An: I don't own Spongebob, thank goodness.
Plankton was sitting at his evil table of doom trying to think up a plan to the Krabby Patty secret formula, when he came up with the most superb plan ever.
"It's so simple and obvious. Why couldn't I see it before?" he screamed.
"Because you're an imbecile." His computer wife muttered.
"Shut it, Karen." Plankton replied as he gleefully scuttled of to bed.
------------- Next Day. 12:07 pm Krusty Krab--------------
Plankton walked into the Krusty Krab and up to the counter. Squidward was at a clarinet/artists convention (aka he was a home faking sickness), so Mr. Krabs was at the cash register.
"Plankton, what do you want? Come to beg for my formula?"
"No. I'm here to pull of my greatest scheme ever."
The crowd gasped and waited for his next move.
"I'd like to order one Krabby Patty, please," said Plankton while pulling out… a five- dollar bill!
Mr. Krabbs' jaw dropped, but he couldn't refuse the money, so he handed over the patty.
Plankton ran out of the restaurant cackling, Mr. Krabbs started sobbing, and Spongebob just stood around like the idiot he was.
-------------A few days later-------------
Plankton started selling even better "Chummy Patties" and the Krusty Krab went out of business.
Mr. Krabbs had a heart attack from loss of money, Spongebob went to an insane asylum, Patrick committed suicide, and Squidward lived happily ever after.
An: I always wondered why he wouldn't do that, besides the fact that it wreaks any plot, and so you just read this.