A/N: Shout-out to Specialminds, and more importantly, THANK YOU iggs-dreemurr! I was going to abandon this story, seeing as NO ONE left any favorites or follows, so I assumed the story was a flop, but since I now have one person, (you) now following the story, I'm obligated to keep it going. Thank you, and please review!

Chapter 3—Sans a Problem

"Hey Smiley, some help over here!" crowed Flowey, only to wince at the glare leveled at him by the puny skeleton, his sockets narrowed in dislike as his fingers prepared to snap, the monster's eye glowing bright blue. Flowey's expression quickly morphed into an "Oh Shit" face, preparing to have a bad time, when Papyrus stepped forward, arms crossed in annoyance.

"SANS! WHAT ON EARTH ARE YOU DOING? I EXPECTED BETTER OF YOU, WE HAVE A GUEST OVER FOR DREEMURR'S SAKE! THIS IS EXACTLY WHY I CAN'T TAKE YOU ANYWHERE!"

Sans and Flowey both stared with wide eyes at the eccentric bonebag's rant, jaws dropping in disbelief. Sans stuttered for a moment, searching for an excuse, but found his voice.

"But Paps, he's a… bad influence? Yeah! You shouldn't be around him. How did he even get in here anyway? Heh, did you uproot him from his home?"

"…SANS, GO BACK UPSTAIRS. OR GRILLBY'S. OR ANYWHERE FAR, FAR AWAY FROM ME. BEGONE, FOUL BEAST! BE REPELLED BY THIS ABSOLUTELY TERRIBLE SPAGHETTI, SO BAD EVEN A MONSTER LIKE YOU WILL FLEE TO ESCAPE IT!"

Flowey snickered, feeling slightly proud at how terrible he managed to make the spaghetti.

"I really should be offended at you knocking my cooking, Bonebag, but it's as garbage at the royal scientist!"

The skeleton brothers shared a confused look at that passive aggressive statement, but shrugged it off.

"NYEH? HMM, FINE THEN, IF COOKING IS NOT FOR YOU, THEN LET US TRY OUT BONDING OVER GAMES?"

Sans shrugged.

"I'm fine with that bro."

Flowey, on the other hand, was not of the same opinion.

"No, I would rather-"

"WELL, I SUPPOSE WE COULD GO IN THE GARDEN AND WEED! THERE ARE SOME GOLDEN FLOWERS THAT NEED TO BE PLUCKED AND DISPOSED OF."

Needless to say, the decision to play a game was unanimous. The decision as to which game to play, not so much.

"Dungeons and dragons paps, we gotta!"

"NO! Candy Land! We have to play Candy Land!"

"VERY WELL THEN, I SHALL GO FETCH APPLES TO APPLES!"

As the exuberant skeleton beamed, moonwalking off to find the box lost in the depths of Sans room, Flowey and Sans pouted at the overbearing skeleton overruling their choices.

(The dialogue for the game will be all caps for Papyrus, lowercase for Flowey, and italics for Sans, for ease of reading.)

NYEH? "HORRIFYING"? I AM AFRAID "ANIME" FAR SURPASSES "MY LOVE LIFE" IN THIS CASE! THAT SUCH CHILDISH SHOWS ARE ENCOURAGED IS RIDICULOUS, WHEN COMPARED SO THE TRULY SUPERIOR METTATON MOVIES!

Hah, in your face Smiley! My turn! And the word is… drumroll please… "beautiful". Hurry up Trashbag, Papyrus threw down his card ages ago! Ok, now… wow this is an easy one. "Art", or "Mass Genocide". Heh, who am I kidding, genocide is the beautifulest.

Are you kidding me weed? Seriously? How on earth did Paps actually win that round? I call bullsh… shoes. Bullshoes, right. Also, beautifulest is not a word, for frick's sake! It's most beautiful, cotton for brains. Okay, yes Pap, I'm look at the cards, just STOP POKING ME GODDAMNIT! Hm, "cool"? Well… Okay, yeah it's a no brainer. "Newton's cradle" tops "Racecars" any day.

FINE THEN, I SUPPOSE IT IS MY TURN, SO- WHAT. ON. EARTH. WELL LET'S SEE, THE CARD IS "LAZY", AND MY OPTIONS ARE "SLOTHS", AND… "SANS". SANS, IT IS AN INSULT TO COMPARE YOU TO SLOTHS! AN INSULT TO THE SLOTHS, THAT IS. THE BARRIER MOVES MORE THAN HE DOES! WAIT… NOOOOO! THIS MEANS THE ALL TIME CHAMPION OF APPLES TO APPLES GOES TO… FLOWEY? WITH ME IN SECOND, AND SANS IN LAST, BECAUSE NO. JUST NO SANS. TOO. MANY. PUNS!