“Oh, hey.“ Sans blinked at he noticing you, rubbing his eye-sockets, which both had red highlights. He wore a black jacket with a fluffy yellow collar, a red shirt, and black shorts. He also wore a simple golden necklace made of thin gold chain.

He looked tired. “What’re you starin’ at me for? You want a hamburger and fries, or a chimichanga? I ain’t a mindreader.” He asked bluntly. “If you don’t want anything, just scram on outta here.” Deep down, he was a softie, who was under stress.