Hey, all! This is my first dedication story, and the user in question is none other than Dreamer1920! She's inspired me to write something a little darker and more mature than the usual SpongeBob episode. I hope you enjoy!

It was nearly closing time at the Krusty Krab, and SpongeBob was cheerfully mopping the day's mess away, humming a little tune to himself as he dipped the mop one final time into the bucket of soapy water. Realizing an idea that had just popped into his head, SpongeBob thought for a moment, then decided to, instead, dip himself into the bucket. He stuck the mop handle through one of his top pores, and used himself to mop and soak up more of the residue of spills caused earlier that day.

"Now that's more like it!" SpongeBob said as he appraised his own work. "SpongeBob has been scientifically proven to kill 99.99% of germs with only one use! The other 0.01%, however, requires a little more elbow grease!" He dipped himself into the mop bucket again, throughly saturating himself in suds, then began cleaning the same area once again.

Mr. Krabs opened the door and scuttled out of his office, surprised to see SpongeBob still there. "What're ye doin' boyo?" he asked in his gruff, salty voice. "You already cleaned that aree-er, go home!" Mr. Krabs didn't say this because he cared about his employee's well-being; he cared more about the possibility that he might have to pay SpongeBob overtime for his working after hours.

SpongeBob looked up at his boss. "Oh, don't worry, Mr. Krabs! I'm almost done," he gurgled. Mr. Krabs crossed his arms, assessing SpongeBob's previous work. "Boy, if the Krusty Krab were any cleaner, I'd have to change the name to the Squeaky-Clean Crab!" he cried out. "I know ye want to be thorough, but you already are! Now go home, that's an order!"

SpongeBob wrung himself out. "You're right, sir! I can always take care of that minuscule amount of microbes later," he agreed, as he pulled the mop out of his head and stuck it into the bucket. He then emptied the bucket into the sink and stored it and the mop safely into the closet. "Good night, Mr. Krabs, sir!" SpongeBob waved to his boss. "Good night, me boy!" Mr. Krabs replied, returning the wave.

SpongeBob walked out of the restaurant and into the street. It was nighttime, and the seas were painted with various shades of purple and pink. SpongeBob had never really been a fan of the dark, but today, it seemed a little extra ominous. He took up a brisk walking pace, wanting to get to his pineapple as soon as possible.

SpongeBob froze in place as he heard a clatter from somewhere nearby. "W-who's there?" he asked timidly. No response. SpongeBob went into a jog, his shoes squeaking, which seemed louder than usual against the complete silence of the night.

Suddenly, he heard another pair of squeaky footsteps approaching, and he quickly turned around.

"Stay back! I've got a spatula, a-and I'm not afraid to use it!" he squeaked, hoping he sounded tough enough to ward off whoever seemed to be following him. The footsteps stopped. SpongeBob cautiously assessed his surroundings behind him, then, finding nothing amiss, shrugged, then continued walking. A few seconds later, he seemed to slip on a scratchy, green rug, falling flat on his face on top of it.

"Barnacles! I really wish people would be more careful with their trash," SpongeBob groaned, rubbing his nose. He picked up the strange rug that should've looked familiar to him, but because of the poor illumination of the sea under the moon that reflected onto the surface, he didn't give it a second thought. SpongeBob rolled up the rug and tossed it into the nearest garbage can, then continued walking.

As SpongeBob walked away, the strange rug inside the trash can began to come to life, quickly sprouting arms and legs and climbed out of the trash can. The now anthropomorphic rug fell to its knees as more features popped into place: eyes, a long nose, a body, and finally a mouth with very familiar-looking buck teeth. The creature got up in the shadow of the alley, and only its eyes were visible as it uttered its first foreboding words: "I'm ready," it said in its new high-pitched, grating, squeaky voice, then laughed like a demonic dolphin with its head stuck in a plastic six-pack ring.