[Papyrus stares at his brother with an expression not unlike that first reveal of their siblinghood. Like staring at someone he doesn't know, but should. The outrage in his voice fades in favor of something more careful, confusion and wonder and skepticism mixed together.]
Are you telling me. You didn't tell anyone your birthday. Because. You were busy working?
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Are you telling me. You didn't tell anyone your birthday. Because. You were busy working?