[Sans takes a cooled cup of mulled wine and pours it over the cup of snow. Voila! Snow cone. He holds it out to Takame.] There, one snow cone. [More of a snow cup. Sans should not be making money like this, but he's made at least fifteen cents and he's very pleased with himself.] Best snow cones in town, as far as I know. [Only snow cones in town, as far as he knows.]
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