and knifecat is already very smug

[Papyrus huffs another annoyed breath when the chip is placed, and grabs it to examine - then sticks it in his mouth to eat. Why not. He knows where his face has been. And some of the sorts of food Sans eats has been... tasty...? somehow?? Which is almost as distressing as the year thing. Not only does Papyrus not have his own cool face, or magic, but he's stuck needing to sleep, and Sans's food smells good.]

I think I want, to go to the bar in the morning. Eat one of your terrible burgers. [Sure, it's not morning drinking. But coming from Papyrus, if that food plan's not a sign of how bad this existential crisis could be, what is?]