Hello! Thanks a lot to everyone for reading and to Dreamer 1920, Skillet-Writer and umi for the reviews! It makes really happy to know you enjoy these little stories.
Also, while I originally planned for this to be a two-shot, now I think I might expand on this story based on what I have established in these drabbles. I already have an idea for two future plots, I have to think better about the details. Any suggestions are welcome
Anyway, I hope you enjoy the chapter!
On-time
"It's okay little one, I'm not going to hurt you." Frenchy said to the little fish trapped inside the net as he tried to cut it open with a sharp rock. His wet Mr. Krabs' motley soon became heavy. It was a good thing Frenchy was used to wearing hefty outfits.
Once the net was cut open, he carefully grabbed the fish and dragged it back to freedom. The fish looked at him and swam around him, rubbing its head against him in gratitude.
"It was nothing, mon ami. Now go, and never come back." Frenchy smiled and watched the fish disappear into the ocean. It wasn't until it was out of sight that he decided to swim back to the shore.
"Oh heavens, it's sea Bigfoot!" screamed a man that saw Frenchy coming out of the water. He ran away so quickly that Frenchy didn't have time to stop him.
"That's the third time I've scared that guy this week." Frenchy said, ignoring the curious eyes of the rest of the beachgoers. More than afraid, they were curious of the strange man who decided to go for a swim wearing a stupid motley instead of swimming trunks. "At this pace, he'll turn me into some kind of urban legend, or a funny anecdote to tell his therapist."
Frenchy ignored the occasional mocking jab and confused glares people threw at him on his way to the Trusty Slab.
"Frenchy! This is the third time you've arrived late. And considering you've only worked here for three days, that means you have an on-time percentage of cero per cent." Mr. Slabs exclaimed at him as soon as he entered the establishment. "And look at you! You always come to work all wet and smelling of sea water. That's not the image I want me employees to give to me costumers."
"I'm sorry, Monsieur Slabs." Frenchy gave him an apologetic chuckle. "It won't happen again."
"I'm sorry too, because you've left me no choice but to fire—"
"Mr. Slabs, please." Said JimBob, who had been eavesdropping form the kitchen. "Don't be so hard on Frenchy. He's still new; besides, he just misses his old job and can't help himself from going on daily morning swims on the beach. Right Frenchy?"
"Yeah, precisely that." Frenchy said, relieved for the sudden excuse JimBob had offered him. "I'm just so used to being at sea. Old habits die hard."
Mr. Slabs squinted; his hands were firmly placed on his hips.
Frenchy gulped. I'm so fired. And it only took three days, that's a new record.
"Alright." Mr. Slabs sighed. "Just be sure it doesn't happen again. And here, mop the floor before more costumers arrive. The last thing I want is for one of them to take me to court because he slipped on one of your puddles."
He gave Frenchy a mop. Frenchy obeyed him without complaints. He didn't appreciate the extra work, but he didn't resent it either.
It was a small price to pay for the lives of little fish and the many other sea creatures he had saved the previous days.
Overall, he didn't regret it.
He whistled as he mopped the floor with enthusiasm.
"I almost forgot." Mr. Slabs said, suddenly appearing from behind the door of his office. "Every minute you arrive late is a dollar I'll take from your paycheck. Those are the rules here boy!"
Frenchy's whistling stopped as if someone had punched him in the stomach.
"You're joking" he said to Mr. Slabs, only to discover he was no longer there ", mon diue, he's not joking.
He collapsed on the floor like a swooning maiden.
"You better get used to it." Manward grunted as he continued to read the newspaper. "You damn neophyte."
Proof
"Don't let it upset you, dear."
"But he screamed it in front of everyone! They all laughed, even JimBob. You know you're pathetic when JimBob laughs at you."
"Well, if you want to…" Karen made a long pause ", I could prove them wrong."
Charleston's dinner escaped his hands. Soon, crumbs were scattered all over the floor. He pressed his headphones against his ears so closely he could hear Karen's breathing.
"You'd do that?" he whispered, "are you sure?"
"Yes. It's not as if I enjoy Slabs calling me 'your imaginary lover' at every chance he gets. Maybe it's time I show him that I really exist. I say we prove it to him tomorrow, then we'll see who's laughing."
"Karen," Charleston was holding back tears "you're the best long-distance wife a long-distance husband could ever have."
"Tell me something I don't know." Karen said smugly. Then, she added with a flirty voice "Hey, it's almost midnight. Do you want to, you know…watch our late-night program?"
Charleston grinned and immediately turned on the TV. "I thought you'd never ask. Are you watching it too, honey?"
"Oh yes, I'm watching it."
Tuned in the same channel, the long-distance couple watched the program on the privacy of each of their rooms.
A moment later, they laughed in unison.
"Did you see that? That guy got hit in the nuts with a coconut!"
Quaff
"Hello Trusty crew!" said a muscular man that entered the Trusty Slab, one slow Saturday morning.
"Great." Manward scoffed. "Just what my day needed. Another idiot."
"Larry!" JimBob came out of the kitchen to greet the buffy guy with a high five "It's been a while!"
"I know, sorry for not coming here more often. I've really missed this place." Larry put down a box on the floor and wiped small beads of sweat from his forehead with his giant forearms, "But I've been busy working on a new recipe—"
"Did someone say secret sauce recipe?!" Charleston screamed, emerging from under a table and blowing his cover. Larry, JimBob, Manward and the few costumers that were eating breakfast looked at him with equal surprise. Charleston just stood there, giggling and scratching his head awkwardly. "Dammit, they're unto us! Mission failed; don't worry Karen, we'll get them next time."
And with that, he made a dramatic escape through a window. Larry and JimBob watched him as he ran away toward the Crumb Basket.
"Anyway," continued Larry, as if nothing had happened, "as I was saying, I've been working on the perfect recipe for my new protein infused milkshakes," he took out a red can from the box and handed it to JimBob, "here, try one. It's strawberry flavored."
"Protein infused? Oh boy!" JimBob said with a smile "Does that mean it'll make me buff and strong like you?"
"Uhm," Larry shrugged ", yeah sure."
"That's great." SpongeBob prepared to take the first sip, "I hope Sandy loves the results."
"JimBob!" Mr. Slabs sudden scream made the fry cook choke on the drink and make a mess on the floor.
"I'm not cleaning that." Said Manward before anyone tried to suggest otherwise "On the other hand, I'm sure Frenchy would be more than happy to."
"Tu es un bâtard, Manward." Frenchy said from the kitchen, where he was washing the dishes.
"What?"
"In French, it means you're clever."
"Oh." Manward smiled with satisfaction and went back to reading a catalogue of tubas concealed by the newspaper "Yes, I know."
Meanwhile, Mr. Slabs went toward Larry and fulminated him with his eyes.
"Well, well. Look who's here." Mr. Slabs folded his arms, "Larry the mobster"
"Seriously? That was years ago. "Replied Larry "I swear, one awkward teen phase and you're labeled for life!"
"What do you want here, boy? You don't plan to tag your funny drawings and raunchy one-liners in the bathroom again, do you?"
"Come on Mr. Slabs, I was immature back then. I've changed." Larry said with sincerity. Then, he offered one of his canned milkshakes to Mr. Slabs, "And to show you I'm serious, I've come here with a business proposal. Would you like the Trusty Slab to be the first restaurant to serve my milkshakes? Not only are they tasty, but they also put meat on your bones. Your costumers will love them!"
"My costumers are mostly office employees, not gym addicted thugs, like some of us here."
"Okay, that's just rude."
"Try one, Mr. Slabs." Said JimBob, finally recovering his breath. "They taste really good. By the way, am I buff yet? Manward?"
"Yeah, whatever." Answered Manward without looking at JimBob. His answer made JimBob go crazy with happiness. He couldn't stop thinking how happy Sandy would be when she saw him after work.
"Well, they are a bit of fraud in the practical sense." Mr. Slabs observed as he opened his can ", however, I'm all about the taste. This is for free, right?"
"Yes." Larry sighed, not wanting to lose his business chance. "Drink as many of them as you want."
"Huh, maybe you're really a good guy now Larry, my boy. Maybe I was too harsh on you." Mr. Slabs said, a little apologetic. He then quaffed his free drink. "And this is delicious indeed! …Woah, has Manward's hair always been blue? And why is the roof talking to me? I think I should lay down for a while…be right back."
Mr. Slabs collapsed on the floor before the horrified eyes of Larry.
"Mr. Slabs?" he knelt next to the knocked-out man and slapped him a few times to make him react, but Slabs was as deeply asleep as a baby with a cozy blanket "Oh no."
"Okay mon amies, I'm done with the dishes. What did you want me to clean?" Frenchy announced coming out of the kitchen only to find JimBob kissing his skinny forearms, Manward reading a tuba magazine, a broken window with Charleston's figure on it, a knocked-out Mr. Slabs and a muscular guy making a run for it with a box on his hands. "Oh boy, this job is a little crazier that I'd expected, and I used to work with talking fishes!"
Rythym
Manward was carrying a big package. He quickly opened the door of his apartment and went inside before any of his neighbors could see him. Once in the safety of his home, he unwrapped the package with the help of a small knife.
His eyes watered at the beauty of the instrument now resting on his kitchen table.
"At last!" he exclaimed "my new tuba is here. I can't wait to play you tonight at the concert for masked musicians."
He laughed to himself and gazed at his dazzling instrument once more. It had costed him a fortune, which had meant a few months of eating nothing but left-overs from the Trusty Slab, but it had been worth it.
Manward took the tuba and went to put it inside his closet. He was proud of his love and talent for music, but it had never been something he wished other people to know about him.
Highschool had made sure that.
"You'll be safe here." He said sweetly to the tuba as he put it down on the closet's floor. When he crouched down, a wrinkly photo fell from the pocket of his shirt. "Huh? What's this? Ah, it's the photo of that octopus Frenchy gave me. Did I really put it in the washing machine together with my shirt? I'm getting clumsy…I hope JimBob's idiocy isn't airborne!"
He picked up the photo with the intention of putting it away on his night shelf, but after seeing it again, he became inspired.
The octopus, Squidward or whatever was his name, was playing the clarinet without any inhibitions.
According to Frenchy, he wasn't very good at it, but it didn't stop him from playing every day to his heart's content.
Manward had an epiphany.
If Squidward was able to play without reserves even if he had little talent, then why shouldn't Manward do the same when he was actually talented?
"No more hiding." Manward said with determination. He picked up his new tuba and put Squiward's phot back on his pocket. "It's time for the world to know the gift to music that is Edward Manward, the cashier!"
He played like never before. He followed the rhythm of his heart. His music had never been so beautiful.
"MANWARD!" Screamed someone, knocking at his door relentlessly. "Do you hear that awful sound? It must be the tsunami alert! Come on, let's get to the shelter quickly! I've already got Gary with me. Hurry!"
"JimBob, I've told millions of times never to talk to me while we are here." Manward said to his coworker and neighbor.
JimBob kept knocking. Just when Manward was about to open the door to tell him to go away, JimBob's fist punched through it as if it was made of paper.
"Oops, sorry." JimBob looked at a surprised Manward through the newly made hole. "Larry's milkshake worked a lot better than I expected."
Screen
"Gather up, idiots." Charleston said as he interrupted a peaceful night in the Trusty Slab "Today you'll learn a truth you'll never dare to question again."
"Oh, hi Charleston." JimBob was finishing his last tasks before he could go home. Sandy was also there, drinking a glass of water. "Sorry, we're about to close. It's not as if I could serve you a Slaby Patty anyway, but maybe you'd like something to drink? We have these new milkshakes that—"
"Quiet." Manward told him. "Get out of here Charleston. It's time to close and I don't want to waste ten minutes of my life watching how Mr. Slabs chases you around with a broom. I have somewhere to be tonight, you know."
"None of you will be leaving until I say so." Charleston laughed. He jumped on a table with a computer in hand. The screen showed only an image of a giant K with a green and stylized font. "Slabs! Where are you? Come out now! I have someone very important I want you to meet."
"What's all that noise?" Slabs came out of his office wearing a jacket and a hat. He looked at his nemesis and sighed heavily "Not today Charleston, I'm tired."
"Today is the day." Charleston put the computer closer to them. "Todays is when you finally meet my long-distance wife!"
Slabs, JimBob, Sandy and even Manward got closer to the computer.
"So…is the computer your wife?" Sandy guessed, and whispered to JimBob in the ear "I think he took his sea counterpart too seriously."
"No!" Charleston said. "Not the computer, but the woman behind it."
"Is there a woman behind the computer?" JimBob searched with a big smile and was disappointed when he found no one there.
"Oh heavens." Charleston rolled his eye. "Karen, just talk to these idiots already before they kill me with their one-neuron brains."
Everyone went silent, looking expectantly at the screen.
"Hello there." said a female voice. "I'm Karen. My long-distance husband has told me many things about all of you. Not many of them were flattering, so maybe we should just discuss something else."
"No way." Mr. Slabs said, totally incredulous.
"So all this time, Charleston really has been married?" Manward was as shocked as his boss.
"If you had me told that today this would happen, I'd have been very skeptical." Said Sandy with an arched eyebrow.
"Hello Karen!" JimBob waved at the screen with a hearty grin. "Nice to finally meet you!"
"So? Who's the lunatic with an imaginary lover now, Slabs?" Charleston spat at him. "Not me!"
"Well, me neither."
"That's not the point!" Charleston hugged the computer and kissed the screen. "Look at their faces Karen. Now no one will doubt us again. We win. WE WIN!"
"Hello everybody." Said Patrick, entering the Trusty Slab. "Hey JimBob, there's this masked musicians concert tonight and I thought we could—"
"Who's the chubby guy?" Said Karen "Is that Patrick? He fits the description."
Patrick's face became pale. He stared at the computer as if it was a beast ready to attack him. "Oh no, a possessed box! Don't worry, I'll get it!"
"Patrick, no!" JimBob screamed. He and the rest of his friends could only watch in horror as Patrick snapped the computer from Charleston's hands and slammed it against the floor Soon, it was little more than a mass of cables, chips and broken plastic.
"Karen!" Charleston knelt next to his destroyed computer and gently scooped some of the debris. "Karen! NO!"
"This is so sad." Manward said, putting a hand on his heart. "JimBob, play I'm a Goofy Goober."
"Come on, don't be like that." Sandy chided him as JimBob clung to her and cried for poor Karen. "Can't you see Charleston's serious about this?"
Charleston continued to cry as he clung to the remnants of his destroyed device.
"For heavens' sake, stop crying you twit!" Karen screamed at him from his headphones. "I swear, you're so dramatic."
"Oh, sorry." Charleston put himself together and stood up. "I just got carried away. Are you hurt, honey?"
"No, but the moment everything became static after Patrick destroyed the computer really scared me…"
"I know babe, I know. He scared me too." Charleston left the Trusty Slab as he cooed comforting words to his headphones.
"Well," said Mr. Slabs ", that was a roller coaster of emotions."
"More like ten minutes of my life I'll never recover." Manward grunted. "Now if you excuse me, I have to get out of here. The masked musicians concert begins soon and…forget it, see you."
"Oh yeah!" Patrick snapped his fingers. "That's why I came here. Do you and JimBob want to go, Sandy? I have tickets!"
"Sure." Sandy said while JimBob continued to cry on her shoulder. "As soon as I can make JimBob understand Karen is alive and well. This could take a while."
In the end, it took so long that by the time they arrived at the concert, the infamous Masked Tuba Man had already finished his performance amidst dozens of water bottles thrown at him and the energetic applause of his eccentric, number one French fan.
Twin
"So it was you who was running my traps and freeing the animals all this time. I should have known." Said a voice from behind Frenchy as he walked along the shore after having rescued more aquatic life "Jacques, my dear little brother."
Frenchy halted his steps and turned around. "It's been a while, Sy. Or should I call you...Cyclops?"
"Why would you call me that?" the man clad in a diving suit asked, genuinely confused.
"Don't you know? That's what the sea creatures call you." Frenchy threw a destroyed net at his brother's feet "The ones that manage to escape your dirty claws, that is. You're quite an infamous legend among them, you know?"
"Well, being infamous must be a family thing." Cyclops folded his arms. "After all, you're the Sea Bigfoot from the news, aren't you? I heard there's even a movie in production about you. I guess the myth is more interesting than the truth, but I know you, brother. You're nothing but an old coot working on a greasy restaurant. What happened to your other job?"
"None of your business."
"You got fired, didn't you?" Cyclops pointed at Frenchy and laughed. "Wait until I tell mère about this. She'll be so mad."
Those words sent shivers down Frenchy's spine.
"You wouldn't."
"I would," Cyclops approached him and whispered in his ear, "unless you help me with something. You see, Shell City is not doing very well. Tourists don't buy common knick-knacks anymore, they want unique things! So I was thinking, how about you bring me those creatures from that peculiar underwater town you used to study. Bikini Bottom, was it?"
Frenchy stepped back. If he hadn't been wearing his motley, his brother would have seen his horrified expression.
"What?"
"Come on. Don't' overreact, they're just dumb animals." Cyclops began to count with his fingers "I mostly want certain specimens. You know, the ones you once showed picture of to our mère. The silly sponge, the dim-witted starfish, the cynical octopus, the greedy crab, the conniving plankton and the cynical computer. Help me get them, and the news of your new job as the stupid mascot of a third-rate restaurant will be our secret."
Frenchy clenched his fists. The memories of the many days he had spent gazing at the residents of Bikini Bottom raced through his mind. The nostalgia about his old job almost made him cry.
"You can tell our mother whatever you want about me, brother. I won't stop you." Frenchy took a fighting stance. "But I will not let you harm those creatures. Never!"
Though his face was hidden, Frenchy knew Cyclops was red with anger.
"Oh yeah?" Cyclops snapped his fingers and neck, "Then bring it on!"
The twin brothers ran at each other and began fighting right in the middle of the beach, unaware that dozens of beachgoers, Patchy included, were recording them and cheering on them as if they were gladiators on a colosseum.
"This just in!" said a news reporter by the name of John Elaine that arrived to the beach minutes after the fight had started. "Sea Bigfoot finally attacks! A brave man wearing only a diving suit confronts him! Who will win? The hero, or the monster? Whoa!"
John Elaine fell to the sand after Patchy pushed him and took away his microphone. "Hey mom! Turn on the T.V, I'm on the news!"
Unleash
Patrick gazed at the chaos happening on the beach. He felt the same sensation that had taken over him when he heard the possessed box talk a few days ago in the Trusty Slab.
He had been afraid of being hurt. But above all, he had feared that his friends would get hurt. And now, who was going to protect all those people on the beach from the two monsters fighting each other?
Someone had to step in and bring order before someone got injured. Patrick would never forgive himself if that happened while he was present.
"It's time," he said as he took off his shorts and placed them on his head, blinding him completely, "for Patrick Man to return. I'm not the hero you need or want, but I'm the only hero there is! Don't worry, I'll keep this town safe!"
He practiced a heroic pose and screamed "Unleash the lazy power!"
He charged at the two monsters with the sole guidance of the noises they made.
"Look mom, a guy in underpants!"
"Hey you, put some damn pants on!"
Patrick interpreted those words as the people's way of encouraging him.
"Patrick Man to the rescue!" he shrieked as he lunged himself forward. Before they knew it, Frenchy and Cyclops became crushed under Patrick's heavy weight.
With that, the beach brawl came to an anticlimactic end. The disappointed audience began to dissipate, expressing their annoyance at the half naked man that had negated them of their fun.
"There you have it, folks." John Elaine said to his viewers. "A chubby man with shorts on his head just knocked out our hero and the abominable Sea Bigfoot. It is a sad ending for our tale, but such is life. Be sure to tune us tomorrow at the same time in the same channel. I'm John Elaine from Surface News, I wish you all good night."
John signaled the cameramen to cut the recording. His charming smile transformed into a scowl as soon as he stopped being on air.
"And just like that, my exciting news became a parody spoof. All thanks to that meddling idiot." He shrugged. "It's bound to get good ratings; people love this kind of crazy stuff. At least it's better than those other news about the hallucination-inducing milkshakes…Damn, what has happened to my journalist career?"
Viewers
"Patrick Man is back!" JimBob exclaimed so loudly that he woke up Gary, who had been peacefully sleeping on his lap. "I feel so much safer with him around."
"I suppose he's harmless, as long as he doesn't cause the town's economy to collapse, a new drought to come and the fall of civilization as we know it again." Said Sandy from the other side of the couch.
JimBob stared at her, his eyes were so wide that they looked as if they would fall from his face.
"Did he really do all that?"
"No," Sandy admitted, "but it could happen. Better to be prepared than sorry. By the way, was that Frenchy fighting? That motley looked the same as the one he wears at work."
"Nah, don't be silly," SpongeBob dismissed while he patted a sleepy Gary on the head, "that was Sea Bigfoot."
"How are you so sure?"
"Because the news said so." JimBob shrugged "And if it appears on the news, it must be true, right?"
He's cute. Sandy thought as she saw his boyfriend laugh at the repeated clip of Patchy saying hi to his mother, which had already gone viral. Even if he's not much of a critical thinker.
Wage
"Alright Trusty crew, as you know, Frenchy is in the hospital and he won't be returning for a few weeks. It seems he sustained some serious injuries, like a twisted ankle and a broken pinky. Let us all take a minute of silence for our fallen crewmate." Mr. Slabs, always greedy, even when it came to time, reduced the minute to a second and then continued, "but we must go on! And it makes me happy to announce that I've already found his replacement. Please say hi to our newest member, who from now on will be wearing our dear mascot's motley!"
After his bombastic introduction, a buffy version of Mr. Krabs entered the restaurant. The motley fitted him so tightly it looked as if it would tear apart at any second.
"Hey guys."
"Larry is that you?" asked JimBob.
"Underneath this costume of shame, I am." Larry could barely move, and when he did, it looked as if he'd had an accident in his pants. "My butt doesn't look bubbly with this motely, does it?"
"Are you sure you want an answer?" Manward told him.
"Oh boy." Larry said without hope. "The things I do to get Mr. Slabs from not suing me for accidentally poisoning him with a milkshake…and I'm not even going to get paid a full wage! A mobster's redemption is hard, man."
Xebec
"Alright, you can open your eyes now!"
Mr. Slabs laughed before doing what her daughter said. They were on the port, and before him, he saw a brand-new ship. A xebec, a perfect and fully functional replica like those of centuries ago. His heart fell to his stomach.
"Happy birthday, daddy!" His daughter hugged him and kissed him in the cheek. "I got you just what you wanted!"
Mr. Slabs was paralyzed from head to toe.
"Pearl, my only and beloved daughter," he asked with a thread of voice ", did you buy this with your money?"
His daughter laughed. Her laughter was very similar to his, both in sound and mannerisms.
"Don't be foolish! You told me I could use your credit card to buy your gift, remember?" Pearl wiped a tear from her eye, "but don't worry about that, you deserve this. You always worked so hard, and I wanted this gift to be special."
"But—why a xebec, my darling?" Mr. Slabs was trying to hold back his tears.
Pearl chuckled, a little ashamed. "Well, I went through your things, and I found this cutout of a ship you liked. I know you like to keep snips of the things you one day would like to buy, so I decided to be one step ahead of you and buy it before someone else did. I'm glad I did, there was only one in existence!"
Mr. Slabs couldn't pretend anymore. Freely, almost grossly, he allowed his tears to stream down his face. His daughter hugged him again.
She was crying too.
"Oh daddy, you're so happy you're crying! Don't worry, it was nothing. I love you."
"I love you too, sweetie" Mr. Slabs said. He didn't have the heart to tell his daughter that his tears were of sadness for having inadvertently spent so much money on his own birthday gift, or to tell her that the cutout he kept was of a miniature xebec model to build inside a bottle. "I love you too."
Yonder
"Now those fools will never doubt our relationship again!"
"They better not." Karen allowed his long-distance husband to finish his evil laugh before continuing, "you know, it's weird. I know you hate them, but it was nice meeting them. I mean, it was only for a minute, but still."
"Hate them?" Charleston sounded taken aback ", that's too harsh. I'd leave it at I don't like them. They seemed happy to meet you too, Karen. They are easily impressed simpletons…no offense, honey."
"Maybe it would be nice if we met too. In person, I mean." Karen bit her tongue.
Charleston felt a void in his stomach. Had he heard right, or had it only been some static?
"What?" he asked after a long silence.
"What?" Karen echoed him.
"Did you just—?"
"Nope."
"Yes, you did."
"Can you prove it? If not, you're lying."
"Karen."
"Just forget about it." Karen laughed nervously "Did you see the news about the fight between those morons in the beach? I hadn't laughed so much since the time you told me about how Patrick thought your eyepatch was a portal to another dimension."
"Do you want to?" Charleston said firmly. He didn't sound angry, but his voice was far from being easy-going.
Karen remained quiet. She wished she hadn't brought it up. It had been a stupid suggestion, almost a joke.
Or had it? When she thought about it, she realized she wasn't so sure.
"I don't know." It was the most honest thing she could say.
"Me neither." Charleston said.
"I—" Karen swallowed her words. "I must go. Sorry I brought this up. I'll call you tomorrow, okay? I love you."
"Karen, wait—"
She finished the call. As expected, Charleston tried to call her again several times.
Karen took off her own set of headphones and ignored the calls. She stood up from her chair and looked outside the window of her apartment.
She saw the sea, and thought of his husband over yonder.
Zeal
"According from what I've heard, you've destroyed dozens of nets from a souvenir shop known as Shell City, you became an internet legend known as Sea Bigfoot, you fought your own brother on international television, and to top it all, you ended up in the hospital because a half-naked man landed on you."
"Oui, pretty much." Frenchy didn't know what his boss wanted to hear, but it was all he could think of at the moment.
His boss stared at him from behind his desk.
Had he called him just to scold him?
It could be worse. Frenchy thought. I'd rather being chided by him than by my dear mère.
"You've always been a handful, Jacques." His boss said, lighting up a cigarette. "And let me just say your lawyer was an incompetent tool. I threaten him once, and he cried. He made me feel like a bully."
Frenchy now understood why his boss had summoned him. He wanted to make sure he understood he was never going to hire him back.
Frenchy felt as if a part of his heart disappeared. Every day, as he put on the motley, he had done so with the hope that it was only a momentary phase of his life, and that he soon would be back to study the wonderful creatures under the sea.
"I understand." He said with a trembly voice. "Thank you for everything you—"
Before he could continue with his sad farewell, his boss put a new contract on the desk and handed him a pen.
Frenchy looked at his boss. He couldn't believe what was happening.
"Like a said, you're a handful." His boss, for the first time since they had met, smiled at him. "But you're passionate about the sea, and I need someone with that kind of zeal to study those peculiar sea creatures we found years ago. I need someone that sees them not as mere objects of study, but as living creatures worth protecting. And from what I've heard, you're always willing to do that, aren't you Jacques?"
Frenchy couldn't answer. His head was a hurricane of thoughts and emotions. In the end, he didn't.
He simply signed the contract and thanked his boss for the new opportunity.
With that, Frenchy was back at his old submarine the next day. He would be gone for a while; he had to make up for the lost time, and his boss had given him an special assignment.
"Bikini Bottom, here I go." He announced as his submarine submerged into the ocean. He looked out the window and gave a last look to the surface. To his surprise, he saw all his friends on the shore.
JimBob and Sandy were making sandcastles together while Gary the kitten played with a hermit crab.
Patrick was being chased down by the lifeguard, who tried to stop him from causing more well-intentioned chaos in the beach.
Mr. Slabs and his daughter Pearl were getting ready to set sail on their brand-new Xebec.
Manward was sleeping on a beach bed with a suntan reflector resting on his chest and a music magazine covering his face.
There was also Larry, who tried to shake off some kids who had climbed up his back and were squishing the eyes of his Mr. Krabs' motley.
Finally, there was Charleston, who looked tearfully at the sea while holding his headphones against his ears.
"Goodbye, mon amies." Frenchy said, realizing his surface friends were as dear to him as those who lived under the sea, "I'll see you again someday."