[Papyrus twists his head up at the snapping sound, then crouches down to get Sans closer to where he can jump the heck off. Or climb. Or whatever.]

What's a Clintwood supposed to be? Flintwood maybe.

But barbecues are full of messy things! Doing a load of laundry afterwards, that's only sensible!

[Meat grease, bbq sauce, ashes from whatever they were smoking... Dads could clean. Asgore sure kept his uniform spiffy-looking.]