Wiggling a little bit as I embrace Asgore before heading out for work to impart some of his most decadent intrinsic fragrance upon my clothes, as if I were covering myself in a priceless perfume that can be used as a final resort to steel my spirit against any fell outside influence trying to ruin my day. Removing the garbage bag from its receptacle to perform my weekly duty of visiting each of the water sources in my house so as to collect the soggy Asgore fluff that has accumulated on and around their drains, like a solemn tax collector of old collecting his dues. Playing a little game with Asgore where I read out police shorthand codes to see how many increasingly obscure calls he can accurately remember and sliding a number of pistachios across the table to him depending on how difficult they seem to recall (all the while getting gradually angrier at Mayor Holiday for denying this town such a high-quality public servant)