It's a step forward. J tosses the towel forwards over the crystal with a flick of his wrist, never breaking his rhythm. Sans' tune is still coming together, sounding better than it has in a while; he can't stop now.

"It doesn't sound like you had much of a choice." Being tied to a table tends to remove most of your options; J can't even begin to imagine what was going on in there beyond that. "From what Papyrus told me, they had you tangled up pretty good."