He sits in his usual seat, his head resting in the palm of his hand, as he leans against the bar. A singular bottle of ketchup rests in front of him, and he reaches for it, taking a sip of the red sauce.

"Ay, can a skeleton get some fries around here, Grillbs?"

He speaks up as Grillby looks his way, washing a dish with a cloth.

"Y'know, I'm starving, I'm all skin and bones!" Sans says with a grin, pointing finger guns at the tired bartender.