6 Emojis & Text

🎂6️⃣

©️🅰️6️⃣

6️⃣🎸🤘

6️⃣/VI

ⅤⅠ

🇱6️⃣

6️⃣🔟

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

🇦🇫6️⃣📹

Ⅵ

🕕

✋☝️

🦊6️⃣🕒

☀️🐦6️⃣

❻❾

🚘6️⃣

👤6️⃣⏳

6️⃣

🇯🇵🚗6️⃣

6️⃣9️⃣

⋆𖦹.ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐˙⟡

⠁⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠁⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠙⠉⠉⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣼⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢸⡇⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠸ ⡀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣐⣄⣧⣿⣿⣿⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⢰⡇⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢸ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⢿⠹⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠸⠀⡇⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣴⣠⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢻⠉⠉⠈⠀⠀⡇⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢻⠀⡇⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⡇⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⡆⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠐⠀⠀⠀⡇⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢸⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠉⠉⡉⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣿⣿⣼⣫⣟⣹⣦⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠟⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠄⣿⣿⣿⢿⣙⣦⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣰⠁⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠹⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⡟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡄⣷⣿⣿⣿⠻⣌⣶⣶⣤⣀⠀⡟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢰⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⣆⣿⣿⣿⣿⠻⠈⠀⠀⠇⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣼⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⡄⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣴⠀⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⣷⣿⣿⣿⢿⠘⠀⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⡀⣤⣶⣶⣿⣾⣶⣤⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣧⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀natsikaP⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣼⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢰⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣄⣶⣿⣿⣶⣴⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠋⠟⠿⠿⠿⠻⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠂⠀⠀⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠃⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣧⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣴⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣤⠀⠀⠀natsudniH⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⣶⣾⣿⠿⠿⠿⣿⣷⣶⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣾⡿⠟⠉⠁⠀⠀⣠⠶⠒⠙⠛⠿⣿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢠⣾⡿⠋⠀⠀⠤⣄⣀⣰⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢠⣿⡿⡡⠖⠋⠙⠲⣄⠐⢻⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⣿⣿⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢳⠈⢧⠀⠀⣾⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⡇⠀⠀⣠⣴⣶⣄ ⠀⠀⣿⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⠀⠘⣿⡿⢷⣄⠘⠛⡃⠀⠰⠀⠀⣿⣇⣴⡾⠟⠋⢹⣿ ⠀⠀⢿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⡇⠀⢿⣴⣾⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⡿⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿ ⠀⠀⠘⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠈⠩⠥⠀⠀⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡟ ⠀⠀⠀⠘⢿⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠽⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⡿⠁ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣹⣿⣶⣤⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠤⠊⠁⠀⠘⣷⡀⠀⣠⣾⡿⠁⠀ ⠀⠀⢀⣴⣾⠿⠋⠀⠉⠉⠛⠀⠐⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣶⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀ ⣠⣶⡿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢿⣿⣄⠀⠀⠀⢰⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠙⠿⢿⣶⣶⣾⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⣿⣇⢀⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣀⣾⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿⡟⠛⠛⠿⣷⣄⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣴⡾⠟⠋⢉⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⠿⣶⣶⣶⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠻⠿⠿⠷⠶⠶⠿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀

?9i999i9i899898998 on emojicombos.ᐟ<𝟑

guys i being see dumb shit like this post if you like god shit like god give no fuck about you you dumb shit i hope you get hit by a pick up truck this is not fucking tik toc dumb shit god dose not love he dose not give a fuck about you go to hell get the fuck out dumb shits🤫🧏‍♂️🤫🧏‍♂️🤫🧏‍♂️you have no gyatt no rizz and no aura ²⁰⁰⁹

𝖠𝖴𝖳𝖨𝖲𝖬 𝖠𝖭𝖣 𝖠𝖫𝖫 pt. 6 (𝖻𝗒 𝗇𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖿𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) 𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴘʀᴏꜰᴇꜱꜱɪᴏɴᴀʟ ʀᴇᴀʟɪꜱᴛɪᴄ/ꜰᴀᴄᴛ-ʙᴀꜱᴇᴅ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴜɴɪᴛɪᴇꜱ. ᴅᴏᴇꜱ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀɪᴍ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀᴇꜱᴄʀɪʙᴇ ᴏʀ ᴘʀᴏᴍᴏᴛᴇ ᴀɴʏ ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪꜰɪᴄ ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛᴍᴇɴᴛ. ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴇᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴇɴᴛᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴᴍᴇɴᴛ. sᥙρρort to thosᥱ ιmρᥲᥴtᥱd ᴄᴏɴᴄᴇᴩᴛ- 𝘊𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 ➸ 𝐏𝐆-𝟏𝟑 ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ🙂ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ɴɪᴄᴇ ᴅᴀʏ The sounds Plankton makes shift again. "Skrink, skrink." Karen's eyes light up with understanding. "It's his brain's new way of saying 'I'm okay'," she whispers. "It's a 'stim'." Chip looks at his dad, his curiosity piqued. Plankton's antennae wriggle, his eye glazed over. "Skrink, skrink, skrink." The sounds are soothing, almost hypnotic. "It's like he's playing a tune," Chip murmurs. Karen nods. "In a way, he is," she says. "It's his brain's symphony." The room is bathed in the glow of Plankton's stims, his autism's unique melody. "Dad?" Chip asks tentatively, his voice a whisper. Plankton's head tilts slightly, his antennae still. "Skrink skrink skrink," he repeats. It's like he's in a trance, lost in a world only he understands. Plankton's eye flickers. "It's okay, Plankton," Karen whispers. "You can keep making your sounds." And then it happens. Plankton's voice shifts, echoing Karen's words. "It's okay, Plankton," he murmurs. Chip looks at his mom, his eyes wide. "Is he... is he okay?" Karen nods. "It's his way of processing," she says. "It's called 'echolalia'." Chip nods, his gaze never leaving his father's. "It's when his brain mimics the words he hears to make sense of them," she explains. "It's like when you repeat something until it feels right." Plankton's antennae twitch in time with his echoes. "It's okay, Plankton," he says, his voice a mirror of Karen's soothing tone. Chip smiles. "It's okay, Plankton," he repeats, trying to enforce his dad's calm. But Plankton thinks Chip's making fun of him. His antennae shoot straight up, his eye wide with hurt anger at Chip. "It's not a game, Chip!" Plankton snaps. "It's not something to tck tck... to mock!" Karen sighs, knowing this conversation needs to be handled with care. "Sorry, Dad," Chip says, his voice shaking. "I just... I thought it would he-" "It's not for you to think about!" Plankton cuts him off. Karen puts a hand on Chip's shoulder, her gaze on Plankton. "Chip didn't mean anything by it," she says calmly. "He just wants to understand and connect." She turns to Chip, her screen filled with compassion. "I know it's hard to see Dad like this," she says. "But remember, his autism is part of him, and we need to respect it. He doesn't like it when you mimic his sounds like that." Chip nods, feeling a wave of guilt. "I'm sorry, Dad," he whispers. Plankton's antennae droop slightly, but he doesn't look at Chip. "It's okay," Karen says, her voice soothing. "We're all learning here." Plankton's hand starts to move again, tracing patterns on the blanket. Karen watches. "It's his 'stimming', Chip," she says. "It's his way of self-soothing, and these movements and sounds help him to cope." Chip nods, his eyes still wet. "But why did he get so mad when I do it?" he asks. Karen sighs. "Because it's his own personal language, his way of understanding the world," she explains. "When you address it, he feels like you're invading his space, like you're not taking his feelings seriously. It's something his brain does for himself only." Karen smiles gently. "It's okay, Plankton," she whispers. "Chip's just trying to understand everything. You can keep making your sounds." Chip wants to help, but he doesn't know how. "Just let him be, Chip," Karen says, her voice soothing. Plankton shifts again, his eye teary. "It's okay, Plankton," he murmurs, echoing Karen's words from earlier. Chip clenches. He didn't mean to upset him, seeing his dad's eye welling up with tears. Karen's hand finds Plankton's, squeezing it gently. "It's okay, Plankton," she says. "You don't have to hide it from us." Plankton's tears spill over, tracing a silent river down his cheek. Karen's eyes never leave his. "You don't have to hide, Plankton," she whispers. "We're here for you." Chip watches. He doesn't know what to do, his mind racing. "Mom," he says, his voice shaking, "What can I do?" Karen turns to him, her expression gentle. "Just be here," she says. "Just listen and learn." Plankton's tears stream down. "It's okay, Plankton," he hears his wife say again. The words echo in his mind, a comforting mantra. "It's okay, Plankton," Plankton murmurs, trying to mimic her tone. But it sounds forced, wrong. He swallows hard. "That's right, Plankton," Karen says, smiling. "You're okay. You're safe, Plankton," she repeats. "You're here with us." Chip watches his dad, his heart breaking. "Mom, why is he...?" Karen's eyes are filled with pain. "It's his way of telling us he's okay," she says. "He's using my words because right now, his brain can't find his own." Chip nods, his eyes on his father. Plankton's hand is still moving, tracing the patterns on the blanket. "It's okay, Dad," Chip whispers. Plankton's crying intensifies, his tics becoming more pronounced. "Tck tck tck," he murmurs, his antennae flailing. Karen reaches for him, but he flinches away. "It's okay, Plankton," she says, her voice calm. "We're here." Chip watches, his own screen wet with tears. He's never seen his dad like this before. He feels like an outsider in a conversation he's always been a part of. "You don't have to hide your tears," Karen whispers to Plankton. "We're a family." Plankton's sobs become louder, his tics more pronounced. "Tck tck tck," he says, his body convulsing slightly. Karen's hand is firm but gentle on his back, offering silent support. "It's okay," she murmurs. "Let it out." Chip watches. "Why is he...?" his voice trails off. Karen looks at him, her screen full of love. "It's his way of saying he's overwhelmed, Chip," she whispers. "When he repeats my words, it's his brain trying to find the comfort it needs." Plankton's cries become louder, his tics more erratic. "Tck tck tck," he sobs, his body shaking. Chip feels helpless, his mind racing. He wants to make it stop, but he doesn't know how. "Just be here, buddy," Karen says, her voice calm. "Sometimes, that's all he needs." Plankton's tics morph into full-body shudders, his cries now muffled by the blanket. "It's okay, Plankton," Karen whispers, her hand still rubbing his back. "We're with you." Chip watches as his father's sobs echo in the room, each one a heartbreaking testament to the weight he carries. "You're not alone," he whispers, his voice tiny in the face of Plankton's distress. The words tumble from Plankton's mouth, a mix of Karen's soothing tones and his own raw pain. "It's o-okay, P-Plankton," he repeats, his voice broken. "It's o-okay." Karen's eyes well up too, but she remains steadfast. She's seen this before. "Tck tck tck," Plankton says, his body convulsing with each sob. "You don't have t-to tck tck hide it-t." Karen nods, her thumb brushing away a tear. "It's okay," she whispers. "We love you just as you are." Plankton's sobs turn into hiccups, his antennae twitching. "It's okay, Plankton," he says, his voice mimicking hers. Karen's hand moves in gentle circles on Plankton's back, her eyes never leaving his. "It's okay, Plankton," Karen says. "You're safe here." Plankton's sobs subside slightly. Karen nods. "That's right," she whispers. "Your sounds, your tics, they're part of you." Chip watches. He's never seen his dad so vulnerable. "But... but why?" he asks. Karen takes a deep breath. "His autism, Chip," she says. "It's like his brain has its own language, and when he's overwhelmed, it comes out." Plankton's tics become less erratic, his breathing even. "It's okay, Dad," Chip says, his voice trembling. "You're not alone." Karen smiles sadly. "He knows that, Chip," she says. "But sometimes, his brain just needs to speak its own words." Plankton's eye meets his wife's, the panic receding slightly as Chip watches.

(◍•ᴗ•◍)❤

＃ＫｎｅｅＳｕｒｇｅｒｙ pt. 6 Sandy heads to the kitchen, her steps slow and deliberate. Karen follows, giving her a quick hug. "It's okay," she whispers. "He'll come around." Sandy nods, her voice shaking. "I hope so." In the living room, Plankton's leg throbs under the weight of the cast, a constant reminder of his new limitations. Karen joins him, handing him a pillow. "Here," she says softly. "This should help." He takes it, his antennae twitching slightly as he adjusts his position on the couch. Sandy emerges from the kitchen, her eyes red-rimmed but her smile firmly in place. "Snacks," she says, setting a plate on the coffee table. Plankton nods, his eye half-closed. "Thank you," he murmurs, his voice softening. Sandy swallows hard, the hurt from his earlier outburst still raw. Karen sits beside him, her hand on his shoulder. "I know you're frustrated," Karen says gently. "But Sandy worries for you." Plankton nods, his antennae drooping. "I know," he says, unable to find the words. Sandy takes a deep breath, her gaze on the floor. "I'm sorry for...everything." Her voice cracks. Plankton's eye opens fully, his expression softening. "I know, Sandy. I know." Karen squeezes his hand. "We all do." Sandy's smile is sad. "But I'm fine," he insists, his voice strained. "Just tired." Sandy nods. Karen sits quietly, her hand still on his shoulder, providing silent support as Plankton's eye closes again. The room is still, the only sound the occasional crunch of a chip. Sandy clears her throat. "Is there anything else I can do?" Her voice is tentative, hopeful. Plankton's antennae twitch. "No." He doesn't open his eye. "Just let me rest." Sandy nods, her face a mask of regret. Karen sighs, watching as her husband's chest rises and falls with his deep breaths. She knows his stubbornness will keep him from admitting his pain, but she also knows his limits, the tension in the room slowly dissipating as Plankton begins to doze. The doorbell rings, breaking the silence. Sandy jumps, startled. Karen looks at the clock. It's Mr. Krabs, arriving to see why his rival Plankton hasn't tried to steal his secret recipe. Her heart sinks. This could be bad timing. "I'll get it," Sandy says, quickly moving to the door. Karen nods, her hand still on Plankton's shoulder. She whispers, "Remember, love, we're here for you." Sandy opens the door to find Mr. Krabs, his eyes wide with surprise. "What happened to Plankton?" he asks, his voice a mix of concern and suspicion. "I've not seen him in a while; must be planning something big.." Karen sighs, her gaze flicking to her sleeping husband as Mr. Krabs comes in. "Plankton had an accident," she says, her voice measured. "He broke his leg." Mr. Krabs' expression morphs from suspicion to shock. "What? No way!" Karen nods, keeping her voice low. "It's true. He's in recovery." Sandy's eyes dart to Plankton, now snoring softly on the couch. Mr. Krabs approaches his sleeping rival, eyes narrowing. "What's that on his leg?" "It's a cast," Karen explains, her tone even. "He's going to need help for a few weeks." Mr. Krabs' claws clench, his suspicion clear. Krabs looks at the cast skeptically. "Well, if he's out of commission, then I suppose we can call a temporary truce," he says. Karen nods. "That would be kind of you." Sandy smiles weakly. "He's not the enemy right now," she murmurs, her eyes on Plankton. Mr. Krabs seems to consider this, his gaze lingering on Plankton's sleeping form. "Fine," he says gruffly. Karen sighs with relief, guiding Mr. Krabs to a chair. "Thank you. I know this isn't easy for him to accept." Sandy nods in agreement. "He's always so independent." Mr. Krabs grumbles, but his eyes soften. "He's a tough little feller." As they sit in the living room, the sound of Plankton's snores punctuating the silence, Mr. Krabs notices drool slowly seeping from the corner of Plankton's mouth as his snores grow louder. "Looks like he's out cold," Mr. Krabs says. "Is he okay?" "He's fine," Karen reassures him. "Just sleeping. It's part of his healing process." Mr. Krabs clears his throat, his expression unreadable. "Well, if he's not going to be a problem for a while, I suppose I can spare time to help." Sandy's eyes widen, hopeful. Karen's smile is genuine. "That would be wonderful, Mr. Krabs. We could really use the extra hands." Mr. Krabs nods, his claws tapping the arm of the chair. "But I'm not cooking, got it?" They all chuckle softly, the tension easing slightly. "I can't believe he's out for the count," he murmurs, almost to himself, when Plankton's drool forms a small puddle on the couch. "Uhm," Krabs says, "Plankton is gonna need to be cleaned up." Karen nods, not wanting to wake her husband. Sandy jumps up to help, but Krabs stops her. "No, no," he says gruffly. "Let me—" But before he can finish, Plankton's snores turn into a low moan. His antennae twitch, his good leg moving slightly. "His pain meds are wearing off," Karen whispers. Sandy quickly grabs the water and pills from the side table, handing them to Karen. Karen gets the water and pills, moving to Plankton's side. She gently shakes his shoulder. "Honey," she says softly. "It's time for your medicine." Plankton's eye flickers open, his expression a mix of pain and irritation as he sees Mr. Krabs. "What are you doing here?" he grumbles, his voice thick with sleep and pain. Mr. Krabs coughs, his claws raising in a defensive gesture. "Just came to check on the...competition," he says, his voice trailing off as he looks at the cast. Sandy and Karen exchange a nervous glance. Plankton's antennae twitch with annoyance. "I don't need your pity," he says through gritted teeth, his pain evident. Mr. Krabs' eyes narrow. "Pity? Pah! I'm just making sure you're not plotting anything, while you're...drooling." Plankton's face flushes when he puts his hand to his mouth, realizing he's been drooling in his sleep. He wipes at his mouth quickly before taking the pills and water. "Thanks," he mutters, his voice gruff. Karen helps him sit up more comfortably, his leg propped on the pillow. Mr. Krabs clears his throat, looking slightly embarrassed. "Well, I've got a...uh, question," he says. Sandy and Karen exchange another look, but Plankton seems too tired to care. "What is it?" he asks, his patience wearing thin. Mr. Krabs shifts in his chair. "I was wondering if, during your...ahem, cast, if you broke your leg, what'd they do to it before putting it in a cast?" Sandy's eyes widen slightly, but she remains silent, allowing Plankton to answer. Plankton sighs, his antennae drooping. "They had to use some kind of special bone glue," he says, his tone weary. "And now I've got this monstrosity on me for six weeks." Mr. Krabs' eyes go wide. "Bone glue?" he repeats. "No way! What did it look like?" Plankton groans, his frustration clear. "I s'pose it looked like... glue," he says, his voice trailing off. "Whaddya mean you s'pose? You were there!" Krabs asks. "How'd it..." Plankton cuts him off, his antennae standing tall. "It was a blur," he snaps. "You were asleep, weren't you?" Sandy says, earning her a glare from Plankton. Mr. Krabs, however, seems even more fascinated, his curiosity of Plankton piqued. "How'd that work?" he asks, his claws tapping nervously. "I mean, they just put you out? But what did it feel like? Did you feel them sticking your bones together, or...?" Plankton sighs, frustrated/angry, his antennae drooping. "They put me under, okay?" he says, his voice tight. "I don't know what it felt like." "But you were there!" Krabs insists. "W---" "I SAID I DON'T KNOW!" Plankton shouts, his pain and irritation boiling over. His grip on the pillow tightens, knuckles white. Karen's eyes widen, and Sandy takes a step back, alarmed. "I didn't see anything. It was just... nothingness." Mr. Krabs leans back in his chair, his claw steepled under his chin. "Hmm," he says, his voice thoughtful. "And you're sure you weren't dreaming about stealing me secret recipe?" Sandy laughs nervously, trying to diffuse the tension, but Plankton's face turns a deeper shade of red. "I was UNCONSCIOUS," he growls. Mr. Krabs holds up his claws in defense. "Just checking!" he says, his eyes gleaming. "But seriously, what's it like being put under..." "I woke up!" Plankton exclaims, his antennae twitching. "With a giant cast on my leg! I don't remember any dreams. It was just... nothing." Sandy tries to lighten the mood. "Maybe you dreamt about jellyfish," she suggests with a weak smile. Mr. Krabs' eyes light up. "Jellyfish? Did you see an–" "NO!" Plankton snaps. "No dreams, no jellyfish. Just... nothingness." Mr. Krabs seems disappointed but quickly recovers. "Well, if you say so," he says, his tone nonchalant. "But you're sure you didn't see anyth—" "KRABS!" Plankton's voice booms through the room, cutting off his rival's question. "I told you, there was nothing!" His antennae wave in agitation. Mr. Krabs' eyes twinkle with curiosity. "Ah, but what about the after-effects?" he presses on. "You know, those fuzzy thoughts you get when you first wake up? Did y-" But Plankton's patience has reached its limit. "I don't know what you're talking about," he says through clenched teeth. "I just know that I woke up!" Karen steps in, placing a calming hand on Plankton's shoulder. "Krabs, I think we should respect Plankton's space right now," she says firmly. Mr. Krabs nods, his expression slightly chastised. "Right, right," he says, his claws retreating into his pockets. "Sorry, I'll just get going."