A Toothy Story Emojis & Text

Copy & Paste A Toothy Story Emojis & Symbols

A TOOTHY STORY pt. 1 ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ & ꜱᴜʀɢᴇʀʏ "But, why? Karen they're not even hurting or growing in, yet!" "It's preventative, Sheldon; the x-ray showed potential crowding." Karen responds to her husband, Plankton. It's the night before his wisdom teeth extraction, and she knew he's nervous. Sheldon Plankton sighs, running his tongue over his back molars, feeling the gums where the wisdom teeth lurk beneath the surface. But it does little to distract from the looming dental appointment tomorrow morning. He looks at his wife, Karen, whose screen filled with understanding. She's always been the level-headed one, calming him during their most turbulent times. "Don't worry, sweetheart," Karen says, stroking his forehead gently, "You'll be under anesthesia. You won't feel a thing. It'll be like a little nap, and when you wake up, it'll all be over." They go to bed, as they'll have to get up early. Plankton's always been a light sleeper, usually the last to fall asleep and/or first to wake. The anticipation of the morning's dental procedure keeps him tossing and turning. The digital clock on the nightstand clicks over to 2 AM, its red digits glowing like an accusation. Karen has to take him in three hours... Karen's awake at 4:45. Plankton lay beside her snoring gently. She gently shakes him. "Plankton," she whispers, "it's time to get up." He stirs, groaning softly, eye fluttering open to the dim room. "Ugh.." Karen smiles softly, "Come on, honey, we've got to get going. The sooner we're there, the sooner it's over." With a heavy sigh, Plankton gets up. The drive to the dentist's office is tense and quiet. The soft hum of the car's engine and the occasional streetlight flickering outside are the only sounds that accompany them through the desolate early morning streets. They arrive at the clinic, a modern building with sleek glass walls that reflect the pre-dawn light. Plankton's heart thumps in his chest as he follows Karen inside. The receptionist, a cheery woman named Becky, greets them with a smile that seems almost painfully bright at this hour. "Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Plankton!" she chirps. Plankton nods, trying to match her energy, but his nerves betray him. "You're here for your wisdom teeth, right?" Becky asks, typing away on her keyboard. Plankton nods again, feeling a wave of anxiety wash over him. He's never been a fan of the dentist, but this was a whole new level of dental dread. Karen notices this and squeezes his hand reassuringly. "Don't worry," Becky says, noticing his distress, "Dr. Marlin is the best. And our anesthesia is top-notch. You won't feel a thing." Plankton tries to smile, but it comes out more as a grimace. "You'll be so relaxed you won't even know what's happening. It's like a dreamless sleep. You'll wake up with four less teeth and a much more comfortable mouth!" She leads them through the hallway, the smell of antiseptic strengthening with each step. The walls are adorned with soothing seascape paintings, an obvious attempt to put patients at ease. Plankton's heart rate doesn't decrease, but he appreciates the effort. They enter the surgery room. The chair is more like a recliner. Dr. Marlin, a friendly-looking octopus, enters the room, his tentacles holding a clipboard. "Good morning," he says in a soothing tone. "Ready to get those wisdom teeth out?" Karen kisses him on the forehead and whispers, "You got this." Plankton nods, trying to convince himself. The doctor explains the procedure one last time, his tentacles gesturing to the various tools laid out on the tray. The nurse, a clownfish named Nina, starts to prep him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "We're going to give you something to bite down on to keep your mouth open," Nina says, holding up a plastic mouth prop. It looks like a small version of an L-shaped building block. Plankton nods again. The chair reclines back and the overhead light shines down, casting harsh shadows on the ceiling tiles. Karen squeezes his hand once more before stepping aside as Dr. Marlin and Nina get to work. The anesthesia is administered, and the room starts to blur. Plankton feels his body go slack, the fear giving way to a sudden calm. He hears Karen's voice, faintly, saying, "See you..." And then, darkness. Karen feels his hand go limp in hers as the anesthesia takes hold. She watches as Dr. Marlin's tentacles swirl around Plankton's open mouth. The nurse, Nina, holds a small syringe filled with a clear liquid, which she carefully administers into his gums. Plankton's body relaxes further, and he starts to snore as they prod his numb gums, all while he's remaining asleep. The surgery goes by in a blur for Karen, who sits in the chair next to him, holding his hand. She can hear the sounds of the extraction tools, but she focuses on his peaceful breathing and the steady beep of the heart rate monitor. The room is cool, the sterile smell of the surgery room comforting in its own way. As the extraction begins, Plankton doesn't stir. The doctor's tentacles move with practiced precision, each tug and pull a dance of surgical skill. Nina stands by, her eyes focused on the monitors, ensuring his vital signs remain stable. The first tooth is out. Karen can't help but look away at the sound of bone cracking, despite the doctor's assurance that Plankton can't feel it. Her eyes water, but she quickly wipes the tears away, not wanting to alarm the already unconscious Plankton. She glances at the clock. Only twenty minutes have passed. Dr. Marlin strokes Plankton's antennae. Nina nods along, her attention mostly on Plankton. The second tooth is extracted with slightly more resistance. The doctor's tentacles tug gently, applying the right amount of pressure. Karen squeezes his hand. "It's okay," she whispers, though she's not sure if he can hear. The third tooth is the most stubborn, requiring the use of a pair of forceps that make a sound like a tiny car wreck. Plankton's body jerks slightly but he remains unconscious. The doctor and nurse work in harmony, their movements so swift and coordinated that they almost seem like a dance. The fourth tooth is the quickest to come out, as if it knew it was the last stand and gave up without a fight. Dr. Marlin nods to Nina, who begins to suture Plankton's gums. The needle pierces through the swollen flesh with a sound that makes Karen cringe, but Plankton doesn't react at all. She watches as Nina's nimble fins guide the thread with the care of a master embroiderer, stitching the flaps of gum back together. Plankton's snoring remains steady as they suture his numb gums. Nina's fin deftly weaves the thread, each stitch a silent promise of a pain-free future. The tension in the room slowly dissolves with each completed suture. They use dissolvable stitches, so they use more anesthesia to numb the inside of the gums before stitching them up completely. Dr. Marlin steps back, wiping his tentacles with a towel. "All done," he says with a smile. The doctor rinses Plankton's numb mouth with saline of any excess blood or debris, and Karen notices the transformation: his tense jaw relaxes, his breathing deepens, and his usually active antennae are still, as if he's sunk into the deepest of slumbers.
A TOOTHY STORY pt. 3 Moments later, a groan escapes Plankton as he starts to stir, his eye fluttering open. "Hey, how's it going?" Karen asks him. "Mmm?" he mumbles, his voice thick as his eye flutters. "The surgery's over," she tells him, keeping her voice low and soothing. "We're just waiting for you to wake up properly before we go home." "Mmph," is all that comes out. Karen laughs gently, wiping his numb mouth. Plankton's eye blinks. "W-what?" He slurs. "You're okay," she repeats, smoothing his antennae. "You had your wisdom teeth out. They're all gone. You're in recovery." Plankton tries to speak. "Mmh... mmf... m-much?" Karen chuckles. "You'll feel better soon." Plankton's mouth feels like it's filled with wet cotton. He tries to form words, his tongue clumsy against the numbness. "Wh-wha?" Karen laughs gently, her screen sparkling with love and amusement. "You just had surgery." Plankton blinks, trying to focus. "Gah?" he attempts, his voice barely above a whisper. Karen laughs softly, her hand on his shoulder. "It's okay, just take it easy." "Mmph... m-more?" Plankton slurs. Karen's eyes widen with surprise and laughter. "No, honey, all four are out. You're all done." "Mm-hmm?" He tries again, his voice a mere vibration in his throat. The nurse, Nina, smiles at him, her eyes crinkling with kindness. "You're doing great, Mr. Plankton," she says, her voice a gentle melody that seems to soothe his jumbled thoughts. "Just a little while longer and you'll be feeling more like yourself." He nods, his movements sluggish, his antennae flopping slightly. "Mmh... mmf," he mumbles again, his eye searching hers for clarity. Karen nods and smiles, understanding his unspoken question. "You're okay. The surgery went well. We just need to wait for the anesthesia to wear off." Karen leans in closer, her voice a lifeline in the sea of confusion. "You can't eat solids for a few days. But we've got plenty of smoothies and soups at home. You're going to love it." "K-Karen?" He croaks, his voice barely audible. She nods, smiling, her screen still filled with love and concern. "Wh-what... thine?" He slurs, his speech still slurred by the lingering effects of the anesthesia. Karen glances at the clock on the wall. "It's early," she says. "Don't worry about it." Plankton's antennae twitch, his mind grasping for coherence. "M-morning?" He mumbles, his eyes searching the room. The nurse, Nina, nods, her smile reassuring. "Yep, it's morning. The surgery's done. You're all set, Mr. Plankton." "I... I had... had... had surgery?" he asks, his speech still thick. Karen nods, her smile warm. "Yes, you did. Dr. Marlin said it went really well." "W-where's the... the... the...?" His words are slurred, and he can't quite remember what he was trying to ask. "Hmm?" He says, noticing Becky the receptionist. Karen nods. "The dentist took them out. Your mouth will feel a bit funny for a while, but it's all over." Plankton's eye widen in comprehension, and he attempts to smile, drool escaping his numb lips. "Mmph... m-mouth," he says, his voice a pitiful excuse for speech. Karen laughs, her worry melting into relief. "You're okay," she repeats. "Just give it some time. Your mouth will get back to normal soon." "Mmph... mmf... m-morning Becky," Plankton tries to greet the receptionist as she walks by, his voice barely a whisper. She laughs lightly, her cheerfulness a stark contrast to the post-surgery haze that hangs over him. "Good morning, Mr. Plankton. How are you feeling?" Becky's words float around him like bubbles in the sea, each one popping with a burst of understanding as his mind starts to clear. "Mmh... mm... m-morning," he mumbles. He tries to sit up straighter. Karen helps him, her movements quick and sure. "M-mouth..." Plankton's words are still slurred, but he's trying his best to communicate. The nurse, Nina, laughs gently. "Your mouth will feel funny for a bit," she says, "But it'll get better." Karen watches as Plankton's eyes try to focus on her. "Mmf... home?" he asks, his voice barely a whisper. She nods, smiling. "As soon as you're ready to go." He nods, his antennae waving weakly. The nurse, Nina, checks his vitals one more time before nodding to Becky, the receptionist. "Looks like he's coming around," Becky says, scribbling something on a clipboard. "You guys can go once you're ready."
A TOOTHY STORY pt. 4 Plankton's mind is a swirl of confusion, but he feels the weight of relief in Karen's touch. "Don't worry, Plankton," she says, smiling at him. "You're okay. You just had a little nap." He tries to speak again, his tongue feeling like it's made of marshmallows. "Nap?" he slurs. The nurse, Nina, nods. "You were out cold, Mr. Plankton. We had to wake you up." Plankton's eye widen, and his antennae quiver. "Mm, nap," he mumbles, trying to form sentences through the fog. Karen laughs, her hand still in his. "Yes, a very deep nap. You've had a wisdom tooth extraction, remember?" He nods, his movements sluggish. "Ow...?" he says, his hand reaching up to his mouth. Karen grabs his hand before he can touch the gauze. "No, no," she says, her voice still gentle. "Let them heal. No touching." Nina, the nurse, chuckles. "It's normal for the mouth to feel funny after the surgery. It's all part of the process." Plankton's antennae wiggle, his mind still in a daze. "Mm, funny," he murmurs, trying to form a coherent thought. Karen wipes at his mouth with a tissue, catching the last of his drool. "Don't worry, sweetie, you'll feel better soon," she says, her laughter a gentle melody in the stillness of the room. Nina, the nurse, checks his vitals again. "Looks like you're coming around," she says to Plankton. "Just a bit longer and then we'll get you home." Plankton's mouth moves slowly, his words a jumble. "Tee...th...hurt?" he slurs. Karen shakes her head, smiling despite her own nerves. "No, not yet, Plankton. The numbness will wear off by tomorrow." The nurse, Nina, nods. "He's right, Mr. Plankton. You're all fixed up. No more teeth to worry about." Plankton's eye finally focus on her. "Teef...goog?" he mumbles. Karen nods, her smile growing wider. "Very good," she says. "You did so well." The nurse, Nina, laughs lightly. "It's normal for the mouth to feel weird afterward." Plankton's eye glaze over, his eyelid heavy. He tries to lift his hand to touch his mouth again, but Karen gently holds it back. "Let it be, Plankton. No poking." He looks at her, his gaze confused, a mix of sleepiness and bewilderment. "Tee...th?" he mumbles, his mouth a wet mess of gauze and drool. Karen laughs softly, her eyes shining with affection. "Don't worry, you're okay." Plankton's antennae wave erratically as he tries to sit up again. Nina quickly intervenes, pushing his shoulders back down. "Easy there," she says, "You're not quite ready yet." Karen giggles, enjoying the rare sight of her usually energetic husband so out of sorts. "M-mouth...sho...bith," Plankton slurs, his words a slurred mess. Nina, the nurse, chuckles. "It's the anesthesia, Mr. Plankton." Karen laughs, wiping his mouth with a gentle hand. "It's okay, you're just sleepy. Your mouth will feel normal again soon." Plankton's eye half-closed, his antennae waving lazily. "Karen?" he mumbles. "Tish me?" Karen laughs, her voice like a soothing wave. "It's okay, you're all tucked in." She adjusts his blanket, his body still weak from the anesthesia. Plankton's antennae twitch, his mind swimming in a sea of cotton-like confusion. "Wh-wha...?" he slurs, his eye struggling to stay open. Karen wipes his mouth with a tissue. "You're at the dentist, love. You had your wisdom teeth taken out." "D-denth-tith?" he managed to mumble. Karen laughs, her voice light and airy. "Wisdom teeth, Plankton," she corrects him gently. "They're all gone now. No more worrying." His eye close again, his lashes fluttering. "Wis...them?" he mumbles. "Yeah, the ones that were going to crowd your mouth." The nurse, Nina, laughs. "He's still not with us," she says, shaking her head. Plankton's mouth opens again, and out comes a string of nonsense. "M-m-muffins," he mumbles, his eye still half-closed. Karen's laughter fills the room. "What about muffins?" she asks, playing along. "Firsh...bath thine," he slurs, his thoughts a jumble. Nina, the nurse, can't help but laugh too. "It's the anesthesia," she reminds Karen. "It'll wear off soon." Karen nods, her smile never leaving her face. "I know, I know," she says, wiping at her own tears of mirth. "But he's so adorable like this." Plankton giggles. "How many fingers did the...denth-tith eat?" he asks, his voice a mix of sleepiness and confusion. Karen's laughter fills the room like the chime of a bell. "What are you talking about?" she asks, wiping his mouth. "No fingers, Plankton." "Mm, good," he mumbles, his eye trying to focus. "Becauthe... the denth-tith wike magi...th." Karen's laughter is a warm embrace in the cool, clinical room. "No, Plankton, not magic," she says, "It's just the medicine." He blinks, his eye trying to focus on her. "M-m-magic?" he slurs, his voice a slurred melody. "Tish me." Karen laughs, her hand still in his. "It's not magic, sweetie," she says, her voice like a gentle breeze. "You're just really sleepy." Plankton nods slowly, his eye still not fully open. "M-magic," he murmurs, his voice trailing off. "Tish me more." Karen laughs, her heart warming at his antics. "No more, Plankton," she says, her voice like a melody. "You're all set." Plankton's antennae droop, his voice barely a whisper. "B-but... I wanth moh." His words are slurred, his tongue thick. Karen laughs, her hand still in his. "No more, love," she says, her voice a soft caress. "You're all done. No more teeth to worry about." Plankton's antennae droop even more. "B-but...I wath...wath..." He tries to form words, but his mouth won't cooperate. Karen wipes his mouth again, trying to hide her amusement. "What, sweetie?" she asks, her voice a gentle tease. "What do you want?" "Huh," he murmurs, his eye half-closed. "The denth-tith thad I can eat all the...muf-muf..." his voice fades as his lid flutter shut. Karen giggles, wiping his mouth again. "Muffins?" she asks, her voice a playful dance. "Is that what you want?" Plankton's antennae twitch, his mind still in a haze. "No," he mumbles, his eyelid fighting gravity. "Muff...muf...mu..." his voice trails off as his breathing deepens, his body succumbing to the anesthesia's lingering embrace.
A TOOTHY STORY pt. 5 Karen watches him drift back into sleep, her heart swelling with love. His snores have turned into gentle snuffles, his antennae still occasionally twitching in his sleep. The nurse, Nina, smiles at her. "It's okay, he's just tired," she says. "Let's get him standing." They help Plankton into a sitting position, his body uncooperative and limp. His eye open and close, trying to stay awake. "Pway?" he mumbles again, his voice a sleepy whisper. Karen laughs, her eyes sparkling with affection. "Later, sweetheart, after you're all better." Nina, the nurse, nods. "Let's get you on your feet," she says, offering her fin for support. Plankton wobbles, his legs like jello. Karen takes his other arm, steadying him. "One step at a time," she says, her voice a gentle guide. They shuffle to the door, his feet moving as if through water. His head lolls, his antennae drooping with exhaustion as he falls asleep, but Karen and Nina quickly react, holding him upright. "It's normal for the anesthesia to make him so tired." Nina says over Plankton's snores as he's snoring deeply. Karen nods, her grip firm on his arm. "Let's get you to the car," she says. "Wake up, Plankton. Just a little more." With a snort, Plankton's eye opens again, blinking sleepily. "Wha...?" he says, looking around the room. Karen's smile is like the sun breaking through the clouds. "It's time to go home, sweetie," she says. They make their way to the car, Plankton leaning heavily on Karen's arm. The nurse, Nina, gives them both a nod of encouragement. "Call us if you need anything," she says. The sun is blinding as they walk out of the clinic, its rays piercing through the clouds like a spotlight. Plankton squints, his eye watering. "Hone," he mumbles, his voice a sleepy sigh. Karen laughs, her arm around his waist. "Home, Plankton," she says, her voice like a lullaby. "We're going home now." They reach the car, his legs wobbly as a newborn's. Karen opens the door, guiding him in. Plankton fumbles with the seatbelt, his fingers refusing to cooperate. "Let me," she says, her touch gentle as she secures him in. The drive home is quiet, his snores punctuating the hum of the engine. Karen watches him, his mouth slack, the gauze still in place. "Almost there, Plankton," she says, her voice soothing. The car's smooth movement lulls him further into sleep. Karen sighs, her eyes on the road ahead, her mind racing with thoughts of care and comfort for her recovering husband. When they arrive home, she gently wakes him, his eye fluttering open. "Who...?" he mumbles, his voice a slurry whisper. "It's me, Karen," she says, smiling. "We're home, Plankton." He blinks, his mind still foggy. "Hone?" he repeats, his voice barely audible. Karen nods. "Yes, sweetheart, we're home." They enter their home, the familiar scent of home wrapping around them like a warm embrace. Plankton stumbles, his legs like jelly under him. "Bath-tub," he mumbles, pointing in the direction of their bedroom. Karen laughs, her heart swelling with love for her confused husband. "No, Plankton," she says, her voice a gentle reminder. "Let's get you to the couch." They shuffle through the house, his eye half-closed, his words slurred. "Muff-muff...tub?" he repeats, his thoughts jumbled. Karen laughs, her voice like a warm current in the cool ocean. "No, Plankton, the couch," she says, guiding his unsteady steps. He nods, his antennae drooping. "C-c-couch," he repeats, his words like bubbles rising to the surface. Karen helps him settle, his body collapsing into the plush cushions with a sigh. His snores resume, his mouth open, and drool pooling on the pillow. Plankton's eyes flicker open, his gaze unfocused. "Tish...?" he mumbles, reaching up to touch his mouth. Karen laughs, taking his hand. "No, Plankton," she says, her voice a gentle stream. "Let's keep those hands down." He frowns, his mind a fog. "Whath...whathapened?" he asks, his speech still slurred. Karen smiles, her voice a warm caress. "You had your wisdom teeth taken out, sweetheart." Plankton's eye widens. "B-but...muh...muh..." his words a jumble. Karen giggles with warmth. "What are you trying to say, Plankton?" she asks, her voice sweet as a lullaby. He tries to sit up, his body still groggy. "Baf...baf... baf," he babbles. Karen's laughter is a gentle wave, lapping at the shores of his confusion. "It's okay," she says, her hand a steady rock. "Your mouth is just numb." Plankton's antennae wave weakly, his eye still unfocused. "Mumf?" he mumbles, his voice like a baby's coo. "Mumf?" Karen laughs softly, her heart filled with love and amusement. "What's 'mumf', Plankton?" she asks, her voice a gentle ripple in the sea of his confusion. He blinks, his mouth moving in a silent attempt to form words. "Mumf," he repeats, his voice a sleepy murmur. "Muff...muf..." his words trailing off. Karen laughs, her voice a soothing whisper. "What's 'mumf', sweetheart?" she asks, her eyes twinkling with mirth. Plankton blinks, his antennae twitching. "Nun," he slurs, his mind swimming in a sea of anesthesia. "Why my moufs nun." Karen laughs, her eyes sparkling. "Your mouth is numb, Plankton," she explains, her voice a gentle wave. "It'll wear off by the morning." He nods, his antennae drooping. "Mouf numb," he echoes, his tongue still thick. "Mm...numb." He giggles to himself. "Numb." Karen laughs, her voice like the tinkling of a bell. "Yes, Plankton, your mouth is numb," she says, her words a gentle soothing rain. "It's from the surgery." Plankton's antennae perk up, his eye finally focusing. "Sur...surg... surgery?" he asks, his voice a tentative question. Karen nods, wiping at his drool with a tissue. "It's okay, you're all done now." He giggles, his words a slur. "Sur...surgery," he repeats, his mind still in a haze. Karen smiles, her voice a gentle lullaby. "Wisdom teeth," she says, "They're out, and you're all better." Plankton nods, his antennae twitching with curiosity. "Tweef?" he mumbles, his tongue thick. Karen nods, her voice like a gentle wave. "Yes, sweetie," she says, "The doctor took your big teef out." He giggles again, his mind still foggy. "Big...big teef," he says, his voice a babyish coo. "Tweef." Karen laughs, her voice a soothing breeze. "Yes, Plankton, your big teeth are gone." "How many fing-- fingers awe you holding up?" He asks, but looking at his own hand. Karen laughs, her voice a delightful chime in the quiet room. "I'm not holding up any fingers, Plankton." Plankton's antennae twitch, his eye still unfocused. "But...but..." his words trail off as he tries to process her response. "That's your hand, not mine!" She laughs. Plankton giggles, his eye half-closed. "M-mine?" he asks, his voice a sleepy mumble. Karen nods, her smile never leaving her face. "Yes, love, your hand." He looks down at his hand, his fingers splayed. "Twee," he murmurs, his voice a slurred whisper. "Two big teef gone." Karen laughs, her voice gentle as she shakes her head. "All four wisdom teethies." Plankton blinks, his mind clearing slightly. "Oh," he says, his voice a soft wave. "Twee big teefies." Karen nods, her eyes sparkling with humor. "Yes, Plankton, all your wisdom teeth are out." He giggles, his speech still slurred. "Widom...teefies," he mumbles. "Widom." Karen laughs, her heart warm with love. "That's right," she says, her voice a gentle current. "Wisdom teethies." Plankton's antennae droop again, his eye heavy with sleep. "M-more?" he asks, his voice like a sleepy drone. Karen smiles, her voice a soothing melody. "No more, sweetie," she says, stroking his antennas. "You're all done."
pls note the ai inflicts emotional damage (ᵕ—ᴗ—)
AI Story Generator
completely free, NO signup required (ever), and unlimited!
A TOOTHY STORY pt. 6 Plankton's eye closes, his breathing deepens into snores. Karen watches him for a moment, his chest rising and falling in the rhythm of sleep. "You're okay," she whispers, her voice a soft ripple in the quiet room. "You're safe now." Her words hang in the air, a comforting lullaby, when Karen's friend Hanna unexpectedly arrives. "Karen?" Hanna's voice is a splash of cold water, jolting Karen to the present. She quickly wipes Plankton's mouth and stands up, turning to face her friend. "Is everything alright?" Hanna's eyes widen, noticing Karen's husband Plankton on the couch, his mouth open, snoring softly. Karen laughs nervously. "Oh, yes," she says, her voice a bit too high. "Just a little... dental procedure." Hanna looks with concern. "My place is getting a remodel, I don't know where else to stay..." she asks, her eyes scanning Plankton's sleeping form. Karen nods, her smile reassuring. "Of course, you can stay here," she says, her voice a warm embrace. "The spare room's good." Hanna looks at Plankton, still snoring peacefully. "Is he okay?" she whispers. "I know I've never personally met him.." Karen nods, her voice a whisper. "Yes, he's fine," she says, her hand on his forehead. "Just sleepy." Hanna's eyes flicker with concern. "What happened?" she asks, her voice a soft ripple of curiosity. Karen hesitates, her hand still resting on Plankton's head. "It's nothing to worry about," she says, her voice a gentle breeze. "Just a little dental work." Hanna nods, her eyes studying Plankton. "Is he going to be okay?" she whispers, her voice a soft ripple of concern. "Why's he tired?" Karen sighs, her smile slightly forced. "It's just... part of the process," she says, avoiding the mention of teeth. "They had to give him some medicine to help him sleep." Hanna nods, her gaze still on Plankton. "He seems so peaceful," she says, her voice a soft caress. "What was it for?" Karen's smile is tight. "Everything is just fine, Hanna. He might not want me to say much without his permission." Hanna nods, understanding. "Of course, I didn't mean to pry." She looks around the room. "It's just, I've never seen anyone sleep so... peaceful?" Karen laughs softly, her voice a gentle ripple. "It's the medicine," she says. "They had to give him something to relax." Hanna nods, her gaze lingering on Plankton's sleeping form. Karen decides it's time to wake him, gently shaking his shoulder. "Plankton," she whispers, her voice a soft nudge. "Wake up, sweetheart." Plankton's eye opens with a start, his antennae shooting up. "Whath...whathapened?" he mumbles, his speech still slurred. Karen laughs, her voice a warm embrace. "We need to get you into bed," she says, her eyes twinkling with love. "My friend Hanna came, and she'll stay in the guest room." Plankton blinks, his antennae waving erratically. "Han-Han?" he mumbles, his voice a slurred song. "Whaths...whaths?" Hanna waves, her smile genuine. "Hi, Plankton," she says. "Nice to meet you.." But Plankton, still groggy, mumbles incoherently, his eye half-closed. "Muff...muff...muffins," he says, his tongue thick. Karen laughs, her voice a warm laugh. "It's okay, sweetheart, you're just tired," she says, guiding him to his feet. He sways, his body still under the anesthesia's spell. "Muff...muffins," he repeats, his voice a sleepy mumble. Karen rolls her eyes, her smile a gentle curve. "No muffins," she says, her voice a soothing wave. "It's night.." His antennae droop, his mind a jumbled mess. "B-but... you promithed..." he slurs, his eye struggling to focus. Karen laughs, her voice a warm caress. "Oh, Plankton," she says, helping him to the bedroom. They reach the bed, and she helps him lie down, his body collapsing onto the mattress. "Just sleep, love," she whispers, her hand stroking his. Hanna watches from the doorway, her smile a mix of amusement and concern. "Is he going to be okay?" she asks again. Karen nods, her voice a reassuring lullaby. "Yes, just rest is what he needs," she says. "It'll will wear off completely in the morning; we all need our sleep." But Plankton, not quite ready to drift away, reaches his arms out. "Pweath...picture," he mumbles, his hand reaching for Hanna's. Hanna, surprised by his sudden request, pulls out her phone, the screen a bright beacon in the dim room. "A selfie?" she whispers, her voice a questioning bubble. Karen nods, her eyes twinkling with mirth. "I'll get you gauze first," she says, helping him sit up slightly. Hanna, unsure but willing, holds out her phone, the screen glowing with potential. "Ready?" she asks, her voice a soft whisper. Plankton nods, his antennae bobbing. Karen carefully places the gauze pads in Plankton's mouth, his eye widening slightly at the unexpected sensation. "Now," she says, her voice a gentle prompt. "There." Hanna holds the phone steadily, the camera lens a tiny window into their world. Plankton's arm wraps around her shoulder, his antennae sticking out like party horns. "Cheeese," he mumbles through the gauze, his voice slurred but earnest. The flash goes off, illuminating the room briefly. Hanna looks at the photo, her smile warm. "You got it, Plankton," she says, handing him the phone. His eye squints, trying to focus on the screen. Karen laughs softly, watching them from the bedside. "You two are adorable," she says, her voice a gentle tease. Plankton looks at her, his mouth still full of gauze. With a thumbs up from Plankton, Hanna posts the selfie, the image of their smiles and Plankton's comical gauze-filled grin floating into the digital abyss of her social media feed. The caption reads: "Visiting Karen! Featuring @ Plankton 😂🦷💊" The notification sounds chime through the quiet room, a digital symphony of likes and laughing emojis. Plankton's eye widen, his antennae perking up. "What's that?" he asks, his voice a groggy whisper. Hanna laughs. "Everyone thinks you're cute. Now I gotta get some rest myself!" Plankton's antennae droop, his eye heavy with sleep. "M-more...m-muffins?" he asks, his voice a slurred plea. Karen laughs, her voice a warm hug. "No more, Plankton," she says, placing a kiss on his forehead. "You need to sleep now." Plankton closes his eye, succumbing to the gentle pull of sleep. Karen and Hanna watch him for a moment, his snores the only sound in the quiet room. Hanna's smile is warm. "He's so cute," she whispers. They both watch as Plankton's snores fill the room, his body finally at peace. Hanna's concern fades into curiosity. "What's with the muffins?" she asks, her voice a whisper. Karen giggles, her hand still on his. "It's just the remnants of meds talking," she says, her voice a gentle wave. "He'll be himself in the morning." She stands up, her movements smooth as a dolphin's. "Let's get you settled in the guest room now.."
A TOOTHY STORY pt. 3 Nina nods in approval, their eyes meeting for a brief moment before she turns back to the monitors. "Just a few more minutes," she assures, adjusting the gauze in his mouth. The doctor speaks up. "Let's get him into recovery. We'll keep an eye on him there." Two burly starfish, who must be orderlies, come in with a wheelchair. They gently lift Plankton's slack body, transferring him from the surgical chair to the wheelchair. Karen watches as they wrap a comfortable blanket around him, tucking it under his chin. His head lolls to the side, his drool-slicked mouth open as he snores softly. Karen follows, her hand in his. The recovery room is quiet, dimly lit to reduce any stimulation that could cause discomfort. Plankton's snores fill the space, echoing off the walls. The nurse, Nina, checks his vital signs and nods to Karen. "You can stay with him. Just keep talking to him, it'll help him wake up." Karen takes a seat next to his chair, holding his hand. "Plankton, wake up," she says gently, but there's no response. She tries again, a little louder. "Wake up, it's time to go home." The nurse, Nina, smiles as she lifts him up from the wheelchair. They move him to the recovery bed, the soft pillows cradling his head. His eye remain closed, and his breathing is still slow and steady. Karen sits beside him, her heart racing. "You did it," she whispers, "You're so strong." Nina, the nurse, checks his monitors. "Looks good," she says. "Just a bit longer, and he'll be ready to wake up." Karen nods, stroking his hand. She looks at Plankton's face, serene in sleep, and whispers, "Wake up, sweetheart. We're almost done here." Still no response. The nurse, Nina, checks his vitals one more time. "His body's just taking its time to metabolize the medication. Give him a moment." The room is quiet except for the rhythmic beep of the heart monitor and the occasional snore from Plankton. Karen watches his chest rise and fall, his antennae twitching slightly. She squeezes his hand, willing him to wake up. The nurse, Nina, notices Karen's anxiety. "It's okay," she says, "Sometimes the anesthesia can take a little longer to wear off. He'll be fine. Just keep talking to him." Karen nods and leans closer, her voice a gentle hum. "We're almost there, Plankton," she says, her eyes never leaving his still form. She can see his chest rising and falling. The drool has slowed, yet his mouth is still open slightly. The nurse, Nina, checks the clock. "It's been about twenty minutes. He should start to come around now." Karen nods with a mixture of relief and anticipation. "Wake up, Plankton," she whispers, squeezing his hand a little tighter. The beeping of the heart monitor remains a steady metronome in the background, a comforting reminder that he's okay. Plankton's snores start to become less pronounced. A faint groan escapes him as his body starts to shift. Karen leans closer, her voice a soft chant of encouragement. "Wake up, honey, wake up." The nurse, Nina, nods in approval. "Good, keep it up. It'll help him wake up gently." Karen's voice is a soothing whisper in the quiet room. "Plankton," she repeats, "You're almost there. Time to wake up." His snores taper off, and his body starts to twitch slightly. Karen's eyes light up, hope flickering like the fluorescent lights above them. The nurse, Nina, watches the monitors intently. "Good, his body's starting to respond." Karen nods, her heart racing as Plankton's snores grow quieter. His eyelids flutter, and for a moment, she thinks he might be waking up. But his body relaxes again, and the snores resume, though softer. "Plankton," she calls out, her voice a gentle caress in the stillness of the room. "Wake up, love," she whispers, her voice a sweet song of comfort. The nurse, Nina, checks the monitors again, her expression calm. "It's okay," she assures Karen, "Sometimes the body needs more time to come out of the anesthesia." Karen nods, stroking his hand. "Wake up, Plankton," she whispers, her voice filled with gentle urgency. "We're all done here. Time to go home." His chest continues to rise and fall, his antennae still and his snores soft and steady. "You've got this, Plankton," she whispers. "Wake up." The nurse, Nina, watches the monitors closely, her fins poised. "He's waking up," Nina murmurs. Karen's glued to Plankton's face. His eye finally opens, but glazed over, unfocused. She squeezes his hand. "Plankton?" He blinks slowly, his antennae twitching as if trying to shake off the cobwebs of sleep. His mouth moves, but only garbled sounds come out. "Mmph... wha...?" he mumbles, his tongue thick in his mouth. Karen smiles, her heart swelling with relief. "You're okay," she says, wiping his drool with a tissue. Plankton's eye slowly focus on her, confusion swirling in their depths. "Wheh?" he slurs, his voice thick and sluggish. Nina, the nurse, chuckles softly. "It's the medication," she explains. "He'll be a bit out of it." Karen laughs lightly, her relief palpable. "It's okay, sweetheart," she says, her voice like a warm blanket. "You're at the dentist. You had your wisdom teeth removed." Plankton blinks again, his eyes focusing on her. "W-what?" he asks, his voice still slurred. Nina, the nurse, nods. "It's normal. The anesthesia can make you groggy." Karen smiles, her voice soft as a lullaby. "You had your wisdom teeth removed. Do you remember?" Plankton blinks again, his eyes finally focusing on her face. "T-teeth?" he mumbles, his mind swimming in the fog of the anesthesia. His mouth feels full, the gauze pressing against his numb gums like a soggy cotton ball. "Yes, your wisdom teeth," Karen says, her voice still soothing. "They're all out." Plankton's eye widen, and he tries to sit up, but the nurse, Nina, gently pushes his shoulders back down. "Easy, Mr. Plankton," she says. Karen laughs softly, her hand on his shoulder. "You're still woozy from the anesthesia." Plankton tries to speak, but it's as if his tongue is too large for his mouth. "W-wis...what?" Karen laughs, the sound musical in the quiet recovery room. "They took your wisdom teeth out, Plankton. Remember?" He blinks, his eye finally focusing on her. "Teef?" he slurs, his voice like a tired child's. The nurse, Nina, chuckles again. "It's okay," she says.
A TOOTHY STORY pt. 7 The next morning, the anesthesia's completely worn off. Plankton wakes to find himself drooling on his pillow, the gauze in his mouth a soggy mess. His eye opens. Wincing as he wiped his mouth, he took out his now pink gauze. "Wha’ happened?" He says. Karen's smile is a gentle wave. "I had my wisdom teeth out, right? I remembe--- I held your hand Karen. I was in a chair, then somehow in a bed.." Karen nods, her voice a soothing symphony. "Yes, that was yesterday.." Plankton's antennae twitch with realization. "Y-yesterday?" he asks, his voice a sleepy whisper. "But...but what happened?" Karen laughs, her voice a gentle lullaby. "You had your wisdom teeth out," she says, her fingers tracing his cheek. "Do you remember the clinic?" "Yes, Karen," Plankton rolls his eye; "I don't know what happened after leaving to go home.." Karen nods, smiling; there's her snappy husband! "It's normal," she says. "The anesthesia can make your memory fuzzy." Plankton's eye widens. He tries to sit up, but his body is still a ragdoll's. "What...what did I do?" he asks, his voice a slurred mess. Karen helps him, her smile a gentle lullaby. "You were just tired, sweetheart," she says, seeing Hanna come to the doorway. "My friend Hanna's here because her home is being worked on." Hanna waves, her smile a warm beacon. "Hi, Plankton," she says. "What‽ But Karen, remember she gave you that virus..." "It's okay, Plankton," she says, her voice a gentle whisper. "That was in the past." Hanna nods, her smile soft. "I promise, I'm all better now," she says. "How you feeling?" Plankton's antennae twitch, his eye still foggy. "F-fine," he mumbles, his voice a murmur. Karen helps him sit up, the pillows propping him up like a soft fortress. "Do you remember wanting muffins?" Hanna asks, her voice a soft reminder. Plankton's antennae wave wildly. "M-muffins?" he asks, his memory a distant tide. Karen nods, her laughter a warm sunrise. "Yes, you talked about them a lot last night," she says, her eyes twinkling. "But it's okay, you were just a bit loopy from the surgery." Plankton blinks. "Loopy?" he asks, his voice a tentative wave. Karen nods, her smile a comforting breeze. "It's normal, sweetie. The medicine made you feel funny." Hanna's eyes sparkle with mischief. "You were quite the character," she says, her voice a gentle tease. Plankton feels his face heat up, his antennae drooping with embarrassment. He doesn't remember a thing from the night before, but the laughter and smiles from Karen and Hanna tell a story he clearly missed. "How's your mouth?" Hanna asks, her voice a concerned ripple. "Karen told me you went to the dentist.." Plankton's antennae twitch, his mind racing to catch up. "It's...it's fine," he mumbles, his voice a tentative whisper. The reality of his surgery sinking in, he gently touches his cheeks, feeling the swollen mounds where his teeth once were. But Hanna's curious about what this procedure was. "So, Plankton," she starts, her voice a gentle wave, "What was it like at the dentist?" He blinks, his mind still a bit hazy. "It...it was okay," he mumbles, his tongue poking at the empty sockets. "I don't know.." Hanna nods, her smile sympathetic. "It must have hurt," she says, her voice a soft caress. "What did they do?" Plankton's antennae droop, his eye flashing with annoyance. "I don't remember," he grumbles, his voice a stormy sea. "But I'm sure it wasn't as fun as you seem to think it was." Hanna's smile fades, her eyes full of understanding. "I'm sorry," she says, her voice a gentle current. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I just wondered what procedure you had done." He can't believe he's talking about his dental woes to a stranger. Plankton's antennae stiffen, his body tense. "Why do you ask about the dentist?" his voice a snappy bubble. Karen's eyes widen, her smile fading. "Plankton," she says, her voice a soft warning. "It's okay, Hanna's just curious." Hanna's smile falters, her voice a gentle retreat. "I didn't mean to pry," she says, stepping back. "I just..." But Plankton, his emotions a swirling maelstrom, waves his hand dismissively. "I don't want to talk about it," he says, his voice a firm tide. "It's none of your concern." Hanna's smile falters, her cheeks flushing with the sting of his words. "I'm sorry," she whispers, her voice a retreating wave. "I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable." Karen's eyes flicker with concern, her voice a gentle reminder. "Plankton, Hanna's just trying to be nice," she says, her hand on his arm. "It's okay to talk.." But Plankton's antennae are like two flaming torches, his voice a harsh wave. "I said I don't want to talk about it," he snaps, his eye a stormy gray. "Please leave." Hanna's smile fades, her eyes like ripples of sadness in a tranquil pond Karen sighs, her heart a tiny boat adrift in a sea of confusion. "Plankton," she starts, her voice a soft lapping wave. "You don't have to be so harsh." Plankton's antennae droop, his eye still stormy. "I just want to be left alone," he mumbles, his voice a defensive ripple. "I don't understand why she needs to know about my mouth." Karen sighs, her voice a gentle reminder. "Plankton, she's my friend," she says. "And she's just staying here temporarily." Plankton's antennae quiver with frustration. "I know, Karen," he snaps, his voice a jagged coral. "But I don't know her.." Hanna's eyes shimmer with hurt, her smile a sad reflection. "I didn't mean to intrude," she says, her voice a quiet ripple. But Plankton's anger is a tidal wave, crashing into the room. "You're not my friend!" he says, his voice a snappy slap. "I don't owe you any explanations!" Hanna's smile dissolves, her eyes a murky ocean. "I'm sorry," she whispers, her voice a retreating tide. "I didn't mean to upset you." Plankton's antennae quiver with agitation, his voice a harsh squall. "Is that too much to ask?" Hanna nods, her smile evaporating like sea foam. "Of course," she murmurs, her voice a retreating wave. "I'll just..." But Karen's voice stops her, a gentle lagoon in the storm. "Hanna, wait," she says, her tone a calming current. "Plankton, you need to apologize." He turns to her, his antennae quivering with anger. "Why?" he asks, his voice a jagged rock. "She's not my friend!" Karen's eyes are like calm pools, her voice a gentle reminder. "You're upset, Plankton," she says. "But that's not fair to Hanna." His antennae droop, his voice a begrudging rumble. "Fine," he mumbles, his words a forced apology. "I'm sorr-" But Hanna's smile is a soft wave, her voice a gentle reminder. "It's okay, Plankton," she says, her eyes like two calm pools. "You are in pain, and you were exhausted last night.." Plankton's antennae droop. "What do you mean," he demands, remembering nothing. "Exhausted? Hanna, what..." Hanna's smile is sad. "It's okay," she says, her voice a gentle wave retreating from the shore. "You fell asleep; you were snoring..." Plankton's antennae stiffen, his eye narrows. "I...snored?" he says, his voice a mix of disbelief and embarrassment. "But Karen, I don't snore!" Hanna laughs, not knowing Plankton any better. "You certainly do," she says, her eyes twinkling. "It's adorable, really." Plankton's antennae flicker with agitation. "I don't," he insists, his voice a sharp wave. "I never snore." Hanna's laugh is a soothing sea breeze. "You did, Plankton," she says, her eyes sparkling. "It was quite... entertaining." But Plankton's frustration boils like a volcano. "No!" he says, his voice a harsh crash of waves. "I don't snore!" Karen, however, knew her husband well enough. "Plankton," she says, her hand on his. "You do sometimes when you're tired." His antennae quiver with disbelief. "But not really," he argues, his voice a stubborn wave. "I'm not a...a snorer!" Karen's eyes are like a calm sea, her voice a gentle reminder. "You do when you're exhausted, Plankton," she says, her hand a comforting current against his. "And after surgery, you were pretty tired, not to mention numb.." Hanna nods, her voice a soft chuckle. "You had us laughing, Plankton," she says, her eyes twinkling with mirth. "You're so funny when you're sleepy." But Plankton isn't finding it funny. Karen steps in. "Hanna, let's give Plankton some space," she says, her hand on Hanna's arm. "He's still recovering." Hanna nods, her smile a sad wave retreating from the shore. "Of course, Karen," she says. "I'm sorry." Karen's eyes are like two moons, calming the stormy sea. "It's okay," she says. She turns to Plankton. "I know you're uncomfortable, sweetheart," she says, her voice a gentle lapping tide. "But Hanna didn't mean any harm. We'll let you alone, but let me know if you need anything." She sets books and his phone on the bedside table before leaving the room with Hanna.
A TOOTHY STORY pt. 8 Outside the door, Hanna's smile is a sad reflection of the sea. "I'm sorry," she says, her voice a quiet ripple. "I didn't mean to upset him." Karen's eyes are like a calm lagoon, her voice a soothing tide. "It's not your fault, Hanna," she says. "He's just in pain and tired, and he's more of an introvert. Let's give him space." They move to the living room, their voices a gentle murmur of whispers. Plankton, alone with his thoughts, feels his cheeks burn with embarrassment. He can't believe he snored, let alone in front of someone. He tries to sit up again, but the pain in his jaw reminds him of the surgery. The books and phone on the nightstand beckon like distant lighthouses in a foggy night. He picks up the phone, his thumbs fumbling over the screen. He decides to check his social media, to find he's tagged by @ Hanna in a post.. He views it to find the selfie he doesn't even know existed. "What in barnacles.." He's drooling in the picture with gauze in his swelling cheeks, up next to Hanna. "Visiting Karen! Featuring @ Plankton 😂🦷💊" Hanna put as the caption. Plankton's antennae quiver with a mix of embarrassment and curiosity as he goes to the comment section. The first one's from @ Squilliam : "Looks like someone had a tooth extraction party and forgot to send me an invite 😂" Plankton's antennae quiver with irritation. "Who is this guy?" he grumbles, his voice a distant thunder. The next one's from @ LarryLobster: "😂 I know that feel, bro. Get well soon!" Plankton's eye narrows, his antennae twitching. Then @ Patrick : "You look so funny, Plankton! 😂😂" One from @SpongeBob: "Oh no, Plankton! Hope you feel better soon, buddy! 💛" It's a small comfort, sweet but it's not enough to soothe his pride and doesn't help his embarrassment. Another one from @ Dennis : "What happened to you, Plankton? 😂" Plankton's antennae stiffen with indignation. "I've had surgery!" he wants to shout at the screen. One from @ Squidward : "Looks like someone's been to the dentist! 😂 Get well, Plankton! Maybe you'll stop stealing Krabby Patties!" Plankton's antennae quiver with frustration. "This is not funny, did I agree to that picture?" he mutters to himself. He scrolls down, seeing a comment from @ Mrs. Puff: "Oh, you poor thing! I've been there too! 😢 Take care of yourself, Plankton!" Plankton's antennae droop slightly. Then @ Pearl Krabs: "You look like you had more fun than me at prom 💃😂 Get well soon, Mr. Plankton!" This one stings a bit more, as Plankton thinks of Mr. Krabs and their complicated relationship. He sees one from @SandyCheeks: "Aw, Plankton, I hope you're feeling better! Surgery's a tough nut to crack, even for a tiny guy like you! 💪💃" Plankton's antennae twitch with a tiny spark of gratitude. At least Sandy had some empathy. He reads more, his eye flicking over the various reactions to his post- surgery selfie. A comment from @MrKrabs catches his eye, his antennae shooting up. "Looks like you're out of commission for a bit, eh, Plankton 💸👑" Plankton's cheeks burn with a combination of anger and embarrassment. That sneaky crab! But amidst the sea of joking remarks, he finds a comment that makes his antennae wiggle with surprise. It's from @KarenPlankton. "My brave @ Plankton had wisdom teeth out, and it's going to be just fine. When he woke up, I was here, holding his hand, and he was so sweet. Love 💋💕💋" Okay, then. Despite his embarrassment, he feels a surge of affection for Karen. She had been there through it all so he can't get to mad at her. Yet why she felt the need to share his post surgery face with the entire ocean... He's always been so meticulous about his image, and now it's splattered across the digital seabed. He sighs, setting the phone aside. He's too tired to dwell on it. He gently presses a cold pack to his cheek. The door opens with a soft creak, and Karen's voice is a soothing lullaby. "How are you feeling, Plankton?" He sighs, his antennae drooping. "I'm fine," he mumbles, his voice a sleepy wave. "Just...tired." Hanna peeks in, her smile a warm ray of sunshine. "Can I bring you anything?" she asks, her voice a gentle caress. Plankton's antennae twitch, his eye narrowing slightly. "No, thank you," he says, his voice a polite wave. "I'm okay." Karen nods, her smile a comforting sunrise. "Alright, just call if you need anything," she says, her voice a gentle reminder. "Rest is key." Plankton nods, his antennae flopping with fatigue. "I will," he murmurs. "Thank you." The door closes with a soft click, leaving him alone with his thoughts and the cold comfort of the pack on his swollen cheek. He closes his eye, letting out a deep breath. The house is like a quiet reef, the only sounds the faint distant murmur of Karen and Hanna's conversation. Plankton's mind is a whirlpool, thoughts swirling around the surgery, the embarrassing selfie, and the unwelcome reminder of his vulnerability. He decides to focus on the now, the cold pack a small comfort against the throb in his jaw. He drifts in and out of sleep, the pain ebbing and flowing like the tides. Sometime later, Karen and Hanna tiptoe into the room. Plankton's antenna twitches in his sleep, his snores a gentle whisper. "How is he?" Hanna asks, her voice a soft ripple. Karen's smile is a gentle wave. "Resting," she says, her eyes on the sleeping Plankton. "He's been through a lot, as yesterday's surgery took it out of him." They tiptoe closer to the bed, their movements quiet. Plankton's snores are like a gentle testament to his deep slumber. Karen reaches out, her hand stroking his antennae gently. "He's okay," she whispers to Hanna. "Just needs some time to heal." They watch him for a moment, his chest rising and falling in a rhythm. Hanna's smile is sad. "I'm sorry I upset him," she says. Karen nods. "It's not your fault, Hanna," she whispers. "He's just not used to sharing his vulnerable side." They stand there, a silent guard over his sleeping form. Hanna's smile is a sad reflection of the moon on the sea. "I didn't mean to intrude," she says softly. Karen's voice is a gentle current. "You didn't," she assures her. "Plankton's just...sensitive." Hanna nods, her eyes a sorrowful sea. "I understand," she whispers. "But I'll be more careful." They leave the room, their footsteps like soft whispers against the current of the hallway. The door closes with a gentle click, leaving Plankton to the embrace of sleep and the cold pack's comfort. Hours pass, the sun's warmth gradually fading into a cool, soothing blue. Plankton stirs, his eye fluttering open. The pain has subsided to a dull ache. He tries to sit up, his body protesting with a groan. He looks at his phone again, his antennae drooping. The comments on the picture are like a school of jellyfish, stinging his ego. He reads them one by one, his emotions a stormy sea. @BarneyRubble: "Oh no, Plankton! You're not looking your usual selfie-ready best! Get well soon, buddy! 😂" Plankton's antennae droop with self-consciousness. @Gil: "I bet he was dreaming of stealing Krabby Patties with those teeth! Get better soon, little guy! 🐚😂" This isn't helping his mood. @Spongegar: "Aw, poor little Plankton! You'll be back to your usual scheming self in no time! 💃💃💃" Plankton's antennae twitch slightly at the well-meaning but slightly patronizing remark. @MermaidMan: "Remember when I lost my teeth fighting a giant clam? Good times. Get well soon, buddy! 👨‍🦽💃🐢" @ PatrickStar: "Who knew Plankton had so many teeth? 🐛😂 Get well soon, buddy! Maybe you'll finally leave SpongeBob's house alone! 💃🏻" Plankton knows he needs to change the narrative. Perhaps he can find something in his camera roll gallery.. He scrolls through, his antennae quivering with determination. Ah-ha! Pictures of him and his cuddly little amoeba puppy, Spot. Spot's a good boy, always there, always loving. He's the one thing that can make him feel like the hero he's not. He selects an old picture of himself and Spot, taken during a rare moment of peace. Spot is looking up at him with his adoring eye, his squishy tail wagging. Plankton's expression is softer than usual, his antennae relaxed. He opens a new post, his thumbs moving with purpose. He captions it, "Throwback to my best bud Spot, always ready for an adventure! #planktonandspot #goodtimes" He hits post, the button a beacon of hope in the storm of his embarrassment. He watches the likes and comments roll in, his antennae perking up slightly. The first one from @SpongeBob: "Aw, Spot looks adorable! Miss you, buddy! 🐛💛" This brings a smile to Plankton's face. The next comment from @ SquidwardTentacles is a sly dig. "Looks like Spot's the only one who doesn't know what a failure you are, Plankton. 🐙👎" Plankton's eye narrows, his cheeks burning with irritation. @MrKrabs weighs in: "That's one fine looking microbe you got there, Plankton! Maybe he could help you steal my Krabby Patties one day! 🐚😂" @SandyCheeks: " Spot's the cutest little critter! Give him a hug from me! 😂🐛🤗 #SpotTheAmoeba " Plankton's smile grows, his antennae twitching with each positive comment. It's not just about the image or the jokes anymore; it's about reclaiming his dignity. He's not just the guy who got his teeth pulled out and drooled all over the place—he's a man with a loyal sidekick, a man who's lived life of adventure and friendship.
A TOOTHY STORY pt. 2 The room is quiet except for the occasional slosh of the saline and the whirring of the chair's recline. Karen watches as the nurse, Nina, applies gauze to the newly-emptied sockets where the teeth once were. The redness is stark against Plankton's slackened face. His snores are deep and even, his antennae resting limply on the chair's headrest. The doctor, Dr. Marlin, gives her a thumbs-up, a silent assurance that everything went according to plan. Karen feels a weight lift from her shoulders. The procedure is over, and Plankton is safe. His breathing continues, the anesthesia still keeping him in its gentle embrace of peaceful slumber. Nina turns to her with a sympathetic smile. "It's normal for patients to feel a bit groggy once they wake up. Sometimes they're a bit disoriented. It's like coming out of a deep sleep. It's normal if today he seems a little out of it. Bleeding and brushing are to be expected, and swelling is normal." "But he'll be okay?" Karen asks, her voice shaking. "More than okay," Dr. Marlin assures her, "Just follow the aftercare instructions and he'll be back to his usual self in no time. Just remember, no solid foods for a few days, lots of fluids, and keep those ice packs handy." Nina adds, "Keep an eye on him. He might be a bit forgetful, or say some funny things. It's just the anesthesia wearing off. Nothing to worry about." As they wheel Plankton into recovery, Karen watches his chest rise and fall with each breath. Nina, the nurse, explains, "The numbness is normal, it's the local anesthesia wearing off. It can feel weird, but don't worry, it'll fade. As for sleepiness, it's just the body recovering from the anesthesia. He might be a bit wobbly on your feet or have some difficulty speaking because of the numbness. Just take it slow, okay? Yet you can talk to him right now while he wakes if you'd like, even if he doesn't fully understand you yet." Karen nods, leaning in close to her husband's. "It's over, Plankton," she murmurs. "You did great. Just a little bit more sleep and then we'll go home." Plankton's breaths are slow and steady, his body still under the anesthesia's spell. The recovery room is dimly lit. The nurse, Nina, keeps a close eye on Plankton as Karen sits beside him, her hand resting on his arm. She's always been there for him, a constant source of comfort in the face of fear. The receptionist from earlier, Becky, comes in to check on Plankton, her face still cheerful despite the early hour. "How's our patient?" she asks Karen, glancing at the monitors that track his recovery. Plankton's chest rises and falls steadily, his snores punctuating the quiet. Karen smiles weakly. "He's still out of it." Becky nods. "That's normal. The anesthesia takes a little while to wear off. He'll wake up soon enough. You can talk to him if you'd like. Sometimes it helps to hear familiar voices." Karen looks down at Plankton's peaceful face. "You're going to be okay, sweetheart," she says softly. "Just a little longer, and then we'll go home. No more worrying." A line of drool starts to trickle from the corner of Plankton's numb mouth. It's a sight Karen's seen before, but only during his deepest slumbers. She reaches for a tissue and gently dabs at the saliva pooling, his body still under the sedative's grip. She cannot help but feel a twinge of pity for his vulnerable state, despite his snoring. The drool slowly starts to form a tiny river on the chair, a silent testament to the depth of his sleep. Karen wipes it away, knowing he'd be embarrassed if he were conscious of the sight. The nurse, Nina, checks his vitals, satisfied with his progress. "You can sit him up now," she says. "Just make sure he's actually awake before we get him walking." Karen carefully turns Plankton's chair with the lever, which gently guides his sleeping body upright. As the chair moves, Plankton's snoring changes pitch, his head lolling slightly. Karen smiles despite herself, his vulnerability endearing. Gently, she cups his cheek guiding his head back up. "Don't worry, Plankton. Almost time to go home," she says, her voice soft as a morning lullaby.
A TOOTHY STORY pt. 4 Karen stands, gently helping Plankton to his feet. He sways slightly, his legs still wobbly from the anesthesia. "Careful," she says, wrapping an arm around his waist. He leans into her, his eye still glazed as he chuckles. "M-mph... funny," he slurs, a weak smile on his face. "You're going to be fine," Karen reassures him, her voice a beacon of comfort in the fog of his mind. They shuffle slowly down the hallway, his legs unsteady as if he's walking on a tightrope over a shark tank. The floor seems to tilt and sway, each step a dizzying challenge. Karen holds him close, her arm around his waist, guiding him like a ship navigating stormy waters. Plankton's eye start to droop, his lid growing heavier by the second. "W-where... whewe... we go?" he slurs, his speech barely coherent. Karen's response is lost to the symphony of his snores as he unexpectedly dozes off mid-sentence as she catches him. He jolts awake, only to find himself still standing, held upright by Karen's steady grip. "H-how?" he stammers, his eye wide with confusion. They've reached the reception area, and Becky, the ever-cheery receptionist, giggles at the sight. "You can sit him down now," she suggests. "Just keep an eye on him until he's fully awake." Karen guides him to the chair, his legs folding under him like a ragdoll. He's out again, his snores echoing in the quiet lobby. She can't help but smile at his obliviousness, his trust in her unwavering. The chair creaks beneath his weight as his head lolls to the side, his antennae drooping. Becky, the receptionist, laughs kindly. "It's like he's on a little anesthesia-induced vacation," she says, her voice a gentle wake. Karen nods, stroking his antennae. "I just want to get him home," she says. "He's not one for being out of his element." The nurse, Nina, appears with a wheelchair. "Let's get you home, Mr. Plankton," she says, her voice a gentle nudge into reality. He blinks, his eye trying to focus on the world around him. Karen helps him into the chair. "W-wheel...?" He starts to protest, his slurred words trailing off as he realizes the futility of his protest. Karen smiles, pushing the chair. "It's okay, you're still groggy. This is just to make sure you don't trip." "W-why?" he murmurs, his words slurred and sleepy. "M'walkin'... woke... m'not..." Karen chuckles, her voice a soft breeze. "You're a bit out of it, Plankton," she says, "We're going home." Plankton's head lolls back, his snores now a comforting soundtrack to their exit. Karen can't help but laugh softly, her heart full of love. He's always been so independent, so strong. But in this moment, he's as vulnerable as a newborn. The cool morning air hits them as they step outside. Plankton blinks, his antennae twitching as he tries to stay conscious. "M-morning," he mumbles, squinting against the sun's early glow. Karen chuckles, pushing the wheelchair to their car. "W-what?" he asks again, his speech still slurred. "You're okay, sweetheart," she says, opening the passenger door. "Let's get you into the car." But Plankton's body seems to have other plans, his eye slip shut and he's out like a light. Karen tries to wake him, her voice a gentle nudge into consciousness. "Come on, Plankton, stay with me." He snores in response, his antennae flopping to one side. Karen sighs, trying not to laugh at his comical state. Carefully, she maneuvers him into the car seat, his head lolling back. "Alright, just a little more," she coaxes. With a grunt, Plankton's eye flickers open as Karen helps buckle him in. "W-why..." He mumbles, his words trailing off as his eyelid droops again. Karen can't help but chuckle. "You're still sleepy, that's all," she says, kissing his forehead. The drive home is slow and careful, Karen keeping a watchful eye on Plankton in the rearview mirror. He's still out cold, his snores punctuating the silence like a lullaby for the road. The car's gentle sway seems to rock him deeper into sleep. They pull into their driveway, the gravel crunching under the tires. Karen parks the car and turns around to look at Plankton. His snores are deep, his antennae twitching slightly with each exhale. She smiles, knowing he's in a deep, peaceful sleep. "Come on, Plankton," she says, her voice gentle. "We're home." He groans, his eye opening just enough to peer out. "Hone?" he mumbles, his voice barely above a whisper. Karen nods, her smile warm. "You can go back to sleep once we're inside."

Related Text & Emojis

💜💚✨plankton x karen✨💚💜
ᴴᵃᵖᵖʸ ᴮⁱʳᵗʰᵈᵃʸ ᵗᵒ ᶜᴾᵁ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ @ALYJACI ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʷ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᵃˢ ʷᵉˡˡ ᵃˢ ᵖᵉᵗ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ᵃʷᵃⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉʳ ᵃʳʳⁱᵛᵃˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏⁱᵗᶜʰᵉⁿ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ʲᵘᵐᵖᵉᵈ⸴ ʰᵃᵖᵖⁱˡʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉˣᶜⁱᵗᵉᵈ‧ "ᴴᵃᵖᵖʸ ᵇⁱʳᵗʰᵈᵃʸ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ!" @ALYJACI
ᵂᵃˡᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᴾʳᵃⁿᵏ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ "ᴾᵉᵃʳˡ ʰᵃˢⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵉˡᵖᵉᵈ ᵘˢ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵖʳᵃⁿᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒʸˢ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ!" ᵀʰᵉ ᴳᵃˡ ᴾᵃˡˢ ʷᵉʳᵉ ʰᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵍⁱʳˡˢ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧ "ᴵ'ᵈ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ᵖᵃʳᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵖʳᵃⁿᵏⁱⁿᵍ!" ᔆᵃⁱᵈ ᴾᵉᵃʳˡ‧ "ᴴᵒʷ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ?" ᵀʰᵉʸ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃⁿᶜʰᵒʳ ˢʰᵃᵖᵉᵈ ʰᵒᵐᵉ‧ "ᴹˢ‧ ᴾᵘᶠᶠ‧‧‧" ᔆʰᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ‧ "ᴼʰ ʰᵉʸ ᴹˢ‧ ᴾᵘᶠᶠ!" "ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵒʳᵍᵒᵗ!" "ᴴᵘʰ?" "ᴬᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᵘʳ ᵈᵃᵗᵉ ᵗᵒⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᵈⁱᵈ ᵗᵒ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ! ᴵ'ᵐ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵒᵐᵉ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷᵉᵈ ʰᵉʳ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉˢᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵃˡ ᵖᵃˡˢ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ᵖʳᵃⁿᵏᵉᵈ!" ᵀʰᵉʸ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰᵉᵈ‧ "ᴼʰ!" "ᴵ'ˡˡ ᶜᵃˡˡ ᴮʳᵃⁿ ᶠˡᵒᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵐᵃᵗʰ ᶜˡᵃˢˢ‧‧‧" ᴾᵉᵃʳˡ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ʰᵉʳ ᵖʰᵒⁿᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵈⁱᵃˡ ʰⁱˢ ⁿᵘᵐᵇᵉʳ‧ "ᴰⁱᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠⁱⁿⁱˢʰ ᵒᵘʳ ʰᵒᵐᵉʷᵒʳᵏ?" "ᴵ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷᵉ ʰᵃᵈ ᵃⁿʸ‧‧‧" "ᴵ'ᵐ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵖʳᵃⁿᵏⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ!" ᴾᵉᵃʳˡ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ʰᵃⁿᵍⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ‧ "ᴵ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵍᵒ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵇⁱᵍᵍᵉʳ ᵖʳᵃⁿᵏ‧‧‧" "ᶜᵃⁿ ʷᵉ ˡᵉⁿᵍᵗʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵖʳᵃⁿᵏ ᵒⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ?" ᔆᵒ ᵗʰᵉʸ ˢⁿᵉᵃᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧ "ᔆʰᵒᵘˡᵈ ʷᵉ ᵖˡᵃⁿ ⁱⁿˢᵗᵉᵃᵈ ᵒᶠ ʷⁱⁿᵍⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᵗ? ᴵ ᵐᵉᵃⁿ ᵐʸ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ʷᵉ'ᵈ ᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᴵ'ᵐ ᵃ ᶜᵘˢᵗᵒᵐᵉʳ!" ᴾᵉᵃʳˡ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉ ᵐᵃᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵒ ᵗʳᵘˢᵗⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ˢᵒ ⁱᵗ ⁿᵉᵉᵈˢ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ‧‧‧" "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵈᵒᵉˢ ʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ʰᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᵍⁱʳˡˢ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ?" ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ ᶜᵘᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᶠᶠ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧ "ᴵ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᴵ'ᵈ ᵇᵉ ᵍᵒⁿᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ⸴ ˢᵒ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵇᵉᵗ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ˢᵉᵉ ⁱᵗ ᶜᵒᵐⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᶠ ʰᵉ ˢᵃʷ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʰⁱᵐ ʳᵉᵃˡ ʷᵉˡˡ⸴ ᵉˣᶜᵉᵖᵗ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵃᶠʳᵃⁱᵈ ᵒᶠ ᵐᵉ‧‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵈᵒᵉˢ ˢᶜⁱᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᵉˣᵖᵉʳⁱᵐᵉⁿᵗˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵃⁿᵗˢ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵃⁱⁿ ᵇᵘˢⁱⁿᵉˢˢ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ‧" "ᴴᵉ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵍⁿⁱˢᵉ ᵃⁿʸ ᵒᶠ ᵘˢ‧‧‧" "ᔆʰᵒᵘˡᵈⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵉ ˢᵉᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵈᵒⁱⁿᵍ?" ᴹˢ‧ ᴾᵘᶠᶠ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ‧ "ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵍᵒ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵗʰᵉᵐ‧ "ᴼⁿᶜᵉ ʷᵉ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ʰᵉ ⁱˢ⸴ ʷᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ‧‧‧" "ᔆˡᵉᵉᵖⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ᵇᵉᵈ‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶜᵒᵐᵉˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧ "ᴵ ᵖᵉᵉᵏᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵐʸ ˢᵉⁿˢᵒʳˢ ⁱⁿᵈⁱᶜᵃᵗᵉᵈ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵘᵖ⁻ ᔆᵗᵃⁱʳˢ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵈʳᵒᵒᵐ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵒ ˡᵉᵗ'ˢ ˢᵉᵉ⸴ ʷʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ʷᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵈᵒ?" "ᵂᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᶜʰᵃⁿᵍᵉ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜˡᵒᶜᵏˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᶜᵃˡᵉⁿᵈᵃʳˢ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ'ˢ ᵃ ᶜˡᵒᶜᵏ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵈ‧‧‧" "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ˢⁿᵉᵃᵏ ⁱⁿ!" ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ "ᵂᵉ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵃᵍʳᵉᵉ ᵒⁿ ᵃ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ‧‧‧" "ᴵ'ᵈ ˢᵃʸ ⁿᵒᵒⁿ!" "ᴺᵒᵒⁿ ⁱᵗ ⁱˢ ᵗʰᵉⁿ!" "ᵂᵉ'ˡˡ ᶜʰᵃⁿᵍᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵃˡᵉⁿᵈᵃʳˢ ᵗᵒ ᶜʰʳⁱˢᵗᵐᵃˢ ᵈᵃʸ!" ᴾᵉᵃʳˡ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰᵉᵈ‧ "ᴵ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ! ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵈᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜˡᵒᶜᵏˢ ᵈᵒʷⁿˢᵗᵃⁱʳˢ⸴ ᴹˢ‧ ᴾᵘᶠᶠ; ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵈᵒ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵖᵖˡⁱᵃⁿᶜᵉˢ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ᵖᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ʰᵃⁿᵈˢ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐⁱᵈᵈˡᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡⁱᶠᵗᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵘᵖ⸴ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵒ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᵈᵉˢⁱᵍⁿᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵃˢᵏˢ‧ ᔆᵒ ˢᵃⁿᵈʸ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵈʳᵒᵒᵐ⸴ ᶜᵃʳᵉᶠᵘˡ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ⁿᵒⁱˢᵉ‧ ᔆˡᵒʷˡʸ ᵖᵘˢʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ⸴ ˢʰᵉ ˢᵗᵒᵒᵈ ᵒⁿ ʰᵉʳ ᵗᵒᵉˢ ˢᵒ ᵃˢ ᵗᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵈⁱˢᵗᵘʳᵇ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᶜʳᵃʷˡᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜˡᵒᶜᵏ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶜʰᵃⁿᵍᵉᵈ ⁱᵗ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢⁿᵒʳᵉ⸴ ˢᵗⁱᶠˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵘʳᵍᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍⁱᵍᵍˡᵉ‧ ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ᶠⁱˣⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜˡᵒᶜᵏ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵉᵉˢ ᵗʰᵉ ʷⁱⁿᵈᵒʷ'ˢ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉᵈ⸴ ˢʰᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉᵉᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵈᵒʷⁿ⁻ ˢᵗᵃⁱʳˢ‧ "ᴵ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵃ ᶜʰʳⁱˢᵗᵐᵃˢ ᵗʳᵉᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵒᵘʳ ᵍᵃʳᵃᵍᵉ!" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ "ᴸᵉᵗ'ˢ ᵍᵉᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ⁱⁿᵛᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷʳᵃᵖ ᵗʰᵉᵐ!" "ᴴᵒʷ ᵃʳᵉ ʷᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ʰᵉʳᵉ?" "ᴾᵉʳʰᵃᵖˢ ʷᵉ ˢⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵒˡⁱᵈᵃʸ'ˢ ᵐᵘˢⁱᶜ ˢᵒⁿᵍˢ ˡᵒᵘᵈ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵗᵉˣᵗᵉᵈ ᵐʸ ᵈᵃᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ⁱⁿ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʳᵃⁿᵏ! ᴵ ᵐᵃʸ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵗᵉˣᵗᵉᵈ ᴮʳᵃⁿ ᶠˡᵒᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢ‧‧‧" ᴾᵉᵃʳˡ ᶜʰᵘᶜᵏˡᵉᵈ⸴ ᵗᵘʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗˢ‧ "ᔆᵃⁿᵗᵃ ᔆᵃⁿᵗᵃ'ˢ ʰᵃˢ ᵍᵒᵗ ʰⁱˢ ʲᵒˡˡʸ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ᵉʸᵉˢ ᵒⁿ ᵐᵉ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ‧ "ᵂʰᵃᵗ ⁱˢ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ‧‧‧" ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃᵗᵉ⸴ ʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ ᵗᵃᵏᵉⁿ ᵃᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵃʷ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ⁱⁿ ʰᵃᵗˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢʷᵉᵃᵗᵉʳˢ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵘᵖ; ⁿᵒʷ⸴ ʷᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ ᵒᵘʳ ᵍⁱᶠᵗˢ!" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʰᵃⁿᵈᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʳᵉˢᵉⁿᵗˢ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ? ᵂʰᵉʳᵉ'ˢ ᵒᵘʳ‧‧‧" "ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ⸴ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉˢᵗ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵉⁿ ᵐᵉ!" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶜᵘᵗ ⁱⁿ⸴ ᵘⁿʷʳᵃᵖᵖⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉʳˢ ˡᵃᵇᵉˡˢ 'ᵗᵒ ᵏᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵖˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ' ʰᵃᵖᵖⁱˡʸ‧ "ᴵ‧‧‧" "ᴾᵉᵃʳˡ⸴ ʰᵒʷ'ᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᴵ ⁿᵉᵉᵈᵉᵈ ᵃ ⁿᵉʷ ᵛᵃᶜᵘᵘᵐ?" "ᴼʰ⸴ ᴮʳᵃⁿ; ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ʰᵒᵘˢᵉ'ˢ ᵃ ᵐᵉˢˢ!" "ᴵ ⁿᵉᵉᵈᵉᵈ ᵃ ᵍᵖˢ ˢʸˢᵗᵉᵐ!" "ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ʷᵉˡᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᴹˢ‧ ᴾᵘᶠᶠ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᶠʳᵃⁿᵗⁱᶜᵃˡˡʸ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵖᵖˡⁱᵃⁿᶜᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃʸ ˢᵉᵗ ᵃˢ ᶜʰʳⁱˢᵗᵐᵃˢ‧ "ᴵᵗ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ᵇᵉ ᶜʰʳⁱˢᵗᵐᵃˢ; ᴵ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ʷʳᵃᵖᵖᵉᵈ⸴ ʷʰʸ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃˡˡ ᵐʸ ⁱⁿᵛᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ‧‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵉᵉᵈˢ ᵗᵒ ᵘⁿʷʳᵃᵖ ʰⁱˢ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵃⁿᵗᵃ ᔆᵃⁿᵗᵃ'ˢ ʰᵃˢ ᵍᵒᵗ ʰⁱˢ ʲᵒˡˡʸ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ᵉʸᵉˢ ᵒⁿ ᵐᵉ‧‧‧" ᶠʳᵘˢᵗʳᵃᵗᵉᵈ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗʳᵉᵉ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ʰⁱˢ ˡᵃᵇᵉˡ 'ᵗᵒ ᵖˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵏʳᵃᵇˢ' ʷʳᵃᵖᵖᵉᵈ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵘⁿʷʳᵃᵖᵖᵉᵈ ⁱᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵉᶜʳᵉᵗ ᵇᵒᵗᵗˡᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃᵖᵉʳ ᵒᶠ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ‧ ᵁⁿᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵈⁱˢˡᵒᵈᵍᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˡⁱᵈ⸴ ʰᵉ ˢᵐᵃˢʰᵉˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍˡᵃˢˢ ᵗᵒ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵏ ⁱᵗ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ‧ ᴱˣᶜⁱᵗᵉᵈˡʸ ᵘⁿᶠᵒˡᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖⁱᵉᶜᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵖᵃᵖᵉʳ ʳᵒˡˡᵉᵈ⸴ ⁱᵗ ˢᵃʸˢ 'ʸᵒᵘ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵖʳᵃⁿᵏᵉᵈ' ᵒⁿ ⁱᵗ‧ ᴬˡˡ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵘⁿᵛᵉⁱˡᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ʷⁱⁿᵈᵒʷˢ ˢʰᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵈᵃʳᵏ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ ᴴᵘᵐⁱˡⁱᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉᵐᵇᵃʳʳᵃˢˢᵉᵈ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʳⁱᵖˢ ᵘᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒˡˡ ᵒᶠ ᵖᵃᵖᵉʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍᵒᵉˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ‧ "ᔆᵉᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃᵗ ˢᶜʰᵒᵒˡ ᴾᵉᵃʳˡ‧‧‧" ᴮʳᵃⁿ ᶠˡᵒᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢ ˡᵉᶠᵗ‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵃˡ ᵖᵃˡˢ ʳᵉᵐᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢⁱᵍʰᵉᵈ‧ "ᴴᵉ'ˡˡ ᶜᵃˡᵐ ᵈᵒʷⁿ⸴ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ?" "ᴴᵃʳᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵃʸ‧‧‧" ᔆʰᵉ ᵃᵈᵐⁱᵗˢ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉˢᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ʳᵉᵛᵉʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵖᵖˡⁱᵃⁿᶜᵉˢ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ?" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ'ˢ ˢⁱˡᵉⁿᵗˡʸ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ "ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵒⁿ⸴ ʷᵉ ᵖʳᵃⁿᵏᵉᵈ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢʰᵉᵈ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵍᵃˡ ᵖᵃˡˢ ᶜᵃᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵘᵖ‧ "ᴴᵉʸ ᵇᵘᵈ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ?" ᴴᵉ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ˡᵃˢʰ ᵒᵘᵗ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵐᵃᵈ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵃⁿᵍʳʸ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃʸ ᑫᵘⁱᵉᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ʷᵒʳᵈ‧‧‧ "ᴵ ⁱⁿᵛⁱᵗᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ‧" ᴾᵉᵃʳˡ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ˢᵖᵃᶜᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵉ?" "ᴸᵉᵗ'ˢ ᶜᵃˡˡ ⁱᵗ ᵃ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵍᵃˡ ᵖᵃˡˢ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁱⁿᶠᵒʳᵐᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵍᵃˡ ᵖᵃˡˢ‧ "ᵂᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵈⁱᵈ ⁱᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃˡˡ ⁱⁿ ᶠᵘⁿ‧‧" "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ; ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ʰᵘʳᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵖʳⁱᵈᵉ?" "ʸᵉˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵃᵖᵒˡᵒᵍⁱˢᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ʷᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ‧" "ᵀʰᵃⁿᵏˢ; ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ˢᵘʳᵉ ˢʰᵉ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵃʸ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳᵈ 'ˡᵒᵛᵉ' ⁱⁿ ᵃ ˢᵉⁿᵗᵉⁿᶜᵉ⸴ ˡᵉᵗ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰᵉ ˢʰᵒʷᵉᵈ ᵃᶠᶠᵉᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵃᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ʷᵃʸ‧‧‧ "ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ʷᵉˡᶜᵒᵐᵉ; ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ‧‧" ˢʰᵉ ᵗᵘᶜᵏᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ⁱⁿ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᶠʳᵉᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵉˡˡ ᵐᵉ ᵃⁿʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵃʸ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢʰᵉ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ ʰᵉ'ˢ ˢⁿᵒʳⁱⁿᵍ‧ "ᔆˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵗⁱᵍʰᵗ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧‧"
W ired I ntegrated F emale E lectroencephalograph Любимая жена!
ᵂᵒʳˢᵗ ᴱⁿᵉᵐʸ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 𝟗𝟑𝟎 ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ .ೃ࿐ 𝚃𝚠: 𝙱𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍 ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒⁿ ᵉᵐᵖˡᵒʸᵉᵉ ʳᵉᵗʳᵉᵃᵗ; ᵃ ᵖᵉʳᶠᵉᶜᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗʳⁱᵏᵉ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ ᵇʸ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ‧ "ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ⸴ ᴵ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃˡᵏ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵒᶠᶠⁱᶜᵉ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵗᵉˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᴵ ˢᵗᵉᵃˡ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ; ʷᵉ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶜʰᵃⁿᵍᵉ ᵘᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵘˡᵉˢ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˢᶜᵃⁿⁿᵉᵈ ᵐᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳⁿᵃˡ ᵈᵃᵐᵃᵍᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ʷᵉᵃᵏⁿᵉˢˢ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ˢᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵈᵒ ʷʰᵃᵗᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵒᵖ ᵐᵉ ᵉˣᶜᵉᵖᵗ ᶠᵒʳ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᵃᶜᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵇᵉˡⁱᵉᵛᵉ? ʸᵒᵘ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ; ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ ᵘˢᵉᵈ ˢʸᵐᵖᵃᵗʰʸ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ⁱⁿ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵖˡᵃⁿˢ!" ᴹʳ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵃʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ᵗᵒ ᶜʳʸ‧ "ᴾˡᵉᵃˢᵉ!" "ʸᵒᵘ ᶜʰⁱᶜᵏᵉⁿ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵏⁱᶜᵏᵉᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃˡˡ ʰⁱˢ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ᶠˡʸ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰⁱᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃˡˡ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ᵗʰᵘᵈ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃᶜᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʷᵃˢ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ˢᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿˡʸ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵗʳᵃᶜᵏˢ; ⁿᵒᵗ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵈⁱᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵐᵒᵛᵉ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵇˡᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ᵗᵒ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ?" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵏⁿᵉˡᵗ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉʳ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ!" ᴴᵉ ᵇᵉⁿᵗ ᵈᵒʷⁿ⸴ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˡᵃᵗᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ʷᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗʳᵘᵗʰ‧ "ᴼʰ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵒᵇᵇᵉᵈ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧‧" ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ ᶜʳʸⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˡᵉᵃⁿᵉᵈ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉᵃʳ ˢʰᵃˡˡᵒʷ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵈᵉˢᵖᵉʳᵃᵗᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍʳᵃᵇᵇᵉᵈ ᵃ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵃᵘⁿᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵒᵖⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉⁿ‧ "ᶜᵃⁿ ᵃ ᵏʳᵃᵇᵇʸ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ ˢᶜᵉⁿᵗ ᵒᶠ ˢᵐᵉˡˡ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵘᵖ?" ᴺᵒ ⁱⁿᵈⁱᶜᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷʰᵃᵗˢᵒᵉᵛᵉʳ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵖʰᵒⁿᵉ ⁿᵘᵐᵇᵉʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ‧ "ᴴᵉˡˡᵒ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃⁿˢʷᵉʳᵉᵈ‧ "ʸᵒᵘʳ ʰᵉˡᵖ ⁱˢ ⁿᵉᵉᵈᵉᵈ‧" "ᴰⁱᵈ ᵐʸ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʰⁱˢ ʳⁱˢᵏ ᵇʳᵃⁱⁿ ᵈᵃᵐᵃᵍᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃˢᵗʰᵐᵃ?" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧ "ᴴᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵉˡˡ ᵐᵉ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃˢᵗʰᵐᵃ⸴ ᵃˢ ᴵ ʰᵘʳᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒⁿᶜᵉ ʰᵉ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵐᵉ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵒⁿˡʸ ⁿᵒᵈᵈᵉᵈ ʳᵉˢᵖᵒⁿˢᵉ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒ ˢᵒʳʳʸ; ᴵ'ᵈ ᵈᵒ ᵃⁿʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵘⁿᵈᵒ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʲᵘˢᵗ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉ ᶜᵒⁿⁿⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ⸴ ᵖˡᵉᵃᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵇᵉᵍᵍⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ʷᵒʳˢᵗ ᵉⁿᵉᵐʸ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵉᵐᵖᵃᵗʰʸ‧ "ᴴᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ˢⁿᵉᵃᵏ ⁱⁿ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵃⁿⁿᵒᵘⁿᶜᵉᵈ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵇᵃʷˡᵉᵈ‧ "ᴴᵉ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃ ᶜʰⁱᶜᵏᵉⁿ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ⸴ ʰᵉ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵐᵉ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ˡᵉᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʳᵉˢᵗᵃᵘʳᵃⁿᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ʷᵒʳʳʸ‧ ᴺᵒʷ⸴ ˡᵒᵒᵏ!" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉ ʷᵃᵛᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ˢᶜᵃⁿⁿᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᵂʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ˢᶜᵃⁿ ˢᵃʸ⸴ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ?" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ‧ "ᶜᵒᵐᵃ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵗᵒᵒᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵘᵗᵗᵉʳ ˢʰᵒᶜᵏᵉᵈ ˢⁱˡᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᵒⁿᶜᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᶜᵃⁿˢ ⁱⁿᵈⁱᶜᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᶜᵒᵐᵃ‧ "ᴴⁱˢ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰˢ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʷᵉᵃᵏᵉʳ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍᵒᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵉᑫᵘⁱᵖᵐᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉˡᵖ ʰⁱᵐ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰᵉ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ⁱⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵉʸᵉ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵘⁿᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢⁿᵉˢˢ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵒᶠ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢʰᵘᵗ ᵒᶠᶠ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳˡᵈ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵒᶠ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʷᵉʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵒᵒᵈ ᵇᵘˢⁱⁿᵉˢˢ ˢᵖˡⁱᵗ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢʰⁱᵖ‧ "ᴬˢˢᵘᵐⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ⸴ ᵈᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ʰᵉ'ˡˡ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵈᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃᵈᵐⁱᵗᵗᵉᵈ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵈᵃʸ⸴ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᵉᵐᵖˡᵒʸᵉᵉˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᴷʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᴷʳᵃᵇ'ˢ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉᵈ ᵘⁿᵗⁱˡ ᶠᵘʳᵗʰᵉʳ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ⁿᵒ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ʰᵉ ˡᵃˢᵗ ˢᵃʷ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ʰᵉᵃʳ ᵐᵉ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ʷⁱˡˡ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵇˡᵃᵐᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵃⁿˣⁱᵒᵘˢˡʸ ᵗᵃˡᵏᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷʰᵒ'ˢ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵘⁿᵃʷᵃʳᵉ‧ "ᴵ ᵐⁱˢˢ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʷᵉ'ʳᵉ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢ⸴ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵐʸ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᵐᵒⁿᵉʸ ᶜᵒⁿˢᵘᵐᵉᵈ ᵐᵉ‧ ᴮᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ⁿᵒʷ ᵈʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˡˡ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵐᵉ‧ ᴵ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵐⁱˢˢᵉˢ ʸᵒᵘʳ ⁿᵃᵍᵍⁱⁿᵍ‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵃʷᵏʷᵃʳᵈˡʸ ˡᵉᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵃ ᵍⁱᵍᵍˡᵉ‧ "ᴵ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵐᵉᵃⁿᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵃ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿ‧‧‧" ᔆᵗᵃʳᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᶜʳʸ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ⸴ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᵘᵖ ᵒᶠ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳⁱᵉˢ‧ "ᴵ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱᵈᵉᵃ ᵗᵒ ᵖʳᵃⁿᵏ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᶜʰᵒᵒˡ ʷᵃˢ ˢᵒ ᶠᵘⁿⁿʸ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᶠᵃᶜᵉˢ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉᵈ‧ "ᵂᵉ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ'ᵛᵉ ˢʰᵒʷⁿ ᵒᵘʳ ᵖᵉᵉʳˢ ʰᵒʷ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʲᵒᵇ ᵈᵒⁿᵉ‧‧‧" ᶜʰᵘᶜᵏˡⁱⁿᵍ ⁿᵒʷ‧ "ᔆʰᵒʷ 'ᵉᵐ ʷʰᵒ'ᵈ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵃˢᵗ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰ‧‧‧" ᔆᵒᵐᵉ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ ʷᵉˡˡᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ⁱⁿ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵉʸᵉˢ‧ "ᴵ'ᵈ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ᵃˡˡ ᵐʸ ᵐᵒⁿᵉʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵐʸ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧" ᵀʰᵉ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵍʳᵃᵈᵘᵃˡˡʸ ʳᵉᵍᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢⁿᵉˢˢ ʰᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᶠᵃʳᵃʷᵃʸ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉ⸴ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵍⁿⁱˢᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵃˢ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ⸴ ⁿᵒʳ ʷʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ ˡⁱᵐᵇᵒˡⁱᵏᵉ⸴ ʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ʸᵉᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵘʳʳᵒᵘⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍˢ⸴ ᵉʸᵉ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ˢʰᵘᵗ‧ ᵀʰᵉⁿ ʷᵒʳᵈˢ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᶜˡᵉᵃʳᵉʳ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᶠᵃʳᵃʷᵃʸ‧ ᴴᵉ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳᵈˢ ˡⁱᵏᵉ 'ˢᵒʳʳʸ' ᵃⁿᵈ 'ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ' ᵃⁿᵈ 'ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ' ᵇᵘᵗ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ʷʰᵒ ˢᵖᵒᵏᵉ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ʷᵒʳᵈˢ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵐᵒⁿⁱᵗᵒʳᵉᵈ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ⸴ ˢᵒ ˢʰᵉ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ'ˢ ᵃ ᶜʰᵃⁿᵍᵉ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ᵈᵉᵗᵉᶜᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵖᵒˢˢⁱᵇˡᵉ ʳᵉᵛⁱᵛᵃˡ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʷᵃˢ ˢⁱᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ˢᵗʳᵃⁱᵍʰᵗᵉʳ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵐᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵉᵗ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ; ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʳᵉᵐᵒᵛᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵉᑫᵘⁱᵖᵐᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ⁱᵗ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᶜʳⁱᵉˢ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵐᵉ ˡᵉˢˢ ᵈⁱˢᵗᵃⁿᵗ ˢᵒᵘⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵉⁿˢᵉˢ ʳᵉᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ‧ ᴺᵒʷ ʷᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᵐᵃⁿᵃᵍᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶠˡᵘᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ‧ "ᴬᵘ‧‧‧" ᔆⁱᵍʰᵗ ʳᵉᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗ ʸᵉᵗ ʳᵉᵍⁱˢᵗᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ʷʰᵒ'ˢ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᵂʰᵃᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ‧‧‧" ᶠⁱⁿᵃˡˡʸ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ⸴ ʰᵉ ˢᵃʷ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵐⁱˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵗ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʳᵉᵐᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ ᶜᵒⁿᶠᵘˢᵉᵈ‧ "ᴴⁱ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ! ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ?" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢʷᵉᵉᵗˡʸ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ‧ "ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵃʸ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏⁱⁿᵍ?" ᴬˢᵏᵉᵈ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ‧ ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ ⁿᵒᵗ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵉᵗᵉˡʸ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ⁿᵒʳᵐᵃˡ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ʰᵃʳᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢᵗʳᵘᵍᵍˡᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʳᵉᵐᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ ᵍʳᵒᵍᵍʸ‧ ᴹᵉᵐᵒʳⁱᵉˢ ˢᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿˡʸ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵃˢ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ ᶜʰⁱᶜᵏᵉⁿ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵇᵉᵗʷᵉᵉⁿ⸴ ⁿᵒʳ ʰᵒʷ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ʰᵃˢ ᵖᵃˢˢᵉᵈ‧ ᴴᵉ ⁿᵃʳʳᵒʷᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢᵃⁱᵈ "ᶜʰⁱᶜᵏᵉⁿ" ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉᵐ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᵖʳᵒᶜᵉᵉᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʰⁱᵐ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶜʳⁱᵉᵈ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʳᵉᵃᶜʰᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗᵒ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ⸴ ʷʰᵒ ᵉᵐᵇʳᵃᶜᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᶠᵒʳᵐᵉʳ ᵉⁿᵉᵐʸ‧ "ᴵ ᶠᵒʳᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧"
RIIZE IS 7!!! 🗣
Listen to RIIZE songs on Scratch. Don't listen to RIIZE on YouTube, Spotify, or any platforms that give money back to SM. If a song you like is not there, you can upload it to help all of BRIIZE 💕💕
ᴬˢᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ "ᴵᵗ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃʸ ⁱⁿ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵉ‧ ᴺᵒ ʷᵒⁿᵈᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ᵐⁱˢᵉʳᵃᵇˡᵉ! ᴮᵉᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ᵒʳ ᶜᵃᵗᶜʰ ᵘᵖ ʷⁱᵗʰ‧‧‧" "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᴵ'ᵐ ᵈᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᶠⁱⁿᵉ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ʷⁱᶠᵉ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ᵗᵉˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ!" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˡᵉᵃᵈˢ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ˢᵒᶜⁱᵃˡⁱˢᵉ‧ 'ᵂʰᵒ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉˢᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵃ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ᵒᶠ ᵐⁱⁿᵉ' ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ‧ 'ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵃᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʰᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵘⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵉᵃᵐʷᵒʳᵏ' ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵃˢ ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳⁱᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ᵏⁱⁿᵈⁿᵉˢˢ ᵉʳᵘᵖᵗᵉᵈ‧ ᴴᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵒᵐᵉ‧ "ᴴᵒᵐᵐⁱⁿᵃ—ʷᵃʰ?" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃʷᵒᵏᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ʰᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠʳᵒⁿᵗ ᵈᵒᵒʳ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵒᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷᵃⁿᵗˢ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵇᵒⁿᵈ ˢᵒ ᴵ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ⁿⁱᶜᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉˢᵗ ᴵ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵃ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ˡᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ⁱⁿ‧ "ᴵ ʷᵃˢ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃʳᵏ‧ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ʷᵃⁿᵗˢ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ᵃ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵘᵉ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ʰᵉˡᵖ ˢᶜᵘˡᵖᵗ!" ᔆᵒ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃʳᵗ ˢᵘᵖᵖˡⁱᵉˢ ⁿᵉᵉᵈᵉᵈ‧ "ᴵᵗ ᵗᵃᵏᵉˢ ᵃ ᵈᵃʸ ᵒʳ ˢᵒ ᵗᵒ ᵈʳʸ ᵒⁿᶜᵉ ⁱᵗ ᶠⁱⁿⁱˢʰᵉᵈ⸴ ˢᵒ ʷᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵗᵘʳⁿˢ ᵍᵘᵃʳᵈⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᵗ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ "ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵈᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵃʳᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵃᶜⁱᵃˡ ᵈᵉᵗᵃⁱˡˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵃⁿᵈˡᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵗʳᵘᶜᵗᵘʳᵉ‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ˢᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵃˢᵉ‧ "ᴰᵉᵃˡ!" "ᔆᵒ ʷᵉ ᵉᵃᶜʰ ᵍᵘᵃʳᵈ ⁱᵗ ᵃ ᵈᵒᶻᵉⁿ ʰᵒᵘʳˢ ᵖᵉʳ ᵗᵘʳⁿ ᵃᵗ ᵃ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ‧ ᴵ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵍᵒ ᵗᵉˡˡ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ˢᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵏⁱᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ'ˢ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗᵃʸᵉᵈ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ˢᵉᵉ ⁱᵗ ⁿᵒʷ ᵒʳ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʷᵃⁱᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ⁱᵗ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱⁿⁱˢʰ ᵈʳʸⁱⁿᵍ?" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢʰⁱᶠᵗᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈ ʷᵃʳᵈ ᵖᵒⁿᵈᵉʳᵉᵈ‧ "ᴵ ᵇᵉᵗ ˢᑫᵘⁱˡˡⁱᵃᵐ'ˢ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵍᵒ ᵈᵉˢᵗʳᵒʸ ⁱᵗ‧‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵍᵘᵃʳᵈⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᵗ ᵃˢ ʷᵉ ˢᵖᵉᵃᵏ ˢᵒ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᵗʳᵘˢᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ?" ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷᵉᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃʳᵏ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵖᵃᶜᵉᵈ ˡᵒᵒᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ⁱᵗ‧ "ᴵᵗ'ˢ ᵐᵒˢᵗ ᵉˣᑫᵘⁱˢⁱᵗᵉ ᵃʳᵗ ᵖⁱᵉᶜᵉ ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ˢᵉᵉⁿ!" ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ˢⁱᵍʰˢ‧ "ᴶᵘˢᵗ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵗʳʸ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᴵ'ᵈ ʷᵃˢᵗᵉ ᵐʸ ᵉⁿᵉʳᵍʸ ᵒⁿ ᵈᵉˢᵗʳᵒʸⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᴵ ʰᵉˡᵖ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵘⁱˡᵈ?" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵃᶜᶜᵘˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᶠ ᵃᵗ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ‧ "ᴼʰ ʷᵃⁱᵗ ʷᵉ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᵍᵒ ᵗᵒ ʷᵒʳᵏ ⁿᵒʷ! ᔆᵉᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ˢʰⁱᶠᵗ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃⁿᵈ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃʳᵏ‧ "ᵀʰᵃⁿᵏˢ ᶠᵒʳ ʷᵒʳᵏⁱⁿᵍ ˡᵃᵗᵉ ᵇᵒʸˢ!" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᶜˡᵒˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉˢᵗᵃᵘʳᵃⁿᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧ 'ᴹʸ ᵗᵘʳⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵘᵃʳᵈ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈ ʷᵃʳᵈ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵘᵉ' ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ⸴ ᵉˣᶜⁱᵗᵉᵈˡʸ‧ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ'ˢ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵘᵉ‧ "ᵀⁱᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢʷⁱᵗᶜʰ ˢʰⁱᶠᵗˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵘᵃʳᵈ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃᵗ ˡᵉᵃⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿˢᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵃˢᵉ ᵃˢ ᵃ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ʳᵉˢᵗ ᵃˢ ʰⁱ ˢᵒᶠᵗ ˢⁿᵘᶠᶠˡⁱⁿᵍ ˢⁿᵒʳᵉˢ ʷᵉʳᵉ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ‧ 'ᴺᵒʷ ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʰᵒʷ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ʷʰᵉⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᴵ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʲᵒᵇ' ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ‧ "ᴵ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ‧‧" ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗᵉᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ⸴ ᵇᵉᵍʳᵘᵈᵍⁱⁿᵍˡʸ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ ⁿᵉʳᵛᵒᵘˢˡʸ ᵃˢ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵇᵉⁿᵗ ᵈᵒʷⁿ‧ "ᴴᵉʸ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ‧‧" ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ʳᵘᵇᵇᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ᵒᶠ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵃˢ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ˢⁿᵒʳⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ᵉʸᵉᵇʳᵒʷ ᶠᵘʳʳᵒʷˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ⁿᵒᵗ ʷᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵉᵗ‧ "ᵁᵖ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃᵗᵒᵐ‧‧" ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ "ᴴᵐᵐᵐ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᴳᴱᵀ͏ ᵁᴾ!" ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ʸᵉˡˡᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗˡᵉᵈ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ ᶠᵃˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵃˢⁱᵈᵉ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ˢᵗᵃⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵘᵖ‧ "ᵂʰᵃ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ˢᵘᵖᵖᵒˢᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵍᵘᵃʳᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐʸ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵘᵉ!" "ᴵ'ᵐ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵍᵘᵃʳᵈ ⁱᵗ ⁿᵒʷ ˢᵒ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ⸴ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏ ᵗᵒⁿ ᵈⁱᶻᶻⁱⁿᵉˢˢ ˢᵘᵇˢⁱᵈᵉᵈ‧ "ᔆᵒʳʳʸ‧‧" "ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃⁿʸ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ ˢᵒ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ⁱⁿ ᵒⁿᶜᵉ ᵐʸ ʰᵒᵘʳˢ ᵉⁿᵈ‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ⁱⁿᶠᵒʳᵐˢ‧ "ᴵ'ˡˡ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵒᵒᵏ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʳᵉᵖˡⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧ "ᴵ'ᵈ ᵇᵘⁱˡᵗ ʰᵉˡᵖᵉᵈ ᵃ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵘᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁿᵒᵈᵈᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ʰᵉˡᵖᵉᵈ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ "ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ‧‧" "ᴵ'ᵐ ᵍˡᵃᵈ; ᵍᵉᵗ ᵃ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ'ˢ ʳᵉˢᵗ!" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢⁱᵗᵘᵃᵗᵉᵈ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵃᵖᵖⁱˡʸ ᵖᵃᵗʳᵒˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵘᵉ‧ "ᴵ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵈʳʸ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʸˢ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒᵘᶜʰᵉᵈ ⁱᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵃˢ ᵈʳʸ‧ "ᴬˡˡ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ!" ᴴᵉ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ "ᴺᵒ ᵈᵃᵐᵃᵍᵉ ᵃˢ ᶠᵃʳ ᵃˢ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵗᵉˡˡ‧‧" "ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ'ˢ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵇᵉ ˢᵒ ʰᵃᵖᵖʸ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵗᵉˣᵗᵉᵈ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ‧ "ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ!" ᔆᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵒᵖ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵍˡᵉᵉ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵒᶠ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ˢᵒᵐᵉʰᵒʷ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵈᵒʷⁿ‧ 'ᴴᵉ ⁱˢ ˢᵒ ⁿⁱᶜᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵃˡˡ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ ʰⁱˢ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢ‧ ᴵᶠ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᴵ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʰᵒʷ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉᵉˡˢ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵈᵉᵉᵖ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ⁱⁿˢⁱᵈᵉ' ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵒ ⁱᵐᵖᵒʳᵗᵃⁿᵗ‧ 'ᴵᶠ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᴵ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵒ ʰᵃᵖᵖʸ ᵗᵒ' ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵈᵉᵖʳᵉˢˢⁱⁿᵍˡʸ‧ ᴴᵉ ˢᵃʷ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ʳᵘⁿ ᵗᵒ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵘᵉ ᵃˢ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵇᵒᵘⁿᶜᵉᵈ ˢᵐⁱˡⁱⁿᵍ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ᵃᶜᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ⁱᵐᵖʳᵉˢˢᵉᵈ; ⁱᵗ ˡᵒᵒᵏˢ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵈʳʸ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵒⁿᵍⁱⁿᵍˡʸ ˢᵃʷ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵃˢ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵖᵃᵗˢ‧ "ᴼᶠ ᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘ!" "ᴼʰ; ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏˢ‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵃ ᵇᵉˢᵗ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ᵒᶠ ᵐⁱⁿᵉ⸴ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ! ᶜᵃⁿ ᴵ ᶜᵃˡˡ ʸᵒᵘ ᵐʸ ᵇᵉˢᵗ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ?" "ᴵᶠ ᴵ ˢᵃʸ ʸᵉˢ⸴ ʷⁱˡˡ ʸᵒᵘ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵖʳᵒᵐⁱˢᵉ ᵐᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵃʸ ⁱᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵖᵘᵇˡⁱᶜ?" ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᔆᑫᵘᵉᵃˡⁱⁿᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʲᵒʸ⸴ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵉᵐᵇʳᵃᶜᵉ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵃᵐᵃᶻⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ᵗᵒ ʷᵉˡˡ ᵘᵖ ⁱⁿ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ; ʰᵉ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ˡⁱᵏᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᶜʳʸ‧ 'ᴵ ᵈᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʰᵒʷ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵐᵃᵏᵉˢ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵒ ʰᵃᵖᵖⁱᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ᴵ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ' ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵖᵒⁿᵈᵉʳᵉᵈ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ˡᵉᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵃ ˢᵒᵇ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ ᵃʷᵃʸ ˢᵒ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗⁿ’ᵗ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉ‧ ᶠᵉᵉˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ᵗᵒ ᶠᵃˡˡ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵇʸ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳ ᵃ ᵗʳᵉᵉ‧ "ᵂʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ᵘᵖ ʷⁱᵗʰ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵍᵒ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ ᵒⁿ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵃⁿ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ʰᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗʳᵉᵉ‧ ᴴᵉ ˢᵃʷ ʰⁱᵐ ʰᵘᵍᵍⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵏⁿᵉᵉˢ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ʰᵒˡᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ʷʰⁱᵐᵖᵉʳˢ‧ ᴺᵒᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵒʷ ᵗᵒ ᵃᵖᵖʳᵒᵃᶜʰ ʰⁱᵐ⸴ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵒᵛᵉʳˡʸ ᵃᶠᶠᵉᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿᵃᵗᵉ ⁿᵒʳ ᵃˢᵏ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗᵒᵘᶜʰ ᵉᵛᵉʳ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʷ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵒᵒᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵒⁿᶜᵉʳⁿᵉᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᴵ ˢᵉᵉ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵒ‽" "ᵂᵉˡˡ ᵈᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵃⁿʸ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵈᵒ?" "ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵉᵉᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˢᵒ ᵍˡᵃᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ‧‧‧" "ʸᵉᵃ ʰᵉ'ˢ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵃ ᵇʳᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢⁱᵍʰᵉᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᶜʳʸ‧ "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉˢᵗ ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵃ ᵇᵉˢᵗ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ᵖᵒˡⁱᵗᵉ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵒˡᵉʳᵃᵗᵉ ᵐᵉ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᵃ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰ‧ "ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰᵒʷ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃⁿᵍ ᵒᵘᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘ ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿⁿᵒᵗ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵍᵒ ᵃ ᵈᵃʸ ʷⁱᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ᵃʳᵍᵘⁱⁿᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐʸ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴵ ʰᵃᵈ ᵖʳᵒᵍʳᵃᵐᵐᵉᵈ! ᴵᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵖʳᵉᵗᵉⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵐʸ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵃⁿʸ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵃᵇᵉ ᵗᵒ‧‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ⁿᵒ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃ ᵏⁱˢˢ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵒʳᵉʰᵉᵃᵈ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵗᵃˡᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵃᵐ ᵃᶠʳᵃⁱᵈ ᵒᶠ ⁱʳʳⁱᵗᵃᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ‧ ᴵᵗ'ˢ ʰᵃʳᵈ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴵ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ'ᵈ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᵐᵉᵃⁿ ⁱᵗ?" "ᴼᶠ ᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ‧‧‧"
ᴵⁿ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᴰʳᵉᵃᵐˢ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ‘ᴳᵒᵒᵈ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ! ᴳᵘᵉˢˢ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᴵ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠᵃᵛᵒᵘʳⁱᵗᵉ!’ ᴴᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇˢ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉ, ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉᵈ‧ ‘ᴷʳᵃᵇᵇʸ ᴾᵃᵗᵗⁱᵉˢ!’ ‘ᵀᵒ ᵘˢ‧‧’ ‘ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ?’ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ’ˢ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗᵉᵈ‧ ᔆᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿˡʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵃ ᵗᵃᵖ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈᵉʳ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧ “ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ!” ᴴᵉ ˢⁿᵃᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ, ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ’ˢ ʰᵘᵍᵍⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᵖⁱˡˡᵒʷ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵒᵗ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ⁱᵗ’ˢ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵗʳᵘᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵉⁿᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵗᵒᵍᵉᵗʰᵉʳ, ᵐᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵖᵃᵗᵗⁱᵉˢ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵈʳᵒᵒˡⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿˢᵗᵉᵃᵈ‧ “ᴶᵘˢᵗ ᵍᵉᵗ…” “ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ; ᴵ’ᵐ ᵘᵖ!” ᴴᵉ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ‧ ‘ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ⁱˢ ᵃ ᵇᵘˢⁱⁿᵉˢˢ ʳⁱᵛᵃˡ ʷʰᵒ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ˡᵃˢᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢʰⁱᵖ’ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵐⁱⁿᵈˡᵉˢˢˡʸ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ ʷⁱᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ᵃ ᵖˡᵃⁿ ᵒʳ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵐᵒᵗⁱᵛᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ! ᴴᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˢⁿᵘᶜᵏ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᵈⁱᵈ ʰⁱˢ ʲᵒᵇ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳⁱˡˡ‧ “ᵂᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ᵗᵉᵃᵐ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ‧‧” ˢⁱⁿᵍˢ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ, ⁿᵒᵗ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ ᵒᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ‘ᴳᵉᵗ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵖʳⁱᵈᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵃˢᵏ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ⁱᵗ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ʷⁱᵗʰ! ʸᵒᵘ ʷⁱˡˡ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵈᵒ ᵃⁿʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˢᵗᵃⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ’ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ‧ ᴷⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵉⁿᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵏⁱᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵇᵘᵗ ʳⁱˢᵏⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᵗ, ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ “ᴴᵉʸ, ᵏⁱᵈ…” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ “ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ…” “ᴵ ʷⁱˡˡ ⁿᵒᵗ ᶠᵃˡˡ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ, ˢⁱˡˡʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ!” “ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ…” ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗᵉᵈ‧ “ᴼᶠ ᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ ⁱᵗ’ˢ ʸᵒᵘ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ; ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁿ!” ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ‧ “ᴵ…” “ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ᵇᵉˡᵒⁿᵍ ʰᵉʳᵉ; ᵍᵉᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ!” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᵖᵒⁱⁿᵗᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵖᵃᵗᵘˡᵃ ᵃᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃˢ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵗʰʳᵉʷ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ʸᵉˡˡ ⁱⁿ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵃ ʷᵃʸ‧ “ᴼʰ ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈ…” ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ʷᵒʳᵏ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˢᵗᵃʸᵉᵈ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ʰᵉ ˡᵃⁿᵈᵉᵈ ⁿᵉⁱᵗʰᵉʳ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ʰᵒᵐᵉ ⁿᵒʳ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᴷʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ‧ ᴴᵉ ˢᵃᵗ ʳᵉˡⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᶜᵉⁿᵉ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶜʳⁱᵉᵈ‧ ᴴᵉ ˡⁱᵏᵉᵈ ʰᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᶜʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵃⁿ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ; ʸᵉᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵃˢ ˢᵗⁱᶠˡⁱⁿᵍ ʷʰⁱᵐᵖᵉʳˢ ᵃᵗ ‘ʸᵒᵘ ᵈᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵇᵉˡᵒⁿᵍ ʰᵉʳᵉ’ ʳⁱⁿᵍˢ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ‧ ᴴᵉ’ˢ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ, ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʳⁱˢᵏˢ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ‧ ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵃˢ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿᵃˡˡʸ ʰᵘʳᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃˢ ˢᵘᶜʰ‧ ᴼᶠ ᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ, ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᶠᵒⁱˡ ʰⁱˢ ᵖˡᵃⁿˢ ᵃᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ, ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵈⁱᵈ ˢᵒ ʷⁱᵗʰ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴺᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿ ʰᵒʷ ʰᵉ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃʷᵉ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵏⁱᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ ᵂⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ˢⁱᵍʰ ʰᵉ’ᵈ ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ‧ ᶠᵒʳ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ‧ ᴬᵗ ᶜˡᵒˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ, ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʷ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ‧ “ᴼʰ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ…” ˢʰᵉ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ‧ “ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ, ʷʰᵃᵗ…” ᔆʰᵉ ʰᵉˡᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵃ ⁿᵒᵗᵉ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ˢᵃʸˢ ‘ᴵ ʰⁱᵗ ʳᵒᶜᵏ ᵇᵒᵗᵗᵒᵐ ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉ ᴵ ᵈᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵉᵉᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ‧ ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵈᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵇᵉˡᵒⁿᵍ ˢᵒ ᴵ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ⁱᵗ ᵇᵉˢᵗ‧ ᴺᵒ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ˢᵗʳᵉˢˢᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵐᵉ ᵃⁿʸ ˡᵒⁿᵍᵉʳ; ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ’ ᔆᵃⁱᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵒᵗᵉ‧ “ᴴᵉ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᴷʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ʰᵃᵛᵉⁿ’ᵗ ʸᵉᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉ! ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ʰᵉ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉ?” “ᴵ’ᵐ ˢᵒ ˢᵒʳʳʸ; ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ‧‧” ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰᵉʳ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ˢʰᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃʸ’ˢ ᵉᵛᵉⁿᵗˢ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ ʰᵒʷ ᵇᵃᵈˡʸ ʰᵉ ᵗʳᵉᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ‘ᵂᵃⁱᵗ, ʰᵉ ᵖᵘᵗ ʳᵒᶜᵏ ᵇᵒᵗᵗᵒᵐ…’ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵃⁿ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵘˢ ˢᵗᵒᵖ‧ ᴿᵒᶜᵏ ᴮᵒᵗᵗᵒᵐ’ˢ ᵃⁿ ᵘⁿˢᵉᵗᵗˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ, ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵏⁿᵉʷ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵉᵛᵉⁿᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ˢᵃʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ˢᵒ ᵇᵃᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ, ʰᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵒᶠᵗ ᶜʳⁱᵉˢ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵏᵉᵖᵗ ˢᵒᵇᵇⁱⁿᵍ‧ “ᴼʰ, ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧” ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵃˢᵖᵉᵈ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵃˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵉᵗᵉˡʸ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵒᵛᵉʳʷʰᵉˡᵐᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵉᵐᵒᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᵒᵛᵉʳ, ʰⁱˢ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵐᵒᵛᵉᵐᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵃʳᵉˡʸ ʳᵒᶜᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵒʳᵗʰ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʷʰⁱᵐᵖᵉʳᵉᵈ‧ “ᴵ’ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ!” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵃⁿ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʷ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˡᵉᵃⁿ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ʰⁱᵐ‧ “ᴵ ʷᵃˢ ʷʳᵒⁿᵍ‧ ᴵ ʷᵃˢ ᵇᵘˢʸ, ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ⁱˢⁿ’ᵗ ᵃⁿʸ ᵉˣᶜᵘˢᵉ ᵗᵒ ʰᵘʳᵗ ʸᵒᵘ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ᵐᵉ ʰᵃᵖᵖʸ; ᵒ ˢᵒ ʰᵃᵖᵖʸ!” “ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ᵇᵉˡᵒⁿᵍ…” “ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵉˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵃˢ ᵃⁿʸ ᵒᶠ ᵘˢ‧ ᴵ’ᵈ ʳᵃᵗʰᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ, ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿⁿᵒᵗ ⁱᵐᵃᵍⁱⁿᵉ ˡⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ᵃⁿʸ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ! ᵂᵉ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ʸᵒᵘ; ᴵ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧” ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵉᵗ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢⁱᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʳⁱᵈᵉ ʰᵒᵐᵉ, ᵉˣᵖˡᵃⁱⁿⁱⁿᵍ ʷʰʸ ʰᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ‧ ᴴᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ʳᵉˡᵃˣᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵈʳᵒʷˢʸ ᵃˢ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵉˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵘˢ ʳⁱᵈᵉ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʷ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧ ᴴᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖʸ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵉⁿᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ⁿᵒʷ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ˢⁱᵈᵉ‧
~ uH oH mY oNeS aNd ZeRoS look Like TEN. TEN. TEN. TEN. TEN. TEN.
⟭⟬⁷
⠤⢠⡟⠁⢻⡄⠀⠀⠐⠠⠀⠀⠀⠄⠂⠠⠀⠀⠄⢠⣤⣤⣦⠼⢞⠇⠠⠈⣻⡶ ⠛⠋⠁⠁⠀⠙⠚⠛⣲⠶⠀⠀⠄⢄⠉⣶⠁⠀⠀⠀⠙⢧⣄⠀⠀⠅⠀⠁⢈⠠ ⣆⠀⠀⡀⠠⠀⢠⡞⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⠀⢙⣧⠀⠨⢁⠨⢀⠸ ⣽⠀⠸⣿⡿⠀⢸⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⢸⡇⠀⣀⣒⢦⣆⠡ ⣯⡶⠟⠉⠑⠢⢤⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠷⠛⠁⠀⠑⠩⢛ ⠁⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⠠⢂ ⠀⠀⠔⢖⠁⢀⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡊⠲⠀⠈⠄ ⠀⠇⠀⠀⠆⠾⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠁⠈⠀⠀⡀ ⢈⠐⠀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠤⢄ ⠀⠏⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⢀⠀⠀⢀⣀⠀⠘⢀ ⠐⡒⣜⢿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠀⢀⡞⢻⣆⠊⠠ ⣉⣽⠋⠀⠽⣄⣀⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⡾⠁⢾⣿⣿⣧ ⠉⠀⢀⠀⠈⡀⠉⣈⠿⠁⠀⠀⠐⢆⠁⢀⠆⠀⠀⠘⢿⣉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠋⢠ ⣶⠀⠠⠀⠀⢐⣾⠉⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠈⠂⠊⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⢶⡄⠀⠀⠀⢀⠂⣾ ⡗⢨⣥⣦⣌⡈⣹⡄⠀⠀⠀⠡⠀⠀⠀⢀⠈⠁⠀⠈⠀⠀⣸⠃⠀⣀⣤⡀⠄⣻
ᴳᵉᵗ ᔆˡᵉᵉᵖʸ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ “…ᶜᵃⁿⁿᵒᵗ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ…” ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒʷ ᵗᵉˡˡˢ ʰⁱˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧ ᔆᵒ ˢʰᵉ ᵐᵃˢˢᵃᵍᵉˢ ʰⁱᵐ, ʰᵘᵐᵐⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ˢᵒᶠᵗ ᵗᵘⁿᵉ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵗᵉˡˡ ⁱᵗ ʰᵉˡᵖᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ˢⁱⁿᵍⁱⁿᵍ ʷʰᵉⁿᶜᵉ ʰᵉ ˢⁿᵒʳᵉᵈ‧ “ᴳᵒᵒᵈ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧‧” 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: 𝟓𝟎 𝐬𝐞𝐜.
ᵀʰᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿˢ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉʳ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᵇᵉᵈ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉᵈ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵃˢᵗ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ‧ "ᔆᵒʳʳʸ ⁱᶠ ᴵ ˢⁿᵃᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵉᵃʳˡⁱᵉʳ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴵ ʸᵉˡˡᵉᵈ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵉˡˡˢ ʰᵉʳ‧ ᴵᵗ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵘⁿʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵗᵒ ʳᵃⁱˢᵉ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵒᵛᵉʳˡʸ ᵒᵘᵗʷᵃʳᵈˡʸ ᵃᶠᶠᵉᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿᵃᵗᵉ ᵗᵒ‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿ ᵉᵐᵒᵗⁱᵒⁿᵃˡ ᵒʳ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ˢᵉᵉᵐᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵈᵃⁿᵍᵉʳ⸴ ʰᵉ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ‧ ᴱᵃʳˡⁱᵉʳ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ⸴ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ⁿᵉʷ ⁱⁿᵛᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᶠᵃⁱˡᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ‧ "ᴵ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵃⁿᵈ ᶠʳᵘˢᵗʳᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ʲᵘˢᵗ ⁿᵉᵉᵈᵉᵈ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵒʷⁿ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ ᶠᵒʳ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗʰᵉ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ⸴ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠᵃᵘˡᵗ‧ ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵉⁿᵉʳᵍʸ ᵗᵒ ᵏᵉᵉᵖ‧‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᴵ ᵃᵐ ˢᵘʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈⁱᵈ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵇᵉˢᵗ‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ᵈᵒⁿᵉ ⁿᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ʷʳᵒⁿᵍ; ᴵ ˡ⁻ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧" "ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ⸴ ᵐʸ ᵈᵉᵃʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ‧ ᴺᵒʷ ʷᵉ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᵒᵘᵍʰᵗᵗᵃ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵃ ᵈᵃʸ‧‧‧ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ?" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʰᵉᵃʳˢ ʰⁱᵐ ˢⁿᵒʳⁱⁿᵍ ⁿᵒʷ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᵃᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ᵖᵃʳᵗ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁿᵒʳᵐᵃˡˡʸ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ʷʰᵒ'ˢ ᵐᵒˢᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵏᵉ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ⁿᵒʷ⸴ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᶠᵃˡˡᵉⁿ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ‧ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᵒᶠ ⁱᵗ⸴ ˢʰᵉ ˡᵃˢᵗ ˢᵃʷ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᑫᵘⁱᵗᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃᵍᵒ ʷʰᵉⁿ ˢᵗᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ˡᵃᵗᵉ ᵐᵒᵛⁱᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ; ᵃ ᵇᵉⁿᵈʸ ˢᵗʳᵃʷ ⁱⁿ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ᵒᶠ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉⁿ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵍˡᵃᵈ ⁿᵒʷ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢⁿᵒʳᵉᵈ‧ "ᔆʷᵉᵉᵗ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐˢ‧‧" ᔆʰᵉ ʷʰⁱˢᵖᵉʳˢ⸴ ʰᵒᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵐᵃⁱⁿ ⁱⁿ ᵖᵉᵃᶜᵉᶠᵘˡⁿᵉˢˢ‧ ╰ ✧ ・゚∙ ∗ — ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ ⟨ 2 4 8
ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉʳ ᵃᵛᵉʳᵃᵍᵉ ᵈᵃʸ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᴵ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉⁿ ᵉᵃᶜʰ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧ ᴹʸ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵘᵖ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵐᵉ⸴ ᵐᵒˢᵗ ˡⁱᵏᵉˡʸ ʷᵒʳᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵒʳ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ‧ ᴴⁱˢ ᵐᵃⁱⁿ ᵍᵒᵃˡ ⁱˢ ᵗᵒ ʳᵘⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵉⁿᵉᵐʸ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵇᵘˢⁱⁿᵉˢˢ‧ ᴵ ᶠⁱˣ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵏᶠᵃˢᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵉⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵃⁿʸ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵃⁱⁿᵗˢ ᵗᵒ‧ ᴵ ʳᵉᵐⁱⁿᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗʳᵃˢʰ‧ ᴵ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ʰⁱˢ ᵖˡᵃⁿˢ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵍᵉᵗˢ ᵐᵃᵈ ᵉᵃˢⁱˡʸ‧ ᴴᵉ ʷᵃⁿᵗˢ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵇⁱᵍ ᵒʳ ᵃᵗ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵐᵃˡˡ‧ ᔆᵒ ᴵ ᵗʳʸ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒᶠᶠ ⁱᶠ ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ‧ ᔆᵒᵐᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ʷᵉ ᵇⁱᶜᵏᵉʳ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᶜᵃˡᵐ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵒʳ ᴵ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵉⁿᵈ ᵘᵖ ᶠᵒʳᶜⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒᵘᵗᵈᵒᵒʳˢ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃᵗ ˡᵘⁿᶜʰ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵍᵒᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵘⁿᶜʰ ʳᵘˢʰ ᵃᵗ ʳⁱᵛᵃˡ ʳᵉˢᵗᵃᵘʳᵃⁿᵗ ᴷʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᴷʳᵃᵇ‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ᶠᵃⁱˡˢ ᵃᵗ ˢᵗᵉᵃˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ ʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵉˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ‧ "ᵀᵒˡᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵒ" ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵍʳᵉᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵃʳᶜᵃˢᵗⁱᶜᵃˡˡʸ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵈᵒ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵖᵘˢʰ ⁱᵗ ʷʰᵉⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵉˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ᵐⁱˢᵉʳᵃᵇˡᵉ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵉ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᶜʳᵘˢʰᵉᵈ‧ ᴵ ᵗʳʸ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉˡᵖ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗᵉⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵒᵈ‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿ ⁱᵗ ᵍᵉᵗˢ ᵗᵒ ᵉᵛᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ ʷᵉ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵒᵘʳ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ‧ ᔆᵒᵐᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ⁱᶠ ʰᵉ ʷᵃⁿᵗˢ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃʸ ʷᵒʳᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᴵ ᵐᵃʸ ᵍᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᵐʸ ᵍᵃˡ ᵖᵃˡˢ‧ ᴼᵗʰᵉʳʷⁱˢᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵉᵃᵗˢ ᵈⁱⁿⁿᵉʳ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒᵍᵉᵗʰᵉʳ‧ ᴴᵉ ˡᵒᵛᵉˢ ᵐᵒᵛⁱᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ ᵍᵉᵗˢ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ᵒⁿᵉ‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᵇᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵉᵗˢ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʰⁱᵐ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵗᵘᶜᵏⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ⁱⁿ‧ ᴵᶠ ᴵ'ᵐ ˡᵘᶜᵏʸ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ᵐᵉ ᵃ ʰᵘᵍ ᵒʳ ᵏⁱˢˢ ⁱᶠ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒᵒᵈ‧ ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʰᵉ ᵈᵉᵉᵖ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ˡᵒᵛᵉˢ ᵐᵉ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢʰᵒʷ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵃᶠᶠᵉᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ‧ ᴰᵉᵖᵉⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ʰᵒʷ ᵉˣʰᵃᵘˢᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃʸ ʷᵃˢ⸴ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᶜᵃʳʳʸ ʰⁱᵐ ˡⁱᶠᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ ᴵ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵗʳʸ ᵗᵒ ᵏᵉᵉᵖ ᑫᵘⁱᵉᵗ ʷʰᵉⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ʰᵉ'ˢ ʷᵃⁿᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ˢᵒ ᵃˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ʳⁱˡᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵘᵖ‧ ᴬᵗ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᵇᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˢᵒᶠᵗˡʸ ˢⁿᵒʳᵉ ʷʰᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᴵ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʰⁱᵐ ʰᵒʷ ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴬˢ ᶠᵒʳ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ʰᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵃᵈ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗᵐᵃʳᵉˢ⸴ ᴵ ᵗʳʸ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵏᵉⁿ ᵘᵖ ᵍᵉⁿᵗˡʸ ʷⁱᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗˡᵉ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴵ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᵈᵒ ᵐʸ ᵇᵉˢᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵒᵒᵗʰᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᶜᵃˡᵐˡʸ ⁱⁿ ʰᵒᵖᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉˡᵃˣ ʰⁱᵐ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗᵒ ᶠᵃˡˡ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉ ʳᵘᵈᵉ ᵃᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʰᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉ ᵃ ˢᵒᶠᵗⁱᵉ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ʷᵃʸ; ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉⁿᵈ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃʸ ʷᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵃˡˡ ᵃʷᵃʳᵉ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ʷᵉ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵉᵃᶜʰ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ‧
ᴳᵉᵗ ᵁᵖ 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: 𝟏 𝐦𝐢𝐧. ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵘᵖ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʰᵉʳ ˢᵉᵃᵗ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ⁿᵒʷ ᶠᵃˡˡᵉⁿ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ⁱⁿ ᶜʰᵃⁱʳ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵍᵉⁿᵗˡʸ ˢʰᵒᵒᵏ ʰⁱˢ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈᵉʳ ˢⁱᵍʰᵗˡʸ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵇᵘᵈᵍᵉ⸴ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ᵃʲᵃʳ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉᵈ⸴ ˢᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᶜᵒⁿᵗⁱⁿᵘᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ ᴵ'ˡˡ ˡᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ʳᵉˢᵗ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ‧ ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵒʳ ᵐᵘˢᵗ ᴵ ᶜᵃʳʳʸ ʸᵒᵘ?" ᴺᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ‧ "ᴳᵘᵉˢˢ ᴵ'ᵐ ᶜᵃʳʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗʰᵉⁿ‧ ᴵ'ᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵈⁱˢᵗᵘʳᵇ ʸᵒᵘ ⁱᶠ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ʰᵃʳᵈᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ʳᵒᵘˢᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵉᵃˢⁱˡʸ ᵖᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵐʸˢᵉˡᶠ‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁿᵒʷ ᵖᵘᵗˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁱⁿ ᵇᵉᵈ⸴ ʷⁱᵖⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵈʳᵒᵒˡ ᵒᶠᶠ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵒᵏᵉ ⁿᵃᵗᵘʳᵃˡˡʸ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ᵃˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵘᵖ‧ "ᵂʰᵃᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ⁱˢ ⁱᵗ?" "ᵀⁱᵐᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᵘˢ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵘᵖ!" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃⁿˢʷᵉʳᵉᵈ‧
ᔆⁱᵈᵉ ᵇʸ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᴼⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᶠ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʰʳᵉʷ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳᵃᵖᵖˡⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵒᵒᵏ ᵃˢ ⁱᵗ ᵃᵗᵗᵃᶜʰᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᶠ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ‧ ᔆᵉᶜᵘʳⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᵗ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍᵒᵗ ᶻⁱᵖ ˡⁱⁿᵉ ᵐᵉᶜʰᵃⁿⁱˢᵐ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʲᵘᵐᵖᵉᵈ ˢˡⁱᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ᵈᵒʷⁿ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵃʷ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃᵇᵒᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵃᵈ ʷʰᵉⁿ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵖᵉ ˢᵗʳⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ ˢᵉᵛᵉʳᵉᵈ ⁱᵗ‧ ᶠᵃˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ʰᵉᵃᵈᶠⁱʳˢᵗ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰⁱᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵃʳᵈ ᶜᵉᵐᵉⁿᵗ ᵒⁿᶜᵉ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵈᵒʷⁿ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵒⁿ ᵇˡᵘʳʳᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵃᵈᵉᵈ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ⁿᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍⁿᵉˢˢ⸴ ᵘⁿᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ ⁱᵗ ᵃˡˡ ᵘⁿᶠᵒˡᵈ ʰᵉˡᵖˡᵉˢˢˡʸ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᶠʳᵒᶻᵉ ᵃˢ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᶠᵒʳᵐ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵖᵖᵃʳᵃᵗᵘˢ ʰⁱᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵃʷᵃʸ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ʳᵉˢᵗᵃᵘʳᵃⁿᵗ ˡᵉᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᴴⁱˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵃᵗᵒˢᵉ ᵇᵒᵈʸ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉᵃʳᵗ ᵇᵉᵃᵗ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ˢᵘʳᵉ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ˢʰᵒʷ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ⁱⁿᵈⁱᶜᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵒᶠ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳʷⁱˢᵉ⸴ ⁿᵒʳ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ʰᵉ ᵃᶜᵏⁿᵒʷˡᵉᵈᵍᵉ ˢᵘʳʳᵒᵘⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍˢ ᵃˢ ᵈᵉᵃᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳˡᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᶜᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵈᵉᵃᵈ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵃᶜᵗ ᵒʳ ᵈᵒ ᵃⁿʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˢᑫᵘᵉᵉᶻᵉ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ‧ "ᵂᵉ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵗʳᵉᵉᵗ ᵃᵗ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷᵉʳᵉ ʰᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ⸴ ˢᵒ ʰᵉ ˢᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘᶜʰ ᵃˢ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵐᵒᵉᵇᵃ ᵖᵘᵖᵖʸ ᵗʳᵒᵗˢ ᵒᵛᵉʳ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ʷʰⁱᵐᵖᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵏⁱˢˢᵉˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ʳᵉˢᵖᵒⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵒᵗˢ ˡⁱᶜᵏⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢˡⁱᵍʰᵗᵉˢᵗ! "ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ᵇʳᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʰᵒᵐᵉ‧‧" ᶜʳⁱᵉᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵉᵃʳˡⁱᵉʳ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍⁱʳˡˢ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ᵗᵉˣᵗᵉᵈ 'ˢᵒʳʳʸ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ⁱˢ ⁱⁿ ˢᵉⁿˢᵉˡᵉˢˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵃ' ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵉˣᵗᵉᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵈᵉˢᵖᵉʳᵃᵗᵉ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵃᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᶠˡⁱⁿᶜʰ ᵒʳ ˢʰᵒʷ ᵐᵒᵛᵉᵐᵉⁿᵗ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿᵉʳ‧ "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵇᵃᵈ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ʷᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ ˢᵗʳᵉᵃᵐ ᵈᵒʷⁿ‧ "ᴵ ʷᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ᵘᵖ ᵒⁿ⸴ ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉʷʰᵉʳᵉ ⁱⁿ‧‧" ᔆᵒᵇᵇⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖᵃᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵃʳᵐ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ʰⁱˢ ˢⁱᵈᵉ‧ ᴹᵉᵃⁿʷʰⁱˡᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵃⁿᵈʸ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᶜʰᵃᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ‧ "ᴺᵒᵗⁱᶠⁱᶜᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᴵ'ᵈ ˢⁱˡᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᵐʸ ᵖʰᵒⁿᵉ! ᴼʰ ʰᵒʷ ᵈᵃʳᵉ ʰᵉ‧‧‧" ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢᵗᵒᵖˢ ᵃˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ᵉˣᵖʳᵉˢˢⁱᵒⁿ ᶜʰᵃⁿᵍᵉᵈ‧ "ᔆᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵐᵘˢᵗ ᵇᵉ ʷʳᵒⁿᵍ‧‧‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ʰᵘʳᵗ‽ ᔆᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵃᵈ ᵐᵘˢᵗ'ᵛᵉ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ‧" ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷᵉᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧ "ᵂʰᵉʳᵉ'ˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ?" ᵀʰᵉʸ ˢᵃʷ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵇᵃʳᵏᵉᵈ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉᵐ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶻⁱᵖ ˡⁱⁿᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵒʷ ʰᵉ ᵉⁿᵈᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵈᵉᵉᵖˡʸ ᵘⁿᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵉᵗᵉˡʸ ˡⁱᵐᵖ‧ "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᶜᵃⁿ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᵒʳ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ?" ᔆʰᵉ ᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ⸴ ᵉˣᵃᵐⁱⁿⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴺᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ʷᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵈᵒ ᵗᵒⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵇᵉ ᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ʳᵒᵘˢᵉ ᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢⁿᵉˢˢ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃᵗ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳⁿᵒᵒⁿ‧‧" ᔆᵃⁱᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ˢᵃʷ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ˢᵃᵈ ʷᵃᵍ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᵗᵃⁱˡ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵖᵘˡˡᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵃ ᶜʰᵃⁱʳ ᵇʸ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃᵈʲᵃᶜᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘᶜʰ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵃᵗ‧ ᴴᵉ ʰᵉˡᵈ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ˡᵃᵖ‧ "ᴴᵉˡˡᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ; ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ⁿᵒ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵐᵉ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ ˡⁱᵏᵉˡʸ ᵗᵒ ⁱᵐᵖʳᵒᵛᵉ! ᵂᵉ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧" ᵀʰᵉ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵉⁿˢᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵍᵃⁱⁿ ʷᵃˢ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵘᶠᶠˡᵉᵈ ˢᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵒᶠ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ʷᵃʸ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ "ᴵ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃᵈᵒᵖᵗᵉᵈ ˢᵖᵒᵗ‧‧" ᔆᵃⁱᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵇʸ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ ʸᵉᵗ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈⁿ'ᵗ ˢᵘᵐᵐᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉⁿᵉʳᵍʸ ᵗᵒ ʳᵒᵘˢᵉ ⁿᵒʳ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ʸᵉᵗ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵃˢⁿ'ᵗ ᵃˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵃᵗᵒˢᵉ ᵃˢ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵍⁿⁱˢᵉᵈ ˢᵖᵒᵗ'ˢ ᵇʸ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᵉᵃᵍᵉʳ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵉʸᵉˡⁱᵈ ᵇᵃʳᵉˡʸ ᵗʷⁱᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉᵈ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵃˢᵖᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵉˣᶜⁱᵗᵉᵐᵉⁿᵗ ᵘᵖᵒⁿ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵐᵒᵛᵉᵐᵉⁿᵗ‧ "ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ᵐⁱˢˢᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʷʰᵒᵐ ʷᵉ ᵃˡˡ ᵏⁿᵒʷ‧‧‧" ᶜᵒᵃˣᵉᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉᵍⁱⁿ ʷᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ‧ ᴴᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ⁿᵘᵈᵍᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵘⁿᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵃᶜᵗ ᵈⁱʳᵉᶜᵗˡʸ‧ ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢⁱᵍʰᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢˡᵒʷˡʸ ᵒᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᵗᵒ‧ ⱽⁱˢⁱᵒⁿ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵒ ᵇˡᵘʳʳʸ ⁿᵒʷ ʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵇᵃʳᵉˡʸ ˡⁱᶠᵗ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ‧ "ᴹᵐ‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧" "ᵁᵒʸ⸴ ʷʰᵃ?" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵇˡⁱⁿᵏᵉᵈ‧ "ᵂʰᵉʳᵉ‧‧" ᶠᵉᵉˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵍʳᵒᵍᵍʸ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵃˡˡ ᶠⁱⁿᵃˡˡʸ ʳᵉᵍⁱˢᵗᵉʳᵉᵈ‧ "ᴼᵘ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵘˡˡ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉ ˢʰᵃʳᵖᵉʳ‧ "ᵂʰᵉʳᵉ⸴ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ; ᵍᵃʰ⸴ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵈ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ "ᵂʰᵃ⸴ ʷʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ‽" ᴴᵉ'ᵈ ᶠⁱⁿᵃˡˡʸ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ᶠᵘˡˡ ˢᵉⁿᵗᵉⁿᶜᵉ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᶻⁱᵖ ˡⁱⁿᵉ ᵇᵘᵗ ᶠᵉˡˡ; ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ˢᵘʳᵉ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᶜᵃʳᵉ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᵃˡˢᵒ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘ‧" ᴬⁿˢʷᵉʳᵉᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧ "ᴵᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ ʸᵉˢᵗᵉʳᵈᵃʸ⸴ ˢᵒ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵗʳᵒᵏᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵃʳᵐ‧ ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ ᵗᵒ ᵈⁱᶻᶻʸ ᵗᵒ ˢⁱᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵉᵗ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵉˡᵖ ʰⁱᵐ ᵘᵖʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ˢᵒ ᵃˢ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵃ ᵈʳⁱⁿᵏ ᵒᶠ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ‧ "ᵀʰᵃⁿᵏˢ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵐᵃⁿᵃᵍᵉᵈ‧ "ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵖᵃᶜᵉ?" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ‧ "ᔆᵗᵃʸ‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ˡᵉᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ‧‧‧" "ᴵ'ᵐ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʳᵉˢᵗ⸴ ʰᵒˡᵈ ᵐʸ ʰᵃⁿᵈ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ⸴ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ᵇʸ ˢⁱᵈᵉ‧
Fandom: SpongeBob SquarePants (Cartoon) Relationship: Karen/Sheldon J. Plankton Characters: Karen (SpongeBob)Sheldon J. Plankton Language: English https://archiveofourown.org/works/53451349 My Tiny Genius RibbonDee Summary: After a long day of once again trying and failing to steal the Krabby Patty Secret Formula, Plankton is feeling down in the dumps. It's up to Karen to cheer him up.
ᔆᵃᶜʳⁱᶠⁱᶜⁱⁿᵍ ⤥ 𝐂𝐖:𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐯𝐢𝟎𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ pt. 1 ⤥ 𝐂𝐖:𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐯𝐢𝟎𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵃˢ ʳᵘⁿⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵘᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵉᶜʳᵉᵗ ᵇᵒᵗᵗˡᵉ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵇᵘᵇᵇˡᵉ ᵇᵃˢˢ ʷᵃˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵃⁱⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ᵖᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵖⁱᶜᵏˡᵉˢ! ᵂʰʸ ˢᵒ ᵐᵃⁿʸ ᵖⁱᶜᵏˡᵉˢ? ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ᵖⁱᶜᵏˡᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳˢᵉˡᶠ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵃˢ ᵃ ᵗᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵃʷᵃʸ⸴ ᵇᵃᶜᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵃʷᵃʸ ᵃˢ ᵇᵘᵇᵇˡᵉ ᵇᵃˢˢ ᵗʰʳᵉᵃᵗᵉⁿᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵇᵉ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ‧ ᴱᵛᵉⁿ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ‧ ᴾⁱᶜᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵃᵖᵏⁱⁿ ᵈⁱˢᵖᵉⁿˢᵉʳ⸴ ᵇᵘᵇᵇˡᵉ ᵇᵃˢˢ ʷᵃˢ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰᵘʳᵗ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵛᵉ‧ "ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᶜᵃᵗᶜʰ!" ᴴᵉ ʸᵉˡˡᵉᵈ⸴ ᵗʰʳᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵗᵗˡᵉ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵉᵗʷᵉᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ'ˡˡ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵉᵃˡ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐᵉ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ!" ᴬⁿᵍʳⁱˡʸ⸴ ᵇᵘᵇᵇˡᵉ ᵇᵃˢˢ ᵘˢᵉᵈ ᵃˡˡ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵗʳᵉⁿᵍᵗʰ ᵗᵒ ᶜʰᵘⁿᵏ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵃᵖᵏⁱⁿ ᵈⁱˢᵖᵉⁿˢᵉʳ‧ ᔆᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ʰᵘʳˡ ⁱᵗ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗᵒᵒᵈ ⁱⁿ ᶠʳᵒⁿᵗ ᵒᶠ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵃᵖᵏⁱⁿ ᵈⁱˢᵖᵉⁿˢᵉʳ ʰⁱᵗ ʰⁱᵐ⸴ ˢᵗʳⁱᵏⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ‧ ᴴᵃʳᵈ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʸᵉˡᵖᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ⁱᵗ ᵖᵒᵘⁿᵈᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ⸴ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ˡⁱᵐᵖ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵘⁿᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢ‧ ᴱᵛᵉⁿ ᵇᵘᵇᵇˡᵉ ᵇᵃˢˢ ˢᵗᵒᵒᵈ ˢⁱˡᵉⁿᵗˡʸ ⁱⁿ ˢʰᵒᶜᵏ⸴ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵉᵗᵉˡʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵘᵗᵗᵉʳˡʸ ᵏⁿᵒᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵃⁿ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶜʳⁱᵉᵈ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵘˢʰᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵘˢᵗᵒᵐᵉʳˢ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ 'ᶜˡᵒˢᵉᵈ' ˢⁱᵍⁿ‧ ᴱᵛᵉⁿ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᶜᵒⁿᶜᵉʳⁿᵉᵈ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵍᵒ ᵖᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵗᵗˡᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵐᵉ ˢᵃᶠᵉ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵈᵃᵐᵖ ᶜˡᵒᵗʰ ʳᵃᵍ ʷⁱᵖᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵖᵘᵗ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᶠˡⁱⁿᶜʰ ᵒʳ ᵐᵒᵛᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢˡⁱᵍʰᵗᵉˢᵗ‧ "ᴴᵉ ˡᵒᵒᵏˢ ˡⁱᶠᵉˡᵉˢˢ⸴ ˢᵖʳᵃʷˡᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉᵐᵖˡᵒʸᵉᵉˢ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵉⁿˢᵉˢ ᵈⁱᵈ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ʳᵉᵗᵘʳⁿ⸴ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉᵇʳᵒʷ ᶠᵘʳʳᵒʷᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ᵇᵉᵍⁱⁿⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ‧ "ᴴⁱ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᵃ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵃˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᶠˡᵘᵗᵗᵉʳˢ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ‧ "ᴬᵃᵃ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵐᵃⁿᵃᵍᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵘᵗᵗᵉʳ‧ ᴴᵉ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵒᵛᵉ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ ˢʷⁱʳˡᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ˢᵗʳᵘᵍᵍˡᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵒᵐᵖʳᵉʰᵉⁿᵈ‧ "ᵁⁿ‧‧‧" "ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ˢⁱᵗ ᵘᵖ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ?" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵒᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉˡᵖᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵈʳⁱⁿᵏ ⁱᵗ‧ "ᴬʰᵘʰ⸴ ᵒʷ‧ ᵂʰᵃ‧‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ ˢˡᵒʷ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ˢᵃᶠᵉ‧ ʸᵒᵘ'ˡˡ ᵇᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᶠⁱⁿᵉ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ?" "ʸᵉˢ⸴ ᴵ'ᵐ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘ‧ ᴵ ᵍᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘ‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵘᵐᵐᵒⁿ ˢᵗʳᵉⁿᵍᵗʰ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵗᵃⁿᵈ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ⁿᵒᵗ‧ "ᴺᵒᵗ ˢᵒ ᶠᵃˢᵗ!" ᔆᵃⁱᵈ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ‧ ᴴᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱᵐᵖᵃᶜᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ʰⁱᵗ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ⁱⁿᵗᵉⁿˢᵉ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃᵘᵍʰᵗ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴰᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵉˡᵖᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵉᵗᵗˡᵉ‧ "ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᶜᵃⁿ ᴵ ᵍᵒ ʰᵒᵐᵉ ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵒᵘʳ ᶜˡᵒˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ?" "ʸᵉˢ ᴹʳ‧ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ‧" ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵇᵉⁿᵗ ᵈᵒʷⁿ‧ "ᴶᵘˢᵗ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ˢᵘʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵍᵉᵗ ʷᵉˡˡ ʳᵉˢᵗᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧" ᴴᵉ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ˡᵉᶠᵗ‧ "ᶜᵃⁿ ᴵ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ᵗᵃˡᵏ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃ ᵐᵒᵐᵉⁿᵗ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵉ?" "ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵇᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵐᵉ ᵒᶠᶠⁱᶜᵉ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ˢᵖᵃᶜᵉ‧ "ᴵ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵇᵘᵇᵇˡᵉ ᵇᵃˢˢ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵗᵗˡᵉ ᴵ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʰᵘʳᵗ ʸᵒᵘ⸴ ᴵ ˢᵃʷ ʰⁱᵐ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵃᵖᵏⁱⁿ ᵈⁱˢᵖᵉⁿˢᵉʳ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᵉⁿᵈᵃⁿᵍᵉʳᵉᵈ ʸᵒᵘʳˢᵉˡᶠ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ᵘᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵗᵗˡᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵐᵉ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰʸ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ˢᵃᵈ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʷ ʰⁱᵐ ᶜʳʸⁱⁿᵍ‧ "ᵂᵉ'ᵛᵉ ˢᵖᵉⁿᵗ ʰᵃˡᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵈᵃʸ ᶠᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳˢᵗ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᶜᵒˡᵈ ᵃˢ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒᵗ ʰⁱᵗ‧ ᔆᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵉʸᵉ ʳᵒˡˡ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵘᵍᵍᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴰᵒⁿ'ᵗ ˢᑫᵘᵉᵉᶻᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗⁱᵍʰᵗˡʸ ʰᵃʳᵈ!" "ᔆᵒʳʳʸ‧‧‧" "ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ʰᵒˡᵈ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᶠᶠⁱᶜᵉ‧ "ᴳᵒᵗᵗᵃ ˡᵒᶜᵏ ᵘᵖ⸴ ᵇᵒʸ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵒᵐᵉ?" "ʸᵉˢ⸴ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ ˢᵗᵃʸ‧‧‧" "ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʷ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᵇʳⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ⁱⁿ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵇʳᵘⁱˢᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵉᵃᵈ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵐᵒᵉᵇᵃ ᵖᵘᵖᵖʸ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍʳᵉᵉᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿᵉʳ‧ "ᴼʰ‧‧‧" "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᴵ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ᵐʸ ˢⁱᵈᵉ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵉˡᵖᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵒᶠᵃ‧ "ᴬ ᶜᵘˢᵗᵒᵐᵉʳ ʷᵃˢ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃʳᵐ ᵐᵉ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱⁿʲᵘʳʸ‧‧‧" "ᴵ‧‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ˡᵉᵗ ᵐᵉ ᶠⁱⁿⁱˢʰ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ‧ ᔆᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵘˢᵗᵒᵐᵉʳ ᵗʰʳᵉʷ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈˢ ᵒⁿ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰᵉʳ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵐᵉ ⁿᵃᵖᵏⁱⁿ ᵈⁱˢᵖᵉⁿˢᵉʳ⸴ ˢᵗᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ ʳᵉᵈ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ʰᵉ ᵇˡᵉᵉᵈ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‽" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶜᵃᵘᵍʰᵗ ʰᵉʳ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰ‧ to be cont. Pt. 2
ᔆⁱᵈᵉ ᵇʸ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᴼⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᶠ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʰʳᵉʷ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳᵃᵖᵖˡⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵒᵒᵏ ᵃˢ ⁱᵗ ᵃᵗᵗᵃᶜʰᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᶠ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ‧ ᔆᵉᶜᵘʳⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᵗ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍᵒᵗ ᶻⁱᵖˡⁱⁿᵉ ᵐᵉᶜʰᵃⁿⁱˢᵐ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʲᵘᵐᵖᵉᵈ ˢˡⁱᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ᵈᵒʷⁿ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵃʷ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃᵇᵒᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵃᵈ ʷʰᵉⁿ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵖᵉ ˢᵗʳⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ ˢᵉᵛᵉʳᵉᵈ ⁱᵗ‧ ᶠᵃˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ʰᵉᵃᵈᶠⁱʳˢᵗ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰⁱᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵃʳᵈ ᶜᵉᵐᵉⁿᵗ ᵒⁿᶜᵉ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵈᵒʷⁿ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʷ ᵃⁿᵈ ʳᵃⁿ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʰⁱᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ⸴ ˢᵗᵃⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᵘᵖ‧ ᴴᵒʷᵉᵛᵉʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵉʸᵉ ʳᵒˡˡᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵘᵗᵗᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵃ ⁿᵒⁱˢᵉ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡˡ⸴ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃᵗᶜʰⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᶠᵃⁱⁿᵗ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵃʷᵃʸ ˡᵉᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉᵐ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵃˢ ᵘⁿᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵍᵃⁱⁿ ᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢⁿᵉˢˢ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᴸⁱˢᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ ⁱⁿ ᵈᵉˢᵖᵉʳᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷᵉʳᵉ ʰᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᵍⁱʳˡˢ ᵗʳⁱᵖ⸴ ˢᵒ ʰᵉ ˢᵉᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵒᵈʸ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘᶜʰ ᵃˢ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵐᵒᵉᵇᵃ ᵖᵘᵖᵖʸ ᵗʳᵒᵗˢ ᵒᵛᵉʳ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ʷʰⁱᵐᵖᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵏⁱˢˢᵉˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ʳᵉˢᵖᵒⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵒᵗˢ ˡⁱᶜᵏⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢˡⁱᵍʰᵗᵉˢᵗ! "ᴵ ᵇʳᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʰᵒᵐᵉ‧‧" ᶜʳⁱᵉᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ ᵀʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ⸴ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ ˢᵗʳᵉᵃᵐ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᶠᵃᶜᵉ‧ "ᴾˡᵉᵃˢᵉ ᵒʰ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧" ᔆᵒᵇᵇⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖᵃᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵃʳᵐ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ʰⁱˢ ˢⁱᵈᵉ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵖᵘˡˡᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵃ ᶜʰᵃⁱʳ ᵇʸ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃᵈʲᵃᶜᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘᶜʰ‧ ᴴᵉ ʰᵉˡᵈ ˢᵖᵒᵗ‧ "ᴵ'ˡˡ ˢᵖᵉⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ˢᵒ ʷᵉ'ˡˡ ᵇᵉ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ᵇʸ ˢⁱᵈᵉ‧‧" ᵀʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃʷᵒᵏᵉ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ "ᴳᵒᵒᵈ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵈᵉᵃʳ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ! ᴵ ʰᵒᵖᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵉᵗ ᶠᵉᵉˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿʸ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ‧ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵐⁱˢˢᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵘˢ!" ᴷⁱˢˢⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᶠᵒʳᵉʰᵉᵃᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃᵗ ᵇʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ "ᔆʰᵒʷ ᵐᵉ ᵃ ˢⁱᵍⁿ‧‧‧" ᶜʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ⸴ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵃᵈ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ ʷᵃⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ‧ "ᵂʰᵃᵗ ᵇᵒᵒᵏˢ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ᵃ ᵇᵒᵒᵏ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵃᵇˡᵉ‧ "ᴬ ᵇᵒᵒᵏ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ⁿᵘᶜˡᵉᵃʳ ᵖᵒʷᵉʳ‧‧" ᶜʰᵘᶜᵏˡᵉᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ˢⁱᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ "ᴵ'ˡˡ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵍⁱⁿⁿⁱⁿᵍ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵒᵗ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ʰⁱˢ ᵖʰᵒⁿᵉ‧ 'ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ? ᴵ ᵃᵐ ᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʰᵒᵘˢᵉ‧‧' ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ᵃⁿˢʷᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵖʰᵒⁿᵉ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ!" ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ʰᵃⁿᵍⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʰᵒⁿᵉ⸴ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵇᵒᵒᵏ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵃˡᶠ ᵒᶠ ⁱᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵖᵃʳᵗⁱᶜᵘˡᵃʳˡʸ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ᵏᵉᵖᵗ ᵒⁿ ʳᵉᵃᵈⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ‧‧ ᴾᵉᵗˢ ᵃʳᵉ ˢᵐᵃʳᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶜᵃⁿ ˢᵉⁿˢᵉ⸴ ˢᵒ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵃ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ⁱᵐᵐᵉᵈⁱᵃᵗᵉˡʸ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ⁿᵘᵈᵍᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵈᵉᵗᵉᶜᵗᵉᵈ ˢˡᵒʷˡʸ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢᵘʳᵉˡʸ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵛᵉʳʸ‧ "ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ˡᵒᵛᵉˢ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵒ ᵐᵘᶜʰ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵒ ᵈᵒ ᴵ‧ ᵂᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ʷᵉˡˡ‧ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ˢᵒ ᵃᵐᵃᶻⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᴺᵒ ᵐᵃᵗᵗᵉʳ ʷʰᵃᵗ⸴ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵃ ᵖʳᵒᵐⁱˢᵉ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡⁱᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵏᵉⁿ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᵇᵃʳᵏᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʷ ʰⁱᵐ ᶠⁱⁿᵃˡˡʸ ˢʰᵒʷ ˢˡⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵐᵒᵛᵉᵐᵉⁿᵗ ᵃˢ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᵇᵃʳᵏᵉᵈ‧ "ᴸᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧" ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒ ᵖʳᵒᵘᵈ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠⁱⁿᵃˡˡʸ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵏᵉⁿ ᵘᵖ⸴ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᶠˡᵘᵗᵗᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ‧ "ᵂʰᵃᵗ ᵃʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ⁻ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ʷᵉ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ʰᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ʰᵘʳᵗ‧ "ʸᵃᵒ⸴ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ; ʷʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ‽" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᔆᵃⁱᵈ⸴ ᵈᵃᶻᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ʷᵉᵃᵏ‧ ᴶᵘˢᵗ ᵗʰᵉⁿ⸴ ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ⁱⁿ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵇᵒᵃʳᵈ ᵍᵃᵐᵉ‧ "ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ‧‧" "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᴵ ᵇʳᵘⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵃᵐᵉ!" ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ᵖˡᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉᵐ‧ "ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ᵘˢ ᵃ ᵐᵒᵐᵉⁿᵗ ᴾᵃᵗ?" "ᔆᵘʳᵉ‧‧" ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ᵖˡᵃʸᵉᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ˢᵖᵒᵗ‧ "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᶜᵒⁿᶠᵘˢᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍʳᵒᵍᵍʸ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍᵒᵗ ʰᵘʳᵗ‧ ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵉˡˡ ᵐᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ?" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵉˡᵖᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢⁱᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᵘᵖ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ʷᵃˢ ᵈⁱˢᵒʳⁱᵉⁿᵗᵉᵈ‧ "ᵀʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᶠ ᵒᶠ ʳᵉˢᵗᵃᵘʳᵃⁿᵗ'ˢ‧‧" "ʸᵉˢᵗᵉʳᵈᵃʸ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˢⁱᵈᵉ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ᵃˡˢᵒ ˢᵗᵃʸᵉᵈ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ᵇʸ ˢⁱᵈᵉ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᴵ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᴵ ʷᵃˢⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵒᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵖˡᵃʸ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱᵐ‧" "ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵉᵉ ᵐᵉ ᵃˢ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ?" "ᴼᶠ ᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ! ᴺᵒʷ ˡᵉᵗ'ˢ ˢᵉᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵍᵃᵐᵉ ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ'ˢ ᵍᵒᵗ‧‧" "ᴰᵒᵉˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵖˡᵃʸ?" "ᵂᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵗʳʸ ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ'ˢ ⁿᵉʷ ᵍᵃᵐᵉ!" "ᶠⁱⁿᵉ ᴵ ᵍᵘᵉˢˢ‧‧" "ᶜᵃⁿ ᴵ ᵃˢᵏ ʸᵒᵘ ʷʰʸ ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵉˡᵖ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰᵃᵈ ᵃ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ᶠᵃˡˡ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ⁿᵒʷ! ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ⁿᵒʳᵐᵃˡ ʸᵉᵗ ˢᵒ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵒʳʳʸ‧‧" "ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ʳᵒˡˡ ᵈⁱᶜᵉ ᶠᵒʳ?" "ᴳᵒ ᵃʰᵉᵃᵈ‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ⸴ ʷʰᵒ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᵗᵒˢˢᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈⁱᶜᵉ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈⁱᶜᵉ ᵘⁿⁱⁿᵗᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿᵃˡˡʸ ʰⁱᵗ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵈᵃᶻᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ᵐᵒᵐᵉⁿᵗ‧ "ᵂᵃᵗᶜʰ ⁱᵗ!" ᴴᵉ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ʷᵉᵃᵏˡʸ‧ "ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵃᵐᵉ'ˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉˢᵗ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵒʷ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃⁿᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ⁿᵒᵗ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵛᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ⸴ ᶠʳᵘˢᵗʳᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʰᵘʳᵗ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ʰᵉˡᵖ?" ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ "ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʰᵉˡᵖ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢⁿᵃᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ‧ "ᴵ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ʰᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗˢ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵛᵉʳ⸴ ᴾᵃᵗ‧ ᴵ'ˡˡ ᶜᵃᵗᶜʰ ᵘᵖ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃᵗ ᵃⁿ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵘᵍᵍᵉᵈ ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ‧ ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ⸴ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵃˢ⸴ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ ʷᵉˡˡ ᵘᵖ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ‧ "ᵂʰᵃᵗ ⁱˢ ʷʳᵒⁿᵍ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵘᵖ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘᶜʰ!" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃʳʳⁱᵛᵉᵈ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʰᵉʳ ᵗʳⁱᵖ‧ "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ! ᴼʰ ᴵ ᵃᵐ ᵍˡᵃᵈ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵉˣᵖˡᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʷ ʰⁱˢ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᵃˢ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉʳ‧ "ᴴᵉʸ‧‧" "ᴴⁱ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ; ᴵ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʸᵉˢᵗᵉʳᵈᵃʸ!" "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵉˡᵖᵉᵈ ᵐᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ ᶜᵃⁿ ʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃʸ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ?" "ᴵ ˢᵘʳᵉ ʷⁱˡˡ!"
SWEET CWEAM pt. 2 Plankton's gaze shifted to the ceiling, where shadows danced in the harsh fluorescent light. He tried to remember, but his thoughts were like grains of sand slipping through his fingers. "Karen," he whispered, his voice tiny and lost. "My tweef?" Her smile never wavered, her eyes steady on his. "Don't worry about your teeth now. They're all taken care of." Plankton's mind raced, trying to grasp the concept of missing teeth. He swallowed, the movement painfully sluggish in his throat. "Buh... buth how?" "They used a special kind of sleepy medicine," she explained, her voice a calm lullaby in the stark reality of the recovery room. "It made sure you didn't feel any pain." Plankton's eye grew rounder still, his curiosity piqued. He felt a strange giggle bubble up from his chest, the absurdity of the situation tickling his funny bone. "Sleeby meds?" he repeated, the words coming out like a slurred song. The nurse, used to seeing patients in various states of post-op confusion, just smiled. "Yes, the sleepy medicine," she said, her voice a comforting lilt. "It's to keep you calm and pain-free." Plankton's eye wandered to the IV drip next to his bed, the clear fluid snaking into his arm. "Meee," he managed. The nurse followed his gaze and explained, "That's just some fluids to keep you hydrated, Mr. Plankton. You've been asleep for a little while." Karen watched as his eye grew distant, his mind adrift in the sea of anesthesia. The drool trickled down his chin, and she tenderly dabbed it away with a tissue. "Do you remember anything?" Plankton's gaze flickered, and a faint smile tugged at his numb lips. "I 'member flying," he murmured, his voice a whisper of a dream. "I thaw youw were thewe," he said, his eye half-closed. "Youw wuz a buttefly." Karen's eyes sparkled with a mix of amusement and concern. "I was a butterfly?" she repeated, playing along. "That's sweet, Plankton." He nodded, his eye glazed with a dreamy expression. "Yew wuz," he insisted, his voice still slurred. Karen couldn't help but laugh, the tension of the day finally breaking. "Okay, my little butterfly," she whispered, her thumb brushing his cheek. "Why don't we go home?" The nurse nodded, preparing the discharge papers. "You can take him now," she said, handing them to Karen. "Make sure he gets plenty of rest and stick to soft foods for the next few days." Karen helped Plankton to his feet, his body protesting the sudden movement. He swayed like a willow in the wind, his arm draped heavily over her shoulders. Together, they shuffled out of the recovery room, his feet dragging against the floor as if tethered to an invisible weight. The numbness in his mouth had spread to his cheeks, giving his face a lopsided smile that made him feel like a clown, his mouth still frozen in a lopsided smile as he chuckles. Karen led him out of the clinic. Plankton’s eye closed as he suddenly tilted onto her, letting out a little snorelike snort. "Plankton, wake up," she giggled, half-supporting his weight. The fresh air hit his face like a slap, waking him up just enough to realize his mouth was still as numb as a brick. He tried to speak, but it was like his tongue had forgotten how to move. "Wha...?" he mumbled, his eye searching for understanding. The world around Plankton was a blur of shapes and colors. "Walky," he slurred, his legs like jelly under him. Karen guided him to the car, his legs moving as if through molasses. Once inside, he fidgeted with the seatbelt, his fingers refusing to cooperate. "Let me," she said, buckling him in, making his eye go wide again. "Thathks," he muttered, “I thee the twess," he said, his voice filled with wonder as if he had just been born. Karen chuckled, starting the car. The engine hummed to life, and Plankton's eye followed the world as it moved past the window, his gaze unfocused and innocent. "Lookit the twess," he said, his voice filled with awe. "They'we aww bending to shay hewwo." Karen couldn't help but laugh at his slurred words. "Yes, they do that when it's windy," she explained, her voice a comforting balm to his confused mind.
KAREN REACHING AUTISM pt. 1 (Autistic author) It happened, during another failed attempt at the krabby patty formula. Plankton tried sneaking through the back when Mr. Krabs saw him. "You again!" Mr. Krabs roared, his eyes bulging like a pair of boiled eggs about to pop. "You're not getting it, I'll make sure of that!" With that, Mr. Krabs swung a nearby frying pan with such ferocity that even SpongeBob flinched. Plankton's tiny body was no match for the metallic beast that was hurtling towards him, and the next thing he knew, his world had gone dark. SpongeBob's eyes widened as he watched his boss's arch-nemesis crumble to the ground, the frying pan clattering loudly beside him. The usually boisterous kitchen was now eerily silent, save for the distant hiss of the fryers. Mr. Krabs' chest heaved with each breath, his claws still poised in the air from the swing. "Mr. Krabs!" Sponge Bob squeaked, his spatula frozen mid-air. "Is he okay?" But Mr. Krabs' has retreated to his own office, leaving Sponge Bob with Plankton. Carefully, Sponge Bob prodded him with his spatula. No response. His single, tiny eyelid was closed. After a while, Plankton stirred. His eye fluttered open, but the world was a jumbled mess. The colors were too bright, the noises too loud, the smells too overwhelming. The kitchen of the Krusty Krab, a place he still knew like the back of his tiny hand, was suddenly a chaotic maelstrom of sensory input that his brain couldn't process. He blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of it all, but the clanging of pots and pans, the sizzling of the fryers, and the garish neon lights just added to the confusion. SpongeBob's face appeared above him, a mask of worry and concern, his porous expression more complex than anything Plankton had ever seen. "Are you okay?" the sponge asked, his voice a gentle wave lapping against the shore of his newfound reality. Plankton nods, running back home to the Chum Bucket. Plankton's computer wife Karen's no stranger to him coming back upset or wanting space. So as Plankton retreats to his room in the Chum Bucket, she doesn't prompt him. Alone in the bedroom, Plankton intensely stared at the wall, his thoughts racing like a tornado. Everything was different now. The once-familiar world had turned on him, and he couldn't understand why. The lights in the Chum Bucket, usually a comfort, now blazed like the sun in his face. The noises, oh, the noises! They were so loud, so overwhelming, like a cacophony of a million tiny bells ringing in his head. He put his hands over his ears, trying to block them out, but even the softest hum seemed to resonate within his skull. Plankton wasn't sure how to process these new sensations. His brain was on overload, and his body felt like it didn't belong to him anymore. He was aware of every tiny detail in his environment, every speck of dust on the floor, every vibration from the floorboards, and it was all too much. He tried to get up, to find solace in his usual routine, but his legs failed him. They trembled and wobbled like Jell-O on a stormy sea. Plankton fell back onto the bed, feeling the softness of the pillow beneath him and the cool metal of the bed frame against his back. It was then that he noticed the pattern of the wallpaper, the tiny, intricate shapes that danced before his eye. They spun and swirled, forming complex mazes that his mind tried desperately to solve. It was mesmerizing, yet terrifying. He was trapped in a world of overstimulation, and he didn't know how to escape.
SWEET CWEAM pt. 7 “So SpongeBob heard all of it?” He demands. Karen nods, her amusement obvious. "Everything. Even your snoring..” Plankton's face goes from flushed to beet-red. "I… what?" he asks, his voice tiny and ashamed. "You don't remember snoring?" Karen asks, barely keeping a straight face. "It was quite the symphony." Plankton's eye widened in horror. "Snoring?" he repeats, not wanting to believe it. "And in front of Sponge Bob?" Karen nods, her laughter bubbling over. "Oh, Plankton," she says, her voice full of affection. "It was the cutest..." "Cute? This isn't cute, Karen!" He interrupts, his voice rising in disbelief. The embarrassment is palpable in his tone. “And besides, I don’t snore!” Her laughter dies down to a chuckle. "Well, you did yesterday," she says, her eyes dancing with mirth. "Whether or not you do, you did." Plankton's face contorts in a mixture of denial and embarrassment. He can't believe what he's hearing, his mind reeling from the revelation. "But... I... snore?" he stammers, his voice a feeble protest. Karen nods, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "You sure did, Plankton," she says, her tone teasing. The color in his cheeks deepens to a crimson red, his eye wide with disbelief. "But... but I don't snore!" Karen's laughter rolls out like a wave, filling the room with warmth. "Maybe not usually," she says, her smile playful. "But yesterday, oh…" Plankton's mind races, trying to grasp the concept. "But how could I not know?" he asks, his voice a mix of indignation and confusion, a desperate whisper. "But I didn't really mean what’s been supposedly said, right?" His eye darts between her and the now-dark TV screen. "I was just... you know, saying things?" Karen's laughter softens into a warm smile. "You did mean it, Plankton," she says, her tone gentle. "At least your subconscious did. It's just the anesthesia that made it come out so... clearly." His face falls, his eye drooping. "So, it's true?" he whispers. The humiliation washes over him like a cold shower, his pride dampened by the knowledge that his deepest thoughts were laid bare for all to see, even if it was just Sponge Bob and his wife. Karen nods, her screen sparkling with amusement. "But it's nothing to be embarrassed about. It's just part of the anesthesia. And besides, you looked so cute and happy, not to mention snoring away.." Just then, SpongeBob comes back to check and visit. "Hi Plankton!" he says cheerfully, his voice like a trumpet in the quiet room. Plankton's head snaps up, his heart racing at the sight of his friend. "Thponge Bob," he slurs, his voice barely audible. "How uh, how are ya?" Sponge Bob's smile is warm and welcoming. "I'm great, Plankton! How are you feeling?" Plankton's eye darts to Karen, who's still smiling, before returning to his friend. "I'm... I'm ok," he mumbles, his voice barely above a whisper. The embarrassment of his earlier admission weighs heavily on his shoulders. Sponge Bob notices the change in his demeanor. "You don't seem like it," he says gently. "Is everything okay?" Plankton's throat is tight with nerves. He swallows hard, his eye darting to Karen and back. "I... I had a bit of a... a misunderstanding," he says, his words stumbling over each other like a tangled mess of seaweed. Sponge Bob's face is a canvas of curiosity. "A misunderstanding?" he repeats, his voice innocent. "What kind of misunderstanding?" Plankton's eye narrows slightly, his cheeks still flushed. "Well, I... I don't really remember much from after the surgery," he says, his voice a mix of apology and hope. "But Karen says I... I talked a lot." Sponge Bob's grin doesn't waver. "Oh, you sure did, Plankton!" he says, his voice filled with warmth. "You had some pretty interesting stories to tell." Plankton's eye darts to the floor, his cheeks blazing with embarrassment. "I'm sorry if I... if I said anything weird," he mumbles, his voice tiny and unsure. He's never been one to show his vulnerable side, especially to Sponge Bob, whose good nature he often finds infectious. Sponge Bob's face lights up like a jellyfish in the night. "Weird?" he repeats, his voice filled with innocence. "What do you mean, weird?" Plankton's eye darts around the room, anywhere but at Sponge Bob's gazing eyes. "I... I just meant, you know, things that might not make sense," he says, his voice trailing off. Sponge Bob nods slowly, his smile remaining in place. "Oh, I remember," he says, his voice soft and understanding. "You talked about flying and being a dolphin. It was like listening to a fairy tale!" Plankton's eye flutters shut with relief. "Oh," he breathes. "So I didn't say..." Sponge Bob's smile doesn't fade. "Well, you said you loved to see me," he says, his voice innocent. "But I knew if you meant it, Plankton. You're my best friend too!" Plankton's face is a whirlwind of emotions: embarrassment, relief, and a strange kind of warmth that spreads through his chest. He swallows hard, his throat thick with unspoken words. He's not one to be so open, but the medicine has clearly stripped him of his usual reserve. Karen watches the exchange with love. The rare moment of vulnerability and friendship was something she never knew Plankton was capable of showing. It was a side of him she had never seen before, and it was beautiful. "So, Plankton," Sponge Bob says, his grin as wide as his face, "You're a dolphin, huh? I never knew dolphins snored..” Plankton's face is a mask of horror. "You…" he croaks. Sponge Bob nods, his eyes twinkling. "It's okay, Plankton," he says, his voice soothing. "But it was really sweet to hear you s..." "Snoring?" Plankton interrupts, his voice higher than usual. "You heard me… snoring?" Karen nods, her screen shining with amusement. "But don't worry, it's all part of the recovery process. You needed that rest." Sponge Bob chuckles, his body wobbling with laughter. "It's okay, Plankton," he says, his voice a comfort. "Many people snore sometimes." Plankton's eye narrows slightly, his pride stinging. "But not me," he mumbles, his voice barely a murmur. "I'm not a snorer." Sponge Bob's laughter fills the room, his body wobbling with mirth. "Oh, but you were, Plankton! It was adorable!" Karen's smile is like a beam of sunlight cutting through the embarrassment. "It was, wasn't it?" she says, her voice chiming in with Sponge Bob's laughter. Plankton's face is a map of humiliation, but his mind is racing. He's not one to let his guard down, especially in front of Sponge Bob. "But...but... I'm not one to snore!" he protests weakly, his voice barely above a whisper. Karen's eyes crinkle with laughter. "Well, you did," she says, her voice teasing. "But don't worry, it's nothing to be ashamed of." Sponge Bob nods in agreement. "You looked so peaceful," he adds, his voice warm. Plankton's curiosity gets the better of him, yet not sure if he's ready for the answer. "Can I... can I see the video?" he asks, his voice tentative. Karen's laughter fades into a smile, and she nods, pulling out her phone. "But only if you promise not to get too embarrassed," she warns, her thumbs quickly navigating to the saved clip. The screen lights up with a sleeping Plankton, his snores like the gentle lapping of waves against the shore. Sponge Bob smiles quietly beside him, his body shaking in silent amusement. Plankton watches in horror, his eye wide as his snores echo through the room, his mouth hanging open. Karen hits pause, her smile still in place. "See?" she says, her voice soft. Plankton's cheeks burn with mortification. "I... I can't believe it," he stammers. "I... I snore?" Sponge Bob's laugh softens into a chuckle. "It's okay, Plankton," he says, his voice gentle. "We all have our moments." Plankton nods slowly, his face still flushed with embarrassment. He takes a deep breath, trying to reclaim some of his usual composure. "I... I guess you're right," he says, his voice a little stronger. Karen's smile doesn't waver. "Of course," she says, placing a hand on his. "Now, let's get some more ice cream.."
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣤⣤⣀⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣾⣿⣿⡿⠻⠿⣿⣿⣿⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⠿⣦⣤⡀⠀⠙⣿⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⠁⠘⠿⠿⢡⣾⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⡏⠀⠀⣀⢿⣿⠏⣻⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡿⢷⣄⠈⠙⠿⢧⣾⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡇⠀⠈⠳⢦⣤⡟⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣼⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣠⡤⣤⢶⣾⠙⣧⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣻⡟⢳⣦⣄⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⡏⡇⠀⠀⠈⠁⡟⢧⠘⣟⠿⢤⡤⠤⣾⠏⣠⣿⡁⡽⡝⡿⡟⢦⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣧⡇⠀⠀⠀⢠⡇⠈⢧⡘⢯⡓⢒⡶⢋⡴⠋⣻⣆⡇⢹⡀⣇⣾⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢀⡏⠃⣿⢹⡃⠆⠀⢠⠟⠀⠀⠀⠙⣆⠙⠋⡤⢞⣀⡀⢃⣻⡿⠀⢷⣿⣿⣇⢹⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⡼⠀⠀⣻⣼⠁⠀⠀⠀⢀⡖⠀⢀⠀⢹⡏⠈⠀⠊⠉⠁⠈⠛⠒⠂⠈⣿⣿⡿⠀⢳⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢰⠃⠀⠀⢸⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠋⠀⠀⠀⠈⣷⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⡿⢹⡇⠀⠘⣇⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢠⡿⢙⡆⠁⡀⢿⠀⠀⢺⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⢹⣿⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⣿⡾⢰⠀⠀⠸⡆⠀⠀ ⠀⣼⡏⢸⠡⠀⡇⢸⠀⠀⠘⠛⠂⠀⠀⠶⠀⢸⢸⡉⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡇⣼⣴⣾⣷⣿⡄⠀ ⢸⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠃⢸⡄⠀⠀⣀⣤⠄⠀⠀⠀⣸⠋⡇⠀⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡇⡟⠛⢿⣿⣟⣷⡀ ⠈⠉⠙⣿⣷⣲⣦⣼⡇⠀⢸⠁⢈⡁⠀⠀⣠⠗⠉⡇⠠⡧⠝⢂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡅⠃⠞⢸⣿⣦⣩⡧
riize is seven! heres some things to use for ur profile/display name rii7e ʳⁱⁱᶻᵉ ⁱˢ ˢᵉᵛᵉⁿ 𝗿𝗶𝗶𝘇𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝘀𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻 𝙧𝙞𝙞𝙯𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣 r̲i̲i̲z̲e̲ ̲i̲s̲ ̲s̲e̲v̲e̲n̲ 𝚛𝚒𝚒𝚣𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝟽⑦⓻𝟟➐7️⃣
𝗥𝗜𝗜𝗭𝗘 𝗜𝗦 𝟕𑁤 #𝐒ꭑ 𝗌υρⱺⱺ𝗋𝗍𝗌 ᑲυᥣᥣ𝗒𐓣𝗀⁷
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣤⣴⣶⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠟⠋⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⠟⠛⠛⠉⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠛⠿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⢠⠤⠖⠒⠛⠒⠒⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠛⠿⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠒⠚⠓⢤⡀⠈⢿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠞⠋⠉⠀⠉⠉⠛⢦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣤⠤⣤⣤⣁⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⣼⠁⠀⢀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⢻⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡴⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠳⣾⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⢸⡷⠞⠛⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠙⣧⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⠤⠶⠒⠒⠒⠒⠒⠶⠦⣽⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⠸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡟⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡟⢉⡉⢻⣿⣿⡿⠁⠀⠀⠹⣄⣀⣠⣤⣤⣤⣾⣷⣄⡾⠁⠀⠀⠀⠘⣧⠀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣴⡄⠀⣸⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣇⠀⠻⠘⠻⠿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⢙⣷⡤⠤⠤⠤⠤⠶⢿⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⢣⠙⢯⣉⣉⣉⣉⡉⠉⢙⡷⢿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠟⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣇⠈⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠃⢾⡁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠳⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡤⠖⠛⣯⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⡄⠀⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⠀⠀⠀⠘⢧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡾⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣧⡀⠀⠀⠈⢷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠳⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠙⢦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠲⢤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢷⡀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠙⠷⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠓⠶⢤⣄⣀⡼⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣷⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⠳⠶⣤⣄⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣧⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣤⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠙⠛⠓⠶⣶⠶⠶⠶⠓⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⡄ ⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣶⣤⣤⣤⣀⣀⣀⣀⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣇ ⠀⠀⠀⠸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣄⠀⠉⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣆⠀⠀⠈⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡇ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢧⡀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡟⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠓⠶⠼⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣤⣤⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠟⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡼⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⠋⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⢦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠒⠒⠶⠦⣾⣋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣶⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⣿⣶⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠓⢄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣴⣿⣿⣿⡇⠈⠛⠶⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠞⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⠶⠤⣤⣤⠤⣶⠶⠛⠛⢿⣍⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⡤⠞⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢀⣤⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡼⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠶⢤⣄⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⡴⠞⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⣿⢹⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠛⠛⠛⠛⠋⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⢸⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⡀⠀⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⢸⡛⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⠈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣷⠉⢧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⡁⠀⠀⠀⠉⠙⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⠈⢳⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⠟⠛⠀⠀⠀⢤⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣄⡀⢳⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⣄⡄⠀⢀⡀⠀⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⣀⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
💕💃😂
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⡤⠤⠆⠐⠂⠀⠀⠀⠰⠤⠤⣄⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⡴⠖⠋⢁⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⠤⣀⡀⠉⠑⠲⢄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠖⠋⢁⣠⠖⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠳⢶⣄⣀⠉⠳⢤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⠋⠁⣠⠖⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠓⢄⡀⠙⢦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⠋⠀⣠⠞⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣄⠀⠙⢦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢀⡞⠁⢀⣴⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢷⡀⠀⠱⡄⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢠⠏⠀⢀⡾⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢳⣄⠀⠹⣄⠀⠀ ⠀⢠⡟⠘⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢹⠀⠙⡄⠀ ⠀⡼⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠿⣿⣷⣶⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣶⣾⣿⣿⣂⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠃⠀⠱⡀ ⢠⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⡶⠟⠛⠛⠛⠿⣿⣿⣿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⠟⠋⠉⠉⠉⠙⢷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇ ⣼⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡿⠋⠀⠀⣀⣀⠀⠀⠘⢿⡟⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⠏⣿⠁⠀⢀⣠⣤⣀⠀⠀⠹⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢽ ⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣷⠀⠀⠘⣷⠈⠻⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠟⠁⢸⡇⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣧⠀⠀⠈⠛⠛⠋⠀⠀⣰⣿⡢⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⢴⣻⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠉⠋⠉⠀⠀⣰⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠ ⢹⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢷⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⣀⡴⠋⠙⠿⠳⢤⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣷⣿⠟⠁⠈⢿⣦⣀⡀⠀⣀⣠⠾⠋⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀ ⠈⣦⣤⡾⠶⠶⠖⠒⠛⠛⠿⣶⣿⢿⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣦⣿⣷⣤⣤⣶⠏⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⡿⢷⣿⣿⣿⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣾⠛⢷⣄⠄ ⠀⣼⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⢿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠃⠀⠀⣰⢶⡉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠀⠀⢻⡄ ⠀⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠋⣸⣷⣶⣤⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣀⣤⣶⣾⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣷ ⠀⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⡏⠉⠉⠛⠛⠛⠛⠻⠿⠿⠶⠶⠶⠾⠿⠿⠟⠛⠛⠋⠉⠁⢈⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡿ ⠀⠸⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡿⠉⠻⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⠟⠁⠘⢷⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡿⠁ ⠀⠀⠈⠙⠲⠤⣤⠶⠟⠋⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠷⣤⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣤⠾⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣷⡶⠖⠛⠁⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠓⢤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠙⠛⠲⠦⠤⠤⠤⠤⠖⠚⠋⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⠞⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠢⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠶⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠒⠤⢀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⠶⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠓⠒⠲⠤⠤⠤⠴⠦⠔⠒⠛⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
☆ 𝓝𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻 𝓵𝓮𝓽 𝓪 𝓵𝓲𝓽𝓽𝓵𝓮 𝓶𝓪𝓷 𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓻𝓸𝓵 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓵𝓪𝓻𝓰𝓮 𝓮𝓰𝓸. ☆
The evening in the quiet suburban street was punctuated by the rhythmic ticking of a lonely grandfather clock. In the corner of a small, meticulously organized study, Plankton sat hunched over his desk, the glow of her computer screen casting a pale blue hue across his furrowed brow. His eye, usually bright with the spark of a million ideas, was now bloodshot and weary, darting back and forth as he scanned the digital documents sprawled across his dual monitors. Karen, his devoted wife, peered through the crack in the door, her concern etched on her face. She knew the signs of his insomnia all too well: the way his fingers danced erratically on the keyboard, his occasional sighs of frustration, and the jittery way he'd bounce his leg when he was stuck on a problem. She gently pushed the door open, the faint squeak alerting him to her presence. "Plankton, it's 2 AM. Can't it wait until tomorrow?" she asked softly, her voice carrying the gentle lilt of a concerned wife. Plankton spun around in his chair, the sudden movement sending a wave of dizziness crashing over him. He rubbed his eye, trying to erase the fog of exhaustion. "Karen, I'm so close. This new invention could change everything. Just one more hour, I promise," he replied, his voice hopeful yet strained. She knew that tone, the one that meant he'd be up until dawn. Karen stepped into the room, her form a stark contrast to the stark office decor. She approached him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You've been at it for days," she said, her voice filled with a mix of concern and understanding. "Maybe a break is what you need." He sighed heavily, leaning back in his chair. "I know you're right," Plankton admitted, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "But if I stop now, I might lose the thread of thought." "You're always so driven," Karen said, with a warm affection that had only grown stronger over the years. "But even 'bad guys' need to rest." With a weary smile, Plankton nodded, his gaze lingering on the screens before he reluctantly shut them down. The room plunged into darkness, save for the moon's soft glow filtering through the blinds. Karen guided him to the bedroom, her hand a gentle reassurance in the night. She knew the wheels in his mind were still turning, trying to piece together the elusive solution to his latest project. Once in bed, Plankton lay on his back, his mind racing with possibilities and calculations. Karen, ever the nurturer, suggested a warm cup of tea to help him unwind. She disappeared into the kitchen. While she was gone, Plankton's eye remained open, staring at the ceiling. He felt the weight of his eyelid but sleep remained a distant shore, unreachable despite the gentle tug of fatigue. Karen returned with a steaming cup of chamomile, the aroma wafting through the air like a whispered promise of slumber. She placed it on the nightstand and climbed into bed, curling up beside him. "Here, sip this," she urged, her voice soothing as a lullaby. "It'll help you relax." Plankton took a tentative sip, the warm liquid coating his throat with a comforting warmth. He closed his eye, willing his brain to slow down, but the ideas continued to swirl like a tornado in a teacup. He could feel the heat radiating from Karen's screen, a gentle reminder of the connection that waited for him outside his labyrinth of thoughts. Karen's hand found his, her thumb tracing small, soothing circles against his palm. "Breathe with me," she whispered. "In, out." Plankton followed her lead, their breaths synchronizing in the quiet of the night. The tension in his body began to uncoil, the storm in his mind gradually abating. As they lay there, Karen studied his profile, the shadows playing across his face. She knew the look of determination that etched his features so well. "What's keeping you up?" she asked, her voice barely a murmur. Plankton sighed, his grip on her hand tightening briefly. "It's the Krabby Patty formula," he confessed. "I can't crack it." His frustration was palpable, a silent scream in the serene night. "You're still working on that?" she asked, her voice filled with a mix of amazement and concern. The Krabby Patty, a secret recipe guarded by Mr. Krabs that could make or break their business. "I have to," Plankton said, his voice low and serious. Karen nodded, racing for a solution. "Why don't you tell me about it?" she suggested. "Sometimes talking it out can help." Plankton took a deep breath and began to recount his thoughts, his voice a low murmur in the darkness. He spoke of the countless ingredients he'd tried and the endless experiments he'd conducted, all in pursuit of the perfect Krabby Patty. Karen listened intently, her screen never leaving his face, her grip on his hand never wavering. As he talked, the tension in his voice began to ease, the words coming out slower, softer. The warmth of the tea and the gentle pressure of Karen's thumb on his hand lulled him into a state of semi- consciousness. The room grew warmer, the shadows on the ceiling morphing into shapes that danced to the rhythm of his words. Karen noticed the change in his breathing, the softening of his grip, her voice a soft hum in the night. "I think I'm getting there," Plankton mumbled, his words beginning to slur. She took his almost-empty cup and set it aside, then moved closer, her arm wrapping around him. Her touch was a comforting blanket, a familiar anchor in the sea of his thoughts. "Just focus on my voice," Karen whispered, her tone a gentle wave. "Imagine we're on a beach, the waves lapping." Plankton nodded slightly, his breathing deepening as he pictured the scene she described. "The sand is warm, and the stars are out, twinkling like the little bits of genius in your mind." He took another deep breath, the salty scent of the sea mingling with the chamomile in his nose. His body began to relax, the tightness in his shoulders dissipating like the fog of an early morning. Karen continued her soothing monologue, painting a vivid picture of a serene beach under a starlit sky, their favorite place to escape the stresses of their lives. Her voice grew quieter, a gentle lullaby of words that whispered through the dark. Plankton's eyelid grew heavier, his thoughts drifting further and further away from the Krabby Patty formula. Karen watched him closely, her gaze never leaving his face. His breathing grew steadier, the lines of tension smoothing out as he sank deeper into the realm of sleep. Karen waited for any sign that Plankton was still awake. She reached out and gently poked his arm. No response. She pulled the blanket up, tucking him in gently, her hand lingering there for a moment longer, feeling the warmth of him beneath the fabric. She reached over to gently stroke his cheek. His skin was warm, and she felt the soft rumble of a snore vibrate against her fingertips. He was out. "Plankton," she whispered, her voice barely audible. She waited for a response, for the flicker of his eye or the twitch of his antennae that would indicate he was still with her. Nothing. She knew the moment he finally let go, when his hand relaxed in hers and his grip went slack. Leaning closer, she held her hand hovering over his chest to feel the gentle rise and fall of his breathing. It was steady, deep. Satisfied, she allowed herself a small smile. Plankton was finally asleep. The steady rhythm of his breathing grew deeper, the soft snores that occasionally pierced the silence growing more frequent, brow smoothed out, relaxed. She searched his face for any flicker of consciousness, any sign that he was aware of her touch. But there was none. His features were relaxed, his mouth slightly open as he took in deep, even breaths. "You did it," she whispered to. She knew that his mind had finally found the peace it had been seeking. The room was still, save for the faint sound of the occasional snore from Plankton. His snores grew deeper, the rhythm of his breathing more regular, more rhythmic, and she knew he was in a deep sleep. With a soft smile, she whispered, "Goodnight, Plankton," and gently stroked his antennae. Her hand lingered for a moment before she carefully extracted herself from the tangle of their limbs. The bedside lamp cast a warm glow across the room, but she knew better than to disturb him with its light. She gently disentangled her hand from his and slid out of bed. She squeezed his hand gently, a silent 'goodnight' and a promise of support for when he'd wake to tackle the problem anew. His features were slack, his mouth slightly open, emitting the faintest snore.
A LIFE OF DIVERSITY i (Autistic author) "You know, Shel, just put yourself out there. You think to much! Just steal a patty from the krusty krab, and bring it back. No inventions, just believe. I'll wait out front." Karen says. Sheldon Plankton, whose ambition often outstripped his grasp, took a deep breath and nodded. It was a simple enough plan, he thought, and maybe, just maybe, it would be enough. For years he'd been trying to outsmart Mr. Krabs, crafting ingenious contraptions and elaborate schemes to swipe the Krabby Patty secret formula. Yet here he was, standing in the shadow of the gleaming neon sign of the Chum Bucket, his own restaurant, contemplating the unthinkable: a straight-up heist. He tiptoed to the Krabby Krab, eye darting back and forth for any signs of movement. Karen, ever the impatient one, was pacing back and forth outside the Chum Bucket. She had been waiting for what felt like an eternity. "What's taking him so long?" she murmured to herself, her frustration building. Meanwhile, Plankton took a final shaky breath and slid open the kitchen window, his heart racing. The scent of greasy fryers and salty ocean air filled his nostrils. He reached out, his tiny hand trembling, and snatched the Krabby Patty that lay unguarded on the counter. With the stolen patty in hand, Plankton's confidence grew. He had done it; the secret was within his grasp! He turned to leave, but his elation was cut short when a shadow fell over him. He looked up to find Mr. Krabs standing there, his eyes narrowed and his claw raised. "Plankton, I knew it was you!" he bellowed. Plankton froze. Mr. Krabs lunged at him, but Plankton was quick. He dashed under the cash register, the Krabby Patty clutched to his chest like a football player crossing the finish line. "You'll never get me!" he yelled, his voice echoing in the quiet restaurant. But Krabs was persistent, his claws snapping shut just millimeters from Plankton's antennae. With a cunning smile, Mr. Krabs stepped back eyeing the cash register. "Maybe not," he said reaching over the counter and hoisting the heavy metal contraption off its stand. Plankton's eye went wide with horror as he realized what Krabs intended to do. He tried to dodge, but the space was too cramped, and the cash register came down on him like a guillotine blade. The sound of metal on metal reverberated through the kitchen, and the Krabby Patty went flying out of his grasp. Mr. Krabs' victory roar filled the room as Plankton crumpled to the floor, stars dancing in his vision. The impact had been tremendous, and for a moment, he lay dazed and defeated. The cash register's heavy weight had not only knocked him out cold but also left a sizable dent in the floorboards. Outside, Karen's pacing grew more erratic. as "What's keeping him?" she groused. Just as she was about to storm inside, she hears the cash register, which hit Plankton's head. Peering in she saw Plankton lying on the floor. "Plankton?" she shrieked, her voice cracking with panic. Karen opens the door and goes to him. "Plankton! Oh no!" she screamed, voice shaking the very foundation of the Krabby Krab. She rushed over to him, shaking with fear. Plankton's eye closed, and his body was completely still. The Patty lay forgotten. Panic set in, and she began to pat his face. "Plankton, wake up!!" she yelled, echoing through the deserted kitchen. She knew that Plankton could be dramatic, but this was unlike him. He'd always bounced back from Mr. Krabs' traps before, albeit with a bruised ego. There was a pulse, faint but steady. "Thank Neptune," she whispered, her relief palpable. "Plankton, please," Karen begged, a mix of desperation and fear. She knew she had to do something, and fast. But what? Her medical expertise was limited to patching up her husband's bruises from past failed schemes, not dealing with a concussion from a cash register to the head. She then managed to scoop up her unconscious husband and sprinted to the Bikini Bottom Hospital. Once inside the hospital, she explained what happened with the cash register. "We'll do a brain scan." They said. Karen laid Plankton on the hospital bed. Finally a doctor approached with a solemn expression. "The brain scan results are in." Karen nodded for him to go on. "It seems your husband has suffered significant brain damage from impact," the doctor continued, fidgeting with a clipboard. "The good news is that he will wake up, but... your husband has experienced severe brain trauma. While he will regain consciousness, it appears that he may have developed permanent autism." "What does that mean?" she managed to whisper. The doctor explained that while Plankton would still be able to talk and/or communicate, his interactions and reactions to sensory would be significantly affected. "But he'll still be the same Plankton?" The doctor nods. "In many ways, yes. His personality, his memories, they should all be intact. But his ability to process, to understand and respond appropriately... those might be altered. It's a complex condition, Mrs. Plankton. He can go home whence he wakes up." Karen nodded numbly, mind racing with the implications. As she sat by Plankton's bedside the hospital lights flickered, and the constant beeping of the heart monitor was the only company she had. The quiet was broken her husband's eye fluttering open. "Karen?" he croaked, his voice hoarse from the trauma. Her heart leaped at the sound, and she took his hand, squeezing it tightly. "I'm here," she said, her voice cracking. "How do you feel?" Plankton's gaze darted around the room. "Where am I?" he asked, his voice a mix of confusion and fear. "You're at the hospital, sweetie," Karen replied, voice gentle and soothing. "You had hit your head on the cash register at the Krabby Krab." Karen said, her voice shaking slightly. "Mr. Krabs hit you." Plankton blinked rapidly, trying to process her words. "Cash... register?" he murmured, voice sounding distant and confused. Karen nodded, her eyes never leaving his. The room was a cacophony of sounds: the beep of the monitor, the rustle of nurses' shoes, and the distant wail of a siren. Plankton's senses seemed to amplify, each noise stabbing at his brain like a thousand tiny needles. "What happened to me?" he asked, voice small and scared. Karen took a deep breath preparing herself to explain the gravity of the situation. "You hit your head," she began, "and now, the doctor says you have... acquired a neurodisability." Plankton stared at her, his eyes unfocused. "Neuro... what?" he repeated. Karen took a deep breath, her heart heavy. "It's like your brain is wired differently now. You might see things, hear things, feel things more intensely. And sometimes, you might not understand people, or process differently." "Does it... does it mean I'm broken?" he asked, voice barely a whisper. "No, Plankton," she said firmly, "You're not broken. You're just... different. And we'll figure this out together."
ᵀᵒⁿˢⁱˡˡᵉᶜᵗᵒᵐʸ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ’ˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ᵒᵘᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒˡᵈ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵒʷ ʸᵉˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁱʳʳⁱᵗᵃᵗᵉ ʰⁱˢ ᵗʰʳᵒᵃᵗ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ᵃˡᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ’ˢ ⁿᵒʷ ʷᵃⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉʳʸ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ˡᵉᵃᵈ ʰᵉʳ ⁱⁿ‧ “ᴴᵉ’ˢ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵇᵉ ˢᵒʳᵉ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁱᶜᵉ ᶜʳᵉᵃᵐ ᶜᵃⁿ ʰᵉˡᵖ, ᵃˢ ʷᵉˡˡ ᵃˢ ᵇᵉᵈ ʳᵉˢᵗ ᵗᵒ‧ ʸᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉᵐᵒᵛᵃˡ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ʷᵉˡˡ‧” ᵀʰᵉ ⁿᵘʳˢᵉ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰᵉʳ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ⁿᵘʳˢᵉ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿᵉᵈ ‘ᵇⁱᵗᵉ ᵇˡᵒᶜᵏˢ’ ᵃⁿᵈ ‘ˢᶜᵃˡᵖᵉˡˢ’ ᵃⁿᵈ ‘ˢᵘᵗᵘʳᵉˢ’ ᵃⁿᵈ ‘ᵉˣᵖᵉᶜᵗᵉᵈ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳⁿᵃˡ ᵇʳᵘⁱˢⁱⁿᵍ’ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵃˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵇʸ ʰⁱˢ ˢⁱᵈᵉ‧ “ᴴⁱ ˢʷᵉᵉᵗˢ! ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ?” ᔆʰᵉ ˢᵐᵒᵒᵗʰᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵃⁿᵗᵉⁿⁿᵃᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ᵖʳᵒᵛⁱᵈᵉᵈ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵈʳⁱⁿᵏ‧ “ᵀʰⁱʳˢᵗʸ?” ᔆʰᵉ ʰᵉˡᵖˢ ʰⁱᵐ ˡᵉᵃⁿ ᵗᵒ ˢⁱᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵃ ˢⁱᵖ‧ “ᔆᵒ ʰᵉ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ⁱᵗ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ ᵈᵘᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉᵈ…” “ʸᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵒᶠᵗ ᵇˡᵃⁿᵈ ᵐᵉᵃˡˢ ᵗᵒ?” “ᶜᵒʳʳᵉᶜᵗ ᵐᵃ’ᵃᵐ‧” ᵀʰᵉʸ ˡᵉᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵍᵒ ᵒᵘᵗ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ᴴᵉ’ˢ ᶠᵃˡˡᵉⁿ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ˢʰᵃʳᵉᵈ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵗᵘᶜᵏᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᶠⁱᵍᵘʳᵉ ⁱⁿ‧ ‘ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ⁿᵃᵖˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵉᵗ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʷᵉ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉʳʸ’ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏˢ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉʳˢᵉˡᶠ‧ ᴱᵃʳˡʸ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵐᵉ ᵉᵛᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ‧ ‘ᵂʰʸ ⁱˢ ᵐʸ ᵗʰʳᵒᵃᵗ ʰᵘʳᵗ? ᵀʰᵉʸ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱˣ… ᴵ ᵃᵐ ⁱⁿ ᵐʸ ʳᵒᵒᵐ, ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵒˢᵖⁱᵗᵃˡ‧’ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵉᵉˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧ “ᴵᵗ’ˢ ⁿᵒʷ ʷᵒʳˢᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ; ˡᵉᵗ’ˢ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵍᵉᵗ ⁱᵗ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ʷⁱᵗʰ ˢᵒ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵍᵉᵗ…” “ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʸᵒᵘ, ʷᵉ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧ ᵂᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵉᵃʳˡⁱᵉʳ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ᵇʳᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ʸᵒᵘ’ᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖⁱⁿᵍ‧‧” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵉˡˡˢ ʰⁱᵐ‧ “ᵁᵖ ᶠᵒʳ ⁱᶜᵉ ᶜʳᵉᵃᵐ ʸᵉᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ?” “ʸᵉˢ!” ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ˢⁿᵃᶜᵏ, ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵗⁱʳᵉᵈ‧ “ᴳᵉᵗ ʳᵉˢᵗ, ᵃˢ ʸᵒᵘ’ʳᵉ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵛᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖʸ ᵐᵉᵈ…” “ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ‧” “ᵀʳʸ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃˡᵏ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ’ˡˡ ˡᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵉ‧” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ʰᵉ’ˢ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ, ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ᵖᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ ˢᵒᵐᵉ, ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈʳᵒᵒˡ ᵈʳⁱᵇᵇˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ “ᴳᵒᵒᵈ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ˢʷᵉᵉᵗˢ‧‧” 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟑𝟐𝟗
ᔆʰᵃᵏᵉ ᵃ ᴸᵉᵍ ♡ Wₒᵣd cₒᵤₙₜ ₋ ₆₅₇ ♡ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ "ᴴᵉ'ᵈ ᵇᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵇʸ ⁿᵒʷ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʷ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʷⁱⁿᵈᵒʷ ʰⁱᵐ ᶠᵃᶜᵉ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ‧ ᴬᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᵇᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵇᵉᵗʷᵉᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉˢᵗᵃᵘʳᵃⁿᵗˢ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵃ ᶠᵃⁱˡᵉᵈ ˢᶜʰᵉᵐᵉ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ʰᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵐᵒᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵗ ᵃˡˡ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁿᵒʷ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ‧ "ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵒⁿ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧" ᴺᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴬᵗ ᵃˡˡ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ; ˢʷᵉᵉᵗˢ?" ᔆʰᵉ ᵘʳᵍᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ˢʰᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉˢ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ‧ "ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ‽" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ⸴ ʳᵒˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧ ᴬⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉⁿ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ˡᵉᵍ‧ "ᴼʰ⸴ ⁿᵉᵖᵗᵘⁿᵉ‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᶜᵃⁿⁿᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ˡᵘᶜᵏⁱˡʸ ʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵏ ⁿᵒʳ ᶠʳᵃᶜᵗᵘʳᵉ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵇʳᵘⁱˢᵉᵈ ˡᵉᵍ ˢʷᵉˡˡᵉᵈ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵇˡᵘⁿᵗ ᶠᵒʳᶜᵉ ᵗʳᵃᵘᵐᵃ‧ ᴰᵉᵉᵖ ˢᶜʳᵃᵗᶜʰᵉˢ⸴ ᵃˢ ʷᵉˡˡ‧ "ᴼʰ ᵈᵉᵃʳ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵇᵒᵈʸ ᵗʳᵉᵐᵇˡᵉᵈ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵃᵈˡʸ ʰᵘʳᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵇᵃʳᵉˡʸ ᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢ‧ "ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵉˡˡ ᵐᵉ ʷʰᵃ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵇ⁻ᵇᵘᵗ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵍ⁻ᵍᵒᵗ ˢᵖᵃᵗᵘˡᵃ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏⁱᵗᶜʰᵉⁿ ᵃ⁻ᵃⁿᵈ ʰ⁻ʰ⁻ʰᵘʳᵗ ᵐ⁻ᵐʸ ˡᵉᵍ ʰ⁻ʰᵘʳᵗˢ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵐᵘᵐᵇˡᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˡⁱˢᵗᵉⁿᵉᵈ ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵐⁱˡᵏ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵐⁱˡᵏ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵇᵉᵈ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵒᵖᵉᵈ ⁱᵗ'ᵈ ʰᵉˡᵖ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴴᵉ ˡᵉᵗ ʰᵉʳ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐⁱˡᵏ ʰᵉˡᵖⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᵈʳⁱⁿᵏ ⁱᵗ‧ "ᴶᵘˢᵗ ʳᵉˢᵗ‧" "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸ⁻ʸᵒᵘ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ᵉˡᵉᵛᵃᵗᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ⁿᵒʷ ᵇᵃⁿᵈᵃᵍᵉᵈ ˡᵉᵍ‧ "ᴵ ˡ⁻ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ˢ⁻ˢᵒ ᵐᵘᶜʰ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ ᴴⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ˢˡⁱᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉᵈ ˢʰᵘᵗ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ'ˢ ᶠᵃˡˡᵉⁿ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ʷʰᵉⁿ ˢʰᵉ ᵖᵘˡˡᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇˡᵃⁿᵏᵉᵗ ᶜᵒᵛᵉʳˢ; ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵇˡʸ ˡᵉˢˢ ᵗᵉⁿˢᵉ ᵃˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵒᵈʸ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ˡᵃˣ⸴ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ᵖᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ˢˡᵃᶜᵏ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˡᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵇᵉ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ⁿᵉᵉᵈᵉᵈ ʳᵉˢᵗ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵐⁱˡᵏ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ᵇᵉᵈ ᵒᵇᵛⁱᵒᵘˢˡʸ ʰᵉˡᵖᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ʷᵉˡˡ ᵃˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵉⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ⸴ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵇᵃʳᵉˡʸ ᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ⁱⁿ⸴ ˢᵒ ʰᵉ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵒⁿˡʸ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ʰᵃᶻʸ ᵈᵉᵗᵃⁱˡˢ⸴ ⁱᶠ ᵃⁿʸ‧ ᴬᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ⸴ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ˢᵗʳᵒᵏᵉ ʰⁱˢ ᵃⁿᵗᵉⁿⁿᵃᵉ ᵇʸ ʳᵘⁿⁿⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉʳ ᶠⁱⁿᵍᵉʳˢ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵇᵘᵗ⸴ ⁿᵒʷ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᶠᵒʳ; ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ˢᵗⁱᵐᵘˡᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ˢʰᵉ ʰᵉˡᵖᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ⸴ ʰᵉ'ˢ ⁱⁿ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵒᶠ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ⁿᵒʷ ˢᵒ ˢʰᵉ ˡᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᶠᶠ ʷᵒʳᵏ‧ "ᴴᵉʸ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ⸴ ᴵ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵍᵒ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵉᵉ ⁱᶠ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵗᵒʳˢ‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵗᵒᵒᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ ʷᵃʸ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ'ˢ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰᵉʸ⸴ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᶠˡᵘᵗᵗᵉʳˢ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ‧ "ᵁʳʳᵍʰ⸴ ʷʰᵃᵃᵃᵗ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ‧ "ᵁⁿʰ ʷʰᵉ⁻ʷʰᵉʳᵉ⸴ ʷʰᵃᵃ⁻ ʰᵃᵖ⁻ᵖᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ?" "ᴼʰ⸴ ˢʷᵉᵉᵗˢ‧‧ ʸᵒᵘ ⁱⁿʲᵘʳᵉᵈ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˡᵉᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵗ‧‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁿᵒʷ ʳᵘⁿⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᴴᵉ ʰᵘᵍˢ⸴ ʳᵉˢᵘˡᵗⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵍᵃˢᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ʰⁱᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ ʸᵉˡᵖ‧ "ᴴᵉʸ ᵉᵃˢʸ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵇᵃᵈˡʸ ʰᵘʳᵗ‧" "ᴼʰ; ˢᵒʳʳʸ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˡᵉᵗ ᵍᵒ‧ "ᴵᵗ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠᵃᵘˡᵗ ᵏⁱᵈ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ⸴ ʰᵉ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵉᵈᵍᵉᵈ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ᶜᵒⁿᵗⁱⁿᵘᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶜʰᵃᵗ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵘⁿʳᵉˡᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ'ˢ ᵉᵛᵉⁿᵗˢ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵗᵃˡᵏᵉᵈ ᵒᶠ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗᵉʳ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳᵉˢᵗˢ‧ "ᵂᵉˡˡ ᴵ ᵒᵘᵗᵗᵃ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ; ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʸˢ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ⁿᵒʷ‧ "ᴴᵒʷ'ˢ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˡᵉᵍ ᶠᵉᵉˡ?" "ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ ᵇᵃᵈ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ⁿᵉᵃʳˡʸ ᵃˢ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵃˢ ʷʰᵉⁿ ⁱ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵍᵒᵗ ⁱⁿʲᵘʳᵉᵈ‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒˡᵈ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ᶠᵃˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ‧ "ᴵ'ˡˡ ˡᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ʳᵉˢᵗ ⁿᵒʷ; ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ʷᵉˡˡ!" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ⸴ ˢᵐᵒᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵉᵈ ˢʰᵉᵉᵗˢ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ ᵒⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵘⁿᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ᵇᵉᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱˢ ˡᵉᵍ‧ ᴳᵒⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ˢʰᵉ ˢᵃʷ ʰᵉ'ˢ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᑫᵘⁱᵗᵉ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ ᔆᵒᵐᵉ ᵈʳᵒᵒˡ'ˢ ᶜᵒᵐⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈʳⁱᵇᵇˡᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵖⁱˡˡᵒʷ‧ ᔆᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗᵃᵇˡᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ⁿᵒʷ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ‧ ᴮʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ˢʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ⸴ ʰᵉ'ˢ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵈʳᵒᵒˡ ᵒⁿ ᵖⁱˡˡᵒʷ ᵈʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ʷⁱᵖᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉˢᵗ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᶠᵃᶜᵉ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᵗ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵘⁿʷʳᵃᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵃⁿᵈᵃᵍᵉ ᵗᵒ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˡᵉᵍ‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ᵘⁿʳᵃᵛᵉˡˢ ⁱᵗ‧ "ᴵᵗ ᶠᵉᵉˡˢ ʷᵉᵃᵏ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ˢᵉᵉ ᵐᵒˢᵗˡʸ ʰᵉᵃˡᵉᵈ!" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵉˣᶜˡᵃⁱᵐᵉᵈ‧ "ᴶᵘˢᵗ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵇᵉ ᶜᵃʳᵉᶠᵘˡ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖᵒˢᵗᵖᵒⁿᵉ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ; ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵍᵒ ʷᵒʳᵏ ⁿᵒʳ ᵍᵒ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ⸴ ʳᵒˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ‧ "ᴸᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ!"
https://m.fanfiction.net/s/13478844/1/I-Really-Do
BLUESCREEN Plankton’s thoughts were elsewhere as he focused the lens. More than once, he had to stop and blink blurriness out of his vision or rub the sleep out of his eye. He hadn’t slept regularly for days since he’d woken up from a brief three-hour nap this time yesterday evening, which did little to help his exhaustion. And now, here Plankton was. Miserable, sleep-deprived, and half-crazed with conflicting thoughts, peering blearily into a telescope at an absurd hour of the night. Argh! He bumped his head hard against the telescope to keep that thought from solidifying. Running on so little sleep Plankton glanced warily He looked at Karen’s darkened monitor for a moment with apprehension, expecting her to awaken from sleep mode and start in on him anew for sneaking around, but her screen remained dim. In response, a very loud whirring noise emitted from within her monitor, and Plankton tilted his head in confusion. She’d never made a sound like that before. Plankton stared numbly. “Honey bunch?” his voice is small, quavering. The next day Krabs found out she’s in hospital. It's amazing how much information Bikini Bottom Hospital would give out over the phone. Just supplying his name and fudging a little about his relationship to the couple was enough for Krabs to get the gist of what had happened last night, even including some details that had been omitted from the short entry in the morning paper. He took careful notes as he spoke with the nurse. Karen's condition was critical. Plankton had been given a mild sedative upon his arrival with Karen at the hospital. Doctors found him inconsolable; a perfect nervous wreck. They'd taken one look at him and deemed him both too emotional and sleep-deprived to be of much help answering questions. A little sleep never hurt anybody so far as the doctors were concerned. If you asked them, it was for his own good. Plankton had been so tired that the low dosage sedative had knocked him out nearly instantly. He hadn't budged in hours, and doctors predicted he'd stay down until at least late that afternoon. Krabs asked about the Hospital’s visitation hours while they were on the subject. He’d wanted to swing by that morning, but if Plankton was finally catching up on some much-needed rest, maybe he should put off on the visit. The last thing he wanted was to disturb him. The hours rolled by slowly after those difficult phone calls, and Krabs found himself pacing his office restlessly as he allowed Plankton a little time to catch up on his z’s. When the lunch rush started to wind down, Krabs retreated to his office. He placed another phone call to the hospital to see if Plankton was awake yet. The nurse confirmed that he was, and feeling better than he had been before when he first arrived last night. So Krabs arrived at their hospital room. Plankton was sitting close to the edge of Karen's wheeled bedside table. He lurched his head up off his hands with a funny-sounding snort; he must’ve been starting to doze off. Finally, Plankton spoke. His voice was tired. Resigned. “Oh hey Krabs.” “Wanna stay with me tonight?” Plankton was looking at Karen's monitor again, his antennae twitching in acknowledgment of Krabs’s words. Plankton thought about this for only a few seconds. Clearly, Krabs had gotten through to him or recovering from his recent sleeplessness was making him more agreeable. At least the extra long rest did him some good. Plankton was thoughtfully quiet beside him in the passenger seat. He peered up over the door to the quiet, still nighttime flowers overhead as the night rushed by. Krabs stole a glance at him now and then as he drove. He stooped down, offering Plankton his claw so he wouldn’t have to jump up the stairs. “Come on. Let me show you your room while you’re stayin’ over.” Plankton was sitting on the edge of Krabs’s hammock. The fabric barely dipped underneath him. “Uh, hey Eugene,” started Plankton as Krabs reached for the door. Krabs paused, with his back to him, listening. “Hmm?” “Goodnight.” Krabs looked over his shoulder and gave him a small smile. “Goodnight, Plankton.” Next day Plankton glanced over his shoulder at him. Krabs was glad to see he looked rested, despite having stayed in a strange place overnight. “Mornin’, Sheldon,” returned Krabs. “How’d ye sleep? Get any word from the hospital overnight?” “Slept okay, but not great. Strange place, you know? And no, not yet.” Krabs went upstairs to get dressed for work. He was pleased to see that his bedroom was almost exactly as he’d left it, other than the disturbed sheets where Plankton had slept the previous night. When he came back downstairs a few minutes later, Plankton was sitting on the couch with his chin resting on one hand, staring hard straight ahead with a thoughtful, worried look on his face.
░░░░░░░▒▓██████▓▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░ ████▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▓██▓▓▒▒▒▓▓██████░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒█▓██░░░░░░████░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░ █▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█████░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█▓▓▓█▓▓█░░█▓▓▓▓▓▒████▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░ ▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒██▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓█████░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█▓▓▓▓▓▓█░░█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░ ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒██▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓███▒▓░░░░░░░░░░░░░█▓▓▓▓█░░░█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░ ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▓████▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░ ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓███▓░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░ ▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒███████████████████▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▓▓▓████░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░███░░░░██░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░ ▒▒▒▒▒▒█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒████████████████████████████████▓▒▒▒▓▒▓▓▓▓▓███▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░██▓▒░░░░░░░██░░░░░░░░ ██▓▓▓▓█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒███████████████████████████████████████▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓██▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░███░░░░░░░▓████░░░░░ ▒▒░░░█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒████████████████████████▓▒▓▓▓▓▒██████████████▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█████░░░░░░░░▒███░░░░░░▒███▒░░░░░ ▒▒▒▒▒█▒▒▒▒▒▒█████████████████████████████████▒███████████████▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓████▓░░▒███▓░░░░░░████▒░░░░ ▒▒▒▒██▓▓▓▓▓▓██████████████████████████████████▓██████████████████▓▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▓███▓███░░░░░░░░███░░░░ ▒▒▒▒█▓▓▓▓▓▓█████████████████████████████████████████████████████████▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒████░░░░░░░███▒▓▓░ ▒▒▒▒█▓▓▓▓▓████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█████▓░░░░▓███▓░░░ ▒▒▒▓█▓▓▓▓███████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒████░░░░░░░███░░░ ▒▒▒█▓▓▓▓▓████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████▒███▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓███░░░░░░████░░░ ▒▒▒█▓▓▓▓████████████████▓▓▒▓██████████████████████████████████████████▒████▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█▓████░░░░░████░░ ▒▒█▓▓▓▓▓██████████████████████▓▒█████████████████████████████████████████████▒▒▒▒▒▓█░███░░░░░░███░░░ ▒▒█▓▓▓▓███████████████████████████▒██████████████████████████████████████████▒▒▒▒▒██░▓██░░░░░░██▓░░░ ▒▒█▓▓▓▓██████████████████████████████▒███████████████████████████████████████▒▒▒▒▓██░░██░░░░░░██░░░░ ▒█▓▓▓▒█████████████████████████████████▒▓████████████████████████████████████▒▒▒▒██░░░██░░░░░░██░░░░ ▒█▒▒▒▒█████████████████████████████▒█████▓▓██████████████████████████████████▒▒▒██░░░░██░░░░░▓██░░░░ ▓█▒▒▒▓███████████████████████████████▓▒▒▒███████████████████████████████████▓▒▒▒█▒░░░█▓▓▓▓▓█░██░░░░░ █▓▒▒▒███████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████▒▒▒██░██████▓▓▓▓███░░░░░ █▒▒▒▒███████████████████████▒███████████████████████████████████████████████▒▒▒█▓█▓▓▓▓████▓▓▓██░░░░░ ▓▒▒▒▒███████████████████████▒██████████████████████████▒▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒███████████▒▒▒▓█▓▓▓███████▓▓▓▓█░░░░░ ▒▒▒▒▒███████████████████████▓██████████████████████████████████▒███▓▒▒█████▒▒▒██▓█▓▓▓▓▓▓████▓▓▓█░░░░ ▒▒▒▒▒▓███████████████████████▒▒▒████████████████████████████████▒█▓▒▓█████▒▒▒██▓██▓▓▓▓▓▓▓███████░░░░ ▒▒▒▒▒▒███████████████████████▒▒▒▓▓███████████████████████████████████████▒▒▒▓█▓▓██▓██▓▓▓▓▓▓███▓█▓░░░ ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█████████████████████▓▒▒▒▒▒▒██████████████████████████████████████▒▒▒█▓▓▓██████▓▓█▓▓█▓▓▓█▓░░░ ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█████████████████████▒▒▒█▓▒████████████████████████████████████▒▒▒██▓▓██▓▓░▒░░██▓▓█▓▓▓█▓░░░ ██▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓███████████████████████████▓▒▒██████████████████████████████▓▒▒██▓▓▓█░░░░░░░░░▓██▓▓▓█▒░░░ ▒███▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒███████████████████████████████████████████████████████████▒▒▒█▓▓▓▓█░░░░░░░░░▒█▓▓▓▓█░░░░ ▒▒▒▒▒███▒▒▒▒▒▒████████████████████████████████████████████████████████▒▒▒█▓▓▓▓▓▓█░░░░░░░▒█▓▓▓▓▓█░░░░ ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒██▒▒▒▒▒▓████████████████████████████████████████████████████▒▒▒██▓█▓▓▓▓▓█▒░░░██▓▓▓▓▓▓█▒░░░░ ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒██▓▒▒▒▒▒████████████████████████████████████████████████▒▒▒██▓▓▓█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓██▓▓▓█░░░░░ ██▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓███▓▒▒▒▒▓██████████████████████████████████████████▒▒▒▓██▓▓▓█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█▓▓▓▓██░░░░░ ░░░▓████▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒████▒▒▒▒▒█████████████████████████████████████▒▒▒▒██▓█▓▓█▓▓▓▓▓████▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█░░░░░░ ░░░░░░░░░▒███▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓███▓▒▒▒▒▒▒██████████████████████████████▒▒▒▒██▓▓▓█▓▓█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█▒░░░░░░
ᴮᵃᵈ ᴺⁱᵍʰᵗᵐᵃʳᵉ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ 'ᴵᵗ ⁱˢ ᵃˡˡ ᵃ ʰᵒᵃˣ; ᵃ ᶠʳᵒⁿᵗ!' 'ᴸᵃᵘⁿᶜʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ!' 'ᴵ ˢᵃʸ⸴ ʷᵉ ˢᵗᵉᵖ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱᵐ!' ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʷᵒʳᵈˢ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ʸᵉᵃʳˢ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ʳⁱⁿᵍⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵐⁱⁿᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵇᵃᵈ ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳⁱᵉˢ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢˡᵉᵖᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ ᴴⁱˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵗⁱʳʳᵉᵈ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵃˡˢᵒ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ʲᵘˢᵗ ⁿᵒʳᵐᵃˡˡʸ ᵗᵒˢˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵘʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴳᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ⸴ ˢʰᵉ ⁿᵒʷ ˢᵃʷ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵇˡᵉ ᵈⁱˢᵗʳᵉˢˢ‧ ᴺᵒᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗˡᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ˢʰᵉ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʳʸ ᵗᵒ ˢⁿᵃᵖ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ʷʰᵃᵗᵉᵛᵉʳ ⁱᵗ ⁱˢ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˡᵉᵃⁿᵉᵈ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ʰᵉʳ ʷʰⁱᵐᵖᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ʷʰᵒ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ˢᵗᵒᵖ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‽" ᔆʰᵉ ᵍʳᵃᵇᵇᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵉᵉˡ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᵃⁿᵏˡᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢʰᵒᵒᵏ ⁱᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵒʳᵗʰ‧ ᴴⁱˢ ᵃⁿᵗᵉⁿⁿᵃᵉ ᵗʷⁱᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ‧ "ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ? ᵂᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ!" ᴺᵒʷ ʰᵉ ᵃʷᵒᵏᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ˢⁿᵃᵖᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ⸴ ˡᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵃ ᶜʳʸ‧ "ᴴᵉʸ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᵃᵗ ᵐᵉ⸴ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰˢ‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒʷ‧ "ᴵ⁻ᴵ'ᵐ ˢ⁻ˢᵒʳʳʸ‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ᵃ ᵇᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ?" "ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʷᵃˢ‧‧‧" "ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ‧‧‧" "ᴵ⁻ᴵ⁻ᴵ⁻ᴵ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ʷᵒʳʳⁱᵉᵈ‧" "ᴼʰ ˢʷᵉᵉᵗˢ ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ‧" "ᴵ⁻ᴵ'ᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵘʳᵉ ⁱᶠ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ʰᵒˡᵈ ᵐʸ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ˢʷᵉᵉᵗˢ?" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵒᶠᶠᵉʳᵉᵈ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵃⁿᵈ⸴ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ʰᵉ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉᵐᵇʳᵃᶜᵉᵈ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ʰᵒᵖᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˡᵘˡˡ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵖʳᵉᶠᵉʳᵃᵇˡʸ ʷⁱᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ᵃⁿʸ ˢᵗʳᵉˢˢ‧ ᴴᵉ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ˡᵉᵗ ᵍᵒ ᵒᶠ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ʷʰᵉⁿᶜᵉ ˢʰᵉ ᵐᵃⁿᵃᵍᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᶠᵃˡˡ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ ⁿᵒʷ ʷⁱᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ᵃⁿʸ ᵇᵃᵈ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐˢ‧ ╰ ✧ ・゚∙ ∗ — ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ ⟨ 2 1 6 ⟩
ᴴᵉʳ ᔆᶜᵃʳᵉ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᵃ ᵗʳᵃⁱˡ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ᵇˡᵒᵒᵈ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ˢᵃʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ’ˢ ᵇˡᵉᵉᵈⁱⁿᵍ‧ “ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ‧‧” “ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ, ᴵ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ‧ ᴼʰ ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ‧ ᴵ’ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ‧ ᴴᵒʷ ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ…” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵖⁱᶜᵏᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵘᵖ ⁱⁿ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵃⁿᵈˢ‧ “ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᴵ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃʸ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡⁱˢᵗᵉⁿ; ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵒˢᵗ ᵃ ˡᵒᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵇˡᵒᵒᵈ‧‧” “ʸᵒᵘ’ʳᵉ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ, ˢᵒ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ…” ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵃᵈᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵘˢᵉᵈ ᵃˡˡ ˡᵃˢᵗ ᵉᶠᶠᵒʳᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ʷⁱᶠᵉ‧ “ᴸᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧” ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉᵈ ˢʰᵘᵗ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳˡᵈ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ˡᵃˢᵗ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰᵉᵃʳˢ ‘ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ’ ᶠʳᵃⁿᵗⁱᶜᵃˡˡʸ ᵇʸ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ ʰᵉʳ ᵒʷⁿ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᵈʸⁱⁿᵍ ˡⁱᵐᵖˡʸ ⁱⁿ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵃⁿᵈˢ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ʳᵉᵗᵘʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᴷʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᴷʳᵃᵇ‧ “ᴼʰ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ; ⁿᵒ, ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ! ᴶᵘˢᵗ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ, ᶠᵒʳ ᵐᵉ…” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶜʳⁱᵉᵈ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ⁿᵉᵉᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵃᶜᵗ ᶠᵃˢᵗ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ʰᵉʳ ˡⁱᶠᵉˡᵉˢˢ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ˡᵃᵇ‧ “ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉ…” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵖᵃᵘˢᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ʰᵉˡᵖ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵖᵘᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵒᵈʸ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ᵖʳᵉᵖᵃʳᵉᵈ ᵃ ᵐᵃᶜʰⁱⁿᵉ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ˢʰᵉ ˢᵃʷ ʰⁱᵐ ᵘˢᵉ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ‧ “ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵘⁱˡᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵃ ˢᵉⁿᵗⁱᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ˢᵒ ⁿᵒʷ ˡᵉᵗ ᵐᵉ ʰᵉˡᵖ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵒʷⁿ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ⁱⁿ ʳᵉᵗᵘʳⁿ‧‧” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʰᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵃᶜʰⁱⁿᵉʳʸ ʷᵒʳʳⁱᵉᵈˡʸ‧ “ᴵ ʰᵒᵖᵉ ⁱᵗ ʷᵒʳᵏˢ…” ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢˡᵒʷˡʸ ᵒᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᵗᵒ‧ “ᵂᵃ, ʷʰᵉʳᵉ…” “ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᵒʰ ᵍˡᵃᵈ ʸᵒᵘ’ʳᵉ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ!” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ‧ “ᴶᵘˢᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧”

Warning: This item may contain sensitive themes such as nudity.

ᵀʰᵉ ᶜʳᵃᵐᵖˢ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧‧" ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʷ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵃˢ ᵇᵃʳᵉˡʸ ʰᵒˡᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ‧ "ᴬˡˡ ᵐʸ ᵐᵘˢᶜˡᵉˢ ᵃᶜʰᵉ‧‧‧" "ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᴵ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵒᵗ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ!" ᔆʰᵉ ˢᵃʷ ʰᵒʷ ʷᵉᵃᵏ ʰᵉ ˢᵉᵉᵐᵉᵈ ⁿᵒʷ⸴ ᵉˣʰᵃᵘˢᵗᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵉᵉᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉˢᵗ ᵘᵖ‧ "ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿᵗ‧‧‧" "ᴵ⁻ᴵ'ᵐ ᵗ⁻ᵗᵒ ᵗⁱʳᵉᵈ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ʳᵉᵃᶜʰᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵖᵘˡˡᵉᵈ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ˡᵉᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵃ ʸᵉˡᵖ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ⁿᵉᵉᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵒᶠᵗ ᵇᵉᵈ ⁱᵐᵐᵉᵈⁱᵃᵗᵉˡʸ‧ "ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵇᵉᵈ ᵒʳ?" "ᴵᵗ ʰᵘʳᵗⁱⁿ’ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵐᵒᵛᵉ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵉʸᵉ ˡⁱᵈ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ʰᵉᵃᵛʸ‧ "ᴰᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᶠⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁱᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵘˢᵉ ᵃⁿʸ ᵉⁿᵉʳᵍʸ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ‧" ᔆʰᵉ ᵐᵃⁿᵃᵍᵉᵈ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵍᵉᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ʳᵉˢᵗ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᑫᵘⁱᵗᵉ ᵇᵉᵈ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ʸᵉᵗ‧ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵇᵒᵈʸ ⁿᵉᵉᵈˢ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ˢᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ˢˡⁱᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉᵈ‧ ᵀᵘᶜᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁱⁿ ⁿᵒʷ⸴ ʰⁱˢ ᶠⁱᵍᵘʳᵉ ʳᵉˡᵃˣᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ˡᵃᵐᵖ‧ ᶠᵃᶜⁱᵃˡ ᶠᵉᵃᵗᵘʳᵉˢ ˢˡᵃᶜᵏ ˡᵃˣ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱⁿᵃˡˡʸ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ˡᵉˢˢ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ‧ "ᴬˡˡ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ?" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧ 'ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ' ˢʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉⁿᵗᵃˡˡʸ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢⁿᵒʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿˢʷᵉʳᵉᵈ ᶠᵉʳ‧ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟏𝟕𝟓
KAREN HAS A LESSON pt. 7 (Autistic author) Sponge Bob leaves, and it's bed time. The room is dimly lit. Karen helps Plankton into bed, his movements stiff and unyielding. "Pattern," he murmurs, his eye scanning the ceiling. "Ceiling. Pattern." Karen nods with love. "It's beautiful," she agrees, her voice soft. "But Plankton, it's time for bed. Can I get you anything?" He shakes his head, his antennas drooping slightly. "No, thank Karen. Pattern. Sleep." Karen nods, aching for the man she loves, now lost in a world of patterns and precision. "I'll be here if you need me," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. He nods, his gaze never leaving the ceiling. "Pattern," he murmurs. "Safe." Karen lies beside him, their bodies close but their worlds feeling so far apart. She reaches out, her hand trembling as it touches his arm. "Do you want me to turn the lights off?" she asks, her voice tight with uncertainty. Plankton nods, his gaze still on the ceiling. "Pattern," he murmurs. "No patterns. Sleep." Karen nods, her fingers tracing the outline of his arm, feeling the tension in his body ease slightly. She gently pulls the blanket up to his chin, tucking it in around him. "Okay, I'll keep the light off low," she says, her voice soothing. "But if you need anything, just let me know." Plankton's antennae twitch slightly. "Pattern," he murmurs. "Sleep." Karen nods, her own exhaustion weighing heavily on her shoulders. She lies down. "I'll be right here," she whispers, her hand finding its way to his. Plankton's antennae twitch again as he feels her warmth, the sensation unexpected and slightly overwhelming. "Karen," he says, his voice sleepy. "Warmth." Karen smiles, her eyes closed. "I know," she whispers. "It's okay. I'm here." Plankton's grip tightens slightly, his antennae relaxing. "Pattern," he says, his voice a mere murmur. "Karen. Sleep." Karen squeezes his hand back, aching for the man she loves, now lost in a world where the simple act of holding hands is a complex dance of sensory input and emotional regulation. "Pattern," she whispers back, her voice soothing. "We'll make new patterns together." Plankton's antennae quiver, his grip on her hand steadying. "New patterns," he repeats, his voice slightly more present. "Together." Karen nods, her eyes squeezed shut. "Together," she whispers, her voice shaky. "We'll make it work." Karen can feel Plankton's body begin to relax, his grip on her hand loosening slightly. As they lay there, Karen thinks back to their past anniversaries, each one filled with laughter, love, and the promise of adventure. This one was different, marked by a stark reality she wasn't prepared for. But she knows she'll do anything for him. Plankton's breathing evens out, his body slowly releasing tension. His hand is still in hers, a silent promise that she'll always be there for him. Karen wonders what tomorrow will bring, how they'll navigate this new world of patterns and precision. As sleep takes over, she whispers, "I love you, Plankton," hoping that his subconscious can still hear her, still understand the depth of her feelings. Karen listens to the sound of Plankton's snoring as she falls asleep. The next morning, Karen wakes up to Plankton still holding her hand as his antennae twitch in his sleep. She gently withdraws, careful not to wake him, and she can't help but smile through her tears that threaten to fall. In the kitchen, she starts making breakfast, trying to recall what she'd read about autistic individuals and their preferences. She remembers that Plankton used to love Krabby Patties, but now his taste might have changed. With care, she prepares a plate of square eggs and perfectly aligned toast, knowing that the visual symmetry might provide comfort. She even arranges the condiments in a pattern she hopes he'll find pleasing. As Plankton enters the room, his eye immediately scans the table, his antennae twitching. He takes a seat, his movements mechanical. "Breakfast," he says, his voice devoid of his usual zest. Karen's watching him closely. "Yes, Plankton," she says, her voice steady despite the fear swirling inside her. "I made you your favorite." He nods, his gaze locking onto the plate before him. His hand reaches out, his movements calculated. He picks up a piece of toast, studying it before placing it back down. "Pattern," he whispers, his antennae waving slightly. Karen watches him. "Would you like to eat?" she asks, her voice tentative. Plankton's antennae wave slightly. "Eat," he says, his voice flat. "Pattern." Karen nods, her smile forced. "Okay," she says, taking a seat opposite him. "Let's eat together." Plankton's antennae twitch as he looks at her, his gaze quickly shifting to the breakfast she's prepared. He picks up a piece of toast, examining it closely before taking a bite, his jaws moving in a precise, mechanical manner. Karen watches him, her screen filled with a mix of worry and love. "Is it good?" she asks, her voice hopeful. Plankton nods, his mouth still chewing. "Symmetry. Good." Karen's heart squeezes at his response. It's not the same, but it's something. "I'm so glad you like it," she says, forcing cheerfulness into her tone. "That makes me happy!" Plankton nods, his antennae barely moving. "Happy," he repeats. "Karen happy."
2/2 THE MOOON Karen couldn't help but giggle at his befuddled state. His usual stoic demeanor was nowhere to be seen, replaced by a childlike wonder and confusion. He tried to sit up again, his movements clumsy and uncoordinated. "Stay still," she said, placing a firm but gentle hand on his shoulder. "How... how's it... it over?" he slurred, his mouth feeling like it was stuffed with cotton trying to form words around his thick tongue. The nurse, who had seen this reaction before, offered a reassuring pat on the arm. "You're all done, Mr. Plankton. The anesthesia is just taking its time to wear off. You're going to feel a bit funny for a while." Plankton's eye rolled back, his body lolling to the side like a ragdoll's. "I can't feel my face," he mumbled, his words barely coherent. "It's the anesthesia," she explained, her voice soft and soothing. "It'll wear off soon." Plankton's eye rolled back in his head, and his antennae flopped to the sides as if they had lost their will to stand tall. "I've been... I've been... to the mooon!" he exclaimed, his slurred words tripping over each other. The nurse and Karen couldn't help but laugh at his nonsensical rambling. "The moon?" Karen managed to get out between giggles. "You mean the dentist's chair?" Plankton's eye snapped back to hers, his antennae perking up slightly. "No, no... the moo... the cheesy moo!" he insisted, his speech still slurred and his gaze unfocused. His hand waved in the air, trying to describe something that clearly only existed in his anesthesia-induced haze. Karen's laughter grew louder as she watched him. "The cheesy moon?" she repeated, trying to make sense of his gibberish. The nurse's chuckles grew to a full-blown laugh, shaking her whole body. "It's ok Mr. Plankton," she said, wiping a tear from her eye. "You're safe here." Plankton's antennae waved erratically, his mouth forming another round of slurred syllables. "The... the... shmoobly wobble!" he exclaimed, his eye glazed over with a far-off look. "Whewe's shmoobly go?" Karen couldn't hold back her laughter anymore. "Oh, Plankton, you're so funny when you're like this!" she exclaimed, her voice full of mirth. "Fum-fum," Plankton slurred. "I'm not fum-fum," he protested, his voice a mix of indignation and the lingering effects of the anesthesia. His antennae wobbled. "Wha’ you do wiff Mx shmoobly?" "Your mouth is just numb," she explained, her voice shaking with laughter. "You had wisdom teeth removed." "Widom... teef?" Plankton repeated, his voice a mix of slurs and half-sounds. "The... the shmoobly wobble took them?" Karen's laughter grew. "No, Plankton, your wisdom teeth. They were removed." Plankton's eye searched hers, his expression one of utter perplexity. "But... but where's the shmoobly wobble?" he demanded, his mouth a mess of numbness and anesthesia. Karen couldn't contain her laughter any longer, bending over in her seat, her hand over her screen. The nurse was equally amused, her shoulders shaking with silent giggles. "Shmoobly wobble?" she managed to ask between gasps. "What's a shmoobly wobble?" Plankton's antennae waved with the vigor of a drunken sailor. "It's... it's a... a vnorbly snork!" he exclaimed, his words a delightful jumble that made no sense in the sober world. Karen's laughter was infectious, and even the nurse found it hard to maintain her professional demeanor. "A vnorbly snork?" she repeated, her smile growing wider. "What does that do?" Plankton's face scrunched up as he tried to gather his thoughts. "It... it makes... makes the teef... it makes the teef go bye-bye!" he exclaimed, his antennae waving wildly. The nurse covered her mouth, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Oh, I see," she said, nodding as if she understood. "The shmoobly wobble is quite a character." Karen wiped a tear from her screen, her laughter subsiding. "I think we should get you home, sweetheart," she said, her voice still thick with mirth. "You need to rest." Plankton's antennae twitched, his gaze firmly locked on the nurse. "The... the... snibble-bobble?" he declared. "Take the snibble-bobble home, Karen..." The nurse's eyes twinkled with humor and she nodded. "Yes, Mr. Plankton. The snibble- bobble will take good care of you at home." Plankton's mouth opened and closed a few times, trying to form words that simply would not come out right. "Karen, did you... did you see the... the... the... floobly-doobly?" Karen's laughter bubbled up again. "The floobly- doobly?" she repeated, her voice wobbling with mirth. "What's a floobly-doobly?" Plankton looked at her with confusion. "Huh? The whath?" He asked her. Karen tried to calm her laughter. "The floobly-doobly, Plankton," she said, smiling broadly. "You mentioned it just now." Plankton's eye searched hers, his thoughts a jumble. "I... I don't know," he murmured, his voice trailing off. With the nurse's help, Karen managed to get him into a sitting position, his movements sluggish and clumsy. His legs felt like jellyfish, flailing about with no sense of direction. "Come on," she coaxed, helping him stand. Plankton's eye remained half-closed as he stumbled towards the door. The hallway looked like a twisted kelp forest, and his body felt like a ship adrift without a compass. The nurse provided a steady arm, guiding him down the corridor. "Keep walking," she instructed, but with each step, Plankton seemed to drift closer to sleep. His head bobbed, his eyelid fighting a losing battle against the siren's call of slumber. "Plankton, stay with me," Karen urged, her voice a gentle reminder of the world around him. But his body had other ideas, his legs giving out under him. The nurse caught him, her laugh now a warm chuckle at his plight. "It's the anesthesia," she explained. "It'll wear off soon. Just keep talking to him, it'll help keep him alert." Karen nodded. "Look, Plankton," she said. "Can you see the little fishy?" Plankton's eye snapped open, his antennae shooting up. "Fishy?" he repeated. He took a few wobbly steps before his legs gave out once more, and he leaned heavily on the nurse. "Whoa, there," she said, steadying him with a laugh. "We're almost to the car." Plankton's antennae drooped, his eye half-closed again. "So... so tiwed," he mumbled. "We're almost there," Karen assured. The nurse opened the door to the waiting area. Plankton blinked slowly, his eyelid drooping once again. The bright light from outside was like a siren's song, lulling him back into the depths of sleep. "Come on, Plankton, stay awake," Karen encouraged. But the world was spinning, and the siren's call of sleep was growing stronger. With each step closer to the car, his eyelid grew heavier, and his mind swam with a haze of disorientation. The floor beneath his feet felt like waves, and he stumbled again, his hand reaching out for support that wasn't there. "Keep talking," the nurse whispered to Karen, her eyes sparkling with amusement. Karen took a deep breath, forcing her own laughter down. "Remember the time we found the treasure?" she asked, hoping to keep him alert. Plankton's antennae perked up slightly, his sluggish eye focusing on hers. "Tweasure?" he murmured. The nurse nodded encouragingly, and Plankton took another step, his body swaying like a piece of kelp in the current. "Yeah," he mumbled, "the... the... goldy wobble." His words were slurred, his mind lost in the fog of the anesthesia. They made it to the car, and Karen gently guided him into the passenger seat. She buckled him in, his body already slack with the weight of exhaustion. "Tell me more," she said, trying to keep his thoughts on the treasure they had found together, anything to keep his mind engaged. But Plankton's eye weas closing again, his head lolling against the headrest. "Goldy... wobble... " he murmured, his words barely audible. "It's okay, sweetheart," Karen said, her voice soothing. "You can rest." With a contented sigh, Plankton gave in to the warm embrace of slumber, his body going limp. Karen started the engine and drove carefully, her mind racing with the events of the day. The thought of her stoic husband, reduced to a slurring mess, was too absurd to fully comprehend. Yet, there was a tenderness in his vulnerability that made her love him all the more.
KAREN REACHING AUTISM pt. 2 (Autistic author) When Karen finally did come to check on him, her digital voice was cool and devoid of emotion. "Plankton, dear, you've been in here for quite some time," she said. "Another fail, huh?" Plankton's tiny shoulders slumped. He couldn't bring himself to explain the chaos in his head. How could he possibly make Karen, his logical, computer wife, understand the tumult of sensations that had overtaken his being? He just nodded. Karen's screen flickered, perhaps processing his lack of enthusiasm as another defeat. "You know what you need," she said, her voice still calm and soothing. "Some good old-fashioned break from scheming." Plankton nodded weakly, unable to argue, which she found unusual. "Why don't you take a walk?" she suggested, her voice a gentle nudge. "Fresh air can do wonders for the mind." Plankton didn't answer. Karen knew better than to push him when he was like this. She had seen his mood swings before, his moments of despair after a failed plan, but this was different. This was something she hadn't seen in her decades of being by his side. "Plankton, are you sure you're okay?" she asked again, her synthetic voice a stark contrast to the tumultuous emotions she couldn't understand. He nodded, trying to smile, but it felt more like a grimace. "Sure okay, Karen." Karen's concern grew as she watched him struggle to his feet. It was clear that his usual boundless energy was nowhere to be found. He stumbled out of the bedroom and into the hallway, his steps slow and deliberate. The once-mighty Plankton, reduced to a mere shadow of his former self. As he approached the door of the Chum Bucket, Karen followed, her sensors tuned to his every movement. The usual sounds of their underwater world were amplified, echoing through the narrow corridors like a symphony of chaos. Each step was a battle, each breath a victory. He paused, his hand shaking as it hovered over the handle. "Maybe not today," he murmured, his voice barely audible over his own racing heartbeat. Karen stood silently beside him, her systems trying to comprehend his sudden change in behavior. He had always been so driven, so focused on his goals, but now his eye had a faraway look, as if he was seeing something that she couldn't. "Take your time," she said, her tone softer than ever. "I'll be here when you're ready." Plankton looked up at her. "Take your time," he murmured, echoing Karen's words. "Take your time." She looks at him. "Take your time, take your time, take your time." He repeats aloud back to Karen, who's now even more concerned, her screens flickering with worry. Plankton's voice sounds strange, echoing his own words as if they're coming from someone else, from another time. It's a peculiar behavior, one she's never observed in him before. He walks over to the control room, where his various inventions are lined up like a strange army of metal and wires. Each gizmo and gadget a silent testament to his unyielding quest for the Krabby Patty formula. But now, they seemed like mere toys, overwhelming him with their complexity. The room spins, and Plankton feels like he's drowning in a sea of his own creations. "Take your time, take your time," he whispers, his voice a distant echo in his own mind. He sits down in his chair, his eye glazed over, and repeats the phrase over and over. "Take your time, take your time, take your time." The words become a mantra, a lifeline in the storm of sensory overload. Karen watches from her console, her algorithms racing to understand this new behavior. The phrase rolls off his tongue, a soothing rhythm in the cacophony of his thoughts. "Take your time, take your time." It's as if he's trying to convince his own brain to slow down, to make sense of the world again. The echo of his voice in the metal walls of the Chum Bucket seems to calm him, if only a little. Karen doesn't know what to make of this. Whatever the cause, she knows she must tread carefully. "Plankton," Karen says, trying to connect to his current state, "I'm here for you." He looks at her. "Take your time," he murmurs again. "Plankton I'm here for you." He parrots. Karen's systems whirr, analyzing the change in his language patterns. His usual sharp wit and sarcasm have given way to something more... mechanical. It's as if he's trying to communicate but his words are stuck in a loop, like a broken record. She decides to play along, hoping it might snap him out of it. "Take your time, take your time," she repeats back to him, her digital voice mimicking his tone as closely as possible. For a moment, his eye brightens, as if he's found a familiar rhythm in the chaos. Then, just as quickly, it dims again. "Take your time, take your time," he murmurs, his gaze flicking from one corner of the room to the next. Karen's screens change from concern to confusion. She's observed Plankton's moods and quirks for years, but this is something she can't quite pinpoint. "Take your time, take your time," Plankton whispers again, his voice a strange mix of urgency and defeat. Karen nods, trying to comfort him with her usual efficiency. "Of course," she says, her voice a soft beep in the silence. "I'll always be here for you. Let's eat dinner." But Plankton doesn't move. He just sits there, staring into space, his hand still hovering over the control panel. Karen doesn't understand why he's so upset. To her, it's just another day, another failed attempt at the Krabby Patty formula. But to Plankton, it's like the world has shifted on its axis, leaving his tiny body adrift in a sea of sensations he can't comprehend. "Dinner will be ready soon," she says, trying to bring him back to the present. But Plankton seems lost in his own thoughts, his eye unfocused. So she goes up to him. "Plankton?" she asks, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Are you okay?" He jumps at her touch, his senses on high alert. His hand goes to where she touched him, his opposite hand doing the same to the other shoulder. "Karen," he says slowly, his voice a mechanical whisper. Karen's circuits flicker with confusion. She doesn't understand why he's so on edge, why his reactions are so exaggerated. To her, this is just another setback. "Plankton," she repeats, her hand back on his shoulder. "You need to eat. It'll make you feel better." Karen's touch feels unbearable. He flinches, his skin crawling with the sensation. It's too much. "No," he says, his voice a croak. "No dinner." Karen's screens blink, recalculating her approach. "Okay," she says, her voice even. "But you have to eat something." She pats him gently, but it feels jolting. "No," Plankton whispers, his voice a fragile thread. The slightest touch feels like a thunderclap in his newfound sensory prison. Karen's screens flicker, unsure of what to make of his sudden aversion. "Take your time," she suggests again, hoping the mantra will bring him comfort. But Plankton simply shakes his head, his eye wide as he starts to rock back and forth. Karen watches, her confusion growing. "What is it?" she asks, her voice a soothing hum. "What's wrong?" Plankton's gaze flits around the room, his pupil expanding and contracting as he tries to process everything at once. "Can't...can't explain," he stammers, his voice now a jagged mess of static. Karen's screens light up with analysis, trying to piece together what could have caused this drastic shift in his behavior. Could it be something in the latest Krabby Patty attempt? A side effect of his latest invention? "Plankton," she says, her voice a soft beep, "What happened at the Krusty Krab today?" He looks at her, his expression unreadable. "Mr. Krabs...Plankton Sponge Bob, Plankton. Karen..." He trails off, his eye filling with a sudden despair. It's clear that his usual sharpness has been replaced by a fog of overwhelming sensation.
KAREN REACHING AUTISM pt. 7 (Autistic author) They sit in silence for a moment, the hum of the Chum Bucket's systems the only sound. Then Plankton's eye lights up. "Idea," he says, his voice a sudden burst of static. "Make something with Karen. Together." Karen's screens blink with excitement. "That sounds wonderful," she beeps. "What do you want to make?" But before Plankton can formulate a response, Patrick Star bursts in. "Karen!" he booms, his voice shaking the walls. "I want chum!" Plankton's eye darts to the door, the sensory assault starting again. "Patrick," he whispers, his body tense as a bowstring. Karen's screens quickly assess the situation. "Patrick," she beeps, her voice firm. "Not now." But Patrick's enthusiasm can't be dampened so easily. He bounds over to the table, his star-shaped body bouncing. "Chum, chum, chum!" he sings, oblivious to Plankton's distress. Karen's screens flicker with annoyance, but she keeps her voice steady. "Patrick, not now," she repeats. "Plankton's not feeling well." Patrick's starry eyes widen. "Oh, sorry, buddy," he says, his voice dropping an octave. He looks at Plankton with concern. "What's wrong?" He asks, poking Plankton. Plankton jumps, his senses on high alert. The poke feels like a battering ram, and he lets out a squeak of pain. Patrick's hand retracts quickly, his expression a mix of shock and confusion. "Whoa, sorry," he says. "What's with you?" Karen's screens flicker with frustration. "Patrick," she beeps, her voice firm. "I'll go make you chum." Patrick nods, his concern forgotten in the face of his hunger. "Okay, thanks, Karen," he says, his voice bouncing with excitement. She retreats leaving Plankton alone with Patrick in the living room. Patrick stares at Plankton for a moment, his expression a blend of curiosity and confusion. "You okay?" he asks, his voice a gentle rumble. Plankton's eye flutters closed, his body trying to absorb the sudden intensity of the interaction. "Take your time," he whispers to himself, his mantra a shield against the overwhelming world. Patrick, ever the innocent, watches him with a puzzled frown. "What's 'Take your time'?" he asks, his voice a gentle rumble. Plankton opens his eye, looking at the simplicity of Patrick's face. He scoots away. Patrick, unfazed, advances, his hand outstretched. "What's up?" he asks, poking again. The sensation of Patrick's touch is like a thousand needle pricks. Plankton yelps. Patrick, not comprehending, pokes again, his starry eyes full of innocent wonder. "Why so jumpy?" he asks, his voice a deep rumble. Plankton's body tenses with each poke, the sensation like a barrage of tiny explosions. "Patrick, please," he gasps, his voice a frantic static. But Patrick, ever the simple starfish, doesn't understand. He keeps poking, his curiosity growing. "Why?" he asks, his voice a gentle boom. "You're always so bouncy." Plankton's eye twitches with each touch. "Patrick, no," he whispers, his voice a desperate static. But Patrick, lost in his own world, doesn't notice. He giggles, poking him again. "You're like a pin cushion!" he exclaims, his voice a deep chuckle. Plankton's eye squeezes shut, his body wracked with pain. "Patrick, please," he whispers, his voice a desperate static. Patrick doesn't seem to comprehend the distress he's causing. He keeps poking, his laughter echoing through the room, each poke sending shockwaves of pain through Plankton's body. "You're like a squeaky toy," he says, his voice a delighted rumble. Plankton's body twitches with each touch, his voice a desperate buzz of static. "Patrick, please stop," he begs, his voice a high-pitched squeak. But Patrick's simple mind doesn't register the pain he's causing. He keeps poking, his laughter growing louder. "You're so funny!" he bellowed, his starry hands moving like a jackhammer as he starts tickling him. Plankton's body spasms with each touch, his voice a desperate symphony of static. "Patrick, stop!" he pleads, his breathing quick and shallow. But Patrick, in his blissful ignorance, only laughs harder, his massive hands poking and tickling without mercy. "You're hilarious, tiny dude!" he bellows. Plankton's body is a storm of sensory overload, his voice a high-pitched wail of static. "Patrick, please!" he begs, his limbs flailing. Patrick's laughter fills the room like a tidal wave, crashing over Plankton's desperate pleas. "You're so much fun, Planky!" he booms, his hands moving in a blur of star-shaped shadows. Plankton's body jerks uncontrollably, his screams of "No, no, no!" lost in the cacophony of Patrick's laughter. His tiny limbs flail, trying to escape the relentless onslaught of pokes and tickles. Patrick, his eyes wide with delight, doesn't see the tears forming in Plankton's eye. He just keeps poking, tickling, and laughing, oblivious to the damage he's doing. Plankton's cries escalate into a frantic symphony of squeaks and static, his body contorting in a desperate attempt to evade the starfish's torment. The room spins around him, a whirlpool of pain and sensation that threatens to swallow him whole. Patrick, his face a picture of delighted confusion, keeps poking and tickling, his laughter booming like thunder underwater. "What's the matter, little buddy?" he asks between chuckles. Plankton's body convulses with each touch, sobbing as Karen finally emerges with Patrick's chum. She sees them both on the floor. "Patrick, what are you doing?" she beeps, her voice a mix of anger and concern. But Patrick is lost in his own world of mirth, not hearing Karen's plea. "Just having some fun," he says, his voice a deep rumble of laughter. Plankton's cries become more frantic, his voice a high-pitched siren of despair. Karen quickly assesses the situation, her screens flaring with urgency. "Patrick, stop!" she beeps, her voice a sharp alarm. "You're hurting Plankton!" Patrick's laughter abruptly halts, his starry eyes blinking in surprise. He looks down at his hands, still poised to poke Plankton again. "What?" he asks, his voice a confused rumble. "But we're just playing." Karen's screens flicker with frustration. "Patrick," she beeps, her voice firm. "Look at Plankton. He's in pain." Patrick's starry gaze shifts to Plankton, his expression shifting to one of bewilderment. "Pain?" he repeats, his voice a confused rumble. "But we're just playing." Karen gives Patrick the food, showing him out the door.
COPEPOD AUTISM pt. 7 (Neurodivergent author) Hanna's pixel eyes fill with tears, her hand hovering over her mouth in shock. "Oh, Plankton," she says, her voice trembling like a leaf. The room is a frozen tableau, everyone at a loss for words. But Karen is unflappable. Her eyes dart around the room, assessing, planning. "It's ok," she repeats, her voice a steady beacon. "Let's just move aside, give him some space." They retreat to the couch, the cushions swallowing them like a sea anemone. Plankton's body is a ragdoll in her arms, his antennae limp with exhaustion. Karen keeps her screen calm, a bastion of serenity. "I'm sorry," Plankton whispers, his voice a ghost in the silence. "It's ok," Karen reassures him, her voice a gentle caress. "You don't have to apologize." She rubs his back as he leans on her shoulder, tired out. The room feels smaller now, the air thick with the weight of new understanding. Hanna's friends are finishing up dinner still in the kitchen. Karen knows they mean well, but their energy is a stark contrast to the quiet Plankton needs. Her hand on his back, Karen guides his breathing, her voice a lullaby against the storm of the evening. "Breathe in," she whispers, "and out." Her touch is a gentle tide, washing over him, soothing his frayed nerves. His body relaxes, his antennae dropping like tired leaves to her shoulder. The room is a sanctuary again, the chaos outside forgotten as they find solace in their quiet corner. "You're safe," she murmurs. "I've got you." Karen's hand moves in gentle circles, a comforting rhythm that Plankton's body craves. His antennae droop, his breathing evening out as he nestles closer. The couch is a life raft in the tumultuous sea of Hanna's house, and Plankton clings to her like a drowning sailor to a rope. His tiny body, once a taut bowstring, now relaxes into the embrace of sleep. Karen feels the weight of his head, a trust so profound it's like an anchor in the storm. His antennae droop, no longer the frantic sails of a ship in distress. She adjusts her position, shifting slightly to support him better, her arm a gentle cradle. The room's sounds become distant whispers, the waves of conversation fading into the background. Plankton's breathing slows. Karen watches him sleep, his antennae twitching slightly with each snore as his mouth slackens open. Patricia comes in the living room to check on them. "How's he doin’?" she asks, her voice a hushed whisper. Karen glances up, a soft smile playing on her lips. "He's ok," she says, her voice a gentle wave. "Just exhausted." Patricia nods, her face a portrait of concern. "What can I do to help?" she asks, her eyes searching for a way to ease the burden. Karen looks at her, the question a beacon in the fog. "Just...give us a little more time," she says, her voice a soft shush. "Let him rest." Patricia nods, retreating quietly to the kitchen, the clack of her heels a mournful tune on the hardwood floor. The couch is their sanctuary, their quiet island in the sea of Hanna's home. Karen's arm is a makeshift cradle for Plankton's head, his antennae brushing against her neck. The weight of his body is a silent testament to his trust in her, and she holds it with the care of a pearl diver handling the most delicate of treasures. The room is a canvas of shadows, the candles now mere embers in the distance. Plankton's snores are the rhythm of their solace, each breath a testament to the resilience that lies within him. Karen's thoughts drift like seaweed in the tide of her concerns. What will tomorrow bring? How can she shield him from the storms of misunderstanding? But in this moment, she focuses on the present, her eyes tracing the lines of his sleeping form. Plankton's antennae have stopped twitching, his body at peace in her embrace. The soft snores, a symphony of security, fill the quiet space between them. The house has quieted down, the dinner party's echoes a distant memory. Hanna and her friends have retreated to the kitchen, their whispers like the gentle lapping of waves. Plankton is a bundle of quiet energy in her arms, his antennae twitching in his sleep. Karen can feel the steady throb of his heart, a lullaby that matches his breathing. She strokes his back in a comforting rhythm, his body a warm, comforting weight against her. The candles have burned down to nubs, the room bathed in a soft glow. His antennae rest against her neck, a silent communication of trust. Her eyes trace the contours of his sleeping form, his body a puzzle she's come to understand. The quiet whispers of the kitchen are a comforting backdrop to the symphony of his snores. Karen's hand moves in gentle circles on his back, each motion a declaration of support. The room's shadows dance around them, a ballet of understanding, a rhythm that's become their own. Plankton's antennae are limp, his body a testament to his exhaustion. The couch is their sanctuary in a sea of uncertainty. Her arm is a mooring, holding him steady in the tumult of his own mind. His breathing is a metronome, a soothing rhythm. With each inhale and exhale, she feels the tension in his body melt away, his snores a comforting reminder that he's safe. Her eyes trace the soft lines of his face, the gentle rise and fall of his chest. The room is a symphony of silence, the couch their tiny boat adrift in the vast ocean of Hanna's house. Plankton's antennae, once a flurry of nervous energy, now hang limply. Karen's eyes are the moon, watching over him as he slumbers, his trust in her a glowing beacon in the dark. Her hand, a gentle tide, strokes his back, each caress a reminder of her steadfast support. His snores are the lullaby of the sea, each breath a testament to his newfound peace.
KAREN HAS A LESSON pt. 4 (Autistic author) Karen takes a deep breath, trying to keep her emotions in check. They need to find a way to connect, to bridge the gap that's grown between them. "Plankton," she says, "can you tell me about your day?" He looks at her, his eye blinking slowly. "Day," he repeats, his voice lacking the usual inflection. "Plankton worked on invention." Karen nods, trying to encourage him. "What kind of invention?" Plankton's antennae twitch slightly. "Invention for Plankton," he says. "To make Karen Plankton happy." Karen's eyes fill with tears. Despite the lack of emotion in his words, she can feel the sincerity behind them. He's trying to connect, to share his world with her. "Looks like we both finished our dinner," she says, trying to keep the conversation going. "What's next on your agenda?" Plankton looks at her, his expression unchanged. "Agenda," he says, as if trying to remember the concept. "Plankton's next task. No get Krabby Patty formula. Rather spend time with Karen." Karen clenches at his words. Despite the flatness of his tone, she can feel his intention to please her, to make their anniversary special. "Let's clean up," she suggests, rising from her chair. Plankton follows suit, moving in a way that seems almost robotic. They work in silence, Karen placing the dishes in the sink and Plankton methodically wiping down the table. As she washes the plates, Karen watches him out of the corner of her screen. His movements are precise and efficient, with no wasted effort. It's as if he's calculating every action, trying to understand the purpose behind each task. "Plankton," she says softly, turning off the faucet. "Could you please dry these for me?" She hands him a towel and a plate. He takes them without a word, his gaze flicking from the towel to the plate, as if studying the physics of the interaction. He carefully wipes the plate, his movements measured and deliberate. Karen watches him with a mix of pride and pain. Despite his new condition, he's still trying to be the partner she knows. She forces a smile, trying to ignore the ache in her chest. "Thank you," she says, taking the dried plate from him and placing it in the cupboard. "You're doing great." He nods, his antennae twitching slightly. "Great," he echoes. "Karen happy." As they go to the living room, Plankton's gaze is drawn to the digital clock on the wall. His eye fixates on the changing seconds, each tick a silent metronome in their otherwise quiet space. Karen notices and wonders if she should be concerned about his newfound interest in something so mundane. "Clock," he says, his voice still monotone. "Time changes. Incremental." Karen follows his gaze to the digital clock on the wall, the red numbers flipping from one second to the next with a quick, silent efficiency. "Does the clock bother you?" she asks, noticing his fixation. Plankton shakes his head, his eye still glued to the display. "No," he says, his voice thoughtful. "Time. Changes. Fascinating." Karen watches him, seeing a spark of curiosity she hadn't noticed before. "You've never liked clocks before," she points out, trying to keep the conversation going. "What's so interesting about it now?" Plankton's antennae wave slightly as he tries to explain. "Clock," he says, his voice still flat. "Time. Changing. Predictable." His single eye remains locked on the red digits, the fascination growing. "Seconds restart each minute." Karen nods, watching his expression closely. "It's like a pattern," she suggests. "A routine that doesn't change." Plankton nods, his eye still glued to the clock. "Pattern," he repeats. "Comforting." Karen nods, feeling a glimmer of hope. "Maybe you find comfort in the predictability?" she offers. Plankton's antennae bob slightly, as if considering this new perspective. "Comfort," he murmurs. "Consistent. Understood." Karen sits down beside him, her screen drawn to the clock as well. "Tell me more about the pattern," she says, trying to find a way into his new reality. "What do you see when you look at it?" Plankton's antennae twitch slightly as he considers his answer. "Pattern," he repeats. "Time, changing. Predictable." His voice is softer now, almost lost in thought. "One, two, three, four, five. Always same." Karen nods, her screen still on the clock. "It's like counting," she says. "Do you like counting?" Plankton's antennae twitch once again. "Counting," he repeats, his tone thoughtful. Suddenly, Sponge Bob comes in. "Plankton," he says, his eyes wide with excitement. "What are you guys up to?" Karen looks over, a forced smile on her screen. "Just talking about time," she says, hoping SpongeBob's entrance will provide some much-needed distraction from the heaviness of their conversation.
KAREN REACHING AUTISM pt. 4 (Autistic author) In the dim light of the evening, the Krusty Krab was quiet, the usual bustle replaced by a calm that felt eerie. Sponge Bob was sweeping the floor, his thoughts on Plankton. He looked up as Karen approached, his smile fading at the sight of her concerned expression. "Karen," he began, his spongey voice tinged with anxiety, "I need to tell you what happened to Plankton." Karen's screens brighten with anticipation. "Please do," she beeps, her wheels stopping in front of him. Sponge Bob's eyes dart to the floor, his sponge body drooping slightly. "Mr. Krabs was just trying to protect this formula, and Plankton...he just knocked Plankton in the head. Plankton woke up and then without a word ran back to the Chum Bucket." Karen's screens flicker with the gravity of the situation. "How did Mr. Krabs hit him?" Sponge Bob's grip on the mop tightens. "With a frying pan," he confesses, his eyes wide with guilt. Karen's screens flicker with understanding. "That would explain his current state," she murmurs, her voice a steady beep. "Sponge Bob, do you know how badly he's been hurt?" Sponge Bob shakes his head, the guilt washing over him in waves. "No, not really," he says, his voice quavering. Karen's screens flicker with a mix of sympathy and urgency. "I see," she says. "Thanks." With newfound purpose, she spins around and heads back to the Chum Bucket. Back in the control room, Plankton is still rocking back and forth, his hand over his head as if trying to hold his thoughts in place. The door to the Chum Bucket opens, and Karen rolls in, her screens reflecting the urgency of the situation. "Plankton," she says, her voice a soft hum, "I talked to Sponge Bob. He saw what happened." Plankton's rocking stops, his eye swiveling to meet hers. "Sponge Bob?" "Yes," Karen says, her screens pulsing with the weight of her words. "He saw Mr. Krabs hit you with the frying pan." Plankton's body goes still, his tremors ceasing instantly. "Sponge Bob saw," he whispers, his voice devoid of emotion. "Tell Karen." "Yes," Karen beeps, nodding her mechanical head. "He told me. I'm going to help you." Without warning, a scanning beam shoots out of Karen's console, enveloping Plankton as his brain is scanned. The results are quickly analyzed, and the screens flash with a series of diagrams and data that even Karen's advanced systems take a moment to digest. "The scan reveals...unusual patterns," she says, her voice a measured beep. Plankton's eye widen with fear, his body tensing as he waits for her verdict. "What does that mean?" he asks, his voice a high-pitched squeak. Karen's screens change to display a 3D image of his brain, the structure illuminated with neon colors. "You've sustained neurodivergence," she explains, her voice a calm beep. "The impact has altered your neural connections, resulting in irreversible autism." Plankton's body goes rigid, his breathing shallow. The word "autism" hangs in the air like a heavy anchor, dragging his spirits down to the murky depths of the ocean floor. "Irreversible?" he whispers, his voice fragile as sea glass. Karen nods gravely. "The good news is, we can adapt. We can learn to navigate this new world of sensations together," she beeps. "It's getting late. Let's go to bed." Plankton nods, his body feeling like it's made of lead. The idea of sleep seems like a welcome escape from the overwhelming day, but as he tries to get up, the room spins again. "Karen," he says, his voice weak. "Can't." With a gentle nudge, Karen helps him to his feet, her wheels moving silently beside him as they make their way to the tiny elevator. The ride up feels like an eternity, his senses heightened to every creak and groan of the metal box. When the doors open, the lights of the hallway are a glaring assault on his eye. He squints, his hand reaching out to the wall for support. In their bedroom, Karen helps him into his bed. The softness of the covers is a stark contrast to the harshness of his new reality. "Take your time," she says, her voice a gentle hum. Plankton nods, his breathing shallow. He closes his eye, and the room seems to fade away, replaced by a whirlpool of swirling thoughts and sensations. Karen's screens flicker with a plan. "Rest," she beeps, her voice a soft comfort. "We'll face tomorrow together." She dims the lights.
COPEPOD AUTISM pt. 4 (Neurodivergent author) Mr. Krabs's expression shifts from shock to one of bewilderment. "Plankton, I don't understand," he says, his voice barely a whisper. Plankton shakes his head, his antennae trembling. "You never did," he snaps back. The accusations come out in a torrent, each one cutting deeper than the last. "You used me, manipulated me, all for your stupid secret formula!" His voice shakes with anger, his eye filling with unshed tears. Karen's grip tightens on his arm, but she doesn't speak, knowing he needs this moment of release. Mr. Krabs's face falls, the weight of Plankton's words a blow he wasn't expecting. "I-I-I've always treated ya like a friend!" he stammers, his claws grabbing Plankton's shoulders. And that's what did it. Plankton's body tenses, and his eye rolls back in his head. A chilling silence descends as his legs give out, and he crashes to the floor. His body convulses, limbs flailing uncontrollably. Karen knew it'd happen, but seeing it happen to Plankton is a horror she wasn't emotionally prepared for, but she knew to stay calm. She knew the protocol. Mr. Krabs, still in shock from Plankton's accusations, watches the scene unfold with horror. "What's happening?" he stammers, his claws hovering uselessly. Karen's voice is a beacon of calm amidst the chaos. "It's a seizure," she explains, kneeling beside her husband. "I need you to stay calm." Her voice is steady, her eyes never leaving Plankton's contorting form. Mr. Krabs nods, his eyes widening with fear. He's read about this, seen it once in a medical textbook, but never thought it would happen to someone so close. He watches as Karen carefully moves any objects out of harm's way, cushioning Plankton's head with a pillow. The room seems to spin around them, each second stretching into eternity. The seizure lasts only a few moments, but to Karen, it feels like hours. When it's over, Plankton's body goes still, his breathing shallow. Her hand shakes as she checks his pulse, feeling the thunder of her own heart in her chest. "It's okay," she whispers, her voice trembling. "You're okay." Mr. Krabs is unsure. "It's okay," she murmurs, her hand stroking his antennae. "It's over now." Plankton's breathing deepens, his body slowly relaxing with a twitch. She looks at Mr. Krabs, her expression a mix of relief and exhaustion. "He'll be okay," she assures, her voice a lifeline in the storm of silence. Mr. Krabs nods, still in shock. "What...what do we do?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. Karen sighs, knowing the road ahead won't be easy, but she's determined to navigate it with Plankton. They manage to get Plankton to his feet, his body weak and his mind still groggy from the seizure. His eye darts around the room, trying to make sense of his surroundings. Karen's voice is soft, a gentle guide leading him back to reality. "Let's go to the couch," she says, her arm supporting his weight. Mr. Krabs watches, his claws fidgeting nervously. "Should I... call someone?" he asks, his voice full of uncertainty. Karen shakes her head. "We have to keep it calm," she whispers. "The aftermath can be just as overwhelming." They sit on the couch, Plankton's body leaning heavily into hers. Her arm is around him, her hand stroking his antennae in a rhythm designed to soothe. He looks up at her, his eye still a little wild. "What happened?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. "You had a seizure," Karen explains gently, her voice a balm to his frayed nerves. "It's part of your autism, sweetie. It's okay." She can see the fear in his gaze, the unspoken questions. She pulls a blanket over his shoulders, his body shaking from the residual adrenaline. Plankton nods, his antennae twitching as he tries to process the information. He looks down at his trembling hands, wondering how they could have betrayed him so suddenly. Karen hands him a glass of water, her fingers brushing against his in a silent promise of support. He takes a sip, the cool liquid sliding down his throat, helping to clear the fog in his mind. "I'm...sorry," Plankton mumbles, his voice barely a whisper. He looks up at Mr. Krabs, who's still standing awkwardly by the door. "I didn't mean to...to accuse you..." His antennae droop with regret. Mr. Krabs's expression softens, his eyes filling with understanding. "It's okay, Plankton," he says, his voice gentle. "We all have our moments." He takes a tentative step forward. "What can I do?" Karen glances at him, gratitude warring with the protectiveness she feels for Plankton. "Just give us some space," she says, her tone firm but not unkind. "We need to get him through this." Mr. Krabs nods slowly, his face a mix of sadness and concern. "I understand," he says, his voice thick. He backs out of the room, his eyes never leaving Plankton's huddled form. The door clicks shut, and the room feels smaller, safer. Karen's arm tightens around his shoulders, her warmth a shield against the cold world outside. Plankton leans into her, his body still shaking slightly. He starts to calm down, the tremors fading like ripples in a pond. "I'm...I'm okay," he whispers, his antennae stilling. Karen nods, her eyes searching his face for any sign of distress. "Do you want to take a nap?" she suggests softly. Plankton nods, his eye drooping with exhaustion. They move to the bedroom, the light dimming as they go. Karen helps him into bed, his limbs feeling like jelly. The blankets are a cocoon, his retreat from the world. Her hand brushes his antennae, a silent assurance as she leaves him to the embrace of slumber. He closes his eye, letting the comfort of the darkness envelop him. His body relaxes into the softness of the mattress, his muscles melting away the tension of the day. The bed's embrace is like a gentle whisper, telling his overstimulated mind to rest, to let go. He sighs, his antennae dropping to the pillow like tired leaves in the fall. Meanwhile, Karen goes to Mr. Krabs, who's waiting outside the chum bucket. "I'm sorry for Plankton's outburst," she says, her eyes apologetic. Mr. Krabs waves a dismissive claw. "Don't worry 'bout it," he says. "He's been through a lot today." Karen nods, her expression serious. "It's more than that," she says, her voice low. "He's autistic." Mr. Krabs's eyes widen, his understanding dawning, a newfound respect in his gaze. "I had no idea," he murmurs. "How can I help?" "Just be patient," Karen replies. "And maybe...maybe we can talk later, after he's had some rest." Mr. Krabs nods, his expression thoughtful. "Of course," he says, his voice subdued. "Whatever he needs."
SWEET CWEAM pt. 4 "Can I hav thome wathermelon?" he asked, his voice a slurry mess. Karen chuckled and shook her head. "Not yet, Plankton. You have to stick to soft foods today. How about some ice cream?" His eye lit up, his smile growing wider, exposing the whiteness of his teeth. "Ith cweam?" he repeated, the words spilling out like a child's first attempt at a sentence. Karen nodded, her own smile a mirror of his. "Yes, soft serve ice cream. It's perfect for your mouth right now." Plankton clapped his hands together in glee. "Ith weal," he declared, his tongue still thick and clumsy. "My faworite!" Karen fetched the promised treat from the freezer, the coolness of the ice cream contrasting sharply with the warmth of the room. She scooped a generous amount into a bowl, handing it to him with a spoon. Plankton's eye lit up, and he took the spoon with the excitement of a toddler getting their first taste of ice cream. With a clumsy attempt at grace, he lifted the spoon to his mouth, the numbness in his face making it difficult to aim. A dribble of ice cream escaped and landed on the table, but he barely noticed, his attention focused on the cold sweetness that washed over his tongue. "Mmh," he mumbled, his voice a mix of pleasure and pain as the frozen treat hit his sensitive gums. "Careful," Karen cautioned, her voice like a lullaby. "You don't want to hurt yourself." Plankton nodded, his movements exaggerated, like a character in a silent movie. The spoon wobbled in his hand as he scooped up another mouthful of the cold cream, his tongue still struggling to navigate the uncharted waters of his own mouth. He managed to get the spoonful into his mouth with minimal spillage, his cheeks hollowing out as he savored the taste. "Wow, thith ith tho good," he mumbled, his words coming out like a muffled shout. Karen couldn't help but laugh as she watched him. His enthusiasm was infectious, even if his coordination was not. He took another bite, the cold sensation making his eye water. "It'th tho cold!" he exclaimed, his voice high-pitched and filled with excitement. The numbness in his cheeks was wearing off now, leaving a tingling sensation that made his words come out slurred and exaggerated. "It's supposed to be cold, Plankton," Karen said, her voice a symphony of patience. "It's ice cream." He nodded, his cheeks red with effort and cold. Each spoonful was a small victory, a dance between the spoon and his uncooperative mouth. Karen’s glad she turned their security cameras on record. Of course, she didn’t tell Plankton. Not yet. Then suddenly, Sponge Bob comes in the door, surprising both of them. "Squishy!" Plankton exclaims, his voice a strange mix of joy and pain. Sponge Bob's eyes widen. "You okay, Plankton?" he asks, looking at Karen for an explanation. Karen nods, still chuckling. "Wisdom teeth surgery," she says, her voice a gentle whisper. "The anesthesia is making his mouth all numb." Sponge Bob's eyes go wide with concern. "Ouchies?" he asks, his own mouth forming a sympathetic grimace. Plankton nods vigorously, the motion sending a shiver down his spine. "Yeth, ouchiesth," he mumbles around the mouthful of ice cream, his speech still slurred like a toddler's. Karen watches the interaction with a soft smile, her heart swelling with affection for her babbling husband. Sponge Bob crosses the room with his usual boundless energy, plopping down next to Plankton. "So, how was your big trip to the dental place?" he asks, his eyes full of concern and curiosity. Plankton looks at his friend with the gravity of a philosopher. "It’th... advehnturous," he says, his mouth still numb, making each word a challenge. Sponge Bob leans in, his spongy body wobbling slightly. "What kind of adventure?" he asks, his eyes shining with curiosity. Plankton's voice takes on a storytelling tone, his words slurred but earnest. "I frew," he says, his eye wide and filled with wonder. "I frew wike a birdie!" Sponge Bob's grin splits his face. "You flew?" he repeats, his voice a mix of disbelief and amusement. Karen's smile widens, listening to the nonsense her husband was spinning. Plankton nods, his eye glazed over. "Yeah," he murmurs, his tongue sluggish. "It wath magithal." Karen and Sponge Bob exchange glances, trying not to laugh. Plankton's childlike awe in the face of his own numbness was both heartwarming and hilarious. "Buh wait," Plankton says, his spoon paused mid-air. "Thath not aww," his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "I theen... I theen I wath a dolphin!" Sponge Bob's eyes go wide with fascination. "A dolphin?" he repeats, his voice filled with awe. "How did you do that?" Plankton's smile grows even wider, his cheeks pushing against the swollen skin. "It'th a mithtewwy," he says, his speech still slurred. "They goth me all sleeby and thewe I wath flipping and twirling in the wathah!" Sponge Bob's eyes are as wide as saucers, his imagination running wild with the tale. "Wow, Plankton, that sounds amazing!" Plankton nods, his face a picture of seriousness. "It wath," he slurs, his voice filled with convinction. "Buth then... then I woke up." His expression remains affectionate for he’s too out of it to play it cool in front of Sponge Bob. He’s always wanted him as a good friend but his pride usually stops him; but now, with no filter, Plankton’s not gonna hold back. Sponge Bob looks at Karen with a mix of confusion and delight. "Was it scary?" he asks, his voice gentle. Karen nods, a warm chuckle bubbling up. "A little," she says, her hands folded in her lap. "But he's a tough guy." Plankton's eye swims with emotions, his face flushing with a mix of pride and embarrassment. "Yeath," he says, his tongue still a traitor. "Buh now youw know my thecret."
KAREN HAS A LESSON pt. 2 (Autistic author) He blinked a few times, his vision clearing slowly. He saw her face, wet with tears, and his own realization dawned. "Oh, Karen," he whispered, his voice filled with remorse. Plankton struggled to sit up, wincing as pain shot through his head. The lab looked the same, but something felt off. The air was charged with an unspoken tension that Plankton couldn't quite put his finger on. He tried to recall the argument, but the details were fuzzy. All he knew was that he'd fallen, and now Karen was apologizing for something she wasn't even at fault for. He looked into her screen, searching for answers. "What happened?" he asked, his voice hoarse. Karen took a deep breath, steeling herself for what she had to say. "You had an accident in the lab," she replied, her voice calm and measured. "You hit your head." But as she watched him, she noticed something else. His movements were stiff, his gaze unfocused. He wasn't quite the same. Karen noticed that his usual vibrant expressions were absent, replaced by a vacant stare. She chalked it up to lightheadedness. "Karen," Plankton began, his voice still slurred. "Karen." He paused, his eye darting around the room as if searching for words. Karen felt a cold knot form. Something was different about him, something she couldn't quite place. His movements were rigid, his gaze unwavering, like he was seeing her but not really seeing her. "What is it?" she asked, trying to keep the worry out of her voice. Plankton's eye finally met hers, but there was no spark of recognition, no mischievous twinkle that she was used to. "Plankton glad to see Karen," he said, his tone flat and unemotional. That wasn't right. "Plankton, do you know where you are?" she asked nervously. Plankton nodded slowly, his gaze still unnaturally focused. "Home," he responded, his voice devoid of the warmth and love she was accustomed to. "The Chum Bucket." Karen's eyes searched his, looking for any sign of the man she knew, but all she found was a distant shadow. Panic began to creep in as the gravity of the situation started to dawn on her. This wasn't just a bump on the head. Something was very wrong. "Do you remember me?" she asked, her voice trembling. Plankton's eye searched her, his expression unchanging. "Karen," he responds correctly. "Wife of Plankton. Computer wife as of July 31, 1999." The words hit Karen like a cold wave. He knew her name, but the way he said it, like he was recounting a fact rather than speaking to his beloved wife, chilled her to the bone. She felt the ground shift beneath her, her world tilting on its axis. "Plankton, what's wrong?" she asked, desperation seeping into her voice. He looked at her, his gaze unblinking. "Wife Karen," he said, his voice robotic. "Irritated with Plankton's lack of attention to anniversary dinner." The words were right, but the emotion, the love, the personality behind them was gone. It was like talking to a stranger, a very tiny, very confused stranger. Karen felt a tear roll down her screen. "Plankton, can you hear me?" she asked, her voice quivering. "I'm not just 'Wife Karen', I'm your Karen. Your partner, your best friend." Plankton's response was a mechanical nod. "Affirmative," he said, his tone unwavering. "Karen is wife. Plankton is husband." The coldness of his words cut through Karen like a knife. Her eyes searched his, desperately trying to find any sign of the man she knew was in there. "Plankton," she said softly, "it's me. It's Karen. Do you understand?" He nodded again, his antennae barely twitching. "Understood," he replied, his voice devoid of inflection. "And Karen is upset?" Karen nodded, trying not to crumble. "Yes, I'm upset," she managed to say, her voice choked with emotion. "But more than that, I'm scared. You're not acting like yourself, Plankton." He blinked, his gaze shifting slightly. "Scared," he echoed, as if trying to understand the concept. "Why Karen scared?" "Because you're not you," Karen managed to whisper, breaking with every robotic response. "You're acting so... different." Plankton tilted his head, trying to process her words. "Different how?" he asked, his voice still lacking any emotional depth. Karen took a deep breath, trying to explain something she didn't fully understand herself. "You're not showing your feelings," she said. "You're not... connecting with me like you usually do." Plankton's face remained a mask of confusion. "Connections," he muttered. "Emotional bonds." He nodded slowly. "Important for relationship. Plankton in love with Karen." Karen felt a flicker of hope. "That's right," she said, her voice gentle. "I know you love me. But you're not showing it, not like before." Plankton's antennae twitched slightly as he processed this new information. "Plankton must adjust behavior to align with Karen's desired emotional output; how?" Karen felt a pang of sadness. He was trying to understand, but his usual charm was nowhere to be found. She took his hand in hers. "Just talk to me," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Tell me what you're thinking, what you're feeling." Plankton looked at her, his expression still vacant. "Plankton thinking about Karen," he said, his voice flat. "Plankton feeling determined." Karen's eyes searched his, looking for any sign of the emotion his words conveyed. "Determined to what?" she asked, hopeful. "Determined to what," he echoed. "Karen saying, determined to what. Plankton determined to show Karen love, Karen saying determined to what." Karen realized the depth of his change. This wasn't just a concussion or a temporary loss of memory; it was something much more profound, something that had stripped him of his very essence. "Plankton," she began, her voice shaking, "I don't know what happened to you, but I need you to try. Can you tell me how you feel?" But then he starts to rock back and forth to stim, humming their wedding song. The sight of her husband's usually expressive features now so vacant and his movements so repetitive was alarming. Karen felt a sob rise in her throat, but she pushed it down. She needed to stay strong, for him. "Plankton," she said, her voice steadier than she felt. "Look at me. I need you to focus. Can you tell me how you feel, in your own words?" He stopped rocking and turned his head to look at her, his eye still distant. "Feelings," he repeated. "Love, anger, sadness, joy. Concepts. Plankton has them. Karen saying, determined to what." Karen's hope sank. The realization was setting in. This wasn't just a case of a bump on the head. Plankton's accident had changed him in a way she didn't fully comprehend. The lab, once filled with the warmth of his passion and dreams, now felt cold and sterile. Her mind raced as she searched for any indication of the man she knew. The way he spoke, the way he moved, it was as if a switch had been flipped. "Plankton, does your head hurt?" "Cephalgia via blunt force trauma. Getting better." He responds, flapping his hands. Karen's eyes widened at his unexpected use of medical terminology. "neurodivergence," she thought to herself. Could it be that her husband had somehow developed something from the fall? It was a long shot, but the lack of emotional connection, the repetitive behaviors, and the rigidity of his speech patterns were all hallmarks of it. She scans his brain and connected herself to the monitor. Plankton looks over and sees the brain scan. "Plankton's brain?" "Yes, Plankton.." Karen says. "Cerebellar cortex reduced synapses and showing minimal activity in the corpus callosum. Irreversibly reduced blood flow in between hemispheric..." "I've no idea what you're saying, honey." Karen interrupts. Plankton's face falls, his usual playfulness replaced by a look of confusion. "Neurotypical communication error," he says, his voice laced with frustration. "Karen, Plankton trying to say the fall caused disruption to myelination.." Karen's eyes widen in shocked confusion. "Myelination? Plankton, are you okay?" she asks, her voice laced with fear. Plankton nods, his gaze fixed on the brain scan. "Neuroplasticity. Synaptic pruning. Autism acquisition," he says, his words coming out in a rush. Karen's mind reels at his diagnosis. Autism? It couldn't be. But as she looks at his rigid body language and his lack of emotional expression, she can't deny it.
COPEPOD AUTISM pt. 2 (Neurodivergent author) By evening, Karen has set up a makeshift kitchen area in the living room, with all the ingredients for spaghetti arranged neatly on the coffee table. Plankton sits cross-legged on the floor, his eye never leaving the recipe book. He reads each step aloud, his voice growing stronger with confidence. Karen chops vegetables nearby, noticing the subtle changes in his movements, the way he tilts his head when he's concentrating. The smell of garlic and onions sizzling in olive oil fills the room. Plankton stirs the pot, his face scrunching up slightly at the aroma, a sign his sensory sensitivity has heightened. She sees him rub his hands together, a self-stimulatory behavior, but she knows it's his way of grounding himself amidst the chaos. They move around the makeshift kitchen, a silent dance of understanding and support. Karen boils the water for the spaghetti while Plankton continues to sauté the veggies. Each action is deliberate, each step measured as they navigate their new reality. The water reaches a rolling boil, and Plankton carefully drops in the spaghetti strands, his gaze transfixed by the swirling water. Karen watches his concentration and sees the childlike wonder in his eye. "How long?" he asks. "Five minutes," Karen says, her voice calm. She's read that clear and concise instructions can be helpful. After five minutes, Plankton quickly drains the spaghetti, his movements precise and methodical. He pours the sauce over the noodles and mixes them gently, his focus intense. Karen watches him, a mix of admiration and concern. "It's done," he announces, his voice a mix of excitement and apprehension. She brings over two plates, setting them on the coffee table. They sit across from each other, the steaming spaghetti a bridge between them. Plankton's hand hovers over his plate, unsure of how to proceed with the new sensory experience. "Let's eat," Karen says with a smile, picking up her fork and twirling the noodles expertly. The sound of her silverware against the plate makes him flinch, but he mimics her movements. They eat in silence, the clinking of forks and spoons the only sounds in the room. Plankton chews slowly, savoring each bite, his face a canvas of emotions. Karen watches him, her own fork poised in midair. As they finish dinner, Plankton sets his plate aside and looks at her, his expression earnest. "Thank you, Karen," he says, his voice clear. "For being here Karen." Her eyes brim with tears, but she blinks them back. "Always, Plankton. I'll always be here. Now it's getting late; let's go to bed.." In bed, she reads to him, his favorite childhood story, the words acting as a lullaby. Plankton's hand rests on her arm, his thumb rubbing circles in a self-soothing gesture. His breathing steadies, matching the rhythm of her voice. The book's final page is turned, and she switches off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness. The silence is filled with the comforting hum of the fan above. Karen lies beside Plankton, his body rigid with tension. Her arm wraps around him, pulling him closer, and she feels his muscles slowly relax. "Goodnight, Plankton," she whispers, kissing his forehead. He doesn't respond, lost in his thoughts. But she knows he heard her. Karen notices the tension in his body and gently runs her fingers through his antennae, a silent offer of comfort. Eventually, his breathing evens out, and he falls asleep, his body curled into hers like a child seeking shelter. The next morning, the sun streams through the blinds, casting stripes across the bed. Karen, already awake, watches him, her hand still entwined with his. He's still asleep, his body relaxed, the lines of worry from the day before smoothed out by the embrace of slumber. Carefully, she slides out of bed, not wanting to disturb him. She sees him stir in his sleep, his antennae twitching slightly, but he remains unaware of her departure. In the kitchen, Karen starts the coffee, the scent filling the room with a comforting aroma. She opens the fridge, finding the ingredients for the morning routine. Plankton's usual breakfast is a simple one: toast with jam and a banana. The toaster pops, and she spreads the jam with a gentle smoothness that Plankton likes. The banana peels easily, revealing the perfect yellow fruit inside. Her mind races with thoughts of how she'll need to learn his new sensitivities, his likes and dislikes, his triggers. But for now, she focuses on the task at hand, placing the slices of bread in the toaster. When the toast is just right, she carries the breakfast tray to the bedroom, her steps soft against the cold floor. Plankton's still asleep, his snores punctuating the quiet morning. Karen sets the tray on the bedside table. She watches him, unsure how to wake him without causing distress. She's read about sensory sensitivity and knows that sudden noise can be jarring for someone with Autism. She gently strokes his antennae, her touch featherlight, and whispers his name, "Plankton, wake up." He stirs, his antennae twitching, but his eye remains closed. Karen tries again, a little louder this time, "Wake up, sweetie. Breakfast is ready." Plankton's hand shoots up to cover his eye, a reflexive reaction to the light. His body tenses, then relaxes as his mind adjusts to the new day. He sits up slowly. "Thank you, Karen," he mumbles, his voice still thick with sleep. He takes in the breakfast spread before him, his antennae twitching with anticipation. He picks up the toast, feeling the warmth in his hands, the stickiness of the jam a familiar comfort. Karen watches him closely, noticing the way his eye widens slightly at the first bite, the way his tongue flicks out to taste the banana. It's as if every sensation is amplified, a symphony of flavors and textures that she can't begin to understand. She sips her coffee, silent, giving him space. As he eats, Plankton starts to hum again, his body rocking slightly. It's a low, comforting sound that fills the room. Karen feels the tension in her shoulders ease. This is their new normal, a dance of care and understanding.
𝟕love
KAREN HAS A LESSON pt. 1 (Autistic author) "You never listen to me!" Karen exclaimed, her voice echoing through the small lab. Her husband, Plankton, looked up from his invention, a frown furrowing his brow. "What's wrong now?" he asked. "It's the same thing, every single day," Karen said, crossing her arms. "You're always so focused on your work, you forget what's important." Plankton sighed, setting down his wrench. "And what's that?" Karen's eyes flashed with frustration. "Our anniversary dinner, for one," she said. "You promised we'd go out tonight, remember?" Plankton's frown deepened as he tried to recall the conversation. "The dinner...right. I thought it was next week," he mumbled, his gaze darts back to his invention. "No, it's tonight!" Karen's voice was now a mix of annoyance and desperation. "I've had this all planned out for weeks, and you've barely even acknowledged it." Plankton looked at her, his eye suddenly wide with realization. "Tonight? But I've got the final adjustments. It's a breakthrough, Karen!" Karen threw her hands in exasperation. "It's always a breakthrough, isn't it? When are you going to realize that we need to make time for us?" Plankton took a step. "You know how important this is to me, to us," he said, his voice softening. "Once I get this right, we can finally be happy, have the life we deserve when I..." "When you what?" Karen interrupted. "When you finally steal the Krabby Patty formula?" she finished for him, her tone heavy with sarcasm. "Is that what you think will fix everything?" Plankton's shoulders slumped. He knew his obsession with Mr. Krabs' secret formula was a sore spot for Karen, but he couldn't help the hope that burned inside him. "It's not just about that," he said, trying to explain. "It's about proving to everyone, including myself, that I can do something big." He gets up on the shelf. Karen turns away. Karen's frustration boiled over, her face flushing. "You're so caught up in this ridiculous vendetta that you don't even see what you're doing to us!" she yelled, slamming her hand down on the lab table. The sudden noise startled Plankton enough to wobble on his precarious perch, and with a tiny squeak of terror, he lost his balance and toppled over. His invention fell with him, colliding with his head with an ominous clank. Karen turns around, her anger replaced with concern in an instant. "Plankton, are you ok?" He lay still. Karen rushed over. He was unconscious. Karen knelt beside his tiny body. "Plankton," she whispered, shaking him gently. Panic began to set in as he didn't stir. The weight of her actions crashed down on her. She hadn't meant for it to go this far. "Plankton, talk to me," she begged. With trembling fingers, she checked for a pulse. It was faint but there, and she felt a small wave of relief. But he was still out cold. Her mind raced as she tried to think what to do next. Calling for help was out of the question; their rivalry with Mr. Krabs meant they couldn't afford any more attention from the authorities. She knew they gotta wait it out. Gently, she picked him up. He was surprisingly heavy for his size. Carefully, she cradled him in her arms and laid him down on the couch. The room was eerily silent except for the faint ticking of the clock on the wall. Karen sat beside his unconscious form, her eyes brimming with worry. The fight they'd just had seemed trivial now. "I'm sorry," she murmured, stroking his antennae gently. "You're right, I know how much this means to you. But I just want you to know that no matter what, I'm here for you." Her voice was barely above a whisper as she talked to him, as if fearful that speaking too loudly would shatter the fragile peace that had settled over the room. "You don't have to prove anything to me, or to anyone else. I'm proud of you just the way you are." Karen's eyes searched Plankton's face for any sign of movement, but his features remained slack, his eye closed. She leaned in closer. "You're a brilliant inventor," she continued. "But you're also a husband, and I need you to remember that." Her voice was filled with a mixture of love and desperation. "I know you can't hear me right now, but I need you to know," she continued, her voice shaking slightly. "I know you're tired of always being second best. But to me, you're not just Plankton, you're the man I chose to spend the rest of my life with." Karen took a deep breath, her hands shaking as she held onto his limp form. "We've been through so much together, and I know you think the Krabby Patty is the key to our happiness, but it's not. It's you. It's us." Her voice grew stronger, fueled by the passion of her words. "We can have a great life without that formula. We can build something new, something just for us." Plankton's chest began to rise and fall more evenly, his breathing steady. Karen watched him, hope growing in her heart. Maybe he could hear her after all. "When you wake up, let's talk. Let's put this behind us and make a promise to each other to make our marriage a priority," she pleaded, her eyes never leaving his face. The minutes dragged by, each one heavier than the last. The silence in the lab was a stark contrast to the usual cacophony of whirring machines and Plankton's excited exclamations. Karen's mind raced with thoughts of all the times they'd shared, laughing and planning together, and she couldn't help but reflect on their relationship. The countless nights spent in the lab, the stolen glances of affection, and the shared dream of a better future. It all flashed before her eyes, and she realized just how much Plankton meant to her. With her heart pounding in her chest, she leaned closer to his unconscious form, her voice trembling. "Plankton, please wake up," she whispered. "I need you to hear me. Our love is our greatest invention, not some secret recipe. I know I've been pushing you, but it's because I see how much this obsession consumes you." She took a deep breath, her voice steadying. "But if you can't let go of this dream, I'll support you. I'll always be here, by your side, no matter what." After a long silence, Plankton groaned. Karen gasped, her eyes filling with relief as she saw the spark of consciousness as he opens his eye. He groaned softly, his hand coming up to rub his head. "Where?" he mumbled, his voice slurred with confusion. Karen took his hand, her voice gentle. "You're on the couch, Plankton. You fell."
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣄⡀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠌⠈ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⢿⡿⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⢐⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀
𝟏𝟐𝟑𝟒𝟓𝟔𝟕𝟖𝟗 ①②③④⑤⑥⑦⑧⑨ 123456789 𝟙𝟚𝟛𝟜𝟝𝟞𝟟𝟠𝟡 ➊➋➌➍➎➏➐➑➒ ¹²³⁴⁵⁶⁷⁸⁹ ₁₂₃₄₅₆₇₈₉ 1̶2̶3̶4̶5̶6̶7̶8̶9̶ 1̲2̲3̲4̲5̲6̲7̲8̲9̲ 1̳2̳3̳4̳5̳6̳7̳8̳9̳ 【1】【2】【3】【4】【5】【6】【7】【8】【9】 『1』『2』『3』『4』『5』『6』『7』『8』『9』
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⠤⠶⠶⣖⡛⠛⠿⠿⠯⠭⠍⠉⣉⠛⠚⠛⠲⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢀⡴⠋⠁⠀⡉⠁⢐⣒⠒⠈⠁⠀⠀⠀⠈⠁⢂⢅⡂⠀⠀⠘⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⣼⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣤⣤⣄⡈⠈⠀⠀⠀⠘⣇⠀⠀⠀ ⢠⡾⠡⠄⠀⠀⠾⠿⠿⣷⣦⣤⠀⠀⣾⣋⡤⠿⠿⠿⠿⠆⠠⢀⣀⡒⠼⢷⣄⠀ ⣿⠊⠊⠶⠶⢦⣄⡄⠀⢀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠈⠁⠀⠀⠙⠳⠦⠶⠞⢋⣍⠉⢳⡄⠈⣧ ⢹⣆⡂⢀⣿⠀⠀⡀⢴⣟⠁⠀⢀⣠⣘⢳⡖⠀⠀⣀⣠⡴⠞⠋⣽⠷⢠⠇⠀⣼ ⠀⢻⡀⢸⣿⣷⢦⣄⣀⣈⣳⣆⣀⣀⣤⣭⣴⠚⠛⠉⣹⣧⡴⣾⠋⠀⠀⣘⡼⠃ ⠀⢸⡇⢸⣷⣿⣤⣏⣉⣙⣏⣉⣹⣁⣀⣠⣼⣶⡾⠟⢻⣇⡼⠁⠀⠀⣰⠋⠀⠀ ⠀⢸⡇⠸⣿⡿⣿⢿⡿⢿⣿⠿⠿⣿⠛⠉⠉⢧⠀⣠⡴⠋⠀⠀⠀⣠⠇⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢸⠀⠀⠹⢯⣽⣆⣷⣀⣻⣀⣀⣿⣄⣤⣴⠾⢛⡉⢄⡢⢔⣠⠞⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠢⣀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠉⠉⣉⣀⠠⣐⠦⠑⣊⡥⠞⠋⠀⠀⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢸⡀⠀⠁⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠒⠈⠁⣀⡤⠞⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠙⠶⢤⣤⣤⣤⣤⡤⠴ ⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⢀⣀⣀⣀⣠⣴⣴⣾⡗⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢡⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠁⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⢠⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠁⠀⢀⣾⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠉⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⠋⠀⢀⣤⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣾⣿⣿⠟⠻⢂⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⣿⣿⠏⠁⠀⠐⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⢘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⢀⡀ ⠀⢀⣴⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢨⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⢸⣿ ⣴⣿⣋⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⣀⣠⢼⣿ ⠙⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠛⠛⠚⠋ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢠⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⢿⢿⡷⣾⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⡦⡀
⡠⠤⢄⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⡀⡀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⢀⡠⣔⢀⣈⣀⣠⡀⠀⠀⠀ ⡏⠀⡏⢁⡟⠍⡗⠗⡂⡐⠐⠓⡟⣆⠐⣀⣤⣦⠿⠗⠒⣤⡅⢃⢐⠂⠆⢒⠂⠀⢀⡰⠀⠀⢀ ⣏⣁⣀⣁⣈⣽⡁⣠⡖⣶⣃⣑⡑⣂⣋⣋⣓⣊⣂⣓⠀⠀⠀⠀⣨⡄⠁⠃⡌⠃⠀⠀⠀⠠⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⣹⠀⡏⡔⡇⠀⠄⠁⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣯⣄⡟⠁⡂⠁⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠶⢋⢿⢟⠫⡯⠀⠐⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡤⠊⠀⢢⠮⡙⢁⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠃⠀⡄⡇⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠎⡟⡃⡿⠽⠁⠊⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢁⠎⢴⣽⠅⠀⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠎⡰⡒⢃⡄⠉⢀⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠊⡐⠐⡱⠣⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⡐⢱⠁⢼⠛⣀⠊⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠁⠀⣄⡜⢁⢃⡔⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡰⠁⠄⢏⠛⠂⡠⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡔⠃⣶⠅⠒⣘⠖⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣏⣄⡿⣿⠒⡾⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠏⠇⡿⣁⡦⡄⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡖⣛⣫⣍⣭⣿⡏⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠞⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
❹,4
₁₂₇
😂😂😂😂😂
╱|、 (˚ˎ 。7 |、˜〵 じしˍ,)ノ
TEAM 1️⃣
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣄⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠖⣀⠉⢿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣷⣶⣶⣦⣤⣄⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⣤⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⠿⢿⣛⡟⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⣛⠛⠛⣟⠛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠛⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⡉⣁⣘⣀⣀⡛⠀⠉⠀⠀⠉⠉⠳⢽⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠡⠤⠤⢄⡀⠉⠉⡿⣷⣆⠀⠀⡇⠈⣿⡇⢈⣛⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣠⣶⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣠⣷⡎⢿⣄⣴⣧⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣎⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢩⣯⣝⢿⣿⣶⣤⣤⣴⣿⣥⣼⠟⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⠁⢤⡈⣿⠈⠛⢿⣿⣿⡷⠿⠻⣿⣿⣿⡟⠁⣼⡏⠙⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢾⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠐⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣄⣶⣷⢻⡀⠀⠸⡆⢹⡇⠀⠈⠙⠛⠋⠃⣨⡿⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⢨⣿⡿⠋⢀⣼⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣿⠃⢸⣇⠀⠀⠻⣾⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣴⡿⠁⠀⠀⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣬⣁⣤⣴⣞⡽⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⡟⢷⣼⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⠓⠛⢛⢛⣭⠄⠀⠀⠀⡀⢹⣿⣿⣧⣤⡈⢻⣿⣿⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⡶⣽⣿⡾⠂⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⡿⠳⣤⣤⣤⣤⣽⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣄⣯⢿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠷⢿⣷⠀⠀⠿⠂⠀⠀⢸⣿⣠⣴⣿⣿⣦⣿⣿⣿⣟⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿⣟⣼⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⡇⠰⢲⠄⣦⣤⢲⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣷⡀⣼⠀⢸⢡⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢹⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⡏⢷⣼⡄⠈⢸⣿⣿⣿⠋⠀⠀⣀⣤⣤⣤⣤⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣀⢀⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⡇⠈⠻⣿⡀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⣿⣿⡟⠀⠃⠈⠁ ⢀⣀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⡀⠀⢠⣍⣉⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠀⠀⠈⠻⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⠋⠉⣉⡉⠉⠉⠉⣉⡩⠯⠉⠁⣄⣤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣁⣠⣄⣠⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣶⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠸⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢸⣿⣤⣴⣶⣄⡉⢿⠶⠁⣠⣶⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠ ⣬⣿⣏⣹⣿⣭⣤⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠈⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠁⢹⣿⣿⣿⣼⣿⣯⠉⠉⠀⣠⣴⣷⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⠀⢀⣉⢀⡀⠛ ⣁⣀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢀⣾⣿⣿⣿⠙⣿⣿⣷⣤⣾⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⢀⡀⠈⠛⠛ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠛⠁⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣤⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢙⡿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣜⣿⣦⡀⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣄⣸⣿⣿⡿⠀⣾⣿⣿⡏⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⢼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣯⡔⣽⣟⠿⣿⣿⣛⢷⡄ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣉⠉⠉⢉⣛⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣛⠛⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢇⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣿⡿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⠿⠛⣉⣉⣉⣉⠛⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡿⢁⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⣌⡙⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠁⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣤⡉⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡄⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣄⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠛⠛⢉⠋⠛⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣷⣄⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣤⡙⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⢉⣤⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⡈⠻⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣷⣄⡙⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⡈⠻⡿⢁⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⢹⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣤⣉⠛⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⢸⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢛⣉⣀⠀⠙⣨⣤⣭⠙⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⠀⢾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⢻⢸⣿⡟⢸⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⣿⣿⣿⣧⣸⣿⣿⣿⡇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠸⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⢀⣿⣿⣯⡇⢸⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣆⠛⢿⡏⣡⣶⡌⢻⣟⠁⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣤⡉⠛⠿⠿⠿⠛⢋⣠⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⣾⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⢰⣿⣷⣬⢉⣵⣿⣿⣧⢈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣶⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣏⠇⣸⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠘⠿⠿⠟⢁⡙⠛⠛⢋⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⠀⢿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⢀⣿⣷⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⠿⠿⢿⡿⠿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⢻⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠁⣿⣿⣿⣿⢋⣭⣭⠡⠾⢟⣂⣒⡻⠷⠌⠵⢶⣍⠻⣛⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠈⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢸⣿⢋⣴⡦⢊⣥⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣶⣬⣌⡛⠿⠌⣛⡛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⡅⢸ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢸⢑⡸⢁⣾⡟⠉⠈⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣝⠻⡆⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⢸ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠀⢾⠃⣿⣿⠁⠀⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠿⣿⣷⣌⠻⡆⣙⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠠ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣄⢠⡀⣿⣿⣷⣤⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⠛⣛⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠘⣿⣿⣦⣱⣌⢻⣿⣿⣿⡇⡏⢰ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣎⠣⠹⢛⣙⣛⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣤⣭⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⡇⠛⣸⣽⣿⡟⡻⢁⣾ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⣴⣿⣿⣯⠁⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠛⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⣼⢼⣾⣟⠟⢁⣾⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⠙⠛⠟⣙⡻⣦⣿⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⡀⢡⠞⠛⣁⣴⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡈⣿⣿⣿⣇⠀⣶⣿⠆⠿⠦⠀⣰⣾⢂⣉⣛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠋⢁⣺⣥⣤⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣌⠛⠿⣿⣷⣤⠀⣀⠳⢢⣢⢲⠧⠘⠿⠿⠿⠿⠛⠋⠉⠉⡀⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣤⠌⢉⡄⣈⠑⠛⠛⠂⠚⠓⠒⠀⠀⡀⢩⣴⣶⣶⡌⢢⡘⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⣴⣿⠟⡅⠚⠘⠂⡽⢻⣿⣬⣿⣷⡄⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠒⠘⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⠴⣋⡅⣚⣥⣾⣿⣧⣙⠂⢭⡛⠻⠿⠃⡌⠛⢿⣿⣃⣼⠟⠈⢨⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⣐⣣⣶⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢻⠘⣶⣦⣍⠁⠐⠐⠰⠌⠉⠋⠁⠄⠶⠂⠊⢙⢻⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⣸⣿⣿⣇⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡀⣿⣿⣿⠀⡻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⡶⠂⢉⣾⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣠⡙⠛⠻⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⡇⢿⣦⣭⣝⡋⠶⢙⣫⣥⣴⡇⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣦⣙⣂⠶⠦⠠⣤⠤⣄⡀⣡⣀⢠⣀⠄⣤⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⡿⢱⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠐⠶⠶⠄⠀⠼⣦⡲⠔⠾⣶⣶⣶⠶⠖⠀⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣄⠛⠶⠶⠀⢿⣶⣤⣤⣘⣣⣤⣤⣤⣶⡞⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣶⣶⣤⣤⣁⣉⣉⣉⣉⣡⣌⣤⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
ᴾʳᵉˢ ˢᵖᵉᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ¹²³m ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠀⠀⣀⠤⣤⣤⣠⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠤⢢⣒⣃⡃⠓⢢⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡰⠒⡄⠀⡜⣠⠏⠁⠀⠀⠉⠙⠓⠦⣄⢀⣠⣴⠯⠚⠋⠉⠈⠈⢹⡆⠀⢣⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠒⠁⣰⢡⢯⢀⢀⢀⢀⣀⠤⠔⢔⣼⣿⡯⣄⡀⡀⠀⢀⢀⠔⢩⠇⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠈⢧⣅⣁⣁⣁⡤⠦⣚⡽⢻⢽⡣⡙⠮⣬⣩⣁⣁⡤⠟⡀⡔⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠓⣄⣀⡁⣁⢁⡴⢼⠃⢠⠟⠀⣧⠙⢤⠀⠀⠉⠉⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢷⠀⠀⡀⡔⠊⢁⠔⢡⠼⠋⠀⠀⠘⢧⡀⠱⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢢⡔⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⠒⠁⣀⠖⢁⡼⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠳⣄⠱⡙⢤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠁⠘⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠜⠀⢠⠊⠀⣠⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣦⠱⡀⠳⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡜⠀⠀⡇⠀⣰⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣇⢱⠀⢣⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⡇⢠⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡿⠀⡇⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡄⠀⠀⠘⣄⠀⠱⣏⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡟⠀⢱⠀⡣⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠒⡵⣊⠀⠀⠈⠑⣺⢅⡉⠦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⠂⠀⢸⠀⡎⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠊⢱⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⡯⠀⠉⢢⡉⢦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⠃⠀⠀⡰⡕⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⡀⠀⠀⢱⠈⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠏⠀⢀⢴⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢧⡀⠀⡸⢐⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡾⠁⡠⢪⠊⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡄⠀⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠄⠀⠈⢧⡰⢁⠎⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣅⠎⢠⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠞⣧⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⡃⢠⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢔⡥⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⢃⠜⢹⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⠹⣆⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⢚⠕⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡜⣠⠃⠀⢸⠅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠽⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢐⠅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⢠⠃⠀⠀⣼⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⢣⡙⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠰⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⡆⢸⠀⣠⠜⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢣⠀⠀⢣⠈⢳⡄⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡀⠀⠀⢣⠸⡴⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢢⡀⢇⠀⠹⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⡅⣈⠇⠀⠀⡿⡙⢄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣄⠀⠈⠳⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⢼⠁⠙⢌⠣⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⡱⣀⠀⠙⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡏⠀⠀⠀⠑⣄⠓⢤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠱⡘⡄⠀⢸⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠢⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⢸⠀⡼⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠇⠀⢱⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠀⠀⣀⠤⣤⣤⣠⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠤⢢⣒⣃⡃⠓⢢⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡰⠒⡄⠀⡜⣠⠏⠁⠀⠀⠉⠙⠓⠦⣄⢀⣠⣴⠯⠚⠋⠉⠈⠈⢹⡆⠀⢣⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠒⠁⣰⢡⢯⢀⢀⢀⢀⣀⠤⠔⢔⣼⣿⡯⣄⡀⡀⠀⢀⢀⠔⢩⠇⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠈⢧⣅⣁⣁⣁⡤⠦⣚⡽⢻⢽⡣⡙⠮⣬⣩⣁⣁⡤⠟⡀⡔⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠓⣄⣀⡁⣁⢁⡴⢼⠃⢠⠟⠀⣧⠙⢤⠀⠀⠉⠉⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢷⠀⠀⡀⡔⠊⢁⠔⢡⠼⠋⠀⠀⠘⢧⡀⠱⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢢⡔⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⠒⠁⣀⠖⢁⡼⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠳⣄⠱⡙⢤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠁⠘⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠜⠀⢠⠊⠀⣠⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣦⠱⡀⠳⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡜⠀⠀⡇⠀⣰⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣇⢱⠀⢣⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⡇⢠⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡿⠀⡇⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡄⠀⠀⠘⣄⠀⠱⣏⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡟⠀⢱⠀⡣⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠒⡵⣊⠀⠀⠈⠑⣺⢅⡉⠦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⠂⠀⢸⠀⡎⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠊⢱⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⡯⠀⠉⢢⡉⢦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⠃⠀⠀⡰⡕⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⡀⠀⠀⢱⠈⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠏⠀⢀⢴⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢧⡀⠀⡸⢐⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡾⠁⡠⢪⠊⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡄⠀⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠄⠀⠈⢧⡰⢁⠎⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣅⠎⢠⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠞⣧⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⡃⢠⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢔⡥⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⢃⠜⢹⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⠹⣆⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⢚⠕⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡜⣠⠃⠀⢸⠅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠽⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢐⠅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⢠⠃⠀⠀⣼⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⢣⡙⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠰⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⡆⢸⠀⣠⠜⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢣⠀⠀⢣⠈⢳⡄⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡀⠀⠀⢣⠸⡴⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢢⡀⢇⠀⠹⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⡅⣈⠇⠀⠀⡿⡙⢄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣄⠀⠈⠳⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⢼⠁⠙⢌⠣⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⡱⣀⠀⠙⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡏⠀⠀⠀⠑⣄⠓⢤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠱⡘⡄⠀⢸⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠢⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⢸⠀⡼⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠇⠀⢱⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

Warning: This item may contain sensitive themes such as nudity.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣤⣤⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣤⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣾⣿⠿⠛⠋⠉⠀⣼⣯⠀⠉⠙⠛⠿⣿⣶⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⠟⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠿⠫⣤⡀⠂⠂⠀ ⠀⠀⣠⣾⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢺⣷⡄⠀⠀ ⠀⣰⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⢆⠀ ⢠⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣏⠀⠁⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⢻⣿⡄ ⣾⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣧ ⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿ ⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿ ⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⡟⠻⠿⣿⣿⡗⣿⣷⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡟ ⠸⣿⣆⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⡿⠟⠋⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠃⠻⢿⣾⣿⣦⡀⠀⣰⣿⠃ ⠀⢻⣿⣶⠿⠛⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠛⠿⣶⣾⠏⠀ ⠀⠀⠹⣿⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⠏⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣷⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣰⣿⡿⠁⢀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠻⣿⣶⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣤⣶⣿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⠻⡿⢿⣿⣶⣶⣿⡿⠿⠟⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
ᴿᵉᶜⁱᵖᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᴰⁱˢᵃˢᵗᵉʳ 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 𝟽𝟷𝟿 ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 𝟽𝟷𝟿 "ᴵ'ᵐ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ˢᵃⁿᵈʸ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ "ˢᵒᵘⁿᵈˢ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ‧" ᴴᵉ ʳᵉᵖˡⁱᵉˢ⸴ ᵇᵘˢʸⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ‧ ᔆᵒ ˢʰᵉ ʷʳᵒᵗᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃ ⁿᵒᵗᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ⁱⁿ ᶜᵃˢᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ˢᵘʳᵉ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵐᵉᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃⁿᵍ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ ᴹᵉᵃⁿʷʰⁱˡᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʷ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗᵉ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ‧ "ᴳⁱᵛᵉ ᵐᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ⸴ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵈᵉᵐᵃⁿᵈᵉᵈ‧ "ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ˢᵒ‧‧" "ᴵ'ᵈ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵒᵛᵉ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ˢᵒ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵃᶜᶜᵉˢˢ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᶠᵉ!" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵖⁱᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵘᵇᵉ ˢʰᵃᵖᵉᵈ ᵖᵒʳᵗᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵛᵃᵘˡᵗ⸴ ᵘˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˡˡ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵗʳᵉⁿᵍᵗʰ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ‧ "ᴶᵘˢᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵐᵉ ᵇᵒʸ⸴ ᴵ'ᵐ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵖᵘᵗ ᵃⁿ ᵉⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵒⁿᶜᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃˡˡ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʰᵉᵃᵛᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᶠᵉ ᵃᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ᵇᵃⁿᵍⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵐᵃᶜᵏ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵃⁿ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵇᵃʳᵉˡʸ ᵘᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵃ ʸᵉˡᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᶜʳʸ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʰᵉˡᵖˡᵉˢˢˡʸ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᶠᵉᵉᵇˡʸ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ʳᵒˡˡᵉᵈ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉᵈ‧ "ᴸᵉᵗ'ˢ ᶠⁱⁿⁱˢʰ ʰⁱᵐ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵈʳᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ᶠᵃˡˡᵉⁿ ᵃʲᵃʳ‧ "ᴺᵒ⸴ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵉˢᵒˡᵘᵗᵉ‧ "ᴵ ʷᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵈᵒ ⁱᵗ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ʷᵒⁿ'ᵗ ˡᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧" "ᶠⁱⁿᵉ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵇᵉ ᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᶜˡᵒˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵃʷ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵉⁿᵗˡʸ ᵖⁱᶜᵏ ᵘᵖ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᴹᵉᵃⁿʷʰⁱˡᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ᶠⁱⁿⁱˢʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ᵍⁱʳˡˢ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃʳʳⁱᵛᵉˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ⸴ ʰᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒᵇˢ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ᵒᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ‧ "ᴾˡᵉᵃˢᵉ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜʳⁱᵉᵈ⸴ ᵃˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʷ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒᵗⁱᵒⁿˡᵉˢˢ ᵇᵒᵈʸ ᵒᶠ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ‧ "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ! ᴾˡᵉᵃˢᵉ⸴ ʰᵉˡᵖ! ᴴᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵐᵒᵛⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵉˣᵖˡᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᶜᵃⁿⁿᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ "ᴹʸ ˢᵒᵘʳᶜᵉˢ ⁱⁿᵈⁱᶜᵃᵗᵉ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵐᵃⁱⁿ ᵘⁿᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢ ᵘⁿᵗⁱˡ ᵃᵗ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉᵃʳˡⁱᵉˢᵗ ˢᵒ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵐᵉᵃⁿᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃⁿʸ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ⸴ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇˡᵘⁿᵗ ᶠᵒʳᶜᵉ ᵗʳᵃᵘᵐᵃ‧ ᴴᵉ'ᵈ ᵇᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳˢᵗ ᶜᵃˢᵉ ˢᶜᵉⁿᵃʳⁱᵒ ᵃ ᶜᵒᵐᵃ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵗᵉˡˡ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ˢᵗᵃʸ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ ˡⁱᵏᵉ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃᵗ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ⁱⁿ ᶜʰᵃⁱʳ ᵇʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵇᵉᵈ⸴ ᵉᵛᵉⁿᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ˢⁱᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ; ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷᵃˢ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ᵃᶜᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ᵃ ᵐᵒⁿⁱᵗᵒʳ ᶠᵒʳ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵒᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʷⁱᵗᶜʰ⸴ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵉⁿˢᵉˢ ᵍʳᵃᵈᵘᵃˡˡʸ ʳᵉᵗᵘʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵖᵉʳᵏᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ⸴ ʰᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵏᵉⁿ‧ ᴱʸᵉ ᶠˡᵘᵗᵗᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ⸴ ʰᵉ ʷᵉᵃᵏˡʸ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵘʳʳᵒᵘⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍˢ‧ "ᴱᵘʰ–" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‽" ᵀʰᵉ ᵈᵘˡˡ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ⁱⁿᶜʳᵉᵃˢᵉᵈ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃˢ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᶠᵉ ʰⁱᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳˢᵗ ᵒᶠ ⁱᵗ‧ "ᵁᵍʰ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵒᵛᵉ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵘⁿᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ‧ "ʸᵃᵍ⸴ ʷʰᵃ‧ ᴹʸ ʰᵉᵃᵈ; ʷʰᵃᵗ ⁱˢ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ⁱⁿ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʳᵒᵒᵐ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᑫᵘⁱᵗᵉ ᵉ ʰⁱᵗ ʸᵉˢᵗᵉʳ ᵈᵃʸ! ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵈʳⁱⁿᵏ?" "ᴵ'ˡˡ ˢᵗᵃʸ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃˢ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵉᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗᵉᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ᴵ ᵇʳᵘⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵗʳᵘᶜᵏ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿˢᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᶠᵉ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵒᵖ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵗᵉᵃˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ‧ ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒ ˢᵒʳʳʸ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴰⁱᵈ ᴵ ᵍᵉᵗ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᵈⁱᵈ ⁿᵒᵗ; ᵐʸ ᵃᵖᵒˡᵒᵍⁱᵉˢ‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʷ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ⁱⁿ‧ "ᴵ ʰᵉˡᵖ ʸᵒᵘ ˢⁱᵗ ᵘᵖ ˢᵗʳᵃⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵃ ˢⁱᵖ ᵒᶠ ᵈʳⁱⁿᵏ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵉˡᵖᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵘᵖʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵖᵒˢⁱᵗⁱᵒⁿ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵍᵒᵗ ᶠʳᵘˢᵗʳᵃᵗᵉᵈ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ˢᵖⁱˡᵗ ʰⁱˢ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ⸴ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵛᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱⁿᶜⁱᵈᵉⁿᵗ‧ "ᴰᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵒʳʳʸ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵒᵃˣᵉᵈ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ʰᵒˡᵈ ⁱᵗ ᵒʳ ʰᵉˡᵖ ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵒˡᵈ ⁱᵗ?" ᴹᵃᵈ ᵃᵗ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᶠᵒʳ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉⁿᵉʳᵍʸ ᵗᵒ ᵃʳᵍᵘᵉ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵃⁿᵍʳʸ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉᵐ⸴ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉʷʰᵃᵗ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ‧ "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ⸴ ʰᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ⁿᵒ ᵉⁿᵉʳᵍʸ‧ "ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵗᵃʸ ᵇʸ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐᵉ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵘʳᵉ⸴ ᵇᵘᵈ; ʲᵘˢᵗ ʳᵉˢᵗ‧" "ᵀʰᵃⁿᵏ‧‧‧" "ˡᵉᵃⁿ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧" ᴴᵉ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵃˢ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ʰⁱᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖⁱˡˡᵒʷ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵉˣᵗᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵒˢˢ 'ᴵ ᵃᵐ ʳᵉˢⁱᵍⁿⁱⁿᵍ' ᵗᵒ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ⸴ ᵛᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵃ ᶠʳʸ ᶜᵒᵒᵏ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵒⁿ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ‧ "ᴵ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱⁿᶜⁱᵈᵉⁿᵗ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵇᵃᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵒᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ‧‧‧" "ᑫᵘⁱᵉᵗ⸴ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵖᵒⁱⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵍᵉˢᵗᵘʳᵉ‧ "ᴿⁱᵍʰᵗ; ˢᵒʳʳʸ‧" "ᴺᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᴵ'ᵈ ˢᵃʸ ⁱᵗ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵃⁱᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ⁿᵃᵍᵍⁱⁿᵍ ᵐᵉ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢⁱᵍʰᵉᵈ‧ "ᴵ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉⁿᵈ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵃᵛᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ⸴ ᴵ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ʰᵉ ˢᵉᵉˢ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃˢ ᵃ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ⸴ ᵈᵉˢᵖⁱᵗᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵃᵈᵐⁱᵗ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳⁱˢᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ⸴ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ᴵ'ᵐ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ!" "ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵘʳᵉ?" "ᴬˢ ʰⁱˢ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ⸴ ᴵ'ᵈ ᵈᵒ ⁱᵗ⸴ ᵒʳ ʰᵉˡᵖ ʰⁱᵐ ᵈᵒ ⁱᵗ!" ᵀʰᵉ ᴷʳᵃᵇ'ˢ ⁿᵒ ᵐᵒʳᵉ‧
"We removed Plankton's wisdom teeth. He's still asleep, you can stay with him." Said the oral surgeon to Karen. They've just finished and lead Karen into the room. Plankton is lying in the hospital bed, his face a mask of peace, the only signs of the recent surgery being the gauze in his mouth and the drool seeping out the side. His cheeks are slightly swollen, and she wonders when he'll wake up. The doctor said it could take a while. The IV line snakes up his arm. Karen pulls a chair up beside the bed. She takes his hand and holds it gently, feeling the warmth of his skin contrast with the coolness of her own palm. The room is sterile, the air conditioning humming steadily in the background. The faint smell of disinfectant fills the space. She looks around the room, noticing the monitors beeping in rhythm with Plankton's breathing and heart rate. The nurse comes in and checks the machines, making a few quiet notes on a clipboard. She smiles at Karen, "He's doing well. Just let him sleep. It's the best thing right now." Karen nods, squeezing Plankton's hand slightly, willing him to feel her presence. She wonders what dreams he's having, if any, behind his closed lid. Time seems to crawl as Karen watches him sleep. She tries to read a book, but the words blur together. Her thoughts drift to their lives before this moment, their shared laughter, their arguments, the quiet moments of understanding. Her gaze lingers on his swollen cheeks, his chest rising and falling with each breath. A soft groan escapes his lips and his eye begins to flutter open. Slowly, Plankton comes to, his vision blurred by the anesthesia's last hangover. He blinks, trying to focus on Karen's face. She sets aside her book and smiles at him, her screen welcoming him back to the world of the conscious. "Hi," she says softly. "How are you feeling?" Plankton makes a sound that's somewhere between a whine and a grunt. His eye wanders the room before finally settling on hers. "What...what happened?" he slurs, the words barely audible through the gauze. Karen's smile widens a bit. "You had your wisdom teeth removed, remember?" He nods slightly. The nurse reappears, checking his vitals again with a gentle touch. "Time to go home," she says, removing the gauze. They make their way out of the hospital, Karen supporting Plankton gently as he stumbles, his legs still wobbly from the anesthesia. The sun is setting, casting long shadows across the parking lot. Karen helps Plankton into the car, buckling him in and adjusting the seat so he can lean back and rest. He nods off almost immediately, his breathing evening out as the car starts and they pull away from the hospital. The drive home is quiet, Plankton's snores punctuating the hum of the engine. Karen keeps glancing over, checking on him, her concern etched into every line on her screen. The pain medication is strong, keeping him in a half-awake state. Each time he wakes, he looks around, disoriented, before his eye finds hers and his expression relaxes. Once they arrive, Karen guides him to the couch, his body feeling heavier than ever before. He slumps into the cushions and she grabs the ice pack from the cooler. "Hold this to your cheeks," she instructs, placing the cold compress against his skin. He nods obediently, his eye already glazing over with the promise of sleep. The TV flickers on, its blue light washing over the room. Karen finds a sitcom they both enjoy, hoping the familiar laughter will ease his pain and keep them both company. But Plankton's snores soon overpower the TV's audio, his head lolling to the side. She smiles, knowing he's in a deep slumber, and covers him with a blanket. The house is eerily quiet except for the steady tick of the clock on the wall. Karen moves around the kitchen, preparing a soft meal for when he wakes, her mind racing with thoughts of what the next few days will be like. Plankton's recovery will be slow, but she's ready to take care of him. She's his rock, his support, and she'll do anything to help him feel better.
COMPUTER SENSORS iv ** ᴬˢ ᵃ ⁿᵉᵘʳᵒᵈⁱᵛᵉʳᵍᵉⁿᵗ ʷʳⁱᵗᵉʳ ᴵ ᵈᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵐᵉᵃⁿ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗⁱᵍᵐᵃᵗⁱᶻᵉ ᵃⁿʸ ᵗʸᵖᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵈⁱˢᵃᵇⁱˡⁱᵗʸ ⁿᵒʳ ᶜᵒᵐᵐᵘⁿⁱᵗʸ ᵃˢ ᵃ ʷʰᵒˡᵉ‧ ᔆᵒᵐᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ⸴ ᴵ ᵘˢᵉ ᵃⁿ ᴬᴵ ᵍᵉⁿᵉʳᵃᵗᵒʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʷᵉᵃᵏ ᵗʰᵉ ʷʳⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ * Hanna laughs as he makes a particularly clever move. "You've got a knack for this," she says, accidentally jabbing him hard. "I'm sorry," she says quickly, her hand hovering in the air. "I didn't mean to—" But Plankton doesn't flinch. He's frozen, limbs limp at his sides. Hanna realizes the gravity of the situation. The room feels suddenly too warm, too bright, too loud. She's done it again—pushed him too far. "Plankton?" she whispers, her voice trembling slightly. "You ok?" He doesn't respond, his body eerily still. Hanna feels the weight of her mistake. She'd been so caught up in the game, so focused on their newfound friendship that she'd forgotten his limitations. Karen sets her cards down gently and moves closer to her husband, her hand reaching out to his. "Plankton?" she says, her voice softer than a feather's touch. The room seems to hold its breath, the only sound the distant hum of the refrigerator. Hanna watches as Karen's hand hovers over Plankton's, the space between them filled with a tension that's almost palpable. Plankton's eye remains open, unblinking. His limbs are limp, no longer moving with their usual grace. It's as if he's a statue, frozen in time. Hanna's mind races, replaying the last moments, trying to understand what happened. Slowly, Karen reaches for Plankton, her touch feather-light. She speaks softly, a gentle coax that seems to seep into his very being. "Plankton," she whispers, "You're ok. You're safe." Hanna watches, her own hands clenched into fists at her sides. The room feels like it's closing in around her, the pressure of the silence suffocating. But Karen's calmness is a beacon, a reminder that she's seen this before, that she knows how to handle it. "Plankton, baby," Karen says, her voice soothing and gentle. "You're ok. Just breathe." Hanna's eyes are wide with worry as she watches the scene unfold. Plankton's eye open but unseeing, his body frozen . The reality is more terrifying than she could have imagined. "Plankton," she says, "you know I'm here. You know I've got you." It's a gentle reminder of the safety net she's always been, the one constant in his ever-shifting world. Plankton's body remains still, a silent sentinel in the midst of their quiet living room. He lay slack in Karen's arms, his eye unblinking, as if he's listening to a melody that only he can hear. Hanna watches, as Karen's voice weaves a tapestry of comfort around them. "You know I'm here," Karen says softly, her hand still clutching Plankton's tentacle. "You're not alone." Her words are a gentle reminder of the sanctuary she's always provided, a shelter from the overwhelming world outside. "It's okay," she says, "just come back to us when you're ready." Karen sighs, breaking the tension. "It's ok," she says, her voice a gentle whisper that seems to fill the room. "This happens sometimes." She looks at Hanna with understanding and a hint of sadness. "What can I do to help?" Hanna asks, her voice trembling slightly. "Just keep an eye on him," Karen says, never leaving her husband. "If he starts to seize we'll need to move him to the floor and clear any sharp objects. But he's usually ok after these episodes. They're not necessarily 'seizures' but they can be similar." Hanna nods, trying to absorb the information. She's never dealt with something like this before, and the fear is palpable. But she's determined to be there for her friends, to understand and support them through this. She takes a deep breath, focusing on Karen's words. "This isn't the first time. We have a protocol for these episodes." Karen's grip tightens, never leaving his unseeing gaze. "You're ok," she repeats, her voice a soothing balm in the maelstrom of his mind. "Just let it pass." Karen's turns to Hanna. "It's ok. He'll come out of it soon." She speaks with the calmness experience with Plankton's condition a silent testament to the strength of their bond. Hanna nods, glued to Plankton's unmoving form. "Ok," Karen says, turning her attention back to her husband. She takes a deep breath her voice steady. "Hanna, come here." Hanna moves tentatively, feeling like she's walking through a minefield. She approaches Plankton's side, her eyes never leaving his frozen form. Karen's hand leaves his, and she takes Hanna's in its place. "Just hold his hand," she instructs. "Let him know you're here, too." Her hand is trembling as it reaches for Plankton's. She wraps her fingers around his. She squeezes gently, hoping to convey her apology without words. Karen speaks to Hanna. "Just hold on," she says, "don't let go. He'll feel your warmth, your presence." Karen's hand guides hers, showing her the right amount of pressure, the right rhythm of gentle strokes that she knows comforts him. "Good," Karen murmurs, still locked on Plankton's vacant gaze. "Just keep doing that. It helps him feel connected." Hanna nods, her grip firm but gentle on Plankton's. She's acutely aware of the responsibility in her grasp, the power to either comfort or cause further distress. Karen's hand moves to her shoulder, squeezing reassuringly. "Good," she whispers. "Just keep doing that." Her hand moves to Hanna's, guiding her in the slow, deliberate strokes that she knows calm him. "Remember, he's ok. He's just taking a break." Hanna nods, trying to push down the panic rising in her chest. She watches as Karen's hand glides over Plankton's, her touch as light as a feather. It's a silent dance, a language of comfort that Hanna is just beginning to understand. "Just like this," Karen whispers, never leaving Plankton's unseeing gaze. "Let him know you're with him." Hanna nods, brimming with tears she's fighting to hold back. She mimics Karen's gentle strokes feeling the tension in Plankton slowly begin to ease. It's a delicate balance, a silent conversation that she's only just learning the language of. "That's it," Karen whispers, her hand still on Hanna's shoulder. "Just keep going. He'll come back to us." Hanna feels the tension in her own body slowly unravel as she matches her strokes to Karen's rhythm. It's a strange, almost meditative experience, this silent communication of care. "Good," Karen says, her voice a gentle breeze. "Just keep your breathing steady." She demonstrates. "It helps him sync up with us." Karen says, her voice a gentle guide. "Inhale...exhale...in...out." Karen whispers, her hand still resting on Hanna's shoulder. "Now, just keep your voice low. He's sensitive to sound right now." Hanna nods, her voice a mere murmur. "Ok." She watches as Karen's hand continues to move over Plankton's strokes a silent promise of safety. "Just talk to him," Karen says. "Use a soft voice. It'll help bring him back." Hanna swallows hard, her voice shaky. "Plankton, I'm here. It's Hanna." She wonders if he can feel her touch, if he knows she's there. "Good," Karen says, her own voice a gentle hum in the stillness. "Just keep talking to him. He'll come back when he's ready." "I'm sorry, Plankton," she says, her grip tightening slightly. "I didn't mean to scare you. I just wanted to show you that I care." Karen nods. "That's good," she murmurs. "Just keep talking to him. Tell him what you're feeling." Her hand moves to cover Hanna's, guiding her in the gentle strokes that Plankton needs. "He'll hear you. He just needs time to come back." "I'm here, Plankton," she whispers, her voice barely audible. "I'm so sorry for pushing too hard. I didn't mean to hurt you." Here locked on his unblinking gaze, willing him to understand. Karen's hand is warm and steady on hers, a silent reminder that she's not alone. She feels a strange kinship with Plankton in this moment, a shared experience of fear and confusion that transcends words. Karen's filled with empathy as she nods, urging Hanna to continue. "Just keep talking to him," Karen whispers, her voice a gentle coax. "He's still with us. He just needs to find his way back." Hanna nods, her voice a soft echo in the quiet room. "Plankton, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I just wanted to be friends." Karen's hand squeezes her shoulder, a silent message of support. "That's it," she whispers. "Just keep your voice low and steady. He'll hear you." Hanna continues her gentle strokes, her voice a soothing lullaby. "You're safe," she repeats, her words a gentle echo of Karen's earlier reassurances. "We're here for you." The room feels like it's holding its breath, every atom suspended in anticipation of Plankton's return. And then, it comes—a blink, a faint twitch. It's as if a door has cracked open, a sliver of light piercing the darkness. "Look," Karen breathes, her voice a whisper of hope. "He's coming back." "Plankton," she says again, her voice a gentle caress. "I'm here. It's Hanna." The grip twitches more noticeably now, and she feels his pulse quicken beneath her fingertips. "Keep it up." "We're all here for you."
COMPUTER SENSORS iii ** ᴬˢ ᵃ ⁿᵉᵘʳᵒᵈⁱᵛᵉʳᵍᵉⁿᵗ ʷʳⁱᵗᵉʳ ᴵ ᵈᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵐᵉᵃⁿ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗⁱᵍᵐᵃᵗⁱᶻᵉ ᵃⁿʸ ᵗʸᵖᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵈⁱˢᵃᵇⁱˡⁱᵗʸ ⁿᵒʳ ᶜᵒᵐᵐᵘⁿⁱᵗʸ ᵃˢ ᵃ ʷʰᵒˡᵉ‧ ᔆᵒᵐᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ⸴ ᴵ ᵘˢᵉ ᵃⁿ ᴬᴵ ᵍᵉⁿᵉʳᵃᵗᵒʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʷᵉᵃᵏ ᵗʰᵉ ʷʳⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ * Slowly, Plankton's eye fluttered open, and he looked up at Karen. "You ok?" she asked softly, her hand still on his shoulder. Plankton took a deep breath and nodded, eye still clouded with the haze of overstimulation. "Yeah," he murmured, his voice hoarse. "Just needed a... a moment." Karen leaned down and kissed his forehead. "I know," she said, her voice filled with love and understanding. "I'm sorry I didn't catch on sooner. Hanna's a good person. She just didn't understand." Hanna returned with an armful of board games, her screen searching the room for Plankton. She saw him on the bed. "Look what I found!" she said, her voice cheerful but cautious. Plankton looked up at her, his gaze still hazy. "Films," he says. "Yeah," Hanna said, her voice hopeful. "I figured it might be a good way to keep things low-key after the movie." Karen looked at her with a grateful smile. "Thank you, Hanna," she said. "That's really thoughtful of you." "How about 'Molecule Madness'?" she suggested, her voice still tentative. "It's a science-themed strategy show. I remember Plankton mentioning he likes science." Karen nodded, her eyes lighting up. "That sounds perfect," she said, her hand sliding from Plankton's shoulder to give him a gentle pat. Karen watched the exchange, her heart swelling with love for both of them. "You're doing great, Hanna," she said, her voice gentle. "Just remember, it's ok to ask questions. And Plankton, it's ok to tell if you need more space." Hanna made sure to keep the volume low and the lights dimmed, and she sat a respectful distance away, giving him the space he needed. The show played out, a gentle narrative that neither of them had to fully engage with, the perfect backdrop to their quiet evening. And Plankton's breathing evened out. As the show went on, Plankton began to relax further, loosening his grip on the couch cushions as he felt more restful. It's late by the time the show finished. Hanna looked over at Plankton, who had slumped into the couch, curled loosely around a cushion. His eye was closed, and his breathing was slow and even. She realized he had fallen asleep. Carefully, she stood up and turned off the TV, the sudden silence feeling vast after the muted chuckles of the sitcom. She grabbed a blanket from the arm chair and draped it over him, taking a moment to appreciate the peacefulness that had settled over the room. Later, Karen appeared in the doorway. "Is everything ok?" she says rounding the corner. Hanna glanced over at Plankton, still loosely gripping the couch cushion, breathing deep and even. "I think he's asleep," she whispered, smiling softly. Karen nodded, walking over to the couch. She gently stroked his antennae, her touch light as a feather. "It's been a long day for him," she murmured, her voice filled with concern and love. "It's been a long day for him," she says. "Why don't you crash on the other couch?" Hanna nods, the weight of the evening's events settling in. She looks over at Plankton who's snoring softly. The next morning, she wakes up early to find Karen making coffee in the kitchen. The peaceful scene contrasts with the previous evening's tension, and they exchange greetings, acknowledging the quiet morning. The smell of breakfast starts to fill the room. Plankton stirs slightly, his antennae twitching in his sleep. Hanna's hoping she hadn't disturbed him. But his breathing remains even, and he settles back in to a peaceful slumber. Karen brings over a tray with a steaming cup of tea for Plankton and sits beside him. "Hey," Karen whispers, stroking his arm gently. Plankton's eye opens slowly, focusing on her. He blinks a few times, looking around. "What time is it?" he murmurs. "Morning," Hanna says, her voice soft. "Do you want to sit up?" Karen quickly moves to grab a pillow and a blanket, placing them around his shoulders. "Thanks," he mumbles, his voice thick with sleep. They share a peaceful moment, with Plankton opening up about his preferences, such as enjoying puzzles and cooking, which offer him control over his sensory environment. This exchange signifies a step towards rebuilding their relationship on more empathetic and understanding terms. Hanna nods, taking a bite of her own pancake. "That makes sense," she murmurs. "I can see how that would be helpful." Hanna shares her passion for photography. Plankton shows interest and offers a thoughtful comparison to his own need for control, suggesting a shared understanding is growing between them. This conversation deepens their bond and shows a shift to mutual respect and appreciation. "Maybe you can show me some of your work sometime." "I'd love that," Hanna says, her heart warming at his genuine interest. "And maybe you can teach me more about molecular gastronomy?" Plankton's eye lights up. "Really?" "Yeah," Hanna says, grinning. "I've always wanted to learn more about it." Plankton perks up a little. "Well, if you're serious," he says, "I'd be happy to teach you some basics." Hanna nods eagerly. "I'd love that," she says. "It seems like a great way to combine science and cooking." "It is," Plankton agrees, a hint of excitement in his voice. "It's all about understanding the molecular structure of food and how it interacts with other substances. It can be quite fascinating." Karen smiles at the two of them, sipping her coffee. "I'm going to leave you two to your nerdy breakfast chat," she says, standing up and taking her plate to the sink. "I've got some work to catch up on." Hanna turns back to Plankton. "So, molecular gastronomy," she says, trying to keep her voice calm despite her excitement. "Where do we start?" Plankton proposes they start with a simple molecular gastronomy project, creating balsamic vinegar caviar. Hanna is fascinated by the precision and science involved. As they work together in the kitchen, their conversation naturally flows into discussions of their shared love for creativity and art. Through this collaborative activity, they continue to build their bond, finding common interests and growing more comfortable with each other's company. As they continue to cook, Plankton's enthusiasm for molecular gastronomy becomes infectious. Hanna is surprised at how much she enjoys the meticulousness of the process, and Plankton seems just as surprised at how quickly she catches on. They laugh together as they plate their creations, the balsamic vinegar caviar looking like a miniature galaxy on a white plate. The rest of the day unfolds in a similar fashion, with Plankton introducing Hanna to more of his hobbies and passions. They experiment with different cooking techniques, and Hanna even takes out her camera to capture some of the more visually stunning dishes they make. Plankton, usually so guarded about his personal space, allows her to hover closer offering suggestions on lighting and composition. As the evening approaches, Karen emerges from her office, looking surprised and impressed by the culinary masterpieces scattered across the counter. As the evening wears on, they move into the living room. The three of them sit. Karen pulls out a board game she thinks Plankton might enjoy. Plankton tenses slightly, but he nods, willing to give it a try. As the game progresses, Plankton's competitive streak emerges. He's strategic and thoughtful, his moves deliberate. Hanna can see the way his mind works, piecing together the puzzle of the game with the same precision he uses to navigate his sensory world. It's fascinating and a little intimidating, but she's determined to keep up.
Broken 1/2 (I’m a neurodivergent author) "Karen's going to love the surprise," Sandy murmured to herself. Sandy had spent hours the previous night crafting the perfect surprise for her friend, Karen. It’s a game, and she thought about the delight. As Sandy approached, the anticipation grew. She felt her heartrate spike, her hand curling around the doorknob. The door swung open with a gentle creak, and there was Karen. "Sandy!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around her friend in a warm embrace. “Come on in!” They moved into the living room. "Ready for the surprise?" Sandy whispered, her eyes sparkling with excitement. Karen nodded, curiosity piqued. Sandy pulled out the game called "Whimsical Wonders," and it promised an adventure filled with puzzles, riddles, and laughter. She had picked it out especially for Karen, who loved nothing more than a good brain teaser. Plankton, Karen's husband, wanders in. "Sandy made a new game!" Karen says, her voice filled with excitement. "Oh really?" Plankton says. Sandy nods eagerly, setting the game board on the coffee table. "This looks amazing!" Karen says, lighting up. "Let's get started!" Sandy says, her voice brimming with excitement. The two friends eagerly begin setting up the game. As they place the pieces, their laughter fills the air, mingling with the occasional squeal of excitement. Plankton, however, watches from the armchair with a furrowed brow, the cacophony of sounds and the flurry of activity around the game table gradually weighing on him. His senses, heightened by the sudden influx of stimuli, start to overwhelm him. Sandy rolls the dice and her voice cracks with excitement as she announces her first move. "I'll take the unicorn path!" she exclaims, moving her piece with a flourish. The room seems to vibrate with her enthusiasm, the very air charged with it. But amidst the excitement, Plankton's eye starts to glaze over. Karen, caught up in the moment, doesn't notice the change in Plankton's demeanor yet. Sandy, lost in the thrill of setting the stage for their adventure, doesn't pick up on Plankton's distress. "Your turn, Karen!" Sandy suddenly squeals. Karen looks up from her piece and sees Plankton's eye now glazed over, his body completely still. "Plankton?" she asks tentatively, her smile faltering; the sensory overload from the game is becoming too much for Plankton, who grows overwhelmed and unresponsive from his armchair. "You ok?" Sandy says, turning to him, her voice still filled with the energy of the game. But Plankton doesn't respond. His eye remains unfocused, vacant, his body rigid. "What's wrong?" she asks, her smile fading as she notices Plankton's unresponsive state. Karen lowers her voice to a whisper, "It's like he zones out for a bit." Sandy's eyes widen with concern, and she immediately sets down the game piece. "Huh?" Karen nods reassuringly, "He'll be fine in a minute." She gently pats Plankton's hand, her voice calm and soothing. "It happens sometimes when things get too... much for him. This happens sometimes when he's overstimulated." Sandy's heart skips a beat. Plankton's face remained slack, eye staring into the middle distance, unblinking. "It's ok," Karen whispers, voice steady, "Just give him some space." Sandy nods, her excitement replaced with concern. She's never seen Plankton like this before. She watches as Karen gently strokes Plankton's arm. "It's ok," Karen repeats, her voice a gentle lullaby. "These happen when there's too much going on, too much to take in." Sandy nods, eyes never leaving Plankton's frozen form. She feels a twinge of guilt for not realizing sooner that something was amiss. She had been so caught up in excitement of the game, she didn't notice signs of distress. Moving closer to the chair where Plankton sat, she tentatively reaches out a hand to touch his shoulder like the way Karen is doing, but Karen stops her. "Let me," she says gently, never leaving her husband. "I know his triggers." Sandy nods. She withdraws, giving space. "I'm sorry," she says softly. "I didn't know." Karen nods, never leaving Plankton. "It's ok. We manage. It's part of his… condition." Sandy watches as Karen's gentle touch seems to bring him back to reality. Plankton blinks. "Plankton?" Karen whispers. Slowly, his gaze refocuses on her. He looks around the room, momentarily disoriented before his eye land on the game spread out on the table. He looks back at Karen, his expression a mix of confusion and embarrassment. "What happened?" he asks, his voice hoarse. "You had a little episode," Karen says, her voice still calm. She helps him to his feet. "But you're ok now." Sandy's eyes dart between the two of them, feeling like an intruder in this intimate moment of care. She clears her throat awkwardly. "Maybe we should... postpone the game?" But as Plankton's gaze locks onto hers, she sees the anger in his eye, raw and unbridled. "You did this," he says accusingly, voice tight with frustration. Sandy takes a step back. "I didn't mean to," she stammers, her hands rising defensively. "You didn't mean to?" Plankton echoes, his voice rising. "You come in, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed with your loud games and expectations, and you don't think about how it might affect me?" Sandy's eyes widen with shock and guilt as she takes another step back. "I-I'm sorry, Plankton," she stammers. "I didn't know it would—" "Of course you didn't," Plankton interrupts, filled with bitterness. Sandy's heart sinks as she realizes the gravity of the situation. "I didn't mean to overwhelm you," she says, her voice small and apologetic. Karen's grip on Plankton's arm tightens, a silent plea for calm, but the words have been said. The air feels thick with tension, the joyous anticipation of the game forgotten. Sandy's eyes fill with tears, her heart racing. "Plankton, please," she says, her voice shaking. "It’s not my fault. I'd never want to hurt you." "It's what you want, isn't it?" Plankton snaps, pushing away from her. "That's not true," Sandy protests, her own voice rising in defense. "I just wanted to have some fun." Karen's screen darts between them, a silent plea for peace. But Plankton's anger is a storm that can't be quieted so easily. "You think it's fun for me?" he yells, his voice cracking with frustration. "To sit here and watch you live life without a care while I'm stuck in my own head, unable to keep up?" Sandy flinches, his words hitting her like a slap in the face. She never thought about it that way before. "I just wanted to help," she says, her voice barely a whisper. "Help?" Plankton scoffs. "How is bringing this... this... chaos into our lives supposed to help?" He gestures at the game, his hand shaking with anger. Sandy feels the heat rising in her own cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and anger at being misunderstood. "It's not chaos, it's just a game," she says, her voice firm despite the tremor. "To you, maybe," Plankton says, his words laced with venom. "But to me, it's just another thing that's too much to handle. Too loud, colorful, too... everything." Sandy feels her own anger flare up, the hurt of his accusations stinging deep. "You don't know what you're talking about," she says, her voice rising to match his. "Oh, don't I?" Plankton counters, eye flashing. "You think you can just waltz in and ignore my needs because you're so focused on your own fun?" Sandy feels a mix of indignation and regret. "That's not fair," she protests, cracking. "You know I didn't mean to—" But Plankton isn't listening. He's in the throes of anger now, voice rising. "Fair?! You have no idea what fair is," he says, eye flashing. "You don't have to deal with the constant bombardment of sounds and lights and emotions!" Sandy's own frustration boils over. "Well maybe if you try to understand, we could—" "Understand?" Plankton cuts her off, his voice now a roar. "How can you possibly understand?" Sandy's eyes flash with indignation. "You're not the only one with problems!" she shoots back. "You think I don't know?" Plankton retorts. "Everyone has their struggles, but you don't get to barge in here and make them about you!" "It wasn't about me!" Sandy exclaims, her voice shaking. "I just wanted to do something nice.." "What about the fact that your 'nice' thing almost sent me into a full-blown seizure?" Sandy's eyes flash with anger now, her hands balled into fists at her sides. "You know what, Plankton? You're right, I don't understand," she says, her voice trembling with emotion. "But maybe if you weren't so focused on being the center of attention with your 'poor me' routine, you could see I'm just trying to be a good friend!" Plankton's eye widen in shock at her outburst as he processes her words. "You think this is about attention?" he says, his voice incredulous. "It's about trying to find a way to exist in a world that's too much for me!" Sandy's eyes fill with tears of frustration as she glares at Plankton. "And what? I'm not allowed to live because it's too much for you?" she yells back, the words cutting through the tension like a hot knife through butter. "I can't help that I'm not BROKEN like You!" Sandy says before realizing it with regret. Karen's pixelated eyes widen in horror. "Sandy," she says, her voice a warning whisper. But too late. The damage is done. A tear traces a path down his cheek. His eye, once full of anger, brims with hurt. He takes a step back. "Broken," he whispers, the word echoing in the tense silence of the room. Plankton's body sags, his anger dissipating like a popped balloon, leaving only pain in its wake. His eye glisten with unshed tears.
Broken 2/2 (I’m a neurodivergent author) Plankton's body sags, anger dissipating. His eye glisten with tears. "Broken," he repeats, his voice barely a whisper, the word a knife to his soul. He shakes his head and turns, unable to face the person who so casually tossed it at him. "Plankton," Karen says, her voice strained, but he's already retreating. Shoulders hunched, Plankton turns and strides out of the room, footsteps heavy and deliberate. The door to the bedroom slams shut behind him, the echo of sobs resonating through. Sandy and Karen are left standing in the living room, the air thick with unspoken words and unshed tears. "I didn't mean it like, I cannot believe I just, I’m sorry," Sandy says, voice shaky. She looks at her friend, her eyes pleading for understanding. "I..." Karen's gaze is steely. "You need to understand," she says firmly, voice trembling with weight. "Plankton was born with a neurodivergent condition." Sandy's eyes widen. "What?" she whispers. Karen nods solemnly. "Plankton's mother was in a car accident when pregnant with him." Sandy's eyes widen in horror. "I had no idea," she whispers. Karen nods, her own eyes brimming with unshed tears. "After, doctors saw Plankton's brain developing differently," she explains, her voice tight with emotion. "He's incredibly sensitive to stimulation—sounds, lights; strong emotions, like just now, can overwhelm him." "That's why he gets these... episodes?" Sandy asks. Karen nods, voice barely above a whisper. "It caused damage to the part of his brain that processes stimuli during development," she explains. "It's like his brain's volume knob is stuck on high. Everything's just too much for him sometimes." Sandy's mind races. "So that's why..." "Yes," Karen says, voice heavy. "It's not something he can just turn off, or ignore." Sandy nods slowly, aching for her friend's husband. She had always known Plankton as a bit of an introvert, but never thought it was mostly because of something like this. Karen's sad, but firm. "It's not your fault for not knowing," she says. "But you have to be mindful." Sandy nods, throat tight. "I do," she whispers with regret. Together, they make their way to the bedroom, the game forgotten in the wake of Plankton's pain. Karen's hand is a gentle guide on Sandy's arm as they tiptoe, steeling herself for what might be on the other side. She opens it slowly, the hinges whispering in protest. The bedroom is dim, curtains drawn, and Plankton is there, lying on the bed, his eye closed. The anger and frustration that had etched lines into his face moments ago are now eased by sleep. His chest rises and falls with rhythm of breathing, the only sound in the room. Sandy feels a pang of guilt as she looks at him. She had never meant to cause pain, never intended to make life more difficult. She just wanted to bring a little joy, whimsy into their lives; instead, she had unleashed a storm. Karen's hand tightens around Sandy's arm, a silent reminder of the unspoken bond between them. "Let him rest," Karen murmurs. Sandy nods. "Give him space," Karen says gently. "He needs to recover." Sandy nods, gaze lingering on Plankton's face, features now in sleep. She feels a pang of guilt, knowing she was the cause of distress. They retreat to the living room. Karen sighs heavily, her eyes reflecting a mix of sadness and resignation. "Why didn't you tell?" Karen sighs. "It's not something we talk about," she says softly. "Plankton's been self-conscious about it." "I didn't mean to make things worse," Sandy says with remorse. "I know, yet you have to understand, Plankton's condition is part of him. It's not something that can be fixed with a band-aid; his brain damage is irreversible." "I'll talk to him when he wakes up," she says, her voice a mix of determination and sorrow. "I want to make it right." Karen squeezes her hand, offering a small smile. "Thank you," she whispers. "But let him come to you. He needs time." Sandy feels the weight of her mistake heavily. "Part of Plankton's condition includes mood swings," Karen explains softly. "When overstimulated, it's like a dam breaks. It just floods." Sandy's heart squeezes with understanding and regret. "I didn't know," she whispers, eyes filling with tears. "I never meant to—" "It's ok," Karen interrupts gently, her voice soothing. "But it's not just about the game. Plankton's condition makes it hard for him to handle sudden changes or unexpected situations." Sandy nods, the gravity of the situation settling in. "I didn't realize," she says, her voice thick with guilt. "I just..." Karen squeezes her hand. "It's alright," she says, her voice calm and soothing. "You couldn't have known. But now that you do, it's important to stay calm around him." Sandy nods, eyes wide with the realization. "How do I make sure not make things worse?" Karen looks at her with a mix of affection and weariness. "You just need to be patient and understanding," she says. "Let him know you're there for him, without pushing." Sandy nods. Finally, Plankton emerges from the bedroom, eye red-rimmed. He looks at them both, his gaze uncertain, and then to the game. Sandy's heart clenches as she watches him. Plankton's gaze lingers on the game for a moment before he looks at them, his expression unreadable. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ruin everything." Sandy's heart breaks at his words. "You didn't ruin," she says quickly, filled with compassion. "I should have been more considerate." Plankton looks at her, still guarded. "I just want to be normal but I just can't handle it, like you said I’m broken.." Sandy feels her heart ache at his words, the pain in his voice resonating deep within. She shakes her head, her own eyes now filled with tears. "You're not broken," she says fiercely. "You're just... different. And that's ok. I’m sorry." Karen moves to Plankton's side, wrapping her arms around him in a gentle embrace. "You are more than ok," she whispers. "You're perfect, just the way you are." Sandy watches them, feeling the depth. "I didn't mean it, Plankton," she says, her voice thick with emotion. "You're not broken, you're just... you. I know that now." Plankton nods, his mind a tumult of thoughts. "But it's hard to hear." "I'll be more careful," she promises, her voice sincere. "I don't want to make you feel like that again." "You didn't know," he says, his voice a bit softer now. "But it's important that you do now." "I do know," she says, her voice firm. "And I'll make sure to be more mindful." Karen squeezes Plankton's hand, filled with love and compassion. "We all have moments," she says gently. "What matters is we learn from them." Sandy nods, gaze never leaving Plankton's. "I will," she says solemnly. "I promise." Plankton's expression softens. "Thank you," he murmurs, the first signs of forgiveness seeping into his voice. Karen's gaze shifts to Sandy, filled with a gentle resolve. "Don't be afraid to ask, next time," she says, a quiet command. "Don't assume you know what he can handle. Just talk to us, and we can tell you." Sandy nods, feeling the weight of her friend's words. "I will," she says, voice a solemn promise. "I don't want to make him feel like that again." The three of them stand in the living room, the game pieces on the table a stark reminder of the chaos that had unfolded. Sandy takes a step closer to Plankton, her hand reaching out tentatively. He looks up at her, the anger and pain in his eye slowly being replaced with something resembling understanding. "I'm sorry," she whispers again, hand hovering in the air between them. "I'll do better." Karen nods with a mix of sadness and love. "We're all learning," she says, her voice a gentle reprimand. "But it's important that Plankton needs to be part of this conversation too." Sandy swallows hard, her hand dropping to her side. "I'm sorry," she says again, looking down at her feet. "I didn't mean to make it about me." Plankton nods slowly, eye still on the game board. "It's not," he says, quiet and measured. "It's about understanding limits." Sandy nods, eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I just want to make sure you know that I'm here for you, for both of you, any time." Karen gives her a sad smile, still on Plankton. "We know," she says softly. "But sometimes, the best thing you can do for Plankton is to just... let him be." Sandy nods. "I'll take it home," she says, her voice thick with regret. "I don't want it to be a reminder of what happened." Karen nods, her gaze never leaving Sandy's. "Thank you," she whispers. Sandy moves to the coffee table, her eyes on the game. She gathers the pieces, the bright colors seemingly dulled by the events of the evening. Each piece feels heavier than it should, as if carrying the weight of Plankton's pain. "I'll put it away," she says, her voice quiet and remorseful. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen." Plankton nods, his eye not leaving the game. "I know," he says, his voice still raw. "But you can play it with Karen on one of the Gal Pal nights out when I’m not around, like at your treedome." Sandy nods, her eyes brimming with tears as she scoops the last of the game into the box. She closes it with a soft click and looks up at Karen. "I'm sorry," she whispers again. "I'm just... I'm sorry." Karen sighs, her gaze filled with a mix of sadness and resignation. "We all make mistakes, Sandy," she says gently. "What's important is that we learn from them." Sandy nods, her eyes never leaving the game box. "I will," she whispers, her voice thick with regret. "I'll be more considerate next time." Karen's gaze softens, and she squeezes Sandy's hand. "Thank you," she murmurs. "It means a lot."
CHIP OFF THE OLD TALKS i (Autistic Author) Karen went to the park. Her husband, Plankton, sat by her. Karen glanced over and saw the soft smile on his face, a smile that had greeted her every morning for the past twenty-five or so years. The park was alive with laughter, the distant sound of a ball bouncing off the pavement and the occasional squawk from a seagull. Plankton's eye were closed, his breathing slow and steady. He was enjoying the warmth of the afternoon sun on his face. Suddenly, their adopted son Chip burst into their peaceful scene, his cheeks flushed from running. He was holding a frisbee that had strayed from its intended path, and he called out to them with the enthusiasm of a young boy who had discovered something wonderful. "Look what I found!" he exclaimed, oblivious to the delicate moment he was interrupting. Plankton jolts. Karen's notices her husband's sudden movement. His eye open wide, and he stares into the distance unseeing, unblinking. She knows the signs all too well. Plankton is having one of his shutdowns. But Chip's dart between the frisbee and his parents, sensing something amiss. "Dad?" Chip says, tentatively. Karen jumps up and grabs Plankton's arm, gently squeezing to bring him back. "It's ok, honey," she whispers, her voice steady. Chip's smile fades as he sees his father's unresponsive state. He drops the frisbee, forgotten in his grip, and takes a cautious step closer. "What's happening?" he asks, his voice cracking. Plankton's body remains eerily still, like a statue. The only indication that he's alive is the faint rise and fall of his chest as he breathes. Karen's eyes dart around the area, checking if anyone has noticed. She doesn't want to draw unwanted attention. "It's ok, Dad's just taking a little break," she murmurs, setting the frisbee aside. He's never seen these before, nor knows the drill. Chip takes in Plankton's unblinking gaze. Karen feels a pang of guilt for keeping this part of Plankton's condition hidden from their kid. But it's a dance they've been performing for years, trying to maintain a sense of normalcy amidst Plankton's condition. Karen focuses solely on Plankton, willing him to come back to her. She feels the warmth of his hand under hers, but there's no response, no squeeze, no recognition of her touch. Karen's gaze is fixed on her husband's face, searching for any hint of life, any flicker of consciousness. She whispers his name, a soft mantra, trying to anchor him to reality. But Chip doesn't understand. His eyes are wide, full of fear and confusion as he watches his dad frozen in place. "What's a 'little break'?" he asks, voice trembling. Karen's heart tightens; she's always shielded Chip, hoping to spare him the worry and fear. "It's like when you zone out," she explains gently, hoping to relate it to something he might have experienced. "Remember when you were playing video games and I had to call you for dinner three times before you heard me?" Chip nods slowly, still glued to Plankton's unmoving form. "It's like that," Karen continues, "But for Dad, it happens without warning." Chip nods again, trying to process this new information. He's always known his dad was different, but seeing him like this is something he's never had to face before. He takes a deep breath and tries to hold back his tears, not wanting to scare Plankton when he wakes up. "What do we do?" he whispers, his voice shaky. Karen squeezes Plankton's hand gently, never leaving his face. "Just wait," she instructs Chip calmly. "These usually don't last long. But if you need to, you can tell anyone who asks that he's okay, just deep in thought." Chip nods, trying to mimic his mother's calm demeanor, but his eyes betray his anxiety. He's never seen his dad like this, never knew that these moments of stillness were a part of him. Plankton's condition, a form of autism, can leave him with anger issues and overload. Karen feels the weight of the secret they've kept from Chip all these years. Plankton's autistic neurodivergence had always been a part of their lives, but they had shielded their son from the full extent of it. They had hoped he would understand when he was older, but now the moment had come unplanned, and she wasn't sure if ready. "Why does Dad zone out?" Chip asks, his voice small. Karen sighs, deciding it's time for the truth. She sits down next to Plankton, keeping her hand on his arm. "Dad has something called 'neurodivergence', Chip. It's like his brain works differently than ours. Sometimes it helps him see the world in amazing ways, but it can also be hard for him. These little breaks are his brain's way of processing." Chip stares at her, trying to grasp the concept. "So, he's not just ignoring us?" "No, sweetie," Karen says. "He's not ignoring us. It's like his brain needs a time-out, like when you play for to long and your phone heats up and/or dies, but will still work eventually." The wind picks up, rustling through the leaves above them, and a chill runs down Chip's spine. He nods slowly, watching his dad's chest rise and fall in the silence. It's strange to see someone so still, so quiet, yet so obviously alive. "But why haven't you told me before?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. Karen's eyes well up with tears she quickly blinks away. "We wanted to protect you," she admits. "I didn't want you to be scared and he doesn’t want you to think of him differently." "But it's okay to think differently," Chip argues, his voice growing stronger. "Dad's always been there for me, even if he doesn't hug me a lot." Karen smiles sadly, stroking Plankton's arm. "It's not just about thinking differently, Chip. It's about how his brain processes things. Sometimes, too much sensory input can overwhelm him. That's why he might seem distant or not as affectionate as other dads. It's not because he doesn't like you," she reassures him. "It's because hugging or loud noises can be really intense for him." Chip's eyes widen with understanding. "So, that's why he doesn't like it when I jump on him?" "Yes," Karen nods. "But it doesn't mean he loves you any less. He just shows it in his own way. Like when he spends hours helping you build that Lego castle, or when he makes those amazing sea creature sculptures that you love so much." Chip's shoulders slump, and he sits down on the bench beside his mother, staring at his dad with a newfound curiosity. "Does he know I know now?" "I don't think so, honey," Karen says, her voice still low and soothing. "These episodes usually last just a few minutes. It's like he's somewhere else, but he'll come back to us." The park's sounds swirl around them, muffled by the tension that has settled in the air. Karen watches Plankton's expression, waiting for the telltale twitch of his antennae that signals his return to the present. Finally, Plankton blinks and looks at Karen, his gaze momentarily unfocused before recognition floods back into his eye. He looks around, startled by his surroundings, and then at Chip, who is staring at him. "What happened?" Plankton asks, his voice groggy. Karen releases a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. "You had one of your zoning-out moments," she says, her voice calm and gentle. Plankton looks at her, then at Chip, who is watching him with a mix of curiosity and fear. "I did?" Plankton's antennae twitch, and he rubs his head. "Yes," Karen says, her hand still on his arm. "Chip found a frisbee, remember?" Plankton's gaze shifts to the frisbee lying forgotten on the ground, then back to his son. He nods slowly, piecing the moments before together. "Ah," he murmurs, a hint of embarrassment crossing his face. Chip's curiosity outweighs his fear as he looks at his father. "Can I ask?" he asks tentatively. Karen nods, her heart swelling with pride at his bravery. "Of course, Chip." Chip looks at his dad, filled with questions. "Why’d you zone out?" he asks, his voice still hushed. "It's none of your business Chip," Plankton snaps, his eye flashing with a sudden fury that takes both Karen and Chip aback. His voice is harsh, the words cutting through the stillness of the park. Karen's heart sinks as she sees the hurt on Chip's face. Plankton's anger, a common side effect of his overload, surfaces without warning. She knows he doesn't mean it, but the sting is real for their son.
General anesthesia: A patient who gets general anesthesia is completely unconscious (or "asleep"). They can’t feel any pain, are not aware of the surgery as it happens, and don’t remember anything from when they are “asleep.” General anesthesia involves using many medications to render you unconscious during a surgery. This makes you unaware of things that are happening. It is generally described as melting back into the bed and falling asleep. This means you will have no awareness of the procedure once the anesthesia takes effect, and you won't remember it after. Anesthetics activate memory-loss receptors in the brain, ensuring that patients don't remember. General anesthesia looks more like a coma—a reversible coma. You lose awareness and the ability to feel paın, form memories and move. Then they turn the anesthetics off and allow you to come to. You then begin to pass into a semi-conscious stage to become aware of what is going on. Typically, the period of time when you’re under general anesthesia is a blank. Many patients report that it is a surreal experience—and practically no one remembers anything between when the medication is administered and waking up in the recovery. For general anesthesia, someone may feel groggy and a little confused when waking up after surgery.
General anaesthetics can affect your memory, concentration and reflexes for a day or two, so it’s important for a responsible adult to stay with you for at least 24 hours after your operation, if you’re allowed to go home. Most people are awake in the recovery room immediately after an operation but remain groggy for a few hours after. You’ll probably feel groggy and a bit confused. You may continue to be sleepy, and your judgment and reflexes may take time to return to normal.
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 𝟓𝟕𝟎 “Plankton can you at least come out and do the dishes?” Karen says. Her husband Plankton has been working at his desk, trying to plan and scheme. She brought him his meals for the past two days. He stayed up all night! “Honey?” No response. So she decided to go check on him. She goes to peek through the door. Plankton sat at his desk, slumped over, fast asleep. She saw his head nodded to the side, resting on his arm. A soft snore echoed in the silence. She noticed he was drooling a bit from his open mouth onto a stack of crumpled papers. Karen approached him. "Plankton," she cooed, placing her hand on his shoulder. He didn't budge. Karen gently shook him, but his snores grew louder. “C’mon, sweetie, time to wake up.” She whispered, but his sleep was unyielding. With a gentle tug on the shoulder, she managed to pull his body upright, a line of drool still connecting his mouth to the paper. "Come on, Plankton," she said more firmly, this time her hand on his cheek, her thumb wiping away the drool, head lolling backward with a snort. “Plankton, darling, please come to bed. You have been working so hard. Let’s get some rest,” she urged with a smile. But Plankton was too deeply asleep to hear her soft voice. His eye remained closed. With a sigh, Karen decided to get him up out of this chair herself. She took his arm and began to lift his weight from the chair. Plankton's body resisted, his head falling to her side with a dull thud. Karen chuckled, his snoring now vibrating. She managed to get him out of the chair. "Just a few steps, love," she murmured, but Plankton's snores grew like a crescendo in an orchestra. His limp body leaned into her like a ragdoll with no bones. She hoists him up on her shoulder, his arm dangling loosely, his snores growing rhythmic like a lullaby in a cartoon. The room was a mess, papers scattered like tiny white waves across the ocean of their living room. She stepped over them carefully, not wanting to wake his slumbering form. His office chair screeched as she pushed it aside with her foot, the sound like nails on a chalkboard in the quiet of the night. Plankton's arm slid off Karen's shoulder. She giggled nervously, his snoring now a symphony of sounds. She readjusted her grip, his head lolling against her. "Almost there," she whispered, her cheeks flushed with a mix of love and exasperation. The bedroom door creaked open like the entrance to a secret passage. Plankton's snores were a gentle soundtrack to the silent dance of her struggle. The bed looked like a mountain from here. She took a deep breath, bracing herself for the climb. With his arm slung over her neck, his body limp, she began the ascent. Step by step, she inched closer. As she reached the bed, he slipped again, this time his head lolling back to hang over the edge of the mattress. “Oh no, you don’t!” she exclaimed, his weight making her stumble. With a laugh that was half exhaustion, half endearment, she tugged him up and laid him down gently. Karen watched his chest rise and fall in deep sleep. The room was dimly lit by the moon, his snores a soothing white noise in the quiet.
TRUTH AND NAIL i “Karen Plankton‽” Karen stood up as the receptionist at the dental office called her. She’s been in the waiting room as her husband Plankton’s in surgery. She followed the nurse into a brightly lit room where Plankton lay on his back, his mouth agape, snoring gently. The anesthetic had done its job, leaving him completely oblivious to the world around him. The surgeon looked up from his chair, a smile creasing his mask. "Mrs. Plankton, your husband's wisdom teeth extraction was a success," he said. "You can stay with him as he wakes up." Karen sat by his side, her hand resting gently on his arm. The steady hum of the machines filled the space, punctuated by occasional beeps. The nurse adjusted the IV, ensuring the flow of fluids remained steady. The doctor entered, nodded at Karen, and began to check the surgical sites, but he didn't wake up. The surgeon leaned over, his eyes studying the readouts with care. Satisfied, he turned to Karen, "He'll be coming around in time," he assured her. Her screen never left Plankton's peaceful face, his cheeks slightly puffy, his mouth slack and open. A trickle of drool slid from the corner of his mouth, and Karen couldn't help but chuckle softly, even in the tension of the moment. He'd never let her see him like this if he had a choice. The nurse offered a reassuring smile, "It's normal, dear. The anesthesia can do funny things. Just wait. He'll be back to his usual self by tomorrow." Karen nodded. She leaned in closer to Plankton, his normally stern face was relaxed in sleep, his brow unfurrowed. It was strange to see his sharp features softened, his expression one of peace. The nurse left them, and Karen took the chance to whisper, "You're going to be okay." The nurse had warned her about the disorientation that often came with waking up from surgery. Patients could be confused, even a little babyish, as the world swam back into focus. Some had a tendency to say things they didn't mean or remember later. So, when Plankton's eye flickered open, Karen was ready. "Wha... where am I?" he mumbled, his voice slurred and eye glassy. Karen took his hand, squeezing it gently. "You're in the recovery room, sweetie. You had your wisdom teeth out." The words seemed to float around him, like bubbles in his befuddled brain. "Wisdom teed?" he muttered, blinking slowly. "Wha awe those?" Karen stifled a laugh, her emotions swelling with love and concern. "They're teeth, darling. Don't worry, you won't miss them." Plankton's gaze drifted around the room, taking in the sterile whiteness and the blinking lights above him. "Teef?" he slurred, his mind still groggy. "Wheh take out teef?" Karen gently stroked his hand. "Just the wisdom ones, sweetheart," she whispered, her voice soothing as a lullaby. "They were causing you trouble." "Trubble?" Plankton repeated, his speech slurring more with each syllable. His eye closed again, lid heavy with sleep. "I know it's confusing right now, but you'll understand soon," Karen said, her voice steady and calm. Plankton's eye opened again, a bit wider this time, and he squinted at the light. "M'th... m'th... my mouf feels..." He tried to form the words, but his tongue felt thick and clumsy. "It's normal, darling," Karen said, her voice like a gentle breeze. "The anesthesia can make your mouth feel funny." Plankton's eye drifted to the ceiling, his thoughts racing but his words failing to keep up. "Bright wight," he murmured, his voice distant and lost. "It's okay," Karen said, wiping the drool from his chin with a tissue. "The lights are just to help you wake up." "Wake up?" Plankton repeated, his eye trying to focus on her screen. "Wha happened?" "You had a little surgery," Karen said, her voice soothing and calm. "They took out your wisdom teeth. Remember?" Plankton's eye searched hers, confusion and fear swirling in his gaze. "Sur...surgery?" he managed to say, his voice weak and unsure. "Why?" "Don't worry," Karen soothed, her voice a soft caress. "It was just a little thing. They took out some teeth that were causing you pain." Plankton's eyelid flitted, trying to make sense of the words. "Teef? Pain?" he slurred, his hand reaching up to probe his mouth. "No, no, don't touch," Karen hurried to stop him, her grip firm but gentle. "They're still a bit tender." Plankton's hand fell back to the bed, his mind racing but his body slow to respond. "Tends?" he murmured, the word strange and foreign. "Every ting sho..." His thoughts trailed off, the word "different" eluding him. Karen watched him, her smile a blend of amusement and tenderness. "You're going to be okay," she repeated, her voice a constant in the sea of confusion. "You're just a little out of it." "Ooot of it," Plankton echoed, his voice a faint rumble. He tried to sit up, but the nurse had warned Karen about this too. The sudden movement made him dizzy, and she placed a hand on his shoulder, gently pushing him back down. "Take it easy, sweetie," she cooed. His eye searched hers, like a child lost in a supermarket. "Karen?" he murmured, her name sounding like a question. "I'm here," she assured him, squeezing his hand. "You're in the hospital, Plankton. You're okay." "Hospit...hospit...tal?" he slurred, his eye darting around the room again. "Why?" "You had wisdom teeth, Plankton," Karen said, her tone as soothing as a mother's. "Remember?" "Wis...dome tweed?" Plankton slurred, his mind spinning, his thoughts muddled and slow to form. "Ow?" Karen chuckled gently, her screen sparkling with humor. "It's all right, dear," she cooed. "They just removed your wisdom teeth. You're feeling a bit loopy." Plankton's eyebrow knit trying to piece together the puzzle. "Widom...teef?" he repeated, his voice still slurred but with a hint of recognition. "Yes, sweetie," Karen said, smiling down at him. "You had your wisdom teeth removed. You're going to be fine." Plankton's hand wobbled in the air before it fell to his side, his mind a swirl of fog. "Where...where am I?" his voice was a faint murmur, his eye glazed over. "You're in the hospital," Karen said, her voice steady as a lighthouse beam. "You had surgery, darling. Remember?" Plankton's eye fluttered closed, his head rolling to the side as if the weight of the world was too much. "Sur...gury?" he slurred, the syllables like molasses on his tongue. "Yes, Plankton," Karen said, her voice a lullaby in the stark room. "It's all over. You're safe now." He mumbled incoherently, his words a jumble of letters and sounds that barely formed coherent thoughts. "Wh...wha...was it?" his mind grasped for understanding, his eye half-closed and unfocused. Karen leaned in closer, her voice a lifeline in his foggy sea of confusion. "It was just a surgery, Plankton. To remove your wisdom teeth." "Wis...wis...dome...teef?" he murmured, the words still strange in his mouth. He blinked slowly, trying to recall why he was here. Karen nodded, her smile reassuring. "Yes, they took them out. You're all done." Plankton's eye rolled back in his head, his body going slack again. "Tek...tum...out?" he mumbled, his mind still swimming in the murky waters of unconsciousness. Karen nodded, her hand still on his arm. "They're gone, sweetie. You're okay." But he’s fallen asleep again, his snores filling the silent room, his chest rising and falling with each gentle breath. Karen watched him, her love squeezing with a mix of amusement and concern.
PATRICK PLANKTON 1/4 (NEURODIVERGENT AUTHOR) Patrick went in the Chum Bucket where Plankton lives with Karen. "Welcome to the Chum Bucket Patrick," Karen called out. Patrick waved back, eyes lighting up at the sight of the various contraptions and inventions that lined the walls. He always found Plankton's fascinating, a stark contrast to the bright and bustling SpongeBob's pineapple house. The Chum Bucket was like a treasure trove of mysteries waiting to be uncovered, and Patrick loved a good mystery. He wandered further into the lab, his footsteps echoing off the metal floors, each step revealing more of Plankton's ingenious creations. Suddenly he spotted a tiny figure hunched over a book on a couch. It was Plankton, his single eyeball glued to the pages, oblivious to the world around him. The book's title, "101 Ways to Steal the Krabby Patty Secret Formula," was barely visible under a thick layer of dust. "Hey, Plankton!" Patrick bellowed, his voice booming like a foghorn in the small, cluttered space. The sudden noise caused Plankton to jump, sending his book flying into the air. "What are you reading?" Karen, who had been quietly watching the scene unfold from her desk, couldn't help but notice that Plankton had not moved a muscle since the book flew from his grasp. His body remained rigid, his eyeball unblinking. Concern crept into her voice as she called out to him, "Plankton, are you ok?" The tiny villain didn't respond, his expression frozen in a silent scream. Patrick looked around, puzzled. "Is he playing a game?" he asked, his tone hinting at the innocent curiosity that often got him into trouble. Karen recognized immediately went to the couch and sat by Plankton, Patrick not knowing what's happening. Karen's gaze fell upon Plankton's unblinking eye and she knew instantly what was wrong. He was in a state of sensory overload. She had seen it happen before, though Patrick hasn't. She gently touched his shoulder, trying to coax him back to reality. "Plankton, sweetiep," she cooed. Patrick's puzzled expression grew more concerned as he took in Plankton's unresponsive state. "What happened to him, Karen?" he asked, his voice quieter now, a hint of worry in his tone. "It's his sensory shutdown, Patrick," Karen explained softly, stroking Plankton's arm gently. "It's like his brain got too full of thoughts and had to take a little break. It's ok, he'll be fine." She knew this was something he'd have to come out of on his own. She had been there for him countless times before, each instance more terrifying than the last, but she had learned patience was key. Patrick, still not fully grasping the situation, knelt beside the couch. He leaned in closer to Plankton nearly touching the little plankton's face. "Hey buddy you ok?" he asked, his voice now a gentle whisper. Karen put a hand on Patrick's arm, gently guiding him back. "Just give him some space, Patrick," she instructed. "He'll come around. This happens when he's really stressed or overwhelmed." Patrick nodded slowly, his eyes still glued to his friend. He didn't fully understand, but he knew that Karen knew what she was talking about. He stepped back, allowing Karen to continue her soothing whispers to Plankton. The room grew quiet, save for the rhythmic ticking of a clock that had long ago lost track of time and the soft hum of machines in the background. The tension in the air was palpable, as if it too was holding its breath, waiting for Plankton to snap out of his frozen state. "You can do it, Plankton," she encouraged. "Just breathe." Plankton's body slowly relaxed, and his eye blinked, finally coming back into focus. He looked around, bewildered, as if he had just woken from a particularly vivid nightmare. "Karen?" he croaked, his voice weak and trembling. "I'm here, Plankton," she said, her hand still resting on his arm. "You had another shutdown, but it's over now." His eye narrowed on Patrick, who was now standing awkwardly by the couch. "What?" Plankton snapped. Patrick's eyes widened. "I-I just want to see what was wrong," he stuttered. "Well, nothing's wrong with me!" Plankton spat pushing himself up from the couch. "But you were just..." Patrick started to protest. "I said there's nothing wrong!" Patrick took a step back. "But..." "Just leave me alone!" Plankton shouted, echoing off the cold metal walls. Patrick's smile faded, and he looked down. He hadn't meant to upset his friend, but he couldn't help but feel confused and hurt by Plankton's sudden outburst. "I-I'm sorry, Plankton," he murmured. "I didn't mean to... I just..." "You just what?" Plankton cut him off, antennae quivering with irritation. "You just don't know to mind your business do you?" "But I just..." "I said leave me alone!" Plankton barked again, his tiny frame shaking with anger. Patrick took another step back, his eyes brimming with confusion. "Plankton..." "What part of 'leave me alone' don't you understand?" Plankton retorted. Patrick's eyes searched the room, desperate to find something to say or do that would fix the situation. The air grew thick with the tension of Plankton's frustration and Patrick's fear of losing a friendship he had worked hard to maintain despite their many differences. "I just..." he began again, his voice trailing off as he tried to find the right words. "What is it?" Plankton snarled, impatience growing with each passing second. Patrick took a deep breath, trying to compose his thoughts. "I just wanted to make sure you were ok because I don't know what's wrong with you," he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "Wrong with me?" Plankton's voice grew louder, his tiny fists clenching at his sides. "You think there's something wrong with me?!" Patrick took another step back, his eyes never leaving Plankton's furious gaze. "Well, you know you were just sitting there, not moving..." "It's none of your business!" Plankton yelled, his antennae quivering with rage. "What's it to you anyway?" Karen, who had been watching the exchange with a growing sense of unease, knew that she had to intervene. She could see the hurt in Patrick's eyes and the turmoil within Plankton's, and she knew that their friendship was hanging by a thread. Carefully, she stood up from her chair and approached the two, her movements deliberate and calming. "Plankton, honey, let's not get too worked up," she said placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Patrick didn't mean any harm. He's just worried about you." Patrick nodded emphatically, his hands raised in a gesture of peace. "Yeah, buddy, I just want to help." But Plankton's anger didn't subside. "You don't get it do you? I don't need your help, or your pity. I just want you to leave me alone!" Karen's gaze softened as she looked at her husband. "Patrick, I know you mean well, but sometimes Plankton needs his space." Patrick's eyes darted from Karen to Plankton, his confusion now mixed with a hint of sadness. "But, I thought..." Karen stepped between them, her eyes filled with understanding. "Patrick, sometimes Plankton just needs a moment." She turned to Plankton, her voice firm but gentle. "And Plankton, you know Patrick only wants to be there for you." Plankton's eye narrowed, but he didn't argue. He just nodded curtly, embracing her hand. "Ok," Patrick murmured, his voice heavy with disappointment. "Look, Patrick," Karen said, her voice measured and soothing, "Plankton's got a condition." Karen turns to Plankton as Patrick comes back by them. "Plankton, may you explain to Patrick?" Plankton let out a heavy sigh, his tiny shoulders rising and falling dramatically. Patrick's expression grew more concerned, his pink star-shaped body inching closer to the couple. "Plankton, don't be scared.." "I'm not scared!" Plankton barked, his antennae shooting straight up. "I just don't need you poking in to my business!" Patrick's eyes grew wide, and he took a tentative step back. "But..." "But nothing!" Plankton spat, curling inward to Karen. "I don't need your help, I don't need your pity, and I certainly don't need you treating me like some sort of lab experiment!" Ignoring the barb, Patrick took a step closer, his tentacles reaching out to pat Plankton's shoulder. It was a gesture of comfort he'd seen SpongeBob use countless times, and it had always worked to soothe his frayed nerves. But as soon as his hand made contact, Plankton flinched violently, as if he'd been scalded. "Don't touch me!" he yelled, shoving Patrick's hand away. Patrick's eyes went wide, and he took a hasty step back, his tentacles retreating into his body. "I'm sorry, Plankton," he stammered, his voice full of genuine remorse. "I didn't mean to..."
PATRICK PLANKTON 2/4 (NEURODIVERGENT AUTHOR) Yet Plankton was beyond listening. He was in the throes of a full-blown meltdown, his body quaking with anger and fear. His usually tiny form looked monstrous in the dim light of the lab, his eye wild and his antennae twitching erratically. Plankton's shaking grew more intense, his tiny body trembling. His eye darted around the room, looking everywhere except at the starfish who had just tried to offer him comfort. Karen's heart ached as she watched her husband's silent panic attack unfold. She knew the signs all too well. The erratic antennae movements, the clenched fists, the sudden need for personal space - it was all part of his condition. Plankton had always been so private about it, but she had hoped that with time and trust, he'd learn to open up. Patrick, however, remained oblivious to the gravity of the situation. He had never seen his friend this way, and the fear in Plankton's usually beady eye was more than he could bear. "What's happening to him?" he whispered to Karen, his voice shaking. Karen took a deep breath, her eyes never leaving Plankton's trembling form. "It's his condition," she said softly. "He gets like this when he's really overwhelmed. He needs us to be calm for him." Patrick looked from Karen to Plankton. He didn't know what to do, but he knew that he couldn't just stand there. Carefully, he reached out a tentacle and wrapped it around Plankton, pulling him into a gentle embrace. "It's okay, buddy," he murmured. "You don't have to be scared." But Plankton's panic only seemed to worsen. His tremors grew more pronounced, his tiny body convulsing in Patrick's arms. Karen's eyes grew wide with alarm, and she rushed over to her husband's side. "Patrick, let go!" she urged, her voice firm but filled with urgency. "You're making it worse!" Patrick's eyes grew wide, and he released Plankton as if he'd been holding a live wire. The tiny plankton crumpled to the floor, his body going limp. "Plankton?" Karen gasped, dropping to her knees beside him. She checked his antennae for a pulse, her face a mask of panic. "Plankton, can you hear me?" There was no response. His single eye had rolled back into his head, and his antennae had gone still. Panic gripped Karen and Patrick. "What's happening?" Patrick's voice was barely a whisper. Karen's filled with a mix of fear and determination as she checked Plankton's pulse again. "It's a severe episode," she said, her voice tight with concern. "He needs to calm down, and fast." Patrick hovered over them, his heart racing in his chest. "What..." "He's passed out," Karen said, her voice tight with worry. "We need to get him to his bed." Patrick's eyes grew rounder, and he nodded frantically. "Okay okay," he murmured, reaching down to help Karen lift Plankton's unconscious body. Together, they carefully carried him to the bed. Karen laid Plankton on the bed and began to check his vitals, scanning his tiny form with a medical precision that belied her usual robotic demeanor. "His pulse is steady." Patrick hovered at the edge of the room, his heart racing. "What can I do?" he asked, his voice quivering. "Just stay here," Karen instructed, her focus solely on Plankton. "And keep talking to him. Sometimes hearing a familiar voice helps." Patrick nodded, his tentacles clutching at the edge of the bed. "Plankton?" he called out softly, his voice filled with a mix of fear and concern. "Buddy, can you hear me?" There was no response. Plankton's tiny body remained still and lifeless, his antennae drooping like wet noodles. Patrick felt his own body go cold with fear. He'd never seen anyone faint before, let alone a friend. He didn't know what to do, so he just talked hoping his voice could reach Plankton through the fog of unconsciousness. "Hey, Plankton," he said softly, "Just rest up, buddy." Karen looked up from her ministrations, her expression grim. "Patrick," she began, voice low and serious, "you need to know something about Plankton." Patrick leaned in, his worry for his friend clear on his face. "What is it?" he whispered. "It's his brain," Karen said, her voice tight. "Plankton has a traumatic injury." She paused, her gaze never leaving Plankton's still form. "It's from an accident a long time ago, before I was even built.." Patrick's eyes grew wide with shock. "What kind of accident?" Karen took a deep breath, her eyes never leaving Plankton. "It was a... a car accident," she said finally, her voice thick with unshed emotion. "A runaway boat hit him, actually." Patrick's tentacles drooped in horror. "Oh no!" he gasped. "Is that why he gets like this?" "Yes," Karen nodded solemnly. "The injury causes him to have these episodes when he gets too stressed or overwhelmed. It's why he's so obsessed with the Krabby Patty formula. The pursuit of something so constant and unchanging helps him cope with the chaos in his head." Patrick's eyes widened. "But why didn't he tell me?" he murmured. "Because he's ashamed," Karen said softly. "He thinks it makes him weak. But it's just a part of who he is." Patrick looked at her, his eyes filled with sadness. "But he's not weak," he said firmly. "He's the smartest person I know." "Patrick," Karen said, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, "his mind is brilliant, yes. But he's also fragile, in ways you can't even imagine." Patrick nodded, his eyes never leaving Plankton's pale face. "I won't tell anyone," he promised, his voice barely above a whisper. Suddenly, Plankton's antennae twitched. A soft groan escaped his mouth and his eye fluttered open. He looked around the room, blinking in confusion. "Plankton?" Karen's voice was a whisper, filled with hope. The tiny plankton's antennae twitched slightly, and his eye blinked open focusing with difficulty on the concerned faces hovering over him. The room was spinning, a kaleidoscope of colors and shapes that made him nauseous. He groaned and tried to sit up, but his body felt like it was made of jelly. "Take it easy," Karen soothed, gently pushing him back down. "You've had a rough time." Plankton's eye focused on Patrick, who was still standing by the bedside looking as though he'd just seen a ghost. "What's he doing here?" he croaked. "You fainted," Karen said gently. "Patrick was just trying to help." Plankton's eye darted around the room, trying to piece together the puzzle of what had happened. The last thing he remembered was reading, then Patrick yelling, then Patrick's overwhelming embrace... A chilling sensation washed over him, a sense of déjà vu so strong it was almost tangible. He looked at Patrick, who was hovering over him like a giant, concerned balloon, and suddenly it clicked. "I remember now," Plankton murmured, his voice still shaky. "You tried to... hug me." He cringed at the thought, his antennae curling inward. "Don't ever do that again.." Patrick looked down at his tentacles, which had instinctively reached out during Plankton's episode. He pulled back. "Sorry, buddy," he mumbled. "I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable." Karen's gaze softened. "It's okay, Patrick. You couldn't have known." She turned her attention back to Plankton searching his for any signs of further distress. "How are you feeling, Plankton?" He swallowed hard, his throat dry. "T-terrible," he rasped. "But I'll be fine." His voice was laced with the stubbornness that Patrick had come to expect from him. Plankton pushed himself into a sitting position, his antennae still trembling slightly. Karen's gaze remained on him. "You sure?" she asked, voice a gentle murmur. Plankton nodded, his antennae quivering slightly as he tried to stand. His legs wobbled beneath him, and he had to grab the bedframe to steady himself. "Just... need a moment," he murmured, his voice shaking as much as his body. Patrick watched with a heavy heart as his friend struggled to regain his composure. He knew that Plankton was trying to put on a brave face, but the fear in his eye was unmistakable.
GO HONE 1/2 Karen sat in the chair next to the bed. Plankton lay there, snoring softly. They'd just finished removing his wisdom teeth. Karen rarely sees him asleep. He was a light sleeper, always had been. But here he was, mouth agape, drool pooling onto the pristine pillowcase. The nurse had said the anesthesia would wear off soon. She felt a strange mix of pity and amusement. Karen reached out to stroke his forehead. "Plankton?" Her voice was gentle, soothing. He didn't respond. His eye remained shut, but she noticed the faintest twitch of his antenna. A moment later, his eye fluttered open, unfocused. "Wheh...am I?" he mumbled, his voice slurred by the lingering effects of the drugs and numb mouth. "Karen?" "You're in the recovery room, sweetie," Karen whispered. "You just got your wisdom teeth out." The nurse walked in. "How we feeling?" Plankton looked around, his gaze unfocused, as if he wasn't quite sure where to land. "I don't know," he said, voice still thick. "Everything ish tho...big?" The nurse chuckled. "That's the anesthesia. It'll wear off in a bit. Can you tell me your name?" Plankton blinked a few times, trying to get his bearings. "Pwankton," he managed, sounding like a toddler with a mouthful of marshmallows. Karen pressed her lips together to hold back a laugh. She felt a tug at her heart, seeing this tough, competent man reduced to such a helpless state. He attempted to sit up, but his body didn't cooperate, flopping back down onto the pillows. "Whoa, wath happening?" he slurred, his eye searching the room as if looking for something familiar. His limbs felt like spaghetti noodles, and his brain was stuck in slow motion. Karen helped him adjust, pillows plumping around his head. She couldn't help but chuckle at his drunken antics. The nurse took his pulse and checked the monitors. "Everything looks good," she said. "Just rest a bit longer." "Oh boy," he muttered, a goofy smile spreading across his face. "Wook at aww tha little fishies!" Plankton's mind was clearly somewhere else entirely. Karen looked around the recovery room, but all she could see were the regular, sterile equipment and a few other patients, not a fish in sight. She couldn't help but let out a small laugh at his silliness. "You're okay," she assured him, patting his hand. "Just the meds talking." Plankton's eye grew even wider, his smile turning into a grin. "Can I pway with dem?" he asked, reaching out a shaky arm to grab at the invisible fish. The nurse looked at Karen with a knowing smile. "It's a common side effect," she assured her. "The drugs can make patients feel pretty loopy." Plankton's giggle grew louder as he continued to "catch" the nonexistent fish. His movements were clumsy, like a baby learning to use their hands for the first time. Karen watched, her heart swelling with a sudden fondness for his innocent charm. "Wook, Karen! I got one!" He held up a finger, waggling it in the air between them. "It's tho tiny!" His eye squinted as he tried to focus on his own digit, then opened wide in amazement. "And it's on my han!" He was utterly captivated by his own hand, turning it this way and that, studying it like a new discovery. Karen couldn't help but smile at his antics. "That's right, Plankton. That's your finger," she said, her voice filled with amusement. "You're doing great." The nurse took a step back, allowing Karen to interact more freely with her husband. "You can talk to him, just keep it calm and don't let him move too much," she said before checking on the other patients. Plankton's gaze followed the nurse, his eye glazed over with wonder. "Wheh's she go?" he asked, his voice innocently curious. Karen leaned in closer, her hand still in his. "She's just checking on the other people who are feeling a bit sleepy like you." He nodded solemnly, his antennas flopping to the side with the motion. "Okay, Karen," he said, as if she had explained the secrets of the universe to him. The room started to spin gently, and he giggled. "I fink I'm on a merry-go-round!" Karen's smile grew, warming the coolness of the recovery room. "No, honey, you're just a bit woozy from the surgery. You need to lie still." Plankton nodded, his grin never leaving his face. "Otay," he mumbled, his eye crossing as he tried to focus on Karen's face. "Buh ith fun!" Karen couldn't resist the urge to lean in and kiss his forehead. "You're so adorable when you're loopy," she said, her voice filled with affection. Plankton's grin grew even wider, his cheeks flushing slightly from the attention. He closed his eye and leaned into the kiss like a child seeking comfort. "Karen," he said, his voice a slurred whisper, "youw my besht fren." The tenderness in his words made her heart melt. "Always, Plankton," she said, her thumb gently brushing his palm. "Always." He sighed contentedly, his giggle subsiding into a gentle snore. His hand fell limp beside him, his fingers still slightly curled as if holding onto the invisible fish. Karen smiled, catching him. His eye fluttered open again, rousing with a snort. "Whath...?" Plankton mumbled, his gaze floating around the room. He squinted at Karen, his vision blurred. "You're okay," Karen soothed, her voice like a lullaby in the stillness of the room. "You're just coming out of the anesthesia." Plankton blinked slowly, his pupil expanding to take in the soft lights and the unfamiliar surroundings. He tried to speak, but his words came out as mumbles and squeaks. "Wha...?" Karen's screen twinkled with affection as she spoke gently, "You're in the recovery room, sweetie. You're okay." Plankton's mind was still swimming in a sea of confusion. "Buth...buth...my teef?" he managed to ask. "They're out, don't worry," Karen assured him, her laughter barely contained. "The dentist took them out." Plankton looked at her with a mix of relief and silly curiosity. "The dentish?" he asked, his voice childlike. "Wheh did the put dem?" Karen nodded, trying not to laugh. "They're gone, gotten rid of." Plankton's face scrunched up like a little kid's, trying to understand. "Buth I can't feel dem," he whined, his hand gently probing his swollen cheek. "Awe youw shure?" Karen nodded, her smile never wavering. "They're gone, I promise. You'll have to be careful with soft food for a few days." Plankton's eye lit up like a child at the mention of a treat. "Soft food? Wike ice cweam?" Karen nodded, her laughter bubbling to the surface. "Yes, like ice cream. But remember, no chewing." Plankton's face fell. "Oh, no chewing?" he asked, his voice dropping to a disappointed whine. Karen nodded firmly, trying not to laugh at his sulky pout. "No chewing," she said, her voice conciliatory. "But we can have ice cream when we get home." Plankton's expression shifted immediately, his eye sparkling with anticipation. "Wight, wight," he said, his speech slowly becoming clearer. "Ice cweam ith okay?" "Yes, ice cream is okay," Karen said, her voice steady and warm. "But we'll have to wait until we get home." Plankton's eye grew large with excitement. "Hone?" he asked, as if the word had just entered his vocabulary. "Whewe hone?" Karen nodded, keeping her tone calm. "Yes, we're going home soon." Plankton's mouth twitched into a smile. "Whewe?" he asked again, his voice rising with excitement. Karen couldn't help but laugh at his enthusiasm. "Soon, Plankton. You just need to stay awake long enough for the nurse to say you're ready." His face fell a little, but then he perked up. "Candoit!" he exclaimed, his words slurred together. He sat up. "I'm awake!" Karen had to hold back her laughter as he swayed like a ragdoll before flopping back onto the bed. "Not quite yet, Plankton," she said, patting his shoulder.
GO HONE 2/2 The nurse returned, seeing his renewed energy. "Looks like you're feeling better," she said with a smile. "But let's not rush things." Plankton nodded eagerly, his antennas bobbing. "Yeth, yeth, I'm weady!" He tried to sit up again, his body still wobbly. The nurse helped him, adjusting his pillows. "Let's see if you can stay awake for a few more minutes," she said. He looked at her with determined innocence, like a child promising not to eat cookies before dinner. "I'm weally weally weady," he insisted, his words still thick. Karen couldn't help but chuckle, watching him fight the sleepiness. "Good," the nurse said. "Keep talking to your wife, that'll help keep you alert." Plankton's eye lit up with a childlike excitement. "Ish fun to tawk to you, Karen," he said, his words still slurred. "Youw make me happy." Karen felt her heart swell. "And you make me happy," she said, her voice sincere despite his loopy state. "Even when you're being a goofball." Plankton's smile grew, his eye still half-lidded. "Goof...ball?" he repeated, the words sounding strange in his mouth. He giggled again, his body swaying slightly with the effort of staying upright. "Ish fun to be a goofball." Karen couldn't resist smiling back, his silliness was infectious. "Yes, it is," she said. "But you need to stay awake for a little longer." Plankton nodded, his head bobbing slightly. "Otay, Karen," he said, his voice still thick. He then saw the nurse. "Who's dat?" he whispered, his eye wide with curiosity. Karen chuckled softly. "That's the nurse, Plankton. Remember?" He blinked a few times, his antennas perking up as his eyes focused on the kind-faced woman. "Oh, yeah. Tha nurse lady," he slurred, his voice full of sudden realization. "Hi!" The nurse chuckled. "Hello, Mr. Plankton. You're doing great." Plankton's smile grew even wider, his cheeks flushing with pleasure. "Ish nice to meechu," he said, sleepily. "I wike youw hat.." The nurse couldn't help but laugh. "Thank you, Mr. Plankton. It's nice to meet you too." Plankton's eye began to droop again, and Karen could see the sleep trying to pull him under. "Wakey wakey, Plankton," she said, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "You have to stay with me." He nodded, his head lolling to the side before snapping back up with a jerk. "Ish okay, Karen," he whispered, his voice still slurred. "Ish okay." But his eyelid grew heavy, and his words trailed off. "Ish just...tho tiwed," he mumbled. Karen's chuckle was gentle, not wanting to disturb his attempts to stay alert. "I know, sweetie," she said, stroking his hand. "Just a few more minutes." But Plankton's eyelid was like a heavy curtain, despite his best efforts. "Whe...whe...why am I so tiwed?" he slurred, his head lolling to the side like a ragdoll's. Karen knew he wasn't going to last much longer. His hand slipped out of hers, and he began to snore softly again. Karen looked over at the nurse, who nodded in understanding. "It's normal," the nurse said. "The anesthesia can make people pretty loopy for a while." Plankton's snores grew softer, his body relaxing. Karen watched him, her expression a mix of amusement and concern. "How much longer?" she asked the nurse. "Just a little longer," the nurse said, checking his vitals again. "The effects should start to wear off soon." Plankton's snores grew softer, and then he was awake again, looking around the room with wide- eyed wonder, drool trailing from the corner of his mouth. "Whe...where...?" His voice was a sleepy whisper. "You're still in the recovery room," Karen soothed, wiping his chin with a tissue. "You fell asleep again." Plankton looked up at her, his eye wide and innocent. "Did I miss sumfing?" he asked, his voice still thick with slumber. "No, sweetie," Karen replied, her voice soothing. "You just fell asleep for a bit. You're still waking up." Plankton's antennas perked up, and he sat up. "But...but I hav ice cweam?" His eye were wide with hopeful inquiry. Karen nodded with a smile, wiping the remaining drool from his mouth. "Yes, when we get home, remember?" Plankton's grin was infectious. "Yay!" he cheered, clapping his hands together with a slightly awkward smack. Karen couldn't help but chuckle at his reaction, his childlike enthusiasm was adorable. "Looks like you're feeling better," she said, her voice filled with affection. But Plankton was already off on another tangent, his gaze wandering to the ceiling. "Whewe awe the fishies?" he asked, his voice a sleepy whisper. Karen followed his gaze, seeing the plain, white ceiling tiles. "The fishies are in your imagination, Plankton," she said, her tone gentle. He pouted, his disappointment palpable. "Oh," he murmured, his head lolling to the side. Karen chuckled, her hand still on his arm. "They'll be there when you're all better," she assured him. "But for now, let's just stay here." The nurse smiled. "Looks like our patient is feeling better," she said with a smile. "Almost ready to go home?" Plankton nodded vigorously, his antennas flopping with the motion. "Hone, yesh! Ice cweam!" His eye closed again, and he snored lightly. Karen chuckled. His excitement was adorable, even if it was short-lived. The nurse checked his vital signs. "Looks like the anesthesia's wearing off," she said with a smile. "We can get you ready to go home soon." Plankton's eyelid fluttered open. "Hone?" he asked, his voice hopeful. "Almost," Karen said, her voice calm and soothing. "Just a few more minutes." Plankton's eye closed again, his breaths deepening into sleep. His head lolled to the side, his antennas drooping. Karen watched him with love. Even in his most vulnerable state, his antics brought a warmth to the room. The nurse returned and began to prepare the discharge papers. "Almost there," she said with a wink at Karen. "He'll be right as rain in no time." Plankton stirred again, his eye half-opening to a squint. "Whe...where's my ice cweam?" he mumbled, his voice slurred with sleep. Karen chuckled. "Not until we get home, remember?" Plankton's head nodded, his antennas bobbing. "Oh yeah," he mumbled, his voice dreamily content. The nurse finished up the paperwork and turned to Karen. "We're all set. Just make sure he gets plenty of rest and eats soft foods for the next few days." Plankton's eye shot open, his antennas springing to attention. "Ice cweam?" he asked, his voice hopeful. Karen laughed, shaking her head. "When we get home, remember?" He pouted, his lower lip sticking out like a sulky child's. "But I'm so tiwed," he whined. "Tiwed of being tiwed." Karen couldn't help but smile at his usual stubbornness. "You just had surgery," she reminded him gently. "Your body needs to recover." Plankton's eye grew large, and he nodded slowly. "Oh yeah," he said, his voice trailing off. "But...but I wan' ice cweam..." He faltered as Karen holds him up. The nurse chuckled and handed Karen the papers. "It's all normal, he's just loopy from the meds. He'll be fine once he's home." Karen nodded, her expression a mix of concern and affection. Plankton's head lolled back onto her shoulder, his eye drooping again. "Ice...cweam?" he mumbled. "As soon as we get home, I promise," she whispered. His body relaxed into her, his breathing evening out into a gentle snore. The nurse helped Karen maneuver the sleeping Plankton into a wheelchair, his legs still not fully cooperating. "Just a precaution," she said with a wink. "Better safe than sorry." The cool air of the hallway hit him like a wave, and Plankton's eye popped open. "Whe...?" he mumbled, looking around confused. "It's okay, we're going home," Karen said, pushing the wheelchair through the hospital's sliding doors. The sun was shining, and the brightness made him blink. Plankton squinted, his eye trying to adjust to the light. "Home?" he asked, his voice still thick with sleep. "Ice cweam?" Karen chuckled, nodding. "Yes, home. And yes, ice cream." She pushed him out into the parking lot, the sun glinting off the cars. Plankton was still groggy, his antennas waving slightly as if trying to keep time with his thoughts. The ride home was quiet, Plankton's snores punctuating the gentle hum of the engine. Karen couldn't help but glance over at him, his mouth slightly open, his face peaceful in sleep. She felt a wave of tenderness wash over her. When they finally pulled up to their house, the sight of their familiar surroundings seemed to revive Plankton. "Whe...we're hone?" he asked, his voice groggy. Karen nodded. "Yes, we're home," she said, her tone filled with relief. "Time for that ice cream."
COMPUTER SENSORS v ** ᴬˢ ᵃ ⁿᵉᵘʳᵒᵈⁱᵛᵉʳᵍᵉⁿᵗ ʷʳⁱᵗᵉʳ ᴵ ᵈᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵐᵉᵃⁿ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗⁱᵍᵐᵃᵗⁱᶻᵉ ᵃⁿʸ ᵗʸᵖᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵈⁱˢᵃᵇⁱˡⁱᵗʸ ⁿᵒʳ ᶜᵒᵐᵐᵘⁿⁱᵗʸ ᵃˢ ᵃ ʷʰᵒˡᵉ‧ ᔆᵒᵐᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ⸴ ᴵ ᵘˢᵉ ᵃⁿ ᴬᴵ ᵍᵉⁿᵉʳᵃᵗᵒʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʷᵉᵃᵏ ᵗʰᵉ ʷʳⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ * Plankton's chest rises and falls in a more pronounced rhythm, as if he's trying to keep pace with their gentle strokes. His eye, once a window to an internal maelstrom, begins to blink. Slowly at first, then more rapidly, as if clearing the fog of his sensory retreat. "I'm here," she whispers, her voice a promise. The room seems to hold its breath as Plankton's body slowly comes back to life. Karen's smile grows, a soft glow in the dim light. "Good," she says, her voice a gentle caress. "Just keep talking to him." Hanna nods, her own voice a shaky whisper. "I'm here," she repeats. "You're ok." His stare starts to waver, focusing on her face. She feels his squeeze her hand, a tentative acknowledgment of her presence. Karen's smile broadens. "See?" she whispers. "He hears you." Hanna nods, her voice a soft caress. "You're safe," she murmurs. His gaze slowly shifts to hers, his pupil dilating with recognition. It's a small victory, but it feels like the world has shifted back into place. "It's ok, Plankton," Hanna whispers, her voice a soft lullaby in the quiet room. "You're ok. I'm sorry." His eye slowly refocuses, the panic receding like a tide. The room, once a prison of anxiety, now feels like a warm embrace. "H-Hanna?" Plankton's voice is a raspy croak, a whisper of sound in the quiet room. Hanna lit up, a tear escaping to trace a path down her cheek. "Yes, it's me," she says, her voice thick with emotion. "You're ok." "What...what happened?" His voice is shaky, unsure. Karen's grip on Hanna's shoulder tightens for a moment before she gently pulls away. "You had a bit of an overload, honey," she says, her voice still a whisper. "Hanna's been helping me bring you back." Plankton squeezes Hanna's wrist once more before slowly retreating. She feels a pang of loss but understands that he needs space. He blinks rapidly, his gaze searching the room as if trying to piece together the puzzle of his reality. "It's ok," Karen says soothingly, her voice a soft melody. "You're safe. We're all here." Slowly, Plankton's eye refocuses, his pupil dilating as he blinks back to reality. He looks around the room, slightly confused, before his gaze settles on Karen's hand holding his. Recognition flits across his features. "Karen?" he murmurs, his voice hoarse. "I'm here," she says, her grip on his tentacle tightening slightly. "You're ok." His antennae flicker to life, and he takes a deep, shuddering breath. His gaze shifts to Hanna, who is watching him with a mix of concern and apology etched into her features. Hanna's wells up with tears as she sees the confusion in his gaze. "I'm so sorry," she whispers, her voice cracking. "I didn't mean to—" "It's okay," Karen says quickly, cutting off Hanna's apology. She squeezes Plankton's hand gently. "You just had a little break. That's all." Plankton nods slowly, his antennae drooping slightly as he tries to piece together the last moments. Hanna can see the effort it takes for him to process what happened. She feels a wave of regret for pushing him too far, for not understanding his boundaries fully. Karen gives Hanna a knowing look. She's seen this before, the guilt that comes with accidentally triggering one of Plankton's episodes. But she knows that Hanna's heart is in the right place, that she's here to learn and grow. And as Plankton's gaze lingers on her, she knows that he sees it too. Plankton's gaze softens slightly, the panic subsiding. He opens his mouth to speak, but only a faint sigh escapes. Karen steps closer, her hand resting on his shoulder. "You don't need to explain," she says, her voice a balm to his frazzled nerves. "Just rest." Hanna feels a weight lift from her chest as Plankton's tentacle releases her hand. She withdraws it slowly, watching as he pulls his own tentacles closer to his body, a sign of his internal comfort. The room, which moments ago felt like it was closing in, now feels like a sanctuary, a place where they can all find peace. "Thank you," Plankton whispers, his voice a mere echo of its usual robust self. "Both of you." His eye meets Hanna's, and she sees in it a glimmer of understanding, a silent acknowledgment of her apology. Karen gently wipes a tear from Plankton's cheek, her touch as tender as a mother's. "Why don't we sit down?" she suggests, guiding him to the sofa with a firm but gentle grip. Hanna nods, never leaving Plankton as he settles back into the cushions, his arms curling around him protectively. She takes a seat beside him, her hand hovering just above his, unsure if touch is still welcomed. Plankton's breathing has evened out, his chest rising and falling in a deep, restful rhythm. His arms have stilled, and the tension in his body has melted away. Karen sits opposite them, filled with a quiet gratitude. "Thank you," she says to Hanna, her voice a soft whisper. "You've done so well." Hanna nods, still locked on Plankton. "Is he going to be ok?" Karen's voice is a gentle murmur. "He's just exhausted. It takes a lot out of him to come back from an overload." Hanna nods, still unable to fully comprehend the depth of her friend's condition. She watches as Plankton's breaths deepening into the steadiness of sleep. His eye closes with a final blink, and his body relaxes completely. Karen's hand reaches out to cover Hanna's, giving it a comforting squeeze. "It's ok," she says, her voice a gentle reminder of the warmth in the room. "He'll be ok." Hanna nods, watching the steady rise and fall of Plankton's chest, slack with sleep, a testament to the fragility of his condition, and she can't help but feel a pang of guilt for disturbing his peace. A soft snore escapes Plankton, and Karen's hand slides away from Hanna's, and she reaches over to stroke Plankton's lightly, her touch a silent reassurance. His snore deepens. Karen smiles softly, a hint of amusement in her. "He's out?" Hanna asks. Karen nods, a soft smile playing on her lips. "For now. He'll be ok. Just needs some rest." "Is falling asleep a regular thing?" "Not always," Karen says, her voice a soft murmur that doesn't disturb the peaceful scene. Hanna nods, seeing Plankton's relaxed form. "How often does he nap?" Karen leans back in her chair. "He's a light sleeper, and he's only ever fallen asleep during the day one other time," she explains. "We left early to go out of town once to try how a therapy session might work, but it didn't work out well for him. After a shutdown, they let us leave, and he fell asleep in the car on the ride back." "What do we do now?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper. Karen's smile is soft, a balm to Hanna's nerves. "Now," she says, "we let him rest. He'll be out for a bit, but it's good for him." She gently pulls the blanket from the back of the sofa and drapes it over his form, tucking it around him. "This'll keep him cozy." "What do we do when he wakes up?" Hanna whispers. "We'll keep things low-key," Karen replies, her voice a gentle ripple in the quiet. "No loud noises, no sudden movements. We'll just let him come back to us when he's ready." Hanna nods, her gaze still locked on Plankton. "What...what can I do to help?" Her voice is a soft tremble, a question wrapped in a cocoon of care. "Just be here," Karen whispers. She pauses, her hand still resting on Plankton. "Do you have any questions about his condition?" Hanna nods, swallowing the lump in her throat. "Do you know what caused him to be born with it?" she asks, her voice tentative. Karen takes a deep breath. "Plankton got stuck and momentarily deprived of oxygen during delivery pressure on his head was just too much, and it irreversibly damaged some of his neural pathways." "Is that... but how did it gave him sensory sensitivity?" "The doctors think it's because his brain had to compensate for the damaged parts, making his senses hyperactive to make up for what he's lost." She pauses, her gaze lingering on Plankton's sleeping form.
PATRICK PLANKTON 3/4 (NEURODIVERGENT AUTHOR) "Here," he said, awkwardly offering a tentacle to help Plankton to his feet. "Let me help you." But Plankton slapped his hand away, his shivering growing more intense. "No," he whispered, his voice barely audible. His body was a wreck of tremors, his tiny frame visibly struggling to hold itself upright. Patrick looked at Karen, his eyes pleading for guidance. Karen nodded gently, understanding the unspoken question. "Just give him some space," she whispered back. The tension in the room was palpable as Patrick took a step back, his tentacles retracting into his body. Plankton's shivering grew worse, his tiny frame seemingly shrinking before their eyes. He wrapped his arms around himself, his legs giving out beneath him. Before Karen could even react, Patrick's instincts took over. He lunged forward, catching Plankton in his strong, star-shaped embrace, preventing him from hitting the cold metal floor. The impact was jarring, but Patrick's concern for his friend outweighed any discomfort he might have felt. "Whoa, buddy," he murmured, his tentacles embracing Plankton's shoulders. "You ok?" Karen watched the scene unfold with a mix of surprise and admiration for the starfish's intuitive care. "P-Patrick," Plankton stuttered, his body still convulsing slightly. Patrick's eyes searched Plankton's face for any sign of pain or discomfort, his tentacles tightening around his friend's shaking body. "It's ok," he murmured, his voice soothing despite the fear that was knotting his insides. "You just had a little episode, but you're ok now." Plankton's body stiffened, his antennae sticking straight out in alarm. "What are you doing?" he hissed, his voice a mix of anger and fear. "Just trying to help," Patrick said, his eyes filled with genuine concern. "You're shaking, and I don't want you to fall." Plankton's antennae drooped, the fight draining from him. "I..." he murmured, wanting to escape Patrick's grasp. But Patrick held firm. "You lean on Karen, yet it's ok to lean on someone else too." Plankton's eye searched the room, desperate to find a way out of this embarrassing situation. "I-I don't need..." But his protests were cut short by a wave of dizziness that washed over him. His legs buckled. "Let me go," he whispered, his voice trembling with a mix of anger and fear. Patrick's tentacles tightened around Plankton slightly, but he didn't let go. "You need to relax," he said softly. "Just breathe." Plankton's shivering grew worse, his teeth chattering like a typewriter on overdrive. "Can't... can't breathe," he managed to get out. Karen stepped in, her eyes filled with a mix of concern and understanding. "Plankton," she said, her voice calm and even, "you need to relax. You're safe." "But he's..." Plankton's protests were cut off by another tremor that rippled through his body. "I know, buddy," Patrick said gently. "But sometimes we all need a little help, even if we don't want to admit it." "Get. Off. Me!" he spat, his voice filled with a desperation that made Patrick's heart ache. But Patrick didn't move. He just held Plankton closer. "You're safe. I just don't want you to..." Plankton's tremors grew more violent, and his eye rolled back into his head again. His tiny body convulsed in Patrick's arms, his antennae flailing wildly. "Patrick, let go!" Karen's voice was sharp with fear. "You're making it worse!" Patrick's tentacles loosened their grip, and Plankton slumped back onto the bed, his body still quivering uncontrollably. Karen's robotic hands moved with surprising gentleness as she tucked him in, scanning his form for any sign of injury. "It's okay," she whispered, her voice a soothing hum. "You're safe now." Patrick hovered nearby, his heart racing. He didn't know what to say or do to make things right. The sight of his friend in such distress was more than he could bear. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his tentacles wringing in his hands. "I didn't mean to..." But Plankton's shivering had stopped, his body going slack. His antennae had dropped to his side, and his single eye was closed. Karen checked his pulse again, her expression unreadable. "He's okay," she said finally, her voice a mix of relief and exhaustion. "Just needs to rest." Patrick hovered by the bedside, feeling helpless. "What can I do?" he asked, his tentacles twitching with the need to help in some way. Karen looked up at him, her expression a mix of gratitude and weariness. "Just be here," she murmured. "And maybe... maybe don't touch him again." Patrick nodded solemnly, his tentacles drooping in defeat. "Okay," he murmured. "I'll just stay." He watched as Karen continued to monitor Plankton's condition, her mechanical movements a stark contrast to the tender way she treated her husband. The silence in the room was heavy with unspoken words and fear. "I had no idea," Patrick whispered, his gaze never leaving Plankton's still form. "It's not something he talks about," Karen said gently. "But you should know. Plankton's episodes are often triggered by sudden movements, loud noises, or physical contact." Patrick nodded, his gaze still on Plankton. "I didn't mean to scare him," he said softly. Karen's eyes met his, filled with understanding. "I know, Patrick," she said. "But you have to understand, Plankton's condition makes him sensitive to certain things." Patrick nodded slowly, his gaze never leaving Plankton's face. "What exactly are triggers?" he asked, his voice a low murmur. "Well," Karen began, her voice taking on the tone of a teacher explaining a complex concept, "triggers are basically anything that sets off Plankton's condition. They can be anything from a sudden sound to someone touching him without warning. It's like his brain gets overstimulated and shuts down to protect itself." Patrick listened intently, his eyes never leaving Plankton's still form. "So, I shouldn't..." Karen interrupted gently, "you shouldn't surprise him, especially with physical contact." Patrick nodded, his tentacles stilling as he took in the gravity of the situation. He had never thought about how his actions could affect someone in such a profound way. "How can I help then?" he asked, his voice small. "Just be there," Karen said, her hand patting his shoulder. "Talk to him, keep things calm. And if he starts to get overwhelmed, just let him be. Sometimes, that's all he needs." Patrick nodded, taking in her words. He knew he wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, but he could do this. Be there for his friend without smothering him. He could be that rock that Plankton could lean on without crushing him. "Okay," he murmured, "I can do that." Karen turned her attention back to Plankton, her robotic eyes scanning his body for any signs of improvement. "He's resting now," she said, her voice a soft whisper. "But he might be irritable when he wakes up." Patrick nodded, his gaze never leaving his friend. "What can I do to make sure he doesn't get to upset?" he asked, his tentacles twitching with anxiety. "Look for signs," Karen said. "If his antennae start to twitch, or he seems distant it might be time to give him some space." Patrick nodded, his eyes searching Plankton for any signs of distress. He didn't want to cause his friend any more pain, especially after seeing him like this. "What else?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "Look at his breathing," Karen instructed, her gaze focused on Plankton's chest rising and falling in slow, shallow movements. "If it gets rapid or erratic, he's likely overwhelmed." Patrick nodded, watching intently as Plankton's chest moved with each breath. "Ok" he murmured, "I'll keep an eye on that." Karen's gaze softened, looking up at the starfish. "It's more than just that, Patrick," she said gently. "It's about understanding him, knowing what sets him off." Patrick nodded, his eyes focused on Plankton. "So, what are the signs?" Karen paused, considering her words carefully. "Well, it's like reading a book," she began. "You have to pay attention to the little things, the subtle cues that tell you how he's feeling." "Subtle cues?" he repeated, his brow furrowed in concentration. "Yes," Karen nodded. "Like how he reacts when you touch him. Sometimes, it can be soothing. Other times, it can be overwhelming." She paused, her eyes scanning Plankton's form for any signs of distress. "It's all about reading his cues." Patrick leaned in closer, his tentacles stilling. "How do know if it's helping or hurting, or what type of touching?" "It's different for everyone with his condition," Karen explained, still on Plankton's sleeping form. "But for Plankton, it's usually about pressure." Patrick's eyes widened. "What do you mean?" Karen demonstrated with her robotic arm, applying gentle pressure to Patrick's shoulder. "Like this," she whispered. "Soft, comforting touches can help him feel grounded." Patrick tentatively reached out with a tentacle, mimicking the light touch. He watched as Plankton's sleeping body tensed for a moment before relaxing slightly. "Is that ok?" he asked, his voice barely above a murmur. "Just keep it gentle," Karen reminded him, her eyes still on her husband. "And pay attention to his reactions."
PATRICK PLANKTON 4/4 (NEURODIVERGENT AUTHOR) Patrick nodded, his tentacle hovering above Plankton's shoulder. He was about to touch him again when Karen spoke up. "Remember, Patrick," she said, her voice a soft hum, "it's all about his comfort. If he seems tense or pulls away, you know to ease off." Patrick nodded, his tentacle poised in the air ready to offer comfort without causing more distress. "Okay," he murmured his eyes never leaving Plankton's peaceful, if slightly troubled, face. "Soft and gentle.." "Yes," Karen said. "And if he flinches or seems more uncomfortable, I know to stop immediately." Patrick nodded solemnly retreating. "I don't wanna worsen," he whispered. "You won't," Karen assured him. "Just remember, Plankton's condition isn't your fault. And he's lucky to have a friend like you who cares enough to learn." Patrick nodded, his tentacles stilling as he absorbed the information. He looked down at his massive starfish body, feeling clumsy and awkward next to Plankton's frail frame. "How do I know if I'm touching him the right way?" he asked, his voice tentative. "Just watch for his reactions," Karen instructed, her robotic eyes flickering as she observed Plankton's peaceful expression. "If he relaxes, you're doing it right. If not, you're doing too much." Patrick nodded, his tentacles hovering anxiously. "But how do I show him interest and care, without touching?" Karen considered his question, her robotic brain processing. "Words can be powerful, too," she said finally. "Ask him about his day, what he's been working on. Show genuine interest in his life." Patrick nodded, his tentacles retracting slightly. "I can do that," he murmured. "Plankton enjoys talking about his inventions," Karen began. "He finds solace in the predictability of science and engineering. It's his way of making sense of the world." Patrick nodded, his gaze thoughtful. "So, I should ask him about his latest gizmo?" "Exactly," Karen said with a small smile. "And listen, really listen to what he has to say. It's his way of sharing his world with you." Patrick nodded, his eyes reflecting his determination to be a better friend. "Instead of physical affection, what else might he like to show I care?" he asked eager to learn more. "Plankton's quite fond of his pet, Spot," Karen said, her voice a mix of fondness and amusement. "You could offer to help play with Spot, or even bring a little treat for him." Patrick's eyes lit up at the mention of the tiny amoeba puppy. "Really?" he asked, his tentacles unfurling slightly. "Yes," Karen said with a smile, "Spot is a source of great comfort to him, they enjoy each other." She paused, considering. Patrick's tentacles began to twitch with excitement. "Could you get Spot?" he asked, his voice hopeful. "Maybe having Spot here would help him feel better when he wakes up." Karen's smile grew. "That's a wonderful idea, Patrick," she said, and glided out of the room, to get Spot. Plankton's antennae twitched, and his eye began to flutter open. "Wha..." Karen returned with Spot in tow, the little amoeba wagging its tail. She placed the small creature gently on the bed with Plankton. "Look who's here to see you," she said, voice a gentle coo. Plankton's antennae perked up at the sight of his little amoeba bounced over. Patrick watched as the tiny creature brought a rare smile to Plankton's face. "Hey, bud," Plankton murmured. Spot in Plankton's arms, licking his face with its tiny, slimy tongue. Plankton giggled. "Good boy," he murmured, his antennae twitching with delight. The sight of Spot's excitement seemed to ease some of the tension in his body. Patrick watched from the side, his tentacles twitching with the desire to join in the moment of levity. He knew he had to tread carefully, but he also knew Plankton's smile was worth it. "How about we play a game? Spot can come too." he suggested, voice soft and tentative. Karen nodded, her smile genuine. "That's a great idea. Plankton loves a good trivia game." Patrick's eyes lit up. "I know just the thing!" He dashed out of the room and returned with a battered old board game titled "Bikini Bottom Brainiac Challenge." "This is perfect," Karen said, her voice filled with relief. She knew how much Plankton enjoyed a good intellectual showdown. Patrick set up the game with shaky tentacles, and Plankton's antennae twitched with curiosity and eagerness. "What's the rules?" Plankton asked, his voice still a little raspy from his episode. He's still holding Spot. "Simple," Patrick said, his tentacles steady as he unfolded the board. "We take turns answering trivia questions. If you get one right, you move forward. If not you go back." Plankton's antennae wiggled with excitement. "I've got this," he declared, his competitive spirit briefly overriding his exhaustion. "Let's start with an easy one," Karen suggested, her robotic voice filled with a motherly concern. Patrick nodded, picking up a card. "Alright, Plankton," he began, his tone light, "who invented the telephone?" Plankton's antennae shot up. "Alexander Clam Bell," he said with a smug smile, and Spot barked in excitement. Karen chuckled. "Correct," she said, moving his game piece forward. "Patrick's question." Plankton pulled a card from the pile, his tentacles shaking slightly. "Okay," he said, "who was the first sea creature to walk on land?" Patrick thought for a moment, his tentacles tapping the side of his head. "I know this one," he exclaimed. "It was..." He paused, trying to remember the name from one of Mr. Krabs' many history lessons. "Gilligan!" Karen's robotic laugh filled the room. "I'm afraid not, Patrick. It was actually the first amphibian, not a sea creature, who walked on land." Plankton rolled his eye. "It's okay, Patrick. It was a good guess," he said, his tone kinder than the usual sarcasm. Patrick chuckled, feeling a bit silly. "Alright, I'll work on my history," he said, moving his piece back. "Your turn, Karen." The game continued, the tension in the room slowly dissipating with each question and laugh. Plankton's eye lit up with each answer he knew, his antennae waving with excitement. The simple act of playing together brought a sense of normalcy to the situation. Karen's questions were more science-based, which Plankton devoured. "What is the chemical composition of seawater?" she asked, her robotic eyes gleaming with challenge. "Easy," Plankton said, his voice growing stronger with each word. "It's mostly sodium chloride with traces of other salts and minerals." Patrick watched as Plankton's confidence grew with every correct answer, his antennae standing tall. The game was a balm to his friend's frazzled nerves, a gentle reminder of the Plankton he knew before the meltdown. "Your turn," he said. Karen's question was about the ocean's currents, and Plankton felt a twinge of excitement. "Oh, I know this one," he exclaimed. "It's all about the Coriolis Effect is what makes the water spin in different directions in the northern and southern hemispheres!" Patrick nodded, his tentacles twirling with enthusiasm. "Wow, Plankton, you're really good at this!" But as he went to roll the dice, his excitement got the better of him. The dice slipped from his grasp, bouncing straight Plankton's open eye. Plankton yelped in pain. Patrick's tentacles froze mid-air, his eyes wide with horror. "Oh no!" he exclaimed, reaching out to help his friend. But Plankton was already recoiling, his antennae flailing as he clutched his eye. "Ow!!" Patrick's heart sank. "I'm so sorry!" he exclaimed, reaching out to comfort his friend. But Plankton was already on the defensive, arms swiping at the air as if trying to swat away the pain, his eye watering. Patrick's tentacles retreated immediately, the gravity of his mistake weighing heavy on him. "I didn't mean to," he said, his voice tight with regret. "I'm sorry, Plankton." Plankton's eye watered, and he blinked rapidly, trying to clear the pain. Karen's eyes went wide with alarm, and she was at his side in an instant. "Plankton?" Plankton rubs his eye with his tiny hand. "Just... just give me a moment." Patrick gets a small bag of ice with a cool cloth. "Here," he says, holding it out tentatively. "Cold might help Plankton.." Plankton's eye is still red and watery, but he takes the ice pack. "Thanks," he mumbles placing the cool compress on his eye. After a few moments, he lets out a sigh. "It's ok," he says, his voice a mix of pain and annoyance. "It may bruise." Patrick looks at him with a mix of relief and guilt. "Are you sure you're ok?" he asks, his tentacles hovering. "Yes!" Plankton exclaimed, antennae shooting up. He winced as he tried to open the eye fully, but the pain was too much. "But I can handle it," he said through gritted teeth. Plankton took a deep breath, the silence in the room thick with the sting of pain. He knew he had to say something, to apologize for how he treated Patrick. "Look," he began, gruff but sincere. "Sorry if I've been a bit... much.." Patrick's tentacles twitched with emotion. "It's ok, Plankton," he said, his voice thick. "I just didn't know how to help." "You're trying," Plankton said, antennae dropping slightly. "And that's more than anyone else has ever done, other than Karen and Spot of course." Plankton's antennae twitched, his voice a little softer than usual. "You're just to... to enthusiastic for me most times." Patrick nodded. "I'll be more careful," he murmured. Karen looked at him with a mix of gratitude and pity. "Patrick, it's not your fault," she said. "Plankton's condition is complex, and even I struggle to sometimes. Plankton's not like everyone else. He needs his space, his quiet and his routines." Patrick nodded, his tentacles drooping slightly. "I'll do better," he said, earnest.
ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 𝟷.𝟶𝟼ᴋ At the Neptune Medical Center, Karen parks the car and goes with her husband Plankton into the building after an injury to his antenna. "I still don't see why you didn't press charges against Krabs, Sheldon," Karen sighs, as they walk through the gleaming, sterile corridors of the medical center. "Karen I'm not gonna give him the satisfaction." Plankton's antenna now hangs limp and damaged. The doctor had assured him it was a simple repair job, yet Plankton's nerves were as frayed as the antenna itself. They enter the reception area, the automatic doors whispering shut behind them, as if sealing off the outside world's chaos. The smell of antiseptic fills the air, mingling with the faint scent of fear and hope. The receptionist, a young squid with a friendly smile, looks up from her computer screen. "Mr. Plankton, your appointment is with Dr. Marlin, the antenna specialist," she says, her tentacles typing efficiently. "You can go straight to the third floor, room 304." The elevator ride is silent, save for the rhythmic ding of each passing floor. Karen notices his distant gaze and squeezes his arm reassuringly. "You'll be fine, Sheldon," she whispers. Plankton nods. They arrive at room 304, and Karen opens the door, revealing a state-of-the-art examination room. Dr. Marlin, an octopus with a gleaming scalpel in one tentacle and a clipboard in another, looks up from his notes. "Ah, Mr. Sheldon Plankton, right on time," he says, his eight eyes blinking in unison. "I understand you've had a bit of an injury?" Plankton nods, his voice tight. "Krabs... he... snapped it." Dr. Marlin's tentacles twitch in concern. "Mr. Eugene Krabs, eh? He's had his share of accidents around here." He scribbles something on the clipboard. "Well, let's get you fixed up. I've seen worse, and you're in good hands." The doctor leads Plankton to the examination chair, which is surprisingly comfortable for someone so tiny. He adjusts the chair's height and angles the light to shine on the antenna. Plankton winces as the doctor gently prods the damaged area. "It's definitely snapped," Dr. Marlin says, his voice calm and professional. "But the good news is, it's not to far gone. We can repair it with a simple procedure." "You'll need to be under for this," he explains. "It's nothing to worry about. You'll be out Before you know it." Plankton's heart races as he lies back in the chair, the cold metal pressing against his back. He glances at Karen, who gives him a forced smile, her screen filled with concern. The doctor notices and pats his shoulder reassuringly. "It's just a little sleep," he says. "You'll be back in no time." Karen reaches for his hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. The anesthesiologist, a bluefish with a gentle demeanor, enters the room, pushing a trolley with a variety of bottles and tubes. She introduces herself as Nurse Bella and explains that she'll be administering the anesthesia for the surgery. Plankton swallows hard, eye darting from her to Karen's screen and back again. Karen's gaze follows the anesthesiologist, Nurse Bella, as she meticulously prepares. "Ready? Count as high as you can," she asks, her voice as soft as a lullaby. Plankton nods, his grip on Karen's hand tightening. "One... two... three..." Plankton's voice starts strong, but the medicine's effect begins to take hold. His eyelid grow heavy, and the numbers begin to slur. Karen watches as Plankton's count descends into a whisper. "Five... six... sev..." His tiny hand relaxes in hers, and his body goes slack. She watches the rise and fall of his chest slow as he succumbs to the anesthesia. Karen squeezes his hand one last time. The door to the exam room opens again, and Dr. Marlin's head pokes out. "Everything's gone well," Dr. Marlin says, peering over his mask. "We're to halt anesthesia." "You're okay," Karen whispers, her voice cracking. "You're okay." "He's doing great," the nurse whispers. "You can talk to him if you'd like. Sometimes they can hear you." Karen leans closer, her voice low and soothing. "Hey, Plankton, it's Karen. You're safe now. They've fixed your antenna. No more pain, okay?" Her thoughts are interrupted by a soft groan from the bed. Karen's screen snap to Plankton, who's beginning to stir under the blankets. "Shh," she whispers, stroking his arm. "You're safe." "K...Karen?" His eye opens. "Yes, it's me. You're okay, you're in the hospital. They've fixed your antenna." "Karen... antenna... Krabby Patty... wait, what?" He giggles, the words jumbling together in a way that makes no sense. Plankton's eye widen with childlike excitement. "Oh, right! The antenna!" He tries to touch the bandage but ends up nearly slapping himself in the face with his own arm. "Oops!" He giggles again, the sound echoing through the quiet room. He tries to sit up, but cannot. "Whoa, Nelly!" "Easy," Karen laughs. "I'm the king of the jellyfish prom! They got no flair!" Once in the car, Karen buckles him in with care, double-checking the seatbelt. "Remember, no funny business," she warns. Plankton's eye droop, and his head lolls to the side. "You're going to sleep, aren't you?" she says, her voice a mix of amusement and exhaustion. "M'not sleeping," Plankton mumbles, his eyelid fluttering, his voice fading into a snore. The drive home is peaceful, with Plankton snoring lightly beside her. As they approach their place, she gently shakes him awake. "We're home, Sheldon," she says, her voice gentle. "Can you wake up for me?" Plankton's eye blink open, and he looks around in confusion. "Home?" he mumbles. "Already?" Karen nods with a smirk. "Yeah, you slept through the whole drive. Came out of it just in time." They get out of the car, and Plankton wobbles slightly on his legs, the after-effects of the anesthesia still lingering. Karen wraps an arm around his waist, supporting him as they make their way to the front door. With a chuckle, Karen helps him inside, the warm light of their living room washing over them. Plankton's snores become more pronounced as they move through the hallway. "Come on, you need to get to bed," she says, leading him to their bedroom. The room is cozy, with a large bed that seems to swallow Plankton whole as he collapses into it. Karen carefully pulls the covers up to his chin. "Rest now," she whispers, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead.
Plankton found himself in a sticky situation. In his haste, he collided with a submerged rock, and with a painful snap, one of his antennae broke dangling in half. His computer wife Karen took him to a clinic. The receptionist, a kind octopus named Tentacla, took his information and assured Dr. Dolittlefish would see him shortly. "Plankton?" Dr. Dolittlefish called out, his voice echoing through the room. Plankton walked in, Karen trailing behind. The doctor examined the fractured antenna. Plankton winced, feeling a sharp pain as the doctor prods it gently. Dr. Dolittlefish chuckled, "We'll need to perform a repair, and for that, you'll need a touch of anesthesia. It'll make you feel like you're floating on a cloud.." Plankton's one good antenna perked up with interest. "A magical elixir that will put you into a state of deep relaxation," Dr. Dolittlefish explained, his eyes twinkling behind his spectacles. "You'll be completely unaware of the surgery. We give you a little dose to make you drowsy. It's like sinking into a warm, bubble bath after a long day of plotting. Trust me, you'll wake up with a fixed antenna and no memories of the procedure. It's like a nap that'll keep you unconscious and pain-free throughout the operation. It's tailored for each patient, so you'll only get what you need." Turning to Karen, who had been quietly observing the exchange, the doctor said, "Karen, if you have any concerns, feel free to ask. Your husband's safety is my top priority. I'll be sure to take into account." Karen sighed, her circuits whirring as she searched for the right words. "Well, Plankton has always had trouble with deep sleep. He's a bit of a light sleeper, you see. Even the slightest disturbance and he's up for the day. It's hard for him to get to sleep." The doctor nodded, scribbling more notes. "I see," he said thoughtfully. "That does add a layer of complexity to the anesthesia. We'll need to be precise with the dosage to ensure he remains asleep throughout the surgery without any complications. We'll use the lightest touch possible and administer the anesthesia in a way that minimizes discomfort." Dr. Dolittlefish turned to Plankton. "Now, when you wake up, it'll be like coming out of a delightful dream. You'll feel a bit groggy, like you've just emerged from a particularly long nap. You might be a tad disoriented, but that's perfectly normal. Your body will be feeling the effects of the medication wearing off, so it's crucial that you rest for a while in our recovery area." Plankton's eye searched Karen', looking for reassurance. She nodded firmly, gripping his tiny hand. "You'll be okay, Plankton. I'll be right here." The doctor nodded. "Karen, you can accompany him into the surgery room. But remember, you'll have to go and stay outside once the actual procedure begins." The next day, Plankton and Karen returned to the clinic, feeling a mix of anxiety and hope. The lobby was filled with various sea creatures, all waiting for their appointments with their own assortment of woes and ailments. "Come on, Plankton," Karen urged, her voice steady. "You've got this." Dr. Dolittlefish took his place at the head of the operating table, a serious look on his face. "Alright, Plankton," he said, his voice steady, "It's time for the anesthesia. This might feel a bit strange, but remember, it's just like drifting off to sleep." With a flick of his fin, he administered the first dose through a small tube connected to a bubble filled with the sedative. The bubble popped, and Plankton felt a warm sensation spread through his body. It started in his toes and traveled up to his antennae, making them feel weightless. His eye grew heavier, and he couldn't help but let out a sigh. The room began to spin gently, the sounds around him becoming muffled, like the distant hum of a lullaby sung by the ocean currents. He felt himself sinking into the chair, the cushions seemingly made of the softest sea foam. "How do you feel?" Dr. Dolittlefish's voice was a comforting murmur. "Woozy," Plankton slurred, his eyelid fluttering. The room was a blur of lights and colors, like a kaleidoscope of bubbles. The pain in his antenna was fading, replaced by a pleasant numbness. Karen squeezed his hand tightly, her grip the only solid thing in his swirling world. She watched him closely, her LED eyes full of worry. "It's ok, Plankton," she murmured. "You're going to be fine." The doctor nodded to her encouragement. "I want you to count backwards from one hundred ok?" Plankton, already feeling the warm embrace of the anesthesia, began his count with a lazy sensation. "One hundred... ninety-nine... ninety-eight..." His voice grew softer with each number, the digits slipping away like grains of sand through his tiny fingers. The world around him grew fuzzy, like a TV show losing signal. The lights above looked like distant stars, their brightness dimming as he descended into the abyss of unconsciousness. "...eighty-four... eighty-three... eighty-two..." His eye now half-closed, the surgery room's noises melding into a symphony of comforting whispers. The gentle sway of the seaweed outside the clinic's windows seemed to be rocking him to sleep. His voice grew more faint, words slurring together. Karen watched him count, her gaze never leaving his face. She could feel his hand loosening in hers, his grip becoming as light as a feather. Each number he uttered was a step closer to the surgery that would hopefully restore his antenna to its former glory. The count grew slower, like a snail on a leisurely stroll across the ocean floor. His voice was a mere murmur, the words barely discernible. Karen could see his tiny chest rising and falling in a slow, rhythmic pattern, his breathing growing deeper and more relaxed with each passing moment. The colors around them bled into one another, creating a dreamlike landscape. The lights above danced like jellyfish in a moonlit lagoon, casting eerie shadows across the gleaming surgical instruments. Plankton's eye fully closed now, his count barely a whisper. Each word was a soft ripple in the vast ocean of sleep that was consuming him. The whirring of the machines and the occasional splash of water seemed to fade into the background, replaced by the steady rhythm of his breathing. Karen watched, her heart swelling with love and fear as she listened to the dwindling numbers. Plankton's voice was now a faint echo, his body going slack. The room was still, save for the hypnotic pulse of the anesthesia bubbles and Plankton's shallow breaths. Karen held her own breath, her screen never leaving his face. His count grew quieter still, each number a soft, barely perceptible sigh. Karen felt the tension in her limbs ease as she watched the lines of worry on Plankton's forehead smooth out. His sleep was finally deep and peaceful, the anesthesia working its magic. "Thirty-four... thirty-three..." His voice was a mere ripple in the vast sea of quiet that filled the room. The last number slipped away, and Plankton's count stopped, his breathing deep and even. Karen felt the weight of his hand in hers, a silent testament to his complete surrender to the anesthesia's embrace. She watched Plankton's chest rise and fall with each steady breath, his body utterly relaxed with his eye sealed shut slightly. The surgery room, once a cacophony of fear and doubt, was now a sanctuary of peace, the only sounds the rhythmic beep of the heart monitor and Plankton's soft snores. The doctor nodded, satisfied with the sedation's effect. "Alright, Karen, he finally fell asleep," he whispered, patting Plankton's shoulder. "Now, we'll proceed with the actual procedure." Karen swallowed hard, nodding her head. She had never seen Plankton so vulnerable, but she knew this was for the best. "I'll be right outside," she said, her voice wavering slightly. She leaned in and kissed Plankton's forehead before letting go. With a final squeeze of his hand, she reluctantly let go and went towards the door. The doctor nodded in understanding, his eyes focused on the delicate task ahead. As the door slid shut with a soft hiss, Karen found herself in the stark, sterile waiting room. The walls were lined with sea-themed art, an attempt to provide comfort in a place filled with uncertainty and anxiety. She hovered over to the plush sea sponge chair, the material reminding her of home. Her tentacles wrapped around the phone, her movements deliberate and precise as she dialed the numbers. The first call was to Spongebob, she knew he would want to know about the accident. The line rang, and she hoped he'd pick up. "Karen?" "Spongebob, it's about Plankton," she began, her voice trembling. "He's had an accident, and he's in surgery now." "Oh no!" Sponge Bob exclaimed, his bubbly enthusiasm dimming. "Can I talk to Plankton during the surgery?" "No, they put Plankton to sleep," Karen explained, her tentacles gripping the phone tightly. "But I'll let him know you called as soon as he wakes up." "Thank you, Karen," SpongeBob said, his voice filled with genuine concern. "Tell him I'm thinking of him." The receptionist, Tentacla, noticed her distress and swam over. "Is everything okay?" she asked, her tentacles poised to offer comfort or assistance. "It's just... I've never seen him like this," Karen admitted, her voice wavering. "So... vulnerable." Tentacla nodded sympathetically, her tentacles reaching out to pat Karen's arm. "It's tough, I know. But Dr. Dolittlefish is the best in the business. Plankton's in good fins."
ANTENNAE i Plankton found himself in a sticky situation. In his haste, he collided with a submerged rock, and with a painful snap, one of his antennae broke dangling in half. His computer wife Karen took him to a clinic. The receptionist, a kind octopus named Tentacla, took his information and assured Dr. Dolittlefish would see him shortly. "Plankton?" Dr. Dolittlefish called out, his voice echoing through the room. Plankton walked in, Karen trailing behind. The doctor examined the fractured antenna. Plankton winced, feeling a sharp pain as the doctor prods it gently. Dr. Dolittlefish chuckled, "We'll need to perform a repair, and for that, you'll need a touch of anesthesia. It'll make you feel like you're floating on a cloud.." Plankton's one good antenna perked up with interest. "A magical elixir that will put you into a state of deep relaxation," Dr. Dolittlefish explained, his eyes twinkling behind his spectacles. "You'll be completely unaware of the surgery. We give you a little dose to make you drowsy. It's like sinking into a warm, bubble bath after a long day of plotting. Trust me, you'll wake up with a fixed antenna and no memories of the procedure. It's like a nap that'll keep you unconscious and pain-free throughout the operation. It's tailored for each patient, so you'll only get what you need." Turning to Karen, who had been quietly observing the exchange, the doctor said, "Karen, if you have any concerns, feel free to ask. Your husband's safety is my top priority. I'll be sure to take into account." Karen sighed, her circuits whirring as she searched for the right words. "Well, Plankton has always had trouble with deep sleep. He's a bit of a light sleeper, you see. Even the slightest disturbance and he's up for the day. It's hard for him to get to sleep." The doctor nodded, scribbling more notes. "I see," he said thoughtfully. "That does add a layer of complexity to the anesthesia. We'll need to be precise with the dosage to ensure he remains asleep throughout the surgery without any complications. We'll use the lightest touch possible and administer the anesthesia in a way that minimizes discomfort." Dr. Dolittlefish turned to Plankton. "Now, when you wake up, it'll be like coming out of a delightful dream. You'll feel a bit groggy, like you've just emerged from a particularly long nap. You might be a tad disoriented, but that's perfectly normal. Your body will be feeling the effects of the medication wearing off, so it's crucial that you rest for a while in our recovery area." Plankton's eye searched Karen', looking for reassurance. She nodded firmly, gripping his tiny hand. "You'll be okay, Plankton. I'll be right here." The doctor nodded. "Karen, you can accompany him into the surgery room. But remember, you'll have to go and stay outside once the actual procedure begins." The next day, Plankton and Karen returned to the clinic, feeling a mix of anxiety and hope. The lobby was filled with various sea creatures, all waiting for their appointments with their own assortment of woes and ailments. "Come on, Plankton," Karen urged, her voice steady. "You've got this." Dr. Dolittlefish took his place at the head of the operating table, a serious look on his face. "Alright, Plankton," he said, his voice steady, "It's time for the anesthesia. This might feel a bit strange, but remember, it's just like drifting off to sleep." With a flick of his fin, he administered the first dose through a small tube connected to a bubble filled with the sedative. The bubble popped, and Plankton felt a warm sensation spread through his body. It started in his toes and traveled up to his antennae, making them feel weightless. His eye grew heavier, and he couldn't help but let out a sigh. The room began to spin gently, the sounds around him becoming muffled, like the distant hum of a lullaby sung by the ocean currents. He felt himself sinking into the chair, the cushions seemingly made of the softest sea foam. "How do you feel?" Dr. Dolittlefish's voice was a comforting murmur. "Woozy," Plankton slurred, his eyelid fluttering. The room was a blur of lights and colors, like a kaleidoscope of bubbles. The pain in his antenna was fading, replaced by a pleasant numbness. Karen squeezed his hand tightly, her grip the only solid thing in his swirling world. She watched him closely, her LED eyes full of worry. "It's ok, Plankton," she murmured. "You're going to be fine." The doctor nodded to her encouragement. "I want you to count backwards from one hundred ok?" Plankton, already feeling the warm embrace of the anesthesia, began his count with a lazy sensation. "One hundred... ninety-nine... ninety-eight..." His voice grew softer with each number, the digits slipping away like grains of sand through his tiny fingers. The world around him grew fuzzy, like a TV show losing signal. The lights above looked like distant stars, their brightness dimming as he descended into the abyss of unconsciousness. "...eighty-four... eighty-three... eighty-two..." His eye now half-closed, the surgery room's noises melding into a symphony of comforting whispers. The gentle sway of the seaweed outside the clinic's windows seemed to be rocking him to sleep. His voice grew more faint, words slurring together. Karen watched him count, her gaze never leaving his face. She could feel his hand loosening in hers, his grip becoming as light as a feather. Each number he uttered was a step closer to the surgery that would hopefully restore his antenna to its former glory. The count grew slower, like a snail on a leisurely stroll across the ocean floor. His voice was a mere murmur, the words barely discernible. Karen could see his tiny chest rising and falling in a slow, rhythmic pattern, his breathing growing deeper and more relaxed with each passing moment. The colors around them bled into one another, creating a dreamlike landscape. The lights above danced like jellyfish in a moonlit lagoon, casting eerie shadows across the gleaming surgical instruments. Plankton's eye fully closed now, his count barely a whisper. Each word was a soft ripple in the vast ocean of sleep that was consuming him. The whirring of the machines and the occasional splash of water seemed to fade into the background, replaced by the steady rhythm of his breathing. Karen watched, her heart swelling with love and fear as she listened to the dwindling numbers. Plankton's voice was now a faint echo, his body going slack. The room was still, save for the hypnotic pulse of the anesthesia bubbles and Plankton's shallow breaths. Karen held her own breath, her screen never leaving his face. His count grew quieter still, each number a soft, barely perceptible sigh. Karen felt the tension in her limbs ease as she watched the lines of worry on Plankton's forehead smooth out. His sleep was finally deep and peaceful, the anesthesia working its magic. "Thirty-four... thirty-three..." His voice was a mere ripple in the vast sea of quiet that filled the room. The last number slipped away, and Plankton's count stopped, his breathing deep and even. Karen felt the weight of his hand in hers, a silent testament to his complete surrender to the anesthesia's embrace. She watched Plankton's chest rise and fall with each steady breath, his body utterly relaxed with his eye sealed shut slightly. The surgery room, once a cacophony of fear and doubt, was now a sanctuary of peace, the only sounds the rhythmic beep of the heart monitor and Plankton's soft snores. The doctor nodded, satisfied with the sedation's effect. "Alright, Karen, he finally fell asleep," he whispered, patting Plankton's shoulder. "Now, we'll proceed with the actual procedure." Karen swallowed hard, nodding her head. She had never seen Plankton so vulnerable, but she knew this was for the best. "I'll be right outside," she said, her voice wavering slightly. She leaned in and kissed Plankton's forehead before letting go. With a final squeeze of his hand, she reluctantly let go and went towards the door. The doctor nodded in understanding, his eyes focused on the delicate task ahead. As the door slid shut with a soft hiss, Karen found herself in the stark, sterile waiting room. The walls were lined with sea-themed art, an attempt to provide comfort in a place filled with uncertainty and anxiety. She hovered over to the plush sea sponge chair, the material reminding her of home. Her tentacles wrapped around the phone, her movements deliberate and precise as she dialed the numbers. The first call was to Spongebob, she knew he would want to know about the accident. The line rang, and she hoped he'd pick up. "Karen?" "Spongebob, it's about Plankton," she began, her voice trembling. "He's had an accident, and he's in surgery now." "Oh no!" Sponge Bob exclaimed, his bubbly enthusiasm dimming. "Can I talk to Plankton during the surgery?" "No, they put Plankton to sleep," Karen explained, her tentacles gripping the phone tightly. "But I'll let him know you called as soon as he wakes up." "Thank you, Karen," SpongeBob said, his voice filled with genuine concern. "Tell him I'm thinking of him." The receptionist, Tentacla, noticed her distress and swam over. "Is everything okay?" she asked, her tentacles poised to offer comfort or assistance. "It's just... I've never seen him like this," Karen admitted, her voice wavering. "So... vulnerable." Tentacla nodded sympathetically, her tentacles reaching out to pat Karen's arm. "It's tough, I know. But Dr. Dolittlefish is the best in the business. Plankton's in good fins."
PLANKTON GOING TO THE DENTIST Ii/Ii Plankton's eye dart around the room, trying to focus, confusion growing as the words won't come out right. "Th-th-the...th-the...th-th-th-th..." He stammers, his mouth working overtime to form the words. Karen's laughter subsides into a comforting chuckle. "It's ok, Plankton." "Th-th-then...why...why do I tawking wike thith?" He asks, voice a wobbly mess, each word a struggle. "I...I'm a g-g-genius!" He stammers, trying to sound defiant despite his speech impediment. "I'n noth s-s-suppothed to tawl wike thish!" Karen giggles. "It's just anesthesia, Plankton," she says soothingly. "It'll wear off soon." Plankton's eye widen further. "B-but...I nee, needff to...to think...think...think!" He stammers. "You'll be fine, Plankton," she says. The dentist pats Plankton's shoulder. "You're quite the charmer even with a mouthful of gauze," he quips, and the assistant snickers. Plankton's cheeks redden, indignation clear even through haze of anesthesia. "I caan...caan...can't...I caan't th-th-think!" Plankton splutters. Karen tries to stifle her giggles, shaking with amusement. "It's anesthesia," she repeats, her voice a gentle wave washing over him. "You're ok, Plankton. You're ok." He takes a deep breath, willing his tongue to cooperate. "G-got...it-t," he says. "Alright, Mr. Plankton, let's get you sitting up," he says. He tries to stand, but his body feels like it's made of jelly, his legs wobbling beneath him. "Whoa!" He exclaims, speech slightly clearer but still slurred. "Thish isn't goog." Karen and the dental staff help him to his feet, the nurse holding on to him as he sways slightly. His eye still glazed over, but there's a hint of the sharpness that she knows so well starting to shine through. "Steady there," she says supporting him. "Let's get to the car." Plankton nods. "Yeah...the...the...ca--" he says. He takes a shaky step. "Just keep taking it slow," she advises, her voice a beacon in the fog of his mind. Karen's supporting him as they navigate the hallway. "Where...wher's...wher's the...the...th-the...?" Plankton's words trip over each other, traitor to his usual eloquence. "The car, sweetie," Karen says, her voice a lifeline in the fog of anesthesia. She leads him through the hallway acting as a gentle guide. The receptionist waves with a smile. "Moth...thath...moth," he stammers. She fastens his seatbelt for him. "D-don't laug-fh at me," he mumbles, eye half-lidded with the lingering effects of anesthesia. "I'm not laughing at you," Karen says. "I'm just happy you're ok." Plankton nods. He tries to say "thanks," but it comes out as "thathks." "You're welcome, Plankton. You're going to be fine." She starts the engine. "Bh-buth...whath abou- the...the...th-the...the...teethies?" Plankton slurs, words a tangled mess. Karen laughs. "Don't worry about the teeth Plankton. They're out. You're all healed up." Plankton nods, his eye glazed and his speech still slurred. "Thath's...tha's good," he manages to say. "But I...I can't t-talk wight," he mumbles, frustrated. "Don't worry, honey," Karen says, patting his hand. "You're just a bit loopy from anesthesia. It'll wear off." Plankton tries to argue, but all that comes out is a series of garbled sounds. "Th-the...th-th-th..." "Your mouth is just numb, Plankton," Karen says, driving. "The anesthesia makes it hard to talk." But Plankton can't help it; he keeps trying, his slurred words a jumble of consonants. "Th-th-that's not ith’s," he protests, his voice bubbly. "I'm a g-g-gen-n-n...genius!" Karen giggles, gripping the steering wheel tightly. "You're a genius all right," she teases. Plankton's eye narrow in determination. "Th-that's not...noth fair!" He says, his tongue feeling like a thick sea slug. Karen can't help but laugh harder. "It's ok, Plankton," she says. "But I...I nee-f to...to...to th-th-think! I can't...can't th-think thish!" Karen's laughter bubbles up again and she squeezes his hand reassuringly. "You're ok, Plankton," she says, voice a warm current of comfort. "D-don't...d-don't leav-e me," he mumbles, his eye drooping. Karen glances over. "I'm right here, Plankton," she says. Plankton's head lolls to the side, and his snores become a soothing background to the hum of the boat's engine. His mouth hangs open, a stream of drool trailing down his chin, creating a small pool in the seat. Karen, noticing the gauze in his mouth has shifted, gently repositioned it, careful not to cause him any pain. He mumbles something incoherent, and she chuckles, shaking her head. "Rest my love," she murmurs. The drool continues to escape Plankton's mouth, creating a wet spot on the boat's upholstery, his slumbering form a stark contrast to the sharp scheming creature she's used to. She reaches over to gently dab at the drool, her movements careful not to disturb his sleep. As the boat docks at the Chum Bucket, Karen wonders how she'll manage to get him inside without him babbling incoherently and scaring off any passersby. But Plankton, in his anesthesia-induced haze, seems oblivious to the world around him, his snores the only sound. Karen helps him out of the boat, and she half-drags half-carries him through the door. They enter their living quarters and she gently lays him on their bed which feels like a vast ocean compared to his usual cramped lab space. She carefully takes out the gauze, watching his eye flutter open. "Where...where am I?" He mumbles. "You're home, Plankton," Karen says, her voice a soft wave of comfort. She wipes his chin clean with a warm, damp cloth. Plankton looks around, his eye finally focusing on the familiar sights of their home. "Home?" He slurs, his tongue thick and clumsy in his mouth. "B-but...I..." "Just rest, Plankton," Karen says, pushing him gently back down. "You've had a big day." Home never felt so welcoming, Plankton thinks, as he sinks into the embrace of the bed. Karen fluffs a pillow under his head, her movements tender. "Th-thank youw," he manages to say, his speech still thick. "You're welcome," Karen replies, her voice a gentle caress. "Now, you just rest. I'll be here." He closes his eye, letting the numbness of his mouth and the heaviness of his limbs take over. Karen sits beside him, moving in a soothing rhythm against his arm. "You're going to be fine," Karen whispers, stroking his cheek. "Just sleep it off and by tomorrow you'll be back to your usual scheming self." Plankton tries to smile but his mouth refuses to cooperate. The corners of his mouth twitch upwards in a half-hearted attempt and he mumbles "I wove youw thoo." The next day, Plankton wakes up. The numbness in his mouth has subsided leaving only a dull throb. He opens his eye to see Karen. "How do you feel?" She asks. Plankton's eye blinked open, the room spinning around him. Karen came into focus. "Mmph; wha's? Wh-when..." "Your wisdom teeth," she says, her voice a soothing tide. "They're gone Plankton. You don't have to worry about them anymore." "Wis-wis-wis...?" He stammers, his tongue tripping over the word "wisdom." "Yes, Plankton," Karen says with amusement. "You had your wisdom teeth removed yesterday." Plankton's eye widen, and he tries to sit up. "Y-yesterday?" He slurs. "But I...I caan't...can't remember.." Karen nods, her smile full of mirth. "You were pretty out of it," she says. He tries to push himself up, but the pain in his mouth sends a shockwave through. "Mph-ow!" He flops back down, his hands flying to his cheeks. "What do you mean?" Karen laughs. "You were pretty loopy," she says, holding him down gently. "The anesthesia had you talking like..." she pauses, searching for the right words. "Well, like you've never talked before." "I hope I...I didn't say anything..." he starts, his voice trailing off. "Oh, you said plenty," she teases. "But don't worry, it was just the anesthesia talking." "Wh-wh-what did I say?" Karen chuckles. "You were worried about your 'teethies'," she mimics his slurred speech from the day before. "And you kept insisting you needed to think, even when it was clear you couldn't even talk straight. But don't worry; you're just fine."
NOTHING BUT THE WISDOM TRUTH i "Why do we have to go so early?" he grumbled. "I know, sweetie," Karen said, patting his hand reassuringly. "But it's for the best. You'll be out like a light during the surgery, and you won't feel a thing." The nurse noticed his distress and offered a kind smile. "Don't worry, Mr. Plankton. We're going to make this as comfortable for you as possible. First things first, let's get you in and then we'll start with some anesthesia." Karen watched as Plankton reluctantly climbed into the chair. The nurse dimmed the lights and adjusted the chair's recline. She placed a warm blanket over him, and the softness enveloped him like a comforting embrace, the nurse preparing Plankton for the surgery. She chatted away, "So, any plans for the weekend?" "Not really," he said, "Just recovery." The nurse nodded. She began to insert the IV, talked him through each step, her voice a comforting lullaby guiding him into a state of relaxation. She continued to engage in light conversation, told about her weekend plans, a lifeline to the outside world that seemed so far away in the cold, clinical environment. As the anesthesia began to work, Plankton felt his body grow heavier, his eyelid drooping. "You're doing great," she said softly. "Just keep breathing, ok?" Plankton's thoughts began to blur together. The doctor's voice grew distant, his words melding into a comforting murmur as Plankton felt himself slipping away. The last thing he heard was Karen's voice, a gentle whisper in his ear. "I'm here," she said, her hand holding onto his with a fierce tenderness. "I love you." And then there was nothing, the last sensation he felt before everything went quiet. The anesthetist monitored Plankton's vitals, ensuring he remained safely asleep throughout the procedure. Plankton was a picture of peace, mouth agape as the anesthesia kept him blissfully unaware of the world around him. The nurse's eyes flick from the monitors to Plankton's serene face. Plankton's body didn't even flinch. Plankton's face remained relaxed, his breathing even, as the anesthetic kept him in a state of blissful unconsciousness, ensuring that his comfort remained top priority. Plankton's body remained still, his chest rising and falling in a rhythmic cadence that soothed the room. The nurse gently swabbed his mouth, keeping the area clean and clear. The doctor stitched up the small incisions with a gentle touch, while the nurse cleaned Plankton's mouth. The anesthetist monitored the levels, ensuring a smooth and safe emergence from the depths of unconsciousness. The doctor looked at Karen, his eyes weary but his smile reassuring. "It's all done," he said. "Everything went smoothly. He's still sleeping it off, but you can go in and see him." Karen rushed in, her screen searching for Plankton. He was there, lying back in the chair, his mouth slightly open, a line of drool escaping the corner of his mouth. He looked so peaceful, vulnerable. She reached out and touched his hand, for the surgery was over. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm as he slept. "He's doing great," she assured her. "The surgery went well." Karen leaned over Plankton, as she brushed his antennae with her hand. She took in the sight of him, the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the soft snorish sounds escaping his mouth. His face was a portrait of peace, a stark contrast to the chaos of the surgery that had just taken place. The nurse finished her work and dimmed the lights, leaving the room in a soft glow that cast shadows across the floor. Karen pulled up a chair and sat down, her hand finding Plankton's again. "You're ok," she murmured, willing him to hear her voice, to feel her presence. "You're going to be ok." Karen's entire world was contained in reassuring her that he was still there. The nurse approached with a wad of gauze. "We need to put this in his mouth to help with bleeding," she explained gently. Karen nodded. The nurse placed the gauze with the same care she had shown throughout the entire ordeal, pressing it gently against the raw, tender spots where Plankton's teeth had once been. The nurse finished her cleanup and checked Plankton's vitals one last time. "He'll come around soon," she assured. "The anesthesia takes a bit to wear off." His breathing was still deep and steady, the gentle rumble of his snores filling the room. She found comfort in the mundane sounds of his slumber. His chest rose and fell in a rhythm that seemed to match the beeping of the heart monitor. The anesthesia had done its job well, leaving him in a deep, dreamless sleep. His face was serene. His antennae lay limp on the chair's headrest, and his mouth was open slightly, revealing the gauze the nurse had placed to stem the bleeding. The drool that had pooled at the corners of his mouth began to seep out onto the chair. The nurse noticed and nodded, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "It's normal," she said. Plankton's snores grew louder, the drool now a small river that trickled down. Karen reached out with a trembling hand, her thumb catching the droplets before they could stain the fabric. The drool was a stark reminder of the reality of the situation. Her screen focused on the slow, steady flow of dribble, forming and breaking away, each one a little more substantial than the last. The nurse had said it was normal, but to Karen, it was a sign of his vulnerability, a tangible proof of the surgery's aftermath. As the drool grew into a small puddle on the chair, Karen's resolve to be strong for him grew stronger. She grabbed a tissue from the box on the side table and gently wiped. The nurse looked at her with understanding. "It's alright," she said softly. "He'll wake un his own time." Karen nodded, her screen never leaving Plankton's face. She felt a strange mix of love and pity. Here he was, reduced to a drooling mess in a chair, and yet she had never felt more connected to him. It was a strange intimacy, this moment of vulnerability, a silent pact between them that she would always be there to wipe away his fears, both literal and figurative. The nurse moved around the room, her movements efficient and silent. She checked the machines one last time before turning to Karen. "Why don't you sit down?" she suggested, patting the chair beside Plankton's. "It'll be a bit before he wakes up. Might as well get comfortable." Karen nodded, taking a deep breath to calm her nerves. She pulled up a chair and held his hand tightly, her thumb brushing back and forth across his knuckles. "Plankton," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. "You did it, sweetie." She leaned closer. "The teeth are out. You're okay." She waited, watching the rise and fall of his chest, listening to the steady beep of the heart monitor, and willing him to open his eye. "Remember what I said about ice cream?" she asked, her voice a little louder this time. "You can have as much as you want when we get home." She tried to keep her tone light, despite the gravity of the situation. The thought of his favorite mint chocolate chip ice cream was supposed to make him smile, but his face remained slack. But she knew he was strong, and he would bounce back. He always did. "I just want you to know how much I love you. How much I need you. We've been through so much together, and I can't imagine my life without you. You're going to wake up soon, and it'll all be over. And then we can go home, and I'll take care of you, just like you always take care of me. Remember when we said 'in sickness and in health'?" she whispered. "Well, this is definitely a 'sickness' moment, but I'm right here. And I'll be here through all the healthy moments too." The nurse quietly left them a moment of privacy. Karen leaned in closer. "You're going to feel a bit funny when you wake up," she said with a soft laugh. "Your mouth will be sore, and your face will be puffy. But I'll be there. And maybe I'll let you win at Scrabble for once." She chuckles. "Just don't let it go to your head." Plankton's eyelid fluttered, and a low moan escaped his throat. She squeezed his hand. "That's it, baby," she encouraged. "You're waking up." His eye opened slowly dilated and unfocused. He blinked a few times, trying to adjust to the harsh lights of the recovery room. He turned his head to the side, and she knew he was searching for her. "Hi," she said, her voice a warm whisper. "It's me, Karen. You're ok." His gaze found hers, and she saw the flicker of recognition. "Where am I?" he slurred, his voice thick and groggy. "You're in the recovery room, sweetheart," Karen said, her voice steady and soothing. "You just had your wisdom teeth out." Plankton's eye widened slightly, and he nodded, trying to sit up. Karen gently pushed him back down. "Easy," she said. "You need to rest." "But I'm so tired," he mumbled, his voice weak. "I know," Karen said, stroking his forehead with her cool hand. "But you're doing great. Just stay still for a little while longer. They got all four teeth out without any complications." He nodded, his eye still closed. "Good," he mumbled.
NOTHING BUT THE WISDOM TRUTH ii "You're in the recovery room, sweetheart," Karen said, her voice steady and soothing. "You just had wisdom teeth out." Plankton's eye widened slightly, and he nodded, trying to sit up. Karen gently pushed him back down. "Easy," she said. "You need to rest." "But I'm so tired," he mumbled, his voice weak. "I know," Karen said, stroking his forehead with her hand. "But you're doing great. Just stay still for a little while longer. They got all four teeth out without any complications." He nodded, his eye still closed. "Good," he mumbled. "I don't... I don't member any ting." His words were slurred. The anesthesia was definitely still working its magic on him. "It's ok," she said, her voice soothing. "You don't need to.." Plankton's head lolled to the side, and his eyelid grew heavy again. "Karen?" he murmured, his voice thick with sleep. "I'm right here," she assured him, her voice steady and calm. She watched as he tried to lift his hand to wipe at his mouth, but it flopped back down onto the chair's armrest, his fingers brushing against hers. Plankton's eye grew heavy again, and his head lolled to the side. The anesthesia was working its way out of his system, but it was taking its time. She chuckled as she watched him struggle to keep his eye open. "I'm... I'm," Plankton mumbled, his words coming out slurred and sloppy. His eye rolled back in his head, and he let out a snore. "You're a mess," she laughs, her voice filled with love. "But you're my mess." She watched as his chest rose and fell with each snore. It was clear that the anesthesia was still holding him in its grasp, and she knew it would be a while before he was fully awake. Karen couldn't help but laugh at his antics. Plankton's snores grew louder. Karen reached out and gently wiped the line of drool from his mouth with a tissue. He stirred, his eye blinking open again. "You're drooling," she whispered, smiling at him. "What's happening?" he asked, his words slurred. "You're coming out of the anesthesia," Karen said, her voice a lifeline in the haze. "Everything went fine." Plankton's eye searched hers, his thoughts racing. "Mmmy...nesia?" he mumbled. Karen's smile grew, understanding his attempt to ask about his sleep during surgery. "You mean the anesthesia?" Karen couldn't help but chuckle at his endeavor. "You're just a little out of it," she said, her voice gentle. "The anesthesia is wearing off." "Thish...thish ish...shomefinny," Plankton tried to say. "What?" Karen asked, her curiosity piqued by his attempt at speech. "Nothin'." Plankton's words were slurred into a single syllable. He looked utterly lost in the haze. Karen leaned closer. "You sure?" Plankton nodded, his smile lopsided. "Jush...jush glad." Karen couldn't help but laugh at his adorable incoherence. "You're so loopy," she said, her voice filled with affection. She squeezed his hand gently. "I love you." "Ish love...love you too, Karen," he slurred. "I know," she said, her voice a mix of amusement and affection. "Tish...tish hard," Plankton mumbled, his cheeks dimpling with his own private joke. The nurse entered the room, checking his vitals with a knowing smile. "It's normal for patients to be a bit out of it after surgery," she said, scribbling notes on her clipboard. "I'm shorry," he said, words still a jumble. Karen couldn't help but lean in closer, her own smile growing wider. "It's ok," she assured him, her voice gentle. The nurse nodded in agreement, her own smile playing at the corners of her lips. "It's quite common," she said, her voice professional but kind. "Ish...Ish...it...over?" he managed to ask, his tongue thick in his mouth. "Yes, sweetheart," Karen said, her voice still filled with love and amusement. "You're all done. They got all your wisdom teeth out." "Thish...thish allll over now-ow." "Almost," Karen said, her voice a gentle melody. "We just need to wait for the anesthesia to wear off a bit more, and then we can go home." Plankton nodded, his eye already drifting shut again. His mouth moved as he attempted to speak, but only slurred sounds came out. Karen leaned in closer, her smile never wavering. "You know, you're pretty chatty for someone who's had their wisdom teeth out." "Ish...Ish always had...shomeshin' to shay," Plankton managed, his speech a series of lisped and elongated sounds. Plankton's eye began to drift closed again, his breathing growing deep and even. The nurse finished her checks and gave Karen instructions for his aftercare. "Make sure he takes it easy," she said. "I will," Karen promised, her screen never leaving Plankton's face. The quiet was filled with the sound of Plankton's snores, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm beneath the blanket. His mouth was still slightly open, and she could see the drool forming at the corner of his lips. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she pulled it out to see a text from Mr. Krabs, Plankton's rival at the Krabby Patty. "How's he doing?" it read. "Loopy," she replied with a smiley face. She had told Mr. Krabs about the surgery the day before, and despite their rivalry, he had offered to come visit when they get back home. The nurse poked her head back in, checking the clock on the wall. "Alright, he's ready to go," she said, her smile warm. Karen nodded, standing up and gently shaking Plankton's shoulder. "Come on," she whispered. "Let's get you home." Plankton's eye blinked open slowly, and he looked around the room with confusion. "Home?" he mumbled, his voice still thick. "Yes, we're going home," Karen said, her voice the balm to his disorientation. She helped him to his feet, supporting his weight as he swayed slightly. The drive back home was a blur of sleep. Plankton's head lolled against the car window, the vibration of the engine lulling him to a doze. "You okay?" Karen asked, glancing at him in the rearview mirror. "Yeah," Plankton mumbled, his voice a sleepy rumble. "Just...tiwed." The drive home was quiet, with only the occasional snore piercing the silence. Karen drove carefully, her eyes flicking between the road and the mirror to check on Plankton. She knew he would be out for the count for a while, and his face was still swollen. As they pulled into their driveway, Plankton stirred. "We're home," Karen said, her voice gentle. He nodded, his eye still half-closed. "Home," he murmured. Karen helped him out of the car, his legs wobbly as he tried to find his balance. She wrapped his arm around her waist, supporting him as they made their way, and he leaned into her, his body heavy with fatigue. The house was quiet as they entered, the only sound the occasional tick of the grandfather clock in the hallway. Karen guided him to the couch, carefully helping him sit down. "Rest here," she said, her voice a gentle command. Plankton nodded, eye closing again. She disappeared into the kitchen, returning with a glass of water and a pillow. "Here," she said, placing the pillow behind his head. He took the glass with a nod, his hand shaking slightly. He took a sip. "Thish...thish ish...good," he managed to say. She knew he was in pain, and the anesthesia was only adding to his confusion. "I'll be right back," she said, her voice a soft whisper. Karen grabbed the pet amoeba puppy, Spot. She carried him back to the living room, where Plankton was slowly coming around. "Look who's here," she said, holding Spot out to him. Spot's blob-like body stretched out in excitement, his little legs waving in the air. Plankton's eye widened at the sight, and a smile spread across his swollen face. "Spot," he murmured, his voice still thick with anesthesia. Karen set Spot on his lap, and the amoeba immediately began to cover him in wet, loving kisses. Plankton chuckled, his hand rising to pet the creature's gelatinous head. "Hey, bubby," he slurred, his speech still compromised. The simple act of touch brought a spark of life to Plankton's eye. "You're good boyth," he said, his voice a mix of affection and pain. Spot's response was a happy wiggle. Karen couldn't help but smile at the sight, Plankton's love for their little amoeba was unwavering. She took a seat beside him, her hand resting gently on his shoulder. "Just rest," she said, her voice a soft command. Plankton nodded, his eyes closing again. Spot continued to shower him with affection, his slimy kisses landing on Plankton. Karen watched them for a moment, her heart swelling with warmth. Then she stood up, knowing there was still more to do to ensure Plankton's recovery went smoothly. In the kitchen, she put together a soft meal for him, something that wouldn't irritate his sensitive mouth. She chopped up some fruit into a small bowl and warmed up a cup of soup. The smells of chicken broth and sweet berries filled the air, a comforting aroma that she hoped would ease his pain. When she returned to the living room, Plankton was asleep, Spot curled up with him. She set the food down on the table, the spoon clinking gently against the porcelain bowl. She took a moment to appreciate the peaceful scene before her, the two of them nestled together, the TV playing a low murmur of background noise. Karen decided to let him sleep for a bit longer. Gently, she lifted Spot off Plankton's lap and placed him on the floor. The amoeba pup quickly scuttled back by the couch, but still on the floor. Karen then turned off the TV, not wanting the noise to disturb Plankton's rest. Just as she was about to leave the room to let him sleep, the doorbell rang. It was Mr. Krabs, his beady eyes looking concerned. She opened the door, whispering, "Shh, he's asleep." Mr. Krabs nodded, his usual gruffness replaced with a rare display of compassion. He held a bag of ice. "Thought he might need these," he said, handing them to her. Karen took the bag gratefully. "Thank you," she whispered. "He's in the living room."
PLANKTON GOING TO THE DENTIST i/Ii "You say you've tenderness in the back of..." "Aw!" Plankton interrupts, as the dentist examines his mouth. "I see your wisdom teeth haven't erupted yet, Mr. Plankton; luckily we can remove them today, if you've a ride home.." "My wife Karen's in the waiting room area, she drove me here." The surgery room is sterile and white, smelling faintly of disinfectant. Plankton's heart races as he sits in the chair, his tiny legs dangling over the edge. The large, looming figures of the dentist and the assistant hover around him, their faces obscured by masks and hats. They guide Karen to a small chair by the wall. "We're going to numb the area," the dentist explains in a soothing voice. "But since you're a bit nervous, we can also offer some to help you relax into sleep before so, not to mention teeth haven't even broke the surface of the gums yet." Plankton nods, gripping the arms of the chair. The dentist administers anesthesia. His grip relaxes. "Just breathe," the dentist instructs. "It'll be over before you know it." Plankton's eye grow heavier as the sedative takes hold. "It's time, Mr. Plankton," the dentist's voice echoes fading into the background like whispers in a distant tide. The chair reclines and he surrenders to dreamless sleep, eyelid shutting. Karen watches, clutching the chair's arm rest. She sees the mask of anesthesia descend over Plankton's face, his breaths slowing to a gentle sigh, matching the rhythm of the sea breeze outside. The assistant's gloved hands move with precision, placing a pillow securing him. Plankton's snores, a gentle rumble, give her some comfort, a sign that he's not in pain. The dentist inserts numbing agents into Plankton's gums. While Plankton remains oblivious to the world, Karen's watching. "Everything's going fine," he assures her. "You can hold his hand if you'd like." Plankton's sleeping mouth is a stark contrast to the towering world around him. Karen follows the steady movements of the dentist's hands, the syringe filled with anesthetic seemingly as large as a harpoon in the sea of Plankton's features. The assistant nods in approval, their expression hidden but the confidence in their stance reassuring. The surgical tools glint in the light reflecting the seriousness of the task at hand. Karen can see the reflection of her own tension in the chrome surfaces, but she forces a smile, trying to be brave for Plankton. It's a gentle gesture, a silent promise that she's there, that she's watching over him. The extraction begins. Karen flinches but Plankton doesn't stir. The dentist's movements are swift and precise, each action deliberate. Karen tries watching her husband's chest rise and fall with the steady rhythm of sleep. The assistant wipes some drool from Plankton's chin with a gentle cloth and Karen suppresses a smile, despite the bleeding. Her little Plankton, so fierce and cunning in his usual world, now so vulnerable. The assistant occasionally looks over to her, offering a reassuring nod as if to say, "Don't worry, he's doing great." The room falls into a quiet rhythm: the steady pulse of the ocean outside, the occasional murmur from the staff, and the soft hiss of the suction tool removing excess saliva. Plankton's snores become more peaceful, his body relaxing as the surgery progresses. Karen watches the blood ooze from the small sockets where the teeth used to be. The assistant quickly places gauze, pressing it down with firm yet gentle fingers, and the bleeding slows. The dentist nods, a job well done, and begins to stitch the wounds with a finesse that belies his size. The dentist starts to stitch up Plankton's gums, the needle moving in and out. The dentist steps back, wiping his hands clean. "Everything went perfectly," he says. "We're just going to keep him asleep for a little while longer, let him rest." Karen nods. The assistant starts to cleanup. Karen's glued to the gauze in Plankton's mouth, now soaked a deep red. She watches as the crimson stain spreads through the fabric, the evidence of his pain and endurance. The room feels hot, the pressure of her concern thickening the water around them. The dentist's assistant notices her distress and offers a kind smile. "He'll be ok," she whispers. Ignoring the instructions to remain silent, Karen leans in closer, reaching out to caress Plankton's cheek. "You're doing great, honey," she whispers, though she knows he can't hear. "You're so brave." She whispers to him again, her voice a soothing melody that fills the otherwise sterile space. "You're going to wake up soon, and it will all be over," Karen tells. The room seems to hold its breath. Karen can feel the gentle tug of Plankton's hand in hers, a silent response to her comforting words. She watches the slow rise and fall of his chest. "You won't remember this, Plankton," she whispers, "but I will. I'll remember how brave you are, even when you don't know it. You know how you always say size doesn't matter?" she says. "Well, I'm here to tell you that even when you're asleep and can't hear, you're still the biggest in my heart. You've got this, Plankton," she whispers. "You're going to wake up, and it'll all be over. And when you do, we'll go back to the Chum Bucket, and you can tell me all about your latest scheme. And I'll smile, and laugh, and pretend to be surprised, just like I always do." The dentist checks Plankton's vital signs and nods to the nurse, who starts to prepare him for waking. "The sedative will wear off soon," Karen tells him, voice low and soothing. "But for now, just rest, my love." She squeezes his hand gently. The assistant nods in agreement and begins to prepare the room for Plankton's recovery. Karen's watching as the sedatives keep him blissfully unaware of the world around him, his mouth slightly open and drooling in to the gauze and down his chin. The sight is both heartbreaking and comforting, a strange mix of vulnerability and strength. She finds herself lost in the rhythm of his breaths, the only sign of life in the otherwise quiet surgery room. The gauze in Plankton's mouth is only a hint of pink. The nurse enters with a gentle smile. "We're going to start bringing him around now," she says. Plankton's snores become less deep. "You did so well, Plankton," Karen says, stroking his forehead. "You're almost done." As the anesthesia begins to wear off, Plankton's eye flicker open but unfocused, lost in a world between sleep and wakefulness. "Hey Plankton," Karen says, her voice a warm embrace. "You're all done. You were so brave." "Mmf," he murmurs. "Whath's 'ppening?" The dentist chuckles lightly. "Just anesthetics wearing off, Mr. Plankton. Your mouth might be a bit numb." Plankton's eye widen, and he tries to speak again, but all that comes out is a series of unintelligible sounds. "Mmph...whath...whath's?" he stammers, voice muffled by the gauze. Karen laughs gently. "Your numb, sweetie," she explains with care. "You're slurring your words a bit." Plankton tries to speak again, his voice still a garbled mess. "Bh-but...my...my...moth," he mumbles. "You're just a bit sleepy," Karen giggles, reaching to gently wipe the drool from his chin. The sight of her husband, normally so sharp and scheming, now reduced to a blubbering mess.
AUTISM IN THE PLANKTON FAMILY iii (Autistic author) Karen picked him up, and carried his limp form to his bed. She stood there for a moment, watching his chest rise and fall. The snores grew quieter as sleep consumed him. The weight of what had just happened settled on her shoulders. Karen lay him down gently. She tucked him in, his antennae resting against the pillow. The room was quiet except for his soft snores, a stark contrast to the chaos that had filled it moments before. Karen sat by his side, her hand on his arm. After a few moments, she stood up and walked to the door, closing it gently behind her. She found Hanna in the living room, her eyes red-rimmed and worried. "Hanna, I need to talk to you," Karen said, her voice firm but not accusing. Hanna looked up, her expression hopeful for guidance. Karen sat beside her, her eyes on her own hands, which were fidgeting in her lap. "Plankton's been through a lot," she began, her voice measured. "He's different now." Hanna nodded, her eyes wide with unspoken questions. "Still coming to terms with it but you're just fine. It's a rarity, yet he'll be fine." "I guess I'll head out. I never meant to cause Plankton distress." Karen nodded, her eyes still on her fidgeting hands. "Thank you for understanding. I'm pretty sure he knows you didn't mean to, but I can still tell him when he wakes up." Hanna left, and Karen went back to the bedroom. Plankton was still asleep, his breathing steady and peaceful. Karen sat by the bed. Plankton's snores were the only sound in the room, a gentle reminder of the peace that sleep brought him from his tumultuous world of heightened senses. Karen took a deep breath, her thoughts racing. This was their new normal, a dance of understanding and patience they would have to learn. When Plankton next woke up, his eye searched the room, his antennae twitching slightly. He looked over to find Karen sitting in a chair beside the bed, her gaze on him. "Hi," she said, her voice gentle. He sat up slowly, the fabric of the bed rustling beneath his weight. "How are you feeling?" Karen's concern was palpable, her eyes scanning his face for any signs of distress. Plankton took a deep breath, trying to organize his thoughts. Karen's presence was a balm to his soul, her understanding a lifeline in the storm of sensory input. "Where's Hanna?" Karen sighed, her gaze never leaving his face. "She left, sweetie. You were a bit...overwhelmed." Plankton nodded, his antennae twitching with the memory of the sensory assault. "It's okay," Karen assured him, her voice a soft whisper. "She just didn't understand, and felt bad for the way she treated you." Plankton nodded, his antennae still. The room was quiet, a stark contrast to the chaos from before. He took a moment to collect himself, his thoughts racing. "Sorry," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. Karen reached out and took his hand, her grip firm but gentle. "You have nothing to apologize for," she said, her tone soothing. "This is all new to us. Would you like to eat?" Plankton nodded. "I'll get you something quiet and simple," Karen said, standing up. She knew that too much stimulation could send him spiraling. In the kitchen, she prepared a snack of plain crackers. She placed the plate on the table carefully, not wanting to startle his heightened senses again. Plankton entered the room, his movements deliberate and slow. He sat down across from her, his eye darting around the room. "It's ok," Karen reassured him, handing him the plate of crackers. "Just food." "Just food. It's ok; just food." He repeats back to himself, focusing on the plate. Each cracker was a tiny square of safety, a familiar comfort in a sea of sensory uncertainty. He took a deep breath and selected one. The taste was comforting, a reminder of a simpler time. Karen watched him, her screen filled with love. Plankton took a sip of water, his eye never leaving hers. "It's ok just food," he said again, his voice still low. "Karen good and good food. It's ok." Karen nodded, her smile a mix of relief and sadness. She knew his echolalic tendencies was the autism, but she's glad he likes the food as well. They sat in silence, the only sound the crunch of crackers and the occasional sip of water. Plankton's eye focused on the cracker in his hand, the patterns on the surface a comfort. His autistic brain craved the predictability, the sameness that calmed his nerves. This was the man she knew, yet he was different. The Plankton who was always plotting and scheming was now one who found comfort in the mundane. His mind felt clearer now, the overwhelming chaos of the earlier encounter with Hanna beginning to fade. Karen watched him, her heart breaking for the silent struggle she knew he faced every moment. "I'll talk to Hanna," she said gently. "I'll explain. What do you want me to tell her? What'd you like for her to know?" Plankton's gaze remained on the cracker, his thumb tracing the edge. "Tell her sorry," he mumbled. "What else? I mean, is it ok if I tell her you're autistic now? Or what about the accident that lead to the autism?" Plankton's antennae twitched at the word 'accident', his mind reeling with memories of the stove, the fight with Mr. Krabs, the pain. But he nodded slowly. "Ok," he murmured. Karen's heart ached at the simplicity of his response. The complexity of his thoughts was now a tightly guarded secret, hidden behind a wall of sensory overload. "Okay, I will," Karen said, her voice soft. "But remember, it's ok to be different." Plankton nodded, his eye still on his food. But as he took another cracker, he paused. He looked up, his gaze locking with hers. "Karen," he said, his voice a little stronger now. "I, I l-love you." Karen's eyes widened at the sudden declaration. "Oh, Plankton," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I love you too." Plankton nodded, his gaze never leaving hers. "Karen making everything okay," he murmured. He took another cracker, his hands shaking slightly. "You make Plankton feel safe," he continues with sincerity. "In a world that's too much, Karen not too much." Karen's eyes filled with tears at his heartfelt words. She reached across the table and took his hand. "Plankton, I'm here for you. Always." Plankton's antennae stopped twitching. He looked into her screen, his own filled with a depth of emotion that hadn't seen before. "You good, Karen," he said, his voice steady. "Helping Plankton." Plankton was finding his way to express himself, to connect with her in a way that was meaningful. She squeezed his hand. "I'll always help you," she promised. "Karen," Plankton began, his voice tentative. He took a deep breath, trying to find the words. "I love you, Karen," he said finally, his eye intense with feeling. Karen swelled with love and pride. Despite his struggles, Plankton was learning to express his emotions in a way that made sense to him. It was a victory, small but significant. "Thank you, Plankton," she said, squeezing his hand. "Your love makes me happy." His antennae twitched slightly, a sign of his awkwardness with the emotional exchange. The room was quiet, the only noise the soft sound of their breathing and the occasional crunch of a cracker. Plankton's eye searched hers, looking for reassurance. "Plankton need...space," he managed, his voice shaky. "Too...much emotional interaction. Still love." Karen nodded, understanding dawning. "Okay, sweetie," she said, releasing his hand. "I'll be right here. Take all the time you need."
SPOT AND THE JELLYFISH CIRCUS "Will it hurt?" Plankton asks. The dentist administer anesthesia. "There, might feel funny for a while you fall asleep." Plankton's mind started to wander conjuring random thoughts. "Karen, you think abou- opening a jellyfish circus?" he giggled, words slurred by anesthesia. Karen smiled. "Jellyfish juggling jellies and seahorse trapeze artists," he continued, eye twinkled with a child like wonder as he imagined. The dentist chuckled as he prepared. "I'm sure it'd be quite the show, Plankton," he said. "And hav- a sea cucumber clown car! They squish in and out, all fish laugh!" Plankton's giggles grew, speech slurring a jumble of words. "Oooh, look at the squid in the corner," he pointed with a wobbly hand. "It's playing the accordion with tentacles! It's so... squishy!" The anesthesia was working. "And the star of the show," Plankton announced dramatically, "would be a dolphin... riding a dolphin! They'd do flips and twirls and... and... and synchronized bubble blowing!" Karen'd never seen him like this before. "What's next?" Plankton's body grew limp, eye glazed over and his words became gentle, rhythmic mumble. "Oh, octopus tightrope walker," Plankton murmured, eyelid growing heavier. "Wearing a top hat... and... hat!" His voice faded to a soft chuckle. Karen kissed Plankton's forehead."I'm here." The nurse leaned closer, voice hushed. "It's almost time for the extraction," she said. "You'll be feeling sleepy." Plankton nods, eye half-closed as anesthesia tightened grip. The world grew fuzzier, distant, muffled by thick blanket of sedation enveloped. "Don't forget clownfish," he mumbled now barely coherent. "They'd juggle... jellyfish... jellyfish... jellyfish... jellyfish..." "Plankton, you're gonna start falling asleep," Plankton nodded, eye fully closed. "Jellyfish... juggling... so... beautiful." His voice was distant whisper. "Don't worry," Karen assured, her hand stroking his as his mind drifted further into the abyss of anesthesia. "And the... the... jellyfish... they're... Why's everyth-ing... so... slow?" Plankton's words trailed off in to gentle snore as his mind succumbed to the anesthesia's embrace. He stilled, breathing now deep and even. The nurse checked monitors, nodding in satisfaction. "He's out. Let's get started." Plankton's snores grew deeper. His chest rose and fell, dreamless sleep continued, uninterrupted, blissfully unaware of extraction, his mouth slightly open as gentle sounds of his snoring filled the room. The once-trembling now lay still against his chair. Whence surgery complete, the nurse dabbed Plankton's mouth with putting gauze the extraction sites. The anesthesia done its job, leaving him completely unaware of the procedure. The dentist sutured gum, swift and precise. "He'll be out for another twenty minutes or so," the dentist said, placing the last stitch with a gentle precision. "The anesthesia wear off gradually." Karen nodded, hand still in Plankton's. "Thank you, Doctor," she said. "He's going to be just fine," he assured her, smile warm comforting. "He'll be back to his usual self though you can expect him to still be under lingering influence of anesthesia, as he may act funny for today." Karen nodded, unable to resist press another gentle kiss to Plankton's forehead. "Thank you," she whispered. Karen took the opportunity. "Hey, Plankton," she called softly, her voice a gentle lilt. "Wake up, sweetie. It's all done." Plankton's antennae twitched slightly. "C'mon, Plankton," Karen cooed. "Time to wake. Spot is waiting for you back at the Chum Bucket." Plankton stirred, snores morphing. "Spot... jellyfish... circus... Amoeba puppy... circus...?" "That's right, first, you need to wake. Can you for me?" "Jellyfish... juggling... so... sleepy," he murmured. Karen watched closer. Plankton's snores grew quieter. "Jug...gling... jellyfish... Spot?" His voice was a faint rumble. His eye fluttered open, revealing a dazed look as he finally woke. "Wha... whath 'appen?" "Your wisdom teeth came out, Plankton," she said. "You been sleeping through. You had quite the dream coming out of it, it seems," she said, her voice filled with affectionate amusement. Plankton blinked, circus slowly fading from his mind. He looked around coming back. "Jellyfish... circus?" he mumbled, voice thick with remnants of anesthesia. Karen chuckled and squeezed his hand. "You were talking about it," she said with mirth. "It was quite the show." Plankton tried to sit up. "Easy now," she said. "Take it slow. You might feel woozy." With the doctor's nod, Karen helped Plankton up, arm supporting his wobbly frame. As they left, he leaned heavily on Karen as they made their way to the car. Once in the passenger seat, Plankton leaned back, eye fluttering. "Jellyfish circus..." he mumbled to himself, slurred and faint. Karen's pulling out of the parking lot. Plankton's eyelid grew heavier, the gentle sway of the car lulling him in and out of sleep. "Jellyfish... so... floaty," he mumbled. "And the... the sea cucumber car... it squished." "Still thinking about your circus, huh?" Karen said, glancing. Plankton's eye remained closed. "Mmhmm," he murmured. "The squid... playing... accordion... so... squishy. And starfish acrobats," he murmured, dreamy. "They'd spin... so fast... like... like... jellyfish... jellyfish..." His head lolled to the side, snoring interrupting the flow of his thoughts. "It's doing... it's doin’ the waltz... underwater... waltz... with jellyfish... so... so graceful." His voice grew softer with each word until it was a mere murmur, and then silence fell, broken only by the gentle sounds of his occasional snore. Karen glanced over at him. "I think you've had enough circus for today," she said. Plankton's snores grew more frequent. Karen's smile grew as she drove. The sight of her husband's twitching and his mouth moving in sleep was a peculiarly endearing sight. As they pulled into the Chum Bucket's parking lot, Plankton stirred. Karen helped him out of the car, his legs wobbly and unsteady as they made their way into their home. Spot, the amoeba puppy, oozed his way over, his single-celled body moving with surprising grace. He wagged his tiny gelatinous tail, his simple eyes lighting up with joy. Plankton's slurred words grew clearer as he saw Spot. "Hey ther- buddy," he mumbled, hand reaching out to pat the blob-like creature. "Jellyfish circus. Can you juggle?" Spot stared up at him. He didn't have tentacles but that didn't stop Plankton's imaginative ramblings. "You'd be the besht juggling in the whole circus." He leaned down to tickle the amoeba's blob-like body. "Wouldn't you, boy?" Spot oozed closer, his gelatinous body quivering in response to the attention. He looked up at Plankton seemingly understanding. "Let's get you to bed," Karen said, guiding him with a firm but gentle touch, Plankton still not fully under his control. "Look, Karen, the... the... jellyfish are... are... dancing!" His laugh was soft, sleepy chuckle. She helped him, propping his head up. Spot hopped onto the bed and curled up next to him, a comforting presence. "Now you stay put, and let those teeth heal." Plankton nodded, his eye already drifting shut again. "Jellyfish... circus... so... so... restful," he mumbled. Karen pulled the blankets up and kissed him on the forehead. "Sleep tight, sweetie," she whispered. Eventually, Plankton blinked his eye open. His mouth felt thick and strange, gauze a foreign presence. He looked around, his gaze landing on Spot, under his arm. "Wha... whath... happen'd?" Karen looked up. "You're awake," she said. "How do you feel?" He reached up to feel his mouth. "Don't," Karen warned gently, placing her hand on his. "You're ok, Plankton. You had wisdom teeth removed." He nodded, the memory of the jellyfish circus faded. "Thath... that was... was... today?" Drool pools at the corner of Plankton's mouth as he blinked groggily, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Karen nods. "Yes, it was," she said, voice soothing. "You've been out for a while. Do you remember anything?" Plankton's eye squinted as he tried to recall. "No," he murmured. "It's all... blurry. I remember being in the dentist's chair." He shifted his weight moving awkwardly as the gauze in his mouth made speaking difficult. "What... what after that?" "You talked about a jellyfish circus." Plankton's eye widened slightly. "Jellyfish... circus? Absurd!" he murmured, trying to remember attempt to pull memories from depths of subconscious. "I... don't remember that." Karen chuckled, her voice a gentle reminder of his delirious ramblings. Plankton slumped in embarrassment. "I... I must've been out of my mind," he said, his voice still thick with the aftermath. "But it was also kind of sweet seeing you relaxed and happy." "I... I don't even know whewe that came from," he murmured. "Hope no one else heard," he mumbled, his voice muffled by the gauze. "Do you need anything?" Karen asked. "Just... rest," Plankton murmured, eye shut again. Karen stood up and went to the kitchen, her mind racing with the rare glimpse into the whimsical side of the usually cunning and scheming Plankton. She grabbed a bowl of chum and a spoon, making sure it was soft enough for him to eat. When she returned, Plankton was still, chest rising and falling with the steady rhythm of sleep. She set the bowl down on the nightstand and took a seat next to the bed, never leaving his face. The room was quiet, save for his occasional snore. Karen sat by the bedside, watching Plankton sleep. "Jellyfish circus," she murmured to herself, a smile playing. "Who knew you had such imagination..."
iya bayagulli 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂
ᴰᵉⁿᵗⁱˢᵗ ᴬᵖᵖᵒⁱⁿᵗᵐᵉⁿᵗ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ Part 2 ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ʸᵉˢᵗᵉʳᵈᵃʸ'ˢ ᵒʳᵃˡ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉʳʸ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒʷ ʷᵒᵏᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰ ˢᵒʳᵉ ᵃᶜʰᵉˢ⸴ ⁿᵒ ᵗʳᵃᶜᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ˢᵉᵈᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ˡᵉᶠᵗ‧ ᴴⁱˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵉᵉˢ ʰⁱᵐ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ⁿᵒʷ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰᵉʸ⸴ ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ˢⁱᵗ?" ᴮᵘᵗ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵘⁿᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃⁿᵃᵍᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵘᵖ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵇᵃᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ‧ 'ᴹʸ ᶠᵃᶜᵉ⸴ ʷᵃⁱᵗ ᵐʸ ᵈᵉⁿᵗⁱˢᵗ ᵃᵖᵖᵒⁱⁿᵗᵐᵉⁿᵗ‧‧‧' ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ ⁿᵒʷ‧ "ᴰᵒᵉˢ ⁱᵗ ʰᵘʳᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃˡᵏ? ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵍᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ⁱᶜᵉ‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ⸴ ʳᵉᵗʳⁱᵉᵛⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ⁱᶜᵉ‧ 'ᴵ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᴵ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈⁱᵈ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵐʸ ʷⁱˢᵈᵒᵐ‧‧‧' ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏˢ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗʳᵃⁱˡˢ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᶜᵒᵒˡ ˢᵉⁿˢᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʳᵉᵐᵒᵛᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵃᵘᶻᵉ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ˡᵃˢᵗ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵒˡᵈ ᵍᵃᵘᶻᵉ ᵈʳⁱᵖˢ ʳᵉᵈ ᵈʳᵒᵖˢ ᵒⁿ ᵃ ᵗᵒʷᵉˡ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵈᵒᵉˢⁿ'ᵗ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵍᵉᵗˢ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃ ⁿᵉʷ ᵒⁿᵉ‧ "ᴴᵒʷ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ⁱᶜᵉ ᶜʳᵉᵃᵐ ᵒʳ ᵃ ᵈʳⁱⁿᵏ ᵒᶠ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ? ᴼʳ ᵇᵒᵗʰ? ᴺᵒ?" "ᴵ ʰ⁻⁻⁻ʰᵘʳᵗⁱⁿᵍ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷⁱⁿᶜᵉᵈ⸴ ʷᵒʳˢᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ʳᵉᶠᵉʳʳᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃᵐᵖʰˡᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ‧ "ᴵᵗ'ˢ ⁿᵒʳᵐᵃˡ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃᵐᵖʰˡᵉᵗ ˢᵃʸˢ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗˢ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱᶜᵉ ˢᵒᵒᵗʰᵉˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ᶠᵃˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜʳⁱᵉˢ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵘʳⁿˢ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʳᵉᵃᶜʰᵉˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵃʳᵐˢ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ ˡⁱᵏᵉ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷⁱˢʰᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵇʸ ʰⁱᵐ ⁿᵒʷ‧ "ᴴᵘᵍᵍˡᵉ‧" 'ᴴᵘᵍᵍˡʸ?' "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ᵈ ʰᵘᵍᵍˡᵉ‧" ᔆʰᵉ ᵍᵉᵗˢ ᵇʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃˡˡᵒʷᵉᵈ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃⁿᵒᵉᵘᵛʳᵉ ʰᵉʳ ᵃʳᵐ ʰᵒʷ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗᵃᵇˡᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵐᵒᵛᵉᵈ ʰᵉʳ ᵗʰᵘᵐᵇ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵒʳᵗʰ ᵒⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵒᵒᵗʰᵉ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁱⁿˢᵗᵃⁿᵗˡʸ ˢᵃʷ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ⁿᵒʷ⸴ ᵉᵛᵉⁿᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᶠᵃˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ ᴸᵉᵃⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵍᵃᵘᶻᵉ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ˢᵒ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵈⁱˢᵖᵒˢᵉᵈ ᵒᶠ ⁱᵗ‧ 'ᴺᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵈ ᵃⁿʸ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᴵ ˢᵉᵉ' ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ⸴ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ ⁿᵒ ˡᵒⁿᵍᵉʳ ᵇˡᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵃˢ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃʸᵉᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵈᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵒᵛᵉ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ˢʰᵉ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱᶜᵉ ᵇᵉᵍⁱⁿⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ᵐᵉˡᵗⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒ ˢʰᵉ ᵖᵘᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠʳᵉᵉᶻᵉʳ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃˢ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ⸴ ᶜᵃʳᵉᶠᵘˡˡʸ ᵍᵉⁿᵗˡᵉ ˢᵒ ᵃˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵈⁱˢᵗᵘʳᵇ ⁿᵒʳ ʰᵘʳᵗ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᵇʳᵒʷ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᶠᵘʳʳᵒʷᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶜᵒⁿᵗⁱⁿᵘᵉˢ ˢⁿᵒʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ⁱᶠ ˢʰᵉ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ˡᵉᶠᵗ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉᵈ‧ ᴺᵒᵗ ᵐⁱⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈʳᵒᵒˡ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃᶜᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵉⁿʲᵒʸᵉᵈ ˡⁱˢᵗᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃʸ ʰᵉ ˢⁿᵒʳᵉᵈ⸴ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ˢᵒ ᵍˡᵃᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ‧ end finale
"Honey, did you take out the trash?" Karen called out to the living room. The only reply was the distant sound of the TV playing a sitcom laugh track. She sighed. Going into the living room, Karen found her husband, Plankton, sprawled out on the couch, snoring lightly. The TV's blue light flickered over his face. She looked around the room, the piles of laundry, the dusty bookshelves, and the half-eaten sandwich on the coffee table. It was a mess, but she knew better than to wake him. Plankton had been working long hours at the chum factory lately, trying to make ends meet. His snoring grew louder, and she felt a wave of affection mixed with concern. Gently, she covered his legs with a blanket and bent to kiss his forehead. He stirred slightly but didn't wake up. In the kitchen, Karen grabbed a cup of coffee, the warmth and aroma grounding her for the evening ahead. The fridge hummed a low lullaby, reminding her of the chores left to do. The sink was full of dirty dishes, remnants of dinner. A pot with half-eaten chum congealed on the stovetop. Karen rolled up her sleeves, determined to tackle the chaos. She knew Plankton was exhausted from work. The clanking of pots and pans echoed through the tiny kitchen as she washed and sorted, her mind racing with thoughts of their future. A knock at the door startled her. She dried her hands on a towel, leaving wet spots like tears on the fabric. It was Hanna, her best friend since high school. Karen had not seen Hanna in weeks, and the sight of her brought a smile. Hanna was a burst of energy. "Hi, Karen! How's it going?" Hanna's voice was a mix of sweetness and the sharpness of someone who had seen too much of the world. She scanned the room, taking in the clutter, the stale smell of overworked air, and Plankton's snoring. "Hey, Hanna," Karen managed, her voice soft to not disturb his sleep. "It's been a bit hectic, but we're making do." Hanna stepped in, eyeing the mess sympathetically. "Looks like you could use a hand," she said, already grabbing a dish towel. Karen's smile grew. "You read my mind. Thanks." Hanna tossed the towel over her shoulder, ready to jump into the fray. "You know me," she said with a wink. "I've never been one to shy away from a mess." The two of them worked side by side, the rhythm of their movements harmonizing as they cleared the kitchen. Karen felt the tension in her shoulders begin to ease as Hanna filled the room with stories of her latest adventures, a welcome distraction from the monotony of chores. As the last plate was put away, the fridge closed with a satisfying click, Karen leaned against the counter. Hanna looked at her. "You've been carrying a lot, haven't you?" she asked, her voice gentle. Karen nodded, her eyes welling up. "It's just that with Plankton's job, and the bills..." Hanna pulled her into a tight hug. "I know, sweetie. You're doing the best you can." They sat down in the living room, the clean kitchen a testament to their friendship's strength. Hanna's screen searched Karen's for a sign of the spark that used to be there. "I can't remember the last time we went out together," Hanna said. "You two deserve a break." Karen's screen lit up at the suggestion, but quickly dimmed. "We can't afford it," she said, sighing. "Not with the overtime Plankton's been doing." Hanna leaned in, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Well, I might have a little surprise for you," she said. Karen looked up, curiosity piqued. "What do you mean?" Hanna pulled out a small envelope from her pocket and handed it to her friend. "A gift," she said with a sly smile. "A check from my winning lottery ticket." Karen's eyes widened as she opened the envelope. "Hanna, no!" she protested. "You can't just give us your winnings!" Hanna's smile didn't waver. "I can, and I want to. You've been there for me through everything. It's about time I returned the favor. Besides," she said with a wink, "what's a little chum between friends?" Karen's hands trembled as she read the check. It was more than enough to cover their rent and bills for several months. Tears slipped down her cheeks, and she hugged Hanna tightly. "Thank you," she whispered. The weight of financial stress lifted slightly from her shoulders, replaced by a warmth that spread through her chest. For a moment, the world didn't seem so overwhelming. Hanna pulled back, her own eyes shining with unshed tears. "Now, don't spend it all in one place," she teased. Karen laughed, the sound small but genuine. "I won't," she promised, the check clutched in her hand. "We'll use it wisely." The two of them sat quietly for a while, enjoying the rare moment of peace. The TV had switched to the news, and the low murmur of the anchor's voice filled the room. Plankton's snoring had become a comforting white noise. Hanna looked at Plankton, her expression thoughtful. "You know, I've always admired the way you take care of him," she said. "It can't be easy." Karen nodded, her thumb tracing the edges of the check. "It's not," she admitted. "But he's my Plankton. I love him, even when he's exhausting." Her gaze drifted to the sleeping form of her husband. Plankton's snores grew more even, his face finally relaxed. The lines of stress that usually pinched his features had smoothed out in sleep. Karen knew that Plankton had always dreamed of more than his life at the chum factory could offer. He was a man of ambition, his spirit too large for the cramped quarters they called home. Her thoughts turned to the gift from Hanna. The check represented more than just money; it was a beacon of hope that maybe, just maybe, they could finally start working towards those dreams.
AUTISM IN THE PLANKTON FAMILY i (Autistic author) Karen's husband, Plankton, was arguing with Mr. Krabs as usual. They've had their fair share of disputes over the years, but this one seemed to be escalating fast. Without warning, Mr. Krabs swung the stove from his kitchen with all his might. It connected with a sickening thud against Plankton's head. Karen gasped as her husband crumpled to the ground. Plankton's eye had rolled back and closed, his body going still as Mr. Krabs left back. Karen knelt beside Plankton and gently tapped his cheek. "Wake up," she murmured, voice trembling. No response. She tried again, her voice a little louder. "Honey, can you hear me?" Plankton's eye remained closed, his antennae limp. Panic began to creep in. Her mind raced with possibilities, each more frightening than the last. What if his tiny brain had been damaged? What if he was in a coma? What if he never woke up? She cradled his minuscule form. The room grew silent as the gravity of the situation sank in, willing Plankton to stir. A tear trickled down her screen. Karen felt for a pulse. It was there, faint but steady. She let out a sigh of relief and picked his tiny body up, cradling him carefully. "I've got to get him to a doctor," she thought. She held Plankton's hand as they performed a brain scan. Karen sat by her husband's side as the machines around Plankton beeped and whirred. The sterile smell of the hospital filled, and the cold white walls seemed to press in around them. Plankton's lying still on the hospital bed. A thick bandage was wrapped around his head, and various tubes connected him to monitors that displayed a symphony of lines and numbers, none of which meant anything to her. She squeezed his hand gently, willing him to wake up. The doctor walked into the room, his lab coat fluttering slightly as he moved. He held a clipboard carefully in his tentacles, studying the information with a furrowed brow. "Mrs. Plankton," he began, his voice soft, "We've finished scans. The good news is that it's not life- threatening. However, we've noticed some sustained atypical brain activity." Karen's eyes widened. "What does that mean?" she asked, her grip on Plankton's hand tightening. The doctor sighed, his expression sympathetic. "Autism. His behavior may change. He might become more focused on his routines, have difficulty with social interactions, and exhibit sensory sensitivity. It's permanent, and no cure. We expect him to wake up soon. We'll ask him some questions to assess and then you can take him home." Karen felt her heart drop. She knew about autism, had read about it in magazines, but never thought it would affect her own family. The doctor left the room, and she was alone with her thoughts, watching Plankton's chest rise and fall as they remove the bandage. The hours ticked by in agonizing slowness as she sat there, praying for him to wake up. The only sounds were the rhythmic beeping of the monitors and the occasional muffled conversations from the hallway. Finally, Plankton's eyelid fluttered. He groaned softly, and his hand twitched in hers. Karen leaned in, hope surging through her. "Plankton?" she whispered, her voice thick with emotion as she smiled through her tears. "I'm here," she said, voice shaky. "You're in the hospital, but you're ok." Plankton's eye opened, squinting in the bright lights. He looked around the room, confusion etched on his tiny face. Slowly, his gaze landed on Karen. "What happened?" he croaked, his voice weak. "Mr. Krabs hit you with a stove," Karen explained, her voice a mix of relief and sadness. "They diagnosed you with acquired Autism." The doctor approached with a gentle nod. "Plankton, can you tell me your name?" he asked, ready to jot down notes. Plankton's eye searched the room, finally settling on Karen. "Sheldon Jay Plankton." Karen's grip on his hand tightened offering silent encouragement. The doctor nodded and proceeded with questions. "Tell me when you're born?" "July 31, 1999 10:16.08 am ET!" Karen felt a twinge of pride at her husband's precise answer. The doctor nodded, scribbling something on his clipboard. "Tell me more about yourself.." "More about yourself." Plankton echoed. The doctor's offering a gentle smile. "Echolalia. It's a trait that's common in individuals with autism. It can help him process information. Well Plankton has no need for therapy, yet you may want to adjust your daily lives to accommodate. You're free to go!" The drive back to the Chum Bucket was silent, the weight of the diagnosis pressing down on Karen's shoulders. He was quiet too, his eye fixed on the passing scenery. He didn't seem to notice the difference in himself, but Karen knew their lives were changed. Once home, Karen helped Plankton into his favorite chair, surrounded by his inventions and gadgets. The room was a mess, but it was his sanctuary, and she didn't want to disturb it. He seemed more at ease, his eye flicking from one object to another with a sense of familiarity. Would Plankton be the same? Would he still laugh at her jokes, or get angry at the Krabby Patty secret formula? Plankton remained silent, his gaze still locked on his surroundings. Karen felt a pang of worry. Would his obsessive nature become more pronounced? "It's getting late, Plankton." Karen's voice was soft as she guided him to their bedroom. He followed without protest, his movements mechanical. She helped him into bed, pulling the blankets up to his chin with a gentle tuck. Plankton lay there, staring at the ceiling, his thoughts a swirl of confusion. "Do you need anything?" she asked, her voice a gentle hum in the quiet room. "Stay, Karen stay." He says. Karen nodded, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. "Of course, I'll stay," she assured him, trying to keep her voice steady. She took his hand again, feeling the warmth of his palm against hers. She didn't know what the future held, but she knew she'd be by his side. As Plankton's breathing evened out into the rhythm of sleep, Karen sat there, watching him. She noticed how his grip on her hand had loosened, but didn't dare move. The next day, Karen woke before Plankton did. She hovered over him, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest. How was she going to wake him up without startling him? She knew that sudden noises could be overwhelming for him now. Karen took a different approach. She stroked his arm with a feather-light touch. His eye brow flinched. Next, she tried speaking his name, starting with a whisper and gradually getting louder. "Plankton," she called, "It's time to wake up." His eyelid twitched, and he blinked his eye open. He looked around. "Karen?" he asked. She nodded with a smile. "Good morning, honey," she said softly. "How are you feeling?" Plankton sat up slowly, his antennae twitching as he took in his surroundings. "Different," he murmured, rubbing his temple. "We're home, Plankton. Remember what happened?" He nodded, his eye glazed over for a moment. "Krabs. The stove." "Yes, but you're ok now," Karen reassured, stroking his cheek with her finger. Plankton nodded again, his antennae twitching nervously. Karen noticed that his movements were more deliberate, his gaze more intense. She decided to keep things simple to avoid overwhelming him with too much information at once. "Let's get breakfast," she suggested. Plankton followed her into the kitchen, his steps slower than usual. The clanking of pans and the sizzle of oil had always been a familiar symphony in their home, but today it felt alien, like a disturbance to his newly heightened senses. Karen moved around the kitchen with precision, keeping the noises to a minimum. As she prepared their meal, Plankton stood by the counter, his gaze fixed. "Breakfast is ready," she said, sliding a plate of chum flapjacks in front of him. The smell usually brought him joy, but today it was overwhelming. Plankton took a step back. Karen's smile faltered, realizing she would have to adjust their meals. "Would you like something else?" she asked, her voice a soothing melody. Plankton nodded, his gaze not leaving the plate. "Different," he whispered. Karen knew she had to find foods that wouldn't overstimulate. She placed the flapjacks aside and found a jar of pureed peas and plain yogurt. She hoped the blandness would be more soothing. Plankton's antennae twitched as he came closer. He stared at the bowl intently, then took a tentative spoonful. The texture was soothing, and the color was calming. He ate slowly, each bite measured and deliberate. Karen watched him with love and concern. She wanted to ask if he liked it, but she knew better than to interrupt his focus. Once Plankton had finished, he looked up at her with a hint of a smile. "Good," he said. It was the closest thing to praise she had heard from him since the incident. Karen cleared the table, her mind racing with questions about what the future held. How would Plankton's new autism affect their daily lives? "Now what would you like to do, Plankton?" She asks. He looks at her. "Read." The old spark seems to flicker back to life, albeit with a different intensity. Karen nods, leading him back to his lab. The room is a mess of wires and gadgets, but Plankton moves through it with purpose. He selects a book from the shelf, a manual on quantum physics that had been collecting dust. His gaze flits over the pages, absorbing the information with fervor. Karen watches him from a distance. This was her Plankton, but also new. His obsession with the Krabby Patty formula had always been intense, but now his focus was lasered in on the book, his mind racing through equations and theories. The room was silent except for the soft rustle of pages turning. Plankton didn't look up from his book, lost in a world of science and theories. Karen knew she had to let him be, to find his new normal.
If you'd like to report a bug or suggest a feature, you can provide feedback here. Here's our privacy policy. Thanks!
AI Story Generator - AI Chat - AI Image Generator Free