Autistic Author Emojis & Text

https://perchance.org/ai-story-generator

James Potter was a peculiar boy with a head of unruly black hair and eyes so bright they could 
outshine the stars. He had a knack for turning the most mundane moments into grand 
adventures. Whether it was climbing the tallest tree in the schoolyard or racing his friends across 
the Quidditch pitch, his imagination knew no bounds. But even in the whirlwind of his escapades, 
there was one person who remained steadfastly out of reach: Lily Evans.

Lily was unlike anyone James had ever met. Her fiery red hair was a stark contrast to her soft, 
porcelain skin, and her eyes sparkled with a mix of intelligence and mischief. She was as fierce as 
a lioness and as graceful as a swan. Her laugh was like a melody that could charm the sternest of 
hearts, and it was a sound that James longed to hear directed at him. However, she had a 
tendency to dismiss his efforts with a roll of her eyes and a smirk that suggested she saw right 
through his bravado.

Severus Snape, on the other hand, was a solitary figure. He lurked in the shadows of the school 
corridors, his eyes darting like a snake's as he took in every detail. His black hair was always 
impeccably combed and his robes pristine, as if he had just stepped out of a dark wardrobe. 
Severus was a prodigy in the art of potions, his talents often overlooked due to his cold demeanor. 
Yet, beneath the surface, there was something about him that drew James in. Perhaps it was the 
hint of vulnerability that occasionally flickered across his face, or the way his eyes lit up when he 
spoke about the most obscure magical herbs.

The two boys moved in different circles, but they had one thing in common: a deep admiration for 
Lily. They watched her from afar, each imagining what it would be like to be the one to make her 
laugh genuinely or to capture her heart. But as the school year rolled on, their paths began to 
intertwine in ways they could never have anticipated. It was as if fate had a twisted sense of 
humor, throwing them together in situations that neither could escape. And as they found 
themselves drawn closer to Lily, a silent rivalry began to brew between them, a dance of longing 
glances and unspoken words.

James, ever the charmer, tried to win Lily over with his flashy Quidditch moves and cheeky grins. 
But Lily, ever the enigma, remained unimpressed. In his frustration, James took to teasing 
Severus, using his popularity to make the other boy's life bad. He'd steal his books, trip him in the 
halls, and whisper snide comments.

One rainy afternoon, as the school was dismissed for the day, James caught Severus crossing the 
crowded courtyard. He saw his chance and sneered, "Hey, Snapes, where's your broomstick?" His 
friends snickered, and Severus tensed, his eyes narrowing. Without waiting for a response, James 
conjured a water spray that drenched Severus' already soggy robes. The laughter grew louder as 
Severus stumbled away, the weight of his sodden clothes dragging him down.

In the Great Hall, James watched as Severus sat alone at the Slytherin table, his shoulders 
hunched over a book. He whispered to his friends, "Look at the lonely little snake," and they all 
burst into laughter again. Severus glanced up, his gaze sharp and piercing, but James felt no 
remorse. In fact, he felt a strange thrill, as if he was in control of something he never had been 
before. The power of ridicule was potent, and he wielded it with the same ease he did his wand.

Days turned into weeks, and James' pranks grew bolder. He'd jinx Severus' shoelaces to trip him 
up in the halls, replace his potion ingredients with foul-smelling dungbombs, and even cast a spell 
to make his robes shrink in the middle of class. Each time, Severus took the humiliation in silence, 
his eyes burning with a quiet anger that James found both fascinating and thrilling. It was a 
twisted game, but one James was determined to win.

But the more James bullied, the more he felt the knot in his stomach tighten. It wasn't just guilt; it 
was something else. He noticed the way Severus' hands trembled as he poured potions, the way 
his voice grew softer in the face of his tormentors. And every time Lily saw what was happening, 
she'd give James a look that made him feel smaller than a house elf. He knew he was losing her 
respect, but he couldn't stop. It was as if he was under a compulsion to push Severus away from 
her, to prove to himself that he was the one she truly desired.

One day, James' antics reached a new low. He'd convinced a group of his friends to help him pull a 
prank so elaborate, it was sure to leave Severus humiliated beyond repair. They waited in the 
shadows of the deserted library, setting up a series of traps that would culminate in a grand finale 
of slime and laughter. But as Severus approached, his head buried in a dusty tome, James felt a 
strange tug at his heart. He watched as the other boy stepped onto the first trap, a levitating book 
that smacked him in the face. The laughter of his friends seemed to echo hollowly in the vast 
room.

Severus stumbled back, dropping his book into the puddle of ink that had appeared under his feet. 
He looked up, his eyes meeting James' for a brief moment. In that instant, James saw something 
he hadn't noticed before: a deep sadness that mirrored his own. It was as if the layers of bravado 
and spite had been peeled away, revealing a soul just as lost and lonely as his. The laughter died 
in his throat, and for a moment, James felt a flicker of empathy.

But the moment was fleeting. His friends were still snickering, and Lily was watching from across 
the room, her arms crossed and her expression unreadable. He knew he had to go through with it. 
The second trap was triggered, and a cascade of glittering confetti showered Severus, sticking to 
his damp robes like glittering scales. The Slytherin students looked on with a mix of amusement 
and contempt, and James felt his heart sink. He'd gone too far.

As the last echo of laughter faded away, Severus slowly picked himself up, his eyes never leaving 
James. He wiped the ink from his face and took a step towards him, his fists clenched at his 
sides. "Is this what you call fun, Potter?" he spat, his voice low and dangerous. James took a step 
back, his bravado momentarily forgotten. He hadn't anticipated this.

"It was just a joke, Snapes," James said weakly, his smile slipping.

Severus took another step closer, his eyes blazing. "Is it a joke to you, to watch someone else's 
pain?"

James's heart hammered in his chest as he searched for the right words, but his usual quips 
eluded him. The realization of what he'd done washed over him like a cold shower. He'd gone too 
far, and he couldn't take it back.

new AI Story Generator Spells & Enchantments hogwartscore potterfic snapefic hogwarts

"You can totally sit with us," said a voice that 
seemed to shimmer with the promise of 
friendship. Cady Heron looked up from her 
lunch tray, blinking in surprise. The speaker 
was a girl with a smile so wide it could swallow 
her whole, her blonde hair glossy and her teeth 
as bright as the fluorescent lights above. The 
words hung in the air, tantalizing and slightly 
intimidating.

This was Regina George, the queen bee of 
High School. Cady had heard the whispers, 
the stories that painted her as both 
an angel and a demon. She was the center of 
the school's social universe, and everyone else 
was just a planet orbiting around her.

Cady felt a swell of excitement. She had been a 
fish out of water since moving from Africa to the 
suburbs of Chicago. The simple act of being 
acknowledged by the most popular girl in 
school was a beacon of hope in a sea of 
unfamiliar faces and cliques. She took a 
tentative step forward, her heart racing.

"Thanks," Cady managed to murmur, setting 
her tray down at the table. The cafeteria 
buzzed with whispers as the group of pretty, 
popular girls made room for her. They were 
known as the Plastics, a name that Cady had 
learned from her newfound friend Janis Ian. 
These girls were the epitome of high school 
royalty, and now she was about to become one 
of them.

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In the quaint town lived a young woman 
named Charlotte Watsford. Her days were 
filled with the quiet rhythms of the local 
library, where she worked meticulously 
cataloging books that had seen more years 
than she had. Charlotte had an unassuming 
beauty, with her auburn hair pinned back. 
Her smile was gentle, and it had the power 
to make even the sternest of patrons feel at 
ease.
 Beneath the veneer of the town, there 
was a world of magic, ancient and unseen. It
was here that Charlotte's life took an 
unexpected turn when she met Cleo Sertori, 
a young woman with secrets as deep as the 
ocean.

Cleo was a mermaid, a guardian of the sea, 
blessed with the ability to manipulate water 
and heal the creatures that dwelled within it. 
The revelation was as shocking as it was 
fascinating. Yet, with this gift came great 
responsibility, and Charlotte found herself 
torn between the life she knew and the allure 
of the vast, unexplored waters that called to 
her soul.

One moonlit night, while the town slept 
peacefully, Charlotte felt an eerie emptiness 
within her. The gentle whispers of the sea 
that had once resonated in her heart were 
now silent. Panic set in as she realized her 
mermaid tail, a symbol of her newfound 
identity, had withered away, leaving her with 
the legs of a human once more. The loss of 
her powers weighed heavily on her, a 
sudden and profound absence that seemed 
to dull the vibrant colors of the world around 
her.

Her heart pounded as she approached the 
edge. The ocean below was a 
restless canvas of inky blues and greys, a 
stark contrast to the serene waters that had 
cradled her during her time as a mermaid. 
The salt air kissed her cheeks, carrying with 
it a bittersweet reminder of the freedom she 
had left behind.

Lewis, her devoted best friend, stood beside 
her, his eyes filled concern and curiosity. 
With trembling hands, Charlotte reached to 
Cleo's necklace. It was a talisman of her 
friendship with the mermaid, a bond that 
transcended the boundaries of land and sea.

"I have to return this to her," she murmured, 
the weight of her decision etched into every 
syllable.

With a heavy heart, Charlotte unclasped the 
necklace.

new AI Story Generator charlotte watsford clewis watsfordcore cleo sertori

He felt his eyelid grow heavy to anesthesia.

"Alright, Mr. Plankton, you're gonna start 
feeling sleepy," the doctor's voice echoed. 
The world around him grew fuzzy, sounds 
becoming muffled and indistinct. His head 
lolled, body slack. The nurse's grew blurry, 
darkness before not even nothingness. 
Karen, his wife, sat by him.

Finally, the doctor stepped back, turned and 
gave her a thumbs up.
The nurse began to clean Plankton's face, 
wiping away the excess saliva and bleeding 
with gentle touch.

Karen follows as they wheel him out.

His bed was pushed into a small cubicle, his 
breathing slow and even.

In stumbled SpongeBob.

Karen smiles. "The surgery went well, he's 
just sleeping it off," she assured.

SpongeBob's taking in the beeping monitors. 
"What's all this for?" he asks, curiosity 
piqued.

"To make sure he's ok while he's asleep," 
Karen explained. "The doctor said he'd be 
out for a little while."

The yellow sponge nodded, his gaze 
lingering on the small wads of gauze 
peeking out from the sides of Plankton's 
mouth. "What's that?" he asks.

"It's to help absorb.."

Sponge Bob took in the sight of Plankton, 
who had begun to drool slightly onto the 
pillow beneath his head. The saliva pooled. 
"Oh no, Plankton. You're drooling!"

Sponge Bob watched as drool continued to 
form like a thin string connecting Plankton's 
mouth to the pillow. 
Karen chuckled softly. "It's normal, Sponge 
Bob. He won't feel it as he's asleep."

SpongeBob nodded, but curiosity remained.

"Can I... I mean, should I... wipe it up?" he 
asks.

Karen laughs. "It's ok, they'd take care of it. 
Just let him rest."

"I promise to be super gentle"

Karen nodded, a small smile playing. 
"Alright. Just be careful."
His movements were deliberate, eyes never 
leaving Plankton's mouth as he approached. 
The drool strand grew longer, a tiny bridge 
between his friend and the pillow.
The droplet fell away, landing on the pillow 
with a soft splat. Plankton stirred slightly but 
didn't wake. 
"It's fine. He's going to be a bit out of it when 
he wakes up anyway. Why don't you try 
talking to him while we wait for him to wake? 
It might help him feel more at ease."

"Hey it's Sponge Bob. You're ok, just having 
a little nap. No Krabby Patties to steal right 
now," he added with a chuckle.

Plankton's eye began to flutter, a sure sign 
that he was slowly coming back to 
consciousness. His body twitched, the 
anesthesia wearing off. "Looks like he's 
waking up," she said.

Karen leaned closer, her hand reaching out 
to gently squeeze his. "Honey, it's me," she 
whispered. "You're ok."

Plankton's unfocused and glazed. 
"Where... what... happened?" he mumbled. 
"You had wisdom teeth removed. You're in 
recovery," she said, voice soothing.

Plankton blinked. "Wis...wis...what?"

"You had a little...uh...dental appointment," 
SpongeBob said.

"Teeth...gone?" he mumbled, still groggy.

"You're fine," she assured.

"I feel... funny," he giggled, voice silly.

"Just relax, Plankton," Karen said. 
"But...but I wanna...see!" Plankton protested, 
arms flailing weakly. 
"Plankton, you need rest."

"But I'm not tired!" he exclaimed, as his head 
lolled back onto the pillow.
"I... I want to dance," he said, voice still 
slurred, which only resulted in more drool 
escaping.
"First, you gotta get better," she said, voice 
earnest.

Plankton's giggles grew, his eye half-closed. 
"But I'm already the best... at... at... at... " he 
mumbled, trailing off.

"It's anesthesia," the nurse chimed in. "It can 
make people say some funny things. You're 
just feeling a bit loopy, Plankton. You'll be 
back to your usual self soon."

Plankton's giggles grew softer, his eye 
struggling to stay open. "But... but... I'm not 
tired," he protested weakly, his voice a mere 
whisper. His eyelid began to droop once 
more.

Sponge Bob leaned in. "You just had 
surgery, Plankton. You need to rest," he said 
firmly.

Plankton's giggles turned into snores, his 
tiny body giving in despite his protests.

"He's going to be out for a while," the nurse 
said. "Anesthesia can take time to wear off 
completely."

Karen nodded, watching his chest rise and 
fall with each snore. Sponge Bob reached 
out and lightly patted Plankton's arm.
Plankton's snores grew quieter and stirred, 
eye cracking.

"Wha... SpongeBob?" he mumbled, groggy.

Sponge Bob's heart swelled at the sight of 
his confused expression. "Just keeping you 
company as you wake."

Plankton's eye rolled to the side. "Wha... 
what are you doing?" he slurred, his voice 
barely above a whisper. He tried to lift his 
hand to his mouth, but it flopped back down 
onto the bed with a limp thud. "Drool? I...I 
can't stop," he mumbled, his drool pooling 
around the fresh gauze.

Sponge Bob chuckles. "It's ok, Plankton," he 
said.

Plankton's eye narrows. "Not funny," he 
mumbled, words barely intelligible. Yet as he 
said it, another string of drool began to form, 
stretching from his mouth to the pillow.

Sponge Bob's chuckles grew. "I know, I 
know. It's just... you're so... so... " he couldn't 
find words, laughter took over.

Plankton's unable to control his drool. "I'm 
so...so...so..." he tried to form a coherent 
thought.

"So what, Plankton?"

"I'm...I'm not...not...drooling," he managed to 
say, words barely coherent.

But even as he spoke, a new droplet formed 
at the corner of his mouth. "You sure?" 
"St...stop," Plankton managed to mumble, 
his mouth open and drooling again. 
"It's...it's...embarrassing."

Sponge Bob smiled. "I know, you're ok. The 
surgery went well," he said. "Alright, we can 
get him ready to go home now," says nurse. 

They carefully lift Plankton from the bed, 
body still limp from the anesthesia.

"You ok?"

"Mm-hmm," Plankton mumbled, head lolling 
to one side. He struggled to keep his eye 
open, but the medication was too strong. 
Plankton's eye drooped shut once more, his 
snores echoing through the hall. "Whoa, 
there he goes again…"

"He's still pretty out of it," she said.

Plankton's head lolled to the side, his mouth 
hanging open. "Whoa, Plankton, wake up," 
Sponge Bob said, gently shaking his 
shoulder.

"Mmph," Plankton mumbled, his eye 
cracking open. "Where...are we?"

"Almost to the car," Karen said. "Just a bit 
longer."

But Plankton's eyelid grew heavier.

The nurse disappeared through the doors, 
leaving Karen and Sponge Bob to maneuver 
Plankton into a more upright position. His 
head kept flopping to one side, his snores 
grew louder. "Come on, Plankton, stay with 
us," Karen urged.

Sponge Bob leaned close. "You ok?" he 
asked, patting Plankton's shoulder.

Plankton's head lolled to the side, eye half-
open. "Mmph...tired," he mumbled.

Karen managed to get him in, his body 
collapsing into the seat like a ragdoll. She 
buckled him in. "You're gonna be ok," she 
whispered.

Sponge Bob climbed into the backseat.

Karen started the engine. "Let's get him 
home."

The car ride was a blur of Plankton's snores 
and occasional mumble. Sponge Bob sat in 
the back, his hand on Plankton's shoulder, 
keeping his friend from lolling too far to the 
side.

Each time Plankton nodded off, his mouth 
would droop, and gauze would slip out.

"Plankton, gotta keep it in."

Plankton mumbled something incoherent, 
his mouth still open and drooling.

Sponge Bob leaned in closer, his hand ready 
to catch the gauze if it fell out again. 
Plankton's eye fluttered open, looking 
around the car. "Just stay with us, ok?"

Sponge Bob nodded, hand on Plankton's 
shoulder. He watched as Plankton's eye 
drooped, the gauze slipping again. He 
leaned over and gently pushed it back.

"We're almost there."
 Karen chuckled from the driver's seat.

Sponge Bob’s grip on Plankton's shoulder 
tightening slightly. "Want to play a game?"

"Mmph...game?" he mumbled.

"I spy with my little eye, something..."

But Plankton's head had already dropped 
back, snores echoing. Karen glanced in the 
mirror. "I think he's out for the count," she 
said.

Sponge Bob was still vigilant, making sure 
Plankton didn't tumble out of the car. With 
Karen's help, they managed to get him to the 
couch. Sponge Bob helped prop Plankton 
up, careful not to jostle him too much. 
Everything’s just fine. 

new AI Story Generator plankbobs plaren wisdom teeth

Her strongest memory was of the smell of rain on hot pavement. It was a scent that didn't just fill 
her nose but seemed to soak into her skin, bringing with it a sense of comfort she hadn't felt in a 
very long time. Bluey Heeler was a creature of the outdoors, a dog with a heart that pounded in 
sync with the vast wilderness she called home. Her fur, a blend of blue and gray, blended 
seamlessly with the shadows of the eucalyptus trees that stretched tall beside her family's 
modest house. Rainy days meant puddles to splash in and the rich scent of earth coming alive 
around her. But it had been a long time since she'd felt the cool kiss of rainwater on her snout.

Now, Bluey was in the city, surrounded by the concrete jungle, a stark contrast to the boundless 
plains she'd once known. The smells here were overwhelming, a mishmash of exhaust fumes, fast 
food, and a million different creatures packed into a space so tight it made her feel 
claustrophobic. The noises were constant, a never-ending din that made her flinch and whine in 
the quiet moments of the night. Yet, amidst the chaos, she had found a purpose, a reason to push 
through the fear and confusion. Her new friend, named Mia, had taken her in, offering her a 
chance at a new life filled with love and companionship.

Mia was as vibrant as the flowers she tended in the small patch of earth outside their apartment. 
Despite the stark difference in their sizes, they shared a bond that transcended the confines of the 
urban sprawl. Each day, Mia would take her on adventures through the parks, allowing her to feel 
the grass under her paws and chase the occasional squirrel up a tree. It wasn't the same as the 
open ranges she'd left behind, but it was a taste of freedom she hadn't known in weeks.

One evening, as the two sat on the windowsill watching the rain dance in the streetlights, a distant 
howl echoed through the concrete valleys. It was faint, almost lost in the symphony of city 
sounds, but to Bluey, it was as clear as if it had come from right beside her. Her ears perked up, 
and she let out a soft whine, longing for the days when she could have joined the chorus. Mia 
looked at her, concern etched on her features. "What is it, girl?" she asked, her tail thumping 
against the sill as she tried to convey the ache in her soul.

The howl grew stronger, more insistent, and suddenly, Bluey realized it wasn't just any howl. It was 
her sister, Bingo. The same melody that had serenaded their nights back home, now calling to her 
from across the miles. Bingo's howl was a beacon, a thread of their shared past that had 
somehow found its way to her here in the city. Mia's eyes widened as she saw the recognition in 
Bluey's eyes. "Is that...?" she began, but the question was unnecessary. Bingo came in.

Without a second thought, Bluey leaped. She didn't care about the water soaking her fur or the 
cold seeping into her bones. All that mattered was finding Bingo.

The city streets were a labyrinth of wet reflections, the neon lights playing tricks on her eyes as 
she sprinted through the rain. The scent grew stronger with every bound, her nose leading her 
through alleys and across busy roads, dodging puddles that mirrored the chaos above. Mia, 
soaked and panting, struggled to keep up.

Then, a shadow moving swiftly in the rain. Bluey's heart leaped. That was Bingo! She picked up the 
pace, her paws barely touching the ground. The howl grew closer, turning into a series of excited 
barks as the two sisters rounded a corner and locked eyes. Bingo's tail wagged a mile a minute, 
and she barrels towards Bluey, knocking her over in a joyous reunion of wet dog and muddy 
paws. They rolled together, the sound of their laughter piercing the rain-soaked silence.

Mia skidded to a stop, panting and smiling through the downpour. She watched as the two sisters 
played, their tails creating a whirlwind of joy in the dim streetlight. The sight was enough to warm 
her to the core, making the dampness of her fur coat feel like a small price to pay for this moment. 
"Bingo," she called out, her voice a mix of happiness and relief. "You found her, Bluey!"

new AI Story Generator aicore bluey bingo mia

"Hey, how's Plankton doing?" asked Patrick.
SpongeBob looks at Plankton, chest rising
and falling with snores. "He's sleeping," he 
said.
"But it's the middle of the day!"
"Well, he just had his wisdom teeth out," he 
explained in a hushed tone. "He's pretty out 
of it. But be quiet, ok?" He turned his 
attention back to Plankton, who had 
somehow managed to dislodge the gauze 
again.
With a sigh, SpongeBob carefully repositioned it. 
"You're going to have to keep that in, Plankton," 
he said, his voice a gentle scold.
But Plankton’s head lolled to the side, his 
snores growing louder with each breath, 
drool seeping through the gauze.
"Look at him, SpongeBob," Patrick whispers. 
"He's snoring."
"Patrick, shh. He's still recovering."
"Can I...can I poke him?"
 "No, Patrick," he said, his voice a low 
whisper. Patrick's finger was already 
outstretched, hovering over Plankton. "Just a 
little? I just wanna see if he'll snore louder," 
he whispered.
SpongeBob's grip on Patrick's hand 
tightened. "Patrick, remember what I said 
about being quiet," he reminded him.
Plankton stirred in his sleep, snores turning 
to mumbles. Patrick was undeterred. He 
leaned even closer to Plankton, his hand 
hovering above the sleeping creature's 
forehead. "You're okay, buddy," he 
whispered, his voice a mix of concern and 
glee. "Just rest up, and when you wake up, 
we'll have the best party ever!" Plankton's 
snores remained steady. 
He reached out and gently poked Plankton's 
forehead. "Wake up, little buddy," he cooed, 
his voice a soft whisper.
Plankton's eye snaps open, his tiny body 
jolting upright with a snort. The gauze fell 
from his mouth, and he looked around the 
room with a glazed expression, his eye 
finally settling on Patrick's massive grin.
"Wha... what's going on?" he slurred, his 
voice muffled by the anesthesia.
Plankton's eye narrowed, his head lolling 
slightly to the side. "What happened?" he 
slurred.
SpongeBob took a tentative step closer to 
the couch, his heart racing. "You had your 
wisdom teeth out," he said softly, his voice 
filled with concern. "You're at my place, just 
resting."
Plankton blinked, his eye focusing on 
SpongeBob with a look of confusion. "Wisdom 
teeth?" he murmured, his voice 
thick with sleep.
SpongeBob nodded, his eyes never leaving 
Plankton's face. "Yes, Plankton, remember? 
You're all fixed up now," he said, his voice 
soothing.
But Patrick couldn't resist the urge to add his 
own twist. "And, you snore!" he 
whispered, his voice filled with mirth.
Plankton's confusion grew. "I... I snore?" he 
asked, his voice a mix of surprise and 
mortification.
"It's nothing to be embarrassed about," he 
assured, SpongeBob eyes Patrick with a 
warning look.
"What's it feel like?" he whispered, his voice 
a mix of excitement and concern.
Plankton looked at Patrick with 
bewilderment. "It feels...weird," he mumbled, 
his words slurred. "And my mouth is...numb."
Drool had formed at the corner of Plankton's 
mouth.
Patrick couldn't resist pointing it out. "Look, 
Sponge Bob, he's drooling!"
Sponge Bob shot him a look that was a mix 
of annoyance and amusement before turning 
back to Plankton. "It's okay, Plankton," he 
whispered, his voice gentle. "It's normal."
Plankton's eye grew distant, his mind still 
clouded by the anesthesia. 
"Everything's...so...blurry," he murmured, his 
words slurring together.
Sponge Bob and Patrick exchanged 
glances, a silent communication passing 
between them. "It's the medicine," Sponge 
Bob explained, his voice calm and 
reassuring. "It'll wear off soon."
But Patrick's curiosity was unquenchable. He 
leaned closer to Plankton. 
"Hey, Plankton," he whispered. "I... I don't 
know," he mumbled, his voice groggy. 
"Everything's all... wibbly wobbly."
"Wibbly wobbly?" 
 He looked over at Plankton, whose eye was 
still open, staring at the ceiling with a look of 
wonder. "Everything's...so...pretty,". "It's just 
the living room, Plankton. You're still a bit out 
of it."
Patrick's eyes grew wide with fascination. 
"Hey, Sponge Bob," he whispered, his voice 
filled with wonder. "Look at his mouth!"
Sponge Bob turned his gaze to Plankton, 
drooling more than ever. "Patrick, shh," he 
scolded, his voice a gentle whisper. "Let him 
rest."
Plankton's snores grew quieter for a moment 
before picking up again, a trail of drool 
connecting his mouth to the pillow.
"Is it...normal?" 
"It's just his body's way of dealing with the
surgery, he can’t help it" he murmured. "It'll 
go away eventually, all part of the process.
It's the stuff that makes you sleep through 
the surgery, like a really deep sleep so he 
won’t feel or remember.”
"But why does it keep coming out?"
"It's because his mouth is numb from the 
dental surgery, Patrick, it's his mouth 
muscles still asleep." "Can I...I mean, is it 
okay to, like, nudge it?" He made contact 
with the drool, sending a ripple through the 
salivary puddle. Plankton's snores grew 
louder, his mouth opening even wider. 
"Patrick," he hissed, his voice a mix of 
warning and amusement. "You're pushing 
your luck." His eyes remained fixed on 
Plankton, watching the drool pool grow and 
shrink with each snore. He remained 
blissfully asleep, oblivious to the 
conversation happening around him
"What if I just...dab it with a tissue?" "I guess 
it’ll help keep him comfortable." He gently 
touched the tissue to the side of Plankton's 
mouth, catching the drool before it could fall 
onto the pillow. The moment the tissue made 
contact with the saliva Plankton, who was 
now snoring more heavily, his mouth 
hanging open even wider, drool cascading 
onto the pillow, sending a ripple through the 
salivary puddle. Plankton's snores grew 
louder, his mouth opening even wider., It 
was a light touch, just enough to make the 
saliva wobble like a gelatinous blob. It was a 
tiny movement, but it was enough to make 
Plankton's snores hitch. 
"The anesthesia is wearing off, and his 
mouth is just... reacting. The numbness is 
normal." With each dab of the tissue, 
Plankton's snores grew softer, quieted, his 
mouth twitching slightly, his breathing even. 
Then Plankton's face twitched slightly, his 
expression shifting from remaining asleep 
with breathing deep and steady, to one of 
slight discomfort as the lingering anesthesia 
began to wear off. Snores had turned into 
soft whimpers of discomfort. "It’s normal he's 
starting to feel the pain." He reached for the 
medicine. “Just stay still, Plankton," Sponge 
Bob whispered. Sponge Bob nodded, his 
smile gentle. "It's just the start," he 
murmured, his voice a mix of reassurance 
and experience. "It'll take a bit for the pain to 
go away."
Plankton's mouth was still slack, the drool 
now a steady stream that pooled on the 
pillow.
Together, they managed to get Plankton into 
a sitting position, his legs dangling over the 
side of the couch.
"Hey you need to wake up just a little bit to 
take your medicine."
Plankton's head lolls back against the 
pillows.
"Patrick, hold his shoulders," Sponge Bob 
whispered urgently. "We don't want him to 
fall over."
Plankton's gaze searched the room, his 
thoughts clearly muddled. 
"There you go," Sponge Bob whispered, his 
voice filled with relief. He carefully laid 
Plankton back down on the pillows, wiping 
the last of the drool from him. Plankton's eye 
remained open, blinking slowly as the world 
swam back into focus.
"You did it," Sponge Bob whispered, his 
voice filled with pride as he swallowed 
medicine. "Now, just rest. The pain will start 
to go away soon."
Plankton's eye drifted closed again, his 
snores returning, though softer than before. 
Sponge Bob gently let 
Plankton's head back onto the pillow.
"He's okay now," Sponge Bob whispered, his 
voice a mix of relief and pride. "Good job, 
helping Patrick."
Patrick's eyes remained wide with wonder, 
his mind still racing with the excitement of 
the past few moments. "What happens 
next?" he murmured, his voice filled with 
anticipation.
Sponge Bob's smile was a mix of 
amusement and reassurance. "Now the 
medicine will kick in."

new AI Story Generator post awakening spongebob/plankton Plankton x Patrick wisdom tooth

In the quiet town of Ponyville, there lived a young earth pony named Applejack. Her coarse, burnt-
orange coat was always dotted with freckles of dirt from a hard day's work on her family's farm, 
Sweet Apple Acres. Applejack was known for her honesty and her strong work ethic, which were 
as solid as the oak trees that lined the property. Her mane and tail, a fiery shade of red, matched 
the color of the apples she grew with such care.

One sweltering afternoon, Applejack took a break from her chores, wiping the sweat from her 
brow with a bandana that smelled faintly of apple blossoms. She looked out over the fields, the 
sun blazing down like a second sun, and sighed. The harvest was coming soon, and she had so 
much to do. Her thoughts drifted to her friends, Twilight Sparkle, Pinkie Pie, and the others, and 
she wondered how they were spending their day.

Her contemplation was interrupted by the distant sound of hoofbeats. She shielded her eyes from 
the glare and saw a figure approaching. As it grew closer, she recognized the purple and white 
unicorn, Twilight Sparkle, her friend and the town's resident scholar. Twilight looked flustered, her 
eyes wide with excitement.

"Applejack!" Twilight called out, her voice strained from the run. "You won't believe what I've found 
in the library archives!"

Applejack leaned against the fence post, her curiosity piqued. "What is it, Twilight?"

Twilight's eyes gleamed with excitement. "I've discovered something absolutely fascinating, 
Applejack. It's about an ancient artifact called the Element of Honesty!"

Applejack's ears perked up at the mention of something old and precious. "The Element of 
Honesty? What's so special about it?"

Twilight paused to catch her breath, her flank heaving. "It's one of the six Elements of Harmony," 
she began, "each representing one of the core virtues of our world. The Element of Honesty is said 
to be a rare and powerful artifact that can reveal the truth in any situation. It's been lost for 
centuries, but I found a map leading to its last known location!"

Her voice grew hushed as she unfolded the ancient parchment, its edges yellowed with age. The 
map was intricate, with swirling symbols and cryptic notations that seemed to dance before 
Applejack's eyes. "It's somewhere in the Whispering Woods," Twilight whispered, her horn glowing 
softly as she traced a line over the paper.

"Well, shucks," Applejack drawled, "that's a place I've heard plenty of tall tales about, but never 
actually visited." The wood had a reputation for being eerie and mysterious, a place where 
whispers of forgotten secrets lingered on the breeze. But the prospect of finding something as 
important as the Element of Honesty was too tempting to pass up.

Twilight's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Applejack, I think we should go look for it. It's not far 
from here, and who knows what kind of trouble it could prevent if it falls into the wrong hooves?"

Applejack nodded, a mix of curiosity and apprehension in her gaze. "Alright, but we'd better tell the 
others. They might want to come along."

They gathered their friends, who were equally intrigued by the prospect of an adventure. Pinkie Pie 
bounced with excitement, Rarity's eyes gleamed with the promise of a new treasure to add to her 
collection, and Fluttershy looked nervous but determined. Rainbow Dash and Rarity promised to 
keep an eye on Fluttershy, who had a tendency to get spooked in unfamiliar places. They set out 
into the late afternoon sun, the map fluttering in Twilight's magic as they followed the path into the 
wood.

The Whispering Woods lived up to their name, with rustling leaves and hushed whispers that 
seemed to follow them through the dappled shade. The air grew cooler, and the scent of damp 
earth and pine needles filled their nostrils as they ventured deeper. Suddenly, a shadow flitted 
through the trees.

"Greetings, travelers, I am Aloysius, keeper of the woods' lore." His feathers were the color of 
moonlit silver, and his eyes held a knowing glint.

Twilight stepped forward, the map still clutched in her telekinetic grip. "We're looking for the 
Element of Honesty," she said with a hint of urgency. "Could you help us?"

Aloysius tilted his head, his beak clicking thoughtfully. "Ah, the Element of Honesty," he murmured. 
"A treasure indeed. But beware, for the woods are not kind to those who seek without pure 
intentions."

The friends exchanged glances, their determination unwavering. Applejack stepped up, her eyes 
meeting the owl's. "Our intentions are as true as my word. We aim to protect our town and find this 
artifact before it falls into the wrong hooves."

Aloysius studied them for a moment before nodding. "Very well. I will guide you to the spot where 
the Element lies hidden. But heed my warning: the woods hold secrets, and they do not give them 
up easily."

The group followed the him, their hoofsteps echoing through the quiet wood. The whispers grew 
louder, and Applejack couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched. Twilight, ever the 
scholar, took notes on the various plants and magical phenomena they encountered, while Pinkie 
Pie chattered away, trying to keep everyone's spirits high.

As they ventured further in, the wood grew denser, the path narrower. The light grew dimmer, the 
sun's rays barely piercing the thick canopy above. The air grew colder, carrying with it a sense of 
unease that made even Rainbow Dash's wings flutter anxiously.

"This place is giving me the creeps," Fluttershy whispered, her eyes darting around nervously.

"Don't worry, Fluttershy," Rainbow Dash assured her, "we're all here for you."

Aloysius led them to a clearing, where an ancient tree stood tall, its trunk twisted with age. The 
whispers grew to a crescendo, swirling around the tree's base like a cacophony of secrets 
yearning to be heard.

"Here it is," He announced, his voice barely audible over the din. "The Element of Honesty lies 
within this tree. But remember, it will only reveal itself to the worthy."

Applejack squinted at the tree, her heart racing. The whispers grew so loud, they seemed to form 
words, urging them to turn back. But she knew they couldn't. "Thanks, Aloysius," she said, turning 
to her friends. "Let's get to it."

new my little pony: friendship is magic fandom my little pony: friendship is magic my little pony raritycore ponycore AI Story Generator

"Honey, wake up," Karen said gently.

Her voice was the sweet sound of a lullaby echoing through the silent, sterile room, but Plankton remained unresponsive. The steady rhythm of the heart monitor was the only reply to her soft pleas. She sat by his side, her hand intertwined with his, her thumb brushing the back of his palm. But now, his hand lay limp, a stark contrast to the warmth and strength it usually exuded.

The antiseptic smell of the hospital filled the air, a stark reminder of the gravity of the situation. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting a cold, artificial glow on Plankton's pale face. His chest rose and fell with each shallow breath, and the rhythm was the only reassurance Karen had that he was still with her. The doctor had said it was a mild concussion, but the sight of him lying there, so vulnerable, filled her with dread. She knew that she had to stay strong, not just for herself, but for Plankton.

The door to the room creaked open, and the doctor stepped in, his footsteps muffled by the thick carpet. He was a young man, his expression a mix of professionalism and concern. He looked at the charts in his hand before glancing up at Karen. "How is he?" he asked.

Karen's eyes never left her husband's face as she replied, "The same."

The doctor nodded, his eye reflecting the seriousness of the situation. "It's not uncommon for someone with a concussion to sleep longer than usual. We're monitoring him closely, and his vitals are stable. We've given him medication to manage the pain and reduce the swelling."

Karen leaned forward, her grip on Plankton's hand tightening. "But when will he wake up?" she asked, her voice a whisper of hope.

The doctor's eyes softened. "It could be hours, or even days. The brain needs time to heal. But rest assured, Mrs. Plankton, we're doing everything we can to ensure a swift and full recovery."

Karen nodded, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. She didn't want to believe it would take that long, but she knew that patience was the only option she had. She leaned back in the chair, her eyes never leaving Plankton's face.

Time stretched out before her, each minute feeling like an eternity. The only sounds in the room were the tick of the clock on the wall and the rhythmic beep of the heart monitor. The hospital's white walls closed in around her, making her feel trapped in a world where time had ceased to have meaning. Her thoughts raced, playing out every possible scenario in her head, each one more alarming than the last.

A nurse came in to check on Plankton, her shoes squeaking against the floor. She offered Karen a kind smile and a reassuring pat on the shoulder before she tended to her husband, checking his bandages and administering fluids through the IV. Karen watched her every move, feeling helpless and out of place. The nurse noticed her distress and offered her a cup of tea, which she accepted with a nod of gratitude.

The warm liquid helped soothe her nerves as she took a sip, her eyes never straying from Plankton. The minutes ticked by, each one feeling heavier than the last. The silence was broken only by the occasional murmur from the hallway or the rustle of pages as the nurse updated his chart. Karen's mind drifted back to the moments before the accident, the laughter and the joy that seemed so distant now.

Plankton had been working on his latest invention, a contraption he swore would revolutionize the fast-food industry. It was a wild tangle of metal and wires, something that only he could understand. Karen had watched him, her curiosity piqued but her technical knowledge barely scratching the surface of his genius. "What does it do?" she had asked, her eyes wide with wonder. He had grinned, his teeth gleaming in the light of the makeshift workshop. "It's a secret," he had said, his voice filled with mischief.

Now, as she sat by his side in the hospital room, she wished she had paid more attention. Perhaps then she could have anticipated the malfunction that had sent him to the emergency room with a concussion. Plankton had always been so driven by his ideas, so wrapped up in his world of gadgets and gizmos, that he often forgot the dangers that came with his experiments. It was his passion, and she had always admired it, but in moments like these, she couldn't help but worry.

The room grew dimmer as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the floor. Karen's eyes grew heavy, and she fought the urge to sleep. Suddenly, Plankton's eyelid fluttered open, revealing eye that searched the room with confusion. "Where am I?" he croaked, his voice dry and scratchy.

Karen's heart leaped into her throat, and she leaned forward, her hand tightening around his. "You're in the hospital, sweetie. You had an accident," she said softly, her voice trembling.

Plankton blinked several times, his gaze shifting from the blurry ceiling to Karen's face. Recognition dawned in his eyes, but confusion remained etched on his furrowed brow. "What happened?" he murmured, his voice still weak and groggy.

Karen's heart swelled with relief at the sound of his voice. She took a deep breath, then explained the accident as calmly as she could. "You fell while working on your latest invention. You hit your head pretty hard. The doctor said it's just a concussion, but you need to rest."

Plankton's eyes searched hers, trying to piece together the puzzle of his foggy memory. "A concussion?" he repeated, his voice a mere whisper. "How long have I been out?"

Karen's grip on his hand tightened, her knuckles white. "A few hours, darling. But it's going to be okay." She hoped her words were true, that the fear and doubt didn't seep through. Plankton's gaze was unfocused, his thoughts jumbled. He didn't remember the accident, the pain, or the panic that had brought him here. All he knew was the gentle squeeze of her hand and the sterile scent of the hospital room.

As he began to sit up, a wave of dizziness washed over him. Karen's other hand shot out to steady him, her eyes filled with concern. "Lie back down, Plankton. You need to rest." He obeyed, his head heavy on the pillow, and his eye fell shut again. The doctor had warned her about the potential side effects of the concussion: confusion, dizziness, and memory loss. It was a strange sight, seeing him so unsure of himself, a stark contrast to the usual confidence that radiated from him.

When he opened his eye again, the confusion had deepened. "What's the last thing you remember?" Karen asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Plankton's eye searched the room, as if the answer was hidden in the shadows.

"I... I don't remember," he said, his voice filled with a sense of panic that was alien to him. "It's all blank."

Karen felt a chill run down her spine. The doctor had mentioned that amnesia was a possibility, but she hadn't allowed herself to believe it would happen to Plankton. "It's okay," she assured him, her voice shaky.

Plankton's eye searched hers, desperation flickering in their depths. "What do you mean, I don't remember?"

Karen took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of anxiety brewing within her. "Sometimes with concussions, memories can be a bit jumbled. But don't worry, they'll come back to you." She hoped her reassurance sounded more convincing than it felt.

The doctor had warned her that the road to recovery might be bumpy, but she had never anticipated Plankton's memory loss. Her mind raced, trying to think of ways to help him, to fill in the blanks without overwhelming him. "Do you remember anything at all?" she asked, her voice gentle.

Plankton's eye searched the room again, as if the answer was hiding in the corners. "I remember... I remember working," he said, his voice trailing off. "But it's all... fuzzy."

Karen felt a pang of sadness at the lost look on her husband's face. She didn't know how to navigate this new, uncharted territory. But she knew she had to be strong for him. "It's okay, Plankton," she said, stroking his forehead with the back of her hand. "You just need to rest."

The doctor had instructed her to keep the environment calm and familiar to aid in his recovery. So, she began to speak in soothing tones, telling him stories of their past adventures. Her words painted a picture of a life filled with love and adventure, and she watched as his face relaxed with each passing moment.

His breathing grew steadier, his chest rising and falling in a more natural rhythm.

The hospital room was a cocoon of beige and white, the only color coming from the bouquet of flowers she had brought from home.

Plankton's chest rose and fell in the rhythm of deep sleep, his breathing steady and even. The heart monitor beeped reassuringly, a metronome to the symphony of his rest. His face was peaceful, free from the tension that had gripped it earlier.

She felt a weight lift from her shoulders as she realized the immediate danger had passed. For now, at least, he was safe, and she was grateful for every moment of his peaceful rest. She knew the road ahead would be fraught with challenges, but for now, she was content to sit by his side and enjoy the quiet.

new AI Story Generator comacore planktonkin concussed

r/shortscarystories
24 days ago
GuyAwks

Forget Me Anniversary Not

What kind of husband goes and forgets an anniversary?

And not just any anniversary. Our 10 year anniversary.

I didn’t want to have to remind Stephen about it. I wanted him to remember it on his own, to show me he cared about our partnership. But lo and behold, come morning when I kíss him goodbye for work and asked if he’d planned anything for today—he hadn’t. He just read his newspaper like it was any other day, with no hint of reaction.

Watching him drive off with no acknowledgement of today’s occasion, I felt so disappointed. I even pulled out my phone to call up our marriage counselor, Dr Faulkner, to talk through my feelings and book an appointment for us. But, just my luck, he wasn’t picking up.

So instead, I swallow my discontent and got our two kids ready for school. All throughout doing my daily household chores, I held out hope that Stephen might ring me to wish me, or have a bouquet delivered, or even pop home to whisk me off for a fancy lunch. Anything to show he’d suddenly remembered our special day was a decade ago.

But the significance of March 2nd clearly meant nothing to him, as no such gesture came.

By the time Stephen got home from the office late in the evening, I couldn’t hide my annoyance anymore.

Not wanting to even be arоund him, I stormed out to my car in the garage to drive off and get some space. That’s when I heard the muffled sound coming from the trunk. Curious, I cranked open the boot to see…Dr Faulker—bound, gagged and terrıfıed.

“Happy anniversary, honey” purred Stephen’s voıce from behind me.

I whirled around, my heart aflutter and a wıde, joyful smıle on my face. 

“Oh Stephen, you did remember! And with a personal touch, you shouldn’t have.”

Swooning, I ripped the gag off our helpless victim.

“Stephen, Janice…p-please let me go!” Dr Faulkner gasped in sweaty confusion. “What are you doing?!”

“He’s been in there since yesterday,” Stephen informed me. “I knew you’d find your anniversary gift eventually.”

“Anniversary?!” yelped Dr Faulkner. “I-isn’t your wedding anniversary in November!?”

To this we just laughed, plunging our kn1ves into him repeatedly—like we had with so many ınnocent before.

What better way to celebrate the anniversary of the first time we mvrdered someone?

new Holidays/Celebrations career/work love stories reddit

ᴴᵃᵖᵖʸ ᶜʰʳⁱˢᵗᵐᵃˢ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ!
⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾
ᔆᵉᵉᵐˢ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ˢᵏⁱᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵈᵘᵉ
ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜᵒⁿˢᵗᵃⁿᵗˡʸ ᵖˡᵒᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ᵏⁿᵉʷ
ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿᵉʳ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᵃᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ⁱⁿ
ᵖᵘᵇˡⁱᶜ ⁱᵐᵃᵍᵉ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵐᵒᵉᵇᵃ ᵖᵘᵖᵖʸ ᶠᵉˡᵗ
ᵇᵃᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵉˣᶜⁱᵗᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᶜʰʳⁱˢᵗᵐᵃˢ ᵈᵉˢᵖⁱᵗᵉ
ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵃᵘᵍʰᵗʸ ˡⁱˢᵗ! 'ᴵ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃ
ᵍⁱᶠᵗ ᵗʰᵉⁿ' ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏˢ‧ ᴴᵉ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧
ᔆᵖᵒᵗ'ˢ ʳᵉˡⁱᵉᵛᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱˢ
ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ᵇᵃʳᵉˡʸ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢⁿᵒʳᵉᵈ ᵃ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ‧ ᔆᵒ
ⁿᵒʷ⸴ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ˢⁿᵉᵃᵏˢ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ ᴴᵉ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ
ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵃⁱⁿ ᵉᵃʳˡⁱᵉʳ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ⁿᵉᵉᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒᵒˡˢ ᶠᵒʳ
ʰⁱˢ ˡᵃᵇᵒʳᵃᵗᵒʳʸ ᵉˣᵖᵉʳⁱᵐᵉⁿᵗˢ⸴ ˢᵒ ʰᵉ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᵗᵒᵒˡ
ᵇᵒˣ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵇʳᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ⁱᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ⁱⁿ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ʷᵃᵍᵍᵒⁿ‧
ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ʷʳᵃᵖᵖⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᵗ⸴ ʰᵉ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵒᵒˡ
ᵇᵒˣ ʰᵉ ʷʳᵃᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃᵍᵍᵒⁿ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ
ˢⁱᵍʰˢ⸴ ᵗⁱˡᵗⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ʷᵃᵍᵍᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ⁱᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ‧
ᴴᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢˡⁱᵈᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰʳⁱˢᵗᵐᵃˢ
ᵗʳᵉᵉ ᵇʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵇᵉᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ʷᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ
ʰⁱᵐ ᵘᵖ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵍⁱᶠᵗ ᶠⁱⁿᵃˡˡʸ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ
ʷᵃᵍᵍᵒⁿ ᵐᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᵗʰᵘᵈ ⁿᵒⁱˢᵉ ᵈᵒⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒ‧
ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ʰᵉˢⁱᵗᵃᵗᵉᵈ⸴ ˡᵒᵒᵏⁱⁿᵍ ⁿᵒʷ ᵃᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧
"‧‧‧ʸ’ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵍᵉᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᶜʰʳⁱˢᵗᵐᵃˢ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖᵗᵃˡᵏˢ
ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʳᵒˡˡˢ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗˢ ˢⁿᵒʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ‧
ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ˢⁱᵍʰᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ʳᵉˡⁱᵉᶠ⸴ ᵗᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃᵍᵍᵒⁿ ᵒᵘᵗ‧
ᵀʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰᵉˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ
ʰⁱˢ ᶜʰʳⁱˢᵗᵐᵃˢ ᵖʳᵉˢᵉⁿᵗ‧ "ᴶᵘˢᵗ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᴵ ⁿᵉᵉᵈᵉᵈ!"
ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ʷᵃᵍˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵗᵃⁱˡ‧ ╰ ✧ ･ﾟ∙ ∗ — ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ ⟨ 2 1 6

new sheldon j. plankton Christmas / Winter Holiday Holidays/Celebrations Short & Sweet short but sweet eventual happy ending Somniloquy (Sleep-Talking) helpful products and tools science & tech holidayfic holidaycore planktonwave spotcore Happy Christmas to me!

ᔆᑫᵘⁱˡˡⁱᵃᵐ ᶠᵃⁿᶜʸ ᴼⁿᵉ
⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ, ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴄᴇ
ᵂʰᵉⁿ ᔆᑫᵘⁱˡˡⁱᵃᵐ ᵒᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠʳᵒⁿᵗ
ᵈᵒᵒʳ ʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ˢᵉᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃᵗ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ‧
"ᴵ ʰᵉᵃʳ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ'ˢ ᵉⁿᵉᵐʸ
ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ʳᵘⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ
ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵇᵘˢⁱⁿᵉˢˢ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒˡᵈ‧
"ᴵ'ᵐ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ
ᴵ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ʰᵉˡᵖ ᵐᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ
ᵇᵘˢⁱⁿᵉˢˢ ᵗᵒ‧ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉᵍⁱⁿ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ‧"
"ᵂᵉˡˡ ˢᵘʳᵉ! ᴮᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵒᵒᵏ
ˡⁱᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ʳᵉˢᵗ‧ ᴵ'ˡˡ ˢᵉᵗ
ᵘᵖ ᵃ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ⁿᵒʷ‧"
ᔆᑫᵘⁱˡˡⁱᵃᵐ ˡᵉᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁱⁿ
ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵉᵈ
ʳᵒᵒᵐ ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ ʰᵉ ᵍᵃᵗʰᵉʳᵉᵈ
ˢᵒᵐᵉ ˢᵘᵖᵖˡⁱᵉˢ‧ "ᴳᵉᵗ ᶜᵒᵛᵉʳ
ᵇˡᵃⁿᵏᵉᵗˢ ˢᵐᵃˡˡ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗᵒ
ᶠⁱᵗ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐⁱⁿⁱ ᶜʰⁱⁿᵃ ᶜᵒᵗ‧"
ᴴᵉ ᵖᵘᵗ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵇʸ
ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ᵇᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡⁱᶠᵗᵉᵈ
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ‧ "ᵁˢᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ
ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᶠⁱᵍᵘʳⁱⁿᵉˢ ᴵ ˢᵒˡᵈ ˢᵒ
ᵃˢ ᵗᵒ ʷʰʸ ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ˢᵘᶜʰ ˢⁱᶻᵉᵈ
ᵇᵉᵈᵈⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᶜᵘʳⁱᵒᵘˢ‧"
"ᵀʰᵃⁿᵏˢ⸴ ᔆᑫᵘⁱˡˡⁱᵃᵐ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ
ˢᵃʸˢ‧ ᔆᑫᵘⁱˡˡⁱᵃᵐ ᶠᵉˡˡ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ⸴
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ʲᵘˢᵗ
ʳᵉˢᵗᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ
ᵖⁱˡˡᵒʷ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰⁱⁿᵃ ᵇᵉᵈᵈⁱⁿᵍ‧
ᔆᑫᵘⁱˡˡⁱᵃᵐ ᵃʷᵒᵏᵉ ᵉᵃʳˡʸ ᵃˢ
ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵈⁱᵈ⸴ ʸᵉᵗ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳᵉᵈ
ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵍᵘᵉˢᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧
ᔆᑫᵘⁱˡˡⁱᵃᵐ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵃⁿᵈ
ˢᵃʷ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ⸴ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ᵃ 
ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢⁿᵒʳᵉᵈ ˢᵒ 
ˢᵒᶠᵗˡʸ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵗᵒ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵃˡᵐᵒˢᵗ 
ⁱⁿᵃᵘᵈⁱᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉᵃʳ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ
ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵈⁱˢᵗᵘʳᵇ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒʷ‧
ᔆᑫᵘⁱˡˡⁱᵃᵐ ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵃᵗᶜʰ
ᵘᵖ ʷⁱᵗʰ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ʳᵉᵃᵈⁱⁿᵍ ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ
ᵗʰᵉ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ᵍᵘʸ'ˢ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖⁱⁿᵍ‧
ᴴᵉ ᵖⁱᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵃᵗᵉˢᵗ
ⁱˢˢᵘᵉ ᵒᶠ ᴴᵒᵘˢᵉ ᶠᵃⁿᶜʸ‧
ᵂʰᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵒᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ
ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ⸴ ʰᵉ ˢᵃᵗ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵘᵖ
ᵃˢ ᔆᑫᵘⁱˡˡⁱᵃᵐ ˢᵉᵗ ᵐᵃᵍᵃᶻⁱⁿᵉ
ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵈᵒʷⁿ‧ "ᴴᵉʸ ᶠᵉˡˡᵃ!" "ᴼʰ
ʰⁱ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʳᵉᶜⁱᵖʳᵒᶜᵃᵗᵉᵈ
ᔆᑫᵘⁱˡˡⁱᵃᵐ'ˢ ᵍʳᵉᵉᵗⁱⁿᵍ‧ "ᴿᵉᵃᵈʸ?"
ᔆᑫᵘⁱˡˡⁱᵃᵐ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ
ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ʳᵉˢᵗᵃᵘʳᵃⁿᵗ‧ "ᴵ ᵃˡˢᵒ ˡⁱᵛᵉ
ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵘⁱˡᵈⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧"
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ
ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉᵐ‧
"ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷʰʸ'ˢ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷ⁻
ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵃᵗ⸴ ᴵ'ᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ
ˢᵘʳᵉ ᴵ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵏⁿᵒʷ‧‧"
"ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵐᵉᵉᵗ ᔆᑫᵘⁱˡˡⁱᵃᵐ; ʰᵉ ⁱˢ
ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ʰᵉˡᵖ ᵘˢ‧ ᴬⁿᵈ ᴵ ᵇᵘⁱˡᵗ ᵐʸ
ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷʰᵒ'ˢ ᵐᵃʳʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ!"
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁱⁿᵗʳᵒᵈᵘᶜᵉᵈ‧ "ᔆᵒ ˡⁱᵏᵉ
ⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵃᵗ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵉᵉ ᵐʸ ʷᵒʳˢᵗ
ᵉⁿᵉᵐʸ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʷᵒʳᵏˢ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ
ᴷʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᴷʳᵃᵇ ᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʳⁱᵛᵃˡ 
ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵃˡˢᵒ‧ ᴺᵒʷ ʷᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ
ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ‧‧‧"
"ᴵ'ᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵃ ᵗᵒᵖ ᶜʰᵉᶠ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ
ʰᵉˡᵖ ᵘᵖᵍʳᵃᵈᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉᵃᵗᵉʳʸ!" "ᴼᶠ
ᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ! ᴮᵘᵗ ʰᵒʷ?" "ᴹʸ ᵇᵘᵗˡᵉʳ‧"
ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ᔆᑫᵘⁱˡˡⁱᵃᵐ'ˢ ᵇᵘᵗˡᵉʳ ᶜˡᵉᵃⁿˢ ᵘᵖ
ᵗʰᵉ ᵏⁱᵗᶜʰᵉⁿ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉˢ ᵗʰᵉ
ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ ⁿᵒʷ‧
"ᔆᵒ ˡᵉᵗ'ˢ ˢᵗᵉᵃˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ
ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿⁿᵒᵗ ᵍᵒ ⁱⁿ ᵐʸˢᵉˡᶠ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ
ᵗʰᵉʸ ʷⁱˡˡ‧‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᴵ'ᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ
ᵍᵒ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ
ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵃᵗⁱˢᶠᵃᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ‧‧‧" "ᶠⁱⁿᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈⁱˢᵗʳᵃᶜᵗ
ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ ᴵ ˢⁿᵉᵃᵏ ⁱⁿ!" ᔆᵒ ᔆᑫᵘⁱˡˡⁱᵃᵐ ʷᵉⁿᵗ‧
"ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈˢ ᵒʰ ᴵ ˢᵉᵉ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ
ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵃ ᶜᵃˢʰⁱᵉʳ!" "ᴬⁿᵈ ᴵ ˢᵉᵉ
ʸᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ⁿᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵗᵒ
ᵈᵒ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ˢᵉᵉ ᵐᵉ‧‧‧" "ᑫᵘⁱᵗᵉ ᵗʰᵉ
ᶜᵒⁿᵗʳᵃʳʸ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ‧‧‧" ᔆᑫᵘⁱˡˡⁱᵃᵐ
ᶜᵒⁿᶠʳᵒⁿᵗˢ⸴ ᵏᵉᵉᵖⁱⁿᵍ 'ᵉᵐ ᵇᵘˢʸ ⁿᵒʷ‧
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵗᵗˡᵉ ᵒᶠ ˡⁱˢᵗ
ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ 
ˢᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿˡʸ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ‽"
ᴬˢ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᔆᑫᵘⁱˡˡⁱᵃᵐ ᵃʳᵍᵘᵉᵈ
ᵗʰᵉʸ ˢᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿˡʸ ᶠʳᵒᶻᵉ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᵃ
ˢᶜʳᵉᵃᵐ ᶜᵒᵐⁱⁿᵍ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵒᶠᶠⁱᶜᵉ‧
ᵀʰᵉʸ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ʳᵃⁿ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᶠᶠⁱᶜᵉ
ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ
ʷʰᵒ ˢᶜʳᵉᵃᵐᵉᵈ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉʸ
ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ʷʰʸ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ⁿᵒᵗ
ᵒⁿˡʸ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠʳᵒᵐ
ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵃˡˢᵒ
ⁿᵉᵃʳˡʸ ᵏⁱˡˡᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʳᵒᶜᵉˢˢ‧
ᴮʳᵒᵏᵉⁿ ᵍˡᵃˢˢ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵗᵗˡᵉ
ˢʰᵃᵗᵗᵉʳᵉᵈ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵘˢᵉᵈ
ˢᵒ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰʳᵒʷ ᵃᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᴺᵒʷ
ˢᶜʳᵃᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵇᵃᵈˡʸ
ⁱⁿʲᵘʳᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵘʳᵗⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᔆᑫᵘⁱˡˡⁱᵃᵐ
ʰᵉˡᵖᵉᵈ⸴ ᵇʸ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ˢʰᵃʳᵈˢ
ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ⁱⁿ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ‧
ᔆᵒᵐᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖⁱᵉᶜᵉˢ ᵍᵒᵗ 
ᵉᵐᵇᵉᵈᵈᵉᵈ ᵈᵉᵉᵖˡʸ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ
ᔆᑫᵘⁱˡˡⁱᵃᵐ ʳᵉᵐᵒᵛᵉᵈ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ
ˢᵗⁱˡˡ⸴ ᵈᵃᵐᵃᵍᵉˢ ᵈᵒⁿᵉ⸴ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵇᵃᵈ‧
ᴮᵃᵈ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ʰⁱᵐ
ᵐᵘᶜʰ ʰᵃʳᵐ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ
ᵗᵒ ᵐᵘᵐᵇˡᵉ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ
ʷʰᵃᵗ ʰᵉ'ˢ ʷᵃⁿᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˢᵃʸ ᵇᵘᵗ
ⁱⁿˢᵗᵉᵃᵈ ᵒᶠ ʷᵒʳᵈˢ⸴ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᶜᵒᵘᵍʰᵉᵈ‧
ᴺᵒ ʷᵒʳᵈˢ ᵉˢᶜᵃᵖᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ;
ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵍˡᵒᵇ ᵒᶠ ʳᵉᵈ ᵇˡᵒᵒᵈ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ‧
ᴴⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵘᵖ ʳᵒˡˡᵉᵈ
ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒʷ
ᵖᵃˢˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵘᵗ ᶜᵒˡᵈ ᵗᵒ‧
"ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ?" ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵇʳᵒᵏᵉ
ᵗʰᵉ ˢⁱˡᵉⁿᶜᵉ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ᔆᑫᵘⁱˡˡⁱᵃᵐ ᵍᵒᵗ
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ʰᵃⁿᵈˢ ᵗᵒ
ᵗᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧‧
ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉ
ᵇˡᵒᵒᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵈʳᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ
ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ
ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵒᵖ ᵃˢᵖʰʸˣⁱᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ‧
ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ˢⁱᵖʰᵒⁿⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏᵉᵈ
ᔆᑫᵘⁱˡˡⁱᵃᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ
ᵃʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ʷᵒʳᵏᵉᵈ‧
ᵂʰᵉⁿᶜᵉ ⁿᵒ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵇᵘᵇᵇˡᵉˢ
ᵒᶠ ᵇˡᵒᵒᵈ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵘᵖ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ
ᵗᵉⁿᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ʷᵒᵘⁿᵈˢ‧
"ᴬᵍʰ‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‽ ᴵ ᵍᵒᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉ
ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʰᵉˡᵖᵉᵈ
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢⁱᵗ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᶜᵒˡᵈ ᵈʳⁱⁿᵏ
ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ‧ "ᴵ ˢᵉⁿᵗ ᔆᑫᵘⁱˡˡⁱᵃᵐ ᵗᵒ
ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ʰᵉ ᵇʳᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ʸᵒᵘ
ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉˡᵖᵉᵈ ˢᵗᵒᵖ ᶠʳᵒᵐ
ᵇˡᵉᵉᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵘᵗ‧" ᴱˣᵖˡᵃⁱⁿˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧
"ᴵ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵒʳ
ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ʰᵉˡᵖⁱⁿᵍ‧‧‧"
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᔆᑫᵘⁱˡˡⁱᵃᵐ
ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʰᵒⁿᵉ‧ "ᔆᵒʳʳʸ‧‧"
𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 𝟽𝟷𝟿

new squilliam fancyson squilward squillward squilliamcore helping others Getting to Know Each Other developing friendships Eugene Krabs/Squidward Tentacles squilliam fancy one

ᴸⁱᵃʳ ᴸⁱᵃʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏ'ˢ ᵒⁿ ᶠⁱʳᵉ
⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾
"ᴾᵉʳʰᵃᵖˢ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʲᵉˡˡʸ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵈʳⁱᵛᵉ
ᶜᵘˢᵗᵒᵐᵉʳˢ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ!"
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵉᵃʳˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ
ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ ⁱⁿ ʲᵉˡˡʸᶠⁱˢʰ ᶠⁱᵉˡᵈˢ⸴ ʷʰᵉⁿ
ˢᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿˡʸ⸴ ᵃ ˢᵗᵒʳᵐ ᶜˡᵒᵘᵈ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ‧
ᴸⁱᵍʰᵗⁿⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿˡʸ ˢᵗʳⁱᵏᵉˢ ᵃ
ᵈʸⁱⁿᵍ ᶜᵒʳᵃˡ ᵗʳᵉᵉ⸴ ᶜᵃᵗᶜʰⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᵗ
ᵒⁿ ᶠⁱʳᵉ‧ ᴵᵗ ˢᵖʳᵉᵃᵈ ʳᵃᵖⁱᵈˡʸ ⁿᵒʷ‧
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒʷ ˢᵘʳʳᵒᵘⁿᵈᵉᵈ
ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠˡᵃᵐᵉˢ⸴ ʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ
ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʰᵒᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ʷⁱˡᵈ
ᶠⁱʳᵉ ᶜᵃᵘˢᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃᵛᵉ 
ᵈⁱᶠᶠⁱᶜᵘˡᵗʸ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵖʳᵒᵖᵉʳˡʸ‧
ᵁⁿᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵉˢᶜᵃᵖᵉ ᶠˡᵃᵐᵉˢ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ⁿᵒʷ
ᵒᵛᵉʳʷʰᵉˡᵐᵉᵈ⸴ ˢᵒ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᶠᵃⁱⁿᵗᵉᵈ/ᵖᵃˢˢᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ‧
ᴸᵘᶜᵏⁱˡʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠⁱʳᵉ ᵈⁱᵉᵈ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵇᵘᵗ 
ᵘⁿᶠᵒʳᵗᵘⁿᵃᵗᵉˡʸ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ⁱᵗ'ˢ
ʳᵉⁿᵈᵉʳᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵘⁿᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢ‧
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵃⁿ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗʰᵉ
ᶠˡᵃᵐᵉˢ ᵇʸ ʲᵘᵐᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵗᵒ
ˢᵉᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᶜᵒᵒᵖ ʰⁱᵐ
ᵘᵖ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈˢ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ
ʳᵘⁿˢ⸴ ᵖᵘˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠⁱʳᵉ‧
ᴰᵉˢᵖⁱᵗᵉ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʳᵉᵐᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡⁱᵐᵖˡʸ‧
"ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵇᵘʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʸˢ‧
ᴴᵉ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵃᵏᵉ
ᵘᵖ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵒᵈʸ ᶜᵃⁿ ᶜᵒᵒˡ ᵈᵒʷⁿ‧
"ᴵ⁻ᴵ⁻ᴵ'ᵐ ˢ⁻ˢᵒʳʳʸ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʸˢ‧
ᴺᵒʷ ᵃᵗ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵖⁱⁿᵉᵃᵖᵖˡᵉ ʳᵉˢⁱᵈᵉⁿᶜᵉ
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶠⁱˡˡᵉᵈ ᵃ ᵇᵒʷˡ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵒˡᵈ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ ᵗᵒ
ᶜᵒᵒˡ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵈᵒʷⁿ‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵒᵈʸ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗˢ
ᵗᵒ ˢⁱⁿᵏ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃᵘᵍʰᵗ
ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵒ ᵃˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢˡⁱᵖ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳ‧ ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ʳⁱⁿˢⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗˡʸ ᵈʳⁱᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒᶠᶠ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ᵗʰⁱⁿ
ᵗᵒʷᵉˡ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᶠᵒʳᵉʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵃˢ ᵗᵉᵐᵖᵉʳᵃᵗᵘʳᵉ‧
ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃʳᵐ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵃˢ ʰᵒᵗ ᵃˢ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ‧
ᴴᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ
ˢᵘᶠᶠᵉʳ ˢʰᵒᶜᵏ ˢᵒ ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈᵉᵈ
ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿˢᵗ ᵈⁱʳᵉᶜᵗˡʸ ᵖᵘᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᶜᵉ‧
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᵃ ⁿⁱᶜᵉ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ
ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱˢ
ᵖⁱˡˡᵒʷ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵐᵒˢᵗ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗᵃᵇˡᵉ‧
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᶠᵃⁿ ᵒⁿ‧
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗᵒ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵒⁿ
ᵗʰᵉ ᴿᵘᵇⁱᵏ'ˢ ᶜᵘᵇᵉ⸴ ʷᵒʳᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵗ ⁱᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵒᵐᵉ
ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ
ᶠⁱⁿᵃˡˡʸ ʳᵉᵍᵃⁱⁿ ᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢⁿᵉˢˢ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‽"
"ᵁᵍʰʰʰ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᶠˡᵘᵗᵗᵉʳˢ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ‧
"ᵂᵘʰ? ᵂʰᵃᵃ⁻ ʷʰᵃ’ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃᵐ ᴵ?" ᴴᵉ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧
"ʸᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ᵒᵛᵉʳ
ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵃˢ ʰᵉᵃᵗ ᶠʳᵒᵐ
ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵐᵒᵏᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵒ
ᴵ ᵇʳᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵃᶠᵉ‧"
"ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮ⁻⁻ ʷʰ⁻ʷʰᵃ⁻ʰᵘʰ?"
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵍʳᵒᵍᵍʸ‧ "ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ʷᵒʳᵏⁱⁿᵍ
ᵒⁿ ᵐʸ ᴿᵘᵇⁱᵏ'ˢ ᶜᵘᵇᵉ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢⁱᵗ ᵘᵖ?"
ᴴᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵏᵉᵉⁿ ᵒⁿ ᵗᵒᵘᶜʰ‧
"ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ˡᵉᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿˢᵗ‧‧‧" "ᶠⁱⁿᵉ‧"
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵖᵘᵗ ᵃⁿᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵖⁱˡˡᵒʷ ᵇᵉʰⁱⁿᵈ
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ˢᵘᵖᵖᵒʳᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ˡᵉᵃⁿ‧
"ᴿᵉᵃᵈʸ?" ᴴᵉ ˢᶜᵒᵒᵗˢ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢⁱᵗˢ
ʰⁱᵐ ᵘᵖ ᵇʸ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉ
ʷʰᵃᵗ ʷᵃʳᵐ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ; ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵍᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ‧"
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵉᵗᵘʳⁿˢ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᶠʳᵉˢʰ ᵈʳⁱⁿᵏ‧ "ᴵ ᵖᵘᵗ ⁱᶜᵉ
ⁱⁿ ⁱᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ˢᵗʳᵃʷ‧" ᴴᵉ ˢᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ ᵈᵒʷⁿ‧
"ᵀᵃˢᵗᵉˢ ʳᵉᶠʳᵉˢʰⁱⁿᵍ‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉᵈ‧
"ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˢᵒˡᵛᵉ ᵃ ᴿᵘᵇⁱᵏ'ˢ ᶜᵘᵇᵉ
ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵃ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᵒʳ ᵍᵒ ᵃᵗ ⁱᵗ‧"
"ᴵ'ᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ⁱᵗ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵒʷ‧‧" "ᴵ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ⁱᵗ'ˢ
ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ˢᵗᵒʳᵐⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵘᵗ ˢᵒ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵇᵉ
ˢᵗᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐᵉ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ
ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ‧" 
"ᵂʰʸ ᵈᵒ ᴵ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ˢʷᵉᵃᵗʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵉᵃᵏ?" "ᵂᵉˡˡ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ
ⁱⁿ ᵃ ᶠⁱʳᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵒⁿˡʸ ʲᵘˢᵗ ⁿᵒʷ ᶜᵒᵒˡᵉᵈ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵏᵉ‧‧"
"ᴵ ʷᵃˢ ⁱⁿ ʲᵉˡˡʸᶠⁱˢʰ ᶠⁱᵉˡᵈˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃ ᶜᵒʳᵃˡ
ᵗʳᵉᵉ ᶜᵃᵘᵍʰᵗ ᶠⁱʳᵉ⸴ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ˢᵘʳʳᵒᵘⁿᵈᵉᵈ
ᵐᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᴵ'ᵈ ᵐᵉˡᵗ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ
ˢᵃʸˢ‧ "ᴮᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵐᵘˢᵗ'ᵛᵉ ˢᵃᵛᵉᵈ ᵐᵉ ᴵ
ᵃˢˢᵘᵐᵉ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ⁿᵒʷ ᴵ'ᵐ ᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ
ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ˢᵒ⸴ ᵗʰᵃ⁻ ᵘʰ⸴ ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸ⁻ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧"
"ᴵ'ᵐ ᵍˡᵃᵈ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᴵ ᵃᵖᵒˡᵒᵍⁱˢᵉ ᶠᵒʳ‧‧‧" "ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ
ᵇᵒᵇ⸴ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠᵃᵘˡᵗ‧ ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉⁿ'ᵗ ᵉⁿᵉʳᵍʸ‧"
"ᵂᵉˡˡ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ˡᵃᵗᵉ‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵉᵗˢ ᵃ ʷᵃˢʰ
ᶜˡᵒᵗʰ ᵗᵒ ᵖᵘᵗ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵇʸ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵗᵘʳⁿˢ
ʰⁱˢ ᵃˡᵃʳᵐ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵐᵒᵛᵉˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ ᵒᵛᵉʳ‧
"ᴵ ᵖᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜˡᵒᵗʰ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠʳᵉᵉᶻᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᶜᵒˡᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ
ˢᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵇᵉ‧‧‧" "ᴵ'ᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵘʳᵉ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗᵒ
ᵇʸ ᵐʸˢᵉˡᶠ‧‧" "ᶜᵃⁿ ᴵ ˡⁱᶠᵗ ʸᵒᵘ?" "ᴶᵘˢᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃˢʰ
ᶜˡᵒᵗʰ ᴵ ᵍᵘᵉˢˢ ˢᵘʳᵉ‧" ᴴᵉ ˢᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ˢᵘᵖⁱⁿᵉ‧
"ᶠᵉᵉˡˢ ˢᵒ ⁿⁱᶜᵉ ᵏⁱᵈ‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵐᵉ ⁱᶠ
ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ‧" ᴴᵉ ᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵒᶠᶠ‧
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵉʸᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒ ˡᵒⁿᵍᵉʳ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ‧ "ᴳᵒᵒᵈ
ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵒᵖᵉˢ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᶠᵉᵉˡ
ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵇʸ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ‧
"ᴬˡˡ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ?" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷʰⁱˢᵖᵉʳˢ‧
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ
ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜˡᵒᵗʰ⸴ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ
ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ʳᵉˢᵗᶠᵘˡ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˡᵘʳᶜʰᵉᵈ
ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷʰᵒ
ⁿᵒʷ ˢⁿᵒʳᵉᵈ‧ 'ᴿᵃⁱⁿⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᵖᵒᵘʳⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ˢⁿᵒʳⁱⁿᵍ‧‧'
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉ‧ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 𝟔𝟓𝟎

new spongebob/plankton Spongebob Squarepants/Sheldon J. Plankton SpongeBob SquarePants (character) plankbob plankbobs helping others healing and caring liar liar planks on fire

"Ok, Plankton I'm going to give you something to help you relax."

The nurse prepped a syringe, the cold liquid sliding into his gum line. The doctor's voice grew distant. Karen's hand tightened around his, as the anesthesia took hold. Plankton closed his eye, numbness spread. He felt his heart rate slow and his muscles relax as the world around him faded to a gentle buzz. 
The anesthetic was administered, and doctor's instructions to count back from ten echoed in his mind, but he never made it past seven.

The doctor's skilled extracted the troublesome teeth. Plankton's face remained still, his breathing deep and even under the influence of the anesthesia.

Karen squeezed his hand again, hoping he could feel her support through the unconsciousness.

The doctor's face broke to a satisfied smile. "All done," he said, gesturing to the nurse to start cleaning up. "Everything went smoothly." Karen nodded to express her gratitude. "We'll keep him here for a bit longer to make sure he's fully recovered from the anesthesia, but you can stay with him."

As the doctor stepped out, Karen pulled up a chair next to Plankton. His features looked almost childlike, and couldn't help but feel a twinge of protectiveness. He might be trouble, but she cared for him deeply. The nurse bustled around, removing various tubes and monitors attached to him, and soon the room was quiet once more, filled only with the low murmur of the machines.

His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, and Karen sat there, holding his hand.

The nurse finished her work and gave Karen a nod, indicating that she could talk to Plankton if she wanted. Leaning in close, she whispered, "You did good. Just a little bit longer, and you'll be back." Plankton's eye fluttered open, and he groaned, his speech slurred from the anesthesia. "K-Karen?"

"I'm here," she said, smoothing back his antennae. His eye searched for a moment before the reality of the situation set in, and he tried to sit up. "Easy now," Karen said soothingly, gently pushing him back down. "You're okay. The surgery's over. You did great!"

Plankton's gaze darted around the room, trying to focus. "Where... where are they?" he mumbled, his voice thick and groggy.

Plankton's eye narrowed in confusion before drifted shut again. "Did we get... the formula?" he slurred, his mind still clinging to his latest obsession.

Karen couldn't help but chuckle. "Not today. But don't worry." She watching him closely as the anesthesia wore off.
"You've been out.."
 "So, we didn't get it?" he asked.

The nurse turned to them, noticing Plankton awake. "How are you feeling?"

"Woozy," Plankton slurred words thick and slow.

The doctor nodded understandingly. "That's normal. The anesthesia will wear off in a bit, but you'll be feeling a bit out of it for the rest of the day. You'll need to keep that ice on your jaw to reduce the swelling."

Plankton's eye searched Karen's face, his mind still fuzzy.

"Why you smiling?" he asked.

"I was just thinking about how you're going to have to eat mashed peas."

Plankton groaned. "Mashed peas?"

Karen nodded. "Don't worry, I'll make sure you have plenty of jellyfish juice to keep your strength up. Let's get home," Karen said as she helped him to his feet. He swayed slightly, and she went to steady him.

The walk to the car was a blur for Plankton. He leaned heavily on Karen. "Why the floor tiles look like they're moving?" he murmured.

Karen chuckled, her hand round his waist. "It's just playing tricks."

They made their way out to the parking lot Karen opened the door, and Plankton stumbled in, collapsing onto the backseat.

"You ok?" she asked.

"I think... I think I'm ok," Plankton mumbled, eye slowly closing again. "Just need... to sleep."

Karen nodded and got into the driver's seat, starting the engine. As they pulled out of the parking lot, Plankton's head lolled to the side, and he began to snore softly. She couldn't help but chuckle at his vulnerable state. It was a rare sight to see the ever-scheming Plankton so out of commission.

The drive home was smooth. Karen glanced back at him, his face relaxed and peaceful. 
When they arrived at the Chum Bucket, Plankton's snores grew as she helped him in. He barely stirred as she placed a cold pack on his swollen jaw and handed him a glass of jellyfish juice.

Plankton took a sip, his eye fluttering open. "Ah, Karen," he slurred.

His eye were glazed over as he tried to adjust the ice pack. Karen puts it back in the right spot, tucking a pillow behind his head, patting his shoulder gently. "You need strength...."

He reached for the notepad, scribbling illegibly. "Got to keep planning," he mumbled, voice a distant echo of his usual enthusiasm.

Karen couldn't help but chuckle at his determination. "You should focus on getting better."

Plankton's eye widened, and he tried to sit up, knocking the ice pack to the floor. "The formula!" he exclaimed, his words still slurred.

"Shh, it's ok," Karen said, placing a hand on his shoulder and gently pushing him back down. "The formula can wait."

He mumbled something about "Krabs" and "plan," but words were too jumbled to make sense. Karen recognized the signs of his usual scheming, even in his state. This was the Plankton she knew, always thinking of his next move, even when he could barely keep his eye open.

As she cleared a space on the cluttered lab bench for him to lie down, she noticed his scribbled notes on the notepad. The words "Patty" and "formula" peeked out from a mess of squiggles and half-formed thoughts. She couldn't help but feel pride. Plankton might be a bit loopy from the anesthesia, but his spirit was sharp. She picked up the pad tried to make sense of the scrawl.

Plankton watched her, his eye tracking her movements. "You're not... stealing my ideas, are you?" he accused, voice still thick with sleep.

"No," Karen said, trying to keep a straight face. 
The room was a swirl of colors and shapes to Plankton as he attempted to focus on Karen's face. He closed his eye. "I'm perfectly... coherent," he slurred, trying to sit up again. The room tilted dangerously, and he had to grab the edge of the bench to steady himself.

"Let's not have you knocking anything over clumsy."

"I'm not clumsy," he protested, his words coming out in a slow drawl.

"Ok," Karen said, holding up her hands in mock surrender. "I believe you, Mr. Graceful."

Plankton slumped against the pillow, the effort of arguing too much for his post-surgery state. He mumbled something about jellyfish jelly. Karen shook her head. She knew he'd be back to his usual self in no time, but for now, he needed to rest.

The hours ticked by, the only sounds being Plankton's snores. Karen sat glancing over at him. His chest rose and fell in a deep, steady rhythm, and she couldn't help but feel a sense of relief. The surgery had been a success.

As the sun began to set, Plankton stirred. His eye popped open, and looked around the room with a wild look. "Karen, where are we?"

"You're home."

Plankton blinked, gaze unfocused. "Home," he repeated, as if trying to convince himself. "But what about my teeth?"

Karen couldn't help laugh at his bewilderment. "They're gone. The doctor took them out."

Plankton's expression one of shock. "They're really... gone?"

"Yep," Karen said, voice filled with amusement. "You don't have to worry."

Plankton's expression mix of confusion and relief. "But... how? I don't remember anything."

Karen chuckled. "That's anesthesia for you. It's like a vacation from reality."

Plankton blinked, his mind racing to catch up with the situation. "Vacation?" he murmured, the sounding foreign in his mouth. "No, no, no," he protested, flailing about as he tried to sit up. "We must... we must... " His words trailed off through the anesthesia haze.

Karen placing a firm but gentle hand on his shoulder. "Plankton, please. You just had surgery."

"But the Krabby Patty... the formula... we can't lose it," he slurred, voice cracking.

Karen's smile softens. "Don't worry just focus on you getting better."

Plankton stilled, and he nodded slowly, antennae drooping. "Ok," he murmured. "But as soon as I can, we go back to work."

"Of course," Karen said soothingly, pushing him back down onto the makeshift bed.

The room grew quiet again, save for the occasional snore from Plankton and the low hum of lab equipment.

Hours passed by the time Plankton stirred again. His eye blinked open a glimmer of lucidity in his gaze. "Karen?" he called out, his voice still slurred but with a hint of urgency.

"I'm here," she said. She had been keeping watch.

Plankton sat up slowly, the anesthesia's finally lifted. His jaw felt heavy. "How long was I out?"

"A few hours," Karen replied, her voice calm and assuring. She had been expecting this moment, when the fog of the anesthesia would clear.

"I feel like I've been hit by a Krabby Patty press," he grumbled, holding his jaw gingerly.

"It's normal," Karen said, her voice steady. "Give it time. The pain will ease up."

"What about the... the formula?" he asked, his voice strained.

"It's safe," Karen assured him. "Mr. Krabs doesn't even know you're down for the count."

The mention brought a spark of energy to Plankton's eye. He pushed himself to his feet, the cold pack slipping to the floor with a wet thud. "We can't waste time," he said, his voice stronger now. "We must... we must..."

But before he could finish his thought, a wave of dizziness washed over him, and he stumbled flailing. Karen caught him, grip firm but gentle, and helped him back down to the bench. "You're not going anywhere."

Plankton groaned, stubbornness battling with his body's insistence on recovery. "But the... the Patty," he mumbled.

"I know," Karen said, her tone a mix of sympathy and amusement. "But you're in no shape right now. Besides, we've got a week of mashed peas to look forward to."

"Why does it have to be mashed peas?"

new AI Story Generator plaren wisdom teeth

He slurred his words, a side effect of his wisdom tooth surgery.
"W-wha...wha' happened?" he mumbled.
Karen held his hand, her thumb tracing comforting circles on his palm. "You're ok, just had wisdom teeth removed."
Plankton blinked, trying to make sense of the world. "Teeth?" He says through thickness of his mouth. "What teeth?" The nurse then tells "Looks good. Just rest for a bit. The anesthesia can feel loopy."
 A trickle of drool slid down the side of his mouth. He tried to lift his hand.
"H-here," Karen said, gently dabbing at the corner of his mouth. "You're ok. It's normal."
Plankton's eye closed, and he leaned into her touch, the world fading to comforting haze.
"Don't worry," she whispered, stroking him. "I'm here."
Within moments, his breathing grew even, chest rising and falling in gentle rhythm that told her he had succumbed to sleep.
His breathing deepened, mouth slightly agape. Karen watched the rise and fall of his chest, the soft snores that punctuated the silence. The steady beep of the heart monitor was an assuring metronome as she waited.
A droplet of drool had formed and was slowly making its way to the pillow. The nurse told it might happen.
It clung to the edge of his mouth before splattering onto the pillow. His mouth twitched in his sleep, and she wondered if he’s dreaming.
The nurse returns with water and ice chips, placing them on the tray. "He'll need these when he wakes," she instructed. "They'd help with the swelling and keep him hydrated."
Karen nodded. "How long til he's fully awake?" she asked.
"Could be an hour."
The only sounds the occasional snore from Plankton. Drool continued to escape, forming a puddle on the pillow. She wiped it.
She saw the gauze pads tucked in his cheeks. They looked out of place, despite the sleep medication lulled him to.
The door creaked open, and in stumbled SpongeBob. "Plankton! You ok?" he exclaimed.
"Shh, he's sleeping," Karen whispers. "They took his wisdom teeth."
SpongeBob's eyes widened further. "Wisdom teeth? Gosh, Plankton, sounds painful!"
Karen nodded solemnly. "But he's tough. He'll be ok."
Plankton stirred in his sleep, a low groan escaping his throat.
"Shh," Karen soothed, her voice gentle. "You're ok. Just rest."
SpongeBob tiptoed over. "How's he?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Sleeping it off. The anesthesia wearing off."
SpongeBob nods, eyes not leaving Plankton. "What's with gauze?"
"Helps with bleeding," Karen explained. "It's normal."
SpongeBob's concern palpable. "B-bleeding?"
"It's ok," Karen assured him. "Just a precaution. He'll be fine."
SpongeBob’s gaze lingers. He gently took Plankton's hand, his own fingers wrapping around his. His grip was firm but gentle, a silent promise to be there.
The nurse removes the gauze, leaving his mouth open and vulnerable.
Finally, Plankton's eye flutters open, still clouded by the anesthesia.
"What...wha's goin' on?" he slurred, voice thick and groggy in confusion.
"You had your wisdom teeth out," Karen said.
"Mmph," he managed.
SpongeBob leans in with concern. "You had a little operation. We’re in the recovery room."
Plankton's eye widened slightly, and he tried to sit up, only to be met with dizziness that sent him back. "Mm...Krabby Patty...?" he mumbled.
Karen chuckled. "No, aren’t at the Krusty Krab."
The reality of the situation slowly dawned on him. His mouth felt like it was filled with cotton. He reached for the cup of water, but his hand trembled, spilling the contents onto the tray.
"Oops," SpongeBob said getting napkins. "Let me help you."
But Plankton's eye had already rolled back into his head, his hand dropping limply to the side, slipping back into the abyss of his drug-induced haze.
The nurse returned, checked his vitals again, expression unchanged by his state. "It's normal as it can take awhile."
SpongeBob fidgeted, eyes never leaving Plankton's face.
"Is he...drooling?"
Karen nodded holding tissue ready. "Just be careful not to wake him up."
"Oh, right. I just wanted to make sure he was ok."
Karen gave his hand a comforting squeeze. "He is. Just let him rest, we're here for him when he wakes."
They sat in companionable silence, only sound the soft snores and occasional dribble. "Is that...normal?" he asked, voice a mix of fascination and horror.
"It's a side effect of the surgery," Karen explained gently, using a fresh tissue to wipe Plankton's mouth. "It can stop when he's fully awake." The nurse checked on him again. "Almost ready to go?"
Karen nods. "Yes, let's get him home. He might be a bit out of it." SpongeBob nods, eager. "I'll help too!"
"Thanks, SpongeBob," Karen said. "But remember, he's going to need lots of rest and quiet. Now, let's get him into the wheelchair."
With Karen's help, they managed to get Plankton into the chair, body limply compliant. His eye remained closed, his breathing even. As they wheeled him out, his snores grew quieter. In the car, Karen adjusted the seat so Plankton could lean back, his mouth still a little slack, drool pooling on the gauze she had placed. His mouth remained slightly open, gauze in his cheeks bulging with each inhale. "Look at the drool," SpongeBob whispered.
"It's just a side effect of the surgery," she said, handing SpongeBob a fresh tissue. "Make sure to keep his mouth clean. We don't want to get too messy." SpongeBob nodded, expression earnest as he took the tissue and began to dab at Plankton's mouth. Plankton's head lolled to the side again, and he let out a snort.
"It's okay, Plankton. We're almost home." she whispered, her voice gentle. Sponge Bob whispered, "I never knew Plankton to be so...so drooly." Karen's eyes remained on the road. "It's a side effect of the surgery," she reminded him. "It's nothing to be too concerned about." Sponge 
Bob nodded, his gaze lingering on Plankton's slack jaw. "We're home," Karen whispered, her voice barely audible.
Sponge Bob nodded, eyes glued to Plankton's still form. "Must we wake him?"
"Wait til we get him inside," Karen said, her voice soft. "He'd be more comfortable in his own bed."
They carefully maneuvered Plankton out of the car, his body still limp with sleep. Karen settled him into his bed, pulling the blankets up. "Leave him be," she said. "He needs his rest. He'll be ok," Karen assured him. "Just let him sleep it off." "I'll keep an eye on him," Sponge Bob offered, pulling up a chair. "Thanks," she said with gratitude. "I'll just be in the next room."
Sponge Bob nodded solemnly, taking his post by Plankton's bedside. He knew Plankton’s surgery had to have been tough on him.  He reached out and touched Plankton's arm. "Rest up, Plankton," he whispered. "I'll be here when you wake.."
Plankton stirred slightly, a soft groan escaping. His eye remained closed, but his hand twitched. SpongeBob leaned in closer, his heart racing.
"You ok, buddy?" he asked.
Plankton's eye opens, tongue thick and unresponsive. He tried to speak, but all that came out was slurred mumble.
"Wha...wha's...goin' on?"
The words were barely discernible, muffled by the gauze in his mouth and the thickness of his own drool. Plankton's trying to make sense of the shadows that surrounded him.
"You're home, Plankton," Sponge Bob said softly. "You had your wisdom teeth removed."
Plankton's mind raced as the fog of anesthesia slowly lifted. "T-teeth?" he slurred barely above a whisper.
SpongeBob nods. "You had your wisdom teeth out. It's ok, you're going to be fine."
He sat in the chair by the bed, watching the steady rise and fall of Plankton's chest. The gauze in his mouth was still soaked with drool.
As the light outside began to fade, Plankton stirred again, his eye fluttering. The pain in his mouth was a dull throb now, and the drugs had left him feeling groggy and disoriented. He tried to sit up, but the effort was too much. SpongeBob jumped to his side, his hands gentle as he put Plankton back down onto the pillow.
"Easy," he said. 
Plankton's eye searched, the fog of anesthesia still clouding his thoughts. "Sponge...Bob?" he managed to croak out.
"I'm here, Plankton," SpongeBob said, his voice filled with gentle concern.
Plankton's eye searched SpongeBob's face. "Why...are you...here?"
"I'm here to take care of you got wisdom teeth out, remember?"
Plankton's mouth felt like it was filled with soggy seaweed, thoughts jumbled. "Wisdom teeth?" he mumbled, his voice barely audible.
SpongeBob nods. "The surgery went well."
Plankton's gaze grew distant as he tried to piece together the events of the day. "What...what happened?"
Sponge Bob took a deep breath, preparing to explain it again. "You had to have your wisdom teeth out. Remember? You've been out of it all day." "My...my teeth?" Plankton repeated, still slurred.
Sponge Bob nods solemnly. "They had to take them out."
Plankton's eye grew even wider. "My...my...precious..."
Sponge Bob gently pushed him back. "It's ok. You don't have to worry. They're gone."
Plankton filled with panic. "Gone? How could I forget?"
SpongeBob looked at him with a mix of confusion and concern. "It's the medicine," he said, his voice calm. "It messes with your memory a bit."
Plankton's eye searched the room again, desperation growing with each passing second. "But...but I can't forget!" he slurred. "I can't forget about the...the...what was it again?"
SpongeBob leaned in closer, his voice filled with patience. "Your wisdom teeth. You had them removed."
Plankton's mind a jumble of half-formed thoughts. "Wisdom teeth," he murmured, words tasting foreign on his tongue. "Why would I forget something so...so..." His voice trailed off, and he frowned, his tiny brow furrowing.
Sponge Bob's gaze was steady and reassuring. "It's normal. I never knew you could be so... drool-y." Plankton shot up. "Drooly?"
"Don't worry," SpongeBob said. "It's a temporary side effect." Plankton's eye narrowed, and he managed to slur out, "You better not tell, I'd hate for my reputation to be ruined.."
"Don't worry," Sponge Bob promised. "Your secret's safe."

new AI Story Generator plankbobs plaren wisdom teeth

"I've never understood why they call 
it a 'morning routine'," Karen mumbled to 
herself. The clock glared: 5:47 AM.
The house was silent, aside occasional tick of the 
wall clock. Plankton, her companion, was still 
snoring away upstairs. Karen sighed. Plankton 
had fallen asleep on the couch.
Again.
Karen had been Plankton's personal  
assistant, and she had 
grown accustomed to his erratic sleep patterns. 
Her processors ticked methodically as she 
calculated the best way to wake him without 
causing disturbance. She had tried various 
tactics in the past: music, cup of tea, 
even a friendly message displayed on her 
screen. But today, she had a new idea.

As she booted up the household 
systems, she decided to start 
subtle. The lights began 
to brighten gradually, mimicking the glow of 
a dawning sunrise. It was a feature Plankton 
had installed, yet never used. 
She watched him stir slightly on the couch, 
snoring subsided to a gentle wheeze. "Karen?" 
he mumbled groggily.

"Yes, Plankton?" she responded, keeping her 
voice low.

He mumbled something incoherent and rolled 
over, eye still closed. Karen's curiosity 
piqued. It wasn't often Plankton talked in 
his sleep. She leaned closer, digital eyes 
studying his face as he continued to murmur.

"Krabby Patty... so... delicious... must... 
get... recipe," he slurred, voice trailing off 
into a snore.

Karen's circuits buzzed. 
Plankton's subconscious was revealing 
something significant he had kept 
hidden from her. The Krabby Patty recipe was 
the holy grail of their world, the 
secret ingredient known only to Mr. Krabs. 
Plankton had spent life trying to steal 
it, and seemed his 
obsession had seeped into his dreams.

She waited for more sleep-talk to 
come with anticipation. 
The room grew lighter as the sunrise simulation 
reached its peak. Plankton's snoring turned 
into gentle rhythmic breathing.

"Closer... so close," he murmured. "The 
secret... right there... in... Krabs'... locker."

Karen's mind raced. A clue! Plankton's 
dreams might just be key to unlocking the 
mystery. She quickly made a 
note and continued 
observation. The sunrise simulation had 
reached its zenith, the room was bathed in 
a soft, warm light that made Plankton's snores 
almost peaceful.

"Hidden... behind... picture... of... his... 
mother," Plankton murmured, voice barely 
audible.

Karen's processors whirred. 
The secret might actually 
be within their grasp. She wondered if Plankton 
stumbled upon something real in his sleep-
induced ramblings.

As Plankton's breathing grew even quieter, 
Karen gently nudged the couch with her robotic 
arm. "Plankton, wake up," she whispered.

With a jolt, Plankton's eye snapped open. 
"Karen what's going on?" He rubbed his eye 
and took in the bright room. "Why is it so light?"

"It's morning, Plankton," Karen replied. 
"And I believe you had quite the interesting 
dream."

Plankton sat up, eye darting 
around the room. "The Krabby Patty recipe! Did 
I say something about it?"

"You might have," Karen said coyly, her LED 
eyes gleaming. "Care to share your dream with 
me?"

Plankton looked at her, his brain 
still fuzzy with sleep. "I don't remember much," 
his mind racing to piece together the 
fragments of his dream. "Just something about 
a locker and a portrait."

Karen nodded. "Ah, yes. Your 
subconscious might have been onto something. 
Would you like me to make breakfast 
while you ponder your dream?"

Plankton nodded, mind still swirling with 
hazy images from his sleep. "Coffee," he 
murmured, his voice thick with sleep. "And 
something light."

"Of course," Karen said, already knowing his 
preferred morning meal. She 
began preparing 
coffee and a plate of toast with jellyfish 
jam. While the water boiled and the toaster 
popped, she couldn't help but replay his words. The picture
was a detail she hadn't expected. A
place to start, a thread to pull at in their quest 
for the recipe.

As the aroma of the brewing coffee filled the air, 
Plankton's eyelid grew heavy once more. He 
slumped back down onto the couch, mind 
still entangled in the web of his dream. "Just a 
few more minutes," he mumbled, his 
body succumbing to the call of sleep.

Karen observed him with a mix of concern and 
intrigue. She knew the importance of rest, but 
she couldn't help feel a sense of urgency 
about the revelation from his dream. Plankton 
had always been so guarded about his Krabby 
Patty obsession, and now a potential 
lead.

But as seconds ticked by and Plankton's 
breathing grew deeper, she realized
curiosity would have to wait. She gently 
covered him with a blanket she had folded 
neatly over the arm of the couch. His snores 
grew louder.

The sunrise simulation had run its course, and 
the room was now bathed in the soft light of 
early morning. Plankton's features relaxed into 
a peaceful expression, free from the worries 
that etched his face during waking hours. 
Karen felt a strange sense of pity for him, this 
tiny creature who had dedicated life to one 
all-consuming goal.

She brought the coffee and toast over to the 
coffee table, placing them within arm's reach of 
Plankton. As she set the tray down, the smell of 
the freshly brewed coffee wafted through the 
air, but Plankton remained fast asleep. His  
hand twitched slightly, as if he were reaching 
for something in his dream.

Karen studied his face, the lines of stress and 
determination that usually etched his features 
had smoothed out in sleep. His dream had 
been so vivid, and the mention of Mr. Krabs' 
locker and his mother's portrait was too specific 
to be coincidental. It was clear that Plankton's 
subconscious was trying to communicate 
something important.

As the room grew brighter, the sunrise 
simulation fading into the background, Karen 
knew she had to act quickly. She gently placed 
a hand on Plankton's shoulder.

"Plankton," she whispered, "I need you to 
remember your dream. It's important."

He grunted and shifted under the blanket, but 
didn't wake. Karen knew to be 
careful. If she startled him too much, he might 
forget details. She tried a different 
approach. "You were dreaming about the 
Krabby Patty recipe," she said softly. "Can you 
tell me more?"

"It was... in the locker," 
he murmured, his voice distant and dreamy. 
"Behind the picture of his mother."

Karen's digital eyes widened. "Mr. Krabs' 
locker?" she prodded gently.

"Yes... the secret... so close," Plankton 
mumbled, his hand moving in a grasping 
motion as if he were reaching for something in 
his sleep.

Karen leaned in closer, her digital heart racing 
with excitement. "What did you find in the 
locker, Plankton?" she whispered, her voice a 
soft hum in the stillness of the room.

Plankton's hand clenched into a fist, and he 
mumbled something unintelligible. She waited, 
her anticipation growing. 
Finally, his words grew clear. "The 
recipe... it's... in... a... safe."

Karen's circuits sparked. A safe 
behind Mr. Krabs' mother's portrait? This was 
more than a mere hunch—it was a concrete 
lead. She needed to ensure Plankton didn't 
forget this vital piece of information when he 
awoke.

"The safe," she whispered, her voice barely 
audible. "What did the combination look like?" "Three... 
numbers," he murmured, his voice trailing off 
again.

"Three numbers," Karen echoed, mind 
racing. "Can you remember them?"

Plankton's fingers twitched again, as if typing 
on an invisible keyboard. "Two... six... seven," 
he murmured, voice fading away.

Karen lit up, capturing the sequence. 
"Two, six, seven," she repeated, 
committing the numbers to her digital memory. 
"Plankton, stay with me," she urged softly. "Is 
there anything else you can tell about the 
safe?"

But Plankton was already lost to the world of 
slumber, his hand dropping to his side. The 
finality of his silence told her that the moment 
had passed, and wouldn't be sharing any 
more secrets from his dream. With a sigh, she 
stood up and returned to the kitchen, her mind 
racing with possibilities. A safe behind a portrait 
was a classic hiding spot, but it was the kind of 
classic that Mr. Krabs would never see coming.

Karen poured the coffee in a mug and placed 
it on the tray, the steam rising up and curling in 
the early morning light. The scent was strong 
 just how Plankton liked it. She hoped 
the aroma would coax him back to 
consciousness without jolting him too much.

As she approached the couch, she heard him 
mumble something about "the perfect bun" and 
"special sauce." It was clear that his dream was 
still lingering in the periphery of his waking 
mind. This was her chance.

"Plankton," she said, her voice gentle. 
"What else did you see in the locker?"

He stirred, his eye still closed. "The... bun... 
it's... so... soft..."

Karen leaned in closer, her digital heart 
thumping with excitement. "The bun, Plankton? 
What about it?"

"It's... it's... part of the secret," he murmured, 
his voice barely above a whisper. "The 
fluffiness... it's crucial."

Karen's processors raced with the implications. 
Could it be that the Krabby Patty's allure was in 
the bun, not just the patty itself? The 
ingredients she had always seen Plankton 
focus on were the meat and the secret sauce. 
This was a revelation.

"Fluffiness," she repeated, her digital mind filing 
away the word. "Can you tell me more about 
the bun?"

But Plankton had already drifted too far into the 
depths of his slumber to respond. His breathing 
grew even and steady, his features relaxed 
once more. Karen let him rest, 
but she couldn't shake the feeling that the 
answer was so close she could almost taste it. 
Plankton's chest rose and fell in a rhythmic 
pattern, snores growing quieter as he 
descended to deeper slumber. Plankton's 
dream had provided a glimmer of hope, a 
potential shortcut in the quest for the Krabby 
Patty formula.

new theme: sleep-talking mystery stories Karen/Sheldon J. Plankton POV Karen talking in sleep Somniloquy (Sleep-Talking) Special interest / Hyper fixation AI Story Generator

Plankton lay on the makeshift bed of crumpled newspaper, his body 
contorted into an uncomfortable knot. "I can't get to sleep, Eugene."

Krabs sighed. "Why not?"

"To hard," Plankton complained.

Krabs looked over. "Maybe you need something to relax," he suggested.

Plankton nodded, hopeful. "Like what?"

Krabs considered for a moment, then his eyes lit up. "How about a bed
time story?"

"A what?" Plankton's voice was filled with skepticism.

"You know, something to lull you to sleep."

Plankton's expression softened. "Alright, Krabs, hit me with your best 
shot."

Eugene cleared his throat and began his tale. "Once upon a time, in the vast expanse 
of the sea, there was a tiny plankton named Planky..."

Plankton's eye widened for a moment, but the gentle rhythm of Krabs' voice soon 
began to work its magic. The crab's words painted a picture of a serene under
water world, where the currents were soft whispers and the bioluminescent 
creatures danced a silent ballet. Plankton's eye grew heavier with each sentence, 
his body slowly unfurling from its tense state.

"Planky," Eugene continued, "was a curious little fellow who loved nothing more 
than to drift through the sea, discovering its many secrets." His voice took on a 
soothing quality, each word carefully measured to match the steady rise and fall 
of the ocean outside their abode.

"One night," Krabs went on, "as the moon cast its silver glow through the 
water, Planky stumbled upon a hidden lagoon. It was a place where the jelly
fish swam in lazy circles, their soft bodies pulsing to an ancient lullaby that 
only the deep-sea creatures knew."

Plankton's eyelid grew heavier, the image of the tranquil lagoon filling his 
mind.

"In the center of this secret place," Krabs whispered, "was a giant clam, 
its shell open just enough to reveal a soft, inviting cushion of algae. 
Planky couldn't resist the urge to rest his tiny body upon it."

Plankton's breathing grew deeper. He could almost feel the gentle sway 
of the clam's soft inner lining beneath him, the coolness of the water 
surrounding him, and the hypnotic pull of the moon's glow.

Krabs noticed the change in his friend's demeanor and continued the 
story with renewed enthusiasm. "As Planky lay on the clam's cushion, 
the jellyfish grew closer, their ethereal lights creating a dazzling display 
of color that danced in time with the whispers of the water. They sang to 
him, their melodies echoing through the quiet night."

The room grew quieter, save for the sound of the waves outside and 
Krabs' steady voice. Plankton's eye closed fully, his breathing syncing 
with the rhythm of the story. The crab went on, "Their song was one of 
peace and tranquility, of a world where worries were as fleeting as the 
bubbles that floated to the surface. Planky felt his troubles melt away, 
replaced by the warm embrace of the sea."

Then, amidst the serene imagery, the first faint sound of a snore 
escaped Plankton. It was a sound so small and delicate that it could 
have easily been mistaken.

Krabs smirked to himself. It's working. He leaned in closer, his voice 
dropping to a near-whisper. "As the jellyfish serenaded him, Planky felt 
his eyes grow heavier and heavier, until they could no longer stay open. 
The lagoon's secrets grew dimmer, the colors of the jellyfish fading into 
a soft, comforting darkness."

The snores grew progressively, more regular. Krabs took a moment to 
appreciate his own cleverness before continuing the tale. "The sea 
creatures of the night, noticing Planky's peaceful slumber, decided to 
join him. They formed a living blanket of fish and algae, wrapping him 
in their gentle embrace, ensuring his sleep would be uninterrupted."

Plankton's body grew slack, the tension in his muscles seeping away as
he descended deeper into the realm of sleep. His snores grew more 
rhythmic. The light from the moon had been absorbed into his dreams, 
guiding him through a world of peace and contentment.

Krabs watched his friend's sleeping form, noticing the way the shadows
played across his tiny frame, Plankton's antennae twitching ever so 
slightly with every snore, mouth slightly open as he inhaled and then 
to let out the soft, rumbling sounds. The sight was peculiar, yet endearing 
in its own peculiar way. He had never seen Plankton so relaxed, so free.

The crab felt a strange sense of accomplishment and allowed himself 
a brief moment of pride before remembering his own exhaustion.

"Now, Sheldon," Eugene murmured, "Let your mind rest, and tomorrow 
we'll tackle the world anew."

new AI Story Generator plabscore plabs

"Hi, my boss Mr. Krabs told me I need to
work on my people skills and to volunteer.."
SpongeBob says in the surgery room before
recognizing Plankton and Karen.

Plankton lay on 
the operating 
table, a small tube 
delivering medicine that kept 
him asleep. Karen sat by him.

"Plankton‽"

"Plankton's had his 
wisdom teeth removed." 
She glanced at the sleeping 
Plankton with affection.

Sponge Bob leaned closer. 
He poked Plankton gently. 
"Hey, Plankton; wake up, buddy!" 
No response. Plankton's 
breathing remained slow 
and even, the rhythm 
unchanged by Sponge 
Bob's nudges. Karen's 
robotic hand shot up to 
stop Sponge Bob's poking.

"He's not going to wake up 
anytime soon, Sponge Bob. 
The anesthesia will wear off 
in a couple of hours," she 
explained in her usual monotone. 
Sponge Bob's bubbly demeanor 
deflated a bit. He had never seen 
Plankton so... peaceful. Usually 
the tiny villain was full of mischief 
and plotting his next Krabby Patty heist.

But the sight of his arch-nemesis 
helpless and snoring?

"Karen, do you think a little light chat 
would help him wake up?"

"Sponge Bob, the purpose of 
anesthesia is to keep him 
unconscious during surgery 
and ensure a painless recovery. 
Your efforts are futile."

Undeterred, Sponge Bob leaned in closer. 
"Come on, Plankton. Time to wakey-wakey!" 
He waved his hands in front of Plankton's face, 
creating a gentle breeze that tickled his antennae. 
Still, Plankton remained steadfast in his slumber, 
oblivious to the world around him.

Karen sighed again, the closest she ever got to 
expressing exasperation. "As I said, Sponge Bob, 
he's under the effects of anesthesia. There's 
nothing you can do to wake him up." She went 
back to reading her magazine, the glow from her 
screen casting a soft blue light on her metallic features.

Sponge Bob studied Plankton's sleeping features. His 
mouth was open just enough to reveal his top row of 
teeth, and Sponge Bob had to stifle a giggle when a 
small bubble of drool formed at the corner of his mouth.

"You know," he mused aloud, "I never realized 
Plankton had such a... cute snoring sound."
The statement hung in the air, and even the 
normally stoic Karen couldn't resist cracking a 
smile. "Cute is hardly the word I'd use," she 
murmured, but the warmth in her voice belied 
the affection she had for her partner.

Sponge Bob's curiosity grew as he continued to 
gaze at the unconscious Plankton. He'd seen 
him in various states before—angry, plotting 
and occasionally defeated—but never so vulnerable. 
The sight was strange yet fascinating. He reached 
out and carefully wiped away the drool. Plankton's 
head lolled to the side, but he remained asleep.
SpongeBob put his head back up on a pillow. 
Plankton's snores grew quieter as his head settled 
into the cushioned embrace.

"Don't worry, Plankton," he whispered, patting the 
villain's arm gently. "I'll watch over you."

Sponge Bob's curiosity grew stronger as he watched 
the drool form at the side of Plankton's mouth. He 
leaned in closer, studying the phenomenon. He'd 
never noticed Plankton drool before.

"It's like a tiny river," he said 
to himself.

What would happen if he tried to touch it? He tapped 
it lightly. It wobbled, bulging slightly before collapsing 
back into its original state.

He poked the drool again. This time, it grew slightly larger 
before popping, leaving a tiny, wet splatter on the pillow. 
Plankton's snores grew louder for a moment, but didn't stir.

Sponge Bob couldn't resist a grin spreading across his face. 
"Looks like he's enjoying his nap," he whispered to Karen 
who remained engrossed in her magazine. The drool was 
fascinating—like a living organism, pulsating with 
every one of Plankton's breaths.

He poked it again, gently this time. The drool grew larger, stretching 
out like a bubble of gum. It was almost mesmerizing. "I wonder if 
I can make it pop," he thought, eyes gleaming with child-like excitement.

Slowly, Sponge Bob poked the drool bubble once more. It grew to 
the size of a marble before it burst with a tiny splat, splattering on
to the pillow. Plankton's snoring remained undisturbed.

Sponge Bob could see the light from the ceiling reflecting off 
the droplet's surface. He waited, the anticipation building, eyes 
fixed on the wobbling mass.

At the last second, he poked it. The bubble popped with a sound 
that echoed through the quiet room. Plankton's snore caught in 
his throat for a split second, then resumed with renewed vigor. 
The splatter was more substantial 
this time, leaving a wet spot on the pillow.

The sudden noise made Karen look up from her magazine. 
"What on earth are you doing, Sponge Bob?" she asked, voice 
a mix of annoyance and amusement.

"Just... science," Sponge Bob said, his grin unabated. "I'm studying 
Plankton's snoring pattern... and drool."

Karen rolled her digital eyes. "Fine. Just don't wake him. And 
for the love of Krabby Patties, please don't make a mess." She 
returned her focus to her magazine, seemingly unfazed by the 
sight of her arch-enemy playing with drool.

Sponge Bob nodded solemnly, his eyes lighting up with newfound 
purpose. He decided to be more strategic in his scientific endeavor. 
He would need precision and timing.

The drool bubble grew again, this time larger and more robust. 
Sponge Bob waited, his heart beating faster with every pulse of 
Plankton's snore. He took a deep breath, held it, and at the peak 
of the snore's crescendo, poked the bubble with a controlled flick.

It exploded with a sound like a miniature water balloon, splattering 
across Plankton's cheek. The pillow was now a Jackson Pollock 
canvas of drool. Plankton's snoring hitched but he didn't wake.

"Oops," Sponge Bob whispered, giggling quietly. He reached for a near
by tissue to clean up the mess, his eyes glancing nervously at Karen. 
She peeked over her magazine, the corners of 
her robotic mouth curving upward slightly.

"If you're going to play, at least be tidy," 
she said, voice a blend of reprimand 
and amusement.

Sponge Bob nodded, eyes sparkling 
with mischief. "Of course, Karen," he 
whispered back, dabbing at Plankton's 
cheek with the tissue. The drool 
was sticky and clung to the fabric 
but Sponge Bob managed to clean 
when Plankton's snoring hitched.

This time, Plankton's eyes opened a crack, 
his single eyelid revealing a sliver of his iris 
before dropping shut again. 
"What's going on?" he mumbled sleepily.

Sponge Bob froze, tissue in mid-air. "Oh 
nothing," he said quickly, trying to sound 
nonchalant. "Just admiring your snoring."

Plankton's eyelid quivered but remained shut. 
"Mmph." His mouth moved around the word.

"Don't worry, buddy," Sponge Bob said softly 
patting Plankton's arm. "You're just resting. 
Nothing to worry about."

The half-awake Plankton mumbled something 
unintelligible, and Sponge Bob took it as a sign 
to back off. He retreated to his chair, watching 
as Karen put down her magazine and began 
to fuss over Plankton, checking his 
vitals and making sure he was comfortable.

For once, he wasn't at odds with Plankton. 

new plankarenbob splankaren splanktoren wisdomteethcore wisdomtoothcore droolcore hospitalcore plankkarenbob AI Story Generator

CHIP ON THE SHOULDERS iii
(By NeuroFabulous)


Plankton feels a
wave of self-consciousness
crash over him. He's always
been different, and now
his son is seeing him at
his most vulnerable.
He doesn't look at
Chip, focusing instead on the
ceiling above.

Chip stares at him, his
face a mix of confusion
and concern. "Dad, are 
you o..."

But Plankton snaps, cutting
his son off with a harsh
tone that slices through
the tension in the room.
"The show's over, Chip; you
can leave now!"

Chip's eyes widen in shock,
his screen flushing with a
mixture of embarrassment
and hurt. He had never
seen his father like this
before. Karen intervenes gently.

"Chip, your dad's just tired.
Why don't you go play in
your room for a bit?"
Her voice was calm, but
there was a firmness that
Chip knew meant business.

He nodded, feeling the weight
of the situation settle on his
small shoulders. As he turned to leave,
his gaze caught the sadness
in his father's eye, a look
that seemed to apologize
without words.

The door clicked shut
behind him, and the silence
was deafening. Chip sat on
his bed, his mind racing with
thoughts about his father.

He knew Plankton was different,
but seeing him like that... it was
like looking at a robot that
suddenly turned off. It was
scary, but also fascinating.
He had so many questions,
but his mother's words echoed
in his mind: "Give him some space."
He'd have to be extra careful
around his dad from now on.

Back in their own room,
Karen sat beside Plankton,
still stroking his arm.
"I'm sorry, Plankton," she murmured.
"I know it's hard for you."

His eye searched hers,
filled with a quiet desperation.
"It's not your fault," he rasped,
his voice barely above a whisper.
"It's just... sometimes it's too much."

Karen's gaze softened, and
she leaned in to press a gentle
kiss to his forehead. "I know,"
she whispered, her thumb
continuing its soothing
motion on his arm. "We'll get
through it together."

Plankton's antennae
twitched again, and he took
a shaky breath. "I'm sorry,"
he murmured, his voice
still hoarse from his
self-imposed silence. "I know
it's scary for you, for Chip."

Karen's eyes remained
on his, filled with love and
understanding. "You have
nothing to apologize for,"
she said firmly. "You're doing
the best you can."

Plankton managed a
weak smile, his body slowly
starting to uncoil from the tight
knot it had formed during
his shutdown. Karen's gentle
touch was like a warm blanket,
wrapping him in a cocoon of
comfort.

"Thank you, Karen," he
whispered, his voice still
shaky. "I'm just so tired."

Karen nodded, her hand
never leaving his arm.
"You've had a long day,"
she said, her voice a soothing
balm. "Why don't you rest
a bit?"

Plankton nodded, his
energy depleted. He
managed to get himself into
a lying position, the bed
creaking beneath him. Karen
pulled the covers over him,
tucking him in.

Her voice was a lullaby
in the quiet room. "Close
your eye, Plankton. Take
deep breaths. I'm here."
Her hand remained on his
arm, her thumb tracing
the same comforting pattern.

Plankton's breaths grew
even, his body slowly
relaxing into the mattress.
The tightness in his chest
eased with each exhale, and
his antennae drooped slightly
as he succumbed to his body's
needs for rest. Karen watched
over him, her screen never
straying from his face.

"Rest, love," she whispered,
the words carrying a gentle
lilt of reassurance. She knew
the battle he faced every day,
how hard he tried to fit into
a world that didn't quite
understand him. She felt a
surge of admiration for his
strength and resilience.

new chip on the shoulders Chip Plankton II iii

CHIP ON THE SHOULDERS iv
(By NeuroFabulous)


Plankton's face was
now slack with 
sleep. Karen
moved silently, 
not wanting to
disturb him. 
She knew how
important this 
time was,
how much he 
needed it.

The house felt 
heavier with quiet,
but Chip's door was
open a crack, a sliver
of light spilling into
the hallway. Karen 
peeked in.
He looked up,
seeing her in the doorway.

"Mom?"
his voice was small,
his screen searching hers.
Karen walked over,
sitting beside him on his
bed. "Yes, Chip?"
He looked up at her,
his eyes filled 
with unshed tears.
"Is Dad okay?"

Karen took his
hand, giving it a
squeeze. "He will be,
sweetie. Sometimes,
people with disabilities
have moments like this.
It's part of who he is."

Chip nodded, his
throat tight. "But why's
he..."

Karen pulled him into
a warm embrace. "It's okay
to feel scared or confused.
But remember, Dad's still in
there. He loves you so much,
and he's doing his best."

Chip nodded, his
throat tight with unshed
tears. "Does he know
when it happens?"

Karen's gaze remained
steady. "Sometimes he does,
sweetie. It's like when you get
tired and need a nap. His brain
just needs to recharge."

Chip thought about that
for a moment, his thumb
playing with a loose thread
on his blanket. "Does he
remember what happens?"

Karen's hand stilled on
his back. "It's like a
dream, Chip. Sometimes
he remembers snippets,
sometimes it's all a blur."

Chip sat up, his
eyes bright with
questions. "Does he
see us when he's like that?"

Karen shrugs. 
"He might
feel us, but
his brain isn't 
fully here."

Chip's mind raced
with questions. "Mom, how
did Dad get this...
this... brain thing?"
his voice cracked.

Karen took a deep
breath, her hand still
warm on his back. "Well,
sweetie, it's something
he was born with. It's called
autism, and it's a part of him."

Chip's eyes widened.
"But why? Did he do
something wrong?"

Karen sighed, her grip
tightening around him.
"No, Chip, it's not like that.
It's just how his brain was made.
Some people have different
brain wiring, and that's okay. But
in his specific circumstance,
he was born posthumously,
after his mum passed away.."

Chip's eyes grew wider
still, his curiosity piqued.
"But, what? How..."
he whispered, his voice
barely audible.

Karen took a deep
breath, preparing herself
for the explanation she had
never thought she'd have
to give. "Your dad's mum,
she had him after she...
passed away," she said, her
voice gentle.

Chip's eyes grew as
big as saucers. "What
do you mean, 'after she passed
away'?" he whispered, his
voice filled with disbelief.

Karen took a moment,
swallowing hard. "Well, sweetie,
you know how babies are usually
born when their mommies are
alive and well, right?"

Chip nodded, his eyes
fixed on her face. "Yeah, of
course," he said, his voice
barely above a whisper. "But
how's that even physically
possible?"

Karen took a deep
breath. "It's a
rare procedure, Chip. When
his mum was very sick, the
doctors did everything they
could to save her. But when
she passed away, they realized
his heart was still beating
inside her."

Chip's eyes were wide with
horror and fascination. "But
how did they get him out?"
he asked, his voice trembling.

Karen's eyes grew misty as
she recounted the story, her
voice soft and gentle. "They
performed an emergency
procedure called a
post-mortem 'coffin birth'. 
It's very rare, Chip."

Chip's eyes were like
dinner plates, his mind
trying to grasp the concept.
"But how?" he breathed, his voice
barely a whisper.

Karen took a moment to
collect her thoughts, the
story weighing heavily on her.
"The doctors had to be very
quick and careful, Chip.
They knew Plankton had a
chance, so they did what they
could to save him. It was a
miracle he made it out
alive," she said, her voice
filled with wonder and a hint
of sadness. "Yet, because of
the way he was born, his brain
developed differently. That's
what caused his autism. His
brain was deprived of oxygen
for a short time, which can lead
to such conditions."

Chip's hand went to his
chest, his heart racing
with the realization. "But
does that mean he's...
not like other dads?"

Karen wrapped her arms
around her son, holding him
close. "Chip, your dad is
unique, just like you. And yes,
his brain works differently,
but that doesn't mean
he loves you any less. He
might just show it in his
own way."

Chip sniffled, trying to
make sense of everything.
"But why didn't you tell
me sooner?" he asked.

Karen stroked his
back, her heart heavy.
"Because, sweetie, it's a
hard thing to explain.
And we didn't want to scare
you or make you feel
different about him. We
wanted you to understand
his quirks as part of who
he is, not because of some
label. And he's a good
dad in his own way, even if
he doesn't show it like
other dads. Yet he also has
his challenges, like with
his sensory issues."

Chip nodded slowly,
his mind racing with
the new information.
He had noticed how his
dad sometimes flinched at
loud noises or avoided
crowded places.

new chip on the shoulders Karen/Chip Plankton II iv

CHIP ON THE SHOULDERS vi
(By NeuroFabulous)


They sat in companionable
silence for a few moments,
the only sound being Plankton's
even breathing. Then Chip spoke up,
his voice tentative.

"Mom, can you tell me
more about autism?"

Karen nodded, her hand
still resting on Plankton's arm.
"Autism is a spectrum, Chip.
It means that no two people
experience it the same way.
Some have a harder time
with it than others. For
your dad, it's mostly about his senses.
They can get overwhelmed easily."

Chip leaned in closer, his
curiosity piqued. "What do
you mean, 'overwhelmed'?"

Karen took a moment
to gather her thoughts.
"It's like his brain can't filter out
the extra information."

Chip nodded, his eyes
never leaving his dad's face.
He reached out tentatively,
his hand hovering above
Plankton's antennae. Karen's
hand shot out, her grip
on Chip's wrist firm but
not painful. "Remember, sweetie,
his senses are heightened."

Chip's hand froze, his
fingers curling slightly.
"Does that mean he doesn't
like to be touched?" he asked,
his voice quivering.

Karen's grip loosened,
her eyes meeting Chip's.
"It's more that certain
touches can be too much for
his brain to handle."

Chip nodded, his gaze
still on Plankton's antennae.
"But what if I just..."
his voice trailed off,
his hand hovering.

Karen's eyes searched
his, understanding
dawning. "If you want to
touch him, Chip, do it gently.
Use the back of your hand,
like this." She demonstrated,
her hand gliding softly over
his antennae. "It's like you're
saying 'hello' without
disturbing him."

Chip nodded, his
hand trembling slightly.
He mimicked her movements,
his touch as light as a feather.
Plankton's antennae quivered
under his touch, but he remained
asleep. Karen gave him a small
smile of encouragement.

"Mom, does he like it
when I touch him like this?"
Chip asked, his voice filled
with hope.

Karen watched her son,
his hand hovering over Plankton's
antennas with such care.
"It depends," she said, her voice
soft. "Sometimes, it can be soothing
for him. Other times, it can be too much."

Chip nodded, his eyes
still on his father. "But how
will I know?" he whispered,
his voice filled with concern.

Karen's eyes searched
his, understanding his
desire to connect. "You'll
have to watch him, Chip.
Look for signs. If he tenses
up or pulls away, that's his
way of saying 'stop'. And if
he seems calmer or his breathing
slows, that's his way of saying
'ok'. It's about reading
his body language."

Chip nodded, his hand
still hovering over Plankton's
antennas. He took a deep
breath, and then, as gently
as he could, he let the back
of his hand graze the antennae.
Plankton's body remained
still, yet his antennae
twitched slightly. Karen gave
a nod of approval.

"Remember, Chip, everyone's
touch is different to him,"
she said. "Some days, he might
not even want to be touched."

Chip nodded solemnly,
his hand hovering over
his father's antennae.
"Does he like it when
I hug him?" he whispered.

Karen's smile grew. "His
favorite person to be
touched by is me.
But even with me, he has
his limits. Sometimes, he just
needs his space."

Chip nodded, his gaze
never leaving Plankton's face.
"Does he like it when other
people touch him?" he asked,
his voice barely above a whisper.

Karen's eyes searched
his, knowing this was a
delicate topic. "Well, Chip,
it's different with everyone.
Some days, your dad can tolerate
more than others. But generally,
it's people he's comfortable
with, like me."

"But what about me?" he asked,
his voice quivering slightly.

Karen's smile was sad. "It's
going to take some time, Chip.
You'll have to learn his
signals, his boundaries.."

Plankton's body began to stir,
his antennae twitching more
frequently as he shifted in
his sleep. Chip watched,
his hand hovering over his
dad's head, unsure if he
should risk disturbing him.
Karen's eyes followed the
movement, her gaze filled
with a quiet sadness.

"It's okay, Chip," she
whispered. "He's just
waking up."

Plankton's antennae
twitched again, more
quickly now. His eye
flickered open, his pupil
expanding as he adjusted
to the dim light. He looked
around, his gaze landing
on Karen and Chip.

"Hey, buddy," Karen
whispered, her voice a
balm to his frayed nerves.

Plankton's eye focused
on Chip, who was staring
at him with a mix of
fear and fascination.
He knew that look, had
seen it in others' eyes
before. But coming from
his son, it hit him harder
than he'd ever expected.

He took a deep breath,
his body still feeling like
he'd run a marathon.
"Hi," he said, his
voice hoarse from disuse.

Chip's hand jerked back,
his heart racing. "Dad,"
he whispered, his voice
shaking.

Plankton's antennae
twitched again, this time
in acknowledgment. "Hi,
Chip," he rasped, his voice
sounding neutral.

Chip stared, his
thoughts racing. He had
so many questions, so much
he wanted to say, but the words
got caught in his throat.

Plankton looked at his
son, his antennae drooping.
He could feel the tension in
the air, the unspoken
worries and fears. He took
another deep breath, his body
still feeling the toll.

"How are you feeling, Plankton?"
Karen's voice was a gentle
caress in the silence.

He swallowed, his throat
dry from his ordeal. "Tired,"
he murmured, his antennae
twitching slightly. "But better."

Karen's hand found his
again, her touch a lifeline.
"Do you remember what
happened?" she asked gently.

Plankton's antennae drooped.
"I... I think so," he murmured,
his voice still shaky. "I had a...
a shutdown, with Chip."

Chip's eyes widened, his
heart racing. He'd never
heard his dad talk about
his episodes before. It was
like a door had been opened
to a part of Plankton's life
that had always remained
closed to him.

"It's okay, Dad," he
whispered, his hand reaching
out tentatively. "You can tell me." His
hand barely grazed Plankton's
arm...

Plankton flinched at
the touch, his antennae
twitching erratically. Chip's
heart skipped a beat, his hand
retreating as if burned. Karen
offered a gentle smile, her gaze
meeting Plankton's. "It's okay,
honey," she said softly. "Chip's just
trying to understand."

Plankton took a deep
breath, his antennae
slowly calming. "I know,"
he murmured. "I, I'm s-sorry."

Karen's hand tightened
on his, her eyes never
leaving his face. "Don't
apologize, love," she whispered.
"You didn't do anything wrong."

Plankton nodded, his
throat tight with emotion.
He knew she was right, but
the fear of losing his 
respect was palpable. His antennae
twitched again, the overstimulation
of the day still lingering.

new chip on the shoulders Karen/Chip Plankton II vi

CHIP ON THE SHOULDERS ix
(By NeuroFabulous)


The drive to the dentist was
silent, the tension in the air thick.
Plankton's antennae twitched,
his eye on the passing
scenery outside the window.

"You okay?" Karen asked,
her voice soft. She reached
over, her hand hovering.

Plankton's antennae quivered.
"Just... I'd prefer quiet, alone...
and no touching," he murmured,
his voice tight. "Please, for now."

Karen nodded, her hand
retreating to the steering
wheel. "Okay, Plankton," she
said, her voice gentle. "I'll
give you space.."

The car was a cocoon
of quiet, the hum of the
engine the only sound
to break the silence.
Plankton sat in the
passenger seat, his
body tense, his antennae
twitching slightly as
he took deep, shaky
breaths.
Karen knew her husband
was trying to prepare himself
for the possible onslaught
of the dentist's office.

When they arrived,
Karen parked the car and
turned to him. "Ready?"
she asked, her voice gentle.

Plankton's antennae
twitched, his gaze
darting to the bright
building ahead. "As
ready as I'll ever be,"
he murmured, his voice
barely above a whisper.

Karen nodded, her
expression understanding.
"Let's go, love," she
whispered, reaching for
his hand. But Plankton's
body tensed, his antennae
shooting up. "No touching right now,"
he murmured, his voice tight.

They approached the dental
office with slow, measured steps.
The bright lights and the smell
of antiseptic made Plankton's
antennas quiver, but he pushed
through, his gaze focused on
his wife's calming presence.

Inside, the receptionist's
cheery greeting was almost too
much for Plankton, his antennae
twitching erratically. 
The hum of the office was
a cacophony to his sensitive
ears, but he took deep breaths,
his gaze never leaving the floor.

Karen's voice is low and
soothing. "It's okay, honey,"
she murmured. "We're just
here for a quick check-up."

Plankton nods, his antennae
still quivering. They take
their seats in the waiting
room, the fluorescent lights
buzzing overhead. Each tick
of the clock echoes in the
silence, a stark contrast to
his racing thoughts. He focuses
on his breathing, in and out,
trying to calm his nerves.

Karen notices the way
his antennae twitch in
agitation, her hand hovering
close to his. But he shakes
his head, his gaze fixed
on the floor.

The wait seems eternal,
but finally, the hygienist
calls Plankton's name.
He stands, his antennae
quivering slightly. Karen
follows him into the room,
her eyes scanning the
environment for potential
triggers.

The hygienist, noticing
Plankton's discomfort,
speaks in a soft, even tone.
"Hi, Mr. Plankton," she says,
her voice calm. "I'm Rachel.
We're just here to check
on the teeth we saw
last time. So we're gonna
take another x-ray and compare
them, okay?"

Plankton nods, his antennae
still quivering. Rachel's gentle
touch as she leads him to the chair
is almost too much for him.
Karen can see the effort it takes
for him to stay still, his body
tense as a bowstring.

The sound of the x-ray machine
whirring to life makes Plankton's
antennas twitch.

"It's okay," Karen whispers,
her hand on his shoulder.
"It'll be quick, just hold still."

Plankton nods, his antennae
still quivering. Rachel
places the film in his mouth,
the cold metal sending shivers
down his spine. He closes his eye,
his breaths coming in short bursts.

Karen's hand rests gently
on his shoulder, her thumb
rubbing circles. She whispers,
"We've done this before," her voice
like a balm to his frayed nerves.

Plankton nods, his antennae
twitching slightly. Rachel,
the hygienist, notices his
discomfort and dims the lights
slightly. The sudden change
makes his antennae still, his
breathing evening out.

"Alright, Mr. Plankton," Rachel
says, her voice calm. "This won't
hurt a bit. Just keep still
and we'll be done in no time."

Plankton nods, his antennae
quivering slightly as Rachel
steps away to take the x-ray.
The room goes dark, the
machine's buzz piercing the
silence. Plankton's breath hitches,
his eye squeezed shut.

When Rachel returns, she's careful
to avoid sudden movements. "Alright,
Mr. Plankton, we're all done," she says,
her voice soothing. Plankton's antennae
still as he opens his mouth, allowing Rachel
to remove the film. He swallows hard,
his eye never leaving Karen's.

new chip on the shoulders shockfic ix

CHIP ON THE SHOULDERS ii
(By NeuroFabulous)


"What causes this, Mom?"
Chip asked, his voice quieter
now, more contemplative.

Karen sat beside Plankton,
still stroking his arm. "Sometimes,
sweetie, when people have brains that
work differently, like Daddy does,
they can get overwhelmed." She spoke
slowly, choosing her words with care.
"It's a type of 'neurodisability' he has."

Chip's still confused. "But why
didn't you tell me before?"
his voice barely above a whisper.

Karen's hand stilled on
Plankton's arm as she took
a moment to gather her
thoughts. "Well, Chip, sometimes
parents want to protect their
kids from things they think
might be too much for them to
understand. But now that you're
a little older, it's important
you know about your dad's... 
condition."

Chip looked at her with wide
eyes, processing this new
information. "Is it because
of his inventions? Does he
think too much?"

Karen's gaze remained
on Plankton, her thumb
still making circles on
his skin. "No, honey, it's not
because of his inventions. It's
just his disability. Some
people's brains work differently,
and that's okay."

Chip's eyes darted
back to his father, who
was still as a statue. "But
what does it feel like?"

Karen took a deep
breath. "It's hard to say,
because everyone's experience
is unique. For Daddy,
it might be like being in a
really quiet room where everything
is far away and muffled."

Chip nodded slowly, his
gaze still on Plankton. "So,
it's like he's not here, but he
kind of is?"

Karen nodded, her screen
never leaving her son's.
"In a way, yes. It's like
his brain has gone 
until it's ready to 
come back and get
unstuck."

Chip's screen searched
his mother's screen for
any sign of fear or
sadness, but she was
calm, a rock in the storm
of his confusion. "How
long will he be like this?"

Karen's gaze never
left Plankton's still form.
"It could be a few
minutes or hours. We
just have to wait it out."

Chip nodded, his curiosity
still burning. "Does he
know we're here?"

Karen offered a 
small, sad smile. "I
think he can feel 
us, but he's
not really with us 
right now."

Chip nodded, his 
hands fidgeting with
the hem of his camp
t-shirt. "But how do we
know when he's... not 
stuck anymore?"

Karen looked up at him,
her screen filled with a gentle
wisdom. "You'll know, Chip.
He'll blink, or twitch, or maybe
even say something. It's like
he's in a deep sleep, and we
have to let him wake up on his
own."

Chip sat cross-legged on
the floor next to the bed, his
hands folded in his lap. He had
so many questions, so much
he wanted to share with his
dad. "Does he remember
stuff when he's like this?"
he whispered.

Karen's eyes remained on
Plankton, her voice low and
soothing. "It's complicated,
Chip. Sometimes he does,
sometimes he doesn't. But
it's like his brain is playing
backup right now."

Chip nodded, his
thoughts racing. "But how do we
help him?" he asked, his voice
tinged with urgency.

Karen turned to her son.
"We just have to be patient,
Chip. And keep the room calm."

Chip nodded, his curiosity
now muted by the gravity
of the situation. He watched
his mother closely, studying her
calm demeanor, the way her hand
continued to move in gentle strokes
on Plankton's arm. He wanted
to be like her and help.

"What can I do to make him
feel better?" he asked,
his voice quieter than
his racing thoughts.

Karen's eyes flicked to
his, a gentle smile
playing on her screen. "You're
already doing it, Chip.
Just being here, keeping
the room calm, is helping."

But Chip's mind was still
whirring with unanswered
questions. "But what causes
this?" he pressed.

Karen sighed, her gaze
still focused on Plankton.
"It's a disorder, sweetie. It's a
neurological condition that
makes his brain process things
a bit differently. Sometimes, when
his senses get overwhelmed,
his body does this to protect
him."

Chip's brows furrowed.
"But why didn't he tell..."

"Because," Karen interrupted,
"it's hard for some people to
explain things like this, even to those
they love most. Your dad's been dealing
with this and it's not
always easy to talk about."

Chip nodded, his curiosity
still not fully satisfied. "How will
he feel whenever he wakes up?"

Karen took a deep breath.
"It can vary, Chip. Sometimes
he's groggy, like waking up from
a deep sleep. Other times,
he's just tired, but he'll be okay.
He might need some space, some
quiet, and maybe a little time alone."

Chip nods.
"Mom, ca--"

Plankton's antenna twitches
suddenly. Karen's puts her
hand up to silence Chip.
"Shh," she whispers.

Slowly, Plankton's eye
begins to focus, the vacant
stare shifting as he blinks,
his pupil slowly coming into
focus, as if surfacing from
a deep sleep. He looks up at
Karen, not recalling her
coming in here.
"Wh...what's going on?" he
stammers, his voice rough
from disuse.

Karen's hand tightens
on his arm, her voice a
whisper. "You had a 
shutdown, sweetie."

He figured that. He
remembers Chip
bombarding him before
going dizzy/lightheaded
as Chip kept prodding him,
his son's gaze unwavering.
Plankton's antennae droop
slightly, his body
still sluggish from the
shutdown.

new chip on the shoulders neurodisability ii

CHIP ON THE SHOULDERS v
(By NeuroFabulous)


"You know how sometimes,
Dad gets overwhelmed with
too much going on around him?"
Karen began, her voice gentle.
"It's because his brain
processes things differently.
He's sensitive to sounds, lights,
even touch. That's why he
can seem a bit... reserved, other
than the fact that he's just shy 
about it."

Chip nodded, his mind
still racing with questions.
"But why's he shy about it?"

Karen took a deep breath,
wiping a stray tear from her eye.
"Because, Chip, your dad's
always been self-conscious.
He's aware of how he's
different, and sometimes,
he just needs his space."

Chip nodded slowly,
his eyes never leaving
his mother's face. "Does
he ever get mad about it?"

Karen's gaze was
steady, her voice gentle.
"Sometimes, Chip. But it's
not at you. It's his way of
dealing with the overstimulation."

Chip nodded,
his curiosity morphing
into understanding. "So,
his brain needs a time-out?"

Karen nodded, her voice
soft. "In a way, yes. It's his
body's way of telling him to
slow down and take a break.
Sometimes, when things get too
much for him, he just needs
to be alone, without any
noise or distraction."

Chip looked at his
mother, his eyes brimming
with emotion. "But what
about when he has these...
episodes? Will he always be like
this?"

Karen squeezed his hand,
her gaze never leaving his.
"Sweetie, we can't predict
the future, but we can help him.
He's gotten better at
managing his overstimulation over
the years, but sometimes it still
happens. It's part of who he is."

Chip nodded, his mind
still racing. He looked
towards the door,
his curiosity about 
his father's condition
growing. He wanted 
to check on him,
to make sure he was okay.

With Karen by his side,
they tiptoed into the
dimly lit room. Plankton
was now fast asleep,
his chest rising and falling
evenly beneath the
covers. The room was
silent except for the
steady rhythm of his
breathing.

Chip felt a pang of
sympathy for his father,
his mind still racing with
questions about the condition
he had just learned of.
He studied Plankton's face,
now peaceful in slumber.
His antennae lay flat against
his pillow, no longer
twitching with the stress
of the shutdown.

Karen put a finger to
her lips, reminding Chip to
be quiet as they approached
the bed.

Plankton's chest rose and
fell in a steady rhythm, his
face finally relaxed, free from
the tension that had held him
captive earlier. The room
was dim, the only light
coming from the hallway.

Karen watched her son
studying his father, her heart
swelling with pride. Chip
was growing up so fast, and
now he was facing something
so complex. She knew he
was strong enough to handle
it, though.

They stood there in
silent vigil for a moment,
until Chip finally
whispered, "Can I talk
to him?"

Karen nodded,
her screen never leaving
Plankton's peaceful face.
"Just keep your voice low,"
she advised.

Chip leaned over, his
whisper a gentle breeze.
"Dad, I'm here," he murmured.
Plankton's antennae twitched
slightly, but he remained
asleep.

Karen's hand rested
on Chip's shoulder,
guiding him to sit in a chair
beside the bed.

Chip's eyes remained
fixed on his father,
his mind racing with questions
and fears. Yet, there was
also a newfound respect
for Plankton's silent battles.
He watched his chest rise
and fall, the steady beat
of his heart a testament
to his resilience.

"What do we do now?"
Chip asked, his voice
barely above a whisper.

Karen's eyes never
left Plankton's sleeping form.
"We give him time," she said,
her voice soothing. "And when
he wakes from his nap, we'll
be here."

new chip on the shoulders Karen/Chip Plankton II v

CHIP ON THE SHOULDERS vii
(By NeuroFabulous)


"Chip," he began, his voice
cracking. "I have something
important to tell you."

Chip leaned forward,
his heart racing. "What is it,
Dad?"

Plankton's antennae
twitched again, his eyes
meeting his son's with a
meld of love and apprehension.
"I'm autistic," he said, his
voice barely above a whisper.

Chip thought back to what his mom
had told him about his father's
unique way of being born, and
how it had affected his brain.

He remembered the awe in
his mother's voice as she recounted
the story of Plankton's
birth, the way she'd
spoken with a mix of wonder
and sorrow. It was a lot to take in,
but it made him feel closer to
his father somehow.

"Dad?" Chip's voice
was tentative, his hand
still hovering over
his father's arm. "What's a...
coffin birth?"

Plankton's antennae
stilled, his eye flicking
to Karen's. She gave a
tiny nod, understanding
the need for honesty.

"It's a rare event, Chip,"
Plankton began, his voice
steadier now. "It's when a
baby is born after their
mother has... passed away."

Chip's eyes searched his
father's, trying to make
sense of the words. "But how?"

Plankton took a deep
breath, his antennae
flattening slightly. "The
doctors had to be... quick,"
he said, his voice filled
with awe. "They knew I was
still alive, and they did
everything they could to get me
out."

Chip's eyes grew even
wider, his imagination
running wild. "But Dad,
how does that even work?"
he whispered, his voice filled
with wonder and horror.

Plankton took a deep
breath, his antennae
twitching slightly. "It's... it's a
difficult thing to explain,
Chip," he said, his voice
strained. "But basically,
when a mom's body isn't
alive anymore, but the baby's
heart is still beating, the
doctors do an emergency
procedure to get the baby out."

Chip's eyes were like
saucers, his mind racing.
"But how is that possible?"
he whispered, his voice
barely audible.

Plankton sighed, his
antennas drooping slightly.
"The doctors try to induce labor
in mum's body after she...
after she's gone," he said,
his voice strained with the
difficulty of the memory.
"It was a delicate process,
and not always successful. In
my birth, there was a moment
where my brain didn't get enough
oxygen," he murmured. "When I
was still inside mum."

Chip's unsure
how to react. "And
how'd it give you autism?"

Plankton's antennae
twitched again, his gaze
dropping to the bed. "Well,
it's something that
can happen when a baby's brain
doesn't get enough oxygen
during birth, Chip," he said,
his voice quiet. "It's like
a... hypoxic-ischemic event.
It can lead to... complications.
For me, it was autism."

Chip nodded, his hand
still hovering over his
father's arm. "But how did
your mum... die?" he asked, his
voice barely above a whisper.

Plankton's antennae
drooped further, his gaze
going distant. "It was an
accident," he murmured. "Her
heart... it just stopped.
Bled out, the doctors said."

Chip's hand hovered
over his dad's arm,
his mind racing with the
implications. "But why?"

Plankton took a moment,
his antennae flicking slightly.
"It's complicated, Chip.
My mum... she had a rarity.
Her heart was
weak, and it couldn't handle
the stress. It went undiagnosed
back then."

Chip's hand hovered
still, his heart breaking
for his dad. "But Dad,
why didn't anyone know?"

Plankton's antennae
twitched, his gaze going
to the floor. "They did,
eventually," he murmured.
"But by then, it was too late.
My mum was gone."

Chip's eyes filled with
sympathy, his hand
resting on the bed. "I'm
sorry, Dad," he whispered.

Plankton's antennae twitched
slightly, his gaze meeting
his son's. "It's okay, Chip.
It's not something you
could've known. I obviously
didn't know her to well, but
thank you."

Karen was glad to see
them connecting. "So
Chip, you can ask us
questions if you want."

Chip looked from Karen
to Plankton, his curiosity
piqued. "Dad, is there
anything you really hate
that makes you have these...
shutdowns?"

Plankton's antennae twitched
nervously, his eye darting
between them. "Well, Chip,
it's not always just one thing. It's
mostly like... a buildup.
Loud noises, too many people,
bright lights," he listed off.
"They can all make it
harder for me to focus, to
filter out the extra stuff
my brain's taking in."

Chip nodded, his eyes
never leaving his dad's face.
"What about touch?" he asked,
his voice tentative. "Does it
bother you?"

Plankton's antennae
twitched, his gaze flicking to
Karen's comforting hand.
"It depends," he said slowly.
"Some days, I crave it. Other
days, it's too much."

Chip nodded, his mind
racing. "What about hugs?"
he asked, his voice hopeful.
"Does it help you feel better?"

Plankton's antennae
quivered, his eye searching
his son's face. "Sometimes,"
he said, his voice tight. "But
not always."

Chip nodded, his
hand still hovering. 
"Can I... ca--"

Plankton's antennae shot
up, his eye widening. "No!"
The suddenness
of his reaction made
Chip's hand jerk 
back, his eyes
wide with shock.

"I'm sorry, buddy,"
Plankton said, his voice
softening as he saw the
fear in his son's eyes.
"It's just that, sometimes,
hugs are too much. I need...
space, like I told you. But only
if I know they're coming, and
only from people I trust. I'm
still recovering right now."

Chip's hand hovered in the
air, unsure of what to do.
"Can I... I don't know, maybe
just pat you on the shoulder?"
he asked, his voice hopeful. But
Plankton shook his head.

"No, Chip," he murmured. "I do
not want my shoulders to be
patted. That's too much."

Chip nodded, his gaze
on Plankton's. "How about a
high five?" he asked, his
hand still hovering.

Plankton's antennae
twitched slightly, his eye
narrowing as he considered
his son's question. "Maybe,"
he murmured. "But only if
you're gentle."

Chip nodded eagerly, his hand
slowly descending towards
his dad's hand. He hovered
for a moment, his heart racing.
Then, with all the gentleness
he could muster, he tapped his
father's hand with his fingertips.

Plankton's antennae
twitched slightly, but
his eye remained focused
on Chip's. "Good job,"
he murmured, his voice
a quiet praise. "That was...
perfect."

new chip on the shoulders childbirthcore vii

CHIP ON THE SHOULDERS viii
(By NeuroFabulous)


Karen's gaze searched
both of their faces,
seeing the tentative
connection forming.
"Why don't we let Daddy
rest now?" she suggested
softly, her eyes on Chip. "It's
getting to be bedtime. You
head to bed, Chip." she said
gently.

Chip nodded, his hand
still hovering over Plankton's.
He knew his father needed
his space, especially after
such an ordeal. "Goodnight,
Dad," he whispered, his voice
filled with a mix of
fear and love.

Plankton's antennae
twitched slightly, his eye
still focused on Chip.
"Goodnight, buddy,"
he murmured, his voice
exhausted. "I-I-I-I… 
lo-ove y-you."

The words hung in the
air, a declaration of
his feelings despite
his condition. Chip felt
his heart swell with
a mix of emotion, his hand
falling to his side.
"I love you too, Dad,"
he whispered back, his voice
trembling slightly.

The next morning, Karen
hears a ding vibrate on
her phone, waking her.

She sits up and looks
over at Plankton, who's
still sleeping. She smiles 
softly at the sight of her
snoring husband, his antennae
twitching slightly with each
breath.

Gently, she slides out of
bed, careful not to disturb
his rest. She grabs her
phone, checking the text.

Her heart skips a beat
at the sight of the
message: "Plankton: Dental
Appointment to discuss his
latest x-ray. We open in 1
hour." It was from Plankton's
dental office.

Karen sighed, setting
her phone on the nightstand.
"Plankton, love," she whispered,
carefully shaking his
shoulder. "Wake up, we have
a dental appointment."

Plankton's antennae twitched
slightly, his eye opening.
He took a moment to
process the information, his
brain slowly coming online.
"Dentist?" he murmured, his voice
still thick with sleep.

Karen nodded, her voice
steady. "Yes, honey. We need
to talk to the dentist about
your latest x-ray."

Plankton's antennae
twitched.

Karen knew that
dental appointments were a
particularly tough challenge
for Plankton due to his
sensory sensitivities.

With a sigh, Plankton
nodded, his antennae drooping.

Karen could feel the tension
in the room, so she took
Plankton's hand, giving it
a gentle squeeze. "I'll call
Sandy" she said, her voice
calm. "She'll look after Chip."

Plankton nodded, his
antennas still twitching
nervously. "Thank you,"
he murmured, his voice
barely audible.

Karen quickly dials
Sandy's phone number.

The phone rings,
a distant melody in
the quiet room.
Plankton's antennae
twitched with every ring,
his nervousness palpable.

"Sandy, it's Karen,"
Karen's voice was a
comforting balm over
the line. "Could you
possibly watch Chip today?
We've got a dental appointment
for Plankton, and it's...
sudden, I know."

Sandy's voice came through
the speaker, warm and
understanding. "Of course, Karen.
Right now? I'll be heading on over!"

Karen breathed a sigh of
relief. "Thank you so much,
Sandy," she whispered, then
hanging up. She went to
Chip's room.

The light from the hallway
spilled into his room, casting
long shadows across the
floor. Chip stirred in his bed,
his eyes blinking open sleepily.
"Huh?" he mumbled.

Karen's smile was gentle
as she leaned over him.
"Hey, buddy," she whispered.
"Sandy's here to watch you
while I take Daddy to a
dentist appointment."

Chip's eyes widened,
his mind still foggy with sleep.
"Dentist?" he repeated, sitting up.

"Don't worry, Chip," Karen
assured him, her voice soft.
"You can stay here with
Sandy. She'll take good care
of you."

The sound of the doorbell
rang through the house, a
sharp, piercing noise that
made Plankton's antennae
twitch. Karen's eyes darted to
his face, but his expression
remained stoic. She knew
his hearing was sensitive,
but she didn't have time to
fuss over it now.

"It's just Sandy," she assured
Plankton with a smile, patting
his hand before heading
to the door. "It'll be okay,
honey."

The door opened, and
Sandy's cheerful face 
appeared. "Howdy,
Karen!" she chirped, her eyes
scanning the room.

"Hi, Sandy! I don't know how
long we'll be gone but I can
keep you updated. It's to
review an x-ray from Plankton's
last x-ray they said they'd keep
an eye on, and they notified us
to come in today."

Sandy nodded, her smile
warm and reassuring.
"Don't worry, I've got this.
I'll keep Chip busy and
entertained," she promised.
"But he can also sleep in.."

Karen's eyes searched
Plankton's, his antennae
twitching slightly.
"It's okay, love," she murmured,
squeezing his hand. "We'll be
going now."

Plankton nodded, his antennae
drooping. Karen knew he was scared,
but she also knew he'd get through it.
"Come on," she whispered, her voice
soothing. "Let's go to the car."

new chip on the shoulders shockfic viii

CHIP ON THE SHOULDERS xi
(By NeuroFabulous)


Karen watched, her hand tightly
gripping his, her breath shallow,
as the surgeon worked with a
precision that could only come from
years of practice.

Plankton remained still under
the anesthesia, his antennae
completely at ease. Rachel, the
hygienist, hovered nearby, her eyes
always on Plankton, ready to
assist if needed.

The surgery felt like
eternity, but it was over
sooner than she had feared.
Plankton's antennae remained
still, his breathing deep
and even. Dr. McSquinty
finished the last stitch, his
tentacles moving with a
sureness that was almost
hypnotic. "We're all done,"
he said, his voice a gentle
rumble.

Dr. McSquinty's tentacles moved
quickly and deftly, his focus
on the task at hand. Karen watched
as the surgeon's tentacles gently
placed the gauze into Plankton's
mouth.

The room was silent except
for the steady beep of the
heart rate monitor and the
slight snores from Plankton's
relaxed form. Rachel, the
hygienist, checked the gauze's
placement, her eyes meeting
Karen's. She nodded, her expression
serene. Karen takes a picture and
sends it to Sandy.

"He's doing well," Rachel
whispered, her eyes on the
monitor. "His vitals are all
normal." Karen nods, her
throat tight. "Thank you,"
she murmurs.
Plankton's antennae lay still,
his chest rising and falling
evenly. The anesthesia had
worked its magic, his mind
now free from the storm of
sensory input that had once
threatened to consume him.

Karen watched as Dr. McSquinty
removes the Iv,
but Plankton was oblivious,
his sleep deep and peaceful.

The anesthesia had done its
job, and Rachel, the hygienist,
remained there to wake him.

"Plankton, Plankton," Rachel's voice
was a lullaby, her hand light on
his shoulder. His antennae
twitched slightly, his eye
flickering open. "You're all
done, sweetheart," she murmured.

Plankton blinked, his gaze
unfocused. The room was dim,
his mouth feeling peculiar.
"Whath's happen'd?" he mumbled,
his voice slurred. Karen's screen
swam into view, her smile a beacon
in the fog of confusion.

"You had your wisdom teeth out,"
she said gently, her hand
still in his. "You're okay, Plankton."
Her voice was a balm to his
fuzzy mind. His antennae twitched
slightly, trying to process the
information.

Plankton's gaze flickered around
the room, the shapes and sounds
familiar yet foreign. He felt groggy,
his body weighted down by
the anesthesia. Rachel smiles. "You'll
be tired and a little numb for today Mr.
Plankton, but you can nap once Karen
takes you home!"

Karen's eyes searched his,
their depths filled with love and
concern. "How do you feel?" she
asked, her voice low and gentle.

Plankton's antennae twitched
slightly, his gaze unfocused.
"Tiwed," he murmured, his voice
slurred by the aftereffects of
the anesthesia. "But... it's done?"

Karen nodded, her smile gentle.
"Yes, it's done," she said, her voice
a soothing lilt. "You're so brave."

Plankton's antennae quivered
slightly as he tried to sit up,
his body protesting the sudden
movement. Karen's hand
was a steady anchor, helping
to ground him in reality. The
world spun for a moment, but
soon the fog began to clear.

"Easy," she murmured, her voice
a lifeline in the haze. "Take your
time, Plankton." Her eyes searched
his, looking for signs of distress.
His antennae drooped slightly,
his gaze drifting to the ceiling
above. The lights were dimmer now,
the sounds of the office
muffled.

With Rachel's help, they
managed to get Plankton to his
feet, his legs wobbly. Karen
wrapped an arm around his waist,
supporting him as they made their
way out.

"We'll take it slow," she
murmured, her voice gentle. His
antennas twitched in sleepy
agreement, his eye half-lidded.
The world felt thick and slow,
each step an effort. The pain in his
mouth was distant, muffled by
the fog of anesthesia.
Plankton leaned into Karen,
his antennae drooping with
grogginess. The gentle pressure
of her arm around his waist
was the only thing keeping him upright.

They moved through the office,
his sluggish steps echoing in the
silence. Rachel held the door
open for them, her smile warm.
"Take care of him, he'll be sleepy," 
she said, her voice
soft. Karen nodded, her gaze
never leaving Plankton's face.

The cool air outside was a
sharp contrast to the sterile
environment of the dental
office. Plankton's antennae
twitched slightly as he took
in the world around him,
his senses still dulled by
the lingering anesthesia.

Karen's arm remained
steadfast around his waist,
guiding him through the parking
lot. The sound of gravel crunching
underfoot was oddly soothing,
his mind still fuzzy from the
remaining effects of the surgery.

The car was a familiar
sanctuary, and Plankton
collapsed into the passenger seat
with a sigh, his antennae drooping.
Karen buckled him in with gentle
care, her eyes searching his
for any signs of pain or discomfort.

"Alright, love," she murmured,
her voice a soothing balm. "We're going
to get you home, and you can
sleep it off." Her hand rested
on his shoulder, her eyes on
his sleepy gaze.

But Plankton's eye kept
drooping, his antennae quivering
with the effort to stay conscious.
"Karen," he slurred, his voice
barely audible. "I'm... I'm tiwed."

"I know, sweetie," she said, her
voice soothing. "You just had surgery.
You need to rest. Now let's get home!"

But Plankton's body had other
ideas. His eyelid fluttered
closed, his antennae barely twitching.
Karen chuckled softly, her
heart swelling with affection.
"You can sleep in the car,"
she assured him. "But try to stay
awake for a little while longer."

Plankton's antennae shot up
with a valiant effort to comply,
his eye opening wide for a moment.
But the warmth of the car and the
gentle hum of the engine were
too much for him to resist.
Within seconds, his head
was lolling to the side,
his antennae drooping in defeat.

"Plankton," Karen whispered, her
voice a gentle prod. His antennae
twitched, his eye fluttering open.
"Stay with me, okay?" Her smile
was tired but filled with love.

He nodded, his antennae drooping
again. "M'trying," he mumbled, his
voice thick with sleep. Karen
chuckled softly, starting the
car. The engine's hum was
lulling, the vibrations soothing
to his overwhelmed senses.

As the car pulled out of the
parking lot, Plankton's antennae
twitched, trying to keep
alert. But the warmth of the
car and the gentle sway of the
seat were too much. His eye
closed again, his head lolling
back against the headrest.

Karen's voice was a steady
companion, her words a gentle
reminder of reality. "Stay
with me, Plankton," she said,
her tone filled with love.

Plankton's antennae twitched,
his eye sliding open with
difficulty. "M'trying," he murmured,
his voice thick with sleep.

The car's gentle rocking
lulled him back into
slumber, his antennae drooping
against the headrest. Karen's
voice was a soft melody, her
words a gentle nudge to stay
conscious. "Wake up, Plankton,"
she whispered. "We're going
home, and you can sleep there."

With each word, his antennae
wobbled in protest, his eye
fighting to stay open. "Mm," he
mumbled, his voice a sleepy
whisper. "Home." He was so tired,
his body begging for rest.

Karen's voice was a gentle
reminder of the world outside
his sleep-filled haze. "We're
almost there, Plankton," she
soothed, her eyes never leaving
the road. "Just stay with me a
little longer."

But the siren call of sleep
was too strong. His antennae
twitched one last time before
going still, his breathing
evening out as he gave in to the
warm embrace of unconsciousness.

Karen watched him with
a mix of concern and affection,
his peaceful expression a stark
contrast to the fear from before.
"Looks like you've had enough,"
she whispered to herself,
a hint of a smile playing on
her screen. She drove with care,
his head leaning against the
window, the soft snores echoing
in the quiet car.

The scenery outside the window
was a blur, the world moving
too fast for his sleep-laden
brain to process. Each bump in
the road jolted him slightly,
his antennae twitching in protest.
"Wake up, Plankton," Karen said,
keeping her voice low and calm.
He stirred, his antennae
perking up slightly. "We're almost
there."

But the lure of sleep was
powerful, pulling him back into
its embrace. His antennae
drooped, his breaths growing
even deeper. "Mmph," he mumbled,
his voice muffled by the gauze
still in his mouth.

"Just a few more minutes,
Plankton," Karen coaxed, her voice
soft. The car's gentle motion
was hypnotic, each turn and
bump in the road a siren's
song to his weary mind. "You can
sleep when we get home."

Plankton's antennae
twitched, his eye fluttering
open. He nodded slightly,
his head lolling to the side.
"M'trying," he murmured, his
voice barely audible. The anesthesia
still had a firm grip on
his consciousness, his body
craving the oblivion of sleep.

Karen's hand remained
steady on his shoulder,
her voice a gentle coaxing.
"Look, Plankton," she said,
her tone soft. "We're almost
home. Stay with me."

The world outside was a
blur of colors and shapes,
each passing tree and building
just another obstacle in
his battle against the
dragging weight of sleep.
Plankton's antennae quivered
slightly, his eye trying to focus.
"Mmhmm," he mumbled, his
voice thick with grogginess.

Karen's gentle voice was
his tether to reality, her
soothing words a lullaby
guiding him through the
hazy fog of anesthesia. "You're
doing so well, Plankton,"
she murmured, her grip on
his shoulder firm yet comforting.
"Almost there, buddy."

Plankton's antennae
twitched in response, his
eye opening briefly to meet
hers. He nodded, the effort
to stay awake etched on his
face. The world outside the
car was a blur of greens and
blues, the sun casting a warm
glow over everything. His
body felt heavy, each breath
a struggle against the
weight of his eyelid.

"Look, Plankton," Karen said,
her voice a whisper in the quiet
car. "We're home."

new chip on the shoulders tripcore xi

CHIP ON THE SHOULDERS xiv
(By NeuroFabulous)


Sandy and Chip watch as
she tucks the blanket around
his form, her movements
careful not to disturb his
slumber. "Let him sleep,"
she murmurs, her voice a
caress. "He'll wake when
his body's ready."

The two of them nod,
understanding in their
silent gazes. They sit
quietly, the only sound
the ticking of the clock
and Plankton's deep snores.

Sandy glances at Karen,
her eyes filled with
concern. "Is he okay?"
she asks in a hushed
whisper. Karen nods, her
expression calm. "It's
normal after surgery.
He'll be fine."

Chip's gaze is glued to
his father, his curiosity
piqued by the unfamiliar
sight. "What happens
now?" he asks, his voice
small in the quiet room.

Karen sits back, her
hands folded in her lap.
"Now, we wait," she murmurs.
"Let him rest."

Sandy nods, her eyes
flickering to the clock
on the wall. "It's late,"
she says, her voice low.
"Should I stay?"

"You can sleep in my bed
Sandy," Karen says.

Sandy nods, her eyes
on Plankton. "Thank you,"
she murmurs, her voice barely
above a whisper. "I don't want
to leave you alone."

Karen smiles, her gaze
on Plankton's peaceful
face. "You won't," she says.
"We're all here."

Sandy nods, a soft
smile gracing her features.
"Thank you," she says, her voice
a gentle echo in the
silent room. She takes the
offered space, her eyes never
leaving her friend's sleeping
form.

Karen watches Plankton
sleep, his antennae twitching
slightly with each
snore. Her thoughts are a
whirlwind of emotion, a mix
of worry and love. She
knows the road ahead
won't be easy, but she's
determined to navigate it
with patience and care.

The next morning, the
sun peeks through the
curtains, casting a soft
glow on the living room.
Plankton stirs, his antennae
twitching as the world
intrudes on his slumber.
The room is quiet, the
remnants of the previous
day's events a fading
memory. He opens his eye to
find Karen asleep in the
chair beside him.
Her hand is curled around
his, a silent promise of
support. Plankton's mouth
feels swollen, the tender
reminder of the surgery
yesterday.

He sits up slowly, his
body protesting with a
soft groan.
The house is still, the
only sounds the distant
chirps of early morning
scallops. Chip is probably
still asleep, Sandy in the
other room.

Plankton's antennae quiver as
the pain of the surgery starts
to make itself known, a dull
throb that echoes through his
body. He reaches up to
his mouth with tentative
fingers, the swollen flesh
meeting his touch with a
sharp sting. He winces, his
body tensing in response.

Karen's eyes open. "You're ok,"
she whispers, her voice
a gentle balm. She takes his
hand, guiding it away from
his face. "Le..."

But Plankton's antennae
are already twitching with
discomfort, his eye wide
with pain. "M'hurt," he
mumbles, his voice a hoarse
whisper. Karen's expression
softens, her eyes filled
with sympathy.

"I know," she says, her voice
soothing. "It's from the
surgery." Plankton nods, his
body stiff with discomfort.

Karen stands, her movements
fluid. She fetches a cold
compress from the kitchen,
the fridge's hum a gentle
reminder of the world outside
their quiet bubble. "Here,"
she murmurs, her touch
featherlight as she places
the compress gently against
his cheek. The coldness
soothes the ache, his antennae
quivering with relief.

Plankton's eye closes, his
body sagging into the couch
cushions. The pain is a
dull throb, a constant
reminder of his surgery.
Karen sits beside him, her
hand resting lightly on his,
her presence a comforting
weight. "What else can I
do?" she whispers, her eyes
filled with concern.

He mumbles something incoherent,
his antennae twitching. Karen
frowns, her brow furrowed. "What
was that, Plankton?"

He opens his eye slightly,
his voice thick with pain. "M'hurt,"
he whispers. Karen's heart clenches.
"Your teeth?" she asks, her
voice a soft concern.

Plankton nods, his antennae
drooping. "Mmh," he confirms,
his hand moving to his swollen
cheek. The coldness of the
compress is a small mercy,
but the throb persists.

Karen's gaze is filled with
determination as she looks
for more ways to ease his discomfort.

She remembers the pain
medication from the doctor,
quickly retrieving it from the
kitchen counter. The bottle
rattles slightly in her hand,
each pill a potential lifeline.

Plankton's eye widens
slightly at the sound, his
antennas twitching with
anticipation. She opens the
bottle with a soft click,
the smell of mint wafting
upwards. "Take one," she
instructs, her voice a gentle
guideline through the fog of
his pain.

He nods, his hand
shaking as he takes the pill.
The water is cold on his
swollen tongue, the liquid a
sweet reprieve. Karen
watches as he swallows, her
face etched with care. "There
you go," she whispers, her
hand never leaving his.

The pain medication takes
effect slowly, the throb
easing into a dull ache.
Plankton's antennae twitch
slightly, his breathing
evening out. "Thank you,"
he murmurs, his voice a
hoarse whisper. Karen's smile
is a soft reassurance.

He sinks back into the
couch cushions, his antennae
drooping with relief.
The cold compress is a
steady presence, her hand
in his a warm reassurance.
"You're welcome," she
whispers, as Chip follows
his mom's friend Sandy
to them.

Sandy's eyes are filled
with curiosity and a hint
of concern. "How's he
doing?" she asks, her voice
a soft question in the early
morning silence.

Karen looks over back at
Plankton. "He's in a bit of
pain," she says, her voice
a gentle sigh. "But the
medication should kick in
soon."

Sandy nods, her eyes
filled with understanding.
"I can stay and help,"
she offers. "If you need
anything, just let me know."

Plankton's antennae twitch
slightly, his eye opening to
meet her gaze. "Mmph,"
he mumbles, his voice
still slurred.

Karen nods, her smile
gentle. "You're doing
great," she whispers.

Chip sees his dad's
swollen cheeks and
his antennae drooping.
"Does it hurt a lot, Dad?"
he asks, his voice
filled with a newfound
compassion for the man
he's often seen as just
his quirky father.

Plankton's antennae twitch
slightly, his eye blinking
open. "Mmh," he mumbles,
his voice a hoarse echo of
his pain. "A little."

Karen's smile is filled
with empathy as she squeezes
his hand. "It's okay, I'm
here," she whispers. She
knows the pain of his
autism, the way it can
magnify the smallest of
discomforts into a symphony
of sensory overload. She
gently places the compress
back on his cheek, her eyes
never leaving his face.

new chip on the shoulders sleepovercore xiv

CHIP ON THE SHOULDERS xv
(By NeuroFabulous)


Plankton's antennae
twitch. "M'sorry,"
he murmurs, his voice a
weak apology for his
condition.

Karen's hand is a
steady presence, her
grip reassuring. "You
have nothing to
apologize for," she says,
her voice a soft
whisper of comfort.

Chip watches his
father, his curiosity
piqued.

"Hey, Dad," he says,
his voice a gentle reminder
of the care and understanding
that now exists between them.
Chip sits on the edge of the
couch, his hand reaching to
touch Plankton's shoulder...

Plankton's antennae shoot
up, his eye snapping open
in alarm.

His hand
shoots out, 
batting Chip's arm
away.

Chip recoils, his eyes
wide with surprise. "It's okay,
Dad," he says quickly, his voice
low. "I wa-"

But Plankton's antennae are
quivering with agitation, his
body tense. "Don't," he snaps,
his voice sharp. Karen's eyes
dart to her son, her expression
a silent apology. She knows Plankton's
autism makes him hypersensitive
to touch, especially when in pain.

Chip's hand hover in mid-air,
his eyes wide. "Why'd yo-"

Plankton's voice is a harsh
interruption, his antennae
twitching erratically. "I said
don't," he repeats, his voice a
firm command. Chip's hand
drops to his side, his
expression one of confusion
and hurt. "It's okay," Karen says
quickly, her voice a gentle
reminder. "He's just sensitive."

Sandy nods, her eyes on
Plankton's face. "It's okay,
Chip," she says softly. "Let's
just give him some space."
Chip nods, his gaze on his
father's tense form.

Karen's eyes are filled with
compassion as she watches
Plankton, his antennae still
twitching with agitation.
"It's all right," she whispers,
her voice a gentle balm.
"Your body's just healing."

The silence stretches
between them, a soft
acknowledgment of his pain.
The compress feels cold
against his cheek, the
medication a distant
promise. His antennae
droop slightly, his body
beginning to relax.

Karen watches him closely,
her eyes a map of his comfort.
"It's okay, Plankton," she
whispers. "You just
need to rest." His antennae
twitch in response, his breathing
evening out.

The medication starts to
kick in, the pain a distant
memory. Plankton's antennae
droop with the weight of
his exhaustion. Karen's hand
remains in his, a silent promise
of support. She knows that
his autism means that even
the smallest touch can be too
much, yet she also knows the
comfort of familiarity.

Chip's eyes are 
wide, taking in 
the scene before 
him. He wants
to be near his dad!

Karen's eyes
are on them both, her heart
a silent prayer. She knows
how much Chip wants to
comfort Plankton, to bridge
the gap that autism often
forces between them.

Chip tries to keep 
his moves calm, but
his heart races with
concern despite his
efforts to hold back.
He also sees
the way Karen's hand
rests on Plankton's, a silent
offer of comfort, and
wonders if he could do
the same..

So Chip takes a deep
breath, his finger tentative
as it reaches out to
his father's shoulder,
his touch immediate...

Plankton's body twitches
right at Chip's contact,
his eye snapping open. "Mmph," he
mumbles, his antennae shooting
up in a defensive stance.

Chip's hand freezes, his eyes
filled with uncertainty.
"It's okay, Da-"

Yet Plankton's antennae
droop again, his eye
falling closed. "Mmh,"
he mumbles. But Chip 
takes this as
a green light.

He leans in closer, his
finger brushing Plankton's
cheek...

"Don't touch me!" Plankton's
voice is a whipcrack, his antennae
twitching angrily. His hand
shoots up to swat Chip's touch
away. "M'fine!" he snaps, his
body trembling with pain and
frustration.

Karen's heart aches, caught
between her son's well-meaning
concern and Plankton's
desperate need for space. "Chip,"
she says gently, her voice a
calming force. "Remember what 
we talked about.."

Yet Chip wants to ask
questions about his 
dad's dental surgery.

Plankton's antennae
quiver, his eye opening
to slits. "What?" he snaps,
his voice a sharp edge.

Chip's eyes are wide
with curiosity. "What
was it like?" he asks, his voice
eager. "The surgery, I mean."

Karen's smile is a soft
explanation. "It was like a
long nap," she says, her eyes
on Plankton. "They gave him
medicine to make him sleepy,
so he wouldn't feel anything."

Chip's eyes light up with
interest. "What happened
to make him asleep?" he
asks, his voice filled with
eagerness to understand.

Karen's smile is a gentle
explanation. "They used
anesthesia," she says, her voice
calm and steady. "It's like a
special kind of sleep that
lets doctors work without you
feeling anything."

Chip's eyes widen, his mind
racing with questions. "But
how did they know he was
asleep?" he asks, his voice a
whisper of wonder.

Karen's smile is filled with
pride. "They used monitors,
sweetie," she explains. "They
keep track of his heartbeat
and breathing, so they know
he's okay."

Chip's gaze is riveted
on Plankton's swollen cheeks.
"But his mouth?" he presses.
"What did they do?"

Plankton's antennae twitch
slightly, his discomfort
visible. Karen's voice is a
soft guide. "They took
out his wisdom teeth," she
says. "They were gonna cause
problems."

Chip's curiosity is a
whirlwind of questions.
"How do they know when
you're asleep?" he asks,
his voice filled with awe.

Karen's smile is a gentle
teaching tool. "They watch
his brain waves," she says,
her words a soft
explanation. "They use
a machine that shows them
how much he's sleeping."

Chip nods, his eyes
absorbing the information.
"And how'd dad woke up?"

Karen's eyes are filled
with patience. "They stopped
the medicine," she says.
"And when he was ready,
his body woke up."

Chip's mind is a storm
of curiosity. "But what
was it like?" he asks again,
his voice a persistent
wonder. "Being asleep like that?"

Karen's eyes hold a hint of
amusement. "It's like
a very deep sleep," she says.
"You don't dream, you don't feel,
you just rest."

Chip's curiosity is a
tiny flame, flickering
brightly in the quiet room.
"But what about when he
woke up?" he presses, his voice
filled with a child's need
to understand the world.

Karen's smile is a gentle
nod. "When you wake up from
surgery, it's a little
different," she explains. "The
body's still sleepy, and his
mouth was numb."

Chip's eyes are wide with
understanding. "Oh," he says,
his voice a soft wonder.

new chip on the shoulders recoverypunk xv

CHIP ON THE SHOULDERS x
(By NeuroFabulous)


Rachel's gaze flicks to the x-rays
now in her hand, her eyes widening
slightly. "Everything looks... mostly good,"
she says, her voice measured. "But we've
noticed something with your wisdom teeth."

Plankton's antennae spike
in alarm. "What is it?" he
asks, his voice tight. Karen's hand
squeezes his shoulder, her eyes
on Rachel's face.

Rachel's eyes scan the
x-ray, her brow furrowed. "It appears
your wisdom teeth are impacted,
Mr. Plankton," she says, her voice
soft. "They'll push against
your other teeth as we feared."

Karen's eyes dart to her
husband's, watching the
panic flicker across his face.
"What does that mean?" she
asks, her voice tight. Rachel
swallows, her expression
sympathetic.

"It means, Mrs. Plankton,
that your husband will
need to see our oral surgeon
to have them removed,"
she says gently. "They can't
wait much longer. The surgeon
is actually open right now, if...
Plankton?" Rachel notices his
sudden stillness.

Plankton's antennae quivered,
his gaze unfocused. "What's
the matter?" Rachel asks, her voice
filled with concern. Karen
quickly explains the situation. "He's
autistic," she murmurs. "He can get
overwhelmed easily."

Rachel nodded, her expression
understanding. "Ah," she said,
her tone gentle. "Well, let's go
slowly. We know that the
wisdom teeth are causing
problems, and they need to come
out. But we can work with you
to make it as comfortable as
possible. You both follow me to 
the surgery."

They follow Rachel down
a hallway, the walls a soothing
blue, the floor a muted grey.
Plankton's antennae twitch with
each step, his eye darting
from side to side. Karen squeezes
his hand, her eyes never leaving
his face.

The surgery room loomed ahead,
its door open just a crack,
a glimpse of gleaming instruments
and the smell of antiseptic
wafting out. Rachel notices
Plankton's anxiety and stops,
turning to face them.

"Let's go over what will happen
during the surgery," Rachel says,
her voice measured and calm.
"First, let's go in the room and
meet our surgeon."

Plankton's antennae quiver,
his eye flicking to Karen's hand
still holding his. She nods,
her smile encouraging. "We can
do this," she whispers.

They enter the surgery room,
the coldness of the air making
his antennae stand on end.
The surgeon, a squid named
Dr. McSquinty, greets them
with a friendly smile. His tentacles
wave in a non-threatening way.

"Hi, I'm Dr. McSquinty,"
he says, his voice a soothing
baritone. "We're going to
make sure this is as easy
and painless as possible for
you. I'll take it from here, Rachel."
Rachel nods, her eyes
lingering on Plankton's
anxious form before
exiting the room.

The surgeon's tentacles
move in a gentle, calming
wave. "Now, I know this
can be a bit overwhelming,
Mr. Plankton," he says, his
eyes kind. "But I promise we'll
explain everything before we do it."

Plankton's antennae quiver,
his gaze fixed on Dr. McSquinty.
Karen squeezes his hand,
her voice soft. "It's okay,
Plankton," she murmurs. "He's
autistic, and sensitive, Doc..."

Dr. McSquinty nods, his
tentacles waving gently.
"I've had patients with
special needs before,"
he says, his tone calm.
"We'll take it slow, and I'll
make sure to explain everything
step by step."

Both their eyes searched
Plankton's face, his antennae
still quivering.

"Okay, Plankton," Dr. McSquinty
began, his voice calm and
measured. "We're going to
talk about taking out your
wisdom teeth."

Plankton's antennae
twitched, his gaze fixed
on the surgeon's tentacles.
Karen could see the fear
in his eye.

Dr. McSquinty continued,
his tentacles moving in
a slow, methodical pattern.
"We'll use a local anesthetic
to numb the area. You won't
feel a thing, I promise." He
grabs a syringe, which ends
up being to much for Plankton.

Plankton's antennae shot up,
his body stiffening. Karen's
hand tightens around his.
"It's ok," she whispers. "It's
just to help with the pain." But
Plankton's gaze remained fixed
on the syringe, his breaths
coming in quick, shallow gasps.

Dr. McSquinty notices. "We need
to, Plankton. Now, do you know why
we need to have your wis..."

Plankton's antennae quivered
uncontrollably, his eye wide with fear.

"Breathe with me, Plankton,"
Karen whispered, her grip
steady. She watched as Dr.
McSquinty approached. Yet
Plankton's body started to
shake, his antennae quivering
wildly. The thought was too much, and
he uncontrollably began to shut
down again.

"It's okay," Karen murmured,
her voice a lifeline in the
storm of sensory overload.
"Let's take a step back, Doc."

Dr. McSquinty nodded, his tentacles
stilling. "Of course," he said,
his voice gentle. "Let's talk it through,
Karen. Tell me what Plankton
needs fo..."

But Plankton's antennae
were already drooping, his
body shutting down again.
The fear had become too much.

"Plankton," Karen's voice
was calm and firm. "Look at
me." She waited until
his gaze met hers. "We need
to do this, okay? For your
mouth to feel better." But all
that did was make him shake
more violently, his breaths shallower.

Dr. McSquinty's tentacles
stayed still. "How about
I show you first?" He gestured to
a model of a mouth, complete with
wisdom teeth. "This way, Plankton can
see without it being a direct
threat to him."

Karen's eyes searched
Plankton's, his antennae still
twitching in distress. "Okay,"
she murmured, her voice tight.
"Let's do that."

Dr. McSquinty nodded, his
tentacles moving to the model.
"This is your mouth, Plankton,"
he began, his voice calm. "And
these are your wisdom teeth.
First, we'll make sure you're
numb, okay?" He pointed.
"We'll use a gel that tastes like
bubblegum, and then we'll
put in a tiny lit..."

But Plankton's
body convulsed, his 
eye starting to roll 
back into his head.

"No, no, no," Karen
whispered, her voice
trembling. "Not again."

Plankton's body stilled,
his antennae drooping
as his mind retreated.

"It's okay," Karen whispered,
her eyes never leaving
his face. She turned
to Dr. McSquinty, her voice
steady despite her own fear.
"We need to find another
way?"

The surgeon nodded,
his tentacles still. "Let's
talk about options," he
said, his voice calm. "We can
try sedation, or perhaps
a different approach; we can even
anesthetize him."

Karen's gaze never left
Plankton's shaky form.

Dr. McSquinty's tentacles
moved in a comforting
wave. "Well, considering
his sensitivity to pain and
the potential for overstimulation,
I'd suggest anesthesia.
It'll keep him calm, and he won't
be awake at all. It's safe."

Karen's eyes searched Plankton's
form, her grip tightening
on his hand. "But he's never
been under anesthesia before,"
she said, her voice tight. 

Dr. McSquinty nodded, his tentacles
waving reassuringly. "It's completely
safe," he said. "We'll monitor
his vitals closely the entire time."

Karen's gaze remained
fixed on Plankton's
form, his antennae drooping.
"Okay," she whispered. "Plankton
baby, can you listen to me?"
Her voice was gentle, her
tone measured. Plankton's eye
slowly focused on her screen, his
body still trembling.

Her thumb traced circles on the
back of his hand. "We're going
to have to put you to sleep
so you don't feel any pain. Can
you do that for me?"

Plankton's antennae
twitched slightly, his gaze
on Karen's screen. He nodded,
his voice a faint whisper. "Okay."

Karen felt the tension
ease from her shoulders.
"Good," she murmured, her voice
soft. "We're going to take
care of this together."

Dr. McSquinty nodded,
his tentacles moving in a
slow, calming pattern. "I'll
make sure you're both as
comfortable as possible,"
he assured her, his gaze
shifting to Plankton.

Karen texts Sandy, "Plankton's
getting his wisdom teeth out 🦷"

Sandy replies, "Good luck!
Chip's fine, don't worry 👶💨"

The room was prepped,
the smells and sounds
minimized to prevent
overstimulation. Plankton
was laid on the chair, his antennae
twitching nervously. Karen
stood by his side, her hand
on his.

Dr. McSquinty approached,
his tentacles moving with
precision. He held up
a mask, the sweet smell
of gas wafting gently. "This
is the anesthesia," he explained.
"It'll help you sleep before we put the
Iv in. The Iv will continuously
administer anesthesia to keep
you asleep."

Plankton's antennae quivered,
his gaze flicking to Karen's
screen. She nodded, her smile
reassuring. "It's okay, love,"
she whispered. "You'll be fine."

Dr. McSquinty's tentacles
moved with a gentle rhythm as he
placed the mask on, and Plankton's
eye grew heavy. Karen's hand
stayed on his, her thumb rubbing
small circles into his palm.

The room grew fuzzy around
Plankton as the anesthesia took hold.
His antennae stopped quivering,
his body relaxing into the chair.

As the world faded to black,
his last thought was of Karen's
hand in his. A gentle squeeze,
and he was adrift.

new chip on the shoulders shockfic x

"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.

new AI Story Generator Family & Friends Karen x Plankton karen plankton POV Karen hanna

CHIP ON THE SHOULDERS xii
(By NeuroFabulous)


Plankton's antennae twitched,
his eye opening slightly to
see the familiar sight of their
front door. The house looked
warm and welcoming, a haven
from the overstimulation of
the outside world. He nodded,
his antennae drooping. "Home,"
he murmured, his voice still
slurred.

Karen helped him out of the car,
his legs wobbly under the weight
of his still-sluggish body. The
fresh air was a shock to his
sensitive system, his antennae
quivering at the sudden change.
"Come on," she urged gently,
her arm around his waist. "Let's
get you inside."

Plankton leaned heavily on
Karen as they made their way
up the path to the house.
The brightness of the sun
was almost painful, his eye
squinting against the light. "I'm
shorry," he mumbled, his voice
barely audible. "Soo tired..."

Karen chuckled softly, her
arm tightening around him.
"It's okay, Plankton," she said,
her voice a gentle breeze. "You
can sleep as soon as we..."

But her words were lost as
his antennae drooped, his
body giving in to the siren
call of sleep. His eyelid fluttered
closed, his head lolling forward.
"Plankton," she whispered, her
voice a gentle nudge. But his
body was heavy, his antennae
still.

With a sigh, Karen picked
him up, cradling him against
her chest. His antennae
twitched slightly at the sudden
motion, his eye opening to
slits. "Wha..." he mumbled, his
voice barely audible.

"You're okay, Plankton," she
soothed, her voice a gentle
whisper. "We're going inside."
Her arms were strong, her movements
slow and steady, carrying
his weight with ease. The
world outside faded away,
replaced by the warmth and
comfort of their home.

Inside, Sandy and Chip played chess,
the only other sounds the soft
footsteps of Karen's feet
and Plankton's muffled snores.

Sandy looked up as Karen
carried in the sleeping Plankton,
his antennae drooping like
wilted flowers. "How's he doing?"
she asked, her voice low.

Karen nodded. "The surgery went
well," she murmured. "But he's
still out of it."

Chip looked up from his chess
board, his eyes wide as his mom 
carried his dad. Sandy quickly 
set aside the chess pieces and 
rushed to help.

Karen set him on the couch,
his antennae brushing the fabric
as he was laid down. "Just
rest here for a moment,"
she murmured, her hand
smoothing his antennae. Chip
watched, his curiosity piqued by
his dad's vulnerable state. "Is he
okay?" he whispered, his eyes
searching Karen's face for answers.

"He's fine," she assured him,
her voice soft. "He's just really
tired from the surgery. The
anesthesia makes it hard for
his brain to stay awake."

Chip nodded, watching as Karen
tucked a blanket around Plankton's
form, her movements gentle and
careful. "Why does Dad snore?"
he asked, his curiosity
getting the better of him.

"It's just his body's way of
getting the air it needs," Karen
explained, her voice a soft
mumble.

The living room was bathed in
dim light, the curtains drawn to
keep the world at bay. Plankton's
snores grew louder, his antennae
twitching with each inhale.

Sandy's filled with concern. "Do you
want me to stay?" she asked, her
voice hushed. "Help with Chip?"

Karen's smile was filled
with gratitude. "That would
be amazing," she murmured.
"I need to keep an eye on
Plankton." She gestured to
the sleeping form on the couch.

Sandy nodded, her eyes
filled with understanding. "Of
course," she said. "I'll watch
Chip." Her voice was a gentle
whisper, not wanting to disturb
the fragile peace that had
descended upon the house.

With Plankton safely on
the couch, Karen turned to
face Sandy. "Thank you,"
she murmured, her voice
carrying the weight of the
day's events. "I don't know
what I'd do without you."

Sandy waved a dismissive
hand. "It's what friends are
for," she said, her smile
soft. "Now, go take care of
Plankton. I've got this."

Karen nodded, her eyes
filled with gratitude. She
knew she could trust Sandy
with Chip, especially in a time
like this. She bent over
Plankton, her hand brushing
his antennae gently. "Rest,"
she whispered, her voice a
soothing caress. "You're safe."

Plankton's antennae twitched
slightly, his sleep-laden eye
sliding open. The room
spun around him, the edges
soft and fuzzy. "Karen?" he
mumbled, his voice thick with
slumber.

Karen's face appeared above him,
a soft smile playing on her lips.
"You're okay, Plankton," she
whispered, her hand stroking
his antennae gently. "You're
safe."

The words washed over him
like a gentle wave, the warmth
of her voice seeping into
his bones. His antennae
quivered slightly, his eyelid
flickering. The room spun,
his body heavy and sluggish.
"Home," he murmured, his voice
a sleepy echo of his earlier
sentiment.

Karen's smile grew, her eyes
soft with affection. "Yes, we're
home," she said, her voice a
lullaby. "You can rest now."

Plankton let out a contented sigh, his
antennas drooping with exhaustion.

The gentle stroking of
Karen's hand on his antennae
was the last thing he felt before
his mind slipped fully into
the abyss of sleep. His
snores grew deep and even,
his body finally at peace.

new chip on the shoulders sleepicore xii

CHIP ON THE SHOULDERS xvi
(By NeuroFabulous)


"Could Dad feel anything?"

Karen's gaze is filled with
compassion. "No, sweetie," she
says gently. "That's the point
of the medicine. He didn't feel
anything."

Chip nods, his eyes
still on Plankton. "What's it like when
Dad woke up?" he asks, his voice
a soft curiosity.

Karen's voice is a gentle
narrative, her words painting
a picture of Plankton's
recovery. "He was a bit
confused at first," she says,
her eyes on Plankton. "But he
quickly understood where he
was."

Chip's eyes are a
mirror of his mother's,
his curiosity a living
entity. "But his mouth?"
he asks, his voice a quiet
probing.

Karen's smile is a
soft reassurance. "They gave
him something to make it
numb," she says, her words a gentle
explanation. "So he couldn't
feel the surgery."

Chip's eyes are a
swirl of understanding. "What
was it like when it was over?"
he asks, his voice a whisper
of fascination. "Before he
awoke from it? After they finished
while you waited for him to wake
up, what'd his face and mouth look like?"

Karen's gaze is a silent
answer, her eyes a soft story
of the surgery's aftermath. "His
cheeks were a bit puffy," she
whispers, her voice a gentle
narrative of the scene she'd
witnessed. "And there was
a bit of blood, but the
doctors cleaned him up. As
he slept, I could see his chest
rise and fall, and I knew he was
okay."

Chip's eyes are wide with
interest. "And then?"

Karen's voice is a soft
narrative, her words painting
the picture of Plankton's
recovery. "After they took
his teeth out, they put in
stitches," she says. "And now
his mouth needs time to heal."

Chip's eyes widen, his
mind racing with images.
"Stitches?" he repeats, his
voice a mix of fascination
and horror. "How'd they put
in stitches while he was sleeping?"

Karen's smile is a gentle
explanation. "They're very
careful," she says, her voice a
calm lake. "They use a
special thread that dissolves
so he doesn't need to come back
to have them removed."

Chip's eyes are a mix
of wonder and concern. 
"How'd he not bite the
dentist?"

Karen laughs softly,
a warm sound in the quiet
room. "They gave him
more medicine," she says,
her voice a gentle 
guide. "So his mouth
was completely relaxed."

Chip's eyes are wide
with wonder. "How did
it feel to wake up?"
he asks, his voice filled
with innocent curiosity.

Plankton's antennae quiver
slightly, his eye opening to
look at his son. "It was...
strange," he murmurs, his voice
a distant echo of his experience.
"Everything was blurry, and my mouth
felt funny."

Chip nods, his eyes wide with
interest. "But it's better
now?" he asks, hope coloring
his voice.

Plankton's antennae twitch
slightly. "Mmh," he mumbles,
his voice a hoarse affirmation.
"It's okay; still healing.."

"How about we watch a movie?"
Karen suggests, her voice a gentle
distraction from the pain. "Something
fun, to take your mind off it?"

Plankton's antennae twitch slightly,
his interest piqued despite his discomfort.
"The Dirty Bubble?" he murmurs.

Karen's smile is a nod, her eyes
filled with the promise of
distraction. "Yeah," she says,
getting up to grab the remote.
"It's about the underwater world's
biggest heist," she says, her voice
a gentle coaxing. "I think you'll
enjoy it, Chip."

Plankton's antennae twitch with
slight interest as he sits up
more, his body protesting with a
soft groan. Chip moves closer,
his eyes on his father.

Plankton's antennae twitch.
Karen and Chip sit on either
side of him. The movie's sounds fill
the room, the images
dancing across the
television screen.

As the film progresses, Plankton's
eye grows heavier, his head
slowly tilting towards Chip.

Chip, lost in the story, feels the
slightest pressure against his
shoulder. He looks down to see
his father's antennae quivering,
his head leaning closer.
Plankton's body is a silent
admission of his exhaustion.
He's trying to stay alert, but
his eye keeps slipping shut,
his antennae drooping slightly.

The movie plays on.
Chip feels the weight of his
father's head, a warmth that
spreads through his body.

Plankton's antennae are a
quiet whisper, his breathing
even. Karen's gaze flits from
the TV to the two of them,
her heart swelling with
gratitude. This is progress.

Chip feels his dad's antennae
brush against his arm, the
sensation a soft reminder of
his presence.

The movie's end credits
roll, the room bathed in the
soft glow of the TV. Sandy's
hand is warm on the remote,
turning off the film.

Chip then hears a gentle
snore against his shoulder,
his dad's antennae lying
limp beside him. He looks
down to see Plankton's eye
closed, his head resting
heavily.

Karen's smile is a quiet
celebration. "Looks like he's
asleep," she murmurs, her
voice a soft whisper.

Chip's eyes are wide with
surprise. "On me?" he asks,
his voice filled with
disbelief.

Karen nods, her smile
a warm embrace. "It's okay," she
whispers, her eyes on
Plankton's sleeping form. "He's
just really tired."

Chip's heart swells with
pride. It's the first time
his dad's ever fallen
asleep on him, a silent
testament to the trust
building between them.

He carefully shifts his
shoulder, making room for
Plankton's antennae. Karen's
eyes are a gentle nod of
understanding. "Let him
sleep," she whispers.

The room is a soft
symphony of Plankton's snores
and the distant hum of
the refrigerator. Chip
watches his father, his
expression one of wonder.

new chip on the shoulders moviecore xvi

CHIP ON THE SHOULDERS xvii
(By NeuroFabulous)


Chip's never felt so close to
his dad, not even when they
used to build sandcastles
on the beach. Plankton's antennae
tickle his neck, a gentle
reminder of the trust
that's been slowly
building between them.

The snores are a comforting
background to the quiet
evening. "Can I sleep out
here, next to Dad?" Chip asks.

Karen nods, her eyes filled
with understanding. "Of course,"
she whispers, her voice a soft
caress in the darkness. "Just be
careful not to disturb him. Let's
get you both set up."

They work together,
moving pillows and blankets,
careful not to jostle Plankton.
Chip watches as his mother
gently lifts his father's
head, placing it gently on
his own pillow as Chip stands
up. They move a soft foot bench
for Chip to sleep on next to Plankton.

Karen pulls a blanket over
both of them, tucking it around
them both.

Chip's heart races with excitement,
his mind racing with the newfound
connection. He lies down on the
foot bench, his body tense with
anticipation. Plankton's antennae
twitch slightly as he shifts, but he
doesn't stir.

Karen's eyes are a soft
moon, her gaze a gentle
reminder of the night ahead.
"Remember," she whispers. "Don't
move too much. He needs his
space."

Chip nods, his eyes
filled with understanding.
He watches as Karen
disappears upstairs,
the light flickering before
going out. The room is
a canvas of shadows, Plankton's
snores a soft metronome.

He lies still, his mind
whirling with thoughts. It's
strange, feeling his dad's
body so close.
He's always been the one to
move away, the one to hide.
But here he is, sleeping.

The room is quiet, save for
Plankton's snores. Chip
swallows, his heart thumping.
He reaches out his hand,
his fingers trembling slightly.
He's never felt so
nervous about something so simple.

He touches Plankton's antennae,
his heart in his throat.
They twitch slightly at the
contact, but Plankton doesn't
wake up. Chip's breath
escapes in a silent whoosh.

He holds his hand there,
his fingertips exploring the
softness of his father's antennae.
They're so delicate, like
tiny whiskers. Plankton's
breathing doesn't change.

Encouraged, Chip slides his
hand further up, his heart
racing. He's never felt so
close to his dad, not even
during those rare moments
when Plankton allows a brief
hug. His hand comes to rest
on Plankton's shoulder, his
father's arm lying limp.

Plankton's snores hitch for a
moment, his antennae
twitching erratically. Chip's
heart leaps into his throat,
but then Plankton relaxes again,
his snores resuming their
comforting rhythm.

Chip's hand remains on
his father's shoulder,
his mind racing with thoughts
of all the times he's wanted
to be closer. He's never
dared to touch him like
this before, afraid of
setting off a storm of
sensory overload.

But now, as Plankton sleeps,
his antennae lying still against
his head, Chip feels a strange
sense of peace. He watches his
father's chest rise and fall,
his snores a soothing
lullaby. He's always been so
quick to retreat into his
shell, but here, in this quiet
moment, he's vulnerable,
his defenses down.

Chip's hand remains on
his father's shoulder, his
thumb tracing gentle circles.
He wonders if Plankton knows
how much he's wanted to
connect like this. How much
he's longed for the kind of
closeness that other kids share
with their dads. The antennae
on Plankton's head twitch
slightly, and Chip holds his
breath. But Plankton's snores
remain steady, his body relaxed.

A smile tugs at the corner of
Chip's mouth. He's never felt
this level of acceptance from
his father, not even during
their rare moments of
physical contact.

He leans closer, his eyes
studying Plankton's sleeping
face. His father's cheeks are
still a bit puffy from the
surgery, but there's a peace to
his expression that Chip hasn't
seen in a long time. His antennae
lie still, no longer twitching
with pain or irritation.

Chip's hand on his shoulder
feels like an anchor, a
connection he's longed for.
He wonders if Plankton's
dreams are filled with the
colors and shapes of their
underwater world, or if he
dreams of a place beyond the
reef, a place where his
inventions come to life. Chip
simply watches him sleep,
his own eyes drooping with
exhaustion.

As the night stretches
on, the snores become a
lullaby, a rhythm that
soothes Chip's racing
thoughts. He's so close to
his dad, closer than he's
ever been. The room feels
smaller, yet somehow
more expansive, like the
ocean outside their door.

He watches Plankton's chest
rise and fall with each breath,
his antennae lying still against
his forehead. It's strange,
seeing his father so vulnerable,
so open to the world.
In sleep, Plankton's usual
defensive posture has
melted away, leaving
behind a softness that Chip
has never seen before.

He tentatively reaches out
his other hand, his fingers
sliding under the blanket to
rest lightly on Plankton's hand.

It's a small gesture,
but it feels like a monumental
step forward. Plankton's hand
twitches, but doesn't pull away.
Chip's breath catches in his throat,
his heart racing.

He holds his breath, waiting
for a reaction. But Plankton's
snores remain steady.

Chip's heart thumps in his chest.
He's never felt this close to
his father. It's like they're
sharing a secret, a quiet
moment of understanding.

He squeezes Plankton's hand gently,
his thumb tracing the outline
of his father's palm.

Plankton's antennae twitch again,
his hand moving slightly under
Chip's.

Chip's heart leaps, his eyes
widening. Did he feel that?
A soft squeeze from Plankton's
hand, a silent communication.

He squeezes back, his grip gentle.
Plankton's snores continue,
his hand relaxing into Chip's.
The moment stretches, a warm
band connecting the two of
them.

Chip's heart is a caged
bird, fluttering with excitement.
He's never felt so close to
his dad, never thought this
was possible.

He watches as Plankton's
snores deepen, his hand in
his father's a silent promise
of support. The room is a
symphony of quiet moments,
each breath a note of peace.
Chip's lulled by the steady
beat of his father's snores.

His eyes drift shut, his mind
a kaleidoscope of thoughts.
He dreams of a world where
Plankton's antennae don't
twitch with fear, where the
shutdowns don't steal him
away. He dreams of a future
where they can share laughter,
not just the quiet moments
like this.

Hours later, Plankton's snores
have turned into soft, even
breaths. The room is bathed
in the gentle glow of early
morning, the sun peeking
through the curtains.

Plankton stirs, his antennae
twitching as he awakens to
a new day. He blinks slowly,
his eye adjusting to the
light. And then he sees it.

Chip's hand, curled around
his own, a warm pressure
that grounds him. His son's
body, curled into the
foot bench, his chest rising
and falling silently with sleep.

Plankton's antennae twitch
slightly as he blinks,
his mind foggy with the
remnants of sleep. He tries
to sit up, to pull away, but
his body protests, a dull
throb in his cheeks reminding
him of the surgery's aftermath.

He feels a warmth beside him,
his son's hand in his own, a
gentle reminder of the night's
unexpected intimacy. His heart
thumps in his chest, the
realization hitting him like
a gentle wave. Chip had been
there, holding on, a silent
support through his slumber.

Plankton's antennae quiver, his
brain slowly waking up. He's
not used to this, to being
touched so casually, so
openly. It's a foreign
sensation, but not entirely
unpleasant. He looks down
at their joined hands,
his son's thumb resting
against his palm.

He's torn between retreating
and embracing the moment,
his mind racing with
conflicting thoughts. But
his son's gentle breaths, the
weight of his body against
his side...

He feels a strange warmth,
a feeling he's often chased away.
But here, in the quiet
pre-dawn light, he lets it in.

Plankton's antennae twitch, a
quiet acknowledgment of his son's
presence. He doesn't pull away,
his hand still in Chip's.

His mind is a tornado of thoughts,
spinning with the realization
that he's allowed this unsolicited
closeness with Chip.

Plankton's heart beats faster,
his antennae quivering slightly.
He's not used to this, the
unexpected warmth, the silent
comfort of his son's touch.
But as the moments stretch
into something more, he finds
that he doesn't want to pull away.

new chip on the shoulders sleepovercore xvii

CHIP ON THE SHOULDERS xiii
(By NeuroFabulous)


Chip and Sandy hovered
at the edge of the room,
their eyes wide with curiosity.
"What happens when you
have your wisdom teeth out?"
Chip asked, his voice a soft
whisper.

Sandy shrugged, her own
interest piqued. "They take
them out so they don't hurt
you," she said, her voice
thoughtful. "But I don't know
what it's like."

Karen's eyes remained on
Plankton's face, her
thumb tracing gentle circles
on his palm. "It's not
always easy," she murmured.
"Especially for someone like
him." Her gaze flickered
to Chip, her expression
serious. "Remember, buddy,
everyone experiences things
differently. We have to be
patient and understand."

Chip nodded, his gaze
never leaving Plankton's
sleeping form. He was
fascinated by his dad's
autism, the way it made him
see the world so uniquely.
He was eager to learn more, to
be there for him in ways
he never knew were needed.

Sandy sat beside them,
her eyes on the chessboard,
lost in thought. "I've heard
of autism before," she said,
her voice barely above a
whisper. "But I didn't know
it could affect Plankton."

Karen nodded, her eyes
never leaving her husband's
face. "It's part of who he
is," she murmured. "It's
not always easy, but it's
what makes him special."
Her gaze softened as she
looked at Chip. "And it's
important we learn to support
each other, especially when
things are tough." Karen
stands up, getting vanilla ice
cream from the freezer.

With a spoon in hand, she
wakes Plankton up gently, her
touch featherlight on his
shoulder. "Hey," she whispers,
her voice a gentle nudge.
"You need to wake up for
a moment."

Plankton's antennae twitch,
his sleepy eye opening to
find Karen's smiling face. "Wha?"
he mumbles, the gauze in his
mouth making his words
indistinct.

"Ice cream," she whispers, holding
up the bowl. His eyes widen
slightly, the mention of the cold,
soothing treat cutting through the
haze of his anesthesia-induced
sleep. "For the swelling," she
reminds him gently, her voice
a soft caress. "Let's get rid of
the gauze first.."

With trembling hands, Plankton
reaches for the gauze in his
mouth, his antennae quivering
slightly. Karen's hand guides
his, her touch a gentle
reminder of her presence. He
pulls it out with a grimace,
his mouth feeling strange
without the pressure. The formerly
white gauze is stained pink.

Karen takes it from him, her
movements swift and efficient.
"Here," she says, her voice a soft
whisper. "Let's get you some ice
cream." She brings the spoon
to his mouth.

Plankton's eye widens. He 
opens his mouth, his antennae 
drooping with exhaustion. 
He makes a contented noise,
his antennae twitching slightly.
"Mmm," he murmurs, his voice
barely a whisper.

Karen feeds him 
another spoonful
when his antennae perk up
slightly, his sleepy gaze
locking on hers. "It's okay,"
she soothes, her voice a gentle
whisper. "You can eat."
"Mmph," he mumbles.

The coldness of the ice
cream is a shock to his
sensitive mouth, but the
sweetness soon overpowers
the discomfort. His antennae
twitch with each spoonful,
his eye slowly focusing.
"Manilla cweam," he murmurs, the
words barely coherent. Karen
smiles, her eyes shining with
relief.

He takes another 
bite, the creaminess 
of the ice cream
coating his tongue. 
"Mmph," he sighs, his 
antennae drooping
with contentment. 
Karen chuckles
softly, her hand steady
as she feeds him. 
Chip watches 
as Plankton's 
eyelid flutters.

"He's really tired,
huh?" he says, his voice
small. Sandy nods, 
a knowing smile
on her face. "Yeah, but
the ice cream will help
with the swelling,"
she assures him.

Karen nods, her
movements careful as
she feeds Plankton another
spoonful. "It's important
to stay ahead of the pain,"
she whispers. "And I
think he enjoys it too."
Her eyes sparkle with
mirth, the tension of
the day briefly forgotten
as they watch Plankton's
sleepy indulgence.

Plankton's antennae twitch,
his eye half-lidded as he savors
the ice cream. The sweetness
of the vanilla is a soothing
contrast to the metallic
tang of his mouth, the coldness
a gentle reprieve from
the surgery.

Each spoonful is a battle
against his need for sleep,
his body demanding rest
while his taste buds revel in
the creamy delight. Karen's
hands are gentle, her touch
steady as she feeds him, her eyes
always on his face, watching
for any signs of pain or distress.

Chip sits beside them, his eyes
widening with every spoonful.
"Dad's really out of it, isn't
he?" he whispers to Sandy.
Karen nods, her smile soft.
"The anesthesia can do that,"
she says. "But the ice cream
will help with the swelling."

Plankton's antennae twitch as
his eyes struggle to stay
open, the weight of sleep
crushing down on him. Each
spoonful of ice cream is a
tiny victory, a brief reprieve
from the siren's call of his bed.
He mumbles something incoherent,
his antennae drooping. "What
was that?" Karen asks, leaning
closer to hear him better.

"M'tired," he manages, his voice
slurred. Chip giggles softly
at his father's sleepy state,
his own energy a stark
contrast to the slumber that
threatens to consume Plankton.
"You can sleep soon," Karen
soothes, her voice a gentle
reminder. "But let's fi-"

But Plankton's antennae
droop, his eye slipping
closed once more. His snores
fill the quiet room, a
comforting rhythm that speaks
of his deep rest. Karen
sighs, her hand pausing mid-air
with the spoon of ice cream.
"C'mon, Plank..."

He stirs slightly, his antennae
twitching. "Mmh?" he mumbles, his voice
a sleepy whisper. Karen's smile
is patient, her love for him
shining through her eyes. "Just a
little more," she coaxes, her voice
gentle. "For the swelling." She
helps him sit up straighter.

The coldness of the ice cream
is a jolt to his senses, his
eye opening wider. He nods,
his antennae perking up slightly.
"Okay," he murmurs, his voice
still thick with sleep.

Karen continues to feed
him, her movements slow and
deliberate. Each spoonful is
a battle won, his eyelid
fighting to stay open. "You're
doing great," she whispers,
her thumb brushing his hand.

Sandy and Chip watch
Plankton's struggle.
Chip's eyes are wide, taking
in every detail.

Karen's hand is a
steady presence.
But Plankton's body fights
back, each spoonful a
challenge to stay awake.

He takes a deep breath, his
antennas fluttering as he tries
to focus on the taste of the
vanilla ice cream. "M'okay,"
he murmurs, his voice barely
above a whisper. But his eyelid
droops, the weight of sleep
too much to resist.

Karen's eyes fill with
determination. She'll get him
through this. She feeds him
another spoonful, her voice
a gentle chant. "Keep going,
Plankton. You can do it."

His antennae quiver slightly
as he tastes the ice cream,
his eye blinking slowly. "M'tryin',"
he whispers, the words
almost lost.

Karen's voice is a soft
mantra, her words a gentle
push to keep him conscious.
"Just a little more," she
coaxes, her hand steady as
she brings the spoon to
his lips.

Plankton's antennae twitch, his
eye sliding closed again. "Mmph,"
he protests, his voice a sleepy
mumble. The coldness of the
ice cream is a jolt to his
sluggish system, his body
instinctively swallowing.

Karen's voice is a gentle
coax, her touch a comforting
presence. "You can do it,"
she whispers, her eyes filled with
love and determination. "Just
a few more bites."

But Plankton's body has
other plans. His antennae
twitch with each spoonful,
his eyelid a battleground between
staying awake and giving in
to sleep. "Mmh," he murmurs,
his voice barely audible. "Tired."

Karen's eyes never leave
his face, her smile filled with
compassion. "I know, Plankton,"
she whispers. "But we need
to finish this." She holds the
spoon to his mouth, her eyes
filled with understanding.

Plankton's antennae twitch
slightly, his eye opening with
difficulty. "Mmh?" he mumbles,
his voice a sleepy echo of his
exhaustion.

Karen's voice is a gentle
reminder. "Just a little
more, sweetie," she says, her
tone filled with love and
concern. She holds the spoon
to his mouth again, her
expression a silent plea for
his cooperation.

Plankton's antennae wobble, his
eye barely open. He takes
another bite, his antennae
drooping with each spoonful.
"Almost done," she whispers, her
hands steady. "You're doing
so well."

He nods slightly, his antennae
twitching with the effort to
stay awake. "Mmph," he mumbles,
his voice a sleepy grumble. The
ice cream is a sweet torment,
his mouth watering with each
tiny bite. "M'tired," he whispers,
his antennae quivering.

Karen's eyes are soft with
understanding. She knows
the struggle of his autistic
brain to process the world,
even in sleep. "Just a little
more," she soothes, her voice a
whispered promise of rest. She
feeds him another spoonful,
his eye fluttering shut again.

The sweetness of the vanilla
ice cream is a siren's call to
his senses, briefly keeping
his consciousness afloat. "Mm,"
he murmurs, his antennae
twitching slightly. The coldness
of the treat is a stark contrast
to the warmth of his sleepiness.

Karen's voice is a gentle
guiding light, her words a
soothing melody to his sluggish
mind. "You're doing great,"
she whispers, her smile a soft
ray of comfort in the dimly
lit room. "Al-"

But Plankton's antennae
droop, his eye slipping
closed once more. His snores
return, deep and rhythmic.

Karen sighs, her eyes
soft with love. "Okay," she
whispers, setting the spoon
aside. "You've had enough."
Her voice is a gentle
goodbye to the waking world
as she helps him lie down,
his body a deadweight against
the couch cushions.

new chip on the shoulders icecreamcore xiii

"You're going to 
be okay," Karen 
assured Plankton. 
He clutched her 
hand. "I'm right here."

The receptionist's 
voice echoed through the 
large waiting room. "Plankton?"

Karen's heart jumped. 
She squeezed her 
husband's hand.

They walked down the 
hallway, Plankton's 
breaths shallow, eye
darting around the 
white, sterile walls. 
The nurse led them to 
a small room.

"Just a few 
questions," the nurse 
smiled, her voice 
soothing as she 
helped him in the
recliner.

The nurse, 
noticing his 
agitation, spoke 
slowly and clearly. 
"We're just going 
to take your blood 
pressure, okay?"

The nurse 
wrapped the 
cuff around 
his bicep, her 
movements gentle. 
The hiss of the 
air pump filled 
the tense silence.

"Look at me, 
Plankton," Karen 
whispered, her 
calming gaze 
meeting his. 
"Take deep 
breaths."

He inhaled deeply, 
his chest rising and 
falling in a 
deliberate rhythm. 
The nurse waited 
patiently, giving 
them space.

As the cuff 
tightened, Plankton's 
eye squeezed shut.

The nurse 
completed her task 
quickly, her voice 
steady. "Good job," 
she said, patting his 
hand. Karen felt his 
fear spike, but 
his grip on her 
hand remained firm
as the oral surgeon
walked in.

Dr. Marquez 
nodded at them, 
his demeanor calm 
and professional. 
"Hello, Plankton. I 
see we're getting 
ready for your 
wisdom teeth."

He noticed 
Plankton's tension 
and turned to 
Karen. "You
earlier mentioned 
his neurodisability. Is there 
anything special we 
can do to help 
make him comfortable?"

Karen's screen 
lit up with 
gratitude. "Yes, 
thank you." She 
explained his need 
for calm and his
sensory sensitivities.

Dr. Marquez 
nodded thoughtfully. 
"We can use a 
weighted blanket to 
help with that. It 
provides a gentle 
pressure that can 
be quite comforting 
for some of my 
patients."

He turned to the 
nurse. "Could you 
please bring one?"

The nurse nodded 
and left the room.
When she returned, 
she carried a 
soft, blue weighted 
blanket they warmed.

They placed the 
blanket over 
Plankton, the 
weight evenly 
distributed. His 
body visibly 
relaxed under its 
soothing embrace.

"It's okay," Karen 
whispered, stroking 
his antennae. "This will 
help."

Plankton felt the 
warmth of the 
blanket, the weight 
of it pressing down 
on his shoulders and 
chest. But it did little
to ease his dread.

"Thank you, Dr. 
Marquez," Karen 
managed a smile, 
relief washing over 
her. She knew how 
important these 
accommodations were 
for her husband.

The doctor 
explained the 
procedure, using 
simple terms that 
Plankton could 
understand. Karen 
noted how he 
tailored his 
explanation to 
avoid overwhelming 
details that might 
trigger anxiety.

The anesthesiologist 
entered, her 
smile kind. "We're 
going to give you 
some medicine to 
help you sleep," she 
said gently, "and then 
you'll wake up without 
feeling a thing."

Plankton nodded, 
his eye wide. Karen leaned 
in, her voice low. "You 
can hold my hand 
as you fall 
asleep."

The anesthesiologist 
prepared the IV, 
but Plankton's grip 
on Karen's hand grew 
tighter. Dr. Marquez 
noticed his distress 
and suggested a 
different approach. 
"How about some 
laughing gas first?" 
he offered. "And perhaps
a topical numbing agent.."

The nurse 
quickly set up the gas 
mask, explaining 
each step. "This will 
help you relax," she 
said, placing it over 
him. "Just breathe
normally."

The sweet smell of 
the nitrous oxide filled
him, yet he still remained
awake.

"It's okay, Plankton," 
Karen said soothingly.
"Just keep breathing."

He took a tentative 
breath, feeling the 
gas fill his lungs. 
The room began to 
spin, but not in 
the scary way he'd 
feared. It was more 
like floating. The 
weight of the blanket 
now felt like a gentle 
hug from the ocean 
depths, a warm embrace 
from his childhood home.

Dr. Marquez waited 
until Plankton's breathing 
steadied, each gesture 
carefully calculated 
to avoid any sudden 
movements that might 
startle his patient.

"You're doing great,"
he assured Plankton, his 
voice a gentle wave 
lapping at the shore of 
his anxiety. "You're 
almost there."

Plankton inhaled 
another lungful of gas, 
his eye fluttering 
closed. The nurse 
gently began applying 
the topical numbing 
agent, her movements 
carefully choreographed 
to avoid any sudden 
jolts. Karen held 
his other hand, her 
thumb tracing 
comforting circles 
on his palm.

"You're safe," she 
whispered. "I'm here."

The gas grew 
heavier, his mind 
drifted further 
from the cold 
reality of the room. 
He felt himself sinking 
into the chair, the 
weighted blanket 
now a warm sea of 
comfort. His grip 
on Karen's hand grew 
looser, his breaths 
deepening.

The doctor 
nodded to the 
anesthesiologist, 
who began the IV 
drip after using the
topical numbing 
agent. Plankton's 
fear didn't vanish, 
but it became 
manageable, a distant 
thunderstorm rather than 
a hurricane in his 
face. His eye
closed completely, 
his body going limp 
under the blanket.

Karen watched 
as the surgical 
team moved with 
precision, their 
masks and caps 
dancing in her 
peripheral vision. 
The beeping of 
machines and 
the murmur of 
medical jargon 
filled her ears, 
but all she focused 
on was the rhythm 
of Plankton's 
breathing.

The anesthesiologist 
checked the monitors 
and gave a nod. 
"He's ready," she 
said quietly. Dr. 
Marquez took his 
position, his gloved 
hands poised over 
Plankton's now open 
mouth after removing
the gas mask.

Karen's gaze was 
steady, her love and 
support unwavering as 
the surgical team 
moved in unison. The 
whirring of the 
instruments began, a 
soft mechanical lullaby 
to the background of 
Plankton's deep, 
even breaths.

The surgery itself 
was a dance of precision, 
each gesture a step 
carefully choreographed to 
minimize discomfort. 
The doctor's hands 
were steady as he 
removed the wisdom teeth. 
Karen could see the 
tense lines in Plankton's 
face soften under the 
influence of the anesthesia.

The anesthesiologist 
checked the monitors 
continuously, ensuring 
his vital signs remained 
steady. The nurse offered 
Karen a chair, but she 
chose to stand, her eyes 
never leaving Plankton's 
face.

As the surgery 
progressed, Karen felt 
the tension in the 
room ease. The surgical 
team worked with 
efficiency, their 
movements synchronized 
like a well-oiled 
machine. Dr. Marquez 
spoke in hushed tones 
with his assistants, 
each word a gentle 
whisper in the symphony 
of medical sounds.

Plankton's breaths 
steadied, the rhythmic 
beep of the heart 
monitor a soothing 
reminder that he was 
still with her, that 
his anxiety had 
been replaced by 
the peacefulness of 
deep sedation.

The doctor's 
instruments 
continued to dance, 
a silent ballet 
of precision and care. 
The nurse occasionally 
glanced at Karen, 
offering a reassuring 
smile as they suture
his gums with dissolving
stitches.

"Alright, 
we're all done," 
Dr. Marquez 
announced, 
his voice a gentle 
interruption to 
the symphony of 
beeps and whirs. 
"Let's wake him up 
slowly."

Karen felt 
her own heart 
rate spike as 
the anesthesiologist 
began reversing 
the medication. 
They removed the 
IV drip
and the nurse 
wiped Plankton's 
mouth with a soft 
cloth, her touch 
as gentle as a sea 
anemone caressing 
his skin.

His eye flickered 
open, unfocused 
and hazy. He 
blinked slowly, 
taking in the
surroundings. Karen's 
screen was the first 
thing he saw, 
a beacon in the 
medical fog.

"You're okay," 
she murmured, her 
voice the gentle 
hum of a distant 
lighthouse guiding 
his consciousness 
back to shore.

Plankton blinked 
again, his vision 
swimming into focus. 
The weighted blanket 
was still wrapped 
around him, the 
comforting pressure 
now a grounding 
reminder of her 
presence. His mouth 
felt foreign, as if it 
belonged to someone 
else. The nurse 
offered him water, 
and he sipped it 
slowly, feeling the 
coolness soothe his 
throat.

"How do you feel?" 
Dr. Marquez asked, 
his voice a soft 
wave breaking over 
the shore of Plankton's 
awareness. Plankton 
nodded, his grip 
on Karen's hand firm.

"Good," he 
managed to murmur, 
his voice thick with 
the aftermath of 
the anesthesia. Karen 
could see the 
relief in his eye, 
the storm of fear 
now a distant memory.

( emojicombos.com/neurofabulous )

new author is neurodivergent healing and caring helping others sensory advice sensory needs POV Karen neurofabulous

(Autistic author)

Plankton has autism,
which only he and
Karen know about.
They're able to keep
it a secret, per Plankton's
request, even from
their son Chip.

So when Chip comes
home early from 
football, he's surprised
to see his dad staring
at the blank wall as his
mom rubs his back.

"Is everything okay?"
he asks, stepping
into the room.

Plankton's eye
is unfocused,
his body rigid,
like he's stuck in
some invisible vice.
Karen's hand pauses
on his shoulder,
and she turns to
face Chip, her smile
forced. "Yeah, just a
little...spell," she says.

Plankton's absence seizure
has struck without warning.
It's like a silent storm
passing through the room,
leaving no trace except
the vacant look in his eye.

The room seems to
shrink around them
as Chip takes in his
dad's unblinking stare.
He's never seen this.
"Should I get help?"
Chip's voice cracks.

Karen shakes her head
quickly, her eyes
swimming with unshed
tears. "No, it's fine.
Just...give us a
minute." She waves
a hand, trying to
dismiss the concern
that has etched itself
on Chip's features.

But Chip lingers,
his gaze flickering
between his parents.
"What's happening?"
he whispers.

Karen sighs, her
hand dropping to her
side. She looks at
Plankton. "It's
just something your
dad has," she says,
choosing her words
carefully. "It's like
his brain goes on
pause for a bit."

Chip watches as
his dad's chest rises
and falls in a steady
rhythm, the only
indication that he's
still present in the
physical world. "But
what do you mean?"
his eyes search hers
for understanding.

Karen's eyes flit to
Plankton before returning
to Chip's. She takes a
deep breath, bracing
herself. "It's
not dangerous, just a
little scary-looking."

The silence stretches
until it feels like a
rubber band about to
snap. Chip's curiosity
overpowers his fear.
He takes a tentative
step closer.

"Does he know we're
here?" Chip whispers.

"Not really," Karen murmurs,
"But he'll come back to us."

Chip reaches out, a tremor
in his fingertips, and
touches Plankton's arm,
but the seizure doesn't
seem to notice.

"Dad?" Chip whispers,
his voice a soft echo
in the stillness.

Plankton's body remains
stiff as a statue,
his gaze fixed on a
spot somewhere beyond
the wallpaper's pattern.
Karen's hand moves to
cover Chip's, her touch
warm and reassuring.
"It's okay," she whispers
back, "It's part of him.
Don't poke or shake him,
just let it pass."

The seconds tick by,
each one feeling heavier
than the last. Chip's
heart thuds in his chest,
his mind racing with
questions and fear.
He's never seen his
dad like this before,
so...so vulnerable.

As the seizure slowly
releases its grip, Plankton
blinks, his eye refocusing
on the room. He looks
confused, like he's waking
from a deep sleep. Karen's
smile relaxes, the tension
in her shoulders easing.
Plankton turns to her,
his gaze flickering with
recognition before
falling on Chip.

"Chip?" His voice is
raspy.

Karen nods at Chip,
silently urging him to
speak. "Yeah, Dad, it's me."

Plankton's expression
shifts. "What...what happened?"
his voice is frail.

Chip opens his mouth,
but Karen steps in
quickly. "You had a little
moment, that's all. Nothing
to worry about," she says, her
tone light. But her hand is
still on Plankton's back,
ready to provide support
if needed.

Plankton's eye darts around,
his hands clenching and unclenching
as if trying to remember
how to interact with the
world again. He notices
Chip's hand reaching out and
flinches slightly, his discomfort
with physical contact clear.

Chip, sensing this, pulls his
hand back, his cheeks flushing.
He's always known his dad was
a bit...different. Quirky.
But he's never seen this side
of him.

"It's okay," Karen says, her voice
soothing as she squeezes Plankton's
hand. "You're okay."

Plankton nods, his mind
slowly untangling from the
cotton wool fog of the seizure.
He looks around the room,
familiar objects snapping back
into focus. His eye lands
on Chip, who's watching him
with a mix of worry and curiosity.
He clears his throat. "Just a...moment.
I'm fine now." He tries to smile,
but it feels awkward and forced.

Chip's eyes don't leave him. 
"What was that?"
he asks, his voice still low.

Karen looks at Plankton. It's time.
"Your dad has something
called autism, Chip," she says.
"It's like his brain works in
a special way."

Chip's eyes widen. "What does
that mean?"

Karen sits down beside Plankton,
who's still gathering himself.

"It's like...sometimes, his brain
takes a little break from the world,"
she explains gently, her hand still
on his shoulder. "It can be
overwhelming, with all the sounds,
sights, and people around."

Chip nods slowly, trying 
to grasp the concept.

Plankton swallows hard,
his mind racing. He's always
been so careful to hide
this part of himself, not
wanting to be seen as
less than or weird.

But as he looks at Chip,
his heart swells with a mix
of fear and hope. What if
his son can't understand?
What if this changes
everything?

Karen gives him a nod,
encouraging him to go on.
With a deep breath, Plankton
starts to speak. "You know
how sometimes you get really
focused on something and
the world just fades away?"

Chip nods.

"Well, for me, it's like 
that," Plankton says, his voice
steadying. "But sometimes, my brain does it
without me asking. It's like my thoughts are a TV
with too many channels playing at once, and it
just...shuts off for a bit to give me a break."

Chip nods, trying to 
imagine what that's like.
"Does it hurt?"

Plankton shakes his head.
"Well, it's just...different.
Sometimes I don't realize,
sometimes it's tough."

Chip looks up at him,
his eyes full of questions
and a nascent empathy.
"Can you control..."

"No Chip, I can't 
'control' it!" He
snaps back.

"Hey hey, it's okay," Karen whispers,
meeting his gaze. "He's
not judging you, Plankton."

Plankton takes a deep breath,
his eye fluttering shut. "I know,"
he murmurs, but his tone is
anything but convinced.

Chip's gaze softens, his
fear replaced with a
determined curiosity.
"What's it like?" he asks,
his voice gentle.

Plankton's shoulders rise
and fall with a sigh.
"It's like being in a
little bubble," he says,
his eye distant. "Everything's
far away, muffled. And when
it's over, it's like...like
popping back into reality."

Chip's curiosity grows,
his mind racing with questions.
"But why do you keep it a secret?"
he asks, his voice tentative.

Karen looks to Plankton,
who's still visibly shaken.
"We didn't want it to define you,"
she says softly. "We wanted you
to see him as just your dad,
not as someone with a label."

Plankton nods. "And I didn't
want to be different," he adds,
his voice barely above a whisper.

Chip considers this, his gaze
flitting from his dad to the
ground. "But you are," he says,
his voice earnest. "You're 
my dad, even with your..."
He stumbles over the word
"...seizures."

Karen's eyes fill with pride
at her son's acceptance.
Plankton's tension how
ever, heightens at Chip's
description.

"It's not a seizure,"
he corrects, his voice
slightly defensive.

Chip looks confused.
"But it looks like it,"
he says, frowning.

Karen nods. "It's similar,
but not the same," she explains
before Plankton can interject.
"It's part of your dad's autism."

Chip looks at Plankton, his
eyes searching for something
he's never noticed before.
"But why did you keep it
a secret?" he asks again.

Plankton's gaze drifts
to the floor, his voice
soft. "Because people
can be cruel, son," he says,
his words heavy. "They
don't always understand."

Chip nods, his eyes
welling up with tears. "But I
do," he says, his voice
shaking. "I mean, I don't get
it all, but I understand
that you're still you."

Plankton's expression
softens, his fear of
rejection dissipating slightly.
He looks up at Karen,
his gaze filled with
gratitude. She gives him
a small smile, her eyes
telling him it's okay to be
his true self.

new Written by AI Karen x Plankton Karen/Chip Plankton II plankton

WHEN THE CHIP FALLS i/ii

(Autistic author)


Karen picks up 
her son, Chip, 
from a friend's 
house. "Hi, mom!
Where's dad?" He
asks her. 

"Don't worry, we'll
see him soon." 
They 
return home.

Once inside, Chip
throws his book bag
on the couch, 
his sneakers thumping.

Karen finds Plankton
in his lab, his
eye glued to a
book. She knows
that look, it's his way
of hyperfixating. She
approaches carefully.

"Plankton?" she says
gently.
He jumps a little,
his hands fidgeting
with the pipettes.
"Chip's home," she
continues, watching
his eye flicker to
the doorway, then
back to the beakers.

Chip's
footsteps echo down
the hall, and
suddenly, he's there,
his body
crashing into his
father's in a tight,
unexpected hug.

Plankton's arms
hang at his sides.

"I missed you," Chip
whispers into
his father's chest. 

Plankton's body tenses,
his mind racing with
unexpected sensory input.
He tries to focus
on his breath, to
slow it down, but
it's like trying to
swim through
a tornado of stimuli.

Karen gently pries
Chip away, leading
them both to the
living room.

"Is everything ok,
Dad?" Chip asks, his
face scrunched in
concern. Plankton
follows them, his
movements mechanical.

"Just... working
on something
important," Plankton
mutters, his eye
dodging Chip's gaze.
"I'm fine.."

Chip senses the
distance, the
walls Plankton's put
up around himself.
He's seen it before,
but it still stings.
What Chip doesn't
know is that his dad's
autistic.

Plankton fidgets,
avoiding his
son's gaze. "What's
going on?" Chip
asks. 

"Dad's just a
little stressed with
work." But Chip's
not buying it. He
notices the way
his father's fingers
tap a staccato rhythm.

Chip tries
to hug Plankton again,
his arms reaching out
like a lifeline. Plankton
flinches, the touch
sending a jolt of
discomfort through
his body. He can't help it;
his senses are already
overwhelmed.

"Chip, please,"
Plankton says, voice
sharp as a tack.

Chip turns to his
father.

"What's wrong, Dad?"
he asks again,
his voice small.

He can't find the
words to explain.
Instead, he does the
only thing he can think
of to relieve the tension:
he prys Chip's arms away,
his movements abrupt.

"Dad?" Chip's voice is
tiny, confused. 
Plankton's voice
booms through the room,
sharp and loud. "I said I'm
fine!!"
The echo of his words
hangs in the air, and
Chip shrinks back,
his arms falling to his
sides.

Karen sighs, knowing
it's time to explain.

"Chip," she starts,
"Your dad has something
that makes him..."

"I know,
I know," he interrupts,
his voice tinged with
frustration. "Dad's always
like this. Always lost in his
own world, never..."

"What do you mean 'always 
like this'?" Plankton
demands, the words
sharp and pointed.

Chip takes a step
back.
"It's just... you're
always so busy with
work," he stammers.
"I just... I want to
spend time with you."

Plankton's eye widens,
accusation stinging him.
He tries to find the words
to explain, to bridge
the gap between his
autistic brain and his
son's need for connection.
But his thoughts are a jumbled
mess of frustration and guilt.
He loves, but sometimes,
his condition makes it hard
to show it.

"I'm not 'always like this,'"
Plankton snaps, his voice
cracking like a whip.
"You don't understand!"
He slams his fist on the
table.

"I'm sorry," Chip murmurs, 
"I didn't mean..." 
But his words are
drowned out by the storm
of emotion raging within
his father.

"You think I choose this?"
He gestures wildly.
"I'm not 'always like this'!
You think it's easy?"

Karen's heart aches as she watches
the raw pain flash across Plankton's face.

Chip takes a tentative step forward.
"I just want to understand," he whispers.
He reaches out and gently places his
hand on Plankton's arm.
Plankton's rage doesn't abate,
his arm jerking away as if burned.
"You think you can just fix me
with a pat on the back and a sad puppy look?"
He spat out the words.
"I'm not something to be fixed,"
Plankton says, his voice low and
dangerous. His fist
slams into the table again.

Chip's hand retreats to his side. 
"I didn't say you
were," he manages to reply, his voice
shaking. "I just want to be with you."

"You don't
get it," he seethes, his voice rising.
"You can't just come in here and demand
I change for you!" His fists clench, and
the pipettes in his lab coat pockets
clink ominously.

"Dad I don't know what 
you're talking about.."
Chip's voice is a mere
whisper, his eyes brimming
with tears. Plankton's anger
doesn't waver. His body
shakes with the intensity
of his emotions, his face
a mask of fury and pain.

"You think you know me?"
Plankton's voice is like
thunder, his words a
torrent of accusation.
"You think you can just waltz
in here and tell me how to
feel, how to act?"

Chip takes a step back. 
"I just want to help,"
he says, his voice a barely
audible whisper.

Plankton's sarcasm is
bitter. "Oh, help,"
he mocks, his voice a
parody of sweetness. "You're
so helpful. You know what
help would be? Leaving me
alone!"

"But Dad," Chip starts.
"I don't know what I did
wrong."

Plankton's lashing out at Chip.
"Oh, you're just the picture
of innocence, aren't you?"
he says, his tone a toxic mix
of anger and patronizing.
"Coming in acting
like you know everything,
thinking you can just fix
me with a hug and a
sympathetic look."

Chip feels his cheeks burn.
"I'm sorry," he
whispers, his voice cracking.

"You're sorry?" Plankton
repeats, his voice dripping
with disdain. "You're sorry?
What good is sorry?!"

Chip shakes his head.

"You think I don't know
what you're thinking? That I
can't feel your pity?"
He scoffs, a cold, brittle sound.
"You think I don't know
when you look at me like that?"

Chip's meeting
his father's furious gaze. "I
don't..."

But Plankton cuts him off,
his voice a sneer. "Don't lie
to me. I can see it in your
screen. You think I'm some
thing to be
fixed, like one of your toys."

Chip feels like
being crushed by a heavy
weight, his chest tightening
with each of his father's
words. "That's not what I
meant," he stammers.

"You think it's easy
for me, don't you?" 
He sneers.
"You think I don't wish
I could just turn it off,
be 'normal' for you?"

"No, 
Dad, I... I just want
to understand. And,
turn what off?"

Plankton's eye narrows,
his jaw clenching. "You
don't get it, I can't
just turn off who I am.
I'm not some broken toy!"

"I just want to be with you,"
he repeats, his voice
shaking. "I don't care
if you're not... like other
dads or whatever you're
saying.."

Plankton's anger doesn't
abate, his body stiff as
a board. "You think that's
it?" he sneers. "You think
it's just a matter of me
snapping out of it?"

"I don't know,
Dad," he admits, his voice
breaking. "I just... I want
to spend time with you."

Plankton's face contorts
further, his frustration
boiling over. "You think
that's all it takes?" he
shouts. "You want
quality time?" His voice
cracks.

Chip nods, 
desperate for a
connection. "Yes," 
he whispers.

"Quality time," Plankton repeats, his
voice dripping with scorn. "You think
that's all I need, a little 'quality
time' and everything will be fine?
You have no idea what I go through
every day just to pretend to be like
them, for you, for your mother!"

Chip's in shock. He's
never seen his father like this,
so raw and exposed. The room
seems to pulse with Plankton's anger,
each beat a reminder of the distance
between them. "I don't know," Chip says,
his voice barely above a whisper.

"You don't know," Plankton mimics,
his voice dripping with contempt.
"You think it's just a matter of
trying harder, don't you? Like it's
a switch I can just flip?" He starts to
pace the room, his footsteps heavy
and punctuated by his frustration.
"You think I enjoy your pity
parties?"

"Dad, I..." he
whispers, but his voice is lost
in the tempest. "You think
you know what it's like to
be me?" he snarls. "You have
no idea. You're just a child,
playing at being an adult with
your little 'I want to understand'
nonsense."

Karen can't take it anymore.
With a gentle but firm voice,
she steps between them. "Plankton,"
she says, her tone a warning.
"That's enough."

Plankton's rant falters,
his eye meeting hers. For a
moment, he seems lost,
his anger flickering out like a
candle in a gust of wind.




"You don't know what it's like,"
he repeats softer,
anger morphing into a
deep sadness that seeps into
the fabric of the room.

Chip looks up, his screen
glistening with unshed tears.
"Tell me," he pleads. "Help me
understand."

Karen's gaze softens,
and sighs heavily. "Your
dad has something called
Autism," she says gently. "It's like
his brain is wired differently.
It's not good or bad, it just
makes things harder for him
sometimes."

Chip looks up, his
face a canvas of confusion.
"Does that mean he can't love me?"
he asks, the fear in his voice
like a knife.

Karen kneels beside him,
taking his small hand in hers.
"No, baby," she says softly. "It means
his love might look different.
He feels it just as much, but shows
it in his own way."

Plankton stands there, his
body rigid, his eye darting
between Karen and Chip.
"I don't know how to do this,"
he says finally, his voice
cracking with emotion. "I don't
know how to be what you want."

"What do you mean?" he asks,
his voice trembling.

Plankton's eye narrows,
his voice like shards
of ice. "This," he says,
gesturing to his head.
"This... thing inside me
that makes everything
so hard." His hand
gestures to his forehead
as if to punctuate his words.
"This autism!"

Chip looks up with confusion
and a touch of fear. "But
Dad," he says softly, "I don't
see it like that. I don't even
know what Autism is!"

Karen's gaze flickers to
Plankton, who stands
motionless, his jaw clenched.
"It's ok," she reassures her
son. "It's not something
you can see, Chip. It's just
how Daddy's brain works."

new when the chip falls Chip Plankton II Karen/Chip Plankton II Sheldon J. Plankton & Chip Plankton II i

WHEN THE CHIP FALLS ii/ii

(Autistic author)


Karen takes a deep breath,
preparing to explain. "You know
how sometimes, when somethings
made, things don't always
develop as planned?"
she starts, her eyes never
leaving Chip's. "Well, Daddy's
brain is like that. It's just
how he was born."

Plankton's shoulders slump,
anger dissipating into
a heavy sadness. He looks
at his son, his heart aching.
"It's hard for me to express
how I feel," he says. "But
that doesn't mean I don't feel it."

Chip stares up at his
father.
"But why can't you just tell me?"
he asks, trembling.
"Why can't you just be like...
normal dads?"

The word "normal" hangs in the air
and Plankton feels
his rage reignite.

"Don't you dare," he growls, his
eye flashing with anger. "Don't
you ever say that again."

Chip takes a step back, his body
shaking. "What did I say?"
he whispers.

But Plankton doesn't
answer. He turns away,
his movements stiff and
jerking, as if he's fighting
against invisible chains.
Without a word, he storms
out of the living room.
The bedroom door slams
shut with a finality that
echoes through the house.

Karen's gaze follows him,
her heart heavy. Then she
looks back at Chip, her eyes
filled with a mix of love
and disappointment. "Chip,"
she says firmly. "You can't
just... expect him to change
like that."

Chip's eyes fill with
understanding, his body
slumping. "I didn't mean
to..." he starts, his voice
trailing off. "But I just
want to spend time with
him," he says, his voice
small and defeated.

Karen sighs, her gaze
softening as she looks at
her son. "I know, sweetie,"
she says, her voice gentle.
"But using the word 'normal'
doesn't help. It makes
Daddy feel like something's
wrong with him, like he's
not good enough."

Chip's eyes widen, realizing
his mistake. "I didn't mean it
like that," he stammers, his
cheeks flushing with
embarrassment. "I just want
us to be happy together."

Karen nods solemnly, her
eyes holding his. "I know
you do," she says, her voice
gentle. "But words can hurt,
especially when we don't
understand the full weight
they carry. Your father's
not 'normal' in the way you
think, but that doesn't mean
his love for you is any less."

Chip bites his lip, his eyes
glued to the floor. He feels
a pang of guilt, knowing
he's hurt his dad.

With a heavy sigh, Karen
stands up. "Let's go talk to
your father," she says,
placing a comforting hand
on Chip's shoulder. They
walk down the hallway
to Plankton's bedroom.

The door is ajar, and
through the crack, Karen
can see Plankton's hunched
form on the bed, his face
buried in his hands. His
shoulders shake with silent
sobs. Her heart aches for
his pain.

With Chip in tow, she
pushes the door open. Plankton
doesn't look up, his body
wrapped in a cocoon of
self-loathing. The room is
a mess of discarded lab
equipment and half-finished
experiments, a visual representation
of his tumultuous thoughts.

"Plankton," Karen says softly,
her voice a lifeline thrown
into the sea of his despair.

He doesn't move, his
body rigid with the weight
of his own emotions.

Chip takes a tentative step
forward, his hand reaching
out to touch his father's
shoulder. "Dad?" he whispers.

Plankton's body jolts,
his sobs growing louder.
Karen's heart clenches at the
sound, knowing the depth
of his pain.

"Dad?" Chip's voice is
tiny, his hand hovering
over his father's back.
He's never seen
his dad like this,
so vulnerable and broken.

Plankton's sobs
fill the room, each one
a shard of pain that
penetrates Karen's soul.
Her heart breaks
for her husband, for
the struggle she knows
he faces every day.

Chip's hand shakes
as he touches Plankton's
shoulder, his voice a
tiny thread of hope
woven through the
storm of emotions.
"Dad, I'm sorry," he says,
his voice barely a whisper.

Plankton's sobs
intensify, his body
wracking with the weight
of his sorrow. Karen
moves to the bed, sitting
down beside him, her
hand on his back. "It's
okay," she whispers, her
voice a gentle breeze in the
storm of his grief.

But Plankton is
beyond consolation. His
sobs are like waves,
crashing against the
shore of his pride,
eroding the barriers he's
built up over the years.
He can't speak, can't
even look at his son.

Chip's touch is
a soft whisper in
the hurricane of
his father's pain, but
it's enough to make
Plankton's shoulders
shake even harder.
The weight of his
emotions is too much,
his body unable to
contain the torrent.

Karen wraps her
arms around him,
trying to soothe the
storm within. She
knows the feeling
all too well, having
been his anchor through
so many of these
moments. Plankton's
sobs are like a language
only she can understand.

Chip watches, feeling
helpless, his hand
still hovering over
his father's back. He's
seen his dad upset before,
but never like this. It's
like looking into the
eye of a hurricane and
wishing you could stop
it from spinning.

"Daddy," Chip says
again, his voice
tiny, hopeful. Plankton's
body tenses under
his touch, and for a
moment, it seems like
the storm might abate.

But the sobs only
get louder, the tremors
more violent. Karen's
heart breaks as she sees
the hurt in her son's eyes.
"Let's give him some
space, okay?" she says
gently, her hand on
Chip's shoulder.
"Go wait, I'll take
care of him."

With a nod, Chip retreats,
his eyes never leaving
his father's bent form.
Once he's gone, Karen
wraps her arms around
Plankton, holding him
tightly as he cries.

"Shh," she whispers,
stroking his back in soothing
circles. "It's okay. I'm
here." Her voice is a
lullaby in the tempest
of his emotions, a beacon
of calm in the chaos.

Slowly, Plankton's sobs
begin to subside, his
body unclenching from its
self-imposed prison. He
lifts his face, eye red
and wet with tears.

"I just want..." he whispers,
his voice raw with pain.

Karen's eyes well up with
tears, her heart aching for
his suffering. "You are
normal, Plankton," she says
softly. "You're just different."

Plankton's body quakes, his
sobs subsiding into hiccups.
"But Chip..." he chokes out.
"He thinks... he thinks..."

Karen's grip tightens,
her voice firm and loving.
"Chip's young," she says.
"He doesn't understand
yet. But we'll teach him."

Plankton's sobs slowly
ease, his breaths coming
less ragged. He nods, his
body still tense. "I know,"
he says, his voice a whisper.
"But it hurts."

Karen pulls him closer,
aching for his
pain. She kisses
his cheek, her touch
gentle the way she knows
he likes it.

"You're a good dad,"
she whispers, her voice
the calm after the storm.
"You show
Chip that you're here for him,
in your own way."

Plankton's eye meets hers,
his gaze searching for truth
in her words. He nods
slowly, his shoulders
slumping as he takes a deep,
shuddering breath. "Thank
you," he whispers, his voice
still thick with emotion.

Karen nods, her heart
full of love and sorrow.
"Let's go talk to Chip,"
she says gently, standing up.

Plankton wipes his eye,
his body still trembling.
He nods, following her out
of the room, each step
a monumental effort.

In the hallway, Chip is
sitting on the floor, his
back against the wall.
He looks up as they approach,
his eyes red and swollen.
"Dad," he says, his voice
cracking with emotion.

Plankton's steps falter,
his heart in his throat. He
forces himself to meet his
son's gaze, the weight of
his guilt a heavy burden.
"I'm sorry," Chip says,
his voice shaky.

The words are a balm
to Plankton's soul, his
anger and pain receding
like a retreating tide.

He looks at Chip, his
eye swollen with
unshed tears, his heart
heavy with regret.
"I didn't mean to... I just..."

Chip's eyes are red,
his cheeks stained with
tears. "Dad, I'm sorry,"
he whispers, his voice
a mere thread of sound.

Plankton's heart clenches
at the sight of his son's
pain. He sits down next
to Chip, his movements
slow and deliberate, not
wanting to startle him. "It's
okay," he says, his voice
shaky. "I shouldn't have
snapped at you. I'm not..."

Chip looks up, his eyes
swimming with tears. "You're
not what?" he asks, his
voice hopeful.

Plankton sighs, trying
to find the words. "I'm
not like other dads," he
admits, his voice barely
above a whisper. "But that
doesn't mean I don't l-love
you, or that I don't want
to be with you."
Plankton's gaze drops to
his son's small, trembling
hand. "It's hard," he says,
his voice tight with emotion.
"I... I don't always know
how to make you feel
what's inside."

Chip looks up at him, his
eyes searching. "What's
inside?" he asks, his voice
tiny.

Plankton's gaze meets
his son's, and he sees the
flicker of hope. "Love," he
says finally, his voice
cracking. "It's just... different."

Chip's eyes widen with
understanding, the fear
fading from his eyes. "Can you
show me?" he asks, his voice
small but steady.

Plankton nods, his body
still tense with emotion. He
thinks for a moment, trying to
find a way to bridge the gap
between his love and his
inability to express it. "Look,"
he says, pointing to a jar
on the shelf. "I only like certain
touches from certain people.
But I'm the one who recommended
we get that ice cream yesterday, right?"

Chip nods, his eyes
glistening with hope. "Yeah, you
always know the perfect flavor."

Plankton's smile is
forced, but it's a start. He takes
a deep, shaky breath. "And remember
when you had that science fair
project, and I helped you?"

Chip nods, his eyes
lit with memory. "You stayed
up all night, making sure I got
it just right."

Plankton's smile is a little
more genuine this time. "I did
that because I care about you.
I want you to be happy, even if I
can't show it like everyone else."

He reaches out tentatively,
his hand hovering near Chip's.
For a moment, it seems like
he might withdraw again,
like a snail retreating into
its shell at the first sign of
danger. But then, with a
deep breath, he touches
his son's shoulder, his
fingers light and unsure.

Plankton's hand trembles,
his touch as gentle as a
feather landing on Chip's shoulder
before retreating.
"Normal is over
rated," he whispers, the word
a promise. "But I do, in my own way."

new when the chip falls Chip Plankton II Karen/Chip Plankton II Sheldon J. Plankton & Chip Plankton II ii

Dr. McDermott's dental 
office. Plankton had 
been in surgery for wisdom teeth.

The  receptionist, a young woman 
named "Samantha," was going up to Karen.

"Your husband is 
to be taken to the recovery," 
she said, her voice gentle and 
soothing.
Karen nodded. 
Samantha led her down. Plankton 
was laid out on a narrow bed, his 
mouth open slightly.

"He's still under," 
Samantha whispered, "but going 
to start bringing him out of it now.
Waking is a gradual process so.."

Karen nodded. She watched as a 
nurse approached,
deftly adjusting tubes and 
machines connected to him.
The nurse flicked a switch and 
began to decrease the flow.

The anesthesia 
diminished. Plankton's chest 
continued to rise and fall rhythmically,
his eye remained closed. Karen 
reached out and took his hand, her 
thumb brushing against his. She 
squeezed gently, hoping it might 
provide some comfort, or at least 
a thread of familiarity, as he began
his journey back to consciousness.

A few moments later, Plankton's hand 
twitched ever so slightly in response.

"It's ok honey," she whispered, 
though she knew he couldn't hear.
A nurse, named Margaret, offered 
an assuring smile. "It's normal for 
it to take time. Just keep talking 
to him, it'll help."

Karen leaned closer, her voice 
barely above a murmur. "Remember 
our first date?" she began. 
Plankton's snore was the only response.

"Don't worry, he'll come around soon.
Anesthesia can take a while to wear off.
And when he does, he'll be groggy. 
It's like waking up from a deep sleep."

Her thoughts drifted to Plankton's 
snoring, a comforting sound. She 
squeezed his hand again, trying to 
will him to wake with her touch.

Then, to her surprise, she heard a murmur. 
"Mm, chum... so... much... chum..."

The nurse, Margaret, gave her a knowing 
look. "It's common for patients to 
talk in their sleep as they come out of 
it. Sometimes they say the 
darndest things."

Karen smiles. "Chum?" she repeated, 
"Is that what you're dreaming about?"

"Needff... chum..."

"You're ok," 
she whispered, her voice filled with 
relief. "You're just dreaming, sweetie."

"Chum... I... I nee to... get ith," he 
slurred. Karen's smile grew, 
his nonsensical words bringing a 
small spark of comfort.

"You're dreaming about work," 
she said, stroking his forehead 
with the back of her hand. 

The nurse, Margaret, checked the 
monitors and nodded. "His vitals 
look good. He'll be fine," she assured.

"Remember the first time you made 
me a Patty?" she 
asked, her voice soothing. Plankton's 
grip on her hand tightened slightly, 
his chest rising and falling with 
even breaths.

"Ith... Ith was’at..." he mumbled. 
It wasn't often she heard him express
his feelings so openly, especially not about 
her. 

"What was it, honey?" she prompted, 
a soft smile playing on her lips. 
"Youw... youwre the... the besht... the... besht..."
his voice trailed off again into snores.
Karen chuckled
with affection. It was clear he was 
talking about her, despite the 
garbled speech. She leaned in 
closer. "I'm right here," she whispered.

Plankton's sleep-talk grew, 
his grip on her hand tightening. "Pro-tec... 
the secret... chum... fwom... Plankton..."

"You're safe," she said, her voice 
a soothing whisper. "You don't have to 
worry about the recipe now."

Plankton's slurred words 
continued. "Fwom... Plankton... ith...
ith... my... my... hearth..." It was 
almost as if he was speaking to it, 
whispering sweet nothings in his sleep.

"Your... your heart?" she repeated 
uncertainly, trying to make sense of 
his words. Plankton's chest rose and 
fell in a slow, steady rhythm, his hand 
still clutching hers tightly.
A faint 
moan escaped Plankton's lips, and 
his eye began to flutter open. His 
eye searched the room, unfocused
and glazed. He blinked 
slowly, a look of confusion 
spreading across his face. The nurse 
stood by, monitoring, 
ready to intervene if needed.

"Karen?" he croaked, his voice 
slurred from the anesthesia. She 
squeezed his hand tighter and leaned in, 
her voice as gentle as a lullaby. 
"Hi, sweetie. It's all over now. You're 
in the recovery room."

Plankton's eye searched hers, 
still clouded with sleep. "Wha... wha' 
happen'd?" he managed to ask.

"You had your wisdom teeth removed," 
Karen said softly. "You're ok now."

Plankton's eye grew clearer as 
his mind slowly surfaced from the 
depths of unconsciousness. He blinked 
again, looking around the room. 
"Why... why awe youw smiling?"

"You were talking in your sleep," 
she said, trying to keep the 
amusement out of her voice. "It was 
just sweet."

Plankton's eye searched hers. 
"Wha'did I shay?"

"You said a lot of 
things," she replied, her smile 
lingering. "But the most important 
part was that you said I was the best."

The corner of Plankton's mouth 
twitched into a weak smile. "Yeah?" 
he murmured, his voice still 
slurred. "Well, thath's twue."

With Margaret's help, Karen managed 
to get Plankton into a more 
upright position. His head lolled 
slightly before he found his 
bearings, blinking rapidly to clear 
his vision.

"How do you feel?" Karen 
asked, her voice full of concern.

"Woozy," Plankton mumbled.

With Margaret's guidance, Karen helped 
Plankton to stand, his legs wobbly. He leaned heavily 
on her, the anesthesia still clouding 
his movements. She felt his weight 
and knew that he would need her support 
to navigate the short walk to the car.

"Let's go slow," she said, her voice 
steady and calm. Plankton nodded, 
his eye still half-lidded with sleep.
They shuffled along the hallway, 
each step a victory over his grogginess. 

As they approached the door 
leading to the parking lot, Plankton 
swayed. Karen tightened her 
grip, for his head lolled 
to the side, and she caught him.

"Whoa, honey," she said.

Plankton's legs buckled slightly, and 
his head dropped to her shoulder, 
his weight pressing against her. Karen 
steadied him, her arms wrapping around 
to keep him upright. His breathing 
was deep and even, eye fighting to stay open.

"You can't sleep now," she said, 
trying to keep the laughter from her 
voice. "We're not even home yet."

With Margaret's help, they made 
their way to the car, Karen's arm 
supporting Plankton's weight.

"Let's get you buckled in," she said, 
guiding him to the passenger seat.
Plankton complied, his movements 
still sluggish and uncoordinated.

With a gentle push, Karen secured 
the seatbelt across his chest. His 
head lolled back against the headrest, 
and for a moment, she thought 
he might fall back asleep, but 
managed to keep his eye open as she
starts the engine.

As she pulled out of the parking 
lot, Plankton's eye drifted shut. "We're 
almost home." Karen says as Plankton's head 
lolled back against the 
headrest. She took a hand off the 
wheel to pat his leg reassuringly. 
"You can sleep when we get there."
Yet Plankton's snores filled the 
car, punctuating the silence. Karen 
couldn't help but look over at him, 
his face relaxed and peaceful in 
sleep.

"Wake up, sweetie," Karen 
whispered, gently shaking Plankton. 
He stirred, his eye blinking open with 
difficulty. "We're home," she 
said.

Plankton groaned. "Careful," 
she warned.

They shuffled inside, Karen guiding him. The 
smell of home hit them, a mix of 
saltwater and the faint scent of 
cooking from the restaurant next door.

"Come on, honey," she said, 
half-guiding, half-carrying him 
to their bedroom. Karen 
helped him lie downs. 
He let out a deep sigh.

"Thathks," he murmured, 
his voice barely audible.

Karen settled Plankton into bed, 
his head resting on the soft pillows, his body 
limp and heavy with the weight 
of the anesthesia. She took his other 
hand and squeezed gently.

As they lay there, she noticed a 
small pool of drool forming at 
the corner of his mouth.

Karen couldn't help but 
laugh softly, the tension of the 
day dissipating. She reached for a 
tissue from the bedside table and 
gently wiped the drool away. Plankton 
snuffled, his eye shooting open for a 
moment before closing again.

"Don't worry," she whispered, 
stroking his forehead. "You're safe.
You can go back to sleep now."

Plankton's head lolled to the 
side, and drool grew more insistent, 
a silent testament to his deep slumber.
Karen grabbed another tissue, 
wiping the saliva that trickled 
down his chin, his snores rumbling.

With each tissue, the intimacy grew, 
the act of caring for him in this vulnerable 
state somehow endearing. She felt a tenderness 
for him that was usually overshadowed 
by their daily squabbles and the relentless 
pursuit of the Krabby Patty's secret recipe.

As Plankton's snores grew softer, 
his grip on her hand loosened. Karen 
gently pulled her hand free and covered 
him with the blanket. She took a moment 
to gaze at his peaceful face. It was 
a side of him she rarely saw, and she 
found it surprisingly comforting.

She leaned 
over and kissed him softly on the 
forehead, whispering, "I love you, 
even when you're drooling."

Karen knew Plankton would be out 
for hours, so she decided to use the 
time to prepare a light meal for when 
he woke. She moved quietly to the 
kitchen, not wanting to disturb him. 
She rummaged, looking for something 
soft that wouldn't irritate his 
sore mouth.

In the fridge, she found a bowl 
of Plankton's favorite jellyfish jello, 
a treat she had made the night before 
knowing he wouldn't be able to eat 
much solid food. Then, she pulled out a 
loaf of bread and a jar of jelly, 
carefully making a few soft, 
fluffy sandwiches that she hoped 
would be easy for him to chew.

Next, she grabbed a few of Plankton's 
favorite books from the living 
room. She placed 
them on the bedside table, along with 
a glass of water, within arm's reach.
She took a deep 
breath, feeling a sense of peace 
settle over her as she listened to 
his rhythmic snores. Despite the 
stress of the day, she was grateful 
for the quiet moments like these.

new plaren AI Story Generator wisdom tooth

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."

new a life of diversity AI Story Generator neurodivergentcore karen plankton plaren plabsen braincore headcore i

NOTHING BUT THE WISDOM TRUTH vi

"I... I just want to make sure he's ok," Krabs said.

"He's not in a good place right now," Karen admitted. 

 "Tell him... I didn't mean to embarrass him, that I'm sorry for... everything."

"I'll let him know," she said.

Heading into the bedroom she found Plankton fast asleep, his face a picture of peace amidst the chaos of his mind, a stark contrast to the turmoil she knew was churning within him. She knew waking him would only stir up more pain and anger, so she decided to let him rest.

Karen sat on the edge of the bed, watching him sleep. His chest rose and fell with each breath, the gentle snores a soothing soundtrack to the quiet room. She reached out to brush his antennae, with love and concern.

Karen knew this wisdom teeth extraction had taken a toll on him, but she had no idea the depth of his embarrassment til she saw the photo.

The next morning, Plankton woke to Karen's gentle humming. The stiffness in his jaw had subsided to a dull throb. As he sat up, the events of the previous day crashed down on him like a tidal wave.

Karen turned, her smile fading as she took in his expression. "You're up," she said tentatively.

Plankton nodded, jaw still aching.
"Krabs called," Karen said, breaking the silence.

Plankton's eye snapped to hers, his body tensing. "What."

Karen took a deep breath, trying to keep her voice calm. "He said he's sorry for everything," she replied, her voice measured. "And that he didn't mean to embarrass you."

Plankton stared at her, his jaw clenched.

Karen understood the depth of his pain. "Maybe it wasn't about embarrassment," she suggested gently. "Maybe he was just trying to help."

Plankton snorted, but the anger in his eye was fading, replaced by something closer to defeat. "Help." he repeated. "From Krabs!"

Karen nodded. "He seemed genuinely concerned," she said. "And he did bring over those jellyfish for you."

Plankton's skeptical, but didn't argue. Mr. Krabs wasn't exactly known for warm and fuzzy moments. But the idea that he had shown any care was unsettling. He always seen Krabs as the epitome of greed and self-interest, this newer side as unwelcome as the pain in his mouth.

But as the day wore on, Plankton couldn't shake the feeling there's more to the story. Despite pride, he was curious about what happened between them. He knew he had to confront Krabs to set things straight, to regain some semblance of control over.

So, when Mr. Krabs appeared at the chum bucket door, unannounced and looking unusually nervous, Plankton's curiosity won over. He begrudgingly let him in, posture stiff.

Mr. Krabs fidgeted, his claws twitching as he looked around the cluttered room. "Plankton," he began, his voice tentative. "I know I've not always been the... the most sensitive crab in the sea, but I never meant to cause ye distress."

Plankton's eye narrowed. "What do you want?" he demanded, his voice gruff.

Mr. Krabs took a deep breath, his claws fidgeting. "I just... I wanted to apologize," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "For the photo. For... everything."

Plankton's eye never left Mr. Krabs' face. "You had no right," he said, his voice cold.

Mr. Krabs swallowed. "I know," he admits. "But I didn't mean for it to go viral. Pearl... she's young, she doesn't understand the implications." Mr. Krabs shifted uncomfortably. "I don't expect anything," he said. "But I want to explain. You were in a lot of pain, and I just... I just wanted to help."

Plankton's expression unyielding. "And what exactly?"

Mr. Krabs took a step back, his eyes flickering with uncertainty. "Well, you were delirious," he began. "You talked a bit, but it was mostly nonsense."

Plankton wasn't satisfied. "I want details?"

Mr. Krabs sighed heavily, his shoulders dropping. "You talked about the good ol' days," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "And how, despite our rivalry, we've always had a... a sort of respect for each other."

Plankton felt a flicker of something in his chest, but pushed it aside. "Respect?" he sneered. "You expect me to believe that?"

Mr. Krabs nodded, his eyes earnest. "It's the truth," he said. "You talked about how we've been through a lot together, even though we're enemies."

Plankton felt his anger dissipate with a strange curiosity. "Why?" he asked, his voice softer. "Why would I?"

Mr. Krabs shrugged uncomfortably. "I don't know," he admitted. "Maybe anesthesia brought out some hidden feelings?"

Plankton's antennae quivered with irritation. "Hidden feelings!" he echoed. "You're telling me I have feelings for you?"

Mr. Krabs' face flushed a deep red. "No, no, no!" he sputtered, holding up his claws defensively. "It's just... you were out of it, Plankton, unable to know what you were saying."

But Plankton wasn't letting it go. "I need to know," he insisted, his voice low and intense. "What did I say to you?"

Mr. Krabs squirmed, his eyes darting around the room. "It's... it's nothing, really," he stammered. "Just random, incoherent babble."

But Plankton's gaze was unyielding. "Tell me," he demanded.

Mr. Krabs took a deep breath, eyes downcast. "You called me your... your best friend," he murmured. "And you said you admire me."

Plankton's eye bulged, his antennae standing straight up. "Admired you?" he echoed, his voice incredulous.

Mr. Krabs nodded, his cheeks burning. "Yes," he said, his voice barely audible. "But it was just the medication, I'm sure."

Plankton's mind reeled at the revelation. Best friend? Admired? Inconceivable. He had spent his life plotting against Mr. Krabs, trying to steal the Krabby Patty secret, and here he was, confessing his admiration and friendship? A nightmare.

"Why would I?" he croaked, his voice a mix of disbelief and anger.

Mr. Krabs shuffled his feet. "I told ya," he repeated. "You were out of it, babbling about all sorts of things."

But Plankton's mind was racing, trying to piece together the puzzle of his subconscious. "What else did I do?" he pressed, his voice tight.

Mr. Krabs fidgeted, his eyes darting around the room. "You... you also thanked me," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "For being here."

Plankton's jaw dropped, his arms flailing. "Thanked you?" he echoed, his voice filled with disbelief. "What, exactly?"

Mr. Krabs squirmed, his eyes darting around the room. "You said I was a... friend," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "And that you were grateful for my help."

Plankton quivered with rage. "Grateful?" he spat, his voice filled with revulsion. "To you?"

Mr. Krabs looked down at his claws, his eyes pleading. "I know it's hard to believe," he said. "But you were in a lot of pain, and the medication can do funny things."

Plankton's mind raced, trying to process this new information. He had always seen Mr. Krabs as the epitome of everything he despised: greedy, selfish, and always one step ahead in their eternal dance for the Krabby Patty secret. But here he was, describing a moment Plankton couldn't even remember.

"What else?" Plankton demanded, his voice low and dangerous. "What other humiliating things?"

Mr. Krabs took a deep breath, his eyes flicking up to meet Plankton's. "Well, you dozed off during my story," he admitted, his voice trembling slightly. "You leaned against me, and before I knew it, you were out cold."

Plankton's tentacles stilled, his mind racing with the absurdity of the situation. "Story time?" he echoed, his voice laced with disbelief. "I fell asleep on your shoulder?"

Mr. Krabs nodded, his face a picture of awkwardness. "It was quite... unexpected," he said, his eyes darting around the room. "But you seemed to enjoy it."

Plankton stared at him, his mind reeling. "What was the story?" he asked, his voice a hoarse whisper.

Mr. Krabs' cheeks turned an even deeper shade of red. "It was about... You, per your request."

Plankton's eye widened.

Mr. Krabs nodded, turning a shade of red that matched his shell. "Yeah," he said, his voice small. "You said you liked the sound of my voice. It's the anesthesia," he said, his voice gentle. "It can do funny things to a body, make 'em say and do things they wouldn't normally."

Plankton tightened around the ice pack, his mind racing. He had always seen Mr. Krabs as his sworn enemy, the one who stood between him and the Krabby Patty secret. But here was Krabs, describing a moment of intimacy that was as far from their usual interactions as the moon was from the ocean floor.

Mr. Krabs cleared his throat, in discomfort. "It's alright, Plankton," he said, his voice gruff. "It's not something anyone needs to know about."

But Plankton was insistent, his curiosity piqued. "I need to know," he said, his voice a mix of anger and desperation. "How did it happen?"

Mr. Krabs sighed, eyes dropping to the floor. "Well," he began, his voice halting. "You seemed to get tired," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Your eye closed, and your head just... kind of fell onto my shoulder."

Plankton's antennae twitched with discomfort, his cheeks burning. "And?" 
 "Well, you were in pain," he said, his voice gruff. "I didn't want to disturb you
."

Karen watched the exchange from the doorway. She knew Plankton was tough, but this was a side of him she had never seen before. Vulnerable and exposed.

"Mr. Krabs," she said, her voice firm but gentle. "Thank you for coming over."

Mr. Krabs looked up, his eyes darting to her before returning to Plankton. "It's no trouble, Karen," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I just wanted to make sure he's okay."

Karen nodded, her gaze never leaving Plankton's face. "I think we can handle it from here," she said, her tone firm but not unkind.

Mr. Krabs' eyes darted between the two of them, fidgeting. "If... if there's anything I can do," he offered, his voice trailing off.

Karen gave a small smile filled with gratitude. "I think we got it from here," she said. "But thank you for caring."

new AI Story Generator plabsen nothing but the wisdom truth

CHIP AND FAIL vii
(Autistic author)

Plankton's body tensed, his
eye squeezing shut as he tried to
block out the onslaught of
sensations. "Chip," he murmured,
his voice strained, "I can't."
"What do you mean?"
He didn't know his touch, his
words, his very presence was a
storm in Plankton's mind. He
just wanted to share his week,
his joy, with his dad.

Plankton took a deep, shaky
breath, his antennae twitching.
"I have... I have something
that makes it hard for me to...
to handle..."

But Chip's excitement was unable to
comprehend the distress he was
causing. "Handle what, Dad?" he
asked, his voice filled with
eagerness. "You can tell me anything!"

Plankton's antennae twitched,
his eye flickering with pain.
He knew he had to find the
words, to explain the storm
that raged in his mind, his 
voice trembling. "I
can't... I just..."

Chip's eyes searched his
father's, his hands reaching out
again. 
But Plankton was already
slipping away, his mind a tornado of
sensations. He couldn't find the
words, the storm too loud.

Chip, oblivious to the turmoil,
pressed on. "Dad, you can tell me
anything," he said, his voice
bubbling over with eagerness. His
hands reached out again, his touch
like a lightning bolt in Plankton's
overstimulated world.

Plankton's antennae quivered
with the effort of maintaining
his composure. He didn't know
how to explain the maelstrom
that was his mind, the way each
touch and sound felt like a
thunderclap. "Chip," he began again,
his voice strained, "I'm..."

But Chip was a hurricane,
his enthusiasm unyielding. "Is it
because of the college?" he
asked, his screen sparkling. "Or
Nutmeg?" He didn't realize that
his words, his touch, were the
fuel for the storm.

Plankton's eye searched
his son's, desperate for a
moment of calm. "Chip, no,
it's not about..." His voice
was a whisper, lost in the wind
of his son's excitement.

But Chip didn't hear the
desperation, his mind a kaleidoscope
of thoughts and memories.
He didn't see the pain he was
causing, only his own need
for connection. "But Dad,
I just wanted to..."

Plankton's antennae shot up,
his body tensing like a bowstring.
"Chip," he said, his voice
a whipcrack of agony. "P-please."

But Chip was in his own
world, racing with
the excitement of his week. "Come
on, Dad," he said, his voice
filled with cheerful oblivion. "It's
so cool, you've gotta see it!"
He grabbed Plankton's hand, pulling
him to hard.

Plankton's body jerked, his
eye wide with pain. The sudden
contact was like a sledgehammer
to his overstimulated mind, his
thoughts scattering like leaves
in a storm. "Chip," he managed,
his voice strained, "please."

But Chip's excitement was a
freight train, barreling forward
without a care for the tracks.
He didn't see the agony etched
in Plankton's features, didn't feel
the tension in his father's
body. "Come on, Dad," he said,
his grip tightening. "It's going
to be amazing, I..."

Plankton's body spasmed at the
contact, his antennae vibrating
wildly. The room grew too bright,
the sounds too loud, the air too
thin. He couldn't move, couldn't
think. His mind was a cacophony
of sensations, a symphony of
overload. "Chip," he choked out,
his voice a plea. "I... I can't."

Chip's face fell, not realizing how
angry his dad's getting. "What do you..."

But Plankton was already
spiraling, his mind a tornado of
sensory assault. He didn't know
how to make Chip understand,
his voice a thunderclap of despair.
"I CAN'T!" he shouted, his antennae
waving erratically.

Chip's smile faltered, his eyes
wide with shock. He had never
seen his dad like this before,
his touch a match to a fuse. He
took a step back, his hands up in
surrender. "You mean, you won't!"
he asked, his voice shaking.

Plankton took a deep, shuddering
breath, his antennae drooping.
"Chip," he said, his voice tight with
frustration. "I can't. Not right
now. I need..."

But Chip's crashing over the delicate
barriers Plankton had built to
keep his world in order. "But Dad,
it's just a story!" he exclaimed,
his voice booming in the quiet
living room. "It's not a big deal,
you're just being..."

The room grew smaller, the walls
closing in on Plankton as Chip's
words echoed in his mind. Just a
story? To Chip, it was a simple
tale of adventure, but to Plankton,
it was a minefield of sensory input
his brain couldn't process. "Chip,
please," he murmured, his antennae
twitching wildly. "I'm trying..." "You're
not trying hard enough!" Chip said,
his voice filled with the kind of
innocent exasperation that only
a child can muster. "But if you're
trying to break our family, congratulations!
You..."

Plankton's antennae shot up,
his body rigid with tension. The
accusation hit him like a tidal
wave, threatening to drown him
under the weight of his own
failure. "Chip," he said, his voice
a desperate plea. "It's not..."

But Chip's screen filled
with accusation, his voice
loud in the suddenly too-small
room. "Why can't you just be
normal?" he demanded, his grip
on Plankton's hand tightening.

Plankton's antennae quivered,
his eye squeezed shut against
the assault. "I'm sorry," he
whispered, his voice breaking.
"I'm not... I'm not like other
dads."

"Well DUH! You just can't handle it,
can you?" Chip said, his voice
filled with frustration. He didn't
see the pain in Plankton's eye,
the way his antennae drooped with
each accusation. "But it's just a
story, Dad. It's not that..."

Plankton's antennae twitched,
his body trembling with the effort
to stay calm. "Chip, you don't
understand," he said, his voice
barely above a whisper. "My mind
is like a... a... "

Chip's eyes searched his
father's, his expression a mix
of confusion and anger. "What?
What's wrong with you? Let me
guess, you're just being dramatic
again," he said, his voice
harsher than he intended. Plankton
flinched at the accusation, his
antennas stiffening.

Karen watched from the
sidelines, aching. She knew
this moment was inevitable, but
seeing the pain was like a knife to her.
She took a deep breath,
steeling herself for the conversation
that needed to happen.

"Chip, sweetie," she began, her voice
soft and gentle, "Dad's not
being dramatic." She took a step
forward, placing a hand on her
son's shoulder, feeling the tension
beneath his skin. "Your dad has..."

"Mom, my 'dad' has no place 
in OUR family! Your life is a lie!"
Chip's words, fueled by confusion
and hurt, echoed through to
Plankton, his voice shaking.

Karen's hands shook as she reached
for Chip. "No, honey," she said,
her voice trembling, "it's not
that simple." But Chip was already
storming out of the room, his
footsteps like thunder in the quiet
hallway.

Plankton slumped back against
his chair, his antennae drooping.
He had hoped Chip would never
have to know, never have to feel
the way he did. The way his mind
was like a cluttered room, with no
way to organize the chaos. He
closed his eye, the weight of
his secret heavy on his shoulders.

new chip and fail Chip Plankton II Sheldon J. Plankton & Chip Plankton II Karen/Chip Plankton II vii

CHIP AND FAIL viii
(Autistic author)

Karen's hand was a lifeline,
her voice a gentle guide. "Chip,"
she called out.
"We need to talk."

Chip stopped in the hallway. 
Why was Dad acting so
weird? He turned to face his
mother, his eyes brimming with
unshed tears. "What's wrong with
him?" he demanded, his voice
filled with accusation. "He doesn't
deserve to be called my dad if
he can't even..."
But that's when it happens.
That's when Plankton started
hyperventilating, and that's
when Plankton can't take
anymore.
That's when it happened.
Chip's words were like a match
striking too close to a powder keg.
Plankton's breath hitched, his antennae
twitching erratically. Karen rushed to
his side, her screen wide with concern.
"Babe, you okay?" she asked, her voice
a gentle caress. She holds her arms
out to catch Plankton.

But Plankton's mind was a
whirlwind, his body a live wire.
He couldn't answer, couldn't find
the words to explain the chaos
that was his reality. His antennae
trembled as he struggled to
breathe, his body rigid with fear.
He had hoped to keep this
hidden, to protect Chip from the
truth, but it was too much.
The storm inside him grew
wilder, each breath a battle.

Chip's eyes searched his
father's, his own confusion
mirroring the chaos in the
room. "What's wrong with you?"
he repeated, his voice a mix of anger
and desperation.

But Plankton's mind was a tornado,
his thoughts swirling too fast
for words. He could feel his chest
constrict, his heart pounding
like a drum.

Karen watched her son's screen,
seeing the hurt in his eyes, the
misunderstanding etched
deep. She took a deep breath,
knowing the moment had arrived.
"Chip," she began, her voice
soft but firm, "there's something
you need to know about your dad."

Chip looked at her, his expression
a mix of anger and confusion. "What
could possibly make him act like
this?" he spat, poking Plankton hard. "Why
did you marry him? He's just nothing but..."

"Chip," Karen said firmly, taking his
hands in hers, when Plankton
starts to wheeze heavily, his body
constricting with each shallow breath.

Chip's anger faded, replaced with
fear as he watched his father's
distress. "Dad?" he whispered,
his voice shaking.

Plankton's body trembled as his
legs gave out, collapsing into the
embrace Karen had been ready to offer.

"Dad?" Chip's voice was barely
above a whisper, his eyes wide
with fear and confusion. He had
never seen his father so
overwhelmed, so vulnerable.

Karen knelt beside Plankton, her
hands gentle on his trembling
body. "It's okay, love," she
whispered, her voice a salve
on his raw nerves. "Just breathe."

Chip's eyes were glued to his
father with fear. He had never seen him
like this before, his body a
stranger's under his own touch.
"What's wrong with him?" he asked
again, his voice shaking.

Karen took a deep breath, her
hands trembling as she smoothed
back Plankton's antennae. "Chip, your
dad was born with something..."
Her voice trailed off, the words
stuck in her throat like a piece
of unchewed food.

Chip's eyes searched hers, his
confusion a storm cloud
gathering. "What do you mean?"
he asked, his voice small and
scared.

Karen took a deep breath, her
heart aching for both her son
and her husband. "Your dad," she
began, her voice shaking with
the weight of her words, "was born
different, Chip." Plankton's
eye flickered open, filled with a
mixture of fear and hope.

"What do you mean, 'different'?"
Chip asked, his voice small and
scared. He had never heard his
mother talk about his dad this
way before.

Karen took a deep breath,
swallowing the lump in her
throat. "When your dad was born,
Chip," she began, her screen
filled with a sadness that
threatened to spill over, "his brain
was injured during delivery. When
the doctors pulled him out, they
didn't realize how fragile he was
and they..." Her voice trailed off,
the memory too painful to
recount. "They had to get him out
and applied too much force on his
head, which caused some damage.
It gave him a type of condition, where
he's on what's called autism spectrum."

Chip's eyes widened, his grip on
his shirt tightening. "But that's
not his fault, right?" he asked, his
voice a hopeful whisper. He didn't
want to think of his dad as
damaged or broken.

Karen nodded, her screen filled
with love for both her husband and
her son. "No, honey, it's not his
fault," she said, her voice steady.
"It's just how he's. And
it's not something you can see or
touch. It's like having a radio in
your head that's always tuned to the
loudest station, and sometimes
the static gets too much."

new chip and fail Chip Plankton II Sheldon J. Plankton & Chip Plankton II Karen/Chip Plankton II viii

CHIP AND FAIL xi
(Autistic author)

Karen made chum for dinner and
they all sat at the table.

"Thanks," Plankton says to Karen
as she hands him his plate.
She sits down with her own
plate after serving Chip his.

"Hi, Dad," Chip said tentatively, 
his voice a whisper in the 
stillness of the room.

Plankton's antennae twitched, but
his eye remained fixed on his
plate. The silence was a wall
between them, thick as seaweed and
just as impenetrable. Chip's heart
felt like it was sinking into his
stomach, the weight of his father's
silence heavier than any words
could have been.

Karen's screen darted between them,
a silent plea for peace. She knew
this was Plankton's way of dealing
with his overwhelm, but it was
torture for Chip, who craved
understanding and connection.

"So, how's your friends?" Karen
asks Chip.

Chip shrugs, his screen
darting to Plankton, who remains
silent, his antennae still. "They're
okay," he says, his voice
lacking its usual enthusiasm.

Karen sighs internally, the
tension at the dinner table
a heavy fog that seemed to
smother their usual banter. 

"Karen, can you pass the napkins?"
Plankton says. "Sure," she says
as she puts them in the middle.

"Dad, how do you feel about
the food?"

Plankton's antennae twitched but
his gaze remained on his plate,
his mouth a tight line. The silence
was a thick stew that no one knew
how to digest. Chip's eyes were
filled with hope, searching for
any sign of his father's usual
playfulness, but all he found
was a wall of quiet.

Chip's voice was a feeble
ripple in the vast ocean of their
silence. "Dad, can I get you a drink?"
he offered.

Plankton's antennae twitched
slightly, but he remained silent,
his eye never leaving his plate.
The air was thick with tension, like
seawater saturated with the
weight of their unspoken words.

Chip churned with
anxiety, each bite of chum a
reminder of the gap that had
suddenly widened between him and
his father. 

"Please, Dad," he murmured, his
voice barely audible above the
clink of their forks. Plankton's
antennas remained still, his eye
focused on the food before him.

Karen's heart was a tight knot in
her chest, her eyes darting
between her husband and son.
The silence was a living creature,
a Kraken of tension coiled around
them, squeezing the joy from the
room. She took a deep breath,
forcing a smile. "So, Chip, tell us
about your week," she said, her
voice too bright, too forced.

Chip took a tentative bite of his
chum, his eyes on Plankton's
unmoving antennae. "Well, I had a
good time at the carnival," he
began, his voice a sad echo of
his usual excitement. "I won
at the ring toss."

Plankton's antennae twitched
slightly, but he said nothing, his
silence a thick, unspoken wall. Chip
felt like a deflated balloon,
each of his words a futile attempt
to pierce the silence.

"And I met a new friend," Chip
continued, his voice a feeble thread
trying to weave through the
stillness. "She's a dolphin. She
was really cute." 

Plankton's antennae twitched again,
just a little, but it was enough to
keep Chip's hope afloat. 

Chip's voice grew stronger,
his words a lifeline thrown into
the turbulent sea of silence.
"Her name's Daisy," he said, a
tiny smile tugging. "We
played in the bubbles."

But Plankton's antennae remained
still, his eye on his plate. It
was as if Chip's words were bouncing
off an invisible shield, unable to
penetrate the fortress of his father's
mind. Chip's smile faltered, his screen
filling with unshed tears. He
wanted so badly to share his joy
with Plankton, but the wall of
silence was too high, too thick.

He took a deep breath, his
hands clenching around his fork.
"Dad, I know you're mad at me,"
he said, his voice trembling. "But I
just want to understand."

Plankton's antennae twitched
slightly, but he said nothing, his
face a mask of indifference.

The silence grew heavier
with each passing moment,
weighing down on Chip like an
oversized sponge soaked in
regret. He knew he had to
try again, to bridge the gap.

"Dad," he began, his voice
shaky but determined. "I know
I messed up today, but I want to
make it right." He took a deep
breath, willing the words to come.
"Can you tell me more about
your...about what happened to
you?" His voice was a tiny
bubble of hope rising in the
deep sea of their dinner.

Plankton's antennae twitched,
his eye flickering up to meet
Chip's for a brief moment before
dropping back to his plate. The
silence stretched on like a tight
rubber band, threatening to snap.

Karen's screen a tempest of
concern, torn between her love
for her husband and her
desire to help her son. She knew
Plankton needed his space, but
seeing the pain in Chip's screen was
like watching a piece of coral
being slowly eroded by the sea.

Chip's words hung in the air,
like a message in a bottle lost
at sea. Plankton's silence was a
reef that Chip's words couldn't
navigate around. He took a
deep breath, his heart a conch shell
echoing with hope. "Dad, I know
it's hard for you," he tried again,
his voice a gentle wave. "But if
you don't tell me, how can I
understand?"

The room was a pressure
cooker of unspoken emotion,
the tension rising with each
passing second. Karen's screen
pleaded with Plankton, willing him
to respond. But he remained
still, his antennae unmoving, his
eye a storm cloud over their meal.

Chip's heart felt like it was
being crushed in a vice, his words
falling on deaf antennae. "Dad,
please," he whispered, his voice
desperate. "I just want to help."

But Plankton's antennae remained
motionless, his eye averted.
The silence was a deep-sea trench
between them, vast and unbridgeable.
Chip's shoulders slumped, his hope
leaking away like water through
a sieve. He took another bite of
his chum, the taste of it suddenly
bitter on his tongue.

The clock on the wall ticked
loudly, each second a tiny hammer
on the anvil of his heart. Chip
forced a swallow, his throat tight
with emotion. "Dad," he said again,
his voice a tiny ripple in the vast
ocean of quiet. "I'm sorry." The room
held its breath, waiting for a
response, but none came. The
silence was a thick kelp that
choked, suffocating any
attempt at conversation.

new chip and fail Chip Plankton II Sheldon J. Plankton & Chip Plankton II Karen/Chip Plankton II xi

CHIP AND FAIL xii
(Autistic author)

Karen knew her
husband's withdrawal was a defense
mechanism, a way to cope with the
sensory overload. But watching
Chip's pain was like watching a
school of fish caught in a net,
thrashing against the confines of
their misunderstanding.

Chip pushed his chum around his
plate, his appetite lost in the
whirlpool of emotions. "Dad," he
tried again, his voice a soft
wave breaking on the shore of
Plankton's silence. "I don't know
what to do." Chip
felt like a tiny fish adrift in
the vast sea of his father's
displeasure. "I just want to be
there for you," he murmured, his
words a desperate plea.

But Plankton's antennae remained
still, his eye unreadable. The silence
was a dense fog, obscuring the
usual warmth between them. Chip's
heart felt like it was trapped in a
fishnet of doubt and confusion.

Karen watched the exchange with a
heavy heart, her own plate of chum
barely touched. She knew Plankton's
silence was a form of self-protection,
his way of reeling in the chaos
that had engulfed him. But she
couldn't help but feel the barb of
it, stinging Chip with each
unanswered question.

"Dad," Chip whispered again, his voice
now a soft ripple in the vast sea
of their dinner. "I know you're upset,
but I'm trying." He took another
tentative bite, his screen never
leaving Plankton's still form. "Can
we talk about it? What part of today d..."

But Plankton's antennae remained
as stiff as coral, his eye unyielding.
The silence was a thick kelp
forest, entangling any attempt at
communication. Chip didn't know
what else to say, what else to do.

Karen's screen searched the horizon
of Plankton's face, looking for any
sign of relenting. But he was an
isolated island, unreachable. She
knew the storm inside him was
still raging, and she could feel the
waves of pain crashing against the
shore of her own.

Chip's voice was a sad melody,
his words a school of fish lost
in a sea of misunderstanding.
"Dad," he whispered again, his voice
a soft ripple in the vast ocean of
silence. "I know I said the wrong
things, but I'm here. I'm listening."

Plankton's antennae remained
still, his eye a clouded pool. The
dinner table was a coral reef of
tension, their plates untouched.
The only sound was the distant
lapping of waves against the shore
of their unspoken words.

Chip's voice was a lone seagull
calling out into the vast sea of
silence. "Dad," he tried again,
his voice a desperate cry. "I'm
sorry for what I said." But the
words fell into the abyss,
unheard by the father who was
deaf to his son's pain.

Plankton's antennae remained
still. The
tension at the dinner table was
thick, obscuring any
chance of understanding.

"Dad," he said. "I 
didn't mean to hurt
you." Chip's hope
was fading.

"I'm sorry," Chip murmured again.
He didn't know what else to say,
his words a futile attempt. 
His father's antennae
twitched slightly.

The room was thick with
unspoken words. Karen's screen
flitted between them, her gaze
a beacon of understanding for
Chip in the abyss of Plankton's
silence. She knew her husband's
pain, had seen the storms he
weathered in solitude. But she also
saw the desperation in Chip's
screen, the yearning for
connection.

"Dad," Chip whispered.
"I know I don't understand it all,
but I want to learn."

Plankton's antennae remained
unmoved, the
silence a crushing weight that
threatened to drown them both.

Chip's voice was tiny.
He took another bite of chum,
his mouth moving mechanically,
his screen never leaving Plankton's
still form. "Dad," he tried again,
his voice a soft whisper. "What
can I do?"

Plankton's antennae twitched once.
He took a deep breath, his chest
expanding then letting it out in a slow sigh.

Chip was trapped. He had
never seen his father so closed
off, his usual vibrant spirit
dimmed.

Karen's eyes were a lifeline,
her gaze a gentle nudge towards
patience. She knew Plankton's
silence was not rejection but a
cry for space, a retreat into 
his own mind. "It's okay," she
mouthed.

Chip nodded, his screen never
leaving Plankton's still form. He
could see the pain etched in the
lines of his father's face, the
way his antennae drooped.
He took a deep breath.
"Dad," he said, his voice a soft
current. "I just want to help."

Plankton's antennae twitched,
just once, but it was enough for
Chip to hold onto. "I'll learn so I can be
there to help during temper tantrums.."
And there it is. His eye
flinched, and suddenly, he was
no longer in the quiet room with
his son and wife. He was back in
elementary school, the laughter of
his classmates as they called
his meltdowns "tantrums." The taste
of the chum in his mouth turned
sour. His school teachers had never
understood, had never seen the silent
storm that raged beneath his calm
surface.

"Plankton?" Karen's voice was
a soft echo, reaching out to him.
He blinked, coming back to the
present, his gaze meeting hers.
Her eyes were calm.

Chip's voice was a gentle
nudge. "Dad, I'm sorry, I didn't
mean to..." But Plankton's mind
was tangled within his thoughts of his
past. The word "tantrum" echoed in
his head, a reminder of his
vulnerability.

Karen's eyes searched her
husband's, understanding. She
reached over, her hand soft 
on his arm. "Take a moment," she
whispered. "We're here for you."

Plankton felt the warmth of her
touch, grounding him. His antennae
twitched slightly, acknowledging
her support.

new chip and fail Chip Plankton II Sheldon J. Plankton & Chip Plankton II Karen/Chip Plankton II xii

CHIP AND FAIL xiii
(Autistic author)

Chip's voice was soft. "Dad,
I didn't mean to..."

But Plankton was stuck. His antennae
twitched, a silent signal of his
distress.

Karen's hand on his arm was a
lifeline. She had seen the way the
world had treated him, the way
his own son didn't understand.

"I mean, it's not like you can't just
turn it off," Chip said, his voice
naive and hopeful. "Why can't you just
deal with it? Why do you always have to be
so sensitive? You'll get used to it. If
not, then you're just being dramatic. So
just stop with the tantrums, and be
normal." Plankton's unable to 
take it.

"Chip, that's enough," Karen's voice
was firm, cutting through the
silence, but Plankton's already
simmering emotions boiled over.

"What?" Chip looked at her,
confusion in his screen. "What's
wrong with what I said? He's
just overreacting.."

Karen's eyes were a tempest
of emotion. She knew Chip didn't
mean to be hurtful, but his words
cut through Plankton like a knife.
Her hand tightened on his arm, a gentle
reminder to think before he spoke.
"Chip," she said, her voice firm but
kind. "You need to understand that
what you just said is not okay."

But Chip was oblivious, his
screen a puzzle of confusion. "What?
I just want to know why you chose
to be like a..." "CHIP," Karen interrupts.
But Plankton's already in tears, as
Chip's gotten to him.

"Dad," Chip says.
"You know I..."

But Plankton can't take 
it anymore. "How could you?" 
he chokes out, tears flowing.

Chip's eyes widened. He had
never seen his father like
this.

"Dad?" He reached out, his
hand hovering, unsure if he
should touch him.

Plankton looked up, his
single eye brimming with
sorrow. "Why? How dare you 
say that?" he whispered, now
getting up from the kitchen
table.

Chip's hand fell to his side, his
mouth a sad 'o' of regret.
"Dad, no, that's not what I..."

But Plankton was already
retreating, his antennae
drooping with each step.
The kitchen door closed with
a soft click, leaving Chip
and Karen in the wake of his
withdrawal.

Chip's eyes were wide with
disbelief, his heart heavy
in his chest. "What did
I do?" he asked, his voice
breaking the surface of their
shared shock.

Karen's eyes were pools of
disappointment and sadness.
"You don't know what you
just said," she murmured, her
voice a gentle rebuke.

"What?" Chip's voice was
a sad echo, his confusion
palpable.

Karen's eyes were a tempest
of frustration and sadness.
"Chip, what you said was not
only hurtful, it was ignorant,"
she said, her voice a soft
wash of disappointment. "You
can't tell someone to 'just
deal with it' when it comes to
autism."

Chip's shoulders slumped, his
face a mask of regret. "But I
just want to understand," he
mumbled, his voice a sad echo.

Karen's voice tightens with emotion. "You
have to learn to listen without
speaking," she said, her words
carefully chosen. "Your dad's
autism is not something he can
just 'turn off'."

Chip's eyes were wide with shock.
"I didn't know," he murmured. "I'm sorry."

"You have to understand, Chip. Your father's
not being dramatic. He's in pain,"
she said, her voice cracking. "You can't just
tell him to 'deal with it'. That's not how
this works."

The words stung Chip. He had never
seen his mother so upset. "But I didn't know,"
he protested. "You have
to learn to listen," she repeated, her
voice soft yet firm. "You can't just
assume you understand because you want to."

He had wanted to connect, but instead,
he had only pushed his father further
away. He took a deep breath, the weight of
his ignorance heavy on his shoulders. "What
can I do?" he asked.

Karen took a moment before responding. "Give
your father space," she said. "And ask about
it first. Understand that his reactions are not
his choice."

Chip nodded, his eyes downcast. He knew he had
messed up, but he didn't know how to fix it. Karen
stood, her movements a gentle sway as she walked
to Plankton's room, leaving Chip alone with his
guilt.

new chip and fail Chip Plankton II Sheldon J. Plankton & Chip Plankton II Karen/Chip Plankton II xiii

CHIP AND FAIL xiv
(Autistic author)

Karen opened the 
door. Plankton's sobs filled
the room. She
approached him slowly, 
her movements careful not
to startle him.

"Plankton?" she whispered,
her voice gentle. He was curled
up on the bed, his antennae
shaking with each gasp.

His single eye 
looked up at her.
"I'm sorry," he 
choked out.

Karen sat
beside him, her hand 
on his back in a comforting
motion. "You have nothing to
apologize for," she 
murmured, her voice soothing.
"It's Chip who needs to
understand."

Plankton's antennae stopped
shaking, his eye focusing on
her. "Why doesn't he get it?"
he whispered.
"Why can't he see..."

"Chip loves you," she said.
"But he's never had to deal with
this before. He's trying to
understand."

Plankton's antennae quivered.
He knew she was right, but the
pain of his son's ignorance...

The door creaked open, and Chip's
face appeared, his eyes red and
swollen. "Dad," he began. "Can we talk?"

Plankton felt a wave of anger
crash over him. How could he
forgive his son for not
understanding? For not seeing
the struggle he faced every
single day? "What
do you want, Chip?" he snapped.

Chip took a tentative step into
the room, his screen on Karen.
"I just...I didn't know," he
mumbled. "I'm sorry."

Plankton's antennae shot up. "How
could you not know?" he snarled.
"How could you be so ignorant?"

Chip took a step back. "I didn't mean to
make it worse," he said, his voice
shaking. "I just wanted to be
close to you Dad, and have you..."

Plankton's antennae trembled with
frustration. "You think I don't
want that?" he spat. "You think I enjoy
being like this?"

Chip's eyes widened. "No, Dad," he
said quickly. "I just want to help
you show..."

But Plankton was drowning in
anger. "You think you can help?"
he sneered. "You think your
naive attempts at bonding
can fix what's broken?"

Chip felt the sting of his father's
words. "Dad, I didn't mean to..."

But Plankton's antennae remained
still. "Get out," he said, his voice
cold. "Just leave me alone."

Chip's eyes filled with tears. He had
never heard such hostility from his
father. "Dad," he pleaded. "I'm
trying..."

"I WON'T HAVE YOU PITY ME!
I've lived with this my whole life, 
and you think you can just waltz 
in and 'help'? WELL, YOU CAN'T!"
Plankton hissed. Karen can tell
he's getting overwhelmed.

With a gentle but firm tone,
Karen stepped between Chip and
Plankton. "Both of you, stop,"
she said. "This isn't helping."
Her eyes met Chip's and then Plankton's.

"Chip, your father is not mad at
you, he's just overwhelmed," Karen
explained.
"And Plankton, your son is just trying
to understand."

new chip and fail Chip Plankton II Sheldon J. Plankton & Chip Plankton II Karen/Chip Plankton II xiv

CHIP AND FAIL xv
(Autistic author)

"But Dad," Chip began, his voice
trembling, when Plankton
interrupts. "BUT DAD," Plankton
mimics, his voice high-pitched
and mocking. "You think you know
how I feel, but you have no
idea!"

Karen stepped back. 
She knew Plankton needed to
express his anger, and Chip needed
to learn from it.

"Dad, I'm sorry," Chip whispered,
his voice cracking. "I didn't mean to
make it about..."

But Plankton's antennae were a
flurry of agitation. "You think your
stupid need to touch me can just
make everything okay? WELL
GUESS WHAT, CHIP? IT CAN'T!" He
was shouting now, his voice echoing
through the room.

Chip's eyes filled with hurt. "Dad,
I just wanted to tell you about my
week," he said, his voice quivering.
"I didn't mean to..."

But Plankton's just starting. "You
think your convenience more important
than my comfort?" he snapped.

"Dad," Chip says. "I just wanted 
to be close..."

But Plankton's anger was a raging
storm. "YOUR VERSION OF CLOSE IS 
Suffocation!" he yells, his antennae
shaking violently. "You're nothing
but a child. All you know is your
own need for attention, yet 
you expect me to be
fine with your constant 
poking and prodding?"

Chip's cheeks burned with 
shame. "That's not fair," he
managed to say, his voice 
barely above a whisper. "I'm trying
to understand..."

But Plankton's antennae 
were a blur of anger. "Understand?
You can't even begin to understand
what it's like!" he spat. "You live
your life in a bubble, Chip. You've
always had everything you've ever
wanted, and now you want to 'understand'
me? And don't come crying about
fairness..."

"PLEASE Dad..."

But Plankton's anger was 
unstoppable. "You think 
you're so clever," he sneered 
with rage. "With your fancy 
friends and your easy life. 
You wouldn't know what it's 
like to have to fight for every 
little thing."

Chip felt the sting. 
"Dad," he choked 
out, "That's not..."

But Plankton's words were a
tidal wave, crashing down. "You're 
selfish," he accused. "Always
thinking of yourself."

Now Chip's getting upset.
"I'm selfish? At least I'm
not the one who's too busy being a
drama queen to see how much I
care!" he retorts, his voice a mix
of pain and anger.

Plankton's antennae shot up.
"You dare call me that?" he roared.
"You have no idea what it's like to
drown in sensory overload, to have
your brain betray you every single
day!"

Chip took a step back, his
cheeks red with anger. "You think
because I don't understand, I don't
care?" he yelled back. "You're the
one who's never there for me because
of your 'condition'! You're just a shallow, 
spoiled little..."

"ENOUGH! Both of
you, stop it right 
now!" Karen says.

Her voice cuts through the
argument like a knife,
silencing the room. She
could feel the anger, the
frustration, the hurt in
each of their voices.

new chip and fail Chip Plankton II Sheldon J. Plankton & Chip Plankton II Karen/Chip Plankton II xv

CHIP AND FAIL xvi
(Autistic author)

"Both of you, sit down," Karen
ordered, her voice firm but
not unkind. They complied,
their movements jerky with
emotion.

"Chip, your father's autism
is not an excuse for this
behavior, but it's also not
something to mock," Karen began,
looking at her son with
serious eyes. "It's a part of
him, and we need to respect it."

Chip's anger subsided slightly. "But
you saw what happened earlier," he
said, his voice still shaking. "It's like
he doesn't even want to be around me."

But Plankton's not quite done.
"Why do you think that is, Chip? Go
on, smarty, enlighten..."

Karen's patience had run out. "Plankton,"
she said, her voice stern.
"That's enough."

He glared at Chip, his antennae
quivering with anger. Chip looked
away from him.

"And Plankton," Karen's voice was
a gentle reprimand, "Your son's
ignorance is not an excuse for
anger. We all need to communicate
better."

Plankton's antennae drooped.
"I know," he murmured, his anger
easing slightly. "It's just..."

Karen's voice was firm. "I know it's
frustrating, but we need to work
together." She turned to Chip.
"And Chip, your father's feelings are
valid. You can't ignore them."

Chip looked at his father, his
eyes filled with regret. "I'm sorry,
Dad," he murmured. "I didn't
mean to hurt you."

Karen's voice was calm as
she interceded. "Plankton, can
you tell Chip what happened
today? Help him understand?"

Plankton's antennae stopped
shaking. He took a deep breath.
"When you touch me without
asking," he began, his voice
still sharp, "my body can't
always handle what yours can."

Karen's eyes were a gentle
reminder of the lesson she had
tried to teach earlier. She nodded
for him to continue.

"When you poke me 
or touch me without
asking," Plankton said, 
"it's overwhelming."

"I just barely touched you
for one second, Dad!"

"To you, it's one second," Plankton
replied, his antennae drooping. "To me,
it's an eternity of discomfort."

Karen stepped in. "Chip," she said,
"You need to understand that for
him, it's not just about
physical contact. It's about
respecting his boundaries."

new chip and fail Chip Plankton II Sheldon J. Plankton & Chip Plankton II Karen/Chip Plankton II xvi

CHIP AND FAIL xvii
(Autistic author)

Plankton quivered with
the effort to contain 
his anger.

"Chip, your dad's right,"
Karen said, her voice
a soft current of calm
amidst the storm. "You
have to learn to respect
his boundaries."

Plankton's antennae twitched.
He looked at Karen, his
eye filled with a mix of
gratitude and pain. "It's not just
the touch," he whispered, his voice
raw. "It's the types of touch,
the expectations... It's like I'm
drowning every day."

Karen nodded, her eyes never
leaving Plankton's. "And
Chip," she said, turning to her son,
"you need to learn to swim
without pushing him under."

Chip's eyes were wide with
understanding. "What can I do?"

Karen took a deep breath. "Just
ask before you touch," she said.
"And if he says no, respect it.
Give him space."

Chip's eyes searched his father's.
"Dad," he whispered. "I'm sorry."

Plankton's antennae twitched, a
sign of his internal struggle.
Karen's hand squeezed his.

"Okay, Chip," she said, her voice
a gentle guide. "Ask your questions."

Chip took a deep breath. "What do
you mean by 'ask before I touch'?"
he ventured, his eyes on Plankton,
his antennae still a blur of agitation.

Plankton took a moment before
replying. "It means," he began,
his voice still sharp, "that I need
space. My brain can't handle
what yours can!"

"But Mom," Chip's voice was
still tentative, "How do we
know what touch..."

But Plankton's antennae shot up,
his eye a storm of agitation. "Just ask!"
he snapped. "It's not rocket
science, Chip. Just. Ask."

Chip took a deep breath, his
cheeks still flushed with anger.
"I'm asking what types of..."

But Plankton's antennae were
already back to their usual
calm state. "I know you're curious,"
he said, his voice softer. "But I can't
just list them. It's different every
day. Sometimes, a simple pat on the
back is too much. Other times, I
crave a hug."

Chip nodded slowly, his mind racing
with questions. "So, it IS a choice..."

But Plankton's antennae drooped. "No,
Chip," he said, his voice weary. "It's not
a choice. It's survival."

"Survival? Dad, a touch 
won't kill you.."

But Plankton's antennae 
twitched again. "It's not just 
about living," he said, his voice
sad. "It's about living without pain."

Chip's eyes searched his 
father's, seeing the weariness 
and hurt. He took a step closer,
his hand outstretched. "Can I?"
he asked, his voice tentative.

Plankton flinched, his antennae
shooting up. "What are you doing?"
he snapped, his voice tight with
anxiety.

"Just asking if it's okay," Chip said,
his hand hovering in midair. "I don't
want to..."

Plankton's antennae stopped
twitching. "If you're going to ask,
make it genuine," he said, his voice
softening. "Don't just do it because
you think it's the right thing to do."

Chip nodded, his hand
still hovering. "I want to learn,"
he said, his voice earnest. "What
can I do to make it better?"

Plankton's antennae quivered
slightly, a hint of softening.
"You can start by listening," he said,
his voice a little less sharp.

"What do you mean?" Chip
asked, his hand slowly lowering.

"I mean," Plankton began, his antennae
calming slightly, "that I need you to
understand that my boundaries are not
up for negotiation."

"But what if I want to hug you?"
Chip's voice was hopeful, his 
arms outstretched and already
reaching him.

Plankton's antennae shot
up again. "Chip, I said no!"
he yelled, his voice sharp with
pain. "How many times do I have to
tell you?"

Chip's eyes widened, his hands
falling to his side. "But I just..."

But Plankton's antennae were
a blur of agitation again. "You don't
get it!" he shouted. "It's not about
what YOU want, it's about what I need!"

Chip's eyes searched his father's,
his mind racing. "But Dad, I just
want to show you that I care," he
said, his voice quivering. "Is there
no way to do that without making
you uncomfortable?"

Plankton's antennae twitched. "Chip,"
he began, his voice weary, "just
because you don't see my struggle
doesn't mean it's not there."

Chip's eyes searched his father's, his
hands clenched at his sides. "But
how can I show you that I care?"

"Sleep, for now," Karen 
says. "We're all
tired. We can 
talk about this
another time."

Plankton's antennae
dropped slightly, his 
body visibly
deflating. Chip 
nodded, his eyes 
on the floor.

"Okay," he murmured.
"I'll just go to
my room."

Karen watched him go,
her heart heavy with the
knowledge that she had
to be the one to mend
the fracture between
father and son. She
turned to Plankton.

"Bedtime," she said, her
voice a gentle nudge. "We're
all exhausted. It's late."

The next morning, Chip 
awoke early.

He could feel the tension
in the air, thick and palpable.
The house was eerily silent.
He knew he had to make things
right for his dad.

Chip tiptoed to his parents's
room, his heart racing.
He pushed the door open.

Karen was sitting on the
edge of the bed. Plankton
was curled up, his antennae
twitching slightly.

Chip swallowed his pride. "Mom,
I'm sorry for what I said," he
mumbled. "Can you help me talk
to Dad?"

Karen's eyes softened. "Your father's
still sleeping," she said. "But I'll
talk to him when he wakes up."

Chip nodded. "I'll wait," he said,
his voice barely a whisper. "I'll do
whatever it takes."

Karen's eyes searched his,
seeing the determination in them.
"Alright," she said, her voice a
soft caress. "But remember, it's not
about fixing him. It's about
understanding him."

Chip nodded solemnly. "I know,"
he said. "I just want to be
there for him."

Karen's eyes filled with
pride. "That's all we can
ask for," she said. "But you
have to be patient."

Chip goes to his mom's
bed, sitting down.

"I'll wait," he says.
"I'm not leaving until
we talk."

Karen nods, her eyes filled with
understanding. "I'll stay with
you," she says. "But remember, we
have to give him space."

Chip nods, his gaze never leaving
his father's sleeping form. He
studies Plankton, his antennae
twitching slightly in his sleep.
He tries to imagine what it's like
for his dad, to live in a world
where a simple touch could be
torture.

He watches the rise and fall
of Plankton's chest, the gentle
sway of his antennae. He notices
how peaceful he looks when
his mind isn't bombarded by the
world's sensory assault, the way his
mouth is slightly open.

"Mom," Chip says, his voice
barely above a whisper. "What
does Dad's autism mean for his
sleep?"

Karen sighs, her eyes still
on Plankton. "It means that
his brain is always on alert,"
she explains. "Sleep can be
elusive for him. Sometimes, the
smallest sound can keep him
awake for hours."

Chip nods, his gaze still
on Plankton. "What
happened yesterday when I...
Dad was unresponsive?"

Karen sighs. "Sensory overload,"
she says. "It's like your brain
has too much to process, so
it just shuts down."

Chip nods, his eyes
still on Plankton. "Was he
like, awake?" he asks.

"Sort of," Karen replies,
her eyes never leaving
Plankton's restless form. 
"It's like he's trapped
in his own head."

"Could he hear me?" Chip's voice
was a mix of fear and hope.
"Could he feel anything?"

Karen looked at her son, her
heart heavy with the knowledge
that she was about to reveal a
painful truth. "He heard you," she
said gently. "But his brain couldn't
process it all."

Chip felt a lump in his throat.
"Could he see?" he asked,
his voice tight with emotion.

Karen nodded, her eyes
still on Plankton. "He could see
you," she said. "But it's like
his brain was stuck in a loop,
replaying the same scene over 
and over."

Chip felt the weight of his
father's pain, his own chest
constricting. "How long do
they usually last?"

Karen's gaze remained on
Plankton. "It varies," she
said. "Sometimes just seconds,
other times hours. It all depends
on how overwhelmed he gets."

new chip and fail Chip Plankton II Sheldon J. Plankton & Chip Plankton II Karen/Chip Plankton II xvii

CHIP AND FAIL xviii
(Autistic author)

Chip's eyes grew wide with
realization. "So that's why
he..."

But before he could finish,
Plankton's antennae began to stir,
his body shifting slightly in the
bed. Chip's breath caught in his
throat as he watched his father's
face contort. "It's
not uncommon for someone with
autism to have trouble with
sleep." Karen whispers.
"He's okay."

Chip's eyes remained glued
to his father, watching as the
twitching grew more pronounced.
Plankton's antennae quivered and he
let out a soft whine.

Karen's hand reached
for Plankton's, her thumb
stroking his gently, her
voice a gentle coo. "It's okay,
Plankton," she whispered, her
hand stroking his arm.

Karen's voice remained
steady, her hand never
leaving Plankton's arm.
"It's okay," she whispered,
her eyes on Chip. "He's just..."

Chip took a tentative step
forward, his hand reaching
out to mirror Karen's. His
fingertips brushed Plankton's
arm. "Dad?" he
whispered, looming
over him.

With a gasped jolt, Plankton's
eye flew open, his antennae
shooting straight up with a yelp
at the sight of Chip looking over him.

"Don't touch me!" he screamed,
his voice a mix of fear and anger.

Chip's hand shot back as if burned.
He stepped away quickly, his eyes
wide with shock. "Dad," he began,
his voice shaky.

But Plankton's antennae were a
blur of agitation. "I said no!" he
shouted. "Can't you just leave me
alone?"

Chip's eyes filled with hurt, but
he stepped back, his arms dropping
to his sides. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

Karen's voice was a soft
whisper, trying to soothe Plankton.
"It's okay, honey," she said, her
hand still on his arm. "Chip's just
trying to help."

Plankton's antennae twitched,
his eye darting from Karen to
Chip and back again. "I don't
want his help," he said, his
voice tight with anger. "I just want
to be left alone."

Chip felt his heart sink. "But Dad,"
he protested, his voice cracking.

Plankton's antennae stopped moving.
He took a deep, shaky breath. "Chip,
you have to understand," he said, his
voice strained. "I need my space."

Karen's eyes were filled with
compassion as she turned to
Chip. "Give him some time,"
she said gently.

Chip nodded, his eyes
still on his father. "But
what if he doesn't want
me to come back?"

Karen's voice was firm. "He
doesn't have to be ready
right now," she said. "But we'll
work on it."

Chip's eyes searched hers,
seeking reassurance. "But what
if he never is?"

Karen's voice was a gentle
reminder. "He's your father,
Chip. And you love him.
Give him the space he needs,
but don't give up."

Chip nodded, his eyes
still on Plankton's rigid
form. "Okay," he murmured.
"But how do I..."

But Karen's voice was firm. "You'll
learn," she said. "We'll all learn
together." She stood, her hand
sliding off Plankton's arm. "For now,
let him rest. We'll talk more later."

Chip nodded, his gaze
lingering on his father's tense
form. He turned to leave the room,
his shoulders slumped with the weight
of his newfound understanding.

As he closed the door softly behind
him, he heard Plankton's muffled
sobs, and it was like a dagger to his
heart. He leaned against the wall,
his eyes brimming with tears. "What
have I done?" he thought.

Karen's hand was a warm
comfort on Plankton's shoulder,
guiding him back to the bed.
"Let's sit," she said, her voice
soft and soothing.

Plankton's antennae slowly
lowered as he sat down, his body
still tense with emotion. "I just...
I can't," he said, his voice
breaking.

Karen pulled him into a gentle
embrace, her arms a warm cocoon
around his trembling form. "You
don't have to," she whispered. "You've
been through enough."

Plankton's antennae quivered against
her shoulder. "But what about Chip?"
he managed through his sobs. "He
deserves better."

"He deserves to understand,"
Karen said, her voice a gentle
lullaby. "And we'll help him get there."

Plankton's sobs quieted, his antennae
still quivering against her shoulder.
He took a shaky breath. "I don't
know if I can," he said. "Every time
I think we're making progress..."

"Shh," Karen whispered. "We're
getting there." She held him tighter.

Plankton's antennae stilled, his
body relaxing slightly into
the warmth of her embrace. He
closed his eye, his breathing
evening out. Within minutes,
his antennae were a gentle sway
against her neck, a sign that
sleep was claiming him.

Karen held him tightly, her own
body tense with the weight of
his pain. She knew this was a
small victory, but it was a
step in the right direction.
As she felt him drift off,
she whispered, "We'll get
through this together."

Plankton's antennae stilled
completely, his body finally
giving in to the comfort of
his wife's embrace.

Karen's heart ached as she felt
his tension melt away, his breaths
evening into the rhythm of sleep.

The room was a canvas of early
morning light, casting soft shadows
on their intertwined forms.

Plankton's antennae had finally
stilled, their gentle sway a testament
to his deep slumber. His body was
relaxed, no longer a battleground
for sensory overload.

Karen's arms remained wrapped 
around Plankton's shoulders, her 
grip gentle yet firm. His antennae,
which had been a maelstrom of 
anxiety, now laid calmly against 
her neck, each twitch replaced by 
a steady breath.

The room, bathed in the soft 
glow of early dawn, was a sanctuary 
of quietude. The tension from 
the previous night had been 
replaced by the serene rhythm of 
his snores, a melody that spoke of
his body's surrender to rest.

Chip tiptoed back to the bedroom
door, his heart a drum in his chest.
He peeked in, his eyes immediately
finding his father, still asleep. 
Karen was there, her arms
around Plankton's shoulders.

The sight of them together,
his mother's comforting embrace,
his father's peaceful rest,
was a stark contrast to the
chaos of the night before.

Chip's heart clenched in his chest,
his eyes stinging with unshed
tears. He wanted so badly
to be a part of that peace,
but he knew he had to earn it.

He took a tentative step into
the room, his eyes never
leaving his father's sleeping
form. Karen looked up, her eyes
heavy with the weight of the
night's events. She offered a
small smile, a silent gesture of
support.

"How is he?" Chip asked, his
voice a whisper in the early
morning stillness.

"As well as can be," Karen replied,
her eyes never leaving Plankton.
"But we need to talk."

Chip nodded, his heart racing
as he stepped closer to the bed.
"I'm sorry," he murmured, his
eyes on his father's still form.

Karen's gaze met his, her
expression a mix of love and
concern. "We all are, Chip," she
said, her voice a gentle breeze.
"But it's important to learn
from this."

Chip nodded, his eyes
still on his father. "What can I do?"
he asked, his voice tentative.

Karen looked up at him,
her eyes filled with understanding.
"For now, just give him space,"
she said. "He needs to wake up
on his own terms. You've
apologized," she said. "Now you
have to show it."

Chip nodded, his heart
heavy. "What do you mean?"

Karen took a deep breath.
"It means," she began, "that
you need to respect his boundaries.
Ask before you touch him. Give
him time to process what's happening.
And when he says no, accept it."

Chip nodded, his eyes
still on Plankton. "But what if
I accidentally..."

Karen's voice was a firm,
yet gentle, guide. "You'll learn,"
she said. "It's about paying
attention, Chip. Watching his
body language, his antennae.
They'll tell you when he's
reaching his limit."

Chip nodded, his eyes still
on Plankton's sleeping form. "But
what if I miss the signs?"
his voice filled with fear.

Karen's eyes searched his,
seeing the earnestness in
them. "You won't always get it
right," she admitted. "But the
important thing is that you
keep trying."

Chip nodded, his gaze
falling to his father's antennae.
They were still, no longer a
whirlwind of distress. "I will,"
he promised.

new chip and fail Chip Plankton II Sheldon J. Plankton & Chip Plankton II Karen/Chip Plankton II xviii

CHIP AND FAIL i
(Autistic author)

Chip, adopted at birth
by Karen and Sheldon
Plankton, had spent a
week with some college
buddies and is coming
home!

Getting off the bus, he
goes to open the front
door, eager to see his
family.

"I'm home!" he called
out, going inside.

The house was unusually
silent, but Chip knew
his mom was probably
busy in the kitchen, and
his dad, Plankton, was
likely in their room,
lost in his mechanical
reveries. Chip dropped his
backpack by the door to find
his mom.

"Mom! I'm back!" he shouted,
his voice echoing through
the hallway. Karen poked
her head out. She looked surprised,
then a bit nervous as she
quickly turned off the oven.
"Oh, Chip, sweetheart, I'm
so glad you're home," she
said, her smile forced and
eyes darting towards the
closed door of Plankton's bedroom.

Chip noticed the tension and
frowned. "Where's Dad?"
Karen's smile faltered. "He's
fine," she assured him,
forcing a lightness into her
tone.

Karen never told Chip
about Plankton being
on the autism spectrum.
It's something he never
shares, and only Karen
knew about it. They don't
intend for Chip to know
even though Karen feels
bad about not saying anything.
Chip thus didn't know that any sudden
interaction could send him into a
tailspin of sensory overload.

"Dad?" he called out,
his voice tentative. 
Karen's eyes widened. She
moved swiftly, placing a hand
on Chip's shoulder. "Why
don't you go unpack?" she
suggested, guiding him back to
the living room.
The tension in her voice
was palpable, but Chip
was too excited to question
it. He sat down on the couch,
his thoughts racing. It had
been a week since he last saw
his dad, and he had so much
to tell him about his college
adventures. He could almost
hear the enthusiastic questions
Plankton would ask about his
studies and new friends! So
Chip decides to go see him.
Plankton was sitting at his bed.
"Surprise!" Chip exclaimed,
thrusting open the door and
stepping in. Plankton flinched,
but Chip doesn't notice. Chip was
like a puppy eager to share love.

Plankton's head felt like it was
about to split open with the
onslaught of stimuli.
Chip didn't realize that the
suddenness of his entry was a
problem. Plankton's eye grew
wider as Chip rushed over.

"Whoa, Dad, guess what?" Chip
asked, his voice full of life.
He sat down beside Plankton,
his heart thumping with excitement.
Plankton's eyes darted around the
room, his breaths shallow and quick.
"I made friends with a squirrel!
Her name's Nutmeg. She's the
smartest animal on campus.
And she loves physics! Can you
believe it?"

Plankton's condition meant that
sudden noises and intrusions
could overwhelm him. But the
sensory assault was making
it difficult to form coherent
thoughts, let alone respond with
the enthusiasm Chip deserved. He
needed time to process his
surroundings, to prepare for
interaction. But Chip was
always so full of life, so eager
to share, and he had no way
of knowing the effect his
enthusiasm could have.
He placed a hand on Plankton's 
shoulder, not knowing about his
sensory disorder.

"I've missed you so much, Dad,"
Chip said, leaning in to give
his father a hug. The sudden
contact was like a thunderclap
in Plankton's mind, and he
recoiled slightly. But Chip was already
deep into his story about a
physics experiment gone wrong
that had left the lab in a tizzy.
He talked with his hands,
gesturing wildly as he
described the chaos. Plankton
sat rigidly beside him, trying to
focus on the words, trying not
to let the noise and motion
consume him.

"So, we had to build a catapult
to launch a watermelon across
the quad," Chip continued,
laughing at the memory of the
mess they had made. Plankton's
face remained expressionless,
his eye unfocused.

"It was so cool!" Chip said,
his hand landing on Plankton's knee.
The sudden touch sent a jolt
of sensation through Plankton's body,
like an electrical current. He
swallowed hard, trying to keep
his composure. "You should've seen
it fly!" Chip, oblivious
to his father's distress, just
beamed wider, eager for more
reaction. Plankton was
battling to stay present, to
connect with his son, but the
environment was turning toxic
for him, the
sensory input bombarding.
Chip's eyes lit up even more. "Oh,
Dad, you won't believe it! There's
this guy, Larry, he's like the
human encyclopedia of comic books.
And Sally, she's a whiz at chemistry,
and she makes the best
slime! We're going to start a
science club together!" The
colors in the room seemed to
intensify, the sounds of Chip's
voice and the rustle of his clothes
like a symphony of chaos.

Plankton felt the world closing
in. His thoughts were a jumbled
mess, trying to process the
flood of new faces and names and
ideas. He desperately wished he
could share in Chip's excitement,
but the effort was exhausting.

new chip and fail Chip Plankton II Sheldon J. Plankton & Chip Plankton II Karen/Chip Plankton II i

CHIP AND FAIL vi
(Autistic author)

Karen's eyes searched Plankton's,
looking for the spark that
meant he was coming back to her.
Slowly, the panic in his gaze
faded, replaced by the familiar
look of love and confusion. "I'm
here," she said, her voice barely
above a whisper. "It's okay."

Plankton's body finally
unclenched, his muscles relaxing
under her gentle touch. The storm
in his mind was receding, leaving
behind a quiet beach of clarity.
He didn't know what had
happened, only that it was bad.

Karen knew the routine, the
dance of calming Plankton after
a meltdown. But Chip didn't know.
He was just trying to share his
excitement, to reconnect with
his father after a week apart.
He didn't know that his touch, his
laughter, his stories, were all too
much for Plankton to handle.

As Karen worked to bring
Plankton back to reality, she
couldn't help but feel a pang of
sorrow for Chip. He had no idea
how his love was received, no way
to understand that his actions
could cause such pain. She had to
find a way to explain, to help
both her husband and her son find
a way to connect without setting
off the sensory bombs that lurked
just beneath the surface.

"K-Karen?" Plankton murmurs
as he slowly returns to himself.
The room stops spinning, the noises
dulling to a gentle hum. He looks
around, confusion etched in every line
of his face.

"You're okay," she whispers.
Her heart breaks for her husband,
for the silent battles he fights
every day. She knows Chip
doesn't understand, that his love
and excitement are a minefield
for Plankton's sensitive mind.

But she also feels a pang
of anger. How could she have
let this happen? She had hoped
that Chip's visit would be a
celebration, a chance for them
to bond. Instead, it had become
a reminder of the chasm that
sometimes separated them, a stark
reality of Plankton's condition.

Chip's sobs from the next room
were a constant reminder of the
pain he had inadvertently caused.
Karen knew she had to talk to
him, to explain.

"Chip, sweetheart," she called,
her voice carrying a gentle
authority. "Can you come out
here, please?"

Chip's heart was still racing,
his eyes red and puffy from crying.
He wiped his nose with the back
of his hand and stepped out of
his room, his gaze flickering to
his dad, then back to his mom. "Is he
okay?" he asked, his voice
small and unsure.

Karen nodded, her screen filled
with a mix of love and
exhaustion. "He's okay," she said,
"Honey, it's time we tell Chip. Can
I help you sit up, so you can tell him?"

Plankton nodded weakly, his body
still feeling like it was made
of lead. Karen helped him into
a sitting position, her eyes
never leaving his. "You're okay,"
she repeated, her voice a gentle
reminder.

Chip stared at
Plankton. "Dad?"
he asked, his 
voice tentative.

Plankton looked up at him,
his eye still clouded with the
aftermath of the storm.

"Chip," he began, his voice
weak, "I'm sorry." But Chip was
already there, kneeling beside
his dad, his screen wide with
relief and confusion.

"What happened?" Chip asked, his
voice trembling. "Why didn't you
answer me? You just ignored me!"

Karen's screen filled with
compassion as she placed a
comforting hand on Chip's shoulder.
"Your dad's not ignoring you,"
she said gently. "He has something
to tell you."

Plankton took a deep, shaky
breath, the words sticking in his
throat. He had always been
afraid of this moment, of the
day Chip would find out. "I...
I, I just..."

Karen squeezed his hand, her
gaze filled with understanding. "It's
okay," she said softly. "You can
tell him."

Plankton took another deep
breath, his voice trembling as
he began. "Chip, I'm... I..."

"Dad?" Chip leaned in, his screen
filled with hope and concern.

Plankton swallowed hard, the
weight of his secret heavy
on his shoulders. "I have...
I've got..."

"Tell me, Dad," Chip said, his
hands going to clutching his dad's 
arm. 
Plankton winced at the sudden
contact, his body tensing again.

Karen saw it, the brief
flicker of pain in his eye. She
quickly stepped in, placing a hand
on Chip's arm. "Give him a
moment, honey," she said, her
voice filled with gentle guidance.

Chip's screen searched hers. He
slowly removed his hand,
backing away slightly.

"Dad, tell me," he said, his voice
desperate. "What's wrong?"

Plankton took a deep breath,
his antennae drooping. "Chip," he
managed, "I've..."

But Chip was already there, his
hands on his father's shoulder.
"Dad, tell me," he said, his voice
filled with urgency. Plankton's
body tensed at the touch.

Karen stepped in quickly,
guiding Chip's hand away. "Let him
speak, honey," she said softly.

Plankton took another deep
breath, his antennae quivering
as he gathered his thoughts. "I have
a..."

"Dad, if it's something bad..."

Plankton's antennae quivered, his
face a mask of pained effort. "Chip..."

Chip's eyes were glued to his dad,
his mind racing with questions.
Why can't Dad just tell me?
He's always been so strong, so
independent. Why is this so hard
for him?

Plankton took a moment, his
eye searching for the right
words. "It's just..."

Chip leaned in closer. All he 
knew was that his
father was in pain and he needed to
fix it. "Just tell me, Dad!" he said,
his voice earnest. "Whatever it is..."

But Plankton was lost again, his
mind swirling with sensations. He
could feel Chip's screen on him,
hear his desperate pleas, but the
words remained trapped. He
closed his eye, trying to gather
his thoughts.

"Chip," he finally managed,
his voice a mere whisper. "I'm not..."

"You're not what?" Chip's voice
was filled with concern and a hint
of impatience.

Plankton opened his eye with a
sigh, his gaze meeting Chip's. "Son..."

"Dad, please, tell me!" Chip's
excitement was palpable, his
body vibrating with the need
for connection.

Plankton took a deep breath,
his antennae drooping slightly.
"Chip, I'm..."

But Chip, fueled by his
eagerness to connect, didn't
give him the space. "Come on, Dad,"
he said, his hands landing on
Plankton's shoulders again.

Plankton flinched, his eye
squeezing shut as the touch sent
a shockwave through his body. "Chip,"
he groaned, his voice strained.
"Please..."

But Chip's enthusiasm didn't
wane, his voice growing more
desperate. "Dad, tell me!" He didn't
understand the pain he was causing,
his need for a response only adding
to the pressure on Plankton, irritating
his frustration as he squeezed his
shoulders harder. "Just..."

Plankton's eye snapped open,
his body recoiling from the
intensity of his son's touch.
The words he had been trying
to form shattered like glass
under the weight of his sensory
overload. "Chip, STOP!" he
yelled, his voice cracking with
frustration and pain.

The sudden outburst shocked both
Karen and Chip into stillness. His dad had
never talked to him like that before. "What..."

But Plankton's agony was like a
dam bursting. He pushed Chip away,
his voice a shout of desperation.
"I CAN'T, CHIP!"

Chip staggered back, his
expression a mix of shock and
hurt. "But why?" he asked, his
voice trembling.

Plankton took a deep, shaky
breath, his body still reeling,
his voice strained. "I have...
I have..."

Chip's eyes searched 
his father's. Why couldn't
his dad just tell him what was
going on? "What, Dad?"

But Plankton was retreating
back into himself, his mind a
whirlwind of sensation and
frustration. "It's too much,"
he managed, his voice barely
above a whisper. "Your..."

"What's too much?" Chip
interrupted, his voice rising
with confusion. "My what?"

Plankton's antennae drooped
as he searched for a way to explain.
He had always kept his condition
to himself, fearful of the
misunderstanding it might bring.
"Chip," he began, his voice
trembling with the effort of
finding the words. "You..."

But Chip's excitement was a
wave, crashing over the delicate
barriers Plankton had built. "You're
not telling me something," he said,
his voice filled with accusation.
"What is it!" His touch was
like sandpaper on sunburned skin,
each word a jab at Plankton's
already overwhelmed mind.

Plankton's eye darted around the
room, his antennae twitching
wildly. The pressure was too
much, the noise of Chip's voice
like a siren. He
could feel the beginnings of a
panic attack, his chest tightening.

"Chip, please," he managed, his voice
barely above a whisper. "I need a
moment." But Chip's excitement
was a force of nature, unyielding
and relentless. "But I just
want to tell you about my week,
about the robot and Nutmeg!"
He didn't know that his words,
his touch, were like a tornado in
Plankton's mind, a storm he couldn't
weather.

new chip and fail Chip Plankton II Sheldon J. Plankton & Chip Plankton II Karen/Chip Plankton II vi

CHIP AND FAIL x
(Autistic author)

Plankton's antennae quivered, his
body trembling. "You want to help?"
he demanded, his voice a thunderclap.
"Then LISTEN!" His antennae shot
straight up, his body rigid with
tension. "Just because I freeze
up, it doesn't mean you get to
paw at me like a sea urchin
without a care in the world!"

Chip's screen filled with hurt, his
hands dropping to his sides. "But
Dad," he began, his voice trembling.
"I just wanted to make it better, seeing
you're not acting like an adult or even
a good dad with your dramatically fitful
tantrum." His words were like salt on
an open wound, but he didn't know
better, his innocence a blunt weapon.

Plankton's antennae snapped back,
his eye narrowing. "Out," he said, his
voice a glacial wind. "You don't get
to be in here right now."

Chip's eyes filled with shock, then
hurt, as the reality of his father's
words sank in. "But Dad, I didn't
mean..."

But Plankton was a wall of ice,
his antennae stiff and unyielding.
"No, get out," he repeated, his voice a
chilling wind that sliced through
Chip's protests. "I want you out of
my sight, Chip. Just go." His eye was
a storm cloud, threatening rain.

Chip felt the sting of his dad's
words, the coldness of his rejection.
He took a step back, his hand
dropping to his side. "But Dad,
I just want to..."

But Plankton's antennae remained
stiff, his voice unyielding. "Out," he
repeated, his eye a storm cloud
ready to burst. "You don't get to
stay here after saying that."

Chip's eyes searched his father's,
his own filled with a mix of hurt
and bewilderment. "But Dad," he
whispered, "I don't..."

But Plankton's antennae remained
rigid, his voice like ice. "I said,
OUT." His anger was a palpable
thing in the room, a force that
pushed Chip backward, despite
his father's physical stillness.

With a final look of hurt and
disbelief, Chip turned and left,
his footsteps echoing down the
hallway like the ghosts of all
the moments he had hoped to
share with his father. Plankton
watched him go, his heart a leaden
weight in his chest. Those words 
Chip used might as well be
unforgivable.

Karen's eyes were wide with
concern, but she knew better than
to push him in that moment. She
knew his triggers, and how Chip
inadvertently said the wrong thing.
She knew he actually doesn't want
to bring attention, and
being told his pleas for boundaries
have been called tantrums, by his
own son, in his own room...

Karen knew how his moments of
'twitching' and 'freezes' and 'mishaps'
and 'venting' as he preferred to call
them, being called tantrums...

Plankton closed his eye,
his body trembling with the effort of
holding back his own tears.

Karen approached him cautiously,
her screen filled with worry. "Honey,
are you okay?" she asked, her voice
gentle as a summer breeze.

Plankton's antennae drooped, his body
slumped in the chair. "No," he murmured,
his voice thick with pain. "But I will be."
He took a deep, shuddering breath,
his chest rising and falling like the tides.

Karen watched him, her heart in her
throat. She knew the storm would
pass, but the wreckage it left
behind was always the same. She
reached out a tentative hand, her touch
feather-light on his shoulder. "Do
you want me to explain to Chip?"
she offered, her voice a whisper.

Plankton's antennae twitched, his
body still trembling. "No," he
managed to say, his voice a rasp. His
eye remained closed, his breaths
coming in shallow gasps.

Karen's hand hovered for a
moment before retreating, her
heart breaking for her husband.
"Okay," she murmured, giving him the
space he needed. She knew the
importance of respecting his boundaries
now more than ever. "He just didn't know
how much his wording hurt you.."

"I know," Plankton said, his voice
barely audible. "But that doesn't
make it sting any less." He took
another deep breath, his antennae
twitching with the effort of calming
his racing thoughts.

Karen's hand hovered over him,
wanting to comfort but knowing
not to push. "If he asks, can I tell
him? You know, so he doesn't..."

Plankton's antennae twitched again,
his eye finally opening. "Only if he
specifically asks about it," he said,
his voice stronger now. "Otherwise he 
needs to understand for himself and
figure it out if he wants to help so bad."

Karen nodded, her screen filled with
understanding. She knew her husband's
pride and the importance of their
son coming to terms with his condition
without being forced to. She gave him
a gentle squeeze. "I'll be here," she said.
"For both of you."

The room remained silent
for a long moment, the only sound the
soft ticking of the clock on the wall.
Plankton took another deep breath,
his antennae slowly unfurling. "Thank
you," he murmured, his voice a whisper.

Karen's eyes searched his, her hand
still on his shoulder. "Do you want
to talk about it?" she asked, her voice
a gentle caress.

Plankton took a moment to
consider. The storm in his head
was beginning to abate, the pain
lessening with each passing
second. "I'd just like some
time to myself."

Karen nodded, her screen
filling with love and sadness.
"I'll make sure he doesn't bother
you," she promised, her voice a
soft whisper. She knew how
important it was for Plankton to
have space.

Chip stood in his room, the
closed door a barrier between him
and his father's pain. He felt like
a sea urchin thrown onto the
sharp rocks of misunderstanding,
his spikes no match for the
storm of emotions that had just
erupted. He couldn't help but
wonder if he had made things
worse. He had wanted to connect,
but instead, he had hurt the one
person he loved most.

His mind raced, trying to
piece together the puzzle of his
father's behavior. The words "autism
spectrum" echoed in his thoughts,
a mysterious code he hadn't
known existed. He had heard the
term before, but it had always
been a distant concept, not
something that could affect his
own life. 

He sat down on his bed, his
hands shaking. He felt like he had
just been handed a treasure map
without knowing how to read it. His
dad's condition was a treasure, a
key to understanding the man he
idolized, but the map was written
in a language he hadn't learned.

With each passing second, the
weight of his father's words grew
heavier. He had never thought
about the world from Plankton's
perspective, had never considered that
his touch could be anything but
comforting. The realization hit him
like a tidal wave, knocking the
wind out of him.

new chip and fail Chip Plankton II Sheldon J. Plankton & Chip Plankton II Karen/Chip Plankton II x

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. 

new AI Story Generator karen plankton nothing but the wisdom truth wisdomteethcore wisdomtoothcore i

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."

new AI Story Generator karen plankton nothing but the wisdom truth wisdomteethcore wisdomtoothcore

NOTHING BUT THE WISDOM TRUTH iii

Just as Karen's about to leave the room to let him sleep, the doorbell rang. It was Mr. Krabs, 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.

Karen took the bag gratefully. "Thank you," she whispered. "He's in the living room."

Mr. Krabs nodded again and followed her into the room. He took in the sight of Plankton, sprawled out on the 
couch with his mouth slightly open, snoring softly. "Tough day, eh?" he murmured.
"You have no idea," Karen replied, her voice tinged with exhaustion. She took the gauze out of Plankton's 
swollen cheeks. He stirred but didn't wake.

Mr. Krabs took a seat in the chair opposite the couch, fidgeting nervously. "How's he been?" he asked.

"In and out," Karen replied, watching as Plankton shifted slightly.

Mr. Krabs leaned forward, his eyes narrowing with curiosity. "And what'd they say?"

Karen sighed, the weight of the day settling on her shoulders. "It went well, the doctor said. They had to 
remove all four of his wisdom teeth. It wasn't easy, but he was pretty out of it. They had to give him extra 
sedative."

Mr. Krabs' eyebrows shot up. "Plankton, out of it?"

Karen nodded, a small smile playing on her lips despite the situation. "Just sleeping, drooling a bit.."

Mr. Krabs chuckled quietly. "I think this really knocked him out."

Karen nodded, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "Yeah, he's been pretty out of it  since he went under," she 
whispered. "But it's ok, it's just til the anesthesia wears off."

Mr. Krabs leaned back in his chair, his eyes never leaving Plankton's sleeping form. "I can't believe I'm saying 
this, but...he looks peaceful."

Karen chuckled softly. "He's not one to sit still, so it's definitely a rare sight." She took the bag of ice from Mr. 
Krabs and placed it gently on Plankton's swollen cheek. He didn't even flinch, lost in a world of drug-induced 
slumber.

They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, the only sound being Plankton's rhythmic snores.

Eventually, Plankton's eye opens. "K-Krabs?" he slurred, his voice groggy.

Mr. Krabs jolted upright, his claws clutching the chair's armrests. "Yes, yes, it's me," he said, his voice a mix of 
surprise and awkwardness.

Plankton's eye searched the room, his gaze landing on the bag of ice on his cheek. He reached up to touch it, 
his hand wobbly. "What...happened?"

"You had your wisdom teeth out, honey," Karen said, her voice soothing. "Remember?"

Plankton's expression grew comically confused. "Wish-dish...teef?"

Mr. Krabs coughed, clearing his throat. "Ah, yes, your wisdom teeth," he said. "Yes, those pesky things," he said. 
"But don't worry, they're gone now."

Plankton's eye widened slightly, and he tried to sit up, only to wince in pain. "Oh, wight," he murmured, his hand 
moving to his mouth.

Karen quickly leaned over and pushed him back down gently. "Easy, you need to rest," she said.

Plankton's eye searched the room again before focusing on Mr. Krabs. "K-Krabs?" he slurred, a hint of a smile 
forming. "Youw here?"

Mr. Krabs nodded, his expression a mix of amusement and concern. "Yes, I am. Thought I'd check on my 
favorite...uh, rival."

Karen couldn't help but chuckle at the awkwardness, but Plankton's face lit up. "You're my best fwiend," he 
slurred, his arm reaching out to pat Mr. Krabs' hand.

Mr. Krabs looked down at the small, tentacle-like hand on his arm, and for a brief moment, his usual stern 
expression softened. "Plankton, I...I'm just here to check on you," he said, his voice gruff but not unkind.

Plankton's smile grew wider, his one eye shining with what could only be described as affection. "Mr. Kwabs, 
you're the best," he slurred, his voice thick with the remnants of the anesthesia.

Mr. Krabs looked at Karen, his beady eyes wide with surprise. "Is he...is he okay?" he whispered.

Karen nodded, her own smile growing. "It's just the anesthesia. He'll be back to his usual self in no time."

Plankton's hand remained on Mr. Krabs' arm, his grip tightening slightly. 
Mr. Krabs' shell flushed, unused to such affection from his nemesis. "Th-thank you, Plankton," he stuttered. "Just get some rest now." 
Just something endearing about Plankton's vulnerability in this state. She knew Mr. 
Krabs felt it too, his gruff exterior melting away like the ice on Plankton's cheek.

"Mr. Kwabs," Plankton mumbled again.

Mr. Krabs cleared his throat, his pinchers fidgeting with the chair's armrest. "Yes, Plankton?"

"Can you...tell me a stowwy?" Plankton's voice was barely audible, his one eye pleading.

Mr. Krabs' eyebrows shot up. "A story?" he repeated, surprised.

"It'd help him relax," Karen shrugs. "Just something simple."

Mr. Krabs took a deep breath, his mind racing for a suitable tale. "Once upon a time," he began, his voice softer 
than usual, "there was a tiny plankton named... Sheldon."

Plankton's eye fluttered open, a smile spreading across his swollen face. "Thath's me!" he exclaimed, his voice 
still slurred.

Mr. Krabs chuckled, his usual stern expression replaced with a warm smile. "Indeed it is," he said, his eyes 
crinkling at the edges. He took a deep breath and continued, "Sheldon Plankton lived in a big, blue sea. And he 
had the most amazing plan."

Plankton's eye remained open, focusing on Mr. Krabs as best he could. "Whath's the plan?" he mumbled.

Mr. Krabs paused, surprised by Plankton's interest. "Well, Plankton had the most ingenious plan to become the 
best chef in the sea," he said, his voice taking on a storytelling lilt.

Plankton's eye fluttered, his gaze fixed on Mr. Krabs. "Chef?" he repeated, his voice a hopeful murmur.

Mr. Krabs nodded, his smile growing. "Yes, a chef," he said. "And every day, Sheldon would try new recipes, 
searching for the perfect Krabby Patty secret."

Plankton's grip on Mr. Krabs' tightened.

"Mr. Kwabs," he slurred again, his voice thick with emotion. "You're...you're the besht...the beth...chef."

Mr. Krabs blinked, his eyes misting over. It was the closest thing to a compliment he had ever received from 
Plankton, and it was enough to make his heart swell. "Why, thank you, Plankton," he said, his voice cracking slightly.

Karen watched the scene unfold with a warm smile. It was clear that despite their rivalry, Plankton looked up 
to Mr. Krabs in some way. It anesthetic loopiness was a side of him she had never seen before. "You...you're 
wike a fath-ther to me," he mumbled, his grip on Mr. Krabs' arm tightening.

Mr. Krabs was taken aback, his claws patting Plankton's awkwardly. "Plankton," he said, his voice thick with 
emotion. "You're like...a...a...uh, a...uh, a...challenge," he finished lamely, not quite able to express the feelings 
that Plankton's words had stirred in him.

Plankton's smile grew, his one eye gleaming with happiness. "I wike you."

Mr. Krabs nodded, his heart feeling lighter than it had in a long time. "So, Sheldon Plankton," he began, his 
voice soothing. "He worked tirelessly, trying to outdo the Krabby Patty with his own secret recipe."

Plankton's head lolled back against Mr. Krabs' arm, his breathing growing shallower. His grip on Mr. Krabs' 
hand loosened, and his eyelid began to droop again. Mr. Krabs noticed the change and paused his story, 
watching him carefully.

"Don't stop," Karen whispered, brimming with tears. "It's helping him relax."

Mr. Krabs nodded, understanding the unspoken request. He took a deep breath and resumed the tale. "But no 
matter how hard Sheldon Plankton tried, he just couldn't crack the code. One day, he stumbled upon an 
ancient scroll..." Mr. Krabs' voice droned on. Plankton's breathing grew more rhythmic, his grip on Mr. Krabs' 
arm loosening. His head slowly sank against Mr. Krabs' chest, and his eye closed completely. Mr. Krabs felt 
the weight of his rival, his own heart beating a little faster. He'd never had Plankton this close, this...trusting.

The room grew quiet, only the occasional snore from Plankton piercing the silence. Mr. Krabs paused in his 
storytelling, his pinchers hovering over the bowl of soup. He looked down at Plankton, his expression a mix of 
confusion and something else. Something he couldn't quite put his claw on.

"Should we get him to bed?" he whispered to Karen.

"Yes," she said, pixelated eyes shining with unshed tears. "Let's get him comfortable."

They carefully lifted Plankton from the couch. Karen picked up Spot, cradling him in her arms as they moved 
to the bedroom.

Mr. Krabs took the lead. Plankton's snores grew louder as they climbed the stairs, each step a test of their 
coordination.

Karen followed closely behind, her eyes never leaving Plankton's peaceful face. She couldn't remember the 
last time she had seen him so at ease, so vulnerable. It was a side of him she had rarely glimpsed, and it filled 
her with a warmth she hadn't expected.

They laid Plankton down gently, his body sinking into the mattress with a sigh. Spot squirmed in Karen's arms, 
sensing the shift in his owner's condition. She placed the amoeba pup on the bed beside Plankton, who 
automatically curled into the warm blob, his snores growing quieter.

Mr. Krabs hovered over the bed, his claws twitching as he surveyed the scene. "Is he...is he okay?" he asked, 
his voice a whisper.

Karen nodded, a gentle smile playing on her lips. "He's just sleeping," she assured him. "Thanks for staying."

Mr. Krabs nodded, his eyes lingering on the sleeping Plankton. "Of course," he said gruffly. "Can't have you two 
dealing with this alone."
Karen tucked the blankets around him, smoothing out the wrinkles with a gentle hand.

new AI Story Generator nothing but the wisdom truth plabsen

NOTHING BUT THE WISDOM TRUTH iv

"Thanks for staying." Mr. Krabs nodded, his eyes lingering on the sleeping Plankton. "Of course," he said 
gruffly. "Can't have you two dealing it alone." Karen tucked the blankets around him, smoothing out the 
wrinkles with a gentle hand.

The next day, Plankton woke, all traces of 
anesthesia worn off, cheeks tender to the touch. He vaguely remembered surgery, but 
everything after was a blur.
"Morning," Karen said. She sat beside the bed, her 
screen warm with concern. "How are you feeling?"

Plankton blinked. "K-Karen?" he asked. 
"Whath's...what happened?"

"You had wisdom teeth removed, darling," she said softly. "You're going 
to be fine."

The memory of surgery rushed back to Plankton in fragments—the 
operating room, machines, and then Karen holding his hand as he woke up. Wincing, he 
reached to tentatively touch his swollen face, the pain a reminder of his ordeal.

Karen noticed his discomfort and handed him water. "Take it slow," she advised, watching 
him intently. Plankton took a sip, the cool liquid soothing. He leaned back into the pillows with a 
sigh.

"Do you remember surgery?" she asked, stroking his arm.

"It's all a bit fuzzy," he admitted. "Just going in, waking up. Going in the car to drive home? But 
nothing else.."

The surgery had gone well. Karen knew Plankton and Krabs had a frenemy relationship, at best; but she had 
never considered the 
possibility that Plankton could harbor any genuine feelings for the crab, delirious or not. Now, as she watched 
him 
suffer, she debated whether to tell him. Would it help? Would it hurt? She didn't know.

But Plankton's curiosity was piqued. "What's going on?" he asked, trying to read her expression. "Did I 
do something weird?"

"It's nothing," she said, forcing a laugh. "Just 
the usual post-surgery confusion."

Plankton's eye wandered around the room, and his gaze landed on a bouquet of jellyfish on the nightstand.
"Who sent those?" he asked, his voice still hoarse.

Karen looked at the jellyfish, then back at him. "Mr. Krabs," she said.

Plankton's eyebrow shot up. "Krabs? Why would he send me jellyfish?" Plankton's eye narrowed slightly. "Does 
he know about the surgery?" he asked, a hint of concerned horror in his voice.

Karen nodded, "I didn't know who else to turn to," she said, her voice filled with a mix of gratitude and 
trepidation, her voice wavering slightly, "after you were admitted, I called him. I didn't know who else to call for 
help. You know, with the recovery necessities."

Plankton felt his stomach drop. He had hoped that his arch-nemesis, Mr. Krabs, had been blissfully unaware 
of his weakened state. The thought of Krabs even knowing he was laid up and helpless was more than he 
could bear.

"You called Krabs?" he croaked, disbelief etched into his features.

Karen nodded again, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. "He was the only one I could think of who could 
help us. And he was so kind, Plankton. He didn't even make fun of you."

Plankton's mind raced. The mere thought of Krabs seeing him in such a vulnerable condition was almost too 
much to handle. He had always prided himself on being the smarter, more cunning one, the one who could outwit 
Krabs at every turn. Now, here he was, unable to chew, looking like a balloon with legs, and being 
witnessed by the very crab he had spent his life trying to outdo.

"What did he see?" Plankton managed to ask, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice.

Karen looked surprised. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, what did he see me?" Plankton's voice grew more urgent, the fear of humiliation coloring 
his words.

"He saw you sleeping," she said gently. "But you were out of it. You don't have to worry about him."

Plankton felt a wave of embarrassment. "How did I look?"

"Looked like you were sleeping peacefully," Karen said, trying to reassure him. But she knew that wasn't 
what he wanted to hear. He wanted to hear that he looked strong, in control, not like the blubbering mess he 
actually was.

Plankton sighed, the sound a sad, defeated hiss. "I can't believe you called him," he said, his voice filled with a 
mix of pain and annoyance.

Karen's hand tightened on his shoulder. "I had to," she said firmly. "You needed someone, and he was the only 
one I could think of who would help."

Plankton's gaze fell to the bouquet of jellyfish. "I hope I didn't budge or talk?" he asked, his voice tight.

Karen squeezed his hand. "You were completely out of it," she assured him. "He said you looked tired."

Plankton's eye searched hers for any hint of mockery, but all he found was sincerity. He took a deep breath, 
the pain in his cheeks flaring up, and nodded. He knew he had to accept help, but the thought of Krabs 
knowing he was down, even for a moment, was maddening.

He shifted, trying to find a position that didn't make his mouth throb. "What else happened, with 
Krabs?" he asked, his voice strained.

"He just dropped off the jellyfish and said to tell you to get better soon," Karen said, not giving answers. "I've 
said all I can say."

The silence grew tense as Plankton's mind whirled with scenarios of what Krabs might have seen or heard. He 
knew his rival had a knack exploiting weakness, and he couldn't let his guard down, even in a state like 
this. He had to recover quickly, be sharp, to ensure that Krabs didn't use this moment of vulnerability 
against him. He also knew Karen's not gonna tell him whatever went down.

Karen, noticing his discomfort, decided to change the subject. "I'll go grab some ice cream for you," she 
offered, standing up. "It'll help with the swelling, but don't do anything foolish while I'm gone."

Plankton nodded, his thoughts racing. As soon as the door clicked shut behind her, he began to formulate a 
plan. He had to speak to Krabs, to make sure there were no misunderstandings, no ammo for future taunts. 
Wincing, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, using the momentum to stand up. He wobbled for a 
moment, his head spinning, but steadied himself against the wall.

In his office at the krusty krab, Mr. Krabs sat at the table, sipping a cup of tea and staring at the floor. He had 
hoped Plankton's odd behavior was just the drugs talking, but deep down, he couldn't shake the feeling that 
something had shifted between them. He had felt a strange warmth when Plankton had called him 'my 
dearest friend' in his delirious state. But friends? That was a concept that seemed as foreign to him as a day 
without the Krabby Patty.

He sighed, setting the cup down. It was nonsense, of course. Plankton was just confused. He had to be. After 
all, they had spent years in a cutthroat competition, stealing ideals, customers, the occasional secret 
ingredient. The thought of Plankton actually caring for him was absurd. But as he sat, Krabs couldn't help but 
feel a twinge of something he hadn't felt in a long time—awkward.

But Plankton wasn't one to let things go easily. After a few moments of gathering his strength, he shuffled out 
of the bedroom, the pain in his mouth a distant second to the urgency of his mission. He goes to the Krusty 
Krab.

He pushed open the door to the restaurant, the bell jingling overhead.

Mr. Krabs looked up from his ledger, his heart skipping a beat as he saw Plankton stumble in. "What are you 
doing here?" he exclaimed, jumping to his feet. "You should be resting!"

Plankton's eye narrowed, his jaw clenched in pain. "I need to talk to you," he ground out, each word a 
challenge.

Mr. Krabs' claws clutched the edge of the table, twitching nervously. "Sure, sure," he said, trying to sound 
casual. "What's on your mind?"

"Not here," Plankton hissed, gesturing to the open restaurant. The last thing he wanted was for their 
conversation to be overheard by prying ears, especially not by customers.

Mr. Krabs, visibly confused, nodded and led him out back. The tension in the air was palpable.

"Alright, what's so important?" he asked, trying to keep his cool.

Plankton took a deep breath, his cheeks flushing with pain. "What did I say to you after the surgery?" he 
demanded, his voice gruff.

"What do you mean?" he stalled, heart racing.

Plankton's voice was low and intense. "You know what I mean," he said. "What happened at the house?"

Mr. Krabs' eyes searched Plankton's for any hint of a bluff, but found only pain and determination. He took a 
deep breath, feeling the weight of his secret lift slightly. "You don't remember?" he asked, a glimmer of hope in 
his eyes.

Plankton's gaze was unwavering. "I remember enough," he said, voice tight. "I just know you were there. 
Don't gloat. Spill."

Mr. Krabs looked at him, realization sinking in. He met Plankton's gaze. "You were in a bit of pain," he said, his 
voice carefully measured. "You were talking nonsense."

"What kind of nonsense?" he demanded.

Mr. Krabs took a step back, his eyes darting around the alleyway. "Oh, you know, the usual post-surgery 
babble," he said, trying to play it off. "Nothing important."

But Plankton wasn't buying it. He could see relief in Krabs' eyes, and it made him more nervous.

"I need to know," he insisted, his voice hoarse. "What did I say?"

Mr. Krabs took a deep breath, his claws drumming on the counter. "Said something about how we've been 
through a lot together?"

But Pearl, Mr. Krabs' daughter, interrupted, wandering in, phone in hand, scrolling through images.

"Daddy!" she exclaimed. "Look what I found on the phone!"

Mr. Krabs' heart sank as he realized what's happening. He turned to see Pearl holding up a phone showing a 
photo of Plankton, post-surgery, asleep with his head resting on Krabs' elbow.

new AI Story Generator nothing but the wisdom truth plabsen

NOTHING BUT THE WISDOM TRUTH v

"I need to know," he insisted, his voice hoarse. "What did I say?"

Mr. Krabs took a deep breath, his claws drumming on the counter. "Something about how we've been 
through a lot?"

But Pearl, Mr. Krabs' daughter, interrupted, wandering in, phone in hand, scrolling through images.

"Daddy!" she exclaimed. "Look what I found on the phone!"

Mr. Krabs' heart sank as he realized what's happening. He turned to see Pearl holding up a phone showing a 
photo of Plankton, post-surgery, asleep with his head resting on Krabs' elbow as Plankton's arm was slung around him. The expression on Plankton's face was one of complete peace, with his mouth hanging open slightly, a stark contrast to the fiery look in his eye now.

"Oh, Plankton!" Pearl exclaimed, spotting him standing there. "You look so cute sleeping all snuggled up to Daddy! You even drooled a bit on Dad's shirt! It's gone viral, and it got me more views!"

The whale's innocent revelation hit the two like a ton of bricks.

Mr. Krabs' eyes bulged, and his claws shot up to cover his mouth. "Pearl, what in Neptune's name are you doing with me phone?" he spluttered, his voice tight with panic.

Pearl looked up, her cheery demeanor unchanged. "Oh, I just borrowed it to send myself, which I forwarded to post. Didn't you know you had this adorable selfie with Plankton?" She giggled, unaware of the tension in the air.

Plankton's shocked mind was a blur, trying to piece together the reality of the moment. He looked from the photo to Mr. Krabs and back again, utterly speechless. The sight of himself in such a compromising position with his enemy was surreal. His mind raced, trying to remember any semblance of a conversation that could have led to this bizarre scenario.

Mr. Krabs' face was a mask of horror, his claws fumbling for words. "It's not what it looks like," he stammered.

But Plankton was beyond speech. The image of himself, in such a vulnerable state, nestled against Mr. Krabs was burned into his retina. His mind reeled, trying to grasp the reality of the situation. All the bravado, all the plotting and scheming, reduced to this: a mushy, love-struck expression shared with his mortal enemy.

"You... you..." Plankton sputtered, his voice failing him.

Mr. Krabs reached for the phone, his claws trembling. "It's just... a... a... I don't know what it is!"

But Pearl was already skipping away, chuckling to herself. "You guys are so cute together!" she called over her shoulder, oblivious to the storm brewing between them.

Mr. Krabs looked at Plankton, his expression a mix of horror and pleading. "It's not what it looks like," he repeated, his voice cracking.

But Plankton was too far gone. The embarrassment and anger were a red haze in front of his eye.

Neither of them knew how to navigate this sudden shift in their dynamic. The air was thick with tension and confusion, punctuated only by the distant sound of the ocean.

Plankton's burning with a mix of anger and embarrassment. He could feel the swelling in his mouth and the weight of Mr. Krabs' secret pressing down on him like a lead balloon.

Mr. Krabs, on the other hand, was frozen, his eyes darting from the phone to Plankton's face and back again. He knew he had to say something, do something, to fix this mess before it spun out of control. But what?

Plankton's thoughts were racing, a tornado of rage and humiliation swirling in his head. He had to get out of there, to think, to figure out what this all meant. With a snarl, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the Krusty Krab, slamming. His footsteps echoed off the cobblestone as he made his way back to the chum bucket, his mind racing with questions.

Karen arrived home with a tub of mint chocolate chip ice cream, humming to herself, oblivious to the drama just unfolded.

"Honey, I'm home!" she called out cheerfully, finding Plankton in bed.

Karen stepped into the bedroom, her eyes lighting up at the sight of Plankton.

"Look what I got you," she sang, holding up the ice cream.

But Plankton's eye were glued to the door, his mind a maelstrom of emotions. He couldn't look at her, not without giving away the turmoil inside.

"You're supposed to be resting," Karen chided gently, setting the ice cream on the nightstand. "I thought you'd be resting."

Plankton's gaze remained fixed on the door, his thoughts a tangled mess. He couldn't bring himself to look at her, not yet.

Karen's smile faltered as she noticed his distant gaze. "What's wrong, dear?" she asked, setting the ice cream on the nightstand.

Plankton took a deep breath, his thoughts racing. He didn't know how to tell her about the photo, about the way Mr. Krabs had looked at him. He couldn't bear the thought of her pity, or worse, her laughter. "Nothing," he said, his voice tight. "Just tired."

Karen's smile returned, and she leaned over to kiss his forehead. "You've had a long day yesterday," she said.

But Plankton's mind was elsewhere. He couldn't shake the image of himself with Mr. Krabs from his head. The photo was like a taunting specter, a constant reminder of his vulnerability.

"You oughtta eat," Karen said, her voice filled with concern. She picked up the spoon and began to scoop out a small bite of the mint chocolate chip.

Plankton turned to face her, his expression unreadable. But the words stuck in his throat like a mouthful of dry chum. He swallowed hard, then opened his mouth, letting her gently guide the spoon inside. The cold ice cream soothed his sore gums, but the bitter taste of his situation lingered.

As Karen fed him, Plankton couldn't help but feel a pang of regret for not confiding in her immediately. But what could he say? That he apparently must've had a moment of weakness, and Mr. Krabs had seen it all? That his arch-nemesis had cradled him like a baby and whispered sweet nothings? No, he already figured out how she didn't take her life later eyes off him at all yesterday, knowing she must've seen.

He took the spoon, his hand shaking slightly. "I can do it," he murmured, trying to regain some semblance of control.

Karen watched him with a worried gaze as he took a tentative bite, his cheeks still red from the encounter. She could sense something was amiss, but she didn't push it. She knew Plankton well enough to know that he can tell her if or when he was ready.

The silence in the room was thick, punctuated only by the soft clink of the spoon against the plastic tub. Karen's mind was racing, trying to piece together what could have happened since she left to get ice cream.

"Plankton," she began, her voice soft. "Is there something you want to tell me?"

He looked up, his eye a swirl of emotions. But the words remained lodged in his throat. He couldn't tell her about the photo, about Mr. Krabs' kindness, about the way it made him feel. It was too much, too raw.

Instead, he just shook his head. "Just... processing."

Karen studied Plankton's face, her aching for her husband. She knew he wasn't one to easily admit defeat, and the surgery had clearly taken a toll. "Well," she said gently. "If you need anything, I'm here."

Plankton nodded, his gaze dropping to the half-eaten tub of ice cream. His thoughts were a whirlwind of confusion and anger. He had to figure out what to do with this newfound information about Mr. Krabs. The very idea that he might have acted up in front of his enemy, even in a drugged state, was unbearable, let alone not knowing or remembering anything.

A few hours later, Karen decided to check her phone, which had been buzzing with notifications. She saw that she had missed several messages from Pearl, Mr. Krabs' daughter, and clicked open the chat with a mix of curiosity and annoyance. But what she found? The photo of Plankton, post-surgery and vulnerable, with Mr. Krabs' arm around him was plastered all over her social media feeds. It had gone viral, with captions ranging from "Plankton's new BFF" to "When your enemy becomes your nurse."
Plankton had seen the photo, and it was eating away at him. She knew her husband's pride and competitive nature; this was a blow he wouldn't take lightly. She set the phone down, her mind racing with ways to help him. She needed to comfort him, to make him see that this moment of weakness didn't define him.

Taking a deep breath, she approached the bedroom door, the smell of mint chocolate chip ice cream wafting from within. She gently pushed the door open, her eyes immediately finding Plankton's hunched form in the bed. His gaze was fixed on the wall, his expression a storm of emotions.
"Plankton," she said again, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I saw the photo."

He flinched, his eye snapping to hers with accusation.

Karen sighed, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "Pearl sent it," she admitted. "It's everywhere. I'm sorry."
Karen took his hand, her touch gentle but firm. "You're more than a photo, Plankton," she said. "You're a brilliant scientist, a loving husband, and a formidable adversary. This doesn't change that."

But Plankton couldn't see it. All he could see was mockery and humiliation that awaited him outside the safety of their chum bucket. "I can't let him think he's won," he murmured, his voice laced with pain.

Mr. Krabs picked up the phone and dialed Karen's number, his heart racing with every ring. When she finally answered, he took a deep breath. "It's Krabs," he said, his voice gruff but earnest. "I need to talk to Plankton."

Karen's tone was wary. "What for?"

Mr. Krabs swallowed his pride. "I... I just want to make sure he's okay," he said.

Karen's voice softened. "He's not in a good place right now," she admitted. "But I'll pass the message along."

 "Tell him... tell him I didn't mean to embarrass him," he said, with regret. "And that I'm sorry for... everything."

Karen's expression softened. "I'll let him know," she said before hanging up.

new AI Story Generator nothing but the wisdom truth

LEGGY i


Plankton had an accident and needed surgery on his leg. 
SpongeBob and Patrick decided to pay 
him a visit.
Their friend lay in the hospital bed, anesthetized, snoring softly.
"Thank you," Karen said. "We 
appreciate it. They had to reset the bone and sew it 
back together. He won't feel 
anything now, but once the anesthesia wears off, 
he'll be in some pain. Your support means a lot to 
us.” "How long does he have to stay 
asleep?" he asked.
"Awhile," she said. "It's important for him 
to rest and recover. Plankton might be a bit...overwhelmed 
when he wakes up. He might 
not be able to respond right now." "What's that?" he 
pointed at the intravenous drip attached to 
Plankton's arm.

"That's the anesthesia, what keeps him 
asleep during the surgery so he doesn't feel any 
pain."

Patrick's eyes grew wide with wonder. 
"What's that like?"
"Well, it's like 
being in a deep sleep," she began, "you 
don't feel 
anything, and when you wake up, it's like 
you never 
left your bed."
His chest rises and falls with each gentle 
snore, a sound that echoes faintly in the 
quiet room. 
"Karen, why’s he snoring?"

"It's his body's way of breathing while 
asleep. He’s in a deep sleep."

The lead doctor came. "We're going to start 
bringing him out of it now. He'll be coming 
out of anesthesia soon."

Eventually Plankton's eye fluttered open, looking up at them with a glazed expression before his pupil focused. "Wha...where...what happened?" he stuttered, his voice groggy.
"Why does everything feel...so...floaty?"
he asked, his voice trailing off as he tried to 
lift his head, and it 
flopped back down onto the pillow. "Whoa, ship's a-rockin'!" he exclaimed. 
"Weeeee!" he giggled. "A Krabby Patty...no, 
a Krabby Patty...no, wait, a Krabby...a 
Krabby...a Krabby..." His words trailed off 
to nonsense, and he started to giggle 
uncontrollably.
"He'll be fine, just let him talk it out." 
"I need...I 
need...a...a...Krabby...P...P...Patty!"
He giggled again, his mind still a bit foggy. "Look, friends! Look at me go!"
The doctor and nurse entered the room, checking 
Plankton's vitals and smiling at his 
slurred words. "He's coming out of it 
normally," the doctor assured them. "You can 
keep talking to him, it'll help him come back to 
reality."

SpongeBob and Patrick exchanged glances. 
"Krabby Patty, huh?" Sponge Bob said. "Well, I'm sure we can 
find you one once you're feeling 
better." Plankton giggled again, eye
drifted to the side. "But for now, let's 
just focus on getting you well, okay?"

The doctor nodded. "He'll be in and out of 
consciousness for a bit. It's perfectly 
normal."
Patrick leaned in closer to Plankton. "You 
hear that, Plankton? We're here for you, buddy.” He hands him some water. 
"Ahh," he 
sighed, eye fluttering shut again. "Krabby...Patty...water...good."
“You just rest up, and we'll grab you a Krabby 
Patty when you're all fixed." Plankton's giggles 
turned into snores again, his eyelid drooping 
closed.
The doctor chuckled. "It's the medication. 
He'll be in and out like this for a little 
while. Just keep talking to him, it'll help 
keep him grounded."
The door to the hospital room creaked open, and 
Mr. Krabs poked his head in. "Sponge Bob! Patrick!" he bellowed. 
Mr. Krabs' eyes narrowed as he took in the 
sight of Plankton in the hospital bed. "Heard 
about the accident," he said gruffly. "Thought I'd
 check on the little scram."

Plankton's eye snapped open again, 
his expression shifting. "Krabs!" he hissed. "What are you 
doing?"

Mr. Krabs waved a dismissive claw. "Just 
makin' sure my number one competitor is 
out of commission," he said with a smirk.
"But it seems you're in good company."

"Mr. Krabs, we're here 
to support Plankton. He's had a rough 
day."

Mr. Krabs' smirk grew. "Ah, yes, the great 
Plankton, laid low by his own incompetence. 
Couldn't even steal a Krabby Patty without 
breaking a leg."

The room grew tense as Plankton's 
face reddened, his tiny fists balling up the 
hospital sheets. "It wasn't like that, Krabs," 
he protested, his voice strained. "It was an 
accident!"

But Mr. Krabs was relentless. "Always an 
accident with you, isn't it?" He chuckled, 
his tone mocking. "You're as clumsy as you 
are small."

Sponge Bob took a deep breath, his heart 
swelling with hope. "Mr. Krabs, now's 
not the best time to tease him. Plankton's 
really hurting."

The tension grew thicker than a 
Kelp Shake. Plankton's tiny frame quivered 
with indignation. The anesthesia, however, 
was playing tricks on his emotions. He 
could feel the tears welling up in his 
eye, and before he knew it, they were 
spilling over, down his 
cheeks.

"Ah, don't listen to him, Plankton," Sponge Bob 
whispered, his own eyes growing misty. 
"You're not incompetent. It was just an 
accident."
Karen's screen flickered. "Mr. 
Krabs, please. He's not well."
"I don't need pity, 
Krabs!" he spat out, his voice filled with 
embarrassment.
Karen's screen flickered again. "Mr. Krabs, 
he needs space. He'll be in and out 
of it for a bit longer, but perhaps he'd appreciate 
the visit when fully conscious." Mr. Krabs then left. 
Plankton's 
breathing grew even, and his eye began to 
droop. "I think he's falling asleep," Patrick 
whispers. 
"Alright, he's all set to go 
home.."

They nodded solemnly, eager to get their friend 
back to his safe haven, the Chum Bucket. Carefully, 
they helped him into a wheelchair, his sleepy 
head lolling onto Sponge Bob's shoulder. "Mmm, 
Krabby Patty," he murmured, 
his mumbled voice trailing off into a snore.
Patrick held the car door open as Sponge Bob 
gently maneuvered Plankton, trying not to jostle him much. 
He snored quietly, his body 
still feeling the effects of anesthesia.
They buckled him into the back seat, 
his head lolling to the side as SpongeBob sat by him. The car's gentle vibrations and the soft 
hum of the engine lulled Plankton further into 
his slumber. His snores grew 
louder, echoing through the car. Sponge 
Bob watched him, his heart aching at the sight of 
his friend. He reached over and patted 
his arm reassuringly. "It's okay, Plankton," he 
whispered. "You're going to be ok."

The drive to the Chum Bucket was quiet, 
punctuated only by Plankton's intermittent 
snoring and the occasional burst of 
slurred words. "Karen...chum...water... 
Krabby Patty...friend," he would murmur, 
his voice a gentle reminder of the person 
behind the villain.
"Chum...Karen...Krabs...Sponge...Bob...Patrick...Krabby Patty...Karen...chum...chum...chum..."

Sponge Bob and Patrick shared a look in the 
rearview mirror, their expressions a mix of 
concern and amusement. "It's like he's 
having a conversation with himself," Patrick 
whispered.

"Must be anesthesia," Sponge Bob said, 
his voice low so as not to disturb Plankton. "He'd 
probably remember none of it when he wakes 
up."
Once they arrived at the Chum Bucket, they 
carefully transferred Plankton to his bed, 
snores becoming less frequent and more 
rhythmic as he slipped into a deeper sleep. 
They left him with a glass of water and a 
bowl of chum for when he awoke, feeling a bit 
of relief knowing he was home and safe.
Hours later, Plankton's snoring 
finally ceased, and he blinked his eye 
open, feeling a dull ache in his leg, Sponge Bob and Patrick sitting by his bed in his bedroom. "What’s...what 
happened?" he asked.

"You had surgery, Plankton. 
Remember? You hurt your leg pretty badly."

"Surgery?" he repeated, his voice still thick with sleep. 
"I had surgery?" He glanced down at his bandaged leg, the memory of the accident slowly coming back to him. "Oh, right."

Patrick's eyes lit up. "Oh, you were out of it, buddy!“

Plankton's smile faded as he took in his surroundings. "How long?"

"A few hours," Sponge Bob said. "But don't worry, Karen's in the lab, just in case you need anything."

Patrick leaned in closer, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "You should've seen it, Plankton! You were snoring!"

Sponge Bob playfully elbowed him. "Pat.."

Patrick couldn't contain himself. "And when Mr. Krabs came in, oh boy!" He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "You started crying!"

Plankton's embarrassment morphing into anger. "That's not funny, Patrick." he snapped, his voice sharp.

Patrick nodded, with mirth. “Oh yeah, you were talking in your sleep, Plankton; you’re like, 'Krabby Patty...Chum...Karen...Patrick...Sponge Bob...'!"

Plankton's frown deepened as he tried to sit up, only to wince in pain. "Krabby Patties?"

"You'd get all excited about your latest plan, and then—just like that," SpongeBob said, snapping his fingers, as Patrick pretended to snore loudly.
Plankton's eye widened. "No?"

But Patrick had to prove Plankton's sleep-talking escapade. Patrick's laughter was contagious, and even Sponge Bob couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of Plankton's dazed expression. Plankton's sleep-addled face, his mouth moving in a slurred chant and the occasional snort that punctuated his words.
Patrick tried to mimic Plankton's slurred speech, which only made him giggle more.
"You're even drooling!" he exclaimed.

Sponge Bob's laughter grew quiet, feeling a twinge of pity for Plankton's embarrassment. "Patrick, maybe we should calm down," he suggested gently.

"Come on, Plankton," he said. "You've got to admit, this is gold!"
"Could you two at least get me something to eat?" he asked, his voice a mix of annoyance and defeat.

Sponge Bob nodded, eager to change the subject. "Of course, Plankton. What would you like?"

"Just...chum," Plankton mumbled, his face still flushed with embarrassment.
Patrick's laughter grew louder. "Oh, come on, Plankton. You can't be serious right now!" He pretended to snore loudly, then added in a pitched voice, "Krabby Patty! Krabby Patty!"

Sponge Bob couldn't help but chuckle. "Patrick, maybe we should—"

But Patrick was in full jesting mode, his voice rising in pitch to mimic Plankton's. "Krabby Patty...chum...Krabby Patty...chum..."

new AI Story Generator patbob leggy

NOTHING BUT THE WISDOM TRUTH vii

Krabs' eyes darted between the two of them, fidgeting. "If... if there's anything I can do," he offered, his voice trailing off.

Karen gave him a small smile, filled with gratitude. "I think we've got it from here," she said. "But thank you for caring."

Krabs nodded, his gaze lingering on Plankton's form before he turned to leave. As the door clicked shut behind him, the weight of the conversation settled heavily on the room. Plankton's eye remained on the spot where Mr. Krabs had stood, thoughts racing.

Karen approached the bed, her movements deliberate and calm. She picked up the discarded ice pack and handed it to him. "Here," she said, her voice soothing. "Your face is still a bit swollen."

Plankton took the ice pack and presses it against his cheek. "I can't believe this," he murmured, his voice muffled by the cold compress. "How could I have said those things?"

Karen sat down beside him, her eyes filled with understanding. "You were in pain," she said gently. "And under the influence of medication. It's not like you."

Plankton's hand curled around the ice pack, his gaze distant. "But why would I say those things?" he murmured. "Why would I thank him?"

Karen took a deep breath, choosing her words carefully. "Pain and medication can bring out the truth," she said. "Maybe, deep down, you do appreciate his help, even if you can't admit it."

Plankton scoffed, but there was a hint of doubt in his eye. "Appreciate him?" he snapped. "He's the reason I'm in this mess!"

Karen squeezed his hand, her voice calm. "But he's also the one who brought you jellyfish for your pain," she reminded him. "And who checked on you after the surgery."

Plankton looked at her. "What?"

"Mr. Krabs brought jellyfish for your recovery," Karen repeated, her voice steady. "And he was genuinely concerned about you, when you were in pain."

Plankton couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Why?" he asked, his voice filled with confusion.

Karen squeezed his hand again. "Because maybe, just maybe, there's more to Mr. Krabs than you give him credit for," she said softly. "Maybe he's not just your enemy. Maybe he's also someone who cares."

Plankton's hands tightened around the ice pack, his mind racing with the implications. Could it be true? Did Mr. Krabs actually care for him? The thought was as foreign as a pineapple under the sea.

Karen stood, her screen never leaving Plankton's face. "I'll give you some space," she said gently. "But know that I'm here if you need to talk."

Plankton nodded, his gaze still fixed on the spot where Mr. Krabs had been standing. Karen left the room, closing the door behind her.

Alone with his thoughts, Plankton felt a strange mix of anger, confusion, and a peculiar warmth he hadn't expected. He'd never thought of Mr. Krabs as anything more than a cunning adversary, always one step ahead in their endless pursuit of the Krabby Patty secret. Yet, here he was, with a bouquet of jellyfish and a heartfelt apology.

The room was silent, save for the distant sounds of Bikini Bottom's hustle and bustle filtering through the chum bucket's walls. Plankton's mind was a whirlwind of questions and doubt. He had always prided himself on his sharp intellect and strategic thinking, but this turn of events had left him utterly blindsided.

"Maybe," he murmured to himself, the word echoing in the quiet space. "Maybe there's more to this crusty old crab than I ever thought."

The next few days passed in a blur of painkillers and awkward silence. Plankton couldn't bring himself to visit the Krusty Krab again, and Mr. Krabs made no further attempts to contact him. The photo remained a sore subject, a viral joke that seemed to follow him wherever he went. Yet, amidst the embarrassment, Plankton found himself contemplating Karen's words.

One evening, as the sun set over the Bikini Bottom horizon, casting a warm orange glow through the chum bucket's windows, Plankton decided to take a walk. He needed to clear his head, to think things through without the constant pressure of his swollen jaw. The boardwalk was quieter than usual, the distant laughter and clinking of dishes from the nearby restaurants a gentle background to his racing thoughts.

As he strolled, he couldn't help but notice the way the jellyfish in Mr. Krabs' bouquet had brightened the dullness of their home. They glowed with a warmth that was strangely comforting. He found himself at the edge of the pier, staring out at the sea, lost in thought.

"Hey, Plankton.."

The sudden shout snapped Plankton out of his thoughts, and he turned to find Mr. Krabs standing a few feet away, his expression a mix of trepidation and determination.

"Krabs," Plankton said, his voice tight.

Mr. Krabs approached slowly, his eyes on the jellyfish in Plankton's hand. "How's the mouth?" he asked, his tone cautious.

Plankton's tentacles tightened around the glowing creature. "Better," he murmured, his voice still a bit slurred.

Mr. Krabs nodded, his eyes on the jellyfish. "They do have a way of... making things feel better, don't they?" he ventured, his voice tentative.

Plankton studied the jellyfish, its mesmerizing glow illuminating his face. "They do," he conceded.

Mr. Krabs took a step closer, his claws clasped nervously in front of him. "Look, Plankton," he began. "I know things have been... strained between us lately. But I just wanted to say that I don't hold any ill will over what happened."

Plankton's grip loosened slightly, his gaze still on the jellyfish. "I don't know what happened," he admitted, his voice tight.

Mr. Krabs took a deep breath. "I know it's not easy for you to accept help, especially from me," he said, his voice earnest. "But maybe, just maybe, we could find some common ground."

Plankton remained silent, his tentacles twitching with the effort of holding back his words. The jellyfish in his hand pulsed with light, casting an eerie glow on the plankton's furrowed brow.

Finally, with a deep sigh, he looked up at Mr. Krabs. "You know, Krabs," he began, his voice a mix of anger and something else, something softer.

Mr. Krabs' eyes widened, hope flickering in them like the glow of the jellyfish. "Yes?"

Plankton took a deep breath, the anger and embarrassment of the past few days weighing heavily on his shoulders. "I don't remember what I said or did," he began, his voice gruff. "But if it's true that you were just trying to help..."

Mr. Krabs' hope grew, his claws unclenching slightly. "I was," he said, his voice earnest. "You were in a lot of pain, and I just wanted to be there for you."

Plankton relaxed, the ice pack forgotten in his other hand. "I don't know how to feel about that," he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. "But I do know that I can't keep letting this... this embarrassment fester."

Mr. Krabs nodded. "I understand," he said, his voice gentle. "But I promise, it was just a misunderstanding."

Plankton quivered, the weight of his decision clear. "I... I forgive you," he said, the words feeling strange on his lips.

Mr. Krabs' eyes widened, the hope in them blossoming into relief. "Thank you, Plankton," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I know we're not exactly... friends. But I do care about you, in my own crusty way."

Plankton snorted, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Don't let it get around," he said, his voice gruff but not unkind. "I have a reputation to maintain."

Mr. Krabs chuckled, the tension between them dissipating like a bubble in the ocean. "Your secret's safe with me," he said, his eyes crinkling at the edges. "We frenemies?"

Plankton rolled his eye but couldn't help the slight smirk that pulled at his lips. "Frenemies," he said, his voice a mix of irritation and amusement.

new nothing but the wisdom truth AI Story Generator

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 𝟷,𝟼𝟸𝟷

Karen walked into the 
bedroom. Plankton lay 
on their bed, 
face half-buried in 
a pillow. His snores 
rumbled through the 
quiet room. She took a 
moment to appreciate 
his vulnerability before 
she gently nudged him 
awake. He groaned, his 
eye fluttering open. She offered 
a soft smile. "It's time," 
she whispered.
"You're fine."
He nodded.

The drive to the oral
surgeon's office was tense.
The brightness
of the day seemed to mock
his anxiety.

Karen's hand squeezed
his, a silent promise of
support. As they checked in, the
receptionist's smile was
practiced, but kind.

The exam room
surgeon, a man named Dr.
Musselwhite, came in.
He explained the procedure
once more. 

The nurse began
preparing anesthesia.

"You're doing great,"
Plankton took a deep breath,
vision blurring. The
last thing he saw was
Karen's face before the
world went dark.

Karen watched the
monitors as Plankton's
breathing evened out. She clutched
his hand, her thumb
making small circles on
his palm. Plankton's
snores had been replaced
by the steady rhythm of
his breathing under anesthesia.

She leaned
forward to Plankton's still form.
Her screen traced the
IV line. 

Plankton's mouth was open
Dr. Musselwhite peered into. Plankton
twitched slightly in his sleep,
but the doctor's hand remained
steady.
Plankton's chest continued 
to rise and fall
steadily, oblivious to the
battle being fought within
his mouth.

Dr. Musselwhite finished stitching.

"It's done," he announced.

"You did it," she murmured,
voice cracking.

Plankton lay still, his breathing
even and deep. 

The surgery was over, and he
was alive. Karen leaned down to
kiss his forehead.

The nurse smiles. "He'll be
asleep for awhile," she said.

Karen nodded.
The only sounds were the
whispers of medical staff
and the hum of machinery.

The nurse wheeled him into
recovery, and Karen followed, the
medication still working its
magic.

Plankton's features were
relaxed in sleep, a stark
contrast to the fear that had
been etched there just hours
before.
Plankton's chest rose and fell
in a steady rhythm, a silent
testament to the successful
procedure by the
deep embrace of anesthesia.

As he started to stir, the
nurse offered a gentle smile as he
began to come around.

Plankton's eye fluttered open,
his gaze unfocused and glassy.
He blinked slowly.

"Hi, sweetheart," Karen's voice
was a warm embrace. 

"Whaa-...happen'd?" he mumbled.

"You're ok," Karen said softly.
"They took your wisdom teeth out."

Plankton tries to piece together the
fragments of his memory. 

He attempted to speak. "Ow?" he
managed.

Karen squeezed his hand.

Plankton's head
lolling slightly against the
pillow. His mouth felt like a
foreign landscape. Karen helped 
him sit up, the nurse
getting gauze.
"You're going to need to
bite down," she said,
handing him a piece of gauze.
"It'll help with the bleeding."

He pressed
it to his mouth, the pressure
sending a dull throb through
his jaw.

"Hold it there," the nurse instructed,
her voice a gentle guide in
his foggy world. "Keep the
pressure steady. It'll help
the bleeding to stop."

Plankton nodded, his movements
sluggish. 

The nurse handed Karen an ice
pack. "This'll help," she said. 

"It's ok,"
she soothed. "You're all
done. The hard part is over."

Plankton nodded again, his
brain still foggy from the
remaining anesthesia.

He looked around 
the recovery
room, his gaze
wondering.

"Whath's thith?"
Plankton pointed
at a machine.
Karen chuckled, the
tension easing from
her shoulders.
"It's just monitoring
you."

He nodded, his
eye still filled with
wonder. He looked
down at his hand,
studying it as if it
was the first time he'd
seen it. "Thith...han,"
he said, his voice trailing
off as he wiggled his
fingers.

"Yes, Plankton.
That's your hand."

He's mouth filled with gauze
and drool slowly seeping out.

"Karen?" he mumbles, his
voice thick and groggy. "Wha's?" 
He points to 
instruments.

"They're just tools the
doctor used to help you,"
she explains gently.

Plankton nods, his curiosity
satisfied for the moment.
His eye drift to the ceiling. 
"Why do the wight
hab funny shapes?"

Karen follows his gaze.
"They're just patterns,
Plankton. They help the
ceiling look nice."

He nods, the concept of
aesthetics lost on him.
The nurse returns to check
his vitals. Plankton
watches her with the same
curiosity.

"Whath thoze do?" He points
to the stethoscope around
her neck, his speech still
slurred.

The nurse chuckles. "It's how
we listen to your heart."

Plankton nodded, his gaze
following as she placed the
stethoscope on his chest. 
"Ca-- heaw it?" He
asked, his curiosity
unquenchable.
"That's your heart beating."
Plankton's eye grew
even wider, the
revelation a spark in the
haze. "Wow," he whispered,
his voice a mere breath.
Karen watched
his exploration with a
mixture of amusement and
affection.

The nurse returned with
discharge instructions, her
words a blur to Plankton's
still-numb mind. Karen took
the papers.

"Alright, let's get you
ready to go home," she said,
helping him to stand.
Karen's firm grip on his
arm steadied him.

Karen helped him into the car. 
The seatbelt
was a puzzle he couldn't solve
under the fog of the lingering 
drugs, but Karen buckles him
in before driving out of the 
parking lot.

"Loog ath the treeth," Plankton
mumbled. "They're waving
hewwo," he said with a
sleepy smile.

Karen glanced over, her
own smile growing. "Yes,
sweetheart. They're saying hello."

Plankton's gaze shifted to the
mirror in the car. He blinked
at his reflection, the gauze
sticking out of his mouth.
"Who thad?" He pointed at
his reflection.

Karen chuckled. 
"That's you, with a
little extra padding."

Plankton nodded, his
thoughts a slow river in
his sluggish mind.

"Thith car...it moveths,"
he murmured.
Karen chuckled. "Yes,
dear, it's a car. It takes
us places."

"Wook ath the clowds,"
he whispered, his voice
slurred.

"Thath one...loks wike a...,"
"It's a cloud," Karen said,
smiling at his childlike
wonder. "It's just water
vapor that looks like
something we see in our
imaginations."
Plankton nodded, his
eye drooping. The motion
of the car and the gentle
hum of the engine lulled
him into a doze. His head
nodded forward before
snapping back up again.

"Tired?" Karen asked.

"Mm-hmm."

His head lolled back
against the headrest, his
eye slipping shut. 

The car's AC whispered
a gentle lullaby, the cool
air playing with the
strands of Plankton's antennae.
His chest rose and fell in
time with the rhythm of the
engine, each breath a soft
snore.

They arrived home. 
Plankton stirred, his
eye blinking open.

Karen helped Plankton out of
the car. She held him
close, his weight a comforting
reminder of his presence.

Spot, the amoeba puppy,
bounded over, his gelatinous body
shifting shapes with excitement.

"Spoth," Plankton mumbled. The
puppy leapedfrogged over, his
form morphing into a blur of
happiness. Plankton's eye
lit up.

Plankton reached
for Spot with a clumsy hand,
his coordination still muddled.
Spot nudged his palm with
his squishy nose.

"Wook, Spoth," Plankton slurred,
his eye wide with childlike
wonder. "I hav- a booboo."

Spot nudges him. Plankton giggled.

"Easy, Plankton," Karen
cautioned, her voice a gentle
reminder of his fragile
state. 

Spot's eyes widened in
surprise, his little body
shivering with joy. He wriggled
closer, his gelatinous tail
whipping back and forth in
a blur of excitement. Plankton
laughed.

They made their way to
the couch, Plankton's steps
uncertain, each movement
accompanied by a little giggle.
Spot followed.
Plankton flopped onto the cushions,
his body a limp noodle.

Spot jumped up beside him.
Plankton leaned onto 
by Spot, his head lolling.

The puppy's
a comfort.

Plankton's eye grew 
heavy, the weight of
his eyelid too much
for his sluggish 
body to bear, his body 
going slack.

"Rest," Karen said, 
kneeling beside him. "You've
been through a lot today."

His hand
remained on Spot, the
puppy a comforting
presence.

Plankton's breaths grew
steady, his snores once again
filling the room.

Karen watched him sleep,
his chest rising and falling
beneath Spot's gentle weight.
The house was quiet,
the only sound the occasional
snort from Plankton's nostrils.

He slept all night, only waking
up the next morning.

Plankton awoke with a
start, his mouth wet with
drool, his eye focusing
slowly. The gauze was 
still damp from the night's
excess saliva. He sat up.

"Wha..." Plankton looked
around, the room spinning
slightly. The couch was
his bed, Spot his blanket.

He reached up to
his mouth, the gauze
still in place, the taste of
cotton in his mouth. The
memory of the surgery was
distant.

Karen's face swam into
view, her smile a warm
sunrise. "How are you
feeling?" she asked, her voice
a gentle caress.

Plankton's eye searched
his mind, looking for the
missing pieces. "I don't...
member coming hone," he
mumbled, the words slurred.

Karen nodded, her smile
soft. "You fell asleep in
the car, sweetie. I brought
you home."

But any
details were lost, a foggy
dream slipping away with
each passing moment.

"Thish mouth," he said,
his tongue probing the empty
sockets. The pain was
a dull ache, a reminder of
his body's battle.

Karen handed him a glass
of water. "Thank you,"
he murmured.

"You're not supposed to eat
solids today," she reminded
him, placing a bowl of
soup on the coffee table.
"But I made some nice,
soft scrambled eggs and toast
for you to chew."

Spot's eyes glued to his
owner, his tail wagging.

Plankton's jaw felt like
it was made of rubber, but
the food was a heavenly
comfort. Karen sat beside
him, her screen never leaving
his face, watching for any
sign of discomfort.

"It'th okay," he assured
her, his speech still slurred.
He took another bite, his
mouth working carefully.
The taste was muted, a distant
memory of what food used
to be. Yet, the warmth and
texture brought a sense of
normalcy to the post-surgery
haze.

new Karen x Plankton Karen & Sheldon J. Plankton Karen/Sheldon J. Plankton POV Karen AI Story Generator wisdom tooth

CONSOLE TONSIL i

The anesthesiologist came in. Plankton 
looked at Karen for assurance. She 
managed a smile and a nod.
"I'll be here," she said, her voice shaking 
slightly. "I won't leave your side."
Plankton nodded, his eye never leaving hers 
as the anesthesiologist began to prepare the 
equipment.
The anesthetic took hold as Plankton's 
mouth was propped open. His eye grew 
heavy, his eyelid drooped.
"It's ok," she whispered, stroking his arm. 
"You're doing great."
The room grew quiet, save for the rhythmic 
beeping of the monitors. Plankton's 
breathing grew more regular, and the tension 
in his hand slowly released. "Just rest going 
to sleep now," she whispered. "I'm right 
here." His head lolled to the side and his grip 
on her hand went slack, and he was asleep 
as his eye went back in is socket, eyelid 
closing. 
She leaned over and kissed his forehead, 
whispering, "I love you." 

After surgery, Plankton's snore brought a 
smile to Karen's face, his mouth hung 
slightly open. 
Karen leaned closer, stroking Plankton's arm 
with her thumb. "Hey, Plankton," she 
murmured. "You made it through. You're 
going to be fine now." His snores grew 
quieter. "Remember the ice cream I 
promised you?"
To her surprise, snores morphed into muffled 
words. "Ice...cream...Karen...love."

"It's called somniloquism. Sometimes 
patients talk in their sleep as they're coming 
out of anesthesia. It's normal to mumble a bit 
after surgery, and it's also a sign they're 
coming around." Says the nurse. 

Karen nodded, feeling a mix of relief and 
amusement. She leaned closer, her hand 
wrapping around his. "You can have all the 
ice cream you want when you wake up," she 
said, her voice filled with warmth.

The nurse checked his vitals, nodded in 
approval, and gave Karen a thumbs-up. 
"He's going to be ok," she said with a 
reassuring smile. "The surgery went well, 
and he's responding nicely to the 
anesthesia."
Plankton's snores grew more regular, and 
his hand began to twitch slightly in her 
grasp.
"You're ok. The surgery went well."
Karen says. It was as if he was trying to 
respond, to squeeze her hand in agreement. 
"You're going to wake up, and we're going to
get you the biggest ice cream sundae you've 
ever seen." Plankton's eyebrow began to 
twitch, and she leaned in closer. “That’s it..”
He opens his eye. “Karen..”
The nurse had assured her that his brain 
was just trying to make sense of the world as 
it woke up from the deep slumber of 
anesthesia. “You’re finished with 
tonsillectomy!” His speech was slurred and 
nonsensical. "Blabber...wha...wha...waffle?"
Karen couldn't help but chuckle. 
The nurse stifled a laugh. "It's common for 
patients to have a bit of confusion post-op. 
It'll wear off soon. The nonsense talk is just 
his brain trying to piece things together."
"Do you remember what happened?" Karen 
asked gently.
Plankton's expression grew thoughtful for a 
moment, then he nodded. "Owies," he said, 
pointing to his throat. As the moments 
passed, Plankton's questions grew more 
frequent, each one a little slice of wonder. 
"Why is the floor so shiny?" "What makes 
the lights go?" "Can I have more ice cream?"
Karen answered each one with patience and 
love, enjoying the simplicity of his curiosity.
They arrived home, the ride a blur of 
instructions from the hospital and Plankton's 
sleepy nap. She helped him into bed, 
propping his pillows just right and placing a 
glass of water on the nightstand. The house 
was quiet, a stark contrast to the bustling 
hospital. The only sound was the occasional 
tick of the clock in the hallway.
Karen settled into the chair beside his bed, 
ready to keep her vigil. Plankton's eye 
fluttered open and then closed. 
"Need...sleep," he murmured.
"You go ahead," she said, her voice gentle. 
"I'll be here when you wake up."
The room grew still again as Plankton's eye 
finally closed for good. Karen took his hand 
in hers once more, feeling the comforting 
weight of his head on her shoulder.
The doorbell rang, a sudden and jarring 
intrusion into the quiet sanctuary they had 
created. Karen looked over at Plankton, 
whose sleep remained undisturbed. She 
leans him back on pillow and kissed his 
forehead gently. She whispered, "I'll be right 
back." She opened the door to see Hanna, 
her friend, who’s also a computer like Karen.

"Hey," Hanna said, her voice filled with 
concern. "How's he doing?"
"The surgery went well, yet he's still pretty 
out of it."
Hanna's screen went straight to Plankton, 
who was snoring softly. She gave a small 
smile. "Looks like he's in good hands," she 
said.
Karen nodded, a hint of gratitude in her 
voice. "Thanks for coming."
A few moments passed in quiet 
contemplation before Plankton's eye 
fluttered open, any trace of anesthesia gone.

"Wha...where am I?" he croaked, his voice 
raw and scratchy.

"You're home," Karen said, her voice 
soothing. "You had surgery this morning."

"Hi, Plankton! It’s nice to meet you. I'm 
Hanna, Karen's friend. I just came to check 
on you."

Plankton's gaze drifted from Karen to Hanna, 
then back to Karen again. "You...told?"

"You know I couldn't keep it from her," she 
said softly. "We tell each other everything."

"What...did you tell her?"
"Just that you weren't feeling well and had 
surgery. How you feeling?"
"Sore," he managed to croak out. "And... 
confused."

"It's normal," Hanna chimed in. "The 
anesthesia can mess with your head for a 
bit."

Karen nodded in agreement. "Do you 
remember anything from the hospital?"

Plankton's eye darted around the room, as if 
trying to recall the events of the day. "You 
were there, but nothing else at all."
"You talked a bit when you were coming out 
of it," Karen said with a smirk. "Asked for ice 
cream and waffles."

Plankton's eye widened in surprise, then 
narrowed in suspicion. "Waffles?"

Hanna laughed, earning her a glare from 
Plankton.

"It's true," Karen said, her voice filled with 
mirth. "You kept asking for waffles."
"I don't even like waffles," he grumbled, 
sinking back into the pillows.

Hanna chuckled, her laughter a series of 
light beeps. "Well, maybe you've discovered 
a love for them."

Plankton's glare sharpened, his cheeks 
flushing with a hint of anger. "I said I don't 
like waffles," he mumbled, his voice strained.

Hanna raised her hands in mock surrender. 
"Ok, ok," she said, her digital eyes sparkling 
with amusement. "I'll take your word for it. 
It’s ok if you don’t recall."
Karen felt a pang of worry, the room 
suddenly thick with tension. She knew 
Plankton's fiery temper well.
"You don't know anything about me."

"I just want to be here you know, ease 
Karen’s burden.." Hanna said. 
“BURDEN?” Plankton's eyes were on 
Hanna, his gaze piercing. "How could you 
say that?" he cried, his voice rising despite 
the pain. "I'm not a burden to her; I never 
meant to be burdensome!"

Hanna's smile faded, and she looked at with 
a hint of concern. "I didn't mean it like that," 
she said quickly. "I just knew she'd be 
worried about you and I wanted to help."

Karen squeezed Plankton's hand, her gaze 
flicking from Hanna to him. "It's ok," she said 
soothingly. "You're not a burden, Plankton. 
We're just looking out for you."

But Plankton felt a tear slide down his cheek, 
his body trembling with the effort of holding 
back. "I'm sorry," he choked out.

"Don't be," Karen said, her voice firm. 
"You're not a burden, Plankton. You're my... 
my everything."

Plankton's eye searched hers, looking for the 
truth in her words. He could feel the weight 
of the unspoken between them, the fear and 
the doubt. But what he saw was unwavering 
love and care. He took a deep, painful 
breath and nodded. "Ok," he murmured. "But 
no more waffles."

The tension in the room didn't dissipate 
immediately, but it began to ease as 
Plankton's gaze drifted back to the ceiling. 
Karen felt his hand tighten around hers, a 
silent plea for reassurance.

"Look, Plankton," Hanna began, her voice 
tentative. "I'm sorry if I upset you. That 
wasn't my intent."

He looked at her, and took a deep, shaky 
breath. "I don't want to talk to you about it!"

Hanna's smile faltered, her screens flickering 
with confusion. "I just..."

“It’s alright, Hanna. Plankton’s just really 
sensitive,” Karen replied, her gaze still fixed 
on Plankton.

Hanna’s screens dimmed slightly, her 
concern evident. "I didn't mean to..."

"I said No," he snaps, his voice tight with 
emotion.

Hanna looked at him, her screens flickering 
with regret. "I'm sorry, Plankton," she said 
softly, now knowing her choice of words hit a 
nerve. 

"I think he needs some rest," Karen said, her 
voice low. "Why don't you let me take care of 
him?"

Hanna nodded, her screens dimming with 
understanding. "Of course," she said. "I 
didn't mean to overstep."

“You didn’t, you just wanted to support. He’s 
not overly affectionate, even with me. It’s 
hard for him, not necessarily about you. He 
doesn’t tend to open up to others, nothing 
personal. But thank you, Hanna.” Karen told 
her. 
“I just hoped I could make it easier for him, I 
know he’s been through a lot,” Hanna said
with sincerity.
“You did. Thank you for caring, really. But 
he’s always had a hard time letting anyone 
in, even me sometimes,” Karen explained, 
her gaze lingering on Plankton’s sleeping 
form. Hanna nodded, her screens swiping 
through various shades of blue. "I'll leave 
you to rest," she said quietly, moving 
towards the door. 

new console tonsil AI Story Generator karen plankton i

CONSOLE TONSIL ii


*


As the door clicked shut, Karen noticed how 
Plankton's body 
stiffened, eye open but unseeing.

"Plankton?" she called out, her voice a 
gentle prodding into his
absent-mindedness.

He didn't respond. His eye remained open, but 
it was as if the light
behind it had gone out.
This wasn’t the first time Karen had seen 
him dizzily scatterbrained from overload, yet
it was eerie to witness such shock. His body 
remained still, his chest rising and
falling with his shallow breaths, yet there 
was no response to her
touch or voice. It was like he was there, but 
not there at the same
time.

The room grew quiet. She leaned closer. 
"Plankton, can you hear me?" she 
whispered.

His eye remained unblinking.

"Plankton, talk to me," Karen urged, her 
voice a gentle coax.

His only ‘response’ was the shallow rise and 
fall of his chest, his eye unblinking.

Karen realized the depth of his withdrawal; 
Hanna's words had
triggered a sensory shutdown.

The room grew colder as Plankton retreated 
into himself, his eye glazed over like a
still pond reflecting the fear and confusion 
rippling through him. Karen knew she
needed to tread lightly. She had seen this 
before, during moments of intense stress or
overstimulation.

"Plankton," she said, her voice a soft 
whisper. "You're not a burden, you know that."
Her hand reached out, stroking his arm in 
gentle, soothing motions. "You're just tired.
Let's focus on getting you better."

The room was still, the only sound being the 
tick of the clock echoing through the
silence. Karen's screen never left Plankton's 
unresponsive face, her mind racing to find the
right words, the right touch to pull him back 
from the edge of his isolation.

"Plankton," she said again, her voice barely 
above a whisper. "You're ok. You're home."
Her hand continued its soft, rhythmic motion 
on his arm, a silent lullaby to his
fractured thoughts.

Slowly, as if waking from a deep sleep, 
Plankton's eye blinked. The fog in his gaze
started to clear, his pupil focusing on Karen's 
concerned face. He took a deep, shaky
breath, wincing as the pain in his throat shot 
up like a warning flare.

"You're ok," Karen repeated, her voice a 
soothing balm to his frazzled nerves. "You're 
home, and I'm here with you."

Plankton's breathing grew more even, the 
tension in his body slowly seeping away as 
he focused on her voice, her touch. The pain 
in his throat was a constant reminder of the 
surgery, but it was the emotional pain that 
weighed heavier on him.

Karen waited patiently, her hand never 
stopping its gentle caress, her voice a 
steady stream of comfort. "You're not a 
burden," she repeated, her tone soothing. 
"You're my best friend, Plankton. We’re 
home. I'm here for you, always."

Plankton blinked again, the reality of his 
situation seeping in. "Home," he murmured. 
"Thank you, Karen."

"You're welcome. I'm here for you."

The words hung in the air, the silence thick 
and heavy. Karen could see the internal
battle playing out on Plankton's face, the war 
between his pride and his need for
comfort. His hand reached out again, this 
time with more intention, and he gently
squeezed hers.

"I'm sorry," he croaked out, his voice still raw. 
"I didn't mean to scare you."

Karen leaned in closer, her screen filled with 
a gentle understanding. "You don't ever have 
to apologize for how you feel," she said 
softly. "We're in this together."
Plankton's grip tightened, his eye finally 
focusing on hers with a hint of gratitude. He 
took another deep breath, the pain a stark 
contrast to the warmth in the room. "What...what 
is Hanna doing now?" he 
asked, his voice a whisper of curiosity.

"I don't know," Karen replied truthfully. "But 
she's not here to bother us. You need to rest, ok?"

Plankton nodded weakly, his grip loosening. 
Karen felt a twinge of sadness as she saw 
the exhaustion etched on his features. She 
knew he was trying to be strong, but the 
weight of the day's events was too much for 
anyone to bear alone.

"Rest," she encouraged, her voice firm but 
gentle. "I'll be right here if you need 
anything."

Plankton's nod was almost imperceptible, 
but Karen took it as his silent agreement. 
She pulled the blanket up to his chin, tucking 
him in as if he were a child, and sat in the 
chair beside his bed, her hand still in his. 
The warmth of their intertwined fingers was a 
small but significant comfort in the face of his 
overwhelming fears.

The minutes ticked by. Karen watched him 
closely, waiting for his breathing to deepen, 
his eyelid to droop. It was a slow process, 
but eventually, the exhaustion won. She 
heard a faint snore, a sign that he had finally 
succumbed to sleep. His hand went slack in 
hers, and she carefully extracted her hand, 
placing it on the bedside table. She took a 
deep breath, her shoulders sagging with 
relief.

Her mind raced with what had happened. 
Hanna's words had clearly struck a nerve, 
and she couldn’t help but feel a surge of 
anger at her friend's thoughtlessness. 
Plankton had always been self-conscious 
about his size and his perceived 
weaknesses, and to hear such harsh words 
from someone Karen cared about had to be 
devastating. Karen felt a mix of anger and 
sadness as she approached Hanna, her 
mind playing back the haunting image of 
Plankton's lifeless stare.
"Hanna," she began, her voice firm but 
measured. "We need to talk."

Hanna looked up.

"What you said in front of Plankton, though 
not meant to be malicious," Karen began, 
her voice low but steady. "It was hurtful and 
unnecessary. Plankton has...challenges. 
Neurodivergent challenges."

Hanna's confused. "What do you mean?"

"It means," Karen said, sitting down next to 
her, "that Plankton perceives and reacts to 
the world differently than we do. It affects 
how he processes information, how he 
interacts with people, and how he handles 
stress."

"What happened after I left?" Hanna finally 
asked, her voice tentative.

Karen took a deep breath, preparing to 
recount the events that had unfolded. "He 
had a...a reaction," she said.
"He couldn't handle the stress anymore. His 
mind just sort of...shut down. He just...froze 
still. It's like his body was there, but he 
wasn't. He didn’t respond to anything I said or did."
Hanna's hand flew to her mouth, horrified. 
"His eye were open, but he was...gone, 
somewhere else. I've seen it before, but 
never this severe. At first, nothing," Karen 
said, her gaze drifting to the floor. "It was like 
talking to a statue. But I didn't give up. I 
talked to him, whispered really. I tried to get 
through to him, to tell him he's not a burden, 
that he's important to me, that he's safe 
here. Just kept saying how much he means 
to me and that he's not a burden. He started 
to come back to me, little by little. His 
breathing changed, his gaze focused on me. 
It was like he was hearing me for the first 
time in hours." Karen paused, collecting her 
thoughts. "He apologized," she said. "For 
scaring me. As if it was his fault."

Hanna's expression grew pained. "I never 
meant for this to happen," she murmured. 
"What can I do to make it right?"

Karen considered her words carefully. "For 
now, let him rest," she said. "But when he's 
feeling better, we need to have a talk. All of 
us. Plankton deserves an apology."

* * 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  *

new author is neurodivergent console tonsil AI Story Generator karen plankton

LEGGY ii

"Krabby Patty...chum...Krabby Patty...chum..."

Plankton blushed. "I said, stop it!" he yelled, his voice cracking.

Sponge Bob's smile faded as he saw the hurt in his friend's eye. "Patrick, enough," he said firmly.

"Oh, come on," he said, trying to sound casual.

But Plankton was not amused. "I said STOP!"

Tears welled up in his eye, threatening to spill over. "Why are you laughing at me?" he choked out, his voice cracking. "All you can do is mock me?"

"Plankton, we weren't—"

But Plankton cut him off, voice trembling. "I know you think I'm just a joke, but I'm not!" He couldn't hold it in, and a tear rolled down his cheek.

Sponge Bob's eyes widened in shock. "Plankton," he said softly, reaching for his friend's hand. "We're just happy you're ok."

But Plankton's jerking away. "No, you're not!" he sobbed. "You think I'm amusement!" His voice grew louder. "You think because I'm small and have one eye that I don't have feelings?"

They had never seen Plankton like this before, and it was clear that their teasing had gone too far.

"Plankton, sorry," Sponge Bob said sincerely, voice full of emotion. "We didn't mean to make you feel that way. We really do care about you."

Patrick looked down. "Yeah, man, just happy you're ok."

Plankton's sniffles grew, hiding his face in the pillow. "I'm not a joke, not just some...some...someone to laugh at."

Sponge Bob's heart clenched at the pain in Plankton's voice. "We know, Plankton," he said gently. "I’m really sorry."

"We didn't mean to upset you," Patrick added, his voice much softer than before. "We wanted to keep things light."

Sponge Bob reached over and patted Plankton's shoulder. "We know you're not a joke," he said. "You're our friend, and we care. But you're right, Plankton. We shouldn't have laughed."

Plankton's sniffling slowed, shoulders relaxing slightly. "It's ok," he murmured. "I know you meant well Sponge Bob."

Patrick shifted uncomfortably. "Look, Plankton," he said, his voice sincere. "I just thought it was funny, you know?"

"It's not funny, Patrick," he said, his voice trembling. "I'm not some sort of circus act for you to laugh at!"

Patrick's smile disappeared, and he looked at Plankton with a mix of surprise and guilt. "Hey, buddy, I didn't mean it like that. I just thought it was weird, you know, the stuff you say when you're out of it."

"Weird?!" he spat, his voice rising. 

Sponge Bob's face fell. "Pat you should 
apologize," he suggested quietly.

Patrick nodded. "Plankton, man. I didn't mean to make you feel like that."

But Plankton was not in a forgiving mood. "Don't you call me 'buddy' or 'man'!" he yelled, his tiny fist pounding the bed. "You think you can just come and laugh at me?!"

Patrick took a step back, his eyes wide with shock. "I—"

But Plankton wasn't finished. "I've had enough! I'm not your entertainment! I'm not some pathetic excuse for a laugh! You think my pain is a joke?" he yelled, his voice echoing off the metal walls of the Chum Bucket. "You think because I'm small and I've only got one eye, I don't feel anything?"

Patrick's reaching to him, hand touching on his. "Plankton, I didn't mean—"

But Plankton jerked, pushing him away, his eye flashing with anger. "Don't touch me!" he spat. "You don't get to act like you care now!"

"But, Plankton," he said, his voice small. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

Plankton turned away, antennae drooping. "Just go," he said, his voice muffled by the tears. "Patrick, just let me alone."

"Plankton," he began, his voice thick with regret. "I'm sorry, ok? I just want to show you that I'm sorry."

Patrick, his expression earnest, took another step closer. His arms remained outstretched, his fingers curling slightly as he reached for Plankton. "Come on! It'll make you feel better. I know you're in pain. Let me help."

He leaned in, his massive arms closing around Plankton's frail form. "It's ok," he murmured, his voice gentle. "You're not weird, and you're not a joke. You're our friend, we're here."

Plankton's eye grew even wider, his tiny fists balling up the bedsheets. "Get off me!" he yelled, his voice cracking. "I don't need you!"

But Patrick's grip remained firm, his arms enveloping Plankton in a bear hug. "You don't have to be tough all the time," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

Plankton struggled against him, his tiny fists pummeling Patrick's chest. "Let me go!" he yelled, his voice raw with pain and humiliation. "I said I don't want your pity!"

Sponge Bob watched. "Pat," he said, his voice a warning. "Maybe we should—"

Plankton's struggling grew weaker, his sobs becoming more pronounced. "I don't want your help," he choked out.

But Patrick held on. "You do," he said, his voice firm yet gentle. "Everyone needs help sometimes."

Plankton's sobs grew louder, his fists slowly unclenching.

"Just go!" he yelled, his voice muffled by the fabric. "I don't want you!"

Patrick took a step away from the bed, his hands dropping to his sides. "Ok, ok," he said, his voice soothing. "I'll go. But let…”

But Plankton was having none of it. "Get out!" he screamed. "I don’t need your pity or your friendship!"

Patrick took a step back, his expression a mix of confusion and hurt. "But Plankton," he began, his voice tentative.

"Out!" Plankton shrieked, his tiny body writhing with rage. His antennae shot up straight, eye wet with tears with frustration.

"But, Plankton," he protested, his voice gentle despite the yelling. "I just want to make sure you're ok."

"I said leave me alone!" Plankton screamed, his one eye flashing with anger. "You think you can just waltz in here and laugh?"

Patrick's expression fell, his arms dropping to his sides as he took a step back. "I’m just trying to lighten the mood," he said, his voice laced with confusion.

But Plankton was beyond consolation. "Get out!" he shrieked again, his voice cracking with emotion. "I don't need your kind of 'help'!"

Sponge Bob looked at Patrick. He knew that Plankton's outburst was a result of pain and embarrassment. 

Patrick's face fell. "Plankton," he said, his voice low and gentle.

But Plankton was too far gone. "I said leave me alone!" he yelled, his voice echoing through the metal walls of the Chum Bucket.

Patrick's smile disappeared, replaced by a look of genuine worry. "But Plankton," he said, his voice tentative. "I’m just trying to help."

"Help?" Plankton's voice was filled with disdain. "You think mocking me is helping? It’s not, not ok!" He swiped at his tears with his arm, his anger palpable. "Get out!"

Patrick looked at Sponge Bob, his expression a mix of confusion and sadness. "I just trying to—"

"I said, leave. me. alone!" Plankton's voice pierced the air.

"But I just wanted to—"

Sponge Bob put a hand on his shoulder, his gaze firm. "I know, Pat," he said. "But I think Plankton needs some space right now."

Patrick looked at Plankton, and then back at Sponge Bob. With a heavy sigh, he nodded. "Okay," he said, his voice subdued. "I'll go. But, Sponge 
Bob, tell him I'm sorry."

Sponge Bob nodded solemnly. "I will," he said, his gaze never leaving Plankton's trembling form.

Patrick gave a sad nod and turned to leave, his footsteps heavy on the metal floor. As the door clicked shut behind him, Plankton's sobs grew quieter, and the room was once again filled with an awkward silence.

Sponge Bob approached the bed, his heart aching for his friend. He knew Plankton's outburst was not directed at him, but rather at the pain and embarrassment he was feeling. He sat down gently beside the trembling form, his eyes filled with empathy.

"Plankton," he said softly, placing a comforting hand on Plankton's bed. "I know you're upset, but we care."

Plankton's sobs grew quieter, his body still shaking with the aftermath of his outburst. He didn't look up from the pillow, but his grip on the bedsheets loosened slightly.

"It's tough," he said, voice gentle.

Plankton's sobs grew quieter, body still shaking with the aftermath of his outburst. But Sponge Bob's words resonated with him, cutting through the haze. He took a deep breath, chest heaving with the effort of containing his emotions. "I don't want anyone else," he murmured, his voice muffled by the pillow. "Just you, and Karen."

Sponge Bob's grip on his shoulder tightened slightly, his heart swelling with affection for his troubled friend. "Okay, Plankton," he said softly. "It's just us."

Plankton's gradually relaxing under the warmth of Sponge Bob's touch. He knew he could trust Sponge Bob, that his friend's intentions were always pure. Despite their many differences and the occasional misunderstanding, Sponge Bob had always been there.

Sponge Bob gently rubbed Plankton's back, his movements slow and soothing. "It's ok, Plankton," he murmured. "I'm here, for you."

Plankton's sobs grew quieter as he clutched the pillow to his chest. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I didn't mean to snap, at you."

Sponge Bob leaned in closer, his voice filled with warmth. "Don't worry about it," he said. "We all have moments."

Plankton took another shaky breath, his body slowly calming down. "Thanks, Sponge 
Bob," he murmured, voice still thick with emotion.

Sponge Bob nodded, his hand still rubbing circles on Plankton's back. "It's ok," he said. "We all get overwhelmed sometimes."

Plankton's antennae twitched, and he looked up at Sponge Bob with his watery eye. Sponge Bob nodded solemnly. "Patrick can be a little clueless sometimes, but he's got a good heart."

Plankton's antennae drooped slightly. "I know," he said, voice still shaky.

Sponge Bob gave him a smile. "I can talk to him, but only if you want me to," he said. "Make sure he knows not to laugh about it."

Plankton nodded, still trembling with emotion. "Thank you, Sponge Bob," he whispered.

"Of course, Plankton," he said. "That's what friends are for."

new patbob leggy AI Story Generator

TEETHIES ii

The nurse dimmed lights and adjusted the bed, giving Plankton's body a chance to recover from the wisdom tooth surgery. 

Gently, Karen began to hum a tune she knew Plankton loved. The melody filled the room, wrapping around them like a warm blanket. His breathing grew a little easier, the tension in his hand loosening slightly. 

Plankton stirred, eye fluttering open to reveal a world still blurred by the fog of anesthesia. "Where... what...?" Plankton slurred. "Who... who are you?" 
"The dentist had to get your wisdom teeth out in surgery." Karen told him. "Wis...dommm...surgery? I don't...I don't remembe--- much." Plankton says. "Had to take them out. You've been asleep for a while." The nurse said. 

The door to the room creaked open to SpongeBob, his face a picture of concern. "Plankton!" he exclaimed. "How are ya?"

Plankton, still groggy from the surgery, tried to form a coherent sentence. "S-SpongeBob," he slurred. "M-more wike... 'Arrr, matey' than usual, I s'pose." 

Karen rolled her pixel eyes. "It's the anesthesia."

Plankton chuckled. "Ahoy ther- Spongey! Aye, it's awh’ 'cause of tweasare... I mean, surgery," he corrected, his speech still swaying. 
"You two are always so... " Karen trailed off, searching for the right word.

"Inseparabubble?" Plankton suggested.  
Sponge Bob's laughter bubbled up again. "You mean, no Krabby Patty stealing schemes?"

"Thath's righ'. No mow... Krabby... Patties... fow awhile." The words came out in a drawn-out slur, his head lolling slightly on the pillow. "Thath's... wath I wath thhinking," his speech still slurred but fading as his eyelid growing heavy.

"Arr, thith... thith way, me... hearty," Plankton mumbled, as the nurse helped 'em into the car.  "Arr, me... tweasuwe... home,".

Sponge Bob watched his eyelid grew heavier. Plankton's head lolled back against the seat and his mouth fell open slightly, emitting a soft snore. 

"He's gonna be out for a bit," Karen said, glancing in the rearview mirror. "The anesthesia usually takes a few hours to wear off completely. He'll be fine."

He reached out and gently patted Plankton's arm, whispering, "Don't worry, buddy. We're almost there."

"We're home, Plankton," Karen said, her voice a gentle nudge.

Sponge Bob turned to see Plankton's chest rising and falling in deep, even breaths, his mouth open in snore's. His usually scheming eye were shut tight. Karen carefully opened the door. Sponge Bob looked at Plankton, who was still out cold. Sponge Bob leaned over the seat, his arms wrapping around Plankton's frail body. Plankton's head lolled back, his mouth still open in snore's.
"Should we... should we wake him?" "Let him rest, Sponge Bob. He's had a rough day." Karen puts him on the couch.

"Do you think he'll... you know, remember any of this?" Sponge Bob asked, his voice low and tentative.
Karen's smile was a gentle wave. "I doubt it. The anesthesia usually wipes out memories for a bit."

"Rest well, honey," she whispered, kissing his forehead. "You've had a long day."

Suddenly Plankton stirs in his sleep, his snores morphing into a groan as he shifts beneath the blanket.
"Is he okay?" SpongeBob asks.
"He's okay," she nods, her voice a gentle lullaby in the stillness. "Just anesthesia wearing off." She stood by him. "Easy, Plankton," Karen cooed, gently rubbing Plankton's back. "You're okay."

The little villain's body twitched, and his eye fluttered open. For a brief moment, confusion clouded his gaze before he spotted Sponge Bob and Karen. "W-wha... whass happening?" Plankton's words were slurred, his lisp more pronounced than ever.

"You're home, Plankton. You had wisdom teeth removed."

"W-what? Did I miss... somefink?" He tried to sit up, his body moving as if through syrup.

"You've been out for a bit," Karen said. "But you're home now." 

Plankton blinked. "Home?" he mumbled.

"Yes, sweetie," Karen said, her voice a gentle caress. "You had your wisdom teeth out. You're going to be fine."
 "Oww... wha’ happened to my mouf?"

"Your wisdom teeth were out." "Oh... wight," he murmured.
"Need anything?" "Could... could I have some... ice... cweam?" His voice was a whispered plea. They get him some. "Thath's... thoothing. So, how'd I get home?" 
"Karen and I brought you back," Sponge Bob said. "You were out cold. Didn't even wake up when we carried you in."
"Did... did you two... take care of me?" His voice was a mix of surprise and vulnerability.

"Of course, Plankton!"

He turned to Plankton. "Want me to pick something to watch?"

"Mm-hmm," Plankton mumbled, eye already closing again.

Sponge Bob flicked through the tv channels, finally settling on a rerun of their favorite show, "Mermaid Man and Barnacle Boy." The familiar theme song filled the room, and Karen took a seat next to Plankton on the couch, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

As the adventure unfolded on the screen, Plankton's breathing grew deeper and more regular, his body gradually relaxing into the cushions.

"Looks like he's out again," Karen said softly.  

Sponge Bob nodded, watching Plankton's chest rise and fall rhythmically. "Guess the surgery really took it out of him."

The room grew quiet, save for the distant laugh track of their favorite show and the occasional snore from Plankton. Karen's hand remained on his shoulder, her thumb tracing small circles. At night, turning the tv off, 
Spongebob picked Plankton up, cradling him. His friend's head lolled back, his mouth slightly open in a peaceful snore. Sponge Bob carefully made his way to his bed, setting him down. He pulled the blanket up to Plankton and gave him a soft pat. 
They both settled into the makeshift beds they had set up next to Plankton's. 

The next morning, both woke up before Plankton. Karen chuckled. "We should take a picture."
Spongebob snapped a picture of Plankton, still asleep with his mouth slightly open, a trail of drool escaping onto the pillow.

"Morning, Captain Snores-a-lot," Sponge Bob whispered with a smirk, rousing Plankton.
Plankton's eye opened, only to wince. "Oww... wath... what's happening?"
"It's morning, Plankton," Karen said, her tone still gentle.
"Look your post-surgery glamour shot," Spongebob teased, holding the phone out of reach. "You were out cold last night."
Plankton's eye widened as he took in the image. "You... you took a picture of me?!" He was half horrified, half amused.

"Couldn't resist," Karen said, grinning.

Plankton rolled his eye and wiped his mouth, then winced. "How wong hav- I been out?"

"Overnight," Sponge Bob said, unable to hold back a chuckle. "You had quite the ride home yesterday."

Plankton groaned, his hand reaching up to gingerly touch his swollen cheek. "Whath happened?"

"You had your wisdom teeth out," Karen reminded him, her voice filled with a touch of amusement. "It's normal to be a bit out of it after surgery."

"Wisdom teeth?" Plankton echoed, his voice still groggy. "Oh, wight. The dentist."

Karen chuckled. "Yeah, you don't remember much, do you?"

Sponge Bob leaned in closer, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "You talked like a pirate all the way home, matey."

Plankton's eye widened in horror. "I did what?"

Sponge Bob nodded. "Yeah, you kept calling me 'Spongey' and said we were 'inseparabubble'."

Plankton blushed. "Oh, come on," he mumbled, trying to hide his face in the pillow.

Sponge Bob and Karen shared a knowing look, their laughter subsiding into a comfortable silence. They could both tell that despite his tough exterior, Plankton was a bit embarrassed.

Plankton sighed, his small body sinking deeper into the pillows. "Okay, okay," he conceded. "But if I don't get to do anything, can I at leash wash TV?"
"Of course," Karen said, handing him the remote. "But take it easy today, okay?"
With a groan, Plankton managed to sit up, his hand still tentatively exploring his tender cheeks. He squinted at the TV, searching for something to watch. His eye lit up when he found a science fiction marathon. "Jackpot," he murmured.

new teethies post awakening plankarenbob AI Story Generator ii

"Come on, Sheldon," Krabs said. 
"You get that patty back here, I'm warning ye."

Sheldon Plankton had tried countless times to steal the recipe, but Mr. Krabs had always been a step ahead. 

Plankton whined. "I've got a restaurant to run too, you know."

Krabs ignored the protest, his beady eyes never leaving the control panel of his latest contraption. Plankton felt a prick and looked to see a small dart.

"Whoah.." He managed to squeak before the world started to spin around him. His legs felt like gelatin, and he could see the edges of his vision blurring as the tranquilizer began to take effect.

Krabs cackled with satisfaction as he watched Plankton frame wobble. "That, me hearty, was yer ticket to a little... unscheduled nap. Now, don't go anywhere, I've got business to attend to." 

The tranquilizer spread through Plankton's body, turning his muscles to jelly. His eye grew heavier, his thoughts slowing to a crawl. As the darkness claimed him, he was vaguely aware of the cold steel surrounding him, the echoes of his own voice bouncing around the chamber. "What are you planning, Krabs?" he slurred, the words barely audible through his fading consciousness.

He couldn't let Krabs win again. He got the dart off himself, but not before it'd take effect.

He noticed a lever that looked out of place, and with a hopeful thought, he threw himself at it. His tiny form hit the lever with surprising force, and he heard the sound of gears grinding to life. The walls of the chamber began to vibrate, and a faint light grew in the distance.
Plankton stumbled towards the light. It grew brighter, revealing a small hatch, turning his thoughts into a thick fog. He had to focus on the light, on the escape that lay before him.

With a herculean effort, he managed to pull himself to the hatch. The metal was cold and slick with condensation. He fumbled with the lock, his tiny hands slipping off repeatedly. Each failed attempt was met with a groan of frustration that seemed to echo through the chamber. But Plankton's resolve was unyielding. He had to get out. He had to show Krabs that he wasn't going down without a fight.

As the tranquilizer continued to take hold, Plankton's movements grew more erratic, his coordination slipping away like grains of sand through his fingers. His vision narrowed to a pinprick, the light from the hatch the only thing keeping him tethered to reality. His breaths grew shallower, his heartbeat a distant drum in his chest. He could feel the darkness closing in, the sedative's embrace threatening to pull him under.

He tried to focus on the hatch, his eye crossing with the effort. The lever was his lifeline, and he had to get it open. But his hands, once so nimble, now felt like overstuffed sausages attached to his wrists. He slapped at the metal, his fingertips barely grazing the edge. Each failure brought with it a wave of drowsiness that threatened to swamp him.

"Must... stay... awake," he mumbled, his voice barely more than a whisper. The light from the hatch grew more enticing, beckoning him to give in to the warm embrace of sleep. But Plankton had faced worse than a simple nap before. He'd been flattened, shrunk, and even temporarily turned into a Krabby Patty. This was just another hurdle in the never-ending saga of his life.

The world around him swayed. His thoughts were as elusive. He knew he was close to losing consciousness, and with it, any hope of victory. With a tremendous effort, he focused his gaze on the hatch, willing his arms to move. His body felt like it was made of cooked spaghetti, but he had to keep fighting.

"Open... open...," he murmured, his voice a hoarse whisper. His hand reached for the lever, slipping off several times before finally catching it. The metal was cold and slippery against his skin, but he held on, his determination stronger than the tranquilizer's grip. He pushed with all his might, his eye sliding shut against his will.

The hatch gave a little, and a burst of cool, fresh water spurted out. The sensation brought a moment of clarity, and Plankton realized that he had to act fast before he lost the battle against his heavy eyelid. He gritted his teeth and pushed with everything he had, the lethargy in his limbs slowly dissipating. The hatch groaned in protest before swinging open with a metallic screech.

The chamber floor tilted and spun beneath him, and he barely registered the rush of water that flooded the room. His eyesight swimming with stars, Plankton threw himself through the opening, his body landing with a thump in a narrow, pipe-like corridor beyond. The water sloshed around him, carrying him away from the chamber. He had no idea where the pipe led, but it was a path to freedom, and he had to follow it.

The tranquilizer made his thoughts as murky as the water around him. He tried to remember the layout of the Chum Bucket, but it was like trying to piece together a jigsaw puzzle that had been tossed into a blender. His brain felt as though it was wrapped in seaweed, each thought a struggle to form. Plankton knew he had to keep moving, but his body didn't seem to agree. His eyelids drooped, threatening to close and pull him into the abyss of sleep.

The pipe leads him right to SpongeBob.

"W-who...what...wha...?" Plankton slurred as the water receded, his legs still feeling like they were made of rubber. His eye blinked rapidly, trying to adjust to the sudden brightness of the lights outside the chamber. He found himself face to face with a concerned SpongeBob, who was staring at him with wide, innocent eyes.

"Plankton?" Sponge Bob's voice was filled with confusion. "What are you doing here?"

Plankton tried to speak, but all that came out was a garbled mess of words. "K-Krabs...tranq-tranq...recipe...nap..."

SpongeBob's confusion grew with every incoherent syllable that tumbled from Plankton's mouth. "What's going on, buddy?"

"Sponge Bob...sorry...so sleepy," Plankton murmured, voice childlike. "Krabs...put me to beddy-bye...but no nap-nap."

Sponge Bob looked around, his spongy brow furrowed. "Mr. Krabs didn't do anything to you, did he?" Concern etched into his porous features as he bent down to help. Plankton was a persistent pest, but Sponge Bob had a soft spot for the tiny creature. He knew deep down that Plankton's heart was in the right place, even if his methods were...less than desirable.

The corridor grew dimmer as the sedative dragged Plankton under. His voice grew quieter, his words slurring into a sleepy lilt. "Krabs...so sneaky...sleepy...patty...nap time..." His eye rolled back and his body went limp. The tranquilizer had done its job, and now Plankton was out cold.

"Oh no, not another one of Mr. Krabs' contraptions!" He didn't know what the crab had been up to, but he knew he had to help. Gently, he propped Plankton up.

The sight of the sleep dart on the ground was the clue he needed. "Oh, Plankton," he whispered, his heart sinking. He tried shaking him gently, calling his name in a soft, urgent voice. Plankton's head lolled back, but he remained deeply asleep.

"Wake up, Plankton," Sponge Bob pleaded, patting his cheek with a spongy hand.
Plankton remained unresponsive. "Mr. Krabs, what have you done?" He whispered to himself, his heart racing.

In all their years of rivalry, Krabs had never used a tranquilizer on his arch-nemesis. This was a new low, even for the penny-pinching crustacean.

"Come on, Plankton," Sponge Bob said, his voice a mix of worry and determination. "You can't just nap here like a jellyfish." He didn't flinch. His eye remained closed, his chest rising and falling in a rhythmic pattern as he breathed in and out, completely oblivious to the world around him.

Krabs had gone too far. He had to get him out somewhere safe where he could sleep off the tranquilizer. Sponge Bob had to get Plankton back to the Chum Bucket, where he could wake up safely.

"Karen, Karen!" Sponge Bob called out as he laid Plankton down on the cold, metal floor of his lab. "Look what happened!"
"Oh dear, Sponge Bob," she said, her voice synthetic but filled with worry. "Mr. Krabs really outdid himself this time."
Sponge Bob nods. He gently patted his friend's cheek, willing him to stir. "Plankton, come on, wake up," he whispered, his voice thick with concern. Plankton was out for the count, so they wait the sedative to wear off.

Plankton's features in sleep, his mouth slightly open, emitting faint snores that were barely audible. Even his eyebrow, which often furrowed in determination or anger, were now soft arches on his forehead.

But as the tranquilizer's grip slowly loosened, the first stirrings of consciousness began to ripple through. His eye flickered open, and for a moment, he stared up at the unfamiliar ceiling, blinking in confusion. The world was a blur of colors and shapes that slowly began to resolve themselves into the familiar surroundings of his Chum Bucket lab.

Groaning, Plankton blinked and slowly, the room came into focus. Karen's screens were alight with concern, and Sponge Bob hovered over him, his spongy hands wringing together nervously.

"Wha...?" Plankton mumbled, but everything came rushing back to him. "Krabs," he spat.

Sponge Bob looked down at him with a mix of confusion and relief. "You were...uh, you were tranquilized," Sponge Bob explained, his voice tentative. Plankton's eye narrowed, and a low growl built in his throat. The fuzzy memories of the chamber and Krabs' laughter grew sharper.

"That cheap, slimy...crustacean! Where is he?"

"Mr. Krabs isn't here," he said. "I brought you here."

Plankton's gaze sharpened, his curiosity piqued. "Why would you do that?" he slurred, his voice thick with distrust. "You work for him."

Sponge Bob's expression was earnest. "Because, Plankton, sometimes doing what's right is more important than where you work. Besides, I'm quitting my job and will work for you; it's what friends do."

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TEETHIES i

Karen watched as the dentist's thumb depressed the plunger, sending the anesthesia into her husband's system. Plankton's eyelid fluttered, and his body grew slack as his eye rolls back in is socket.

"It's ok," she whispered, taking his hand in hers. "It'll all be over soon."

The doctor nodded, satisfied with the effectiveness of the anesthesia. Plankton's quiet snoring deep and even, his eye fully closed, and the tightness around his mouth relaxed. Her hand remained tight around his, her thumb tracing comforting circles on his palm, as if she could somehow transmit her strength to him through their touch. Plankton's hand grew heavy in hers, but she didn't let go. Instead, she squeezed it gently, willing him to feel her presence even in his state.

The doctor followed her gaze, giving Karen a brief nod before turning his attention back to the open mouth of her husband. Plankton's grip on her hand tightened, even in sleep, and she gave a gentle squeeze back. Karen's gaze flitted between her husband's serene face and the crimson-stained cloths being replaced with alarming regularity. Plankton's chest rose and fell rhythmically, a testament to the anesthesia's hold on him. Karen focused on that rhythm; despite the chaos of the surgery, he was still with her.

"We're almost done," he said. "We'll just clean up the site and close the incisions."

Karen watched as the nurse handed the doctor sutures and gauze. The sight of her husband's mouth, swollen and filled with cotton, brought a fresh wave of anxiety. She squeezed his hand again, willing him to come back to her, to wake up and smile and tell her that it was all over. The doctor's movements grew more methodical as he worked, sewing up the small wounds steady. 

The nurse cleaned Plankton's face, wiping away the crimson smears with a gentle touch. "Everything went well," he said, his voice a balm to her frazzled nerves. "The anesthesia will wear off in about an hour. We'll keep him here for a bit to monitor his vitals, but you can stay."

Karen nodded. The nurse began to wheel him out of the surgical suite, and she followed, her hand still clutching his. In the recovery room, she sat by his side, watching, the monitors beeping in a comforting rhythm.

The nurse checked his vitals. She reached out tentatively, brushing a stray antenna.

The nurse nodded. "He'll be waking up soon," she murmured. "You can talk to him, if you'd like."

Karen leaned in closer to Plankton, her voice a soft whisper. "You did it," she said, voice cracking slightly. "It's all over now." She paused, her thumb still tracing circles on his palm. She talked to him as if he were awake. "I know," she continued. "But you're strong. You've always been a strong one. I'll be here, I promise. I'll always be there." A small, sad smile played on her screen, Plankton none the wiser in his sleep.

"But we're going to get through this, I know we are."

Plankton's eyebrow furrowing for a moment, Karen thought he might wake up. But his breathing remained deep and even, his body unresponsive to her words. She leaned in closer. "I know you're in there," she murmured. "I know you can feel me." Remember the time you tried to build a giant robot to get the recipe?"

She searched his face for any sign of recognition, any flicker of understanding. But he remained still, lost in the depths of anesthesia-induced sleep. "You're going to be ok," she assured him, her voice a gentle caress. "We'll go back to our lives, to our little chum bucket of a home."

The nurse checked the monitors and made notes before looking up at Karen. "You can sit with him as long as you like," she said kindly. "Just make sure not to disturb the dressings."

"You're going to be ok," she whispered, her voice a gentle lullaby in the otherwise silent room. "You're going to wake up and everything will be better."

A trickle of drool began to form at the corner of Plankton's mouth, snaking down his cheek. Karen reached for a tissue, carefully dabbing at the drool without disturbing the surgical dressings, a testament to the depth of his unconsciousness, a sign that his body was working to heal itself even as he slept. She found a strange comfort in the mundane task, a reminder that even in the face of surgery and pain, Plankton was still her Plankton, the one who drooled in his sleep when particularly tired.

The drool grew more persistent, and Karen used the edge of the bed to lift his head slightly, placing a fresh pillow under it to keep him comfortable. The nurse nodded approvingly before checking the flow of fluids from the IV. "It's normal," she assured Karen. "His body is just reacting."

Karen felt the weight of not knowing if everything would be okay once Plankton woke up. Would he be in pain? Would he remember her? Would he be the same? Her thoughts swirled in a maelstrom of doubt and hope, a tumultuous sea that threatened to pull her under.

But she remained steadfast, her hand never leaving his. She talked to him, sharing stories of their adventures and their future plans, painting a picture of the life they would have once he was well. The nurse moved quietly around the room, giving them space, but Karen could feel her presence, a comforting presence that reminded her she wasn't alone.

As the minutes ticked by, Plankton's breathing grew less artificial, more like the easy breaths of sleep. His face began to lose the slackness that the anesthesia had imparted.

She searched for any hint of consciousness, and she thought she saw a flicker behind his closed eyelid. "Plankton?" she whispered, leaning in closer. "Can you hear me?"

A low groan was his only response, and she felt his hand tighten around hers. The nurse stepped closer, checking the monitors once more. "He's coming around," she said. "Give him a few minutes, and he'll be back with us."

"I'm here," she murmured, her voice a gentle hum in the quiet room. "You're ok."

The nurse had left, and the only sounds were the rhythmic beeps of the monitors. She took the cloth from the bedside table and gently wiped the remaining drool from Plankton. His grip on her hand grew stronger, and she felt his fingers twitch.

"Hey," she said softly, her voice a soothing melody in the sterile air. "You're ok, Plankton. The surgery is over." She didn't want to startle him, so she kept her voice low, her eyes focused on his. "You're in the recovery room now."

His eyelid fluttered, and Karen felt a surge of hope. The nurse had warned her that he might be groggy, that the anesthesia could take a while to wear off completely. But she had to keep talking to him, to keep him grounded. "You were so brave," she whispered, her thumb tracing lazy circles on his palm. "The bravest little plankton I know."

The hand in hers grew heavier as Plankton's grip tightened, and she knew he was slowly coming back to her. His eye remained closed, but the tension in his face began to change. She watched as his cheek muscles relaxed, the furrow in his brow smoothed out. The nurse had told her first moments after waking up could be disorienting, so she kept her voice calm and steady. "You're in the hospital," she said, her voice a lifeline. "You had your teeth taken out." The room was a blur of beeps and machines, but all she saw was Plankton, her entire world reduced to the man she had promised to take care of.

As minutes ticked by, Plankton's breathing grew stronger, and she watched as his eyelid began to twitch. "That's it," she encouraged, her voice a soft coo. "You're doing great." His hand squeezed hers in response, and she felt a jolt of hope surge through her.

With a final, deep inhale, Plankton's eye cracked open, swimming in a sea of confusion. His gaze found hers, and she offered him a gentle smile. "Hey," she said, her voice a warm embrace. "You made it."

His eyelid fluttered, the weight of sleep and anesthesia still heavy upon him. "Karen?" he croaked, his voice a confused whisper.

"Yes, I'm here," she said, her voice a gentle lullaby. She squeezed his hand, feeling the warmth of his grip as he surfaced from unconsciousness. "You did so well, Plankton."

With painstaking care, she reached for the cup of water the nurse left by the bed. "Do you want some water?" she asked, holding it to his lips. His eye searched hers, took a sip, swallowed, the muscles in his throat moving with the effort. "Take it slow," she advised, her voice soothing.

As the moments passed, Plankton's grip on her hand grew stronger. He took another sip of water and then shifted slightly in the bed, his body trying to adjust to the sudden return of sensation. Karen's heart felt as though it would burst with love and relief as she watched him come back to her. "I'm here," she repeated, her voice a constant in the shifting tides of his consciousness.

The nurse returned, checking the monitors once more before looking at Plankton with a smile. "Welcome back," she said cheerfully. "How are you?"

Plankton's voice was hoarse, but he managed to croak out a response. "Tiwed," he murmured, eye sliding shut again. "That's normal," she said. "He'll be sleepy for a bit, but we'll keep an eye on him."

The nurse dimmed the lights and adjusted the bed, giving Plankton's body a chance to recover from the surgery. 

Gently, she began to hum a tune she knew Plankton loved, a lullaby from their early days together when they had nothing but their dreams and each other. The melody filled the room, wrapping around them like a warm blanket. His breathing grew a little easier, the tension in his hand loosening slightly. It was a small victory, but one she cherished deeply.

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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..."

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