For want of a nail...
Review replies;
SOLmaster: Let's just say, it ain't gonna be good. Also, thanks for the compliment, it really means a lot. :D Thanks for reading!
Zim'sMostLoyalServant: We can be messed up together, then. =P Also, got it in one. Thanks for reviewing!
Autobot-Outcast: Yeah, I feel for him a bit too, I must admit. :| Thanks for the review!
Chapter 02: The Butterfly Effect
About twenty-odd years ago...
Harold Squarepants walked to the bus stop, hands in his pockets.
It hadn't been a good day. Work had been busy, and he was fairly sure his boss had it in for him. Then the fire alarm had gone off and he'd had to stand outside in the cold for three hours while the fire brigade made sure the building wasn't burning down. To top it all off, it was raining.
Muttering to himself, Harold rounded the corner. His bus was in sight, and for a fleeting moment, he could see a sponge woman preparing to board.
Then he was pushed the ground.
"Gotcha!" somebody shouted.
Harold heard a loud clang. Then he was being helped to his feet.
He looked behind him. A streetlamp had been struck by lightning (underwater – strange, that) and had fallen...right where he would have been standing if he'd kept walking. The stranger – a crab in a naval uniform – had saved his life.
He'd also caused him to miss his bus.
Oh well, he supposed, a bus was just a bus. There would be another along in five minutes – it wasn't as though he'd just missed something he'd never see again, right?
As Harold thanked the sailor for saving his life, the bus – and Margaret, the woman he should have but never would meet – disappeared into the dreary, misty distance.
Fifteen years ago...
"We're sorry to lose you, Lieutenant-Commander," sighed the admiral.
Lieutenant-Commander Eugene Krabs stood in his commander's office, having just handed his resignation after twelve years of naval service. He'd been promoted to officer status about five (or was it seven?) years ago, after saving a man from being struck by a falling streetlamp. After that, he'd risen steadily through the ranks, but now it was time to go.
"Sorry, admiral," replied Commander Krabs, "But I've been waiting to pursue me true calling for too long."
"Yes, your calling in...restaurant management," remembered the admiral, disapprovingly, "Well, whatever you do, I wish you good luck. If it doesn't work out, there'll always be a place for you here."
"I'll remember that, admiral," grinned Commander Krabs, "It's been good working for you, sir."
"And you too," agreed the admiral, shaking Commander Krabs' hand, "If we'd had more officers of your calibre, we'd have won the war in a year."
Commander Krabs saluted. The admiral returned it, before allowing his subordinate to leave his office and the Navy behind.
Three years ago...
Sandy paced her living room, phone in hand. She was not happy.
"...no, it's nowhere near development," grunted Sandy, talking into the phone, "You're asking me to build this thing in five days – it can't be..."
She scowled.
"Heck do you mean I ain't got no drive?!" she demanded, "I have plenty of drive! ...you're calling me a what? A recluse? I ain't no recluse! ...okay, I can name several friends! There's..."
She trailed off.
"...fine," she grumbled, "I'll get to work. Goodbye, si...goodbye, sir."
She slammed the phone onto the receiver and sat down, quietly fuming.
She hated this town. She didn't know why – the people weren't that bad, and this part of the ocean was beautiful. She just felt, deep down, that something was missing...
Two years ago...
"He's never gonna get any better, Commander Krabs," sniffed Squidward.
Commander Krabs watched, arms crossed, as his fry cook carried a horribly burnt and prepared Krabby Patty around the restaurant, trying to find someone who would eat the horrid thing.
"The boy just needs time," shrugged Commander Krabs, "We'll keep training him – remember, he was our best applicant."
"He was our only applicant," muttered Squidward.
"Anyway," shrugged Commander Krabs, glancing out the window and over the road, "Plankton's been quiet lately. Think he's up to something?"
"I don't care," muttered Squidward, "I just work here."
Commander Krabs glared at Squidward.
"Must've run outta ideas," he decided, returning to his office.
Two years ago – three days later...
Commander Krabs hid in a dumpster, holding his breath as King Neptune's men searched the area. Inside, he was cursing himself.
Plankton hadn't given up. On the contrary, he'd just executed his most brilliant plan. Now, Commander Krabs was a wanted man, framed for the theft of King Neptune's crown.
The king was...attached to that crown, apparently.
He looked out of the dumpster. The king's men seemed to have gone, and Commander Krabs allowed himself a sigh of relief.
Still, he couldn't stay in Bikini Bottom. He would have to skip town.
Two years ago – one day later...
It was an average day in Bikini Bottom. Patrick was outside, dozing against the wall of the now-closed Krusty Krab. Across the road, a crowd had gathered outside the Chum Bucket, lining up for the restaurant's new Krabby Patties – apparently, Commander Krabs had asked Plankton to keep selling them.
At least, that's what Plankton was saying.
Suddenly, Patrick heard a clang. He looked over the road – a radio tower was beginning to ascend from the roof of the Chum Bucket, getting higher and higher above Bikini Bottom. Then, with a loud clang, it stopped...and started broadcasting.
For a second, Patrick wondered if it was a mind control tower. If it was, he needn't worry.
After all, he had his nifty new Chum Bucket Bucket Helmet to protect his brain from...
Thunk.
...oh.
Now...
Danny Fenton was asleep in his bed, oblivious to the thunderstorm outside. He was too busy dreaming.
He was standing on the edge of a rock in the Ghost Zone, looking over a truly massive red portal underneath. He could hear his voice on the wind.
"My name is Danny Fenton...and I don't think I'm coming back from this one."
"Danny...please don't do this."
"Sam?" Danny quizzed.
Then there was another voice – a high-class sounding British one.
"I did what I did for the benefit of all humanity! I don't need your approval, nor do I want it – but I do need you to listen!"
Danny felt himself lift off the ground. The world turned to swirling colours before his eyes.
"If you really care about her, you will shut up and let. Me. Finish!"
Danny landed hard on the Fenton Lab floor. Wincing, he picked himself, looked up...and his jaw dropped.
The roof was gone. The building was gone. At the end of the street was a truly massive ghost portal.
Danny jolted upright, panting heavily. He was back in his bed, and his recaller was beeping. Wiping sweat from his brow, Danny answered it.
"Fenton here," he wheezed.
"Danny! ...are you okay?"
"Just a nightmare, Jim," replied Danny, "What's going on?"
"My recaller just shorted...at least I think it did. It shocked me, anyway."
"Sure it isn't static?" quizzed Danny.
"No, these things don't do that," replied Jimmy, "Anyway, I was making sure it was still functional and...look for yourself, under portals."
Danny tilted his head, but did as asked.
"Okay, we've got Amity Park, Retroville, Dimmsdale and...what?!"
"Yeah, my thoughts exactly," said Jimmy, "Look, I can't get Timmy on the line. Meet me here in the morning at eight. We need a battle plan."
"Got it," nodded Danny, "Should I bring Dani?"
"Keep this between us," replied Jimmy, "This could still be a hack or something. I wanna be sure. See you tomorrow."
"Yeah, see you."
He hung up and looked at the screen again, concern lacing his features.
"Planktopolis," he scowled, "What are you up to, Syndicate?"
For want of a nail...the kingdom was lost.