Sans nods along with her once the texts appear -- the nod of a guy who's had way too much to drink and risks unbalancing himself in the process.

"I gotta discuss you with the captains." He starts, then stops. "I mean, I gotta discuss the captains with you. It's the only safe place since there are no cameras but uh you gotta bring..."

He gets the signal, screwing up his expression in deep thought.

"--You gotta bring all the sheets in your room. Like, all of 'em. It's really important." Satisfied, he leans back, shoulders practically vibrating with resisting the urge to bust up laughing. "Okay, thanks, see you there, love ya, bye."

As soon as he ends the feed, the pretense of sounding composed falls away. Sans falls away too. Literally. The man is on the floor. If he's laughing, wheezing, or literally dying, it isn't clear.

"He's gonna--" Another gasp, still laughing, still not done. "He's gonna shoot us."