Oh my god, it's not just me? That machine's been pushing those on me all morning.

[Having approached from somewhere behind Tommy, Papyrus leans around to look past him at the thatched vending machine in question - and visibly frown at the machine. His skeletal facial features crease up not quite like skin, but close enough.]

Hey! Stop throwing vials of terrible soup at people. Nobody wants it!

[The vending machine, very helpfully, shoots another vial at Papyrus. This one catches up in the folds of his scarf, then slowly rolls off to plummet into the sand. His frown turns into a scowl.]