"hrrmmm?" Sans sleepily opens his eyes after sitting at the counter for so long. Both of you were working at a retail job, and while you were cleaning Aisle 7 (a kid threw up), Sans was napping, slacking off. You had tapped his shoulder, trying to talk to him about how lazy he was being, but he just puts his head down again and keeps on reading car magazines. "you going to talk, or...?"