"I hope you're happy."

Spongebob whirled around and checked behind him. Any voice was a comfort in this situation. Any one at all. However, nobody was around. This wasn't particularly surprising. After all the twists, turns, betrayals, and homoeroticism, Spongebob was mostly desensitized to disembodied mystery voices.

"Spongebob, I can't believe you're just rolling with this."

Spongebob wiped his eyes and stood up. He walked over to the door to try it again, but the mystery voice protested. "What the hell do you want from me?" he whispered. He was tired, he was upset, he was sick of everybody acting all mysterious and withholding answers.

"I want you to keep trying, Spongebob. You're the only one who can do this. Your ears, your eyes – well, they're not exactly special, but it's still up to you."

"Did I miss a chapter or something?" Spongebob muttered. "Did I just skim over the bit where somebody tells me what's going on, tells me what the point of all this is, because last I checked, I don't know anything! And yet people are throwing around information to me like there's a handy, user-created encyclopedia I can check to get up to speed on all this. Who are the Sciurideans? What's the deal with the seagulls? And why me? What's so special about me?"

There was silence. Spongebob figured that the voice had abandoned him. Another mystery organization whose expectations he had failed to live up to? Shit, that was no big deal. Just par for the course today. Hell, this one had a leg-up on the others; it didn't even make one of his best friends try to kill him, which, based on his experience thus far, Spongebob figured was one of the requirements for being considered a serious secret organization in Bikini Bottom.

"Do you really want to know?"

Spongebob took a deep breath.

"Tell me everything."

"That's pushing it. Considering that I'm almost as in the dark as you are."

Spongebob punched the wall. Why did this guy have to be so useless?

"Just tell me who's working for who. Tell me that."

The owner of the mysterious voice cleared his throat. "We can only tell for the most loyal members of the different organizations; all the others have been shifting allegiances faster than a blonde slut on a reality TV show.

"First there's George, that creepy fish who locked you in that basement a while back. He's with the Larideans, who use the seagull symbol. They say that they can see things others can't. I think they're full of shit, but whatever.

"Sandy is with the Sciurideans, and my informants tell me that she could even be the leader; we just don't know yet. They can also do something related to vision, but we don't have enough information on exactly what their capabilities are. Something about layers. Disguises, maybe."

"What about Arthur? Whose side is he on?

"Arthur is on Arthur's side. He defected from the Larideans just recently and is currently screwing over everybody he possibly can."

"But he seemed so harmless before…"

"Arthur is anything but harmless. You need to be careful with him, no matter what."

"And what about Patrick?"

"Patrick's a wild card. Everybody wants to get their hands on him, and we can't be sure why. But don't worry, kid, he's looking out for you. You're lucky to have a friend like that."

Spongebob couldn't help but chuckle. After all this time, of all his friends selling him out, now he had finally found somebody who was willing to help him, and he hadn't even seen their face.

"One more question," he said, picking up the gun and starting to walk through the threshold of broken glass, into the other side of the testing facility. "You seem to say 'we' a lot. Who exactly are you working for?"

A sigh, then, "I can't tell you."

Spongebob laughed. "You've been straight with me all this time, and you can't even tell me what side you're on?"

"I'm not on any side, Spongebob!"

"Barnacles! How do you know so much, then?"

"I've been watching – "

"From where? With what organization?"

"Spongebob I – "

"Tell me! Now!"

The voice stayed silent for a while. "Spongebob, I can't belong to any of these organizations. Not the Larideans, not the Sciurideans, not the other two, either. As in physically can't."

"Why not?" Spongebob asked. He waited for the realization, the swerve before he was left in wait for even more answers to even more questions.

"Spongebob, I'm – well, I guess this applies to the 'we' I was talking about – we're already dead."