"Dead? What do you mean dead?" Just a week ago, Spongebob Squarepants was alive and well, evading police capture and killing people and everything. A single tear fell out of Dom's eye. Shine on, you crazy diamond, he thought.

"I mean our friend Mr. Squarepants is no longer with us, you boob," Arthur Bottomfeeder said with a sneer. "He was intercepted at the police station by a certain organization. They are called the Cetaceans, and there is no doubt in my mind they finally finished him off. I believe they left their card? The one with the whale?"

Dom narrowed his eyes, remembering the strange whale-card in the station bathroom. "I called the number. Somebody named George answered it, said he knew me. Why? Who is he?"

"I haven't the foggiest. The message on a Cetacean business card varies depending on who looks at it; sometimes it's a note, sometimes a phone number. On the especially weak-willed, it could perform a psychic attack. But it always serves a greater purpose." Arthur smiled knowingly. "It looks like it's written in the stars for you and this George person to meet."

Dom wasn't pleased with Arthur's tendency to dance around questions. "So who are the Cetaceans?"

"Largely unimportant. Now if you're through wasting my time by asking about things you'll never understand, I'll take the starfish and be on my way."

With the force of a thousand suns, Dom leaped forward and seized Arthur by the arm. He drew his taser and pressed it against Arthur's abdomen. "Alright, I know you think you're real clever, but if you don't start cooperating, then you're gonna be getting ten thousand volts of my foot up your ass."

Despite the imminent threat of a tasing, Bottomfeeder seemed largely unphased. "If you have any more questions, ask away."

"Ha! Boy, have I ever got questions. I've got burning questions. Like, 'Why couldn't we find any trace of Squarepants for four months?' Or, 'Who's been leaving all these ridiculous business cards around?' Or, 'Why did Walt's body appear all over the island after he was captured?' But you want to know the one thing that's been on my mind more than anything else?"

Bottomfeeder responded with laughter. "And what, pray tell, would that be?"

"When I talked to that George fellow, he told me something. Something you told me yourself a few months back. He said I was special. What does that mean?"

Arthur went silent, and effortlessly pulled himself out of Dom's grasp. He pulled a chair from the bus station counter and took a seat. "Let me start from the beginning," he said.

"I used to be affiliated with a certain organization. We were called the Larideans, and we worked in parallel with and, at times, in opposition to three other groups, among them the Cetaceans. Our job was to find people who were special, who could see things others couldn't. Among these special people were our friend in the bag, Patrick Star, and you, Dominic Roughneck."

"And Squarepants?"

Arthur shook his head. "Spongebob was, unfortunately for him, not special. But in his unremarkability, he was actually quite remarkable; when we submitted him for testing, to see if he had the special skills required of a Laridean, we discovered that he showed absolutely zero inclination towards our abilities."

"Is that unusual?"

"Not just unusual," Arthur said, "it is almost completely unprecedented. In the history of our organization – and it is a long history indeed – there have been only a handful of cases in which a subject has been unresponsive to all tests. And, in Spongebob's particular case, there has been only one precedent."

Dom sat down across from Arthur. "What do you mean by 'particular case'? What is so special about that stupid sponge?"

Clearing his throat, Arthur continued. "There are several tests the Larideans administer. Some subjects prove to be more responsive to some tests than others. Patrick Star believed that Spongebob would respond to only one, what is called the 'Last-Resort Test'. And if somebody responds to only the Last-Resort Test? Well then, considering the precedent case, the Larideans would have no choice but to kill him."

"My god. What is this 'precedent case'?"

"The story of the test subject who only responded to the Last-Resort Test, or 'Subject Zero' as we call him, because it sounds cool, is not only very long, but also shrouded in mystery. No one is really sure of the facts, and what is known is kept very secret."

Dom was so amped at how much information he was ringing out of this perp. He wished so bad that he had successfully tased him and had been able to bring Bottomfeeder into the interrogation room. "So, what does all this have to do with me? Is it just because I was assigned to Squarepants's case?"

"No no no, you silly goose. I already told you, you're special. The Larideans have been watching you for quite some time, so it's only natural you would get wrapped up in all this. There have been some major changes as of late; one Ms. Poppy Puff was caught withholding crucial information concerning Patrick Star from the higher-ups, for instance. I myself have also defected from the Larideans, for personal reasons. And as for you? You, along with Patrick Star, are among the top candidates for the next leader of the Larideans. Like I said. Special."

"So, all this is because of your ridiculous little secret clubhouse that likes to pretend they can see the invisible? Honestly, I haven't heard of such a cooky cult since the Rock Bottom Glove Worshippers. So those Larideans sent Patrick Star to take me in for some of their tests?"

Arthur nodded. "As far as I can tell, that is correct. Patrick Star and I once worked very closely together, though he has been increasingly loyal to the Larideans recently. He told me it was the only way to protect Spongebob."

"And you told me he was coming, so you could get him back onto your side?" It was all coming together. Dom got all ready to say "Book'em, Carl" when he remembered that Carl was still in the hospital.

"Unfortunately, that is not the case. While I did take this opportunity to capitalize on the situation and get Star back in my custody, I was not the one who warned you of his coming."

Dom stood up and adopted a tasing stance. "Well if you didn't, who did?"

"That," said a voice from the door, "would have been me."

A hulking fish was entering the bus station. He had a kelp bar in one hand and a gun in the other. "My name is George Minkus," he said, "and I'm here to kill you sons of bitches."