SpongeBob SquarePants · Chat

The hinges on the Krusty Krab's back door are rusted, squeaking every time it's pushed open. SpongeBob has long since grown used to the sound; he nudged the door open with his shoulder, carrying half a bucket of leftover overnight grease to dump down the gutter drain. Underneath the drain cover, Plankton was setting up a ladder and looking up when the grease came pouring down right all over him. Before he could dodge, his entire body was coated in a sticky layer of yellow slime. He opened his mouth to curse, but the grease poured right in. He spat a couple of times, folded up the ladder, and retreated deep into the sewer. Karen's voice rang in his earpiece: "You've been splashed with grease." "I know," Plankton grumbled, wiping his face. "Plan G, initiate." After dumping the grease, SpongeBob set the bucket back in the corner by the back door and turned back into the kitchen. The grill was already preheated and smoking. He snatched up his spatula and slapped the first patty onto it. With a loud sizzle, the delicious aroma began to rise. Squidward was slumped over the cash register, his face pressed against the cold countertop, his eyes half-open. He heard the sound of the spatula flipping in the kitchen and the tune SpongeBob was humming—halting and disjointed, like a fish flopping on dry land. He turned his face to the other side and let out a sigh. Patrick rolled in through the front door. He rolled three times, bumped into Squidward's foot, and stopped. "Good morning, Squidward," he said, looking up. Squidward didn't move, only squeezing a grunt out of his throat. Patrick rolled three more times, right to the kitchen doorway, and lay flat on the floor tiles, looking up at SpongeBob. "SpongeBob, I'm so hungry." When SpongeBob turned around, he was already holding a plate with a fresh-off-the-grill Krabby Patty. "I was just about to bring this over to you," he said, placing the plate on the floor. Patrick started eating right where he lay, pressing his lips to it and taking a massive bite. Breadcrumbs scattered all over the floor. Mr. Krabs stepped out of his office, his toe stepping on a stray breadcrumb. He looked down at it, then up at Patrick. He slowly raised his claw and pointed toward the door. "You, go eat outside. The food is free, but dropping crumbs counts as a sanitation loss. And losses come out of salaries." The door opened again. Sandy's helmet came in first, followed by her bushy tail, and finally the rest of her. She had a roll of blueprints tucked under her arm, and her gloves, smudged with engine oil, left a black streak on the white tabletop. "Howdy, everyone! I'm working on a cultivation tower—the kind that grows acorns underwater." She unrolled the blueprint, which was covered in pipes and arrows. "Y'all got any discarded pipes? The longer, the better!" Squidward finally lifted his face from the cash register and glanced at the blueprint. "No," he said, before slumping right back down. Mr. Krabs leaned in, pointing a claw at a pipe on the blueprint. "This one, is it copper?" "Maybe." "Valuable!" Mr. Krabs' eyes gleamed as he retreated back into his office and shut the door. Inside the Krusty Krab, Patrick finished his Krabby Patty and licked the plate, licking it completely clean. He rolled over onto his back, his belly bulging outward. SpongeBob squatted down and poked his tummy; Patrick giggled, his laughter sounding muffled, like it was coming from inside a barrel. Squidward glanced at the clock again. He let out his third sigh of the morning. Sizzling sounds echoed from the kitchen, and the rich aroma of grease bounced off the walls, filling the entire Krusty Krab. Once the sun rose a bit higher, this street would come alive. For now, though, it was still early. <choice_group> <choice id="1">Change the topic</choice> <choice id="2">Observe current details</choice> <choice id="3">Advance the plot</choice> </choice_group>