Chapter 14: Pineapple Fever
Several hours later…
S-S-S-S-S
Several waves of clouds had returned to the sky, partly obscuring the sunlight coming through the dining room's windows.
The two TVs hanging on the ceiling had been turned on. Johnny Erain's image was on both of them.
"With the presidential election beginning soon, the two main candidates are vying for the voters who have remained independent from any political party. Polls currently show that Goldfish's policies are more popular throughout the country. However, due to Goldfish's attitude towards the media; Stingray has received more financial support than Goldfish, with his major contributors being the country's most successful corporations, the Fancyson family, and the Conch sisters."
Squidward snorted and leaned back on the the boat.
"It's bribery in all but name," he said.
"What do you mean?" Mr. Krabs was sitting in his office chair, which he had placed against the metal wall. "Stingray's party, the Liberals, have always been good for business. Bosses like meself deserve a stable income like everybody else."
"But that's not fair." Squidward crossed his arms. "You're the one who owns this place. Since you have more money than me, you basically run the stakes."
Mr. Krabs laid his claws on his chair's arms.
"Goldfish isn't a saint. Those big-name unions backing him embody th' pirate spirit more than I do. If moochin' off th' hard work of those who manage the businesses is called 'getting one's due', I wouldn't have bought this place." He laughed.
"I'm not a big fan of unions either but how can they be as bad as the oligarchs they're fighting against? I heard the companies these rich folk own have been dumping chemical wastes into the lagoons."
Mr. Krabs laughed again. He wiped a small tear from his eyestalk.
"Mr. Squidward, you'll understand what I be sayin' when you run a business yerself." He raised his claw above his eyestalks. "When you have to pay taxes as high as ransoms for captives on other ships, you have to accept any help you can get. The Liberals have proven time after time that they don't let slackers stop businesses from growin'."
"How can you support Stingray if he's blabbering all the time about being 'tough on crime'?"
"Th' both o' 'em are claimin' that." Mr. Krabs flicked his wrist. "Supporting yerself isn't a crime. If not, why would Mercury create money in th' first place?"
"You don't get it." Squidward shook his head. "You used to be a pirate. You were no better than those drug dealers and thugs. You might as well call yourself a former gang member." His nose honked as he laughed.
"Me crew has never killed anybody, never sold a single drug, nor had stolen from innocent vessels." Mr. Krabs sat up, casting a shadow over Squidward. "Th' only ships we robbed were other pirate ships or those big carriers."
Squidward put a hand on his chin.
"If you were robbing delivery ships, doesn't that mean that you were stopping other businesses from growing? What's the point of being all pro-business if you're only looking out for yourself?"
"Do you want me to cut yer paycheck?"
Squidward sighed.
"No." With half-closed eyes, he resumed watching one of the TVs.
One of the customers, a blue male fish wearing a cap that said 'STINGRAY 2018', was sitting at a table that was near Mr. Krabs' chair. He turned towards Mr. Krabs.
"Who're you voting for?" he said.
"Who do you reckon?" said Mr. Krabs.
The male fish grinned and tipped his hat.
Mr. Krabs did a 'thumbs-up'.
SpongeBob poked his head through the ordering window. He glanced around.
Mr. Krabs got out of his seat and poked SpongeBob with his elbow.
"Mr. SquarePants, I think I've found one of th' smartest lads that has ever walked through these doors." He pointed at the male fish.
The male fish tipped his hat again.
"Isn't he the new guy?" he said.
After seeing the word on the male fish's cap, SpongeBob's lips quivered.
"Umm..." The endless political debates he had seen on TV replayed in his head until he could no longer tell who supported what.
"Oh, come on!" Mr. Krabs put his claws on his hips. "Why be so indecisive? Don't you wants to do yer captain a favor?" He pulled SpongeBob by the collar and whispered behind a claw: "If you vote for Stingray, I'll boost yer paycheck by two bucks for a whole month."
Squidward overheard Mr. Krabs's words.
"Isn't that illegal?" he said.
"Upupup!" Mr. Krabs took out his wallet and waved it towards Squidward. "I can make you a part-timer if I want to."
SpongeBob gently released Mr. Krabs' claw from his collar and sat on the ordering window's sill.
"I always have trouble when it comes to picking somebody." He was tapping his index fingers together. "It's not something I'm good at."
"It's not that hard," said Mr. Krabs. "Just vote whoever helps th' job-makers." He pointed at himself with both claws and repeatedly raised his eyebrows. "If I'm happy, the rest of the crew is happy."
Squidward rolled his eyes.
The rattle of a few papers being passed to Johnny Erain's desk could be heard from the TVs.
Johnny Erain picked up the papers and widened his eyes.
"Breaking news!"
The program's music changed as Johnny Erain faced the camera screen.
"A violent Category 3 typhoon is heading its way towards the Micronesian republic of the Oceanic Union. Forecasters have predicted that intense flooding will ravage the lower-lying regions, especially Bikini Bottom, Rock Bottom, and New Kelp City. Government officials have warned citizens in these areas to set up barriers in homes, stock up on food and other necessities, and to stay on the highest ground you can find until the flood recedes."
Mr. Krabs glanced at the large windows' sills. He exhaled.
"Looks like the warm season's comin' early."
Squidward groaned and rested a chin on his hand.
"Y'know what that means..." he droned.
"What means?" SpongeBob raised a brow. He scrutinized the horizon with a hand above his eyes but could not perceive anything resembling a storm cloud.
"Oh, right." Mr. Krabs folded his claws together. "This is gonna be your first time battenin' the deck."
"How're we gonna do that?" said SpongeBob.
Mr. Krabs pointed at the large windows.
"Tomorrow, we're goin' to fill up this whole place with as many pillows as we can get. Outside too."
"Ooh~" SpongeBob rubbed his hands together. "Sounds like fun." He hopped to the floor. "Can it be a game between me and Squid?"
Mr. Krabs walked up to SpongeBob and shook his head.
"This is no game. If that flood breaks those windows and gets into me restaurant, I'll have to pay over thousands of dollars in repairs. It'll set back profits by more than a month. You have to take this seriously. We're all goin' to prep this ship as a crew."
"Yes, sir!" SpongeBob did a military salute.
"...with further allegations being proven to be false. In other news, Bikini Bottom's annual Olympeia parade has been delayed by a few days due to the typhoon, casting it much closer to the actual holiday. Authorities have also warned that several groups of animals, including nematodes, could enter populated areas by getting swept by the flood. If you happen to find such animals in your home, please contact your local animal control."
SpongeBob sighed. His gaze fell to the floor.
"I hope the floats don't get ruined..." he said quietly.
Mr. Krabs watched the sky to see if any scallops were going to pass by.
'I hope me offerings from the last Mercuria weren't in vain.' He swallowed his lips.
S-S-S-S-S
A few hours later...
S-S-S-S-S
SpongeBob and Patrick, from the top of the pineapple, were watching the heavier clouds overtaking the darkening sky. They had put their red cup-shaped hats back on.
Patrick perceived that one of the clouds looked like the foam of a wave.
"Y'know, Sponge, which one of our houses are gonna go first?"
SpongeBob held his tongue between his teeth before speaking.
"Maybe it'll be yours, Pat. The goo'll slip right through the little slit on the rock's bottom."
"Can I stay at your place then?"
"I'll always let you." SpongeBob lifted his upper body with his elbows. "Didn't you remember the last few typhoons?"
"Nope."
A breeze entered one of SpongeBob's holes, causing a chilly internal sensation to spread throughout his head.
"I don't think Squid's house is get by without a few scraps either." SpongeBob's head dropped back to the roof. "But then again, he always goes to his parents' house when stuff like that happens."
A pause.
SpongeBob's mouth moved side to side as he vainly attempted to wrangle words out of his mind.
Patrick stared at the sky with a blank face, zoning out from the cloud's movements. After a seemingly endless amount of time in mental silence, he managed to say:
"I don't think being nice to Squid's gonna make us good neighbors. I think the gods want us to do more than that."
SpongeBob sat up and crossed his legs.
"Go on," he said softly.
Patrick put his hands behind his head.
"Y'know how, in those stories that magical guy tells us, the people the gods visit always treat them nice in their homes? They always make the gods comfortable in some way. If the people don't, something bad happens. If Squid's ever gonna visit us, we gotta make sure to treat him right."
"Like a second home?"
"Mm-hm."
SpongeBob adjusted his hat.
Another pause.
SpongeBob looked at a space between the roof's leaves. He gradually perceived through the tiki's window that Squidward was gripping his throat and running up and down the living room.
"Something's wrong with Squid!" He ran to the leaves and attempted to push them back but failed. "A-A little help here."
Patrick stood up, rubbed his hands together, and charged towards the leaves with both arms outstretched.
S-S-S-S-S
Squidward was pacing up and down near the living room's window. He was holding the shell-phone to his ear.
"Why can't I stay at your place? I thought the house had been spiced up a few months ago."
"It was too spiced up." Squidward's mother was on the other end. "All those renovations ended up ruining the pipes. What you gotta understand, Squiddy, is that the house is too dangerous for us to have it as a shelter. As a matter of fact, me and your dad are gonna be camping out at the stadium."
Childhood sensations of being cramped with hundreds of bodies and the headache-inducing sounds of non-stop chatter returned to Squidward's mind.
"B-But..." He held the phone with two hands. "There's no way I'm going again. I almost died of heat exhaustion back there."
"You're just gonna have to find some other person's house. I'm sorry." His mother's voice grew quieter. "May Neptune bless you, Squiddy." After the sound of a light tap, beeps were heard.
Squidward put down the shell-phone with furrowed brows and closed eyes. Upon opening his eyes and perceiving through the window that his neighbors were watching him from the pineapple's leaves, he sighed.
S-S-S-S-S
Patrick's cheeks were gathering air.
"What's happening?" Due to his body leaning awkwardly forward, he was struggling to keep the leaves pulled back.
SpongeBob, while squinting, had been precisely reading Squidward's lips.
"He was talking to somebody on the phone." He stepped back. "It seems like he's not gonna stay with his parents this time. He has to crash somewhere else."
Patrick fell to the roof back-first.
"How did you learn to do that?"
"If you've been doing ballet for as long as I've done it, you gotta know what the director's saying mid-dance." SpongeBob blushed faintly.
"So~" Patrick turned his eyes back to the sky. "What're we supposed to do now?"
SpongeBob snapped his fingers.
"He can stay at my place."
Patrick took hold of his hat's tassel and twirled it like a yo-yo.
"So how do we treat him... neighborly?"
"We'll make my house look like Squid's!"
"I like that." Patrick pointed at SpongeBob.
SpongeBob jogged to the trapdoor and opened it.
"We'll get the materials the next morning an set everything up after work." He climbed down until only his head remained outside. "Is that okay?"
"Yup." Patrick stood up again and burped.
S-S-S-S-S
The next day...
S-S-S-S-S
The morning sun had been blocked out by a few layers of clouds. The winds had grown stronger than yesterday's, with the occasional gust peeling some plants from their roots.
A few trucks were parked outside SpongeBob's pineapple.
Groups of workers were bringing tiki-like sculptures, buckets of paint, and various other objects into the pineapple. Some construction workers were hammering indestructible wood into a multi-layered barrier surrounding the pineapple. A few of them were also filling the barrier's empty spaces with sand bags.
The noise of their work and the could be heard from the tiki.
Squidward, who had stopped playing his clarinet in the middle of a composition, was watching the construction workers move in and out of the pineapple.
"What's going on? Why're they bringing all this stuff?" He perceived that one group was bringing in blue-cushioned furniture that looked identical to his own. He cocked a brow. "Why in the world would he need that?"
S-S-S-S-S
Many hours later...
S-S-S-S-S
The clouds were such a dark grey that they had become almost indistinguishable from the evening sky. The winds had intensified, causing several tumbleweeds to roll across the plains and the scallops to lose their course.
KA-BOOMMmMmMMCRKKCRACKLE
Thunder could be occasionally heard.
Squidward was driving down the street towards his neighborhood. His arms were limply hanging on to the steering wheel.
Sitting next to him was SpongeBob. His arms were sore and slightly jacked. He was holding on to the red hat, which he had put on the moment he had stepped out of the Krusty Krab.
"I guess I overestimated how much work putting in those sandbags was gonna be. The workers I hired made it look easy."
"Why couldn't he hire some of those workers to help us out?" said Squidward. "They would've done a better job anyway, and we would've gotten home earlier too."
"But I saw you calling those guys to put all your stuff into storage." SpongeBob shrugged. "You don't really need any more time to prep."
Squidward shook his head.
"Free time is the only thing I look forward to other than the lunch break. Don't you enjoy anything else besides working?" He snickered while maneuvering his car past a few road bumps. "You're the first guy I've ever seen who actually likes going to work."
SpongeBob reclined his seat. He inhaled the fresh air the breeze was bringing in.
"There's a bunch of people like us. The only thing different between me and you is that
I never gave up on my dream."
Squidward grumbled and stuffed his employee hat into his shirt pocket.
"I've never given up my dream either." He exhaled. His posture became more bent. "I just haven't got noticed yet."
"But what about that rich guy that gave us the tickets?" SpongeBob sat up. "He really liked the talent show you directed."
"You mean your talent show." Squidward rested his head on a hand. "I didn't make the best contribution, you did. The only reason that guy was impressed was because he thought I performed bad on purpose. By stealing my spotlight, you actually saved the show."
SpongeBob swallowed his lips.
The roofs of their neighborhood's houses began to rise from the horizon.
Upon seeing a pack of feral worms slithering while huddled together, a recent memory returned to SpongeBob's consciousness.
"You wanna st-stay at my place? You can leave when the flood stops."
Squidward sighed.
"Fine."
SpongeBob began to twiddle his red tie.
"Did they finish emptying out your house?"
Squidward nodded.
S-S-S-S-S
Several minutes later...
S-S-S-S-S
Squidward's boatmobile gradually stopped before the pineapple.
Squidward looked up, realizing how high the pineapple's barrier was.
"Where the Hades am I gonna leave the car? There's no way I'm gonna let it get washed away. This thing costs Neptune knows what to maintain."
"Don't worry 'bout that." SpongeBob took out a tiny remote. He pressed its big orange button.
The part of the barrier near the pineapple's rear lifted open.
"Just drive to the back," said SpongeBob. "I'll open the garage door myself."
S-S-S-S-S
A few minutes later...
S-S-S-S-S
The front door closed.
Squidward and SpongeBob were now inside the living room.
Squidward dropped his jaw. For nearly a minute, he felt like he was in a state between his dream realm and reality.
Surrounding him was a nearly exact replica of the tiki's living room. The blue-cushioned furniture had been placed in the same positions. The wallpaper patterns on the walls were identical to his tiki's. Throughout the pineapple, tiki faces were hanging on the walls and tiki sculptures were lying near the rooms' corners; imitating how he had placed his self-portraits and other artwork.
Squidward blanched.
"Wh-Wh-Why?!" He took a step back and put his hands on his hips.
"We're just trying to make you comfortable." Patrick was sitting on the couch while watching TV and eating salted plantain chips. His cup-shaped hat was leaning towards one side.
Squidward crossed his arms and pressed his back against the wall.
"This isn't making me comfortable! It's creepy!"
"But we're just trying to be good neighbors." SpongeBob held up his hands.
"How the Hades is stalking me considered to be good 'neighborly' conduct? That could land you in jail!" Squidward moved towards the front door.
"We didn't stalk you." SpongeBob put his hands behind his back. He took a few steps away from Squidward, taking care to leave enough space. "I knew everything by heart."
"I didn't know you had photographic memory." Squidward raised a brow. He watched SpongeBob's face for any slight fidget.
"I'm serious." SpongeBob took a few side-steps towards the kitchen. "After annoying you alotta times, I learned how your home was laid out." He poked his forehead. "If something in the past is related to a certain emotion, I'll remember it very clearly. My brain kinda works like that."
Squidward allowed his rear to fall to the floor. His eyes were still widened.
Patrick patted one side of the couch.
"Don't sweat it, Squid. We got your back." He gobbled up the chips remaining in the bag. "We'll protect you from anything the storm throws at us."
S-S-S-S-S
Several minutes later...
S-S-S-S-S
SpongeBob returned to the living room. He was holding three dishes of souffle with his hands and the top of his head. Each dish had a fork. He bowed towards Patrick.
Patrick took the dish on top of SpongeBob's head.
"Here you go." SpongeBob held out the dish on his left hand towards Squidward.
Squidward sniffed the souffle and, with his fork, poked it a few times.
"This is a little different than how I usually make it. Is this a different recipe?"
SpongeBob sat on the red chair.
"My memory isn't perfect."
Squidward tasted the few souffle crumbs on the fork. He shrugged. As he ate more and more of the souffle, its taste gradually filled his mouth.
"Wow... this is actually... kinda good."
"You like it?!" SpongeBob hopped to a stand, startling Squidward.
Patrick stabbed his fork into his souffle and then pulled it up, lifting the entire souffle. He then moved the souffle towards his mouth.
Plop
The souffle broke from the fork and landed on the floor.
"Darn." Patrick banged his plate with his fist.
"I'll get more." SpongeBob gently placed his own dish on the red chair and tip-toed into the kitchen.
Patrick, after glancing at the kitchen's entrance from the corner of his eye, grabbed SpongeBob's dish and swallowed the whole souffle piece in one gulp.
KA-BOOMMMCCRRRACCKLE
RRRUMMMMCRKCRCKLE
A few bouts of thunder erupted from the sky.
The living room vibrated.
SpongeBob's plate slipped out of Patrick's hands.
SHATTER
The plate broke into pieces that scattered across the floor.
SpongeBob's head leaned out of the kitchen's entrance.
"What happen-" He saw the plate fragments on the floor and gasped. "The storm's getting too strong." He stepped into the room. "We can't stay here for too long. If the flood gets through the barrier, it'll be coming to his floor first."
Patrick unplugged the TV, lifted it, and hauled it towards the kitchen. "Let's go to your bedroom then."
SpongeBob did a thumbs-up.
Clink
Squidward pushed his fork without looking below, but only felt the plate's hard surface.
His plate was entirely clean.
"Can I have seconds?" Squidward stood up while holding his plate.
SpongeBob nodded.
"Coming right up." He dashed back into the kitchen.
S-S-S-S-S
Several minutes later…
S-S-S-S-S
The TV had been placed near the bedroom's window. It had been connected to a series of adapters that extended all the way to a power strip in the library. The news channel was currently on.
Patrick, with Gary lying on his lap, was watching the TV while leaning against the bed.
SpongeBob was sitting on the bed.
Squidward was sitting on the side of the room farthest from the window.
The shell-phone was connected to a plug in the bedroom.
RING RING RING RING RING RING RING
SpongeBob hopped to the phone and picked it up.
"Yes?"
"Mr. SquarePants?" droned Mr. Krabs.
"Mm-hm. You're speaking to him.".
"Do not come to work tomorrow. Yer getting a day off because of this nasty gale. Please spread the news to Mr. Squidward." Beeps were then heard.
SpongeBob slowly put down his shell-phone. A sheen of moisture was now covering his eyes. For almost a minute, he remained silent.
"What's wrong?" said Patrick.
SpongeBob slowly turned around.
"Me and Squid aren't going to work tomorrow."
Squidward laid his back on the floor.
"Finally, some positive news for once." He put his hands behind his head. "Sponge, you should learn to take breaks." He closed his eyes. The howls of the wind brought his mind into a meditative state. "It'll be good for my- I mean your health."
SpongeBob pouted. He sat on the bed with folded arms.
Johnny Erain was standing in an impromptu studio. The lighting and camerawork was poor.
"We have received reports that fights and riots have been breaking out between the Numan and Mysterian sects of the Olympian faith. The rift has even reached the temples themselves, where flamens and hierophants have allegedly been slandering each other through their sermons. To understand why this infighting has been occurring, let's turn to a Numan who was an eyewitness to a riot."
The screen cut to show a male shrimp wearing a t-shirt inside out and a medallion of borromean rings. Only his first name was shown in the textbox on the lower portion of the screen.
"I'll tell you what." He raised a 'finger'. "We've never been all buddy buddy with the Mystery folk." He pointed at himself with his thumb. "We were the first Olympians to come to this country. It's the Mysterians who are the outsiders, not us. Before they came along, everything was peaceful. After they butt their heads in, they've been persecuting us ever since."
The screen cut back to Johnny Erain.
"As you can see, the discord between the two sects of our country's largest religion has lasted ever since they first encountered each other. What makes the situation more alarming is that the Oceanic Pontifex and the Oceanic High Hierophant have not fully denounced the actions of their sects, although they have stated through social media that the actions of the laymen and the clergy were counterproductive."
RRRRRUUUUUMMMMMMMMBBBBLLLE
A strong gust blew through the pineapple, causing the TV's screen to flicker for a few seconds.
Patrick sucked his teeth.
SpongeBob tip-toed to the window.
The powerful winds were beginning to pick up sand and pebbles. A few showers interspersed.
SpongeBob bit his lip.
"Pat, I think we're gonna have to bring up more than the TV."
Patrick put Gary on the floor, stood up, and flexed his arms.
"I gotcha." He put his fists on his hips. "What do you need?"
S-S-S-S-S
A few minutes later…
S-S-S-S-S
SLAM
Patrick dropped the stove to the library's floor. It was connected by a series of adapters to another plug in the same room.
Squidward was standing before the library's opened door.
"Isn't that dangerous?" He pointed at the various shelves. "All of the shelves are made out of wood. If one of them catches fire, the whole house'll burn down. It'll put us at the mercy of the storm."
SpongeBob was holding a laundry bag full of supplies.
"With this thing here…" He took out a spraying can filled with a certain liquid. He twirled it on his index finger. "It won't happen." He then sprayed the entire library with the liquid.
"Is it anti-inflammable?" said Squidward.
"Yup." SpongeBob tossed the can back into the bag. "I bought it this morning."
RRUMCRCKRCRCK
Lightning flashed above the window in the ceiling.
The lights went out for a few seconds.
SpongeBob glanced at his watch. It was 8:23 PM. He took out a power generator from the bag and connected it to all of the power strips.
"You guys better get ready to go to sleep. The lights aren't gonna last for much longer."
S-S-S-S-S
Thirty minutes later…
S-S-S-S-S
SpongeBob was wearing his pajamas. He was moving the light purple blanket up and down, pushing the dust off the bed.
Next to both sides of the bed, on mini-tables, were the type of lamps that had been used in the tiki's bedroom.
"C'mon, Squid. I'm leaving this all for you tonight." SpongeBob tapped the mattress, which now had two layers.
Squidward was standing near one corner of the room. He shook his head. Without even looking at SpongeBob's figure; he laid on the floor, curled into a fetal position, and closed his eyes.
"You can keep it."
SpongeBob began to tap the bed like a drum.
"No, you take it." He stepped to the laundry bag, which was now in the bedroom, and took out a sleeping bag. "I tidied up the bed just for you."
Squidward turned his body. His back now faced SpongeBob. Within the darkness of his closed eyelids, he cringed at the image of himself sitting on a throne carried by SpongeBob.
"Just sleep on it. I don't care," he droned.
SpongeBob glanced at Squidward's limbs, perceiving that they were becoming tenser.
"Why don't you want it?" He folded the blanket in half. "It's way more comfy than the floor. If the heater goes out, you might catch a cold."
"Don't you have another sleeping bag?" said Squidward.
"Nope." Patrick tucked into his sleeping bag.
Squidward shrugged.
"Oh well."
SpongeBob sighed.
"I'll just leave it alone in case you change your mind." He placed his sleeping bag next to Gary. He slipped into it, closed his eyes, and constrained his body into being still.
A pause.
Squidward turned towards the ceiling. He glanced at the cabinets of blue wood and the tiki faces. He gulped back a heaviness growing in his throat.
'I don't deserve all of this.'
S-S-S-S-S
Ten minutes later…
S-S-S-S-S
The ticking of the foghorn.
The snores of Gary.
The patter of the rain against the bedroom's window.
RRRUMMMMCRCKRCRCK
Another round of thunder.
HOOOOOOWWWWL
A gust pushed against the pineapple's leaves, causing them to tap the library's window.
Patrick was beginning to sweat from the heat trapped in his sleeping bag. He sat up and tossed the sleeping bag towards elsewhere.
"I can't sleep."
"Me neither." SpongeBob kicked away his sleeping bag. He hugged his knees. "You wanna talk it out for a while?"
"'kay."
"We gotta be quiet though," whispered SpongeBob. He glanced at Squidward and Gary before dragging himself with his legs towards Patrick.
"Roger," whispered Patrick.
SpongeBob fiddled his thumbs.
A pause.
The patter of the rain intensified.
Patrick's stomach grumbled.
"Hungry?" said SpongeBob.
Patrick nodded. He slouched against a cabinet. The aftertaste of rocky road ice cream was still in his mouth.
"Hot cocoa…" He scratched his head. "...please."
SpongeBob did a thumbs-up. He took wide tip-toes to the library's door.
S-S-S-S-S
Several minutes later…
S-S-S-S-S
SpongeBob placed a cup of warm chocolate milk before Patrick's legs. He then sat down on the floor, placing the third cup of milk to his right. He took a few sparse sips from his own cup.
"You're not doing it right," said Patrick.
SpongeBob leaned his head towards one side.
"You're supposed to do it like this." Patrick held the cup with only his 'thumb' and 'index finger' encircling the handle. He closed his eyes and raised his brows. "Like a gentleman." He raised the cup in a silent toast to the gods before taking a sip.
SpongeBob winked. He proceeded to drink his milk in the same manner.
The milk's aroma wafted throughout the room.
Squidward and Gary opened their eyes.
Gary slithered to the cup of milk lying on the floor. "Meow."
"Mm-mm." SpongeBob shook his head. He placed that cup on the space within his crossed legs. "This one's for Squid."
"Meow meow."
"No, I'm saving this for Squid and that is final." SpongeBob adjusted his hat's tassel. "Even if he doesn't want it, I still can't give it to you anyway since the ingredients aren't 'snail-proofed'." Flashbacks of Gary vomiting on the floor passed through his mind. His lips puckered. "And we all know what happened the last time you ate something like that."
"Meow~" Gary's eyestalks became almost half-closed and lowered, indicating irritation.
Squidward slowly sat up. He wiped his eyes.
"You want some?" SpongeBob held out the cup of milk towards Squidward. "I've made this one just for you."
Squidward, from the faint light coming from the electric generator, saw a sheen of moisture in SpongeBob's eyes. He sighed.
'If I'm gonna be stuck with them for a whole day, I might as well give in a little.' He slowly nodded.
SpongeBob grinned, took a wide step towards Squidward, and carefully placed the cup in Squidward's hands.
Squidward slowly sipped the warm chocolate milk. His mouth became filled with a creamy texture that spread sweetness and a bit of bitterness. He temporarily forgot the thoughts and memories that had been troubling him.
"What did you use to make this?" he said.
"Dark chocolate." SpongeBob sat down next to Patrick. He folded his hands together near his chest.
"Dark chocolate?" Patrick stopped drinking his cup. "Why can't you use some other chocolate?" He spat the remaining milk in his mouth back to the cup. He then put the cup in SpongeBob's hands and folded his arms. "I don't like it."
SpongeBob shrugged.
"There isn't any other chocolate available in my home. The other chocolate flavors are usually sold out in Barg'N-Mart anyway."
"Give it to Gary then." Patrick slid down the library's slide. "I'm sure he'll want it." He walked up to the bag and began to dig through it.
Gary's eyestalks leaned towards Patrick's cup.
"Meow."
SpongeBob's mouth leaned towards one side. He shook his head.
S-S-S-S-S
Sixteen minutes later...
S-S-S-S-S
"Ooh~!" Patrick unearthed a rectangular box containing a board game. "Eels and escalators!"
SpongeBob hopped to his feet and clapped.
"Bring it over!"
Patrick stomped his way up the slide and dropped the box before SpongeBob. He then opened the box and began to set up the board and the escalators.
"You should go up against Gary this time." SpongeBob looked at Gary, gestured towards the red piece, and put the red piece on the 'START' tile. "He's a whiz at this game."
Gary slithered to the board. He faced Patrick.
"No problemo." Patrick put the white piece on the 'START' tile. "The game would be unfair though. He's just a pet."
"Oh no no no." SpongeBob wagged a finger. "You shouldn't underestimate him. He's beaten me almost every time we've played together. Snails are just as smart as sentient animals like us."
"We'll see." Patrick cracked his knuckles.
S-S-S-S-S
Twenty minutes later...
S-S-S-S-S
The red piece was on the 'FINISH' tile. Gary had beaten Patrick five times in a row.
"Darn it!" Patrick flipped the board over, crossed his arms, and turned around.
SpongeBob wore a smile. He carefully returned the board and pieces to the box.
"Maybe we should try something less competitive." He tip-toed down the slide and towards the bag.
Squidward was watching his tiki from the window.
Torrents of rain were falling to the earth. A flood had risen from Goo Lagoon, and it had reached their neighborhood.
As he watched the waters fill the lowest floor of his own tiki; he imagined his own body, all of his self-portraits, and any other symbols of his previous life getting washed away.
SpongeBob took wide tip-toes to the window and peeked below Squidward.
"Wow, Pat, look at this."
Squidward stepped out of the way.
Patrick stomped to the window. His heartbeat slowed. As he gazed at the swirling clouds, the foam on the waves of the flood, and the debris the wind was carrying; his scowl gradually disappeared.
"It's like that story."
"What story?" said SpongeBob.
"The one with…" Patrick scratched his head. "Pie er... Peera-"
"Pyrrha and Deucalion?" SpongeBob stood on tip-toe.
"Yeah." Patrick pushed his cheek against the window's cold surface. The thought of opening the window and breathing in the powerful winds passed by. "It's like Jupiter's remaking the world."
"We would have to die though." SpongeBob bit his lip.
"I don't think he's doing it again," said Patrick. "It just looks like it."
KA-BOOMCRAACRKLE
A flash of lightning hit the ground a few miles away from the neighborhood.
Whirrrrrrr
The lights not connected to the generator returned to life.
The TV was still turned on. It showed a male octopus with brown hair and a blue business suit. He was standing before a green screen showing a dilapidated cityscape filled with smoke and fire.
"Hi there! Is this the final straw? Do you want to move so far away that you can brag about it?"
Squidward slowly turned towards the TV. With widened eyes, he sat criss-crossed before it.
Patrick's eyes became half-closed.
"Would you rather tear out your brainstem, walk out into the middle of the nearest four-way intersection, and skip rope with it, than continue living where you do now?"
Squidward's thoughts of the flood began to circle around the image of the flood both taking away and bringing back sediment. A light bulb began to light up in his head.
"I hate this channel." Patrick took hold of the remote.
"Then move to-"
The screen cut to a commercial of a bacon restaurant. With smooth jazz music in the background, it showcased the various special meals the restaurant was going to offer next week.
"No! No!" Squidward snatched the remote and switched back to the previous channel.
"Tentacle Acres!" The screen changed to show a suburban landscape filled with identical tikis aligned symmetrically on blocks that were all the same size. Most of the pedestrians were octopuses.
"Why does everything look samish?" Patrick plopped to the floor. He rubbed his eyes. "It looks like one of those toy kits."
When the commercial ended, Squidward stood up. The light bulb in his head had fully lit up. He glanced at the window.
The flood had risen by a foot.
'Maybe I should start over.' Squidward laid his back on the floor, in the corner of the room furthest away from the bed. He closed his eyes.
FLICK
The lights not connected to the generator turned off.
S-S-S-S-S
A group of nematodes were floating on the floodwaters, getting swept by debris towards SpongeBob's neighborhood.
"Swimming, swimming, swimming," they said in high-pitched voices.
The nematodes collided to the pineapple's exterior wall. They then sniffed and licked the wall.
"Hungry, hungry, hungry."
S-S-S-S-S
Forty minutes later…
S-S-S-S-S
The barrier surrounding the pineapple had broken.
Floodwater was pushing through the holes.
S-S-S-S-S
The front door was open. The first floor was flooded. However, it was devoid of furniture.
S-S-S-S-S
Chilly vapors were seeping into the bedroom.
The furniture from the living room had been placed in the bedroom. Many drops of water were running down their surfaces.
Squidward was on the floor, wrapped tightly with the blanket that had been given to him. As various thoughts wandered to others in his mind, he stumbled upon the image of the lighter magic paper flying against the stormy winds like a kite.
He opened his eyes and sat up.
'Did I put the magic paper in storage?' He tip-toed widely to the window. Upon perceiving that the flood had reached to nearly half of the pineapple's height, a rapid succession of memories flashed by. 'I didn't...' He took a deep breath. He returned to his blanket, wrapped it around himself again, and closed his eyes.
His lips curved.
S-S-S-S-S
Thirty minutes later...
S-S-S-S-S
SpongeBob, Patrick, and Gary were huddled together with a blanket wrapped around themselves. They were exhaling mists and shivering.
Patrick was gazing at Squidward's blanket. His mind was replaying the various fairytailes his kindergarten teacher had told him.
"Hey, Sponge."
"Yeah?" said SpongeBob.
"You think the magic paper can make this storm disappear?" Patrick looked at the ceiling, watching a water drop forming above him.
SpongeBob shrugged.
"You think it would've made the fog go away?" he said.
Squidward slowly opened his bloodshot eyes.
"You think that paper would've cured you of the suds or gotten me out of that wheelchair?" he muttered.
SpongeBob wore a smile. He dug his body further into the blanket.
"The thing is, the magic paper wasn't as strong as you guys think it is. We did try to use the paper when you fell down that chasm but it didn't heal you fully. Unless we get more than one, I guess the paper's magic has some limits."
Patrick scratched the back of his head. Another train of thoughts entered his head. The gears in his brain were breaking his darkness-induced stupor.
"Why did the fog disappear when those masked people went away?" He raised an 'index finger'. "It can't be a coincidence."
Squidward curled his body back to its previous position, wrapped the blanket over his head, and covered his ears as SpongeBob and Patrick continued their debate.
S-S-S-S-S
A few minutes alter…
S-S-S-S-S
SpongeBob and Patrick were sitting on the floor with blank faces. A minute ago, they had ran out of topics to talk about.
Squidward and Gary had resumed their sleep. Their snoring seemed quiet compared to the storm's noises.
Patrick's stomach grumbled again.
A gust of wind that had pushed through the pineapple's opened entrance reached the bedroom.
SPLASH
A drop of water touched the upper stairs.
The wind entered SpongeBob's holes. Coldness bit his bones.
Squidward's limbs fidgeted but he did not wake up.
A light bulb lit up in SpongeBob's head.
"I almost forgot…" He nudged Patrick, quietly leaped over the bed, and slid down the slide.
S-S-S-S-S
Several minutes later…
S-S-S-S-S
SpongeBob was standing just within the entrance of the hallway that led to the workout room. A small level of water was at the hallway's end. With the light of a battery-powered electric lattern to is right, SpongeBob was gazing at his reflection on a mirror. He was wearing a maid outfit of black cloth and white frills. The outfit's headset had been put over the red hat. As he glanced at each part of the clothing, a delicate warmness that had been sealed into his heart gradually spread over his face. The lattern light highltighted his sparkling blue pupils. His hands were clasped together near the skirt.
"This feels… natural."
CLANK
Patrick set the refridgerator inside the library, near the power generator.
"Is this what you wanted?"
SpongeBob twirled towards Patrick and curtsied.
"Indeed," he said in a posh accent.
"SpongeBob?"
SpongeBob giggled with a hand over his mouth.
"Remember that outfit I bought earlier? When we were shopping for emergency stuff?"
"Yeah but…" Patrick scratched his belly. "Why would you need that? It looks kinda silly."
SpongeBob put his hands on his hips.
"It's all about making Squidward comfortable, and this is my way of doing it." He took hold of his skirt with one hand. "Y'know those servants you always see in the movies? There always taking care of people. That's why I wanted this. These clothes bring out a sense of safety."
"Why can't you were a nurse outfit then?" said Patrick. "I'll be the doctor."
SpongeBob shook his head.
"It wouldn't be the same. We aren't curing him of anything." He walked to the bag and took out a large pot. "Can you pass me a gallon of water and some lemons?"
Patrick connected the refridgerator's plug to a power strip. He then opened the refridgerator. Upon feeling the fridge's cold air, he experienced a brain fart.
"What am I getting?"
SpongeBob saw the water gallon, which was a few inches away from him.
"Just get the lemons." He opened it and poured the water into the pot.
Patrick took a lemon and held it out to SpongeBob.
"This one?"
"It's gotta have an even number of seeds. That's what Squid likes," said SpongeBob.
Patrick placed the lemon on the floor, took a nearby knife, and swung the knife towards the lemon like a sword.
SLICE
An even-numbered amount of seeds popped from the lemon halves to the floor.
SpongeBob took the lemon halves and squeezed their juice into the basin.
"Keep bringing more."
Patrick retrieved an armful of lemons from the fridge. In rapid succession, he chopped them with the knife.
Numerous seeds fell to the floor.
"Hold on…" SpongeBob stood up. "I think it's supposed to be lemons with odd-numbered seeds, not even." He glanced at the seeds, unable to discern which seed came from which lemon. "Can you throw all that away just to be safe?" He picked up the pot. "And pour this to the storm too."
Patrick grumbled. He picked up each lemon one at a time.
S-S-S-S-S
Nine minutes later…
S-S-S-S-S
The library's floor was entirely free from the lemon slices, their juice, and their seeds.
SpongeBob had placed a jar of lemonade to the side. He was boiling a pot of water on a stove.
Patrick walked up to him. A few drops of sweat were running down his forehead. He was holding a can of soup.
KA-BOOM-CRKCRKCRCKLE
Several lightning bolts flashed.
Patrick's heartbeat quickened. He looked at the ceiling's window and perceived that the debris were getting clumped together into what looked like torn limbs. Several gruesome images filled his thoughts. He grimaced.
SpongeBob bit his lip.
"I don't think he likes canned soup. I remember him saying one time that it was too condensed." His grip on the laddle weakened. "Can you get the powdered one?"
CLUNK
Patrick threw the can to the floor. With his back facing SpongeBob, he stomped to a corner of the room.
SpongeBob stuffed the laddle into one of his outfit's pockets. "What's gotten into you?" He put his hands on his hips. "You've been getting real rude lately." He pointed at Patrick. "You ate Squid's piece of cake."
"How did you know?"
SpongeBob ignored Patrick's comment.
"...looked down on Gary before even playing with him, telling me you didn't like the hot cocoa even though you wanted it in the first place… Why?"
Patrick sat down and looked up at the ceiling
SpongeBob's frown slowly mellowed into a neutral expression as he listened to the rain and the clanging of the debris.
CLINK
The metal rod of a street sign hit the pineapple.
Several books on one side of the library fell to the floor.
Patrick fidgeted. His head bent downward.
SpongeBob tip-toed to Patrick, crouched, and put a hand on his shoulder.
Patrick shuddered and moved away from SpongeBob's hand.
"Is the storm ruining your mood?" whispered SpongeBob.
Patrick swallowed his lips.
A pause.
SpongeBob tip-toed back to the stove and turned it off.
"It's Sam..." said Patrick.
"Sad?"
"Sam."
SpongeBob tip-toed back to Patrick. "What do you mean?"
"You saw her when you were a kid, right?"
"Mm-hm." SpongeBob nodded. "I don't remember much though. The last time I saw her was when I was six. You told me she disappeared 'cause somebody kidnapped her."
"That wasn't what actually happened." Patrick sighed. "I lied to you."
S-S-S-S-S
Furiously winds and endless amounts of rain were tearing through the neighborhood Patrick had lived as a child.
The rooftop of the house of Patrick's parents had been ripped open. Furniture was getting picked up by the wind while debris nearly as plentiful as the rain was gathering on the floor.
Patrick was holding on to his sister, who was more than a decade older than him. His eyes were shut, his teeth were grit, and veins appeared on his muscles as he struggled to pull back his older sister's immense weight against the invisible force that powered the storm.
"S-Sam... I don't think I can hold on for much longer."
The wind began to pull his feet towards one of the room's walls.
"If this keeps up... my m-muscles are gonna break."
Sam was wearing a green shirt that could not fit her and a green skirt, and was more obese than Patrick. Her black hair had lost its pigtails and was fluttering against the wind.
"Just call Ma and Pa! They'll help us!" She was attempting to lean towards Patrick, but the wind squashed her efforts.
Patrick took in a haggard breath.
"Ma! Pa!" he said.
Thunderous footsteps were coming from downstairs.
KA-BOOMCRRKCRRKLE
Several flashes of lightning surrounded the home.
Patrick's grip began to falter. The trembling of his arms intensified.
A large chunk of wooden planks that was beginning to burn from the lightning flew across the room.
SLAM
The wooden planks collided into Sam, pushing her out of Patrick's hands. The wind then carried her through the rainy mist surrounding the neighborhood, pushing her out of sight.
Patrick fell to his knees. With both hands covering his face, he began to sob.
Patrick's father and mother walked up through the stairs into the bedroom. They widened their eyes.
S-S-S-S-S
"That's why I'm so stupid." Patrick knocked his forehead with a fist. "I let a piece of wood decide the fate of my sister."
SpongeBob slowly shook his head.
"That's not true." He began to massage Patrick's shoulders. "You were just a kid. You weren't at your max strength yet."
"No!" Patrick pushed SpongeBob's hands away and stood up. His eyes were becoming bloodshot from the tears welling in them. "It was my fault! I was one of the strongest kids in second grade. I was totally capable of bringing Sam back to the floor. I was just too much of a coward to do it."
SpongeBob shook his head again.
"Pat, you tried your best." He put his hands behind his back. "In your story, you said your arm muscles were getting so tired that you couldn't feel them anymore, right? You don't have to push yourself so hard. At the end of the day, it's ultimately the Fates who are in charge of your destiny. There was nothing else you couldn't do."
"I don't believe in that garbage!" Patrick kicked several metal cups across the floor, causing a few more books to fall down.
"You don't...?" SpongeBob's lips began to quiver. "I thought you were a believer like I am."
"My parents were never Olympians, my grandparents were never Olympians, so I'm not Olympian either!" Patrick pointed at himself. "As a matter of fact, my mama said that there's no such thing as fate. It's not the gods who really decide our lives, but ourselves. And I chose to be a terrible brother."
"Then, what do you b-believe in?"
S-S-S-S-S
Squidward was lying on the floor with his eyes wide open. He had overheard SpongeBob and Patrick's entire conversation. Several variations of a single event had been endlessly replayed by his thoughts until they all converged into one imagined outcome. 'I have to confess.' He sat up. 'I have to repent.'
S-S-S-S-S
Ten minutes later...
S-S-S-S-S
SpongeBob, while still wearing the maid outfit, placed before Squidward a tray that had alphabet soup with the noodles spelt 'WE'RE SORRY' and a cup of lemonade.
Squidward, with his head and upper body tilted forward, stared at the words on the soup. His hands remained on his lap.
SpongeBob was holding a jar of lemonade with his other hand. He crouched and pointed at Squidward's cup of lemonade.
"I've made sure that every lemon used had an odd number of seeds." He pointed at the soup. "I also made sure that the soup wasn't from a can."
Squidward rubbed his chin.
"You didn't have to do all this."
"I have to." SpongeBob stood up. "You're a guest. You must be treated with the utmost courtesy," said in his posh accent. He was on the verge of giggling.
Squidward exhaled through his nose. His chin rested on his hands.
"I didn't do anything to deserve this."
"Don't think like that." SpongeBob tilted Squidward's chin. "Put all of the past fights we had behind us. I have plenty of brotherly love to give."
Squidward was trying with all of his might to focus on the floor's multi-colored particles instead of SpongeBob's blue pupils. His hands curled and leaned againt his chest.
SpongeBob let go of Squidward's chin and walked up to Patrick.
"You're not getting seconds, okay?"
Patrick had been drinking his lemonade form another cup. His face was no longer wrinkled. He nodded.
"The rest is for Squid only." SpongeBob tapped the jar of lemonade.
Gary had just awoken. While stretching, he lifted his back.
SpongeBob pulled the newspaper pile from Gary's bottom, crumpled it into a ball, and tossed it towards a corner in the room.
"Meow~?" Gary's 'brows furrowed'.
"He's allergic to newsprint." SpongeBob pointed at Squidward with his thumb.
"Not true anymore." Squidward sat up. "I grew out of that allergy a long time ago."
SpongeBob lowered his hand and pursed his lips. After several seconds, several light bulbs lit up in his head. He turned back to Squidward.
"You want a massage-"
"No," said Squidward.
Patrick sat down, picked up the remote, and pressed the 'ON' button.
The TV did not turn on.
"Sponge, I think the remote is broken." Patrick gulped down the rest of his lemonade.
SpongeBob hopped to the TV and pressed its lowest button.
The TV still did not turn on.
SpongeBob sat on his knees before the TV and searched through the blank screen for any anomaly. However, he could only discern his own reflection. He then moved his arm in a waving motion, watching how it looked on the screen. He stood up.
"I got something else in mind." He slid down the slide.
S-S-S-S-S
A few minutes later…
S-S-S-S-S
SpongeBob placed before the others an opened cardboard box cut out to resemble a TV. He slipped his hands into two sock puppets: one that depicted a light green fish and one that depicted a dark yellow fish wearing a blue shirt and red tie.
The 'yellow fish' covered his face with both hands. SpongeBob imitated the sound of sobbing.
Patrick chuckled.
"What's wrong?" The 'green fish' raised his hands.
"I did a bad deed," said the 'yellow fish'.
The 'green fish' shrugged.
"There's all kinds of bad deeds. What did you do? Steal some jelly from a jellyfish hive?" SpongeBob imitated the sound of a giggle.
"No." The 'yellow fish' shook his head. "I made the gods mad."
The 'green fish' gasped.
"Ooh~"
"Stop making it worse!" The 'yellow fish' crossed his arms.
The 'green fish' raised his hands again and lowered his head.
"Okay, okay, I'll stop." He glanced to his right and left. "So, what did you do to make the gods mad?"
The 'yellow fish' took a deep breath.
"I wasn't being nice to my neighbors."
"What's so wrong about that?" The 'green fish' leaned his head towards one side. "Maybe you were having a bad day."
"It was more than just one day." The 'yellow fish' leaned over the 'green fish'. "I was like that since the day I moved in."
The 'green fish' looked at the audience for a few seconds.
"Were you just annoying them? If you were doing just that, it's not so bad."
"I wasn't just annoying them." The 'yellow fish' began to pace around. "I was ignoring them when they needed help too."
Squidward took out the noodles spelling 'WE'RE' from the bowl of soup. He then held the bowl of soup through the 'TV screen', before SpongeBob's knees.
Only the noodles 'SORRY' remained on the soup.
"Huh?" SpongeBob put down the puppets.
"I should be saying sorry," said Squidward.
"B-But, but, Squidward," said SpongeBob. "You did nothing-"
"I did do something." Squidward stood up. His hands were beginning to tremble. "You wanna know how the neighborhood got cursed?" He straightened his posture. "I cheated in the dance contest."
Patrick put a hand on his chin.
"Yeah… no wonder me and Sponge's routine felt a bit weird on stage."
SpongeBob's maid headset fell to the floor.
"Is that why we did bad during the contest?"
Squidward nodded.
"H-How-" said SpongeBob.
"Did you use magic?" Patrick leaned towards Squidward with his chin resting on his hands. "However you did it, it must've been pretty cool."
Squidward cringed.
"I found another magic paper," he said.
SpongeBob gasped.
"It happened after I was running away from you guys, when I was acting like a ghost. I went to the temple I always go to to help clear my mind. After the sermon ended, I saw a magic paper lying near the entrance. I took it. I'm not sure if that paper belongs to the temple or somebody else. I then used it during the contest by making it alter the movements of our dances. I then tried to use it during the talent show but it didn't work. After that, the curse somehow began to set in." Squidward's hands clasped together. "I'm sorry for causing this whole mess. I'm selfish, vain, inconsiderate, and a barnacle head. If you want to complain or criticize me, go right ahead. I deserve it. If you don't want to talk to me anymore, you may do that too."
SpongeBob took off his maid outfit, revealing his squarepants.
"S-Squid…"
Patrick shrugged.
"That dancing stuff wasn't really meant to be all serious. I was already ready to lose."
Squidward cocked his brow.
"I remember Sponge telling me something before the contest started…" Patrick held up an 'index finger'. "It was…" He paced in circles. "'No matter if we win or lose, let's make sure we have fun.'"
Squidward was staring into space. His flow of thoughts scrambled.