I find it hard to write chapters like this - forwarding the plot, but not really exciting, if you will.
Review replies;
BlooMan2: Day = made. :) Things like that make me feel happy. Thanks for reading!
Zim'sMostLoyalServant: Well, his plans aren't good, I can tell you that much. :] Thanks for the review!
RunnerAwaker: Yes, yes we are. :P Thanks for reviewing!
SOLmaster: My Timmy Muse would like to thank you for the vote of confidence. :P XD Thanks very much!
Chapter Seven: In Which There Are Preparations
It was the last day of rehearsals.
The participants – actors, stage crew and organisers – had gathered before the Lindbergh Elementary stage, listening to Willoughby and Mr. Bickles exposit of how well things were going and how proud they were (particularly, in Mr. Bickles case, of himself). They were largely ignored, as excited whispers or just general chitchat was hissed across the room. Only three were really silent.
Timmy's eyes were on the corner of the stage, where a certain suited individual was loitering in the corner. The Man in the White Suit looked at Timmy, and gave him an almost-invisible smirk.
Spongebob's eyes were on the ceiling, his own uncharacteristic leer on his face. He seemed to be concentrating intently on the ceiling tiles, but was in fact deep in thought, planning…something.
Sandy's eyes were on Spongebob, gazing at her possessed friend as if he were a ticking time bomb. In a way, this was not too far from the truth.
At last, Willoughby and Mr. Bickles had finished, and the Man in the White Suit stepped up. He was grinning – this, Timmy had decided, was a bad sign.
"I would like to thank you all for this opportunity to fund such a promising production," he began, "Nurturing the actor or organiser in their talent is a vital asset in the road to the theatre or cinema. I can think of few more noble tasks…"
Great, thought Timmy, he's evil and long-winded.
"Alas, we are not yet finished," continued the Man, "The next few days present the hardest of our many trials. With the night of the performance on Wednesday, we have just a few days left to prepare."
"I have the utmost confidence," he said, "That this performance will be…remembered for a long time to come…"
Timmy was completely lost.
He sat in his bedroom, looking over a map of Lindbergh Elementary and trying to formulate a plan. Nothing came to his mind, save for background noise.
"This is hopeless," he sighed to himself, "Danny and Jimmy are gone, Spongebob's possessed, my fairies are dollified, and I don't have any idea how to fix this!"
He banged his head on his desk.
"Why is this week so terrible?" he lamented.
"Timmy! I'd hate to interrupt your moping, but you have a visitor!"
Mr. Turner burst into the room, battering ram in hand.
"I don't even know why I did that!" he exclaimed.
He walked away, and Sandy entered the room. Timmy raised an eyebrow.
"How did you get past my parents?" he asked, "Wouldn't they notice that you're a squirrel?"
Sandy grabbed a photo album from the desk and flipped to a page. Two pictures of Dark Laser and Shallowgrave were inside. They were labelled 'Timmy's College Dean' and 'the nice man from Timmy's school' respectively.
"Point taken," deadpanned Timmy.
"So," asked Sandy, "Guessing you know about this whole 'Shadowed One' stuff?"
"Yeah," nodded Timmy, "He thinks we're the maiden and the soldier. I'd say he's totally nuts, but…yeah, he's totally nuts."
"How do you reckon we get Spongebob back?" mused Sandy.
Timmy sighed, and shook his head.
"I dunno," he groaned, "I just…I dunno."
"If only there was some kinda way to get into his head and boot this demon varmint out," nodded Sandy.
Timmy nodded his agreement.
At that moment, a brainwave hit him.
"The Dream Injector 5000!" he exclaimed.
"The…what?" asked Sandy.
"The Dream Injector 5000," repeated Timmy, "It's one of Jimmy's inventions. He used it to go into Carl's dream this one time. Maybe…"
"…we could use it to enter Spongebob's psyche and help him get control of his body back!" finished Sandy.
"I was just gonna say 'go into his head', but that works too," said Timmy, "What are we waiting for? To the lab!"
He jumped on his desk and pointed at the ceiling.
He paused.
"Never let me do that again," he asked.
The Man in the White Suit paced his lab, Crocker and Professor Calamitous standing to the side. Crocker looked extremely nervous, trying to hide behind the much shorter professor.
"Mr. Crocker tells me that you've got a mind for science," said the Man, "That's good – I'll need that in my plans."
"Oh?" quizzed Calamitous, "And what plan is this?"
"Just a little business with the fabric of time," shrugged the Man, offhandedly, "I won't need you for a while; I just need you to be ready."
He grinned at Calamitous.
"It is, after all, in both our interests to hurt the Nicktoons, is it not?"
Calamitous nodded, smirking.
"I'll get to work on it," he agreed, "Anything to see those fools…um…uh…"
The Man shot Calamitous a glare. There was a red tint in his eyes.
"I will tell you what I told 'dear' Mr. Crocker," he snapped, "I do not gladly suffer fools."
Calamitous gulped, nodded and walked quickly away.
"Now," nodded the Man, "Let's see the white team's next move."
He looked at a monitor. Jimmy's lab was displayed on screen. Sandy was making modifications to one of Jimmy's inventions while Timmy stood apathetically to the side, tapping his foot.
"Just as I anticipated…" he sneered.
Making the plans like yeah! Suffrin' the fools like yeah!