Sorry this chapter is late up – net went down last night. So much for daily updates. And oh God, what was I thinking last chapter? Good thing I've just fixed all the dialogue and definition errors. Mental note: 'fag hag' does not mean what I think it means. (facepalm)
Fortunately, this chapter is better than the sporkable effort last night. This is the bit that I really looked forward to the most in the planning of this story. I gotta tell you, I had Too. Much. Fun with this.

Fortunately for his ear-drums, Squidward had the sense to plug them until SpongeBob stopped getting scared (and pretty grossed out) over the recently-deceased whale on the floor at high volumes.
"Yeah, I know," he commiserated when the racket had died down. "All that blood, sweat and blubber butt; clashes with the fruit punch, doesn't it? Work on, your OCD, work."

Mr Krabs was none too happy either – his daughter had just died, after all. "Ye…ye monster," he growled at his disgruntled employee (the murderer one, not the host). "Ye bring my daughter back to life right now or you're fired."
"Fine, sure, OK. Fire me. I've been waiting for you to do that for years." Indeed, Squidward now looked positively ecstatic – the highest mood he'd been in all night. "Besides, look on the bright side, Eugene. No daughter left means no more huge expenses, right?"
The crustacean's face clouded over. "That's all ye care about, isn't it? How much money we have in our pocket."
"That's a question you should ask yourself, Megatron. I mean, Krabs."

The callousness with which this recent death was being treated only served to scare everybody more. Even the headstrong Sandy, self-proclaimed bravest gal in the undersea, struggled to maintain her composure.

And it was time for her to deal with this threat in the only way she knew how. Good ol' fashioned Texan…whatever it is they called it.

"Now, who to kill next?" the 'threat' was musing whilst Sandy pushed through the crowd to confront him. "The glutton? The cheapskate? So many choices…so little time."
"Now hang on a darn minute."
Well, what do you know? Protestin' Texan right on cue.
"If you're planning on killin' more critters tonight, Squidward," the squirrel shouted, roughly turning her target around, "you're gonna have to get through me first."

"Ah, the mammal creature. I was wondering when you would show up."
"Don't ya talk to me like that!" Ooh, testy testy – clearly Sandy was getting angrier than her manner gave away. Which was no easy feat. "You can't just show up and crash the beginnin' of a fine tootin' party with your swaggering and your fancy talk about death."
"I can," smirked the octopus, "because clearly I have."
"And ya won't be again. You are gonna march right out of this pineapple and turn yourself in. If not, I'll do it for ya, and you'll be in more trouble than a hot-footed varmin caught pilfering Tootsie Rolls from a bargain store."

It was no good - SpongeBob had to make a comment here. "You make less sense every day, Sandy," he smiled.
"And you make 'keep yer mouth shut as I'm trying to save our tanhides'."

It took a little time for Squidward to escape her grasp. (Damn, Texan tomboys have a tight grip, he thought. No wonder she's the iron lady.)

"Impressive speech there, Sandy." He clapped his tentacles together in mock applause. "Unfortunately, you've made a couple of oversights. First of all: I can't get out of the living room, even if I wanted to. Your precious boyfriend locked us all in, remember?"
"…Uuuuh…"
"And for another thing, I will most definitely be killing again. And as it so happens, I've decided that you're going to be my next victim. You must feel honored," he pointed out.
She rolled her eyes in exasperation. "I think ya forgot the 'u' in 'honour', Mr Grammar Nazi."
"Bite me, bitch."
"Ooh, I would if I could."

"Well, enough stalling," he said, brushing some stray blood off of his hands. "Time for you to die."
"And what ancient mystical treatment do ya have for us this time?" she growled. "A paperclip?"
"No, your arch nemesis - a plot hole."

"Say whut?"

Another grin. He had her stumped there and he knew it. "You're the master of picking out things that are physically impossible underwater, non? It's why you came down here in the first place," he explained by way of exposition.
"How did ya know that?" she asked, temporarily convinced that she had a stalker.
"A very close insider from your clever little surface world. But you're not the only one who can pick up on these things, you know."
"She isn't?" (SpongeBob asked this one.)
"Sure. God knows I think about it all the time. For example, did you know that being under the sea puts huge amounts of pressure on an animal's body?"
SpongeBob piped up again. "I knew that! Santa said so. He said it was why he had a big no—"
"Yeah yeah, SpongeBob, w'all know the bit." Sandy shrugged this trivia aside. "What's yer point, Squidward?"

"Well, surely a goldfish bowl isn't enough to survive the obscene amounts of pressure in the living room." His red eyes went wide as he said this. "And as happened with all plotholes, when they are questioned, the physics realign themselves…and before you know it, the helmet goes chink.
"Chink…crack…smash. Shatter, shatter, shatter, shatter, shatter, drown. Bam, one dead squirrel."

A pause…as nothing happened.

"Um…" his pupils darted around. "Shouldn't something be happening by now?"

"Hah! Gotcha there, Squidward!" Sandy grinned triumphantly. "This time, you're the one with the oversight. Remember my pressure suit? It protects both me and my helmet from the dangers of the outersea ocean. A little thing like pressure ain't gonna hurt it."

…

"Well…damn."

Everyone held their breath in anticipation. Could it be? Had Sandy just cheated a murderous death and gotten away with it?

"OK, Plan B." Squidward promptly reached for his gun again, and with just two bullets smashed the glass helmet, and her oxygen tank.
Breathe out. They should have known it was too good to be true.

And as if to add insult to injury, Squidward wouldn't even allow her the courtesy of a pickle jar, preferring to kick the mammal down and stand on her neck to further speed up suffocation. The bubbles flew in a frenzy, slowly but surely decreasing in speed.

"There we go. Let's see how long you can hold your breath now…Landy."