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Not anymore. [He was dust at one point. Actually two points, but he doesn't remember the second one.] Actually, uh, Lucretia's the only one who can deal with that--situation, for us, so hey, more reason to drag her out of the volcano. [Sans is trying really hard to keep his tone as casual as possible here.]

Oh my god. [That much slips out in a tight and agitated voice, despite the tone Sans is setting. But Papyrus is at least quieter than usual, due partly to him burying his mouth in his hands as he processes all of this. There's a lot.]

That. Is. A very good reason, for us to risk thorns, and go in a dangerous volcano. [He nods slowly, head bobbing on his palms.] Okay. Yeah. Let's do that. Everybody living in friendship, and for a very long time.

[Only dying that one time (plus that one time he doesn't remember when all the magic in the world got wiped out) is a pretty good track record for someone as generally fragile as he is, in Sans's estimation. But Sans is sure Papyrus doesn't remember that particular fact about Sans, and Sans is not going to bring it up right now.]

Yeah, and I'm plannin' on taking a nap until someone figures out how to get her out of there, to be extra safe.

[He's sure talking about being lazy will help this situation. That thought doesn't even feel like a joke.]

Yeah, don't lose both your hands. [He says it too bluntly, but Papyrus is a little less tense at the joke, shifting to rest his chin in his hands instead. For all he's reflexively protested and chastised the laziness before, it is reassuring to hear that Sans is avoiding putting himself in danger.]

I wonder... do you think. I know we're different than dead bones. But, I figured out how to, um. Animate skeletons. For a little while. Back when I learning how my magic works. [Did Sans catch that during his times lurking around his brother? Just Papyrus, and the dog, and some material components, in a clearing in the woods, making a fish skeleton flop around for a bit.] Do you think, we could make a hand for you, like that...?

[He trails off with the question, second thoughts bubbling up ask he asks. Would the magic that made Sans un-dust allow him to get a prosthetic? Would making it out of real bones be too creepy? Would Sans even want a replacement hand..?]

[Sans feels a little bad at how Papyrus agrees with his laziness, considering he hasn't actually decided if he's going to stay away from the volcano or not. Well, he doesn't have to bring that up right now. As for a hand... Sans looks at his right arm again. Aside from making a lot of jokes about plastic skeleton hands, Sans is pretty sure too many things had been happening for him to seriously consider much of anything in regards to it, even if the details are still fuzzy.]

Hey, it's worth a shot, right? [Think of all the "give me a hand" jokes that could be made! Of course, the odds of a skeletal hand just sitting around waiting to be used are probably a little slim...] You gonna Frankenstein something together or am I gonna get a big bear claw or somethin'?

[That would look weird and hilarious.]

[If the aggressive pirates are as aggressive as rumor has it, they probably have a couple skeletons lying around. But maybe recycling from food animals would be easier... Wait, what? Papyrus double-takes at that comment.]

...Mmmmmaybe. Why a bear?

[This is because of some pun he's not managing to think of, right? Don't leave him hanging, explain the joke.]

[It's like Sans's grin gets even wider. It doesn't really, but spiritually, it totally does.] So I can fight people bear-handed.

[Even braced for something, this one still manages to catch him off-guard. Papyrus sputters and cackles with laughter.]

Oh my god! Now I have to try it. At least once. Nyeh heh heh... Bear-handed. [He wipes a tear from his eyesocket, which is there because he's laughing so hard, and not because this has been such an emotional rollercoaster of a conversation.]

Hey, there's an idea, gimme a whole set of arms. I can swap 'em out. [Sans latches onto the ridiculousness; he's sure he'd rather just talk about ridiculous things all the time. If it's something bad--well, he can ignore that, at least for right now.]

Different bones for different occasions! [In an incredible feat of brotherly synchronicity, Papyrus is right there in the ridiculousness.] A small hand for sewing... A big hand for arm-wrestling... Gold-plated bones for special occasions!

[Plating bones with gold is evidence of wealth and class, right? Since it's an expensive metal and all.]

Everybody's gonna be jealous. You could start a whole business like this. Just gotta make sure to bone up on your business skulls. [Maybe this isn't accomplishing the goal of getting memories back, but Sans is sure he's glad Papyrus is his brother, even if he can't remember the specifics, so this is actually pretty cool.]

My business skills, huh..? [What's involved in a business, anyway? Supply, demand, and exposure, right? Plus overhead costs...] Hey, who knows! Maybe I'm already an accomplished businessman. Who knows how long ago that training stuff was.

[Why he would switch from training as an accomplished warrior to running a business is a mystery... but, it could have always gone the other way around. A simple businessman, taking up arms to fight for their country, or something.]

I've got a snack stall here. [Kind of, on and off, when he feels like not doing his reclaimer job.] We can just work your business in.

What??? You do?? [Somehow he has never crossed paths with Sans' elusive snack stall. The downsides of coming to Miso Fou's too often, apparently!] What do you sell?

Stuff from Miso Fou's. It was easier when I was sellin' stuff from the moonbase. [Which is why it doesn't appear as often now. But it still does sometimes...]

Uhhhhhhh. [Papyrus stiffens, and very carefully glances at the squid chef out of the corner of his eyesockets. Did he hear that? Are they going to get kicked out for this, or does Sans have an agreement about it?

Why is his first assumption that Sans is breaking a law here...?]

And. That. Works? Selling things... people could already get? By coming here?

[Sans has never asked anyone if this is allowed, but no one has stopped him, therefore he will continue.]

It helps if they don't know they can get it here. Or if it's pretty far away from this place.

Oh my god. [This time, it is not praise, or even surprise. Somehow, it's familiar exasperation as bad as that time he started accusing Sans of oversleeping. Why is this familiar???]

If it's convenient for people, reselling it wherever they are... I guess that's okay. [He hesitates, then plows ahead, unable to just sit peacefully with his mysterious worries.] You're paying enough here, right?

Here? Miso Fou doesn't charge. [It's all profit all the time.]

You don't tip??? [Papyrus is, perhaps, a little overwrought by the whole conversation, a little on edge. His brother, the criminal. Is this squawk of dismay and outrage familiar?

It's sincere, either way. Just because Miso Fou is kind enough to give food away doesn't stop Papyrus from trying to pay. Sometimes with rocks. Sometimes with coin. Sometimes, when Miso Fou tries to refuse the coin, by dropping it in the water over the edge of the bar. But the important thing is, he exchanged something for the thing received.]

[That reaction is very familiar somehow.] I don't think he takes tips, bro. I guess I could order some of that dogfish food for him.

[He does not know Papyrus is responsible for that particular menu item.]

[The dog, which is still around, manages to sneer at the mere mention of the dogfish food. It is not for dogs. Papyrus is too busy still feeling a torrent of way-too-familiar outrage.]

What?? That doesn't count, getting it from him, and just giving it back! You have to give him something. Or, it's just... [Don't make him say it. Don't make him describe your crimes, Sans.]

[Sans digs through his pockets. F-USB cord, Bunyan's Belt, Folding Boat, Peek-a-Boo With Fluffy Bunny, a bag of mysterious powder, an autographed ice cream wrapper... There, cash. Sans tosses a couple gold coins on the table.] There, done.

[That probably counts for everything.]

[That's a lot of pocket rifling, and if Papyrus a little less agitated, he would be snooping. As it is, he just watches the coins arc and settle in place.]

...Okay. And how much have you made...?

Since I got to the island or since I started the snack shack? [Those are two different answers.]

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