Chapter 9: No More Lies
Squidward was sweating in the interrogation room, the air was stale and smelled of dirt. Officer Debra Pfishburg studied Squidward, her stare unrelenting. He had already been there for hours, he missed the scent of fresh air, he would even say he missed Spongebob.
"Now Squidward, I think we are going to need a confession out of you. It would make this painful trial go so much faster. Wouldn't it feel so good to just rip the band-aid off?" PfishBurg said. She pulled a chair out and sat on it backwards, her fins resting on the back of the chair.
"Officer Debby...I didn't do this!" Squidward pleaded, but it was no use. Debby was unconvinced, she sat there shaking her head.
"I'm afraid that won't do. With the new evidence that I found in your house that is being presented in court tomorrow, you're done." Debby said. She pulled a conch from her pocket. "There will also be this."
"What...is that?" Squidward said, his eyes widening. Debby chuckled.
"The final nail in your coffin." She said.
Squilliam Fancyson sat atop a pile of rotted squid hides. The melody of his clarinet filled spongebobs eyeballs with anticipation. "What are you doing here?" Spongebob stepped forward, squishing a tentacle beneath his feet.
"The same reason you're here." He continued to passionately blow his long stick. He looked dead on at Spongebob. "To enjoy the view," he gave a crazy cackle, revealing his teeth made of glorious tektite. Tektite Spongebob thought, a material only used by the mob.
"What do you know?" He rushed up to Squilliam, grabbed his clarinet, and smashed it.
"Tell me now!" He felt weak in the knees, he had forgotten all about the cancer. He stumbled, but Squilliam caught him before he fell.
"I know who killed Patrick." He still held Spongebob in his slimy arms, enveloping his body in his tentacles.
"Please… Tell me" Spongebob couldn't cease the crying. Squilliam released Spongebob from his icy grip. "It's a long story. It's all connected to the death of my people." The scenery had changed, they were in a camping tent telling ghost stories now. Squilliam shined his flashlight below his face, "long ago, my family was poor- we had blown all of our money on fancy ice statues… little did we know… they would melt."
Squidward's jaw dropped, but he quickly caught his bearings. "That is hardly admissible evidence!" Squidward pointed a tentacle in Debby's face, with a flashy yet limp wrist. "You'll never get a confession out of me." He laughed.
"Oh, I'll beg the contrary." She hissed. "Magic conch, are you admissible evidence?" She pulled the cord, and it slowly drew back into the conch with her response.
"Yes." Squidward sat aghast- this trial would be over so quickly with the magic conch.
"Oh, and another question. Did Squidward Q. Tentacles kill Patrick Star ten long years ago?"
"Yes."
Officer Debby flashed a killer smile.
"It was such a bitter winter, and we had no heat, especially since we were carving all those ice statues inside the house. We were so prosperous that one winter, we made enough money for one week of heat. Then the summer came, and so died all the ice statues along with the family business...but that was so long ago. We could have never seen it coming." Squilliam shuddered, thinking about those damned ice statues. "That was when I was a kid. I've come a long way, you see. Well, saw. I had so much money, and then the Bikini Bottom stock market crashed when all that crime spiked, and I lost everything. Once again, I was poor. But this time, I had no ice statues." Squilliam choked back tears- these terrible memories being freshly dug up after so long. "Time to get back on track…" Spongebob leaned in, he would finally be giving answers about Patrick's death. "So naturally I had to get a job." Or not.
"Um, Squilliam, can we get back to Patrick please? Sorry." Spongebob said.
"Oh yes, right. I'm sorry. There was no choice in the death of my people...it was them or me. And naturally I chose them. I was playing an honorary song on my trusty clarinet with the world's smallest violin as my backup percussion. They knew everyone at Tentacle Acres would rally for Squidward's innocence. He was one of their own at a time, and still part of their species."
"Wait, they? Who are they?" Spongebob pressed.
"So they had me kill them all. Every last one of them. Not one survivor." Squilliam cried once more. He cried and cried and cried, until his tears put out the campfire that was in front of them. "Back on track…so naturally after losing all my money, I had to find work."
Spongebob groaned. How long could this go on for? "They never spoke with me, they just barked orders at me...I did things I didn't want to for money...but I needed it." This took an interesting turn, and Spongebob leaned back in for the next part of his story. "So many things I didn't want to do...and they just kept escalating. Until this. This is my breaking point. I can't do this anymore." He sobbed, the droplets splattering on his flashlight. "I begged them, please, have anyone else do it…" He wiped his face, but his arm got tangled with another arm, and soon he became a pile of headphone wires. He gave up his struggle, and accepted a life vest of a knot around him, and continued. "They had my wife. She was 12 months pregnant… He wiped a single tear. That night I came in with over a pound of ricin. It was the anniversary of The Great Chili Festival, and so the town had gathered towards the center. No one saw me put it in their chili… I ruined the symbolic Chili Festival… and disgraced my ancestors. The children died first." Spongebob stopped Squilliam.
"I don't see how any of this is connected." Spongebob was eager for answers, but even more eager for a beer, or thirty.
"I'm getting to that, jeeze" Squilliam was still trying to untangle himself. "I was the only one left… I ran… I ran back to the job and told them I was done." He was done blinking for the day after the amount of tears he had shed. "I told them it was done… and they killed her. Right in front of me. I… don't remember the specifics of what happened next, but I escaped… and returned home. Can you untangle me now?"
"And so that's where we are." Spongebob said. Squilliam tried to reach out, but was unable.
"The mafia killed Patrick"
BOOM
Spongebob's ears couldn't stop ringing. There was ink everywhere, he was cold. His heart pounded rapidly, as the dust cleared. Squilliam's head was splattered across Spongebob's entire body. The blood filled the tent with a sharp smell of iron and ink. Spongebob rushed out of the tent, there was no one. He was utterly alone. His butt clenched, he walked onward. One of the mafia families killed his precious Patrick. Time to have his revenge.
It was nighttime when Spongebob got back to Bikini Bottom. For once, the town was quiet. It gave him an eerie feeling The police station was a beacon in the night, its outdoor lights illuminating the streets. It stood tall and confident in the bitter darkness. The darkness that Spongebob was all too familiar with. This dark isn't something to be afraid of, though. It is what's inside it.
Spongebob scanned the police station for that familiar face who has been with him every step of this nightmare. Officer Debra PfishBurg. She was running around the station with piles of papers, getting dates for arraignments, prison transfers, the usual workload.
Spongebob approached Debby's desk once she finally sat down.
"Um...Officer Debby?" Spongebob cowered in his words, but he got her attention. She had a pen in her hands, signing paperwork.
"What is it? I'm very busy here." She was the product of understaffment.
"I have new evidence on the Patrick Star case." He caught her by surprise, and her pen stopped its fluid movements. She looked up, and gave him her undivided attention.
"I have reason to believe the mafia was behind Patrick's death, not Squidward." Debby's jaw dropped. She kept her eyes on him while her fin reached for a piece of paper.
"Would you like to make a statement?" She asked.
Spongebob recited everything that Squilliam told him, from the ice sculptures to the juicy details around Patrick's death, the dead squid everything. And Debby was enthralled during the entire story.
"These are all made by Squilliam, yes?" Debby asked.
"Yes."
"Yeah, you know we suspected the mafia for a while, but we weren't able to track their existence down long enough to find them. Do you know where Squilliam is right now?" Debby's eyes widened in anticipation.
"Sorry to be the bearer of bad news Debby, but Squilliam is dead. That's why I'm here, too." Spongebob said.
"Dead? How did he die?" She shouted. It was just another murder on their hands, but a new case was a new case.
"He was shot. In the head. Sniper, I think." Spongebob twitched in pain, his insides felt like acid. "Ohh." He put his hands over his stomach, clenching his teeth.
Officer Debby shook her head.
"Oh, how terrible. I wonder which of the three families are behind this. Oh, dear. Are you feeling alright? You're sick, aren't you?" Spongebob nodded his head, he couldn't even make out words he was in so much pain.
"Do you need help? An ambulance? I'll take care of this, we're going to get to the bottom of this, I promise. You never know, this could exonerate Squidward. You've really given us a lot to think about here, Spongebob. Thank you." She rested a fin on his shoulder, but then he passed out in his chair.
Officer Debby walked outside to see the ambulance off. Spongebob did not wake up after he passed out, and they had to call for help. They were able to stabilize him at the scene, but he needed to be looked over at the hospital, they mentioned something about cancer to her, but she wasn't paying attention.
"Thanks for your help boys, he's a real V.I.P. around here." She smirked.
"Of course. You gonna call his family, or should we?" The paramedic asked, packing up his first aid kit, prepping for travel back to the hospital.
"I'll take care of it. Got a lot of things to do here anyway. Gonna be swamped for a while." Debby reassured the paramedic, who was making his way back to the driver's seat.
"Alright then. You have a good night, Officer Debby." The paramedic started the ambulance, and she tapped the back of the ambulance with her fin, and it was off.
It was going to be the beginning of a long night, and that much was clear to Debby. She had to start somewhere, so she begun with the statement Spongebob had made. She studied the page, carefully. He was getting close.
Officer Debby frowned as she ripped up the statement and threw it in the trash.
Squidward looked at the ground, he had been in this temporary holding cell for more than a temporary period of time. Suddenly his cell was opened, he was blinded instantly. He sat in the dark for so long, and so he was extra sensitive to the light. "I know what's in your little room, Mr. Tentacles. Behind that bolted door? I have to say… It makes me sick." Officer Debra Pfishburg shone a light into his sensitive eyes. Squidward said nothing. "People like you, just wander around all day, around normal fish." She kneeled down next to him. "You make me sick." He looked her in the eyes.
"What do you want?"
She laughed "what everyfish wants. A Mercedes Boat." She smiled widely. "I can't wait to show the court everything in your back room." She spit on the floor. "I just came here to ask you, why?"
He smiled. "Because of love Debby. Because of love."
Spongebob was in a haze, he was in an unfamiliar room plastered in white. "You're awake Mr. Squarepants, good." A seahorse dressed in a white labcoat kept a fin on Spongebob's shoulder. "We have your chart right here… I'm afraid it's spread. It's in your bloodstream now." Spongebob took a deep breath.
"How long do I have?" He looked at the seahorses cold eyes. "I need time… I'm not ready to die." He tried to get up, but couldn't gather the strength.
"It's hard to say… with your gangrene, syphilis, and lupus it's hard to determine." He turned to leave the room. "I suggest you make your peace."
Spongebob was wheeled out of the hospital once again, everytime he comes here the news gets worse. He wasn't satisfied with just filing that police report, he needed to do more, he needed to everything he could in the little time he had left. Spongebob clenched a prescription in hand, he had something to pick up before he could move onwards. The green cross shone above the large metal doors of the facility, Spongebob had never been to The Mollusk District. Next door was the famous, Hooks, a food and show place that he had heard great reviews from. As he entered the building, the smell overcame him. It was pungent, like a skunk. "How can we help you dude?" A fish with a goatee stood over a glass counter. "We got every kind of seaweed here imaginable, even purple seaweed.
"I have a prescription right here…" Spongebob handed the list to the stoner.
"Oh dude what'd you do to get this?" Spongebob looked visibly confused. "This right here specifically requests seaweed powder… we can't even sell this stuff off the shelf" Spongebob shifted his feet.
"It's for my cancer" The guy shut up and went to get his prescription. Spongebob anxiously looked around the room, it had an unusual amount of security cameras. The man returned.
"Well here you go, have a nice day man!" He smiled brightly, Spongebob was too focused on his new seaweed to notice the tektite plating over the man's teeth.
Spongebob took out his portable mirror and razor blade. He splashed the powder out on the mirror and packed a few lines of pure, unadulterated seaweed. And so, he took the lines in his nose.
"Ohh yeah!" He shouted. The snorting gave him a rush at first, but then he mellowed out quickly. For the first time in a while, Spongebob felt a sense of euphoria. He looked around the street he was on, unable to break his smile. His head felt cloudy, and he felt as if he was going to float off the ground. "I feel better already." He whispered to himself. Medical seaweed had many untold benefits to the sick and dying, and luckily he fit right into that!
Then his vision began to blur around the streets, and he saw pink spots in his vision. "Uhoh…" He said, swaying his head around.
"You have to avenge me." Said the pink blob in front of him. Spongebob could barely make him out, but when he squinted he saw who it was. It was Patrick.
"Patrick! Buddy!" Spongebob tried to wrap his arms around Patrick, but his noodle arms just went through him, like he was a ghost. "I miss you so much, pal. My best friend…" Spongebob looked off into the distance.
"You're running out of time, Spongebob. You're the only one that's still looking for the person who killed me, and you are very close to death." Patrick frowned. "They're going to run free...while you're in the ground." Patrick said, but then hugged Spongebob. "I miss you too."
"Oh Patrick...things haven't been the same without you...these past ten years-"
"I know, I know. Spongebob, you have to do this. There's no one else who can." Patrick explained. "You're gonna have to risk your life for this, are you ready for that?" He said.
"Yes." Said Spongebob definitively. He was ready for whatever road would be ahead He didn't have much time to begin with, anyway.
"You have to infiltrate the mafia. Become part of the family. Doesn't matter which one. Once you're in, you're in. Then you'll find some answers." Patrick began to fade away in Spongebob's eyes.
"Patrick, no! Please don't go!" Spongebob pleaded.
"I'll see you soon, Spongebob. Oh, and one more thing."
"Yeah buddy?"
"Trust no one." And just like that, he was gone.
Spongebob was on his knees, sobbing on the ground. He hadn't seen his friend in ten years, and one second he was there, and within another he was gone.
Later that night, Spongebob took a few more hits of the powdered seaweed, hoping to see Patrick again. He didn't see Patrick again, no matter how many hits he took.
Just then, he heard a knock at the door. Spongebob swiftly made his way to the door, it could be Patrick! He unbolted the door and threw it open. Behind it was a familiar face, with two buff fish holding baseball bats. Spongebob tried to remember who this was, but his memory wasn't what it used to be.
"We're lookin' for our money, Squarepants." Said the fish in the middle. Oh shit. Suddenly, Spongebob got flashbacks of all the threatening notes he got in the mail over the past few months. He ignored almost all mail after Gary attacked him, his house didn't feel like home, so why keep up with anything?
Forty thousand shells. In debt to the loan shark. "I… I don't have it" Spongebob cowered, a giant fish picked him up by his tie and threw him against the pineapple.
"You're a pretty brave sponge, you know that?" The small one in the back spoke up, he smelled of grease and Jen.
"I'm not trying to be- I- I can explain!" The fish lowered him to the ground. "I had to pay my medical bills! Pay the Clam Casino!"
The small fish repeated Spongebob, but in a higher octave. "And what does that have to do with me?" He smiled.
"Please please! Don't kill me! I'll do anything!"
All 3 fish began laughing. "Do you know we hear that every fuckin' day?" He looked over at the one who carried Spongebob before. "Break his windows"
SMASH. SMASH.
"I-I-I" Spongebob sniffled. "I mean it! I'll do your grunt work- I'll lift b-" They stopped him.
"Now. That's what I wanted to hear." He signaled towards the buff-fish, "get in the van. You start today."
It was that easy. Spongebob smirked to himself. He was in the mafia, didn't know which family, but that didn't matter. He was in. And so the answers would come. And soon after that, his sweet revenge on the people that did this to Patrick. He could taste the blood already.
