"...Probably," Papyrus agrees, after a few seconds of watching the gelatin wiggle at him. It's easier to watch the plate than looking anywhere towards his brother's face.

"A shame... But maybe, with a word cunningly dripped in the right ear..." Maybe someone else could start such organized chaos in the pool. If that someone was one of the writers or enforcers of those regulations, anyway.

But he's bringing up the idea of dripping words in ears less as a serious notion, and more as a roundabout explanation of his two nights disappearance.