ANTENNAE iii
The doctor emerged from the surgery room, a smile on his face. "The operation's a success," he announced.
"Plankton's as good as new. But remember, he'll be groggy at first."
Karen nodded. She went into the recovery room, and saw Plankton lying on the bed. She hovered beside him,
her hand reaching out to gently stroke his arm.
Leaning in close, she whispered, "You did it, Plankton. You're going to be ok." She watched his chest rise and
fall. "I know you might not hear me right now, but I just wanted to tell you how proud I am of you," she
continued. "You're so brave, facing this surgery head-on. When you wake up, everything will be back to
normal," she assured him. She leaned in closer, brushing against his cheek. "But promise me, ok?" she
whispered. "Promise me that you'll take it easy. I know you're driven, but you need to rest too. We'll figure this
out together."
The silence stretched on, the only sound the steady beep of the heart monitor and Plankton's gentle snores.
Tentacla hovered quietly beside Karen, gently stroking Plankton's arm. "He's going to be ok," she assured.
Karen's gaze remained fixed on Plankton. "You know, he's not always the villain everyone makes him out to be,"
she said softly. "He just wants to be successful, to be recognized for his genius."
Tentacla nodded, her tentacles gently stroking Plankton's bandaged antenna. "Everyone has their reasons,"
she murmured, reflecting understanding. "And sometimes, those reasons drive us to do things we might not
otherwise consider."
"We have each other, and that's all that truly matters."
Tentacla nodded sympathetically. "The anesthesia we use here is quite safe, but as with any medical
procedure, there can be side effects," she explained, her tentacles folding into a professional gesture. "Some
patients may experience a bit of disorientation or grogginess when they first wake. It's like the sea after a
storm, everything's a bit hazy and it takes a moment to find your bearings."
"What about... How might he act up?"
Tentacla nodded, her tentacles moving in a soothing pattern. "It's not uncommon for a patient to exhibit
varying emotions post-surgery," she explained. "Some may feel euphoric, while others might be a bit grumpy.
It's the body's way of coming out of the deep sleep the anesthesia induces."
"I can't imagine Plankton being euphoric.."
Tentacla nodded, her tentacles making a calming motion. "It's common," she assured her. "The anesthesia can
leave some patients feeling a bit... loopy, for lack of a better term. They might laugh or become overly friendly.
It's nothing to worry about, just a side effect of the medication wearing off."
The door to the recovery room slid open, and Dr. Dolittlefish poked his head in. "How's our patient?" he asked,
his eyes darting to Plankton's still form.
"He's stable," Tentacla reported, her tentacles still wrapped around Karen's arm. "The anesthesia is wearing off
nicely."
A soft groan pierced the quiet, and Plankton's eye fluttered open. His antennae twitched, and he felt a strange
sensation—like someone had wrapped them in sea kelp. He blinked a few times, trying to bring the world into
focus.
The first voice he heard was Tentacla's, her gentle tones a comforting lullaby in the alien landscape of the
recovery room.
"Plankton," she cooed, her tentacles moving in a soothing pattern. "You're all done."
Plankton's eye searched the room, his vision slowly clearing. He saw Karen, her LED eyes glowing with a mix
of relief and love. And there was Dr. Dolittlefish, his fin moving in a gesture of reassurance. And Tentacla, the
receptionist, with a gentle smile.
"W-where am I?" Plankton croaked, voice thick with sleep.
"You're in the recovery room, darling," Karen said, reaching for his hand. "You had surgery, on your antenna."
Plankton blinked again, trying to process the information. The pain was gone, replaced by a faint tingling
sensation. "Surgery?" he echoed, his voice still groggy.
"Yes, the operation was a success," Dr. Dolittlefish said, beaming down at him. "Your antenna is as good as
new. You'll be back to your usual self in no time."
The words swirled around Plankton like a school of confused fish. Surgery? He didn't remember anything after
the anesthesia. His mind felt like it was swimming through a cloud of bubbles. He blinked again, trying to
clear his vision, and finally focused on Karen's.
Her eyes, usually sharp with the glow of a focused computer screen, were soft and gentle. The warmth from
her holding his hand was like a cozy blanket in the chilly depths of the ocean.
"Is it over?" he mumbled, his voice still thick with the remnants of sleep.
"Yes, all done," Karen said. "You're going to be ok."
Plankton nodded, feeling the weight of his eyelids. "So tired," he mumbled. "Everything's fuzzy." The world
around him was a blur of colors and shapes, like looking through a foggy porthole. He yawned, his tiny body
stretching as much as it could. The drowsiness was like a warm blanket, wrapping him in a comforting
embrace.
With a gentle nod, Dr. Dolittlefish signaled to Karen that it was time to go. "Take him home and let him rest,"
the doctor instructed. "He's had a long day."
Karen nodded, her eyes flickering with concern as she helped Plankton into the car. His legs felt wobbly, like
jellyfish tentacles, and she had to almost carry him to the passenger seat. She settled him in, making sure the
seatbelt was snug around his tiny frame.
"I've got you," she said, her voice soothing. The engine of the car hummed to life, the bubbles from the exhaust
rising in a trail behind them as they ascended through the water. Plankton leaned his head against the
window, watching the world outside blur into a kaleidoscope of colors.
"Karen," he began, his eye half-closed. "I can't believe it's over. I feel like a dream."
"You've had quite the adventure," she said, navigating the car through the coral-lined streets of Bikini Bottom.
Plankton's antennae twitched with excitement, despite the drowsiness. "I guess so," he said, his voice trailing
off as he fought to keep his eye open. "I just want to get home and... and... and..." His voice trailed off into a
snore..
Karen chuckled, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. "You just want to get home and sleep," she finished
for him. "And I don't blame you. You've been through a lot."
As they drove, Plankton's snores grew more frequent, punctuating the quiet hum of the car. His mouth moved
as if he was talking in his sleep. Karen leaned closer, trying to make out what he was saying, but it was just a
jumble of mumbles and spluttering sounds. She had to bite her lip to keep from laughing; it was so unlike him
to be anything but fully conscious and scheming.
"... Krabby Patty... secret...," Plankton murmured.
Karen glanced over at him, a smile playing. "What's that, sweetie?" she asked, pretending not to hear the half-
formed words that hinted at his usual obsession.
"... SpongeBob... Krabs...," Plankton continued, his snores interrupting his own train of thought.
The car's movement rocked him like a lullaby, and he was out cold, snoring away.
"It's ok," she said, patting his hand gently. "You can tell me all about your grand plans when you wake up."
Plankton's snores grew deeper, and Karen couldn't help but feel a strange sense of satisfaction at the sight of
him finally at ease. Karen couldn't help but chuckle. "Looks like you're still thinking about the Krabby Patty,"
she said, her voice gentle. "But for now, let's just focus on getting you home and into bed."
"...blueprints..." he slurred, his eye rolling back in his head.
Karen sighed, a hint of amusement in her voice. "You and your blueprints. You'll have plenty of time to work on
those tomorrow."
The car pulled into the parking lot of the Chum Bucket, and Karen gently nudged Plankton awake. "We're
home," she said.
Plankton's eye fluttered open, and he took a moment to remember where he was. "Home," he murmured, his
antennae perking up slightly. "Already?"
"Already?" Karen echoed, raising an eyebrow. "You've been out cold for the entire drive."
Plankton looked around, blinking slowly.
"Come on," Karen said, unbuckling his seatbelt. "Let's get you inside."
With her help, Plankton stumbled out of the car, legs still wobbly from the anesthesia, Karen providing support
as they made their way through the door.
With a gentle nudge from Karen, he stumbled towards the bedroom.
"Careful, sweetie," Karen said, guiding him like a mother hen. She helped him into bed, the softness of the
pillow a stark contrast to the hard, cold floor of the Chum Bucket he was used to. He flopped onto his back with a sigh,
his eye drifting shut again.
"Karen..." Plankton mumbled, his voice trailing off as sleep claimed him once more.
He was already snoring lightly.
Karen sat beside him, stroking his antennae gently, watching his chest rise and fall. She waited, but his snores
grew steadier, deeper.
"I guess it's time for you to rest," she whispered, standing up. "But I'll be here when you wake up."
Karen looked around the cluttered room, her eyes landing on the ever-present stack of Krabby Patty blueprints
on the nightstand. With a sigh, she picked them up and set them aside, not wanting them to be the first thing
he saw when he woke. She knew how much plans consumed him.
Karen took a moment to appreciate the rare sight of Plankton at peace. His usually tense expression had
softened, and his antennae lay still on the pillow.
As she left the room, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of anxiety. The surgery had been successful, but she
knew the real battle would begin when he woke up and the painkillers wore off.