It was a long trip home. Kowalski hadn't realised just how much time he had spent on this endeavor but he knew when he finally arrived back at the zoo it wouldn't be a moment too soon. Through the journey all he could think about was how much of a coward and a traitor he was. Too cowardly to risk his safety for the safety of his team. Selling them out by giving Blowhole inventory of everything they own. He really had played right into his trap. He supposed he could just run away, hideout somewhere so he wouldn't be a threat to his team or Blowhole. Though, Blowhole still had all these things in his leg. Would he go so far as to kill him? Had he killed before?

Reaching the zoo was bittersweet. He was finally glad to back in familiarity but he didn't think he would be able to look Skipper in the eyes once he reached the HQ.

There were still a few visitors around and about but the day was drawing to a close and the zoo would soon be closed. He stealthily made his way to the HQ and entered through the fish bowl hatch, climbing down the ladder and finding himself standing in the crowded room.

Skipper was sat with Private, they were playing some sort of drawing game. Private was drawing something completely unrecognisable as Skipper sipped on his cup of coffee trying to guess what the scribble could be.

Skipper gave a glance Kowalski's way and smiled.

"Ah! Nerd's back," Skipper said.

Kowalski just sighed.

"Yes, Nerd's back," Kowalski replied.

"Your supplies didn't fit in your shopping cart?"

Kowalski went red and his eyes went wide for a moment. He forgot that that was his excuse for needing to leave and here he was now empty handed.

"Ah, they didn't have what I needed," he concluded.

"Then what took so long?"

Help Skipper, Blowhole's got me stuck in a backwards blackmail trap. He's going to kill me if I tell you he's planning to destroy humanity by infecting them with his own plague that'll turn them all into monsters! Alas he couldn't say that but by some slim chance Skipper had telepathy powers he screamed it in his mind.

"I stopped for snow cones, Sir."

Skipper slammed his cup down on the table he sat around. An unamused look on his face and a raised brow challenging Kowalski on his own words. Skipper looked suspicious, or rather more suspicious than usual. Almost like he knew something. Could he have known something? Skipper had eyes and ears everywhere, much like Blowhole did, though Kowalski still didn't know where Blowhole's bugs could have been. But back to the problem of Skipper staring Kowalski down. Kowalski trembled slightly.

"You don't think the rest of the team would have liked some?" Skipper asked.

Kowalski paused for a moment to take a breath. Then he let out a confused, "What?"

Skipper dramatically turned his head to private and flicked the pencil out of the boy's flippers.

"Would you have liked a snow cone, Private?"

Private gave a whimper of a sob at his lost pencil before he looked up.

"Yes, I would have."

Skipper picked up his coffee cup once again, bringing it to his mouth before glaring at Kowalski again.

"Well I'm afraid Kowalski went without us."

Kowalski gave a sigh of relief. Skipper was clueless and he intended on trying to keep it that way as best as he could. At least he was only in trouble for not bringing them back snow cones and not treason.

"I'm sorry, Sir. It won't happen again, I'll be more thoughtful," Kowalski said as he gave a sweet smile.

Skipper seemed to buy it for now and carried on with the little game him and Private were playing while Kowalski dragged his sorry feet into his lab.

His lab was small, dimly lit and filled with junk. After spending time in Blowhole's lair he came to the realisation that bad guys indeed get the good stuff.

He sat down at a table covered in useless trinkets and spare old parts and crashed his head down in despair. He'd get over this flump in a few days but the rawness of the situation made it sting all the more. He'd momentarily forget he was being held at gunpoint and be content again until Blowhole called him in. That was the way it was going to go for a long while.

-

Blowhole was back in his office. He wasn't getting much done since seeing Kowalski had sent him into a state of narcissism. He could get his work done whenever he wanted and he didn't need his workers to tell him when it needed to be done.

There was a knock on the door. Blowhole looked up from his computer screen to see the door open and a not so impressed looking lobster scuttle in. It was Red one, his right hand lobster and longest friend.

"Doc," he started.

"Red," Blowhole answered with a smirk.

Red one just sighed and shook his head.

"I've just been informed you let Kowalski in on what we're doing. What's the point in having a secret evil company when you go and tell all our enemies anyway?"

The lobster didn't look happy but what did Blowhole care? They worked for him, so they could be as angry as they wanted. It didn't make a difference.

Blowhole did think about stirring the pot a bit more. It was always funny to watch red creatures turn even more red with rage.

"I'm teaching him how to read too."

But the lobster didn't give the reaction Blowhole hoped for. He just dropped his clipboard on the floor and began walking away.

"Hey, where are you going? Pick that up!" Blowhole shouted after the lobster.

"I quit!"

"You can't quit! You owe me your life."

The lobster turned around in the frame of the door and rolled his eyes dramatically.

"I'll get back to work as soon as you stop running this circus because working here has become a joke."

This time Blowhole rolled his eye. Red one always was dramatic. But he never would leave. He'd declared strikes before that lasted weeks but he had never left Blowhole's side. He cared too much about him and that's what made their friendship stand out above all of the other lobsters.

"Will you let me explain myself before you sully my name?"

The lobster stood and just stared. If he could cross his claws or put one on a hip and stand antagonistically he would have.

"First, what part of 'I have his end life button' do you not understand? He can't do anything against my word unless he wants to die. And teaching him to read just pulls him further into my mental trap. Establish trust and a false sense of security and then reap the rewards. He'll end up accidentally working for me, will trust me enough to let things slip by him. I even plan on testing the behemothvirus on him when it's ready. He'll never see it coming. Make sense now?"

There was a moment of silence before the lobster smacked his claw into his own face.

"No! This is just your sadistic dolphin nature to toy with your food before you eat it. If you wanted to test the virus then you could just grab Kowalski and test it. You don't need to do good by him, you're Dr. Blowhole!"

Blowhole rolled his eye again and sighed. He hated these little fights between him and Red. It only wasted time since he would never take the criticism.

"Well why don't you let me play? Because what is an evil villain if they don't do everything in their power to inflict pain and suffering on their enemies?"

"I thought you didn't like the word villain?"

"You're changing the subject."

The lobster sighed and walked back into the room, grabbing the clipboard from the floor and turning to the door again.

"Sometimes I feel like I'm the only one with my head screwed on right. Just try to keep to the schedule. And if this all blows back in your face I will be laughing."

Blowhole slouched back in his chair and scoffed, annoyed. The lobster knew how to push his buttons but he wouldn't be without him either.

"Thanks, Red one."

"Appreciate it, Doc," he said sarcastically as he scuttled away.

Blowhole was left alone again to get on with work. Though, now he really didn't feel like working. Perhaps it was time for some downtime since the day was drawing to a close anyway. Yes, get out, hunt some fish and rip them apart with his bare teeth. Sounded like a good plan.