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"Careful, careful," JimBob's tongue was sticking out. He tended to do that whenever he became overly focused, "and…there! What do you think, Manward?"

"Great." Manward said after yawning. "And it only took you thirty minutes when it should have taken you two. You're the personification of efficiency, JimBob."

"Oh, it's nothing." JimBob said coyly as he admired his work. "I can't believe the annual Beach Palooza is just around the corner! The delicious food, the lively music, the entertaining shows, the hundreds of people dancing, the tons of shameless advertisement made by the sponsors… I can't wait! Sandy, Patrick and I are going to perform this year, you know. Will you go to see us, Manward? We're gonna play this song and—"

"How interesting, but need I remind you still have ten posters left to stick around the restaurant?" Manward was getting a headache from his coworker's endless babbling. "Hurry up and get to it, you turtle. At your pace, it'll take you all day."

"Right!" JimBob picked up the second poster and began to stick it on the entrance's window. He did so as slowly as before. "It'll be so much fun. I just hope Patrick doesn't get kicked out for engulfing all the hot dogs before the eating contest begins, like it happened last year…"

"Are you seriously still talking?"

"I wonder who else will perform? I think I heard Bobby Bass will be doing a magic show. You don't think he can make himself disappear for a few weeks, do you? It may sound a bit mean, but I don't really like him and—"

JimBob shut his mouth the instant a costumer opened the door and slammed it directly on his face.

"Thank heavens," Squidward took a deep breath of relief. He put down the newspaper on the counter and started doing the daily crossword. "That fool was chewing my ear off to the point of almost devouring it. Now let's see…a six-letter word. A thing that guides you or tells you how to do something."

"Recipe." The costumer suggested.

"Yes, it fits. It's a bit vague, though." Manward shrugged and looked up. "Anyway, can I take your—wait, Charleston?"

"I would like to order a secrete sauce recipe, please."

"What the hell is wrong with your voice? Are you hungover? Never mind, I don't care. Get out of here before Mr. Slabs sees you."

"Recipe."

"How much time did you spend planning this ruse? One second?"

"No recipe?"

"JimBob, get rid of this idiot, he's starting to creep me out, even more than usual."

JimBob, with two crimson pieces of a napkin stuck inside his nostrils, appeared behind Charleston. "You won't get the recipe while I'm here, foul villain! Now behold my new special move. I call it… the Trusty Chokeslam!"

With a strength and agility that surprised Manward, JimBob grabbed Charleston by the neck and slammed him against the floor.

"Good heavens, JimBob!" exclaimed Manward. Then, after returning instantly to his normal apathy, he added, "you almost cause my coffee to spill on my crossword."

"What in the seven seas was that?!" Mr. Slabs came running out of his office and went directly toward JimBob. "Did someone slip? I'm sorry dear costumer, but the Trusty Slab doesn't take responsibility for your inherent clumsiness. How about I just give these 5% discount coupons and we forget about this little incident? Remember, they are only valid on Sundays at six in the morning, and with a minimum buy of five hundred dollars."

Mr. Slabs lost his smile when he realized the supposed customer was none other than Charleston. He laughed at his rival, who was laying on his back, completely immobile and with his eyes lost into the distance.

"Look at that. Defeated by my little fry cook," Slabs gave JimBob a friendly slap in the shoulder, "nice going, me boy!"

"It was easy. I just used a move I learned from Sandy." JimBob said with pride.

"After she used it on you?" Manward said with a mocking grin.

"Of course not." JimBob put a hand on his chest, completely offended, "I learned it after I saw her use it on Bobby Bass! My girlfriend is not a savage, Manward. She is a refined lady, and I love her so much."

JimBob took out his cellphone and looked at the screensaver, which was a photo of the exact moment when Sandy had slammed Bobby Bass agains the paviment. JimBob smiled and sighed dreamily, "Lovely".

"And people wonder why I say love is like a disease." Manward rolled his eyes and went back to his crossword.

"Who cares about the details?" Interrupted Mr. Slabs, "what matters here is that Charleston is defeated once again. JimBob, do me a favor and take out of the trash, won't you?"

"At once, sir." JimBob knelt next to Charleston, "don't worry, I won't throw you into the garbage like Mr. Slabs always does. I'll just take you out and…Charleston?" JimBob face became serious out of a sudden, "are you crying?"

"NO!" Charleston sat down and screamed. His eye was red and full of tears, "I don't cry! I'm a rock, I'm a heartless evil genius! Leave me alone, you idiot!"

Before anyone could say anything else to him, he started to bawl harder. He put his forearm over his eye and eyepatch and just sat there while JimBob, Manward and Mr. Slabs stared at him in total confusion.

"If this was a play and I was on the audience, right now I'd be crying too," said Manward, "of laughter."

"Stop that, Charleston! My costumers will arrive soon, and I don't want you to scare them away with your little scene. You're not fooling anyone with those crocodile tears, so get out of here before I make you," Mr. Slabs said. After seeing his rival ignored him, his stern expression softened, "dammit, have some dignity and self-control, Charleston Seriously, stop it. With how much force did you hit him, JimBob? I've never seen him act so pathetically, and that's saying something!"

"I was just—the secret recipe…he tried to steal it and—" JimBob put a hand over his mouth. He too was about to cry, "oh no. Charleston, I'm sorry. I didn't want to hurt you for real. I didn't know I was blessed with such immeasurable strength…I'm sorry!"

JimBob hugged Charleston, crying even more grossly than him.

"Ew, get off me! Your staining my headphones with your yucky tears." Charleston pushed JimBob away and took off his headphones to clean them with the sleeve of his shirt. He did so carefully and gently, "there! As good as new…as good as—"

Charleston looked at his headphones for a moment before he hugged them and started to cry again.

"Oh no, no, no, no." Mr. Slabs grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and forced him back on his feet. "We aren't going through this again. I don't know what's gotten into you but I've had enough. Get out here, Charleston."

"Slabs, are you asking me for the source of this unspeakable pain that shakes me to the very core?"

"No."

"We are nemesis, but since you insist so much, you've left me with no choice but to tell you!"

"Honestly Charleston, I don't give a flying f—"

"We'll listen to whatever you have to say, Charleston" JimBob said, "right Manward?"

Manward didn't answer. He had already plugged in his earphones and was listening to his tuba tunes at maximum volume.

"Okay, but you better listen closely because I'll only tell it once!" Charleston said. He told them his tale of his and Karen's agreement to meet next week in the annual Beach Palooza. His words went by amidst Mr. Slabs constants sighs of boredom and JimBob's genuine interest.

"So…" Manward said just after Charleston was finished with his story, "what's the problem here? You'll meet your long-distance wife once and for all, and? Leave it to you to have a marriage so bizarre, Charleston."

"What? Weren't you listening to music?" Charleston asked him.

"What can I say? I can never pass up a good drama." Manward scoffed," though your story was anything but. I honestly don't see why you're making so much fuzz about that!"

"I'm with Manward on this." Said Mr. Slabs. "If anything, you should be sad that you two didn't meet face to face much earlier! You know, like when you were dating, or in your wedding, or in your honeymoon, and I better stop there before I get into details I do not want to know…at all!"

"What part of 'long-distance marriage' you don't understand, Slabs?" Charleston rolled his eye, as if he was stating the obvious. Though he wanted to stay angry, it didn't take long before melancholy overwhelmed him again, "maybe it doesn't matter now. The moment we meet in person, we'll stop being a long-distance marriage to become a common marriage."

"And is that so bad?" asked JimBob as he tilted his head.

"I don't know! How the hell should I know?" Charleston spat at him. He looked at his headphones and calmed down, "I mean, for all I know she could just run away the moment she lays her eyes on me and divorce me before we even say a word to each other."

"And would you blame her?" Laughed Manward. His laughter was short lived when he noticed that not even Mr. Slabs was amused by his comment. Embarrassed, he forced himself to say something more adequate, "and how are you so sure you won't be the one to do that?"

"What?" Charleston asked, not believing what he had just heard.

"You're so worried that she won't like you," Manward explained as if he was an expert on the subject, "but what makes you so sure that you'll like her?"

"Because I promised, we promised. We said would like each other regardless of—"

"Yeah, you two promised that to each other, how cute, and yet you're still terrified that she won't keep her word."

"No! I know Karen, she would never—"

"Then you are just proving my point even further." Manward shrugged, "You are sure she will keep her word, but you aren't so sure that you'll keep yours, are you? Face it Charleston, that's what really troubles you."

Oh Manward, he said to himself, you're so sympathetic and wise. You should be a couple counselor instead of a cashier.

"It is?" Charleston asked to no one in particular. "Yes, I admit it. The thought crossed my mind. Dammit, it really did, but I wouldn't—"

JimBob looked at Charleston as he held on tightly to his headphones. He was about to say something to him when Mr. Slabs cleared his throat.

"Please," Mr. Slabs said after a bitter chuckle, "that should be the least of your concerns. Trust me Charleston, how either of you look will stop being relevant the moment you start living together. That's the breaking point for any relationship, and it's all downhill from there. All relationships are doomed to fail after a while. Don't believe me? Just ask my ex-wife." Slabs laughed heartily.

Charleston glared at him.

What the hell? I thought talking about this was supposed to make me feel better. He thought fiercely. But you guys are only giving me even more of a marital crisis!

"So…." The voice that came from his mouth, unlike the one inside his mind, was a lot more trembly and meek. ", we should just call off this whole thing?"

Slabs arched and eyebrow. "I don't know! That's a decision only you and Karen can make."

"Don't give me that crap and just answer the question, Slabs."

Mr. Slabs looked at him with expressionless eyes. "You two have a happy long-distance marriage. Why risk it with an unnecessary meeting that you two accorded when you were drunk on kelp beer? It just doesn't make any sense—"

Charleston took a step back. He put on his headphones and abandoned the Trusty Slab in a frenzy. JimBob tried to stop him, but Charleston ignored him. He went back to the Crumb Basket, running faster than ever before in his life.

Curse him! Charleston thought as Slab's words raced through his mind almost as quickly as his heartbeat, he's right! Oh Karen, what have we done? We can't do this! We won't do this! I won't let us ruin our own marriage…our beautiful, long-distance marriage!

"And there he goes," said Mr. Slabs as he watched together with JimBob how Charleston locked himself inside his empty restaurant across the street, "I never thought I'd start this day giving marital advice… life is crazy indeed."

"Mr. Slabs?"

"Yes, boy?"

"What you said was true?" It was seldom that Mr. Slabs had seen JimBob so upset, "are all relationships really doomed to fail?"

"Well," Mr. Slabs said as he returned back to his office ", it was true for me, boy. Whether it would be true for Charleston, you or anybody else it's whole a different matter."

Before he crossed the door to his office, he ordered JimBob to go back to the kitchen and get ready before more costumers arrived. JimBob obeyed him, but not before directing one last glance toward the Crumb Basket.

"Now let's see…" Manward said. He was almost done with his crossword. Only one more word left, "a word with eight letters. Something that causes calamity and pain for all involved. Synonym of ruin."

He thought for a moment. "Marriage."

The word fit perfectly.

He smiled.

Charleston's stupid conversation hadn't been a total waste of time after all.