"Hello, beauties and gentlebeauties! Welcome to Cooking With a Killer Robot™, joining me is a spaghetti connoisseur, totally definitely platonic friend, and if you say otherwise I'll kill you, Alphys, The Great Royal Guardsman Papyrus!" THere was nothing but cricket sounds. "Uh, Papyrus?" Some confetti weakly fell from the studio ceiling. Then there was a great rumbling sound. Suddenly a race car burst through the walls. At 3 Miles Per Hour. The air conditioner was turned up all the way to give the illusion of the wind blowing through his mini-cape. He hopped out of his car, did a frontflip and landed in front of Mettaton. He dramatically posed for a second before noticing Mettaton's confusion. "How did you drive through the window? We're on the 168th floor?" Mettaton demanded. Papyrus perked up and said "SANS HELPED!" All the way from ground level, the sound of a whoopee cushion was heard, and Sans said "hey bro." The ratings went up so high, they exploded through the screen and ascended into the sky above. Mettaton shrugged and dramatically swung his upper body toward the nearest camera and blew a kiss at it. "Let's get ready to make a fabulous feast!" A montage of proper hygiene, equipping of essential cookware, and clips of Mettaton looking flirtatious but approachable ensued. Frisk sat in the front row with Toriel, Alphys, and Undyne, writing Papyton fanfiction. Undyne quietly whispered, "Stir harder, you dork." Alphys wondered aloud whether Papyrus or Mettaton would propose. Hearing the lizard scientist's words, Papyrus blurted, "I always figured Mettaton would, after months and months of I, the Great Papyrus, doing my best to seem worthy of his beauty." Mettaton, though incapable of blushing, became very flustered, and glared at Dr. Alphys, using her as a distraction from the confusing emotions riddling his brain. The two spent the rest of the episode avoiding eye contact, and managing to ruin a simple spaghetti meal in their awkwardness.