Alrighty, first and foremost I don't own any of these characters, nor do I
speak to them on a regular basis or kidnap them while their sleeping and
beat them to a bloody pulp. Ah with that said and done, lets move on shall
we?
This is my first fan fiction, so its bound to get droll, boring, or pointless in parts, but hey, if you don't like it, then don't read it. Reviews are welcome, but if you put down like, cursing and such, then I'll have to report you yadda yadda yadda. Mmk..here we go.
SPONGEBOB, BEHIND THE SCENES
(DUN DUN DUN) "Cut! That's a wrap! Great job everyone!" The course and strained voice of my whacked out director echoed throughout the set. I sighed, relieved that I didn't have to run down the road screaming "I'm ready I'm ready" again. A guy can get extremely tired of doing that after a while.
I started off to the so-called trailer they provided for me, which was in course, the shape of some type of fruit that I've never seen before. Something called a papaya or close to it. Why can't I just have one normal place to hang out at? I mean Christ, I live in a frieken pineapple, and I can't have a normal trailer? Ugh.such stupid people in the entertainment business. "People like this shouldn't be allowed to reproduce" I muttered to myself and slowly slunk into my "papaya paradise."
I flopped myself down into my chair and stared at myself in the mirror. Even though I hate to be in the spotlight, it would have come to my plate soon enough anyway. I've been officially dubbed as a "porous freak" on the set, and an "unhealthy color of yellow." I'm a sponge, what other color would you like me to be? Would you like me to plug up my pores? Geez, it makes me hate people who just quickly assume things don't hurt. I heard a frantic rapping on the door. "Who is it?" I sighed while rubbing my temples trying to relieve the pressure in my brain.
"It's me, Patrick! Sponge bob just open the door!" My co-worker and current best friend Patrick Star burst into the room looking as pissed off as ever. His familiar flowered trunks were sagging from his tremendous girth. "This guy needs a diet, and bad" I thought to myself and smiled.
"What can I do for ya Patrick? What's the problem?"
"Did you read the script for next week yet?"
"Hell no, I don't read anything about the show if I don't have to right away. Why? Did someone slip LSD into the writer's coffee again?
" Pssh..no they must have been smoking it up this time. They want us to adopt a lost oyster and act as mom and dad!" He slammed down the script onto my dressing table and furrowed his brow. " I don't want the persona of being gay, I'm straight and I like it that way!"
It was true, over the various episodes our well.preference was questioned several times, but we've learned to ignore most of it. A many story came in about us having a so called relationship off the screen, but its just a big ball of lies, besides, I don't swing that way if you get what I'm saying.
"Look Patrick just calm down, I'm sure we can make an adjustment of some kind. Trust me, I don't exactly adore it when I'm accused of liking guys when I'm trying to flirt with some girl."
"Well we better do something soon because I'm not going to take it anymore. That Sandy Cheeks chick is starting to annoy me as well."
Sandy was of course, the squirrel who moves down from the barrens of Texas to live amongst us "sea creatures." She's also the most strong, smart creature in bikini bottom. You have no idea how much that boosts her ego. Seriously folks, she's a complete control freak when she's not in character. God, you'd think that it's called "Sandy cheeks and friends." Patrick and I have had all we can stand from her, but we try to get along just for the sake of the show.
"Ah well Pat, you just have to let it go, she'll come to her senses one time or another." I got up and stretched. "C'mon, lets go check out the snack table, I'm starving."
Patrick quickly walked out the door and ran in the direction of the snack table, but hey, if you weighed as much as you see, you'd jump at the chance of food as well. I adjusted my square-pants and strolled after him.
Low and behold guess whom we should meet there, but Mr. Perfect, a.k.a. Squidward. That guy has a stick up his ass and it's wedged up there pretty far. He of course wears a bald cap for his part. So instead of being an ugly loser who's bald, he's an ugly loser with a full head of hair. Never the less he is a stuck up jerk on and off the set.
"Why hello there fellow actor..still quite mediocre with your techniques on the set I see." He laughed in his nasally little voice.
"Ha, such the funny guy you are." I raised an eyebrow in his direction and turned my attention to Patrick who was scarfing down handfuls of pastries at a time. "Hey Patrick, slow down a bit there dude." He raised his head and nodded in my direction.
"Well I think that your job may be in a bit of danger, John the producer was just commenting on what a superb job I did on the set today." He smirked and bit into a hot pocket. "Gee that must suck to live in someone's shadow.especially someone who's awfully shorter than you." I smiled and walked away smacking Patrick on his back just to make sure he remembered to chew and swallow his food.
The set was typical, that big pineapple house, the 5 tons of sand, the eastern island head and the rock, same old same old. The only interesting place there was the Krusty Krab model. Of course, you could always find Mr. Krabs in there, as well as to be expected. Believe it or not, the guy is obsessed with money.I know it's hard to believe, but you'll just have to trust me on this. One time we closed up for the night and he was in the back, counting the "money." (In all actuality it was monopoly money, but I never said this guy was incredibly bright.)
Mrs. Puff was hardly ever on the set at all, matter of fact; she's been going to counseling on a daily basis. She was always concerned about her car, how it was parked, if it was in regulation, and such. You see, she had a mental episode when her previous husband left her. Of course he was a driving instructor, and a damn strict one at that. I got a ticket for parking 5 inches too far away from the curb. Ridiculous as it may seem, I'm glad at least she got herself out of that. There is obviously some well, mental lapse there, but with the counseling she's getting it's becoming a bit more bearable.
I've always been fairly close with my main actor Gary the snail. He's a good guy, he doesn't talk much, but hey, if I were a midget stuffed in a shell I wouldn't want to talk much either. Yes, the truth is revealed, Gary is a midget. He had a bad time as a kid, his parents were pretty abusive and he learned to curl up into a ball in the corner pretty good. Anyway one day he was at the beach and he slipped, naturally curled up into a ball to protect himself, and suddenly a huge shell comes up from the water and he gets stuck. Sure he could have surgery to get it off of him, but hey, why would you want to? He's got thousands of kids adoring him; I wouldn't want to change a single thing.
"Ah well, another day another dollar" I said to myself and quietly slipped out the back door to my car. I started it up and drove away as fast as I can. You actually think I like work? Ha.your sadly mistaken but you can believe what you want. As for me, I'm sure there's a lot more to be said, but I just want to get the hell out of here.
Hmm.interesting, did ya like it? I'll have more to come in the future. Thanks for reading. -SD
This is my first fan fiction, so its bound to get droll, boring, or pointless in parts, but hey, if you don't like it, then don't read it. Reviews are welcome, but if you put down like, cursing and such, then I'll have to report you yadda yadda yadda. Mmk..here we go.
SPONGEBOB, BEHIND THE SCENES
(DUN DUN DUN) "Cut! That's a wrap! Great job everyone!" The course and strained voice of my whacked out director echoed throughout the set. I sighed, relieved that I didn't have to run down the road screaming "I'm ready I'm ready" again. A guy can get extremely tired of doing that after a while.
I started off to the so-called trailer they provided for me, which was in course, the shape of some type of fruit that I've never seen before. Something called a papaya or close to it. Why can't I just have one normal place to hang out at? I mean Christ, I live in a frieken pineapple, and I can't have a normal trailer? Ugh.such stupid people in the entertainment business. "People like this shouldn't be allowed to reproduce" I muttered to myself and slowly slunk into my "papaya paradise."
I flopped myself down into my chair and stared at myself in the mirror. Even though I hate to be in the spotlight, it would have come to my plate soon enough anyway. I've been officially dubbed as a "porous freak" on the set, and an "unhealthy color of yellow." I'm a sponge, what other color would you like me to be? Would you like me to plug up my pores? Geez, it makes me hate people who just quickly assume things don't hurt. I heard a frantic rapping on the door. "Who is it?" I sighed while rubbing my temples trying to relieve the pressure in my brain.
"It's me, Patrick! Sponge bob just open the door!" My co-worker and current best friend Patrick Star burst into the room looking as pissed off as ever. His familiar flowered trunks were sagging from his tremendous girth. "This guy needs a diet, and bad" I thought to myself and smiled.
"What can I do for ya Patrick? What's the problem?"
"Did you read the script for next week yet?"
"Hell no, I don't read anything about the show if I don't have to right away. Why? Did someone slip LSD into the writer's coffee again?
" Pssh..no they must have been smoking it up this time. They want us to adopt a lost oyster and act as mom and dad!" He slammed down the script onto my dressing table and furrowed his brow. " I don't want the persona of being gay, I'm straight and I like it that way!"
It was true, over the various episodes our well.preference was questioned several times, but we've learned to ignore most of it. A many story came in about us having a so called relationship off the screen, but its just a big ball of lies, besides, I don't swing that way if you get what I'm saying.
"Look Patrick just calm down, I'm sure we can make an adjustment of some kind. Trust me, I don't exactly adore it when I'm accused of liking guys when I'm trying to flirt with some girl."
"Well we better do something soon because I'm not going to take it anymore. That Sandy Cheeks chick is starting to annoy me as well."
Sandy was of course, the squirrel who moves down from the barrens of Texas to live amongst us "sea creatures." She's also the most strong, smart creature in bikini bottom. You have no idea how much that boosts her ego. Seriously folks, she's a complete control freak when she's not in character. God, you'd think that it's called "Sandy cheeks and friends." Patrick and I have had all we can stand from her, but we try to get along just for the sake of the show.
"Ah well Pat, you just have to let it go, she'll come to her senses one time or another." I got up and stretched. "C'mon, lets go check out the snack table, I'm starving."
Patrick quickly walked out the door and ran in the direction of the snack table, but hey, if you weighed as much as you see, you'd jump at the chance of food as well. I adjusted my square-pants and strolled after him.
Low and behold guess whom we should meet there, but Mr. Perfect, a.k.a. Squidward. That guy has a stick up his ass and it's wedged up there pretty far. He of course wears a bald cap for his part. So instead of being an ugly loser who's bald, he's an ugly loser with a full head of hair. Never the less he is a stuck up jerk on and off the set.
"Why hello there fellow actor..still quite mediocre with your techniques on the set I see." He laughed in his nasally little voice.
"Ha, such the funny guy you are." I raised an eyebrow in his direction and turned my attention to Patrick who was scarfing down handfuls of pastries at a time. "Hey Patrick, slow down a bit there dude." He raised his head and nodded in my direction.
"Well I think that your job may be in a bit of danger, John the producer was just commenting on what a superb job I did on the set today." He smirked and bit into a hot pocket. "Gee that must suck to live in someone's shadow.especially someone who's awfully shorter than you." I smiled and walked away smacking Patrick on his back just to make sure he remembered to chew and swallow his food.
The set was typical, that big pineapple house, the 5 tons of sand, the eastern island head and the rock, same old same old. The only interesting place there was the Krusty Krab model. Of course, you could always find Mr. Krabs in there, as well as to be expected. Believe it or not, the guy is obsessed with money.I know it's hard to believe, but you'll just have to trust me on this. One time we closed up for the night and he was in the back, counting the "money." (In all actuality it was monopoly money, but I never said this guy was incredibly bright.)
Mrs. Puff was hardly ever on the set at all, matter of fact; she's been going to counseling on a daily basis. She was always concerned about her car, how it was parked, if it was in regulation, and such. You see, she had a mental episode when her previous husband left her. Of course he was a driving instructor, and a damn strict one at that. I got a ticket for parking 5 inches too far away from the curb. Ridiculous as it may seem, I'm glad at least she got herself out of that. There is obviously some well, mental lapse there, but with the counseling she's getting it's becoming a bit more bearable.
I've always been fairly close with my main actor Gary the snail. He's a good guy, he doesn't talk much, but hey, if I were a midget stuffed in a shell I wouldn't want to talk much either. Yes, the truth is revealed, Gary is a midget. He had a bad time as a kid, his parents were pretty abusive and he learned to curl up into a ball in the corner pretty good. Anyway one day he was at the beach and he slipped, naturally curled up into a ball to protect himself, and suddenly a huge shell comes up from the water and he gets stuck. Sure he could have surgery to get it off of him, but hey, why would you want to? He's got thousands of kids adoring him; I wouldn't want to change a single thing.
"Ah well, another day another dollar" I said to myself and quietly slipped out the back door to my car. I started it up and drove away as fast as I can. You actually think I like work? Ha.your sadly mistaken but you can believe what you want. As for me, I'm sure there's a lot more to be said, but I just want to get the hell out of here.
Hmm.interesting, did ya like it? I'll have more to come in the future. Thanks for reading. -SD
