As his job was eggsitting, and all these good friends have Strange well in hand, Papyrus loiters back by the tent. It seems all is well, firey hair and all. Nobody is newly hurting, people are healing, and there are hugs galore. A victory for friendship, and he coos to see it.

"While you all do that... I'll clean up back here," he calls out. "Come find me if you want to keep your egg! As, a keepsake, or something."