I make no promises. [He shrugs, sliding down deeper on the couch. If Mettaton wants him to rise to display, welp. He's known him long enough. Surely he must know how fruitless that endeavor is.] Papyrus loves midnight snacks.

[Of course, as Mettaton approaches the door...]

Oh hey, one last thing, though. [A wink.] Maybe try chilling out a little. Cutting people some slack. You might like it.

Just a thought.