Interacting with Papyrus is much more joyful than.... talking with Grillby. I understand that we need to do something about the pub, but, I needed an escape from reality. I used to do it with reading my mixology book, 

which I left at home....

So I had nothing to entertain myself with for the time being.

Papyrus was showing me his "GREAT!" room, I had noticed that he reminded me of a child. His action figures, his race car bed, his immature charm, all led me to believe that there's a possibility that he may be.... taught without good parenting. He has a knack for words, for example, saying "BOONDOGGLE" to Sans when I had first arrived. It would seem like a word he would find on his own time in a dictionary.

Yet, he didn't seem to grow out of childhood. It's as though a child were trapped in a towering, skeletal body, with a deep passion for spaghetti. I wonder if they even grew up with any parenting at all, and Sans was the only family he had, or, they did have parents, but were drunk all the time.

The later makes more sense...

"Y/N?" Papyrus awakened me to the real world.

"Yeah?" I blinked out my thoughts.

"YOU WERE STARING OFF INTO THE BUBBLY SAUCE. IS IT BECAUSE YOU THINK IT'S THE MOST OUTSTANDING SAUCE THERE COULD EVER BE?" Papyrus stood proudly, while looking at me.

"Sure Papyrus." I spoke seriously, and resumed my stirring of the sauce. "Do you think it's done yet?"

"POSSIBLY. IT DEPENDS WHETHER OR NOT THERE WOULD BE SEASONING!" Papyrus exclaimed over finding his 'seasoning.' He handed me some MTT branded products, which may include screws, sawdust, and glitter. I gently pushed them away, and instead found some seasoning, way in the back of the cabinets. I had to ask if Papyrus would reach it for me, and he was confused, but did as I asked him. He handed me some chopped chives, salt, pepper, and other containers filled with spices. I then asked him if he had any brown sugar.

"BROWN SUGAR?" He turned his skull 15 degrees. "WHAT'S BROWN SUGAR?"

"Well, in that case," I took a quick look at the sauce, before looking back at him. "Would you mind running to the shop and ask if they have any brown sugar?"

"I DO NOT MIND Y/N! I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WILL DO THIS IMPORTANT TASK! IT'S NOT EVERYDAY YOU KNOW, THAT THERE'S A TRUSTY FRIEND TO HELP YOU IN THE MAKING OF HIS SPAGHETTI!" He made his final remark as he burst out of the front door.

"Alright." I spoke to myself, turning my attention to the sauce. "I could let this simmer, and then add the brown sugar at the end, possibly along with the salt, pepper, and chives that Papyrus found..." 

"Need any help?" I heard the familiar, yet tired voice from my right. It was the fireman, the one which I chose to ignore. I wonder if he noticed my absence in conversation.

"Maybe." I set the wooden spoon on the side of the pan, away from the stove. I whisked my head around to meet his gaze. He was without his more proper attitude, and had his shirt buttoned up all but for one bronze colored button. He was leaning over on the counter, his glasses off, so I could truly see his fiery eyes. His pupils were lighter colored flames flickering in sadness, but his expression said otherwise. I smiled at him, which made the finicky flame more stable.

"Do you possibly need, oh I don't know, some help with cooking?" He offered. This spun a playful idea in my mind.

"What, are you saying that I'm not a good cook?" I acted as though I were offended by Grillby's comment.

"Nonononono! I-I didn't mean it at all like that!" The flustered fireman gestured quickly and nervously, as to not upset my pretended-fried-nerves.

Oh that would make a great pun one day.

"Sure you didn't." I leaned on the counter, with my left arm supporting some of my body weight. "But anyways, have you ever tried spaghetti?"

"You mean other than Papyrus's spaghetti?" Grillby inquired.

"Of course." I smiled.

"Well, if it wasn't Papyrus's..." Grillby trailed off, trying to conjure up any possible memories. "That's a negative."

"Hmm! Well, anytime you were to make or eat this said dish, then I would recommend brown sugar! It makes it sweeter, and less savory and tomatoey." Grillby gave a face of disapproval.

"Eugh. Sweet and savory don't mix. Plus sugar doesn't belong in spaghetti!" Grillby argued. 

"You can't judge it if you haven't tried it yourself. But, it tastes good Grillby!" I chirped.

"Look, you can't go wrong with savory. You can make something overly sweet!" Grillby debated.

"Well at least I'm being sweet by trying my sweet way of cooking by adding something sweet!" I topped off my side of the debate with a lean on the tip of my toe and towards Grillby's leaned posture.

"..." Grillby was speechless at my point.

"Ha! The master mixologist rules!!" I cheered for myself, then realized what I was doing was uncalled for, but I didn't give it much heave since our bar was burned down.

"Fine fine, you win. You should rather savor the victory, than say it was a sweet one." 

Our puns were getting off the burner.

"Don't be so salty Grillby!" I put a hand on my hip. "I would say my victory was delicious, and your attitude is distasteful, honey." I smirked at our pun war.

"But sugar! You gotta admit, I got the hots for you. You're literally baking in my presence." Grillby threw in some more flirtatious puns.

"Oh Grillby!" I overdramatized my actions, and pretended to fall over, a hand over my forehead. "You're just too hot for me to handle you."

"But sweetie pie, I thought we were co-operating for a reason!" Grillby came around the corner and looked down on me. "You seem rather, down in the dumps. Would you like to be pulled to the light?"

"No! I'm not ready for death! I need to thank all of my sweet friends and family!" I smiled at our actions.

"Well, your loss! I guess I'll have to take control over the savory sauce." Grillby walked over me, and I quickly sprang to my feet to stop him.

"Hey! Who said that this wasn't going to be sweet?" I spread my arms wide.

"Me." Grillby pointed to himself. Yet, before I could make another comeback, we heard the door slam wide open with the great Papyrus himself!

"I THINK I SMELLED PUNS WHEN I GOT HERE. DON'T TELL ME SANS RIDDLED YOU WITH PUNS!!" He shouted.

"No no, he didn't." I called from around Grillby's large frame.

"THEN WHY DID I SENSE THAT THERE WAS A PUN WAR?" Papyrus set down a bag of brown sugar.

"Because Grillby and I were killer with this war of the puns." I summarized.

"NYOHOHOH!!!... NOT YOU TOO?!..." He cried.

"Sorry Papyrus. I was so distracted by miss sugarplum here that I just had to tease her with some finger-licking puns." Grillby put his glasses back on.

"I NEED TO RID MY HEAD OF THESE TERRIBLE PUNS!!" Papyrus marched up the steps. We heard a muffled Papyrus call to us after he shut his door. "AND BAN YOU GUYS TOO!"

Grillby and I both looked at each other and laughed our heads off.

After the hearty laughing, I had decided that the sauce was getting burned. 

"Let's get this sugar in the sauce." I went over to the bag of brown sugar. As I was picking it up, Grillby smiled ruefully.

"Let's not be so saucy now Y/N." This resulted in another sob from the Great Papyrus.

We both laughed some more at his reaction, and we finished the sauce. I decided to put away the seasonings in the cabinet, but the problem, was that with the higher placed cabinets, I couldn't reach it. I tried everything to nudge it up there, and when I tried my final plan, it went to no avail. Grillby came over and spoke confidently.

"Let a tall guy do this." He commented on my height, as he put away the excess spices.

"Hey!"