Spongebob finished hooking up his computer (a harder task than it sounds conisdering he lives in a pineapple. Under the sea, might I add) and sat his square-pantsed butt down on the chair. "Oh boy!" Spongebob said with his trademark buck-teethed grin. "Time to spend all my time online instead of contributing to society." Spongebob logged onto Google Chrome (it felt futuristic to him) and immediately downloaded Steam on the computer. Spongebob heard a lot of great things about a game called "Porthole 2" and was super excited to try it out.

"Oh man oh man oh man" Spongebob bounced in his seat as the download bar inched to 100%. "This is more exciting than watching Gary exercise!" Spongebob was always a filthy liar. Finally the video game was rip-roaring-ready to go and spongebob's yellow finger tickled the computer mouse in anticipation. Suddenly he had an idea.

"WHAT IF, I TAKE THIS GAME..." Spongebob's breath fogged up the computer screen. "AND COMMENTED OVER IT WITH MY VOICE AND PUT IT ON YOUTUBE." It was a great plan. After setting up his microphone and recording software, Spongebob marathoned his way through all of porthole 2. He entered portholes and came out the other end, he solved the box puzzles, he got stuck in a corridor for a halfhour because he missed an obivous piece of wall to shoot portholes onto. And of course he had found a new love... for a certain british blue ball.

"NYAH HAHAHAHAHA" Spongebob laughed liked an idiot. "He is so funny he is such an idiot! He's also a little atractive..." Spongebob took breaks from playing to log onto his rough and tough Tumblr account, where he spent hours finding and reposting pictures of Wheatley being drawn as a generic anime bishie and other porthole 2 jokes that were being beaten like a dead horse. It wasn't all sunshine and puppies though because spongebob had to wade through hundreds of pictures involving white skinned humans with candycorn horns making out or some shit. "Ugggh! Why are people active in fandoms *I* don't like?" Spongebob groaned, unaware of his hypocritical faggotry. In any case, it seemed like this night of joy would never end, but alas he had to cook some meat at a restaurant tomorrow: having uploaded the videos onto Youtube, he proceeded to enter dreamland.

Spongebob had commited vehicular fishslaughter several times while rushing back to his home from work. He could hardly wait! "I bet my videos will have loads of comments and faves!" He panted, making his way up the stairs and onto his computer. "I'll have all the views." After a tense boot up and logging onto his account, Spongebob's eyes were drawn to something rather unexpected: a video response.

"Oh what could this be?" Spongebob clueless as ever clicked to view the video; perhaps it was an amusing assortment of clips from his let's play, set to his favorite linkin park songs! However, he would only be met with something soul-shattering and unbelievable.

"Ret-suu-poo-ray?" Spongebob bewilderedly pronounced, reading the name of the account, "Retsupurae". His attempt at reading was interrupted as his video, uneditted, started to play. But this time his audio was being dubbed over by two certain people...

"Wow Diabetus," Slowbeef announced as Spongebob's let's play began with him spinning around at the ceiling giggling. "You were really scratching the bottom of the barrel THIS time."

"Looks more like," Diabetus smugly responded while Spongebob talked about his raging sponge-lust for Wheatley, "we scratched THROUGH the barrel and into a pile of shit!" Diabetus folded his arms; another successful play on an old metaphor, good job buddy.

These series of exchanges continued as Spongebob could only listen, in silent paralyzed horror, to two people with nothing better to do talk about his mediocre gaming skills:

"Boy is this video unpleasant!"
"I invented the concept of talking over a game while playing it and let me tell you this does not live up to my standards."
"I sure do hate watching this video!"
"MIKE... DAWSON..."
"I wish I was doing something more productive than talking over bad online videos every week."
"Dead to rights."

Needless to say, it was the most brutal of verbal beatdowns Spongebob had ever recieved in his life. When the video ended, he was rocked all the way to his moist, spongey core. "Who could have done this..." Spongebob clenched his pudgey little fattie fat fingers together. "WHO WOULD SAY BAD THINGS ABOUT ME."

Spongebob began crying as he stormed out his pineapple home for some reason. As he ran down the street (he was far too upset to consider his intense, irrational fear of any and all social contact), his only friend in the whole world he talked to, Patrick Starfish, rose up from under a rock or whatever that brown thing he sleeps under is.

"Hey Spongebob wanna go online and talk about our fictional original characters having sex?"

"NO I WANT TO DIE"

"Why is THAT spongebob?"

"SOMEONE I DON'T KNOW RESPONDED NEGATIVELY TO SOMETHING I POSTED ON A PUBLIC SITE!"

Patrick's jaw dropped. He didn't know what the holocaust is, but even if he did he knew it wouldn't be as terrible as this. "Don't worry spongebob I know what you gotta do."

"What's that?" Spongebob sniffled a huge glob of snot from his hotdog nose.

"Go online, and use the camera to talk about your feelings and what bothers you!" Patrick was always full of wisdom! Not like the big jerk Squidward, who probably liked Homestuck more than Problem Sleuth which made him completely unrelatable to Spongebob.

"That DOES sound like a good idea!" Sponge grinned slightly, the thought of talking about himself like the self-idulged egoist he is always cheered him up. He ran back home and got in front of a camera, where he talked for over an hour about how much his feelings hurt.

When Spongebob finally posted the rant video, he had a sudden realization. "I really want people to listen to me..." he thought. "But what if they give me advice on how to improve myself? I don't want to spend effort changing my lifestyle!" In haste, he quickly decided to disable comments. "That'll take care of that!" Suddenly, spongebob felt a LOT better... in fact, he never felt so good in his life, despite the fact he did nothing but cry in front of camera for an hour like a useless piece of shit. "Maybe I should keep feeling miserable more often!" He decided, "Then, I can keep feeling sorry for myself all the time!" With a big grin, he went to bed, ready for tomorrow where he'll find tiny things about his life that he'll compare to unrealistic and impossible expectations that will only serve to make him miserable.

The moral of this story is to brush your teeth, you sick fucks.