Loopycore Emojis & Text

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

𝖳𝖮 𝖢𝖧𝖠𝖭𝖦𝖤 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖶𝖮𝖱𝖫𝖣 pt. 3 Sequel to Autism And All by NeuroFabulous https://emojicombos.com/autism-and-all Read the Autism And All one first! Plankton's mouth feels like it's been stuffed with cotton, his tongue thick. He tries to form words. "Ma...ma..." he whispers, his voice a slur. Karen's eyes light up at the sound. "You're ok," she says, her voice a balm to his frayed nerves. "You had your teeth out. You might feel funny for a little while." He looks at Karen, his eye searching hers. "Wh...wh...whath?" he stammers, his speech jumbled. Karen leans closer, her smile reassuring. "Your wisdom teeth, Plankton. They took them out so you won't have any trouble with them later." But the words don't make sense to him, his brain still fuzzy from the anesthesia. He tries to speak again. "Wi...wis...wis..." he stammers. Karen nods. "Wisdom teeth," Karen repeats slowly. "They're out now. You're all done!" The words swirl in Plankton's head, not quite making sense. He feels his mouth, the cottony feeling replaced by the pressure of gauze. He giggles. "My moufs fweel funmy," he says, his words slurred. Karen laughs softly. "It's because of the surgery, sweetie. Your mouth is healing." She coos. "I fink I sownd funny," he says, his eye glinting with mirth. The nurse returns, checking his vitals. "How are you feeling?" she asks. Plankton looks up, his eye glassy. "Wibidy wobidy," he slurs, his speech a mess of sounds and syllables. Karen can't help but laugh, despite the situation. "You're doing great," she says with love for his confused silliness. The nurse chuckles, too. "It's the anesthesia," she explains. "It'll wear off soon." His gaze darts to his own fingers. "Wook at my fingews," he says to Karen, his speech slurred from the anesthesia. Karen nods, smiling. "Oh yeah?" Plankton nods, his cognitive abilities still under the fog. "Yeth," he slurs, trying to sit up. "Take it easy," she says. "You're still woozy." The room feels like it's spinning as Plankton tries to sit up, his brain struggling to keep up with his body's movements. "Wha...?" he mumbles, his gaze unfocused. But Plankton's curiosity wins out. He reaches up to touch a finger to his mouth, feeling the thickness of the gauze. "Fingews," he repeats, his voice still slurred. Karen laughs with affection. "It's ok honey," she says. "You're doing great." Plankton looks around the room, his eye still unfocused. "Wheh...wheah awe we?" he mumbles. The nurse explains patiently, "You're in the recovery room at the dentist's office. You just had your wisdom teeth removed." But the words don't quite register, and he nods slowly, his mind racing with confusion and curiosity with wonder, taking in the world as if seeing it for the first time. The colors, the shapes, the sounds—everything is fresh and new. He looks at his hands as if it's an alien appendage. "Wook ath dis," he says to Karen, his voice a mix of amazement and bewilderment. His fingers spread wide, then close into a fist, then open again. "Wook whath I can do!" Karen swells with love. It's like watching him discover the world anew, like a baby seeing his own hands for the first time. She can't help but smile at his innocent fascination. The nurse nods at Karen. "You can take him home now. Just make sure he rests and takes it easy." Karen nods, her smile never leaving her screen. She helps Plankton up. "Hi," he says, his voice a slurred mumble. As they make their way to the car, Plankton's steps are unsteady, his body still fighting the remnants of the anesthesia. He looks around with wonderment, as if seeing the world in a new light. "Mowah?" he asks, pointing to the sky. Karen laughs gently. "It's the sun, honey. It's ok." Plankton nods, his mind trying to piece together the puzzle of his reality. "We're gonna pick up Chip from the park. He's with Hanna.." "Chip...Chip, Chip," he repeats, the word rolling off his tongue. The car ride is a blur of sounds and sensations that Plankton tries to filter out. He leans his head against the cool window, watching the world pass by in a haze. Karen keeps glancing back at him in the rearview mirror, amusement etched on her face. "You ok?" she asks. Plankton nods, his eye heavy. "Tiwed," he murmurs. "Try not to fall asleep," she says. "Because we're almost there." His eye drifts to the passing scenery. Trees whiz by. He counts the telephone poles, his slurred voice mumbling the numbers. "One, two, free, four..." "Almost there," Karen says. Plankton nods, his hand finding the seatbelt buckle, tracing its edges. "Five, sis, seb..." But alas, Plankton's efforts to stay alert are in vain. His lid flutters and his head nods. "Plankton, keep your eye open," Karen says, her voice a gentle reminder. But his body has other plans, succumbing to the sedative's embrace. "Wake up, Plankton," Karen says, a hint of laughter in her tone. She knows he can't help it. His slumber is deep, his snores a soft echo in the car. She watches him in the mirror, his face relaxed in sleep. It's a rare sight. Plankton's normally alert and active demeanor is replaced by a peaceful stillness that fills the car. The surgery was a success, yet the anesthesia has taken its toll. Karen pulls into the parking lot of the park, the sun casting a warm glow. "Wakey, wakey," she sings. Plankton's snores hitch, but his eye stays shut. She opens the car door and the chilly air fills the car, carrying with it the laughter of children playing. "Plankton," she calls, her voice gentle but firm. He stirs, his body protesting the interruption. "Chip?" he mumbles, his voice still thick with sleep. Karen laughs softly. "Yes, we're here to get Chip. Time to wake up." She reaches over and squeezes his hand. His eye blinks open, the pupil dilating as he takes in his surroundings. "Wha...?" he mumbles, his brain still fighting the anesthesia. Hanna and Chip look up as their car approaches. "What happened?" Chip asks as he gets in the car. Karen starts to answer, but Plankton's slurred interjection stops her. "Dey hook my teefs!" he says, his words a jumble. Chip's eyes widen. "He had his wisdom teeth out," Karen explains. Hanna looks at Plankton, her expression one of concern. "How are you feeling?" she asks. "Wibidy wobidy," he slurs. "Buh I dunno." Karen smiles. "So, we went to the dentist," she says, waving bye to Hanna. "They had to take his wisdom teeth out." Chip looks confused. "What does that mean, Mom?" He asks Karen. "Well Chip, your dad had some teeth that were gonna cause problems, so they took them out," Karen starts. "But the medicine they gave him makes him feel funny. It's like when you have a sleepover and wake up groggy." Chip nods. "What medicine?" He continues. Plankton tries to answer, but his speech is still slurred. "Dey gabe me sumpin' to sleep," he mumbles, his eye half-closed. "It's called anesthesia," Karen says, her voice calm and steady. "It's what helps people not feel pain during surgery." Chip nods, watching his dad with a mix of curiosity and concern. "But it makes him a bit loopy," Karen adds as they pull away. "Chip," Plankton starts. "Whath thad?" "It's my hand, Dad," Chip answers, confused. "Chip's hamv?" Plankton persists, his mind still fuzzy. Karen chuckles, seeing his curiosity piqued. "Chip's hamv?" Plankton repeats, his speech still slurred. Chip holds up his hand. "It's just a hand, Dad," he says. Karen laughs. "It's his hand, Plankton. It's ok. You're just a bit loopy." "Wook ath the clows," Plankton says, lazily pointing at the clouds. Karen smiles. "They're just clouds," she says. Plankton giggles, his eye glazed with a childlike wonder. Karen knows this phase won't last, but she cherishes it.

💜💚✨plankton x karen✨💚💜

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

James Potter was a peculiar boy with a head of unruly black hair and eyes so bright they could outshine the stars. He had a knack for turning the most mundane moments into grand adventures. Whether it was climbing the tallest tree in the schoolyard or racing his friends across the Quidditch pitch, his imagination knew no bounds. But even in the whirlwind of his escapades, there was one person who remained steadfastly out of reach: Lily Evans. Lily was unlike anyone James had ever met. Her fiery red hair was a stark contrast to her soft, porcelain skin, and her eyes sparkled with a mix of intelligence and mischief. She was as fierce as a lioness and as graceful as a swan. Her laugh was like a melody that could charm the sternest of hearts, and it was a sound that James longed to hear directed at him. However, she had a tendency to dismiss his efforts with a roll of her eyes and a smirk that suggested she saw right through his bravado. Severus Snape, on the other hand, was a solitary figure. He lurked in the shadows of the school corridors, his eyes darting like a snake's as he took in every detail. His black hair was always impeccably combed and his robes pristine, as if he had just stepped out of a dark wardrobe. Severus was a prodigy in the art of potions, his talents often overlooked due to his cold demeanor. Yet, beneath the surface, there was something about him that drew James in. Perhaps it was the hint of vulnerability that occasionally flickered across his face, or the way his eyes lit up when he spoke about the most obscure magical herbs. The two boys moved in different circles, but they had one thing in common: a deep admiration for Lily. They watched her from afar, each imagining what it would be like to be the one to make her laugh genuinely or to capture her heart. But as the school year rolled on, their paths began to intertwine in ways they could never have anticipated. It was as if fate had a twisted sense of humor, throwing them together in situations that neither could escape. And as they found themselves drawn closer to Lily, a silent rivalry began to brew between them, a dance of longing glances and unspoken words. James, ever the charmer, tried to win Lily over with his flashy Quidditch moves and cheeky grins. But Lily, ever the enigma, remained unimpressed. In his frustration, James took to teasing Severus, using his popularity to make the other boy's life bad. He'd steal his books, trip him in the halls, and whisper snide comments. One rainy afternoon, as the school was dismissed for the day, James caught Severus crossing the crowded courtyard. He saw his chance and sneered, "Hey, Snapes, where's your broomstick?" His friends snickered, and Severus tensed, his eyes narrowing. Without waiting for a response, James conjured a water spray that drenched Severus' already soggy robes. The laughter grew louder as Severus stumbled away, the weight of his sodden clothes dragging him down. In the Great Hall, James watched as Severus sat alone at the Slytherin table, his shoulders hunched over a book. He whispered to his friends, "Look at the lonely little snake," and they all burst into laughter again. Severus glanced up, his gaze sharp and piercing, but James felt no remorse. In fact, he felt a strange thrill, as if he was in control of something he never had been before. The power of ridicule was potent, and he wielded it with the same ease he did his wand. Days turned into weeks, and James' pranks grew bolder. He'd jinx Severus' shoelaces to trip him up in the halls, replace his potion ingredients with foul-smelling dungbombs, and even cast a spell to make his robes shrink in the middle of class. Each time, Severus took the humiliation in silence, his eyes burning with a quiet anger that James found both fascinating and thrilling. It was a twisted game, but one James was determined to win. But the more James bullied, the more he felt the knot in his stomach tighten. It wasn't just guilt; it was something else. He noticed the way Severus' hands trembled as he poured potions, the way his voice grew softer in the face of his tormentors. And every time Lily saw what was happening, she'd give James a look that made him feel smaller than a house elf. He knew he was losing her respect, but he couldn't stop. It was as if he was under a compulsion to push Severus away from her, to prove to himself that he was the one she truly desired. One day, James' antics reached a new low. He'd convinced a group of his friends to help him pull a prank so elaborate, it was sure to leave Severus humiliated beyond repair. They waited in the shadows of the deserted library, setting up a series of traps that would culminate in a grand finale of slime and laughter. But as Severus approached, his head buried in a dusty tome, James felt a strange tug at his heart. He watched as the other boy stepped onto the first trap, a levitating book that smacked him in the face. The laughter of his friends seemed to echo hollowly in the vast room. Severus stumbled back, dropping his book into the puddle of ink that had appeared under his feet. He looked up, his eyes meeting James' for a brief moment. In that instant, James saw something he hadn't noticed before: a deep sadness that mirrored his own. It was as if the layers of bravado and spite had been peeled away, revealing a soul just as lost and lonely as his. The laughter died in his throat, and for a moment, James felt a flicker of empathy. But the moment was fleeting. His friends were still snickering, and Lily was watching from across the room, her arms crossed and her expression unreadable. He knew he had to go through with it. The second trap was triggered, and a cascade of glittering confetti showered Severus, sticking to his damp robes like glittering scales. The Slytherin students looked on with a mix of amusement and contempt, and James felt his heart sink. He'd gone too far. As the last echo of laughter faded away, Severus slowly picked himself up, his eyes never leaving James. He wiped the ink from his face and took a step towards him, his fists clenched at his sides. "Is this what you call fun, Potter?" he spat, his voice low and dangerous. James took a step back, his bravado momentarily forgotten. He hadn't anticipated this. "It was just a joke, Snapes," James said weakly, his smile slipping. Severus took another step closer, his eyes blazing. "Is it a joke to you, to watch someone else's pain?" James's heart hammered in his chest as he searched for the right words, but his usual quips eluded him. The realization of what he'd done washed over him like a cold shower. He'd gone too far, and he couldn't take it back.

"You can totally sit with us," said a voice that seemed to shimmer with the promise of friendship. Cady Heron looked up from her lunch tray, blinking in surprise. The speaker was a girl with a smile so wide it could swallow her whole, her blonde hair glossy and her teeth as bright as the fluorescent lights above. The words hung in the air, tantalizing and slightly intimidating. This was Regina George, the queen bee of High School. Cady had heard the whispers, the stories that painted her as both an angel and a demon. She was the center of the school's social universe, and everyone else was just a planet orbiting around her. Cady felt a swell of excitement. She had been a fish out of water since moving from Africa to the suburbs of Chicago. The simple act of being acknowledged by the most popular girl in school was a beacon of hope in a sea of unfamiliar faces and cliques. She took a tentative step forward, her heart racing. "Thanks," Cady managed to murmur, setting her tray down at the table. The cafeteria buzzed with whispers as the group of pretty, popular girls made room for her. They were known as the Plastics, a name that Cady had learned from her newfound friend Janis Ian. These girls were the epitome of high school royalty, and now she was about to become one of them.

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‧‧‧"

W ired I ntegrated F emale E lectroencephalograph Любимая жена!

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

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

In the quaint town lived a young woman named Charlotte Watsford. Her days were filled with the quiet rhythms of the local library, where she worked meticulously cataloging books that had seen more years than she had. Charlotte had an unassuming beauty, with her auburn hair pinned back. Her smile was gentle, and it had the power to make even the sternest of patrons feel at ease. Beneath the veneer of the town, there was a world of magic, ancient and unseen. It was here that Charlotte's life took an unexpected turn when she met Cleo Sertori, a young woman with secrets as deep as the ocean. Cleo was a mermaid, a guardian of the sea, blessed with the ability to manipulate water and heal the creatures that dwelled within it. The revelation was as shocking as it was fascinating. Yet, with this gift came great responsibility, and Charlotte found herself torn between the life she knew and the allure of the vast, unexplored waters that called to her soul. One moonlit night, while the town slept peacefully, Charlotte felt an eerie emptiness within her. The gentle whispers of the sea that had once resonated in her heart were now silent. Panic set in as she realized her mermaid tail, a symbol of her newfound identity, had withered away, leaving her with the legs of a human once more. The loss of her powers weighed heavily on her, a sudden and profound absence that seemed to dull the vibrant colors of the world around her. Her heart pounded as she approached the edge. The ocean below was a restless canvas of inky blues and greys, a stark contrast to the serene waters that had cradled her during her time as a mermaid. The salt air kissed her cheeks, carrying with it a bittersweet reminder of the freedom she had left behind. Lewis, her devoted best friend, stood beside her, his eyes filled concern and curiosity. With trembling hands, Charlotte reached to Cleo's necklace. It was a talisman of her friendship with the mermaid, a bond that transcended the boundaries of land and sea. "I have to return this to her," she murmured, the weight of her decision etched into every syllable. With a heavy heart, Charlotte unclasped the necklace.

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

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

Plankton lay on the makeshift bed of crumpled newspaper, his body contorted into an uncomfortable knot. "I can't get to sleep, Eugene." Krabs sighed. "Why not?" "To hard," Plankton complained. Krabs looked over. "Maybe you need something to relax," he suggested. Plankton nodded, hopeful. "Like what?" Krabs considered for a moment, then his eyes lit up. "How about a bed time story?" "A what?" Plankton's voice was filled with skepticism. "You know, something to lull you to sleep." Plankton's expression softened. "Alright, Krabs, hit me with your best shot." Eugene cleared his throat and began his tale. "Once upon a time, in the vast expanse of the sea, there was a tiny plankton named Planky..." Plankton's eye widened for a moment, but the gentle rhythm of Krabs' voice soon began to work its magic. The crab's words painted a picture of a serene under water world, where the currents were soft whispers and the bioluminescent creatures danced a silent ballet. Plankton's eye grew heavier with each sentence, his body slowly unfurling from its tense state. "Planky," Eugene continued, "was a curious little fellow who loved nothing more than to drift through the sea, discovering its many secrets." His voice took on a soothing quality, each word carefully measured to match the steady rise and fall of the ocean outside their abode. "One night," Krabs went on, "as the moon cast its silver glow through the water, Planky stumbled upon a hidden lagoon. It was a place where the jelly fish swam in lazy circles, their soft bodies pulsing to an ancient lullaby that only the deep-sea creatures knew." Plankton's eyelid grew heavier, the image of the tranquil lagoon filling his mind. "In the center of this secret place," Krabs whispered, "was a giant clam, its shell open just enough to reveal a soft, inviting cushion of algae. Planky couldn't resist the urge to rest his tiny body upon it." Plankton's breathing grew deeper. He could almost feel the gentle sway of the clam's soft inner lining beneath him, the coolness of the water surrounding him, and the hypnotic pull of the moon's glow. Krabs noticed the change in his friend's demeanor and continued the story with renewed enthusiasm. "As Planky lay on the clam's cushion, the jellyfish grew closer, their ethereal lights creating a dazzling display of color that danced in time with the whispers of the water. They sang to him, their melodies echoing through the quiet night." The room grew quieter, save for the sound of the waves outside and Krabs' steady voice. Plankton's eye closed fully, his breathing syncing with the rhythm of the story. The crab went on, "Their song was one of peace and tranquility, of a world where worries were as fleeting as the bubbles that floated to the surface. Planky felt his troubles melt away, replaced by the warm embrace of the sea." Then, amidst the serene imagery, the first faint sound of a snore escaped Plankton. It was a sound so small and delicate that it could have easily been mistaken. Krabs smirked to himself. It's working. He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. "As the jellyfish serenaded him, Planky felt his eyes grow heavier and heavier, until they could no longer stay open. The lagoon's secrets grew dimmer, the colors of the jellyfish fading into a soft, comforting darkness." The snores grew progressively, more regular. Krabs took a moment to appreciate his own cleverness before continuing the tale. "The sea creatures of the night, noticing Planky's peaceful slumber, decided to join him. They formed a living blanket of fish and algae, wrapping him in their gentle embrace, ensuring his sleep would be uninterrupted." Plankton's body grew slack, the tension in his muscles seeping away as he descended deeper into the realm of sleep. His snores grew more rhythmic. The light from the moon had been absorbed into his dreams, guiding him through a world of peace and contentment. Krabs watched his friend's sleeping form, noticing the way the shadows played across his tiny frame, Plankton's antennae twitching ever so slightly with every snore, mouth slightly open as he inhaled and then to let out the soft, rumbling sounds. The sight was peculiar, yet endearing in its own peculiar way. He had never seen Plankton so relaxed, so free. The crab felt a strange sense of accomplishment and allowed himself a brief moment of pride before remembering his own exhaustion. "Now, Sheldon," Eugene murmured, "Let your mind rest, and tomorrow we'll tackle the world anew."

Here are some idioms that use the word "chip": Chip on your shoulder An informal expression that means someone feels inferior or believes they've been treated unfairly. For example, "You will never make friends if you go around with a chip on your shoulder". Chip off the old block A person who resembles one parent in appearance or behavior. For example, "His son is just a chip off the old block". Chip in To contribute money, time, or advice to a cause or fund. For example, "Every member of the team chipped in to help pay for the coach's surgery". Cash in your chips To sell something, such as investments, to raise money. It can also be used as slang to mean to die. Bargaining chip Something that can be used to gain an advantage when trying to make a deal or an agreement. For example, "The workers used the threat of a strike as a bargaining chip in their negotiations". Blue chip A term that comes from poker, where chips used in gambling have different colors to represent different dollar amounts. A blue chip is typically the one with the highest value. call in (one's) chipscall in your chipscash (one's) chips incash incash in (one's) chipscash in chipscash in one's chipscash in your chipscheap as chipschipchip (away) at (something)chip and dipchip atchip awaychip buttychip inchip in for (something)chip in on (something)chip in with (something)chip in with (something) for (something)chip offchip off the old blockchip off the old block, achip on one's shoulderchip on one's shoulder, to have achip on shoulderchip shotchip upchipschips and dipchips are down, thechips with everythingcow chipcow chipsget a chip on (one's) shoulderhand in (one's) chipshas had its chipshave a chip on (one's) shoulderhave a chip on your shoulderhave had (one's) chipshave had your chipsin the chipsin the moneylet the chips fall (where they may)let the chips fall where they maymint chocolate chippass in (one's) chipspiss on (someone's) chipsput a chip on (one's) shoulderput all (of) (one's) chips on the tablespit chipsthe chips are downwhen the chips are down "All that and a bag of chips"---this phrase is usually a slam against someone who is conceited or arrogant. Perhaps the phrase originates in the concept of completeness; a meal complete with a "bag of chips".Aug 11, 2014

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎ . 　　　★ 　° :. ★　 * • ○ ° ★ .　 * 　.　 　　　　　. 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 🌫️

whumpster-dumpster: A whumpee stirring from a deep, medicine-induced sleep to the sound of muffled voices. Trying to pry their eyes open to see who it is but their resolve is too weak, their eyelids too heavy. Their head lolls sideways on the pillow as they draw a slow, sluggish breath, mumbling unintelligibly. Where am I? What’s happening? Their mouth won’t properly form the words. The voices pause, hesitate, and then a warm hand is stroking their face and hair. “No, no…shhhh. Shh, it’s alright. It’s nothing,” a soothing voice whispers, lulling them back down. “Go back to sleep.”

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

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

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

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

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

Sleep When You're in Pain (Chronic or Acute) Sleep on your back if you have lower back pain. Some individuals may benefit from placing a pillow under their knees while in this position. Elevating the knees can take pressure off the lower back. Sleep on your side if you have neck pain. Sleep on your left side to improve your digestion. People who find side sleeping helpful during their period may benefit from placing a pillow between their knees. Experimenting with different pillow positions can help. If you have stomach cramps, try drawing your knees up to your chest in the foetal position, which may help. This position involves lying on the side and tucking the legs toward the chest. You can also sleep on your back propped up with pillows to relieve heartburn. If you have pain due to gas, try laying on your back to relieve some of the pressure off of your stomach. https://www.wikihow.health/Sleep-when-You%27re-in-Pain

ᔆʷᵉᵉᵗ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐˢ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵈᵉˢᵗʳᵒʸᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ⸴ ˢᵒ ʰᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖⁱⁿᵉᵃᵖᵖˡᵉ ʰᵒᵐᵉ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ' *ᵃʷᵏʷᵃʳᵈ ᶜʰᵘᶜᵏˡᵉ* ' ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵒⁿ ⁱⁿ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵒᵖᵉⁿˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᵀʰᵃⁿᵏˢ⸴ ᵏⁱᵈ; ᴵ'ᵐ ᵗⁱʳᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵈᵉˢᵗʳᵒʸᵉᵈ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ˢᵗᵃʸ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐᵉ⸴ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿᵗ‧" ᴴᵉ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵈⁱᵈ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᵉˣʰᵃᵘˢᵗᵉᵈ‧ "ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵐʸ ᵇᵉᵈ? ᵀʰᵉʳᵉ'ˢ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᵒᶠ ᵘˢ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵘʳᵉ‧" ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵖᵘᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵈ⸴ ᵖᵘˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇˡᵃⁿᵏᵉᵗˢ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵒʳᵏ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠᵃᵘˡᵗ‧ ᴵ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵐᵉᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿʸ ʰᵃʳᵐ ⁱⁿ ᵐʸ ˢᶜʰᵉᵐᵉˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵇᵘˢⁱⁿᵉˢˢ ˢᵒᵐᵉʰᵒʷ ᵃⁿᵈ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ˢᵉᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃˢ ᵐʸ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ! ᴱᵛᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ᴵ'ᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ˡᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵃʷᵃʸ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ‧‧‧" "ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵐᵃⁿᵃᵍᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉʰᵒʷ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵈᵃʸ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ‧ ᴵ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵇᵉ ᵃ ˢᵘᵖᵉʳ⁻ᵛⁱˡˡᵃⁱⁿ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵇᵃᵈ ᵍᵘʸˢ ᶜᵃⁿ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ˢᵒᶠᵗ ˢᵖᵒᵗˢ‧ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵐʸ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵒʳ ᵍʳᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵉˣᵖˡᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ⸴ ᵉʸᵉ ᶜˡᵒˢⁱⁿᵍ‧ "ᴵᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵃⁿʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵉˡˢᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵗᵃˡᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ; ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ⸴ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ʳᵉᵖˡʸ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ?" ' *ˢⁿᵒʳⁱⁿᵍ* ' "‧‧‧ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᶠᵃˢᵗ‽" ᵂʰⁱˢᵖᵉʳᵉᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵘᵖᵒⁿ ʰᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ ˢⁿᵒʳᵉᵈ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ˡⁱᵏᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃˡᵏ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᵍᵉᵗ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗᵐᵃʳᵉˢ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐᵗ ᵒᶠ ᴾᵉᵃʳˡ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗʰᵉ ʷʰᵃˡᵉ‧ ᴵⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐ⸴ ˢʰᵉ ᵗʳᵃᵖᵖᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧ 'ᔆᵗᵒᵖ' ʰᵉ ˢᵃʸˢ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐ‧ ᴾᵉᵃʳˡ ᵒⁿˡʸ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ʳᵉˢᵖᵒⁿˢᵉ‧ ᔆᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿˡʸ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢʰᵒʷˢ ᵘᵖ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐ‧ 'ᴴᵉˡᵖ ᵐᵉ!' ᴴᵉ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐ‧ 'ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ʰᵉˡᵖ ʸᵒᵘʳˢᵉˡᶠ!' ᴿᵉᵖˡⁱᵉᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗᵐᵃʳᵉ ˢᵗʳᵉˢˢᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ʷʰⁱᵐᵖᵉʳ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ ᴴⁱˢ ᶜʳⁱᵉˢ ʷᵒᵏᵉ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵘᵖ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ?" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃᵗ ᵘᵖ‧ ʸᵉᵗ ᵐᵉᵃⁿʷʰⁱˡᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐ ᴾᵉᵃʳˡ ʰᵃᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ᵇᵘʳⁿ ᵒⁿ ᶠⁱʳᵉ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᶠˡᵃᵐᵉˢ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ⸴ ᵇᵘʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ‧ 'ᴳᵒᵒᵈᵇʸᵉ!' ᴾᵉᵃʳˡ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ ᴹᵉᵃⁿʷʰⁱˡᵉ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵃˢ ˢʰᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃⁱᵈ⸴ ᵈⁱˢᵗʳᵉˢˢᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ‧ ᴴᵒʷᵉᵛᵉʳ⸴ ʰⁱˢ ˢᶜᵃʳᵉᵈ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ʷᵃʸ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐ‧ 'ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ!' ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃˡˡ ᵒᵘᵗ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᶜᵒⁿˢᵘᵐᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠˡᵃᵐᵉˢ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐ‧ 'ᴺᵒ!' 'ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ‧‧‧' ᴾᵉᵃʳˡ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ "ᴺᵒ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ⸴ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ʷᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʷ ʰⁱᵐ ˢⁱᵗ ᵘᵖ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ʰᵉʸ⸴ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ˢᵃᶠᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐᵉ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴿᵉᵃˡⁱˢⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʰᵃᵈ ᵃ ᵇᵃᵈ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵉᵐᵇʳᵃᶜᵉᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ; ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐᵗ ᴾᵉᵃʳˡ ʰᵘʳᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃˡˡ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵐᵉ‧" "ᴵᵗ ʷᵃˢ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵃ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐ; ⁱᵗ’ˢ ᵃˡˡ ᵒᵛᵉʳ‧ ᴵ ᶜᵃʳᵉ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠᵃᵘˡᵗ‧ ᴴᵒⁿᵉˢᵗˡʸ ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᴾᵉᵃʳˡ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵉᵃᵗˢ ᵐᵉᵃᵗ⸴ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ʷᵒʳʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ⁱᶠ ᵒⁿ ʰᵉʳ ᵈⁱᵉᵗ‧ ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʰᵉʳ‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᶜʳⁱᵉˢ ᵈʷⁱⁿᵈˡᵉ ᵃˢ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵒˡᵈˢ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ‧ "ᵂʰᵉⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᴵ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ᵇᵃᵈ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐ ᴵ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᶠᵘⁿ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍˢ⸴ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ʲᵉˡˡʸᶠⁱˢʰⁱⁿᵍ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃ ˢᵐᵃˡˡ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᵉⁿʲᵒʸ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵃˢ ˢᶜⁱᵉⁿᵗⁱᶠⁱᶜ ⁱⁿᵛᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ⸴ ᵒʳ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᶜᵃᵘˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵛᵉⁿᵍᵉᵃⁿᶜᵉ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵉⁿᵉᵐⁱᵉˢ; ʷʰᵃᵗᵉᵛᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ᵉⁿʲᵒʸᵃᵇˡᵉ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ⸴ ʰᵘᵍᵍⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴵˢ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ ʰᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵈᵒ⸴ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ‧

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

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

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

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

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

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

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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣤⡤⠶⠖⠒⠒⠶⢤⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⠶⠛⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠳⢦⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣤⠤⣦⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⠶⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠲⢤⣤⣤⠤⠤⠶⠖⠚⠛⠉⠉⠀⣸⡏⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣤⠀⠀⢀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠶⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⡿⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⣀⠀⣰⡿⢿⡆⠀⢸⣿⢦⣀⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡿⠁⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⢞⣫⣭⣭⣉⡙⢿⣄⠘⣿⣄⠀⣿⡶⢛⣉⣉⡙⠳⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⡿⢡⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡝⣧⠈⠻⣦⡸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡸⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡾⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⣄⣀⣀⣠⣤⣤⣤⡤⠤⠤⠶⠶⠒⠛⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠁⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢹⣧⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⣻⡇⠀⠀⠺⣯⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠹⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⡆⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⣾⠟⠀⢸⡟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢡⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⢶⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠈⠻⢦⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⠋⢿⣆⡛⠿⣿⣿⡿⠟⢋⣼⠏⠀⠀⠀⠻⢦⣍⣉⣉⣭⡶⠛⣽⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠳⢦⣄ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠻⢦⣄⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⠀⠀⣈⠛⠶⠤⠤⠴⠞⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠁⠄⠒⣰⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⣤⠞⠋ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⢳⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢧⣄⡓⠄⠈⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⠶⠋⠉⠛⠒⠒⠒⠚⠛⠋⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⢳⡶⠶⠤⢤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⠤⠤⠶⠖⠚⠋⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⢶⣆⠀⢀⣾⠇⠀⠀⢠⡿⠚⠛⣾⠛⠋⠉⢻⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣟⣀⣀⣀⣀⣤⣤⠴⠶⠛⠋⠁⢸⡟⣠⡾⠃⠀⠀⢠⡿⠁⠀⠀⡟⠀⠀⠀⠈⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⠟⠋⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⠇⠀⠀⢀⣟⢦⡀⠀⠀⠸⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⠏⠀⠀⠀⢸⡏⣇⠈⣲⡄⠀⢿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠘⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠶⢤⣤⣤⣤⣄⣈⣇⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⠶⠞⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠰⣿⣿⣿⡿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣧⣶⣦⣤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⠛⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢀⠀⢀⡀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠒⢰⠆⠀⠐⠃⢒⠐⠂⠀⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

𝖳𝖮 𝖢𝖧𝖠𝖭𝖦𝖤 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖶𝖮𝖱𝖫𝖣 pt. 5 Sequel to Autism And All by NeuroFabulous https://emojicombos.com/autism-and-all Read the Autism And All one first! Karen sits on the bed, her presence a comforting weight. "Would you like me to stay?" she asks, her voice gentle. Plankton nods, his body still tight with pain. He closes his eye, his mind racing with the discomfort. He tries to focus on his breath, in and out, in and out. But the throb in his mouth is a constant reminder of agony that threatens to overwhelm. Then, Plankton starts to talk to himself to self-soothe. "It's safe," he whispers. "Can water's just fine." Karen watches him, knowing this is a way of regaining control, his mind trying to find peace in order to rest. She knows that the pain, the sensory assault, the confusion—it's all too much. But she also knows that he has the willpower to push through. "Was do it" Plankton whispers to himself. "I told him but he didn't listen," he murmurs, his thoughts racing with the memory of the fidget toy. "It's my fault," he adds. "Not my place to correct him, do not touch." His words are a jumble of regret and frustration. "It's okay," Plankton says again. "The healing safe. It's just a feeling." He repeats this mantra, his breath evening out. Karen can see the tension in his shoulders easing, his grip on the ice pack loosening as his body relaxes. "You're doing great," Karen whispers. "Just rest." And with that, Plankton's body gives in to the call of sleep, his breaths trailing off into soft snores. Karen watches her husband with a mix of love and sadness. Chip lingers by the door, his curiosity piqued. He wonders if his dad's autism is the reason behind it. With tentative steps, Chip enters the room. Karen takes his hand in hers, and he follows her out of the room and in to the hallway. "Mom," he starts, his voice barely a whisper. "Why is Dad autistic?" Karen looks down at him, her expression thoughtful. "Well, Chip," she says, her voice soft. "Your dad was born that way." Chip nods. "But w---" "Autism is something that develops in the brain before birth," Karen continues. "It's like how some people are right-handed and others are left-handed. It's just how his brain is wired." Chip looks at her with a frown. "But why did Dad...?" "Why did it happen?" Karen finishes his question. She takes a deep breath, preparing to explain. "You see, sometimes during pregnancy or childbirth, something small can change you. When his mom was giving birth, his brain might have gotten a little squeezed and then not enough oxygen. It's just the way his brain grew because of that, that's all." Chip nods slowly, trying to understand. "So as dad was being born..." "Yes," Karen says, her voice soothing. "His brain was forming its connections, and that little squeeze changed the way his brain makes those connections. It's like if you're building a Lego castle and one piece gets bent. It doesn't mean the castle can't be amazing, it's just a tiny part of it that's a bit different." Chip looks up at his mom, his eyes wide. "But does that mean I could be like Dad if I squ--" "No, Chip," she says, cutting off his words gently. "It's not that simple. Autism is just nothing you can catch or change, and it's not something you need to be afraid of." Chip nods, his gaze still fixed on her. "But why does he get so upset sometimes?" Karen sighs. "Because the world can be a very overwhelming place for him, Chip. His brain picks up on every little thing— sounds, smells, sights—it's all so intense. And sometimes, those things get too much, and his brain can't keep up. It's like when you're playing a video game and the screen is flashing too fast—it's hard to focus." "But why does he get mad?" Chip persists. Karen kneels down to look him in the eye. "It's not that he's mad, honey. It's just his way of dealing with it. Imagine if you had a headache and someone was shining a bright light in your face—you'd want them to stop, right? It's like that, but with anything." Chip nods, understanding dawning. "So, when the fidget was making noise, it was like a headache for Dad?" Karen smiles. "Exactly. And when he tells you something is too much, it's not that he's upset with you—it's his brain telling him he needs a break." Plankton's snores from the bedroom remind them of the present. "Let's let Dad rest," Karen says, steering Chip towards his own room. "But what about his teeth?" Chip asks, his voice laced with worry. Karen's smile is reassuring. "They'll feel better soon, and we'll have to be extra gentle with him. No loud noises, no surprises. Ok?" Chip nods. In the quiet of the living room, Karen and Chip begin to set up a recovery area for Plankton—a space free from the chaos that could easily overwhelm his fragile state. They gather his favorite pillows, a soft blanket, and dim the lights. Chip wants to make sure his dad feels safe. On the coffee table, they lay out a tray with a glass of water. Karen knows that it's important not to startle Plankton, that he might need help getting up without disturbing his mouth. "Let's go to see him." Karen says. As they enter the bedroom, Plankton's snores have subsided into a gentle rhythm. Chip tiptoes over, his eyes wide. He's seen his dad tired before, but this is different. He looks smaller, somehow, more vulnerable. Gently, he touches his dad's arm.. Plankton's eye snaps open, his body jerking upright. The movement sends a shock of pain through his mouth. "Agh!" he yelps, his hands shooting up to clutch his cheeks. Chip jumps back, his eyes wide with alarm. "Dad!" He says loudly. But now Plankton's even more overwhelmed, and Karen notices his somewhat distant gaze. "Chip, remember what we talked about," Karen whispers. "Use a quiet voice." Chip nods and speaks more softly. "Dad, are you ok?" Plankton blinks, his mind racing. "Dad?" Chip tries again, his voice barely a murmur. Plankton's breath hitches. "It's me, Chip! You're home. You had surgery. Remembe---" But Plankton's eye darts around the room, his mind a swirling vortex of pain and disorientation as Chip talks to fast. Karen quickly moves to his side, her touch grounding him. "It's ok," she whispers. "You're safe. You're home." And then, he starts to talk to himself. "No...no...no...yes...yes...yes," he murmurs. Karen knows that he's retreated due to the overwhelm. It's happened before, where he's seemingly on autopilot. "Water's okay, can't talk right now," Plankton whispers to the empty space. His eye darts back to Chip, then to the ceiling. "No, no, no," he says again, his voice getting quieter. Karen's heart aches, seeing her husband so lost in his own head. She's seen this before—his autism taking control when the world was too much to handle. Chip however doesn't really understand. "Dad?" Chip whispers, his voice shaky. Plankton doesn't respond, his eye locked on the ceiling fan spinning above them. "It's ok," Karen says, her voice a soft reminder. "Sometimes his brain is on backup." She strokes his arm gently, knowing his semiconscious state isn't abnormal for him, as Plankton's monologue continues. "Need to count...one...two... three..." His voice trails off. Chip watches. "Is he ok?" He asks, his voice trembling. Karen nods. "This is his way of dealing with things," she whispers. "Let's just give him some time." Plankton's eye darts between them, his mouth forming words without thought. "Red...blue...green," he says, as if naming colors he's seeing in the air. "Big...small...far... near." Karen knows he's not really seeing anything, his mind a kaleidoscope of sensory input that's difficult to process. "Why?" Plankton asks no one in particular. "Will it be the one? It's just a feeling," he murmurs, trying to convince himself. Karen understands it's his brain's attempt to organize the overwhelming stimuli, but Chip looks on with a mix of concern and confusion. "It's ok," Chip whispers, his hand hovering over his dad's. He wants to help, but doesn't know how. Karen smiles at him, nodding. "You can talk to him, buddy. Just keep it low." Chip nods and sits on the edge of the bed. "Hey Dad," Chip says, his voice barely above a whisper. Plankton's eye flips over to him, but he doesn't seem to see him. "It's me, Chip. We're here," Chip says, trying to provide comfort.

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dentist: /-----| \-' | Q | )C ~\/\ | \\_ \ | \_77 |\ | ejm 96 |`` \ \ | """ ~ ~ === -------______ | ) +++++. | \' ental+ | Q rgeon+ | )C ~\/\ +++++' | \\_ \ ___ | \_77 |\ | EJM 96 | |`` \ \ | ------- """ ~ ~ o-o

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

Sometimes, stomach acid goes up into your esophagus, the tube that connects your mouth and stomach. That’s called heartburn. If it’s also an issue, sleep with your head slightly raised. It may also help to avoid or limit: Peppermint, chocolate, garlic, and tomatoes Tight clothes Meals within 2 or 3 hours of bedtime Lying down right after a meal Instead: Sleep on your left side. This position seems to help reduce nighttime heartburn symptoms Wear loose-fitting clothes. Tight clothes, especially near your waist, can put pressure on your stomach, leading to heartburn symptoms. Chew gum. Chewing gum encourages the production of saliva, which can soothe your esophagus and wash acid down into your stomach. Choose a flavor other than peppermint, which may worsen heartburn in some people. While the main symptom of GERD is reflux, a number of symptoms may accompany this condition. Heartburn: A painful burning sensation in the chest is the most common symptom Trusted Source Merck Manual First published in 1899 as a small reference book for physicians and pharmacists, the Manual grew in size and scope to become one of the most widely used comprehensive medical resources for professionals and consumers. View Source of GERD, but not all cases of GERD involve heartburn. Regurgitation: Another common symptom of GERD is regurgitation, which means a small amount of stomach acid and sometimes bits of food come up into the mouth or back of the throat. Sore throat: When stomach acid rises to the mouth and throat, it can cause coughing and a feeling of choking. This often leads to a sore throat and, for some people, difficulty swallowing, known as dysphagia. Chest pain: On top of the discomfort from heartburn, GERD can cause radiating chest pain

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

https://www.rcoa.ac.uk/sites/default/files/documents/2022-06/12-SedationExp2021web.pdf

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3378217/

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

https://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/snoring/symptoms-causes/syc-20377694

A LIFE OF DIVERSITY i (Autistic author) "You know, Shel, just put yourself out there. You think to much! Just steal a patty from the krusty krab, and bring it back. No inventions, just believe. I'll wait out front." Karen says. Sheldon Plankton, whose ambition often outstripped his grasp, took a deep breath and nodded. It was a simple enough plan, he thought, and maybe, just maybe, it would be enough. For years he'd been trying to outsmart Mr. Krabs, crafting ingenious contraptions and elaborate schemes to swipe the Krabby Patty secret formula. Yet here he was, standing in the shadow of the gleaming neon sign of the Chum Bucket, his own restaurant, contemplating the unthinkable: a straight-up heist. He tiptoed to the Krabby Krab, eye darting back and forth for any signs of movement. Karen, ever the impatient one, was pacing back and forth outside the Chum Bucket. She had been waiting for what felt like an eternity. "What's taking him so long?" she murmured to herself, her frustration building. Meanwhile, Plankton took a final shaky breath and slid open the kitchen window, his heart racing. The scent of greasy fryers and salty ocean air filled his nostrils. He reached out, his tiny hand trembling, and snatched the Krabby Patty that lay unguarded on the counter. With the stolen patty in hand, Plankton's confidence grew. He had done it; the secret was within his grasp! He turned to leave, but his elation was cut short when a shadow fell over him. He looked up to find Mr. Krabs standing there, his eyes narrowed and his claw raised. "Plankton, I knew it was you!" he bellowed. Plankton froze. Mr. Krabs lunged at him, but Plankton was quick. He dashed under the cash register, the Krabby Patty clutched to his chest like a football player crossing the finish line. "You'll never get me!" he yelled, his voice echoing in the quiet restaurant. But Krabs was persistent, his claws snapping shut just millimeters from Plankton's antennae. With a cunning smile, Mr. Krabs stepped back eyeing the cash register. "Maybe not," he said reaching over the counter and hoisting the heavy metal contraption off its stand. Plankton's eye went wide with horror as he realized what Krabs intended to do. He tried to dodge, but the space was too cramped, and the cash register came down on him like a guillotine blade. The sound of metal on metal reverberated through the kitchen, and the Krabby Patty went flying out of his grasp. Mr. Krabs' victory roar filled the room as Plankton crumpled to the floor, stars dancing in his vision. The impact had been tremendous, and for a moment, he lay dazed and defeated. The cash register's heavy weight had not only knocked him out cold but also left a sizable dent in the floorboards. Outside, Karen's pacing grew more erratic. as "What's keeping him?" she groused. Just as she was about to storm inside, she hears the cash register, which hit Plankton's head. Peering in she saw Plankton lying on the floor. "Plankton?" she shrieked, her voice cracking with panic. Karen opens the door and goes to him. "Plankton! Oh no!" she screamed, voice shaking the very foundation of the Krabby Krab. She rushed over to him, shaking with fear. Plankton's eye closed, and his body was completely still. The Patty lay forgotten. Panic set in, and she began to pat his face. "Plankton, wake up!!" she yelled, echoing through the deserted kitchen. She knew that Plankton could be dramatic, but this was unlike him. He'd always bounced back from Mr. Krabs' traps before, albeit with a bruised ego. There was a pulse, faint but steady. "Thank Neptune," she whispered, her relief palpable. "Plankton, please," Karen begged, a mix of desperation and fear. She knew she had to do something, and fast. But what? Her medical expertise was limited to patching up her husband's bruises from past failed schemes, not dealing with a concussion from a cash register to the head. She then managed to scoop up her unconscious husband and sprinted to the Bikini Bottom Hospital. Once inside the hospital, she explained what happened with the cash register. "We'll do a brain scan." They said. Karen laid Plankton on the hospital bed. Finally a doctor approached with a solemn expression. "The brain scan results are in." Karen nodded for him to go on. "It seems your husband has suffered significant brain damage from impact," the doctor continued, fidgeting with a clipboard. "The good news is that he will wake up, but... your husband has experienced severe brain trauma. While he will regain consciousness, it appears that he may have developed permanent autism." "What does that mean?" she managed to whisper. The doctor explained that while Plankton would still be able to talk and/or communicate, his interactions and reactions to sensory would be significantly affected. "But he'll still be the same Plankton?" The doctor nods. "In many ways, yes. His personality, his memories, they should all be intact. But his ability to process, to understand and respond appropriately... those might be altered. It's a complex condition, Mrs. Plankton. He can go home whence he wakes up." Karen nodded numbly, mind racing with the implications. As she sat by Plankton's bedside the hospital lights flickered, and the constant beeping of the heart monitor was the only company she had. The quiet was broken her husband's eye fluttering open. "Karen?" he croaked, his voice hoarse from the trauma. Her heart leaped at the sound, and she took his hand, squeezing it tightly. "I'm here," she said, her voice cracking. "How do you feel?" Plankton's gaze darted around the room. "Where am I?" he asked, his voice a mix of confusion and fear. "You're at the hospital, sweetie," Karen replied, voice gentle and soothing. "You had hit your head on the cash register at the Krabby Krab." Karen said, her voice shaking slightly. "Mr. Krabs hit you." Plankton blinked rapidly, trying to process her words. "Cash... register?" he murmured, voice sounding distant and confused. Karen nodded, her eyes never leaving his. The room was a cacophony of sounds: the beep of the monitor, the rustle of nurses' shoes, and the distant wail of a siren. Plankton's senses seemed to amplify, each noise stabbing at his brain like a thousand tiny needles. "What happened to me?" he asked, voice small and scared. Karen took a deep breath preparing herself to explain the gravity of the situation. "You hit your head," she began, "and now, the doctor says you have... acquired a neurodisability." Plankton stared at her, his eyes unfocused. "Neuro... what?" he repeated. Karen took a deep breath, her heart heavy. "It's like your brain is wired differently now. You might see things, hear things, feel things more intensely. And sometimes, you might not understand people, or process differently." "Does it... does it mean I'm broken?" he asked, voice barely a whisper. "No, Plankton," she said firmly, "You're not broken. You're just... different. And we'll figure this out together."

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

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

Muscles relax during sleep, including those in the face. The nervous system relaxes when we go into a deep sleep, which can also cause our facial muscles to relax. This can lead to our mouths falling open and drool escaping from the sides of our mouths. Also saliva can spill out of your mouth as drool when your facial muscles relax in your sleep like if the mouth falls open. Since the muscles around your mouth are relaxed, your mouth can be relaxed enough that saliva slips out. Once in sleep cycle, your body’s muscles, including those in your face and mouth, start to relax, often resulting in less swallowing and more drool. But sometimes when you're asleep, your brain forgets to tell your throat and mouth muscles to swallow, causing saliva to commute from your mouth to your pillow. As you sleep, your body enters a state of relaxation and restoration. This means that your muscles relax – including all of the muscles and tissues in the airway. When these tissues relax, they may fall back into the airway, partially blocking your ability to breathe normally. Sometimes causes your throat to compress as your tongue falls further back into your airway and the open space behind your tongue and soft palate is reduced. Inhaled air becomes turbulent. Directly inhaled air vibrates the soft tissues at the back of your mouth Though breathing is an involuntary function and it may be difficult to control how your breathe while sleeping, if you sleep on your side, the saliva collects in the side of your mouth and the reflex does not kick in to get rid of the drool. However, if you sleep on your back, saliva collects in the back of the throat and leads to automatic swallowing action. If you breathe through partially blocked nose, greater suction forces are created that can cause your throat to collapse and bring on snoring where your uvula and soft palate start to flap. When we fall asleep, many muscles in our body relax. This is true of the muscles in our airway, since not fully conscious. When you doze off and progress from a light sleep to a deep sleep, the muscles in the roof of your mouth (soft palate), tongue and/or throat relax more. This usually happens when the muscles in your body (including your face) relax during sleep, especially during your REM cycle. When this happens, your jaw falls slack and your mouth falls open.

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

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

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

He felt his eyelid grow heavy to anesthesia. "Alright, Mr. Plankton, you're gonna start feeling sleepy," the doctor's voice echoed. The world around him grew fuzzy, sounds becoming muffled and indistinct. His head lolled, body slack. The nurse's grew blurry, darkness before not even nothingness. Karen, his wife, sat by him. Finally, the doctor stepped back, turned and gave her a thumbs up. The nurse began to clean Plankton's face, wiping away the excess saliva and bleeding with gentle touch. Karen follows as they wheel him out. His bed was pushed into a small cubicle, his breathing slow and even. In stumbled SpongeBob. Karen smiles. "The surgery went well, he's just sleeping it off," she assured. SpongeBob's taking in the beeping monitors. "What's all this for?" he asks, curiosity piqued. "To make sure he's ok while he's asleep," Karen explained. "The doctor said he'd be out for a little while." The yellow sponge nodded, his gaze lingering on the small wads of gauze peeking out from the sides of Plankton's mouth. "What's that?" he asks. "It's to help absorb.." Sponge Bob took in the sight of Plankton, who had begun to drool slightly onto the pillow beneath his head. The saliva pooled. "Oh no, Plankton. You're drooling!" Sponge Bob watched as drool continued to form like a thin string connecting Plankton's mouth to the pillow. Karen chuckled softly. "It's normal, Sponge Bob. He won't feel it as he's asleep." SpongeBob nodded, but curiosity remained. "Can I... I mean, should I... wipe it up?" he asks. Karen laughs. "It's ok, they'd take care of it. Just let him rest." "I promise to be super gentle" Karen nodded, a small smile playing. "Alright. Just be careful." His movements were deliberate, eyes never leaving Plankton's mouth as he approached. The drool strand grew longer, a tiny bridge between his friend and the pillow. The droplet fell away, landing on the pillow with a soft splat. Plankton stirred slightly but didn't wake. "It's fine. He's going to be a bit out of it when he wakes up anyway. Why don't you try talking to him while we wait for him to wake? It might help him feel more at ease." "Hey it's Sponge Bob. You're ok, just having a little nap. No Krabby Patties to steal right now," he added with a chuckle. Plankton's eye began to flutter, a sure sign that he was slowly coming back to consciousness. His body twitched, the anesthesia wearing off. "Looks like he's waking up," she said. Karen leaned closer, her hand reaching out to gently squeeze his. "Honey, it's me," she whispered. "You're ok." Plankton's unfocused and glazed. "Where... what... happened?" he mumbled. "You had wisdom teeth removed. You're in recovery," she said, voice soothing. Plankton blinked. "Wis...wis...what?" "You had a little...uh...dental appointment," SpongeBob said. "Teeth...gone?" he mumbled, still groggy. "You're fine," she assured. "I feel... funny," he giggled, voice silly. "Just relax, Plankton," Karen said. "But...but I wanna...see!" Plankton protested, arms flailing weakly. "Plankton, you need rest." "But I'm not tired!" he exclaimed, as his head lolled back onto the pillow. "I... I want to dance," he said, voice still slurred, which only resulted in more drool escaping. "First, you gotta get better," she said, voice earnest. Plankton's giggles grew, his eye half-closed. "But I'm already the best... at... at... at... " he mumbled, trailing off. "It's anesthesia," the nurse chimed in. "It can make people say some funny things. You're just feeling a bit loopy, Plankton. You'll be back to your usual self soon." Plankton's giggles grew softer, his eye struggling to stay open. "But... but... I'm not tired," he protested weakly, his voice a mere whisper. His eyelid began to droop once more. Sponge Bob leaned in. "You just had surgery, Plankton. You need to rest," he said firmly. Plankton's giggles turned into snores, his tiny body giving in despite his protests. "He's going to be out for a while," the nurse said. "Anesthesia can take time to wear off completely." Karen nodded, watching his chest rise and fall with each snore. Sponge Bob reached out and lightly patted Plankton's arm. Plankton's snores grew quieter and stirred, eye cracking. "Wha... SpongeBob?" he mumbled, groggy. Sponge Bob's heart swelled at the sight of his confused expression. "Just keeping you company as you wake." Plankton's eye rolled to the side. "Wha... what are you doing?" he slurred, his voice barely above a whisper. He tried to lift his hand to his mouth, but it flopped back down onto the bed with a limp thud. "Drool? I...I can't stop," he mumbled, his drool pooling around the fresh gauze. Sponge Bob chuckles. "It's ok, Plankton," he said. Plankton's eye narrows. "Not funny," he mumbled, words barely intelligible. Yet as he said it, another string of drool began to form, stretching from his mouth to the pillow. Sponge Bob's chuckles grew. "I know, I know. It's just... you're so... so... " he couldn't find words, laughter took over. Plankton's unable to control his drool. "I'm so...so...so..." he tried to form a coherent thought. "So what, Plankton?" "I'm...I'm not...not...drooling," he managed to say, words barely coherent. But even as he spoke, a new droplet formed at the corner of his mouth. "You sure?" "St...stop," Plankton managed to mumble, his mouth open and drooling again. "It's...it's...embarrassing." Sponge Bob smiled. "I know, you're ok. The surgery went well," he said. "Alright, we can get him ready to go home now," says nurse. They carefully lift Plankton from the bed, body still limp from the anesthesia. "You ok?" "Mm-hmm," Plankton mumbled, head lolling to one side. He struggled to keep his eye open, but the medication was too strong. Plankton's eye drooped shut once more, his snores echoing through the hall. "Whoa, there he goes again…" "He's still pretty out of it," she said. Plankton's head lolled to the side, his mouth hanging open. "Whoa, Plankton, wake up," Sponge Bob said, gently shaking his shoulder. "Mmph," Plankton mumbled, his eye cracking open. "Where...are we?" "Almost to the car," Karen said. "Just a bit longer." But Plankton's eyelid grew heavier. The nurse disappeared through the doors, leaving Karen and Sponge Bob to maneuver Plankton into a more upright position. His head kept flopping to one side, his snores grew louder. "Come on, Plankton, stay with us," Karen urged. Sponge Bob leaned close. "You ok?" he asked, patting Plankton's shoulder. Plankton's head lolled to the side, eye half- open. "Mmph...tired," he mumbled. Karen managed to get him in, his body collapsing into the seat like a ragdoll. She buckled him in. "You're gonna be ok," she whispered. Sponge Bob climbed into the backseat. Karen started the engine. "Let's get him home." The car ride was a blur of Plankton's snores and occasional mumble. Sponge Bob sat in the back, his hand on Plankton's shoulder, keeping his friend from lolling too far to the side. Each time Plankton nodded off, his mouth would droop, and gauze would slip out. "Plankton, gotta keep it in." Plankton mumbled something incoherent, his mouth still open and drooling. Sponge Bob leaned in closer, his hand ready to catch the gauze if it fell out again. Plankton's eye fluttered open, looking around the car. "Just stay with us, ok?" Sponge Bob nodded, hand on Plankton's shoulder. He watched as Plankton's eye drooped, the gauze slipping again. He leaned over and gently pushed it back. "We're almost there." Karen chuckled from the driver's seat. Sponge Bob’s grip on Plankton's shoulder tightening slightly. "Want to play a game?" "Mmph...game?" he mumbled. "I spy with my little eye, something..." But Plankton's head had already dropped back, snores echoing. Karen glanced in the mirror. "I think he's out for the count," she said. Sponge Bob was still vigilant, making sure Plankton didn't tumble out of the car. With Karen's help, they managed to get him to the couch. Sponge Bob helped prop Plankton up, careful not to jostle him too much. Everything’s just fine.

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

Her strongest memory was of the smell of rain on hot pavement. It was a scent that didn't just fill her nose but seemed to soak into her skin, bringing with it a sense of comfort she hadn't felt in a very long time. Bluey Heeler was a creature of the outdoors, a dog with a heart that pounded in sync with the vast wilderness she called home. Her fur, a blend of blue and gray, blended seamlessly with the shadows of the eucalyptus trees that stretched tall beside her family's modest house. Rainy days meant puddles to splash in and the rich scent of earth coming alive around her. But it had been a long time since she'd felt the cool kiss of rainwater on her snout. Now, Bluey was in the city, surrounded by the concrete jungle, a stark contrast to the boundless plains she'd once known. The smells here were overwhelming, a mishmash of exhaust fumes, fast food, and a million different creatures packed into a space so tight it made her feel claustrophobic. The noises were constant, a never-ending din that made her flinch and whine in the quiet moments of the night. Yet, amidst the chaos, she had found a purpose, a reason to push through the fear and confusion. Her new friend, named Mia, had taken her in, offering her a chance at a new life filled with love and companionship. Mia was as vibrant as the flowers she tended in the small patch of earth outside their apartment. Despite the stark difference in their sizes, they shared a bond that transcended the confines of the urban sprawl. Each day, Mia would take her on adventures through the parks, allowing her to feel the grass under her paws and chase the occasional squirrel up a tree. It wasn't the same as the open ranges she'd left behind, but it was a taste of freedom she hadn't known in weeks. One evening, as the two sat on the windowsill watching the rain dance in the streetlights, a distant howl echoed through the concrete valleys. It was faint, almost lost in the symphony of city sounds, but to Bluey, it was as clear as if it had come from right beside her. Her ears perked up, and she let out a soft whine, longing for the days when she could have joined the chorus. Mia looked at her, concern etched on her features. "What is it, girl?" she asked, her tail thumping against the sill as she tried to convey the ache in her soul. The howl grew stronger, more insistent, and suddenly, Bluey realized it wasn't just any howl. It was her sister, Bingo. The same melody that had serenaded their nights back home, now calling to her from across the miles. Bingo's howl was a beacon, a thread of their shared past that had somehow found its way to her here in the city. Mia's eyes widened as she saw the recognition in Bluey's eyes. "Is that...?" she began, but the question was unnecessary. Bingo came in. Without a second thought, Bluey leaped. She didn't care about the water soaking her fur or the cold seeping into her bones. All that mattered was finding Bingo. The city streets were a labyrinth of wet reflections, the neon lights playing tricks on her eyes as she sprinted through the rain. The scent grew stronger with every bound, her nose leading her through alleys and across busy roads, dodging puddles that mirrored the chaos above. Mia, soaked and panting, struggled to keep up. Then, a shadow moving swiftly in the rain. Bluey's heart leaped. That was Bingo! She picked up the pace, her paws barely touching the ground. The howl grew closer, turning into a series of excited barks as the two sisters rounded a corner and locked eyes. Bingo's tail wagged a mile a minute, and she barrels towards Bluey, knocking her over in a joyous reunion of wet dog and muddy paws. They rolled together, the sound of their laughter piercing the rain-soaked silence. Mia skidded to a stop, panting and smiling through the downpour. She watched as the two sisters played, their tails creating a whirlwind of joy in the dim streetlight. The sight was enough to warm her to the core, making the dampness of her fur coat feel like a small price to pay for this moment. "Bingo," she called out, her voice a mix of happiness and relief. "You found her, Bluey!"

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

"Hi, my boss Mr. Krabs told me I need to work on my people skills and to volunteer.." SpongeBob says in the surgery room before recognizing Plankton and Karen. Plankton lay on the operating table, a small tube delivering medicine that kept him asleep. Karen sat by him. "Plankton‽" "Plankton's had his wisdom teeth removed." She glanced at the sleeping Plankton with affection. Sponge Bob leaned closer. He poked Plankton gently. "Hey, Plankton; wake up, buddy!" No response. Plankton's breathing remained slow and even, the rhythm unchanged by Sponge Bob's nudges. Karen's robotic hand shot up to stop Sponge Bob's poking. "He's not going to wake up anytime soon, Sponge Bob. The anesthesia will wear off in a couple of hours," she explained in her usual monotone. Sponge Bob's bubbly demeanor deflated a bit. He had never seen Plankton so... peaceful. Usually the tiny villain was full of mischief and plotting his next Krabby Patty heist. But the sight of his arch-nemesis helpless and snoring? "Karen, do you think a little light chat would help him wake up?" "Sponge Bob, the purpose of anesthesia is to keep him unconscious during surgery and ensure a painless recovery. Your efforts are futile." Undeterred, Sponge Bob leaned in closer. "Come on, Plankton. Time to wakey-wakey!" He waved his hands in front of Plankton's face, creating a gentle breeze that tickled his antennae. Still, Plankton remained steadfast in his slumber, oblivious to the world around him. Karen sighed again, the closest she ever got to expressing exasperation. "As I said, Sponge Bob, he's under the effects of anesthesia. There's nothing you can do to wake him up." She went back to reading her magazine, the glow from her screen casting a soft blue light on her metallic features. Sponge Bob studied Plankton's sleeping features. His mouth was open just enough to reveal his top row of teeth, and Sponge Bob had to stifle a giggle when a small bubble of drool formed at the corner of his mouth. "You know," he mused aloud, "I never realized Plankton had such a... cute snoring sound." The statement hung in the air, and even the normally stoic Karen couldn't resist cracking a smile. "Cute is hardly the word I'd use," she murmured, but the warmth in her voice belied the affection she had for her partner. Sponge Bob's curiosity grew as he continued to gaze at the unconscious Plankton. He'd seen him in various states before—angry, plotting and occasionally defeated—but never so vulnerable. The sight was strange yet fascinating. He reached out and carefully wiped away the drool. Plankton's head lolled to the side, but he remained asleep. SpongeBob put his head back up on a pillow. Plankton's snores grew quieter as his head settled into the cushioned embrace. "Don't worry, Plankton," he whispered, patting the villain's arm gently. "I'll watch over you." Sponge Bob's curiosity grew stronger as he watched the drool form at the side of Plankton's mouth. He leaned in closer, studying the phenomenon. He'd never noticed Plankton drool before. "It's like a tiny river," he said to himself. What would happen if he tried to touch it? He tapped it lightly. It wobbled, bulging slightly before collapsing back into its original state. He poked the drool again. This time, it grew slightly larger before popping, leaving a tiny, wet splatter on the pillow. Plankton's snores grew louder for a moment, but didn't stir. Sponge Bob couldn't resist a grin spreading across his face. "Looks like he's enjoying his nap," he whispered to Karen who remained engrossed in her magazine. The drool was fascinating—like a living organism, pulsating with every one of Plankton's breaths. He poked it again, gently this time. The drool grew larger, stretching out like a bubble of gum. It was almost mesmerizing. "I wonder if I can make it pop," he thought, eyes gleaming with child-like excitement. Slowly, Sponge Bob poked the drool bubble once more. It grew to the size of a marble before it burst with a tiny splat, splattering on to the pillow. Plankton's snoring remained undisturbed. Sponge Bob could see the light from the ceiling reflecting off the droplet's surface. He waited, the anticipation building, eyes fixed on the wobbling mass. At the last second, he poked it. The bubble popped with a sound that echoed through the quiet room. Plankton's snore caught in his throat for a split second, then resumed with renewed vigor. The splatter was more substantial this time, leaving a wet spot on the pillow. The sudden noise made Karen look up from her magazine. "What on earth are you doing, Sponge Bob?" she asked, voice a mix of annoyance and amusement. "Just... science," Sponge Bob said, his grin unabated. "I'm studying Plankton's snoring pattern... and drool." Karen rolled her digital eyes. "Fine. Just don't wake him. And for the love of Krabby Patties, please don't make a mess." She returned her focus to her magazine, seemingly unfazed by the sight of her arch-enemy playing with drool. Sponge Bob nodded solemnly, his eyes lighting up with newfound purpose. He decided to be more strategic in his scientific endeavor. He would need precision and timing. The drool bubble grew again, this time larger and more robust. Sponge Bob waited, his heart beating faster with every pulse of Plankton's snore. He took a deep breath, held it, and at the peak of the snore's crescendo, poked the bubble with a controlled flick. It exploded with a sound like a miniature water balloon, splattering across Plankton's cheek. The pillow was now a Jackson Pollock canvas of drool. Plankton's snoring hitched but he didn't wake. "Oops," Sponge Bob whispered, giggling quietly. He reached for a near by tissue to clean up the mess, his eyes glancing nervously at Karen. She peeked over her magazine, the corners of her robotic mouth curving upward slightly. "If you're going to play, at least be tidy," she said, voice a blend of reprimand and amusement. Sponge Bob nodded, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Of course, Karen," he whispered back, dabbing at Plankton's cheek with the tissue. The drool was sticky and clung to the fabric but Sponge Bob managed to clean when Plankton's snoring hitched. This time, Plankton's eyes opened a crack, his single eyelid revealing a sliver of his iris before dropping shut again. "What's going on?" he mumbled sleepily. Sponge Bob froze, tissue in mid-air. "Oh nothing," he said quickly, trying to sound nonchalant. "Just admiring your snoring." Plankton's eyelid quivered but remained shut. "Mmph." His mouth moved around the word. "Don't worry, buddy," Sponge Bob said softly patting Plankton's arm. "You're just resting. Nothing to worry about." The half-awake Plankton mumbled something unintelligible, and Sponge Bob took it as a sign to back off. He retreated to his chair, watching as Karen put down her magazine and began to fuss over Plankton, checking his vitals and making sure he was comfortable. For once, he wasn't at odds with Plankton.

In the quiet town of Ponyville, there lived a young earth pony named Applejack. Her coarse, burnt- orange coat was always dotted with freckles of dirt from a hard day's work on her family's farm, Sweet Apple Acres. Applejack was known for her honesty and her strong work ethic, which were as solid as the oak trees that lined the property. Her mane and tail, a fiery shade of red, matched the color of the apples she grew with such care. One sweltering afternoon, Applejack took a break from her chores, wiping the sweat from her brow with a bandana that smelled faintly of apple blossoms. She looked out over the fields, the sun blazing down like a second sun, and sighed. The harvest was coming soon, and she had so much to do. Her thoughts drifted to her friends, Twilight Sparkle, Pinkie Pie, and the others, and she wondered how they were spending their day. Her contemplation was interrupted by the distant sound of hoofbeats. She shielded her eyes from the glare and saw a figure approaching. As it grew closer, she recognized the purple and white unicorn, Twilight Sparkle, her friend and the town's resident scholar. Twilight looked flustered, her eyes wide with excitement. "Applejack!" Twilight called out, her voice strained from the run. "You won't believe what I've found in the library archives!" Applejack leaned against the fence post, her curiosity piqued. "What is it, Twilight?" Twilight's eyes gleamed with excitement. "I've discovered something absolutely fascinating, Applejack. It's about an ancient artifact called the Element of Honesty!" Applejack's ears perked up at the mention of something old and precious. "The Element of Honesty? What's so special about it?" Twilight paused to catch her breath, her flank heaving. "It's one of the six Elements of Harmony," she began, "each representing one of the core virtues of our world. The Element of Honesty is said to be a rare and powerful artifact that can reveal the truth in any situation. It's been lost for centuries, but I found a map leading to its last known location!" Her voice grew hushed as she unfolded the ancient parchment, its edges yellowed with age. The map was intricate, with swirling symbols and cryptic notations that seemed to dance before Applejack's eyes. "It's somewhere in the Whispering Woods," Twilight whispered, her horn glowing softly as she traced a line over the paper. "Well, shucks," Applejack drawled, "that's a place I've heard plenty of tall tales about, but never actually visited." The wood had a reputation for being eerie and mysterious, a place where whispers of forgotten secrets lingered on the breeze. But the prospect of finding something as important as the Element of Honesty was too tempting to pass up. Twilight's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Applejack, I think we should go look for it. It's not far from here, and who knows what kind of trouble it could prevent if it falls into the wrong hooves?" Applejack nodded, a mix of curiosity and apprehension in her gaze. "Alright, but we'd better tell the others. They might want to come along." They gathered their friends, who were equally intrigued by the prospect of an adventure. Pinkie Pie bounced with excitement, Rarity's eyes gleamed with the promise of a new treasure to add to her collection, and Fluttershy looked nervous but determined. Rainbow Dash and Rarity promised to keep an eye on Fluttershy, who had a tendency to get spooked in unfamiliar places. They set out into the late afternoon sun, the map fluttering in Twilight's magic as they followed the path into the wood. The Whispering Woods lived up to their name, with rustling leaves and hushed whispers that seemed to follow them through the dappled shade. The air grew cooler, and the scent of damp earth and pine needles filled their nostrils as they ventured deeper. Suddenly, a shadow flitted through the trees. "Greetings, travelers, I am Aloysius, keeper of the woods' lore." His feathers were the color of moonlit silver, and his eyes held a knowing glint. Twilight stepped forward, the map still clutched in her telekinetic grip. "We're looking for the Element of Honesty," she said with a hint of urgency. "Could you help us?" Aloysius tilted his head, his beak clicking thoughtfully. "Ah, the Element of Honesty," he murmured. "A treasure indeed. But beware, for the woods are not kind to those who seek without pure intentions." The friends exchanged glances, their determination unwavering. Applejack stepped up, her eyes meeting the owl's. "Our intentions are as true as my word. We aim to protect our town and find this artifact before it falls into the wrong hooves." Aloysius studied them for a moment before nodding. "Very well. I will guide you to the spot where the Element lies hidden. But heed my warning: the woods hold secrets, and they do not give them up easily." The group followed the him, their hoofsteps echoing through the quiet wood. The whispers grew louder, and Applejack couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched. Twilight, ever the scholar, took notes on the various plants and magical phenomena they encountered, while Pinkie Pie chattered away, trying to keep everyone's spirits high. As they ventured further in, the wood grew denser, the path narrower. The light grew dimmer, the sun's rays barely piercing the thick canopy above. The air grew colder, carrying with it a sense of unease that made even Rainbow Dash's wings flutter anxiously. "This place is giving me the creeps," Fluttershy whispered, her eyes darting around nervously. "Don't worry, Fluttershy," Rainbow Dash assured her, "we're all here for you." Aloysius led them to a clearing, where an ancient tree stood tall, its trunk twisted with age. The whispers grew to a crescendo, swirling around the tree's base like a cacophony of secrets yearning to be heard. "Here it is," He announced, his voice barely audible over the din. "The Element of Honesty lies within this tree. But remember, it will only reveal itself to the worthy." Applejack squinted at the tree, her heart racing. The whispers grew so loud, they seemed to form words, urging them to turn back. But she knew they couldn't. "Thanks, Aloysius," she said, turning to her friends. "Let's get to it."

"Honey, wake up," Karen said gently. Her voice was the sweet sound of a lullaby echoing through the silent, sterile room, but Plankton remained unresponsive. The steady rhythm of the heart monitor was the only reply to her soft pleas. She sat by his side, her hand intertwined with his, her thumb brushing the back of his palm. But now, his hand lay limp, a stark contrast to the warmth and strength it usually exuded. The antiseptic smell of the hospital filled the air, a stark reminder of the gravity of the situation. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting a cold, artificial glow on Plankton's pale face. His chest rose and fell with each shallow breath, and the rhythm was the only reassurance Karen had that he was still with her. The doctor had said it was a mild concussion, but the sight of him lying there, so vulnerable, filled her with dread. She knew that she had to stay strong, not just for herself, but for Plankton. The door to the room creaked open, and the doctor stepped in, his footsteps muffled by the thick carpet. He was a young man, his expression a mix of professionalism and concern. He looked at the charts in his hand before glancing up at Karen. "How is he?" he asked. Karen's eyes never left her husband's face as she replied, "The same." The doctor nodded, his eye reflecting the seriousness of the situation. "It's not uncommon for someone with a concussion to sleep longer than usual. We're monitoring him closely, and his vitals are stable. We've given him medication to manage the pain and reduce the swelling." Karen leaned forward, her grip on Plankton's hand tightening. "But when will he wake up?" she asked, her voice a whisper of hope. The doctor's eyes softened. "It could be hours, or even days. The brain needs time to heal. But rest assured, Mrs. Plankton, we're doing everything we can to ensure a swift and full recovery." Karen nodded, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. She didn't want to believe it would take that long, but she knew that patience was the only option she had. She leaned back in the chair, her eyes never leaving Plankton's face. Time stretched out before her, each minute feeling like an eternity. The only sounds in the room were the tick of the clock on the wall and the rhythmic beep of the heart monitor. The hospital's white walls closed in around her, making her feel trapped in a world where time had ceased to have meaning. Her thoughts raced, playing out every possible scenario in her head, each one more alarming than the last. A nurse came in to check on Plankton, her shoes squeaking against the floor. She offered Karen a kind smile and a reassuring pat on the shoulder before she tended to her husband, checking his bandages and administering fluids through the IV. Karen watched her every move, feeling helpless and out of place. The nurse noticed her distress and offered her a cup of tea, which she accepted with a nod of gratitude. The warm liquid helped soothe her nerves as she took a sip, her eyes never straying from Plankton. The minutes ticked by, each one feeling heavier than the last. The silence was broken only by the occasional murmur from the hallway or the rustle of pages as the nurse updated his chart. Karen's mind drifted back to the moments before the accident, the laughter and the joy that seemed so distant now. Plankton had been working on his latest invention, a contraption he swore would revolutionize the fast-food industry. It was a wild tangle of metal and wires, something that only he could understand. Karen had watched him, her curiosity piqued but her technical knowledge barely scratching the surface of his genius. "What does it do?" she had asked, her eyes wide with wonder. He had grinned, his teeth gleaming in the light of the makeshift workshop. "It's a secret," he had said, his voice filled with mischief. Now, as she sat by his side in the hospital room, she wished she had paid more attention. Perhaps then she could have anticipated the malfunction that had sent him to the emergency room with a concussion. Plankton had always been so driven by his ideas, so wrapped up in his world of gadgets and gizmos, that he often forgot the dangers that came with his experiments. It was his passion, and she had always admired it, but in moments like these, she couldn't help but worry. The room grew dimmer as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the floor. Karen's eyes grew heavy, and she fought the urge to sleep. Suddenly, Plankton's eyelid fluttered open, revealing eye that searched the room with confusion. "Where am I?" he croaked, his voice dry and scratchy. Karen's heart leaped into her throat, and she leaned forward, her hand tightening around his. "You're in the hospital, sweetie. You had an accident," she said softly, her voice trembling. Plankton blinked several times, his gaze shifting from the blurry ceiling to Karen's face. Recognition dawned in his eyes, but confusion remained etched on his furrowed brow. "What happened?" he murmured, his voice still weak and groggy. Karen's heart swelled with relief at the sound of his voice. She took a deep breath, then explained the accident as calmly as she could. "You fell while working on your latest invention. You hit your head pretty hard. The doctor said it's just a concussion, but you need to rest." Plankton's eyes searched hers, trying to piece together the puzzle of his foggy memory. "A concussion?" he repeated, his voice a mere whisper. "How long have I been out?" Karen's grip on his hand tightened, her knuckles white. "A few hours, darling. But it's going to be okay." She hoped her words were true, that the fear and doubt didn't seep through. Plankton's gaze was unfocused, his thoughts jumbled. He didn't remember the accident, the pain, or the panic that had brought him here. All he knew was the gentle squeeze of her hand and the sterile scent of the hospital room. As he began to sit up, a wave of dizziness washed over him. Karen's other hand shot out to steady him, her eyes filled with concern. "Lie back down, Plankton. You need to rest." He obeyed, his head heavy on the pillow, and his eye fell shut again. The doctor had warned her about the potential side effects of the concussion: confusion, dizziness, and memory loss. It was a strange sight, seeing him so unsure of himself, a stark contrast to the usual confidence that radiated from him. When he opened his eye again, the confusion had deepened. "What's the last thing you remember?" Karen asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Plankton's eye searched the room, as if the answer was hidden in the shadows. "I... I don't remember," he said, his voice filled with a sense of panic that was alien to him. "It's all blank." Karen felt a chill run down her spine. The doctor had mentioned that amnesia was a possibility, but she hadn't allowed herself to believe it would happen to Plankton. "It's okay," she assured him, her voice shaky. Plankton's eye searched hers, desperation flickering in their depths. "What do you mean, I don't remember?" Karen took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of anxiety brewing within her. "Sometimes with concussions, memories can be a bit jumbled. But don't worry, they'll come back to you." She hoped her reassurance sounded more convincing than it felt. The doctor had warned her that the road to recovery might be bumpy, but she had never anticipated Plankton's memory loss. Her mind raced, trying to think of ways to help him, to fill in the blanks without overwhelming him. "Do you remember anything at all?" she asked, her voice gentle. Plankton's eye searched the room again, as if the answer was hiding in the corners. "I remember... I remember working," he said, his voice trailing off. "But it's all... fuzzy." Karen felt a pang of sadness at the lost look on her husband's face. She didn't know how to navigate this new, uncharted territory. But she knew she had to be strong for him. "It's okay, Plankton," she said, stroking his forehead with the back of her hand. "You just need to rest." The doctor had instructed her to keep the environment calm and familiar to aid in his recovery. So, she began to speak in soothing tones, telling him stories of their past adventures. Her words painted a picture of a life filled with love and adventure, and she watched as his face relaxed with each passing moment. His breathing grew steadier, his chest rising and falling in a more natural rhythm. The hospital room was a cocoon of beige and white, the only color coming from the bouquet of flowers she had brought from home. Plankton's chest rose and fell in the rhythm of deep sleep, his breathing steady and even. The heart monitor beeped reassuringly, a metronome to the symphony of his rest. His face was peaceful, free from the tension that had gripped it earlier. She felt a weight lift from her shoulders as she realized the immediate danger had passed. For now, at least, he was safe, and she was grateful for every moment of his peaceful rest. She knew the road ahead would be fraught with challenges, but for now, she was content to sit by his side and enjoy the quiet.

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Not ALL snoring is harmful. The reasons for snoring stem from the relaxation of throat muscles when you sleep. Less airway volume can mean that the relaxed throat vibrates when you breathe. It’s the universal cause of snoring (harmful or normal) The tongue is one of the main factors in snoring and sleeping with mouth open. During sleep, the muscles in the back of the mouth, nose, or throat become relaxed and breath flowing through the airway causes them to vibrate or flap. When you go to sleep, the primary muscles of your tongue and your throat relax. For you to keep your airway open, support muscles for the throat must hold firm. Not all snoring is sleep apnoea. Breathing noise or ‘snoring’ can be normal. The restricted airflow results in a rumbling, rattling sound that occurs when air flows past the relaxed tissues. Snoring sounds range from quiet whistling or vibrating to a loud grumbling, snorting, or rumbling. It results when the upper airway, specifically the throat and the nasal passage, vibrate from turbulent airflow during breathing while asleep. This commonly affects the soft palate and uvula, the tissue that hangs down at the back of the throat. Narrowing at the base of the tongue may also play a role. The root cause of snoring is when the air you’re breathing doesn’t flow smoothly through your nose and/or throat when you’re sleeping. Instead, it bumps into the surrounding tissues, which causes a vibration. The resulting vibration makes the snoring sound as you breathe. Your tongue position may also play a part. Snoring is caused by things such as your tongue, mouth, throat or airways in your nose vibrating as you breathe. It happens because these parts of your body relax and narrow when you're asleep. Sometimes it's caused by a condition like sleep apnoea, which is when your airways become temporarily blocked as you sleep. Snoring is the sound that air makes when it passes across the relaxed or loose tissues of the upper airway.

𝖳𝖮 𝖢𝖧𝖠𝖭𝖦𝖤 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖶𝖮𝖱𝖫𝖣 pt. 9 Sequel to Autism And All by NeuroFabulous https://emojicombos.com/autism-and-all Read the Autism And All one first! Plankton stands up and storms off to the bedroom, his steps heavy. The door slams shut behind him, the finality of it echoing through the house. Chip's eyes fill with tears, and he sinks to the floor, feeling like he's failed his dad. Karen sighs. "Chip," she says, her voice soft as she sits beside him. "Your dad's just really sensitive about his autism." She takes his hand. "You have to remember, it's not just something he can turn on or off." Chip nods, feeling small. He didn't mean to upset his dad. He just wanted to help, like Timmy had helped him. He thinks back to their lunchtime chat, Timmy's hands flapping freely as he talked about his 'superpowers'. It had made his dad's stims seem less like a 'problem' and more like something unique, something to celebrate. But now, Chip isn't so sure. He looks up at Karen, his eyes wet. "But Mom," he says, his voice cracking. "Today at school, I met a kid named Timmy. He said he's autistic, and gave me this book. He said this book makes him feel like a superhero. He told me the book made him feel seen, understood." Karen nods, listening intently as Chip speaks. "And I thought...maybe it could help Dad feel the same way," Chip continues, his voice trailing off. Karen's gaze softens. "You had good intentions, Chip," she says, squeezing his hand. "But everyone's different, even those with autism. What might help one person might not be the same for another. It's like a fingerprint—each one is unique." "But Timmy said it helps him," Chip argues, his voice small. Karen nods. "And that's wonderful for Timmy," she says. "But your dad's experience is his own. He's not as comfortable with it as Timmy might be. Autism is like a mosaic, Chip. Each piece is different, and they all come together to make a unique picture." She pauses, searching his eyes. "You can't always assume what works for one will work for another." Chip wipes his screen with the back of his hand, feeling a wave of guilt wash over him. He didn't mean to make his dad feel worse. He just wanted to share something positive. "What do we do?" He asks, his voice cracking. Karen takes a deep breath. "We need to talk to him," she says. "We need to tell him that we love him exactly as he is, without conditions." She stands. They approach the bedroom door, Karen's hand on the knob. "But remember," she whispers to Chip. "He's fragile right now. We have to be gentle." They step inside, the room dimly lit. Plankton's lying on the bed, his back to them, his body still. Chip's heart squeezes. This isn't the invincible scientist he's always known. This is his dad, a man who's been hurt by misunderstanding. Karen clears her throat. "Plankton, we need to talk." Plankton doesn't move. "I'm sorry, Karen," he says, his voice muffled by the pillow. "I just don't have the energy for this right now." Chip's heart aches. He's never seen his dad so defeated. He takes a deep breath, steeling himself for what he's about to say. "Dad," he starts, his voice soft. "I'm sorry." Plankton's body tenses but doesn't turn around. "I didn't mean to make fun of you or make light of your autism. I just wanted to show you that someone else out there is just li—" "I don't want to be like someone else," Plankton says, his voice muffled by the pillow. "I just want to be me." Chip swallows hard, his eyes prickling with tears. "But Dad," he says, "you are like someone else. You're like my new friend. His name's Timmy, an-" "I don't know or care WHO Timmy is," Plankton cuts in, his voice sharp. "I'm Plankton." He rolls over to face them, his eye red. "I'm not a kid playing pretend. I'm a grown man trying to navigate a world that's always two steps ahead of me." Chip feels his heart crack. He'd never thought of it that way. "But what if you could see it as a strength?" He asks, his voice hopeful. "What if instead of trying to keep up, you could be the one setting the p-" "Setting the pace?" Plankton's voice is bitter. "How can I set the pace when I can't even keep up?" His words hang in the air, each one a sharp reminder of his daily battles. Chip feels his throat constrict. "Dad, I'm sorry," he says, his voice breaking. "I just wanted to help, like, you see my friend Tim-" "I don't need to be compared to a child's book! And what does 'Timmy' have to do wi-" "It's not just a book, Dad," Chip says, his voice firm. "It's about understanding that autism isn't a flaw or a joke, it's just...part of who you are. And Timmy, he's like a superhero because he's found a way to turn his challenge into strengths, on account of he has autis–" But Plankton cuts him off with a sharp laugh. "A strength?" He asks, his voice laced with sarcasm. "What strength? My inability to not get overwhelmed by sounds and lights? My inability to read people's faces?" He sits up, his frustration palpable. "Don't you get it, Chip? This isn't something I can just 'turn on' or 'turn off'. It's my reality, my every day. And Timmy...Timmy might be fine with playing games about his, but I'm NOT." His voice is heavy with pain. Chip's heart feels like it's in his throat. He's never seen his dad like this, so raw and exposed. He opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out. Plankton's words hang in the air like a challenge, demanding to be heard. "Dad," he finally says, his voice trembling. "I'm sorry if I made it seem like a joke. I just...I just wanted to show you that you're not alone." He holds up the book, his hands shaking. "Timmy's not alone either. And neither are you." He takes a deep breath. "Maybe we could find our own way to make your autism feel like a su—" But Plankton's had enough. He stands, his small frame trembling with frustration. "I don't need your pity, Chip," he says, his voice sharp. "I need you to understand that this isn't some game. This is my life!" With a sudden burst of strength, Plankton snatches the book from Chip's hands. Chip's eyes widen in shock, watching his dad's anger manifest physically as he tears the pages one by one. "This is not who I am!" Plankton says, his voice shaking with each ripping sound. "I'm not a character for you to relate to or feel good about!" Karen stands there, frozen, her hand covering her mouth in shock as Plankton throws the book across the room. The silence that follows is deafening. Chip's screen is wet with tears, his chest tight. He's never seen his dad this way before— so raw and so hurt. He swallows hard, trying to find the right words. "Dad, I--" But Plankton holds up his hand. "Just...just go," he says, his voice hoarse. Chip picks up the torn book on his way out.

𝖳𝖮 𝖢𝖧𝖠𝖭𝖦𝖤 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖶𝖮𝖱𝖫𝖣 pt. 6 Sequel to Autism And All by NeuroFabulous https://emojicombos.com/autism-and-all Read the Autism And All one first! Plankton's mouth moves, but the words come out as a jumble. "Purple...dog...car... no, not a car," he says, his expression vacant. Chip swallows hard, not knowing how to respond to the senseless words. Karen watches from the sidelines, her eyes filled with understanding and love. This is her Plankton—her quirky, lovable husband, whose brain operates on a different frequency. She sees the fear in Chip's screen and knows he's scared, but she also knows that understanding is key. "It's ok, Dad," Chip whispers, his voice trembling. Plankton's hands move erratically, as if trying to capture invisible objects. "Yellow...box... closed...open," he mumbles. Chip listens, his heart racing. "Dad, can you hear me?" he whispers. Plankton's hand darts out, flailing through the air. "Butterfly," he says, his voice a mix of wonder and frustration. "There are no butterflies here," Chip says. Karen smiles reassuringly. "It's ok. Let's just be with him." Plankton's words continue. "Plankton," Plankton murmurs, "the world is spinning—no, it's just me spinning." He laughs, his eye unfocused. Chip swallows a lump in his throat. "Dad," Chip whispers, "are you seeing things?" Karen sighs, knowing this is a way his brain copes with pain and overstimulation. "Sometimes his thoughts come out all mixed up," she says, her voice a gentle explanation. "It's like his brain's way of telling stories when it's overwhelmed." "Ball...bounce...high," Plankton murmurs, his hand mimicking the action of throwing an invisible object. "No, Dad," Chip says, trying to keep his voice soothing. "No bouncing here." He looks to Karen for guidance. "It's alright," she says, her eyes never leaving Plankton's. "Just talk to him calmly. It's his way of making sense of things." Chip nods, his voice barely above a breath. "Ball," he repeats back to his father, trying to enter his world. Plankton's eye snaps to him, a spark of recognition lighting his gaze. "Yes," he murmurs. "Ball...bounce." Karen watches them, her heart swelling with pride. Chip is learning, adapting. He's becoming a bridge between the worlds of the neurotypical and neurodivergent. "Red ball," Plankton says, his hand rising and falling as if tossing a non-existent sphere. "No, blue ball," he corrects, the words tumbling out in a rush. Chip nods, playing along. "You're playing catch, Dad?" he asks, his voice softer now. Plankton's gaze flickers to him, confused. "Catch," he whispers, his hand moving in slow arcs. "But it's not a ball," Chip says, his voice filled with gentle persuasion. "It's just a game you're playing in your head.." Plankton's hand stops, his gaze locking onto Chip, a hint of irritation flitting across his features. "What?" Plankton asks, his voice disoriented as his surroundings finally come back to him. Chip swallows, unsure of what to say. He wants to help, but feels frustrated by his dad's behavior. "You know, Dad, when you talk like that, it's hard to understand," he says, his voice carrying a touch of exasperation. "You're not really playing catch, are you?" Plankton's eye narrows slightly, his movements stilling. "It's not real to anyone else!" Chip exclaims, his voice louder than he intended. Karen gives him a sharp look, a reminder to keep his voice down. "Chip," she says, her tone a mixture of warning and patience. "You know his autism makes things different for him." But Chip's thinking of the fidget toy, of the way his dad snatched it from him. He feels a surge of anger, a feeling he's not used to having towards his dad. "I know, but why does he have to be like this?" Chip asks, his voice a mix of frustration and hurt. "Why can't he just be normal?" Karen's gaze softens. "Chip, everyone's normal is different. Your dad's brain just works in a unique way. It's not wrong, just di-" "But it's annoying!" Chip interrupts, his voice cracking. "Everything's always about his needs!" Plankton's hand, which had been still, starts to twitch again. Karen sighs. "It's not about needs, it's about his comfort, Chip. And right now, he--" "But what about my comfort?" Chip retorts, his voice loud in the quiet room. "What about when he yells or throws things or gets upset because of tiny stuff?" He's close to tears, his emotions a tangled knot. "Dad, everything's not about you," he says, not meaning to sound harsh. But the words hang in the air like accusations. "Everyone has to deal with things," he continues. "Why can't you? You don't really have it that bad. Do you honestly think your wife, my mother, actually enjoys all of this? I can't even play with my friends because you get too overwhelmed! And for what? Because someone might laugh too loud or because the TV's on too high? Do you know how embarrassing it is to have to leave because you can't handle a science fair?" Karen's face falls. She's heard Chip's frustrations before, but never so raw and out in the open. Plankton's eye darts around the room, his mind racing to understand. He's missed the context, but the anger in Chip's voice is clear. "Chip," she starts, her voice steady. "Your dad's brain is just wired differently. It's not his fault." But Chip's on a roll. "I know, I know," he says, his frustration mounting. "But it's like he doesn't even try to get better. Why can't he just ignore it like everyone else? Why can't we take him to a doctor who can fix him?" Plankton's hand stutters to a stop, his gaze focusing on Chip with a mix of hurt and confusion. "Fix me?" he repeats, his voice tiny. "What do you mean?" "I don't know," Chip says, his shoulders slumping. "Just... make it so you're not always in pain or scared or...weird." He can't look at his dad, his eyes burning with unshed tears. "Living like this, with all your autistic stuff, it's just..." He trails off, his voice cracking. "It's not worth it." Plankton's hand starts to shake. "W-what?" He asks, his voice shaky. Karen's heart breaks for him, for the hurt that's clearly etched on his face. "Chip," she starts, but his words cut her off. "It's like you don't even see us," Chip says, his voice filled with pain. "You're in your own world, and we're just here, trying to figure out how to help you." Plankton's expression is a mask of confusion and sadness. "Did my mom marry you before or after she found out you're autistic?" Chip asks, his voice sharp with accusation. Karen's eyes widen in shock. "Chip!" She says, her voice firm. "That's not how we talk about it. And I knew before.." But Chip's hurt, has turned to anger, and he's not listening. "But it's true!" Chip insists, his voice rising. "You always have to be in charge, Dad, always have to have it your way. It's like you don't even see us!" Plankton's face pales, the words stinging like bees. "Chip, please," Karen interjects, her voice pleading. But Chip can't stop, the frustration of years boiling over. "Why can't you just be like everyone else? Why do you always have to be so difficult?" Plankton's hand drops to his side, his eye filling with sadness. "I'm sor—" Karen steps in, her voice firm. "Chip, that's enough. Your dad is doing his best." But Chip's anger is like a storm, unyielding. "Best? What about our best? What about us? It's always about you, Dad!" Plankton's face contorts, the pain in his heart as sharp as the pain in his mouth. "Dad, we don't need you," Chip says, his words a knife to Plankton's soul. "Chip," Karen says, her voice sharp. "You need to go to your room. Now." She points to the door, her eyes filled with a mixture of anger and sadness. Chip's shoulders slump, but he doesn't argue, retreating to his room. Plankton's gaze follows him, his mind reeling. He's heard the frustration before, but never so bluntly. Karen sighs, exhaustion etching lines on her face. "I know it's hard, babe," she says, stroking Plankton's swollen cheek. "But Chip's just trying to underst--" But Plankton shakes his head, his voice a whisper. "No, no. He's right," he says, his eye brimming with unshed tears. "I'm the one who's always in the way." He pulls his hand away, his gaze dropping to his lap. Karen's eyes are filled with a mix of anger and despair. "Don't say that," she whispers fiercely. "You're not a burden." But Plankton's thoughts are racing, his stims abandoned. "Look at what I've done," he says, his voice breaking. "I've made you leave things, I've made him hate me." Karen's grip on his hand tightens. "He doesn't hate you," she insists, her voice firm.

𝖳𝖮 𝖢𝖧𝖠𝖭𝖦𝖤 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖶𝖮𝖱𝖫𝖣 pt. 8 Sequel to Autism And All by NeuroFabulous https://emojicombos.com/autism-and-all Read the Autism And All one first! By the next week, Plankton's completely recovered from the wisdom teeth ordeal. And Chip's now ready to attend the new school. The first day of school is a flurry of nerves and excitement. Chip puts on his best smile, his backpack bulging with supplies. Plankton's in the kitchen, his usual self, rambling about his latest invention. Karen's voice floats from the hallway. "Remember, Chip. If you see someone who's different, don't stare or make fun. Just be kind." Chip nods before heading out the door. At school, Chip notices a boy in his class, Timmy, who flaps his hands and makes noises during storytime. Chip feels a pang of recognition—his dad does that too when he's excited. He watches as Timmy's classmates giggle, whispering behind their hands. Chip's heart squeezes with a mix of empathy and sorrow. He approaches Timmy at lunch. "Hi," he says, his voice tentative. Timmy looks up, his eyes wide. "You're new," Timmy says, his voice high-pitched. "Yes," Chip replies with a small smile. "My name's Chip." Timmy bobs his head, his hands still moving. "What's wrong with your hands?" Chip asks, his voice soft. Timmy looks down, his cheeks flushing. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be rude," Chip adds quickly. But Timmy smiles, showing a gap in his teeth. "It's okay," he says. "I have autism." Chip's eyes widen, his mind racing back to his dad's stims. "It's just how I show I'm happy." Timmy's words resonate with Chip, and he feels a sudden connection. "My dad has autism too," he confides. Timmy's eyes light up. "Really?" He asks, his movements ceasing for a moment. "Yeah," Chip says, taking a seat next to Timmy. "Sometimes it's hard, but he's pretty cool. But it's also really tough for him." Timmy nods, his hands resuming their gentle flapping. "It's not easy," he says. "But us autistics are like superheroes, you know? Our brains just work a bit differently." Chip can't help but smile at the analogy. "Yeah," he says, "like you guys have special powers." Timmy's face lights up. "Exactly!" He exclaims. "And sometimes, our powers can be really helpful. Like, I'm really good at math and remembering stuff." He beams with pride. Chip feels a twinge of understanding, remembering his dad's obsession with the Krabby Patty formula. "My dad's good at inventions," he says. "But sometimes, his brain can get really, really overwhelmed." Timmy nods. "Some days, my head does too," he says. The bell rings, signaling the end of lunch. Chip and Timmy quickly exchange numbers, promising to talk more. As Chip heads to his next class, his mind is a whirlwind. He's always known his dad was different, but seeing someone his age with the same challenges brings a new perspective. In the classroom, he can't concentrate. Plankton's words echo in his mind: "I'm not enough. I'll never be enough." He feels guilty for his earlier frustrations, for not understanding the depth of his dad's struggle. During recess, Chip finds Timmy alone. Timmy's eyes scan the playground, his hands still. "You okay?" Chip asks. Timmy looks up. "Yes. Hey you know what helps me?" Timmy asks, his voice hopeful. "I make fun of my autism, like it's a superpower. It makes me feel better when people laugh with me." Chip looks confused. "How do you mean?" Timmy grins. "I pretend my flapping hands are like wings, or my loud noises are like sonic booms. It makes the other kids laugh, and it helps me feel like I made them happy. And one called me 'Stimmy' instead of 'Timmy' which is okay, because it's a part of me! I also like it when people ask me about it. It makes me feel seen. Make it like a game, or something.." Timmy says. Chip thinks about this, his heart racing. He's never considered turning his dad's stims into something fun or cool. It's always been a thing to just ignore. But now, seeing Timmy's joy, he wonders if maybe there's another way. He makes a mental note to ask his dad about his favorite superheroes, thinking maybe they can find a way to make his stims more like superpowers. Timmy smiles. "For my birthday I got this book.. I've another copy!" Timmy says, interrupting himself as he gives Chip a book. "It's a fictional story about a guy like me, but he's got superpowers because of his autism. Maybe your dad will like it." Chip looks at the book titled "AUSOME AUsomeness" and smiles, his curiosity piqued. "Thanks, Timmy," he says, tucking it into his bag. "I'll show it to him." Timmy nods, his eyes bright with excitement. "You know, sometimes when I feel sad or overwhelmed, I just pretend I'm that hero. It helps me." Chip nods, his mind racing with ideas. He's never seen autism as a superpower before. Could this be a way to help his dad feel more like the hero he's always been to him? When Chip gets home, he finds Plankton in the living room. He sets his bag down by the couch as he greets his dad, and Karen, who's in the kitchen. "Hi, Mom; Hi, Dad!" Plankton's eye lights up at the sight of him. "How was school?" He asks, curious as to how Chip's first day went. "It was ok," Chip says, his mind still racing with thoughts of Timmy and his own father's autism. "I met a kid like you, Dad." Plankton's face falls slightly. "What do you mean?" He asks. "I mean," Chip starts, his voice shaky. "He had what you... I'll just show you the book!" He pulls out "AUSOME AUsomeness" from his bag, handing it to Plankton with excitement. Plankton looks at the cover, his eye narrowing as he opens it. "See, Dad?" Chip says, pointing to a part where the character uses his hand flapping to take flight. "It's like you w---" But Plankton's face is a mask of anger and hurt. "What's wrong?" Chip asks, his heart racing. Plankton slams the book shut. "Don't you dare," he says, his voice low and dangerous. "Don't you dare patronize me, Chip." He stands up, his hands shaking. "I'm not some comic book character to be made fun of or turned into a joke!" His voice echoes through the house, the pain in it palpable. Karen rushes in, alarmed by the sudden outburst. "Plankton, what's wrong?" She asks, her eyes darting between the two. "This," Plankton says, waving the book. "This is what you think of me?" The anger in his voice is sharp. "How could you, Chip?" He asks, his voice trembling. "How could you think I'd want to be seen like some unrealistically childish hero?" The room is tense, the air thick with emotions. Karen's eyes dart between her husband and son, trying to gauge the situation. Chip's face falls, the joy from his new friendship with Timmy dissipating. Timmy's autistic and loved it, so why doesn't Chip's autistic father.. "I'm sorry," he stammers, his voice small. "I just thought...it might help." But Plankton's anger doesn't waver. "You thought turning me into a caricature would make it better?" He asks, his voice laced with sarcasm. "Is that what you think of me?" Chip's eyes fill with tears as he watches his dad's pain unfold. "Dad, I don't underst--" "No," Plankton cuts him off. "You DON'T understand. You think it's fun to play pretend with something that's a daily struggle for me?" His voice breaks. "You think making it a game will just make it go away?" He throws the book across the room, where it hits the wall with a thud. Chip's eyes follow the book, his heart sinking. He didn't mean to make his dad feel this way. "But a new friend of mine said--" "I don't care what some stranger said!" Plankton interrupts, his voice rising. "This is my life, Chip! My struggle!" His hands are shaking as he clutches the back of the couch. Karen steps in. "Let's talk this out," she says, her voice a gentle whisper. "We're all on the sa-" "No!" Plankton snaps, cutting her off. He turns to Chip, his eye boring into his son's. "You think my autism is a game? You think I can just pretend it's a superpower and poof, everything's fine?" His voice cracks with each word. "You don't get it. You don't get what it's like to have a brain that fights you every second of every day." His hands are in fists now, his knuckles white. Chip feels like he's been punched in the gut. "Dad, please," he whispers, his voice shaking. "I just wanted to...I don't know, make it better. Make you feel...happy." Plankton sits back down, his shoulders slumped. "Happy?" Plankton repeats. "You think making a joke out of it makes me happy?" Chip feels like he's walking on eggshells. "No, Dad," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "I just...wanted to share something that made us feel better." He looks down at his own hands, which are now trembling. "I just want you to be happy too."

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December 8, 2010 / Sleep Snoring is caused by breathing in air through a partially blocked airway. As you fall asleep, the muscles that keep your breathing passage open begin to relax while your throat contracts. The vibrating tissue produces the sound familiarly known as snoring. And whether a given person awakens to their own snores may also vary from night to night. A reflex in the upper airway prevents this collapse and keeps windpipes open when you’re awake. But when you’re asleep, that reflex isn’t as strong. The upper airway tends to partially collapse, and breathing becomes noisier. Snoring can be an occasional occurrence or something that happens on a regular basis. As the air forces through, causes soft tissues in mouth, nose and throat to bump into one other and vibrate. During sleep, the airways tend to narrow, which may cause increased airflow resistance. Tightening causing include increased exposure to allergens; cooling of the airways; being in a reclining position; and hormone secretions that follow a circadian pattern. Sleep itself may even cause changes in bronchial function. The vibration of relaxed throat tissues during sleep causes snoring. During sleep, the muscles loosen, narrowing the airway. As a person inhales and/or exhales, the moving air causes tissue to flutter thus make noise. Some people are more prone to snoring because of the size and shape of the muscles and tissues in their neck. In other cases, excess relaxing of the tissue or narrowing of the airway can lead to snoring.

𝖳𝖮 𝖢𝖧𝖠𝖭𝖦𝖤 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖶𝖮𝖱𝖫𝖣 pt. 17 Sequel to Autism And All by NeuroFabulous https://emojicombos.com/autism-and-all Read the Autism And All one first! "I-I just want to understand," Krabs says, his voice quavering. "I've never...I mean, I thought you were just being...you know, you." He fumbles for words, feeling the weight of his ignorance. "But now I see you're more than just a nuisance." But Plankton doesn't react, lost in his sensory cocoon. Karen watches the interaction with a sad smile. "Plankton, Krabs is trying to reach out to you," she says gently. "He wants to be a part of your world." Plankton's grip on the octopus doesn't loosen, but his eye moves from the toy to Krabs, then back again. He's used to being misunderstood, his autism often a source of frustration and isolation. But now, here's his enemy, trying to understand? Krabs clears his throat, his eyes searching Plankton's face for any sign of acknowledgment. "What...what do you say when you repeat those words?" He asks, his voice careful, tentative. "Is there a pattern, or...?" He's desperate for a clue, a way to enter Plankton's world. Plankton's eye narrows, his body tensing. "It's not for you," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. He clutches the octopus even tighter, as if it's the only thing keeping him tethered to his own reality. Krabs leans back, his claws clutching at his chest. "I just want to help," he says, his voice earnest. "I've hurt you so many times, and I don't want to do it again." Plankton's gaze remains on his octopus, but his posture relaxes slightly. It's clear he hears Krabs, even if he doesn't respond. Karen smiles softly, recognizing the sincerity in Krabs' voice. It's a start, a tentative step towards understanding. Mr. Krabs watches him, his claws still hovering over the sensory box. "Plankton," he starts, his voice soft and cautious. "I know I've been a...well, not a good friend. But I want to be better." He selects a fidget spinner from the box, twirling it slowly. "Can you tell me what this does?" But Plankton doesn't answer. "I don't mean to pry," he says, his voice sincere. "But I can't help but wonder, Plankton. What's it like?" He twirls the fidget spinner again, his gaze never leaving Plankton. "To be...different?" Plankton's eye flickers to Krabs, his expression unreadable. For a moment, it seems like he might speak. But then he shakes his head, his words lost in the maelstrom of his thoughts. "Echo...echolal... lal...la..." Krabs sets the fidget spinner down, his heart sinking. He doesn't know what he's doing, doesn't know how to bridge this gap. But he's determined to try. "What about the noises you make?" He asks, his voice gentle. "They're not just sounds, are th-" But Plankton cuts him off, his voice sharp. "It's not for you to use or to understand." There's a challenge in his tone, a barrier that Krabs feels he can't cross. He pauses, his gaze shifting to Karen. Her eyes are understanding, but firm. "Let him be, Krabs," she says. "This is his way of coping. It's not for us to interrupt." Krabs nods, his claws dropping to his sides. "I just want to help," he murmurs, his voice low. "To be there fo—" But Plankton's gaze is still on the octopus, his voice distant. "It's not for you to understand," he says, his tone final. "It's mine." Krabs' eyes fill with a newfound respect. He's always been so focused on his own gain, on his own needs, that he's never truly considered Plankton's perspective. "I'm sorry," he whispers, his voice hoarse. "I didn't mean to..." He trails off, not knowing what to say. Karen nods, her hand resting on Plankton's shoulder. "It's ok," she says, her voice a soothing balm. "We're all learning." Krabs sighs, his eyes never leaving Plankton's distant gaze, when Plankton starts to vocally stim. "Hmms.." "What's that you're doing?" Krabs interrupts. Karen's eyes widen, and she quickly intervenes. "It's Plankton's way of self-regulating. It's important for him to do this without interruptions. His stims are personal, and it's not our place to question them," Karen explains, her voice firm yet understanding. Krabs nods, his eyes still on Plankton's fidgeting fingers. "I just want to...connect," he whispers, his voice filled with longing. Karen nods, her expression softening. "I know, but when he's like this, it's best to let him be." She looks at Krabs, her eyes filled with understanding. "But there are other ways to connect, if you're truly willing to listen." Krabs leans in, his eyes bright with curiosity. Plankton's eye droops. "Just...be...quiet." Krabs nods, his claws still. The room is a cocoon of silence, save for the distant hum of Bikini Bottom. Plankton's hands still, and Karen knows he's getting exhausted. Plankton's head leans into her side, his antennae drooping. "I'm tired," he murmurs, his voice a tiny echo of its usual pitch. Karen wraps her arm around him, his body fitting into the comfortable curve of her embrace. "It's ok," she whispers, stroking his back. Plankton's eyelid flutters closed, his breathing deepening into the rhythm of sleep. His body relaxes against hers, his trust in her unspoken but palpable. She's his safe haven, the one who gets him in a way no one else does. Karen presses a gentle kiss to his forehead. His grip on the octopus loosens, the plush tentacles now lying limp in his hand. Krabs watches, his heart aching for the enemy he's come to care for. He can't help but feel like he's intruding on a sacred moment, one that's been building for years of missed understandings and hurtful words. As Plankton's breathing deepens into sleep, Karen whispers to Krabs, "You've tried to connect today. That's more than he's ever had from anyone outside this family." Krabs nods, his gaze still on the sleeping Plankton. "But I want to do more," he insists. "I want to be...I don't know, a...friend?" Karen looks at him, surprise and hope mingling in her expression. "That's a big step, Krabs," she says. "But if you're really willing to learn, to be patient and respectful, then maybe we can start there." Krabs nods, his heart swelling with a newfound determination. "I'll do anything," he says. Karen smiles, her screen shining with gratitude. "Then listen," she says, her voice barely a whisper. "Plankton's autism isn't a puzzle to solve or a challenge to overcome. It's just part of who he is." She strokes Plankton's antennae gently. "And his stims, his words—they're his way of saying 'I'm here, and I need you to be here with me.'" Krabs nods, his understanding growing. He watches as Karen carefully moves Plankton's head to his pillow, his body now fully relaxed in sleep as she tucks him in. The plush octopus is still in his hand. "Just be present," she repeats. "Learn to listen without judgment, to see his world without trying to change it." Krabs nods, his expression earnest. It's a concept that seems so simple, yet so profound. He's always been about the endgame, the victory. But here, in this small, dimly-lit room, he sees the true prize: connection. Krabs watches as Karen pulls the covers up to Plankton's chin, his eye still closed as he snuggles into the bed. Krabs' mind races with thoughts. Autistic Plankton. It's a revelation that shakes him to his very core, challenging every assumption he's ever had about his enemy. He's not just a nuisance anymore; he's a friend in pain, trying to navigate a world that doesn't always make sense. He looks at Plankton's sleeping form, the soft rise and fall of his chest, and feels a pang of regret for all the times he's laughed at or dismissed his behaviors. "I'm sorry," he whispers, his voice barely audible. "I never knew." Plankton's only response is a soft snore, oblivious to the monumental shift happening in the room. Krabs sits back in the chair, his thoughts racing. How many times has he misunderstood, how many jokes at Plankton's expense were at the cost of his pain? It's a stark contrast to the loud, chaotic world of the Krusty Krab. He watches the rise and fall of Plankton's chest, the soft snores that punctuate the silence. There's a peace to him, a vulnerability that he's never seen before. It's humbling, frightening even, to think about the depth of emotions and experiences that Plankton has kept hidden beneath his bravado. Krabs' gaze moves to Karen, who's sitting on the edge of the bed, her hand resting on Plankton's. Her expression is a mix of love and protectiveness, a fierce motherly instinct that makes his own heart ache. He clears his throat, his claws awkwardly fidgeting. "What about the seizures?" He asks, his voice hushed. "What can I do if he has one?" Karen looks at him, her eyes filled with appreciation. "You've already done the most important thing," she says, her voice soothing. "You've recognized his needs and are willing to learn." Krabs nods, his mind whirling with questions. He's never felt so out of his depth, but the desire to be there for Plankton is stronger than any treasure he's ever pursued. He watches the soft rise and fall of Plankton's chest, his snores a comforting background to their hushed conversation. Karen reaches out, her hand gently covering Krabs' claw. "If he has a seizure, stay calm," she instructs. "Make sure he's safe, nothing around to hurt him. And talk to him softly, let him know you're there." Krabs nods, his gaze never leaving Plankton. He doesn't know what it's like to navigate a world where even the most mundane experiences can be overwhelming, where words can be a shield and a prison. But he wants to know. He wants to be a person who can offer comfort, who can make Plankton feel less alone.

November 6, 2019 As you fall asleep the soft palate in your mouth, your tongue, and throat relax, which causes a partial blockage of your airway. As air tries to get it through it causes the tissues to vibrate. The more your airway narrows the louder the snoring becomes. A soft palate, thick throat tissue, and weak throat muscle tone are some physical reasons. When you sleep, all of the muscles in your body become more relaxed. Snoring is caused by air squeezing through the narrowed or blocked airway. In some cases, a person snores when their tongue or the tissue in the back of the throat relaxes while they sleep. Airflow is constricted, causing a vibrating sound. Naturally, when a person sleeps, their muscles relax slightly, a process that can cause the airways to shrink. That tissue places pressure on the nasal passages, keeping air from freely flowing. During waking hours, the tissues in the throat and upper airway are open, and air enters the lungs easily for most people. During sleep, the soft tissues and tongue relax. This can partially block the airway. If the air coming in and out of the airway meets resistance, vibration can occur, causing snoring. Sometimes the brain cannot properly signal the muscles that control breathing, may also produce snoring. Snoring occurs when your upper airways narrow too much, causing turbulent airflow. This, in turn, makes the surrounding tissues vibrate, producing noise. Snoring is a noise made as we breathe during our sleep.

𝖳𝖮 𝖢𝖧𝖠𝖭𝖦𝖤 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖶𝖮𝖱𝖫𝖣 pt. 2 Sequel to Autism And All by NeuroFabulous https://emojicombos.com/autism-and-all Read the Autism And All one first! Hanna leaned forward, her screen studying Plankton. "How can I he--" "Space," Karen said, cutting Hanna off gently. "Give him space. Sometimes, that's what he needs most." Hanna nods, leaning back. Chip watched his dad with a newfound understanding of his father's struggles. He felt a tug of guilt for not seeing it sooner, for not knowing how to support him. But he also felt a sense of awe at his mom's patience and knowledge. The room was quiet, save for the rhythmic sound of Plankton's rocking. Karen watched him, her eyes full of love and concern. She knew his brain was a maze of thoughts and sensations, trying to make sense of a world that was often too much. Hanna, now more cautious, observed from a distance, trying to understand the complexities of autism. She felt a newfound respect for Karen and the unspoken strength she had to navigate this life with her husband. "I'm sorry," Plankton finally managed to say, his voice still shaky. Karen looked over at him, seeing the turmoil in his eye. "You don't have to—" But her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out and recognized the text from Plankton's dentist for a dental appointment to get his x-ray. "Hanna, I hate to ask," Karen started, looking apologetic. "But could you possibly keep an eye on Chip for a bit?" Hanna looked from Plankton to Karen. "Of course!" she said without a second thought. "What's going on?" Karen sighs. "I'll keep you updated, but Plankton needs to get x- rays at the dentist..." Plankton's eye snapped back to focus at the mention of dentists. Dentist visits had always been a challenge. But Karen was already thinking ahead. "It's ok honey," she soothed. "We'll make sure they know about yo--" She turned to Plankton to see an oncoming absence seizure. "Plankton, it's ok," she cooed, but it was too late. The world around him faded into a blur of lights and sounds, his body frozen in a state of overwhelm. Hanna watched, horrified, as Plankton's eye is now unblinking, his body unmoving. Hanna was still, gaze fixed on Plankton, fear etched on her screen. She'd never seen anything like this before. But Karen was in action, her movements swift and practiced. She knew exactly what to do. "You're ok, Plankton. You're just having an absence. It'll be over soon." Chip watched, his own fear mirroring Hanna's. But there was something else there, too: understanding. He knew his mom was right, that his dad would come back to them. The seizure passed, and Plankton blinked back to reality. "Let's get to this appointment." Karen says, helping him stand. When Karen arrives with Plankton to the dentist's office, the receptionist smiles brightly. "Hi, Mr. Plankton," she says, her voice chirpy and cheerful. Plankton flinches at the noise, his eye darting around the room, taking in every detail, every sound. The waiting room was a minefield of sensory assaults: the ticking clock, the humming of the lights, the rustle of magazines. Karen squeezes his hand gently, a silent reminder that she's there, that he's not alone. When they call his name, Plankton's grip tightens. The smell of antiseptic and the sight of the chair sends a tremor through his body. But Karen guides him through the door. In the sterile room, the dental hygienist is kind. "Hello, I'm Dr. Marla," she says, her voice measured and calm. "We're gonna take some pictures of your teeth, okay?" Plankton nods, his eye wide with anxiety. "Okay," he whispers. Karen squeezes his hand reassuringly, nodding at Dr. Marla. "He's nervous," she says quietly as he rocks in a stim. "But he'll be okay." The chair is cold and hard, but Plankton doesn't notice. He's too busy focusing on his breathing, counting the tiles on the ceiling. Karen stays close, whispering calming phrases. "In and out, honey. You've got this." His rocking slows. Dr. Marla moves with a practiced grace, her eyes watchful and understanding. "Open wide," she instructs, and Plankton obeys. The x-ray is over quickly, and Dr. Marla gently removes the tray. "Good job," she says, her voice soothing. Plankton's eye flutters as he tries to refocus on the room around him. But the calm is shattered when Dr. Marla delivers the news: "Mr. Plankton, you're going to need your wisdom teeth removed today." Plankton's eye widens, his breath catches. "Now?" he stammers, his voice squeaking with fear. Karen nods solemnly. "It's preventative, honey. It'll be easier now than waiting for them to cause problems later." Plankton's heart races as the words sink in. Surgery. Now. His brain spirals into overload. He feels Karen's calming hand on his shoulder, but it's not enough. The world around him feels like it's closing in, the sounds too loud, the lights too bright. "Breathe," Karen whispers. The room becomes a blur of masked faces and shiny instruments. Plankton's body tenses, his stims fading into the background as fear takes over. Karen remains a constant presence, talking him through the process. "They're going to put you to sleep, Plankton," she explains. "You won't feel a thing." The anesthesiologist enters the room, a gentle giant with a calming smile. "I'm Dr. Smith. I'll be taking care of y—" But Plankton's gone into overdrive, his body trembling with the intensity of his fear. "He's autistic," Karen interjects quickly. "He needs extra care. He's sensitive to sensory stimulation." Dr. Marla nods. The anesthesiologist, Dr. Smith, takes a step back, his face a picture of understanding. "It's ok," he says, his voice a gentle rumble. "We'll make this as comfortable as possible for you." Karen nods gratefully. "Plankton has a hard time with sudden changes. Can you tell us what's going to happen?" Dr. Smith nods. "We'll start with a topical numbing agent, then move to a sedative. It'll help keep him asleep during the procedure." The anesthetic cream is cold against Plankton's gums and his arm, where the IV will eventually be. "It's just a tickle," Karen says, trying to soothe his nerves. Plankton nods, his body stiff as a board. He's already in fight or flight mode, his brain unable to process. The mask is placed over his face, and he inhales the sweet smell of nitrous oxide. "Breathe deep," Karen coos, her hand on his. Plankton's eye widens at first, then slowly glazed over as the gas takes hold. The room seems to spin around him, but it's a comforting, soothing spin. The lights dim, the sounds become muffled, and the sharp edges of the world soften. He feels himself being lifted into the chair, his body weightless. Karen's voice is the last thing he hears before everything disappears. Karen texts Hanna. "I'm letting you know, Plankton's getting a tiny operation to remove his wisdom teeth." Karen texts. When the surgery finishes, Plankton is still asleep with Karen holding his limp hand. The dental staff is extra careful not to startle his sensitive system. They wheel him into recovery, his chest rising and falling evenly with the rhythm of sleep. Karen watches him closely, their bond stronger than ever. Hanna's text lights up her phone screen. "How's everything?" Hanna asks. "He's in recovery," Karen replies in the text. Meanwhile, Hanna and Chip are at the park, trying to pass the time. Chip throws a frisbee to Hanna. As the frisbee arcs through the air, he thinks about his dad. He wishes he could be there, but he knows that his mom's calmness is what Plankton needs right now. He wonders how the surgery went, if his dad is ok. Now, the dentist turns to Karen. "The anesthesia will wear off soon. He'll wake up groggy, but he'll be ok." Karen nods, squeezing Plankton's hand as they remove the IV. "His mouth has been numbed, and he might act a bit loopy when he first wakes up." As the anesthesia wears off, Plankton stirs, his eye blinking open. "Hi, honey," Karen says softly. "It's over."

https://www.dentalfearcentral.org/help/sedation-dentistry/general-anaesthetic/

𝖳𝖮 𝖢𝖧𝖠𝖭𝖦𝖤 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖶𝖮𝖱𝖫𝖣 pt. 4 Sequel to Autism And All by NeuroFabulous https://emojicombos.com/autism-and-all Read the Autism And All one first! Plankton's words come out in a slurry mess, and Karen understands he's trying to share his thoughts with them. "Cwouds...hampy clows. Wheah's the moo...moo? Moo...moom," he mumbles. "Wha...whath's that?" he asks, his eye searching the sky for something that's not there. Karen's laughter fills the car, lightening the mood. "It's just the sun, sweetie," she says. Chip looks at his dad with a mix of amusement and concern. "You ok?" he asks, his voice tentative. Plankton nods, his smile little more than a twitch of his lips as drool starts to form at the corner of his mouth. "Mom," Chip says, his voice tinged with concern. "He's fine, Chip. It's just the medicine wearing off." Karen answers as they pull up into the garage, Plankton's speech still slurred. "Wheath we gothin?" Plankton mumbles. "We're going inside, sweetie," Karen says, helping him out of the car. His legs feel like jelly, his body moving in slow motion as they make their way into the house. The lights seem too bright, the noises too loud. "Mom," Chip whispers, his eyes wide. "Is he ok?" "He's fine," she whispers back, her voice a gentle reminder of their earlier conversation. "This is normal after anesthesia." Inside, Plankton leans heavily on Karen, his eye half-closed. "Bed," he mumbles. Karen nods, guiding him towards the bedroom. "Come on, honey," she says, her voice a soothing balm to his frayed nerves. "Let's get you to bed." The bed feels heavenly under his weight, the covers a warm embrace. Plankton sighs contentedly, his body melting into the softness. His mind is a whirlwind of sensations, but the comfort of the bed grounds him. Karen watches him. The slurred speech and confusion are a stark contrast to his usual sharp and focused self. But she knows this is just the medicine wearing off. Gently, she starts to remove the gauze from his mouth. Plankton's eye opens a crack, his pupil wide with uncertainty. "It's ok," she whispers, her voice soothing. "Let's get this out of here." "Mm-hmm," he murmurs. The gauze is sticky and uncomfortable, but he trusts her. Karen's hands are careful, her movements precise as she works to free his mouth from the confines of the cotton. Plankton winces, his mouth feeling dull and tender. The room tilts slightly as he closes his eye, his body surrendering to the exhaustion that follows surgery. "Now, would you like some i---" But Plankton's already snoring softly, lost to the world. Karen's laughter fills the space between them. She knew he'd be sore later though, not to mention his autistic sensitivities to managing pain.. The next morning, Plankton wakes with a sore mouth and the anesthesia gone. He manages to open his eye. The room is a blur of light and shadow, his gums pounding with a dull throb. His jaw feels achy, his tongue swollen and uncooperative. He tries to sit up as Karen greets him. "How are you feeling, honey?" "Wisdom teeth?" he asks, his memory a haze. Karen smiles. "Yes, sweetie. You had surgery yesterday. Everything went fine." Plankton nods slowly, his eye searching hers for reassurance as Chip comes in to check on his dad. "Hey, Dad," Chip says, his voice soft. "How's the mouth?" Plankton's eye twitches. "Hurt," he manages, his words muffled by the swollen tissue. Karen brings Plankton ice packs. She knows his sensory sensitivities, and how this disruption can overwhelm him. "Thanks, love," he says, his voice a rasp. Karen knew that Plankton's autism means recovery will be more challenging, his senses heightened. "You have to stay calm," Karen instructs Chip, "He needs a quiet environment to heal." Chip nods as he sits on the bed next to Plankton. Plankton's eye opens slightly as the cold ice presses against his cheek. The chill runs through him, a stark relief against the heat of his swollen gums. "It's ok," Karen whispers, her voice a balm to his pain. "It'll help with the swelling." He nods, his hand gripping the ice pack tightly. The room is too bright, the sounds too sharp. His mind craves the familiar comfort of his routines, his stims, but his body won't cooperate. Karen notices his distress, her hand gentle as it brushes his forehead. "You need some space, Plankton?" she asks, reading his cues. He nods, his breath coming in shallow pants. She nods and goes to sit on her bed adjacent to his own. Yet Karen sees the struggle play out across his features with the effort to keep calm, his body tight with tension. Chip, still sitting by his dad, wants to help. He starts to fiddle with his fidget toy, the soft click-clack of the gears echoing in the silence. Plankton's eye snaps open, his gaze drawn to the movement. "Chip, stop," he mumbles, his voice a mixture of pain and irritation. But Chip, eager to distract his father from his own discomfort, doesn't hear the edge in Plankton's voice. The clicking grows faster, each movement a blur of colors and shapes. Plankton's heart starts to race, his body tensing. "Chip," he says more firmly this time. But Chip's fingers dance on the fidget, his eyes focused on his task. The noise and visual assault are too much for Plankton's sensitive system. His face contorts. "Chip, please," Plankton whispers, his voice strained. Chip finally looks up, his expression one of innocent curiosity. "What, Dad? I--" But he doesn't get to finish his sentence. Plankton's hand snatches the fidget toy, his movements jerky. The room seems to shrink, the air thick with tension. Chip's eyes widen, realizing his mistake. "Dad, I'm sor—" But Plankton's agitation has reached a peak. He thrusts the fidget toy away. The plastic clatters on the floor, a jolting sound that pierces the silence. "Too...much," he manages to get out, his voice strained. Chip's cheeks flush with embarrassment and guilt. He didn't mean to upset his father. He just wanted to help. "Sorry," Chip whispers, picking up the toy, which only makes Plankton's anger spike further. The sudden movement of Chip's hand, the sharp sound of the fidget— it's like a storm in his mind. "No!" Plankton yells, his voice raw. Chip freezes, his heart racing. "Dad," he starts, his voice shaky. "I didn't mean..." But Plankton's already flailing, trying to push away the chaos that's invaded his space. Karen quickly moves to intervene. "Chip," she says, her voice firm yet calm. "Remember what we talked about." Chip nods, understanding dawning on his face. He'd forgotten the rules of their world, the delicate balance that keeps Plankton's sanity intact. He'd wanted to help, but instead, he'd added to the storm raging within his dad. She takes the fidget toy from Chip, placing it on the nightstand. "I'm sorry," Plankton whispers, his eye darting around the room. He's lost in his own head, the pain making it difficult to focus. "It's ok," Karen soothes, her touch gentle on his arm. "Let's dim the lights and make it quieter." She pulls the shades closed, the harsh daylight retreating to a soft glow. Chip nods, his expression solemn. "I'll go to my room," he says, his voice small. Plankton's gaze meets his son's, a silent apology passing between them. "Thanks, buddy," he says, his voice a gruff whisper.

𝖳𝖮 𝖢𝖧𝖠𝖭𝖦𝖤 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖶𝖮𝖱𝖫𝖣 pt. 7 Sequel to Autism And All by NeuroFabulous https://emojicombos.com/autism-and-all Read the Autism And All one first! "Chip's just trying to understand. And so are you." But Plankton can't find the words, the weight of his son's accusations crushing him. He swipes at a tear that's managed to escape, his shoulders heaving. "I just want to be normal," he whispers, his voice barely audible. "To not be a disappointment." Karen's eyes are filled with love and sadness as she shakes her head. "You could never be a disappointment to me, Plankton. You're perfect just the way you are." But he stands up, turning away from her. "No, I'm not," he says, his back to her. "Look at what I've done. I've ruined our lives." His voice is thick with emotion. "I've made Chip resentful, and I've made you...sacrifice so much." Karen moves to his side, placing a hand on his arm. "You haven't ruined anything," she insists. "You're a wonderful husband, an—" "Don't," he snaps, turning to face her, the pain in his eyes like a physical force. "Don't lie to me. You deserve better than this. Better than a husband who can't even sit through a simple family outing without falling apart." His voice cracks, the weight of his words heavy in the quiet room. "You deserve someone who can give you a normal life!" Karen's eyes fill with determined love. "You are what makes our life normal, Plankton," she says, her voice steady. "Our life is special because of you. And as for Chip, he's just confused. He'll understand when he's older." But Plankton shakes his head, his hand coming up to cover his mouth, stifling a cry as he leaves their bedroom. He moves through the house, his bare feet silent on the cool floor, his thoughts a cacophony of doubt and self-loathing. His mind replays Chip's words over and over as he opens the back door, to the backyard. The porch creaks under his weight, his eye unfocused. Meanwhile, Karen goes in to Chip's bedroom. "Chip," she says, her voice soft but firm. "You need to apologize to your dad." He looks up, his eyes swollen from crying. "But I just want him to get better," he whispers, his voice small. "I don't like seeing him hurt." Karen sighs, sitting on the edge of his bed. "I know, sweetie. But your dad can't get 'better' from being autistic. It's not a sickness." She takes a deep breath, choosing her words carefully. "What your dad needs is for us to understand him, to make things easier for him. And for us to be patient when things are hard." Chip sniffs, wiping at his nose. "But it's not fair," he says, his voice a mix of anger and sadness. "Why does he get to be different?" Karen's eyes fill with compassion. "Because he is, Chip. And that's ok. We're all different, in our own ways. That's what makes us unique." She pauses, looking at him with a gentle expression. "But it's also what makes us a family." Plankton sits in the backyard. The stars twinkle above, their indifferent beauty a contrast to the tumult in his heart. He's heard the whispers before, the way people look at him—his inability to fit in, his strange behaviors. He's always known he was different. But to hear it from Chip...it's like a punch to the gut. His mind races, trying to make sense of it all. The world feels like a puzzle he can never solve, no matter how much he wants to. He's tried to be better, to do better, to be the husband and father his family deserves. But it's always just out of reach, like the elusive Krabby Patty formula he's chased for years. He looks down at his hands, still trembling slightly. In the quiet of the night, his stims come back, a comforting rhythm that soothes his frayed nerves. He starts to rock slightly, back and forth, his eye unfocused. It's a habit he's had since he was young, a way to calm the storm in his head. It's his brain's way of telling him he's safe, even when the world feels like it's closing in. He doesn't realize he's speaking until the words spill out. "I'm not enough," he whispers to the night. "I'll never be enough.." Back in the house, Karen holds Chip tight, her heart heavy with the weight of their conversation. She knows his frustrations are born out of love, but she also knows how much Chip's words sting Plankton. She needs to fix this, to mend the fracture in their family's foundation. "Come on, buddy," she says, wiping Chip's tears away. "Let's talk to your dad. He needs to hear you're sorry." Chip nods, his eyes red and swollen. Karen leads him to the back door, where they find Plankton, his gaze lost as he shivers uncontrollably. "Dad?" Chip says. Plankton's head snaps up, his eye wide with surprise. "What?" He says, his voice thick with pain. "I'm sorry," Chip whispers, his body trembling. "I didn't mean those things." Karen's gaze is firm, her voice steady. "We need to talk, Plankton," she says. "Both of you." She leads them back inside, the warmth of the house a stark contrast to the chill outside. Plankton allows himself to be guided, his mind a whirlwind. In the living room, they sit, a tapestry of emotions. Karen starts, her voice measured. "Chip, your dad doesn't mean to make things difficult. His brain just interprets the world differently." Chip looks up, his eyes wet. "But why can't he just try?" He asks, his voice desperate. "Why can't he just be normal?" Plankton flinches, his gaze dropping to the floor. Karen sighs, her hand wrapped around Plankton's. "Chip," she starts gently. "You know autism isn't a choice. Your dad's brain is different. It's like asking someone to change their eye color." Chip frowns, his young mind struggling to comprehend. "But why can't he just ignore it?" He asks, his voice small. Plankton looks up, his eye filled with a mix of anger and sadness. "Because it's not ignorable," he says, his voice firm. "It's like you're asking one to ignore breathing." The room falls silent, the gravity of his words sinking in. "It's always there, affecting how he sees, hears, feels." Chip's expression softens, a glimmer of understanding dawning. "Your dad does his best every day. And so do we, to support him. It's not about changing for him, Chip," she says. "It's about meeting him where he is. When someone's in a wheelchair, you don't tell them to climb the stairs. You build a ramp." Plankton nods slightly, his gaze still on the floor. "Autism is like that," Karen continues. "It's part of who he is, and we love him for all of him."

𝖳𝖮 𝖢𝖧𝖠𝖭𝖦𝖤 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖶𝖮𝖱𝖫𝖣 pt. 10 Sequel to Autism And All by NeuroFabulous https://emojicombos.com/autism-and-all Read the Autism And All one first! The house feels eerily quiet without Plankton's usual rambling. Chip sits in his room, his thoughts racing. He didn't mean to make his dad feel patronized or pitied. He just wanted to share something that had brought joy. He opens the book to where Plankton had torn it. The pages are jagged, but the message isn't lost. 'AUSOME AUsomeness'. It dawns on him how wrong he was to assume his dad's experience mirrored Timmy's. Autism isn't a one-size-fits-all, and he'd hurt his own father by not seeing him as an individual. Chip lies on his bed, staring at the ceiling, the weight of his mistake pressing down on him. He thinks about his dad's seizures, his stims, and the pain in his eye. What if he'd made his dad feel even more alone? The next day at school, Chip goes up to Timmy, his heart heavy. "Hey," he says, his voice low. "My dad, he saw the book I showed him, and he didn't like it." Timmy looks at him, his eyes full of concern. "Oh no, why?" He asks. Chip takes a deep breath. "He said it felt like I was making fun of him," he admits. "And I didn't mean to." Timmy nods, his hands still. "Everyone's different," he says. "Some of us can laugh about it, and some of us can't." He pauses. "But you tried, Chip. That's what matters." Chip nods, feeling a tiny bit better. Maybe he couldn't make his dad feel like a superhero, but at least he'd tried. "Hey Timmy, can you come over after school?" Chip asks. Timmy's eyes lit up. "Sure," he says. So after school Timmy follows Chip to his house. When they arrive, Karen greets them with a warm smile. "You must be Timmy," she says, shaking his hand. "I've heard so much about you." Timmy smiles shyly. "It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Plankton." They walk into the living room where Plankton is sitting, his gaze on the floor. Chip feels his heart race as Timmy enters. "Dad," Chip says, his voice shaky. "This is Timmy." Plankton looks up, his eye narrowing slightly. Timmy takes the lead, his hands flapping slightly as he speaks. "Hi, Mr. Plankton," he says, his voice earnest. "Chip told me you're like me." Plankton looks between the two of them, his expression unreadable. "How so?" Plankton challenges. Timmy takes a deep breath, his eyes darting to Chip for support. "Well," he starts, "we're both autistic." Plankton's gaze sharpens, his posture stiffening. Timmy looks at his own hands, which are still flapping slightly. "It means my brain works differently," he says, his voice steady. "But that's not all bad. It's like having a superpower, sometimes." He smiles, his eyes finding Chip's. "Like, I'm really good at math, and I can remember things other people forget. What's your autistic powers, Mr. Plankton?" Plankton's eye widens. No one's ever asked him that before. "I...I don't know," he says slowly, his voice unsure and flustered. Timmy nods. "Well, if you ever want to talk about it, I'm here," he says, his voice gentle. "It's not always easy, but it's not always bad either." He sits down next to Plankton, his hands now still. Karen watches from the kitchen with hope. Maybe Timmy could show Plankton that his autism isn't something to be ashamed of, but something that makes him uniquely him. Plankton's eye flickers towards Timmy, and for a moment, Chip sees a glimpse of curiosity. "I'm an inventor," he says, his voice still guarded. "I can create things that no one else can." Timmy nods, his face serious. "That's awesome," he says. "My superpower is that I never forget a face once I've seen it. It's pretty useful when you've got a memory like a steel trap." The two of them sit in silence for a few moments, the tension in the room dissipating slightly. Then, Timmy speaks up again. "You know, Mr. Plankton," he says, his voice earnest. "Sometimes, it's good to have someone else who gets it." He looks at his own hands, which have started flapping again. "Someone who won't stare or judge." Plankton looks at Timmy, his expression unreadable. Sensing an opening, Karen interjects, her voice soft. "Plankton, maybe talking to Timmy could help. You've always said you felt lonely in your own world, maybe he can shine some li-" "I don't need a support group," Plankton snaps, but his tone lacks its usual bite. "I need my family to understand me." His gaze meets Chip's, and the hurt in his eye is unmistakable. Timmy nods, his hands still in his lap. "I get that," he says, his voice calm. "But sometimes, it's nice to know you're not the only one with superpowers, you kn-" "Don't," Plankton cuts him off, his voice sharp. "Don't call it that." But Timmy isn't deterred. "Okay," he says, his tone respectful. "But yo-" "I'm not a child, Timmy," Plankton says, his voice strained. "I don't need to be told bedtime stories to make me feel better about my condition." Chip feels his chest tighten as he watches his dad's reaction. Timmy's eyes are filled with understanding. "It's not a bedtime story, Mr. Plankton," he says, his voice calm. "It's a way to see th-" "I said DON'T," Plankton's voice rises, his frustration evident. Chip feels his stomach drop. This isn't going well. But Timmy doesn't back down. "But Mr. Plankton," he says, his voice firm but gentle. "You're not just a scientist, you're a person too. And people need to feel seen, understood, and valued. Maybe this book isn't for you, but it's for others like us-" "Like us?" Plankton repeats, his voice cold. "Don't you dare lump me in with you, young man. My autism is not a game or a gimmick. It's a part of me, yes, but it's not something to be used to make my son feel better about himself." Timmy's face falls, but his voice remains steady. "I'm sorry if it came across that way," he says. "That wasn't my intent." Karen steps in, trying to defuse the situation. "Plankton, maybe we're all just tr-" But Plankton cuts her off. "I'm tired of being the lesson," he says, his voice shaking. "I'm tired of being someone's 'project'. I'm not your science experiment because in the real world, people don't get it." He turns to Chip. "And you, thinking you can just fix me with a book? Some people don't get a happy ending, Chip." The anger in his voice makes Chip flinch. Timmy looks from Plankton to Chip, his eyes wide. "I didn't mean to cause any trouble," he says, his voice small. "I just...I just thought maybe we could learn from each other." Plankton's gaze remains on the floor. "Life's not that simple," he says, his voice weary. "You think a book can change how people see me?" He shakes his head, his frustration palpable. "Why don't we all just put on capes and pretend we're superheroes?" The sarcasm stings, but Chip knows he's not mad at Timmy. He's mad at the world, at the unfairness of it all. Timmy's hands start to flap again, his body responding to the tension in the room. "Mr. Plankton," he says, his voice earnest. "I know it's not easy. But sometimes, finding someone who gets it ca--" "GETS IT?" Plankton's voice echoes through the room. "You might have autism, like I do, but we're not the same!" He slams his fist down on the table, the force of it making the china rattle. "You don't know what it's like for me! When I was in school, teachers tied my hands to my chair to make me stop flapping! Do you have any idea how tha-" "Plankton!" Karen gasps with shocked surprise. She never heard of that before. "You never talked about that," she says, her voice trembling as she approaches him, her hands reaching out in a comforting gesture. Plankton's eye meets hers, and for a moment, the anger seems to drain from his face, replaced by a deep sadness. But he's not done. "That was almost child's play compared to the time when a teacher had explained to the class that I was 'lesser', and that, because of my autism, I wasn't capable of living a 'worthwhile' life and also deserved to be institutionalized, since I was just a drain on society," Plankton says, his voice trembling with rage. Timmy's hands stop moving altogether, his eyes wide with horror. "That's terrible," he whispers, his voice barely audible. "But Mr. Plankton, you have so much to offer. You're smart and you have a son that loves yo-" "Don't," Plankton says, his voice a warning. "Don't you dare try to erase my pain with your childish optimism." Timmy's eyes fill with understanding, his hands falling still. "I'm sorry," he says, his voice low. "I know it's not the same for everyone. But sometimes, finding strength in the way we're different can help." He looks down at his hands, his voice barely above a whisper. "I just wanted to share that wi-" But Plankton's had enough. He stands, his body rigid. "I don't need a pep talk," he says. "I need you to see me as I am." He walks away.

𝖳𝖮 𝖢𝖧𝖠𝖭𝖦𝖤 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖶𝖮𝖱𝖫𝖣 pt. 11 Sequel to Autism And All by NeuroFabulous https://emojicombos.com/autism-and-all Read the Autism And All one first! The room feels like it's shrunk, the air thick with unspoken words. Chip's chest tightens, his eyes stinging. He'd never wanted to make his dad feel like this. Timmy looks at him, his expression full of sympathy. "It's okay," he says, his voice soothing. "He's just scared." They sit in silence for a while, the only sound the steady ticking of the clock on the mantel. Chip's mind is racing, trying to piece together what went wrong. How could something that brought Timmy so much joy cause so much pain for his dad? Timmy breaks the silence, his voice soft. "Sometimes, it's hard for people to accept help," he says. "Especially when it feels like you're trying to change them." He looks at Chip, his eyes understanding. "But you can't make anyone feel something they're not ready to." Chip nods, feeling a lump form in his throat. "But what do we do now?" He asks, desperation lacing his voice. Timmy shrugs. "Let's go apologize.." They find Plankton sitting on his bed in the bedroom. Chip's heart raced as they approached. "Dad," he starts, his voice shaking. "Timmy and I, we just want to say we're sorry." Plankton looks up, his eye twitching slightly. "You can't fix me." Timmy nods as Karen comes in. "But we can still be there for you," he says, his voice earnest. "And maybe, we can learn together." Plankton's gaze meets Timmy's, his expression unreadable. But before anyone can say another word, Plankton's body shifts. Suddenly, his eye glazed over, and he starts to rock back and forth, his hands flapping rapidly. "Dad?" Chip asks, his voice filled with fear; but Karen understands. "It's okay," Karen says. "It's one of his seizures." Timmy's eyes widen, his hands stilling in mid-air. "What's happening?" He asks. Karen explains in a calm, steady voice. "It's called a non-motor seizure. Sometimes it's just his brain doing its own thing. We have to be quiet and let it pass. This isn't the first time." Chip watches as Plankton's body rocks back and forth, his eye unfocused. He feels a rush of fear and helplessness. This is his dad, his hero, reduced to this by something he can't control. Timmy nods, his eyes never leaving Plankton. Karen quickly moves to Plankton's side. "Remember, Chip," she whispers, her voice calm. "Just let it run its course. It's like a storm passing through." Chip nods, his eyes glued to his dad's trembling form. Timmy sits silently beside them, his hands still in his lap as Plankton's seizure unfolds. His rocking becomes more pronounced, his breathing shallow and rapid. Karen holds his hand, her expression a mask of concern. "It's okay, sweetie," she murmurs. "You're sa-" But Plankton's body jolts, his eye rolling back in his head. Chip watches his dad's autistic behavior take over in a way he's never seen before. Timmy's eyes are wide with shock. "Is he okay?" He whispers to Karen. She nods. "It'll be over soon," she promises. "It's just part of his autism." The minutes drag on, each second feeling like an eternity. Plankton's seizure subsides, his body finally still. His breathing evens out, and the color starts to return to his cheeks. Chip feels a weight lift from his chest. "It's over," Karen whispers, her hand still gripping Plankton's. Timmy looks at Chip, his eyes full of unspoken questions. Plankton slowly opens his eye. Timmy's eyes are full of concern. "Are you okay, Mr. Plankton?" But Plankton doesn't answer. He's staring at something on the wall, something only he can see. His hand reaches out, flapping slightly, as if trying to grab onto an invisible thought. But Karen's been through this before. She knows what to do. She whispers to Timmy, "It's okay. This is just his brain's way of handling too much input." Timmy nods, his eyes glued to Plankton. As Plankton's body slowly relaxes, his voice starts, a string of words that don't quite make sense. "The... the...the...spoons," Plankton says, his voice distant. Chip and Timmy exchange confused glances. Karen squeezes Plankton's hand. "It's okay, baby," she whispers. "You're okay." Plankton's eye moved around the room, his hands flapping slightly. "The... the...the...spoons," he repeats. Karen's face relaxes into understanding. "Echolalia," she whispers to Chip and Timmy. "It's a way his brain reboots after a seizure." Timmy nods, his gaze still on Plankton. "I know about that," he says. "It's like my brain's playing back a tape of everything that's happened, trying to make sense of it." Plankton's voice gradually gains clarity. "The spoons...they...they're..." Chip watches, his heart in his throat, as his dad's hand still flutters in the air, his eye unfocused. "It's a sensory thing," Karen says, keeping her voice low. "Sometimes, his brain gets overwhelmed." Plankton's voice grows stronger, the words more random. "The...the...did," he says, his hand moving in patterns that seem to have a rhythm only he can understand. "They were...were...were..." Karen's eyes never leave Plankton's, her gaze full of patience and love. "Just breathe, baby," she says, her voice soothing. "Take your time.." Timmy watches, his expression a mix of curiosity and concern. "What's he saying?" He whispers. "It's okay," Karen reassures both Timmy and Chip. "It's just his brain trying to find it's bearings. Just let him find his way back." Plankton's words become more nonsensical, his hand still moving through the air as his voice cracks. "They...they were...were..." His eye flickers, and he swallows hard. "They were always...always..." Timmy's eyes never leave Plankton's, his gaze filled with understanding and compassion. He's been here before, in his own way. His hands start to move slightly again, as if he's trying to connect with Plankton's thoughts. "It's okay," he whispers. "You don't have to push." But Plankton's voice doesn't listen. "They were always...always... were...were...pats," he says, his hand moving in a pattern that makes no sense to him. Chip feels his heart break for his dad. This isn't the first time he's seen a seizure, but every time, it's like watching a piece of Plankton get taken away, leaving behind a man who's lost in his own world. Timmy, though, seems to understand. He reaches out his own hand, mirroring Plankton's movements. "It's okay," he says again. "We're here for yo-" But Plankton isn't listening. "They were always...were...pats," he repeats, his voice getting louder. "They were always pats!" He starts to chuckle. "Pats, pats, pats!" His hand hits the bed. Karen smiles sadly. "Plankton, I see you," she says, her voice a whisper. "You'll come back to us." Chip watches, his heart racing. Timmy's eyes are wide with understanding. He's seen this before in himself. "It's okay," he says, his voice calm. "You can come back whenever you're ready." Plankton's hand still flaps. "I'm here, Mr. Plankton," Timmy says. "You're not al—" But Plankton's voice rose in pitch. "The...tck...tck..." He's ticcing now, Chip realized. Each syllable punctuated with a sharp, staccato twitch of his face. "Tck...tck...tck..." Karen's grip on Plankton's hand tightens slightly, her eyes full of love and understanding. "You're okay," she murmurs, her voice steady. "Just let it out. It's okay." Karen turns to them. "This helps him," she whispers. "It's like...like releasing pressure." Timmy nods, his own hands still in his lap. "I get tics too," he says, his voice barely audible. "But not like that." He looks at Chip. "Sometimes it's ju—" But then, with a blink, Plankton comes back to himself. He looks around the room, confused. "What...what happened?" He asks, his voice slurred. Karen smiles gently. "You had a seizure, sweetie," she says. "But you're okay now."

𝖳𝖮 𝖢𝖧𝖠𝖭𝖦𝖤 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖶𝖮𝖱𝖫𝖣 pt. 12 Sequel to Autism And All by NeuroFabulous https://emojicombos.com/autism-and-all Read the Autism And All one first! Timmy watches him, his expression a mix of empathy and curiosity. "Is that normal?" He asks, his voice soft. Karen nods. "It's part of his autism," she says. "And his seizures. Sometimes his brain just needs a moment to recalibrate." Plankton looks at Timmy, his eye searching. "Do you...do you ever feel like that?" He asks, his voice tentative. Timmy nods. "Sometimes," he admits. "But not like that. My tics are more... predictable." He shows them his hands, which have started to move again. "It's like...like a little dance my brain does." The room feels a little less heavy as Plankton's tics slow, his hand coming to rest. "It's okay," Timmy says, his voice gentle. "We're here." Plankton nods, his gaze flitting around the room before settling on Chip. "I'm sorry," he says, embarrassed. "You don't have to apologize," Karen says, stroking his arm. "It's just part of who you are." But Plankton's eye is still on Chip, his expression uncertain. "I don't want you to be scared of me," he says. Timmy looks from Plankton to Chip, his eyes thoughtful. "You know," he says, "I used to think my tics were something to hide. Something wrong with me." He pauses. "But then I realized, they're just how my brain works. And sometimes, they're even pretty cool." He grins, his hands moving in a complex pattern. "Like, if I flap just right, I can make things fall over." He laughs, his eyes sparkling. Chip can't help but smile at Timmy's candidness. Plankton, though, remains silent. Timmy's words hang in the air, a gentle reminder that autism isn't just about the struggles, but the unique quirks that make them who they are. Chip's mind whirls with the weight of his dad's apology. "You don't have to be sorry for being you," Chip says finally, his voice shaking. Plankton looks at him, his expression unreadable. "But I don't want you to be afraid," he says. "I don't want you to think I'm a monster." Timmy's smile fades. "You're not," he says firmly. "You're my friend's dad. And you're a person, just like me." Karen nods, her screen shiny with unshed tears. "He's right, Plankton," she says. "You're more than just your autism." But Plankton's gaze remains fixed on Chip. "I just want you to understand," he says. "I'm not like everyone else." Chip swallows hard, his throat tight. "I do," he whispers. "I see you." Timmy then shifts. "I've to go, but I'll see you at school, Chip!" Timmy leaves, and Chip moves closer to his dad. "Dad," he says, his voice quiet. "I'm not afraid of you. I'm afraid f-for you." Plankton's eye blinks, his hand stopping momentarily. "You don't have to hide from me," Chip continues. "Your tics, your stims, your seizures...they're just part of who you are." The next day, Timmy goes to the Krusty Krab to get himself a Krabby Patty. Mr. Krabs, the owner of the Krusty Krab restaurant, sees Timmy waving his hands. Mr. Krabs, a burly red crab known for his love for money and quick temper, doesn't understand Timmy's behavior. "What's the ruckus for?" He barks. Timmy's eyes dart around, his hands flapping faster. "I-I-I'm just...just..." He stammers, his words tangling in his mouth. Mr. Krabs raises an eyebrow. "Ye okay, kid?" He asks, his tone gruff but concerned. Timmy nods, his hands still moving. "I'm just excited," he says, his voice quick. "I-I-I like Krabby Patties." Mr. Krabs' expression shifts. "What's wi-" "I have autism," Timmy says, his voice clear. "It makes me flap and talk fast when I'm excited." Mr. Krabs looks confused, his claws paused mid-air. "A- uh...what's that?" He asks, his usual gruffness replaced by curiosity. Timmy takes a deep breath. "It's like my brain works different," he explains. "Some things are hard for me, but I see things others might miss. It's a type of...neuro-diversity. My grandma has it as well, and they think I've inherited it. It can manifest in different ways, being why it's called Autistic Spectrum. I've always been this way! There's no 'cure' but I'm proud of who I am. Autism is classified as a disability, yet it's also a gift, really. And sorry for rambling on, sir.." Mr. Krabs nods thoughtfully. "So, what exactly is the autism spectrum? And what type of disability is it?" He asks Timmy. Timmy smiles, happy to explain. "The autism spectrum is like a rainbow of brains," he says. "Some people are at one end and others are at the other, and everyone's different. It's like we're all unique snowflakes, but with brains instead of snow." He pauses, then continues. "It means we process things differently. Some of us have challenges with social interactions or sensory overload.." Mr. Krabs nods slowly, his claws still. "So, it's like, sometimes you see a Krabby Patty and it's just so good you can't help but wave your hands?" He asks, his eyes twinkling with the beginnings of understanding. Timmy laughs, his hands stopping for a moment. "Sort of," he says. "But it's more than just being happy. Sometimes it's hard to communicate or deal with too much noise or touch." Mr. Krabs looks concerned. "What do ye mean?" Timmy takes a deep breath, his hands starting to flap again. "Well, if it's too loud or too bright, or if someone touches me in a way that feels weird, my brain gets overwhelmed. It's like my brain is a computer and it's trying to run too many programs at once. It can be really tough." Mr. Krabs' expression softens. "I had no idea," he says. "But you're still a good kid." Timmy nods, his smile genuine. "And it's okay to ask questions," he adds. "That's how we learn. And as for communicating, it can be hard for an autistic person to find the right words, but it doesn't mean we don't have anything important to say. But misunderstandings can happen because of it. And the big emotions can come out in ways that seem unexpected. So my flapping is a way to communicate my joy. And it's important to let us express ourselves without judgment." Mr. Krabs looks down at his claws, realizing their potential for harm. "I'm sorry if I made ye uncomfortable, Timmy," he says, his voice low. "I didn't mean to. I just...I don't think I've ever really talked to someone with autism before." Timmy's hands still. "It's okay," he says. "Lots of people don't know what it's like. That's why it's important to tell them. And it can be hard to tell, because everyone's experience is so different." Mr. Krabs nods, his eyes thoughtful. "I see," he says. "So, what can I do to make your dining experience here today more comfortable? I want to make sure you're happy." Timmy's smile grows. "Well, thank you, Mr. Krabs," he says. "Could I maybe sit in a quieter corner?" He suggests. "And maybe I could have my Krabby Patty without the pickles?" Mr. Krabs' eyes widen. "Of course, Timmy," he says, snapping his claws. "I'll get that taken care of right away." He turns to his staff. "Ye heard the boy!" He barks. "Give Timmy a VIP seat and get him his Krabby Patty, no pickles, and make it snappy!" The employees jump into action, and within moments, Timmy is seated in a quiet corner of the restaurant, his Krabby Patty steaming on the table in front of him. Mr. Krabs sits down opposite him. "So, tell me more about this autism thing," he says, his eyes genuinely curious. "How does it affect folks?" Timmy takes a bite of his sandwich, savoring the taste. "Well," he says thoughtfully, his chewing slowing down. "It's like we see the world through a different lens. Some of us have super senses—like I can hear the fryer sizzling from across the room, and noise can hurt my ears—but others might not notice at all." Mr. Krabs leans in with interest. "And what about stimming?" He asks. "Is that what you call it when you wave your hands around?" Timmy nods, swallowing his food. "Yes," he says. "Stimming is self-stimulating behavior. It helps us focus and deal with the sensory input. Like, when I'm excited about something, I flap. That's just my own way of stimming. But not all autistic people do." Mr. Krabs nods, his claw tapping the table. "And what about social stuff?" He asks. Timmy thinks for a moment. "Some of us find it hard to read social cues," he says. "It's like everyone's playing a game of charades, and we don't know the rules. And some people might not like to be touched, or they might not understand jokes right away. But that doesn't mean we don't have feelings or want to be friends." Mr. Krabs considers this, his eyes thoughtful. "So, it's like each one of ye has a secret handshake, but it's not really a handshake at all?" Timmy grins. "Exactly!" He says. "Everyone's got their own way of saying hello. And it's okay if we don't always get it right. What's important is trying to understand each other." Mr. Krabs nods slowly. "I see," he says. "I wanna make sure that everyone who comes here feels welcome. I mean, all the autistic folks." Timmy's eyes lit up. "Thank you," he says. "That means a lot!"

𝖳𝖮 𝖢𝖧𝖠𝖭𝖦𝖤 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖶𝖮𝖱𝖫𝖣 pt. 13 Sequel to Autism And All by NeuroFabulous https://emojicombos.com/autism-and-all Read the Autism And All one first! Mr. Krabs calls over his top chef, SpongeBob. "SpongeBob!" He yells. "We're going to start an 'Autism Awareness Day' at the Krusty Krab!" Sponge Bob's eyes widen in excitement. "Oh, Mr. Krabs that's so nice! Wait, when did you figure out I have it?" Sponge Bob's revelation silences the room for a moment. Timmy looks at him with a new found respect. "You do?" He asks. "Yeah, I was diagnosed when I was a kid," SpongeBob says, his eyes shyly looking down at his spatula. "But for me, I can have a hard time telling when people are sad or angry. But I also feel like it's what makes me so good at my job. I've memorized the entire employee handbook!" He laughs. "I haven't met anyone that I know of, other than you now Timmy, who's autistic though." Mr. Krabs nods, his gaze thoughtful. "I had no idea," he says. "But you know what? That's a strength. And from now on, we're going to make the Krusty Krab a place where everyone feels welcome, especially our autistic friends. I'd no idea, Sponge Bob! But if ye ever feel like ye need to talk, me office is always open!" The next day, Mr. Krabs announces to the town that the Krusty Krab will be hosting an Autism Awareness Day, where the menu will have additions to cater to the sensory needs of autistic customers. The news spreads fast, and soon, families with autistic children are lining up outside the restaurant. So after Chip left for school, Plankton sneaks a peek at the rival restaurant. Krabs is outside, chatting with Sponge Bob, who's now wearing a neon badge that reads 'Autism Awareness Champion'. Plankton watches, his antennae twitching with confusion. He's not used to seeing his enemy being... nice? "Karen, do you see Krabs? The guy who's stepped on me is calling himself a friend to autistics! I don't know whether to laugh or cry.." Plankton says. Karen nods, her gaze following Plankton's. "Well, he doesn't know yo--" "I know," Plankton cuts in, his voice tight. "But it's still...it's just..." He can't find the words. "It's just weird. I'm sneaking over there." And without waiting for Karen's response, Plankton bolts. His tiny legs carry him quickly, his eye locked on Krabs. He decides to eavesdrop. Krabs is speaking to a mother with a young boy. "Your son is welcome here," he says. "I promise we'll do our best to accommodate him." She smiles gratefully. Plankton watches, his heart racing. Krabs, the man who has caused him so much grief, is now advocating for the very thing he's struggled with his entire life. It's unsettling. He sees Krabs gently guide a nonverbal child away from the noise and bustle of the kitchen. Inside, there's a quiet play area with fidget toys and weighted blankets. The menu now includes sensory-friendly options, and the staff is wearing pins with the same message as SpongeBob's badge. "Autism Awareness Champion." Plankton's mind whirs. He made sure Krabs never found out about his autism, so he can perhaps act like he also belongs, and watch Krabs hypocrisy when he taunts his secretly autistic enemy! Plankton chuckles as he goes to the register when Krabs spots him. "What are ye doing here?" Mr. Krabs barks. "Plankton, you know you're not welcome!" Plankton's antennae twitch, trying to hide the urge to smirk. "Gimme a patty," Plankton says, his voice deliberately casual. Mr. Krabs' eyes narrow. "I don't think so," he says, his tone cold. "You're just here to steal me formular!" Plankton's antennae twitch in annoyance, but he plays along. "No, Mr. Krabs," he says, his voice measured. "I just came for a bite to eat. Thought I'd support your...new initiative." His voice is heavy with sarcasm, but Mr. Krabs misses the cue. "Initiative?" He snaps his claws. "It's not just an initiative, it's about respect! Understanding! We're making this p-" "Yeah, right," Plankton says, forcing a smirk. "As if yo--" "Plankton, how many times do I have to tell ye?" Mr. Krabs sighs, his eyes flashing with frustration. "You're not welcome here; never will you get to taste the Krabby Patty!" But Plankton's mind is racing. He can't believe what he's seeing. Mr. Krabs, the man who's always dismissed his differences, now embracing autism? It's like a twisted joke that he's not in on. He watches as Krabs helps another child, this one with a headset to block out the noise. The sight makes him feel both angry and...envious? So he stayed stubbornly firm, wanting to see how far this can go. Mr. Krabs crosses his arms. "I'm just trying to do the right thing. I have a friend," he says. "Someone special. And I've learned that everyone deserves to be seen for who they are." Plankton's eye widens slightly, but he keeps his poker face. "Is that so?" He says. "Well, I des-" "But you," Mr. Krabs says, his voice hard. "You're just here to cause trouble." Plankton feels a pang of frustration. How could Krabs be so blind to his own hypocrisy? "Krabs, you don't kno—" But Mr. Krabs won't let him finish. "No, Plankton," he says. "You don't get to play this game with me today. This isn't about you. It's about autistics, who deserve a place where they can be themselves without worry." Plankton's smirk fades, his eye darting around the room, seeing the smiling faces of the customers. "I am a-" "You're just here to steal my recipe!" Mr. Krabs roars, cutting Plankton off. "I'm not stupid like you, and I'm not gonna let the likes of you ruin this for everyone else.." The claws come down, hard and sharp, pinching Plankton's arm. He yelps in pain, his eye widening. The room goes blurry around the edges as he feels the sting, the pain. Mr. Krabs' face is a mask of fury, his eyes narrowed to slits. "Get out," he says, his voice cold. "You're not welcome here." But Plankton is frozen, his body trembling with the sudden flare of pain. He tries to pull away, his voice a mix of surprise and anger. "What are you doing?" He stammers. "You're hurt-" Mr. Krabs' grip tightens, his claws digging into Plankton's skin. "I said, get out," he repeats, his voice like steel. "You're not welcome here." Plankton feels his cheeks burning with humiliation and rage. How dare this crustacean, who has never understood him, claim to be an ally to his kind? He wrenches his arm free, rubbing the red marks. But then Mr. Krabs' fist comes down, connecting with Plankton's already hurt arm. The pain is sudden and intense, like a bolt of lightning shooting through his body. Plankton's legs give out, and his vision swims, but his body won't respond. He can feel the overwhelm started happening in his brain, a sensation he's felt many times before. It's like the world is spinning around him, but he's stuck in place. He's gonna have a generalized non-motor seizure, and he knows it. The customers gasp, and Mr. Krabs' eyes widen. "What's going on?" He yells, his voice echoing in Plankton's ears. The world goes quiet, and Plankton can feel his body twitching, his muscles spasming in response to the electrical storm in his brain. Another seizure, another complete loss of control. He hits the floor, his body convulsing. He tries to call out for help, but the only thing that comes out is a garbled mess of sounds, his mouth not quite forming the words he needs. His vision flickers, going in and out like a broken neon sign. He can hear voices around him, but they're muted. Spongebob rushes over, his eyes wide. "Mr. Krabs, what's wrong with him?" He asks. Mr. Krabs is frozen, his fists still clenched. "I don't know," he says, his voice tight. "I just hurt his arm..." One of the customer's eyes widen with realization. "It's a seizure," she says. Sponge Bob's eyes widen, his spatula dropping to the floor with a clatter. "Mr. Krabs, we have to help him! I'll get a first aid kit!" He yells, his voice shaking. The mother with the flapping child kneels beside Plankton, her face a mask of understanding. "I've seen this happen before. It can happen to some autistic people, as a result of stress or sensory overload." She says, as Sponge Bob returns with the first aid kit. The mother sighs, her eyes never leaving Plankton. "I've seen it happen to my son," she says gently. "It's part of his autism. It's called a non-epileptic seizure. It's not to dangerous, yet it can be scary for him." Mr. Krabs stammers; "I didn't know," he says, his voice small. "I just..." His gaze drops to the floor, as he finally realizes that Plankton is a part of the community he's supposed to be championing. The room is a blur of movement around Plankton as the staff and customers scramble to help, but all he can focus on is the pain in his arm, the embarrassment. Sponge Bob returns with a first aid kit, eyes wide with concern as he goes to bandage the arm. "Here, let me help," he says, his touch is surprisingly comforting as he carefully wraps the bandage around the injured area. Plankton can feel the warmth of his compassion through the cotton material. The mother nods. "It's just his way of dealing with it all. Sometimes, their bodies just...react." She pauses, her gaze flicking to Mr. Krabs, who is still standing frozen with shock. "But it's not always like this. Sometimes, they just need extra understanding." Mr. Krabs stammers, his gaze falling to Plankton's twitching form. "He's... autistic, too." "Yes, he's having a non- epileptic seizure," the mother says gently. "It's something that can happen to some autistics when overwhelmed." Mr. Krabs watches, his claws trembling slightly. "I'm so sorry, Plankton," he says, his voice filled with genuine regret. "I didn't know Plankton, can ye hear me?" Plankton's body gradually stills, the storm in his brain passing. His eye flutters open, and he looks up to see Mr. Krabs and Sponge Bob hovering above him, the mother still beside him.

𝖳𝖮 𝖢𝖧𝖠𝖭𝖦𝖤 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖶𝖮𝖱𝖫𝖣 pt. 14 Sequel to Autism And All by NeuroFabulous https://emojicombos.com/autism-and-all Read the Autism And All one first! "Plankton, are you ok?" Sponge Bob asks, his voice trembling. Plankton blinks slowly, the world swimming into focus. He feels...exposed. Vulnerable. He hates that. But he nods, his voice a whisper. "I-I-I-I…think s-so?" Mr. Krabs looms over them, his expression a mixture of shock and regret. "I didn't know," he says again, his voice cracking. "I had no ide-" "Please" Plankton says, his voice hoarse. He doesn't have the energy to be angry anymore. His body feels like it's made of jelly, and his arm throbs where Mr. Krabs' claw had been. But he understands now. Mr. Krabs is trying, in his own way, to make things right. And maybe, just maybe, Plankton can show his enemy what it means to be an ally. Mr. Krabs nods, his eyes shiny. "I promise," he says. "I'll do better. For you, for all of you." Plankton looks up at his enemy. Mr. Krabs looks down at his own hands, now trembling. "I'm sorry, Plankton," he says, his voice thick with emotion. "I didn't underst--" But Plankton cuts him off, his tiny body pushing itself up onto his elbows. "You don't get it," he says, his voice shaking with anger. "You think you can just throw around words like 'respect' and 'understanding' and pretend to care about autism? After all you've done to me?" His words hang in the air like accusations, sharp and painful. Mr. Krabs looks at him, his eyes softening slightly. "Plankton, I-I didn't know," he stammers. "I just...I just want to help. I don't want to fight anymore." But Plankton's not having it. He glares up at him, his tiny fists balled. "Help?" He spits out the word. "You think this is helping? You think excluding me from your 'Autism Awareness' shindig makes you a champion?" His voice is hoarse from the seizure, but the anger in it is clear. "Well you're wrong, Krabs. You're not helping anyone by ignoring me!" Mr. Krabs' expression falls, his claws dropping to his sides. "I-I didn't know," he repeats, his voice now just a whisper. "I didn't know ye were autisti-" But Plankton isn't listening. With a grunt, he pulls himself to his feet, the pain in his arm fading to a dull throb. "You don't know anything," he says, his voice shaking. "You think you can just throw a party and call yourself an ally? It's not about you, Krabs." He turns to leave, his legs unsteady, but his determination firm. He's had enough of the Krusty Krab's insincere attention. He doesn't need his pity or their half-hearted attempts at inclusivity. He just needs to get out of there, away from the prying eyes and the whispers of concern. Walking home, Plankton's mind whirs with thoughts of Mr. Krabs' ignorance and his own fury. He's used to the taunts and the jokes, but this...this was different. This was supposed to be a place where autistic people were celebrated, not a stage for someone to play the hero. The irony isn't lost on him—his enemy, the man who has belittled him for years, now claiming to stand up for his community. When Plankton comes back, Karen greets him as usual. "Hey, Plankton," she says. But her smile falters when she sees his expression. "What happened?" Plankton shakes his head, his eye downcast. "It's...nothing," he mumbles, his voice tight. He can't bring himself to tell her about the seizure, about Mr. Krabs' finding out. But Karen's not so easily fooled. She takes one look at his bandaged arm and the haunted look in his eye and knows something's off. "What happened?" She asks again, her tone gentle but insistent. Plankton sighs, his antennae drooping. "Mr. Krabs," he says, his voice tight. "He...he found out." Karen's eyes widen in understanding. "And?" She prompts gently as he removes his bandages. Plankton's arm is a mess of red marks and bruises, a stark testament to Krabs' mistaken anger. "And he said he's sorry," Plankton says, his voice still tight with emotion. "He said he wants to help." But there's a bitter edge to his words that tells Karen all she needs to know about how Plankton really feels. She nods, her expression thoughtful. "Well, maybe this could be a good thing," she says. "Maybe it'll help him understand. Maybe it'll make things better between you two." But Plankton's not so optimistic. "Or maybe," he says, his voice a mix of anger and disappointment. "Maybe he'll just use it against me." Karen's expression softens, and she reaches out to gently pat his antennae. "Plankton," she says. "You can't control how others react. But you can control how you respond." Plankton sighs, his body slumping into the chair. He knows she's right, but it's hard to let go of the anger. He thinks back to the way Krabs' claws felt on his arm, the way his vision had swirled and his body had betrayed him. He's used to hiding his autism, keeping it a secret from those who wouldn't understand. But now, his deepest, most vulnerable part has been laid bare before his enemy. He shakes his head. "I don't know, Karen," he says, his voice small. "I just...I can't trust him." Karen nods, her gaze understanding. "I get it," she says. "But maybe, just maybe, he's trying to be better." Plankton stays silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on the floor. He's not used to this, to feeling so exposed. He's spent his entire life hiding his autism from everyone, especially Krabs. And now, it's out there. His enemy knows his deepest vulnerability. With a sigh, he pushes himself up from the chair and heads to the bedroom, the solace of his small, controlled space. The doors clicks shut behind him, blocking out the sounds of Karen's kitchen and the distant laughter of passing fish. In the quiet, Plankton begins to stim. He rocks back and forth, his eye unfocused. The bedroom is a haven, his personal space filled with comforting items that help soothe his senses. He picks up his favorite fidget toy, the tiny plastic pieces clicking together in a rhythm that matches the beating of his heart. The repetitive motion calms him, centers him, as he tries to process the day's events. "Echo...echolal...lal...lal...la," Plankton murmurs to himself, his voice low and soothing. It's a word he heard earlier, a word that now holds a new meaning for him. He rolls it around his mouth, feeling the shape of it, the sound of it. It's a part of him now, a piece of his identity that he's still trying to understand.

𝖳𝖮 𝖢𝖧𝖠𝖭𝖦𝖤 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖶𝖮𝖱𝖫𝖣 pt. 15 Sequel to Autism And All by NeuroFabulous https://emojicombos.com/autism-and-all Read the Autism And All one first! That same evening, Karen finds Krabs at the door. "What do you want?" She asks, her voice cool. But there's a desperation in his eyes that she's never seen before. "I-I want to talk to Plankton," he stammers. "I need to...apologize." Karen raises an eyebrow, surprise flickering across her screen. "What makes you think he'll want to talk to you?" Mr. Krabs' expression falls, his claws twitching nervously. "I know I've hurt him," he says, his voice cracking. "But I want to make it right." So he follows Karen in. Plankton sits in his room, his fidget toy clicking rhythmically. "Palilal...pali... lal...lal," he murmurs to the quiet space, as Karen and Krabs enter. The room's soft light highlights the intensity of his focus, his antennae twitching slightly with each word. Krabs watches him, his eyes filled with concern and curiosity. "What's going on, Plankton?" He asks. Plankton starts, his rhythm disrupted. He looks up, his face flushing with a mix of embarrassment and anger. "It's nothing," he says, his voice sharp. But Karen steps in, placing a gentle hand on Krabs' arm. "It's called echolalia," she explains softly. "It's a way for him to cope, to repeat words that have meaning to him. It's part of his autism." Krabs nods slowly, his expression still tinged with uncertainty. "I see," he says. "But I still need to apologize." Karen sighs, looking from Plankton to Krabs. "Fine," she says. "But you need to understand that Plankton's been through a lot today. Cut him some slack." Krabs nods again, his eyes never leaving Plankton's. "I'm so sorry," he says, his voice quiet. "I had no idea that you were...going through this." Plankton's eye narrows, his grip on the fidget toy tightening. "What do you want, Krabs?" He asks, his voice low. "An award for finally noticing?" He snaps before turning his focus back to the fidget. Krabs steps closer, his movement slow and deliberate. "No, Plankton," he says, his voice earnest. "I want to make amends. To learn. To do better." But Plankton seems to ignore him. "Echo...echolal...lal...la," Plankton whispers, his gaze fixed on the fidget toy. The words come out in a soft, soothing rhythm, a secret language that only he understands. Krabs watches, his heart heavy. He's hurt Plankton before, but never has seen this. The room is silent, the only noise the faint click of the plastic pieces in Plankton's hand. Krabs takes a deep breath, trying to find the words to bridge the gap that's formed between them. "I didn't know," he says, his voice tentative. "I never knew you...you had autism." Plankton's antennae twitch, his eye snapping up to meet Krabs' but he looks back down at his fidget toy, the rhythm of his murmurs increasing. "Echo...echolal...lal...la." Krabs fidgets, unsure of what to say. He's never seen Plankton like this before—so lost in his own world, so vulnerable. It's a stark contrast to the usual bravado and sarcasm that Plankton wields like a shield. "What does it mean?" He asks, his voice tentative. Plankton doesn't answer, the clicking of his fidget toy the only sound in the room. Krabs watches, his heart heavy with regret. He's always seen Plankton as a nuisance, someone to be defeated and humiliated. But now, he's just a small, hurt creature trying to make sense of a world that doesn't always make sense to him. "Uh, what about your arm Plankton?" "Echo...echolal...lal...la," Plankton repeats, his eye fixed on the fidget toy. The words roll off his tongue yet Krabs doesn't understand. Krabs' confusion grows as Plankton's murmurs fill the silence. It's a strange, almost hypnotic sound, a secret conversation that excludes everyone else. "What are you saying, Plankton?" He asks, his voice soft, tentative. But Plankton doesn't look up, lost in his own world of repetition and comfort. The words echo in the silence, a testament to his internal turmoil. "Echo... echolal...lal...la," he whispers, the fidget toy still clicking away. It's a self-soothing mechanism, a way to calm the storm in his brain. Krabs watches, his own mind racing. He's seen Plankton's quirks before, but this is something different. He's seen the anger, the sarcasm, the endless schemes. But this...this is Plankton's true self, raw and exposed. It's a side of him that no one ever gets to see other than Karen. The words keep coming, a stream of nonsense that seems to calm Plankton's racing thoughts. "Echo...echolal... lal...la," he murmurs, the rhythm never changing. Mr. Krabs feels like an intruder, watching a private moment he wasn't meant to see. Karen sighs, her hand moving to rest on Plankton's shoulder. "It's okay, honey," she says. But Plankton's focus is elsewhere, his eye glazed over. Krabs watches, his heart aching for the enemy he's hurt so many times. He's never seen this side of Plankton—the vulnerable, scared side that's now laid bare before him. "I'm sorry," he says again, his voice trembling. "I didn't know." Plankton's murmurs continue, his fidget toy a blur of motion in his hand. "Echo...echolal... lal...la." The words come faster now, a staccato beat of his thoughts. It's as if he's talking in code, a language that only he can understand. Mr. Krabs feels like an outsider, a clumsy giant in a delicate world of patterns and repetition. Karen's hand on his shoulder doesn't move, a silent offer of comfort that Plankton doesn't seem to notice. "It's ok," she repeats, her voice calm and steady. "You're safe here." Plankton's murmurs become louder, the words tripping over each other. "Echo...echolal...lal... la...echolal...lal...la..." His grip on the fidget toy tightens, his body rocking slightly on his bed. Mr. Krabs' heart clenches at the sight, his mind racing with questions and concerns. He's never seen Plankton like this—so lost in his own thoughts, so detached from the world around him. It's as if his mind has retreated into itself, seeking refuge from the pain and confusion. The words are a lifeline, a way to find comfort in the chaos. Krabs watches, his own mind racing. What does it mean? What has he done to make Plankton feel this way? He knows he's hurt him before, but this is different. This is deeper, more profound. It's not just about stealing a secret formula or winning a contest. This is personal. He opens his mouth to speak, but the words catch in his throat. What can he say to make this right? He's never faced a challenge like this, one that can't be solved with money or brawn. This requires understanding, empathy, and a willingness to learn. Krabs' eyes fill with tears as he watches Plankton's silent conversation with his fidget toy. "I-I just didn't know," he stammers. "I'll...I'll do better. I promise." But Plankton is lost in his own world, the words coming faster and faster. "Echo... echolal...lal...la...echolal... lal...la..." His voice rises in pitch, a frantic symphony of his inner thoughts. Karen's hand tightens on his shoulder, but Plankton seems oblivious to her touch. Krabs feels a pang of sorrow, his heart aching for the tiny creature in front of him. He's hurt him, and he's not sure how to fix it. "Plankton," he tries again, his voice gentler this time. "I'm here." But Plankton's world is one of repeating patterns and sounds, a place where the pain of the outside world can't reach him. "Echo...echolal...lal...la," he murmurs, the words tumbling out in a rush. It's a self-soothing mantra, a way to regain control in a world that feels out of control. Krabs' claws clench and unclench at his sides, his heart racing. He wants to help, but doesn't know how. He's always been so focused on the material, on winning, on defeating Plankton that he's never stopped to consider what's going on beneath the surface. He's never seen Plankton like this—so lost, so desperate. Krabs decides to try and connect. He clears his throat. "Plankton, what are you saying?" His voice is gentle, tentative, a stark contrast to the usual bluster. Plankton's murmurs don't cease, the words tumbling out like a stream of consciousness that makes no sense to anyone but him. "Echo...echolal...lal... la...echo...echolal..." Karen's grip on his shoulder tightens slightly, but she doesn't interrupt. She knows this is his way of coping, his method of navigating the storm in his mind. But Krabs is an outsider to this world, a blunt instrument in a place that requires finesse. But Krabs still wants to ask. "What does it mean, Plankton?" He ventures, his voice soft. "What are you trying to tell me?" He pleads, wanting to be welcomed into the autistic life he doesn't understand. But Plankton's words are for himself, a cocoon of comfort in the face of his enemy's curiosity. "Echo...echolal... lal...la...palilal...lal...la..." The words tumble out in a pattern that makes sense only to his own brain, a dance of self-expression in the chaos.

𝖳𝖮 𝖢𝖧𝖠𝖭𝖦𝖤 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖶𝖮𝖱𝖫𝖣 pt. 16 Sequel to Autism And All by NeuroFabulous https://emojicombos.com/autism-and-all Read the Autism And All one first! Krabs watches, his claws opening and closing in frustration. He wants to help, but he doesn't know how to enter Plankton's inner sanctum. He feels like an intruder, a rudimentary creature in a realm of complex thought patterns. "Please, Plankton," he begs. "Tell me what you need." He leans closer to Plankton. Plankton's eye closed, his voice a soft whisper. "Echo...echolal... lal...la...palilal...lal...la..." The words roll off his tongue, a soothing incantation that seems to calm his racing thoughts. Krabs leans in closer, trying to make out the meaning in the nonsensical string of syllables. He's never heard Plankton talk like this before—his words a mesmerizing tapestry of echoes and repetitions. It's as if he's speaking in a secret code, one that only he can decode. The phrases come faster now, a stream of consciousness that's both fascinating and eerie. "Echo...echolal...lal...la... Palilal...lal...la...echolal..." Krabs watches, his own thoughts a jumble of confusion and regret. He's seen Plankton's quirks before, the repetitive movements and the occasional strange sounds, but he's never seen this intensity, this complete retreat into his own world. It's as if Plankton is trying to build a fortress around himself, one that keeps the pain of the outside world at bay. So, he tries to make his way in. "Palilal...lal...la...echolal..." The words keep coming, each one a puzzle piece that Krabs tries to fit into the larger picture. He looks to Karen, his eyes pleading for guidance. Karen's expression is a mix of concern and understanding. "It's ok, Plankton," she says, her voice calm. "You don't have to explain." But Krabs can't let it go. He needs to know, to understand what he's done to his enemy that has brought him to this state. "What are you sa-" But Plankton throws the fidget across the room, the plastic pieces clattering against the wall; yet his eye remains glazed. Karen steps forward, her hand lifting to cup his cheek. "It's ok, sweetie," she says, her voice calm. "You don't have to talk if you don't want." She knows his stims, his silent mantras, are his way of navigating a world that often feels too loud, too bright, too confusing. She's been his anchor for so long, his interpreter of a language that others don't always understand. Krabs' eyes widen at the sudden outburst, his heart pounding in his chest. He's accustomed to Plankton's usual theatrics, but this is different. This is raw, this is real. He can see the pain etched into every line of Plankton's face, every twitch of his antennae. "What should I do?" He whispers to Karen, his voice desperate. Karen's gaze doesn't leave Plankton's face. She knows that his stims are a way to find peace in the chaos, a language that only she can understand. "Just give him space," she says, her voice a soothing balm. "He'll come back to us when he's ready." With that, Karen goes to the bedside drawer where the box of sensory items is kept. It's a treasure trove of textures and sounds, a collection that Plankton has amassed over the years to help him navigate the often-overwhelming world. She opens it with care, her eyes scanning the various fidgets and toys, each one holding a special place in Plankton's heart. She puts the box on his bed like an offering. "Here, sweetie," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. "Use something if it helps." Mr. Krabs watches, his eyes widening at the array of items. He's never seen anything like it—so many strange, wonderful things that seem to make no sense. Yet, they are a comfort to Plankton, a way to make sense of the world. He can't help but be curious, his eyes darting from one item to the next. What could these simple objects mean to his enemy? He reaches out a tentative claw, picking up a soft, squeezable ball. It feels strange in his grip, unlike anything he's ever held. "What does this do?" He asks, his voice a mix of wonder and ignorance. Plankton doesn't respond, his eye widening at the sight of Krabs taking his precious items without asking. Karen intervenes, her hand covering Krabs' claw. "These are for Plankton," she says, firm but gentle. "They're his tools for coping. Please, let him choose." Krabs withdraws his claw, his curiosity piqued but respectful. He watches as Plankton's eye flits from one item to the next. "Echo...echolal...lal...la... Palilal...lal...la...echo..." Plankton's murmurs slow, his breathing evening out. He reaches for a plush octopus from the sensory box, its tentacles a jumble of textures. He squeezes it tightly, the softness grounding him. "What...what is that?" Krabs asks, nodding towards the octopus. Karen smiles, a hint of pride in her voice. "It's a comfort object," she explains. "It has different textures to soothe his senses when things get too much." She watches as Plankton's fingers trace over the fabric, each a lifeline back to reality. "Everyone on the spectrum has their own way of dealing with overwhelm." Krabs holds his hand out to Plankton, palm up. "May I?" He asks, his voice hopeful. Plankton's murmurs fade, his breathing steady. He looks up, his eye meeting Krabs' with a hint of wariness before going back to his octopus without an answer. Krabs' heart skips a beat, his claws hovering over the box. He's desperate to connect, to show Plankton that he cares. He picks up a smooth, polished stone, rolling it between his fingers. "What's this one fo—" But Plankton's antennae snap up, his gaze sharp and fierce. "MINE!" He snatches the stone from Krabs' grasp, his voice a whipcrack of protectiveness. The room holds its breath, the tension palpable as Krabs' hand retreats, his eyes wide. Karen sighs, stepping between them. "Krabs," she says, her voice firm but kind. "These items are personal to Plankton. They help him regulate his senses. Please respect his space and his things." Krabs nods, his eyes never leaving the plush octopus Plankton clutches tightly. "I'm just trying to understand," he says, his voice thick with emotion. Plankton's grip on the octopus doesn't loosen, but his murmurs have ceased. The room is silent except for the sound of his shallow breathing. Krabs swallows hard, trying to find the right words. "What can I do?" He asks, his voice cracking. "How can I help?" Karen looks at him, her screen filled with a mix of pity and frustration. "Just be there," she says, her voice firm. "Don't try to fix him. Just be present. That's what he needs." Krabs nods, his eyes still on Plankton. He doesn't know what that means, but he's willing to try. He sits down on the bed, his movements careful not to startle him. Plankton's grip on the octopus doesn't waver, but his eye flickers towards Krabs. It's a tiny gesture, but it's enough to give him hope.

DO YOU TRUST ME pt. 20 𝖠𝗎𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗋'𝗌 𝖣𝗂𝗌𝖼𝗅𝖺𝗂𝗆𝖾𝗋 𝖭𝗈𝗍𝖾 𝘐 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘵. 𝘐'𝘮 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘚𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘮 𝘮𝘺𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧. 𝘐 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘤 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘭𝘶𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘐'𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘥𝘥 𝘮𝘺 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴. 𝘚𝘰 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦, 𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘴𝘮 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘴 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺. 𝘞𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘩, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘷𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴. 𝘐 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘪𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘨𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶. ( emojicombos.com/neurofabulous ) Karen's arms wrap around him, her hands gentle on his back as she whispers words of comfort, her voice a balm to his frayed nerves. "You're safe, baby," she says. "You're safe with me." Plankton's sobs slow, his body relaxing marginally in her embrace. His antennae still thrash, but with less urgency, when Plankton's main dentist comes in. Dr. Musselman, Plankton's main dentist, rushes into the room, his eyes wide with concern at the sight of his patient's distress. Karen quickly explains the situation, her voice tight with emotion. "He's having an autistic shutdown," she says, her hand on Plankton's trembling back. "He's sensitive to sensory overload." He nods. "You can come into my exam room, follow me." The doctor's exam room is dimmer, the air cooler, and the smell less intense. The change in atmosphere is like a gentle caress against Plankton's overstimulated sensors. He lets out a shaky sigh, his antennae unfurling slightly. Dr. Musselman's eyes are kind, his voice a soothing balm. "Hi, Plankton," he says, his tone gentle. "Remember me?" Plankton's gaze flickers to him, his antennae stilling. "You're my other dentist," he whispers, his voice hoarse from the sobbing. The doctor nods, his smile reassuring. "That's right. I know you don't like surprises, so I'm sorry for that, for Jill. But we're going to take it slow, okay?" Plankton nods, his antennae twitching slightly. "We need to finish your cleaning," Karen says, her voice gentle. "But we'll do it with Dr. Musselman. He'll always work here, and can be your dentist instead of Jill from now on!" "Okay," Dr. Musselman says, his voice calm and measured. "We're going to take some x-rays now. It's quick and painless." Plankton's antennae perk up slightly at the mention of painlessness. He nods, his eye searching the doctor's face for any sign of deception. The doctor leads them to a small, enclosed space, the whirring of the x-ray machine a soothing constant. Karen holds Plankton's hand, her grip firm but gentle, as he sits in the chair. The doctor explains the process, his words clear and concise. Plankton nods, his breathing slowing slightly as he tries to comfort himself. The x-ray machine's cold metal touches his jaw, and he jolts. "It's okay," Karen whispers, her hand on his shoulder. "It's just a little picture of your teeth." Plankton's eye closes, his antennae stilling. He nods, his trust in his wife a beacon in the storm of his fear. Dr. Musselman's movements are careful, his voice calm. "Open wide," he says. Plankton's mouth opens slightly, his teeth clenched. The x-ray film slides into place, cold and slightly sticky. He tastes the metal, feels the pressure. But it's not the same as the probe. It's bearable. The machine whirs to life, the sensation of the x-rays a gentle buzz against his skin. His antennae quiver, but he doesn't pull away. Karen's hand squeezes his, a silent promise of support. "Good job," she murmurs, her voice a warm whisper in the cool air. The doctor's voice is steady. "Almost done," he says, his eyes on the machine's readout. Plankton nods, his breaths shallow but even. The fear has receded to a dull throb, a distant echo of the panic that had consumed him. The x-ray machine clicks off, the buzz of its operation silenced. Dr. Musselman gently removes the film, his movements careful not to startle Plankton. "Good boy," he says, his voice a warm caress. Plankton's antennae twitch in response, a tentative sign of trust.

DO YOU TRUST ME pt. 17 𝖠𝗎𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗋'𝗌 𝖣𝗂𝗌𝖼𝗅𝖺𝗂𝗆𝖾𝗋 𝖭𝗈𝗍𝖾 𝘐 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘵. 𝘐'𝘮 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘚𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘮 𝘮𝘺𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧. 𝘐 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘤 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘭𝘶𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘐'𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘥𝘥 𝘮𝘺 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴. 𝘚𝘰 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦, 𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘴𝘮 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘴 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺. 𝘞𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘩, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘷𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴. 𝘐 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘪𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘨𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶. ( emojicombos.com/neurofabulous ) The next morning, Karen gets a text from Plankton's dental office for a check up and routine cleaning. So Karen decided to go down stairs to awaken him, and Chip, so they can go. She finds them both asleep by each other still on the couch. Gently, she shakes Plankton's shoulder. "Honey," she says, her voice a soft caress. "You've got a dentist appointment." Plankton's eye snaps open, his antennae twitching. Chip opens his eyes. Plankton sits up with a start, his body stiff from the night on the couch. He looks at Karen, his expression a mix of confusion and dread. "Dentist?" he repeats, his voice cracking. Karen nods, her eyes filled with concern. "It's okay," she says, her voice soothing. "We'll go together, all of us." Karen's eyes are filled with understanding as she helps Plankton to his feet. Chip rises from his spot, his expression a mix of worry and determination. The drive to the dentist's office is quiet, the tension palpable. Once they arrive, they go up to the receptionist desk. The receptionist, a cheery octopus, greets them with a smile. "Good morning, Mr. Plankton," she says. "You're here for your 9 AM appointment, aren't you?" Plankton nods. "Yes," Karen says. "He's with hygienist named Zoe.." But then the receptionist interrupts her. "Oh, Zoe doesn't work here anymore. She's been replaced by a new hygienist, named Jill." Plankton's antennae droop, his face paling. Change was never his friend, especially when it came to routine. "But I've always had her," he whispers, his voice tight with anxiety. Karen's hand squeezes his shoulder, her eyes filled with understanding. "It'll be okay," she murmurs. "We'll make it work. We can tell her about your autistic needs." The waiting room is a cacophony of sounds, the buzz of the fluorescent lights, the hum of the air conditioner, the distant drill, and the muffled chatter of other patients. Plankton starts rocking back and forth. Karen notices the signs of his anxiety building, his antennae twitching with every new sound. She leans over, whispering. "We'll tell them what you need." Chip looks at his dad's stimming. "Why's he rocking?" Chip asks Karen. She whispers back, "It's a way he self-soothes, a common autistic trait. It's his way to deal with restlessness." The new hygienist, Jill, enters the waiting room. "Plankton?" Plankton's antennae shoot up, his body tense. "Yes," Karen says, smiling warmly. "This is my husband, Plankton, and our son, Chip." She nods towards Chip. They stand up and follow Jill. Jill's office is a minefield of sensory stimuli. The bright lights, the smell of antiseptic, and the shiny metal instruments glinting on the tray. Plankton's body tightens with each step closer to the chair. Karen notices, and whispers, "Remember what we talked about, Plankton. You can handle this." He nods, his antennae flicking nervously.

"We removed Plankton's wisdom teeth. He's still asleep, you can stay with him." Said the oral surgeon to Karen. They've just finished and lead Karen into the room. Plankton is lying in the hospital bed, his face a mask of peace, the only signs of the recent surgery being the gauze in his mouth and the drool seeping out the side. His cheeks are slightly swollen, and she wonders when he'll wake up. The doctor said it could take a while. The IV line snakes up his arm. Karen pulls a chair up beside the bed. She takes his hand and holds it gently, feeling the warmth of his skin contrast with the coolness of her own palm. The room is sterile, the air conditioning humming steadily in the background. The faint smell of disinfectant fills the space. She looks around the room, noticing the monitors beeping in rhythm with Plankton's breathing and heart rate. The nurse comes in and checks the machines, making a few quiet notes on a clipboard. She smiles at Karen, "He's doing well. Just let him sleep. It's the best thing right now." Karen nods, squeezing Plankton's hand slightly, willing him to feel her presence. She wonders what dreams he's having, if any, behind his closed lid. Time seems to crawl as Karen watches him sleep. She tries to read a book, but the words blur together. Her thoughts drift to their lives before this moment, their shared laughter, their arguments, the quiet moments of understanding. Her gaze lingers on his swollen cheeks, his chest rising and falling with each breath. A soft groan escapes his lips and his eye begins to flutter open. Slowly, Plankton comes to, his vision blurred by the anesthesia's last hangover. He blinks, trying to focus on Karen's face. She sets aside her book and smiles at him, her screen welcoming him back to the world of the conscious. "Hi," she says softly. "How are you feeling?" Plankton makes a sound that's somewhere between a whine and a grunt. His eye wanders the room before finally settling on hers. "What...what happened?" he slurs, the words barely audible through the gauze. Karen's smile widens a bit. "You had your wisdom teeth removed, remember?" He nods slightly. The nurse reappears, checking his vitals again with a gentle touch. "Time to go home," she says, removing the gauze. They make their way out of the hospital, Karen supporting Plankton gently as he stumbles, his legs still wobbly from the anesthesia. The sun is setting, casting long shadows across the parking lot. Karen helps Plankton into the car, buckling him in and adjusting the seat so he can lean back and rest. He nods off almost immediately, his breathing evening out as the car starts and they pull away from the hospital. The drive home is quiet, Plankton's snores punctuating the hum of the engine. Karen keeps glancing over, checking on him, her concern etched into every line on her screen. The pain medication is strong, keeping him in a half-awake state. Each time he wakes, he looks around, disoriented, before his eye finds hers and his expression relaxes. Once they arrive, Karen guides him to the couch, his body feeling heavier than ever before. He slumps into the cushions and she grabs the ice pack from the cooler. "Hold this to your cheeks," she instructs, placing the cold compress against his skin. He nods obediently, his eye already glazing over with the promise of sleep. The TV flickers on, its blue light washing over the room. Karen finds a sitcom they both enjoy, hoping the familiar laughter will ease his pain and keep them both company. But Plankton's snores soon overpower the TV's audio, his head lolling to the side. She smiles, knowing he's in a deep slumber, and covers him with a blanket. The house is eerily quiet except for the steady tick of the clock on the wall. Karen moves around the kitchen, preparing a soft meal for when he wakes, her mind racing with thoughts of what the next few days will be like. Plankton's recovery will be slow, but she's ready to take care of him. She's his rock, his support, and she'll do anything to help him feel better.

𝖳𝖮 𝖢𝖧𝖠𝖭𝖦𝖤 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖶𝖮𝖱𝖫𝖣 pt. 1 Sequel to Autism And All by NeuroFabulous https://emojicombos.com/autism-and-all Read the Autism And All one first! In the aftermath of Plankton's science fair episode, Chip didn't want his dad to go through that again, so he decided it was time for a change. He approached his mom with the idea of switching schools. Karen listened, her eyes filled with empathy, and nodded. "You know, sweetie, sometimes change can be good. We'll look into it." The next day, Chip accompanied his parents to Hanna's house. Hanna, with her infectious energy, was eager to help. Chip couldn't help but overhear their conversation. "So, Karen, what's really going on with Plankton?" Karen took a deep breath and began to explain. "Well, Hanna, Plankton's autistic. It's like his brain works differently. He has these things called 'stims' that help him focus and stay calm, especially when he's overwhelmed." Hanna's eyes widened with understanding. "Oh, like when he was sick aft-" Karen gently cut her off. "Yes, it was related. It's all a part of his condition. But it's more than just that. His mind works in ways that we can't always understand. Sometimes it's like he's in his own little world, but it's a brilliant one." Plankton was swinging his legs as he sat by Karen, feeling awkward. He knew his brain was different, but he didn't like it being talked about outside of Karen. Hanna leaned in, curiosity piqued. "What do you mean, 'brilliant'?" "Well, you know how he can recall every single detail of his Krabby Patty recipe?" Karen said with a smile. "Or how he can fix anything in the restaurant with just a quick look? That's his autism at work. It's like he has these special powers, but sometimes it can be too much for him to handle." Chip watched Hanna nod, absorbing the information. He felt a mix of pride and protectiveness for his dad. "But what about the bad parts?" Hanna asked, her voice softening. "How do you deal with the... the tantrum..." The moment the word slipped out, Plankton's legs stopped swinging. His eye darted to Hanna, a flicker of anger crossing his face. Karen knew that look. Plankton didn't like the term "tantrum." It was a sore spot, something that made him feel less than. With a sigh, she turned to Hanna, placing a gentle hand on her friend's arm. "Let's call it a 'meltdown', okay?" "M-Meltdown?" Hanna stuttered, her cheery demeanor dimming. "It's a tantrum, right?" Plankton's eye narrowed, and his grip on his chair tightened. "It's not a tantrum, Hanna," Plankton spoke through gritted teeth, his voice low and firm. "It's a meltdown. There's a difference, you know‽" Hanna looked surprised, then embarrassed. "I'm sorry, Plankton. I didn't mean to-" But Plankton was beyond apologies. He shot up from his chair, his tiny fists balled at his sides. "You think I throw tantrums? That I'm a child who can't control himself?" The room grew tense as his voice escalated, his body trembling with frustration. "I'm not like that. I'm not a toddler!" Hanna took a step back, her hands up in a gesture of peace. "Plankton, I didn't mean-" But he was beyond words, his autistic brain flooded with sensory overload from the misunderstanding. Karen could see the panic in his eye, his body poised for fight or flight. Her heart ached for him, for the way the world often didn't understand. Chip stepped in, trying to diffuse the situation. "Dad, it's okay. Ms. Hanna just didn't know the right word." Karen moved swiftly to Plankton's side, her voice calm and soothing. "Honey, I know you're upset. Let's go to a quiet spot." She guided him to the corner of Hanna's kitchen. Hanna, eyes wide, looked at Karen for guidance. "I didn't mean to-" she started, but Karen held up a hand, cutting her off gently. "It's okay, Hanna. It's just a misunderstanding." In the quiet corner, Karen knelt beside him. "You're right, Plankton. It's not fair. But remember, she didn't know." Plankton's eye darted back to Hanna, who was now silent, watching them with a mixture of shock and guilt. Chip stood there, torn between his dad's fury and Hanna's ignorance. Hanna's cheery persona was gone, replaced by a look of genuine concern. She approached them cautiously. "I'm really sorry, Plankton. I didn't mean to upset you." Her eyes searched his for forgiveness. Plankton's chest heaved with anger, but he felt a twinge of compassion for her ignorance. He knew she didn't understand, but it didn't change the hurt she had caused. Karen's hand was warm and steadying on his shoulder. "Let's talk about this," she said softly. "You know Hanna didn't mean it that way." Plankton's breath was ragged as he tried to compose himself. He knew Karen was right, but the word had stung, bringing back memories of past judgments and misunderstandings. "I know," he managed to murmur, his voice strained. Hanna took another tentative step forward. "I'm here to learn, Plankton," she said with sincerity. "Tell me what I should kno—" But Plankton was already retreating into his own world, his eye glazed over as he tried to process the conversation. Karen stood up, her eyes never leaving his. "Why don't we give him a moment, Hanna?" She sat beside Plankton, who was now rocking back and forth. Hanna nodded, looking at them with a mix of confusion and remorse. "I didn't know," she whispered. "I just didn't know." In the quiet corner, Karen wrapped her arm around Plankton, holding him close. "It's ok," she repeated. "You're right, honey. It's not the same." Hanna leads them all to the couches in her living room. Plankton eased himself on a sofa opposite Hanna. He rocks back and forth in stimming. "Tantrum, tantrum, not a tantrum. Meltdown. Meltdown," he murmurs to himself. Plankton's voice grew softer. "Tantrum, no. Meltdown. Meltdown," he murmured, his eye unfocused. The stimming was a familiar sight by now, a comforting self-soothing technique that his brain needed in moments of stress. Hanna sat down beside him, mimicking the rocking motion in what she thought of was a silent offer of support. Plankton's gaze snapped to Hanna, his expression sharp. "What are you doing?" he demanded. The suddenness of his voice startled Hanna. "Just trying to help," she stuttered, unsure of herself. "Don't," he said firmly, his face flushing. "Don't mimic me." Karen stepped in, placing a hand on Hanna's shoulder. "It's ok," she assured her. "It can be uncomfortable when people do that. It's best to let him do his thing." Hanna nodded, her screen full of regret. "I'm sorry," she managed, looking at Plankton. But Plankton was already lost in a loop of words, echoing his own thoughts. "This isn't right, not right, not right," he whispered to himself. Hanna looks up, confused. "What isn't right, Plank-" "Don't talk to me," Plankton interrupted, his voice sharp. Karen took a seat next to Hanna, her hand resting gently on her knee. "Hanna, you see, stims are like Plankton's personal language. They're private, like someone's thoughts. It's how he speaks to his brain, how he tells it 'I'm safe, I'm okay'. It's not for us to join unless he asks us to." Hanna nodded slowly. "So, when I tried to... help him by doing what he does, it was like I was..." "Intruding. It's like if someone tried to finish your sentences or read your thoughts," Karen elaborated, her gaze softening as she watched Plankton. "It's his way of saying, 'This is how I process the world, and I need this space to do so.'" Hanna nodded, her screen reflecting the newfound knowledge. "I never thought of it that way," she murmured. "I just wanted to help." "I know you did," Karen smiled gently, patting her hand. "But sometimes, the best way to help is to give space. For him, stims are just as personal as a diary entry. They're his way of communicating to himself." Plankton's rocking grew softer, less frantic. Karen knew the signs of his brain starting to settle down. He was beginning to come back to them, but she didn't want to push it.

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

Date: 8 Sep 1996 04:50:36 GMT ======== Bathroom stuff Two tooth brushes ___ ___ /\ ..\_ _/ /\ \/\ _) (_'' /\/ \/\ o\ / . /\/ \/\_ ) ( _/\/ Faucet \/_)( )(_\/ ____ (__\______________/__) |___|\ |\ \ / /| | \ Tube of | \ \ / / | | \ toothpaste | \ \ / / | | \ ___ | \ \ / / | ____ | \ ____ / _ \ ______ | \ \ / / | /|_||\|________\/|_||\___ / // // \ \ | \ \ / / | _________________________\-\ \_// \/-__ -\__ \__)(__/ __/------ \_________ / |||| [][][][][][][][][] """""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""" unknown

CHIP ON THE SHOULDERS xii (By NeuroFabulous) Plankton's antennae twitched, his eye opening slightly to see the familiar sight of their front door. The house looked warm and welcoming, a haven from the overstimulation of the outside world. He nodded, his antennae drooping. "Home," he murmured, his voice still slurred. Karen helped him out of the car, his legs wobbly under the weight of his still-sluggish body. The fresh air was a shock to his sensitive system, his antennae quivering at the sudden change. "Come on," she urged gently, her arm around his waist. "Let's get you inside." Plankton leaned heavily on Karen as they made their way up the path to the house. The brightness of the sun was almost painful, his eye squinting against the light. "I'm shorry," he mumbled, his voice barely audible. "Soo tired..." Karen chuckled softly, her arm tightening around him. "It's okay, Plankton," she said, her voice a gentle breeze. "You can sleep as soon as we..." But her words were lost as his antennae drooped, his body giving in to the siren call of sleep. His eyelid fluttered closed, his head lolling forward. "Plankton," she whispered, her voice a gentle nudge. But his body was heavy, his antennae still. With a sigh, Karen picked him up, cradling him against her chest. His antennae twitched slightly at the sudden motion, his eye opening to slits. "Wha..." he mumbled, his voice barely audible. "You're okay, Plankton," she soothed, her voice a gentle whisper. "We're going inside." Her arms were strong, her movements slow and steady, carrying his weight with ease. The world outside faded away, replaced by the warmth and comfort of their home. Inside, Sandy and Chip played chess, the only other sounds the soft footsteps of Karen's feet and Plankton's muffled snores. Sandy looked up as Karen carried in the sleeping Plankton, his antennae drooping like wilted flowers. "How's he doing?" she asked, her voice low. Karen nodded. "The surgery went well," she murmured. "But he's still out of it." Chip looked up from his chess board, his eyes wide as his mom carried his dad. Sandy quickly set aside the chess pieces and rushed to help. Karen set him on the couch, his antennae brushing the fabric as he was laid down. "Just rest here for a moment," she murmured, her hand smoothing his antennae. Chip watched, his curiosity piqued by his dad's vulnerable state. "Is he okay?" he whispered, his eyes searching Karen's face for answers. "He's fine," she assured him, her voice soft. "He's just really tired from the surgery. The anesthesia makes it hard for his brain to stay awake." Chip nodded, watching as Karen tucked a blanket around Plankton's form, her movements gentle and careful. "Why does Dad snore?" he asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. "It's just his body's way of getting the air it needs," Karen explained, her voice a soft mumble. The living room was bathed in dim light, the curtains drawn to keep the world at bay. Plankton's snores grew louder, his antennae twitching with each inhale. Sandy's filled with concern. "Do you want me to stay?" she asked, her voice hushed. "Help with Chip?" Karen's smile was filled with gratitude. "That would be amazing," she murmured. "I need to keep an eye on Plankton." She gestured to the sleeping form on the couch. Sandy nodded, her eyes filled with understanding. "Of course," she said. "I'll watch Chip." Her voice was a gentle whisper, not wanting to disturb the fragile peace that had descended upon the house. With Plankton safely on the couch, Karen turned to face Sandy. "Thank you," she murmured, her voice carrying the weight of the day's events. "I don't know what I'd do without you." Sandy waved a dismissive hand. "It's what friends are for," she said, her smile soft. "Now, go take care of Plankton. I've got this." Karen nodded, her eyes filled with gratitude. She knew she could trust Sandy with Chip, especially in a time like this. She bent over Plankton, her hand brushing his antennae gently. "Rest," she whispered, her voice a soothing caress. "You're safe." Plankton's antennae twitched slightly, his sleep-laden eye sliding open. The room spun around him, the edges soft and fuzzy. "Karen?" he mumbled, his voice thick with slumber. Karen's face appeared above him, a soft smile playing on her lips. "You're okay, Plankton," she whispered, her hand stroking his antennae gently. "You're safe." The words washed over him like a gentle wave, the warmth of her voice seeping into his bones. His antennae quivered slightly, his eyelid flickering. The room spun, his body heavy and sluggish. "Home," he murmured, his voice a sleepy echo of his earlier sentiment. Karen's smile grew, her eyes soft with affection. "Yes, we're home," she said, her voice a lullaby. "You can rest now." Plankton let out a contented sigh, his antennas drooping with exhaustion. The gentle stroking of Karen's hand on his antennae was the last thing he felt before his mind slipped fully into the abyss of sleep. His snores grew deep and even, his body finally at peace.

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

AUTISM IN THE PLANKTON FAMILY ix (Autistic author) Mr. Krabs knew that his rivalry with Plankton had always been about more than just the Krabby Patty. It was about pride, about being the best, about proving his worth. But as he looked at Plankton, his tiny form swallowed by the large couch cushions, he realized that none of it mattered compared to the pain he had caused. The next day, Plankton found himself sitting in the waiting room of a dentist's office, to get an X-Ray. Karen sat by him. "You ok?" she asked, her voice gentle. Plankton nodded, his antennas twitching nervously. The door to the exam room opened, and a cheerful dolphin dental hygienist waved them in. "Good morning, Plankton!" she chirped. "Ready for your X-ray?" Plankton's antennae shot up instinctively at the sudden noise, his body stiffening. Karen squeezed his hand gently, offering reassurance. "It's okay," she murmured. "We're here." The dolphin's smile was bright, but it was the softness in her eyes that helped Plankton relax slightly. They had been informed of his condition, and she approached with a gentle caution. "We'll take it slow," she said, her voice a gentle melody. "We're just getting an x-ray okay?" Plankton nodded, his antennae still quivering slightly. The dolphin hygienist, named Delfina, guided him into the exam room. The room was a symphony of white, a stark contrast to the cozy confines of the Chum Bucket. Plankton felt his heart racing in his chest, his antennae twitching as he took in the unfamiliar surroundings. Delfina the hygienist guided Plankton gently to the chair, her eyes filled with understanding. "Just sit back and relax," she said, her voice a gentle wave washing over him. Plankton did his best to remain calm. The hum of the machinery was a constant reminder of his sensory overload, but he focused on Karen's soothing presence beside him, her hand resting on his shoulder. Delfina moved with grace and precision, her movements fluid and unthreatening. She explained each step of the process to him, her voice a soft lullaby that helped to soothe his nervous system. "Open wide," she cooed, her eyes gentle as she placed the X-ray sensor in his mouth. Plankton's antennae trembled slightly, but he did as she instructed, his teeth clamping down on the cold, plastic device. The whir of the X-ray machine was like a tornado in his ears, but he focused on Karen's calming presence beside him. Her hand remained on his shoulder, a grounding force amidst the chaos of sensations. As the X-ray was completed Plankton took a deep breath, his antennae slowly unfurling. The doctor, a wise old sea turtle named Dr. Dolittle, entered the room, his eyes behind thick glasses scanning the X-ray results. Plankton tried to read his expression, his antennae quivering with anticipation. Dr. Dolittle's face remained neutral as he studied the images, but Plankton couldn't help the anxiety that bubbled up within him. "Well, Plankton," the doctor said, his voice deep and soothing. "It appears that you need to have your wisdom teeth out. They'll potentially cause issues.." Plankton's antennae shot up in panic, his grip on the chair tightening. The thought of surgery was overwhelming, a tsunami of fear crashing into the shores of his already-fragile nervous system. He froze, his body a statue of terror. The room around him was a blur of colors and shapes, the sounds of the dental office a cacophony. Karen's hand squeezed his shoulder, a silent reminder that he wasn't alone. Sponge Bob sat in the corner, his eyes wide with concern. He had accompanied Plankton for moral support, but the sight of his friend's distress was painful to watch. "It'll be okay," he murmured, his voice a soft whisper in the tense silence. But Plankton couldn't hear him. The words were lost in the symphony of his own fear. His antennae twitched rapidly, his breath shallow. Karen turned to Sponge Bob, her expression soft. "It's okay," she assured him, her voice low and calming. "He's just processing the words sinking in." Sponge Bob nodded, his eyes never leaving Plankton's distressed form. "I'm here, buddy," he offered, his voice a gentle wave in the storm of emotions. But it was Karen's voice that cut through the chaos, her words a lighthouse in the fog. "Plankton," she said, her tone firm but soothing, "you just breathe. We'll make sure of everything." Plankton nodded, his antennae still quivering, closing his eye as he took a shaky breath. Dr. Dolittle noticed Plankton's distress and offered a gentle smile. "Don't worry, Plankton. We'll make sure you're nice and sleepy before we do anything. It's a simple extraction, and you won't feel a thing." The room grew quiet as the doctor's words sank in. Plankton was terrified of the unknown, his mind racing with images of sharp tools and pain. His antennae twitched uncontrollably, and his body began to tremble. Karen leaned in, her voice calm and reassuring. "It's like going to sleep," she said, her eyes locked with his. "You won't feel anything, I promise." Plankton's antennae quivered slightly as he processed her words. "We're going to give you a little something to help you sleep," Delfina explained, her voice a gentle hum. "It'll be like a nap, and when you wake up, it'll all be over." Plankton's antennae stilled slightly, his breathing slowing as he nodded. The room was a whirlwind of activity as Delfina and Dr. Dolittle prepared for the procedure. Sponge Bob's hands were clenched into fists of worry, his eyes never leaving Plankton's. Karen noticed his distress and squeezed his shoulder. "It'll be okay," she whispered. "Remember, we're here for support." The scent of antiseptic filled the room, making Plankton's eyes water, but he nodded, his trust in his friends overriding his fear. Delfina approached with a clear liquid. "Drink this," she instructed, her voice a gentle whisper. "It'll help you relax." Plankton's antennae quivered but he did as she said, the liquid sliding down his throat with an eerie calmness. As the anesthetic took hold, his thoughts grew fuzzy, like the edges of a distant memory. He felt his body begin to relax, the tension in his muscles dissipating like a wave retreating from the shore. The world grew dark around him, the sounds of the dental office becoming muffled whispers. The weight of his fear lifted slightly as the gentle embrace of oblivion beckoned. They administered the i.v., the cold sting of the needle quickly forgotten as the warmth of the sedative spread through his tiny body. Plankton felt his muscles go slack, his antennae falling limply to his side. The room grew hazier, the colors and shapes melting like crayons on wet paper. He felt his consciousness slipping away, the fear retreating with it. Karen's hand remained on his shoulder, a beacon of warmth and comfort in the cold, sterile environment. As Plankton succumbed to the pull of sleep, he heard the muted voices of Karen and Sponge Bob, their words a gentle lullaby. Their presence was a warm blanket wrapped around him, shielding him from the cold, metal world of the dental chair. Sponge Bob watched as Plankton's tiny form grew still, his antennae finally at peace. He looked up at Karen, her eyes filled with a mix of relief and anxiety. "He's okay," she whispered, her voice a soothing wave. The room grew quieter as Plankton fell into a deep slumber, his antennae finally still, as he's completely asleep before they began the extraction. Delfina checked his vital signs, her flippers moving with the precision of a ballet dancer. "He's out," she murmured to Dr. Dolittle, who nodded in satisfaction.

＃ＫｎｅｅＳｕｒｇｅｒｙ pt. 9 Plankton's eyelid grows heavier, and Patrick lets out a chuckle. Plankton's antennae twitch in surprise. He opens his eye halfway. "What?" he asks, his voice slurred. "You're falling asleep," Patrick says, his laughter bubbling. Sponge Bob watches his friend's struggle with a mix of concern and understanding. He knows Plankton's pride won't let him admit defeat so easily. So his eyes narrow slightly as a warning to Patrick. "I'm not sleepy," Plankton insists, his voice barely above a whisper. But his protests are met with Patrick's laugh. "I said, I'm not sleepy," Plankton insists, his eyelid drooping. "rIgHt," Patrick says, condescending. Plankton's antennae twitch in irritation. "I'm not sleepy," he says, his voice slurred. But his eyelid continues to drop, and Patrick notices. "You totally are," Patrick giggles. Plankton's antennae drop, still trying to battle with sleep. "Maybe you should just admit it, Plankie.." "Patrick," Sponge Bob warns, his tone a mix of concern and amusement. But Patrick's laughter fills the room, echoing off the walls. "Look, Plankton's going nighty-night," Patrick coos. Plankton grits his teeth, his eyelid flickering. "I'm not," he slurs, his voice barely audible. Sponge Bob tries to hold in a chuckle, his spongy cheeks twitching. Patrick leans in closer, his grin spreading wide. "You know, for a big, strong guy like you, you sure are tired," he says, his voice teasing. Plankton's antennae wobble in annoyance. "I'm not a baby, Patrick," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. But his protest is weak, his eyelid already half-closed. Sponge Bob bites his tongue, his own amusement bubbling up despite the situation. None of them know Karen's secretly filming this, turning video on. Patrick starts to mimic a lullaby, his deep, booming voice filling the room. "Hush little Plankton, don't say a word, mama's going to buy you all the candy in the sea..." Patrick's in his element, his imagination running wild and continues his nursery rhyme, his voice now a whisper. "And if that candy's not enough, then mama's going to buy you a new submarine..." "I said, I'm not a baby," he says, his voice gruff. But his stubbornness is no match for the medication, and his eyelid droops again. Sponge Bob watches, his own smile suppressed as he tries to keep the peace. Patrick's lullaby continues. "And if that new submarine doesn't make you fly, mama's going to catch you a jellyfish from the sky..." Plankton's antennae twitch. Sponge Bob's eyes widen slightly at the absurdity of it all, but he can't help but be touched by Patrick's efforts, however misguided. Patrick's lullaby continues, his voice now a gentle whisper. "And if that jellyfish's sting isn't right, mama's going to kiss it all better, goodnight..." Sponge Bob's smile spreads despite himself. He can see the caring intention behind Patrick's annoying persistence. Plankton's eye remains half-open, his antennae drooping. "I-I'm n-not sleepy," he mumbles, his words slurring together. Patrick's grin doesn't fade. "Hush, hush," he sings. "Don't you cry. Mama's gonna sing you to sleep, and when you wake up, you'll have jellyfish pie. And if that pie isn't sweet enough, mama's going to catch you a star..." Sponge Bob's cheeks are now shaking with suppressed laughter. Patrick's voice has turned into a soft, lilting melody. "And if that star doesn't shine, mama's going to build you a sandcastle so fine..." Plankton's eye closes completely despite his protests. Sponge Bob quickly claps his hands over his mouth to stifle a snicker. Patrick, oblivious to the effect his song is having, continues to serenade his sleepy friend. "And if that sand doesn't sparkle, mama's going to make it rain jelly..." Sponge Bob's shoulders shake with silent mirth. Plankton's breathing evened out, his antennae still, finally succumbing to sleep. "And if that rain isn't wet, mama's going to make you a sea...of...puddles... an—" Patrick's voice trails off as he looks down. "Plankton?" he whispers, noticing Plankton's chest rising and falling evenly. Plankton's snores answer for him, a soft sound that fills the room. Sponge Bob's laughter bubbles over, his eyes watering. "Looks like he's out," he says, his voice still low so as not to disturb him. Patrick blinks in confusion, his smile fading. "But I wasn't done singing!" he protests, as Karen ends the video. Sponge Bob looks up at her, his smile now a chuckle. "Maybe you should save that for later," he suggests. Karen nods, her eyes sparkling with mirth. "Or never," she says, her voice a whisper. Patrick pouts, his eyes on Plankton's sleeping form. "But I wanted to make him feel better," he says, his voice sulky. Sponge Bob nods. "Of course, Patrick," he says, his voice gentle. "He's asleep now, and that's the best thing for him." Patrick's eyes widen with curiosity. "But why does he snore like that?" he whispers. Sponge Bob looks at Plankton, his mind racing. "Well, everyone sleeps differently," he says, his voice hushed. "It's just how his body breathes when he's asleep." Patrick nods, his finger hovering near Plankton's cast. "Can I touch the cast?" he asks, his voice filled with wonder. Sponge Bob's eyes dart to Karen, who nods slightly. "Just be gentle," she warns. Patrick's finger taps the plaster lightly, his curiosity piqued. "It's so hard," he says, his voice filled with amazement. Plankton's antennae twitch in his sleep, and Sponge Bob quickly intervenes, placing a hand over Patrick's. "Let's not disturb him," he whispers. Patrick nods, his eyes still wide with interest. "What's it made of?" he asks. Sponge Bob thinks for a moment. "It's like...a super strong paste," he explains. "They use it to keep his leg still while it heals." Patrick nods. Patrick's finger hovers over Plankton's cast. "But why does it make him snore?" he whispers. Sponge Bob chuckles, his spongy body shaking slightly. "Well, it's not the cast," he says, his voice a soft whisper. "It's just how Plankton snores when he breathes in his sleep," he explains. "So it's not because of his leg?" he asks, his curiosity peaking. Sponge Bob shakes his head. "Nope, it's just the way he sleeps." Patrick looks thoughtful for a moment, his curiosity not sated. "But how?" he presses. Sponge Bob leans in, his voice low. "Well, when we sleep, our bodies relax, right?" Patrick nods, his attention fully on his friend's words. "But does he snore like that when he's not hurt?" Sponge Bob shrugs. "It's just his way of breathing when he's sleeping deeply," he says, his eyes on Plankton's chest as it rises and falls. Patrick's curiosity doesn't wane. "But why?" he whispers. Sponge Bob thinks for a moment, his spongy brow furrowing. "It's because of the medicine," he explains. "It helps with the pain, but it makes him sleepy. It's like when you're sleeping so soundly that you don't even know you're snoring," he says. "It's just his body's way of getting air." Patrick nods, his eyes never leaving Plankton's face, his eyes studying Plankton's slightly parted mouth. "But why does he make that noise?" Patrick asks, his curiosity boundless. Sponge Bob sighs. "Well, sometimes when we sleep, our throats relax and vibrate," he says, his voice soothing. "It's like when you're trying to make a funny sound, but it just happens when we're asleep, Patrick, snoring is something our bodies just do when we're really relaxed," Sponge Bob explains, his voice patient. Patrick nods, his finger still hovering over Plankton's cast. "But what about his leg?" he whispers. "Is it okay to sleep like this?" Sponge Bob nods, his eyes on Plankton's chest rising and falling with each snore. "It's fine," he says. "The cast is designed to keep his leg still. It's important for healing." Patrick's eyes move to Plankton's face, his gaze lingering on his mouth. "What's with the mouth?" he asks, his voice filled with wonder. Sponge Bob chuckles. "It's just his mouth relaxing," he says. "Everyone's face looks a bit different when they're sleeping. It's all part of his body getting the rest it needs." Patrick nods, his eyes now on Plankton's antennae, which are twitching slightly. "What about those?" he whispers. "Do they move in his sleep?" Karen smiles. "Sometimes," she says. "They can move when he's dreaming. Sometimes, when we dream, our bodies react to what's happening in our minds." Patrick's eyes light up with interest. "What do you think he's dreaming about?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. Sponge Bob shrugs. "Could be anything," he says. "Maybe he's dreaming about inventing the best Krabby Patty ever. Everyone's body does something different when they're asleep." "But why does his mouth hang open?" he asks, his voice filled with curiosity. Sponge Bob explains, "It's like when you're sleeping, and you don't realize your mouth is open," he says. "It's just his way of breathing when he's in a deep sleep. And, when we're asleep, our muscles relax, including the ones that keep our mouths closed." Patrick nods, his gaze still fixed on Plankton's open mouth.

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

DO YOU TRUST ME pt. 22 𝖠𝗎𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗋'𝗌 𝖣𝗂𝗌𝖼𝗅𝖺𝗂𝗆𝖾𝗋 𝖭𝗈𝗍𝖾 𝘐 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘵. 𝘐'𝘮 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘚𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘮 𝘮𝘺𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧. 𝘐 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘤 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘭𝘶𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘐'𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘥𝘥 𝘮𝘺 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴. 𝘚𝘰 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦, 𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘴𝘮 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘴 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺. 𝘞𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘩, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘷𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴. 𝘐 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘪𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘨𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶. ( emojicombos.com/neurofabulous ) Plankton's mouth moves with his snores, the gauze pads in his mouth muffling the sound, the crimson tinge to the white fabric. His drool pools and runs down the side of his face. Karen watches, her thoughts a tumult of emotion. She's relieved that the procedure went well but torn apart by the knowledge that Plankton's fear was so intense. Her hand remains steadfast on his, her thumb brushing over his skin in gentle circles. The doctor checks his watch, his eyes on Plankton's slack form. "Almost time for him to wake up," he says softly. Karen nods, her heart racing as she braces herself for his reaction. Karen can't help but think about how much he's been through today, and she wonders if he'll ever trust her the same way again. The minutes tick by, each one feeling like an eternity. The only sounds in the room are the steady beeps of the monitors and the soft snores of Plankton's slumber. Karen's hand doesn't stop moving, her thumb tracing comforting patterns on his palm. When Plankton stirs, his antennae twitching slightly, Karen's eyes fill with relief. "Hey, baby," she whispers, her voice a caress. "You're okay." His eye opens slowly, blinking against the light. He looks around, his gaze finally settling on Karen. For a moment, his expression is lost, a swirl of confusion and fear. Then he sees her smile, and the world falls into place. "Huh," he whispers, his voice slurred from the anesthesia. Karen's smile widens. The numbness in his mouth is a strange, disconnected sensation, like his teeth are floating in a sea of cotton. Plankton tries to sit up, his movements clumsy and slow. Karen's hand on his shoulder is firm but gentle, guiding him back down. "Easy, sweetie," she says. The doctor nods, his expression a blend of concern and reassurance. "Just give it a few more minutes," he says. "Let the anesthesia wear off a bit more." Plankton's eye focuses on her, his mind fuzzy. The gauze in his mouth feels like a soggy sponge, absorbing the blood from his teeth. He tries to talk, but his words are muted and garbled. "Ma-" Karen nods, her smile understanding. "I know, baby. It'll be okay." The doctor checks the monitors, his expression calm. "Looks like you're coming out of it," he says. "Just a few more minutes." Karen nods, her hand still on Plankton's. Plankton's body feels strange, his movements sluggish. The numbness of his mouth spreads to his cheeks, his face feeling swollen and alien. He tries to talk. "Ma-Ma-Ma-Ma-" Karen understands his attempt at words. She leans closer, smiling gently. "It's okay, sweetie. You're okay." Her voice is a soothing song, a balm to his fearful soul. His tongue feels like a thick slab of meat, unresponsive and foreign. The drool continues to flow. Plankton's gaze moves from Karen to the doctor, his eye wide and searching. "Wheh...what...whath happen'd?" he mumbles around the gauze, his mouth feeling like it's filled with cotton. His tongue is a dead weight, refusing to form words. Karen's smile is a lifeline in the fog of his confusion. "You had a little procedure," she says, her voice gentle. "The wisdom teeth are out." Plankton's antennae twitch, trying to remember the conversation that had led to this. The fear is a distant memory now, dulled by the anesthesia. His mouth feels strange, unfamiliar. He reaches up to touch his swollen cheek, his hand shaky and clumsy. "Ma-Ma-Ma-Ma--" He tries to form words, his mind still sluggish. Karen's eyes are full of love and concern as she gently takes his hand. "It's okay," she says. "The numbness will go away soon." Plankton nods, his head lolling slightly as his body adjusts to the lack of sensation. His drool pools on the gauze pads, the saliva spilling over onto his chin. He's vaguely aware of the mess he's making, but the fear has been replaced by a dull, heavy weight. The doctor's voice is a comforting murmur in the background, talking to Karen about aftercare and pain management. Karen's hand is still in his, her fingers tight around his own. He tries to squeeze back, but his hand feels floppy and unresponsive. "K-Karen wiww I...?" he slurs, his thoughts still tangled. Her eyes are warm with comfort. "You're going to be fine," she assures him, wiping away a stray drop from the corner of his mouth. "We'll go home soon." He perks up. "Thoon?" The doctor nods. "We'll keep an eye on him for a bit longer," he says. "But you can take him home once he's more awake." Karen nods, her thumb continuing to trace gentle circles on his palm. Plankton's eye is glazed with the remnants of anesthesia, but his antennae twitch with excitement. The room spins around Plankton, the walls a blur. He tries to sit up again, his body fighting against the lingering effects of the drugs. Karen's grip is firm but loving, keeping him anchored to the chair. "Just a bit longer," she soothes. His mouth feels like a cavern, the gauze thick and unyielding. He tries to speak, his tongue a traitor against his will. "Doeth...doeth it huth?" The words come out garbled, a nonsensical string of syllables. Karen nods, her smile understanding. "Your mouth will feel funny for a bit," she explains, her voice a soothing hum. "It's normal, just give it some time." Her thumb keeps moving, a small, reassuring gesture. The doctor's words drift in and out of Plankton's awareness. "You'll have to take it easy for a few days," he's saying. "No crunchy foods, lots of ice for the swelling." Karen nods, her eyes on Plankton's face as she listens. Plankton's tongue is a sluggish weight in his mouth, his teeth a distant memory beneath the cottony numbness. He tries to form a full sentence. "Muh...muh...muh... Yith?" Plankton's voice is a garbled mess, the words sticking to his numb tongue like glue. Karen's heart squeezes in her chest as she tries not to laugh. "What did you say, sweetie?" He sighs, frustrated, his antennae drooping. "I thaid, doth Chip know?" His speech is still slurred, the words coming out like a drunken mumble. Karen nods. "He's waiting outside," she says. "He's been worried about you." The mention of Chip seems to anchor him. His eye brightens, the confusion in it clearing slightly. "Chip," he murmurs. Karen smiles. "Yes, Chip," she repeats, her voice a soft echo. "You remember now?" Plankton's antennae twitch in affirmation. "Muh...mouth." Karen nods, her expression full of understanding. "It's okay," she says. "Your mouth will feel normal again soon." The doctor's voice is a steady stream of instructions, his words a lifeline in Plankton's foggy reality. "Keep the gauze in for an hour, chew gently to keep the blood flowing," he says, his tone calm and soothing. Plankton nods, his eye unfocused. Karen's hand is a comforting weight on his shoulder, her voice a lullaby as she repeats the instructions back to him. "We'll go get some ice cream," she says, her tone hopeful. "Something soft and sweet to help your mouth feel better. Ready to meet Chip out in the lobby?" Plankton nods, his movements jerky and awkward. The numbness in his mouth still lingers, his tongue a dead weight as he tries to speak. "I-I...finks...sho." His voice is a slurred mess, but the meaning is clear. Karen laughs gently, her hands moving to help him sit up. "Let's go, then," she says, her voice filled with relief and love. Plankton's eye widens slightly as he takes in his surroundings, his movements still slow and sluggish. The doctor nods, his expression a mix of pride and sympathy. Her arm is around him, supporting his weight as she helps him stand up.

DO YOU TRUST ME pt. 23 𝖠𝗎𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗋'𝗌 𝖣𝗂𝗌𝖼𝗅𝖺𝗂𝗆𝖾𝗋 𝖭𝗈𝗍𝖾 𝘐 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘵. 𝘐'𝘮 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘚𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘮 𝘮𝘺𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧. 𝘐 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘤 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘭𝘶𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘐'𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘥𝘥 𝘮𝘺 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴. 𝘚𝘰 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦, 𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘴𝘮 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘴 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺. 𝘞𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘩, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘷𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴. 𝘐 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘪𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘨𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶. ( emojicombos.com/neurofabulous ) Plankton's legs feel like jelly, his movements exaggerated as he tries to follow her lead. His tongue is a clumsy thing in his mouth, his teeth a strange, unfamiliar landscape. "C-Chip," he stammers, his speech still slurred. Karen nods, her smile warm and encouraging. "Let's go," she says, her arm around him. The hallway is a blur of colors and sounds. His antennae twitch, trying to make sense of the world around him. Chip is in the lobby, his eyes wide with worry as he sees them. He rushes forward, his movements cautious. "What happe—" But Plankton is a mess of gauze, his words still lost as he interrupts his son. "Hi-Hi-Hi-Hi—" He stammers, his voice a slurred mess. Chip's eyes widen with concern, taking in his father's swollen face and the crimson-soaked pads in his mouth. He swallows hard, his voice trembling. "Dad?" Karen steps in, her voice firm but gentle. "He just had his wisdom teeth taken out," she explains. "His mouth is still numb." Chip nods, his eyes never leaving Plankton's face. Plankton tries to smile around the gauze, his antennae waving in an awkward attempt at reassurance. "T-thank you," he slurs, his voice muffled by the pads. Chip's eyes fill with tears at the sight of his father, his heart heavy with a mix of pity and love. They make their way slowly to the car, Karen's supportive arm around Plankton's waist. His legs feel like rubber, his body still fighting the lingering effects of the anesthesia. "M-muh...m-m-mouth," he mumbles, his tongue a sluggish beast in his mouth. Karen laughs softly, her hands guiding him gently. "You'll be okay," she says, her voice a warm embrace. "Let's get you in the back with Chip." She opens the door to the back. Plankton slumps into his seat, the numbness in his mouth spreading to his cheeks. His tongue is a thick, unresponsive slab, refusing to cooperate. Karen buckles him in, her eyes full of love and concern. "Just relax, baby," she whispers. "We'll be home soon." She starts the car, the engine purring to life. Chip sits by him in the seat. The world outside the window is a blur of colors, each one more vivid than the last. Plankton tries to keep his eye open, his antennae twitching with the effort. But the weight of the anesthesia is too much. His eyelid droops, the lid feeling like heavy curtains that refuse to stay up. Karen's voice is gentle. "You okay, sweetie?" she asks, glancing in the rearview mirror. But Plankton's eye is closing, the weight of the anesthesia too great to fight. "J-just tiwed," he mumbles, his speech still thick and slurred. "S-sleep, must shay awake?" Karen's voice is a warm whisper. "It's okay," she says. Plankton's head lolls against the seat, his antennae drooping. "Chip and I are here. We'll watch over yo-" But her words are lost as Plankton's eyelid gives way to the seductive pull of sleep. His breaths deepen, his snores a gentle accompaniment to the hum of the engine. Chip's gaze is filled with concern, his hand tentative as he touches his father's arm. "Dad?" His voice is a soft question, but Plankton doesn't stir. The car sways gently with the road's undulations, a lullaby that Plankton's exhausted body can't resist. Karen's eyes flicker to the mirror, a sigh escaping her lips. She knows the importance of rest for him now, his system still reeling from the surgery and the overwhelming emotions of the day. She keeps driving, her hands steady on the wheel. "It's okay, Chip," she says. "Let him sleep." Chip nods, his expression a mix of relief and worry. He watches his father's chest rise and fall, the steady rhythm of his breathing a testament to the peace he's found in slumber. His hand remains on Plankton's arm, a silent pledge of support. Yet Plankton sleeps on, oblivious to the world outside. The car ride home is quiet, the only sounds the hum of the engine and Plankton's snores. Karen drives with a gentle touch, each bump in the road a reminder of the fragile recovery her husband is experiencing. She glances in the mirror every few minutes, checking on him and Chip. Chip sits next to his father, his hand resting lightly on Plankton's arm. He's torn between watching the scenery fly by and keeping vigil over the man he loves. His heart thuds with every snore, his mind racing with worries and questions. Is he okay? Why can't he stay awake? The car's air conditioning blows gently on Plankton's face, his antennae muscles twitching against the coolness. His eye opens briefly, his gaze unfocused. "Ch-Chip?" His voice is a faint rasp, the remnants of sleep clinging to his words. "I'm right here, Dad," Chip says, his voice filled with concern. Plankton's eyelid flickers, battling the weight of slumber. The world is a swirl of colors and light, his brain struggling to make sense of it all. He tries to sit up, his body stiff from the lingering anesthesia. "Home?" he mumbles. Karen's eyes meet his in the mirror, her smile soft. "Almost, baby," she says, her voice a gentle lull. "Just a little bit longer." Her eyes flick back to the road, her grip on the steering wheel steady. Plankton's eyelid droops again, his head rolling slightly to the side. His antennae twitch with the effort to stay conscious, but the pull of sleep is too much. Chip's grip on his arm tightens, his voice a soft alarm. "Dad, stay with me." Plankton's eye opens a crack, his gaze unfocused. "M-m-m'kay," he mumbles, his speech still slurred. But the fight is lost almost immediately, his eye closing once more. The car sways with the road, a gentle rocking motion that seems to call to him, urging him back to sleep. Each snore is deeper than the last, his body succumbing to the sleep. Karen's eyes remain on the road, her thoughts a silent vigil. Chip's hand moves to his father's shoulder, his touch light but firm. "Wake up, Dad," he whispers, his voice a gentle prod. But Plankton's body resists, his head rolling back into the comfort of the seat. "Dad, wake up," Chip tries again, his tone more insistent this time. Plankton's eye opens a slit, the world swimming into focus briefly before slipping away again. "Wh-whath?" he murmurs, his voice a slurred mess. "Almost home," Karen says, her voice soothing. "Just stay awake a little longer." But the drugs are too powerful, the sedative's grip too tight. His eye closes again, his head falling back onto the headrest with a soft thunk. Chip watches, his heart racing, his hand still gripping his father's shoulder. "Come on, Dad," he whispers, his voice desperate. "Don't go to sleep." Karen's eyes meet his in the mirror, a look of understanding. "It's okay, Chip," she says. "Let him rest." The car pulls into the driveway, the gravel crunching beneath the tires. Plankton's eye flutters open, his gaze unfocused. "Home," he mumbles, his voice barely a whisper. Karen's eyes are filled with gentle concern as she turns off the engine. "Let's get you inside," she says, her voice a comforting balm. Chip's hands are already moving, helping his father unbuckle his seatbelt. Plankton's movements are slow and clumsy, his body still not fully his own. His legs wobble as he tries to stand, his eye glazed with the lingering effects of the anesthesia. "Easy, Dad," Chip says, his voice steady and firm. Karen opens the passenger side door, her arms ready to catch him if he falls. Plankton's sleeping body sags into her embrace. She helps him to his feet, yet Plankton's snores punctuate the air like a soft metronome. Chip rushes around to the other side, his arms slipping under his father's shoulders. "I got you," he says, his voice shaking with the weight of his words. Plankton's body is a dead weight, his snores deep and even. Karen's eyes are filled with a mix of pride and concern as she watches her son take charge. "Let's get you to the couch," she says, guiding them both. The house is quiet, the only sounds their footsteps and Plankton's snores. They manage to get him to the couch, his body slumping into the cushions. Karen pulls the gauze from his mouth, the stains of blood and saliva telling the tale of his journey. His cheeks are swollen and bruised, a testament to the battle his mouth just endured. "Chip, grab some ice," she instructs, her voice calm. "We'll need to keep the swelling down." Chip nods, his movements swift as he disappears into the kitchen. The sound of ice cubes clinking against plastic is a sharp contrast to the quiet snores that fill the room. "Wake up, sweetie," she says, her voice a soft coax. Plankton's antennae twitch, his eye opening slowly. He tries to focus, but the world is a blur of colors and shapes. Karen's face swims into view, her smile a beacon of comfort. "Ice," she says. Chip appears, a bag of crushed ice in his hand. He gently presses it to Plankton's cheek, the coldness a stark contrast to the warmth of his mother's touch. "Tanks," Plankton whispers, his speech still slurred. His hand moves to the bag, his fingers trembling. But this time he doesn't tremble from being overwhelmed—it's from the relief of being home, of being safe with his family.

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

"Honey, did you take out the trash?" Karen called out to the living room. The only reply was the distant sound of the TV playing a sitcom laugh track. She sighed. Going into the living room, Karen found her husband, Plankton, sprawled out on the couch, snoring lightly. The TV's blue light flickered over his face. She looked around the room, the piles of laundry, the dusty bookshelves, and the half-eaten sandwich on the coffee table. It was a mess, but she knew better than to wake him. Plankton had been working long hours at the chum factory lately, trying to make ends meet. His snoring grew louder, and she felt a wave of affection mixed with concern. Gently, she covered his legs with a blanket and bent to kiss his forehead. He stirred slightly but didn't wake up. In the kitchen, Karen grabbed a cup of coffee, the warmth and aroma grounding her for the evening ahead. The fridge hummed a low lullaby, reminding her of the chores left to do. The sink was full of dirty dishes, remnants of dinner. A pot with half-eaten chum congealed on the stovetop. Karen rolled up her sleeves, determined to tackle the chaos. She knew Plankton was exhausted from work. The clanking of pots and pans echoed through the tiny kitchen as she washed and sorted, her mind racing with thoughts of their future. A knock at the door startled her. She dried her hands on a towel, leaving wet spots like tears on the fabric. It was Hanna, her best friend since high school. Karen had not seen Hanna in weeks, and the sight of her brought a smile. Hanna was a burst of energy. "Hi, Karen! How's it going?" Hanna's voice was a mix of sweetness and the sharpness of someone who had seen too much of the world. She scanned the room, taking in the clutter, the stale smell of overworked air, and Plankton's snoring. "Hey, Hanna," Karen managed, her voice soft to not disturb his sleep. "It's been a bit hectic, but we're making do." Hanna stepped in, eyeing the mess sympathetically. "Looks like you could use a hand," she said, already grabbing a dish towel. Karen's smile grew. "You read my mind. Thanks." Hanna tossed the towel over her shoulder, ready to jump into the fray. "You know me," she said with a wink. "I've never been one to shy away from a mess." The two of them worked side by side, the rhythm of their movements harmonizing as they cleared the kitchen. Karen felt the tension in her shoulders begin to ease as Hanna filled the room with stories of her latest adventures, a welcome distraction from the monotony of chores. As the last plate was put away, the fridge closed with a satisfying click, Karen leaned against the counter. Hanna looked at her. "You've been carrying a lot, haven't you?" she asked, her voice gentle. Karen nodded, her eyes welling up. "It's just that with Plankton's job, and the bills..." Hanna pulled her into a tight hug. "I know, sweetie. You're doing the best you can." They sat down in the living room, the clean kitchen a testament to their friendship's strength. Hanna's screen searched Karen's for a sign of the spark that used to be there. "I can't remember the last time we went out together," Hanna said. "You two deserve a break." Karen's screen lit up at the suggestion, but quickly dimmed. "We can't afford it," she said, sighing. "Not with the overtime Plankton's been doing." Hanna leaned in, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Well, I might have a little surprise for you," she said. Karen looked up, curiosity piqued. "What do you mean?" Hanna pulled out a small envelope from her pocket and handed it to her friend. "A gift," she said with a sly smile. "A check from my winning lottery ticket." Karen's eyes widened as she opened the envelope. "Hanna, no!" she protested. "You can't just give us your winnings!" Hanna's smile didn't waver. "I can, and I want to. You've been there for me through everything. It's about time I returned the favor. Besides," she said with a wink, "what's a little chum between friends?" Karen's hands trembled as she read the check. It was more than enough to cover their rent and bills for several months. Tears slipped down her cheeks, and she hugged Hanna tightly. "Thank you," she whispered. The weight of financial stress lifted slightly from her shoulders, replaced by a warmth that spread through her chest. For a moment, the world didn't seem so overwhelming. Hanna pulled back, her own eyes shining with unshed tears. "Now, don't spend it all in one place," she teased. Karen laughed, the sound small but genuine. "I won't," she promised, the check clutched in her hand. "We'll use it wisely." The two of them sat quietly for a while, enjoying the rare moment of peace. The TV had switched to the news, and the low murmur of the anchor's voice filled the room. Plankton's snoring had become a comforting white noise. Hanna looked at Plankton, her expression thoughtful. "You know, I've always admired the way you take care of him," she said. "It can't be easy." Karen nodded, her thumb tracing the edges of the check. "It's not," she admitted. "But he's my Plankton. I love him, even when he's exhausting." Her gaze drifted to the sleeping form of her husband. Plankton's snores grew more even, his face finally relaxed. The lines of stress that usually pinched his features had smoothed out in sleep. Karen knew that Plankton had always dreamed of more than his life at the chum factory could offer. He was a man of ambition, his spirit too large for the cramped quarters they called home. Her thoughts turned to the gift from Hanna. The check represented more than just money; it was a beacon of hope that maybe, just maybe, they could finally start working towards those dreams.

𝖳𝖮 𝖢𝖧𝖠𝖭𝖦𝖤 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖶𝖮𝖱𝖫𝖣 pt. 18 Sequel to Autism And All by NeuroFabulous https://emojicombos.com/autism-and-all Read the Autism And All one first! The silence stretches out, comfortable and filled with a newfound respect. Plankton's antennae twitch slightly in his sleep, as if even in his dreams, he's still trying to process the world around him. The next day, Krabs goes to visit Karen and Plankton again in the morning. The room is bathed in soft, early-morning light, and Plankton is still asleep. His breathing is slow and even, the plush octopus a comforting presence beside him. Krabs watches him, his heart swelling with a strange mixture of emotions—fear, sorrow, and a newfound respect. He turns to Karen, his claws fidgeting with a nervous energy. "How can I know when a seizure is coming?" He asks, his voice hushed so as not to disturb the sleeping Plankton. "What if I can't tell the difference?" Karen smiles, her eyes warm with understanding. "It's ok," she says. "You'll learn." She reaches over to gently touch Plankton's arm. "The signs can be subtle. Maybe his eye will glaze over usually. But the most important thing is to be patient and to listen." Krabs nods, his claws stilling. "What about his stims?" He asks, his voice soft. "When he says things or makes those sounds? I mean, does he-" Karen cuts him off gently. "It's important not to interrupt his stims, Krabs," she explains. "They're a personal way for him to self-regulate, to process the world around him." She looks at him, her screen kind. "But if you're really curious, the best thing to do is ask him, when he's feeling comfortable and ready to talk." Krabs nods, his mind whirling with questions. He's always been so focused on the now, on the chase for the next big score, that he's never stopped to consider the complexities of someone else's experience. But now, sitting here in this quiet room, watching his enemy sleep peacefully, he can't help but feel a shameful curiosity about the person Plankton is underneath the surface. "What about his obsession with the Krabby Patty?" He whispers to Karen, his voice barely above a murmur. "Is that part of it too?" Karen nods, a knowing smile on her screen. "It's not just an obsession, Krabs. It's a special interest. It's how Plankton's brain processes information. For some autistic people, it's a way to focus and find comfort in a world that can be chaotic." Krabs' eyes widen, his mind racing. "So...his quest to steal the recipe isn't just about greed?" Karen sighs, her gaze softening. "It's about more than that. It's about understanding something that gives him comfort, and having control over it." Krabs nods, his mind whirling with the depth of what he's learning. "So, his stims, his words, they're his way of...finding order?" Karen smiles, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "In a sense, yes. Autism is a spectrum, Krabs. We all have our quirks, but for some, those quirks are their lifeline." She strokes Plankton's antennae. "His brain is wired differently, and these things are his way of making sense of the world." Krabs nods, his gaze firmly on Plankton. "What can I do to help?" He asks, his voice soft, earnest. "How can I be a better...friend?" Karen's smile blooms fully. "Just be there," she repeats, her voice a gentle caress. "Learn his cues, his triggers. Give him space when he needs it, and support when he reaches out." Karen's hand moves to Plankton's, their fingers interlocking. "And also, don't be afraid to enjoy the little things," she whispers. "His laugh, his excitement—those are just as much a part of who he is as his challenges." Krabs nods, his gaze never leaving Plankton's sleeping face. "I'll try," he promises, his voice thick with emotion. "I just want to be there for him." Karen's smile is gentle, her eyes warm. "I know you do," she says. "And he'll know it too, in his own way." She pauses, considering her next words. "You might find that your friendship will change," she adds. "But if you're patient, it could be more beautiful than you ever imagined." Krabs nods, his gaze never leaving Plankton's slumbering form. He can't help but feel a sense of awe at the strength it must take to live in a world that's not always understanding. "I want to learn," he murmurs. "I want to make things right." Karen looks at him, her eyes filled with warmth. "Then you already have," she says. "Just by being here, by asking, you're showing you care." Krabs leans forward, his curiosity piqued. "What else can you tell me?" He asks, his voice eager. "What types of things does he like? Or what sets him off?" Karen looks at him, her expression a blend of patience and understanding. "Well, he's quite sensitive to certain textures and sounds." Krabs leans in, his eyes shining with curiosity. "Like what?" He asks, eager to know more. "Certain loud, sudden noises can trigger his overstimulation," Karen continues, her eyes never leaving Plankton's sleeping form. "And some touches, like a pat on the back, might feel like a punch to him. But he's also quite fond of soft textures, like the one of this blanket," she says, running a finger over the plush material. Krabs nods, his gaze thoughtful. "I've noticed he doesn't like when SpongeBob squeezes him too hard." He chuckles softly, the memory of Plankton's exasperation at the overly-enthusiastic sponge still vivid. "But he doesn't seem to mind your touch.." Karen smiles, her eyes knowing. "It's all about consent," she says, her voice calm and even. "We all have our preferences, but for Plankton, it's more than just a preference—it's a need." Krabs nods, his gaze still on Plankton. He's always been so focused on his own desires, so used to getting what he wants that he's never really stopped to think about what others need. "How do I know when he's overwhelmed?" He whispers, his voice filled with a newfound respect. Karen looks at him, her expression gentle. "You'll learn his cues," she says. "It's about being observant, noticing when his breathing changes or his body tenses up." She pauses, her thumb stroking Plankton's arm. "But it's also about asking, Krabs. Communication is key."