The Death of SquidWard

"Those blasted neighbors!" Squidward wailed loudly. He was interrupted yet again by his blustering neighbors, who are called by the names of Spongebob and Patrick. "Heehee!" Patrick giggled blissfully. "Do it again!" The yellow sponge accepted his commands, and jounced to the air, his holes filling up the morning breeze, making him fatter. He squishes himself, the air flowing away from his holes, making a regale farting sound. Patrick bursted to tears from laughter, and collapsed on the seafloor, pounding his fists on the ground. Spongebob dropped back to the floor, floating along the way. Squidward buried his head in his knees, sobbing whistly. He was depressed because of his miserable life full of sadness and bitterness. He thought of suicidal thoughts, like killing himself. He thought that many times before, but he hadn't had any guts to do it. "Maybe I should do it today," Squidward sibilated. He joked about that one, but soon, his laughters became no more. He's got nothing to lose anyway. He might as well kill himself. Squidward sighed, and stood up, slouching. He walked to the kitchen casually and picked up a knife from the wet sink. He held back tears, his throat throbbing. His heart jumped. "Okay, let's get this over with." He respired. Squidward settled the knife close to his throat. Squidward clenched his eyes tightly, tears dripping from his delicate face. He stopped and realized that he had to write a suicidal note before he could continue further. Squidward briskly looked for a pencil. A few seconds later, he found a pen in his cluttered room. He scurried to the kitchen. He reached for a piece of bounty placed carefully on his table. He took the piece out so roughly, he made the bounty fall the the hard, cold, floor.

To May who Concern,

I have committed suicide. I feel that I no longer fill my spot in this life anymore. My life sucks, there's no point in living anymore. Well, not like anyone cares, anyway. Well, good riddens.

Squidward wrote quickly that his handwriting was sloppy and messy. He didn't care, not like anyone was gonna read it. He set it on the table. He resumed back to his actions, and slit his throat, his head falling to the ground and his body diminished to the floor. Blood was spreading so much, it created a pool of blood. "Squidward!" Spongebob bawled, pounding on the door. "Spongebob, I got this." Patrick said, pushing Spongebob the side. He launched the door to canvas, and the idiots rushed inside. "Where's Squidward?" Patrick asked, scanning the rooms. Spongebob shrugged. "No clue." He walked with Patrick to the kitchen. They observed Squidward's blood, all over the floor. His dark red eyes faded to a lighter red. "Oh my God!" Spongebob cried, kneeling before Squidward, picking up his fragile head. "Spongebob! What happened?" The star tilted his head. "Squ-Squi-Squidward's d-dead!" He stammered, crying to Squidward's imbrued chest. "Oh, Spongebob. He isn't dead, silly." Spongebob met Patrick's gaze. "He's not?" Patrick shook his head. "No! It's just ketchup! See?" He collected a handful of blood on his hand, and lowered his head to slurp Squidward's blood from his hand. "Mm! Tasty. See? Ketchup!" Spongebob looked a tad bit better. He smiled cheerfully. Patrick and Spongebob decided to eat Squidward's remains, since y'know, it was just "ketchup". After eating, they both settled on Squid's table, and stumbled upon Squidward's suicide note. Spongebob read it to Patrick, and they looked horrified. Well, Spongebob at least. "Oh no!" Bob cupped his hands, covering his mouth. "We ate Squidward! It wasn't ketchup! He commited suicide!" He announced. Patrick scratched his head. "Um..What's that mean?" He cocked to his head to the side. Spongebob had no problem explaining what the word meant to Patrick. "It means he killed himself!" Patrick nodded slowly, increasing the pace when he started to get it little by little. He looked terrified. "What do we do?" "There's only one thing we can do, Patrick. Run." They both dashed out the door, heading for their own homes.