#it also comes with the need for lab tools or alchemical stand-ins or poor man's chemistry and carries the fun risk of getting blown the fuc

[null-siren]

The look on Red's face said it all. Such a simple fix to a lack of fuel for equipment that required it had completely eluded the big lug. While it was clear that there had been a plethora of other important things on the skeleton's mind--survival, for instance--Gaster still felt some small degree of disappointment in his for-now pal.

Which was something so very rich coming from the egghead who had completely forgotten that wind could be used to generate power when it was one of the first things about the world he'd encountered, alongside its snow--never mind how explosive such a thing as 'simply' trying to produce a combustible liquid could potentially become. At least he tactfully refrained from comment. When the item in question was found and presented to him, Gaster took the culinary blowtorch with a manners-minded, "Thank you," and also took a moment to look it over.

It certainly wasn't a welding torch… But beggars could not be choosers. Luckily heat depended more upon fuel than equipment, so whether or not it would be of any use depended upon whatever type of fuel could come of echo flowers, moss, or mutated flesh. He would have to use the samples he collected for less nefarious purposes than, say, experimenting upon his 'pal'... What a scientific tragedy.

Gaster followed shortly behind Red, back out into the front. The sight of the big boned's skeleton's equally big boned blaster - well, frankly, that was, "Cute." Hey, even petty old men bent on ineffectually culling timelines could appreciate something objectively 'cute' now and then.

"It is a pity that I cannot summon mine," he added, before returning his attention to his informally appointed assistant-guide. "Shall we proceed to the location you've deemed suitable for this project?"

Why hadn't the large skeleton considered that? Much like Gaster not considering wind power, Red hadn't thought of the idea of using organic materials to create a fuel capable of use within a blowtorch. Thinking on it now, it made so much sense that he had to take pause and look dumbfoundedly upon his company.

Then again, the skeleton had come to adopt some rather unusual habits in that frozen hell that he once called home. Food was never cooked, as it left unnecessary opportunity for it to be stolen or lost to another monster, finding it far more efficient to expedite the process by chomping down whatever raw material he could in as little time as possible. For heating purposes... well, he didn't have skin to get frostbite and after so long, he just seemed to... get used to it.

This was despite a rather useful bit of magic which, most of the time, he simply didn't have the energy to use. Now, while he did have the strength at the moment, he wasn't particularly willing to expend it, so he kept his trap shut on the topic entirely. After all, he wasn't looking forward to saying goodnight to his blaster again anytime soon...

"In that case..." He fished through the boxes once again, turning a few of them over with a clamor before he finally spotted it, picking the culinary blowtorch from the various pieces of junk and presenting it to Gaster. "Be my guest, pal." He could vaguely remember once upon a time when Grillby had been into making crème brûlée, with the torch used to caramelize the sugar on top.

With that done, he finally seemed to lose interest in the mess of boxes made his way back into the snowy mess of a bar that composed the front room, finding his blaster excitedly staring at him through the gaping window frame.