Sans stretched over the bar counter and groaned as he felt his joints snap. He crossed his arms and buried his face in his blue sleeves. "Can I get another bottle Grilbz?" He mumbled through the fabric. After a moment he felt the familiar heat of his flaming friend in front of him.
"What did you want Sans?"
Sans dragged his drunken head up to face the bartender. "I'll tell ya what I want," he drawled, gesturing with his empty ketchup bottle. "I want some more of the good stuff!" He claimed, slamming said bottle onto the counter.
"Sans, you're clearly drunk. I can't give you any more and keep a good conscious." He waved at the last of his customers as they left. "Is there anything else I can get you?"
"Not unless you can make miracles..." Sans mumbled. The familiar heat washed over him as Grillby came to sit next to him.
Grillby wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "Is everything okay Sans?"
The skeleton was suddenly in tears. "No it's not!" He slammed his hands against the