Karenktondy Emojis & Text

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

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

GREAT CHIP iv
(Autistic author)

In the bedroom, Karen
managed to guide Plankton
to the bed, her voice
soothing. She knew
his senses were heightened
right now, his body
a battleground.

Chip hovered in the doorway,
his eyes never leaving
his dad. He felt
like he didn't recognize
this man who had
always been his hero.

The seizure passed,
leaving Plankton 
drained.
Karen helped tucked him in,
her eyes filled with sadness.

In the quiet that followed,
she turned to Chip,
his own eyes red and puffy.
"I'm sorry you had to see that,"
she said gently.

Chip nodded, his gaze
still on Plankton's exhausted face.
"Is he okay?" he asked, his voice
barely above a whisper.

"He'll be fine," Karen assured,
her voice strained. "Just tired.
This happens sometimes."

Chip nodded, his gaze never
leaving Plankton's face. He felt
like he was seeing his dad
for the first time, like he'd
been looking at him through
a fog and suddenly, it had lifted.
He didn't know what to do
with the mix of feelings swirling
inside him: confusion, fear, sadness.

Karen took Chip's hand,
squeezing it gently. "Let's go
talk, okay?" she suggested,
leading him out of the room.
They sat in the kitchen,
the silence heavy between them.

"I don't get it," Chip said finally,
his voice still shaky. "Why
did Dad get so mad?"

Karen sighed, her grip on
his hand tightening. "It's not that
he's mad at you, sweetheart.
It's his way of dealing with the fear
and confusion. Sometimes,
his brain gets overwhelmed,
and it's like he can't control
his reactions."

Chip looked at her, his
eyes searching for understanding.
"But why does he have to break
my toys?" he asked, his voice
still small.

Karen's heart ached for him.
"It's not about the toys," she
explained softly. "It's about the
frustration he feels, the inability
to communicate what he's going 
through."

Chip sniffled, trying to wrap
his head around it all. "But why
does he get so...so...mad?"

Karen's eyes were filled with
understanding. "It's not just you,
Chip. Sometimes, his brain needs a way
to deal with everything. It's like
his own personal tornado, and when
it hits, it's hard for him to keep
his emotions from spinning out 
of control."

Chip nodded, still not fully
understanding but willing to try.
He looked down at their joined
hands, his thumb tracing small circles
on her palm. "What can I do?"

Karen squeezed his hand.
"Just be patient," she said.
"And don't take it personally.
Remember, it's not about you,
it's about what he's feeling.
And when he's ready, we can talk
about it together."

Chip nodded, feeling a mix
of relief and trepidation.
He didn't want to upset his dad
again, but he needed to know
how to help. He didn't want
to feel so powerless.

"But what if he doesn't want to talk?"
he ventured, his voice small.

"Then we'll give him space," Karen said,
her eyes filled with warmth. "But we'll
be here, ready to listen when he does."

Chip nodded, wiping away the last
of his tears with the back of his hand.

"Okay," he murmured, his voice
still shaky. "Can I sit with him?"

Karen nodded. "Just for a bit,
but remember, he might not know
you're there right away. Let's go."

They tiptoe back into the room,
the air still thick with tension.
Plankton's eye is closed. Karen
knows he's sleeping.

Chip sits in the chair beside
the bed, watching his dad's chest
rise and fall. He reaches out
to touch Plankton's hand, but stops.

He didn't want to startle him,
not after what happened. His mind
raced with questions, but he knew
now was not the time to ask.

Instead, Chip took a deep breath,
his hand hovering over Plankton's.
He didn't know how to make it right,
but he knew he had to try.

Karen watched from the doorway,
her heart heavy with the weight
of her family's pain. She knew
this was a moment that could either
build a wall or bridge the gap
between father and son.

Chip's hand hovered, unsure,
before finally landing on
his dad's. Plankton's antennae
twitched, and Chip looked up to see
his mother's eyes glistening with
proud tears.

Karen offered a gentle smile.
"You can sit with him," she whispered.
"Just don't touch him anywhere else."

Chip nodded and pulled the chair
closer to the bed, his eyes
never leaving his dad's still face.

He sat for what felt like hours,
his hand resting gently on Plankton's.
Every now and then, his dad's antennae
would twitch, and he'd hold his breath,
afraid that he'd wake him up. But Plankton
remained still, lost in a deep slumber.

The room was quiet, save for the soft
snores escaping his dad's mouth. Chip
stared at his hand on Plankton's, his mind
racing with everything he'd learned. Autism,
seizures, the way his dad's brain worked differently.
It was all so new and overwhelming.

He felt a pang of guilt for not
knowing sooner, for not understanding.
But Karen's words echoed in his mind:
his dad's reactions weren't personal. It was
just how his brain dealt with stress.

Chip leaned back in the chair,
his eyes heavy with the weight
of the day's events. He watched
his dad's chest rise and fall, the
steady rhythm comforting him.

His thoughts swirled with questions
and confusion, but he knew
one thing for sure: he loved
his dad, no matter what.

As the minutes ticked by,
his fear turned into resolve.
He would learn more about his
father and try to find a way
to support him without setting
off the storm of sensory overload.

new great chip learncore iv

ᶜᵒˡᵈ ᵃˢ ⁱᶜᵉ
⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ pt. 1
ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷᵉʳᵉ ʰᵃⁿᵍⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵃᵗ
ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵃˢ 
ᵃᵗ ⁱᵗ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ⸴ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵉᵃˡ ᵖᵃᵗᵗⁱᵉˢ‧ ᴵᵗ'ˢ
ʷⁱⁿᵗᵉʳ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ⸴ ˢᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠʳᵒᶻᵉⁿ ᵍʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ⁱᶜᵉ
ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉ ᵈᵃⁿᵍᵉʳᵒᵘˢ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴹʳ‧
ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᶜʰᵃˢᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ
ᵒⁿ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢᵗᵒᵒᵈ ᵒⁿ ᵃ ᵖᵃᵗᶜʰ ᵒᶠ ˢˡᵉᵉᵗ
ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵃ ᵇᵒᵈʸ ᵒᶠ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ‧ ᴬˢ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʷᵉⁿᵗ
ᶜˡᵒˢᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱᶜᵉ ᵖᵃᵗᶜʰ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶜʳᵃᶜᵏ‧ "ᴵᵗ'ˢ
ᵗᵒ ᵈᵃⁿᵍᵉʳᵒᵘˢ‧‧‧" "ᑫᵘⁱᵉᵗ⸴ ᵇᵒʸ!" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ
ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗᵉᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢˡⁱᵖᵖᵉᵈ
ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ ᶠˡᵉʷ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵗᵒ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ‧ "ᔆᵃᶠᵉ!"
ᴴᵉ ˢᵃⁱᵈ⸴ ᵍʳᵃᵇᵇⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵉᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵉᵐᵖᵗʸ ʰᵃⁿᵈᵉᵈ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ⁱᶜᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ
ᶜʳᵃᶜᵏ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵃʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ "ᴳʳᵃᵇ ᵐ‧‧‧" 
"ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ⸴ ʲᵉˢᵗ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ!" ᵀʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱᶜᵉ
ᵇʳᵒᵏᵉ ᵍⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ ʷᵃʸ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠʳᵉᵉᶻⁱⁿᵍ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳˢ ᵗᵒ
ᵗʰᵉ ˢʰᵒᶜᵏ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ 
ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵗᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ‧
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰⁱᵗ ⁱᶜᵉ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡˡ ⁱⁿ
ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠʳᵉᵉᶻⁱⁿᵍ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ ᵗᵒᵗᵃˡˡʸ ʰᵉˡᵖˡᵉˢˢ‧ ᴿⁱˢᵏⁱⁿᵍ
ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜʳᵃʷˡᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ʰᵉ
ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ʳᵉᵃᶜʰ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴸᵘᶜᵏⁱˡʸ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᶜˡᵒˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ˢᵒ
ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ
ʷᵒʳᵏ‧ ᴴᵉ ᶜᵃʳʳⁱᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧
ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵍᵃˢᵖᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵇʳᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ
ⁱⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᶠʳᵉᵉᶻⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˡⁱᵗ ᵗʰᵉ
ᶠⁱʳᵉᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ‧ "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ⸴ ʷʰᵃᵗ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ⸴ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵃˡˡ ᵐʸ
ᶠᵃᵘˡᵗ! ᴹᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᶜᵒʳⁿᵉʳᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷʰᵒ
ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵗᵉᵃˡⁱⁿᵍ? ᴵ ˢᵉᵉ‧ ᴵᵗ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ
ᶠᵃᵘˡᵗ‧‧‧" ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ˢᵃʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜˡᵘᵗᶜʰⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵃʳᵐ‧ 
"ᴸᵒᵒᵏ⸴ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ˡᵃᵗᵉ; ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵍᵉᵗ ˢᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵃ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖⁱⁿᵍ
ᵇᵃᵍ ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵘʸˢ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘᶜʰ‧"
ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵗʰᵉᵐ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵒⁿ
ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘᶜʰ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵘʳᵗⁱⁿᵍ?"
"ᴹʸ ᵃʳᵐ‧‧‧" "ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᴴᵒʷ ᵈᵒ
ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵉᵉˡ?" "ᶜᵒˡᵈ⸴ ᵗⁱʳᵉᵈ‧‧‧" ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ'ˢ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖⁱⁿᵍ
ᵇᵃᵍ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘᶜʰ⸴ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᵍᵒᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉ
ʷᵃʳᵐ ᵇˡᵃⁿᵏᵉᵗˢ‧ "ᵀʰᵃⁿᵏˢ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ
ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ⸴ ᵗʰᵉʸ
ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᶠᵃˡˡᵉⁿ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ; ᴵ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ʰᵃᵛᵉⁿ'ᵗ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵉⁿ
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵃʳᵐ ᵇᵃⁿᵈᵃᵍᵉᵈ ʸᵉᵗ‧‧‧" ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ 
ʷʰⁱˢᵖᵉʳᵉᵈ‧ "ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʷᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ
'ᵉᵐ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵘᶜᵏ ⁱⁿ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ'ˡˡ
ʷʳᵃᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃʳᵐ; ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉʸ'ˡˡ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᵇᵉ
ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ‧‧‧" 
To be cont. Pt. 2

new karendy karandyn plankdy plankdyren plangebob plarenbob sandarenton cold as ice

ᶜᵒˡᵈ ᵃˢ ⁱᶜᵉ
⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ pt. 2
ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶠⁱˣᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇˡᵃⁿᵏᵉᵗ ᶜᵒᵛᵉʳˢ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃⁿᵈ
ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᵍᵒᵗ ˢᵃⁿᵈʸ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵃⁱᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᵁˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵖˡᵃˢᵗᵉʳ
ᵈʳᵉˢˢⁱⁿᵍˢ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵃⁱᵈ ᵏⁱᵗ⸴ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ
ᶠˡⁱⁿᶜʰ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵃⁿᵈᵃᵍᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃʳᵐ‧ ᴼⁿᶜᵉ ˢʰᵉ
ᶠⁱⁿⁱˢʰᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ʰᵉ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ⸴ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ⸴ ᶠᵒʳ ʰᵉ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ʳᵉᵐᵃⁱⁿˢ
ⁱⁿ ᵈᵉᵉᵖ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ "ᴵᵗ'ˢ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ᵃ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉˣʰᵃᵘˢᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵈᵃʸ
ᶠᵒʳ 'ᵉᵐ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ ᴱᵃʳˡʸ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵈᵃʸ⸴ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ
ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵘᵖ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ‧ "ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵍᵒ ᵗᵉˡˡ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ
ⁱˢⁿ'ᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ʷᵒʳᵏⁱⁿᵍ‧‧‧" ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ
ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃʷᵒᵏᵉ ᵃˢ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ⁱⁿ‧
"ᴼᵘ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢⁱᵗ ᵘᵖ‧ ᴾᵃⁱⁿ ˢᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿˡʸ
ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ᵃʳᵐ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵒᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ ᵃⁿᵈ
ᶜᵃᵗᶜʰᵉˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶜᵒˡˡᵃᵖˢᵉᵈ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ
ᵖᵃⁱⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵃᶜᵏ ᵒᶠ ᵉⁿᵉʳᵍʸ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ
ʰᵘʳᵗ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᵂʰᵃᵗ‧‧‧" 
"ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ ⁱⁿʲᵘʳᵉᵈ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵃʳᵐ ᵃˢ ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵃᵈ
ᶠᵃˡˡᵉⁿ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ⁱᶜᵉ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᶠⁱˣᵉᵈ ⁱᵗ ᵘᵖ
ˡᵃˢᵗ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ʳᵉˢᵗ ˢᵒ ᵃˢ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵃˢ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ
ᵃˢ ⁿᵉʷ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵉˣᵖˡᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ‧ "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᴵ
ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ ᵇᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ʷᵒʳᵏ
ˢᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ʳᵉˢᵗ ᵉᵃˢʸ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ᵃᵗ
ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ; ⁱᵗ'ˢ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ
ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᶠᵉ ˢⁱᵈᵉ‧ ʸ'ᵃˡˡ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ʳᵉᵐᵃⁱⁿ ᵗᵒᵍᵉᵗʰᵉʳ ᵒⁿ
ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘᶜʰ‧‧‧" ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ˢᵖᵃᶜᵉ ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ
ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰᵉʳ‧ "ᵂᵃⁿⁿᵃ ʰᵘᵍ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏ‧‧‧" "ᴵ
ᵃᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵃ ʰᵘᵍᵍᵉʳ⸴ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵃˢᵏ
ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜʰᵃⁿᵍᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵐⁱⁿᵈ‧" "ᴱᵛᵉⁿ ⁱᶠ ᴵ ʷᵃˢ⸴ ᵐʸ
ᵃʳᵐ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ ᶠᵉᵉˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵃᵈ? ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᵃ ᵐᵃˢˢᵃᵍᵉ
ᵗᵉᶜʰⁿⁱᑫᵘᵉ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵘᵇᵇᵉᵈ ⁱᵗ ᵒⁿᶜᵉ
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰᵉˡᵈ ⁱᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ "ᵂʰʸ ᵃʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵒ ⁿⁱᶜᵉ ᵗᵒ 
ᵐᵉ⸴ ᵏⁱᵈ?" "ᴵ'ᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵃˡˡ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ˢᵉᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃˢ
ᵃ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵈᵉˢᵉʳᵛᵉ‧‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡⁱˢᵗᵉⁿ
ᴵ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉⁿ'ᵗ ᵇⁱᵍ ᵒⁿ ᵃᶠᶠᵉᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵈᵒ
ᶜᵃʳᵉ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ! ᴺᵒʷ⸴ ʳᵉˢᵗ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉˢᵗ‧‧‧"
To be cont. Pt. 3

new karendy karandyn plankdy plankdyren plangebob plarenbob sandarenton cold as ice

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

SHELF IMPROVEMENT iv
(Autistic author)

The next morning, Karen
awoke with the sun, her
mind still heavy with the
weight of the previous night's
discovery. Plankton slept
peacefully beside her, his
breathing even and deep.
For a moment, she allowed
herself to hope that was just a bad
dream, a fleeting nightmare
that would disappear. But when
she looked over at him, she
knew it was all too real.

Her eyes took in the 
familiar lines of his 
face, the way his antennae
twitched even in sleep. 
They had faced challenges
before, and they would 
face this one too.

Gently, she slipped 
from the bed, not wanting 
to wake him. She knew he 
needed his rest. In the 
kitchen, she started to 
make his breakfast 
smoothie. She had read 
about autism, knew 
it could manifest in 
different ways, but she had 
never thought it would 
touch their lives so 
suddenly, so profoundly.

The blender whirred to 
life, slicing through 
the fruit and yogurt. The 
smell of strawberries and 
bananas filled the room, 
a stark contrast to the 
heaviness of her thoughts.

As she poured the smoothie 
into a glass, her mind raced 
with questions. How would 
this change their 
relationship? What did 
this mean for Plankton's 
life? What could she do 
to help him?

The sudden sound of 
footsteps on the floor 
snapped her out of her 
thoughts. Plankton. She turned 
around to see him standing 
in the doorway, his 
expression tentative. His 
eye searched hers, and she 
forced a smile, hoping to 
reassure him.

"Breakfast," she said, 
holding out the smoothie.
"Your favorite."

Plankton's antennae 
twitched, and he took 
a step forward, his eye
locking onto the glass. 
"Smoothie," he murmured.

Karen clenched at
his response, so unlike 
his usual greeting. "Yes, 
a strawberry-banana smoothie."
Her voice was filled with
hope, trying to keep their
morning routine as 
normal as possible.

He took the glass from 
her, his grip careful, 
his movements precise. 
He took a sip.

Karen watched him. "How 
does it taste?" she 
asked, trying to keep 
the desperation out of 
her voice.

Plankton paused, his 
eye blinking thoughtfully. 
"Good," he said finally, 
his voice still subdued. He 
took another sip, his 
expression unreadable.

Karen's smile grew 
wider, genuine this 
time. "I'm so glad. Why don't you 
sit down?" She gestured to 
the kitchen table. "I'll get 
you some toast."

Plankton nodded 
slowly, his movements 
deliberate. He sat at the 
table, his gaze fixed 
on the smoothie. Karen 
felt the weight of his 
silence as she busied 
herself with the toaster. 
But the pop of the bread 
springing up snapped 
his attention to her.

"Too much noise," he 
mumbled, flinching at the 
sound. Karen 
sank. She had forgotten 
how sensitive his 
hearing might become. 
She quickly turned off the 
toaster and approached 
the table.

"I'm sorry," she said 
softly, placing the plate of 
toast before him. "Did the 
toaster bother you?"

Plankton nodded, his 
antennas quivering slightly.
"Noise," he said, his voice 
barely above a whisper.

Karen felt a pang 
of guilt. "I'll be more 
careful," she promised, 
placing a gentle hand on 
his back. She watched 
as he took a deep 
breath, visibly trying to 
regain his composure.

They sat in silence 
for a moment, the weight 
of the new normal 
pressing down on them 
like a thick fog. Karen 
wanted to fill the air with 
words, to reassure him 
and herself, but she knew 
that sometimes silence 
was the best comfort.

As Plankton took a bite 
of toast, she observed 
his every move, looking 
for any signs of 
distress. His antennae 
were still, his eye focused 
on his food. It was as 
if the world had narrowed 
to just the two of them 
and their quiet breakfast.

But then, she heard
Plankton's words.
"Breakfast," he murmured,
his antennae twitching.
"Did the toaster bother you."

It took Karen a second
to realize that Plankton
was actually responding
to his own thoughts. She watched
as he paused, his antennae
twitching again. "Noise," he said,
his voice echoing in the 
silent room. Was he 
talking to himself? Or was this 
a new part of his autism, 
a way of processing 
information?

"No," she said gently, 
sitting down beside him. 
"The toaster is okay now. 
It's quiet."

Plankton nodded, his 
antennas stilling. He 
chewed slowly, his gaze 
flickering to Karen 
before returning to the 
bread. "Karen," he said 
after a moment, his voice 
clearer now. "The toaster
okay says it's quiet, Karen
said no is okay now."
He was parroting her 
words, but with a 
slight delay. It was 
as if he was trying to 
make sense of them, to 
process the conversation 
in his own time. 
"Yes, Plankton," she 
replied. "The toaster 
is quiet now."

Plankton nodded again, 
his antennae still. He 
took another bite of 
toast, chewing slowly. 
Then, out of the blue, 
he spoke again, his voice 
stronger this time. "Karen 
loves Plankton?"

"Yes, Plankton, I do," she 
replied, her voice 
steady. "Karen loves you 
very much."

Plankton's antennae 
twitched once before 
going still. He took another 
sip of his smoothie, his 
face a canvas of contemplation. 
"Plankton loves Karen," 
he murmured, almost to 
himself. It was as if he 
was reassuring himself of 
their bond.

Karen felt a warmth 
spread through her. 
This was a new aspect 
of his autism, but 
it was also a sign that 
he was trying to understand 
his feelings, to make 
sense of the world around 
him. "Yes," she said, 
squeezing his hand. "And 
Karen loves Plankton 
right back."

Plankton nodded, 
his gaze returning to 
his food. Karen could 
see the wheels turning 
in his mind, trying to 
comprehend the change. 
He took another sip of 
his smoothie, his antennae 
twitching slightly as he 
swallowed. "Different," 
he said again. "But same love."

Despite the 
confusion, he had 
managed to articulate 
his feelings with a 
simplicity that was both 
heartbreaking and 
beautiful. She squeezed 
his hand, her screen 
shimmering with unshed 
tears. "Yes, Plankton," she 
said, her voice thick with 
love. "Same love, no matter 
what."

Plankton's gaze 
shifted to her, his 
eye focusing on her 
damp screen. His antennae 
stood straight up, and he 
frowned slightly. "Tears," 
he said, his voice 
concerned. "Karen sad?"

"No, Plankton," she said 
softly. "These are happy 
tears." But she knew 
that might not make sense 
to him, so she tried to 
explain further. "They're 
because I'm feeling a 
lot of love for you right 
now, and my body..." "Love 
makes Karen sad?" he 
interrupted.

Karen sighed, 
knowing that explaining 
emotions to a 
suddenly autistic Plankton 
was going to be tough. "No, 
not sad," she corrected. "They're 
just tears that come when 
I'm really happy or 
overwhelmed with love. It's 
a good thing, I promise."

Plankton's antennae 
twitched as he processed 
this information. "Good 
tears," he murmured. "Karen 
love making good tears."

Karen couldn't help but 
smile, despite the heaviness 
of the situation. His 
childlike innocence was a 
beacon of light in the 
darkness. "Yes," she 
nodded, her voice 
steady.

"Good tears," she said 
again, her thumb brushing 
away a tear that had 
escaped. "Now, let's eat 
our breakfast, okay?"

new shelf improvement karen plankton iv

KAREN AND THE AUTISTIC JOURNEY i 
(Autistic author)

Sheldon Plankton's new safety 
vault was a masterstroke that 
would leave even the great 
Squidward Tentacles in awe.

Plankton's nefarious eye
lit up with greed as he surveyed 
his latest invention. The vault, 
though not as grandiose as the 
Krabby Patty's secret formula, was a 
testament to his own ingenuity. It was 
a gleaming, metal cube, to store 
his most precious possessions: his 
beloved Krabby Patty copies. He had 
spent weeks crafting it, ensuring that 
not even the most persistent of jellyfish 
could breach its impenetrable exterior.
Even his robotic computer wife Karen
is impressed!

The safety vault was positioned 
in the most secure corner of the 
Chum Bucket, surrounded by a 
moat of acid and a minefield of 
his own design. Plankton felt a 
thrill of excitement as he approached it, 
tingling with anticipation. But 
his excitement was his downfall, as 
his enthusiasm caused him to trip 
over a stray piece of wire, sending 
his body hurtling towards the 
unyielding metal structure.

With a resounding thump, his 
skull connected with the vault's 
cold, unforgiving surface. The room 
spun around him briefly before 
everything faded to black. His tiny 
body slumped to the floor as Karen  
helplessly watched.

"Plankton, are you okay?" she 
asked, her voice a robotic echo in 
the otherwise silent room.
But there was no response, only 
his limp body lying on the floor.

Her diagnostic systems quickly 
determined that despite the impact, 
his vital signs were stable.

"Plankton, wake up!" she called out, 
shaking him gently. But his eye
remained closed, and his body 
motionless. Plankton was 
out cold, unresponsive.

With a sigh, Karen knew that
she had to take matters into her
own robotic hands. She carefully
picked him up and placed him on a
nearby chair. His head lolled to the
side.
He still didn't wake up, but at least he
was alive. "Wake up, my
dear," she cooed.

Her concern grew as she
realized he wasn't responding to
her voice commands. Plankton had
always been a lightweight when it
came to bumps on the head,
but this was unusual.

With a whirring sound, Karen
engaged her medical protocols and
scanned Plankton with a glowing
eye beam. The readings confirmed
his condition: acquired
Autism. "Oh dear," she murmured,
more to herself. She
carefully set him down on the
couch, ensuring he was comfortable.

"Plankton," she called out
again, this time with a touch of
urgency. "You must wake up!" But his
body remained still, his chest rising
and falling in a steady rhythm.

"Plankton, can you hear me?" she
asked, her voice now tinged with worry.
He didn't respond. She tried a
different approach, speaking in a
soothing tone that she knew he liked.
"Mr. Krabs will never know about
this, I promise." His favorite
topic of the Krabby Patty formula didn't
even stir a reaction.

The room remained eerily
silent, save for the faint hiss of
his breathing and the steady
hum of her processors. Karen felt a
rare sense of helplessness, her
hands hovering over his unresponsive
form. She had seen Plankton in many
scrapes before, but this was different.
Autism was something she hadn't
accounted for in her programming.

Her thoughts raced as she tried to
recall any information on the condition.
It was a spectrum, she knew.

As she waited for a response,
Plankton's eyelid began to twitch.
Slowly, his eye opened, focusing
on the ceiling. Karen's heart
leaped in hope. But when he finally
managed to look at her, his gaze was
unusually blank.

"Karen," he mumbled, his voice
slurred. "What happened?"

Karen's circuits buzzed with relief.
"You had a bit of an accident,
dear. You bumped your head," she
explained calmly.

But Plankton's response was not
what she expected. He just stared
at her, repeating her words. "Accident.
Bumped head." His voice was flat,
lacking the usual sneer and
cunning tone that accompanied his
schemes.

Her relief quickly turned to
concern. His behavior was unlike
anything she had seen in their
long history of working together.
Karen knew that autism was a
complex condition, affecting each
individual differently. But the
way Plankton repeated her
words, with no inflection or
understanding, was unsettling.
The autism is irreversible. "Plankton you
have autism now.."

The room's silence grew
heavier, filled with the weight of
the unspoken. Plankton's eye
flitted around the room, not
focusing on anything in particular.
Karen watched him, her mind racing
through potential scenarios.
How would this change their dynamic?
How would he cope with the world?

"What's autism?" Plankton asked,
his voice still devoid of its usual
sharpness. Karen paused, trying
to find the simplest way to
explain something so complex.

"It's a condition, Plankton. It
means your brain works a bit differently
now," she began. "You might repeat
things, or find social situations
difficult to understand. It's okay,
though. We'll figure this out
together."

Plankton blinked at her, the
wheels in his head visibly turning.
"Different?" he echoed. "How different?"

Karen took a deep breath, her
synthetic skin mimicking a human
sigh. "Well, it can vary greatly,
but for you, it might mean that
some things will be harder to
understand, and others may become
obessions."

Plankton's eye focused on her,
his curiosity piqued. "Obsessions?"
he repeated, his voice still
lacking its usual malicious edge.

Karen nodded, trying to put a
positive spin on the situation.
"Yes, but obsessions can be good.
You've always been obsessed with
the Krabby Patty, and that has
driven you to create so many
amazing inventions."

But Plankton was not listening. His
eye had locked onto the gleaming
safety vault, and his voice grew
steady and intense. "Vault," he murmured.

Karen watched as the gears in
his mind seemed to click into place.

"I'll help you to bed 
Plankton," Karen says.

He repeats her words back to her.
"Help to bed."

Gently, Karen guides him
towards their makeshift living quarters
behind the Chum Bucket's lab. His
steps are unsteady, his legs moving
as if they're not quite his own.

"Goodnight, Plankton," she says softly,
kissing his forehead. "Goodnight
Karen," he murmurs, his voice a
mimic of hers.

As she pulls the covers over
his frail body, his hand shoots out,
grabbing hers. "Stay," he says, with
the same urgency he used to demand
help with his latest schemes.

Karen pauses, looking at him
with a mix of affection and
worry. "I'll be right here," she
promises, her voice soothing. She
sits on the edge of the bed, her
metallic hand in his tiny grip.

The silence stretches out
between them, filled only with the
steady rhythm of Plankton's breathing.
Karen's mind whirs with
thoughts of their future, her
fingers gently stroking the
back of his hand. "It's going to be okay,"
she repeats, as much for herself as
for him.

Plankton's gaze shifts to meet
hers, his expression unreadable.
"Okay," he parrots, the word
hanging in the air like a question.

Karen's circuits whir with a
mixture of emotions. She had
never felt so protective of him.
This newfound vulnerability in
his demeanor tugged at her
programming, bringing a warmth
to her cold metal frame that she
couldn't quite comprehend.

"You're going to be okay," she
reassures him, her voice a soft
hum in the quiet room. "We'll
figure out what this means for
you, and for us." Plankton nods,
but his gaze is distant, lost in
thoughts she can't quite
fathom.

As they sit together in the
silence, Karen can't help but
reflect on the years they've spent
scheming and plotting. Despite
his single-minded obsession with
stealing the Krabby Patty secret
formula, he had always had a
certain charm, a spark that had
kept her by his side. Now,
that spark seems to have faded,
replaced by a vacant stare.

Plankton's grip on her hand
tightens, and she squeezes back,
trying to convey comfort without
words. She wonders what this
new chapter in their lives will
bring. Will he still be the
same Plankton she knows and loves,
or will he change in ways she
can't predict?

Karen destroys the safety vault
and both of them are glad to 
have gotten rid of the vault.
Plankton nods in approval.

"You want me to tuck you in?"
Karen asks.

Plankton nods, his eye still
glued to the ceiling. "Tuck in."

Karen gently takes his hand,
helping him. His body
stiffens at first, then relaxes into
the bed. She pulls the blankets up
to his legs, for he remains sitting up.
He watches her movements with a
curiosity that is almost childlike.
Plankton starts to rock
back and forth, his legs moving in a
rhythmic pattern. It's a behavior
Karen has never seen before,
but she quickly recognizes it as
stimming - a common trait among
those with autism.

"Is this okay?" she
asks. Plankton nods, his
rocking increasing slightly in speed.
He seems comforted by the shared
rhythm, his eye finally closing as he
lay down.

Karen continues to watch him,
his small frame lost in the
overly large bed. She knows that
this is only the beginning of a
new journey, one she's not quite
prepared for. But she's a computer.
She can adapt. She'll learn and
grow with him, just like she has
always done.

new karen and the autistic journey headinjuryposting autismcore i

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

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

🇮🇻🇻🇮🇮

new viii sevener xviii iv eighteen 7 8

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

new girlsnight karandyn planktarendy planktarl krabskin holidaycore sandearl sandarenton kruff plaren splankaren karen plankton walking the prank

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

KAREN AND THE AUTISTIC JOURNEY ix
(Autistic author)

Plankton's smile flickers back
to life, his eye lighting up
slightly. "Good," he says,
a monotone echo. "Friend."

Sponge Bob nods, his smile
genuine despite the sadness
still lingering in his eyes.
"Always," he says, his voice
filled with warmth. "Well,
what should we do now?"

Plankton's gaze shifts
to the book, then to Sponge Bob.
"Movie," he says, his voice
picking up a hint of excitement.
"Friend watch movie." His hands
flap in a pattern that seems to
mirror his thoughts racing.

Sponge Bob's smile is a mix
of relief and excitement.
"Movie?" he repeats, his eyes
lighting up. "Yeah, let's watch a
movie! What do you want to see?"

Plankton's eye dart around
the room, his hands flapping
in a flurry of indecision. "You
choose," he says, his voice a
monotone. "You know me." His
antennas twitch with anticipation.

Sponge Bob's smile is filled
with understanding. "Okay,
then," he says, his voice calm.
He scans the bookshelf, looking
for a title that might spark
Plankton's interest. "How about
this one?" he asks, holding up a
DVD case with a picture of the
Dirty Bubble on the front.

Plankton's antennas perk up,
eyelighting up at the sight
of the villainous bubble's grinning face.
"Yes," he says, his voice a
monotone. "Dirty Bubble." His
hands flap in excitement.

Sponge Bob's heart squeezes
with love and concern for his
unique friend. "Alright, Plankton,"
he says, his voice gentle. "Let's
watch 'The Great Dirty
Bubble Heist'." He pops the
DVD into the player, the
machine whirring to life.

The two of them settle on the
couch, Sponge Bob's arm
draped protectively around
Plankton's shoulder. Plankton's
hands are still, his gaze fixed
on the screen as the movie starts.
The TV flickers to life, casting
a warm glow over the room.

Sponge Bob feels Plankton's
body relax slightly against his
side, his eyes never leaving the
colorful bubble of the Dirty
Bubble's latest escapade.

As the movie plays, Plankton's
flapping subsides, his gaze
transfixed by the screen. The
sounds of bubbles popping and
laughter fill the room, a stark
contrast to the silence that
typically accompanied their
stakeouts at the Chum Bucket.

Sponge Bob feels Plankton's body
relax further into the couch, his
shoulder leaning into him. He
notices Plankton's antennas
twitch slightly with every joke,
his eye flickering with
understanding at the slapstick
humor. It's a small sign of
connection, but it's enough.

The movie's plot unfolds, and
Plankton's chuckles echo through
the room, his laughter a
comforting reminder of their
long-standing friendship. Sponge
Bob smiles, watching Plankton
react to the familiar beats of
the film's storyline. It's clear
his friend's love for the
simple pleasure of laughter
hasn't changed.

As the film progresses,
Plankton's chuckles grow softer,
his eyelid drooping as he's 
nestled against Sponge
Bob. He's falling asleep,
his mind finally at ease in the
comforting embrace of his friend.
His head lolls to the side,
his antennas coming to rest
on Sponge Bob's arm. His
mouth has fall open slightly,
his breaths even and deep.

Sponge Bob's heart swells with
tenderness, watching Plankton's
face. He gently shifts
his position, adjusting the
small blanket over Plankton to
keep him warm. The TV's light
continues to flicker across
their faces, casting shadows
on the walls. Sponge Bob
doesn't want to wake him;
instead, he takes the moment
to study his friend's newfound
peace.

Plankton's antennas, usually
a blur of activity, are still,
his breaths deep and rhythmic.
Sponge Bob notices the slightest
tremble in his friend's hand,
now resting on the couch cushion.
He gently takes it in his,
intertwining their fingers.
Their friendship remains
a bastion of comfort and acceptance.

The TV echoes in
the room, punctuating
the silence between them.
Sponge Bob feels Plankton's body
relax further into the couch,
his head now resting heavily
against his shoulder. Plankton's
laughter has turned to soft snores,
his antenna twitching with each
breath he takes.

Karen peeks into the room,
and sees Plankton
asleep against Sponge Bob's side.
She goes closer,
wanting to make sure
Plankton is ok.

She feels warmth
seeing their friendship
unchanged by his diagnosis.
Sponge Bob, ever the caretaker,
has his arm around Plankton,
his hand over Plankton's, their
fingers intertwined.

Karen smiles softly with pride.
This moment of peace,
despite the turmoil,
shows their unyielding bond.

"You guys okay?" she asks,
her voice a gentle whisper.

Sponge Bob nods. "Yeah, Karen,"
he says, his voice low. "We're
just watching a movie."

Karen's smile is filled
with warmth as she steps
closer. "I can see that," she
whispers. "How is he?"

Sponge Bob's gaze shifts
to her, his smile a mix
of relief and sadness.
"Different," he says, his voice
soft. "But still Plankton."

Karen nods with understanding.
"He's been through a lot," she says,
her voice a gentle whisper.
"But he's strong, and he has
his friends." She sits down
on the couch, her hand reaching
out to rest on Plankton's leg.
Her touch is light, comforting.

Plankton's body twitches slightly
in his sleep, his antennae
stirring. Sponge Bob squeezes 
Plankton's hand gently.
"You're ok, buddy," he murmurs,
his voice a soft reassurance.

Karen sits down beside them,
gaze on Plankton's serene
expression.

"I'm here," she says, her voice
soft. "Always." She reaches out,
her hand resting on Plankton's
knee. The touch
penetrates his subconscious,
his antennae twitching slightly
in response.

Sponge Bob nods. "Thanks,
Karen," he whispers, his voice
filled with gratitude. "I'm
still trying to get used to
this new Plankton."

Karen's expression is one
of quiet understanding. "It's
ok," she says, her voice a
soothing balm. "It's a lot to
process, but you're doing
great." She looks down at
Plankton, his small form
snuggled against Sponge Bob.
"He's lucky to have you," she
whispers.

Sponge Bob nods,
his voice thick with emotion.
"But it's hard to see him
like this." His eyes
well with tears, his grip on
Plankton's hand tightening.

Karen's gaze is filled with
compassion as she looks at
Plankton. She reaches
over, her hand gently brushing
his cheek. "He's still the same
Plankton," she whispers. "He's just
learning to navigate a new
part of himself."

Sponge Bob nods, his eyes
still fixed on the TV. "I know,"
he says, his voice tight. "But it's
so...different." His eyes
flicker with unshed tears.

Karen's gaze remains on
Plankton's peaceful face,
her hand still on his knee.
"It is," she says, her voice
soft. "But different isn't bad,
Sponge Bob." She looks at him,
her eyes filled with a gentle
wisdom. "It's just new. And
sometimes, new things take
getting used to."

Sponge Bob nods. "I know,"
he says, his voice a whisper.
"It's just..." He pauses, his
thoughts racing. "It's just that
I want to be there for him,
you know?" His voice cracks,
his grip on Plankton's hand
becoming stronger.

Karen nods
with empathy. "I know you do,
Sponge Bob," she says, her voice
soft. "And you are." She reaches
over, placing a comforting hand
on Sponge Bob's shoulder. "You
just need to be patient with him,
and with yourself. We're all
learning together."

The TV laugh track fades into
silence as the movie reaches
its end. Plankton's snores remain
steady, a testament to his
sleep. Sponge Bob sighs, his
eyes finally leaving the screen.
He looks down at their joined
hands.

"I'll be patient," he murmurs,
his voice barely audible. "For
you, Plankton." His eyes
meet Karen's, a silent promise
passing between them. "I
know you will," she says, her voice
a gentle encouragement. "You've
always been a good friend."

The room is quiet, save for
Plankton's soft snores.

Sponge Bob's eyes remain on
the TV, his thoughts
spinning. Karen's words echo in
his head: different isn't bad,
just new. He looks down at
Plankton.

He tries to imagine a world
where Plankton doesn't have
autism, but the thought feels
wrong. This new version of
his friend is still Plankton,
still the same in so many ways.
Their bond is strong,
their friendship unchanged.

He squeezes Plankton's hand,
his thoughts racing. "I'll be
there for you," he whispers,
his voice a promise. "We'll
figure this out together."

Plankton's snores hitch slightly,
his antenna twitching in his sleep.
Sponge Bob's filled
with a newfound determination.
He'll be there for Plankton, no matter
what. His heart swells
as he leans down,
his lips brushing Plankton's forehead
in a soft kiss.

The room is a cocoon of quiet,
their friendship a beacon in the
stillness. Karen watches them,
her heart heavy but hopeful.
"Let's get him to bed," she says,
her voice a gentle whisper.

Sponge Bob nods, his movements
careful as he lifts Plankton into
his arms. Plankton's eye flutter
open briefly, his gaze confused
but quickly calming at the sight
of Sponge Bob's smiling face.

"Tired," Plankton murmurs, his
voice sleepy. Sponge Bob nods,
his smile gentle.

"Come on, buddy," he says, his voice
a warm whisper. "Let's get you to
bed." They're careful not to jostle
him to much.

Plankton's eye droop closed
again, his body limp in Sponge
Bob's embrace. Karen leads the
way to the bedroom.

The bed is made with fresh
sheets, the room organized with
care. Plankton's favorite 
gadgets line the shelves,
each item meticulously placed. 

Sponge Bob lays Plankton
gently on the bed,
body is heavy with sleep, his
snores a comforting lullaby.
Karen pulls the blankets up,
tucking them around his small
form.

"Thank you," Plankton mumbles.
Sponge Bob's smile is warm
and reassuring. "You're welcome,
buddy," he says, his voice low.
"Sleep tight." 

Karen watches the scene
with affection. "I'll
be right outside if you need
anything," she whispers.
Plankton's antennas twitch,
his eye opening slightly. "I
lo-ove you.." "We love you too,
Plankton," he says, his voice
cracking with emotion. He
smiles at Karen, who nods
in understanding before they 
slip out of the room, letting him
sleep.

new karen and the autistic journey moviecore ix

KAREN AND THE AUTISTIC JOURNEY ii
(Autistic author)

The next morning, Karen woke up to
find Plankton still asleep, his hand
still clutching hers. She gently
pulled her hand away and stood up.

Plankton's snores echoed 
through the quiet room. Karen 
studied his peaceful expression, his 
features softer in sleep, and felt a
surge of affection for the man she
had married so many years ago.

In the cold light of day, the reality
of his condition settled in. 
He was different, but she 
would not let that change the way
she saw him. As a robot, Karen
understood the importance of
adjusting to new situations, and
this was no exception.

As Plankton stirred, she quickly
moved to his side, ready to face
whatever challenges the day 
might bring. His eye opened,
looking around the room
before settling on her.

"Karen," he said, his voice
still flat, but with a hint of
recognition.

"Good morning, Plankton," she
replied.
This was their first day facing
his autism together, and she had
spent the night
preparing.

Plankton sat up, his eye
locking onto hers. "Morning," he
repeated. His movements were
slow, deliberate, as if his brain
was processing each action. "Would
you like some breakfast?" she asked.

He nodded.
"No vault," he murmured, and she
could see the beginnings of a frown.
Karen nodded, knowing that
his obsessions might become more
pronounced. "It's okay," she said.
"We don't need the vault."

Plankton's eye searched her face,
his expression unreadable. "No
vault," he repeated, his voice
rising slightly. "Good."

Karen nodded. "Let's start the
day," she suggested, trying to
shift the focus. She led him to the
tiny kitchen area, the smell of
chum wafting through the air.

Plankton followed her, his steps
measured and precise. His gaze
flitted around the room, taking
in every detail. 

"Would you like eggs or chum?"
she asked.
"Both," he said, his voice clearer 
than before.

Karen nodded, cracking an egg
over the sizzling pan. Plankton sat
at the table, rocking back and forth
slightly. It was clear that
his senses were heightened, every
sound and smell more intense than
before.

"Here's your breakfast, Plankton,"
she said, placing the plate in front
of him. His gaze fixated on the
food, his eye narrowing as if
studying a complex puzzle. "Thank
you," he said, the words coming out
mechanically.

But as Karen stirred the chum and
eggs together, something shifted in
his demeanor. He stiffened in his
chair, his rocking coming to an
abrupt halt. "What's wrong?" she
asked, noticing the sudden change.

Plankton's eye grew wide. "No," he
whispered, his voice strained. "Not
together. Separate," he
demanded, his voice growing more
urgent.

Karen paused, her circuits racing.
"I'm sorry," she said gently. "I'll
fix it." She carefully scraped the
food onto two separate places, one
with egg, one with chum. She placed
it in front of him, hoping she
was interpreting his needs correctly.

Plankton stared. "Different plate,"
he murmured. "And a new spoon.
And new eggs not touching new chum."

Karen nodded, quickly moving to
comply with his requests. She knew
that routines and sensory preferences
could be crucial for individuals with
autism, and she wanted to make sure
his first breakfast post-diagnosis was
as comfortable as possible. She
replicated his meal with meticulous
precision, ensuring every detail was
exactly as he had specified, ridding of
the old food.

The new plate was set before him,
the eggs and chum neatly separated.
Plankton's shoulders relaxed slightly.
He picked up the spoon, his gaze
intensely focused on the task at
hand. Karen watched as he took a
tiny bite in what seemed like pleasure.

"Good?" she ventured.

Plankton nodded, his eye not
leaving the plate. "Good," he echoed,
his voice still monotone.

Karen observed him as he
methodically ate his breakfast,
each bite the same size, each chew
lasting the same amount of time.
It was fascinating and slightly
disconcerting to watch the man
she knew so well now engaging with
the world in such a different way.

Plankton's routine was always
important, but now it had taken
on a new level of significance.
The clink of the spoon against the
plate was the only sound in the
room, the rhythm of it almost
hypnotic. 

As Plankton finished his meal,
his head snapped up, his gaze
sharp and focused on her. "Karen,"
he said, his voice now clear and
concise.

"Yes, Plankton?" she replied,
wiping down the counter.

"Thank you," he said, his eye
fixed on the now-empty
plate.

Karen nodded, taking the
dishes to the sink. She could feel
his eye on her as she moved about
the room, the weight of his
silence a stark contrast to his
usual incessant chatter. She knew
that autism would bring
challenges, but she was
determined to be there for him.

new karen and the autistic journey breakfastcore ii

KAREN AND THE AUTISTIC JOURNEY vii
(Autistic author)

Sponge Bob's mind is racing,
his heart thumping in his chest.
He had never seen Plankton like
this, and the sudden change
was unnerving. "What happened
to make you so..." he asks,
his voice laced with curiosity.

Plankton's smile broadens, his
hands continuing their flapping
dance. "Good book," he repeats.
"Best friend." He pats the bed
again, his gesture urging Sponge
Bob to sit closer.

Sponge Bob does, his gaze
still locked on Plankton's.

"But what happened?" he
presses, his voice filled with
concern. "You've never been
this... this... affectionate
before."

Plankton's hands stop
their flapping, his antennas
drooping slightly. "Just happy."

Sponge Bob's eyes search
his friend's, his concern
growing with each repetition.
"But Plankton, what's really
going on?" he asks, his voice
filled with urgency. "You've
never talked like this before."

Plankton's smile wavers,
his hand reaching for the book.
"Read," he says, his voice a
monotone. "Happy book."

Sponge Bob's eyes dart
between Plankton's and the
complex text before him.
"But Plankton, I don't
know what this means."

Plankton's smile fades, his
hands stilled. He looks at
Sponge Bob with an unblinking
stare, his mind racing. "Friend,"
he says, his voice flat. "Best
friend." His gaze drops to
the book, then back to
Sponge Bob's face. "Read," he
instructs, his tone firm.

Sponge Bob's eyes widen, the
weight of Plankton's stare
heavy on his shoulders. He opens
the book to a random page.
"Ok," he says, his voice
shaking slightly. "I'll try."

He starts from the top, his
pronunciation awkward and stilted.
"Quantum Mechanics," he reads,
his eyes squinting at the text.
Sponge Bob's voice falters, the
complexity of the words tripping
his tongue. "Plankton, I don't
understand any of this," he says,
his voice filled with frustration.

Plankton's eye widen, his smile
fading. "Friend," he repeats,
his voice strained. "Best friend."
He grabs the book from Sponge
Bob's hands, his movements
suddenly frantic. "Read," he says,
his voice a mix of desperation
and joy. "Good book."

Sponge Bob's heart races as he
watches his friend's erratic
behavior. He knows something is
seriously off, but he's
not sure what. "Plankton What's
going on with you?"

Plankton's smile flickers back,
his hands stilling. He looks at
Sponge Bob, his gaze intense.
"Read," he repeats. "Best friend read."

Sponge Bob nods, his throat
tight. He tries again, his voice
more confident this time. "Quantum
Mechanics," he repeats.

Plankton's smile brightens, his
hands resuming their flutter.
"Good," he says, his voice a
monotone cheer. "Best friend."

Sponge Bob's heart aches with
concern, but he continues to
read, hoping to find some
comfort in the words for
his friend. "Quantum Entanglement,"
he murmurs, his eyes scanning
the page for any sign of
understanding.

Plankton's flapping grows more
intense, his body rocking back
and forth with excitement.

Sponge Bob's eyes widen as he
notices Plankton's erratic
behavior, but he keeps reading,
his voice steady and calm. "The
universe," he says, his eyes
skimming the page, "is a strange
and wondrous place."

Plankton's eye light up, his
hands flapping rapidly. "Wondrous
place," he echoes, his voice
mirroring Sponge Bob's. "Best friend."

Sponge Bob's eyes widen, his
spongy cheeks reddening. "You're
saying the same thing I just said,"
he points out, his voice filled with
confusion.

Plankton nods vigorously, his
hands fluttering in the air. "You're
saying same thing," he says, his
voice a cheerful mimic of Sponge
Bob's. "Wondrous place. Saying
the same thing just said.."

"Plankton," SpongeBob says, his
voice urgent. "What's going on
with you?"

Plankton's smile is wide, but
his gaze is distant, as if he's
somewhere else entirely. "You're
saying the same thing," he echoes
again, his hands flapping in a
rhythmic pattern that matches
his words.

Sponge Bob's eyes widen.
"Plankton," he says,
his voice strained. "You're just
repeating me." He pauses, trying
to gauge his friend's reaction.

Plankton nods, his smile
still in place. "Yes," he says,
his voice a copy of
Sponge Bob's. "You're repeating."
His hands flap with excitement.

Sponge Bob's concern grows,
his eyes searching Plankton's for
any sign of distress. "But why,
Plankton?" he asks, his voice
soft with worry.

Plankton's smile falters, his
hands stopping mid-flap. 
"But why?" he repeats, his voice
a perfect echo of Sponge Bob's.

"You're copying
me," he says. "Why are
you copying everything I say?"

Plankton's eye refocus on
Sponge Bob's face, his smile
returning. "You're copying me
why are you copying everything 
I say." Plankton echoed.

Sponge Bob's trying to find a
reason behind the behavior.
"I'm asking you what's going on!"

Plankton nods, his antennae
waving slightly. "SpongeBob asking
me what's going on," he mimics.

Sponge Bob's eyes widen, his
heart racing. "Plankton,"
he says, his voice filled with
urgency. "This isn't funny. What's
really happening?" "This isn't
funny," he echoes Sponge Bob's
tone. "What's happening?"

Sponge Bob's heart sinks.
"Plankton," he says, his voice
shaking. "What's wrong with you?"

Plankton's eye locked
on Sponge Bob's. "Wrong with
Plankton," he echoes. "What's wrong?"

Sponge Bob's voice trembles
as he speaks. "You're not acting
like yourself," he says, his heart
pounding. "You're just repeating
everything I say."

"You're repeating everything
I say," he says, his voice a
mirror.

"Plankton," he says, his
voice shaking. "Please, tell
me what's going on."

"Please tell me what's
going on," he repeats, his voice
a perfect match to Sponge
Bob's. "You tell me."

Sponge Bob's eyes are
filled with a mix of fear and
desperation. "But, Plankton,"
he says, his voice trembling.
"You're just repeating everything
I say." He takes a deep breath,
his mind racing to understand
his friend's sudden change.

Plankton's smile is unwavering,
his hands still fluttering. "You're
just repeating everything," he echoes.
"I say." His voice is calm,
his movements methodical.

Sponge Bob's eyes fill with tears,
his heart breaking at the sight
of his friend. "Please,
Plankton," he begs, his voice
cracking with anger.

But Plankton's response is
only more of the same, his words a
perfect echo of Sponge Bob's plea.
"Please, Plankton," he repeats,
his voice a mirror of pain. "Please.."

"This isn't right,"
he says, his voice filled with
frustration. "You're not acting
normal."

Plankton's smile falters for a
moment, his hands stilling. "Not
normal," he repeats, his voice a
hollow echo. "You not acting
right."

Sponge Bob's frustration boils
over. "I'm not the one who's
changed!" he exclaims, his voice
loud. "You're the one who's
been acting weird and repeating
everything I say!"

"You're the one
who's changed," he echoes, his voice
still calm. "Weird. Repeating."

Sponge Bob's anger flares, his
spongy fists clenching. "No, Plankton!"
he says, his voice rising. "You're the one
who's different! You're not the same
as before!"

Plankton's smile fades, his hands
coming to a halt. His gaze meets
Sponge Bob's with a flicker of
understanding. "Different," he says,
his voice a flat echo. "Not same."

Sponge Bob's anger turns to
desperation. "What happened to
you?" he asks, his voice cracking.
"Why are you doing this?"

Plankton's gaze is
unyielding, his smile a forced
imitation of happiness. "You
doing this," he repeats, his voice
a monotone.

Sponge Bob's eyes fill
with anger. "What are you
talking about?" he demands, his
hands clenching into fists. "I
haven't done anything!"

Plankton's smile flickers,
his gaze dropping to his book.
"You haven't done anything," he
echoes, his voice a mirror of
Sponge Bob's anger. "I have."

Sponge Bob's eyes narrow, his
confusion turning to anger. "What
are you saying?" he asks, his voice
sharp.

Plankton's hands resuming their flapping. "I
have book," he says, his voice
calmer. "Good book. Happy book."

Sponge Bob's anger dissipates,
his confusion deepening. "But
Plankton," he says, his voice gentle.
"What's the book got to do with
anything?"

"Book," he repeats, his voice
a monotone chant. "Book, book."

Sponge Bob's confusion turns
to anger, his eyes narrowing.
"What is it with this book?"
he demands, his voice tight.
"What's so special about it?"

Plankton's smile flickers,
his hands pausing in their
flapping. "You and book," he says,
his voice a monotone whisper.
"Makes Plankton happy."

SpongeBob grabs Plankton's
wrists to stop the flapping,
making Plankton finally stop
his repetitive chanting.
"What's gotten into you?"
Sponge Bob asks, his voice
shaking with anger and concern.
"Are you just messing with me?"
Plankton's smile fades,
his antennas drooping. "No mess,"
he says, his voice a sad echo.
He tries to pull
his hands free, but Sponge Bob's
grip tightens.

Sponge Bob's eyes bore into
his friend's, searching for
anything that might explain
this strange behavior. "Then what
is it, Plankton?" he asks,
his voice a mix of anger
and fear. "What's going on?"

Plankton's gaze flickers with
a hint of sadness.

"Accident," he whispers, his
voice a hollow echo,
his body tense.

new karen and the autistic journey echolalia palilalia vii

Tʜᴇ Aᴄᴄɪᴅᴇɴᴛ
(SᴘᴏɴɢᴇBᴏʙ ғᴀɴғɪᴄ) 
Mʀ. Kʀᴀʙs ᴍᴏʟᴅᴇᴅ ʜɪs sʜᴇʟʟ, ᴀɴᴅ ɪᴛ ɢʀᴇᴡ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ɴᴏʀᴍᴀʟ.
Hᴏᴡᴇᴠᴇʀ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏʟᴅᴇᴅ sʜᴇʟʟ ʀᴇᴍᴀɪɴs ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴅɪsᴄᴏᴠᴇʀᴇᴅ
ғᴀᴄᴇ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ʙʏ Pʟᴀɴᴋᴛᴏɴ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ɢᴏᴏ ʟᴀɢᴏᴏɴ ʙᴇᴀᴄʜ.
"Kʀᴀʙs?" Pʟᴀɴᴋᴛᴏɴ sᴀᴡ ʜɪs ʟɪғᴇʟᴇss sʜᴇʟʟ ᴏᴜᴛʟɪɴᴇ ʙᴇ sᴡᴇᴘᴛ
ᴀᴡᴀʏ ʙʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴄᴇᴀɴ ᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛ, sʟᴀᴍᴍɪɴɢ ᴀɢᴀɪɴsᴛ ᴀ ʀᴏᴄᴋ ɪɴ
ᴛᴏ ᴘɪᴇᴄᴇs. Oғ ᴄᴏᴜʀsᴇ, Pʟᴀɴᴋᴛᴏɴ's ɴᴏ ᴋɴᴏᴡʟᴇᴅɢᴇ ᴏғ ᴍᴏʟᴅɪɴɢ.
"Eᴜɢᴇɴᴇ! Iғ I'ᴅ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ sᴏᴏɴᴇʀ, ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ..." ʏᴏᴜ sᴇᴇ
Pʟᴀɴᴋᴛᴏɴ ᴜsᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ғʀɪᴇɴᴅs ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜɪᴍ ᴀs ᴀ sᴄʜᴏᴏʟʙᴏʏ
ʙᴜᴛ ᴊᴇᴀʟᴏᴜs ᴇɴᴠʏ ʀᴜɪɴᴇᴅ ɪᴛ. Nᴏʀᴍᴀʟʟʏ, ᴀ sᴇᴛʙᴀᴄᴋ ғᴏʀ
Kʀᴀʙs ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ Pʟᴀɴᴋᴛᴏɴ ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ, ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ
ᴜsɪɴɢ ɪᴛ ᴛᴏ ʜɪs ᴀᴅᴠᴀɴᴛᴀɢᴇ. "I ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ
ᴀs ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ɢᴏɴᴇ?"
Pʟᴀɴᴋᴛᴏɴ ᴋɴᴇʟᴛ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ɪɴ ᴛᴇᴀʀs. "I ᴄᴀᴍᴇ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴛᴏ 
ʜᴀᴠᴇ sᴏᴍᴇ sᴘᴀᴄᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ᴜᴘ ᴀ sᴄʜᴇᴍᴇ..." Mʀ.
Kʀᴀʙs, ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏғ sɪɢʜᴛ, sᴀᴡ ʙɪᴛs ᴏғ ʜɪs sʜᴇʟʟ 
ᴡɪᴛʜ Pʟᴀɴᴋᴛᴏɴ ɪɴ ᴇᴀʀsʜᴏᴛ.
"I ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴡᴇ'ᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴀᴛ ɪᴛ...
I ᴊᴜsᴛ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴡɪsʜᴇᴅ sᴜᴄʜ ᴀ ᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴ!" 
Mʀ. Kʀᴀʙs ʟᴇғᴛ ᴄᴏɴғʟɪᴄᴛᴇᴅ.
Rᴇᴛᴜʀɴɪɴɢ, Pʟᴀɴᴋᴛᴏɴ ᴛʀɪᴇᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ɢʟᴀɴᴄᴇ ᴀᴛ
ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇsᴛᴀᴜʀᴀɴᴛ ᴀᴄʀᴏss ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴏᴀᴅ. "Sʜᴇʟᴅᴏɴ, ʏᴏᴜ'ᴠᴇ
ʙᴇᴇɴ ɢᴏɴᴇ ғᴏʀ sᴜᴄʜ ᴀ ʟᴏɴɢ ᴛɪᴍᴇ..." Kᴀʀᴇɴ ɴᴏᴛɪᴄᴇᴅ
Pʟᴀɴᴋᴛᴏɴ ʟᴏᴏᴋɪɴɢ sᴀᴅ. "ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ᴛᴀʟᴋ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ 
ᴏɴᴄᴇ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅʏ..." "I ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ
ᴘʀᴏᴄᴇss sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴘᴇʀʜᴀᴘs ʟᴀᴛᴇʀ."
Pʟᴀɴᴋᴛᴏɴ ᴡᴀs ᴜᴘ ᴀʟʟ ɴɪɢʜᴛ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡʟᴇᴅɢᴇ ᴏғ ʙᴇɪɴɢ
ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴏɴᴇ ᴛᴏ sᴇᴇ ᴛʜᴇ sʜᴇʟʟ ᴄʀᴀsʜ ᴀɢᴀɪɴsᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏᴜʟᴅᴇʀ.
"I'ᴍ ɢᴏɴɴᴀ ɢᴏ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇᴀᴄʜ..." Pʟᴀɴᴋᴛᴏɴ ᴛᴏʟᴅ
Kᴀʀᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴇxᴛ ᴍᴏʀɴɪɴɢ. "Pᴇʀʜᴀᴘs sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴏᴄᴄᴜʀʀᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ
Kʀᴀʙs..." Kᴀʀᴇɴ ᴡᴇɴᴛ ᴛᴏ Mʀ. Kʀᴀʙs ᴛᴏ sᴇᴇ ɪғ ʜᴇ'ᴅ ᴋɴᴏᴡ...
"I ᴍᴏʟᴅ ᴍᴇ sʜᴇʟʟ..." Mʀ. Kʀᴀʙs ᴇxᴘʟᴀɪɴᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ Kᴀʀᴇɴ ᴀs ʜᴇ
ᴘʀᴏᴄᴇᴇᴅᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴇʟʟ ʜᴇʀ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʜᴇ ᴡɪᴛɴᴇssᴇᴅ. "Hᴇ ᴡᴇɴᴛ ᴛᴏ
ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇᴀᴄʜ..." "I'ʟʟ ɢᴏ sᴇᴇ ᴛᴏ ʜɪᴍ." Mʀ. Kʀᴀʙs sᴀɪᴅ.
Kʀᴀʙs ᴀʀʀɪᴠᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ғɪɴᴅ Pʟᴀɴᴋᴛᴏɴ
ᴘᴜᴛᴛɪɴɢ ғʟᴏᴡᴇʀs ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴄᴇᴀɴ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʀᴀsʜ
ᴡᴇɴᴛ ᴅᴏᴡɴ. Lᴀʀʀʏ ᴛʜᴇ Lᴏʙsᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇɴ ᴀʀʀɪᴠᴇᴅ ʜɪs sʜɪғᴛ
ᴀs ᴀ ʟɪғᴇɢᴜᴀʀᴅ. Wʜɪʟsᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴡᴏ ɢʀᴇᴇᴛᴇᴅ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ
Pʟᴀɴᴋᴛᴏɴ ᴡᴀs ʜɪᴛ ʙʏ ᴀ ᴡᴀᴠᴇ, ʀᴇɴᴅᴇʀᴇᴅ ʜᴇʟᴘʟᴇss.
Kʀᴀʙs sᴀᴡ ʜɪᴍ ɢᴇᴛ ᴛʀᴀᴘᴘᴇᴅ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛ. "Sʜᴇʟᴅᴏɴ..." 
Aғᴛᴇʀ sᴇᴇɪɴɢ Mʀ. Kʀᴀʙs ᴘᴏɪɴᴛ ᴏᴜᴛ
Lᴀʀʀʏ ᴅɪᴠᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀᴛᴇʀ sᴀᴠɪɴɢ
Pʟᴀɴᴋᴛᴏɴ ғʀᴏᴍ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ʟᴏsᴛ ᴀᴛ sᴇᴀ.
Hᴏᴡᴇᴠᴇʀ, Pʟᴀɴᴋᴛᴏɴ ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴀᴋᴇ ᴜᴘ
ғᴏʀ Lᴀʀʀʏ. "I'ᴠᴇ ᴅᴏɴᴇ ᴀʟʟ I ᴄᴀɴ..." Lᴀʀʀʏ sᴀɪᴅ.
"I'ʟʟ ᴄᴀʟʟ Sᴀɴᴅʏ!" Mʀ. Kʀᴀʙs sᴀɪᴅ
ᴋɴᴏᴡɪɴɢ sʜᴇ ʜᴀᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡʟᴇᴅɢᴇ
ᴛᴏ ᴘᴏssɪʙʟʏ ʜᴇʟᴘ. Sᴀɴᴅʏ ᴄᴀᴍᴇ
ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴀʟʟᴇᴅ Kᴀʀᴇɴ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀʏ.
Kᴀʀᴇɴ sᴄᴀɴɴᴇᴅ ʜɪᴍ ғᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ɪɴᴛᴇʀɴᴀʟ
ᴅᴀᴍᴀɢᴇ ᴀs sᴀɴᴅʏ ᴛʀɪᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴠɪᴠᴇ ʜɪᴍ.
"I ғᴏᴜɴᴅ ʜɪs ʟᴇɢ ʜɪᴛ ᴀɢᴀɪɴsᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴏᴄᴋ
ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴇɴᴏᴜɢʜ ғᴏʀᴄᴇ ᴛᴏ ғʀᴀᴄᴛᴜʀᴇ...
Gᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ʙᴀɴᴅᴀɢᴇs, ᴛʜᴇʏ ʟᴇᴛ Kʀᴀʙs
ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴀʟᴏɴᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜɪᴍ
ᴊᴜsᴛ ɪɴ ᴄᴀsᴇ...
Aғᴛᴇʀ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴄᴏʟᴅ, Pʟᴀɴᴋᴛᴏɴ ᴡᴀs sʜᴏᴡɪɴɢ sɪɢɴs
ᴏғ ʀᴇᴄᴏᴠᴇʀʏ. ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢ ʙᴏᴍʙᴀʀᴅᴇᴅ, ʜᴇ ᴛʀɪᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴏᴠᴇ
ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴘᴀɪɴ ᴏᴠᴇʀᴡʜᴇʟᴍᴇᴅ ʜɪᴍ. "Eʜ... " 
"Rᴇᴀᴅʏ ᴛᴏ ɢᴏ ʜᴏᴍᴇ?" Kᴀʀᴇɴ
ᴛᴏᴏᴋ ʜɪᴍ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʜᴜᴍ ʙᴜᴄᴋᴇᴛ.
Kᴀʀᴇɴ ʜᴇʟᴘᴇᴅ sᴛɪʟʟ ᴅɪsᴄᴏɴᴄᴇʀᴛᴇᴅ 
Pʟᴀɴᴋᴛᴏɴ ɪɴ ᴛᴏ sᴇᴀᴛ. "Kʀᴀʙs ᴍᴏʟᴅᴇᴅ 
ʜɪs sʜᴇʟʟ; ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴜsᴛ
ʜᴀᴠᴇ sᴇᴇɴ ᴡᴀs ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʜᴇ sʜᴇᴅ..."
Kᴀʀᴇɴ ᴇxᴘʟᴀɪɴᴇᴅ, ʟᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ Sᴘᴏᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴇᴛ ᴀᴍᴏᴇʙᴀ
ᴘᴜᴘᴘʏ sᴛᴀʏ ʙʏ ʜɪᴍ.
"Is ʜᴇ ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢ ᴀɴʏ ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ?" Asᴋᴇᴅ Kʀᴀʙs
ᴠɪsɪᴛɪɴɢ ʜɪᴍ ᴛʜᴇ sᴀᴍᴇ ᴀғᴛᴇʀɴᴏᴏɴ.
Pʟᴀɴᴋᴛᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ Sᴘᴏᴛ ᴡᴇʀᴇ sᴛɪʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ
ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴡᴇʀᴇ, ɢᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ʀᴇsᴛ. "Sᴏᴜɴᴅs ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇʏ
ᴍᴜsᴛ'ᴠᴇ ᴅᴏᴢᴇᴅ..." Kᴀʀᴇɴ ᴏʙsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ
ʜᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏ̨ᴜɪᴇᴛ sᴛᴇʀᴛᴏʀs ᴏғ ʜᴇʀ
ʜᴜsʙᴀɴᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀᴍᴏᴇʙᴀ ᴘᴜᴘᴘʏ.
Mʀ. Kʀᴀʙs sᴀᴡ Pʟᴀɴᴋᴛᴏɴ's ᴀʀᴍ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ
Sᴘᴏᴛ, ʟᴇɢ ᴇʟᴇᴠᴀᴛᴇᴅ. "I'ᴠᴇ ʙʀᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ᴀ ɢɪғᴛ
ғᴏʀ Pʟᴀɴᴋᴛᴏɴ..." Kᴀʀᴇɴ ᴡᴀs ʜᴀɴᴅᴇᴅ ᴀ
Kʀᴀʙʙʏ Pᴀᴛᴛʏ. "Iᴛ's ғᴏʀ Pʟᴀɴᴋᴛᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ
ᴀɴᴅ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ, sᴀᴠᴇ ɪᴛ ғᴏʀ ʜɪᴍ..." Mʀ. Kʀᴀʙs
ᴡᴀs ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ ᴛᴏ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ʜɪᴍ ᴡɪᴛʜ ɪᴛ.

new krankaren planktkarrabs sandarenton planktarendy plabscore plabsen the accident

ᵀᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᶜᵃʳᵉ ᵒᶠ ᴮᵘˢⁱⁿᵉˢˢ
⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾
ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵖᵃᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ʰᵉʳ ᵗʳⁱᵖ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡⁱᵐᵖᵉᵈ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵃ
ᶠᵃⁱˡᵘʳᵉ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ‧ ᴷⁿᵉᵉ ᵇᵘᶜᵏˡⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱⁿʲᵘʳᵉᵈ ˡᵉᵍ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ
ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ⁱᵗ ʷᵒʳˢᵉ‧ "ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ‧‧‧" "ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ; ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗʳⁱᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵐᵉ ᵇʸ
ᵘˢⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ˡᵉᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵏⁱᶜᵏ ᵐⁱⁿᵉ ʰᵃʳᵈ‧ ᴵᵗ'ˢ ᵗʰʳᵒᵇᵇⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵘʳᵗ‧‧‧" "ᴵ
ᶜᵃⁿ ᶜᵃˡˡ ᵐʸ ˢᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵍᵃˡ ᵖᵃˡ ᵗᵒ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘ; ᴵ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᵍᵒ!" ᔆᵃⁱᵈ
ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵃˡˢ ʰᵉʳ‧ ᴼⁿᶜᵉ ˢᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵃʳʳⁱᵛᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ
ᔆʰᵉ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ʰᵉʳ ᵗʳⁱᵖ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵗᵉˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ‧
"ᵀʰⁱⁿᵏ ᵒᶠ ᵐᵉ ᵃˢ ᵃ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵃ ᵇᵃᵇʸˢⁱᵗᵗᵉʳ‧‧‧" ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵗᵒˡᵈ
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷʰᵒ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘᶜʰ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ʰᵉˡᵖ
ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ‧‧" ˢᵃⁿᵈʸ ˢᵃʷ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗʳʸ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵒᵛᵉ ᵇᵘᵗ ʷᵃˢ ʰᵘʳᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ
ᵐᵘᶜʰ‧ "ᵁʳᵍʰ!" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ʳᵉˢᵗ! ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵐᵉ
ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵃʳᵉˡʸ ᵐᵒᵛᵉ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘʳ ˡᵉᵍ ⁱˢ ᵗᵒ ʷᵉᵃᵏ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ
ˢᵉᵉ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᶠʳᵘˢᵗʳᵃᵗᵉᵈ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁱᵗ ʰᵃˢⁿ'ᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵗʳᵉⁿᵍᵗʰ ʸᵉᵗ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵐᵒʳᵉ
ʸᵒᵘ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉᵃˡ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ᑫᵘⁱᶜᵏᵉʳ ʷⁱˡˡ ʰᵉᵃˡ!" ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᶠˡᵘᶠᶠᵉᵈ ᵃ
ᵖⁱˡˡᵒʷ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉˢᵗ ⁱᵗ ᵒⁿ‧ ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵉᵍ ᵖᵃⁱⁿᶠᵘˡˡʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᔆʰᵃᵏᵉʸ
ᵖᵘᵗ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖⁱˡˡᵒʷ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠʳᵒⁿᵗ ᵈᵒᵒʳ ᵒᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ‧ "ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵍᵉᵗ ⁱᵗ‧‧‧" ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ
ᵒᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵒᵐⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ‧ "ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ ᵒⁿ
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖᵉʳʰᵃᵖˢ ˢᵗᵃʸ ᵃ‧‧‧" "ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ˢᵉᵉ ʰⁱᵐ!" ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ˡᵉᵃᵈˢ
ᵗᵒ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ᶜᵒᵘᶜʰ‧ "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵃⁿ
ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʸᵒᵘ!" ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵇʳᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵇʸ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘᶜʰ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ‧‧"
"ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠᵃᵘˡᵗ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧
"ᔆᵉᵉᵐˢ ˢᵒʳᵉ‧‧‧" ᔆᵃⁱᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵃᵗ ⁱᵗ
ˢᵃᵈˡʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢⁱᵍʰᵉᵈ‧ "ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵒʳ ᵖᵉʳʰᵃᵖˢ
ᵖˡᵃʸ ᵃ ᵇᵒᵃʳᵈ ᵍᵃᵐᵉ?" "ᴵ'ᵈ ᵖˡᵃʸ ᶜᵃʳᵈˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ'ᵈ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ʰᵉˡᵖ‧‧‧" "ᴵ'ˡˡ ʰᵉˡᵖ
ʸᵒᵘ ᴵ ʰᵒˡᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵃʳᵈˢ‧‧" ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳʲᵉᶜᵗᵉᵈ‧ "ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗᵃᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵐᵉ
ᵖˡᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ᶜᵃʳᵈˢ ˢᵒ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵒⁿ!" ᴬⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵈⁱᵈ‧ @ALYJACI

new plankdy planktarendy sandarenton shelbob playcore injuryposting legcore karennktonndy taking care of business

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

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

TRUTH AND NAIL iv

His eye flickered open again,
his gaze unfocused. "Wha?"
he mumbled, his voice
slurred. "Home?"

Karen nodded, her smile
a beacon in the dark.
"Almost," she said, her voice
like a gentle breeze.

Plankton's eyelid fluttered,
his mind a foggy haze.
"Home...?" he slurred, his voice
barely a whisper.

"Almost, darling," Karen
reassured him, her voice
soothing as the car's gentle
purr. His eye rolled back,
lid heavy with sleep.

The nurse had warned
her about this, the anesthesia
leaving him groggy and
disoriented. But the sight
of him, drooling and
slumped over, was still
a bit foreign.

"Home, soon," Karen
soothed, her voice a
whisper in the quiet
car. "Just stay awake."

But Plankton's eye
closed again, his head
lolling back. His snores
were the only sound
in the car, a steady
counterpoint to the
hum of the engine.

"What's your favorite
color, Plankton?" she
asked, trying to keep
his thoughts afloat.
His eye blinked slowly,
his gaze unfocused.
"Buh...blu?" he murmured,
his voice a faint echo.

Karen's smile grew
wider, full
of love and amusement.
"Good boy," she whispered,
patting his hand. "Stay with me."

But Plankton's eyelid
were heavy, his mind
a swirl of confusion
and exhaustion. His
head fell back again,
his snores a rhythmic
accompaniment to the
hum of the car.

"Stay with me, love,"
Karen coaxed, her voice
a soft lullaby in the
silence of the night.
His chest rose and fell
with each snore, his
body relaxed.

Plankton's head jerked
upwards with a snort,
his eye wide for a moment
before the sleep
dragged it shut again.
"Home?" he murmured, his
voice thick with sleep.

Karen's eyes never left
the road ahead, her
grip tight on the steering
wheel. "Almost, darling,"
she said, her voice a
comforting purr. "Just stay
with me a bit longer."

But Plankton's body had
other plans. With a
snort, he slumped over
again, his head bouncing
on the headrest like a rag
doll's. Karen knew he
was okay. Just...out of it.

"Plankton, stay awake,"
she urged, her voice a soft
caress in the darkness.
But his snores grew
louder, his breathing deep
and even.

"Wha...?" Plankton's
head jerked up, his eye
widening in surprise. "Where
am I?"

Karen glanced in the
rearview mirror, her smile
tight. "You're in the car,
sweetie. We're almost home."
Her voice was a soft
reminder of reality,
but his mind was still
swimming in a sea of
anesthesia.

"Home?" Plankton slurred,
his voice a faint echo.
His head lolled to the side,
his eye trying to focus
on the passing streetlights.

"Almost," Karen said, her
voice a soft whisper.
"Just stay with me."

But Plankton's eye
closed again, his snores
filling the car. Karen
sighed, her grip tightening
on the steering wheel.
This was going to be a
long night..

new truth and nail tripcore iv

NEW REALITY iv
(Autistic author)

"Plankton," she starts, her voice
shaking, "the explosion changed
your brain. It's called Autism." 
His eye widens slightly
as he takes in the words, his hand
still moving in its repetitive pattern.

He repeats the word, "Autism?"
his tone curious. Karen nods,
wiping her screen. "It's like... your brain
now sees and feels things differently.
It's okay," she adds quickly, trying
to reassure him. "It's just different."

Plankton seems to consider this,
his hand finally still. "Different," 
he whispers.

Karen nods, trying to smile through
her tears. "But we'll get through
this together," she says, her voice
shaking. "We're a team."

Plankton's gaze lingers on her face
for a moment before returning to the
fan. "Team," he echoes, his hand
stilling briefly before resuming
its wave-like motion. Karen
swallows hard, trying to keep her
composure. She needs to find a way
to connect with him, to bridge
the gap that seems to be growing
wider by the second. She brings
his hand to her cheek. "Do you feel that?"
she asks, her voice a soft whisper.

He nods, his hand feeling cold
against her skin. "Feel," he says,
his tone flat. "Karen warm."

Encouraged, Karen tries a gentle
squeeze of his hand. His gaze
doesn't waver from the fan,
but his grip tightens slightly. "Squeeze,"
he murmurs, his voice a monotone.

Her heart racing, Karen decides to
experiment with different types of
affectionate touches. She strokes
his antennae lightly, watching
his reaction. His eye flutters
closed for a moment, then opens
again. "Tickle," he says, his voice a
little more animated.

Encouraged, she gently traces
his back with her fingers. "Yes
good." He says.

Karen's eyes fill with tears
as she feels a glimmer of hope.
"I'm going to try some more
things, okay?"
Plankton nods, his gaze
still on the fan. "More," he 
agrees.

Karen takes a deep breath
and starts with a soft
caress of his cheek, the way
she used to do before they
went to sleep. His eye
flickers slightly, his hand
continuing its motion.
"Okay," he says, his voice
almost a whisper.

Next, she tries a gentle
kiss on his forehead. "Karen,
nice," he murmurs, his antennae
twitching.

Encouraged, she decides to
move to a different type of
pressure.

"How's this feel; good 
or bad?" Karen
asks, placing her 
hand firmly
on his shoulder when
he suddenly flinches
and pulls away.

"No," Plankton says,
his voice sharp. "To hard."

Karen's hand recoils, her
heart racing. She tries to
keep her voice steady.
"I'm sorry, Plankton. Let's try
something else."
Plankton nods, his gaze
unfocused. "Yes, Karen. Try."

Gently, she starts to rub
his back in small, soothing
circles. "How about this?"
she asks, her voice tentative.
Plankton's body relaxes slightly.
"Good," he murmurs.

Encouraged, she tries
a gentle pat on his knee.
"This?"
"Stop," he says.

Karen's hand
freezes mid-air, her heart
racing. "I'm sorry, did I do that
wrong?"

Plankton's gaze remains fixed
on the fan. "Wrong," he confirms,
his voice a monotone.

Karen's face falls, her heart
sinking. She's treading on
thin ice, not knowing what
will trigger his next reaction.
She takes a deep breath, trying
to think of a safe approach.

"How about a hug?" she asks,
slowly opening her arms. Plankton
nods, his gaze still on the fan.
He leans into her embrace, his
body stiff at first, but gradually
softening. "Karen," he murmurs,
his voice a little less flat. Karen
holds him tightly, her heart pounding.
Maybe this is the way to reach
him, through physical affection
that doesn't overstimulate.
She squeezes tighter. "Enough!"
Plankton pulls away, his eye
wide with anxiety. Karen's heart
drops. She'd pushed too hard, too
soon. "I'm sorry," she whispers,
backing off immediately.

She tries again, placing a
hand lightly on his arm. "How
does this feel?" His eye flicks
to her hand, then back to the fan.
"Okay," he says, his voice still
mechanical. Karen keeps her hand
there, willing him to look at her,
to respond more naturally. But
his gaze remains fixed on the
spinning blades.

Despite her fear of pushing too
far, she gently takes his hand
in hers. "Does this feel okay?"
she asks. Plankton nods, his
movements becoming less erratic.
"Yes," he murmurs, his hand
still in the same wave pattern.

Karen decides to keep trying,
moving her thumb in small circles
on the back of his palm. Plankton's
breath hitches, and she sees his pupil
dilate slightly. "This?" she asks.
He nods, a faint smile tugging
at the corner of his lips.

Encouraged, she switches to
interlocking her fingers with
his, feeling the coldness of
his grip. "And this?"
"Good," he says, his voice
a bit softer.

Karen tries a gentle squeeze,
his hand stilling under hers.
"Does this feel okay?"
Plankton nods, his smile
widening a fraction.

Her heart racing with hope,
she presses her cheek to his.
"How about this?" she whispers.
Plankton's antennae twitch,
his body momentarily still.
"Not now," he says, his voice
a bit more present.

Karen nods, her eyes stinging
with tears. "Okay," she says,
trying not to let her voice
crack. She'll keep trying.

Her hand moves to his shoulder,
squeezing gently. "What about this?"
Plankton's body tenses, his
eye flicking to her hand, then
back to the fan. "No," he says,
his voice a firm rejection.

Karen nods, her eyes never leaving
his. "I'm sorry," she whispers.
"I just want to help."

Plankton's hand resumes its
wave-like motion. "Help," he repeats.
"Karen help."

Karen nods, her eyes never
leaving his. "I will," she promises,
determined to find a way to
connect with him. She decides to
try a different approach, one that
might bypass his sensory overload.

"Plankton," she says softly, "Can you tell
me what you're thinking about?"

He nods, his hand still moving. "Fan. Spin. Like."

Karen's chest tightens, but she nods.
"Okay, Plankton. Let's talk about the fan."

He nods eagerly, his hand
stopping for a brief moment.
"Fan," he says, his voice clearer.
"Spin fast. Like."

Karen takes a deep
breath. "What do you like
about the fan spinning?"
she asks, hoping to engage him
in a conversation that doesn't
trigger his anxiety.

Plankton's hand starts moving
again, mimicking the fan's
rotation. "Spin," he says, his
voice still monotone. "Fast. Calm."

Karen's eyes widen as she
understands. "It calms you?"
she asks, her voice tentative.
He nods, his gaze finally
leaving the fan to meet hers.

"Yes," he says, a hint of emotion
seeping into his voice. "Calm."

Karen's mind races. If the
fan's spinning is calming him,
maybe there's something here to
build on. "Can you tell me
more about the calm?"

Plankton nods, his hand
mimicking the fan's movement.
"Inside, quiet," he murmurs,
his voice a bit softer.

Karen's eyes fill with
relief. "It's like white noise,
isn't it?" she suggests,
desperate to build a bridge
between their worlds.

Plankton's hand slows, his
eye focusing on hers. "It's
like white noise isn't it.."

Karen nods, hope blossoming
in her chest. "Exactly,
sweetie. It's like it helps
you focus, like it blocks out
the chaos."

Plankton's hand stops moving,
his antennae drooping slightly.
"Chaos," he whispers, his eye
flicking around the room.

Karen nods, her heart aching.
"Yes, sometimes the world can
be too much, can't it?"

Plankton nods, his gaze
still unfocused. "Too 
much," he agrees.
"Spinning fan, less chaos."

Karen's eyes well up with tears
as she realizes the gravity of
the situation. "I'm sorry,"
she says, her voice trembling.
"I never meant for this to happen."

Plankton nods, his gaze still
unfocused. "Not Karen's fault,"
he says, his voice a robotic
reassurance. "Invention go boom."

Karen's eyes fill with
gratitude, clinging to the
knowledge that he understands.
"I know, but I can't help
feeling responsible," she says,
wiping at her cheeks.

Plankton nods, his hand
starting to wave again. "Fan spin.
Calm. Like Karen."

Karen's heart skips a beat
at the mention of her name.
Maybe, just maybe, he's still in
there somewhere. "You know,
sweetie," she says, her voice
quivering with hope, "sometimes
people have different ways
of seeing things. Like you and
the fan. That's your special way
of finding peace."

Plankton nods, his gaze
finally leaving the fan to focus
on her. "Special," he repeats.
"Plankton special."

Karen smiles through her
tears. "Yes, you are," she says,
squeezing his hand gently. "And we'll
figure this out together."

Plankton nods, his hand still
moving. "Together," he echoes.

new new reality Karen / Sheldon J. Plankton iv

CHIP ON THE SHOULDERS iv
(By NeuroFabulous)


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

new chip on the shoulders Karen/Chip Plankton II iv

TOOTH AFTERNOON iv

The car’s engine hummed a
soothing tune, and Karen’s voice
was a gentle guide in the
background. “Almost home,
love. Just a few more minutes,”
she said, her screen never leaving
the road.

Plankton’s eye searched hers,
his mind a tangled mess of
half-formed thoughts. “Huh?”
he mumbled, his voice a
slurred echo.

Karen’s smile was a soft
guiding light. “We’re almost
home, Plankton. Just a bit
more, ok?” she said, her voice
a gentle reminder of the warmth
that awaited them.

Plankton’s eye searched hers,
his thoughts a jumble of confusion
and pain. “Home...moth...” he
managed, his words still a slurred
mess.

Karen’s smile was a warm
reassurance. “Yes, Plankton.
Home. Just a few minutes more,”
she said, her voice a gentle
reminder of the comfort that
was almost within reach.

“Moth...no...moth...no...”
his words made no sense.

Karen’s smile grew, her
eyes on the road ahead.
“Almost there, Plankton.
We’re just passing the park.
You can see the swings?”
she asked, her voice a gentle
reminder of the world outside.

Plankton’s gaze drifted to the
window, his eye searching
for familiar landmarks. “Swings...?”
his voice a sleepy question.

Karen nodded, pointing out
the car window. “Yes, Plankton.
The park. Remember, we come
here sometimes to walk?”

Plankton’s eye searched the
blur of green outside, his mind
trying to piece together the
puzzle of the world. “Walsh?”
he murmured, his speech still
slurred and slow.

Karen chuckled, her voice
a warm embrace. “Yes, sweetie.
We’ll walk in the park once
you’re all healed up, ok?” she
said, her eyes flickering to
his reflection in the rearview
mirror.

The car pulled into the
garage, the sudden darkness
a stark contrast to the bright
afternoon outside. Karen turned
to him, her smile a gentle
reminder of her presence.
“Alright, Plankton. We’re home.
Can you sit up for me?” she
asked, her voice a soft guide
back to reality.

Plankton’s movements were
slow, his body still fighting
against the anesthesia’s grip.
He nodded, his hand reaching
for the car door. Karen was
there in an instant, opening
it for him and helping him
to his feet. His legs felt like
jelly, and he leaned heavily on
her as they made their way
to the house.

The door creaked open, and
the familiar scents of home
wrapped around them like a
comforting blanket. Plankton’s
eye searched the room, his
mind grasping for any semblance
of normalcy.

Karen guided him to
their bedroom, the softness
of the bed calling to him like
a siren’s song. She helped
him lay down, his body
sinking into the mattress with
a sigh of relief. His eyelid grew heavy,
his thoughts drifting like
leaves on a lazy river.

Karen tucks him in. “Now, would
you like…”

But Plankton’s eye had
already drifted shut, his body
surrendering to the siren call
of sleep. His snores grew
steady and deep, the gauze in
his mouth muffling the sound.
Karen watched him. She knew the
recovery ahead would be long
and difficult, but she was
ready to face it with him.

With a soft sigh, she went to
the kitchen and retrieved
the chocolate chip cookie dough
ice cream. She placed it on the
nightstand, ready for when
his hunger would inevitably
wake him. She then gathered
his favorite pillow, propping it
under his head to elevate it
slightly, hoping to reduce any
swelling that might come.

The house was eerily quiet,
the only sounds being Plankton’s
soft snores and the occasional
tick of the grandfather clock
downstairs. Karen felt a pang
of loneliness in the absence
of their usual banter, but
she pushed it aside, focusing on
his recovery.

With tender care, she changed
his gauze, the blood slowly
seeping through a stark
reminder of the surgery. She
flinched at the sight, but
quickly composed herself. She
was his rock, his anchor in the
storm of pain and confusion.

She pulled the blanket
up to his chin. “Rest, love,” she
whispered.

Plankton’s hand reached out,
his movements slow and
deliberate. He found hers, his
fingers entwining with hers.
“Kareb?” he mumbled, his voice
a sleepy plea.

Karen’s smile was a soft
caress. “I’m right here,
Plankton. I’m not going anywhere,”
she assured him, her voice a gentle
reminder of her constant presence.

Plankton’s grip tightened slightly,
his eye flickering open. “Wheh...youw
shay...” he slurred, his words
a sleepy plea.

Karen leaned closer, her smile
a gentle promise. “What did
you say, sweetie?” she asked, her
voice a soft whisper in the
quiet room.

Plankton’s eye searched hers,
his grip on her hand growing
firm. “Youw shay...stay...stay whiff
me?” he murmured, his voice a
slurred tapestry of need.

Karen’s heart swelled with love.
“Of course, Plankton. I’ll…”

But her words were cut off by
his snores, his hand going limp
in hers. He was asleep again.

Karen sat in the chair beside
the bed, her hand still entwined
with his. She knew this was just
the beginning of a long road
ahead, but she was ready.

Plankton’s snores 
grew more rhythmic,
his sleep deepening 
with each passing minute.

Karen sat in the chair
beside the bed, her thoughts
a whirlwind of care and love.
Her eyes never left him,
a silent sentinel in the
quiet room. She knew he’d
have questions when he awoke,
confusion to navigate,
and pain to endure.

The ice cream called from
the nightstand, a sweet
temptation she knew he’d crave.
But for now, sleep was
his best medicine, his
body healing from the
invasion of surgery. She watched
his chest rise and fall,
each breath a testament
to his strength.

The hours ticked by, the
sun dipping below the
horizon and leaving a soft
glow in the room.
Plankton’s snores grew quieter,
his sleep more peaceful as
his body slowly metabolized
the lingering anesthesia. Karen’s
thoughts wandered to the days
ahead, planning his meals,
his pain relief, and the
moments of joy she’d weave
into his recovery.

The room grew darker, the
streetlights outside casting a
soft glow through the
curtains. Karen’s eyes grew
heavy with fatigue, but she
fought it off, knowing Plankton
would need her when he awoke.
Her thoughts drifted to their
first date, the way his laugh
lit up the room, the way his
hand felt in hers.

A sudden movement caught
her eye, and she turned to see
Plankton’s eye flutter open,
his gaze unfocused and lost.
“Karen?” he croaked, his voice
a dry whisper.

Her smile was a gentle
welcome back. “Hey there, sleepy.
How are you feeling?” she
asked, her voice a soft caress.

Plankton’s mouth moved, his
speech still slurred. “Moth...”
he murmured, his tongue thick.

Karen’s voice was a soft
symphony of comfort. “You’re okay,
Plankton. You’re home and safe.
You just had surgery. Do you
remember?” she prompted, her
hand squeezing his gently.

Plankton’s eye searched hers,
his thoughts slowly coming into
focus. “Sur...surgery?” he
mumbled, the numbness in his mouth
distorting his words.

Karen nodded, her smile a
warm embrace. “Yes, sweetie.
Wisdom teeth surgery. It’s all
over now, and you’re going
to be okay,” she said, her
voice a gentle reminder of the
reality that had been obscured
by the fog of anesthesia.

Plankton’s eye searched hers,
his mind slowly piecing together
the fragments of the day.
“Moth...huh?” he murmured, his
hand moving to his swollen
cheek.

Karen’s voice was a soft
lullaby. “It’s alright, love.
You had your wisdom teeth out.
You’re all safe and sound,”
she said, her hand covering his
own, guiding it back to the
bedside.

Plankton’s gaze searched
his surroundings. “Thish...
thish wish...” he mumbled.

“Ice cream?” she guessed, her voice
a whisper.

Plankton’s nod was a tiny
celebration of victory. “Yesh...ish
cweam...now?” he asked, his
eye hopeful.

Karen chuckled, her smile
a warm invitation. “Of course,
sweetie. Let’s get you set
up,” she said, her voice a gentle
guidance as she reached for
the ice cream.

new tooth afternoon tripcore iv

PLUSH ONE iv
(By NeuroFabulous)

The next day, Karen wakes
up to find Plankton sitting
on the edge of the bed, his
hands moving in repetitive
patterns over the blanket.
The sun casts a warm glow
over his face, highlighting
his furrowed brow. She watches
him for a moment, his
concentration so intense it's
as if he's trying to solve
a complex puzzle.

"Good morning," she says softly,
not wanting to startle him.
His head snaps up, and for a
fraction of a second, she sees
fear in his eye before it
quickly shifts to recognition.
"Karen," he says, his voice a
little stronger than yesterday.

He looks around the room,
his gaze lingering on the
closed door, the curtains,
the picture of them on
their wedding day. Karen
notices his hand twitching,
his thumb tracing the fabric.
It's a new tic, a new way
his brain is trying to process
the world around him, but she knows
she can't let her fear
control her. She has to be
his rock, his anchor in this
storm of change.

"Do you need anything?"
she asks, keeping her voice
low and even. Plankton's
hand pauses mid-motion, his
eye darting to hers. "Karen,"
he murmurs, almost to himself.

"What's on your mind, Plankton?"
she prompts, her voice soft.

He stares at the wall, his hand
still moving over the fabric.

Karen watches him.
What can she do to help him?
What does he need?

The silence stretches, and she
decides to try again. "Plankton,"
she says gently. "What's on your
mind?"

This time, his hand stops moving,
his gaze flicking to hers. "Karen,"
he says, his voice clear.

"What is it, sweetie?"
she asks, leaning closer.

He takes a deep breath, his
eye darting around the room
before focusing on her. "Karen,"
he says, his voice a little
more coherent. "Need Karen."

It's the first time
he's expressed a need directly.
"You need me?" she asks, trying to
keep her voice steady.

He nods. "Karen," he repeats,
his voice a whisper.

Karen's eyes well up with
tears of joy and fear.
This is the first time
he's expressed a need directly.

"You need me?" she asks,
trying to keep her voice steady.
He nods again, his hand
still clutching the blanket.

Karen takes his hand in hers,
his skin warm and familiar.
"I'm here," she whispers,
squeezing gently. "Always."

Plankton's gaze lingers on their
entwined fingers, his eye
narrowing slightly as if
trying to decode a secret
message.

"You need me to be with you?"
Karen clarifies, her voice
filled with hope and fear.
He nods again, the tension in his
body palpable.

Her eyes never leave his as
she slides closer, sitting
beside him on the bed. "I'm
here," she repeats, her hand
leaving his to rest on his leg. But
he jolted away, his body 
tightening.

"I'm sorry," she says quickly,
retracting her hand. She's 
learning the delicate balance
of closeness and space, a dance
that's unfamiliar but vital to 
their new life.

Plankton's gaze remains on the 
spot where her hand was, his 
expression unreadable. Karen 
wipes at her eyes, willing herself
to be strong. "Okay," she says, her 
voice firm. "Let's try different
touches to see which you like?"

With gentle hesitation, she 
begins to explore his sensory
preferences, starting with a
light stroke on his forearm, watching
closely for any signs of 
discomfort or distress. His hand
twitches, but he doesn't flinch.

Encouraged, Karen moves her hand
up to his antennae, the tenderest
of touches. He flinches at first, but
his gaze holds hers, willing her to
continue. She tries again, stroking
them lightly, watching as the
tension in his body eases.
It's a revelation, a glimpse into
his new sensory landscape.

"Is that ok?" she asks, her
voice barely above a whisper.
Plankton nods, his eye closing
in what seems like pleasure.
"Tickly," he smiles. She tries again,
this time a little more pressure.
He flinches, and she quickly
removes her hand. "I'm sorry,"
she says, her voice thick with
concern.

Plankton opens his eye, looking
at her with a mix of confusion
and sadness. "Karen," he says,
his voice barely a whisper. "Want
Karen."

Her heart breaks for him, for
the man he used to be, for the
man he's becoming. "I'm here,"
she says, her voice soothing.
"I'm gonna try different touches."

Gently, she starts again, her
hand hovering above his arm.
This time, she watches his
expression closely. When he
doesn't react, she touches
his skin lightly, her thumb
tracing circles. "How does
this feel?"

Plankton's gaze flits to her hand,
his eye studying the movement.
"Comfort, rubs," he murmurs.

Karen nods, her eyes never leaving
his. "Okay," she says, her voice
steady. She then moves her hand
to his cheek. Plankton's eye widens.

His skin is warm and smooth under
her touch, and she can feel his
breathing quicken. "Does this
feel okay?" she whispers.

Plankton's eye darts around the room,
his antennae twitching. "Karen," he says,
his voice filled with longing.

Karen's eyes widen.
This is new territory, a place where
the familiar has become strange.

Plankton's eye locks onto hers,
his expression a silent plea.
Her hand stills on his cheek,
his breaths coming in short bursts.

Karen's mind races with the implications
of his reaction. She's read that some
autistic individuals find certain
touches overwhelming. She pulls her
hand away. "I'm sorry,
sweetie," she says, her voice filled with
apology. "I'll try some more different
touches."

She watches him, her love a
steady beacon through the fog
of fear. "How about this?" she asks,
placing her hand on his shoulder.
His breath hitched, his body
tensing. "Plankton," she says gently,
"Does tha-"

"No," he says, his voice firm.
He flinches away from the touch,
his eye wide with panic.

Karen nods. "Okay," she says, her voice
soft. "We'll keep trying." She
reaches for his hand, her touch
deliberate and gentle. This time,
his body relaxes, his hand fitting
perfectly into hers. It's a small
step, but it feels like a victory.

new plush one karencore iv

KAREN AND THE AUTISTIC JOURNEY vi
(Autistic author)

Plankton holds up the science book
he had been clutching, the
pages fluttering in his excitement.

Sponge Bob's eyes flick to the book,
then back to Plankton's face.
"You're acting
different."

Plankton's smile falters, his
hands stilling momentarily. "No bad,"
he insists, his voice a bit too
cheerful. "Just happy."

Sponge Bob's eyes search Plankton's,
trying to read the truth behind
his words. "But you've never
been this... affectionate before,"
he says, his voice tentative.

Plankton's smile widens. "Sponge
Bob," he says, his voice a sing-song.
"You are good friend." He leans
in closer, his antennas quivering.
"Best friend."

Sponge Bob's eyes widen further,
his spongy cheeks reddening. "Plankton,
what's going on?" he asks, his
tone filled with confusion. "You've
never said that before."

Plankton's smile only grows
broader. "No bad," he repeats,
his voice still monotone. "Good
day. Happy." He starts to rock
back and forth on the bed, his
hands flapping in a pattern that
seems almost... happy?

Sponge Bob's confusion
deepens. Plankton had never
been one to show affection,
let alone so openly. "What's
going on?" he asks again, his
voice laced with concern.

Plankton's response is a
repetitive giggle, his eye
locked on Sponge Bob's
face. "Good day," he says, his
hands flapping in a pattern that
matches his words. "Best friend."

Sponge Bob's eyes widen in
surprise. Plankton nods vigorously, his
hands flapping rapidly. "Very happy,"
he says, his voice high and
excited. "Best friend happy."

Sponge Bob's confusion turns
to concern. "Plankton, are you
okay?" he asks, his voice gentle.

Plankton's giggle turns to a
laugh, a sound Sponge Bob rarely
hears from him. "Yes," he says,
his voice still monotone. "Happy."

Sponge Bob watches his
friend, his heart racing. "What
happened to you?" he asks, his
concern growing with each passing
moment.

Plankton's laughter fades into
a grin. "No bad," he says, his
hands still fluttering in the
air. "Just happy."

Sponge Bob's eyes are filled
with worry. "What's really going on?"

Plankton's grin turns into a
frown, his hands stopping their
motion. "Sponge Bob," he says,
his voice dropping to a whisper.
"No bad. Happy."

Sponge Bob's eyes are filled
with confusion, but he
can't ignore the desperation
in Plankton's tone. He reaches out,
his hand resting gently on
Plankton's arm. "But why are you
so happy?" he asks, his voice
filled with genuine concern.

Plankton's frown deepens,
his mind racing to find the
right words. "Because,"
he says, his voice strained. "I
have friend. Best friend."

Sponge Bob's eyes widen,
his hand still on Plankton's
arm. "But we've always been
friends," he says, his voice
filled with confusion.

Plankton's smile is wide, his
eye unblinking. "Yes," he says,
his voice still monotone. "Best
friends. Happy."

Sponge Bob's mind races.
Something is clearly different about
Plankton, but he doesn't know
what. "But, Plankton," he starts, his
voice tentative. "What happened to
make you so... so...?" He struggles
for the right word.

Plankton's smile fades slightly,
his gaze dropping to the book
in his lap. "Book," he says, his
voice flat. "Good book."

Sponge Bob nods, trying to
follow the conversation. "Yeah,
it looks interesting," he says,
his eyes searching for a clue.

But Plankton's gaze is fixed
on the book, his hands
resuming their rhythmic
flapping. "Good book," he repeats,
his voice a gentle mantra.

Sponge Bob's eyes flick from
the book to Plankton's
hands, his mind racing to
connect the dots. "Is something wrong,
Plankton?" he asks, his voice
soft with worry.

Plankton's hands stop
their flapping abruptly, his
eye snapping to Sponge Bob's
face. "No wrong," he says, his
voice earnest. "Just happy."

Sponge Bob's expression is one
of bewilderment. "But you've
always liked your science books,"
he says, trying to find some
semblance of normalcy in the
situation. "What's different about
this one?"

Plankton's smile returns, his
hands resuming their flapping.
"This one," he says, his voice
filled with a newfound enthusiasm.
"Good book. Happy book."

Sponge Bob's eyes widen, his
spongy heart swelling with a
mixture of joy and concern.
"What makes this one so special?"

Plankton's hands flutter with
excitement as he opens the book
to a random page. "Look," he says,
his voice a high-pitched squeak.
"See?"

Sponge Bob leans in, his eyes
scanning the dense text filled with
scientific terms. He nods, trying
to appear engaged, though he has
no clue what he's looking at.
"Wow, Plankton," he says, his
voice filled with forced enthusiasm.
"That's... really interesting."

Plankton's smile widens, his
hands flapping in excitement.
"Yes," he says, his voice a
cheerful monotone. "Good book."

Sponge Bob nods, still
confused but not wanting to
rain on his friend's parade. "Well, I'm
glad you're enjoying it," he says,
his voice warm.

Plankton's hands stop moving
momentarily. "Thank you," he says,
his voice sincere. "You are best
friend." He leans in closer, his
antennas quivering with excitement.

Sponge Bob's eyes widen in surprise
as he feels a sudden wave of warmth
and affection from Plankton, something
that's never been present in their
usually antagonistic friendship.

"What's going on, Plankton?" he asks,
his voice filled with curiosity.
"Why are you being so nice to me?"

Plankton's smile doesn't waver.
"Sponge Bob," he says, his voice
still monotone. "You are good.
You make Plankton happy."

"What's happened to make you 
so affectionate, Plankton?"

Sponge Bob's question hangs in the
air, his curiosity piqued by the
unexpected warmth from his
usually adversarial friend.

Plankton's response is a
repetitive giggle, his hands
resuming their flapping. "No bad,"
he says, his voice cheerful. "Good
day." He pats the bed next to him.
"Sit, Sponge Bob. Read book."

Sponge Bob's eyes widen,
his spongy body frozen in place.
"I don't think I can read that,
Plankton," he says, his voice
filled with uncertainty. "It's
really complicated."

Plankton nods, his smile
remaining constant. "It's okay,"
he says, his voice soothing. "You
try." He pushes the book closer
to Sponge Bob, his hand
guiding him to the page.

Sponge Bob hesitates, his
thumb flipping through the pages.
The words are a blur of symbols
and numbers, his mind struggling
to make sense of them. "But,
Plankton, I don't understand any
of this," he admits, his voice
filled with frustration.

Plankton's hand stops him, his
eye wide with excitement. "Doesn't
matter," he says, his voice
cheerful. "You are here. Best
friend."

Sponge Bob's confusion turns
to concern. "But Plankton,"
he says, his voice gentle. "You're
not acting like yourself."

Plankton's smile fades slightly,
his hands stilling. "Self,"
he repeats, his voice contemplative.
He looks at Sponge Bob, his
eye searching his friend's
face for understanding.

Sponge Bob's expression is one
of confusion and concern. "Is
this a joke?" he asks, his
voice gentle.

Plankton's smile falters for a
moment before growing wider. "No joke,"
he says, his voice a singsong.
"Happy." He pats the bed again,
his hand a silent invitation.

Sponge Bob's eyes fill with
compassion. He sits down beside
his friend. "Plankton," he starts, his
voice tentative. "Is everything
ok?"

Plankton nods vigorously,
his hands flapping with
excitement. "Everything is
good," he says, his voice a
monotone cheer. "Best day."

Sponge Bob's gaze lingers on
his friend, searching for any
sign of distress. "But,
Plankton," he says, his voice
filled with uncertainty. "You're
not usually like this."

Plankton's smile never
fades. "Don't know," he says, his
voice calm. "But now, happy."

Sponge Bob's heart clenches, his
fears for his friend's well-being
growing stronger. "But what
about your schemes?" he asks,
his voice hopeful.

Plankton's eye blinks, the
thought of his usual plans
of world domination momentarily
forgotten. "Schemes?" he repeats,
his voice confused.

Sponge Bob nods. "Yeah, you
know, your plans to steal the Krabby
Patty secret formula," he says, his
tone light.

Plankton's smile falters, his
hands stopping their flapping. "Krabby Patty?"
he asks, his voice distant. "No want
Krabby Patty. Happy."

Sponge Bob's eyes widen, his
spongy mind racing. "You don't want
to steal the formula?" he asks, his
voice incredulous, now really
suspicious.

Plankton shakes his head, his
antennas swaying slightly. "No,"
he says, his voice still monotone.
"Only happy."

Sponge Bob's eyes are filled
with confusion, but he can't
ignore the genuine smile on
his friend's face. "Okay, Plankton,"
he says, his voice gentle. "If
you're happy, then I'm happy
for you."

Plankton's eye lit up, his
hands flapping with excitement.
"Thank you," he says, his voice
filled with gratitude. "Best
friend." 

new karen and the autistic journey confusedcore vi

KAREN AND THE AUTISTIC JOURNEY viii
(Autistic author)

Sponge Bob's eyes widen,
his grip on Plankton's wrists
loosening. "What
accident?" he asks, his voice
filled with dread.

Plankton's smile is gone,
replaced by a look of sadness.
"Head," he says, his voice
a barely-there whisper. "Hurt." He
touches his forehead gently,
his antennas drooping.

Sponge Bob's eyes widen with
realization, his grip on Plankton's
wrists loosening entirely. "You
got hurt?" he asks, his voice
filled with concern. "What happened?"

Plankton nods, his antennas
still drooping.

Sponge Bob's confusion
grows, his anger replaced
with worry. "What do you
mean?" he asks, his voice
softening. "What happened to
your head?"

Plankton's antennas twitch, his
smile a distant memory. "Fall," 
he says, his voice a monotone.

Sponge Bob's heart skips a beat.
"You fell?" he asks, his voice
filled with concern. "When? How?"

Plankton nods, his eye
flickering with something
akin to pain. "Recently," he says,
his voice flat. "Head bad."

Sponge Bob's eyes widen in shock,
his mind racing with questions.
"You fell and hurt your head?" he
repeats, his voice filled with
disbelief. "Why didn't you tell
me?"

Plankton's gaze drops to his book,
his hands fluttering over the
pages. "No tell," he whispers, his
voice filled with regret. "Shame."

Sponge Bob's eyes fill with
understanding, his anger
evaporating like mist in the sun.
"Oh, Plankton," he says, his voice
soft. "You didn't have to keep
this to yourself."

Plankton's smile is a
pale imitation of his usual
self, his antennas still. "No good,"
he whispers, his voice barely
audible. "Head hurt. Plankton bad."

Sponge Bob's eyes are filled
with worry as he tries to
comprehend his friend's cryptic
words. "You're not bad, Plankton,"
he says, his voice gentle. "You've
just had an accident."

Plankton's gaze remains fixed
on the book, his hands
flapping over the pages. "No,"
he says, his voice a sad echo.
"Head bad. Plankton bad." His body
slumps, his usual vibrant energy
dimmed by his distress.

Sponge Bob's eyes are filled
with sadness as he tries to
comfort his friend. "You're not
bad, Plankton," he says, his voice
soothing. "You're just hurt right?"

Plankton's antennas twitch slightly,
his hand stilling on the book. "Hurt,"
he echoes, his voice a monotone.
"Inside head." He taps his forehead,
his eye searching Sponge Bob's
for understanding. "Grey matter.
Neural pathways."

Sponge Bob's eyes widen, his
confusion growing. "What do
you mean, Plankton?" he asks, his voice
filled with concern. "What's
going on with your brain?"

Plankton's hand continues to
tap his forehead, his voice
detached. "Neurochemicals," he says,
his voice a robotic recital. "Synaptic
connections. Autism." His smile
is a mere memory, his eye
glazed over with a faraway look.

Sponge Bob's heart squeezes in his
chest, his mind racing. "You're
talking about your brain," he says,
his voice tentative. "What's wrong
with it?"

Plankton's hand stops tapping,
his gaze focusing on Sponge Bob.
"Wiring," he says, his voice a
monotone explanation. "Neuro-
typical patterns disrupted affect
the parts of brain when result
in autism." His words are precise,
his tone devoid of emotion.

Sponge Bob's eyes widen with
comprehension, his spongy heart
sinking. "You're saying you have
autism now?" he asks, his voice
barely above a whisper.

Plankton nods, his eye
still fixed on the book. "Neurotypical
divergence," he confirms, his voice
still devoid of emotion. "Synaptic
variance, myelination discrepancies."
He speaks in a monotone, his words
sounding rehearsed and mechanical.

Sponge Bob's eyes fill with tears,
his heart breaking for his friend.
"What does that mean, Plankton?"
he asks, his voice shaking.
"Does that mean you're not okay?"

Plankton's gaze remains on
the book, his hand tracing the
spine. "Neuro-typical divergence,"
he repeats, his voice a flat
recitation of medical terms.
"Synaptic connections altered.
Atypical neural patterns. Autism."
He speaks as if recounting
a scientific paper, his tone
lacking any personal connection.
"When hit head, damaged the
myelination," he says, his hand
continuing its mechanical movement
against the book. "Myelination is
the insulation around the axons
that speeds up the nerve impulses 
made in a part of brain we call
the cerebral cortex. My cerebral
cortex now restricts, slows
down impulses."

Sponge Bob listens, his
mind racing to keep up with
Plankton's sudden shift in
vocabulary. "But what does that
mean?" he asks, his voice
filled with concern. "How'd the
damage give you autism?"

Plankton's hand stops
its movement along the book.
"Neurodivergence," he says, his
voice a clinical recount. "My brain
now operates outside typical
parameters. Synaptic pruning,
myelination patterns altered.
Atypical neural networks formed."
He speaks as if discussing a
complex scientific experiment,
his words a jumble of medical
terminology that Sponge Bob
barely understands.

"Does that mean you're not okay?"
Sponge Bob asks, his voice
filled with fear.

Plankton's hand stills on the book,
his gaze unfocused. "Functional
diversity," he says, his voice
a hollow echo of the medical
lingo he's been taught. "Neurodivergence
can lead to unique cognitive
strengths, but also challenges."
He taps the book, his antennas
waving slightly. "My brain's wiring
changed," he says, his voice
a monotone. "Synaptic clefts
widened, neurotransmitters less
efficient. Restricted blood flow to
temporal lobes."

Sponge Bob's eyes are filled
with a mix of confusion and
fear. "Does that mean you can't
be... fixed?" he asks, his voice
small.

Plankton's antennas twitch,
his gaze still unfocused. "Can't fix,"
he echoes, his voice a sad
recitation. "Neuroplasticity, yes.
Rewire, adapt. But cerebral
cortex, permanent. Autism, permanent."

Sponge Bob's eyes are wide,
his mind reeling with the
complexity of Plankton's words.
"But, Plankton," he says, his voice
quivering. "What about the Krabby
Patties? Your plans?"

Plankton's gaze snaps up, his
hands still. "No plans," he says,
his voice a sad echo. "No more steal."

Sponge Bob's eyes widen,
his heart racing. "You don't want
to steal the Krabby Patties anymore?"
he asks, his voice filled with
hope and disbelief.

Plankton's antennas droop, his
hands flapping slightly. "No more
schemes," he whispers, his voice a
monotone. "No more steal." His eye
meet Sponge Bob's, a flicker of
his old mischief briefly shining
through. "But," he adds, his
smile mischievous, "still have
competitive spirit." His hands
begin to flap with excitement.

Sponge Bob's heart soars with
relief, a smile spreading across
his face. "So, you're still
the same Plankton," he says, his
voice filled with hope. "Just...
different. Ok, cool!"

Plankton nods, his smile a
ghostly reflection of his usual
self. "Different," he repeats, his
voice a sad echo. "But still
have friend?" His antennas
wave slightly, his eye searching
Sponge Bob's for reassurance.

Sponge Bob's heart swells with
affection. "Of course, Plankton,"
he says, his voice firm. "We're
still friends. Nothing can
change that." He squeezes
Plankton's shoulder, trying
to convey his support. 

new karen and the autistic journey corpus callosum anterior cingulate cortex (ACC) braincore autismcore headinjuryposting neurodivergentcore neurodisability viii

KAREN AND THE AUTISTIC JOURNEY v
(Autistic author)

The room falls into a tense
silence, the air thick with
the unspoken words of regret
and uncertainty. Plankton's
humming becomes the only
sound in the room. 
Sandy's eyes are glued to
Plankton, watching his
hands move in a mesmerizing
pattern. His humming grows
slightly louder, filling the
space around them with a
comforting buzz. Despite the
simplicity of the act, it's a
powerful declaration of his
new reality.

"Plankton are you ok?" Sandy
asks him.

Plankton's humming stops abruptly,
his gaze snaps to her. "Book," he says
with longing. "Want book."

Sandy nods, her eyes glistening
with newfound understanding.
"Of course," she says, standing up.

She and Karen move to the shelf
where she had placed the book earlier.
Karen reaches up, her hand
carefully retrieving it.

"Here," she says, her voice calm,
handing the science book to him.

He opens it, his gaze
immediately drawn to the index
table in the back. His eye
scans the rows, his
brain finding comfort in the
predictability of the page
numbers. 
He starts to read the
index aloud, his voice a monotone
that fills the room with a
strange rhythm.

"Quantum Mechanics... 134," he reads,
his finger tracing the line. "Relativity,
Special and General... 212."

Karen and Sandy listen, their
expressions a mix of wonder and
concern. They've never seen
Plankton so engrossed in anything
other than his own schemes before.

Sandy's gaze follows the
movement of his finger as it
traces the numbers, her mind
trying to grasp the significance
of his actions. "Why does he
read the index like that?" she
whispers to Karen.

Karen's smile is filled with
both love and pride. "It's
his way of finding order,"
she concurs. "The numbers,
the patterns, it brings him
comfort."

Sandy nods, her eyes never
leaving Plankton. His focus
on the book is intense,
his voice a steady rhythm as
he reads off the page
numbers. "Biology... 37.
Chemistry... 101," he drones.

Karen sits beside him, her
hand on his back, providing
the gentle pressure he craves.
The sound of his voice, the
comfort of the book's familiar
weight, it's all part of his
new routine.

Sandy sits opposite, her paws
clasped in her lap, watching
intently. Her gaze flickers from
Plankton to Karen and back again.
She's learning, trying to
understand.

Plankton's voice rises in excitement
as he reaches the physics
section. "Quantum Entanglement...
543!" he exclaims, his
hands flapping. His
eye lit up, a rare smile
spreading across his face.

Karen's smiles. This was the
Plankton she knew, the one
who found delight in the
complexity of the universe.

He reads on, his voice
picking up speed. "String Theory...
621! Gravity Waves... 784!" His
stimming becomes more animated,
his hands fluttering like the
wings of a butterfly, each
flap a silent declaration of his
newfound obsession with order.

Sandy's curiosity is
piqued, but she's careful not to
interrupt, instead watching him
with a newfound respect. Karen
smiles, her hand still on his
back, feeling the warmth of
his excitement through her metal
shell.

"Plankton, why do you like
the index so much?" Sandy asks,
keeping her voice soft, when
the doorbell rings.

Karen's head snaps up, the
interrupted moment forgotten. "I'll get it,"
she says, standing quickly.

SpongeBob's face appears
in the doorway.

"Hi, Karen!" he says, his
voice bright and cheerful.
"Hi, Sandy!"

Sandy's eyes dart to the
closed bedroom door, then back
to Karen. "I should go," she says,
standing up. "Let you guys
have some space."

Karen nods, her gaze
following Sandy's. "Thank you," she
whispers. "Bye Sandy. Sponge
Bob, come on in; Plankton's in the
bedroom.."

SpongeBob's now going in,
his eyes wide with excitement.

"What's up, Plankton?" he says,
his voice a bubbly burst of
enthusiasm.

Plankton's head snaps up, his
eye wide. "SpongeBob," he says, his
voice excitedly affectionate.

Sponge Bob's eyes widen at the
sight of Plankton's intense focus
on the book. "Wow, Plankton,
you're really into that, huh?"

Plankton's hands stop moving,
his gaze shifting from the
index to Sponge Bob's smiling
face. "Sponge Bob," he says, his
voice filled with glee. He jumps
up from the bed, the book
forgotten as he rushes to embrace
his friend.

Sponge Bob stumbles backward,
surprise etched on his features
as Plankton's arms wrap around
his waist. "Whoa, buddy," he says,
his eyes wide. "What's gotten into
you?"

Plankton's grip tightens, his
body vibrating with joy. "Sponge
Bob," he repeats, his voice a
high-pitched squeak.

Sponge Bob's smile falters, his
hands awkwardly patting Plankton's
back. "It's ok, Plankton," he says,
his voice gentle. "I'm just here
to visit."

Plankton pulls away, his
eye shining with joy
with a warmth Sponge Bob isn't
used to seeing from him.

"Come, sit," he says, his voice
eager. He pats the spot on the
bed next to him. Sponge Bob's
expression is a mix of
happiness and concern.

Sponge Bob sits down, his
body tense. "Plankton, you
ok?" he asks, his eyes
searching Plankton's.

Plankton nods, his hands
still flapping in excitement.
"Good," he says, his voice
monotone yet earnest.

new karen and the autistic journey splankbob splankaren v

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

KAREN AND THE TEETHIES iv

The nurse finishes up and
turns to Karen with a gentle smile.
"He'll be waking up soon," she
says. "Why don't you talk to him?
Sometimes hearing a familiar voice
can help bring them around
better."

Karen nods, leaning in.
"You did so good," she says,
her voice filled with love. "It's
almost over." Plankton's snores
remain consistent, his mouth
slightly open as he drools onto
the chair. She reaches over
and carefully wipes it away with
a tissue. The room is quiet
except for the soft beeps of
the monitors and the sound of
Plankton's deep, even breaths.
The assistant begins to remove
the I.V. from Plankton's arm,
his hand steady despite the
tiny vein he's working with.

The nurse stands by, ready
with a cup of water and a
comfortable chair for him to sit
in when he wakes. Karen's eyes
follow her every move, eager
for the moment she can take him
home.

The minutes tick by, the only
sound in the room the soft
hum of the surgical lights
and the occasional snore from
Plankton. His drool forms a
tiny puddle on the chair, and
Karen dabs it away with a
tissue. His breathing is deep
and steady, the anesthesia
keeping him in a peaceful slumber.

Dr. Finnegan checks the
monitors one last time before
nodding to the nurse. "Due to
the numbing medication we
administered into his mouth,
Karen, Plankton probably won't
immediately feel his mouth or
talk fluently, not to mention the
normal confusion from anesthesia."

The nurse starts to lower the
chair into a more upright position.
Plankton's snores become less
snuffly, more like a soft purr.

"Okay, Karen," Dr. Finnegan
says, "You can start talking to
him now. It'll help him come
around." Karen nods, leaning in
closer. "Plankton," she whispers,
her voice filled with warmth, "it's
almost over. You did so well."

Plankton's snoring morphs into
a gentle snuffle as his head
lolls on the chair. His drool forms
a tiny stream down his chin, and
Karen wipes it away with a tissue,
trying not to laugh at the sight.
The nurse smiles at her, patting
his hand. "He's just about ready."

The chair slowly reclines
back, and Plankton's snores
change pitch again, his mouth
opening slightly more, revealing his
swollen gums and the freshly
stitched sockets. Karen's heart
swells with love and concern.
This is her husband, her rock,
currently a ragdoll in the
hands of anesthesia.

The nurse puts down her tools
and gently shakes Plankton's
shoulder. "Mr. Plankton, it's time
to wake up," she says in a
soothing voice. Karen squeezes his hand
and whispers, "You can do it,
babe. It's almost over."

Plankton's snores begin to
soften, turning into small
moans as he stirs in the chair.

Karen's voice grows
slightly louder, "Plankton,
wake up, you're okay."

The nurse nods, her hand
still on his shoulder. "Come
on, Mr. Plankton," she says,
her voice gentle. "Time to 
wake up now."

Plankton's snores taper off
into quiet, shallow breaths,
his mouth still slightly open.
A string of saliva stretches
between his bottom lip and the
chair, and Karen quickly
wipes it away with the tissue.

His eyelid flutters open,
his gaze unfocused and glazed.
He blinks slowly, looking
around the room as if trying
to piece together where he is.
Karen's eyes are on him, a
mixture of love and concern,
as she smiles down at him, and he
looks at her with a confused
expression.

"Welcome back," she says
softly. His mouth moves, but a
sound comes out, being a
slightly slurred mumble that
sounds like "Mmph?"

The nurse laughs gently. "It's
normal for the mouth to be
numb. You just had your
wisdom teeth out."

Plankton's eye widens a
little, and he tries to speak
again, "Wheah...?"

The nurse chuckles. "Your
mouth is still numb, don't worry."

Karen takes the cue and
reassures him, "You're at the
dentist, honey. You just had
your wisdom teeth removed."
Plankton blinks again, his eye
slowly focusing on her face.
He then looks at the nurse with
confused suspicion. His eye
widens a bit more, looking at
his arm where the I.V. had been,
now just a small bandage.

The nurse nods. "Yes, you're
all done. We're just waiting
for you to wake up fully before
we let you go ho-"

Plankton interrupts with a
slurred, "Huh?" His tongue
doesn't quite cooperate, and he
ends up drooling a bit more.
Karen laughs, the tension in
the room dissipating. "You
heard her, you're okay," she says,
patting his hand.

But Plankton's not quite
convinced. His eye narrows as
his mind fights the fog of
the anesthesia. "Wha... wha...
youw nee thoo do my teethies!
Youw shupposht to taketh them 
out!"

The nurse laughs lightly, a
kindness in her eyes. "Don't
worry, Mr. Plankton, we did.
You're all done. Dr. Finnegan
took them out."

Plankton's gaze shifts to
Dr. Finnegan with curiosity.
"Who's 'Dr. Finny-gwan'?" he
slurs, his voice thick with
confusion.

Karen laughs softly, "It's
Dr. Finnegan, sweetie. He's
the dentist. He's the one who
just took your teeth out."

Plankton's unfocused eye
swivels towards Dr. Finnegan,
his expression one of disbelief.
"Y-you're not... 'Dr. Finny-gwan'?"
he stammers, the words
sliding out of his mouth like
molasses.

The dentist chuckles, his
face appearing over Karen's
shoulder. "It's okay, Plankton,"
he says, his voice calm. "I'm
right here, see?"

Plankton blinks heavily, his
eye darting between the nurse
and Dr. Finnegan, trying to make
sense of the situation. "bu’...
my teethies," he mumbles, his
hand rising to tentatively touch
his swollen cheeks.

The nurse's smile never
fades as she says, "Yes, Dr.
Finnegan performed the
surgery. You're all set."

But Plankton's not so sure.
He looks at her hand on his
shoulder, the same one that
was so gentle when he was
unconscious. "You... youwre
not... a... nentis," he
asks, his words thick with
drowsiness.

The nurse laughs gently, her
patience unwavering. "No,
Mr. Plankton, I'm not. I'm
just here to help you wake
up. Dr. Finnegan is the one
who did the surgery." She
gestures to the dentist, who
smiles back at Plankton.

But Plankton's mind is
still swimming in anesthesia.
"Thent... then wha... who
dat?" he slurs, pointing a
shaky finger at the figure
behind the surgical mask.

The nurse laughs gently,
not offended by his confusion.
"I'm just here to assist Dr.
Finnegan," she explains, her voice
soft and soothing. "I didn't
do the surgery. He did."

Plankton's eye squints
suspiciously at her, his hand
still hovering over his cheek.
"Buth... youw... you haz... hands..."
he mumbles.

The nurse's smile
doesn't falter. "Yes, I do.
But I promise you, it was
Dr. Finnegan who performed
the surgery."

Plankton's gaze swings to
Dr. Finnegan again, his
expression a mix of confusion
and accusation. "Den...
den who... who ish... ish..."
his voice trails off as he tries
to form coherent words, but
his mouth isn't cooperating.

The dentist laughs, a
deep, hearty sound that fills
the room. "It's okay, Plankton.
You're just a little out of it
right now." He reaches out to
give Plankton's shoulder a gentle
squeeze. "Let's get you into the
recovery chair."

Karen helps to lift him
up, his body feeling like a rag
doll in her arms. He leans
heavily on her, his legs
shaky and unsteady. The nurse
supports his other side as
they guide him to the chair.

"Whathish ish...?" he mumbles,
his eye glazed and unfocused,
his hand feeling along the chair
as if trying to understand
what it is.

"It's your chair, Plankton,"
Karen says with a smile,
helping him to sit upright.

Plankton's gaze travels
slowly to the chair.
"Chair?" he slurs, his voice
barely a whisper. He looks back
at Karen, then at the nurse,
his eye wide with bewilderment.
"Whath... whath do I do wiff
thish... chair?"

The nurse and Karen both
chuckle, the tension of the
surgery lifting slightly. "You
just sit down, sweetie," Karen
says, her voice soothing. "Let's
get you comfortable."

Plankton looks at the chair
with a mix of suspicion and
exhaustion. "Buth... I don't
know how to siht," he slurs,
his mouth barely moving. His hand
grips the armrest as if it's a
life preserver.

Karen laughs softly,
supporting him as he sits.
"You've got this," she says,
adjusting his posture. "Just
let yourself lean back."

Plankton's eyelid flaps
weakly. "Buth... buth how do
youw siht?" he repeats, his
words slurring into each
other. His head lolls back,
and Karen and the nurse share a
look of amusement.

The nurse gently pushes
his head back. "Just
and relax, Mr. Plankton," she
instructs. "We've got you."

new ivcore nursecore iv

CHIP IN MY BOX iv
(Autistic author)

Chip's door clicks shut upstairs,
the echo resonating through
the house like a gunshot.
Karen takes a deep
breath, her eyes never
leaving the spot where
Plankton had been standing.

With a sigh, she
picks up the sensory box,
carefully placing the
curtain back inside. She
knows her husband's anger
is not directed at their son,
but at his own inability to
control his condition. She
follows him into the kitchen,
finding him slumped over
the kitchen table, his head
in his hands.

"Plankton," she says
softly, setting the box by him.
He doesn't move, his
breathing ragged and heavy.
"I know you're upset."

He looks up, his eye
shimmering with anger
and a hint of despair.

"I can't... I just can't handle
it," he chokes out, his
voice thick with emotion.

Karen approaches, her
movements slow and careful,
as if she's afraid of startling
a wild animal.

"What can't you handle?"
she asks, her voice gentle.

Plankton's shoulders heave
with a silent sob. "The... the
shame," he whispers. "The fear
that... that Chip will think
I'm broken." His words hang
heavy in the air, each one a
droplet of pain.

Karen's seen this battle play
out countless times, but it
never gets easier. She sits
next to him, her hand
resting gently on his shoulder.
"You're not broken," she says
soothingly. "You're just... you."

Plankton's head snaps up, his
eye wild with desperation.
"But what kind of father
am I?" he asks, his voice
barely a whisper. "What kind
of husband?"

Karen squeezes his
shoulder gently. "The best
kind," she says firmly. "You're
the kind who tries, who
fights for us every day."

Plankton's breath hitches, his
eye filling with unshed tears.
He doesn't believe her,
but her words are a balm
on the raw wound of his pride.
"But I-I-I-I… I can't control it!"
He whispers, his voice
shaking with fear.

Karen's voice is firm and
steady as she replies, "No one
expects you to, honey." She takes
his trembling hand in hers.
"What's important is that
we're here for each other."

Plankton leans into Karen's
side, his body shaking with
repressed sobs. He's never felt
so exposed, so vulnerable.
Her warmth is a comfort.

Karen wraps her arms around
his trembling form, her eyes
closed tight. "You're not
broken," she repeats, her voice
like a gentle lullaby. "You just
have something extra, something
that makes you who you are."

Plankton's breathing slows,
his body relaxing into her
embrace. He knows she's
right.

"You're not broken,"
Karen whispers,
her voice a soothing balm.
"You're just... different."
Her words hang in the air,
their truth resonating deep
within him.

Plankton's sobs quieten,
his breaths slowing to
match hers. He nods,
his head resting heavily
on her shoulder. The fight
leaves him, the storm of
his emotions subsiding
to a gentle patter of rain.

Karen feels the weight of
his head increase, his
body going slack as sleep
claims him. She tightens
her embrace with love and
concern. Her husband's
condition is a constant
reminder of the invisible
battles he faces every day.

The kitchen clock ticks
steadily in the background,
marking the passage of
time. Plankton's breathing
evens out, his features
softening in sleep. Karen
kisses the top of his head,
his antennae twitching.

Karen strokes his back
gently, her mind racing with
thoughts of what to say to
Chip. They need to talk,
to explain things better.

Upstairs, Chip sits on his
bed, his eyes fixed on the
closed door. The echo of his
father's anger still rings in
his ears, making him
feel like he's the one who's
wrong. He wipes his tears,
his curiosity tinged with
a heavy guilt. He decides
to go check on his parents.

He tiptoes down the stairs,
his heart in his throat,
each step a silent apology.
The kitchen light is on, a
soft glow spilling into
the hallway. As he approaches,
he sees Karen, her arms
wrapped around a sleeping
Plankton. His dad's head
is nestled into her shoulder,
his breaths deep and
even in sleep.

Karen's eyes meet Chip's,
filled with a mix of
exhaustion and sadness.
She stands, Plankton's weight
barely a burden to her, and
guides her son to the couch.
With gentle movements, she
sets Plankton down, his body
slumping into the cushions. His
snores are the only sound
that breaks the heavy silence.

"He'll sleep now," Karen
whispers, her voice a
soothing lullaby in the
quiet room. "His episodes
can be draining." She sits
next to Chip, her eyes
never leaving her husband.

Chip nods, his own eyes
swollen from crying. "What's
wrong with him, Mom?" He
asks, his voice small and
scared. He's never seen
his dad like this before,
so lost in his own mind.

Karen sighs, her eyes
filling with a mix of
sorrow and love. "It's not
something that's easy to
explain," she starts, her
hands fidgeting with her
apron. "But I'll try."

Chip nods, his curiosity
still a live wire, but now
tempered with concern.
"Dad has something called
sensory overload," she
explains gently. "Sometimes,
his brain gets too much
information from his
surroundings, and gets
overwhelmed."

He looks up at her, his eyes
searching for understanding.
"It's like when you have too
much on your plate at dinner,
and you just can't eat another
bite," she continues, trying to
make the abstract concept
more tangible for her son. "Except
for him, it's all the time, with
everything he sees, hears, feels..."

Her words hang in the air,
suspended by the gravity of
the situation. Chip nods
slowly, his eyes wide with
realization. "And the box?"
He asks, his voice a whisper.

"The box," Karen says, her
voice a soft sigh, "contains
things that help him cope,
things to help calm him down
when the world gets too loud."
Her gaze lingers on the
closed wooden box, the
secret it holds now a little
less mysterious.

Chip nods, his curiosity
dimming in the face of
his newfound empathy. "Can I
see?" He asks, his voice
hopeful.

Karen looks at him, her
expression torn. "Not now,
sweetheart," she says gently.
"Your dad's not feeling well.
But maybe another time,
when he's ready."

Chip nods, his curiosity
now tinged with sadness.
He looks at his father,
his chest tight with the
knowledge that he's caused
this pain. "But why was he so
angry?" He asks, his voice
small.

Karen takes a deep
breath, choosing her words
carefully. "Your dad's
not angry at you, Chip.
He's angry at himself, and
scared of what you might
think. This isn't something he
wants to share with anyone."

Chip's eyes never leave
his father's still form.
"But why?" He whispers,
his voice thick with tears.

Karen's hand finds Chip's,
giving it a gentle squeeze.
"Because, Chip," she says,
meeting his gaze, "it's hard
for him to admit he needs help.
His personality is..." she
pauses, searching for the right
words, "It's like he's a superhero,
trying to hide his kryptonite."

Chip's eyes widen, his
thoughts racing. "But everyone
has something they're not good
at," he says, his voice
small. "Why can't he-"

Karen's grip on his
hand tightens. "Your father's
not just anyone, Chip," she says,
her voice filled with a mix of
pride and concern. "He's a strong
man, and he's used to being in
control. Having something that
makes him feel vulnerable,
something he can't fix, it's hard
for him to accept."

Chip nods, his eyes never
leaving Plankton's sleeping
form. He's beginning to
understand, but it's a lot to
process. "What can we do?"
He asks, his voice barely
above a whisper.

Karen's smile is sad but
determined. "We can be
there for him," she says,
squeezing his hand. "And we'll
find a way to help him
manage his... moments."

Chip nods, his eyes still
on Plankton. "How can I
make it right?" He whispers.
"How can I help him?"

Karen looks at her son,
seeing the man he'll become.
Her heart swells with pride.
"You already are," she says,
squeezing his hand. "By being
curious, by caring enough to
ask." She pauses, her gaze
softening. "But sometimes,
helping is just giving
someone space to be."

Chip nods, his eyes on
his father's peaceful face.
Plankton's snores are a
comforting background to
their quiet conversation.
He feels a knot loosen in
his chest, his curiosity
giving way to understanding.

new chip in my box chip plankton ii iv

A PLANKTON FAMILY STORY iv
ʷᵃʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ: t̶h̶r̶e̶a̶t̶ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵃⁱⁿˢ ᴰᵃʳᵏ ᵀᵒᵖⁱᶜˢ
(By NeuroFabulous)
ɪ ᴅᴏɴᴛ ᴄᴏɴᴅᴏɴᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇsᴇ ᴀᴄᴛs

"Chip!" Karen's voice was a whipcrack,
full of pain and anger. "How could you say
such a thing?"

Plankton's eye were wet with unshed tears,
his body trembling as he stared at his son,
his mind racing to process the hurtful words.
"Maybe I am a burden," he murmured,
his voice so low it was almost lost in
the heavy silence.

Karen's grip on Chip's shoulder tightened.
"That's enough," she said, her voice shaking.
"You don't mean that, Chip." But the look
on Plankton's face told her that the damage
was done.

Chip stared at his dad, his heart racing.
He hadn't meant to say those things, but
the anger and confusion had just spilled
out. He saw the hurt in Plankton's eye,
the same eyes that had looked at him
with love and pride so many times before.
He felt a lump form in his throat, his
cheeks burning with guilt.

"Dad, I'm, I just..."
He trailed off, not 
knowing what to say
next. Plankton's gaze 
was unflinching,
his hurt palpable.

Chip looked at his dad,
his heart racing. He
could see the pain etched
on Plankton's face, the
way his antennas drooped.

"I didn't mean it," Chip
stammered, his voice
shaking. "I'm sorry."

The silence was deafening.
Plankton's eye searched
his son's, looking for
any hint of sincerity.

Finally, he spoke, his voice
barely a whisper. "You've never
seen me as a burden before."
The words were like a knife
twisting in Karen's heart.

Karen's eyes filled with
tears as she watched the
exchange between her husband
and son. She had always tried
to shield Chip from the harsh
realities of Plankton's condition, but
now it seemed those efforts had
only created a chasm of
misunderstanding.

"Chip," she said, her voice
shaking with emotion, "you know
that's not true. Your father is not a
burden. He's a brilliant scientist, a
loving husband, and the best dad
we could ever ask for."

Chip's eyes fell to the floor,
his shoulders slumping with
the weight of his words. "But
sometimes it feels like it," he
mumbled, his voice thick with
regret.

Karen's eyes searched Chip's
face, trying to understand
his pain. "Sweetie, everyone has
their own challenges. Daddy's just
have to do with the way his
brain works. It doesn't make
him any less of a person or a dad."

But Chip's frustration remained,
his voice cracking.

"But why can't he just get
better?" he demanded, his eyes
filled with a desperation that
neither Karen nor Plankton had
ever seen before. "I mean, if he's so
smart, can't he just fix it? If not, then
why do we have to keep him around?"

Karen's heart sank as she watched
the conversation spiral out of control.
She knew that Chip didn't mean
what he was saying, but the
hurt on Plankton's face was real.
But Chip wasn't listening. His
thoughts had turned to a darker
place, one fueled by his desperation
for normalcy. In a moment of cruel
manipulation, born out of fear and
frustration, he looked up at Plankton.
"Chip," Karen began, her voice firm but
gentle, "autism isn't something that
can be fixed. It's part of who your
dad is. And we..."

But Chip cut her off, his voice
driven by a desperate anger that
surprised even him. "If you can't
play with me, if you can't be a real
dad, then maybe you shouldn't be here
at all," he said, the words tasting bitter
on his tongue. "Maybe we should
just...

"Chip!" Karen's voice was a
whipcrack, eyes filled with horror. "Chip,
that's enough!" she snapped. But her
words seemed to fall on deaf ears.
Chip's mind was a tumultuous sea of
emotions—his frustration, confusion,
and fear of the unknown had led him
to a dark and dangerous place.

Plankton looked at his son, his
eye wide with shock and pain. "Chip,"
he began, his voice shaking, "you
don't mean that. I'm your father. I
love you."

But Chip's anger had turned to
a cold resolve. "It's for the best,"
he said, his voice eerily calm. "If you
can't be a real dad, then maybe it's
time for you to go."

The words hit Plankton like a
freight train. He felt the air leave
his lungs, his antennas drooping
further than ever before. "Chip,"
he choked out, his voice shaking.
"What are you saying?"

Chip's eyes were cold, his
face a mask of determination.
"I'm saying that maybe you
shouldn't be here," he said, his
voice devoid of emotion. "Maybe
it would be better for everyone if
you just weren't around anymo-"

He was cut off by a sound that
seemed to shake the very foundations
of the Chum Bucket—a wail so
deep and mournful that it seemed
to echo through the very fabric of their
lives. It was Plankton, his tiny body
wracked with sobs that seemed too
large for his frame. Chip had never
seen his dad cry before, and the
sight of it made him feel small, his
words weighing on him like an anchor.

Karen's grip on his shoulder
loosened, her eyes filled with a mix
of shock and despair. She moved to
comfort Plankton, her arms wrapping
around him as he collapsed into
her embrace. "It's okay," she whispered,
rocking him gently. "It's okay."

Chip stood there, watching his
parents, the gravity of his words
finally sinking in. He had never
seen his dad like this before—so
weak, so vulnerable. A pang of guilt
shot through him, and he felt the
weight of his own cruelty. Plankton
continued to sob, his body convulsing
with the force of his emotions. Karen
looked up at Chip.

"Your dad needs us right now,"
she said, her voice firm but gentle.
"Please, go to your room and
think about what you've said."
Her eyes were filled with a mix
of anger and sadness, but
mostly, she looked disappointed.

Chip nodded, feeling the full
weight of his own words crash
down on him. He turned and
walked away, each step heavier
than the last as he went to his
own room.

new a plankton family story NeuroFabulous iv

ᴿᵉᶜⁱᵖᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᴰⁱˢᵃˢᵗᵉʳ
𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 𝟽𝟷𝟿
⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾
𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 𝟽𝟷𝟿
"ᴵ'ᵐ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ˢᵃⁿᵈʸ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ "ˢᵒᵘⁿᵈˢ
ᵍᵒᵒᵈ‧" ᴴᵉ ʳᵉᵖˡⁱᵉˢ⸴ ᵇᵘˢʸⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ‧ ᔆᵒ ˢʰᵉ ʷʳᵒᵗᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃ ⁿᵒᵗᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ⁱⁿ
ᶜᵃˢᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ˢᵘʳᵉ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵐᵉᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃⁿᵍ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ ᴹᵉᵃⁿʷʰⁱˡᵉ
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʷ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗᵉ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ‧
"ᴳⁱᵛᵉ ᵐᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ⸴ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵈᵉᵐᵃⁿᵈᵉᵈ‧ "ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ
ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ˢᵒ‧‧" "ᴵ'ᵈ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵒᵛᵉ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ˢᵒ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵃᶜᶜᵉˢˢ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᶠᵉ!" ᴹʳ‧
ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵖⁱᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵘᵇᵉ ˢʰᵃᵖᵉᵈ ᵖᵒʳᵗᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵛᵃᵘˡᵗ⸴ ᵘˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˡˡ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵗʳᵉⁿᵍᵗʰ‧
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ‧ "ᴶᵘˢᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵐᵉ
ᵇᵒʸ⸴ ᴵ'ᵐ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵖᵘᵗ ᵃⁿ ᵉⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵒⁿᶜᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃˡˡ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʰᵉᵃᵛᵉᵈ
ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᶠᵉ ᵃᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ᵇᵃⁿᵍⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵐᵃᶜᵏ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵃⁿ
ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵇᵃʳᵉˡʸ ᵘᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵃ ʸᵉˡᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᶜʳʸ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʰᵉˡᵖˡᵉˢˢˡʸ
ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᶠᵉᵉᵇˡʸ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ʳᵒˡˡᵉᵈ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉᵈ‧
"ᴸᵉᵗ'ˢ ᶠⁱⁿⁱˢʰ ʰⁱᵐ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵈʳᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ
ˡⁱᶠᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ᶠᵃˡˡᵉⁿ ᵃʲᵃʳ‧ "ᴺᵒ⸴ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ 
ʳᵉˢᵒˡᵘᵗᵉ‧ "ᴵ ʷᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵈᵒ ⁱᵗ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ʷᵒⁿ'ᵗ ˡᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧" "ᶠⁱⁿᵉ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵇᵉ
ᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᶜˡᵒˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵃʷ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵉⁿᵗˡʸ ᵖⁱᶜᵏ 
ᵘᵖ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᴹᵉᵃⁿʷʰⁱˡᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ᶠⁱⁿⁱˢʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ᵍⁱʳˡˢ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ‧
ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃʳʳⁱᵛᵉˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ⸴ ʰᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒᵇˢ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ᵒᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ
ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ‧ "ᴾˡᵉᵃˢᵉ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜʳⁱᵉᵈ⸴ ᵃˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʷ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ
ᵐᵒᵗⁱᵒⁿˡᵉˢˢ ᵇᵒᵈʸ ᵒᶠ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ‧ "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ! ᴾˡᵉᵃˢᵉ⸴ ʰᵉˡᵖ! ᴴᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ
ᵐᵒᵛⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵉˣᵖˡᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ‧
ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᶜᵃⁿⁿᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ "ᴹʸ ˢᵒᵘʳᶜᵉˢ ⁱⁿᵈⁱᶜᵃᵗᵉ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ
ʳᵉᵐᵃⁱⁿ ᵘⁿᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢ ᵘⁿᵗⁱˡ ᵃᵗ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ
ᵉᵃʳˡⁱᵉˢᵗ ˢᵒ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵐᵉᵃⁿᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃⁿʸ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ⸴ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ 
ʸᵒᵘ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇˡᵘⁿᵗ ᶠᵒʳᶜᵉ ᵗʳᵃᵘᵐᵃ‧ ᴴᵉ'ᵈ ᵇᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳˢᵗ
ᶜᵃˢᵉ ˢᶜᵉⁿᵃʳⁱᵒ ᵃ ᶜᵒᵐᵃ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵗᵉˡˡ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ˢᵗᵃʸ ᵒᵛᵉʳ
ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ ˡⁱᵏᵉ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃᵗ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ⁱⁿ ᶜʰᵃⁱʳ ᵇʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵇᵉᵈ⸴ ᵉᵛᵉⁿᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᶠᵉˡˡ
ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ˢⁱᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ; ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷᵃˢ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ᵃᶜᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˢ
ᵃ ᵐᵒⁿⁱᵗᵒʳ ᶠᵒʳ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵒᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ
ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʷⁱᵗᶜʰ⸴ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵉⁿˢᵉˢ ᵍʳᵃᵈᵘᵃˡˡʸ ʳᵉᵗᵘʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ‧
ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵖᵉʳᵏᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ⸴ ʰᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵏᵉⁿ‧
ᴱʸᵉ ᶠˡᵘᵗᵗᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ⸴ ʰᵉ ʷᵉᵃᵏˡʸ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵘʳʳᵒᵘⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍˢ‧
"ᴱᵘʰ–" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‽" ᵀʰᵉ ᵈᵘˡˡ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ⁱⁿᶜʳᵉᵃˢᵉᵈ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ʰⁱᵐ
ᵃˢ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᶠᵉ ʰⁱᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳˢᵗ ᵒᶠ ⁱᵗ‧ "ᵁᵍʰ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ
ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵒᵛᵉ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵘⁿᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ‧ "ʸᵃᵍ⸴ ʷʰᵃ‧ ᴹʸ ʰᵉᵃᵈ; ʷʰᵃᵗ ⁱˢ
ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ⁱⁿ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʳᵒᵒᵐ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᑫᵘⁱᵗᵉ ᵉ ʰⁱᵗ ʸᵉˢᵗᵉʳ
ᵈᵃʸ! ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵈʳⁱⁿᵏ?" "ᴵ'ˡˡ ˢᵗᵃʸ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ
ᵃˢ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵉᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗᵉᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧
"ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ᴵ ᵇʳᵘⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵗʳᵘᶜᵏ ʸᵒᵘʳ
ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿˢᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᶠᵉ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵒᵖ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵗᵉᵃˡⁱⁿᵍ
ᵗʰᵉ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ‧ ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒ ˢᵒʳʳʸ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴰⁱᵈ ᴵ ᵍᵉᵗ‧‧‧"
"ʸᵒᵘ ᵈⁱᵈ ⁿᵒᵗ; ᵐʸ ᵃᵖᵒˡᵒᵍⁱᵉˢ‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʷ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ⁱⁿ‧
"ᴵ ʰᵉˡᵖ ʸᵒᵘ ˢⁱᵗ ᵘᵖ ˢᵗʳᵃⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵃ ˢⁱᵖ ᵒᶠ ᵈʳⁱⁿᵏ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ 
ʰᵉˡᵖᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵘᵖʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵖᵒˢⁱᵗⁱᵒⁿ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵍᵒᵗ ᶠʳᵘˢᵗʳᵃᵗᵉᵈ ʷʰᵉⁿ
ʰᵉ ˢᵖⁱˡᵗ ʰⁱˢ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ⸴ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵛᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱⁿᶜⁱᵈᵉⁿᵗ‧ "ᴰᵒⁿ'ᵗ
ʷᵒʳʳʸ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵒᵃˣᵉᵈ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ʰᵒˡᵈ ⁱᵗ ᵒʳ ʰᵉˡᵖ
ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵒˡᵈ ⁱᵗ?" ᴹᵃᵈ ᵃᵗ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᶠᵒʳ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ
ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉⁿᵉʳᵍʸ ᵗᵒ ᵃʳᵍᵘᵉ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ
ᵃⁿᵍʳʸ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉᵐ⸴ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉʷʰᵃᵗ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ‧
"ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ⸴ ʰᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ⁿᵒ ᵉⁿᵉʳᵍʸ‧ "ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵗᵃʸ
ᵇʸ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐᵉ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵘʳᵉ⸴ ᵇᵘᵈ; ʲᵘˢᵗ ʳᵉˢᵗ‧" "ᵀʰᵃⁿᵏ‧‧‧" "ᴸᵉᵃⁿ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧"
ᴴᵉ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵃˢ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ʰⁱᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖⁱˡˡᵒʷ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵉˣᵗᵉᵈ
ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵒˢˢ 'ᴵ ᵃᵐ ʳᵉˢⁱᵍⁿⁱⁿᵍ' ᵗᵒ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ⸴ ᵛᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵃ ᶠʳʸ
ᶜᵒᵒᵏ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵒⁿ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ‧
"ᴵ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱⁿᶜⁱᵈᵉⁿᵗ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵇᵃᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐᵉ
ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵒᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ‧‧‧" "ᑫᵘⁱᵉᵗ⸴ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵖᵒⁱⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ
ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵍᵉˢᵗᵘʳᵉ‧ "ᴿⁱᵍʰᵗ; ˢᵒʳʳʸ‧" "ᴺᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᴵ'ᵈ ˢᵃʸ ⁱᵗ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ
ʷᵃⁱᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ⁿᵃᵍᵍⁱⁿᵍ ᵐᵉ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢⁱᵍʰᵉᵈ‧ "ᴵ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ
ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉⁿᵈ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵃᵛᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ⸴ ᴵ
ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ʰᵉ ˢᵉᵉˢ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃˢ ᵃ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ⸴ ᵈᵉˢᵖⁱᵗᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵃᵈᵐⁱᵗ‧‧‧"
"ᴵ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳⁱˢᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ⸴ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ᴵ'ᵐ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ!"
"ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵘʳᵉ?" "ᴬˢ ʰⁱˢ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ⸴ ᴵ'ᵈ ᵈᵒ ⁱᵗ⸴ ᵒʳ ʰᵉˡᵖ ʰⁱᵐ ᵈᵒ ⁱᵗ!" ᵀʰᵉ ᴷʳᵃᵇ'ˢ ⁿᵒ ᵐᵒʳᵉ‧

new splankbob karesanton karentonbob karentony sandarenton plankdy plankary bobplank unconsciouscore faintcore faintingcore spongebobkin karenism recipe for disaster

CHIP AND FAIL iv
(Autistic author)

Chip leaned in closer, his screen
searching Plankton's unblinking
gaze for some sign of recognition.
He snapped his fingers in front of
his eye. Nothing.

"Dad, can you hear me?" He asked
again, his voice quivering with
concern. Plankton's condition meant
his senses were heightened, but Chip
was unaware of the storm his
enthusiasm had unleashed. Each
question, each touch, was a boulder
crashing down on his father's
fragile mental landscape. 

The thought sent a shiver down
Chip's spine. He had to get
his dad to respond, to come
back to him. "Please, Dad,"
he whispered, his voice a
plea. "I don't know what to do.
Can you wake up?" But Plankton's
body remained rigid, his eye
unseeing. Chip felt a knot
of fear in his stomach. What if
his dad was stuck in there,
unable to escape?

He didn't know his dad was
autistic, didn't understand the
world of sensory input that was
his reality. He didn't know
how much his excitement and
touches could overwhelm him. He
just knew that his dad, the man
who had always been so strong,
was now as still and quiet as a
graveyard at midnight.

Chip's mind raced, trying to
find the right words, the right
touch, to bring Plankton back. He
wanted to share his stories,
his happiness, but instead, he'd
stumbled into a minefield of
unseen sensitivities. He didn't
know how to navigate this
uncharted territory. "Dad," he
whispered, his voice trembling. "Please,
just tell me you're okay."

Plankton's eye remained 
unfocused. His hand hovered
over Plankton's, unsure of what to
do. He didn't know that his
enthusiastic touches were only
adding to the chaos in Plankton's
mind, that his vivid stories were
like a hurricane in a library.

Chip took a step back, his mind
whirling with worry. He had never
seen his dad like this before,
his usual stoic exterior replaced
by a terrifying stillness. "Dad,"
he whispered, his voice shaking.
"What's happening?" He wished
he could read Plankton's thoughts,
understand the turmoil that was
causing his father to withdraw
so completely.

He knew Plankton was different,
that he needed his space and
his quiet, but he had never
realized the extent of his
sensitivities. The more Chip talked,
the more his dad seemed to retreat,
until he was nothing but a shell,
a statue of a man Chip couldn't
reach. He felt like he was
shouting into the wind, his words
disappearing without a trace.

With trembling hands, Chip reached
out to touch Plankton's face,
his heart breaking at the sight of
his father's vacant gaze. "Dad,"
he whispered, his voice filled with
fear. "Please come back." But
Plankton remained unresponsive,
his eye glazed over.

The room grew colder, the air
thicker with Chip's desperation.
"PLEASE, DAD!" He shouted, his voice
breaking. Plankton didn't move,
his body a statue in the swirl of
his sensory chaos. Chip didn't know
his touches and loudness were only
adding to his father's pain.

"Dad, you're scaring me!" Chip's
fingers hovered over Plankton's arm. His heart
was racing as he tried to think
of what to do, his mind a blur
of panic.
He knew his mom might know what to do.
"Mom!" he calls out, his voice
shaky. 

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

ᴿᵉᶜⁱᵖᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᴰⁱˢᵃˢᵗᵉʳ
𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 𝟽𝟷𝟿
⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾
𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 𝟽𝟷𝟿
"ᴵ'ᵐ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ˢᵃⁿᵈʸ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ "ˢᵒᵘⁿᵈˢ
ᵍᵒᵒᵈ‧" ᴴᵉ ʳᵉᵖˡⁱᵉˢ⸴ ᵇᵘˢʸⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ‧ ᔆᵒ ˢʰᵉ ʷʳᵒᵗᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃ ⁿᵒᵗᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ⁱⁿ
ᶜᵃˢᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ˢᵘʳᵉ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵐᵉᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃⁿᵍ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ ᴹᵉᵃⁿʷʰⁱˡᵉ
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʷ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗᵉ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ‧
"ᴳⁱᵛᵉ ᵐᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ⸴ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵈᵉᵐᵃⁿᵈᵉᵈ‧ "ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ
ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ˢᵒ‧‧" "ᴵ'ᵈ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵒᵛᵉ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ˢᵒ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵃᶜᶜᵉˢˢ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᶠᵉ!" ᴹʳ‧
ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵖⁱᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵘᵇᵉ ˢʰᵃᵖᵉᵈ ᵖᵒʳᵗᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵛᵃᵘˡᵗ⸴ ᵘˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˡˡ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵗʳᵉⁿᵍᵗʰ‧
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ‧ "ᴶᵘˢᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵐᵉ
ᵇᵒʸ⸴ ᴵ'ᵐ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵖᵘᵗ ᵃⁿ ᵉⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵒⁿᶜᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃˡˡ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʰᵉᵃᵛᵉᵈ
ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᶠᵉ ᵃᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ᵇᵃⁿᵍⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵐᵃᶜᵏ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵃⁿ
ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵇᵃʳᵉˡʸ ᵘᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵃ ʸᵉˡᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᶜʳʸ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʰᵉˡᵖˡᵉˢˢˡʸ
ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᶠᵉᵉᵇˡʸ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ʳᵒˡˡᵉᵈ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉᵈ‧
"ᴸᵉᵗ'ˢ ᶠⁱⁿⁱˢʰ ʰⁱᵐ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵈʳᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ
ˡⁱᶠᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ᶠᵃˡˡᵉⁿ ᵃʲᵃʳ‧ "ᴺᵒ⸴ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ 
ʳᵉˢᵒˡᵘᵗᵉ‧ "ᴵ ʷᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵈᵒ ⁱᵗ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ʷᵒⁿ'ᵗ ˡᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧" "ᶠⁱⁿᵉ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵇᵉ
ᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᶜˡᵒˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵃʷ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵉⁿᵗˡʸ ᵖⁱᶜᵏ 
ᵘᵖ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᴹᵉᵃⁿʷʰⁱˡᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ᶠⁱⁿⁱˢʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ᵍⁱʳˡˢ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ‧
ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃʳʳⁱᵛᵉˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ⸴ ʰᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒᵇˢ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ᵒᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ
ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ‧ "ᴾˡᵉᵃˢᵉ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜʳⁱᵉᵈ⸴ ᵃˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʷ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ
ᵐᵒᵗⁱᵒⁿˡᵉˢˢ ᵇᵒᵈʸ ᵒᶠ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ‧ "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ! ᴾˡᵉᵃˢᵉ⸴ ʰᵉˡᵖ! ᴴᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ
ᵐᵒᵛⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵉˣᵖˡᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ‧
ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᶜᵃⁿⁿᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ "ᴹʸ ˢᵒᵘʳᶜᵉˢ ⁱⁿᵈⁱᶜᵃᵗᵉ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ
ʳᵉᵐᵃⁱⁿ ᵘⁿᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢ ᵘⁿᵗⁱˡ ᵃᵗ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ
ᵉᵃʳˡⁱᵉˢᵗ ˢᵒ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵐᵉᵃⁿᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃⁿʸ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ⸴ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ 
ʸᵒᵘ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇˡᵘⁿᵗ ᶠᵒʳᶜᵉ ᵗʳᵃᵘᵐᵃ‧ ᴴᵉ'ᵈ ᵇᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳˢᵗ
ᶜᵃˢᵉ ˢᶜᵉⁿᵃʳⁱᵒ ᵃ ᶜᵒᵐᵃ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵗᵉˡˡ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ˢᵗᵃʸ ᵒᵛᵉʳ
ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ ˡⁱᵏᵉ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃᵗ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ⁱⁿ ᶜʰᵃⁱʳ ᵇʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵇᵉᵈ⸴ ᵉᵛᵉⁿᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᶠᵉˡˡ
ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ˢⁱᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ; ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷᵃˢ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ᵃᶜᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˢ
ᵃ ᵐᵒⁿⁱᵗᵒʳ ᶠᵒʳ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵒᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ
ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʷⁱᵗᶜʰ⸴ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵉⁿˢᵉˢ ᵍʳᵃᵈᵘᵃˡˡʸ ʳᵉᵗᵘʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ‧
ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵖᵉʳᵏᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ⸴ ʰᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵏᵉⁿ‧
ᴱʸᵉ ᶠˡᵘᵗᵗᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ⸴ ʰᵉ ʷᵉᵃᵏˡʸ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵘʳʳᵒᵘⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍˢ‧
"ᴱᵘʰ–" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‽" ᵀʰᵉ ᵈᵘˡˡ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ⁱⁿᶜʳᵉᵃˢᵉᵈ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ʰⁱᵐ
ᵃˢ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᶠᵉ ʰⁱᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳˢᵗ ᵒᶠ ⁱᵗ‧ "ᵁᵍʰ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ
ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵒᵛᵉ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵘⁿᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ‧ "ʸᵃᵍ⸴ ʷʰᵃ‧ ᴹʸ ʰᵉᵃᵈ; ʷʰᵃᵗ ⁱˢ
ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ⁱⁿ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʳᵒᵒᵐ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᑫᵘⁱᵗᵉ ᵉ ʰⁱᵗ ʸᵉˢᵗᵉʳ
ᵈᵃʸ! ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵈʳⁱⁿᵏ?" "ᴵ'ˡˡ ˢᵗᵃʸ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ
ᵃˢ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵉᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗᵉᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧
"ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ᴵ ᵇʳᵘⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵗʳᵘᶜᵏ ʸᵒᵘʳ
ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿˢᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᶠᵉ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵒᵖ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵗᵉᵃˡⁱⁿᵍ
ᵗʰᵉ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ‧ ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒ ˢᵒʳʳʸ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴰⁱᵈ ᴵ ᵍᵉᵗ‧‧‧"
"ʸᵒᵘ ᵈⁱᵈ ⁿᵒᵗ; ᵐʸ ᵃᵖᵒˡᵒᵍⁱᵉˢ‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʷ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ⁱⁿ‧
"ᴵ ʰᵉˡᵖ ʸᵒᵘ ˢⁱᵗ ᵘᵖ ˢᵗʳᵃⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵃ ˢⁱᵖ ᵒᶠ ᵈʳⁱⁿᵏ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ 
ʰᵉˡᵖᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵘᵖʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵖᵒˢⁱᵗⁱᵒⁿ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵍᵒᵗ ᶠʳᵘˢᵗʳᵃᵗᵉᵈ ʷʰᵉⁿ
ʰᵉ ˢᵖⁱˡᵗ ʰⁱˢ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ⸴ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵛᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱⁿᶜⁱᵈᵉⁿᵗ‧ "ᴰᵒⁿ'ᵗ
ʷᵒʳʳʸ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵒᵃˣᵉᵈ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ʰᵒˡᵈ ⁱᵗ ᵒʳ ʰᵉˡᵖ
ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵒˡᵈ ⁱᵗ?" ᴹᵃᵈ ᵃᵗ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᶠᵒʳ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ
ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉⁿᵉʳᵍʸ ᵗᵒ ᵃʳᵍᵘᵉ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ
ᵃⁿᵍʳʸ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉᵐ⸴ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉʷʰᵃᵗ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ‧
"ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ⸴ ʰᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ⁿᵒ ᵉⁿᵉʳᵍʸ‧ "ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵗᵃʸ
ᵇʸ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐᵉ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵘʳᵉ⸴ ᵇᵘᵈ; ʲᵘˢᵗ ʳᵉˢᵗ‧" "ᵀʰᵃⁿᵏ‧‧‧" "ˡᵉᵃⁿ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧"
ᴴᵉ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵃˢ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ʰⁱᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖⁱˡˡᵒʷ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵉˣᵗᵉᵈ
ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵒˢˢ 'ᴵ ᵃᵐ ʳᵉˢⁱᵍⁿⁱⁿᵍ' ᵗᵒ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ⸴ ᵛᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵃ ᶠʳʸ
ᶜᵒᵒᵏ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵒⁿ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ‧
"ᴵ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱⁿᶜⁱᵈᵉⁿᵗ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵇᵃᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐᵉ
ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵒᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ‧‧‧" "ᑫᵘⁱᵉᵗ⸴ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵖᵒⁱⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ
ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵍᵉˢᵗᵘʳᵉ‧ "ᴿⁱᵍʰᵗ; ˢᵒʳʳʸ‧" "ᴺᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᴵ'ᵈ ˢᵃʸ ⁱᵗ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ
ʷᵃⁱᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ⁿᵃᵍᵍⁱⁿᵍ ᵐᵉ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢⁱᵍʰᵉᵈ‧ "ᴵ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ
ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉⁿᵈ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵃᵛᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ⸴ ᴵ
ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ʰᵉ ˢᵉᵉˢ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃˢ ᵃ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ⸴ ᵈᵉˢᵖⁱᵗᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵃᵈᵐⁱᵗ‧‧‧"
"ᴵ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳⁱˢᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ⸴ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ᴵ'ᵐ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ!"
"ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵘʳᵉ?" "ᴬˢ ʰⁱˢ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ⸴ ᴵ'ᵈ ᵈᵒ ⁱᵗ⸴ ᵒʳ ʰᵉˡᵖ ʰⁱᵐ ᵈᵒ ⁱᵗ!" ᵀʰᵉ ᴷʳᵃᵇ'ˢ ⁿᵒ ᵐᵒʳᵉ‧

new recoverycore recoverypunk spandy karandy karendy karandyn girlsnight senselesscore splankaren

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new sickcore hospitalcore iv

I	V	X	L	C	D	M
5	10	50	100	500	1000

🔢

Individual decimal places
Thousands	Hundreds	Tens	Units
M	C	X	I
MM	CC	XX	II
MMM	CCC	XXX	III
CD	XL	IV
D	L	V
DC	LX	VI
DCC	LXX	VII
DCCC	LXXX	VIII
CM	XC	IX

new 🔢 listcore schoolcore i ii iii iv v vi vii viii ix x xi xii xiii xiv xv xvi xvii xviii xix roman alphabet operating system

🅿️🅾️Rn

ྀི🧸▶︎•၊၊||၊|။||||||။၊|။•

new coquette ae iv v f

🌸💮🪷🏵️🌺🌹💐🍉🍑🍏🍈🍇🍈🥥🥕🥦🥕🥥🟨🟡⚪🟡🟠🔴®©a++4€€{\
*ੈ𑁍༘⋆ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི1️── .✦⋆˚࿔ 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝜗𝜚˚⋆⋆˚࿔ 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝜗𝜚˚⋆⋆˚࿔ 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝜗𝜚˚⋆⋆˚࿔ 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝜗𝜚˚⋆⋆˚࿔ 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝜗𝜚˚⋆⋆˚࿔ 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ᥫ᭡

⠀⠄⠠⡀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⡃⠀⠆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡂⠁⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠒⠊⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⢇⠀⠀⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠂⠒⠦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡂⠀⠀⢈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠡⡀⠀⡂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠂⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠄⣥⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡨⠏⡿⠗⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠤⠎⠀⠀⡂⠀⠉⠓⢄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡜⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠂⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡤⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⠤⠤⠤⠤⠄⠤⠤⢤⠄⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠓⠺⠒⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣇⠀⠀⡆⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣇⠀⠄⠀⡆⠁⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡀⠠⠄⠀⠸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣇⢵⠗⢸⠠⠀⡂⠀⡄⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⣀⡈⣓⠹⡁⣟⢦⢨⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢅⡩⡀⡇⢄⣭⠧⣸⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⢼⠨⠏⣧⢹⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠑⡅⠗⣗⠂⣟⣽⢹⠇⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⢬⡀⣄⡇⡕⢿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠧⡙⣧⠄⠝⢞⡇⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⢀⣦⠁⣹⡁⡾⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠑⡧⣗⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⡠⣻⣟⠀⣩⠏⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠏⡄⠀⠀⠀
⢖⢏⠈⡟⠃⡔⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠑⢂⠀
⠀⠉⠃⡀⢀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢇
⠀⠀⠀⠀⡞⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢨
⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡜
⠀⠀⠀⠀⢱⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡘⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠳⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡰⠇⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡰⠁⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠑⢆⡀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠄⠃⠀⠀⠓⠤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

new ii iv dickies dot art text art ascii art

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Copy & Paste Karenktondy Emojis & Symbols KAREN AND THE AUTISTIC JOURNEY iv(Autistic author)

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