There's call for an encore. Their head's buzzing enough they almost, almost do, but they're also gross and sweaty and their red ribbon's disappeared, crap. Maybe they went a little too far, it's lost in the crowd now probably.

Oh well.

Frisk rockets off the side to even more applause. Who needs stairs? And then they're circling around the crowd--not looking for Pitch right off, actually, just looking for a table with a drink.