"What is that?" asked Patrick as he stared down at SpongeBob.
SpongeBob tightly clenched the jellyfishing net in his hands. Large salty droplets fell from his ducts and splashed onto the bamboo surface. "We only use composite materials, Pat…" he said mournfully.
Patrick scratched his chin. "I see the life in this… Allow me to breath a new revival into the current situation, my friend." With that, Patrick took the net and smelled its essence. "I am proud."
SpongeBob was angry with himself. He had disobeyed all credence set in stone by the greatest jellyfish enthusiast ever. "Kevin the Sea Cucumber…" he whispered.
Patrick gave his rectangular pal a somber look. "You shan't speak the name that commits vile acts of treason upon your subconsciousness."
SpongeBob wailed in mental agony and pulled out his secret socks from his back pocket, shoved them into the pink starfish's ears and punched his face in with his secret Gary's bowl.
"Look at all those Eggman's robots…" mumbled the porous freak.
Patrick pulled the lucky socks out and swallowed the pair whole. SpongeBob gasped and pulled out his plasma cannon.
"I dare you, fool…" growled Patrick.
SpongeBob could not pull the trigger. He dropped his weapon and Patrick ate that too. Patrick then squatted down and release the discarded items from his innards. SpongeBob gasped at the sight.
"These have become my possessions alone…" Patrick said as he dusted off the plasma cannon. He put both socks on the barrel and fired away. This transformed the gun into a balloon. "it's free balloon day…"
SpongeBob took out his final lucky charm. It was his Lucky TV. He turned it on and shot Patrick with a blast of his secret TV channel.
Patrick was instantly disintegrated into dust.
"That is the smell of defeat, Patrick," SpongeBob rasped as he pulled out his electric guitar from his back pocket and played a sick riff for the ages.
"I thought it was my skin…" said Patrick as he blinked his leftover eyes.
SpongeBob knelt down with the guitar and screamed. His own eyelashes grew longer and longer until they could pluck the guitar strings themselves. SpongeBob then continued his ballad and wept bitter tears for his life's trials. "And I don't even know his last name…"
"Poor lad…" Mr. Krabs exhaled with tumultuous melancholy as he looked down from his rented pickle barrel at the saddened sponge. A single tear formed in his right eye, fell, and hit the ground, causing many a flower to bloom.
It was just the cycle of life, death, and rebirth. The true misery is derived from the chaos of mankind's existence foremost. A deep faith in the inconsequential is the only act of purity that cannot be redacted from the world's true order.
FIN