Aftertale; Papyrus Edition (On Hold)

Reset Pt 1

           One more reminder, this is the First Draft, and as some elements/themes/side plots will appear and disappear semi-frequently.

Enjoy!

 Papyrus woke up early. He sat up in bed and looked around his room. It was barely dawn; the morning lights outside hadn't been turned on yet. Something about last night's dream was weird, but he just couldn't remember what happened. Looking down to think, he saw his faded baby blue blanket poking out from his sheets. He smiled, rubbing the Foux-Fox Felt (TM) cloth between his fingers and hugged it to his ribs. After squeezing it a moment he set it down,  hiding it carefully in his sheets. He got out of bed and began his regular morning routine organizing of his room. His mind wandered  as things were shuffled from his table to his bookcase and back again. The little blanket was covering his mind. Sans had given it to him when he was only a little pile of bones. He'd never tell his brother- he should've outgrown such childish things by now- but Papyrus still slept with that cherished blanket every night. He smiled, pausing in his work to reminisce. 

            Shaking his head for focus, his efforts were redoubled to clean his room for a bit before getting ready for the day's sentry duties.*

....................

             Papyrus hopped down the stairs at precisely 7:30, perfect timing as always. He made his way to the kitchen to make breakfast for himself and his brother.  The route had him pass by Sans' sleeping form snoring away into their ratty green couch. He'd stayed out late. Again. Papyrus sighed as he entered the kitchen. Once in the small room, he couldn't decide what to make. After musing a moment he slammed his fist into his palm, decision in hand.  He decided to cook spaghetti for himself. Not the healthiest decision, but he felt he needed a pick-me-up today.

             The pot sat under the faucet as he took the spaghetti boxes out of the cabinet and continued to think. "I  Will Talk To Sans During Our breakfast. I Really Want Him To Sleep Well, And Despite His Saying, I Doubt Our Couch Is That Comfy," he thought as he began to make the tomato sauce.  He left the spaghetti and sauce to cook and went to wake up Sans. 

             Papyrus walked back to the couch where his brother laid curled up towards its back.  "Come On, You Lazybones, It's Time To Get Up," he said softly as he knelt to shake his brother's blue shoulder.

           "mpphh, five mor minutss, bro." Sans mumbled out. His spelling was lacking more than usual, a sign he had gotten home very late last night. 

          "No, Brother, It's Time To Get Up Now. I'm Making Spaghetti This Morning, And If you Want Any, You Need To Get Up And Change Your Clothes." Papyrus got back to his feet and was about to check on the stove before he heard his brother's reply.

          "chek the box." 

           "What?"

          "i ssaid, 'check the box.'"

           "Why?" Papyrus replied suspiciously. He'd better not've switched the spaghetti with squash noodles again. How Sans ever had the motivation or  the means to do that last time he would never know, but he'd thought his brother had learned his lesson then when he had to eat it for breakfast.

           "because it could be an "im-pasta."  Sans replied with an audibly cheeky grin.

          " An Impasta...?" Papyrus's boney hand went to his jaw in a classic thinking pose before his eyes widened in realisation." -SANS, NO! IT'S TOO EARLY FOR THIS! DON'T YOU START YOUR VERBAL TOMFOOLERY UNTIL WE AT LEAST ARE OUT OF THE HOUSE!!" Papyrus couldn't help it, he loved his brother's puns. Well, loved and hated them, and Sans knew this all too well. Every time he didn't know if he should laugh or yell at the wordplay his brother made on a near constant basis.