We've finally reached the play! :D

BlooMan2: True. :) Thanks for reading!

aslan333: Thanks for the review!

Solid Sun: Hopefully, that setup will pay off! :) Thanks for reviewing.

SOLmaster: It's a villain thing, I guess - they're always one step ahead. :| Unless they're Crocker or Plankton. XD Thanks very much!

TweenisodeOrange: Making you laugh like yeah! :P Thanks!

Zim'sMostLoyalServant: Yep, I've got plans for another. (cue groans) The photo album bit was my favourite part as well. :) Thank you!

Chapter Eight: In Which Things Get Really Bad

The day of the play had come, far too quickly for Timmy's tastes. It was certainly nerve-wracking enough without a demonically possessed friend thrown in.

He was standing in the courtyard at Lindbergh Elementary, fidgeting at the uncomfortably tight collar on his red coat. His uniform didn't fit well, it smelt weird and it stood out like a sore thumb – according to Principal Willoughby, this made it more authentic, you see.

He glanced around the courtyard, anxiety filling his nerves. Chester and AJ, dressed in blue uniforms, were mingling with a few other soldier-actors. Carl, dressed as a colonist, was loudly and nervously reading from a script. There was no sign of the lead, however…

"Looking for me, soldier?"

Timmy jumped, and turned around. Spongebob was standing before him, sneering.

"What're you doing here?" demanded Timmy, a faint hint of fear in his voice, "Shouldn't you be practicing?"

"Oh, I've been practicing, alright," snarled Spongebob, "I've been practicing for two hundred years."

He looked at the horizon, towards the setting sun.

"Darkness is coming, soldier," he warned, "You know that as well as I."

"Not if we stop you," snapped Timmy.

Spongebob raised an eyebrow.

"How said I had anything to do with it?"

He walked away, leaving Timmy blinking in confusion.

Principal Willoughby stepped out onto the stage, dressed in a rather tacky green three-piece suit he had fished out of the back of his wardrobe. He received a polite if unenthusiastic applause.

"Ladies, gentlemen, miscellaneous," he announced, "I'm so glad you could make it. We've been working for weeks to put on this play for you, and here's hoping you enjoy it! And if not, please save the rotten fruit for the actors and not me."

He paused, waiting for a laugh. All he got was microphone static.

"…anyway," he gulped, "Err…on the behalf Lindbergh Elementary, Dimmsdale Elementary and all of our helpers, I am proud to present…the Shadow and the Maiden!"

He stepped off the stage. The lights dimmed, and the curtains opened. The play had officially begun.

Carl stood before a somewhat crude backdrop, holding a cowbell as he walked across the stage.

"Make way, make way!" he called in his nasally voice, "I have a message for the Mayor! Make way!"

There was a brief pause and a faint crash from off-stage. Dizzily, Bolbi stumbled out from stage right, Spongebob following behind him.

Spongebob, at this point in the play, was smartly dressed in a tailed suit and scarf. A tall top hat was perched on his head, and fake glasses covered his eyes. His expression was innocent and rather naïve – as far as the audience was concerned, this was plain old Spongebob Squarepants.

"You have message?" exclaimed Bolbi, "Tell me! Tell me now, I say!"

"The redcoats! The redcoats are marching south from…"

Carl glanced to the side of the stage. Squidward was holding up an idiot board.

"Oopper Caynada!" finished Carl.

Squidward facepalmed.

"Redcoats?" gasped Bolbi, "There is no time to be lost!"

He swung round to look at Spongebob.

"Wake Colonel Gage! Tell him to march to defend town!" he ordered.

"Yes sir!" nodded Spongebob, running off.

As he left the stage, he grinned to himself. Only an hour to go…

Timmy walked out to stage, followed by some red-coated soldiers. He was carrying a sword in his right arm, and he was glaring across the stage at Chester and some blue-coated soldiers. The backdrop depicted an open field – the battlefield.

"Company – halt!" yelled Timmy.

The troops stopped, and aimed their rather fake-looking muskets. There was a loud bang, and smoke covered the stage. Next to Timmy, Nick gave a shrill scream and fell unconvincingly to the ground.

This carried on for a few minutes, before the outnumbered blue-coated soldiers began to break and run. Timmy raised his sword.

"Press the attack, lads!" he yelled, "Tonight we dine in Maine!"

There was another bang, and Timmy fell down, clutching his leg. It looked rather convincing – mainly because Timmy had actually slipped on the waxed floor.

Sandy was standing over a pail of water, washing out some bandages for Timmy's 'wound'. She was wearing a white gown and a gold necklace. Spongebob, or rather the thing in his body, was standing behind her – she felt a bad taste in her mouth, but carried on acting.

"The Mayor isn't happy about us looking after the Englishman," said Spongebob. He was holding the cloak – according to the play, it was the Maiden's family heirloom.

"He wouldn't have survived without treatment," snapped Sandy, "If the Mayor doesn't like it, well, tough. I was brought up better then that."

Timmy limped in from stage left, his leg heavily bandaged.

"Can I go soon," he wheezed, "I…I need to get back to my battle brothers. The enemy will be…at our door…"

"Calm down, soldier," grinned Spongebob, "You've still got a ways to go. Your men can handle themselves."

All of a sudden, Carl ran in from stage right.

"The Mayor needs you, sir!" he called, "It's urgent!"

"It's raining out," noted Sandy.

"I left my coat at home, too," groaned Spongebob.

Sandy bit down another terrible taste in her mouth, and forced herself to say the next line.

"You can take that coat if you want. Call it a gift…"

Mr. Bickles and Willoughby watched another scene play out. AJ was kneeling over Chester, who was lying on the ground. Chester coughed implausibly, and went limp.

AJ screamed at the ceiling.

"I should have been the one to fill your dark soul with light!" he wailed.

"Why did you add that line?" whispered Willoughby.

Mr. Bickles shushed him.

The cloaked Spongebob was sitting with Timmy, drinking rum. In actuality, of course, it was coloured water, but the audience were informed it was rum.

"…so you think the cloak is cursed?" finished Timmy.

"All these people go missing in the night," explained Spongebob, "And when I wake up, I'm usually on the ground outside. That can't simply be sleepwalking…"

"Why'd you turn to me?" asked Timmy.

"…I thought I could trust you," replied Spongebob, "Since I helped you, and…"

Timmy nodded.

"We'll get to the bottom of it, my friend," he promised.

Timmy was now in a situation almost as disagreeable as dealing with a cursed Spongebob – acting on stage with Eustace Strytch.

"Sergeant," snarled Eustace, "What is the delay? Why haven't you burnt this town? That's what you should have done," he paused unnecessarily, "In the beginning."

Timmy rolled his eyes. At least he wasn't the worst actor on stage.

"Why?" he demanded, "Why do we need to torch this village?"

"This is an order, Sergeant," growled Eustace.

Timmy stared at Eustace for a moment, looking him straight in the eye.

"I am a man of England," he replied, "But I have been assisted in my recovery by the people of this town."

He pointed accusingly at Eustace, his expression hardening.

"And now you have come to torch this place and leave the people homeless!"

He sighed heavily.

"If I am forced to choose between my King and my friends, then I must choose…"

There was a short silence.

"…I must choose this town," he finished, quietly.

In the audience, Willoughby grinned at Mr. Bickles.

"Well, he actually did it," he whispered, "You owe me twenty dollars!"

Mr. Bickles cursed, and handed Willoughby the note.

Spongebob was huddled in the corner of the stage, the sounds of rioting and general mayhem outside. His terrified expression masked his true feelings – his triumph was mere moments away.

Sandy entered the set, looking flustered.

"They're not leaving," she said, "They think killing you will stop the Shadowed One."

Spongebob buried his head in my hands.

"They were my friends…"

There was a brief silence. Then he looked Sandy in the eyes, his red tinted glare piercing into her very soul.

"I have been betrayed by the ones I thought were my kin," he growled, "They have abandoned me to this fate, to be consumed by this monster in my heart!"

He was now yelling.

"They promised to stand by me!"

He kicked a barrel over. It broke on the stage floor, and Sandy jumped.

Spongebob breathed heavily, looking her in the eyes again.

"They think I'm doomed to become a beast," he hissed, "And if they think me a beast…"

He smiled. It was a demented smile, with not even the slightest hint of joy or mirth.

"Then a beast I will be," he snarled.

There was a bang, and the room was plunged into darkness.

Timmy had been pacing backstage when the lights went out. In the darkness, he immediately tripped over a broom and landed flat on his face.

Shaking his head, Timmy climbed to his feet and stumbled blindly towards the stage. He could see an eerie faint purple light emitting from the roof.

He reached the stage. His jaw dropped.

Every chair in the audience was occupied by a small doll. They sat limply in their seats, their beady eyes seemingly focused on Timmy.

"Well," he gulped, "I know what I'm dreaming about tonight."

He turned to the stage. Spongebob stood, arms crossed, at the edge of the stage. Behind him, Sandy was staring into his back, fists clenched.

"I think we're alone now," snarled Spongebob.

He turned around, his eyes glowing in the dark room.

"So," he sniffed, "Do you have any plans?"

"Just one," replied Sandy, narrowing her eyes.

Quickly, Timmy pulled an electronic-looking headband from under his hat and tossed it to Sandy, before taking a ray-gun like contraption from his pocket. Sandy put the headband on her head and flicked a switch, lighting it up.

"Are you practicing a magic trick?" chuckled Spongebob, "Because it doesn't impress me…"

"Oh, it will," grinned Timmy, "You might even say I'm gonna…get into your head."

Sandy groaned loudly.

"Yeah, I'm never saying that again either," sighed Timmy.

He pulled the trigger on the ray gun.

There was a bright white flash.

When it receded, a very surprised looking Timmy was staring at his ray-gun device.

"What?" he exclaimed, "It didn't work! Now what're we gonna…"

He had turned to Sandy, but found only thin air where she had been. He looked at the device again as reality struck him.

"…we wired it backwards, didn't we?" he gulped.

"It would appear so," sniffed Spongebob.

"…and that means I'm the one fighting you, aren't I?"

"Again, it would appear so."

Timmy looked to the ceiling, cursing his luck.

Sandy opened her eyes and stared.

She was standing in a long, dark corridor, like a dungeon but slightly more roomy. Empty cells with rusty bars stretched as far as the eye could see, illuminated eerily by dim lanterns.

Obviously, this was not Lindbergh Elementary.

"Shoot!" she cursed, "Must've wired the thing wrong!"

She shook her head and grabbed a lantern from the wall.

"Well, Sandy," she told herself, "It happens. We can still fix this…"

She crept down the corridor, down into the darkness of Spongebob's imprisoned mind…

Imaginary cookies to those who can point out all the references in the play! :P

Well, we're getting into the climax! :D