Plankton lay on the makeshift bed of crumpled newspaper, his body
contorted into an uncomfortable knot. "I can't get to sleep, Eugene."
Krabs sighed. "Why not?"
"To hard," Plankton complained.
Krabs looked over. "Maybe you need something to relax," he suggested.
Plankton nodded, hopeful. "Like what?"
Krabs considered for a moment, then his eyes lit up. "How about a bed
time story?"
"A what?" Plankton's voice was filled with skepticism.
"You know, something to lull you to sleep."
Plankton's expression softened. "Alright, Krabs, hit me with your best
shot."
Eugene cleared his throat and began his tale. "Once upon a time, in the vast expanse
of the sea, there was a tiny plankton named Planky..."
Plankton's eye widened for a moment, but the gentle rhythm of Krabs' voice soon
began to work its magic. The crab's words painted a picture of a serene under
water world, where the currents were soft whispers and the bioluminescent
creatures danced a silent ballet. Plankton's eye grew heavier with each sentence,
his body slowly unfurling from its tense state.
"Planky," Eugene continued, "was a curious little fellow who loved nothing more
than to drift through the sea, discovering its many secrets." His voice took on a
soothing quality, each word carefully measured to match the steady rise and fall
of the ocean outside their abode.
"One night," Krabs went on, "as the moon cast its silver glow through the
water, Planky stumbled upon a hidden lagoon. It was a place where the jelly
fish swam in lazy circles, their soft bodies pulsing to an ancient lullaby that
only the deep-sea creatures knew."
Plankton's eyelid grew heavier, the image of the tranquil lagoon filling his
mind.
"In the center of this secret place," Krabs whispered, "was a giant clam,
its shell open just enough to reveal a soft, inviting cushion of algae.
Planky couldn't resist the urge to rest his tiny body upon it."
Plankton's breathing grew deeper. He could almost feel the gentle sway
of the clam's soft inner lining beneath him, the coolness of the water
surrounding him, and the hypnotic pull of the moon's glow.
Krabs noticed the change in his friend's demeanor and continued the
story with renewed enthusiasm. "As Planky lay on the clam's cushion,
the jellyfish grew closer, their ethereal lights creating a dazzling display
of color that danced in time with the whispers of the water. They sang to
him, their melodies echoing through the quiet night."
The room grew quieter, save for the sound of the waves outside and
Krabs' steady voice. Plankton's eye closed fully, his breathing syncing
with the rhythm of the story. The crab went on, "Their song was one of
peace and tranquility, of a world where worries were as fleeting as the
bubbles that floated to the surface. Planky felt his troubles melt away,
replaced by the warm embrace of the sea."
Then, amidst the serene imagery, the first faint sound of a snore
escaped Plankton. It was a sound so small and delicate that it could
have easily been mistaken.
Krabs smirked to himself. It's working. He leaned in closer, his voice
dropping to a near-whisper. "As the jellyfish serenaded him, Planky felt
his eyes grow heavier and heavier, until they could no longer stay open.
The lagoon's secrets grew dimmer, the colors of the jellyfish fading into
a soft, comforting darkness."
The snores grew progressively, more regular. Krabs took a moment to
appreciate his own cleverness before continuing the tale. "The sea
creatures of the night, noticing Planky's peaceful slumber, decided to
join him. They formed a living blanket of fish and algae, wrapping him
in their gentle embrace, ensuring his sleep would be uninterrupted."
Plankton's body grew slack, the tension in his muscles seeping away as
he descended deeper into the realm of sleep. His snores grew more
rhythmic. The light from the moon had been absorbed into his dreams,
guiding him through a world of peace and contentment.
Krabs watched his friend's sleeping form, noticing the way the shadows
played across his tiny frame, Plankton's antennae twitching ever so
slightly with every snore, mouth slightly open as he inhaled and then
to let out the soft, rumbling sounds. The sight was peculiar, yet endearing
in its own peculiar way. He had never seen Plankton so relaxed, so free.
The crab felt a strange sense of accomplishment and allowed himself
a brief moment of pride before remembering his own exhaustion.
"Now, Sheldon," Eugene murmured, "Let your mind rest, and tomorrow
we'll tackle the world anew."