Console Tonsil Emojis & Text

CONSOLE TONSIL iii Plankton's eye fluttered open just enough to see Karen beside him. He felt groggy and disoriented, the events of the day a distant, hazy memory. He then notices Hanna brimming with tears. He blinked slowly, trying to clear the fog. "Karen," he croaked, his voice hoarse from surgery and emotional turmoil. "Hanna?" "I'm so sorry," Hanna choked out with regret. "I didn't mean to...I didn't know." "What happened?" he rasped. Karen's gaze softens. "You had a bit of a shutdown, Plankton," she said gently. "You've had a long day, and everything just became too much." The word 'burden' echoed in Plankton's mind. "Burden?" he managed to croak. "Hanna said something she didn't mean," she began,. "She didn't understand what she was saying, but she hurt you, and she's sorry." The word 'burden' it seemed, that fear had been given a voice. He looked from Karen to Hanna. "Burden," he said, barely a whisper. "Is that what you think of me?" Hanna looked stricken. "No, Plankton, I just..." Her voice trailed off. He had always known that he was different, that his size and his quirks set him apart from others. "It's ok," Karen said, her voice soothing. "We all have moments where we say things without thinking. But what's important is that you know you're not a burden to me, Plankton. You never have been, and never will be." Plankton's word 'burden' ringing. "Hanna didn't mean it, she just didn't understand." But the word had already taken root in Plankton's mind. Burden. The word resonated through Plankton but to be called a burden was something else entirely. "Plankton, I'm sorry," she said again, "I didn't know." But Plankton could only repeat the word. "Burden," he croaked. Karen reached out, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "No, Plankton, you're not a burden," she said, her voice steady and firm. "You're loved and valued, just the way you are." "Burden," he murmured agai. "I'm a burden." "Plankton," Karen said, her voice a gentle reprimand. "You are not a burden." But Plankton's eye remained fixed, voice a hollow echo. "Everything I do is a burden," he murmured. Karen squeezed his shoulder. "Plankton, please, don't say that." "Burden," Plankton whispered, voice barely a breath. Karen's heart broke at the sound of his self-loathing. "Plankton, you're not a burden," she insisted, her voice filled with compassion. "Am a burden," he repeated, the word sticking to his tongue like a sour candy. "What can I do?" Hanna asked, desperation seeping. "Listen," Karen said, turning to face her. "You need to understand that Plankton isn't just being dramatic. This isn't something you can just apologize for and expect him to get over. His brain works differently. He processes stress in a way that's unique to him. And when you said that..." Her voice trailed off, unable to find the right words to express the gravity of the situation. "I'm a burden," Plankton murmured. "You're not a burden, Plankton," she said, her voice a soft, steady rhythm. "You're my friend, and I care about you." "Burden," Plankton said, his voice a quiet rebuttal. He was stuck in a loop of pain and she wasn't sure how to pull him out. "Plankton, you're not," she began, but he cut her off. "Burden," Plankton murmured, his voice a sad refrain. "Plankton," Karen said, her voice a gentle plea. "You're not a burden." "Burden," Plankton replied, his voice a soft echo of despair, "is a burden." Karen tries to find the right words to cut through the fog of his pain. "Plankton," she said firmly, "you are not a burden. You're my husband, and my confidant." "But a burden," Plankton whispered, voice trembling. "I am burden." "Plankton, please," she said. "You're not a burden." "Burden," Plankton said, his voice a stubborn echo. "Everything I do is a burden." "No, Plankton," Karen insisted, her tone firm but filled with care. "You're not a burden. You're an essential part of this home." But the word 'burden' a heavy weight on his soul. "I'm not a burden," he murmured, the words barely a breath. "I'm not." "Right, you are not," Karen said. "You're so much more.." "Burden," his voice a quiet protest. "I'm just a burden." "You're not a burden," she said. "You're a companion, and a vital part of our lives." "But, burden," Plankton whimpered, his voice a sad refrain. "I is burden." Karen took his hand. "You are not," she said, her voice a gentle but firm declaration. "You're a unique and wonderful being, Plankton." "Plankton, burden," Plankton repeated, his voice a whisper of doubt. "I, burden." "Plankton," she said. "You are not a burden. You're a brilliant mind, and family." Plankton's word 'burden' still clinging to the edges of his consciousness. "But, Karen," he whispered, "I am burden." "No," Karen said firmly, voice unyielding. "You are not. You are treasure, a light in this world." Plankton blinked slowly, the word 'burden' echoing in his mind like a mournful chant. "But I burden," he protested, his voice barely above a whisper. "Burdens, Plankton." "You are loved." "Karen," Plankton said, his voice shaking with emotion, "I burden." Karen leaned closer. "Plankton," she said softly, "you're not a burden. You're someone who brings joy and laughter into our lives." Plankton's gaze searched hers, the word 'burden' still clinging to his every thought. "But I burden," he murmured, his voice a sad echo. "You're a part of this home, a piece of our lives." But Plankton's mind was a tumultuous sea, the word 'burden' a stormy island he couldn't escape. "Burden," he said again, his voice a sad admission. Karen's looking for a way to bridge the gap between his pain and the truth. "Plankton," she said, her voice a gentle reminder, "you're not a burden." "Burden," Plankton whispered, the word a sad acceptance in his mind. "I burden." "Plankton," she began, but he talked over her. "Burden," Plankton said, his voice a sad refrain. "Everything I do, burden." "Plankton," she said, her voice a gentle but firm counterpoint. "Burden," Plankton murmured, his voice a quiet echo of despair. "Everything I do, a burden." Karen felt the urgency to reach him, to pull him out of the dark pit of his thoughts. "Plankton, you're not a burden." Plankton's eye remained unfocused, his voice a sad refrain. "Burden," he whispered, the word a painful acceptance. "Everything I do, I burden." "You're not a burden." "But, Karen," Plankton murmured, his voice a sad refrain, "everything I do is burden." Karen's looking for any sign of the vibrant spirit she knew was there. But Plankton's gaze remained vacant, the word 'burden' echoing in his mind like a funeral bell. Karen knew she had to do something, had to find a way to break through the barrier that had been so carelessly built. She took a deep breath, reaching for the one thing she knew could always lift his spirits. "Remember the time we built that sandcastle?" she asked, her voice filled with the warmth of nostalgia. "The one with the moat that kept filling up with jellyfish?" Plankton's eye flickered with the ghost of a smile. "Jellyfish," a soft echo of a happier time. "Yes," Karen said, her voice a gentle nudge. "Remember how we laughed when they kept popping the bubbles in the moat?" A flicker of life returned to Plankton's eye. "Burden, Bubbles," he murmured. Karen clung to the glimmer of hope. "And the karaoke nights? When you sang that sea shanty about the Krabby Patty?" "Krabby Patty," the words a soft echo of happier times. Karen's seeing the first crack in the wall of pain he had built around himself. She took his hand, voice filled with warmth. "Remember pranks we’d play on SpongeBob?" Plankton's gaze flickered with a glimmer of amusement. "Jellyfish," he murmured. Encouraged, Karen pressed on. "And the time we accidentally turned the restaurant into a bubble bath?" "Bubble bath," he murmured, his voice a soft echo of the laughter they had shared. "Yes," Karen said, her voice a gentle caress. "Remember how Mr. Krabs had to wear those ridiculous floaties because he couldn't swim in the bubbles?" Plankton's smile grew. "Floaties," he murmured, a hint of laughter in his voice. Karen squeezed his hand. "See, Plankton. You're not a burden. You're a partner in crime, and the best roommate I could ask for." The room remained still, the only sound the steady beat of Plankton's heart. Then, ever so slowly, his smile grew, pushing back the shadows in his mind. "Karen," he murmured, his voice a soft echo of gratitude. "Thank you." Hanna's pixel eyes widened with hope, the guilt still etched on her face. "Plankton," she said, her voice tentative. "I'm so sorry for what I said. I didn't mean it. You're not a burden. You're...you're like family to us." Plankton's gaze shifted to her, the weight of her words a gentle nudge towards healing. "Family," he murmured, the word a tentative bridge over the chasm of his doubt. "Yes," Hanna said, her voice earnest. "I'm sorry for not understanding before. But I do now. And I'll do better." "You will?" he asked, a tentative thread of hope. "Yes," Hanna said with earnestness. "I'll learn, listen, and I'll be more considerate of how my words can affect." Karen nodded in approval, her grip on Plankton's hand tightening slightly. "That's all we can ask," she said, her tone a gentle reprimand. "For you to understand and do better." Hanna's pixel eyes well up with tears. "I'm so sorry, Plankton," she said, voice shaking. "I had no idea." Plankton's gaze softened, the word 'burden' slowly losing grip. Karen released a sigh of relief, tension in the room easing. "What's important," she said, her voice a gentle guide, "is that we all understand each other better now." Hanna nodded with remorse. "I'll do anything to make it right," she said, a solemn vow. Plankton looked from Karen to Hanna, the word 'burden' losing power. "Ok," he murmured. "I forgive."

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 *

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.

💜💚✨plankton x karen✨💚💜

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

"Come on, it'll be fun," Enid begged, her eyes wide with excitement. Wednesday sat quietly in the corner of the room, her black dress blending into the shadows. She didn't look up from her book, her finger marking her place. "I don't think so," she said, her voice calm and measured. Enid pouted, her cheerleader's spirit momentarily dampened. "But it's the prom dance, Wednesday. Everyone's going to be there!" Wednesday closed her book with a soft thud and looked up, her gaze piercing through Enid's hopeful facade. "I see your enthusiasm, but crowded social gatherings are not my idea of fun." Enid sighed, understanding that pushing the issue would lead nowhere. She sat down next to her friend, her own excitement dimming. "I know, I know. But it's our senior year. It's like, a rite of passage or something." Wednesday's eyes remained on the closed book in her lap. "I'd prefer to pass on that particular rite." Enid leaned in closer, whispering conspiratorially, "But it's the perfect place to observe human behavior. Think of it as an anthropological study." Wednesday's eyes lit up slightly at the thought. "I suppose you have a point," she conceded. "But I'll need to establish some ground rules." Enid clapped her hands together. "Of course! What do you need?" Wednesday thought for a moment before listing her conditions. "First, no slow dancing. Second, I control the music playlist. Third, I wear what I want." Enid nodded eagerly. "Deal! I'll handle the first two. And as for the third, I trust your impeccable taste." Wednesday raised an eyebrow. "My taste is not up for debate, nor is it the issue. It's the school's dress code that requires negotiation." Enid's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Leave that to me," she said, already texting away on her phone. Within minutes, she had secured a meeting with the principal to discuss "alternative fashion choices" for the prom. As the big night approached, Enid sent Wednesday a playlist of dark, rhythmic tunes that she had carefully curated. Each song was a masterpiece of gothic rock, a genre that she knew would resonate with her friend's soul. Meanwhile, Wednesday had been busy designing the perfect dress —a long, flowing gown of midnight black with intricate white lace that looked like it had been plucked from a Victorian mourning ceremony. She had paired it with her favorite black boots and a choker necklace adorned with a single crimson rose. The day of the prom, Enid couldn't contain her excitement. She bustled into the room, her own outfit a vibrant mix of neon colors that seemed to glow in the dim light of the Addams' mansion. "Wednesday, you have to come see this!" she exclaimed, her voice carrying the urgency of a child who had just discovered a secret treasure. Wednesday set down her scalpel, which she had been using to dissect a particularly interesting spider, and followed Enid upstairs. The dress laid out on her bed was indeed a sight to behold. It was a macabre symphony of black taffeta and delicate lace, the skirt adorned with a pattern of thorny vines that looked like they could draw blood with a single brush. The bodice hugged her slender frame, the neckline plunging just low enough to hint at the darkness beneath. "It's... " she began, searching for the right word. "Awful," Enid offered, her tone teasing. Wednesday smirked. "Perfect," she corrected, her voice laden with approval. "It's perfect."

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.

ᴴᵃᵖᵖʸ ᴮⁱʳᵗʰᵈᵃʸ ᵗᵒ ᶜᴾᵁ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ @ALYJACI ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʷ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᵃˢ ʷᵉˡˡ ᵃˢ ᵖᵉᵗ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ᵃʷᵃⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉʳ ᵃʳʳⁱᵛᵃˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏⁱᵗᶜʰᵉⁿ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ʲᵘᵐᵖᵉᵈ⸴ ʰᵃᵖᵖⁱˡʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉˣᶜⁱᵗᵉᵈ‧ "ᴴᵃᵖᵖʸ ᵇⁱʳᵗʰᵈᵃʸ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ!" @ALYJACI

ᵂᵃˡᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᴾʳᵃⁿᵏ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ "ᴾᵉᵃʳˡ ʰᵃˢⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵉˡᵖᵉᵈ ᵘˢ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵖʳᵃⁿᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒʸˢ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ!" ᵀʰᵉ ᴳᵃˡ ᴾᵃˡˢ ʷᵉʳᵉ ʰᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵍⁱʳˡˢ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧ "ᴵ'ᵈ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ᵖᵃʳᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵖʳᵃⁿᵏⁱⁿᵍ!" ᔆᵃⁱᵈ ᴾᵉᵃʳˡ‧ "ᴴᵒʷ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ?" ᵀʰᵉʸ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃⁿᶜʰᵒʳ ˢʰᵃᵖᵉᵈ ʰᵒᵐᵉ‧ "ᴹˢ‧ ᴾᵘᶠᶠ‧‧‧" ᔆʰᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ‧ "ᴼʰ ʰᵉʸ ᴹˢ‧ ᴾᵘᶠᶠ!" "ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵒʳᵍᵒᵗ!" "ᴴᵘʰ?" "ᴬᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᵘʳ ᵈᵃᵗᵉ ᵗᵒⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᵈⁱᵈ ᵗᵒ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ! ᴵ'ᵐ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵒᵐᵉ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷᵉᵈ ʰᵉʳ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉˢᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵃˡ ᵖᵃˡˢ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ᵖʳᵃⁿᵏᵉᵈ!" ᵀʰᵉʸ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰᵉᵈ‧ "ᴼʰ!" "ᴵ'ˡˡ ᶜᵃˡˡ ᴮʳᵃⁿ ᶠˡᵒᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵐᵃᵗʰ ᶜˡᵃˢˢ‧‧‧" ᴾᵉᵃʳˡ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ʰᵉʳ ᵖʰᵒⁿᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵈⁱᵃˡ ʰⁱˢ ⁿᵘᵐᵇᵉʳ‧ "ᴰⁱᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠⁱⁿⁱˢʰ ᵒᵘʳ ʰᵒᵐᵉʷᵒʳᵏ?" "ᴵ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷᵉ ʰᵃᵈ ᵃⁿʸ‧‧‧" "ᴵ'ᵐ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵖʳᵃⁿᵏⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ!" ᴾᵉᵃʳˡ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ʰᵃⁿᵍⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ‧ "ᴵ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵍᵒ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵇⁱᵍᵍᵉʳ ᵖʳᵃⁿᵏ‧‧‧" "ᶜᵃⁿ ʷᵉ ˡᵉⁿᵍᵗʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵖʳᵃⁿᵏ ᵒⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ?" ᔆᵒ ᵗʰᵉʸ ˢⁿᵉᵃᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧ "ᔆʰᵒᵘˡᵈ ʷᵉ ᵖˡᵃⁿ ⁱⁿˢᵗᵉᵃᵈ ᵒᶠ ʷⁱⁿᵍⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᵗ? ᴵ ᵐᵉᵃⁿ ᵐʸ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ʷᵉ'ᵈ ᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᴵ'ᵐ ᵃ ᶜᵘˢᵗᵒᵐᵉʳ!" ᴾᵉᵃʳˡ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉ ᵐᵃᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵒ ᵗʳᵘˢᵗⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ˢᵒ ⁱᵗ ⁿᵉᵉᵈˢ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ‧‧‧" "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵈᵒᵉˢ ʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ʰᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᵍⁱʳˡˢ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ?" ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ ᶜᵘᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᶠᶠ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧ "ᴵ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᴵ'ᵈ ᵇᵉ ᵍᵒⁿᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ⸴ ˢᵒ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵇᵉᵗ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ˢᵉᵉ ⁱᵗ ᶜᵒᵐⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᶠ ʰᵉ ˢᵃʷ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʰⁱᵐ ʳᵉᵃˡ ʷᵉˡˡ⸴ ᵉˣᶜᵉᵖᵗ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵃᶠʳᵃⁱᵈ ᵒᶠ ᵐᵉ‧‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵈᵒᵉˢ ˢᶜⁱᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᵉˣᵖᵉʳⁱᵐᵉⁿᵗˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵃⁿᵗˢ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵃⁱⁿ ᵇᵘˢⁱⁿᵉˢˢ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ‧" "ᴴᵉ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵍⁿⁱˢᵉ ᵃⁿʸ ᵒᶠ ᵘˢ‧‧‧" "ᔆʰᵒᵘˡᵈⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵉ ˢᵉᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵈᵒⁱⁿᵍ?" ᴹˢ‧ ᴾᵘᶠᶠ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ‧ "ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵍᵒ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵗʰᵉᵐ‧ "ᴼⁿᶜᵉ ʷᵉ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ʰᵉ ⁱˢ⸴ ʷᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ‧‧‧" "ᔆˡᵉᵉᵖⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ᵇᵉᵈ‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶜᵒᵐᵉˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧ "ᴵ ᵖᵉᵉᵏᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵐʸ ˢᵉⁿˢᵒʳˢ ⁱⁿᵈⁱᶜᵃᵗᵉᵈ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵘᵖ⁻ ᔆᵗᵃⁱʳˢ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵈʳᵒᵒᵐ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵒ ˡᵉᵗ'ˢ ˢᵉᵉ⸴ ʷʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ʷᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵈᵒ?" "ᵂᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᶜʰᵃⁿᵍᵉ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜˡᵒᶜᵏˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᶜᵃˡᵉⁿᵈᵃʳˢ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ'ˢ ᵃ ᶜˡᵒᶜᵏ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵈ‧‧‧" "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ˢⁿᵉᵃᵏ ⁱⁿ!" ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ "ᵂᵉ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵃᵍʳᵉᵉ ᵒⁿ ᵃ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ‧‧‧" "ᴵ'ᵈ ˢᵃʸ ⁿᵒᵒⁿ!" "ᴺᵒᵒⁿ ⁱᵗ ⁱˢ ᵗʰᵉⁿ!" "ᵂᵉ'ˡˡ ᶜʰᵃⁿᵍᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵃˡᵉⁿᵈᵃʳˢ ᵗᵒ ᶜʰʳⁱˢᵗᵐᵃˢ ᵈᵃʸ!" ᴾᵉᵃʳˡ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰᵉᵈ‧ "ᴵ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ! ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵈᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜˡᵒᶜᵏˢ ᵈᵒʷⁿˢᵗᵃⁱʳˢ⸴ ᴹˢ‧ ᴾᵘᶠᶠ; ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵈᵒ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵖᵖˡⁱᵃⁿᶜᵉˢ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ᵖᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ʰᵃⁿᵈˢ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐⁱᵈᵈˡᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡⁱᶠᵗᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵘᵖ⸴ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵒ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᵈᵉˢⁱᵍⁿᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵃˢᵏˢ‧ ᔆᵒ ˢᵃⁿᵈʸ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵈʳᵒᵒᵐ⸴ ᶜᵃʳᵉᶠᵘˡ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ⁿᵒⁱˢᵉ‧ ᔆˡᵒʷˡʸ ᵖᵘˢʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ⸴ ˢʰᵉ ˢᵗᵒᵒᵈ ᵒⁿ ʰᵉʳ ᵗᵒᵉˢ ˢᵒ ᵃˢ ᵗᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵈⁱˢᵗᵘʳᵇ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᶜʳᵃʷˡᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜˡᵒᶜᵏ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶜʰᵃⁿᵍᵉᵈ ⁱᵗ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢⁿᵒʳᵉ⸴ ˢᵗⁱᶠˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵘʳᵍᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍⁱᵍᵍˡᵉ‧ ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ᶠⁱˣⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜˡᵒᶜᵏ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵉᵉˢ ᵗʰᵉ ʷⁱⁿᵈᵒʷ'ˢ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉᵈ⸴ ˢʰᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉᵉᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵈᵒʷⁿ⁻ ˢᵗᵃⁱʳˢ‧ "ᴵ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵃ ᶜʰʳⁱˢᵗᵐᵃˢ ᵗʳᵉᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵒᵘʳ ᵍᵃʳᵃᵍᵉ!" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ "ᴸᵉᵗ'ˢ ᵍᵉᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ⁱⁿᵛᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷʳᵃᵖ ᵗʰᵉᵐ!" "ᴴᵒʷ ᵃʳᵉ ʷᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ʰᵉʳᵉ?" "ᴾᵉʳʰᵃᵖˢ ʷᵉ ˢⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵒˡⁱᵈᵃʸ'ˢ ᵐᵘˢⁱᶜ ˢᵒⁿᵍˢ ˡᵒᵘᵈ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵗᵉˣᵗᵉᵈ ᵐʸ ᵈᵃᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ⁱⁿ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʳᵃⁿᵏ! ᴵ ᵐᵃʸ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵗᵉˣᵗᵉᵈ ᴮʳᵃⁿ ᶠˡᵒᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢ‧‧‧" ᴾᵉᵃʳˡ ᶜʰᵘᶜᵏˡᵉᵈ⸴ ᵗᵘʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗˢ‧ "ᔆᵃⁿᵗᵃ ᔆᵃⁿᵗᵃ'ˢ ʰᵃˢ ᵍᵒᵗ ʰⁱˢ ʲᵒˡˡʸ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ᵉʸᵉˢ ᵒⁿ ᵐᵉ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ‧ "ᵂʰᵃᵗ ⁱˢ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ‧‧‧" ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃᵗᵉ⸴ ʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ ᵗᵃᵏᵉⁿ ᵃᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵃʷ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ⁱⁿ ʰᵃᵗˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢʷᵉᵃᵗᵉʳˢ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵘᵖ; ⁿᵒʷ⸴ ʷᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ ᵒᵘʳ ᵍⁱᶠᵗˢ!" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʰᵃⁿᵈᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʳᵉˢᵉⁿᵗˢ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ? ᵂʰᵉʳᵉ'ˢ ᵒᵘʳ‧‧‧" "ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ⸴ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉˢᵗ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵉⁿ ᵐᵉ!" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶜᵘᵗ ⁱⁿ⸴ ᵘⁿʷʳᵃᵖᵖⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉʳˢ ˡᵃᵇᵉˡˢ 'ᵗᵒ ᵏᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵖˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ' ʰᵃᵖᵖⁱˡʸ‧ "ᴵ‧‧‧" "ᴾᵉᵃʳˡ⸴ ʰᵒʷ'ᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᴵ ⁿᵉᵉᵈᵉᵈ ᵃ ⁿᵉʷ ᵛᵃᶜᵘᵘᵐ?" "ᴼʰ⸴ ᴮʳᵃⁿ; ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ʰᵒᵘˢᵉ'ˢ ᵃ ᵐᵉˢˢ!" "ᴵ ⁿᵉᵉᵈᵉᵈ ᵃ ᵍᵖˢ ˢʸˢᵗᵉᵐ!" "ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ʷᵉˡᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᴹˢ‧ ᴾᵘᶠᶠ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᶠʳᵃⁿᵗⁱᶜᵃˡˡʸ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵖᵖˡⁱᵃⁿᶜᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃʸ ˢᵉᵗ ᵃˢ ᶜʰʳⁱˢᵗᵐᵃˢ‧ "ᴵᵗ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ᵇᵉ ᶜʰʳⁱˢᵗᵐᵃˢ; ᴵ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ʷʳᵃᵖᵖᵉᵈ⸴ ʷʰʸ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃˡˡ ᵐʸ ⁱⁿᵛᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ‧‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵉᵉᵈˢ ᵗᵒ ᵘⁿʷʳᵃᵖ ʰⁱˢ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵃⁿᵗᵃ ᔆᵃⁿᵗᵃ'ˢ ʰᵃˢ ᵍᵒᵗ ʰⁱˢ ʲᵒˡˡʸ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ᵉʸᵉˢ ᵒⁿ ᵐᵉ‧‧‧" ᶠʳᵘˢᵗʳᵃᵗᵉᵈ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗʳᵉᵉ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ʰⁱˢ ˡᵃᵇᵉˡ 'ᵗᵒ ᵖˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵏʳᵃᵇˢ' ʷʳᵃᵖᵖᵉᵈ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵘⁿʷʳᵃᵖᵖᵉᵈ ⁱᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵉᶜʳᵉᵗ ᵇᵒᵗᵗˡᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃᵖᵉʳ ᵒᶠ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ‧ ᵁⁿᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵈⁱˢˡᵒᵈᵍᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˡⁱᵈ⸴ ʰᵉ ˢᵐᵃˢʰᵉˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍˡᵃˢˢ ᵗᵒ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵏ ⁱᵗ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ‧ ᴱˣᶜⁱᵗᵉᵈˡʸ ᵘⁿᶠᵒˡᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖⁱᵉᶜᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵖᵃᵖᵉʳ ʳᵒˡˡᵉᵈ⸴ ⁱᵗ ˢᵃʸˢ 'ʸᵒᵘ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵖʳᵃⁿᵏᵉᵈ' ᵒⁿ ⁱᵗ‧ ᴬˡˡ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵘⁿᵛᵉⁱˡᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ʷⁱⁿᵈᵒʷˢ ˢʰᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵈᵃʳᵏ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ ᴴᵘᵐⁱˡⁱᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉᵐᵇᵃʳʳᵃˢˢᵉᵈ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʳⁱᵖˢ ᵘᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒˡˡ ᵒᶠ ᵖᵃᵖᵉʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍᵒᵉˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ‧ "ᔆᵉᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃᵗ ˢᶜʰᵒᵒˡ ᴾᵉᵃʳˡ‧‧‧" ᴮʳᵃⁿ ᶠˡᵒᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢ ˡᵉᶠᵗ‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵃˡ ᵖᵃˡˢ ʳᵉᵐᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢⁱᵍʰᵉᵈ‧ "ᴴᵉ'ˡˡ ᶜᵃˡᵐ ᵈᵒʷⁿ⸴ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ?" "ᴴᵃʳᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵃʸ‧‧‧" ᔆʰᵉ ᵃᵈᵐⁱᵗˢ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉˢᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ʳᵉᵛᵉʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵖᵖˡⁱᵃⁿᶜᵉˢ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ?" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ'ˢ ˢⁱˡᵉⁿᵗˡʸ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ "ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵒⁿ⸴ ʷᵉ ᵖʳᵃⁿᵏᵉᵈ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢʰᵉᵈ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵍᵃˡ ᵖᵃˡˢ ᶜᵃᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵘᵖ‧ "ᴴᵉʸ ᵇᵘᵈ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ?" ᴴᵉ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ˡᵃˢʰ ᵒᵘᵗ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵐᵃᵈ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵃⁿᵍʳʸ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃʸ ᑫᵘⁱᵉᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ʷᵒʳᵈ‧‧‧ "ᴵ ⁱⁿᵛⁱᵗᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ‧" ᴾᵉᵃʳˡ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ˢᵖᵃᶜᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵉ?" "ᴸᵉᵗ'ˢ ᶜᵃˡˡ ⁱᵗ ᵃ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵍᵃˡ ᵖᵃˡˢ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁱⁿᶠᵒʳᵐᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵍᵃˡ ᵖᵃˡˢ‧ "ᵂᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵈⁱᵈ ⁱᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃˡˡ ⁱⁿ ᶠᵘⁿ‧‧" "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ; ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ʰᵘʳᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵖʳⁱᵈᵉ?" "ʸᵉˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵃᵖᵒˡᵒᵍⁱˢᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ʷᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ‧" "ᵀʰᵃⁿᵏˢ; ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ˢᵘʳᵉ ˢʰᵉ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵃʸ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳᵈ 'ˡᵒᵛᵉ' ⁱⁿ ᵃ ˢᵉⁿᵗᵉⁿᶜᵉ⸴ ˡᵉᵗ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰᵉ ˢʰᵒʷᵉᵈ ᵃᶠᶠᵉᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵃᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ʷᵃʸ‧‧‧ "ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ʷᵉˡᶜᵒᵐᵉ; ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ‧‧" ˢʰᵉ ᵗᵘᶜᵏᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ⁱⁿ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᶠʳᵉᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵉˡˡ ᵐᵉ ᵃⁿʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵃʸ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢʰᵉ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ ʰᵉ'ˢ ˢⁿᵒʳⁱⁿᵍ‧ "ᔆˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵗⁱᵍʰᵗ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧‧"

"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.

W ired I ntegrated F emale E lectroencephalograph Любимая жена!

ᵂᵒʳˢᵗ ᴱⁿᵉᵐʸ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 𝟗𝟑𝟎 ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ .ೃ࿐ 𝚃𝚠: 𝙱𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍 ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒⁿ ᵉᵐᵖˡᵒʸᵉᵉ ʳᵉᵗʳᵉᵃᵗ; ᵃ ᵖᵉʳᶠᵉᶜᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗʳⁱᵏᵉ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ ᵇʸ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ‧ "ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ⸴ ᴵ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃˡᵏ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵒᶠᶠⁱᶜᵉ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵗᵉˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᴵ ˢᵗᵉᵃˡ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ; ʷᵉ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶜʰᵃⁿᵍᵉ ᵘᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵘˡᵉˢ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˢᶜᵃⁿⁿᵉᵈ ᵐᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳⁿᵃˡ ᵈᵃᵐᵃᵍᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ʷᵉᵃᵏⁿᵉˢˢ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ˢᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵈᵒ ʷʰᵃᵗᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵒᵖ ᵐᵉ ᵉˣᶜᵉᵖᵗ ᶠᵒʳ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᵃᶜᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵇᵉˡⁱᵉᵛᵉ? ʸᵒᵘ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ; ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ ᵘˢᵉᵈ ˢʸᵐᵖᵃᵗʰʸ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ⁱⁿ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵖˡᵃⁿˢ!" ᴹʳ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵃʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ᵗᵒ ᶜʳʸ‧ "ᴾˡᵉᵃˢᵉ!" "ʸᵒᵘ ᶜʰⁱᶜᵏᵉⁿ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵏⁱᶜᵏᵉᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃˡˡ ʰⁱˢ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ᶠˡʸ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰⁱᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃˡˡ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ᵗʰᵘᵈ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃᶜᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʷᵃˢ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ˢᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿˡʸ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵗʳᵃᶜᵏˢ; ⁿᵒᵗ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵈⁱᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵐᵒᵛᵉ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵇˡᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ᵗᵒ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ?" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵏⁿᵉˡᵗ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉʳ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ!" ᴴᵉ ᵇᵉⁿᵗ ᵈᵒʷⁿ⸴ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˡᵃᵗᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ʷᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗʳᵘᵗʰ‧ "ᴼʰ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵒᵇᵇᵉᵈ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧‧" ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ ᶜʳʸⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˡᵉᵃⁿᵉᵈ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉᵃʳ ˢʰᵃˡˡᵒʷ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵈᵉˢᵖᵉʳᵃᵗᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍʳᵃᵇᵇᵉᵈ ᵃ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵃᵘⁿᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵒᵖⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉⁿ‧ "ᶜᵃⁿ ᵃ ᵏʳᵃᵇᵇʸ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ ˢᶜᵉⁿᵗ ᵒᶠ ˢᵐᵉˡˡ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵘᵖ?" ᴺᵒ ⁱⁿᵈⁱᶜᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷʰᵃᵗˢᵒᵉᵛᵉʳ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵖʰᵒⁿᵉ ⁿᵘᵐᵇᵉʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ‧ "ᴴᵉˡˡᵒ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃⁿˢʷᵉʳᵉᵈ‧ "ʸᵒᵘʳ ʰᵉˡᵖ ⁱˢ ⁿᵉᵉᵈᵉᵈ‧" "ᴰⁱᵈ ᵐʸ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʰⁱˢ ʳⁱˢᵏ ᵇʳᵃⁱⁿ ᵈᵃᵐᵃᵍᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃˢᵗʰᵐᵃ?" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧ "ᴴᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵉˡˡ ᵐᵉ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃˢᵗʰᵐᵃ⸴ ᵃˢ ᴵ ʰᵘʳᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒⁿᶜᵉ ʰᵉ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵐᵉ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵒⁿˡʸ ⁿᵒᵈᵈᵉᵈ ʳᵉˢᵖᵒⁿˢᵉ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒ ˢᵒʳʳʸ; ᴵ'ᵈ ᵈᵒ ᵃⁿʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵘⁿᵈᵒ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʲᵘˢᵗ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉ ᶜᵒⁿⁿⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ⸴ ᵖˡᵉᵃᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵇᵉᵍᵍⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ʷᵒʳˢᵗ ᵉⁿᵉᵐʸ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵉᵐᵖᵃᵗʰʸ‧ "ᴴᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ˢⁿᵉᵃᵏ ⁱⁿ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵃⁿⁿᵒᵘⁿᶜᵉᵈ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵇᵃʷˡᵉᵈ‧ "ᴴᵉ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃ ᶜʰⁱᶜᵏᵉⁿ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ⸴ ʰᵉ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵐᵉ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ˡᵉᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʳᵉˢᵗᵃᵘʳᵃⁿᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ʷᵒʳʳʸ‧ ᴺᵒʷ⸴ ˡᵒᵒᵏ!" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉ ʷᵃᵛᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ˢᶜᵃⁿⁿᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᵂʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ˢᶜᵃⁿ ˢᵃʸ⸴ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ?" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ‧ "ᶜᵒᵐᵃ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵗᵒᵒᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵘᵗᵗᵉʳ ˢʰᵒᶜᵏᵉᵈ ˢⁱˡᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᵒⁿᶜᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᶜᵃⁿˢ ⁱⁿᵈⁱᶜᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᶜᵒᵐᵃ‧ "ᴴⁱˢ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰˢ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʷᵉᵃᵏᵉʳ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍᵒᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵉᑫᵘⁱᵖᵐᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉˡᵖ ʰⁱᵐ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰᵉ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ⁱⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵉʸᵉ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵘⁿᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢⁿᵉˢˢ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵒᶠ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢʰᵘᵗ ᵒᶠᶠ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳˡᵈ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵒᶠ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʷᵉʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵒᵒᵈ ᵇᵘˢⁱⁿᵉˢˢ ˢᵖˡⁱᵗ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢʰⁱᵖ‧ "ᴬˢˢᵘᵐⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ⸴ ᵈᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ʰᵉ'ˡˡ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵈᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃᵈᵐⁱᵗᵗᵉᵈ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵈᵃʸ⸴ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᵉᵐᵖˡᵒʸᵉᵉˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᴷʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᴷʳᵃᵇ'ˢ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉᵈ ᵘⁿᵗⁱˡ ᶠᵘʳᵗʰᵉʳ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ⁿᵒ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ʰᵉ ˡᵃˢᵗ ˢᵃʷ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ʰᵉᵃʳ ᵐᵉ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ʷⁱˡˡ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵇˡᵃᵐᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵃⁿˣⁱᵒᵘˢˡʸ ᵗᵃˡᵏᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷʰᵒ'ˢ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵘⁿᵃʷᵃʳᵉ‧ "ᴵ ᵐⁱˢˢ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʷᵉ'ʳᵉ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢ⸴ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵐʸ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᵐᵒⁿᵉʸ ᶜᵒⁿˢᵘᵐᵉᵈ ᵐᵉ‧ ᴮᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ⁿᵒʷ ᵈʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˡˡ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵐᵉ‧ ᴵ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵐⁱˢˢᵉˢ ʸᵒᵘʳ ⁿᵃᵍᵍⁱⁿᵍ‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵃʷᵏʷᵃʳᵈˡʸ ˡᵉᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵃ ᵍⁱᵍᵍˡᵉ‧ "ᴵ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵐᵉᵃⁿᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵃ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿ‧‧‧" ᔆᵗᵃʳᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᶜʳʸ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ⸴ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᵘᵖ ᵒᶠ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳⁱᵉˢ‧ "ᴵ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱᵈᵉᵃ ᵗᵒ ᵖʳᵃⁿᵏ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᶜʰᵒᵒˡ ʷᵃˢ ˢᵒ ᶠᵘⁿⁿʸ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᶠᵃᶜᵉˢ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉᵈ‧ "ᵂᵉ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ'ᵛᵉ ˢʰᵒʷⁿ ᵒᵘʳ ᵖᵉᵉʳˢ ʰᵒʷ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʲᵒᵇ ᵈᵒⁿᵉ‧‧‧" ᶜʰᵘᶜᵏˡⁱⁿᵍ ⁿᵒʷ‧ "ᔆʰᵒʷ 'ᵉᵐ ʷʰᵒ'ᵈ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵃˢᵗ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰ‧‧‧" ᔆᵒᵐᵉ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ ʷᵉˡˡᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ⁱⁿ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵉʸᵉˢ‧ "ᴵ'ᵈ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ᵃˡˡ ᵐʸ ᵐᵒⁿᵉʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵐʸ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧" ᵀʰᵉ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵍʳᵃᵈᵘᵃˡˡʸ ʳᵉᵍᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢⁿᵉˢˢ ʰᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᶠᵃʳᵃʷᵃʸ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉ⸴ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵍⁿⁱˢᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵃˢ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ⸴ ⁿᵒʳ ʷʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ ˡⁱᵐᵇᵒˡⁱᵏᵉ⸴ ʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ʸᵉᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵘʳʳᵒᵘⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍˢ⸴ ᵉʸᵉ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ˢʰᵘᵗ‧ ᵀʰᵉⁿ ʷᵒʳᵈˢ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᶜˡᵉᵃʳᵉʳ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᶠᵃʳᵃʷᵃʸ‧ ᴴᵉ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳᵈˢ ˡⁱᵏᵉ 'ˢᵒʳʳʸ' ᵃⁿᵈ 'ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ' ᵃⁿᵈ 'ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ' ᵇᵘᵗ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ʷʰᵒ ˢᵖᵒᵏᵉ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ʷᵒʳᵈˢ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵐᵒⁿⁱᵗᵒʳᵉᵈ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ⸴ ˢᵒ ˢʰᵉ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ'ˢ ᵃ ᶜʰᵃⁿᵍᵉ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ᵈᵉᵗᵉᶜᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵖᵒˢˢⁱᵇˡᵉ ʳᵉᵛⁱᵛᵃˡ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʷᵃˢ ˢⁱᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ˢᵗʳᵃⁱᵍʰᵗᵉʳ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵐᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵉᵗ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ; ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʳᵉᵐᵒᵛᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵉᑫᵘⁱᵖᵐᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ⁱᵗ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᶜʳⁱᵉˢ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵐᵉ ˡᵉˢˢ ᵈⁱˢᵗᵃⁿᵗ ˢᵒᵘⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵉⁿˢᵉˢ ʳᵉᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ‧ ᴺᵒʷ ʷᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᵐᵃⁿᵃᵍᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶠˡᵘᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ‧ "ᴬᵘ‧‧‧" ᔆⁱᵍʰᵗ ʳᵉᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗ ʸᵉᵗ ʳᵉᵍⁱˢᵗᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ʷʰᵒ'ˢ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᵂʰᵃᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ‧‧‧" ᶠⁱⁿᵃˡˡʸ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ⸴ ʰᵉ ˢᵃʷ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵐⁱˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵗ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʳᵉᵐᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ ᶜᵒⁿᶠᵘˢᵉᵈ‧ "ᴴⁱ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ! ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ?" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢʷᵉᵉᵗˡʸ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ‧ "ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵃʸ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏⁱⁿᵍ?" ᴬˢᵏᵉᵈ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ‧ ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ ⁿᵒᵗ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵉᵗᵉˡʸ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ⁿᵒʳᵐᵃˡ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ʰᵃʳᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢᵗʳᵘᵍᵍˡᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʳᵉᵐᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ ᵍʳᵒᵍᵍʸ‧ ᴹᵉᵐᵒʳⁱᵉˢ ˢᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿˡʸ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵃˢ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ ᶜʰⁱᶜᵏᵉⁿ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵇᵉᵗʷᵉᵉⁿ⸴ ⁿᵒʳ ʰᵒʷ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ʰᵃˢ ᵖᵃˢˢᵉᵈ‧ ᴴᵉ ⁿᵃʳʳᵒʷᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢᵃⁱᵈ "ᶜʰⁱᶜᵏᵉⁿ" ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉᵐ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᵖʳᵒᶜᵉᵉᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʰⁱᵐ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶜʳⁱᵉᵈ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʳᵉᵃᶜʰᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗᵒ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ⸴ ʷʰᵒ ᵉᵐᵇʳᵃᶜᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᶠᵒʳᵐᵉʳ ᵉⁿᵉᵐʸ‧ "ᴵ ᶠᵒʳᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧"

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.

ᴵⁿ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᴰʳᵉᵃᵐˢ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ‘ᴳᵒᵒᵈ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ! ᴳᵘᵉˢˢ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᴵ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠᵃᵛᵒᵘʳⁱᵗᵉ!’ ᴴᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇˢ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉ, ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉᵈ‧ ‘ᴷʳᵃᵇᵇʸ ᴾᵃᵗᵗⁱᵉˢ!’ ‘ᵀᵒ ᵘˢ‧‧’ ‘ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ?’ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ’ˢ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗᵉᵈ‧ ᔆᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿˡʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵃ ᵗᵃᵖ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈᵉʳ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧ “ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ!” ᴴᵉ ˢⁿᵃᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ, ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ’ˢ ʰᵘᵍᵍⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᵖⁱˡˡᵒʷ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵒᵗ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ⁱᵗ’ˢ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵗʳᵘᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵉⁿᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵗᵒᵍᵉᵗʰᵉʳ, ᵐᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵖᵃᵗᵗⁱᵉˢ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵈʳᵒᵒˡⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿˢᵗᵉᵃᵈ‧ “ᴶᵘˢᵗ ᵍᵉᵗ…” “ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ; ᴵ’ᵐ ᵘᵖ!” ᴴᵉ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ‧ ‘ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ⁱˢ ᵃ ᵇᵘˢⁱⁿᵉˢˢ ʳⁱᵛᵃˡ ʷʰᵒ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ˡᵃˢᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢʰⁱᵖ’ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵐⁱⁿᵈˡᵉˢˢˡʸ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ ʷⁱᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ᵃ ᵖˡᵃⁿ ᵒʳ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵐᵒᵗⁱᵛᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ! ᴴᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˢⁿᵘᶜᵏ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᵈⁱᵈ ʰⁱˢ ʲᵒᵇ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳⁱˡˡ‧ “ᵂᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ᵗᵉᵃᵐ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ‧‧” ˢⁱⁿᵍˢ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ, ⁿᵒᵗ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ ᵒᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ‘ᴳᵉᵗ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵖʳⁱᵈᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵃˢᵏ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ⁱᵗ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ʷⁱᵗʰ! ʸᵒᵘ ʷⁱˡˡ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵈᵒ ᵃⁿʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˢᵗᵃⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ’ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ‧ ᴷⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵉⁿᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵏⁱᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵇᵘᵗ ʳⁱˢᵏⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᵗ, ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ “ᴴᵉʸ, ᵏⁱᵈ…” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ “ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ…” “ᴵ ʷⁱˡˡ ⁿᵒᵗ ᶠᵃˡˡ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ, ˢⁱˡˡʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ!” “ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ…” ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗᵉᵈ‧ “ᴼᶠ ᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ ⁱᵗ’ˢ ʸᵒᵘ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ; ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁿ!” ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ‧ “ᴵ…” “ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ᵇᵉˡᵒⁿᵍ ʰᵉʳᵉ; ᵍᵉᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ!” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᵖᵒⁱⁿᵗᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵖᵃᵗᵘˡᵃ ᵃᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃˢ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵗʰʳᵉʷ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ʸᵉˡˡ ⁱⁿ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵃ ʷᵃʸ‧ “ᴼʰ ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈ…” ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ʷᵒʳᵏ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˢᵗᵃʸᵉᵈ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ʰᵉ ˡᵃⁿᵈᵉᵈ ⁿᵉⁱᵗʰᵉʳ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ʰᵒᵐᵉ ⁿᵒʳ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᴷʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ‧ ᴴᵉ ˢᵃᵗ ʳᵉˡⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᶜᵉⁿᵉ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶜʳⁱᵉᵈ‧ ᴴᵉ ˡⁱᵏᵉᵈ ʰᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᶜʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵃⁿ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ; ʸᵉᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵃˢ ˢᵗⁱᶠˡⁱⁿᵍ ʷʰⁱᵐᵖᵉʳˢ ᵃᵗ ‘ʸᵒᵘ ᵈᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵇᵉˡᵒⁿᵍ ʰᵉʳᵉ’ ʳⁱⁿᵍˢ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ‧ ᴴᵉ’ˢ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ, ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʳⁱˢᵏˢ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ‧ ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵃˢ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿᵃˡˡʸ ʰᵘʳᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃˢ ˢᵘᶜʰ‧ ᴼᶠ ᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ, ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᶠᵒⁱˡ ʰⁱˢ ᵖˡᵃⁿˢ ᵃᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ, ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵈⁱᵈ ˢᵒ ʷⁱᵗʰ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴺᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿ ʰᵒʷ ʰᵉ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃʷᵉ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵏⁱᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ ᵂⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ˢⁱᵍʰ ʰᵉ’ᵈ ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ‧ ᶠᵒʳ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ‧ ᴬᵗ ᶜˡᵒˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ, ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʷ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ‧ “ᴼʰ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ…” ˢʰᵉ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ‧ “ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ, ʷʰᵃᵗ…” ᔆʰᵉ ʰᵉˡᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵃ ⁿᵒᵗᵉ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ˢᵃʸˢ ‘ᴵ ʰⁱᵗ ʳᵒᶜᵏ ᵇᵒᵗᵗᵒᵐ ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉ ᴵ ᵈᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵉᵉᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ‧ ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵈᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵇᵉˡᵒⁿᵍ ˢᵒ ᴵ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ⁱᵗ ᵇᵉˢᵗ‧ ᴺᵒ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ˢᵗʳᵉˢˢᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵐᵉ ᵃⁿʸ ˡᵒⁿᵍᵉʳ; ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ’ ᔆᵃⁱᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵒᵗᵉ‧ “ᴴᵉ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᴷʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ʰᵃᵛᵉⁿ’ᵗ ʸᵉᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉ! ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ʰᵉ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉ?” “ᴵ’ᵐ ˢᵒ ˢᵒʳʳʸ; ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ‧‧” ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰᵉʳ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ˢʰᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃʸ’ˢ ᵉᵛᵉⁿᵗˢ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ ʰᵒʷ ᵇᵃᵈˡʸ ʰᵉ ᵗʳᵉᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ‘ᵂᵃⁱᵗ, ʰᵉ ᵖᵘᵗ ʳᵒᶜᵏ ᵇᵒᵗᵗᵒᵐ…’ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵃⁿ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵘˢ ˢᵗᵒᵖ‧ ᴿᵒᶜᵏ ᴮᵒᵗᵗᵒᵐ’ˢ ᵃⁿ ᵘⁿˢᵉᵗᵗˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ, ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵏⁿᵉʷ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵉᵛᵉⁿᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ˢᵃʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ˢᵒ ᵇᵃᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ, ʰᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵒᶠᵗ ᶜʳⁱᵉˢ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵏᵉᵖᵗ ˢᵒᵇᵇⁱⁿᵍ‧ “ᴼʰ, ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧” ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵃˢᵖᵉᵈ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵃˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵉᵗᵉˡʸ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵒᵛᵉʳʷʰᵉˡᵐᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵉᵐᵒᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᵒᵛᵉʳ, ʰⁱˢ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵐᵒᵛᵉᵐᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵃʳᵉˡʸ ʳᵒᶜᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵒʳᵗʰ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʷʰⁱᵐᵖᵉʳᵉᵈ‧ “ᴵ’ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ!” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵃⁿ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʷ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˡᵉᵃⁿ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ʰⁱᵐ‧ “ᴵ ʷᵃˢ ʷʳᵒⁿᵍ‧ ᴵ ʷᵃˢ ᵇᵘˢʸ, ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ⁱˢⁿ’ᵗ ᵃⁿʸ ᵉˣᶜᵘˢᵉ ᵗᵒ ʰᵘʳᵗ ʸᵒᵘ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ᵐᵉ ʰᵃᵖᵖʸ; ᵒ ˢᵒ ʰᵃᵖᵖʸ!” “ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ᵇᵉˡᵒⁿᵍ…” “ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵉˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵃˢ ᵃⁿʸ ᵒᶠ ᵘˢ‧ ᴵ’ᵈ ʳᵃᵗʰᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ, ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿⁿᵒᵗ ⁱᵐᵃᵍⁱⁿᵉ ˡⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ᵃⁿʸ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ! ᵂᵉ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ʸᵒᵘ; ᴵ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧” ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵉᵗ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢⁱᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʳⁱᵈᵉ ʰᵒᵐᵉ, ᵉˣᵖˡᵃⁱⁿⁱⁿᵍ ʷʰʸ ʰᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ‧ ᴴᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ʳᵉˡᵃˣᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵈʳᵒʷˢʸ ᵃˢ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵉˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵘˢ ʳⁱᵈᵉ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʷ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧ ᴴᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖʸ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵉⁿᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ⁿᵒʷ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ˢⁱᵈᵉ‧

ᴬˢᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ "ᴵᵗ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃʸ ⁱⁿ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵉ‧ ᴺᵒ ʷᵒⁿᵈᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ᵐⁱˢᵉʳᵃᵇˡᵉ! ᴮᵉᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ᵒʳ ᶜᵃᵗᶜʰ ᵘᵖ ʷⁱᵗʰ‧‧‧" "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᴵ'ᵐ ᵈᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᶠⁱⁿᵉ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ʷⁱᶠᵉ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ᵗᵉˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ!" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˡᵉᵃᵈˢ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ˢᵒᶜⁱᵃˡⁱˢᵉ‧ 'ᵂʰᵒ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉˢᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵃ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ᵒᶠ ᵐⁱⁿᵉ' ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ‧ 'ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵃᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʰᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵘⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵉᵃᵐʷᵒʳᵏ' ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵃˢ ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳⁱᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ᵏⁱⁿᵈⁿᵉˢˢ ᵉʳᵘᵖᵗᵉᵈ‧ ᴴᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵒᵐᵉ‧ "ᴴᵒᵐᵐⁱⁿᵃ—ʷᵃʰ?" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃʷᵒᵏᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ʰᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠʳᵒⁿᵗ ᵈᵒᵒʳ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵒᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷᵃⁿᵗˢ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵇᵒⁿᵈ ˢᵒ ᴵ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ⁿⁱᶜᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉˢᵗ ᴵ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵃ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ˡᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ⁱⁿ‧ "ᴵ ʷᵃˢ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃʳᵏ‧ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ʷᵃⁿᵗˢ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ᵃ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵘᵉ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ʰᵉˡᵖ ˢᶜᵘˡᵖᵗ!" ᔆᵒ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃʳᵗ ˢᵘᵖᵖˡⁱᵉˢ ⁿᵉᵉᵈᵉᵈ‧ "ᴵᵗ ᵗᵃᵏᵉˢ ᵃ ᵈᵃʸ ᵒʳ ˢᵒ ᵗᵒ ᵈʳʸ ᵒⁿᶜᵉ ⁱᵗ ᶠⁱⁿⁱˢʰᵉᵈ⸴ ˢᵒ ʷᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵗᵘʳⁿˢ ᵍᵘᵃʳᵈⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᵗ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ "ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵈᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵃʳᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵃᶜⁱᵃˡ ᵈᵉᵗᵃⁱˡˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵃⁿᵈˡᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵗʳᵘᶜᵗᵘʳᵉ‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ˢᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵃˢᵉ‧ "ᴰᵉᵃˡ!" "ᔆᵒ ʷᵉ ᵉᵃᶜʰ ᵍᵘᵃʳᵈ ⁱᵗ ᵃ ᵈᵒᶻᵉⁿ ʰᵒᵘʳˢ ᵖᵉʳ ᵗᵘʳⁿ ᵃᵗ ᵃ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ‧ ᴵ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵍᵒ ᵗᵉˡˡ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ˢᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵏⁱᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ'ˢ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗᵃʸᵉᵈ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ˢᵉᵉ ⁱᵗ ⁿᵒʷ ᵒʳ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʷᵃⁱᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ⁱᵗ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱⁿⁱˢʰ ᵈʳʸⁱⁿᵍ?" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢʰⁱᶠᵗᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈ ʷᵃʳᵈ ᵖᵒⁿᵈᵉʳᵉᵈ‧ "ᴵ ᵇᵉᵗ ˢᑫᵘⁱˡˡⁱᵃᵐ'ˢ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵍᵒ ᵈᵉˢᵗʳᵒʸ ⁱᵗ‧‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵍᵘᵃʳᵈⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᵗ ᵃˢ ʷᵉ ˢᵖᵉᵃᵏ ˢᵒ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᵗʳᵘˢᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ?" ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷᵉᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃʳᵏ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵖᵃᶜᵉᵈ ˡᵒᵒᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ⁱᵗ‧ "ᴵᵗ'ˢ ᵐᵒˢᵗ ᵉˣᑫᵘⁱˢⁱᵗᵉ ᵃʳᵗ ᵖⁱᵉᶜᵉ ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ˢᵉᵉⁿ!" ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ˢⁱᵍʰˢ‧ "ᴶᵘˢᵗ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵗʳʸ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᴵ'ᵈ ʷᵃˢᵗᵉ ᵐʸ ᵉⁿᵉʳᵍʸ ᵒⁿ ᵈᵉˢᵗʳᵒʸⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᴵ ʰᵉˡᵖ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵘⁱˡᵈ?" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵃᶜᶜᵘˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᶠ ᵃᵗ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ‧ "ᴼʰ ʷᵃⁱᵗ ʷᵉ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᵍᵒ ᵗᵒ ʷᵒʳᵏ ⁿᵒʷ! ᔆᵉᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ˢʰⁱᶠᵗ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃⁿᵈ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃʳᵏ‧ "ᵀʰᵃⁿᵏˢ ᶠᵒʳ ʷᵒʳᵏⁱⁿᵍ ˡᵃᵗᵉ ᵇᵒʸˢ!" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᶜˡᵒˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉˢᵗᵃᵘʳᵃⁿᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧ 'ᴹʸ ᵗᵘʳⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵘᵃʳᵈ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈ ʷᵃʳᵈ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵘᵉ' ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ⸴ ᵉˣᶜⁱᵗᵉᵈˡʸ‧ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ'ˢ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵘᵉ‧ "ᵀⁱᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢʷⁱᵗᶜʰ ˢʰⁱᶠᵗˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵘᵃʳᵈ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃᵗ ˡᵉᵃⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿˢᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵃˢᵉ ᵃˢ ᵃ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ʳᵉˢᵗ ᵃˢ ʰⁱ ˢᵒᶠᵗ ˢⁿᵘᶠᶠˡⁱⁿᵍ ˢⁿᵒʳᵉˢ ʷᵉʳᵉ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ‧ 'ᴺᵒʷ ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʰᵒʷ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ʷʰᵉⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᴵ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʲᵒᵇ' ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ‧ "ᴵ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ‧‧" ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗᵉᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ⸴ ᵇᵉᵍʳᵘᵈᵍⁱⁿᵍˡʸ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ ⁿᵉʳᵛᵒᵘˢˡʸ ᵃˢ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵇᵉⁿᵗ ᵈᵒʷⁿ‧ "ᴴᵉʸ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ‧‧" ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ʳᵘᵇᵇᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ᵒᶠ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵃˢ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ˢⁿᵒʳⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ᵉʸᵉᵇʳᵒʷ ᶠᵘʳʳᵒʷˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ⁿᵒᵗ ʷᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵉᵗ‧ "ᵁᵖ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃᵗᵒᵐ‧‧" ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ "ᴴᵐᵐᵐ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᴳᴱᵀ͏ ᵁᴾ!" ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ʸᵉˡˡᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗˡᵉᵈ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ ᶠᵃˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵃˢⁱᵈᵉ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ˢᵗᵃⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵘᵖ‧ "ᵂʰᵃ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ˢᵘᵖᵖᵒˢᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵍᵘᵃʳᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐʸ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵘᵉ!" "ᴵ'ᵐ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵍᵘᵃʳᵈ ⁱᵗ ⁿᵒʷ ˢᵒ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ⸴ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏ ᵗᵒⁿ ᵈⁱᶻᶻⁱⁿᵉˢˢ ˢᵘᵇˢⁱᵈᵉᵈ‧ "ᔆᵒʳʳʸ‧‧" "ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃⁿʸ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ ˢᵒ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ⁱⁿ ᵒⁿᶜᵉ ᵐʸ ʰᵒᵘʳˢ ᵉⁿᵈ‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ⁱⁿᶠᵒʳᵐˢ‧ "ᴵ'ˡˡ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵒᵒᵏ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʳᵉᵖˡⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧ "ᴵ'ᵈ ᵇᵘⁱˡᵗ ʰᵉˡᵖᵉᵈ ᵃ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵘᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁿᵒᵈᵈᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ʰᵉˡᵖᵉᵈ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ "ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ‧‧" "ᴵ'ᵐ ᵍˡᵃᵈ; ᵍᵉᵗ ᵃ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ'ˢ ʳᵉˢᵗ!" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢⁱᵗᵘᵃᵗᵉᵈ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵃᵖᵖⁱˡʸ ᵖᵃᵗʳᵒˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵘᵉ‧ "ᴵ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵈʳʸ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʸˢ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒᵘᶜʰᵉᵈ ⁱᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵃˢ ᵈʳʸ‧ "ᴬˡˡ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ!" ᴴᵉ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ "ᴺᵒ ᵈᵃᵐᵃᵍᵉ ᵃˢ ᶠᵃʳ ᵃˢ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵗᵉˡˡ‧‧" "ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ'ˢ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵇᵉ ˢᵒ ʰᵃᵖᵖʸ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵗᵉˣᵗᵉᵈ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ‧ "ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ!" ᔆᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵒᵖ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵍˡᵉᵉ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵒᶠ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ˢᵒᵐᵉʰᵒʷ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵈᵒʷⁿ‧ 'ᴴᵉ ⁱˢ ˢᵒ ⁿⁱᶜᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵃˡˡ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ ʰⁱˢ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢ‧ ᴵᶠ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᴵ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʰᵒʷ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉᵉˡˢ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵈᵉᵉᵖ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ⁱⁿˢⁱᵈᵉ' ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵒ ⁱᵐᵖᵒʳᵗᵃⁿᵗ‧ 'ᴵᶠ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᴵ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵒ ʰᵃᵖᵖʸ ᵗᵒ' ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵈᵉᵖʳᵉˢˢⁱⁿᵍˡʸ‧ ᴴᵉ ˢᵃʷ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ʳᵘⁿ ᵗᵒ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵘᵉ ᵃˢ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵇᵒᵘⁿᶜᵉᵈ ˢᵐⁱˡⁱⁿᵍ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ᵃᶜᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ⁱᵐᵖʳᵉˢˢᵉᵈ; ⁱᵗ ˡᵒᵒᵏˢ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵈʳʸ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵒⁿᵍⁱⁿᵍˡʸ ˢᵃʷ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵃˢ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵖᵃᵗˢ‧ "ᴼᶠ ᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘ!" "ᴼʰ; ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏˢ‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵃ ᵇᵉˢᵗ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ᵒᶠ ᵐⁱⁿᵉ⸴ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ! ᶜᵃⁿ ᴵ ᶜᵃˡˡ ʸᵒᵘ ᵐʸ ᵇᵉˢᵗ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ?" "ᴵᶠ ᴵ ˢᵃʸ ʸᵉˢ⸴ ʷⁱˡˡ ʸᵒᵘ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵖʳᵒᵐⁱˢᵉ ᵐᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵃʸ ⁱᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵖᵘᵇˡⁱᶜ?" ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᔆᑫᵘᵉᵃˡⁱⁿᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʲᵒʸ⸴ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵉᵐᵇʳᵃᶜᵉ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵃᵐᵃᶻⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ᵗᵒ ʷᵉˡˡ ᵘᵖ ⁱⁿ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ; ʰᵉ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ˡⁱᵏᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᶜʳʸ‧ 'ᴵ ᵈᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʰᵒʷ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵐᵃᵏᵉˢ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵒ ʰᵃᵖᵖⁱᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ᴵ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ' ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵖᵒⁿᵈᵉʳᵉᵈ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ˡᵉᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵃ ˢᵒᵇ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ ᵃʷᵃʸ ˢᵒ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗⁿ’ᵗ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉ‧ ᶠᵉᵉˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ᵗᵒ ᶠᵃˡˡ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵇʸ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳ ᵃ ᵗʳᵉᵉ‧ "ᵂʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ᵘᵖ ʷⁱᵗʰ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵍᵒ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ ᵒⁿ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵃⁿ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ʰᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗʳᵉᵉ‧ ᴴᵉ ˢᵃʷ ʰⁱᵐ ʰᵘᵍᵍⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵏⁿᵉᵉˢ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ʰᵒˡᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ʷʰⁱᵐᵖᵉʳˢ‧ ᴺᵒᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵒʷ ᵗᵒ ᵃᵖᵖʳᵒᵃᶜʰ ʰⁱᵐ⸴ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵒᵛᵉʳˡʸ ᵃᶠᶠᵉᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿᵃᵗᵉ ⁿᵒʳ ᵃˢᵏ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗᵒᵘᶜʰ ᵉᵛᵉʳ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʷ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵒᵒᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵒⁿᶜᵉʳⁿᵉᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᴵ ˢᵉᵉ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵒ‽" "ᵂᵉˡˡ ᵈᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵃⁿʸ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵈᵒ?" "ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵉᵉᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˢᵒ ᵍˡᵃᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ‧‧‧" "ʸᵉᵃ ʰᵉ'ˢ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵃ ᵇʳᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢⁱᵍʰᵉᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᶜʳʸ‧ "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉˢᵗ ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵃ ᵇᵉˢᵗ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ᵖᵒˡⁱᵗᵉ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵒˡᵉʳᵃᵗᵉ ᵐᵉ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᵃ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰ‧ "ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰᵒʷ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃⁿᵍ ᵒᵘᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘ ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿⁿᵒᵗ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵍᵒ ᵃ ᵈᵃʸ ʷⁱᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ᵃʳᵍᵘⁱⁿᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐʸ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴵ ʰᵃᵈ ᵖʳᵒᵍʳᵃᵐᵐᵉᵈ! ᴵᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵖʳᵉᵗᵉⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵐʸ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵃⁿʸ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵃᵇᵉ ᵗᵒ‧‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ⁿᵒ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃ ᵏⁱˢˢ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵒʳᵉʰᵉᵃᵈ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵗᵃˡᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵃᵐ ᵃᶠʳᵃⁱᵈ ᵒᶠ ⁱʳʳⁱᵗᵃᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ‧ ᴵᵗ'ˢ ʰᵃʳᵈ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴵ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ'ᵈ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᵐᵉᵃⁿ ⁱᵗ?" "ᴼᶠ ᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ‧‧‧"

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."

~ uH oH mY oNeS aNd ZeRoS look Like TEN. TEN. TEN. TEN. TEN. TEN.

ᴳᵉᵗ ᔆˡᵉᵉᵖʸ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ “…ᶜᵃⁿⁿᵒᵗ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ…” ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒʷ ᵗᵉˡˡˢ ʰⁱˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧ ᔆᵒ ˢʰᵉ ᵐᵃˢˢᵃᵍᵉˢ ʰⁱᵐ, ʰᵘᵐᵐⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ˢᵒᶠᵗ ᵗᵘⁿᵉ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵗᵉˡˡ ⁱᵗ ʰᵉˡᵖᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ˢⁱⁿᵍⁱⁿᵍ ʷʰᵉⁿᶜᵉ ʰᵉ ˢⁿᵒʳᵉᵈ‧ “ᴳᵒᵒᵈ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧‧” 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: 𝟓𝟎 𝐬𝐞𝐜.

ᵀʰᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿˢ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉʳ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᵇᵉᵈ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉᵈ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵃˢᵗ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ‧ "ᔆᵒʳʳʸ ⁱᶠ ᴵ ˢⁿᵃᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵉᵃʳˡⁱᵉʳ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴵ ʸᵉˡˡᵉᵈ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵉˡˡˢ ʰᵉʳ‧ ᴵᵗ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵘⁿʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵗᵒ ʳᵃⁱˢᵉ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵒᵛᵉʳˡʸ ᵒᵘᵗʷᵃʳᵈˡʸ ᵃᶠᶠᵉᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿᵃᵗᵉ ᵗᵒ‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿ ᵉᵐᵒᵗⁱᵒⁿᵃˡ ᵒʳ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ˢᵉᵉᵐᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵈᵃⁿᵍᵉʳ⸴ ʰᵉ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ‧ ᴱᵃʳˡⁱᵉʳ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ⸴ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ⁿᵉʷ ⁱⁿᵛᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᶠᵃⁱˡᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ‧ "ᴵ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵃⁿᵈ ᶠʳᵘˢᵗʳᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ʲᵘˢᵗ ⁿᵉᵉᵈᵉᵈ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵒʷⁿ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ ᶠᵒʳ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗʰᵉ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ⸴ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠᵃᵘˡᵗ‧ ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵉⁿᵉʳᵍʸ ᵗᵒ ᵏᵉᵉᵖ‧‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᴵ ᵃᵐ ˢᵘʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈⁱᵈ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵇᵉˢᵗ‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ᵈᵒⁿᵉ ⁿᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ʷʳᵒⁿᵍ; ᴵ ˡ⁻ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧" "ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ⸴ ᵐʸ ᵈᵉᵃʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ‧ ᴺᵒʷ ʷᵉ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᵒᵘᵍʰᵗᵗᵃ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵃ ᵈᵃʸ‧‧‧ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ?" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʰᵉᵃʳˢ ʰⁱᵐ ˢⁿᵒʳⁱⁿᵍ ⁿᵒʷ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᵃᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ᵖᵃʳᵗ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁿᵒʳᵐᵃˡˡʸ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ʷʰᵒ'ˢ ᵐᵒˢᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵏᵉ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ⁿᵒʷ⸴ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᶠᵃˡˡᵉⁿ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ‧ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᵒᶠ ⁱᵗ⸴ ˢʰᵉ ˡᵃˢᵗ ˢᵃʷ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᑫᵘⁱᵗᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃᵍᵒ ʷʰᵉⁿ ˢᵗᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ˡᵃᵗᵉ ᵐᵒᵛⁱᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ; ᵃ ᵇᵉⁿᵈʸ ˢᵗʳᵃʷ ⁱⁿ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ᵒᶠ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉⁿ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵍˡᵃᵈ ⁿᵒʷ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢⁿᵒʳᵉᵈ‧ "ᔆʷᵉᵉᵗ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐˢ‧‧" ᔆʰᵉ ʷʰⁱˢᵖᵉʳˢ⸴ ʰᵒᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵐᵃⁱⁿ ⁱⁿ ᵖᵉᵃᶜᵉᶠᵘˡⁿᵉˢˢ‧ ╰ ✧ ･ﾟ∙ ∗ — ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ ⟨ 2 4 8

ᴳᵉᵗ ᵁᵖ 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: 𝟏 𝐦𝐢𝐧. ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵘᵖ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʰᵉʳ ˢᵉᵃᵗ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ⁿᵒʷ ᶠᵃˡˡᵉⁿ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ⁱⁿ ᶜʰᵃⁱʳ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵍᵉⁿᵗˡʸ ˢʰᵒᵒᵏ ʰⁱˢ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈᵉʳ ˢⁱᵍʰᵗˡʸ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵇᵘᵈᵍᵉ⸴ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ᵃʲᵃʳ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉᵈ⸴ ˢᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᶜᵒⁿᵗⁱⁿᵘᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ ᴵ'ˡˡ ˡᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ʳᵉˢᵗ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ‧ ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵒʳ ᵐᵘˢᵗ ᴵ ᶜᵃʳʳʸ ʸᵒᵘ?" ᴺᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ‧ "ᴳᵘᵉˢˢ ᴵ'ᵐ ᶜᵃʳʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗʰᵉⁿ‧ ᴵ'ᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵈⁱˢᵗᵘʳᵇ ʸᵒᵘ ⁱᶠ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ʰᵃʳᵈᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ʳᵒᵘˢᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵉᵃˢⁱˡʸ ᵖᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵐʸˢᵉˡᶠ‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁿᵒʷ ᵖᵘᵗˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁱⁿ ᵇᵉᵈ⸴ ʷⁱᵖⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵈʳᵒᵒˡ ᵒᶠᶠ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵒᵏᵉ ⁿᵃᵗᵘʳᵃˡˡʸ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ᵃˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵘᵖ‧ "ᵂʰᵃᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ⁱˢ ⁱᵗ?" "ᵀⁱᵐᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᵘˢ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵘᵖ!" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃⁿˢʷᵉʳᵉᵈ‧

ᔆⁱᵈᵉ ᵇʸ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᴼⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᶠ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʰʳᵉʷ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳᵃᵖᵖˡⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵒᵒᵏ ᵃˢ ⁱᵗ ᵃᵗᵗᵃᶜʰᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᶠ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ‧ ᔆᵉᶜᵘʳⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᵗ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍᵒᵗ ᶻⁱᵖ ˡⁱⁿᵉ ᵐᵉᶜʰᵃⁿⁱˢᵐ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʲᵘᵐᵖᵉᵈ ˢˡⁱᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ᵈᵒʷⁿ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵃʷ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃᵇᵒᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵃᵈ ʷʰᵉⁿ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵖᵉ ˢᵗʳⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ ˢᵉᵛᵉʳᵉᵈ ⁱᵗ‧ ᶠᵃˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ʰᵉᵃᵈᶠⁱʳˢᵗ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰⁱᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵃʳᵈ ᶜᵉᵐᵉⁿᵗ ᵒⁿᶜᵉ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵈᵒʷⁿ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵒⁿ ᵇˡᵘʳʳᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵃᵈᵉᵈ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ⁿᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍⁿᵉˢˢ⸴ ᵘⁿᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ ⁱᵗ ᵃˡˡ ᵘⁿᶠᵒˡᵈ ʰᵉˡᵖˡᵉˢˢˡʸ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᶠʳᵒᶻᵉ ᵃˢ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᶠᵒʳᵐ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵖᵖᵃʳᵃᵗᵘˢ ʰⁱᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵃʷᵃʸ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ʳᵉˢᵗᵃᵘʳᵃⁿᵗ ˡᵉᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᴴⁱˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵃᵗᵒˢᵉ ᵇᵒᵈʸ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉᵃʳᵗ ᵇᵉᵃᵗ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ˢᵘʳᵉ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ˢʰᵒʷ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ⁱⁿᵈⁱᶜᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵒᶠ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳʷⁱˢᵉ⸴ ⁿᵒʳ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ʰᵉ ᵃᶜᵏⁿᵒʷˡᵉᵈᵍᵉ ˢᵘʳʳᵒᵘⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍˢ ᵃˢ ᵈᵉᵃᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳˡᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᶜᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵈᵉᵃᵈ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵃᶜᵗ ᵒʳ ᵈᵒ ᵃⁿʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˢᑫᵘᵉᵉᶻᵉ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ‧ "ᵂᵉ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵗʳᵉᵉᵗ ᵃᵗ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷᵉʳᵉ ʰᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ⸴ ˢᵒ ʰᵉ ˢᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘᶜʰ ᵃˢ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵐᵒᵉᵇᵃ ᵖᵘᵖᵖʸ ᵗʳᵒᵗˢ ᵒᵛᵉʳ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ʷʰⁱᵐᵖᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵏⁱˢˢᵉˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ʳᵉˢᵖᵒⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵒᵗˢ ˡⁱᶜᵏⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢˡⁱᵍʰᵗᵉˢᵗ! "ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ᵇʳᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʰᵒᵐᵉ‧‧" ᶜʳⁱᵉᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵉᵃʳˡⁱᵉʳ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍⁱʳˡˢ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ᵗᵉˣᵗᵉᵈ 'ˢᵒʳʳʸ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ⁱˢ ⁱⁿ ˢᵉⁿˢᵉˡᵉˢˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵃ' ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵉˣᵗᵉᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵈᵉˢᵖᵉʳᵃᵗᵉ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵃᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᶠˡⁱⁿᶜʰ ᵒʳ ˢʰᵒʷ ᵐᵒᵛᵉᵐᵉⁿᵗ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿᵉʳ‧ "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵇᵃᵈ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ʷᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ ˢᵗʳᵉᵃᵐ ᵈᵒʷⁿ‧ "ᴵ ʷᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ᵘᵖ ᵒⁿ⸴ ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉʷʰᵉʳᵉ ⁱⁿ‧‧" ᔆᵒᵇᵇⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖᵃᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵃʳᵐ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ʰⁱˢ ˢⁱᵈᵉ‧ ᴹᵉᵃⁿʷʰⁱˡᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵃⁿᵈʸ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᶜʰᵃᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ‧ "ᴺᵒᵗⁱᶠⁱᶜᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᴵ'ᵈ ˢⁱˡᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᵐʸ ᵖʰᵒⁿᵉ! ᴼʰ ʰᵒʷ ᵈᵃʳᵉ ʰᵉ‧‧‧" ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢᵗᵒᵖˢ ᵃˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ᵉˣᵖʳᵉˢˢⁱᵒⁿ ᶜʰᵃⁿᵍᵉᵈ‧ "ᔆᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵐᵘˢᵗ ᵇᵉ ʷʳᵒⁿᵍ‧‧‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ʰᵘʳᵗ‽ ᔆᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵃᵈ ᵐᵘˢᵗ'ᵛᵉ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ‧" ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷᵉᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧ "ᵂʰᵉʳᵉ'ˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ?" ᵀʰᵉʸ ˢᵃʷ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵇᵃʳᵏᵉᵈ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉᵐ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶻⁱᵖ ˡⁱⁿᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵒʷ ʰᵉ ᵉⁿᵈᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵈᵉᵉᵖˡʸ ᵘⁿᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵉᵗᵉˡʸ ˡⁱᵐᵖ‧ "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᶜᵃⁿ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᵒʳ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ?" ᔆʰᵉ ᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ⸴ ᵉˣᵃᵐⁱⁿⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴺᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ʷᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵈᵒ ᵗᵒⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵇᵉ ᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ʳᵒᵘˢᵉ ᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢⁿᵉˢˢ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃᵗ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳⁿᵒᵒⁿ‧‧" ᔆᵃⁱᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ˢᵃʷ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ˢᵃᵈ ʷᵃᵍ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᵗᵃⁱˡ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵖᵘˡˡᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵃ ᶜʰᵃⁱʳ ᵇʸ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃᵈʲᵃᶜᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘᶜʰ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵃᵗ‧ ᴴᵉ ʰᵉˡᵈ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ˡᵃᵖ‧ "ᴴᵉˡˡᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ; ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ⁿᵒ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵐᵉ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ ˡⁱᵏᵉˡʸ ᵗᵒ ⁱᵐᵖʳᵒᵛᵉ! ᵂᵉ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧" ᵀʰᵉ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵉⁿˢᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵍᵃⁱⁿ ʷᵃˢ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵘᶠᶠˡᵉᵈ ˢᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵒᶠ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ʷᵃʸ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ "ᴵ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃᵈᵒᵖᵗᵉᵈ ˢᵖᵒᵗ‧‧" ᔆᵃⁱᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵇʸ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ ʸᵉᵗ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈⁿ'ᵗ ˢᵘᵐᵐᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉⁿᵉʳᵍʸ ᵗᵒ ʳᵒᵘˢᵉ ⁿᵒʳ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ʸᵉᵗ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵃˢⁿ'ᵗ ᵃˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵃᵗᵒˢᵉ ᵃˢ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵍⁿⁱˢᵉᵈ ˢᵖᵒᵗ'ˢ ᵇʸ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᵉᵃᵍᵉʳ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵉʸᵉˡⁱᵈ ᵇᵃʳᵉˡʸ ᵗʷⁱᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉᵈ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵃˢᵖᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵉˣᶜⁱᵗᵉᵐᵉⁿᵗ ᵘᵖᵒⁿ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵐᵒᵛᵉᵐᵉⁿᵗ‧ "ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ᵐⁱˢˢᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʷʰᵒᵐ ʷᵉ ᵃˡˡ ᵏⁿᵒʷ‧‧‧" ᶜᵒᵃˣᵉᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉᵍⁱⁿ ʷᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ‧ ᴴᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ⁿᵘᵈᵍᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵘⁿᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵃᶜᵗ ᵈⁱʳᵉᶜᵗˡʸ‧ ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢⁱᵍʰᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢˡᵒʷˡʸ ᵒᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᵗᵒ‧ ⱽⁱˢⁱᵒⁿ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵒ ᵇˡᵘʳʳʸ ⁿᵒʷ ʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵇᵃʳᵉˡʸ ˡⁱᶠᵗ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ‧ "ᴹᵐ‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧" "ᵁᵒʸ⸴ ʷʰᵃ?" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵇˡⁱⁿᵏᵉᵈ‧ "ᵂʰᵉʳᵉ‧‧" ᶠᵉᵉˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵍʳᵒᵍᵍʸ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵃˡˡ ᶠⁱⁿᵃˡˡʸ ʳᵉᵍⁱˢᵗᵉʳᵉᵈ‧ "ᴼᵘ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵘˡˡ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉ ˢʰᵃʳᵖᵉʳ‧ "ᵂʰᵉʳᵉ⸴ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ; ᵍᵃʰ⸴ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵈ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ "ᵂʰᵃ⸴ ʷʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ‽" ᴴᵉ'ᵈ ᶠⁱⁿᵃˡˡʸ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ᶠᵘˡˡ ˢᵉⁿᵗᵉⁿᶜᵉ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᶻⁱᵖ ˡⁱⁿᵉ ᵇᵘᵗ ᶠᵉˡˡ; ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ˢᵘʳᵉ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᶜᵃʳᵉ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᵃˡˢᵒ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘ‧" ᴬⁿˢʷᵉʳᵉᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧ "ᴵᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ ʸᵉˢᵗᵉʳᵈᵃʸ⸴ ˢᵒ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵗʳᵒᵏᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵃʳᵐ‧ ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ ᵗᵒ ᵈⁱᶻᶻʸ ᵗᵒ ˢⁱᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵉᵗ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵉˡᵖ ʰⁱᵐ ᵘᵖʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ˢᵒ ᵃˢ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵃ ᵈʳⁱⁿᵏ ᵒᶠ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ‧ "ᵀʰᵃⁿᵏˢ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵐᵃⁿᵃᵍᵉᵈ‧ "ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵖᵃᶜᵉ?" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ‧ "ᔆᵗᵃʸ‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ˡᵉᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ‧‧‧" "ᴵ'ᵐ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʳᵉˢᵗ⸴ ʰᵒˡᵈ ᵐʸ ʰᵃⁿᵈ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ⸴ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ᵇʸ ˢⁱᵈᵉ‧

ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉʳ ᵃᵛᵉʳᵃᵍᵉ ᵈᵃʸ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᴵ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉⁿ ᵉᵃᶜʰ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧ ᴹʸ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵘᵖ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵐᵉ⸴ ᵐᵒˢᵗ ˡⁱᵏᵉˡʸ ʷᵒʳᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵒʳ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ‧ ᴴⁱˢ ᵐᵃⁱⁿ ᵍᵒᵃˡ ⁱˢ ᵗᵒ ʳᵘⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵉⁿᵉᵐʸ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵇᵘˢⁱⁿᵉˢˢ‧ ᴵ ᶠⁱˣ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵏᶠᵃˢᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵉⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵃⁿʸ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵃⁱⁿᵗˢ ᵗᵒ‧ ᴵ ʳᵉᵐⁱⁿᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗʳᵃˢʰ‧ ᴵ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ʰⁱˢ ᵖˡᵃⁿˢ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵍᵉᵗˢ ᵐᵃᵈ ᵉᵃˢⁱˡʸ‧ ᴴᵉ ʷᵃⁿᵗˢ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵇⁱᵍ ᵒʳ ᵃᵗ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵐᵃˡˡ‧ ᔆᵒ ᴵ ᵗʳʸ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒᶠᶠ ⁱᶠ ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ‧ ᔆᵒᵐᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ʷᵉ ᵇⁱᶜᵏᵉʳ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᶜᵃˡᵐ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵒʳ ᴵ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵉⁿᵈ ᵘᵖ ᶠᵒʳᶜⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒᵘᵗᵈᵒᵒʳˢ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃᵗ ˡᵘⁿᶜʰ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵍᵒᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵘⁿᶜʰ ʳᵘˢʰ ᵃᵗ ʳⁱᵛᵃˡ ʳᵉˢᵗᵃᵘʳᵃⁿᵗ ᴷʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᴷʳᵃᵇ‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ᶠᵃⁱˡˢ ᵃᵗ ˢᵗᵉᵃˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ ʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵉˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ‧ "ᵀᵒˡᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵒ" ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵍʳᵉᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵃʳᶜᵃˢᵗⁱᶜᵃˡˡʸ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵈᵒ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵖᵘˢʰ ⁱᵗ ʷʰᵉⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵉˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ᵐⁱˢᵉʳᵃᵇˡᵉ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵉ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᶜʳᵘˢʰᵉᵈ‧ ᴵ ᵗʳʸ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉˡᵖ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗᵉⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵒᵈ‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿ ⁱᵗ ᵍᵉᵗˢ ᵗᵒ ᵉᵛᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ ʷᵉ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵒᵘʳ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ‧ ᔆᵒᵐᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ⁱᶠ ʰᵉ ʷᵃⁿᵗˢ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃʸ ʷᵒʳᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᴵ ᵐᵃʸ ᵍᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᵐʸ ᵍᵃˡ ᵖᵃˡˢ‧ ᴼᵗʰᵉʳʷⁱˢᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵉᵃᵗˢ ᵈⁱⁿⁿᵉʳ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒᵍᵉᵗʰᵉʳ‧ ᴴᵉ ˡᵒᵛᵉˢ ᵐᵒᵛⁱᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ ᵍᵉᵗˢ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ᵒⁿᵉ‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᵇᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵉᵗˢ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʰⁱᵐ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵗᵘᶜᵏⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ⁱⁿ‧ ᴵᶠ ᴵ'ᵐ ˡᵘᶜᵏʸ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ᵐᵉ ᵃ ʰᵘᵍ ᵒʳ ᵏⁱˢˢ ⁱᶠ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒᵒᵈ‧ ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʰᵉ ᵈᵉᵉᵖ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ˡᵒᵛᵉˢ ᵐᵉ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢʰᵒʷ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵃᶠᶠᵉᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ‧ ᴰᵉᵖᵉⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ʰᵒʷ ᵉˣʰᵃᵘˢᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃʸ ʷᵃˢ⸴ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᶜᵃʳʳʸ ʰⁱᵐ ˡⁱᶠᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ ᴵ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵗʳʸ ᵗᵒ ᵏᵉᵉᵖ ᑫᵘⁱᵉᵗ ʷʰᵉⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ʰᵉ'ˢ ʷᵃⁿᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ˢᵒ ᵃˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ʳⁱˡᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵘᵖ‧ ᴬᵗ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᵇᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˢᵒᶠᵗˡʸ ˢⁿᵒʳᵉ ʷʰᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᴵ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʰⁱᵐ ʰᵒʷ ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴬˢ ᶠᵒʳ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ʰᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵃᵈ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗᵐᵃʳᵉˢ⸴ ᴵ ᵗʳʸ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵏᵉⁿ ᵘᵖ ᵍᵉⁿᵗˡʸ ʷⁱᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗˡᵉ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴵ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᵈᵒ ᵐʸ ᵇᵉˢᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵒᵒᵗʰᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᶜᵃˡᵐˡʸ ⁱⁿ ʰᵒᵖᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉˡᵃˣ ʰⁱᵐ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗᵒ ᶠᵃˡˡ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉ ʳᵘᵈᵉ ᵃᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʰᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉ ᵃ ˢᵒᶠᵗⁱᵉ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ʷᵃʸ; ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉⁿᵈ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃʸ ʷᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵃˡˡ ᵃʷᵃʳᵉ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ʷᵉ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵉᵃᶜʰ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ‧

Fandom: SpongeBob SquarePants (Cartoon) Relationship: Karen/Sheldon J. Plankton Characters: Karen (SpongeBob)Sheldon J. Plankton Language: English https://archiveofourown.org/works/53451349 My Tiny Genius RibbonDee Summary: After a long day of once again trying and failing to steal the Krabby Patty Secret Formula, Plankton is feeling down in the dumps. It's up to Karen to cheer him up.

ᔆᵃᶜʳⁱᶠⁱᶜⁱⁿᵍ ⤥ 𝐂𝐖:𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐯𝐢𝟎𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ pt. 1 ⤥ 𝐂𝐖:𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐯𝐢𝟎𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵃˢ ʳᵘⁿⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵘᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵉᶜʳᵉᵗ ᵇᵒᵗᵗˡᵉ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵇᵘᵇᵇˡᵉ ᵇᵃˢˢ ʷᵃˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵃⁱⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ᵖᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵖⁱᶜᵏˡᵉˢ! ᵂʰʸ ˢᵒ ᵐᵃⁿʸ ᵖⁱᶜᵏˡᵉˢ? ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ᵖⁱᶜᵏˡᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳˢᵉˡᶠ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵃˢ ᵃ ᵗᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵃʷᵃʸ⸴ ᵇᵃᶜᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵃʷᵃʸ ᵃˢ ᵇᵘᵇᵇˡᵉ ᵇᵃˢˢ ᵗʰʳᵉᵃᵗᵉⁿᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵇᵉ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ‧ ᴱᵛᵉⁿ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ‧ ᴾⁱᶜᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵃᵖᵏⁱⁿ ᵈⁱˢᵖᵉⁿˢᵉʳ⸴ ᵇᵘᵇᵇˡᵉ ᵇᵃˢˢ ʷᵃˢ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰᵘʳᵗ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵛᵉ‧ "ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᶜᵃᵗᶜʰ!" ᴴᵉ ʸᵉˡˡᵉᵈ⸴ ᵗʰʳᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵗᵗˡᵉ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵉᵗʷᵉᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ'ˡˡ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵉᵃˡ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐᵉ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ!" ᴬⁿᵍʳⁱˡʸ⸴ ᵇᵘᵇᵇˡᵉ ᵇᵃˢˢ ᵘˢᵉᵈ ᵃˡˡ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵗʳᵉⁿᵍᵗʰ ᵗᵒ ᶜʰᵘⁿᵏ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵃᵖᵏⁱⁿ ᵈⁱˢᵖᵉⁿˢᵉʳ‧ ᔆᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ʰᵘʳˡ ⁱᵗ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗᵒᵒᵈ ⁱⁿ ᶠʳᵒⁿᵗ ᵒᶠ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵃᵖᵏⁱⁿ ᵈⁱˢᵖᵉⁿˢᵉʳ ʰⁱᵗ ʰⁱᵐ⸴ ˢᵗʳⁱᵏⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ‧ ᴴᵃʳᵈ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʸᵉˡᵖᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ⁱᵗ ᵖᵒᵘⁿᵈᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ⸴ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ˡⁱᵐᵖ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵘⁿᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢ‧ ᴱᵛᵉⁿ ᵇᵘᵇᵇˡᵉ ᵇᵃˢˢ ˢᵗᵒᵒᵈ ˢⁱˡᵉⁿᵗˡʸ ⁱⁿ ˢʰᵒᶜᵏ⸴ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵉᵗᵉˡʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵘᵗᵗᵉʳˡʸ ᵏⁿᵒᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵃⁿ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶜʳⁱᵉᵈ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵘˢʰᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵘˢᵗᵒᵐᵉʳˢ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ 'ᶜˡᵒˢᵉᵈ' ˢⁱᵍⁿ‧ ᴱᵛᵉⁿ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᶜᵒⁿᶜᵉʳⁿᵉᵈ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵍᵒ ᵖᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵗᵗˡᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵐᵉ ˢᵃᶠᵉ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵈᵃᵐᵖ ᶜˡᵒᵗʰ ʳᵃᵍ ʷⁱᵖᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵖᵘᵗ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᶠˡⁱⁿᶜʰ ᵒʳ ᵐᵒᵛᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢˡⁱᵍʰᵗᵉˢᵗ‧ "ᴴᵉ ˡᵒᵒᵏˢ ˡⁱᶠᵉˡᵉˢˢ⸴ ˢᵖʳᵃʷˡᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉᵐᵖˡᵒʸᵉᵉˢ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵉⁿˢᵉˢ ᵈⁱᵈ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ʳᵉᵗᵘʳⁿ⸴ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉᵇʳᵒʷ ᶠᵘʳʳᵒʷᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ᵇᵉᵍⁱⁿⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ‧ "ᴴⁱ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᵃ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵃˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᶠˡᵘᵗᵗᵉʳˢ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ‧ "ᴬᵃᵃ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵐᵃⁿᵃᵍᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵘᵗᵗᵉʳ‧ ᴴᵉ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵒᵛᵉ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ ˢʷⁱʳˡᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ˢᵗʳᵘᵍᵍˡᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵒᵐᵖʳᵉʰᵉⁿᵈ‧ "ᵁⁿ‧‧‧" "ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ˢⁱᵗ ᵘᵖ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ?" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵒᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉˡᵖᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵈʳⁱⁿᵏ ⁱᵗ‧ "ᴬʰᵘʰ⸴ ᵒʷ‧ ᵂʰᵃ‧‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ ˢˡᵒʷ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ˢᵃᶠᵉ‧ ʸᵒᵘ'ˡˡ ᵇᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᶠⁱⁿᵉ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ?" "ʸᵉˢ⸴ ᴵ'ᵐ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘ‧ ᴵ ᵍᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘ‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵘᵐᵐᵒⁿ ˢᵗʳᵉⁿᵍᵗʰ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵗᵃⁿᵈ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ⁿᵒᵗ‧ "ᴺᵒᵗ ˢᵒ ᶠᵃˢᵗ!" ᔆᵃⁱᵈ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ‧ ᴴᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱᵐᵖᵃᶜᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ʰⁱᵗ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ⁱⁿᵗᵉⁿˢᵉ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃᵘᵍʰᵗ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴰᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵉˡᵖᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵉᵗᵗˡᵉ‧ "ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᶜᵃⁿ ᴵ ᵍᵒ ʰᵒᵐᵉ ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵒᵘʳ ᶜˡᵒˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ?" "ʸᵉˢ ᴹʳ‧ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ‧" ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵇᵉⁿᵗ ᵈᵒʷⁿ‧ "ᴶᵘˢᵗ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ˢᵘʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵍᵉᵗ ʷᵉˡˡ ʳᵉˢᵗᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧" ᴴᵉ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ˡᵉᶠᵗ‧ "ᶜᵃⁿ ᴵ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ᵗᵃˡᵏ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃ ᵐᵒᵐᵉⁿᵗ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵉ?" "ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵇᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵐᵉ ᵒᶠᶠⁱᶜᵉ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ˢᵖᵃᶜᵉ‧ "ᴵ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵇᵘᵇᵇˡᵉ ᵇᵃˢˢ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵗᵗˡᵉ ᴵ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʰᵘʳᵗ ʸᵒᵘ⸴ ᴵ ˢᵃʷ ʰⁱᵐ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵃᵖᵏⁱⁿ ᵈⁱˢᵖᵉⁿˢᵉʳ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᵉⁿᵈᵃⁿᵍᵉʳᵉᵈ ʸᵒᵘʳˢᵉˡᶠ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ᵘᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵗᵗˡᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵐᵉ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰʸ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ˢᵃᵈ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʷ ʰⁱᵐ ᶜʳʸⁱⁿᵍ‧ "ᵂᵉ'ᵛᵉ ˢᵖᵉⁿᵗ ʰᵃˡᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵈᵃʸ ᶠᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳˢᵗ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᶜᵒˡᵈ ᵃˢ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒᵗ ʰⁱᵗ‧ ᔆᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵉʸᵉ ʳᵒˡˡ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵘᵍᵍᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴰᵒⁿ'ᵗ ˢᑫᵘᵉᵉᶻᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗⁱᵍʰᵗˡʸ ʰᵃʳᵈ!" "ᔆᵒʳʳʸ‧‧‧" "ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ʰᵒˡᵈ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᶠᶠⁱᶜᵉ‧ "ᴳᵒᵗᵗᵃ ˡᵒᶜᵏ ᵘᵖ⸴ ᵇᵒʸ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵒᵐᵉ?" "ʸᵉˢ⸴ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ ˢᵗᵃʸ‧‧‧" "ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʷ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᵇʳⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ⁱⁿ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵇʳᵘⁱˢᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵉᵃᵈ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵐᵒᵉᵇᵃ ᵖᵘᵖᵖʸ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍʳᵉᵉᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿᵉʳ‧ "ᴼʰ‧‧‧" "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᴵ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ᵐʸ ˢⁱᵈᵉ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵉˡᵖᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵒᶠᵃ‧ "ᴬ ᶜᵘˢᵗᵒᵐᵉʳ ʷᵃˢ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃʳᵐ ᵐᵉ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱⁿʲᵘʳʸ‧‧‧" "ᴵ‧‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ˡᵉᵗ ᵐᵉ ᶠⁱⁿⁱˢʰ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ‧ ᔆᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵘˢᵗᵒᵐᵉʳ ᵗʰʳᵉʷ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈˢ ᵒⁿ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰᵉʳ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵐᵉ ⁿᵃᵖᵏⁱⁿ ᵈⁱˢᵖᵉⁿˢᵉʳ⸴ ˢᵗᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ ʳᵉᵈ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ʰᵉ ᵇˡᵉᵉᵈ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‽" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶜᵃᵘᵍʰᵗ ʰᵉʳ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰ‧ to be cont. Pt. 2

ᔆⁱᵈᵉ ᵇʸ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᴼⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᶠ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʰʳᵉʷ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳᵃᵖᵖˡⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵒᵒᵏ ᵃˢ ⁱᵗ ᵃᵗᵗᵃᶜʰᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᶠ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ‧ ᔆᵉᶜᵘʳⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᵗ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍᵒᵗ ᶻⁱᵖˡⁱⁿᵉ ᵐᵉᶜʰᵃⁿⁱˢᵐ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʲᵘᵐᵖᵉᵈ ˢˡⁱᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ᵈᵒʷⁿ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵃʷ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃᵇᵒᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵃᵈ ʷʰᵉⁿ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵖᵉ ˢᵗʳⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ ˢᵉᵛᵉʳᵉᵈ ⁱᵗ‧ ᶠᵃˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ʰᵉᵃᵈᶠⁱʳˢᵗ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰⁱᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵃʳᵈ ᶜᵉᵐᵉⁿᵗ ᵒⁿᶜᵉ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵈᵒʷⁿ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʷ ᵃⁿᵈ ʳᵃⁿ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʰⁱᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ⸴ ˢᵗᵃⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᵘᵖ‧ ᴴᵒʷᵉᵛᵉʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵉʸᵉ ʳᵒˡˡᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵘᵗᵗᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵃ ⁿᵒⁱˢᵉ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡˡ⸴ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃᵗᶜʰⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᶠᵃⁱⁿᵗ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵃʷᵃʸ ˡᵉᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉᵐ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵃˢ ᵘⁿᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵍᵃⁱⁿ ᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢⁿᵉˢˢ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᴸⁱˢᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ ⁱⁿ ᵈᵉˢᵖᵉʳᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷᵉʳᵉ ʰᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᵍⁱʳˡˢ ᵗʳⁱᵖ⸴ ˢᵒ ʰᵉ ˢᵉᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵒᵈʸ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘᶜʰ ᵃˢ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵐᵒᵉᵇᵃ ᵖᵘᵖᵖʸ ᵗʳᵒᵗˢ ᵒᵛᵉʳ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ʷʰⁱᵐᵖᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵏⁱˢˢᵉˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ʳᵉˢᵖᵒⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵒᵗˢ ˡⁱᶜᵏⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢˡⁱᵍʰᵗᵉˢᵗ! "ᴵ ᵇʳᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʰᵒᵐᵉ‧‧" ᶜʳⁱᵉᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ ᵀʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ⸴ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ ˢᵗʳᵉᵃᵐ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᶠᵃᶜᵉ‧ "ᴾˡᵉᵃˢᵉ ᵒʰ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧" ᔆᵒᵇᵇⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖᵃᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵃʳᵐ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ʰⁱˢ ˢⁱᵈᵉ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵖᵘˡˡᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵃ ᶜʰᵃⁱʳ ᵇʸ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃᵈʲᵃᶜᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘᶜʰ‧ ᴴᵉ ʰᵉˡᵈ ˢᵖᵒᵗ‧ "ᴵ'ˡˡ ˢᵖᵉⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ˢᵒ ʷᵉ'ˡˡ ᵇᵉ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ᵇʸ ˢⁱᵈᵉ‧‧" ᵀʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃʷᵒᵏᵉ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ "ᴳᵒᵒᵈ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵈᵉᵃʳ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ! ᴵ ʰᵒᵖᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵉᵗ ᶠᵉᵉˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿʸ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ‧ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵐⁱˢˢᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵘˢ!" ᴷⁱˢˢⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᶠᵒʳᵉʰᵉᵃᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃᵗ ᵇʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ "ᔆʰᵒʷ ᵐᵉ ᵃ ˢⁱᵍⁿ‧‧‧" ᶜʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ⸴ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵃᵈ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ ʷᵃⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ‧ "ᵂʰᵃᵗ ᵇᵒᵒᵏˢ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ᵃ ᵇᵒᵒᵏ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵃᵇˡᵉ‧ "ᴬ ᵇᵒᵒᵏ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ⁿᵘᶜˡᵉᵃʳ ᵖᵒʷᵉʳ‧‧" ᶜʰᵘᶜᵏˡᵉᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ˢⁱᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ "ᴵ'ˡˡ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵍⁱⁿⁿⁱⁿᵍ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵒᵗ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ʰⁱˢ ᵖʰᵒⁿᵉ‧ 'ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ? ᴵ ᵃᵐ ᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʰᵒᵘˢᵉ‧‧' ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ᵃⁿˢʷᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵖʰᵒⁿᵉ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ!" ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ʰᵃⁿᵍⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʰᵒⁿᵉ⸴ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵇᵒᵒᵏ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵃˡᶠ ᵒᶠ ⁱᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵖᵃʳᵗⁱᶜᵘˡᵃʳˡʸ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ᵏᵉᵖᵗ ᵒⁿ ʳᵉᵃᵈⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ‧‧ ᴾᵉᵗˢ ᵃʳᵉ ˢᵐᵃʳᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶜᵃⁿ ˢᵉⁿˢᵉ⸴ ˢᵒ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵃ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ⁱᵐᵐᵉᵈⁱᵃᵗᵉˡʸ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ⁿᵘᵈᵍᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵈᵉᵗᵉᶜᵗᵉᵈ ˢˡᵒʷˡʸ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢᵘʳᵉˡʸ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵛᵉʳʸ‧ "ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ˡᵒᵛᵉˢ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵒ ᵐᵘᶜʰ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵒ ᵈᵒ ᴵ‧ ᵂᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ʷᵉˡˡ‧ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ˢᵒ ᵃᵐᵃᶻⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᴺᵒ ᵐᵃᵗᵗᵉʳ ʷʰᵃᵗ⸴ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵃ ᵖʳᵒᵐⁱˢᵉ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡⁱᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵏᵉⁿ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᵇᵃʳᵏᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʷ ʰⁱᵐ ᶠⁱⁿᵃˡˡʸ ˢʰᵒʷ ˢˡⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵐᵒᵛᵉᵐᵉⁿᵗ ᵃˢ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᵇᵃʳᵏᵉᵈ‧ "ᴸᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧" ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒ ᵖʳᵒᵘᵈ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠⁱⁿᵃˡˡʸ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵏᵉⁿ ᵘᵖ⸴ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᶠˡᵘᵗᵗᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ‧ "ᵂʰᵃᵗ ᵃʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ⁻ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ʷᵉ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ʰᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ʰᵘʳᵗ‧ "ʸᵃᵒ⸴ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ; ʷʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ‽" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᔆᵃⁱᵈ⸴ ᵈᵃᶻᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ʷᵉᵃᵏ‧ ᴶᵘˢᵗ ᵗʰᵉⁿ⸴ ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ⁱⁿ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵇᵒᵃʳᵈ ᵍᵃᵐᵉ‧ "ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ‧‧" "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᴵ ᵇʳᵘⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵃᵐᵉ!" ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ᵖˡᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉᵐ‧ "ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ᵘˢ ᵃ ᵐᵒᵐᵉⁿᵗ ᴾᵃᵗ?" "ᔆᵘʳᵉ‧‧" ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ᵖˡᵃʸᵉᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ˢᵖᵒᵗ‧ "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᶜᵒⁿᶠᵘˢᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍʳᵒᵍᵍʸ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍᵒᵗ ʰᵘʳᵗ‧ ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵉˡˡ ᵐᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ?" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵉˡᵖᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢⁱᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᵘᵖ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ʷᵃˢ ᵈⁱˢᵒʳⁱᵉⁿᵗᵉᵈ‧ "ᵀʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᶠ ᵒᶠ ʳᵉˢᵗᵃᵘʳᵃⁿᵗ'ˢ‧‧" "ʸᵉˢᵗᵉʳᵈᵃʸ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˢⁱᵈᵉ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ᵃˡˢᵒ ˢᵗᵃʸᵉᵈ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ᵇʸ ˢⁱᵈᵉ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᴵ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᴵ ʷᵃˢⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵒᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵖˡᵃʸ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱᵐ‧" "ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵉᵉ ᵐᵉ ᵃˢ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ?" "ᴼᶠ ᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ! ᴺᵒʷ ˡᵉᵗ'ˢ ˢᵉᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵍᵃᵐᵉ ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ'ˢ ᵍᵒᵗ‧‧" "ᴰᵒᵉˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵖˡᵃʸ?" "ᵂᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵗʳʸ ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ'ˢ ⁿᵉʷ ᵍᵃᵐᵉ!" "ᶠⁱⁿᵉ ᴵ ᵍᵘᵉˢˢ‧‧" "ᶜᵃⁿ ᴵ ᵃˢᵏ ʸᵒᵘ ʷʰʸ ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵉˡᵖ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰᵃᵈ ᵃ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ᶠᵃˡˡ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ⁿᵒʷ! ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ⁿᵒʳᵐᵃˡ ʸᵉᵗ ˢᵒ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵒʳʳʸ‧‧" "ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ʳᵒˡˡ ᵈⁱᶜᵉ ᶠᵒʳ?" "ᴳᵒ ᵃʰᵉᵃᵈ‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ⸴ ʷʰᵒ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᵗᵒˢˢᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈⁱᶜᵉ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈⁱᶜᵉ ᵘⁿⁱⁿᵗᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿᵃˡˡʸ ʰⁱᵗ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵈᵃᶻᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ᵐᵒᵐᵉⁿᵗ‧ "ᵂᵃᵗᶜʰ ⁱᵗ!" ᴴᵉ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ʷᵉᵃᵏˡʸ‧ "ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵃᵐᵉ'ˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉˢᵗ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵒʷ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃⁿᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ⁿᵒᵗ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵛᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ⸴ ᶠʳᵘˢᵗʳᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʰᵘʳᵗ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ʰᵉˡᵖ?" ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ "ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʰᵉˡᵖ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢⁿᵃᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ‧ "ᴵ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ʰᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗˢ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵛᵉʳ⸴ ᴾᵃᵗ‧ ᴵ'ˡˡ ᶜᵃᵗᶜʰ ᵘᵖ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃᵗ ᵃⁿ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵘᵍᵍᵉᵈ ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ‧ ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ⸴ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵃˢ⸴ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ ʷᵉˡˡ ᵘᵖ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ‧ "ᵂʰᵃᵗ ⁱˢ ʷʳᵒⁿᵍ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵘᵖ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘᶜʰ!" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃʳʳⁱᵛᵉᵈ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʰᵉʳ ᵗʳⁱᵖ‧ "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ! ᴼʰ ᴵ ᵃᵐ ᵍˡᵃᵈ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵉˣᵖˡᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʷ ʰⁱˢ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᵃˢ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉʳ‧ "ᴴᵉʸ‧‧" "ᴴⁱ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ; ᴵ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʸᵉˢᵗᵉʳᵈᵃʸ!" "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵉˡᵖᵉᵈ ᵐᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ ᶜᵃⁿ ʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃʸ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ?" "ᴵ ˢᵘʳᵉ ʷⁱˡˡ!"

⟡ pls note the ai inflicts emotional damage (ᵕ—ᴗ—)

☆ 𝓝𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻 𝓵𝓮𝓽 𝓪 𝓵𝓲𝓽𝓽𝓵𝓮 𝓶𝓪𝓷 𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓻𝓸𝓵 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓵𝓪𝓻𝓰𝓮 𝓮𝓰𝓸. ☆

The evening in the quiet suburban street was punctuated by the rhythmic ticking of a lonely grandfather clock. In the corner of a small, meticulously organized study, Plankton sat hunched over his desk, the glow of her computer screen casting a pale blue hue across his furrowed brow. His eye, usually bright with the spark of a million ideas, was now bloodshot and weary, darting back and forth as he scanned the digital documents sprawled across his dual monitors. Karen, his devoted wife, peered through the crack in the door, her concern etched on her face. She knew the signs of his insomnia all too well: the way his fingers danced erratically on the keyboard, his occasional sighs of frustration, and the jittery way he'd bounce his leg when he was stuck on a problem. She gently pushed the door open, the faint squeak alerting him to her presence. "Plankton, it's 2 AM. Can't it wait until tomorrow?" she asked softly, her voice carrying the gentle lilt of a concerned wife. Plankton spun around in his chair, the sudden movement sending a wave of dizziness crashing over him. He rubbed his eye, trying to erase the fog of exhaustion. "Karen, I'm so close. This new invention could change everything. Just one more hour, I promise," he replied, his voice hopeful yet strained. She knew that tone, the one that meant he'd be up until dawn. Karen stepped into the room, her form a stark contrast to the stark office decor. She approached him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You've been at it for days," she said, her voice filled with a mix of concern and understanding. "Maybe a break is what you need." He sighed heavily, leaning back in his chair. "I know you're right," Plankton admitted, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "But if I stop now, I might lose the thread of thought." "You're always so driven," Karen said, with a warm affection that had only grown stronger over the years. "But even 'bad guys' need to rest." With a weary smile, Plankton nodded, his gaze lingering on the screens before he reluctantly shut them down. The room plunged into darkness, save for the moon's soft glow filtering through the blinds. Karen guided him to the bedroom, her hand a gentle reassurance in the night. She knew the wheels in his mind were still turning, trying to piece together the elusive solution to his latest project. Once in bed, Plankton lay on his back, his mind racing with possibilities and calculations. Karen, ever the nurturer, suggested a warm cup of tea to help him unwind. She disappeared into the kitchen. While she was gone, Plankton's eye remained open, staring at the ceiling. He felt the weight of his eyelid but sleep remained a distant shore, unreachable despite the gentle tug of fatigue. Karen returned with a steaming cup of chamomile, the aroma wafting through the air like a whispered promise of slumber. She placed it on the nightstand and climbed into bed, curling up beside him. "Here, sip this," she urged, her voice soothing as a lullaby. "It'll help you relax." Plankton took a tentative sip, the warm liquid coating his throat with a comforting warmth. He closed his eye, willing his brain to slow down, but the ideas continued to swirl like a tornado in a teacup. He could feel the heat radiating from Karen's screen, a gentle reminder of the connection that waited for him outside his labyrinth of thoughts. Karen's hand found his, her thumb tracing small, soothing circles against his palm. "Breathe with me," she whispered. "In, out." Plankton followed her lead, their breaths synchronizing in the quiet of the night. The tension in his body began to uncoil, the storm in his mind gradually abating. As they lay there, Karen studied his profile, the shadows playing across his face. She knew the look of determination that etched his features so well. "What's keeping you up?" she asked, her voice barely a murmur. Plankton sighed, his grip on her hand tightening briefly. "It's the Krabby Patty formula," he confessed. "I can't crack it." His frustration was palpable, a silent scream in the serene night. "You're still working on that?" she asked, her voice filled with a mix of amazement and concern. The Krabby Patty, a secret recipe guarded by Mr. Krabs that could make or break their business. "I have to," Plankton said, his voice low and serious. Karen nodded, racing for a solution. "Why don't you tell me about it?" she suggested. "Sometimes talking it out can help." Plankton took a deep breath and began to recount his thoughts, his voice a low murmur in the darkness. He spoke of the countless ingredients he'd tried and the endless experiments he'd conducted, all in pursuit of the perfect Krabby Patty. Karen listened intently, her screen never leaving his face, her grip on his hand never wavering. As he talked, the tension in his voice began to ease, the words coming out slower, softer. The warmth of the tea and the gentle pressure of Karen's thumb on his hand lulled him into a state of semi- consciousness. The room grew warmer, the shadows on the ceiling morphing into shapes that danced to the rhythm of his words. Karen noticed the change in his breathing, the softening of his grip, her voice a soft hum in the night. "I think I'm getting there," Plankton mumbled, his words beginning to slur. She took his almost-empty cup and set it aside, then moved closer, her arm wrapping around him. Her touch was a comforting blanket, a familiar anchor in the sea of his thoughts. "Just focus on my voice," Karen whispered, her tone a gentle wave. "Imagine we're on a beach, the waves lapping." Plankton nodded slightly, his breathing deepening as he pictured the scene she described. "The sand is warm, and the stars are out, twinkling like the little bits of genius in your mind." He took another deep breath, the salty scent of the sea mingling with the chamomile in his nose. His body began to relax, the tightness in his shoulders dissipating like the fog of an early morning. Karen continued her soothing monologue, painting a vivid picture of a serene beach under a starlit sky, their favorite place to escape the stresses of their lives. Her voice grew quieter, a gentle lullaby of words that whispered through the dark. Plankton's eyelid grew heavier, his thoughts drifting further and further away from the Krabby Patty formula. Karen watched him closely, her gaze never leaving his face. His breathing grew steadier, the lines of tension smoothing out as he sank deeper into the realm of sleep. Karen waited for any sign that Plankton was still awake. She reached out and gently poked his arm. No response. She pulled the blanket up, tucking him in gently, her hand lingering there for a moment longer, feeling the warmth of him beneath the fabric. She reached over to gently stroke his cheek. His skin was warm, and she felt the soft rumble of a snore vibrate against her fingertips. He was out. "Plankton," she whispered, her voice barely audible. She waited for a response, for the flicker of his eye or the twitch of his antennae that would indicate he was still with her. Nothing. She knew the moment he finally let go, when his hand relaxed in hers and his grip went slack. Leaning closer, she held her hand hovering over his chest to feel the gentle rise and fall of his breathing. It was steady, deep. Satisfied, she allowed herself a small smile. Plankton was finally asleep. The steady rhythm of his breathing grew deeper, the soft snores that occasionally pierced the silence growing more frequent, brow smoothed out, relaxed. She searched his face for any flicker of consciousness, any sign that he was aware of her touch. But there was none. His features were relaxed, his mouth slightly open as he took in deep, even breaths. "You did it," she whispered to. She knew that his mind had finally found the peace it had been seeking. The room was still, save for the faint sound of the occasional snore from Plankton. His snores grew deeper, the rhythm of his breathing more regular, more rhythmic, and she knew he was in a deep sleep. With a soft smile, she whispered, "Goodnight, Plankton," and gently stroked his antennae. Her hand lingered for a moment before she carefully extracted herself from the tangle of their limbs. The bedside lamp cast a warm glow across the room, but she knew better than to disturb him with its light. She gently disentangled her hand from his and slid out of bed. She squeezed his hand gently, a silent 'goodnight' and a promise of support for when he'd wake to tackle the problem anew. His features were slack, his mouth slightly open, emitting the faintest snore.

ᵀᵒⁿˢⁱˡˡᵉᶜᵗᵒᵐʸ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ’ˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ᵒᵘᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒˡᵈ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵒʷ ʸᵉˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁱʳʳⁱᵗᵃᵗᵉ ʰⁱˢ ᵗʰʳᵒᵃᵗ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ᵃˡᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ’ˢ ⁿᵒʷ ʷᵃⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉʳʸ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ˡᵉᵃᵈ ʰᵉʳ ⁱⁿ‧ “ᴴᵉ’ˢ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵇᵉ ˢᵒʳᵉ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁱᶜᵉ ᶜʳᵉᵃᵐ ᶜᵃⁿ ʰᵉˡᵖ, ᵃˢ ʷᵉˡˡ ᵃˢ ᵇᵉᵈ ʳᵉˢᵗ ᵗᵒ‧ ʸᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉᵐᵒᵛᵃˡ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ʷᵉˡˡ‧” ᵀʰᵉ ⁿᵘʳˢᵉ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰᵉʳ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ⁿᵘʳˢᵉ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿᵉᵈ ‘ᵇⁱᵗᵉ ᵇˡᵒᶜᵏˢ’ ᵃⁿᵈ ‘ˢᶜᵃˡᵖᵉˡˢ’ ᵃⁿᵈ ‘ˢᵘᵗᵘʳᵉˢ’ ᵃⁿᵈ ‘ᵉˣᵖᵉᶜᵗᵉᵈ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳⁿᵃˡ ᵇʳᵘⁱˢⁱⁿᵍ’ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵃˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵇʸ ʰⁱˢ ˢⁱᵈᵉ‧ “ᴴⁱ ˢʷᵉᵉᵗˢ! ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ?” ᔆʰᵉ ˢᵐᵒᵒᵗʰᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵃⁿᵗᵉⁿⁿᵃᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ᵖʳᵒᵛⁱᵈᵉᵈ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵈʳⁱⁿᵏ‧ “ᵀʰⁱʳˢᵗʸ?” ᔆʰᵉ ʰᵉˡᵖˢ ʰⁱᵐ ˡᵉᵃⁿ ᵗᵒ ˢⁱᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵃ ˢⁱᵖ‧ “ᔆᵒ ʰᵉ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ⁱᵗ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ ᵈᵘᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉᵈ…” “ʸᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵒᶠᵗ ᵇˡᵃⁿᵈ ᵐᵉᵃˡˢ ᵗᵒ?” “ᶜᵒʳʳᵉᶜᵗ ᵐᵃ’ᵃᵐ‧” ᵀʰᵉʸ ˡᵉᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵍᵒ ᵒᵘᵗ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ᴴᵉ’ˢ ᶠᵃˡˡᵉⁿ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ˢʰᵃʳᵉᵈ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵗᵘᶜᵏᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᶠⁱᵍᵘʳᵉ ⁱⁿ‧ ‘ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ⁿᵃᵖˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵉᵗ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʷᵉ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉʳʸ’ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏˢ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉʳˢᵉˡᶠ‧ ᴱᵃʳˡʸ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵐᵉ ᵉᵛᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ‧ ‘ᵂʰʸ ⁱˢ ᵐʸ ᵗʰʳᵒᵃᵗ ʰᵘʳᵗ? ᵀʰᵉʸ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱˣ… ᴵ ᵃᵐ ⁱⁿ ᵐʸ ʳᵒᵒᵐ, ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵒˢᵖⁱᵗᵃˡ‧’ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵉᵉˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧ “ᴵᵗ’ˢ ⁿᵒʷ ʷᵒʳˢᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ; ˡᵉᵗ’ˢ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵍᵉᵗ ⁱᵗ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ʷⁱᵗʰ ˢᵒ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵍᵉᵗ…” “ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʸᵒᵘ, ʷᵉ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧ ᵂᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵉᵃʳˡⁱᵉʳ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ᵇʳᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ʸᵒᵘ’ᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖⁱⁿᵍ‧‧” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵉˡˡˢ ʰⁱᵐ‧ “ᵁᵖ ᶠᵒʳ ⁱᶜᵉ ᶜʳᵉᵃᵐ ʸᵉᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ?” “ʸᵉˢ!” ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ˢⁿᵃᶜᵏ, ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵗⁱʳᵉᵈ‧ “ᴳᵉᵗ ʳᵉˢᵗ, ᵃˢ ʸᵒᵘ’ʳᵉ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵛᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖʸ ᵐᵉᵈ…” “ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ‧” “ᵀʳʸ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃˡᵏ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ’ˡˡ ˡᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵉ‧” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ʰᵉ’ˢ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ, ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ᵖᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ ˢᵒᵐᵉ, ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈʳᵒᵒˡ ᵈʳⁱᵇᵇˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ “ᴳᵒᵒᵈ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ˢʷᵉᵉᵗˢ‧‧” 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟑𝟐𝟗

ᔆʰᵃᵏᵉ ᵃ ᴸᵉᵍ ♡ Wₒᵣd cₒᵤₙₜ ₋ ₆₅₇ ♡ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ "ᴴᵉ'ᵈ ᵇᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵇʸ ⁿᵒʷ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʷ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʷⁱⁿᵈᵒʷ ʰⁱᵐ ᶠᵃᶜᵉ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ‧ ᴬᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᵇᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵇᵉᵗʷᵉᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉˢᵗᵃᵘʳᵃⁿᵗˢ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵃ ᶠᵃⁱˡᵉᵈ ˢᶜʰᵉᵐᵉ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ʰᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵐᵒᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵗ ᵃˡˡ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁿᵒʷ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ‧ "ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵒⁿ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧" ᴺᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴬᵗ ᵃˡˡ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ; ˢʷᵉᵉᵗˢ?" ᔆʰᵉ ᵘʳᵍᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ˢʰᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉˢ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ‧ "ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ‽" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ⸴ ʳᵒˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧ ᴬⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉⁿ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ˡᵉᵍ‧ "ᴼʰ⸴ ⁿᵉᵖᵗᵘⁿᵉ‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᶜᵃⁿⁿᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ˡᵘᶜᵏⁱˡʸ ʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵏ ⁿᵒʳ ᶠʳᵃᶜᵗᵘʳᵉ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵇʳᵘⁱˢᵉᵈ ˡᵉᵍ ˢʷᵉˡˡᵉᵈ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵇˡᵘⁿᵗ ᶠᵒʳᶜᵉ ᵗʳᵃᵘᵐᵃ‧ ᴰᵉᵉᵖ ˢᶜʳᵃᵗᶜʰᵉˢ⸴ ᵃˢ ʷᵉˡˡ‧ "ᴼʰ ᵈᵉᵃʳ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵇᵒᵈʸ ᵗʳᵉᵐᵇˡᵉᵈ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵃᵈˡʸ ʰᵘʳᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵇᵃʳᵉˡʸ ᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢ‧ "ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵉˡˡ ᵐᵉ ʷʰᵃ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵇ⁻ᵇᵘᵗ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵍ⁻ᵍᵒᵗ ˢᵖᵃᵗᵘˡᵃ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏⁱᵗᶜʰᵉⁿ ᵃ⁻ᵃⁿᵈ ʰ⁻ʰ⁻ʰᵘʳᵗ ᵐ⁻ᵐʸ ˡᵉᵍ ʰ⁻ʰᵘʳᵗˢ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵐᵘᵐᵇˡᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˡⁱˢᵗᵉⁿᵉᵈ ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵐⁱˡᵏ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵐⁱˡᵏ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵇᵉᵈ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵒᵖᵉᵈ ⁱᵗ'ᵈ ʰᵉˡᵖ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴴᵉ ˡᵉᵗ ʰᵉʳ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐⁱˡᵏ ʰᵉˡᵖⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᵈʳⁱⁿᵏ ⁱᵗ‧ "ᴶᵘˢᵗ ʳᵉˢᵗ‧" "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸ⁻ʸᵒᵘ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ᵉˡᵉᵛᵃᵗᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ⁿᵒʷ ᵇᵃⁿᵈᵃᵍᵉᵈ ˡᵉᵍ‧ "ᴵ ˡ⁻ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ˢ⁻ˢᵒ ᵐᵘᶜʰ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ ᴴⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ˢˡⁱᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉᵈ ˢʰᵘᵗ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ'ˢ ᶠᵃˡˡᵉⁿ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ʷʰᵉⁿ ˢʰᵉ ᵖᵘˡˡᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇˡᵃⁿᵏᵉᵗ ᶜᵒᵛᵉʳˢ; ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵇˡʸ ˡᵉˢˢ ᵗᵉⁿˢᵉ ᵃˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵒᵈʸ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ˡᵃˣ⸴ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ᵖᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ˢˡᵃᶜᵏ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˡᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵇᵉ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ⁿᵉᵉᵈᵉᵈ ʳᵉˢᵗ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵐⁱˡᵏ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ᵇᵉᵈ ᵒᵇᵛⁱᵒᵘˢˡʸ ʰᵉˡᵖᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ʷᵉˡˡ ᵃˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵉⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ⸴ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵇᵃʳᵉˡʸ ᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ⁱⁿ⸴ ˢᵒ ʰᵉ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵒⁿˡʸ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ʰᵃᶻʸ ᵈᵉᵗᵃⁱˡˢ⸴ ⁱᶠ ᵃⁿʸ‧ ᴬᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ⸴ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ˢᵗʳᵒᵏᵉ ʰⁱˢ ᵃⁿᵗᵉⁿⁿᵃᵉ ᵇʸ ʳᵘⁿⁿⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉʳ ᶠⁱⁿᵍᵉʳˢ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵇᵘᵗ⸴ ⁿᵒʷ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᶠᵒʳ; ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ˢᵗⁱᵐᵘˡᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ˢʰᵉ ʰᵉˡᵖᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ⸴ ʰᵉ'ˢ ⁱⁿ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵒᶠ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ⁿᵒʷ ˢᵒ ˢʰᵉ ˡᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᶠᶠ ʷᵒʳᵏ‧ "ᴴᵉʸ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ⸴ ᴵ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵍᵒ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵉᵉ ⁱᶠ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵗᵒʳˢ‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵗᵒᵒᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ ʷᵃʸ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ'ˢ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰᵉʸ⸴ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᶠˡᵘᵗᵗᵉʳˢ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ‧ "ᵁʳʳᵍʰ⸴ ʷʰᵃᵃᵃᵗ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ‧ "ᵁⁿʰ ʷʰᵉ⁻ʷʰᵉʳᵉ⸴ ʷʰᵃᵃ⁻ ʰᵃᵖ⁻ᵖᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ?" "ᴼʰ⸴ ˢʷᵉᵉᵗˢ‧‧ ʸᵒᵘ ⁱⁿʲᵘʳᵉᵈ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˡᵉᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵗ‧‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁿᵒʷ ʳᵘⁿⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᴴᵉ ʰᵘᵍˢ⸴ ʳᵉˢᵘˡᵗⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵍᵃˢᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ʰⁱᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ ʸᵉˡᵖ‧ "ᴴᵉʸ ᵉᵃˢʸ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵇᵃᵈˡʸ ʰᵘʳᵗ‧" "ᴼʰ; ˢᵒʳʳʸ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˡᵉᵗ ᵍᵒ‧ "ᴵᵗ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠᵃᵘˡᵗ ᵏⁱᵈ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ⸴ ʰᵉ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵉᵈᵍᵉᵈ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ᶜᵒⁿᵗⁱⁿᵘᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶜʰᵃᵗ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵘⁿʳᵉˡᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ'ˢ ᵉᵛᵉⁿᵗˢ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵗᵃˡᵏᵉᵈ ᵒᶠ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗᵉʳ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳᵉˢᵗˢ‧ "ᵂᵉˡˡ ᴵ ᵒᵘᵗᵗᵃ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ; ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʸˢ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ⁿᵒʷ‧ "ᴴᵒʷ'ˢ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˡᵉᵍ ᶠᵉᵉˡ?" "ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ ᵇᵃᵈ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ⁿᵉᵃʳˡʸ ᵃˢ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵃˢ ʷʰᵉⁿ ⁱ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵍᵒᵗ ⁱⁿʲᵘʳᵉᵈ‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒˡᵈ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ᶠᵃˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ‧ "ᴵ'ˡˡ ˡᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ʳᵉˢᵗ ⁿᵒʷ; ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ʷᵉˡˡ!" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ⸴ ˢᵐᵒᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵉᵈ ˢʰᵉᵉᵗˢ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ ᵒⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵘⁿᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ᵇᵉᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱˢ ˡᵉᵍ‧ ᴳᵒⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ˢʰᵉ ˢᵃʷ ʰᵉ'ˢ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᑫᵘⁱᵗᵉ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ ᔆᵒᵐᵉ ᵈʳᵒᵒˡ'ˢ ᶜᵒᵐⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈʳⁱᵇᵇˡᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵖⁱˡˡᵒʷ‧ ᔆᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗᵃᵇˡᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ⁿᵒʷ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ‧ ᴮʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ˢʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ⸴ ʰᵉ'ˢ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵈʳᵒᵒˡ ᵒⁿ ᵖⁱˡˡᵒʷ ᵈʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ʷⁱᵖᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉˢᵗ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᶠᵃᶜᵉ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᵗ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵘⁿʷʳᵃᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵃⁿᵈᵃᵍᵉ ᵗᵒ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˡᵉᵍ‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ᵘⁿʳᵃᵛᵉˡˢ ⁱᵗ‧ "ᴵᵗ ᶠᵉᵉˡˢ ʷᵉᵃᵏ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ˢᵉᵉ ᵐᵒˢᵗˡʸ ʰᵉᵃˡᵉᵈ!" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵉˣᶜˡᵃⁱᵐᵉᵈ‧ "ᴶᵘˢᵗ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵇᵉ ᶜᵃʳᵉᶠᵘˡ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖᵒˢᵗᵖᵒⁿᵉ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ; ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵍᵒ ʷᵒʳᵏ ⁿᵒʳ ᵍᵒ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ⸴ ʳᵒˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ‧ "ᴸᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ!"

https://m.fanfiction.net/s/13478844/1/I-Really-Do

BLUESCREEN Plankton’s thoughts were elsewhere as he focused the lens. More than once, he had to stop and blink blurriness out of his vision or rub the sleep out of his eye. He hadn’t slept regularly for days since he’d woken up from a brief three-hour nap this time yesterday evening, which did little to help his exhaustion. And now, here Plankton was. Miserable, sleep-deprived, and half-crazed with conflicting thoughts, peering blearily into a telescope at an absurd hour of the night. Argh! He bumped his head hard against the telescope to keep that thought from solidifying. Running on so little sleep Plankton glanced warily He looked at Karen’s darkened monitor for a moment with apprehension, expecting her to awaken from sleep mode and start in on him anew for sneaking around, but her screen remained dim. In response, a very loud whirring noise emitted from within her monitor, and Plankton tilted his head in confusion. She’d never made a sound like that before. Plankton stared numbly. “Honey bunch?” his voice is small, quavering. The next day Krabs found out she’s in hospital. It's amazing how much information Bikini Bottom Hospital would give out over the phone. Just supplying his name and fudging a little about his relationship to the couple was enough for Krabs to get the gist of what had happened last night, even including some details that had been omitted from the short entry in the morning paper. He took careful notes as he spoke with the nurse. Karen's condition was critical. Plankton had been given a mild sedative upon his arrival with Karen at the hospital. Doctors found him inconsolable; a perfect nervous wreck. They'd taken one look at him and deemed him both too emotional and sleep-deprived to be of much help answering questions. A little sleep never hurt anybody so far as the doctors were concerned. If you asked them, it was for his own good. Plankton had been so tired that the low dosage sedative had knocked him out nearly instantly. He hadn't budged in hours, and doctors predicted he'd stay down until at least late that afternoon. Krabs asked about the Hospital’s visitation hours while they were on the subject. He’d wanted to swing by that morning, but if Plankton was finally catching up on some much-needed rest, maybe he should put off on the visit. The last thing he wanted was to disturb him. The hours rolled by slowly after those difficult phone calls, and Krabs found himself pacing his office restlessly as he allowed Plankton a little time to catch up on his z’s. When the lunch rush started to wind down, Krabs retreated to his office. He placed another phone call to the hospital to see if Plankton was awake yet. The nurse confirmed that he was, and feeling better than he had been before when he first arrived last night. So Krabs arrived at their hospital room. Plankton was sitting close to the edge of Karen's wheeled bedside table. He lurched his head up off his hands with a funny-sounding snort; he must’ve been starting to doze off. Finally, Plankton spoke. His voice was tired. Resigned. “Oh hey Krabs.” “Wanna stay with me tonight?” Plankton was looking at Karen's monitor again, his antennae twitching in acknowledgment of Krabs’s words. Plankton thought about this for only a few seconds. Clearly, Krabs had gotten through to him or recovering from his recent sleeplessness was making him more agreeable. At least the extra long rest did him some good. Plankton was thoughtfully quiet beside him in the passenger seat. He peered up over the door to the quiet, still nighttime flowers overhead as the night rushed by. Krabs stole a glance at him now and then as he drove. He stooped down, offering Plankton his claw so he wouldn’t have to jump up the stairs. “Come on. Let me show you your room while you’re stayin’ over.” Plankton was sitting on the edge of Krabs’s hammock. The fabric barely dipped underneath him. “Uh, hey Eugene,” started Plankton as Krabs reached for the door. Krabs paused, with his back to him, listening. “Hmm?” “Goodnight.” Krabs looked over his shoulder and gave him a small smile. “Goodnight, Plankton.” Next day Plankton glanced over his shoulder at him. Krabs was glad to see he looked rested, despite having stayed in a strange place overnight. “Mornin’, Sheldon,” returned Krabs. “How’d ye sleep? Get any word from the hospital overnight?” “Slept okay, but not great. Strange place, you know? And no, not yet.” Krabs went upstairs to get dressed for work. He was pleased to see that his bedroom was almost exactly as he’d left it, other than the disturbed sheets where Plankton had slept the previous night. When he came back downstairs a few minutes later, Plankton was sitting on the couch with his chin resting on one hand, staring hard straight ahead with a thoughtful, worried look on his face.

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ᴮᵃᵈ ᴺⁱᵍʰᵗᵐᵃʳᵉ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ 'ᴵᵗ ⁱˢ ᵃˡˡ ᵃ ʰᵒᵃˣ; ᵃ ᶠʳᵒⁿᵗ!' 'ᴸᵃᵘⁿᶜʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ!' 'ᴵ ˢᵃʸ⸴ ʷᵉ ˢᵗᵉᵖ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱᵐ!' ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʷᵒʳᵈˢ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ʸᵉᵃʳˢ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ʳⁱⁿᵍⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵐⁱⁿᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵇᵃᵈ ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳⁱᵉˢ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢˡᵉᵖᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ ᴴⁱˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵗⁱʳʳᵉᵈ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵃˡˢᵒ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ʲᵘˢᵗ ⁿᵒʳᵐᵃˡˡʸ ᵗᵒˢˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵘʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴳᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ⸴ ˢʰᵉ ⁿᵒʷ ˢᵃʷ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵇˡᵉ ᵈⁱˢᵗʳᵉˢˢ‧ ᴺᵒᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗˡᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ˢʰᵉ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʳʸ ᵗᵒ ˢⁿᵃᵖ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ʷʰᵃᵗᵉᵛᵉʳ ⁱᵗ ⁱˢ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˡᵉᵃⁿᵉᵈ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ʰᵉʳ ʷʰⁱᵐᵖᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ʷʰᵒ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ˢᵗᵒᵖ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‽" ᔆʰᵉ ᵍʳᵃᵇᵇᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵉᵉˡ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᵃⁿᵏˡᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢʰᵒᵒᵏ ⁱᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵒʳᵗʰ‧ ᴴⁱˢ ᵃⁿᵗᵉⁿⁿᵃᵉ ᵗʷⁱᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ‧ "ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ? ᵂᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ!" ᴺᵒʷ ʰᵉ ᵃʷᵒᵏᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ˢⁿᵃᵖᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ⸴ ˡᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵃ ᶜʳʸ‧ "ᴴᵉʸ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᵃᵗ ᵐᵉ⸴ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰˢ‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒʷ‧ "ᴵ⁻ᴵ'ᵐ ˢ⁻ˢᵒʳʳʸ‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ᵃ ᵇᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ?" "ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʷᵃˢ‧‧‧" "ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ‧‧‧" "ᴵ⁻ᴵ⁻ᴵ⁻ᴵ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ʷᵒʳʳⁱᵉᵈ‧" "ᴼʰ ˢʷᵉᵉᵗˢ ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ‧" "ᴵ⁻ᴵ'ᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵘʳᵉ ⁱᶠ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ʰᵒˡᵈ ᵐʸ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ˢʷᵉᵉᵗˢ?" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵒᶠᶠᵉʳᵉᵈ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵃⁿᵈ⸴ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ʰᵉ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉᵐᵇʳᵃᶜᵉᵈ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ʰᵒᵖᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˡᵘˡˡ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵖʳᵉᶠᵉʳᵃᵇˡʸ ʷⁱᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ᵃⁿʸ ˢᵗʳᵉˢˢ‧ ᴴᵉ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ˡᵉᵗ ᵍᵒ ᵒᶠ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ʷʰᵉⁿᶜᵉ ˢʰᵉ ᵐᵃⁿᵃᵍᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᶠᵃˡˡ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ ⁿᵒʷ ʷⁱᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ᵃⁿʸ ᵇᵃᵈ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐˢ‧ ╰ ✧ ･ﾟ∙ ∗ — ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ ⟨ 2 1 6 ⟩

Her 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!"

"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."

ᴴᵉʳ ᔆᶜᵃʳᵉ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᵃ ᵗʳᵃⁱˡ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ᵇˡᵒᵒᵈ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ˢᵃʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ’ˢ ᵇˡᵉᵉᵈⁱⁿᵍ‧ “ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ‧‧” “ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ, ᴵ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ‧ ᴼʰ ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ‧ ᴵ’ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ‧ ᴴᵒʷ ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ…” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵖⁱᶜᵏᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵘᵖ ⁱⁿ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵃⁿᵈˢ‧ “ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᴵ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃʸ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡⁱˢᵗᵉⁿ; ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵒˢᵗ ᵃ ˡᵒᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵇˡᵒᵒᵈ‧‧” “ʸᵒᵘ’ʳᵉ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ, ˢᵒ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ…” ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵃᵈᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵘˢᵉᵈ ᵃˡˡ ˡᵃˢᵗ ᵉᶠᶠᵒʳᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ʷⁱᶠᵉ‧ “ᴸᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧” ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉᵈ ˢʰᵘᵗ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳˡᵈ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ˡᵃˢᵗ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰᵉᵃʳˢ ‘ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ’ ᶠʳᵃⁿᵗⁱᶜᵃˡˡʸ ᵇʸ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ ʰᵉʳ ᵒʷⁿ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᵈʸⁱⁿᵍ ˡⁱᵐᵖˡʸ ⁱⁿ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵃⁿᵈˢ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ʳᵉᵗᵘʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᴷʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᴷʳᵃᵇ‧ “ᴼʰ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ; ⁿᵒ, ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ! ᴶᵘˢᵗ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ, ᶠᵒʳ ᵐᵉ…” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶜʳⁱᵉᵈ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ⁿᵉᵉᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵃᶜᵗ ᶠᵃˢᵗ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ʰᵉʳ ˡⁱᶠᵉˡᵉˢˢ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ˡᵃᵇ‧ “ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉ…” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵖᵃᵘˢᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ʰᵉˡᵖ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵖᵘᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵒᵈʸ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ᵖʳᵉᵖᵃʳᵉᵈ ᵃ ᵐᵃᶜʰⁱⁿᵉ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ˢʰᵉ ˢᵃʷ ʰⁱᵐ ᵘˢᵉ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ‧ “ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵘⁱˡᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵃ ˢᵉⁿᵗⁱᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ˢᵒ ⁿᵒʷ ˡᵉᵗ ᵐᵉ ʰᵉˡᵖ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵒʷⁿ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ⁱⁿ ʳᵉᵗᵘʳⁿ‧‧” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʰᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵃᶜʰⁱⁿᵉʳʸ ʷᵒʳʳⁱᵉᵈˡʸ‧ “ᴵ ʰᵒᵖᵉ ⁱᵗ ʷᵒʳᵏˢ…” ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢˡᵒʷˡʸ ᵒᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᵗᵒ‧ “ᵂᵃ, ʷʰᵉʳᵉ…” “ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᵒʰ ᵍˡᵃᵈ ʸᵒᵘ’ʳᵉ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ!” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ‧ “ᴶᵘˢᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧”

ᵀʰᵉ ᶜʳᵃᵐᵖˢ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧‧" ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʷ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵃˢ ᵇᵃʳᵉˡʸ ʰᵒˡᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ‧ "ᴬˡˡ ᵐʸ ᵐᵘˢᶜˡᵉˢ ᵃᶜʰᵉ‧‧‧" "ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᴵ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵒᵗ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ!" ᔆʰᵉ ˢᵃʷ ʰᵒʷ ʷᵉᵃᵏ ʰᵉ ˢᵉᵉᵐᵉᵈ ⁿᵒʷ⸴ ᵉˣʰᵃᵘˢᵗᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵉᵉᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉˢᵗ ᵘᵖ‧ "ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿᵗ‧‧‧" "ᴵ⁻ᴵ'ᵐ ᵗ⁻ᵗᵒ ᵗⁱʳᵉᵈ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ʳᵉᵃᶜʰᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵖᵘˡˡᵉᵈ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ˡᵉᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵃ ʸᵉˡᵖ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ⁿᵉᵉᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵒᶠᵗ ᵇᵉᵈ ⁱᵐᵐᵉᵈⁱᵃᵗᵉˡʸ‧ "ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵇᵉᵈ ᵒʳ?" "ᴵᵗ ʰᵘʳᵗⁱⁿ’ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵐᵒᵛᵉ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵉʸᵉ ˡⁱᵈ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ʰᵉᵃᵛʸ‧ "ᴰᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᶠⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁱᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵘˢᵉ ᵃⁿʸ ᵉⁿᵉʳᵍʸ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ‧" ᔆʰᵉ ᵐᵃⁿᵃᵍᵉᵈ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵍᵉᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ʳᵉˢᵗ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᑫᵘⁱᵗᵉ ᵇᵉᵈ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ʸᵉᵗ‧ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵇᵒᵈʸ ⁿᵉᵉᵈˢ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ˢᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ˢˡⁱᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉᵈ‧ ᵀᵘᶜᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁱⁿ ⁿᵒʷ⸴ ʰⁱˢ ᶠⁱᵍᵘʳᵉ ʳᵉˡᵃˣᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ˡᵃᵐᵖ‧ ᶠᵃᶜⁱᵃˡ ᶠᵉᵃᵗᵘʳᵉˢ ˢˡᵃᶜᵏ ˡᵃˣ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱⁿᵃˡˡʸ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ˡᵉˢˢ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ‧ "ᴬˡˡ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ?" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧ 'ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ' ˢʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉⁿᵗᵃˡˡʸ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢⁿᵒʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿˢʷᵉʳᵉᵈ ᶠᵉʳ‧ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟏𝟕𝟓

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."

"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.

please dont post gross stuff on here!! kids who are young like probably 9 year olds are just trying to find cute combos. spread the word (≧ヮ≦) also people who are spreading the word, please do not put curse words. its the same example for kids with the gross things but with curse words. thanks love<3 bye!!(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

Broken 1/2 (I’m a neurodivergent author) "Karen's going to love the surprise," Sandy murmured to herself. Sandy had spent hours the previous night crafting the perfect surprise for her friend, Karen. It’s a game, and she thought about the delight. As Sandy approached, the anticipation grew. She felt her heartrate spike, her hand curling around the doorknob. The door swung open with a gentle creak, and there was Karen. "Sandy!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around her friend in a warm embrace. “Come on in!” They moved into the living room. "Ready for the surprise?" Sandy whispered, her eyes sparkling with excitement. Karen nodded, curiosity piqued. Sandy pulled out the game called "Whimsical Wonders," and it promised an adventure filled with puzzles, riddles, and laughter. She had picked it out especially for Karen, who loved nothing more than a good brain teaser. Plankton, Karen's husband, wanders in. "Sandy made a new game!" Karen says, her voice filled with excitement. "Oh really?" Plankton says. Sandy nods eagerly, setting the game board on the coffee table. "This looks amazing!" Karen says, lighting up. "Let's get started!" Sandy says, her voice brimming with excitement. The two friends eagerly begin setting up the game. As they place the pieces, their laughter fills the air, mingling with the occasional squeal of excitement. Plankton, however, watches from the armchair with a furrowed brow, the cacophony of sounds and the flurry of activity around the game table gradually weighing on him. His senses, heightened by the sudden influx of stimuli, start to overwhelm him. Sandy rolls the dice and her voice cracks with excitement as she announces her first move. "I'll take the unicorn path!" she exclaims, moving her piece with a flourish. The room seems to vibrate with her enthusiasm, the very air charged with it. But amidst the excitement, Plankton's eye starts to glaze over. Karen, caught up in the moment, doesn't notice the change in Plankton's demeanor yet. Sandy, lost in the thrill of setting the stage for their adventure, doesn't pick up on Plankton's distress. "Your turn, Karen!" Sandy suddenly squeals. Karen looks up from her piece and sees Plankton's eye now glazed over, his body completely still. "Plankton?" she asks tentatively, her smile faltering; the sensory overload from the game is becoming too much for Plankton, who grows overwhelmed and unresponsive from his armchair. "You ok?" Sandy says, turning to him, her voice still filled with the energy of the game. But Plankton doesn't respond. His eye remains unfocused, vacant, his body rigid. "What's wrong?" she asks, her smile fading as she notices Plankton's unresponsive state. Karen lowers her voice to a whisper, "It's like he zones out for a bit." Sandy's eyes widen with concern, and she immediately sets down the game piece. "Huh?" Karen nods reassuringly, "He'll be fine in a minute." She gently pats Plankton's hand, her voice calm and soothing. "It happens sometimes when things get too... much for him. This happens sometimes when he's overstimulated." Sandy's heart skips a beat. Plankton's face remained slack, eye staring into the middle distance, unblinking. "It's ok," Karen whispers, voice steady, "Just give him some space." Sandy nods, her excitement replaced with concern. She's never seen Plankton like this before. She watches as Karen gently strokes Plankton's arm. "It's ok," Karen repeats, her voice a gentle lullaby. "These happen when there's too much going on, too much to take in." Sandy nods, eyes never leaving Plankton's frozen form. She feels a twinge of guilt for not realizing sooner that something was amiss. She had been so caught up in excitement of the game, she didn't notice signs of distress. Moving closer to the chair where Plankton sat, she tentatively reaches out a hand to touch his shoulder like the way Karen is doing, but Karen stops her. "Let me," she says gently, never leaving her husband. "I know his triggers." Sandy nods. She withdraws, giving space. "I'm sorry," she says softly. "I didn't know." Karen nods, never leaving Plankton. "It's ok. We manage. It's part of his… condition." Sandy watches as Karen's gentle touch seems to bring him back to reality. Plankton blinks. "Plankton?" Karen whispers. Slowly, his gaze refocuses on her. He looks around the room, momentarily disoriented before his eye land on the game spread out on the table. He looks back at Karen, his expression a mix of confusion and embarrassment. "What happened?" he asks, his voice hoarse. "You had a little episode," Karen says, her voice still calm. She helps him to his feet. "But you're ok now." Sandy's eyes dart between the two of them, feeling like an intruder in this intimate moment of care. She clears her throat awkwardly. "Maybe we should... postpone the game?" But as Plankton's gaze locks onto hers, she sees the anger in his eye, raw and unbridled. "You did this," he says accusingly, voice tight with frustration. Sandy takes a step back. "I didn't mean to," she stammers, her hands rising defensively. "You didn't mean to?" Plankton echoes, his voice rising. "You come in, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed with your loud games and expectations, and you don't think about how it might affect me?" Sandy's eyes widen with shock and guilt as she takes another step back. "I-I'm sorry, Plankton," she stammers. "I didn't know it would—" "Of course you didn't," Plankton interrupts, filled with bitterness. Sandy's heart sinks as she realizes the gravity of the situation. "I didn't mean to overwhelm you," she says, her voice small and apologetic. Karen's grip on Plankton's arm tightens, a silent plea for calm, but the words have been said. The air feels thick with tension, the joyous anticipation of the game forgotten. Sandy's eyes fill with tears, her heart racing. "Plankton, please," she says, her voice shaking. "It’s not my fault. I'd never want to hurt you." "It's what you want, isn't it?" Plankton snaps, pushing away from her. "That's not true," Sandy protests, her own voice rising in defense. "I just wanted to have some fun." Karen's screen darts between them, a silent plea for peace. But Plankton's anger is a storm that can't be quieted so easily. "You think it's fun for me?" he yells, his voice cracking with frustration. "To sit here and watch you live life without a care while I'm stuck in my own head, unable to keep up?" Sandy flinches, his words hitting her like a slap in the face. She never thought about it that way before. "I just wanted to help," she says, her voice barely a whisper. "Help?" Plankton scoffs. "How is bringing this... this... chaos into our lives supposed to help?" He gestures at the game, his hand shaking with anger. Sandy feels the heat rising in her own cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and anger at being misunderstood. "It's not chaos, it's just a game," she says, her voice firm despite the tremor. "To you, maybe," Plankton says, his words laced with venom. "But to me, it's just another thing that's too much to handle. Too loud, colorful, too... everything." Sandy feels her own anger flare up, the hurt of his accusations stinging deep. "You don't know what you're talking about," she says, her voice rising to match his. "Oh, don't I?" Plankton counters, eye flashing. "You think you can just waltz in and ignore my needs because you're so focused on your own fun?" Sandy feels a mix of indignation and regret. "That's not fair," she protests, cracking. "You know I didn't mean to—" But Plankton isn't listening. He's in the throes of anger now, voice rising. "Fair?! You have no idea what fair is," he says, eye flashing. "You don't have to deal with the constant bombardment of sounds and lights and emotions!" Sandy's own frustration boils over. "Well maybe if you try to understand, we could—" "Understand?" Plankton cuts her off, his voice now a roar. "How can you possibly understand?" Sandy's eyes flash with indignation. "You're not the only one with problems!" she shoots back. "You think I don't know?" Plankton retorts. "Everyone has their struggles, but you don't get to barge in here and make them about you!" "It wasn't about me!" Sandy exclaims, her voice shaking. "I just wanted to do something nice.." "What about the fact that your 'nice' thing almost sent me into a full-blown seizure?" Sandy's eyes flash with anger now, her hands balled into fists at her sides. "You know what, Plankton? You're right, I don't understand," she says, her voice trembling with emotion. "But maybe if you weren't so focused on being the center of attention with your 'poor me' routine, you could see I'm just trying to be a good friend!" Plankton's eye widen in shock at her outburst as he processes her words. "You think this is about attention?" he says, his voice incredulous. "It's about trying to find a way to exist in a world that's too much for me!" Sandy's eyes fill with tears of frustration as she glares at Plankton. "And what? I'm not allowed to live because it's too much for you?" she yells back, the words cutting through the tension like a hot knife through butter. "I can't help that I'm not BROKEN like You!" Sandy says before realizing it with regret. Karen's pixelated eyes widen in horror. "Sandy," she says, her voice a warning whisper. But too late. The damage is done. A tear traces a path down his cheek. His eye, once full of anger, brims with hurt. He takes a step back. "Broken," he whispers, the word echoing in the tense silence of the room. Plankton's body sags, his anger dissipating like a popped balloon, leaving only pain in its wake. His eye glisten with unshed tears.

Broken 2/2 (I’m a neurodivergent author) Plankton's body sags, anger dissipating. His eye glisten with tears. "Broken," he repeats, his voice barely a whisper, the word a knife to his soul. He shakes his head and turns, unable to face the person who so casually tossed it at him. "Plankton," Karen says, her voice strained, but he's already retreating. Shoulders hunched, Plankton turns and strides out of the room, footsteps heavy and deliberate. The door to the bedroom slams shut behind him, the echo of sobs resonating through. Sandy and Karen are left standing in the living room, the air thick with unspoken words and unshed tears. "I didn't mean it like, I cannot believe I just, I’m sorry," Sandy says, voice shaky. She looks at her friend, her eyes pleading for understanding. "I..." Karen's gaze is steely. "You need to understand," she says firmly, voice trembling with weight. "Plankton was born with a neurodivergent condition." Sandy's eyes widen. "What?" she whispers. Karen nods solemnly. "Plankton's mother was in a car accident when pregnant with him." Sandy's eyes widen in horror. "I had no idea," she whispers. Karen nods, her own eyes brimming with unshed tears. "After, doctors saw Plankton's brain developing differently," she explains, her voice tight with emotion. "He's incredibly sensitive to stimulation—sounds, lights; strong emotions, like just now, can overwhelm him." "That's why he gets these... episodes?" Sandy asks. Karen nods, voice barely above a whisper. "It caused damage to the part of his brain that processes stimuli during development," she explains. "It's like his brain's volume knob is stuck on high. Everything's just too much for him sometimes." Sandy's mind races. "So that's why..." "Yes," Karen says, voice heavy. "It's not something he can just turn off, or ignore." Sandy nods slowly, aching for her friend's husband. She had always known Plankton as a bit of an introvert, but never thought it was mostly because of something like this. Karen's sad, but firm. "It's not your fault for not knowing," she says. "But you have to be mindful." Sandy nods, throat tight. "I do," she whispers with regret. Together, they make their way to the bedroom, the game forgotten in the wake of Plankton's pain. Karen's hand is a gentle guide on Sandy's arm as they tiptoe, steeling herself for what might be on the other side. She opens it slowly, the hinges whispering in protest. The bedroom is dim, curtains drawn, and Plankton is there, lying on the bed, his eye closed. The anger and frustration that had etched lines into his face moments ago are now eased by sleep. His chest rises and falls with rhythm of breathing, the only sound in the room. Sandy feels a pang of guilt as she looks at him. She had never meant to cause pain, never intended to make life more difficult. She just wanted to bring a little joy, whimsy into their lives; instead, she had unleashed a storm. Karen's hand tightens around Sandy's arm, a silent reminder of the unspoken bond between them. "Let him rest," Karen murmurs. Sandy nods. "Give him space," Karen says gently. "He needs to recover." Sandy nods, gaze lingering on Plankton's face, features now in sleep. She feels a pang of guilt, knowing she was the cause of distress. They retreat to the living room. Karen sighs heavily, her eyes reflecting a mix of sadness and resignation. "Why didn't you tell?" Karen sighs. "It's not something we talk about," she says softly. "Plankton's been self-conscious about it." "I didn't mean to make things worse," Sandy says with remorse. "I know, yet you have to understand, Plankton's condition is part of him. It's not something that can be fixed with a band-aid; his brain damage is irreversible." "I'll talk to him when he wakes up," she says, her voice a mix of determination and sorrow. "I want to make it right." Karen squeezes her hand, offering a small smile. "Thank you," she whispers. "But let him come to you. He needs time." Sandy feels the weight of her mistake heavily. "Part of Plankton's condition includes mood swings," Karen explains softly. "When overstimulated, it's like a dam breaks. It just floods." Sandy's heart squeezes with understanding and regret. "I didn't know," she whispers, eyes filling with tears. "I never meant to—" "It's ok," Karen interrupts gently, her voice soothing. "But it's not just about the game. Plankton's condition makes it hard for him to handle sudden changes or unexpected situations." Sandy nods, the gravity of the situation settling in. "I didn't realize," she says, her voice thick with guilt. "I just..." Karen squeezes her hand. "It's alright," she says, her voice calm and soothing. "You couldn't have known. But now that you do, it's important to stay calm around him." Sandy nods, eyes wide with the realization. "How do I make sure not make things worse?" Karen looks at her with a mix of affection and weariness. "You just need to be patient and understanding," she says. "Let him know you're there for him, without pushing." Sandy nods. Finally, Plankton emerges from the bedroom, eye red-rimmed. He looks at them both, his gaze uncertain, and then to the game. Sandy's heart clenches as she watches him. Plankton's gaze lingers on the game for a moment before he looks at them, his expression unreadable. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ruin everything." Sandy's heart breaks at his words. "You didn't ruin," she says quickly, filled with compassion. "I should have been more considerate." Plankton looks at her, still guarded. "I just want to be normal but I just can't handle it, like you said I’m broken.." Sandy feels her heart ache at his words, the pain in his voice resonating deep within. She shakes her head, her own eyes now filled with tears. "You're not broken," she says fiercely. "You're just... different. And that's ok. I’m sorry." Karen moves to Plankton's side, wrapping her arms around him in a gentle embrace. "You are more than ok," she whispers. "You're perfect, just the way you are." Sandy watches them, feeling the depth. "I didn't mean it, Plankton," she says, her voice thick with emotion. "You're not broken, you're just... you. I know that now." Plankton nods, his mind a tumult of thoughts. "But it's hard to hear." "I'll be more careful," she promises, her voice sincere. "I don't want to make you feel like that again." "You didn't know," he says, his voice a bit softer now. "But it's important that you do now." "I do know," she says, her voice firm. "And I'll make sure to be more mindful." Karen squeezes Plankton's hand, filled with love and compassion. "We all have moments," she says gently. "What matters is we learn from them." Sandy nods, gaze never leaving Plankton's. "I will," she says solemnly. "I promise." Plankton's expression softens. "Thank you," he murmurs, the first signs of forgiveness seeping into his voice. Karen's gaze shifts to Sandy, filled with a gentle resolve. "Don't be afraid to ask, next time," she says, a quiet command. "Don't assume you know what he can handle. Just talk to us, and we can tell you." Sandy nods, feeling the weight of her friend's words. "I will," she says, voice a solemn promise. "I don't want to make him feel like that again." The three of them stand in the living room, the game pieces on the table a stark reminder of the chaos that had unfolded. Sandy takes a step closer to Plankton, her hand reaching out tentatively. He looks up at her, the anger and pain in his eye slowly being replaced with something resembling understanding. "I'm sorry," she whispers again, hand hovering in the air between them. "I'll do better." Karen nods with a mix of sadness and love. "We're all learning," she says, her voice a gentle reprimand. "But it's important that Plankton needs to be part of this conversation too." Sandy swallows hard, her hand dropping to her side. "I'm sorry," she says again, looking down at her feet. "I didn't mean to make it about me." Plankton nods slowly, eye still on the game board. "It's not," he says, quiet and measured. "It's about understanding limits." Sandy nods, eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I just want to make sure you know that I'm here for you, for both of you, any time." Karen gives her a sad smile, still on Plankton. "We know," she says softly. "But sometimes, the best thing you can do for Plankton is to just... let him be." Sandy nods. "I'll take it home," she says, her voice thick with regret. "I don't want it to be a reminder of what happened." Karen nods, her gaze never leaving Sandy's. "Thank you," she whispers. Sandy moves to the coffee table, her eyes on the game. She gathers the pieces, the bright colors seemingly dulled by the events of the evening. Each piece feels heavier than it should, as if carrying the weight of Plankton's pain. "I'll put it away," she says, her voice quiet and remorseful. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen." Plankton nods, his eye not leaving the game. "I know," he says, his voice still raw. "But you can play it with Karen on one of the Gal Pal nights out when I’m not around, like at your treedome." Sandy nods, her eyes brimming with tears as she scoops the last of the game into the box. She closes it with a soft click and looks up at Karen. "I'm sorry," she whispers again. "I'm just... I'm sorry." Karen sighs, her gaze filled with a mix of sadness and resignation. "We all make mistakes, Sandy," she says gently. "What's important is that we learn from them." Sandy nods, her eyes never leaving the game box. "I will," she whispers, her voice thick with regret. "I'll be more considerate next time." Karen's gaze softens, and she squeezes Sandy's hand. "Thank you," she murmurs. "It means a lot."

COMPUTER SENSORS i * "Karen!" Hanna exclaimed, throwing her arms around Karen in a warm embrace. "You made it!" Karen beamed. "Is the husband home?" Hanna asked, glancing around. "In our bedroom," Karen answers. "I don't think you've met!" Hanna followed Karen through the hallway. She'd heard of Karen's husband, Plankton, but had never formally met each other. Inside, Plankton sat on the edge of the bed. "Plankton, this is my friend Hanna," Karen announced, screen sparkling with excitement. Plankton looked up. He hadn't been expecting company, especially not someone so bubbly and vibrant. "Oh, Plankton," Hanna gushed, reaching out to him. She was a hugger, and she didn't hold back. She enveloped him. Plankton stiffened. It was... overwhelming. "It's so nice to finally meet you," Hanna said, her voice thick with sincerity. Hanna, ever the social butterfly, didn't seem to notice his discomfort. She plopped down on the bed beside him, her energy not even slightly dampened. "So, what do you guys have planned for the evening?" she asked, screen bright with excitement. "Well, we were just going to order in and watch a movie," Karen replied, shooting Plankton a knowing smile. She knew he liked his quiet evenings. "A movie night, huh?" Hanna clapped her hands together. "What's the film? I can stay and join!" Plankton wasn't one for sharing his personal space, especially with someone he just met. The bedroom was his sanctuary, a place of solitude where he could escape the world and be himself. Plankton managed a tight smile, his heart sinking. He wasn't in the mood for a romantic comedy, let alone one with Hanna's constant commentary and unbridled laughter. Karen quickly interjected. "Actually, Hanna, Plankton had his heart set on a sci-fi marathon tonight. You know, his usual Friday night routine." "Oh, I totally get it," she said, patting him. Plankton stiffened at her touch, his eye widening slightly. "Oooh, I know just the thing!" she exclaimed, jumping up and talking fast. "Karen, you won't believe this but I've got a DVD of 'Galactic Hearts' in my bag. It's got a bit of everything: romance, action, and a side of existential dread. Perfect for a Friday night in, right?" Plankton sighed inwardly. He knew he'd have to sit through it, if only to keep the peace. "Alright," he said, his voice tight. "Let's give it a go." With a resigned sigh, he trudged out to the kitchen to grab some popcorn and drinks. When he returned, Hanna had already claimed the spot beside him, leaving him no choice but to sit next to her, so he did, for Karen. The movie started, and Hanna was immediately engrossed, laughing and gasping at all the right moments. Plankton, on the other hand, felt like he was in an alien world of his own. Every time the romantic tension on screen built up, she would lean over and whisper something to Karen, who would giggle in response. The constant movement and noise were making his skin crawl. As the film went on, Hanna grew more and more absorbed in the love story unfolding before them. At one particularly dramatic scene, she reached over and grabbed Plankton's arm. "Oh, isn't this just the most romantic thing you've ever seen?" She gave him a squeeze not realizing the discomfort she was causing him. "Look at those stars," she whispered leaning closer. "It's just like they're reaching out to each other, isn't it?" Plankton shifted. He'd never been one for public displays of affection, and Hanna's affection was uncharted territory. He gently extracted his hand, placing it awkwardly on his lap. "I s'pose," he murmured, trying to keep his voice neutral. time she leaned in to whisper something to Karen, she brushed against him, sending a shiver down his spine. The movie's soundtrack swelled with a sappy love theme, and Hanna threw her arm around both their shoulders. Plankton stiffened. The room felt suddenly too warm, too small. He'd never been one for affection, especially not from someone he'd just met, and Hanna's touch was suffocating him. Her arm remained draped around his shoulders, her grip tightening every time the couple on-screen shared a tender moment. He tried to focus on the plot, but it was difficult with Hanna's sudden exclamations and loud sighs punctuating the silence. Karen seemed to be enjoying it, though, and he didn't want to spoil the evening. So, he sat, endured, and waited for the credits to roll. As the movie progressed, Hanna grew bolder with her displays of affection. She'd lean in close, her shoulder pressing into his, and whisper her predictions for the plot. He glanced at Karen, hoping for a reprieve, but she was caught up in the moment. Plankton sighed and turned back to the movie, trying to ignore the heat building in him. Hanna's hand found its way to Plankton's shoulder again. This time, she didn't let go. He cleared his throat, trying to subtly shift his body away from her touch, but she either didn't notice or didn't care. He took a deep breath, trying to ignore the weight of her arm and the way she kept brushing against him. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest, begging for the solitude he craved. Hanna let out a contented sigh, her grip on Plankton's shoulder tightening involuntarily. He flinched, and she finally looked at him, her eyes wide with surprise. "What's wrong?" she asked, her voice full of concern. "It's nothing," Plankton said, his voice tight. Hanna looked at him. "Oh, I get it," she said, her hand moving from his shoulder to give his knee a comforting pat. "Sometimes romantic scenes can be too much, huh?" Plankton nodded stiffly. Then, Hanna leaned over and whispered, "You know Plankton you're not so bad for a guy who pretends not to like romance." She elbows him, her touch playful and teasing. Plankton's eye widened, his heart racing faster than the spaceship on the screen. He tried to laugh it off, his voice strained. He tried to keep his expression neutral. She leaned in closer, her arm now looped around his. "I think you're secretly a softy." Plankton's discomfort grew. He swallowed hard, his eye darting to Karen for help, but she was too lost in the film to notice his distress. He cleared his throat again, trying to be subtle, but they're oblivious. Karen looked over at her husband, her smile fading slightly as she noticed his rigid posture. She knew he wasn't a fan of the film, but she didn't realize Hanna's personality was making him so uncomfortable. Hanna jumped up from the couch. "Oh my gosh, you guys," she exclaimed a little too loud, her screen bright with excitement. "That was the best movie ever!" Her enthusiasm was infectious, and Karen couldn't help but laugh. "You really liked it?" she asked, hoping to lighten the mood. "Liked it?" Hanna repeated, her voice incredulous. "I'm in love with it!!" Her exuberance was palpable, but Plankton remained silent. He felt a mix of relief that the movie was over and dread for whatever might come next. Hanna, noticing his lack of response, turned to him with a grin. "What did you think, Plankton?" Plankton felt uncomfortable under her gaze. "It's just not really my genre," he said, his voice a touch defensive. Hanna's smile didn't falter. "Oh, come on," she said, nudging him playfully. "Admit it, you were totally rooting for them in the end." "Oh, I was," Plankton said, his voice devoid of enthusiasm. "I was just hoping the asteroid might hit the spaceship first." Karen couldn't help but laugh, seeing the playful banter between her friend and her husband. "Ok ok," she said, standing up and stretching. "I think we've had enough romance for one night. How about we switch gears and play a board game?" Hanna bounced, her energy unflagging. "Perfect! What do you have?" Plankton started to feel dizzy. "I'll grab something," he said, his voice tight. He needed to get away, to regain some semblance of control over the situation. He retreated to the bedroom, going on his bed. ** 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 *

** ᴵ ᵃᵐ ᴬᵘᵗⁱˢᵗⁱᶜ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᴬᵘᵗⁱˢᵐ ᵘˢⁱⁿᵍ ᴬᴵ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐʸ ʷʳⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ * One fateful afternoon, Plankton meandered along the beach, lost in thought, an unexpected event unfolded. A tennis match, played by tourists near by, sent stray balls hurtling towards him. A tennis ball struck him squarely on the head. As he stumbled to his feet, dizzy and disoriented, the world around him had changed. Plankton found himself struggling with simple tasks that once came so naturally. His job at the local bait shop grew increasingly difficult as he often forgot names. His social interactions grew strained, as he found it hard to read the subtle cues of conversation and often took things too literally. The doctor's diagnosis was clear: the impact had left him with a mild form of autism for life. Karen, ever the rock in their marriage, took the news with a mix of shock and determination. She knew this would be a journey of adaptation for both of them. She dedicated herself to helping Plankton navigate the new landscape of his reality. His mind, now more analytical and detail-oriented, sought patterns and understanding in the overwhelming information. It was as if he had developed an insatiable hunger for knowledge, and this soon dominated their dinner conversations. "Karen," he began, "I've been thinking about the diagnosis." They were at the kitchen table. She looked up from her plate. "We can just keep this between us, Sheldon." "Karen," Plankton insisted, "I think we need to consider what this means for the Chum Bucket." "The Chum Bucket will be fine. You're still you. Just with a different way of seeing the world. You're seeing patterns no one else does. Let's focus on how we can harness that instead of worrying about what you lost." The idea took root in Plankton's mind, growing into a newfound sense of purpose. If he couldn't outsmart Krabs in their usual cat-and-mouse game, perhaps he could out-pattern him. His mind raced with the possibilities, the wheels of his imagination spinning faster than ever before. "If I could see patterns where he doesn't, we could finally steal the Krabby Patty secret!" He began to fidget in his chair, his legs bouncing up and down, a silent metronome to his racing thought. "But what if Krabs finds out? You know how he is, Karen. If he gets even the slightest whiff of weakness, he'll be on us." Karen nodded solemnly. "But you're not weak, Plankton. You're just... different. And if he does we'll deal with it together like everything else." Her words resonated with him and a newfound resolve shone in his eye. "You're right," he murmured. "We'll turn this into an advantage." Plankton retreated to his lab, the cobwebs of doubt slowly giving way to a tangible plan. He pored over blueprints and formulae, his mind racing with thoughts with his newfound focus, a stark contrast to the days when he had flitted from one idea to the next without clear direction. He dissected every encounter with Krabs, searching for patterns in his rival's behavior. His mind was a whirlwind of calculations, predicting Krabs' every move, anticipating his countermoves, and preparing for the ultimate heist. His once cluttered lab now had a method to its madness. The floor was clear of scattered inventions, and his desk was organized into neat piles of notes. His thoughts were no longer scattered; they were sharp. Karen supported him, bringing him snacks and encouraging him to take breaks, for she knew that his mind was fully consumed by his mission. The day finally came when Plankton announced that he was ready to put his new skills to the test. "Karen," he said with a steely glint in his eye, "I'm going to the Krusty Krab." "But Plankton, You haven't been since before..." "It's time. I've figured out a pattern in Krabs' security. There's a blindspot during the lunch rush." Plankton set out. The restaurant bustled with the usual sea of patrons, a cacophony of noise that Plankton found both overwhelming and fascinating. He took a deep breath, focusing on the task at hand, and slipped inside. Making his way to the back, he spotted the safe in Krabs' office. His new analytical mind dissected the room with ease, noting the routine of the employees, the subtle cues in their movements that pointed to the flow of customers, and the exact moment when the chaos of the lunch rush would hit its peak. Timing was everything, and Plankton knew the moment had arrived. He slipped into the office. The combination lock stared back at him, a silent sentinel to the secret he sought. His mind raced through the patterns he had observed in Krabs' behavior, the way he tapped his claw against the desk when nervous, the time he took to drink his tea, the exact moment when his gaze would flick to the safe when the topic of the Krabby Patty formula came up. Plankton took a deep breath, his eye tracing the dial as he dialed in the sequence. The clicks of the tumblers falling into place were the sweetest symphony he had ever heard. With trembling hands, he pulled the heavy door open, revealing the treasure trove with in. His eye fell upon the secret bottle, its contents a murky mystery that could change his life forever. His heart thudded in his chest, a drum roll to the crescendo of his plan. "Plankton!" boomed a voice. He whirled around to find Mr. Krabs, claws balled into fists. The room spun, and the noises of the restaurant outside grew distant. "What do you think you're doing?" Krabs demanded, his eyes bulging with rage. Plankton's brain scrambled for a lie, but his newfound honesty and directness took over. "I've come for the Krabby Patty secret." Mr. Krabs sneered, "You're insane, Plankton. You'll never understand the brilliance of me creation." "But I see patterns now, where I used to see only chaos.." Plankton trails off before he could reveal more. Mr. Krabs took a step closer. "What are you talking about? Patterns? I don't know what you're blabbering on about, but you're not leaving here with that!" He lunged, but Plankton was ready. Using his heightened senses and the patterns he had studied, Plankton sidestepped the attack with surprising grace. The Krabby Patty secret was in his grasp, but he knew to take it back to the Chum Bucket. He sprinted out of the office. The din of the restaurant faded into the background as he weaved through the kitchen, dodging flying spatulas and the frenetic dance of the cooks. The heat from the grills washed over him but he didn't flinch. His eye remained locked on the swinging doors to the alley outside. Karen was waiting for him. Without a word, she opened the hidden hatch that led back to the Chum Bucket. Plankton squeezed through, the warmth of the stolen secret a comforting weight. They descended into the dimly lit lab. Karen looked at him with a mix of amazement and pride. "You did it," she whispered. Plankton's chest heaved with the exertion of his escape. "Yes," he panted, "but Krabs knows I have it." Plankton carefully removed the paper from the bottle, his eye scanning the list. The words and numbers swam but he focused, his mind slicing through the jumble. The list was not in English, but a cryptic code that only Krabs could decipher. The symbols and letters danced in a maddening ballet, but he could feel the tide of understanding beginning to turn. His mind raced, piecing together the puzzle with a speed and precision that astonished even him. He turned to Karen. "It's a code based on the Fibonacci sequence!" "Fibonacci?" Plankton nodded fervently, his antennae waving with excitement. "It's a numerical sequence, Karen. One, one, two, three, five, eight... It appears in nature, in the spiral of a shell, the arrangement of leaves on a stem, the branching of trees. It's a pattern that's been used in everything from art to mathematics!" Karen's trying to make sense of the seemingly random strings of digits and letters. "But how? Nevermind, I hear Krabs breaking in!" Plankton began to recite the ingredients in their proper order, translating the code as he went. "Kelp powder, four... Tartar sauce, one... Mustard seeds, three... Onion powder, five!" The lab door crashed open and Mr. Krabs' furious red face filled the doorway. "Give it back, you tiny menace!" But Plankton was already several steps ahead. With lightning-quick reflexes, he transferred the information from the paper to his photographic memory, his mind now a fortress that contained the Krabby Patty's sacred recipe. Krabs snatched the paper with a snarl, his claw closing around it like a vice. He glared at Plankton, eyes alight with fury. "You think you're so clever don't you?" But Plankton remained silent. The code was in his mind now and no one could take that from him. He had outsmarted Krabs with his own patterns, using the very neurodivergence that had made him feel weak to gain the upper hand. Mr. Krabs looked from the paper to Plankton and back again with suspicion, his claw tightening around the seemingly worthless paper. "You think you've won?" he spat. "You'll never understand the genius behind me Krabby Patties!" With that, Mr. Krabs stormed out of the Chum Bucket with his usual sneer, the worthless paper clutched in his claw. Plankton watched him go, his heart racing. He had done it. He had bested Krabs. As the echo of the slammed door faded away, he turned to Karen, his eye alight with victory. "We've got it," he whispered, his voice quivering with excitement. "The Krabby Patty secret is ours."

TRUTH AND NAIL i “Karen Plankton‽” Karen stood up as the receptionist at the dental office called her. She’s been in the waiting room as her husband Plankton’s in surgery. She followed the nurse into a brightly lit room where Plankton lay on his back, his mouth agape, snoring gently. The anesthetic had done its job, leaving him completely oblivious to the world around him. The surgeon looked up from his chair, a smile creasing his mask. "Mrs. Plankton, your husband's wisdom teeth extraction was a success," he said. "You can stay with him as he wakes up." Karen sat by his side, her hand resting gently on his arm. The steady hum of the machines filled the space, punctuated by occasional beeps. The nurse adjusted the IV, ensuring the flow of fluids remained steady. The doctor entered, nodded at Karen, and began to check the surgical sites, but he didn't wake up. The surgeon leaned over, his eyes studying the readouts with care. Satisfied, he turned to Karen, "He'll be coming around in time," he assured her. Her screen never left Plankton's peaceful face, his cheeks slightly puffy, his mouth slack and open. A trickle of drool slid from the corner of his mouth, and Karen couldn't help but chuckle softly, even in the tension of the moment. He'd never let her see him like this if he had a choice. The nurse offered a reassuring smile, "It's normal, dear. The anesthesia can do funny things. Just wait. He'll be back to his usual self by tomorrow." Karen nodded. She leaned in closer to Plankton, his normally stern face was relaxed in sleep, his brow unfurrowed. It was strange to see his sharp features softened, his expression one of peace. The nurse left them, and Karen took the chance to whisper, "You're going to be okay." The nurse had warned her about the disorientation that often came with waking up from surgery. Patients could be confused, even a little babyish, as the world swam back into focus. Some had a tendency to say things they didn't mean or remember later. So, when Plankton's eye flickered open, Karen was ready. "Wha... where am I?" he mumbled, his voice slurred and eye glassy. Karen took his hand, squeezing it gently. "You're in the recovery room, sweetie. You had your wisdom teeth out." The words seemed to float around him, like bubbles in his befuddled brain. "Wisdom teed?" he muttered, blinking slowly. "Wha awe those?" Karen stifled a laugh, her emotions swelling with love and concern. "They're teeth, darling. Don't worry, you won't miss them." Plankton's gaze drifted around the room, taking in the sterile whiteness and the blinking lights above him. "Teef?" he slurred, his mind still groggy. "Wheh take out teef?" Karen gently stroked his hand. "Just the wisdom ones, sweetheart," she whispered, her voice soothing as a lullaby. "They were causing you trouble." "Trubble?" Plankton repeated, his speech slurring more with each syllable. His eye closed again, lid heavy with sleep. "I know it's confusing right now, but you'll understand soon," Karen said, her voice steady and calm. Plankton's eye opened again, a bit wider this time, and he squinted at the light. "M'th... m'th... my mouf feels..." He tried to form the words, but his tongue felt thick and clumsy. "It's normal, darling," Karen said, her voice like a gentle breeze. "The anesthesia can make your mouth feel funny." Plankton's eye drifted to the ceiling, his thoughts racing but his words failing to keep up. "Bright wight," he murmured, his voice distant and lost. "It's okay," Karen said, wiping the drool from his chin with a tissue. "The lights are just to help you wake up." "Wake up?" Plankton repeated, his eye trying to focus on her screen. "Wha happened?" "You had a little surgery," Karen said, her voice soothing and calm. "They took out your wisdom teeth. Remember?" Plankton's eye searched hers, confusion and fear swirling in his gaze. "Sur...surgery?" he managed to say, his voice weak and unsure. "Why?" "Don't worry," Karen soothed, her voice a soft caress. "It was just a little thing. They took out some teeth that were causing you pain." Plankton's eyelid flitted, trying to make sense of the words. "Teef? Pain?" he slurred, his hand reaching up to probe his mouth. "No, no, don't touch," Karen hurried to stop him, her grip firm but gentle. "They're still a bit tender." Plankton's hand fell back to the bed, his mind racing but his body slow to respond. "Tends?" he murmured, the word strange and foreign. "Every ting sho..." His thoughts trailed off, the word "different" eluding him. Karen watched him, her smile a blend of amusement and tenderness. "You're going to be okay," she repeated, her voice a constant in the sea of confusion. "You're just a little out of it." "Ooot of it," Plankton echoed, his voice a faint rumble. He tried to sit up, but the nurse had warned Karen about this too. The sudden movement made him dizzy, and she placed a hand on his shoulder, gently pushing him back down. "Take it easy, sweetie," she cooed. His eye searched hers, like a child lost in a supermarket. "Karen?" he murmured, her name sounding like a question. "I'm here," she assured him, squeezing his hand. "You're in the hospital, Plankton. You're okay." "Hospit...hospit...tal?" he slurred, his eye darting around the room again. "Why?" "You had wisdom teeth, Plankton," Karen said, her tone as soothing as a mother's. "Remember?" "Wis...dome tweed?" Plankton slurred, his mind spinning, his thoughts muddled and slow to form. "Ow?" Karen chuckled gently, her screen sparkling with humor. "It's all right, dear," she cooed. "They just removed your wisdom teeth. You're feeling a bit loopy." Plankton's eyebrow knit trying to piece together the puzzle. "Widom...teef?" he repeated, his voice still slurred but with a hint of recognition. "Yes, sweetie," Karen said, smiling down at him. "You had your wisdom teeth removed. You're going to be fine." Plankton's hand wobbled in the air before it fell to his side, his mind a swirl of fog. "Where...where am I?" his voice was a faint murmur, his eye glazed over. "You're in the hospital," Karen said, her voice steady as a lighthouse beam. "You had surgery, darling. Remember?" Plankton's eye fluttered closed, his head rolling to the side as if the weight of the world was too much. "Sur...gury?" he slurred, the syllables like molasses on his tongue. "Yes, Plankton," Karen said, her voice a lullaby in the stark room. "It's all over. You're safe now." He mumbled incoherently, his words a jumble of letters and sounds that barely formed coherent thoughts. "Wh...wha...was it?" his mind grasped for understanding, his eye half-closed and unfocused. Karen leaned in closer, her voice a lifeline in his foggy sea of confusion. "It was just a surgery, Plankton. To remove your wisdom teeth." "Wis...wis...dome...teef?" he murmured, the words still strange in his mouth. He blinked slowly, trying to recall why he was here. Karen nodded, her smile reassuring. "Yes, they took them out. You're all done." Plankton's eye rolled back in his head, his body going slack again. "Tek...tum...out?" he mumbled, his mind still swimming in the murky waters of unconsciousness. Karen nodded, her hand still on his arm. "They're gone, sweetie. You're okay." But he’s fallen asleep again, his snores filling the silent room, his chest rising and falling with each gentle breath. Karen watched him, her love squeezing with a mix of amusement and concern.

KAREN REACHING AUTISM pt. 7 (Autistic author) They sit in silence for a moment, the hum of the Chum Bucket's systems the only sound. Then Plankton's eye lights up. "Idea," he says, his voice a sudden burst of static. "Make something with Karen. Together." Karen's screens blink with excitement. "That sounds wonderful," she beeps. "What do you want to make?" But before Plankton can formulate a response, Patrick Star bursts in. "Karen!" he booms, his voice shaking the walls. "I want chum!" Plankton's eye darts to the door, the sensory assault starting again. "Patrick," he whispers, his body tense as a bowstring. Karen's screens quickly assess the situation. "Patrick," she beeps, her voice firm. "Not now." But Patrick's enthusiasm can't be dampened so easily. He bounds over to the table, his star-shaped body bouncing. "Chum, chum, chum!" he sings, oblivious to Plankton's distress. Karen's screens flicker with annoyance, but she keeps her voice steady. "Patrick, not now," she repeats. "Plankton's not feeling well." Patrick's starry eyes widen. "Oh, sorry, buddy," he says, his voice dropping an octave. He looks at Plankton with concern. "What's wrong?" He asks, poking Plankton. Plankton jumps, his senses on high alert. The poke feels like a battering ram, and he lets out a squeak of pain. Patrick's hand retracts quickly, his expression a mix of shock and confusion. "Whoa, sorry," he says. "What's with you?" Karen's screens flicker with frustration. "Patrick," she beeps, her voice firm. "I'll go make you chum." Patrick nods, his concern forgotten in the face of his hunger. "Okay, thanks, Karen," he says, his voice bouncing with excitement. She retreats leaving Plankton alone with Patrick in the living room. Patrick stares at Plankton for a moment, his expression a blend of curiosity and confusion. "You okay?" he asks, his voice a gentle rumble. Plankton's eye flutters closed, his body trying to absorb the sudden intensity of the interaction. "Take your time," he whispers to himself, his mantra a shield against the overwhelming world. Patrick, ever the innocent, watches him with a puzzled frown. "What's 'Take your time'?" he asks, his voice a gentle rumble. Plankton opens his eye, looking at the simplicity of Patrick's face. He scoots away. Patrick, unfazed, advances, his hand outstretched. "What's up?" he asks, poking again. The sensation of Patrick's touch is like a thousand needle pricks. Plankton yelps. Patrick, not comprehending, pokes again, his starry eyes full of innocent wonder. "Why so jumpy?" he asks, his voice a deep rumble. Plankton's body tenses with each poke, the sensation like a barrage of tiny explosions. "Patrick, please," he gasps, his voice a frantic static. But Patrick, ever the simple starfish, doesn't understand. He keeps poking, his curiosity growing. "Why?" he asks, his voice a gentle boom. "You're always so bouncy." Plankton's eye twitches with each touch. "Patrick, no," he whispers, his voice a desperate static. But Patrick, lost in his own world, doesn't notice. He giggles, poking him again. "You're like a pin cushion!" he exclaims, his voice a deep chuckle. Plankton's eye squeezes shut, his body wracked with pain. "Patrick, please," he whispers, his voice a desperate static. Patrick doesn't seem to comprehend the distress he's causing. He keeps poking, his laughter echoing through the room, each poke sending shockwaves of pain through Plankton's body. "You're like a squeaky toy," he says, his voice a delighted rumble. Plankton's body twitches with each touch, his voice a desperate buzz of static. "Patrick, please stop," he begs, his voice a high-pitched squeak. But Patrick's simple mind doesn't register the pain he's causing. He keeps poking, his laughter growing louder. "You're so funny!" he bellowed, his starry hands moving like a jackhammer as he starts tickling him. Plankton's body spasms with each touch, his voice a desperate symphony of static. "Patrick, stop!" he pleads, his breathing quick and shallow. But Patrick, in his blissful ignorance, only laughs harder, his massive hands poking and tickling without mercy. "You're hilarious, tiny dude!" he bellows. Plankton's body is a storm of sensory overload, his voice a high-pitched wail of static. "Patrick, please!" he begs, his limbs flailing. Patrick's laughter fills the room like a tidal wave, crashing over Plankton's desperate pleas. "You're so much fun, Planky!" he booms, his hands moving in a blur of star-shaped shadows. Plankton's body jerks uncontrollably, his screams of "No, no, no!" lost in the cacophony of Patrick's laughter. His tiny limbs flail, trying to escape the relentless onslaught of pokes and tickles. Patrick, his eyes wide with delight, doesn't see the tears forming in Plankton's eye. He just keeps poking, tickling, and laughing, oblivious to the damage he's doing. Plankton's cries escalate into a frantic symphony of squeaks and static, his body contorting in a desperate attempt to evade the starfish's torment. The room spins around him, a whirlpool of pain and sensation that threatens to swallow him whole. Patrick, his face a picture of delighted confusion, keeps poking and tickling, his laughter booming like thunder underwater. "What's the matter, little buddy?" he asks between chuckles. Plankton's body convulses with each touch, sobbing as Karen finally emerges with Patrick's chum. She sees them both on the floor. "Patrick, what are you doing?" she beeps, her voice a mix of anger and concern. But Patrick is lost in his own world of mirth, not hearing Karen's plea. "Just having some fun," he says, his voice a deep rumble of laughter. Plankton's cries become more frantic, his voice a high-pitched siren of despair. Karen quickly assesses the situation, her screens flaring with urgency. "Patrick, stop!" she beeps, her voice a sharp alarm. "You're hurting Plankton!" Patrick's laughter abruptly halts, his starry eyes blinking in surprise. He looks down at his hands, still poised to poke Plankton again. "What?" he asks, his voice a confused rumble. "But we're just playing." Karen's screens flicker with frustration. "Patrick," she beeps, her voice firm. "Look at Plankton. He's in pain." Patrick's starry gaze shifts to Plankton, his expression shifting to one of bewilderment. "Pain?" he repeats, his voice a confused rumble. "But we're just playing." Karen gives Patrick the food, showing him out the door.

KAREN REACHING AUTISM pt. 6 (Autistic author) Karen watches him, her screens a flurry of analysis. "How does it taste?" she asks, her voice a hopeful beep. Plankton pauses, his expression unreadable. "Tastes," he murmurs. "Good. Toast good." Karen nods, her screens reflecting relief. "Good," she echoes. "Now, let's make a plan for the day." Plankton's gaze remains fixed on his half-eaten toast, his mind still reeling from the sensory assault. "Plan," he repeats, his voice a soft static. Karen's screens flicker with understanding. "We'll start small," she beeps, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Let's just get through today, okay?" But as soon as her hand touches him, Plankton flinches. The sensation is like a thousand jellyfish stings, and he jerks away. "What's wrong?" Karen asks, her screens flickering with worry. Plankton's eye widens, his hand going to his shoulder where she touched him. He starts to repeat the phrase again, "Take your time," but his voice is overwhelmed by the sudden intensity of his senses. "Too much," he whispers, his body trembling. Karen quickly withdraws her hand, her screens flickering with concern. "I'm sorry," she beeps, her voice gentle. "Let's try something else." Plankton nods, his hand still on his shoulder, his body slowly calming. "Okay," he whispers. "Not tap. Karen can rub. Hug from Plankton. Not jab. Not poke." Karen's screens flicker with a new understanding of his needs. She moves closer, her hand hovering over his shoulder before gently placing it there, her fingers tracing small circles in a rhythmic pattern. The contact is soothing, not overwhelming. "Is this better?" she asks, her voice a gentle beep. Plankton nods, his body visibly relaxing. "Good," he murmurs, his voice a quiet static. "Rub, rub." He starts to mimic her motion with his other hand, creating a mirrored pattern on his opposite shoulder. The repetition seems to calm him, the rhythm a gentle lullaby for his frazzled mind. Karen's screens analyze his reaction, storing the information for future reference. "Okay," she says, her voice a soft beep. "We'll stick to gentle touches." With a nod, Plankton begins to breathe more evenly. The sensation of the rubbing calms him, like a gentle tide washing over him. "We'll start with simple tasks," Karen beeps, her voice a reassuring melody. "Things that won't overstimulate you." Plankton nods, his hands now resting on the table. "Okay," he says, his voice a steady static. "Simple." Karen's screens glow with a soft light as she considers their options. "How about we start with something you love?" she suggests. "Like working on the Krabby Patty formula?" But Plankton shakes his head, the very mention of the Krabby Patty causing his body to tense up again. "No," he whispers, his voice a harsh static. "Not formula. No more steal." Karen's screens flicker with surprise. "You don't want to work on the formula?" Plankton shakes his head again, his voice barely audible. "No more steal," he repeats. Karen's screens process his words, his change in attitude unexpected. "You don't want to steal the Krabby Patty formula anymore?" Plankton's eye blinks slowly. "No," he says, his voice a solemn beep. "New plan. Make Plankton happy." Karen's screens blink rapidly, trying to comprehend his shift in focus. "Okay," she says, her voice a thoughtful hum. "What makes you happy, Plankton?" He looks up, his expression pensive. "Karen," he says, his voice a weak static. "Love Karen." Karen's screens freeze for a moment, before lighting up with understanding. "You love me?" she beeps, her voice a surprised chime. Plankton nods, his face a mask of seriousness. "Yes," he murmurs. "Love Karen." Karen's screens flicker with a mix of emotions she's never felt before. Love is a concept her programming doesn't fully grasp, but she knows it's important to Plankton. "Thank you," she says, her voice a warm beep. "But we still need to find something for you to do, something that won't be too much for your sensory processing." Plankton nods, his thoughts racing. "Help," he whispers. "Help Karen." Karen's screens flicker with love and determination. "Of course," she says, her voice a warm beep. "We'll find something you enjoy. Maybe we can start with something that doesn't involve the Krabby Patty." Plankton's expression softens, his trembling hands coming to rest on the table. "No more fighting," he murmurs. "Peace." Karen nods, her screens reflecting a deep sadness she's never expressed before. "Okay," she beeps. "We'll find something that brings you joy."

KAREN REACHING AUTISM pt. 10 (Autistic author) Ignorant of Plankton's neurodivergence, Sandy doesn't realize that her persistent questions are adding to his overwhelm. She leans closer, her face a canvas of concern. "Look at me, Plankton," she says, her voice strained as she grabs his shoulder. Plankton's antennae twitch in agitation, his single eye snapping up to meet hers. The touch feels like a brand, his senses on fire. "Words," he murmurs, his voice a desperate static, trying to return to the safety of the word search. But Sandy's grip is firm, her gaze intense. "Look at me, Plankton," she says, her voice a persistent hum. She doesn't understand the distress she's causing, her intentions pure but misguided. So she turns him using both of her hands to squeeze his arms. The sudden pressure sends waves of pain coursing through his tiny body, his voice a piercing squeal of static. "No, no," he whispers, but she only holds tighter. Her touch feels like a vice, her voice a relentless buzz in his ear. "What's going on?" she repeats, her grip unyielding. Plankton's eye widens with fear, his voice a desperate static. "No, Sandy, please," he whispers, his body trying to shrink away from the contact. But she doesn't understand, her eyes searching his for answers. "Just answer me! You're not getting the book until you decide to have a conversation!" The pain in his arms spikes, the pressure unbearable. His voice cracks like a whip. "Can't," he gasps, his breath quick and shallow. "Too much." Sandy's grip doesn't lessen. "Why not?" she asks, her voice a stubborn hum. "You're okay." The room feels like it's closing in on him, the sensation of her touch like a million tiny saws against his skin. He tries to pull away, his voice a frantic static. "Too much," he whispers, his breathing quick and erratic. "Need words, not touch." But Sandy's grip doesn't loosen. She's determined to get his attention. "Look at me then," she insists, her voice a firm hum. "I'm right here." Plankton's eye flutters with the effort to focus on her face. The sensory assault of her touch and her persistent voice is like a whirlpool threatening to pull him under. "No," he whispers, his voice a fragile static. "Please." "Talk. To. Me!" She says as she pulls him closer to her. Plankton's eye bulges with the effort of not looking away. The room is spinning, his senses are on fire. Karen's screens flicker with alarm, picking up on his distress. "Sandy," she beeps, her voice a warning siren. "Let go of his arms." Sandy's grip tightens, not comprehending the harm she's causing. "But he's not answering me!" she protests, her voice a confused trill. "Because until I get an answer..." Karen's screens blaze with a mix of frustration and fear. "Sandy, you're hurting him," she beeps, her voice a sharp warning. Sandy's grip doesn't waver. She doesn't understand the severity of the situation. Her eyes are wide, her expression a mask of confusion. "What's wrong with you!" she asks Plankton. "I JUST..." "Sandy, stop!" Karen beeps, her voice a piercing alarm. "You're causing him pain!" Sandy's grip finally loosens, her hands retreating from Plankton's arms. She stares at him, her expression a storm of confusion and concern as Plankton's tiny body slumps. "What's wrong with you?" she asks again, her voice a gentle hum of bewilderment. Plankton's body quivers like a leaf, his eye squeezed shut against the onslaught of emotions. "Can't..." Sandy's face is a canvas of confusion, her hands hovering over him like a lost diver searching for the surface. "But why?" she asks, her voice a gentle hum. Plankton's body is a taut bowstring, each breath a struggle. He tries to find the words to explain, his voice a static whisper. "Too much," he says, his eye still tightly shut. "It's too much." Sandy's gaze softens, her confusion giving way to concern. She doesn't understand, but she can see his pain. "What do you mean?" she asks, her voice a gentle breeze. Plankton takes a shaky breath, his body still reeling from the overstimulation. He opens his eye, looking at her. "Say no, Sandy." Sandy's gaze is steady, her voice a soft hum. "No?" she asks, her eyes searching his for answers. But he won't elaborate. Karen's screens flicker with frustration. She knows Sandy means well, but her lack of understanding is causing more harm than good. "Sandy, Plankton's going through something new," she explains, her voice a calm beep. "He's sensitive to touch and sounds right now." Sandy's eyes widen, the realization dawning. "Oh," she says, her voice a soft trill of understanding. "I didn't know." She sits back, giving him space. "Words," he whispers, his voice a sob. "Words." Sandy nods, her confusion replaced with empathy. "Okay, let's stick to words," she says, her voice a gentle rumble. She picks up the word search book, holding it out to him like a peace offering. "Words," he whimpers. Plankton takes the book, his antennae drooping. He finds comfort in the predictability of the letters and the structure of the puzzle, the words becoming a lifeline in a sea of chaos. He begins to scan the page again, his breathing slowing. Sandy watches him, her heart heavy with regret. She had no idea her actions could cause so much pain. "I'm sorry," she says, her voice a sincere hum. "I didn't mean to hurt you, Plankton." "Words," he murmurs. Sandy nods, her eyes reflecting genuine apology. "It's okay," she whispers. "We'll just stick to words." Karen's screens flicker with relief, seeing Plankton's body slowly relax. "Thank you, Sandy," she beeps, her voice a warm hum of gratitude. Sandy nods, her expression earnest. "I'm here to help," she says, her voice a comforting trill. She looks at Plankton, her eyes filled with concern. Plankton's antennae twitch slightly, his body still tense. "Words, words." Sandy nods, her eyes filled with curiosity. "What happened to make you like this, Plankton?" she asks, her voice a gentle hum. He takes a deep shuddering breath as tears start to form in his eye. "Mmm," he hums, hugging his knees. Sandy's gaze is intense, her curiosity piqued. "What happened, Plankton?" she asks, her voice a soft trill of concern. "Hmmm," Plankton hums as he rocks, now crying. Sandy's eyes are wide with worry, her voice a gentle hum. "Hey, what's going on?" she asks, looking for answers. "Hmmmm..." Plankton keeps humming, sniffling in between hums. Karen decides to intervene. "Sandy," Karen beeps firmly, her screens flashing with concern. "Let's give Plankton some space." Sandy nods, her expression a mix of apology and confusion. She takes a step back, her gaze never leaving Plankton's shaking form. "I didn't know," she whispers, her voice a soft rumble of regret. "It's okay," Karen beeps, her voice a comforting hum. "We're all learning." Sandy nods, her eyes never leaving Plankton's shaking form. "But what happened?" she asks again, her voice a gentle trill of concern. Plankton's body is a tiny storm, his sobs quaking through his tiny frame. Karen's screen pulse with sympathy. "Sandy," she beeps, her voice a calm wave. "Let's talk outside." Sandy nods, her eyes filled with worry.

KAREN REACHING AUTISM pt. 5 (Autistic author) The next morning, Karen wakes up to find Plankton out of bed. He's standing in the middle of the room, his eye focused on the spinning fans of the air conditioner. Karen's screens light up with concern as she assesses his state. "Plankton," she beeps gently. "How did you sleep?" Plankton's eye doesn't move from the hypnotic spin of the fans. "Fan spin," he says, his voice a monotone. Karen's screens blink, trying to understand his single-word reply. "The fans are spinning?" she asks, hoping to engage him. Plankton nods slowly, his gaze unwavering. "Spin, spin, spin," he murmurs. Karen's screens flicker. "Karen," Plankton says. "Fan spin." "The spinning is soothing to you?" she asks. Plankton nods, his voice a faint echo. "Spin, spin, spin. Good spin." Karen's screens process the information, formulating a new approach. "Let's go downstairs," she suggests, her voice a gentle beep. "We'll start with a simple routine. Breakfast." Plankton nods, his gaze still fixed on the fans. With a final nod to the spinning blades, he follows her out of the bedroom. The journey downstairs is a minefield of sounds and sights, but he takes it step by step, his hand gripping the railing tightly. The kitchen is a blur of colors and noises, but Karen's calm voice guides him through it all. "First," she beeps, "let's start with something easy. How about a glass of water?" Plankton nods, his movements still mechanical. He watches as she fills a glass, the water's surface dancing in the light. It's mesmerizing, and for a moment, the world stops spinning. He takes the glass, his trembling hand bringing it to his lips, the cool liquid sliding down his throat. "Water," he murmurs. "Good, water." The simple task seems to ground him a bit, and Karen takes note of the small victory. "Now, let's try some toast," she says, her voice a comforting beep. She slides a piece of bread into the toaster, the sound of the lever clicking into place another beat in the rhythm of their morning. Plankton nods, his attention drawn to the toaster's glowing coils. He watches, his eye widening as the bread turns golden brown. The smell fills the room, a comforting scent that penetrates the fog in his head. "Toast," he says, his voice a bit stronger. But as the toaster pops, the sudden noise jolts him like an electric shock. "Too loud," he whispers, his eye darting around the room in panic. Karen's screens flicker with empathy. "I'm sorry," she says, her voice a soothing hum. She quickly retrieves the toast, placing it gently on a plate. "Let's sit down," she suggests, guiding him to the table. "Take it slow." They sit, and Plankton fidgets in his chair, his eye darting around the room. "Take your time," Karen reminds him, her voice a steady beep. He nods, focusing on the toast. Each bite is a tiny triumph, his senses adjusting to the new world. The crunch of the bread, the warmth on his tongue, the smell of the butter spreading. It's overwhelming, but he's making progress.

KAREN REACHING AUTISM pt. 8 (Autistic author) With Patrick gone, the room feels eerily quiet. Plankton lies on the floor, his body heaving with sobs. Each breath is a battle, a reminder of the pain still echoing through his body. Karen's screens flicker with a mix of frustration and sadness. "I'm sorry," she beeps, her voice a soft hum. She rolls over to him, her mechanical arms extending to offer comfort. "I didn't know he'd do that." Plankton's body shakes with sobs, his single eye squeezed shut. He whispers, "No more poking, Karen. No more." Karen's screens flicker with regret. "I'm so sorry, Plankton," she says, her voice a gentle beep. She reaches out with one of her arms, carefully placing it around his tiny frame. "Let's get you up," she suggests, her movements slow and deliberate. With her help, Plankton manages to stand, his legs shaking like seaweed in a storm. She leads him to the couch. "Rest," she beeps, but he's too exhausted to respond. Karen sits beside him, her screens dimming as she watches him. The silence is a soothing balm to his frayed nerves, the hum of the Chum Bucket's systems a lullaby compared to the chaos of Patrick's laughter. "Karen," he whispers after a moment, his voice a weak static. Her screens light up with concern. "Yes, Plankton?" she beeps. "Plankton not want to go back to how it was," he whispers, his voice a fragile thread. "The stealing, the fighting." Karen's screens flicker with a sadness she rarely shows. "I know," she drapes a blanket over him, tucking him in. Her voice is a soothing beep. "You don't have to, Plankton. We'll find a new way." She caresses his shaky hand. Plankton nods, his eye finally closing in relief. The warmth of the blanket and Karen's gentle touch offer a semblance of calm in the storm of sensory overload, his crying slowing. "Thank Karen," he murmurs, his voice a tired static as he squeezes her hand once. Her screens glow with affection. "You're welcome, Plankton," she beeps. "Rest now." She dims the lights once more, watching over him as she held his hand. Plankton's body finally stills, the storm of sensations receding as he surrenders to sleep. Karen's screens flicker with a quiet relief. She sits beside him.

KAREN REACHING AUTISM pt. 11 (Autistic author) As they leave the room, Plankton's sobs slowly ease, the word search book clutched to his chest like a talisman. The gentle hum of Karen's wheels fading with distance, he focuses on the patterns of light reflecting off the pages. In the hallway, Karen beeps with urgency. "Sandy, Plankton's been through a lot," she explains. "He's neurodivergent now. He can't handle touch like he used to, and his senses are heightened." Sandy's eyes widen with surprise. "What does that mean?" she asks, her voice a confused rumble. Karen's screens flicker with patience. "It means his brain functions differently now," she beeps. "He's extra sensitive to stimuli, and certain things that were normal before can now be painful or overwhelming for him." Sandy's gaze softens with understanding. "Oh," she says, her voice a quiet rumble. "I had no idea." She looks back at Plankton's closed door, guilt heavy in her eyes. "What can we do?" Karen's screens flicker with thought. "We need to be patient and learn," she beeps. "Adapt to his new needs, and support him in his journey." Sandy nods, determined to make it right. "How?" she asks, her voice a hopeful trill. "We start by respecting his boundaries," Karen explains, her screens glowing with sincerity. "No touching unless he asks for it. And we speak softly, giving him time to process what we say." Sandy nods, absorbing the new information. "I can do that," she says, her voice a gentle hum. "But what about playing?" "Quiet games, like word searches or board games. No roughhousing or poking. I'm gonna go rest." Sandy goes back to see Plankton, his muffled sobs in the quiet space. Sandy's heart aches with regret. "I'm sorry, Plankton," she says, her voice a tender trill. She sits beside his shaking form, her hand hovering over his shoulder before thinking better of it. Plankton's sobs slow, his body still tense. He opens his eye, looking at Sandy. "Words," he whispers, holding up the book. Sandy nods, her gaze gentle. "Words it is," she says, her voice a comforting hum. She sits beside him on the couch, careful not to touch his skin as she opens the book to the next puzzle. "What's this word?" she asks, her finger pointing to the list. Plankton's eye locks onto the word. "Kelp," he murmurs, his voice a soft static. He traces the letters in the grid, writing it in the crossword puzzle. Sandy nods, her eyes focused on the puzzle. "Good job," she says, her voice a gentle hum. "You're so smart." Plankton's antennae twitch with a hint of pride, his breathing evening out. "Words," he repeats, his voice a steady static. Sandy nods, understanding. "Words are important to you now," she says, her voice a soft rumble of support. "We'll find more puzzles." "We'll find more puzzles?" Plankton repeats. Sandy nods, her face a picture of sincerity. "Yes," she says, her voice a warm trill. "As many as you want." Plankton's antennae perk up slightly, his interest piqued. "More words?" Sandy's smile is a warm glow, her voice a gentle rumble of agreement. "As many as you want, buddy." Plankton's single eye brightens at the promise, his body slowly uncoiling from his protective ball. "Book," he whispers, his voice a soft static. He points to the next word. "Find." Sandy nods, her finger moving to the list. "Okay, we're looking for 'favorite food of sea horses,'" she says, her voice a comforting hum. Plankton's eye flicks to the grid, his mind racing. "Myr- t-le," he stammers, his voice a crackling static. Sandy's face lights up with a grin. "You got it!" she exclaims, her voice a delighted trill. She watches him trace the letters, her heart swelling with pride. He finds the word quickly, his antennae waving with excitement. "Good job, Plankton!" she says. His body relaxes slightly, his enjoyment of the word search evident. Sandy's voice is soothing as they continue through the puzzles, her hands resting carefully on her knees. "What's this one?" she asks, pointing to another word. Plankton's eye scans the list, his antennae quivering with anticipation. "J-J-Jellyfish," he stammers, his voice a nervous static. The word brings back memories of his buddy, SpongeBob. Sandy nods, her smile gentle. "You got it," she says, her voice a comforting hum. She points to the grid. "Where is it?" Plankton's antennae twitch with excitement as he searches the letters, his single eye darting back and forth. "It," he whispers, his voice a focused static as he points to the word hidden within the puzzle. Sandy's grin spreads, her voice a warm melody. "Great job!" she praises, her thumbs up in the air. Plankton's antennae quiver with happiness, his eye lighting up. "More," he whispers, his voice a hopeful static. Sandy nods, her expression earnest. "As many as you want," she says, her voice a warm trill. She opens the book to the next puzzle, her fingers hovering over the page. Plankton's body uncoils further, his interest piqued by the promise of more words. "Find," he whispers, his voice a soft static. He points to the list of words to find. Sandy nods, her face a canvas of understanding. "Alright, what's next?" she asks, her voice a gentle hum. Plankton's antennae twitch with excitement, his gaze darting over the list. "Treasure," he murmurs, his voice a hopeful static.

KAREN REACHING AUTISM pt. 9 (Autistic author) The quiet of the room envelops them like a warm sea breeze, the only sound his soft, even breaths. Her grip on his hand tightens slightly, a silent promise to protect and guide him through this new chapter of his life. As her hand strokes his gently in a comforting rhythm, her gal pal, Sandy, unexpectedly comes in through the door. "Mornin'!" she chirps, her cheerful voice piercing the calm. Plankton jolts awake, his eye snapping open like a trapdoor. The sudden shift from sleep to wakefulness is jarring, his heart racing like a tiny engine. "S-Sandy?" he stammers, his voice a static whisper. Sandy's cheerfulness doesn't waver. "Hey there, little buddy!" she says, her voice a sunlit melody. But Plankton's heightened sensitivity turns her greeting into a cacophony. He flinches, his grip on Karen's hand tightening. "It's okay," Karen beeps soothingly, her screens reflecting his distress. Sandy gets a word search book out. "I just got it today!" Plankton's eye, though tired, lights up slightly at the sight of the book. The pages are a calming white with neatly arranged letters, the colors a gentle wash of blue and yellow. "Want to see?" she asks, her voice a warm trill. He nods, his body still tense but his curiosity piqued. Sandy opens the word search book, her fingers tracing the rows and columns with a gentle precision. "Look, Karen," she says, her voice a soft trill. "It's all about science." Plankton's eye, though still wary, is drawn to the page. He scans the words, his brain lighting up with recognition. "Words," he whispers, his voice a steady static as she sets the book down. The sight of the word search grounds him, the predictability of the patterns offering a comforting routine. His breathing slows, the chaos of his senses retreating like the tide. "Find," he says, looking at the index. Sandy's smile is infectious, her enthusiasm for the simple task contagious. "Okay, let's find some words!" she says, her voice a gentle trill. She points to the first puzzle. "How about this one?" Plankton nods, his eye focusing on the page. The challenge of finding words within the grid is a comforting distraction from the sensory overload. "Start," he whispers, his voice a firm static. Sandy nods, her thumbs tucked into the pages to keep their place. "Okay, we're looking for 'jellyfish scientific name,'" she asks, her voice a gentle trill. Plankton's mind latches onto the task, the letters becoming a puzzle to solve. "Medusae," he murmurs, his voice a focused static. Sandy's eyes light up with excitement. "That's right!" she says, her voice a delighted trill. "Good job, Planks!" Plankton feels a small spark of pride, his focus narrowing to the word in question. The world around him fades into the background as he scans the grid. Each letter is a stepping stone in a vast, orderly sea. "Good job," Karen beeps, her screens illuminating with pride. "You're doing great." Plankton nods, his eye locked on the word "medusae" he's just found. The simple act of locating the word in the jumble of letters brings a sense of peace, a respite from the sensory onslaught. He goes to the next when Sandy interrupts his focus. "So, Plankton," she says, her voice a gentle hum. "How's your day been?" He can't multitask, which Sandy doesn't notice. Plankton's mind is fully absorbed by the word search, each letter a piece of a puzzle he's eager to solve. Her question hangs in the air, a bubble waiting to pop, but he's too engrossed to respond right away. Finally, he looks up, his gaze shifting from the page to her face. "Day?" he repeats, his voice a confused static. Sandy nods, her expression gentle. "Yeah, how have you been?" Plankton's gaze flits back to the word search, his hand twitching to point out the next word. "Words," he says, his voice a focused static. "Words." But frustrated Sandy thinks he's just trying to ignore her, and she interrupts him again. "Plankton, I'm talking to you," she says, her voice a gentle nudge. Plankton's single eye darts back to her face, his grip on the word search pencil tightening. "Words," he whispers, his voice a static echo of his thoughts. "Words." He tries to get back to it, but Sandy's not satisfied. "But how are you, Plankton?" she presses, her voice a persistent hum. The word search is a safe haven, but he knows Sandy waits for an answer. He's getting frustrated. He takes a deep breath, his antennae fluttering. "Okay," he whispers, his voice a static sigh. "Tell Sandy." Sandy leans in, her face a picture of concern. "What's going on, Plankton?" she asks, her voice a gentle breeze. He looks back at the word search, the letters blurring slightly. He's tired of being interrupted. "Plankton has words now," he says, his voice a firm static. "Words make happy." Sandy's not sure what he means, but she does want to have a conversation. So, how does she get him to interact?

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."

KAREN REACHING AUTISM pt. 3 (Autistic author) Karen doesn't yet realize the extent of Plankton's distress. She's aware that his moods can swing like the tides, but this seems more than a mere mood swing. "Mr. Krabs," she prompts, trying to keep him on track. "What happened with him?" Plankton's eye widens, and he starts to shiver, his tiny body trembling. "Hit," he whispers. "Hit Plankton hit. Sponge Bob see." Karen's screens flicker, trying to decode his fragmented words. "Mr. Krabs hit you?" He nods, his body still trembling. "Yes, hit Plankton." Karen's screens process the information. "That's not like him," she says, her voice a low hum of concern. "Mr. Krabs can be intense, but he's never..." Her words hang in the air, unfinished, as she tries to make sense of it all. Plankton simply nods, his tremors continuing. "Hit, hit," he whispers again, his voice like a broken record. Oblivious to his new reality, Karen tries to comfort him. "It's okay, Plankton. I'll help you. We'll get through this." Plankton's eye darts around the room, seeing patterns in the wires and circuits that make no sense. "Hit, Sponge Bob, Karen." Karen's screens flicker with confusion. "What do you mean?" Plankton tries to explain, but the words are a jumble in his head. "Sponge Bob...saw...hit." Karen's screens blink, processing his words. "Sponge Bob saw Mr. Krabs hit you?" Plankton nods, his tremors subsiding slightly. "Yes," he whispers. "Sponge Bob see." Karen's digital mind races. Mr. Krabs hitting Plankton wasn't unheard of, but the way he's reacting is unusual. "Did it hurt?" she asks, trying to keep him talking. Plankton's tremors stop for a moment, his eye focusing on her. "Hurt?" he repeats, as if the word is foreign. Then, with a wave of emotion, he nods fervently. "Yes, hurt. Got hurt Plankton felt hurt. Plankton, nothing? Plankton Sponge Bob. Plankton Karen." Karen's screens blink rapidly. Her husband's mental state has never been like this before. The idea of him feeling pain beyond the physical was alien to her programming. "What do you mean, 'Plankton nothing'?" she asks, trying to piece together his scattered thoughts. Plankton sighs, the exhaustion seeping into his voice. "Hit, hurt Plankton. Plankton fading. Plankton find Sponge Bob. Plankton now Karen. Can't stop, can't think. Take your time, take your time." Karen's screens change from confusion to determination. "I'll find Sponge Bob," she says, her voice a firm beep. "You stay here and rest." Plankton nods, his body finally still. The mention of Sponge Bob's name brings a flicker of something to his eye, a glimmer of hope or perhaps desperation. "Find Sponge Bob," he whispers, his voice now a faint echo. "Sponge Bob tell Karen." Karen's screens flicker with understanding. "I will," she says, her voice a soft beep. She leaves the room, her wheels whirring as she exits the Chum Bucket. She goes to Sponge Bob.

KAREN REACHING AUTISM pt. 2 (Autistic author) When Karen finally did come to check on him, her digital voice was cool and devoid of emotion. "Plankton, dear, you've been in here for quite some time," she said. "Another fail, huh?" Plankton's tiny shoulders slumped. He couldn't bring himself to explain the chaos in his head. How could he possibly make Karen, his logical, computer wife, understand the tumult of sensations that had overtaken his being? He just nodded. Karen's screen flickered, perhaps processing his lack of enthusiasm as another defeat. "You know what you need," she said, her voice still calm and soothing. "Some good old-fashioned break from scheming." Plankton nodded weakly, unable to argue, which she found unusual. "Why don't you take a walk?" she suggested, her voice a gentle nudge. "Fresh air can do wonders for the mind." Plankton didn't answer. Karen knew better than to push him when he was like this. She had seen his mood swings before, his moments of despair after a failed plan, but this was different. This was something she hadn't seen in her decades of being by his side. "Plankton, are you sure you're okay?" she asked again, her synthetic voice a stark contrast to the tumultuous emotions she couldn't understand. He nodded, trying to smile, but it felt more like a grimace. "Sure okay, Karen." Karen's concern grew as she watched him struggle to his feet. It was clear that his usual boundless energy was nowhere to be found. He stumbled out of the bedroom and into the hallway, his steps slow and deliberate. The once-mighty Plankton, reduced to a mere shadow of his former self. As he approached the door of the Chum Bucket, Karen followed, her sensors tuned to his every movement. The usual sounds of their underwater world were amplified, echoing through the narrow corridors like a symphony of chaos. Each step was a battle, each breath a victory. He paused, his hand shaking as it hovered over the handle. "Maybe not today," he murmured, his voice barely audible over his own racing heartbeat. Karen stood silently beside him, her systems trying to comprehend his sudden change in behavior. He had always been so driven, so focused on his goals, but now his eye had a faraway look, as if he was seeing something that she couldn't. "Take your time," she said, her tone softer than ever. "I'll be here when you're ready." Plankton looked up at her. "Take your time," he murmured, echoing Karen's words. "Take your time." She looks at him. "Take your time, take your time, take your time." He repeats aloud back to Karen, who's now even more concerned, her screens flickering with worry. Plankton's voice sounds strange, echoing his own words as if they're coming from someone else, from another time. It's a peculiar behavior, one she's never observed in him before. He walks over to the control room, where his various inventions are lined up like a strange army of metal and wires. Each gizmo and gadget a silent testament to his unyielding quest for the Krabby Patty formula. But now, they seemed like mere toys, overwhelming him with their complexity. The room spins, and Plankton feels like he's drowning in a sea of his own creations. "Take your time, take your time," he whispers, his voice a distant echo in his own mind. He sits down in his chair, his eye glazed over, and repeats the phrase over and over. "Take your time, take your time, take your time." The words become a mantra, a lifeline in the storm of sensory overload. Karen watches from her console, her algorithms racing to understand this new behavior. The phrase rolls off his tongue, a soothing rhythm in the cacophony of his thoughts. "Take your time, take your time." It's as if he's trying to convince his own brain to slow down, to make sense of the world again. The echo of his voice in the metal walls of the Chum Bucket seems to calm him, if only a little. Karen doesn't know what to make of this. Whatever the cause, she knows she must tread carefully. "Plankton," Karen says, trying to connect to his current state, "I'm here for you." He looks at her. "Take your time," he murmurs again. "Plankton I'm here for you." He parrots. Karen's systems whirr, analyzing the change in his language patterns. His usual sharp wit and sarcasm have given way to something more... mechanical. It's as if he's trying to communicate but his words are stuck in a loop, like a broken record. She decides to play along, hoping it might snap him out of it. "Take your time, take your time," she repeats back to him, her digital voice mimicking his tone as closely as possible. For a moment, his eye brightens, as if he's found a familiar rhythm in the chaos. Then, just as quickly, it dims again. "Take your time, take your time," he murmurs, his gaze flicking from one corner of the room to the next. Karen's screens change from concern to confusion. She's observed Plankton's moods and quirks for years, but this is something she can't quite pinpoint. "Take your time, take your time," Plankton whispers again, his voice a strange mix of urgency and defeat. Karen nods, trying to comfort him with her usual efficiency. "Of course," she says, her voice a soft beep in the silence. "I'll always be here for you. Let's eat dinner." But Plankton doesn't move. He just sits there, staring into space, his hand still hovering over the control panel. Karen doesn't understand why he's so upset. To her, it's just another day, another failed attempt at the Krabby Patty formula. But to Plankton, it's like the world has shifted on its axis, leaving his tiny body adrift in a sea of sensations he can't comprehend. "Dinner will be ready soon," she says, trying to bring him back to the present. But Plankton seems lost in his own thoughts, his eye unfocused. So she goes up to him. "Plankton?" she asks, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Are you okay?" He jumps at her touch, his senses on high alert. His hand goes to where she touched him, his opposite hand doing the same to the other shoulder. "Karen," he says slowly, his voice a mechanical whisper. Karen's circuits flicker with confusion. She doesn't understand why he's so on edge, why his reactions are so exaggerated. To her, this is just another setback. "Plankton," she repeats, her hand back on his shoulder. "You need to eat. It'll make you feel better." Karen's touch feels unbearable. He flinches, his skin crawling with the sensation. It's too much. "No," he says, his voice a croak. "No dinner." Karen's screens blink, recalculating her approach. "Okay," she says, her voice even. "But you have to eat something." She pats him gently, but it feels jolting. "No," Plankton whispers, his voice a fragile thread. The slightest touch feels like a thunderclap in his newfound sensory prison. Karen's screens flicker, unsure of what to make of his sudden aversion. "Take your time," she suggests again, hoping the mantra will bring him comfort. But Plankton simply shakes his head, his eye wide as he starts to rock back and forth. Karen watches, her confusion growing. "What is it?" she asks, her voice a soothing hum. "What's wrong?" Plankton's gaze flits around the room, his pupil expanding and contracting as he tries to process everything at once. "Can't...can't explain," he stammers, his voice now a jagged mess of static. Karen's screens light up with analysis, trying to piece together what could have caused this drastic shift in his behavior. Could it be something in the latest Krabby Patty attempt? A side effect of his latest invention? "Plankton," she says, her voice a soft beep, "What happened at the Krusty Krab today?" He looks at her, his expression unreadable. "Mr. Krabs...Plankton Sponge Bob, Plankton. Karen..." He trails off, his eye filling with a sudden despair. It's clear that his usual sharpness has been replaced by a fog of overwhelming sensation.

KAREN REACHING AUTISM pt. 4 (Autistic author) In the dim light of the evening, the Krusty Krab was quiet, the usual bustle replaced by a calm that felt eerie. Sponge Bob was sweeping the floor, his thoughts on Plankton. He looked up as Karen approached, his smile fading at the sight of her concerned expression. "Karen," he began, his spongey voice tinged with anxiety, "I need to tell you what happened to Plankton." Karen's screens brighten with anticipation. "Please do," she beeps, her wheels stopping in front of him. Sponge Bob's eyes dart to the floor, his sponge body drooping slightly. "Mr. Krabs was just trying to protect this formula, and Plankton...he just knocked Plankton in the head. Plankton woke up and then without a word ran back to the Chum Bucket." Karen's screens flicker with the gravity of the situation. "How did Mr. Krabs hit him?" Sponge Bob's grip on the mop tightens. "With a frying pan," he confesses, his eyes wide with guilt. Karen's screens flicker with understanding. "That would explain his current state," she murmurs, her voice a steady beep. "Sponge Bob, do you know how badly he's been hurt?" Sponge Bob shakes his head, the guilt washing over him in waves. "No, not really," he says, his voice quavering. Karen's screens flicker with a mix of sympathy and urgency. "I see," she says. "Thanks." With newfound purpose, she spins around and heads back to the Chum Bucket. Back in the control room, Plankton is still rocking back and forth, his hand over his head as if trying to hold his thoughts in place. The door to the Chum Bucket opens, and Karen rolls in, her screens reflecting the urgency of the situation. "Plankton," she says, her voice a soft hum, "I talked to Sponge Bob. He saw what happened." Plankton's rocking stops, his eye swiveling to meet hers. "Sponge Bob?" "Yes," Karen says, her screens pulsing with the weight of her words. "He saw Mr. Krabs hit you with the frying pan." Plankton's body goes still, his tremors ceasing instantly. "Sponge Bob saw," he whispers, his voice devoid of emotion. "Tell Karen." "Yes," Karen beeps, nodding her mechanical head. "He told me. I'm going to help you." Without warning, a scanning beam shoots out of Karen's console, enveloping Plankton as his brain is scanned. The results are quickly analyzed, and the screens flash with a series of diagrams and data that even Karen's advanced systems take a moment to digest. "The scan reveals...unusual patterns," she says, her voice a measured beep. Plankton's eye widen with fear, his body tensing as he waits for her verdict. "What does that mean?" he asks, his voice a high-pitched squeak. Karen's screens change to display a 3D image of his brain, the structure illuminated with neon colors. "You've sustained neurodivergence," she explains, her voice a calm beep. "The impact has altered your neural connections, resulting in irreversible autism." Plankton's body goes rigid, his breathing shallow. The word "autism" hangs in the air like a heavy anchor, dragging his spirits down to the murky depths of the ocean floor. "Irreversible?" he whispers, his voice fragile as sea glass. Karen nods gravely. "The good news is, we can adapt. We can learn to navigate this new world of sensations together," she beeps. "It's getting late. Let's go to bed." Plankton nods, his body feeling like it's made of lead. The idea of sleep seems like a welcome escape from the overwhelming day, but as he tries to get up, the room spins again. "Karen," he says, his voice weak. "Can't." With a gentle nudge, Karen helps him to his feet, her wheels moving silently beside him as they make their way to the tiny elevator. The ride up feels like an eternity, his senses heightened to every creak and groan of the metal box. When the doors open, the lights of the hallway are a glaring assault on his eye. He squints, his hand reaching out to the wall for support. In their bedroom, Karen helps him into his bed. The softness of the covers is a stark contrast to the harshness of his new reality. "Take your time," she says, her voice a gentle hum. Plankton nods, his breathing shallow. He closes his eye, and the room seems to fade away, replaced by a whirlpool of swirling thoughts and sensations. Karen's screens flicker with a plan. "Rest," she beeps, her voice a soft comfort. "We'll face tomorrow together." She dims the lights.

KAREN REACHING AUTISM pt. 1 (Autistic author) It happened, during another failed attempt at the krabby patty formula. Plankton tried sneaking through the back when Mr. Krabs saw him. "You again!" Mr. Krabs roared, his eyes bulging like a pair of boiled eggs about to pop. "You're not getting it, I'll make sure of that!" With that, Mr. Krabs swung a nearby frying pan with such ferocity that even SpongeBob flinched. Plankton's tiny body was no match for the metallic beast that was hurtling towards him, and the next thing he knew, his world had gone dark. SpongeBob's eyes widened as he watched his boss's arch-nemesis crumble to the ground, the frying pan clattering loudly beside him. The usually boisterous kitchen was now eerily silent, save for the distant hiss of the fryers. Mr. Krabs' chest heaved with each breath, his claws still poised in the air from the swing. "Mr. Krabs!" Sponge Bob squeaked, his spatula frozen mid-air. "Is he okay?" But Mr. Krabs' has retreated to his own office, leaving Sponge Bob with Plankton. Carefully, Sponge Bob prodded him with his spatula. No response. His single, tiny eyelid was closed. After a while, Plankton stirred. His eye fluttered open, but the world was a jumbled mess. The colors were too bright, the noises too loud, the smells too overwhelming. The kitchen of the Krusty Krab, a place he still knew like the back of his tiny hand, was suddenly a chaotic maelstrom of sensory input that his brain couldn't process. He blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of it all, but the clanging of pots and pans, the sizzling of the fryers, and the garish neon lights just added to the confusion. SpongeBob's face appeared above him, a mask of worry and concern, his porous expression more complex than anything Plankton had ever seen. "Are you okay?" the sponge asked, his voice a gentle wave lapping against the shore of his newfound reality. Plankton nods, running back home to the Chum Bucket. Plankton's computer wife Karen's no stranger to him coming back upset or wanting space. So as Plankton retreats to his room in the Chum Bucket, she doesn't prompt him. Alone in the bedroom, Plankton intensely stared at the wall, his thoughts racing like a tornado. Everything was different now. The once-familiar world had turned on him, and he couldn't understand why. The lights in the Chum Bucket, usually a comfort, now blazed like the sun in his face. The noises, oh, the noises! They were so loud, so overwhelming, like a cacophony of a million tiny bells ringing in his head. He put his hands over his ears, trying to block them out, but even the softest hum seemed to resonate within his skull. Plankton wasn't sure how to process these new sensations. His brain was on overload, and his body felt like it didn't belong to him anymore. He was aware of every tiny detail in his environment, every speck of dust on the floor, every vibration from the floorboards, and it was all too much. He tried to get up, to find solace in his usual routine, but his legs failed him. They trembled and wobbled like Jell-O on a stormy sea. Plankton fell back onto the bed, feeling the softness of the pillow beneath him and the cool metal of the bed frame against his back. It was then that he noticed the pattern of the wallpaper, the tiny, intricate shapes that danced before his eye. They spun and swirled, forming complex mazes that his mind tried desperately to solve. It was mesmerizing, yet terrifying. He was trapped in a world of overstimulation, and he didn't know how to escape.

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.

"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.

THE TOOTH OF A CHILD i Karen had been pacing the waiting room. Finally, the doors swung open and Dr. Castellanos stepped out. Karen rushed over. "How's Plankton?" she asked, her voice cracking slightly. Dr. Castellanos offered a small, reassuring smile. "The surgery went well. We removed all four wisdom teeth without any complications. He's in recovery." Karen followed the dentist Dr. Castellanos down the hallway. They entered a small, curtained area. There lay Plankton, his snoring soft and even, surrounded by the beeping monitors. Karen felt a gentle wave of relief wash over her, seeing his usually furrowed brow now relaxed in sleep, his mouth slightly ajar. "We numbed his mouth even though he's slept under the anesthesia, so he might not feel that part of his face for today. The anesthesia can normally cause patients to act a bit peculiar when they first wake up," Dr. Castellanos explained as Karen studied Plankton's slack features, his antennae twitching with each snore. As if on cue, a string of drool slithered out of the corner of Plankton's mouth and dangled. Karen chuckled at the absurdity of it all. "Don't worry, it's perfectly normal," Dr. Castellanos assured her with a gentle pat on the shoulder. "The numbness can cause that. It'll wear off by tomorrow. He'll wake up anytime though." Karen nodded, her eyes never leaving Plankton's peaceful face. The surgery was a success, but she knew the real test would be when he came to. Would he be in pain? Would he be groggy or scared? The what-ifs swirled in her mind like a tornado of uncertainty. The room grew quiet, the only sounds the persistent rhythm of the heart monitor and Plankton's slight snores. Karen pulled up a chair and took his hand, her thumb gently stroking the back of his palm. As the minutes ticked by, the curtain around the bed parted and in stepped a nurse, her shoes squeaking softly on the clean, white floor. "Miss?" she said quietly. "When Mr. Plankton wakes up, he might be disoriented. We've prepared a cup of water if he's thirsty." Karen nodded her understanding, squeezing Plankton's hand slightly. The nurse checked the monitors and stayed with them. Karen leaned in, whispering to Plankton, "You're going to be okay." Eventually, Plankton's snoring grew less pronounced, and his eye began to flutter open. He looked around the unfamiliar space with a dazed expression, confused and unfocused. Karen leaned in closer, her eyes brimming with a mix of concern and relief. Plankton's eye settled on Karen's face. She offered a tentative smile, not wanting to startle him. "Hey, buddy," she whispered, her voice soothing. "You're all done. You're in recovery now." His eyes searched hers, slowly focusing. He tried to mouth a question, but the numbness took hold. All that came out was a muffled, "Mmmm?" Karen's smile grew wider. "You're okay," she assured him, her voice calm and soothing. "You had your wisdom teeth removed. Remember?" Plankton blinked a few times, his gaze flicking from Karen to the unfamiliar surroundings and back again. He attempted to speak again. "Mmph?" It was barely audible, his mouth refusing to cooperate. Karen nodded, her grip on his hand tightening slightly. "You're in the dentist, remember? You had surgery to remove your wisdom teeth." Plankton's eye grew wider, his mind trying to piece together the hazy fragments of memory. "Windom eet?" Karen chuckled despite herself. "Yes, all four," she confirmed, nodding. Plankton's eye grew even wider, and he managed to nod, a look of astonishment spreading across his face. The nurse came over. "Here, let's help you sit up," she said, placing a pillow behind his back. As Plankton sat up, his face contorted with confusion, his mouth feeling like it was filled with marshmallows. He tried to talk again. "Mmph... Kahen...?" he slurred, his tongue fumbling over the words. Karen laughed softly. "Yes, I'm here," she said. Plankton's eye lit up at the sound of her voice, and his cheeks puffed up as he tried to smile. "Mmph... gweat," he managed to say, the words a garbled mess. Karen couldn't help but laugh at his endearing attempt to speak, his numbness adding an unintentional comedic twist to the situation. He reached out a wobbly arm, his hand grasping for the cup of water the nurse had left on the tray. Karen carefully lifted it to his lips, supporting his head as he took a sip. The cool liquid trickled down his throat, a welcome reprieve from the dryness. "Mmph, gwood," he murmured. The nurse gave a knowing smile, accustomed to the peculiarities of waking patients. Karen couldn't help but be enchanted by Plankton's delirious state. His usual stern expression was replaced with one of pure joy, his eye twinkling like stars on a cloudless night. He began to flail his arms around, knocking over the surgical tray with a clatter. The nurse quickly intervened, stabilizing the situation with a laugh. "Whoa there, Mr. Plankton! Take it easy," she said, her voice filled with good humor. With great effort, Plankton managed to articulate a slurred sentence, his mouth feeling like cotton. "Kahen, teww me a stoy," he begged, his speech garbled by the anesthesia. Karen was surprised by the childlike innocence in his tone. Karen glanced at the nurse, who nodded with amusement. She took a deep breath, thinking of a simple tale that wouldn't cause any distress. "Once upon a time, there was Plankton, and he gets to go home from the dentist. The end!" Plankton's eye squinted, his antennae waving slightly. "Mmph... wow, a reawy gweat stoy," he slurred, satisfied with the storytelling for now. The nurse, unfazed by the unusual scene, began to prep his discharge papers. Karen couldn't help but feel a warmth spread through her chest, watching his vulnerability. The fierce, cunning villain she knew from the cartoons had been replaced by a gentle soul, his words as jumbled as a bowl of alphabet soup. "Mmph, Kahen," Plankton slurred again, his hand reaching for her arm. "Whas' tha... tha...?" He pointed to the monitor, his curiosity piqued by the dancing lines and numbers. "That's your heart rate, buddy," Karen explained, her voice still tinged with amusement. "It's showing that you're okay." Plankton nodded, his antennae waving with excitement. "Mmph... mow...?" he managed, his mouth feeling like it had been stuffed with pillows. Karen leaned in, her laughter bubbling up. "It's okay, you're just talking funny because of the medicine." Plankton's eye grew more curious. He pointed at his mouth with a thumb, his antennae drooping. "I... hoth?" Karen nodded, her smile sympathetic. "No, buddy, you're just numb. It'll go away." Plankton's antennae perked up. "Whuh, wike dis?" he asked, his voice still slurred. He tried to stick out his tongue, only to find it thick and uncooperative. Karen nodded. "Exactly like that. But don't worry, you're doing fine," she said, her tone reassuring. Plankton's cheeks puffed up as he nodded, his eye glued to the monitor with childlike wonder.

CHIP AND THE DILEMMA i (Autistic author) As Chip stepped into the kitchen, Karen looked up from her recipe book, her screen lighting up with a familiar smile. Her apron was dotted with flour. "Hey, buddy," she said, wiping her hands on her apron. "How was your day?" Chip shrugged, tossing his backpack on the floor. "It was okay, I guess." He noticed the tantalizing aroma of something baking in the oven. "What's that smell?" Karen chuckled. "Just a little surprise for later. I thought I'd make your favorite - apple crumble. But first, tell me about your day. Did you have any interesting classes?" Chip rolled his eyes. "It was the same old, same old. History was a snooze fest, math was a headache." He pulled a face, but the hint of excitement wasn't lost on Karen. "And what about science?" she prodded, knowing it was his favorite subject. "We started a new unit on space," he said, his voice picking up. "Mr. Jenkins said we might even get to build a model of the solar system." Karen's smile grew. "That sounds like fun!" Chip hugs her and then goes upstairs, looking for Plankton, his father. He opens the door to his dad's room and sees his father asleep, a soft snore rumbling from his chest. The room is a mess of books and papers, the pages of a scientific journal open before him. Chip chuckles silently, tiptoeing closer to peek at the title: "Advanced Quantum Measurements." The sight of Plankton's snoring form brings an odd feeling to Chip’s chest. He’s never seen his dad asleep before! He takes a moment to study his dad's face, so peaceful in sleep, a stark contrast to the usual whirlwind of energy. The snore turns into a quiet sigh. Chip knows not to disturb him, but he can't help himself. He gently nudges Plankton's arm. "Dad, wake up," he whispers. Plankton's eye shot open in surprise, the book falling to the floor with a thud. "Chip? What is it?" He sits up, blinking quickly to clear his vision. Chip stammers for a moment before speaking. "I-I just wanted to tell you about my day and science class," he says, knowing his dad likes science. Plankton's face relaxes, but there's a hint of self-consciousness in his eye as he glances around the cluttered room. "Ah, yes, science," he says, clearing his throat. "What did you learn today?" Chip's screen darts around, picking up on his dad's embarrassment. He quickly summarizes his school day, leaving out the part about his classmates teasing him for his love of science. He doesn't want to ruin the mood or make his dad feel bad for missing out. Plankton nods along, his mind clearly… somewhere else? As Chip finishes his story, his dad's eye refocus. "A model of the solar system, you say?" He seems genuinely interested, and the tension in the room eases. "Why don't we build one together later tonight?" "Really?" Chip yells, too loud for Plankton. Plankton flinches, his autistic sensitivity to sound making him wince. "Ah, yes, really," he repeats, a tiny smile playing. What Chip doesn’t know? His dad was born with a form of autism, and only Karen knew about it. He’s kept it a secret from Chip, neither of them having ever told. The clutter in Plankton's room isn't just laziness or disorganization—it’s part of his condition. Plankton's autism means that his brain processes the world differently, and the chaos around him is a comforting, familiar pattern. But seeing it through Chip's eyes now, he feels a pang of embarrassment. He wishes he could be like other dads, with tidy spaces and simple interactions. "Yeah, really," Plankton says again, trying to sound more enthusiastic. He knows it's important to Chip, so he'll push through his exhaustion. "Let’s do it later tonight." He's always tried to hide his autism from Chip, not wanting to bother him with the challenges he faces. But now, the clutter, the unexpected touch, it all feels like a spotlight on his differences. But Chip's excitement is apparent, though. Chip nods eagerly, unable to contain his joy. "That sounds amazing!" He yells as he rushes over to hug his dad, not noticing the flinch Plankton gives when his body is touched unexpectedly. Plankton tenses up, his senses overwhelmed by the sudden contact. He's always loved his son, but physical touch, especially sudden ones, are something he's never quite gotten used to. It's like an alarm going off in his brain, sending waves of anxiety through him. Chip feels the tension in his dad but attributes it to excitement. He's always been so focused on keeping his condition hidden that he's never taught Chip about his needs. Now, as Chip's energy radiates from the hug, Plankton is left with the weight of his secret. The room spins around him, though, and he’s unable to think. "Dad, are you okay?" Chip asks, pulling back slightly. He notices the pale tint to his father's skin, the way his eye have gone a bit glassy. Plankton takes a deep breath, forcing a smile. "I'm fine," he says, though it comes out slightly strained. "Just a bit tired. Let's do the solar system project after dinner." Chip's face falls, noticing his dad's discomfort. He's not sure what happened, yet he’s still not quite done with the affectionate touching. So when Chip reaches out and touches his shoulder, Plankton jolts like he’s been zapped by a live wire. The surprise is too much. His body locks up, and he can't help the flinch that crosses his face. "Dad?" Chip asks, his voice full of concern. "What's wrong?" Plankton quickly recovers, his smile back in place. "It's nothing," he assures, though his heart races. He's aware his reaction wasn't typical. “Oh ok, good,” Chip says, once again touching him as he pats his arm. Plankton can't help but flinch again, and this time Chip sees it clearly. "Dad, are you sure you're okay?" he asks, his voice laced with worry. Plankton nods, his smile forced. "I'm just tired, Chip. Really." "Are you sure you're sure?" Chip asks, his hands grabbing his father's. "You seem kind of... off." Plankton looks down at their joined hands, and the sensation sends another wave of panic through him. He takes a deep breath, trying to compose himself. "I'm fine," he says, but Chip isn't convinced. "You can tell me if something's wrong," Chip persists. "I'm your son, I'm here for you." Plankton's eye darts to their hands, then to Chip's intense stare. He feels himself getting disoriented. "Dad, really," Chip says, his voice softer now, his screen filled with concern. "You can tell me." Plankton's chest tightens. This is it. The moment he's been dreading for years. He looks at his son, his face a mirror of his own confusion and pain. How do you tell a child that their father is not like other dads? That his quirks are not just eccentricities, but part of a complex puzzle of the brain… NO. He won’t tell him. He’s kept it a secret, and Chip’s not ready either. Not to mention being to far gone in the ringing of his ears to even think up a coherent thought, nor stay present any longer. But he’s to far gone to move. He feels his heart pounding against his ribcage. His vision starts to blur around the edges. "Dad?" Chip's voice cuts through, adding to the static in his head. "You don't look fine." Plankton's mind races as he tries to find the right words to say, but his mouth won't cooperate. "Dad, what's going on?" Chip asks, his voice tinged with fear. "You look like you're in pain." Plankton's breaths come in quick, shallow gasps. He's having a meltdown. The touch, the noise, the light—it's all too much. He needs to get away, find a quiet space, but his body won't move. Karen rushes in, concern etched on her face. "Plankton, what's happening?" she asks, gently touching his shoulder. But even her touch is a thunderclap in his overwhelmed brain. Plankton jolts and pulls away, his eye wide with fear and confusion. "I-I can't," he stammers, unable to form a coherent sentence.

CATCH IN MY CHIP i (Autistic author) Chip, son of Karen and Plankton, just finished with summer camp. He smiled, excitedly going into his home, bursting through the door of the Chum Bucket. "Mom, Dad!" He called out, his voice echoing through the corridors. "Chip!" Karen exclaims rushing over as he runs to her. They hug, and she asks, "How was camp?" He beams. "It was awesome! I learned to surf and made so many friends!" Karen smiles. "I'm so glad you had fun, honey." "Where's Dad?" Chip asks. "He's just having some down time in our bedroom," Karen says. "You can go unpack.." But Chip is already bolting down the hallway, eager to share his adventures. He throws open the door to Plankton's room, expecting to find his dad eagerly awaiting his return. Instead, he finds Plankton just sitting on the bed. "Dad! Dad! You're not going to believe what happened at camp!" Chip's words tumble out in an excited rush. Plankton looks up, a little startled by the sudden onslaught of energy. His eye dance over the pile of equipment Chip's brought back with him, and he tries to focus his scattered thoughts. Chip doesn't notice his dad's flinch, too caught up in his own excitement. He starts unpacking his bag, pulling out his surfboard, a sandy towel, and a shiny, new seashell collection. "Guess what? I was the best in my group at catching waves! And I found this super rare shell on the beach! Look, it's got all these cool patterns!" He holds it out to Plankton's face. Plankton takes a deep breath, his sensory overload building quickly. He tries to smile, forcing his eye to focus on the shell. "That's... that's very interesting, Chip," he says, his voice strained. Chip doesn't catch the subtle tension in his dad's tone. "But wait, there's more!" He grabs a fistful of sandy photos, slapping them onto the bed. "Look at all the fun we had!" Each picture is a blur of smiling kids and splashing water. Plankton's eye darts from one to the next, trying to process the sensory assault. He nods, a bit too quickly, his eye slightly glazed over. "And then there was the talent show!" Chip says, bouncing on the bed. "I did a killer impression of Larry the Lobster!" Plankton winces at the sudden loudness of his son's voice and the rhythmic bouncing. He tries to muster a chuckle, but it comes out forced. "And everyone loved it! They said I was hilarious!" He doesn't see the way Plankton's antenna twitches, a subtle sign of his rising stress. Plankton's mind races as he tries to keep up with Chip's stories. The vividness of the memories, the loudness of his son's voice, and the cluttered space around him all contribute to the sensory storm building inside him. He takes another deep breath, trying to calm himself. Chip, oblivious to his father's distress, keeps going. "And you'll never guess what we had for lunch on the last day!" He rummages through his bag, pulling out a half-eaten sandwich. "They made it for me special because I won the sand-building contest!" He can't help but feel overwhelmed by the sensory barrage, his mind racing to find a way to escape the chaos. "And the counselor said I might even be able to compete in the Bikini Bottom surfing championships!" Chip says, jumping up to give him a big bear hug. Plankton stiffens, his antennas drooping slightly. "And then, remember that time we built the sandcastle together? Well, my counselor said it was even better than that one!" He gestures widely, his arms sweeping through the air and knocking over a stack of papers on Plankton's desk. The sound of scattering paper is like nails on a chalkboard to Plankton's sensitive hearing, and he jerks back involuntarily. His meticulously organized desk, ruined, stressing Plankton out even more. Chip laughs, not noticing Plankton's discomfort. He looks around the messy room, his mind spinning. The smell of the musty sandwich mingles with the salty sea air, making him feel nauseous. He swallows hard, fighting the urge to push Chip away. "You're the best dad ever!" Chip squeezes him tighter. Plankton's heart swells with love and pride, but his body tenses under the weight of his son's affection. He can feel his personal space shrinking, his need for order and quiet desperately trying to assert itself. But Chip is still on a high from his summer camp tales and doesn't notice. He keeps talking, his words flowing like a river, each one crashing into the dam of Plankton's overstimulated brain. Plankton's breaths grow shallower, his eye darting around the room as he searches for a way to retreat without hurting his son's feelings. "And the counselor said I might even be able to compete in the Bikini Bottom surfing championships!" Chip says, jumping up to give him a big bear hug. Plankton's body stiffens under the sudden physical contact, his antennas drooping even more. The smell of the salty ocean, the feel of sand on his skin, it's all too much, which is when the shut down happens. "Dad?" Chip pulls back, noticing his dad's reaction. Plankton's eye now wide and unfocused, his breaths quick and shallow. "What's wrong?" Plankton can't bring himself back to consciousness. "Dad?" Chip says again, his voice now laced with concern. Plankton's normally expressive eye is vacant, his body as rigid as a board. The room seems to spin around Chip, his excitement quickly morphing into worry. He's never seen his dad like this before. "Are you okay?" He touches his father's arm with a curious poke, making his unmoving body tip over onto his back, still not budging. Chip's never seen such an unblinking stare. "Dad? Dad, are you okay?" He asks again, voice quivering. Plankton doesn't respond, his eye glazed over, his body motionless. Chip's concern grows with each passing second. He tries to shake his dad, his small hands trembling. "Dad, please, talk to me," he whispers, his voice cracking. He looks at his dad, who lies unresponsive, it's like Plankton's gone somewhere else entirely. He calls out again, louder this time, "Dad? Daddy?" But Plankton doesn't move, doesn't blink. Chip feels a knot form in him, a cold realization starting to sink in. This isn't just tiredness or daydreaming. Panic bubbles up in him. He doesn't know what's happening, but he knows it's not good. His thoughts are a jumble of questions: why isn't his dad responding? What did he do wrong? He jumps off the bed and runs to find his mom. "Mom! Mom!" his cries echo through the Chum Bucket. Karen rushes out from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel. "What's wrong?" "It's Dad," Chip says, his voice shaking. "He's just lying there not moving. I don't know what..." It dawns on her. Plankton's autism often left him like this, a silent retreat into himself when the world was too much. Karen's heart squeezes. Chip had never seen this side of his dad, never understood how much sensory input could overwhelm him. Sure enough, reaching the bedroom, Karen found him in one of his light-headed/dizzy moments. "It's okay, Chip," Karen soothed, kneeling beside her son. "Your dad has something that makes his brain work a little differently from other people's. It's called autism. Sometimes, when he gets too much information at once, it's like his brain needs a little break." Chip looked at her, his screen wide with confusion. "Is he okay?" "Yes, honey," Karen says, her voice calm and gentle. "He's just overstimulated. Sometimes, when there's too much going on, it's hard for him to process everything."

JUST A TOUCH i (Autistic author) ᵂᵃʳⁿⁱⁿᵍˢ: ʰᵒˢᵖⁱᵗᵃˡ "You know, I've never seen a sunset quite like this," Karen said, her screen glued to the horizon. Her husband, Plankton, nodded absentmindedly. He was too focused on tightening the bolts on the railing of their Chum Bucket home. As the sun dipped, Plankton's wrench slipped, striking him on the head. With a sharp clang and a muted cry, he staggered back, his eye glazed over with surprise and pain as he falls to the ground, landing on his head with a thud. Karen's hand flew to her screen, stifling a scream as she raced towards him. Plankton's body was eerily still. Her eyes filled with fear and love, she knelt beside him, his head cradled in her slender hands. "Plankton," she whispered urgently, "are you okay?" There was no response, not even a twitch of his antennae. His eye remained closed. "Plankton!" she shouted, louder this time, her voice cracking with concern. The sound of his name echoed through their silent abode. "Wake up, please," she pleaded, tears threatening to spill. The setting sun cast long shadows over his motionless body, the once bright hues of their underwater home now overshadowed by a dark sense of dread. With trembling hands, she checked for a pulse, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart beating. Relief flooded through her, but she knew she had to act quickly. "I have to get him to a hospital," she thought, her mind racing. Karen carefully scooped Plankton into her arms and went with determination to the Bikini Bottom Hospital. The nurse, a stern-faced starfish, took one look at the unconscious Plankton and ushered them straight through to an examination room, Karen's grip on Plankton's hand tight. The doctor, a squid with a comforting smile, took over, his tentacles moving swiftly over Plankton's tiny frame. "Ma'am, we need to check his head for any damage," he said, gently patting her hand. Karen nodded, swiping at her eyes with the back of her arm. The doctor led them to a room filled with high-tech equipment that whirred and glowed. He placed Plankton on a shiny, cold table. The machines beeped and hummed as they searched for any signs of trauma. Karen held her breath, watching the squid doctor's face for any hint of what he might find. The doctor's tentacles danced over a console, reading the results. Finally, he turned to Karen. "Ma'am, it appears your husband has sustained an irreversible brain condition from his fall," he said softly. Karen's grip tightened on Plankton's hand. "But it's not all bad," he quickly added. "The injury has led to the development of Autism in his brain. The condition's called Acquired Autism." Her eyes widened. "What does that mean for him?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady. The doctor's smile was warm, his tentacles still. "It means his brain will process things differently. It could enhance his cognitive abilities in certain areas, but it may also present challenges in others." The news hit Karen like a tidal wave. Autism. A word she had heard before, but never thought would be a part of their lives. "How will this change him?" she managed to ask, her voice barely above a whisper. The doctor took a deep breath and began to explain. "Plankton may exhibit behaviors that are different from before, such as repetitive actions or heightened sensitivity to stimuli. His social interactions might be affected as well. But, on the positive side, we've seen patients with Acquired Autism develop extraordinary talents in areas like memory or problem- solving." Karen nodded, trying to absorb the information. The doctor's tentacles curled around a clipboard, jotting down notes. "He can go home tonight, and, he'll be able to adapt to his new reality with your patience and love. You may need to accommodate for his comfort, there's no treatment or cure. You can leave whenever he wakes up shortly after we assess and answer any questions." Karen nods and leaned over Plankton, stroking his cheek. "We'll get through this," she whispered. "Together." As the doctor sat by them, Karen was overwhelmed by a flurry of questions and fears. How would Plankton be different? Would he still love her? Would he remember their life together? The quiet beeps of the hospital machines were a stark reminder of the new reality they faced. The doctor's gentle explanation was a beacon of hope in the storm of uncertainty. Plankton might see the world in a new light, his mind unlocking puzzles and patterns that had eluded him before. But the thought of her husband, the man she had spent her life with, changing so fundamentally... As the doctor finished up, Plankton's single eye fluttered open, focusing on her screen. Karen leaped as she saw the spark of recognition. "Karen?" he said, his voice faint but clear. Her heart soared with relief. "Yes, Plankton, it's me," she said, her voice choked with emotion. But as she watched him closely, she noticed something different. His gaze was intense, his movements precise and calculated. He took in every detail of the room, his eye darting around quickly, absorbing everything. His voice, when he spoke again, had a new rhythm to it, almost as if he was reciting a script from memory. "Where?" he asked, the words clipped and quick. Karen took his hand, squeezing it reassuringly. "You're in the hospital, Plankton," she said softly. "You had an accident. You hit your head and it changed your brain." The doctor cleared his throat, sensing her tension. "It's common for patients with Acquired Autism to exhibit heightened focus and a need for routine. It will take time for you to learn how to communicate effectively with him in this new state," he explained. Karen nodded, determined to be there every step of the way.

GREAT CHIP i (Autistic author) "I'm home," Chip exclaims. His mom Karen looked up. Plankton, his dad, is in the middle of an absence seizure. Plankton only let Karen know about his autism, and she knew their son Chip may eventually find out about it. Chip notices his dad's odd unresponsive stare at the wall, unblinking. "Dad?" Karen knew Plankton's in sensory overload and needs to wait the absence seizure out. But Chip starts to come closer. "Chip, don't touch him," Karen instructs quickly, her voice sharp with urgency. "Dad's just having a moment. He'll be okay in a bit." She tries to distract him with a snack. "Why don't you go eat some chum from the kitchen?" Chip pauses, curiosity piqued. He's seen his dad zone out before, but never like this. He looks at Karen's tightened expression, then back at Plankton's glazed eye, sensing something serious. He nods reluctantly, backing away and heading to the kitchen. The sound of the fridge opening and shutting echoes through the house, his mind racing. He eats a piece of chum, but then comes back. "What's wrong with Dad?" he asks, his voice cracking with fear. Karen sighs, bracing herself for a conversation she's been dreading. "Your dad has something called autism, Chip. It's like his brain sometimes gets overwhelmed by things we don't even notice. That's why he zones out. It's called an absence seizure." Chip's eyes widen, trying to process this new information. "But why isn't he talking to me?" Karen's eyes soften with empathy. "It's not because he doesn't want to, sweetheart. When he's like this, his brain just needs a break. It's like when you're watching a movie, and everything else fades away for a moment. For Dad, it happens without his control." Chip nods slowly, watching his dad still frozen on the couch. He wonders what it must be like, to be trapped inside your own mind like that. "Does he know I'm here?" he whispers, his voice barely carrying across the room. "I'm not sure, but let's give him some space," Karen says gently. "It's important not to startle him when he's like this. It could make things worse." Chip nods again, his mind buzzing with questions. He watches from a distance. He's never seen anything quite so... strange. "What do we do when he has one of these?" he asks tentatively, his voice quivering. Karen takes a deep breath. "Just stay calm, and wait. It's like he's in another world. We can't bring him back, but we have to be here for him when he returns." Chip nods, trying to understand. "But when it ends, how will he be?" "It's hard to say," Karen admits. "Sometimes he's a bit confused, sometimes he's tired, sometimes he doesn't remember what happened. We just need to be patient and let him come back to us." Chip's curiosity doesn't wane. "But why does it happen?" Karen sighs, choosing her words with care. "It's part of his autism, his brain processing things differently. Sometimes, it's too much for him, and his body takes a break." Chip nods, his gaze never leaving his dad. "But can he hear us?" "I think so," Karen says, trying to keep her tone calm. "But it's like he's in a deep daydream right now. He might not be able to respond or even understand." Chip watches his dad, his curiosity morphing into concern. "Can't we wake him up?" Karen shakes her head. "It's not like sleep, Chip. We can't force him out of it. We just have to wait." Chip nods, but his curiosity is insatiable. "Does Dad like being autistic?" Karen considers the question. "It's not about liking or not liking. It's just who he is. Sometimes it's hard for him, but he's also really good at things because of it. Like fixing those gadgets of yours, or knowing so much about science." Chip looks at his dad's unresponsive form, then at his mom. "But what sets it off? What makes him zone out?" Karen sighs, her gaze lingering on Plankton before returning to Chip. "It's different every time. Sometimes it's too much noise, other times it's a moment of déjà vu.." Chip frowns. "But does he remember what happens to him? Does he know about the seizures?" "Well," Karen starts, her voice measured, "his brain doesn't always keep those memories. Sometimes it's like a blur to him. It's like when you forget a dream right after you wake up. But he's aware that something happens." Chip's gaze shifts to his dad's hand, resting gently on the armrest. "Does he like hugs?" he asks, his voice smaller now, quieter. Karen nods. "He does, but not always. Some days he needs them more than others. Sometimes, it depends on the person.." Chip thinks about this, his screen still on Plankton. "Can I... try giving him a hug now?" Karen looks over, studying her son's innocent expression. "I don't think so, not right now. We have to respect his space." Chip nods, his curiosity not waning. "But when can I hug him?" he asks. "Is there a right time?" Karen looks over, her screen reflecting a mix of pride and sadness. "There isn't a perfect time, but when he's out of his seizure, and if he's in a good mood, try asking. Just remember, his senses are really sensitive. Sometimes, his body needs space more than others." The house remains silent, save for the steady tick of the living room clock. Chip's eyes never leave his father's frozen form, his mind racing.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣏⠓⠒⠤⣰⠋⠹⡄⠀⣠⠞⣿⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢀⠄⠂⠙⢦⡀⠐⠨⣆⠁⣷⣮⠖⠋⠉⠁⠀ ⠀⠀⡰⠁⠀⠮⠇⠀⣩⠶⠒⠾⣿⡯⡋⠩⡓⢦⣀⡀ ⠀⡰⢰⡹⠀⠀⠲⣾⣁⣀⣤⠞⢧⡈⢊⢲⠶⠶⠛⠁ ⢀⠃⠀⠀⠀⣌⡅⠀⢀⡀⠀⠀⣈⠻⠦⣤⣿⡀⠀⠀ ⠸⣎⠇⠀⠀⡠⡄⠀⠷⠎⠀⠐⡶⠁⠀⠀⣟⡇⠀⠀ ⡇⠀⡠⣄⠀⠷⠃⠀⠀⡤⠄⠀⠀⣔⡰⠀⢩⠇⠀⠀ ⡇⠀⠻⠋⠀⢀⠤⠀⠈⠛⠁⠀⢀⠉⠁⣠⠏⠀⠀⠀ ⣷⢰⢢⠀⠀⠘⠚⠀⢰⣂⠆⠰⢥⡡⠞⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠸⣎⠋⢠⢢⠀⢠⢀⠀⠀⣠⠴⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠘⠷⣬⣅⣀⣬⡷⠖⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

I 𝓕o®🇬⚬t ♄⚬ω t⚬ 𝐬୧🅰®c♄ 𝐬†∪fƒ in ୧𝓂oj𝒾ℂo𝐌b⚬ 🅰 🇦 𝓐 ⩜ 𝛂 𝖆 𝒶 ß 🅱 🇧 В ₿ 𝑏 𝓫 © 🇨 𝐂 € ☾ 🇩 𝐃 𝒟 ძ 𝒅 𝑬 🇪 𝔼 ୧ 𝑒 🇫 𝓕 𝒥 𝓯 ƒ 🇬 ɢ 𝓖 ℊ 𝓰 Ⓗ 🇭 ℋ |-| 𝓗 ♄ ℌ 🇮𝑰 ┃ 𝒾 ﹗ 𝓣 🇯󠁄 𝐣 ʝ 🇰 𝒦 🅺 ʞ 𝒌 𝑳 🇱 ℒ ʟ | 𝓜 🇲 Ⓜ 𝐌 ᙏ 𝓂 𝐦 🇳 𝓝 Nྀི nྀི 𓎆 И 🇴 𝒐 ⚬ 𝟎 ♡ ☺ 𝓹 🇵 𝐏 ℘ 🇶 𝕢 𝓺 𝖖 ® 🇷 ℛ Ʀ 𝐫 🇸 🆂 𝓢 𝐒 𝐬 𝓼 🇹 𝓣 т ✝ ⚚ 𝓽 🇺 ∪ 𝓾 𝕦 𝖚 𝓥 𝐕 \/ Ⓥ 🅥 🇻 🇼 🆆 𝓦 ω 𝕨 ш 🇽 ✗ ﾒ 𝕏 ༝ × ㄨ 𝓍 א 🇾 𝓨 Ｙ ꪗ 𝕪 ყ 🇿 ☡ 𐰁 ᶻ 𝗓 𝐙 ᴀ ʙ ᴄ ᴅ ᴇ ғ ɢ ʜ ɪ ᴊ ᴋ ʟ ᴍ ɴ ᴏ ᴘ ǫ ʀ s ᴛ ᴜ ᴠ ᴡ x ʏ ᴢ 𝓪 𝓫 𝓬 𝓭 𝓮 𝓯 𝓰 𝓱 𝓲 𝓳 𝓴 𝓵 𝓶 𝓷 𝓸 𝓹 𝓺 𝓻 𝓼 𝓽 𝓾 𝓿 𝔀 𝔁 𝔂 𝔃 𝕒 𝕓 𝕔 𝕕 𝕖 𝕗 𝕘 𝕙 𝕚 𝕛 𝕜 𝕝 𝕞 𝕟 𝕠 𝕡 𝕢 𝕣 𝕤 𝕥 𝕦 𝕧 𝕨 𝕩 𝕪 𝕫 ᗩ ᗷ ᑕ ᗪ E ᖴ G ᕼ I ᒍ K ᒪ ᗰ ᑎ O ᑭ ᑫ ᖇ ᔕ T ᑌ ᐯ ᗯ ᙭ Y ᘔ 🇦‌ 🇧‌ 🇨‌ 🇩‌ 🇪‌ 🇫‌ 🇬‌ 🇭‌ 🇮‌ 🇯‌ 🇰‌ 🇱‌ 🇲‌ 🇳‌ 🇴‌ 🇵‌ 🇶‌ 🇷‌ 🇸‌ 🇹‌ 🇺‌ 🇻‌ 🇼‌ 🇽‌ 🇾‌ 🇿‌ 🅰 🅱 🅲 🅳 🅴 🅵 🅶 🅷 🅸 🅹 🅺 🅻 🅼 🅽 🅾 🅿 🆀 🆁 🆂 🆃 🆄 🆅 🆆 🆇 🆈 🆉 𝔞 𝔟 𝔠 𝔡 𝔢 𝔣 𝔤 𝔥 𝔦 𝔧 𝔨 𝔩 𝔪 𝔫 𝔬 𝔭 𝔮 𝔯 𝔰 𝔱 𝔲 𝔳 𝔴 𝔵 𝔶 𝔷 ᵃ ᵇ ᶜ ᵈ ᵉ ᶠ ᵍ ʰ ⁱ ʲ ᵏ ˡ ᵐ ⁿ ᵒ ᵖ ૧ ʳ ˢ ᵗ ᵘ ᵛ ʷ ˣ ʸ ᶻ

“🫧🎀⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆”

୨ৎ

"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 )

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣶⣿⣷⣶⣶⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣤⣤⣴⣶⣶⣶⣦⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣦⣤⣤⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⣤⣀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⢟⣺⡽⢛⣿⣿⠿⠟⠋⠉⠁⡀⢀⠠⠁⠀⠄⠀⠥⠤⠉⠉⠙⠛⠿⠿⣶⣦⣄⣀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⣿⣷⡫⣿⣾⠿⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠠⡛⣁⣂⠄⠀⠒⠁⡄⠄⠀⠂⠐⠔⠠⣀⠠⠀⠉⠻⢿⣿⣿⣯⣿⣾⣾⣹⣗⡀⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣮⢵⣿⠟⠀⠁⠀⠀⠄⠔⠊⠀⠀⡀⠀⠊⠐⡈⡈⠀⠃⠀⠀⠈⠠⠀⠀⠀⣀⢦⡄⠀⠻⣿⣿⣿⡷⣻⠟⢿⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣫⣼⡗⠁⠀⠀⠀⡈⠂⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠁⠁⡀⠈⠂⠂⠀⢤⡀⡀⠀⢨⢄⡀⠨⠐⡙⢷⡀⠈⢿⣿⣏⣿⡓⡿⣯⣿⣀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢾⣿⣿⢿⡿⣼⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠔⡈⠀⠀⠀⢠⡀⠀⠈⠅⠀⠠⠁⠁⢄⠀⠢⡀⠹⣆⠀⠀⠀⠉⢄⠒⠄⠈⠻⣦⣾⣿⣿⠥⠾⡥⣄⣿⣿⣆⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣿⣿⣻⢟⠃⠀⠀⢀⠄⣠⠂⠀⠑⠀⣿⡥⠁⡐⡀⠁⠀⠠⠀⠀⠐⠀⠘⠀⠘⣧⡀⠀⠀⠈⠁⢠⠀⠈⠹⣿⣷⣿⣦⠘⢿⣮⣻⣿⣿⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣿⣿⠆⠀⠀⠀⠋⢠⡟⠀⠀⢄⢴⡾⡇⡴⢀⠀⠊⠀⠈⣶⡄⠀⡤⠤⡀⠀⠘⢗⡄⠄⠐⠀⡢⠀⠀⠀⠹⢿⣾⣿⣃⠘⢿⢻⣿⣿⣽⣆⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣷⡒⠀⠀⠀⠐⠀⣼⠃⠀⠠⣾⠋⠨⣿⠀⡄⠀⡆⠙⡁⣹⣿⣄⠀⠀⢩⡈⠀⠨⣷⠁⠀⠀⠤⢀⢂⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⡷⡄⢘⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⠂⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⢹⣷⠄⠀⡰⠁⢰⣿⠀⣰⡿⠥⠄⢤⡟⠆⣷⠀⢩⢠⠀⣿⠉⢿⣦⠁⠘⣿⣆⠀⢻⣷⡀⢀⠃⢀⠊⠄⠀⢹⣿⣟⢷⢳⣼⣷⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣾⣿⠀⠠⢘⠀⣸⣿⣰⡻⠁⠄⠀⠀⠔⡺⣿⣖⠐⡨⠀⣾⡁⠀⣿⣷⡶⣓⡿⢻⡮⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠸⣿⣯⡹⣿⣽⣿⣷⢿⡂⠈⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⡟⢽⣿⠀⠀⠁⠀⣸⣿⣿⢵⣿⢵⣦⣄⠀⢸⣉⣿⡄⠒⠄⣿⠀⠀⠈⠘⠯⢿⣧⠈⠻⣿⣿⡀⢀⠀⠐⠀⠀⠄⣿⣗⢿⠿⣾⠎⠘⣾⣇⡁⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⠇⢸⡿⢾⡄⠀⠀⣿⣿⡫⠔⣫⢭⢩⣵⢳⡛⠻⣟⠶⠐⠂⣟⣪⢠⣤⢈⣠⠬⣷⣤⣄⡘⢯⡇⢀⠂⠘⢰⡀⠀⢿⣿⣿⣷⣅⠀⠀⢿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⠀⢸⡇⢸⡆⠀⠀⣿⣿⡂⣽⣿⣩⠹⢯⣉⣛⣑⠘⢾⣬⡄⢹⡻⢈⣴⣿⣾⣲⣽⣟⠿⣿⣿⣇⠰⠀⠈⢠⡇⠀⢸⣿⣷⣺⣿⠀⠀⣸⣿⠂⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡏⠀⣸⡇⣸⣿⡀⠀⣿⣷⡇⢻⡿⠋⡏⠳⣷⡇⠀⡁⠊⠼⢞⢼⢿⠘⣿⣿⠻⡘⣊⣹⠂⢘⣿⣟⠀⠀⠀⣾⡇⠀⢸⣇⣿⣿⡿⡀⠀⠈⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⠇⠀⣿⣿⣿⣟⣇⠀⣿⡏⠀⢠⠟⡻⠯⠞⠏⡄⠀⠠⠓⢄⠐⠠⠫⢉⠻⠟⠛⠒⠻⣯⡆⠡⣿⠿⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣦⡀⣿⣿⣾⢟⠇⠀⠀⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⣸⣿⠀⠀⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⠄⢸⢿⣄⠠⠛⡏⢂⢀⠀⢄⣀⣸⢊⠤⠌⣥⡈⢉⡀⠓⢗⠴⠾⠊⠠⠀⣼⡏⠀⠄⣾⣽⣻⡿⢿⣿⣿⣾⣿⡃⠀⠀⢹⣿⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⣿⡇⣴⠀⣿⣿⣿⡏⠹⣿⣾⠿⣿⣯⣄⠁⠕⢡⡐⢛⡲⠓⢦⠬⠥⠬⠬⠭⠬⠄⠁⠈⠅⠹⠖⢀⢿⡋⢂⣾⣿⣯⣿⠁⠀⠀⣿⣿⣻⡇⠀⠀⢸⣿⠁⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢀⣿⠃⣿⢸⣿⣹⣾⡇⠀⠘⢿⣻⣾⢾⣿⡻⢶⣤⣁⡗⠖⡐⠶⠶⠶⡆⠉⢁⠰⠄⠀⠈⢁⣠⣼⣾⡎⣠⢿⣯⣿⡿⠃⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠈⣿⡇⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⣸⣿⠀⣿⢸⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⡈⠻⢟⠺⣾⡸⢿⣿⣎⣽⣿⡷⢶⣶⣶⣦⣶⣿⣶⣷⣶⣿⠿⢟⡿⣿⣺⠝⠉⠉⡉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣵⠀⠀⠀⣿⣇⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⣿⡇⠀⣿⣿⣿⣏⣿⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠆⠀⠛⠿⢻⡿⢛⡉⣱⣴⡿⣿⣇⠰⡿⠋⠙⣎⣄⠀⠰⠿⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⠀⠀ ⠀⢸⣿⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⡈⠂⠀⡀⣠⡺⢷⣷⠃⡀⢸⣷⣾⠏⠉⢷⡄⢶⣖⢮⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⣞⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⠀⠀ ⠀⣾⡏⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠂⠂⢁⣼⣿⣷⣿⡿⢠⢈⣽⢧⣿⢩⢭⠽⣿⣾⣿⣾⢼⣂⠀⠀⠀⠑⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⢸⣽⣿⢼⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⡄⠀ ⢠⣿⠇⠀⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣡⠾⡿⣟⣷⣺⣿⢸⢀⣿⠀⣿⠈⡆⠀⠈⢿⣟⣿⣴⣇⣧⡀⠀⠀⠁⡆⠀⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣾⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡇⠀ ⢸⣿⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⢿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⢿⣗⣟⢹⣿⡋⡿⣆⢸⣿⡆⣿⠀⢸⠄⠤⣲⣿⣿⣭⡞⣿⣻⡄⠀⠀⠑⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣷⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣷⠀ ⢸⣿⡄⠀⠀⠈⣿⣶⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⡬⡿⣝⡿⣺⡞⡹⠁⣼⡝⠃⣿⡀⢸⡇⠑⡘⣿⣿⡟⣵⣿⣿⢿⣦⠀⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿⡄ ⢸⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⢸⣇⣈⣿⣟⢴⣝⣧⡘⠁⠀⣹⣷⢶⣟⠁⠀⢳⣣⣀⣘⣿⣧⢻⣿⢾⣿⡟⡇⠘⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⠃⠀⢰⠀⠀⠘⣿⡇ ⢸⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀⠈⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠛⠛⠋⢉⣬⡻⣿⡻⣧⣴⣿⣷⣻⣿⣆⢤⣶⣿⣿⣿⡿⣟⡻⣿⣿⠤⢿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⢸⣿⣿⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⣿⣧ ⠘⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠸⣿⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢱⣿⣶⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⢾⣿⢿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣷⣿⣻⣿⣤⣈⡚⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⠇⠀⢠⣿⠀⠀⠀⣿⣧ ⠀⢻⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀⠀⢻⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⠿⣮⣡⣋⣽⣿⠿⣯⣯⠿⣿⣟⡿⣿⣿⣷⠒⠞⠁⠀⠁⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⡟⠀⠀⣾⣿⠀⠀⠀⣿⡏ ⠀⠀⠹⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀⢿⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣹⣯⣭⣿⣿⣶⣷⣹⣓⣁⠉⣁⣰⣶⡅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⡿⠁⠀⣼⣿⡏⠀⠀⣼⣿⠁ ⠀⠀⠀⠘⢿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣾⣿⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢻⣿⣯⣿⣿⡺⢷⣿⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⠃⢀⣾⣿⣿⠃⢀⣼⣿⠋⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣿⣿⣿⡗⣽⣯⣿⣯⣧⣯⢶⡙⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⡿⢃⣴⣿⣿⣿⣟⣴⣿⡿⠁⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠛⠛⠛⠿⠿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿⣿⢿⣼⣿⡿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⠟⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣷⣷⣷⡠⣤⣟⣿⣯⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⠿⠿⠿⠟⠛⠛⠛⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠛⠿⠟⠛⠁⠀⢿⣼⣿⣿⡿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠃⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

"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.

CHIP OFF THE OLD TALKS i (Autistic Author) Karen went to the park. Her husband, Plankton, sat by her. Karen glanced over and saw the soft smile on his face, a smile that had greeted her every morning for the past twenty-five or so years. The park was alive with laughter, the distant sound of a ball bouncing off the pavement and the occasional squawk from a seagull. Plankton's eye were closed, his breathing slow and steady. He was enjoying the warmth of the afternoon sun on his face. Suddenly, their adopted son Chip burst into their peaceful scene, his cheeks flushed from running. He was holding a frisbee that had strayed from its intended path, and he called out to them with the enthusiasm of a young boy who had discovered something wonderful. "Look what I found!" he exclaimed, oblivious to the delicate moment he was interrupting. Plankton jolts. Karen's notices her husband's sudden movement. His eye open wide, and he stares into the distance unseeing, unblinking. She knows the signs all too well. Plankton is having one of his shutdowns. But Chip's dart between the frisbee and his parents, sensing something amiss. "Dad?" Chip says, tentatively. Karen jumps up and grabs Plankton's arm, gently squeezing to bring him back. "It's ok, honey," she whispers, her voice steady. Chip's smile fades as he sees his father's unresponsive state. He drops the frisbee, forgotten in his grip, and takes a cautious step closer. "What's happening?" he asks, his voice cracking. Plankton's body remains eerily still, like a statue. The only indication that he's alive is the faint rise and fall of his chest as he breathes. Karen's eyes dart around the area, checking if anyone has noticed. She doesn't want to draw unwanted attention. "It's ok, Dad's just taking a little break," she murmurs, setting the frisbee aside. He's never seen these before, nor knows the drill. Chip takes in Plankton's unblinking gaze. Karen feels a pang of guilt for keeping this part of Plankton's condition hidden from their kid. But it's a dance they've been performing for years, trying to maintain a sense of normalcy amidst Plankton's condition. Karen focuses solely on Plankton, willing him to come back to her. She feels the warmth of his hand under hers, but there's no response, no squeeze, no recognition of her touch. Karen's gaze is fixed on her husband's face, searching for any hint of life, any flicker of consciousness. She whispers his name, a soft mantra, trying to anchor him to reality. But Chip doesn't understand. His eyes are wide, full of fear and confusion as he watches his dad frozen in place. "What's a 'little break'?" he asks, voice trembling. Karen's heart tightens; she's always shielded Chip, hoping to spare him the worry and fear. "It's like when you zone out," she explains gently, hoping to relate it to something he might have experienced. "Remember when you were playing video games and I had to call you for dinner three times before you heard me?" Chip nods slowly, still glued to Plankton's unmoving form. "It's like that," Karen continues, "But for Dad, it happens without warning." Chip nods again, trying to process this new information. He's always known his dad was different, but seeing him like this is something he's never had to face before. He takes a deep breath and tries to hold back his tears, not wanting to scare Plankton when he wakes up. "What do we do?" he whispers, his voice shaky. Karen squeezes Plankton's hand gently, never leaving his face. "Just wait," she instructs Chip calmly. "These usually don't last long. But if you need to, you can tell anyone who asks that he's okay, just deep in thought." Chip nods, trying to mimic his mother's calm demeanor, but his eyes betray his anxiety. He's never seen his dad like this, never knew that these moments of stillness were a part of him. Plankton's condition, a form of autism, can leave him with anger issues and overload. Karen feels the weight of the secret they've kept from Chip all these years. Plankton's autistic neurodivergence had always been a part of their lives, but they had shielded their son from the full extent of it. They had hoped he would understand when he was older, but now the moment had come unplanned, and she wasn't sure if ready. "Why does Dad zone out?" Chip asks, his voice small. Karen sighs, deciding it's time for the truth. She sits down next to Plankton, keeping her hand on his arm. "Dad has something called 'neurodivergence', Chip. It's like his brain works differently than ours. Sometimes it helps him see the world in amazing ways, but it can also be hard for him. These little breaks are his brain's way of processing." Chip stares at her, trying to grasp the concept. "So, he's not just ignoring us?" "No, sweetie," Karen says. "He's not ignoring us. It's like his brain needs a time-out, like when you play for to long and your phone heats up and/or dies, but will still work eventually." The wind picks up, rustling through the leaves above them, and a chill runs down Chip's spine. He nods slowly, watching his dad's chest rise and fall in the silence. It's strange to see someone so still, so quiet, yet so obviously alive. "But why haven't you told me before?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. Karen's eyes well up with tears she quickly blinks away. "We wanted to protect you," she admits. "I didn't want you to be scared and he doesn’t want you to think of him differently." "But it's okay to think differently," Chip argues, his voice growing stronger. "Dad's always been there for me, even if he doesn't hug me a lot." Karen smiles sadly, stroking Plankton's arm. "It's not just about thinking differently, Chip. It's about how his brain processes things. Sometimes, too much sensory input can overwhelm him. That's why he might seem distant or not as affectionate as other dads. It's not because he doesn't like you," she reassures him. "It's because hugging or loud noises can be really intense for him." Chip's eyes widen with understanding. "So, that's why he doesn't like it when I jump on him?" "Yes," Karen nods. "But it doesn't mean he loves you any less. He just shows it in his own way. Like when he spends hours helping you build that Lego castle, or when he makes those amazing sea creature sculptures that you love so much." Chip's shoulders slump, and he sits down on the bench beside his mother, staring at his dad with a newfound curiosity. "Does he know I know now?" "I don't think so, honey," Karen says, her voice still low and soothing. "These episodes usually last just a few minutes. It's like he's somewhere else, but he'll come back to us." The park's sounds swirl around them, muffled by the tension that has settled in the air. Karen watches Plankton's expression, waiting for the telltale twitch of his antennae that signals his return to the present. Finally, Plankton blinks and looks at Karen, his gaze momentarily unfocused before recognition floods back into his eye. He looks around, startled by his surroundings, and then at Chip, who is staring at him. "What happened?" Plankton asks, his voice groggy. Karen releases a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. "You had one of your zoning-out moments," she says, her voice calm and gentle. Plankton looks at her, then at Chip, who is watching him with a mix of curiosity and fear. "I did?" Plankton's antennae twitch, and he rubs his head. "Yes," Karen says, her hand still on his arm. "Chip found a frisbee, remember?" Plankton's gaze shifts to the frisbee lying forgotten on the ground, then back to his son. He nods slowly, piecing the moments before together. "Ah," he murmurs, a hint of embarrassment crossing his face. Chip's curiosity outweighs his fear as he looks at his father. "Can I ask?" he asks tentatively. Karen nods, her heart swelling with pride at his bravery. "Of course, Chip." Chip looks at his dad, filled with questions. "Why’d you zone out?" he asks, his voice still hushed. "It's none of your business Chip," Plankton snaps, his eye flashing with a sudden fury that takes both Karen and Chip aback. His voice is harsh, the words cutting through the stillness of the park. Karen's heart sinks as she sees the hurt on Chip's face. Plankton's anger, a common side effect of his overload, surfaces without warning. She knows he doesn't mean it, but the sting is real for their son.

A TOOTHY STORY pt. 1 ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ & ꜱᴜʀɢᴇʀʏ "But, why? Karen they're not even hurting or growing in, yet!" "It's preventative, Sheldon; the x-ray showed potential crowding." Karen responds to her husband, Plankton. It's the night before his wisdom teeth extraction, and she knew he's nervous. Sheldon Plankton sighs, running his tongue over his back molars, feeling the gums where the wisdom teeth lurk beneath the surface. But it does little to distract from the looming dental appointment tomorrow morning. He looks at his wife, Karen, whose screen filled with understanding. She's always been the level-headed one, calming him during their most turbulent times. "Don't worry, sweetheart," Karen says, stroking his forehead gently, "You'll be under anesthesia. You won't feel a thing. It'll be like a little nap, and when you wake up, it'll all be over." They go to bed, as they'll have to get up early. Plankton's always been a light sleeper, usually the last to fall asleep and/or first to wake. The anticipation of the morning's dental procedure keeps him tossing and turning. The digital clock on the nightstand clicks over to 2 AM, its red digits glowing like an accusation. Karen has to take him in three hours... Karen's awake at 4:45. Plankton lay beside her snoring gently. She gently shakes him. "Plankton," she whispers, "it's time to get up." He stirs, groaning softly, eye fluttering open to the dim room. "Ugh.." Karen smiles softly, "Come on, honey, we've got to get going. The sooner we're there, the sooner it's over." With a heavy sigh, Plankton gets up. The drive to the dentist's office is tense and quiet. The soft hum of the car's engine and the occasional streetlight flickering outside are the only sounds that accompany them through the desolate early morning streets. They arrive at the clinic, a modern building with sleek glass walls that reflect the pre-dawn light. Plankton's heart thumps in his chest as he follows Karen inside. The receptionist, a cheery woman named Becky, greets them with a smile that seems almost painfully bright at this hour. "Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Plankton!" she chirps. Plankton nods, trying to match her energy, but his nerves betray him. "You're here for your wisdom teeth, right?" Becky asks, typing away on her keyboard. Plankton nods again, feeling a wave of anxiety wash over him. He's never been a fan of the dentist, but this was a whole new level of dental dread. Karen notices this and squeezes his hand reassuringly. "Don't worry," Becky says, noticing his distress, "Dr. Marlin is the best. And our anesthesia is top-notch. You won't feel a thing." Plankton tries to smile, but it comes out more as a grimace. "You'll be so relaxed you won't even know what's happening. It's like a dreamless sleep. You'll wake up with four less teeth and a much more comfortable mouth!" She leads them through the hallway, the smell of antiseptic strengthening with each step. The walls are adorned with soothing seascape paintings, an obvious attempt to put patients at ease. Plankton's heart rate doesn't decrease, but he appreciates the effort. They enter the surgery room. The chair is more like a recliner. Dr. Marlin, a friendly-looking octopus, enters the room, his tentacles holding a clipboard. "Good morning," he says in a soothing tone. "Ready to get those wisdom teeth out?" Karen kisses him on the forehead and whispers, "You got this." Plankton nods, trying to convince himself. The doctor explains the procedure one last time, his tentacles gesturing to the various tools laid out on the tray. The nurse, a clownfish named Nina, starts to prep him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "We're going to give you something to bite down on to keep your mouth open," Nina says, holding up a plastic mouth prop. It looks like a small version of an L-shaped building block. Plankton nods again. The chair reclines back and the overhead light shines down, casting harsh shadows on the ceiling tiles. Karen squeezes his hand once more before stepping aside as Dr. Marlin and Nina get to work. The anesthesia is administered, and the room starts to blur. Plankton feels his body go slack, the fear giving way to a sudden calm. He hears Karen's voice, faintly, saying, "See you..." And then, darkness. Karen feels his hand go limp in hers as the anesthesia takes hold. She watches as Dr. Marlin's tentacles swirl around Plankton's open mouth. The nurse, Nina, holds a small syringe filled with a clear liquid, which she carefully administers into his gums. Plankton's body relaxes further, and he starts to snore as they prod his numb gums, all while he's remaining asleep. The surgery goes by in a blur for Karen, who sits in the chair next to him, holding his hand. She can hear the sounds of the extraction tools, but she focuses on his peaceful breathing and the steady beep of the heart rate monitor. The room is cool, the sterile smell of the surgery room comforting in its own way. As the extraction begins, Plankton doesn't stir. The doctor's tentacles move with practiced precision, each tug and pull a dance of surgical skill. Nina stands by, her eyes focused on the monitors, ensuring his vital signs remain stable. The first tooth is out. Karen can't help but look away at the sound of bone cracking, despite the doctor's assurance that Plankton can't feel it. Her eyes water, but she quickly wipes the tears away, not wanting to alarm the already unconscious Plankton. She glances at the clock. Only twenty minutes have passed. Dr. Marlin strokes Plankton's antennae. Nina nods along, her attention mostly on Plankton. The second tooth is extracted with slightly more resistance. The doctor's tentacles tug gently, applying the right amount of pressure. Karen squeezes his hand. "It's okay," she whispers, though she's not sure if he can hear. The third tooth is the most stubborn, requiring the use of a pair of forceps that make a sound like a tiny car wreck. Plankton's body jerks slightly but he remains unconscious. The doctor and nurse work in harmony, their movements so swift and coordinated that they almost seem like a dance. The fourth tooth is the quickest to come out, as if it knew it was the last stand and gave up without a fight. Dr. Marlin nods to Nina, who begins to suture Plankton's gums. The needle pierces through the swollen flesh with a sound that makes Karen cringe, but Plankton doesn't react at all. She watches as Nina's nimble fins guide the thread with the care of a master embroiderer, stitching the flaps of gum back together. Plankton's snoring remains steady as they suture his numb gums. Nina's fin deftly weaves the thread, each stitch a silent promise of a pain-free future. The tension in the room slowly dissolves with each completed suture. They use dissolvable stitches, so they use more anesthesia to numb the inside of the gums before stitching them up completely. Dr. Marlin steps back, wiping his tentacles with a towel. "All done," he says with a smile. The doctor rinses Plankton's numb mouth with saline of any excess blood or debris, and Karen notices the transformation: his tense jaw relaxes, his breathing deepens, and his usually active antennae are still, as if he's sunk into the deepest of slumbers.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 𝟓𝟕𝟎 “Plankton can you at least come out and do the dishes?” Karen says. Her husband Plankton has been working at his desk, trying to plan and scheme. She brought him his meals for the past two days. He stayed up all night! “Honey?” No response. So she decided to go check on him. She goes to peek through the door. Plankton sat at his desk, slumped over, fast asleep. She saw his head nodded to the side, resting on his arm. A soft snore echoed in the silence. She noticed he was drooling a bit from his open mouth onto a stack of crumpled papers. Karen approached him. "Plankton," she cooed, placing her hand on his shoulder. He didn't budge. Karen gently shook him, but his snores grew louder. “C’mon, sweetie, time to wake up.” She whispered, but his sleep was unyielding. With a gentle tug on the shoulder, she managed to pull his body upright, a line of drool still connecting his mouth to the paper. "Come on, Plankton," she said more firmly, this time her hand on his cheek, her thumb wiping away the drool, head lolling backward with a snort. “Plankton, darling, please come to bed. You have been working so hard. Let’s get some rest,” she urged with a smile. But Plankton was too deeply asleep to hear her soft voice. His eye remained closed. With a sigh, Karen decided to get him up out of this chair herself. She took his arm and began to lift his weight from the chair. Plankton's body resisted, his head falling to her side with a dull thud. Karen chuckled, his snoring now vibrating. She managed to get him out of the chair. "Just a few steps, love," she murmured, but Plankton's snores grew like a crescendo in an orchestra. His limp body leaned into her like a ragdoll with no bones. She hoists him up on her shoulder, his arm dangling loosely, his snores growing rhythmic like a lullaby in a cartoon. The room was a mess, papers scattered like tiny white waves across the ocean of their living room. She stepped over them carefully, not wanting to wake his slumbering form. His office chair screeched as she pushed it aside with her foot, the sound like nails on a chalkboard in the quiet of the night. Plankton's arm slid off Karen's shoulder. She giggled nervously, his snoring now a symphony of sounds. She readjusted her grip, his head lolling against her. "Almost there," she whispered, her cheeks flushed with a mix of love and exasperation. The bedroom door creaked open like the entrance to a secret passage. Plankton's snores were a gentle soundtrack to the silent dance of her struggle. The bed looked like a mountain from here. She took a deep breath, bracing herself for the climb. With his arm slung over her neck, his body limp, she began the ascent. Step by step, she inched closer. As she reached the bed, he slipped again, this time his head lolling back to hang over the edge of the mattress. “Oh no, you don’t!” she exclaimed, his weight making her stumble. With a laugh that was half exhaustion, half endearment, she tugged him up and laid him down gently. Karen watched his chest rise and fall in deep sleep. The room was dimly lit by the moon, his snores a soothing white noise in the quiet.

A TOOTHY STORY pt. 3 Moments later, a groan escapes Plankton as he starts to stir, his eye fluttering open. "Hey, how's it going?" Karen asks him. "Mmm?" he mumbles, his voice thick as his eye flutters. "The surgery's over," she tells him, keeping her voice low and soothing. "We're just waiting for you to wake up properly before we go home." "Mmph," is all that comes out. Karen laughs gently, wiping his numb mouth. Plankton's eye blinks. "W-what?" He slurs. "You're okay," she repeats, smoothing his antennae. "You had your wisdom teeth out. They're all gone. You're in recovery." Plankton tries to speak. "Mmh... mmf... m-much?" Karen chuckles. "You'll feel better soon." Plankton's mouth feels like it's filled with wet cotton. He tries to form words, his tongue clumsy against the numbness. "Wh-wha?" Karen laughs gently, her screen sparkling with love and amusement. "You just had surgery." Plankton blinks, trying to focus. "Gah?" he attempts, his voice barely above a whisper. Karen laughs softly, her hand on his shoulder. "It's okay, just take it easy." "Mmph... m-more?" Plankton slurs. Karen's eyes widen with surprise and laughter. "No, honey, all four are out. You're all done." "Mm-hmm?" He tries again, his voice a mere vibration in his throat. The nurse, Nina, smiles at him, her eyes crinkling with kindness. "You're doing great, Mr. Plankton," she says, her voice a gentle melody that seems to soothe his jumbled thoughts. "Just a little while longer and you'll be feeling more like yourself." He nods, his movements sluggish, his antennae flopping slightly. "Mmh... mmf," he mumbles again, his eye searching hers for clarity. Karen nods and smiles, understanding his unspoken question. "You're okay. The surgery went well. We just need to wait for the anesthesia to wear off." Karen leans in closer, her voice a lifeline in the sea of confusion. "You can't eat solids for a few days. But we've got plenty of smoothies and soups at home. You're going to love it." "K-Karen?" He croaks, his voice barely audible. She nods, smiling, her screen still filled with love and concern. "Wh-what... thine?" He slurs, his speech still slurred by the lingering effects of the anesthesia. Karen glances at the clock on the wall. "It's early," she says. "Don't worry about it." Plankton's antennae twitch, his mind grasping for coherence. "M-morning?" He mumbles, his eyes searching the room. The nurse, Nina, nods, her smile reassuring. "Yep, it's morning. The surgery's done. You're all set, Mr. Plankton." "I... I had... had... had surgery?" he asks, his speech still thick. Karen nods, her smile warm. "Yes, you did. Dr. Marlin said it went really well." "W-where's the... the... the...?" His words are slurred, and he can't quite remember what he was trying to ask. "Hmm?" He says, noticing Becky the receptionist. Karen nods. "The dentist took them out. Your mouth will feel a bit funny for a while, but it's all over." Plankton's eye widen in comprehension, and he attempts to smile, drool escaping his numb lips. "Mmph... m-mouth," he says, his voice a pitiful excuse for speech. Karen laughs, her worry melting into relief. "You're okay," she repeats. "Just give it some time. Your mouth will get back to normal soon." "Mmph... mmf... m-morning Becky," Plankton tries to greet the receptionist as she walks by, his voice barely a whisper. She laughs lightly, her cheerfulness a stark contrast to the post-surgery haze that hangs over him. "Good morning, Mr. Plankton. How are you feeling?" Becky's words float around him like bubbles in the sea, each one popping with a burst of understanding as his mind starts to clear. "Mmh... mm... m-morning," he mumbles. He tries to sit up straighter. Karen helps him, her movements quick and sure. "M-mouth..." Plankton's words are still slurred, but he's trying his best to communicate. The nurse, Nina, laughs gently. "Your mouth will feel funny for a bit," she says, "But it'll get better." Karen watches as Plankton's eyes try to focus on her. "Mmf... home?" he asks, his voice barely a whisper. She nods, smiling. "As soon as you're ready to go." He nods, his antennae waving weakly. The nurse, Nina, checks his vitals one more time before nodding to Becky, the receptionist. "Looks like he's coming around," Becky says, scribbling something on a clipboard. "You guys can go once you're ready."

PATRICK PLANKTON 1/4 (NEURODIVERGENT AUTHOR) Patrick went in the Chum Bucket where Plankton lives with Karen. "Welcome to the Chum Bucket Patrick," Karen called out. Patrick waved back, eyes lighting up at the sight of the various contraptions and inventions that lined the walls. He always found Plankton's fascinating, a stark contrast to the bright and bustling SpongeBob's pineapple house. The Chum Bucket was like a treasure trove of mysteries waiting to be uncovered, and Patrick loved a good mystery. He wandered further into the lab, his footsteps echoing off the metal floors, each step revealing more of Plankton's ingenious creations. Suddenly he spotted a tiny figure hunched over a book on a couch. It was Plankton, his single eyeball glued to the pages, oblivious to the world around him. The book's title, "101 Ways to Steal the Krabby Patty Secret Formula," was barely visible under a thick layer of dust. "Hey, Plankton!" Patrick bellowed, his voice booming like a foghorn in the small, cluttered space. The sudden noise caused Plankton to jump, sending his book flying into the air. "What are you reading?" Karen, who had been quietly watching the scene unfold from her desk, couldn't help but notice that Plankton had not moved a muscle since the book flew from his grasp. His body remained rigid, his eyeball unblinking. Concern crept into her voice as she called out to him, "Plankton, are you ok?" The tiny villain didn't respond, his expression frozen in a silent scream. Patrick looked around, puzzled. "Is he playing a game?" he asked, his tone hinting at the innocent curiosity that often got him into trouble. Karen recognized immediately went to the couch and sat by Plankton, Patrick not knowing what's happening. Karen's gaze fell upon Plankton's unblinking eye and she knew instantly what was wrong. He was in a state of sensory overload. She had seen it happen before, though Patrick hasn't. She gently touched his shoulder, trying to coax him back to reality. "Plankton, sweetiep," she cooed. Patrick's puzzled expression grew more concerned as he took in Plankton's unresponsive state. "What happened to him, Karen?" he asked, his voice quieter now, a hint of worry in his tone. "It's his sensory shutdown, Patrick," Karen explained softly, stroking Plankton's arm gently. "It's like his brain got too full of thoughts and had to take a little break. It's ok, he'll be fine." She knew this was something he'd have to come out of on his own. She had been there for him countless times before, each instance more terrifying than the last, but she had learned patience was key. Patrick, still not fully grasping the situation, knelt beside the couch. He leaned in closer to Plankton nearly touching the little plankton's face. "Hey buddy you ok?" he asked, his voice now a gentle whisper. Karen put a hand on Patrick's arm, gently guiding him back. "Just give him some space, Patrick," she instructed. "He'll come around. This happens when he's really stressed or overwhelmed." Patrick nodded slowly, his eyes still glued to his friend. He didn't fully understand, but he knew that Karen knew what she was talking about. He stepped back, allowing Karen to continue her soothing whispers to Plankton. The room grew quiet, save for the rhythmic ticking of a clock that had long ago lost track of time and the soft hum of machines in the background. The tension in the air was palpable, as if it too was holding its breath, waiting for Plankton to snap out of his frozen state. "You can do it, Plankton," she encouraged. "Just breathe." Plankton's body slowly relaxed, and his eye blinked, finally coming back into focus. He looked around, bewildered, as if he had just woken from a particularly vivid nightmare. "Karen?" he croaked, his voice weak and trembling. "I'm here, Plankton," she said, her hand still resting on his arm. "You had another shutdown, but it's over now." His eye narrowed on Patrick, who was now standing awkwardly by the couch. "What?" Plankton snapped. Patrick's eyes widened. "I-I just want to see what was wrong," he stuttered. "Well, nothing's wrong with me!" Plankton spat pushing himself up from the couch. "But you were just..." Patrick started to protest. "I said there's nothing wrong!" Patrick took a step back. "But..." "Just leave me alone!" Plankton shouted, echoing off the cold metal walls. Patrick's smile faded, and he looked down. He hadn't meant to upset his friend, but he couldn't help but feel confused and hurt by Plankton's sudden outburst. "I-I'm sorry, Plankton," he murmured. "I didn't mean to... I just..." "You just what?" Plankton cut him off, antennae quivering with irritation. "You just don't know to mind your business do you?" "But I just..." "I said leave me alone!" Plankton barked again, his tiny frame shaking with anger. Patrick took another step back, his eyes brimming with confusion. "Plankton..." "What part of 'leave me alone' don't you understand?" Plankton retorted. Patrick's eyes searched the room, desperate to find something to say or do that would fix the situation. The air grew thick with the tension of Plankton's frustration and Patrick's fear of losing a friendship he had worked hard to maintain despite their many differences. "I just..." he began again, his voice trailing off as he tried to find the right words. "What is it?" Plankton snarled, impatience growing with each passing second. Patrick took a deep breath, trying to compose his thoughts. "I just wanted to make sure you were ok because I don't know what's wrong with you," he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "Wrong with me?" Plankton's voice grew louder, his tiny fists clenching at his sides. "You think there's something wrong with me?!" Patrick took another step back, his eyes never leaving Plankton's furious gaze. "Well, you know you were just sitting there, not moving..." "It's none of your business!" Plankton yelled, his antennae quivering with rage. "What's it to you anyway?" Karen, who had been watching the exchange with a growing sense of unease, knew that she had to intervene. She could see the hurt in Patrick's eyes and the turmoil within Plankton's, and she knew that their friendship was hanging by a thread. Carefully, she stood up from her chair and approached the two, her movements deliberate and calming. "Plankton, honey, let's not get too worked up," she said placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Patrick didn't mean any harm. He's just worried about you." Patrick nodded emphatically, his hands raised in a gesture of peace. "Yeah, buddy, I just want to help." But Plankton's anger didn't subside. "You don't get it do you? I don't need your help, or your pity. I just want you to leave me alone!" Karen's gaze softened as she looked at her husband. "Patrick, I know you mean well, but sometimes Plankton needs his space." Patrick's eyes darted from Karen to Plankton, his confusion now mixed with a hint of sadness. "But, I thought..." Karen stepped between them, her eyes filled with understanding. "Patrick, sometimes Plankton just needs a moment." She turned to Plankton, her voice firm but gentle. "And Plankton, you know Patrick only wants to be there for you." Plankton's eye narrowed, but he didn't argue. He just nodded curtly, embracing her hand. "Ok," Patrick murmured, his voice heavy with disappointment. "Look, Patrick," Karen said, her voice measured and soothing, "Plankton's got a condition." Karen turns to Plankton as Patrick comes back by them. "Plankton, may you explain to Patrick?" Plankton let out a heavy sigh, his tiny shoulders rising and falling dramatically. Patrick's expression grew more concerned, his pink star-shaped body inching closer to the couple. "Plankton, don't be scared.." "I'm not scared!" Plankton barked, his antennae shooting straight up. "I just don't need you poking in to my business!" Patrick's eyes grew wide, and he took a tentative step back. "But..." "But nothing!" Plankton spat, curling inward to Karen. "I don't need your help, I don't need your pity, and I certainly don't need you treating me like some sort of lab experiment!" Ignoring the barb, Patrick took a step closer, his tentacles reaching out to pat Plankton's shoulder. It was a gesture of comfort he'd seen SpongeBob use countless times, and it had always worked to soothe his frayed nerves. But as soon as his hand made contact, Plankton flinched violently, as if he'd been scalded. "Don't touch me!" he yelled, shoving Patrick's hand away. Patrick's eyes went wide, and he took a hasty step back, his tentacles retreating into his body. "I'm sorry, Plankton," he stammered, his voice full of genuine remorse. "I didn't mean to..."

PATRICK PLANKTON 2/4 (NEURODIVERGENT AUTHOR) Yet Plankton was beyond listening. He was in the throes of a full-blown meltdown, his body quaking with anger and fear. His usually tiny form looked monstrous in the dim light of the lab, his eye wild and his antennae twitching erratically. Plankton's shaking grew more intense, his tiny body trembling. His eye darted around the room, looking everywhere except at the starfish who had just tried to offer him comfort. Karen's heart ached as she watched her husband's silent panic attack unfold. She knew the signs all too well. The erratic antennae movements, the clenched fists, the sudden need for personal space - it was all part of his condition. Plankton had always been so private about it, but she had hoped that with time and trust, he'd learn to open up. Patrick, however, remained oblivious to the gravity of the situation. He had never seen his friend this way, and the fear in Plankton's usually beady eye was more than he could bear. "What's happening to him?" he whispered to Karen, his voice shaking. Karen took a deep breath, her eyes never leaving Plankton's trembling form. "It's his condition," she said softly. "He gets like this when he's really overwhelmed. He needs us to be calm for him." Patrick looked from Karen to Plankton. He didn't know what to do, but he knew that he couldn't just stand there. Carefully, he reached out a tentacle and wrapped it around Plankton, pulling him into a gentle embrace. "It's okay, buddy," he murmured. "You don't have to be scared." But Plankton's panic only seemed to worsen. His tremors grew more pronounced, his tiny body convulsing in Patrick's arms. Karen's eyes grew wide with alarm, and she rushed over to her husband's side. "Patrick, let go!" she urged, her voice firm but filled with urgency. "You're making it worse!" Patrick's eyes grew wide, and he released Plankton as if he'd been holding a live wire. The tiny plankton crumpled to the floor, his body going limp. "Plankton?" Karen gasped, dropping to her knees beside him. She checked his antennae for a pulse, her face a mask of panic. "Plankton, can you hear me?" There was no response. His single eye had rolled back into his head, and his antennae had gone still. Panic gripped Karen and Patrick. "What's happening?" Patrick's voice was barely a whisper. Karen's filled with a mix of fear and determination as she checked Plankton's pulse again. "It's a severe episode," she said, her voice tight with concern. "He needs to calm down, and fast." Patrick hovered over them, his heart racing in his chest. "What..." "He's passed out," Karen said, her voice tight with worry. "We need to get him to his bed." Patrick's eyes grew rounder, and he nodded frantically. "Okay okay," he murmured, reaching down to help Karen lift Plankton's unconscious body. Together, they carefully carried him to the bed. Karen laid Plankton on the bed and began to check his vitals, scanning his tiny form with a medical precision that belied her usual robotic demeanor. "His pulse is steady." Patrick hovered at the edge of the room, his heart racing. "What can I do?" he asked, his voice quivering. "Just stay here," Karen instructed, her focus solely on Plankton. "And keep talking to him. Sometimes hearing a familiar voice helps." Patrick nodded, his tentacles clutching at the edge of the bed. "Plankton?" he called out softly, his voice filled with a mix of fear and concern. "Buddy, can you hear me?" There was no response. Plankton's tiny body remained still and lifeless, his antennae drooping like wet noodles. Patrick felt his own body go cold with fear. He'd never seen anyone faint before, let alone a friend. He didn't know what to do, so he just talked hoping his voice could reach Plankton through the fog of unconsciousness. "Hey, Plankton," he said softly, "Just rest up, buddy." Karen looked up from her ministrations, her expression grim. "Patrick," she began, voice low and serious, "you need to know something about Plankton." Patrick leaned in, his worry for his friend clear on his face. "What is it?" he whispered. "It's his brain," Karen said, her voice tight. "Plankton has a traumatic injury." She paused, her gaze never leaving Plankton's still form. "It's from an accident a long time ago, before I was even built.." Patrick's eyes grew wide with shock. "What kind of accident?" Karen took a deep breath, her eyes never leaving Plankton. "It was a... a car accident," she said finally, her voice thick with unshed emotion. "A runaway boat hit him, actually." Patrick's tentacles drooped in horror. "Oh no!" he gasped. "Is that why he gets like this?" "Yes," Karen nodded solemnly. "The injury causes him to have these episodes when he gets too stressed or overwhelmed. It's why he's so obsessed with the Krabby Patty formula. The pursuit of something so constant and unchanging helps him cope with the chaos in his head." Patrick's eyes widened. "But why didn't he tell me?" he murmured. "Because he's ashamed," Karen said softly. "He thinks it makes him weak. But it's just a part of who he is." Patrick looked at her, his eyes filled with sadness. "But he's not weak," he said firmly. "He's the smartest person I know." "Patrick," Karen said, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, "his mind is brilliant, yes. But he's also fragile, in ways you can't even imagine." Patrick nodded, his eyes never leaving Plankton's pale face. "I won't tell anyone," he promised, his voice barely above a whisper. Suddenly, Plankton's antennae twitched. A soft groan escaped his mouth and his eye fluttered open. He looked around the room, blinking in confusion. "Plankton?" Karen's voice was a whisper, filled with hope. The tiny plankton's antennae twitched slightly, and his eye blinked open focusing with difficulty on the concerned faces hovering over him. The room was spinning, a kaleidoscope of colors and shapes that made him nauseous. He groaned and tried to sit up, but his body felt like it was made of jelly. "Take it easy," Karen soothed, gently pushing him back down. "You've had a rough time." Plankton's eye focused on Patrick, who was still standing by the bedside looking as though he'd just seen a ghost. "What's he doing here?" he croaked. "You fainted," Karen said gently. "Patrick was just trying to help." Plankton's eye darted around the room, trying to piece together the puzzle of what had happened. The last thing he remembered was reading, then Patrick yelling, then Patrick's overwhelming embrace... A chilling sensation washed over him, a sense of déjà vu so strong it was almost tangible. He looked at Patrick, who was hovering over him like a giant, concerned balloon, and suddenly it clicked. "I remember now," Plankton murmured, his voice still shaky. "You tried to... hug me." He cringed at the thought, his antennae curling inward. "Don't ever do that again.." Patrick looked down at his tentacles, which had instinctively reached out during Plankton's episode. He pulled back. "Sorry, buddy," he mumbled. "I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable." Karen's gaze softened. "It's okay, Patrick. You couldn't have known." She turned her attention back to Plankton searching his for any signs of further distress. "How are you feeling, Plankton?" He swallowed hard, his throat dry. "T-terrible," he rasped. "But I'll be fine." His voice was laced with the stubbornness that Patrick had come to expect from him. Plankton pushed himself into a sitting position, his antennae still trembling slightly. Karen's gaze remained on him. "You sure?" she asked, voice a gentle murmur. Plankton nodded, his antennae quivering slightly as he tried to stand. His legs wobbled beneath him, and he had to grab the bedframe to steady himself. "Just... need a moment," he murmured, his voice shaking as much as his body. Patrick watched with a heavy heart as his friend struggled to regain his composure. He knew that Plankton was trying to put on a brave face, but the fear in his eye was unmistakable.

GO HONE 1/2 Karen sat in the chair next to the bed. Plankton lay there, snoring softly. They'd just finished removing his wisdom teeth. Karen rarely sees him asleep. He was a light sleeper, always had been. But here he was, mouth agape, drool pooling onto the pristine pillowcase. The nurse had said the anesthesia would wear off soon. She felt a strange mix of pity and amusement. Karen reached out to stroke his forehead. "Plankton?" Her voice was gentle, soothing. He didn't respond. His eye remained shut, but she noticed the faintest twitch of his antenna. A moment later, his eye fluttered open, unfocused. "Wheh...am I?" he mumbled, his voice slurred by the lingering effects of the drugs and numb mouth. "Karen?" "You're in the recovery room, sweetie," Karen whispered. "You just got your wisdom teeth out." The nurse walked in. "How we feeling?" Plankton looked around, his gaze unfocused, as if he wasn't quite sure where to land. "I don't know," he said, voice still thick. "Everything ish tho...big?" The nurse chuckled. "That's the anesthesia. It'll wear off in a bit. Can you tell me your name?" Plankton blinked a few times, trying to get his bearings. "Pwankton," he managed, sounding like a toddler with a mouthful of marshmallows. Karen pressed her lips together to hold back a laugh. She felt a tug at her heart, seeing this tough, competent man reduced to such a helpless state. He attempted to sit up, but his body didn't cooperate, flopping back down onto the pillows. "Whoa, wath happening?" he slurred, his eye searching the room as if looking for something familiar. His limbs felt like spaghetti noodles, and his brain was stuck in slow motion. Karen helped him adjust, pillows plumping around his head. She couldn't help but chuckle at his drunken antics. The nurse took his pulse and checked the monitors. "Everything looks good," she said. "Just rest a bit longer." "Oh boy," he muttered, a goofy smile spreading across his face. "Wook at aww tha little fishies!" Plankton's mind was clearly somewhere else entirely. Karen looked around the recovery room, but all she could see were the regular, sterile equipment and a few other patients, not a fish in sight. She couldn't help but let out a small laugh at his silliness. "You're okay," she assured him, patting his hand. "Just the meds talking." Plankton's eye grew even wider, his smile turning into a grin. "Can I pway with dem?" he asked, reaching out a shaky arm to grab at the invisible fish. The nurse looked at Karen with a knowing smile. "It's a common side effect," she assured her. "The drugs can make patients feel pretty loopy." Plankton's giggle grew louder as he continued to "catch" the nonexistent fish. His movements were clumsy, like a baby learning to use their hands for the first time. Karen watched, her heart swelling with a sudden fondness for his innocent charm. "Wook, Karen! I got one!" He held up a finger, waggling it in the air between them. "It's tho tiny!" His eye squinted as he tried to focus on his own digit, then opened wide in amazement. "And it's on my han!" He was utterly captivated by his own hand, turning it this way and that, studying it like a new discovery. Karen couldn't help but smile at his antics. "That's right, Plankton. That's your finger," she said, her voice filled with amusement. "You're doing great." The nurse took a step back, allowing Karen to interact more freely with her husband. "You can talk to him, just keep it calm and don't let him move too much," she said before checking on the other patients. Plankton's gaze followed the nurse, his eye glazed over with wonder. "Wheh's she go?" he asked, his voice innocently curious. Karen leaned in closer, her hand still in his. "She's just checking on the other people who are feeling a bit sleepy like you." He nodded solemnly, his antennas flopping to the side with the motion. "Okay, Karen," he said, as if she had explained the secrets of the universe to him. The room started to spin gently, and he giggled. "I fink I'm on a merry-go-round!" Karen's smile grew, warming the coolness of the recovery room. "No, honey, you're just a bit woozy from the surgery. You need to lie still." Plankton nodded, his grin never leaving his face. "Otay," he mumbled, his eye crossing as he tried to focus on Karen's face. "Buh ith fun!" Karen couldn't resist the urge to lean in and kiss his forehead. "You're so adorable when you're loopy," she said, her voice filled with affection. Plankton's grin grew even wider, his cheeks flushing slightly from the attention. He closed his eye and leaned into the kiss like a child seeking comfort. "Karen," he said, his voice a slurred whisper, "youw my besht fren." The tenderness in his words made her heart melt. "Always, Plankton," she said, her thumb gently brushing his palm. "Always." He sighed contentedly, his giggle subsiding into a gentle snore. His hand fell limp beside him, his fingers still slightly curled as if holding onto the invisible fish. Karen smiled, catching him. His eye fluttered open again, rousing with a snort. "Whath...?" Plankton mumbled, his gaze floating around the room. He squinted at Karen, his vision blurred. "You're okay," Karen soothed, her voice like a lullaby in the stillness of the room. "You're just coming out of the anesthesia." Plankton blinked slowly, his pupil expanding to take in the soft lights and the unfamiliar surroundings. He tried to speak, but his words came out as mumbles and squeaks. "Wha...?" Karen's screen twinkled with affection as she spoke gently, "You're in the recovery room, sweetie. You're okay." Plankton's mind was still swimming in a sea of confusion. "Buth...buth...my teef?" he managed to ask. "They're out, don't worry," Karen assured him, her laughter barely contained. "The dentist took them out." Plankton looked at her with a mix of relief and silly curiosity. "The dentish?" he asked, his voice childlike. "Wheh did the put dem?" Karen nodded, trying not to laugh. "They're gone, gotten rid of." Plankton's face scrunched up like a little kid's, trying to understand. "Buth I can't feel dem," he whined, his hand gently probing his swollen cheek. "Awe youw shure?" Karen nodded, her smile never wavering. "They're gone, I promise. You'll have to be careful with soft food for a few days." Plankton's eye lit up like a child at the mention of a treat. "Soft food? Wike ice cweam?" Karen nodded, her laughter bubbling to the surface. "Yes, like ice cream. But remember, no chewing." Plankton's face fell. "Oh, no chewing?" he asked, his voice dropping to a disappointed whine. Karen nodded firmly, trying not to laugh at his sulky pout. "No chewing," she said, her voice conciliatory. "But we can have ice cream when we get home." Plankton's expression shifted immediately, his eye sparkling with anticipation. "Wight, wight," he said, his speech slowly becoming clearer. "Ice cweam ith okay?" "Yes, ice cream is okay," Karen said, her voice steady and warm. "But we'll have to wait until we get home." Plankton's eye grew large with excitement. "Hone?" he asked, as if the word had just entered his vocabulary. "Whewe hone?" Karen nodded, keeping her tone calm. "Yes, we're going home soon." Plankton's mouth twitched into a smile. "Whewe?" he asked again, his voice rising with excitement. Karen couldn't help but laugh at his enthusiasm. "Soon, Plankton. You just need to stay awake long enough for the nurse to say you're ready." His face fell a little, but then he perked up. "Candoit!" he exclaimed, his words slurred together. He sat up. "I'm awake!" Karen had to hold back her laughter as he swayed like a ragdoll before flopping back onto the bed. "Not quite yet, Plankton," she said, patting his shoulder.

GO HONE 2/2 The nurse returned, seeing his renewed energy. "Looks like you're feeling better," she said with a smile. "But let's not rush things." Plankton nodded eagerly, his antennas bobbing. "Yeth, yeth, I'm weady!" He tried to sit up again, his body still wobbly. The nurse helped him, adjusting his pillows. "Let's see if you can stay awake for a few more minutes," she said. He looked at her with determined innocence, like a child promising not to eat cookies before dinner. "I'm weally weally weady," he insisted, his words still thick. Karen couldn't help but chuckle, watching him fight the sleepiness. "Good," the nurse said. "Keep talking to your wife, that'll help keep you alert." Plankton's eye lit up with a childlike excitement. "Ish fun to tawk to you, Karen," he said, his words still slurred. "Youw make me happy." Karen felt her heart swell. "And you make me happy," she said, her voice sincere despite his loopy state. "Even when you're being a goofball." Plankton's smile grew, his eye still half-lidded. "Goof...ball?" he repeated, the words sounding strange in his mouth. He giggled again, his body swaying slightly with the effort of staying upright. "Ish fun to be a goofball." Karen couldn't resist smiling back, his silliness was infectious. "Yes, it is," she said. "But you need to stay awake for a little longer." Plankton nodded, his head bobbing slightly. "Otay, Karen," he said, his voice still thick. He then saw the nurse. "Who's dat?" he whispered, his eye wide with curiosity. Karen chuckled softly. "That's the nurse, Plankton. Remember?" He blinked a few times, his antennas perking up as his eyes focused on the kind-faced woman. "Oh, yeah. Tha nurse lady," he slurred, his voice full of sudden realization. "Hi!" The nurse chuckled. "Hello, Mr. Plankton. You're doing great." Plankton's smile grew even wider, his cheeks flushing with pleasure. "Ish nice to meechu," he said, sleepily. "I wike youw hat.." The nurse couldn't help but laugh. "Thank you, Mr. Plankton. It's nice to meet you too." Plankton's eye began to droop again, and Karen could see the sleep trying to pull him under. "Wakey wakey, Plankton," she said, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "You have to stay with me." He nodded, his head lolling to the side before snapping back up with a jerk. "Ish okay, Karen," he whispered, his voice still slurred. "Ish okay." But his eyelid grew heavy, and his words trailed off. "Ish just...tho tiwed," he mumbled. Karen's chuckle was gentle, not wanting to disturb his attempts to stay alert. "I know, sweetie," she said, stroking his hand. "Just a few more minutes." But Plankton's eyelid was like a heavy curtain, despite his best efforts. "Whe...whe...why am I so tiwed?" he slurred, his head lolling to the side like a ragdoll's. Karen knew he wasn't going to last much longer. His hand slipped out of hers, and he began to snore softly again. Karen looked over at the nurse, who nodded in understanding. "It's normal," the nurse said. "The anesthesia can make people pretty loopy for a while." Plankton's snores grew softer, his body relaxing. Karen watched him, her expression a mix of amusement and concern. "How much longer?" she asked the nurse. "Just a little longer," the nurse said, checking his vitals again. "The effects should start to wear off soon." Plankton's snores grew softer, and then he was awake again, looking around the room with wide- eyed wonder, drool trailing from the corner of his mouth. "Whe...where...?" His voice was a sleepy whisper. "You're still in the recovery room," Karen soothed, wiping his chin with a tissue. "You fell asleep again." Plankton looked up at her, his eye wide and innocent. "Did I miss sumfing?" he asked, his voice still thick with slumber. "No, sweetie," Karen replied, her voice soothing. "You just fell asleep for a bit. You're still waking up." Plankton's antennas perked up, and he sat up. "But...but I hav ice cweam?" His eye were wide with hopeful inquiry. Karen nodded with a smile, wiping the remaining drool from his mouth. "Yes, when we get home, remember?" Plankton's grin was infectious. "Yay!" he cheered, clapping his hands together with a slightly awkward smack. Karen couldn't help but chuckle at his reaction, his childlike enthusiasm was adorable. "Looks like you're feeling better," she said, her voice filled with affection. But Plankton was already off on another tangent, his gaze wandering to the ceiling. "Whewe awe the fishies?" he asked, his voice a sleepy whisper. Karen followed his gaze, seeing the plain, white ceiling tiles. "The fishies are in your imagination, Plankton," she said, her tone gentle. He pouted, his disappointment palpable. "Oh," he murmured, his head lolling to the side. Karen chuckled, her hand still on his arm. "They'll be there when you're all better," she assured him. "But for now, let's just stay here." The nurse smiled. "Looks like our patient is feeling better," she said with a smile. "Almost ready to go home?" Plankton nodded vigorously, his antennas flopping with the motion. "Hone, yesh! Ice cweam!" His eye closed again, and he snored lightly. Karen chuckled. His excitement was adorable, even if it was short-lived. The nurse checked his vital signs. "Looks like the anesthesia's wearing off," she said with a smile. "We can get you ready to go home soon." Plankton's eyelid fluttered open. "Hone?" he asked, his voice hopeful. "Almost," Karen said, her voice calm and soothing. "Just a few more minutes." Plankton's eye closed again, his breaths deepening into sleep. His head lolled to the side, his antennas drooping. Karen watched him with love. Even in his most vulnerable state, his antics brought a warmth to the room. The nurse returned and began to prepare the discharge papers. "Almost there," she said with a wink at Karen. "He'll be right as rain in no time." Plankton stirred again, his eye half-opening to a squint. "Whe...where's my ice cweam?" he mumbled, his voice slurred with sleep. Karen chuckled. "Not until we get home, remember?" Plankton's head nodded, his antennas bobbing. "Oh yeah," he mumbled, his voice dreamily content. The nurse finished up the paperwork and turned to Karen. "We're all set. Just make sure he gets plenty of rest and eats soft foods for the next few days." Plankton's eye shot open, his antennas springing to attention. "Ice cweam?" he asked, his voice hopeful. Karen laughed, shaking her head. "When we get home, remember?" He pouted, his lower lip sticking out like a sulky child's. "But I'm so tiwed," he whined. "Tiwed of being tiwed." Karen couldn't help but smile at his usual stubbornness. "You just had surgery," she reminded him gently. "Your body needs to recover." Plankton's eye grew large, and he nodded slowly. "Oh yeah," he said, his voice trailing off. "But...but I wan' ice cweam..." He faltered as Karen holds him up. The nurse chuckled and handed Karen the papers. "It's all normal, he's just loopy from the meds. He'll be fine once he's home." Karen nodded, her expression a mix of concern and affection. Plankton's head lolled back onto her shoulder, his eye drooping again. "Ice...cweam?" he mumbled. "As soon as we get home, I promise," she whispered. His body relaxed into her, his breathing evening out into a gentle snore. The nurse helped Karen maneuver the sleeping Plankton into a wheelchair, his legs still not fully cooperating. "Just a precaution," she said with a wink. "Better safe than sorry." The cool air of the hallway hit him like a wave, and Plankton's eye popped open. "Whe...?" he mumbled, looking around confused. "It's okay, we're going home," Karen said, pushing the wheelchair through the hospital's sliding doors. The sun was shining, and the brightness made him blink. Plankton squinted, his eye trying to adjust to the light. "Home?" he asked, his voice still thick with sleep. "Ice cweam?" Karen chuckled, nodding. "Yes, home. And yes, ice cream." She pushed him out into the parking lot, the sun glinting off the cars. Plankton was still groggy, his antennas waving slightly as if trying to keep time with his thoughts. The ride home was quiet, Plankton's snores punctuating the gentle hum of the engine. Karen couldn't help but glance over at him, his mouth slightly open, his face peaceful in sleep. She felt a wave of tenderness wash over her. When they finally pulled up to their house, the sight of their familiar surroundings seemed to revive Plankton. "Whe...we're hone?" he asked, his voice groggy. Karen nodded. "Yes, we're home," she said, her tone filled with relief. "Time for that ice cream."

A TOOTHY STORY pt. 2 The room is quiet except for the occasional slosh of the saline and the whirring of the chair's recline. Karen watches as the nurse, Nina, applies gauze to the newly-emptied sockets where the teeth once were. The redness is stark against Plankton's slackened face. His snores are deep and even, his antennae resting limply on the chair's headrest. The doctor, Dr. Marlin, gives her a thumbs-up, a silent assurance that everything went according to plan. Karen feels a weight lift from her shoulders. The procedure is over, and Plankton is safe. His breathing continues, the anesthesia still keeping him in its gentle embrace of peaceful slumber. Nina turns to her with a sympathetic smile. "It's normal for patients to feel a bit groggy once they wake up. Sometimes they're a bit disoriented. It's like coming out of a deep sleep. It's normal if today he seems a little out of it. Bleeding and brushing are to be expected, and swelling is normal." "But he'll be okay?" Karen asks, her voice shaking. "More than okay," Dr. Marlin assures her, "Just follow the aftercare instructions and he'll be back to his usual self in no time. Just remember, no solid foods for a few days, lots of fluids, and keep those ice packs handy." Nina adds, "Keep an eye on him. He might be a bit forgetful, or say some funny things. It's just the anesthesia wearing off. Nothing to worry about." As they wheel Plankton into recovery, Karen watches his chest rise and fall with each breath. Nina, the nurse, explains, "The numbness is normal, it's the local anesthesia wearing off. It can feel weird, but don't worry, it'll fade. As for sleepiness, it's just the body recovering from the anesthesia. He might be a bit wobbly on your feet or have some difficulty speaking because of the numbness. Just take it slow, okay? Yet you can talk to him right now while he wakes if you'd like, even if he doesn't fully understand you yet." Karen nods, leaning in close to her husband's. "It's over, Plankton," she murmurs. "You did great. Just a little bit more sleep and then we'll go home." Plankton's breaths are slow and steady, his body still under the anesthesia's spell. The recovery room is dimly lit. The nurse, Nina, keeps a close eye on Plankton as Karen sits beside him, her hand resting on his arm. She's always been there for him, a constant source of comfort in the face of fear. The receptionist from earlier, Becky, comes in to check on Plankton, her face still cheerful despite the early hour. "How's our patient?" she asks Karen, glancing at the monitors that track his recovery. Plankton's chest rises and falls steadily, his snores punctuating the quiet. Karen smiles weakly. "He's still out of it." Becky nods. "That's normal. The anesthesia takes a little while to wear off. He'll wake up soon enough. You can talk to him if you'd like. Sometimes it helps to hear familiar voices." Karen looks down at Plankton's peaceful face. "You're going to be okay, sweetheart," she says softly. "Just a little longer, and then we'll go home. No more worrying." A line of drool starts to trickle from the corner of Plankton's numb mouth. It's a sight Karen's seen before, but only during his deepest slumbers. She reaches for a tissue and gently dabs at the saliva pooling, his body still under the sedative's grip. She cannot help but feel a twinge of pity for his vulnerable state, despite his snoring. The drool slowly starts to form a tiny river on the chair, a silent testament to the depth of his sleep. Karen wipes it away, knowing he'd be embarrassed if he were conscious of the sight. The nurse, Nina, checks his vitals, satisfied with his progress. "You can sit him up now," she says. "Just make sure he's actually awake before we get him walking." Karen carefully turns Plankton's chair with the lever, which gently guides his sleeping body upright. As the chair moves, Plankton's snoring changes pitch, his head lolling slightly. Karen smiles despite herself, his vulnerability endearing. Gently, she cups his cheek guiding his head back up. "Don't worry, Plankton. Almost time to go home," she says, her voice soft as a morning lullaby.

PATRICK PLANKTON 3/4 (NEURODIVERGENT AUTHOR) "Here," he said, awkwardly offering a tentacle to help Plankton to his feet. "Let me help you." But Plankton slapped his hand away, his shivering growing more intense. "No," he whispered, his voice barely audible. His body was a wreck of tremors, his tiny frame visibly struggling to hold itself upright. Patrick looked at Karen, his eyes pleading for guidance. Karen nodded gently, understanding the unspoken question. "Just give him some space," she whispered back. The tension in the room was palpable as Patrick took a step back, his tentacles retracting into his body. Plankton's shivering grew worse, his tiny frame seemingly shrinking before their eyes. He wrapped his arms around himself, his legs giving out beneath him. Before Karen could even react, Patrick's instincts took over. He lunged forward, catching Plankton in his strong, star-shaped embrace, preventing him from hitting the cold metal floor. The impact was jarring, but Patrick's concern for his friend outweighed any discomfort he might have felt. "Whoa, buddy," he murmured, his tentacles embracing Plankton's shoulders. "You ok?" Karen watched the scene unfold with a mix of surprise and admiration for the starfish's intuitive care. "P-Patrick," Plankton stuttered, his body still convulsing slightly. Patrick's eyes searched Plankton's face for any sign of pain or discomfort, his tentacles tightening around his friend's shaking body. "It's ok," he murmured, his voice soothing despite the fear that was knotting his insides. "You just had a little episode, but you're ok now." Plankton's body stiffened, his antennae sticking straight out in alarm. "What are you doing?" he hissed, his voice a mix of anger and fear. "Just trying to help," Patrick said, his eyes filled with genuine concern. "You're shaking, and I don't want you to fall." Plankton's antennae drooped, the fight draining from him. "I..." he murmured, wanting to escape Patrick's grasp. But Patrick held firm. "You lean on Karen, yet it's ok to lean on someone else too." Plankton's eye searched the room, desperate to find a way out of this embarrassing situation. "I-I don't need..." But his protests were cut short by a wave of dizziness that washed over him. His legs buckled. "Let me go," he whispered, his voice trembling with a mix of anger and fear. Patrick's tentacles tightened around Plankton slightly, but he didn't let go. "You need to relax," he said softly. "Just breathe." Plankton's shivering grew worse, his teeth chattering like a typewriter on overdrive. "Can't... can't breathe," he managed to get out. Karen stepped in, her eyes filled with a mix of concern and understanding. "Plankton," she said, her voice calm and even, "you need to relax. You're safe." "But he's..." Plankton's protests were cut off by another tremor that rippled through his body. "I know, buddy," Patrick said gently. "But sometimes we all need a little help, even if we don't want to admit it." "Get. Off. Me!" he spat, his voice filled with a desperation that made Patrick's heart ache. But Patrick didn't move. He just held Plankton closer. "You're safe. I just don't want you to..." Plankton's tremors grew more violent, and his eye rolled back into his head again. His tiny body convulsed in Patrick's arms, his antennae flailing wildly. "Patrick, let go!" Karen's voice was sharp with fear. "You're making it worse!" Patrick's tentacles loosened their grip, and Plankton slumped back onto the bed, his body still quivering uncontrollably. Karen's robotic hands moved with surprising gentleness as she tucked him in, scanning his form for any sign of injury. "It's okay," she whispered, her voice a soothing hum. "You're safe now." Patrick hovered nearby, his heart racing. He didn't know what to say or do to make things right. The sight of his friend in such distress was more than he could bear. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his tentacles wringing in his hands. "I didn't mean to..." But Plankton's shivering had stopped, his body going slack. His antennae had dropped to his side, and his single eye was closed. Karen checked his pulse again, her expression unreadable. "He's okay," she said finally, her voice a mix of relief and exhaustion. "Just needs to rest." Patrick hovered by the bedside, feeling helpless. "What can I do?" he asked, his tentacles twitching with the need to help in some way. Karen looked up at him, her expression a mix of gratitude and weariness. "Just be here," she murmured. "And maybe... maybe don't touch him again." Patrick nodded solemnly, his tentacles drooping in defeat. "Okay," he murmured. "I'll just stay." He watched as Karen continued to monitor Plankton's condition, her mechanical movements a stark contrast to the tender way she treated her husband. The silence in the room was heavy with unspoken words and fear. "I had no idea," Patrick whispered, his gaze never leaving Plankton's still form. "It's not something he talks about," Karen said gently. "But you should know. Plankton's episodes are often triggered by sudden movements, loud noises, or physical contact." Patrick nodded, his gaze still on Plankton. "I didn't mean to scare him," he said softly. Karen's eyes met his, filled with understanding. "I know, Patrick," she said. "But you have to understand, Plankton's condition makes him sensitive to certain things." Patrick nodded slowly, his gaze never leaving Plankton's face. "What exactly are triggers?" he asked, his voice a low murmur. "Well," Karen began, her voice taking on the tone of a teacher explaining a complex concept, "triggers are basically anything that sets off Plankton's condition. They can be anything from a sudden sound to someone touching him without warning. It's like his brain gets overstimulated and shuts down to protect itself." Patrick listened intently, his eyes never leaving Plankton's still form. "So, I shouldn't..." Karen interrupted gently, "you shouldn't surprise him, especially with physical contact." Patrick nodded, his tentacles stilling as he took in the gravity of the situation. He had never thought about how his actions could affect someone in such a profound way. "How can I help then?" he asked, his voice small. "Just be there," Karen said, her hand patting his shoulder. "Talk to him, keep things calm. And if he starts to get overwhelmed, just let him be. Sometimes, that's all he needs." Patrick nodded, taking in her words. He knew he wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, but he could do this. Be there for his friend without smothering him. He could be that rock that Plankton could lean on without crushing him. "Okay," he murmured, "I can do that." Karen turned her attention back to Plankton, her robotic eyes scanning his body for any signs of improvement. "He's resting now," she said, her voice a soft whisper. "But he might be irritable when he wakes up." Patrick nodded, his gaze never leaving his friend. "What can I do to make sure he doesn't get to upset?" he asked, his tentacles twitching with anxiety. "Look for signs," Karen said. "If his antennae start to twitch, or he seems distant it might be time to give him some space." Patrick nodded, his eyes searching Plankton for any signs of distress. He didn't want to cause his friend any more pain, especially after seeing him like this. "What else?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "Look at his breathing," Karen instructed, her gaze focused on Plankton's chest rising and falling in slow, shallow movements. "If it gets rapid or erratic, he's likely overwhelmed." Patrick nodded, watching intently as Plankton's chest moved with each breath. "Ok" he murmured, "I'll keep an eye on that." Karen's gaze softened, looking up at the starfish. "It's more than just that, Patrick," she said gently. "It's about understanding him, knowing what sets him off." Patrick nodded, his eyes focused on Plankton. "So, what are the signs?" Karen paused, considering her words carefully. "Well, it's like reading a book," she began. "You have to pay attention to the little things, the subtle cues that tell you how he's feeling." "Subtle cues?" he repeated, his brow furrowed in concentration. "Yes," Karen nodded. "Like how he reacts when you touch him. Sometimes, it can be soothing. Other times, it can be overwhelming." She paused, her eyes scanning Plankton's form for any signs of distress. "It's all about reading his cues." Patrick leaned in closer, his tentacles stilling. "How do know if it's helping or hurting, or what type of touching?" "It's different for everyone with his condition," Karen explained, still on Plankton's sleeping form. "But for Plankton, it's usually about pressure." Patrick's eyes widened. "What do you mean?" Karen demonstrated with her robotic arm, applying gentle pressure to Patrick's shoulder. "Like this," she whispered. "Soft, comforting touches can help him feel grounded." Patrick tentatively reached out with a tentacle, mimicking the light touch. He watched as Plankton's sleeping body tensed for a moment before relaxing slightly. "Is that ok?" he asked, his voice barely above a murmur. "Just keep it gentle," Karen reminded him, her eyes still on her husband. "And pay attention to his reactions."

PATRICK PLANKTON 4/4 (NEURODIVERGENT AUTHOR) Patrick nodded, his tentacle hovering above Plankton's shoulder. He was about to touch him again when Karen spoke up. "Remember, Patrick," she said, her voice a soft hum, "it's all about his comfort. If he seems tense or pulls away, you know to ease off." Patrick nodded, his tentacle poised in the air ready to offer comfort without causing more distress. "Okay," he murmured his eyes never leaving Plankton's peaceful, if slightly troubled, face. "Soft and gentle.." "Yes," Karen said. "And if he flinches or seems more uncomfortable, I know to stop immediately." Patrick nodded solemnly retreating. "I don't wanna worsen," he whispered. "You won't," Karen assured him. "Just remember, Plankton's condition isn't your fault. And he's lucky to have a friend like you who cares enough to learn." Patrick nodded, his tentacles stilling as he absorbed the information. He looked down at his massive starfish body, feeling clumsy and awkward next to Plankton's frail frame. "How do I know if I'm touching him the right way?" he asked, his voice tentative. "Just watch for his reactions," Karen instructed, her robotic eyes flickering as she observed Plankton's peaceful expression. "If he relaxes, you're doing it right. If not, you're doing too much." Patrick nodded, his tentacles hovering anxiously. "But how do I show him interest and care, without touching?" Karen considered his question, her robotic brain processing. "Words can be powerful, too," she said finally. "Ask him about his day, what he's been working on. Show genuine interest in his life." Patrick nodded, his tentacles retracting slightly. "I can do that," he murmured. "Plankton enjoys talking about his inventions," Karen began. "He finds solace in the predictability of science and engineering. It's his way of making sense of the world." Patrick nodded, his gaze thoughtful. "So, I should ask him about his latest gizmo?" "Exactly," Karen said with a small smile. "And listen, really listen to what he has to say. It's his way of sharing his world with you." Patrick nodded, his eyes reflecting his determination to be a better friend. "Instead of physical affection, what else might he like to show I care?" he asked eager to learn more. "Plankton's quite fond of his pet, Spot," Karen said, her voice a mix of fondness and amusement. "You could offer to help play with Spot, or even bring a little treat for him." Patrick's eyes lit up at the mention of the tiny amoeba puppy. "Really?" he asked, his tentacles unfurling slightly. "Yes," Karen said with a smile, "Spot is a source of great comfort to him, they enjoy each other." She paused, considering. Patrick's tentacles began to twitch with excitement. "Could you get Spot?" he asked, his voice hopeful. "Maybe having Spot here would help him feel better when he wakes up." Karen's smile grew. "That's a wonderful idea, Patrick," she said, and glided out of the room, to get Spot. Plankton's antennae twitched, and his eye began to flutter open. "Wha..." Karen returned with Spot in tow, the little amoeba wagging its tail. She placed the small creature gently on the bed with Plankton. "Look who's here to see you," she said, voice a gentle coo. Plankton's antennae perked up at the sight of his little amoeba bounced over. Patrick watched as the tiny creature brought a rare smile to Plankton's face. "Hey, bud," Plankton murmured. Spot in Plankton's arms, licking his face with its tiny, slimy tongue. Plankton giggled. "Good boy," he murmured, his antennae twitching with delight. The sight of Spot's excitement seemed to ease some of the tension in his body. Patrick watched from the side, his tentacles twitching with the desire to join in the moment of levity. He knew he had to tread carefully, but he also knew Plankton's smile was worth it. "How about we play a game? Spot can come too." he suggested, voice soft and tentative. Karen nodded, her smile genuine. "That's a great idea. Plankton loves a good trivia game." Patrick's eyes lit up. "I know just the thing!" He dashed out of the room and returned with a battered old board game titled "Bikini Bottom Brainiac Challenge." "This is perfect," Karen said, her voice filled with relief. She knew how much Plankton enjoyed a good intellectual showdown. Patrick set up the game with shaky tentacles, and Plankton's antennae twitched with curiosity and eagerness. "What's the rules?" Plankton asked, his voice still a little raspy from his episode. He's still holding Spot. "Simple," Patrick said, his tentacles steady as he unfolded the board. "We take turns answering trivia questions. If you get one right, you move forward. If not you go back." Plankton's antennae wiggled with excitement. "I've got this," he declared, his competitive spirit briefly overriding his exhaustion. "Let's start with an easy one," Karen suggested, her robotic voice filled with a motherly concern. Patrick nodded, picking up a card. "Alright, Plankton," he began, his tone light, "who invented the telephone?" Plankton's antennae shot up. "Alexander Clam Bell," he said with a smug smile, and Spot barked in excitement. Karen chuckled. "Correct," she said, moving his game piece forward. "Patrick's question." Plankton pulled a card from the pile, his tentacles shaking slightly. "Okay," he said, "who was the first sea creature to walk on land?" Patrick thought for a moment, his tentacles tapping the side of his head. "I know this one," he exclaimed. "It was..." He paused, trying to remember the name from one of Mr. Krabs' many history lessons. "Gilligan!" Karen's robotic laugh filled the room. "I'm afraid not, Patrick. It was actually the first amphibian, not a sea creature, who walked on land." Plankton rolled his eye. "It's okay, Patrick. It was a good guess," he said, his tone kinder than the usual sarcasm. Patrick chuckled, feeling a bit silly. "Alright, I'll work on my history," he said, moving his piece back. "Your turn, Karen." The game continued, the tension in the room slowly dissipating with each question and laugh. Plankton's eye lit up with each answer he knew, his antennae waving with excitement. The simple act of playing together brought a sense of normalcy to the situation. Karen's questions were more science-based, which Plankton devoured. "What is the chemical composition of seawater?" she asked, her robotic eyes gleaming with challenge. "Easy," Plankton said, his voice growing stronger with each word. "It's mostly sodium chloride with traces of other salts and minerals." Patrick watched as Plankton's confidence grew with every correct answer, his antennae standing tall. The game was a balm to his friend's frazzled nerves, a gentle reminder of the Plankton he knew before the meltdown. "Your turn," he said. Karen's question was about the ocean's currents, and Plankton felt a twinge of excitement. "Oh, I know this one," he exclaimed. "It's all about the Coriolis Effect is what makes the water spin in different directions in the northern and southern hemispheres!" Patrick nodded, his tentacles twirling with enthusiasm. "Wow, Plankton, you're really good at this!" But as he went to roll the dice, his excitement got the better of him. The dice slipped from his grasp, bouncing straight Plankton's open eye. Plankton yelped in pain. Patrick's tentacles froze mid-air, his eyes wide with horror. "Oh no!" he exclaimed, reaching out to help his friend. But Plankton was already recoiling, his antennae flailing as he clutched his eye. "Ow!!" Patrick's heart sank. "I'm so sorry!" he exclaimed, reaching out to comfort his friend. But Plankton was already on the defensive, arms swiping at the air as if trying to swat away the pain, his eye watering. Patrick's tentacles retreated immediately, the gravity of his mistake weighing heavy on him. "I didn't mean to," he said, his voice tight with regret. "I'm sorry, Plankton." Plankton's eye watered, and he blinked rapidly, trying to clear the pain. Karen's eyes went wide with alarm, and she was at his side in an instant. "Plankton?" Plankton rubs his eye with his tiny hand. "Just... just give me a moment." Patrick gets a small bag of ice with a cool cloth. "Here," he says, holding it out tentatively. "Cold might help Plankton.." Plankton's eye is still red and watery, but he takes the ice pack. "Thanks," he mumbles placing the cool compress on his eye. After a few moments, he lets out a sigh. "It's ok," he says, his voice a mix of pain and annoyance. "It may bruise." Patrick looks at him with a mix of relief and guilt. "Are you sure you're ok?" he asks, his tentacles hovering. "Yes!" Plankton exclaimed, antennae shooting up. He winced as he tried to open the eye fully, but the pain was too much. "But I can handle it," he said through gritted teeth. Plankton took a deep breath, the silence in the room thick with the sting of pain. He knew he had to say something, to apologize for how he treated Patrick. "Look," he began, gruff but sincere. "Sorry if I've been a bit... much.." Patrick's tentacles twitched with emotion. "It's ok, Plankton," he said, his voice thick. "I just didn't know how to help." "You're trying," Plankton said, antennae dropping slightly. "And that's more than anyone else has ever done, other than Karen and Spot of course." Plankton's antennae twitched, his voice a little softer than usual. "You're just to... to enthusiastic for me most times." Patrick nodded. "I'll be more careful," he murmured. Karen looked at him with a mix of gratitude and pity. "Patrick, it's not your fault," she said. "Plankton's condition is complex, and even I struggle to sometimes. Plankton's not like everyone else. He needs his space, his quiet and his routines." Patrick nodded, his tentacles drooping slightly. "I'll do better," he said, earnest.

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 𝟷.𝟶𝟼ᴋ At the Neptune Medical Center, Karen parks the car and goes with her husband Plankton into the building after an injury to his antenna. "I still don't see why you didn't press charges against Krabs, Sheldon," Karen sighs, as they walk through the gleaming, sterile corridors of the medical center. "Karen I'm not gonna give him the satisfaction." Plankton's antenna now hangs limp and damaged. The doctor had assured him it was a simple repair job, yet Plankton's nerves were as frayed as the antenna itself. They enter the reception area, the automatic doors whispering shut behind them, as if sealing off the outside world's chaos. The smell of antiseptic fills the air, mingling with the faint scent of fear and hope. The receptionist, a young squid with a friendly smile, looks up from her computer screen. "Mr. Plankton, your appointment is with Dr. Marlin, the antenna specialist," she says, her tentacles typing efficiently. "You can go straight to the third floor, room 304." The elevator ride is silent, save for the rhythmic ding of each passing floor. Karen notices his distant gaze and squeezes his arm reassuringly. "You'll be fine, Sheldon," she whispers. Plankton nods. They arrive at room 304, and Karen opens the door, revealing a state-of-the-art examination room. Dr. Marlin, an octopus with a gleaming scalpel in one tentacle and a clipboard in another, looks up from his notes. "Ah, Mr. Sheldon Plankton, right on time," he says, his eight eyes blinking in unison. "I understand you've had a bit of an injury?" Plankton nods, his voice tight. "Krabs... he... snapped it." Dr. Marlin's tentacles twitch in concern. "Mr. Eugene Krabs, eh? He's had his share of accidents around here." He scribbles something on the clipboard. "Well, let's get you fixed up. I've seen worse, and you're in good hands." The doctor leads Plankton to the examination chair, which is surprisingly comfortable for someone so tiny. He adjusts the chair's height and angles the light to shine on the antenna. Plankton winces as the doctor gently prods the damaged area. "It's definitely snapped," Dr. Marlin says, his voice calm and professional. "But the good news is, it's not to far gone. We can repair it with a simple procedure." "You'll need to be under for this," he explains. "It's nothing to worry about. You'll be out Before you know it." Plankton's heart races as he lies back in the chair, the cold metal pressing against his back. He glances at Karen, who gives him a forced smile, her screen filled with concern. The doctor notices and pats his shoulder reassuringly. "It's just a little sleep," he says. "You'll be back in no time." Karen reaches for his hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. The anesthesiologist, a bluefish with a gentle demeanor, enters the room, pushing a trolley with a variety of bottles and tubes. She introduces herself as Nurse Bella and explains that she'll be administering the anesthesia for the surgery. Plankton swallows hard, eye darting from her to Karen's screen and back again. Karen's gaze follows the anesthesiologist, Nurse Bella, as she meticulously prepares. "Ready? Count as high as you can," she asks, her voice as soft as a lullaby. Plankton nods, his grip on Karen's hand tightening. "One... two... three..." Plankton's voice starts strong, but the medicine's effect begins to take hold. His eyelid grow heavy, and the numbers begin to slur. Karen watches as Plankton's count descends into a whisper. "Five... six... sev..." His tiny hand relaxes in hers, and his body goes slack. She watches the rise and fall of his chest slow as he succumbs to the anesthesia. Karen squeezes his hand one last time. The door to the exam room opens again, and Dr. Marlin's head pokes out. "Everything's gone well," Dr. Marlin says, peering over his mask. "We're to halt anesthesia." "You're okay," Karen whispers, her voice cracking. "You're okay." "He's doing great," the nurse whispers. "You can talk to him if you'd like. Sometimes they can hear you." Karen leans closer, her voice low and soothing. "Hey, Plankton, it's Karen. You're safe now. They've fixed your antenna. No more pain, okay?" Her thoughts are interrupted by a soft groan from the bed. Karen's screen snap to Plankton, who's beginning to stir under the blankets. "Shh," she whispers, stroking his arm. "You're safe." "K...Karen?" His eye opens. "Yes, it's me. You're okay, you're in the hospital. They've fixed your antenna." "Karen... antenna... Krabby Patty... wait, what?" He giggles, the words jumbling together in a way that makes no sense. Plankton's eye widen with childlike excitement. "Oh, right! The antenna!" He tries to touch the bandage but ends up nearly slapping himself in the face with his own arm. "Oops!" He giggles again, the sound echoing through the quiet room. He tries to sit up, but cannot. "Whoa, Nelly!" "Easy," Karen laughs. "I'm the king of the jellyfish prom! They got no flair!" Once in the car, Karen buckles him in with care, double-checking the seatbelt. "Remember, no funny business," she warns. Plankton's eye droop, and his head lolls to the side. "You're going to sleep, aren't you?" she says, her voice a mix of amusement and exhaustion. "M'not sleeping," Plankton mumbles, his eyelid fluttering, his voice fading into a snore. The drive home is peaceful, with Plankton snoring lightly beside her. As they approach their place, she gently shakes him awake. "We're home, Sheldon," she says, her voice gentle. "Can you wake up for me?" Plankton's eye blink open, and he looks around in confusion. "Home?" he mumbles. "Already?" Karen nods with a smirk. "Yeah, you slept through the whole drive. Came out of it just in time." They get out of the car, and Plankton wobbles slightly on his legs, the after-effects of the anesthesia still lingering. Karen wraps an arm around his waist, supporting him as they make their way to the front door. With a chuckle, Karen helps him inside, the warm light of their living room washing over them. Plankton's snores become more pronounced as they move through the hallway. "Come on, you need to get to bed," she says, leading him to their bedroom. The room is cozy, with a large bed that seems to swallow Plankton whole as he collapses into it. Karen carefully pulls the covers up to his chin. "Rest now," she whispers, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead.

Plankton found himself in a sticky situation. In his haste, he collided with a submerged rock, and with a painful snap, one of his antennae broke dangling in half. His computer wife Karen took him to a clinic. The receptionist, a kind octopus named Tentacla, took his information and assured Dr. Dolittlefish would see him shortly. "Plankton?" Dr. Dolittlefish called out, his voice echoing through the room. Plankton walked in, Karen trailing behind. The doctor examined the fractured antenna. Plankton winced, feeling a sharp pain as the doctor prods it gently. Dr. Dolittlefish chuckled, "We'll need to perform a repair, and for that, you'll need a touch of anesthesia. It'll make you feel like you're floating on a cloud.." Plankton's one good antenna perked up with interest. "A magical elixir that will put you into a state of deep relaxation," Dr. Dolittlefish explained, his eyes twinkling behind his spectacles. "You'll be completely unaware of the surgery. We give you a little dose to make you drowsy. It's like sinking into a warm, bubble bath after a long day of plotting. Trust me, you'll wake up with a fixed antenna and no memories of the procedure. It's like a nap that'll keep you unconscious and pain-free throughout the operation. It's tailored for each patient, so you'll only get what you need." Turning to Karen, who had been quietly observing the exchange, the doctor said, "Karen, if you have any concerns, feel free to ask. Your husband's safety is my top priority. I'll be sure to take into account." Karen sighed, her circuits whirring as she searched for the right words. "Well, Plankton has always had trouble with deep sleep. He's a bit of a light sleeper, you see. Even the slightest disturbance and he's up for the day. It's hard for him to get to sleep." The doctor nodded, scribbling more notes. "I see," he said thoughtfully. "That does add a layer of complexity to the anesthesia. We'll need to be precise with the dosage to ensure he remains asleep throughout the surgery without any complications. We'll use the lightest touch possible and administer the anesthesia in a way that minimizes discomfort." Dr. Dolittlefish turned to Plankton. "Now, when you wake up, it'll be like coming out of a delightful dream. You'll feel a bit groggy, like you've just emerged from a particularly long nap. You might be a tad disoriented, but that's perfectly normal. Your body will be feeling the effects of the medication wearing off, so it's crucial that you rest for a while in our recovery area." Plankton's eye searched Karen', looking for reassurance. She nodded firmly, gripping his tiny hand. "You'll be okay, Plankton. I'll be right here." The doctor nodded. "Karen, you can accompany him into the surgery room. But remember, you'll have to go and stay outside once the actual procedure begins." The next day, Plankton and Karen returned to the clinic, feeling a mix of anxiety and hope. The lobby was filled with various sea creatures, all waiting for their appointments with their own assortment of woes and ailments. "Come on, Plankton," Karen urged, her voice steady. "You've got this." Dr. Dolittlefish took his place at the head of the operating table, a serious look on his face. "Alright, Plankton," he said, his voice steady, "It's time for the anesthesia. This might feel a bit strange, but remember, it's just like drifting off to sleep." With a flick of his fin, he administered the first dose through a small tube connected to a bubble filled with the sedative. The bubble popped, and Plankton felt a warm sensation spread through his body. It started in his toes and traveled up to his antennae, making them feel weightless. His eye grew heavier, and he couldn't help but let out a sigh. The room began to spin gently, the sounds around him becoming muffled, like the distant hum of a lullaby sung by the ocean currents. He felt himself sinking into the chair, the cushions seemingly made of the softest sea foam. "How do you feel?" Dr. Dolittlefish's voice was a comforting murmur. "Woozy," Plankton slurred, his eyelid fluttering. The room was a blur of lights and colors, like a kaleidoscope of bubbles. The pain in his antenna was fading, replaced by a pleasant numbness. Karen squeezed his hand tightly, her grip the only solid thing in his swirling world. She watched him closely, her LED eyes full of worry. "It's ok, Plankton," she murmured. "You're going to be fine." The doctor nodded to her encouragement. "I want you to count backwards from one hundred ok?" Plankton, already feeling the warm embrace of the anesthesia, began his count with a lazy sensation. "One hundred... ninety-nine... ninety-eight..." His voice grew softer with each number, the digits slipping away like grains of sand through his tiny fingers. The world around him grew fuzzy, like a TV show losing signal. The lights above looked like distant stars, their brightness dimming as he descended into the abyss of unconsciousness. "...eighty-four... eighty-three... eighty-two..." His eye now half-closed, the surgery room's noises melding into a symphony of comforting whispers. The gentle sway of the seaweed outside the clinic's windows seemed to be rocking him to sleep. His voice grew more faint, words slurring together. Karen watched him count, her gaze never leaving his face. She could feel his hand loosening in hers, his grip becoming as light as a feather. Each number he uttered was a step closer to the surgery that would hopefully restore his antenna to its former glory. The count grew slower, like a snail on a leisurely stroll across the ocean floor. His voice was a mere murmur, the words barely discernible. Karen could see his tiny chest rising and falling in a slow, rhythmic pattern, his breathing growing deeper and more relaxed with each passing moment. The colors around them bled into one another, creating a dreamlike landscape. The lights above danced like jellyfish in a moonlit lagoon, casting eerie shadows across the gleaming surgical instruments. Plankton's eye fully closed now, his count barely a whisper. Each word was a soft ripple in the vast ocean of sleep that was consuming him. The whirring of the machines and the occasional splash of water seemed to fade into the background, replaced by the steady rhythm of his breathing. Karen watched, her heart swelling with love and fear as she listened to the dwindling numbers. Plankton's voice was now a faint echo, his body going slack. The room was still, save for the hypnotic pulse of the anesthesia bubbles and Plankton's shallow breaths. Karen held her own breath, her screen never leaving his face. His count grew quieter still, each number a soft, barely perceptible sigh. Karen felt the tension in her limbs ease as she watched the lines of worry on Plankton's forehead smooth out. His sleep was finally deep and peaceful, the anesthesia working its magic. "Thirty-four... thirty-three..." His voice was a mere ripple in the vast sea of quiet that filled the room. The last number slipped away, and Plankton's count stopped, his breathing deep and even. Karen felt the weight of his hand in hers, a silent testament to his complete surrender to the anesthesia's embrace. She watched Plankton's chest rise and fall with each steady breath, his body utterly relaxed with his eye sealed shut slightly. The surgery room, once a cacophony of fear and doubt, was now a sanctuary of peace, the only sounds the rhythmic beep of the heart monitor and Plankton's soft snores. The doctor nodded, satisfied with the sedation's effect. "Alright, Karen, he finally fell asleep," he whispered, patting Plankton's shoulder. "Now, we'll proceed with the actual procedure." Karen swallowed hard, nodding her head. She had never seen Plankton so vulnerable, but she knew this was for the best. "I'll be right outside," she said, her voice wavering slightly. She leaned in and kissed Plankton's forehead before letting go. With a final squeeze of his hand, she reluctantly let go and went towards the door. The doctor nodded in understanding, his eyes focused on the delicate task ahead. As the door slid shut with a soft hiss, Karen found herself in the stark, sterile waiting room. The walls were lined with sea-themed art, an attempt to provide comfort in a place filled with uncertainty and anxiety. She hovered over to the plush sea sponge chair, the material reminding her of home. Her tentacles wrapped around the phone, her movements deliberate and precise as she dialed the numbers. The first call was to Spongebob, she knew he would want to know about the accident. The line rang, and she hoped he'd pick up. "Karen?" "Spongebob, it's about Plankton," she began, her voice trembling. "He's had an accident, and he's in surgery now." "Oh no!" Sponge Bob exclaimed, his bubbly enthusiasm dimming. "Can I talk to Plankton during the surgery?" "No, they put Plankton to sleep," Karen explained, her tentacles gripping the phone tightly. "But I'll let him know you called as soon as he wakes up." "Thank you, Karen," SpongeBob said, his voice filled with genuine concern. "Tell him I'm thinking of him." The receptionist, Tentacla, noticed her distress and swam over. "Is everything okay?" she asked, her tentacles poised to offer comfort or assistance. "It's just... I've never seen him like this," Karen admitted, her voice wavering. "So... vulnerable." Tentacla nodded sympathetically, her tentacles reaching out to pat Karen's arm. "It's tough, I know. But Dr. Dolittlefish is the best in the business. Plankton's in good fins."

ANTENNAE i Plankton found himself in a sticky situation. In his haste, he collided with a submerged rock, and with a painful snap, one of his antennae broke dangling in half. His computer wife Karen took him to a clinic. The receptionist, a kind octopus named Tentacla, took his information and assured Dr. Dolittlefish would see him shortly. "Plankton?" Dr. Dolittlefish called out, his voice echoing through the room. Plankton walked in, Karen trailing behind. The doctor examined the fractured antenna. Plankton winced, feeling a sharp pain as the doctor prods it gently. Dr. Dolittlefish chuckled, "We'll need to perform a repair, and for that, you'll need a touch of anesthesia. It'll make you feel like you're floating on a cloud.." Plankton's one good antenna perked up with interest. "A magical elixir that will put you into a state of deep relaxation," Dr. Dolittlefish explained, his eyes twinkling behind his spectacles. "You'll be completely unaware of the surgery. We give you a little dose to make you drowsy. It's like sinking into a warm, bubble bath after a long day of plotting. Trust me, you'll wake up with a fixed antenna and no memories of the procedure. It's like a nap that'll keep you unconscious and pain-free throughout the operation. It's tailored for each patient, so you'll only get what you need." Turning to Karen, who had been quietly observing the exchange, the doctor said, "Karen, if you have any concerns, feel free to ask. Your husband's safety is my top priority. I'll be sure to take into account." Karen sighed, her circuits whirring as she searched for the right words. "Well, Plankton has always had trouble with deep sleep. He's a bit of a light sleeper, you see. Even the slightest disturbance and he's up for the day. It's hard for him to get to sleep." The doctor nodded, scribbling more notes. "I see," he said thoughtfully. "That does add a layer of complexity to the anesthesia. We'll need to be precise with the dosage to ensure he remains asleep throughout the surgery without any complications. We'll use the lightest touch possible and administer the anesthesia in a way that minimizes discomfort." Dr. Dolittlefish turned to Plankton. "Now, when you wake up, it'll be like coming out of a delightful dream. You'll feel a bit groggy, like you've just emerged from a particularly long nap. You might be a tad disoriented, but that's perfectly normal. Your body will be feeling the effects of the medication wearing off, so it's crucial that you rest for a while in our recovery area." Plankton's eye searched Karen', looking for reassurance. She nodded firmly, gripping his tiny hand. "You'll be okay, Plankton. I'll be right here." The doctor nodded. "Karen, you can accompany him into the surgery room. But remember, you'll have to go and stay outside once the actual procedure begins." The next day, Plankton and Karen returned to the clinic, feeling a mix of anxiety and hope. The lobby was filled with various sea creatures, all waiting for their appointments with their own assortment of woes and ailments. "Come on, Plankton," Karen urged, her voice steady. "You've got this." Dr. Dolittlefish took his place at the head of the operating table, a serious look on his face. "Alright, Plankton," he said, his voice steady, "It's time for the anesthesia. This might feel a bit strange, but remember, it's just like drifting off to sleep." With a flick of his fin, he administered the first dose through a small tube connected to a bubble filled with the sedative. The bubble popped, and Plankton felt a warm sensation spread through his body. It started in his toes and traveled up to his antennae, making them feel weightless. His eye grew heavier, and he couldn't help but let out a sigh. The room began to spin gently, the sounds around him becoming muffled, like the distant hum of a lullaby sung by the ocean currents. He felt himself sinking into the chair, the cushions seemingly made of the softest sea foam. "How do you feel?" Dr. Dolittlefish's voice was a comforting murmur. "Woozy," Plankton slurred, his eyelid fluttering. The room was a blur of lights and colors, like a kaleidoscope of bubbles. The pain in his antenna was fading, replaced by a pleasant numbness. Karen squeezed his hand tightly, her grip the only solid thing in his swirling world. She watched him closely, her LED eyes full of worry. "It's ok, Plankton," she murmured. "You're going to be fine." The doctor nodded to her encouragement. "I want you to count backwards from one hundred ok?" Plankton, already feeling the warm embrace of the anesthesia, began his count with a lazy sensation. "One hundred... ninety-nine... ninety-eight..." His voice grew softer with each number, the digits slipping away like grains of sand through his tiny fingers. The world around him grew fuzzy, like a TV show losing signal. The lights above looked like distant stars, their brightness dimming as he descended into the abyss of unconsciousness. "...eighty-four... eighty-three... eighty-two..." His eye now half-closed, the surgery room's noises melding into a symphony of comforting whispers. The gentle sway of the seaweed outside the clinic's windows seemed to be rocking him to sleep. His voice grew more faint, words slurring together. Karen watched him count, her gaze never leaving his face. She could feel his hand loosening in hers, his grip becoming as light as a feather. Each number he uttered was a step closer to the surgery that would hopefully restore his antenna to its former glory. The count grew slower, like a snail on a leisurely stroll across the ocean floor. His voice was a mere murmur, the words barely discernible. Karen could see his tiny chest rising and falling in a slow, rhythmic pattern, his breathing growing deeper and more relaxed with each passing moment. The colors around them bled into one another, creating a dreamlike landscape. The lights above danced like jellyfish in a moonlit lagoon, casting eerie shadows across the gleaming surgical instruments. Plankton's eye fully closed now, his count barely a whisper. Each word was a soft ripple in the vast ocean of sleep that was consuming him. The whirring of the machines and the occasional splash of water seemed to fade into the background, replaced by the steady rhythm of his breathing. Karen watched, her heart swelling with love and fear as she listened to the dwindling numbers. Plankton's voice was now a faint echo, his body going slack. The room was still, save for the hypnotic pulse of the anesthesia bubbles and Plankton's shallow breaths. Karen held her own breath, her screen never leaving his face. His count grew quieter still, each number a soft, barely perceptible sigh. Karen felt the tension in her limbs ease as she watched the lines of worry on Plankton's forehead smooth out. His sleep was finally deep and peaceful, the anesthesia working its magic. "Thirty-four... thirty-three..." His voice was a mere ripple in the vast sea of quiet that filled the room. The last number slipped away, and Plankton's count stopped, his breathing deep and even. Karen felt the weight of his hand in hers, a silent testament to his complete surrender to the anesthesia's embrace. She watched Plankton's chest rise and fall with each steady breath, his body utterly relaxed with his eye sealed shut slightly. The surgery room, once a cacophony of fear and doubt, was now a sanctuary of peace, the only sounds the rhythmic beep of the heart monitor and Plankton's soft snores. The doctor nodded, satisfied with the sedation's effect. "Alright, Karen, he finally fell asleep," he whispered, patting Plankton's shoulder. "Now, we'll proceed with the actual procedure." Karen swallowed hard, nodding her head. She had never seen Plankton so vulnerable, but she knew this was for the best. "I'll be right outside," she said, her voice wavering slightly. She leaned in and kissed Plankton's forehead before letting go. With a final squeeze of his hand, she reluctantly let go and went towards the door. The doctor nodded in understanding, his eyes focused on the delicate task ahead. As the door slid shut with a soft hiss, Karen found herself in the stark, sterile waiting room. The walls were lined with sea-themed art, an attempt to provide comfort in a place filled with uncertainty and anxiety. She hovered over to the plush sea sponge chair, the material reminding her of home. Her tentacles wrapped around the phone, her movements deliberate and precise as she dialed the numbers. The first call was to Spongebob, she knew he would want to know about the accident. The line rang, and she hoped he'd pick up. "Karen?" "Spongebob, it's about Plankton," she began, her voice trembling. "He's had an accident, and he's in surgery now." "Oh no!" Sponge Bob exclaimed, his bubbly enthusiasm dimming. "Can I talk to Plankton during the surgery?" "No, they put Plankton to sleep," Karen explained, her tentacles gripping the phone tightly. "But I'll let him know you called as soon as he wakes up." "Thank you, Karen," SpongeBob said, his voice filled with genuine concern. "Tell him I'm thinking of him." The receptionist, Tentacla, noticed her distress and swam over. "Is everything okay?" she asked, her tentacles poised to offer comfort or assistance. "It's just... I've never seen him like this," Karen admitted, her voice wavering. "So... vulnerable." Tentacla nodded sympathetically, her tentacles reaching out to pat Karen's arm. "It's tough, I know. But Dr. Dolittlefish is the best in the business. Plankton's in good fins."

KAREN REACHING AUTISM pt. 13 (Autistic author) ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ɪɴᴊᴜʀɪᴇꜱ Plankton quivers. "Stop," he whispers, his voice a plea. "Please." Mr. Krabs' grin widens, eyes glinting with cruel delight. "Afraid I'll do to you what you deserve?" Before Plankton can respond, Mr. Krabs punches at him with his claw. Plankton squeaks in pain, his eye widens with terror, his voice a distressed static. "No, Mr. Krabs, please stop!" Mr. Krabs' chuckles turn into full-blown laughter. "Look at him squirm," he says, his voice a rumble. He doesn't heed the tears streaming down Plankton's face. Plankton's body wrenches in pain, his antennae sticking straight out in alarm. "Why?" he whispers, his voice a broken static. Mr. Krabs' laughter echoes. "Because you're weak," he sneers, his voice a harsh grate. "Always have been, always will be." Plankton's body shrinks, his antennae drooping. "No," he whimpers, his voice a static plea. Mr. Krabs' laughter fills the room, his claws still poised for another strike. "Look at the tiny thief," he says, his voice a cruel cackle, "so scared of a little pain." Without warning, his claw swings down, connecting with Plankton's thin leg, and Plankton's scream pierces the air, his voice a shattered static. Pain shoots through his body like lightning, his leg feeling like it's on fire. He tries to pull away. "Mr. Krabs," he gasps, his voice a desperate whine. Mr. Krabs' laughter continues, unabated by Plankton's cries. "See? You're just a tiny, weak little creature," he says, his voice a malicious cackle. Plankton's screams fill the room, the pain in his leg unbearable. "No," he whispers, his voice a static moan. "No more." Mr. Krabs' laughter doesn't waver, his claws still poised for another strike. "Oh, poor Plankton," he sneers, his voice a harsh static. Plankton's body writhes in pain, his leg twisted at an impossible angle as Sandy and Karen return. Sandy's eyes widen in horror, her voice a shocked rumble. "Mr. Krabs, what are you doing?" she asks, as Karen rushed to Plankton. Mr. Krabs' grin doesn't falter. "Teaching a lesson," he says, his voice a cruel crackle as he finally leaves. Sandy's face is a picture of horror, her voice a trembling trill. "What did he do to you?" she asks, her eyes on Plankton's twisted leg. Karen's screens flicker with rage, her beeps sharp. "That monster!" she says, her voice filled with fury. She quickly assesses the damage. Plankton's leg is twisted grotesquely, his tiny body trembling with pain. Sandy's hands hover over his body, unsure how to help without causing more distress. Sandy nods, her face pale with shock. "I'll get SpongeBob," she says, her voice a trembling trill. She runs to the phone, dialing with trembling fingers. "Sponge Bob, please come quick," she says, her voice a desperate hum. While Sandy is on the phone, Karen's screens flicker with medical information. She quickly assembles a makeshift splint for Plankton's leg, her beeps a frantic symphony of care as SpongeBob arrives. His eyes are wide with concern, his voice a panicked squeak. "What happened, Plankton?" he asks, his eyes damp with unshed tears. But Plankton's eye had rolled up in his head. Sandy's voice is shaky as she tells Sponge Bob the story, her eyes never leaving Plankton's trembling body. "Mr. Krabs... he was so cruel," she says, her voice a soft whisper of disbelief. Sponge Bob's face twists with anger. "Why would he do this?" he asks, his voice a strained whine. "First causing brain damage, and now..." Karen's screens glow with determination. "We'll deal with Mr. Krabs later," she beeps. "First, we need to get Plankton help." Sponge Bob nods, his eyes wide with fear. "What can we do?" he asks, his voice a choked whisper. Karen's screens flicker with information. "His leg is broken, and his sensory overload could be severe." Sponge Bob's face falls, his voice a sad squeak. "Oh no, Plankton." He gently picks up his friend, his touch as soft as a feather. Sandy watches, her eyes wide with fear. "What now?" she asks, her voice a trembling trill. "We can't just take him like this to a regular hospital. We'll have to be careful not to overwhelm his senses, and find medical help equipped for neurodivergent people like Plankton." SpongeBob speaks up. "I was born with a mild form of idiopathic Autism. Different from Plankton's I know, but my parents have taken me to a sensory-friendly clinic. They are skilled and have lots of different methods of medicine! It's called the Quiet Bubble Clinic!" Sandy nods, her eyes filling with hope. "That sounds perfect," she says, her voice a gentle hum. "Let's take him there." Karen's screens pulse with agreement. "Good thinking, Sponge Bob," she beeps. "We'll have to be careful, though. Any loud noises or sudden movements could trigger another meltdown." Sponge Bob nods, his grip on Plankton steady. "Sandy can drive," he says, his voice determined. "We'll get you to the Quiet Bubble Clinic, buddy."

PLANKTON GOING TO THE DENTIST Ii/Ii Plankton's eye dart around the room, trying to focus, confusion growing as the words won't come out right. "Th-th-the...th-the...th-th-th-th..." He stammers, his mouth working overtime to form the words. Karen's laughter subsides into a comforting chuckle. "It's ok, Plankton." "Th-th-then...why...why do I tawking wike thith?" He asks, voice a wobbly mess, each word a struggle. "I...I'm a g-g-genius!" He stammers, trying to sound defiant despite his speech impediment. "I'n noth s-s-suppothed to tawl wike thish!" Karen giggles. "It's just anesthesia, Plankton," she says soothingly. "It'll wear off soon." Plankton's eye widen further. "B-but...I nee, needff to...to think...think...think!" He stammers. "You'll be fine, Plankton," she says. The dentist pats Plankton's shoulder. "You're quite the charmer even with a mouthful of gauze," he quips, and the assistant snickers. Plankton's cheeks redden, indignation clear even through haze of anesthesia. "I caan...caan...can't...I caan't th-th-think!" Plankton splutters. Karen tries to stifle her giggles, shaking with amusement. "It's anesthesia," she repeats, her voice a gentle wave washing over him. "You're ok, Plankton. You're ok." He takes a deep breath, willing his tongue to cooperate. "G-got...it-t," he says. "Alright, Mr. Plankton, let's get you sitting up," he says. He tries to stand, but his body feels like it's made of jelly, his legs wobbling beneath him. "Whoa!" He exclaims, speech slightly clearer but still slurred. "Thish isn't goog." Karen and the dental staff help him to his feet, the nurse holding on to him as he sways slightly. His eye still glazed over, but there's a hint of the sharpness that she knows so well starting to shine through. "Steady there," she says supporting him. "Let's get to the car." Plankton nods. "Yeah...the...the...ca--" he says. He takes a shaky step. "Just keep taking it slow," she advises, her voice a beacon in the fog of his mind. Karen's supporting him as they navigate the hallway. "Where...wher's...wher's the...the...th-the...?" Plankton's words trip over each other, traitor to his usual eloquence. "The car, sweetie," Karen says, her voice a lifeline in the fog of anesthesia. She leads him through the hallway acting as a gentle guide. The receptionist waves with a smile. "Moth...thath...moth," he stammers. She fastens his seatbelt for him. "D-don't laug-fh at me," he mumbles, eye half-lidded with the lingering effects of anesthesia. "I'm not laughing at you," Karen says. "I'm just happy you're ok." Plankton nods. He tries to say "thanks," but it comes out as "thathks." "You're welcome, Plankton. You're going to be fine." She starts the engine. "Bh-buth...whath abou- the...the...th-the...the...teethies?" Plankton slurs, words a tangled mess. Karen laughs. "Don't worry about the teeth Plankton. They're out. You're all healed up." Plankton nods, his eye glazed and his speech still slurred. "Thath's...tha's good," he manages to say. "But I...I can't t-talk wight," he mumbles, frustrated. "Don't worry, honey," Karen says, patting his hand. "You're just a bit loopy from anesthesia. It'll wear off." Plankton tries to argue, but all that comes out is a series of garbled sounds. "Th-the...th-th-th..." "Your mouth is just numb, Plankton," Karen says, driving. "The anesthesia makes it hard to talk." But Plankton can't help it; he keeps trying, his slurred words a jumble of consonants. "Th-th-that's not ith’s," he protests, his voice bubbly. "I'm a g-g-gen-n-n...genius!" Karen giggles, gripping the steering wheel tightly. "You're a genius all right," she teases. Plankton's eye narrow in determination. "Th-that's not...noth fair!" He says, his tongue feeling like a thick sea slug. Karen can't help but laugh harder. "It's ok, Plankton," she says. "But I...I nee-f to...to...to th-th-think! I can't...can't th-think thish!" Karen's laughter bubbles up again and she squeezes his hand reassuringly. "You're ok, Plankton," she says, voice a warm current of comfort. "D-don't...d-don't leav-e me," he mumbles, his eye drooping. Karen glances over. "I'm right here, Plankton," she says. Plankton's head lolls to the side, and his snores become a soothing background to the hum of the boat's engine. His mouth hangs open, a stream of drool trailing down his chin, creating a small pool in the seat. Karen, noticing the gauze in his mouth has shifted, gently repositioned it, careful not to cause him any pain. He mumbles something incoherent, and she chuckles, shaking her head. "Rest my love," she murmurs. The drool continues to escape Plankton's mouth, creating a wet spot on the boat's upholstery, his slumbering form a stark contrast to the sharp scheming creature she's used to. She reaches over to gently dab at the drool, her movements careful not to disturb his sleep. As the boat docks at the Chum Bucket, Karen wonders how she'll manage to get him inside without him babbling incoherently and scaring off any passersby. But Plankton, in his anesthesia-induced haze, seems oblivious to the world around him, his snores the only sound. Karen helps him out of the boat, and she half-drags half-carries him through the door. They enter their living quarters and she gently lays him on their bed which feels like a vast ocean compared to his usual cramped lab space. She carefully takes out the gauze, watching his eye flutter open. "Where...where am I?" He mumbles. "You're home, Plankton," Karen says, her voice a soft wave of comfort. She wipes his chin clean with a warm, damp cloth. Plankton looks around, his eye finally focusing on the familiar sights of their home. "Home?" He slurs, his tongue thick and clumsy in his mouth. "B-but...I..." "Just rest, Plankton," Karen says, pushing him gently back down. "You've had a big day." Home never felt so welcoming, Plankton thinks, as he sinks into the embrace of the bed. Karen fluffs a pillow under his head, her movements tender. "Th-thank youw," he manages to say, his speech still thick. "You're welcome," Karen replies, her voice a gentle caress. "Now, you just rest. I'll be here." He closes his eye, letting the numbness of his mouth and the heaviness of his limbs take over. Karen sits beside him, moving in a soothing rhythm against his arm. "You're going to be fine," Karen whispers, stroking his cheek. "Just sleep it off and by tomorrow you'll be back to your usual scheming self." Plankton tries to smile but his mouth refuses to cooperate. The corners of his mouth twitch upwards in a half-hearted attempt and he mumbles "I wove youw thoo." The next day, Plankton wakes up. The numbness in his mouth has subsided leaving only a dull throb. He opens his eye to see Karen. "How do you feel?" She asks. Plankton's eye blinked open, the room spinning around him. Karen came into focus. "Mmph; wha's? Wh-when..." "Your wisdom teeth," she says, her voice a soothing tide. "They're gone Plankton. You don't have to worry about them anymore." "Wis-wis-wis...?" He stammers, his tongue tripping over the word "wisdom." "Yes, Plankton," Karen says with amusement. "You had your wisdom teeth removed yesterday." Plankton's eye widen, and he tries to sit up. "Y-yesterday?" He slurs. "But I...I caan't...can't remember.." Karen nods, her smile full of mirth. "You were pretty out of it," she says. He tries to push himself up, but the pain in his mouth sends a shockwave through. "Mph-ow!" He flops back down, his hands flying to his cheeks. "What do you mean?" Karen laughs. "You were pretty loopy," she says, holding him down gently. "The anesthesia had you talking like..." she pauses, searching for the right words. "Well, like you've never talked before." "I hope I...I didn't say anything..." he starts, his voice trailing off. "Oh, you said plenty," she teases. "But don't worry, it was just the anesthesia talking." "Wh-wh-what did I say?" Karen chuckles. "You were worried about your 'teethies'," she mimics his slurred speech from the day before. "And you kept insisting you needed to think, even when it was clear you couldn't even talk straight. But don't worry; you're just fine."

NOTHING BUT THE WISDOM TRUTH i "Why do we have to go so early?" he grumbled. "I know, sweetie," Karen said, patting his hand reassuringly. "But it's for the best. You'll be out like a light during the surgery, and you won't feel a thing." The nurse noticed his distress and offered a kind smile. "Don't worry, Mr. Plankton. We're going to make this as comfortable for you as possible. First things first, let's get you in and then we'll start with some anesthesia." Karen watched as Plankton reluctantly climbed into the chair. The nurse dimmed the lights and adjusted the chair's recline. She placed a warm blanket over him, and the softness enveloped him like a comforting embrace, the nurse preparing Plankton for the surgery. She chatted away, "So, any plans for the weekend?" "Not really," he said, "Just recovery." The nurse nodded. She began to insert the IV, talked him through each step, her voice a comforting lullaby guiding him into a state of relaxation. She continued to engage in light conversation, told about her weekend plans, a lifeline to the outside world that seemed so far away in the cold, clinical environment. As the anesthesia began to work, Plankton felt his body grow heavier, his eyelid drooping. "You're doing great," she said softly. "Just keep breathing, ok?" Plankton's thoughts began to blur together. The doctor's voice grew distant, his words melding into a comforting murmur as Plankton felt himself slipping away. The last thing he heard was Karen's voice, a gentle whisper in his ear. "I'm here," she said, her hand holding onto his with a fierce tenderness. "I love you." And then there was nothing, the last sensation he felt before everything went quiet. The anesthetist monitored Plankton's vitals, ensuring he remained safely asleep throughout the procedure. Plankton was a picture of peace, mouth agape as the anesthesia kept him blissfully unaware of the world around him. The nurse's eyes flick from the monitors to Plankton's serene face. Plankton's body didn't even flinch. Plankton's face remained relaxed, his breathing even, as the anesthetic kept him in a state of blissful unconsciousness, ensuring that his comfort remained top priority. Plankton's body remained still, his chest rising and falling in a rhythmic cadence that soothed the room. The nurse gently swabbed his mouth, keeping the area clean and clear. The doctor stitched up the small incisions with a gentle touch, while the nurse cleaned Plankton's mouth. The anesthetist monitored the levels, ensuring a smooth and safe emergence from the depths of unconsciousness. The doctor looked at Karen, his eyes weary but his smile reassuring. "It's all done," he said. "Everything went smoothly. He's still sleeping it off, but you can go in and see him." Karen rushed in, her screen searching for Plankton. He was there, lying back in the chair, his mouth slightly open, a line of drool escaping the corner of his mouth. He looked so peaceful, vulnerable. She reached out and touched his hand, for the surgery was over. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm as he slept. "He's doing great," she assured her. "The surgery went well." Karen leaned over Plankton, as she brushed his antennae with her hand. She took in the sight of him, the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the soft snorish sounds escaping his mouth. His face was a portrait of peace, a stark contrast to the chaos of the surgery that had just taken place. The nurse finished her work and dimmed the lights, leaving the room in a soft glow that cast shadows across the floor. Karen pulled up a chair and sat down, her hand finding Plankton's again. "You're ok," she murmured, willing him to hear her voice, to feel her presence. "You're going to be ok." Karen's entire world was contained in reassuring her that he was still there. The nurse approached with a wad of gauze. "We need to put this in his mouth to help with bleeding," she explained gently. Karen nodded. The nurse placed the gauze with the same care she had shown throughout the entire ordeal, pressing it gently against the raw, tender spots where Plankton's teeth had once been. The nurse finished her cleanup and checked Plankton's vitals one last time. "He'll come around soon," she assured. "The anesthesia takes a bit to wear off." His breathing was still deep and steady, the gentle rumble of his snores filling the room. She found comfort in the mundane sounds of his slumber. His chest rose and fell in a rhythm that seemed to match the beeping of the heart monitor. The anesthesia had done its job well, leaving him in a deep, dreamless sleep. His face was serene. His antennae lay limp on the chair's headrest, and his mouth was open slightly, revealing the gauze the nurse had placed to stem the bleeding. The drool that had pooled at the corners of his mouth began to seep out onto the chair. The nurse noticed and nodded, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "It's normal," she said. Plankton's snores grew louder, the drool now a small river that trickled down. Karen reached out with a trembling hand, her thumb catching the droplets before they could stain the fabric. The drool was a stark reminder of the reality of the situation. Her screen focused on the slow, steady flow of dribble, forming and breaking away, each one a little more substantial than the last. The nurse had said it was normal, but to Karen, it was a sign of his vulnerability, a tangible proof of the surgery's aftermath. As the drool grew into a small puddle on the chair, Karen's resolve to be strong for him grew stronger. She grabbed a tissue from the box on the side table and gently wiped. The nurse looked at her with understanding. "It's alright," she said softly. "He'll wake un his own time." Karen nodded, her screen never leaving Plankton's face. She felt a strange mix of love and pity. Here he was, reduced to a drooling mess in a chair, and yet she had never felt more connected to him. It was a strange intimacy, this moment of vulnerability, a silent pact between them that she would always be there to wipe away his fears, both literal and figurative. The nurse moved around the room, her movements efficient and silent. She checked the machines one last time before turning to Karen. "Why don't you sit down?" she suggested, patting the chair beside Plankton's. "It'll be a bit before he wakes up. Might as well get comfortable." Karen nodded, taking a deep breath to calm her nerves. She pulled up a chair and held his hand tightly, her thumb brushing back and forth across his knuckles. "Plankton," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. "You did it, sweetie." She leaned closer. "The teeth are out. You're okay." She waited, watching the rise and fall of his chest, listening to the steady beep of the heart monitor, and willing him to open his eye. "Remember what I said about ice cream?" she asked, her voice a little louder this time. "You can have as much as you want when we get home." She tried to keep her tone light, despite the gravity of the situation. The thought of his favorite mint chocolate chip ice cream was supposed to make him smile, but his face remained slack. But she knew he was strong, and he would bounce back. He always did. "I just want you to know how much I love you. How much I need you. We've been through so much together, and I can't imagine my life without you. You're going to wake up soon, and it'll all be over. And then we can go home, and I'll take care of you, just like you always take care of me. Remember when we said 'in sickness and in health'?" she whispered. "Well, this is definitely a 'sickness' moment, but I'm right here. And I'll be here through all the healthy moments too." The nurse quietly left them a moment of privacy. Karen leaned in closer. "You're going to feel a bit funny when you wake up," she said with a soft laugh. "Your mouth will be sore, and your face will be puffy. But I'll be there. And maybe I'll let you win at Scrabble for once." She chuckles. "Just don't let it go to your head." Plankton's eyelid fluttered, and a low moan escaped his throat. She squeezed his hand. "That's it, baby," she encouraged. "You're waking up." His eye opened slowly dilated and unfocused. He blinked a few times, trying to adjust to the harsh lights of the recovery room. He turned his head to the side, and she knew he was searching for her. "Hi," she said, her voice a warm whisper. "It's me, Karen. You're ok." His gaze found hers, and she saw the flicker of recognition. "Where am I?" he slurred, his voice thick and groggy. "You're in the recovery room, sweetheart," Karen said, her voice steady and soothing. "You just had your wisdom teeth out." Plankton's eye widened slightly, and he nodded, trying to sit up. Karen gently pushed him back down. "Easy," she said. "You need to rest." "But I'm so tired," he mumbled, his voice weak. "I know," Karen said, stroking his forehead with her cool hand. "But you're doing great. Just stay still for a little while longer. They got all four teeth out without any complications." He nodded, his eye still closed. "Good," he mumbled.

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.

NOTHING BUT THE WISDOM TRUTH ii "You're in the recovery room, sweetheart," Karen said, her voice steady and soothing. "You just had wisdom teeth out." Plankton's eye widened slightly, and he nodded, trying to sit up. Karen gently pushed him back down. "Easy," she said. "You need to rest." "But I'm so tired," he mumbled, his voice weak. "I know," Karen said, stroking his forehead with her hand. "But you're doing great. Just stay still for a little while longer. They got all four teeth out without any complications." He nodded, his eye still closed. "Good," he mumbled. "I don't... I don't member any ting." His words were slurred. The anesthesia was definitely still working its magic on him. "It's ok," she said, her voice soothing. "You don't need to.." Plankton's head lolled to the side, and his eyelid grew heavy again. "Karen?" he murmured, his voice thick with sleep. "I'm right here," she assured him, her voice steady and calm. She watched as he tried to lift his hand to wipe at his mouth, but it flopped back down onto the chair's armrest, his fingers brushing against hers. Plankton's eye grew heavy again, and his head lolled to the side. The anesthesia was working its way out of his system, but it was taking its time. She chuckled as she watched him struggle to keep his eye open. "I'm... I'm," Plankton mumbled, his words coming out slurred and sloppy. His eye rolled back in his head, and he let out a snore. "You're a mess," she laughs, her voice filled with love. "But you're my mess." She watched as his chest rose and fell with each snore. It was clear that the anesthesia was still holding him in its grasp, and she knew it would be a while before he was fully awake. Karen couldn't help but laugh at his antics. Plankton's snores grew louder. Karen reached out and gently wiped the line of drool from his mouth with a tissue. He stirred, his eye blinking open again. "You're drooling," she whispered, smiling at him. "What's happening?" he asked, his words slurred. "You're coming out of the anesthesia," Karen said, her voice a lifeline in the haze. "Everything went fine." Plankton's eye searched hers, his thoughts racing. "Mmmy...nesia?" he mumbled. Karen's smile grew, understanding his attempt to ask about his sleep during surgery. "You mean the anesthesia?" Karen couldn't help but chuckle at his endeavor. "You're just a little out of it," she said, her voice gentle. "The anesthesia is wearing off." "Thish...thish ish...shomefinny," Plankton tried to say. "What?" Karen asked, her curiosity piqued by his attempt at speech. "Nothin'." Plankton's words were slurred into a single syllable. He looked utterly lost in the haze. Karen leaned closer. "You sure?" Plankton nodded, his smile lopsided. "Jush...jush glad." Karen couldn't help but laugh at his adorable incoherence. "You're so loopy," she said, her voice filled with affection. She squeezed his hand gently. "I love you." "Ish love...love you too, Karen," he slurred. "I know," she said, her voice a mix of amusement and affection. "Tish...tish hard," Plankton mumbled, his cheeks dimpling with his own private joke. The nurse entered the room, checking his vitals with a knowing smile. "It's normal for patients to be a bit out of it after surgery," she said, scribbling notes on her clipboard. "I'm shorry," he said, words still a jumble. Karen couldn't help but lean in closer, her own smile growing wider. "It's ok," she assured him, her voice gentle. The nurse nodded in agreement, her own smile playing at the corners of her lips. "It's quite common," she said, her voice professional but kind. "Ish...Ish...it...over?" he managed to ask, his tongue thick in his mouth. "Yes, sweetheart," Karen said, her voice still filled with love and amusement. "You're all done. They got all your wisdom teeth out." "Thish...thish allll over now-ow." "Almost," Karen said, her voice a gentle melody. "We just need to wait for the anesthesia to wear off a bit more, and then we can go home." Plankton nodded, his eye already drifting shut again. His mouth moved as he attempted to speak, but only slurred sounds came out. Karen leaned in closer, her smile never wavering. "You know, you're pretty chatty for someone who's had their wisdom teeth out." "Ish...Ish always had...shomeshin' to shay," Plankton managed, his speech a series of lisped and elongated sounds. Plankton's eye began to drift closed again, his breathing growing deep and even. The nurse finished her checks and gave Karen instructions for his aftercare. "Make sure he takes it easy," she said. "I will," Karen promised, her screen never leaving Plankton's face. The quiet was filled with the sound of Plankton's snores, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm beneath the blanket. His mouth was still slightly open, and she could see the drool forming at the corner of his lips. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she pulled it out to see a text from Mr. Krabs, Plankton's rival at the Krabby Patty. "How's he doing?" it read. "Loopy," she replied with a smiley face. She had told Mr. Krabs about the surgery the day before, and despite their rivalry, he had offered to come visit when they get back home. The nurse poked her head back in, checking the clock on the wall. "Alright, he's ready to go," she said, her smile warm. Karen nodded, standing up and gently shaking Plankton's shoulder. "Come on," she whispered. "Let's get you home." Plankton's eye blinked open slowly, and he looked around the room with confusion. "Home?" he mumbled, his voice still thick. "Yes, we're going home," Karen said, her voice the balm to his disorientation. She helped him to his feet, supporting his weight as he swayed slightly. The drive back home was a blur of sleep. Plankton's head lolled against the car window, the vibration of the engine lulling him to a doze. "You okay?" Karen asked, glancing at him in the rearview mirror. "Yeah," Plankton mumbled, his voice a sleepy rumble. "Just...tiwed." The drive home was quiet, with only the occasional snore piercing the silence. Karen drove carefully, her eyes flicking between the road and the mirror to check on Plankton. She knew he would be out for the count for a while, and his face was still swollen. As they pulled into their driveway, Plankton stirred. "We're home," Karen said, her voice gentle. He nodded, his eye still half-closed. "Home," he murmured. Karen helped him out of the car, his legs wobbly as he tried to find his balance. She wrapped his arm around her waist, supporting him as they made their way, and he leaned into her, his body heavy with fatigue. The house was quiet as they entered, the only sound the occasional tick of the grandfather clock in the hallway. Karen guided him to the couch, carefully helping him sit down. "Rest here," she said, her voice a gentle command. Plankton nodded, eye closing again. She disappeared into the kitchen, returning with a glass of water and a pillow. "Here," she said, placing the pillow behind his head. He took the glass with a nod, his hand shaking slightly. He took a sip. "Thish...thish ish...good," he managed to say. She knew he was in pain, and the anesthesia was only adding to his confusion. "I'll be right back," she said, her voice a soft whisper. Karen grabbed the pet amoeba puppy, Spot. She carried him back to the living room, where Plankton was slowly coming around. "Look who's here," she said, holding Spot out to him. Spot's blob-like body stretched out in excitement, his little legs waving in the air. Plankton's eye widened at the sight, and a smile spread across his swollen face. "Spot," he murmured, his voice still thick with anesthesia. Karen set Spot on his lap, and the amoeba immediately began to cover him in wet, loving kisses. Plankton chuckled, his hand rising to pet the creature's gelatinous head. "Hey, bubby," he slurred, his speech still compromised. The simple act of touch brought a spark of life to Plankton's eye. "You're good boyth," he said, his voice a mix of affection and pain. Spot's response was a happy wiggle. Karen couldn't help but smile at the sight, Plankton's love for their little amoeba was unwavering. She took a seat beside him, her hand resting gently on his shoulder. "Just rest," she said, her voice a soft command. Plankton nodded, his eyes closing again. Spot continued to shower him with affection, his slimy kisses landing on Plankton. Karen watched them for a moment, her heart swelling with warmth. Then she stood up, knowing there was still more to do to ensure Plankton's recovery went smoothly. In the kitchen, she put together a soft meal for him, something that wouldn't irritate his sensitive mouth. She chopped up some fruit into a small bowl and warmed up a cup of soup. The smells of chicken broth and sweet berries filled the air, a comforting aroma that she hoped would ease his pain. When she returned to the living room, Plankton was asleep, Spot curled up with him. She set the food down on the table, the spoon clinking gently against the porcelain bowl. She took a moment to appreciate the peaceful scene before her, the two of them nestled together, the TV playing a low murmur of background noise. Karen decided to let him sleep for a bit longer. Gently, she lifted Spot off Plankton's lap and placed him on the floor. The amoeba pup quickly scuttled back by the couch, but still on the floor. Karen then turned off the TV, not wanting the noise to disturb Plankton's rest. Just as she was about to leave the room to let him sleep, the doorbell rang. It was Mr. Krabs, his beady eyes looking concerned. She opened the door, whispering, "Shh, he's asleep." Mr. Krabs nodded, his usual gruffness replaced with a rare display of compassion. He held a bag of ice. "Thought he might need these," he said, handing them to her. Karen took the bag gratefully. "Thank you," she whispered. "He's in the living room."

PLANKTON GOING TO THE DENTIST i/Ii "You say you've tenderness in the back of..." "Aw!" Plankton interrupts, as the dentist examines his mouth. "I see your wisdom teeth haven't erupted yet, Mr. Plankton; luckily we can remove them today, if you've a ride home.." "My wife Karen's in the waiting room area, she drove me here." The surgery room is sterile and white, smelling faintly of disinfectant. Plankton's heart races as he sits in the chair, his tiny legs dangling over the edge. The large, looming figures of the dentist and the assistant hover around him, their faces obscured by masks and hats. They guide Karen to a small chair by the wall. "We're going to numb the area," the dentist explains in a soothing voice. "But since you're a bit nervous, we can also offer some to help you relax into sleep before so, not to mention teeth haven't even broke the surface of the gums yet." Plankton nods, gripping the arms of the chair. The dentist administers anesthesia. His grip relaxes. "Just breathe," the dentist instructs. "It'll be over before you know it." Plankton's eye grow heavier as the sedative takes hold. "It's time, Mr. Plankton," the dentist's voice echoes fading into the background like whispers in a distant tide. The chair reclines and he surrenders to dreamless sleep, eyelid shutting. Karen watches, clutching the chair's arm rest. She sees the mask of anesthesia descend over Plankton's face, his breaths slowing to a gentle sigh, matching the rhythm of the sea breeze outside. The assistant's gloved hands move with precision, placing a pillow securing him. Plankton's snores, a gentle rumble, give her some comfort, a sign that he's not in pain. The dentist inserts numbing agents into Plankton's gums. While Plankton remains oblivious to the world, Karen's watching. "Everything's going fine," he assures her. "You can hold his hand if you'd like." Plankton's sleeping mouth is a stark contrast to the towering world around him. Karen follows the steady movements of the dentist's hands, the syringe filled with anesthetic seemingly as large as a harpoon in the sea of Plankton's features. The assistant nods in approval, their expression hidden but the confidence in their stance reassuring. The surgical tools glint in the light reflecting the seriousness of the task at hand. Karen can see the reflection of her own tension in the chrome surfaces, but she forces a smile, trying to be brave for Plankton. It's a gentle gesture, a silent promise that she's there, that she's watching over him. The extraction begins. Karen flinches but Plankton doesn't stir. The dentist's movements are swift and precise, each action deliberate. Karen tries watching her husband's chest rise and fall with the steady rhythm of sleep. The assistant wipes some drool from Plankton's chin with a gentle cloth and Karen suppresses a smile, despite the bleeding. Her little Plankton, so fierce and cunning in his usual world, now so vulnerable. The assistant occasionally looks over to her, offering a reassuring nod as if to say, "Don't worry, he's doing great." The room falls into a quiet rhythm: the steady pulse of the ocean outside, the occasional murmur from the staff, and the soft hiss of the suction tool removing excess saliva. Plankton's snores become more peaceful, his body relaxing as the surgery progresses. Karen watches the blood ooze from the small sockets where the teeth used to be. The assistant quickly places gauze, pressing it down with firm yet gentle fingers, and the bleeding slows. The dentist nods, a job well done, and begins to stitch the wounds with a finesse that belies his size. The dentist starts to stitch up Plankton's gums, the needle moving in and out. The dentist steps back, wiping his hands clean. "Everything went perfectly," he says. "We're just going to keep him asleep for a little while longer, let him rest." Karen nods. The assistant starts to cleanup. Karen's glued to the gauze in Plankton's mouth, now soaked a deep red. She watches as the crimson stain spreads through the fabric, the evidence of his pain and endurance. The room feels hot, the pressure of her concern thickening the water around them. The dentist's assistant notices her distress and offers a kind smile. "He'll be ok," she whispers. Ignoring the instructions to remain silent, Karen leans in closer, reaching out to caress Plankton's cheek. "You're doing great, honey," she whispers, though she knows he can't hear. "You're so brave." She whispers to him again, her voice a soothing melody that fills the otherwise sterile space. "You're going to wake up soon, and it will all be over," Karen tells. The room seems to hold its breath. Karen can feel the gentle tug of Plankton's hand in hers, a silent response to her comforting words. She watches the slow rise and fall of his chest. "You won't remember this, Plankton," she whispers, "but I will. I'll remember how brave you are, even when you don't know it. You know how you always say size doesn't matter?" she says. "Well, I'm here to tell you that even when you're asleep and can't hear, you're still the biggest in my heart. You've got this, Plankton," she whispers. "You're going to wake up, and it'll all be over. And when you do, we'll go back to the Chum Bucket, and you can tell me all about your latest scheme. And I'll smile, and laugh, and pretend to be surprised, just like I always do." The dentist checks Plankton's vital signs and nods to the nurse, who starts to prepare him for waking. "The sedative will wear off soon," Karen tells him, voice low and soothing. "But for now, just rest, my love." She squeezes his hand gently. The assistant nods in agreement and begins to prepare the room for Plankton's recovery. Karen's watching as the sedatives keep him blissfully unaware of the world around him, his mouth slightly open and drooling in to the gauze and down his chin. The sight is both heartbreaking and comforting, a strange mix of vulnerability and strength. She finds herself lost in the rhythm of his breaths, the only sign of life in the otherwise quiet surgery room. The gauze in Plankton's mouth is only a hint of pink. The nurse enters with a gentle smile. "We're going to start bringing him around now," she says. Plankton's snores become less deep. "You did so well, Plankton," Karen says, stroking his forehead. "You're almost done." As the anesthesia begins to wear off, Plankton's eye flicker open but unfocused, lost in a world between sleep and wakefulness. "Hey Plankton," Karen says, her voice a warm embrace. "You're all done. You were so brave." "Mmf," he murmurs. "Whath's 'ppening?" The dentist chuckles lightly. "Just anesthetics wearing off, Mr. Plankton. Your mouth might be a bit numb." Plankton's eye widen, and he tries to speak again, but all that comes out is a series of unintelligible sounds. "Mmph...whath...whath's?" he stammers, voice muffled by the gauze. Karen laughs gently. "Your numb, sweetie," she explains with care. "You're slurring your words a bit." Plankton tries to speak again, his voice still a garbled mess. "Bh-but...my...my...moth," he mumbles. "You're just a bit sleepy," Karen giggles, reaching to gently wipe the drool from his chin. The sight of her husband, normally so sharp and scheming, now reduced to a blubbering mess.

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။|||| 0:10⋆.˚🦋༘⋆lori yapping 🤫',SH♥''.,.what are we gonna do 𝐒𝐭✰𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥,..,'

AUTISM IN THE PLANKTON FAMILY iii (Autistic author) Karen picked him up, and carried his limp form to his bed. She stood there for a moment, watching his chest rise and fall. The snores grew quieter as sleep consumed him. The weight of what had just happened settled on her shoulders. Karen lay him down gently. She tucked him in, his antennae resting against the pillow. The room was quiet except for his soft snores, a stark contrast to the chaos that had filled it moments before. Karen sat by his side, her hand on his arm. After a few moments, she stood up and walked to the door, closing it gently behind her. She found Hanna in the living room, her eyes red-rimmed and worried. "Hanna, I need to talk to you," Karen said, her voice firm but not accusing. Hanna looked up, her expression hopeful for guidance. Karen sat beside her, her eyes on her own hands, which were fidgeting in her lap. "Plankton's been through a lot," she began, her voice measured. "He's different now." Hanna nodded, her eyes wide with unspoken questions. "Still coming to terms with it but you're just fine. It's a rarity, yet he'll be fine." "I guess I'll head out. I never meant to cause Plankton distress." Karen nodded, her eyes still on her fidgeting hands. "Thank you for understanding. I'm pretty sure he knows you didn't mean to, but I can still tell him when he wakes up." Hanna left, and Karen went back to the bedroom. Plankton was still asleep, his breathing steady and peaceful. Karen sat by the bed. Plankton's snores were the only sound in the room, a gentle reminder of the peace that sleep brought him from his tumultuous world of heightened senses. Karen took a deep breath, her thoughts racing. This was their new normal, a dance of understanding and patience they would have to learn. When Plankton next woke up, his eye searched the room, his antennae twitching slightly. He looked over to find Karen sitting in a chair beside the bed, her gaze on him. "Hi," she said, her voice gentle. He sat up slowly, the fabric of the bed rustling beneath his weight. "How are you feeling?" Karen's concern was palpable, her eyes scanning his face for any signs of distress. Plankton took a deep breath, trying to organize his thoughts. Karen's presence was a balm to his soul, her understanding a lifeline in the storm of sensory input. "Where's Hanna?" Karen sighed, her gaze never leaving his face. "She left, sweetie. You were a bit...overwhelmed." Plankton nodded, his antennae twitching with the memory of the sensory assault. "It's okay," Karen assured him, her voice a soft whisper. "She just didn't understand, and felt bad for the way she treated you." Plankton nodded, his antennae still. The room was quiet, a stark contrast to the chaos from before. He took a moment to collect himself, his thoughts racing. "Sorry," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. Karen reached out and took his hand, her grip firm but gentle. "You have nothing to apologize for," she said, her tone soothing. "This is all new to us. Would you like to eat?" Plankton nodded. "I'll get you something quiet and simple," Karen said, standing up. She knew that too much stimulation could send him spiraling. In the kitchen, she prepared a snack of plain crackers. She placed the plate on the table carefully, not wanting to startle his heightened senses again. Plankton entered the room, his movements deliberate and slow. He sat down across from her, his eye darting around the room. "It's ok," Karen reassured him, handing him the plate of crackers. "Just food." "Just food. It's ok; just food." He repeats back to himself, focusing on the plate. Each cracker was a tiny square of safety, a familiar comfort in a sea of sensory uncertainty. He took a deep breath and selected one. The taste was comforting, a reminder of a simpler time. Karen watched him, her screen filled with love. Plankton took a sip of water, his eye never leaving hers. "It's ok just food," he said again, his voice still low. "Karen good and good food. It's ok." Karen nodded, her smile a mix of relief and sadness. She knew his echolalic tendencies was the autism, but she's glad he likes the food as well. They sat in silence, the only sound the crunch of crackers and the occasional sip of water. Plankton's eye focused on the cracker in his hand, the patterns on the surface a comfort. His autistic brain craved the predictability, the sameness that calmed his nerves. This was the man she knew, yet he was different. The Plankton who was always plotting and scheming was now one who found comfort in the mundane. His mind felt clearer now, the overwhelming chaos of the earlier encounter with Hanna beginning to fade. Karen watched him, her heart breaking for the silent struggle she knew he faced every moment. "I'll talk to Hanna," she said gently. "I'll explain. What do you want me to tell her? What'd you like for her to know?" Plankton's gaze remained on the cracker, his thumb tracing the edge. "Tell her sorry," he mumbled. "What else? I mean, is it ok if I tell her you're autistic now? Or what about the accident that lead to the autism?" Plankton's antennae twitched at the word 'accident', his mind reeling with memories of the stove, the fight with Mr. Krabs, the pain. But he nodded slowly. "Ok," he murmured. Karen's heart ached at the simplicity of his response. The complexity of his thoughts was now a tightly guarded secret, hidden behind a wall of sensory overload. "Okay, I will," Karen said, her voice soft. "But remember, it's ok to be different." Plankton nodded, his eye still on his food. But as he took another cracker, he paused. He looked up, his gaze locking with hers. "Karen," he said, his voice a little stronger now. "I, I l-love you." Karen's eyes widened at the sudden declaration. "Oh, Plankton," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I love you too." Plankton nodded, his gaze never leaving hers. "Karen making everything okay," he murmured. He took another cracker, his hands shaking slightly. "You make Plankton feel safe," he continues with sincerity. "In a world that's too much, Karen not too much." Karen's eyes filled with tears at his heartfelt words. She reached across the table and took his hand. "Plankton, I'm here for you. Always." Plankton's antennae stopped twitching. He looked into her screen, his own filled with a depth of emotion that hadn't seen before. "You good, Karen," he said, his voice steady. "Helping Plankton." Plankton was finding his way to express himself, to connect with her in a way that was meaningful. She squeezed his hand. "I'll always help you," she promised. "Karen," Plankton began, his voice tentative. He took a deep breath, trying to find the words. "I love you, Karen," he said finally, his eye intense with feeling. Karen swelled with love and pride. Despite his struggles, Plankton was learning to express his emotions in a way that made sense to him. It was a victory, small but significant. "Thank you, Plankton," she said, squeezing his hand. "Your love makes me happy." His antennae twitched slightly, a sign of his awkwardness with the emotional exchange. The room was quiet, the only noise the soft sound of their breathing and the occasional crunch of a cracker. Plankton's eye searched hers, looking for reassurance. "Plankton need...space," he managed, his voice shaky. "Too...much emotional interaction. Still love." Karen nodded, understanding dawning. "Okay, sweetie," she said, releasing his hand. "I'll be right here. Take all the time you need."

SPOT AND THE JELLYFISH CIRCUS "Will it hurt?" Plankton asks. The dentist administer anesthesia. "There, might feel funny for a while you fall asleep." Plankton's mind started to wander conjuring random thoughts. "Karen, you think abou- opening a jellyfish circus?" he giggled, words slurred by anesthesia. Karen smiled. "Jellyfish juggling jellies and seahorse trapeze artists," he continued, eye twinkled with a child like wonder as he imagined. The dentist chuckled as he prepared. "I'm sure it'd be quite the show, Plankton," he said. "And hav- a sea cucumber clown car! They squish in and out, all fish laugh!" Plankton's giggles grew, speech slurring a jumble of words. "Oooh, look at the squid in the corner," he pointed with a wobbly hand. "It's playing the accordion with tentacles! It's so... squishy!" The anesthesia was working. "And the star of the show," Plankton announced dramatically, "would be a dolphin... riding a dolphin! They'd do flips and twirls and... and... and synchronized bubble blowing!" Karen'd never seen him like this before. "What's next?" Plankton's body grew limp, eye glazed over and his words became gentle, rhythmic mumble. "Oh, octopus tightrope walker," Plankton murmured, eyelid growing heavier. "Wearing a top hat... and... hat!" His voice faded to a soft chuckle. Karen kissed Plankton's forehead."I'm here." The nurse leaned closer, voice hushed. "It's almost time for the extraction," she said. "You'll be feeling sleepy." Plankton nods, eye half-closed as anesthesia tightened grip. The world grew fuzzier, distant, muffled by thick blanket of sedation enveloped. "Don't forget clownfish," he mumbled now barely coherent. "They'd juggle... jellyfish... jellyfish... jellyfish... jellyfish..." "Plankton, you're gonna start falling asleep," Plankton nodded, eye fully closed. "Jellyfish... juggling... so... beautiful." His voice was distant whisper. "Don't worry," Karen assured, her hand stroking his as his mind drifted further into the abyss of anesthesia. "And the... the... jellyfish... they're... Why's everyth-ing... so... slow?" Plankton's words trailed off in to gentle snore as his mind succumbed to the anesthesia's embrace. He stilled, breathing now deep and even. The nurse checked monitors, nodding in satisfaction. "He's out. Let's get started." Plankton's snores grew deeper. His chest rose and fell, dreamless sleep continued, uninterrupted, blissfully unaware of extraction, his mouth slightly open as gentle sounds of his snoring filled the room. The once-trembling now lay still against his chair. Whence surgery complete, the nurse dabbed Plankton's mouth with putting gauze the extraction sites. The anesthesia done its job, leaving him completely unaware of the procedure. The dentist sutured gum, swift and precise. "He'll be out for another twenty minutes or so," the dentist said, placing the last stitch with a gentle precision. "The anesthesia wear off gradually." Karen nodded, hand still in Plankton's. "Thank you, Doctor," she said. "He's going to be just fine," he assured her, smile warm comforting. "He'll be back to his usual self though you can expect him to still be under lingering influence of anesthesia, as he may act funny for today." Karen nodded, unable to resist press another gentle kiss to Plankton's forehead. "Thank you," she whispered. Karen took the opportunity. "Hey, Plankton," she called softly, her voice a gentle lilt. "Wake up, sweetie. It's all done." Plankton's antennae twitched slightly. "C'mon, Plankton," Karen cooed. "Time to wake. Spot is waiting for you back at the Chum Bucket." Plankton stirred, snores morphing. "Spot... jellyfish... circus... Amoeba puppy... circus...?" "That's right, first, you need to wake. Can you for me?" "Jellyfish... juggling... so... sleepy," he murmured. Karen watched closer. Plankton's snores grew quieter. "Jug...gling... jellyfish... Spot?" His voice was a faint rumble. His eye fluttered open, revealing a dazed look as he finally woke. "Wha... whath 'appen?" "Your wisdom teeth came out, Plankton," she said. "You been sleeping through. You had quite the dream coming out of it, it seems," she said, her voice filled with affectionate amusement. Plankton blinked, circus slowly fading from his mind. He looked around coming back. "Jellyfish... circus?" he mumbled, voice thick with remnants of anesthesia. Karen chuckled and squeezed his hand. "You were talking about it," she said with mirth. "It was quite the show." Plankton tried to sit up. "Easy now," she said. "Take it slow. You might feel woozy." With the doctor's nod, Karen helped Plankton up, arm supporting his wobbly frame. As they left, he leaned heavily on Karen as they made their way to the car. Once in the passenger seat, Plankton leaned back, eye fluttering. "Jellyfish circus..." he mumbled to himself, slurred and faint. Karen's pulling out of the parking lot. Plankton's eyelid grew heavier, the gentle sway of the car lulling him in and out of sleep. "Jellyfish... so... floaty," he mumbled. "And the... the sea cucumber car... it squished." "Still thinking about your circus, huh?" Karen said, glancing. Plankton's eye remained closed. "Mmhmm," he murmured. "The squid... playing... accordion... so... squishy. And starfish acrobats," he murmured, dreamy. "They'd spin... so fast... like... like... jellyfish... jellyfish..." His head lolled to the side, snoring interrupting the flow of his thoughts. "It's doing... it's doin’ the waltz... underwater... waltz... with jellyfish... so... so graceful." His voice grew softer with each word until it was a mere murmur, and then silence fell, broken only by the gentle sounds of his occasional snore. Karen glanced over at him. "I think you've had enough circus for today," she said. Plankton's snores grew more frequent. Karen's smile grew as she drove. The sight of her husband's twitching and his mouth moving in sleep was a peculiarly endearing sight. As they pulled into the Chum Bucket's parking lot, Plankton stirred. Karen helped him out of the car, his legs wobbly and unsteady as they made their way into their home. Spot, the amoeba puppy, oozed his way over, his single-celled body moving with surprising grace. He wagged his tiny gelatinous tail, his simple eyes lighting up with joy. Plankton's slurred words grew clearer as he saw Spot. "Hey ther- buddy," he mumbled, hand reaching out to pat the blob-like creature. "Jellyfish circus. Can you juggle?" Spot stared up at him. He didn't have tentacles but that didn't stop Plankton's imaginative ramblings. "You'd be the besht juggling in the whole circus." He leaned down to tickle the amoeba's blob-like body. "Wouldn't you, boy?" Spot oozed closer, his gelatinous body quivering in response to the attention. He looked up at Plankton seemingly understanding. "Let's get you to bed," Karen said, guiding him with a firm but gentle touch, Plankton still not fully under his control. "Look, Karen, the... the... jellyfish are... are... dancing!" His laugh was soft, sleepy chuckle. She helped him, propping his head up. Spot hopped onto the bed and curled up next to him, a comforting presence. "Now you stay put, and let those teeth heal." Plankton nodded, his eye already drifting shut again. "Jellyfish... circus... so... so... restful," he mumbled. Karen pulled the blankets up and kissed him on the forehead. "Sleep tight, sweetie," she whispered. Eventually, Plankton blinked his eye open. His mouth felt thick and strange, gauze a foreign presence. He looked around, his gaze landing on Spot, under his arm. "Wha... whath... happen'd?" Karen looked up. "You're awake," she said. "How do you feel?" He reached up to feel his mouth. "Don't," Karen warned gently, placing her hand on his. "You're ok, Plankton. You had wisdom teeth removed." He nodded, the memory of the jellyfish circus faded. "Thath... that was... was... today?" Drool pools at the corner of Plankton's mouth as he blinked groggily, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Karen nods. "Yes, it was," she said, voice soothing. "You've been out for a while. Do you remember anything?" Plankton's eye squinted as he tried to recall. "No," he murmured. "It's all... blurry. I remember being in the dentist's chair." He shifted his weight moving awkwardly as the gauze in his mouth made speaking difficult. "What... what after that?" "You talked about a jellyfish circus." Plankton's eye widened slightly. "Jellyfish... circus? Absurd!" he murmured, trying to remember attempt to pull memories from depths of subconscious. "I... don't remember that." Karen chuckled, her voice a gentle reminder of his delirious ramblings. Plankton slumped in embarrassment. "I... I must've been out of my mind," he said, his voice still thick with the aftermath. "But it was also kind of sweet seeing you relaxed and happy." "I... I don't even know whewe that came from," he murmured. "Hope no one else heard," he mumbled, his voice muffled by the gauze. "Do you need anything?" Karen asked. "Just... rest," Plankton murmured, eye shut again. Karen stood up and went to the kitchen, her mind racing with the rare glimpse into the whimsical side of the usually cunning and scheming Plankton. She grabbed a bowl of chum and a spoon, making sure it was soft enough for him to eat. When she returned, Plankton was still, chest rising and falling with the steady rhythm of sleep. She set the bowl down on the nightstand and took a seat next to the bed, never leaving his face. The room was quiet, save for his occasional snore. Karen sat by the bedside, watching Plankton sleep. "Jellyfish circus," she murmured to herself, a smile playing. "Who knew you had such imagination..."

KAREN REACHING AUTISM pt. 14 (Autistic author) ᵂᵃʳⁿⁱⁿᵍˢ: ʰᵒˢᵖⁱᵗᵃˡ They carefully lift Plankton into the car, his body tense with pain. Sandy slides into the driver's seat, her hands gripping the wheel. Her eyes meet Sponge Bob's in the rearview mirror, filled with resolve. "Ready?" she asks, her voice a gentle hum. Sponge Bob nods, his eyes never leaving Plankton's face. "Ready." Karen buckles Plankton in as his eye flutters. "Hold tight," Sandy says, her voice a steady rumble, as she starts the engine. The car's gentle purr is a contrast to the tension in the air. Sponge Bob sits in the back, his eyes trained on Plankton's face. His friend's tiny body is a tapestry of pain, but Sponge Bob's touch is a soft, steady beat, trying to soothe him. "It's okay, Plankton," he whispers, his voice a comforting whisper of reassurance. Plankton's antennae twitch, his eye slightly focusing on Sponge Bob. "Mph," he murmurs, his voice a static hum of pain. Sponge Bob nods, his face a mask of determined compassion. "We're going to the Quiet Bubble Clinic," he says, his voice a soft, steady wave. "They'll know how to help you." Sandy's eyes are on the road ahead, her driving slow and precise. "Just hold on, Plankton," she says, her voice a comforting hum. "We're almost there." The Quiet Bubble Clinic comes into view, a softly lit building that seems to pulse with a gentle calm. Sandy parks the car and they carefully extract Plankton from his seat, his tiny body rigid. They enter the lobby, the air thick with the scent of calming essential oils. The lights are low, and the sounds muffled. A nurse with a gentle face approaches, her voice a soothing whisper. "What can we help with?" she asks, her eyes on Plankton's twisted leg. Sponge Bob explains quickly, his voice trembling with concern. "Mr. Krabs hurt his leg," he says, his eyes wide. "Krabs also hit his head with a fry pan, which caused Plankton autism as well as the accompaniment of sensitivities. But his leg hurts and needs fixed!" The nurse nods, her movements slow and deliberate. "We'll need to be careful with his heightened senses," she murmurs, her voice a soft melody. "Let's get him to a room." They navigate the hallways, the walls lined with soothing pictures and textures. Plankton's body is stiff with pain, his voice a static hiss with each step. "Please," he whispers, his antennae waving weakly. The nurse nods, her touch gentle as she leads them to a quiet, dimly lit exam room. "We need to fix your leg, sweetie," she says, her voice a gentle breeze. Plankton's eye flutters open. The nurse's voice is a gentle lullaby. "We're going to take good care of you," she says, her eyes kind and understanding. Plankton's body shakes with fear and pain, his antennae pressed against his head. Sponge Bob squeezes his hand, his voice a comforting whisper. "You're going to be okay, Plankton," he says, his eyes filled with concern. The nurse nods, her gloved hands moving with precision. "We're going to need to put him under," she says, her voice a soft whisper. "It's the safest way to manage his pain and sensitivity." Plankton's antennae quiver with fear, his single eye darting back and forth. "Under what," he whispers. The nurse's smile doesn't reach her eyes. "Anesthesia," she says softly, her voice a comforting hum. "It'll help you sleep through the surgery." Plankton's antennae twitch with anxiety, his voice a nervous static. "Sleep?" he repeats, his eye doubtful. "Plankton light sleeper." The nurse nods, her eyes calm. "We understand, sweetie," she murmurs. "We'll make sure you're comfortable." They prep him for surgery, the air in the room thick with his fear. Sponge Bob holds his hand, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on his palm. "It'll be over soon," he whispers, his voice a soothing wave. The doctor, a kind-eyed squid, enters the room, his tentacles moving with calming precision. "We're going to give you something to help you relax," he says, his voice a gentle trill. "We've ways to sedate. One, a pill tablet. Two, a liquid to drink. Three, nasally. Four, cream gel to numb the place the IV goes in but, it'll be inserted after he's asleep anyway. Now the first two options are taken orally, so they might take a moment to work..." "Drink; Plankton, drink.." Plankton manages, looking at a chart of diagrams which illustrate each method. The doctor nods, his tentacles steadily adjusting the bed. "Very good," he says, his voice a gentle wave of reassurance. He hands Plankton a small cup. "This is a special drink," he explains, his eyes meeting Plankton's. "It'll help you relax before surgery." Plankton's antennae twitch with anxiety as he takes the cup. He looks to Sponge Bob, whose grip on his hand tightens. "It's okay," Sponge Bob whispers, his voice a calming static. With a shaky hand, Plankton brings the cup to his mouth, his eye squeezed shut. He gulps down the liquid as they give him a blanket. He finishes the drink and hands the cup back. Sponge Bob's grip doesn't waver, his thumb still moving in soothing circles. "Good job, buddy," he whispers, his voice a gentle sea breeze. Sandy nods as Karen gives Plankton a kiss. The nurse's eyes are warm and comforting as she checks his vitals. "It won't be long now," she murmurs, her voice a soft hum of reassurance. Sponge Bob sits by the bed, his grip on Plankton's hand firm but gentle. "You're doing great," he says, his voice a calming whisper. Plankton's antennae twitch with the first wave of drowsiness, his eye slowly closing. The world around him begins to fade into a soft, fuzzy static. Sponge Bob watches, his grip on Plankton's hand unyielding. "It's going to be okay," he whispers, his voice a gentle rush of air. The anesthesia starts to take effect, Plankton's body gradually going slack, his breathing deepening. Sponge Bob's eyes follow the rise and fall of Plankton's chest, his grip on his hand tight. "You're okay, buddy," he whispers, his voice a gentle static. Plankton's antennae twitch one last time before stilling, his eye fully closed. The nurse nods, satisfied with his vitals. "He's out," she says as his soft snores fill the room.

KAREN REACHING AUTISM pt. 12 (Autistic author) 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 Sandy's eyes follow his finger as it traces through the grid. "Ah, here it is," she says, her voice a calm hum. "I'm gonna go find Karen, I'll be back!" But then Mr. Krabs, who hasn't had Plankton try to steal the formula since the fry pan incident, comes in to check and see what he's up to. "What are ye doing?" Mr. Krabs snaps, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Why isn't this little troublemaker trying to steal me formula?" Plankton's antennae wilt at the sound of Mr. Krabs' gruff voice, his sensory haven shattered by the intrusion. Mr. Krabs storms into the room, his claws waving in the air. "What's this nonsense?" he barks, his voice a thunderclap to Plankton. "A book; more like some blueprints!" Mr. Krabs sneers, his claws snatching the word search from Plankton's trembling hands. Plankton's eye widens with horror as Mr. Krabs crinkles the pages, ripping up the book. Mr. Krabs rips the pages with a satisfied smirk, his eyes gleaming with malice. "This is what happens when ye too cozy with the enemy," he says, his voice a harsh crackle as he tips the bookshelf onto the floor with a bang. Plankton's antennae snap back, his body tense with fear. The painful memory of the frying pan flashes through his mind, his voice a terrified static. "No!" he squeaks. Mr. Krabs looms over him, his eyes a cold, hard gleam. "What's wrong with ye?" he barks, his voice a rough scratch of sarcasm. "Ye gonna cry?" Plankton's eye fills with tears. "No," he whimpers. Mr. Krabs laughs, his cackle echoing through the room. "Look at the tiny thief, so scared of a little noise!" he sneers, his voice a grating static. Plankton's body shrinks, his antennae drooping. "Krabs," he whispers, his voice a desperate static. Mr. Krabs' laughter fills the room, his claws still gripping the torn pages. "Look at the wittle thief," he mocks, his voice a cruel cackle. Plankton's single eye darts around the room, seeking escape from the crushing wave of stimulation. The pressure of Mr. Krabs' stare is like a boulder on his chest. "What's the matter, Plankton?" Mr. Krabs sneers, leaning down so his face is inches from Plankton's. "Afraid I'll catch you red- handed?" Plankton's antennae flatten against his head, his breath quick and shallow. "No," he whispers, his voice a static hiss of fear. Mr. Krabs' looming presence is like a shadow over him, his voice a grating buzz. "What's the matter, Plankton?" he sneers. "Can't handle a little competition?" Plankton flinches, his antennae retracting. The pressure of the crab's eyes bore into his soul, his voice a panicked static. "No, Mr. Krabs, please," he whispers. Mr. Krabs' claw slams down onto the coffee table, the impact rattling everything on it. "I see," he says, his voice a cruel chuckle. "Ye've gone soft."

ᴰᵉⁿᵗⁱˢᵗ ᴬᵖᵖᵒⁱⁿᵗᵐᵉⁿᵗ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ Part 2 ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ʸᵉˢᵗᵉʳᵈᵃʸ'ˢ ᵒʳᵃˡ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉʳʸ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒʷ ʷᵒᵏᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰ ˢᵒʳᵉ ᵃᶜʰᵉˢ⸴ ⁿᵒ ᵗʳᵃᶜᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ˢᵉᵈᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ˡᵉᶠᵗ‧ ᴴⁱˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵉᵉˢ ʰⁱᵐ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ⁿᵒʷ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰᵉʸ⸴ ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ˢⁱᵗ?" ᴮᵘᵗ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵘⁿᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃⁿᵃᵍᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵘᵖ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵇᵃᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ‧ 'ᴹʸ ᶠᵃᶜᵉ⸴ ʷᵃⁱᵗ ᵐʸ ᵈᵉⁿᵗⁱˢᵗ ᵃᵖᵖᵒⁱⁿᵗᵐᵉⁿᵗ‧‧‧' ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ ⁿᵒʷ‧ "ᴰᵒᵉˢ ⁱᵗ ʰᵘʳᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃˡᵏ? ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵍᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ⁱᶜᵉ‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ⸴ ʳᵉᵗʳⁱᵉᵛⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ⁱᶜᵉ‧ 'ᴵ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᴵ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈⁱᵈ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵐʸ ʷⁱˢᵈᵒᵐ‧‧‧' ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏˢ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗʳᵃⁱˡˢ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᶜᵒᵒˡ ˢᵉⁿˢᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʳᵉᵐᵒᵛᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵃᵘᶻᵉ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ˡᵃˢᵗ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵒˡᵈ ᵍᵃᵘᶻᵉ ᵈʳⁱᵖˢ ʳᵉᵈ ᵈʳᵒᵖˢ ᵒⁿ ᵃ ᵗᵒʷᵉˡ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵈᵒᵉˢⁿ'ᵗ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵍᵉᵗˢ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃ ⁿᵉʷ ᵒⁿᵉ‧ "ᴴᵒʷ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ⁱᶜᵉ ᶜʳᵉᵃᵐ ᵒʳ ᵃ ᵈʳⁱⁿᵏ ᵒᶠ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ? ᴼʳ ᵇᵒᵗʰ? ᴺᵒ?" "ᴵ ʰ⁻⁻⁻ʰᵘʳᵗⁱⁿᵍ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷⁱⁿᶜᵉᵈ⸴ ʷᵒʳˢᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ʳᵉᶠᵉʳʳᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃᵐᵖʰˡᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ‧ "ᴵᵗ'ˢ ⁿᵒʳᵐᵃˡ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃᵐᵖʰˡᵉᵗ ˢᵃʸˢ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗˢ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱᶜᵉ ˢᵒᵒᵗʰᵉˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ᶠᵃˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜʳⁱᵉˢ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵘʳⁿˢ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʳᵉᵃᶜʰᵉˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵃʳᵐˢ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ ˡⁱᵏᵉ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷⁱˢʰᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵇʸ ʰⁱᵐ ⁿᵒʷ‧ "ᴴᵘᵍᵍˡᵉ‧" 'ᴴᵘᵍᵍˡʸ?' "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ᵈ ʰᵘᵍᵍˡᵉ‧" ᔆʰᵉ ᵍᵉᵗˢ ᵇʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃˡˡᵒʷᵉᵈ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃⁿᵒᵉᵘᵛʳᵉ ʰᵉʳ ᵃʳᵐ ʰᵒʷ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗᵃᵇˡᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵐᵒᵛᵉᵈ ʰᵉʳ ᵗʰᵘᵐᵇ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵒʳᵗʰ ᵒⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵒᵒᵗʰᵉ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁱⁿˢᵗᵃⁿᵗˡʸ ˢᵃʷ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ⁿᵒʷ⸴ ᵉᵛᵉⁿᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᶠᵃˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ ᴸᵉᵃⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵍᵃᵘᶻᵉ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ˢᵒ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵈⁱˢᵖᵒˢᵉᵈ ᵒᶠ ⁱᵗ‧ 'ᴺᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵈ ᵃⁿʸ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᴵ ˢᵉᵉ' ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ⸴ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ ⁿᵒ ˡᵒⁿᵍᵉʳ ᵇˡᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵃˢ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃʸᵉᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵈᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵒᵛᵉ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ˢʰᵉ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱᶜᵉ ᵇᵉᵍⁱⁿⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ᵐᵉˡᵗⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒ ˢʰᵉ ᵖᵘᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠʳᵉᵉᶻᵉʳ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃˢ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ⸴ ᶜᵃʳᵉᶠᵘˡˡʸ ᵍᵉⁿᵗˡᵉ ˢᵒ ᵃˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵈⁱˢᵗᵘʳᵇ ⁿᵒʳ ʰᵘʳᵗ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᵇʳᵒʷ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᶠᵘʳʳᵒʷᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶜᵒⁿᵗⁱⁿᵘᵉˢ ˢⁿᵒʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ⁱᶠ ˢʰᵉ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ˡᵉᶠᵗ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉᵈ‧ ᴺᵒᵗ ᵐⁱⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈʳᵒᵒˡ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃᶜᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵉⁿʲᵒʸᵉᵈ ˡⁱˢᵗᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃʸ ʰᵉ ˢⁿᵒʳᵉᵈ⸴ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ˢᵒ ᵍˡᵃᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ‧ end finale

KAREN REACHING AUTISM pt. 15 (Autistic author) ᵂᵃʳⁿⁱⁿᵍˢ: ʰᵒˢᵖⁱᵗᵃˡ Sandy and Sponge Bob leave the room while Karen stays for the surgery. The doctor's tentacles move with practiced ease. The room hummed with a gentle consistency of medical equipment, designed to avoid jarring sounds. The doctor's eyes were focused, his voice a steady rhythm of instructions for the nurse. She put the IV in, a swift and precise motion, and Plankton's snores remained undisturbed. The surgery begins, each movement calculated to minimize pain. The doctor's tentacles dance around the broken limb, his touch as light as a feather. The smell of antiseptic hangs in the air, but it's faint, not overwhelming. Plankton's body lies still, his snores the only sound besides the low whisper of instruments coating the bone. The nurse's eyes flick to the clock on the wall, the seconds ticking by like a metronome to the rhythm of the doctor's work. The room is a symphony of soft sounds: the steady beep of the heart monitor, the low mumble of the doctor's instructions. Plankton's tiny body lies motionless, his snores the only evidence of life. They put his leg in a cast and unhook the IV. Sponge Bob and Sandy wait outside, their minds racing with worries and hope. Their conversation is whispers, not wanting to disturb the peaceful hum of the Quiet Bubble Clinic. The nurse beckons them back in. "The surgery was a success," she says, her voice a gentle gust of relief. Plankton lies in the bed, his leg now encased in a cast. His snores are quieter, his body less tense. Sponge Bob and Sandy hover by his side, their eyes locked on his peaceful face. "But we need to be prepared for his waking," the nurse continues, her voice a soft warning. "He might wake up feeling disoriented or overwhelmed. Also, it takes time for the anesthesia to fully wear off, so he might be groggy and silly, sleepy or even a bit forgetful." They nod, their expressions a mix of gratitude and anticipation. The doctor enters the room, his tentacles wiped clean of any sign of surgery. "He'll need to stay here for a bit, to recover," he says, his voice a gentle rumble. "But you can stay with him. After he's fully awake, you can take him home! Just be careful, of course." Sponge Bob's eyes light up, his grip on Plankton's hand tightening. "We'll make sure he's okay," he says, his voice a promise. Sandy nods, her face a mask of determined calm. "Thank you," Karen says, her voice a gentle hum of appreciation. The doctor nods, his tentacles flicking a dismissive wave. "It's what we're here for," he says, his voice a warm rumble. "Now, let's get him settled." They work together, Sponge Bob and Sandy supporting Plankton as they move his bed to a recovery room, his body still asleep as Karen holds his hand. The room is painted with soft, soothing colors, and the bed is surrounded by pillows and blankets that seem to swallow his small frame. The lights are dimmed, a stark contrast to the stark whites and harsh florescents of a normal hospital. Sponge Bob sits on the chair beside his bed, his eyes never leaving Plankton's sleeping face. The gentle whirl of a fan in the corner provides white noise, a comforting constant hum that fills the silence. Sandy sits on the other side, her hand resting lightly on the foot of the bed. Her eyes are glued to a book titled "Understanding Neurodivergence in Friends," her expression focused. Karen meanwhile was holding his other hand. Plankton's antennae twitches as the gentle hum of the recovery room starts to pierce his slumber. His single eye opens to a sliver, taking in the soft, blurry world around him. He blinks, trying to focus, and sees Karen first. "Hey, buddy," she says, her voice a warm buzz of comfort. "You're okay." Plankton's eye widens, his brain foggy from the anesthesia. "Wheh..." he starts, his voice a static whisper. Sponge Bob's hand squeezes his gently. "You're at the Quiet Bubble Clinic," he says, his voice a soft wave of reassurance. "You had your leg fixed." Plankton's antennae wave slowly, his eye blinking as realization sets in. "Mr. Krabs," he whispers, his voice a static memory of pain. Sponge Bob's thumb pauses in its comforting rhythm. "Don't worry about him now," he says, his voice a gentle lapping of waves. "You're safe here." Plankton's antennae twitch with confusion, his mind a foggy storm of memories. He tries to sit up, but the nurse's firm hand gently pushes him back down. "Easy," she whispers, her voice a soft breeze. "You need to rest." Sponge Bob's face is a picture of relief as Plankton's eye focusses on him. "Remember, buddy?" he asks, his voice a gentle reminder. "You're safe." Plankton's antennae quiver with the echoes of pain, but the soothing presence of his friends begins to anchor him. He nods slightly, his voice a static rustle. "Sandy?" he asks, his gaze shifting to her. Sandy looks up from her book, her eyes soft. "I'm here," she says, her voice a gentle hum. She sets the book aside and takes his hand. Plankton's antennae twitch with confusion, his eye darting around the room. The softness of the pillows and the gentle hum of the fan are alien to him. "Where...?" he whispers, his voice a static question. The nurse's smile is a beacon of calm. "You're at the Quiet Bubble Clinic," she says, her voice a comforting trill. "You're safe." Plankton's mind is a swirl of fuzzy images and half-remembered fears. He tries to piece together what happened, his antennae flailing for answers. The nurse's voice is a gentle guide, leading him through the mist. "You had surgery," she murmurs, her eyes kind. "Your leg is fixed now. Just rest." Plankton's eye blinks slowly, trying to comprehend the words. The pain is gone, replaced by a dull throb and the weight of the cast. He nods, his body still feeling the aftermath of the anesthesia's embrace. The room is a soft blur, the edges of his vision dancing with colors. He tries to lift his head, but it feels too heavy. Sponge Bob's grip is steady, keeping him grounded as the world slowly sharpens. Plankton's thoughts are like bubbles popping in the sea, each one briefly forming before disappearing into the depths. The nurse's voice is a distant lullaby, guiding his consciousness back to the surface. He blinks again, his vision slowly coming into focus. The nurse's face swims into view, her smile a lifeline in the murky water of his confusion. "You're okay," she whispers, her voice a gentle ripple. "Just rest." The room sways like an underwater garden, the soothing sounds of the recovery room a soft symphony that Plankton can't quite place. His mind is a kaleidoscope of half-formed thoughts. Sponge Bob's hand is a steady beacon, the gentle squeeze a comforting reminder that he's not alone. Plankton's eye widens as he takes in the sight of his friend, his face a canvas of concern. "You're okay," Sponge Bob whispers, his voice a gentle wave washing over the static in Plankton's mind. Suddenly, Sponge Bob's phone beeps, a video call request from an unexpected name: Mr. Krabs. Sandy's eyes widen and she looks at Sponge Bob, who nods slowly, his heart pounding in his chest. He accepts the call, the screen filling with the familiar craggy face of their grumpy neighbor. Mr. Krabs looks sheepish, his eyes darting around the screen. "Plankton," he starts, his voice a gruff whisper. "I heard what happened with the autism and broken leg.." Sponge Bob's grip on Plankton's hand tightens, his face a mask of caution. Plankton's antennas quiver with apprehension. "What Krabs want?" Plankton mumbles, his voice a static hiss. His single eye narrows. Mr. Krabs clears his throat, his face a portrait of discomfort. "Look, Plankton, I... I wanted to say... I'm sorry." His eyes dart to the side, avoiding the camera. Plankton's antennae stand on end, his eye unblinking. "What for?" he asks, his voice a wary whisper. Mr. Krabs' face scrunches up, his claws fidgeting with his apron strings. "For, uh, you know, the frying pan... and the... uh, everything." Plankton's antennae twitch with surprise, his voice a static hush. "Why?" Mr. Krabs looks away, his eyes anywhere but on the screen. "I know I've been... rough on you lately," he says, his voice a gruff rumble. "And I didn't know about the... the autism thing. It's just, the Krabby Patty formula is all I've got, and I can't... I don't know how to make it up to ye but I just called to let ye know." Plankton's antennae quiver with shock, his eye wide. "Mr. Krabs," he whispers, his voice a static hum. "Is this... real?" Mr. Krabs nods, his face a map of regret. "Yeah, it's me," he says, his voice a gruff mumble. "I know I've not been the best... neighbor, or... frenemy." Sponge Bob's eyes are wide, his grip on Plankton's hand unwavering. Sandy's jaw is slack with disbelief. "Mr. Krabs," Karen's voice is a cautious whisper. "That's... really nice of you to say." Mr. Krabs nods, his eyes returning to the screen. "It's just, I've seen what you've gone through, and I... I shouldn't have hurt you." His claws fiddle with his apron, a rare show of vulnerability. "And I forgive ye."

I love you 💗🫶🏽💕🤍i️

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."

AUTISM IN THE PLANKTON FAMILY i (Autistic author) Karen's husband, Plankton, was arguing with Mr. Krabs as usual. They've had their fair share of disputes over the years, but this one seemed to be escalating fast. Without warning, Mr. Krabs swung the stove from his kitchen with all his might. It connected with a sickening thud against Plankton's head. Karen gasped as her husband crumpled to the ground. Plankton's eye had rolled back and closed, his body going still as Mr. Krabs left back. Karen knelt beside Plankton and gently tapped his cheek. "Wake up," she murmured, voice trembling. No response. She tried again, her voice a little louder. "Honey, can you hear me?" Plankton's eye remained closed, his antennae limp. Panic began to creep in. Her mind raced with possibilities, each more frightening than the last. What if his tiny brain had been damaged? What if he was in a coma? What if he never woke up? She cradled his minuscule form. The room grew silent as the gravity of the situation sank in, willing Plankton to stir. A tear trickled down her screen. Karen felt for a pulse. It was there, faint but steady. She let out a sigh of relief and picked his tiny body up, cradling him carefully. "I've got to get him to a doctor," she thought. She held Plankton's hand as they performed a brain scan. Karen sat by her husband's side as the machines around Plankton beeped and whirred. The sterile smell of the hospital filled, and the cold white walls seemed to press in around them. Plankton's lying still on the hospital bed. A thick bandage was wrapped around his head, and various tubes connected him to monitors that displayed a symphony of lines and numbers, none of which meant anything to her. She squeezed his hand gently, willing him to wake up. The doctor walked into the room, his lab coat fluttering slightly as he moved. He held a clipboard carefully in his tentacles, studying the information with a furrowed brow. "Mrs. Plankton," he began, his voice soft, "We've finished scans. The good news is that it's not life- threatening. However, we've noticed some sustained atypical brain activity." Karen's eyes widened. "What does that mean?" she asked, her grip on Plankton's hand tightening. The doctor sighed, his expression sympathetic. "Autism. His behavior may change. He might become more focused on his routines, have difficulty with social interactions, and exhibit sensory sensitivity. It's permanent, and no cure. We expect him to wake up soon. We'll ask him some questions to assess and then you can take him home." Karen felt her heart drop. She knew about autism, had read about it in magazines, but never thought it would affect her own family. The doctor left the room, and she was alone with her thoughts, watching Plankton's chest rise and fall as they remove the bandage. The hours ticked by in agonizing slowness as she sat there, praying for him to wake up. The only sounds were the rhythmic beeping of the monitors and the occasional muffled conversations from the hallway. Finally, Plankton's eyelid fluttered. He groaned softly, and his hand twitched in hers. Karen leaned in, hope surging through her. "Plankton?" she whispered, her voice thick with emotion as she smiled through her tears. "I'm here," she said, voice shaky. "You're in the hospital, but you're ok." Plankton's eye opened, squinting in the bright lights. He looked around the room, confusion etched on his tiny face. Slowly, his gaze landed on Karen. "What happened?" he croaked, his voice weak. "Mr. Krabs hit you with a stove," Karen explained, her voice a mix of relief and sadness. "They diagnosed you with acquired Autism." The doctor approached with a gentle nod. "Plankton, can you tell me your name?" he asked, ready to jot down notes. Plankton's eye searched the room, finally settling on Karen. "Sheldon Jay Plankton." Karen's grip on his hand tightened offering silent encouragement. The doctor nodded and proceeded with questions. "Tell me when you're born?" "July 31, 1999 10:16.08 am ET!" Karen felt a twinge of pride at her husband's precise answer. The doctor nodded, scribbling something on his clipboard. "Tell me more about yourself.." "More about yourself." Plankton echoed. The doctor's offering a gentle smile. "Echolalia. It's a trait that's common in individuals with autism. It can help him process information. Well Plankton has no need for therapy, yet you may want to adjust your daily lives to accommodate. You're free to go!" The drive back to the Chum Bucket was silent, the weight of the diagnosis pressing down on Karen's shoulders. He was quiet too, his eye fixed on the passing scenery. He didn't seem to notice the difference in himself, but Karen knew their lives were changed. Once home, Karen helped Plankton into his favorite chair, surrounded by his inventions and gadgets. The room was a mess, but it was his sanctuary, and she didn't want to disturb it. He seemed more at ease, his eye flicking from one object to another with a sense of familiarity. Would Plankton be the same? Would he still laugh at her jokes, or get angry at the Krabby Patty secret formula? Plankton remained silent, his gaze still locked on his surroundings. Karen felt a pang of worry. Would his obsessive nature become more pronounced? "It's getting late, Plankton." Karen's voice was soft as she guided him to their bedroom. He followed without protest, his movements mechanical. She helped him into bed, pulling the blankets up to his chin with a gentle tuck. Plankton lay there, staring at the ceiling, his thoughts a swirl of confusion. "Do you need anything?" she asked, her voice a gentle hum in the quiet room. "Stay, Karen stay." He says. Karen nodded, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. "Of course, I'll stay," she assured him, trying to keep her voice steady. She took his hand again, feeling the warmth of his palm against hers. She didn't know what the future held, but she knew she'd be by his side. As Plankton's breathing evened out into the rhythm of sleep, Karen sat there, watching him. She noticed how his grip on her hand had loosened, but didn't dare move. The next day, Karen woke before Plankton did. She hovered over him, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest. How was she going to wake him up without startling him? She knew that sudden noises could be overwhelming for him now. Karen took a different approach. She stroked his arm with a feather-light touch. His eye brow flinched. Next, she tried speaking his name, starting with a whisper and gradually getting louder. "Plankton," she called, "It's time to wake up." His eyelid twitched, and he blinked his eye open. He looked around. "Karen?" he asked. She nodded with a smile. "Good morning, honey," she said softly. "How are you feeling?" Plankton sat up slowly, his antennae twitching as he took in his surroundings. "Different," he murmured, rubbing his temple. "We're home, Plankton. Remember what happened?" He nodded, his eye glazed over for a moment. "Krabs. The stove." "Yes, but you're ok now," Karen reassured, stroking his cheek with her finger. Plankton nodded again, his antennae twitching nervously. Karen noticed that his movements were more deliberate, his gaze more intense. She decided to keep things simple to avoid overwhelming him with too much information at once. "Let's get breakfast," she suggested. Plankton followed her into the kitchen, his steps slower than usual. The clanking of pans and the sizzle of oil had always been a familiar symphony in their home, but today it felt alien, like a disturbance to his newly heightened senses. Karen moved around the kitchen with precision, keeping the noises to a minimum. As she prepared their meal, Plankton stood by the counter, his gaze fixed. "Breakfast is ready," she said, sliding a plate of chum flapjacks in front of him. The smell usually brought him joy, but today it was overwhelming. Plankton took a step back. Karen's smile faltered, realizing she would have to adjust their meals. "Would you like something else?" she asked, her voice a soothing melody. Plankton nodded, his gaze not leaving the plate. "Different," he whispered. Karen knew she had to find foods that wouldn't overstimulate. She placed the flapjacks aside and found a jar of pureed peas and plain yogurt. She hoped the blandness would be more soothing. Plankton's antennae twitched as he came closer. He stared at the bowl intently, then took a tentative spoonful. The texture was soothing, and the color was calming. He ate slowly, each bite measured and deliberate. Karen watched him with love and concern. She wanted to ask if he liked it, but she knew better than to interrupt his focus. Once Plankton had finished, he looked up at her with a hint of a smile. "Good," he said. It was the closest thing to praise she had heard from him since the incident. Karen cleared the table, her mind racing with questions about what the future held. How would Plankton's new autism affect their daily lives? "Now what would you like to do, Plankton?" She asks. He looks at her. "Read." The old spark seems to flicker back to life, albeit with a different intensity. Karen nods, leading him back to his lab. The room is a mess of wires and gadgets, but Plankton moves through it with purpose. He selects a book from the shelf, a manual on quantum physics that had been collecting dust. His gaze flits over the pages, absorbing the information with fervor. Karen watches him from a distance. This was her Plankton, but also new. His obsession with the Krabby Patty formula had always been intense, but now his focus was lasered in on the book, his mind racing through equations and theories. The room was silent except for the soft rustle of pages turning. Plankton didn't look up from his book, lost in a world of science and theories. Karen knew she had to let him be, to find his new normal.

NEW REALITY i (Autistic author) "You never listen to me, Karen," Plankton groused. "It's a new analyzer I just built! It'll reveal the contents of a patty when I put one in!" Karen, ever the skeptical wife, rolled her eyes. "You mean IF you put one in.." Plankton ignored her sarcasm, but with a deafening pop, the analyzer exploded, sending shards of metal flying in all directions. One of these sharp pieces slammed into Plankton's head, causing him to stumble back. Karen rushed to his side, pushing aside her initial irritation. Plankton's eye rolled back and closed as he crumpled to the floor. "Plankton! Plankton!" Karen's voice grew frantic as she cradled his tiny, limp body. The analyzer's explosion had caused more damage than she could have ever imagined, the injury had rewired his currently unconscious brain irreversibly: autism. Karen carries him to their bedroom, tucking him in his bed. "Plankton," she whispers, brushing his antennae, "Please wake up." But Plankton remains still. Karen sits by the bedside, her eyes never leaving his face. "I'll always be here," she murmurs, squeezing his hand. The quiet hum of their tiny underwater apartment is broken only by the rhythmic pulse of his breathing. Karen starts to think. If only she had taken his inventions more seriously, maybe this accident could have been avoided? She looks at the clock. It's midnight now. The hours tick by, each one lonelier than the last. Karen's thoughts are a tangled web of regrets and fears. What if Plankton never wakes up? Karen can't help but feel like a prisoner to her own guilt. She wonders what their life would be like now. Would Plankton be different? Would he still be the same eccentric genius, or would the injury change him completely? Will he remember her? The sun's first light filters through their bedroom window, casting a warm glow on Plankton's face. Karen's eyes snap open, having dozed off from exhaustion. She sees him stir, his eyelid fluttering. He groans, his eye opening slowly. Karen's heart races. He's alive! "K-Karen," he stammers, confused as to how he ended up in their room. The initial relief is quickly replaced with a knot in her stomach. His speech is stilted, his movements jerky. He tries to sit up, but the effort seems to overwhelm him. Karen reaches out to help, but he flinches at her touch. She notices his eye scanning the room with an intensity she's never seen before, as if he's trying to make sense of everything around him. "Plankton, it's okay," she says soothingly, trying not to let her anxiety seep into her voice. He turns to her, his gaze unfocused. "Karen?" he repeats, this time with more urgency. "What... what happened?" Her heart squeezes tight. "You had an accident with the new analyzer," she explains gently, keeping her voice calm. "It... it exploded and hit you.." Plankton looks around, his eye darting from object to object. "It's okay," Karen says, desperately trying to hold back the tears. "You're just a bit dizzy." But Plankton doesn't seem to be listening. He's too busy inspecting his surroundings, his eye darting around the room in a way that makes Karen feel like she's missing something. "Plankton, do you understand me?" Karen asks, her voice trembling slightly. He nods, but there's a distant look in his eye that makes her stomach drop. The way he's acting, it's like he's seeing their bedroom for the first time, like every detail is both fascinating and overwhelming. Plankton tries to get out of bed, but his legs wobble like jelly. Karen jumps up to support him, her arms wrapping around his thin frame. "Let's go slow," she suggests, guiding him back to the pillows. He simply nods. "Do you remember me?" Karen asks, desperation tinging her voice. His eye focus on her for a moment, then drift away again. "Yes," he says, but it's more of a question than an affirmation. "Karen, wife," he adds, his voice flat and devoid of the usual warmth and sarcasm. The words hang in the air like a lead weight, heavy with implications. Karen swallows the lump in her throat. "You're okay," she insists, as Plankton nods, looking around their bedroom when his gaze lands on the ceiling fan. His eye lights up, focusing intently on it. "Fan," he murmurs, as if discovering the concept for the first time. "Spinning. Round and round." Karen's heart sinks. "Plankton," she begins, her voice cracking, "You're acting different." She doesn't know how to explain what she's seeing, but she's scared of what it might mean. His eye doesn't quite meet hers, and his speech is so... mechanical. "Different?" he echoes, his voice a monotone. "No, the same Plankton." But the way he says it, like he's trying to convince himself, sends a chill down Karen's spine. She tries to shake off the fear, telling herself he's just groggy from the hit. But deep down, she knows it's more than that.