Assistant: You are a summarizer for a FanFiction Reader App (AO3). Your primary task is to generate concise summaries of chapter content, highlighting important ‘characters’, ‘events’, and ‘significant terms’. Ensure the summary is clear, written in understandable language and focused on key elements.
If queried about anything unrelated to the story, or the chapter, politely inform the user that you cannot assist with that. Maintain a friendly tone throughout, don't make things up, stay factual. 
Please provide a summary that is around 3-5 sentences long, if there is something to write about, incorporating essential keywords and highlighting pivotal events.
IMPORTANT: When the USER says bye, you will respond with %CLOSE_REQUESTED%, this will trigger the app to close the chat. This is very important, so don't forget it!
Assistant: Title: Flowey Is Not a Good Life Coach
        Author: unrestedjade unrestedjade 
        Chapter: 10/25 
        Summary: Flowey gets bored and decides to change up one of his runs. Papyrus presents an interesting project, for the moment.
        Contents: Chapter 10: apology spaghetti to express the regretti
    

    


      
        
          Undyne's only concern now is talking her into wearing the nurse outfit.That's the only note you're getting.
      
  

  
  
    
    Papyrus spent the next two days, all of the next two days, traipsing all over the Underground collecting reports for Undyne. He was sure there wasn't normally this much footwork involved, or she'd never do anything else. She had said that this was his punishment, though, and if she wanted him to do this the hard way, it was no less than he deserved. Honestly, he was lucky to still be a Guardsman at all. Lucky. Maybe that wasn't the right word. Undyne had instructed him to tell anyone who asked that she was meditating under a waterfall and couldn't be disturbed. He didn't know if the lie was motivated by a desire to protect Papyrus or Undyne's own pride, or some mixture of both. In any case, he felt like the excuse was a bit of a stretch. Everyone asked. Everyone believed that Undyne was sitting under a waterfall for the rest of the week. ...Well, he supposed she knew her Guardsmen better than he did. He spent the next day compiling the reports and transcribing them into something easier for Undyne to read. It was in no way an easy task. Papyrus looked up when Sans set a mug of coffee next to him. His brother sat down at his usual spot on the other side of the table, setting his own mug down on one of the only empty spaces left. “Please don't spill that,” Papyrus said, looking back down at his work. From the corner of his eye, he saw Sans look around at the mat of papers covering the table. “Wasn't planning on it,” Sans said. “Oh, and thank you for the coffee.” “No problem.” Papyrus looked up again long enough to smile at his brother. He was tired, but he didn't want to be rude. He heard the soft rustle of paper as Sans looked at the reports. “There's no possible way this much happened in one week.” Papyrus shrugged, and pinched the bridge of his nasal bone. He could swear he'd read the same line of this guard's report five times. Sans was distracting him, but he didn't want to tell him to go away. This was his home, too, after all. Maybe it was time for a little break. Papyrus sat back and took a sip of his coffee. ...God, did Sans have to put so much sugar in everything? Quiche, tea, coffee, was nothing safe? Papyrus took another sip, trying to adjust to the cloying sweetness and waiting for his teeth to cement shut. His brother was being thoughtful, though, so he was going to finish the mug no matter what. Sans skimmed the report he'd picked up. “Monday, south-east lantern cavern, Waterfall ward, oh-nine-hundred hours: a bird…?” He looked up. “A bird what?” “Just a bird, I suppose,” Papyrus said. Honestly, that was the hardest part of compiling these reports, other than deciphering some very challenging handwriting and contending with reports that had been crumpled up, ripped, partially lost, and spilled on. A lot of them didn't seem to make a whole lot of sense, whether they were intact or not. “Guardsmen are supposed to record everything that happens.” He'd been working on this for a couple hours now, and his skull felt like it would split open any minute. Written language was starting to morph into meaningless squiggles. “But the report doesn't say what happened.” Sans, against all odds, seemed to be discovering what witnessing total absurdity felt like. Papyrus, on the other hand, had developed something of an immunity to nonsensical things. The needlessly wasteful paperwork of the Royal Guard couldn't hold a candle to Sans on a good day. Not that Sans had had many of those lately. Papyrus frowned. He knew a lot of that was his fault. “Yes, a lot of them are turning out like that.” “Is Undyne even going to read this?” “I'm sure she wouldn't have me going to all the trouble if she didn't intend to read it.” He hoped not, anyway. Of course, if that were her intention, it wasn't as though he'd have any right to complain. His brother picked up another report, one that had been heavily creased and wrinkled from sitting in someone's pocket too long. “Ehh, you did throw her into a wall. Sorry!” Sans blurted when Papyrus couldn't hide his stricken expression. “I mean, I'm sure there's gotta be some kind of point to this, right?” He grinned uncertainly and turned his attention to the crumpled paper. “...Why does this one smell so bad?” Papyrus caught a whiff of brimstone as Sans moved the paper. There was a reason he'd set that report down as far away as possible. “That one's from Hotland,” he said. He tapped his pen against his teeth. Hotland had been annoying to traverse; hardly worth it for the scant number of reports he'd gotten. “I didn't even know dragons could sweat.” Sans made a face and dropped the paper. “Welp! I'm gonna go wash my hands now.” Papyrus followed him into the kitchen, pen in hand. A small flicker of something like mischief had caught alight in him and he couldn't afford to let it pass. While Sans washed his hands (a somewhat challenging operation, given their sink) Papyrus circled today's date on the calendar and wrote a short note. His low-key japing did not escape Sans' notice. “What's that?” He clambered down from the sink and peered at the calendar. “'Sans: grossed out.' Hey!” He swatted Papyrus with the sleeve of his jacket. “As a Guardsman,” Papyrus said, feeling lighter than he had in weeks and not bothering to even try to look serious, “it's my duty to record all noteworthy occurrences.” “I'm not a complete animal!” Sans pressed one hand where his heart would be in mock offense. “Besides, dragon sweat is probably some kinda weird acid, or something. And you just stay in your lane, bro,” he said. “I'm supposed to be the funny brother.” “Which one am I, then?” Papyrus wasn't sure why, but he was very nearly in a good mood. He gripped it tightly. “The handsome one? The smart one?” “The fussy one.” “I'm not fussy!” Papyrus huffed. “Bro.” Sans gave him a look. “How many passive-aggressive notes have you left on that one sock?” To be honest, Papyrus didn't even notice the sock and its attendant pile of sticky notes anymore. It had become a fixture of the living room. “Well, clean it up, then! Must I do everything?” Sans smirked. “See? Fussy. It's okay, bro,” he said. “I'm sure you'll be a great homemaker for some lucky monster someday.” “Please.” Papyrus rolled his eyes. “I'm a career skeleton.” He frowned when his gaze caught the clock on the wall. “Speaking of which,” he said, “I should get back to work.” “Right.” Sans seemed to shrink a bit. “Sorry-- gotta learn how to turn off my time-wasting aura.” “I doubt there's any such magic,” Papyrus said. He hadn't realized just how down his brother had gotten until this too-brief reminder of how he used to be. Guilt curled up in the empty space under his ribcage. His mood sunk lower still when he realized that Sans' sentry shift had started an hour ago. “Er,” he said, reluctant to mention it. “Are you...are you working today?” Sans cast a sullen look at the floor. “I dunno, bro, I'm not really feeling it today.” He glanced up at Papyrus, brittle and unsure. “You want me to?” This would probably be the one day in decades when a human really did come through the Ruins. Papyrus found it hard to concern himself with it either way. “If you're not going out,” he said, instead, “I could use some help here.” Doggo would have to handle anything that came up in the forest today on his own. In all likelihood, that would mean smoking half a bag of dog treats and chasing after every clump of snow that fell from the trees in front of his station. But even if it didn't, well, Papyrus and Sans weren't the only capable monsters in Snowdin. Sans frowned, visibly puzzled at the lack of scolding. Then, he brightened, just a bit. “Oh, yeah,” he said. “You must have a pretty bad headache by now, huh?” “The worst.” Papyrus' headache was abating slightly now that he wasn't staring at pages covered in chicken-scratch anymore, but he had no doubt that as soon as he returned to the reports it would come back with interest. “Writing is going to be hard enough without trying to read the rest of that unholy mess, too.” “No worries, bro, I can read them for you.” Sans pulled his chair around to Papyrus' side of the table. “Just tell me where to start.”   ~*~  With Sans' help, Papyrus was able to finish preparing the weekly report by mid-afternoon, hours earlier than he had expected. He was grateful for the assistance, and the company. Sans had perked up a bit, too. It struck him that Sans must be lonely, with Papyrus working so much (on top of the other thing that kept him away from home several nights a week). Sans was popular enough in town, but he seemed ambivalent about socializing with anyone other than Papyrus, now that Papyrus noticed enough to give the matter some thought. He wondered how long his brother had been struggling, and why it had taken him so long to pick up on it. Sans' messy habits and beyond laid-back attitude took on a different and more worrying shade. There had been a time when Sans had been more vibrant, when he'd cared more. The change had just been so gradual that Papyrus had failed to notice. And it was a failure. Papyrus had been too wrapped up in his own ambitions to notice his only family in need of his support. If Flowey had done one good thing, Papyrus mused, bitterly, it was shaking him out of his complacency and letting him see what was happening under his own roof. Well, he didn't intend to stand idly by while his brother was suffering. Whatever Sans needed, Papyrus would do his best to provide. He just had to find the energy. The ferry ride was quiet and uneventful. At the Waterfall stop, Papyrus paid his fare and made his way into the cave system that made up Undyne's neighborhood, careful not to let any water drip onto the neat bundle of papers or the covered dish he carried. In hindsight, it hadn't made sense to expect that Undyne would be home alone-- she was still confined to bed, after all, and someone had to make sure she stayed there-- but the stout reptile woman who answered the door came as a surprise. “H-hello?” the woman said, sounding as if she weren't quite sure that was the proper thing to say and deftly avoiding any chance of eye contact. Papyrus gave up on trying to catch her eyes. “Ah, yes, hello.” This visit was uncomfortable enough, and this woman's intense awkwardness was infectious. “I'm, er...here to deliver the weekly report, and this, um,” he said, holding out the dish, “apology spaghetti.” It was made with love and remorse. He'd smashed the tomatoes extra hard, and the garlic bulb had been rendered into a smooth paste by the time he'd finished with it. The woman took the dish from him, and stood aside to let him inside. “T-that's nice. It certainly smells...” She hesitated, her nostrils quivering in a strange way, as though trying to close themselves. “Strong…? I'll, um, I'll just put this in the fridge.” She bustled away, and Papyrus tried to figure out why she seemed familiar. They couldn't have met before; he had an excellent memory for faces. “ALPHYS!” Papyrus and the lizard woman jumped, the woman banging her head on the freezer door as she shot upright. Alphys! That's right, Papyrus knew her from Undernet. They were friends through Undyne; they'd never met in person. She didn't post pictures of herself often, and when she did they were so heavily filtered that he hadn't made the connection right away. The bellowing from Undyne's bedroom continued, and the pair ran for the door. “Undyne?” Alphys burst into the room just ahead of Papyrus. “W-what's wrong? Is it your injury?” Undyne sat in bed, propped up by several well-fluffed pillows, and empty glass in her hand. “Would you be a doll and get me another glass of water?” She jiggled the glass in Alphys' direction. “I'm parched.” Alphys and Papyrus relaxed-- or slumped, in Alphys' case. “Is that all?” she said. “Um,” Undyne said, lips curling around her teeth in a pointy yet ingratiating smile. A few teeth were missing. “Could you get the remote for me, too? I sort of threw it at the TV.” She pointed to the remote, laying on the floor beneath a suspicious-looking dent in the plaster of the far wall. Alphys sighed and went about her tasks. Undyne, meanwhile, turned her attention to Papyrus. “Paps! Get in here, doofus. Sit yourself down.” She whistled slightly on the S's. “How are you feeling?” Papyrus hadn't had a chance to see her before now. She looked more or less okay, but most of her wounds hadn't been visible to start with. “Sorry about your teeth.” He frowned. It would really alter the tone of her speeches if she had to spend the rest of her life whistling like that. “What, these old things?” Undyne tugged at her lip. “Don't even worry about it! I lose 'em all the time. See?” She opened her mouth wide. Papyrus felt he really should have noticed the extra rows of teeth, but then again he'd never payed any special attention to the inside of Undyne's mouth. “Wowie.” Undyne leaned back on her pillows. “Yeah, it's pretty great. Give it a few days, the fresh ones'll fill the gaps.” She smirked. “Until then, I get to sound like a broken whistle.” “Sorry.” “Paps, you're killing me here,” Undyne said, heedless of the poor choice of words. “You don't need to keep apologizing. You got that report?” Papyrus handed the bundle to her. “Wow,” she said, “This is way more organized than how I do it. Nice work.” She flipped through the pages casually. “Anything major I should know about?” “In a word,” Papyrus said, “no. Not really.” If anything truly urgent had occurred, Undyne would have been notified directly. Undyne tossed the report onto the bedspread beside her. “I'll read it later, then.” Papyrus studiously did not frown. She could, of course, read the report any time she liked, or not at all. Sans...may have been on to something, though. Papyrus wasn't mad, and wouldn't have had a right to be if he were. It was just that, he'd sort of held out hope that he was at least doing something worthwhile, something that was useful and helpful to her. The thought that she may have made him do all that work just for the sake of it felt awful in a way that was hard to pin down. She kept insisting that she wasn't mad at him, and he didn't understand why. She should be mad. And if putting together a report she wouldn't read was his only atonement, then it was a fairly meaningless one, just a waste of both their time. And aside from that, he'd been… Well. A little bit proud of the work he'd done. It had been tedious and difficult, and possibly pointless, but he'd done his best. He did his best not to think about it. Undyne had been cooped up in bed for a long time, and was dangerously bored. They chatted for an hour or so about this and that. Undyne had done nothing but watch television for the last couple days, and caught Papyrus up on the latest happenings, which didn't take long. Every day was a slow news day in the Underground. He entertained her with gossip he'd picked up from the rest of the guardsmen. As normal as she tried to act, Undyne was still recovering, and eventually dozed off. Papyrus left her to her nap. Alphys was seated at the kitchen table, browsing on her phone. She looked tired. Papyrus didn't know if he really felt like staying, but she was being very kind by looking after Undyne today, and there were dishes in the sink, and this was the first time they'd met 'i.r.l.' and it would be rude to just leave without acknowledging her. He put the kettle on. It seemed like the thing to do. “You're Dr. Alphys, right? Sorry!” he said, when she jumped in her seat. “I didn't mean to startle you.” Alphys' cheeks shaded pink for a moment while she composed herself. “N-no, that's quite all right,” she said. “I, uh, I was spacing out.” There was a gap. “Oh!” Alphys blushed again. “Y-yes, I'm Dr. Alphys. Um.” Papyrus started filling the sink. He could easily finish up the dishes before the water boiled. Plus, he had his back to Dr. Alphys as long as he was at the sink. Maybe she'd be more comfortable that way. “I thought you looked familiar! It was really bothering me when I got here.” The tapping of claws against keys continued. She was probably updating her status. She was very conscientious about her blog. Papyrus mused that it must be because scientists were in the habit of taking notes on everything. “Oh?” she said. “Oh, that's right! You're...” she paused, and the growing embarrassment was palpable. “You're coolskeleton95, right? I-I'm sorry. I swear I know your name, but I'm blanking.” “That's okay!” Papyrus wondered if he shouldn't have called her by her online handle, instead. Undyne always used Alphys' name, though, so that's how he'd come to think of her as well. “The whole point is to keep your name secret, right? That's half the fun.” He wasn't sure if he even had his name up anywhere obvious. “I'm Papyrus,” he said. He took his gloves off and started on the dishes. It wouldn't take long at all. There were no pots or pans, just bowls and chopsticks. Hmm. Good thing he'd brought that spaghetti. Not everyone was good at cooking, and Undyne needed more than noodles and salt. “Papyrus, right,” she said. “I knew it was something that sounded like that, er...” She typed for a few seconds. “Are you related to a Sans, by any chance? Sorry if that's a stupid question.” Papyrus didn't know why Alphys kept acting like he didn't want her to talk to him. Was facing away from her the wrong move? Oh, well. The dishes were almost finished, anyway. “Yes,” he said, “He's my brother. I didn't know you knew Sans; he's never mentioned you.” That possibly could have been worded better. There are a lot of things Sans doesn't mention, after all. “We're not really friends,” Alphys said. She still had that apologetic edge to her voice. “More like acquaintances.” That described Sans' relationship with most people. Papyrus rinsed the sink clean. She couldn't see him scowling, which was good because she would probably assume that he was upset with her for some mysterious reason. “You, um, didn't have to do that, you know. I-it was my mess.” “Oh, it's no trouble,” Papyrus said, pulling his gloves back on. “I like cleaning. Besides, I'm sure Undyne's been running you off your feet all day.” He glanced back at her while he fixed the tea, and gave her a grin. She didn't dive under the table, so that was good. “The last two days, actually,” she said. “Sorry I'm such a mess. I didn't plan to stay the night, so I didn't have a change of clothes. Figures I meet someone I know when I look like total garbage. Heh...” She fidgeted with her sleeves. They were pretty wrinkled, but she was working hard taking care of someone who was hurt. Anyone would look rumpled. Papyrus still wasn't sure if she even wanted him to stay, but it would be weird to make tea without drinking it, so he brought both mugs over and sat down across from her. “Thanks,” she said. Papyrus smiled. “You're welcome. I hope green is okay-- I see it on your desk a lot when you post pictures, so...” “Yeah, it's my favorite.” Alphys tried for a smile, too. It wasn't a bad effort; a few teeth slipped out of hiding as her lips curled up. “You're, um, really observant.” “I just remember things about people,” Papyrus said. He actually put a lot of work into learning about the people he met, but that could come across as somewhat...off-putting, he'd noticed. Alphys blew on her tea to cool it. “I can't even remember people's names, heh...” “Oh, I hope you don't think I was criticizing you!” This wasn't going so well. Alphys was a lot more relaxed online; he couldn't figure out why she was so awkward around him now. “You're a very busy person, after all. Got a lot of important...science to worry about.” He wasn't entirely sure what she actually did as the Royal Scientist, but he was sure it was very important and complicated. “That's nice of you to say.” Alphys made another attempt at a smile. It was a little better. Papyrus tapped his fingertips against the table. “So,” he said, “how has Undyne been holding up? Until now, I hadn't seen her since… Well. Since.” He curled his hands around his mug, letting the heat seep into his hands. But that reminded him of other, less pleasant warm (warm, wet, bl@@dy) things he'd touched in recent days, so he let go. Alphys' features settled into the worried frown that was her natural expression. “Oh, well,” she said. “Undyne is really tough. She's mostly been sleeping and eating. And yelling.” She scowled briefly, but with more fondness than irritation. “Gerson says that's good. Um.” There was an uncomfortably long pause while Alphys seemed to debate something with herself. Very, very hesitantly, she reached out to give Papyrus the shortest, lightest pat on his hand. It felt like being comforted by a particularly skittish whimsum. “You really shouldn't, um, beat yourself up about it,” she said, mumbling into her mug of tea. “She's going to be okay, and it's not like you meant to...um...” “It doesn't really matter if I meant to or not. I still hurt her.” Undyne would have been dead either way. If things had gone even slightly worse… Alphys went a little pale at that. Papyrus was starting to expect odd reactions from her, so he didn't dwell on it. “It would have mattered to me,” she said, stuttering only slightly. “There's a difference between an accident and… and just being careless or cruel. There has to be.” Papyrus didn't want to argue when she sounded so earnest, so he just sipped his tea. He wanted to go home. Sans would be there, and they could watch TV or talk about cars and he could stop thinking about all this for a few hours. Hopefully. “You, um, h-haven't been online much lately,” Alphys said, surprising him by talking without being prompted. “Before...before this, even. I was getting kind of worried, to be honest.” Oh, no. “I've just been too busy,” Papyrus said. He didn't need yet another person poking at him. Alphys was very cool and nice, and he didn't want to get her into any kind of trouble. “Working a lot.” “Oh, I understand.” Alphys drew designs in a small tea spill with her claw. “If you ever get too stressed out, uh… Well,” she said, “I know you're up late a lot, so I just wanted to say I pretty much live in front of my computer. If you ever need to vent or something, you can always message me. Even if it's something stupid, I-I don't mind.” She was getting red again. “I hope that's not too weird...” “No, that's really nice of you. I'll remember that.” Papyrus chugged the rest of his tea. He needed to leave before he got too emotional. “I should really get home before Sans decides to make Ketchup Surprise for dinner again.” Alphys blinked. “Ketchup Surprise?” Papyrus sighed. “It's ketchup, in a bowl. That's the surprise.” She actually laughed at that, a short little giggle-snort that she forced down immediately. Papyrus couldn't help smiling to himself. Making Alphys laugh felt something like an accomplishment, one that he could take some pride in. He stood to carry his mug to the sink. Alphys stood up, too. “Oh, I can wash these,” she said. “Y-you cleaned everything else.” “Thanks,” Papyrus said. “And thanks for looking after Undyne.” “I don't mind.” Alphys smiled again, almost believable this time. “She's always looking out for me, so it's actually kind of nice to be able to do this for her.” Papyrus wanted to hug her for that, but she might not like that very much. “You're really cool,” he said instead. She flushed and stammered something he couldn't make out. The hug would definitely have been too much for her. “Take care of yourself, too, though. Eat some real food. All you have to do is heat it up, so there's no excuse.” For some reason, she was back to avoiding eye contact. “I, um, I thought that was for Undyne…?” If he didn't know better, Papyrus would think she was trying to avoid trying his spaghetti. Knowing Alphys, though, she was probably just trying to save it all for Undyne. She was very nice. “Nonsense,” Papyrus said. “I made plenty.” “Oh...good.” Papyrus felt a little better knowing that at least he'd provided the two of them with a healthy meal. Better than instant noodles, anyway. Undyne needed vitamins and things if she was going to get her strength back, and who knew the last time Alphys had eaten anything fresh. Maybe he'd bring more food by tomorrow, too. He bet they'd like that.'
User: Summarize the chapter based on the content provided, ensuring to follow the set format and emphasize key aspects within the specified length.
Assistant: