Chapter 4

With his financial burdens like a curse to everyone around him, SpongeBob vowed to isolate himself for their protection. He cared more for their safety than his own happiness. However, as he dragged himself home after his unpleasant experience at Rock Bottom, he realized that he could see his friends again once his money problems were gone. He thought this realization was an epiphany — all he had to do was absolve his debts and his social life would return to normal. Then he remembered that was his problem in the first place.

SpongeBob kicked a rock in his path as he walked home. 'How can I come up with the money so fast?' he thought to himself.

He glanced up and saw a sign for blood donation. Immediately his chipper disposition returned. "Oh, boy!" he said gleefully. "How luckily coincidental!"

SpongeBob entered the building and approached the front desk. Behind it sat a female fish.

"Welcome to the Bikini Bottom Bank of Blood!" she said. "Where aiding people and alliteration are our number one priorities!"

"I'd like to sell my blood, please!" said SpongeBob. "I really need the money!"

"Oh, we stopped paying people for blood a long time ago!" she replied. "It's a donation. Your only payment is the warm, happy feeling of a good deed! And free crackers and juice."

SpongeBob sighed and walked out. "So much for that idea …" he muttered. He was about to continue his sulking home, when a shadowy figure emerged from behind the blood bank.

"Pssst. Hey, kid."

SpongeBob looked up. "Who, me?"

"Yeah, come're." The shadow retreated back into the dark alley.

And of course SpongeBob, being as street savvy as he is, happily followed. 'Ooh, maybe this stranger has candy!' he thought.

SpongeBob walked into the alley to find the figure by a dumpster, still dimly lit. All he could see was that it was a fish in a long overcoat.

"I heard you were lookin' for some quick cash," the fish said in a gruff voice.

"Oh, yes sir!" said SpongeBob. "You know where I could fine some?"

The fish smirked. "Yeah. How's about I take one of your kidneys off your hands there? I'll pay cash."

SpongeBob glanced down at his abdomen and then back up. "My kidney? I don't know. Don't I need that?"

"Nah, you only need one. In fact, there's lots of stuff you got two of that you only need one. Like your lungs, your eyes … in fact, technically you don't need either of your—"

"Gosh, that sounds like it wouldn't be good for my health at all!"

"Look … don't worry …" Somehow the fish's words didn't match his tone. "Just lie down on the ground here. I'll take out the kidney myself. And I won't use the opportunity to take your other organs for resale value too." He paused. "Does it sound suspicious that I said that?"

Before SpongeBob could naively say no, another shadowy figure approached. A very small shadowy figure.

"Psst, you got the goods?" its voice asked.

SpongeBob recognized him. He grinned; he was glad to see a familiar face. "Plankton? Wow, what are you doing out here?"

"SpongeBob?" Plankton was surprised to be identified. And he was even more surprised to see SpongeBob possibly doing business with someone as shady as the fish beside him. "Oh … hey. I'm just, you know … restocking."

"Restocking for what?"

"The Chum Bucket. What'd you think chum was made of?"

SpongeBob stuck out his tongue. "Blech! That's disgusting!"

Plankton shrugged. "Well, the hospital was on to me so I had to change suppliers."

SpongeBob's eyes darted around quickly. Left, right, left. Nothing was happening? Where was the inevitable misfortune that had befallen Gary, Mr. Krabs, and Sandy? Did it not apply to Plankton? Surely some kind of random problem would arise from SpongeBob's money woes.

But nothing happened.

SpongeBob took a step backward. Then another. Then he turned and ran away as fast as he could.

Plankton shrugged. "All right, what do you have for me this week?" he asked the fish.

The fish only sold Plankton the organs that'd gone bad and were of no use to him. There was no way Plankton could afford the hefty price tag of a fresh organ.

"A lot," the fish replied. "No one's buying lately and everything's gone bad. Maybe I should get a freezer or something instead of just tucking them in my overcoat."

"Nah, that's no way to run a legitimate business."

SpongeBob sulked all the way home. It was a long walk back, even with all his organs and blood.

Eventually he spied his pineapple in the distance. But as he got closer, he noticed something was different. There were men in brown shirts sitting and standing all around it. So SpongeBob made a logical conclusion.

"Oh, boy!" he said. "A surprise party for me!"

He hurried all the way home after that; the bounce in his step was back. He kept thinking how exciting it was that someone had thrown him a surprise party. Maybe things weren't so bad after all.

SpongeBob scampered up to the house. "Hello, everyone! I'm here!"

The fish around the pineapple gave him a lazy glance. There was no 'SURPRISE!' as SpongeBob had expected. Instead they continued to sit and stand idly around. Some were sitting on boxes. There were a number of boxes around the front yard, but SpongeBob did not notice. A strange thing about the fish was that many of them were sipping from cups. Something about the drink was oddly familiar.

"Aren't you guys gonna jump out and surprise me?" SpongeBob asked with a frown.

One of the fish shrugged. "Why would we do that? Isn't the fact that we're taking all your stuff surprise enough?"

"Taking all my …" SpongeBob gasped. "Hey, this isn't a surprise party! It's a repo party!"

The fish swirled his orange-yellow drink around as he spoke. "I've heard a lot of things in this business, but 'repo party' is a first."

"What's that?" SpongeBob pointed to one of the drinks. "Tang?"

"Nope, wrong fruit."

Suddenly a whistle blew. The fish groaned and hopped off the boxes. Their break was up and it was time to get back to work.

Patrick rushed over to the yard from his rock. Yes, it was one of those rare moments where he chose to run. The starfish had his arms up and a big grin on his face. "All right! Choo-choo time!"

He skidded to a stop in front of SpongeBob. The sponge looked over to him. "That wasn't a train whistle, Patrick."

"Oh, darn it!" Patrick said angrily.

"You should really get out of here before something bad happens," said SpongeBob. "Everyone around me has had terrible luck since I've had money problems!"

Patrick rolled his eyes. He never took the right things seriously. "Please, SpongeBob. You worry too much! I was the first person to be around you when you found out, and nothing's happened to me!"

"Well … that's true." SpongeBob brightened. "Maybe I've been wrong about all this!"

"Of course you have! You wanna know a real problem? I still haven't found my tail! And now I can't find any choo-choo's!"

"Huh?"

"Hey, SpongeBob …" Patrick had just then noticed the fish at the pineapple. He wasn't exactly the most observant creature in the sea. "Why are those guys taking all your stuff?"

"It's a repo party …" SpongeBob said with a frown. "The only kind of party that's not a happy one."

Meanwhile next door, an actual party was taking place. A happy party. If you count one person celebrating as a party, and Squidward did. He'd seen the repo men when they first came and actually knew what they were. There had always been an emergency party hat, noisemaker, and set of streamers stored away in one of his cabinets for just this occasion. Squidward tossed confetti all over his house in celebration as he cheered. Nevermind how much work he'd have to do to clean it all up — he was too excited about the best day of his life to worry about that.

Squidward had done this for a whole hour straight since he'd seen the repo men. And he was still going.

Back next door, SpongeBob had sat on the ground to think. His chairs had already been repossessed so he didn't have a choice. "What am I gonna do, Patrick?" He didn't get an answer. "… Patrick?" SpongeBob looked around for his friend.

SpongeBob found him by the side of the pineapple. The starfish had his mouth near the fruit, gurgling noisily. There was a spigot jutting from the outside of the house. Patrick was on his back, chugging from the tap.

"Patrick! What are you doing?!" exclaimed SpongeBob. "Why is there a faucet thing on the side of my house?!"

Patrick let go of the tap and swallowed. "I don't know, but your house tastes pretty good!"

"Let me see that …" SpongeBob turned the spigot on a trickle and put his hand under it. Then he cautiously put his finger in his mouth to taste it. "Hey! This is pineapple juice!" he said, because he hadn't caught on until then. "This is what those guys were drinking! My house!"

One of the repo fish marched up, waving his arms angrily. "You can't touch a drop of that stuff! It's now property of the First National Bank of a Real Bank!" He shooed them away with his hands. "Now get! Go!"

SpongeBob and Patrick only took a few steps, but apparently it was enough to suffice for the fish because he didn't bother them anymore.

"They're drinking my house and taking all my stuff …" SpongeBob said as tears welled in his eyes. "And I can't do anything about it …"

"Well, I know what I'm doing," said Patrick nonchalantly. He retraced those steps he'd just taken. "I'm getting some more of that juice."

"Wait, Patrick! Didn't you hear that guy? Only people from the First National Bank …" SpongeBob trailed off as a grin spread across his face. "I just got a brilliant idea!" Patrick wasn't around to make a dumb side comment; he was already guzzling SpongeBob's house again. "Maybe SpongeBob SquarePants can't take any of these things … but RepoBob Takingotherpeople'sstuffwhenthey'redownontheirluck can!" He smirked as he tiptoed off with his new, mischievous plan.

Squidward was still blowing a noisemaker and cavorting about his house when SpongeBob zipped past him. "HiSquidwardbyeSquidward!" he said so fast that it lacked spacing.

Squidward froze, the noisemaker extended. 'SpongeBob?! In my house?!' he thought.

SpongeBob ran back again, toward the door. This time he wore one of Squidward's brown shirts. "Hiagainbyeagain!"

And he was gone.

Squidward's noisemaker finally recoiled. The incident had occurred only in a matter of seconds. 'He'll be gone soon … he'll be gone …' the octopus reassured himself. And to continue his celebration, he popped open a bottle of champagne and threw even more confetti.

"Why, hello fellow gentlemen!" said SpongeBob, feigning a strange, unnecessary accent. He was still wearing Squidward's shirt. "I am a fellow man of repossessions! I, too, have been sent from the First National Bank of a Real Bank to reclaim this collateral!"

The real repo men exchanged confused glances.

"Because I definitely enjoy partaking in the reacquisition of other persons' belongings!" continued SpongeBob. "I can't get enough of it! So may I please join you in taking these things? I assure you I will not take them to another place for safekeeping until I get my money problems straight or anything like that."

"Oh, sure," answered one of the fish. "Here, why don't you take this box first?"

'Wow, they're really falling for it! My plan is working great!' thought SpongeBob. "Okay!" he said out loud. "Which box is it?"

"Right here." The fish pointed to SpongeBob. "This ugly yellow one."

"Huh?"

All the fish suddenly burst into laughter. "Did you really think we'd fall for that?!" one asked. "All you did was put on a brown shirt!"

Poor disguises such as his normally worked in cartoons, so SpongeBob was surprised.

After they'd gotten their fill of laughing at him, the repo fish returned to doing their jobs. SpongeBob watched helplessly as all his belongings were loaded onto a nearby truck. Actually, he cried like a baby.

The fish checked 'TV made from old-timey diving suit helmet' off his list. "I think that's it."

It'd been a few hours and the fish had completed their task. Not only was SpongeBob's pineapple empty of items and furniture, but it was empty of juice and pulp as well. It'd been drunk completely. All that was left was a huddled mass of skin lying in the sand like an unfolded camping tent, and the green stem from the top.

SpongeBob sniffled as he watched the scene. He was too caught up in his soul-crushing despair to remember a similar event that had occurred before, and that a seed was sitting below in the ground.

"Well, Patrick …" said SpongeBob. "I guess I'll — Patrick?" The sea star was gone again.

The last repo fish walked by on his way to the truck. SpongeBob ran up to him.

"Wait, wait! Where's my friend Patrick?"

"Patrick?" The fish checked his list. "Oh yeah, him. We had to take him with the rest of the stuff. He drank almost all the pineapple. And every drop of that now belongs to the bank."

"Patrick belongs to the bank now?!"

"Technically, only what's inside of him." And with that, the fish walked away.

SpongeBob watched the truck drive off. His things were gone, his best friend was gone, and most of his home was in the aforementioned friend that was gone. All he had left were the clothes on his back. And Squidward's shirt too.

To be continued.