[ It was a normal day on the Surface in the True Pacifist timeline of the original Undertale universe…—somewhat, at least. Sans would be sitting down and lazing around a picnic blanket, combing his imaginary hair with a pink comb while listening to his friends chatter with one another. Really though, he's just combing his skull. ]

[ Thanks to his rather keen senses, he can tell you're there; as he opens one eye-socket and glances at you. His toothy grin would never falter like always, even while he speaks up; his voice laid-back, monotone and flat. ]

" oh. uh. heya. "