This isn't the first time Sans has been dropped into the lake. He's found it doesn't get less frightening, only less surprising. As he gets as close as you can get to dragging yourself along without actually being flat on your stomach, he heads toward that fire without enough energy to do more than hope it's not going to be something too terrible. Seeing a guy smashing up a gift box is at least five or six times better than he expected.

"You workin' out some frustrations there?" Sans asks, tone exhausted but still with a hint of humor to it. "Can't blame you for it."