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"Patrick Man!" Jimmy Boy saw how the defeated hero was thrown inside a dumpster after a lengthy battle. "No!"

"He's gone!" Bobby Bass exclaimed as he slammed the dumpster's door shut. He had a purple eye , his only memento from his battle against Patrick Man. "And you're next!"

Jimmy Boy shed a manly tear for his fallen friend. Poor Patrick Man wouldn't be able to get rid of the smell of trash for a week or two.

No hero deserved such fate.

But he would avenge him!

"For Patrick Man!" Jimmy Boy screamed as he ran toward Bobby Bass and managed to put himself behind his back. Just like he had learned from Sandy, Jimmy Boy put his arms around his nemesis' giant neck and prepared to deliver his ultimate attack. "And for Charleston's headphones! Trusty Chokeslam!"

"I won't fall for that again! Last time, I couldn't walk right for a day." Bobby Bass grabbed Jimmy Boy's arms and let himself fall on his back.

His whole weight crushed JimBob as if he was a little grape.

When Bobby Bass got up again, Jimmy Boy laid defeated under his gigantic shadow.

"I hope that hurt." Bobby Bass said cruelly as he kicked Jimmy Boy in the leg. "That's what you and your friend in underwear get for messing with me without a good reason. I'm not the villain here, I'm the victim. THE VICTIM!"

As Bobby Bass cried to the moon, Patchy and Potty kept on staring at them from a bench.

"This is way better than that movie playing at the theater." Patchy said as he ate a handful of popcorn. "And above all, it's free!"

"Shut up and share the popcorn, you selfish dork." Potty told him.

Patchy put the bag closer to the parrot's beak as he watched how Bobby Bass proceeded to give a long soliloquy about his tragic motives and life.

"Wow, JimBob and the others are better actors than I thought." Patchy said. "I could swear they were fighting for real."

"I just hope there is a sequel." Potty replied. "And they better not start charging for these little public presentations! That's how artists and creators kill their stuff."

Karen hissed as the seawater touched her hurting feet. After a small moment of a burning itch, came the cold relief.

"Much better." She opened her eyes and started into the sea. The beach was silent and emptier than she'd thought it would be. "Why did I even come here?"

The heavy bag in her hand was starting to make her arm go numb. She put it down on the sand, without really caring if the waves touched it.

"It's just water. Everything inside will dry sooner or later if it gets wet." Karen said. "I have worse problems than my clothes getting ruined by the sea, like not getting sent to prison, for example. That's a sentence I never thought I'd ever say. My life is getting weird; well, weirder than usual."

Karen shrugged and sat down on the wet sand.

I better enjoy this little moment of peace. I've learned how little they can last.

Just as she finished that thought and was starting to relax, she heard a loud and mean-spirited laughter coming from somewhere nearby.

I jinxed it.

Karen stood up with the intention of moving farther from the noisy group, to a spot where she didn't have to listen to their annoying voices.

With her bag on hand, she looked over her shoulder to see who were the responsible of ruining her moment of tranquility.

It was just a bunch of teenagers kicking and throwing sand to some guy who tried desperately to escape them.

Poor fool. Karen thought with indifference. But it's not my problem.

"Hey ma'am, I'll borrow this for a moment!"

"What?"

Before Karen knew it, one of the teens pushed her toward the water and snatched her bag from her hand.

After spitting a mouthful of seawater and rubbing salt off her eyes, Karen stood up and came to the rowdy group as if she was an awakened dragon whose treasure had just been stolen.

Now. Karen thought as she saw how the teens used her bag as a weapon to hit the man in the back. It's my problem!

"What's the matter? Are you going to cry, loser?" Laughed the same kid that had stolen her bag. "This is what you get for not giving me and my friends free samples of those beers you were promoting!"

"I can't do that! You have to be over eighteen; otherwise, I'd get in trouble! Mon dieu, what's wrong with kids these days?" the man clad in a diving suit exclaimed as he covered his helmet with his hands as the beating continued. "And people wonder why I prefer to be under the sea!"

"Shut up! Your accent gets on my nerves." Just when the teen was about to deliver a particularly strong hit directed right at Frenchy's bottom, the bag got taken away from him by its rightful owner. "Give it back, you're ruining the moment!"

"Aw, she must be his girlfriend." Another teen taunted.

The others looked at Karen and laughed.

She let them do so without saying a word.

Instead, she simply opened her bag and started to search inside with one hand.

"Karen!" Frenchy exclaimed, earning a small break from the teenagers. "I'm happy you're here! These kids are crazy, I tell you."

"She's really his girlfriend!" The group laughed harder than before. "What a cute couple they make. You see these two together in the street and you think, 'yeah that's about right'!"

Karen remained unexpressive.

It didn't take long for the young group to become bored by her nonchalant attitude. Slowly, they started to return their attention to Frenchy, who had just managed to get on his knees before he was forced back in the sand by multiple kicks coming at him from all sides.

"Maduit enfants!" Frenchy exclaimed. "This is why I don't have children. Well, that and because of the lack of a significant other…but mostly because of this!"

"Enough!"

To his relief, Karen intervened again. In her hand, Frenchy could see a plastic gun similar to those that appeared in those movies about aliens invading Earth that he liked so much.

The kids stared back at Karen and laughed hysterically when she pointed the toy weapon at them.

"Did you get lost on your way to the nerd convention, ma'am?" one of them said. "Aren't you a bit old for that kind of stuff? You're girlfriend is hilarious, Scooba Fool!"

"This is a real laser gun, brats." Karen said with a serious, cold voice. "So why don't you just go running back to your mothers before things get ugly? Go on, otherwise, you'll wet your diapers."

The teen's faces went from amused to angered in the blink on an eye.

The strongest and tallest of them went and faced Karen as if he was a warrior about to battle with an evil witch.

"What did you just say?"

"I said…" Karen pointed the gun and a nearby rock and shot. The rock exploded into a million of particles and left a black mark where it used to be, "…just that. Did I make myself clear, or do I need to explain it again?"

The teens looked at each other, all of them equally pale, before running away screaming and crying.

"I hope you all learned a life-long lesson from all this!" Karen exclaimed at them as she put the gun back inside the bag. "Damn, I'd be a great mother."

She then went to Frenchy and tried to help him back on his feet.

"Merci. Merci beacuop, Karen." Frenchy said with a relieved, euphoric voice. "I tell you, those children are worse than any kind of aggressive sea life I've encountered in my whole life! Though I must say you went a bit overboard with the laser gun…"

"Well, someone needed to set those brats straight, and it obviously wasn't going to be you. Or their parents, for that matter." Karen helped him dust off some of the sand from his diving suit. "Anyway, it's not that I do not enjoy playing the hero, but I really must go now. Beware the wild teenagers, okay? They are rather abundant here in the beach during summer."

"Don't go so fast! Here, let me give you something. After all, you saved my life!" Frenchy said as he searched the pockets of his suit.

"I wouldn't go that far…" Karen muttered and scratched her head.

"Oh no, I can't find the discount coupons. I must have lost them when those kids were chasing me around the mall!" Frenchy kicked the sand in frustration while a confused Karen started at him. "I'm sorry, Karen. I'm afraid I can only offer you my thanks."

"That's not too valuable, is it?"

"Sorry?"

"Nothing." Karen sighed and put her bag on her shoulder. "Don't worry about it. Just don't expect me to—"

Karen hadn't even given one step forward when she saw four officers entering the beach. Together with them, there were the teenagers she had scared away.

And as a special guest, there also was the paranoid taxi driver with the Komodo dragon for a pet.

"I should get going too." Frenchy said as he stretched his back. "Those ruffians destroyed my beer post, can you believe it? But that's alright, I was planning on leaving here today on my submarine anyway. You see, there's this—"

"Did you just say submarine?" Karen grabbed his arm and got so close to his helmet that her forehead touched the crystal.

"Oui." Replied Frenchy, a little flustered. "Ah, my submarine. What a beauty it is. Have I ever told you of the day—"

"Take me with you." Karen pulled Frenchy by the arm, making him follow closely behind her.

"Pardon?"

Karen didn't stop walking. Her steps gradually became faster, and soon Frenchy had to run to keep up with her.

"Let's get to that damn submarine of yours and get out of here." Karen looked over her shoulder. Frenchy could see her eyes widened with fear. "Now!"

"But I'm not allowed to get people unrelated to my work aboard! And I certainly don't want to be fired again." Frenchy gulped. "Besides, I haven't cleaned it in weeks. It's not a place for a lady…"

"Save your chivalry and excuses for later, okay?" Karen urged him. "I saved your life, didn't I? So stop contradicting me and let's just get there before the police sees me!"

Frenchy felt how his heart fell to his stomach. "Did you just say the police? Mon dieu Karen, what did you get yourself into?"

"I'll tell you once we are in your submarine." Karen urged him. "It's a long, stupid story. One that involves my husband, an old man, my work, and especially…" she glared at Frenchy with fiery eyes, "those cursed kelp beers of yours."

"Well, it's finally happened." Mr. Slabs said, putting his hands on his hips. He was staring at the other side of the street from inside the Trusty Slab.

Surprisingly, Manward was standing just by his side.

What was happening across the street was unusual enough to even earn his attention.

"I'd say it took him longer than I thought." Manward said with a light shade of his usual boredom in his voice.

"Hello, trusty crew!"

"JimBob, you're late." Mr. Slabs didn't take his eyes off the window as he scolded his happy employee.

"I know, I'm sorry Mr. Slabs. It's just that my night was a little more aggressive than I expected." JimBob walked toward his boss. His forehead and the bridge of his nose were covered in bandages. "I'm still a bit dizzy from the pills Sandy gave me, but don't worry. I'll be able to cook as many Slabby Patties as necessary…Mr. Slabs? Manward?"

JimBob waved his hands in front of them. When he got no reaction whatsoever, he shrugged and decided to look at the same direction as his friends.

JimBob felt his legs tremble at the sight before him.

"Charleston?" he said, his voice crashing together with the metallic echoes and soft crunches of wood that came from the other side of the street as Charleston dismantled the Crumb Basket. "Is he…"

"That's right, my boy." Mr. Slabs put a hand on his shoulder. "It seems good old Charleston has finally given up. It was bound to happen, though I really thought he would go out with more…dignity. I even dare to say I'm a bit disappointed."

"Do you think he'd be willing to sell some of that trash to me?" Manward said, with his hand caressing his chin.

Oh, the sculptures I could make with that garbage! He thought with a smile.

"Sell?" Mr. Slabs gave Manward a friendly punch in the shoulder. "Please, if he gave you the remains of that sham of a restaurant of his for free, he'd still be ripping you off!"

Mr. Slabs and Manward laughed together to the point of tears.

"Well, good riddance Charleston!" Mr. Slabs said as he wiped off a tear of his eye. "You will not be missed. Okay boys,let's get back to business. JimBob, can you repeat what you were saying? I wasn't really—"

Mr. Slabs looked around him, but his trusty fry cook was nowhere to be seen. "JimBob? Come on boy, this is not to time to play hide and seek!"

He searched for him under the tables, but it was as if JimBob had vanished. Confused, Mr. Slabs scratched his head, "Huh, where could that boy be? Did I hallucinate him? When will the side effects of those milkshakes stop!"

"Calm down, he was here just a moment ago." Manward said to his boss, a little angry at him for interrupting his newspaper reading with his lamentations and questions.

Mr. Slabs stared at Manward with his eyes half-closed. "Really? Well mister Manward, where is he?"

"Over there." Manward pointed outside the window without getting his eyes off the newspaper.

Mr. Slabs rolled his eyes, at first thinking he was playing a joke on him, but he soon discovered that Manward was telling the truth.

JimBob was across the street, talking with Charleston in what seemed to be a heated argument.

"That boy has developed a soft spot for Charleston in the last few days, hasn't he? "Mr. Slabs said to himself. "I know he would never betray me by his on will, but Charleston is cunning. He could play JimBob like a fiddle at any moment. In fact, now that I think about it, this whole thing about Charleston dismantling the Crumb Basket seems off. Could it be…another of his intricate attempts at stealing my secret sauce recipe?"

Mr. Slabs knew it was opening time, but he decided to postpone it for a few minutes. He was too busy trying to put together the pieces of Charleston's potential plan.

"Maybe he's just pretending." He sat on one of the tables and lighted a cigarette. "If I think he's given up, I'd let my guard down, and he'd take the chance to get the recipe. Though perhaps it's more complex than that. Maybe this whole thing about his wife coming to town is part of his plan too. JimBob, I love you boy, but you're a sentimental fool. It would be so easy for Charleston to manipulate you by taking advantage of your tender heart. After all, you'd never doubt to help a poor man whose love life is falling apart…"

Mr. Slabs breathed out a lungful of smoke.

"And what better day to take advantage of all that than the Beach Palooza next week?" Mr. Slabs put out the cigarette by rubbing it on the table. "Damn you Charleston, you knew I 'd be distracted that day with Pearl's presentation, didn't you? Oh, but don't you worry. Old Slabs is not as stupid as you may think. I'm not going to disappoint me daughter. I'll be there with her on her special day, but neither am I going to leave the Trusty Slab unprotected."

Mr. Slabs got up and looked at the window again. He saw how an angry JimBob was coming back to the restaurant.

JimBob passed by Larry, and ignored him as the buff man said hi to him while he was out in one of his daily morning marathons.

Mr. Slabs watched Larry disappear as he continued to run down the street.

An idea came to his mind.

He smiled.

I'll be prepared for whatever you have planned, Charleston. Mr. Slabs opened the door for JimBob, who went directly to the kitchen without saying a word to him or Manward. You can be sure of that.

Charleston's day was going moderately well, until…

"Charleston!"

"Great."

He counted to three before his sight became contaminated with the appearance of JimBob. In spite of how overbearing the presence of the fry cook could be, Charleston still managed to ignore him as he continued to tear apart the Crumb Basket plank by plank.

"What are you doing?" JimBob asked him.

"What does it look like, genius?" Charleston replied.

"You can't give up now!"

A plank slipped from Charleston's fingers. He finally looked at JimBob, and his sympathetic face only caused Charleston to grow more annoyed. "Giving up?"

"I know the loss of your headphones hit you hard." JimBob said. "But give me some time, alright? Patrick and I are working on it! We thought Bobby Bass had taken them, but let's just say that last night we discovered the hard way that our suspicions were misplaced…But don't worry, I swear we'll find them ."

JimBob laughed.

Charleston ignored him again, hoping JimBob for once in his life would get the message and go away.

Alas, he had been a fool to even think that could happen.

"You don't have to torn apart the Crumb Basket! It's a bit drastic, don't you think?" JimBob said. He picked up a few of the planks and carried them in his arms, "What will Karen say when she arrives and sees you've destroyed your restaurant? She'll be pretty disappointed!"

"Shut up!" Charleston turned around to face JimBob. He took the planks away from him and threw them back at the floor. "You don't understand what I'm doing here, and I don't want you to. Just like I don't want or need your help. This is my problem, you hear me? Mine alone. Stay out of it, JimBob. I won't ask you again."

JimBob stayed still with his mouth open like a fool.

"Get out of here already." Charleston said to him as he continued with his work. "You're in my way."

JimBob didn't listen to him.

Charleston didn't care. If he wanted to spend the whole day watching him work, then he was free to do so.

As long as he didn't intervene, everything would be fine.

"So you've really given up." JimBob muttered. It was the first time Charleston heard something resembling anger in his voice. It was more terrifying than he dared to admit. "I…I wanted to help you so everything would be fine between you and Karen! But if you're not even going to try anymore, then neither will I! Perhaps what Mr. Slabs said turned out to be true for you and Karen, but I won't let it be true for me and Sandy!"

JimBob and Charleston's eyes met for a second before JimBob went back to the Trusty Slab with heavy, long steps.

Charleston stood still for a moment, trying to understand what had just happened.

"He tried to help me? He wanted things between me and Karen to be okay?" Charleston repeated. "Who does he think he is? I don't need his or anyone's help to prove myself to Karen. And I don't care about what Slabs said! I'll make sure everything turns out fine for Karen and for me, and I'll do it by myself!"

Charleston kept on dismantling the Crumb Basket.

"First, I'll rebuild the Crumb Basket into a place that's worthy of you, Karen." Charleston exclaimed. "And I'll do it all on my own! Then you'll see your husband is not a loser, Karen! And then…"

Charleston looked at the Trusty Slab, but he quickly returned his attention to his work.

He had to focus if he wanted to finish dismantling and rebuilding the Crumb Basket again before the day of the Beach Palooza.

"But that's a matter for another time. For now, the Crumb Basket and our meeting will be my only priorities." He stopped for a moment and touched his ears.

He wondered if that habit would ever die.

Even if it doesn't, Charleston thought as he remembered the last message he had received from Karen, where she expressed how she couldn't wait to see him, I wouldn't mind at all.