A/N: I still don't own Spongebob.

At the Bikini Bottom town hall, Spongebob was assembling Bikini Bottom's finest for a meeting. "Attention, everybody! Do you have any questions on building a grill?"

Plankton raised his stubby hand. "Uh, can it be powered by the effects of nuclear radiation?"

Spongebob looked at his cookbook. "I don't see anything for it or against it."

Sandy raised her hand. "Can it speak in a Southern accent?"

Spongebob smiled. "Sure!"

Patrick randomly boomed. "Uh...Can you slather mayonnaise on it?"

Spongebob sighed. "Patrick, for the last time, grills cook meat. Okay, before we begin, any more questions?"

Old Man Jenkins raised his hand. "I'm getting a bit nearsighted. Can someone help me?" Everyone ran out of the building. He sighed, and raised a match to the gas-soaked grill. "So the whoozer-flurtzam goes inside of the-"

The town hall exploded, sending Old Man Jenkins into the high tide. "Hey, dude!" Scooter's ghost said. "Nice of you to join me!"

After weeks of toiling, the citizens of Bikini Bottom had combined all of their homemade grills into a single unit. Now, they only had to drag it to Squidward's house.

Speaking of Squidward, he was furiously rubbing the sludge off of his grill. "Maybe I overreacted slightly, but this goo is impossible to get off! SPONGEBOB!" He looked around. "Spongebob? Something's not right…" Squidward began to think. No one had been pressuring him to go to work for the past three weeks. No voices, no frequent requests for jellyfishing, and no taxes! What happened, and how could he make it happen again?

Just then, he heard an immense, ear-shattering grumbling sound. Everyone in town was pushing a hideously-ugly barbecue grill toward him.

"Hey, Squidward!" Spongebob piped up. "All of us made this grill for you. It's better than any grill ever made. It's even got an artificial intelligence to help you cook."

Please kill me… The voice spoke. These idiots have been asking me nonsensical questions for the past seven hours. No, starfish, rabbits are not giant feet!

Squidward began to tear up. "You made all this for me? Maybe this town has some potential after all! How does this thing work?" He jumped onto the behemoth, and began testing out some of the buttons.

"NO!" Sandy yelled. "That's the transporter!"

SHOOM….The grill turned into a rocket. They zoomed further and further into the stratosphere, going ever closer to a fiery death.

"AAHHHH!" Squidward screamed. He pushed a random button, and, miraculously, the spaceship stopped. They were saved!

"Hey, Squid." Spongebob had just thought of something. "We're right next to a glowing ball of death by heat, right?"

"Yes, Spongebob." Squidward groaned. "Why are you asking me this when you should be suffocating from a lack of breathable air?"

Spongebob looked away from the sun. "I was just going to ask if you had gotten Gary's slime off of your old grill. Snail slime is highly flammable."

Squidward miserably looked down. Sure enough, the potentially ruined grill was stuck on one of his legs. "Spongebob, " he moaned, "I-"

BOOM! The grill/rocket exploded.

The End

A/N: Yeah, I didn't really know where I was going with the ending of this story. Before I officially woke up, I was just thinking about a Spongebob idea where they have to make a barbecue grill. Please don't troll me in the comments, and please don't erupt into flame wars over the quality of Spongebob now! Have an excellent day! Read and review, if you please!