Hi there! I have some things to say. Firstly, I apologize for deleting this story so suddenly and without explanation. There were certain circumstances that made me do it; I won't mention what they are, as they are too personal, but anyways. If you are someone who has already read this story and you like it, thank you. I appreciate your support. However, if you are new to this, please note that this story contains things such as coarse language (bad words), dirty humor (sexual jokes), and the characters acting hostile (so, kind of OOC. But that's part of the plot, trust me lol). If you do not like any of those sorts of things, well, I advise you not to continue reading after this note. But if you are adventurous (like moi) then you might just like it, haha. Thank you for reading.
This story is dedicated to one of my good friends (and an awesome writer), MiguelPescado!
Disclaimer: I do not own SpongeBob SquarePants or any of its characters. I do, however, own this story.
Truth Smoothie
Saturday evening, 6:30 p.m. in Sandy's Treedome…
To say that the past six days of the week for Bikini Bottom's somewhat mad scientist Sandy Cheeks had been busy would be quite an understatement.
Especially since she had been spending all her precious, air-breathing time every bright, summer day and dark night, working her tail off to create the perfect smoothie in her obnoxiously loud blender that was powered by her exercise wheel.
Needless to say, in the process of all the chemical and fruit-mixing, she also managed to lose a good five pounds when blending everything.
Frying two fish in one skillet was just the way the squirrel rolled.
Staying up until dawn just to go through trial and error to complete a cold beverage that many people considered to be a breakfast item seemed like a strange and unnecessarily stressful endeavor. And it was, but Sandy was the most determined Texan scientist in all of Bikini Bottom.
Well, she was really the only Texan scientist in Bikini Bottom.
Of course, Sandy would have given herself some slack and taken a break from the exhausting activities once in a while; she was a hard-worker, but she also knew how important it was to give that big brain of hers a good, long rest so that she would be as refreshed as possible to continue her work. After all, a person feeling as though their eyes were turning to rocks in their head, and their mind becoming as cloudy as a filthy fish tank would most certainly inhibit them from making their already brilliant ideas even brighter.
However, Sandy had no minute in the world to waste with the pressure of her three chimpanzee bosses from Tree Dome Enterprises Limited coming back on Sunday to finish their latest inspection of her work.
They didn't raise her salary fourteen years ago for nothing.
Dr. Marmalade, Lord Reginald, and Professor Percy traveled from the surface world and came by the beloved Treedome at the beginning of the week before. And, them being as fussy and judgmental as they naturally were, they were moderately unimpressed with the slew of gadgets – big, medium, small, and every other size possible – that had been crafted into existence by Sandy's own mammalian hands.
The three monkey-men had, unbelievably, only examined about half of the contraptions inside the air-dome; the place looked more crowded than a mechanic shop, and it was just as untidy, too, which didn't help in the way of them keeping their faith in her.
Though their reaction to her inventions wasn't the worst it could have possibly been, it still pressed down on her heart and made it flip in her chest at the same time. There weren't many things in life that managed to bring Sandy down, as she was usually as enthusiastic as a hummingbird searching for sweet nectar. But those hairy bosses of hers were some of the biggest exceptions when it came to dragging her into losing hope, and also making her as nervous as the cats that she so despised.
Trying to keep that ounce of positivity alive, Sandy promised the three that they would certainly be impressed by at least something she had made. And if all else failed, she would work on something that would rip the peels right off their bananas. Not literally, of course. She had accomplished that already when they discovered that her nutcracking machine was the perfect banana peeler that they had been searching 117 years for.
Sandy had made that promise while still filled with self-doubt, but right when they were leaving, it didn't take long for that sharp mind of hers to instantly envision her new invention as if it was a movie scene playing inside of the most vivid dream anyone could ever have.
If this whacky idea didn't work, she did have the whole other half of the Treedome full of scattered inventions to rely on to impress them.
Nevertheless, she was hoping that this would indeed work. And what better way to find out if it worked for sure than to test it on herself and a couple of good pals?
SpongeBob and Patrick, staying hydrated with the water-filled helmets over their heads, sat quietly together on one end of the picnic table, their backs facing the darkening underwater sky that could be seen from inside the polyurethane home.
Right now, the two would be in Jellyfish Fields, laying out on the moist grass and staring out into the wonderful beauty of the orange, pink, purple and blue hues that adorned parts of the endless abyss of outer space, but summer was far from over; gazing at the horizon was something that they could do any night.
Being there to help their smart, squirrelly friend was of the utmost importance this evening.
Especially to SpongeBob, who was almost always willing to drop whatever it was that he was doing to be there for her in any way that he could. Patrick was the same way, but SpongeBob's case was far more, one could say, intense when it came to how much he cared to help her. And Sandy surely was grateful to him for it.
After all, they were "tighter than bark on a tree."
Sandy squinted her eyes like she was staring into the Sun as she examined the consistency of the whitish-yellow liquid below her on the table.
She would lift the lid off the blender, add in a few dashes of chemicals (which could potentially kill them, but anything for science, right?) A little splash of water here, a ripened banana there, she'd run over to the exercise wheel and sweat for a minute or two, and then repeat the process. She would've had either one of the doofuses sitting opposite of her run the machine for her, but they had already tried it earlier and failed miserably.
Seeing them lose their footing and spin around on the wheel like hamsters until they flew off and were smashed against the side of the dome was admittedly hysterical, but Sandy cared more about them getting hurt, and her house potentially cracking and breaking than about her own amusement.
SpongeBob and the dimwitted starfish next to him stared blankly as Sandy continued adding the odd and normal-looking ingredients to the smoothie.
"I don't get it," said Patrick, his face giving off that usual clueless look that was like the expression of a cow from the land of the surface.
"Don't get what, Patrick?" SpongeBob asked, finally breaking his gaze from Sandy and setting it on his friend.
"Why is Sandy 'inventing' something that already exists?" Patrick picked at the lint in his belly button.
"You mean the smoothie?"
"Pft," Patrick huffed mockingly, rolling his eyes. "Yeah. People have been making 'em for years. It's nothing groundbreaking."
"Bahahaha!" SpongeBob laughed, holding onto his stomach and shutting his eyes. "Oh, Patrick. That reminds me – remember how you kept pulling out random objects and saying you invented them the last time Sandy's bosses were gonna come here? Bahaha! Oh, looking back on it makes me laugh."
Patrick, having the memory come back to smack him upside his pointy, empty head, was rather offended by being made fun of by this big, yellow cube with holes, who claimed to be his "best friend".
"Hey, I still say somebody was stealing my ideas!" he pouted, crossing his arms over his chest.
As if he couldn't get any more childish.
"Anyways, Patrick, Sandy's smoothie isn't just an ordinary smoothie – it's a truth smoothie," SpongeBob smiled knowingly.
"Oh, yeah…" Patrick's smile disappeared faster than the feast of food he had eaten for breakfast that morning. "I still don't get it."
"Don't you remember the story Sandy told us last week?"
"Mmm…" Patrick squinted, rubbing his helmet where his chin would be. "I don't know," he shrugged, "something about the three hairy guys having an argument?"
SpongeBob couldn't help but smile at the way his friend was so forgetful sometimes (not to mention as dense as the rock he slept under).
"Y-yeah…" SpongeBob's mouth fell into a straight line for a moment, then quickly curved back into his typical cheerful smile. "Something like that." Wrapping a brotherly arm around Patrick's chubby shoulder, SpongeBob leaned into his side. "Here, allow me to jog your memory, old friend."
Flashback…
Sandy rubbed her furry knuckle with her other hand, and her face was that of a scared, innocent child, which was as rare for her as it was for Patrick to bathe, or for SpongeBob to lose his temper. Even for Mr. Krabs to be generous.
"I surely appreciate y'all comin' by and takin' the time to inspect things today, gentlemen," Sandy said timidly as she walked the three men across the warm dome towards the steel front door. "I apologize that my inventions weren't as promisin' as you were hopin' for."
The way that those chimps simultaneously turned around as if they were robotic machines, with eyes that were focused on staring through her soul like the eyes of a father readying himself to scold his offspring made not just the fur on the back of her neck to stand up, but on every inch of her body as well.
Truly, the primates were not nearly as frightening as some of the creatures that Sandy had fought against throughout her lifetime – the Alaskan Bull Worm included. But not every living being she came in contact with had to be intimidating in just the way that they looked. The words and attitudes of these men could sometimes make her believe she was going to be mentally shot dead like a wild animal losing its life to the gun of a hunter.
It wasn't exactly that she was scared of them, personally, although they did give her lots of reasons to be. It had more to do with the fact of what they thought of her inventions, and just like the last time they showed up many years in the past, it was just as nerve-wracking.
"It was our pleasure, Miss Cheeks. After all, it is our duty to ensure that our research money is still being well-spent," said Professor Percy, lifting his chin up high and gradually scanning the messy place with haughtiness. "And from what I can see, that has yet to be confirmed once more this time around."
"I agree," Dr. Marmalade said, crossing his massive arms over his chest. The size difference between all of them was both astonishing and hilarious.
Sandy's eyes shifted warily to each person as they spoke. It was Lord Reginald's turn to voice his snooty opinion, which Sandy was dreading the most because he had been the quietest one there that day.
"Indeed," Lord Reginald breathed out slowly, pushing his small glasses further back onto his nose. "Although, I must say, Miss Cheeks, we will continue to keep our faith in you until you have proven yourself unworthy… which we hope will never be the case, of course."
Sandy sunk her large buckteeth into her lower lip, trying to relieve the pulsating stress that circulated throughout her system. "I couldn't agree more, Lord Reginald. I'm fairly positive that y'all will be impressed by at least one of these other gadgets I've got layin' around. But just in case, in the meantime, I'll do my best to come up with somethin' that'll win ya for sure. I promise."
She spoke with the fakest yet realest-sounding confidence possible; she hadn't doubted herself this much since the last time they had visited. At this moment, she was crossing her fingers behind her back and praying with desperation that Neptune would show her some new sign or miracle that she would be able to make it through this test, and she remained secretly unsure if any of the other inventions that they had yet to examine would be of any help with that.
"Well then, that sounds splendid. We'll be looking forward to said 'promise' you've just made. We shall return this next Sunday to also see just exactly what else you have in store for… eh…" Professor Percy glanced around the room once more, thinking of a better way to phrase his sentence. "In dome for us. Come now, gentlemen. Let us proceed out to the curb in order to climb aboard our— "
"Technically, Professor Percy, it isn't really a curb where our vehicle sits. There is no concrete stone in sight; only the sand and the asphalt."
Professor Percy raised an eyebrow, his face growing in mild irritation as he looked up at the humongous chimpanzee, who was extremely smart but oftentimes looked as oaf-like as that Mr. Dr. Professor Patrick, whom they had met years before.
"Yes, well…" Percy adjusted his glasses, "that is indeed true, Dr. Marmalade. I shall like to…" his eyelids twitched, and his lips moved, but it seemed that his brain was having difficulty allowing words to come through. "T-t-thank you for the correction, albeit an unnecessary one."
"But of course, Percy." Dr. Marmalade smiled cluelessly, clasping his hands behind his back. "It's always a pleasure to offer my helpful and precise explanations when needed."
"Also, rather infuriating explanations, I might add."
The other two smart alecks leaned forward to look at the smallest chimp, Lord Reginald after he had mumbled what they thought sounded like an insult under his breath.
"What was that, Lord Reginald?" asked Dr. Marmalade, raising his eyebrow even higher than Percy had.
"Yes, what was it that you said?"
"Hm? Oh, nothing, gentlemen! Nothing at all," he forced a smile, then lifted his blue parasol and stuck it out forcefully toward the exit. Though the object was small, it was still rather invasive to have it almost smack them any time he would point it at something as if it were a weapon.
He, of course, chose to be oblivious in the most superior way possible to his bad habit.
"Now, shall we proceed— "
"I say, Lord Reginald, do you think it would be possible to not…" Percy hesitated, "stab us with your folding canopy when physically referring to the door or other things? It really does get quite— "
Even Sandy was holding her breath at that almost threatening look on Reginald's old face.
Whatever word Percy was going to finish with was most intriguing to the chimp. Would that word happen to be what described the look on each of their faces whenever one of them would get on each other's nerves, such as this instance?
"Do go on, Professor Percy," Reginald smiled widely and cheerily with his mouth, but his eyes remained like smug portals to a world full of egomaniacs.
Percy's expression had grown fully into a field of regret upon realizing what he'd almost let slip. "Quite, eh… quite charming. It is very charming the way you nearly jab us in the chest with your accessory. Is it not, Dr. Marmalade?" he looked up at him to finally avoid Reginald's piercing gaze.
"Oh, yes. Quite, hm, hm," Marmalade chuckled in his low-sounding voice. "In fact, I can't think of anything more charming than that."
"While I would certainly agree wholeheartedly with that statement, I must still disagree to a certain extent. I think it would be even more charming if one of us were to use a breath mint once in a while, such as right now, as we have a long journey ahead of us…"
The two chimps and Sandy flinched in surprise when Percy turned around quicker than a flash of lightning and pulled out a small, square, white box that contained the breath refreshers that he was speaking of. He popped the lid of it open with his finger and grinned. "Or perhaps more than one of us should."
After sharing a confused and borderline insulted glance, the other two felt they had the right to question the motives behind his words.
"Professor Percy," Reginald cleared his throat, "is it possible you are insinuating that foul stenches effuse from the speaking holes known as our mouths?"
"Yes," Dr. Marmalade furrowed his eyebrows, "is that what you are insinuating? And by the way, come to think of it, we needn't worry about such matters, Professor Percy; we will be putting on our air helmets rather shortly."
"Oh!" Percy shook his head, carefully picking out two small and round chewable pieces. "Good heavens, no! I am aware of that, gentlemen. I am simply saying that it is important to keep your jaws from locking up due to lack of movement." His over-the-top smile became more relaxed as he handed them the mints. "There you are."
In that case, I'd say chewing gum would be more effective… or y'all could just talk, Sandy thought. What in tarnation is goin' on with these three?
"Of course, then again, we will be confined in our own air spaces, and, therefore, it is possible that some of us will have to endure the horrible oral aromas given off by our own 'speaking holes'," Percy finished, showing a sly smile.
Dr. Marmalade stared down with disinterest at the tiny candy in his huge palm. "Mm, thank you, Professor Percy. Do remember to take one for yourself…" he became the first to continue the walk towards the steel exit. "Or take several, actually… perhaps even the rest of what's in the container."
If the other two weren't standing right across from her, Sandy would have stuck a cotton swab in her earhole to clean it out and make sure that she heard what she thought she had.
The looks on their faces were as priceless as Squidward's face whenever something didn't go his way.
"Uh, here! Allow me," said Sandy as she raced to the door, twisted the handle and pulled it open, causing it to creak loudly.
The four said their goodbyes. As the chimps slowly made their way to the yellow vehicle outside, Sandy's eyes were glued to each movement they made.
By this time, Sandy had already thought deeply about the strange interactions between her bosses; the way that their faces told of how much they were trying to conceal their true emotions, the small and subtle insults being thrown everywhere, the held-back frustration in their voices – she didn't recall them acting in such a way before, but whatever changed had changed quite some time ago, because the animosity in the air seemed to have been lingering for ages, and it appeared to be most stressful for them.
Thinking about it all reminded her of the different ways that she had casually observed the behavior of the Bikini Bottomites over the years, in places like the park, the beach or even the grocery store. It was the same story when she was living back in Texas; people wanting to speak their minds and tell their truths, but without having to deal with the hostility that came with it and also afterward.
It wasn't even "strange" at all; it was a normal emotional and phycological part of being a person, and it was suddenly more fascinating to her than ever before.
If only there was a way to make letting out pent-up irritation and opinions a little easier, and possibly smoother.
Putting those other inventions in the back of her head now, there was a fresh, new, exciting, and seemingly very helpful idea blowing itself into existence in her thoughts like the way that SpongeBob would blow a bubble through his wand.
That mindful and devious smile that often danced across Sandy's face had returned to waltz on her features.
Eureka!
End of flashback.
"…And that, Patrick, is the whole reason that Sandy is creating her truth smoothie." SpongeBob said happily, closing his eyes and finishing the long spiel that Patrick had already previously heard from Sandy, but couldn't remember to save his lazy life. "Makes sense, right?"
Patrick's eyes were as blank as his mind. He shook his head and shifted his gaze around the room, then pointed a finger (if he even had any) at himself. "Were you talking to me?"
"Phew!"
Serving as a distraction for SpongeBob so that he couldn't get annoyed with Patrick for not listening to a word he had said the entire time that he told the story, Sandy jumped down from the giant exercise wheel for the final time, her bare feet crashing down upon the cool grass that had been watered not long ago.
Sandy walked back up to the picnic table, sweat dripping down her forehead, and her eyelids sitting halfway over her warm, brown irises. She stared at the clipboard in her hands, using a perfectly sharpened pencil to check off the second to last box on her list of things to do for the smoothie.
"Alrighty," she breathed, "looks like our little elixir is almost done, you guys! I think I might just need to add a few more pinches of my ingredients here, and we'll be all set to test it out." She sighed contently, placing her hands on her hips after setting the clipboard down on the table and looking upon her two friends with a friendly smile. "Y'all just 'bout ready to get down to it?"
"Oh, yeah!" SpongeBob brightly exclaimed, throwing his thin, yellow arms up in the air and showing off those shiny, white buckteeth. "We sure are ready, Sandy! I've been saving my appetite all day for this," he bit his lip, then looked to his left again. "How about you, Patrick?"
Immediately, Sandy knew how ridiculous that question was for SpongeBob to ask, as Patrick was never able to save his appetite for anything.
"Hm," Patrick shrugged, pulling out a large puff of cotton from his belly button as he glanced up at the ceiling to think "Let's see: All I had this morning was three slices of barnacle toast with butter, I had a… stack of twelve pancakes with that awesome chocolaty syrup they sell at Barg'N Mart – it's really great, you guys should try it!" he smiled giddily at them both, making Sandy roll her eyes. "Oh! A-and I also had six eggs; fried, not hardboiled," he shook his head to emphasize how much he dreaded the idea of eating something that was cooked more healthily.
SpongeBob rested his chin on his palm as if this was going to take several hours but still kept that overly happy smile.
Patrick counted the items on his hand. "Let's see, what else… hmmm… Oh! Oh, and I had two pink-frosted doughnuts, with sprinkles," his smile grew. "And then to top everything off, I had a great, big bowl of that old peanut onion sundae you made a long time ago, SpongeBob! Thanks for giving me the recipe for it." He leaned back slightly, placing his arms behind his head. "As you can tell, I have mastered the art of cooking."
Sandy's countenance was a mixture of a twisted scowl and a look in her eyes that was the definition of boredom. She had many thoughts going through her head at the moment, including something that sounded as though it could come from someone like Squidward.
'Mastered' the art of cookin', huh? Well, even with the way it sounds, I still doubt that he's a master at that. But he is a master at bein' a glutton.
Although, Sandy knew better than to say such a thing out loud, as she was often guilty of eating too much herself.
She didn't want to be labeled as a hypocrite tonight.
But while adding the finishing touches to the beverage that was designed to bring the whole truth out of people, there was a big possibility that such a thing could happen, after all.
It was also possible that she wouldn't be the only one revealed to be a hypocrite, among other things.
"Sooo, in that case," SpongeBob began, lifting his chin from his palm. "You didn't save your appetite?"
"Wha— " Patrick furrowed his eyebrows, slightly angered by SpongeBob's gut-wrenching accusation. "Why, SpongeBob SquarePants, of course, I did! Oh… n-no, wait… no, I didn't! Or did I? Oh!" he frustratingly shook his head into his hands. "I'm so confused! What does 'appetite' mean again, SpongeBob? I've already forgotten!"
There wasn't anything SpongeBob enjoyed more than helping out a friend. So, naturally, this was his time to become like a talking dictionary for his bestest pal, who was giving him that wide-eyed, sweet and adorable look that Gary gave him whenever he wanted more treats.
"Well, Patrick, it simply means that— "
"Oh, don't even try to trouble yourself, SpongeBob," Sandy interrupted, sticking a wooden spoon into the blender and swirling the mixture around while keeping eye contact with her spongy friend. "It doesn't really matter all that much whether you guys ate or not anyway. Either way, this stuff should be potent enough – more potent than a cowboy's favorite whiskey – to drag the truth right out of ya! However, according to all my calculations, it ain't gonna make us any harsher than a drunk. If anything, the truth should come out smoother than a calm, peaceful wave at Goo Lagoon."
While SpongeBob's attention was pulled away from Patrick by her attitude and lovely smile, the starfish himself just came to a very important realization.
"Hey, wait a minute… does the word 'appetite' have something to do with food?" he stared at SpongeBob, who had begun to gaze off into space; space that was being taken up by Sandy.
"Well, does it?"
"Y-yeah, yeah, Patrick. It does," SpongeBob wiggled his fingers at him as he tried to concentrate on keeping his heartbeat in check while that wonderful squirrel in front of him stirred the smoothie and began pouring it into three empty glasses.
"Well," Sandy said, checking off the last box on her clipboard. "We're all set, boys. Now, keep in mind that this is the first full test of this experiment, k?" she asked slowly, looking up at them thoughtfully while they nodded like sheeple.
Sandy sent Patrick's glass across the table, the bottom of it sliding smoothly along the red and white checkered picnic cloth.
"Oh, boy!" Patrick said excitedly, licking his lips at the thought of consuming something else that was sugary. He lifted his helmet off, setting it down beside him so that he could guzzle the drink until he looked up at Sandy again, noticing the stern look in her eyes.
"And also keep in mind that because this is the first full test, ya gotta drink it slowly, okay? Like I said, it's pretty potent, so you've gotta give it the time to absorb properly. Understood?"
"Pffft," Patrick gave another roll of his eyes. "Whatever… Mom." He glared.
Sandy refrained from shaking her head at the hostility that threatened to burst out of Patrick. But her expression quickly livened up when she leaned forward to hand SpongeBob his glass.
"You understand, don't ya, SpongeBob?" she smiled softly at the sight of his pretty, blue eyes that focused themselves on her in a rather affectionate way.
"Aye, aye, Miss Cheeks!" he saluted her, earning a chuckle from her. "I'd do anything in the world for my girl." He smiled sweetly.
It seemed Sandy's face was suddenly impervious to the breeze being given by the large, black fan blowing in the back of the room, because a light pink tint gradually appeared on her cheeks, and her skin felt hot as embers.
"W-what'd ya… say, SpongeBob?"
Much like the fan in the room not affecting Sandy's face, the cold water inside SpongeBob's helmet did not prevent his freckled cheeks from burning bright red. "Oh! Uh, heh, heh," he chuckled, taking off his helmet. "I said I'd do anything for you, girl! Ha, ha, ha!"
"You forgot the 'in the world' part," Patrick said nonchalantly, sticking his finger in the smoothie and twirling it around.
They hadn't even drunk the invention yet, and hidden truths were already slipping out.
"Why, thanks! I surely appreciate that. I'd do anything for you, too…" Sandy finally sat down again, gripping the glass while trying to think of an appropriate response that didn't sound weird. "Boy… you know what? Forget I said that. Let the experiment begin, fellers!"
"Alright!" SpongeBob and Patrick cheered in unison, lifting their glasses up high and clanking them against each other.
"And remember," Sandy held up her palm to them, "drink slowly."
"Slowly, gotcha… whatever that means," said Patrick before he proceeded to do just that, despite forgetting what it meant.
"Boy, I sure hope this works, Sandy. If it does, it's sure to impress your bosses!" SpongeBob said, smiling and lifting the glass to his lips.
"I'll be madder than bees in a disturbed hive if it doesn't work, SpongeBob," Sandy shook her head. "But not to worry; I worked my tail off on this thing for six days straight, and I am pretty gall-darned sure it's gonna be a success. Here goes nothin'!"
"Five to ten minutes of slow slurping later…" said the French narrator.
"Ahhhh," was the relaxed and satisfied sound made by the three friends as they set their now-empty glasses down. They looked up at each other, all wearing smoothie mustaches.
"So, are y'all feelin' any different just yet?" Sandy asked, glancing back and forth between the two men.
"Nope, not yet. Not if you don't count my bladder as it's filling up," Patrick plainly stated, as if they cared to know that much information.
"I feel the same so far." Before putting his helmet back on, SpongeBob licked and smacked his lips together, enjoying the sweet taste that luckily was strong enough to hide any flavor from the chemicals. "Gee, that smoothie sure was banana-packed, bahaha!"
"Yessiree, it was! Besides hopefully makin' it out to be a great invention, I figured I might as well make it extra-appealin' to my bosses, too."
SpongeBob's childish smile grew wider when he realized the good verbal material Sandy had just provided him with. "I'd have to agree," he squinted in a bratty manner. "For fellas who enjoy the yellow fruit so much, it certainly will be very a-peeling. Bahahaha!"
"Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!"
Sandy and SpongeBob laughed their hearts out; Sandy banging her fist on the table while SpongeBob slapped his knee repeatedly. They were having a fun, carefree time.
Patrick, on the other hand, not so much.
The old, dusty attic that was his brain was beginning to get swept of its cobwebs and mental blockages as he stuck his long tongue inside the glass, sucking up every last drop of the smooth goodness.
"Bahahaha!" SpongeBob's cackles continued, and he held onto Patrick's shoulder to stop himself from tumbling off the bench. "Oh!" he squeaked breathlessly, "that was a good one, wasn't it, Patrick?"
Sandy was the first to notice the bland, dead-serious look on the starfish's face as he shrugged and set the glass back down.
SpongeBob, noticing that Sandy's giggles had faded, quickly followed suit. "Patrick?"
"Well, wasn't it a good one, Pat?" she asked, staring at him.
"Mm, not really," Patrick folded his arms, showing a conceited and tired-looking scowl. His face didn't even look like his own anymore. He was known to become serious, annoyed and even smart sometimes, but this was unlike anything the other two had ever witnessed, especially when he decided to let them know his full, true opinion of SpongeBob's humor.
"To be honest, it was as stale and lame as all the other fifty-plus jokes you tell all the time, SpongeBoring RepetitivePants."
It was safe to say that this invention of Sandys' was successful.
Very successful.
And it was already obvious that things weren't going to go as smoothly as they thought.
That "calm, peaceful wave" was soon to turn into a tsunami.