Sammy poked his head around a tree, staring out into the city block. "It's so different."

"It's been thirty years, Sam." Spring reminded her.

"But it shouldn't have changed that much!" he squealed. "Just right there" he pointed to an Ace hardware "was my favorite music store. I went there all the time to get new guitar picks!"

"It shut down fifteen years ago."

"Exactly what year did you, well." Sans asked, gesturing to his masked face.

"Umm...1990s."

"A while ago." Sans decided.

"Not that long!" Sammy huffed. "Making me sound old."

"You were twenty when I met you." Spring contradicted. "If anything, I'm the old one."

"Shut up." Sammy hissed. He looked across the street, and asked "Where are we gonna go? None of us make any money, and I'm sure my bank account was drained years ago."

Spring thought for a moment, then said "I would have said we could find work, but there are... issues."

Sammy tilted his head. "What do you mean?"

"Our appearences, for one. Plus, I'm vehemently gay, so there's that." Spring admitted.

"We can go through the market, see if there's anything." Sammy suggested, humming softly.

Sans looked down the street. Sure enough, there was a huge flea market going on.

"You son of a bitch, I'm in." he joked.

And they were off.