"So let me get this straight, or gay, in your case." Sans rubbed the bridge of his nose in confusion. "You're bilingual as hell, and French was your first language."

"Mhm." Spring nodded. 

"And you're sexually attracted to the personification of France."

"I prefer the term 'romantically', but yes."

"I don't know why you're flipping your shit." Sammy tossed a scrap of paper at his skeletal friend. "I'm part Hungarian."

"But you can't speak the langu-"

"Sans, románul, spanyolul és magyarul tudok beszélni. Fogd be az egynyelvű seggét." he suddenly fired at him.

Sans blinked once, twice, then smiled and said, "Witze über dich, Sam, ich bin nicht einsprachig."

"Oh Mon Dieu." Spring curled up on the couch and reopened his manga. 

Sammy tilted his head back and mumbled. "I'm hungry as fuck. I want some food."

"Well, there's a bit of a..." Sans went to retrieve the bag still full of groceries, only to find it only contained a twelve pack of ramen, some Fruit Loops, a single gallon of milk, and four apples. "...problem with that." 

Sammy sat totally upright, holding the stiff posture. "How..."

"Half of your shitty as fuck pay goes to these shitty bills. This was all I could buy." Sans shook his head in sadness. "And that shelled out all the money you made this entire week."

"Then I'll work overtime." Sammy decided. "I'll expand outside of the apartment. I'll do something!"

Sans stared at the measly groceries in his lap, for once regretting leaving home.