Sans might have forgotten, but Rey sure as hell hasn't. Not when she's spent some time stewing in it. Both the anger and the shame are frequently passing forces.

Right now, she lets those things turn into disapproval, arms folding over her chest as she bears down from the other side of the counter.

"And a nightcap typically taken before bed, which you're not in, and last time we checked this wasn't a motel," Rey says curtly as the bottle cap flicks past her and onto the floor. She ignores it.

Dammit, Sans, don't litter in her bar.