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."