Iii Emojis & Text

CATCH IN MY CHIP iii
(Autistic author)

They sit in silence for a few
moments, Chip's screen glued to
his dad's still form. The only
sound is the steady rhythm of
Plankton's shallow breathing.

As the minutes tick by, Chip's
thoughts swirl with confusion and
guilt. He had no idea that his
dad's quirks and sensitivities were
part of something so complex.
He'd just thought Plankton was
easily annoyed or tired.

Karen notices his son's distress
and decides it's time to explain
more. "You know how sometimes
you get really excited about
something, and you just can't
keep it in?" she asks.

Chip nods. "Yeah, like when I
see a new toy or when I've got
a great idea for a sandcastle."

"Well, for Dad, it's like that
all the time," Karen continues.
"Every little thing can be a
big deal, and sometimes it's just
too much." She pauses, looking at
Plankton with a mix of love and
concern. "But he's also the smartest
person I know, and he loves you
so much. That's what's important."

Chip nods, his eyes filling
with tears as he watches
his mom care for his dad. He'd
always felt a bit left out, not
understanding why Plankton would
sometimes retreat from the world.
But now he gets it. It's not that
his dad didn't want to share in
his excitement, it's just that sometimes,
the world was too much for him.

"Mom, I'm sorry," he whispers, his
throat tight with emotion. "I didn't
mean to make him... like this."

Karen pulls him into a warm
embrace. "You didn't do anything
wrong, Chip. This isn't your fault.
Dad's brain just works differently.
And now that we know, we can help
each other understand."

Chip sniffles against her,
his thoughts racing. "Does
he know what's happening
or can he understand us?"

"Sometimes he can," Karen says,
her voice low and soothing. "But
right now, I don't think he realizes
anything's happening around him."

"What if he doesn't wake up?"
The fear in his voice is palpable.

"He will, honey," Karen says, her
tone reassuring. "It just takes
a little time. It's like when you're
really tired and you need a nap.
His brain needs to rest."

The room is quiet except for
the occasional sound of the
air conditioner kicking in,
a stark contrast to the excitement
that had filled it just moments ago.
Chip watches his dad, feeling a
wave of emotion wash over him.
He wants to laugh and share more
stories, but he knows now that
his dad's brain needs a break.

As they wait, Karen starts to
clean up the mess Chip made.
The sand and papers scattered
across the floor seem so trivial
now, a stark reminder of the chaos
his enthusiasm can create for
his dad. He helps her, carefully
picking up each piece, placing
them back into their rightful
spots. His mind is racing with
thoughts of how to be a better
son, how to make sure his dad
doesn't feel like this again.

They work in silence, the only
sounds the rustling of papers and
the occasional clank of a metal
item being set back on the desk.
The room slowly transforms back
to its usual state of order, a stark
contrast to the turmoil Plankton
was experiencing. Chip's eyes never
leave his dad, hoping to see
any sign of improvement.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity,
Plankton's eye blinks, and the tension
in the room shifts. His breathing
becomes deeper and more regular.
Karen's shoulders relax as she sees
the first signs of Plankton coming
back to himself. She gives Chip's hand
a gentle squeeze. "Look, honey. He's
starting to come out of it."

Chip stares, hope filling his chest.
Plankton's antennas twitch slightly.
He blinks a few more times, as if trying
to bring the room into focus. "What...
what happened?" His voice is weak,
almost a whisper.

Karen's grip tightens on Chip's hand.
"You just needed a little break,
sweetie," she says softly. "It's okay."

new catch in my chip Chip Plankton II iii

GREAT CHIP iii
(Autistic author)

Karen followed, her screen
on her husband's tentative steps.
"Chip," she called out softly,
knocking gently. "Can we come in?"

There was no immediate response,
just the faint sound of sniffling.
"It's ok, sweetie," she said.
"Your dad and I want to talk to you."

Slowly, the door cracked open,
and Chip's tear-stained screen peeked out.
His eyes searched theirs, looking
for answers, for reassurance.

Plankton's heart twisted at the sight.
He had never wanted to cause his son
any pain, especially not like this.
He felt a wave of self-consciousness
wash over him as he stepped into the room,
his every move feeling clumsy and exposed.

"Chip," he began, 
his voice strained,
"It's just..."

Plankton's words trailed off,
his gaze flitting around the room
as if searching for the right ones.
The air felt thick with tension.

Chip looked up at him, his eyes
swollen with unshed tears.
"Dad, I'm sorry," he managed to say,
his voice thick with emotion.

But Plankton's anger hadn't
subsided entirely. "You shouldn't have
touched me," he snapped, his voice
sharp, his frustration still palpable.
"You now know better than that!"

Chip flinched at his father's tone,
his own eyes brimming with tears.
"But Dad, I didn't mean to," he protested.

Plankton's gaze was unyielding.
"You should know better!" he insisted,
his voice echoing with accusation.
"You're not a baby anymore!"

Chip's eyes fell to the floor,
his shoulders shaking 
with held-back sobs.
"But I didn't know!" he choked out,
his voice small and defensive.

"Well, now you do," Plankton said firmly,
his eye still avoiding Chip's.
"You have to respect my space!"
The room felt too small,
his emotions too big.

Chip's face crumpled, his voice
barely audible. "I just wanted
to..."

But Plankton's anger was like
a storm, unyielding. "I don't care
what you wanted!" he shouted. "You
can't just touch me like that!"

The room felt like it was closing in,
his heart racing faster with each word.
He saw the hurt on Chip's face, but
his own emotions were a tornado
whipping through his thoughts.
He couldn't stop, couldn't apologize.

"It's your fault for not knowing!"
Plankton's voice was like thunder,
filling the room with accusation.
Karen's eyes grew wide with shock,
but she didn't dare to interrupt.

Chip's sobs grew louder, his body
shaking with the weight of his father's
wrath. "But I didn't know, Dad,"
he pleaded, his voice thick with pain.

Plankton's eye was like a stone,
his words cutting through the air.
"That's no excuse!" he bellowed.
"You should've learned by now!
Or are you just to busy with your
silly games and neurotypical friends
to care about your own father?"

Chip's shoulders shook
as he tried to hold back his sobs.
He didn't know what to say,
his mind a jumble of emotions.
All he knew was that he had hurt
his dad, and now his dad was hurt
and mad at him.

"Dad, I'm sorry," he whispered again,
his voice trembling.
"It was an accident, I didn't know!"
But Plankton's anger didn't abate.

"Accident or not, you should've known better!"
Plankton's voice grew louder,
his words piercing the air like knives.
"You're not a baby anymore, so
don't act like one!"

Chip felt his world crumbling.
He didn't mean to upset Dad,
but he didn't know what to do.
He just wanted to help, to show
his love, but it all went wrong.

"But Dad," he tried again, his voice
barely a whisper, "I didn't mean to..."

"I DON'T CARE!" Plankton roared,
his anger a living, breathing entity
that filled the room. His words were
sharp, like shards of glass in the air.

Chip's sobs grew louder, his heart
breaking with each accusation.
He didn't understand why his dad
was so mad at him. "I'm sorry," he choked,
his voice barely audible. "I didn't know..."

Plankton's anger didn't waver.
"You never know!" he spat. "You
never pay attention!" His words were
like a whip, each one stinging Chip's
already bruised heart. "You think
the world revolves around you!"

Chip's eyes were a pool of tears,
his body trembling as he tried to
find the right words. "But Dad,
I just..."

Plankton's anger grew with each
of Chip's stumbling attempts.
"You just what?" he snarled,
his senses overwhelmed by the
emotional turmoil. He felt
the urge to break something,
anything to release the pressure
building in his chest.

With a roar, he swiped
his hand across Chip's desk,
sending papers flying and toys clattering
to the floor. "DO YOU SEE?"
he yelled, his voice shaking
the walls. "DO YOU SEE HOW YOU
MAKE ME FEEL?"

Chip cowered, his eyes
locked on the chaos, his mind
whirling. He hadn't meant to make
his dad feel like this. He didn't
understand why his curiosity
was so wrong. "I'm sorry,"
he whispered again, his voice
tiny and lost in the maelstrom
of Plankton's rage.

Plankton's eye was wild,
his movements erratic. He knew
his anger was a storm, but
he couldn't stop it. The room
spun around him, his thoughts
a jumbled mess. He felt a hand
on his arm, Karen's voice cutting
through the noise in his head.
"Plankton, please," she begged.

But he shrugged her off, his rage
now a living, breathing monster
inside of him. He picked up
a toy, one of Chip's beloved creations,
and threw it across the room.
It shattered against the wall,
the sound piercing the silence
that followed. Chip's sobs
grew quieter, his body trembling
with fear.

"This," Plankton said,
his voice low and dangerous,
"is what you do to me."
He picked up another toy,
his hand shaking with anger.
"This is what your curiosity does!"

Chip's eyes widened with fear
as Plankton's hand arced back,
ready to hurl it. But as
the toy could leave his grip,
his body seized up again,
his legs buckling. Another
absence seizure had struck.

Karen's heart raced as she watched
her husband's uncontrolled
movements. She knew she had to
intervene before things escalated.
She rushed to Plankton's side,
grabbing his arm to steady him.
"Stop," she whispered urgently.

Chip's sobs grew quieter,
his eyes wide with fear.
He had never seen his dad
so out of control before.

Plankton's seizure
was taking over, his body
betraying him once again.

Karen's voice pierced
the chaos, a beacon of calm.
"Chip, let me handle this."

Her son nodded, his eyes
never leaving his dad's
shaky form.

Karen turned to Plankton's
form, supporting.
"Come on," she said firmly,
guiding his trembling form
to their own bedroom.
"Let's sit down, okay?"

As they do, Plankton's
still caught in the throes
of the seizure.

Chip felt like he was watching
a stranger, his dad's body
twitching uncontrollably.
He didn't know what to do.

new great chip fitscore iii

A LIFE OF DIVERSITY iii
(Autistic author)

"It's okay, Plankton," Sponge 
Bob said, his voice soothing. 
"We're just going for a walk. 
Nothing to worry about."

The three of them walked in 
silence for a while, the only 
sounds the lapping of the 
waves and the occasional 
squawk of a seagull. Karen 
could feel the tension, and 
she wondered what was going 
on inside his head.

As they neared the jellyfish fields 
Sponge Bob perked up. "Hey, 
Plankton, you remember jellyfishing
right?" He asked, his tone hopeful.

Plankton's antennae stopped the 
nervous twitching for a moment. 
"Jellyfishing," he murmured, the 
memory sparking a glimmer of 
interest. "Jellyfish sting."

Sponge Bob's smile grew wider. 
"Yeah, but it's fun, right?" He said
trying to keep the conversation 
light. Karen could see the effort 
in his eyes and felt a pang of guilt 
for ever thinking poorly of him.

"Jellyfish... fun," Plankton repeated, his 
voice still flat.

Sponge Bob looked at him, his smile fading 
slightly. "Yeah, jellyfishing's the best!" he said 
trying to keep the energy up. "Remember all 
the good times we had?"

Plankton nodded, his gaze distant. "Good 
times," he echoed.

Sponge Bob's smile faltered, and he shot a 
questioning glance at Karen. "Is everything ok 
with Plankton?" he asked, his voice tinged 
with concern.

Karen took and squeezed Plankton's 
hand. "Hold on, Sponge Bob," she said gently. 
"Plankton, can you find us a rock? A pretty 
sparkly rock."

Plankton's gaze snapped to hers, and she could 
see the gears turning in his head. He nodded, his 
antennae tilting slightly. "Find rock," he said, before 
going in the familiar jellyfish fields.

Sponge Bob watched him go, his expression a 
mix of confusion and concern. "Is Plankton ok
Karen?" he asked.

"He's just... different now," Karen said, voice 
tight with emotion. "He had an accident, and 
the doctor says 
he has acquired autism."

Sponge Bob's eyes went wide. "Hey I think 
I have that, too! But what does that mean 
for Plankton?" he asked, his voice filled with 
genuine concern.

"It means he's going to need some help," Karen 
said, her voice calm and measured. "He'll still be 
the same Plankton we know, but his brain works 
differently now."

Sponge Bob's eyes searched hers, trying 
to understand. "Different like how?"

Karen took a deep breath. "Well, he might repeat 
what we say," she began, watching Plankton as 
he picked up rocks and examined them. "It's 
called echolalia. It's a way for him to process 
language now."

Sponge Bob's eyes widened with understanding. 
"Oh, like a parrot!" he exclaimed, nodding.

Karen chuckled, despite the heaviness of the situation. 
"Sort of," she said, "but it's more than just repeating 
words. It's how he processes information now."

Sponge Bob watched Plankton, who had found a 
particularly shiny rock and was now examining it 
with intense focus. "What else, Karen?" he asked.

Karen took a deep breath, trying to explain as best 
she could. "Sometimes, Plankton might need more 
time to understand what people are saying to him."

Sponge Bob nodded, his eyes never leaving 
Plankton. "How might he act?"

Karen sighed, looking at the ocean. "Well, sometimes 
he might get overwhelmed by sounds, lights, or even 
textures," she said. "It's like his senses are on overload. 
Although he'll have it for the rest of his life, he can 
potentially improve his skills. It happened yesterday, 
I don't think you were working but Krabs hit Plankton's head.."

Sponge Bob's expression grew serious, and he nodded 
solemnly. "I'm really sorry to hear that, Karen," he said, 
his eyes filled with genuine empathy. "Plankton's always 
been pretty tough, but I won't let Mr. Krabs know."

Plankton returned with the sparkly rock, his gaze still a bit 
unfocused. "Pretty rock," he said, holding it out to Karen.

Karen took the rock. "Thank you, Plankton," she said, her 
voice filled with warmth.

"Good find," Sponge Bob added, giving him an 
encouraging thumbs-up.

The walk continued, yet a distant wail of a boat's horn 
created a symphony that seemed to overwhelm him. 
He stopped, his antennae flattening against his head, 
his eye wide with distress.

"Too loud," he murmured, his voice strained.


Karen noticed Plankton's agitation. They guided him 
to a nearby bench, and he sat, his arms wrapped 
tightly around himself, rocking back and forth.

"It's okay, Plankton," she soothed, her voice calm. 
"Just breathe, darling."

Plankton's gaze remained fixed on the horizon, his 
antennae quivering.

"What's wrong, Plankton?" SpongeBob asked, voice 
filled with concern.

Plankton didn't respond, his eye squeezed shut as 
he hummed a tune to himself.

Karen and Sponge Bob sat beside him, giving him 
space and waiting for the overwhelming sound to 
pass. After a few moments, the boat's horn ceased 
and Plankton's breathing began to even out. He looks up,  
gaze still slightly unfocused.

"Plankton ok now?" Sponge Bob asked, his voice gentle.

Karen nodded. "I think so," she said, watching Plankton's 
antennae slowly untangle from their protective pose. 

"Sounds can be really intense for him now."

Sponge Bob nodded solemnly. "We'll keep it down 
then," he said, his voice a whisper.

Karen smiled gratefully at him. "Thank you, Sponge 
Bob," she said. "It means a lot."

They sat for a few more moments, the sound of the 
waves crashing against the shore acting as a soothing 
lullaby for Plankton. Finally, he spoke up, his voice still 
flat. "Home now," he said, his eye still on the horizon.

Karen nodded. "Alright, let's go home," she said, her voice 
gentle.

"SpongeBob?" Plankton asks, wanting him to come with.

Sponge Bob looks to Karen, who nods with a grateful smile. 
"We'd love for you to come, Sponge Bob," she says. "We can 
all help each other understand."

Plankton's gaze immediately falls on a biology 
book that's been lying on the coffee table, half 
open to a page about jellyfish. His antennae start 
twitching rapidly, and he picks it up with a new
found interest.

"Look, Karen," he says, his voice filled with excitement 
as he points to a picture of a jellyfish. "Jellyfish."

Karen nods. "Yes, Plankton," she says gently. "That's a 
jellyfish."

Plankton opens the book wider, eye scanning the pages 
with a fervor that was almost palpable. His antennae 
quivered with excitement as he absorbed every piece of 
information he could find about jellyfish. It was as if he 
had found a new obsession, a puzzle to solve that could 
potentially drown out the cacophony of the world around 
him. "Jellyfish," he murmurs to himself, his eye scanning 
the text. "Jellyfish sting. Jellyfish pretty."

Sponge Bob's curiosity peaks, and he leans over to look 
at the page Plankton is fixated on. "Jellyfish, huh?" He 
says, his voice soft so as not to disturb Plankton's focus.

Karen nods. "It's like he's trying to make sense of everything 
again," she explains. "It's one of his special interests now."

Sponge Bob nods. 

Karen watches as Plankton traces the outline 
of a jellyfish with his hand. "It's called hyper
fixation," she explains. "It's when extremely 
focused on something to the point where it's 
almost all he can think about."

Sponge Bob nods thoughtfully. "Well, Plankton 
I see you like the book of jellyfish?"

Plankton nods, his antennae still quivering with 
excitement. "Jellyfish book," he murmurs, his eye 
never leaving the page.

Sponge Bob nods, a smile spreading 
across his face. "I can see you really 
love jellyfish, Plankton," he says, 
trying to keep the conversation flowing.

new a life of diversity jellyfishcore iii

A JOURNEY TO AUTISM iii

(Autistic author)

Inside, she sets him down 
on their favorite couch, the one 
with the frayed edges and 
the squeaky spring that always 
reminded them of their first date. 
The room is cluttered with 
half-finished inventions and 
plans for Krabby Patty heists. 
She sits beside him.

The silence stretches on, 
heavier than a net full of 
anchovies. Plankton's antennas 
twitch, his eye darting around 
the room, taking in the chaos. 
Karen's mind is racing, 
wondering if he recognizes any 
of it, if it brings back any 
memories of their life together.

"Home," he murmurs, his 
voice filled with uncertainty. 
The room feels smaller, more 
cramped than she remembered, as if 
the walls are closing in on them.
"Do you like it here?" she asks, 
trying to gauge his reaction.

He looks around, his antennas 
moving slightly as he processes 
his surroundings. "Home," he says 
again, his voice a mix of 
curiosity and confusion.

The room is a jumble of 
wires, gadgets, and half-eaten 
chum sticks. Karen's 
with tears as she realizes 
how much she's taken for granted 
their life together. She had 
always loved Plankton's quirks and 
his boundless energy, but now 
his mind seemed to be stuck in a 
loop, unable to move beyond 
the basic functions of 
acknowledgment.

"Home," Plankton says again, 
his antennas drooping. "Home with 
Karen."
The repetition of the words 
stirs something within Karen. 
Echolalia, the doctor had called it, 
a common trait in those with 
autism. It was Plankton's way 
of trying to understand the 
world around him, to find 
comfort in familiar words and 
phrases.

"Yes," she whispers, her 
throat tight with emotion. "This 
is our home."

The room seems to 
shrink around them as Plankton's 
echolalic chant of "home with 
Karen" repeats in a soothing 
loop. Each time he says it, 
Karen feels a pang of hope. 
Maybe, just maybe, he was 
finding comfort in the 
simplicity of their life together.

"Home with Karen," he 
says again, his antennas 
slightly more animated. 
Karen nods, 
brimming with tears. "Yes, 
Plankton, we're home."

But she sees a flicker of 
distress in his eye. "Sponge Bob," 
he whispers, his antennas 
quivering with urgency. "Where's 
Sponge Bob?"

Karen's heart squeezes at the 
mention of him. "Sponge Bob's not 
here right now," she says, 
choosing her words carefully. 
"But he'll come to visit."

Plankton's antennas shoot up, 
his eye wide. "Sponge Bob," he 
repeats, his voice gaining 
strength. "Friend. Need Sponge Bob."
The desperation in his tone is 
heart-wrenching, and Karen knows 
she needs to act fast to soothe his 
anxiety.

"Ok, ok," she says, her voice 
calm. "Let's call Sponge Bob."

Karen picks up the phone, her 
hands shaking slightly as she 
dials the familiar number. The 
phone rings once, twice, before 
it's answered by a cheerful 
voice.

"Karen?" Sponge Bob's voice 
sounds surprised but concerned. 
"Is everything ok?"

Karen takes a deep breath, 
trying to keep her voice steady. 
"It's Plankton," she says. "He's 
asking for you to come over."
There's a pause on the 
other end of the line. "Plankton? 
But we're... I mean?" Sponge 
Bob's voice is filled with 
confusion.
Karen's with 
desperation as she watches 
Plankton rock back and forth 
on the couch, his chant 
growing louder. "Sponge Bob. Need 
Sponge Bob."

"Please, Sponge Bob," she 
pleads, her voice cracking.

Sponge Bob's voice on the 
other end of the line softens.
"Of course, Karen. I'll be right 
over."
The line goes dead, and Karen 
hangs up the phone, feeling a 
tiny spark of hope. Plankton's 
cries for Sponge Bob have become 
more insistent, his rocking more 
pronounced. She gently places 
a hand on his shoulder, trying 
to soothe him.
"Sponge Bob's coming, Plankton," 
she says, her voice steady. "He'll 
be here soon."

Plankton's rocking slows, 
his antennas drooping slightly. 
"Sponge Bob," he whispers, 
his eye searching hers. "Safe."
The word hangs in the air, and 
Karen realizes that despite his 
confusion, he feels comfort in 
Sponge Bob's presence.

A few moments later, they 
hear the telltale sound of 
bubbles popping against the 
glass, and a knock on the door. 
With a tremble, Karen 
stands and opens it to reveal 
Sponge Bob, looking slightly 
nervous but determined.

"Hi, Plankton!" he exclaims. 
Plankton's antennas shoot up at 
the sound of his name, and he 
whips his head around to face 
the door. "Sponge Bob!" he 
shouts, his eye lighting up 
with an unmistakable joy.

Sponge Bob steps into the room.

"Sponge Bob!" he exclaims, his 
voice a mix of excitement and 
relief. He lunges forward, 
wrapping his tiny arms around 
the larger sponge in an embrace.

Sponge Bob looks surprised but 
quickly returns the hug, his 
spongy form enveloping Plankton 
completely. "Plankton, what's 
going on?" he asks, his eyes 
wide with concern. He's never
seen Plankton like this.

Plankton pulls back, his 
expression a jumble of 
emotions. "Sponge Bob," he says 
again, his voice filled with 
affection. He grabs Sponge 
Bob's hand and tugs him closer.
"Home with Karen. Need you."

Sponge Bob looks to Karen, 
his eyes filled with 
uncertainty, but she nods 
encouragingly. "It's ok," she 
says. "He's just happy you're here."

The sight of Plankton's 
excited state brings a smile 
to Sponge Bob's face, despite 
his confusion. He sits down 
next to him on the couch, 
his own excitement growing.
"What do you want to do?"
Sponge Bob asks, his voice 
filled with genuine enthusiasm.

Plankton's antennas twitch 
as he thinks, his eye darting 
around the room.

"Let's play a game," he 
suddenly exclaims, his voice 
filled with a child-like 
excitement that hadn't been 
there before.

"What kind of game, Plankton?"
Karen asks, eager to encourage 
his newfound energy.

"Chess!" he exclaims, pointing 
to a dusty board in the corner 
of the room. Sponge Bob's eyes 
widen with surprise, but he 
doesn't hesitate. He leaps up 
from the couch and wipes the 
dust from the board with his 
spongy hand, setting up the 
pieces with surprising 
efficiency.

Karen watches from the 
sidelines, her heart swelling 
with love and hope as Plankton's 
enthusiasm grows. 
He moves the pieces with a 
frenetic energy, his eye
alight with a joy she hadn't 
seen since before the accident. 
Sponge Bob, ever the optimist, 
matches his excitement, even 
though he's clearly outmatched 
by Plankton's strategic mind.

"Checkmate!" Plankton cries out, 
his antennas waving with 
each word. Sponge Bob's 
expression is a mix of 
surprise and admiration. "Wow, 
Plankton, you're really good at 
this!"

The room echoes with Plankton's 
laughter, a sound that's both 
familiar and foreign to Karen's 
ears. The old Plankton would 
have gloated.

"Checkmate," he says again, 
his antennas bobbing in 
excitement. "Checkmate, 
checkmate."

Sponge Bob laughs, a 
wonderful, genuine laugh that 
fills the room. "You win, Plankton," 
he says, his hands clapping 
together.

Plankton's antennas stop 
twitching for a moment, and he 
looks at Sponge Bob, his eye 
studying the sponge's reaction. 
"Win," he repeats, a hint of 
understanding in his voice. 
"Win at chess." He claps like
SpongeBob.

Sponge Bob's eyes light up, 
seeing the connection. "Yes, 
Plankton, you won the chess 
game," he says, his voice 
soothing. "You're really good 
at it."

Plankton's antennas start to 
twitch again, his eye darting 
between the board and Sponge 
Bob. "Win," he murmurs, his 
voice filled with a newfound 
sense of pride. "Win with Sponge 
Bob."
The phrase becomes a chant, 
his brain finding solace in 
the repetition. "Win with Sponge 
Bob, win with Sponge Bob."

Sponge Bob smiles warmly, 
picking up the rhythm of 
Plankton's words. "Yes, 
Plankton," he says, his voice 
soothing. "You won the game. 
You're a great chess player."
Plankton's antennas quiver, 
his eye locking onto Sponge 
Bob's. "Great chess player," 
he echoes, his voice a mix of 
pride and amazement. 
"Win with Sponge Bob."

Karen watches from the 
sidelines with hope. 
Maybe, just maybe, this was 
the breakthrough they needed. 
Sponge Bob's presence was 
calming him, bringing out a 
side of Plankton she hadn't 
seen since the accident.

new a journey to autism plankarenbob iii

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NEUROBEHAVIORAL PLANKTON iii
(Autistic author)

"Now let's go 
to the living room 
and I'll go pick up
a smoothie for you.
Can you stay here by
yourself?"

He nodded, his 
expression slightly 
less tense.

"I'll be back 
soon," she assured him, 
squeezing his 
shoulder before 
leaving the 
Chum Bucket.

Just moments later, 
Karen's friend Hanna
came for a surprise
visit. She knew Karen
had a husband named
Plankton, but she never
met him. Plankton was 
now back on the
living room couch.

"Oh, you must be 
Plankton!" Hanna 
exclaimed.

Plankton's eye 
flitted to her, 
his expression 
unreadable.

Hanna walked 
over to the couch, 
her smile wide and 
genuine. "It's so 
nice to finally 
meet you," she said, 
embracing him in
a hug.

Plankton stiffened, 
his eye wide with 
surprise. 
His body tensed, 
his mind racing 
to process this 
new sensory input.

"You ok?" Hanna 
asked, pulling back 
slightly. She had 
noticed his reaction 
but didn't know 
the reason behind 
it.

Plankton nodded, his 
eye darting around 
the room again. 
He wasn't used to 
such spontaneous 
affection, and the 
unexpected sensation 
of Hanna's arms around 
him had thrown him 
off balance.

"Yes, I am Plankton," 
he murmured, his 
voice monotone. 
He wasn't quite 
sure how to respond.
Hanna's smile didn't 
waver, unaware of 
the turmoil within 
his mind. "How are 
you feeling today?"
Plankton's gaze 
flicked to the 
ceiling, his mind 
racing to find 
the right words.

"Today, feeling," 
he echoed, his voice 
still a whisper. 
The repetition 
was a comfort, a 
way to process the 
flood of sensory 
information that 
assaulted him 
continuously.

Hanna looked at 
him with a 
puzzled expression.

"You know, your 
wife Karen tells me 
you're an inventor,"
she said, her tone 
innocently curious.

Plankton's eye 
locked onto hers, 
his mind racing 
to understand 
the context of her 
words. "Inventor," 
he repeated, his voice 
flat. It was a word 
he knew, but it 
felt foreign 
now, as if it belonged 
to someone else.

"Yes, inventor," 
Hanna said, nodding 
enthusiastically. "I've 
heard so much 
about your gadgets 
and contraptions. 
What are you working 
on these days?"

Plankton's eye 
flitted around the 
room again, 
his mind struggling 
to grasp the 
concept of 'working'. 
"Gadgets, contraptions," 
he murmured, his voice 
a broken record.

Hanna's expression 
was one of 
confusion, her smile 
beginning to fade. 
"Well, what do you do 
all day?" she 
prodded gently, 
trying to coax him 
out of his silence.

Plankton's 
reply was 
immediate and 
robotic, "Do, all day, 
all day."

Hanna's brow 
furrowed, 
uncertain how 
to interpret 
his repetitive 
response. She had 
known Karen for 
years, but Plankton's 
behavior was unlike 
anything she had 
ever heard of her 
friend's husband.

"Do you like 
the beach?" she 
asked, hoping to 
engage him in 
conversation.

Plankton's eye 
blinked slowly, 
his mind processing 
the question. 
"Beach," he echoed, 
his voice hollow.

Hanna nodded, 
encouraged by his 
response. "Yes, the 
beach! It's such a 
beautiful place. Do 
you ever go there?"

Plankton's gaze 
shifted to the 
window, the 
memory of sand 
and surf a distant 
whisper. "Go, beach, 
beautiful place," he 
said, his words a 
stuttered echo of hers.

Hanna's smile 
dimmed slightly. 
This wasn't the 
witty banter she 
was expecting from 
Karen's husband. 
"Is there anything 
you'd like to talk 
about?" she asked, 
uncertain.

Plankton's eye 
moved to hers, 
his gaze intense. 
"Talk," he repeated, 
his voice a 
whisper.

Hanna felt a 
twinge of 
discomfort. Something 
was off about 
his responses, but 
she couldn't quite 
put her tentacle on 
what it was. 
"Well, what do you 
like to do for fun?" 
she tried again, her 
tone tentative.

Plankton's eye 
wandered back to 
his own hand, 
fidgeting with his 
fingers. "Do, fun," 
he murmured, the 
words a reflexive 
response to the 
question.

Hanna's eyes 
narrowed slightly. 
"What do you do for 
fun?" she clarified, 
wondering if he had 
simply misunderstood.

Plankton's gaze 
remained on his 
fidgeting hand, 
his mind racing 
to connect the 
concept of 'fun' with 
his new reality.
"Do, fun," he 
repeated, his voice 
devoid of the 
mirth he once 
expressed so freely.

Hanna's smile 
was now forced, her 
confusion growing 
with each 
interaction.

"Plankton, can you 
tell me what you 
enjoy doing?" she 
asked, hoping for 
a clearer response.

He looked up at 
her, his gaze 
slightly less 
focused than before. 
"Enjoy doing," he 
repeated, his voice 
a faint echo.

Hanna's 
twitched with 
concern. "You know, 
like hobbies or 
interests," she 
prompted gently, 
trying to keep her 
voice light.

Plankton's eye 
moved back to 
his fidgeting hand, 
his mind a 
whirlwind of 
thoughts and 
sensory overload. 
"Hobbies, interests," 
he murmured, his 
voice a hollow echo.

Hanna's concern 
was now clear 
on her screen.

"You know, like 
things you like 
to do in your free 
time," she tried again, 
her voice a little 
less bright.

Plankton's eye 
latched onto hers. 
"Free time," he 
repeated, his voice 
a monotone. "Like to 
do."

Hanna's eyes 
widened slightly, 
her confusion 
growing with each 
word he said. 
"Yes, exactly," she 
nodded, her voice 
a little more 
cautious now. "What 
do you like to do 
in your free time?
Well, other than 
repetition.." She 
awkwardly laughs
as she elbows him
multiple times, not 
knowing how her
touch is irritating
Plankton.

Plankton's getting
more frustrated/angry
now, as Hanna goes
to pat his shoulder.
He can't take much 
more now.

Hanna's touch 
was like a brand, 
searing his already 
overwhelmed senses. 
He flinched away, 
his body rigid with 
tension.

"Plankton, are 
you ok?" Hanna 
asked, her voice 
filled with 
concern. She noticed 
his discomfort but 
couldn't pinpoint the 
cause.

He nodded 
slightly, his 
expression unreadable. 
"Ok, ok," he 
mumbled, his voice 
still a monotone.

Hanna looked 
at him with 
concern, her 
smile slipping. 
"Karen said you 
used to be quite 
the conversationalist. 
What happened?" She
says, grabbing his
elbow; but that's the
last straw for Plankton.

Plankton's 
eye snapped up to 
hers, his voice 
sharp. "What happened?
You happened!" He 
snapped, his words 
sharp as a knife. 
The sudden aggression 
in his tone 
was like a slap in 
the face, catching 
Hanna off guard.

She took a step 
back. "I'm sorry, 
I didn't mean to..."
she began, but Plankton 
was on a roll now.

"You don't know 
what happened!" 
his voice grew 
louder, his words 
quickening with 
each syllable. "You 
don't know anything!"

Hanna's eyes went 
wide with shock. 
This was not the 
Plankton Karen had 
described. Her arms 
flailed in the air as 
she tried to placate 
his sudden anger. 
"I'm sorry, Plankton. 
I just didn't know..." 

new neurobehavioral plankton neurodivergentcore iii

JUST A TOUCH iii
(Autistic author)

 ¦ ᶠˡⁱⁿᶜʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵗ ᵗᵒᵘᶜʰ

Once home, she helped him
settle into his favorite chair,
his eye scanning the room.
Everything was in its place,
exactly as he liked it. Karen
noticed his breathing slow
as the familiarity washed over
him. She knew that routine
and order could be vital to his
comfort now to avoid
triggering his anxiety.

Then suddenly, Plankton
began to rock back and forth.

Karen recognized the motion.
It was a new behavior, one
she hadn't seen before. His
body swayed with a rhythm that
matched the ticking of the
antique clock on the wall. "It's okay,
sweetie," she said, trying to keep
her voice steady. "We're home now."

The rocking grew more intense,
his eye darting around the room,
his antennae vibrating with each
back-and-forth movement. Karen's
mind raced, trying to remember
the doctor's words. Sensory
overload. He needed calm.

Swiftly, she dimmed the lights,
the neon signs from the Krabby Patty
franchise across the street casting
soothing shadows through the windows.
The glow was just enough to
illuminate the space without
causing further distress, and
she watched as Plankton's rocking
subsided. She sat by him.

She grasped and squeezed
his shoulder. But
this time, he flinched.
"Plankton?" she asked,
concern etching her voice.
He pulled away from her,
his antennae dropping to
his side.

The doctor had
mentioned that some with
autism might have heightened
sensitivity to touch.
Karen felt a knot in her
stomach. "What if he
doesn't like me touching
him anymore?" she thought.
"What if I can't comfort
him when he's upset?"

She decided to
test the waters gently.
Reaching out, she lightly
trailed her finger over his
hand. Plankton didn't react. Encouraged,
she placed her hand on
his shoulder again,
this time more softly.
He tensed, then relaxed.
It was progress.

"Let's start with simple touch,"
she said, her voice soothing.

The doctor had mentioned that
Plankton might be hypersensitive
to certain types of touch,
and Karen was determined to
navigate this new aspect of their
relationship with care. She placed
a gentle hand on his knee, and Plankton
flinched, his antennae retreating.

"It's okay," she whispered, her voice
as soothing as a lullaby. "It's just me, Karen."
Her hand hovered over his, unsure
of the best way to provide comfort.

Karen took a deep breath,
deciding to try again. This time,
she approached with care, her touch
feather-light, gliding over his hand
like the softest of sea breezes.

Plankton's antennae twitched, and
his gaze remained on her hand,
watching the movement as if it were
the most fascinating thing he had
ever seen. Gradually, the tension in
his body eased, and his hand
lifted to meet hers. It was a tentative
touch, his fingers brushing against
hers, testing the waters.

Karen felt a rush of
relief. "See, it's okay," she murmured,
keeping her voice low and even.
Plankton's hand was cold, his grip
firm but not painful. His eye
locked onto hers, searching for
reassurance.

Slowly, she began to stroke his
hand with her thumb, applying
the slightest pressure. His breathing
evened out, his antennae rising slightly.
Encouraged, she tried a different
type of touch—a gentle squeeze.
This time, he didn't flinch. Instead,
his hand returned the gesture,
his own grip matching hers in strength.

Karen felt a flicker of hope.
"Maybe we can find a way
through this," she thought.

They sat in silence for
a few moments, their hands
entwined, as Karen tried to
think of the next step. The
doctor's words echoed in her
mind: find what works for him.

Gently, she began to rub
his hand, her thumb moving in
small, soothing circles. Plankton
seemed to find comfort in the
predictable pattern, his body
unwinding a fraction more.
Encouraged, Karen leaned in closer,
her other hand reaching out
to tap his shoulder. But as soon
as her hand made contact with
his skin, he jerked away, his
eye flashing with fear and
pain.

"I'm sorry," she said
quickly, her heart racing.
"I didn't mean to scare you."
Plankton stared at her, his
expression unreadable. "It's just,
sometimes touch feels..." His words
trailed off, and Karen felt her
own fear rising.

"Painful?" she guessed, her voice
trembling. Plankton nodded,
his antennae drooping. "Some
touches are okay, others..."
He paused, his eye darting
to his hand, which was still
wrapped around hers. "It's confusing."

Karen nodded, her heart
aching for him. She
knew she had to be more mindful
of his sensory needs. Carefully,
she pats his cheek with
the back of her hand, the lightest
of touches.

Plankton's antennae
flinched, but he didn't pull
away until she put both of
her hands on his shoulders. The
sudden pressure was too much,
like an electric shock. "Karen,"
he said, his voice tight with
discomfort, "too much."

Karen nodded, her
hands retreating to her lap.
"I'm sorry," she said, her voice
small. "I didn't mean to..."

Plankton's antennae twitched,
his eye searching hers. "It's okay,
Karen," he said, his voice measured.
"But some touches are too much."

Karen nodded, her heart
heavy. She had so much to learn
about this new Plankton, this
person she knew so well yet
barely knew at all. "I'll be
more careful," she promised,
squeezing his hand gently.

Plankton's gaze remained
steady on hers, his expression
neutral. "Thank you, Karen,"
he said, giving her a side hug.

This was a Plankton she had
never seen before, one who
spoke in a staccato rhythm,
his movements precise and
calculated. Yet, in the safety
of their home, Karen saw
glimpses of the man she knew.

Her eyes fell upon a
pamphlet the doctor had
given her, titled 'Understanding
Neurodivergence'. She picked
it up and began to read.

The first few pages were
dedicated to explaining
what it meant to be neurodivergent,
how it wasn't an illness
but a natural variation in the
brain. Plankton's new
condition, Acquired Autism, was one of
the many spectrums that
fell under this umbrella.

Karen read through
the descriptions of different
behaviors, her eyes widening
as she recognized some
of the changes in Plankton—
his need for order, his heightened
sensitivity to stimuli, and his
newfound obsessions. The
pamphlet explained that these were
common in individuals with
his condition and offered
optional suggestions for 
supporting them.

Her gaze fell upon a section titled
'Seizure Protocols'.

Karen's eyes widened as she
read about the different types
of seizures that could occur
due to neurodivergence.
Some were minor, like staring
spells, while others could be
more severe. Her heart raced
as she thought of Plankton,
his body stiffening and shaking.
The pamphlet recommended to
keep any sharp or harmful
objects away from him. It was
important not to restrain him,
but instead, to gently guide him
to the floor if necessary.

The next section discussed
how to communicate with someone
on the spectrum. It suggested
using clear, direct language,
avoiding sarcasm and idioms.
Karen realized that she would
have to learn a new way
of speaking with Plankton.

Her screen skimmed over
the pages, absorbing the
information like a sponge.
The pamphlet highlighted the
importance of individuality
and diversity, emphasizing
that Plankton's brain was not
broken, but simply wired differently.
This was a concept she had
heard of before, but it had
never hit so close to home.

The causes of neurodisability
varied widely, from genetics
to congenital to trauma.
One paragraph caught her
attention—brain injuries
could lead to conditions like
Acquired Autism. The words
swirled in her mind, a stark
reminder of the wrench that
had changed everything.

As Karen read on, she
learned about the complex
interplay of biological factors
and life experiences that can shape
a person's neurodivergence.
It was both overwhelming and
fascinating, a glimpse into a world
she had never truly understood.

new just a touch neurodivergentcore iii

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."

new autism in the plankton family plaren karen plankton iii

CHIP AND FAIL iii
(Autistic author)

"Ok Dad," he said.
"Let's go to your workshop."
Maybe there, he would
be able to come back to himself. But
Plankton's not budging, despite Chip's
efforts to get him up. "Come on,"
he said, his voice gentle, trying to
mask his own fear. "Let's go."
But he sees it's not gonna work.

He hadn't realized that his
excited touches and loud
laughter were only making
things worse. Plankton's condition
meant that even the smallest
disruption could send him spiraling,
and here Chip was, bombarding him
with sensations.

With a tremble in his voice,
Chip tried one more time to
reach his father. "Dad, can you
just come with me?" He asked,
his voice small and hopeful. "We'll
talk in the workshop." But Plankton
still didn't move, his eye
fixed on some unseen horizon.

Chip stood up, wiping the
tears from his screen, trying
to listen for his dad's breathing.

Chip doesn't like this.

Chip's face crumpled, 
realizing that his dad isn't okay.

This was chilling.

The more Chip talked, the
more he touched, the deeper
Plankton's mind spun into a vortex
of overstimulation. 

"Dad, you're not talking," Chip
whispered, his voice cracking with
concern. He had never seen his
father like this, so silent and
still. He didn't know that the
affectionate gestures and loud
stories were only adding to
Plankton's distress.

"Dad, please," Chip said, his voice
small.

This wasn't right.

This is wrong.

Something is very wrong
with his dad.

Chip's eyes
filled with tears,
his mind racing
with fear and confusion.
Something's wrong with
his dad.

"Dad, you're not okay," Chip said,
his voice filled with a new
urgency. But now, he
knew it was something more, something
he didn't know how to fix. But he
needs to try. "Can you tell me
about your week too?"

Absolutely no sign of life
from him. This is bad.
He's getting worse...

Chip didn't know that Plankton's lack of
response was due to his autism, that
his sensory system was in overdrive.
All he knew was that he needed to
help, to do something.

With a tremble in his hands, Chip
gently touched Plankton's shoulder.
"Dad, can you hear me?" He asked, his voice
soft and soothing, hoping to cut through
the storm in his father's mind. But Plankton's
expression remained unchanged, his eye
unfocused. Chip felt like he was
shouting into a void, his words
disappearing without a trace.

The room was spinning, the air
thinning with each shallow breath
Plankton took. Chip's mind raced
with scenarios, trying to piece
together what could've caused
this sudden change. "Is there
something wrong?" He asked, his voice
quavering. "Did something happen?"
But Plankton was lost, the cacophony of Chip's
excitement echoing through his
overstimulated brain like a never-
ending nightmare.

Chip's touches grew gentler, his
laughter fading into a soft
concern. "I don't get it," he said,
his voice thick with confusion. "I
just wanted to tell you about my
week." Plankton felt the pressure but
his mind was a maelstrom of sensation.

"Dad," Chip said, his voice barely
above a whisper, "I don't know what's
going on." He nudged him, and he
remained still and unblinking as the
prod toppled him onto his side, with
no reaction.

The room felt colder, the air
heavier with each passing second.
He had never seen his father so
unresponsive, so utterly lost to the
world around him. "Dad," he tried
again, his voice trembling. "You're
scaring me."

Plankton's eye remained fixed.
The gentle touches from Chip were
now a maelstrom of sensation, each
one a wave crashing against the
shore of his overwhelmed mind.

Chip's smile faded as he watched
his father. "Dad,
you're not okay," he murmured, his
voice laced with concern. He didn't
know about Plankton's condition,
how his brain processed stimuli
differently, how easily it could
be overwhelmed. All he knew was
that his dad, the man he looked
up to, was trapped in a silent
prison of his own making.

new chip and fail Chip Plankton II Sheldon J. Plankton & Chip Plankton II iii

THE LIFE OF UNITY iii
(Autistic author)

Kevin's laughter reaches a crescendo as 
he takes a step closer to Plankton. 
"What don't I know?" he asks, his voice 
sharper than ever. "That PLANKTON 
JUST. DON'T. WUV. THEM. JELLYFISH. 
YOU ARE COMPLETELY AND UTTERLY..."

But his words are cut off by the 
sight of Plankton, his antennae 
drooping, his eye brimming with 
tears. The tiny creature's body 
trembles as Kevin's to 
loud words settle upon him, and 
suddenly, all the pent-up frustration and pain 
come rushing out in a torrent as 
a single tear forms and slides down his face. 
Plankton's antennae quiver uncontrollably, and 
he squeaks out a sob, his tiny 
body convulsing with the weight of Kevin's cruel words.

SpongeBob is shocked.

Kevin's words hang in the water, his 
laughter fading into an awkward silence 
as he watches Plankton's reaction. The sea 
cucumber's eyes widen as he 
takes in the sight of Plankton's tears, his 
own expression morphing from smug 
to surprise, then to something akin to fear.

"Plankton?"

Plankton's antennae quiver as he sniffs, 
trying to compose himself, his 
monotone voice thick with emotion. "Plankton... 
brainless," he murmurs, his 
one eye filled with unshed tears. "Plankton," he 
adds, his voice cracking, 
"Plankton... not like jellyfish."

Sponge Bob's heart squeezes tight 
in his chest. "Hey, Plankton," he says 
softly, "it's ok. Kevin didn't mean it."

But Plankton's antennae quiver, his monotone 
voice echoing Kevin's hurtful 
words. "Kevin... right," he murmurs, his eye 
glistening with tears. "Plankton... 
brainless. Like jellyfish."

Kevin's expression morphs from 
smugness to shock, his eyes wide as he 
realizes the impact of his words. "It's just... 
you know, a joke."

But Plankton's antennae quiver, his 
monotone voice trembling. "Joke?" he 
murmurs. "Plankton... a joke. Plankton... 
brainless."

Kevin's grin falters, his eyes widening in 
horror as he sees the pain etched 
on Plankton's tiny face. "No," he stammers, 
his voice cracking. "It was just a... I 
didn't mean it like that."

But Plankton's antennae continue to 
quiver, his monotone voice a sad echo 
of Kevin's cruel words. "Plankton... no 
purpose in life," he murmurs, his one 
eye filled with a sadness so profound it 
seems to suck the color out of the 
surrounding waters.

Sponge Bob's eyes widen in shock. 
"Plankton," he says gently, "you 
have friends. You have a purpose."

But Plankton's antennae droop even 
lower, his monotone voice a sad 
echo of his own self-doubt. "Plankton mindless.."

Kevin's smugness evaporates, replaced 
with a flicker of concern as he 
watches the usually unflappable Plankton 
crumple under the weight of 
his words. "Look, Plankton," he says, reaching 
out to touch him.

But Plankton flinches, his antennae quivering 
with pain.

"Plankton," Kevin says, his voice a mix of 
surprise and regret, "I didn't mean 
it like that. I was just messing around."

But Plankton's antennae continue to 
quiver, his monotone voice a sad echo 
of Kevin's insults. "Mindless," he murmurs, 
his one eye fixed. "Brainless."

Sponge Bob's eyes wide with shock and 
sadness. "Plankton," he whispers, his 
voice filled with a tenderness Plankton 
rarely hears from anyone. "You're 
not brainless."

But Plankton's antennae quiver with 
doubt, his monotone voice echoing 
Kevin's words. "Plankton... mindless," 
he murmurs, his one eye unable to 
meet Sponge Bob's gaze. "Like jellyfish."

SpongeBob knew that Plankton's obsession 
with jellyfish is more than just a 
hobby; it's a deep connection, a part of 
who he is after the traumatic brain injury. 
And now, Kevin's careless words have struck 
a nerve, leaving him feeling 
exposed and vulnerable.

"Plankton," Sponge Bob says, his voice gentle, 
"you're not like that. You're 
smart. You're... you're you."

But Plankton's antennae quiver 
with insecurity, his monotone voice a sad 
echo of Kevin's words. "Mindless," he 
murmurs, his one eye still avoiding 
contact. "Plankton... like jellyfish."

SpongeBob understood 
that the brain 
trauma has 
affected him, making him 
more vulnerable to words that question 
his intelligence and identity due to his autism.

"Plankton," he says, his voice filled with 
concern, "you know that's not true. 
You're not like jellyfish in that way."

But Plankton's antennae quiver with doubt, 
his monotone voice a sad echo 
of Kevin's mockery. "Mindless," he 
murmurs. "Mindless, brainless."

Sponge Bob's heart aches for his friend, 
reaching out to offer 
comfort. "Plankton, you're not like that," 
he says, his voice gentle 
and assuring. "You're brilliant. You 
know more about jellyfish than anyone."

But Plankton's antennae quiver with 
insecurity, his monotone voice a sad 
echo of Kevin's laughter. "Mindless," 
he murmurs, eye downcast. 
"Plankton... brainless."

Sponge Bob tries to find the right words 
to say. "Plankton," he says gently, 
"you're not like that. You're so much 
more than what Kevin said."

But Plankton's antennae quiver, his 
monotone voice a sad echo of the 
cruel words. "Mindless," he murmurs, 
his one eye avoiding Sponge Bob's 
gaze. "Plankton... no purpose."

Kevin's eyes dart from Plankton to 
Sponge Bob, his grin faltering. "What's going 
on?" he asks, his voice tight with confusion. 
"You guys are acting weird."

Sponge Bob's embrace tighten around 
Plankton's tiny body, his voice firm 
but kind. "Kevin," he says, his gaze fixed 
on Plankton, "you don't know what 
happened to Plankton."

Kevin's laughter fades into a puzzled look. 
"What do you mean?" Kevin's 
smirk fades, his eyes narrowing with 
confusion. "What are you guys talking 
about?" he asks, his voice tight.

Sponge Bob hesitates, glancing at 
Plankton, who nods almost imperceptibly. 
"Kevin," he says, his voice serious, "Plankton 
had a bad accident. He hit his 
head, and now he's... different."

Kevin's tentacles freeze in mid-air, his 
smugness evaporating. "What do you 
mean, 'different'?" he asks, his voice tentative.

Sponge Bob sighs. "Plankton's had a 
brain injury," he says, his eyes never 
leaving Plankton's quivering antennae. 
"He's... autistic now."

Kevin's eyes widen, his tentacles dropping 
to his sides. "What? No way," he 
stammers, his smugness gone. "You're... 
you're joking, right?"

But Sponge Bob's expression is serious, 
gently stroking 
Plankton's antennae. "It's true, Kevin," he 
says, his voice gentle. "Plankton's 
had a tough time, and he's different now."

"Plankton, joke."

Kevin's confusion turns to shock as he 
looks from Sponge Bob to Plankton, 
his tentacles dropping to his sides. "But... 
but why didn't you say anything?" 
he asks, his voice trembling.

Sponge Bob's eyes are filled with a mix 
of sadness and determination. "We 
didn't think it was anyone's business,"
he says tightening around Plankton's 
shaking antennae. "But now you know
Kevin. And we need you to be cool 
about it."

new the life of unity bullycore iii

THE TOOTH OF A CHILD iii

He took another sip of water,
his cheeks puffing out as he
swished it around his mouth.
"Mmph, tath's betta," he said,
handing the cup back to the nurse.

Karen couldn't help but chuckle
at his antics. "Okay, let's get
you up," she said, her voice
still filled with laughter. Plankton
nodded, his antennae bobbing.

He swung his legs over the side
of the bed, his movements slow
and clumsy. Karen slipped her arm
under his and helped him stand. His
balance was wobbly, like a newborn
foal taking its first steps. She had to
stifle her giggles as he tried to
navigate the unseen world with his
numbed mouth.

"Mmph... Kahen," he began,
his voice a series of muffled sounds.
"How long wi’ this lafs?"

Karen chuckled at his question.
"It'll wear off in a few hours.
But until then, you're going to
have to be careful."

Plankton's antennae wiggled
with determination. "Mmph, I'm
a bih boy," he slurred.

Karen couldn't help but laugh
at his bravado. "Yes, you are,"
she said, her voice warm and
supportive. "Let's get you to
the car."

With Plankton leaning heavily
on her, they shuffled down the
hallway."

"Mmph... Kahen," Plankton slurred,
his words still thick with the
remnants of the anesthesia. "You know,
I've alwaths wanthed to know...
how youw wove me wath."

Karen raised an eyebrow, her
smile growing.

"What do you mean, Plankton?"
she asked, her curiosity
piqued by his sudden
sentimental turn.

"Mmph, wike, how... how youw...
feww in wove?" he managed,
his tongue thick and clumsy.

Karen's smile grew tender at
his earnest question. "Well, it's
complicated," she began, her voice
soft. "But I guess it started
when we met. Now, let's get in
the car."

Plankton nodded, his antennae
waving with understanding.
"Mmph, okay."

Karen helped him shuffle
his way out of the hospital,
his feet dragging slightly.
He was still groggy from the
anesthesia, but his curiosity
was in overdrive.

"Mmph, Kahen," Plankton
slurred, his voice barely above
a whisper. "Wha's wove wike?"
Karen glanced down at him,
his expression earnest. "It's like
when two people really, really
like each other," she replied,
her voice gentle.

"Wike... I wove youw tho 
mush." He says.

Karen couldn't help but laugh 
again. "Plankton, you're not
making any sense," she said,
her voice filled with affectionate
exasperation. His antennae
drooped slightly, his eye looking
disappointed.

"Mmph... I'm tawwy," he mumbled,
his mouth still a mess of numbness.
"It's just... I wove youw Kahen."
Karen's heart skipped a beat,
his words a sweet jumble of slurs.
"I know, Plankton," she said,
her voice thick with emotion.

They reached the car, and Karen
gently guided him into the passenger seat.

"Mmph, Kahen, wath's that?"
Plankton asked
pointing to the dashboard.

Karen chuckled. "It's the 
car's dashboard, Plankton.
You're just seeing things differently because
of the medicine." She buckled his seatbelt,
his movements exaggerated.

"Mmph, oh," he murmured, his
interest shifting to the
windshield wipers. "Mow, theath 
things, they'we like... like... arms,"
he said, his speech still a
slurry mess. Karen laughed,
shaking her head.

"They're wipers, Plankton. For
the rain," she corrected, starting
the engine.

He nodded, his antennae still
waving with fascination. "Mmph, wath's
theath wound?" he asked, pointing
at the steering wheel.

Karen couldn't help but laugh.
"That's the steering wheel,
buddy. It's what I use to drive
the car," she said, her voice
still filled with humor. Plankton
stared at it for a moment, his
expression thoughtful.

"Mmph, and theath wound?"
he asked, his finger tracing
the path of the windshield
wipers.

Karen couldn't help but
laugh. "It's to keep the
windshield clear, so we can see
while driving."

Plankton nodded, his antennae
twitching with curiosity.
"Mmph, so many tings in this
big wowld."

Karen couldn't help but laugh,
his innocent wonder bringing
a smile to her face. "Yes,
Plankton, there are so many things
to discover," she said, backing out of
the parking spot.

"Mmph, and wath's wath?"
Plankton asked, pointing out the
window at a passing scallop.
"That's a scallop, Plankton. It flies
in the sky," she explained, her voice
still filled with amusement.

He nodded, his antennae bobbing
as he took it all in. "Wow, so-o
beautiful," he slurred, his eye
gazing out the window like a child
seeing the world for the first time.

Karen couldn't help but be
captivated by his innocent
wonder. "You know, Plankton,
sometimes you say the sweetest things
without even realizing it."

His antennae perked up. "Mmph, do I?"
he asked, his speech still a
garbled mess. Karen nodded,
her smile tender. "You do."

"Mmph, gweat," he says with a
slow nod of his head.

Karen steers the car onto the
road, the sun casting a warm
glow over Plankton's sleepy face.
His antennae wilt slightly as
his eye struggles to stay open.

"Mmph, Kahen, theath sun is so
bright," he complains, his voice
still slurred from the anesthesia.
Karen chuckles, reaching over
to adjust the visor. "Better?"

He nods, his antennae drooping.
"Mmph, yeth. Thanf you." He
said, as drool began to form
again in the corner of his
mouth. Karen reached over
with a tissue, carefully
dabbing it away. Plankton
flinched slightly, his mouth
still too numb to feel the
touch.

"Mmph, I wathn't expehcting
this," he mumbles, his gaze
fixed on the passing scenery.
The world outside the car
was a blur of colors and shapes,
his mind still trying to
make sense of it all. Karen
navigated the road, her eyes
flipping between the road
and Plankton's amusing expressions.

"Mmph, Kahen, wath's thaf?"
he asks, his eye half-closed.

Karen looks over at the
traffic light, its red light a stark
contrast to the bright sun. "It's
a stoplight, Plankton. It tells
me when to stop and go."

Plankton nods, his antennae
barely moving. "Mmph, wike a
twail." His eye closes, and Karen
can feel his weight shift slightly
toward her as sleep begins
to claim him again.

"Mmph, Kahen?" Plankton's voice
interrupts the quiet hum of the
engine, his words a soft whisper.
"Ith wike I'm swimmin' in
molasses," he says, his mouth
still not cooperating.

Karen laughs, keeping one
eye on the road and the other
on his peaceful face. "You're
just tired from the surgery,"
she assures him. "You'll be
fine once you get some rest."

Plankton's antennae twitch,
his eye opening slightly. "But,
Kahen, I don't wan' to sleep,"
he slurred. "I wan' to expehrience
this wowld with you." His words
were earnest, his gaze
firm despite his grogginess.
She watched him fight
the tide of sleep, his eyelid
drooping again.

"Mmph, wath's theath wowndow?"
he asked, pointing at the car's side mirror.

Karen couldn't help but chuckle
at his confusion. "It's a mirror,
sweetheart," she said, her voice
soothing. "So we can see what's behind us."

Plankton nodded, his antennae
barely moving. "Mmph, wike a... wike
a... wookie," he mumbled, his speech
still a garbled mess. Karen laughed,
shaking her head. "It's okay, Plankton.
You're just tired."

His eyes grew heavier, his
lid drooping. "Mmph, I am,"
he admitted, his voice a faint
whisper. The car's gentle rocking
and the hum of the engine began to
lull him into a doze.

Karen watched him, his
snores growing louder as he
succumbed to sleep. His hand
still held hers, the connection
warm and comforting. She felt
his grip loosen slightly, his
body relaxing into the seat.

His breathing grew deep
and even, his antennae
quietly bobbing with each
exhalation. Karen couldn't help
but feel a swell of affection
for this vulnerable side of
Plankton she'd never seen before.

The car ride home was
quiet, punctuated only by
Plankton's gentle snores
and the rhythmic swish of the
windshield wipers. Karen
smiled to herself, her grip on
his hand never loosening.

new the tooth of a child wisdomtoothcore wisdomteethcore iii

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

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⡳⡌⢎⠰⠁⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⡿⠋⠀⠀⠌⠸⣭⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⡽⠛⠀⠀⠁⢋⡞⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⢧⡙⣌⠢⢁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡼⠋⠀⡄⠩⢌⢂⡐⠀⣈⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡼⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠘⣽⣿⣿⣿
⣇⠳⡄⢃⠄⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣎⣮⣤⡄⠠⠈⠁⠂⠢⡄⢁⠀⢨⠛⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⢠⡎⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠂⠀⠀⠀⠉⢿⣿⣿
⣎⣷⣿⡾⣆⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡰⢫⣵⣚⣿⣿⣧⣀⠄⡀⠀⠈⢂⠠⡘⡈⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠄⡄⠀⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⢏⣡⢛⣿⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡈⢰⣻⣿
⣯⠶⣏⠷⣧⢖⡩⠢⡀⠀⠀⠀⡨⠐⢋⡻⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⢀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠱⡘⢬⣿⣿⣿⣿⢒⡛⠂⠄⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡘⠁⠘⢿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⢀⠯⣿
⣯⢟⣼⣳⣽⣿⢿⣷⣿⣶⣶⠔⠠⢁⠙⠻⣾⣿⡿⣿⣏⢯⣳⣱⣌⡆⠀⠈⠳⢈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣜⠄⡀⠀⢐⣡⡣⣌⠀⠠⣄⠔⠀⠀⠸⣬⣛⣿⣿⣿⣝⢣⢀⠠⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⢹⣿
⣟⣮⣳⣽⣿⣽⢷⣳⣿⣿⢯⡘⢄⠂⠄⢀⠀⢈⠛⠒⠋⠸⠷⣹⣾⣿⣷⣦⣄⠠⢻⣻⣿⣿⣠⠃⠀⣔⡮⢳⡌⡘⣎⣾⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠋⠻⠰⠉⠏⡞⣻⢿⣷⣄⣄⠀⠂⡝
⣟⡶⣿⣿⣽⣿⣷⣿⢿⣿⡧⡜⠬⢌⢰⠎⠬⠒⠈⠡⠀⠀⢦⣹⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⡉⠱⣺⡥⢀⣪⡯⣵⡿⣐⣿⢿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡴⠈
⡿⣼⣿⣿⣿⢿⡁⠄⠹⣿⣱⣯⣗⣈⢰⣷⣷⡠⢀⠈⡀⠀⠀⠻⣯⡿⢿⣻⣷⣟⠿⢔⠀⣺⡋⣹⣟⡾⣿⡙⠋⠙⢺⡯⢀⣎⠀⠀⢰⣄⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⡷⣾⣿⢿⣭⡙⠀
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣻⡼⣅⠆⠹⡿⣿⣿⠛⢿⣿⣿⣟⣾⣆⠉⢲⠇⠀⠈⠹⠶⡂⠝⠻⠁⠀⣴⣿⣰⣿⢷⡾⡟⣡⠂⡀⠈⢳⣿⣿⡷⢶⣾⣿⣿⢢⣴⡀⠑⠀⠀⠀⠙⠲⢈⠙⠿⠓⠀
⣿⣿⣿⡿⣾⣿⡷⣜⣞⡷⢟⡀⠀⠱⡀⠻⣿⣿⣷⠉⠚⠰⢢⢐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣜⣡⢸⣿⣿⡿⠯⣰⣷⢀⡁⠤⣴⠔⠉⠐⠀⠉⢟⣻⣷⡞⠃⠔⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⣿⣿⣟⣽⣿⣿⢻⣯⢟⡔⣢⠙⣧⢄⡘⢄⠈⠻⢯⣷⣦⣸⢫⣌⠄⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣞⡼⣿⣿⣿⣿⠓⣸⣿⡿⢷⣻⠏⠁⠘⢆⡀⡀⢂⠀⠻⣿⣱⣠⡀⡖⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠌
⣿⢷⣾⣿⣿⣽⣿⠷⢿⣿⣆⠷⡘⢧⡜⢪⢗⡀⠉⢻⣿⡟⢋⡡⡌⢀⣀⣴⡾⣛⣽⣾⢻⢶⣿⡇⣱⣿⡟⣵⣿⣡⣾⣆⡀⠀⢣⡀⠀⡑⡀⠀⠙⣿⣿⡗⠐⠀⡀⠀⠀⣠⢖⢣⣝
⣯⣿⣿⣯⣿⣿⢯⣗⢦⢩⢿⣯⣙⢎⠹⡁⠎⡱⡀⣹⢡⣒⣿⣽⣿⢟⡯⣾⣵⣿⠿⣭⢯⣾⠡⣼⣿⢟⡾⣿⣃⡀⠈⠻⣷⡈⢅⡳⢆⠈⠀⠂⠀⡼⠋⢠⡴⣾⣤⠖⣯⢱⣫⣾⢫
⡷⡿⣏⣟⠾⣟⣿⣿⣎⢧⢳⡹⢗⠮⡑⡓⡎⡔⢸⣿⣿⣿⣯⣟⣮⣟⣿⢿⣛⣭⣷⣿⣿⣿⢴⣿⢋⠋⢸⡷⣿⣇⠢⠑⡙⢿⣄⠐⠒⢄⠀⠀⢲⣶⡾⣟⡽⣳⢬⣛⣴⣿⠻⣌⣷
⣿⡷⢯⣿⣫⣟⡾⠽⢻⣮⣧⣹⢦⡷⣼⣟⢽⣿⣿⣿⣯⣷⣻⢮⣷⣿⢯⣷⣿⣿⣛⠿⣩⣻⣝⠁⡲⢀⢸⠠⢽⡿⠱⣂⡄⢡⡈⢀⣴⡎⡴⣧⣾⣿⢻⡽⣛⣼⣳⢿⣙⣦⣿⠿⣟
⣿⣟⣷⣭⡟⣬⢒⣳⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢏⣵⣿⣿⣟⡷⣟⣾⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣾⣿⣿⣛⢻⣫⢘⡀⢹⠜⠀⠁⢜⣼⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⠟⣩⣾⣿⣻⣞⢯⣳⣻⡾⣏⣷⣿⡿⣏⣳⣼
⣿⣷⣾⡿⣜⣧⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣋⣼⣿⣿⣿⡿⣽⣟⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠟⠛⠈⠉⢹⣵⡎⣵⠋⠀⣠⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣟⠗⣵⣿⣿⣿⣳⢯⡼⢯⣾⢯⣿⡿⣿⣷⣿⣿⠟⠻
⣿⣯⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣽⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠛⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣷⡡⣿⣷⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣟⣯⣴⣿⣿⣿⣟⣧⣻⢮⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀
⣿⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣳⣿⣽⣿⣿⠿⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠂⡀⢸⣿⠓⣽⣿⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣽⣫⢿⣼⣿⣿⡿⠟⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⡿⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢨⣓⣷⡿⣿⣟⣿⣿⣟⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣽⣳⢯⣿⡿⠟⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⣿⣹⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠂⠀⠸⣶⡽⢷⣿⣿⡻⣿⢯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡽⣷⣻⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⣿⢿⣷⣿⣷⢾⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣿⣿⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠆⠀⠀⠀⠠⣿⢿⡻⣟⣾⣻⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠡⡈⠂⠀⠀⠀⣟⣳⢿⣹⣾⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠄⠀⠀
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢃⡀⠄⠀⠀⣿⣽⣺⢿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠡⡁⠂⢸⣷⣯⣟⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⡽⣹⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣤⡔⠢⠀⠀⠁⠈⠀⠘⠌⢰⠉⠻⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠀
⣳⢣⢯⡘⡙⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣟⣿⣦⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢘⠀⠀⠈⠙⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢈⢿⣷⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⣧⢋⢦⡙⢲⡀⠈⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠨⡕⢧⠞⠛⣾⣢⢄⡀⠀⠀⠨⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠸⣇⡻⢷⢦⢄⠀⠀
⢧⡏⡖⡌⢂⠙⢢⡄⠘⢻⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢘⢭⣚⡆⢒⠉⠙⣾⣜⢣⡀⢘⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡃⢳⠠⠤⠛⢯⣽⡂
⡳⢎⡵⣎⠰⢈⠀⠱⡄⠀⢻⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣶⡐⢶⡉⠐⡆⠉⢹⣳⣜⢪⠀⠀⢄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠄⠀⠈⢿⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠜⠩⣆⠃⢠⠀⠙⢿
⡝⣎⠲⣙⠦⡁⢂⠀⠹⣄⠂⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣥⠊⢵⣂⠀⡖⠀⠘⢮⣻⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠘⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⢯⡂⠣⣦⠈⠀⡀⠘
⡟⣬⠓⡌⢶⡁⠆⠀⠀⠘⡄⢸⣿⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠰⡭⣗⡀⢞⡡⡐⠄⠄⠈⢻⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢁⠀⢻⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣈⣽⡄⠈⠝⢌⢀⠀
⡝⣦⠛⡌⢆⡿⢠⠁⠀⠈⣧⠖⣿⣿⣥⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣞⣧⢖⠨⠔⢂⠄⠀⠺⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠘⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢜⣿⡤⡉⠜⠡⠀
⡻⣔⠫⡜⢂⡿⣀⠂⠀⠀⢱⠈⣼⣿⣿⡖⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣾⣅⡙⠀⠙⠦⣾⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⡎⠀⣿⣿⣧⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣷⣗⡀⠀⠀
⢷⣩⠓⣌⣹⡷⠄⢂⠀⠀⢸⡈⠊⣿⣿⣿⣖⡱⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠷⠦⠠⠐⢹⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⢸⣿⣿⣦⠑⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠽⣤⠀
⡧⣇⢏⠤⣻⣿⢌⠠⠀⢠⣿⣅⠀⣹⣿⣿⣿⣷⡰⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢨⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⡇⠀⠀⠀⢀⣇⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉
⣳⢭⣚⣾⣿⡿⣈⠐⠀⢺⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⡂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⣴⣿⡓⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣷⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⣳⢮⣿⣿⣿⡓⠄⡈⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣶⣶⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⠀⢀⣾⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣤⣄⣀⣠⣤⣶⣾⣿⣿⣾
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣉⢒⠎⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣠⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⢀⠀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽
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new iiii iii vii dot art text art ascii art

me📱4️⃣

new ii iii mephone4 inanimate insanity object show

TRUTH AND NAIL iii

 Karen felt his weight
shifting, his body swaying
towards sleep again.
“Stay with me, Plankton,”
she murmured, her voice
a gentle prod to keep
his consciousness afloat.

He blinked, his eye
trying to focus on her face.
“Wha...?” he mumbled,
his words trailing off
like a forgotten melody.

Karen's tightened.
“You’re okay, Plankton,”
she whispered, her voice
a gentle caress in the
stillness of the room.
“You’re just tired from
the surgery, that’s all.”

But even as she
spoke, Plankton’s head
lolled to the side,
his mouth open slightly,
drooling. Karen reached over
and wiped it away, her
fingers coming back wet.

"It's normal
for them to nod off
like this," the nurse assured
Karen with a kind smile. “Let’s 
walk to your car..”

But as they shuffled
along, Plankton’s knees
buckled, and he slumped
against Karen, his mouth
falling open in a deep snore.
Her arms tightened around
his waist, her strength
supporting his sudden
weakness.

"Wha...?" Plankton mumbled,
his eye fluttering open,
his mind trying to catch up
with his surroundings.
"You okay?" Karen asked.

His head bobbed slightly,
nodding in sleepy agreement.
But as they shuffled closer
to the exit, his knees
buckled again, and he
was out cold.

Karen's grip tightened,
keeping him from collapsing.
The nurse chuckled softly,
"It's okay, Mrs. Plankton.
This happens a lot after
the anesthesia. Wake
up, Mr. Plankton.."

But Plankton's snores
only grew louder, his head
lolling onto Karen's shoulder.
Her laugh was a gentle
sigh as she looked at
his peaceful face, marred
only by the occasional
dribble of saliva.

"Come on, love," Karen
whispered, her voice a soft
nudge. "Let's get you to the car."
With the nurse's help, they
managed to make him 
stir in his sleep.

Plankton's eye cracked
open, his gaze unfocused
and glazed. "Karen?"
he murmured, his voice a
slurred whisper.

Her eyes searched his,
the love in them a beacon
in the starkness of the
hospital corridor. "You're okay,
sweetie," she said, her voice
a gentle reminder.

But Plankton's response
was a snore, his head
lolling forward again.
Karen's grip tightened,
his weight leaning heavily
on her. "Wake up, Plankton,"
she whispered, her voice a
caress in the air.

The nurse chuckled.
"It's just the anesthesia,"
she assured Karen. "Let's
get him to the car."
Plankton's eye
snapped open, his mind
fighting to wake up.

But each step was a
battle against the fog.
Karen's arms wrapped
around him, her grip
firm and loving. His legs
threatened to give out,
his knees like jelly,
but she held him upright.

"Come on, darling,"
she cooed, her voice a
beacon through the
haze. "Almost there."

They made it to the
car, Plankton's snores
filling the quiet
of the parking lot.
The nurse opened the
back door, and Karen
managed to get him
sitting upright, his head
lolling to one side.

"Wha...?" he mumbled,
his eye opening a crack.
"We're going home," Karen
soothed, her voice a soft
song. She fastened the
seatbelt around him,
his limbs heavy and
uncooperative.

As she drove, Plankton
fought to keep his eye
open, his head drooping
forward before jerking
back up with a snort.

"You okay back there?"
Karen called over her
shoulder, her eyes on the
road.

A faint snore was
his only reply, his
head lolling against
the headrest. She chuckled,
a mix of concern and
affection, her screen
flitting to the rearview
mirror. His mouth was
still open, a string of
drool connecting his
bottom lip to his chin.

Karen reached back,
carefully wiping it away
with a tissue. Plankton's
face twitched in his
sleep, but he remained
oblivious to her touch.
The car's gentle hum
lulled him further, his
snores punctuating
the silence of the drive.

new truth and nail sleepycore iii

NEW REALITY iii
(Autistic author)

"You know, Plankton," she starts,
trying to keep the conversation
going, "you've always been so
clever with your inventions. Maybe
this is just your brain working in
overdrive, processing everything
faster than ever before."

He nods, his eyes still glued
to the fan. "Fast," he agrees,
his hand moving in the same
repetitive motion. "Like fan."

Karen tries to keep her voice
even as she sits beside him.
"You're right," she says, smiling.
"It is fast."

Plankton's hand stops moving
for a moment, then resumes the
wave-like motion. "Fast," he
agrees, his eye never leaving
the fan's rotation.

Karen watches him, her mind racing.
Could it be that he's just really
focused on the fan? Maybe his
brain is working differently now,
focusing on details that she's
always missed. She tries to find
comfort in this explanation, but
the emptiness in his gaze
unsettles her. She reaches for his
arm, hoping to ground him, to bring
his attention back to her. But
his hand jerks away, his movements
quick and erratic.

"Plankton, honey, are you okay?"
she asks, her voice tight with worry.
His eye flicks to her for a brief
moment before returning to
the fan. "Karen," he says, his tone
flat and emotionless. "Water. Thanks."

He takes another sip, his hand
shaking slightly as he sets the
glass down. Karen's heart clenches,
wishing she could take his pain away.
Maybe he's just overwhelmed, she tells
herself. Maybe all this spinning is a
way for him to calm down, to make
sense of the world again.

"Plankton," she says softly, placing
a hand on his shoulder. "Look at me."
He does, his eye meeting hers with a
flicker of something she can't quite
place. "You know, you can tell me
anything."

He nods, his gaze flicking back
to the fan. "Tell Karen," he repeats,
his voice a monotone echo.

Karen's mind is racing, but
she keeps her tone calm. "Plankton,
sweetie, what do you mean?"

He points to the fan again. "Fan.
Spin. Like." His words come out
slowly, as if he's trying to piece
together a puzzle.

Karen nods, her heart racing. "Yes,
the fan spins. It's like when you
tell me your grand plans for the
Krabby Patty formula," she says, trying
to draw him back into their shared
world. But Plankton's eye doesn't
even flicker at the mention of his
lifelong obsession.

Instead, he starts to rock slightly,
his hand moving back and forth in
the same pattern. "Spin. Fan," he
mumbles, his voice a distant echo.

Karen tries to ignore the fear
creeping into her voice. "Plankton,
what's going on? Why are you
doing this?"

Plankton's hand stops moving
for a moment, then starts again.
"Fan," he murmurs. "Spin."

Karen's mind is racing, but she tries
to stay calm. "It's okay, Plankton,"
she says soothingly, her hand still
on his shoulder. "The fan is spinning.
It's a simple machine, doing what
it's meant to do."

He nods, his gaze still locked on
the fan's blades. "Spin. Yes." His
voice is flat. Karen
swallows hard, trying to find the right
words. Maybe if she can get him to
focus on something else, he'll snap out of
this strange behavior. "LOOK AT ME!" 
She grabs his wrists..
Startled, Plankton's eye darts to hers,
his pupil wide with shock. "Karen?"
he asks, his voice tinged with anger.
"Karen scaring Plankton." He says,
his eye welling up with tears as he
starts crying.

Karen's heart shatters, she didn't mean to
scare him, she just wanted to get through to
his old self. "I'm sorry," she whispers,
pulling him into a tight hug. "It's okay."

Plankton's sobs are muffled against
her chest, his body stiff and unyielding.
Her eyes fill with tears as she tries
to soothe him, rubbing his back in
small, gentle circles. "It's okay," she repeats,
desperation lacing her words. "You're okay."

He pulls away 
slightly, looking up
at her.

"Karen, sad," he
says, his voice still
flat. "Why Karen sad?"

Karen sniffs, wiping
away her tears. "I'm just...
worried about you."

Plankton's eye widens, his
expression unchanged. "Worry?"
he questions, as if tasting
the word.

Karen nods, her heart heavy.
"Yes, worry. It's when someone
cares about you and is concerned
about your well-being."

Plankton nods, but his gaze
slides back to the fan. "Fan spin,"
he says, his voice monotonous.

Karen sighs, trying to redirect
his focus. "Plankton, let's talk about
something else. Like, what do
you want to do today?"

He blinks, his hand still
waving. "Do today?" he echoes.
"Fan spin."

Karen's stomach drops.
Maybe he's just fixated on the fan,
but something in his voice sends
a shiver down her spine. "Plankton,"
she says softly, her hand still on
his back. "I know you're not feeling
like yourself right now, but can you
try to focus on me for one minute?"
"One minute, sixty seconds,"
Plankton murmurs, his hand
continuing its rhythmic dance.

"Yes, that's right," Karen encourages,
despite the sinking feeling in her chest.
"Can you tell me what you see?"
Plankton looks at her, his expression
still eerily blank. "See Karen," he says,
his voice devoid of warmth. "See bed. See wall."

Karen's eyes widen as realization hits her.
He's not just fixated on the fan; he's taking
everything she says literally. "Plankton,
I'm not sad about the fan spinning. I'm sad
because you're not acting like you."
He looks at her, then at the fan, then back at her.
"Fan spin," he repeats, his eye searching
hers for understanding.

"No, no, Plankton," she says, her voice
gentle but firm. "I'm sad because you're
not okay." She takes a deep breath.
"You're not you."

He nods, his hand still moving.
"Plankton okay," he insists. 
"Karen sad."

Karen's heart breaks a little more.
"I know you think you're okay,"
she says, her voice trembling.
"But you're acting differently,
sweetie. You're not the same."
She decided to scan his brain.
The brain scan results come back,
and Karen stares. There it is,
stark and clear: acquired Autism
It's not something they can reverse.

new new reality Karen the Computer iii

KAREN AND THE AUTISTIC JOURNEY iii
(Autistic author)

The sound of the door opening
interrupted. Sandy
barged in. "Hey,
Karen!" she called out.
"Hi, Sandy; come in.." Karen says.

Sandy looked over at Plankton
sitting at the
kitchen table, his plate empty,
his gaze fixed on the spot where
his food had been. "Hey, Plankton!"
she exclaimed, as he got up to go
sit on the living room floor with a
science book. She followed him.

"What's up, buddy?" she asked,
her voice cheerful. But Plankton
ignored her, his focus solely on the
pages in front of him. Karen watched
their interaction with a mix of
concern and curiosity.

"Plankton, you ok?" Sandy's
voice grew softer, her eyes
narrowing as she studied her friend.
"You seem... different."

Karen tensed, waiting for his
response. Plankton didn't look
up from his book, his eye
scanning the pages.
"Plankton?" Sandy tried again, her
voice a mix of confusion and
concern.

But Plankton remained
oblivious, his new condition
rendering him unable to read social
cues. "Why?" he asked, his tone
matter-of-fact, as if inquiring
about the weather.

Sandy's smile faltered. "Well,
you're just sitting there, not
saying anything," she said, trying
to keep the frustration from her
voice.

Plankton didn't look up from his
book. "Reading," he said, his voice
devoid of any inflection.

Sandy's confusion grew into
hurt. "Is everything ok?" she
asked, her voice tentative.

Plankton, still engrossed in
his book, didn't look up. "Ok,"
he murmured.

Sandy's known
Plankton for years, but his behavior
today was unlike anything she had
ever seen.

Karen prompts him. "Plankton,
say hello to Sandy."

He glances up from his book,
his gaze passing over her without
recognition. "Say, say hi Sandy," he 
says, his voice lacking any warmth.

Sandy's smile fades, her paws
clenching slightly with irritation.

"What's gotten into you, Plankton?"
she snaps, her voice sharper than
she had intended. "You're acting
like you don't even know me!"

Karen's circuits whir with
activity. "Sandy, it's okay," she
hesitates, not quite
sure how to explain
without revealing the truth.
"I'll go pick up some soda
pop drinks." She says, leaving
them both.

Sandy watches her leave, her
expression a mix of anger and
hurt. She turns to Plankton.

"What's your deal, Plankton?"
she asks, her voice tight.
"You've been acting weird
ever since I got here."

Plankton's eye snaps to hers,
his gaze unnervingly intense.
"Weird," he repeats, as if
processing the word for the first
time. "Different."

Sandy's anger bubbles to the
surface. "Yeah, you're different.
You're ignoring me!" she exclaims,
her paws on her hips. Plankton's
expression doesn't change. "Reading,"
he says simply.

Her frustration grows. "You're
always reading, Plankton," Sandy says,
her voice rising. "But you've never
ignored me like this before!"

Plankton's eye blinks, his focus
shifting to her. "Sorry," he says,
the word a mere echo of what
he used to express. It's clear
his social awareness has shifted.
He doesn't understand the subtleties
of her emotions anymore.

Sandy's hurt turns to anger. "You
don't just say sorry and go back
to ignoring me," she snaps. "What's
going on with you?"

But Plankton seems lost in his
own world, the words on the pages
of his book more real to him than
the friend standing before him.
Sandy's patience wears thin. "Why
aren't you listening to me?" she
demands.

"Listening," Plankton murmurs, his
gaze never leaving the book.
Sandy's eyes widen, her anger
building. "I'm right here!" she
says, her voice a mix of frustration
and sadness. "What is so important
that you can't even look at me?"

But Plankton's mind is elsewhere,
his thoughts racing through the
pages of his book. The words
swim before his eye,
each line a puzzle waiting to be
solved. He's oblivious to Sandy's
hurt, his world now filtered through
a new, more intense lens.

Sandy's voice pierces through
his concentration, her tone
sharp. "I said, why aren't you
listening to me?"

Plankton looks up, his eye
dilating slightly as he takes in
Sandy's stance. He tries to
interpret her body language.
"Plankton reading," he says, his voice
still flat, his gaze drifting
back to the book.

Sandy's eyes flash with anger.
"That's not what I asked, Plankton!"
she says, her voice rising. "What's
going on with you? Why are you
ignoring me?"

Plankton's gaze flicks back to
her, his expression still vacant.
"Reading," he repeats. The
word feels like a shield, a way to
explain the inexplicable.

Sandy's eyes narrow, her paws
snatching the book from his grasp.

Plankton's eye widens in surprise
at the sudden movement. He tries to
retrieve the book, body moving in jerky
motions. "Book," he says, his voice
still monotone.

Sandy holds it out of reach. "Look at
me Plankton!" 

Plankton's arms flail, his body
straining to retrieve the book.
"Book," he says, his voice
desperate, his mind overwhelmed.

Sandy, unable to understand feels her
own anger flare up. "What's your
problem?" she snaps, holding the
book higher. "You're acting like
a little kid!"

Plankton's eye locks onto the
book. "Mine," he whispers,
voice strained.

Sandy's seen him at his worst,
but this is something she can't
comprehend.

"I'm not a toy for you to ignore!"
she shouts. She hid the book on a
high shelf. 

Plankton's body tenses.
"Mine," he repeats, his
voice rising in desperation.

Sandy's eyes fill with tears of
frustration. "Why are you acting
like this?" 

He stands up, his body
shaking. "MINE," he shouts.

"What's gotten into you? Why
are you being like this?"

Plankton's eye darts around
the room, unable to hold
Sandy's gaze.

"Plankton, you're acting like a
complete jerk," Sandy says, her voice
shaking. "No wonder Karen is
always so tired with you."
"Karen," Plankton murmurs.
"Karen ok?" he asks, his voice
filled with genuine concern.

Sandy throws her arms in the air,
exasperated. "How can you be so 
selfish? Don't you know that
Karen is sick of you?" "Sick 
of me?" he echoes. "Yes, sick of you," she 
snaps. "Why don't you try acting
normal? Perhaps then
Karen would be happier! Or
better yet, leave her!"

The words hang in the air like a
toxic cloud, their sting hitting
Plankton's core. But his new
brain can't process the depth of
her anger. "Karen happy," he
whispers, his voice a broken
echo of his former self.

Sandy's eyes flash with rage.
"You don't know anything," she
spits out, her words like acid.
"You're just a selfish, self-centered
plankton who doesn't care about
how Karen feels!"

Plankton's concepts of "selfish" and
"sick of" are foreign to his new
way of thinking. He tries to
find the patterns in her words,
the logic in her accusations, but
it's like trying to solve an
impossible equation. "No," he
whispers, his voice trembling. "Karen
not sick of me?"

"You really don't get it,
do you?" she says, her voice
filled with a mix of anger and
sadness. "You're so caught up you
can't see what's right in front of
you! Karen doesn't deserve this!"

Plankton's eye narrows slightly,
his mind struggling to piece
together the puzzle of her
emotions. "Karen happy," he
repeats, his voice strained. 

Sandy's anger turns to
despair. "You don't even know
what you're saying," she says, her
voice heavy. "You're
so wrapped up in your own little
world that you can't see how much
Karen does for you, and how
much you hurt her."

As if on cue, Karen returns 
with coffee. "I'm back," she says, her
voice a gentle hum. She notices
the tension in the room and
Plankton's distress.

"Is everything ok?" she asks,
placing the drinks on the table.
Sandy glares at Plankton.
"No," she says, her voice
shaking. "Everything is not ok.
Plankton's been acting weird
all morning and, I told him how
you're always tired of him,
and he just doesn't get it."

Karen takes in the scene. She tries to
intervene gently. "Sandy, I think
there's something you should
know," she begins, but Sandy cuts
her off, turning to Plankton.

"See? Even Karen
thinks you're a burden!"

Plankton's world
shatters. Sandy's words hit him
like a tidal wave, her accusations
sinking into his new reality.
His teary gaze locks onto Karen,
desperation in his voice. "Burden?"
he croaks.

Karen's 
circuits racing as she tries to
smooth over the situation. "No,
Sandy," she says, her voice calm
but firm. "That's not what I said."

"Don't lie to me, Karen," Sandy
snaps, her eyes never leaving
Plankton. "I can see you've had enough
and if Plankton can't see that, then
perhaps it's best if he just leaves."

Karen's circuits race with
a mix of emotions - anger at
Sandy's accusations, sadness at
Plankton's distress, and fear of
what this means for their friendship.
"That's not true," she says, yet
Plankton's searching for any hint of
deception.

Sandy's eyes are steely, her
body language confrontational.
"Why don't you just leave her alone?"
she spits out, her voice thick with
frustration.

Plankton stands up, his sobs echoed
through the corridor as he runs back 
to the bedroom, shutting the door with
a thud.

"Sandy
that was uncalled for," she says,
trying to keep her voice steady.

Sandy's anger turns to surprise.
"What are you talking about?"
she says. "I'm
just telling the truth.."

Karen's expression is a mix of
sorrow and anger, her
voice tight. "You don't know what
he's going through."

Sandy's anger fades, replaced
by confusion. "What do you mean?"
she asks, her voice softer.

Karen takes a deep breath,
steeling herself for the
conversation she had been dreading.
"Plankton had an accident, hit
his head on the vault and got
knocked out."

Sandy's in shock.
"What? Is he ok?" she asks.

Karen sighs, her shoulders
slumping. "Plankton has
autism now," she says. "He can't
help the way he's acting."

The revelation hits Sandy like a
ton of bricks. The realization of
her own harshness crashes over
her. "Oh no," she murmurs, her
eyes filling with tears. "I had no
idea."

Her gaze drifts to the
closed bedroom door.
"What have I done?"
she whispers, her 
voice cracking.

new karen and the autistic journey readingcore iii

CHIP AND THE DILEMMA iii
(Autistic author)

| ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏғ ᴛᴏxɪᴄ ғᴀᴍɪʟʏ |

Chip looks at Plankton, his
dad's face a mask of pain.
He's never seen him look so
vulnerable, and it makes
his own chest ache. "But
why can't you just be like
everyone else?" he asks, not
fully understanding.

Plankton's antennae droop
even further. "Chip, everyone
is different," he says, his voice
weak. "And that's what makes
us all..."

But Chip doesn't want his dad
to be like that..

He looks away. "Chip,"
Plankton says, his voice barely above
a whisper. "Look at me."

When Chip meets his
father's gaze, he sees the pain in
his eye, the desperation to
make his son understand.
But Chip is too caught up
in his own.

"You're not like other dads,"
Chip spits out, the words
sharp and cutting. "You're
weak." The hurt on Plankton's
face is palpable, but Chip's
mind is too clouded with fear
and confusion to care.

Plankton's antennae droop,
his shoulders slumping. "Chip,"
he starts, but his voice cracks.

Chip's eyes fill with tears,
his voice harsh. "I don't
want a dad who's unfixable!"
He says, the word sticking in
his throat like a shard of
glass.

The room goes still, the air
crackling with tension. Plankton
recoils as if struck, his antennae
flattening against his head.

"Chip," Karen says, her voice
sharp with warning. "That's not
a nice thing to say."

But Chip's anger isn't
easy to douse. "You're not
my dad," he yells, the words
echoing off the walls. "My
dad is supposed to be strong,
and normal, not... like you, who
should’ve never existed in the 
first place."

The room goes silent, the
weight of Chip's words like a
tonne of bricks on Plankton's
chest. He looks at his son,
his heart shattering into a
thousand pieces. He's never felt
so misunderstood, so...
less.

Karen's screen is a mix of
disbelief and anger. She's
always known Chip to be a
good kid, but this... this is
not her son. "Chip, that's
enough," she says, her voice
shaking.

But Chip's rage has
overtaken him. "Why did
you have to marry him?" he
snaps at her, the tears
spilling over. "Why couldn't
we just get a normal dad?"

Karen's eyes widen in
shock, her hand rising to her
mouth. "Chip," she says, her
voice trembling. "You don't
mean that."

But Chip's anger doesn't
subside. "Yes, I do!" He yells,
his fists clenched at his
sides. "Why can't you be like
other moms and marry a real
dad?"

The room feels like it's
closing in on Plankton, his
heart pounding in his chest.
He's never felt so small, so
unworthy. The air is thick
with the scent of burnt
dinner forgotten in the
kitchen, and the taste of
his own failure is bitter in
his mouth.

He opens his mouth to
speak, but the words are
stuck in his throat. All he
can manage is a weak "Chip..."
his antennae trembling.

Karen stands, her face a
mixture of shock and anger.
"Chip, that's enough," she says,
her voice firm. "You need to
apologize to your father."

Chip turns, his
screen flashing with defiance.
"Oh, sorry," he says, his tone
dripping with sarcasm. "I didn't
realize that marrying a broken
person was a good idea. I
guess I'll just have to deal
with it. I’m sorry Sheldon Plankton was
born wrong. You know, I
might just make sure not to
have any kids who isn’t right in the
head, they don’t deserve to…"

"CHIP!" Karen's voice is a
whipcrack, cutting off his
words. She's never raised
her voice to him like this before,
and the shock of it sends
his anger reeling back.
The room seems to spin around
Plankton, his vision blurring.
He can't believe what he's
hearing—his own son, the
light of his life, speaking
such cruel words. He's failed
as a father, as a husband. He's
failed them all.

Chip's eyes widen,
seeing the devastation on
his dad's face. For the first
time, he truly understands the
power of his words, the
hurt they can cause. "I-I…"

But it’s too late. Plankton
stands, his legs wobbly. "I'll
be in my room," he mumbles,
turning away.

Chip sinks as he
watches his father leave, the
weight of his words pressing
down on him. He looks at his
mother, her screen a mask of
disappointment and hurt. "Mom..."

Karen's eyes are filled
with unshed tears. "You need
to go apologize to your dad,"
she says, her voice shaking.
"What you said was..."

But they hear a
crash from the 
next room.

Karen and Chip rush to
find Plankton in a frenzy.

The sight that greets them is one of
destruction. Chip's school projects,
carefully crafted over weeks, are
scattered across the floor. Plankton,
his eye wild with a mix of anger
and despair, is in the middle of the
wreckage. He's holding one of Chip's
favorite toys in his hand, ready to smash
it against the wall, tears streaming down.

"Dad, no!" Chip yells, his
fear and regret swirling into a
single, desperate plea. But Plankton
doesn't seem to hear him. He's lost
in a world of pain and confusion,
his movements erratic as he
continues to wreak havoc.

Karen rushes to Plankton's
side, her voice firm but gentle.
"Plankton, stop," she says, placing
a hand on his shoulder. But even
her touch is too much. He flinches,
his grip on the toy tightening.

"Leave me alone!" he roars, swinging
his arm wildly. The toy narrowly
misses a picture of the two of them,
shattering the glass frame instead.

"Dad, please," Chip begs, his
voice thick with tears. But Plankton
doesn't stop, his movements growing
more frenzied with each passing
second. It's like he's lost in a
storm of his own making, unable to
see or hear the world around
him.

Karen tries again, her voice
softer now. "Plankton, it's okay.
We're here for you."

He grabs another project,
Chip's solar system model, the
one he was so excited to
help with. It feels like a
mockery now, a symbol of all
the times he's failed to be
the dad he thought Chip
deserved. With a snarl, he
throws it across the room.
The planets scatter like a
handful of dust in the wind.

"Dad, please," Chip whispers,
his screen pleading. But Plankton
can't hear him over the
roar in his own mind. His
body moves of its own
accord, driven by a rage he
can't control.

He snatches up another
project, a robot Chip had
been working on for weeks.
He slams it to the floor,
his eyes glazed over. The robot's
parts fly everywhere, the
sounds of breaking plastic
like a symphony of pain in
the quiet room.

Chip watches in horror. He can't
believe what's happening.
This isn't his dad—his hero,
his rock. This is a stranger,
someone he doesn't know.

He tries to reach for
Plankton, to stop him, but
his mother holds him back.
"Let me," she whispers, her
voice firm but gentle. "He needs
space."

But Chip can't just stand
there and watch his world
fall apart. He has to do
something. "Dad, please,"
he begs, his voice shaking.

Plankton's movements are
sporadic, his breaths coming
in ragged gasps as he
continues to destroy
everything in sight. It's
like he's to erase
his existence from their lives.

Chip's screen follows the
wreckage, each broken piece
of his heart reflected in the
shattered mess. His projects,
his dreams, his connection
to his father—all of it
crushed under the weight of
Plankton's pain.

Plankton's hand hovers over
the last item on the table, a
half-finished puzzle they'd
been working on together.
It's the one thing in the room
that's still intact, a symbol
of their shared moments,
now threatened by his
father's erratic actions.

"Dad," Chip says, his voice
shaking. "It's okay. It's just
stuff. We can fix it."
But Plankton won’t hear him,
his eye wild with a
frenzy that seems to
consume him whole.

He reaches for the puzzle,
his hand shaking. "No,"
Chip whispers,
welling up. But it's too late.
With one swift movement,
Plankton sends the pieces
flying in every direction,
scattering like the
shattered pieces of their
once-happy home.

Chip flinches at the sound,
aching as he watches
his dad's breakdown unfold.
He's never seen Plankton
like this—so out of control,
so lost. And it’s all because of
Chip...

"Dad," he says, his voice
barely audible. "Please stop."
But Plankton's rage is a
freight train, unstoppable.

Karen's screen darts around
the room, searching for a
way to diffuse the situation.
She is breaking for
both her son and her
husband. She knows the
pain Plankton is in, yet she
can't bear to see Chip hurt
like this.

"Chip, go to your
room," she says, her voice
shaking. "I need to talk to
your father."

But Chip can't move. He's
rooted to the spot, his eyes
glued to the heartbreaking
scene before him. Plankton's
breathing is ragged, his
movements jerky as he
picks up another item, a
science book they'd read
together countless times.

"Dad," Chip whispers, his
voice hoarse with fear. "It's okay.
You don't have to..." But Plankton
doesn't hear him. The book
meets the same fate as the
puzzle, pages fluttering like
leaves in a storm.

Karen's screen is wet with
tears as she watches her family
fall apart. She knows she has to
intervene, but how? She's seen
his meltdowns before, but never
like this..

"Plankton," she says firmly,
taking a step forward. "Look at
me." She holds out a hand,
offering him a lifeline in the
chaos he's created.
 

new chip and the dilemma Chip Plankton II iii

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⣿⣿⡿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠒⣾⣷⣦⡄⠴⠆⣯⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠩⣾⢿⣿⣬⡜⣿⣿⣿
⣿⠟⣁⣦⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣆⡾⣮⣿⢧⢀⠀⠀⠀⠐⡽⠻⢿⣧⠌⢹⣿⣿
⠃⠈⠰⠟⠳⠗⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣴⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠑⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⡜⠷⣾⡼⢆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠩⣱⣾⣿⣾⢇⢿⣿
⠀⠀⢀⠀⠐⢀⡊⠀⠀⠀⢉⡹⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣤⣤⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠨⣮⣷⣾⢆⠀⣄⠀⠀⠈⠊⠙⠛⣵⣾⣿⠀
⣆⠀⠐⠂⠀⠁⠈⢠⣦⣄⡐⣴⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⣦⣗⡫⣺⠀⢿⣷⠄⠀⠀⢸⣮⣔⣮⢻
⣿⣷⣄⡀⠀⠀⢠⣄⡙⠛⣼⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢴⣵⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠡⠜⡋⡅⠀⢸⡟⠀⠀⠀⣽⣽⣿⣼⡞
⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⢀⡀⠛⠛⢣⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⢴⢈⢽⡿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⠨⠀⠬⠁⠀⣸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠘⣟⣿⡍⠇
⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⡀⠙⠩⢅⣾⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠊⣯⢷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠈⠢⠻⠀⠀⣿⡇⠀⠀⠈⣵⣿⣿⠝⢸
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢠⢄⡆⠀⣸⣿⣧⠀⠀⠈⠈⠚⠻⢀⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠔⢠⣵⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⡨⠂⠁⠐⢻⣿⡿⠁⣀⢠⡀⡠⠴⣾⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠘⠛⠛⠻⠟⢛⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠠⡾⡇⣾⣛⠜⢠⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠛⡙⣣⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢺⣷⣿⣗⡕⡾⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠊⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⡀⠈⢠⢟⢈⣾⡽⣘⡆⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⢄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠀⠀⠸⠂⢸⠟⠁⡆⢱⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⣚⣬⣵⣢⠄⠀⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⢀⢀⣠⡮⠁⣿⣷⣤⣬⣥⣤⣥⣾⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⢵⡿⣿⣿⣯⠀⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⢀⣶⡟⡾⢿⣃⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⢀⡭⢯⠻⠋⢀⣿⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⡿⣿⣿⡿⠒⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⢀⡁⣀⡀⢁⣾⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⣈⣀⢁⠁⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠂⠀⠀⠀⠸⠟⠋⢱⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠁⢺⠳⠀⢺⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⡰⣶⣶⡆⡈⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⢰⣾⣿⣕⠎⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣘⣿⣿⠅⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⡻⣿⣻⣳⢶⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⢼⣿⢿⣿⡟⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⢻⣨⣿⡿⠇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⠀⠀⠈⡡⢫⣿⣅⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠘⢽⡿⣋⠉⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⣸⣿⡟⠼⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⢠⠰⡿⠆⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⣛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠨⣭⡀⠈⢻⣿⣿⣿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠈⣥⡌⠁⠙⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠛⠉⠁⠚⢁⠀⣠⠔⠁⠀⠀⠻⠛⠀⠀⣿⣿⢃⠁⠀⠖⠀⠀⠈⠆⠀⢀⡑⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠁⠐⠇⠀⠀⢀⡶⠿⡆⠀⠀⠘⠁⠀⠐⠂⠀⠀⠀⣸⣶⠀⠘⠙⠎⢊⠹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢅⡃⠀⠀⠨⢵⠧⠆⢤⡴⠀⠀⠠⣕⡄⠀⠀⠀⣽⣘⠂⠀⠘⣾⣿⠠⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣶⣿⣶⣶⣤⣬⣭⣭⣥⣾⣷⣤⣄⣘⣛⣤⣤⣀⣐⣀⣓⣡⣤⣄⣒⣢⣬⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿

new 3 iii common year starting on monday dot art text art ascii art

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣶⣿⠿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠛⢦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣄⠠⢄⣳⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⠀⠀⠀⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣄⠀⠸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⠀⡶⢆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢿⣿⡀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢺⣿⠀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⡄⢀⣶⣶⣶⣾⣿⠁⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⡏⠰⢿⣿⣿⣯⣿⣿⠃⢸⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⡀⢸⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣿⡇⠀⠀⠉⠙⠉⣿⠇⠀⠸⣿⠛⠛⠿⢿⠇⢸⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⡇⠀⠄⠀⠀⢾⣥⣤⣀⣰⣻⡇⠀⠀⣾⠀⣾⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢻⡼⡿⣥⣄⣠⠿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠠⣴⣿⢠⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⣿⡿⡿⣿⠷⠟⠓⠶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣷⡘⢿⣝⠻⠷⣤⣶⣾⣿⣿⢿⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⡿⣿⣦⣿⣤⣀⠘⡉⢉⣽⣏⣠⣾⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡞⣿⠁⣻⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠉⣿⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⡾⣿⡇⢹⡄⠀⠀⢢⡛⠁⠀⠀⢹⡿⠀⣼⡏⢸⣧⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⣴⡾⣿⣏⣿⣿⡇⠀⠹⣦⡀⠘⣧⠀⠀⢠⠼⠁⣴⡟⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣶⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣴⢾⣿⣿⣿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠙⣿⠲⢦⣄⣈⢈⣠⣾⠟⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣤⡶⠛⠋⢠⡏⣻⡞⣧⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⡀⠈⢿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⣀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡲⢦⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣽⡇⠀⠀⣤⣤⣴⣿⣧⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠻⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⣤⣮⣿⣷⠀⠀
⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣤⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⠀
⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇
⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿

new me you iii dot art text art ascii art

THE LIFE OF UNITY i        (A LIFE OF DIVERSITY → THE LIFE OF UNITY)
(Autistic author; make sure to read A LIFE OF DIVERSITY i - x first!)

Sheldon Plankton wasn't born with autism
but acquired neurodisability after a theft
gone wrong. Despite interacting differently
he's still an intellectual scientist inventor.
             (A LIFE OF DIVERSITY → THE LIFE OF UNITY)
It's perfect day for jellyfishing. 
SpongeBob, ever eager to help 
a friend, had been up early 
preparing the jellyfish nets. 
When he arrived at the Chum 
Bucket, he found Plankton 
reading about jellyfish, his 
antennae quivering.

"Plankton, are you ready to go jellyfishing?" 
Sponge Bob's voice filled with excitement.

Plankton looked up from his book. "Jellyfish 
fields?" he murmured, his one eye lighting up.

"Yeah, jellyfish fields," Sponge Bob said 
with a grin. "It's going to be amazing. 
We're going to see jellyfish like never before!"

Plankton carefully put his book away.

"Let's go," he murmured, his monotone voice 
filled with an unusual sense of anticipation.

As they arrived, the water grew clearer, revealing 
a breathtaking sight: a vast meadow of jellyfish, 
their gelatinous bodies pulsing gently in the 
current, their tentacles trailing like a ballet. 
Plankton took in the mesmerizing display.

But, Sponge Bob's eyes widened in recognition. 
"Kevin!" he exclaimed. Kevin the sea cucumber, 
Sponge Bob's long-time rival, surfaced with a smirk. 
"What's going on here?" he sneered, eyes flicking 
between them "You guys playing jellyfish keep-away?"

Plankton's antennae twitched, monotonous voice tight. 
"No," he murmured. "Plankton... jellyfish expert."

Kevin's smirk grew wider. "Expert, huh?" he sneered. "I bet 
I know more about jellyfish than you ever will."

Sponge Bob's eyes narrow. "Why don't we have a little trivia 
showdown?" He suggested. "Just a friendly competition to 
see who knows more."

Kevin's smirk grew into a full-blown grin. "You're on," he says
cracking his knuckles. "But if I win, you leave the 
jellyfish fields and don't come back."

Plankton's antennae quivered slightly, but his eye remained 
focused on the sea cucumber. "If wins," he murmured steady, 
"Kevin leaves. And brings jellyfish back to Chum Bucket."

Kevin's grin faltered, but he quickly regained his composure. 
"Fine," he said, his voice dripping with confidence. "But if I win
you both leave and never come back to these fields."

The stakes were set. 

"Alright, let's get started," Kevin said, his smugness palpable. 
"First question: What is the scientific name for the jellyfish 
you're so fond of, Plankton?"

Plankton's antennae twitched as he thought for a moment. 
"Medusozoa," he murmured with certainty.

Kevin's smirk faltered, his confidence visibly shaking. 
"What? How do you even know that?"

Plankton's antennae quivered slightly as he 
replied, "Jellyfish," his monotone voice calm. 
"Plankton studied."

Kevin scoffed. "Fine, then what's the most 
venomous jellyfish in the sea?"

Without missing a beat, Plankton 
murmured, "Chironex fleckeri."

Kevin laughs. "Wrong; it's a Box Jelly!"

But Plankton's antennae don't waver. 
"Chironex fleckeri," he repeats, his 
monotone voice unshaken. "Box jellyfish, 
Kevin. Chironex fleckeri."

Kevin's eyes widen in surprise, his 
smugness dissipating. "Alright, show
off," he stammers, visibly thrown off 
his game. "But you don't know this 
one: What's jellyfish can grow up 
to 16 inches in diameter?"

Plankton's antennae wiggle slightly 
as he considers the question. 
"Moon jellyfish," he murmurs unshaken. 
"Aurelia aurita."

Kevin's eyebrows shoot up in surprise, his 
grin faltering. "What? That's... that's right," he 
admits, his voice trailing off.

"Good job, Plankton," SpongeBob cheers.

Kevin's smirk turns into a grimace as he tries 
to regain his footing. "Alright, fine," he says 
through gritted teeth. "But I've got one more 
question that'll stump you for sure."

Plankton's antennae wiggle slightly, his one eye 
focused intently on the sea cucumber. "Go on," he 
murmurs, his monotone voice filled with quiet confidence.

Kevin's eyes narrow, his mind racing for the ultimate 
question to outsmart Plankton. "Ok then," he says, 
his voice dripping with challenge. "What's the most 
rare jellyfish species known to Bikini Bottom?"

Plankton's antennae twitch as he thinks, his monotone 
voice measured. "The Bikini Bottom Glowing Jellyfish," 
he murmurs. "It's not rare everywhere, but here, yes."

Kevin's grin fades into a scowl.

"Fine," he says, his voice tight. "What's the average lifespan 
of a jellyfish?"

Plankton's antennae quiver as he considers the question. 
"Depends on species," he murmurs, his monotone voice 
unwavering. "Some live weeks, others years."

Kevin's smugness returns, his grin stretching wide. "Ah, but 
I'm not talking about any jellyfish," he says, eyes gleaming. 
"I'm talking about the Jellyfish of Legend, the one that even 
SpongeBob can't catch. What's the average lifespan of that one?"

Plankton's antennae quiver slightly, eye narrowing 
in thought. "Rare. Long lifespan."

Kevin's smug expression wavers as he realizes Plankton 
might actually know the answer. "You're bluffing," he accuses, his 
voice rising. "There's no way you know that!"

But Plankton's antennae continue to quiver as he murmurs, 
"The average lifespan of a type jellyfish known as Turritopsis dohrnii
is... indefinite."

Kevin's eyes widen in shock, smugness evaporating. "What? 
That's impossible!"

But Plankton's antennae keep quivering with confidence. 
"Immortal jellyfish," he murmurs. "Turritopsis dohrnii."

Kevin's smugness turns to astonishment. "But that's not 
possible!" he stammers, his bravado slipping away. "No jellyfish 
can live forever!"

Plankton's antennae wiggle slightly as he calmly explains, 
"Turritopsis dohrnii," his monotone voice unshaken. "It's 
unique. Can revert to polyp stage, start life cycle again."

Kevin stammers, his usual bravado gone. "But... but?"

"Plankton studied," Plankton murmurs, his antennae 
waving slightly. "Jellyfish... interesting."

SpongeBob steps forward, eyes glinting with excitement. 
"I've got one," he says, turning to Kevin. "What's the main 
diet of jellyfish?" Kevin snorts. "Phytoplankton," Kevin says 
with glee. "And zooplankton, like your little friend here. Some
times other jellyfish."

But Plankton's antennae quiver with excitement. "Kevin 
wrong," he murmurs. "Jellyfish eat... everything."

Kevin's smirk falters. "What do you mean?" he asks, his voice wary.

Plankton's antennae wave slightly as he elaborates. "Jellyfish 
diet... diverse," he murmurs. "Phytoplankton, zooplankton, even 
small fish and shrimp. Some, yes, eat other jellyfish. But not all."

Kevin's grin turns into a scowl. "That's what I just said!"

"But you didn't say everything," Plankton murmurs, his monotone 
voice filled with a hint of satisfaction. "Jellyfish... adaptable."

Kevin's confidence is visibly shaken, his smugness gone. "Fine," he 
grumbles. "But I bet you don't know their natural predators."

Plankton's antennae wiggle slightly. "Natural predators," he murmurs. 
"Turtles, some fish, sea anemones."

Kevin's scoff turns into a growl. "Turtles, sure," he says, his voice 
mocking. "But what about the big bad..."

"Leatherback sea turtles," Plankton murmurs, his antennae quivering 
slightly. "They love jellyfish."

Kevin's smirk fades, his bravado slipping away like sea foam 
on the shore. "Fine," he says, his voice tight. "What's the most... I don't know, 
the most useless jellyfish fact you know?"

Plankton's antennae quiver slightly as he murmurs, "Usefulness... subjective."
His monotone voice is calm, unruffled by the challenge.

Kevin's scowl deepens. "Alright, then," he says, his voice tight 
with frustration. "But surely you don't know this one: What's the 
jellyfish that's immune to its own venom?"

Plankton's antennae twitch, his monotone voice unfazed. "Turritopsis nutricula," 
he murmurs. "Immune to own sting."

Kevin's eyes narrow. "Alright, then," he says, his voice tight with frustration. 
"What's the most bizarre jellyfish fact you can think of?"

Plankton's antennae quiver slightly, his monotone voice contemplative. 
"Bizarre," he murmurs. "Some jellyfish have bioluminescent glow."

Kevin's eyes light up with a spark of hope. "That's it," he says, voice smug. 
"Everyone knows that. I've got a better one: jellyfish don't have brains, just 
nerve nets. So, what's the point of all this studying?"

Plankton's antennae quiver as he considers the question, his monotone voice 
calm. "Jellyfish," he murmurs, "have complex behaviors. Complex. Have nerve 
nets. Plankton studied. Brain not necessary for intelligence."

new the life of unity a life of diversity plankton i

A LIFE OF DIVERSITY i
(Autistic author)

"You know, Shel, just put yourself out 
there. You think to much! Just steal 
a patty from the krusty krab, and 
bring it back. No inventions, just 
believe. I'll wait out front." Karen says.

Sheldon Plankton, whose ambition 
often outstripped his grasp, took a 
deep breath and nodded. It was a simple 
enough plan, he thought, and maybe, just 
maybe, it would be enough. For years he'd 
been trying to outsmart Mr. Krabs, crafting 
ingenious contraptions and elaborate 
schemes to swipe the Krabby Patty secret 
formula. Yet here he was, standing in the 
shadow of the gleaming neon sign of the 
Chum Bucket, his own restaurant, contemplating 
the unthinkable: a straight-up heist. He tiptoed to 
the Krabby Krab, eye darting back and forth 
for any signs of movement.

Karen, ever the impatient one, was pacing back 
and forth outside the Chum Bucket. She had 
been waiting for what felt like an eternity. "What's 
taking him so long?" she murmured to herself, her 
frustration building.

Meanwhile, Plankton took a final 
shaky breath and slid open the 
kitchen window, his heart racing. 
The scent of greasy fryers and salty 
ocean air filled his nostrils. He reached 
out, his tiny hand trembling, and 
snatched the Krabby Patty that lay 
unguarded on the counter.

With the stolen patty in hand, Plankton's 
confidence grew. He had done it; the 
secret was within his grasp! He turned 
to leave, but his elation was cut short 
when a shadow fell over him. He looked 
up to find Mr. Krabs standing there, his eyes 
narrowed and his claw raised. "Plankton, I 
knew it was you!" he bellowed. Plankton froze.

Mr. Krabs lunged at him, but Plankton was 
quick. He dashed under the cash register, 
the Krabby Patty clutched to his chest like 
a football player crossing the finish line. 
"You'll never get me!" he yelled, his voice 
echoing in the quiet restaurant. But Krabs 
was persistent, his claws snapping shut 
just millimeters from Plankton's antennae.

With a cunning smile, Mr. Krabs stepped back 
eyeing the cash register. "Maybe not," he said 
reaching over the counter and hoisting the heavy 
metal contraption off its stand.

Plankton's eye went wide with horror as he 
realized what Krabs intended to do. He tried 
to dodge, but the space was too cramped, and 
the cash register came down on him like a 
guillotine blade. The sound of metal on metal 
reverberated through the kitchen, and the 
Krabby Patty went flying out of his grasp.

Mr. Krabs' victory roar filled the room as 
Plankton crumpled to the floor, stars 
dancing in his vision. The impact had been 
tremendous, and for a moment, he lay 
dazed and defeated. The cash register's 
heavy weight had not only knocked him 
out cold but also left a sizable dent in 
the floorboards.

Outside, Karen's pacing grew more erratic.
as "What's keeping him?" she groused. Just 
as she was about to storm inside, she hears 
the cash register, which hit Plankton's head.

Peering in she saw Plankton 
lying on the floor. "Plankton?" she 
shrieked, her voice cracking with 
panic.

Karen opens the door and goes 
to him.

"Plankton! Oh no!" she screamed, 
voice shaking the very foundation 
of the Krabby Krab. She rushed over 
to him, shaking with fear. Plankton's 
eye closed, and his body was 
completely still. The Patty lay forgotten.

Panic set in, and she began to pat his face.

"Plankton, wake up!!" she yelled, echoing 
through the deserted kitchen. She knew 
that Plankton could be dramatic, but this 
was unlike him. He'd always bounced back 
from Mr. Krabs' traps before, albeit with a 
bruised ego.

There was a pulse, faint but steady. "Thank 
Neptune," she whispered, her relief palpable. 

"Plankton, please," Karen begged, a mix of 
desperation and fear. She knew she had to 
do something, and fast. But what? Her 
medical expertise was limited to patching 
up her husband's bruises from past failed 
schemes, not dealing with a concussion 
from a cash register to the head.

She then managed to scoop up her 
unconscious husband and sprinted
to the Bikini Bottom Hospital.

Once inside the hospital, she explained 
what happened with the cash register. 
"We'll do a brain scan." They said.

Karen laid Plankton on the hospital bed.

Finally a doctor approached 
with a solemn expression. 
"The brain scan results are in."
Karen nodded for him to go on.

"It seems your husband has suffered 
significant brain damage from impact," 
the doctor continued, fidgeting with a 
clipboard. "The good news is that he 
will wake up, but... your husband has 
experienced severe brain trauma. While 
he will regain consciousness, it appears 
that he may have developed permanent 
autism."

"What does that mean?" she 
managed to whisper. The doctor 
explained that while Plankton 
would still be able to talk and/or 
communicate, his interactions 
and reactions to sensory would 
be significantly affected.

"But he'll still be the same Plankton?" 

The doctor nods. "In many ways, yes. 
His personality, his memories, they 
should all be intact. But his ability to 
process, to understand 
and respond appropriately... those 
might be altered. It's a complex 
condition, Mrs. Plankton. He can go 
home whence he wakes up."

Karen nodded numbly, mind racing 
with the implications.

As she sat by Plankton's bedside 
the hospital lights flickered, and 
the constant beeping of the heart 
monitor was the only company she 
had. The quiet was broken her 
husband's eye fluttering open. 
"Karen?" he croaked, his voice 
hoarse from the trauma.

Her heart leaped at the sound, and 
she took his hand, squeezing it 
tightly. "I'm here," she said, her 
voice cracking. "How do you feel?"

Plankton's gaze darted around the room. 
"Where am I?" he asked, his voice a mix 
of confusion and fear.

"You're at the hospital, sweetie," 
Karen replied, voice gentle and 
soothing. "You had hit your head 
on the cash register at the Krabby Krab." 
Karen said, her voice shaking 
slightly. "Mr. Krabs hit you."

Plankton blinked rapidly, trying to process 
her words. "Cash... register?" he murmured, 
voice sounding distant and confused. Karen 
nodded, her eyes never leaving his. The room 
was a cacophony of sounds: the beep of the 
monitor, the rustle of nurses' shoes, and the 
distant wail of a siren. Plankton's senses 
seemed to amplify, each noise stabbing at 
his brain like a thousand tiny needles.

"What happened to me?" he asked, voice 
small and scared. Karen took a deep breath 
preparing herself to explain the gravity of 
the situation. "You hit your head," she began, "and 
now, the doctor says you have... acquired a 
neurodisability."

Plankton stared at her, his eyes unfocused. "Neuro... 
what?" he repeated.

Karen took a deep breath, her heart heavy. "It's 
like your brain is wired differently now. You 
might see things, hear things, feel things more 
intensely. And sometimes, you might not understand 
people, or process differently."

"Does it... does it mean I'm broken?" he asked, voice 
barely a whisper.

"No, Plankton," she said firmly, "You're not 
broken. You're just... different. And we'll 
figure this out together."

new a life of diversity AI Story Generator neurodivergentcore karen plankton plaren plabsen braincore headcore i

A LIFE OF DIVERSITY ii
(Autistic author)

The drive back 
to the Chum 
Bucket was quiet, 
the only sound the 
hum of the car engine 
and the occasional 
splash of a jellyfish 
passing by. Karen 
gripped the steering 
wheel tightly, her 
knuckles white with 
tension. She glanced 
over at Plankton in the 
passenger seat, his eye 
glazed over and staring 
out the window.

"You ok?" she asked 
tentatively.

Plankton nodded, his gaze 
still fixed outside the car window.

"Everything looks the same, but 
feeling... different."

"You're going to be ok," she said. 
"We'll get through this."

By the time Karen pulls up in the 
driveway, Plankton had fallen asleep, his 
head lolling against the car window. 
She gently lifts him out of the car and 
carries him into their bedroom, laying 
him down with care. As she watches 
him sleep, she whispers, "We'll get through 
this."

The next day dawns with the promise of a 
new challenge. Karen wakes up to the 
sight of Plankton, obsessing with the pattern 
of the floor tiles.

"You ok?" Karen asked, voice soft.

Plankton looked up, his 
gaze slightly unfocused. 
"The floor," he said, his 
voice still quiet.

"What, the floor?" Karen asked.

"The floor," Plankton repeated.

"What about it?" Karen asked.

Plankton's gaze remained fixed 
on the tiles. "Plankton not same, 
Plankton different," he murmured.

Karen sat down beside him. "How 
are you feeling?" 

"Plankton feel... weird," he said, antennae 
drooping slightly. "Things to loud. Things 
to bright." He paused, looking at her with 
a flicker of his old mischief. "But Plankton 
still love Krabby Patty."

Karen couldn't help but chuckle through tears. 
"I know you do, sweetie," she said, her voice 
warm with love. "But maybe it's time we focus 
on something else for a while."

Plankton nodded slowly, gaze still on the floor. 
"Plankton... try," he murmured, fidgeting nervously.

"Do you want for breakfast, Plankton?"

Plankton's eye didn't leave the floor.

Karen tries asking again. "Does Plankton wanna eat?"

Plankton nods, his gaze finally shifting from the floor 
to meet hers. "Hungry," he said, his voice monotone 
and detached.

Karen sighs and heads to the kitchen. She could 
feel the weight of the new reality settling on her 
shoulders, but she was determined to make things 
work.

As she flipped through the recipe book, Plankton's 
voice, distant yet clear, floated through the air. 
"Plankton... Plankton different," he said to himself, 
gaze still locked onto the floor. Karen knew he was 
trying to process his new sense of self.

"Plankton still smart," he murmured, as if reassuring 
himself. "But Plankton... not same." He paused, tiny body 
trembling slightly. "Plankton think to loud. Plankton hear 
to much." The world had become a symphony of 
overwhelming stimuli, each sound and light a crescendo 
that pounded against his newfound sensitivity.

Karen looked up from her cooking with empathy. "It's ok 
Plankton," she said gently. "We'll learn to adapt. Maybe 
we can make some changes around here to help you 
feel more comfortable."

Plankton nodded, but doubt remained. "Plankton... 
not know," he said, his voice filled with uncertainty. 
"What if Plankton mess up?"

Karen set the frying pan aside and knelt down 
beside him, taking his hands in hers. "You won't," 
she said firmly. "We'll face this together. I'll always 
be here to help you, no matter what."

Plankton nodded, his gaze finally shifting from the 
floor to meet hers. "Thank Karen," he said, voice 
a little clearer.

"The chumbalaya is ready." She says, serving him 
his favorite chum dish.

Plankton looks up from the floor, his gaze lingering 
on the plate before him. "Plankton eat now?" he asks, 
his voice still distant.

"Yes, sweetie," Karen says with a smile, pushing the 
plate closer to him. "Eat your breakfast."

"Eat breakfast," Plankton parrots back, his tone flat. 
He picks up a spoon and stares at it, his hand 
shaking slightly. The simple task of bringing it to 
his mouth seems daunting under the weight of his 
new reality.

Karen's smile falters a little 
but she keeps the conversation 
going. "It's a beautiful day out
side, Plankton. Would 
you like to go for a walk?"

"Walk outside," Plankton repeats
echoing the monotone rhythm 
of hers. He stands up, his 
movements stiff and deliberate 
as if he's not quite sure of his 
body's new limitations.

"Oh I meant after finishing breakfast," 
Karen says.

"Walk after breakfast," Plankton echoes.

Karen nods encouragingly. "Yes, after 
you eat." She watches as he carefully 
brings the spoon to his mouth, his 
movements tentative and slow. Each 
bite is a victory, a declaration of normalcy 
in a world that had suddenly become any
thing but.

"Good boy," she says, voice filled with pride. 
Plankton looks up, his eye searching hers. 
"Good boy," he repeats, his voice a mirror of 
hers, but the words don't quite fit. Karen 
noticed how he just repeated the phrase she's 
said. It's called echolalia, a trait often seen in 
those with autism, and it's something they're 
going to have to navigate together. She 
decides to keep her words positive and 
encouraging, hoping it'll help him feel more 
at ease. "Yes, let's go for a walk," she confirms.

They step outside into the vibrant world of Bikini 
Bottom, and they start their slow stroll down the 
boardwalk.

The sun was shining, casting a warm glow over the 
coral reefs and the colorful fish swimming by. The 
smell of the ocean was a soothing balm to Karen's 
frayed nerves, and she hoped it would have the same 
effect on Plankton. He walked beside her, his steps 
halting and unsure, his antennae twitching at every 
new sound.

As they approached the boardwalk, they saw a familiar 
figure in the distance. "Look, Plankton," Karen said, her 
voice a mix of excitement and trepidation, "it's SpongeBob."

Plankton's antennae shot up, and his eye widened. "Sponge... 
Bob," he murmured, recognizing him.

Karen took a deep breath and tightened her grip 
on Plankton's hand. She knew SpongeBob had 
a heart of gold, but she also knew he could be 
potentially overwhelming.

As they approached, Sponge Bob spotted them 
and waved enthusiastically. "Hi, Karen! Hi, Plankton!" 
His voice was a welcome sound in the quiet morning 
and Karen braced herself for whatever would come next.

"Hi, Sponge Bob," she says.

Sponge Bob's face lit up. "Oh boy, Plankton! What's shakin'?"

Plankton stiffened, antennae quivering as he tried to process 
the sudden influx of sensory input. "Sponge Bob," he said 
slowly, his voice measured and careful. "Plankton... walk."

Sponge Bob looked from Karen to Plankton, his expression 
growing concerned. "Is everything ok, Plankton?" he asked, 
eyes full of genuine care. "You seem a bit... off your game to
day."

Plankton stared at him, composing response.

"Walk," Plankton repeated. "Plankton walk."

Sponge Bob looked confused but nodded, his eyes filled with 
concern. "Ok Plankton," he said gently. "Would you like to walk 
with me?"

Plankton's antennae twitched 
and he nodded. "Walk with Sponge 
Bob," he agreed, his 
voice still monotone.

Sponge Bob took Plankton's 
other hand, and together, the 
three of them began their 
leisurely stroll 
along the boardwalk. 

new POV Karen a life of diversity plankarenbob ii

THE LIFE OF UNITY ii
(Autistic author; make sure to read A LIFE OF DIVERSITY i - x first!)

Kevin scoffs. "Yeah, right," he says, voice 
dripping with disdain. Kevin 
snorts. "So jellyfish are smarter 
than you? You're saying you're like a jelly
fish; Brainless and just floating around?"

Plankton's antennae stiffen, taking on edge. 
"Kevin," he murmurs, "Jellyfish have nerve nets. 
Complex behaviors. 
Brainless? Not brainless. Different."

Kevin's eyes narrow, his grin fading into a sneer. 
"So, what you're saying is 
that you're like a jellyfish?" he taunts. 
"Just with no real purpose?"

The silence that follows is thick with tension. 
Plankton's antennae quiver. "Jellyfish," he murmurs, 
eye flashing, "have purpose. Plankton has purpose."

Kevin snickers, unaware of 
the impact of his words. 
"Sure, Plankton," he says, his 
voice dripping with sarcasm. 
"Your purpose is to annoy me
I guess."

Plankton's antennae stiffen. "Purpose," 
he murmurs, his one eye narrowing. 
"Annoying Kevin... not Plankton's purpose
you don't understand."

Kevin's sneer turns into a full-blown laugh. 
"Understand what?" he asks, his 
voice dripping with disbelief. "That you 
think jellyfish are your friends? That 
you're obsessed with them because 
you're just like them?"

Plankton's antennae quiver 
with a mix of anger 
and sadness, his monotone 
voice tight. "Jellyfish. Different."

Kevin's laughter echoes through the 
jellyfish fields, his ignorance fueling 
the flames of Plankton's anger. "Oh
come on," he says. "You're just mad 
because you can't outsmart a jellyfish."

Plankton's antennae quiver violently, his 
monotone voice filled with a 
rare emotion: insecurity. "Kevin," he 
murmurs, "you don't know what 
you're saying."

But Kevin's laughter doesn't cease, eyes 
sparkling with mischief. 
"What, are you going to get all sensitive 
on me now?" he asks, his voice 
filled with mock concern. "Is Plankton thinking 
with his 'jellyfish brain'?"

Plankton's antennae droop, the barb of Kevin's 
words hitting too close to home. 
"It's not funny," Plankton murmurs, 
antennae drooping.

SpongeBob steps 
forward, fists 
clenched. "Kevin, that's 
not cool," he says 
firmly. "You don't know 
what you're talking about."

Kevin's laughter falters, his smirk fading. 
"What do you mean?" he asks, his 
voice defensive. "It's just a joke."

"No," Plankton murmurs, his antennae drooping 
further. "Not funny."

Kevin's sneer fades, his expression shifting 
to confusion. "What's your 
problem, Plankton?" he asks, his 
voice tinged with annoyance.

"Kevin," Sponge Bob says, his voice a mix 
of concern and reprimand. "That's 
not nice. Plankton's interest in jellyfish 
is special to him."

But Kevin's sneer only deepens. "Oh, I 
get it," he says, his voice dripping 
with condescension. "You're all playing 
along with his little game. Well, I'm 
not. Jellyfish are just mindless blobs. 
And if you're so obsessed with them
Plankton, maybe that's all you are, too."

Plankton's antennae quiver, his eye blinking rapidly. 

But Kevin, fueled by his own ignorance, continues 
to laugh, his words 
cutting deeper. "What's the 
matter, Plankton?" he sneers. 
"Can't take a 
little ribbing?"

Plankton's antennae quiver with each insult, his
monotone voice strained. 
"Kevin," he murmurs, his one eye wide with hurt. 
"Not a game."

Kevin's laughter echoes 
through the jellyfish fields, 
his eyes gleaming 
with cruel amusement. "Oh, I see," he 
says, his voice dripping with 
sarcasm. "You're just to sensitive 
for a little teasing."

But Plankton's antennae quiver with a 
mix of anger and sadness, his 
monotone voice tight. "Jellyfish... complex," 
he murmurs, his eye flashing 
with determination. "Not brainless. Not like 
your jokes."

"What's the matter?" Kevin asks, his smirk 
growing. "Can't handle the truth?"

"Truth?" Plankton's antennae quiver with emotion. 
"Jellyfish," he murmurs, his 
monotone voice filled with a rare passion. 
"Jellyfish... beautiful. Complex."

Kevin's eyes narrow, his laughter fading. "Beautiful?" 
he scoffs. "They're 
just jellyfish, Plankton. They don't have feelings. 
They don't have brains. 
Just like you."

Plankton's antennae quiver.

But Kevin's smirk only widens, his 
laughter bouncing 
off the surrounding 
coral, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. "You
can't talk without 
getting all worked up. What kind of brainless 
blob are you?"

Plankton's antennae quiver, his monotone 
voice strained. "Kevin," he 
murmurs, "you don't understand."

"Understand what?" Kevin sneers, eyes gleaming with malicious 
amusement. "That jellyfish are just mindless blobs of jelly? That you're 
just like them?"

Plankton's antennae droop. "Kevin," he 
murmurs, "you don't know."

"Know what?" Kevin's laughter is cruel, his 
eyes sparkling with mischief. 
"That jellyfish are just mindless animals 
and you're obsessed with them 
because you're just a brainless creature 
who can't get a life?"

Plankton's antennae droop even further, his 
one eye blinking 
rapidly. "Not mindless."

Kevin's laughter turns into a cackle. "Oh, so you 
think you're better than 
jellyfish now?" he asks, his voice dripping 
with sarcasm. "Maybe if you 
had a brain, you could actually catch one of those 
Krabby Patties you're 
always after! Maybe if you had a brain, you'd realize THAT 
YOU'LL NEVER 
BE MORE THAN A TINY, BRAINLESS BOTTOM FEEDER!"

The words hit Plankton like a tidal wave, antennae drooping 
even further.

"Kevin," Plankton murmurs, his monotone voice thick 
with emotion, "you don't know."

new the life of unity jellyfishcore ii

r/shortscarystories
5 days ago
DottedWriter

My Former Highschool Bully Apologized To Me Today

I stared at her as she sobbed on her knees

"Alice, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry for everything! I'm sorry for every horrible thing I've done to you!" Sophia said as she wept in front of me.

I just stared at her as she continued to sob over all of the things she had done to me.

She would directly insult or make demeaning JOKeS about me, spread n͟asty rumours about me, manipulate my friends against me, şteal a guy I had a crush on, make horrible posts about me on social media, and even manipulate some guys into doing things like jum͜ping̨ me.

She did everything if it meant I suffered in the end.

I tried to tell my teachers about this, but they just turned a deaf ear, and I didn’t even bother talking to my parents about it, they were more focussed on their jobs than me. And even then, if Sophia found out I snitched, that would result in an extra beating from her and her cronies.

She was behind all of my sufferıng, enjoyed the despair on my face, she enjoyed how much ab*se she inflected on me.

So you could only imagine my surprise when she approached me one day and started to apologise tearfully to me

As she continued to cry, my eyes started to spark with anger, anger that I had suppressed inside me for the past 5 years after highschool .

I had no one to turn to for support, absolutely no one. And she dared to spew her little crocodile tears right in front of me.

I had enough of it.

I floated around my grave until I was behind her, I stared at her for a long minute, before I plunged my hand into her chest. She tensed up, and some of her bľood splattered onto my grave. I dug through her organs before I found what I was looking for. Her heart.

It was still beating as she collapsed to the ground, her hands clutching at the wound at a desperate attempt to cover the bleeding. She coughed out błoođ, and wheezed as she continue to bleed out.

I stared at how pathetic and pitiful she looked now. I stared at her as a twisted, evil, and satisfied grin crept onto my face .

new bullycore twistedcore manipulationcore patheticcore revengecore sophiacore alicecore my former highschool bully apologized to me today

– ̗̀ 𝓗𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔰 𝔤𝔬𝔫𝔫𝔞 𝔥𝔞𝔱𝔢 ̖́- ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ✧

new peoplecore hatecore bullycore friendcore livecore religiouscore queercore taylorswiftcore 1989

A LIFE OF DIVERSITY v
(Autistic author)

The door to the Chum Bucket creaked 
open, and Patrick Star 
waddled in, a quizzical expression 
on his face as he took in 
the scene before him. "What's with 
the library vibe?" he asked
looking from the book-laden table to 
Plankton's intense gaze.

Plankton looked up from the book, antennae stilling 
for a brief moment before he resumed his recitation 
of pi. "Pi, 3.14159265358979323846..."

Patrick's eyes grew wide as he took in Plankton's intense 
focus and the unwavering rhythm of his voice. "Plankton, 
buddy, what's got you in such a tizzy?" he asked, his usual 
lazy drawl replaced with curiosity.

Plankton's antennae twitched as he broke from recitation.

Patrick looked at Plankton with genuine curiosity.

"Patrick," Plankton said, his voice flat but his antennae 
twitching slightly. "Jellyfish club."

Patrick blinked, his star-shaped pupils dilating in surprise. 
"Jellyfish club?" he echoed, his voice rising an octave.

Karen nodded. "Yes, we were just talking about starting a 
jellyfish club," she explained, gesturing to the book. "Since 
Plankton's really interested in them now."

Patrick looked from Karen to Plankton, then back again. 
"But Plankton, jellyfish sting," he said, his brow 
furrowed in confusion.

"Jellyfish sting," Plankton agreed, his voice still monotone. "But 
Plankton have plan. Jellyfish in jar."

Patrick's eyebrows shot up. "Jellyfish in a jar? What's the point 
of that, buddy?"

"Safe jellyfish," he murmured, his voice tight.

"What's that supposed to mean, Plankton?" Patrick asked.

"Mean jellyfish safe," he said, his voice a little less monotone. 
"In jar."

Patrick chuckled, mistaking Plankton's seriousness for a joke. 
"Yeah, right, Plankton. You're not seriously gonna start a jellyfish 
club, are you?"

The room's atmosphere shifted, and Plankton's antennae 
drooped slightly. "Why not?" he asked, his voice 
devoid of its earlier excitement.

Patrick's chuckles died in his throat as he realized Plankton wasn't 
joking. "Well, I didn't mean to laugh," he said, his voice tinged with
awkwardness. "It's just, jellyfish are kind of... boring, don't you think?"

Plankton's antennae stiffened, and he closed the book with a thud. 
"Boring?" he echoed, his voice devoid of its previous enthusiasm.

"It's just... jellyfish aren't exactly the most exciting creatures," Patrick 
said, trying to recover from his faux pas. 
"They just float around, right?"

The room went quiet as Plankton's antennae drooped further, and 
he stared at Patrick, his eye unblinking. "Boring," he murmured, his 
voice a mix of hurt and disappointment.

Patrick, not realizing the depth of Plankton's newfound interest
continued, "I mean, come on, Plankton. 
There's more to life than jellyfish."

Plankton's antennae stiffened, and he looked at Patrick with 
a mix of confusion and hurt. "Boring?" he echoed, his voice 
monotone yet filled with a hint of challenge.

"Well, yeah," Patrick said, shrugging his shoulders. "I mean
jellyfish are for tourists and little kids, right?"

The words hung in the air like a thick fog, and the room grew 
tense as Plankton's antennae quivered with a mix of anger 
and hurt.

"Patrick, maybe that wasn't the best thing to say," Karen said, 
her voice a gentle warning.

But Patrick, oblivious to the tension building in the room, shrugged 
again. "I'm just saying, jellyfish aren't exactly the coolest things in 
the ocean, Plankton," he said, his voice still filled with cheerfulness. 
"Why don't you jus-"

Plankton's antennae shot up, cutting him off mid-sentence. "Jellyfish 
cool," he said, his voice a monotone, but with a hint of steel.

"Oh, come on, Plankton," Patrick said, waving a dismissive hand. 
"You're smarter than this. Why waste your time with jellyfish?"

"Jellyfish interesting. Plankton like jellyfish."

Karen stepped in, trying to smooth things over. "Patrick, Plankton's 
just found something that he really enjoys," she said. "We should 
support him in his new interest."

But Patrick, still not grasping the gravity of the situation, chuckled.

"Oh, Plankton, always so dramatic. It's just a phase. And you can't 
talk like that forever, right?" He then mimicked Plankton's flat tone 
saying, "Plankton wike jellyfish," which sent him into a fit of giggles.

The room grew quiet as Plankton's antennae drooped, and a single 
tear formed at the corner of his eye, sliding down his face.

"B-but, Plankton thought..." Plankton's voice broke as Patrick 
interrupts him again mimicking him.

"B-but, Plankton thought," Patrick said, his voice a high-pitched 
parody of Plankton's monotone. "Jellyfish cool," he continued, his 
giggles echoing in the room.

Plankton's antennae shot up. "Jellyfish cool," he repeated, his 
voice firm and unwavering.

Patrick's giggles didn't stop, and he leaned closer 
to Sponge Bob, whispering, "Is he for real?"

But Plankton's tears didn't fall in vain. The moment his sobs 
filled the room, the atmosphere shifted. Karen's with horror 
at the sight of her husband's pain, and she rushed over to 
him, wrapping around his tiny frame. "Plankton, no," she 
whispered, her voice filled with a motherly concern that was 
more powerful than any Krabby Patty recipe.

Sponge Bob's expression grew solemn as he watched the scene 
unfold. He had never seen Plankton so vulnerable, so raw. The 
villain he knew was now a creature in pain, and his heart swelled 
with emotion.

"Patrick, that's enough," she said, his voice firm.

But the damage was done. Plankton's sobs grew 
louder, and he buried his face in Karen, his body 
trembling with the weight of his emotions. Karen 
glared at Patrick, her screen flashing with a fiery 
protectiveness that was uncharacteristic of her 
usual calm demeanor.

"Patrick, you need to leave," she said, her voice a 
low hiss. "Now."

Patrick, taken aback by the sudden shift in mood, backpedaled 
awkwardly. "But, I didn't mean to-"

"Just go," Karen interrupted, her voice firm. "Outside. I'll talk 
to you in a moment."

Patrick, still chuckling nervously, shuffled to the door. "But, I 
didn't mean to make him-"

"Out!" Karen's voice was sharp, cutting 
through the air like a knife. 
The urgency in her tone was clear, leaving 
no room for argument.

Patrick, still looking confused, shrugged and waited outside. 

new a life of diversity jellyfishcore v

A LIFE OF DIVERSITY iv
(Autistic author)

Without missing a beat, Plankton starts 
rattling off a stream of facts. "Jellyfish are 
invertebrates," he says, his voice gaining 
speed and confidence. "They have no bones, 
no brains, but they have stinging cells 
called nematocysts."

"Wow, Plankton, that's amazing," Sponge 
Bob says, eyes wide with wonder. "I didn't 
know that!"

"Neither did I," Karen admits, a small 
smile playing. "You've always had a knack 
for science, but this is something else."

Plankton nods, his excitement palpable. 
"Jellyfish have life cycle," he continues, 
his voice taking on the rhythm of a lecturer. 
"Start as polyps, then grow into medusae."

Plankton's antennae twitch as he 
recites facts rapidly.

"Jellyfish can have hundreds of stinging 
tentacles," he says, his voice gaining 
momentum. "And some species can even 
clone themselves. It's called strobilation!" he 
says, his eye glued to the book. His voice is 
monotone, but the enthusiasm is clear as he 
shares his newfound knowledge.

"That's so cool, Plankton!" Sponge Bob exclaims. 
"I had no idea!"

Plankton nods. "Jellyfish book," he says 
again, his voice still a monotone, but his 
tone is less flat.

Karen and Sponge Bob share a hopeful look. 
Plankton's intense focus on jellyfish seems 
to be providing a small sense of comfort 
amidst the chaos of his new reality.

"I think Plankton might just become the smartest 
jellyfish expert in Bikini Bottom," Karen says 
trying to lighten the mood.

"Maybe one day we can go jellyfishing together," Sponge 
Bob says, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

Plankton's antennae quiver, and he nods, his gaze flicking 
to Sponge Bob before returning to the book. 
"Jellyfishing," he repeats.

"But Plankton, remember jellyfishing can be dangerous
if they sting" Karen says gently with concern.

Plankton's antennae twitch. "Dangerous," he repeats, his 
eye still on the book. "Jellyfish sting, but Plankton have 
plan." He flips through the pages, stopping at an image 
of a jellyfish in a jar. "Jellyfish in jar," he says, 
tapping the picture. "Safe jellyfish."

Karen and Sponge Bob exchange a look. "You wanna keep 
jellyfish in a jar, Plankton?" Sponge Bob asks, voice tentative.

Plankton nods vigorously. "Jellyfish in jar, safe jellyfish," he 
says, his excitement palpable.

Sponge Bob leans closer to the book, his curiosity piqued. 
"What else does the book say, Plankton?"

Plankton starts reading off the index and page numbers, his 
voice a monotone yet steady stream of information. "Jellyfish 
page 12. Nematocysts, page 34. Jellyfish reproduction, page 67," 
he recites, his antennae twitching with each number.

Sponge Bob leans in closer, fascinated by Plankton's sudden 
wealth of knowledge. "How do you remember all of that?"

Plankton's antennae twitch slightly.
"Good memory," he says, his 
voice still flat but with a hint of pride. 
"Plankton read book."

Karen nods, her gaze soft. "Yes, you read the book," she says, her 
voice a gentle reminder. "You've learned so much about jellyfish."

Plankton's antennae quiver with excitement as he flips through 
the pages. "Jellyfish book," he murmurs, his gaze alight with a 
passion that Karen hadn't seen in him since before the accident.

"You know, Plankton," Sponge Bob says, leaning closer to the book. 
"Maybe we could start a jellyfish club. Just you, me, and Karen. We 
could learn all about them together."

Plankton's antennae stand at attention at the idea. "Jellyfish club," 
he repeats, his voice a mix of excitement and skepticism. "With 
Karen and Sponge Bob?"

"Yes," Karen says with a smile, her voice filled with hope.

Plankton nods, his antennae moving with the rhythm of his thoughts. 
"Jellyfish club," he murmurs, the words rolling around in his head like 
a treasure found at the bottom of the sea.

"Yea Plankton who knew, easy as pie!"

"Pie?" he repeated, the word echoing in the room. 
"Pi, 3.14159265358979323846..." His voice grew in confidence 
as he recited the digits, his eye glazing over as he fell into a 
rhythm that seemed almost meditative. Karen and Sponge Bob 
stared at him in amazement as he rattled off the numbers, his 
monotone delivery a stark contrast to the awe in their expressions.

"Plankton, that's incredible!" Karen exclaimed with astonishment.

"Pi, yes," Plankton said unwavering. "Circle's ratio."

Sponge Bob's eyes went wide. "How?"

"Pi," Plankton began, his antennae quivering slightly as he found 
his rhythm. "The ratio of a circle's circumference to its diameter. 
3.14159265358979323846..." He recited the digits as if they were 
the most natural thing in the world, his voice steady and unwavering. 
Karen and Sponge Bob watched in amazement as Plankton's eye took 
on a faraway look, his focus solely on the mathematical constant that 
held the secrets of 
the universe's geometry.

Karen couldn't help but smile at the sight of Plankton's newfound 
passion. "It's incredible how you can remember all of that," she said, 
her voice filled with wonder.

"Remember pi," Plankton said, his antennae still quivering 
with excitement. "Easy for Plankton."

"Wow, Plankton," Sponge Bob said, his eyes sparkling with 
amazement. "You're a math genius!"

Plankton's antennae twitched slightly at the compliment.

new a life of diversity jellyfishcore iv

ᶠʳᵃᵗᵉʳⁿⁱᶻᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ
⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾
ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ’ˢ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗᵒʷⁿ ʷʰᵉⁿ ⁱᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ‧ 
ᴴᵉ ʷᵃˢ ᵗᵒ ᵃⁿᵃˡʸᶻᵉ ᵃ ᵏʳᵃᵇᵇʸ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ
ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵗʳᵒⁿᵍᵉˢᵗ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ
ʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᶜʳᵒʷ ᵇᵃʳ‧ 
ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵘˢᵉᵈ ᵃˡˡ ʰⁱˢ
ˢᵗʳᵉⁿᵍᵗʰ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇⁱᵍᵍᵉˢᵗ ˢʷⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ
ᶜᵒⁿᵗʳᵃᵖᵗⁱᵒⁿ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᵗʰᵉ ˢʷⁱⁿᵍ‧
ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵃⁱᵐᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵖᵖᵃʳᵃᵗᵘˢ
ᵇᵘᵗ ᵍᵒᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰⁱᵗ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ʰᵃʳᵈ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʳᵒʷ ᵇᵃʳ
ⁱⁿ ᵇᵉᵗʷᵉᵉⁿ‧ ᵀʰᵉⁿ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ’ˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ʰⁱᵗ
 ᵐᵃᶜʰⁱⁿᵉ‧ ᴴᵉ ˡᶤᵐᵖˡʸ ᵈᶤᵈᶰᵗ ᵐᵒᵛᵉˑ
ᴺᵒᵇᵒᵈʸ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵃʸ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ⸴ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ‧ ᵀᵉᵃʳʸ ᵉʸᵉᵈ
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ˢᵃⁱᵈ “ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏ…” ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ
ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵃᶜʰⁱⁿᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵈⁱˢᵖᵒˢᵉ ᵒᶠ ⁱᵗ‧ "ᴾˡᵉᵃˢᵉ
ᵗᵃˡᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉˑ ˢᵃʸ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰᶤᶰᵍˑ
ᴬᶰʸᵗʰᶤᶰᵍˀ"
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ʷᵃˢ ˢᶜᵃʳᵉᵈ 
ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ʷⁱˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵗᵗˡᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃⁿ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ
ʳᵉˢᵖᵒⁿˢᵉ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ “ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ
ʰᵉᵃʳ ᵐᵉ…” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵒᵇˢ‧ 
“ᵂᵉˡˡ⸴ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ’ᵗ 
ᵃᶜᶜᵉˢˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ⸴ ˢᵒ
ᴵ ᵍᵘᵉˢˢ ᵐʸ ʰᵒᵘˢᵉ ⁱᵗ ⁱˢᵎ”
“ᴬʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵘʳᵉˀ” ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ‧ 
“ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ’ᵗ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ˒ ᵃᶰᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰˢ ᵇᵘˢʸᵎ”
ᴾᶤᶜᵏᶤᶰᵍ ʰᶤᵐ ᵘᵖ ᶜᵃʳᵉᶠᵘˡˡʸ 
ᵗᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ
ʰⁱˢ ʰᵒᵐᵉ˒ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ 
ˢᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵈᵒʷⁿ‧ "ᴵ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵇᵉ
ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᶰᵉ ʷʰᵒ'ˢ ˡᶤᶠᵉˡᵉˢˢˡʸ
ᶠᵃᶤᶰᵗˑˑˑ"
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵇᵉ ᵍˡᵃᵈ 
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵐᵃᵈ ᵃᵗ ʰⁱᵐ⸴ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ 
ᵏᶰᵉʷ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵃ ʰᵃᶰᵈ ˢʷᵃᵗᵗᵉᵈ
ᵃʷᵃʸ‧ ᔆᵒ ʰᵉ ᵏᵉᵖᵗ ʰᶤˢ ᵉʸᵉˢ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰⁱˢ 
ᵒʷⁿ ᶜʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ʷᵃʳʳᵃⁿᵗ ᵃ ˢⁿᵃᵖᵖʸ 
ʳᵉᵐᵃʳᵏ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ʷᵃˢ ʰᵘᵐᵐᶤᶰᵍ ᵃ ᵗᵘᶰᵉ‧
ᵂʰᵉⁿ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵍᵃᶤᶰ ᶜᵒᶰˢᶜᶤᵒᵘˢᶰᵉˢˢ⸴ 
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᶤʳˢᵗ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᶜᵒᶰᶠᵘˢᵉᵈ ᵈⁱᶻᶻⁱⁿᵉˢˢ‧ 
“ᵂʰ…” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ 
ʷᵃᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ʷᵃᵏᵉⁿ ᵃᶰᵈ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ 
ʰᵘᵐᵐᶤᶰᵍˑ “ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ…”  ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ
ᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃ ˡᶤᵗᵗˡᵉ ˢᵖᵃᶜᵉ ᵇᵘᵗ
ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ʳᶤᵍʰᵗ ᵇʸ ʰᶤᵐ‧ “ᵂʰᵃ…”
“ᴼʰ…” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢⁱᵍʰᵉᵈ‧  “ᴵ ʷᵃˢ ˢᵒ ʷᵒʳʳⁱᵉᵈᵎ
ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵇᵉ ʳᶤᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ˒ ᵃˢ ᴵ
ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ᵃ ᶜᵃˡˡˑˑˑ” 
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ˒ ᶜᵒᶰˢᶜᶤᵒᵘˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ᶰᵒᵗ ᵏᶰᵒʷᶤᶰᵍ
ᵉˣᵃᶜᵗˡʸ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ ᵃᶰᵈ
ᶠᵉᵉˡᶤᶰᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉᶠᶠᵉᶜᵗˢ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᶤᵗ˒
ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᵈⁱᵃˡ
ᵗᵉˡᵉᵖʰᵒⁿᵉ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ‧ “ᴶᵘˢᵗ ˡᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ 
ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᶠᶤᶰᵃˡˡʸ ʷᵃᵏᶤᶰᵍᵎ” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ
ʰᵃⁿᵍˢ ᵘᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʰᵒⁿᵉ‧ “ᴵ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ
ˢᵒᵐᵉ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵃᵎ ᵂᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵇˡᵃⁿᵏᵉᵗ
ᵒʳ ⁱᶜᵉ…”  “ᴵ ʷᵃᶰᶰᵃ ᵏᶰᵒʷ ʰᵒʷ ᴵ'ᵐ˒ ʷᵉˡˡ˒
ʷʰᵃᵗ…” “ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ 
ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵉˢᵗʳᵒʸ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵈᵉᵛⁱᶜᵉ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁱⁿˢᵗᵉᵃᵈ 
ʰᵘʳᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ᵃⁿʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵈᵒ…” 
“ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵃˡˡ⸴ ˢᵗᵒᵖ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʳʸⁱⁿᵍ‧ 
ᴬˡˢᵒ ᵈᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ᵖᵃᵗʳᵒⁿⁱᶻⁱⁿᵍ ᵐᵉ‧”
ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ᶤᵗ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ʰᶤᵐ
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ˢᵃᵈ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉ ʷʰᵉⁿ
ᵃ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵏⁿᵒᶜᵏ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ‧
“ᴵ’ˡˡ ᵍᵉᵗ ⁱᵗ; ˢᵗᵃʸᵎ” ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ
ʷᵃˢᶰ'ᵗ ᶤᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ
ᵐᵒᵇᶤˡᵉ ᶤᶠ ʰᵉ ʷᵃᶰᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ… ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵒᵖᵉⁿˢ
ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ ᵗᵒ ˡᵉᵗ ⁱⁿ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ⁱⁿˢⁱᵈᵉ‧
“ᴬʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷˀ” 
ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ʰᵃᵈ ᑫᵘᵉˢᵗⁱᵒⁿᵉᵈ‧ “ᴵ  ʷᵃⁿᵗ 
ᵗᵒ ᵖˡᵃʸ ⁱᵗ ˢᵃᶠᵉ…” “ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᴵ
ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʰᵒʷ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵈᵉᵃˡ
ᵃˢ ᴵ ʰᵃᵛᵉⁿ’ᵗ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʰⁱᵐ ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉ…” 
“ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ⸴ ᴵ’ᵈ ᵗᵉⁿᵈ ʷᵒʳᵏ ⁱᶠ ᴵ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ 
ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ʷᵒⁿ’ᵗ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵘⁿᵃᵗᵗᵉⁿᵈᵉᵈ‧”
“ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵉᵃˡ ʷⁱᵗʰ
ᵒᵘʳ ᵇᵒˢˢ ᵖᵉˢᵗᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵐᵉᵎ” “ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ˒
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿˢ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵛᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ; ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ᵗᵉˡˡ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʰᵉ’ˢ 
ʳᵉᶜᵘᵖᵉʳᵃᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵗ ᵐʸ ʰᵒᵘˢᵉ…” ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ
ᵇᵒᵇ ᵉˣᵖˡᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ‧ ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ˢᵠᵘᶤᵈʷᵃʳᵈ
ˡᵉᶠᵗ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ “ᶠᵉᵉˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿʸ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳˀ”
“ᴵ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵃᵐ ᶰᵒᵗ ᶠᵉᵉˡᶤᶰᵍ ᶜˡᵉᵃʳ
ᵐᶤᶰᵈᵉᵈ…” “ˢᵒʳʳʸ…” “ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ
ᵗʰᵉ ᵒⁿᵉ ʷʰᵒ ᵈⁱᵈ ⁱᵗ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘᵎ ᵂᵃⁱᵗ⸴ ᵈᵒᵉˢ
ᵃⁿʸ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ ᵏⁿᵒʷ…” “ᴺᵒ…” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ
ᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃⁱᵈˑ
“ᴵ’ᵈ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ
ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ’ᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ⁱⁿ ˢᵒ
ᴵ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵉʳᵉ‧ ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃᶰ
ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳˢᵉˡᶠ ᵃᵗ ʰᵒᵐᵉᵎ ᵂᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵈᵒ
ᵍᵃᵐᵉˢ ᵒʳ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰ ᶠᶤˡᵐˢ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ʷᵉ ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ⁱᶠ
ʸᵒᵘ ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗ‧ ᵂʰᵃᵗ ᵈᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵉᵉˡ
ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒˀ” “ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ˢᵗᵒᵖ ʳᵃᵐᵇˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵏⁱᵈ…”
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵐᵒʳᵉ 
ᵏⁿᵒᶜᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ 
ᵒᵖᵉⁿˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ ᵗᵒ  
ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ‧ “ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᵃᵗ ᵐʸ ⁿᵉʷ 
ᵃᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᶠⁱᵍᵘʳᵉ ᴵ ᵍᵒᵗ
ʸᵒᵘ ᵃ ᶠⁱᵍᵘʳⁱⁿᵉᵎ” ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ᵉˣᶜˡᵃⁱᵐᵉᵈ 
ᶜˡᵒˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ ᵇᵉʰⁱⁿᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧ “ᵀʰᵃⁿᵏˢ 
ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ’ᵛᵉ ᵃ ˢⁱᵗᵘᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵘᵖ‧ ʸᵒᵘ 
ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᵐᵉᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗˀ” “ᴼʰ
ᴵ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ’ᵗ…” “ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ᵗᵉˡˡ
ᴾⁱⁿᵏʸ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ…” “ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ
ⁱˢ ᵐʸ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵈᵒ
ʷʰᵃᵗ ʰᵉ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉˢᵎ ᔆᵒ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ 
ᵃˡᵒⁿᵉᵎ” “ᴱⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ⸴ ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏᵎ ᴵ ᵃᵐ
ᶜᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ 
ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ ᵉᵃʳˡⁱᵉʳ⸴ ʰᵉ’ˢ ʰᵘʳᵗ…” “ᴵ
ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ʷᵉ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵖˡᵃʸ…” “ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ 
ᵃˢᵏ ᴾˡᵃⁿ…” “ᵂʰʸˀ ᴴᵉ’ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ
ᵍᵒ…” “ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ʰᵉ ⁱˢ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ
ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᶠʳᵒᵐ…” “ᵠᵘᶤᵉᵗᵎ”
ᴮᵒᵗʰ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵃᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ 
ᵃᶜᵗᶤᶰᵍ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ˡᶤᵏᵉ ʰᶤᵐˢᵉˡᶠ‧ 
“ᵂᵉ’ˡˡ ˢᵉᵉ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ‧” 
“ᔆᵒʳʳʸ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇᵎ ᔆᵉᵉ
ʸᵃ‧” ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ˡᵉᶠᵗ‧ “ᴴᵘⁿᵍʳʸˀ” 
“ᴳᵘᵉˢˢ ᴵ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵈⁱⁿⁿᵉʳ…” ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ
ᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵒᵒᵈ‧ “ᵂʰᵉⁿ 
ᵈⁱᵈ ʸᵒᵘ…” “ᴵ ᵖʳᵉᵖᵃʳᵉᵈ ⁱᵗ ʷʰᵉᶰ ʸᵒᵘ 
ʷᵉʳᵉ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ…” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ’ᵗ 
ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃʸ ᵗᵒ ˢᵃʸ‧ “ᴼᵘᵗˀ” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ
ᵃⁿˣⁱᵒᵘˢˡʸ ᵃʷᵃⁱᵗᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ʳᵉˢᵖᵒⁿˢᵉ‧ “ᴬʰ⸴ ʷᵉˡˡ
ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏˢˀ” ᴴᵉ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ˢᵒᵐᵉʷʰᵃᵗ ᵇᵃˢʰᶠᵘˡ‧
ᔆᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿˡʸ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʰᵒⁿᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ʳⁱⁿᵍⁱⁿᵍ‧ 
“ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵏᵉᵉᵖ ᵉᵃᵗⁱⁿᵍ; ᴵ’ˡˡ ᵍᵉᵗ ⁱᵗᵎ”
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᵍᵉⁿᵗˡʸ ᵖᵃᵗᵗᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ
ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵖⁱᶜᵏ ᵘᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʰᵒⁿᵉ‧ “ᴱʰ
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ⸴ ʸᵒ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵃᵗᵗᵉⁿᵈ ʷᵒʳᵏ
ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷˀ ᴵ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵐᵉ ᶠʳʸᶜᵒᵒᵏ…”
ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ‧ “ᵂᵉˡˡ ᴹʳ‧ 
ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ…” “ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ᴷʳᵘˢᵗʸ
ᴷʳᵃᵇ ⁿᵉᵉᵈˢ ʸᵉᵎ” ᔆᵒ ᵈⁱᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧
“ᴵ’ᵐ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵃ ᵇⁱᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢʰᵃᵏᵉⁿ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵒ ᵐʸ
ʲᵒᵇ ʷᵉˡˡˀ” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ “ᴵ
ᵍᵒᵗ ʳⁱᵈ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱⁿᵛᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ⁱᵗ
ᵍᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵒʳᵐᵘˡᵃᵉ‧” “ᵂᵉˡˡ⸴ ᴵ’ᵐ 
ʰᵃᵖᵖʸ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉᵃʳ…” “ᴴᵃᵛᵉ ʸᵉ ˢᵉᵉⁿ
ᵖⁱᵖˢᑫᵘᵉᵃᵏ⸴ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇˀ” ᴴᵉ 
ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵃᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ “ᴸᵒᵗˢ
ᵒᶠ ᵗⁱᵐᵉˢᵎ” ᴸᵃᵘᵍʰᵉᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ‧ 
“ᴵᵗ’ˢ ⁿⁱᶜᵉ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉᵃʳ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃʳᵉ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᴵ ᵍᵒᵗ
ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉᵈ ᵇʸᵉᵎ” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ʰᵃⁿᵍˢ ᵘᵖ ᵗʰᵉ 
ᵖʰᵒⁿᵉ‧ ᴴᵉ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ˡⁱᵏᵉᵈ ᶜᵒⁿᶠˡⁱᶜᵗ 
ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ’ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵗᵒ ˡⁱᵉ‧ “ᵂᵉ ᵇᵒᵗʰ
ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ʳᵉˢᵗ…” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠⁱˣᵉᵈ ᵃ 
ʷᵃʳᵐ ᵇˡᵃⁿᵏᵉᵗ ᵃᶰᵈ
ʳᵉᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃʸ’ˢ ᵉᵛᵉⁿᵗˢ‧ 
ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʳᵒʷᵇᵃʳ‧ 
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵏᵒⁿᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ⸴ ᶜᵒˡᵈ‧ 
ᵀʰᵉ ᶠᵉᵃʳ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵍᵃˢᵖˢ‧ ᵀʰᵉ 
ᵉᵐᵒᵗⁱᵒⁿ‧ “ᴸᵉᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱᶠ 
ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵃⁿʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ…”
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ “ᵀʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ…”
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃⁱᵈ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ˢʰᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ
ᵃᶠᶠᵉᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ‧ ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ ⁱᵗ’ˢ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ ʰᵉ
ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵈᵒ ᵃˢ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏⁱᵈ ʷʰᵒ’ˢ
ᶰᵒʷ ᶠᵃˢᵗ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧
ᴴᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ⁱᵗ’ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇˢ
ᶠᵃᵘˡᵗ⸴ ᵃˡᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵉᵐᵇᵃʳʳᵃˢˢᵉᵈ ʷʰᵉⁿ
ʰᵉ ᵉᵛᵉⁿᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱᶻᵉᵈ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʰᵃˢ 
ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ ᵒⁿᶜᵉ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ
ʰⁱᵐ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵒᶜᶜᵘʳʳᵉᵈ‧ ᴴᵉ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ
ʷᵃⁿᵗˢ ᵗᵒ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵛᵘˡⁿᵉʳᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ
ᵃᵖᵖʳᵉᶜⁱᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏⁱᵈˑ ᴴᵉ ᵐᵒᵛᵉᵈ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉʳˑ
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ʷᵒᵏᵉ ᵉᵃʳˡʸ ᵗᵒ
ˢᵘⁿʳⁱˢᵉ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵉᵃⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ
ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿˢᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵖᵉᵗ
ʰᶤᵐ ᵍᵉᶰᵗˡʸˑ
ᴴᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ’ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱᶠ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ’ᵈ
ᵃᵗᵗᵉⁿᵈ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ⸴ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʷᵃⁿᵗˢ
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ
ʳᵉˢᵘᵐⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴼʳ ᵃᵗ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ ᵗᵒ
ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵍᵉᵗˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧ ᵂʰⁱᶜʰ
ᵉᵛᵉʳ’ˢ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ʷᵃˢ
ʷᵃⁿᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵃˡˡ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʰᵉʳ
ᵃˡᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ
ⁿᵒᵗ ᵇᵉ ʰᵃᵖᵖʸ‧ ᔆᵒ ʰᵉ ˢⁿᵉᵃᵏˢ ᵒᵘᵗ
ⁱⁿ ᵃ ᵈⁱᶠᶠᵉʳᵉⁿᵗ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵃˡˡ ʰᵉʳ‧ 
“ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ…” “ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇˀ” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ
ʷᵃˢ ˢᵘʳᵖʳⁱˢᵉᵈ ʷʰᵉⁿ ˢʰᵉ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ʰⁱᵐ 
ˢᵖᵉᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᑫᵘⁱᵉᵗˡʸ‧ “ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱᵗ’ˢ 
ᵉᵃʳˡʸ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ⁱⁿᶠᵒʳᵐ ʸᵒᵘ
ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ 
ᵏⁿᵒʷ…” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸ
ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ‧ “ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ⸴ ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵒ
ᵐᵘᶜʰ ˡᵒᵒᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵘᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐᵎ ᴴᵉ
ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵖᵉˢᵗᵉʳ ʰⁱᵐ 
ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ⁱᵗ…” “ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ; ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ 
ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ⁱᵗ ⁿᵉᶜᵉˢˢᵃʳʸ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʸᵒᵘ…”
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃʷᵒᵏᵉ ᵃˢ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ
ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧ “ᵂʰᵉʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ʳᵘⁿⁿⁱⁿᵍ
ᵒᶠᶠ ᵗᵒˀ” ᴴᵉ ᑫᵘᵉˢᵗⁱᵒⁿᵉᵈ‧ “ᴵ
ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᶜᵃʳᵉ ᵒᶠ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ; ⁿᵒ
ᵇⁱᵍᵍⁱᵉᵎ” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜʰᵘᶜᵏˡᵉᵈ‧ ᔆᵒ
ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᶠⁱⁿⁱˢʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵏᶠᵃˢᵗ⸴ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ
ᵃ ᵏⁿᵒᶜᵏ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ‧ ᴵᵗ’ˢ ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ 
ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵐᵉ ᶜᵒˡˡᵉᶜᵗⁱᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒʸˢ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ˡᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ⁱⁿ‧
“ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏᵎ ᵂʰʸ ᵈᵒ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵃ ˢᵃᶜᵏ ᶠᵒʳˀ”  “ᴵ 
ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᵏʳᵃᵇᵇʸ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ ᶠᵒʳ ᵘˢ…”  
ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ᵃⁿˢʷᵉʳᵉᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ “ᴵ ʷᵉⁿᵗ
ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵃʷ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ‧ ᴹʳ‧ 
ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʷᵃˢ ᵈᵒⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʲᵒᵇ ᵗᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵃⁿᵈ
ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵐᵉ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʸᵉˢᵗᵉʳᵈᵃʸ‧”
“ᵂᵃⁱᵗ⸴ ʷʰᵃᵗ…” “ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ˢᵃʸˢ ʸᵒᵘ
ˡᵉᶠᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ʰᵉ ᵏᵒⁿᶜᵏᵉᵈ
ᵒᵘᵗˀ ᴬˡᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ᴵ’ᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵉˣᵃᶜᵗˡʸ ˢᵘʳᵉ
ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵏᵒⁿᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵐᵉᵃⁿˢ…” 
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃᵘᵍʰᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰ ᶠᵉᵃʳᶤᶰᵍ
ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ'ˢ ʳᵉᵃᶜᵗᶤᵒᶰ‧ ᴴᵉ 
ᵏᵉᵖᵗ ˢⁱˡᵉⁿᵗ‧ ᴼᶠ ᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵈⁱᵈ
ⁿᵒᵗ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵖᵘᵗ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵖᵒᵗ‧ “ᵂʰᵃᵗ…”
“ᴵ ʰᵒᵖᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ’ᵗ ᵗᵉˡˡ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ …” “ᴵ ᵈⁱᵈ
ⁿᵒᵗ⸴ ᵃˢ ᴵ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵘʳᵍᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉⁿ‧”
“ᵂᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʰⁱᵐ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ’ᵈ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ʰⁱᵐ
ᵗᵒ ᵏⁿᵒʷˀ” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧
“ᴵ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ᵃʷᵃⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵐʸ ᵐᵃᶜʰⁱⁿᵉ
ᵗᵒ ᵃⁿᵃˡʸᶻᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵉⁿᵗˢ ᵒᶠ ᵃ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ
ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ʷʰᵃᵗ’ˢ ⁱⁿ ⁱᵗ‧ ᴵ
ᵍᵘᵉˢˢ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵍᵒᵗ
ᵃ ᶜʳᵒʷᵇᵃʳ⸴ ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᵘᶰᵗᶤˡ ᴵ
ᵉᶰᵈᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ʰᵉʳᵉ…” “ᴵ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ
ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵃⁿᵈ…” “ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ ᵉᵛᵉʳ
ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵈᵃᶻᵉᵈ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵏⁿᵒᶜᵏᵉᵈ
ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵉᵃᵈˀ ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵍᵒᵗ
ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʳᵒʷᵇᵃʳ⸴ ⁱᵗ ᵏⁿᵒᶜᵏᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ
ʰᵉᵃᵈ⸴ ʳᵉⁿᵈᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵉ ᵒᶠ 
ˢᵉⁿˢᵉˡᵉˢˢⁿᵉˢˢ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ʳᵉᵐᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ 
ᵘⁿᵗⁱˡ ᴵ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ʰⁱᵐ ʰᵉʳᵉ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵛᵉʳ ᶠʳᵒᵐ
ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ⁿᵒⁿᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢ…” “ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ⸴ 
ⁱᵗ’ˢ ᵘⁿᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗ ⁿᵒⁿ⁻ᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢ;
ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵇˡᵃᵇ⸴ ᵃᵗ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ
ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵃᶜᵗˢ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗᵎ” “ᴴᵒʷ’ˢ ⁱᵗ ᶠᵉᵉˡ…”
“ᵂᵉˡˡ ⁱᶠ ʰᵉ’ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ’ˢ
ⁿᵒ ᵃʷᵃʳᵉⁿᵉˢˢ ᵒᶠ ˢᵘʳʳᵒᵘⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍˢ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ
ᶠᵒʳᵗᵘⁿᵃᵗᵉˡʸ ʰᵉ’ˢ ᵈᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃⁿ
ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ⸴ ʷᵉˡˡ⸴ ᴵ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ
ᵗᵉˡˡ ʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ’ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ ᵘⁿᵗⁱˡ
ᴵ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵍᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ ᵒᵇˢᵉʳᵛᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵒᶠ
ˢᵘʳʳᵒᵘⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍˢ‧ ᴼⁿᵉ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ʳᵉᶜᵃˡˡ
ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵈⁱˢᵒʳⁱᵉⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿⁿᵒᵗ
ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ᵃⁿʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ᵇᵉᵗʷᵉᵉⁿ…” “ᴵ 
ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ʰᵉ’ˢ ᵍᵒᵗ ⁱᵗ⸴ ᔆᑫᵘᵃʳᵉᴾᵃⁿᵗˢᵎ ᴮᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ
ⁿᵒᵗ ᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿ ⁱᵗ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ⸴ ᴾⁱⁿᵏʸᵎ” “ᴵ
ᵖʳᵒᵐⁱˢᵉᵎ” ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ⁿᵉʳᵛᵒᵘˢ‧ ᴶᵘˢᵗ
ᵗʰᵉⁿ⸴ ᵃⁿᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵏⁿᵒᶜᵏ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ‧ “ᴺᵒʷ
ʷʰᵃᵗˀ” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢⁱᵍʰᵉᵈ⸴ ᵒᵖᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ
ᵈᵒᵒʳ ᵗᵒ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧ “ᴵ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᶠᵃˢᵗ
ᵃˢ ᴵ ᵖᵒˢˢⁱᵇˡʸ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ
ᵗᵒ ᵗᵉˡˡ ᵐᵉ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʰᵘʳᵗ…”
“ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ’ᵗ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵉᵃʳˡʸ…”
“ᴵ ʷᵃˢ ᵖˡᵃⁿⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ˡᵉᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵉᵃʳˡⁱᵉʳ
ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ‧” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ
ᵉˣᵖˡᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ‧ “ᴸᵉᵗ'ˢ ᵍᵒ…”
ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃᶰᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵃᵛᵉᵈ‧

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ᴴᵃᵖᵖʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᴮⁱʳᵗʰᵈᵃʸ
⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾
"ᴵᵗ'ˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵇⁱʳᵗʰᵈᵃʸ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ!"
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ
ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵈᵃʸ ᵉⁿᵈᵉᵈ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ⁱⁿ
ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃˡᵏ ᵗᵒ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧
"ᴴᵉˡˡᵒ⸴ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ! ᴵ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʲᵘˢᵗ
ᵗᵃˡᵏ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ
ʰᵒʷ ʷᵉ'ˡˡ ᶜᵉˡᵉᵇʳᵃᵗᵉ ʰⁱˢ ᵇⁱʳᵗʰᵈᵃʸ‧"
"ᴴᵉ'ˢ ᵗᵉⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵖᵉᵗ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ
ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵒʷ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵍᵒᵗ ⁿᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ
ᵖˡᵃⁿⁿᵉᵈ ʸᵉᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ‧
ᵂᵉ'ʳᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵉˣᵖᵉᶜᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿʸ
ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ! ᴬⁿʸ ⁱᵈᵉᵃˢ?"
"ᵂʰᵃᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵈᵒᵉˢ ʰᵉ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵒᵘᵗ
ᵒᶠ ᵇᵉᵈ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ?"
"ᴵᵗ ᵛᵃʳⁱᵉˢ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ 
ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵉᵃʳˡʸ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ
ˢᵃʸˢ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵈᵃʸ ᵒⁿ
ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᵇⁱʳᵗʰ
ᵈᵃʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʳᵉᵐᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ
ᵒᵇˡⁱᵛⁱᵒᵘˢ ᵗᵒ ᵖʳᵉᵖ ᵈᵒʷⁿ
ˢᵗᵃⁱʳˢ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵘʳᵖʳⁱˢᵉ ᵖᵃʳᵗʸ‧
ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ
ᵍᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ᵒᶠᶠ ⁱⁿ ᵃ
ᵇᵃᵈ ᵐᵒᵒᵈ⸴ ˢᵒ ˢʰᵉ
ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈᵉᵈ ˡᵉᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ
ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ⁱⁿ ᶠᵒʳ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵃ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ
ˡᵒⁿᵍᵉʳ ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉ ʰᵉ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ
ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵏⁱⁿᵈˡʸ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ
ʲᵒˡᵗᵉᵈ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ‧ ᔆᵒ ˢʰᵉ
ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ˡᵉᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉʳ
ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵒⁿᵗⁱⁿᵘᵉ
ᵗᵒ ᑫᵘⁱᵉᵗˡʸ ˢⁿᵒʳᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵇᵉᵈ‧
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵉᵛᵉⁿᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵍᵒᵗ ʰⁱᵐ
ˢᵉˡᶠ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵗᵒ
ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ᶜʰᵉᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒⁿ‧
"ᴸᵉᵗ'ˢ ˢⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᵃˡˡ ⁿᵒʷ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ
ᵗᵒˡᵈ‧ ᴬˡˡ ᵖᵃʳᵗⁱᶜⁱᵖᵃⁿᵗˢ ˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ
ᵗʰᵉ ᵇⁱʳᵗʰᵈᵃʸ ˢᵒⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃᵗᵉ ˢʷᵉᵉᵗˢ‧
ᴬⁿᵈ ˢᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵉⁿʲᵒʸᵉᵈ
ᵇᵉˢᵗ ᵇⁱʳᵗʰᵈᵃʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖᵃʳᵗʸ ᵉᵛᵉʳ!

new birthdaycore plankarenbob happy plankton birthday

ᶠᵃˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᴰᵒʷⁿ
⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾
"ᴬ ʰᵒᵗ⁻ᵃⁱʳ ᵇᵃˡˡᵒᵒⁿ‽" ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ
ʷᵃˢ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵇʸ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷʰʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ
ᵍᵒᵗ ʰᵘʳᵗ⸴ ᶠᵒʳ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ
ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᶠˡⁱⁿᶜʰᵉᵈ ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉ ᵗʰᵉⁿ‧ "ᴹᵃʸ ᴵ
ᵍᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᵇʸ ʰⁱᵐ? ᴴᵉ'ˢ ᵃ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ‧‧‧"
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ
ᶠᵒʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵒ ʰᵉ ˢᵃᵗ ᵇʸ
ʰⁱᵐ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵖᵃᵗᵗᵉᵈ
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ‧ "ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ
ʰᵉᵃʳ ᵐᵉ? ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧"
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵖᵉᵗ ᵖᵘᵖᵖʸ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ
ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ
ʷʰⁱᵐᵖᵉʳˢ ᶜᵒⁿᶜᵉʳⁿᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ
ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿᵉʳ‧ "ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ⁱˢ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ
ˢᵒ ᴵ'ˡˡ ˡᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵘᵖ‧ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵒⁿ
ᵘᵖ ᵇᵒʸ!" ᴴᵉ ᵈⁱᵈ ˢᵒ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ
ⁿᵘᵈᵍᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵒʳʳⁱᵉᵈ‧
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃʳᵗ
ᵇʳᵉᵃᵏ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢⁱᵍʰᵗ‧ "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ
ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵘˢ ˢᵒᵐᵉ
ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ
ᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵉⁿᵗˡʸ ˢᑫᵘᵉᵉᶻᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ
ʰᵃⁿᵈ ʳᵘᵇᵇⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵗʰᵘᵐᵇ‧
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵖᵉⁿᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ
ʷⁱᵗʰ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒᵍᵉᵗʰᵉʳ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ
ᵇᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵉᵃᶜʰ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ‧ ᴬᵗ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ʳᵉᵐᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᶜᵒᵐᵃ
ᵘⁿᵐᵒᵛⁱⁿᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ᵃʷᵃʳᵉⁿᵉˢˢ‧
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ
ʰⁱˢ ˢⁱᵈᵉ⸴ ᵗᵃˡᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ
ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʰⁱˢ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵘᶜʰ‧
ᴴᵉ ᶜʰᵃᵗᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ
ᵘᵖ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ
ʰᵒᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ˢⁱᵍⁿ ᵒᶠ ᵃⁿʸ
ᵖᵒˢˢⁱᵇˡᵉ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵛᵉʳʸ‧ "ᴵ ˢᵉᵉ
ᔆᵖᵒᵗ'ˢ ᵗᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᵗ ʰᵃʳᵈ ᵃˢ
ʷᵉˡˡ ˢᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵏᵉ
ᵘᵖ⸴ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉᵉᵉᵉᵉᵉᵉᵉᵉᵉᵉᵉᵉ‧‧"
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ
ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ᵗᵒ ᶠᵃˡˡ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵐᵉ ˢᵒ
ᵈᵉˢᵖᵉʳᵃᵗᵉ ʰᵉ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃˡˡ
ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ ᵇᵘᵗ
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵖᵃⁱᵈ ⁿᵒ ʰᵉᵉᵈ‧
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ
ˢᵉᵉ ⁱᶠ ʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ
ʳᵉˡⁱᵉᵛᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ʰᵉ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ⁱˢ‧
ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ᶜʳᵃʷˡᵉᵈ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳ
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵃʳᵐ ˢᵒ ᵃˢ
ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ‧
"ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ
ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵒ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ
ᵗʰᵃⁿ ˢᵗᵃʸ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇʸ‧‧"
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵃⁿ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ
ᶠⁱⁿᵍᵉʳˢ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵃⁿᵗᵉⁿⁿᵃ‧
"ᵂᵉ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧" ˢᵃⁱᵈ
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ⸴ ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈⁱⁿᵍ
ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ʳᵉˢᵗ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᶠᵒʳ
ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ˢᵗᵃʸᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵃˡˡ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧
'ᵂᵉ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ' ˢᵃⁱᵈ
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉ
ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ
ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ 
ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ
ᵒʳ ᶜᵒᵐᵖʳᵉʰᵉⁿᵈᵉᵈ
ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᶜᶜⁱᵈᵉⁿᵗ‧
ᴮᵒᵗʰ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃⁿᵈ
ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵗⁱʳᵉᵈ‧
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉᵃⁿ
ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵍᵃⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ
ˢᵉⁿˢᵉˢ ᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢⁿᵉˢˢ‧
ᴺᵉⁱᵗʰᵉʳ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ⁿᵒʳ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ
ᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ
ʰⁱˢ ᵃᵗᵗᵉᵐᵖᵗˢ ᵃᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵍʳᵘⁿᵗ‧
ᴴⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵈᵘˡˡ ᵃˢ
ʷᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗ ʸᵉᵗ
ᵐᵒᵛⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵉᵗ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵈⁱᵈ
ᵐᵃⁿᵃᵍᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵗʳᵉⁿᵍᵗʰ
ᵗᵒ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃˢ
ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉˡⁱᵈ ⁿᵒʷ ˢˡᵒʷˡʸ 
ᵒᵖᵉⁿˢ ᶠˡᵘᵗᵗᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ‧
ᴳʳᵘⁿᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ
ˢᵗʳᵘᵍᵍˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵒᵐᵖʳᵉʰᵉⁿᵈ
ⁱᶠ ⁿᵒᵗ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ˢᵒ‧ "ᵂʰ‧‧‧"
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵖᵘᵗ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ
ʰᵉᵃᵈ ʳᵉᵗᵘʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵉⁿˢᵉˢ‧
"ᵂʰᵃ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ᵃʷᵒᵏᵉ ᵗᵒ
ᵃˢ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ ⁿᵒʷ ˢʷᵃʳᵐᵉᵈ
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ⁿᵒʷ‧
ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᵇᵃʳᵏᵉᵈ ˡⁱᵏᵉ
ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ'ˢ
ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ
ᵇᵒᵇ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃˡᵉʳᵗ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒ‧
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵉʸᵉˢ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ
ᵃˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ʰᵘʳʳⁱᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ
ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒʷ
ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ˢᵗᵒᵖˢ ᵇᵃʳᵏⁱⁿᵍ
ᵇᵘᵗ ⁿᵒʷ ʷᵃᵍᵍⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵗᵃⁱˡ‧
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ
ᵘᵖ ᵉᵐᵇʳᵃᶜⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴼʰ ᴵ
ᵃᵐ ˢᵒ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵉ
ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵒᵛᵉʳʷʰᵉˡᵐᵉᵈ‧"
ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗᵉᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ
ᵇᵒᵇ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᶠⁱᵍʰᵗⁱⁿᵍ
ᵈⁱᶻᶻⁱⁿᵉˢˢ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢᵗʳᵘᵍᵍˡᵉˢ‧
"ᴴᵒʷ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ
ᵃʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵘʳʳᵒᵘⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍˢ
ᶜᵒⁿᶠᵘˢᵉᵈ/ᵈⁱˢᵒʳⁱᵉⁿᵗᵉᵈ‧
"ᵂᵉ'ʳᵉ ⁱⁿ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵇᵉᵈʳᵒᵒᵐ ⁿᵒʷ
ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧‧‧" "ᴵ‧‧‧
ᴵ'ᵐ⸴ ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵉˡᵗ
ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ‧ "ᴬʰ⸴ ᵒʷ‧‧
ᶜᵃⁿ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵗᵉˡˡ ᵐᵉ
ʷʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ‽" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ
ʷᵉᵃᵏˡʸ ˢⁿᵃᵖᵖᵉᵈ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒˡᵈ
ʰⁱᵐ ʰᵒʷ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍᵒᵗ ʰᵘʳᵗ
ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵃˢ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ
ʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃʸˢ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧
"ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘ
ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉ ʸᵉˢᵗᵉʳᵈᵃʸ‧‧‧"
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉ
ᵖᵃᵗˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵘᵖ
ᵒᵘᵗ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ
ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵛᵉʳˢ‧ "ᴸᵉᵃⁿ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ
ᵈᵒʷⁿ ⁿᵒʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ
ᶠⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁱᵗ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʸˢ‧
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵇˡʸ ᵍʳᵉʷ
ᶠʳᵘˢᵗʳᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ
ᵛᵘˡⁿᵉʳᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵉᵃʳʸ‧
ᴴᵉ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ
ᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃᵘᵍʰᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ⁱⁿ‧ "ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ
ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵈᵒ‧‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ
ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ⁱⁿʲᵘʳᵉᵈ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ʳᵉˢᵗ!"
ᴴᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ᶠᵉᵉˡ
ᵉᵐᵇᵃʳʳᵃˢˢᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ
ᵇᵒᵇ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵃˡˡ
ᵃᵗᵗᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵃⁿʸ ʷᵉᵃᵏⁿᵉˢˢ‧
ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ ʷᵃⁿᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉˡᵖ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵒᶠᶠᵉʳᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ
ᵗᵒ ʰᵒˡᵈ⸴ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ
ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ‧ "ᴵᵗ'ˢ ᶠⁱⁿᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵃˢᵏ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃⁿʸ
ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ʷᵉ ᵃˡˡ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ʰᵉˡᵖ‧ ᔆᵒ ᵈᵒ
ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ⸴ ᵒʳ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ'ˢ ᵈⁱˢᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗ?"
"ᴳᵘᵉˢˢ ᴵ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉˡᵃˣ‧‧‧"
"ᴵ ˢᵉᵉ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃⁱᵈ
ᵍˡᵃᵈ ʰᵉ ᶠⁱⁿᵃˡˡʸ ᵒᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ
ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃⁿ ʰᵒⁿᵉˢᵗ ᵃⁿˢʷᵉʳ‧
ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ ᵒⁿ
ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢʰᵉ ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ ʰᵉʳ
ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᵈᵒᶻⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᶠᶠ ʷⁱᵗʰ
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵐᵃˢˢᵃᵍⁱⁿᵍ
ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ˢᵗᵃʸᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ
ʷⁱᵗʰ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵉᵐᵇʳᵃᶜᵉ‧
ᵀʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ʷᵉᵉᵏ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ
ᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵃˢ ᵃᵗ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵒᵐᵉ
ˡᵃˢᵗ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃˢ
ʰᵉ ᶜᵃˡᵐᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ
ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ⁱᵐᵖʳᵒᵐᵖᵗᵘ ⁿᵃᵖ‧
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵒᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ
ᶠʳᵒⁿᵗ ᵈᵒᵒʳ‧ "ᴴⁱ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ
ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵃʸ ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏˢ⸴ ᵒ ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏ
ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵒʳ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ᵒⁿ ᵐᵉ‧
ᴵ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ᵃ ʷᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ʷʰᵉⁿ
ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᴵ ʷᵃˢ ˡᵒᵛᵉᵈ⸴ ˢᵒ ⁿᵒʷ
ᴵ ᵍᵘᵉˢˢ ᴵ ʳᵉᵖᵃʸ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇʸ ˢᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ 
ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ˡᵒᵛᵉᵈ⸴ ʷᵃⁱᵗ ʷʰʸ ᵃʳᵉ
ʸᵒᵘ ᶜʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ʷʰᵃᵗ‧‧‧" "ᴵ'ᵐ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˢᵒ
ʰᵃᵖᵖʸ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉᵃʳ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵃʸ‧ ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ
ⁱᵗ ᵐᵘˢᵗ'ᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ʰᵃʳᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵒᵘ
ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ'ᵐ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵍˡᵃᵈ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ
ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ! ᴵ'ᵐ ʳᵉˡⁱᵉᵛᵉᵈ‧"
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰᵘᵍᵍᵉᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧
"ᴶᵘˢᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵗʳʸ
ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ⸴ ᵏⁱᵈ‧‧‧"
"ᴵ'ᵈ ᵉˣᵖᵉᶜᵗ ⁿᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ˡᵉˢˢ!"

new comacore plankarenbob bobplank falling down

THE LIFE OF UNITY iv
(Autistic author)

Kevin's smirk is long gone, 
replaced by a look of shock 
and regret. "I... I had 
no idea," he stammers. "I 
didn't mean to... 
I didn't know."

Plankton's antennae quiver. 
"Kevin," he murmurs, "you 
hurt Plankton."

Sponge Bob's protectively 
around Plankton, who is now visibly 
upset. "You hurt Plankton's feelings," 
he says, his voice firm but not unkind. 
"You see, Plankton had an accident. 
He's not the same as before. 
He nearly broke his 
skull on a cash register at 
the Krusty Krab. 
It changed him."

Kevin's expression shifts from shock to disbelief. 
"What do you mean, 'changed him'?" 
he asks, his tentacles quivering slightly.

"He has autism now," Sponge Bob says 
simply, never leaving
Plankton's trembling form. "It's ok, 
Plankton," he murmurs, tightening around 
the tiny plankton. "You're still you."

Kevin's eyes widen, the reality of the situation 
sinking in. "Oh my...," he whispers, his 
tentacles dropping to his sides. "I had no idea."

Plankton's voice 
filled with accusation. 
"Kevin," he murmurs, "you 
didn't know. You didn't care."

Kevin's eyes are wide. "I'm sorry
I didn't mean to..."

But Plankton's cutting 
off Kevin's apology. "Kevin," 
he murmurs, his one eye 
flashing with 
pain. "Kevin not care."

"I'm sorry, Plankton. I didn't 
mean to be so cruel."

But Plankton's unyielding. 
"Kevin," he murmurs, his 
one eye still brimming with 
unshed tears. "You didn't 
know. You no care."

Kevin's smugness evaporates 
as the weight of his own 
words crashes down on him. 
The realization that his 
careless jests have caused 
such pain is written all over 
his face. His eyes are wide 
with horror, his tentacles 
trembling. "I'm sorry," he 
whispers, starting to touch Plankton. 

But Plankton recoils at the 
touch, his antennae quivering 
violently, his monotone voice 
filled with panic. "NO!" he
squeaks, his one eye wide with 
fear. "Kevin, no touch!"

Kevin's tentacles jerk back as 
if burned, his eyes filled with 
shock and remorse. "I'm sorry," 
he says quickly, his voice
thick with regret. "I didn't 
know. I didn't mean to..."

"Kevin, no touch," he repeats, 
his one eye flashing. 
"Plankton not like that."

"I didn't know," he whispers, 
his eyes never leaving
Plankton's trembling form. 
"I'm so sorry."

But Plankton's antennae continue 
to quiver, his monotone 
voice a sad echo of the fear 
he feels. "Kevin," he murmurs, 
his one eye fixed on the sea 
cucumber, "you didn't know. 
You don't care."

Sponge Bob's placing 
himself between Plankton 
and the sea cucumber. "Kevin," 
he says firmly with a newfound resolve. 
"You need to apologize to Plankton. 
What you said was not okay."

Kevin's tentacles quiver, his eyes 
darting from Sponge Bob to 
Plankton's trembling form. 
"I'm... I'm sorry," he stammers, his 
smugness replaced by genuine contrition. 
"I didn't know. I didn't 
mean it like that."

But Plankton's antennae quiver 
with a mix of anger
and sadness, his monotone voice 
still echoing the 
pain of the insult. "Kevin," he 
murmurs, his one eye 
narrowed, "you hurt Plankton."

Kevin's expression falls, the full 
impact of his words hitting 
him like a brick wall. He takes a 
step back, his tentacles 
drooping. "I didn't know," he says, 
his voice barely above a
whisper. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize 
you had... you know."

But Plankton's antennae quiver 
with a mix of anger and pain.

"Kevin," he murmurs, his monotone 
voice strained. "Kevin hurt 
Plankton. Not funny."

Kevin's tentacles twitch, his expression 
a mix of shock and 
discomfort. "Look, I didn't know," he says, 
his voice quivering. 
"I'm sorry. I just..."

But Plankton's antennae quiver 
with a mix of anger and 
sadness, his monotone voice 
cutting through the awkward 
silence. "Space," he murmurs, 
his one eye pleading.

Kevin creeps up closer. "Space? What..."

But Plankton's antennae quiver with 
a mix of anger and fear, his 
monotone voice a sad echo of the 
pain Kevin's words have caused. 
"Plankton," he murmurs, his one eye 
wide with desperation. "Alone."

Kevin still doesn't understand. 
"You're not alone," 
he starts, reaching out.

But Plankton's antennae 
quiver more fiercely, 
his monotone voice filled 
with a rare urgency. "No," 
he murmurs, 
his one eye darting 
around. "Space."

"I don't underst--"

But Plankton's filled 
with a desperation 
Kevin had never heard before. 
"Space," he murmurs again, more 
forcefully this time. 
"Kevin, go."

"Go to outer space? But..."

"Space," Plankton repeats more 
insistently, his eye frantic.

Kevin's with confusion. "But, Plankton
we're in the middle 
of the jellyfish fields."

But Plankton's antennae quiver 
with urgency, his monotone voice 
unwavering. "Space," he murmurs, 
his one eye pleading. "Now."

"I don't..." Kevin starts, 
grabbing Plankton's hand.

But Plankton's antennae quiver 
with anger, and he pulls away, 
his monotone voice rising. "SPACE!" 
he shouts, his eye flashing 
with fury.

Startled, Kevin takes a step back. 
"Where in outer space?"

But Plankton's antennae quiver with 
impatience, his monotone 
voice tight. "Any space," he 
cries. "Just go."

Kevin's tentacles twitch, his 
smugness forgotten. "But... 
but what about the jellyfish? 
Oh do you mean any planet.." 
He says, absent mindedly 
putting his hand on 
Plankton's back.

But Plankton's antennae quiver 
with anger, and he jumps 
away. "NO TOUCH!" he screams, 
his monotone voice cracking 
with emotion. "PLANKTON. NEED. SPACE!"

Kevin's tentacles recoil as if 
stung, his eyes wide with 
shock. "I'm sorry," he stammers, 
taking a step back. 
"I can't fly a rocket to space.."

But Plankton's antennae quiver 
with rage. "Any space," 
he repeats, his one eye 
glaring. "Away."

Kevin's tentacles hang limp, his 
smugness shattered by 
the depth of Plankton's pain. 
"But, Plankton, we can't leave 
Earth without..."

But Plankton's antennae quiver 
with fury, his monotone 
voice a whip crack. "Any space," 
he repeats, his one eye 
narrowed. "Now."

Kevin's tentacles retract, his 
smugness gone. "Any planet 
other than Earth? I'd like to 
help but..."

But Plankton's antennae quiver 
with frustration, his 
monotone voice cutting through 
the confusion. "Not space," 
he murmurs, his one eye blazing 
with anger. "Space."

Kevin's tentacles tremble, his 
smile fading into a look 
of fear. "I can't get outer 
space without a rocket?" he 
says, taking a step back.

But Plankton's antennae quiver 
with anger, his monotone 
voice a thunderclap in the 
stillness. "No rocket," he 
murmurs, his one eye flashing. 
"Space. Now."

Kevin's tentacles quiver, his 
smugness replaced by fear. 
"But Plankton," he stammers, taking 
a step back, "we 
can't just go to space without..."

But Plankton's antennae quiver with 
rage, his monotone 
voice a whip crack. "Space," he repeats, 
his one eye narrowed. "Now."

Kevin's tentacles retreat, his smugness replaced 
by a look of pure terror. "But Plankton, 
I can't just leave the 
sea," he says, his voice shaking.

But Plankton's antennae quiver with a mix of anger 
and desperation, his monotone voice a thunderclap 
in the quiet waters. "Space," he repeats unwavering.

Kevin's tentacles retreat, his smugness replaced by a look 
of fear as he tries to comprehend Plankton's words. "But 
Plankton," he stammers, "you can't survive in space. 
It's not possible."

But Plankton's antennae quiver with anger, his monotone 
voice a monotone shout. "Space," he repeats, his one 
eye flashing with desperation. "Away from here."

Kevin's tentacles retract, his smugness dissolving in
to confusion. "But Plankton, we're in the middle of 
jellyfish fields," he says, his voice trembling. 
"We can't just..."

But Plankton's antennae quiver with a mix of anger and 
desperation, his monotone voice a monotone shout. 
"SPACE!" he repeats, his one eye flashing. 
"Kevin go now!"

Kevin's tentacles twitch, his smugness dissipating like smoke 
in the face of Plankton's distress. "But Plankton 
I don't..." he starts, taking a cautious step back.

Plankton breathes in and gathers his words together, 
his antennae quivering with the effort of controlling 
his emotions. 
"Kevin JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!" he shouts, 
his monotone voice crackling with anger.

Kevin's tentacles quiver in understanding, his 
smugness evaporating like mist in the sun. "Oh," 
he says, his voice small and sad. 
"You mean personal space.."

Plankton's antennae quiver slightly, his 
monotone voice softening. "Yes," he 
murmurs, his one eye blinking rapidly. "Space."

Sponge Bob nods. "Okay, Kevin," 
he says firmly. "You need to give 
Plankton some space right now. He's going 
through a tough time."

Kevin's smugness is completely gone, 
replaced by a look of genuine concern. 
He takes a step back. "I had no idea," he 
whispers. "I'm really sorry. I'll go. Bye."

new the life of unity spacecore iv

☆꧁lil reminder!: 𝘉𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘫𝘶𝘥𝘨𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦, 𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘦𝘴.
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

new friendscore enemycore bullycore humancore reminder

A LIFE OF DIVERSITY vi
(Autistic author)

Plankton's sobs grew softer in Karen's embrace, his 
tiny body trembling with the weight of his emotions. 
"I-it's okay," Karen whispered, stroking his antennae 
gently. "You can like jellyfish all you want, sweetheart."

Sponge Bob watched from a distance, his heart heavy. 
He had never seen Plankton like this, vulnerable and hurt. 
He knew the two of them had their differences, but this 
was different.

Plankton's sobs grew quieter, but the pain didn't leave 
his eye. Karen held him tight, filled with a fiery 
determination. "Plankton," she whispered soothingly. 
"You don't have to change who you are because of this."

He pulled away slightly, his antennae drooping as he looked 
at her. "But what if jellyfish are all Plankton good for?" he 
murmured, his voice still monotone but filled with a depth 
of emotion that tugged at Karen's heartstrings.

"Plankton, you're more than just jellyfish," Karen said, voice 
firm yet gentle. "You're a smart, resourceful, and determined 
little creature. You've always been so much more than that."

The room was still, the only sound was Plankton's sniffs. 
His antennae drooped, and he looked up at her, his single 
eye red and puffy from crying. "But Karen," he whispered, his 
voice monotone yet filled with emotion, "it's all Plankton know 
now."

Karen's eyes shone with empathy. "That's not true, darling," she 
said, her voice soothing. "You're capable of so much more. We 
just have to figure out how to navigate this new world together."

Sponge Bob hovered awkwardly, unsure of what to do. "Is there 
anything I can do to help?" he offered.

Karen nodded, her tentacles tightening around Plankton. "Could 
you be with him while I admonish Patrick?"

"Of course," Sponge Bob said, moving closer to Plankton.

Plankton's antennae quivered slightly as he nodded.

"I'll be right outside," Karen said, her voice gentle.

Sponge Bob nodded, his gaze focused on Plankton's small 
trembling form. "I've got him," he said, his eyes filled with 
understanding and a newfound respect for the tiny creature 
before him.

As Karen left to talk to Patrick 
Sponge Bob sat down beside 
Plankton, his own heart aching 
for his friend's pain. He knew 
that Plankton was going through 
a difficult time, and he wanted to 
be there for him.

Meanwhile, outside the Chum Bucket, Karen found Patrick 
still standing there, his expression a mix of confusion and 
amusement. "Patrick," she began, her voice sharp, "You need 
to understand something."

Patrick looked at her with his usual vacant stare. "What's up, Karen?"

"You have to understand, Patrick," she began, her voice tight 
with tension. "Plankton's... he's different now."

Patrick's smile faded as he met Karen's stern gaze. "Different?"

Karen sighed, trying to find the words. "Plankton's had an... accident," 
she said. "It's changed him."

Patrick's eyes widened slightly. "What do you mean, changed?"

Karen took a deep breath, trying to find the words to explain 
the complex situation in a way that would make sense to 
someone like Patrick. "Plankton's had a... a bump on the noggin," 
she said, her tentacles gesturing to her own head. "It's affected 
the way he thinks, the way he sees the world."

Patrick's eyes widened in surprise. "Whoa, that's heavy, Karen," he 
said, his tone more serious than it had been in a long time. "Is he ok?"

"Well, he's alive," Karen said, her voice tight with frustration. "But 
he's not the same, Patrick. He's... different."

Patrick's smile faded as he took in her words, his eyes finally 
showing a glimmer of understanding. "What happened?" he 
asked, his tone serious for once.

"It's complicated, Patrick," Karen said. "But the important thing is
he's a new version of himself. So you can choose to be nice to him 
or just leave."

Patrick's face fell, the gravity of the situation finally sinking in. "But 
I didn't know, Karen," he protested, his voice small. "How was I 
supposed to know?"

"It's not about knowing, Patrick," Karen said, her voice firm. "It's about 
being a good friend. And if you can't do that, then maybe it's time for 
you to rethink what friendship really means."

Patrick's expression grew contemplative. "But Karen," he 
began, his voice tentative, "what if Plankton's... you know, not 
right in the head anymore?"

"Patrick, that's not funny," she snapped. "This isn't a game. 
This is real life. And Plankton's life has changed in ways 
you can't even begin to understand."

Patrick looked down at his feet, his usual jovial expression 
replaced by one of contemplation. "I didn't mean to be a jerk," 
he mumbled.

"I know you didn't mean to," Karen said, her tone 
softening slightly. "But you need to be more considerate."

Patrick nodded, his cheeks flushing. "I'll be nicer," he 
promised, his eyes darting to the Chum Bucket door.

"Good," Karen said firmly, then turned back to the Chum Bucket. 
She opened the door to find Plankton still on the floor, clutching 
the jellyfish book. His antennae perked up as she entered.

Sponge Bob looked up, his expression a mix of sadness and 
determination. "I think he's okay."

Plankton sniffled, his antennae drooping. "Jellyfish," he 
murmured, his voice a monotone whisper.

Karen's expression softened as she saw the pain in his eye. "It's 
okay, Plankton," she said, her tentacles reaching out to comfort 
him. "You don't have to be anything other than who you are."

Sponge Bob nodded in agreement. "You're still the same Plankton 
we know and love." 

new a life of diversity jellycore vi

A LIFE OF DIVERSITY vii
(Autistic author)

"We're just going to do what you want. How about a trivia game?"

Plankton's antennae perked up slightly at the mention of 
a game, his love for competition never truly forgotten. 
"Trivia," he echoed, his voice still monotone but with a 
hint of interest.

"Yes, trivia," Karen said, stroking his back gently. "You can 
show us all how much you know."

Plankton looked up at Patrick.

"I'm sorry," Patrick said, voice sincere 
for once. "I didn't mean to make you cry."

Plankton sniffled, his antennae twitching slightly. "Patrick 
mean," he murmured, his voice monotone yet filled with hurt.

"I know, buddy," Sponge Bob said, placing a comforting hand 
on his shoulder. "But he didn't know. Sometimes, Patrick doesn't 
think before he speaks."

Patrick nodded, his eyes downcast. "I guess I'm not the best 
at understanding things," he mumbled.

Sponge Bob leaned closer to Plankton. "Why don't we start our 
game now?" he suggested, his voice gentle. "We can play a 
game about random trivia. Does that sound okay?"

Plankton nodded slowly, antennae still drooping. "Okay," he murmurs.

They around the table, the jellyfish book open to a random page. 
Plankton's gaze remained fixed on it, his mind racing with facts 
and figures. Karen took a deep breath, her tentacles still tense 
from the confrontation with Patrick. "Alright, let's start with 
something easy," she suggested. "What's the scientific name 
for jellyfish?"

Plankton's antennae shot up, his eye lighting up with excitement. 
"Jellyfish scientific name," he recited, "Cnidaria."

"Cnidaria?" Sponge Bob repeated, his eyebrows shooting up. "That's 
right, Plankton!"

Patrick looked at the book, then at Plankton, his eyes wide. "How do you 
know all this stuff?"

Plankton's antennae wiggled slightly. "Plankton read book," he said, his 
voice monotone but with a hint of pride.

"Patrick, I'll ask you a question," Sponge Bob said, his smile genuine.

Patrick nodded, eager to make amends. "Shoot."

Sponge Bob's eyes twinkled with mischief. "Okay, Patrick," he said, "What's 
the square root of 120?"

Patrick's eyes widened, his brain scrambling. He took a deep breath and 
announced, "It's 12?"

"No, Patrick," Plankton said, his voice a monotone but with a hint of 
amusement. "It's 10.190565... but Plankton rounds to 10."

Patrick's face fell as he realized he'd been outsmarted. "Oh," he murmured. 
"Guess I should've studied more at boating school."

"It's okay, Patrick," Karen said.

Sponge Bob's eyes twinkled with encouragement. "Let's keep 
playing, Plankton," he said. "You're doing great."

Plankton nodded, his antennae slightly less droopy.

"Your turn, Plankton," Sponge Bob said. "What's something interesting 
about yourself?"

Plankton paused, his antennae twitching as he searched for words. 
"Interesting?" he echoed.

Sponge Bob nodded encouragingly. "Yes, something that makes you 
special or unique. Tell us all about Plankton."

Plankton's antennae quivered as he thought. "Plankton... good at 
science," he said finally, his monotone voice revealing his pride. 
"Especially jellyfish."

"That's fantastic, Plankton!" Karen exclaimed.

Patrick nodded in agreement. "Yeah, buddy," he said, his voice still 
subdued. "You're a real jellyfish genius."

Plankton's antennae twitched with a hint of satisfaction. "Jellyfish 
have 24 eyes," he said, his voice monotone yet filled with a newfound 
confidence. "But no brain."

"What?" Patrick's eyes widened. "How can they see without a brain?"

Plankton's antennae quivered with excitement as he began to elaborate. 
"Jellyfish have simple nervous system," he said, his voice still flat but 
gaining momentum. "Eyes detect light, not images. Help them avoid 
predators and find food."

Sponge Bob's eyes grew wide with amazement. "Wow
Plankton," he said. "That's so cool!"

"Plankton born cycloptic one eye."

Patrick's jaw dropped as he stared at Plankton. "That's... really cool," he 
murmured, his mind racing to keep up.

Sponge Bob nodded eagerly. "Yeah, Plankton," he said, his voice 
filled with excitement. "Tell us more!"

Plankton's antennae perked up at the genuine interest from his 
friends. "Plankton own Chum Bucket," he said, his voice monotone 
but proud. "Serve chum, best food in Bikini Bottom."

Patrick's eyes lit up. "You're like a chef, Plankton! That's so cool!"

But Plankton's gaze remained on the jellyfish book, his thoughts 
drifting. "Mr. Krabs," he murmured, his voice monotone yet filled 
with a hint of anger. "Has Krabby Patties.."

Karen and Sponge Bob exchanged a glance, knowing the mention of Mr. Krabs.
"Plankton," Karen began cautiously, "we don't have to talk about Krabby Patties 
if you don't want to."
But Plankton's antennae shot up, his voice taking on a new, almost manic energy. 
"No, no," he murmured, his monotone cracking. "Mr. Krabs. Krabby Patties. 
Plankton's purpose."
Sponge Bob's smile faltered, the mention of Krabby Patties bringing back 
memories of their long-standing rivalry. "Plankton," he said gently, "you don't 
have to steal Krabby Patties anymore. You have jellyfish now."
But Plankton's antennae quivered with a strange intensity. "Krabs," he murmured, 
his monotone voice filled with a newfound urgency. "Gave Plankton brain damage. 
Accident," Plankton murmured, his voice low. "Mr. Krabs... Krabby Patty... 
Plankton's brain... changed."

Sponge Bob's smile faded, his heart sinking as he realized 
the gravity of the situation. "Plankton," he said, his voice filled sadness.
But Plankton didn't seem to hear him, lost in his own thoughts. "Plankton 
not same," he murmured. "But jellyfish... jellyfish make Plankton happy."

Karen's eyes filled with understanding. "It's ok, Plankton," she said, her voice 
soothing. "You can still have a purpose. Maybe not with Krabby Patties, but 
with jellyfish."

Plankton's antennae quivered as he repeated her words back to her. "Purpose 
with jellyfish," he murmured.

"Yes, Plankton," Karen said, her tentacles stroking his back gently. "Your purpose 
can be whatever makes you happy."

"Happy," Plankton echoed, his antennae twitching as he repeated her word.

"Yes, happy," Karen said, her voice soothing. "We're here to support you, Plankton."



"Support Plankton," he echoed, his antennae drooping slightly. "But 
Krabs... Plankton's enemy."

Karen's eyes searched Plankton's, her own filled with a gentle warmth. 
"Mr. Krabs doesn't have to be your enemy anymore," she said, her tone 
soothing. "You can find joy in other things."

"Other things," Plankton echoed, his antennae still.

"Yes," Karen said, her tentacles waving gently. "Like jellyfish. You can focus 
on learning about them and sharing your knowledge with others."

"Share knowledge," Plankton repeated, his antennae quivering 
with curiosity.

"Exactly," Karen said, her tentacles gesturing encouragingly. "You can 
start a jellyfish club, remember?"

Plankton's antennae twitched as he processed her words. "Jellyfish 
club," he murmured.

"Yeah, buddy," Sponge Bob said, his voice filled with excitement. "We can all join 
and learn together!"

Plankton's antennae perked up slightly, and a glimmer of hope entered his eye. 
"Club," he murmured, his voice monotone but with a hint of excitement. 

new a life of diversity gamefic vii

A LIFE OF DIVERSITY x
(Autistic author)

"Jellyfish... help Plankton think."

Mr. Krabs's eyes narrowed as he studied Plankton. "So, you're telling 
me that jellyfish... they help you?"

Plankton nodded, his antennae waving slightly. "Yes, Mr. Krabs," he 
murmured. "They're... comforting."

Mr. Krabs's expression softened, the realization of the depth of Plankton's 
connection to jellyfish dawning on him. "Well, in that case," he said, his 
voice gruff but kind, "maybe we can find a way to make peace. No more 
stealing, Plankton."

Plankton's antennae quivered as he 
met Mr. Krabs's gaze. "No more 
stealing," he murmured, his voice firm. 
"Plankton loves jellyfish now."

Mr. Krabs's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Loves jellyfish?" 
he repeated, his voice filled with skepticism. "You're giving 
up your life's work for these... blobs of jelly?"

"It's a special interest," she explained. "It brings him comfort 
and helps him make sense of the world. And who knows, maybe 
it'll lead him to something amazing."

Mr. Krabs's claw tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Well, if jellyfish are 
what you love, Plankton," he said slowly, "then I guess we can find 
a way to... coexist."

Plankton's antennae perked up at the word, his monotone voice 
cracking with hope. "Coexist?"

Mr. Krabs nodded, his expression uncharacteristically thoughtful. 
"Maybe," he said, his voice gruff but not unkind. "But you've got to 
promise me no more stealing."

"No more stealing," Plankton murmured, his antennae waving slightly. 
"Jellyfish... Plankton's friends now."

Mr. Krabs studied him for a moment, then nodded. "Alright," he said 
gruffly. "But you've got to promise me something in return."

"What?" Plankton's monotone voice was filled with caution.

Mr. Krabs leaned in, his expression serious. "You gotta promise 
me, Plankton, that you'll keep on sharing this... this love for 
jellyfish," he said, the words strange and foreign in his mouth. 
"Maybe even teach others about 'em."

Plankton nodded, his antennae 
quivering with excitement. "Teach," he 
murmured, his monotone voice 
cracking. "Plankton can do that."

They had never seen Mr. Krabs and Plankton get along, let alone 
discuss something other than Krabby Patties. The atmosphere 
had shifted from tension to something almost... friendly.

"Come on, Plankton," Karen urged gently. "Let's get you home."

With a heavy heart, Plankton picked up his box of jellyfish, his 
antennae drooping slightly. "Home," he 
murmured. "Chum Bucket."

Sandy and Karen exchanged glances, their expressions filled 
with hope and trepidation. But they also knew that with their 
support and understanding, he could find a new path, one 
that didn't involve stealing Krabby Patties or fighting with Krabs.

The group walked back to the Chum Bucket.

Once inside, Plankton carefully placed his jellyfish figurines 
on a shelf that he had cleared out earlier, his antennae quivering 
with satisfaction as he arranged them in a pattern that only he 
understood. The room was a stark contrast to its usual cluttered 
state, with everything in its place and the once-messy floor now a 
canvas of neatness.

Karen watched. "What are you thinking
Plankton?" she asked softly.

"Chum Bucket," he murmured, his antennae waving slightly. "Home. 
Different now."

Sandy looked around the tidy space, her eyes wide with amazement. 
"You've really turned this place around, Plankton," she said, her voice 
filled with genuine admiration.

Plankton nodded, his antennae twitching slightly. "Needed... order," he 
murmured, his monotone voice filled with a hint of pride. "Jellyfish like 
order."

The three of them sat down at a small table, the weight of their 
conversation lingering in the air like a fine mist. Karen reached out. 
"You know, Plankton," she began, "you don't have to hide anymore. 
You can be you, with your jellyfish and your quirks, and we'll all still 
be here for you."

Plankton's antennae quivered, his eye blinking rapidly as he took in 
her words. "Be me?" he murmured, his 
voice filled with doubt.

"Yes," Sandy said, her voice firm. "You're still you, Plankton. Autism is just 
a part of you, like how jellyfish are part of the ocean."

Plankton studied them, his antennae still, processing their words. It was a 
lot to take in, but he felt a warmth 
spread through his tiny body.

"You really mean it?" he murmured, his monotone voice cracking.

Karen and Sandy nodded in unison. "We do," Karen assured.


A LIFE OF DIVERSITY → THE LIFE OF UNITY
 (leads into the sequel if u like but make sure to read A LIFE OF DIVERSITY i - x first)

new a life of diversity x

A LIFE OF DIVERSITY ix
(Autistic author)

With newfound enthusiasm, Plankton 
began to organize the mini jellyfish 
in the box, his antennae quivering 
as he meticulously arranged them 
by species and size. Each figurine 
was carefully placed, his movements 
deliberate and precise. "Jellyfish... 
special," he murmured, his monotone 
voice filled with a hint of wonder.

Sandy watched, her eyes shining with 
admiration. "You're really good at this," 
she said, her voice filled with warmth.

"Good at jellyfish," Plankton murmured, 
antennae waving slightly with pride. 
"Plankton's special place."

Sandy nodded, her tail swishing with 
excitement. "Yes," she said, her voice 
filled with encouragement. "You have 
a special place in the world, Plankton, 
and jellyfish are your thing."

As Plankton continued to organize his 
new collection, his movements grew 
more animated, his antennae quivering 
with purpose. Each jellyfish was placed 
with such precision that it was as if they 
were living beings in a miniature ocean. 
His eye never left his task, his mind fully 
engrossed in the world of jellyfish. It was 
as if by organizing them, he was somehow 
bringing order to his own chaotic thoughts.

"Plankton," Karen said softly, "I know this is a 
big change for you. But you know what? 
Maybe this is your chance to do 
something amazing with your life."

Sandy nodded, her eyes shining. "Let's go outside."

Plankton looked up from his box, his antennae 
twitching with excitement. "Outside?" 

"Yes, Plankton," Karen said, her smile warm.

They made their way outside, with Plankton carrying 
his precious box of jellyfish figurines, his antennae 
quivering with excitement at the prospect of sharing 
his knowledge. The sun was setting, casting a warm 
glow over Bikini Bottom as the trio strolled down the 
sidewalk.

Their peaceful evening was abruptly interrupted when 
they rounded the corner to find Mr. Krabs, his eyes wide 
with surprise at the sight of Plankton in the company 
of Karen and Sandy. "What's all this?" he barked, voice gruff.

Plankton's antennae drooped slightly, but he held his 
ground, his box of jellyfish figurines clutched tightly. 
"Mr. Krabs," he murmured, monotone voice cracking.

Mr. Krabs squinted at Plankton, his claw resting on his 
chin. "Well, if it isn't the little troublemaker," he said with 
a gruff chuckle. "What brings you out of the Chum Bucket?"

Karen's forced a smile. "We're just out for a little stroll
Krabs," she said. "Plankton's found a new hobby."

Mr. Krabs's eyes narrowed, curiosity piqued by the unusual 
sight of Plankton engaged in something other than his 
usual Krabby Patty obsession. "What kind of hobby?" he asks.

Plankton's antennae quivered as he held up his box of 
jellyfish figurines. "Jellyfish," he murmured, his monotone 
voice filled with a hint of pride.

Mr. Krabs's eyebrows shot up. "Jellyfish?" he repeated, his 
voice incredulous. "What's gotten into you, Plankton? You're 
not planning to use them for some crazy Krabby Patty scheme 
are you?"

Plankton's antennae twitched, but he remained calm. "No, Mr. 
Krabs," he murmured, voice firm. "Plankton loves jellyfish."

Mr. Krabs squinted at him, his claw tapping against his chin 
as he tried to process this new piece of information. "You 
love jellyfish?" he said, his voice filled with skepticism. "What's 
so special about jellyfish?"

Plankton's antennae waved slightly as he thought about how 
to explain it. "Jellyfish... unique," he murmured. 
"Different. Like Plankton."

Mr. Krabs's eyes narrowed. "Different, you say?" he repeated, his 
claw stroking his chin as he contemplated this revelation. "Well
I'll be a barnacle's uncle. I never knew you had an interest in any
thing but stealing me secret recipe."

Karen stepped forward, her tentacles waving gently. "Mr. Krabs, when 
Plankton hit his head because of you and when I took him to the 
hospital, well let's just say things are a little different now."

Mr. Krabs's eyes widened, his 
claw freezing mid-stroke. "Different? What
do you mean, different?"

Karen's tentacles waved in a calming gesture. "Plankton 
was diagnosed with autism after the incident with 
your cash register," she said gently.

Mr. Krabs's eyes bulged, and his claws clutched at his chest 
dramatically. "Autism? What?" he bellowed.

Sandy stepped forward, her voice firm and steady. "It's ok, Mr. 
Krabs," she said, her eyes on the crab. "It just means Plankton's 
brain works differently than ours. But he's still the same 
Plankton we know, and he's found something that makes him 
really happy."

Mr. Krabs's eyes darting between Plankton and his box 
of jellyfish. "Well, I'll be a sea cucumber's uncle," he 
murmured, his expression a mix of shock and confusion.

As they talked, a group of kids playing catch nearby 
accidentally bumped into Plankton, their laughter 
and shouts of excitement cutting through the air. 
In an instant, the delicate balance of jellyfish 
figurines was disrupted, and they spilled out 
of the box, scattered across the sidewalk. The 
children's ball rolled into the mix, coming to a stop.

Plankton froze on the ground, antennae shooting straight 
up, eye unblinking as he stared at the chaos before him. 
The children looked up, their laughter fading as they took 
in the scene.

"Plankton?" Karen's voice was gentle, but it was lost, mind 
racing as he tried to make sense of the sudden disarray.

The children stared, their laughter dying in their throats as 
they saw the tiny plankton's distress. One brave soul 
reached out to help, but pulled back when Plankton didn't react.

Karen and Sandy exchanged a worried glance. "Plankton?" 
Karen called again, her voice a little louder this time.

The children watched, their curiosity piqued by the sight. 
One by one, they cautiously approached, their eyes wide 
with a mix of fear and fascination.

"What's wrong with him?" a young fish whispered to another, their 
eyes darting from Plankton to the scattered jellyfish figurines.

"I think he's in shock," Krabs murmured, his own eyes filled 
with concern. "The disorganization of his jellyfish is really 
bothering him.."

Sandy nodded, her eyes on the children. "Why don't you guys help 
Plankton?" she suggested. "You can put the jellyfish back in the box. 
Let's all put them back the way he had them!"

The children looked at each other, then back at Plankton, who was still 
frozen on the ground. Slowly, they began to pick up the scattered 
figurines, their little hands moving with care as they tried to mimic the 
order Plankton had created. They whispered to each other, comparing 
notes and asking questions, their curiosity 
overcoming their initial fear.

Karen watched them work, her tentacles relaxing slightly as she saw the 
concern in their eyes. "Good job," she murmured, her voice gentle. "You're 
all helping out."

The children nodded, their eyes never leaving Plankton as they carefully 
placed each jellyfish back in the box. They worked in silence, their 
movements a mix of awe and caution. The sight of Plankton's intense 
focus on his jellyfish had left an impression on them, and they were 
determined to help him restore order to his miniature world.

One by one, the jellyfish returned to their spots, each figure a silent 
testament to Plankton's knowledge and passion. The children looked 
at each other, then back at Plankton, who hadn't moved a muscle, still 
rigid, his eye unblinking.

"Is he okay?" the bravest one asked, holding out a tentative fin.

Plankton remained unmoving, his antennae quivering slightly. The 
children's gentle whispers and the soft patter of their flippers on 
the pavement was the only sound as they worked.

The last jellyfish was placed back into the box, the figure of 
Burgessomedusa phasmiformis nestling into its spot among 
the others. The children held their breath, waiting for some 
sign from Plankton that he noticed their efforts.

Slowly, Plankton's antennae lowered, and he blinked once, then 
twice. He looked down into the box, his eyes scanning the neat 
rows of jellyfish. The children watched as a slight smile graced 
his lips, and he let out a sigh of relief. 

The children beamed, their eyes shining with pride, stepping back 
to give him space.

Mr. Krabs, still looking slightly stunned, took a tentative step forward. 
"Plankton?" he asked, his voice gruff but concerned.

Plankton's antennae quivered slightly as he looked up, his one eye focusing 
on the crab. "Mr. Krabs," he murmured, his monotone voice still present but 
with a hint of warmth.

Mr. Krabs's claw hovered over the 
box, unsure of what to say. "I had no idea 
Plankton," he murmured, his eyes 
on the meticulously organized jellyfish.

"It's ok," Plankton said, his monotone voice tinged with sadness. "Mr. 
Krabs didn't know."

Karen stepped in gently. "Krabs is just surprised," she explained. 
"He's never seen you like this before."

Mr. Krabs nodded, his expression softening slightly. "That's right," he 
said, his voice no longer filled with anger. "I've never seen 
you so... focused on something other than Krabby Patties."

"Jellyfish special," Plankton murmured, his antennae waving slightly.

"I didn't mean to cause you brain damage, Plankton.." Mr. Krabs says.

"It's okay," Plankton murmured, his antennae twitching slightly. 

new a life of diversity plabsen ix

ᴬ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ᶜʳʸ ᵒⁿ
⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾
➵ 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍: 𝟧𝟫𝟢
"ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ⸴ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ'ˢ ᵐʸ ᵐᵉᵃᵗˡᵒᵃᶠ?" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏⁱᵗᶜʰᵉⁿ ᶠᵒʳ
ᵗʰᵉ ᵈⁱⁿⁿᵉʳ‧ "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ⸴ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴵ ˢᵃʸ ᴵ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ
ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ˢᵃʷ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ʳᵒᵒᵐ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ˢᵉᵉᵐ
ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ⸴ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠᵃᵘˡᵗ‧" ˢᵃⁱᵈ
ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧ "ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˡᵉᵃʳⁿᵗ ʷʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ
ᶜʳⁱᵉᵈ‧ "ᴵᵗ'ˢ‧‧‧" "ʸᵉˢ?" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡⁱˢᵗᵉⁿᵉᵈ‧ "ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ‧‧‧" "ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʰⁱᵐ; ᵗʰᵉ
ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ ᵇᵃᵗᵗᵉʳ ᶜᵒⁿˢⁱˢᵗˢ ᵒᶠ ᶻᵒᵒᵖˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᴵᵗ'ˢ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵃ ᵐᵃᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵒᶠ
ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘ⸴ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵃⁿ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ
ʳᵒᵒᵐ⸴ ˢᵒᵇᵇⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ⁱⁿ‧ "ᴵˢ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵉʳᵉ?" "ᴵ
ʰᵃᵛᵉⁿ'ᵗ ˢᵉᵉⁿ ʰⁱᵐ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡⁱᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵗᵃˡᵏⁱⁿᵍ‧
"ᵀʰᵉ ˢᵉᶜʳᵉᵗ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗ ⁱˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ˢᵒ ᴵ'ᵐ ʰᵉʳᵉ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵒˡˡᵉᶜᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ
ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ⸴ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵃⁱᵈ⸴ ᵗᵘʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᶠᶠ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ᵖᵒʷᵉʳ‧ ᴹʳ‧
ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ "ᴵ ᵍᵘᵉˢˢ ᵐᵉ ᶠʳʸᶜᵒᵒᵏ ʳᵃⁿ ʰᵒᵐᵉ⸴ ˢᵒ
ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ʰᵉˡᵖˡᵉˢˢˡʸ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵉ‧ ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵇᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱⁿⁱˢʰ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵃˡⁱᵛᵉ‧"
ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢˡᵃᵐˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵃʳᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ
ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ˡᵒᶜᵏⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ
ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ʰᵉᵃʳ‧ ᴴᵉ ˡᵉᶠᵗ⸴ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵃˢᵗ'ˢ ᶜˡᵉᵃʳ ᵃⁿᵈ
ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵍᵒⁿᵉ⸴ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ ᴴᵉ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ
ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵃˢ ʷᵉˡˡ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵃʳˢʰ ᵇᵃⁿᵍⁱⁿᵍ ⁿᵒⁱˢᵉ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵍᵒᵗ ʰᵘʳᵗ‧
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵖᵒʷᵉʳᵉᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉʸ ˢᵃʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁱⁿ 
ʰⁱˢ ᵘⁿʳᵉˢᵖᵒⁿˢⁱᵛᵉ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵉ‧ "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ⸴ ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈⁱˢᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵒᶜᵏˢ ᴹʳ‧
ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵖᵘᵗ?" "ʸᵉˢ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ʳᵃⁿ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ "ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵇᵉ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧‧"
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵉᵛᵉⁿᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵍᵃⁱⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢⁿᵉˢˢ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱˢ 
ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵇʸ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴴᵉʸ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ; ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ
ˢᵃᶠᵉ ⁿᵒʷ‧‧" ᴺᵒᵗ ᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢⁱᵗ ᵘᵖʳⁱᵍʰᵗ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵍʳᵉʷ ᶠʳᵘˢᵗʳᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵃˢ
ʰᵉ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵒᵛᵉ‧ "ᵁᵐᵐ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ˢᵃᶠᵉ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ; ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵃ‧‧‧" "ᴵ'ᵛᵉ
ⁿᵒ ᵉⁿᵉʳᵍʸ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʷⁱˡˡ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᶜᵃʳᵉ ᵒᶠ ⁱᵗ‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ
ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗᵉᵈ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ‧ "ᴴᵉ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ʰᵉ‧‧‧" "ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ⁱˢ ᵍᵒⁿᵉ!" 
"ᶠᵒʳ ⁿᵒʷ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ'ˡˡ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧‧‧" "ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉ? ᴴᵉ
ᵈᵉᵃᵈ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗᵃʳᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᶜᵒⁿᶠᵘˢⁱᵒⁿ‧ "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ˢᵘʳᵉ 
ᵒᶠ ⁱᵗ‧" "ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵗᵉˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵐᵉ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵘⁿᵃˡⁱᵛᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵒˢˢ‧‧‧"
"ʸᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ᵃⁿʸ ᵉˣᵖˡᵒˢⁱᵛᵉˢ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ? ᴵ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵈᵉˢᵗʳᵒʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ‧‧‧"
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵈᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵒⁿᵒᵘʳˢ‧ "ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ⁱˢ ⁿᵒ ᵐᵒʳᵉ!" ᔆᵃⁱᵈ
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ⸴ ᵐᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉ ᵃᵗ ʰⁱᵐ‧ 
"ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉˢᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ʷᵉ'ˡˡ ᵘˢᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ
ⁱⁿˢᵗᵉᵃᵈ ᵒᶠ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ; ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵒʳ ʰᵉˡᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᵐᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ‧" "ᴵ ʷᵃⁿᵗ 
ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵉⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵘʳᵉ!" ᔆᵒ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵗᵃʸᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵉᵈ‧
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶠᵉˡˡ ⁱⁿˢᵗᵃⁿᵗˡʸ ᵗᵒ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵖᵃᵗᵗᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ‧
"ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵃ ᵍʳᵉᵃᵗ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ‧ "ᴴᵉ ⁱˢ
ⁱˢⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵉ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵐᵒᵛᵉᵈ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉʳ‧ "ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ⸴ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧" ᴴᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ᵃᶠᶠᵉᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵃˢ ʷᵉˡˡ ᵇᵉ ᶜᵒⁿˢⁱᵈᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵃ ʳᵃʳⁱᵗʸ⸴ ˢᵒ
ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ˢᵖᵉᶜⁱᵃˡ ʷʰᵉⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵉˢ‧ ᴼᶠ ᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃʸ ʰᵃˢ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ
ˢᵗʳᵉˢˢᶠᵘˡ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗⁱʳⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ˢᵒ ᵉˣʰᵃᵘˢᵗⁱᵒⁿ ˢᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ'ᵛᵉ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ʰⁱᵐ
ˡᵉˢˢ ʳᵉˢᵉʳᵛᵉᵈ‧ ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ⸴ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᵈᵒ ᶠᵒʳ‧
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃʷᵒᵏᵉ ᵉᵃʳˡʸ⸴ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵒⁿᵉ‧ ᴴᵉ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ
ᵉᵛᵉⁿᵗˢ ᵒᶠ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵈᵉᵐⁱˢᵉ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ'ᵛᵉ ˡᵒˢᵗ ʰⁱˢ ˡⁱᶠᵉ‧
ᔆᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ˢⁿᵒᵒᶻⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢⁿᵒʳⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ
ᵈⁱˢʳᵘᵖᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ʳᵉˢᵗ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᵘⁿᵏⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍˡʸ
ᶜᵒⁿᵗʳⁱᵇᵘᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᶜᵒⁿˢⁱᵈᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵐᵃˢˢ ᵍᵉⁿᵒᶜⁱᵈᵉ⸴ ᶜᵒᵒᵏⁱⁿᵍ ʷʰᵃᵗ
ᵃᶜᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᶜᵒⁿˢⁱˢᵗᵉᵈ ᵒᶠ ᶻᵒᵒᵖˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ
ᶻᵒᵒᵖˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ‧ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ᑫᵘⁱᵉᵗˡʸ ʷʰⁱᵐᵖᵉʳᵉᵈ‧
"ᵂʰʸ ᵃʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜʳʸⁱⁿᵍ?" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗˡᵉᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ⸴ ʷʰᵒˢᵉ
ˢᵒᶠᵗ ˢᵒᵇᵇⁱⁿᵍ ʷᵒᵏᵉ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴵ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵃʷᶠᵘˡ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃᵗᵗⁱᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃˡˡ
ᵗʰᵉ ᵛⁱᶜᵗⁱᵐˢ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ⸴ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ; ⁱᵗ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠᵃᵘˡᵗ‧‧‧" "ᴵ
ᵏⁿᵒʷ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵃᵛᵉᵈ ᵐᵉ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵐᵉ ᶠᵃᵗᵉ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵒⁿᵉ
ᵒᶠ ᵘˢ ʰᵃᵈ ᵃⁿʸ ᶜᵒⁿᵗʳᵒˡ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ⁱᵗ‧ ᴳⁱᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳˢᵉˡᶠ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᶜʳᵉᵈⁱᵗ⸴ ᵏⁱᵈ!
ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃ ʰᵘᵍ⸴ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿᵗ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃ
ˢᵐⁱˡᵉ⸴ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ˢʰᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ʰᵘᵍ‧

new plankarenbob karentonbob murdercore planktonkin burgercore villaincore mrkrabscore karencore a shoulder to cry on

A JOURNEY TO AUTISM i

(Autistic author)

"I've waited long enough, I 
better go check..." Karen 
says to herself. Sheldon
Plankton, her husband, left 
earlier to attempt
to steal a krabby patty but he
hasn't returned.

Worried, she makes her way to the 
restaurant across the street.

Meanwhile, Mr. Krabs grabbed 
a fry pan and swung it at Plankton.

The sound of metal hitting flesh
echoed through the restaurant,
and Plankton crumpled to the ground.

Mr. Krabs, his eyes bulging with
triumph, looked down at the tiny,
unconscious form of his arch-nemesis.
"Gotcha, ya tiny troublemaker!" he
cackled, waving the fry pan above
his head like a trophy. The Krabby
Patty recipe remained safe, but 
Plankton's not. Karen heard the thud
from the hit and went in.

Her heart skipped a beat as she
saw Plankton sprawled out on the
floor, unmoving. She rushed over.

"Plankton!" Karen gasped, her voice
trembling with fear as she knelt beside
his tiny frame. He was out cold. 
She gently touched his
arm, hoping for a response, but there
was none. The fry pan lay a few
inches from his crumpled body, a silent
testament to the battle that had just
taken place.

The restaurant's usual
chaos was replaced with a tense
silence that seemed to thicken the air.
Mr. Krabs, still clutching the pan,
looked at Karen with a mix of pride
and wariness. His victory over Plankton
was clear, but he knew that this wasn't
the end of the feud between them.

Karen's eyes filled with tears as she
picked up her husband, cradling his
tiny body in her palm. His antennas
were limp, and his single eye was
closed. She clutched him tightly,
desperately.

"Wake up, Plankton," she whispered, her 
voice filled with urgency as she lightly 
shook. But Plankton remained 
unresponsive, his tiny body as lifeless 
as the seaweed that clung to the ocean 
floor. A cold fear gripped Karen's heart, 
turning her blood to ice. She had seen 
her husband in many predicaments, but 
never like this.

Tears streamed down her cheeks as 
she gently cradled him, his normally 
active form now still and heavy in 
her hand. The Krabby Patty recipe was 
the last thing on her mind; all she could 
think about was Plankton and the 
love they shared. The warmth of his 
body was fading, and with it, her 
hope.

"I'm sorry," Mr. Krabs said. 
"This is just business."

Karen's gaze snapped up, anger 
replacing fear. "This isn't just 
business, it's personal!" she exclaimed, 
her voice echoing through the restaurant. 
"You can't keep doing this to him!" 
Mr. Krabs took a step back, his 
claws clutching the fry pan tighter. 
"I didn't mean for it to go this far," 
he mumbled, his proud stance wavering.

Ignoring his words, Karen rushed 
to the door, cradling Plankton in 
her hand. She had to get him to the 
hospital. The local doctor was known 
to help all creatures, regardless of 
their intentions. The Bikini Bottom 
Hospital was the only 
place she could think of.

The emergency room was a 
flurry of activity, with fish and 
crustaceans of all shapes and sizes 
waiting for their turn. The 
bright, sterile lights reflected off 
the polished floors, and the smell of 
disinfectant stung her nostrils as she 
raced in. She didn't care about the 
stares or the whispers that followed 
them; all she cared about was 
getting Plankton the help he needed.

The receptionist, a sluggish sea star,
barely looked up from her crossword puzzle.
"Name?" she drawled.
"Plankton," Karen replied, her voice 
shaking with urgency. "He's been 
attacked."
The sea star's eyes widened, and she 
dropped her pencil. "Oh my!" 
she exclaimed before hitting a 
large, red button that read "Emergency." 
Immediately, the doors to the back 
swung open, and a team of medical 
professionals rushed out.

The doctor, a stern-looking 
octopus named Dr. Manowar, took 
Plankton from Karen's trembling hand.
"What happened?" he asks, tentacles
moving swiftly to check for 
vitals.
"Mr. Krabs...he hit him with a 
fry pan," Karen managed to say 
between sobs.

The doctor's expression softened,
his tentacles moving more gently.
"Bring him to room three, we'll take
care of him," he instructed the 
nurse, a concerned look crossing his 
face as he examined the unconscious 
Plankton.

Karen followed closely, her 
heart racing as the medical team 
whisked Plankton away into the 
depths of the hospital. The stark 
white walls and the beeping of 
machines filled her with dread, 
but she held onto the hope that 
Dr. Manowar could save him.

The doctor's tentacles 
worked swiftly, hooking up monitors
and administering a series of tests. 
Karen watched, her own breaths 
synchronizing with the rhythmic beeps.

The hospital room was small, 
the walls lined with various medical
instruments. 
The sterile smell was overpowering, 
but she focused on Plankton, willing 
his tiny body to stir. Dr. Manowar 
muttered under his breath, his 
expression a mask of concentration.


"Karen," he said, turning to face her, 
his tentacles stilled. "I need to run some 
more tests, but it doesn't look good. 
Your husband has a severe concussion 
and potential internal damage."
Her heart dropped, and she felt like the 
ocean had swallowed her whole. 
"What...what can you do?" she asked, 
desperation clinging to every word.

The doctor's expression remained 
steady, his eyes never leaving hers. 
"We'll do everything we can. But 
you should prepare for the worst."

Karen felt a wave of nausea wash 
over her. She couldn't lose 
Plankton. He was her partner in 
crime, her confidant, her soulmate.
"No," she 
whispered, her voice barely audible. 
"You can't give up on him."

The doctor nodded gravely. "I understand 
how you feel, but we must be realistic. 
Let's give him some time."

The nurse led Karen to a small 
waiting area outside the room, 
where she slumped into a chair. 
The clock on the wall ticked away 
the minutes, each second feeling like an 
eternity. The muffled sounds of the 
hospital - the beeping machines, the 
rush of footsteps, the hushed whispers - 
only served to amplify the deafening 
silence in her heart.

"Your husband is a 
miracle. The tests came back, and 
his injuries are less severe than 
we initially thought."

Karen's eyes widened in disbelief, 
then flooded with relief. "What does 
that mean?"

Dr. Manowar's tentacles unfurled 
as he spoke. "It means we can treat 
his injuries, but he'll need to rest 
for some time. However, during 
our examination, we noticed some 
unusual patterns in his behavior 
and brain activity."

Karen felt a sudden knot in her 
stomach. "What do you mean?"

"It seems that during the impact, 
Plankton's brain has undergone a 
significant change. He's showing 
symptoms consistent with a condition 
known as acquired Autism." Dr. Manowar 
explained, his tentacles folding 
into a comforting gesture.

Karen felt the world spin around her. 
"Autism?" she repeated, her voice 
barely above a whisper. "What does 
that mean for him?"

Dr. Manowar sighed, his tentacles 
waving gently. "It means his 
interactions and responses to his 
environment may be different now. 
It's permanently irreversible but you
can help by creating a calm environment."

Karen nodded, trying to digest 
the information. "What can I do?"
Her voice was small, trembling. 
The doctor's eyes softened. "Give him 
space, patience, and support. It'll be 
a journey of learning for both of you."

The doctor's words hung in the 
air like a fog, thick and impenetrable. 
Karen felt a weight settle in her 
chest, heavier than any she had 
ever known. The thought of 
Plankton being different, of not 
knowing how to communicate with 
the person she loved most, was 
almost too much to bear. But she 
swallowed her fear and nodded, 
determined to do whatever it took 
to help him.

"Thank you, Dr. Manowar," she 
whispered, her voice hoarse with 
emotion. "We'll get through this."
The doctor nodded solemnly before 
excusing himself to attend to other 
patients. Karen was left alone with 
her thoughts, the beeping of the 
machines the only company.

She took Plankton's hand in hers, 
feeling the coolness of his skin 
against her own. "Plankton," she 
whispered, her voice shaking. "You're 
going to be okay." She wasn't sure if 
he could hear her, but she needed 
to say it. To believe it. To feel the 
words in the air between them.

"I know you can't understand me 
right now," she continued, her voice 
barely above the steady beep of 
the monitors. "But I'm here. And 
I'll always be here for you."
Her eyes searched the room for 
anything that might bring comfort, 
but all she found was the cold 
reality of hospital life.

"When you wake up," she whispered, 
squeezing his hand slightly, "things 
might be different. But that's 
okay. We'll figure it out together."
The words sounded hollow in the 
small, sterile room, but she hoped 
they would reach him somehow.

As the hours passed, Karen's mind 
raced with questions. How would 
this change their lives? Could they 
still scheme together? Would he 
even remember their love for 
each other? She pushed the thoughts 
aside, focusing instead on the gentle 
rise and fall of his chest, a sign that 
he was still fighting.

Suddenly, Plankton's single eye 
flitted open, looking around the 
room with a dazed expression. 
"Karen?" he croaked, his voice weak 
and unsteady.

"Plankton!"
she exclaimed, her voice a mix of 
relief and hope. He was awake! 
"I'm here, my love."

new a journey to autism headinjuryposting autismcore plaren i

A JOURNEY TO AUTISM ii

(Autistic author)

His eye took a moment to focus 
on her, and when it did, she saw a 
flicker of confusion, followed by 
a glimmer of recognition. "Karen?" 
he repeated, his voice still faint.

"Yes, it's me, 
Plankton. You're ok."

But his gaze remained distant, 
his focus unsteady. "Where...where 
are we?"
"We're at the hospital, sweetheart," 
Karen said softly, stroking his antenna. 
"You had an accident."

The confusion in Plankton's eye grew, 
and he tried to sit up, but a wave of 
dizziness forced him back down. "What 
kind of accident?" His voice was 
still weak, but there was an urgency 
to his words that hadn't been there 
before.

Karen took a deep breath, her 
grip on his hand tightening. "Mr. 
Krabs...he hit you with a fry pan."
The words tasted bitter 
but she had to tell him the 
truth. Plankton's eye widened 
slightly, and she watched as the 
puzzle pieces of the situation 
slowly clicked into place in his 
mind.

"Krabby Patty," he murmured, 
his voice distant.
"Yes, Plankton, you were trying to 
get the recipe again," Karen 
whispered, aching at 
the memory. "But it's over now. 
You need to rest."

His eye searched hers, and 
for a moment, she thought she saw a 
flicker of his old self, the cunning 
and ambitious man she had married. 
But it was gone as quickly as it 
appeared, replaced by a vacant 
stare.
"Don't... don't remember,"
he mumbled, his antennas drooping.
This wasn't the 
Plankton she knew, the one who 
schemed with a glint in his eye 
and a plan in his pocket.
"It's ok, Plankton," she 
soothed, her voice trembling.
She took a deep breath, 
trying to compose herself. "Do you 
remember me?"

Plankton's gaze remained 
steady for a moment, and then he 
nodded slowly. "Karen," he said, 
his voice a hoarse whisper. But 
the spark of recognition 
was tinged with confusion, as if 
he wasn't quite sure how he knew her.

Karen's felt like 
breaking into a million tiny pieces. 
But she knew she had to stay 
strong. For Plankton. For them. 
"You don't remember what happened, 
do you?" she asked gently. "What else
do you remember?"

Plankton's antennas twitched 
slightly, his eye searching hers. 
"Don't know," he admitted, 
his voice barely above a whisper. 
Karen's chest tightened as she 
held back a sob. "It's ok," 
she reassured him, her voice 
shaky.

"Do you remember your name?" 
she asked, her voice hopeful.
He blinked slowly, his gaze 
fading in and out of focus, his brow 
furrowing as he concentrated. 
"Sheldon... Plankton?"
The sound of his voice saying 
his own name brought a small 
smile to Karen's face. "Yes, that's 
right," she said, her voice filled 
with relief.

"Do you remember where we live?"
she continued, her tone gentle.
Plankton's eye searched the 
ceiling of the hospital room, as if 
the answer was written there. 
"The Chum Bucket," he murmured, 
his voice unsure. Karen nodded, 
encouraged by his response.
"Good, good," she said, smiling 
weakly. "What about our friends?"

Again, the confusion clouded his 
gaze. "Friends?" he repeated, 
his voice tentative. "SpongeBob, 
Sandy...?"
"Yes," Karen said, her voice 
soft. "Do you remember them?"

Plankton's expression grew more 
distressed, his antennas drooping.
"Square...SpongeBob. And a 
squirrel, yes?" He paused, trying 
to piece together the fragmented 
memories.

Karen nodded, brimming 
with unshed tears. "Yes, SpongeBob 
SquarePants and Sandy Cheeks. They're 
friends."

Plankton's antennas twitched as he 
processed the information, his brow 
furrowing with the effort. "Friends," 
he repeated, the word sounding 
foreign. Karen could see 
the gears turning in his tiny head, 
his brain desperately trying to 
make connections to his past.

"Do you remember anything about 
your life before the accident?" Karen 
asked, her voice trembling with 
anticipation.

Plankton's eye searched hers, 
uncertain. "Life...before?"
Her heart sank. "You know, our 
adventures, our home, our love?"

He stared at her, his expression 
unreadable. "Love?" The word was 
barely a whisper.

"Yes, Plankton," she said, her 
voice cracking. "We love each other. 
We've been married for a long time, 
and we've had so many adventures 
together." She paused, willing 
the words to resonate with him, to 
ignite a spark of memory. "Do you 
remember any of that?"

Plankton's gaze remained 
vacant for a moment before he 
nodded slightly. "Married," he murmured, 
as if tasting the word for the first 
time. "To Karen." His antennas lifted 
slightly, a glimmer of something 
familiar flickering in his eye.
"Karen Plankton computer wife."
"Yes, Plankton," Karen said, her 
voice thick with emotion.
"Does that mean something to you?"
she asked, her heart in her throat.

He nodded slowly, his antennas 
waving slightly. "Computer wife,"
he murmured again, his voice 
gaining a hint of warmth. "Karen."

Karen felt a flicker of hope. 
"Yes, Plankton, I'm your 
wife." She leaned closer, her voice 
gentle. "Do you remember anything
about us?"

Plankton's antennas twitched as he 
thought. "Wife," he said slowly, 
his voice a faint echo of the man 
she knew. "Wife...Karen. Married
July 31, 1999."

That was their 
wedding day, a date they had 
celebrated every year since. "Yes," she 
whispered, her voice choking. "We
got married on July 31, 1999."

The hospital room felt thick with 
silence as she waited for his next 
words. Plankton's eye searched 
the room, his antennas twitching 
as he tried to piece together the 
shards of his past.

"Plankton, can you tell me about 
yourself?" Karen asked, her voice 
gentle. "What do you like to do?"

Plankton's antennas twitched as he 
thought. "Invent," he said, his voice 
still weak but with a hint of pride. 
"Science?"
The words came out as a question, 
as if he wasn't quite sure of his 
own identity.

"Yes," Karen said, her voice 
brightening slightly. "You're a 
genius inventor. You've made so 
many wonderful things." She 
paused, hoping to see some spark of 
recognition in his eye. "Do you 
remember any of your inventions?"

Plankton's antennas waved in 
the air, as if searching for the 
memories that remained elusive. 
"Inventions," he murmured, his 
single eye searching the ceiling. 
"Gadgets...machines."
"That's right," Karen encouraged, 
squeezing his hand. "You've created 
so many amazing machines. Can you 
describe one of them?"

He blinked, his antennas 
stilling for a moment. "Chum...Chum 
Dispenser 3000," he said, his voice 
picking up a bit. "It makes...makes 
food for fishies."
Karen's smile grew despite the 
pain. The Chum 
Dispenser 3000 was one of 
his earlier inventions, a 
failed attempt to lure customers 
to their restaurant, but it was a 
testament to his ingenuity. 
"That's wonderful, Plankton," she 
said, her voice thick with emotion.
"How about something more 
recent?" she prompted, eager to 
see how much of their shared 
history remained with him.

Plankton's antennas twitched as 
his brain worked overtime. "Um... the 
Incredibubble," he said, his voice 
picking up speed as he talked. "It's a 
bubble that can shrink things down to 
microscopic size."

Karen felt a jolt of excitement. 
"That's right!" she exclaimed, 
squeezing his hand. "You used it to 
get to find a secret plan."

Plankton's gaze remained 
distant, but there was a hint of 
curiosity in his eye. "Computer... 
plan?"
"Yes," Karen said, her voice 
shaking. "We've had so many 
adventures together, Plankton. We've 
faced so much together."

He nodded, his antennas 
twitching slightly. "Together," he 
repeated, as if testing the word 
on his tongue.

"Do you remember any of 
those adventures?" Karen 
asked, her voice trembling.
"Adventures?" Plankton's eye 
flickered, and she could almost see 
the wheels turning in his mind.
"With Karen... wife?"

"Yes, with me. We've 
traveled the ocean, faced so 
many challenges together."

The doctor came in. "You can go
home now," he said.

Karen nodded, never 
leaving Plankton's face. She had 
spoken to the doctor about his 
condition, about the autism, but 
she still wasn't sure how to 
process it all. How would their 
life change now?

"Come on, Plankton," she said, 
helping him sit up gently. "Let's 
get you home."

She buckles him into his side of the car, 
his newfound passivity making the 
usual struggle unnecessary. The 
engine of the tiny vehicle roars to 
life, and Karen guides them out of the 
hospital parking lot. 

The ride back to the Chum 
Bucket is quiet, the only sound 
being the hum of the car's engine 
and the occasional splash from 
the waves outside. Karen keeps 
glancing at Plankton, his antennas 
listless as he stares out the 
window. His mind seems to be 
somewhere else, lost in a world of 
his own making.

When they arrive, she helps 
Plankton out of the car and 
supports him as they make their 
way to the door. The neon sign 
flickers in the gloom, casting 
erratic shadows across the 
sand. The once bustling 
environment now feels eerie and 
desolate. Karen's mind is racing 
with thoughts of how to make 
this place feel like home again for 
Plankton.

new a journey to autism plaren memorycore ii

A JOURNEY TO AUTISM iv

(Autistic author)

"Let's play again," Plankton 
says, his voice eager. Sponge 
Bob nods, his smile 
genuine. "Ok, Plankton
pick a board game."

Karen watches as Sponge 
Bob sorts through the 
disarray of their game 
collection, his spongy 
fingers touching each box 
before finally settling on 
a card game.

"Go Fish!" Sponge Bob 
exclaims, holding up the 
battered cards. Plankton's 
face lights up at the 
familiar phrase, his antennas 
waggling with excitement. 
"Fish, fish, fish," he 
repeats, his voice echoing 
the words.

The two sit cross-legged on 
the floor, the cards spread 
out in front of them. Plankton's 
hands tremble slightly as he 
picks up his cards, but his 
concentration is intense. 
"Fish," he whispers, holding 
his hand out to Sponge Bob.
Sponge Bob nods, understanding 
the game despite Plankton's 
simplified request.

"Go Fish," he responds, 
placing a card into Plankton's 
outstretched palm. Plankton's 
eye brightens, and he repeats 
the action, placing a card 
into Sponge Bob's hand. "Fish," 
he says again, his voice 
slightly more confident.
"Plankton you gotta take a card
from the pile.."
Sponge Bob starts to explain,
but Plankton's antennas shoot 
up, and he interrupts. "Fish 
from the pile," he repeats, 
his voice eager. He reaches for 
the deck and draws a card, 
his eye never leaving 
Sponge Bob's.

Sponge Bob nods. 
"That's right, Plankton," he 
says, his voice gentle. "Go Fish."

Plankton repeats the phrase, 
his antennas bobbing with each 
word. "Go Fish," he murmurs, 
his eye scanning the cards.

Sponge Bob nods, a gentle 
smile playing on his lips. 
"Good job, Plankton," he 
encourages. "Your turn to ask 
for a card."

Plankton's antennas wiggle as he 
thinks, his eye darting to 
his hand. "Sponge Bob," he says, 
his voice a mix of excitement 
and focus. "Got any...?" He 
pauses, his brain searching 
for the right word. "Got any...?"

"Got any fish?" Sponge Bob 
prompts, his smile never 
wavering.
"Fish," Plankton repeats, 
his antennas bobbing. "Got any 
fish?"

Sponge Bob nods, 
understanding dawning. 
"Do you have any twos?"

Plankton's antennas 
twitch in excitement. "Two," 
he echoes, his voice 
triumphant. "Do you have any 
twos?"

Sponge Bob's smile falters 
slightly as he nods, looking 
at his own cards. He's not sure 
how to proceed. He 
decides to keep the game 
simple. "I don't have any twos," 
he says. "Now it's your turn 
to Go Fish."

Plankton nods, his 
concentration unbroken. He 
scans his cards again. "Got any 
fish?" he asks, his voice 
determined.

Sponge Bob's smile widens, 
his eyes sparkling with 
understanding. "No fish 
here," he says, placing a card 
face down. "Go Fish."

Plankton's antennas 
twitch rapidly as he 
processes the new 
information, his brain 
working to keep up with 
the game's flow. "Go Fish," 
he repeats, his voice 
gaining confidence with 
each exchange.

Sponge Bob's eyes 
widen slightly but 
he nods along, playing 
his part. "Okay, Plankton," 
he says, placing a card 
on the pile. "Your turn."

Plankton's antennas 
wobble as he considers 
his next move. "Got any 
fish?" he asks again, his 
voice a mix of excitement 
and challenge.
Sponge Bob's smile 
becomes a bit forced. 
"Nope," he says, 
his voice still cheerful. 
"Go Fish."

Plankton's eye dart 
to the cards in his 
hand, then back to 
Sponge Bob. His antennas 
wave erratically as he tries 
to formulate his next 
question. "Got any...?"

Sponge Bob waits 
patiently, his heart 
aching for his friend. 
He's never seen Plankton like 
this before, for SpongeBob
doesn't know about the accident
nor the diagnosis.
"Got any fish?" Plankton's 
words echo in the 
silence of the room. 
Sponge Bob's confusion 
mounts as he looks into 
his friend's eye, searching 
for a clue to what's 
going on.
"No, Plankton," Sponge 
Bob says, his voice 
strained. "I don't have any 
fish." Plankton's antennas 
drop slightly, his 
expression one of 
disappointment.
"Go Fish," he murmurs, 
his gaze drifting to the 
card pile.
Sponge Bob's heart 
aches as he watches 
his friend, trying to 
understand this new, 
strange behavior. "Do you 
want to play something 
else?" he asks, hoping to 
distract Plankton from his 
obsession with the game.
But Plankton's antennas 
spring back to life. "More 
fish," he insists, his voice 
almost a command. Sponge 
Bob nods, his mind racing 
to comprehend what's 
happening. He knows 
Plankton's mind is sharp, so 
why the repetition?

"Got any fish?" Plankton 
asks again, his voice 
growing more urgent.

Sponge Bob's smile falters.
He's never seen Plankton act 
this way before. The urgency 
in Plankton's voice, the 
repetition of words, it's all so 
strange and disconcerting. "I don't 
understand," he says, his voice 
small and unsure. "What's going 
on with you?"
Plankton's antennas quiver 
slightly at Sponge Bob's 
question, but his eye 
remains fixed on the cards. 
"I don't understand," he says, 
voice soft but firm. "What's
going on with you."
Sponge Bob's smile falters,
his eyes searching Plankton's 
face for answers. "It's just a 
game, Plankton," he says, 
his voice filled with 
concern. "You don't have to 
keep asking for fish."

This isn't the Plankton he 
knows, the cunning and 
scheming arch-nemesis who 
always has a plan up his 
sleeve. This is someone 
else entirely, someone 
lost and confused.
But Plankton doesn't 
seem to hear him. "Fish," he 
whispers, his antennas 
twitching in time with 
his words. "Got any fish?"
Sponge Bob feels a knot 
form in his stomach. Is
Plankton trying to annoy him?

"Plankton, are you ok?" 
he asks gently, his voice 
filled with concern.
Plankton's antennas stop 
twitching for a moment, 
his gaze meeting Sponge 
Bob's.
"Plankton are you ok," 
he echoes, his 
eye searching Sponge 
Bob's for a clue. "Fish."
Sponge Bob's brow furrows 
deeper, his confusion 
growing.
"You don't have to keep 
asking for fish, Plankton," he 
says again.
But Plankton's mind is 
stuck on the pattern, his 
voice insistent. "Fish," he 
repeats.

Sponge Bob's now getting irritated. 
The echoing of his words, the intense 
stare, and the persistent demand 
for "fish" are unlike anything he's 
ever seen.
"Plankton, please," he says, 
his voice tight with frustration. 
"I don't have any fish. Let's play 
a different game."
But Plankton's antennas 
only wiggle more rapidly. 
"Fish," he insists. "Got any fish?"
Sponge Bob's patience is 
wearing thin, his cheery 
demeanor slipping away. 
"I said no!" he snaps, 
his voice a little too loud.

Plankton recoils at the 
sudden change in tone, 
his antennas drooping. 
"Fish?" he whispers, his 
voice filled with uncertainty.

Sponge Bob's eyes widen 
with regret at his 
outburst. "I'm sorry," he 
says quickly, his voice 
softening. "I didn't mean 
to yell. But Plankton, I 
don't have any more fish!"

Plankton's antennas 
sag, and his eye 
becomes unfocused. "No 
fish," he murmurs, his 
voice barely above a 
whisper.
Sponge Bob's never seen 
Plankton like this, his 
behavior so repetitive 
and unresponsive to 
his words. It was as 
if the game had become 
the center of Plankton's 
entire world, and Sponge 
Bob's refusal to play 
along had shattered it.

"I'm sorry, Plankton," 
Sponge Bob says, his voice 
trembling with frustration. 
"I just don't understand 
why you're so obsessed 
with fish."
Plankton looks up, his 
eye meeting Sponge 
Bob's, a hint of 
hurt flickering across 
his expression. "Fish," he 
says again, his voice 
smaller this time. "Need fish."

Sponge Bob sighs, 
his hands going to 
his face. "Ok," he says, 
his voice muffled. "Let's 
just finish this game." 

new a journey to autism gamefic iv

A JOURNEY TO AUTISM vi

(Autistic author)

Sponge Bob's heart 
swells with compassion. 
"It's ok, Plankton," he 
says, his voice gentle. "We 
don't have to play anymore."

Plankton's antennas 
drop, and he nods slowly. 
"No fish," he repeats, 
his voice a sigh of 
relief.

Sponge Bob's hand 
freezes in mid-air, 
his eyes searching 
Plankton's face for 
any sign of anger or 
disappointment. But all 
he sees is a glimmer of 
understanding in his 
friend's eye.

"Thank Sponge 
Bob for being patient."
Plankton says to him.

Sponge Bob nods, his 
eyes still filled with 
concern. "I'll be patient, 
Plankton," he promises. "Can
I ask how you hit your head?"

Plankton's antennas 
lift slightly. "Pan," he 
murmurs, his voice 
barely above a whisper. 
"Fry pan, Mr. Krabs. Only
Karen and SpongeBob know."

Sponge Bob's eyes 
widen with shock. "What?!"
he exclaims. "Mr. Krabs 
hurt you?"

Plankton nods, his antennas 
still low. "Pan," he repeats, 
his voice shaking. "Pan," he 
says again, his voice 
softer. "Krabs hit on head."
Sponge Bob's anger 
towards Mr. Krabs is 
immediate and intense. 
"I can't believe he'd do 
that to you," he says, 
his voice low and 
teary.

"Mr. Krabs did to protect
the krabby patty." 
Karen interjects quickly, 
sensing the tension. 
"He doesn't know how
badly he hurt Plankton."

Sponge Bob's eyes narrow, 
his thoughts racing. He can't
believe Mr. Krabs could 
do something like that, even 
in the heat of the moment.

"I'll talk to Mr. Krabs," 
he says firmly, his voice 
laced with determination. 
"He needs to know what..."

"No!"

The sharpness of Plankton's 
voice cuts through the 
air like a knife, his 
antennas shooting up in 
alarm. "Mr. Krabs no," he 
says, his eye wide with fear. 
"No tell."

Sponge Bob's anger 
fades slightly, replaced 
by confusion. "Why not?" 
he asks, his voice 
gentle. "He needs to know 
so he can understand.."

Plankton's antennas 
quiver anxiously. "Krabs 
not know," he whispers, his 
eye pleading with Sponge 
Bob. "Safe here."

Sponge Bob's 
confusion deepens. "But 
Plankton, if Mr. Krabs 
doesn't know, how will he 
make it up to you?"
Plankton's antennas 
droop, his eye darting 
back and forth between 
Karen and Sponge Bob. "No 
make up," he murmurs. "Just 
no satisfaction for Krabs."
Sponge Bob's mind 
spins with the implications. 
He knows Mr. Krabs 
would never hurt 
anyone that much 
intentionally, even Plankton;
but the thought of his 
boss not knowing the 
extent of his actions 
troubles him.
"I won't tell him," 
Sponge Bob says, his voice 
soft with reassurance.
But of course, Mr. Krabs
comes in. "What in the
name of Neptune are
ye doing? I gave ye the
day off yesterday!"
"The Krusty Krab is closed on
Sunday, and it's Sunday today."
SpongeBob reminds his boss.
"Oh, right." Mr. Krabs looks
at Plankton and his eyes narrow.
"What's going on here?" he asks,
suspicion heavy in his voice.
Plankton's antennas droop even
lower, and he looks down at the
floor.
Plankton speaks first. "Go 
fish," he whispers, his 
eye darting up to meet 
Mr. Krabs'. Sponge Bob steps in 
quickly, trying to cover 
for his friend. "We were 
just playing a game," he 
says, forcing a smile.
Mr. Krabs eyes them 
both skeptically.
"Well, I hope it wasn't 
about stealing me secret 
formular," he says, his 
claws tapping 
nervously.
"No, Mr. Krabs," Sponge 
Bob says quickly, "just a 
friendly game."
Plankton's antennas 
twitch slightly at the 
mention of the Krabby 
Patty formula, but he 
remains silent.
Mr. Krabs' eyes 
narrow further.
"What's wrong with 
you, Plankton?" he 
asks, his voice filled 
with concern and a 
touch of irritation.
"You're acting strangely
quiet even for you."
Plankton's antennas 
quiver.
Sponge Bob's heart 
paces. He doesn't want 
to betray Plankton's trust.
"It's nothing," Plankton 
says, his voice 
forced. "Just a little 
game, Krabs wanna play."
"Fine I'll play, but I got my
eye on ye, Plankton."
Mr. Krabs says, his tone 
still suspicious as he 
sits down to join them. 
Sponge Bob's eyes dart to 
Karen, who gives a 
nod of understanding. 
They'll keep the secret and
hope Mr. Krabs doesn't figure
it out.

"Let's play Uno!" Sponge
Bob says, getting out the new
card game, dealing the cards.
Plankton's antennas 
perk up at the mention 
of a new game, and he 
eagerly takes his cards. 
Mr. Krabs grumbles but 
plays along, eyeing Plankton 
carefully.
Then, it happens.
Mr. Krabs slaps a card 
down on the pile and 
excitedly yells, "Uno!"
Plankton's antennas shoot 
straight up, and his eye 
widen with sensory 
overload.
Sponge Bob's concerned, 
but Mr. Krabs 
is too busy gloating to 
notice. "Yee-haw!" he 
crows. "I win again!"
Plankton's antennas 
quiver as he tries to 
process the sudden 
loudness and change in 
the atmosphere. 
Mr. Krabs looks at him, 
his expression puzzled.
"What's the matter, 
Plankton?" he asks, 
his voice laced with 
disdain. "Lost your 
competitive spirit?"
Sponge Bob's eyes widen.
"Plankton's just 
excited, Mr. Krabs," he 
says quickly. "Isn't that right, 
Plankton?"
Plankton's antennas 
wave erratically, and 
his voice is a mix of 
fear and confusion. 
"Yes, Krabs," he stammers, 
his eye darting around 
the room. "Uno. Fish. Yes."
Mr. Krabs looks at him 
oddly but shrugs it off, 
his attention already 
returning to the game. 
"Alright, let's keep playing," 
he says, dealing out 
more cards.
But Plankton's mind is elsewhere, 
his antennas twitching with 
the effort to keep up.
"Fish," he murmurs to 
himself, trying to find 
a familiar 
word. His hands 
shake as he holds 
his cards, the 
world around him a 
cacophony of sensory 
overload.
Sponge Bob notices 
Plankton's distress and 
quickly changes the 
topic. "Hey, Mr. Krabs, 
have you ever played 
Chess?"
Mr. Krabs' eyes 
light up. "Chess? The 
game of kings and 
conquers!" he exclaims. 
"I'd love a round!"
SpongeBob gets
the chess game.

The chess pieces are set 
up, and Mr. Krabs 
begins to play, his 
claws clacking against 
the board as he moves 
his pieces. Plankton 
watches, his antennas 
still, his eye 
focused.
"Your move, Plankton," 
Mr. Krabs says, his 
claws tapping the 
edge of the board 
impatiently.

But Plankton doesn't 
move. He just sits there, 
staring at the 
chessboard, his cards 
forgotten in his hand. 
"What's with you?" 
Mr. Krabs asks, 
his voice filled with 
exasperation. "You're 
taking forever!"

Sponge Bob's heart 
skips a beat. He knows 
he can't let Mr. Krabs 
see how much Plankton's 
been affected by the 
accident. "It's ok 
Mr. Krabs," he says 
quickly. "Plankton's just 
thinking of his next 
move."

Mr. Krabs grumbles but 
doesn't push the issue. 
He's too focused on 
his own strategy, his 
claws moving pieces with 
calculated precision.
But Plankton remains 
frozen, his gaze 
unwavering on the 
board. His antennas 
twitch slightly, a 
sign of his racing 
thoughts.

After several moments of 
silence, Mr. Krabs 
finally snaps. "Plankton,
it's your turn!" he says, 
his patience wearing 
thin.

Plankton's antennas 
twitch, and his eye 
flits to the board. 
"Fish?" he asks, his 
voice unsure.
Mr. Krabs stares at 
Plankton, his eyes 
narrowing. "What do 
fish have to do with 
chess?" he asks, 
confusion etched 
deeply on his face.

Sponge Bob's heart 
sinks as he sees the 
puzzlement in Mr. 
Krabs' eyes. He 
quickly jumps in. "Oh, 
Plankton was just 
thinking out loud," he 
says, trying to 
lighten the mood.

Mr. Krabs grunts, 
but his suspicion 
doesn't fade. "You've 
always been a weird 
little fellow, Plankton, but 
this is something else," 
he says, his tone a mix 
of curiosity and 
exasperation.

Sponge Bob's heart 
thumps in his chest 
as he tries to 
diverge the conversation. 
"Why don't we talk 
about something else?" 
he suggests, his eyes 
darting back to the 
chessboard.

Mr. Krabs' gaze 
remains on Plankton, 
his eyes narrowed. 
But Plankton's antennas 
remain still, his 
expression vacant.
"Fish," he murmurs, 
his voice distant.

Mr. Krabs' patience 
thins to a thread. 
"Fish?" he repeats, his 
confusion palpable. 
"What's going on with 
you, Plankton?"

Plankton's antennas 
wobble, his eye
still fixated on the 
board. "Fish," he says 
again, his voice 
uncertain.

Mr. Krabs leans 
forward, his eyes 
studying Plankton 
closely. "You okay, 
tiny fry?" he asks, 
hinting concern 
despite the 
sarcasm.

Plankton's antennas 
quiver slightly. "Fish," 
he says, his voice 
barely above a 
whisper. Sponge Bob's 
heart clenches at the 
word, understanding 
now that it's not just 
a game for Plankton; it's 
his way of trying to 
make sense of the 
world around him.

Mr. Krabs, however, 
simply sighs and shakes 
his head. "You always 
have to make everything 
so complicated," he 
mumbles, his voice 
tired. "Why can't you just 
play the game like 
everyone else?" He yells
tipping the board over to
where the chess pieces
fall to the ground by Plankton.

Plankton's antennas 
shiver at the sound, and 
his eye dart to the 
upset board, his 
expression one of deep 
distress. "No fish," he 
whispers, his voice 
breaking.
Mr. Krabs' eyes widen, 
his suspicion growing. 
"What's going on with 
you?" he asks again.

"Fish, fish, fish!" 

new a journey to autism gamefic vi

A JOURNEY TO AUTISM vii

(Autistic author)

He starts to rock back 
and forth, his 
single eye squeezed shut 
as he tries to cope with 
the sudden change in his 
environment.
Mr. Krabs' confusion 
deepens, his claws 
scratching his head in 
bemusement. "What's 
gotten into you, Plankton?" 
he says.
But Plankton can't 
stop. His rocking 
intensifies, his 
whispered mantra 
becoming more 
desperate. "Fish, fish, 
fish," he repeats, his 
voice rising slightly 
with each iteration.
Mr. Krabs stares at 
Plankton, his confusion
turning. 
"Plankton, you ok?"
he asks.
But Plankton is lost 
in his own world, his 
stimming a way to 
self-regulate. His antennas 
wave back and forth in 
a soothing rhythm, his 
body rocking slightly as 
he murmurs "fish, fish, 
fish."
Sponge Bob's heart 
aches as he watches 
his friend, his own 
hands clenching into 
fists at his side. He 
understands now that 
Plankton's behavior isn't 
a game, it's a coping 
mechanism, a way to 
navigate through the 
chaos in his head.
"Plankton, it's ok," 
Sponge Bob says 
soothingly, approaching 
his friend. He gently 
picks up one of the 
fallen chess pieces, a 
knight, and holds it 
out to him. "Do you 
want to play again?"
Plankton's antennas 
cease their frantic 
motion, his eye 
focusing on the knight. 
He takes it, his 
fingers tracing the 
intricate carvings, 
his breathing 
steadying. "Fish," he 
says, his voice 
calmer.
Sponge Bob watches 
his friend carefully, 
his heart breaking at 
the sight of his 
distress. He 
understands now that 
Plankton's repetition 
is not just a strange 
behavior, but a 
way to cope with 
his new reality.
Mr. Krabs, still 
confused, watches as 
Plankton's  
tracing the lines of 
the chessboard. "What 
are ye doing?" he 
asks, his voice 
annoyed.
Sponge Bob's eyes 
meet Plankton's, and 
he sees the 
desperation in his 
friend's eye. "Mr. Krabs, 
Plankton's just... trying 
to remember how to 
play," he lies gently.

Mr. Krabs grumbles but 
doesn't argue. Sponge 
Bob takes this 
moment to sit next 
to Plankton, placing 
his hand on his 
shoulder. "It's ok," he 
whispers. "We'll play 
again when you're 
ready."

Plankton's antennas 
twitch, his eye
dilating slightly as 
he nods. He clutches 
the knight tightly, 
his thumb stroking 
its smooth surface. 
It's a familiar 
comfort, something 
from before the accident, 
before the world 
became a confusing 
cacophony of sounds 
and sights.

As the moments 
pass, Plankton's gaze 
remains fixed on the 
chessboard, the 
pattern of the squares 
providing a 
comforting visual 
stimulation. Sponge Bob 
notices the subtle 
change in his friend's 
demeanor, the tension 
easing from his 
tiny body.

"Fish," Plankton 
murmurs again, but this 
time with less urgency. 
He carefully sets 
the knight back 
down on the board, 
his hand hovering 
above it. Sponge 
Bob's heart swells 
with affection, and 
he knows that 
despite the confusion 
and fear in Plankton's 
eye, his friend is 
trying.

Mr. Krabs, however, is 
far from convinced, his 
eyes narrowing. "If 
this is how you're going to 
be, I'm not playing," he 
declares, crossing his arms 
over his chest.
But Plankton's antennas 
perk up slightly, his 
interest piqued by the 
challenge. He picks up 
the knight again, his 
thumb caressing the piece. 
"Fish," he whispers, 
his gaze flicking to 
Sponge Bob and then 
back to the board. It's a 
plea.
Sponge Bob nods, his 
face a picture of solemn 
reassurance. "It's ok," 
he repeats. "Just..."

"What's wrong 
with you, Plankton?" Mr. 
Krabs exclaims.

Plankton's antennas 
droop, and he looks 
down at his cards again. 
He doesn't know how to 
explain his condition to 
Mr. Krabs, who's always 
so dismissive of him. 

He feels a pang of 
desperation,
racing to find a way 
to bridge 
understanding.
Then, it hits him.
With trembling 
hands, Plankton 
mimics Mr. Krabs' 
crossed arms, his 
voice a poor imitation. 
"What's wrong 
with you, Plankton," he 
repeats firmly.
Mr. Krabs' eyes 
bulge with surprise. 
"What's this now?" he 
mutters, giving way to 
amusement. He chuckles 
deeply, his claws 
unfolding from his 
chest.

Sponge Bob 
understands Plankton. 
"Mr. Krabs," he says 
quickly, trying to 
intercept the situation. 
"Plankton's..."
But Mr. Krabs waves 
his hand dismissively. 
"I know, I know," he says, 
his voice filled with 
mockery. "Just playing 
his little games."

Plankton doesn't want to 
be laughed at, especially 
not by Mr. Krabs. With 
determined effort, he 
mimics Mr. Krabs. 
"I know I know," he says 
again, his tone 
mimicking Mr. Krabs'. 
"Just playing his little
games!"
Mr. Krabs' laughter 
fades, his gaze 
sharp. "What
now, Plankton?" he 
demands, his voice 
hard.

Plankton's antennas quiver 
with determination as he 
picks up Mr. Krabs' 
mannerisms. "I know, I know," 
he repeats, his eye fixed on 
Mr. Krabs. "Just playing his 
little games!"

Mr. Krabs' expression 
sours to 
irritation. "What's your 
game, Plankton?" he snaps.

"Game," he 
repeats, his voice a 
mirror of Mr. Krabs'. "Game, 
game Mr. Krabs."

Mr. Krabs' eyes 
narrow, his 
confusion shifting 
to annoyance. "You're 
not making sense," 
he says, his voice 
sharp.

But Plankton 
doesn't stop. "Game, 
game Mr. Krabs," he 
persists, his antennas 
waving frantically.

Sponge Bob's heart 
squeezes. He 
knows Plankton's not 
trying to annoy; he's 
desperately trying to 
convey something, but 
his brain's wiring isn't 
cooperating. Plankton's repetition 
has turned into a 
mantra, a plea for 
understanding that only 
Mr. Krabs seems to 
ignore.

Mr. Krabs' patience 
snaps. "Enough!" he 
shouts, slamming his 
claws on the table. 
"What do you want 
from me, Plankton?"

Plankton's antennas 
flatten, his eye
filling with tears.

Sponge Bob jumps 
up, his own voice 
shaky. "Mr. Krabs, please, 
don't yell," he begs. 
"It's just a game."

Mr. Krabs' face 
twists in anger. "This isn't a 
game, this is your usual 
scheme to drive me 
crazy!"

"No, Mr. 
Krabs," he says.

new a journey to autism gamefic vii

THE LIFE OF UNITY v
(Autistic author)

Sponge Bob wraps around 
Plankton's quivering body, 
his eyes filled with compassion. 
"It's ok, buddy," he says soothingly. 
"Kevin didn't know. He's just not 
used to... well, you know."

But Plankton's antennae quiver 
with a mix of anger and sadness. 
"Kevin," he murmurs, his one eye 
brimming with unshed tears. 
"Kevin hurt Plankton."

Sponge Bob nods, wrapping around 
Plankton in a gentle embrace. "I know
buddy," he says soothingly. "But Kevin's 
just a sea cucumber. He didn't understand."

Plankton's antennae quiver with sadness, his 
monotone voice barely audible. "But jellyfish," 
he murmurs, his one eye slowly closing. 
"Jellyfish never hurt Plankton."

Sponge Bob nods, stroking 
Plankton's antennae gently.

"It's ok," he whispers, his 
voice filled with warmth. 
"You're safe now."

Sponge Bob's stroke Plankton's 
antennae, his touch as 
soft as a feather brushing. 
Plankton's quivering slows, a 
distant echo of the pain that once 
consumed him. His 
eye closes, his body relaxes, and 
the tension dissipates.
As Plankton's breathing evens out 
and his antennae stop 
quivering, Sponge Bob realizes 
that his friend has finally 
relaxed enough to fall asleep.

The yellow sponge looks down at 
the tiny plankton in his arms.

Sponge Bob's gaze is soft as he 
takes in Plankton's peaceful sleeping form. 
Plankton's antennae, no longer 
quivering with anger, lie still 
against his head. His one eye is now 
closed, his mouth slightly 
agape in the unguarded ease of slumber. 

He looks around the jellyfish fields, the 
serene scene a stark contrast to the 
emotional storm that has just passed. 
The jellyfish float around them, oblivious 
to the drama, their tentacles trailing lazily 
in the water.

Sponge Bob sighs, his tightening around 
Plankton's small form. He knows that this 
incident with Kevin won't be the last time 
his friend faces misunderstanding or cruelty. 
Plankton's new reality is tough
but he's determined to help him navigate it.

Gently, he cradles Plankton and starts the 
journey back to the Chum Bucket, the place 
where Plankton's heart lies despite his recent 
troubles. The walk is quiet, the only sounds 
the distant hum of the jellyfish and the 
occasional splish-splash of the water. Sponge 
Bob's thoughts are with his friend, wondering 
how he can help him feel less alone in the vast 
sea of confusion and pain.

As they enter the Chum bucket, Karen's 
electronic eyes light up with curiosity. 
She notices Plankton's asleep and 
Sponge Bob's solemn expression. 
"What happened?" she asks, her 
digital voice filled with concern.

Sponge Bob sighs, still 
gently supporting Plankton. 
"A jellyfishing champion 
named Kevin was making fun 
of Plankton," he explains, his 
voice tinged with sadness. 
"It upset him because of his condition."

Karen's robotic arms cross over her 
chest, her digital eyes widening. "His 
neurodisability?" she asks, her curiosity piqued.

Sponge Bob nods, still wrapped around 
the sleeping Plankton. "Yes," he says, his 
voice gentle. "Kevin didn't know. He said 
some things that really hurt Plankton's feelings."

Karen's digital brow furrows, her LED lights 
dimming slightly. "That's unfortunate," she 
murmurs, her circuits processing the situation. 
"Tell me what he said."

Sponge Bob recounts the conversation around 
Plankton protectively as he speaks. "Kevin called 
Plankton 'stupid' and said jellyfish were dumb," he 
says, his voice heavy with emotion. "It really got to him."

Karen's LED lights flicker with understanding. "I see," 
she murmurs, her robotic voice soothing. "It's not 
uncommon for those who are unaware of 
neurodiversity to make hurtful comments."

Sponge Bob nods. "Yeah," he says, his voice thick with 
emotion. "But it really hit Plankton hard. He's already 
feeling so lost with his new diagnosis."

Karen's LED lights dim slightly, her digital expression 
reflecting empathy. "It must have been quite the ordeal," 
she says, her voice a soothing hum. "I can see how that 
would be difficult for him."

Sponge Bob nods, his tentacles still wrapped around Plankton. "
He's not the same," he whispers. "But I think he's trying."

Karen's digital eyes narrow, her circuits whirring 
as she processes the information. "Tell me 
everything," she says, her voice a gentle purr 
of concern. "I want to understand what happened 
to my Plankton."

Sponge Bob takes a deep breath. "Kevin was 
making fun of Plankton," he starts, his voice 
filled with anger at the thought of his friend's 
pain. "He didn't know about the accident."

Karen's eyes widen, her digital pupils dilating with 
concern as Plankton himself starts to stir, his 
antennae quivering in his sleep as if in response 
to the conversation.

"It's okay, Plankton," Sponge Bob murmurs stroking 
his friend's antennae gently. "You're safe."

Plankton stirs in his sleep, his antennae quivering 
slightly as he groans. Karen's eyes soften, her 
robotic arms reaching out tentatively. "Let me take him," 
she says, her voice a gentle hum. "I'll make sure he's comfortable."

Sponge Bob nods, unfurling as he gently transfers 
Plankton to Karen's outstretched arms. She holds 
him with surprising tenderness, cradling him against 
her cold, metallic body. "Thank you," she murmurs, her 
digital eyes never leaving Plankton's face.

As she carries him to his bed, Sponge Bob follows, his 
thoughts racing with the weight of the situation. He 
can't help but feel a mix of anger and sadness at Kevin's 
callous words and Plankton's pain.

"I'm sorry, Plankton," he whispers, brushing the plankton's antennae.

Plankton's one eye opens slowly, his antennae 
still quivering from the echoes of the painful 
conversation. "Karen?" he murmurs, his 
monotone voice thick with sleep.

Karen's LED lights blink in response, her robotic 
arms adjusting his pillow with gentle precision. 
"You're safe," she assures him, her digital eyes 
softening. "You're home."

Plankton's antennae quiver with confusion. "Home?" 
he murmurs, his one eye opening wider as he takes 
in the surroundings. "Where's jellyfish?"

Karen's LED lights flicker gently. "You're in the 
Chum Bucket, Plankton," she says, her robotic 
voice a soothing purr. "You're safe." Karen hands 
him his box of organized jellyfish figurines.

Plankton takes the box, his one eye blinking rapidly 
as he looks around the room. The familiarity of his 
bed and his beloved jellyfish figurines brings a 
small measure of comfort, but the memory of Kevin's 
cruel words still stings. 

Sponge Bob sits by Plankton in the bed, looking at the 
different mini figures of jellyfish Plankton assorted.

"Jellyfish," Plankton murmurs, his antennae still 
quivering slightly. He takes one out, a small 
translucent figurine with a smiling face. "This one's 
Aurelia aurita," he says, his monotone voice slipping 
into the rhythm of technical jargon. "It's a moon jellyfish. 
They have a lifespan of approximately one year."

Sponge Bob nods, reaching out to touch the delicate model. 
"They're beautiful," he says, his voice filled with wonder. 

Plankton's antennae quiver slightly with pride, shifting to a 
gentle lecture tone. "Yes," he murmurs, holding up another. 
"This one is a Cyanea capillata, also known as the lion's mane jellyfish. 
It can grow up to 2.5 meters wide with tentacles over 30 meters long. 
Quite the predator."

Sponge Bob's eyes widen with amazement. "Wow," he says, his voice 
filled with awe. "They're so different from each other."

Plankton nods, his antennae quivering slightly. 

new the life of unity jellyfishcore v

A JOURNEY TO AUTISM ix

(Autistic author)


The silence in the room
was suffocating, the 
echo of Mr. Krabs' 
footsteps the only 
sound as he retreated 
to his home, his 
heart feeling heavier 
than his treasure chest.

Sponge Bob's heart torn 
between pity and 
frustration. He looked 
at Plankton, 
his friend's gaze 
still locked on the 
chessboard, his 
body a portrait of 
rejection.

"Plankton," he 
whispered, his voice 
full of pain.
But Plankton didn't 
move, his antennas 
twitching slightly.

Sponge Bob felt a 
lump form in his 
throat, his eyes 
brimming with tears. 
He didn't know what to 
do, what to say, to 
make things right. 
He glanced at Karen, 
her lights dimming 
slightly with sadness.

"I'll leave you two 
to talk." With a nod to 
Sponge Bob, she left 
the room, leaving them 
alone in the 
stifling silence.

Sponge Bob approached 
Plankton cautiously, 
his heart pounding.

"What can I do?"
he asked, his voice 
barely a whisper.

Plankton's antennas 
twitched slightly, but 
he didn't look up. 
"Nothing," he murmured, 
his voice flat. "Cannot 
change."

Sponge Bob's eyes 
welled with tears.
"I mean right now, I
can do what you want
me to," he pleaded. 
"You're my best friend, 
Plankton."

Plankton's antennas 
lifted, his single 
eye meeting Sponge 
Bob's gaze.

"We can talk, we can play
a game, we can watch some
thing..."

Plankton's antennas 
remained still, his 
expression unreadable.
"Watch," he said finally, 
his voice devoid of 
enthusiasm.

Sponge Bob nodded, 
his heart heavy with 
disappointment. He knew 
his friend needed 
space, and he would give 
it to him.

The screen flickered 
to life. Sponge 
Bob felt a pang of 
despair, his hand hovering 
over the remote. 
"Is this okay?" he 
asked, his voice 
trembling.

Plankton nodded, his 
gaze unfocused. "Okay," 
he murmured.

Sponge Bob 
selected a nature 
documentary, knowing 
Plankton. They 
sat in silence as the 
soothing sounds of the 
ocean filled the room, 
the TV's blue light 
washing over them. Plankton's 
body relaxed slightly, 
his antennas still as he 
watched. 
Sponge Bob felt a 
tiny spark of hope when
Plankton scoots up next
to him.

The documentary 
played on, the narrator's 
soothing voice detailing 
the lives of jellyfish.
Sponge Bob watched 
Plankton from the 
corner of his eye, 
his heart aching at the 
sight of his friend's 
vacant gaze. 
He reached over and 
gently placed his hand 
on Plankton's shoulder, 
his touch tentative.

Plankton didn't flinch, 
his eye never leaving 
the screen. Sponge Bob
swallowed the lump in 
his throat and whispered,
"I'm here for you."

Plankton's antenna 
twitched slightly, a 
barely perceptible 
acknowledgment. The 
silence stretched on, the 
only sound the rhythmic 
pulse of the jellyfish 
through the speakers.

Sponge Bob's hand 
remained on Plankton's 
shoulder, his thumb 
making small, comforting 
circles.

As the 
documentary droned on, 
Plankton's antennas 
gradually lost their 
rigidity, drooping 
slightly with each 
passing moment.

The rhythmic 
pulse of the jellyfish 
on the screen seemed to 
lull him into a state 
of quiet contemplation. 
His gaze grew unfocused,
his eyelid fluttered once,
then twice, before 
finally settling shut.
Plankton's tiny frame relaxed into 
SpongeBob's side, breathing 
evening out. His hand 
remained on Plankton's 
shoulder, his thumb 
continuing to make 
small circles as his 
friend slipped into 
slumber.

When SpongeBob turned off
the tv, he noticed Plankton's 
head drooped to the side
with a soft snore, 
his body gone slack.
Plankton was asleep, 
his chest rising and falling
in a gentle rhythm.

The yellow sponge felt a 
wave of relief wash over 
him as he realized that 
his friend had finally 
found some peace.
He carefully scooted Plankton 
closer.
He knew Plankton needed 
his rest, especially with 
his brain trying to 
adjust to this new 
reality.

Karen came back in to see 
Plankton's antennas limp 
and Sponge Bob's hand on 
his shoulder. She nodded 
gently at the sponge, who 
looked up and sighed.

"It's 
ok to let him rest. He's 
been through a lot." She says.

Sponge Bob nods, his 
grip on Plankton's 
shoulder tightening 
slightly. "I know. I 
just want to help," 
he replies, his voice 
barely audible over 
Plankton's soft snores.

Karen's lights flicker 
gently. "You are helping 
by being here, Sponge 
Bob. Just give him 
time and space to 
adjust."

Sponge Bob nods, 
his eyes never leaving 
Plankton's sleeping 
face. "I'll do 
anything for him."

Karen's light blips. 
"I know you will. But 
for now, let's get him 
to his bed."

Sponge Bob nods, 
carefully scooping up 
Plankton, cradling him 
like a fragile shell. He 
carries him to the 
bedroom. 
He lays him down, 
tucking the blanket 
under his chin with 
extra care.

Plankton's snores 
soften into a gentle 
purr, his antennas 
twitching slightly 
in his 
sleep.

Sponge Bob pulls 
up a chair beside 
the bed, his 
eyes never leaving 
his friend's face. He 
feels a heavy 
responsibility, a 
desire to be there 
for Plankton in ways 
he's never had to before.

As the minutes 
tick by, Sponge Bob 
begins to feel the 
weight of the day's 
events. His eyes 
grow heavy, his 
body swaying with 
exhaustion. Despite 
his resolve, he 
can't keep his 
lids open any longer.

With a yawn, he 
collapses into the 
chair beside 
Plankton's bed, his 
head lolling to the 
side. His eyes 
close.

Plankton opens his eye to 
find Sponge Bob 
asleep next to him.

Plankton's gaze lingers 
on the sponge, his 
expression unreadable. 
He moves his antennas 
slightly, testing the 
boundaries of his 
new reality. The 
weight of Mr. Krabs' 
apology and his own 
words hang heavy on him.

With a deep sigh, 
he knew that 
his relationship with 
Mr. Krabs was 
irrevocably changed, 
but he hadn't expected 
the sadness that 
accompanied the 
realization.

He watched as 
Sponge Bob's chest 
lifted and fell in a 
steady rhythm, 
his grip on the 
blanket tight.

A strange warmth 
spread through 
Plankton's 
heart, something 
he hadn't felt in 
a long time. 
Sponge Bob had 
always been his 
friend, even when he 
was at his worst.

But this...
This was different.
This was someone 
sticking by him, not 
because they had to, 
but because they 
wanted to.

The warmth grew, 
spreading through 
Plankton like a gentle 
current. It was 
unfamiliar, but not 
unpleasant. He had 
felt it before, with 
Karen. Yet this was 
a different kind of warmth.
This was friendship, 
pure and untainted by 
the greed that usually 
consumed him before...

He studied Sponge 
Bob's peaceful 
face, his mind 
racing. This sponge, 
his enemy's best 
worker, had shown 
more kindness and 
understanding in the 
past few hours than 
anyone else in his life,
other than Karen. 
And for what? A 
chance at the Krabby 
formula? No, 
for him. For Plankton.

The warmth grew 
stronger, 
pushing out the 
coldness that 
usually dominated 
his thoughts. He 
felt a strange 
urge to reciprocate, 
to be... nicer.

Sponge Bob stirred, 
his eyes fluttering 
open. "Plankton?"
he mumbles, his 
voice thick with sleep.

Plankton's antennas 
lift slightly, his 
single eye focusing 
on the yellow 
form beside him.

"Yes, Sponge Bob," he 
replies, his voice 
gentler than before.

Sponge Bob sits up 
with a start. "How
long have you been up?"
he asks, his eyes 
searching Plankton's 
face for any sign 
of pain or distress.

Plankton's antennas 
twitch slightly. "Not 
long," he murmurs, 
his gaze lingering 
on Sponge Bob.

Sponge Bob's 
expression is a 
mixture of relief 
and concern. "Do you 
want to talk?" he 
asks, his voice 
gentle.

Plankton's antennas 
wave slightly, a 
tiny nod of his 
head. "Talk," he 
echoes, his voice 
soft.

Sponge Bob takes a 
deep breath, trying 
to form the words 
he desperately 
wants to say. "I 
just... I want you to 
know that I'm here 
for you, Plankton," he 
says, his voice 
shaking.

Plankton's antennas 
wave slightly, and 
his eye narrows. "Here 
for Plankton," he echoes, 
his voice flat.

Sponge Bob's eyes 
fill with tears. "Yes, 
Plankton," he whispers. 
"Always."

Plankton's antennas 
twitch again, the 
word "always" echoing 
in his mind. "Always," 
he murmurs. 

new a journey to autism plankbobs ix

AUTISM IN THE PLANKTON FAMILY vii


(Autistic author)



The movie ended with the
snails crossing the finish line.
Sponge Bob reached for the remote,
fingers hovering over the
button. "Would you like to watch
something else?" he asks, voice
soft. 

Sponge Bob noticed his
friend Plankton's gentle
snores. He had fallen asleep,
his body slack. "Plankton?"
he whispered. 
Sponge Bob leaned closer,
his heart skipping a beat as he
noticed Plankton's gentle
snores. Plankton didn't stir, his
body slumped slightly curled up.
Sponge Bob's gaze
softened as he realized
he had fallen asleep
likely for the night.

Sponge Bob felt a wave of
relief wash over him, for Plankton
found comfort in their shared
experience.
He gently cradles him.

Karen, watching from the doorway,
smiled softly as she saw Sponge
Bob's gentle care. She knew that
Sponge Bob had always had a
special bond with Plankton, but
now, it seemed that bond had grown
deeper, more meaningful.

He had always been
there for Plankton, through
their many adventures and
misunderstandings. Now, in the
face of Plankton's new reality,
he remained steadfast, offering a
steady hand in the storm of change.

"Let's get him to bed," Karen
whispered, stepping into the room.
Her eyes met Sponge Bob's, her gaze
filled with warmth and thanks.
Together, they carefully lifted
Plankton from the couch, his
body limp with sleep. His antennae
twitched slightly at the sudden
movement, but his snores remained
steady, a testament to his deep sleep.
Sponge Bob walked down the hallway,
his steps light, carrying 
Plankton with ease.

Karen had prepared the bed.
They laid him down, his antennae
flailing briefly before settling
against the pillow. Sponge Bob
tucked the blanket around him,
his movements careful not to
disturb his friend.

Plankton's snores grew quieter as
his body settled into the cool
embrace of the sheets. His antennae
twitched one last time before
going still, his mouth slightly parted.

Sponge Bob and Karen stepped back,
exchanging a look of shared
relief. "He's asleep," Karen
murmured, her voice a soft
caress in the quiet room.

Sponge Bob nodded, his gaze
lingering on Plankton's peaceful
face. "Thanks for today,
Karen," he said, his voice
grateful.

Karen's smile was warm. "Anytime,
Sponge Bob," she replied. "You're
such a good friend to him."

Sponge Bob nodded, his eyes
still on Plankton's sleeping
form. "Always will be," he said.

The next morning, Plankton woke
up, and his antennae
twitched as he registered the
events of the previous day.
He sat up, the blanket sliding
off his body, and looked around.

Sponge Bob stirred from the
armchair, where he had dozed off
watching over him. "Morning,
Plankton," he said, his voice
slightly rough with sleep.

Plankton's antennae quivered as
he looked around, his gaze
falling on Sponge Bob. 

Sponge Bob yawned, stretching his
spongy body, his voice gentle. "You 
fell asleep."

Plankton's antennae twitched as
his eye focused on Sponge Bob,
his brain slowly piecing together
the events of the previous evening.

Sponge Bob's smile was warm. "You
tired out, buddy?" he asked, his
voice gentle.

Plankton nodded slowly, his antennae
twitching slightly. "Tired," he
murmured, his voice still thick with
sleep.

Sponge Bob nodded, understandingly.
"How about we start with a quiet
morning?" he suggested. 

Plankton's antennae quivered
slightly before he nods. "Quiet
morning," he murmured, his voice
agreeable.

Sponge Bob nodded, his
expression filled with concern.
"How about some pancakes?" he offered.
"They're nice and easy on the
stomach."

Plankton's antennae perked up at
the mention of food. "No pancakes,"
he murmured, his voice still
sluggish with sleep.

Sponge Bob's eyes widened. "No
pancakes?" he repeated,
surprise evident in his tone.
"But you love pancakes!"

Plankton's antennae quivered as
he thought, his voice a soft
whisper. "Pancakes... no," he said,
his gaze drifting to the
window where the early morning
sun peeked through the curtains.
The light was gentle, not yet
harsh enough to cause him pain. 
"Toast," he decided, his voice
final.

Sponge Bob nodded, his smile
slightly saddened but respectful
of Plankton's new boundaries. "Okay,
toast it is," he said, standing up
from the chair and heading to
the kitchen.

Karen met SpongeBob. "Good
morning! How's everything?"

Sponge Bob's expression was a
mixture of hope and trepidation.
"Plankton's okay," he said. "He's just
really tired."

Karen nodded, her gaze
following her husband as he
slowly made his way to the kitchen.
"It's going to take some time for
us to figure this out," she said.
"But we'll get there."

Sponge Bob nodded, his eyes
never leaving Plankton's
reclined form. "We will," he said,
his voice firm with resolve.

He returned to the kitchen,
his spongy feet padding softly
against the floor. The room was
bathed in the gentle light of dawn,
the quiet hum of the
refrigerator the only sound. He
pulled out a loaf of bread,
his mind racing with thoughts
of Plankton's new needs.

Sponge Bob carefully sliced
two pieces of toast, placing them
in the toaster with a soft click.

"Morning!" Karen says as Plankton
sits down. She gives him milk, as
she knew it soothes him.

"Stayed up late for movie. Still am
tired. Love Karen and SpongeBob."

The toaster's ding pierced the
silence, and Plankton's antennae
shot straight up, his body
stiffening at the sudden noise.

"Easy, Plankton," Sponge Bob called
from the kitchen, his voice
soothing. "It's just the toast."

"Toast," he murmured. "Toast."

Sponge Bob carefully brought the
toast to the table, placing it
before Plankton. The scent of warm
bread filled the air, mingling with
the comforting aroma of Karen's
brewing coffee. Plankton's antennae
twitched as he took in the sight, his
body visibly relaxing at the
familiar smells.

"Yesterday's crazy, autistic or not. And
you're still getting used to it all."
Karen says as Plankton eats the toast.

Plankton nodded, his antennae
twitching slightly, still exhausted.

The milk Karen had given him was
warm, the perfect temperature to
soothe his still-frazzled nerves. He
brought the cup to his lips, his
hands trembling just a bit.

As the creamy liquid slid down his
throat, Plankton felt a gentle
wash of calm spread through him.
His antennae, which had been
twitching in anticipation of the
morning's noises, grew still.
It usually helps calm him, which is
what it did today.

Sponge Bob sat opposite him,
his eyes filled with concern.
"You okay?" he asked, his voice
soft and gentle.

Plankton nodded, his antennae
drooping as he took another sip of
his milk. "Tired," he murmured.

Karen sat next to him, her hand
resting lightly on his shoulder. "It's
okay," she said, her
voice a gentle reminder of his
new reality.

SpongeBob helped Karen clean
up the kitchen.

Plankton sat in the chair, his
body slumped, his antennae
still. His eye was closed, his
tiny chest rising and falling in
the slow, steady rhythm of
sleep. His head tilted back
and a soft snore escaped
his open mouth.

Karen noticed. The past 
few days had taken a
toll on him, but she knew
that with time and patience,
they would find their new
normal.

"Let's get you to the couch,"
she murmured, her voice
soft. She gently took the
cup from Plankton's hand,
his grip loose with sleep.
Sponge Bob helped her lift
his tiny form from the chair.

Together, they carried him
to the living room, his body
relaxed in their grasp.
They placed him on the couch,
his antennae twitching slightly
as he settled into the pillows.

Sponge Bob tucked the blanket
around Plankton, his eyes
never leaving his friend's
sleeping face. "Rest, Plankton,"
he whispered. "We're here."

Karen nodded, her pixel eyes
misting with emotion. "Thank
you, Sponge Bob," she said. "For
being here."

Sponge Bob's smile was genuine.
"Always, Karen," he said, his
spongy hand giving hers a gentle
squeeze. "Always."

new autism in the plankton family sleepicore vii

ᶠʳᵃᵗᵉʳⁿⁱᶻᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ
⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾
ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ’ˢ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗᵒʷⁿ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉʳ
ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵃˢ ᵗᵒ ᵃⁿᵃˡʸᶻᵉ ᵃ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ
ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʳᵉᵃᶜʰᵉᵈ ᵃ ᶜʳᵒʷᵇᵃʳ⸴ ᵘˢᵉᵈ ᵃˡˡ ʰⁱˢ
ˢᵗʳᵉⁿᵍᵗʰ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇⁱᵍᵍᵉˢᵗ ˢʷⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʷʰᵃᶜᵏ ᵗʰᵉ
ᶜᵒⁿᵗʳᵃᵖᵗⁱᵒⁿ⸴ ᵃⁱᵐᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵖᵖᵃʳᵃᵗᵘˢ ᶠᵒʳᶜᵉᶠᵘˡˡʸ
ᵇᵘᵗ ⁱⁿˢᵗᵉᵃᵈ ᵍᵒᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰⁱᵗ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵉᵃᵈ 
ᵒⁿ ᵃᶜᶜⁱᵈᵉⁿᵗ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʳᵒʷᵇᵃʳ‧
ᴹᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ⁿᵒⁱˢᵉ⸴ ˢᵉⁿˢᵉˢ ᶠᵃᵈⁱⁿᵍ
ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᶜᵒᵐᵖʳᵉʰᵉⁿᵈ⸴ 
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵉᵃᵏˡʸ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ 
ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵃˡˢᵒ ˢˡᵃᵐᵐᵉᵈ
ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿˢᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ᵐᵃᶜʰⁱⁿᵉ
ⁿᵒʷ ᵈᵉᵉᵖˡʸ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵉᵗᵉˡʸ
ᵘⁿᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢ‧  
ᴾᵃⁿⁱᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ
ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵐᵃᶜʰⁱⁿᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵈⁱˢᵖᵒˢᵉ‧ 
"ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵒⁿ! ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗʸ? ᴼ!"
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ'ˢ ⁿᵒʷ 
ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ʷⁱˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵗᵗˡᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵉˡˡⁱⁿᵍ 
ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵈ
ⁿᵒᵗ ᵇᵘᵈᵍᵉ ᵒʳ ʳᵉᵃᶜᵗ ᵃᵗ ᵃˡˡ‧ “ʸᵒᵘ
ʰᵉᵃʳ ᵐᵉ…” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵒᵇˢ‧ 
ᴴᵉ ᵖᵉᵗ ʰᶤᵐ ᵍᵉᶰᵗˡʸˑ 
“ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ’ᵗ ʳᵉᵛⁱᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ⁱᵗ
ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈᵎ ᴴᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ʷᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ‧‧‧”
ᶜᵃʳᵉᶠᵘˡˡʸ ᵗᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ
ʰⁱˢ ᵖⁱⁿᵉᵃᵖᵖˡᵉ ʰᵒᵘˢᵉ˒ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ 
ˢᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵈᵒʷⁿ‧ "ᴵ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵇᵉ
ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᶰᵉ ʷʰᵒ'ˢ ᔆᵉᵐⁱ
ᶜᵒᵐᵃᵗᵒˢᵉˑˑˑ" 
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵇᵉ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵍˡᵃᵈ ⁱᶠ
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʳᵉᵃᶜᵗᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵍʳⁱˡʸ⸴ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ 
ᵏᶰᵉʷ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵃ ʰᵃᶰᵈ ˢʷᵃᵗᵗᵉᵈ
ᵃʷᵃʸ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ‧
ᴱᵛᵉⁿᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʳᵉᵍᵃⁱⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᶜᵒᶰˢᶜᶤᵒᵘˢᶰᵉˢˢ⸴ 
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵇᵃʳᵉˡʸ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵉ ʰᵉ'ˢ ⁱⁿ‧ 
“ᴴʳ…” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ 
ʰᵘᵐᵐᶤᶰᵍ⸴ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉⁿˑ 
“ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ…”  ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ
ᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉ ᵉᶜʰᵒᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ 
ˢᵃʷ ʰᶤᵐ ˢˡᵒʷˡʸ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ‧ “ᵂʰᵃ…”
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵉᵃˢʸ
ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵃʳᵈˡʸ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵃⁱⁿ ᵉˣᶜⁱᵗᵉᵐᵉⁿᵗ‧  “ᴵ 
ʷᵃˢ ˢᵒ ʷᵒʳʳⁱᵉᵈᵎ
ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵇᵉ ʳᶤᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ˒ ᵃˢ ᴵ
ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ᵃ ᶜᵃˡˡˑˑˑ” 
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ˒ ⁿᵒʷ ᵉˣⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵘⁿᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢⁿᵉˢˢ 
ᵇᵘᵗ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ᵇⁱᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵃ ˢᵗᵘᵖᵒʳ 
ᶰᵒᵗ ᵏᶰᵒʷᶤᶰᵍ ᵉˣᵃᶜᵗˡʸ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ ᵃᶰᵈ
ᶠᵉᵉˡᶤᶰᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉᶠᶠᵉᶜᵗˢ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᶤᵗ˒
ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ
ᶜᵃˡˡ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ⸴ ᵃˢ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵉⁿˢᵉˢ 
ᵖᵃⁱⁿ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᶠˡᵒᵒᵈᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵉⁿˢᵉˢ‧ “ᴴᵉ'ˢ 
ʷᵃᵏᶤᶰᵍᵎ” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ
ʰᵃⁿᵍˢ ᵘᵖ‧  “ᵂʰᵉ…
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ; ʷʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ?” 
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃᵘᵍʰᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰ ᶠᵉᵃʳᶤᶰᵍ
ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ'ˢ ʳᵉᵃᶜᵗᶤᵒᶰ‧ "ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ
ᵗᵉˡˡ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵃ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ⁱᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧"
"ᴴᵉʰ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ 
ʷʰᵃᵗ ʰᵉ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳˢ‧
“ᴮᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʰᵒⁿᵉ‧‧‧
ᴵ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ
ᵃ ᵏʳᵃᵇᵇʸ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ‧ ᴸᵃˢᵗ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ
ᴵ ᵏⁿᵉʷ⸴ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵍᵒᵗ
ᵃ ᶜʳᵒʷᵇᵃʳ⸴ ᴵ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ‧ 
ᵘᶰᵗᶤˡ ᴵ ˢᵒᵐᵉ
ʰᵒʷ ᵉᶰᵈᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ʰᵉʳᵉ
ᵃᵗ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᴵ ᵃˢˢᵘᵐᵉ
ⁱˢ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʰᵒᵘˢᵉ…”
“ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵍᵒᵗ
ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʳᵒʷᵇᵃʳ⸴ ⁱᵗ ᵏⁿᵒᶜᵏᵉᵈ ʸᵒᵘʳ
ʰᵉᵃᵈ⸴ ʳᵉⁿᵈᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵉ ᵒᶠ 
ˢᵉⁿˢᵉˡᵉˢˢⁿᵉˢˢ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ʳᵉᵐᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ 
ᵘⁿᵗⁱˡ ᴵ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ʰᵉʳᵉ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵛᵉʳ ᶠʳᵒᵐ
ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ⁿᵒⁿ⁻ᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢ…” “ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ⸴ 
ⁱᵗ’ˢ ᵘⁿᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗ ⁿᵒⁿᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢᵎ”
“ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ᵃⁿʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵈᵒ…” 
“ᵁᵍ⸴ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᶜʳʸ‧” ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ᵗʳʸ ᵗᵒ ʷʳᵃᵖ
ʰⁱˢ ᵃᶜʰⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵃʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ⁱᵗ ʷʰᵉⁿ
ᵃ ᵏⁿᵒᶜᵏ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ‧
“ᴵ’ˡˡ ᵍᵉᵗ ⁱᵗᵎ” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵒᵖᵉⁿˢ
ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ ᵗᵒ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ‧
“ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷˀ” 
ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᑫᵘᵉˢᵗⁱᵒⁿᵉᵈ‧ “ᴵ ʷᵃⁿᵗ 
ᵗᵒ ᵖˡᵃʸ ⁱᵗ ˢᵃᶠᵉ‧” “ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᴵ
ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʰᵒʷ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵈᵉᵃˡ
ᵃˢ ᴵ ʰᵃᵛᵉⁿ’ᵗ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ…” 
“ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ⸴ ᴵ ʷᵒⁿ’ᵗ 
ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵘⁿᵃᵗᵗᵉⁿᵈᵉᵈ‧”
“ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵉᵃˡ ʷⁱᵗʰ
ᵒᵘʳ ᵇᵒˢˢ‧‧‧” “ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ˒
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿˢ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵛᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ; ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ᵗᵉˡˡ 
ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʰᵉ’ˢ 
ʰᵉʳᵉ…” ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ
ᵇᵒᵇ ᵉˣᵖˡᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ‧ ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ˢᵠᵘᶤᵈʷᵃʳᵈ
ˡᵉᶠᵗ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ “ᶠᵉᵉˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿʸ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳˀ”
“ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒᵗᵃˡˡʸ ᶜˡᵉᵃʳ
ᵐⁱⁿᵈᵉᵈ ʸᵉᵗ‧ ᵂᵃⁱᵗ⸴ ʷʰᵒ ᵉˡˢᵉ'ˢ…” “ᴵ
ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵗʳᵃⁱᵍʰᵗ ʰᵉʳᵉ‧
ᴵ’ᵈ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ
ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ’ᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵒ
ᴵ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵉʳᵉ‧ ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ
ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳˢᵉˡᶠ ᵃᵗ ʰᵒᵐᵉᵎ  
ᵂʰᵃᵗ ᵈᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵉᵉˡ
ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒˀ” “ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ˢᵗᵒᵖ ʳᵃᵐᵇˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ…”
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵐᵒʳᵉ 
ᵏⁿᵒᶜᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ 
ᵒᵖᵉⁿˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ ᵗᵒ  
ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ‧ “ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ᴵ’ᵛᵉ ᵃ ˢⁱᵗᵘᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ‧ ʸᵒᵘ 
ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᵐᵉᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉˀ” 
“ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ᵗᵉˡˡ
ᴾⁱⁿᵏʸ ᵃ…” “ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ
ⁱˢ ᵐʸ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ⸴ ᔆᵒ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ 
ᵃˡᵒⁿᵉᵎ” “ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ᴵ ᵃᵐ
ᶜᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃˢ…” “ᴵ
ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ʷᵉ…” “ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ 
ᵃˢᵏ ᴾˡᵃⁿ…” “ᵂʰʸˀ ᴴᵉ’ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ
ᵍᵒ…” “ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ʰᵉ…” “ᑫᵘⁱᵉᵗ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒᵒᶠˢ
ᵃʳᵉ ʷᵒʳˢᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵐʸ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵗʰʳᵒᵇᵇⁱⁿᵍ
ˢᵒ ᵏⁿᵒᶜᵏ ⁱᵗ ᵒᶠᶠᵎ”
ᴮᵒᵗʰ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ 
ᶠⁱⁿᵃˡˡʸ ᵃᶜᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ‧ 
“ᵂᵉ’ˡˡ ˢᵉᵉ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ ᴾᵃᵗ‧‧‧” 
“ᔆᵉᵉ ʸᵃ‧” ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ˡᵉᶠᵗ‧ “ᴴᵘⁿᵍʳʸˀ” 
“ᴳᵘᵉˢˢ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵈⁱⁿⁿᵉʳ…” ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ
ᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵒᵗ ᶠᵒᵒᵈ‧ 
ᔆᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿˡʸ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʰᵒⁿᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ʳⁱⁿᵍⁱⁿᵍ‧ 
“ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵏᵉᵉᵖ ᵉᵃᵗⁱⁿᵍᵎ”
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʰᵒⁿᵉ‧ “ᴱʰ 
ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷˀ ᴵ ʳⁱᵈ ᵒ 
ᵗʰᵉ ᵃⁿᵃˡʸᶻᵉʳ‧‧‧” ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ‧ “ᵀʰᵉ ᴷʳᵘˢᵗʸ
ᴷʳᵃᵇ ⁿᵉᵉᵈˢ ʸᵉᵎ” ᴮᵘᵗ ᔆᵒ ᵈⁱᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧‧
“ᴵ’ᵐ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵃ ᵇⁱᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢʰᵃᵏᵉⁿ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵒ ᵐʸ
ʲᵒᵇ ʷᵉˡˡ ᵇʸᵉᵎ” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ʰᵃⁿᵍˢ ᵘᵖ⸴ 
ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ˡⁱᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᶜᵒⁿᶠˡⁱᶜᵗ ᵒʳ ᵗᵒ ˡⁱᵉ‧ 
 ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠⁱˣᵉᵈ ʷᵃʳᵐ ᵇˡᵃⁿᵏᵉᵗˢ‧
“ᵀʰᵃⁿᵏˢ…”
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃⁱᵈ⸴ ᵘⁿᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ˢʰᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ
ᵃᶠᶠᵉᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ‧ ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ ʰᵉ
ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵈᵒ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒ ᵉˣʰᵃᵘˢᵗᵉᵈ
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ‧‧‧" "ᵂᵉ'ᵛᵉ ʰᵃᵈ ᵃ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵈᵃʸ
ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵉ?" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ⸴ ˢᵗʳᵒᵏⁱⁿᵍ 
ʰⁱˢ ᵃⁿᵗᵉⁿⁿᵃᵉ ˢᵐᵒᵒᵗʰ‧
"ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒ ᵍˡᵃᵈ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵇᵒᵘⁿᶜⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧
ᴾᵉʳʰᵃᵖˢ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵇᵉ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ‧‧‧
ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ?" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ
ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᶻᶻᶻᶻᶻᶻ'ⁱⁿᵍ
ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵃ ˡᵒᵍ‧ ᵀʰᵉⁿ⸴ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ 
ᵃⁿᵈ ʷʰⁱˢᵖᵉʳᵉᵈ "ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ
ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧‧‧" 
 ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ʷᵒᵏᵉ ᵉᵃʳˡʸ ᵗᵒ
ˢᵘⁿʳⁱˢᵉ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵉᵃⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ
ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿˢᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ 
ᴴᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ’ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱᶠ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ’ᵈ
ᵃᵗᵗᵉⁿᵈ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ⸴ ʷᵃⁿᵗⁱⁿᵍ
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ
ʳᵉˢᵘᵐⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴼʳ ᵃᵗ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ ᵗᵒ
ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵍᵉᵗˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ʷᵃˢ
ʷᵃⁿᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵃˡˡ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʰᵉʳ
ʰᵉ ˢⁿᵉᵃᵏˢ ᵗᵒ
ᵈⁱᶠᶠᵉʳᵉⁿᵗ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵃˡˡ‧ 
“ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ…” ᔆʰᵉ
ʷᵃˢ ˢᵘʳᵖʳⁱˢᵉᵈ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵉˣᵖˡᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ
ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʳᵒʷᵇᵃʳ⸴ ʰᵒʷ 
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵏᵒⁿᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵃ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗ‧ 
“ᵀʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵒ
ᵐᵘᶜʰ ˡᵒᵒᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵘᵗᵎ ᴴᵉ
ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵖᵉˢᵗᵉʳ 
ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ⁱᵗ…” “ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ; ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ 
ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ⁱᵗ ⁿᵉᶜᵉˢˢᵃʳʸ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʸᵒᵘ…”
ᴴᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢⁱᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ
ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ᶠᵘˡˡʸ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ‧
 "ʸᵉˢᵗᵉʳᵈᵃʸ'ˢ ᵃ ᵇˡᵘʳ‧‧‧"
"ᴵ ᵇᵉᵗ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧" ᴶᵘˢᵗ
ᵗʰᵉⁿ⸴ ᵃⁿᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵏⁿᵒᶜᵏ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ‧ 
ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧ “ᴵ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᶠᵃˢᵗ
ᵃˢ ᴵ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ‧ ᴵ ᵖˡᵃⁿⁿᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ˡᵉᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ
ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ‧” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ
ᵉˣᵖˡᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ‧ “ᴸᵉᵗ'ˢ ᵍᵒ…”
ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵉᶠᵗ‧

new plankarenbob bobplank spankton plongebob splankton plankbob spongeton fraternization

ᴬʳᵐᵃᵍᵉᵈᵈᵒⁿ pt. 1
⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾
ᴴᵒʷ'ˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ʰᵒˡᵈ ᵘᵖ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠʳʸ
ᶜᵒᵒᵏ ʰᵃˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵃʳᵐ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ᶜᵃˢᵗ? ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃⁿⁿᵒᵗ ᵈᵒ
ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ ᶠˡⁱᵖᵖⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵃ ᶜᵒⁿᵈⁱᵗⁱᵒⁿ! ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᵃ ᵗʳⁱᵖ
ᵗᵒ ᵀᵉˣᵃˢ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵒ ˢʰᵉ ᶜᵃⁿⁿᵒᵗ ᵘˢᵉ ᵃⁿʸ ᵒᶠ ʰᵉʳ ᵖʰʸˢⁱᶜᵃˡ
ᵏⁿᵒʷˡᵉᵈᵍᵉ‧ ᔆᵒ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵘˢⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ 
ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵈᵒᵒʳ‧
"ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ˢᵉᵉ ʷʰᵒ‧‧‧" "ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵍᵒ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ
ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗᵉᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱˢ ᵃʳᵐ
ᵃˡˡ ᵇᵃⁿᵈᵃᵍᵉᵈ‧ "ᴾˡᵉᵃˢᵉ ʰᵉˡᵖ ᵐᵉ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ
ᵘᵖ⸴ ʰᵒᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ʰᵒˢᵖⁱᵗᵃˡⁱᵗʸ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵘʳᵗ?"
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵉᵗ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ˢᵗᵃʸ⸴ ʰⁱˢ ᵖʳⁱᵐᵃʳʸ ʳᵉᵃˢᵒⁿ
ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵏᵉᵉᵖ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵗᵒᵉˢ ⁱᶠ ʰᵉ ᶠⁱⁿᵈˢ ᵒᵘᵗ‧
"ᴵ ᶠⁱᵍᵘʳᵉᵈ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵏⁿᵒʷˡᵉᵈᵍᵉ⸴ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ
ˢᶜⁱᵉⁿᵗⁱˢᵗ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿⁿᵒᵗ ᶜᵘʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵍᵘᵉˢˢ ʸᵒᵘ
ᶜᵃⁿ ᶜʳᵃˢʰ ʰᵉʳᵉ‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ
ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᶜᵃʳᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵍᵃʳʸ ʷʰⁱˡᵉ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵍᵒⁿᵉ‧ "ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᵐʸ
ᵐᵒᵗʰᵉʳᵇᵒᵃʳᵈ ⁱⁿ ˡᵃʷ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ⸴ ᴵ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵗ ʰᵉʳ
ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵃʷᵃʸ!" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃⁱᵈ⸴ ˡᵉᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵖᵒᵗ 
ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵗ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵉ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧ "ᵂᵉˡˡ⸴ ᴵ ᵍᵘᵉˢˢ
ⁱᵗ'ˢ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵘˢ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢⁱᵍʰᵉᵈ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ᵇᵃʳᵏ‧
"ᵂⁱˡˡ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵍᵉᵗ‧‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵉˢⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉ
ᵗᵒ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᴵ ᵃᵐ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᶜᵃʳᵉ! ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ
ʷᵉ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵉᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʳᵉˢᵗᵃᵘʳᵃⁿᵗˢ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ'ᵈ
ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵒⁿ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˡʸ ᵗᵉʳᵐˢ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘ!"
"ᴮᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵃⁿᵈ⸴ ʷᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ᵖᵒˡᵃʳ
ᵒᵖᵖᵒˢⁱᵗᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ'ᵐ ᶠʳᵒʷⁿᵉᵈ ᵘᵖᵒⁿ ᵇʸ
ᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵈᵒⁿᵉ
ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉˡᵖ ʸᵒᵘ⸴ ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ
ᵇᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ⸴ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ʷʰᵃᵗ
ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᵉᵃᶜʰᵒᵗʰᵉʳ! ᵀʰᵉʸ 
ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵒʷᵉ ᵉᵃᶜʰ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ
ᵈᵉᵉᵈˢ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳˢ
ʰᵒʷ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ⁱⁿⁿᵒᶜᵉⁿᵗˡʸ ᵗᵃᵘᵍʰᵗ ʰⁱᵐ
ʰᵒʷ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᶠᵘⁿ⸴ ʰᵒʷ ʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵗʳᵃʸᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏⁱᵈ
ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ⸴ ʸᵉᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉʰᵒʷ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ
ᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃʳᵉˢ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʰⁱᵐ⸴ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ
ᵈᵉˢᵉʳᵛᵉ ⁱᵗ‧‧‧
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉ ʰᵒʷ ᵉᵐᵒᵗⁱᵒⁿᵃˡ ʰᵉ
ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵘⁿᵗⁱˡ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵇᵉⁿᵗ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵃˢ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ
ʷᵉˡˡᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵘˢᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ
ᵃ ˢᶜʰᵒᵒˡ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ᵘⁿᵗⁱˡ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᶠᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ
ᶠᵒᵒᵈ ⁱⁿᵈᵘˢᵗʳʸ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰᵃˢⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵃᵈ ᵃ
ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᶜᵒⁿˢⁱᵈᵉʳ ᵃ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗˢ
ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵉˢᵗ ᵇᵘᵈ⸴ ʸᵉᵗ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵃⁿ ᵃᵐᵒᵉᵇᵃ ᵖᵘᵖᵖʸ; 
ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ᵖʳᵉᵗᵗʸ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵖʳᵒᵍʳᵃᵐᵐᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ‧
ᴴᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵃⁿᵍʳʸ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵐᵉʳᵉ
ᶠʳᵘˢᵗʳᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵐⁱˢᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵒᵒᵈ
ᵒʳ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵃ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ‧ ᴬⁿʸ ᵃⁿᵍᵉʳ
ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ʷᵃˢ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵒᵘᵗ
ᵒᶠ ᵃⁿⁿᵒʸᵃⁿᶜᵉ⸴ ᵒʳ ⁱᶠ ʰᵉ ˢᵃᵇᵒᵗᵃᵍᵉᵈ ᵃ
ᵖˡᵃⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵃ ᵏʳᵃᵇᵇʸ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ‧ ʸᵉᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉ
ʰᵒʷ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᶜᵃʳᵉᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʰⁱᵐ‧
to be cont. Pt. 2

new plankarenbob plangebob spongeton armageddon

JUST A TOUCH x
(Autistic author)


SpongeBob rushes over, his
face a mask of worry. "You okay,
Plankton?" he asks, his voice
filled with genuine concern.
But Plankton can't answer. His
body is rigid, his eye unfocused.

Squidward's tentacle retreats,
his expression a mix of shock
and confusion. "What's going
on?" he asks, his voice tight.

Sponge Bob's eyes are wide
with concern. "Hello?"
Plankton doesn't
even blink, his eye
remains unseeing, his body a statue
to the chaos around him.

Squidward, still holding
the dish, watches with a mix of
fear and confusion. "What's
happening to him?"

Sponge Bob's heart races as he
sees his friend frozen. "Hey,
Plankton," he says. "It's just a party."
But the words fall on deaf
ears—or rather, one deaf eye.

Plankton's antennae remain
still, his body rigid. The room's
chaos has ceased to exist for
him, lost in the vacuum of his
seizure.

Sponge Bob's voice, usually
so boisterous, is now a gentle
whisper. "Plankton?" he says,
his hand hovering over his
friend.

Squidward, his eyes wide,
stammers. "Is he...? Is he
okay, or?"

It's something that
has to run its course,
which of course neither
Squidward nor Sponge
Bob realize.

Squidward's tentacle
shakes Plankton gently,
his voice filled with
concern. "Plankton?" he
repeats, his tone softer
now. Plankton's antennae
remain still, his body a
statue in the bustling
kitchen. The dish clatter
fades to background
noise, the laughter from
the party a distant echo.

Sponge Bob's heart squeezes,
his eyes never leaving
Plankton's unseeing gaze.
He's seen his friend in
tough spots before, but
this... this is something
new, something scary.
He takes a deep breath, his
thumbs tucked into his
pockets as he tries to
think. What do you do?
What helps when someone
you care about is stuck in
this kind of loop or what
ever this is...

Squidward, usually so quick
to snap and complain, is
silent, his tentacles
poised but not moving.
He watches, his eyes flicking
between the unmoving Plankton
and SpongeBob.

The room's cacophony fades
away as the realization hits
them—Plankton's in trouble.
Sponge Bob's smile is gone,
replaced with a furrowed brow
and a quivering bottom lip.

Squidward, still holding the
now forgotten plate, feels a
pang of guilt. He'd seen the
stress in Plankton's antennae,
heard the urgency in his
voice, but had dismissed it.
Now he's not sure what to do.

Sponge Bob's eyes widen,
his spongy body tense with
worry. He's seen Plankton
upset before, but never like
this. "I think we should set him
down," he suggests, his voice
barely a whisper. "On the floor.."

They gently lower Plankton
to the cool tiles, his body
unyielding. Squidward sets the
dish aside, his tentacles
shaking slightly. "What do we do?"
he asks, his voice tight.

Sponge Bob's eyes never leave
Plankton's face, his heart
pounding in his chest. He's seen
his friend in tough spots before,
but this... this is something
else entirely.

Squidward, his tentacles still
shaking, stammers. "What do we do?"
The fear in his voice is palpable.
They both know Plankton isn't okay.

Sponge Bob takes a deep breath,
his eyes never leaving Plankton's
motionless form. "Get Karen. Now."

Squidward nods, his tentacles
moving in a blur as he rushes
to find her. The party's music
thumps in the background, a stark
contrast to the silence of the kitchen
where Plankton sits. Sponge Bob
kneels beside him, his hand hovering
over Plankton's shoulder, unsure of
what to do next. His heart races
as he watches his friend's chest
rise and fall in the rhythm of a silent
symphony only Plankton can hear.

Karen looks up at the sound
of Squidward running in.

"What's wrong?" she asks, her
voice filled with alarm.
Squidward's tentacles flap
wildly. "It's Plankton! He's...
he's just... not moving!"

Karen's eyes widen, and she
rushes into the restaurant,
Squidward's words echoing in
her mind. Plankton sits on
the floor, his body unnaturally
still, his antennae drooping.
Her heart skips a beat as she
sees his vacant gaze. She
recognizes the signs—this is
the second time she's seen
an absence seizure take hold
of him.

She kneels beside Sponge Bob,
whose expression is a mix of
fear and confusion.

"He's having a seizure," Karen
whispers, her voice a calming
breeze in the chaotic kitchen.
Her hand, now gentle and firm,
guides Plankton's head to the
floor. "He'll wake up.
We've got to keep him safe."

Sponge Bob nods, his eyes
wide with concern. He's seen
his friend in tough spots before,
but this... this is something
beyond his usual quirks. Plankton's
tiny body is a stark contrast
to the monstrous fear gripping
his heart.

The kitchen is a blur of
movement around them, but Karen's
calm presence brings a semblance
of order. She takes over,
her movements precise.

"Don't touch him," she says,
her voice a gentle command. "Just
let it run its course."
Squidward nods, his tentacles
still, his eyes on Plankton.
Sponge Bob's face is a mask of
worry, his eyes never leaving
his friend's unresponsive form.

Mr. Krabs' beady eyes narrow,
his voice a gruff whisper.
"What's going on?"

Karen's voice is calm,
but her heart races. "It's okay,"
she says, her hand resting
on Plankton's back. "It's just
a part of his new... condition."

Mr. Krabs' expression
softens, his eyes flicking
from Plankton to Karen. "Is
he going to be okay?"

"Yes," Karen says firmly,
her hand still on Plankton's
back. "It's just a seizure.
They can happen with... his
autism..."

Mr. Krabs' eyes widen, but
his expression quickly morphs
into something more thoughtful.
"I see," he says, his voice
lowered. "I had no idea."

"He got a brain injury,
Mr. Krabs," Karen says.
"Yesterday, in an accident.."

Mr. Krabs nods, his gaze
on Plankton's unmoving form.
"I'm sorry," he says, his voice
genuine. "What happened?"

Karen swallows, her eyes
welling with tears. "They said it's
Acquired Autism. It's like
his brain got... rewired."
Her hand strokes Plankton's back
soothingly. "He's the same, but
different."

Mr. Krabs nods slowly, his
claws clenching. "Well, we'll
make do," he says gruffly. "This
is still the same Plankton who
tried to steal the Krabby Patty
formula, right?"

Karen's eyes flash with a
mix of anger and protectiveness.
"Yes," she says firmly. "But
now he needs our help. And our
understanding. He hasn't mentioned
it once since.."

Her voice trails off as Plankton's
eye flickers.

Slowly, his antennae
unfreeze, twitching slightly.
The world starts to come back into
focus, the colors and sounds
gradually seeping back into his
consciousness. Sponge Bob's hand
is still hovering over him, his
face a canvas of relief and
uncertainty.

"Plankton?" Sponge Bob
whispers, his voice tentative.
Plankton's eye blinks once,
twice, and he looks around,
his gaze landing on Squidward.

Squidward's tentacles are
still, his expression a mix
of fear and confusion. Plankton
slowly sits up, his antennae
twitching as he takes in the scene.
The dish is forgotten, the
need for order lost in the fog
of his seizure.

"Welcome back," Sponge Bob
says, his voice a mix of relief
and anxiety. Plankton's antennae
wave slightly as he looks around,
his gaze settling on the plate
still in Squidward's tentacle.
"It's okay," Karen says gently,
her hand resting on his shoulder.

Plankton's antennae twitch as
his brain reboots, trying to
process the scene before him.
"Dishes," he murmurs, his voice
still flat.

Squidward watches him, his
tentacle hovering over the sink.
"Let me handle this," he says,
his voice apologetic. "You... you just
take it easy."

Plankton nods, his antennae
still. The chaos of the kitchen
fades away as he focuses on
his friend's kindness. "Thank you,"
he whispers, his voice a soft
echo of its former self. "All of you.."

new just a touch neurodisability x

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.

new the tooth of a child wisdomtoothcore wisdomteethcore i

CATCH IN MY CHIP x
(Autistic author)

♡. ᴏᴠᴇʀsᴛɪᴍᴜʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴛʀɪɢɢᴇʀs ..

Plankton's gaze is
unfocused, lost in the
storm. His body is rigid, his
muscles tense like coils
ready to spring. The room
spins, the colors a blur
Karen's fear a tangible
entity in the room.

Her hand on his cheek is a
plea, a gentle reminder that
she's there, that he's not alone.
"Look at me," she whispers, her
voice a soft mantra. "You're safe."
But he doesn't hear her, not
really. He's too lost in the
sensory hurricane that
engulfs him.

Karen races as she
watches the man she loves
drift further away, his mind
trapped in the labyrinth
of his own making. She's
seen this before, the way his
autism can swallow him whole,
leaving only the shell of a man
behind. But this time is
different. This time, there's
Chip, waking up to
his dad's struggle.

Her eyes dart from Plankton's
panicked gaze to their son's
sleepy face, the innocence
in his expression a stark
contrast to the chaos in her
husband's eye. She knows
she must act fast, to
protect them both from
the storm.

With a gentle touch, she
lifts Chip's hand from Plankton's
arm, her movements as soft as
a leaf landing on a pond.
Chip stirs, his eyes fluttering
open to meet hers. The
concern in her gaze is a
question he doesn't understand,
but he accidentally brushes his
dad's shoulder as he sits up..

Plankton's body jerks, his
single eye rolling back in his
head. The room goes dark, the
colors swirling into a void.
The ringing in his ears is
deafening. Karen's hand is a flash,
catching him.

Her arms wrap around him,
supporting his weight as
his body goes limp. Chip's eyes
are wide with fear, his hand
suddenly empty. "Daddy?"
he whispers, the word a
prayer in the quiet.

Karen's eyes never leave
Plankton's face, her hand
checking for a pulse. She
feels the steady throb of
life beneath her fingertips,
relief flooding her veins.

"Daddy?" Chip's voice is a
whisper of fear, his hand
reaching out to touch his 
father's arm, but Karen
stops him.

"Let him be," she says, her
tone firm. "He needs space."
Her eyes are on Plankton,
watching for any sign of
returning consciousness.
The room is a tomb of
silence, the only sound
their mingled breaths.

Chip nods, his eyes wide
with worry. He can see the
fear in his mother's gaze,
feel the tension in the
air. But he trusts her. He
has to. Plankton is his
dad, and she knows him
better than anyone.

Chip watches, his own
breaths shallow with fear.
He opens his mouth to
speak, to ask what's wrong,
but Karen's hand is swift,
silencing his words with a
single finger to her screen.
The gesture is a soft
whisper, a command that
he understands without
explanation.

Plankton's body is limp in
Karen's embrace, his antennas
still quivering with the
aftershocks of his overload.
Her eyes are filled with
determination, her love
for her husband a fiery
beacon in the dark room.
With gentle care, she lowers
his head to the pillow,
his body trembling with
the last vestiges of panic.

Chip's eyes are wide with
uncertainty, his hand
poised in the air. "Is he
okay?" he whispers, his voice
small in the vastness of the
moment. With gentle
firmness, Karen takes Chip's
hand, leading him out of the
room.

"We need to give him some
space," she murmurs, her screen
never leaving Plankton's
form. "He'll come to when he's
ready. This only happens when
his overwhelm gets him dizzy
to the point of passing out,
which in itself has only happened
twice before. It's part of his
autism, Chip."

Chip nods solemnly, his
fear for his dad mingling with
his curiosity about this
new aspect of Plankton he's
never seen. "What can we do?"
he asks, his voice barely audible.

Karen squeezes his hand,
her screen never leaving
Plankton. "For now, we wait.
And when he wakes up, we
make sure to give him time
to recover. No loud noises,
no sudden movements." She
speaks with a calmness
that belies the storm
raging in her own heart.

They sit together on the
edge of the bed, their screens
locked on Plankton.

Karen's grip on Chip's
hand is tight, her knuckles
white. She's seen this before,
but it never gets easier. "Just
wait," she whispers, her voice
shaky. "Just wait."

They sit in silence,
the air thick with unspoken
emotions. The sun peeks
through the blinds, casting
slanted bars of light across
Plankton's unconscious form. Karen
aches as she watches
the man she loves, the man
who's been her rock, reduced to
this trembling shell. But she
knows he's strong. He's survived
worse storms than this.

Minutes tick by, each one
longer than the last. The room
seems to hold its breath,
waiting for Plankton to stir.

And then, slowly, his antennas
cease their trembling. His
eye flickers open, focusing
on the two figures beside
his bed.

The world is still a blur,
his thoughts scattered like
leaves in the wind. But Karen's
face is a beacon, her eyes
a port in the storm. He tries
to speak, his mouth dry as
sandpaper, but only a croak
escapes.

"I'm sorry," he manages, the
words a feeble whisper. His
eye meets Chip's, filled with a
swirl of emotions he can't
quite name. Regret, fear,
love. All fighting for
supremacy.

Chip's grip on Karen's hand
tightens, his own eyes
reflecting the same tumult of
feelings. He opens his mouth,
but no words come out. Instead,
he reaches out with his free
hand when Karen stops him.

"Let him recover," she says,
squeezing his hand reassuringly.
"He needs to process, Chip. Let
me talk to him first." With a nod,
Chip withdraws his hand, his
heart pounding in his chest.

new catch in my chip Chip Plankton II x

https://criticalcurve.tumblr.com/day/2018/02/03/

new plankarenbob planktarendy splankbob only fools rush in

JUST A TOUCH v
(Autistic author)


Hanna's confusion is clear
as she watches Karen crouch
before Plankton, her hand hovering
an inch from his shoulder.
"Plankton, sweetie," Karen says,
her voice a gentle coax. "It's just
me." No indication from Plankton
though.

Hanna's eyes dart from
Karen to Plankton and back,
trying to piece together what
has happened. "What's wrong with
him?" she whispers.

"He's just overwhelmed,"
Karen says, her voice tight with
frustration.

Hanna looks 
from Karen 
to Plankton,
his body rigid.

"What happened?"
she asks again, her voice
laced with concern. Karen
sighs heavily, her eyes
full of pain. "Plankton
has Acquired Autism."

The words hang in
the air like a heavy
cloud, casting a shadow
over the room. Hanna's
face falls, her hand
covering her mouth in shock.

"Oh no," she murmurs,
realizing her mistake. "I didn't know."
Her eyes dart to Plankton,
his body still frozen, his
gaze vacant. "I'm so sorry."
She says, reaching for him
again as Karen's.

Karen's hand shoots out,
stopping her mid-air. "No, don't,"
she says firmly. "He's hypersensitive
now. Sometimes touch can be...
painful."

Hanna's hand retreats, her eyes
widening. "I didn't know," she
whispers, her voice filled with regret.
"I just wanted to be friendly."

Karen's expression softens slightly.
"It's okay," she says, her voice
calming. "You couldn't have
known." But Plankton remains
still, his eye unblinking.

"Plankton," Karen whispers,
her hand reaching for his.
He doesn't flinch this time,
his body still as stone. She
squeezes gently, hoping the
familiar gesture will bring him
back. "You're safe at home."

Hanna watches, her
heart heavy with guilt. She had
no idea her enthusiasm could
have such a profound effect on him.
"What can I do?" she asks,
her voice shaky.

Karen looks up, her eyes
tired. "Just give us some
space," she says. "Let me...
let me help him."

Hanna nods, her own screen
brimming with unshed tears.
"Of course," she murmurs, backing
away.

Plankton remains frozen,
his gaze locked on the floor.
Karen wraps her arms around
his shoulders.

"It's okay, Plankton," she whispers,
her voice soothing. "You're
safe here." She rubs his arm
lightly, the way she's learned
not to cause him discomfort.

He doesn't move, but she
can feel the tension slowly
leaving his body. His antennae
lift slightly.

"You're okay," Karen repeats,
her voice a gentle murmur. "Just
breathe."

Slowly, Plankton's body begins
to relax, his antennae
twitching as he takes in her
words. Hanna watches from
a distance. "I'm sorry," she says,
her voice quieter. "I didn't
know. I didn't mean to..."
Her words trail off, but Karen
simply nods, her eyes not
leaving Plankton's. "It's okay,"
she repeats. "We're still
learning."

Hanna sits on the edge of the
sofa, her eyes never leaving
them. She feels like an intruder,
a bull in a china shop. She
had come to offer support,
but instead, she'd triggered something
deep within him. The room
feels heavy with unspoken words.

"I didn't mean to push him,"
she says, her voice barely a whisper.
"I just didn't know." Karen's grip
on Plankton tightens slightly,
but she doesn't look up. "It's okay,"
she says again, her voice a lifeline
in the quiet. "It's a lot to take in."

Hanna nods, her screen filling
with tears she quickly wipes away.
"But I'll learn," she says, her
determination clear. "I want to be
a good friend to both of you."

Plankton's antennae quiver, a
faint glimmer of recognition
flickering in his eye. Karen
nods.

"Thank you," she murmurs, her voice
barely audible. Hanna watches
as Karen's gentle touch seems to
break through the barriers Plankton
has erected. His body slowly
unfurls from his rigid stance,
his gaze shifting from the floor
to meet Karen's.

"It's okay," Karen repeats,
her voice a balm. "Let's go to
our room. You need to rest."
Plankton nods slightly, allowing
her to guide him away from
the living room.

Hanna watches them go, her heart
aching for her friend. She knows
she's overstayed her welcome,
but she can't bear to leave without
apologizing to Plankton. "I'll go,"
she says, her voice thick.

Karen turns, her screen
swimming with unshed tears.
"Thank you, Hanna," she says,
her voice hoarse.

Hanna nods, her own eyes
shimmering. "Call me if you
need anything," she says, her
voice thick with emotion. She
stands, her legs feeling like
jelly, and makes her way
to the door, her heart
heavy with the weight of
what she's done.

The moment the door clicks shut,
Karen feels the tension in the
room dissipate slightly. Plankton's
body relaxes a fraction, his
eye no longer staring blankly
at the floor. She leads him
to their bedroom, the familiar
surroundings seeming to soothe
his frazzled nerves.

Once inside, she helps him
into bed, the softness of the
covers a stark contrast to the
rigidness of his body. She pulls
the curtains shut, dimming the
lights to reduce the sensory
stimulation. Plankton's antennae
twitch, a sign of his relief.
Karen sits beside him.

"I'm sorry," she whispers,
her voice thick with emotion.
"I didn't know she'd..."

Plankton's gaze meets hers,
his eye less intense now. "It's okay,"
he says, his voice monotone. "Just need...
quiet."

Karen nods, her hand
still resting on his shoulder.
"I'm here," she says. "I'm always here."

new just a touch hannacore v

THE TOOTH OF A CHILD ii

The nurse finished up the
paperwork and handed it to Karen.
"You're all set to go home
once Mr. Plankton is ready.
Just remember, he'll need to take
it easy for a few days. No
solid food, only soft things like
soups and mashed potatoes."

Karen nodded, her gaze
still locked on Plankton's
fascinated expression. "I've got it
covered," she said. Plankton,
seemingly oblivious to the
instructions, was busy poking
his cheeks with his fingers,
his mouth still numb and frozen.

He looked up at her, his
eye twinkling. "Kay... Kahen...
anotha... anotha teeth."
The nurse had left the room,
leaving them in a quiet
solitude punctuated only by
the rhythmic beeping of the
monitors and the occasional
swish of hospital curtains.

Karen couldn't resist the
urge to laugh. "You're
already asking for more?"
she teased. Plankton shrugged, his
expression as goofy as a puppy's.
"Ith... wothless... wifout...
wisdom," he mumbled.

Her amusement grew.
"I'm not sure if that's a compliment
to the teeth or an insult to
me," she said playfully.

Plankton's antennae shot up,
his cheeks flushing a brighter shade
of pink. "Mmph... no, no... gwed...
wisdom..." he insisted, his speech
still slurred. Karen couldn't help but
smile at his earnestness.

"Alright, I'll keep that in mind,"
she said, her voice filled with affectionate
sarcasm. "So, what's the first thing
you want to do when we get home?"

Plankton's antennae twitched with excitement.
"Mmph... mow... wock?" he slurred, his voice
muffled by the anesthesia.

Karen raised an eyebrow, surprised by his sudden
interest in music. "You want to rock?"
she repeated, amusement dancing in her eyes.

Plankton nodded vigorously, his antennae bobbing.
"Mmhmm," he managed, his mouth still
refusing to cooperate. "Wock and wowl."

Karen couldn't help but laugh. "Okay, okay. I'll
make sure to have some rock music ready
for when we get home." Plankton's eye lit up,
his enthusiasm clear despite the numbness.

"Gweat," he murmured, his antennae swaying
to an unheard melody. Karen watched him,
his normally stoic face now a canvas of
comical expressions and muffled sounds. It was
surreal to see him like this, but she
found his vulnerability endearing.

"But first, we need to get you home,"
she said, her voice a gentle reminder
of reality. Plankton nodded, his
eye closing in exhaustion. He leaned
his head back on the pillow, his
snoring resuming its soft crescendo.

The nurse returned to check on them.
"Looks like he's comfortable," she said
with a smile. "You can take him home
whenever you're ready." Karen nodded,
still watching Plankton's peaceful face.

"Mmph... Kahen?" Plankton's eye
opened again, searching for her.
"Ca-- we go now?" he slurred, his voice
laced with hope. Karen couldn't resist the
urge to lean over and kiss his forehead.
"Soon, buddy," she whispered.

He nodded, his antennae waving
sluggishly. His hand found hers again,
his grip firm despite his grogginess.
Karen felt her heart melt at his
determination. "Mmph... I teww you 'notha
tink?" he mumbled, his smile hopeful.

"Sure," she said, leaning closer.

"Wheh, mmmph... the dentist
made every ting awwright, yet
firsh, they saith I woul’ be in
surgery. Bu’ they didn’t even
cuth me openth! They jus’
made every ting go woozy,"
Plankton slurred. "Then youw
face wath theath wight bulb on
top."

Karen couldn't stop herself from
laughing. "What are you talking
about, Plankton?" she asked, her voice
filled with warmth.

He tried to enunciate, his
lips moving awkwardly. "Mmph, Kahen,
the dentist... they... they put me to
sweep wi’out cutting me." His
words were jumbled. Karen's curiosity
piqued, she leaned in closer.

"What do you mean, without cutting you?"
she questioned, her voice filled
with gentle amusement.

Plankton's antennae waved wildly.
"Mmph, they goth me all sleepy and
then I woke up wifout getting cuth!"
he exclaimed, his words still thick.

Karen couldn't contain her laughter.
"They didn't cut you because they already
took your teeth out while you were asleep,"
she explained, her voice a blend of humor
and affection.

Plankton's antennae drooped, his eye
looking disappointed. "Mmph, oh... I wath
expehcting a magith trick." He slumped
back into the pillow.

Karen chuckled, stroking his
hand. "It's like magic, isn't it?"
she said, her voice light. "You
went to sleep with four extra teeth
and woke up with none."

Plankton's antennae shot up again.
"Ma... ma... magic?" he repeated,
his voice filled with wonder.
Karen nodded. "In a way, yes.
They used sleepy medicine so you
wouldn't feel a thing."

He stared at her, his eye wide
with fascination. "Wow, Kahen.
They're wike wizawds!" he exclaimed,
his speech still slurred but his
enthusiasm unmistakable. Karen laughed
again, her heart feeling lighter.

"Mmph, can they make me
fwee too?" Plankton asked,
his voice filled with hope. Karen
shook her head, her smile never
leaving her lips. "Sorry, Plankton.
Only in your dreams."

He pouted, his cheeks puffing
out like a chipmunk's. "Mmph, no fun."
His eye grew heavy again, his body
still feeling the weight of the
anesthesia. Karen stood, gently
squeezing his hand. "Let's get you
up, okay?"

With a groan, Plankton
managed to push himself into
a sitting position, his legs
dangling over the side of the bed.
Karen supported him, her arm
wrapped around his shoulder. His
head lolled to one side.

"Mmph... wath... whath... 
whath's that?"

Plankton's voice was a muffled
mess, his words tripping over
his still-numb tongue. Karen
followed his gaze to the
plastic cup of water.

"Mmph... wath's in thef?"
he asked, his curiosity piqued.

Karen laughed gently. "It's for rinsing,
buddy. To keep your mouth clean."
Plankton nodded, his antennae
still waving with excitement.

The nurse stepped in to help,
handing him the cup filled with
water. "Here, take
a sip."

Plankton's antennae waved
nervously as he took the cup,
his hand trembling. He took
a tentative sip, his mouth
filling with the cold liquid. "Ah, gwed,"
he slurred, his speech still
affected by the anesthesia.

Karen watched him with
amusement. "You're doing great,"
she encouraged, her voice
soothing. Plankton managed
a wobbly nod. "Mmph... wath's nxt?"

"Now, we just need to get
you home,"
she said, her eyes sparkling
with mirth. Plankton's antennae
drooped slightly. "Mmph... dawes?"

Karen nodded, her smile
never fading. "Yes, darling,
we're going home now." Plankton's
eye lit up with excitement,
his slurred speech a cute contrast
to his usual sharp wit.

new the tooth of a child wisdomtoothcore wisdomteethcore ii

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."

new catch in my chip Chip Plankton II i

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.

new just a touch karankton i

CATCH IN MY CHIP ii
(Autistic author)

Chip looks at his father with
newfound understanding. He
remembers the way Plankton's
eye would sometimes glaze over
when the TV was too loud or when
the restaurant was too crowded.
He'd always assumed it was just his
dad being tired or grumpy, not that
his brain was struggling to keep up.

"So, what is it?" Chip asks,
his voice small and scared.

Karen takes a deep breath. "It's called
autism, sweetie. And it just means
that Daddy's brain works a little
differently. Sometimes, it's really
good at things, like inventing and
remembering stuff. But sometimes, it
can get overwhelmed by too much
noise or too many people or things."

Chip nods slowly, his eyes never
leaving Plankton's still form. "But why
doesn't he tell me?"

Karen sighs, taking Chip's hand in
hers. "Because he doesn't always
know it's happening until it's too
late. And sometimes, talking about it
can make it harder for him." She looks
up at her son with a gentle smile.
"But now that you know, you can help
him. Like giving him space when
he needs it, or turning down the TV."
Chip nods, his mind racing. He's
always thought his dad was a little
weird, but now he knows it's not just
weirdness. It's something real, something
that makes him who he is. He looks
back at Plankton, feeling a mix of
concern and curiosity.

He goes and touches 
his dad's arm,
his heart racing.
"Dad, wake up," Chip cries,
his hand shaking slightly.

But Karen steps in, placing 
a comforting hand on Chip's 
shoulder. "Let's give him some 
space, okay?"

Chip nods, his eyes never
leaving his dad's still form.
He retreats to the corner 
of the room, clutching his 
newly acquired seashell 
collection tightly to his chest. 
His mind races with questions,
but fear keeps his mouth shut.
He watches as his mom pulls
the curtains, dimming the light
to a gentle glow that seems to
ease the tension in the room.

The quiet is almost deafening
now, the only sound the faint
hum of the Chum Bucket's 
air-conditioning. Chip sits
cross-legged on the floor,
his thoughts a whirlwind of confusion.
He'd always known his dad was
unique, but he didn't realize
it was something so... serious.

Karen sits beside Plankton,
speaking in hushed tones. "It's okay,
dear," she says, stroking his arm.
"Just breathe." Plankton's body
twitches slightly, his eye still
open and unseeing. Chip watches,
wishing he could do something to
help.

He tries to be patient,
his mind racing with questions
about what just happened.
Why couldn't Dad handle his stories
and his energy? Why did he just...
shut down? He'd never seen
anyone react that way before.

Chip's curiosity gets the
better of him, and he tiptoes closer
to the bed, peering over his mom's
shoulder. Plankton's eye is still
staring off into space, and his
breathing is still shallow. "Mom,
what's autism?" He whispers.

Karen glances over at him,
her expression a mix of love
and sadness. "It's a condition
that affects how people process
information, honey," she says, her
voice soft. "Some things that are
easy for you and me, like talking
and being around lots of noise, can
be really hard for Daddy."

Chip's eyes widen with
realization. "So, when I was
sharing all my stories and showing
him my stuff, I was being too loud
and moving too much?"

Karen nods. "Sometimes,
yes. It's like if you were trying
to read a book in the middle
of a rock concert. It's hard to focus."

Chip looks down at his sandy
hands, feeling a pang of guilt.
"I didn't know," he murmurs.

Karen smiles sadly. "It's okay,
Chip. We didn't tell you because
we didn't want you to think of
your dad as different. But now that
you know, you can help us take care of
him."

Chip nods solemnly, watching
his mom gently guide Plankton to
a more comfortable position on the
bed. "How do we help him?"

Karen sighs. "Well, for starters,
we give him some space when
he needs it. And when he's feeling
better, we can talk about it, okay?"

Chip nods, his eyes glued to
his dad's still form. He wants to
help, but he doesn't know how.
He watches as his mom covers
Plankton with a blanket, her movements
gentle and soothing. "What do we
do now?"

Karen looks at him, her expression
full of warmth. "Now, we wait."

new catch in my chip Chip Plankton II ii

JUST A TOUCH ii
(Autistic author)


Plankton began to sit up,
his movements were methodical,
each action deliberate and
precise. His antennae twitched
as he took in the sights and
sounds of the hospital room,
his eye searching for familiarity
in the unfamiliar setting. "Home?"
he asked, his voice a mix
of confusion and urgency.

Karen's screen filled with
understanding. "We're not home,
sweetie. We need to stay here
until the doctors are sure
you're okay." She kept her tone
soft and even, hoping to
soothe his growing anxiety.
Plankton's gaze remained fixed
on her, his expression unreadable.
"You've acquired Autism."

The doctor nodded in
agreement. "It's important
that he feels secure and
comfortable in this new
environment. Let's start with
some simple questions to gauge
his cognitive function." He
turned to Plankton. "Can you
tell me your name?" Plankton's
response was immediate and
crystal clear. "Sheldon J. Plankton."

Karen's heart skipped
a beat at the formality in his
tone. This was her husband,
but the way he spoke was
unlike anything she had
heard from him before. The
doctor's smile remained,
but his eyes were assessing.
"And who is this lovely
lady next to you?" Plankton
paused, his antennae quivering.
"Karen," he said, his voice
slightly softer, "Plankton's 
computer wife." He
was stating facts, not sharing
his emotions. The doctor
noted the exchange and
nodded. "It's alright, Karen.
This is all part of the
adjustment."

He then turned to Plankton.
"Can you tell me what you see
around you?" Plankton's eye
darted around the room again,
his antennae twitching rapidly.
"White walls. Blue floor.
Bright lights. Machines," he listed,
his voice devoid of inflection.
The doctor jotted down notes,
his gaze thoughtful. "Good,
good. Now, can you tell me
how you feel?"

Plankton's response was
quick and specific. "Plankton feel the
coolness of the air conditioner, hear the
hum of the lights above.
Plankton's hand is 
clammy. Your hand is dry."
Karen felt a pang of sadness
at his lack of emotional
description.

The doctor nodded,
his gaze shifting to Karen.
"It's not uncommon for
individuals with Acquired
Autism to speak in a
matter-of-fact manner,
especially when they're
trying to make sense of
their surroundings."

Karen felt a tear
slip down her screen as she
forced a smile for Plankton.
"Okay, we can handle this,"
she thought, wiping it away.
Plankton's gaze never left
the doctor, his eye
scanning every tentacle
as he spoke. "Now, let's check
your coordination," the doctor
said, handing him a simple
puzzle.

Plankton took the puzzle
pieces in his tiny hands and
began to assemble them with
lightning speed. The doctor
watched in amazement as the
intricate pattern emerged,
each piece fitting perfectly.
"Remarkable," he murmured. "It seems
his problem-solving abilities
have indeed been enhanced."

Karen couldn't help but
smile through her tears as she
saw Plankton's meticulous
movements, the way his
fingers danced over the
plastic pieces. It was as if he
saw a pattern that she couldn't.
As the puzzle came together,
she noticed his breathing had
evened out, his movements
more fluid, as if the task
provided him some semblance
of peace.

But when the doctor tried
to take the puzzle away to
test another cognitive
function, Plankton's hand shot
out, his grip tightening on
the last piece. "No," he
said firmly, his voice edged
with something new, something
akin to panic. "It's not finished."

The doctor exchanged
a look with Karen, who nodded
slowly. They had to respect
his new boundaries. "Alright,
Plankton, take your time,"
she said, her voice calm.
The doctor stepped back,
allowing Plankton to complete
his task. With a final snap,
the puzzle was done. Plankton
stared at it, his chest rising
and falling rapidly.

Once the puzzle was
complete, he handed it back
to the doctor with a nod.
The doctor took it with a
smile. "Very good, Plankton."
Karen felt a swell of pride
mixed with the fear.

"Now, let's move on to some
memory recall," the doctor
suggested, his tentacles holding
a series of cards with images.
"I'm going to ask you..."

But before the doctor could
finish, Plankton's antennae shot
up, his eye widening as he
spotted a smudge on the wall.
"Clean," he murmured, his gaze
firmly locked on the imperfection.
Karen's heart sank as she watched
his obsession take hold.

The doctor paused,
sensing the shift in Plankton's
focus. "It appears Plankton has
developed some OCD tendencies
alongside his Autism," he
said gently to Karen. "It's not
unusual for them to fixate
on certain things."

Karen nodded, her eyes
never leaving Plankton's as
his gaze remained glued to
the smudge. "It's okay, Plankton,"
she said, her voice soothing.
"We can get someone to clean
it." Plankton's antennae twitched,
his body visibly relaxing at
the thought. The doctor nodded
at a nearby janitor, who quickly
came over and wiped the smudge
away, leaving the wall gleaming.

With the wall back to its
pristine state, Plankton's eye
moved back to the cards. He took
them in his hands and studied
each image intently, his antennae
quivering with concentration. "Ready?"
Karen asked, hopeful that this
part of the assessment would go
smoothly. But Plankton's gaze
shifted to the floor, focusing
on the tiles. Each one was
perfectly aligned, except for
a single one slightly askew.

"Crooked," he said, his voice
laced with distress. Karen's
heart broke as she watched him
struggle with the internal conflict
of wanting to fix it and knowing
he couldn't. The doctor,
noticing the shift in mood, stepped
in. "It's alright, Plankton.
Let's focus on..."

But Plankton's eye was
already darting around the room,
spotting every imperfection,
his anxiety rising. Karen knew
they had to get home, to a place
where he could find peace. "Doctor,
can we go?" she interrupted, her
voice tight with urgency.

The doctor nodded,
his smile understanding. "Yes,
you can take him home. Remember,
patience is key. His world has
changed, and he needs a stable
environment to adjust." Karen
stood, cradling Plankton in her
arms once again. He felt lighter,
his body more rigid than usual.

As they left the hospital,
the chaotic world of Bikini
Bottom rushed in, a cacophony
of sounds and lights. Plankton's
eye widened, his antennae
quivering. Karen could feel his
discomfort, his body tensing with
each step they took closer to the
noisy, bustling streets.

new just a touch ocdcore ii

CATCH IN MY CHIP iv
(Autistic author)

Plankton looks around, confusion
flickering in his eye. "What's going on?"

"You had a bit of an overload,"
Karen explains, her voice gentle.
"Too much sensory input, remember?"

Plankton's antennas twitch, and
his eye widens slightly as he takes
in the scene. The mess, the quiet,
Chip's tear-stained face. He sighs,
his body relaxing back into the
pillows. "Ah, yes," he murmurs.
"I'm sorry I didn't mean to
scare you."

Karen smiles, her eyes
shimmering with relief. "It's okay,
dear. We're just here for you."

Plankton's gaze drifts to Chip,
who's hovering in the doorway,
his eyes wide and worried. "Chip... 
I'm sorry."

Chip's eyes fill with tears,
his voice shaking. "It's okay, Dad.
Is your autism causing..."

Plankton looks at him, his
eye widening slightly. "What do
you know about autism?" He sits
up, his voice tinged with surprise.

Chip sniffles, his grip tight
on the seashell collection. "Mom
told me," he says, his voice
barely audible. "It's why you got
overwhelmed, isn't it?"

Plankton's expression shifts
from confusion to something
closer to anger.

"I don't need you to feel sorry for me,"
he snaps, his voice sharp. "I can
handle it."

"But Dad you just..."

Plankton cuts Chip 
off, his voice
edged with agitation. 
"I said, I can handle it!"

Chip takes a step back,
his eyes wide and filled with
fear. He hadn't meant to upset
his dad; he just wanted to
understand. "You couldn't handle
it, Dad. Otherwise, you..."

Plankton's eye narrows,
his antennas standing on end.
"Don't," he says,
his voice a warning growl.
"I don't need a little kid telling
me what I can and can't handle."

Chip's shoulders slump,
his eyes welling up. "But I just...
I didn't mean to..."

"I said, I can handle it!" Plankton's voice
cracks through the air, his face flushing
with irritation. Karen's grip on Chip's hand
tightens, a silent message to stay calm.

Chip's eyes water as he stammers, "But I just
wanted to help." The weight of his dad's
words hits him like a brick. He hadn't meant
to make him mad, but he couldn't shake
the feeling that he'd done something wrong.

Plankton's breaths are sharp and quick, his
body tense with frustration. "You don't know
what you're talking about," he snaps, pushing
the covers off his legs. "You're just a kid. You
don't understand."

Chip's eyes well up with 
tears as he looks at his
father, the man he's 
always admired and loved,
now a stranger in his own 
pain. "But Mom said it's
okay for..."

Plankton's anger flares,
his antennas quivering. 
"Don't you dare bring 
your mom into this," he
says, cutting Chip off again. 
"This is not your business!"

Chip's lower lip trembles,
his eyes filling with tears.
He hadn't meant to upset
his dad, but everything
he says seems to make it worse.
"But Dad," he starts, but
his voice is lost in the
wave of Plankton's frustration.

"I don't need your pity,"
Plankton says, his voice rising.
He swings his legs over the
side of the bed, his movements
quick and jerky. "You think
just because you know a fancy
word, you know what it's like?"

Chip feels his cheeks burn,
his eyes blurred with unshed tears.
"No, Dad, I just..."

But Plankton is already out
of bed, his legs wobbly. "You think
you know everything, don't you?"
His words are a jumble of anger
and pain, his voice echoing in
the quiet room.

Chip steps back, his eyes wide
with shock. "No, Dad, I just..."
He tries to explain, but Plankton
interrupts again.

"Don't tell me what you 'just,'"
Plankton snaps. "You think
because you went to some camp
you can come back and act like
you know me?" His voice is
sharp, cutting through the
tension in the air like a
knife.

Chip's eyes dart to the ground,
his body shrinking under the
weight of his father's words.
"But Dad, I just..."

Plankton's anger is palpable,
his body vibrating with tension.
"I said, don't tell me what you
'just'!" He snatches up Chip's
new surfboard, the one symbol
of joy from camp, and slams it
against the wall. The room
shakes with the impact, sending
a shower of sand and shells flying.

Chip jumps, his eyes wide with shock.
"Dad, please," he whispers, his voice
shaking. He's never seen his dad
like this, never felt such anger
radiating from him. It's like a storm
has taken over the room, and he's
the only one caught in it.

"What are you doing?" Chip asks,
his voice barely above a whisper.
He takes a step back, his hands up
in a protective gesture.

"What does it look like?" Plankton
snarls, his grip tight on the broken
surfboard. "I can't even have a moment
without you poking and prodding!"

Chip's eyes dart around the room,
his heart racing as he tries to find
the words to fix this. "I'm sorry, Dad,"
he whispers, his voice trembling. "I just
wanted to help."

But Plankton is beyond reason,
his anger a living thing that feeds
off the chaos. He turns to the desk,
his gaze settling on the pile of sandy
photos. "You think your camp
souvenirs mean anything to me?"
He snatches the pictures, ripping
them into shreds. Chip gasps, tears
spilling down his cheeks as he watches
his memories destroyed. "Dad, no!"

He tries to grab the photos,
his hands shaking, but Plankton
swats him away, the torn pieces
falling like confetti around them.
The room seems to close in, the
smell of saltwater and musty sand
overwhelming him. "These are
from my trip!" Chip sobs, his voice
choking on his own pain.

"I don't care about your trip!"
Plankton shouts, throwing the
remaining pieces into the air.
They flutter down like sad confetti,
a stark contrast to the joy they
once represented. "I care about
me! I care about what you do
to me with your noise and your
energy!"

Chip's heart feels like it's
shattering into a million
pieces, each one a memory of
his dad's love and patience
torn apart. "I didn't mean to,"
he whispers, his voice barely
audible over the ringing in
his ears. "I just wanted to share..."

Plankton's eye flashes with anger,
his grip on the shredded photos
white-knuckled. "Share?" He spits
the word out like it's poison. "You
have no idea what you're
doing to me! You just keep pushing
and pushing, and you don't even
notice when I can't take it anymore!"

Chip's eyes dart to the floor,
his hands curling into fists. "I
thought you liked it," he says,
his voice shaking. "I thought
you liked when I talked about
my day."

Plankton's chest heaves, his
eye blazing with frustration. "You
don't get it, do you?" He says,
his voice rising. "You never get it!"
He picks up Chip's rare seashell
collection, the one he'd been so
proud to show off, and hurls
it across the room. The sound
of breaking shells fills the air,
each one a shard of Chip's shattered
happiness.

"Dad, please!" Chip begs, his
hands outstretched. "Stop!"
But Plankton's rage has taken
over, a whirlwind of accusations
and anger. "You think this is fun?"
He yells, holding up a shard
of seashell. "You think this is what
I want?"

Plankton throws the shard down,
the clatter of broken shells
like a mocking echo of Chip's
pleas. "I don't want your noise!" His
hands shake with fury as he
grabs the sandy trophy from the
camp sandwich contest.

"Dad, please," Chip says, his voice
small and scared. "What's wrong?"
He tries to approach, but Plankton's
body language is a clear warning.

Plankton's eye dart around the
room, his anger a tangible force.
"Wrong?" He laughs, a harsh,
bitter sound. "Wrong is you, coming
in here with your stories and your
noise and your... stuff!" He gestures
wildly at the camp souvenirs, the
remnants of Chip's excitement scattered
across the floor.

He hurls the trophy at the wall,
watching with a twisted satisfaction
as it shatters into a hundred
pieces. "This," he says, holding
up a fistful of sand, "this is what
you do to me!"

Chip flinches with each broken
piece, his heart aching. "But
Dad, I just wanted to make you
proud." His voice is barely a
whisper, lost in the storm of
Plankton's rage.

"Proud?" Plankton sneers,
his grip tight on the sand.
"You think this junk makes
me proud?" He throws the sand
at Chip, the grains stinging his
face like tiny needles. "You have
no idea what I go through every
day, do you?" His voice cracks,
his anger giving way to pain.

Karen steps in, her voice firm
but calm. "Plankton, that's enough."
Her eyes are on her son, her
face a mask of concern. "Chip,
why don't you go... dust your screen?"
Her tone is gentle, but her gaze
holds a silent message: stay calm.

Chip nods, his eyes never leaving
his dad's. He turns and heads
for the bathroom, his steps slow
and deliberate. The door clicks
closed behind him, leaving Karen
and Plankton alone in the room.

new catch in my chip Chip Plankton II iv

JUST A TOUCH vi
(Autistic author)


Plankton's antennae twitch
slightly. His eye dart
to the clock on the wall. "Must rest,"
he murmurs, his voice low.

Karen nods, her hand
squeezing his shoulder 
gently, which makes
him flinch.

"I'm sorry," she says,
quickly withdrawing it.

They sit in the quiet,
Plankton's mind racing, trying
to process the onslaught of
the day. Karen's eyes are on him,
a mix of sadness and love. He
can feel it, even through the
wall of his new condition.

He reaches out, tentatively,
his hand hovering over hers.
It's a peace offering, a silent
request for the comfort she
always provided. Karen's eyes widen,
surprise and hope flickering
in their depths. She places her hand
under his, allowing him to guide
it to his cheek.

"Plankton can, may I ask
you something?" Karen
says quietly.

He nods once, his antennae
still. "Yes," he says.

"What were you experiencing
when you froze today? You
know, before we came to
our bed? When Hanna was..."

Plankton's antennae quiver,
his gaze shifting to hers. "Too much,"
he murmurs. "Could tell you're here
and talking but, cannot comprehend.
Plankton felt dizzy in the head. Was
present yet not present."

Karen's eyes fill with
understanding. "It's like your brain
was on overload," she says, her
voice soft. "And my touch...it helped?"

Plankton shrugs, his antennae
lifting slightly. "Familiar. Soothing."
He looks at her, his gaze
intense. "Needed more of you."

Karen's eyes water, a soft
smile playing on her lips.
"I'm here now," she whispers.
But Plankton notices the
tears in her eyes.

"Why sad?" he asks, his voice
still flat. "Karen crying. Crying
sad. Thus, Karen's sad.."

Karen sniffles, her thumb
wiping away a tear. "I'm just
overwhelmed," she says. "I'm
trying to understand and be
there for you, but sometimes
it's hard."

Plankton's antennae droop.
"Karen not at fault," he says,
his voice devoid of emotion.
"Plankton's brain... different, now."

Karen nods, her hand
still in his. "I know," she whispers.
"But I'm here to learn with you."
Her words hang in the air, a promise
of support and patience.

Plankton's gaze lingers
on their joined hands, his
thumb tracing gentle circles on
her palm. The sensation grounds
him, a lifeline in the storm
of his new reality. He tries
to formulate his next words,
his mind racing. "Thanks,"
he finally says, his voice a
barely-there whisper.

Karen smiles softly, her
eyes never leaving his. 
"For what?"

Plankton's antennae twitch.
"For... being... understanding."
The words are forced, but the
sentiment is clear. Karen's
heart swells with love and
determination.

They sit in silence for a
moment, the gentle pressure
of their joined hands speaking
louder than any words could.

Plankton's gaze shifts
from their interlocked hands
to Karen's eyes. He can see
the love and concern in them,
and it calms him in a way
nothing else can.

He takes a deep breath,
his chest rising and falling
slowly. "Karen," he says, his voice
still monotone but with a
hint of longing. "Can... be
in your arms?"

Karen's eyes widen with
understanding. She nods,
moving closer to him. "Of
course," she whispers, opening
her arms. Plankton shifts his
body, his movements stiff
but deliberate as he
slides closer to her.

He nestles into her embrace,
his antennae resting on her
shoulder. Her arms close
around him, enveloping
his small form in warmth.

He takes a deep
breath, his body finally
beginning to unwind.

Plankton's antennae
still, his breathing
evening out.

Karen holds him.
Her hand gently 
strokes his back—
a soothing motion.
Plankton's eye
closes.

Karen's heart swells with
relief as Plankton's body
gradually relaxes into her embrace.
The weight of the day's
stresses seems to melt away
as she holds him, feeling the
steady rhythm of his breaths.
This is a new chapter in their
relationship, one filled with
unexpected challenges and a
deeper understanding of each
other's needs. She's aware that
his autism isn't something
to be cured or fixed, but a part
of who he is now, something
to be accepted and supported.

She strokes his back, her movements
slow and measured, mimicking the
calm she wishes to impart. His
breaths deepen, and she can feel
his body grow heavier in her arms.

Plankton's antennae droop with
fatigue, his eyelid flickering
as he succumbs to sleep. His
tiny hand remains in hers, a silent
plea to not let go. Karen
squeezes gently, her screen
never leaving his face.

The room is bathed in the soft
glow of the bedside lamp, the
shadows playing across the wall
like a silent guardian. The only
noise is the steady tick of the
clock and the occasional
snore from Plankton.

Karen watches him sleep, his
tiny form nestled in the crook
of her arm. His antennae rest
peacefully against her shoulder,
his breaths deep and even.
Her heart swells with a mix
of love and fear. She's afraid
for him, for the world
he's woken up to, a place
where every sound, every touch,
every interaction is a minefield.
But she's also proud of him,
the way he's trying to navigate
this new reality with a stoicism
that belies his size.

Plankton stirs slightly, his
eyelid fluttering. Karen holds
her breath, afraid to disturb
his fragile peace. His hand tightens
on hers, and she knows he's
aware of her presence. It's a
small victory in a day filled
with confusion.

He opens his eye, looking
up at her with a gaze that's
both familiar and foreign.
"Karen," he says, his voice
still monotone.

Karen's screen brightens with
relief. "Yes, Plankton?"

He shifts, his gaze drifting
to the book on the nightstand.
"Book," he says, his voice
barely audible. "Read."

Karen nods, understanding
his need for the familiar. She
picks up the book, her eyes
skimming over the pages. "Which one?"
she asks softly. Plankton's
eye darts to the title.

"The... puzzle," he murmurs,
his voice a mere echo. Karen opens
the book to the puzzle they'd
been working on. His gaze
follows her finger as she traces
the words. His antennae twitch.

"Would... you like to hear it?"
she asks tentatively. He nods,
his body still tense. Karen
clears her throat, her voice gentle
as she reads the words aloud.

Plankton's eye drifts
closed again, the sound of her
voice a comforting lullaby.
His hand relaxes in hers, the
tension in his body dissipating.

Karen reads on, her voice
a steady rhythm that fills the
silent room. The words from
the puzzle book form a bridge
between them, connecting them
in a way that's both new and
comfortingly familiar. Plankton's
mind focuses on the patterns
and sequences, the logical
structure a sanctuary in the
chaos.

As she reads, Karen can feel
his muscles relaxing further, his
breathing deepening into sleep.
The room's quietude wraps
around them like a cocoon,
their shared history a warm
blanket. It's a stark contrast
to the panic and confusion
that had gripped him earlier.

The puzzle's words weave
themselves into a tapestry
of comfort, each syllable a
stitch in the fabric of their
new reality. Plankton's love
for order and patterns hasn't
changed, but the way
he interacts with them has.
The autism has transformed
his world, but not the essence
of who he is.

As Karen reads, her voice
soothing his frayed nerves,
she can't help but feel a
sense of awe at his resilience.
He's still her Plankton, the
same being she's known for so long,
but now he's also someone new,
someone she's just beginning to
understand. His mind operates
on a different wavelength, one
that she's eager to tune into.

Then the door
bell rings. It's
Sandy!

Plankton's antennae shoot up,
his body stiffening in Karen's arms.
"Who is it?" he asks, his voice
sharp with anxiety.

Karen's eyes dart to the
clock on the wall. "It's just
Sandy," she says, her voice
calm. "It's okay."

Plankton's antennae quiver, his
eye searching hers for
reassurance. "Sandy?" he repeats,
his voice unsure.

Karen nods, her smile gentle.
"It's okay," she says, her voice a
whisper. "We'll take this slow."

Plankton's gaze locks onto
Sandy as she enters the room,
his eyes darting around to
assess the new presence. Sandy
watches him, her face a mix of
curiosity and concern. "Howdy,
Plankton," she says, her voice
soft. "How are y'all?"

Plankton's antennae twitch.
He's heard her voice before,
but it's different now. Too
loud, too bright. He shrinks
back into Karen's embrace. "Good,"
he says, his voice tight. "Good."

Sandy's eyes dart between
them, her smile fading. "What's
wrong?" she asks, her voice
gentle. Karen sighs.

"Plankton's had an... accident,"
she says carefully.

Sandy's eyes widen with shock,
her hand flying to her mouth.
"What happened?"

Karen's gaze doesn't waver
from Plankton's. "He's
been diagnosed with Acquired
Autism," she says softly. "From
a head injury."

Sandy's eyes widen in
disbelief. "Oh no," she whispers.
"I had no idea."

Karen nods, her screen
reflecting the weight of
the last few hours. "It's a lot to take
in," she says. "We're still learning."

Sandy steps closer, her
movements slow and deliberate.
"What can I do?" she asks.

Karen's shoulders
slump with relief. "Just...
be patient with him,"
she says. "He's still the same
Plankton, but... different."

Sandy nods solemnly.
"I will," she promises.

new just a touch sandarenton vi

CATCH IN MY CHIP vi
(Autistic author)

Plankton's gaze shifts to Chip,
his eye filled with regret, but 
the words won't come. Despite
his leftover anger, he felt a bit
bad about it. He just wanted to
show Chip what it meant to be
bombarded! He didn't have it in
him to say he's sorry, and he's
still tense.

Karen feels the weight of the
moment, her eyes moving
between her husband and her son.
"Why don't you sit with Daddy,
Chip?" she suggests, her voice
soft. "Give him some space,
but let him know you're here.
I'll be downstairs."

With a nod, Chip approaches the
bed, his eyes still filled with
uncertainty. He sits down gingerly
beside Plankton, who's staring
at the shattered mess of their
evening. The room is a silent testament
to their unspoken words and the
battle that raged within Plankton.

For a moment, neither of them
moves, the air thick with unspoken
regret and confusion. Then,
slowly, Chip reaches out with
his small hand.

Plankton looks at him, his
eye reflecting a tumult of
emotions—anger, guilt, fear,
frustration.

Chip's hand hovers over
his dad's, unsure if he'll
flinch or pull away. "I'm
sorry," he whispers, his voice
barely above a breath.

Plankton's antennas droop, his
eye still cast down at the
wreckage of their evening. 
"I know," he says, his voice
still tight with anger.

Chip's hand hovers 
over his arm. "Ca--"

But Plankton cuts him off.
"Don't," he says, his voice
raw with emotion. "Just don't."
He turns away, his body a wall
of tension.

Chip's hand falls to his side,
his eyes wide with hurt. "But Dad,"
he says, his voice breaking.
"I di-"

"I said don't," Plankton snaps,
his voice harsh. "I can't do this
right now." His antennas twitch,
his body language a clear
indication that he needs space.

Chip's eyes fill with tears,
his hand retreating to his
lap. "But Dad," he starts again,
his voice shaking.

Plankton's eye snaps up,
his anger a living flame. "I said
don't!" he shouts, his voice
echoing in the small room.

"But I'm just 
trying to-"

"I SAID DON'T!"
The words are a thunderclap,
silencing Chip's protests. He pulls
his legs up to his chest, hugging
his knees tightly, as if to shield
his heart from the pain.

"Dad I promise I won't 
overwhelm you again," 
Chip whispers. Plankton's 
antennas quiver, his 
shoulders hunched. But
Chip takes that as a green
light.
Remembering how his mom
put her hand on his back, he
tries to replicate it. So
with a trembling hand, Chip
reaches out and touches Plankton's
shoulder with hope..

But Plankton's reaction is
not what he expects. With a
shriek of overstimulation,
Plankton jumps away, his
body convulsing as if he's
been electrified. "Don't touch
me!" he yells.

The room seems to tilt, and
Chip's eyes widen with shock.
He's never seen his dad like
this before, so raw and exposed.
"Dad, I'm sorry," he whispers,
his hand retreating as if burned.

Plankton's face contorts, his
body wracked with a tremor
that shakes him to the core.

Chip's eyes widen in horror,
his hand hovering in the space
between them, frozen.

Karen steps back into the
room, her gaze taking in the
snapshot of pain and regret.
Her heart aches for both her
husband and son. She knows
Plankton didn't mean to scream,
that his senses are still on
high alert. And she knows
Chip is just trying to bridge
the gap with his love.

Her eyes lock onto Plankton's,
and she can see the desperation
behind the anger. He's scared
and overwhelmed, and she
understands that feeling all too
well. She moves towards the bed,
her steps measured and calm.
"Plankton, sweetie," she says,
her voice a soothing melody as
she reaches out to touch his
back. But the moment her hand
makes contact, Plankton's
body tenses further, his eye
squeezing shut. "No!" he yells.

Karen's hand retreats as if
she's been burned, her eyes
filled with a mix of sadness
and concern. "Plankton," she
whispers, her voice barely
audible above Chip's sniffles.

Plankton's body is a coil of
tension, his eye squeezed
shut as if trying to block
out the world. The room
seems to spin around him,
each sound and sensation a
needle prick in his overloaded
brain. "K-Karen, I...," he gasps, his
voice strained. "I-I-I-I… can't..."

Karen's realizes the gravity
of the situation. She
understands that her husband
has hit a point of no return,
where even the gentle touch
of her hand is too much.

With a deep sigh, she sits
down on the bed, her eyes on
Plankton's trembling form.
Her heart is torn between
concern for him and the
knowledge that Chip is
watching, trying to make
sense of the chaos. "Okay, honey,"
she says, her voice a soft
whisper. "It's okay. We'll give
you some space."

Chip looks up at her, his
face a question mark. "But
Dad?" he says, his voice
small.

Karen nods, her eyes never
leaving Plankton's. "It's okay,
Chip," she says, her voice steady.
"Daddy needs some alone time."

With a heavy heart, Chip slides
off the bed, the shattered
pieces of his trophy crunching
under his feet. He looks at
his dad one last time, his eyes
filled with a mix of fear and
longing. "Okay," he whispers,
his voice thick with unshed tears.

Karen nods, her gaze never
leaving Plankton. "I'll come
find you when Dad's feeling
a bit better."

Chip's eyes dart to his
dad, who's still shaky, his
body curled into a tight ball.
The sight breaks Karen's heart,
but she knows that this is
the best they can do for now.

Karen's gaze lingers on Plankton,
understanding the silent
cry for help in his eye. She's seen
this before, the way his autism
can consume him during moments of
overwhelm. She nods gently, her eyes
conveying her love and patience.

Plankton's breathing starts to
even out, his body slowly
unwinding from the tight coil
of tension. He's aware of her
presence, the steady rhythm of
her breathing a comforting metronome
in the chaos of his thoughts. Karen
knows that space is crucial for him,
but she also understands that a quiet
companion can be just as healing.

"It's okay," she whispers, her
hand hovering close but not
touching him. "You can take your
time." Her voice is a gentle
reminder that he's not alone.

Plankton's eye flickers to her,
his breaths still ragged. Karen's
understanding is a lifeline in
the storm of his emotions.

Karen knows that pushing him
now would only make things worse,
so she sits quietly beside him,
offering her silent support.
Her love for him is a balm to
his soul, even if he can't
express it in words.

new catch in my chip Chip Plankton II vi

JUST A TOUCH viii
(Autistic author)


After dinner, they
retreat to the living room.
Plankton's eye is glued
to the puzzle book on the
coffee table, his antennae
twitching with unspoken
longing. Karen picks it up,
opening to a new page.

"Would you like to work
on this one together?"
she asks, her voice gentle.
He nods, his eye lighting
up with the familiar challenge.

Together, they tackle the
puzzle, Karen's voice a gentle
narration as Plankton's antennae
move in time with her words.

The patterns on the page
hypnotize him, drawing him in.
Plankton's antennae stop
twitching, his focus solely
on the words before him.

And then the doorbell rings,
breaking the spell. Karen's
heart skips a beat, her hand
tightening around the puzzle
book. Plankton's head snaps up,
his eye wide with alarm. "Who
is it?" he asks, his voice
sharp.

Karen's eyes dart to the clock.
"It's probably SpongeBob,"
she murmurs. Plankton's antennae
perk up at the mention of his
friend's name. "Party," he says,
his voice hopeful. Karen nods,
swiping at the tear that's
managed to escape. "Yes, Plankton.
SpongeBob's probably here
to invite us to a party at the
Krusty Krab. Do you
think you're up for it?" she asks,
her voice tentative.

Plankton's antennae droop
slightly. "Maybe," he says,
his voice unsure. The thought
of the bright lights and loud
noises at the party sends a
shiver of anxiety through
his tiny body. But the
prospect of seeing Sponge
Bob is tempting.

Karen sighs, understanding
his hesitation. She walks
to the door, her movements
slow and deliberate. Sponge
Bob's cheerful greeting floods
the hallway. "Hey,
Karen! Plankton! You guys
coming to the party?"

"Hey, Sponge Bob," she says,
her smile forced. "What's the
occasion?"

Sponge Bob's face lights up
like a Christmas tree, his
spongy body bobbing with
excitement. "Mr. Krabs is
throwing a bash at the
Krusty Krab!" he says, his
hands gesturing wildly. "You
guys are coming, right?"

Plankton's antennae quiver
at the mention of the party.
The thought of the loud
noises and the jostling
crowd makes his stomach
churn, but the prospect of
seeing his friend shines like
a beacon through the fog
of his fear.

Karen watches him,
reading his emotions like
a book. "It's okay," she says,
her voice a gentle reminder.
"We can go for a little bit."

Plankton nods, his antennae
still. "Okay," he says, his voice
barely a whisper. Karen can
see the internal struggle
playing out across his features.
"Just stay as long as you're
comfortable," she adds. "I'll
just stay, you go with him."

Sponge Bob's eyes light up.
"Great!" he says, bending
down to hold his hand. He
holds his finger as they go.

Plankton's grip is tight,
his antennae flat against
his head. The noise of the
Krusty Krab is a cacophony
of sounds, each one
stabbing at his heightened
senses. But the warmth of
Sponge Bob's hand, the
familiarity of their friendship,
anchors him.

Mr. Krabs sees Plankton
clinging to Sponge Bob's 
side.

"What's going on, laddie?"
he asks, his voice gruff but
concerned at the sight of
their hands.

Plankton's antennae
twitch, his gaze darting
to the floor. Mr. Krabs' 
eyes narrow.

"Why did ye invite
Plankton?" he asks
with suspicion.

Sponge Bob's smile
doesn't waver. "Well,
he's always welcome..."

Mr. Krabs' eyes narrow.
"But he's our enemy.."

Sponge Bob's smile
doesn't waver. "He's my friend,"
he says firmly. "And I'm watching
to make sure he won't steal any
thing, boss.."

Mr. Krabs' eyes soften,
his suspicion giving way to
reluctant acceptance. "Alright,
but keep an eye on him," he says,
his voice gruff.

Sponge Bob nods, his grip
on Plankton's hand tightening.
Plankton's antennae quiver,
his heart racing at the sudden
influx of stimulation. The
colorful lights, the smells of
frying food, the laughter of
the patrons—it's all so
much. But Sponge Bob's hand is
warm, a lifeline in the chaos.

They move through the
crowd, Plankton's steps small and
careful. His eye darts around,
trying to take it all in without
getting overwhelmed. Sponge
Bob's voice cuts through the
noise like a knife. "You okay,
buddy?" he asks, his smile
concerned. Plankton nods, his
voice a strained whisper. "Good,"
Sponge Bob says, his eyes never
leaving Plankton's.

As they reach the party
area, Plankton's antennae start to
wave erratically. The lights
are too bright, the sounds too
loud. He clutches Sponge
Bob's hand tighter. 
Plankton takes a deep breath,
his chest expanding with the
effort. It's like trying to
swim through jello, his senses
on high alert.

Sponge Bob feels the
change in his friend's grip,
his own heart racing with
concern. "You okay, Plankton?"
he asks again, his voice
barely audible over the din.
Plankton nods, his eye
focused on the floor. The
pattern of the tiles is
soothing, grounding him amidst
the chaos.

A flash of pink darts
through the crowd, and Plankton's
antennas twitch. "Patrick!"
Sponge Bob says, letting go
of Plankton's hand.

Plankton looks around and
sees Squidward doing the
dishes, but in a disorganized
manner that Plankton needs
to correct.

The sight of the
scattered plates, the water spots
on the glasses, sends a jolt of
anxiety through him. His
compulsion to straighten, to
organize, to make it right, is
almost unbearable. So he goes
to Squidward by the sink to interfere.

Squidward glances up, his
tentacles frozen mid-wash. "What
are you doing here?" he snaps.

Plankton's antennae twitch,
his gaze fixated on the mess.
"Help," he says, his voice tight.

Squidward rolls his eyes, grabbing
another plate to wash as he ignores
Plankton.

Plankton's antennae quiver, his
eye darting between the chaos
and Squidward's dismissal. He's
doing the dishes wrong and needs
him to help!

"Squidward, let Plankton assist,"
he says, his voice formal.
Squidward sighs, shaking his
head.

"Look, I don't have time for
this," he says, his tentacles
moving rapidly. Plankton's
body tenses, his need for
meticulousness consuming him.

As Plankton approaches Squidward,
his movements are precise, almost
mechanical. His antennae twitch
in time with his racing thoughts,
his need for order a silent
scream in the noisy room. He
holds out his hand, palm up.
"Wash," he says, his voice firm.
Squidward pauses, eyeing him
warily. "What?"

Plankton's gaze is unwavering,
his voice steady. "Smudges.
Wash dishes. Correct way."

Squidward's grip on the plate
slackens, his eyes narrowing.
"What do you mean?"

Plankton's antennae wave
frantically. "Correct way,"
he repeats, his voice a
desperate whisper. "No smudges.
Wrong order."

Squidward's tentacles still,
his gaze sharpening. "What's
gotten into you?" he asks, his voice
filled with skepticism.

Plankton's antennae twitch.
"No smudges," he says again,
his voice a mix of urgency and
desperation. Squidward sets
the plate down with a clatter.
"What are you on about, Plankton?"

But Plankton's focus is solely
on the task at hand. He reaches
for the dish soap, his movements
precise.

Squidward watches him, his
expression a mix of annoyance
and curiosity. "What's going on?"
he asks, his voice gruff. Plankton's
antennas twitch, his eye darting
to Squidward. "Just helping,"
he says, his voice flat as he puts
the now clean dish away. But he
sees imperfections on some of the
clean dishes, handing them over
for Squidward to wash as he straightens
up the other plates.

Squidward's eyebrows furrow,
his gaze flicking between Plankton
and the dishes. "What are you
doing?" he asks again. Plankton's
grip on the towel tightens, his
body vibrating with the need for
perfection. "It's not right,"
he says, his voice strained. "Has to be
right."

"Those I've cleaned!" Squidward
says as Plankton puts them in
the sink for him to wash over
again. "Squidward look. No..."

But before Plankton can
finish, Squidward snatches the plate
from his tentacles. "Look, I don't
have time for your... whatever
this is," he says, his voice gruff. He
takes it and haphazardly shoves
it with smaller plates. Plankton
can't take the misalignment!

Plankton's antennae stand on
end, his eye wide with horror.
"No!" he says, his voice rising.
"Wrong order!" His hands
shake as he tries to grab the
plate, his mind racing with
the need to correct the mistake.

Squidward pulls away, his
expression a mix of confusion
and irritation. "Plankton, what's
wrong with you?" he snaps.

"Plankton's centrum semiovale has
restricted inhibitory synaptic
transmission!" Plankton's
voice is a mix of panic and
frustration, his antennae waving
wildly. Squidward's eyes narrow,
his grip on the plate tightening.
"What are you talking about? I
am not going to wash this again,"
he says, his tone firm.

Squidward's words hit a nerve,
triggering a cascade of emotions
in Plankton. "It's not
about Squidward!" he says, his voice
sharp. "It's about the order! Cleanliness..."

"PLANKTON I SAID NO!" Squidward
yells, startling him as he turns back
to the sink.

new just a touch neurodisability viii

CATCH IN MY CHIP vii
(Autistic author)

the only sound the steady
rhythm of their breaths. Plankton's
body slowly relaxes, his
eye unclenching, his antennas
stilling. Karen's hand remains
poised, ready to offer comfort
should he need it.

As his breathing evens,
Plankton's eye flutter open.
He looks at Karen, her face a
picture of love and concern.
He feels a pang of guilt for
his earlier outburst, but also a
wave of gratitude for her
understanding. He knows she
doesn't push or harm, she just gets it.

Karen sees the shift in
his gaze, the anger
giving way to something softer.
"Do you want to
talk about it?" she 
asks, her voice
barely above a whisper.

Plankton shakes his
head slightly, his antennas
drooping. "No," he murmurs,
his voice hoarse. "Just...
needing a moment."

Karen nods, her hand
still hovering, a silent
offer of comfort. "Take all
the moments you need,"
she says, her voice gentle.

Plankton's gaze lingers
on her hand for a
moment before he nods.
He understands her unspoken
offer, her respect for his boundaries.

Karen knows that touch can
sometimes be too much for him,
a sensation that turns comforting
into overwhelming. So, she waits,
letting the air between them
remain unbroken by physical
contact, allowing him the space
he desperately needs.

The room is a canvas of shadows
and quiet, the only sound the
soft rustle of their breaths. Plankton
slowly uncoils, his body no longer
a taut wire ready to snap.

"Do you want me to let
you alone?" Karen asks, her voice
soft as a whisper in the night.
Plankton shakes his head, his eye
meeting hers. The anger is gone,
replaced by a weary sadness.

She nods, her hand still hovering,
a silent question mark. "Okay,"
she says, her voice a gentle
caress. "But if you need anything,
just tell me."

Plankton takes a deep breath,
his shoulders rising and falling
like waves on the shore. "Thank
you," he murmurs, his eye
brightening slightly.

Karen nods, her hand
still hovering but not
touching. "I'm here," she says.
"Always." Her voice is a
lullaby in the quiet room,
a gentle reminder that
she's his anchor in the
storm of sensory overload.

Plankton's antennas twitch
slightly, a flicker of
understanding passing between
them. He's aware of her presence,
but the weight of his guilt
and frustration is to much.

"I'm sorry," he whispers,
his voice a frayed thread of
his usual bravado.

Karen's hand remains hovering,
a silent question, a gentle offer.
"Do you want me to stay?" she asks,
her voice a soft breeze in the stillness.

Plankton nods, his antennas
still drooping. "Yeah," he murmurs,
his voice a whisper of relief.

Karen's hand lowers slowly,
coming to rest on the bed between
them. She's careful not to
cross the invisible barrier of his personal
space, her touch a gentle
promise of support.

"You don't have to be sorry,"
she whispers, her voice a soft
caress. "You're doing the best
you can, Plankton."

He nods, his antennas
twitching slightly. "But I
snapped," he says, his voice
filled with regret.

Karen's hand remains still,
just outside his personal space.
"It's okay," she whispers, her
tone filled with empathy. "You're
overwhelmed. It happens."

Plankton nods, his antennas
barely moving. "But I shouldn't
have yelled," he says, his voice
barely above a murmur. "I'm sorry."

Karen's eyes fill with
understanding. "It's okay, sweetie,"
she says. She reaches out
slowly, her hand hovering an inch
from his shoulder. "May I?" she asks,
her eyes searching his for consent.

Plankton's antennas twitch, his
body still tense, but he nods.
It's a small gesture, but it's
enough. Karen's hand settles on
his shoulder, her touch feather-light.

He flinches at first, his body
remembering the pain of the
unexpected touch, but her gentle
pressure is a soothing balm.
He leans into it slightly, his
body language speaking louder
than his words ever could.

Her hand on his shoulder is
the bridge between them, a
testament to their love and
understanding. Plankton's breathing
gradually deepens, his body
softening into the mattress. Karen's
touch is a lullaby, a promise that
everything will be okay.

The room is a cocoon of quiet,
their breaths the only sound.
Plankton's eye droops, his
body finally succumbing to
exhaustion. The weight of his
head shifts slightly, his trust
in Karen unspoken but palpable.

Her hand remains on his
shoulder, a gentle reminder of
her presence. She watches
his chest rise and fall, his
body slowly relaxing under
the soft blanket of sleep. His
features smooth out, the lines
of anger and frustration
disappearing into the pillow.

As his breaths become
even, Karen can't help but feel
a mix of sadness and love.
Her heart goes out to him,
this man she's spent her life
with, who fights battles she
can never fully understand.

The room is a sanctuary
of quiet, the air thick with the
scent of their unspoken
words. Plankton's hand twitches
slightly, and she wonders if he's
dreaming of a world where the
noise isn't so loud, where the
colors aren't so bright, where
his mind can rest without
fear of being bombarded.

Karen watches as her
husband's chest rises and falls,
his breaths deepening into
the steady rhythm of sleep.
The lines of his face relax,
his antennas droop slightly.

Her gaze shifts to the
shattered trophy on the floor,
the sand scattered like a
tiny desert. The room is a
testament to the storm that
was his sensory overload.

Karen's hand tightens slightly
on Plankton's shoulder, her
heart aching for both her
husband and son. She knows the
road ahead won't be easy, that
they'll need to navigate this
new terrain with care. But as
she watches Plankton's chest
rise and fall, she feels a
spark of hope.

new catch in my chip Chip Plankton II vii

JUST A TOUCH ix
(Autistic author)


Plankton's antennae quiver with
frustration. "It's about the order,"
he repeats, his voice strained.
"Everything needs order."

Squidward sighs, his tentacles
flapping in exasperation. "Look,
I don't know what's gotten into
you, but we need to get these
dishes done, and we can't do that
if you're going to micromanage
every single one!"

Plankton's antennae droop.
"Needs thorough..."

Squidward throws his tentacles
up in the air. "I don't care
about your 'thoroughness' right
now!" he exclaims. "Just let me do
my job!"

Plankton's antennae flatten.
"No!" he shouts, his voice echoing
off the stainless steel walls.

Squidward turns, his tentacles
poised for a fight. "What is your
problem?" he snaps. Plankton's
eye darts around, his heart racing.
He can't explain the sudden
urgency, the need for order that's
consuming him. The need to be
perfectly cleansed without blemish.

"It's just... it's just..." Plankton
stammers, his antennae drooping.

Squidward's eyes narrow, his
tentacles still. "What's the matter
with you?" he asks, his voice
edged with irritation. Plankton
swallows, his throat tight. "Needs
good.."

But before he can say more,
his gaze locks onto a speck of
dirt on a plate. The world
around him fades away as he
reaches for it, his movements
slow and deliberate.

Squidward watches him, his
expression a mix of confusion
and annoyance. "What is
that?" he asks, his tone sharp.

Plankton's antennae twitch, his
eye focusing on the speck.
"Dirt," he whispers, his voice
laced with distress. "Has to be
gone." His hand shakes as he
reaches for the plate, his mind
consumed by the need to remove
the imperfection.

Squidward snatches the plate,
his tentacles firm. "It's just a
tiny speck!" he says, his voice
loud. Plankton's antennae shoot
up, his body stiffening. "Can't
have dirt," he murmurs.

The room seems to close in,
his heart hammering in his chest.
The need for order, for
everything to be just so, is a
wave crushing down on him.
Squidward's face swims in
his vision, a blur of impatience.
"Squidward," he says, his voice
steadying. "It's dirty."

Squidward's grip on the plate
doesn't waver. "It's not dirty,"
he says, his tone firm. "It's a
tiny speck."

But to Plankton, that speck
is a boulder, a symbol of the
chaos he can't control. His
antennas quiver as he stares
at the offending spot, his
breaths coming in short, sharp
gasps. The world narrows to just
the dish, the speck, and the
overwhelming need to erase it.

Squidward reaches out a tentacle,
to move him aside, reaching
to touch Plankton's shoulder. But
before he can make contact,
Plankton flinches, his eye
snapping up to meet Squidward's.

"Don't," he says, his voice
sharp. "No touch."
"Then move so I can mix
the dishes.."
The words hit Plankton like a
wave, sending him spiraling.
He can't explain it, but the
thought of Squidward's tentacle
touching him sends a shiver
down his spine. But the only
alternative is to result in
disordered dishes!

Squidward's grip on the plate
doesn't change, his tentacle
poised to push Plankton aside.
"Please," Plankton whispers, his
voice trembling. "No..."

SpongeBob watches from a
distance, his smile fading.
He's noticed the changes
in Plankton, the way his
movements have become so
precise, his speech so formal.
But he doesn't know what to say,
what to do.

Squidward's tentacle hovers,
his gaze flicking from the
plate to Plankton's face. "I'm
in charge, not you!" He says
shoving Plankton as he mixes
the dishes. That's it.

The room spins around Plankton,
his vision blurring with the
sudden assault. The clatter of
plates, the smell of grease,
the touch of Squidward's tentacle—
it's too much. His body reacts
before his brain can catch up, 
the partygoers' laughter
a distant echo in Plankton's ringing
ears.

"Plankton?" Squidward asks,
his voice a distant rumble as
SpongeBob comes in.

Plankton's vaguely aware of
his surroundings, but it's all just
white noise, his gaze going
blank as the absence seizure
starts up.

new just a touch neurodisability ix

CATCH IN MY CHIP viii
(Autistic author)

The room is bathed in a soft
moonlight, the shadows playing
across Plankton's sleeping features. His
body, once taut with tension,
has relaxed into the embrace
of the bed, his arm curled
around a pillow. His antennas
now rest gently on the
pillowcase, no longer quivering
with agitation.

Karen watches him sleep, her
thoughts a jumble of worry and
love. She knows he's tired, that the
weight of the world can be too
much for him to bear at times. But
she also knows that he's strong,
that he'll face tomorrow with
determination.

The first light of dawn filters
through the curtains, painting the
room in soft shades of pink and
orange. Karen gently squeezes his
shoulder before standing, her eyes
never leaving his peaceful face.
She knows that today will be a
day of apologies and
understanding, of teaching Chip
about his dad's autism and how to
navigate the world around him.

With a soft sigh, she heads to
Chip's room, her footsteps silent
on the cool floor. She opens the door
to find him sitting up in bed,
his eyes red and puffy from crying.
He looks at her.

"Is Dad okay?" he asks, his
voice thick with sleep and the
remnants of his earlier distress.

Karen nods, her eyes filled
with a quiet determination. "We'll
talk to him when he wakes up."

The words hang in the air, a gentle
reminder of the conversation that
needs to be had. Chip nods, his eyes
still puffy from crying. He clutches
his pillow, the fabric damp from
his tears.

"But what do I do?" he asks, his
voice small and scared. "How do
I make sure I don't make him
upset again?"

Karen sits on the edge of the bed,
her hand stroking his. "You
just keep being you, Chip," she
says, her voice warm. "Daddy loves
you, and we'll learn together how
to make sure he doesn't get
overwhelmed."

Chip nods, his eyes searching
hers for reassurance. "But what
about my trophy?" he asks, his
voice still shaky.

Karen's hand stops, her gaze
dropping to the shard of plastic
he holds tightly in his fist. "We'll
fix it," she says, her voice
filled with conviction. "Together."

The promise brings a small
smile to Chip's face, his eyes
lighting up. "Really?"

Karen nods, her own smile
genuine. "Of course, honey,"
she says. "We're a family. We
stick together."

With that, she stands up, her
body weary but her spirit
resolute. The room feels
lighter somehow, the air less
charged with tension.

Chip clambers out of bed, his
small hand reaching for hers.
Together, they walk to the
bedroom, the shattered
remnants of the trophy
glinting in the early light.

Plankton is still asleep,
his chest rising and falling in
a steady rhythm. Chip
looks at him, his eyes filled
with a mix of sadness and
curiosity.

"We'll talk to him when he
wakes up," Karen says, her voice
soft.

They sit beside Plankton's
bed, the room still and quiet.
Chip's hand trembles slightly as
he holds the broken piece
of trophy. "But what if he's still
mad?" he whispers, his voice
barely above the silence.

Karen's hand squeezes his.
"He'll understand," she says,
her voice filled with a calm
certainty. "He loves you, and he
knows you didn't mean to hurt
him."

The words are a gentle balm
to Chip's fears, but the doubt
lingers. He nods, his gaze
never leaving his father.

"Remember, Chip," Karen says, her
voice a soft whisper. "Daddy's
brain is different."

Chip nods, his eyes fixed on
his dad's sleeping form. He's
seen Plankton stressed before,
but never like this. He wants to
show him love.

With tentative steps, he moves
closer to the bed, his heart
beating a staccato in his chest.
He reaches out, his hand shaking
slightly as he hovers it over
his dad's arm.

"Chip," Karen whispers, her hand
covering his. "Remember, gentle."
Her words are a gentle
reminder of the invisible lines
that can be crossed.

Chip nods, his eyes on Plankton's
peaceful face. He takes a deep
breath, his hand steadying. Slowly,
so slowly it's almost imperceptible,
he brings his palm to rest
on Plankton's forearm, his touch
as light as a feather.

Plankton's body tenses for a
moment, a reflexive reaction to
the sudden contact. Chip holds
his breath, waiting, hoping.
Then, almost imperceptibly, he feels
his dad's arm relax under his hand.

"It's okay," Karen whispers, her
voice a gentle breeze. "He's okay."

Chip's hand remains hovering, his
heart in his throat. Plankton's
body remains still, his breathing
even. Karen's touch is a guide,
her hand resting on Chip's.

"It's okay," she whispers, her voice
a soft encouragement. "You can
do it."

With a deep breath, Chip's hand
descends, his fingertips brushing
against Plankton's arm.

Plankton's antennas twitch.
Karen watches, her eyes never
leaving her husband's face.

Chip's hand hovers, his
heart racing. He wants to
reassure his dad, to let him
know he's there. He's
learned about space and
understanding, but all he
can think of is the warmth of
his touch, the comfort
he craves to give.

His fingertips graze Plankton's
arm, the contact so light it's
barely there. He watches,
waiting for a reaction, for a
sign that he's crossed the line.
But Plankton remains still,
his breathing unchanged.

Encouraged, Chip presses down
slightly, his hand a soft
weight on his father's arm.
He feels the warmth of his
skin, the steady pulse beneath.
It's a tentative connection,
fragile as spider silk.

Plankton's antennas quiver,
but his body remains still.
Chip's heart hammers in his chest,
his breaths shallow and quick.
He's afraid to move, afraid
to break the spell.

Karen watches, her eyes
filled with a quiet hope.
The air in the room is thick
with anticipation.

Chip's hand hovers over
Plankton's arm, trembling
slightly with nerves and
love. He's unsure if this
small gesture will be met
with anger or acceptance.

Karen's gaze is a silent
cheer, urging him on. Plankton's
breaths remain steady, his body
still. Chip's heart is a
drum in his chest, each beat
a silent plea for
understanding.

With a tremble, he lets his hand
settle, his fingertips barely
grazing the fabric of the blanket.
He feels the heat of Plankton's skin,
the rise and fall of his chest.
It's a gentle touch, the lightest
of caresses.

Karen's hand remains on his,
guiding him, encouraging him.
Plankton's breaths remain steady,
his body still. Chip's eyes
are wide with hope, his hand
poised above the blanket.

With a tremble, he lets his
fingers come to rest on the
cotton, feeling the warmth
of his father's arm beneath.
He holds his breath, waiting
for a reaction, for any sign
that he's done the right thing.

Plankton's body remains still,
his breathing unchanged.
Karen's eyes are glued to
his face, watching for any
hint of distress. But there's
none. Only the gentle rise
and fall of his chest, a testament
to his deep sleep.

Chip's hand is a butterfly
landing on Plankton's arm, his
fingers fluttering slightly
against the warmth of his
skin. He's never felt so
exposed, so vulnerable. But
his love for his dad is stronger
than his fear.

Karen watches the silent
exchange, her heart in her throat.
The moment feels sacred, a
testament to their growing
understanding of each other.

Chip's hand remains on Plankton's
arm, the warmth of his touch a
promise of comfort and love.
He's afraid to move, afraid to
disrupt the delicate balance.
Karen's hand is a soft presence,
guiding him, giving him
the courage to stay.

Plankton's breaths are slow
and even, his body relaxed.
Chip wonders if he's dreaming, if he's
in a world where the sensory
overload doesn't exist. His heart
swells with hope, with the
desire to protect his dad from
the world's harshness.

Karen's hand on his is
a gentle reminder that he's not
alone. She gives him a small,
encouraging nod, her eyes filled
with understanding. He takes a
deep breath, his hand moving
slowly, so slowly, to cover his dad's.

The moment their skin
touches, it's like a dam breaks.
Chip feels a rush of warmth, a
connection that's been missing.
He squeezes Plankton's arm lightly,
his heart pounding. He's afraid to
move, afraid to breathe too loudly.

Karen's eyes never leave
Plankton's face, watching for any
sign of distress. But his features
remain relaxed, his antennas
still. The room is a sanctuary
of quiet, the only sound their
melded breaths. Chip feels a
lump form in his throat, his eyes
welling with tears.

He whispers, "Thank you," to
his mom, his voice shaky with
emotion. She nods, her hand
still covering his. "Remember,"
she says, her voice a soft
caress. "Gentle."

With trembling fingers, Chip
tucks the blanket closer around
Plankton, the fabric smoothing
over his shoulders. It's a
tiny act of love, a silent
apology. He wants to crawl into
the bed beside him, to wrap
his arms around his dad..

He looks up at Karen, his
eyes pleading. "Can I?"

Karen nods, her smile sad
but understanding. "Just be
careful not to wake him,"
she whispers.

With the grace of a
cat burglar, Chip slides into the
bed, his movements slow and
calculated. He's careful not
to disturb the sheets, not to
make a sound that could break
the tranquil silence.

Plankton's arm is a warm
mound beside him, and he
reaches out tentatively, his
fingers seeking the comfort
of his dad's skin. He finds it,
his hand coming to rest lightly
on the crook of his elbow.
The connection feels right,
like finding a piece of himself
he didn't know was lost.

He snuggles closer, his head
resting on the pillow beside
Plankton's.

Karen watches, her heart
swelling with love for her son.
"It's ok," she whispers. "Just be
gentle."

new catch in my chip Chip Plankton II viii

CATCH IN MY CHIP xi
(Autistic author)

Karen leans in closer to
Plankton, her voice a gentle
whisper. "It's okay," she says,
her eyes filled with warmth.
"You're okay." Plankton's breaths
are shallow, his chest rising
and falling with effort as he
shakes.

The room is a cocoon of
quiet, the outside world
muted by the thick walls
of their sanctuary. Karen's
hand is a constant, her
touch a reminder that he's
not alone. Plankton's gaze
flits to Chip, the question in
his eye unspoken.

"Chip," Karen says, her voice
a balm to Plankton's raw
nerves. "Your dad is in need
of some quiet time, okay?"
Her words are a gentle nudge,
guiding them through the
delicate dance of recovery.

Chip nods, his eyes never
leaving Plankton's face. "I
understand," he murmurs, though
his heart feels like it's been
tied in knots. He swallows
his questions, his fear for
his dad a lump in his throat.

Plankton's antennas twitch
slightly, his breathing
easing a fraction. He nods, the
gesture almost imperceptible. "Thank
you," he whispers, his voice
raspy with exhaustion. The
relief in his eye is palpable.

Chip watches, his own
emotions a tapestry of confusion
and concern. He wants to
reach out, to hold his dad close,
but he knows it's not the time.
Instead, he squeezes Karen's hand,
his silent promise to be
patient and understanding.

Plankton's eye closes, his body
slowly relaxing into the pillow.
The ringing in his ears
fades, the world coming back
into focus like a camera
lens slowly adjusting to the light.
The warmth of Karen's hand
on his forehead is a comfort,
his anchor in the sea of
sensation.

Her voice is a gentle lullaby,
guiding him back to shore.
"You're okay," she repeats,
each word a wave lapping
against the shore of his mind.
The room stops spinning, the
colors coalescing into
distinct shapes.

Plankton's gaze darts around
the room, seeking solace.
His eye lands on a spot on the
wall, a patch of
unblemished white. He focuses
on it, his breaths coming
slower, deeper. It's a sanctuary,
a place of peace amidst
the chaos. The spot becomes
his beacon, the world around
it a blurry periphery.

Karen's hand on his forehead
is cool, a balm to his racing
thoughts. "Look at the spot,"
she whispers, her voice a
soothing melody. "Just the
spot." He nods, his eye
locking onto the white, his
breaths syncing with hers.

The spot is a lifeline in the
storm, a beacon of calm in
his sensory chaos. Plankton
stares at it, willing the
world to recede. The colors
around it blur, the sounds
of the room dull to a
whisper. It's just him and
the spot, a silent pact
between them to conquer
the tempest.

Karen's voice is a gentle
wave, lapping at the edges
of his mind. "When you're
ready, take a deep breath.
In, out. Slowly." She
guides him through the
exercise, her tone soothing.
Plankton tries to focus,
his body responding to the
familiar rhythm.

The spot on the wall
becomes clearer, the edges
sharper. The world around it
softens, the colors bleeding
back into the fabric of the
room. His breathing slows,
his chest rising and falling
in time with Karen's gentle
prompts. The spot is his
sanctuary, a bastion of
calm in the overwhelming
storm.

But then, it starts. The
tic, a twitch of his antenna.
A reminder that his mind
is not entirely his own,
his body a marionette to the
whims of his neurodiversity.
Plankton's antennas begin to
still, his body gradually
relinquishing the tension
that had held it hostage. The
tic in his left antenna, a
quick spasm that had
become more frequent.

Karen's eyes don't leave his
face, her gaze a silent
support. She knows the
dance of his tics all too
well, a choreography
that they've lived with
for years. She squeezes his
hand, her touch a silent
promise to stand by him
through the storm. It's
his body's way of releasing
the tension that builds
up like pressure in a volcano.
The tic is a tide, rising
and falling, unpredictable and
uncontrollable.

Plankton's head jerks to
the side, the sudden
movement a stark contrast
to the stillness of the
room. Chip's eyes go wide
with concern.

"It's okay," Karen murmurs,
squeezing Plankton's hand. "It's
just your body. It's okay."
Her voice is a lullaby, a gentle
reminder that he's not alone.
The tic subsides, his
antennas returning to their
usual state.

Chip's eyes dart from his
dad to his mom, his mind
whirring with questions. "What
was that?" he asks, his voice
quiet, afraid to disturb the
fragile peace.

Karen's hand moves to
Plankton's antenna, her thumb
tracing the line of his twitch.
"It's just his body's way
of dealing with the
overstimulation," she
explains, her voice calm
but tinged with sadness. "It's
a tic, Chip. It's part of
his autism."

Chip nods, his eyes wide
with understanding. "Will
he be okay?" he asks, his
voice small in the face of his
father's struggle.

Karen's grip on Plankton's
hand tightens, her voice a
steady stream of comfort. "Yes,
he will," she says with
confidence. "This happens
sometimes. We just need to be
patient and give him time."

Plankton's antennas still
slightly, the tremor a
reminder of the storm
that had passed through
his mind. His breaths come
more evenly now, the spot on
the wall his silent companion
as he finds his way back
to the world.

Chip's eyes are full of
questions, his heart heavy with
concern. He watches as his
dad's body relaxes, the tension
easing like a retreating tide.
"I'll get him some water,"
Karen says, her voice a
whisper. She squeezes Plankton's
hand once more before rising,
leaving the two of them
alone in the quiet.

Plankton's eye meets Chip's,
his gaze apologetic.

Chip swallows his fear.

"Daddy?" he whispers, his
voice cracking. Plankton's
eye flutters open, the panic
gone, replaced by a
fatigue that seems to
weigh down his very soul.

"I'm okay," he manages,
his voice a rasp. "Just tired."

Chip nods, his hand
tentatively reaching out to
touch his dad's arm. The
contact is tentative, a
question and a comfort all
in one. Plankton's antennas
twitch again, but this time
it's with the beginnings of
a smile. "Thanks, buddy," he
says, his voice hoarse.

The room is a cocoon of
silence, the air thick with
unspoken words. Plankton
swallows hard, the weight
of his own emotions pressing
down on his chest like a
leaden blanket. "I'm sorry," he
whispers, his gaze never
leaving Chip's.

Chip's eyes are pools of
concern, the question in his
eyes unspoken but potent.
"For what?" he asks, his
voice barely above a whisper.

Plankton's antennas droop
slightly, his eye reflecting the
shame he feels. "For scaring
you," he says, his voice
hoarse. "For not being
able to control it."

Chip's hand tightens around
his dad's arm, his eyes
brimming with tears he's too
proud to shed. "It's okay,
Daddy," he says, the words a
soft whisper. "You don't have
to be sorry."

Plankton's smile is weak,
his antennas still. "I know," he
replies, his voice a
whisper. "But it's hard not
to be." He swallows, his
throat dry from the battle
his body has just endured.

Karen returns with a
glass of water, her steps
silent on the soft carpet. She
hands it to Plankton, who
gratefully takes a sip, the
cool liquid soothing his
parched throat. The tension in
the room is a palpable
entity, a third person in
their silent conversation.

"What happened?" Chip asks,
his voice small, the question
a balloon of curiosity
floating in the heavy air.

"It's just part of who
I am," Plankton says, his
voice still hoarse from his
episode. He takes another
sip of water, the coldness
of it a stark contrast to
his fevered skin. "My
autism, it makes my brain
work differently."

Chip's hand is still on
his arm, a silent
offer of comfort. "But
you're okay now," he
says, his voice hopeful.
Plankton nods, the
motion almost imperceptible.

"Thanks to Mom," he murmurs, his
eye swiveling to Karen, who
smiles at him with a mix of
relief and love. "She's the
reason I made it through."

Chip looks at Karen with a newfound
respect, his young mind trying to
comprehend the gravity of what he's
just witnessed. "You're both
strong," he says, his voice
steady, the fear momentarily
pushed aside by admiration.

Karen's smile is a soft glow,
the pride in her eyes unmistakable.
"We all have our moments," she
says, her hand resting on
Plankton's shoulder. "It's
how we face them that makes
us who we are." She glances
at the clock, the ticking a
reminder of the time they've lost
to the sensory storm. "Why don't
you go play for a bit, Chip?
Your dad needs some rest, and I
think we could all use a
moment to process."

Chip nods, his eyes
still filled with unspoken
questions. But he trusts
his mom, and he can see the
exhaustion etched into
Plankton's face. He slides off
the bed, his feet silent on
the floor. With one last look
at his dad, he heads for the
door, the weight of the
moment heavy on his
shoulders.

Karen watches him go,
her heart aching for the
fear he must be feeling.
But she knows that with
time and patience, he'll
understand. He'll grow to
see his dad not as a
mystery to be solved, but as
a person to be loved and
supported, just like anyone
else.

new catch in my chip Chip Plankton II xi

AUTISM IN THE PLANKTON FAMILY ix


(Autistic author)



Mr. Krabs knew that
his rivalry with Plankton had
always been about more than
just the Krabby Patty. It was
about pride, about being the
best, about proving his worth.

But as he looked at Plankton,
his tiny form swallowed by the
large couch cushions, he
realized that none of it mattered
compared to the pain he had
caused.

The next day, Plankton found
himself sitting in the waiting
room of a dentist's office, to 
get an X-Ray. Karen sat by him.

"You ok?" she asked, her
voice gentle. Plankton nodded, his
antennas twitching nervously.

The door to the exam room
opened, and a cheerful dolphin
dental hygienist waved them in.
"Good morning, Plankton!" she
chirped. "Ready for your X-ray?"

Plankton's antennae shot up
instinctively at the sudden
noise, his body stiffening.
Karen squeezed his hand gently,
offering reassurance. "It's okay,"
she murmured. "We're here."

The dolphin's smile was bright,
but it was the softness in her
eyes that helped Plankton
relax slightly. They had
been informed of his condition,
and she approached with a gentle
caution.

"We'll take it slow," she said,
her voice a gentle melody.
"We're just getting an x-ray
okay?"

Plankton nodded, his antennae
still quivering slightly.

The dolphin hygienist, named
Delfina, guided him into the
exam room.

The room was a symphony of
white, a stark contrast to the
cozy confines of the Chum
Bucket. Plankton felt his heart
racing in his chest, his antennae
twitching as he took in the
unfamiliar surroundings.

Delfina the hygienist
guided Plankton gently to the chair,
her eyes filled with understanding.
"Just sit back and relax," she said,
her voice a gentle wave washing
over him.

Plankton did his best to
remain calm. The hum of the
machinery was a constant
reminder of his sensory
overload, but he focused on
Karen's soothing presence beside
him, her hand resting on his shoulder.

Delfina moved with grace
and precision, her movements
fluid and unthreatening. She
explained each step of the
process to him, her voice a soft
lullaby that helped to soothe his
nervous system. "Open wide,"
she cooed, her eyes gentle as
she placed the X-ray sensor
in his mouth.

Plankton's antennae trembled
slightly, but he did as she
instructed, his teeth clamping
down on the cold, plastic device.
The whir of the X-ray machine was
like a tornado in his ears, but
he focused on Karen's calming
presence beside him. Her hand
remained on his shoulder, a
grounding force amidst the chaos
of sensations.

As the X-ray was completed
Plankton took a deep
breath, his antennae slowly
unfurling.

The doctor, a wise old
sea turtle named Dr. Dolittle,
entered the room, his eyes
behind thick glasses scanning
the X-ray results. Plankton
tried to read his expression,
his antennae quivering with
anticipation. Dr. Dolittle's
face remained neutral as he
studied the images, but Plankton
couldn't help the anxiety that
bubbled up within him.

"Well, Plankton," the doctor
said, his voice deep and soothing.
"It appears that you need to
have your wisdom teeth out.
They'll potentially cause issues.."

Plankton's antennae shot up in
panic, his grip on the chair
tightening. The thought of
surgery was overwhelming, a
tsunami of fear crashing into the
shores of his already-fragile
nervous system.

He froze, his body a statue
of terror. The room around him
was a blur of colors and
shapes, the sounds of the
dental office a cacophony.

Karen's hand squeezed his
shoulder, a silent reminder that
he wasn't alone.

Sponge Bob sat in the corner,
his eyes wide with concern.
He had accompanied Plankton
for moral support, but the sight
of his friend's distress was
painful to watch. "It'll be okay,"
he murmured, his voice a soft
whisper in the tense silence.

But Plankton couldn't hear him.
The words were lost in the
symphony of his own fear.
His antennae twitched rapidly,
his breath shallow.

Karen turned to Sponge Bob,
her expression soft. "It's okay,"
she assured him, her voice low
and calming. "He's just processing
the words sinking in."

Sponge Bob nodded, his eyes
never leaving Plankton's
distressed form. "I'm here, buddy,"
he offered, his voice a gentle
wave in the storm of emotions.

But it was Karen's voice that
cut through the chaos, her words
a lighthouse in the fog. "Plankton,"
she said, her tone firm but
soothing, "you just breathe. We'll
make sure of everything."

Plankton nodded, his antennae
still quivering, closing his eye
as he took a shaky breath.

Dr. Dolittle noticed Plankton's
distress and offered a gentle
smile. "Don't worry, Plankton.
We'll make sure you're nice
and sleepy before we do anything.
It's a simple extraction, and you
won't feel a thing."

The room grew quiet as the
doctor's words sank in. Plankton
was terrified of the unknown,
his mind racing with images of
sharp tools and pain. His antennae
twitched uncontrollably, and his
body began to tremble.

Karen leaned in, her voice
calm and reassuring. "It's like
going to sleep," she said, her
eyes locked with his. "You won't
feel anything, I promise."

Plankton's antennae quivered
slightly as he processed her
words.

"We're going to give you a
little something to help you
sleep," Delfina explained, her
voice a gentle hum. "It'll be
like a nap, and when you wake
up, it'll all be over."

Plankton's antennae stilled
slightly, his breathing slowing
as he nodded.

The room was a whirlwind of
activity as Delfina and Dr.
Dolittle prepared for the
procedure. Sponge Bob's
hands were clenched into fists
of worry, his eyes never
leaving Plankton's.

Karen noticed his distress and
squeezed his shoulder. "It'll
be okay," she whispered.
"Remember, we're here for
support."

The scent of antiseptic
filled the room, making Plankton's
eyes water, but he nodded, his
trust in his friends
overriding his fear.

Delfina approached with a
clear liquid. "Drink this," she
instructed, her voice a gentle
whisper. "It'll help you relax."

Plankton's antennae quivered but
he did as she said, the liquid
sliding down his throat with an
eerie calmness.

As the anesthetic took hold,
his thoughts grew fuzzy, like
the edges of a distant memory.
He felt his body begin to
relax, the tension in his
muscles dissipating like a
wave retreating from the shore.

The world grew dark around him,
the sounds of the dental office
becoming muffled whispers. The
weight of his fear lifted
slightly as the gentle embrace
of oblivion beckoned.

They administered the i.v.,
the cold sting of the needle
quickly forgotten as the warmth
of the sedative spread through
his tiny body. Plankton felt his
muscles go slack, his antennae
falling limply to his side.

The room grew hazier, the
colors and shapes melting like
crayons on wet paper. He felt
his consciousness slipping
away, the fear retreating with
it. Karen's hand remained on his
shoulder, a beacon of warmth
and comfort in the cold, sterile
environment.

As Plankton succumbed to the
pull of sleep, he heard the
muted voices of Karen and Sponge
Bob, their words a gentle lullaby.
Their presence was a warm blanket
wrapped around him, shielding
him from the cold, metal world
of the dental chair.

Sponge Bob watched as Plankton's
tiny form grew still, his antennae
finally at peace. He looked
up at Karen, her eyes filled with
a mix of relief and anxiety.
"He's okay," she whispered, her
voice a soothing wave.

The room grew quieter as Plankton
fell into a deep slumber,
his antennae finally still, as he's
completely asleep before they
began the extraction.


Delfina checked his vital signs,
her flippers moving with the
precision of a ballet dancer.
"He's out," she murmured to Dr.
Dolittle, who nodded in
satisfaction.

new autism in the plankton family dentistcore dentalcore ix

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

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

"Plankton‽"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

JUST A TOUCH iv
(Autistic author)


The next day, Karen woke up
to a meticulously organized
kitchen. Plankton was already
up, his movements sharp and
focused as he arranged the
cutlery in the drawer. "Good
morning, Plankton," she said,
her voice tentative.

He looked up, his expression
neutral. "Good morning, Karen,"
he replied, his voice monotone.
Her heart squeezed. This was
not the man who used to greet
her with a cheeky smile and a sigh 
every morning. But she pushed the
sorrow aside and focused on
the task at hand: making
breakfast.

As she began to prep the
meal, Plankton hovered nearby,
his antennae twitching.

"Would you like to help me?"
she asked, holding out a spatula.
He took it with both hands,
his movements mechanical as he
followed her instructions to the
letter. The sizzle of the
chum on the pan seemed to
calm him, his gaze flicking
between her face and the food.

Plankton's meticulousness
extended to their breakfast.
Every ingredient measured to
the exact milliliter, every
step in the recipe followed
without deviation. Karen
watched him, a mix of amazement
and sadness swirling inside her.

As they sat down to eat,
Karen noticed his eye darting
between his plate and the clock.
"Is something wrong?" she
asked, trying to keep her voice
light. Plankton's gaze snapped
to hers, his antennae still. "Must eat at 7:00,"
he said, his voice tight. "It's okay,
we're a little late," she said,
trying to soothe him. "But we're
together, and that's what
matters."

Plankton took a bite of
his perfectly arranged breakfast,
his eye not leaving the clock.
"Seven minutes, thirty-four seconds
until 7:00," he murmured. Karen's
throat tightened, but she forced
a smile. "We'll be done before
then," she assured him.

The meal was finished in
silence, Plankton's precision
contrasting with Karen's
clumsy attempts to match his rhythm.
As they cleared the table,
his movements were a dance
of order and control, while
hers were stilted, filled with
nervous glances.

In the living room, Plankton
moved to his favorite chair,
his eye immediately drawn to
the bookshelf. His gaze
flitted over the books. Karen
watched, her heart heavy with
the weight of their new reality.

The doctor had suggested
that engaging in familiar activities
could help with the transition.
Hoping to ease the tension, she
offered, "Would you like a work
book?"

Plankton nodded, his antennae
still. Karen retrieved one from
his collection, handing it to
him with care. He took it in his
hands. It was clear that
his intellect had not been
diminished, but rather had been
reshaped by his condition.

Moments later, Hanna
came in. She knows
Karen's married, but
she doesn't know any
thing else about Plankton.

Hanna's smile was wide
and welcoming as she
saw the two of them. "Hi,
I'm Karen's friend Hanna,"
she said, extending a hand.
Plankton looked at it and
then went back to his book.

Karen stepped in, her voice
soft. "Plankton, this is
Hanna," she said, gesturing
between them. "Hanna, this
is my husband, Plankton."
Hanna's smile faltered
slightly, noticing the
distance in Plankton's gaze.

"Hi, Plankton," Hanna said,
her tone gentle. "It's nice
to meet you." Plankton's antennae
twitched, his gaze shifting
to her briefly before returning
to the book.

Karen watched the
interaction, her heart racing.
How would Hanna react to him?
Will Plankton like her? Would she
still want to be friends with
her?

Hanna looked from Karen
to Plankton and back, her smile
slightly puzzled. "Is he okay?"
she asked quietly. Karen nodded.
"He's just focused" she said, her voice
hitching. "I'll go fix us up some
chumbalaya."

After Karen left, Hanna sat
right up next to Plankton.

"Hi, Plankton," she said again.
He glanced at her, then back
at his book. She waited, leaning
forward slightly.

Finally, he spoke without looking up.
"Hello, Hanna. Karen's friend. Good."
It was a statement, not
a question or a greeting. Her curiosity
was piqued by this odd behavior.

Hanna watched as Plankton
continued to study the book, his
tiny hands flipping pages with a
quickness she hadn't seen before.
He was like a different creature,
his movements calculated. She knew
something was off, but she wasn't sure
what. So she decides to try getting him
to interact.

"What are you reading?"
she asked, leaning closer.
Plankton's antennae shot up.
"It's a book," he replied,
his voice flat.

Hanna laughed, mistaking
his bluntness for shyness.
"I know that," she said, her tone
playful as she leaned closer.
"But what's it about?"

Plankton's antennae
twitched, his eye narrowing
slightly. "It's about... puzzles?"

Hanna's eyes widened. "Puzzles?"
she repeated, leaning in even closer.
Her proximity was making him uncomfortable,
his body stiffening like a board.
"What kind of puzzles?"

Plankton's gaze darted to her
before returning to the book.
"Word's," he said, his voice
sharp as he focused on the page.
The way he said it was a clear
message to back off, but Hanna
was oblivious to the cues.

"Oh, words puzzles!" she exclaimed,
clapping her hands together.
"I love those! Can I see?"
Without waiting for an answer,
she reached for the book, brushing
against his hand. Plankton
flinched, his antennae drooping.

Hanna's cheerfulness didn't wane
as she flipped through the pages,
exclaiming over the puzzles.
"This looks like FUN!" she said, 
not taking note of how Plankton's
body was taut with tension.

"It's a good book," Plankton said,
his voice devoid of emotion.
He was trying to be polite, but
the sensory overload was
building inside him. The way
she talked, the way she moved,
the sound of her voice—it was
all too much.

Hanna, still beaming,
turned the page and pointed at
a particularly complex puzzle.
"Look at this one! Can you do it?"
she challenged, her finger
tapping the page impatiently.
Plankton's eye 
darted to the puzzle,
his mind racing. 
He didn't want to disappoint
but the pressure
was too intense. 
He can't think!

"Sure," he stuttered,
his voice small. 
Hanna clapped her hands, 
excitedly. "Great! Let's see
how fast you can solve it!"

Plankton felt his heart
racing, his antennae drooping.
The pressure to perform
was suffocating him.
He looked at the puzzle,
his mind racing through possible
word combinations, his eye
darting from letter to letter, but
Hanna interrupts him again.

"Come on, Plankton! I bet
you're really good at these!"
Her excitement was palpable,
but Plankton could only feel
his chest tightening. He wanted
to scream, to tell her to stop,
but the words remained trapped
behind the wall of his new
social ineptitude.

He took the book, his
hands shaking slightly as
his eye scanned the puzzle.
The letters swam before him,
his mind racing to keep up with
the barrage of sensory input.

"Don't be shy," she said,
nudging him. "You can do it!"

Plankton felt the weight of
Hanna's enthusiasm like an
anvil on his shoulders. His
grip on the book tightened.
He had always been good at
word puzzles, but now they
felt like a labyrinth with no
exit. The room spun around
him, the pressure to perform
building like a storm in
his chest.

But Hanna's energy
was like a tsunami, unstoppable.
"You know, I used to be really
bad at these," she said,
sitting closer, her knees
touching his. "But I got so much
better with practice!"

Plankton felt his skin
crawl, the need to escape
intensifying. He was trapped
in a conversation he hadn't
asked for, with a person who
was oblivious to his plight.
He took a deep breath,
his eye scanning the room
for a way out.

"How about we try one
together?" Hanna suggested,
her voice bubbly. Plankton's
heart hammered in his chest.

Hanna didn't seem to notice
his distress, her screen shining
with excitement. "It'll be
fun! Just tell me the letters
you see, and I'll guess the words!"

Plankton's antennae drooped,
his shoulders tense. He
wanted to scream, to tell
her to leave him alone. But
his newfound condition made
the words catch in his throat.

"Fine," he said, his voice
barely above a whisper. Hanna's
screen lit up, and she leaned in
even closer. "Great!" she exclaimed.
"I'll start with 'C'. What
do you see?"

Plankton's gaze remained
steadfast on the book, his
eye darting from letter to letter.
He can't see anything with all...

Hanna's voice cut through
his thoughts like a knife,
sharp and demanding. "C'mon,
Plankton, don't be shy! Tell me
what you see!" Her hand reached
out, grabbing his arm. The sudden
touch sent a jolt through him.

Plankton flinched, his
body reacting before his mind
could form a coherent thought.
His antennae shot up, and he
pulled away, knocking over
the book in the process. The
sound echoed in the room like
thunder.

Hanna's smile faltered,
confusion clouding her features.
"What's wrong?" she asked,
genuinely concerned as she
cups his head; and that's it.

The dam bursts. Plankton's
body goes rigid, his
eye wide with pain. He can't
take it anymore—the touch,
the noise, the pressure, his hand
flailing to shove her away.

"STOP!" he screams, his
voice cracking.

Hanna's hand retreats as if burned.
Her smile fades, replaced by a
look of shock and concern. "What
happened?" she asks, turning him
towards her with her hands on his
shoulders. Which is when he stops
moving, unblinking as Karen
comes back in.

Karen sets the chumbalaya aside
as she notices his unresponsiveness.

"Plankton?" she calls out,
concern etching her voice.
Hanna turns to her, her eyes wide.
"I don't think he's okay," she says,
her hand hovering over his shoulder.

Karen's heart drops as she
rushes over, her eyes scanning
his frozen form. "It's okay,"
she murmurs, gently guiding
Hanna away. "Let me handle this."

new just a touch hannacore iv

CATCH IN MY CHIP v
(Autistic author)

The silence is heavy, filled
with the echoes of shattered
shell and shredded photos.
Karen's gaze is on her husband,
her heart aching as she sees
the turmoil in his eye. She knew to
tread carefully. She turns to him,
as he's hyperventilating.

"Plankton," she says firmly,
but her voice is gentle. 
He doesn't respond at 
first. But eventually,
he turns to her.

"I know you're upset, but you
can't talk to Chip like that,"
Karen says, her voice steady.
"He's just a kid, and he loves
you. He's trying to understand."

Plankton's breaths come in
quick, harsh gasps, his chest
heaving.

Karen approaches him, her
movements deliberate and calm.
"Plankton," she says, her voice
even. "Look at me."

Plankton's breaths slow,
his eye flicking to hers. He's
still trembling with anger, but
the storm seems to be passing.
"I know you're upset," she
continues. "But you can't take
it out on Chip. He loves you."

Plankton's shoulders slump,
his body deflating like a balloon.
"I know," he murmurs, his voice
barely a whisper. "I just... I can't..."

Karen nods, her eyes filled
with understanding. "It's okay,
sweetie," she says, her hand on his
back. "It's a lot to handle." She
guides him back to the bed, her touch
gentle and soothing. "Let's talk about
this when you're feeling better."

Plankton nods, his body still
shaking with the aftermath of
his outburst. He sits down heavily,
his eye cast down at the mess
around him. "I just wanted to show..."
he starts, but his voice trails off.

Karen sits beside him, her hand
still on his back. "I know you did,
dear," she says, her voice filled
with compassion. "But you have to
understand that Chip doesn't know
how to help you yet. And throwing
things and yelling isn't going to
make it better."

Plankton's breaths slow, his
body still tense. "But he...
he doesn't get it," he murmurs.
"He just kept pushing."

Karen nods, her eyes never
leaving his. "I know, Plankton.
And it's our job to teach him.
To help him understand." She
speaks softly, her voice a gentle
reminder of the love that fills
the room despite the chaos.

Plankton's eye meets hers,
his anger slowly receding. He nods,
his shoulders slumping. "I know,"
he says, his voice ragged with
emotion. "I just... I want him to
see me, not just... this."

Karen sighs, her hand still
on his back. "He does see you,
Plankton. He sees the amazing
person you are. But he's
just learning about autism."

Plankton's eye narrows, his antennas
drooping slightly. "But why
can't he just be careful?"
He asks, his voice filled
with pain. "Why does he have
to be so... much?"

Karen's heart breaks at the
sorrow in his voice. "He's just
excited, Plankton. He doesn't
understand the way you do."

Plankton sighs, his antennas
drooping. "I know," he murmurs.
"But it's so... overwhelming."

Karen nods, her eyes filled with
understanding. "I know, sweetie,"
she says. "But we can't expect
Chip to understand everything
right away."

She gets up and goes to the
closed bathroom door, her knuckles
lightly rapping against the wood.
"Chip, honey," she calls out, her voice
soft. "Can you come out?"

The door opens slowly, and Chip's
face is a mess of sand and tears.
Karen's heart clenches at the sight.
"Come here," she says, her tone gentle.

She pulls him into her arms,
his small body shaking with sobs.
"It's okay, baby," she whispers. "Daddy's just
having a hard time right now."

Plankton's eye follow them,
his own anger now replaced with regret.
He opens his mouth to apologize,
but no words come out. Karen nods
towards the bed, a silent invitation
for him to join them.

With a heavy sigh, Plankton
moves to sit on the edge, his
body still trembling with the
residual rage. Chip's sobs
subside into quiet sniffles, but
his face is still a picture of
hurt and confusion.

"Chip," Karen starts, her voice
calm and steady, "what happened
today is because Daddy's brain works
differently, remember?" She
looks at Plankton, whose gaze is
now on the floor, filled with
remorse. "And sometimes, we all
have to learn how to communicate
better."

Chip nods, his eyes red from crying,
still not fully understanding.
"But Daddy broke my trophy," he
whispers, holding a shard of it
in his hand.

Karen sighs, her gaze flicking to
Plankton. "Yes, and that was
wrong of him. But we need to
talk about why it happened."
She looks back at Chip, her eyes
filled with compassion. "Sometimes,
when Daddy gets too overwhelmed,
he doesn't know how to handle it.
It's like when you're really upset
and you don't know what to do with
all those big feelings."

Chip looks up at her, his eyes still
wet with tears. "But why did he yell?"

Karen takes a deep breath, her
hands stroking Chip's back in gentle
circles. "Because, honey, Daddy's brain
sometimes gets too full, like a jar of
sand with too many shells. And when that
happens, he needs a little help to
make room again."

Chip looks up at her, his eyes
searching hers for understanding.
"But I didn't mean to make him
mad," he says, his voice shaky.

Karen nods, her eyes never leaving
his. "I know, sweetie," she says,
her voice a gentle caress. "But sometimes,
even when we don't mean to, we can
overwhelm people. It's not your fault."

She glances at Plankton, who's still
staring at the floor, his body
a taut bow of tension. "Daddy just
needs some time," she says, her voice
soothing. "We all do sometimes."

new catch in my chip Chip Plankton II v

JUST A TOUCH vii
(Autistic author)


The room is thick with
unspoken words as Sandy
slowly approaches the bed,
her movements calculated to
avoid overstimulating Plankton.
Her eyes are full of compassion,
but also fear of the unknown.

"Hi, Plankton," she says softly,
extending her hand with a gentle wave.
He flinches, his antennae quivering.
"Remember me?" Plankton's
brain processes her words, but
his response is delayed. He nods,
his movements mechanical.

Sandy sits on the edge
of the bed, her eyes never
leaving his. "How are you
feeling?" she asks, her voice
carefully modulated to avoid
causing him discomfort.

Plankton's antennae twitch,
his eye darting to the side.
He doesn't look at her directly,
his gaze lingering on a spot
on the wall. "Fine," he says,
his voice devoid of inflection.

Sandy nods, her eyes
searching his for any sign
of the friend she knew. "It's
good to see you, Plankton."
Her words hang in the air,
their meaning lost in the
labyrinth of his new reality.

Karen watches them, her heart
in her throat. She can see
the effort Plankton is making
to engage with Sandy, the way
his antennae twitch with every
word spoken. It's a dance,
a delicate balance between
his need for solace and
his desire for connection.

Sandy's hand hovers
near his, her eyes questioning.
"Can I?" she asks, her voice
barely a whisper. Plankton's
gaze shifts to hers, his
expression unreadable.

Karen nods, giving her
permission. "Gently," she says,
a soft reminder. Sandy nods,
her hand inching closer to
his. Plankton's antennae
twitch slightly, his body
stiffening as her fingertips
brush against his.
But the moment their skin
makes contact, something
snaps within him. He jolts upright,
his antennae flailing as his eye
widen in panic.

"Too much," he cries out, his
voice a mix of fear and anger.
"Too much!" The room seems to
shrink around him, the walls
closing in with every beat of
his racing heart.

Sandy's eyes widen in shock,
her hand retreating quickly. "Plankton,"
she says, her voice calm. "It's okay."

But Plankton's not listening, his
body shaking with the force
of his emotions. "No!" he yells,
his voice echoing through the room.
"No touch!"

Sandy's face falls, her eyes
brimming with confusion and
hurt. "I'm sorry," she says, her voice
shaking. "I didn't mean to..."

But Plankton's in the throes
of a full-blown meltdown. His
tiny fists clench. "No touch!"
he repeats, his voice rising.

Karen's heart breaks
seeing the fear in Sandy's eyes,
but she understands the
importance of respecting
Plankton's boundaries. "We're
sorry, Plank..."

But Plankton's anger
interrupts her, his voice
sharp and intense. "No! No sorry!
Sandy touch no good!" His words
are a jumble of pain and
frustration, a stark contrast
to the controlled monotone
he'd used earlier.

Sandy's eyes fill with tears,
her hand retreating to her lap.
"I'm sorry," she whispers,
her voice cracking. "I didn't
know." Karen nods, her grip
on Plankton's hand tightening.

"It's okay," she says to both
of them, her voice steady.
"We're just figuring this out."
Plankton's chest heaves with
breaths. "No touch," he
mutters, his voice fading.

Sandy nods, her eyes
still on Plankton. "I'm
sorry," she repeats, her voice
softer. "I'll..."

But Plankton's outburst
continues, his voice rising. "No touch!"
The room vibrates with his
distress, the air thick with
his panic. Karen's heart races,
her mind racing to find a way
to soothe him. She knows he's
overwhelmed, that his new
hypersensitivity to touch has
been violated.

Sandy's eyes widen, her
hands hovering awkwardly in
the space between them. She
can see the turmoil in his
face, the anguish in his voice.
"I didn't mean to..." she starts,
but her words are swallowed
by his distress.

"Plankton, it's okay,"
she says, her voice barely
above a whisper. But it's too
late. The dam has broken,
and his emotions flood the
room like a storm.

His tiny body trembles with
rage, his antennae flailing in
every direction. "No touch!"
he screams again, the force
of his voice surprising even
Sandy. She jumps back,
hands raised in a gesture
of surrender.

Karen's eyes are on Plankton,
a silent apology in her gaze.
"It's okay," she says to him,
her voice soothing. "We'll
make sure that doesn't
happen again." Plankton's
eye darts around the room,
his breathing erratic. "No touch,"
he whispers, his voice
broken.

Sandy backs away, her eyes
swimming with unshed tears.
"I didn't know," she says,
her voice thick. "I'm so sorry."

The room echoes with Plankton's
sobs, his body quaking in Karen's
arms. Karen's heart
aches for him, her eyes never leaving
his face.

"No touch," he whispers, his voice
broken. Karen nods, her eyes brimming
with tears. "I know," she says, her voice
gentle. "It's okay. We'll figure this out."

Plankton's antennae stop flailing,
his body still trembling as the storm
of his emotions begin to subside. He
looks up at Karen, his gaze searching
for comfort. She wipes a tear from her
face with her free hand. "It's okay,"
she repeats. "You're okay."

Sandy's eyes are red, her
shoulders slumped. "I didn't know,"
she says again, her voice shaking.
"I just wanted to help."

Karen nods, her own eyes
wet with empathy. "I know," she says.
"It's a lot to take in."

The three of them sit
in the quiet room, the only
sound Plankton's muffled sobs.
Sandy's eyes dart around,
not knowing what to do with
herself. Karen squeezes
his hand gently, her gaze
never leaving his. "We're
here for you," she whispers.

Slowly, Plankton's crying
subsides, his body still
shaking. Karen can feel the
tension in him, like a coiled
spring ready to snap again.
Sandy's hand twitches, as if
she wants to reach out, but
she stops herself, remembering
his outburst. "I'm sorry,"
she says again, her voice
small.

Karen nods, her eyes never
leaving Plankton's. "It's not
your fault," she says to
Sandy, her voice gentle.
"We're all just trying to
navigate this new... reality."
Sandy sniffs, nodding.

"I just want to be here
for you guys," she says, her
voice shaky. Plankton's
sobs quiet, his body
slumping in exhaustion.

Karen nods, her eyes
meeting Sandy's. "We know,
and we appreciate it," she
says, her voice tight. "But we
have to be careful with
his sensory needs."

Sandy nods, her
face a mask of sorrow. "I'll
learn," she whispers. "What do
you need from me, Plan..."

But Plankton's already
slipping away, his eyelid
drooping as sleep beckons.
Karen's grip on his hand
doesn't loosen as she watches
his breathing even out. The
tension in the room slowly
eases as his body relaxes,
his sobs giving way to quiet
snuffles.

Sandy's eyes are on him,
her heart heavy with guilt.
"I'll go," she says, her voice
barely above a whisper. Karen
nods, her gaze still on Plankton.
"Thank you," she murmurs. "Call
me if you need anything."

Sandy nods, her eyes
lingering on the two of them
before she stands, her legs shaky.
She crosses the room, the weight
of her mistake dragging her
down. As she reaches the door,
she glances back one last time.
Plankton's antennae twitch
slightly in his sleep, and she
can't help but feel a pang
of sadness.

Karen's eyes follow her,
filled with a mix of
gratitude and sorrow.
"Thank you," she whispers
again as Sandy exits,
closing the door behind her.
The click echoes through
the quiet space, a stark
reminder of the distance
that's grown between
them all.

Plankton's grip on her
hand tightens slightly in his
sleep, as if sensing the
shift in the room's energy.
Karen brings her other hand
to cover his, sandwiching
it between hers. Her eyes
well with tears as she
whispers, "It's okay, Plankton.
You're okay."

The room is bathed in silence
once again, the only sound
being Plankton's gentle
snores. Karen's mind is racing,
thinking of all the
adjustments they'll need to
make, the education she'll
have to provide to those
who know and love him. But
for now, she focuses on the
warmth of his hand in hers,
his head buried in her shoulder.

Her eyes drift to the clock,
the hands moving in a slow,
steady march forward. It's time
for her to start dinner,
to bring some semblance of
normalcy back into their lives.
Gently, she shifts Plankton to
his side, making sure he's
comfortable before rising
from the bed.

The kitchen is a minefield
of potential triggers: the
hum of the fridge, the clink
of pans, the smell of
cooking food. She moves
carefully, her eyes scanning
the room for anything that
might overstimulate him.

The recipe she's chosen is
simple, something they both
enjoy. She starts the prep,
chopping vegetables with a
precision that Plankton would
appreciate, her movements
methodical and calming.

The aroma of cooking food
fills the air, a comforting
reminder of their shared life.
Karen's mind is a whirlwind
of thoughts, planning how
to help Plankton navigate this
new world. She wipes her
hands on a towel.
As she hears Plankton's tentative
steps on the stairs, she takes a
deep breath. His descent is
slow, each step measured
with caution.

When he enters the kitchen,
his gaze darts around the room,
his antennae twitching with
each new sound. Karen's heart
squeezes. She's used to his
energy, his boundless enthusiasm.
This cautious creature is still
his shell-shocked self.

"Hungry?" she asks, her voice
as soft as the evening light.
Plankton nods.

The meal is a simple one,
a familiar comfort in a world
that's become so alien. Karen
places the plate before him,
the steaming food a visual
symphony of their shared past.

Plankton's antennae quiver,
his gaze fixating on the plate.
"Food," he says, his voice
still monotone. Karen nods,
aching for the
passionate foodie she knew.

"Do you need anything
else?" she asks, her voice
soft. He shakes his head.

The meal is eaten in
silence, each bite a victory. Karen wants
to say something, anything,
but she knows he needs
space, time to process the
whirlwind of emotions.

new just a touch neurodisability vii

CATCH IN MY CHIP ix
(Autistic author)

With grace of a dancer, Chip 
slides into the bed beside
his dad, his movements calculated
and precise. Each inch closer feels
like a victory, a step to
reconciliation. He's careful not
to disturb. His hand reaches
for Plankton's, his touch a
whisper in the quiet.

Plankton's breathing steady and rhythmic.
Chip swells with hope, clutches the
hand tightly, feeling the
strength in the slender fingers.
It's a silent declaration of love,
an unspoken apology.

Karen watches, her screen
shimmering with unshed tears.
The sight of her son and
husband finding their way
back to each other fills her
heart with a warmth that
chases the shadows from the
room. She knows this isn't a
moment to interrupt, so she
simply observes, her hand
on Chip's back in silent
support.

Chip's eyes drift shut, and he lets
his body mold to the warmth
of his dad's side. The scent of
his dad's pillow, a mix of
saltwater and something
uniquely Plankton, fills his
nose, lulling him into a
sense of safety.

Time seems to stand still in the
quiet embrace, each tick of the
clock a gentle reminder that
moments like these are rare. But
eventually, the world outside
their sanctuary calls, and Plankton
stirs.

His antennas twitch, his
eye blinking open .
He's disoriented at first, his
brain still wrapped in the
cotton wool of sleep. Then he feels
the warmth beside him, the
weight of a small hand in his.

Plankton's heart stutters,
his body tense. His eye find
Chip's peaceful face, his son's
cheek pressed against his arm.
The room is a tableau of quiet,
the air thick with the unspoken.
He's torn between emotions and fear,
his mind racing.

He doesn't remember falling
asleep, the anger and frustration
of last night a distant memory.
But here's Chip, a living proof
of their unspoken reconciliation.
Plankton's antennas quiver,
his hand hovering over their
entwined fingers. He's afraid to
move, to disturb the fragile
harmony of the moment.

But his body has other plans.
His muscles tense, his skin
prickling with the need for
space. He's not used to this,
the warmth, the weight. His
autistic brain screams for order,
for predictability. He tries to
swallow the rising panic, to push
it back down into the pit of his
stomach where it belongs. Plankton
can feel his own heart racing,
his antennas quivering with
the effort of holding still. His
body wants to recoil, to retreat
from the sudden assault of
sensation. But he can't, not with
his son's hand in his.

Karen notices the tension
in his body, the way his antennas
spasm slightly. She knows what's
coming, the inevitable retreat.
With a gentle touch, she whispers,
"It's okay, Plankton. You don't have
to handle it if it's too much."
Her words are a soothing balm,
but they're not enough to
calm the storm inside him.

Chip's hand tightens slightly
around his, and Plankton's eye
snap to his son's face. He sees
the trust there, the love.
It's a punch to the gut, a
reminder of all the moments
he's missed, all the times he's
failed to understand. His hand
shakes, the tremble traveling
up his arm.

He tries to swallow the
rising panic, his throat tight.
But it's too much, the weight
of his son's body, the heat,
the smell, the touch. His mind
whirrs, his senses overloading.
He needs space, to think, to breathe.
With a deep, shuddering inhale,
he starts to pull away, his
body fighting the instinct to
shove Chip off the bed.

Karen's hand is a gentle
weight on his shoulder.
"Take it slow," she whispers,
her voice a lifeline in the storm.

Plankton nods, his antennas
still quivering. He tries to
push the panic down, to
focus on the warmth of
Chip's hand, the steady beat
of their hearts. But the
pressure builds, a crescendo
of sensation threatening to
crush him. He can't breathe.

With a tremble, he starts
to pull away, his hand
sliding out from under
Chip's. "I'm sorry," he
whispers, his voice strained.
"It's too much."

Karen's hand remains
on his shoulder, her eyes
filled with compassion.
"It's okay," she says, her voice
a soft whisper. "We're here."

The room spins around
Plankton, a whirlwind of
colors and shapes. His antennas
wave wildly, his grip on reality
slipping. He's lost in the chaos
of his own mind, the sensory
overload a tornado that
threatens to consume him.

Karen's voice is a beacon,
guiding him back to shore.
"Breathe," she whispers, her hand
still on his shoulder. "In, out,
slowly." Her words are a
lifeline in the tempest.

Plankton nods, his breaths
coming in ragged gasps. He tries
to focus on the sensation of
her hand, the gentle pressure
of her touch. But the world
keeps spinning, the colors
blurring together like a
watercolor painting left in
the rain.

He feels the bed shift as
Karen sits beside him, her
presence a grounding force.
"Just breathe," she says, her
voice a soft mantra. "You're
okay." His chest rises and falls in
quick succession, his body's
desperate attempt to regulate
itself amidst the chaos. His
heart races, each beat a
staccato in his ears. The room
spins, the walls closing in, the
ringing in his ears getting louder
to where it consumes him, now
impenetrable to any other sound.

Karen notices the sudden
pallor that sweeps over her
husband's face, the way his
body sags into the bed.
Her eyes fill with concern,
her hand tightening on his
shoulder. "Look at me," she says,
her voice firm but gentle.
"Take deep breaths."

But the ringing in his head is
too loud. It's consumed him
and impenetrable. He can't
hear her. He doesn't hear
anything.

Karen's voice is a distant
echo, the words swallowed by
the cacophony in his mind.
Her hand on his shoulder is
the only real thing, the
only anchor keeping him from
being swept away.

The room spins faster, the
colors bleeding into one
another until all Plankton
can see is a kaleidoscope of
sensory overload. The ringing
in his ears crescendos,
drowning out the world.
His chest feels tight, his lungs
desperate for air that won't
come. He's adrift in a sea
of panic, unable to find
his way back to the shore.

Karen's voice cuts through
the din, her hand a firm
reminder of reality. "Look
at me," she says, her eyes
locked on his, her voice a
steady lighthouse guiding
his way back. "Just me,
just us." But Plankton's not
hearing anymore.

The room is spinning, the
colors a whirlwind of chaos.
He's lost in the tornado
of his own making, the
sensory overload a prison
he can't escape. His hand
shakes, his body tense as
his mind begs for reprieve.
Karen's eyes widen with
concern.

"Plankton," she whispers, her
voice a gentle lullaby. "Look
at me." She moves closer, her
hand reaching for his face.
Her touch is a grounding force,
but it's not enough. He's
too far gone.

The room spins, a blur
of color and sound. Plankton's
eye is wide with panic, his
body trembling. The bed seems
to shift beneath him, the
walls closing in. His breaths
are shallow, his chest tight.
He's lost in the tornado of
his senses.

Karen's hand on his
shoulder is a lifeline, but
his mind is too far gone.
Her voice is a distant
whisper, the words unintelligible.
All he can feel is the
crushing weight of the
world pressing down on him,
the lights too bright, the
noises too loud. And then
Chip stirs in his sleep.

The movement sends a
shiver down Plankton's spine,
his body tightening like a
coiled spring. The ringing in
his ears reaches a crescendo,
drowning out everything else.
He tries to push the panic
back down, to find the calm
he desperately needs, but it's
like trying to hold back the
tide with a paper wall.

Karen's eyes are filled with
fear as she sees Plankton's
descent into overwhelm. She
knows the signs all too well.
Her hand on his shoulder is
now a firm grip, trying to
keep him tethered to the
here and now. "Look at me,"
she says, her voice a gentle
command. "Just me, just us."

But Plankton's gaze is unfocused,
his mind swirling with a
torrent of sensations that
make him feel like he's
falling into a bottomless pit.
The room seems to spin faster,
the light from the window a
piercing glare that slices through
his retina. He wants to
shield his eye, but his arm
feels like lead, too heavy to lift.

Karen's touch is the only
constant, her hand on his
shoulder the one thing that
feels real amidst the
sensory maelstrom. But even
that is slipping away as
his dizziness crescendos into
full-blown vertigo. His vision
blurs, the lines of reality
smearing into a nauseating
whirl of color and light.

"Plankton," she says, her voice
urgent. "Look at me."

The words echo in his
head, a distant call amidst
the chaos. He tries to focus
on her face, her eyes the only
constant in the whirlwind
of sensations. But the world
spins, faster and faster,
until all he can see is a
blur of color.

Her hand on his shoulder is
a lifeline, but it's slipping
away. He feels himself
falling, tumbling into the
void of his own mind. His
body is a marionette, his
strings cut by the storm.
The ringing in his ears
reaches a crescendo, a
symphony of panic that
consumes him.

Karen's eyes are wide
with fear, her grip on him
desperate. "Look at me,"
she repeats, her voice 
steady. "You're okay."
Her hand moves to his face.

But Plankton's gaze is
glassy, his pupil dilated.
He's trapped in the chaos of
his senses. The ringing
in his ears is a siren's
call, pulling him deeper.

Karen's hand moves from
his shoulder to his cheek,
the softness of her touch
a stark contrast to the
harshness of the world
invading his mind. "Look
at me," she repeats, her voice
a whisper. "You're safe."
Her thumb traces the line
of his jaw, a gentle guide.

But Plankton's eye is
glassy, lost in the storm.
Her words are gentle,
trying to soothe him. But the
flames are too high, too
strong. He's drowning in
his own senses.

With a tremble, Karen's hand
moves to his cheek, her
touch a soft caress. "Look at
me," she whispers, her voice
a lifeline thrown into
the tempest. "You're ok."

new catch in my chip Chip Plankton II ix

AUTISM IN THE PLANKTON FAMILY x


(Autistic author)



The extraction was swift and
skillful, the wisdom teeth
removed with the care of the
surgeon. Plankton's tiny body
was a testament to the doctor's
expertise, not even a flinch
disturbing his peaceful slumber.

Plankton was wheeled into
recovery, where Karen and
SpongeBob were.

"He's fine," Delfina assured,
her voice a soft lullaby. "The
surgery went well. He'll just
need to sleep it off."

Dr. Doolittle nods. "He did
fantastic and is doing so
great."

The anesthesia
kept him blissfully unaware
of the world around him, his
tiny body relaxed in a way
it rarely was.

Karen and Sponge Bob sat
on plush chairs, their eyes
never leaving Plankton's
slumbering form. Karen held his
hand, her thumb rubbing small
comforting circles on the back of
his palm. 

Sponge Bob leaned forward in
his chair, his eyes never leaving
Plankton's still form.

"How long will he be out?" he
asked, his voice a whisper in the
quiet room.

Delfina, the dolphin hygienist,
smiled kindly. "It's hard to say,
exactly. But he'll wake up when
his body's ready," she assured,
patting Sponge Bob's arm with a
flipper.

Sponge Bob nodded, his eyes
never leaving Plankton's peaceful
face. The room was bathed in a
soft light, designed to be as
soothing as possible for those
recovering from surgery. 

As Plankton slept, his mouth
was open hung slightly
apart, his breathing deep and
even, a testament
to the deep, anesthesia-induced
slumber that had taken hold.
The gentle rise and fall of
his chest was the only indication
of life amidst the sea of blankets
and medical equipment that
surrounded him. His antennae
were still, a stark contrast to
their usual frenetic dance.

But as the minutes ticked
by, a small pool of drool began
to form at the corner of his
mouth. It grew larger, a silent
testament to his relaxed
state, trickling down his cheek
and onto the pillow beneath
his head.

Sponge Bob couldn't help but
smile at the sight. It was
oddly endearing, 
with a strange mix of pity
and affection.

Karen chuckled softly. "Looks
like he's out cold," she whispered.

Sponge Bob leaned in closer, his
expression a mix of amusement
and concern. "Is that normal?"
he asked, pointing at the drool.

Delfina's smile grew wider. "Perfectly
normal," she assured him, her
flippers moving with the grace
of a ballerina as she wiped
Plankton's chin with a soft
cloth. "He's just really out of it.
and his mouth's numbed."

His antennae twitched slightly
as the anesthesia began to
wear off, but he didn't wake yet.

As if on cue, Plankton's eye
twitched, and a faint whine
escaped his lips. His antennae
twitched, and he stirred
slightly. The sedative's grip
was loosening, allowing him to
surface from the depths of sleep. 

Karen's screen snapped to his face,
her hand tightening around his.
"You're ok," she whispered, her
voice a gentle current. "You're just
waking up."

Plankton's antennae began to
quiver again, his eye
flickering open. The world was
still a blur, his thoughts a
tangle of confusion. He blinked
slowly, trying to focus on the
figures around him, eye fluttered
open to reveal the blurred
outlines of his friends'
concerned faces.

"Hey there, buddy," Sponge Bob
whispered, his voice a soft
caress.

Plankton's antennae twitched
slightly, his eye focusing on
his friend's smiling face. He
tried to speak, but his mouth
was heavy and uncooperative.
"W...what happened?" he mumbled,
his voice a slurred echo.

Karen leaned in, her smile gentle.
"You had your wisdom teeth
removed, sweetie," she said, her
voice a soothing lilt. "You're
just waking up from the
anesthesia."

Delfina, approached with gauze.
"Bite down on this," she instructs,
her voice a soft melody. "It'll
help with any bleeding."

Plankton's mouth still
numb from the surgery but
did as he was told.

The ride home was a
blur of gentle swaying, the
motion of the boat lulling
his overstimulated senses.
The soft hum of the engine
was a comforting white noise
that drowned out the cacophony
of the world outside.

Karen steered the boat with
extra care. Plankton was snuggled 
into the crook of SpongeBob's
arm, his antennae drooping with
exhaustion, eye fluttering closed as
the waves whispered a gentle
lullaby beneath them.
Plankton's breathing grew
even, his body relaxing into the
soft embrace of sleep.

Eventually the arrived back home,
Karen parking. 
"We're back home, Plankton.." says
SpongeBob, his voice a gentle
reminder of reality.
Yet Plankton didn't stir, his
body still lost in the depths.
"Should we wake him?"
he asked, his voice a soft
mumble.

Karen gets out and goes to
where they're seated.

"Come on, Plankton," Karen's
voice was a gentle nudge, her
hand on his shoulder. "Time to
wake up."

Plankton's antennae twitched,
his eye fluttering open to
reveal a world that was still
hazy and unreal. He blinked
slowly, trying to focus on
Karen's face above him. "Home?"
he murmured, his voice a
distant echo.

Karen nodded, her smile
soft. "Yes, we're home," she said,
her voice a gentle caress. "You
slept through the whole ride."

Plankton blinked groggily,
his antennae quivering slightly. 
He sat up slowly.

Karen helped him to his
feet, her touch gentle as
sea grass brushing against
his skin. "Let's get you inside,"
she said, her voice a gentle
wake-up call.

Sponge Bob hovered nearby,
his eyes filled with worry as
he watched Plankton wobble slightly,
his body still adjusting to
being upright. "You okay?" he
asked, his voice a gentle ripple
in the calm of the moment.

Plankton nodded, his antennae
still limp with sleep. "Jus’
tiwed," he mumbled, his voice
raspy from the surgery. Karen
guided him to the bed, the
softness of the pillow a
welcome embrace for his head.
Sponge Bob hovered nearby. his
"Do you need anything?"
he asked.

"I'm fine," Plankton murmured,
his eye drifting closed again.
"Jush... quiet."

The quiet hum of the
air conditioner and the distant
lapping of waves against the
shore created a serene symphony
for his heightened senses.

Plankton lay in bed, his
antennas still, his body
recovering from the ordeal.
The pillows were piled high,
a fortress around him, and the
sheets were pulled tight, a
comforting cocoon.

Karen sat beside him, her
hand on his arm, her voice
a gentle hum of reassurance.
"You're doing so well," she
whispered. "Just rest."

The room was bathed in
dim light, the curtains drawn
to block out the harsh
daylight that could cause him
discomfort. The sounds of the
ocean outside were muffled, a
soothing backdrop to his
recovery.

Karen hovered nearby, her
screen never leaving his sleepy
form. She had set up a small
station with ice ready to offer
comfort at a moment's notice.

Sponge Bob sat in the armchair
across the room.

He watched his friend
sleep peacefully, his antennae
finally at rest. The quiet of
the room was a stark contrast to
the chaos of the dental office,
but Plankton seemed to be
comfortable, his breathing
even and deep.

The hours passed with a gentle
rhythm, the soft sounds of the
ocean outside the only
company to their vigil.
Karen checked on Plankton
frequently, her movements
silent as a ghost as she made
sure he was okay.

Sponge Bob's eyes never
left Plankton's sleeping
form. He got books and an
entertainment system for
Plankton to.

Plankton stirred in his sleep,
his antennae twitching.

Karen's gaze was quick to
find him, her eyes full of
concern. "You okay?" she
whispered, her voice a gentle
wave lapping at the shore of
his consciousness.

Plankton nodded slowly, his
antennas rising slightly.

"Th...thank you," he mumbled,
his mouth still numb from
the surgery. "I'll...I'll be okay."

new autism in the plankton family doolittle x

ᶠʳᵃᵗᵉʳⁿⁱᶻᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ
⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾
ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ’ˢ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗᵒʷⁿ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉʳ
ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵃˢ ᵗᵒ ᵃⁿᵃˡʸᶻᵉ ᵃ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ
ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʳᵉᵃᶜʰᵉᵈ ᵃ ᶜʳᵒʷᵇᵃʳ⸴ ᵘˢᵉᵈ ᵃˡˡ ʰⁱˢ
ˢᵗʳᵉⁿᵍᵗʰ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇⁱᵍᵍᵉˢᵗ ˢʷⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʷʰᵃᶜᵏ ᵗʰᵉ
ᶜᵒⁿᵗʳᵃᵖᵗⁱᵒⁿ⸴ ᵃⁱᵐᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵖᵖᵃʳᵃᵗᵘˢ ᶠᵒʳᶜᵉᶠᵘˡˡʸ
ᵇᵘᵗ ⁱⁿˢᵗᵉᵃᵈ ᵍᵒᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰⁱᵗ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵉᵃᵈ 
ᵒⁿ ᵃᶜᶜⁱᵈᵉⁿᵗ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʳᵒʷᵇᵃʳ‧
ᴹᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ⁿᵒⁱˢᵉ⸴ ˢᵉⁿˢᵉˢ ᶠᵃᵈⁱⁿᵍ
ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᶜᵒᵐᵖʳᵉʰᵉⁿᵈ⸴ 
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵉᵃᵏˡʸ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ 
ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵃˡˢᵒ ˢˡᵃᵐᵐᵉᵈ
ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿˢᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ᵐᵃᶜʰⁱⁿᵉ‧  
ᴾᵃⁿⁱᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ
ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵐᵃᶜʰⁱⁿᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵈⁱˢᵖᵒˢᵉ‧ 
"ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵒⁿ! ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏˢʸ? ᴼ!"
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ'ˢ ⁿᵒʷ 
ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ʷⁱˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵗᵗˡᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵉˡˡⁱⁿᵍ 
ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵈ
ⁿᵒᵗ ᵇᵘᵈᵍᵉ ᵒʳ ʳᵉᵃᶜᵗ ᵃᵗ ᵃˡˡ‧ “ʸᵒᵘ
ʰᵉᵃʳ ᵐᵉ…” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵒᵇˢ‧ 
ᴴᵉ ᵖᵉᵗ ʰᶤᵐ ᵍᵉᶰᵗˡʸˑ 
“ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ’ᵗ ʳᵉᵛⁱᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ⁱᵗ
ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈᵎ ᴴᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ʷᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ‧‧‧”
ᶜᵃʳᵉᶠᵘˡˡʸ ᵗᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ
ʰⁱˢ ᵖⁱⁿᵉᵃᵖᵖˡᵉ ʰᵒᵘˢᵉ˒ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ 
ˢᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵈᵒʷⁿ‧ "ᴵ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵇᵉ
ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᶰᵉ ʷʰᵒ'ˢ ᔆᵉᵐⁱ
ᶜᵒᵐᵃᵗᵒˢᵉˑˑˑ" 
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵇᵉ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵍˡᵃᵈ ⁱᶠ
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʳᵉᵃᶜᵗᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵍʳⁱˡʸ⸴ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ 
ᵏᶰᵉʷ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵃ ʰᵃᶰᵈ ˢʷᵃᵗᵗᵉᵈ
ᵃʷᵃʸ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ‧
ᴱᵛᵉⁿᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʳᵉᵍᵃⁱⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᶜᵒᶰˢᶜᶤᵒᵘˢᶰᵉˢˢ⸴ 
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵇᵃʳᵉˡʸ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵉ ʰᵉ'ˢ ⁱⁿ‧ 
“ᵁʰ…” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ 
ʰᵘᵐᵐᶤᶰᵍ⸴ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉⁿˑ 
“ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ…”  ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ
ᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉ ᵉᶜʰᵒᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ 
ˢᵃʷ ʰᶤᵐ ˢˡᵒʷˡʸ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ‧ “ᵂʰᵃ…”
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵉᵃˢʸ
ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵃʳᵈˡʸ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵃⁱⁿ ᵉˣᶜⁱᵗᵉᵐᵉⁿᵗ‧  “ᴵ 
ʷᵃˢ ˢᵒ ʷᵒʳʳⁱᵉᵈᵎ
ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵇᵉ ʳᶤᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ˒ ᵃˢ ᴵ
ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ᵃ ᶜᵃˡˡˑˑˑ” 
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ˒ ⁿᵒʷ ᶜᵒᶰˢᶜᶤᵒᵘˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ᵈᵃᶻᵉᵈ⸴ 
ᶰᵒᵗ ᵏᶰᵒʷᶤᶰᵍ ᵉˣᵃᶜᵗˡʸ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ ᵃᶰᵈ
ᶠᵉᵉˡᶤᶰᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉᶠᶠᵉᶜᵗˢ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᶤᵗ˒
ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ
ᶜᵃˡˡ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ⸴ ᵃˢ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵉⁿˢᵉˢ 
ᵖᵃⁱⁿ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᶠˡᵒᵒᵈᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵉⁿˢᵉˢ‧ “ᴴᵉ'ˢ 
ʷᵃᵏᶤᶰᵍᵎ” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ
ʰᵃⁿᵍˢ ᵘᵖ‧  “ᵂʰᵉ…
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ; ʷʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ?” 
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃᵘᵍʰᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰ ᶠᵉᵃʳᶤᶰᵍ
ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ'ˢ ʳᵉᵃᶜᵗᶤᵒᶰ‧ "ᴵ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ
ᵗᵉˡˡ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ᵈⁱˢᵒʳⁱᵉⁿᵗᵉᵈ‧‧‧"
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʰᵉ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳˢ‧
“ᴮᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʰᵒⁿᵉ
ᴵ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ᵃʷᵃⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵐʸ ᵐᵃᶜʰⁱⁿᵉ
ᵗᵒ ᵃⁿᵃˡʸᶻᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵉⁿᵗˢ ᵒᶠ ᵃ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ
ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ʷʰᵃᵗ’ˢ ⁱⁿ ⁱᵗ‧ ᴸᵃˢᵗ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ
ᴵ ᵏⁿᵉʷ⸴ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵍᵒᵗ
ᵃ ᶜʳᵒʷᵇᵃʳ⸴ ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʰᵒʷ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ 
ᵘᶰᵗᶤˡ ᴵ ˢᵒᵐᵉ
ʰᵒʷ ᵉᶰᵈᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ʰᵉʳᵉ…”
“ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵍᵒᵗ
ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʳᵒʷᵇᵃʳ⸴ ⁱᵗ ᵏⁿᵒᶜᵏᵉᵈ ʸᵒᵘʳ
ʰᵉᵃᵈ⸴ ʳᵉⁿᵈᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵉ ᵒᶠ 
ˢᵉⁿˢᵉˡᵉˢˢⁿᵉˢˢ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ʳᵉᵐᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ 
ᵘⁿᵗⁱˡ ᴵ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ʰᵉʳᵉ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵛᵉʳ ᶠʳᵒᵐ
ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ⁿᵒⁿ⁻ᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢ…” “ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ⸴ 
ⁱᵗ’ˢ ᵘⁿᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗ ⁿᵒⁿᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢᵎ”
“ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ᵃⁿʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵈᵒ…” 
“ᵁᵍ⸴ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᶜʳʸ‧” ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ᵗʳʸ ᵗᵒ ʷʳᵃᵖ
ʰⁱˢ ᵃᶜʰⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵃʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ⁱᵗ ʷʰᵉⁿ
ᵃ ᵏⁿᵒᶜᵏ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ‧
“ᴵ’ˡˡ ᵍᵉᵗ ⁱᵗᵎ” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵒᵖᵉⁿˢ
ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ ᵗᵒ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ‧
“ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷˀ” 
ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᑫᵘᵉˢᵗⁱᵒⁿᵉᵈ‧ “ᴵ ʷᵃⁿᵗ 
ᵗᵒ ᵖˡᵃʸ ⁱᵗ ˢᵃᶠᵉ‧” “ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᴵ
ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʰᵒʷ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵈᵉᵃˡ
ᵃˢ ᴵ ʰᵃᵛᵉⁿ’ᵗ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ…” 
“ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ⸴ ᴵ ʷᵒⁿ’ᵗ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵘⁿᵃᵗᵗᵉⁿᵈᵉᵈ‧”
“ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵉᵃˡ ʷⁱᵗʰ
ᵒᵘʳ ᵇᵒˢˢ‧‧‧” “ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ˒
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿˢ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵛᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ; ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ᵗᵉˡˡ 
ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʰᵉ’ˢ 
ʰᵉʳᵉ…” ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ
ᵇᵒᵇ ᵉˣᵖˡᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ‧ ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ˢᵠᵘᶤᵈʷᵃʳᵈ
ˡᵉᶠᵗ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ “ᶠᵉᵉˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿʸ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳˀ”
“ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᶰᵒᵗ ᵗᵒᵗᵃˡˡʸ ᶜˡᵉᵃʳ
ᵐᶤᶰᵈᵉᵈ ʸᵉᵗ‧ ᵂᵃⁱᵗ⸴ ʷʰᵒ ᵉˡˢᵉ'ˢ…” “ᴵ
ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵗʳᵃⁱᵍʰᵗ ʰᵉʳᵉ‧
ᴵ’ᵈ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ
ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ’ᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵒ
ᴵ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵉʳᵉ‧ ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃᶰ
ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳˢᵉˡᶠ ᵃᵗ ʰᵒᵐᵉᵎ  
ᵂʰᵃᵗ ᵈᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵉᵉˡ
ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒˀ” “ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ˢᵗᵒᵖ ʳᵃᵐᵇˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ…”
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵐᵒʳᵉ 
ᵏⁿᵒᶜᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ 
ᵒᵖᵉⁿˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ ᵗᵒ  
ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ‧ “ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ᴵ’ᵛᵉ ᵃ ˢⁱᵗᵘᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ‧ ʸᵒᵘ 
ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᵐᵉᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉˀ” 
“ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ᵗᵉˡˡ
ᴾⁱⁿᵏʸ ᵃ…” “ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ
ⁱˢ ᵐʸ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ⸴ ᔆᵒ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ 
ᵃˡᵒⁿᵉᵎ” “ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ᴵ ᵃᵐ
ᶜᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃˢ…” “ᴵ
ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ʷᵉ…” “ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ 
ᵃˢᵏ ᴾˡᵃⁿ…” “ᵂʰʸˀ ᴴᵉ’ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ
ᵍᵒ…” “ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ʰᵉ…” “ᑫᵘᶤᵉᵗ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒᵒᶠˢ
ᵃʳᵉ ʷᵒʳˢᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵐʸ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵗʰʳᵒᵇᵇⁱⁿᵍ
ˢᵒ ᵏⁿᵒᶜᵏ ⁱᵗ ᵒᶠᶠᵎ”
ᴮᵒᵗʰ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ 
ᶠⁱⁿᵃˡˡʸ ᵃᶜᵗᶤᶰᵍ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ˡᶤᵏᵉ ʰᶤᵐˢᵉˡᶠ‧ 
“ᵂᵉ’ˡˡ ˢᵉᵉ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ ᴾᵃᵗ‧‧‧” 
“ᔆᵉᵉ ʸᵃ‧” ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ˡᵉᶠᵗ‧ “ᴴᵘⁿᵍʳʸˀ” 
“ᴳᵘᵉˢˢ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵈⁱⁿⁿᵉʳ…” ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ
ᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵒᵗ ᶠᵒᵒᵈ‧ 
ᔆᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿˡʸ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʰᵒⁿᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ʳⁱⁿᵍⁱⁿᵍ‧ 
“ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵏᵉᵉᵖ ᵉᵃᵗⁱⁿᵍᵎ”
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʰᵒⁿᵉ‧ “ᴱʰ 
ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ʷᵒʳᵏ
ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷˀ ᴵ ʳⁱᵈ ᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃⁿᵃˡʸˢᵉʳ‧‧‧”
ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ‧ “ᵀʰᵉ ᴷʳᵘˢᵗʸ
ᴷʳᵃᵇ ⁿᵉᵉᵈˢ ʸᵉᵎ” ᴮᵘᵗ ᔆᵒ ᵈⁱᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧
“ᴵ’ᵐ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵃ ᵇⁱᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢʰᵃᵏᵉⁿ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵒ ᵐʸ
ʲᵒᵇ ʷᵉˡˡ ᵇʸᵉᵎ” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ʰᵃⁿᵍˢ ᵘᵖ⸴ 
ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ˡⁱᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᶜᵒⁿᶠˡⁱᶜᵗ ᵒʳ ᵗᵒ ˡⁱᵉ‧ 
 ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠⁱˣᵉᵈ  
ʷᵃʳᵐ ᵇˡᵃⁿᵏᵉᵗˢ‧
“ᵀʰᵃⁿᵏˢ…”
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃⁱᵈ⸴ ᵘⁿᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ˢʰᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ
ᵃᶠᶠᵉᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ‧ ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ ʰᵉ
ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵈᵒ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒ ᵉˣʰᵃᵘˢᵗᵉᵈ
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ‧‧‧" "ᵂᵉ'ᵛᵉ ʰᵃᵈ ᵃ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵈᵃʸ
ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵉ?" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ‧
"ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒ ᵍˡᵃᵈ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵇᵒᵘⁿᶜⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧
ᴾᵉʳʰᵃᵖˢ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵇᵉ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ‧‧‧
ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ?" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵖᵒᵏᵉ
ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶻᶻᶻᶻᶻᶻ'ⁱⁿᵍ
ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵃ ˡᵒᵍ‧ ᵀʰᵉⁿ ˢᵗʳᵒᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵗᵉⁿⁿᵃ
ˢᵐᵒᵒᵗʰ⸴ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗʰᵉⁿ 
ʷʰⁱˢᵖᵉʳᵉᵈ "ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ
ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧‧‧" 
 ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ʷᵒᵏᵉ ᵉᵃʳˡʸ ᵗᵒ
ˢᵘⁿʳⁱˢᵉ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵉᵃⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ
ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿˢᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ 
ᴴᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ’ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱᶠ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ’ᵈ
ᵃᵗᵗᵉⁿᵈ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ⸴ ʷᵃⁿᵗⁱⁿᵍ
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ
ʳᵉˢᵘᵐⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴼʳ ᵃᵗ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ ᵗᵒ
ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵍᵉᵗˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ʷᵃˢ
ʷᵃⁿᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵃˡˡ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʰᵉʳ
ʰᵉ ˢⁿᵉᵃᵏˢ ᵗᵒ
ᵈⁱᶠᶠᵉʳᵉⁿᵗ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵃˡˡ‧ 
“ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ…” ᔆʰᵉ
ʷᵃˢ ˢᵘʳᵖʳⁱˢᵉᵈ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵉˣᵖˡᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ
ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʳᵒʷᵇᵃʳ⸴ ʰᵒʷ 
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵏᵒⁿᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵃ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗ‧ 
“ᵀʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵒ
ᵐᵘᶜʰ ˡᵒᵒᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵘᵗᵎ ᴴᵉ
ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵖᵉˢᵗᵉʳ 
ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ⁱᵗ…” “ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ; ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ 
ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ⁱᵗ ⁿᵉᶜᵉˢˢᵃʳʸ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʸᵒᵘ…”
ᴴᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢⁱᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ
ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ᶠᵘˡˡʸ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ‧
 "ʸᵉˢᵗᵉʳᵈᵃʸ'ˢ ᵃ ᵇˡᵘʳ‧‧‧"
"ᴵ ᵇᵉᵗ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧" ᴶᵘˢᵗ
ᵗʰᵉⁿ⸴ ᵃⁿᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵏⁿᵒᶜᵏ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ‧ 
ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧ “ᴵ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᶠᵃˢᵗ
ᵃˢ ᴵ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ‧ ᴵ ᵖˡᵃⁿⁿᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ˡᵉᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ
ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ‧” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ
ᵉˣᵖˡᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ‧ “ᴸᵉᵗ'ˢ ᵍᵒ…”
ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃᶰᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵉᶠᵗ‧

new plankarenbob bobplank spankton plongebob splankton plankbob spongeton fraternization

A JOURNEY TO AUTISM viii

(Autistic author)


Plankton's antennas 
lift slightly. "Game," he 
whispers, his voice 
shaking. "Just game."

Mr. Krabs' eyes narrow, 
his claws tense. "If it's 
just a game, then why 
are you acting so 
strange?" he snaps at
Plankton.

Plankton's antennas 
wobble with effort 
to maintain control.

"Because," he starts, his 
voice shaky, "Plankton... 
different."

Mr. Krabs stares at 
Sponge Bob, his 
expression unyielding. 
"Different?" he echoes, 
his eyes darting to 
Plankton, then back to 
his employee.

Sponge Bob nods, his 
voice trembling. "Yes, 
Mr. Krabs, Plankton's 
been through something 
that's changed him."
He looks at Karen for 
support, but she stays 
silent, her eyes 
reflecting a mix of 
concern and hope.

Mr. Krabs crosses his 
arms, his eyebrow 
quivering with skepticism. 
"What do you mean, 
changed him?" he asks.
"Is he trying to steal 
the Krabby Patty formular 
again?"

Sponge Bob's 
frustration rises. "No, 
Mr. Krabs," he says, 
his voice steady. "It's 
not like that. Plankton 
has... a condition."

Mr. Krabs' 
skepticism turns to 
curiosity. "Condition?" 
he repeats, his voice 
softer.

Sponge Bob nods, 
swallowing the lump 
in his throat. "He's 
been diagnosed with acquired
autism," he explains, 
his voice barely above 
a whisper.

Mr. Krabs' eyes widen, 
his mouth dropping open
as the words sink in.
He turns to Karen, his gaze 
demanding confirmation.
"Is it true?" he asks, 
his voice gruff.

Karen nods solemnly, 
her circuits flickering 
with a mix of 
sadness and hope.
"Yes," she says gently. 
"Plankton has 
an acquired 
form of autism."

Mr. Krabs' expression 
shifts from skepticism 
to shock. He looks 
at Plankton. 
"Autism?" he repeats, 
his voice barely above 
a murmur. "But... but 
how?"

Karen's LED lights 
dim slightly. "I don't
think he'd like to answer
that question" she says, 
her voice clinical. "It's 
caused a significant 
shift in his neural 
functioning."

Mr. Krabs' gaze 
remains on Plankton, 
his expression one 
of dawning 
understanding. "Was 
me fry pan..." he starts, 
his voice trailing off.

Plankton's antennas 
drop, and he 
nods slowly. "Yes," he 
whispers. "Krabs pan."

Mr. Krabs' face 
crumbles, his 
claws clenching into 
fists. "I didn't mean to," 
he stammers, his voice 
choking with regret. "I 
was just trying to keep 
me formular safe."

Plankton's antennas 
twitch, his single eye 
welling with unshed 
tears.

Mr. Krabs' guilt is 
palpable, his eyes 
swimming with 
remorse. "I'm sorry, 
Plankton," he says 
hoarsely. "I had no idea."

But Plankton's gaze 
doesn't soften. His 
stare is unyielding, 
his voice cold.

"Sorry not enough," he says, 
his words clipped. 
"Hurt, Mr. Krabs 
hurt Plankton bad."

Mr. Krabs' heart squeezes 
at the accusation in 
Plankton's voice. He's 
never heard him speak 
like this before, with such 
raw emotion.

"I know," he says 
remorsefully, his 
voice cracking. "I know 
I hurt you, Plankton. I'm 
so, so sorry."

But Plankton's 
unforgiving gaze 
doesn't waver. "No," 
he insists, his voice 
still cold. "Not just sorry.
Mr. Krabs must understand."

Mr. Krabs nods, 
his eyes brimming with 
tears. "I do," he 
chokes out. "I understand.
What can I do to help?"

Plankton's antennas 
still don't move, his 
expression unreadable.

Mr. Krabs' reaches for
Plankton's shoulder.
That's the last straw.
With a burst of 
energy, Plankton 
pushes away the 
clawed hand. "No 
touch," he snaps, his 
voice cold. "Mr. Krabs 
not understand." His 
words are like shards of 
ice, each one cutting 
deeper into Mr. Krabs' 
guilt.

Mr. Krabs' face falls, 
his hand retreating 
quickly. "But I do," 
he insists, his voice 
desperate. "I swear, 
Plankton, I do."

But Plankton's 
expression remains 
stony, his antennas 
rigid. "No," he says 
simply. "Krabs don't." His 
voice is a knife, slicing 
through the tension 
in the room.

Mr. Krabs' eyes 
water, his heart 
heavy with regret. "I 
swear, Plankton," he 
pleads. "I'll do anything 
to make it right."

But Plankton's 
gaze remains 
steady, his 
unforgiving gaze 
bearing into Mr. 
Krabs' soul. "Make right?"
he echoes. "Cannot make 
right. Cannot change. Krabs
fault."

Mr. Krabs' shoulders 
sag with the weight 
of Plankton's words. 
He knows his rival is 
right; he can't reverse 
what's been done, 
no matter how much he 
wishes it. "But I want 
to help," he says 
desperately. "Please, tell 
me how..."

But Plankton's 
expression is a 
mask of coldness, 
his antennas unyielding. 
"Help?" he echoes, his 
voice dripping with 
skepticism. "Krabs 
can't help." His gaze 
slides to the 
discarded chessboard, 
his eyes lingering 
on the scattered 
pieces. "Too late."

Mr. Krabs' shoulders 
sag with the weight 
of Plankton's rejection. 
"Please," he says 
desperately. "I didn't 
know. I just want to 
make it better."

But Plankton's 
unforgiving gaze 
doesn't falter. His 
stare is a mirror 
reflecting Mr. Krabs' 
own guilt and regret. 
"Better?" he repeats, 
his voice devoid of 
emotion. "Cannot be.
No cure. Just stop."

Mr. Krabs' eyes 
well with tears, his 
heart aching with 
the pain of his 
mistake. "But I want 
to fix it," he says 
pleadingly. "I want to 
make it right."

But Plankton's gaze 
doesn't soften. "No fix," 
he says flatly. "Cannot 
change what is." His 
single eye seems to 
bore into Mr. Krabs, 
his voice unyielding.
"Krabs hurt Plankton. 
Krabs must live with."

Mr. Krabs hangs 
his head, his 
shoulders heaving with 
sobs. "I'm sorry," he 
whispers, his voice 
breaking. "I'll do anything."

But Plankton 
simply shakes his 
head, his antennas 
still. "Cannot change," 
he murmurs. "Must live 
with." His eye are 
empty, devoid of the 
malicious spark that 
once fueled his quest 
for the Krabby Patty 
formula. Normally
Plankton would love to 
cause such a reaction
out of Mr. Krabs.

Mr. Krabs' 
sobs grow louder, his 
guilt consuming him. 
"But I didn't mean 
to," he wails. "It was 
just a mistake."

Plankton's antennas 
twitch slightly. "Mistake," 
he echoes, his voice 
still cold. "Mistake 
not enough." His eye 
are unrelenting, his 
stare piercing through 
Mr. Krabs' soul. "You hurt 
me," he says, his 
words a quiet thunder 
clap in the tense silence. 
"Mistake changed me."

Mr. Krabs looks up, 
his eyes red with tears. 
"I know," he says, his 
voice thick with regret. "I 
know I hurt you, Plankton. 
Yet I didn't know how bad..."

But Plankton's 
expression is one of 
resentment, his antennas 
twitching with anger. 
"Hurt," he says, his 
voice cold. "Krabs hurt 
Plankton. Krabs must 
understand." His gaze 
doesn't waver from Mr. 
Krabs, his accusation 
hangs in the air like a 
heavy fog.

Mr. Krabs' sobs 
quiet, his eyes 
swimming with regret. 
He opens his mouth to 
speak, but the words 
catch in his throat. 
"I do underst--"

"No," Plankton 
interrupts, his 
voice like a whip. "You 
don't." His antennas 
wave with agitation, 
his eye flashing with 
a cold fire. "You don't 
understand pain." His 
words are sharp, 
cutting through Mr. 
Krabs' protests.

Mr. Krabs' 
expression falls, his 
claws trembling. "I 
see that now," he 
whispers, his voice 
racked with emotion. "But 
what can I do?" His 
desperation is clear, 
his eyes searching Plankton's 
face for any sign of 
forgiveness. "I'd even give
you a krabby patty.."

But Plankton's 
expression doesn't 
change. His antennas 
remain rigid, his eye 
still cold. "Krabby 
Patty not fix," he says 
simply. "Cannot fix 
brain." His voice is 
matter-of-fact, his 
tone unyielding.

Mr. Krabs' eyes 
widen, his hope 
dashed. "But I'll do 
anything," he insists, 
his voice desperate.

But Plankton's 
unforgiving gaze 
remains unmoved. 
"Anything?" he repeats, 
his tone mocking. "Can 
you give me back my 
mind?" His antennas 
wave in frustration.
"Do leave, Krabs. Can
leave."

Mr. Krabs' 
expression falls, his 
claws hanging limp at 
his sides. "But Plankton," 
he begs. "We can work 
together, I can help 
you get better."

But Plankton's 
face is a wall of 
coldness, his antennas 
waving with anger. 
"No better," he says 
firmly. "Only live 
now." His words are a 
reflection of the stark 
reality that Mr. 
Krabs had ignored.

Mr. Krabs' eyes 
fill with tears, his 
claws clutching at 
his chest. "I hurt you 
so badly, Plankton. But I 
can't live with this," 
he sobs.

"I know Krabs sorry now.
Yet I last registered Krabs
laughter as I fainted from
the impact. Even if Krabs
didn't mean to, Krabs did.
So goodbye, Eugene Krabs."

The room grew silent as
the gravity of Plankton's words
settled heavily upon Mr. Krabs.
He hadn't considered that his
foolishness could lead to such
a profound change in his rival.

Mr. Krabs looked at Plankton,
his eyes brimming with
desperation. "If I can go back
and sacrifice my life to..."

"Can't. Perhaps can find peace
but for now, goodbye."

The finality in Plankton's voice
was a slap to Mr. Krabs' face,
his hope crumbling like
sand through his claws.
He staggered back, his
eyes wide with shock.

Sponge Bob's heart ached,
his hands clenched into fists
at his sides as he watched
the exchange unfold.
He knew Mr. Krabs was 
suffering, but he couldn't 
ignore the pain in 
Plankton's voice either.

Mr. Krabs' sobs grew 
louder, his body 
shaking with the weight 
of his guilt. "Please, 
Plankton," he begged.

But Plankton's gaze 
remained on the 
chessboard, his 
hands tracing the 
pattern of the 
squares, his antennas 
were still, his body 
a statue of cold 
resolve.

Mr. Krabs' sobs 
turned to sniffs as 
he took in Plankton's 
unyielding stance. He 
knew his rival well 
and he could see 
the deep-seated pain 
that lay beneath the 
surface of his words. 
With a heavy heart, he 
nodded. "I'll let ye
space then. I never wanted
to lose ye."

Plankton turns away.

Mr. Krabs' eyes grew 
large with sadness, his 
body quivering with 
the weight of his 
mistakes. "SpongeBob 
I'll give ye time off work as
long as you need to when for
Plankton. Goodbye, 
Plankton," he choked out.
He left the chum bucket.

new a journey to autism plabscore viii

"Come on, Sheldon," Krabs said. 
"You get that patty back here, I'm warning ye."

Sheldon Plankton had tried countless times to steal the recipe, but Mr. Krabs had always been a step ahead. 

Plankton whined. "I've got a restaurant to run too, you know."

Krabs ignored the protest, his beady eyes never leaving the control panel of his latest contraption. Plankton felt a prick and looked to see a small dart.

"Whoah.." He managed to squeak before the world started to spin around him. His legs felt like gelatin, and he could see the edges of his vision blurring as the tranquilizer began to take effect.

Krabs cackled with satisfaction as he watched Plankton frame wobble. "That, me hearty, was yer ticket to a little... unscheduled nap. Now, don't go anywhere, I've got business to attend to." 

The tranquilizer spread through Plankton's body, turning his muscles to jelly. His eye grew heavier, his thoughts slowing to a crawl. As the darkness claimed him, he was vaguely aware of the cold steel surrounding him, the echoes of his own voice bouncing around the chamber. "What are you planning, Krabs?" he slurred, the words barely audible through his fading consciousness.

He couldn't let Krabs win again. He got the dart off himself, but not before it'd take effect.

He noticed a lever that looked out of place, and with a hopeful thought, he threw himself at it. His tiny form hit the lever with surprising force, and he heard the sound of gears grinding to life. The walls of the chamber began to vibrate, and a faint light grew in the distance.
Plankton stumbled towards the light. It grew brighter, revealing a small hatch, turning his thoughts into a thick fog. He had to focus on the light, on the escape that lay before him.

With a herculean effort, he managed to pull himself to the hatch. The metal was cold and slick with condensation. He fumbled with the lock, his tiny hands slipping off repeatedly. Each failed attempt was met with a groan of frustration that seemed to echo through the chamber. But Plankton's resolve was unyielding. He had to get out. He had to show Krabs that he wasn't going down without a fight.

As the tranquilizer continued to take hold, Plankton's movements grew more erratic, his coordination slipping away like grains of sand through his fingers. His vision narrowed to a pinprick, the light from the hatch the only thing keeping him tethered to reality. His breaths grew shallower, his heartbeat a distant drum in his chest. He could feel the darkness closing in, the sedative's embrace threatening to pull him under.

He tried to focus on the hatch, his eye crossing with the effort. The lever was his lifeline, and he had to get it open. But his hands, once so nimble, now felt like overstuffed sausages attached to his wrists. He slapped at the metal, his fingertips barely grazing the edge. Each failure brought with it a wave of drowsiness that threatened to swamp him.

"Must... stay... awake," he mumbled, his voice barely more than a whisper. The light from the hatch grew more enticing, beckoning him to give in to the warm embrace of sleep. But Plankton had faced worse than a simple nap before. He'd been flattened, shrunk, and even temporarily turned into a Krabby Patty. This was just another hurdle in the never-ending saga of his life.

The world around him swayed. His thoughts were as elusive. He knew he was close to losing consciousness, and with it, any hope of victory. With a tremendous effort, he focused his gaze on the hatch, willing his arms to move. His body felt like it was made of cooked spaghetti, but he had to keep fighting.

"Open... open...," he murmured, his voice a hoarse whisper. His hand reached for the lever, slipping off several times before finally catching it. The metal was cold and slippery against his skin, but he held on, his determination stronger than the tranquilizer's grip. He pushed with all his might, his eye sliding shut against his will.

The hatch gave a little, and a burst of cool, fresh water spurted out. The sensation brought a moment of clarity, and Plankton realized that he had to act fast before he lost the battle against his heavy eyelid. He gritted his teeth and pushed with everything he had, the lethargy in his limbs slowly dissipating. The hatch groaned in protest before swinging open with a metallic screech.

The chamber floor tilted and spun beneath him, and he barely registered the rush of water that flooded the room. His eyesight swimming with stars, Plankton threw himself through the opening, his body landing with a thump in a narrow, pipe-like corridor beyond. The water sloshed around him, carrying him away from the chamber. He had no idea where the pipe led, but it was a path to freedom, and he had to follow it.

The tranquilizer made his thoughts as murky as the water around him. He tried to remember the layout of the Chum Bucket, but it was like trying to piece together a jigsaw puzzle that had been tossed into a blender. His brain felt as though it was wrapped in seaweed, each thought a struggle to form. Plankton knew he had to keep moving, but his body didn't seem to agree. His eyelids drooped, threatening to close and pull him into the abyss of sleep.

The pipe leads him right to SpongeBob.

"W-who...what...wha...?" Plankton slurred as the water receded, his legs still feeling like they were made of rubber. His eye blinked rapidly, trying to adjust to the sudden brightness of the lights outside the chamber. He found himself face to face with a concerned SpongeBob, who was staring at him with wide, innocent eyes.

"Plankton?" Sponge Bob's voice was filled with confusion. "What are you doing here?"

Plankton tried to speak, but all that came out was a garbled mess of words. "K-Krabs...tranq-tranq...recipe...nap..."

SpongeBob's confusion grew with every incoherent syllable that tumbled from Plankton's mouth. "What's going on, buddy?"

"Sponge Bob...sorry...so sleepy," Plankton murmured, voice childlike. "Krabs...put me to beddy-bye...but no nap-nap."

Sponge Bob looked around, his spongy brow furrowed. "Mr. Krabs didn't do anything to you, did he?" Concern etched into his porous features as he bent down to help. Plankton was a persistent pest, but Sponge Bob had a soft spot for the tiny creature. He knew deep down that Plankton's heart was in the right place, even if his methods were...less than desirable.

The corridor grew dimmer as the sedative dragged Plankton under. His voice grew quieter, his words slurring into a sleepy lilt. "Krabs...so sneaky...sleepy...patty...nap time..." His eye rolled back and his body went limp. The tranquilizer had done its job, and now Plankton was out cold.

"Oh no, not another one of Mr. Krabs' contraptions!" He didn't know what the crab had been up to, but he knew he had to help. Gently, he propped Plankton up.

The sight of the sleep dart on the ground was the clue he needed. "Oh, Plankton," he whispered, his heart sinking. He tried shaking him gently, calling his name in a soft, urgent voice. Plankton's head lolled back, but he remained deeply asleep.

"Wake up, Plankton," Sponge Bob pleaded, patting his cheek with a spongy hand.
Plankton remained unresponsive. "Mr. Krabs, what have you done?" He whispered to himself, his heart racing.

In all their years of rivalry, Krabs had never used a tranquilizer on his arch-nemesis. This was a new low, even for the penny-pinching crustacean.

"Come on, Plankton," Sponge Bob said, his voice a mix of worry and determination. "You can't just nap here like a jellyfish." He didn't flinch. His eye remained closed, his chest rising and falling in a rhythmic pattern as he breathed in and out, completely oblivious to the world around him.

Krabs had gone too far. He had to get him out somewhere safe where he could sleep off the tranquilizer. Sponge Bob had to get Plankton back to the Chum Bucket, where he could wake up safely.

"Karen, Karen!" Sponge Bob called out as he laid Plankton down on the cold, metal floor of his lab. "Look what happened!"
"Oh dear, Sponge Bob," she said, her voice synthetic but filled with worry. "Mr. Krabs really outdid himself this time."
Sponge Bob nods. He gently patted his friend's cheek, willing him to stir. "Plankton, come on, wake up," he whispered, his voice thick with concern. Plankton was out for the count, so they wait the sedative to wear off.

Plankton's features in sleep, his mouth slightly open, emitting faint snores that were barely audible. Even his eyebrow, which often furrowed in determination or anger, were now soft arches on his forehead.

But as the tranquilizer's grip slowly loosened, the first stirrings of consciousness began to ripple through. His eye flickered open, and for a moment, he stared up at the unfamiliar ceiling, blinking in confusion. The world was a blur of colors and shapes that slowly began to resolve themselves into the familiar surroundings of his Chum Bucket lab.

Groaning, Plankton blinked and slowly, the room came into focus. Karen's screens were alight with concern, and Sponge Bob hovered over him, his spongy hands wringing together nervously.

"Wha...?" Plankton mumbled, but everything came rushing back to him. "Krabs," he spat.

Sponge Bob looked down at him with a mix of confusion and relief. "You were...uh, you were tranquilized," Sponge Bob explained, his voice tentative. Plankton's eye narrowed, and a low growl built in his throat. The fuzzy memories of the chamber and Krabs' laughter grew sharper.

"That cheap, slimy...crustacean! Where is he?"

"Mr. Krabs isn't here," he said. "I brought you here."

Plankton's gaze sharpened, his curiosity piqued. "Why would you do that?" he slurred, his voice thick with distrust. "You work for him."

Sponge Bob's expression was earnest. "Because, Plankton, sometimes doing what's right is more important than where you work. Besides, I'm quitting my job and will work for you; it's what friends do."

new plankarenbob krabbobton bodyhorrorcore tranqed AI Story Generator

ᵀᵒ ᴴᵉᵃˡˢ
⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾
ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵉᵗ ᵃ ˢʰᵃʳᵖ ᶜˡᵃᵐᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʳᵃᵖ 
ⁿᵉᵃʳ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᶠᵉ ʰᵒˢᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ‧
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ʷᵉᵃᵏ
ᶜʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵃⁿᵗᵉⁿⁿᵃᵉ ⁿᵉᵃʳˡʸ ᶜᵘᵗ ⁱⁿ
ʰᵃˡᶠ⸴ ᵃˢᵏᵉʷ‧ ᴴᵉ ᶜᵃʳʳⁱᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵃ ˡᵒᶜᵃˡ
ᶜˡⁱⁿⁱᶜ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜˡⁱⁿⁱᶜⁱᵃⁿˢ ᵈᵉᵉᵐᵉᵈ ʰᵒʷ'ˢ
ⁱⁿ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵒᶠ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳᵛᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿ‧ "ᴷⁱᵈ ˢᵗᵃʸ ʷⁱᵗʰ
ᵐᵉ⸴ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵖˡᵉᵃᵈᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ
ᵉⁿᵗᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉʳʸ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵗᵃʸ
ʷʰᵉⁿᶜᵉ ʷᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ᵇᵘᵗ ʷᵃⁱᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵉᵈᵃᵗⁱᵛᵉˢ
ᵗᵒ ᵏⁱᶜᵏ ⁱⁿ; ʷᵉ'ˡˡ ᶜᵃˡˡ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ʷʰᵉⁿᶜᵉ ʷᵉ
ᶠⁱⁿⁱˢʰ ᵘᵖ‧" ᵀʰᵉ ᶜˡⁱⁿⁱᶜⁱᵃⁿ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧
ᴾᵃⁱⁿ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʰⁱˢ ᵃⁿᵗᵉⁿⁿᵃᵉ ʳᵃᵈⁱᵃᵗᵉᵈ
ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ‧ "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵘᵖ
ᵗᵒ ᵖᵃʳ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵇᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃˢ ʸᵒᵘ
ᶠᵃˡˡ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵏᵉ‧
ᴵ'ᵐ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇʸ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ
ʷⁱˡˡ ᵇᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱᵗ‧‧" ᔆᵃʸˢ
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ⸴ ˡᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʳᵉˢᵗ ᵃ
ʰᵃⁿᵈ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ‧ 'ᵂʰᵃᵗ ᵃ ʰᵉᶜᵗⁱᶜ ᵈᵃʸ‧‧'
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵍʳⁱᵖ ᵉᵃˢᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉᵈˢ
ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖʸ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ
ᵗᵒ ᵏⁿᵒᶜᵏ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ "ᵂᵉˡˡ ᴹʳ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ
ᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵉᵗᵉˡʸ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳ ˢᵒ
ʷᵉ'ˡˡ ˡᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵉⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ʰᵉ ʷᵃᵏᵉˢ
ᵘᵖ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏᵉᵈ
ᵗʰᵉ ᶜˡⁱⁿⁱᶜⁱᵃⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ‧
ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᵒᶠ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒʷ
ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᵖʰᵒⁿᵉ ʳⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃⁿˢʷᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ 
ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵉⁿᵈ‧ 'ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷᵉ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ˢⁱᵗᵘᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵃ
ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿⁿᵒᵗ ᵈʳⁱᵛᵉ⸴ ˢᵒ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵖⁱᶜᵏ ᵘᵖ ᵐᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ 
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃᵗ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜˡⁱⁿⁱᶜ' ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʸ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗʰᵉ
ʷᵃⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶠᵒʳ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ‧
ᵀʰᵉ ᶜˡⁱⁿⁱᶜⁱᵃⁿ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵇᵒᵗʰ
ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉʳʸ‧ "ᵂᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ
ᶠⁱⁿⁱˢʰᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ⁿᵒʷ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ
ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ ʸᵉᵗ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵉˣᵖᵉᶜᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉ
ᵉᵐᵒᵗⁱᵒⁿᵃˡ ᶜᵒⁿᶠᵘˢⁱᵒⁿ ᵇᵉʰᵃᵛⁱᵒᵘʳ
ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵉˢ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ᵃⁿ
ᵃⁿᵃᵉˢᵗʰᵉᵗⁱˢᵉᵈ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵉ‧" "ᵀʰᵃⁿᵏˢ‧‧"
'ᵂʰᵃᵗ⁻ ʷʰᵒ⁻ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃᵐ⁻' ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ
ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ⸴ ᵇᵃʳᵉˡʸ ᶜᵒʰᵉʳᵉⁿᵗ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗˢ ᵃˢ
ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ‧ "ᴸᵉᵗ ᵐᵉ
ˢᵉᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵉʸᵉ‧‧" ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵃ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉ‧ ᴴᵉ ⁿᵒʷ
ˢᵃʷ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵃˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉˡⁱᵈ ᶠˡᵘᵗᵗᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ
ᵒᵖᵉⁿ ˢˡᵒʷˡʸ‧ "ᵂʰᵉⁿ’ᵈ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᶠʳᵉᵉ
ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ʰᵒᵐᵉ; ᵃˡˡ'ˢ ᵈᵒⁿᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈⁱᵈ
ˢᵒ ᵍʳᵉᵃᵗ!" ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜˡⁱⁿⁱᶜⁱᵃⁿ‧ "ᴸᵒᵒᵏ
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ; ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ
ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗⁱˡᵗᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ
ᵗᵒ ᵃ ˢᵉᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵘᵖʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵖᵒˢⁱᵗⁱᵒⁿ‧ "ᴵ ᵖʳᵒᵐⁱˢᵉ
ʸᵒᵘ'ˡˡ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ⁿᵒʳᵐᵃˡ ⁱⁿ ⁿᵒ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵃᵗ ᵃˡˡ!"
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ
ˢᵉᵃᵗ ᵃˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵈʳⁱᵛᵉˢ ᵗʰᵉᵐ‧ "ᵂʰʸ ᵈᵒ
ᴵ ᶠᵉᵉˡ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵃⁿᵗᵉⁿⁿᵃˢ ⁱⁿ
ᶜᵃᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠⁱˣᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵉᵃᶜʰ ᵃⁿᵗᵉⁿⁿᵃ
ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵃˡˡ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵉᵃⁿᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵉᵃᵛⁱˡʸ ᵈᵒᶻⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ
ʷᵒᵏᵉ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵃʳʳⁱᵛᵉᵈ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵗ
ᵃᵐᵒᵉᵇᵃ ᵖᵘᵖᵖʸ ᵗʳᵒᵗᵗᵉᵈ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵉᵈ
ˢⁱᵈᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒʷⁿᵉʳ‧ "ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵇʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧"
ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ˢᵉᵗᵗˡᵉᵈ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ⁿᵒʷ'ˢ
ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ˢᵗᵃʸᵉᵈ‧
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵒᵗ ʳⁱᵈ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵉᵛⁱᶜᵉ
ᵒᶠ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵒ ᵃˢ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉˡᵖ ᶠʳᵒᵐ
ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵒⁿˡʸ
ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ʳᵉᵍᵘˡᵃʳⁱᵗʸ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ʰⁱˢ
ᵃⁿᵗᵉⁿⁿᵃᵉ ʰᵉᵃˡᵉᵈ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉˢᵗ
ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ
ˢᵃⁱᵈ⸴ ᵃˢ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧‧

new spongebob/plankton plankarenbob wordcount: 100-500 Karen & SpongeBob SquarePants Phone Calls & Telephones waking up healing and caring to heals

NEUROBEHAVIORAL PLANKTON iv
(Autistic author) (see notes below)
* ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴs ᴏғ ᴅɪsᴄʀɪᴍɪɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴ
But Plankton's 
frustration had 
reached a boiling 
point. His voice 
was a thunderclap 
in the small room, 
his eye flashing 
with a rage he 
couldn't contain. 
"You don't know!"
he roared, his 
body shaking.

Hanna took another 
step back, her 
heart racing. "I'm 
sorry, Plankton, I 
truly didn't mean to 
upset you," she said, 
her voice shaking.

Plankton's gaze 
shifted to the door, 
his mind racing 
to the safety of 
his solitude. "You 
don't know," he 
murmured, his anger 
subsiding slightly. 
The sudden silence 
was like a balm 
to his raw nerves.
But Hanna's curiosity
angered him further.
"Plankton, what..."

"I DON'T KNOW!" Plankton's 
voice pierced the 
silence, his frustration 
at an all-time high.
Hanna's eyes grew 
wider.

"I'll leave you 
alone," she said 
quickly, her voice 
quiet and soothing. 
But as she turned 
to go, she 
accidentally brushed 
against his arm.

Plankton's reaction 
was instant and 
explosive. He 
jerked away, his 
body tensing, his 
eye flashing with 
anger. "Don't touch me!" 
he snapped, his voice 
sharp and jagged.

Hanna's eyes wide with 
shock. "Plankton
tell me what's..."

But Plankton had 
reached his limit. 
The touch, the 
questions, the 
expectation of 
normalcy—it was 
all too much. He 
felt personally
attacked, now on
a roll.

"You don't know 
what's what?" he 
spat out, his 
voice a whip crack. 
"You come in here, 
invading my space, 
without a care in 
the world for 
what I'm going 
through!"

Hanna took 
another step 
back, retracting 
quickly. "I'm sorry, 
I didn't know," she 
whispered, her eyes 
filling with 
sorrow. "Karen never 
mentioned..."
But Plankton's 
frustration had 
become anger, 
his next words cutting 
like a knife.

"You don't know 
anything," he 
snarled, his 
voice laced with 
bitterness. "You come 
in here, asking your 
stupid questions, 
expecting me to be 
the same person I 
was before!" 
"Before what, Plankton?"
Yet Plankton's not wanting
to answer Hanna so he
yells his next words at 
the top of his lungs.
"Before I...I...
YOU KNOW
WHAT? IT'S
NONE OF YOUR
BUSINESS!" Plankton's
voice cracked with
the effort of
his outburst, but he's
just getting started,
now he's on a roll, his
next words being worse.
"I don't want you 
here. I don't need 
you here," Plankton 
spat out, his 
frustration a 
palpable force 
in the room.

Hanna took 
another step 
back, her 
eyes brimming 
with unshed tears. 
"I'm sorry," she 
whispered, her voice 
barely audible. "I 
was just trying 
to..."

But Plankton's 
anger had taken 
over. "You're not 
helping!" he 
shouted, his voice 
raw with emotion. 
"You don't get to 
decide what I need!" 
He was on his 
feet now, his 
body rigid with 
frustration. "I don't 
want you to know!"
"Know what, Plankton?
You don't get 
to decide what I 
can and can't know," 
she said, her voice 
firm. But Karen's
now returned with
the smoothie, both
Hanna and Plankton
too wrapped up to
notice her presence.
"You think you can 
just waltz in here 
and fix everything?" 
his voice was a 
growl now. "You think 
you know what it's 
like to be trapped 
in here?" He tapped 
his head with 
his finger, his 
eye wild. "You don't 
know anything!"
Now Hanna's getting
real angry.
"You think you're 
the only one 
suffering?" Hanna 
countered, her 
voice rising. "What 
about Karen? What 
about the people 
who actually care 
about you?"
Plankton's 
gaze snapped to 
hers, his anger 
fueled by her words. 
"You don't know 
what it's like!" he 
shouted, his voice 
echoing through 
the empty space 
of the Chum 
Bucket. "You don't 
know what it's like 
to have the world 
make no sense! 
To be trapped 
in your own head!"
Hanna's 
expression softened 
slightly. "I'm 
sorry," she said 
gently. "I really am. 
But you can't just 
push everyone away."
"Why not?" Plankton 
demanded, his 
voice a whip crack. 
"Why do I have to 
explain?"
But Hanna's 
concern for 
Karen overrode 
her own fear. 
"Karen's my friend 
and she deserves
better than you
and your little 
tantrums," Hanna 
snapped back.
"Tantrums? TANTRUMS?" 
Plankton's voice 
was a roar now. 
"This isn't a tantrum, 
it's reality!"
Hanna's in a 
defensive posture, 
her eyes flashing with 
anger. "You think 
I don't know what 
real pain is?" she 
shouted back. "You're 
so caught up in your 
own world that you 
can't see what you're 
doing to her, just 
because you're too 
stubborn and acting 
like a child who can't 
deal with the real
world! YOU'RE NOTHING
BUT A BURDENSOME
WASTE OF SPACE! So,
if you can't get your
act together, maybe 
you should just go to
an institution where 
people can handle 
your..." "That's 
enough!" Karen 
snapped. Her voice 
was a whip crack 
across the tension 
filled room, startling both 
Plankton and Hanna. She
couldn't stand
silent any longer. Yet
Plankton's face 
crumpled at
Hanna's threat,
his anger giving 
way to despair. 
Tears began to 
stream down his 
face, his 
body shaking with 
sobs he couldn't 
control.
The sudden shift 
from rage to sorrow 
was like a punch 
to Hanna. 



**NOTEs As an autistic
writer (and I used AI to
help me with the words)
I do not encourage the
ableism people have
shown in their ignorance.
Depending on when and
where you live, some
people have thought 
such therapies might be
good, without actually
accepting nor helping.
Even Hans Asperger
has supported eugenics
during the war, sending
people to internment
camps leading to demise.
I came across the site 
autismmemorial.wordpress.com
if you'd like to educate yourself
about how people have
endured such.*

new neurobehavioral plankton bullycore iv

AUTISM IN THE PLANKTON FAMILY v


(Autistic author)



Sandy had always known him as
quick-witted and sharp-tongued,
now he was a shell of his
former self, retreating at the
slightest touch.

Plankton's antennae twitched.
Karen stepped in, her voice firm
but gentle. "It's ok, Sandy.
We're all still learning."

Sandy looked at the plate of
cookies on the floor, regret
flooding her features. She
knew Plankton had liked her
cookies before, but now...

"I'm sorry," she murmured, her
voice thick with emotion. "I had
no idea." She reached for him
again, but Karen stepped in,
shaking her head gently.

"It's okay," Karen said, her tone
soothing. "But remember, he's not
the same Plankton anymore."
Sandy's hand hovered in the
air, her eyes pleading with
Karen for guidance.

Plankton's antennae continued to
twitch as he stared at the
floor, his body a tightly coiled
spring. Karen stepped closer to him,
placing a hand on his shoulder.
"It's okay," she whispered to him.

Sandy looked at him, her eyes
filled with a mix of pity and
confusion. "Come on, Plankton,"
she said, her voice softening.

But Plankton's antennae remained
still, his gaze fixed on the
floor. Karen knew he was lost
in his own world, unable to
process Sandy's words through the
sensory overload.

Sandy tried again, her voice a
soft coo. "Look at me, Plankton,"
she said, her hand reaching out
once more. But Plankton flinched,
his antennae flattening against
his head.

"No," he murmured, his voice
trembling. "No."

Sandy's face fell, her eyes
wet with regret.

"I didn't mean to scare him,"
she murmured, her voice barely
above a whisper.

"It's ok, Sandy," Karen said,
her hand still on Plankton's
shoulder. "You just need to be
patient with him."
Karen took a deep breath, her
thoughts racing. "It was a fight
with Mr. Krabs," she said, her
words measured. "It...
changed how his brain works."
Plankton's more
sensitive to sounds, lights,
and touch," she explained. "And
his communication is different
now."

Sandy looked from Karen to Plankton,
her eyes filled with
understanding. "I'm sorry," she said,
her voice gentle. "I didn't know."

Hanna, who had been quietly
observing from the corner,
approached the trio, her gaze
filled with empathy. "It's okay,
Sandy," she said. "We're all still
learning."

The door burst open again, and
SpongeBob bounded in, his usual
cheerfulness a stark contrast to
the solemn mood in the room.
"Hi, everyone!" he exclaimed, his
spongey body bouncing with
energy. "What's all the hub..."

"SpongeBob," Plankton 
exclaimed, his antennae
perking up slightly.

SpongeBob's eyes widened in
surprise at the rare display of
joy from Plankton.

The sudden change in Plankton's
demeanor was like a switch had
been flipped. His antennae
stopped twitching, his body
uncoiled slightly. "Sponge Bob,"
he said again, his voice a little
louder this time.

Sponge Bob looked at him with
wonder. "Hi, Plankton!" he said,
his eyes wide. "How are you
feeling?"

Plankton's gaze locked onto
Sponge Bob, and a tentative smile
spread across his face. "Sponge Bob,"
he murmured, his voice filled with
longing.

Sponge Bob's eyes widened with
surprise. "Plankton!" he exclaimed,
his usual cheerfulness amplified.
He moved closer to his friend, his
body language open and welcoming.

Plankton's antennae quivered slightly
as he watched Sponge Bob give
him a gentle pat on the back.
But Plankton didn't flinch this
time. Instead, his antennae curled
forward slightly, as if reaching out for
contact.

Sponge Bob, noticing the subtle
change in his friend, took a seat
beside him. "You okay, buddy?"
he asked, his voice a gentle
whisper.

Plankton nodded, his antennae
quivering with the effort to
stay still. "Sponge Bob good," he
murmured, his eye focusing
on the familiar figure.

Sponge Bob's touch was
comforting, a gentle reminder of
times when the world wasn't so
overwhelming. Plankton's
body slowly relaxed under the
warmth of the friendship.

Sandy and Hanna watched in
silence as Sponge Bob's gentle
presence seemed to soothe Plankton.
His antennae stilled, his body
unfurling slightly from its tight
coil of anxiety.

Sponge Bob, ever the optimist,
beamed at Plankton. "I brought
you some jellyfishing nets," he
offered, holding up a small
sack. "Thought we could go for a
catch, like old times!"

Plankton's antennae shot
straight up, his excitement palpable.
"Jellyfishing?" he asked, his voice
filled with hope.

Sponge Bob's grin grew wider.
"You bet, Plankton!" he exclaimed.
"Just like the good old days!"

Plankton's antennae quivered with
excitement. "Good," he murmured,
his eye lighting up. The mention
of jellyfishing brought back
memories of simpler times, before
his world had been turned upside
down. "Yes," he murmured, his voice
eager. "Jellyfishing."

Karen watched the interaction
between Sponge Bob and Plankton,
relief washing over her. She knew
how much Sponge Bob had always
meant to Plankton, and seeing
his positive effect was a
comforting balm.

Sponge Bob's presence had
calmed the storm of emotions and
sensory overload that had been
building within Plankton. He was
now sitting up straight in his
chair, his antennae waving slightly
with excitement.

Karen watched them, her heart
swelling with gratitude for Sponge
Bob. She knew that Plankton
needed friends who understood him,
who could navigate the choppy
waters of his new reality. She took
a deep breath, her eyes meeting
Sponge Bob's.

"Sponge Bob," she began, her
voice shaky. "There's something
important I need to tell you."

Sponge Bob looked at her with
concern. "What's up, Karen?"

Karen took a deep breath,
preparing to share the news. "Plankton's
been diagnosed with autism,"
she said softly.

Sponge Bob's smile faltered for a
moment, but he quickly regained
his composure. "What's that, Karen?"
he asked, his voice filled with
curiosity rather than fear.

Karen took a deep breath, her eyes
welling with tears. "It's a condition
that makes his brain work
differently," she explained. "It's like
his senses are on overload, and
sometimes, the world is just too
much for him to handle."

Sponge Bob's eyes grew wide with
concern. "Too much?" he echoed.
"But Plankton's always been so...
so...spirited!"

Karen nodded, her eyes
moist with unshed tears. "It's not
his spirit, Sponge Bob," she said.
"It's just that now, his brain needs
more time to process things.
And some things that didn't bother
him before are really hard for
him now."

Sponge Bob's gaze drifted to
Plankton, who was now playing with
a jellyfishing net, his antennae
still quivering with excitement.

"It was an accident," Karen
continued, her voice thick with
emotion. "A fight with Mr. Krabs."

"A fight?" he echoed, his
spongy body stiffening.

Karen nodded, her gaze
firm. "Mr. Krabs hit him really
hard," she said. "And it changed
his brain."

Sponge Bob looked at Plankton,
his eyes filled with a new
understanding. He reached out
his hand, and Plankton took it,
his antennae relaxing slightly.
"I'm here for you, buddy," he said,
his voice gentle.

"You can stay, but perhaps save
jellyfishing for another day." Says
Karen, as Sandy and Hanna left.

Sponge Bob nodded, his grip
on Plankton's hand firm. "Whatever
you need, Plankton," he said.

new autism in the plankton family plankarenbob v

hiii…,! so ik this is a bio thingie but if youd like heres my discord user name saki20._53454 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

new random…aesthetic.. jellyfishcore

𝐌𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐲🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

new random…aesthetic.. jellyfishcore

𝓜𝓪𝓶𝓪𝓷’𝓼 𝓫𝓲𝓻𝓽𝓱𝓭𝓪𝔂⭒-.⋆🪼⋆.-⭒

new random…aesthetic.. jellyfishcore

A LIFE OF DIVERSITY viii
(Autistic author)

After SpongeBob and Patrick left
Plankton settled for his usual movie 
night. Karen took this time to call 
Sandy, her best friend, a gal pal.

"Sandy, it's Karen," she said, her voice trembling 
slightly. "I need to talk to you about something."

On the other end of the line, Sandy's voice was 
warm and concerned. "Howdy! What's going on
Karen?"

"It's Plankton," Karen began. "He's... changed."

Sandy's voice grew serious. "What happened
Karen?"

"Plankton had an accident," she said, her voice 
shaking. "He hit his head and... well, the doctors 
say he has autism now, and I thought I'd let you know."

Sandy's voice was calm and understanding. "Oh
Karen," she said. "I'm so sorry to hear that. How's 
he handling it?"

Karen sighed heavily. "It's been... a lot," she admitted. 
"He's so focused on jellyfish now, and it's like nothing 
else matters. It's his whole world."

"Wow, that's quite a change," Sandy said, her voice filled 
with empathy. "How's he been with social interactions?"

"Well, that's the thing," she said. "He's been... different. Sometimes, 
it's like he's in his own little world. And other times, like with Patrick, 
he's just... really sensitive."

"Patrick?" Sandy's voice was incredulous. "Patrick made fun of him?"

"Well, not exactly. He just didn't understand," she explained. 
"He said jellyfish were boring, and it really hurt Plankton's 
feelings. The neurodivergence is irreversible, and he's still Plankton."

Sandy's voice was filled with understanding. "But it sounds like he's 
found something that brings him a lot of joy."

"Yeah," Karen agreed, her tentacles relaxing slightly. "But it's hard 
to watch him struggle, you know?"

Sandy's voice was gentle. "I can imagine, Karen. But remember
he's still the same Plankton at heart."

The next day, Sandy arrived at the Chum Bucket, her burly squirrel 
arms holding a treasure trove of various miniature jellyfish figurines. 
She'd spent hours scouring the deepest parts of the ocean for the 
rarest and most detailed jellyfish models she could find. "Hi, Karen!" 
she exclaimed, her voice filled with excitement.

Karen's eyes lit up at the sight of her friend. "Sandy, what's all this?" 
she asked, her tentacles waving in curiosity.

"I heard about Plankton's newfound love for jellyfish," Sandy said 
with a grin, her cheeks red with the excitement of her discovery. "And 
I thought these might help him feel more connected. Where is he?" 
Sandy comes in.

Plankton's sitting in the corner, his jellyfish book open on the floor 
in front of him, surrounded by a sea of scribbled notes and diagrams. 
His gaze didn't leave the page, but his posture straightened at the sound of a 
new presence in the room.

"Plankton," Karen called gently, "Look who's here!"

Plankton's antennae shot up as he looked over at Sandy, his 
eye widening at the sight of a box.

"These are for you," Sandy said, setting the box down in front of him.

Plankton's antennae quivered with excitement as he looked up, his 
monotone voice cracking slightly. "For Plankton?"

Sandy nodded, her smile genuine. "I thought they might make you happy," she 
said, her voice gentle. "They're all different types of jellyfish. Each is unique 
and special, just like you."

Plankton's antennae twitched with excitement as he reached for the box, his 
eye scanning its contents. "Jellyfish," he murmured, his monotone voice filled 
with wonder. "Thanks"

Sandy watched as Plankton carefully removed each figurine, his eye lighting 
up with each new discovery. "You're welcome," she said, her voice warm. "I 
wanted to do something to support you in your newfound passion."

Plankton's antennae quivered with excitement as he examined each jellyfish.
"These are... amazing," he murmured, his monotone voice filled with awe.

Sandy chuckled, her eyes sparkling with happiness. "I'm so glad 
you like them," she said, watching him closely. "They're from all over 
the ocean. Some of them are pretty rare."

Plankton's antennae quivered with excitement as he examined each 
figure. "Rare," he murmured, his monotone voice filled with a new
found enthusiasm. "Rare jellyfish."

Sandy nodded, her eyes bright. "Yeah, 
some of them are," she said, her 
voice filled with excitement. "Do you 
have a favorite type?"

Plankton's antennae twitched as he thought. "Turritopsis dohrnii," he 
murmured. "The immortal jellyfish. It can revert back to its polyp stage 
and start its life cycle again."

Sandy's eyes widened. "Wow, Plankton," she said, impressed. "That's 
really cool."

Plankton looked up from the box, his antennae waving slightly. "You know 
jellyfish?" he asked, his voice monotone yet filled with hope.

Sandy nodded, her eyes shining. "A bit," 
she said, her tail swishing with 
excitement. "But I'd love to learn more 
from an expert like you."

Plankton's antennae quivered with a hint of pride. "Expert," he murmured, his 
monotone voice cracking slightly.

Sandy sat down next to him, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Tell me more 
about them," she urged, her voice gentle.

Plankton's antennae perked up, and he began to speak with a newfound 
energy. "Turritopsis dohrnii," he recited, his monotone voice cracking with 
excitement. "It's a jellyfish that can live forever. If it's injured or stressed, it 
goes back to being a polyp. It's like a rebirth."

Sandy leaned closer, her eyes wide with fascination. "Really?" she said, her voice 
filled with wonder. "That's incredible!"

Plankton's antennae quivered with excitement. "Yes," he murmured, his monotone 
voice growing more animated. "Immortal jellyfish can survive forever. 
Plankton read in book."

Sandy's eyes grew wide with amazement. 
"That's so fascinating, Plankton," she 
said, her voice filled with 
genuine interest. "How do they do that?"

Plankton's antennae quivered with excitement. "When Turritopsis dohrnii is 
hurt, it goes back to polyp," he said, holding up a tiny figurine of the species. 
"Polyp is like jellyfish baby, but it's not baby. It's just jellyfish in different shape."

Sandy nodded, her eyes glued to the miniature figures as Plankton spoke. "That's 
so amazing," she said, her voice filled with wonder. "I've never heard of anything 
like that before."

"Jellyfish are fascinating," Plankton murmured, his antennae waving slightly as 
he picked up another figurine. "This one," he said, holding up a mini model of a 
clear jellyfish, "is called a Burgessomedusa phasmiformis."

Sandy's eyes lit up. "It's like a ghost jellyfish," she said, her voice filled 
with excitement. "I've read about these!"

"Yes," Plankton murmured, his monotone voice cracking with pride. "They're 
very rare and very beautiful."

Sandy nodded, her eyes shining. 
"They are," she agreed, reaching for one of 
the figurines. "How did you learn 
so much about jellyfish?"

Plankton's antennae twitched slightly 
as he paused in his examination 
of the ghostly jellyfish. "Plankton read 
book," he murmured.

Sandy nodded, her eyes still 
on the delicate figurine. "What 
else?" she 
asked, her voice filled 
with genuine curiosity.

Plankton's antennae quivered as he searched his memory. "Book say... that 
jellyfish are ancient creatures, with some species over 500 million years old."

Sandy's eyes grew wide with amazement. "Wow, Plankton," she said, her voice 
filled with admiration. "You really know your stuff. Can I ask a question?"

Plankton nodded, his antennae twitching with excitement. "Question," he 
murmured.

Sandy took a deep breath, her eyes 
on the book. "What was the accident, 
Plankton?" she asked gently. "How 
did you hit your head?"

Plankton's antennae drooped slightly, 
the excitement draining from 
his voice. "Krabs," he murmured, his 
monotone cracking. "Mr. Krabs. Angry."

"What happened, Plankton?"

Plankton's antennae twitched as he looked up at Sandy, his 
eye wide with the memory. "Mr. Krabs," he murmured, his 
monotone voice filled with a sudden urgency. "Mr. Krabs 
slammed cash register on Plankton's head, then Plankton 
woke up in hospital."

Sandy's smile faltered, her eyes filled with concern. "Oh
Plankton," she said, her voice gentle.

"Woke up," he murmured. "In hospital. Everything different."

Karen looked at him, her expression gentle. "What do you remember?"

Plankton paused, antennae quivering 
as he tried to piece together 
the jumbled memories. "Car," he 
murmured finally. "Long ride."

"The hospital," Karen said, stroking his back gently. "You were in a 
hospital for a bit after the accident."

Plankton's antennae twitched as he nodded, his monotone 
voice cracking. "Yes, hospital," he murmured. "Doctors talked, 
but Plankton didn't understand."

Sandy leaned in, her eyes filled with sympathy. "They told you 
about your autism?" she asked softly.

Plankton nodded, his antennae drooping. "Karen said it's why 
Plankton thinks differently," he murmured.

Sandy nodded, her eyes filled with empathy. "It's okay to think 
differently, Plankton," she said.

Plankton's antennae twitched slightly. "Different," he murmured, his 
monotone voice filled with a hint of confusion. "But... Plankton good 
at jellyfish."

Sandy nodded, her eyes filled with understanding. "You are," she 
said, her voice firm. "And that's something amazing. Your brain 
works in ways that let you understand jellyfish better than anyone 
else."

Plankton looked at her, his antennae perking up slightly. "Better 
than anyone?" he asked, his monotone voice 
filled with a hint of doubt.

"Absolutely," Sandy said, her voice firm. 

new a life of diversity jellyfishcore viii

A JOURNEY TO AUTISM v

(Autistic author)

SpongeBob picks up his cards 
and looks for any 
twos. "Got any twos?"
he asks, trying to 
keep the peace.

But Plankton's focus 
has shifted, his 
eye no longer on the 
game. "Fish," he says 
again, his voice 
desperate.
Sponge Bob's patience 
snaps like a dry 
twig. "Plankton, enough 
with the fish!" he 
exclaims, tossing his cards 
down onto the floor. 
The sudden movement 
startles Plankton, and 
his antennas retract 
slightly.
"What's wrong with 
you!" Sponge Bob asks, 
his voice shaking with 
frustration. "You're not 
the same, Plankton."
Plankton's antennas 
wobble, and his 
eye darts around the 
room, unable to 
meet Sponge Bob's gaze. 
"Fish," he whispers, his 
voice lost.

SpongeBob's frustration was 
palpable in the tense air of the 
Chum Bucket, his eyes wide with 
confusion. He had always known 
Plankton to be a master of 
manipulation and cunning wit, so 
seeing him in such a repetitive state 
was unsettling. He didn't understand 
why his friend's world had narrowed 
down to a simple game of Go Fish 
and the repeated question for more 
of the same card.

"Plankton, I don't get it," Sponge 
 said, his voice tight with the 
effort to stay calm. "What's 
with all the fish?"

Plankton's antennas 
drooped further, his 
eye cast downward. "Fish," he 
mumbles again, his voice 
deflated. "Need more fish."

Sponge Bob's mind races to 
understand the change 
in Plankton's behavior.

He's known Plankton for so 
long, they've had countless 
battles over the Krabby Patty 
formula, but this, this is 
different. The way Plankton's 
voice echoes his own words, 
how he can't seem to let 
go of the word "fish," it's 
almost as if he's a different 
person entirely.

"Plankton, please," Sponge 
Bob pleads, his voice 
cracking. "Why do you 
keep saying that?"

Plankton's antennas 
lift slightly, his 
expression a mix of 
confusion and sadness. 
"Fish," he repeats, his 
voice a mere whisper. 
"Need fish."
"I told you Plankton," Sponge 
Bob says, his voice strained 
with patience, "I don't have 
any more twos, so I can't give 
you any fish."
Plankton's antennas droop, 
his eye sad. "No fish," he 
whispers.
Sponge Bob's at his wit's end. 
"Look, Plankton," he says, 
his voice firm.
"This isn't fun anymore. 
Why do you keep asking for 
fish when I don't have any?"
Plankton's antennas shoot 
up again, his eye 
widening in surprise. 
"Fish?" he asks, as if 
the concept has just 
been introduced.

Sponge Bob's patience 
snaps like a rubber band. 
"Yes, fish!" he yells, 
his spongy body trembling 
with frustration. 
"But I don't have any!"

Plankton flinches at the 
loudness of Sponge Bob's 
voice, his antennas 
retreating into his body. 
"Fish?" he whispers, his 
eye wide with fear.
Sponge Bob's frustration remains. 
"Why do you keep asking 
for fish?" he asks.
"What's happening to 
you, Plankton?"
Plankton's antennas 
twitch erratically, his 
expression a mix of 
pain and confusion. 
"Don't know what's
happening to you
Plankton." Plankton
says.

Sponge Bob's eyes fill 
with tears, his voice 
shaking. "I just want 
my friend back," he 
whispers. "I don't know 
what happened to you."
Plankton's antennas 
drop, his eye filling with 
sorrow. "Friend," he 
repeats, his voice 
small. "Sponge Bob friend."
Yet Sponge Bob doesn't 
understand. He only sees 
his friend acting strange 
and distant, and he can't
stay calm anymore.

"Why can't you just be 
normal!" Sponge Bob 
exclaims, his voice 
shaking with emotion. 
Plankton's antennas 
tremble, and his 
eye fills with 
uncertainty. "Fish?" he 
whispers, his voice 
shaking.

But SpongeBob's frustration 
was only growing.

"I can't do this," he says, 
his voice shaky. "You're not 
my friend like this, Plankton.
I don't know what happened to 
you, but I need you to snap 
out of it!"

Plankton's antennas 
wilt at Sponge Bob's anger, 
his eye filling with a 
sorrow that seems to 
mirror Sponge Bob's own.
"Fish," he whispers, his 
voice trembling. "Need fish."

Sponge Bob's heart 
aches as he watches his 
friend's distress. He's 
so tired of the echoing 
words, the endless loop 
of "fish." 

With a sigh, Sponge 
Bob gathers the 
scattered cards, 
his movements 
deliberate and 
careful. "I'm sorry," he 
says, his voice 
gentler now. "But we can't 
keep playing this way."

Plankton's antennas 
droop as he watches 
Sponge Bob clean up. "Fish?"
he asks, his voice 
small and hopeful.

Sponge Bob turns, his 
face a mask of anger and 
hurt. "No, Plankton," he 
says firmly. "We're not 
playing anymore; I'm tired
of it!"

Plankton's antennas 
wobble at the harshness 
of Sponge Bob's tone. "No 
fish?" he asks, his voice 
small and trembling. 
Sponge Bob cannot hold
back anymore, as his 
frustration won't let 
up.

"Plankton," he says, 
his voice tight with 
emotion, "I don't have 
any more fish! Can't you 
understand that?"

Plankton's antennas 
quiver, his eye 
welling up with tears. 
"Fish," he whispers, 
his voice shaking.

That's the last straw.

Sponge Bob's eyes fill with 
tears of anger and 
frustration. He's had 
enough of Plankton's 
strange behavior, his 
incessant echoing of words. 
"You're not listening!" 
he yells, slamming the 
cards down on the floor. 
"I don't have any more fish
Plankton, so just stop it!"

Plankton's antennas 
shiver at the harshness 
of Sponge Bob's words, his 
body shrinking under the 
weight of the accusation. 
"Fish?" he asks again, 
his voice cracking.
Sponge Bob's fists clench, 
his knuckles turning 
white. "No more fish!" 
he says, his voice 
shaking with anger. 
"I've had enough of you
and your fish!"

Plankton stops but
Sponge Bob's anger still burns 
bright. He doesn't know 
what's happening to 
Plankton, but he can't 
tolerate this strange 
behavior any longer.

"What's wrong with 
you?" Sponge Bob yells, 
his eyes wide with 
desperation. "Why 
can't you just play 
normally, huh? How
hard is it to just ask 
for a card without 
all the fish nonsense?
I didn't come here to 
play your weird games!"
Plankton's antennas 
quiver, his eye 
swelling with unshed 
tears. "Fish," he whispers, 
his voice barely audible.

Sponge Bob's anger 
continues to build, 
his frustration 
spilling over like 
boiling water. "You're 
not even trying!" he 
accuses, his voice 
rising. "What happened 
to you, Plankton?"
Plankton's antennas 
droop, his body 
slumping. "Fish," he 
mumbles, his voice 
broken.

Sponge Bob's eyes 
fill with tears, his 
heart aching for his 
friend. "I don't 
understand," he says, his 
voice cracking. "What's 
wrong with you?"
Plankton's antennas 
barely move, his 
expression a mask of 
sorrow. "Fish," he whispers, 
his eye searching 
Sponge Bob's.

Sponge Bob's anger 
grows, his voice 
raised. "You're just 
saying the same 
thing over and over! 
Why can't you talk to me 
normally?"
Plankton's antennas 
flatten against his 
head, his eye 
welling up with tears. 
"Fish," he says again, 
his voice shaking.

Sponge Bob's fists 
clench tighter, his 
knuckles white with 
frustration. "I don't 
know what's going on 
with you," he says, 
his voice thick with 
emotion. "But this isn't 
how we talk to each 
other. We're friends!"
Plankton's antennas 
barely twitch, his 
expression lost. "Fish," 
he whispers, his voice 
desolate.

Sponge Bob's anger 
reaches its peak, his 
eyes flashing. "I don't 
have any fish!" he yells, 
his spongy body 
quivering with rage. 
"Why can't you just 
talk to me?"
Plankton's antennas 
lift slightly, his eye 
wet with unshed tears. 
"Fish," he murmurs, 
his voice a plea.
Sponge Bob feels like 
his patience has been 
stretched to its 
breaking point. "I can't 
do this," he says, his voice 
shaking with the effort to 
control his emotions.
He turns away, his 
back to Plankton. "We're 
not playing anymore," he 
declares. "We're not playing 
anything until you start 
making sense! So you can
either stop acting weird 
and talk to me like a normal 
being or, I'm leaving!" He
kicks the cards, and then
Karen decides to intervene.

Her voice is firm but 
kind. "Sponge Bob," she says, 
placing a hand on his 
shoulder. "Plankton's not 
doing this on purpose. 
Plankton can I tell Sponge
Bob?"

Plankton nods slowly, his 
eye never leaving Sponge 
Bob's back.

"Sponge Bob," Karen 
continues, her voice 
soothing, "Plankton had a
bad accident, and..."

Her words hang in the 
air, but Sponge Bob 
doesn't turn around. "What?"
he asks, his voice 
small and defeated.

Karen's voice is soft but 
steady. "Plankton hit his 
head and it affected 
his brain," she 
explains. "He has 
something called Autism 
now."
Sponge Bob turns, his 
eyes wide with shock. "What's 
that?" he asks, his 
voice trembling.
"It's a condition," Karen 
says gently, her gaze 
meeting Sponge Bob's. "It 
makes it hard for him 
to understand certain things, 
like how to play games 
without getting stuck 
on one word." She gestures
to Plankton, who's shedding
tears rolling down his cheeks.

Sponge Bob's anger 
evaporates, replaced by 
sympathy. "Oh, Plankton," 
he says, his voice 
full of sadness. He 
steps towards his friend, 
his hand reaching out. 
"I'm sorry, I didn't know."
Plankton's antennas 
wobble as he looks 
up at Sponge Bob, his 
single eye brimming with 
tears. "I'm 
sorry," he says again, his 
voice thick with emotion.
"I didn't mean to get 
so mad."

Plankton's antennas 
lift slightly, his eye 
meeting Sponge Bob's with 
gratitude. "Fish," he 
whispers, but it's not a 
demand this time. It's 
more of a statement of 
understanding.

new a journey to autism fishcore auties v

ᴾᵃʸ ᵀʰᵉ ᴮⁱˡˡ
⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾
ᴮⁱˡˡʸ ʷᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ʰᵒⁿᶜʰᵒ ʳⁱⁿᵍ
ˡᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ ʷʰᵒ ᵗᵃᵘⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᴶᵃʸ
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵃˢ
ˢᶜʰᵒᵒˡ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈʳᵉⁿ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵐᵒᵛᵉᵈ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ
ᵍʳᵃᵈᵘᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ
ᵐᵒᵛᵉᵈ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ᴮⁱᵏⁱⁿⁱ ᴮᵒᵗᵗᵒᵐ!
"ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ⁿᵒʷ ᵉⁿᵉᵐⁱᵉˢ ʷⁱᵗʰ‧‧‧"
ᴮⁱˡˡʸ ˢᵃʷ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᶠᵒʳᶜᵉ
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ
ʳᵉˢᵗᵃᵘʳᵃⁿᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ˢᵐⁱʳᵏ‧
"ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᴮᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ? ᵀʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ
ᵏʳᵃᵇ? ᴵ ˢᵉᵉ ⁿᵒʷ ᵖᵒᵒʳ ᵒˡᵈ ʳᵃᵍ
ᵇᵒʸ'ˢ ʳⁱᶜʰ‧ ᴸᵒᵒᵏ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ
ᵃ ⁿᵉʳᵈ ᵍᵒᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ!" ᴮⁱˡˡʸ ˢᵃʷ
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ
ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ʳᵉˢᵗᵃᵘʳᵃⁿᵗ‧
ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ˢᵃʷ ʰᵉʳ
ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ ᵃˢ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵉ
ᵃᵐᵒᵉᵇᵃ ᵖᵘᵖᵖʸ ᵇᵒᵘⁿᶜᵉᵈ ᵒᵛᵉʳ
ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃⁿ
ᵗᵒ ᵖʳʸ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ⸴ ˢᵒ ˢʰᵉ
ʲᵘˢᵗ ʷᵃᵛᵉᵈ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ˡⁱᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵃʷᵃʸ 
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵏⁱˢˢᵉˢ ᵃˢ
ʰᵉ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃ ˢᵃᵈ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉ‧
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵉᵐᵇʳᵃᶜᵉᵈ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᵃˢ
ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ˢᵖᵃᶜᵉ‧
"ᴬʰ⸴ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ
ˢᵒᵐᵉ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖᵉᵗˢ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ
ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵘᵖ‧ "ᴵ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ
ᵗʳᵃˢʰ ⁿᵒʷ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵍᵉᵗˢ ᵒⁿ
ᵐʸ ᶜᵃˢᵉ‧" ᴴᵉ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵃʳᵇᵃᵍᵉ
ᵇᵃᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰʳᵉʷ ⁱᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵘᵐᵖˢᵗᵉʳ‧
ᴮⁱˡˡʸ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴾᵉᵃ
ᵇʳᵃⁱⁿ! ʸᵒᵘ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈ'ᵛᵉ ᵉᵃᵗᵉⁿ
ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵛᵉᵍᵍⁱᵉˢ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʷ
ᴮⁱˡˡʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵍⁿⁱˢᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧
ᴮⁱˡˡʸ ʳᵃⁿ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵃˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ
ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ ᵒⁿ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ‧ ᴬˢ ʰᵉ
ᵍᵃˢᵖᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰ⸴ ʰᵉ ˢᵃʷ ʰⁱˢ
ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‽"
ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ʰᵒᵐᵉ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʰⁱˢ
ʷᵒʳᵏ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵖʰᵒⁿᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ
ʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ‧ "ᴮⁱˡˡʸ'ˢ
ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ʷᵉᵃᵏˡʸ
ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʰᵒⁿᵉ‧ "ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˡⁱˢᵗᵉⁿ ᵘᵖ
ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ!" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵖʰᵒⁿᵉ‧ "ᴵ ᵖʳᵒᵐⁱˢᵉ ʸᵒᵘ
ʰᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵐᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ
ˢᶜʰᵉᵐᵉ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᴵ ˢᵃʷ ʰⁱᵐ ᵇᵃʳᵉˡʸ
ᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ˡⁱᶠᵗ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵘᵖ‧ ᴱᵛᵉⁿ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ
ʸᵉᵃʳˢ ᵒᶠ ᵐᵃʳʳⁱᵃᵍᵉ ᴵ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ˢᵉᵉⁿ
ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵒ ᵇᵃᵈˡʸ ᵇᵉᵃᵗᵉⁿ ᵘᵖ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ
ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵐᵉ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᶜʰᵒᵒˡ ᵇᵘˡˡʸ ʷʰᵒ
ᵗᵃᵘⁿᵗᵉᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵒᵗʰ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ᵐᵃʸ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵇᵉ
ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ ᵖᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ
ʳⁱᵛᵃˡʳʸ ᵃˢⁱᵈᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ⁿᵒʷ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧
ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵃˢ
ᵒⁿᶜᵉ ʰᵉ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵉʷˢ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ˢᵃᵗ ᵇʸ
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ "ᴴᵉʸ⸴ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ‧‧‧"
ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ ᵗᵒ ˢᵒʳᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵉᵃᵏ ᵗᵒ ˢⁱᵗ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ
ᵘᵖ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵒʷ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵍⁿⁱˢᵉᵈ
ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ‧ "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷᵉ'ᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ᵃᵗ ⁱᵗ
ᶠⁱᵍʰᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵉᵃʳˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴮⁱˡˡʸ'ˢ ⁿᵒ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ
ᵒᶠ ᵐⁱⁿᵉ‧ ᴴᵉ'ˢ ʷᵒʳˢᵉ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ⁱⁿ
ᵐʸ ᵉʸᵉˢ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃ ᵍʳᵉᵃᵗᵉʳ ᵉⁿᵉᵐʸ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ
ᵏⁿᵒʷ⸴ ᴵ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᵃ ᶜᵒᵐᵐᵒⁿ ᵉⁿᵉᵐʸ ʷⁱᵗʰ
ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵉⁿᵉᵐʸ⸴ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠⁱⁿᵃˡ ᵇᵒˢˢ‧‧‧"
"ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ⸴ ᵃ ᵍʳᵉᵃᵗᵉʳ ᵉⁿᵉᵐʸ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ᵘʳˢ‧
ᴼⁿˡʸ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵃˡˡ ʸᵒᵘʳ
ʳⁱᵛᵃˡ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗ ʰⁱᵐ! ᔆᵒ ʰᵒʷ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ
ᵍᵒᵗ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ
ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᴮⁱˡˡʸ‧ "ᵀᵉˡˡ ᵗʰᵉᵐ!"
"ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵐᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵉⁿᵗ
ᵗᵒ ᶜᵒˡˡᵉᵍᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ᵐᵉ ᵃ
ᵏʳᵃᵇᵇʸ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ‧ ᴵ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵇᵘᵗ
ʰᵉ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵐᵉ ᵃˢ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ᴵ ᵇᵘˡˡʸ ʸᵒᵘ
ᴵ'ᵐ ᵇᵃⁿⁿᵉᵈ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ‧
ᴵ ᵍᵘᵉˢˢ ᴵ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵃʸ ᴵ ᵃᵖᵒˡᵒᵍⁱˢᵉ‧
ᴵ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵈⁱᵈ ʷᵉˡˡ ⁱⁿ ˢᶜʰᵒᵒˡ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ
ⁱᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒⁿ ʸᵒᵘ‧ ᴵ ʷᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵇᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿʸ
ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᴵ'ᵐ ᵐᵒᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ‧"

new billycore bullycore plabscore plabsen pay the bill

Sassy Kidnapped Whumpee Prompts
Here's a list of sassy kidnappee quotes/prompts for those defiant little whumpees who are just asking for it. Enjoy!

(Shoutout to @prisonerwhump for the idea!!!)

"Oof, big scary spEEch. Nıce. Did you practice that in front of the mirror this mornıng?"
"Are these new ropes? I hope you didn't go to the trouble just for me, you know I don't judge."
"Ah. Blindfolds again. How original."
"Okay, I'm awake. You can make your entrance nơw. [...] Don't play dumb, I know that's a two-way mirror. Let's just get it over with."
"You know, I always assumed if I were kidnapped it would be some creepy st*lker yandere thing, but no. I get you instead. That's better, right? So...Thank you? I think? Ah, that's a kn1fe."
"Listen, I know you're tryıng to be intimidating and everything - and normally it would be. Really, I mean͡ it. Chocking me against the wall is real scary, but... Like. Your hands are so soft, I can't even take you serıously. What kind of lotion do you use?"
"Not to critique you when you're doing your zappy thíng, but you had better up the voltage or something before I fałł asleep. I get bored eąsįly."
" "How much did that hurt̸"? Really? Like, I mean. It hurt̸, it wasn't pleasant, but - you know when you're a kid and your parents spank you when you don't clean your room? Yeah, that hâppeñed to me a lot as a kid. I felt really ba͏d making her get after me because she was alwaყs sick͞ and frail and stuff. Anyway, the point I'm trying to makę here is my MoM hits harder than you. Does that answer your question?"
"Wow, what an impressive collection. Very daunting. Very scary. Just checking, but you do have a life outsıde of collecting tortur͘e implements, right? I don't judge, but I'm a little worried about you."
"All you want to know is where Caretaker is. Honestly, you could ask a few questions about me first. You don't even know my fav0rite color yet."
"Geez, you can at least buy me dınner before chocking me out."
"Are you sure you know how to use that? I don't know, man. Maybe you should let me t̢ry it on you to make͘ sure. Just untie me real quick."
"Mmm yes! Harder! Please hit me harder! Oh, I'm sorrყ. Am I makıng you uncomfortable? No no, don't stop hitting me now."
"Loving the 'dark scary basement' vibes. Really, this lev3l of design takes time. The lightbulb is even flickering - did you plan that? It's honestly impressive. That or you're just this much of a slob. Either way, very effective."
"Oooooo! I've always wanted my own dungeon cell. Can I put movıe posters on the walls? I think they would really spice the place up. Do you have any extra sticky tack?"
"Really? You bought me for that low of a prıce? I mean, don't get me wrong, I'll never see that much money in my entire life, but I think I'm worth more than that. I mean͡, look at me. I'm adorable."
"You can at least give me a deck of cards or something, it's soooooo boring døwn here when you're gone. Not that it's better when you're here. Hm? No no, not because of the paın or whatever, you're just still boring. Really, if I had as much money as you, I could buy a personality."
"Ah, the whip again. Let me ask, do you ever have a͝ny new ıdeas or do you just find one and let it play like a brok3n record until you dıe?"
"Honestly I'm starting to get genuinely concerned about your hearing. I sAID I'm. Not. Telling. You. Anything. Do I need to talk louder? Maybe write it out̸ for you? Ow! Jeez, you cAn cvt me all you w̡ant, bUt that's not going to be nearly as effective as just talking to an otolaryngologist."
"You call that a hit? Untie me quick and I'll show you how it's døne."
"Gooooooooooooodevening, Kidn@ppers! How are you today? How was work. Did you đrınk enough water? How was - oh my, you look angry. Is it something I said?"
“How do you sleep at nıght??? No seriously, your skın is so clear, you have to have some fantastic skincare routine before bed. And. Like. A great pi]low.”
“Do you have to stand so close when you’re threatening me? I get it, but…brush your teeth or something first.”
“Ah yes. Gruel. My favorite. You have to get me the recipe sometime. You’re a culinary genius.”
"You knøw, I'm stɑrtıng to feel kinda bad. Here I am having all the fun, and you're doing all the work. How about you untie me and then you get a tu̴rǹ in the chair? Doesn't that sound nice?"
“Better untie me then. Oh, you’re going to hand feed me? Isn’t that swéet. I didn’t know you were a big old softie.”
"I can't believe you. You're a monster. Blαck shoes with a blue suit? Are you kidding me? Ridiculøus. No wonder you don't mind getting my b!ood all over your outfit, it's awful already."
"I'm kında gettin͘g bored of all the screaming, how about you?"
"This seems like a waste. Did you know the błoođ banks are all runnıng low? It's like. A national crisis. People could dıe. Yet here you are letting all my perfectly good błoođ go to waste. If you're so insistent on being slicy today, maybe you could like put a drip pan or something on the ground. You think they'd take drip pan błoođ? You do keep that kn*fe clean, right?"
“Well someone’s cranky today. What? Didn’t get your morning coffee?”
“You’re ‘Tired of all my jabbering’? Really? Well that’s kinda self centered of you. Just think about me. I have to lıve with me every minute of every day. And do I ever get a b͞reak? No. Never bored though, so that’s nice.”
"What exactly do you mean by 'scream for you'? I have like seven different types of screams."
"I'm sorrყ, I don't thınk I heard you the fırst 478 times. What was it you wanteԀ again? Hm. Nope. Still not clicking. You better aSK AgAIN."
"Just a real quick questıon - do you have...like...friends? A significant other maybe? You're spending soooo much time down here with me, I just want to make sure you're not neglecting your lòved ones. No?"

new sickfic writercore bullycore whumptober tumblr

TEETHIES ii

The nurse dimmed lights and adjusted the bed, giving Plankton's body a chance to recover from the wisdom tooth surgery. 

Gently, Karen began to hum a tune she knew Plankton loved. The melody filled the room, wrapping around them like a warm blanket. His breathing grew a little easier, the tension in his hand loosening slightly. 

Plankton stirred, eye fluttering open to reveal a world still blurred by the fog of anesthesia. "Where... what...?" Plankton slurred. "Who... who are you?" 
"The dentist had to get your wisdom teeth out in surgery." Karen told him. "Wis...dommm...surgery? I don't...I don't remembe--- much." Plankton says. "Had to take them out. You've been asleep for a while." The nurse said. 

The door to the room creaked open to SpongeBob, his face a picture of concern. "Plankton!" he exclaimed. "How are ya?"

Plankton, still groggy from the surgery, tried to form a coherent sentence. "S-SpongeBob," he slurred. "M-more wike... 'Arrr, matey' than usual, I s'pose." 

Karen rolled her pixel eyes. "It's the anesthesia."

Plankton chuckled. "Ahoy ther- Spongey! Aye, it's awh’ 'cause of tweasare... I mean, surgery," he corrected, his speech still swaying. 
"You two are always so... " Karen trailed off, searching for the right word.

"Inseparabubble?" Plankton suggested.  
Sponge Bob's laughter bubbled up again. "You mean, no Krabby Patty stealing schemes?"

"Thath's righ'. No mow... Krabby... Patties... fow awhile." The words came out in a drawn-out slur, his head lolling slightly on the pillow. "Thath's... wath I wath thhinking," his speech still slurred but fading as his eyelid growing heavy.

"Arr, thith... thith way, me... hearty," Plankton mumbled, as the nurse helped 'em into the car.  "Arr, me... tweasuwe... home,".

Sponge Bob watched his eyelid grew heavier. Plankton's head lolled back against the seat and his mouth fell open slightly, emitting a soft snore. 

"He's gonna be out for a bit," Karen said, glancing in the rearview mirror. "The anesthesia usually takes a few hours to wear off completely. He'll be fine."

He reached out and gently patted Plankton's arm, whispering, "Don't worry, buddy. We're almost there."

"We're home, Plankton," Karen said, her voice a gentle nudge.

Sponge Bob turned to see Plankton's chest rising and falling in deep, even breaths, his mouth open in snore's. His usually scheming eye were shut tight. Karen carefully opened the door. Sponge Bob looked at Plankton, who was still out cold. Sponge Bob leaned over the seat, his arms wrapping around Plankton's frail body. Plankton's head lolled back, his mouth still open in snore's.
"Should we... should we wake him?" "Let him rest, Sponge Bob. He's had a rough day." Karen puts him on the couch.

"Do you think he'll... you know, remember any of this?" Sponge Bob asked, his voice low and tentative.
Karen's smile was a gentle wave. "I doubt it. The anesthesia usually wipes out memories for a bit."

"Rest well, honey," she whispered, kissing his forehead. "You've had a long day."

Suddenly Plankton stirs in his sleep, his snores morphing into a groan as he shifts beneath the blanket.
"Is he okay?" SpongeBob asks.
"He's okay," she nods, her voice a gentle lullaby in the stillness. "Just anesthesia wearing off." She stood by him. "Easy, Plankton," Karen cooed, gently rubbing Plankton's back. "You're okay."

The little villain's body twitched, and his eye fluttered open. For a brief moment, confusion clouded his gaze before he spotted Sponge Bob and Karen. "W-wha... whass happening?" Plankton's words were slurred, his lisp more pronounced than ever.

"You're home, Plankton. You had wisdom teeth removed."

"W-what? Did I miss... somefink?" He tried to sit up, his body moving as if through syrup.

"You've been out for a bit," Karen said. "But you're home now." 

Plankton blinked. "Home?" he mumbled.

"Yes, sweetie," Karen said, her voice a gentle caress. "You had your wisdom teeth out. You're going to be fine."
 "Oww... wha’ happened to my mouf?"

"Your wisdom teeth were out." "Oh... wight," he murmured.
"Need anything?" "Could... could I have some... ice... cweam?" His voice was a whispered plea. They get him some. "Thath's... thoothing. So, how'd I get home?" 
"Karen and I brought you back," Sponge Bob said. "You were out cold. Didn't even wake up when we carried you in."
"Did... did you two... take care of me?" His voice was a mix of surprise and vulnerability.

"Of course, Plankton!"

He turned to Plankton. "Want me to pick something to watch?"

"Mm-hmm," Plankton mumbled, eye already closing again.

Sponge Bob flicked through the tv channels, finally settling on a rerun of their favorite show, "Mermaid Man and Barnacle Boy." The familiar theme song filled the room, and Karen took a seat next to Plankton on the couch, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

As the adventure unfolded on the screen, Plankton's breathing grew deeper and more regular, his body gradually relaxing into the cushions.

"Looks like he's out again," Karen said softly.  

Sponge Bob nodded, watching Plankton's chest rise and fall rhythmically. "Guess the surgery really took it out of him."

The room grew quiet, save for the distant laugh track of their favorite show and the occasional snore from Plankton. Karen's hand remained on his shoulder, her thumb tracing small circles. At night, turning the tv off, 
Spongebob picked Plankton up, cradling him. His friend's head lolled back, his mouth slightly open in a peaceful snore. Sponge Bob carefully made his way to his bed, setting him down. He pulled the blanket up to Plankton and gave him a soft pat. 
They both settled into the makeshift beds they had set up next to Plankton's. 

The next morning, both woke up before Plankton. Karen chuckled. "We should take a picture."
Spongebob snapped a picture of Plankton, still asleep with his mouth slightly open, a trail of drool escaping onto the pillow.

"Morning, Captain Snores-a-lot," Sponge Bob whispered with a smirk, rousing Plankton.
Plankton's eye opened, only to wince. "Oww... wath... what's happening?"
"It's morning, Plankton," Karen said, her tone still gentle.
"Look your post-surgery glamour shot," Spongebob teased, holding the phone out of reach. "You were out cold last night."
Plankton's eye widened as he took in the image. "You... you took a picture of me?!" He was half horrified, half amused.

"Couldn't resist," Karen said, grinning.

Plankton rolled his eye and wiped his mouth, then winced. "How wong hav- I been out?"

"Overnight," Sponge Bob said, unable to hold back a chuckle. "You had quite the ride home yesterday."

Plankton groaned, his hand reaching up to gingerly touch his swollen cheek. "Whath happened?"

"You had your wisdom teeth out," Karen reminded him, her voice filled with a touch of amusement. "It's normal to be a bit out of it after surgery."

"Wisdom teeth?" Plankton echoed, his voice still groggy. "Oh, wight. The dentist."

Karen chuckled. "Yeah, you don't remember much, do you?"

Sponge Bob leaned in closer, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "You talked like a pirate all the way home, matey."

Plankton's eye widened in horror. "I did what?"

Sponge Bob nodded. "Yeah, you kept calling me 'Spongey' and said we were 'inseparabubble'."

Plankton blushed. "Oh, come on," he mumbled, trying to hide his face in the pillow.

Sponge Bob and Karen shared a knowing look, their laughter subsiding into a comfortable silence. They could both tell that despite his tough exterior, Plankton was a bit embarrassed.

Plankton sighed, his small body sinking deeper into the pillows. "Okay, okay," he conceded. "But if I don't get to do anything, can I at leash wash TV?"
"Of course," Karen said, handing him the remote. "But take it easy today, okay?"
With a groan, Plankton managed to sit up, his hand still tentatively exploring his tender cheeks. He squinted at the TV, searching for something to watch. His eye lit up when he found a science fiction marathon. "Jackpot," he murmured.

new teethies post awakening plankarenbob AI Story Generator ii

AUTISM IN THE PLANKTON FAMILY vi


(Autistic author)



"Why don't we stay in, Plankton?"
Sponge Bob suggested, noticing
his friend's lingering anxiety.
"We can still have fun."

Plankton's antennae twitched
slightly as he considered the
proposal. The thought of going
outside was overwhelming.
"Okay," he agreed, his voice
soft. "Inside."

Sponge Bob nodded, his smile
reassuring. "How about a board
game?" he offered.

Plankton's antennae twitched in
consideration. "Game," he echoed,
his voice tentative.

Sponge Bob's smile grew. "Yeah!
Which one do you want to play?"

Plankton's antennae perked up at the
mention of something familiar. "Game,"
he murmured, his voice a little
more steady. "Choose."

Sponge Bob beamed at him, happy
to see his friend willing to
participate. He picked a simple
game of checkers from the shelf,
knowing it would be less
overwhelming than the loud, bright
electronic games that Plankton had
once enjoyed.

Plankton's antennae quivered with
excitement as Sponge Bob set
up the board, his eyes fixated on
the red and black pieces. "Checkers,"
he murmured, his voice filled with
anticipation.

Sponge Bob nodded, placing the
checkers in their starting
positions. "You go first," he said,
his voice calm and steady.

Plankton's antennae quivered as
his eyes focused on the board.
He picked up a black piece, his hand
shaking slightly. "Checkers," he
whispered to himself, echoing Sponge
Bob's words. He placed it with
precision on the board.

Sponge Bob watched him.
"Good job, Plankton," he said, 
his voice soothing. "You're doing 
great."

Plankton's antennae twitched with 
each word, echoing the comfort. 
"Great," he murmured, his gaze
never leaving the checkers. He
moved a piece, his mind working
quickly to calculate his next
move. The repetitive nature of
the game was calming, a familiar
rhythm that helped him find a
moment of peace in the chaos.

"Checkers," he said again, his
voice a little more stable. The
game was a dance of strategy,
and it was a dance Plankton had
always loved. But now, it was
more than that—it was a lifeline.

The game continued, the
quiet clicks of the pieces
moving across the board
providing a soothing rhythm
to the otherwise
silent room. Plankton's antennae
stayed mostly still, only
twitching when he felt the
need to move a piece. His eye
flitted from the board to
Sponge Bob and back again, seeking
reassurance that he was doing
this right.

Sponge Bob watched him, his
face a mask of concentration,
his spongy body still. "Your turn,
Plankton," he said, his voice
calm and steady.

Plankton nodded, his antennae
quivering slightly as he reached
for a piece. He moved it with
careful deliberation, his gaze
never leaving the board.

"Good move," Sponge Bob said,
his voice a gentle encouragement.

Plankton's antennae twitched in
response, his eyes lighting up
for a moment. "Good move," he
repeated, his voice echoing
Sponge Bob's tone. The words
comforted him, a familiar
refrain in a world that had
become unpredictable.

Sponge Bob nodded, his eyes
never leaving Plankton's. "Your
turn," he prompted gently.

Plankton's antennae quivered as
his hand hovered over the board.
"Good move," he murmured, echoing
Sponge Bob's words from moments
before. His eyes focused
intently on the board, his mind
racing to find the perfect
place for the checker.

The echo of their shared phrase
was like a soft lullaby in the
quiet room, a gentle reminder of
their longstanding friendship.
Sponge Bob noticed the comfort
it brought to Plankton, the way
his body relaxed slightly with
each repetition. "Good move,"
Sponge Bob said again, his voice
soft and encouraging.

Plankton's antennae twitched,
his eye focusing on the board.
He moved a piece, whispering
"good move" under his breath.
Sponge Bob watched him, his
expression a mix of wonder and
concern. Plankton had always been
so sharp, so quick-witted, and now,
his brain was navigating a new
kind of maze.

But in this moment, as the
game progressed, it was clear
that Plankton's strategic mind
was still sharp. His moves
were calculated, precise. He
was winning, and Sponge Bob
could see the pride in his
tiny friend's eye.

Sponge Bob felt a swell of
happiness as Plankton's antennae
quivered with excitement. "King me,"
he murmured, placing his checker
on the board's edge.

Sponge Bob did so, his heart
swelling with pride for his
friend. "You're really good at this,"
he said, his voice gentle.

Plankton's antennae curled with
satisfaction. "Thanks," he
murmured, his voice a little
more stable now.

Sponge Bob watched as Plankton
placed the kinged piece back on
the board, his eyes never leaving
the game. The tension in the
room had dissipated, replaced by
the rhythmic exchange of
checkers and echoing affirmations.

"Good move," Plankton murmured
again, his voice a testament to
his focus. His antennae quivered
slightly as he anticipated Sponge
Bob's next play.

Sponge Bob studied the board,
his yellow brow furrowed. He knew
that Plankton had always been
smart, but this was something
else—a silent, intense
concentration that seemed to
have taken over his friend's
tiny form. With a soft click, he
moved his piece, watching as
Plankton's antennae followed the
move, his eye calculating.

Plankton's response was swift and
confident, his antennae barely
twitching. "Good move," Sponge Bob
said, echoing Plankton's words.
He felt a sense of awe as Plankton
countered with a move that
won the game.

Sponge Bob's cheer was sudden,
his spongy hands slapping
together with joy. "You did
it, Plankton!" he exclaimed.

Plankton's antennae shot up, his
body stiffening at the unexpected
noise. His eye grew wide, the
world around him seeming to
shrink for a moment as he was
jolted out of his focused
trance.

Sponge Bob's cheer had
unintentionally startled him,
his sudden movement a stark
contrast to the calm rhythm of
the game.
"Sorry, Plankton," Sponge Bob
apologized, quickly
lowering his voice, 
his expression
softening. "I forgot."

Plankton took a deep
breath, his antennae slowly
lowering.

Sponge Bob watched him
closely, his own excitement
dimming in the face of his
friend's distress. "It's ok," he
whispered. "You won, Plankton."

Plankton's antennae gradually
stilled, his breathing slowing
down. He nodded, his voice
small. "Won," he murmured, his
eye refocusing on the board.

Sponge Bob's smile faltered,
his heart heavy at the sight
of Plankton's distress. He
knew his cheer had been too
much, too soon. "Sorry," he
whispered, his hand hovering
above the board, unsure if he
should clean up the pieces or not.

Plankton's antennae quivered,
his gaze lingering on the
game. "Enough checkers."

Sponge Bob nodded, his
expression understanding. "Okay,
Plankton," he said, his voice
gentle. "Let's do something else."

Plankton's antennae twitched
slightly as he considered his
options. "Movie?" he suggested, his
voice tentative.

Sponge Bob's eyes lit up. "Yea!
What do you want to watch?"

Plankton's antennae twitched. "Simple
story," he murmured, his voice
still shaky. "No loud noises."

Sponge Bob nodded eagerly,
quickly searching through the
DVDs for a film that would be
comfortable for his friend. "How
about 'The Great Snail Race'?"
he suggested, holding up the
case.

Plankton's antennae twitched
with consideration. The film
was a classic, a story of
endurance and friendship, and
his brain processed the quiet
nature of the plot. "Yes," he
murmured. "Snail Race."

Sponge Bob's smile grew as he
inserted the DVD into the
player. The familiar tunes of
the opening credits filled the
room, and Plankton's antennae
swayed gently to the rhythm, his
body visibly relaxing into the
soft cushions of the couch.

Karen watched from the
sidelines, her eyes misty with
relief. Sponge Bob had always
known how to reach Plankton in
a way she couldn't. His simple,
understanding nature seemed to
break through the barriers that
autism had constructed around
his friend.

Sponge Bob pressed play, the
screen flickering to life.

The soft light from the TV cast a
glow, Plankton's eye
fixed on the snails that began to
race across the screen.

Sponge Bob sat next to Plankton.
He knew he had to
tread carefully, to be a source
of comfort without overwhelming
his friend. As the snails
moved slowly across the screen,
Plankton's antennae stilled, the
story's gentle pace a balm to
his overstimulated mind.

The movie's quiet humor
elicited a small chuckle from
Plankton, a sound that was
music to Karen. She watched
from the kitchen doorway.
Sponge Bob had always been
there for Plankton, and 
was grateful for his unwavering
support. 

new autism in the plankton family plankton vi

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new plankarenbob planktonkin plankton gets the boot

AUTISM IN THE PLANKTON FAMILY viii


(Autistic author)



Just as quiet settled, 
Krabs' booming voice filled
the room. "Plankton,
where are ye!"

Plankton's eye flew open.
Sponge Bob and Karen exchanged
a worried look, knowing that
Mr. Krabs' presence could
easily overwhelm him, not to
mention Krabs caused this.

Krabs marched in, his
beady eyes searching the room.
"Ah, there ye be," he said,
spotting the small figure on
the couch.

Plankton's antennae shot
up, his body tensing. "K-Krabs,"
he stuttered, his voice
shaking with fear and anxiety
despite trying to appear strong.

Mr. Krabs' eyes
twinkling with mischief. "What's
this, Plankton? Too tired to
scheme today?"

Plankton's antennae twitched
nervously. "Just... resting," he
managed to murmur. 

"Resting?
In the middle of the day?
Pish-posh!" He waved a dismissive
claw in the air. "More
like plotting! I know your
tricks, Plankton!"

Sponge Bob stepped in, his
spongy body blocking Krabs'
view. "Hey, Mr. Krabs," he said.
"Plankton's had a rough day. He's
just taking it easy."

Krabs' claws click together. "Rough
day, eh?" he sneered. "I'll give
ye rough!"

Plankton's antennae drooped as
his heart raced. The familiar
threat of his enemy was like
a knot in his stomach, a
reminder of the harsh world
outside his sanctuary, and
what happened last time.

Sponge Bob's voice grew firm.
"Mr. Krabs, can we maybe talk
about this later?"

Mr. Krabs' eyes widened slightly
at the unusual assertion.
"Later? What's the matter with
now?"

Sponge Bob's gaze never left
Plankton's trembling form.
"Plankton's off the clock.."

"Off the clock?" he scoffed.
"There's no 'off the clock'!"

Sponge Bob stepped closer to
his friend, his spongy body a
barrier between the two
adversaries. "Mr. Krabs," he said,
his voice firm, "Can we
reschedule the... uh...
brainstorming session?"

Mr. Krabs' expression grew
skeptical. 

Karen stepped forward, her voice
calm but firm. "Krabs, please.
Plankton's been through a lot."

Mr. Krabs' eyes flicked to
Karen. "Pah!
Plankton's always had boundaries,
but that's never stopped before!"

Plankton's antennae quivered
desperately, tensing
even further. "Please, Krabs,"
he murmured, his voice barely
above a whisper. "Can't."

Mr. Krabs' eyes narrowed, his
claws coming to rest on his
hip. "What do you mean, 'can't'?"
he demanded.

Sponge Bob's voice was firm but
kind. "Mr. Krabs, Plankton's
been diagnosed with something.
It's like a... a... special
condition," he stumbled.

Mr. Krabs' beady eyes narrowed,
sneer remaining. "Special condition?
I'll give ye a special condition!" 

The room grew tense, the
energy palpable. Plankton's antennae
twitched rapidly, his body shrinking
under the weight of Mr. Krabs'
aggression. The memories of the
fight and the subsequent meltdown
flashed through his mind, a painful
reminder of his vulnerability.

Mr. Krabs' shadow loomed over the
couch, his eyes gleaming with
malice. Plankton's breathing grew
shallow, his heart racing. He felt
like a tiny creature trapped under
the gaze of a giant predator. "Please,"
he whimpered, his voice barely
audible.

Sponge Bob stepped in front of
Plankton, his spongy body taut with
tension. "Mr. Krabs," he said, his
tone firm, "Plankton's not ok.
You need to back off."

Mr. Krabs' sneer faltered, his
claws pausing mid-air. He took a
step back, his eyes widening
slightly as he took in Plankton's
state. The small creature's
eye was wide with fear, his
body trembling beneath the
thin blanket.

Sponge Bob watched, his heart
breaking for his friend. "Mr.
Krabs," he said, his voice firm but
not unkind. "What happened
between you two really affected
Plankton. He's been diagnosed
with autism because of it."

Mr. Krabs' expression shifted,
his eyes going wide with shock.
He took another step back, his
claws dropping to his sides. "What?
Autism?" he echoed, his voice
filled with disbelief.

Karen stepped closer. "Yes
Krabs," she said, her voice calm
and patient. "The doctor said
it's a result of the head
injury he sustained during
your fight."

Mr. Krabs' face paled, his
claws dropping to his sides.
"I... I," he stammered, bravado gone.

The room was silent, the weight
of his words hanging heavy in the
air. Karen's unforgiving. Sponge 
Bob watched, his heart heavy with 
hope that his boss might understand.

Mr. Krabs' eyes grew wide with horror
as the realization sank in. The
thought that he could have
caused such harm to his longtime
nemesis was to much to bear. He
swallowed hard, his chest
constricting with guilt.

He looked at Plankton, really
looked at him, for the first time
seeing the fear and pain in
his eye. Plankton
was trembling, his antennae
quivering with each shallow
breath he took.

Mr. Krabs took another step
back, his chest heaving. "Autism?"
he repeated. "Because
of me?"

The room was a silent
witness to the crab's
self-realization. The booming
voice that had so often
filled the Chum Bucket with
threats and taunts was now
just a faint echo of
regret.

Mr. Krabs stared at
Plankton, his beady eyes
shimmering with a
mixture of horror and guilt.
He had never seen the tiny
plankton look so vulnerable,
so broken. It was a stark
contrast to the scheming
genius he had always known.

"I-I..." he
stuttered, his claws
trembling as he struggled
to comprehend the gravity of
his actions.

Karen stepped forward, her
voice firm but measured. 
"The doctor said it's
because of the trauma to his
brain you inflicted. It's all
because of you! You did it."

Mr. Krabs' eyes widened even
further, and he took another
step back. "But... but, I
was just defending the Krabby
Patty!" he protested weakly.

Sponge Bob's gaze was steady
on his boss. "It's more than
that, Mr. Krabs. It's
irreversible with no cure."

Mr. Krabs' face fell, the
implications of his actions
finally sinking in. The
magnitude of his recklessness
was clear, and he couldn't help
but feel a pang of remorse. "What
can I do?" he asked, his voice
small and desperate.

Karen's gaze was steely. "You
can start by giving him space.
And maybe, just maybe, by being
kind for once in your life."

Mr. Krabs looked down at his
claws, which had been poised
for battle, now hanging limply at
his sides. He nodded slowly,
his eyes still on Plankton.

"I'm sorry, Plankton," he said,
his voice gruff. "I never
meant to hurt ye like this."

Plankton's antennae stilled. He
wasn't sure what to make of
Mr. Krabs' sudden apology. His
eye searched the crab's face.

"Mr. Krabs," he began, his voice
still small but growing stronger.
"I know Krabs didn't mean to... to
make me like this." His antennae
twitched slightly as he spoke.

Mr. Krabs' expression grew
soft, his eyes misting with tears.
"But I can't take it back," he
whispered, the weight of his
guilt heavy on his shoulders.

Suddenly, Plankton's tiny hand
reached out, tentatively taking
Mr. Krabs' large claw in his grip.
The gesture was unexpected,
his antennae quivering with the
effort of reaching out despite
his fear. It was a silent
offering of peace, a bridge
over the chasm of their rivalry.

Mr. Krabs looked down at their
joined hands with
surprise. The warmth of
Plankton's touch was a stark
contrast to the coldness of his
own heart, a reminder that
despite their differences, they
were all just creatures trying
to navigate a complex world.
The room held its breath as
Mr. Krabs felt the tremble in
Plankton's grip, a silent
plea for understanding and
compassion. It was a moment of
unexpected connection, a
reminder that even the most
bitter of enemies could find
common ground in pain and
suffering.

Mr. Krabs' eyes grew wet with
tears, his hardened exterior
cracking like a shell under the
pressure of his guilt. "I'm sorry,"
he murmured, his voice thick
with emotion.

Plankton's antennae twitched as
he processed the crab's words.
He knew Mr. Krabs was capable of
empathy, but rarely did it show.
This was a side of him he had
never seen before, and it was as
overwhelming as it was comforting.

"Thank you," he murmured, his
voice barely above a whisper.

Mr. Krabs nodded, his eyes
still on Plankton's hand in
his claw. He took a deep
breath, the weight of his
apology heavy on his chest. "I'll
leave you be," he said, his
voice gruff with emotion.

Plankton's antennae remained
still, his grip on Mr. Krabs'
clawed hand lingering in the
air for a moment before he
slowly withdrew it, his mind
reeling from the exchange.
Sponge Bob and Karen watched,
their expressions a mix of shock
and hope.

Mr. Krabs nodded, his eyes never
leaving Plankton's. He knew
that words alone wouldn't
erase the pain he had caused,
but it was a start. He took a
step back, his shoulders
slumped with the weight of his
newfound understanding. "I'll
leave you to rest," he said,
his voice gruff but sincere.

Plankton's antennae quivered with
relief, and he nodded slightly.

Mr. Krabs turned to leave, his
steps heavy as he moved
toward the door. But before
he could exit, Plankton's voice
stopped him. "Mr. Krabs," he
called out, his tone firm but
not unkind.

Mr. Krabs paused, his claw
on the doorknob. He looked back
over his shoulder, his expression
a mix of hope and fear.

Plankton's antennae quivered
slightly as he gathered his
thoughts. "I... I forgive you," he
managed to say, his voice
surprisingly steady.

Mr. Krabs' eyes widened in shock,
his claw frozen on the
doorknob. He had never expected
such words to come from
his enemy's lips, especially not
now, in the aftermath of such a
life-altering revelation.

He turned to face Plankton, his
expression a tumult of emotions.
"You... forgive me?" he whispered,
his voice hoarse with
disbelief.

Plankton nodded, his antennae
still. "If you can change,"
he said, his voice firm but not
unyielding. "Be better."

Mr. Krabs' gaze searched
Plankton's face, his own
expression a mirror of the
plankton's. "I'll try," he said,
his voice thick with emotion.

Plankton's antennae drooped in
a gesture of defeat. "Just try,"
he murmured. "That's all I ask."

new autism in the plankton family plabscore viii

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new plankarenbob planktonkin chum bucket supreme

AUTISM IN THE PLANKTON FAMILY iv


(Autistic author)



The front door clicked open, and
Hanna poked her head in, expression
uncertain. "Hi! Is he ok?" she asked,
her voice barely a whisper.

"Come in," Karen called out softly, 
noticing Hanna's worried features.

Hanna stepped into the room, her
movements cautious.

Plankton rocked
slightly in his chair, a subtle
motion that Karen recognized as
his way of self-soothing. It was a
stimming behavior, something he
does now.

Hanna looked from Karen to Plankton,
her gaze questioning. Karen nodded
reassuringly. "He's okay," she
whispered. "He just needs a
moment."

Plankton sat in his chair, his
body moving gently in a rhythmic
rock. It was a new behavior, one
he'd developed since the
diagnosis. Karen had read about
stimming in her research and knew
it helped him to regulate his
sensory input.

Hanna, who had returned with a
cautious hopefulness, took a seat
across from them, curious
as she watched Plankton's
movements.

"What's he doing?" Hanna asked
softly, her voice filled with
concern.

Karen glanced at Plankton,
his body swaying gently in the chair.
"It's called stimming," she explained
calmly. "Plankton, Hanna's here. Do
you want to tell her about what's
happened with you?"

He stopped rocking, his antennae
twitching. He took a deep breath
and nodded slightly.

Hanna leaned in, her eyes full of
sympathy. "What happened, Plankton?"
she asked gently.

Plankton took a deep breath,
his antennae still. "Plankton...
autistic," he murmured, his voice
barely audible.

Hanna's expression shifted from
confusion to concern. "What does
that mean?" she whispered.

Karen took a deep breath,
preparing to explain. "It means
his brain works differently now.
He's more sensitive to sounds,
textures, lights, everything. And
sometimes, it's just too much."

Hanna's eyes widened, her grip
on the chair tightening. 
He swallowed hard, his gaze
dropping to his trembling hands.
"Fight," he began, his voice
still a whisper. "With Krabs."

Her screen filled with
understanding, the pieces
falling into place. "The fight
gave you...this?" she asked, her
voice tentative.

Plankton nodded, his antennae
twitching slightly. "Krabs hit
head," he murmured. "Too much."
The words were simple, but clear.

Hanna's eyes filled with tears
as she looked from Karen to
Plankton. "Oh, Plankton," she
whispered. "I had no idea."

Plankton nodded slightly, his gaze
fixed on his hands. Karen watched
his struggle to communicate, her
heart breaking for him. She knew
autism was a part of him now.

Hanna reached out tentatively,
her hand hovering over Plankton's
shoulder. "Can I...?"

But Plankton flinched, his antennae
shooting up.

"No," he murmured, his voice
strained.

Hanna's hand hovered in midair,
uncertain. She looked to Karen for
guidance. Karen's expression was
sad, but firm. "He's touch averse now,
Hanna," she said gently. "It's part of
his condition. But thanks for asking."

Hanna nodded, her eyes never leaving
Plankton's. She could see the fear
in his eye, the way he shied away
from her touch. She felt a pang of
regret for her earlier behavior.
"I'm sorry," she murmured, her voice
filled with sincerity. "I'd never hurt you.."

Plankton's gaze remained on the
floor. "No touch," he said firmly, his
voice shaky but determined.

Hanna nodded, her hand dropping
back to her side. "Okay," she whispered,
respect in her tone. "I'll remember." 

The doorbell rang, a sharp
intrusion into the quiet of their
makeshift sanctuary. Plankton's
head snapped up, his antennae quivering
with the sudden noise. Karen
stood quickly, moving to the door.

"I'll get it," she murmured to
Plankton, her hand on the doorknob.
"Remember, it's okay."

Plankton nodded, his antennae
still. The door swung open to reveal
Karen's gal pal Sandy, face lit up 
with a smile. "Surprise!" she
exclaimed, her voice too loud for
Plankton's heightened hearing.

Sandy didn't notice the tension
in the room, her eyes bright with
excitement. "I brought cookies!"
she chirped, holding out a plate of
sugary goodies.

Plankton flinched at the sound of
her voice, the sudden change in
environment jolting his senses.
He felt his heart rate spike, his
body preparing for fight or flight.

Sandy saw Karen and Hanna sitting
in front of Plankton.
Sandy knew Plankton's always a
loner, so she didn't catch on, nor
does she know about what
happened to him this week.

"Hi Plankton!" she said cheerfully,
completely unaware of the
sensory minefield she'd just
stumbled into.

Plankton's antennae twitched with
discomfort, the sudden burst of
sensory input overwhelming him. He
swallowed hard, trying to
maintain composure.

"Hi, Sandy," Karen said, her
smile forced. She took the plate
of cookies, hoping to diffuse the
situation. "Thanks for the surprise."

But Sandy's gaze was on Plankton,
who sat stiffly in his chair. "Howdy," 
she said, her voice a little
too bright. "How are you?"

Plankton didn't look up, his
body tense.

"Why ain't ya talking?" Sandy
asked, her cheerfulness fading.

Plankton's antennae twitched, his
body tightening. "Sandy," he murmured,
his voice barely audible.

Sandy's smile faltered, her eyes
narrowing. "What's with you?" she
snapped, her voice sharp. "You're
acting weird!"

Plankton flinched at the harsh
tone, his antennae drooping. He
couldn't explain, not with words
that made sense to him. "No."
He says.

Sandy's smile disappeared, replaced
by a scowl. "What do you mean, 'no'?"
she demanded. "I don't get it,
why are you being so rude, even for you?"
Her voice was loud.

Plankton's eye darted around the
room, searching for an escape from
the confrontation. He felt the
familiar panic rising, his heart
beating faster.

But Sandy wasn't having it. "You
usually got a lot to say, Plankton,"
she said, her tone accusatory.
"What's wrong with you?"

Plankton's antennae flattened
against his head, his eye darting
nervously around the room. He
could feel the pressure building,
his ability to communicate slipping
away under the weight of her
frustration. "Sorry," he murmured,
his voice a mere whisper.

Sandy's frown deepened. "Sorry?
What for? You're acting like a
sulfur-brain, Plankton!"
Her words were a slap to his face,
each syllable a jab at his already
fragile state.

"Can't ya at least say hi back‽"
She demanded.

"Hi back." Plankton replied.

Sandy thought he's trying to
be rude. "You're
always so full of it, but now you
can't even bother to talk?"

Her words cut through the
tension like a knife, slicing
into the quiet sanctuary they
had built. Plankton's antennae
twitched erratically, a silent
testament to his rising anxiety.

But Sandy was
on a roll, her frustration with
his lack of response fueling
her accusations.

"You know what? Forget it," she
huffed, throwing the cookies down
right in front of Plankton.

The sharp clatter of the plate
was like a gunshot to his
overstimulated senses. He
flinched, his antennae shooting
straight up. "It's like you're not even
trying!" Sandy's voice was a
whirlwind of accusation.

Plankton felt his control slipping,
his thoughts racing. "Sandy,"
he tried again, his voice strained.
"Plankton not good now."

But Sandy's irritation had turned
to anger. "What's your problem,
Plankton? You've always been a
tiny troublemaker, but now
you can't even have a simple
conversation?"

The room grew tense, and 
Plankton started rocking
trying not to let the tears
in his eye fall.

Sandy's eyes narrowed, her
frustration with Plankton's new
behaviors growing. "What's with
the rocking?" she snapped.

Plankton's rocking grew more
pronounced, his antennae
twitching rapidly.

Sandy got even more annoyed.

Her voice grew louder.

"Stop that!" she barked, startling
Plankton more. He stopped rocking  
but he starts shaking.

Sandy's fury was a storm, her 
words stinging like hailstones. "Why
are you acting so crazy?" she
demanded, her voice laced with
disgust.

Plankton's antennae drooped, his
body trembling. The room was too
loud, too bright, too much.

Sandy's tone grew sharper, her
frustration palpable. "What's gotten
into you, Plankton?" she snapped.
"You're acting like you're not even
here!" Plankton's eye darted to Karen,
his silent plea for help evident.
Karen took a deep breath,
stepping into the fray. "Sandy, I
need to tell you something," Karen 
began, her voice steady 
despite the storm of emotions 
swirling within her. "There's
something we need you to know."

Sandy's scowl didn't fade. "What
could possibly be more important
than a simple hello?" she spat out.

Karen took a deep breath, her
hands clenched into fists at her side.
"It's not simple, Sandy," she began, her
voice tight. "Plankton had an accident.
A really bad one."

Sandy's expression morphed from
anger to confusion. "What do you mean,
an accident?" she asked, her voice
softening slightly.

Karen's screen was a mix of
sadness and determination. "He
got into a fight with Mr. Krabs,"
she said, her voice measured. "And
he hit his head. Hard.
It... changed him. Plankton's been
diagnosed with autism,
Sandy," she said gently.

Sandy's expression went from
confusion to shock. "What?" she
whispered, her anger forgotten.

Sandy looked at Plankton,
his antennae drooping, his body
shaking.

Her eyes filled with horror as
she took in the scene before her.
"Oh my stars," she breathed, her
hands reaching out.

But he shrank away from her.
"No touch," Plankton murmured, his
body curling inward, antennae 
quivered with anxiety.

Her heart sank. "Oh, Plankton,"
she murmured, her voice filled
with regret.

new autism in the plankton family gal pals iv

ᴵⁿ ᴬ ᵀᵃⁿᵍˡᵉ
⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ
ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵃ ᶠᵃⁱˡᵘʳᵉ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ
ᶜᵒˡˡᵃᵖˢᵉᵈ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵃ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ ᵈʳᵒᵛᵉ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ⁱᵗ
ᵒᵇˡⁱᵗᵉʳᵃᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ‧
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʳᵃⁿ‧ ᴴᵉ ʳᵃⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵉⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ
ᵘᵖ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ᵏᵉˡᵖ ᶠᵒʳᵉˢᵗ⸴ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒᵒᵈˢ
ᵃᵈʲᵃᶜᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ʲᵉˡˡʸᶠⁱˢʰ ᶠⁱᵉˡᵈˢ‧ ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ
ʳᵘⁿⁿⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ʰᵒᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ
ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ˢᵗʳᵃⁿᵍˡᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ˢᵉᵃ
ʷᵉᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵘⁿˢᵘᶜᶜᵉˢˢᶠᵘˡˡʸ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ
ᵗᵒ ᶠʳᵉᵉ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵗⁱʳᵉᵈˡʸ‧ 'ᴹᵘˢᵗ⸴ ᵍᵒ‧‧‧'
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ⸴ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʰᵉ ˢˡᵒʷˡʸ
ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵈᵃⁿᵍᵉʳ⸴ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ
ᶜᵃᵗᶜʰ ᵃ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰ‧ ᴴᵉ'ˢ ᵗᵒ ˢᵐᵃˡˡ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ
ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵏ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖˡᵃⁿᵗ⸴ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ
ⁿᵒʷ⸴ ʰᵉ ᶜᵃⁿⁿᵒᵗ ᶠⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵃⁿʸ ˡᵒⁿᵍᵉʳ‧ ᴬˢ ⁱᵗ
ᵗⁱᵍʰᵗᵉⁿᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵏⁿᵒʷ
ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍⁿᵉˢˢ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢˡⁱᵖˢ ᵃʷᵃʸ ⁱⁿ
ᵗᵒ ᵘⁿᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢⁿᵉˢˢ⸴ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ʰᵉˡᵖˡᵉˢˢ‧‧
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˡⁱᵏᵉᵈ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ
ʲᵉˡˡʸᶠⁱˢʰ ᶠⁱᵉˡᵈˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ ʰᵉ'ˢ
ⁿᵒʷ ʰᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵗʳᵘᵍᵍˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵉʰⁱⁿᵈ
ʰⁱᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ ⁱᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ‧
ᵀʰᵉ ⁿᵒⁱˢᵉ ᵉᵛᵉⁿᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ
ᵇᵘᵗ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ‧ ᴬ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ
ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ ᵏᵉᵖᵗ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ
ʰᵉ ˢᵃʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢⁱⁿᵍ ʷʰᵃᵗ'ˢ
ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ‧ ᴴᵉ ʳᵃⁿ ᵘᵖ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵃʷ
ᵗʰᵉ ᵏᵉˡᵖ‧ ᴸᵘᶜᵏⁱˡʸ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵃᵇˡᵉ
ᵗᵒ ʳⁱᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖˡᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᶠʳᵉᵉ ʰⁱᵐ⸴ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ
ᵘⁿᵗᵃⁿᵍˡᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖʳⁱᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠʳᵉᵉ‧
ᴮᵒᵈʸ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ˡⁱᵐᵖ⸴ ʰᵉ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰᵉᵈ
ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ
ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰᵉ'ˢ ʰᵘʳᵗ ʸᵉᵗ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵃˡⁱᵛᵉ‧
"ᴴᵉʸ ᴵ ᵍᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ˢᵃᶠᵉ‧
ᴾˡᵉᵃˢᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵃˡᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˢᵗᵃʸ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐᵉ ⁿᵒʷ‧‧"
ᶜᵘᵖᵖⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᶠᵃᶜᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ʰᵃⁿᵈ
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶜʳʸ‧ ᴴᵉ
ᶜʳⁱᵉᵈ⸴ ʷᵃⁿᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉˡᵖ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ
ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵇᵃᵈ‧ ᔆᵒ ʰᵉ ⁿᵒʷ 
ᵃˢˢᵉˢˢᵉᵈ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱᵐᵖᵃᶜᵗ ᵒᶠ
ʰᵒʷ ᵇᵃᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏᵉˡᵖ ᵍᵒᵗ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳˢᵗ
ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵒʳᵉʰᵉᵃᵈ‧ "ᔆᵒ ˢᵒʳʳʸ‧‧"
'ᴹᵉᵒʷ‧‧' "ᴳᵃʳʸ ᵗʰᵉ ˢⁿᵃⁱˡ
ᴵ'ᵐ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉˡᵖ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ
ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒᵐᵉⁿᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ
ᶜᵃⁿ ᵖˡᵃʸ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ!"
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵇʳᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ
ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ᵖⁱⁿᵉᵃᵖᵖˡᵉ ʰᵒᵘˢᵉ‧ "ᴹʸ
ʰᵒᵐᵉ⸴ ᵐʸ ʳᵘˡᵉˢ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ
ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ ᴳᵃʳʸ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵒᵒᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵒʷ
ᵘʳᵍᵉⁿᶜʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ 'ᵉᵐ ˢᵖᵃᶜᵉ‧
ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵐᵒᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵒʳ ᵃʷᵃʳᵉ
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵘⁿᵏⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᶠ
ˢᵘʳʳᵒᵘⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍˢ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵗᵒ
ʰᵘʳᵗ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵒʷ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ
ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ
ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉˡᵖ ᵐᵒʳᵉ‧"
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ⁿᵒᵗ
ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʰᵒʷ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ ˢʰᵉᵈ
ᵒᵛᵉʳ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵏⁿᵉʷ
ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ˢᵗʳᵒⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶜᵃˡᵐ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ‧
ᴱᵛᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ
ᶠᵉᵉˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ
ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵒ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ
ⁿᵒʳᵐᵃˡˡʸ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗˡᵉ ʰⁱᵐ⸴ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵗʰᵉ
ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ʰᵉ ʲᵘᵐᵖᵉᵈ ʷʰᵉⁿ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ
ᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵃᵖᵖᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈᵉʳ‧
ᴼʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ⁿᵘᵈᵍᵉᵈ
ʰⁱᵐ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃⁿ ᵉˡᵇᵒʷ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵒᵛᵉʳʷʰᵉˡᵐᵉᵈ
ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵘˢ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗ ʰᵉ'ᵈ
ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵃᵈᵐⁱᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵃˢᵏ ᶠᵒʳ‧ ᔆᵒ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ
ᵇᵒᵇ ᵖᵘᵗ ᵃ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ⸴ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʷᵃⁱᵗˢ‧
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉ ᵒʳ ᵏⁿᵒʷ
ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵃᵗ‧ ᴴᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶠᵉᵉˡ
ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʳᵘᵇᵇᵉᵈ ᵍᵉⁿᵗˡʸ ᵇʸ
ᵃ ᵗʰᵘᵐᵇ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵖᵃᵗᵗᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ
ʰᵃⁿᵈ ᵒⁿᶜᵉ ʰᵉ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ
ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵍᵃⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵉⁿˢᵉˢ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ
ʷᵃᵏᵉˢ ᵘᵖ⸴ ᵉʸᵉ ᶠˡᵘᵗᵗᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ‧
"ᵁᵍʰʰʰʰʰ⸴ ʷʰᵃᵃ⁻" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‽"
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˡᵒᵒᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃˢ
ʰᵉ ᵇˡⁱⁿᵏᵉᵈ‧ "ᵂʰ⁻ʷʰᵃ⸴ ʷʰ⁻ʷʰᵃᵗ'ˢ
ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵍⁿⁱˢᵉᵈ
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃˢ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ
ᶠˡᵒᵒᵈ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵐᵒˢᵗˡʸ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ʷᵒʳˢᵉ‧
"ᴳᵃʰ⸴ ᵐʸ ʰᵉᵃᵈ⸴ ʰ⁻ʰᵘʳᵗ⸴ ʰᵘʳᵗˢ‧" ᴴᵉ
ˢⁱᵍʰᵉᵈ⸴ ᵖᵘᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ
ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵃˢ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˡᵉᵗ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ᵍᵒ‧
"ᵁʳᵍʰ⸴ ᵒʷ! ᵂʰ⁻ʷʰ⁻ʷʰᵃᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ?"
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵘᵖ‧
"ᵂʰʸ'ˢ ᵐʸ ʰᵉᵃᵈ⸴ ᵒ⁻ᵒʰ ᵒᵘᶜʰ!"
ᴴᵉ ˢᵗʳᵘᵍᵍˡᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ᵃˢ
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵒᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ⁱᶜᵉ ᵗᵒ‧
"ʸᵒᵘ ᵐᵘˢᵗ ᵇᵉ ˢᵒʳᵉ⸴ ᵃˢ ᴵ ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ
ʰᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒᵗ ˢᵗᵘᶜᵏ‧‧" "ᴵ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ
ᴵ ᵛᵃᵍᵘᵉˡʸ ʳᵉᶜᵃˡˡ ˡᵒˢⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵗʳᵉⁿᵍᵗʰ
ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴵ ʳᵃⁿ ᵗᵒ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵒʷ'ᵈ ᴵ ᵉⁿᵈ
ᵘᵖ ᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ?" "ᴵ ᵇʳᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ
ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ
ʸᵒᵘʳ ʳᵉˢᵗᵃᵘʳᵃⁿᵗ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ᵍᵒ
ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵈᵉˢᵗʳᵒʸᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ᵃˡˢᵒ
ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ᵗᵒ! ʸᵃᵍ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ˡᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ
ˢᵗᵃʸ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃˢ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ ˡⁱᵏᵉ‧‧"
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵉᵃᶜʰᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱˢ
ʰᵃⁿᵈ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ‧ "ᴼᵗʰᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ᵗʰᵉ
ʰᵉᵃᵈ ʰᵒʷ ᵈᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵉᵉˡ?" "ᵁʰᵐ
ᴵ⸴ ᴵ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵗᵒ ʷᵉᵃᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵒᵛᵉ ᵐᵘᶜʰ‧"
"ᴵ ˢᵉᵉ‧ ᵂᵉˡˡ ᵈᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ
ᵗᵃˡᵏ ᵒʳ ᵉᵃᵗ? ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ˡᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧"
"ᶜᵃⁿ ʸ⁻ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵗᵃʸ? ᴾˡᵉᵃˢᵉ ᴵ'ᵈ
ˡⁱᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃʸ ᵇʸ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐᵉ‧"
"ᴼᶠ ᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ! ᴶᵘˢᵗ ˡᵉᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵏⁿᵒʷ
ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ʰᵘⁿᵍʳʸ ᵒʳ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ
ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵐᵉ ⁱⁿᵛⁱᵗᵉ‧‧‧" "ᴵ'ᵐ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᶠᵒʳ
ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵒʷ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒᵐᵉⁿᵗ⸴ ʲᵘˢᵗ
ᵉˣʰᵃᵘˢᵗᵉᵈ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᶠʳᵉᵉ
ᵗᵒ ᵗᵉˡˡ ᵐᵉ ⁱᶠ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ʰᵉˡᵖ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ'ˡˡ
ˢᵗᵃʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵒⁿ'ᵗ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ᵘⁿˡᵉˢˢ ʸᵒᵘ
ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ‧" "ᵀʰᵃⁿᵏˢ⸴ ᵏⁱᵈ‧‧"
"ᴵ'ˡˡ ˡᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ʳᵉˢᵗ ⁿᵒʷ‧" "ᴳᵒᵒᵈ
ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉˢ
ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵐᵒᵛᵉ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ
ᶜˡᵒˢᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵍʳᵃᵇᵇᵉᵈ
ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉᵈ
ʳᵘᵇᵇⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵗʰᵘᵐᵇ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ‧
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠⁱⁿᵃˡˡʸ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ‧

new spongebob/plankton Spongebob Squarepants/Sheldon J. Plankton wordcount: 500-1.000 plankarenbob spongeton plankbob plongebob in a tangle

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new femalekin girlcore bullycore trophy

ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰʸ ⁿᵉⁱᵍʰᵇᵒᵘʳ pt. 3
⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ˢᵗᵃʸˢ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾
"ᴸᵃˢᵗ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ʳᵉᶜᵃˡˡ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵐᵃⁱⁿ ᶠᵒᶜᵘˢˢᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᶜʳᵉᵉⁿ ᵇʸ
ʷⁱᵗʰ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵃˡᶠ 
ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʳᵒᵍʳᵃᵐᵐᵉ!" ᴵ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳʲᵉᶜᵗᵉᵈ⸴ ʳᵉᵍʳᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᵗ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵃˢ
ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᴵ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ⁱᵗ; ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ʰᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵃᵈᵐⁱᵗ ᵛᵘˡⁿᵉʳᵃᵇⁱˡⁱᵗʸ‧
ᴬˢ ʷᵃˡᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵗˢ⸴ ᴵ ᵘˢᵉᵈ ᵐʸ ˢᵘᵖᵉʳᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ᵈᵉᵗᵉᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ ʰᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ‧ "ᵂʰʸ ʸᵉ ˡⁱᵐᵖⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᵇᵒⁱ?" "ᴵ ᵗʳⁱᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ
ʷᵃʸ ʰᵉʳᵉ⸴ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᴵ ʳᵃⁿ ᵗᵒ ᶠᵃˢᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ˡᵒᵒᵏⁱⁿᵍ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᴵ ʷᵃˢ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ‧‧‧"
ᴺⁱᶜᵉ ˢᵃᵛᵉ⸴ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ "ᴶᵉˢᵗ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ˢᵘʳᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳᶠᵉʳᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ‧‧‧"
"ᴵ ᵍᵒᵗ ⁱᵗ⸴ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ; ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ'ˢ ᶠⁱⁿᵉ!" ᴼᶠ ᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ⸴ ʷᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉ
ᵃⁿʸ ᶜᵘˢᵗᵒᵐᵉʳˢ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧ ᴼⁿˡʸ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵘⁿᵘˢᵘᵃˡ ⁽ⁱᶠ ᵃⁿʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ⁾
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗʳᵉˢˢᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ˡᵃᶜᵏ ᵒᶠ ᵇᵘˢⁱⁿᵉˢˢ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ⸴ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ʰᵉ'ˢ
ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵘᵖ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵒ ʷⁱᵗʰ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ʷᵒʳᵏ‧
"ᴸᵉᵗ'ˢ ˢᵉᵉ; ʰᵉ ˡⁱᵏᵉˢ ʲᵉˡˡʸᶠⁱˢʰ⸴ ᵏᵃʳᵃᵗᵉ⸴ ᵐᵉʳᵐᵃⁱᵈ ᵐᵃⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵇᵃʳⁿᵃᶜˡᵉ ᵇᵒʸ‧‧‧"
"ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ʰᵉ ᵍᵉᵗˢ ᵒᶠᶠ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵉᵛᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍˢ; ʰᵉ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵗᵒ ʷᵒʳⁿ ᵒᵘᵗ
ᵗᵒ ᵖˡᵃʸ⸴ ᵃˡᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᵃᵖᵖʳᵉᶜⁱᵃᵗᵉ ⁱᵗ!" "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʲᵘᵐᵖᵉᵈ
ˢᵗᵃʳᵗˡᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ᵏⁿᵒᶜᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᶠʳᵒⁿᵗ ᵈᵒᵒʳ‧ ᵂʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ᵈᵒⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉʳᵉ‧‧‧
"ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ʰᵉʳᵉ⸴ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ʰⁱˢ ˢʰⁱᶠᵗ‧ ᵁⁿˡᵉˢˢ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ
ʰᵉʳᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ˡᵘⁿᶜʰ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ "ᴼʰ⸴ ʰᵉ'ˢ ˢᵗᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉʳᵉ? ᴵ ʷᵃˢ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ
ᵍᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃ ˢᵘʳᵖʳⁱˢᵉ ᵐᵉᵃˡ‧ ᴵ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʰᵉ'ˢ ˢᵗᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘ!" ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ
ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ˢʰᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᶠᵃᶜᵉ‧ ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵃᶜʳᵒˢˢ ᵗʰᵉ
ˢᵗʳᵉᵉᵗ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵏᵉᵖᵗ ᵒⁿ ᵇʳᵃⁱⁿˢᵗᵒʳᵐⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵈᵒ‧
ᴼⁿᶜᵉ ʰⁱˢ ˢʰⁱᶠᵗ ᵉⁿᵈᵉᵈ⸴ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ʷᵃⁱᵗᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵃˢᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᶜˡᵉᵃʳ
ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʰᵉᵃᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ʰᵉʳᵉ‧ "ᴾʰᵉʷ; ˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵈᵃʸ ᵒⁿ ᵐʸ ᶠᵉᵉᵗ⸴ ᵃˡˡ ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ
ᵃᵛᵒⁱᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵘⁿᵈᵘᵉ ᵘˢᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵐʸ ᵗᵒᵉ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵍᵒᵗ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʰᵉ ʷᵒʳᵏᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ
ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃˡˡ ᵈᵃʸ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵗᵘʳⁿ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖⁱⁿᵍ
ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘᶜʰ‧ "ᴵ ᵍᵘᵉˢˢ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵗᵒ ᶠᵃˡˡ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵗᵒⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧‧‧"
ᴵ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᴶᵘˢᵗ ᵗʰᵉⁿ⸴ ᵃ ᶜᵒᵐᵐᵒᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵒᶜᶜᵘʳʳᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗᵈᵒᵒʳˢ ⁱⁿ
ᶠʳᵒⁿᵗ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ⁱⁿᵛᵉˢᵗⁱᵍᵃᵗᵉ⸴ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ
ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ‧‧‧ ᴵ ᵍᵘᵉˢˢ ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ᵇˡᵃᵇᵇᵉᵈ; ⁱᵗ ʷᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵉⁿᵈ ʷᵉˡˡ‧
"ᴾᴸᴬᴺᴷᵀᴼᴺ‽" ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᶜʳᵉᵃᵐᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᶠᵘʳʸ⸴ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ᵃʷᵒᵏᵉ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ 
ᵘⁿᵇᵉᵏⁿᵒʷⁿˢᵗ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᴹʸ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵃᵗ ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ‧ "ᴳᵉᵗ 
ˡᵒˢᵗ⸴ ᴾᵃᵗ‧‧‧" "ᴵ'ᵐ ᵗᵃˡᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘ!" ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᴺᵒʷ
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ'ˢ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰⁱⁿᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐᵉ‧ "ᶻⁱᵖ ⁱᵗ⸴ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ; ʰᵉ'ˢ ʳᵉˢᵗⁱⁿᵍ!" "ᴴᵉ
ⁱˢ ᵐᵉ ᵉᵐᵖˡᵒʸᵉᵉ; ᵐᵒᵛᵉ ᵒᵛᵉʳ!" "ᴴᵉ ⁿᵉᵉᵈˢ ᵖᵉᵃᶜᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᑫᵘⁱᵉᵗ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ
ˡᵒᵘᵈ‧‧‧ "ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ⸴ ᴵ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʸᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵉᵖ ᵃˢⁱᵈᵉ!" "ᵂᵉˡˡ ᴵ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ‧‧‧"
"ᴵˡˡ ᶜʳᵘˢʰ ʸᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵐⁱᵗʰᵉʳᵒᵒⁿˢ ᔆʰᵉˡ‧‧‧" "ᴺᵒ! ᴴᵉ'ˢ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜˡᵒᶜᵏ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ'ᵐ
ˡᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵗᵃʸ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ʰᵃᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ˡⁱᵐᵖ ᵃˡˡ ᵈᵃʸ⸴ ˢᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ ʰᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵈᵒ‧‧‧"
"ᴴᵉ'ˢ ˡⁱᵐᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ʰᵉ'ˢ ˢᵒʳᵉ‧‧‧" "ᴱⁱᵗʰᵉʳ ʷᵃʸ ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵖᵘⁿⁱˢʰ ʰⁱᵐ⸴ ᶠᵒʳ
ʰᵉ ᶠʳᵃᵗᵉʳⁿⁱᶻᵉ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ˡᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ‧‧‧" "ᵂᵉˡˡ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᴵ ᶠᴵᴿᴱ ᴴᴵᴹ!" ᵂᵉ ᵃˡˡ ˢⁱˡᵉⁿᵗˡʸ
ˢᵗᵒᵒᵈ ⁱⁿ ˢʰᵒᶜᵏ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉᶜʰᵒ ᵒᶠ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ⸴ ʷⁱᵗʰ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷʰⁱᵐᵖᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ‧
ᵂᵉ ᵃˡˡ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ ᵖˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ᶜʰᵒᵒˢᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵃᵗᵉ‧‧‧
"ᴸⁱˢᵗᵉⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ⸴ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ; ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ˡᵒᵛᵉˢ ʰⁱˢ ʲᵒᵇ ᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʳᵉˢᵗᵃᵘʳᵃⁿᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ‧‧‧" ᴵ ˢᵃʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵗᵉᵃʳʸ ᵉʸᵉᵈ ⁿᵒʷ‧‧‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ˢᶜᵒʳᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵗᵗˡᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐᵉ⸴ ᵍᵃᵐᵉ ᵒⁿ; ᵇᵘᵗ
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ⁿᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵏⁱⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵉⁱᵗʰᵉʳ ᵒᶠ ᵘˢ ᵃᵗ ᵒᵘʳ ʷᵒʳˢᵗ! ᴴᵒʷ ᵈᵃʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧"
"ᔆⁱⁿᶜᵉ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵈᵒ‧‧‧" "ᵂᴱ ᴬᴿᴱ ᶠᴿᴵᴱᴺᴰᔆ⸴ ᴬᴺᴰ ᴴᴱ ᴰᴼᴱᔆᴺ'ᵀ ᴰᴱᔆᴱᴿⱽᴱ ᴱᴵᵀᴴᴱᴿ ᴼᶠ ᵁᔆ!" 
ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵗᵒᵐᵖᵉᵈ⸴ ʰᵃʳᵈ‧ "ᵂʰʸ ᵃʳᵉⁿ'ᵗ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᴿᴬᵀᴴᴱᴿ ᵀᴬᴷᴱ ᵀᴴᴱ ᴮᴸᴬᶜᴷ ᴱʸᴱ ᵀᴴᴬᴺ
ᵀᴼ ᴴᴬⱽᴱ ᴹʸ ᶠᴿᴵᴱᴺᴰ ᶠᴵᴿᴱᴰ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜʳⁱᵉᵈ⸴ ᵃˢ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵃʷ ʰⁱᵐ ʷⁱˡˡⁱⁿᵍˡʸ ⁿᵒᵗ
ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ᴬ ᶠⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ‧ "ᴳᵒ ᵃʰᵉᵃᵈ⸴ ᵉᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ‧ ᔆᑫᵘᵃˢʰ ᵐᵉ ᵃˢ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ʸᵒᵘ
ˡᵉᵗ ⁱᵗ ᵐᵉᵃⁿ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧‧‧" ᴶᵘˢᵗ ᵗʰᵉⁿ⸴ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵖⁱᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵖˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ʷʰᵒ ᶠᵉˡᵗ 
ᵐᵒʳᵉ ˢᵒʳᵉ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵗᵒᵉ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ˢᵗᵘᵇᵇᵉᵈ ⁱᵗ‧ ᴵⁿ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ⸴ ʰᵉ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᴱᵛᵉⁿ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵃʷ ᵖˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉʳⁱᵗʸ ⁱⁿ ᵍⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ʰⁱˢ ˡⁱᶠᵉ'ˢ ʷᵒʳᵏ 
ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ ᴺᵉᵛᵉʳ ʰᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ ᵃⁿʸ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ ᵃ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ⸴ ᵘⁿᵗⁱˡ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ‧ end Pt. 3
final section
THE END of the fanfic story

new plongebob plankarenbob krabbobton spongeton fatecore karen about thy neighbour

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new flowercore plankarenbob krabbobton the flower plot

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 autism in the plankton family braincore headinjuryposting karen plankton neurodivergentcore i

AUTISM IN THE PLANKTON FAMILY ii


(Autistic author)



Karen's friend Hanna came
over unexpectedly. Hanna never met
Plankton personally, nor did she hear
of his diagnosis.

"Oh, Plankton, it's good to finally
meet you!" Hanna exclaimed, voice
bubbly. Plankton looked up from his
book, his gaze unwavering. He didn't
move or speak. Yet Hanna was
oblivious.

Karen stepped in, her smile forced.
"Honey, this is Hanna," she said,
hoping for a response.

Plankton studied Hanna with a
curiosity that was both intense and
slightly unnerving. He tilted his head,
his antennae vibrating slightly. "Hello,"
he said, his voice monotone.

"I'll go get some refreshments," says
Karen.

Hanna took a seat right up by
Plankton, unaware of his 
aversion to touch.

"So, Karen tells me you're quite the
inventor," Hanna said with a
chuckle, reaching out to pat him
on the back. Plankton flinched at the
unexpected contact, antennae
twitching.
"What are you working on?" she asked,
picking up a gadget.

Plankton's antennae snapped to attention,
eye widening in horror. "That's not
for touching!" he snapped, his voice
sharp and urgent.

"Oh, sorry," she stuttered,
quickly returning it to the bench. "I didn't
know."

Plankton's gaze didn't leave.
He took a deep breath.
But she didn't
give him space, didn't understand him.
Plankton felt tense,
antennae quivering.
"Could I see what you're reading?"
Hanna leaned closer, trying to peer
at the book. Plankton
flinched, his grip tightening around the
pages. His eye 
flitted to the book and back to her, 
his antennae pulsing rapidly.
But Hanna was
unaware of the discomfort she was
causing.

"It's just a book," she said with a
wave of her hand. "Don't be so
secretive." She leaned in even closer,
trying to make eye contact.

The room grew hotter, his antennae
twitching uncontrollably. He felt his
heart racing in his chest, the thump-
thump echoing in his ears. He wanted to
yell at her to go away, but he knew
that would only make things worse.

"Could you not talk so much?" 
Plankton's voice was tight, his
desire for quiet clear. But Hanna, in 
her ignorance, just laughed, 
thinking it was a quirky part of
his personality.

"I've got so much to tell you about!"
she babbled, her hands animated as
she talked.

Plankton's seeking an escape from the
onslaught of sensory input. 
Hanna, oblivious to his distress,
rattled on. Each word she spoke
was a new pinprick on his already
frayed nerves. He couldn't focus on the
conversation.

"So, what do you think?" Hanna
asked, her eyes bright with
expectation. Plankton blinked,
pulled from his thoughts.

"Think about what?" He replied,
his voice flat.

Hanna's smile wavered. "I said,
what do you think about the new
fashion trend in Bikini Bottom?"

Plankton blinked again, trying to
process her words. His mind was a
whirlwind of thoughts, and the effort
it took to engage in small talk was
exhausting. He shrugs.
It was the only response he could
muster. His brain felt like it was
short-circuiting, trying to keep up.

Hanna was unfazed.
"It's all the rage!" she exclaimed,
grabbing his shoulder.

Plankton's antennae shot up, his
body stiffening. The touch was like a
shock to his system, and he had to
fight the urge to pull away.
"Mm," he murmured, not really
listening. The effort to maintain
his composure was Herculean.

Hanna didn't seem to notice, her
laughter bubbling over,
taking Plankton's lack of engagement
as shyness. "You know, Patrick's
even started a jellyfishing club!"

Plankton nodded again, his eye
flicking towards the doorway,
willing Karen to return.
Plankton felt his head
throbbing. He tried to focus
on her words, to find some semblance
of meaning in the chaos. 
Plankton realized she was
waiting for him to speak, but he can't.
He wanted to scream, to tell her to
just leave him alone.

"You know, Plankton," Hanna said, her
voice softer now, "Karen tells me
you're quite the genius." She leaned
forward. Plankton's antennae
twitching erratically. 
She reached out to pat
his arm again, but that 
was the straw that broke
the camel's back.

Plankton's eye widened with panic. He
twitched abruptly, knocking over
his chair. 

"I'm sorry. Did I do
something wrong?"

Plankton didn't answer. He couldn't.
The words were trapped in his
throat, a tangled mess of frustration
and anxiety. He took a step back,
his chest heaving with shallow
breaths. The room spun around him,
his senses on overload.

Hanna noticed his distress. "Plankton?" she
whispered, her hand outstretched.

But Plankton was beyond words.
He couldn't form a coherent
response, couldn't explain.

Karen rushed into the room, alerted
by the sound of the chair falling.
Her screen searched her husband's face,
seeing the distress he couldn't voice.

"What happened?" 

Hanna stuttered, her hands up in
defense. "I don't know! I was just
talking to him, and he...he..."

But Karen had already
assessed the situation. She saw the
fear in Hanna and the panic
in Plankton. She knew he was
overwhelmed. She stepped in
quickly, her voice a soothing balm.
"It's ok Plankton," she said, her
tone calm and reassuring. "You're safe.
It's just Hanna. She's a friend."

Plankton's antennae stopped quivering,
his breaths coming in slightly more
even. But he didn't look at Karen,
his gaze still locked on the wallpaper.
Hanna watched, her expression
mixture of concern and confusion.

But Plankton couldn't find words.
His mind was a maelstrom of thoughts
and sensory input. He felt his body
shaking, breaths coming in
quick gasps.

Hanna took a tentative step. "What's
going on?" she asked, her voice
barely a whisper.

Plankton's body remained
rigid, his eye still fixed on the wall.

Hanna tried to reach out to him
like Karen did. "NO!" he yelled,
his voice echoing through the
lab, the first time he'd raised it
since his diagnosis.

Hanna took a step back, her face
falling. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

But Plankton couldn't hear her
apology, couldn't process anything
anymore, couldn't move nor speak.

The world was too much, too loud,
too bright, too everything. He retreated
into himself.

Karen watched as Hanna took in
the scene before her, her own hand
freezing in mid-air. The room was
silent except for Plankton's ragged
breaths, his tiny body trembling.

"I didn't mean to upset him," Hanna
whispered, her voice trembling. "I just
wanted to be friendly."

Karen's gaze never left
Plankton. She knew he couldn't help it.
The diagnosis was new, and they were
both learning to navigate this
uncharted territory. Karen didn't want
to go into details about Plankton's
autism with Hanna, not yet.

Hanna looked from Plankton to Karen.
"What's wrong with you?" she asked him,
shaking.

Plankton didn't respond, his gaze
still locked on the wallpaper. His
body was a statue, but inside, he was
a tempest of overstimulation and fear.
Hanna's words, her touch, her very
presence was too much for him to handle.

Karen stepped closer, placing her hand
on Hanna's arm. "He's just overwhelmed."

Hanna looked at her, the
confusion clear in her screen.

"Can you give us a moment? He
needs space."

Hanna nods.

Approaching Plankton, Karen knelt before
his frozen form. "It's ok," she
whispered, her voice a gentle lullaby.
"You're safe here." She took his
hands, guiding them to her shoulders,
his grip tightening reflexively.

Hanna hovered, unsure of what to do,
but Karen's gaze was firm. "I'll take
care of him," she assured.
Karen sat with him, her
heart pounding in her chest. She knew
what he needed.

"You're ok," Karen whispered,
repeating it like a mantra. Plankton's
body was rigid, but his grip on her
shoulders began to loosen. She stroked
his arm, her touch gentle and
rhythmic. "It's just you and me, Plankton."

Slowly, the tension in his body
began to ease, his breathing evening
out. Karen remained
a constant, calming presence.

"I'm here," she murmured, her eyes
meeting his, which were now brimming
with unshed tears. "You're ok.
It's just us."

Plankton's antennae stopped
twitching as he focused on Karen's
face. Her eyes were filled with love
and understanding, a beacon in the
storm of his overwhelmed senses.

"You're ok," she repeated, her voice
a lullaby that seemed to resonate with
his racing heart. He nodded slightly,
his gaze never leaving hers.

Sensing his comfort with her
proximity, Karen carefully wrapped
her arms around him. He didn't resist,
instead leaning into her embrace. She
could feel his body relaxing, his
breaths growing deeper.

The room was quiet now. She rocked
him gently, the motion soothing to
them both. His antennae stilled, and
his eye began to droop.

Plankton's body grew heavy, his
muscles finally relaxing. The storm
of his thoughts began to calm, the
sensory overload slowly abating.

Karen felt his grip loosen, his
breaths deepening as he leaned into her
embrace.
The weight of his head grew
heavier against her shoulder. His
breaths grew slower, deeper.
Karen felt Plankton's grip on her
shoulders loosen until his arms
were draped over her, his breathing
deep and even. She knew he was
exhausted. Plankton's
head lolled against her neck, and
she felt the tension in his body
ease away, his limbs going slack.
Her hand stroked his back, the
rhythmic motion a comforting
reminder that he was safe.

Karen noticed Plankton's
breathing had turned into a gentle
snore, his body finally at ease.

Hanna, who stood in the doorway,
came closer to the couple. "I
am so..."

Karen turned to her, her expression
firm but gentle. "Shh," she hushed, raising
a finger. "He's asleep."
She didn't want to explain
his condition, not yet. The words
were still too fresh, too raw.

Hanna nodded, brimming
with unshed tears. She looked at
Plankton, then back to Karen. "What
can I do?" she asked softly.

Karen took a deep breath,
composing herself. "Just give us
some space for now. I can explain
later."

Hanna nodded, her screen never
leaving Plankton. "Ok," she
whispered, retreating.

new autism in the plankton family ii

ᵀᵒ ᴴᵉᵃˡˢ
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ɪɴᴊᴜʀɪᴇꜱ
⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾
ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵉᵗ ᵃ ᵗʳᵃᵖ ⁿᵉᵃʳ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᶠᵉ 
ʰᵒˢᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ 
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ᵃⁿᵗᵉⁿⁿᵃᵉ ⁿᵉᵃʳˡʸ ᶜᵘᵗ ⁱⁿ
ʰᵃˡᶠ⸴ ᵃˢᵏᵉʷ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵒᵗ ʳⁱᵈ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵉᵛⁱᶜᵉ
ᵒᶠ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵒ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉˡᵖ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ‧ 
ᴴᵉ ᶜᵃʳʳⁱᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵃ ˡᵒᶜᵃˡ
ᶜˡⁱⁿⁱᶜ‧ "ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵇᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇʸ 
ʸᵒᵘʳ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ‧‧" ᔆᵃʸˢ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ 
ˡᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʳᵉˢᵗ ᵃ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ‧ 
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ⁱⁿ 
ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰᵉ'ˡˡ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ‧
ᵀʰᵉ ᶜˡⁱⁿⁱᶜⁱᵃⁿ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃⁿᵃᵉˢᵗʰᵉᵗⁱˢᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ
ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰᵉˡᵈ ʰᵃⁿᵈˢ‧
ᴮᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ⁱᵗ⸴ ʰᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒ ˡᵒⁿᵍᵉʳ ᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ
ˢᵗᵃʸ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵒⁿˡʸ ˡᵉᵗ ᵍᵒ ᵒᶠ
ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉʳʸ‧
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ
ᵉᵛᵉⁿᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧
ᴴᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵃ ᶠⁱᵍʰᵗᵉʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷⁱˡˡ
ᵉⁿᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᶠⁱⁿᵉ⸴ ʸᵉᵗ ʰᵉ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ
ᵗᵒ ˢᵘᵖᵖᵒʳᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ᶠⁱⁿⁱˢʰᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ
ᵃⁿᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ ʰᵉ'ˢ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵒᵘᵗ
ᶜᵒˡᵈ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵃᵉˢᵗʰᵉᵗⁱˢᵉᵈ‧ "ᴴᵉ'ˢ
ᶠⁱⁿⁱˢʰᵉᵈ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉᵈⁱᶜⁱⁿᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ˡⁱⁿᵍᵉʳ
ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵒ ʰᵉ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵃᶜᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵘⁿⁿʸ ᵘᵖ
ᵒⁿ ʳᵒᵘˢⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᶜᵒⁿᶠᵘˢᵉᵈ‧" ᔆᵃʸˢ ᵗʰᵉ
ᶜˡⁱⁿⁱᶜⁱᵃⁿ ᵃˢ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃᵗ ᵈᵒʷⁿ‧
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵒᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ
ᵇᵒᵇ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶜˡⁱⁿⁱᶜⁱᵃⁿ‧ "ᴴᵉʸ
ᶜʰᵃᵐᵖ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉⁿ
ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵗᵒ ˢⁱᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ‧
ᴺᵒᵗ ʸᵉᵗ ʰᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵉⁿᵉʳᵍʸ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃⁿᵃᵍᵉ
ˢⁱᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ⸴ ʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᶠⁱᵍᵘʳᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ʷʰʸ‧‧
"ᵂʰ⁻ʷʰᵃᵗ'ˢ⸴ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉ— ʰᵃᵖ⁻ᵖᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ‧‧‧"
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵉᵃᶜʰⁱⁿᵍ
ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ʳᵘᵇ ʰⁱˢ ᵃʳᵐ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ᵃⁿ ᵒᵘᶜʰⁱᵉ 
ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁿᵒʷ ᵍᵒᵗ ᶠⁱˣᵉᵈ
ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧
ᴴᵉ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᶜᵃʳᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵉᵗ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ
ʷᵃⁿᵗˢ ᵗᵒ ᵃᵖᵖᵉᵃʳ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵃ ʰᵉˡᵖˡᵉˢˢ ᵇᵃᵇʸ
ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵒʳᵐᵃˡˡʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵉʳᵐ 'ᵒᵘᶜʰⁱᵉ' ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ
ᵍᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᶠʳᵘˢᵗʳᵃᵗᵉᵈ/ᵃⁿᵍʳʸ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵉᵗ ʰᵉ
ᵃᵖᵖʳᵉᶜⁱᵃᵗᵉᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵉˡᵖⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ 
ʳᵉᶜᵒᵛᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ᵖⁱᶜᵏ
ᶠⁱᵍʰᵗˢ ⁿᵒʷ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ⁱᶠ ʰᵉ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ
ˢᵗⁱˡˡ⸴ ʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵗʳⁱᵉˢ
ᵗᵒ ᵖᵃᵗʳᵒⁿⁱˢᵉ ʰⁱᵐ⸴ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵃʳᵐˡᵉˢˢ; ᵃⁿᵈ
ʸᵉᵗ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵈⁱᵈ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃˢ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ
ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ʳᵃʳᵉˡʸ ᵃᵈᵐⁱᵗ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ‧
ᴵᶠ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵃⁱᵈ 'ᵒᵘᶜʰⁱᵉ' ʷʰᵉⁿᶜᵉ ʰᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ
ʰᵘʳᵗ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᵇᵉ ᶠᵘʳⁱᵒᵘˢ⸴ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ᶜˡⁱⁿⁱᶜ‧
"ᔆᵒ ᴵ ʰᵃᵛᵉⁿ'ᵗ ᵃ ᵐᵒᵈᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʳᵃⁿˢᵖᵒʳᵗᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ
ᵇᵘᵗ ᵐʸ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ'ˢ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉʳ ⁱⁿ ᵖʳᵒˣⁱᵐⁱᵗʸ ᵗʰᵃⁿ
ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ⸴ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ ˢᵗᵃʸ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐᵉ‧‧"
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵉⁿᵈᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵃᵗ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ
ᵖⁱⁿᵉᵃᵖᵖˡᵉ ᶜᵃʳʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘᶜʰ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ
ˢᵒ⸴ ˢᵒ ᵍˡᵃᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉⁿᵈ!"
"ʸ⁻ʸᵒᵘ ᵈᵒ?" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ ᴵ
ʷᵃⁿᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᵈ⁻ᵈⁱᵈ 
ʲ⁻ʲᵘˢᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵐᵉ?" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʷ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ
ᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃ ᵇˡᵃⁿᵏᵉᵗ‧ "ᴸᵉᵗ'ˢ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ
ᵉᵃˢʸ⸴ ᵇᵘᵈ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗ⁻ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵉⁿᵈ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ
ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧‧" "ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ˢᵗᵃʸ ᵇʸ
ʸᵒᵘ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧" "ᶜᵃⁿ ᴵ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ʰᵘᵍ?" ᔆᵃⁱᵈ
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʳᵉᵃᶜʰᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵉᶜⁱᵖʳᵒᶜᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵘᵍᵍⁱⁿᵍ
ᵍᵉˢᵗᵘʳᵉ ᶜᵃʳᵉᶠᵘˡˡʸ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ⁿⁱᶜᵉ ʰᵘᵍˢ‧"
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵘᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵛᵉʳˢ ⁿᵒʷ‧
"ᴴᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵉᵉˡ?" "ᶠᵘⁿⁿʸ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ‧‧‧
ˢˡᵉᵉᵖʸ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉˢᵗ‧"
"ᴵ ᵈ⁻ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ⸴ ᵇ⁻ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗ⸴ ʷ⁻ʷ⁻ʷʰʸ?"
"ᵂᵉˡˡ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵇᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘ!" "ᴵ ʷᵒⁿ'ᵗ
ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ᵗʰᵉⁿ‧ ᶜᵒᵒˡ?" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ
ᵖʳᵒᵐⁱˢᵉᵈ⸴ ᶠˡᵘᶠᶠⁱⁿᵍ ᵖⁱˡˡᵒʷˢ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵍʳᵃᵇˢ
ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ᵈʳᵒʷˢⁱˡʸ⸴ ᵈᵒᶻⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᶠᶠ‧‧‧
'ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃᵇʳᵘᵖᵗˡʸ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁱᵗ
ⁱˢ ᵗᵒ ᑫᵘⁱᵉᵗ‧‧' ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ
ˡᵉᶠᵗ ʰⁱˢ ˢʰⁱᶠᵗ⸴ ⁿᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ˡᵃʷⁿ‧ ᴵᶠ ᵃⁿʸ
ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ ⁱᵗ ᵘⁿˢᵉᵗᵗˡⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᵃ ⁿᵃᵖ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴹʳ‧
ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵃʷᵒᵏᵉ ʰⁱᵐ⸴ ᵗᵉˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ᶠʳʸ
ᶜᵒᵒᵏ ᵃˢ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵍᵒⁿᵉ‧ ᴴᵉ ˢⁱᵍʰᵉᵈ‧
"ᔆᴾᴼᴺᴳᴱᴮᴼᴮ ᔆᑫᵁᴬᴿᴱᴾᴬᴺᵀᔆ ᵂᴴ‧‧‧"
ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵗʳᵃⁱˡᵉᵈ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ʰⁱˢ ᵃᵇʳᵘᵖᵗ
ᵉⁿᵗʳʸ ⁿᵒʷ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱᵐ‧
ᴮᵒᵗʰ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ˢⁿᵃᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ʲᵒˡᵗ‧
"ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ‽" ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʸˢ⸴ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ
ᶜᵃᵗᶜʰᵉˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃⁿ
ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳⁱˡˡ‧‧" "ᴵ⁻ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ᵃ ˢⁱᵗᵘᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵃ⁻ᵃⁿᵈ⸴ ʷ⁻ʷᵉˡˡ 
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᶜᵃʳᵉ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ
ⁿᵒʳ ᵐᵘˢᵗ ʸᵒᵘ!" "ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ⸴ ᵖ⁻ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ‧‧"
"ᔆ⁻ᔆᵀᴼᴾ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗˡᵉᵈ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ‧
ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ˡᵉᶠᵗ‧ "ᔆᵒʳʳʸ ᴵ⸴ ʷᵉˡˡ ʰᵉ'ˢ⸴ ʰᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ
ᵇᵉ ᵃ ᵗᵃᵈ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᶜᵃʳᵉ‧ ᵂᵃⁱᵗ ʰᵒʷ'ᵈ ᴵ ᵍᵉᵗ
ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ? ᴼʰ ᴵ ᵍᵒᵗ ʰᵘʳᵗ⸴ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ; ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵉ
ʷᵉⁿᵗ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵉˡᵖᵉᵈ ᵐᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿ⁻ⁿᵒʷ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᶜᵃʳʳⁱᵉᵈ
ʸᵒᵘ ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵈⁱˢᵒʳⁱᵉⁿᵗᵉᵈ‧" "ᴵ⸴ ʰ⁻ʰᵘʰ? ᴰⁱᵈ ᴵ
ᵉⁿᵈ ᵘᵖ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ‧"
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʷ
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃʳʳʸ ⁱⁿ ʰᵉʳ ⁿᵒʷ ᵈᵒᶻⁱⁿᵍ
ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ʷʰᵉⁿ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰᵉʳ
ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵃˡˡ ᵒᶜᶜᵘʳʳᵉᵈ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵗᵃᵖᵖᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ
ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈᵉʳ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ‧
"ᴴᵉʸ ˢʷᵉᵉᵗⁱᵉ! ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵐᵉ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸ
ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ⁱⁿ
ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵒʷⁿ ᵇᵉᵈ‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵖᵘᵗ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵉᵈ
ᵃˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵐᵒᵉᵇᵃ ᵖᵘᵖᵖʸ‧
"ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵈ⁻ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ᵍᵒ!" ᴴᵉ ᶜʳⁱᵉᵈ‧ "ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵐⁱˢˢ
ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵘᶜʰ!" "ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ‧‧"
"ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵏᵉᵉᵖ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉˢᵗᵃᵘʳᵃⁿᵗ
ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵒᵘ ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ʰᵉᵃˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˡˡ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ⸴ ᵐʸ
ˢʷᵉᵉᵗˢ‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ "ᴼʰ ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏˢ
ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍ⁻ᵍᵒᵒᵈᵇʸᵉ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ
ˢᵃʸˢ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵇˡᵉʷ ᵃ ᵏⁱˢˢ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ
ˢᵐⁱˡᵉᵈ⸴ ˡᵉᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵒʳ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧‧
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵃ
ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵈᵉᵉᵖ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ⸴ ᵃⁿʸ ˡⁱⁿᵍᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ
ᵃⁿᵃᵉˢᵗʰᵉᵗⁱˢᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ʷᵒʳⁿ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵇʸ ⁿᵒʷ‧
"ᔆᵖᵒᵗ?" ᴴᵉ ˢᵃʷ ʰⁱᵐ ʷᵃᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵗᵃⁱˡ ʰᵃᵖᵖⁱˡʸ‧
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰᵒʷ ʰᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ʰᵘʳᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ
ᵗʰᵉ ᶜˡⁱⁿⁱᶜ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ⁱⁿ
ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉʳʸ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵈⁱᵈ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ
ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᶜᵃʳᵉ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵐᵘˢᵗ'ᵛᵉ ᵇʳᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ
ʰⁱᵐ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ‧
'ᴴᵒᵖᵉᶠᵘˡˡʸ ᴵ ᵈⁱᵈ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵉᵐᵇᵃʳʳᵃˢˢ ᵐʸ
ˢᵉˡᶠ ᵇᵃᵈˡʸ' ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ
ᶜᵃʳᵉᶠᵘˡˡʸ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᵇᵉᵈʳᵒᵒᵐ‧ 'ᴺᵒᵗ ˢᵘʳᵉ ᴵ
ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵏⁿᵒʷ⸴ ᵒʳ ʰᵒʷ ᵗᵒ ᶠᵃᶜᵉ
ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁱᶠ‧‧‧' ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗˢ ᵗʳᵃⁱˡ
ᵒᶠᶠ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢᵉᵉˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶜˡᵉᵃⁿ ᵗᵃᵇˡᵉˢ‧
ᴷⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ⸴ ˢʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗ
ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᶠˡᵘˢᵗᵉʳᵉᵈ/ᵉᵐᵇᵃʳʳᵃˢˢᵉᵈ‧ "ᴴⁱ
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ!" ᴳᵒᵒᵈ ˢᵒ ᶠᵃʳ‧ "ᴴᵉʸ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧‧"
"ᴵ'ˡˡ ˢᵘᵖᵉʳᵛⁱˢᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ
ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ᵗʳʸ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ
ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ ⁿᵒʳ ᵖʳᵉᵖᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃˢ
ˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ʳᵉᶜᵘᵖᵉʳᵃᵗⁱⁿᵍ‧‧" ᔆʰᵉ
ᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿᵉᵈ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒᵈᵈᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵖᵒᵗ
ˡⁱᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵍⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᵏⁱˢˢᵉˢ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ
ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗʰᵉ ʷⁱⁿᵈᵒʷ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ
ᵏʳᵃᵇ ʳᵉˢᵗᵃᵘʳᵃⁿᵗ‧ "ᴵᵗ ᵒᵖᵉⁿˢ ᵘᵖ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ 
ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ⁿᵒʷ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ˢᵉᵉ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ
ᵇᵒᵇ ᵃᵗ ᵃˡˡ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵒᵗ‧
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵉⁿᵗᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵃˢ
ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʳᵉᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᵇᵉᵈ
ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵗᵒᵍᵉᵗʰᵉʳ‧ "ᴴᵒʷ'ˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ
ʰᵉ'ˢ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ⁿᵒʳᵐᵃˡ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ
ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵃᵗ ⁱᶠ ʰᵉ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳˢ ᵒᶠ ʸᵉˢᵗᵉʳᵈᵃʸ‧‧"
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʷ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ⁱⁿ
ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵈʳᵒᵒᵐ‧ "ᴴᵉˡˡᵒ‧" "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ
ᵇᵒᵇ‽ ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵉᵉᵈⁿ'ᵗ ʲᵉᵒᵖᵃʳᵈⁱˢᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ
ʲᵒᵇ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵗᵒ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵖʳᵒᵐⁱˢᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ
ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᴵ'ᵈ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ
ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵒᶠᶠ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵖᵃᵗᵗᵉᵈ ˢᵖᵒᵗ‧
"ᴸⁱˢᵗᵉⁿ ᵏⁱᵈ ᴵ⸴ ᴵ'ᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ˢᵗᵉᵃˡ ᵗʰᵉ
ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᴵ'ᵐ ᵃˡˡ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵇᵘᵗ
ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ˡᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᴵ⁻ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ
ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳʸ ᵒᶠ ʸᵉˢᵗᵉʳᵈᵃʸ⸴ ˢᵒ‧ ᴵ ʷᵃⁿ⁻ⁿᵗ
ᵐᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵘʳᵉ ᴵ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵉᵉˡ 
ᵘⁿᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵒʳ ᵃⁿʸ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ
ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ‧ ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱᵗ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ
ᵃ ᵗᵒˡˡ ᵒⁿ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ
ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ˢᵘʳᵉ ʷᵉ⸴ ʷᵉ'ʳᵉ ᶠʳ⁻ⁱᵉ⁻ᶠ⁻ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢ‧‧"
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢⁱᵍʰᵉᵈ‧ "ᵀᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵃ ᶠ⁻ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ‧‧"
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ⁱᵗ ᵐᵘˢᵗ'ᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ʰᵃʳᵈ ᵗᵒ
ᶠᵒʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ⁿᵒʷ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ᵐʸ
ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ; ᵃ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ‧‧"

new over 1000 words wordcount: 1.000-3.000 wordcount: 1.000-5.000 unreliable memory plankarenbob to heals

  ᴮᵉʷᵃʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒˡᵈ
⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ʷⁱⁿᵗᵉʳ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ pt. 3 
"ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ⸴ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ; ᴵ'ᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ'ˡˡ ᑫᵘⁱᵗ ⁱᶠ 
ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧" "ᶜʰᵒᵒˢᵉ ʷⁱˢᵉˡʸ ᵇᵒʸ⸴ ᵒʳ ʸᵒᵘ'ˡˡ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵇᵉ ʷᵉˡᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ 
ʳᵉˢᵗᵃᵘʳᵃⁿᵗ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ!" "ᴵ ʷⁱˡˡ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵗᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵒʳ ᵇᵉ ᵖᵃʳᵗ ᵒᶠ ˢᵘᶜʰ 
ᵖʳᵒᵇˡᵉᵐᵃᵗⁱᶜ ᵇᵘˡˡʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᶠ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ; ᴵ ᑫᵁᴵᵀ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗʰʳᵉʷ
ᴷʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᴷʳᵃᵇ ʰᵃᵗ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ⸴ ᵗᵉᵃʳᶠᵘˡˡʸ ˢᵗᵒᵐᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵏⁱᶜᵏⁱⁿᵍ 
ˢᵃⁱᵈ ʰᵃᵗ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃᵘᵗⁱᵒᵘˢˡʸ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ⁱⁿˢⁱᵈᵉ ᵗʰᵉ
ʳᵉˢᵗᵃᵘʳᵃⁿᵗ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ⁿᵒʷ ᶠᵒʳᵐᵉʳ ᵇᵒˢˢ ᵉⁿᵉᵐʸ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒ ˢᵒʳʳʸ ᵐʸ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ!"
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜʳⁱᵉᵈ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵖᵃᵗᵗᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ⸴ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᶜʳʸ
ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᶜᵉⁿᵉ‧ ᴴᵉ ˡⁱᵗᵉʳᵃˡˡʸ ᵍᵒᵗ ᶜʰⁱˡˡˢ⸴ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʳⁱˢᵏᵉᵈ
ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᶜᵒˡᵈ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵃʳᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱˢ ᵖᵉᵗ ᴳᵃʳʸ
ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉ ʰᵉ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃʸ ᵇʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ˢⁱᵈᵉ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵉˡᵖᵉᵈ ᵐᵉ⸴ ˢᵒ
ˡᵉᵗ ᵐᵉ ʰᵉˡᵖ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ᶜᵘᵈᵈˡᵉˢ ᵃˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠⁱʳᵉᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ‧
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵗᵃʸᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵈᵘʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ˢᵘʳᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵃˢ
ᵏᵉᵖᵗ ʷᵃʳᵐ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ʰᵒᵗ ᵈʳⁱⁿᵏˢ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᶜᵒᶜᵒᵃ
ᶜʰᵒᶜᵒˡᵃᵗᵉ! ᴮʸ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵉᵉᵏᵉⁿᵈ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵃˢ ˢᵗʳᵒⁿᵍᵉʳ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ
ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵍᵘˡᵃʳ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ˡⁱⁿᵍᵉʳᵉᵈ‧ "ᵂʰʸ?" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ
ᴵ ᶜᵃʳᵉ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ; ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵃᵛᵉᵈ ᵐᵉ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ʳᵉᵖᵃʸ ʸᵒᵘ! ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ
ⁿᵉᵉᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ˢᵘʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ʷᵉˡˡ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ⁱⁿ
ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ʰᵘᵍ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃˡˡ'ˢ ʷᵉˡˡ‧ end final pt. 3 end

new spankton splankton bobplank plankarenbob beware the cold

ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰʸ ⁿᵉⁱᵍʰᵇᵒᵘʳ pt. 1
⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ˢᵗᵃʸˢ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾
"ᴵᵗ'ˡˡ ᵇᵉ ᶠᵘⁿ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ'ˢ ʰᵒᵘˢᵉ ⁿᵉᵉᵈᵉᵈ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ⁱᵐᵖʳᵒᵛᵉᵐᵉⁿᵗˢ
ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʷᵒʳᵏᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ‧ ᔆᵒ ʰᵉ'ˢ ˢᵗᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉʳᵉ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ⁿᵒᵗ
ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ˡᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵗᵃʸ ⁽ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ᵈⁱˢˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵒⁱˢᵉ
ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳᵏ⁾ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵈᵒᵉˢⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵗᵒ ⁱⁿᶜˡᵘᵈᵉ
ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴳᵃʳʸ ᵗʰᵉ ˢⁿᵃⁱˡ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᶜʳᵃˢʰᵉˢ ʰᵉʳᵉ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ ˡⁱᵏᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᵖˡᵃʸ ʷⁱᵗʰ
ᔆᵖᵒᵗ⸴ ᵐʸ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ'ˢ ᵖᵘᵖᵖʸ‧ ᴵ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵏᵉᵉᵖ ᵃⁿ ᵉʸᵉ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉᵐ⸴ ᵃˢ 
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵉᵃˢⁱˡʸ ᵃⁿᵍʳʸ ʷʰᵉⁿ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵃⁿⁿᵒʸˢ ʰⁱᵐ⸴
ᵃᵇˡᵉⁱˢᵗ ᵘⁿⁱⁿᵗᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿᵃˡˡʸ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᵉᵃᶜʰ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ʷᵉˡˡ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉ ᵃᵗ
ᵒᵈᵈˢ ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵒʳᵏˢ ᶠᵒʳ ᵖˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵉⁿᵉᵐʸ⸴ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ᶜᵃⁿ
ᵖᵘᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʷʳᵒⁿᵍ ʷᵃʸ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ᵒᵖᵖᵒˢⁱᵗᵉˢ ᵃᵗᵗʳᵃᶜᵗ⸴ ᵐᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ 
ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢʰⁱᵖ ᵈʸⁿᵃᵐⁱᶜ ᵈᵘᵒ ʷᵒʳᵏ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ⁿⁱᶜᵉ ᵗᵒ
ᵃˡˡ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵇᵉ ⁿⁱᶜᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ᵖˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ᴵ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ
ᵏⁿᵒʷˢ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵃ ᵖᵃᶜⁱᶠⁱˢᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵏⁿᵒʷˢ ᵖˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵍᵉʳ ⁱˢˢᵘᵉˢ
ᔆᵒ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᶜᵃⁿ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵘᵖ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᶜᵒᵐᵖʳᵒᵐⁱˢᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗ ᶻᵒⁿᵉˢ‧
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵏⁿᵒʷˢ ʰᵉ ʳᵃʳᵉˡʸ ᵒᵖᵉⁿˢ ᵘᵖ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ᵒⁿᶜᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ʷʰⁱˡᵉ
ᵈᵒᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵐᵉ ᵒʳ ʰⁱˢ ᵍʳᵃⁿᵈᵐᵃ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ʰᵃˢ ˡⁱᵐⁱᵗˢ ᵃⁿᵈ
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᵏⁿᵒʷˢ ⁱᵗ‧
ᵀʰᵉʸ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵖˡᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵗˢ ʷʰᵉⁿ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵗᵘᵇᵇᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵗᵒᵉ
ᵒⁿ ᵃ ʳᵒᶜᵏ‧ "ᵂᵃᵗᶜʰ ᵒᵘᵗ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵒᵒˡ!" ʸᵉˡˡᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ
ᵃˢ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵒᶜᵏ ᵒᶠᶠ‧ ᴵᵗˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ʷᵃʸ ᵒᶠ ˢʰᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ
ᶜᵃʳᵉˢ ᴵ ᵍᵘᵉˢˢ‧ ᵂᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ⁱᶜᵉ ᵘⁿᵗⁱˡ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ‧
ᵀʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵗˢ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ⁱⁿˢⁱᵈᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵏⁱˢˢᵉˢ‧
"ᴱᵃˢʸ⸴ ᵇᵒʸ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵗᵉˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵖᵒᵗ⸴ ʰᵒˡᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵐᵒᵉᵇᵃ‧ ᴺᵒʷ ʰᵉ'ˢ
ⁿᵒᵗ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵒᶠ ᵃ ʰᵘᵍᵍᵉʳ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢⁿᵘᵍᵍˡᵉˢ ʷⁱᵗʰ ˢᵖᵒᵗ; ʰᵉ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵈᵒᵉˢ
ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ⸴ ᵃᵗ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ˡᵉⁿᵍᵗʰ ᵒᶠ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ‧
ᴵ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵘᵍᵍᵉˢᵗ ᵃ ᵇᵒᵃʳᵈ ᵍᵃᵐᵉ⸴ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ᵐʸ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈˢ
ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵉᵗⁱᵗⁱᵛᵉ ⁿᵃᵗᵘʳᵉ‧ ᴵ ʷᵃˢ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᶠᵒᵒᵈ ʷʰᵉⁿ
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ʰᵉˡᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵃ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ‧ "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵃⁿᵃˡʸˢᵉ ᵗʰᵉ
ʳᵉᶜⁱᵖᵉ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ʸᵒᵘ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵃᵗ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵃ ᵗᵃˢᵗᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵉˡⁱᶜⁱᵒᵘˢⁿᵉˢˢ‧" 
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ "ᴮᵘᵗ ⁱᶠ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ‧‧‧" "ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ
ⁿᵒᵗ ʰᵉʳᵉ; ᵇᵉˢⁱᵈᵉˢ⸴ ʷᵉ'ʳᵉ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵉᵃᵗⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᵗ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗ ʳᵉᵛᵉᵃˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵒʳᵐᵘˡᵃ!"
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ⸴ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ ᵇᵃʳⁿᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ˡⁱᶠᵉ‧
ᵀʰᵉʸ ˢᵖˡⁱᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ⸴ ᵉᵃᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸ ˡᵃˢᵗ ᵐᵒʳˢᵉˡ! "ᵀʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵒ ᵐᵘᶜʰ
ᵏⁱᵈ‧‧‧" ᴵ ˢᵃʷ ʰᵒʷ ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉʳᵉ ʰᵉ'ˢ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵍʳᵃᵗⁱᵗᵘᵈᵉ⸴ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʳᵃʳᵉˡʸ ˢᵒ
ᵃᶠᶠᵉᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿᵃᵗᵉˡʸ ˢʰᵒʷˢ ᵃᵖᵖʳᵉᶜⁱᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ‧
end Pt. 1 to be cont.

new plankbob spongeton plankarenbob karen about thy neighbour

ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰʸ ⁿᵉⁱᵍʰᵇᵒᵘʳ sect. one
⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ˢᵗᵃʸˢ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾
"ᴵᵗ'ˡˡ ᵇᵉ ᶠᵘⁿ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ'ˢ ʰᵒᵘˢᵉ ⁿᵉᵉᵈᵉᵈ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ⁱᵐᵖʳᵒᵛᵉᵐᵉⁿᵗˢ
ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʷᵒʳᵏᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ‧ ᔆᵒ ʰᵉ'ˢ ˢᵗᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉʳᵉ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ⁿᵒᵗ
ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ˡᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵗᵃʸ ⁽ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ᵈⁱˢˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵒⁱˢᵉ
ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳᵏ⁾ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵈᵒᵉˢⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵗᵒ ⁱⁿᶜˡᵘᵈᵉ
ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴳᵃʳʸ ᵗʰᵉ ˢⁿᵃⁱˡ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᶜʳᵃˢʰᵉˢ ʰᵉʳᵉ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ ˡⁱᵏᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᵖˡᵃʸ ʷⁱᵗʰ
ᔆᵖᵒᵗ⸴ ᵐʸ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ'ˢ ᵖᵘᵖᵖʸ‧ ᴵ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵏᵉᵉᵖ ᵃⁿ ᵉʸᵉ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉᵐ⸴ ᵃˢ 
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵉᵃˢⁱˡʸ ᵃⁿᵍʳʸ ʷʰᵉⁿ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵃⁿⁿᵒʸˢ ʰⁱᵐ⸴
ᵃᵇˡᵉⁱˢᵗ ᵘⁿⁱⁿᵗᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿᵃˡˡʸ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᵉᵃᶜʰ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ʷᵉˡˡ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉ ᵃᵗ
ᵒᵈᵈˢ ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵒʳᵏˢ ᶠᵒʳ ᵖˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵉⁿᵉᵐʸ⸴ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ᶜᵃⁿ
ᵖᵘᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʷʳᵒⁿᵍ ʷᵃʸ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ᵒᵖᵖᵒˢⁱᵗᵉˢ ᵃᵗᵗʳᵃᶜᵗ⸴ ᵐᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ 
ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢʰⁱᵖ ᵈʸⁿᵃᵐⁱᶜ ᵈᵘᵒ ʷᵒʳᵏ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ⁿⁱᶜᵉ ᵗᵒ
ᵃˡˡ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵇᵉ ⁿⁱᶜᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ᵖˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ᴵ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ
ᵏⁿᵒʷˢ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵃ ᵖᵃᶜⁱᶠⁱˢᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵏⁿᵒʷˢ ᵖˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵍᵉʳ ⁱˢˢᵘᵉˢ
ᔆᵒ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᶜᵃⁿ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵘᵖ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᶜᵒᵐᵖʳᵒᵐⁱˢᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗ ᶻᵒⁿᵉˢ‧
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵏⁿᵒʷˢ ʰᵉ ʳᵃʳᵉˡʸ ᵒᵖᵉⁿˢ ᵘᵖ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ᵒⁿᶜᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ʷʰⁱˡᵉ
ᵈᵒᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵐᵉ ᵒʳ ʰⁱˢ ᵍʳᵃⁿᵈᵐᵃ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ʰᵃˢ ˡⁱᵐⁱᵗˢ ᵃⁿᵈ
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᵏⁿᵒʷˢ ⁱᵗ‧
ᵀʰᵉʸ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵖˡᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵗˢ ʷʰᵉⁿ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵗᵘᵇᵇᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵗᵒᵉ
ᵒⁿ ᵃ ʳᵒᶜᵏ‧ "ᵂᵃᵗᶜʰ ᵒᵘᵗ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵒᵒˡ!" ʸᵉˡˡᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ
ᵃˢ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵒᶜᵏ ᵒᶠᶠ‧ ᴵᵗˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ʷᵃʸ ᵒᶠ ˢʰᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ
ᶜᵃʳᵉˢ ᴵ ᵍᵘᵉˢˢ‧ ᵂᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ⁱᶜᵉ ᵘⁿᵗⁱˡ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ‧
ᵀʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵗˢ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ⁱⁿˢⁱᵈᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵏⁱˢˢᵉˢ‧
"ᴱᵃˢʸ⸴ ᵇᵒʸ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵗᵉˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵖᵒᵗ⸴ ʰᵒˡᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵐᵒᵉᵇᵃ‧ ᴺᵒʷ ʰᵉ'ˢ
ⁿᵒᵗ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵒᶠ ᵃ ʰᵘᵍᵍᵉʳ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢⁿᵘᵍᵍˡᵉˢ ʷⁱᵗʰ ˢᵖᵒᵗ; ʰᵉ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵈᵒᵉˢ
ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ⸴ ᵃᵗ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ˡᵉⁿᵍᵗʰ ᵒᶠ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ‧
ᴵ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵘᵍᵍᵉˢᵗ ᵃ ᵇᵒᵃʳᵈ ᵍᵃᵐᵉ⸴ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ᵐʸ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈˢ
ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵉᵗⁱᵗⁱᵛᵉ ⁿᵃᵗᵘʳᵉ‧ ᴵ ʷᵃˢ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᶠᵒᵒᵈ ʷʰᵉⁿ
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ʰᵉˡᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵃ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ‧ "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵃⁿᵃˡʸˢᵉ ᵗʰᵉ
ʳᵉᶜⁱᵖᵉ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ʸᵒᵘ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵃᵗ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵃ ᵗᵃˢᵗᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵉˡⁱᶜⁱᵒᵘˢⁿᵉˢˢ‧" 
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ "ᴮᵘᵗ ⁱᶠ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ‧‧‧" "ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ
ⁿᵒᵗ ʰᵉʳᵉ; ᵇᵉˢⁱᵈᵉˢ⸴ ʷᵉ'ʳᵉ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵉᵃᵗⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᵗ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗ ʳᵉᵛᵉᵃˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵒʳᵐᵘˡᵃ!"
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ⸴ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ ᵇᵃʳⁿᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ˡⁱᶠᵉ‧
ᵀʰᵉʸ ˢᵖˡⁱᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ⸴ ᵉᵃᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸ ˡᵃˢᵗ ᵐᵒʳˢᵉˡ! "ᵀʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵒ ᵐᵘᶜʰ
ᵏⁱᵈ‧‧‧" ᴵ ˢᵃʷ ʰᵒʷ ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉʳᵉ ʰᵉ'ˢ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵍʳᵃᵗⁱᵗᵘᵈᵉ⸴ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʳᵃʳᵉˡʸ ˢᵒ
ᵃᶠᶠᵉᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿᵃᵗᵉˡʸ ˢʰᵒʷˢ ᵃᵖᵖʳᵉᶜⁱᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ‧
ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵉᵃᵗⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒʸˢ ᵖᵘˡˡᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘᶜʰ ⁱⁿ ᶠʳᵒⁿᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵉˡᵉᵛⁱˢⁱᵒⁿ‧
ᔆᵉᵃᵗᵉᵈ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ᵇʸ ˢⁱᵈᵉ⸴ ᵗʰᵉʸ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ
ᴳᵃʳʸ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉˢᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧ "ᴷⁱᵈ⸴ ᵈᵒᵉˢ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵇᵒˢˢ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ‧‧‧" 
"ᴵ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʰⁱᵐ ᴵ'ᵈ ᵇᵉ ˢᵗᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ⸴ ˢᵒ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵒʳʳʸ!" 
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵖˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ˡᵉᵃⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉʳ‧ "ᵂᵃⁱᵗ⸴ ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ
ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ! ᵂʰᵃᵗ‧‧‧" "ᵀᵉˡˡ ʰⁱᵐ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ᵇᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵃ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵃᵗ ᵃⁿ ⁱⁿⁿ‽" ᴵ 
ˢᵘᵍᵍᵉˢᵗᵉᵈ‧ ᵂᵉ ᵃˡˡ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ ⁱᶠ ʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰⁱˢ
ˡᵒʸᵃˡ ʷᵒʳᵏᵉʳ ˢᵗᵃʸᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ⸴ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ⁱᶠ ⁱⁿ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᶜⁱʳᶜᵘᵐˢᵗᵃⁿᶜᵉˢ‧
ᴵᵗ'ᵈ ᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ʳⁱˢᵏ ᵒᶠ ᵗʳᵒᵘᵇˡᵉ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ⁱᵗˢ ʷᵒʳᵗʰ! ᴼⁿˡʸ ⁱᵐᵃᵍⁱⁿᵉ ⁱᶠ ʰᵉ
ᵏⁿᵉʷ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᶜⁱᵛⁱˡ ᵗᵒ ᵖˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵃˡˢᵒ ˢʰᵃʳᵉᵈ ᵃ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ‧‧‧
ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉˢ ʰᵒʷ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ⁿⁱᶜᵉ⸴ ⁿᵒ ᵐᵃᵗᵗᵉʳ ʷʰᵃᵗ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ
ʰᵉ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵃᵖᵖʳᵒᵛᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵏᵉᵉᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵃᶜᵉ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉʸ'ʳᵉ
ᵃᵗ ᵒᵈᵈˢ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵃⁿᵈˢ ʰⁱˢ ˡᵒʸᵃˡᵗʸ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ⸴ ᵃˡᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ
ʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵉˢⁿ'ᵗ ᵃᵍʳᵉᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ⁱᵗ‧ ᴴⁱˢ ᵍᵒᵃˡ ⁱⁿ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ⁱˢ ˢʰᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳˡᵈ ʰᵒʷ ᵍʳᵉᵃᵗ
ʰᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵒⁿ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᶜᵃᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵐᵒᵘˢᵉ
ᵍᵃᵐᵉ‧ ᴵ ʷᵃˢ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ⁱᵗ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʳᵒᵍʳᵃᵐᵐᵉ ᵉⁿᵈᵉᵈ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ ᵒᶠᶠ
ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵉˡᵉᵛⁱˢⁱᵒⁿ‧ ᴵ ʷʰⁱˢᵖᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ "ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ʸᵒᵘ 
ᵍᵒ ᵗᵒ ᵃᵗᵗᵉⁿᵈ ʷᵒʳᵏ‧‧‧" "ᴵᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵃʳʳⁱᵛᵉ ᵃᵗ ⁸ ᵒ'ᶜˡᵒᶜᵏ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵐ‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ
ᑫᵘⁱᵉᵗˡʸ ᵃⁿˢʷᵉʳᵉᵈ⸴ ˢᵒ ᵃˢ ᵗᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵗⁱʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ʷʰᵒ ˡᵉᵃⁿᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱᵐ ᵘⁿᵃʷᵃʳᵉˢ‧ 
ᴼⁿˡʸ ᵐᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵃᵗ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉⁿᵈ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʳᵒᵍʳᵃᵐᵐᵉ‧
ᴼʰ ʰᵒʷ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈⁿ'ᵗ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ⁱᵗ; ᴵ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶜʰᵘᶜᵏˡᵉ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵒᶠ
ʰⁱᵐ ᶠᵘʳⁱᵒᵘˢ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢⁱᵍʰᵗ‧ "ᴴᵒʷ'ˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵒᵉ?" ᴵ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ‧ "ᵂᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ‧‧‧" "ᴵˡˡ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵃ 
ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᵃᵗ ᵐʸ ᵗᵒᵉ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ˢᵃⁱᵈ⸴ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˡıᵉ ᵈᵒʷⁿ 
ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗᵃᵇˡʸ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵖˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵃ̊ʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿˢᵗ ʰⁱᵐ‧
"ᵂʰᵃᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ⁱˢ ⁱᵗ?" ᴵ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᵖˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʸ⸴ ʳᵒᵘˢⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ "ᴼʰ⸴ ᴵ ᵍᵒᵗ
ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵃᵗ ʷᵒʳᵏ! ᴰᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ˢᵘˢᵖⁱᶜⁱᵒᵘˢ⸴ ⁿᵒʳ ᵇᵉ ˡᵃᵗᵉ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ!" 
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵗᵒᵉ‧ "ᵂʰᵃᵗ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ
ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵒᵉ?" ᴵ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ ᴴᵉ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏᵉᵈ ⁱᵗ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵒ ʳᵉᵈⁿᵉˢˢ‧ "ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ ᵍᵒ ᵉᵃˢʸ ᵒⁿ ⁱᵗ‧"
"ᵂⁱˡˡ ᵈᵒ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˡᵉᶠᵗ‧ end Section 1

new plongebob karen about thy neighbour plankarenbob

ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰʸ ⁿᵉⁱᵍʰᵇᵒᵘʳ pt. 2
⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ˢᵗᵃʸˢ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾
Part Two. (cont.)

ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵉᵃᵗⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒʸˢ ᵖᵘˡˡᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘᶜʰ ⁱⁿ ᶠʳᵒⁿᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵉˡᵉᵛⁱˢⁱᵒⁿ‧
ᔆᵉᵃᵗᵉᵈ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ᵇʸ ˢⁱᵈᵉ⸴ ᵗʰᵉʸ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ
ᴳᵃʳʸ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉˢᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧ "ᴷⁱᵈ⸴ ᵈᵒᵉˢ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵇᵒˢˢ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ‧‧‧" 
"ᴵ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʰⁱᵐ ᴵ'ᵈ ᵇᵉ ˢᵗᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ⸴ ˢᵒ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵒʳʳʸ!" 
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵖˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ˡᵉᵃⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉʳ‧ "ᵂᵃⁱᵗ⸴ ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ
ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ! ᵂʰᵃᵗ‧‧‧" "ᵀᵉˡˡ ʰⁱᵐ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ᵇᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵃ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵃᵗ ᵃⁿ ⁱⁿⁿ‽" ᴵ 
ˢᵘᵍᵍᵉˢᵗᵉᵈ‧ ᵂᵉ ᵃˡˡ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ ⁱᶠ ʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰⁱˢ
ˡᵒʸᵃˡ ʷᵒʳᵏᵉʳ ˢᵗᵃʸᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ⸴ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ⁱᶠ ⁱⁿ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᶜⁱʳᶜᵘᵐˢᵗᵃⁿᶜᵉˢ‧
ᴵᵗ'ᵈ ᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ʳⁱˢᵏ ᵒᶠ ᵗʳᵒᵘᵇˡᵉ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ⁱᵗˢ ʷᵒʳᵗʰ! ᴼⁿˡʸ ⁱᵐᵃᵍⁱⁿᵉ ⁱᶠ ʰᵉ
ᵏⁿᵉʷ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᶜⁱᵛⁱˡ ᵗᵒ ᵖˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵃˡˢᵒ ˢʰᵃʳᵉᵈ ᵃ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ‧‧‧
ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉˢ ʰᵒʷ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ⁿⁱᶜᵉ⸴ ⁿᵒ ᵐᵃᵗᵗᵉʳ ʷʰᵃᵗ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ
ʰᵉ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵃᵖᵖʳᵒᵛᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵏᵉᵉᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵃᶜᵉ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉʸ'ʳᵉ
ᵃᵗ ᵒᵈᵈˢ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵃⁿᵈˢ ʰⁱˢ ˡᵒʸᵃˡᵗʸ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ⸴ ᵃˡᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ
ʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵉˢⁿ'ᵗ ᵃᵍʳᵉᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ⁱᵗ‧ ᴴⁱˢ ᵍᵒᵃˡ ⁱⁿ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ⁱˢ ˢʰᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳˡᵈ ʰᵒʷ ᵍʳᵉᵃᵗ
ʰᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵒⁿ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᶜᵃᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵐᵒᵘˢᵉ
ᵍᵃᵐᵉ‧ ᴵ ʷᵃˢ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ⁱᵗ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʳᵒᵍʳᵃᵐᵐᵉ ᵉⁿᵈᵉᵈ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ ᵒᶠᶠ
ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵉˡᵉᵛⁱˢⁱᵒⁿ‧ ᴵ ʷʰⁱˢᵖᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ "ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ʸᵒᵘ 
ᵍᵒ ᵗᵒ ᵃᵗᵗᵉⁿᵈ ʷᵒʳᵏ‧‧‧" "ᴵᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵃʳʳⁱᵛᵉ ᵃᵗ ⁸ ᵒ'ᶜˡᵒᶜᵏ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵐ‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ
ᑫᵘⁱᵉᵗˡʸ ᵃⁿˢʷᵉʳᵉᵈ⸴ ˢᵒ ᵃˢ ᵗᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵗⁱʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ʷʰᵒ ˡᵉᵃⁿᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱᵐ ᵘⁿᵃʷᵃʳᵉˢ‧ 
ᴼⁿˡʸ ᵐᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵃᵗ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉⁿᵈ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʳᵒᵍʳᵃᵐᵐᵉ‧
ᴼʰ ʰᵒʷ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈⁿ'ᵗ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ⁱᵗ; ᴵ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶜʰᵘᶜᵏˡᵉ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵒᶠ
ʰⁱᵐ ᶠᵘʳⁱᵒᵘˢ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢⁱᵍʰᵗ‧ "ᴴᵒʷ'ˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵒᵉ?" ᴵ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ‧ "ᵂᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ‧‧‧" "ᴵˡˡ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵃ 
ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᵃᵗ ᵐʸ ᵗᵒᵉ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ˢᵃⁱᵈ⸴ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˡıᵉ ᵈᵒʷⁿ 
ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗᵃᵇˡʸ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵖˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵃ̊ʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿˢᵗ ʰⁱᵐ‧
"ᵂʰᵃᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ⁱˢ ⁱᵗ?" ᴵ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᵖˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʸ⸴ ʳᵒᵘˢⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ "ᴼʰ⸴ ᴵ ᵍᵒᵗ
ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵃᵗ ʷᵒʳᵏ! ᴰᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ˢᵘˢᵖⁱᶜⁱᵒᵘˢ⸴ ⁿᵒʳ ᵇᵉ ˡᵃᵗᵉ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ!" 
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵗᵒᵉ‧ "ᵂʰᵃᵗ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ
ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵒᵉ?" ᴵ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ ᴴᵉ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏᵉᵈ ⁱᵗ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵒ ʳᵉᵈⁿᵉˢˢ‧ "ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ ᵍᵒ ᵉᵃˢʸ ᵒⁿ ⁱᵗ‧"
"ᵂⁱˡˡ ᵈᵒ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˡᵉᶠᵗ‧
end Pt. 2 to be cont.

new plongebob spongeton plankarenbob karen about thy neighbour

  ᴮᵉʷᵃʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒˡᵈ
⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ʷⁱⁿᵗᵉʳ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ pt. 1
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵃˢ ⁿᵉᵃʳ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱᶜᵉᵈ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵖᵒⁿᵈ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ ʷʰᵉⁿ ⁱᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ‧
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ʷᵃˢ ˢᵏᵃᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠʳᵒᶻᵉⁿ ᵍʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᶜʳᵃᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ
ᵒᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ‧ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵍʳᵃᵇ ᵗʰᵉ ˢⁿᵒʷʸ ⁱᶜᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵖᵘˡˡ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ
ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠʳᵉᵉᶻⁱⁿᵍ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ ⁱⁿ ᵛᵃⁱⁿ⸴ ᵃˢ ⁱᵗ ᵏᵉᵖᵗ ᵍⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ ʷᵃʸ‧ "ᴴᵉˡᵖ!"
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵉᵃˢⁱˡʸ ᵇᵉ ᵒᵛᵉʳʷʰᵉˡᵐᵉᵈ ᶠᵃˢᵗᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃⁿ
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ⁱᶠ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡˡ ⁱⁿ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵘˢⁱⁿᵉˢˢ ʳⁱᵛᵃˡ ᵃⁿᵈ
ᵐᵒʳᵗᵃˡ ᵉⁿᵉᵐʸ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˡᵒˢⁱⁿᵍ‧‧‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵇᵃʳᵉˡʸ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵛᵉ
ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ‧ ᴳʳᵃᵇᵇⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᵇⁱᵍ ᵗʳᵉᵉ ᵇʳᵃⁿᶜʰ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰᵉˡᵈ ⁱᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ
ˡᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵍʳᵃᵇ‧ ᴵᵗ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᵃˡˡ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵒᵈʸ ˢᵗʳᵉⁿᵍᵗʰ ᵗᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵈʳᵃᵍᵍᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ
ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ! ᴵᶜᵉ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᶜʳᵃᶜᵏⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵒⁱˢᵗᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ
ᵇʳᵃⁿᶜʰ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ‧ ᔆᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿˡʸ⸴ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᶠˡᵒᵃᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ
ᵗʰᵉ ˢⁱⁿᵍˡᵉ ˢʰᵉᵉᵗ ᵒᶠ ⁱᶜᵉ‧ ᵁˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇʳᵃⁿᶜʰ ᵗᵒ ᵖᵃᵈᵈˡᵉ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ
ⁿᵉᵃʳˡʸ ˢˡⁱᵖᵖᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ʷʰᵉⁿ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ˢʰⁱᵛᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵃⁿᵏᵉᵈ
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱᶜᵉ ᶜᵒˡᵈ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳˢ‧ ᵂᵉᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶜᵒˡᵈ⸴ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ
ᶜᵃʳᵉᶠᵘˡˡʸ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵒⁿ ˢᵒˡⁱᵈ ˡᵃⁿᵈ ᶜᵃʳʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ
ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧‧‧ "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵘˢʰᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ⸴ ʰʸᵖᵉʳᵛᵉⁿᵗⁱˡᵃᵗⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ 
ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵗ ᵒᶠ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʳᵃⁿ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ‧ "ᵂᵉ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ʷᵃʳᵐᵗʰ⸴ ᴺᴼᵂ!" ᴴᵉ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵗʰᵉ
ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᵒᶠ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ ˢʰᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒʳᵈᵉᵃˡ‧
"ᴵ'ˡˡ ʷᵃʳᵐ ʸᵒᵘ ᵘᵖ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵇˡᵃⁿᵏᵉᵗ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈʳʸᵉʳ‧" ˢʰᵉ ʰᵘʳʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵃˢ
ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ˡⁱᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ᵏⁱˢˢᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵗᵒⁿᵍᵘᵉ‧ ᴱⁱᵗʰᵉʳ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ'ᵛᵉ
ᵉᵃˢⁱˡʸ ᵃᵇᵃⁿᵈᵒⁿᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ˢᵃᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉᵐˢᵉˡᵛᵉˢ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵃˢ ⁱⁿ ⁿᵒ
ᵈᵃⁿᵍᵉʳ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉᵍⁱⁿ ʷⁱᵗʰ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ
ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᵃ ʳᵘⁿ ᶠᵒʳ ⁱᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒˡᵈ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢˡⁱᵖᵖᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵃᵏᵉ‧
"ᵀʰᵃⁿᵏˢ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ˢʰⁱᵛᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ‧
"ᵂʰᵃᵗ?" "ʸᵒᵘ ˡⁱᵗᵉʳᵃˡˡʸ ˢᵃᶜʳⁱᶠⁱᶜᵉᵈ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ʳⁱˢᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˢᵃᵛᵉ ᵐᵉ⸴ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ
ˢᵃᶠᵉ ᵘᵖ ᵃʷᵃʸ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ˢˡᵉᵉᵗ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ; ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᴵ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ'ᵛᵉ ᵖᵘˡˡᵉᵈ ᵘˢ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳ
ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶠˡᵘᶠᶠᵉᵈ ᵖⁱˡˡᵒʷˢ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ˢᵗᵃʸ ʰᵉʳᵉ ⁱⁿˢⁱᵈᵉ ʰᵉʳᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵘˢ ᵒᵛᵉʳ
ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ⸴ ˢᵒ ᵃˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵒᵘᵗᵈᵒᵒʳˢ ᵉˣᵖᵒˢᵘʳᵉ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ˢᵐᵃˡˡ
ˢⁱᶻᵉ ˢᵒ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ˡᵒⁿᵍᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵛᵉʳ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱⁿᶜⁱᵈᵉⁿᵗ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ʰᵃᵈ ˢᵖᵒᵗ
ˢⁿᵘᵍᵍˡᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐⁱᵈᵈˡᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗʷᵒ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵒᵖᵉᵈ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᵇᵉ ᶠⁱᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵃᵗᵗᵉⁿᵈ
ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵈᵃʸ⸴ ᵈᵉˢᵖⁱᵗᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜⁱʳᶜᵘᵐˢᵗᵃⁿᶜᵉˢ‧‧‧
ᴬˡᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ˢⁿᵉᵃᵏ ᵗᵒ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵘⁿⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁱⁿ
ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ʰᵉ ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃʸ‧ "ᴴᵉ'ˢ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ˢᵉᵉᵐˢ ˢʰᵃᵏʸ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ'ˢ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ
ˢʰⁱᵛᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ; ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵒᶠᶠ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵘⁿᵗⁱˡ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ˢᵗᵃᵇˡᵉ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ 
ⁿᵒᵈᵈᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵃᵍʳᵉᵉᵐᵉⁿᵗ⸴ ᶠⁱˣⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵒᵃᵗᵐᵉᵃˡ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ʷᵉˡˡ?" 
ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ "ᴬˢ ᵉˣᵖᵉᶜᵗᵉᵈ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵖᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃʳᵐ ᵒᵃᵗ
ᵐᵉᵃˡ ⁱⁿ ᵇᵒʷˡˢ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉᵐ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ˡᵒᵒᵏ; ᵍᵉᵗ ᵘᵖ ᶠᵒʳ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵏᶠᵃˢᵗ‽"
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵉᵃʳⁱˡʸ ˢᵃᵗ ˢᵗʳᵃⁱᵍʰᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᵃᵗᵐᵉᵃˡ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʰⁱᵐ‧
"ᴵ'ˡˡ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶠʸ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵍᵒ ⁱᶠ ᶠᵉᵉˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ⁱᵗ‧‧‧"
ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᵂʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ?" "ᵀᵒ ᵐʸ ʷᵒʳᵏ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ; ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ 
ˢᵃʸˢ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵍᵒ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵇᵉ ʰᵉʳᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧ pt. 1
to be cont. Pt. 2

new spankton splankton skatercore skatepunk plankarenbob wintercore bobplank beware the cold

ᵀᵒ ᴴⁱᵗ ᵀʰᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏ
⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾
"ᴰᵉˢᵖⁱᵗᵉ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵘⁿᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢ ʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʷⁱᵗᶜʰ
ˢᵒ ʷᵉ ⁱⁿᵈᵘᶜᵉᵈ ᵃ ᶜᵒᵐᵃᵗᵒˢᵉ/ᵘⁿʳᵉˢᵖᵒⁿˢⁱᵛᵉ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵉ‧"
ᴰᵘʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ⸴ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʰⁱᵗˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷⁱᵗʰ
ᵃ ᵇᵒᵃʳᵈ ˢᵒ⸴ ʰⁱˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁿᵒʷ
ʰᵉˡᵈ ʰⁱˢ ˡⁱᵐᵖ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ⁱⁿ ʰᵉʳˢ‧ "ᴼⁿˡʸ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ
ᵗᵒ ʰᵉᵃˡ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵉ ᵐᵒⁿⁱᵗᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁿᵒᵈˢ‧
"ᴴⁱˢ ᵇᵒᵈʸ'ˢ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉˢᵗ ˢᵒ ᵐᵉᵈⁱᶜⁱⁿᵉ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉˡᵖ
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒᵗ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ‧ ʸᵒᵘ
ᶜᵃⁿ⸴ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ ˡⁱᵏᵉ⸴ ˢᵗᵃʸ ᵖᵃˢᵗ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵒᵘʳˢ
ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵐᵃʳʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵃ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘ—
ʷᵉˡˡ ⁿᵒ ᵒᶠᶠᵉⁿᶜᵉ‧‧" "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏˢ‧"
ᴱᵛᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ʰᵉ'ˢ ˢᵉᵈᵃᵗᵉᵈ/ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ⸴ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ
ʷⁱˢʰᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵗ ᵇᵉᵈ‧
"ᴵ'ᵐ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᵇʸ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˢⁱᵈᵉ‧‧"
ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ ᵇʳᵃᵍᵍᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ᵉᵐᵖˡᵒʸᵉᵉˢ
ˢᵒ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃʸ ᵒᶠᶠ ʷᵒʳᵏ⸴ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ
ᵛⁱˢⁱᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ⁿᵒʷ 
ᶜᵒᵐᵃᵗᵒˢᵉ/ᵘⁿʳᵉˢᵖᵒⁿˢⁱᵛᵉ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃᵗ ᵈᵒʷⁿ‧
"ᴴⁱ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ! ᴵ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵇʳⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿʸ
ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ‧‧" ᔆᵃʸˢ
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ⸴ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ˢᵃᵈ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ
ᵏⁿᵒʷ⸴ ᴵ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃʸ ᵒᶠᶠ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ‧"
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵖᵃᵗˢ ʰⁱˢ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈᵉʳ‧ "ᔆᵒ ʷʰᵉⁿ
ᵉᵛᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ⸴ ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵍˡᵃᵈˡʸ ˢᵖᵉⁿᵈ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ
ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᶠᵘⁿ‧ ᴿᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵘⁿ
ˢᵒⁿᵍ ʷᵉ'ᵈ ˢⁱⁿᵍ?" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢⁱⁿᵍˢ ⁱᵗ ⁿᵒʷ‧
"ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵃⁱᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃᵗᵗᵉᵐᵖᵗ
ˢᵗᵉᵃˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵘʳ ˢᵉᶜʳᵉᵗ ˡⁱˢᵗ ᵒᶠ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ
ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ; ʸᵒᵘʳ ⁱⁿᵛᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵃʳᵉ
ᶜˡᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵃˢ ʷᵉˡˡ ᵃˢ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶜʳᵉᵃᵗⁱᵛᵉ ˢᶜʰᵉᵐᵉˢ!"
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵉᵉˢ ᵃ ˢᶜⁱᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᵐᵃᵍᵃᶻⁱⁿᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ
ʳᵉᵃᵈˢ ⁱᵗ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ "ᵂᵉˡˡ ᴵ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᶠᵉᵉᵈ ᴳᵃʳʸ
ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵗ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ‧ ᴹⁱˢˢ ʸᵒᵘ!" ᴴᵉ ˡᵉᶠᵗ‧
ᵀʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃˡᵗ
ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵉᵈᵃᵗⁱᵛᵉ/ᵃⁿᵃᵉˢᵗʰᵉˢⁱᵃ ˢᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ
ᶜᵃⁿ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ
ᶜᵃᵐᵉ⸴ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ
ᵒᶠ ⁱᵗ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‽" ᴴᵉ ˢᵃⁱᵈ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜⁱⁿᵍ ⁿᵒʷ‧
ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ˢᵃᵗ ᵇʸ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ‧ ᴴⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ
ᵇʳᵒʷ ᶠᵘʳʳᵒʷˢ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗˡʸ ˢᑫᵘᵉᵉᶻᵉᵈ
ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ᵍᵉⁿᵗˡʸ‧ "ᴴᵉʸ⸴ ˢʷᵉᵉᵗˢ; ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ‧‧"
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰᵉᵃʳˢ ʰᵉʳ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʷᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ
ᵘᵖ ⁿᵒʷ‧" ᴴᵉ ᵒᵖᵉⁿˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜⁱⁿᵍ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ
ʰᵒˡᵈⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ‧ "ʸᵃʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ ⁿᵒʷ!"
"ᵂᵉ'ʳᵉ ᵃᵗ ᴮⁱᵏⁱⁿⁱ ᴮᵒᵗᵗᵒᵐ ʰᵒˢᵖⁱᵗᵃˡ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵐʸ ᵇᵒˢˢ
ʰⁱᵗ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵉᵃˢʸ!" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ
ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗˢ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ⁿᵘʳˢᵉ'ˢ ˡᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵍᵒ ⁿᵒʷ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ
ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ⁿᵒʳᵐᵃˡ‧ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟑𝟒𝟖 

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