Chapter 10: Culture Shock
Squidward was sitting at a table in the tiki's kitchen. His hand was covering his face. His cup of green tea had been barely touched. The flower vase on the table had been displaced as a result of the table getting banged several times. He now felt too exhausted to furrow his brows, punch things, or manifest his engulfing despair in any other way. He glanced at the employee hat lying on the sofa and groaned. He turned his chair towards the nearby window and gazed at the purple sky. 'Neptune, why did you deceive me?'
When the image of blue flowers and glittering stars burned into his memory, he glanced at the calendar and dwelled on how much time he had wasted on a fantasy. After several minutes of stillness, a light bulb lit up in his head. He sighed. 'I guess anything's fair game at this point.' He pushed the chair back, fell to his knees before it, put his elbows on the seat; and implored Tyche to give him another blessing.
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The next day…
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March 30, 2008.
The Krusty Krab was nearly deserted. Not a single customer had came that morning. The dance contest and other festivities hosted by the Fancyson family had stolen any money that would have nourished Mr. Krabs' empty pockets.
Mr. Krabs, yesterday, had begrudgingly put a sign that said 'FREE' on the condiments bar. However, it did not affect the drought of money at all. He sat a table and sighed. "If free condiments doesn't bring in customers, what will?" His chin rested on his claw as he brooded.
Squidward had thrown away the dancing magazine. He was lying on the boat, constantly replaying the events of the past as if he was an inmate in solitary confinement who had ran out of things to do. His deadpan face and half-closed eyes made him look like he was in a state between being alive and dead.
The tables in the dining room were gathering dust like buildings in a ghost town. SpongeBob was wiping that dust off with a towel and a bucket of water. He was still dwelling on his visit to Stanley at the hospital. The image of Stanley lying on the white bed constantly reminded him of the bone-chilling memory of the orange square. He bit his lip and resumed wiping the tables at his previous pace.
Mr. Krabs stood up. He glanced at his hard-working sponge and then at the seemingly napping octopus. "Squidward!"
"Yes?" Squidward droned. He sat up slowly and wiped his eyes as his head adapted to a changing blood flow.
"There's gonna be some changes around here." Mr. Krabs, with furrowed brows, put his claws on his hips.
C-CRRREEEEAAK
S-SLAM
A young man who was wearing a purple shirt entered the restaurant.
Mr. Krabs gasped. 'This fellow must be one of the gods.' He put his claws together before his face and then grinned. "A customer! Welcome to the Krusty Krab!" He snatched a chair from a table and placed before the young man.
The young man widened his eyes for a bit, shrugged, and then sat on the chair.
Mr. Krabs pushed him to the table where the chair came from. He then narrowed his eyes at SpongeBob. "SpongeBob, cater to his every whim. Don't screw this one up."
"Aye aye sir!" SpongeBob did a military salute and walked up to the customer. "Welcome aboard, sir! Here at the Krusty Krab, you are the captain, and I am your cabin boy. You just say the word and I will throw myself in the brig! May I take your order?" Like a butler, he folded his hands together behind his back.
"All I wanted was change for the payphone." The young man handed SpongeBob a dollar.
"Aye, sir!" SpongeBob sprinted to the cash register and opened it. He put the dollar into it and took out four quarters. He ran back to the young man and gave the four quarters to him. "Monsieur's change."
"Thanks." The young man put the quarters into his pocket and laughed nervously. "Here you go." With swallowed lips, he dropped a spare penny to the table and stood up from his seat. When he perceived that the staff was not looking at him, he ran to the double door.
S-SLAM
The young man exited the Krusty Krab.
Mr. Krabs glanced back at the table the potential customer formerly occupied. He sighed. He remained downcast for several seconds before his pointy nose detected the familiar scent of a penny. He gasped again. "Yeah!" He grinned, dashed to the penny, and snatched it. A light bulb suddenly lit up in his head. "SpongeBob, Squidward, come into me office." He shoved the penny into his pocket and then briskly walked into his office, leaving the door open for his two employees.
SpongeBob and Squidward entered the office.
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Mr. Krabs sat in his desk.
SpongeBob and Squidward sat on a chair each.
"Now as you may have noticed, profits are way down this week." Mr. Krabs took out a large chart he had been using since last week and showed it to the two employees. It had a zig-zag line that was in a downward slope. "We've got to think of a gimmick to bring in customers." With a solemn face, he put the chart away. "Do you lubbers have any ideas?"
A light bulb lit up in SpongeBob's head. With an overwhelming burst of energy, he leaped and landed with his feet on his chair. "I've got one!" He quickly exited the office and came back with a tray. He then took off his pair of socks and put them on the tray. "A free pair of socks with every purchase! Or maybe 'Double Patty Midnight Madness'! Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh! I know! I know! I know! How about 'Mouth Full O' Clams' day! Everyone who shows up with a mouthful of clams..." He took out some clam clips and clipped them to his tongue. "...gets a free drink! Huh? Huh?" He spoke with the clips still on his tongue.
"Well, uhh, I was thinking more along the lines of live entertainment." Mr. Krabs scratched his head.
SpongeBob put his socks on and put the tray away. He took the clam clips off his tongue and put them back into his pocket.
Squidward's jaw dropped. 'If I manage to run my own show, maybe I'll get fame that way. If I advertise this show right, people in the music industry will get to see me perform. They then might want me in their projects. Hah! I don't need Squilliam. I'll prove to everybody that real artists don't have to bow down to spoiled brats like him!' He sat up with a genuine grin. "That's it, a floor show! Wait, a talent show! With your host, me!" He stood up. "This is the moment I've…" He bit his tongue for a bit and then put a hand on Mr. Krabs' shoulder. "I mean, we've been dreaming of." He leaned towards Mr. Krabs' head and pointed towards the heavens. "Think of it, Mr. Krabs, you will be responsible for bringing culture to this cultural wasteland we call Bikini Bottom! And not to mention, the money."
"The money?" Mr. Krabs' eyes widened.
Squidward, perceiving the vulnerable sparkles in Mr. Krabs' eyes, smirked. "And I can see it now... your daughter, Pearl, her name up in the lights."
On Mr. Krabs' desk was a photo of him and the young blonde whale who was his daughter. The photo had been taken when Pearl was a child. "Little Pearly... a star?" His eyes gained a sheet of moisture. He remembered when Pearl would ask him if she could become as famous as the people she saw on TV and the countless times she would struggle with cheerleading due to her weight. He took hold of the photo and held it near his heart.
"Hoppin' clams! A talent show! I'm talented!" SpongeBob held out both of his arms and leaned towards the desk. "I'd better tell everybody about this!"
Squidward glared at SpongeBob from the corner of his eye. 'Fish paste! I forgot that I'd have to deal with competition. I gotta make sure that he doesn't steal the show.' He then thought of the magic paper. His brows relaxed. His gaze returned to Mr. Krabs. 'I got nothing to worry about. I'll just do the same thing I did last time.'
"Squidward, you've got a deal. Make my little girl a star!" Mr. Krabs stood up and held out his claw.
Squidward and Mr. Krabs shook 'hands'.
SpongeBob put a finger on his chin. "Anyways, who's Pearl?"
"Didn't you listen before? She's my daughter." Mr. Krabs smirked.
SpongeBob gasped. "Why didn't you tell me? I thought you lived alone."
Mr. Krabs pirate laughed.
SpongeBob giggled. "See ya later. I'm gonna make some posters." He walked towards the door to the dining room and exited the office.
Mr. Krabs took out his wallet and began counting the money in it. "Mr. Squidward, how much is this gonna cost?"
"As much as necessary. The stuff we're gonna buy is definitely expensive." Squidward folded his arms.
Mr. Krabs sighed. "As long as it's for Pearly." He inputted a code and opened the safe. He took out a large amount of money and closed the safe. "We're gonna shop now?" He glanced around for a decently-sized bag.
Squidward nodded. "Yep."
The two exited the office.
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Forty five minutes later...
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Mr. Krabs and Squidward were watching several construction workers build a wooden stage and stick purple curtains to the dining room's ceiling.
A long pause.
The construction workers soon completed their work and then exited the Krusty Krab.
"When is this show gonna start?" Mr. Krabs scratched his chin.
Squidward, through a large glass window, was gazing at the horizon. He could not stop wondering about the celebrities and music critics who might come to his show. "It will start not too long after the Krusty Krab closes, more or less during the evening. Before SpongeBob left, I told him to put that info in the ads." He narrowed his eyes slightly at the thought of Squilliam and his posse showing up just to spite him.
"I see." Mr. Krabs nodded.
C-CRRREEEAAK
S-SLAM
SpongeBob, Patrick; and Larry, a buff red lobster who was an acquaintance of the starfish; entered the Krusty Krab.
"We're back!" SpongeBob raised both of his hands. "I went to the library to make and print out those flyers. I think there's enough of 'em spread around that we're good to go." He pat Patrick's shoulder and Larry's back. "They helped me out."
Squidward took a deep breath. "Of course," he droned, "he had to bring people along."
The body shapes of the three men standing at the entrance reminded Mr. Krabs of the buffness and stoutness of his former pirate crewmates. "They look like good money-makers for the night, don't they?" He rubbed his claws together.
"But they gotta have talent." Squidward folded his arms and faintly glared at SpongeBob.
"Give 'em a chance." Mr. Krabs pushed Squidward towards the three. "Don't ye remember when we thought Mr. SquarePants didn't have sea-legs? Don't judge 'em by how they look."
Larry glanced at SpongeBob and scratched his head. "Is your boss gonna run the show?"
Larry's muscles, for Squidward, evoked memories of high school jocks insulting him for his minuscule strength. "The 'boss' who is running this show would be me." Squidward put his hands on his hips and tilted his head upward.
"Oh," said Larry.
An awkward pause.
Patrick was staring at the stage, which coincidentally looked similar to the one used in the dance contest. "Can we join now?" He put his hands together and smiled slightly.
"Not so fast." Squidward shook his head. "I'll have to judge if your talent is decent enough for the show." He put a hand on his chin as he contemplated on the amount of money the masses were going to spend to see the night spectacle. "By the way, we're gonna need more people. Four, including me, is not enough."
"Ooh, ooh!" SpongeBob raised his hand and hopped up and down. "I know somebody!"
"Bring 'em over." Squidward signaled with his hand without bothering to look at SpongeBob.
SpongeBob darted to the shell-phone near the boat, dialed a certain number, and put the phone near his ear.
Another pause.
"Hello?" Sherm picked up the phone on the other end.
"It's me, SpongeBob. How's Stanley?" SpongeBob stopped smiling. He put a finger below his mouth.
"He already recovered. He only stayed at the hospital for an hour before the doc told him that he's good to go. She said that the head injury he got was pretty minor."
"Phew." SpongeBob beamed. He clasped the phone with both hands. "That's really good to hear! Apollo must've spared his life."
"Heh heh. When he came back home, I told him that he won't be pulling off stunts like that anymore. I'm gonna push him to focus on his college studies. I reminded him how much he wanted to be like you, having a talent and finding a good job and all that jazz. However, a problem he's having is that he can't decide on a major. I guess him trying to find his talent is related to that."
SpongeBob's smiled lessened. Tiny sparks appeared in his pupils as a faint sheen of moisture wrapped his eyes. "Uncle, I know it's rough having to worry about his safety, but he has to discover himself. I think deep down Stanley does have potential for something. When I was a kid, it took awhile for me to discover my love for cooking." He giggled. "I used to make a mess in the kitchen all the time, which, y'know, made my mom super-annoyed."
"Anyways, why'd you call me at this hour? I'm in the middle of a game of gin rummy and the other guy's getting pretty pissed... And aren't you working right now?"
SpongeBob straightened his posture. "Oh yeah! I called you 'cause the Krusty Krab's gonna have a talent show. I'm thinking that you should come along to perform 'cause everybody in town knows that 'secret' of yours."
"Oh, at that restaurant? I'd love to. The Krusty Krab has always been one of my favorite eateries. Y'know what's even better? Since Stanley's taking his classes now, I don't have to worry about him destroying the house. I'll come over after this game, 'kay?"
"Alright, see ya later, Uncle Sherm."
"Bye." Sherm put the phone down on his end.
SpongeBob put the restaurant's shell-phone down. When he turned around and saw, through the windows, a citizen walking a pet worm down the street, another light bulb lit up. He stepped towards Squidward. "Is it okay if I can bring an animal?"
Squidward shuddered as vivid memories of jellyfish stings manifested in the form of phantom pains. "Just make sure it's a pet… that's properly domesticated." His hands closed into fists. He furrowed his brows
"Got it." SpongeBob held out a thumbs-up and then jogged out of the restaurant.
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Nine minutes later…
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SpongeBob returned with Gary in one arm and a few sheets of paper and a pencil in another. He placed the snail at a table and put the papers and pencil in front of him. Weird symbols in a language only a snail could understand had already been written on one paper.
Gary took hold of the pencil with his mouth and resumed writing.
Squidward raised his brow as he watched Gary inscribe the strange marks. "What talent does he have? An artist?"
SpongeBob giggled and shook his head. "Poetry."
Squidward tilted his head towards one side. "How can a snail recite a decent poem? You must be delusional to think he'll give a stellar performance." 'Then again, if all the other performers suck, then the showcasing of my talents will stand out even more.' He smirked.
SpongeBob stopped smiling and pat Gary's shell. "Squid, I don't think you should underestimate Gar-bear. They way he says each 'meow' really packs a punch. It's how the poem's meaning is revealed."
Squidward turned around and walked towards the stage. "Regardless, you guys are gonna have to show your talents to me before I decide to put you in my show." He walked up the steps of one side of the stage and began adjusting the curtains to his aesthetic standards.
Mr. Krabs was counting the tiny amounts of money in the register. When he glanced at the clock on the metal wall, he suddenly remembered that Pearl did not have school today. He gasped slightly. "We forgot to fetch Pearly!" He stood up. When he saw SpongeBob jog towards him, he raised his claw. "Don't worry me lad, I'll get her." He placed the dollars and coins back into the register. He then, with the rattle of his feet, scrambled out of the restaurant.
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Ten minutes later…
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C-CREAK
S-SLAM
Pearl had to lower her head so she could fit through the double door. When she stood up fully, she was of a towering height. She was holding pom-poms with both hands. She looked at the stage and giggled at the thought of displaying her cheerleading poses before a large audience. However, the dustiness and creakiness of the floor reminded her of the unsavory aspects of the pirate-like restaurant. "Do I have to do it at this place, daddy?"
"Aye." Mr. Krabs nodded. Turning his gaze towards Squidward, he walked up to him and put a claw on his shoulder. "Make sure to treat her gently, 'kay? She ends up fumblin' if she gets too nervous." He pushed his wallet deeper into his pocket.
Squidward regarded Mr. Krabs' pleading eyes with indifference. "I will see if she's fit for the show or not." He kept his arms folded. His face did not relent with any hint of a smile.
"Don't treat her harsh." Mr. Krabs' brows furrowed. "I'm certain ye remember the last time she acted up. It took a whole day to clean up the mess." With narrowed eyes, he leaned forward. "Mr. Squidward, me money's on the line. If you slip up and get her upset, I'm not the only one who'll lose money. It'll come out of your paycheck too," he loudly whispered.
Squidward frowned. However, he took a deep breath and released the tension in his face. 'Submit to him for now, Squiddy. But in the long run, I'll be victorious for sure. With the magic paper, there's no way I'll fail.' He dug into his shirt pocket. The magic paper was not there. He took a notepad and a pencil from the boat, scribbled into a sticky note, and stuck the note to the shirt pocket's insides.
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Half-an-hour later…
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A boatmobile parked before the Krusty Krab. Sherm, in a white shirt fresh from the dry cleaners tucked into ironed out green pants, stepped out of the vehicle. With a fearless and goofy smile, he strode into the restaurant.
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Sherm pushed the double door open with both hands. He walked towards Mr. Krabs. "Good morning, sir." He held out his hand.
"Ah, one of my long-term customers." Mr. Krabs smiled and firmly shook Sherm's hand. He recognized the vintage style of Sherm's clothes. "You must be here for the talent show, aye?"
"Yep." Sherm glanced around the dining room and then waved towards SpongeBob.
SpongeBob waved back.
Mr. Krabs pointed at Squidward. "I suggest you talk with Mr. Squidward over there. He's the one in charge of the show."
Sherm adjusted his shirt and then walked up to Squidward. He noticed that Squidward was glaring at Pearl. "So does whoever want to perform get to be on the show?"
"Nope." Squidward shook his head. "I have to see a demonstration of your talents and then I'll judge if you're suitable or not. As a matter of fact..." He marched up the stage's steps and stood in the center of the stage. He clapped until everybody in the dining room was looking at him. "Let's get this over with. I'm gonna see your talents right now."
"Can I go first?!" Patrick stood up from his seat and raised his hand.
"Fine. Go ahead." Squidward walked to a table and sat on a seat. He folded his hands together and rested his chin on them.
Patrick jogged to the stage, rubbed his hands together until he felt like they were burning, stuck his belly out, and stood with his feet shoulder length apart. He then drummed with his belly. The resonating sounds sounded almost exactly like a bongo.
SpongeBob began swaying his head. After several seconds, he clapped to the beat.
Squidward's brows knit as he resisted the urge to move in sync with the rhythm of the drumming.
When Patrick finished his performance, he bowed.
Squidward sat up. He touched his shirt pocket only to remember again that the magic paper was absent. "Patrick, I'm somewhat impressed. Even though the way you played the 'drums' was improper and primitive, the sounds created was what made the music passable. Your drumming skills aren't even close to how good I am at playing clarinet but I'll allow you on the show." He folded his arms.
SpongeBob began clapping. Soon, Sherm and Larry were clapping as well.
When Patrick stepped off of the stage, SpongeBob leaped from his seat and landed in front of him. "Way to go, Pat!" He raised his hand.
Patrick and SpongeBob high-fived.
Larry flexed his biceps and pecs. The muscle tone of his upper body was the product of a grueling yet refreshing amount of push-ups. He gazed at the sunlight shining through the window and savored the warm spring weather. "Can I go next?"
Squidward nodded.
Larry opened the double door but took one last look at the dining room. "You guys'll have to wait a while. I need to bring over the props." He then jogged towards the horizon.
"Props?" Squidward leaned his head towards one side.
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Forty minutes later…
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Patrick, with his face lying on a table, was in the middle of a nap.
SpongeBob was attempting to juggle five straws. Some of them kept falling to the floor.
Squidward's head was resting on his hand. His eyes were half-closed. His mind was overflowing with fantasies about how he would triumphantly quit his job in the talent show's glorious aftermath. He glanced at his watch, remembering that the upcoming show was several hours away. He sat up and frowned. "When is he coming-" He suddenly perceived a long dark blue line protruding from the horizon.
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Larry along with several of his friends were carrying a very long water slide towards the Krusty Krab.
While glancing at the eyes watching him, Larry made sure to carry the brunt of the slide's weight.
After several more minutes of sweaty dragging, they stopped before the building and dropped the water slide to the ground.
A connected hose that stretched for nearly a mile had been placed around one edge of the slide. The slide had already been filled with a plentiful amount of water.
One of the friends tossed Larry's surfboard towards him.
Larry caught the surfboard and smirked. "Here we go." He backed up towards the Krusty Krab's double door. When he was only an inch away from the entrance, he dashed towards the slide, tossed his surfboard towards the slide, and hopped on to the surfboard. The surfboard glided through the water as Larry balanced himself on it. A trail of soaring water particles followed him. A wave eventually formed. As he surfed the wave, he did a handstand, then stood on one foot, and then laid down on the surfboard with his claws behind his head.
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Squidward clenched his fists as he watched the lobster perform the stunt. However, when the sunlight made the wave sparkle like a fairy, he could no longer resist the urge to widen his eyes in awe. The shininess of the wave was reminiscent of what he considered to be one of the best paintings he had ever done: a depiction of an expansive beach.
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A pause.
Larry glanced around. His friends were no longer nearby. The wave was quickly reaching the slide's end. He swiftly dove towards the ground.
The large wave splashed into the ground. The warm sunlight allowed the ground to swallow the water.
Larry jogged towards the Krusty Krab with his head held high.
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A minute later…
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S-SLAM
Larry ran into the restaurant, halted, and wiped some sweat from his shelled head. "Well? Was that enough?" He put his claws on his narrow hips and smiled to one side.
'The beauty of that wave was just a coincidence. He's just one of those mindless athletes. Might as well put him in anyway to fill up the time.' Squidward furrowed his brows slightly in an attempt to regain his stern air. He silently nodded.
"Yes!" Larry pumped his fist.
Squidward turned towards the people behind him. "Next."
"Can I go?" Sherm stood up from his seat and grinned.
"Be my guest," Squidward droned. He glanced at his watch.
A hole in Sherm's memory that had been nagging at him ever since he had left his home suddenly became filled. Sherm's eyes widened. "Oh shoot!" He snapped his fingers. "I forgot to bring the watermelon!" He ran towards the double door, in the direction of his boatmobile. "I'll get it in a jiffy!"
Squidward rolled his eyes. His head dropped to his hand. "Please do."
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Eight minutes later…
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Sherm pushed the double door open with his foot. He was holding a watermelon with both hands. He dropped the watermelon to a table and brushed the dust off his hands. "Can I start now?"
Squidward sat up and nodded.
Sherm took several deep breaths through his nose. When his nostrils felt open enough, he pushed the watermelon up his nose. After several seconds, the watermelon got completely inside his nose, making his face look like it had a giant yellow tumor.
Mr. Krabs, with his claws on his belly, pirate-laughed until he nearly suffocated. "So the rumors were true!" He wiped a tear from his eyestalks. "I thought it was just a tale spread amongst me crew."
"Dear Neptune..." Squidward cringed. When he saw mucous dripping out of Sherm's nose, he covered his eyes.
"Cool." Patrick began clapping.
"Heh heh." SpongeBob smiled nervously and folded his hands together.
Larry put a claw on his chin and furrowed his brows. "Is he okay? I can be a lifeguard off duty, y'know."
Sherm chuckled. "You don't have to worry about me." He closed his unoccupied nostril and blew his nose. The watermelon slipped out of his nose and landed on the floor with a THUD. "I've practiced many, many times." He put his hands on his hips and smirked.
"There's no way I can put you on the show." Squidward shook his head. "Not only what you did was utterly disgusting, it will also make the audience demand a refund. I don't want my reputation to sink further."
"Can I have one of the best seats then?" Sherm took out his wallet, dug through it, and held out a moderate amount of money.
Mr. Krabs stared at the dollars and grinned. "It's a deal!" He snatched the money and quickly tucked it into one of his pockets.
Squidward sighed.
As Sherm walked towards the double door, he signaled a peace sign towards SpongeBob and Mr. Krabs. "See ya guys later." He then exited the Krusty Krab.
"Who's left?" Squidward put a hand on his hip.
SpongeBob raised his hand.
"Meow." Gary slithered towards Squidward. His mouth was holding a paper that had been filled out with those strange symbols.
Squidward, no longer bothering to even express fake interest, looked at Gary with a deadpan face. After a few seconds, he shrugged.
Gary let go of the paper. He moved until he was directly in front of it. He coughed as a way of saying 'ahem'. "Meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow." The poem had a rhythmic yet repetitive tone; it almost perfectly captured the monotony and daydreaming that was swirling inside Squidward's mind. When he finished, he lowered his eyestalks as a way of bowing.
Squidward was staring into space. He had forgotten when he had stood up. He had nearly become entranced by Gary's smooth noises. He nodded. "You're in."
Gary smiled and, with his eyestalks, put the paper into his shell. He slithered back to SpongeBob.
Squidward sat back down. "Anybody else?"
"Ooh, ooh, me next, please?" Pearl giggled and shook her pom-poms.
Squidward nodded nonchalantly.
Pearl jogged up to the wooden stage. She held out her arms and shook the pom-poms. "GIVE ME A K-R-U!" She jumped up and down.
The floor of the Krusty Krab rattled violently. Several of the planks creaked and nearly broke free from the nails keeping them in place.
"W-woah!" Patrick fell from his seat and landed on the floor back-first.
"GIVE ME A S-T-Y!" Pearl shook the pom-poms again, leaped, and landed on the floor in a handstand.
A mini-earthquake erupted from the stage.
Squidward tightly hugged the mast. When he saw Mr. Krabs sitting in the boat while clinging to the cash register, he scowled with clenched teeth.
"Good job, Pearly!" Mr. Krabs clapped.
"Krusty Krab!" Pearl jumped up and down three times, causing several tables to fall to the floor. "KRUSTY KRAB!" She jumped as high as she could and landed on the floor. "How did I do?"
Squidward sat at an untouched table. He glanced in Mr. Krabs' direction and perceived that Mr. Krabs had his arms folded. He sighed and slouched. "I'll let you in," he droned.
"Yay!" Pearl cartwheeled off the stage.
Squidward's head rested on his hand as he gazed in his local temple's direction. He did not notice that SpongeBob was only inches away from him.
SpongeBob, with swallowed lips, slowly took out his bubble wand and bottle of soap.
When Squidward leaned back, he saw SpongeBob from the corner of his eye. "Oh boy." He took a deep breath. His eyes became half-closed. He then twirled his hand. "Just do it," he muttered.
SpongeBob smiled slightly, dipped the wand into the bottle, and then blew at the wand. Two bubbles that looked like elephants wearing tuxedos squeezed out of the wand. The two 'elephants' danced gracefully throughout the dining room until they slammed into each other.
Many bubbles that looked like tigers, jellyfish, monkeys, men in tuxedos while wearing top hats, butterflies, snakes, giraffes, bears, ballerina dancers; and scallops struggled their way out of the wand. SpongeBob ran to the center of the room and twirled on his two feet.
The 'ballerina dancers' twirled around SpongeBob. The 'men with top hats' danced in a circle around the 'ballerina dancers'. The 'jellyfish', 'butterflies', and 'scallops' flew above the other bubbles and danced in a path that looked like an infinity loop. The 'snakes' slithered in a path that looked like a triangle and surrounded the ballerina and top hat bubbles. The 'elephants' stood on two feet and blew musical notes with their noses. The 'bears', 'giraffes', 'monkeys', and 'tigers' danced throughout the dining room in a path that looked like a square.
"Well, whad'ya think?" SpongeBob folded his hands together. His smile began to quiver.
"'kay." Squidward shrugged without caring to look at SpongeBob in the eye.
SpongeBob put a hand on his chin and stopped smiling. "Squid, you okay?"
"Just bored, that's all," Squidward spoke while still staring in his local temple's direction, wrestling with a newfound optimism and a long-established pessimism that were as contrary as light and dark. He touched his shirt pocket and felt the sticky note. "Aw, screw it," he whispered and stood up. He walked with an unwavering gait to the stage.
When Mr. Krabs finished his absentminded task of counting all of the pennies in the cash register, a memory suddenly surfaced. "Ah!" He scrambled to a microphone and its holder that had been placed below the stage. "How did I forget this doo-hickey?" He put the microphone on the holder and placed them on the stage. "It almost cost me as much as Pearly's allowance."
Squidward, with one hand behind his back, picked up the microphone. "Attention performers, you may now leave the Krusty Krab to get the things you'll need to properly perform your talents. Once you get that stuff, you may come back to continue practice." He then placed the microphone on its holder and walked off the stage.
Patrick turned towards SpongeBob. "Anything I'm missing?"
SpongeBob scratched his head for a few seconds before a light bulb lit up. "Why not some drumsticks?"
"Food? But there's plenty here." Patrick glanced at the Galley Grub.
SpongeBob giggled. "No, not that. I'm talking about the instrument."
Patrick moved his mouth towards one side. "I dunno. I don't think sticks would work on my tummy." He shook his bloated belly with both hands. "My hands work better since it makes it shake more."
"Then how about… hand-pads?"
Patrick shrugged. "We could try looking for 'em."
"Alrighty then." SpongeBob smiled and took hold of Patrick's wrist. The two then jogged out of the restaurant.
Squidward, once he felt like SpongeBob and Patrick were far away enough, left the Krusty Krab as well.
S-S-S-S-S
Eight minutes later…
S-S-S-S-S
Squidward stepped into the tiki's living room and picked up the magical paper. The paper had a yellower tint and was slightly smaller than before. He cocked a brow. 'This looks kinda different.' He then shrugged. 'Maybe it's 'cause I used it a few times.' He tucked the paper into his shirt pocket. Without much more thought, he exited his home.
S-S-S-S-S
As Squidward walked towards the Krusty Krab, a shadowed group of people with oddly-shaped heads were watching him from the horizon's edge. Their eyes were glowing a golden hue.
S-S-S-S-S
Ten minutes later…
S-S-S-S-S
A plentiful amount of customers were waiting in line to say their orders. Like high-quality fish bait, the talent show advertisements had reeled the masses back in.
Squidward, while glancing at the magic paper in his shirt pocket, was swiftly putting money into the register and scribbling notes to the order wheel.
SpongeBob and Patrick returned to the restaurant.
Patrick was wearing a pair of hand-pads. "Y'know, Sponge, when we did that dance before losing the contest, didn't you feel something weird?"
"Yeah..." SpongeBob opened the kitchen door. "It's the same kinda feeling you get when you're… in a temple or performing a spell, something like that. "
"Magic?" Patrick scratched his head. "How's that possible? Didn't that magic thingy stopped working when we tried to run away from those crazy people at the forest?"
SpongeBob put a hand on his chin. "That's true, but at the end of the day, I don't really know why we lost, Pat." He bit his lip. "Maybe improvising wasn't enough."
Patrick stared at the floor and paced in circles as he struggled to extract an idea from his foggy mind. After what felt like an hour, a light bulb finally lit up. "Maybe someone used a magic paper on us."
"There's more than one paper?"
Patrick shrugged. "Could be."
SpongeBob looked at Squidward from the corner of his eye. He still remembered what Squidward had said near the end of their competition for the Employee of the Month award. He exhaled and lowered his gaze to the floor. 'Would Squid really do something like that to us? Would he really cheat?' He scratched his chin as he broke down his memories of the reef blower incident piece by piece. 'We found that magic paper outta nowhere. Where in the world can Squid find another one?' He pushed away images of Squidward's discontent. He smiled resolutely and returned his gaze to Patrick. "There's no way Squid would be able to cheat on us. We have no proof he found a magic paper."
Patrick shrugged again. "You're prolly right."
"I'm serious, Pat." SpongeBob put his hands on his hips. "How can Squidward find something like that? We don't know how that paper got into the reef blower. For all I know, it could've been divine intervention. We probably just lucked out when we found it."
Patrick had a childlike smile. "Can't argue with that."
Squidward's heartbeat had quickened as he overheard the two pests' conversation. He adjusted the paper in his shirt pocket. He glanced at his watch, watching the hands tick towards the hour of judgement. As he heard the sizzling of the kitchen grill, he imagined being subjected to the drudgery of the fast-food industry until he was at death's door. He gulped. 'This has to work. Please, Neptune, make it work.' He stared at the stage as if it was the last lifeboat on a sinking ship.
S-S-S-S-S
Several hours later…
S-S-S-S-S
6:30 PM. The sky had darkened to an evening purple.
Johnny Erain, with camera equipment getting focused on him, was standing in front of the Krusty Krab while speaking into a microphone. He was reporting about the talent show occurring inside the restaurant.
Numerous people in formal clothes were walking in a single-file line into the Krusty Krab.
S-S-S-S-S
SpongeBob's mother and father stepped into the restaurant.
Each table in the dining room had a white cloth over it, a lit candle, and a plate full of Krabby Patties.
Mr. Krabs, who was standing near the front door while holding a bag of cash, smirked and held out his claw. "Hello, I'm Mr. Krabs, and I like money." He shook hands with both of the sponges. His claw then remained outstretched. He motioned them. "Pay the fee."
Ms. SquarePants took out a few dollars from her purse. "Is this enough, right?"
Mr. Krabs chuckled and shook his head. "More."
Ms. SquarePants took out several more dollars. "This seems quite… costly for an entrance fee."
Mr. Krabs laughed. "There's a reason why I used to be a pirate." He snatched the money from SpongeBob's mother's hand and dropped them into his bag.
Mr. SquarePants put a finger on his chin. "You must be our son's boss, right?"
Mr. Krabs snickered. "Doesn't all the money in me bag give me status away?"
SpongeBob's parents chuckled.
When Mr. Krabs perceived that the parents were gazing at the stage, he pointed at an empty table. "I can tell that ye have another question on yer mind." He stepped towards the table, pulled open two chairs, and sat in another seat.
SpongeBob's parents sat before the crustacean.
"I'll ease yer worries right now. The spongy lad will be in the show."
"Thank Neptune." SpongeBob's dad wiped sweat off his brow. "We were worried for a sec."
S-S-S-S-S
SpongeBob was behind the purple curtains of the wooden stage. He peeked over a curtain's edge and widened his eyes at the large crowd forming at the tables. "Wow! A full house!" he loudly whispered. He then noticed that his mother and father were sitting nearby. He gasped. "There's Mom and Dad! I gotta get ready!" He grinned from ear to ear. He stepped back into the curtain.
Squidward, adorned in a tuxedo, stepped into the back of the wooden stage. He was smirking. He had just conversed with several of Bikini Bottom's famous composers and playwrights. He turned towards the people practicing behind the curtain. He clapped hard. "Alright people, listen up. Gather around everyone, chop, chop."
SpongeBob, Patrick, Larry, Pearl, and Gary gathered around Squidward.
Squidward put his hands on his hips. "Now, you may be thinking this is your one shot at the big time. Well, it's not. It's mine." He pointed towards himself. "If anybody messes up while performing, it won't matter since I am the star of this show." His smirk widened. "If you wanna do well, it's up to you. You've practiced enough times to know what to do. I'm not gonna clean up your mess."
SpongeBob nodded and did a military salute. "I won't let you down."
Squidward rolled his eyes and clenched his fists. As he walked towards the curtain, one of Larry's friends ran up to him. "The water slide's ready!"
Squidward folded his arms. "That's good to know. Now get out." He pointed towards the stage's exit.
Larry's friend promptly left.
S-S-S-S-S
Squidward opened the curtain, strode across the stage, took hold of the central microphone, and faced the crowd.
The microphone emitted a ringing.
Everybody in the dining room became quiet.
Squidward took out his personally written cue cards from a pocket in his tuxedo, scanned each of them, and put the cards back into the pocket. He focused his gaze on the celebrities sitting nearby. He beamed, tilted his head upward, and made sure he did not slouch. "Good evening and welcome to the first Squidward Tentacles Talent Show," he spoke energetically. After a few seconds, he remembered the rest of the first cue card. His smile lessened. "Sponsored by the Krusty Krab, home of the Krabby Patty, because no one else would give it a home," he droned.
Patrick laughed from behind the curtain.
An awkward pause.
Squidward spotted Mr. Krabs from among the crowd and resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Thank you. Our next act is living proof that nepotism is alive and well."
Patrick laughed harder.
Squidward furrowed his brows and stopped smiling altogether. "Put your fins together for-"
Patrick was suffocating in laughter.
"Put your-"
Patrick was banging his fists on the stage's floor as he laughed. A tear was rolling down his cheek.
"Pearl." Squidward shoved the microphone back into its holder. He muttered curses towards Patrick as he stomped through the curtain.
The audience clapped as the curtain rose. Everybody who was on the wooden stage except for Pearl walked to back of the stage.
Mr. Krabs was the last one to stop clapping. "Hooray! My little girl is finally a star." He whistled and held out a thumbs-up towards Pearl.
Pearl held out her pom-poms. "GIVE ME A K-R-U!" She leaped, flipped while moving the pom-poms in circular patterns, and landed on the stage rear-first.
The floor of the dining room quaked. The tables rattled and people struggled to remain in their seats.
"GIVE ME A S-T-Y!" Pearl shook her pom-poms in triangular patterns and leaped again. When gravity pulled her back, a more violent quake erupted from the stage.
The shockwave caused the crowd to soar out of their seats. They then, while screaming, fell back to the floor in disarray.
Pearl leaped so high that she nearly touched the ceiling. "Krusty Krab!" When she began succumbing to gravity, she aimed her feet towards the stage. "KRUSTY KRAB!" She then landed on the wooden floor by acrobatically flipping across it, lessening the impact of the shockwave.
The wooden stage shook unsteadily.
Pearl jumped to a lower height than before. "Krusty Krab!" She landed on the stage without causing it to shake. She bowed a few times, completely unaware that almost the entire audience was silent. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"
The curtain fell.
Mr. Krabs was the only person in the dining room clapping. "That's what I call talent!"
S-S-S-S-S
Squidward peeked from the curtain and saw the crossed faces of the celebrities, whose clothing had been disheveled by Pearl's performance. He swallowed his lips. 'I better use the magic paper now. If they get too pissed, they might get too picky. I can't let them shut their eyes from my superior talents.' He stepped back into the curtain and gazed towards the magic paper inside his tuxedo. After several seconds, it glowed brighter and then flashed.
SpongeBob leaned his head towards one side. "You looking at something?"
Squidward shook his head without making eye contact with SpongeBob. "It's nothing." He took hold of a stool and placed Gary on it.
S-S-S-S-S
Squidward opened the curtain and placed the stool and Gary in tow near the central microphone. "And now, poetry. By Gary." He promptly walked back into the curtain.
Gary leaned towards the microphone. "Meow. Meow. Meow. Meow. Meow. Meow. Meow. Meow. Meow. Meow. Meow. Meow. Meow. Meow. Meow. Meow. Meow. Meow. Meow. Meow. Meow. Meow. Meow. Meow. Meow. Meow." The subtle changes in the tone of his meows gave the performance a haunting aura. When he finished his poem, he closed his eyes and bowed with his eyestalks.
Most of the crowd clapped. A few classy customers snapped their fingers.
Squidward pulled the stool and Gary in tow through the curtain.
S-S-S-S-S
SpongeBob was gazing at Gary with his hands folded together. "He has such a way with words."
"Yeah…" Patrick was staring into space. The meows in the poem had evoked memories of the operas he would hear from the radio at his parents' house.
Squidward glanced at Patrick and a light bulb lit up in his head. 'This'll be for ruining the intro.' He pointed at Patrick and smirked. "You're next." He then turned around and walked towards the curtain. He chuckled. 'I bet those insiders won't be impressed by his drumming at all. To be honest, allowing him in was just an act of mercy.' He opened the curtain.
Patrick shook back to his senses and widened his eyes.
S-S-S-S-S
Squidward, with a trace of his smirk, walked to the central microphone. "If you had heard someone laughing while I was speaking, here he is, Patrick Star." He glanced at the nearby celebrities, gauging their reactions, before returning to the backstage.
Patrick stepped out of the curtain and strolled to the microphone. He slapped his stomach with both hands before beginning his percussion performance. The hand-pads gave his drumming sounds an oomph that made them sound just like the ones from an actual bongo.
Some of the audience widened their eyes in astonishment. A few dropped their jaws, believing it was the work of magic.
The crowd clapped and whistled.
Patrick bowed and began his return to the backstage. Before he even touched the curtain, Squidward opened it.
Squidward, with a frown, marched to the central microphone. He glared at Patrick from the corner of his eye before moving his gaze towards the audience. "And now, one of the best surfers in town, Larry the Lobster," he droned. He then marched to the backstage.
Larry, while holding a surfboard, jogged out of the curtain, jumped off the stage, and landed on the floor. He ran across the dining room.
S-SLAM
S-S-S-S-S
Larry exited the restaurant, hugged his surfboard against his torso, and dove to the water slide. When the surfboard glid fast enough along the slide, he stood on the surfboard. After a minute, a wave formed behind the surfboard. He pulled off several moves while still touching the surfboard in some way. Larry then dove to the ground when the wave reached the water slide's end.
S-S-S-S-S
A minute later…
S-S-S-S-S
S-SLAM
Larry barged into the restaurant with both claws outstretched. He then smirked and flexed his biceps.
The crowd clapped. The audience members who were familiar with Larry stood up from their seats and either yelled or whistled.
Squidward, peeking from the curtain, rolled his eyes.
With his head triumphantly tilted upward, Larry strode up the stage's steps and walked into the curtain.
S-S-S-S-S
Squidward walked to the other side of the curtain, peeked from there, and did a certain hand signal towards a volunteer in a suit.
S-S-S-S-S
The volunteer did a thumbs-up and pressed a button on the remote he was holding.
Several spotlights aimed towards the wooden stage lit up.
S-S-S-S-S
Squidward took off his tuxedo, revealing the leotard underneath. He put sweatbands on his forehead and ankles. As he changed clothes, he put the magic paper into his leotard without anybody noticing. He then gazed at the magic paper and closed his eyes. 'C'mon, Squiddy, you can't fail now. This is your last chance to get outta this Hades hole.' After several seconds, the paper glowed. When he opened his eyes, it flashed and blinded him for a few seconds. He then smiled. 'It must've worked.' He then walked briskly through the curtain.
S-S-S-S-S
When Squidward got near the microphone, he put his hands behind his back and leaned towards it. "And now, ladies and gentlemen, the moment you've all been waiting for. We've saved the best for last. Put your hands together for the incomparable Squidward!" He then stepped back, held out all of his limbs, and lifted his head towards the heavens. He then performed a dance that was reminiscent of the flight of a scallop. During that dance, a classical piece could be heard from a radio the same volunteer was controlling. After a few minutes, the radio changed to a techno dance song. Squidward then wiggled his limbs and bobbed his head.
"What the?!" One of the people sitting in the tables cocked a brow.
The crowd booed and held out thumbs downs.
Squidward halted and widened his eyes. "How is this possible?" he whispered, "I practiced. I used the magic paper. Nothing should've went wrong." After a minute, he reached a loss of words. He stared at the crowd awkwardly.
SpongeBob opened the curtain slightly. He put a hand over his mouth as he heard the hateful words being spouted towards Squidward. 'I can't let Squid suffer like this.' He bit his lip, stepped out of the curtain, and tip-toed towards Squidward.
Squidward perceived SpongeBob's presence. He frowned.
"Don't worry, Squid. I got your back." SpongeBob smiled and winked. He took out his bubble wand and soap bottle. He took a deep breath.
SpongeBob's parents whistled for him.
SpongeBob slowly opened the cap of the soap bottle. He knew from the corners of his eyes that everybody in the dining room were now focused on him. He dipped the wand into the bottle, took it out, and inhaled deeply. He then blew many bubbles that looked like zoo animals and people. He twirled at a rapid speed and the bubbles danced around him.
The crowd silently watched.
P-P-P-P-P-POP!
All of the bubbles popped and SpongeBob bowed.
The entire audience stood up from their seats. They cheered so loudly that pedestrians from half-a-mile away could hear them. They chanted SpongeBob's first name and some even threw flowers towards SpongeBob's feet.
SpongeBob blushed. "Why, thank you." He wrapped the flowers into a bouquet and waved at his parents. He looked to his right and saw Squidward, with downcast eyes and his head held low, slowly marching towards the curtain. Squidward's glance towards him evoked a memory.
S-S-S-S-S
Stanley slowly opened his eyes. He was lying on a bed in a hospital room. He sat up. Gauze was wrapped around his head, with strands of his black hair sticking out. When his vision fully adjusted to the room's bright lights, he realized that SpongeBob and Sherm were sitting on seats to his left.
"Oh, thank goodness!" SpongeBob beamed and clapped.
Sherm gave Stanley a warm hug.
Stanley repeatedly and shakily tapped the tips of his fingers together. "Did I still win?"
Sherm sighed and shook his head.
Stanley lowered his eyes towards the floor and tilted his head downward, dwelling on a dream that once again had escaped his grasp.
S-S-S-S-S
A faint lump formed in SpongeBob's throat. He smiled warmly. "You want this?" He held out the bouquet towards Squidward.
"No," Squidward hissed and shook his head.
SpongeBob's parents waved back.
S-S-S-S-S
Twenty-three minutes later…
S-S-S-S-S
As Squidward cleaned up the messes left behind on the tables, he watched Mr. Krabs raise his claws while praising SpongeBob. He narrowed his eyes at SpongeBob. 'Look how spoiled he is. He gets all the admiration in the world, over something that came from my idea, and I get nothing.' He glanced at the magic paper, which had been tucked into his shirt pocket. 'How could the paper fail? Did I anger the gods?' He put a hand on his chin as wild conspiracies flew through his mind. He then shook his head. 'There's no way SpongeBob could've manipulated the crowd like that. Something clearly went wrong with the magic paper.' He gazed at the night sky. The stars, combined with the floating flowers, seemed to have formed faces. 'What did I do to upset Neptune? How did I mess up?'
A long pause.
Mr. Krabs gently kicked Squidward's rear. He smirked. "No slackin' off, ye understand? Just 'cause the show was a hit doesn't mean ye can go at yer own pace."
Squidward furrowed his brows and cleaned the tables at a faster pace. He muttered words that Mr. Krabs could not decipher.
Mr. Krabs put his claws on his hips. "Why the long face? Didn't ye forget that you're gettin' a boosted wage?" He chuckled.
Squidward turned his gaze towards the streetlights nearby. He remembered the countless evenings where he would return from work with meager pay and spent the rest of the day dreading tomorrow's slave labour. He then turned his attention back to Mr. Krabs.
Mr. Krabs was taking out the dollars from his large bag and organizing them into piles.
Squidward sighed and swam in the comforting darkness of his pessimism. No matter what he did, he seemingly could never escape the prying claws of the overlord who would determine whether he would remain alive or starve to death. 'If I'm gonna be staying here for the rest of my life, I might as well spite him.' He turned towards Mr. Krabs and began brainstorming wicked schemes. After several minutes of cleaning and contemplating, he glanced to his right and noticed through the calendar on the wall that April 1st was tomorrow. He glanced to his left and saw SpongeBob and Mr. Krabs conversing near the office door. A devilish smile gradually formed across his face. 'I'm sorry, SpongeBob, but you're gonna be my pawn… you know what? I'm not sorry. I bet he had no noble intentions when he stole my spotlight.' He rubbed his hands together and glanced at the other parts of the dining room as his plan began to take shape.