Chapter 2

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Mr. Krabs and SpongeBob had just met the masked diver known as "The Player", who had just been informed of Plankton's laboratory and inventions.

He pressed a button on his suit to shrink himself down to whatever size he wanted.

"Go on, Mr. Krabs." he politely demanded.

The crustacean continued.

"You see, Mr P, Plankton's probably keeping a close eye on me restaurant and me network of tunnels with his various surveillance equipment. Is there any way you can deactivate them so I can give me formuler a more secure hiding place?"

The man responded, "I'll do it. I've been very well acquainted with Mr. Plankton's manner of thinking. As you know, he has many secret fears, including-"

SpongeBob stopped him.

"No! Please don't tempt Mr. Krabs into that, again!"

The Player continued, "I was just going to say cringy music and dead memes. I've spent 50 years trying to get 'with it'. I even have a Finstagram page (bad joke, obviously). So just sit back and leave the job to me and my diversion-in-a-box (trademarked)."

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Meanwhile, at the Chum Bucket, Plankton was busy muttering and screaming like always.

"It's a conspiracy, I tell you! 1,500 times I've almost had that recipe, and 1,600 times I've ended up in the crap-house!"

Karen, his computer wife tried to console him.

"You know what, Plankton. I'm tired of you moping all day. Why don't you just order something off of a cookbook. Maybe turn it into a breakfast place."

Plankton laughed at her.

"You don't think I've tried? To tell you the truth, there are times when I want to take my mind off the formula, but he doesn't believe me, forcing our rivalry to resume again. It's like he wants me to fail, no matter what and he thinks I'm just a sociopathic, one-dimensional villain pulling off an elaborate ruse."

Karen was about to say something but suddenly her circuits began to go haywire.

Plankton looked around for someone who might have tampered with her, but all he could make out was the sound of a legion of scallops chirping.

That could only mean one thing.

Suddenly, The Player burst in, his arm-mounted soot-screen gun ready to fire.

"Freeze, Plankton!"

The amoeba stood as smug as ever, still eyeing the computer screen showing Krabs' no-longer-secret network.

"You don't scare me, good sir. I know all about your type, the masked man with a sense of self-righteousness. Just like Krabs, in a way."

The Player slowly took his diversion-in-a-box out of his pocket, and it suddenly burst open in a stream of confetti to reveal... a DJ system.

Plankton laughed at him.

"That! Th-that's your big weapon?"

The figure was busy selecting his song while his scallop henchmen worked together to barricade Plankton in.

"Okay, let's see. Baby Shark, Gucci Gang, wait a minute. No, no, no. That'll just keep him awake. Time for my personal touch."

He tapped on a key while the clams held Plankton down and inserted a listening device into both his ears.

All Plankton could make out was the sound of an epeleptic woodpecker tapping on a piece of silver, also known as modern-day rap.

Despite being up in years, The Player was as spry as ever. He knew how to make the young ones cringe. He donned a backwards baseball-cap with the name Lil' P on it, and the show began.

"T-t-t-t-ttttt-t-t-t-t-yuh-t-t-t-t-tttt-t-Lil-Playa-t-t-t-tttt-t-t-t-t-tttt-t-t-t-dab-t-t-tttt-t-t-t-t-t-t-tttt-t-tttt-tt-t-t-clout-t-t-t-tt-tttt-tt-t-t-t-t-yuh-t-yuh-t-yuh-t-tttt-t-t-t-t-I-dab-king-t-t-t-t-tttt-t-t-t-t-dead-meme-t-t-t-t-t-t-tttt-t-t-t-t-Lil-Playa-t-t-t-t-tttt-t-t-t-t-gucci-in-t-t-t-tttt-t-t-my-room-t-t-t-t-ttttt-t-t..."

By the twenty-third loop, Plankton was in a sound sleep, and the scallops had all his security cameras deactivated.

Now all that was left was to give Krabs his reward, and a proper place to seal the formula.