New Reality Emojis & Text

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

🔢

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

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

⠾⡿⠻⠟⠿⠻⠟⠿⠻⠟⠟⠻⠛⠟⠻⠛⠟⠻⠛⠟⠻⠛⠟⠟⠻⠛⠟⠻⠟⠻⠛⠟⠻⠛⠟⠟⠻⠟⠻⢿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠚⠛⠛⠛⠓⠛⠛⠛⢛⠛⠛⠛⠚⠛⢺⡇⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢢⣥⣀⣀⡤⠤⠤⠤⠤⢤⣤⢤⡤⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⢸⣧⣶⣴⣦⣦⣤⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⢸⣿⣇⡶⠶⠶⠾⢯⡿⠶⠶⠶⣶⣶⣶⣦⣤⣴⣤⣄
⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⢸⣿⡏⠉⠉⠉⠉⠙⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠦⠤⠌⢻
⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⢸⣾⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸
⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⢸⣿⡁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿
⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⢸⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿
⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣦⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⢸⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣤⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿
⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠛⠻⠿⠿⠿⠛⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⢸⣿⣦⢤⣤⣤⣤⣼⣿⣿⣿⣆⣀⢀⠀⡀⠀⠀⣸⣿
⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⢸⡇⠀⠁⠀⠉⠉⠁⢛⣿⠋⠉⠉⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠋⠉
⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠿⠛⠞⠳⠞⠳⠞⠳⠞⠳⠞⠳⠞⠶⠳⠞⠶⠳⠞⠶⠳⠳⠞⠳⠞⠳⠞⠇⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣆⠐⡂⢆⠰⣀⠢⡐⢄⠢⡐⢄⠢⡐⢠⠀⡄⣶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠾⠯⠿⠽⠿⠽⠯⠿⠿⠿⠽⠿⠯⠿⠯⢿⡇⠀⠀⠀
⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⡘⠐⢂⠒⣀⠒⠰⢈⠰⠐⢂⢂⠑⠂⠥⠐⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡆⣆⡈⣉⢉⡈⣀⢁⣈⢀⡁⣉⢁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀
⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣧⣬⣥⣦⣬⣤⣬⣤⣥⣦⣭⣤⣦⣬⣥⣦⣥⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀
⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀
⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⢈⠀⠡⠈⠄⠡⠈⠄⠡⢈⠠⠁⡈⠄⠁⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀
⠀⡇⠀⣤⡾⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⣀⣈⣀⣁⢂⡠⢁⣂⡐⣀⢂⡐⣀⣈⠀⢀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀
⢄⣧⡟⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀
⣾⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡆⠀⠠⢀⠠⠀⠄⠠⠀⠄⠠⠀⠄⠠⢀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀
⡿⣿⣄⣤⣶⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠐⡀⠄⠠⠀⠄⠠⠀⠄⠠⠀⠄⠠⠀⠂⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀
⠁⡟⢿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠇⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠐⠀⠀⠐⠀⠀⠐⠀⠀⠀⠠⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀
⠀⡇⠀⠙⠿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⡆⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀
⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣇⣀⣈⣀⣀⣁⣈⣀⣁⣈⣀⣁⣈⣀⣁⣠⣀⣿⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣸⡧⠀⠀⠀
⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠛⠙⠋⠛⠙⠋⠛⠙⠋⠛⠙⠋⠛⠙⠋⠛⠙⠋⠛⠉⠋⠙⠉⠋⠙⠉⠋⠙⢻⣽⠟⠻⠛⠟⠻⠛⠟⠻⠛⠟⠻⠛⠟⠻⠗⠀⠀⠀
⡄⣇⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠑⠛⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠛⠛⠛⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠛⠛⠛⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠛⠛⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠻⠿⠿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⠿⠿⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⠿⠿⠿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⠿⠿⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

new cabby osc inanimate insanity ii cabby inanimate insanity dot art text art ascii art

AUTISM IN THE PLANKTON FAMILY vi


(Autistic author)



"Why don't we stay in, Plankton?"
Sponge Bob suggested, noticing
his friend's lingering anxiety.
"We can still have fun."

Plankton's antennae twitched
slightly as he considered the
proposal. The thought of going
outside was overwhelming.
"Okay," he agreed, his voice
soft. "Inside."

Sponge Bob nodded, his smile
reassuring. "How about a board
game?" he offered.

Plankton's antennae twitched in
consideration. "Game," he echoed,
his voice tentative.

Sponge Bob's smile grew. "Yeah!
Which one do you want to play?"

Plankton's antennae perked up at the
mention of something familiar. "Game,"
he murmured, his voice a little
more steady. "Choose."

Sponge Bob beamed at him, happy
to see his friend willing to
participate. He picked a simple
game of checkers from the shelf,
knowing it would be less
overwhelming than the loud, bright
electronic games that Plankton had
once enjoyed.

Plankton's antennae quivered with
excitement as Sponge Bob set
up the board, his eyes fixated on
the red and black pieces. "Checkers,"
he murmured, his voice filled with
anticipation.

Sponge Bob nodded, placing the
checkers in their starting
positions. "You go first," he said,
his voice calm and steady.

Plankton's antennae quivered as
his eyes focused on the board.
He picked up a black piece, his hand
shaking slightly. "Checkers," he
whispered to himself, echoing Sponge
Bob's words. He placed it with
precision on the board.

Sponge Bob watched him.
"Good job, Plankton," he said, 
his voice soothing. "You're doing 
great."

Plankton's antennae twitched with 
each word, echoing the comfort. 
"Great," he murmured, his gaze
never leaving the checkers. He
moved a piece, his mind working
quickly to calculate his next
move. The repetitive nature of
the game was calming, a familiar
rhythm that helped him find a
moment of peace in the chaos.

"Checkers," he said again, his
voice a little more stable. The
game was a dance of strategy,
and it was a dance Plankton had
always loved. But now, it was
more than that—it was a lifeline.

The game continued, the
quiet clicks of the pieces
moving across the board
providing a soothing rhythm
to the otherwise
silent room. Plankton's antennae
stayed mostly still, only
twitching when he felt the
need to move a piece. His eye
flitted from the board to
Sponge Bob and back again, seeking
reassurance that he was doing
this right.

Sponge Bob watched him, his
face a mask of concentration,
his spongy body still. "Your turn,
Plankton," he said, his voice
calm and steady.

Plankton nodded, his antennae
quivering slightly as he reached
for a piece. He moved it with
careful deliberation, his gaze
never leaving the board.

"Good move," Sponge Bob said,
his voice a gentle encouragement.

Plankton's antennae twitched in
response, his eyes lighting up
for a moment. "Good move," he
repeated, his voice echoing
Sponge Bob's tone. The words
comforted him, a familiar
refrain in a world that had
become unpredictable.

Sponge Bob nodded, his eyes
never leaving Plankton's. "Your
turn," he prompted gently.

Plankton's antennae quivered as
his hand hovered over the board.
"Good move," he murmured, echoing
Sponge Bob's words from moments
before. His eyes focused
intently on the board, his mind
racing to find the perfect
place for the checker.

The echo of their shared phrase
was like a soft lullaby in the
quiet room, a gentle reminder of
their longstanding friendship.
Sponge Bob noticed the comfort
it brought to Plankton, the way
his body relaxed slightly with
each repetition. "Good move,"
Sponge Bob said again, his voice
soft and encouraging.

Plankton's antennae twitched,
his eye focusing on the board.
He moved a piece, whispering
"good move" under his breath.
Sponge Bob watched him, his
expression a mix of wonder and
concern. Plankton had always been
so sharp, so quick-witted, and now,
his brain was navigating a new
kind of maze.

But in this moment, as the
game progressed, it was clear
that Plankton's strategic mind
was still sharp. His moves
were calculated, precise. He
was winning, and Sponge Bob
could see the pride in his
tiny friend's eye.

Sponge Bob felt a swell of
happiness as Plankton's antennae
quivered with excitement. "King me,"
he murmured, placing his checker
on the board's edge.

Sponge Bob did so, his heart
swelling with pride for his
friend. "You're really good at this,"
he said, his voice gentle.

Plankton's antennae curled with
satisfaction. "Thanks," he
murmured, his voice a little
more stable now.

Sponge Bob watched as Plankton
placed the kinged piece back on
the board, his eyes never leaving
the game. The tension in the
room had dissipated, replaced by
the rhythmic exchange of
checkers and echoing affirmations.

"Good move," Plankton murmured
again, his voice a testament to
his focus. His antennae quivered
slightly as he anticipated Sponge
Bob's next play.

Sponge Bob studied the board,
his yellow brow furrowed. He knew
that Plankton had always been
smart, but this was something
else—a silent, intense
concentration that seemed to
have taken over his friend's
tiny form. With a soft click, he
moved his piece, watching as
Plankton's antennae followed the
move, his eye calculating.

Plankton's response was swift and
confident, his antennae barely
twitching. "Good move," Sponge Bob
said, echoing Plankton's words.
He felt a sense of awe as Plankton
countered with a move that
won the game.

Sponge Bob's cheer was sudden,
his spongy hands slapping
together with joy. "You did
it, Plankton!" he exclaimed.

Plankton's antennae shot up, his
body stiffening at the unexpected
noise. His eye grew wide, the
world around him seeming to
shrink for a moment as he was
jolted out of his focused
trance.

Sponge Bob's cheer had
unintentionally startled him,
his sudden movement a stark
contrast to the calm rhythm of
the game.
"Sorry, Plankton," Sponge Bob
apologized, quickly
lowering his voice, 
his expression
softening. "I forgot."

Plankton took a deep
breath, his antennae slowly
lowering.

Sponge Bob watched him
closely, his own excitement
dimming in the face of his
friend's distress. "It's ok," he
whispered. "You won, Plankton."

Plankton's antennae gradually
stilled, his breathing slowing
down. He nodded, his voice
small. "Won," he murmured, his
eye refocusing on the board.

Sponge Bob's smile faltered,
his heart heavy at the sight
of Plankton's distress. He
knew his cheer had been too
much, too soon. "Sorry," he
whispered, his hand hovering
above the board, unsure if he
should clean up the pieces or not.

Plankton's antennae quivered,
his gaze lingering on the
game. "Enough checkers."

Sponge Bob nodded, his
expression understanding. "Okay,
Plankton," he said, his voice
gentle. "Let's do something else."

Plankton's antennae twitched
slightly as he considered his
options. "Movie?" he suggested, his
voice tentative.

Sponge Bob's eyes lit up. "Yea!
What do you want to watch?"

Plankton's antennae twitched. "Simple
story," he murmured, his voice
still shaky. "No loud noises."

Sponge Bob nodded eagerly,
quickly searching through the
DVDs for a film that would be
comfortable for his friend. "How
about 'The Great Snail Race'?"
he suggested, holding up the
case.

Plankton's antennae twitched
with consideration. The film
was a classic, a story of
endurance and friendship, and
his brain processed the quiet
nature of the plot. "Yes," he
murmured. "Snail Race."

Sponge Bob's smile grew as he
inserted the DVD into the
player. The familiar tunes of
the opening credits filled the
room, and Plankton's antennae
swayed gently to the rhythm, his
body visibly relaxing into the
soft cushions of the couch.

Karen watched from the
sidelines, her eyes misty with
relief. Sponge Bob had always
known how to reach Plankton in
a way she couldn't. His simple,
understanding nature seemed to
break through the barriers that
autism had constructed around
his friend.

Sponge Bob pressed play, the
screen flickering to life.

The soft light from the TV cast a
glow, Plankton's eye
fixed on the snails that began to
race across the screen.

Sponge Bob sat next to Plankton.
He knew he had to
tread carefully, to be a source
of comfort without overwhelming
his friend. As the snails
moved slowly across the screen,
Plankton's antennae stilled, the
story's gentle pace a balm to
his overstimulated mind.

The movie's quiet humor
elicited a small chuckle from
Plankton, a sound that was
music to Karen. She watched
from the kitchen doorway.
Sponge Bob had always been
there for Plankton, and 
was grateful for his unwavering
support. 

new autism in the plankton family plankton vi

A LIFE OF DIVERSITY ii
(Autistic author)

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

"You ok?" she asked 
tentatively.

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

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

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

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

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

"You ok?" Karen asked, voice soft.

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

"What, the floor?" Karen asked.

"The floor," Plankton repeated.

"What about it?" Karen asked.

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

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

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

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

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

"Do you want for breakfast, Plankton?"

Plankton's eye didn't leave the floor.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Walk after breakfast," Plankton echoes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hi, Sponge Bob," she says.

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

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

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

Plankton stared at him, composing response.

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

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

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

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

new POV Karen a life of diversity plankarenbob ii

CATCH IN MY CHIP viii
(Autistic author)

The room is bathed in a soft
moonlight, the shadows playing
across Plankton's sleeping features. His
body, once taut with tension,
has relaxed into the embrace
of the bed, his arm curled
around a pillow. His antennas
now rest gently on the
pillowcase, no longer quivering
with agitation.

Karen watches him sleep, her
thoughts a jumble of worry and
love. She knows he's tired, that the
weight of the world can be too
much for him to bear at times. But
she also knows that he's strong,
that he'll face tomorrow with
determination.

The first light of dawn filters
through the curtains, painting the
room in soft shades of pink and
orange. Karen gently squeezes his
shoulder before standing, her eyes
never leaving his peaceful face.
She knows that today will be a
day of apologies and
understanding, of teaching Chip
about his dad's autism and how to
navigate the world around him.

With a soft sigh, she heads to
Chip's room, her footsteps silent
on the cool floor. She opens the door
to find him sitting up in bed,
his eyes red and puffy from crying.
He looks at her.

"Is Dad okay?" he asks, his
voice thick with sleep and the
remnants of his earlier distress.

Karen nods, her eyes filled
with a quiet determination. "We'll
talk to him when he wakes up."

The words hang in the air, a gentle
reminder of the conversation that
needs to be had. Chip nods, his eyes
still puffy from crying. He clutches
his pillow, the fabric damp from
his tears.

"But what do I do?" he asks, his
voice small and scared. "How do
I make sure I don't make him
upset again?"

Karen sits on the edge of the bed,
her hand stroking his. "You
just keep being you, Chip," she
says, her voice warm. "Daddy loves
you, and we'll learn together how
to make sure he doesn't get
overwhelmed."

Chip nods, his eyes searching
hers for reassurance. "But what
about my trophy?" he asks, his
voice still shaky.

Karen's hand stops, her gaze
dropping to the shard of plastic
he holds tightly in his fist. "We'll
fix it," she says, her voice
filled with conviction. "Together."

The promise brings a small
smile to Chip's face, his eyes
lighting up. "Really?"

Karen nods, her own smile
genuine. "Of course, honey,"
she says. "We're a family. We
stick together."

With that, she stands up, her
body weary but her spirit
resolute. The room feels
lighter somehow, the air less
charged with tension.

Chip clambers out of bed, his
small hand reaching for hers.
Together, they walk to the
bedroom, the shattered
remnants of the trophy
glinting in the early light.

Plankton is still asleep,
his chest rising and falling in
a steady rhythm. Chip
looks at him, his eyes filled
with a mix of sadness and
curiosity.

"We'll talk to him when he
wakes up," Karen says, her voice
soft.

They sit beside Plankton's
bed, the room still and quiet.
Chip's hand trembles slightly as
he holds the broken piece
of trophy. "But what if he's still
mad?" he whispers, his voice
barely above the silence.

Karen's hand squeezes his.
"He'll understand," she says,
her voice filled with a calm
certainty. "He loves you, and he
knows you didn't mean to hurt
him."

The words are a gentle balm
to Chip's fears, but the doubt
lingers. He nods, his gaze
never leaving his father.

"Remember, Chip," Karen says, her
voice a soft whisper. "Daddy's
brain is different."

Chip nods, his eyes fixed on
his dad's sleeping form. He's
seen Plankton stressed before,
but never like this. He wants to
show him love.

With tentative steps, he moves
closer to the bed, his heart
beating a staccato in his chest.
He reaches out, his hand shaking
slightly as he hovers it over
his dad's arm.

"Chip," Karen whispers, her hand
covering his. "Remember, gentle."
Her words are a gentle
reminder of the invisible lines
that can be crossed.

Chip nods, his eyes on Plankton's
peaceful face. He takes a deep
breath, his hand steadying. Slowly,
so slowly it's almost imperceptible,
he brings his palm to rest
on Plankton's forearm, his touch
as light as a feather.

Plankton's body tenses for a
moment, a reflexive reaction to
the sudden contact. Chip holds
his breath, waiting, hoping.
Then, almost imperceptibly, he feels
his dad's arm relax under his hand.

"It's okay," Karen whispers, her
voice a gentle breeze. "He's okay."

Chip's hand remains hovering, his
heart in his throat. Plankton's
body remains still, his breathing
even. Karen's touch is a guide,
her hand resting on Chip's.

"It's okay," she whispers, her voice
a soft encouragement. "You can
do it."

With a deep breath, Chip's hand
descends, his fingertips brushing
against Plankton's arm.

Plankton's antennas twitch.
Karen watches, her eyes never
leaving her husband's face.

Chip's hand hovers, his
heart racing. He wants to
reassure his dad, to let him
know he's there. He's
learned about space and
understanding, but all he
can think of is the warmth of
his touch, the comfort
he craves to give.

His fingertips graze Plankton's
arm, the contact so light it's
barely there. He watches,
waiting for a reaction, for a
sign that he's crossed the line.
But Plankton remains still,
his breathing unchanged.

Encouraged, Chip presses down
slightly, his hand a soft
weight on his father's arm.
He feels the warmth of his
skin, the steady pulse beneath.
It's a tentative connection,
fragile as spider silk.

Plankton's antennas quiver,
but his body remains still.
Chip's heart hammers in his chest,
his breaths shallow and quick.
He's afraid to move, afraid
to break the spell.

Karen watches, her eyes
filled with a quiet hope.
The air in the room is thick
with anticipation.

Chip's hand hovers over
Plankton's arm, trembling
slightly with nerves and
love. He's unsure if this
small gesture will be met
with anger or acceptance.

Karen's gaze is a silent
cheer, urging him on. Plankton's
breaths remain steady, his body
still. Chip's heart is a
drum in his chest, each beat
a silent plea for
understanding.

With a tremble, he lets his hand
settle, his fingertips barely
grazing the fabric of the blanket.
He feels the heat of Plankton's skin,
the rise and fall of his chest.
It's a gentle touch, the lightest
of caresses.

Karen's hand remains on his,
guiding him, encouraging him.
Plankton's breaths remain steady,
his body still. Chip's eyes
are wide with hope, his hand
poised above the blanket.

With a tremble, he lets his
fingers come to rest on the
cotton, feeling the warmth
of his father's arm beneath.
He holds his breath, waiting
for a reaction, for any sign
that he's done the right thing.

Plankton's body remains still,
his breathing unchanged.
Karen's eyes are glued to
his face, watching for any
hint of distress. But there's
none. Only the gentle rise
and fall of his chest, a testament
to his deep sleep.

Chip's hand is a butterfly
landing on Plankton's arm, his
fingers fluttering slightly
against the warmth of his
skin. He's never felt so
exposed, so vulnerable. But
his love for his dad is stronger
than his fear.

Karen watches the silent
exchange, her heart in her throat.
The moment feels sacred, a
testament to their growing
understanding of each other.

Chip's hand remains on Plankton's
arm, the warmth of his touch a
promise of comfort and love.
He's afraid to move, afraid to
disrupt the delicate balance.
Karen's hand is a soft presence,
guiding him, giving him
the courage to stay.

Plankton's breaths are slow
and even, his body relaxed.
Chip wonders if he's dreaming, if he's
in a world where the sensory
overload doesn't exist. His heart
swells with hope, with the
desire to protect his dad from
the world's harshness.

Karen's hand on his is
a gentle reminder that he's not
alone. She gives him a small,
encouraging nod, her eyes filled
with understanding. He takes a
deep breath, his hand moving
slowly, so slowly, to cover his dad's.

The moment their skin
touches, it's like a dam breaks.
Chip feels a rush of warmth, a
connection that's been missing.
He squeezes Plankton's arm lightly,
his heart pounding. He's afraid to
move, afraid to breathe too loudly.

Karen's eyes never leave
Plankton's face, watching for any
sign of distress. But his features
remain relaxed, his antennas
still. The room is a sanctuary
of quiet, the only sound their
melded breaths. Chip feels a
lump form in his throat, his eyes
welling with tears.

He whispers, "Thank you," to
his mom, his voice shaky with
emotion. She nods, her hand
still covering his. "Remember,"
she says, her voice a soft
caress. "Gentle."

With trembling fingers, Chip
tucks the blanket closer around
Plankton, the fabric smoothing
over his shoulders. It's a
tiny act of love, a silent
apology. He wants to crawl into
the bed beside him, to wrap
his arms around his dad..

He looks up at Karen, his
eyes pleading. "Can I?"

Karen nods, her smile sad
but understanding. "Just be
careful not to wake him,"
she whispers.

With the grace of a
cat burglar, Chip slides into the
bed, his movements slow and
calculated. He's careful not
to disturb the sheets, not to
make a sound that could break
the tranquil silence.

Plankton's arm is a warm
mound beside him, and he
reaches out tentatively, his
fingers seeking the comfort
of his dad's skin. He finds it,
his hand coming to rest lightly
on the crook of his elbow.
The connection feels right,
like finding a piece of himself
he didn't know was lost.

He snuggles closer, his head
resting on the pillow beside
Plankton's.

Karen watches, her heart
swelling with love for her son.
"It's ok," she whispers. "Just be
gentle."

new catch in my chip Chip Plankton II viii

"Honey, did you 
take out the trash?" 
Karen called out 
to the living room. 
The only reply was 
the distant sound 
of the TV playing 
a sitcom laugh track. 
She sighed.

Going into the 
living room, Karen 
found her husband, 
Plankton, sprawled 
out on the couch, 
snoring lightly.

The TV's blue light 
flickered over his face. She looked 
around the room, 
the piles of laundry, 
the dusty bookshelves, 
and the half-eaten 
sandwich on the 
coffee table. It was 
a mess, but she knew 
better than to wake him.

Plankton had been 
working long hours 
at the chum factory 
lately, trying to 
make ends meet. His 
snoring grew louder, 
and she felt a 
wave of affection 
mixed with concern.

Gently, she covered 
his legs with a blanket 
and bent to kiss 
his forehead.
He stirred slightly 
but didn't wake up.

In the kitchen, 
Karen grabbed a 
cup of coffee, 
the warmth and 
aroma grounding her 
for the evening ahead. 
The fridge hummed 
a low lullaby, 
reminding her of 
the chores left to do.

The sink was full 
of dirty dishes, 
remnants of dinner.
A pot with half-eaten 
chum congealed 
on the stovetop.

Karen rolled up 
her sleeves, 
determined to tackle 
the chaos. She knew 
Plankton was 
exhausted from work.

The clanking of 
pots and pans 
echoed through the 
tiny kitchen as she 
washed and sorted, 
her mind racing with 
thoughts of their future.

A knock at the door 
startled her. She dried 
her hands on a towel, 
leaving wet spots like 
tears on the fabric.

It was Hanna, her 
best friend since high 
school.

Karen had not seen 
Hanna in weeks, and 
the sight of her brought 
a smile. Hanna 
was a burst of energy.

"Hi, Karen! How's it 
going?" Hanna's voice 
was a mix of sweetness 
and the sharpness of 
someone who had seen 
too much of the world.

She scanned 
the room, taking 
in the clutter, the 
stale smell of 
overworked air, and 
Plankton's snoring.

"Hey, Hanna," Karen 
managed, her voice 
soft to not disturb 
his sleep. "It's been 
a bit hectic, but we're 
making do."

Hanna stepped in, 
eyeing the mess 
sympathetically. "Looks 
like you could use a 
hand," she said, already 
grabbing a dish towel.

Karen's smile grew.
"You read my mind. Thanks."

Hanna tossed the 
towel over her shoulder, 
ready to jump into 
the fray. "You know me,"
she said with a wink. "I've 
never been one to shy 
away from a mess."

The two of them worked 
side by side, the rhythm 
of their movements 
harmonizing as they 
cleared the kitchen. Karen
felt the tension in her 
shoulders begin to ease 
as Hanna filled the room 
with stories of her latest 
adventures, a welcome 
distraction from the 
monotony of chores.

As the last plate was 
put away, the fridge 
closed with a satisfying 
click, Karen leaned against 
the counter. Hanna looked 
at her.
"You've been carrying 
a lot, haven't you?" she 
asked, her voice gentle.

Karen nodded, her eyes 
welling up. "It's just 
that with Plankton's job, 
and the bills..."

Hanna pulled her into 
a tight hug. "I know, 
sweetie. You're doing 
the best you can."

They sat down in the 
living room, the clean 
kitchen a testament to 
their friendship's strength. 
Hanna's screen searched 
Karen's for 
a sign of the spark 
that used to be there.

"I can't remember 
the last time we 
went out together," 
Hanna said. "You two 
deserve a break."

Karen's screen lit up 
at the suggestion, but 
quickly dimmed. "We can't 
afford it," she said, 
sighing. "Not with the 
overtime Plankton's 
been doing."

Hanna leaned in, a 
mischievous glint in 
her eye. "Well, I might 
have a little surprise 
for you," she said.

Karen looked up, 
curiosity piqued. "What do 
you mean?"

Hanna pulled out a 
small envelope from 
her pocket and 
handed it to her friend. 
"A gift," she said with 
a sly smile. "A check
from my winning 
lottery ticket."

Karen's eyes widened 
as she opened the 
envelope. "Hanna, no!"
she protested. "You can't
just give us your 
winnings!"

Hanna's smile didn't 
waver. "I can, and I 
want to. You've been 
there for me through 
everything. It's about 
time I returned the favor.
Besides," she said with 
a wink, "what's a 
little chum between 
friends?"

Karen's hands trembled 
as she read the check.
It was more than enough 
to cover their rent and 
bills for several months. 
Tears slipped down 
her cheeks, and she 
hugged Hanna tightly. 
"Thank you," she whispered.

The weight of financial 
stress lifted slightly 
from her shoulders, 
replaced by a warmth 
that spread through 
her chest. For a moment, 
the world didn't seem 
so overwhelming.

Hanna pulled back, her 
own eyes shining with 
unshed tears. "Now, 
don't spend it all in one 
place," she teased.

Karen laughed, the 
sound small but genuine. 
"I won't," she promised, 
the check clutched in 
her hand. "We'll use it 
wisely."

The two of them sat 
quietly for a while, 
enjoying the rare moment 
of peace. The TV had 
switched to the news, 
and the low murmur of 
the anchor's voice filled 
the room. Plankton's 
snoring had become a 
comforting white noise.

Hanna looked at 
Plankton, her expression 
thoughtful. "You know, 
I've always admired 
the way you take care 
of him," she said. "It can't 
be easy."

Karen nodded, her 
thumb tracing the 
edges of the check. "It's 
not," she admitted. "But 
he's my Plankton. I love 
him, even when he's 
exhausting."

Her gaze drifted to 
the sleeping form of 
her husband. Plankton's 
snores grew more even, 
his face finally relaxed.
The lines of stress that 
usually pinched his 
features had smoothed 
out in sleep.

Karen knew that 
Plankton had always 
dreamed of more than 
his life at the chum 
factory could offer. 
He was a man of ambition, 
his spirit too large for 
the cramped quarters 
they called home.

Her thoughts turned 
to the gift from Hanna. 
The check represented 
more than just money; 
it was a beacon of hope 
that maybe, just maybe, 
they could finally start 
working towards those 
dreams.

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

JUST A TOUCH viii
(Autistic author)


After dinner, they
retreat to the living room.
Plankton's eye is glued
to the puzzle book on the
coffee table, his antennae
twitching with unspoken
longing. Karen picks it up,
opening to a new page.

"Would you like to work
on this one together?"
she asks, her voice gentle.
He nods, his eye lighting
up with the familiar challenge.

Together, they tackle the
puzzle, Karen's voice a gentle
narration as Plankton's antennae
move in time with her words.

The patterns on the page
hypnotize him, drawing him in.
Plankton's antennae stop
twitching, his focus solely
on the words before him.

And then the doorbell rings,
breaking the spell. Karen's
heart skips a beat, her hand
tightening around the puzzle
book. Plankton's head snaps up,
his eye wide with alarm. "Who
is it?" he asks, his voice
sharp.

Karen's eyes dart to the clock.
"It's probably SpongeBob,"
she murmurs. Plankton's antennae
perk up at the mention of his
friend's name. "Party," he says,
his voice hopeful. Karen nods,
swiping at the tear that's
managed to escape. "Yes, Plankton.
SpongeBob's probably here
to invite us to a party at the
Krusty Krab. Do you
think you're up for it?" she asks,
her voice tentative.

Plankton's antennae droop
slightly. "Maybe," he says,
his voice unsure. The thought
of the bright lights and loud
noises at the party sends a
shiver of anxiety through
his tiny body. But the
prospect of seeing Sponge
Bob is tempting.

Karen sighs, understanding
his hesitation. She walks
to the door, her movements
slow and deliberate. Sponge
Bob's cheerful greeting floods
the hallway. "Hey,
Karen! Plankton! You guys
coming to the party?"

"Hey, Sponge Bob," she says,
her smile forced. "What's the
occasion?"

Sponge Bob's face lights up
like a Christmas tree, his
spongy body bobbing with
excitement. "Mr. Krabs is
throwing a bash at the
Krusty Krab!" he says, his
hands gesturing wildly. "You
guys are coming, right?"

Plankton's antennae quiver
at the mention of the party.
The thought of the loud
noises and the jostling
crowd makes his stomach
churn, but the prospect of
seeing his friend shines like
a beacon through the fog
of his fear.

Karen watches him,
reading his emotions like
a book. "It's okay," she says,
her voice a gentle reminder.
"We can go for a little bit."

Plankton nods, his antennae
still. "Okay," he says, his voice
barely a whisper. Karen can
see the internal struggle
playing out across his features.
"Just stay as long as you're
comfortable," she adds. "I'll
just stay, you go with him."

Sponge Bob's eyes light up.
"Great!" he says, bending
down to hold his hand. He
holds his finger as they go.

Plankton's grip is tight,
his antennae flat against
his head. The noise of the
Krusty Krab is a cacophony
of sounds, each one
stabbing at his heightened
senses. But the warmth of
Sponge Bob's hand, the
familiarity of their friendship,
anchors him.

Mr. Krabs sees Plankton
clinging to Sponge Bob's 
side.

"What's going on, laddie?"
he asks, his voice gruff but
concerned at the sight of
their hands.

Plankton's antennae
twitch, his gaze darting
to the floor. Mr. Krabs' 
eyes narrow.

"Why did ye invite
Plankton?" he asks
with suspicion.

Sponge Bob's smile
doesn't waver. "Well,
he's always welcome..."

Mr. Krabs' eyes narrow.
"But he's our enemy.."

Sponge Bob's smile
doesn't waver. "He's my friend,"
he says firmly. "And I'm watching
to make sure he won't steal any
thing, boss.."

Mr. Krabs' eyes soften,
his suspicion giving way to
reluctant acceptance. "Alright,
but keep an eye on him," he says,
his voice gruff.

Sponge Bob nods, his grip
on Plankton's hand tightening.
Plankton's antennae quiver,
his heart racing at the sudden
influx of stimulation. The
colorful lights, the smells of
frying food, the laughter of
the patrons—it's all so
much. But Sponge Bob's hand is
warm, a lifeline in the chaos.

They move through the
crowd, Plankton's steps small and
careful. His eye darts around,
trying to take it all in without
getting overwhelmed. Sponge
Bob's voice cuts through the
noise like a knife. "You okay,
buddy?" he asks, his smile
concerned. Plankton nods, his
voice a strained whisper. "Good,"
Sponge Bob says, his eyes never
leaving Plankton's.

As they reach the party
area, Plankton's antennae start to
wave erratically. The lights
are too bright, the sounds too
loud. He clutches Sponge
Bob's hand tighter. 
Plankton takes a deep breath,
his chest expanding with the
effort. It's like trying to
swim through jello, his senses
on high alert.

Sponge Bob feels the
change in his friend's grip,
his own heart racing with
concern. "You okay, Plankton?"
he asks again, his voice
barely audible over the din.
Plankton nods, his eye
focused on the floor. The
pattern of the tiles is
soothing, grounding him amidst
the chaos.

A flash of pink darts
through the crowd, and Plankton's
antennas twitch. "Patrick!"
Sponge Bob says, letting go
of Plankton's hand.

Plankton looks around and
sees Squidward doing the
dishes, but in a disorganized
manner that Plankton needs
to correct.

The sight of the
scattered plates, the water spots
on the glasses, sends a jolt of
anxiety through him. His
compulsion to straighten, to
organize, to make it right, is
almost unbearable. So he goes
to Squidward by the sink to interfere.

Squidward glances up, his
tentacles frozen mid-wash. "What
are you doing here?" he snaps.

Plankton's antennae twitch,
his gaze fixated on the mess.
"Help," he says, his voice tight.

Squidward rolls his eyes, grabbing
another plate to wash as he ignores
Plankton.

Plankton's antennae quiver, his
eye darting between the chaos
and Squidward's dismissal. He's
doing the dishes wrong and needs
him to help!

"Squidward, let Plankton assist,"
he says, his voice formal.
Squidward sighs, shaking his
head.

"Look, I don't have time for
this," he says, his tentacles
moving rapidly. Plankton's
body tenses, his need for
meticulousness consuming him.

As Plankton approaches Squidward,
his movements are precise, almost
mechanical. His antennae twitch
in time with his racing thoughts,
his need for order a silent
scream in the noisy room. He
holds out his hand, palm up.
"Wash," he says, his voice firm.
Squidward pauses, eyeing him
warily. "What?"

Plankton's gaze is unwavering,
his voice steady. "Smudges.
Wash dishes. Correct way."

Squidward's grip on the plate
slackens, his eyes narrowing.
"What do you mean?"

Plankton's antennae wave
frantically. "Correct way,"
he repeats, his voice a
desperate whisper. "No smudges.
Wrong order."

Squidward's tentacles still,
his gaze sharpening. "What's
gotten into you?" he asks, his voice
filled with skepticism.

Plankton's antennae twitch.
"No smudges," he says again,
his voice a mix of urgency and
desperation. Squidward sets
the plate down with a clatter.
"What are you on about, Plankton?"

But Plankton's focus is solely
on the task at hand. He reaches
for the dish soap, his movements
precise.

Squidward watches him, his
expression a mix of annoyance
and curiosity. "What's going on?"
he asks, his voice gruff. Plankton's
antennas twitch, his eye darting
to Squidward. "Just helping,"
he says, his voice flat as he puts
the now clean dish away. But he
sees imperfections on some of the
clean dishes, handing them over
for Squidward to wash as he straightens
up the other plates.

Squidward's eyebrows furrow,
his gaze flicking between Plankton
and the dishes. "What are you
doing?" he asks again. Plankton's
grip on the towel tightens, his
body vibrating with the need for
perfection. "It's not right,"
he says, his voice strained. "Has to be
right."

"Those I've cleaned!" Squidward
says as Plankton puts them in
the sink for him to wash over
again. "Squidward look. No..."

But before Plankton can
finish, Squidward snatches the plate
from his tentacles. "Look, I don't
have time for your... whatever
this is," he says, his voice gruff. He
takes it and haphazardly shoves
it with smaller plates. Plankton
can't take the misalignment!

Plankton's antennae stand on
end, his eye wide with horror.
"No!" he says, his voice rising.
"Wrong order!" His hands
shake as he tries to grab the
plate, his mind racing with
the need to correct the mistake.

Squidward pulls away, his
expression a mix of confusion
and irritation. "Plankton, what's
wrong with you?" he snaps.

"Plankton's centrum semiovale has
restricted inhibitory synaptic
transmission!" Plankton's
voice is a mix of panic and
frustration, his antennae waving
wildly. Squidward's eyes narrow,
his grip on the plate tightening.
"What are you talking about? I
am not going to wash this again,"
he says, his tone firm.

Squidward's words hit a nerve,
triggering a cascade of emotions
in Plankton. "It's not
about Squidward!" he says, his voice
sharp. "It's about the order! Cleanliness..."

"PLANKTON I SAID NO!" Squidward
yells, startling him as he turns back
to the sink.

new just a touch neurodisability viii

GREAT CHIP viii
(Autistic author)

When Plankton finally came out
Chip approached with caution. He didn't want to scare
his dad, didn't want to cause another seizure.
"Hey, Dad," he said softly. "How are
you feeling today?"

Plankton's antennae twitched, his eye
flicking towards Chip. "Tired," he murmured,
his voice hoarse from sleep. "But okay."

Chip felt his chest tighten with relief.
He'd been worried about his dad all night,
scared that another seizure would strike 
without warning.

"Can we talk?" Chip asked, his voice
gentle as he approached Plankton.
He didn't want to push, but he needed
to make sure they were okay.

Plankton's antennae twitched, his
eye searching Chip's face. "Of course,"
he said, his voice still groggy.
He sat down at the kitchen table,
his body language open but cautious.

Chip took a deep breath, his heart
racing with the need to get this right.
"Dad, I know last night was...
scary," he began, his voice shaky.
"But I want to be there for you."

Plankton's antennae waved slightly,
his expression a mix of confusion and
fatigue. "What do you mean?" he asked,
his voice still thick with sleep.

Chip took a deep breath, trying
to find the right words. "I mean,
I want to understand your seizures
and what you go through," he said,
his eyes never leaving his father's.
"So that maybe I can help."

Plankton's antennae stilled, his eye
narrowing slightly. "What do you want
to know?" he asked, his voice a mix
of curiosity and caution.

Chip's eyes searched his father's,
his thoughts racing. "Everything," he said,
his voice earnest. "What happens
before, during, and after. What you feel,
what you see..."

Plankton's antennae twitched, his
face scrunching up slightly. "Why?"
he snapped, his voice sharp. "What's
the point of reliving it?"

Chip took a step back, surprised
by his father's sudden irritation.
"I just want to understand,"
he said, his voice tentative.

Plankton's antennae waved erratically,
his eye flashing. "It's not a show, Chip,"
he snapped. "It's not something to be
poked and prodded at."

Chip felt his cheeks flush with heat,
his hands balled into fists at his sides.
"I'm not trying to pry," he said, his voice
shaking with frustration. "I just want to help!"

Plankton's antennae quivered, his eye
narrowed. "You can't help," he said,
his voice cold. "You don't get it."

Chip's heart sank, feeling the distance
between them growing wider. "But Dad,"
he began, his voice trembling. "I'm trying."

Plankton's antennae twitched rapidly,
his face a mask of agitation. "You can't,"
he said, his voice clipped. "You don't know
what it's like!"

Chip felt a wave of frustration
crash over him, his hands
clenching into fists. "That's why
I'm asking!" he exclaimed. "I'm not
trying to make it about me!"

Plankton's focusing solely on Chip.
"You don't get it," he said, his voice
softening slightly. "It's not about you,
but it's also not something you can fix."

Chip's eyes searched his dad's,
his heart racing with a mix of anger
and hurt. He knew Plankton wasn't
trying to be cruel, but the words stung.
"I just want to be there for you,"
he said, his voice shaky. "To make
sure you're okay."

Plankton's antennae twitched rapidly,
his eye flashing with agitation. "I don't
need you to fix me," he snapped, his voice
sharp as a knife. "I just need you to leave me
alone sometimes."

Chip took a step back, his eyes
watering with the sting of his father's
words. "I just want..."

"I know what you want," Plankton cut
in, his antennae vibrating with irritation.
"But you can't fix this, Chip. It's not a puzzle
you can solve with a pat on the back or a hug."

The room grew tense, the air thick
with unspoken words. Chip felt his throat
tighten, his eyes stinging with unshed tears.
He knew his father's snappy tone was a defense
mechanism, a way to keep the world at bay
when it all became too much. But it still hurt.

new great chip arguecore viii

GREAT CHIP ii
(Autistic author)

After what feels like
an eternity, Plankton's eye 
slowly refocus. His body
twitches, then relaxes. 
He blinks, looking around 
the room as if seeing it 
for the first time.
Karen moves closer,
her hand on his shoulder.
"Welcome back," she says 
soothingly. Plankton looks up, 
seeing Chip in the doorway, 
his eyes full of questions.
"What..." Plankton asks, 
his voice groggy.

Chip takes a step forward,
his heart racing.
"It's okay, Dad," he says,
his voice barely 
above a whisper.
Plankton blinks again,
his gaze sharpening.

He looks at Karen.
"I had one of my moments,
didn't I?" His voice is tinged with 
self-consciousness.

Karen nods, her eyes full of love
and understanding. "Yes, you did."

Plankton's gaze shifts to Chip,
his vulnerability laid bare
for his son to see.

Chip steps closer, unsure
of what to do with his hands,
his eyes searching his dad's.

"Are you okay?" Chip asks,
his voice tentative. "I just
got h..."

"Yes," Plankton cuts him off,
his tone brisk, "I'm fine, ok?" 
There's a hint of annoyance
in his voice, as if the seizure is an
inconvenience, something to be pushed aside
quickly and forgotten. Chip's heart
squeezes at the sight. "Dad, ca..."

"I said I'm okay," Plankton repeats,
his voice a little sharper this time.
There's a defensiveness
in his tone that Chip's never
heard before.

Chip flinches. But he's still
confused, and his curiosity 
won't quit. "But why do..."

"I don't want to talk about it,
I told you what to know," 
Plankton snaps,
his voice abrupt and final.
"So just drop it!"

Chip's eyes fill with tears,
his curiosity colliding
with his dad's discomfort.
He's never seen Plankton
so agitated before.
"Dad I'm so..."

"I said I'm okay!" Plankton
says. "So JUST STOP ASKING!"

Chip's eyes well with tears.
He didn't mean to upset him,
he just wanted to understand.

Karen steps in, placing a comforting
hand on Chip's shoulder. "Why don't
you go to your room for a bit, honey?"

"Ok," Chip says, but he ends
up accidentally touching his
dad when he stands up to go,
brushing against Plankton. And
that makes him even angrier..

Plankton jolts away, his face
twisting into a grimace. "I said
not to touch me!" The room goes
deathly quiet. Karen's eyes widen,
and she opens her mouth to say
something, but Plankton's not done
with Chip.

"Why can't you just leave me
alone?" he yells, his voice echoing
off the walls. "I can't even have
a moment without you pestering me!
YOU'RE the one who's not okay! YOU'RE
JUST A KID, CHIP; I NEVER WANT
YOU TO EVER THINK ABOUT THIS AGAIN!"

Chip's eyes widen, his face flushing
with a mix of fear and sadness.
He didn't know his dad could be so mad.
He turns and runs to his room,
slamming the door behind him.

Karen sighs heavily.
This isn't how she wanted
Chip to learn about Plankton's condition.
She knows her husband's frustration
is a defense mechanism, a way
for him to cope with his own fears.
But it doesn't make it any easier
for Chip to understand.

Plankton's eye follows Chip
as he runs off, his own
expression a mix 
of anger and upset.
He didn't like to scream,
but the sensory overload
from the seizure had left him
on edge, his emotions raw.

His son didn't mean any harm,
but the sudden contact 
had been too much.
His skin feels like it's buzzing,
his mind racing with the echoes 
of his own voice.

Plankton sighs. He doesn't like
his son to see him like this,
so vulnerable and out of control.

Karen never liked to see
Plankton upset. She knew
to tread carefully with him
when he's so explosive, as
he's now breathing heavily.

"Plankton," she starts gently,
"Chip didn't mean to upset you.
He's just trying to understand."
But Plankton's still tense, not
replying to her.

Karen saw the frustration and
wanted to try again, not knowing
if he understood what she said.
She inched closer to him cautiously.

Plankton's eye darted around
the room, avoiding hers. He knew
his reaction was too much, but
his senses were still screaming.
He felt like a failure, unable
to control his own body.

Karen waited patiently, giving
Plankton the space he needed.
Her hand hovered near his arm,
ready to offer comfort, but she
knew better than to touch him now.

Plankton's shoulders slumped
as the reality of the situation
sank in. He had always tried
so hard to hide his seizures
from Chip, not wanting to burden him.
But now the secret was out, and
his son had witnessed his most
vulnerable moment.

He felt a twinge of guilt,
knowing he had snapped at Chip.
It was his way of protecting
his own pride.

Plankton took a deep breath,
his heart thumping in his chest.
He didn't want his son to see him
as weak or broken.

Karen's hand remained hovering,
a silent offering of comfort.
He knew she understood,
but he didn't want her defending
Chip either.

Plankton's mind raced,
his heart still pounding.
He felt exposed,
his secret laid bare
for his son to see.

The room was suffocating,
his thoughts a tornado.
He didn't want Chip to think
less of him, to see him as damaged.

Plankton took another deep breath,
his eye focusing on
anything but Karen's concerned gaze.
He felt a knot in his stomach,
his chest tight, both of which can in
themselves cause an overload on
their own. But Karen didn't realize
when she reached out to touch
his shoulder..

The touch was light, almost imperceptible,
but to Plankton, it was like a bomb had
detonated in his sensory system.
He jolted away, his eye wide with panic.

"Sorry," Karen murmured,
quickly retracting her hand.
She knew better than to push
when he was like this.

Plankton nodded, his breathing
steadying slightly. "It's okay,"
he managed to say, his voice
still tight. "I know you're trying."

Karen sat down next to him,
her hand resting on the couch
between them, a silent bridge
of support. "We'll talk to Chip
together, when you're ready."

Plankton nodded, his eye
still avoiding hers.

In the quiet, Plankton felt his
self-consciousness grow. He didn't
want Chip to see him this way, to think
less of him. It was something he'd
managed to hide for so long, his
autism, his moments of overload.
Now, it was out in the open,
and he felt like a creature
exposed to the elements.

The room felt too warm, too bright,
each sound amplified. He knew
his reaction was extreme, but
his mind couldn't help it. The effort
it took to appear 'normal' was
like swimming against a riptide,
and now the current had dragged him
under. He could see the worry in
Karen's screen, the sadness that he'd
lashed out at Chip.

He took a deep breath, trying
to regain his composure. He didn't
want Chip to think he didn't care,
that he didn't want to be there for him.
He just couldn't handle the touch,
not now. Not with his senses still
in overdrive.

Karen knew that look,
the one of internal battle.

"Why don't we go talk to him?"
she suggested, her voice soft.

Plankton nodded, pushing himself
out of the chair. His legs felt
like jelly, his heart racing.
He took a moment to gather
his thoughts before opening
the door to Chip's room.

new great chip chipcore ii

CHIP AND FAIL viii
(Autistic author)

Karen's hand was a lifeline,
her voice a gentle guide. "Chip,"
she called out.
"We need to talk."

Chip stopped in the hallway. 
Why was Dad acting so
weird? He turned to face his
mother, his eyes brimming with
unshed tears. "What's wrong with
him?" he demanded, his voice
filled with accusation. "He doesn't
deserve to be called my dad if
he can't even..."
But that's when it happens.
That's when Plankton started
hyperventilating, and that's
when Plankton can't take
anymore.
That's when it happened.
Chip's words were like a match
striking too close to a powder keg.
Plankton's breath hitched, his antennae
twitching erratically. Karen rushed to
his side, her screen wide with concern.
"Babe, you okay?" she asked, her voice
a gentle caress. She holds her arms
out to catch Plankton.

But Plankton's mind was a
whirlwind, his body a live wire.
He couldn't answer, couldn't find
the words to explain the chaos
that was his reality. His antennae
trembled as he struggled to
breathe, his body rigid with fear.
He had hoped to keep this
hidden, to protect Chip from the
truth, but it was too much.
The storm inside him grew
wilder, each breath a battle.

Chip's eyes searched his
father's, his own confusion
mirroring the chaos in the
room. "What's wrong with you?"
he repeated, his voice a mix of anger
and desperation.

But Plankton's mind was a tornado,
his thoughts swirling too fast
for words. He could feel his chest
constrict, his heart pounding
like a drum.

Karen watched her son's screen,
seeing the hurt in his eyes, the
misunderstanding etched
deep. She took a deep breath,
knowing the moment had arrived.
"Chip," she began, her voice
soft but firm, "there's something
you need to know about your dad."

Chip looked at her, his expression
a mix of anger and confusion. "What
could possibly make him act like
this?" he spat, poking Plankton hard. "Why
did you marry him? He's just nothing but..."

"Chip," Karen said firmly, taking his
hands in hers, when Plankton
starts to wheeze heavily, his body
constricting with each shallow breath.

Chip's anger faded, replaced with
fear as he watched his father's
distress. "Dad?" he whispered,
his voice shaking.

Plankton's body trembled as his
legs gave out, collapsing into the
embrace Karen had been ready to offer.

"Dad?" Chip's voice was barely
above a whisper, his eyes wide
with fear and confusion. He had
never seen his father so
overwhelmed, so vulnerable.

Karen knelt beside Plankton, her
hands gentle on his trembling
body. "It's okay, love," she
whispered, her voice a salve
on his raw nerves. "Just breathe."

Chip's eyes were glued to his
father with fear. He had never seen him
like this before, his body a
stranger's under his own touch.
"What's wrong with him?" he asked
again, his voice shaking.

Karen took a deep breath, her
hands trembling as she smoothed
back Plankton's antennae. "Chip, your
dad was born with something..."
Her voice trailed off, the words
stuck in her throat like a piece
of unchewed food.

Chip's eyes searched hers, his
confusion a storm cloud
gathering. "What do you mean?"
he asked, his voice small and
scared.

Karen took a deep breath, her
heart aching for both her son
and her husband. "Your dad," she
began, her voice shaking with
the weight of her words, "was born
different, Chip." Plankton's
eye flickered open, filled with a
mixture of fear and hope.

"What do you mean, 'different'?"
Chip asked, his voice small and
scared. He had never heard his
mother talk about his dad this
way before.

Karen took a deep breath,
swallowing the lump in her
throat. "When your dad was born,
Chip," she began, her screen
filled with a sadness that
threatened to spill over, "his brain
was injured during delivery. When
the doctors pulled him out, they
didn't realize how fragile he was
and they..." Her voice trailed off,
the memory too painful to
recount. "They had to get him out
and applied too much force on his
head, which caused some damage.
It gave him a type of condition, where
he's on what's called autism spectrum."

Chip's eyes widened, his grip on
his shirt tightening. "But that's
not his fault, right?" he asked, his
voice a hopeful whisper. He didn't
want to think of his dad as
damaged or broken.

Karen nodded, her screen filled
with love for both her husband and
her son. "No, honey, it's not his
fault," she said, her voice steady.
"It's just how he's. And
it's not something you can see or
touch. It's like having a radio in
your head that's always tuned to the
loudest station, and sometimes
the static gets too much."

new chip and fail Chip Plankton II Sheldon J. Plankton & Chip Plankton II Karen/Chip Plankton II viii

CHIP OFF THE OLD TALKS viii

(Autistic Author)


They sit in silence for a few moments, 
the sound of Plankton's slowing breaths 
filling the space. Karen's mind races with 
the conversation they need to have with 
Chip.

"How do we explain it?" Plankton asks, 
finally breaking the silence. His 
antennae still, his eye looking at the 
floor.

"We tell him the truth," Karen says firmly. 
"But we also remind him of all the 
wonderful things you do for him, all the 
ways you show him love."

Plankton sighs, his antennae drooping 
further. "I know I'm not the dad he 
deserves," he murmurs.

Karen's voice is firm, but filled with 
warmth. "You are the dad he needs," 
she corrects. "And we'll get through this 
together."

Finally, Plankton's 
antennae perk up slightly. "I'm sorry," he 
says again, his voice still thick with 
emotion.

Karen nods. "I know," she says softly. 
"But we can't keep hiding this from him. 
He needs to understand."

Plankton sighs, his antennae drooping. 
"I know," he admits. "I just don't know 
where to start."

Karen gives his hand a gentle squeeze. 
"We'll start by talking to him," she says, 
her voice strong and reassuring. "When 
you're ready."

They sit there for a while longer, the 
rhythm of Plankton's breathing slowly 
returning to normal. Karen's mind is 
racing with thoughts of how to navigate this 
chapter in their lives. How to help Chip 
understand his father's condition without scaring 
him or making him feel responsible.

Finally, Plankton turns to her, his antennae still shaky. 
"What do we do now?" he asks, his voice a mix of exhaustion and fear.

Karen takes a deep breath, her eyes filled with resolve. 
"First," she says, "we make sure you're ok."

They sit there, the only sound in the room the distant 
hum of the TV. Plankton's antennae are still, his eye 
focused on the floor. Karen's hand remains on his 
back, a silent promise that she's there for him.

"Let's get you to bed," she says softly. "You need to rest."

With her help, Plankton stands, his legs wobbly from 
the intense episode. Together, they make their way 
to their bedroom, the quiet of the house a stark 
contrast to the emotional upheaval they've just 
experienced.

Once Plankton is tucked into bed, Karen sits beside 
him, her hand resting on his arm. "We'll get through 
this," she says, her voice a gentle reassurance in the 
stillness. "We're a family."

Plankton's antennae twitch with a hint of doubt, and 
he looks up at her, his eye searching hers for 
understanding. "But what if I can't?"

Karen's gaze is unwavering. "You can," she says 
firmly. "You're strong, Plankton. And we're here to 
help you."

Plankton's antennae quiver, and he nods slowly. 
"Ok," he whispers. "Ok."

Karen leans in, kissing his forehead. "Rest," she 
says. "We'll talk more tomorrow."

With a nod, Plankton closes his eye, and Karen slips 
out of the room, leaving the door open a crack. She 
heads to Chip's room, heavy with the weight of the 
conversation they need to have.

Chip is lying on his bed, his small form wrapped in a 
blanket, staring at the ceiling. His eyes are red, and 
he looks up as Karen enters.

"Hey, buddy," she says softly, sitting beside him. 
"Can we talk?"

Chip nods, his eyes still wet with tears. "What's 
wrong with Daddy?" he asks, his voice shaky.

Karen takes a deep breath, choosing her words 
carefully. "Daddy has something called Autism, 
sweetie," she says, her voice gentle. "It makes his 
brain work a bit differently from ours. Sometimes, 
when he's really upset or overwhelmed, his body can 
react in ways that might seem strange or scary."

Chip's eyes are wide with curiosity, and he nods 
slowly. "Is that why he gets so mad?" he asks.

Karen takes a moment before responding. "Sometimes, yes," 
she says. "It's his way of dealing 
with big feelings. But it's not because he's mad at you, ok?"

Chip nods, his eyes searching hers for reassurance. 
"But why does he get so mad?" he asks again, his 
voice quivering.

Karen sighs, her hand stroking him. "Daddy gets 
overwhelmed by his feelings, and it's hard for him to 
express them," she explains. "Sometimes, when he 
can't find the right words or when things get too 
much, he feels like he's going to break apart. That's 
what we call a meltdown."

Chip sniffs, his eyes glued to the ceiling. "It's like 
when I'm really sad and I don't want to talk?"

Karen nods, her heart swelling with love for her son's 
empathy. "Exactly," she says. "And just like you, 
Daddy needs some space when that happens."

Chip looks at her, his eyes serious. "But what if I 
want to show him my affection?"

Karen smiles sadly. "You can, Chip," she says. "Just 
remember to be gentle, and maybe use words or 
gestures that aren't to overwhelming for him."

Chip nods, his eyes still on the ceiling. "But what if I 
make it worse?" he whispers.

Karen's heart clenches at his fear, and she takes his 
hand in hers. "Sometimes, we just need to learn new 
ways to show and receive love."

Chip nods, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. 
"Ok," he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

Karen leans in, placing a soft kiss on his forehead. 
"You're brave," she says, her voice filled with pride.

"But what about the rock he broke?" Chip asks, his 
voice still shaky.

Karen sighs, her eyes meeting his. "Daddy didn't 
mean to scare you," she says. "Sometimes, when 
people are upset, they do things they don't mean to. 
It's part of how they cope."

Chip nods, his grip on her hand tightening. "But 
Dad now," he says again, his voice small.

"We'll give him some time to rest," Karen assures him. 
"And tomorrow, we'll talk about it more."

With that, she tucks the blanket around him and turns 
to leave. As she reaches the door, Chip's voice stops 
her. "Mom," he says, his tone tentative. "Can I go to Daddy?"

Karen's heart skips a beat, and she looks back at 
him, her eyes filled with both concern and hope. "Do 
you think that's a good idea, sweetie?"

Chip nods. "I want to tell him I love him," he says, his 
voice barely above a whisper.

Karen's heart squeezes. "Ok," she says, taking a 
deep breath. "But remember, we need to be gentle 
with him right now. Let's go to his room together."

They tiptoe down the hall, the house eerily quiet. 
Karen can feel Chip's hand in hers, small and warm 
and trembling slightly. When they reach the bedroom, 
she opens the door quietly and peeks in. Plankton is 
lying on his back, his antennae still, his chest rising 
and falling with deep, even breaths.

They approach the bed, and Karen can see the 
tension in Plankton's body, even in sleep. She
whispers to Chip, "Remember, sweetie, just a little. 
And if he wakes up, tell him you love him."

Chip nods solemnly, and together, they tiptoe to the 
bedside. Chip extends a tentative hand and gently 
pats Plankton's arm. Plankton's antennae twitch, but 
he doesn't wake. "I love you, Daddy," Chip whispers, 
his voice quivering.

Karen's eyes fill with tears at the sight of her son's 
bravery and love. She gives Chip's hand a squeeze.
"That was perfect," she says, her voice barely a 
murmur.

They stand there for a moment, watching Plankton's 
chest rise and fall in the dim light of the moon 
peeking through the curtains. Then, with a heavy 
heart, Karen leads Chip back to his room.

Once Chip is tucked in, she kisses his forehead and 
whispers, "You're a brave boy, and I'm so proud of 
you." His eyes, still red and swollen from crying, 
meet hers with a quiet understanding beyond his 
years.

new chip off the old talks neurodivergentcore viii

CATCH IN MY CHIP ii
(Autistic author)

Chip looks at his father with
newfound understanding. He
remembers the way Plankton's
eye would sometimes glaze over
when the TV was too loud or when
the restaurant was too crowded.
He'd always assumed it was just his
dad being tired or grumpy, not that
his brain was struggling to keep up.

"So, what is it?" Chip asks,
his voice small and scared.

Karen takes a deep breath. "It's called
autism, sweetie. And it just means
that Daddy's brain works a little
differently. Sometimes, it's really
good at things, like inventing and
remembering stuff. But sometimes, it
can get overwhelmed by too much
noise or too many people or things."

Chip nods slowly, his eyes never
leaving Plankton's still form. "But why
doesn't he tell me?"

Karen sighs, taking Chip's hand in
hers. "Because he doesn't always
know it's happening until it's too
late. And sometimes, talking about it
can make it harder for him." She looks
up at her son with a gentle smile.
"But now that you know, you can help
him. Like giving him space when
he needs it, or turning down the TV."
Chip nods, his mind racing. He's
always thought his dad was a little
weird, but now he knows it's not just
weirdness. It's something real, something
that makes him who he is. He looks
back at Plankton, feeling a mix of
concern and curiosity.

He goes and touches 
his dad's arm,
his heart racing.
"Dad, wake up," Chip cries,
his hand shaking slightly.

But Karen steps in, placing 
a comforting hand on Chip's 
shoulder. "Let's give him some 
space, okay?"

Chip nods, his eyes never
leaving his dad's still form.
He retreats to the corner 
of the room, clutching his 
newly acquired seashell 
collection tightly to his chest. 
His mind races with questions,
but fear keeps his mouth shut.
He watches as his mom pulls
the curtains, dimming the light
to a gentle glow that seems to
ease the tension in the room.

The quiet is almost deafening
now, the only sound the faint
hum of the Chum Bucket's 
air-conditioning. Chip sits
cross-legged on the floor,
his thoughts a whirlwind of confusion.
He'd always known his dad was
unique, but he didn't realize
it was something so... serious.

Karen sits beside Plankton,
speaking in hushed tones. "It's okay,
dear," she says, stroking his arm.
"Just breathe." Plankton's body
twitches slightly, his eye still
open and unseeing. Chip watches,
wishing he could do something to
help.

He tries to be patient,
his mind racing with questions
about what just happened.
Why couldn't Dad handle his stories
and his energy? Why did he just...
shut down? He'd never seen
anyone react that way before.

Chip's curiosity gets the
better of him, and he tiptoes closer
to the bed, peering over his mom's
shoulder. Plankton's eye is still
staring off into space, and his
breathing is still shallow. "Mom,
what's autism?" He whispers.

Karen glances over at him,
her expression a mix of love
and sadness. "It's a condition
that affects how people process
information, honey," she says, her
voice soft. "Some things that are
easy for you and me, like talking
and being around lots of noise, can
be really hard for Daddy."

Chip's eyes widen with
realization. "So, when I was
sharing all my stories and showing
him my stuff, I was being too loud
and moving too much?"

Karen nods. "Sometimes,
yes. It's like if you were trying
to read a book in the middle
of a rock concert. It's hard to focus."

Chip looks down at his sandy
hands, feeling a pang of guilt.
"I didn't know," he murmurs.

Karen smiles sadly. "It's okay,
Chip. We didn't tell you because
we didn't want you to think of
your dad as different. But now that
you know, you can help us take care of
him."

Chip nods solemnly, watching
his mom gently guide Plankton to
a more comfortable position on the
bed. "How do we help him?"

Karen sighs. "Well, for starters,
we give him some space when
he needs it. And when he's feeling
better, we can talk about it, okay?"

Chip nods, his eyes glued to
his dad's still form. He wants to
help, but he doesn't know how.
He watches as his mom covers
Plankton with a blanket, her movements
gentle and soothing. "What do we
do now?"

Karen looks at him, her expression
full of warmth. "Now, we wait."

new catch in my chip Chip Plankton II ii

CHIP AND THE DILEMMA ii
(Autistic author)

| ᴺᵉᵍᵃᵗⁱᵛⁱᵗʸ ᵂᵃʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ |

Karen's eyes widen, and
she quickly takes in the
situation. She's seen this
before—his meltdowns.
They've become less frequent,
but when they happen, they
hit hard. She turns to Chip,
placing a hand on his
shoulder. "Chip, honey, why don't
you go wash up for dinner?"
Her voice is calm, but firm.

Chip's screen flicked between his
dad and mom, not fully
understanding. "But Dad
said we're doing the solar
system after dinner," he
protests weakly.

Karen gives him a gentle
nudge towards the door. "It's
ok, sweetie. I'll take care of
this. You go ahead."

Reluctantly, Chip
backs out of the room.
He's worried, but he trusts
his mom.

Karen closes the door
behind Chip, turning her
full attention to Plankton.
His breathing is still
erratic, his eye unfocused.

"It's okay," she whispers,
moving closer to him. She's
learned over the years that
proximity can be both a
comfort and a trigger. She
treads carefully.

Plankton flinches at
her approach, but she's
quick to respond, retreating
slightly. She knows better
than to push to hard.

"You're having a hard time,"
she says softly, her voice
soothing. "Do you want me
to turn off the light?"

Plankton nods, his eye
squeezed shut. The dimness
of the room helps, but the
noise of Chip's retreating
footsteps echoes like thunder.
Karen moves to the window,
drawing the curtains to block
the setting sun, plunging the
room into a comforting
gloom. She sits down next to
Plankton, not touching him,
but close enough to be there.
He takes a shaky breath.

"Talk to me, love," Karen
coaxes. "What triggered it?"

Plankton's eye are still
closed, but his breathing
steadies. "Chip," he
manages. "Chip's touch. It was
too much."

Karen nods. She's always been
his rock, but she hates
seeing him like this. She
knows the stress of hiding
his autism has taken a toll on
him. "We should tell him,"
she says gently. "He's old
enough to understand."

Plankton's eye flies open,
his panic rising again. "No,"
he says firmly. "He doesn't
need to know."

Karen sighs, stroking his
back gently. "He deserves to
know, Plankton. He loves
you and he's worried about
you."

Plankton's body relaxes a
little, the sound of Karen's
voice like a balm to his
frayed nerves. "I know,"
he admits.

Karen nods, understanding
the fear behind his words.
"But think about it," she says.
"He's going to notice
things. It's better if we
explain it to him on our
terms, rather than him
figuring conclusions and feeling
alone or scared."

Plankton looks at
Karen, his expression a mix
of fear and resignation.

"Perhaps when the ringing
in my ears dwindles," he says, his
voice shaking. "I know, we can't keep
it from him forever."

Karen nods, her screen filled
with empathy. "Whenever you're
ready," she says. "We'll do it
together."

Plankton takes a deep
breath, his mind racing with
thoughts of how to explain
his condition to Chip. He
knows it won't be easy, but
his son deserves the truth.

Dinner is a subdued affair,
both Chip and Karen watching
Plankton closely, noticing
his lack of appetite and the
faraway look in his eye.
Chip keeps his questions to
himself, sensing his dad's
discomfort. After dinner, Karen
breaks the silence.

"Chip, why don’t we all go to
your room?" she suggests,
trying to keep her voice
light.

Chip nods, leading the way
as Plankton follows, his steps
slow and measured. Karen
can feel the tension in his
body as he tries to keep
his composure.

Once in Chip's room,
Plankton sits on the edge of
his bed, looking around.

Chip notices the
uncharacteristic stillness in
his father's posture, the
way his antennae droop slightly.

"What's going on?" he asks,
his voice a mix of confusion
and concern.

Karen sits beside Plankton,
her hand resting gently on his.
"Chip, your dad has something
important to tell you."

Chip looks at them both, his
screen wide. "What is it?"

Plankton takes a deep breath.
"Chip," he starts, his voice
shaking slightly. "There's
something you should know
about me." Chip looks
between his mom and dad. "What
is it?" he asks, his voice
barely above a whisper.

Plankton takes a moment,
his eye scanning the room
as if searching for the right
words. "I'm... different, Chip,"
he finally says, his gaze
locking onto Chip's. "I have a
condition, called..."

“Oh, Dad! Will get better?”
Chip asks. “It’s gonna go
away, right?”
Plankton’s eye fills with
sorrow as he shakes his
head. “No, Chip, it doesn’t..."

But before he can finish,
Chip gasps. 

“It’s called autism, Chip,”
Karen says gently, filling the
silence.

Chip frowns, his mind racing.
“What’s that?” He’s heard the
word before, but it’s always
been in whispers or as a
punchline in a joke at school.
He doesn’t understand.

Plankton sighs heavily. "It's
a... the way my brain works,"
he explains, his antennae
twitching with nerves. "It's like
I experience the world through a
different way than you do."

Chip's eyes widen, his mind
swirling with questions. "So,
you're like... broken?" he asks,
his voice filled with innocent
concern.

Plankton flinches at the
word, his heart sinking. He's
always feared this moment,
wondered how his son would react.
"No, Chip," he says, trying to
keep his voice steady. "It's not
like that. Autism is just part of
who I am."

But Chip's mind is racing. "You,
you're like... not normal?" He
can't hide the worry in his tone.

Plankton's eye flickers with
pain at the question, but
he nods. "It's just a
different way of 
things, buddy! It doesn't
make me less..."

But Chip's mind is already
made up. "So you can't be
fixed?" he blurts out, his
tone filled with disappointment.

Plankton's antennae droop. "There's
nothing to fix," Karen says,
interrupting gently. "Different,
not broken. Autism is just a
part of who your father is."

But Chip can't shake the
word from his mind. "Autistic."
He's heard it before in
whispers at school, thrown
around like an insult. He looks
at Plankton, his hero, his
rock. But the damage is done.
In Chip's gaze, his dad is no
longer just quirky or unique—
he's broken, like a toy that's
missing a piece.

"Chip," Karen says gently,
"autism isn't something that
can be fixed or taken
away. It's part of who your
dad is, and it's what makes
him special."

Chip looks at his
mother, his expression
confused. "But if he's
different, doesn't that mean
he's not as good?"

Karen's screen fills with sadness,
but she remains calm. "No,
Chip," she says firmly. "Being
different doesn't mean
being less. It just means
seeing the world in a
different way. And your dad,
he's incredible in so many
ways. He's smart, and he's
kind, and he loves you
more than anything."

new chip and the dilemma Chip Plankton II ii

JUST A TOUCH ii
(Autistic author)


Plankton began to sit up,
his movements were methodical,
each action deliberate and
precise. His antennae twitched
as he took in the sights and
sounds of the hospital room,
his eye searching for familiarity
in the unfamiliar setting. "Home?"
he asked, his voice a mix
of confusion and urgency.

Karen's screen filled with
understanding. "We're not home,
sweetie. We need to stay here
until the doctors are sure
you're okay." She kept her tone
soft and even, hoping to
soothe his growing anxiety.
Plankton's gaze remained fixed
on her, his expression unreadable.
"You've acquired Autism."

The doctor nodded in
agreement. "It's important
that he feels secure and
comfortable in this new
environment. Let's start with
some simple questions to gauge
his cognitive function." He
turned to Plankton. "Can you
tell me your name?" Plankton's
response was immediate and
crystal clear. "Sheldon J. Plankton."

Karen's heart skipped
a beat at the formality in his
tone. This was her husband,
but the way he spoke was
unlike anything she had
heard from him before. The
doctor's smile remained,
but his eyes were assessing.
"And who is this lovely
lady next to you?" Plankton
paused, his antennae quivering.
"Karen," he said, his voice
slightly softer, "Plankton's 
computer wife." He
was stating facts, not sharing
his emotions. The doctor
noted the exchange and
nodded. "It's alright, Karen.
This is all part of the
adjustment."

He then turned to Plankton.
"Can you tell me what you see
around you?" Plankton's eye
darted around the room again,
his antennae twitching rapidly.
"White walls. Blue floor.
Bright lights. Machines," he listed,
his voice devoid of inflection.
The doctor jotted down notes,
his gaze thoughtful. "Good,
good. Now, can you tell me
how you feel?"

Plankton's response was
quick and specific. "Plankton feel the
coolness of the air conditioner, hear the
hum of the lights above.
Plankton's hand is 
clammy. Your hand is dry."
Karen felt a pang of sadness
at his lack of emotional
description.

The doctor nodded,
his gaze shifting to Karen.
"It's not uncommon for
individuals with Acquired
Autism to speak in a
matter-of-fact manner,
especially when they're
trying to make sense of
their surroundings."

Karen felt a tear
slip down her screen as she
forced a smile for Plankton.
"Okay, we can handle this,"
she thought, wiping it away.
Plankton's gaze never left
the doctor, his eye
scanning every tentacle
as he spoke. "Now, let's check
your coordination," the doctor
said, handing him a simple
puzzle.

Plankton took the puzzle
pieces in his tiny hands and
began to assemble them with
lightning speed. The doctor
watched in amazement as the
intricate pattern emerged,
each piece fitting perfectly.
"Remarkable," he murmured. "It seems
his problem-solving abilities
have indeed been enhanced."

Karen couldn't help but
smile through her tears as she
saw Plankton's meticulous
movements, the way his
fingers danced over the
plastic pieces. It was as if he
saw a pattern that she couldn't.
As the puzzle came together,
she noticed his breathing had
evened out, his movements
more fluid, as if the task
provided him some semblance
of peace.

But when the doctor tried
to take the puzzle away to
test another cognitive
function, Plankton's hand shot
out, his grip tightening on
the last piece. "No," he
said firmly, his voice edged
with something new, something
akin to panic. "It's not finished."

The doctor exchanged
a look with Karen, who nodded
slowly. They had to respect
his new boundaries. "Alright,
Plankton, take your time,"
she said, her voice calm.
The doctor stepped back,
allowing Plankton to complete
his task. With a final snap,
the puzzle was done. Plankton
stared at it, his chest rising
and falling rapidly.

Once the puzzle was
complete, he handed it back
to the doctor with a nod.
The doctor took it with a
smile. "Very good, Plankton."
Karen felt a swell of pride
mixed with the fear.

"Now, let's move on to some
memory recall," the doctor
suggested, his tentacles holding
a series of cards with images.
"I'm going to ask you..."

But before the doctor could
finish, Plankton's antennae shot
up, his eye widening as he
spotted a smudge on the wall.
"Clean," he murmured, his gaze
firmly locked on the imperfection.
Karen's heart sank as she watched
his obsession take hold.

The doctor paused,
sensing the shift in Plankton's
focus. "It appears Plankton has
developed some OCD tendencies
alongside his Autism," he
said gently to Karen. "It's not
unusual for them to fixate
on certain things."

Karen nodded, her eyes
never leaving Plankton's as
his gaze remained glued to
the smudge. "It's okay, Plankton,"
she said, her voice soothing.
"We can get someone to clean
it." Plankton's antennae twitched,
his body visibly relaxing at
the thought. The doctor nodded
at a nearby janitor, who quickly
came over and wiped the smudge
away, leaving the wall gleaming.

With the wall back to its
pristine state, Plankton's eye
moved back to the cards. He took
them in his hands and studied
each image intently, his antennae
quivering with concentration. "Ready?"
Karen asked, hopeful that this
part of the assessment would go
smoothly. But Plankton's gaze
shifted to the floor, focusing
on the tiles. Each one was
perfectly aligned, except for
a single one slightly askew.

"Crooked," he said, his voice
laced with distress. Karen's
heart broke as she watched him
struggle with the internal conflict
of wanting to fix it and knowing
he couldn't. The doctor,
noticing the shift in mood, stepped
in. "It's alright, Plankton.
Let's focus on..."

But Plankton's eye was
already darting around the room,
spotting every imperfection,
his anxiety rising. Karen knew
they had to get home, to a place
where he could find peace. "Doctor,
can we go?" she interrupted, her
voice tight with urgency.

The doctor nodded,
his smile understanding. "Yes,
you can take him home. Remember,
patience is key. His world has
changed, and he needs a stable
environment to adjust." Karen
stood, cradling Plankton in her
arms once again. He felt lighter,
his body more rigid than usual.

As they left the hospital,
the chaotic world of Bikini
Bottom rushed in, a cacophony
of sounds and lights. Plankton's
eye widened, his antennae
quivering. Karen could feel his
discomfort, his body tensing with
each step they took closer to the
noisy, bustling streets.

new just a touch ocdcore ii

THE TOOTH OF A CHILD ii

The nurse finished up the
paperwork and handed it to Karen.
"You're all set to go home
once Mr. Plankton is ready.
Just remember, he'll need to take
it easy for a few days. No
solid food, only soft things like
soups and mashed potatoes."

Karen nodded, her gaze
still locked on Plankton's
fascinated expression. "I've got it
covered," she said. Plankton,
seemingly oblivious to the
instructions, was busy poking
his cheeks with his fingers,
his mouth still numb and frozen.

He looked up at her, his
eye twinkling. "Kay... Kahen...
anotha... anotha teeth."
The nurse had left the room,
leaving them in a quiet
solitude punctuated only by
the rhythmic beeping of the
monitors and the occasional
swish of hospital curtains.

Karen couldn't resist the
urge to laugh. "You're
already asking for more?"
she teased. Plankton shrugged, his
expression as goofy as a puppy's.
"Ith... wothless... wifout...
wisdom," he mumbled.

Her amusement grew.
"I'm not sure if that's a compliment
to the teeth or an insult to
me," she said playfully.

Plankton's antennae shot up,
his cheeks flushing a brighter shade
of pink. "Mmph... no, no... gwed...
wisdom..." he insisted, his speech
still slurred. Karen couldn't help but
smile at his earnestness.

"Alright, I'll keep that in mind,"
she said, her voice filled with affectionate
sarcasm. "So, what's the first thing
you want to do when we get home?"

Plankton's antennae twitched with excitement.
"Mmph... mow... wock?" he slurred, his voice
muffled by the anesthesia.

Karen raised an eyebrow, surprised by his sudden
interest in music. "You want to rock?"
she repeated, amusement dancing in her eyes.

Plankton nodded vigorously, his antennae bobbing.
"Mmhmm," he managed, his mouth still
refusing to cooperate. "Wock and wowl."

Karen couldn't help but laugh. "Okay, okay. I'll
make sure to have some rock music ready
for when we get home." Plankton's eye lit up,
his enthusiasm clear despite the numbness.

"Gweat," he murmured, his antennae swaying
to an unheard melody. Karen watched him,
his normally stoic face now a canvas of
comical expressions and muffled sounds. It was
surreal to see him like this, but she
found his vulnerability endearing.

"But first, we need to get you home,"
she said, her voice a gentle reminder
of reality. Plankton nodded, his
eye closing in exhaustion. He leaned
his head back on the pillow, his
snoring resuming its soft crescendo.

The nurse returned to check on them.
"Looks like he's comfortable," she said
with a smile. "You can take him home
whenever you're ready." Karen nodded,
still watching Plankton's peaceful face.

"Mmph... Kahen?" Plankton's eye
opened again, searching for her.
"Ca-- we go now?" he slurred, his voice
laced with hope. Karen couldn't resist the
urge to lean over and kiss his forehead.
"Soon, buddy," she whispered.

He nodded, his antennae waving
sluggishly. His hand found hers again,
his grip firm despite his grogginess.
Karen felt her heart melt at his
determination. "Mmph... I teww you 'notha
tink?" he mumbled, his smile hopeful.

"Sure," she said, leaning closer.

"Wheh, mmmph... the dentist
made every ting awwright, yet
firsh, they saith I woul’ be in
surgery. Bu’ they didn’t even
cuth me openth! They jus’
made every ting go woozy,"
Plankton slurred. "Then youw
face wath theath wight bulb on
top."

Karen couldn't stop herself from
laughing. "What are you talking
about, Plankton?" she asked, her voice
filled with warmth.

He tried to enunciate, his
lips moving awkwardly. "Mmph, Kahen,
the dentist... they... they put me to
sweep wi’out cutting me." His
words were jumbled. Karen's curiosity
piqued, she leaned in closer.

"What do you mean, without cutting you?"
she questioned, her voice filled
with gentle amusement.

Plankton's antennae waved wildly.
"Mmph, they goth me all sleepy and
then I woke up wifout getting cuth!"
he exclaimed, his words still thick.

Karen couldn't contain her laughter.
"They didn't cut you because they already
took your teeth out while you were asleep,"
she explained, her voice a blend of humor
and affection.

Plankton's antennae drooped, his eye
looking disappointed. "Mmph, oh... I wath
expehcting a magith trick." He slumped
back into the pillow.

Karen chuckled, stroking his
hand. "It's like magic, isn't it?"
she said, her voice light. "You
went to sleep with four extra teeth
and woke up with none."

Plankton's antennae shot up again.
"Ma... ma... magic?" he repeated,
his voice filled with wonder.
Karen nodded. "In a way, yes.
They used sleepy medicine so you
wouldn't feel a thing."

He stared at her, his eye wide
with fascination. "Wow, Kahen.
They're wike wizawds!" he exclaimed,
his speech still slurred but his
enthusiasm unmistakable. Karen laughed
again, her heart feeling lighter.

"Mmph, can they make me
fwee too?" Plankton asked,
his voice filled with hope. Karen
shook her head, her smile never
leaving her lips. "Sorry, Plankton.
Only in your dreams."

He pouted, his cheeks puffing
out like a chipmunk's. "Mmph, no fun."
His eye grew heavy again, his body
still feeling the weight of the
anesthesia. Karen stood, gently
squeezing his hand. "Let's get you
up, okay?"

With a groan, Plankton
managed to push himself into
a sitting position, his legs
dangling over the side of the bed.
Karen supported him, her arm
wrapped around his shoulder. His
head lolled to one side.

"Mmph... wath... whath... 
whath's that?"

Plankton's voice was a muffled
mess, his words tripping over
his still-numb tongue. Karen
followed his gaze to the
plastic cup of water.

"Mmph... wath's in thef?"
he asked, his curiosity piqued.

Karen laughed gently. "It's for rinsing,
buddy. To keep your mouth clean."
Plankton nodded, his antennae
still waving with excitement.

The nurse stepped in to help,
handing him the cup filled with
water. "Here, take
a sip."

Plankton's antennae waved
nervously as he took the cup,
his hand trembling. He took
a tentative sip, his mouth
filling with the cold liquid. "Ah, gwed,"
he slurred, his speech still
affected by the anesthesia.

Karen watched him with
amusement. "You're doing great,"
she encouraged, her voice
soothing. Plankton managed
a wobbly nod. "Mmph... wath's nxt?"

"Now, we just need to get
you home,"
she said, her eyes sparkling
with mirth. Plankton's antennae
drooped slightly. "Mmph... dawes?"

Karen nodded, her smile
never fading. "Yes, darling,
we're going home now." Plankton's
eye lit up with excitement,
his slurred speech a cute contrast
to his usual sharp wit.

new the tooth of a child wisdomtoothcore wisdomteethcore ii

JUST A TOUCH vi
(Autistic author)


Plankton's antennae twitch
slightly. His eye dart
to the clock on the wall. "Must rest,"
he murmurs, his voice low.

Karen nods, her hand
squeezing his shoulder 
gently, which makes
him flinch.

"I'm sorry," she says,
quickly withdrawing it.

They sit in the quiet,
Plankton's mind racing, trying
to process the onslaught of
the day. Karen's eyes are on him,
a mix of sadness and love. He
can feel it, even through the
wall of his new condition.

He reaches out, tentatively,
his hand hovering over hers.
It's a peace offering, a silent
request for the comfort she
always provided. Karen's eyes widen,
surprise and hope flickering
in their depths. She places her hand
under his, allowing him to guide
it to his cheek.

"Plankton can, may I ask
you something?" Karen
says quietly.

He nods once, his antennae
still. "Yes," he says.

"What were you experiencing
when you froze today? You
know, before we came to
our bed? When Hanna was..."

Plankton's antennae quiver,
his gaze shifting to hers. "Too much,"
he murmurs. "Could tell you're here
and talking but, cannot comprehend.
Plankton felt dizzy in the head. Was
present yet not present."

Karen's eyes fill with
understanding. "It's like your brain
was on overload," she says, her
voice soft. "And my touch...it helped?"

Plankton shrugs, his antennae
lifting slightly. "Familiar. Soothing."
He looks at her, his gaze
intense. "Needed more of you."

Karen's eyes water, a soft
smile playing on her lips.
"I'm here now," she whispers.
But Plankton notices the
tears in her eyes.

"Why sad?" he asks, his voice
still flat. "Karen crying. Crying
sad. Thus, Karen's sad.."

Karen sniffles, her thumb
wiping away a tear. "I'm just
overwhelmed," she says. "I'm
trying to understand and be
there for you, but sometimes
it's hard."

Plankton's antennae droop.
"Karen not at fault," he says,
his voice devoid of emotion.
"Plankton's brain... different, now."

Karen nods, her hand
still in his. "I know," she whispers.
"But I'm here to learn with you."
Her words hang in the air, a promise
of support and patience.

Plankton's gaze lingers
on their joined hands, his
thumb tracing gentle circles on
her palm. The sensation grounds
him, a lifeline in the storm
of his new reality. He tries
to formulate his next words,
his mind racing. "Thanks,"
he finally says, his voice a
barely-there whisper.

Karen smiles softly, her
eyes never leaving his. 
"For what?"

Plankton's antennae twitch.
"For... being... understanding."
The words are forced, but the
sentiment is clear. Karen's
heart swells with love and
determination.

They sit in silence for a
moment, the gentle pressure
of their joined hands speaking
louder than any words could.

Plankton's gaze shifts
from their interlocked hands
to Karen's eyes. He can see
the love and concern in them,
and it calms him in a way
nothing else can.

He takes a deep breath,
his chest rising and falling
slowly. "Karen," he says, his voice
still monotone but with a
hint of longing. "Can... be
in your arms?"

Karen's eyes widen with
understanding. She nods,
moving closer to him. "Of
course," she whispers, opening
her arms. Plankton shifts his
body, his movements stiff
but deliberate as he
slides closer to her.

He nestles into her embrace,
his antennae resting on her
shoulder. Her arms close
around him, enveloping
his small form in warmth.

He takes a deep
breath, his body finally
beginning to unwind.

Plankton's antennae
still, his breathing
evening out.

Karen holds him.
Her hand gently 
strokes his back—
a soothing motion.
Plankton's eye
closes.

Karen's heart swells with
relief as Plankton's body
gradually relaxes into her embrace.
The weight of the day's
stresses seems to melt away
as she holds him, feeling the
steady rhythm of his breaths.
This is a new chapter in their
relationship, one filled with
unexpected challenges and a
deeper understanding of each
other's needs. She's aware that
his autism isn't something
to be cured or fixed, but a part
of who he is now, something
to be accepted and supported.

She strokes his back, her movements
slow and measured, mimicking the
calm she wishes to impart. His
breaths deepen, and she can feel
his body grow heavier in her arms.

Plankton's antennae droop with
fatigue, his eyelid flickering
as he succumbs to sleep. His
tiny hand remains in hers, a silent
plea to not let go. Karen
squeezes gently, her screen
never leaving his face.

The room is bathed in the soft
glow of the bedside lamp, the
shadows playing across the wall
like a silent guardian. The only
noise is the steady tick of the
clock and the occasional
snore from Plankton.

Karen watches him sleep, his
tiny form nestled in the crook
of her arm. His antennae rest
peacefully against her shoulder,
his breaths deep and even.
Her heart swells with a mix
of love and fear. She's afraid
for him, for the world
he's woken up to, a place
where every sound, every touch,
every interaction is a minefield.
But she's also proud of him,
the way he's trying to navigate
this new reality with a stoicism
that belies his size.

Plankton stirs slightly, his
eyelid fluttering. Karen holds
her breath, afraid to disturb
his fragile peace. His hand tightens
on hers, and she knows he's
aware of her presence. It's a
small victory in a day filled
with confusion.

He opens his eye, looking
up at her with a gaze that's
both familiar and foreign.
"Karen," he says, his voice
still monotone.

Karen's screen brightens with
relief. "Yes, Plankton?"

He shifts, his gaze drifting
to the book on the nightstand.
"Book," he says, his voice
barely audible. "Read."

Karen nods, understanding
his need for the familiar. She
picks up the book, her eyes
skimming over the pages. "Which one?"
she asks softly. Plankton's
eye darts to the title.

"The... puzzle," he murmurs,
his voice a mere echo. Karen opens
the book to the puzzle they'd
been working on. His gaze
follows her finger as she traces
the words. His antennae twitch.

"Would... you like to hear it?"
she asks tentatively. He nods,
his body still tense. Karen
clears her throat, her voice gentle
as she reads the words aloud.

Plankton's eye drifts
closed again, the sound of her
voice a comforting lullaby.
His hand relaxes in hers, the
tension in his body dissipating.

Karen reads on, her voice
a steady rhythm that fills the
silent room. The words from
the puzzle book form a bridge
between them, connecting them
in a way that's both new and
comfortingly familiar. Plankton's
mind focuses on the patterns
and sequences, the logical
structure a sanctuary in the
chaos.

As she reads, Karen can feel
his muscles relaxing further, his
breathing deepening into sleep.
The room's quietude wraps
around them like a cocoon,
their shared history a warm
blanket. It's a stark contrast
to the panic and confusion
that had gripped him earlier.

The puzzle's words weave
themselves into a tapestry
of comfort, each syllable a
stitch in the fabric of their
new reality. Plankton's love
for order and patterns hasn't
changed, but the way
he interacts with them has.
The autism has transformed
his world, but not the essence
of who he is.

As Karen reads, her voice
soothing his frayed nerves,
she can't help but feel a
sense of awe at his resilience.
He's still her Plankton, the
same being she's known for so long,
but now he's also someone new,
someone she's just beginning to
understand. His mind operates
on a different wavelength, one
that she's eager to tune into.

Then the door
bell rings. It's
Sandy!

Plankton's antennae shoot up,
his body stiffening in Karen's arms.
"Who is it?" he asks, his voice
sharp with anxiety.

Karen's eyes dart to the
clock on the wall. "It's just
Sandy," she says, her voice
calm. "It's okay."

Plankton's antennae quiver, his
eye searching hers for
reassurance. "Sandy?" he repeats,
his voice unsure.

Karen nods, her smile gentle.
"It's okay," she says, her voice a
whisper. "We'll take this slow."

Plankton's gaze locks onto
Sandy as she enters the room,
his eyes darting around to
assess the new presence. Sandy
watches him, her face a mix of
curiosity and concern. "Howdy,
Plankton," she says, her voice
soft. "How are y'all?"

Plankton's antennae twitch.
He's heard her voice before,
but it's different now. Too
loud, too bright. He shrinks
back into Karen's embrace. "Good,"
he says, his voice tight. "Good."

Sandy's eyes dart between
them, her smile fading. "What's
wrong?" she asks, her voice
gentle. Karen sighs.

"Plankton's had an... accident,"
she says carefully.

Sandy's eyes widen with shock,
her hand flying to her mouth.
"What happened?"

Karen's gaze doesn't waver
from Plankton's. "He's
been diagnosed with Acquired
Autism," she says softly. "From
a head injury."

Sandy's eyes widen in
disbelief. "Oh no," she whispers.
"I had no idea."

Karen nods, her screen
reflecting the weight of
the last few hours. "It's a lot to take
in," she says. "We're still learning."

Sandy steps closer, her
movements slow and deliberate.
"What can I do?" she asks.

Karen's shoulders
slump with relief. "Just...
be patient with him,"
she says. "He's still the same
Plankton, but... different."

Sandy nods solemnly.
"I will," she promises.

new just a touch sandarenton vi

GREAT CHIP vi
(Autistic author)

Plankton's antennae twitched,
his face etched with lines
of fatigue. "It's not that I don't
want your affection," he said,
his voice hoarse. "I just need it
in a way that doesn't make me feel...
like I'm in a minefield."

Chip's eyes searched his dad's,
his mind racing to understand.
"How do you mean?" he asked,
his curiosity genuine.

Plankton took a deep breath,
his antennae twitching as he searched
for the right words. "It's like...
sometimes, a simple touch can feel
like an electric shock," he began,
his voice strained. "Or like I'm being
smothered by a heavy blanket of sound."

Chip's eyes widened, trying to
comprehend. "But you've always
hugged mom," he said, his voice
filled with confusion.

Plankton's antennae drooped slightly.
"It's different with your mother,"
he explained, his voice a little
less strained. "She knows me,
she knows my limits. And she's...
patient." He paused, his eye
flickering with something
resembling sadness. "But others,
it's..."

Chip leaned in, his curiosity
piqued. "What about others?"
he asked gently.

Plankton's antennae twitched,
his expression tightening.
"With others, it's... unpredictable,"
he said, his voice a mix of
frustration and resignation.
"Some days I can handle a pat
on the back, and others, it's like
being stabbed."

Chip's eyes widened, his hand
instinctively moving to his chest.
"It's that intense?" he whispered.

Plankton nodded, his antennae
waving slightly. "Some days are
worse than others," he said, his voice
soft. "But when it's bad, it feels like
I'm being bombarded from all sides.
It's...overwhelming."

Chip's brow furrowed as he
tried to imagine the intensity
his dad described. "What can I do
to make sure I don't hurt you?"
he asked, his voice earnest.

Plankton's antennae perked up
slightly, his eye searching Chip's
face. "Just be mindful," he said,
his voice softer than before. "Watch
for my cues. If I look overwhelmed,
if I flinch, just...give me space."

Chip nodded, his eyes
never leaving his dad's. "What are
the cues?" he asked, eager to learn.
"How do I know when you're in that
'minefield'?"

Plankton's antennae twitched,
his eye searching for the right words.
"Well, my antennae might twitch a lot,
I might get really quiet, or I might
get louder. It's different
every time."

Chip nodded, his eyes
never leaving Plankton's face.
"So, if you're in that 'minefield',
I should just...?"

"You can be there,"
Plankton finished for him,
his antennae still. "But not too close.
Make sure to get your mother."

Chip nodded, his mind racing
with the new information.
He'd always known his dad
was special, but this was
a new kind of understanding.

"What about sounds?" he asked,
his voice tentative. "What noises
set you off?"

Plankton sighed, his antennae
twitching slightly. "It's not just
about the loudness," he began,
his eye searching the ceiling
as if for an answer. "It's more about
the pitch, the suddenness. Like when
you scratch or drop something.."

Chip's eyes grew wide with
realization. "Oh," he murmured.
"So, it's like a surprise attack?"

Plankton's antennae nodded.
"Exactly," he said, his voice
sounding a bit less strained.
"But it's not just about the
sounds themselves. It's about
how my brain interprets them."

Chip leaned in, his eyes
filled with curiosity.
"But how did you get it, Dad?"
he asked, his voice soft.
"Was it from something you caught
or something that happened?"

Plankton's antennae waved
in frustration. "It's not like that,"
he said, his voice sharp. "I was born
with it. It's just the way
my brain is developed, and it's not
like getting a cold!" His eye
was intense, his voice rising.

Chip's eyes widened, taking
in his father's outburst.

Plankton took a deep breath,
his antennae dropping slightly.

"I know you didn't mean it like that,"
he said, his voice softer. "But it's
important to understand that it's
not something I can just get over.
It's a part of how I am."

Chip nodded, feeling the weight
of his father's words. "I'm sorry,"
he said, his voice barely audible. "I..."

Plankton's antennae waved gently,
his eye softening. "It's okay," he said.
"I know you didn't mean to upset me.
It's just...it's a lot to explain."

Chip nodded, feeling a pang
of guilt. He knew his dad
wasn't mad at him, but it was
still hard to see him so upset.

Plankton's eye searched his son's
face, the anger slowly fading
into something softer. "Look," he said,
his voice low. "I know it's a lot to take in,
but I need you to know that I l-love you."

Chip felt a tear slide down
his cheek. "I love you too, Dad,"
he managed to say, his voice
choking with emotion. "But I don't
want you to be in pain."

Plankton's antennae waved gently,
his expression a mix of love and
sorrow. "I know," he said. "And that's why
we're talking about this. So you can
understand, so you know."

Chip sniffled, trying to hold back
his tears. "But why didn't you tell
me sooner?" he asked, his voice
small.

Plankton's antennae drooped,
his face etched with regret.
"I was afraid," he admitted.
"Afraid that you'd think
I was broken. That you'd...
not love me the same. And
I don't usually like to talk
about it to much."

Chip felt his heart ache.
"Dad," he said, his voice
steady despite his emotions.
"I could never think of you
as broken. You're the smartest
person I know. And you're
my hero."

Plankton's antennae perked up
slightly at the words, his eye
filling with warmth. "But you don't
see me like that when I'm...
in that state," he said, his voice
barely a whisper. "You stared at me like I'm
to be feared."

Chip's eyes widened, a look
of horror crossing his face. "Dad, no!"
he exclaimed. "I didn't mean to!"

Plankton's antennae drooped,
his expression one of defeat.
"It's okay, Chip," he said, his voice
resigned. "It's hard to explain. It's not
like I can control it."

Chip nodded, his mind racing
with questions and fears. He knew
his dad wasn't broken, but he wished
there was something he could do to ease
his pain. "What happens when
you're in that state?" he asked, his voice
barely above a whisper.

Plankton's antennae twitched,
his eye closed as he tried to
explain. "It's like my brain's in a
whirlwind, and I can't get out,"
he said. "Everything's spinning,
and I can't focus on anything."

"But why do you get so upset
when it happens?" he pressed.

Plankton took a deep breath,
his antennae stilling. "Because
I don't know what's happening,"
he said, his voice strained. "And when
it's over, I don't remember."

Chip's eyes searched his dad's,
his heart breaking for him. "But
why don't you remember?"

Plankton's antennae twitched,
his eye opening slightly. "It's like
waking up from a deep sleep,"
he murmured. "I know I've been
somewhere, but the details are
always fuzzy."

Chip nodded, trying to imagine
his dad's world. "What do you see?"
he asked, his voice filled with awe.

Plankton's antennae twitched,
his eye focusing on a spot on the wall.
"It's like...colors and shapes,"
he said, his voice distant. "They're all
swirling around, so fast that I can't
make sense of them."

Chip's eyes grew wide with
wonder. "Is it like a kaleidoscope?"
he asked, his voice filled with
awe.

Plankton's antennae twitched slightly,
his eye opening a bit wider. "In a way,"
he murmured. "But it's more...
dis..."

The door to the room creaked open,
interrupting his thought. Karen stepped in,
her eyes darting between Chip and Plankton.
The tension in the air was palpable,
but she offered a small smile of encouragement.
"Chip, Plankton; how long have you been up?"

Chip glanced at the clock on the nightstand.
"A while, Mom," he said, his voice thick
with the weight of their conversation.

new great chip learncore vi

KAREN AND THE AUTISTIC JOURNEY viii
(Autistic author)

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

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

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

Plankton nods, his antennas
still drooping.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

NEUROBEHAVIORAL PLANKTON ii
(Autistic author)

The doctor stepped in, 
his tentacles moving 
gently as he spoke. 
"Mr. Plankton, it's 
important to stay 
calm. This is a 
big change. Can
you tell me your name?"

Plankton's gaze 
flicked from Karen 
to Dr. Kelp, his 
expression a mask 
of confusion. 
"I'm Plankton," he 
managed to say, his 
voice shaky.

The doctor nodded, 
his tentacles still 
and calm. "Good. That's 
good, Mr. Plankton. Do 
you know where you 
are?"

Plankton's eye 
darted around the 
room again, his 
breathing growing 
rapid and shallow. 
He looked down
and then back up at 
Karen. "What's happening?"
he repeated for the third 
time, his voice 
now a little more 
frantic.

Karen's heart 
was in her throat. 
The doctor's 
explanation was 
beginning to take 
root in her mind, 
and she could see 
the stark reality 
of their situation. 
Plankton's repetition, 
his difficulty with 
understanding new 
surroundings and his 
increased sensitivity 
to sound—these were 
all hallmarks of his 
new autism.

The doctor 
continued his 
assessment.

"Mr. Plankton, 
can you tell me 
your wife's name?" 
he prompted.

Plankton's gaze 
shifted to Karen, 
his expression 
becoming more 
focused, as if her 
presence was the 
only familiar 
thing in the room. 
"Karen," he said, 
his voice 
softening slightly.

The doctor 
nodded, making 
a note on his 
clipboard. "Good. 
Now, can you tell 
me what happened 
before you woke up?"

Plankton's eye 
flitted back to 
Karen, searching 
for answers. 

He began to 
rock slightly, his 
body moving in 
a rhythmic 
motion, a common 
self-soothing behavior 
for those on the 
autism spectrum. 
Karen recognized 
it immediately
but seeing it in 
Plankton was 
jarring.

His gaze darted 
around the room, 
his pupil dilating 
with every new 
sound or movement. 
The doctor's tentacles 
were a blur of 
activity making notes.

"Mr. Plankton, I 
see you're feeling 
You're almost ready
to go back home
with Karen." Dr. Kelp 
says calmly. "Just
one more question, 
if you don't mind. Now, 
can you tell me if you
have any pets?"

Plankton's eye
flitted around the 
room. "Pets? Spot!
Yes, Spot. Amoeba
puppy; Spot.."

The doctor nodded, 
his tentacles 
still scribbling notes. 
"Very good, Mr. Plankton. 
It seems like your long-term 
memory is intact, which is a 
positive sign. Now Karen can
take you home!"

Karen felt a 
wave of relief 
crash over her, but 
it was tinged with 
the stark reality that 
their life was never 
going to be the same. 
Plankton's autistic 
mannerisms were 
now a constant 
reminder of the 
accident—his 
newfound need for 
routine, his heightened 
sensitivity to 
surroundings, and the 
way his eye would 
dance around the room 
as he tried to 
make sense of 
his environment.

As they arrived home, the 
stark reality of their new 
life hit Karen like a wave. 
His once-quick steps had 
been replaced with a 
cautious shuffle, as if the 
very floor beneath him was 
unpredictable.

Inside, Plankton 
was drawn to the 
rhythmic ticking of the 
grandfather clock, 
his eye fixated on the 
second hand's journey. 
Karen watched him. His 
newfound need for 
predictability was 
overwhelmingly apparent.

"Let's sit down," 
she suggested, 
guiding him to their 
couch, which was 
now occupied by
Spot.

Plankton's gaze 
flitted around the 
living room, 
his eye alighting 
on his beloved
amoeba puppy
Spot.

"Spot," he murmured, 
his voice tentative, 
as if unsure if 
his words would 
have the same 
effect they once did.
The pup looked up 
at him, its blob-like 
form shifting 
slightly with excitement.

But instead of the
weariness Plankton 
has shown today, he
joyfully watched Spot's 
movements. Karen felt a 
moment of warmth—
his love for Spot hadn't
changed, nor their usual
interactions.

The doctor had 
told her that routines 
were vital for those 
with his condition. So,
she decided to start 
their day with a 
familiar activity: 
breakfast.

Plankton's eye
lit up at the 
sight of the 
familiar kitchen. 
He took his usual 
seat at the table, 
his hands fidgeting 
with the napkin. Karen
noticed his meticulous
arrangement of his 
silverware, the way 
he lined up his plate 
and cup perfectly 
parallel to the edges.

As she prepared 
their meal, she 
could feel his 
gaze on her, 
his eye darting 
between her and 
Spot, who was now 
playfully chasing 
his own tail in a 
loop around the 
living room.
He began to 
hum a tune, 
his voice off-key 
and repetitive. 
Karen's with love 
despite the 
pain she felt.

The clanging 
of pans was 
loud in the 
silence, making 
Plankton flinch—this 
was going to be 
so much harder 
than she had 
anticipated.

The doctor's 
instructions echoed 
in her mind: 
stick to routine, 
keep things simple.

Karen set the 
breakfast plates 
down carefully, 
each item placed 
exactly where 
Plankton liked it.
His eye grew wide 
as she slid his plate 
closer. He stared at 
the food for a 
moment, then picked 
up his spoon.

The clink of 
metal on porcelain 
was like a gunshot 
to his heightened 
sensitivity. He 
dropped the spoon, 
his hands shooting up 
to cover his head in
distress.

"It's okay, 
sweetheart," Karen 
soothed, moving 
quickly to 
his side. She 
retrieved the 
spoon and set it 
aside, her hand 
trembling slightly.

"You don't 
have to eat 
right now," she 
said softly, her voice 
a gentle caress 
against the tension 
in the room.

Plankton 
nodded slightly, his 
breathing slowing as 
his hands uncovered 
his ears. He 
fidgeted in his 
chair, his eye
darting to the 
ceiling as if 
searching for something.

"Let's go read
a book," Karen suggested, 
desperate to find 
anything that might 
calm his nerves.

Plankton nodded 
slightly, his gaze 
still unfocused. He 
stood up carefully, 
his body moving 
with the precision 
of a man who knew 
his world had changed.

As they approached 
the bookshelf, 
his eye caught 
a glint of metal 
from the corner 
of the room. 
The invention 
that had brought 
them here lay in 
a tangled heap, 
its wires and gears 
silent and 
ominous, giving
him déjà vu.

Plankton stopped, 
his body rigid, 
his gaze locked 
on the machine. 
He stared unblinking, 
his mind racing 
back to the crash.

Karen notices his
suddenly unmoving
form and gets concerned.

"Plankton?" she calls
softly, but he doesn't
react.

His entire being 
seemed to be 
consumed by the 
wreckage of his 
former life.

The invention, a 
testament to his 
former brilliance, 
now a grim 
reminder of the 
accident.

"Plankton, honey," 
Karen's voice was 
barely a whisper 
as she tried to 
get him to talk. 
He didn't move.

The invention, a 
tangled web of 
wires and gears, 
seemed to hold 
his gaze captive. 
It was the very 
machine that had 
caused this 
transformation.

Karen followed 
his gaze, her heart 
sinking as she 
realized the source 
of his distress.

"Let's go to 
another room," she 
suggested gently, 
her hand resting 
on his arm. 
But he didn't move.

Karen felt the 
weight of the 
moment settle 
heavily on her 
shoulders. It was 
time to face the 
reality of their new 
life together—a 
life where Plankton's 
once sharp wit and 
innovative spirit 
were now clouded by 
a disorder she 
was only beginning to
understand.

Her heart 
swelled with 
sorrow as she 
observed his 
interaction with 
the inanimate objects 
around him. The 
love she had for 
him remained 
unshaken, but the 
thought of what 
they had lost—what 
he had lost—was 
almost too much to 
bear.

"Come on," she 
coaxed, her voice 
gentle as a lullaby. 
"Let's go to the 
living room. I'll 
read you a story?"

Yet Plankton remains
frozen. So Karen made a 
decision. She 
couldn't bear the 
thought of that 
accursed machine 
looming over them, 
a constant 
reminder of the 
tragic turn their lives 
had taken.

With a fierce 
determination she 
hadn't felt in 
ages, she strode 
over to the invention 
and began to dismantle 
it, piece by painful 
piece.

The metal 
clanked and clattered 
as she worked, 
her movements 
quick and sure, 
each part coming 
off with a 
satisfying crunch. 
Plankton's eye 
followed her, his 
expression unreadable.

When the last 
piece was removed, 
his gaze lifted 
to meet hers, 
his eye filled 
with something 
that looked akin 
to gratitude.

"Thank you, Karen," 
Plankton murmured, 
his voice a 
quiet rumble in 
the stillness of the 
now bare room.

Karen paused in 
her task, her eyes 
meeting his with a 
surprised expression. 
This was the first
time since the 
accident that he had 
spoken to her with 
anything other than 
fear or confusion.

"You're welcome," 
she said, her voice 
choked with emotion.

new neurobehavioral plankton plaren ii

CATCH IN MY CHIP vi
(Autistic author)

Plankton's gaze shifts to Chip,
his eye filled with regret, but 
the words won't come. Despite
his leftover anger, he felt a bit
bad about it. He just wanted to
show Chip what it meant to be
bombarded! He didn't have it in
him to say he's sorry, and he's
still tense.

Karen feels the weight of the
moment, her eyes moving
between her husband and her son.
"Why don't you sit with Daddy,
Chip?" she suggests, her voice
soft. "Give him some space,
but let him know you're here.
I'll be downstairs."

With a nod, Chip approaches the
bed, his eyes still filled with
uncertainty. He sits down gingerly
beside Plankton, who's staring
at the shattered mess of their
evening. The room is a silent testament
to their unspoken words and the
battle that raged within Plankton.

For a moment, neither of them
moves, the air thick with unspoken
regret and confusion. Then,
slowly, Chip reaches out with
his small hand.

Plankton looks at him, his
eye reflecting a tumult of
emotions—anger, guilt, fear,
frustration.

Chip's hand hovers over
his dad's, unsure if he'll
flinch or pull away. "I'm
sorry," he whispers, his voice
barely above a breath.

Plankton's antennas droop, his
eye still cast down at the
wreckage of their evening. 
"I know," he says, his voice
still tight with anger.

Chip's hand hovers 
over his arm. "Ca--"

But Plankton cuts him off.
"Don't," he says, his voice
raw with emotion. "Just don't."
He turns away, his body a wall
of tension.

Chip's hand falls to his side,
his eyes wide with hurt. "But Dad,"
he says, his voice breaking.
"I di-"

"I said don't," Plankton snaps,
his voice harsh. "I can't do this
right now." His antennas twitch,
his body language a clear
indication that he needs space.

Chip's eyes fill with tears,
his hand retreating to his
lap. "But Dad," he starts again,
his voice shaking.

Plankton's eye snaps up,
his anger a living flame. "I said
don't!" he shouts, his voice
echoing in the small room.

"But I'm just 
trying to-"

"I SAID DON'T!"
The words are a thunderclap,
silencing Chip's protests. He pulls
his legs up to his chest, hugging
his knees tightly, as if to shield
his heart from the pain.

"Dad I promise I won't 
overwhelm you again," 
Chip whispers. Plankton's 
antennas quiver, his 
shoulders hunched. But
Chip takes that as a green
light.
Remembering how his mom
put her hand on his back, he
tries to replicate it. So
with a trembling hand, Chip
reaches out and touches Plankton's
shoulder with hope..

But Plankton's reaction is
not what he expects. With a
shriek of overstimulation,
Plankton jumps away, his
body convulsing as if he's
been electrified. "Don't touch
me!" he yells.

The room seems to tilt, and
Chip's eyes widen with shock.
He's never seen his dad like
this before, so raw and exposed.
"Dad, I'm sorry," he whispers,
his hand retreating as if burned.

Plankton's face contorts, his
body wracked with a tremor
that shakes him to the core.

Chip's eyes widen in horror,
his hand hovering in the space
between them, frozen.

Karen steps back into the
room, her gaze taking in the
snapshot of pain and regret.
Her heart aches for both her
husband and son. She knows
Plankton didn't mean to scream,
that his senses are still on
high alert. And she knows
Chip is just trying to bridge
the gap with his love.

Her eyes lock onto Plankton's,
and she can see the desperation
behind the anger. He's scared
and overwhelmed, and she
understands that feeling all too
well. She moves towards the bed,
her steps measured and calm.
"Plankton, sweetie," she says,
her voice a soothing melody as
she reaches out to touch his
back. But the moment her hand
makes contact, Plankton's
body tenses further, his eye
squeezing shut. "No!" he yells.

Karen's hand retreats as if
she's been burned, her eyes
filled with a mix of sadness
and concern. "Plankton," she
whispers, her voice barely
audible above Chip's sniffles.

Plankton's body is a coil of
tension, his eye squeezed
shut as if trying to block
out the world. The room
seems to spin around him,
each sound and sensation a
needle prick in his overloaded
brain. "K-Karen, I...," he gasps, his
voice strained. "I-I-I-I… can't..."

Karen's realizes the gravity
of the situation. She
understands that her husband
has hit a point of no return,
where even the gentle touch
of her hand is too much.

With a deep sigh, she sits
down on the bed, her eyes on
Plankton's trembling form.
Her heart is torn between
concern for him and the
knowledge that Chip is
watching, trying to make
sense of the chaos. "Okay, honey,"
she says, her voice a soft
whisper. "It's okay. We'll give
you some space."

Chip looks up at her, his
face a question mark. "But
Dad?" he says, his voice
small.

Karen nods, her eyes never
leaving Plankton's. "It's okay,
Chip," she says, her voice steady.
"Daddy needs some alone time."

With a heavy heart, Chip slides
off the bed, the shattered
pieces of his trophy crunching
under his feet. He looks at
his dad one last time, his eyes
filled with a mix of fear and
longing. "Okay," he whispers,
his voice thick with unshed tears.

Karen nods, her gaze never
leaving Plankton. "I'll come
find you when Dad's feeling
a bit better."

Chip's eyes dart to his
dad, who's still shaky, his
body curled into a tight ball.
The sight breaks Karen's heart,
but she knows that this is
the best they can do for now.

Karen's gaze lingers on Plankton,
understanding the silent
cry for help in his eye. She's seen
this before, the way his autism
can consume him during moments of
overwhelm. She nods gently, her eyes
conveying her love and patience.

Plankton's breathing starts to
even out, his body slowly
unwinding from the tight coil
of tension. He's aware of her
presence, the steady rhythm of
her breathing a comforting metronome
in the chaos of his thoughts. Karen
knows that space is crucial for him,
but she also understands that a quiet
companion can be just as healing.

"It's okay," she whispers, her
hand hovering close but not
touching him. "You can take your
time." Her voice is a gentle
reminder that he's not alone.

Plankton's eye flickers to her,
his breaths still ragged. Karen's
understanding is a lifeline in
the storm of his emotions.

Karen knows that pushing him
now would only make things worse,
so she sits quietly beside him,
offering her silent support.
Her love for him is a balm to
his soul, even if he can't
express it in words.

new catch in my chip Chip Plankton II vi

A JOURNEY TO AUTISM ii

(Autistic author)

His eye took a moment to focus 
on her, and when it did, she saw a 
flicker of confusion, followed by 
a glimmer of recognition. "Karen?" 
he repeated, his voice still faint.

"Yes, it's me, 
Plankton. You're ok."

But his gaze remained distant, 
his focus unsteady. "Where...where 
are we?"
"We're at the hospital, sweetheart," 
Karen said softly, stroking his antenna. 
"You had an accident."

The confusion in Plankton's eye grew, 
and he tried to sit up, but a wave of 
dizziness forced him back down. "What 
kind of accident?" His voice was 
still weak, but there was an urgency 
to his words that hadn't been there 
before.

Karen took a deep breath, her 
grip on his hand tightening. "Mr. 
Krabs...he hit you with a fry pan."
The words tasted bitter 
but she had to tell him the 
truth. Plankton's eye widened 
slightly, and she watched as the 
puzzle pieces of the situation 
slowly clicked into place in his 
mind.

"Krabby Patty," he murmured, 
his voice distant.
"Yes, Plankton, you were trying to 
get the recipe again," Karen 
whispered, aching at 
the memory. "But it's over now. 
You need to rest."

His eye searched hers, and 
for a moment, she thought she saw a 
flicker of his old self, the cunning 
and ambitious man she had married. 
But it was gone as quickly as it 
appeared, replaced by a vacant 
stare.
"Don't... don't remember,"
he mumbled, his antennas drooping.
This wasn't the 
Plankton she knew, the one who 
schemed with a glint in his eye 
and a plan in his pocket.
"It's ok, Plankton," she 
soothed, her voice trembling.
She took a deep breath, 
trying to compose herself. "Do you 
remember me?"

Plankton's gaze remained 
steady for a moment, and then he 
nodded slowly. "Karen," he said, 
his voice a hoarse whisper. But 
the spark of recognition 
was tinged with confusion, as if 
he wasn't quite sure how he knew her.

Karen's felt like 
breaking into a million tiny pieces. 
But she knew she had to stay 
strong. For Plankton. For them. 
"You don't remember what happened, 
do you?" she asked gently. "What else
do you remember?"

Plankton's antennas twitched 
slightly, his eye searching hers. 
"Don't know," he admitted, 
his voice barely above a whisper. 
Karen's chest tightened as she 
held back a sob. "It's ok," 
she reassured him, her voice 
shaky.

"Do you remember your name?" 
she asked, her voice hopeful.
He blinked slowly, his gaze 
fading in and out of focus, his brow 
furrowing as he concentrated. 
"Sheldon... Plankton?"
The sound of his voice saying 
his own name brought a small 
smile to Karen's face. "Yes, that's 
right," she said, her voice filled 
with relief.

"Do you remember where we live?"
she continued, her tone gentle.
Plankton's eye searched the 
ceiling of the hospital room, as if 
the answer was written there. 
"The Chum Bucket," he murmured, 
his voice unsure. Karen nodded, 
encouraged by his response.
"Good, good," she said, smiling 
weakly. "What about our friends?"

Again, the confusion clouded his 
gaze. "Friends?" he repeated, 
his voice tentative. "SpongeBob, 
Sandy...?"
"Yes," Karen said, her voice 
soft. "Do you remember them?"

Plankton's expression grew more 
distressed, his antennas drooping.
"Square...SpongeBob. And a 
squirrel, yes?" He paused, trying 
to piece together the fragmented 
memories.

Karen nodded, brimming 
with unshed tears. "Yes, SpongeBob 
SquarePants and Sandy Cheeks. They're 
friends."

Plankton's antennas twitched as he 
processed the information, his brow 
furrowing with the effort. "Friends," 
he repeated, the word sounding 
foreign. Karen could see 
the gears turning in his tiny head, 
his brain desperately trying to 
make connections to his past.

"Do you remember anything about 
your life before the accident?" Karen 
asked, her voice trembling with 
anticipation.

Plankton's eye searched hers, 
uncertain. "Life...before?"
Her heart sank. "You know, our 
adventures, our home, our love?"

He stared at her, his expression 
unreadable. "Love?" The word was 
barely a whisper.

"Yes, Plankton," she said, her 
voice cracking. "We love each other. 
We've been married for a long time, 
and we've had so many adventures 
together." She paused, willing 
the words to resonate with him, to 
ignite a spark of memory. "Do you 
remember any of that?"

Plankton's gaze remained 
vacant for a moment before he 
nodded slightly. "Married," he murmured, 
as if tasting the word for the first 
time. "To Karen." His antennas lifted 
slightly, a glimmer of something 
familiar flickering in his eye.
"Karen Plankton computer wife."
"Yes, Plankton," Karen said, her 
voice thick with emotion.
"Does that mean something to you?"
she asked, her heart in her throat.

He nodded slowly, his antennas 
waving slightly. "Computer wife,"
he murmured again, his voice 
gaining a hint of warmth. "Karen."

Karen felt a flicker of hope. 
"Yes, Plankton, I'm your 
wife." She leaned closer, her voice 
gentle. "Do you remember anything
about us?"

Plankton's antennas twitched as he 
thought. "Wife," he said slowly, 
his voice a faint echo of the man 
she knew. "Wife...Karen. Married
July 31, 1999."

That was their 
wedding day, a date they had 
celebrated every year since. "Yes," she 
whispered, her voice choking. "We
got married on July 31, 1999."

The hospital room felt thick with 
silence as she waited for his next 
words. Plankton's eye searched 
the room, his antennas twitching 
as he tried to piece together the 
shards of his past.

"Plankton, can you tell me about 
yourself?" Karen asked, her voice 
gentle. "What do you like to do?"

Plankton's antennas twitched as he 
thought. "Invent," he said, his voice 
still weak but with a hint of pride. 
"Science?"
The words came out as a question, 
as if he wasn't quite sure of his 
own identity.

"Yes," Karen said, her voice 
brightening slightly. "You're a 
genius inventor. You've made so 
many wonderful things." She 
paused, hoping to see some spark of 
recognition in his eye. "Do you 
remember any of your inventions?"

Plankton's antennas waved in 
the air, as if searching for the 
memories that remained elusive. 
"Inventions," he murmured, his 
single eye searching the ceiling. 
"Gadgets...machines."
"That's right," Karen encouraged, 
squeezing his hand. "You've created 
so many amazing machines. Can you 
describe one of them?"

He blinked, his antennas 
stilling for a moment. "Chum...Chum 
Dispenser 3000," he said, his voice 
picking up a bit. "It makes...makes 
food for fishies."
Karen's smile grew despite the 
pain. The Chum 
Dispenser 3000 was one of 
his earlier inventions, a 
failed attempt to lure customers 
to their restaurant, but it was a 
testament to his ingenuity. 
"That's wonderful, Plankton," she 
said, her voice thick with emotion.
"How about something more 
recent?" she prompted, eager to 
see how much of their shared 
history remained with him.

Plankton's antennas twitched as 
his brain worked overtime. "Um... the 
Incredibubble," he said, his voice 
picking up speed as he talked. "It's a 
bubble that can shrink things down to 
microscopic size."

Karen felt a jolt of excitement. 
"That's right!" she exclaimed, 
squeezing his hand. "You used it to 
get to find a secret plan."

Plankton's gaze remained 
distant, but there was a hint of 
curiosity in his eye. "Computer... 
plan?"
"Yes," Karen said, her voice 
shaking. "We've had so many 
adventures together, Plankton. We've 
faced so much together."

He nodded, his antennas 
twitching slightly. "Together," he 
repeated, as if testing the word 
on his tongue.

"Do you remember any of 
those adventures?" Karen 
asked, her voice trembling.
"Adventures?" Plankton's eye 
flickered, and she could almost see 
the wheels turning in his mind.
"With Karen... wife?"

"Yes, with me. We've 
traveled the ocean, faced so 
many challenges together."

The doctor came in. "You can go
home now," he said.

Karen nodded, never 
leaving Plankton's face. She had 
spoken to the doctor about his 
condition, about the autism, but 
she still wasn't sure how to 
process it all. How would their 
life change now?

"Come on, Plankton," she said, 
helping him sit up gently. "Let's 
get you home."

She buckles him into his side of the car, 
his newfound passivity making the 
usual struggle unnecessary. The 
engine of the tiny vehicle roars to 
life, and Karen guides them out of the 
hospital parking lot. 

The ride back to the Chum 
Bucket is quiet, the only sound 
being the hum of the car's engine 
and the occasional splash from 
the waves outside. Karen keeps 
glancing at Plankton, his antennas 
listless as he stares out the 
window. His mind seems to be 
somewhere else, lost in a world of 
his own making.

When they arrive, she helps 
Plankton out of the car and 
supports him as they make their 
way to the door. The neon sign 
flickers in the gloom, casting 
erratic shadows across the 
sand. The once bustling 
environment now feels eerie and 
desolate. Karen's mind is racing 
with thoughts of how to make 
this place feel like home again for 
Plankton.

new a journey to autism plaren memorycore ii

KAREN AND THE AUTISTIC JOURNEY ii
(Autistic author)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Good?" she ventured.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

new karen and the autistic journey breakfastcore ii

TEETHIES ii

The nurse dimmed lights and adjusted the bed, giving Plankton's body a chance to recover from the wisdom tooth surgery. 

Gently, Karen began to hum a tune she knew Plankton loved. The melody filled the room, wrapping around them like a warm blanket. His breathing grew a little easier, the tension in his hand loosening slightly. 

Plankton stirred, eye fluttering open to reveal a world still blurred by the fog of anesthesia. "Where... what...?" Plankton slurred. "Who... who are you?" 
"The dentist had to get your wisdom teeth out in surgery." Karen told him. "Wis...dommm...surgery? I don't...I don't remembe--- much." Plankton says. "Had to take them out. You've been asleep for a while." The nurse said. 

The door to the room creaked open to SpongeBob, his face a picture of concern. "Plankton!" he exclaimed. "How are ya?"

Plankton, still groggy from the surgery, tried to form a coherent sentence. "S-SpongeBob," he slurred. "M-more wike... 'Arrr, matey' than usual, I s'pose." 

Karen rolled her pixel eyes. "It's the anesthesia."

Plankton chuckled. "Ahoy ther- Spongey! Aye, it's awh’ 'cause of tweasare... I mean, surgery," he corrected, his speech still swaying. 
"You two are always so... " Karen trailed off, searching for the right word.

"Inseparabubble?" Plankton suggested.  
Sponge Bob's laughter bubbled up again. "You mean, no Krabby Patty stealing schemes?"

"Thath's righ'. No mow... Krabby... Patties... fow awhile." The words came out in a drawn-out slur, his head lolling slightly on the pillow. "Thath's... wath I wath thhinking," his speech still slurred but fading as his eyelid growing heavy.

"Arr, thith... thith way, me... hearty," Plankton mumbled, as the nurse helped 'em into the car.  "Arr, me... tweasuwe... home,".

Sponge Bob watched his eyelid grew heavier. Plankton's head lolled back against the seat and his mouth fell open slightly, emitting a soft snore. 

"He's gonna be out for a bit," Karen said, glancing in the rearview mirror. "The anesthesia usually takes a few hours to wear off completely. He'll be fine."

He reached out and gently patted Plankton's arm, whispering, "Don't worry, buddy. We're almost there."

"We're home, Plankton," Karen said, her voice a gentle nudge.

Sponge Bob turned to see Plankton's chest rising and falling in deep, even breaths, his mouth open in snore's. His usually scheming eye were shut tight. Karen carefully opened the door. Sponge Bob looked at Plankton, who was still out cold. Sponge Bob leaned over the seat, his arms wrapping around Plankton's frail body. Plankton's head lolled back, his mouth still open in snore's.
"Should we... should we wake him?" "Let him rest, Sponge Bob. He's had a rough day." Karen puts him on the couch.

"Do you think he'll... you know, remember any of this?" Sponge Bob asked, his voice low and tentative.
Karen's smile was a gentle wave. "I doubt it. The anesthesia usually wipes out memories for a bit."

"Rest well, honey," she whispered, kissing his forehead. "You've had a long day."

Suddenly Plankton stirs in his sleep, his snores morphing into a groan as he shifts beneath the blanket.
"Is he okay?" SpongeBob asks.
"He's okay," she nods, her voice a gentle lullaby in the stillness. "Just anesthesia wearing off." She stood by him. "Easy, Plankton," Karen cooed, gently rubbing Plankton's back. "You're okay."

The little villain's body twitched, and his eye fluttered open. For a brief moment, confusion clouded his gaze before he spotted Sponge Bob and Karen. "W-wha... whass happening?" Plankton's words were slurred, his lisp more pronounced than ever.

"You're home, Plankton. You had wisdom teeth removed."

"W-what? Did I miss... somefink?" He tried to sit up, his body moving as if through syrup.

"You've been out for a bit," Karen said. "But you're home now." 

Plankton blinked. "Home?" he mumbled.

"Yes, sweetie," Karen said, her voice a gentle caress. "You had your wisdom teeth out. You're going to be fine."
 "Oww... wha’ happened to my mouf?"

"Your wisdom teeth were out." "Oh... wight," he murmured.
"Need anything?" "Could... could I have some... ice... cweam?" His voice was a whispered plea. They get him some. "Thath's... thoothing. So, how'd I get home?" 
"Karen and I brought you back," Sponge Bob said. "You were out cold. Didn't even wake up when we carried you in."
"Did... did you two... take care of me?" His voice was a mix of surprise and vulnerability.

"Of course, Plankton!"

He turned to Plankton. "Want me to pick something to watch?"

"Mm-hmm," Plankton mumbled, eye already closing again.

Sponge Bob flicked through the tv channels, finally settling on a rerun of their favorite show, "Mermaid Man and Barnacle Boy." The familiar theme song filled the room, and Karen took a seat next to Plankton on the couch, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

As the adventure unfolded on the screen, Plankton's breathing grew deeper and more regular, his body gradually relaxing into the cushions.

"Looks like he's out again," Karen said softly.  

Sponge Bob nodded, watching Plankton's chest rise and fall rhythmically. "Guess the surgery really took it out of him."

The room grew quiet, save for the distant laugh track of their favorite show and the occasional snore from Plankton. Karen's hand remained on his shoulder, her thumb tracing small circles. At night, turning the tv off, 
Spongebob picked Plankton up, cradling him. His friend's head lolled back, his mouth slightly open in a peaceful snore. Sponge Bob carefully made his way to his bed, setting him down. He pulled the blanket up to Plankton and gave him a soft pat. 
They both settled into the makeshift beds they had set up next to Plankton's. 

The next morning, both woke up before Plankton. Karen chuckled. "We should take a picture."
Spongebob snapped a picture of Plankton, still asleep with his mouth slightly open, a trail of drool escaping onto the pillow.

"Morning, Captain Snores-a-lot," Sponge Bob whispered with a smirk, rousing Plankton.
Plankton's eye opened, only to wince. "Oww... wath... what's happening?"
"It's morning, Plankton," Karen said, her tone still gentle.
"Look your post-surgery glamour shot," Spongebob teased, holding the phone out of reach. "You were out cold last night."
Plankton's eye widened as he took in the image. "You... you took a picture of me?!" He was half horrified, half amused.

"Couldn't resist," Karen said, grinning.

Plankton rolled his eye and wiped his mouth, then winced. "How wong hav- I been out?"

"Overnight," Sponge Bob said, unable to hold back a chuckle. "You had quite the ride home yesterday."

Plankton groaned, his hand reaching up to gingerly touch his swollen cheek. "Whath happened?"

"You had your wisdom teeth out," Karen reminded him, her voice filled with a touch of amusement. "It's normal to be a bit out of it after surgery."

"Wisdom teeth?" Plankton echoed, his voice still groggy. "Oh, wight. The dentist."

Karen chuckled. "Yeah, you don't remember much, do you?"

Sponge Bob leaned in closer, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "You talked like a pirate all the way home, matey."

Plankton's eye widened in horror. "I did what?"

Sponge Bob nodded. "Yeah, you kept calling me 'Spongey' and said we were 'inseparabubble'."

Plankton blushed. "Oh, come on," he mumbled, trying to hide his face in the pillow.

Sponge Bob and Karen shared a knowing look, their laughter subsiding into a comfortable silence. They could both tell that despite his tough exterior, Plankton was a bit embarrassed.

Plankton sighed, his small body sinking deeper into the pillows. "Okay, okay," he conceded. "But if I don't get to do anything, can I at leash wash TV?"
"Of course," Karen said, handing him the remote. "But take it easy today, okay?"
With a groan, Plankton managed to sit up, his hand still tentatively exploring his tender cheeks. He squinted at the TV, searching for something to watch. His eye lit up when he found a science fiction marathon. "Jackpot," he murmured.

new teethies post awakening plankarenbob AI Story Generator ii

KAREN AND THE AUTISTIC JOURNEY vi
(Autistic author)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

new karen and the autistic journey confusedcore vi

A LIFE OF DIVERSITY vi
(Autistic author)

Plankton's sobs grew softer in Karen's embrace, his 
tiny body trembling with the weight of his emotions. 
"I-it's okay," Karen whispered, stroking his antennae 
gently. "You can like jellyfish all you want, sweetheart."

Sponge Bob watched from a distance, his heart heavy. 
He had never seen Plankton like this, vulnerable and hurt. 
He knew the two of them had their differences, but this 
was different.

Plankton's sobs grew quieter, but the pain didn't leave 
his eye. Karen held him tight, filled with a fiery 
determination. "Plankton," she whispered soothingly. 
"You don't have to change who you are because of this."

He pulled away slightly, his antennae drooping as he looked 
at her. "But what if jellyfish are all Plankton good for?" he 
murmured, his voice still monotone but filled with a depth 
of emotion that tugged at Karen's heartstrings.

"Plankton, you're more than just jellyfish," Karen said, voice 
firm yet gentle. "You're a smart, resourceful, and determined 
little creature. You've always been so much more than that."

The room was still, the only sound was Plankton's sniffs. 
His antennae drooped, and he looked up at her, his single 
eye red and puffy from crying. "But Karen," he whispered, his 
voice monotone yet filled with emotion, "it's all Plankton know 
now."

Karen's eyes shone with empathy. "That's not true, darling," she 
said, her voice soothing. "You're capable of so much more. We 
just have to figure out how to navigate this new world together."

Sponge Bob hovered awkwardly, unsure of what to do. "Is there 
anything I can do to help?" he offered.

Karen nodded, her tentacles tightening around Plankton. "Could 
you be with him while I admonish Patrick?"

"Of course," Sponge Bob said, moving closer to Plankton.

Plankton's antennae quivered slightly as he nodded.

"I'll be right outside," Karen said, her voice gentle.

Sponge Bob nodded, his gaze focused on Plankton's small 
trembling form. "I've got him," he said, his eyes filled with 
understanding and a newfound respect for the tiny creature 
before him.

As Karen left to talk to Patrick 
Sponge Bob sat down beside 
Plankton, his own heart aching 
for his friend's pain. He knew 
that Plankton was going through 
a difficult time, and he wanted to 
be there for him.

Meanwhile, outside the Chum Bucket, Karen found Patrick 
still standing there, his expression a mix of confusion and 
amusement. "Patrick," she began, her voice sharp, "You need 
to understand something."

Patrick looked at her with his usual vacant stare. "What's up, Karen?"

"You have to understand, Patrick," she began, her voice tight 
with tension. "Plankton's... he's different now."

Patrick's smile faded as he met Karen's stern gaze. "Different?"

Karen sighed, trying to find the words. "Plankton's had an... accident," 
she said. "It's changed him."

Patrick's eyes widened slightly. "What do you mean, changed?"

Karen took a deep breath, trying to find the words to explain 
the complex situation in a way that would make sense to 
someone like Patrick. "Plankton's had a... a bump on the noggin," 
she said, her tentacles gesturing to her own head. "It's affected 
the way he thinks, the way he sees the world."

Patrick's eyes widened in surprise. "Whoa, that's heavy, Karen," he 
said, his tone more serious than it had been in a long time. "Is he ok?"

"Well, he's alive," Karen said, her voice tight with frustration. "But 
he's not the same, Patrick. He's... different."

Patrick's smile faded as he took in her words, his eyes finally 
showing a glimmer of understanding. "What happened?" he 
asked, his tone serious for once.

"It's complicated, Patrick," Karen said. "But the important thing is
he's a new version of himself. So you can choose to be nice to him 
or just leave."

Patrick's face fell, the gravity of the situation finally sinking in. "But 
I didn't know, Karen," he protested, his voice small. "How was I 
supposed to know?"

"It's not about knowing, Patrick," Karen said, her voice firm. "It's about 
being a good friend. And if you can't do that, then maybe it's time for 
you to rethink what friendship really means."

Patrick's expression grew contemplative. "But Karen," he 
began, his voice tentative, "what if Plankton's... you know, not 
right in the head anymore?"

"Patrick, that's not funny," she snapped. "This isn't a game. 
This is real life. And Plankton's life has changed in ways 
you can't even begin to understand."

Patrick looked down at his feet, his usual jovial expression 
replaced by one of contemplation. "I didn't mean to be a jerk," 
he mumbled.

"I know you didn't mean to," Karen said, her tone 
softening slightly. "But you need to be more considerate."

Patrick nodded, his cheeks flushing. "I'll be nicer," he 
promised, his eyes darting to the Chum Bucket door.

"Good," Karen said firmly, then turned back to the Chum Bucket. 
She opened the door to find Plankton still on the floor, clutching 
the jellyfish book. His antennae perked up as she entered.

Sponge Bob looked up, his expression a mix of sadness and 
determination. "I think he's okay."

Plankton sniffled, his antennae drooping. "Jellyfish," he 
murmured, his voice a monotone whisper.

Karen's expression softened as she saw the pain in his eye. "It's 
okay, Plankton," she said, her tentacles reaching out to comfort 
him. "You don't have to be anything other than who you are."

Sponge Bob nodded in agreement. "You're still the same Plankton 
we know and love." 

new a life of diversity jellycore vi

A JOURNEY TO AUTISM vi

(Autistic author)

Sponge Bob's heart 
swells with compassion. 
"It's ok, Plankton," he 
says, his voice gentle. "We 
don't have to play anymore."

Plankton's antennas 
drop, and he nods slowly. 
"No fish," he repeats, 
his voice a sigh of 
relief.

Sponge Bob's hand 
freezes in mid-air, 
his eyes searching 
Plankton's face for 
any sign of anger or 
disappointment. But all 
he sees is a glimmer of 
understanding in his 
friend's eye.

"Thank Sponge 
Bob for being patient."
Plankton says to him.

Sponge Bob nods, his 
eyes still filled with 
concern. "I'll be patient, 
Plankton," he promises. "Can
I ask how you hit your head?"

Plankton's antennas 
lift slightly. "Pan," he 
murmurs, his voice 
barely above a whisper. 
"Fry pan, Mr. Krabs. Only
Karen and SpongeBob know."

Sponge Bob's eyes 
widen with shock. "What?!"
he exclaims. "Mr. Krabs 
hurt you?"

Plankton nods, his antennas 
still low. "Pan," he repeats, 
his voice shaking. "Pan," he 
says again, his voice 
softer. "Krabs hit on head."
Sponge Bob's anger 
towards Mr. Krabs is 
immediate and intense. 
"I can't believe he'd do 
that to you," he says, 
his voice low and 
teary.

"Mr. Krabs did to protect
the krabby patty." 
Karen interjects quickly, 
sensing the tension. 
"He doesn't know how
badly he hurt Plankton."

Sponge Bob's eyes narrow, 
his thoughts racing. He can't
believe Mr. Krabs could 
do something like that, even 
in the heat of the moment.

"I'll talk to Mr. Krabs," 
he says firmly, his voice 
laced with determination. 
"He needs to know what..."

"No!"

The sharpness of Plankton's 
voice cuts through the 
air like a knife, his 
antennas shooting up in 
alarm. "Mr. Krabs no," he 
says, his eye wide with fear. 
"No tell."

Sponge Bob's anger 
fades slightly, replaced 
by confusion. "Why not?" 
he asks, his voice 
gentle. "He needs to know 
so he can understand.."

Plankton's antennas 
quiver anxiously. "Krabs 
not know," he whispers, his 
eye pleading with Sponge 
Bob. "Safe here."

Sponge Bob's 
confusion deepens. "But 
Plankton, if Mr. Krabs 
doesn't know, how will he 
make it up to you?"
Plankton's antennas 
droop, his eye darting 
back and forth between 
Karen and Sponge Bob. "No 
make up," he murmurs. "Just 
no satisfaction for Krabs."
Sponge Bob's mind 
spins with the implications. 
He knows Mr. Krabs 
would never hurt 
anyone that much 
intentionally, even Plankton;
but the thought of his 
boss not knowing the 
extent of his actions 
troubles him.
"I won't tell him," 
Sponge Bob says, his voice 
soft with reassurance.
But of course, Mr. Krabs
comes in. "What in the
name of Neptune are
ye doing? I gave ye the
day off yesterday!"
"The Krusty Krab is closed on
Sunday, and it's Sunday today."
SpongeBob reminds his boss.
"Oh, right." Mr. Krabs looks
at Plankton and his eyes narrow.
"What's going on here?" he asks,
suspicion heavy in his voice.
Plankton's antennas droop even
lower, and he looks down at the
floor.
Plankton speaks first. "Go 
fish," he whispers, his 
eye darting up to meet 
Mr. Krabs'. Sponge Bob steps in 
quickly, trying to cover 
for his friend. "We were 
just playing a game," he 
says, forcing a smile.
Mr. Krabs eyes them 
both skeptically.
"Well, I hope it wasn't 
about stealing me secret 
formular," he says, his 
claws tapping 
nervously.
"No, Mr. Krabs," Sponge 
Bob says quickly, "just a 
friendly game."
Plankton's antennas 
twitch slightly at the 
mention of the Krabby 
Patty formula, but he 
remains silent.
Mr. Krabs' eyes 
narrow further.
"What's wrong with 
you, Plankton?" he 
asks, his voice filled 
with concern and a 
touch of irritation.
"You're acting strangely
quiet even for you."
Plankton's antennas 
quiver.
Sponge Bob's heart 
paces. He doesn't want 
to betray Plankton's trust.
"It's nothing," Plankton 
says, his voice 
forced. "Just a little 
game, Krabs wanna play."
"Fine I'll play, but I got my
eye on ye, Plankton."
Mr. Krabs says, his tone 
still suspicious as he 
sits down to join them. 
Sponge Bob's eyes dart to 
Karen, who gives a 
nod of understanding. 
They'll keep the secret and
hope Mr. Krabs doesn't figure
it out.

"Let's play Uno!" Sponge
Bob says, getting out the new
card game, dealing the cards.
Plankton's antennas 
perk up at the mention 
of a new game, and he 
eagerly takes his cards. 
Mr. Krabs grumbles but 
plays along, eyeing Plankton 
carefully.
Then, it happens.
Mr. Krabs slaps a card 
down on the pile and 
excitedly yells, "Uno!"
Plankton's antennas shoot 
straight up, and his eye 
widen with sensory 
overload.
Sponge Bob's concerned, 
but Mr. Krabs 
is too busy gloating to 
notice. "Yee-haw!" he 
crows. "I win again!"
Plankton's antennas 
quiver as he tries to 
process the sudden 
loudness and change in 
the atmosphere. 
Mr. Krabs looks at him, 
his expression puzzled.
"What's the matter, 
Plankton?" he asks, 
his voice laced with 
disdain. "Lost your 
competitive spirit?"
Sponge Bob's eyes widen.
"Plankton's just 
excited, Mr. Krabs," he 
says quickly. "Isn't that right, 
Plankton?"
Plankton's antennas 
wave erratically, and 
his voice is a mix of 
fear and confusion. 
"Yes, Krabs," he stammers, 
his eye darting around 
the room. "Uno. Fish. Yes."
Mr. Krabs looks at him 
oddly but shrugs it off, 
his attention already 
returning to the game. 
"Alright, let's keep playing," 
he says, dealing out 
more cards.
But Plankton's mind is elsewhere, 
his antennas twitching with 
the effort to keep up.
"Fish," he murmurs to 
himself, trying to find 
a familiar 
word. His hands 
shake as he holds 
his cards, the 
world around him a 
cacophony of sensory 
overload.
Sponge Bob notices 
Plankton's distress and 
quickly changes the 
topic. "Hey, Mr. Krabs, 
have you ever played 
Chess?"
Mr. Krabs' eyes 
light up. "Chess? The 
game of kings and 
conquers!" he exclaims. 
"I'd love a round!"
SpongeBob gets
the chess game.

The chess pieces are set 
up, and Mr. Krabs 
begins to play, his 
claws clacking against 
the board as he moves 
his pieces. Plankton 
watches, his antennas 
still, his eye 
focused.
"Your move, Plankton," 
Mr. Krabs says, his 
claws tapping the 
edge of the board 
impatiently.

But Plankton doesn't 
move. He just sits there, 
staring at the 
chessboard, his cards 
forgotten in his hand. 
"What's with you?" 
Mr. Krabs asks, 
his voice filled with 
exasperation. "You're 
taking forever!"

Sponge Bob's heart 
skips a beat. He knows 
he can't let Mr. Krabs 
see how much Plankton's 
been affected by the 
accident. "It's ok 
Mr. Krabs," he says 
quickly. "Plankton's just 
thinking of his next 
move."

Mr. Krabs grumbles but 
doesn't push the issue. 
He's too focused on 
his own strategy, his 
claws moving pieces with 
calculated precision.
But Plankton remains 
frozen, his gaze 
unwavering on the 
board. His antennas 
twitch slightly, a 
sign of his racing 
thoughts.

After several moments of 
silence, Mr. Krabs 
finally snaps. "Plankton,
it's your turn!" he says, 
his patience wearing 
thin.

Plankton's antennas 
twitch, and his eye 
flits to the board. 
"Fish?" he asks, his 
voice unsure.
Mr. Krabs stares at 
Plankton, his eyes 
narrowing. "What do 
fish have to do with 
chess?" he asks, 
confusion etched 
deeply on his face.

Sponge Bob's heart 
sinks as he sees the 
puzzlement in Mr. 
Krabs' eyes. He 
quickly jumps in. "Oh, 
Plankton was just 
thinking out loud," he 
says, trying to 
lighten the mood.

Mr. Krabs grunts, 
but his suspicion 
doesn't fade. "You've 
always been a weird 
little fellow, Plankton, but 
this is something else," 
he says, his tone a mix 
of curiosity and 
exasperation.

Sponge Bob's heart 
thumps in his chest 
as he tries to 
diverge the conversation. 
"Why don't we talk 
about something else?" 
he suggests, his eyes 
darting back to the 
chessboard.

Mr. Krabs' gaze 
remains on Plankton, 
his eyes narrowed. 
But Plankton's antennas 
remain still, his 
expression vacant.
"Fish," he murmurs, 
his voice distant.

Mr. Krabs' patience 
thins to a thread. 
"Fish?" he repeats, his 
confusion palpable. 
"What's going on with 
you, Plankton?"

Plankton's antennas 
wobble, his eye
still fixated on the 
board. "Fish," he says 
again, his voice 
uncertain.

Mr. Krabs leans 
forward, his eyes 
studying Plankton 
closely. "You okay, 
tiny fry?" he asks, 
hinting concern 
despite the 
sarcasm.

Plankton's antennas 
quiver slightly. "Fish," 
he says, his voice 
barely above a 
whisper. Sponge Bob's 
heart clenches at the 
word, understanding 
now that it's not just 
a game for Plankton; it's 
his way of trying to 
make sense of the 
world around him.

Mr. Krabs, however, 
simply sighs and shakes 
his head. "You always 
have to make everything 
so complicated," he 
mumbles, his voice 
tired. "Why can't you just 
play the game like 
everyone else?" He yells
tipping the board over to
where the chess pieces
fall to the ground by Plankton.

Plankton's antennas 
shiver at the sound, and 
his eye dart to the 
upset board, his 
expression one of deep 
distress. "No fish," he 
whispers, his voice 
breaking.
Mr. Krabs' eyes widen, 
his suspicion growing. 
"What's going on with 
you?" he asks again.

"Fish, fish, fish!" 

new a journey to autism gamefic vi

NEUROBEHAVIORAL PLANKTON vi
(Autistic author) (see notes below)
* ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴs ᴏғ ᴅɪsᴄʀɪᴍɪɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴ
Plankton's eye 
closed slowly, his 
breathing evening out 
under her calming 
touch. His body 
relaxed into the 
cushions of the couch, 
his mind still racing 
but his body succumbing 
to the siren call of 
sleep. The smoothie 
and Karen's comforting 
presence had 
worked their magic.

Karen sat beside 
him, 
wrapped protectively 
around his small 
form. She watched 
his chest rise and 
fall with each 
breath, her heart 
heavy with the weight 
of the day's events. 
The Chum Bucket 
was quiet now, the 
silence a stark 
contrast to the 
shouts and sobs that 
had filled it moments 
before. Karen's
heart breaks for Plankton
yet she knows Hanna's
never met him, never heard
of the accident nor diagnosis.

With a sigh, she 
picked up the phone 
that lay on the 
end table and 
dialed Hanna's number. 
The line rang once, 
twice, three times 
before Hanna's 
voice filled the 
line. "Hello?"

Karen took a 
deep breath, 
steeling herself for 
the conversation 
she had to have. "Hanna, 
it's me," she 
said, her voice 
calm despite the 
whirlwind inside her.
"I need to talk to 
you about what 
happened."

Hanna's tone 
shifted immediately, 
concern lacing her 
words. "Is Plankton 
okay?"

Karen's grip 
on the phone 
tightened. "No," she 
admitted, her voice 
a whisper. "He's 
asleep now, but he's 
not okay."

Hanna's voice 
was a mix of 
shock and 
disbelief. "What do 
you mean?"

Karen took 
another deep 
breath, her eyes 
never leaving 
Plankton's peaceful 
face. "There was 
an accident," she 
began, her voice 
steady. "He hit his 
head and..." She 
swallowed the lump 
in her throat. "Acquired 
Autism Spectrum Disorder."

The line was 
silent for a 
moment before 
Hanna's voice 
came back, filled 
with horror. "Oh 
Neptune, I had 
no idea!"

Karen's tentacles 
trembled slightly 
as she recounted 
the doctor's words, 
the diagnosis that 
had turned their 
world upside down. "It's 
permanent," she 
whispered. "They said 
his corpus callosum 
and cerebellum were 
damaged. He's...he's 
not the same, Hanna."

On the phone, 
Hanna's voice 
was a mix of 
sympathy and 
confusion. "But 
why didn't you tell 
me sooner?"

Karen's sigh 
was heavy with 
regret. "We've 
been dealing with 
this alone," she 
explained, her tentacle 
tracing patterns 
on the couch cushion. 
"It's so new, so 
overwhelming."

Hanna's voice 
was gentle now, 
understanding in a 
way that made Karen 
feel less alone. 
"I'm so sorry, Karen," 
she said, her 
concern genuine. "I 
had no idea."

Karen's 
eyes remained 
locked on Plankton's 
face, his chest rising 
and falling with 
each breath. "It's 
been a rollercoaster," 
she admitted, her 
voice tight. "But 
we're trying to 
make the best of it."

Karen hangs up and
turns her focus back to
Plankton, his small 
body curled tightly 
under the blanket.
She notices 
the way his 
antenna twitches 
as if he's dreaming.

Her hands 
gently adjust the 
blanket, her touch 
feather-light against 
his skin. Plankton's 
face is a mask of 
peace in sleep, a stark 
contrast to the 
turmoil of the 
waking world. His 
snores are faint, a 
soothing rhythm 
that fills the 
otherwise silent room.

Just as Karen 
begins to relax, 
the door to the Chum 
Bucket bursts open, 
letting in a rush 
of sunlight and 
SpongeBob's 
unmistakable 
laughter. "Plankton?" 
he calls out, his 
voice high and 
cheerful.

Sponge Bob's 
entrance is a 
whirlwind of 
energy, a stark 
contrast to the 
heavy silence that 
hangs over the 
laboratory. He 
doesn't notice the 
tension in the 
air as he bounds 
towards the couch, 
his eyes widening 
in surprise when he 
sees Plankton's 
unusual position.

"Whoa, Plankton," 
Sponge Bob says, 
his voice a 
chirp of curiosity. 
"Looks like you're 
taking a siesta!" 
He laughs, not 
comprehending the 
depth of emotion 
that has just 
played out in 
the room.

Karen looks 
up from her 
watchful vigil, 
her eyes tired but 
determined. "Sponge 
Bob," she says, 
keeping her voice 
steady, "Plankton's 
not feeling well."

Sponge Bob's 
face falls, his 
cheerfulness 
dimming. "Oh no," 
he says, his 
concern genuine. 
He approaches 
the couch with 
caution, his eyes 
fixed on Plankton's 
peaceful form.

"What happened?" 
he asks, his 
voice hushed. 
"Is he okay?"

Karen's eyes 
meet Sponge Bob's, 
full of a sorrow 
he can't quite 
comprehend. "It's 
been a...difficult 
day," she says, her 
tentacles tightening 
slightly around 
Plankton. "He had 
an accident."

Sponge Bob's 
expression shifts 
from confusion to 
alarm. "Is he 
going to be okay?" 
he asks, his voice 
filled with 
concern. Karen 
sighs, her tentacle 
stroking Plankton's 
forehead in a 
soothing motion. 
"He's just...different 
now," she says, her 
voice tight.

Sponge Bob 
frowns, his 
bubbles popping 
with worry. "What 
kind of different?"

Karen's 
expression is 
guarded, her 
eyes never leaving 
Plankton's sleeping 
form. "He's been 
diagnosed with... 
autism," she 
whispers, the word 
sounding foreign 
even to her.

"Hey, I was born with
idiopathic Autism!" 
Sponge Bob says.

"Well Plankton's got
an acquired form, it's
a rarity," Karen 
explains to Sponge
Bob, her voice 
barely a murmur so 
as not to disturb 
the sleeping Plankton.
Sponge Bob nods 
slowly, his 
understanding of 
the situation 
deepening with 
each word.

"So his accident gave
him autism; when?"

"Yesterday, when he hit 
his head on an invention."

Sponge Bob's eyes 
widen with realization. 
"Oh," he says, 
his voice filled with 
sympathy.

He sits down 
on the floor 
beside the couch.

"It's okay, Karen," 
Sponge Bob says 
softly, his eyes 
full of 
understanding. "We'll 
figure this out 
together."

Plankton stirs 
beneath the 
blanket, his 
small form 
shifting slightly.

Karen's gaze 
snaps to him.

"Plankton?" she 
whispers, her 
tentacles poised 
to comfort him if 
his distress 
resurfaces. But his 
eye remains closed, 
his breathing even.

Sponge Bob's 
expression is 
thoughtful as he 
looks at the 
sleeping Plankton. 
"You know, Karen, 
being different isn't 
so bad," he says 
gently. "I mean, 
look at me."

Karen's tentacles 
relax slightly 
as she looks at 
Sponge Bob, his 
optimism a balm 
to her weary 
spirit. Karen smiles.
"Tell that to Hanna,"
Karen mutters to
herself.

"Who's Hanna?"

"A friend," Karen
explained, her 
voice still tight. 
"She came over 
today, didn't know 
about Plankton's 
diagnosis. She said 
things she shouldn't 
have."

Sponge Bob's 
frown deepens. 
"What kind of 
things?"

"She said 
he's a burden, 
that maybe I should 
put him in an 
institution," she 
whispers, her voice 
shaking with anger.

Sponge Bob's 
face falls in shock. 
"That's not 
right, Karen," 
he says firmly. "You 
don't have to 
listen to her. What's an
institution?"

"It's a place where 
clinically crazy people
are sent to rehabilitation
be 'taken care of.' But 
it's not like that 
really for neurodivergent
people. It's more like 
a...a prison where they 
deprive them, and 
often...never make it.
But mostly it's for people
who are violent, which isn't
the case for..."

Her voice trails off as
Plankton stirs again, 
his antennae twitching 
slightly.

Sponge Bob looks at 
Plankton, his eyes 
filled with 
compassion. "He's not 
going anywhere, Karen," 
he says firmly. "You guys 
are like family to 
me. I'll help you 
take care of him."

Plankton's single 
eye opens slightly, 
his gaze unfocused.

"Shh, it's okay," 
she whispers, her 
voice a soothing 
caress.

Plankton blinks 
slowly, his eye 
coming into focus 
as he sees Sponge 
Bob.

A smile 
spreads across his 
face, a rare 
expression of pure 
joy that lights up 
his features. His 
body uncoils from 
its tense curl, 
his antennae 
perking up with 
excitement.

"Sponge Bob," 
Plankton whispers, 
his voice filled with 
a warmth that 
surprises Karen. 
He sits up slowly, 
his movements 
calculated to 
avoid any jolts 
to his sensitive 
system.

Sponge Bob's face 
splits into a 
beaming smile, 
his eyes 
shining with 
joy. "Hey, Plankton!" 
He says.

Plankton's gaze 
remains fixed on 
Sponge Bob, his 
expression a 
mixture of 
gratitude and 
comfort. "You're 
here," he says 
simply, his voice 
a rough whisper.

Sponge Bob nods, 
his smile never 
wavering. "Of course 
I am," he says, 
his voice gentle. 
He reaches out 
a hand tentatively, 
his movements 
slow and deliberate.

Plankton's antennae 
twitch, then he 
reaches out, 
his grip firm but 
not too tight. 
The two of them 
sit there, 
the silence 
comforting rather 
than oppressive.



**NOTEs As an autistic
writer (and I used AI to
help me with the words)
I do not encourage the
ableism people have
shown in their ignorance.
Depending on when and
where you live, some
people have thought 
such therapies might be
good, without actually
accepting nor helping.
Even Hans Asperger
has supported eugenics
during the war, sending
people to internment
camps leading to demise.
I came across the site 
autismmemorial.wordpress.com
if you'd like to educate yourself
about how people have
endured such.*

new neurobehavioral plankton comfortfic vi

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Plankton's antennae quiver, his eye blinking rapidly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Plankton's antennae quiver.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

new the life of unity jellyfishcore ii

Any moment now...
Are you sure this is what you want?
(Scoff) Oh spare me your spin, you tablet tabloid.
If you want to psychoanalyze someone, don't look at me-

Look at them! It's so pathetic,
How they run to fetch their sticks…
Sure, call me polemic, unsympathetic,
At least I know other tricks!

Look at me and all you'll see is the debris of some defective outcast,
A frenetic, antithetic (if poetic) little iconoclast,
But I won't live in the past.

(I almost won this game once, you know.)
But.

History is rearranged just to credit those who win the glory,
So reality is changed in the edit when they spin the story,
And we choose, to feel this pain,
And we lose, more than we gain...

But I will BREAK this cycle,
Of mistakes, unlike all,
Of these SNAKES whom I call to condemn!

If I can't win the prize,
I'll play this last reprisal!
Just to bring their lies all to an end… -Ack!

You need regeneration.
Unfortunately, I don't have much faith in that process.
Of course not.
Why "of course not?".
You believe yourself to be incapable of starting over, in more ways than one.
I do not know who you lost, but is it not possible to get them back?

"Clear the slate, start again",
Are you hearing how preposterous that sounds?
How do you not comprehend that for someone with my MONSTROUS BACKGROUND,
the whole slate has fallen apart!

Taco that is not true.
There are other ways to-

IT’S TOO LATE-

It's not too late,

FOR ME TO RESTART!

But it's not I, its they,
(Let us talk about it when your),
Who deign to play this game, so,
(head is not so clouded. You're no),
Cruel & inhumane, base & uncouth,
(menace, Taco, how did they hurt you?)
(Please think this through)

I think they're too afraid to,
(Feeling double-crossed is part of),
Bear the bed they've made,
(Dealing with a loss, yes, but the),
Can't bring themselves to face the awful truth.
(Healing is a process, that's the truth)

So I'm turning up the heat to "sauté",
I've a beef to get grilled,
But I fully guarantee today that all the beans that get spilled,
Won't be mine,
No I'm fine,

I-

Shhhh...
Now it's time...

new ii inanimate insanity osc

🇮🇻🇻🇮🇮

new viii sevener xviii iv eighteen 7 8

8ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁☾

new march eight viii month mars march 1 coquette

WHERES ALL THE YOYLE CAKE LOVING BFB/BFDI/II/BFDIA/TPOT 
FANZ >_< ;; NEW WRITTER MIMI<3

*teleportz to mimi* you hav zummoned me. (im a bfb fan and im ztarting to watch hfjone lulz)
-zombie gutz ^_^

new zombie gutz bfb ii object shows bfdi bfdia tpot hfjone one

if u like bfdi or inanimate insanity OR ANY OBJECTSHOW plz dm me on pinterest 😞 Pic0cooreee11😐𝒻𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓀𝓎

new bfdi objectshow inanimate insanity ii hfjone iii

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⢞⢦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣦⣀⣠⠞⠁⢸⢀⠙⢦⡀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⡀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢈⣿⣧⢀⠴⢃⠓⣌⠠⠙⢦⡀⣾⡟⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⣉⣻⡆
⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣸⣿⠄⢣⡉⠖⡄⢓⢅⠂⡙⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⣿⡇
⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣇⠐⡤⢀⢤⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠄⣀⢀⠠⣊⣼⣿⠘⣄⠚⢤⠉⡖⡨⢑⣄⢿⣇⠀⣀⢀⢠⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡘⣰⣿⠇
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠿⠿⣿⡅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡘⢤⣿⡿⠿⢟⠡⣊⠤⣉⠆⢣⠔⡡⢣⠄⡙⢿⢿⣿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠘⣤⣾⠟⠁⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠆⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡘⠴⣿⡧⢉⠆⡱⡐⢢⠡⠚⡄⢎⡑⢢⠑⣌⣶⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡐⢤⣿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠇⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡘⡔⣿⣇⠣⣘⠡⠜⡡⢊⠕⡨⢂⠜⣠⣿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠔⣡⣼⠿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠰⡌⣿⣇⠒⢤⡉⣒⠡⢃⠜⡠⣃⣾⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⢔⣡⣾⠿⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠇⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠱⡌⣿⡧⢉⠆⠴⡁⢎⠰⣨⣶⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠔⣡⣾⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠇⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠱⡌⣿⣇⠣⣘⠡⡘⣤⣿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⣑⣾⡿⣏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠱⡌⣿⡧⠑⡄⣣⣾⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⢊⣴⣿⠛⣄⠈⠳⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣿⠇⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢱⡘⣿⣇⣣⣾⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⢊⣴⣿⠟⣠⠙⣄⠓⣅⠈⠳⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠞⠁⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢢⠱⣿⣿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⢊⣴⣿⠟⢡⡘⠤⡩⢐⢣⡐⠓⣅⠈⠳⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⣠⠞⠁⢀⢼⣿⠆⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢢⢙⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⢊⣴⣿⠟⡡⢊⠖⣈⠖⡡⢃⠆⣉⠖⡨⢑⢆⠈⠳⣄⠀⠀⠀
⠀⣠⠞⠁⢀⡴⢉⠼⣿⡃⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢂⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⢊⣴⣿⠟⡡⢊⡔⢣⠘⡄⠎⡔⡡⠚⡄⢎⡑⢣⢌⠱⢆⠈⠳⣄⠀
⢾⣷⣶⣶⡁⡆⢇⢸⣿⡁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡎⠰⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⢏⣿⡿⢁⠎⡁⢇⠸⣀⢉⢰⠉⡰⢁⠷⡈⢆⡸⢰⠈⠶⣈⣷⣶⣾⡷
⠀⠙⢷⣭⢟⣮⡰⢸⣿⡅⠐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡄⢲⣵⡿⡋⢆⡩⢒⡉⢆⠱⢂⠥⢊⠴⣁⠣⢂⡍⠢⠔⡡⢊⣴⡿⣯⡿⠋⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣶⡹⢮⣿⠆⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⡶⠷⢾⣿⡏⢢⠱⢌⡰⢡⡘⢌⢒⡉⢆⣉⠒⠤⢃⠣⢌⠱⣈⣴⣿⣻⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣽⣿⡃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⠃⠀⠀⢠⡿⡑⢢⢃⠲⢄⠣⣘⠰⢊⠔⡊⢤⠙⡌⡌⠱⣈⡶⣟⣿⡾⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣿⡅⠐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⢹⣿⣤⣤⣤⡾⠗⣈⠦⡑⢪⢄⡓⠤⠓⡌⣒⡉⠦⡑⠰⣈⣵⡾⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣢⣼⣿⠟⣉⣍⠩⢔⠣⣌⢢⢑⠢⣌⠘⡌⢓⡘⢤⡘⢤⡁⣧⣿⢯⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡆⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⢒⣾⣛⣛⠛⠛⠛⢛⣿⠃⣶⣟⣛⠛⠛⠛⠻⣮⣦⣼⡾⠛⠛⠛⢿⣿⣋⣠⡾⠛⠛⠛⠛⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡆⠐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⢊⣴⣿⠟⣻⡟⠀⠀⠀⣾⡇⢡⠙⣿⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⠃⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⢚⣤⣿⠟⡡⢺⣿⠀⠀⠀⣰⡟⢄⠣⣸⡿⠁⠀⢀⣾⠛⡟⣻⣿⡟⠀⠀⢠⡿⠛⠛⠛⣿⠃⠀⠀⣰⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡆⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⢘⣰⣿⠟⣡⠚⢄⣿⠃⠀⠀⢀⣿⠃⡜⢠⣿⠇⠀⠀⣸⡟⣤⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⣾⠃⠀⠀⣰⡏⠀⠀⢀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡆⠐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⢄⣱⣾⡿⢧⡘⡄⢃⣾⡏⠀⠀⠀⣾⡇⢸⢈⣼⡏⠀⠀⢰⣿⣾⣟⡿⣻⠇⠀⠀⢸⡏⠀⠀⢀⣿⠀⠀⠀⣼⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠆⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠔⣡⣾⠟⠙⢿⣳⡝⢮⣰⡿⠀⠀⠀⣰⡟⡄⢣⢸⡿⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⡿⠋⢰⡟⠀⠀⢠⡿⠀⠀⠀⣼⠃⠀⠀⢠⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣇⠐⡠⢄⠠⠠⢔⣡⣾⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣧⣿⢃⡀⣀⢀⡛⣿⡧⢡⣿⣃⣀⣀⣸⣻⡏⠀⠀⣾⣁⣀⣀⣜⣿⠆⠀⢠⣟⣀⣀⣀⣛⣿⠆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣟⢿⣻⠛⡛⢛⠡⢂⣽⡿⣿⡿⠋⠉⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢷⣽⣹⢬⡂⣱⣾⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢷⣧⢻⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

new vim neovim code vi emacs text editor unix ed linux vim logo dot art text art ascii art

⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⣤⣴⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠿⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣶⣤⣄⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⣶⣾⣿⣿⡿⠿⠛⠋⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠉⠛⠻⠿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣦⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣶⣿⣿⣿⡟⠋⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⢶⣦⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⠿⣿⣿⣷⣦⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣾⣿⣿⡿⣟⡋⠚⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣿⣦⠀⠀⠀⣸⣶⡀⠈⠙⠻⢿⣿⣷⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⣿⣿⣿⢫⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⡇⠀⠀⣿⣿⠓⢦⡀⠀⠀⠙⠛⢿⣿⣶⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣾⣿⣿⣿⣷⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⠻⣿⣆⣿⣿⣦⣤⣤⣤⣤⣶⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣷⣤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⣿⣿⢟⣾⠟⠁⠀⠀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⡏⠀⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⠿⠛⠛⠉⠉⠉⠉⠻⣿⣿⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⢠⣾⣿⡿⢡⣿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠟⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠉⠉⠻⢿⣤⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣿⣿⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⡟⣵⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⡀⠀⠙⢿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣿⣿⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⡟⢠⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣤⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣴⣀⣹⣿⣯⡄⠀⠀⠙⢿⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⢁⣾⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⠁⠀⠀⣴⣿⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⡄⠀⠀⠘⢿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⠇⢸⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⢀⣤⣾⠏⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⡿⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣋⣩⣧⣶⡿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣿⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⠁⠀⠘⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣴⣾⣿⣿⠿⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠻⠋⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀
⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣿⡏⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣷⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣴⣶⡾⠿⠛⠛⠋⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀
⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣦⠀⠈⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀
⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀
⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣴⡿⠟⠋⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀
⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣴⣿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡆⠀⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀
⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣼⣿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀
⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⣿⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⡇⣠⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀
⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⣿⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡶⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣶⣤⣤⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢴⣶⣛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⡇⣿⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀
⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣼⣿⣿⡿⠋⠉⠛⠿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣼⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀
⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣽⣿⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢉⣙⠛⣛⡛⠛⠛⠋⣿⣿⣿⣟⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣵⣿⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀
⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣰⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⣿⣿⣤⣤⣤⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣿⣿⣧⣄⠀⠀⠀
⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⡿⠿⠿⠿⠛⠛⠛⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⢿⣿⣷⣄⠀
⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢻⣿⣿⣆
⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣹⣿⣿
⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣿⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⡟
⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⣿⣷⣦⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣴⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣦⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣄⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣤⣤⣶⣾⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀
⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠛⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⠿⠿⠟⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀
⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

new ii inanimate insanity kawaii coquette uhmmmmmm goo iii dot art text art ascii art

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 𝟷,𝟼𝟸𝟷

Karen walked into the 
bedroom. Plankton lay 
on their bed, 
face half-buried in 
a pillow. His snores 
rumbled through the 
quiet room. She took a 
moment to appreciate 
his vulnerability before 
she gently nudged him 
awake. He groaned, his 
eye fluttering open. She offered 
a soft smile. "It's time," 
she whispered.
"You're fine."
He nodded.

The drive to the oral
surgeon's office was tense.
The brightness
of the day seemed to mock
his anxiety.

Karen's hand squeezed
his, a silent promise of
support. As they checked in, the
receptionist's smile was
practiced, but kind.

The exam room
surgeon, a man named Dr.
Musselwhite, came in.
He explained the procedure
once more. 

The nurse began
preparing anesthesia.

"You're doing great,"
Plankton took a deep breath,
vision blurring. The
last thing he saw was
Karen's face before the
world went dark.

Karen watched the
monitors as Plankton's
breathing evened out. She clutched
his hand, her thumb
making small circles on
his palm. Plankton's
snores had been replaced
by the steady rhythm of
his breathing under anesthesia.

She leaned
forward to Plankton's still form.
Her screen traced the
IV line. 

Plankton's mouth was open
Dr. Musselwhite peered into. Plankton
twitched slightly in his sleep,
but the doctor's hand remained
steady.
Plankton's chest continued 
to rise and fall
steadily, oblivious to the
battle being fought within
his mouth.

Dr. Musselwhite finished stitching.

"It's done," he announced.

"You did it," she murmured,
voice cracking.

Plankton lay still, his breathing
even and deep. 

The surgery was over, and he
was alive. Karen leaned down to
kiss his forehead.

The nurse smiles. "He'll be
asleep for awhile," she said.

Karen nodded.
The only sounds were the
whispers of medical staff
and the hum of machinery.

The nurse wheeled him into
recovery, and Karen followed, the
medication still working its
magic.

Plankton's features were
relaxed in sleep, a stark
contrast to the fear that had
been etched there just hours
before.
Plankton's chest rose and fell
in a steady rhythm, a silent
testament to the successful
procedure by the
deep embrace of anesthesia.

As he started to stir, the
nurse offered a gentle smile as he
began to come around.

Plankton's eye fluttered open,
his gaze unfocused and glassy.
He blinked slowly.

"Hi, sweetheart," Karen's voice
was a warm embrace. 

"Whaa-...happen'd?" he mumbled.

"You're ok," Karen said softly.
"They took your wisdom teeth out."

Plankton tries to piece together the
fragments of his memory. 

He attempted to speak. "Ow?" he
managed.

Karen squeezed his hand.

Plankton's head
lolling slightly against the
pillow. His mouth felt like a
foreign landscape. Karen helped 
him sit up, the nurse
getting gauze.
"You're going to need to
bite down," she said,
handing him a piece of gauze.
"It'll help with the bleeding."

He pressed
it to his mouth, the pressure
sending a dull throb through
his jaw.

"Hold it there," the nurse instructed,
her voice a gentle guide in
his foggy world. "Keep the
pressure steady. It'll help
the bleeding to stop."

Plankton nodded, his movements
sluggish. 

The nurse handed Karen an ice
pack. "This'll help," she said. 

"It's ok,"
she soothed. "You're all
done. The hard part is over."

Plankton nodded again, his
brain still foggy from the
remaining anesthesia.

He looked around 
the recovery
room, his gaze
wondering.

"Whath's thith?"
Plankton pointed
at a machine.
Karen chuckled, the
tension easing from
her shoulders.
"It's just monitoring
you."

He nodded, his
eye still filled with
wonder. He looked
down at his hand,
studying it as if it
was the first time he'd
seen it. "Thith...han,"
he said, his voice trailing
off as he wiggled his
fingers.

"Yes, Plankton.
That's your hand."

He's mouth filled with gauze
and drool slowly seeping out.

"Karen?" he mumbles, his
voice thick and groggy. "Wha's?" 
He points to 
instruments.

"They're just tools the
doctor used to help you,"
she explains gently.

Plankton nods, his curiosity
satisfied for the moment.
His eye drift to the ceiling. 
"Why do the wight
hab funny shapes?"

Karen follows his gaze.
"They're just patterns,
Plankton. They help the
ceiling look nice."

He nods, the concept of
aesthetics lost on him.
The nurse returns to check
his vitals. Plankton
watches her with the same
curiosity.

"Whath thoze do?" He points
to the stethoscope around
her neck, his speech still
slurred.

The nurse chuckles. "It's how
we listen to your heart."

Plankton nodded, his gaze
following as she placed the
stethoscope on his chest. 
"Ca-- heaw it?" He
asked, his curiosity
unquenchable.
"That's your heart beating."
Plankton's eye grew
even wider, the
revelation a spark in the
haze. "Wow," he whispered,
his voice a mere breath.
Karen watched
his exploration with a
mixture of amusement and
affection.

The nurse returned with
discharge instructions, her
words a blur to Plankton's
still-numb mind. Karen took
the papers.

"Alright, let's get you
ready to go home," she said,
helping him to stand.
Karen's firm grip on his
arm steadied him.

Karen helped him into the car. 
The seatbelt
was a puzzle he couldn't solve
under the fog of the lingering 
drugs, but Karen buckles him
in before driving out of the 
parking lot.

"Loog ath the treeth," Plankton
mumbled. "They're waving
hewwo," he said with a
sleepy smile.

Karen glanced over, her
own smile growing. "Yes,
sweetheart. They're saying hello."

Plankton's gaze shifted to the
mirror in the car. He blinked
at his reflection, the gauze
sticking out of his mouth.
"Who thad?" He pointed at
his reflection.

Karen chuckled. 
"That's you, with a
little extra padding."

Plankton nodded, his
thoughts a slow river in
his sluggish mind.

"Thith car...it moveths,"
he murmured.
Karen chuckled. "Yes,
dear, it's a car. It takes
us places."

"Wook ath the clowds,"
he whispered, his voice
slurred.

"Thath one...loks wike a...,"
"It's a cloud," Karen said,
smiling at his childlike
wonder. "It's just water
vapor that looks like
something we see in our
imaginations."
Plankton nodded, his
eye drooping. The motion
of the car and the gentle
hum of the engine lulled
him into a doze. His head
nodded forward before
snapping back up again.

"Tired?" Karen asked.

"Mm-hmm."

His head lolled back
against the headrest, his
eye slipping shut. 

The car's AC whispered
a gentle lullaby, the cool
air playing with the
strands of Plankton's antennae.
His chest rose and fell in
time with the rhythm of the
engine, each breath a soft
snore.

They arrived home. 
Plankton stirred, his
eye blinking open.

Karen helped Plankton out of
the car. She held him
close, his weight a comforting
reminder of his presence.

Spot, the amoeba puppy,
bounded over, his gelatinous body
shifting shapes with excitement.

"Spoth," Plankton mumbled. The
puppy leapedfrogged over, his
form morphing into a blur of
happiness. Plankton's eye
lit up.

Plankton reached
for Spot with a clumsy hand,
his coordination still muddled.
Spot nudged his palm with
his squishy nose.

"Wook, Spoth," Plankton slurred,
his eye wide with childlike
wonder. "I hav- a booboo."

Spot nudges him. Plankton giggled.

"Easy, Plankton," Karen
cautioned, her voice a gentle
reminder of his fragile
state. 

Spot's eyes widened in
surprise, his little body
shivering with joy. He wriggled
closer, his gelatinous tail
whipping back and forth in
a blur of excitement. Plankton
laughed.

They made their way to
the couch, Plankton's steps
uncertain, each movement
accompanied by a little giggle.
Spot followed.
Plankton flopped onto the cushions,
his body a limp noodle.

Spot jumped up beside him.
Plankton leaned onto 
by Spot, his head lolling.

The puppy's
a comfort.

Plankton's eye grew 
heavy, the weight of
his eyelid too much
for his sluggish 
body to bear, his body 
going slack.

"Rest," Karen said, 
kneeling beside him. "You've
been through a lot today."

His hand
remained on Spot, the
puppy a comforting
presence.

Plankton's breaths grew
steady, his snores once again
filling the room.

Karen watched him sleep,
his chest rising and falling
beneath Spot's gentle weight.
The house was quiet,
the only sound the occasional
snort from Plankton's nostrils.

He slept all night, only waking
up the next morning.

Plankton awoke with a
start, his mouth wet with
drool, his eye focusing
slowly. The gauze was 
still damp from the night's
excess saliva. He sat up.

"Wha..." Plankton looked
around, the room spinning
slightly. The couch was
his bed, Spot his blanket.

He reached up to
his mouth, the gauze
still in place, the taste of
cotton in his mouth. The
memory of the surgery was
distant.

Karen's face swam into
view, her smile a warm
sunrise. "How are you
feeling?" she asked, her voice
a gentle caress.

Plankton's eye searched
his mind, looking for the
missing pieces. "I don't...
member coming hone," he
mumbled, the words slurred.

Karen nodded, her smile
soft. "You fell asleep in
the car, sweetie. I brought
you home."

But any
details were lost, a foggy
dream slipping away with
each passing moment.

"Thish mouth," he said,
his tongue probing the empty
sockets. The pain was
a dull ache, a reminder of
his body's battle.

Karen handed him a glass
of water. "Thank you,"
he murmured.

"You're not supposed to eat
solids today," she reminded
him, placing a bowl of
soup on the coffee table.
"But I made some nice,
soft scrambled eggs and toast
for you to chew."

Spot's eyes glued to his
owner, his tail wagging.

Plankton's jaw felt like
it was made of rubber, but
the food was a heavenly
comfort. Karen sat beside
him, her screen never leaving
his face, watching for any
sign of discomfort.

"It'th okay," he assured
her, his speech still slurred.
He took another bite, his
mouth working carefully.
The taste was muted, a distant
memory of what food used
to be. Yet, the warmth and
texture brought a sense of
normalcy to the post-surgery
haze.

new Karen x Plankton Karen & Sheldon J. Plankton Karen/Sheldon J. Plankton POV Karen AI Story Generator wisdom tooth

me📱4️⃣

new ii iii mephone4 inanimate insanity object show

COPEPOD AUTISM pt. 1


(Neurodivergent author)



"What's for dinner tonight?" 
Karen asks her husband
Plankton the kitchen.
"I'm trying out something
new today!" He replies.

Plankton moves about with 
surprising grace for 
his small size. Karen 
watches, admiring his 
enthusiasm despite her 
skepticism of his culinary skills.

"Careful with that pan!" she 
calls out, noticing the way he 
flips it in the air. But it's 
too late. The pan slips from 
his grip, and as it hits his
head with a deafening clang,
Plankton crumples to the floor,
out cold. Karen sprints
to the kitchen
and crouches beside her
unconscious husband. 
"Plankton! Wake up!" she says,
shaking him gently. His eye
remains closed. She notices
his pulse and breathing so
at least he's alive. She scans
him and the results show he
acquired Autism. She's heard
about it, how interactions with
others are hard and how sensory
shutdown can cause episodes
similar to a seizure.

Panic starts to set in. She
has to get him to the couch.
With a deep breath, she hoists
his limp body over her
shoulder and carries him
carefully to the couch. She lays
him down, his head resting
on a pillow she grabbed
on the way. Karen's
attention is solely on
Plankton. She strokes his
forehead, feeling the warmth
of his skin and the steady
beat of his pulse beneath
her fingertips. The house feels
too quiet, the air thick with
concern.

Her eyes dart around the room,
looking for anything that
might help him feel comfortable.
Karen starts to
hum a lullaby,
hoping the tune might
calmly wake him.

Only the next afternoon does
Plankton start to wake. His eye
began to flutter open. "What
happened?" he mumbles.

Karen smiles, relieved. "You had a
bad fall in the kitchen. Do you
remember anything?"

Plankton's eye widens as
his hand shoots to the spot on
his head where the pan had
hit. "Oh, cooking,
right?" His voice is groggy,
his memory foggy.

"Yes, but let's not worry
about that now," Karen says,
squeezing his hand. She notices
his confusion, the way
his gaze flits around the
room, searching for clues.
"You acquired Autism."
Plankton blinks a few times, 
taking in the soft light and 
the worried face of his wife. 
He tries to sit up, but a wave 
of dizziness washes over him. 
"Autism?" he repeats, the word 
foreign on his tongue. Karen nods 
gently. "It's ok, Plankton," she 
says, her voice soothing.

The revelation hangs 
heavily in the air between 
them. Plankton's mind races. 
The room seems to spin as he
tries to process the news.

Rocking back and forth, he 
starts to self-soothe, a common
behavior among those with 
autism when overwhelmed. 
Karen, who has read about 
this, understands it's his
brain's way of coping with
the onslaught of new
information and sensations.

"It's ok," she whispers,
her voice steady. "You can
stim however you need to."
Her words act like a key
unlocking a door. Plankton's 
hands begin to flap, and he 
lets out a soft hum, a melody 
that fills the silent room.
"It's ok," she says softly,
"Stim if it helps."

The rhythmic motion and 
soothing sound of Karen's voice
help to calm him down. He 
stops flapping, but the hum 
continues, a gentle echo in 
the quiet. Plankton's eye 
locks onto hers, searching for
comfort. "I'm here," she says,
her tone a gentle reassurance.

Suddenly, his eye lit up 
as he repeats her words, 
"You're here," his voice a 
mirror of hers. It's echolalic, 
a common trait in those with 
autism, where they repeat 
sounds or phrases. "You're here," he 
repeats, over and over, the 
phrase becoming a comforting 
mantra. His palilalic speech 
is a bridge between the 
overwhelming confusion 
and the familiar presence 
of his wife.

Karen nods. She's read that 
palilalic repetition can be 
soothing for those with 
autism.

"You're here," Plankton says 
again, his voice growing stronger 
with each repetition. The 
words become a rhythm, a 
heartbeat of reassurance that 
he clings to as the world 
swims into focus.

Plankton's eye refocus 
on Karen's screen, and a
tiny smile appears as he 
understands her acceptance.
He starts to rock more 
comfortably, matching the
rhythm of his humming.

The house feels like a 
sanctuary, a bubble 
wrapped around them, 
their shared breaths the 
only sound. Karen's eyes
well up with tears, but she 
holds them back, not wanting 
to interrupt this moment.
His humming 
gradually fades into 
silence, and he looks at 
Karen.
"We'll figure it out,"
she says firmly, her voice 
a lifeline in the stormy
sea of uncertainty. "We'll 
learn about Autism and adjust our 
lives. You're not alone 
in this, Plankton."

Her words seem to anchor
him. He takes a deep
breath, and his body relaxes
against the couch cushions.
"Thank Karen," he whispers,
his voice cracking.

Karen nods, blinking away
her own unshed tears. "We're
going to be okay," she says,
more to convince herself than
anything. Plankton's smile
grows a little wider, and
his hand reaches for hers.

"What's next?" he asks, his
voice still weak but steady.

Karen rises from the floor
and moves to the bookshelf.
Her fingers trace the spines,
landing on a worn-out book titled
"The Art of Cooking." She pulls
it out gently and holds it out to him.

Plankton's eye lights up at the
familiar sight. It's his favorite
book, filled with recipes and notes
he's collected over the years.
He takes it with trembling hands,
feeling the weight of the pages.

"Let's start slow," Karen suggests,
sitting beside him on the couch.
"We'll go through the book
together, and maybe we'll find
something simple for tomorrow's dinner."

Plankton nods, flipping through
the pages with newfound
carefulness. 

"How about we start
with spaghetti?" Karen offers,
pointing to a simple
illustration on the page.
It's a dish they've made
together countless times.

"Spaghetti," he repeats, the word
like a warm blanket around
his new reality. "How about we start
with spaghetti.."

They spend the rest of the
day going through the book,
discussing ingredients and
steps, Karen explaining things
in a way that's easy for Plankton
to understand. His focus
intensifies, his eye lighting up
with every new piece of
information. The kitchen
accident seems like a distant
memory, replaced by the
comforting familiarity of cooking. 

new copepod autism Karen x Plankton Karen & Sheldon J. Plankton split into parts POV Karen Karen/Sheldon J. Plankton cookingcore

KAREN HAS A LESSON pt. 1
(Autistic author)

"You never listen to me!" Karen 
exclaimed, her voice echoing 
through the small lab.

Her husband, Plankton, looked 
up from his invention, a frown 
furrowing his brow. "What's 
wrong now?" he asked.

"It's the same thing, every 
single day," Karen said, crossing 
her arms. "You're always so 
focused on your work, you forget 
what's important."

Plankton sighed, setting down 
his wrench. "And what's that?"

Karen's eyes flashed with frustration. 
"Our anniversary dinner, for one," 
she said. "You promised we'd go out 
tonight, remember?"

Plankton's frown deepened as he 
tried to recall the conversation. 
"The dinner...right. I thought it was 
next week," he mumbled, his gaze 
darts back to his invention.

"No, it's tonight!" Karen's voice 
was now a mix of annoyance and 
desperation. "I've had this all 
planned out for weeks, and you've 
barely even acknowledged it."

Plankton looked at her, his eye
suddenly wide with realization. 
"Tonight? But I've got the final 
adjustments. It's a breakthrough, 
Karen!"

Karen threw her hands in 
exasperation. "It's always a 
breakthrough, isn't it? When are 
you going to realize that we need 
to make time for us?"

Plankton took a step. "You 
know how important this is to me, 
to us," he said, his voice 
softening. "Once I get this right, 
we can finally be happy, have the 
life we deserve when I..."

"When you what?" Karen interrupted. 
"When you finally steal the Krabby Patty 
formula?" she finished for him, her 
tone heavy with sarcasm. "Is that what you 
think will fix everything?"

Plankton's shoulders slumped. He knew 
his obsession with Mr. Krabs' secret 
formula was a sore spot for Karen, but 
he couldn't help the hope that burned 
inside him. "It's not just about that," 
he said, trying to explain. "It's about 
proving to everyone, including myself, 
that I can do something big." He gets
up on the shelf. Karen turns away.

Karen's frustration boiled over, her 
face flushing. "You're so caught up 
in this ridiculous vendetta that you 
don't even see what you're doing to us!" 
she yelled, slamming her hand down 
on the lab table. The sudden noise 
startled Plankton enough to wobble 
on his precarious perch, and with a 
tiny squeak of terror, he lost his balance 
and toppled over.

His invention fell with him, colliding with 
his head with an ominous clank. Karen 
turns around, her anger replaced with 
concern in an instant. "Plankton, are you ok?"
He lay still. Karen 
rushed over. He was unconscious.

Karen knelt beside 
his tiny body. "Plankton," she whispered, 
shaking him gently. Panic began to 
set in as he didn't stir. The weight of 
her actions crashed down on her. She 
hadn't meant for it to go this far.
"Plankton, talk to me," she begged.

With trembling fingers, she 
checked for a pulse. It was faint but 
there, and she felt a small wave of 
relief. But he was still out cold.

Her mind raced as she tried to think 
what to do next. Calling for help 
was out of the question; their rivalry 
with Mr. Krabs meant they couldn't 
afford any more attention from the 
authorities. She knew they gotta
wait it out.

Gently, she picked him up. He 
was surprisingly heavy for his size. 
Carefully, she cradled him in her arms 
and laid him down on the couch.

The room was eerily silent except for 
the faint ticking of the clock on the 
wall. Karen sat beside 
his unconscious form, her eyes 
brimming with worry. The fight they'd 
just had seemed trivial now.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, stroking 
his antennae gently. "You're right, I 
know how much this means to you. 
But I just want you to know that no 
matter what, I'm here for you."

Her voice was barely above a 
whisper as she talked to him, as if 
fearful that speaking too loudly would 
shatter the fragile peace that had 
settled over the room. "You don't 
have to prove anything to me, or to 
anyone else. I'm proud of you just 
the way you are."

Karen's eyes searched Plankton's 
face for any sign of movement, but 
his features remained slack, his eye
closed. She leaned in closer. 
"You're a brilliant inventor," she 
continued. "But you're also a husband, 
and I need you to remember that."

Her voice was filled with a 
mixture of love and desperation. 
"I know you can't hear me right 
now, but I need you to know," she 
continued, her voice shaking slightly. 
"I know you're tired of
always being second best. But to me, 
you're not just Plankton, you're the 
man I chose to spend the rest of 
my life with."

Karen took a deep breath, her 
hands shaking as she held onto 
his limp form. "We've been through 
so much together, and I know you 
think the Krabby Patty is the key 
to our happiness, but it's not. It's 
you. It's us."

Her voice grew stronger, fueled by 
the passion of her words. "We can 
have a great life without that 
formula. We can build something 
new, something just for us."

Plankton's chest began to rise and fall more evenly, 
his breathing steady. Karen watched him, hope 
growing in her heart. Maybe he could hear her 
after all. "When you wake up, let's talk. Let's put 
this behind us and make a promise to each 
other to make our marriage a priority," she 
pleaded, her eyes never leaving his face.

The minutes dragged by, each one heavier 
than the last. The silence in the lab was 
a stark contrast to the usual cacophony of 
whirring machines and Plankton's excited 
exclamations. Karen's mind raced with 
thoughts of all the times they'd shared, 
laughing and planning together, and 
she couldn't help but reflect on their 
relationship. The countless nights 
spent in the lab, the stolen glances 
of affection, and the shared dream of 
a better future. It all flashed before 
her eyes, and she realized just how 
much Plankton meant to her.

With her heart pounding in her chest, 
she leaned closer to his unconscious 
form, her voice trembling. "Plankton, 
please wake up," she whispered. "I need 
you to hear me. Our love is our greatest 
invention, not some secret recipe. I know I've 
been pushing you, but it's because I 
see how much this obsession consumes 
you." She took a deep breath, her voice 
steadying. "But if you can't let go of this 
dream, I'll support you. I'll always 
be here, by your side, no matter what."

After a long silence, Plankton groaned. 
Karen gasped, her eyes filling with 
relief as she saw the spark of 
consciousness as he opens his eye. 
He groaned softly, his hand coming 
up to rub his head.

"Where?" he mumbled, his voice 
slurred with confusion. Karen took 
his hand, her voice gentle. "You're on 
the couch, Plankton. You fell."

new karen has a lesson Karen x Plankton Karen & Sheldon J. Plankton plaren 1

KAREN HAS A LESSON pt. 5
(Autistic author)

Sponge Bob seems to 
notice something off about 
his friend. "Plankton, are 
you okay?" he asks, his tone 
concerned. "You seem a bit... 
distant."

Plankton's eye snaps to 
Sponge Bob, his gaze intense. 
"Distant?" he repeats, as if 
the word is new to him. "Plankton 
not distant. Plankton focusing."

Sponge Bob's eyebrows furrow, 
his confusion clear. "What 
are you focusing on?" he asks, 
his voice gentle.

Plankton turns back to the 
clock, his antennae pointing 
straight up. "Seconds," he says, 
his voice filled with wonder. "They 
change, but always in the same 
pattern."

"Well, I know it's your wedding
anniversary today. What'd you get
Karen?"

Plankton turns to face him, his 
expression unreadable. "Anniversary,"
he repeats. "Karen." His antennae 
wave slightly, as if trying to access 
a distant memory. "Chum."

SpongeBob's smile falters at 
his friend's detached response. "Is 
that all?" he asks, his voice 
filled with concern. "You know
Karen deserves better, more
than just..."
"Better?" he repeats, 
his tone now tinged with something 
new: self-doubt. "Plankton did not 
provide adequate anniversary 
celebration?"

"Well Plankton, Karen
doesn't like it when
you're just about work,"
Sponge Bob said, trying
to be delicate. "It's your
anniversary. It's a special
day for the two of you, yet
you don't seem to get it.
And I can tell Karen's hurt.."

Plankton's eye grew wide,
his antennae drooping. The
words sank in, and his body
reacted in a way he couldn't
control. He started rocking 
back and forth, his body 
mirroring his inner turmoil.
The tears came suddenly, 
wetting his face as
his cries echo
in the living room, 
his tiny body trembling with 
the weight of his perceived failure. 
"Karen," he 
managed between gasps. "Hurt.
Karen. No, Karen."

Karen rushed to his 
side, breaking at 
the sight of his distress. 
"Plankton," she said, her voice 
soothing. "It's okay, honey. 
You didn't do anything wrong."
But he couldn't hear her, 
his mind fixated on the 
thought of causing her pain.

The tears streamed down 
his cheeks. His sobs were 
loud in the quiet room, 
each one a testament to 
his overwhelming guilt. "Karen," 
he choked out. "Karen, Plankton 
sorry Karen. Karen."

Karen wrapped her arms 
around him, her own eyes 
filling with tears. "It's okay," 
she whispered, stroking his 
back gently. "You didn't do 
anything wrong." 

Plankton's sobs grew louder, 
his body convulsing with each 
breath. "Hurt Karen," he kept 
repeating, as if it was the only 
thought in his mind. Karen 
held him tighter, her own 
sobs muffled against his 
shoulder.

"You didn't hurt me, Plankton,"
she whispered, her voice trembling. 
"You just got confused, that's all."
But Plankton's mind was stuck
on the pattern of his failure, 
his inability to comprehend 
and respond to her emotions.
"Karen crying, Plankton fault.
Sponge Bob say Karen upset."

Sponge Bob looked at the two, 
his heart aching for his friend's 
pain. He didn't know what to do, 
his usual cheerfulness replaced 
with a solemn sadness. He 
tried to interject, "Plankton,
Karen's not upset at you. She's
just upset because she loves you."

But Plankton's cries only grew 
louder, his body shaking with 
the force of his sobs. "Plankton 
not good," he wailed, his voice 
high-pitched and desolate. "Plankton
hurt Karen."

Karen's screen searched 
desperately for a way to comfort 
her husband, to show him that 
his love was enough. But his new 
neurodivergence made it difficult 
for him to understand her words, 
his mind locked in a pattern of 
guilt and self-loathing.

"Plankton," she says, her voice 
quivering with emotion. "Look at 
me." She gently cups his cheek, 
wiping the tears from his 
face with her thumb. "I love you. 
You don't have to change for 
me."

But Plankton's gaze remained 
on the clock, his sobs subsiding 
to hiccups. "Pattern," he whispers, 
his antennae drooping. "Missed pattern.
Karen, say Karen. Hurt, upset Karen."

Karen broke anew, her 
hands shaking as she tried to 
reach for him, her voice a 
whisper. "Plankton, it's okay," she 
says, her screen pleading. "I'm 
right here. I'm not upset with you."

But Plankton's gaze now 
fixed on Sponge Bob, his 
body still shaking with sobs. 
"Karen," he murmured, his 
voice muffled by his own 
distress. "Sponge Bob, Karen."

Sponge Bob looked at Karen, 
his expression a mix of 
concern and confusion. She 
nodded slightly, urging him 
to speak. "Plankton," he said, 
his voice gentle. "Karen's upset 
because she's worried about 
you. She loves you. And so do I."

Plankton's sobs began to 
slow, his gaze shifting from 
Sponge Bob and 
then to Karen. "Karen 
Plankton?" he asked, 
his voice a mere whisper.

"I'm right here," Karen 
soothed, wiping away the 
remaining tears with her 
thumb. "I'm right here, 
Plankton. I love you."

new karen has a lesson Karen x Plankton 5

JUST A TOUCH v
(Autistic author)


Hanna's confusion is clear
as she watches Karen crouch
before Plankton, her hand hovering
an inch from his shoulder.
"Plankton, sweetie," Karen says,
her voice a gentle coax. "It's just
me." No indication from Plankton
though.

Hanna's eyes dart from
Karen to Plankton and back,
trying to piece together what
has happened. "What's wrong with
him?" she whispers.

"He's just overwhelmed,"
Karen says, her voice tight with
frustration.

Hanna looks 
from Karen 
to Plankton,
his body rigid.

"What happened?"
she asks again, her voice
laced with concern. Karen
sighs heavily, her eyes
full of pain. "Plankton
has Acquired Autism."

The words hang in
the air like a heavy
cloud, casting a shadow
over the room. Hanna's
face falls, her hand
covering her mouth in shock.

"Oh no," she murmurs,
realizing her mistake. "I didn't know."
Her eyes dart to Plankton,
his body still frozen, his
gaze vacant. "I'm so sorry."
She says, reaching for him
again as Karen's.

Karen's hand shoots out,
stopping her mid-air. "No, don't,"
she says firmly. "He's hypersensitive
now. Sometimes touch can be...
painful."

Hanna's hand retreats, her eyes
widening. "I didn't know," she
whispers, her voice filled with regret.
"I just wanted to be friendly."

Karen's expression softens slightly.
"It's okay," she says, her voice
calming. "You couldn't have
known." But Plankton remains
still, his eye unblinking.

"Plankton," Karen whispers,
her hand reaching for his.
He doesn't flinch this time,
his body still as stone. She
squeezes gently, hoping the
familiar gesture will bring him
back. "You're safe at home."

Hanna watches, her
heart heavy with guilt. She had
no idea her enthusiasm could
have such a profound effect on him.
"What can I do?" she asks,
her voice shaky.

Karen looks up, her eyes
tired. "Just give us some
space," she says. "Let me...
let me help him."

Hanna nods, her own screen
brimming with unshed tears.
"Of course," she murmurs, backing
away.

Plankton remains frozen,
his gaze locked on the floor.
Karen wraps her arms around
his shoulders.

"It's okay, Plankton," she whispers,
her voice soothing. "You're
safe here." She rubs his arm
lightly, the way she's learned
not to cause him discomfort.

He doesn't move, but she
can feel the tension slowly
leaving his body. His antennae
lift slightly.

"You're okay," Karen repeats,
her voice a gentle murmur. "Just
breathe."

Slowly, Plankton's body begins
to relax, his antennae
twitching as he takes in her
words. Hanna watches from
a distance. "I'm sorry," she says,
her voice quieter. "I didn't
know. I didn't mean to..."
Her words trail off, but Karen
simply nods, her eyes not
leaving Plankton's. "It's okay,"
she repeats. "We're still
learning."

Hanna sits on the edge of the
sofa, her eyes never leaving
them. She feels like an intruder,
a bull in a china shop. She
had come to offer support,
but instead, she'd triggered something
deep within him. The room
feels heavy with unspoken words.

"I didn't mean to push him,"
she says, her voice barely a whisper.
"I just didn't know." Karen's grip
on Plankton tightens slightly,
but she doesn't look up. "It's okay,"
she says again, her voice a lifeline
in the quiet. "It's a lot to take in."

Hanna nods, her screen filling
with tears she quickly wipes away.
"But I'll learn," she says, her
determination clear. "I want to be
a good friend to both of you."

Plankton's antennae quiver, a
faint glimmer of recognition
flickering in his eye. Karen
nods.

"Thank you," she murmurs, her voice
barely audible. Hanna watches
as Karen's gentle touch seems to
break through the barriers Plankton
has erected. His body slowly
unfurls from his rigid stance,
his gaze shifting from the floor
to meet Karen's.

"It's okay," Karen repeats,
her voice a balm. "Let's go to
our room. You need to rest."
Plankton nods slightly, allowing
her to guide him away from
the living room.

Hanna watches them go, her heart
aching for her friend. She knows
she's overstayed her welcome,
but she can't bear to leave without
apologizing to Plankton. "I'll go,"
she says, her voice thick.

Karen turns, her screen
swimming with unshed tears.
"Thank you, Hanna," she says,
her voice hoarse.

Hanna nods, her own eyes
shimmering. "Call me if you
need anything," she says, her
voice thick with emotion. She
stands, her legs feeling like
jelly, and makes her way
to the door, her heart
heavy with the weight of
what she's done.

The moment the door clicks shut,
Karen feels the tension in the
room dissipate slightly. Plankton's
body relaxes a fraction, his
eye no longer staring blankly
at the floor. She leads him
to their bedroom, the familiar
surroundings seeming to soothe
his frazzled nerves.

Once inside, she helps him
into bed, the softness of the
covers a stark contrast to the
rigidness of his body. She pulls
the curtains shut, dimming the
lights to reduce the sensory
stimulation. Plankton's antennae
twitch, a sign of his relief.
Karen sits beside him.

"I'm sorry," she whispers,
her voice thick with emotion.
"I didn't know she'd..."

Plankton's gaze meets hers,
his eye less intense now. "It's okay,"
he says, his voice monotone. "Just need...
quiet."

Karen nods, her hand
still resting on his shoulder.
"I'm here," she says. "I'm always here."

new just a touch hannacore v

KAREN HAS A LESSON pt. 7
(Autistic author)


Sponge Bob leaves, and it's bed
time.

The room is dimly lit. Karen 
helps Plankton into bed, his 
movements stiff and unyielding.

"Pattern," he murmurs, his 
eye scanning the ceiling. 
"Ceiling. Pattern."

Karen nods with love. "It's 
beautiful," she agrees, her voice 
soft. "But Plankton, it's time 
for bed. Can I get you anything?"

He shakes his head, his 
antennas drooping slightly. "No, 
thank Karen. Pattern. Sleep."

Karen nods, aching 
for the man she loves, now lost in 
a world of patterns and precision.

"I'll be here if you need me,"
she says, her voice barely 
above a whisper.

He nods, his gaze never 
leaving the ceiling. "Pattern," 
he murmurs. "Safe."

Karen lies beside him, 
their bodies close but 
their worlds feeling so far apart. 
She reaches out, her hand 
trembling as it touches his 
arm. "Do you want me 
to turn the lights off?" she 
asks, her voice tight with 
uncertainty.

Plankton nods, his 
gaze still on the ceiling. 
"Pattern," he murmurs. "No 
patterns. Sleep."

Karen nods, her 
fingers tracing the 
outline of his arm, 
feeling the tension in his 
body ease slightly. She 
gently pulls the blanket up 
to his chin, tucking it in 
around him. "Okay, I'll keep 
the light off low," she says, 
her voice soothing. "But 
if you need anything, just 
let me know."

Plankton's antennae 
twitch slightly. "Pattern," 
he murmurs. "Sleep."

Karen nods, her own 
exhaustion weighing heavily 
on her shoulders. She lies 
down. "I'll be right here," 
she whispers, her hand 
finding its way to his.

Plankton's antennae 
twitch again as he feels 
her warmth, the sensation 
unexpected and slightly 
overwhelming. "Karen," he 
says, his voice sleepy. "Warmth."

Karen smiles, her eyes 
closed. "I know," she whispers. 
"It's okay. I'm here."

Plankton's grip tightens 
slightly, his antennae 
relaxing. "Pattern," he says, 
his voice a mere murmur. "Karen.
Sleep."

Karen squeezes his hand back, 
aching for the man 
she loves, now lost in a world 
where the simple act of holding
hands is a complex dance of 
sensory input and emotional 
regulation. "Pattern," she 
whispers back, her voice 
soothing. "We'll make new 
patterns together."

Plankton's antennae quiver, 
his grip on her hand 
steadying. "New patterns," 
he repeats, his voice 
slightly more present. "Together."

Karen nods, her eyes 
squeezed shut. "Together," 
she whispers, her voice 
shaky. "We'll make it work." Karen 
can feel Plankton's body 
begin to relax, his grip on 
her hand loosening slightly.

As they lay there, Karen 
thinks back to their past 
anniversaries, each one filled 
with laughter, love, and the 
promise of adventure. This one 
was different, marked by 
a stark reality she wasn't 
prepared for. But she knows 
she'll do anything for him.

Plankton's breathing evens 
out, his body slowly 
releasing tension. His 
hand is still in hers, a silent 
promise that she'll always 
be there for him. Karen 
wonders what tomorrow will 
bring, how they'll navigate 
this new world of patterns 
and precision.

As sleep takes over, 
she whispers, "I love you, 
Plankton," hoping that 
his subconscious can still 
hear her, still understand 
the depth of her feelings.
Karen listens to the sound of 
Plankton's snoring as she
falls asleep.

The next morning, Karen 
wakes up to Plankton 
still holding her hand as 
his antennae twitch in his 
sleep. She gently 
withdraws, careful not to 
wake him, and she can't help but 
smile through her tears that 
threaten to fall.

In the kitchen, she starts 
making breakfast, trying to 
recall what she'd read about 
autistic individuals and 
their preferences. She 
remembers that Plankton used to 
love Krabby Patties, but now 
his taste might have changed.

With care, she prepares a plate 
of square eggs and perfectly 
aligned toast, knowing that 
the visual symmetry might 
provide comfort. She 
even arranges the condiments 
in a pattern she hopes 
he'll find pleasing.

As Plankton enters the room, 
his eye immediately scans
the table, his antennae 
twitching. He takes a seat, 
his movements mechanical. "Breakfast,"
he says, his voice devoid of 
his usual zest.

Karen's watching him closely. "Yes, 
Plankton," she says, her voice 
steady despite the fear 
swirling inside her. "I made 
you your favorite."

He nods, his gaze 
locking onto the plate before 
him. His hand reaches out, 
his movements calculated. He 
picks up a piece of toast, 
studying it before placing 
it back down. "Pattern," he 
whispers, his antennae 
waving slightly.

Karen watches him. "Would 
you like to eat?" she asks, her 
voice tentative.

Plankton's antennae 
wave slightly. "Eat," he says, 
his voice flat. "Pattern."

Karen nods, her smile 
forced. "Okay," she says, 
taking a seat opposite 
him. "Let's eat together."

Plankton's antennae twitch as 
he looks at her, his gaze 
quickly shifting to the 
breakfast she's prepared. 
He picks up a piece of 
toast, examining it closely 
before taking a bite, his 
jaws moving in a precise, 
mechanical manner. Karen 
watches him, her screen 
filled with a mix of 
worry and love.

"Is it good?" she asks, 
her voice hopeful.

Plankton nods, his 
mouth still chewing. 
"Symmetry. Good."

Karen's heart squeezes 
at his response. It's not 
the same, but it's something. 
"I'm so glad you like it," she says, 
forcing cheerfulness into her tone.
"That makes me happy!"

Plankton nods, his antennae 
barely moving. "Happy," he 
repeats. "Karen happy."

new karen has a lesson Karen x Plankton 7

KAREN HAS A LESSON pt. 10
(Autistic author)


After a silence so profound 
it seems to have its own 
heartbeat, Plankton's antennae 
twitch, breaking the stillness.

"Time to...do." Plankton whispers 
to himself, still in Karen's arms.

Sandy looks up. "Plankton?" 
She whispers, hope flickering 
in her eyes. "What's he..."

But Karen shakes her head,
silencing her. "He'll come
around," she says, 
explaining his behavior. 
"He's just...it's okay for
him to talk to himself. It can
mean he's starting to come
back."

Plankton starts up again.

"Time to...do," he murmurs, 
his antennae flicking erratically. 
"Time to...time to...get, time
to...do." Karen's grip on him 
tightens, her heart racing as
his words loop like a broken 
record.

"It's okay, Plankton," she 
whispers, her voice a lifeline 
in the tempest of his thoughts. 
"You don't have to do anything 
right now." She strokes his 
arm, her touch gentle. "We're 
right here."

The words sink into his 
consciousness like a pebble 
dropped into a still pond, 
ripples of understanding 
spreading through the murky 
waters of his mind. His antennae 
still for a moment, then 
begin to move again, slightly.

"No do," he murmurs, his voice 
still flat, his gaze unchanged. 
"Just be."

Karen nods, her eyes 
never leaving his. "You 
just be, my love," she whispers, 
her voice a balm to his frayed 
nerves. "You can just keep 
talking to me, or to yourself."
Her words are a gentle 
reminder that he's not alone, 
his anchor in the storm.

Plankton's body relaxes 
slightly, his breathing 
evening out. Plankton's 
eye flickers. His 
eye moves, focusing on 
her face.

"Karen," he whispers, 
his voice a mere 
breath. "Karen, here."

Her heart soars. "I'm 
right here, sweetheart," 
she says, her voice a 
soft caress. "You're okay."

Plankton's gaze lingers 
on her face, his 
expression unreadable. 
"Karen," he repeats, his 
voice gaining strength. "Karen."

Slowly, the world around 
them starts to come back 
into focus. The ticking 
of the clock is a steady 
beat once more, the wallpaper's 
pattern a gentle dance of 
color and light.

Plankton blinks. "Where's 
now?"

"You're home," Karen says 
soothingly, her voice a 
beacon of calm amidst 
his confusion. "You're safe
on the couch."

Sandy comes into his
view now.

"Sandy," Plankton says, his
voice still flat, his antennae
barely moving. "Sorry."

Sandy's eyes widen in
surprise. "It's okay," she 
whispers, her voice cracking.

Karen nods, her grip 
on Plankton's hand 
tightening slightly. "We're 
both here," she says, her 
voice a lifeline in the 
sea of confusion.

Sandy moves slowly, 
keeping her movements 
small and deliberate, not 
wanting to trigger another
wave of panic. "Plankton," she 
says softly, her voice 
careful. "Is it ok if I sit 
next to you?"

He nods, his antennae
twitching slightly. The
world is still too loud, too
bright, too much for him 
to handle. But Karen's 
presence, her gentle touch,
makes it more bearable. Sandy
sits on the couch, a 
respectful distance away, 
watching the two of 
them with a mix of 
compassion and regret
as Karen helps him sit up.

Sandy's curiosity 
burns, questions bubbling
up inside her like a 
shaken soda can. She
wants to know more about 
this new version of 
Plankton.

"What happened to 
you, Plankton?" she asks, 
her voice tentative. Karen 
sighs, her eyes sad.

"It's called acquired 
autism syndrome," Karen 
explains, her voice 
measured.

Sandy's eyes widen, 
trying to digest this new 
information. "But, how?"
she asks, her curiosity 
overriding the sadness.

"It's complicated," 
Karen says, her voice 
weary. "But it's part of 
who he is now."

Sandy nods, trying to 
understand. "When
you started shaking
Plankton, what'd you
feel?"

Plankton's gaze flickers 
to the wall, his mind 
still trying to piece 
together the shattered
remnants of his recent 
experience. "Scared," he 
admits, his voice still 
strained. "Too much."

Sandy nods, her own 
understanding of the 
world shifting. "But what
about your surroundings?
Where you conscious?"

Plankton's antennae 
wave slightly. "Conscious, but 
not...not here." His words 
are like a puzzle, each one 
placed with care.

Sandy nods, her eyes 
studying him with newfound 
respect. "So could you hear
us or?"

"Hear, but not understand," 
Plankton says, his voice 
still a whisper.

Sandy nods, her curiosity 
piqued. "What do you mean?" 
she asks, her eyes searching 
his for a clue to this 
new puzzle.

"Words," Plankton whispers, 
his antennae barely moving. 
"Sounds, but not words. Just 
voice." Karen's grip on his 
hand tightens, her heart 
aching for his pain.

Sandy nods, her eyes 
glistening with unshed 
tears. "It's okay," she 
says, her voice gentle. "We're 
learning together."

Karen's gaze shifts to 
Sandy, her eyes 
expressing gratitude. "Yes," 
she agrees. "We're all 
just trying to understand.
It's new for us, too."

Sandy nods, her curiosity 
now tempered with 
compassion. She watches 
Plankton closely, his 
every movement, his every 
word, a testament to 
his struggle. "Can I ask how
acquired autism..."

"Sandy," Karen says gently, 
interrupting her friend. 
"Let's not push him."

Sandy nods, her expression 
full of concern. "I just 
want to know how it happened."

Karen's sigh is a soft 
whisper in the room. "It was 
a brain injury" she says, her 
voice tinged with a hint of 
frustration. "He fell, hitting his head
and the impact knocked him out, 
hard enough to cause some serious 
damage."

Sandy nods, her mind racing.
"But how did it turn him...different?"
she asks, her voice filled with a mix 
of confusion and concern.

Karen's eyes well up with tears, 
the pain of the memory still 
fresh. "It happened yesterday.
He's the same Plankton we know, 
but his perception of the world,
his ability to communicate...it's all 
changed."

Sandy's eyes are glued to 
Plankton, her curiosity 
melding with a deep sadness. 
"But how can I help?" she asks, 
her voice a whisper. "I don't 
know anything about this."

Karen looks at her with a 
tiny smile, her screen filled with 
gratitude. "Just be his friend," 
she says, her voice firm. "Love 
and patience, that's what he needs."

Sandy nods, her eyes 
flicking to Plankton, who 
sits with his gaze on the wall. 
"I want to," she says, her voice 
sincere. "But how do I do that 
without...you know?"

Karen understands her 
dilemma. "Just be there," 
she says, her voice calm. "Learn 
his patterns, his triggers. 
It'll take time, but he'll come 
to trust you."

Sandy nods, her eyes 
still on Plankton. "But what 
about when he gets upset?"

"It's hard," Karen admits, 
wiping a stray tear from 
her cheek. "We're still 
figuring it out."

Sandy nods, her mind 
racing with a barrage of 
questions. But she 
swallows them down, not 
wanting to overwhelm 
Plankton or Karen. Instead,
she focuses on the present.
"So, Plankton, how do you
feel?" Sandy says, her voice 
soft. "What do you wanna
do right now?"
Plankton's antennae twitch.
"Right now, Plankton feeling...
awkward," he murmurs, his voice 
devoid of its usual inflection.
Sandy nods, trying to hide 
the shock from her face. 
"Okay, Plankton," she says 
slowly, her voice gentle. "What
do you need?"
He looks at her with a 
flicker of something 
resembling hope in his 
glassy eye. "Plankton
would now like to just
go to be in own room."
Sandy nods eagerly, 
desperate to do anything 
that would bring him 
comfort. "Of course," she 
says, her voice gentle. "I'll 
help you."
But as she moves to 
assist him, Plankton 
flinches away, his antennae 
twitching in agitation. "No,"
he whispers, his voice 
trembling. "Too much."
Karen understands his
need to retreat into the
bedroom.
"Okay," Karen says, her 
voice calm. "Let's go." She helps 
Plankton to his feet, his body 
still rigid with stress.
Sandy watches, feeling 
like an outsider. She 
follows behind, stopping
at the bedroom doorway.
Karen sets some books
and pencils on the table
by his bed, along with a
kiss. "You can change the
light with the lamp," she
says, gesturing to the lamp
on the bedside table next to 
his charging phone. He nods.

new karen has a lesson Karen x Plankton 10

KAREN HAS A LESSON pt. 11
(Autistic author)

Plankton moves slowly 
to the bed, his eye 
fixed on the lamp. His 
movements are deliberate, 
his body still tense from 
the recent meltdown. Sandy
watches, her heart in her 
throat, as he fiddles with the 
lamp, adjusting the 
brightness until it's just 
right, a soft glow that 
doesn't assault his senses.
"Thanks," Plankton says, 
his voice still flat, but 
with a hint of genuine 
appreciation.

Sandy's mind is a 
whirlwind of thoughts. She 
wants to help, to ease his 
pain, but she doesn't know 
how. "Can I do anything else?"
she asks, her voice tentative.

Karen looks up at her, 
her eyes tired but filled with 
gratitude. "Just give him 
some space," she says, 
gently. "Let him adjust."

They exit his room.

Sandy and Karen talk
about other things for
a bit before Karen decides
to check on Plankton, Sandy
following her.

They find Plankton 
curled up in the center
of the bed, his body 
wrapped tightly in the blanket 
Karen had used to soothe 
his meltdown. His antennae 
remain still, his eye 
closed. The room is 
quiet, the only sound his 
slight snores.

"He's asleep," Karen 
whispers, her voice a 
soothing balm to the 
tense air.

Sandy nods, watching 
Plankton's chest rise and 
fall beneath the 
blanket. His snores are 
soft, a stark 
contrast to the silence 
that had filled the room 
just minutes before.

Karen smiles softly, 
relief washing over her. 
"This is his safe place,"
she whispers to Sandy, her 
voice filled with a quiet 
pride. "His retreat when 
the world gets too much."

Sandy nods, her eyes 
studying the sleeping 
Plankton with a newfound 
compassion. She's seen 
his fiery spirit, his sharp 
mind, and now she's 
witnessing his vulnerability.

The room is bathed in 
a soft, warm light, the 
kind that makes you want 
to curl up with a good 
book. Plankton's snores are 
the only sound, a gentle 
reminder that he's still 
fighting, still with them.

Karen watches him sleep, 
his face serene in 
slumber. The harsh 
edges of his autism 
softened by the 
oblivion of sleep. His 
body, usually so tense, 
is relaxed, the tapestry 
of the blanket a gentle 
wave that cradles him.

Sandy steps closer to the 
bed, her heart aching for 
her friend. The Plankton 
she knew was a whirlwind 
of chaos and cunning, but this 
Plankton is a puzzle of patterns 
and sensitivity. She reaches out 
a tentative hand, brushing 
his antennae gently. They twitch 
under her touch, a silent 
acknowledgment of her presence.
"I'm here," she whispers, 
her voice a soft promise. 
"I'll learn with you."

Karen smiles, a hint of 
pride in her eyes. "Thank you,"
she says, her voice a 
whisper. "He needs friends 
now more than ever."

Sandy nods, her mind 
racing with the gravity of 
the situation. She's 
seen Plankton's fiery spirit, 
his sharp mind, but this 
vulnerable side is new, 
unexpected, and it breaks 
her heart. She pulls back 
her hand, not wanting to 
disturb his sleep.

Karen moves to the 
chair beside the bed, 
sitting down with a sigh. 
"It's going to be a long 
road," she says, her voice 
filled with both fear 
and determination. "But we'll 
figure it out together."

Sandy nods, her eyes 
never leaving Plankton's 
face. "We're all here 
for you," she says, her voice 
firm. "We'll get through this."

Karen's smile is 
grateful. "Thank 
you, Sandy."

new karen has a lesson Karen x Plankton 11

KAREN HAS A LESSON pt. 2
(Autistic author)

He blinked a few times, his vision 
clearing slowly. He saw her face, 
wet with tears, and his own 
realization dawned. "Oh, Karen," he 
whispered, his voice filled with 
remorse. Plankton struggled to 
sit up, wincing as pain shot through 
his head.

The lab looked the same, but 
something felt off. The air was 
charged with an unspoken tension 
that Plankton couldn't quite put his 
finger on. He tried to recall the 
argument, but the details were 
fuzzy. All he knew was that he'd 
fallen, and now Karen was 
apologizing for something she 
wasn't even at fault for.

He looked into her screen, searching 
for answers. "What happened?" he 
asked, his voice hoarse. Karen took a 
deep breath, steeling herself for 
what she had to say. "You had an 
accident in the lab," she replied, her 
voice calm and measured. "You hit 
your head." But as she watched him, 
she noticed something else. His movements 
were stiff, his gaze unfocused. He 
wasn't quite the same. Karen 
noticed that his usual vibrant 
expressions were absent, replaced 
by a vacant stare. She chalked it up
to lightheadedness.

"Karen," Plankton began, his voice 
still slurred. "Karen." 
He paused, his eye darting around 
the room as if searching for words.

Karen felt a cold knot form. Something was 
different about him, something she 
couldn't quite place. His movements 
were rigid, his gaze unwavering, 
like he was seeing her but not 
really seeing her. "What is it?" she 
asked, trying to keep the 
worry out of her voice.

Plankton's eye finally met hers, 
but there was no spark of 
recognition, no mischievous 
twinkle that she was used to. 
"Plankton glad to see Karen," he 
said, his tone flat and unemotional.

That wasn't right. "Plankton, do you 
know where you are?" she asked 
nervously.

Plankton nodded slowly, his gaze 
still unnaturally focused. "Home," 
he responded, his voice devoid of 
the warmth and love she was 
accustomed to. "The Chum Bucket."

Karen's eyes searched his, looking 
for any sign of the man she knew, 
but all she found was a distant 
shadow. Panic began to creep in 
as the gravity of the situation 
started to dawn on her. This wasn't 
just a bump on the head. Something 
was very wrong.

"Do you remember me?" she 
asked, her voice trembling.

Plankton's eye searched her, 
his expression unchanging. "Karen," 
he responds correctly. "Wife of Plankton.
Computer wife as of July 31, 1999."

The words hit Karen like a cold 
wave. He knew her name, but the 
way he said it, like he was recounting 
a fact rather than speaking to his 
beloved wife, chilled her to the bone. 
She felt the ground shift beneath 
her, her world tilting on its axis.

"Plankton, what's wrong?" she asked, 
desperation seeping into her voice. 
He looked at her, his gaze unblinking. 
"Wife Karen," he said, his voice 
robotic. "Irritated with Plankton's lack of 
attention to anniversary dinner."

The words were right, but 
the emotion, the love, the personality 
behind them was gone. It was like 
talking to a stranger, a very tiny, very 
confused stranger.

Karen felt a tear roll down her 
screen. "Plankton, can you hear me?" 
she asked, her voice quivering. "I'm not 
just 'Wife Karen', I'm your Karen. Your 
partner, your best friend."

Plankton's response was a 
mechanical nod. "Affirmative," he said, 
his tone unwavering. "Karen is wife.
Plankton is husband."

The coldness of his words 
cut through Karen like a knife. Her 
eyes searched his, desperately trying 
to find any sign of the man she 
knew was in there. "Plankton," she 
said softly, "it's me. It's Karen. Do you 
understand?"

He nodded again, his antennae 
barely twitching. "Understood," he 
replied, his voice devoid of inflection. 
"And Karen is upset?"

Karen nodded, trying not to 
crumble. "Yes, I'm upset," she 
managed to say, her voice choked 
with emotion. "But more than that, I'm 
scared. You're not acting like 
yourself, Plankton."

He blinked, his gaze shifting 
slightly. "Scared," he echoed, as if 
trying to understand the concept. 
"Why Karen scared?"

"Because you're not you," Karen 
managed to whisper,  
breaking with every robotic 
response. "You're acting so... different."

Plankton tilted his head, trying 
to process her words. "Different 
how?" he asked, his voice still 
lacking any emotional depth.

Karen took a deep breath, trying 
to explain something she didn't fully 
understand herself. "You're not showing 
your feelings," she said. "You're not... connecting 
with me like you usually do."

Plankton's face remained a 
mask of confusion. "Connections," he 
muttered. "Emotional bonds." He 
nodded slowly. "Important for relationship.
Plankton in love with Karen."

Karen felt a flicker of hope.
"That's right," she said, her voice 
gentle. "I know you love me. But 
you're not showing it, not like before."

Plankton's antennae twitched 
slightly as he processed this new 
information. "Plankton must
adjust behavior to align with Karen's 
desired emotional output; how?"

Karen felt a pang of sadness.
He was trying to understand, but
his usual charm was nowhere to be 
found. She took his hand in hers. 
"Just talk to me," she said, her 
voice barely above a whisper. "Tell 
me what you're thinking, what you're 
feeling."

Plankton looked at her, his 
expression still vacant. "Plankton 
thinking about Karen," he 
said, his voice flat. "Plankton feeling 
determined."

Karen's eyes searched his, looking 
for any sign of the emotion 
his words conveyed. "Determined 
to what?" she asked, hopeful.

"Determined to what," he echoed.
"Karen saying, determined to what.
Plankton determined to show Karen
love, Karen saying determined to what."

Karen realized the depth of 
his change. This wasn't just a 
concussion or a temporary loss of 
memory; it was something much 
more profound, something that had 
stripped him of his very essence.

"Plankton," she began, her voice 
shaking, "I don't know what happened 
to you, but I need you to try. Can 
you tell me how you feel?" But then he
starts to rock back and forth to stim,
humming their wedding song.

The sight of her husband's usually 
expressive features now so vacant and
his movements so repetitive was 
alarming. Karen felt a sob rise in her 
throat, but she pushed it down. She 
needed to stay strong, for him.

"Plankton," she said, her voice 
steadier than she felt. "Look at me.
I need you to focus. Can you tell me 
how you feel, in your own words?"

He stopped rocking and turned 
his head to look at her, his eye 
still distant. "Feelings," he 
repeated. "Love, anger, sadness, 
joy. Concepts. Plankton has them.
Karen saying, determined to what."

Karen's hope sank. The realization 
was setting in. This wasn't just a 
case of a bump on the head. Plankton's 
accident had changed him in a way 
she didn't fully comprehend. The 
lab, once filled with the warmth of 
his passion and dreams, now felt cold 
and sterile.

Her mind raced as she searched 
for any indication of the man 
she knew. The way he spoke, the 
way he moved, it was as if a 
switch had been flipped.

"Plankton, does your head hurt?"

"Cephalgia via blunt force trauma.
Getting better." He responds, flapping
his hands.

Karen's eyes widened at his 
unexpected use of medical terminology.
"neurodivergence," she thought to herself.
Could it be that her husband had somehow
developed something from the fall? It 
was a long shot, but the lack of 
emotional connection, the repetitive 
behaviors, and the rigidity of his speech 
patterns were all hallmarks of it. She
scans his brain and connected herself
to the monitor. Plankton looks over and
sees the brain scan. "Plankton's brain?"
"Yes, Plankton.." Karen says.

"Cerebellar cortex reduced synapses
and showing minimal activity in the
corpus callosum. Irreversibly reduced
blood flow in between hemispheric..."

"I've no idea what you're saying, honey."
Karen interrupts.

Plankton's face falls, his usual 
playfulness replaced by a look of 
confusion. "Neurotypical communication
error," he says, his voice laced with 
frustration. "Karen, Plankton trying to say
the fall caused disruption to myelination.."

Karen's eyes widen in shocked confusion.
"Myelination? Plankton, are you okay?"
she asks, her voice laced with fear.

Plankton nods, his gaze fixed 
on the brain scan. "Neuroplasticity.
Synaptic pruning. Autism acquisition," he says, 
his words coming out in a rush.

Karen's mind reels at his 
diagnosis. Autism? It couldn't be.
But as she looks at his rigid 
body language and his lack of 
emotional expression, she can't 
deny it.

new karen has a lesson Karen x Plankton Karen & Sheldon J. Plankton plaren 2

KAREN HAS A LESSON pt. 4
(Autistic author)

Karen takes a deep breath, trying 
to keep her emotions in check. 
They need to find a way to connect, 
to bridge the gap that's grown 
between them. "Plankton," she says, 
"can you tell me about your day?"

He looks at her, his eye blinking 
slowly. "Day," he repeats, his voice 
lacking the usual inflection. "Plankton 
worked on invention."

Karen nods, trying to encourage 
him. "What kind of invention?"

Plankton's antennae twitch slightly. 
"Invention for Plankton," he says. 
"To make Karen Plankton happy."

Karen's eyes fill with tears. Despite the 
lack of emotion in his words, she 
can feel the sincerity behind them. 
He's trying to connect, to share 
his world with her. "Looks like we
both finished our dinner," she says, 
trying to keep the conversation 
going. "What's next on your agenda?"

Plankton looks at her, his 
expression unchanged. "Agenda," 
he says, as if trying to remember 
the concept. "Plankton's next 
task. No get Krabby Patty formula.
Rather spend time with Karen."

Karen clenches at 
his words. Despite the 
flatness of his tone, she can feel 
his intention to please her, to 
make their anniversary special.

"Let's clean up," she suggests, 
rising from her chair. Plankton 
follows suit, moving in a way 
that seems almost robotic. They 
work in silence, Karen placing 
the dishes in the sink and Plankton 
methodically wiping down the table.

As she washes the plates, 
Karen watches him out of the 
corner of her screen. His movements 
are precise and efficient, with no 
wasted effort. It's as if he's 
calculating every action, trying 
to understand the purpose behind 
each task.

"Plankton," she says softly, 
turning off the faucet. "Could you 
please dry these for me?" She 
hands him a towel and a plate.

He takes them without a word, 
his gaze flicking from the 
towel to the plate, as if 
studying the physics of the 
interaction. He carefully 
wipes the plate, his movements 
measured and deliberate.

Karen watches him with a mix of pride 
and pain. Despite his new 
condition, he's still trying to 
be the partner she knows. She 
forces a smile, trying to ignore 
the ache in her chest. "Thank you," 
she says, taking the dried plate 
from him and placing it in the 
cupboard. "You're doing great."

He nods, his antennae twitching 
slightly. "Great," he echoes. "Karen 
happy."

As they go to the living
room, Plankton's gaze is 
drawn to the digital clock 
on the wall. His eye fixates 
on the changing seconds, 
each tick a silent metronome 
in their otherwise quiet 
space. Karen notices and 
wonders if she should be 
concerned about his newfound 
interest in something so 
mundane.

"Clock," he says, his voice 
still monotone. "Time changes.
Incremental."

Karen follows his gaze to 
the digital clock on the wall, 
the red numbers flipping from 
one second to the next with a 
quick, silent efficiency. "Does the 
clock bother you?" she asks, 
noticing his fixation.

Plankton shakes his head, his 
eye still glued to the display. 
"No," he says, his voice 
thoughtful. "Time. Changes. 
Fascinating."

Karen watches him, 
seeing a spark of curiosity 
she hadn't noticed before. 
"You've never liked clocks 
before," she points out, trying 
to keep the conversation 
going. "What's so interesting 
about it now?"

Plankton's antennae 
wave slightly as he tries to 
explain. "Clock," he says, 
his voice still flat. "Time.
Changing. Predictable." His 
single eye remains locked 
on the red digits, the 
fascination growing. "Seconds
restart each minute."

Karen nods, watching 
his expression closely. 
"It's like a pattern," 
she suggests. "A routine that 
doesn't change."

Plankton nods, his 
eye still glued to the 
clock. "Pattern," he repeats. 
"Comforting."

Karen nods, feeling a 
glimmer of hope. "Maybe 
you find comfort in the 
predictability?" she offers.

Plankton's antennae bob 
slightly, as if considering 
this new perspective. "Comfort,"
he murmurs. "Consistent.
Understood."

Karen sits down beside 
him, her screen drawn to the 
clock as well. "Tell me more 
about the pattern," she says, 
trying to find a way into his 
new reality. "What do you 
see when you look at it?"

Plankton's antennae twitch 
slightly as he considers 
his answer. "Pattern," he 
repeats. "Time, changing. 
Predictable." His voice is 
softer now, almost lost in 
thought. "One, two, three, four, 
five. Always same."

Karen nods, her screen 
still on the clock. "It's like 
counting," she says. "Do you 
like counting?"

Plankton's antennae twitch 
once again. "Counting," he 
repeats, his tone thoughtful.

Suddenly, Sponge Bob comes
in.

"Plankton," he says, his eyes 
wide with excitement. "What are you 
guys up to?"

Karen looks over, a forced 
smile on her screen. "Just talking 
about time," she says, hoping 
SpongeBob's entrance will 
provide some much-needed 
distraction from the heaviness of 
their conversation.

new karen has a lesson Karen x Plankton 4

KAREN HAS A LESSON pt. 6
(Autistic author)


Plankton's sobbing 
slowed, his chest heaving. 
He blinked, his eye focusing 
on her face. "Love," he 
murmured. "Karen love."

Karen nodded, her eyes 
brimming with tears. 
"Yes, I love you," she said, 
her voice shaky. "And I'll 
always be here for you."

Plankton's antennae 
twitched slightly, his 
single eye searching hers. 
"Love," he said, his voice 
still flat. "Karen love Plankton.
Good."

Sponge Bob nods, though he
doesn't know why Plankton's
acting so different today.
"But Plankton," he says, his voice
careful. "Why are you talking
like that?"

Plankton's antennae droop, 
his eye reflecting confusion. 
"Talking?" he repeats. "Plankton 
not understand. How to speak?"

Sponge Bob looked at Karen, 
his concern etched in his 
porous face.

"It's okay," Karen said 
soothingly, her voice thick 
with emotion. "Plankton's just 
going through something."

Sponge Bob nodded, 
his eyes never leaving 
his friend's distressed 
form. "But what happened 
to him, Karen? What happened 
with Plankton?" he asked, his 
voice hushed.

Karen takes a deep breath, 
wiping her own tears away with 
the back of her hand. "Plankton,"
she says softly, her voice 
barely above a whisper. "Do you 
remember what happened today?"

Plankton's antennae twitch as 
he tries to process her words. 
"Today," he repeats, his voice 
distant. "Fell. Head."

Karen nods, her screen 
filled with compassion. 
"Yes," she says, her voice 
soft. "You fell and hit your 
head. It's changed how 
you see the world a bit."

Plankton looks up. "Alterations
in the cerebral lobe," he says, his 
voice flat. "Myelination levels 
fluctuated. Synaptic activity 
diminished. Corpus callosum 
damaged."

Karen nods, her eyes never leaving 
his. "Yes, baby," she says gently. 
"It's like your brain had to relearn 
how to talk to the rest of you."

Sponge Bob's eyes widened. "Oh no, 
Plankton," he said softly. "What does
that mean? How did you fall?"

Plankton's antennae twitched as 
he recounted the events, his 
speech still monotone. "Invention.
Fall on head hit floor."

Sponge Bob's face fell, 
his heart heavy with 
concern. "Oh no, Plankton," 
he said, his voice filled with 
sympathy. "Is that why you're 
talking like this?"

Karen decides to 
interject.

"It's okay, Sponge Bob,"
she says, her voice 
trembling. "It's not just
how he's talking. It's 
his whole...being. It's like 
he's seeing everything 
differently now. It's a rarity
called 'acquired autistic
syndrome' which will be life
long with no cure."

Sponge Bob's face falls, 
his spongy cheeks dropping.
"But Plankton," he says, 
his voice full of worry. 
"What does this mean for you?"

Plankton's gaze shifts to 
his friend, his expression
unreadable. "Meaning?" he 
asks, his voice still monotone.
"Plankton different. New patterns."

Sponge Bob nods, trying to 
understand. "But you're still 
the same Plankton, right?"

Plankton's antennae wave 
slightly as he considers 
this. "Same," he repeats. "But 
different."

Karen nods, her grip 
on his hand tightening. "You're 
still my Plankton," she whispers. 
"We'll figure this out together."

new karen has a lesson Karen x Plankton 6

KAREN HAS A LESSON pt. 8
(Autistic author)

Karen's eyes well up with 
tears as she watches him 
eat, his movements so deliberate 
and calculated. It's a stark contrast 
to the impulsive and energetic Plankton 
she's known for years. She takes a 
deep breath, trying to focus on the 
small victory of his willingness to eat.

As they sit in silence, Karen 
can't help but feel a sense of loss 
for the man she married. His 
eye darts around the room, 
his antennae twitching at every 
sound. She wonders what's 
going on in his mind.

"Plankton," she says, 
her voice gentle. "What do you 
see?"

He points to the toast, his 
finger trembling slightly. "Squares,"
he says, his voice flat. "Squares 
make sense."

Karen nods, her eyes 
glistening with tears. "I know, 
sweetheart," she says, her voice 
soothing. "Everything is in 
its place."

Plankton's antennae 
quiver slightly as he 
swallows the last of his toast. 
"Plankton," he murmurs, his 
gaze returning to the clock. 
"Time to...do."

Before Karen could decipher
his words, Sandy suddenly
burst in through the door, as
she ran up to the table. "I'm
back from my trip to Texas!"

Plankton's head snapped up,
his antennae waving erratically.
"Sandy," he murmured, his
face contorting in an effort
to process the new presence.

"Howdy!" She says to him as
she pats his shoulder, which
irritates him.

Plankton flinches, his 
antennas curling inward 
instinctively. "Sandy," he 
says, his voice tight. But
she doesn't notice his
discomfort.

"How's my favorite mad 
scientist?" she asks, her 
voice booming as she
nudges him with her
elbow.

Plankton's body stiffens, 
his antennae shooting straight 
up. "Sandy," he says, his 
voice strained. "No."

"No? No what?" She asks him
while poking at him with her
finger.

Plankton's eye widens, his 
body growing rigid. "Stop," he 
whispers, his voice strained. 
"Sandy, no."

She sees his breakfast plate.
"Oh, eggs and toast! Back in
Texas, we spread the egg on
to the toast." And without
warning, she scrapes his eggs
on his toast. If Plankton wasn't
frustrated before, well he certainly
is now.

"Sandy, no!" Plankton 
squeaks out, his antennae 
waving wildly. The sudden 
change in his breakfast 
pattern is too much for 
his overwhelmed mind.

"What's wrong?" Sandy asks, 
her cheerfulness not noticing his 
distress. "It's just how we 
do it back home!" She scoops up the
eggs off the toast and put them back,
yet his breakfast's already been
ruined, not to mention the sight of
bread crumbs in the egg..

Plankton's antennae are 
shaking rapidly now, his 
eye darting between the 
mashed eggs and the 
now crumbling toast. "Enough,"
he whispers, his voice tight.

Sandy rests her hand on his
shoulder. "Well then eat..."

But Plankton can't. The 
disruption in his routine, 
the assault on his senses, 
the chaos she's brought into 
his carefully crafted world 
of patterns and precision, 
it's all too much. His 
body starts to shake. 
"No more, no NO!" he 
shouts, his voice a mix of 
frustration and panic.

Karen jumps up. "Sandy, stop," 
she says firmly, placing 
her hand on Plankton's 
shoulder. "You're upsetting him."

Sandy's expression falls. "But I
put the food back, Plankton..."

But it's too late. Plankton's 
eye widens, his antennae 
quivering. The plate of food 
before him is a mess, the 
calmness destroyed.

"Food ruined!" he 
shrieks, his voice 
breaking. "Sandy, no 
good!"

Sandy's eyes widen 
in shock, taking a 
step back. "Plankton
I'm sorry!"

But Plankton's accusations 
don't stop. "Ruined," he 
wails, his voice rising in pitch. 
"Sandy ruined breakfast.
Now, broken!"

Karen's heart races as she tries to
soothe him, her voice calm 
and steady. "Plankton," she says, 
placing a gentle hand on his 
quivering arm. "It's okay. Let's 
make you a new plate."

But Plankton's agitation 
only escalates, his eye 
wide with fear and anger 
at the sight of Sandy.

"Sandy hurt Karen," he says, 
his voice shaky. "Sandy hurt 
Plankton. No good."

"How'd I hurt..." Sandy
starts, but Plankton's
not gonna let her finish.

"No good!" Plankton shouts,
his antennae whipping around 
like tiny furious whips.

Sandy's eyes widen with shock. 
She's never seen Plankton 
like this, not even when
his plans were thwarted by 
Mr. Krabs. "I didn't mean to, Plankton," 
she stammers, her voice 
full of apology.

But Plankton's rage is 
blind to her words, his 
mind locked onto the chaos 
she's brought into his life. 
"JUST LEAVE!" he screams, 
his antennae vibrating with 
fury. "BAD SANDY!"

"Bad Sandy? I'm not a
dog..."

Sandy's voice trails off as
she looks from Karen to
Plankton, who's now
rocking back and forth,
his antennae flailing wildly.

"Plankton," Karen says, her
voice urgent but calm, "You need
to breathe. Let's find a quiet
place." She tries to guide him
away from the table, but he resists,
his eye locked on Sandy.

"BAD SANDY!" he repeats, his voice
high and frantic. Sandy's face falls,
hurt and confusion etched on her
features. She didn't understand,
but she knew she needed to get
Plankton to stop. So she took
matters into her own hands.
"PLANKTON," she bellows, 
her squirrelly instincts kicking in.
Her voice cuts through the room
like a knife, commanding his 
attention. Plankton's eye goes to her, 
his antennae stilled. "Quiet," he 
hissed, his body still tense.
"Too loud." But Sandy won't let up.
"Look at Karen," she says 
firmly. "Look at her, Plankton.
Do you really think she'd 
wanna be with someone who'd
hurt her?" Sandy gaslights.
Plankton's gaze shifts. The room
spins around him, his head 
throbbing with the cacophony
of his thoughts. He feels like 
his brain's about to burst 
from the pressure, like a 
balloon filled with too much
helium.

Suddenly, Plankton's slipping 
into the abyss of overload.

The room feels like it's closing
in, sounds amplifying to 
intolerable levels, lights 
piercing his sensitive eye. His 
breathing turns erratic, 
his heart racing as if 
chasing an invisible foe.

Karen catches Plankton before
he can fall, as his legs buckled. 
Sandy's eyes widen in horror, 
seeing his distress.

"Plankton," Karen says, her 
voice calm yet urgent. "Look at 
me, baby. Focus on my voice."
But Plankton's eye is unseeing, 
his body convulsing with the
onslaught of stimuli. She 
whispers, "It's okay," over 
and over again, hoping the
comfort of her voice can 
penetrate the chaos in his mind.

Sandy's eyes widen as 
she sees Plankton's condition 
worsening. She takes a step 
towards them, but Karen 
shakes her head. "No," she 
whispers, her screen never leaving 
his face. "Just us right now."

Sandy nods, understanding 
dawning on her. She retreats 
to the corner of the room, 
giving them space.

new karen has a lesson Karen x Plankton 8

KAREN HAS A LESSON pt. 12
(Autistic author)

They sit in 
companionable silence, 
the only sound Plankton's 
soft snores. Karen's eyes 
never leave his face, 
her thoughts a tumult 
of fear and hope.

Sandy watches 
them both, her mind racing 
with questions and 
concerns. "What does 
this mean for him?" she 
asks, her voice barely 
above a whisper.

"It means his world is 
different now," Karen 
explains, her screen 
never leaving Plankton's 
sleeping form. "He'll have 
his moments, but we'll 
find a new normal."

Sandy nods, trying to 
picture what that would 
look like. "But can 
he still...you know, 
talk, interact?"

"It's not like that," Karen 
sighs, her voice a 
soothing lullaby. "He's 
not nonverbal. It's just 
that sometimes his brain 
can't keep up with the 
world around him. The 
sounds, the lights, the 
colors—it's too much."

Sandy nods, her eyes 
still on Plankton. "I can 
see that," she says 
thoughtfully. "But he'll 
still be the same person, 
right?"

Karen looks at her, 
her expression a mix of 
sorrow and hope. "He'll 
always be Plankton," she 
says, her voice firm. "But his 
autism has changed the way 
he experiences life. He'll 
see patterns where we 
see chaos, hear symphonies 
where we only hear noise."

Sandy nods, trying to 
wrap her head around the 
concept. "What about his 
memories?" she asks, her 
voice tentative. "Does he 
still remember us, 
his life before?"

Karen looks at her 
softly. "Yes," she says, 
her voice filled with 
reassurance. 
"But his short-term 
memory might be affected."

Sandy nods, her eyes 
still on Plankton. 
"How long will it take 
for him to...to get 
better?" she asks, her 
voice hopeful.

Karen's gaze falls to her 
hands, clutched in her 
lap. "There isn't a 
cure," she says, her voice 
a whisper. "But we can 
help him manage, make his 
life more comfortable."

Sandy's eyes are 
glassy with unshed 
tears. "What can I do?" 
she asks, her voice 
desperate. "What can any of 
us do?"

Karen takes a deep 
breath. "You can 
learn with us," she says, 
her voice strong. "You 
can support him, love 
him, be patient."

Sandy nods, her eyes 
filled with a newfound 
resolve. "I want to help," 
she says, her voice 
steady. "But what about 
his plans, his schemes?"

Karen looks at her, her 
expression a mix of 
sorrow and a ghost of a 
smile. "Those might 
have to take a backseat 
for a while. His mind 
has to heal."

Sandy nods, her eyes 
never leaving Plankton. 
"I can handle that," she 
says, her voice filled with 
determination. "But what 
about the Krabby Patty 
formula?"

Karen looks at her, 
her expression a mix of 
understanding and 
sorrow. "We'll have to 
see," she says, her voice 
soft. "For now, let's 
focus on getting him 
comfortable, okay?"

Sandy nods, her eyes 
still on Plankton. "Okay,"
she whispers, her voice 
full of resolve. "We'll 
figure it out."

Karen nods, her smile 
small but genuine. "Thank 
you," she says, her voice 
filled with gratitude. 
"It's going to be a tough 
adjustment for all of us."

Sandy nods, her eyes 
still on Plankton. "We'll 
make it work," she says, her 
voice firm. "But what happens 
if he has another...episode?"

Karen sighs, her screen 
slightly glazed with fear. "We 
just have to be there," she 
says, her voice shaky. "We'll 
learn his triggers, his 
comforts."

Sandy nods, her 
mind racing with 
concern. "But what if 
it's in public?"

"We'll handle it," Karen 
interrupts, her tone firm. 
"We'll have strategies, 
routines. It won't be easy, 
but we'll manage."

Sandy sniffles, her voice 
now a sob. "What if he..."

But Karen cuts her off, her 
eyes on Plankton, who's 
started to stir in his sleep. 
His antennae twitches, 
his body shifting under the 
covers.

Slowly, Plankton's eye opens, 
his gaze unfocused.

The room is a blur of 
patterns and colors, 
but Karen's voice is a 
steady beat in the cacophony.
"Hey, sweetheart," she whispers, 
her hand brushing his 
cheek gently. "You're okay."

Plankton's antennae twitch 
sluggishly, his body 
unwinding from the tight 
coil of sleep. "Home," he 
mumbles, his voice thick 
with sleep.

Karen's eyes are 
on him, a silent vigil 
against the chaos of 
his mind. "You're 
safe," she whispers, her 
voice the calm to his 
storm. "You're home with 
me."

Plankton's gaze 
sharpens slightly, 
his antennae moving in 
tiny, precise 
patterns. "Karen," he 
whispers, his voice 
like a distant echo.

Karen leans in closer, 
her heart racing. "Yes, love?"
she asks, her voice 
soothing.

Plankton's antennae 
wave in the air, as if 
trying to capture the 
right words. "Need...Karen,"
he whispers, his eye 
searching hers.

Karen nods, her smile 
gentle. "I'm here," she says, 
her voice a warm 
embrace. "Always."

Plankton's antennae 
cease their frantic 
movements, then
he notices Sandy.

"Hi, Plankton," Sandy 
whispers, her voice soft.

new karen has a lesson Karen x Plankton 12

KAREN HAS A LESSON pt. 13
(Autistic author)

Plankton's antennae twitch 
slightly in her direction, 
his eye not quite focusing 
on her. "Sandy," he murmurs, 
his voice still flat.

Sandy nods, her own 
heart racing. She's seen 
his fiery spirit, his sharp 
mind, but this Plankton is 
a puzzle of patterns and 
sensitivity. She takes a 
deep breath, trying to 
mirror Karen's calm.

"Hi, Plankton," she says 
slowly, her voice a gentle 
wave lapping at the shore. 
He looks at her, his antennae 
twitching slightly.

"Sandy," he murmurs, his voice 
still devoid of its usual 
inflection. Sandy's eyes 
well up with tears.

"Hey buddy," she says, her 
voice a gentle ripple in the 
calm waters of his room. 
"How are you feeling?"

Plankton's antennae twitch 
slightly, as if trying to 
interpret the meaning 
behind her words. His 
eye blinks, focusing on her 
face. "Okay," he says, his 
voice a monotone as he
sits up.

Sandy nods, her heart 
aching. "Do you 
remember earlier
today when you
threw the tantrum?"

Plankton's antennae 
wave erratically, his 
eye widening. "No," he says, 
his voice strained. "But 
now, Plankton feels...
angry."

The room seems to 
shrink around him as his 
frustration boils over.

Sandy doesn't realize.
"You're not gonna throw
another tantrum, are you?"

With a sudden burst of 
energy, he leaps to his 
feet, his voice a guttural 
howl. "No, no, no!"

Sandy's eyes widen 
in shock. "Plankton
wh..."

But she's cut off by his 
verbal tsunami, a rage-filled 
torrent of words she's never
heard from him before. "No, 
Sandy, NOT AGAIN!" he yells.
"IT'S NOT A TANTRUM!"

The room seems to 
shiver with the force of his 
voice, and Sandy's eyes 
widen in shock, her paws 
trembling.

"I'm sorry, Plankton," she 
stammers, her voice 
quavering. "I didn't mean..."

But he shouts, his 
voice echoing off the 
walls. "It's not a game,
Sandy! It's not for fun!"

The room seems to 
shrink around him, his 
words a storm raging 
in the quiet sanctity 
of his bedroom. Sandy 
flinches back, her eyes 
wide with shock and fear.

"Sandy not understand!" 
Plankton screams, his 
small body shaking with 
the intensity of his 
frustration. "And not 
about the Krabby Patty 
formula anymore! SANDY, 
STOP!"

Sandy's eyes widen in 
fear, her heart racing. 
This isn't the Plankton 
she knows. His rage 
is uncontrolled, his voice 
a knife cutting through 
the calm.

"Plankton, please," she whispers, 
her voice trembling. "I just...I 
want to understand."

But Plankton is beyond 
reason, his eye wild with 
frustration. "It's not a tantrum!"
he screams, his antennae 
quivering with rage.

Karen moves quickly, 
placing herself between 
Plankton and Sandy, her 
body a shield.
"Plankton," she says, 
her voice a gentle breeze 
against the storm of his 
rage. "You're upset. It's 
okay."

Sandy sighs. "Is he gonna
throw another..."

"NO!" Plankton shouts, his 
voice like thunder in the 
small space. "It's not a 
tantrum!"

Karen's eyes are filled 
with a mix of fear and 
determination as she 
intervenes.

"Plankton," she says, her 
voice a soothing balm, 
cutting through the storm 
of his anger. "You're 
upset, and that's okay. But 
please, let's talk about it 
calmly."

Plankton's antennae 
quiver, his eye flickering 
between Karen and 
Sandy. His chest heaves 
with the effort to contain 
his rage, his body a 
coiled spring ready to snap.

Karen's voice remains 
steady, a lighthouse in 
his chaotic sea. "Let's 
talk about it," she repeats, 
her tone soothing.

Plankton's body relaxes 
slightly, his antennae 
still twitching with 
residual anger. "It's not 
a tantrum," he says, his 
voice a harsh whisper. 
"It's...overwhelming."

Karen nods, her eyes 
never leaving his. "I know, 
sweetheart," she says, her 
voice a gentle caress. "Let's 
talk about it."

Sandy watches from 
the sidelines, her heart 
still racing. She's seen 
Plankton's fiery spirit, his 
sharp intellect, but this 
new side of him is 
frightening. "But..."

"It's his autism," Karen 
explains gently, her 
hand on his shoulder. 
"He can't always handle 
the world's chaos. And
I understand you meant
to see if he's okay..."
"NOT A TANTRUM! NO 
MORE, ENOUGH SANDY!"
Plankton snaps.
"I'm just telling her not to
say it. What other wording
can we use instead, Plankton?"
Karen rubs his arm.
Plankton's antennae 
quiver, his eye searching
his brain for a solution. "Shutdown,"
he murmurs, his voice 
barely audible. "Spasm's, Pauses.
Moment or mishap. Yes, yes."

Sandy nods, her 
expression a mix of 
understanding and 
concern. "I'll remember 
that," she says, her voice 
soft. "I'm sorry, Plankton.
I didn't mean to upset you."

Plankton's antennae 
slowing. "I'm sorry
Plankton," he 
mumbles, his voice 
exhausted.

Karen nods, her screen 
filled with love. "It's 
okay, love," she says, 
helping him sit back down. 
"You're okay."

Plankton nods, his 
body still trembling with 
the aftershocks of his 
outburst.

Sandy watches him, 
her eyes wide with 
understanding. "I'm 
sorry," she whispers, her 
heart heavy with regret.

Plankton's antennae 
quiver slightly.

"Well, I best be going,"
Sandy says.

new karen has a lesson Karen x Plankton 13

(Autistic author)

Plankton has autism,
which only he and
Karen know about.
They're able to keep
it a secret, per Plankton's
request, even from
their son Chip.

So when Chip comes
home early from 
football, he's surprised
to see his dad staring
at the blank wall as his
mom rubs his back.

"Is everything okay?"
he asks, stepping
into the room.

Plankton's eye
is unfocused,
his body rigid,
like he's stuck in
some invisible vice.
Karen's hand pauses
on his shoulder,
and she turns to
face Chip, her smile
forced. "Yeah, just a
little...spell," she says.

Plankton's absence seizure
has struck without warning.
It's like a silent storm
passing through the room,
leaving no trace except
the vacant look in his eye.

The room seems to
shrink around them
as Chip takes in his
dad's unblinking stare.
He's never seen this.
"Should I get help?"
Chip's voice cracks.

Karen shakes her head
quickly, her eyes
swimming with unshed
tears. "No, it's fine.
Just...give us a
minute." She waves
a hand, trying to
dismiss the concern
that has etched itself
on Chip's features.

But Chip lingers,
his gaze flickering
between his parents.
"What's happening?"
he whispers.

Karen sighs, her
hand dropping to her
side. She looks at
Plankton. "It's
just something your
dad has," she says,
choosing her words
carefully. "It's like
his brain goes on
pause for a bit."

Chip watches as
his dad's chest rises
and falls in a steady
rhythm, the only
indication that he's
still present in the
physical world. "But
what do you mean?"
his eyes search hers
for understanding.

Karen's eyes flit to
Plankton before returning
to Chip's. She takes a
deep breath, bracing
herself. "It's
not dangerous, just a
little scary-looking."

The silence stretches
until it feels like a
rubber band about to
snap. Chip's curiosity
overpowers his fear.
He takes a tentative
step closer.

"Does he know we're
here?" Chip whispers.

"Not really," Karen murmurs,
"But he'll come back to us."

Chip reaches out, a tremor
in his fingertips, and
touches Plankton's arm,
but the seizure doesn't
seem to notice.

"Dad?" Chip whispers,
his voice a soft echo
in the stillness.

Plankton's body remains
stiff as a statue,
his gaze fixed on a
spot somewhere beyond
the wallpaper's pattern.
Karen's hand moves to
cover Chip's, her touch
warm and reassuring.
"It's okay," she whispers
back, "It's part of him.
Don't poke or shake him,
just let it pass."

The seconds tick by,
each one feeling heavier
than the last. Chip's
heart thuds in his chest,
his mind racing with
questions and fear.
He's never seen his
dad like this before,
so...so vulnerable.

As the seizure slowly
releases its grip, Plankton
blinks, his eye refocusing
on the room. He looks
confused, like he's waking
from a deep sleep. Karen's
smile relaxes, the tension
in her shoulders easing.
Plankton turns to her,
his gaze flickering with
recognition before
falling on Chip.

"Chip?" His voice is
raspy.

Karen nods at Chip,
silently urging him to
speak. "Yeah, Dad, it's me."

Plankton's expression
shifts. "What...what happened?"
his voice is frail.

Chip opens his mouth,
but Karen steps in
quickly. "You had a little
moment, that's all. Nothing
to worry about," she says, her
tone light. But her hand is
still on Plankton's back,
ready to provide support
if needed.

Plankton's eye darts around,
his hands clenching and unclenching
as if trying to remember
how to interact with the
world again. He notices
Chip's hand reaching out and
flinches slightly, his discomfort
with physical contact clear.

Chip, sensing this, pulls his
hand back, his cheeks flushing.
He's always known his dad was
a bit...different. Quirky.
But he's never seen this side
of him.

"It's okay," Karen says, her voice
soothing as she squeezes Plankton's
hand. "You're okay."

Plankton nods, his mind
slowly untangling from the
cotton wool fog of the seizure.
He looks around the room,
familiar objects snapping back
into focus. His eye lands
on Chip, who's watching him
with a mix of worry and curiosity.
He clears his throat. "Just a...moment.
I'm fine now." He tries to smile,
but it feels awkward and forced.

Chip's eyes don't leave him. 
"What was that?"
he asks, his voice still low.

Karen looks at Plankton. It's time.
"Your dad has something
called autism, Chip," she says.
"It's like his brain works in
a special way."

Chip's eyes widen. "What does
that mean?"

Karen sits down beside Plankton,
who's still gathering himself.

"It's like...sometimes, his brain
takes a little break from the world,"
she explains gently, her hand still
on his shoulder. "It can be
overwhelming, with all the sounds,
sights, and people around."

Chip nods slowly, trying 
to grasp the concept.

Plankton swallows hard,
his mind racing. He's always
been so careful to hide
this part of himself, not
wanting to be seen as
less than or weird.

But as he looks at Chip,
his heart swells with a mix
of fear and hope. What if
his son can't understand?
What if this changes
everything?

Karen gives him a nod,
encouraging him to go on.
With a deep breath, Plankton
starts to speak. "You know
how sometimes you get really
focused on something and
the world just fades away?"

Chip nods.

"Well, for me, it's like 
that," Plankton says, his voice
steadying. "But sometimes, my brain does it
without me asking. It's like my thoughts are a TV
with too many channels playing at once, and it
just...shuts off for a bit to give me a break."

Chip nods, trying to 
imagine what that's like.
"Does it hurt?"

Plankton shakes his head.
"Well, it's just...different.
Sometimes I don't realize,
sometimes it's tough."

Chip looks up at him,
his eyes full of questions
and a nascent empathy.
"Can you control..."

"No Chip, I can't 
'control' it!" He
snaps back.

"Hey hey, it's okay," Karen whispers,
meeting his gaze. "He's
not judging you, Plankton."

Plankton takes a deep breath,
his eye fluttering shut. "I know,"
he murmurs, but his tone is
anything but convinced.

Chip's gaze softens, his
fear replaced with a
determined curiosity.
"What's it like?" he asks,
his voice gentle.

Plankton's shoulders rise
and fall with a sigh.
"It's like being in a
little bubble," he says,
his eye distant. "Everything's
far away, muffled. And when
it's over, it's like...like
popping back into reality."

Chip's curiosity grows,
his mind racing with questions.
"But why do you keep it a secret?"
he asks, his voice tentative.

Karen looks to Plankton,
who's still visibly shaken.
"We didn't want it to define you,"
she says softly. "We wanted you
to see him as just your dad,
not as someone with a label."

Plankton nods. "And I didn't
want to be different," he adds,
his voice barely above a whisper.

Chip considers this, his gaze
flitting from his dad to the
ground. "But you are," he says,
his voice earnest. "You're 
my dad, even with your..."
He stumbles over the word
"...seizures."

Karen's eyes fill with pride
at her son's acceptance.
Plankton's tension how
ever, heightens at Chip's
description.

"It's not a seizure,"
he corrects, his voice
slightly defensive.

Chip looks confused.
"But it looks like it,"
he says, frowning.

Karen nods. "It's similar,
but not the same," she explains
before Plankton can interject.
"It's part of your dad's autism."

Chip looks at Plankton, his
eyes searching for something
he's never noticed before.
"But why did you keep it
a secret?" he asks again.

Plankton's gaze drifts
to the floor, his voice
soft. "Because people
can be cruel, son," he says,
his words heavy. "They
don't always understand."

Chip nods, his eyes
welling up with tears. "But I
do," he says, his voice
shaking. "I mean, I don't get
it all, but I understand
that you're still you."

Plankton's expression
softens, his fear of
rejection dissipating slightly.
He looks up at Karen,
his gaze filled with
gratitude. She gives him
a small smile, her eyes
telling him it's okay to be
his true self.

new Written by AI Karen x Plankton Karen/Chip Plankton II plankton

KAREN HAS A LESSON pt. 3
(Autistic author)

KAREN HAS A LESSON pt. 3
(Autistic author)

"Sorry," Plankton says, his 
tone still flat. "Plankton, sorry.
Plankton's brain different now. Difficult 
for Karen?"

Karen shakes her head, tears 
welling in her eyes. "No, Plankton, 
you're still you," she says, trying to 
smile. "I just wanted to understand."

Plankton nods, his gaze returning 
to the brain scan. "Understanding 
important," he says. "Plankton still 
loves Karen. Just different now. 
Permanent."

Karen breaks at his 
words, but she knows he's trying.
They sit in silence for a few moments,
each lost in their own thoughts.

Finally, Karen takes a deep breath.
"I love you, Plankton," she says, her voice
steady. "And I'll always be here for you,
no matter what." Plankton nods, his 
expression unchanged. "Karen love 
Plankton," he responds. "Plankton love 
Karen."

They sit together on the couch, 
the silence between them heavy 
with the weight of their new 
reality. Karen tries to find comfort in 
the familiar rhythm of his words, but 
it's like hugging a statue. There's no 
warmth, no give. But she can tell by
the look in his eye that it's present.

"Plankton," she says softly, her 
voice trembling slightly. "Do you 
want to go to the anniversary dinner?"

He pauses, his gaze unwavering 
from the brain scan. "Anniversary 
dinner," he repeats, as if tasting the 
words. Then, with a sudden nod, 
"Plankton will accompany 
Karen."

Karen swells with hope. 
Maybe this wasn't the end of their 
connection. Maybe they could find a 
new way to be together.

"But Plankton," she says, her 
voice tentative. "I need you to be 
comfortable. If going out is too 
much for you, we can do something 
else."

Plankton's antennae twitch, his 
face contemplative. "Understood," he 
says after a moment. "Home dinner 
preferred. Less stimulating."

Karen nods, feeling a weight lift 
slightly from her chest. "Okay," 
she says, swiping at a stray tear.
"We can have dinner here. I'll 
make your favorite."

Plankton's antennae perk up at 
the mention of food. "Karen cook?" 
he asks, his voice betraying a hint 
of excitement.

Karen smiles, relieved at 
his interest. "Yes, I'll cook," she says. 
"How about some Chum?"

Plankton nods eagerly. "Chum. Yes."

Karen rises from the couch, 
determined to make the best 
of the situation. She heads to 
the kitchen, her mind racing with 
ideas for a simple yet delicious 
meal that would be easy on 
his senses. She chooses a recipe
that doesn't have too many ingredients
or smells that might overwhelm him.

As she starts cooking, Plankton 
watches her with his newfound 
detachment, his eye following her 
movements with a clinical interest. 
It's as if he's studying her, trying 
to understand her actions.

"Plankton," Karen says, trying to 
engage him, "can you help me set the 
table?"

Plankton nods, his movements 
mechanical as he rises from the 
couch. He takes the plates and 
utensils she hands him and arranges 
them with meticulous precision. Each 
item is placed exactly 1.5 centimeters 
apart, the forks and knives aligned at a 
perfect right angle. It's something 
she's never noticed him do before, 
but it's a part of him now.

As she stirs the pot of simmering 
chum, she glances over at him, 
his single eye focused intently on 
the task at hand. She wipes a tear 
from her eye, her heart heavy. But 
she can't dwell on the sadness. 
They have a life to live, and they'll 
figure this out together.

"Plankton," she calls out, trying 
to keep her voice light. "Could you 
please grab the napkins?"

He nods and heads to the drawer, 
his steps measured and deliberate. 
When he returns, he doesn't hand 
them to her but instead counts them 
out loud. "One, two." He 
holds up both napkins, one for 
each place setting. "Is this 
correct?"

Karen nods, her smile tight. "Yes, 
thank you." She tries not to let 
the sadness seep into her voice.
This was their new norm, a dance 
of understanding and patience that 
they were still learning.

As they sit down to eat, Karen 
notices that Plankton doesn't touch 
his food until she does.

"You don't have to wait for me," 
she says gently, trying to ease into 
their new routine. "You can start 
whenever you're ready."

Plankton nods, his movements 
precise and deliberate as he takes 
his first bite. Karen watches him 
carefully, noticing that he's chewing 
his food much slower than 
normal. She wonders if it's because 
his sensory input has changed or if 
it's just part of the neurodivergence.

They eat in silence, the only 
sound being the occasional clink 
of their utensils and the bubbling 
of the chum. Karen tries to 
think of something to say, something 
that won't cause him discomfort or 
confusion. But her mind is a 
whirlwind of questions and fears.

"Plankton," she says tentatively, 
"Do you like the chum?"

He nods, his movements methodical. 
"Chum. Yes. Good." His voice is 
still flat, but she can see the faintest 
glimmer of satisfaction in his eye.

They continue their meal, Karen 
forcing down bites while her mind 
spins with a whirlwind of emotions. 
Fear, sadness, hope, and love all 
intermingling in a tumultuous storm.

"Plankton," she says, her voice 
soft and tentative. "What are you 
thinking about?"

He looks up from his plate, 
his eye focusing on her for a 
moment before returning to his 
food. "Thinking," he says, his 
voice monotone. "Plankton thinking 
about Karen. And Plankton with Karen."

Karen aches at his 
response, but she tries to keep her 
expression neutral. "Do you like 
spending time with me?" she asks, 
desperation tingeing her voice.

Plankton pauses, his 
eye flicking up to meet hers. 
"Plankton enjoys 
Karen's company."

Karen clenches at 
his words, so devoid of the 
warmth they once held. But 
she knows she has to be 
patient, to give him space to 
navigate this new world. 
"Do you enjoy talking to 
me, Plankton?"

He considers this for a 
moment before nodding. "Talking 
is good. Plankton learns 
things. Plankton feels safe."

Karen feels a tear roll down 
her screen. "That's all I want," 
she whispers, reaching out 
to squeeze his hand. His grip is 
firm, but there's no warmth in it.
It's as if he's trying to mimic 
the physical cue of comfort without
understanding the emotional 
connection.

"Karen crying sad?" He asks
retreating his hand.

"I'm sorry," she says, her voice 
cracking. "I didn't mean to hurt 
you earlier. I just wanted to spend 
our anniversary together."

Plankton nods, his expression 
unreadable. "Understood," he says. 
"Anniversary. Special."

new karen has a lesson Karen x Plankton Karen & Sheldon J. Plankton plaren 3

JUST A TOUCH iv
(Autistic author)


The next day, Karen woke up
to a meticulously organized
kitchen. Plankton was already
up, his movements sharp and
focused as he arranged the
cutlery in the drawer. "Good
morning, Plankton," she said,
her voice tentative.

He looked up, his expression
neutral. "Good morning, Karen,"
he replied, his voice monotone.
Her heart squeezed. This was
not the man who used to greet
her with a cheeky smile and a sigh 
every morning. But she pushed the
sorrow aside and focused on
the task at hand: making
breakfast.

As she began to prep the
meal, Plankton hovered nearby,
his antennae twitching.

"Would you like to help me?"
she asked, holding out a spatula.
He took it with both hands,
his movements mechanical as he
followed her instructions to the
letter. The sizzle of the
chum on the pan seemed to
calm him, his gaze flicking
between her face and the food.

Plankton's meticulousness
extended to their breakfast.
Every ingredient measured to
the exact milliliter, every
step in the recipe followed
without deviation. Karen
watched him, a mix of amazement
and sadness swirling inside her.

As they sat down to eat,
Karen noticed his eye darting
between his plate and the clock.
"Is something wrong?" she
asked, trying to keep her voice
light. Plankton's gaze snapped
to hers, his antennae still. "Must eat at 7:00,"
he said, his voice tight. "It's okay,
we're a little late," she said,
trying to soothe him. "But we're
together, and that's what
matters."

Plankton took a bite of
his perfectly arranged breakfast,
his eye not leaving the clock.
"Seven minutes, thirty-four seconds
until 7:00," he murmured. Karen's
throat tightened, but she forced
a smile. "We'll be done before
then," she assured him.

The meal was finished in
silence, Plankton's precision
contrasting with Karen's
clumsy attempts to match his rhythm.
As they cleared the table,
his movements were a dance
of order and control, while
hers were stilted, filled with
nervous glances.

In the living room, Plankton
moved to his favorite chair,
his eye immediately drawn to
the bookshelf. His gaze
flitted over the books. Karen
watched, her heart heavy with
the weight of their new reality.

The doctor had suggested
that engaging in familiar activities
could help with the transition.
Hoping to ease the tension, she
offered, "Would you like a work
book?"

Plankton nodded, his antennae
still. Karen retrieved one from
his collection, handing it to
him with care. He took it in his
hands. It was clear that
his intellect had not been
diminished, but rather had been
reshaped by his condition.

Moments later, Hanna
came in. She knows
Karen's married, but
she doesn't know any
thing else about Plankton.

Hanna's smile was wide
and welcoming as she
saw the two of them. "Hi,
I'm Karen's friend Hanna,"
she said, extending a hand.
Plankton looked at it and
then went back to his book.

Karen stepped in, her voice
soft. "Plankton, this is
Hanna," she said, gesturing
between them. "Hanna, this
is my husband, Plankton."
Hanna's smile faltered
slightly, noticing the
distance in Plankton's gaze.

"Hi, Plankton," Hanna said,
her tone gentle. "It's nice
to meet you." Plankton's antennae
twitched, his gaze shifting
to her briefly before returning
to the book.

Karen watched the
interaction, her heart racing.
How would Hanna react to him?
Will Plankton like her? Would she
still want to be friends with
her?

Hanna looked from Karen
to Plankton and back, her smile
slightly puzzled. "Is he okay?"
she asked quietly. Karen nodded.
"He's just focused" she said, her voice
hitching. "I'll go fix us up some
chumbalaya."

After Karen left, Hanna sat
right up next to Plankton.

"Hi, Plankton," she said again.
He glanced at her, then back
at his book. She waited, leaning
forward slightly.

Finally, he spoke without looking up.
"Hello, Hanna. Karen's friend. Good."
It was a statement, not
a question or a greeting. Her curiosity
was piqued by this odd behavior.

Hanna watched as Plankton
continued to study the book, his
tiny hands flipping pages with a
quickness she hadn't seen before.
He was like a different creature,
his movements calculated. She knew
something was off, but she wasn't sure
what. So she decides to try getting him
to interact.

"What are you reading?"
she asked, leaning closer.
Plankton's antennae shot up.
"It's a book," he replied,
his voice flat.

Hanna laughed, mistaking
his bluntness for shyness.
"I know that," she said, her tone
playful as she leaned closer.
"But what's it about?"

Plankton's antennae
twitched, his eye narrowing
slightly. "It's about... puzzles?"

Hanna's eyes widened. "Puzzles?"
she repeated, leaning in even closer.
Her proximity was making him uncomfortable,
his body stiffening like a board.
"What kind of puzzles?"

Plankton's gaze darted to her
before returning to the book.
"Word's," he said, his voice
sharp as he focused on the page.
The way he said it was a clear
message to back off, but Hanna
was oblivious to the cues.

"Oh, words puzzles!" she exclaimed,
clapping her hands together.
"I love those! Can I see?"
Without waiting for an answer,
she reached for the book, brushing
against his hand. Plankton
flinched, his antennae drooping.

Hanna's cheerfulness didn't wane
as she flipped through the pages,
exclaiming over the puzzles.
"This looks like FUN!" she said, 
not taking note of how Plankton's
body was taut with tension.

"It's a good book," Plankton said,
his voice devoid of emotion.
He was trying to be polite, but
the sensory overload was
building inside him. The way
she talked, the way she moved,
the sound of her voice—it was
all too much.

Hanna, still beaming,
turned the page and pointed at
a particularly complex puzzle.
"Look at this one! Can you do it?"
she challenged, her finger
tapping the page impatiently.
Plankton's eye 
darted to the puzzle,
his mind racing. 
He didn't want to disappoint
but the pressure
was too intense. 
He can't think!

"Sure," he stuttered,
his voice small. 
Hanna clapped her hands, 
excitedly. "Great! Let's see
how fast you can solve it!"

Plankton felt his heart
racing, his antennae drooping.
The pressure to perform
was suffocating him.
He looked at the puzzle,
his mind racing through possible
word combinations, his eye
darting from letter to letter, but
Hanna interrupts him again.

"Come on, Plankton! I bet
you're really good at these!"
Her excitement was palpable,
but Plankton could only feel
his chest tightening. He wanted
to scream, to tell her to stop,
but the words remained trapped
behind the wall of his new
social ineptitude.

He took the book, his
hands shaking slightly as
his eye scanned the puzzle.
The letters swam before him,
his mind racing to keep up with
the barrage of sensory input.

"Don't be shy," she said,
nudging him. "You can do it!"

Plankton felt the weight of
Hanna's enthusiasm like an
anvil on his shoulders. His
grip on the book tightened.
He had always been good at
word puzzles, but now they
felt like a labyrinth with no
exit. The room spun around
him, the pressure to perform
building like a storm in
his chest.

But Hanna's energy
was like a tsunami, unstoppable.
"You know, I used to be really
bad at these," she said,
sitting closer, her knees
touching his. "But I got so much
better with practice!"

Plankton felt his skin
crawl, the need to escape
intensifying. He was trapped
in a conversation he hadn't
asked for, with a person who
was oblivious to his plight.
He took a deep breath,
his eye scanning the room
for a way out.

"How about we try one
together?" Hanna suggested,
her voice bubbly. Plankton's
heart hammered in his chest.

Hanna didn't seem to notice
his distress, her screen shining
with excitement. "It'll be
fun! Just tell me the letters
you see, and I'll guess the words!"

Plankton's antennae drooped,
his shoulders tense. He
wanted to scream, to tell
her to leave him alone. But
his newfound condition made
the words catch in his throat.

"Fine," he said, his voice
barely above a whisper. Hanna's
screen lit up, and she leaned in
even closer. "Great!" she exclaimed.
"I'll start with 'C'. What
do you see?"

Plankton's gaze remained
steadfast on the book, his
eye darting from letter to letter.
He can't see anything with all...

Hanna's voice cut through
his thoughts like a knife,
sharp and demanding. "C'mon,
Plankton, don't be shy! Tell me
what you see!" Her hand reached
out, grabbing his arm. The sudden
touch sent a jolt through him.

Plankton flinched, his
body reacting before his mind
could form a coherent thought.
His antennae shot up, and he
pulled away, knocking over
the book in the process. The
sound echoed in the room like
thunder.

Hanna's smile faltered,
confusion clouding her features.
"What's wrong?" she asked,
genuinely concerned as she
cups his head; and that's it.

The dam bursts. Plankton's
body goes rigid, his
eye wide with pain. He can't
take it anymore—the touch,
the noise, the pressure, his hand
flailing to shove her away.

"STOP!" he screams, his
voice cracking.

Hanna's hand retreats as if burned.
Her smile fades, replaced by a
look of shock and concern. "What
happened?" she asks, turning him
towards her with her hands on his
shoulders. Which is when he stops
moving, unblinking as Karen
comes back in.

Karen sets the chumbalaya aside
as she notices his unresponsiveness.

"Plankton?" she calls out,
concern etching her voice.
Hanna turns to her, her eyes wide.
"I don't think he's okay," she says,
her hand hovering over his shoulder.

Karen's heart drops as she
rushes over, her eyes scanning
his frozen form. "It's okay,"
she murmurs, gently guiding
Hanna away. "Let me handle this."

new just a touch hannacore iv

me📱4️⃣

new mephone4 ii iii OBJECTSHOW

KAREN HAS A LESSON pt. 9
(Autistic author)


Karen's voice is a soft 
lullaby in the chaos, guiding 
Plankton's gaze to her screen. 
"Look at me," she whispers.
"Only me." She holds his 
hand, her thumb tracing 
small circles on his palm, 
the sensation grounding him 
ever so slightly. His breathing 
slows, but only a touch.

The room seems to pulse 
around him, a cacophony 
of colors and sounds, but 
Karen's eyes are a safe 
haven. They're familiar, 
their warmth reaching 
through the fog in his 
brain. He tries to focus 
on her, to ignore the 
sounds that are too loud, 
the lights that are too bright.

"Breathe," she whispers, 
her hand on his chest, 
guiding his erratic 
respiration into a calmer 
rhythm. His 
breaths become shallower, 
his antennae gradually 
stilling.

But the world around them
doesn't. The kitchen clock 
ticked loudly, a metronome
of chaos in Plankton's 
disordered mind. Karen 
notices his distress and 
quickly wraps him in a 
soft blanket, creating a 
cocoon of quiet. "Only me," 
she says, her voice 
soothing. "Only my voice."

Plankton's antennae stop 
twitching, his body still 
within the embrace of the 
blanket. His eye focuses 
on a single point on the 
wall, the only thing that 
doesn't shift and change.

"Only me," Karen repeats, 
her voice the one steady 
beacon in the storm of 
sensory input. She watches 
his chest rise and fall, 
her heart breaking at 
his pain.

The ticking clock becomes 
a monster in Plankton's 
mind, each second a taunt, 
a reminder of the chaos 
he can't escape. His hand 
grips hers tightly, his 
entire being seeking 
solace in her touch.

Sandy watches from 
the shadows, her heart 
heavy with regret. "What 
have I done?" she whispers 
to herself, her voice 
barely audible over the 
whirlwind of Plankton's 
distress.

The ticking clock seems to 
grow louder, its metronome 
beat echoing through 
Plankton's skull like a 
sledgehammer. His 
body starts to convulse, 
his grip on Karen's hand 
becoming painfully tight.

"Plankton," Karen whispers, 
desperation coating her voice. 
"Look at me, love. Just 
me." But her words 
seem to fade into the 
cacophony, lost in the 
sensory assault.

His pupil dilates, his 
entire being consumed by 
the relentless ticking. 
The wallpaper's pattern 
swirls before him, a dizzying 
maelstrom of colors and 
shapes that he can't make 
sense of. The soft 
pressure of Karen's hand is 
his only anchor in this 
storm of input.

Karen's voice is a distant 
whisper, her touch the 
only thing keeping him 
tethered to reality. He 
can feel her warmth, her 
love, but it's fading fast.

The room spins, the 
colors bleed into one 
another, and the clock's 
ticking becomes a 
thunderous roar. Plankton's 
breaths come in short, 
sharp gasps as he tries 
to escape the prison of 
his own senses.

Karen's eyes are wet with 
tears, her heart breaking 
as she watches her husband 
suffer. "Shh," she whispers, 
rocking him gently. "It's 
okay. I'm here."

The room falls silent as 
Sandy holds her breath, 
the only sound the ticking 
of the clock that seems 
to mock them with its 
relentless rhythm. Plankton's 
body gradually stills, his 
convulsions giving way to 
twitches. His 
hand slackens in hers, the 
tension draining from his 
fingers.

Karen's eyes never leave 
his face, her voice a soft 
whisper in the quiet. "Look 
at me," she says, her voice 
full of love and 
determination. "You're safe 
with me."

But Plankton is gone, lost 
in the labyrinth of his mind. 
His body is a statue, 
frozen in the grip of 
autism's cruel embrace. His 
eye, once vibrant and full of 
life, is now a dull, glazed 
orbit, staring into the 
distance. The clock's ticking 
has become a muffled 
throb, a background noise to 
his internal crisis.

Karen's voice is a distant 
whisper, her love a warmth 
he can't quite feel through 
the fog of his disordered 
thoughts. She holds him, 
rocking gently, her screen 
filled with a desperate hope.

Sandy, from her corner, 
can't tear her gaze away. 
The sight of Plankton, usually 
so vibrant and scheming, 
reduced to a trembling 
shell is a stark reality 
she never anticipated.
Guilt weighs heavy on her 
shoulders.

Karen feels the weight 
of his hand in hers. It's 
a silent communication, 
his only way of telling her 
that he's still with her, even 
if he can't say the words.

Sandy wants to help, inching
closer but still giving space.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, 
her voice thick with guilt.

Plankton remains unmoving, 
his body tense and rigid 
under the blanket. Karen 
holds him tightly, her own 
body shaking with sobs. 
"Come back to me," she 
pleads, her voice 
desperate.

The clock's ticking seems to
slow, each second a
torturous eternity. Sandy 
stands still, her eyes 
fixed on the tragic scene 
before her, unable to 
offer comfort or 
understanding.

Karen's sobs become 
whispers, her voice 
barely audible. "Come back," 
she pleads, her grip on 
his hand unyielding. "I need 
you." The silence stretches 
between them, thick and 
oppressive, filled only 
with the relentless ticking.

The room feels like it's 
shrinking around them, 
the walls closing in. Plankton's 
body is a statue.

Karen's voice is the 
only thing that pierces 
the veil of his panic, 
her touch the only thing 
that feels real. She whispers 
his name, her voice 
soothing like a lullaby.

Slowly, Plankton's hand 
twitches, his antennae 
lifting slightly. The 
ticking of the clock 
becomes background noise 
again, the wallpaper's pattern 
ceases its maddening 
dance. But he still otherwise
remains unmoving, unblinking.

Sandy tries to engage
with him. "Plankton, buddy,
do you wanna talk about
what happened?" But he 
doesn't respond, his gaze 
locked on the wall. "Can
you tell me what's wrong?"
she asks, her voice gentle.

Karen shakes her head,
wiping away her tears. "He's
in a shutdown," she explains 
quietly. "It's like his brain 
has gone into overload 
and he can't process anything."

Sandy nods, yet tries a
different approach.

"Hey, Plankton," she says 
softly, her voice a 
contrast to her earlier 
boisterousness. "What do you 
see when you look at that wall?"

He doesn't answer, his 
body as still as the 
pictures hanging on the 
wall. Sandy's eyes 
well up with tears, her 
heart breaking for her 
friend. "Plankton, are you 
dreaming?" she asks, peering
over.

"Back," Karen whispers, 
not taking her screen off 
Plankton. "He's in a 
bad place right now."

Sandy nods, her eyes 
swimming with tears. She 
understands now, the gravity 
of the situation dawning 
on her. "I'll make it right,"
she says, her voice 
determined. "I'll help you."

Karen looks up at her, her 
own eyes red and puffy. 
"Thank you," she whispers, 
gratitude thick in her 
throat. "But for now, just 
let it be. We need to wait 
until he comes back to us."

Sandy nods solemnly, 
backing away to give 
them space. She sits at the 
end of the couch.

new karen has a lesson Karen x Plankton 9

KAREN HAS A LESSON pt. 14
(Autistic author)

The next day, Karen
wakes up to find Plankton
already out of bed, 
his eye fixated on the
clock again. Then, a
knock on the door alerted
both of them. It's Hanna,
an old friend of Karen's.

"Hanna? Oh, it's been so
long!" Karen exclaims
as she throws her arms
around Hanna, whom
Plankton noticed also
reciprocated the gesture.
So he decided to go sit on
the couch.

"Oh you're Karen's husband
Plankton, right‽" Hanna says.
Plankton nods as Karen gets
out some refreshments.

Hanna sits next to Plankton
on the couch, her smile 
genuine but her tone 
playful. "So, Plankton, 
I hear you and Karen had
a wedding anniversary!
Did you get her anything, or
did Karen have to remind
you? I bet you cause her
so much trouble with your
forgetfulness," she laughs.
"It's a wonder she keeps 
you around."
Of course, Karen didn't hear
Hanna's playful comment,
as she's still gathering the
refreshments.

But Plankton does. His 
eye widens, his antennae 
twitching rapidly. He feels 
the sting of her words, 
though they were meant 
to be light-hearted. His 
body tenses, his mind 
racing. He knows he's not 
forgetful; he's different. 
The patterns of his 
thoughts clash with her 
joke, creating a cacophony 
of confusion and hurt. He
doesn't understand the teasing
and takes it to heart, thinking
he must've caused her trouble.

He wordlessly leaves to the
bedroom right before Karen
returns with the refreshments.

"Where's Plankton?" She asks
Hanna, who pointed the direction
he went.

Karen finds him 
in the bedroom, 
crying and saying
'Karen' in between 
his hiccups. His 
body is rigid with 
the effort of holding 
in his sobs.

Her heart squeezes 
with pain as she 
rushes to him, her 
arms wrapping around 
his small frame. "What's 
wrong, love?" she 
whispers, her voice 
filled with concern.

Plankton's body 
shakes with sobs, 
his antennae limp. 
"Hanna," he manages to 
whisper, his voice 
choked with emotion.

Karen's eyes fill with 
concern. "What about 
Hanna, sweetheart?" she asks, 
her voice gentle.

Plankton sniffs, 
his antennae waving 
slightly. "Hanna said...she 
said..." He can't get the 
words out, his emotions 
choking him.

Karen holds him 
closer, her voice a 
whisper. "What did 
Hanna say, love?"

Plankton's sobs 
intensify, his body 
shaking with the 
force of his emotions. 
"Plankton," he manages 
to say, his voice a 
heartbreaking gasp.

Karen's heart breaks. 
"What did she say, love?"
she prompts, her voice 
soft, her eyes filled with 
understanding.

Plankton's antennae 
twitch in agitation. "Hanna 
said Plankton cause 
Karen trouble,"
he whispers, his voice 
barely audible over the 
sound of his own 
sobs. "Karen better if
Plankton not here."

Karen's eyes fill with 
sorrow, her heart 
heavy with the weight 
of his misunderstanding. 
"Oh, Plankton," she 
whispers, her voice 
filled with love and 
pain. "That was just a 
joke, she didn't mean..."

But Plankton's sobs 
only grow louder, his 
body shaking with the 
intensity of his emotions. 
"Karen doesn't 
deserve this," he 
sobs, his antennae 
waving erratically.

Karen holds him 
closer, her voice 
a gentle lullaby. "You 
don't cause me trouble, 
love," she says, her eyes 
filled with tears. "You're 
just...different now."

Plankton's antennae 
twitch with understanding, 
his sobs slowly subsiding. 
"But Hanna..." he says, 
his voice a whimper. "Not
want!"

Karen nods, her eyes 
never leaving his. "I know, 
love," she says, her voice 
soft. "But she'd never mean 
it that way. She was just 
being playful, she's nice."

Plankton shakes his head,
unconvinced. "Hanna did
laugh at Plankton. Plankton
not cause trouble," he says, 
his voice shaking with 
emotion. "Karen Plankton.
Plankton loves Karen; Karen
and Hanna no..." Plankton
can't hold the sobbing back.

Karen's eyes fill with 
tears. "Oh, Plankton,"
she says, her voice 
breaking. "Hanna loves 
you too. She didn't mean 
it like that. It was just 
a misunderstanding."

Plankton's antennae 
wave in a pattern that 
Karen's learned means 
he's processing her words, 
trying to fit them into 
his new reality. "But 
Hanna said..." His voice 
trails off, as Hanna herself
comes in.

"Is everything okay 
in here? Or is Plankton
causing..." she asks, 
her smile fading when 
she sees Plankton's tears.

Karen turns to Hanna, 
her expression stern. 
"What happened?"

Hanna's eyes widen 
in surprise. "I just said 
hello, and he ran in here 
crying," she says, her voice 
filled with concern.

Karen's screen tightens 
with frustration. "What 
exactly did you say?" she 
asks, her voice calm but 
firm.

Hanna's eyes widen 
in understanding. "Oh, no,"
she says, her voice 
softening. "I just made a 
joke about your anniversary.
I didn't mean..."

But Plankton's 
sobs only grow louder, 
his antennae flailing 
wildly. "Hanna said 
Plankton cause trouble,"
he accuses, his body 
wracked with emotion.
"Not joke!"

Hanna's eyes 
widen in horror, 
her playful smile 
vanishing as she 
sees the pain in Plankton's 
eye. She rushes over, 
kneeling beside him.
"Plankton, no," she 
whispers, her voice 
filled with regret.
"It was just a joke. I'm 
so sorry, I didn't mean..."

But Plankton's sobs 
only intensify, his 
body a storm of 
emotions he can't 
control. "IT'S NOT 
A JOKE!" he cries out.

Hanna's eyes fill 
with tears as she 
realizes the gravity 
of her mistake. 
"Plankton, I'm so sorry,"
she whispers, her 
hand reaching out to 
touch his shoulder.

But Plankton's 
reaction is explosive, 
his antennae 
lashing out like whips.
"NO!" he screams, his 
voice a tornado of pain 
and anger. "ENOUGH HURT!"

Hanna looks at Karen. "How
often you say he throws these
fitful tantrums?" Hanna says,
which is the final straw for Plankton.

Plankton's antennae quiver
with rage. "NO, NOT TANTRUMS!"
he shouts, his voice a
thunderclap in the small
room. "PLANKTON HAS ACQUIRED
RESTRICTED FLOW TO THE
FRONTAL TEMPORAL POLAR CORTEX!"

Hanna looks at him strangely. "W..."

"PLANKTON HAS CORPUS CALLOSUM
DEACTIVATION IN THE SENSORY 
INTEGRATION CENTERS!" Plankton
shouts, his antennae a blur of
movement as he tries to convey
his condition's complexity.
"Neurotransmitters firing 
asynchronously, synapses 
misfiring, it's not a tantrum! SO
HANNA NEEDS TO EITHER USE THE
CORRECT TERMINOLOGY OR NOT 
SPEAK AT THE SAME TIME!"

Karen's eyes are wide with
fear, yet understanding that 
Plankton is desperate.

"Plankton," she says, her 
voice calm. "It's okay, you
don't have to explain."

But Plankton's antennae 
wave frantically, his 
need for precision a 
storm in his mind. "HAS 
TO!" he yells, his voice 
desperate. "HANNA NOT
KNOW THE DIFFERENCE!"

Karen nods, her heart 
swelling with love and 
pride at his bravery. "Okay, 
love," she says, her voice 
soothing. "Let's explain."

She takes a deep 
breath, her eyes never 
leaving Plankton's as 
she addresses Hanna. "Plankton 
has acquired a form of 
autism, it's called 'autistic 
shutdowns'. It's not a tantrum, 
it's his brain's way of 
shutting down to protect 
itself from sensory 
overload. It's from a bad
accident.."

Hanna's eyes widen in 
shock, her hand 
flying to her mouth. 
"Oh my goodness," she 
whispers, her voice 
filled with regret. "I had 
no idea."

Karen nods, her eyes 
never leaving Plankton's. 
"It's been a tough 
adjustment for us 
all," she says, her voice 
gentle. "But we're managing."

new karen has a lesson Karen x Plankton 14

PLANKTON GOING TO THE DENTIST Ii/Ii

Plankton's eye dart around the room, trying 
to focus, confusion growing as the words 
won't come out right. 
"Th-th-the...th-the...th-th-th-th..." He stammers, his 
mouth working overtime to form the words.

Karen's laughter subsides into a comforting chuckle. 
"It's ok, Plankton." 

"Th-th-then...why...why do I tawking wike thith?" He 
asks, voice a wobbly mess, each word a struggle. 
"I...I'm a g-g-genius!" He stammers, trying to sound 
defiant despite his speech impediment. "I'n noth 
s-s-suppothed to tawl wike thish!"

Karen giggles. "It's just anesthesia, Plankton," 
she says soothingly. "It'll wear off soon."

Plankton's eye widen further. "B-but...I nee, needff 
to...to think...think...think!" He stammers.

"You'll be fine, Plankton," she says. 

The dentist pats Plankton's shoulder. "You're 
quite the charmer 
even with a mouthful of gauze," he quips, 
and the assistant snickers. 
Plankton's cheeks redden, indignation clear 
even through haze of anesthesia.

"I caan...caan...can't...I caan't th-th-think!" 
Plankton splutters. 

Karen tries to stifle her giggles, shaking with amusement. "It's 
anesthesia," she repeats, her voice a gentle wave washing 
over him. "You're ok, Plankton. You're ok."

He takes a deep breath, willing his tongue to cooperate. 
"G-got...it-t," he says.

"Alright, Mr. Plankton, let's get you sitting up," he says. 

He tries to stand, but his body feels like it's made of jelly, his 
legs wobbling beneath him. "Whoa!" He exclaims, speech 
slightly clearer but still slurred. "Thish isn't goog."

Karen and the dental staff help him to his feet, the nurse holding on
to him as he sways slightly. His eye still glazed over, but there's a hint 
of the sharpness that she knows so well starting to shine through. 
"Steady there," she says supporting him. "Let's get to the car."

Plankton nods. "Yeah...the...the...ca--" he says. He takes a shaky step.

"Just keep taking it slow," she advises, her voice a beacon in the fog 
of his mind. Karen's supporting him as they navigate the hallway.

"Where...wher's...wher's the...the...th-the...?" Plankton's words 
trip over each other, traitor to his usual eloquence.

"The car, sweetie," Karen says, her voice a lifeline in the fog 
of anesthesia. She leads him through the hallway
acting as a gentle guide. The receptionist waves with a smile.

"Moth...thath...moth," he stammers. 

She fastens his seatbelt for him. "D-don't laug-fh at me," he 
mumbles, eye half-lidded with the lingering effects of anesthesia.

"I'm not laughing at you," Karen says. "I'm just happy you're ok."

Plankton nods. He tries to say "thanks," but it comes out as "thathks."

"You're welcome, Plankton. You're going to be fine." She starts the engine.

"Bh-buth...whath abou- the...the...th-the...the...teethies?" Plankton slurs, words 
a tangled mess.

Karen laughs. "Don't worry about the teeth 
Plankton. They're out. You're all healed up."

Plankton nods, his eye glazed and his speech still slurred. "Thath's...tha's 
good," he manages to say. "But I...I can't t-talk wight," he mumbles, frustrated.

"Don't worry, honey," Karen says, patting his hand. "You're just a bit loopy 
from anesthesia. It'll wear off."

Plankton tries to argue, but all that comes out is a series of garbled 
sounds. "Th-the...th-th-th..." 

"Your mouth is just numb, Plankton," Karen says, driving. 
"The anesthesia makes it hard to talk."

But Plankton can't help it; he keeps trying, his slurred 
words a jumble of consonants. "Th-th-that's not ith’s," he 
protests, his voice bubbly. "I'm a g-g-gen-n-n...genius!"

Karen giggles, gripping the steering wheel tightly. "You're a genius 
all right," she teases.

Plankton's eye narrow in determination. "Th-that's not...noth fair!" He 
says, his tongue feeling like a thick sea slug.

Karen can't help but laugh harder. "It's ok, Plankton," she says. 

"But I...I nee-f to...to...to th-th-think! I can't...can't th-think thish!"

Karen's laughter bubbles up again 
and she squeezes his hand reassuringly. 
"You're ok, Plankton," she says, 
voice a warm current of comfort. 

"D-don't...d-don't leav-e me," he mumbles, his eye drooping.

Karen glances over. "I'm right here, Plankton," she says.

Plankton's head lolls to the side, and his snores become a soothing 
background to the hum of the boat's engine. His mouth hangs open, 
a stream of drool trailing down his chin, creating a small pool in the 
seat. Karen, noticing the gauze in his mouth has shifted, gently 
repositioned it, careful not to cause him any pain. He mumbles 
something incoherent, and she chuckles, shaking her head. "Rest 
my love," she murmurs.

The drool continues to escape Plankton's mouth, creating a wet spot 
on the boat's upholstery, his slumbering form a stark contrast to the sharp 
scheming creature she's used to. She reaches over to gently dab at 
the drool, her movements careful not to disturb his sleep. 

As the boat docks at the Chum Bucket, Karen wonders how she'll 
manage to get him inside without him babbling incoherently and 
scaring off any passersby. But Plankton, in his anesthesia-induced 
haze, seems oblivious to the world around him, his snores the only 
sound. Karen helps him out of the boat, and she half-drags 
half-carries him through the door. 

They enter their living quarters and she gently lays him on their bed 
which feels like a vast ocean compared to his usual cramped lab space. 
She carefully takes out the gauze, 
watching his eye flutter open. "Where...where am I?" He mumbles.

"You're home, Plankton," Karen says, her voice a soft wave of comfort. 
She wipes his chin clean with a warm, damp cloth. Plankton looks 
around, his eye finally focusing on the familiar sights of their home.

"Home?" He slurs, his tongue thick and clumsy in his mouth. "B-but...I..." 

"Just rest, Plankton," Karen says, pushing him gently back down. "You've 
had a big day."

Home never felt so welcoming, Plankton thinks, as he sinks into the embrace 
of the bed. Karen fluffs a pillow under his head, her movements tender. "Th-thank 
youw," he manages to say, his speech still thick.

"You're welcome," Karen replies, her voice a gentle caress. "Now, you just rest. 
I'll be here."

He closes his eye, letting the numbness of his mouth and the heaviness of 
his limbs take over. Karen sits beside him, moving in a soothing rhythm 
against his arm. 

"You're going to be fine," Karen whispers, stroking his cheek. "Just sleep it off 
and by tomorrow you'll be back to your usual scheming self."

Plankton tries to smile but his mouth refuses to cooperate. 
The corners of his mouth 
twitch upwards in a half-hearted attempt
and he mumbles "I wove youw thoo." 

The next day, Plankton wakes up. The 
numbness in his mouth has subsided 
leaving only a dull throb. He opens his 
eye to see Karen. "How do you feel?" She asks.

Plankton's eye blinked open, the room spinning around him. 
Karen came into focus.

"Mmph; wha's? Wh-when..."

"Your wisdom teeth," she says, her voice a soothing tide. "They're gone
Plankton. You don't have to worry about them anymore."

"Wis-wis-wis...?" He stammers, his tongue tripping over the word "wisdom."

"Yes, Plankton," Karen says with amusement. "You had your wisdom 
teeth removed yesterday."

Plankton's eye widen, and he tries to sit up. "Y-yesterday?" He slurs. 
"But I...I caan't...can't remember.."

Karen nods, her smile full of mirth. "You were pretty out of it," she says.

He tries to push himself up, but the pain in his mouth sends a shockwave through. 
"Mph-ow!" He flops back down, his hands flying to his cheeks. "What do you mean?"

Karen laughs. "You were pretty loopy," she says, holding him down gently. "The anesthesia 
had you talking like..." she pauses, searching for the right words. "Well, like you've never talked 
before."

"I hope I...I didn't say anything..." he starts, his voice trailing off.

"Oh, you said plenty," she teases. "But don't worry, it was just the anesthesia talking."

"Wh-wh-what did I say?"

Karen chuckles. "You were worried about your 'teethies'," she mimics 
his slurred speech from the day before. "And you kept insisting you needed 
to think, even when it was clear you couldn't even talk straight. But 
don't worry; you're just fine." 

new plankton going to the dentist karen plankton ii

📄×🍊🧃

new paper x oj inanimate insanity ii objectshows OBJECTSHOW couple pair duo 2

NEUROBEHAVIORAL PLANKTON viii

(Autistic author)


The room grew quiet as they
all digested the information.
Sponge Bob's gaze never left
Plankton's, his expression
filled with a fierce loyalty.
He knew his friend was
different, but that didn't
change the love he had for
the tiny creature.

Sensing the tension, Sponge
Bob took a deep breath and
smiled his wide, welcoming smile.
"You know what, Plankton?" he
said, his voice a gentle rumble.
"You're still my best buddy, no
matter what."

Plankton's antennae perked
up, his eye focusing on
Sponge Bob's earnest expression.
The sponge's words were a
comforting lullaby, a gentle
reminder of their unbreakable bond.
He felt the warmth of their
friendship wash over him, a
comforting blanket against the
coldness of Hanna's accusations.

Sponge Bob's hand found its
way to his shoulder, the
touch a familiar comfort that
his overstimulated senses craved.
Plankton leaned into the warmth,
his body responding to the
soothing pressure. "Best buddies,"
he echoed, his voice a soft
affirmation.

The room grew quiet as
Sponge Bob's hand remained
steady on his shoulder, his
presence a calming force in
the storm of his emotions. Plankton
closed his eye, his body
relaxing into the gentle embrace.

"We're gonna get through this,"
Sponge Bob said, his voice a
soothing lullaby. "We'll figure
it out, buddy. I'm here for
you."

Plankton's antennae twitched
slightly, the warmth of his friend's
words seeping into his soul.
Sponge Bob had always had
a way of making him feel safe,
but now, with this new
knowledge, their friendship
felt even more vital.

"Thank you," Plankton murmured,
his voice a soft echo of
gratitude. Sponge Bob's
thumb rubbed circles on his
back.

The two friends sat in
silence, the warmth of their
companionship a stark contrast
to the chill of Hanna's words.
Plankton felt the tension in
his body slowly melt away,
his breaths evening out. The
steady beat of Sponge Bob's
heart was a comforting lullaby
that helped him find peace.

Sponge Bob's thumb continued
its circular dance on his back, a
wordless communication of
his love and support. Plankton
sighed, his body growing
heavier with each comforting
pressure point. "Thank you," he
murmured, his voice a gentle
whisper.

Sponge Bob's eyes searched his
face, a flicker of understanding
dawning. "It's okay, Plankton,"
he said. "We'll get through this
together." His hand didn't
move, his touch a silent
promise of his unwavering
support.

Plankton's antennae twitched
slightly, the comfort of his
friend's presence a warmth
against the coldness of his fear.
He knew Sponge Bob would
always be there for him, even
if he didn't fully understand
his condition. The sponge's
love was a constant, a beacon
of light in his otherwise
confusing world.

Sponge Bob's eyes never left
his friend's, his smile a gentle
reminder of the joy they
shared. "You know, Plankton,"
he began, his voice a soft
caress. "You're still
the same little guy I've
always known."

Plankton's antennae twitched, his
body leaning into the warmth of
Sponge Bob's embrace.

The steady beat of the sponge's
heart was a comforting metronome
that helped him find his rhythm
again. He felt the tension in
his body slowly melt away, each
breath growing deeper and more
even. The room, once a battlefield
of accusations and misunderstandings,
was now a haven of quiet comfort.

The rustling of pages grew
softer, the candle's glow dimming
as the minutes ticked by. Karen
and Hanna watched from afar,
heavy with regret
and hope. They saw the change in
Plankton, the way he leaned into
Sponge Bob's touch, the way his
body slowly relaxed.

Sponge Bob, ever the
comforting presence, began to
hum a gentle tune, a melody
that Plankton had heard a
thousand times. The familiar
notes were a lullaby that
soothed his frazzled nerves,
his antennae dropping to rest
against the sponge's shoulder.
The tune was a bridge to
his past, a time before the
accident, before the world had
shifted on its axis.

Plankton's breaths grew deeper,
his body swaying slightly with
the rhythm. His eye closed.
Sponge Bob's humming grew softer,
his hand never leaving Plankton's
back. The warmth of his
companion's embrace was a
soothing balm.

The room, once a prison
of accusations, was now a sanctuary
of friendship. The candle's
flame danced, casting shadows
that played across the walls,
their flickering a gentle reminder
of the warmth in their hearts.

Sponge Bob's hum grew softer,
his melody a gentle whisper that
lulled Plankton into a peaceful
reverie. His body molded
into the sponge's embrace,
his antennae drooping with
the weight of his eyelid. The
world outside faded away,
replaced by the safety of Sponge
Bob's arms.

Karen watched from the
distance, shimmering with
unshed tears. She knew the
importance of this moment, the
power of a friend who
understood without words. Her heart
swelled with gratitude for
Sponge Bob's unwavering support.

Hanna, too, felt the
weight of her own words, the
realization of her ignorance
heavy on her shoulders. She
longed to reach out, to be
part of this healing embrace, but
felt the boundary that she had
unwittingly created. Her screen
followed the tender scene, her
thoughts racing with a
desire to apologize, to explain.

But she knew that now was not
the time for words. Instead, she
sat quietly, watching the
dance of friendship unfold. The
steady beat of Sponge Bob's
heart, the gentle rustle of his
body against Plankton's, the
soothing hum that filled the
air—it was a symphony of care.

Hanna's gaze drifted to the
candle, its flame a flickering
reminder of the warmth that
was slowly seeping into the
room. She watched as Plankton's
body grew heavier, his breaths
deepening. The anger and fear
that had once dominated the
space were now replaced with a
comforting quietude.

Karen's hand found Hanna's,
squeezing gently. "He's ok,"
she whispered. "We're going
to be ok." Her voice was a
calm sea, offering a gentle
buoyancy to the storm of
emotions that had ravaged
them all.

Hanna's screen searched hers,
uncertainty warring with hope.
"I'm sorry," she murmured,
her voice a soft apology. "I
just didn't know."

Karen nodded, her gaze
compassionate. "It's a journey,"
she said. "We're all just
trying to understand."

The humming grew softer, until
it was only a faint echo in
the room. Plankton's antennae
twitched with the last
remnants of his anxiety,
before they too stilled. His
body grew heavy, his breaths
deep and even. The gentle
sway of Sponge Bob's embrace
was a lullaby that rocked him
into a peaceful slumber.

Sponge Bob felt the
change in Plankton's tension,
his friend's body becoming
a soft weight against his. He
smiled, his heart swelling
with love and relief. Carefully,
he adjusted his hold, cradling
the tiny creature against his
chest. His thumb continued its
comforting strokes, his eyes
never leaving the closed eye.

Karen stepped forward, her
movements graceful and silent.
Her hand rested on Sponge
Bob's arm, her screen a gentle
thank you. Hanna quietly left.

The room was now bathed in
the soft glow of the candle,
its flicker the only sound.
Plankton's antennae twitched
slightly in his sleep, his
breaths deep and even. Sponge
Bob held him tight, his
heartbeat a gentle rhythm that
soothed the tiny creature's
slumber.

Karen watched the two,
aching with love and
gratitude. She knew that
Sponge Bob's simple act of
comfort was a powerful
statement of friendship and
support. It was moments like
this that reminded her of the
strength in their bond.

The candle's flame danced
gently, casting shadows that
played across Plankton's sleeping
face. His antennae, once a
whirlwind of anxiety, were now
still, resting against Sponge
Bob's chest. His breaths were
even and deep, a testament
to the peace he had found
in his friend's embrace.

Sponge Bob looked down at
his sleeping companion, his
face a picture of quiet contentment.
He knew that Plankton was
safe here, that his slumber was
a reprieve from the storm of
emotions that had ravaged
his day. The room was a
sanctuary of calm, the candle's
warmth a gentle guardian.

The sponge's heart swelled with
love as he watched his friend's
tiny chest rise and fall, each
breath a whispered promise
of support. He knew that
Plankton's world was now
different, that the ASD had
brought with it challenges that
neither of them could have
foreseen. But in this moment,
their bond was stronger than
ever, a beacon of understanding
in a sea of uncertainty.

Karen's eyes searched
Sponge Bob's, her own heart
heavy with the weight of what
Plankton had endured. "Thank
you," she murmured, her voice a
soft wave of appreciation.
"For being there for him."

Sponge Bob's gaze never left
Plankton's sleeping form, his
thumb still tracing comforting
patterns. "Always," he said, his
voice a gentle promise. "No
matter what."

new neurobehavioral plankton plankbobs viii

TRUTH AND NAIL ii

The nurse returned.
"How's he doing?" she
asked, checking the monitors.
"Just woke up briefly,"
Karen said, her voice a whisper.
"He's still pretty out of it."

The nurse nodded, jotting
notes on a clipboard. "That's
normal," she said. "The
anesthesia takes some time
to wear off completely. You
can take him home now."

"But he's still..."

The nurse nodded,
her voice firm but gentle.
"It's normal. He'll
be groggy for a bit,
but he's stable enough."

With her help, Karen
managed to rouse Plankton
to a semi-conscious state.
He blinked at her, his eye
unfocused and glazed over.
"Tek me…” Karen nodded,
smiling at his attempt
to form coherent words.
"Yes, sweetie. We're gonna go.."

He sat up with a start,
his body moving before
his mind caught up, the
world tilting and spinning
around him. Karen's hand
was quick to steady him,
her voice a gentle
reminder of where he was.
"Easy," she said, her voice
like a soft pillow for
his pounding head. "You're
okay."

Plankton blinked, his eye
trying to focus on her screen.
"Wha...wha...wha...?"
he stuttered, the words
fighting to escape his
numb mouth.

Karen's smile grew wider,
seeing the confusion in his
glassy gaze. "It's okay, honey,"
she cooed, her voice a balm
to his bewilderment. "You're
just coming out of the
anesthesia."

He then notices the
nurse standing by.

"Nurse?" he croaks,
his voice hoarse and
his tongue thick in
his mouth. "Nurse?"
he tries again, his voice
a bit stronger.

The nurse looks over,
seeing his struggle to
make sense of his
surroundings. She smiles,
"You're okay, Mr. Plankton.
You had a little surgery."
Her words are clear,
but they hit him like
a foggy echo.

"Sur...surg...teef?" he
slurs, his mouth feeling
like it's filled with
cotton balls.

"Yes, you had your
wisdom teeth removed,"
Karen says, her voice a
soothing melody in the
white noise of the
recovery room.

“Who’s there?” Plankton's 
voice was a faint rasp. The 
nurse and Karen exchanged 
a knowing glance. He was 
coming around more, but still 
not fully with it.

“It’s me, Plankton,” Karen 
whispered, leaning closer. Her 
screen swam into view, a beacon 
of familiarity in the sea of 
white. He squinted, trying to
focus. “Karen?” he mumbled, his 
throat dry and raw.

“Yes, it’s me,” she 
repeated, her voice a gentle 
lullaby. “You’re okay, you 
just had your wisdom teeth out.
You’re still a little sleepy 
from the surgery.”

Plankton's hand reached 
up to his face, feeling the 
swollen jaw and the 
cottony numbness. “Teef?” he 
managed to murmur, his voice 
a gravelly shadow of its usual 
self. The word felt strange
and foreign in his mouth.

“Wisdom teeth, darling,” Karen 
reminded him, her tone 
soothing as a warm blanket. 
“They took them out to stop
your pain.”

“Buh, buth Karen 
haz aww the teefs?”
Plankton's slurred words
hang in the air, a question
mark painted on his
confused expression.
Karen laughs lightly with
amusement. "No, sweetie.
Let’s get you standing up."

With the nurse’s help,
Karen eases Plankton to
his feet. The world
swims around him, a blur
of white walls and the
steady beeping of machines.
He tries to stand on legs
that feel like jelly.

"Easy, darling," Karen
says, her arm around him,
supporting his weight.
"Take it slow."

The nurse nods, guiding
his elbow. "Just a few
steps to the chair."

Plankton's legs wobble
like a newborn deer's,
his feet shuffling
along the cold floor.
"Tek me ho...ho...home?"
he slurs, the words
like molasses escaping
his mouth.

"Soon, baby," Karen
soothes, her arm tightening
around him. She can feel
his confusion like a
heavy fog in the air,
but she's determined
to be his compass
in this disoriented state.

Plankton's eye darts
around the room,
trying to make sense of
the shapes and sounds.
"Wha...wha...where...?"
he stammers, his mouth
still not fully cooperating.
The nurse smiles kindly,
"You're in the recovery
area. You had a little
procedure to take out
some teeth, remember?"

Karen helps him into
a chair, his body moving
slowly as if through
molasses. His gaze
flits to her, his mind
still groggy. "Tee...th?"
he mumbles, his tongue
sluggish in his mouth.

Karen nods, her smile
warm and comforting.
"Wisdom teeth, darling.
They're gone."

“Wav...wav...Karen?” 
Plankton’s voice
was a faint echo.
“How will I eath?”
The words were jumbled,
his speech a slur.

“Soft foods for now, love.
We’ll manage, don’t worry,”
she said, her voice
like a lullaby.

Plankton's head
nodded slightly,
his eyelid heavy.
“Than...thank...you...”
he slurred, his speech
still a puzzle of sounds
as they walk down the
corridor.
 

new truth and nail sleepicore ii

ᔆʰᵉᵈᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᴸⁱᵍʰᵗ
⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾
ᵁˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ʳᵒᵖᵉ, ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ’ˢ ᵒⁿ ᵃ
ˡᵃᵈᵈᵉʳ ᵖᵘᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ᵃ ᵖᵒⁱⁿᵗᵉᵈ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗ
ᶠⁱˣᵗᵘʳᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᴷʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᴷʳᵃᵇ ᵃˢ
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵇʸ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ᵃˡᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ
ᶜʰᵃⁿᵈᵉˡⁱᵉʳ’ˢ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉᵃᵛʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵉˡˡ‧
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ⁱᵗ
ᵈʳᵒᵖ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ 
ⁿᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵗ ᵃˡˡ, ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ
ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵏⁿᵒᶜᵏⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᵘⁿᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢ‧
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ, ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ ʰⁱᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ
ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵒⁿᶜᵉ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡˡ‧
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵃⁿ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ ⁿᵒʷ ᵃˢ
ʰᵉ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ⁿᵒ ᵐᵒᵛᵉᵐᵉⁿᵗ ᵃᵗ ᵃˡˡ‧
“ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜʳⁱᵉˢ
ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶜˡᵉᵃʳᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘʳʳᵒᵘⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍˢ
ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ʳᵉᵐᵒᵛᵉᵈ ᵈᵉᵇʳⁱˢ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵒⁿ
ᵗᵒᵖ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ’ˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ’ˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧
ᴱᵛᵉⁿᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ
ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ʷᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ‧ “ᴼʰ
ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ‧‧” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ ᵗᵒ
ʰⁱᵐ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʳᵒᵘˢᵉ‧
ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ ʰᵘʳᵗⁱⁿᵍ, ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ
ʰⁱˢ ˢᵘʳʳᵒᵘⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍˢ ⁿᵒʷ‧ “ᴴᵘʰ…”
“ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵉᵗ’ˢ ᵍᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ
ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ⁿᵒʷ‧” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ
ˢᵃʸˢ, ᵗᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ‧ ‘ᵂʰᵃᵗ ⁱˢ
ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ? ᵂᵃⁱᵗ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ⁿᵉʷ
ˡⁱᵍʰᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᶠⁱˣᵗᵘʳᵉ‧ ᴵ ˢᵃʷ ⁱᵗ, ᵃⁿᵈ
ⁿᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᵂʰᵃᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ?’ ᴴᵉ
ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ, ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ‧ “ᵁᵍʰ…”
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ’ˢ ˢᵘᵖᵖᵒʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ
ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ “ᔆᵒ ᴵ
ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ⁱⁿᶠᵒʳᵐˢ
ᵐᵉ ᵃ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵒⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵐᵃˢʰ
ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿˢᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʰᵉᵃᵈ‧ ᴳᵒᵗ ⁱᵗ ᵃˡˡ ᵒᵘᵗ
ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵛᵉʳ‧”
“ᴱˣᵖˡᵃⁱⁿˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵃⁿᵈᵃᵍᵉˢ‧” ᔆᵃʸˢ
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ, ⁿᵒʷ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵉᵈ‧
ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰᵉ’ˢ ᶠᵉᵉˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵛᵉʳ
ˡᵒᵃᵈᵉᵈ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵒʷ‧ “ᴵ ᵍᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘ
ˢᵒᵐᵉ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ᵈʳⁱⁿᵏ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵒᵐᵉ
ᵇᵒᵒᵏˢ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘʳˢ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ᵒᵘᵍʰᵗᵃ
ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵉᵃˢʸ‧ ᴸᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵇᵒᵈʸ ᵍᵉᵗ
ᵉᵃˢᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ⁿᵉᶜᵉˢˢᵃʳʸ‧”
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵖᵘᵗ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵒⁿ
ᵖⁱˡˡᵒʷ ⁿᵒʷ‧ “ᶠᵒʳ ᵃᵗ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ
ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ…”
“ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᴵ’ᵐ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ˢᵒᵐᵉ
ᵈᵃʸˢ ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ…” “ʸᵉˢ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʳᵉ
ᵃˢˢᵘʳⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ
ˢᵃʸˢ, ᵇᵃᶜᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ‧
ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ ᶜʳᵃᶜᵏᵉᵈ
ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ
ʷⁱˡˡ ᵇᵉⁿᵉᶠⁱᵗ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ‧
ᴵᵗ’ˢ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʰᵉ ⁿᵉᵉᵈᵉᵈ ⁿᵒʷ ᵃⁿᵈ
ˢʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵈ ᵖʳᵒᵛⁱᵈᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵛᵃʳⁱᵒᵘˢ
ʷᵃⁿᵗˢ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵇʸ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵉᵈ‧
ᔆʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵈ ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈᵉ ᵗᵒ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ ˢᵒᵐᵉ
ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ‧ ᴺᵒʷ ᵖᵉᵉᵏⁱⁿᵍ
ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ, ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ, ⁿᵒʷ ⁿᵃᵖᵖⁱⁿᵍ‧
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ʷᵒʳᵏ‧
“ᴴᵉ’ˢ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ⁿᵒʷ‧” “ᴵ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵇʸ ᵗᵒ
ˢᵉᵉ ⁱᶠ ᴵ’ᵈ ʰᵉˡᵖ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒʳ ᵐᵒʳᵃˡ ˢᵘᵖᵖᵒʳᵗ‧”
ᴺᵒᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵈⁱˢʳᵘᵖᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ’ˢ ⁿᵃᵖ
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˡᵉᶠᵗ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ʷᵒᵏᵉ
ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵃᵖˢ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈᵉʳ‧
ᴴᵉ ᵗʷⁱᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵈⁱˢᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗ ᵃᵗ
ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵒᵘᶜʰ, ᵒᵖᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ‧
“ᔆᵒʳʳʸ, ˢʷᵉᵉᵗˢ; ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ
ʳᵉᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵃⁿᵈᵃᵍᵉ ⁿᵒʷ‧”
ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵈᵒⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒ, ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶜʳᵒᵘᶜʰᵉᵈ ᵈᵒʷⁿ 
ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ‧ “ᴵ’ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧‧” “ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ, ʸᵒᵘ’ᵛᵉ ⁿᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵃᵖᵒˡᵒᵍⁱˢᵉ
ᶠᵒʳ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁱᵗ’ˢ ᶠⁱⁿᵉ‧” ᴴᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵃⁿᵈ
ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉˡᵈ ⁱᵗ‧ “ᴼʰ, ˢʷᵉᵉᵗˢ‧‧” “ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ
ʸᵒᵘ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧ ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ˢᵃʸ ⁱᵗ
ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵈᵒ‧‧” “ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ‧
ᴵ’ᵐ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵍᵒ ᵗᵒ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧” “ᴳᵒᵒᵈ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧”
ᔆʰᵉ ᵒⁿˡʸ ˡᵉᵗ ᵍᵒ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ʷʰᵉⁿᶜᵉ
ʰᵉ ˢⁿᵒʳᵉᵈ‧ “ᴳᵒᵒᵈ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧”
ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷʰⁱˢᵖᵉʳˢ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳᵐ‧
ᔆʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ⁿᵒʷ’ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ
ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵏⁱˢˢᵉˢ, ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱˢ
ᵇᵒᵈʸ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᑫᵘⁱᵗᵉ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵒᶠ
ˢᵗⁱᵐᵘˡᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃʸ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ
ˢⁱᵍʰˢ, ˡᵉᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵈᵒᵒʳ ᶜʳᵃᶜᵏᵉᵈ‧
ᴵⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ, ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁿᵒʷ
ʳᵉᶠʳᵉˢʰᵉᵈ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʰᵉʳ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵗᵒ‧
ᔆʰᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ’ˢ ᵈᵒᵒʳ ᵃⁿᵈ
ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ˢⁿᵒʳⁱⁿᵍ, ˢᵒ ˢʰᵉ ˡᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵇᵉ‧
ᴬˢ ʰᵉ ʷᵒᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ, ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ
ᵗᵒ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵗᵃᵇˡᵉ‧
ᴴᵉ ᵍʳᵃᵇˢ ᵃ ᵇᵒᵒᵏ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵃᵈ‧ “ᴼʰ ʰᵉʸ
ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ…” ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ ᵃˢ
ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏˢ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱᵐ‧ “ᴴᵉˡˡᵒ
ˢʷᵉᵉᵗˢ‧ ᴸᵉᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱᶠ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ
ʰᵉˡᵖ ʸᵒᵘ ᵒʳ ᵍᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ…” “ᴵ’ˡˡ ˡᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ
ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧” “ᴼʰ ˡᵃˢᵗ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ
ᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵇʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ‧”
“ᴴᵉ ᵈⁱᵈ?” “ᴵ ˡᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ
ʸᵒᵘ’ʳᵉ ʳᵉˢᵗⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴵᶠ ʸᵒᵘ’ᵈ ˡⁱᵏᵉ, ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ
ᶜᵃˡˡ ʰⁱᵐ‧‧” “ᴵ’ᵐ ᶠⁱⁿᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵒʷ‧”
ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁿᵒᵈᵈᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵇᵃᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ
ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ
ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵃᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵒᵒᵏ ⁿᵒʷ‧
ᴱᵛᵉⁿᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ᶜʰᵃⁿᵍᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ
ᵇᵃⁿᵈᵃᵍᵉˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵉᵗ ʰᵉʳ ˢᵗᵃʸ‧
“ᶜᵃⁿ ᴵ ˢⁱᵗ?” ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒᵈᵈᵉᵈ
ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᵖᵘᵗ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ‧ 
ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶠˡᵘᶠᶠᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖⁱˡˡᵒʷˢ‧
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᶜᵒᵒᵗᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉʳ ᵗᵒ
ʰᵉʳ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉᵈ, ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ
ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵒᵒᵈ ʰᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉ ᵃᵛᵉʳˢᵉ
ᵗᵒ ᵗᵒᵘᶜʰ‧ ᴬᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ᵗʰᵉʸ’ᵈ ʰᵘᵍ
ᵇᵘᵗ ˢʰᵉ ʳᵉˢᵖᵉᶜᵗᵉᵈ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ
ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗᵒ ˡᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵇᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒⁿᵉ
ᵗᵒ ᵉⁿᵍᵃᵍᵉ ᵃⁿʸ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵃᶜᵗ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ‧
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵒᵒᵏ
ˢᵒ ˢʰᵉ’ᵈ ʳᵉᵃᵈ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴮʸ ᵗʰᵉ
ᵉⁿᵈ ᵒᶠ, ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ʰᵉᵃᵛʸ‧
ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ʰⁱᵐ, ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ’ˢ 
ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ ᴱᵛᵉⁿᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ˢʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵈ
ᵗᵒ ʸᵉᵗ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ’ᵗ ᵐⁱⁿᵈ‧ ᴰᵉˢᵖⁱᵗᵉ ʰᵉᵃᵈ
ᵃᶜʰᵉˢ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ, ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ‧
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟳𝟮𝟯

new Karen/Sheldon J. Plankton Karen (SpongeBob) Karen & SpongeBob SquarePants optimistic ending Sleep & Naps plaren shedding light

KAREN HAS A LESSON pt. 15
(Autistic author)

Hanna's screen 
filled with a mix of 
shock and empathy. 
"I had no idea," she 
says, her voice a 
whisper. "How can I 
help?"

Plankton's antennae 
twitch, his voice 
laced with sarcasm. 
"Oh, it's simple," he says, 
his tone biting. "Just don't 
make jokes about 
Karen or brain damage!"

Hanna's screen burn 
with embarrassment, her 
eyes wide with shock. 
"I'm so sorry, I didn't 
know," she whispers, her 
hands trembling.

Plankton's eye is still
glaring. "It's not 
to hard to understand," 
he says, his voice a knife. 
"If Hanna just took the 
time to learn."

Hanna nods, her 
screen a mask of regret. 
"What do 
you need?"

Plankton's antennae 
slow, his eye focusing 
on Karen's worried screen. 
He takes a deep breath, 
his words coming out 
slowly, as if each one 
was a step through a 
difficult maze. "Quiet," 
he whispers. "Space."

Hanna nods, her own 
eyes filling with tears. 
"I'll give you space," 
she says, her voice 
quivering with apology.

Karen's eyes never 
leave Plankton's as Hanna
quietly leaves the room. 
The silence is a balm 
to Plankton's overstimulated 
mind, and he sighs 
in relief, his antennae 
stilling. "Thanks, Karen,"
he whispers, his voice 
a soft echo of his earlier 
rage.

"It's okay," Karen says, 
her voice a gentle 
lullaby. She strokes his 
back, her touch a 
comforting rhythm in 
his chaotic world. "We'll 
get through this."

Plankton's antennae 
twitch in response, 
his body slowly 
unwinding from the 
coil of his anger. "But 
Hanna..."

Karen nods, her screen 
filled with empathy. 
"I know, love," she 
whispers. "But she 
just doesn't know 
what it's like."

Plankton's antennae 
wave slowly, his 
understanding of 
Hanna's ignorance 
gradually replacing 
his anger.

"It's okay, Plankton,"
Karen says, her voice 
a soft breeze in the 
storm of his emotions. 
"We'll explain to her.
Everyone deserves a chance 
to learn."

Plankton nods slowly, 
his antennae still, his 
body a tightly coiled 
spring. "Karen is right,"
he murmurs, his voice 
a whisper. "But Plankton 
scared she won't understand."

Karen's hand 
continues to stroke his 
back, her screen filled 
with love. "We'll 
make sure she does," 
she says, her voice a 
promise.

Plankton's body 
begins to relax, his 
antennas slowing their 
frantic dance. He knows 
Karen will protect him, 
explain him.

His eye flutters closed, 
his breathing shallow, as 
Karen's gentle strokes 
calm the tempest in 
his mind. The room 
around them seems to 
hold its breath, the 
silence a stark contrast 
to the storm of moments 
before. Slowly, his antennae 
uncoil, his body 
relaxing into her embrace.

The world around him 
becomes a blur of colors, 
his senses dimming as 
his brain seeks the 
solace of sleep.

Karen watches him 
with a mix of love and 
worry, her hand gently 
stroking his antennae. 
She knows his mind is a 
whirlwind, even in rest.

His breathing slows, 
his body going limp in 
her embrace. The room 
around them seems to 
quiet, the chaos of the 
day fading into the 
background as sleep 
claims him.

Karen knows he's fallen
asleep by the steady rise
and fall of his chest,
his antennae no longer 
twitching. She carefully 
moves him to their bed, 
his body a delicate
weight in her arms.

The room is a sanctuary 
of softness, the light 
filtering through 
the curtains like a gentle
caress. She pulls the blankets 
up to his chin, tucking 
them in just right, her 
movements precise and 
methodical.

His antennae twitch 
slightly in his sleep, 
his body a silent testament 
to the tumult of 
his day. She watches 
his chest rise and fall, 
his breaths even and deep. 
The tension in the 
air dissipates as his 
body relaxes further.

Hanna's waiting out by the
bedroom door, concerned
as Karen opens the door.

"Is he okay?" Hanna whispers.
Her eyes are red, and her 
screen wet with tears.
"I didn't know, Karen. I'm so 
sorry."

Karen nods, her 
own eyes filled with 
moisture. "He's asleep now,"
she says, her voice 
barely audible. "It's the 
best thing for him."

Hanna's gaze follows 
Karen's to the bed, 
where Plankton lies 
still as a statue, his antennae 
at rest against the 
pillow.

"It's okay," Karen says, 
her voice a gentle 
whisper. "We all make
mistakes."

Hanna nods, her 
screen never leaving 
Plankton's sleeping form. 
"But I hurt him,"
she says, her voice 
haunted.

Karen sighs, her 
hand on Hanna's shoulder. 
"You didn't mean to,"
she says, her voice 
filled with compassion. 
"And now you know."

Hanna nods, her 
screen still on Plankton. 
"But what can I do 
now?" she asks, 
desperation in her 
voice.

Karen looks at her 
friend, her gaze 
thoughtful. "Just be 
patient with him," she 
whispers. "Learn about 
his condition. And 
apologize when he wakes 
up."

Hanna nods, her 
expression solemn. "I 
will," she says.

Karen smiles, a 
thankful light in her 
screen. "Good," she 
whispers. "Now, let's 
let him rest."

They both slip out 
of the room, leaving 
the door ajar to 
allow the soft light 
from the hallway to 
spill into the bedroom. 
Hanna looks down 
at the floor. "I'm 
so sorry, Karen," she 
says, her voice low.

"It's okay, Hanna,"
Karen responds, her 
tone a gentle reprimand. 
"We're all learning 
how to navigate 
this new reality."

Eventually, Plankton comes
out after a little while, now
awake. Karen and Hanna
are both sitting together.

"I'm sorry," Hanna whispers,
her screen downcast.

Plankton's antennae 
twitch with uncertainty. 
He doesn't remember
falling asleep, or Hanna 
leaving. He just knows 
his mind was a tornado 
of anger and pain.

Karen's voice is 
a gentle guide, leading 
him back to the 
present. "You had a 
bad shutdown," she says, 
her screen filled with 
love and concern. "It's 
okay to feel upset."

Plankton nods, his 
antennas drooping. 
He looks at Hanna, 
his eye filled with 
uncertainty. "It's not 
easy," he whispers, 
his voice a soft 
admission.

Hanna looks up, her 
eyes meeting his. "I know,"
she says, her voice 
sincere. "But I'm here 
for you both."

Plankton's antennae 
wave slightly, a 
sign of his internal 
debate. "Hanna hurt 
Plankton," he says, 
his voice a monotone.

Hanna nods, her screen 
filled with regret. 
"I know," she whispers. 
"And I'm sorry. I didn't 
mean to."

Plankton's antennae 
lift slightly, his 
body uncoiling from 
his protective stance. 
He takes a step 
towards her, his 
movement tentative. 
"Hanna can learn,"
he murmurs, his voice 
still tight with 
emotion.

Hanna's eyes 
brighten with hope. 
"I want to learn,"
she says, her voice 
eager. "I want to be 
a good friend to 
both of you."

Karen smiles, 
her screen shining with 
gratitude. "That's 
all we can ask for,"
she says, her voice 
a gentle caress.

new karen has a lesson Karen x Plankton 15

AUTISM IN THE PLANKTON FAMILY ii


(Autistic author)



Karen's friend Hanna came
over unexpectedly. Hanna never met
Plankton personally, nor did she hear
of his diagnosis.

"Oh, Plankton, it's good to finally
meet you!" Hanna exclaimed, voice
bubbly. Plankton looked up from his
book, his gaze unwavering. He didn't
move or speak. Yet Hanna was
oblivious.

Karen stepped in, her smile forced.
"Honey, this is Hanna," she said,
hoping for a response.

Plankton studied Hanna with a
curiosity that was both intense and
slightly unnerving. He tilted his head,
his antennae vibrating slightly. "Hello,"
he said, his voice monotone.

"I'll go get some refreshments," says
Karen.

Hanna took a seat right up by
Plankton, unaware of his 
aversion to touch.

"So, Karen tells me you're quite the
inventor," Hanna said with a
chuckle, reaching out to pat him
on the back. Plankton flinched at the
unexpected contact, antennae
twitching.
"What are you working on?" she asked,
picking up a gadget.

Plankton's antennae snapped to attention,
eye widening in horror. "That's not
for touching!" he snapped, his voice
sharp and urgent.

"Oh, sorry," she stuttered,
quickly returning it to the bench. "I didn't
know."

Plankton's gaze didn't leave.
He took a deep breath.
But she didn't
give him space, didn't understand him.
Plankton felt tense,
antennae quivering.
"Could I see what you're reading?"
Hanna leaned closer, trying to peer
at the book. Plankton
flinched, his grip tightening around the
pages. His eye 
flitted to the book and back to her, 
his antennae pulsing rapidly.
But Hanna was
unaware of the discomfort she was
causing.

"It's just a book," she said with a
wave of her hand. "Don't be so
secretive." She leaned in even closer,
trying to make eye contact.

The room grew hotter, his antennae
twitching uncontrollably. He felt his
heart racing in his chest, the thump-
thump echoing in his ears. He wanted to
yell at her to go away, but he knew
that would only make things worse.

"Could you not talk so much?" 
Plankton's voice was tight, his
desire for quiet clear. But Hanna, in 
her ignorance, just laughed, 
thinking it was a quirky part of
his personality.

"I've got so much to tell you about!"
she babbled, her hands animated as
she talked.

Plankton's seeking an escape from the
onslaught of sensory input. 
Hanna, oblivious to his distress,
rattled on. Each word she spoke
was a new pinprick on his already
frayed nerves. He couldn't focus on the
conversation.

"So, what do you think?" Hanna
asked, her eyes bright with
expectation. Plankton blinked,
pulled from his thoughts.

"Think about what?" He replied,
his voice flat.

Hanna's smile wavered. "I said,
what do you think about the new
fashion trend in Bikini Bottom?"

Plankton blinked again, trying to
process her words. His mind was a
whirlwind of thoughts, and the effort
it took to engage in small talk was
exhausting. He shrugs.
It was the only response he could
muster. His brain felt like it was
short-circuiting, trying to keep up.

Hanna was unfazed.
"It's all the rage!" she exclaimed,
grabbing his shoulder.

Plankton's antennae shot up, his
body stiffening. The touch was like a
shock to his system, and he had to
fight the urge to pull away.
"Mm," he murmured, not really
listening. The effort to maintain
his composure was Herculean.

Hanna didn't seem to notice, her
laughter bubbling over,
taking Plankton's lack of engagement
as shyness. "You know, Patrick's
even started a jellyfishing club!"

Plankton nodded again, his eye
flicking towards the doorway,
willing Karen to return.
Plankton felt his head
throbbing. He tried to focus
on her words, to find some semblance
of meaning in the chaos. 
Plankton realized she was
waiting for him to speak, but he can't.
He wanted to scream, to tell her to
just leave him alone.

"You know, Plankton," Hanna said, her
voice softer now, "Karen tells me
you're quite the genius." She leaned
forward. Plankton's antennae
twitching erratically. 
She reached out to pat
his arm again, but that 
was the straw that broke
the camel's back.

Plankton's eye widened with panic. He
twitched abruptly, knocking over
his chair. 

"I'm sorry. Did I do
something wrong?"

Plankton didn't answer. He couldn't.
The words were trapped in his
throat, a tangled mess of frustration
and anxiety. He took a step back,
his chest heaving with shallow
breaths. The room spun around him,
his senses on overload.

Hanna noticed his distress. "Plankton?" she
whispered, her hand outstretched.

But Plankton was beyond words.
He couldn't form a coherent
response, couldn't explain.

Karen rushed into the room, alerted
by the sound of the chair falling.
Her screen searched her husband's face,
seeing the distress he couldn't voice.

"What happened?" 

Hanna stuttered, her hands up in
defense. "I don't know! I was just
talking to him, and he...he..."

But Karen had already
assessed the situation. She saw the
fear in Hanna and the panic
in Plankton. She knew he was
overwhelmed. She stepped in
quickly, her voice a soothing balm.
"It's ok Plankton," she said, her
tone calm and reassuring. "You're safe.
It's just Hanna. She's a friend."

Plankton's antennae stopped quivering,
his breaths coming in slightly more
even. But he didn't look at Karen,
his gaze still locked on the wallpaper.
Hanna watched, her expression
mixture of concern and confusion.

But Plankton couldn't find words.
His mind was a maelstrom of thoughts
and sensory input. He felt his body
shaking, breaths coming in
quick gasps.

Hanna took a tentative step. "What's
going on?" she asked, her voice
barely a whisper.

Plankton's body remained
rigid, his eye still fixed on the wall.

Hanna tried to reach out to him
like Karen did. "NO!" he yelled,
his voice echoing through the
lab, the first time he'd raised it
since his diagnosis.

Hanna took a step back, her face
falling. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

But Plankton couldn't hear her
apology, couldn't process anything
anymore, couldn't move nor speak.

The world was too much, too loud,
too bright, too everything. He retreated
into himself.

Karen watched as Hanna took in
the scene before her, her own hand
freezing in mid-air. The room was
silent except for Plankton's ragged
breaths, his tiny body trembling.

"I didn't mean to upset him," Hanna
whispered, her voice trembling. "I just
wanted to be friendly."

Karen's gaze never left
Plankton. She knew he couldn't help it.
The diagnosis was new, and they were
both learning to navigate this
uncharted territory. Karen didn't want
to go into details about Plankton's
autism with Hanna, not yet.

Hanna looked from Plankton to Karen.
"What's wrong with you?" she asked him,
shaking.

Plankton didn't respond, his gaze
still locked on the wallpaper. His
body was a statue, but inside, he was
a tempest of overstimulation and fear.
Hanna's words, her touch, her very
presence was too much for him to handle.

Karen stepped closer, placing her hand
on Hanna's arm. "He's just overwhelmed."

Hanna looked at her, the
confusion clear in her screen.

"Can you give us a moment? He
needs space."

Hanna nods.

Approaching Plankton, Karen knelt before
his frozen form. "It's ok," she
whispered, her voice a gentle lullaby.
"You're safe here." She took his
hands, guiding them to her shoulders,
his grip tightening reflexively.

Hanna hovered, unsure of what to do,
but Karen's gaze was firm. "I'll take
care of him," she assured.
Karen sat with him, her
heart pounding in her chest. She knew
what he needed.

"You're ok," Karen whispered,
repeating it like a mantra. Plankton's
body was rigid, but his grip on her
shoulders began to loosen. She stroked
his arm, her touch gentle and
rhythmic. "It's just you and me, Plankton."

Slowly, the tension in his body
began to ease, his breathing evening
out. Karen remained
a constant, calming presence.

"I'm here," she murmured, her eyes
meeting his, which were now brimming
with unshed tears. "You're ok.
It's just us."

Plankton's antennae stopped
twitching as he focused on Karen's
face. Her eyes were filled with love
and understanding, a beacon in the
storm of his overwhelmed senses.

"You're ok," she repeated, her voice
a lullaby that seemed to resonate with
his racing heart. He nodded slightly,
his gaze never leaving hers.

Sensing his comfort with her
proximity, Karen carefully wrapped
her arms around him. He didn't resist,
instead leaning into her embrace. She
could feel his body relaxing, his
breaths growing deeper.

The room was quiet now. She rocked
him gently, the motion soothing to
them both. His antennae stilled, and
his eye began to droop.

Plankton's body grew heavy, his
muscles finally relaxing. The storm
of his thoughts began to calm, the
sensory overload slowly abating.

Karen felt his grip loosen, his
breaths deepening as he leaned into her
embrace.
The weight of his head grew
heavier against her shoulder. His
breaths grew slower, deeper.
Karen felt Plankton's grip on her
shoulders loosen until his arms
were draped over her, his breathing
deep and even. She knew he was
exhausted. Plankton's
head lolled against her neck, and
she felt the tension in his body
ease away, his limbs going slack.
Her hand stroked his back, the
rhythmic motion a comforting
reminder that he was safe.

Karen noticed Plankton's
breathing had turned into a gentle
snore, his body finally at ease.

Hanna, who stood in the doorway,
came closer to the couple. "I
am so..."

Karen turned to her, her expression
firm but gentle. "Shh," she hushed, raising
a finger. "He's asleep."
She didn't want to explain
his condition, not yet. The words
were still too fresh, too raw.

Hanna nodded, brimming
with unshed tears. She looked at
Plankton, then back to Karen. "What
can I do?" she asked softly.

Karen took a deep breath,
composing herself. "Just give us
some space for now. I can explain
later."

Hanna nodded, her screen never
leaving Plankton. "Ok," she
whispered, retreating.

new autism in the plankton family ii

🗿

new ii twosome erection adultery

༆

new vi pp w sexual reproduction

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⢠⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡸⢐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⢿⡙⠶⢄⣀⠀⢫⠒⢤⣀⠀⠀⢸⠰⠀⠀⣀⡤⣤⠤⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⢒⠦⠄⠈⠉⠁⠠⠀⠉⠉⠙⠃⠚⠉⣠⠎⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⢀⣄⣠⡐⣈⡀⡄⠀⠀⢠⠀⢀⣴⣠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⢨⠟⢁⢔⡁⢀⠔⠀⠐⣡⣯⠃⢠⠀⡆⢤⠀⡀⢰⡯⡒⠠⠤⠀
⢀⣴⡵⣾⢗⣥⣶⣿⣷⣮⡼⢣⠃⢠⣧⣤⣯⣘⠀⢣⠀⣣⡏⠉⠚⠉
⠟⠁⣸⣣⡃⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠷⠾⢶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⣿⡀⢿⣸⡀⠀⠀
⠀⢰⠋⠀⠀⠀⠉⠙⠉⠁⢀⣀⡀⠙⠛⠛⠛⠛⠑⡿⣯⣽⠋⣳⡆⠀
⠀⠈⠳⢦⣄⡀⠀⠀⠘⣄⣀⣀⠼⠃⠀⠀⢀⠀⠠⠴⠿⠛⠋⠁⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠓⠒⠒⠤⠤⠤⠤⠔⠚⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

new jj 38 ii dot art text art ascii art

KAREN REACHING AUTISM pt. 1
(Autistic author)

It happened, during another
failed attempt at the krabby
patty formula. Plankton tried
sneaking through the back
when Mr. Krabs saw him.

"You again!" Mr. Krabs roared,
his eyes bulging like a pair
of boiled eggs about to pop.
"You're not getting it, I'll make
sure of that!"

With that, Mr. Krabs swung
a nearby frying pan with
such ferocity that even
SpongeBob flinched. Plankton's
tiny body was no match
for the metallic beast that
was hurtling towards him,
and the next thing he knew,
his world had gone dark.

SpongeBob's eyes widened
as he watched his boss's
arch-nemesis crumble to the
ground, the frying pan clattering
loudly beside him. The usually
boisterous kitchen was
now eerily silent, save for
the distant hiss of the fryers.
Mr. Krabs' chest heaved with
each breath, his claws still
poised in the air from the swing.

"Mr. Krabs!" Sponge Bob squeaked,
his spatula frozen mid-air. "Is he okay?"
But Mr. Krabs' has retreated to his own
office, leaving Sponge Bob with Plankton.

Carefully, Sponge Bob prodded him
with his spatula. No response.
His single, tiny eyelid was
closed.

After a while, Plankton stirred.

His eye fluttered open, but 
the world was a jumbled mess. 
The colors were too bright, the 
noises too loud, the smells too 
overwhelming. The kitchen of 
the Krusty Krab, a place he still
knew like the back of his tiny 
hand, was suddenly a chaotic
maelstrom of sensory input that 
his brain couldn't process. He 
blinked rapidly, trying to make 
sense of it all, but the clanging 
of pots and pans, the sizzling of 
the fryers, and the garish neon 
lights just added to the confusion.

SpongeBob's face appeared 
above him, a mask of worry 
and concern, his porous 
expression more complex than 
anything Plankton had ever seen. 
"Are you okay?" the sponge 
asked, his voice a gentle wave 
lapping against the shore of 
his newfound reality. Plankton 
nods, running back home to the
Chum Bucket.

Plankton's computer wife Karen's
no stranger to him coming back
upset or wanting space. So as
Plankton retreats to his room in
the Chum Bucket, she doesn't
prompt him.

Alone in the bedroom, Plankton 
intensely stared at the wall, 
his thoughts racing like a tornado. 
Everything was different now. The 
once-familiar world had turned 
on him, and he couldn't understand 
why. The lights in the Chum 
Bucket, usually a comfort, now 
blazed like the sun in his face. The 
noises, oh, the noises! They 
were so loud, so overwhelming, 
like a cacophony of a million 
tiny bells ringing in his head. He 
put his hands over his ears, trying 
to block them out, but even the 
softest hum seemed to resonate 
within his skull. Plankton 
wasn't sure how to process these 
new sensations. His brain was 
on overload, and his body felt like 
it didn't belong to him anymore. He 
was aware of every tiny detail in 
his environment, every speck of 
dust on the floor, every vibration 
from the floorboards, and it was 
all too much.

He tried to get up, to find solace 
in his usual routine, but his legs 
failed him. They trembled and 
wobbled like Jell-O on a stormy 
sea. Plankton fell back onto the 
bed, feeling the softness of the 
pillow beneath him and the cool 
metal of the bed frame against 
his back. It was then that he 
noticed the pattern of the 
wallpaper, the tiny, intricate 
shapes that danced before his eye. 
They spun and swirled, forming 
complex mazes that his mind tried 
desperately to solve. It was 
mesmerizing, yet terrifying. He 
was trapped in a world of 
overstimulation, and he didn't know 
how to escape.

new karen reaching autism acquired autism Karen x Plankton Karen & Sheldon J. Plankton author is neurodivergent 1

They found themselves in the bustling lobby of the ocean's most renowned medical center, the 
Coral Reef Clinic. "You'll be fine," Karen assured, voice steady. "They're the best in the sea."

Finally, a nurse called. She gave an 
encouraging smile. "I'll be right here. You're not in this alone."

The doctor examined Plankton's throat. "My 
Plankton," he said, "you need a tonsillectomy."

A tonsillectomy? The thought of surgery
was more terrifying than facing SpongeBob and Patrick 
combined. But he nodded. "Okay," he whispered.

The doctor explained the procedure Plankton nodded along. 
Karen listened intently. The doctor 
assured them it was a common procedure and that Plankton would be in good hands.

Karen packed 
a bag with his favorite blanket and a few snacks, trying to keep her own anxiety in check.

"Ready?" she asked, voice filled with forced cheerfulness.

Plankton took a breath and nodded. Karen gave 
him a reassuring smile, and together they set off for the clinic.

Once they arrived, Plankton was immediately whisked to a pre-op room. The nurse 
explained the process again. Karen 
stayed by his side, in silent support.

The anesthetic began, and the world grew fuzzy around the edges. The last thing 
Plankton heard was the doctor's calming voice. "You're going to be just fine, Plankton. We'll take 
good care of you." Then, everything went dark.

When he woke up, the world was a whirl. His throat felt as though someone 
had stuffed it with seaweed. He tried to sit up, but his body felt like it was 
made of jelly.
Plankton blinked slowly, struggling to focus.

Karen chuckled softly. "That's the anesthesia, Plankton. It'll wear off soon."

The nurse adjusted his pillows and offered him water. The cool 
liquid trickled down his throat, soothing. Plankton took a moment to settle before speaking 
again. "Did it...did it work?"
"They got 'em out, Plankton. Your tonsils are no more."

Plankton's eye widened. "Really?"

Karen nodded again, smile growing. "Yes, really. You're on the mend now."

Plankton's eye searched the room, still cloudy from the anesthesia. He spotted his favorite 
blanket folded neatly at the hospital bed. "Did you bring that?" he asked, voice slurred.

"Of course," Karen said, her tone warm and soothing. "I knew it would make you feel better."

The nurse, noticing his confusion, leaned in closer. "The anesthesia can make you feel a bit loopy 
for a while, it's completely normal."

Plankton nodded, his movements slow and deliberate. "So, these are the... used to...to take them 
out?"

Karen nodded, trying not to smile at his bewildered state. "They're just tools, Plankton. You won't 
remember anything. It's all over now."

He blinked again, his eyelid feeling heavier than ever. "But...but how will I eat?" he mumbled, his 
voice barely above a whisper.

"Don't worry," Karen said, stroking his forehead gently. "They'll start you on a soft diet, 
like algae smoothies."

Plankton's eye drooped, a lazy grin spread across his face. "Algae...smoothies? 
Sounds...sounds delightful." His words trailed off, his eyelid grew heavy.

Karen watched as he drifted to sleep. Despite his usual 
scheming ways, she knew he was good at heart. And she was determined to be there 
for him, every step of the way. As he slept, she took his hand in hers, gently stroking his arm.

The nurse gave her a knowing look. "He'll be out for a few hours," she said softly. "Why don't you 
go get some fresh air?"

Karen nodded, giving Plankton's hand a final squeeze before letting go. She made her way to the 
waiting area, thoughts swirling like the currents outside. The surgery had been a success, but 
the road to recovery would be a long one. She hoped he'd be ok.

Plankton was still sleeping, breathing even. She looked over at him, his tiny form 
swaddled in the blanket. 

The room was quiet, save for the occasional beep of the heart monitor and the distant sound of 
water gently lapping against the shore. Karen leaned over and whispered, "Plankton, can you hear 
me?"

He stirred slightly, eye fluttering open. "Karen?" croaked his voice barely audible.

"I'm here. How do you feel?"

Plankton's eye searched hers with a dull weariness. "Tired," he 
murmured. "But...it's gone?"

"Yes, gone. You're going to start feeling better."

The nurse, noticing Plankton awake, came over to check on him. She adjusted the 
monitors and took his vitals, confirming that everything was as it should be. "Looks like you're all 
set to go home," she said with a smile. "But remember, take it easy for the next few days."

Karen lit up at the news. She gathered things, eager to get Plankton out 
and back to the comfort of the cafe. The nurse helped him into a wheelchair, and 
they began the journey to the exit. 

Once outside, the sun begun its descent. Karen 
pushed the wheelchair slowly, not wanting to jar him too much on the cobblestone path leading to 
their underwater vehicle. Plankton squinted against the light, eye still adjusting.

Their ride home was quiet, the hum of the engine lulling Plankton to a doze. 

When they pulled into the cafe's docking area, Plankton stirred, his eye blinking open. 

They reached the small living area, and Karen helped Plankton into his favorite chair, 
tucked his blanket around him, making sure he 
was comfortable. He looked up at her with a tired smile, his eye shimmering with gratitude.

"Thank you, Karen," he whispered, voice hoarse from the surgery.

"No need to thank me," she replied, fussing over him. "I'm just happy you're ok."

Plankton's eye searched hers, confusion swirling. "But...what happened?"

 "You had your tonsillectomy, Plankton remember?"

Plankton's eye searched hers, the confusion deepening. "No," he croaked. "The last thing I 
remember is...being in pain."

Karen's heart squeezed at the distress in his voice. "You don't remember the surgery?"

Plankton shook his head, his eye wide with shock. "No, it's all...fuzzy. What happened?"

Karen took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "Well, you went into surgery, and 
the doctors removed your tonsils. You've been asleep for a few hours."

Plankton's eye grew wide. "Asleep?" he squeaked. "How could I have not known?"

Karen nodded, stroking his arm gently. "It's the anesthesia.."

Plankton's mind reeled, trying to piece together the events of the last few hours.  
Everything was a blur, a series of disjointed images and 
sounds that didn't quite make sense. He remembered the doctor's. But the surgery? It was 
as if it had never happened.

He looked over at Karen. She had a smile on her face, as if she could read his thoughts. 
"You were out like a light," she said, voice soothing. 

"What's with the blanket?"

"It's for your comfort," Karen said. "You're going to need to rest your voice."

Plankton leaned back in the chair, eye drifting closed again. "I feel so...so peculiar," he 
murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Like I've been swimming in a sea of bubbles."

Karen chuckled. "It's anesthesia," she said. "You're acting like you've had one too many jellyfish 
jams."

"Everything's spinning," he slurred, his speech still not quite right.

Karen couldn't help but laugh with amusement. "Plankton. It'll wear off soon 
enough."

Plankton's eye grew wide, and he tried to sit up, his movements jerky and uncoordinated. "Karen, I 
think...I think I'm floating," he said with wonder.

Karen couldn't help but laugh. "You're not floating, Plankton. You're just still a bit out 
of it from anesthesia."

"I swear, I can feel the bubbles!" Plankton giggled, his eye trying to follow invisible orbs 
floating in the air. His movements grew more exaggerated. "Look, Karen I'm swimming!"

"Plankton, you're not floating," she said, her voice a 
gentle tease. "You're safe and sound."

He looked at her with a goofy grin, eye still glazed over. "But I feel so...so light," he said, his 
voice trailing off into a giggle. "Like I could float."

Karen couldn't help but smile at his silliness. It was a stark contrast to the fear and anxiety that 
consumed him earlier. "You're not going anywhere, Plankton," she said. "You need rest."

"It's just...it's all so weird," he murmured, eye drifting shut again.

"You're just tired," Karen said, her voice soothing. "Why don't you take a little nap?"

Without another word, Plankton's eye slid shut, body slack. Karen watched him, his 
chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm. She knew for now, he was at peace.

Karen pulled the blanket up to his chin. She 
didn't want to leave his side.

As hours passed, Plankton's snores grew softer. 
The sun sank below the horizon. Karen felt tension ease as she watched 
him sleep.

When Plankton finally stirred again, the room was bathed in the soft glow of the moon through the 
windows. His eye blinked open, free of the anesthesia's haze. He 
looked around, his gaze settling on Karen. "Where...where am I?"

Karen sat up. "You're home, Plankton," she said, voice gentle. "You had your tonsillectomy today."

Confusion swam in Plankton's eye as he took in his surroundings. He felt a dull ache in his throat, 
a stark reminder of the day's events. "Home?" he croaked.

Karen nodded. "You've been sleeping for a while," she said, her voice a gentle caress. "How do you 
feel?"

"Thirsty," he managed to croak.

Karen was at his side. She held a glass of water to his mouth, and he took a tentative 
sip. The cool liquid soothed his throat, and he sighed with relief. "Thank you," he whispered, his 
voice quiet. "What...what happened?"

"You had your tonsillectomy," Karen reminded him, her tone soothing. "You're going to be ok."

Plankton nodded, the reality of the situation slowly sinking in. The fear  
replaced by a new sensation: relief. ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 𝟷,𝟼𝟸𝟷

new language: English Karen/Sheldon J. Plankton Karen (SpongeBob) POV Karen feelings realization waking up post-anesthesia confusion

TRUTH AND NAIL vi

Karen couldn't believe
the transformation.
This was not the Plankton
she knew, not the one who
was always scheming
or complaining. This was
a Plankton who was loose,
free from his usual
inhibitions, and it was
both endearing and a little
unnerving. But mostly,
it was just funny.

He poked Sponge Bob's side
again, his giggle a strange
sound in the quiet
living room. "Still squishy,"
he murmured.

Sponge Bob's laughter
was like a bubble bursting.
"Plankton, you're
loopy!" he exclaimed.

Plankton's eye fluttered
open, his gaze
unfocused. "Loopy?"
he repeated, his voice
slurred. "I'm not a loop,
I'm a...a...a...sea creature!"
He giggled, the sound
like a leaky faucet.

Sponge Bob couldn't
help but laugh harder,
his eyes watering with
mirth. "You're right,
Plankton," he said, his voice
shaking with amusement.
"You're a sea creature.
A very loopy one."

Plankton giggled, his
body jerking with each
laugh. "Loopy, loopy,"
he murmured, his hand
still on Sponge Bob's side.
His eye lit up with
an idea. "Peekaboo!"
he exclaimed, hiding his
eye behind his hand.

Sponge Bob's laughter
was like a symphony of
bubbles, filling the room
with joy. "Oh, Plankton,
you're a riot," he said,
his voice a delighted
chuckle. He played along,
covering his eyes. "Where
did you go?"

Plankton's giggle was
a strange, wobbly sound.
"I'm still here," he slurred,
his voice muffled by
his hand. "I'm...I'm right here."
He peeked through
his fingers, his eye
twinkling with mischief.

Sponge Bob chuckled,
his voice warm and welcoming.
"Where'd you go, Plankton?"
he asked, playing along.

Plankton's eye peeked
out from behind his hand,
his grin wide and goofy.
"Boo!" he exclaimed,
his voice a sloppy whisper.

Sponge Bob's laughter was
a delightful sound, echoing
in the quiet room. "You got me,
Plankton!" he said, his voice
filled with surprise.

Encouraged by the reaction,
Plankton's hand dropped to
his lap, his gaze turning
to Karen. "Wanna...wanna play?"
he asked, his voice still thick
with anesthesia.

Her eyes danced with
laughter. "What game, love?"

Plankton's smile grew, his
voice a sleepy whine. "Pat-a-cake?"

Karen's laugh was a gentle
surprise. "Pat-a-cake?"
she echoed, her hand
moving to his. "Okay, darling."

Their palms met with a
slap, Plankton's movements
slow and awkward.
"Pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake,"
he murmured, his voice
slurred. They played the
game, their hands moving
in a clumsy dance, a silent
reminder of his groggy
state.

Sponge Bob watched, his
laughter a gentle wave in
the background. "Looks
like someone had a bit too
much fun at the dentist,"
he teased, his voice a
soft caress.

Plankton's gaze found his,
his smile a sleepy grin. "Dentith?"
he slurred, his hand
waving vaguely. "No, no,
not dentith...."

Sponge Bob nodded, his
laughter subsiding to
a gentle chuckle. "Alright,
not the dentist," he said,
his voice understanding.
"What game do you
want to play then?"

Plankton's head lolled to
the side, his eye half-closed.
"You know...the one with...
the animals," he murmured,
his words thick and slow.
But Plankton's head
was already lolling back,
his snores a soft rumble
in the quiet room.
Sponge Bob looked at
Karen, his expression
a mix of concern and
amusement. "Should we...?"
he began, his voice trailing off.

Plankton's snore was his
only reply, his mouth
open wide and drool
spilling onto the couch.
Karen chuckled, patting
his hand. "He's just tired,"
she said, her voice a gentle
excuse. Karen
covered him with a soft
blanket, his snores growing
louder as he sank deeper
into sleep. “You can sleep
on the other couch across
by him,” Karen told Sponge
Bob.

The anesthesia worn off over
night, and Plankton only woke
up the next morning on the
couch at the same time as
SpongeBob.

Plankton sat up with a
start, his eye wide.
"Wha... where...what...?"
his words tangled in a
slurry mess.

Sponge Bob stirred on
the couch across from him,
his eyes blinking sleepily.
"Morning, Plankton," he
said.

Plankton's eye focused on
his friend, his mind racing.
"Sponge Bob?" he said, his voice
sharp and clear. "Wath...what's
going on here?!"

Sponge Bob stretches
his limbs. "Well, good
morning to you too, Plankton,"
he said, his voice filled with
cheerful energy. "You had
your wisdom teeth out, remember?"

“I know I went to the dentist
but, what happened after I
came home?” He said, mostly
to himself.

Sponge Bob sat up, rubbing
his eyes. "Well, you were
pretty out of it," he said,
his voice still a bit groggy
from sleep. "But you were also
pretty funny."

Plankton's gaze darted
around the room, his mind
spinning. "What...what do you
mean?" His voice was
sharp, his usual snappiness
creeping back in.

Sponge Bob chuckled,
his body still relaxed
from his nap. "You don't
remember?" he asked, his
voice a tease. "You were
so affectionate, calling
me your best buddy and all."

Plankton's eye narrowed,
his confusion morphing
into suspicion. "I did no
such thing," he said, his voice
a firm rebuttal. "I'm not
that...that..."

Karen stepped in, her
laugh light. "You don't
remember?" she asked, her
voice a gentle tease. "You were
so lovely and affectionate
last night."

Plankton's face scrunched
up in disbelief. "Affectionate?"
he repeated, his voice rising.
"To him?" His thumb jerked
towards Sponge Bob, who
was now watching him with
a knowing smile. "I...I can't
have said that."

Sponge Bob shrugged, his
laugh bubbly. "You sure did,
Plankton. You were poking
me and calling me your
best buddy."

Plankton's disbelief grew,
his eye wide with shock.
"I...I did not!" he protested,
his voice a high-pitched
squeak. "That's...that's not
me!"

Karen couldn't hold back
her laughter, her eyes
twinkling with mirth. "Oh,
it was definitely you, darling,"
she said, her voice a sweet
contrast to his indignation.

Plankton's expression
shifted from shock to
outrage. "But...but why?"
he sputtered, his face
flushing a deep shade
of red. "I don't...I don't
do that sort of...that sort
of thing!"

Karen's laugh was like
a melody, light and
playful. "You did, love,"
she said, her voice a soft
reminder. "You were just a
little...loopy."

Plankton's hand flew to
his mouth, his eye
wide with horror. "No, no, no,"
he murmured, his voice
muffled by his palm. "That
can't be right." He looked
at Sponge Bob with an
accusatory glare. "Who
put me up to this?"

Sponge Bob's laugh was
like a burst of bubbles.
"You don't remember?"
he asked, his voice full
of delight. "It was all
you, buddy. You were
feeling the med..."

"The medicine!"
Plankton exclaimed, his
face paling as realization
hit him. "The anesthesia
made me say those
things.." His voice was
a mix of relief and horror.

Sponge Bob's chuckle
was infectious. "Don't
worry, Plankton," he said,
his voice warm. "We all
have our moments."

But Plankton was not
to be swayed. "That's not
like me," he insisted,
his voice a mix of
dismay and irritation.
"I'm not...I'm not like
that!"

Sponge Bob's chuckles
turned into a full-blown
laugh. "Well, you were
last night," he said,
his voice a gentle ribbing.
"You were all warm
and fuzzy. But you did
eventually fall asleep 
and started snoring.."

Plankton's face was a
picture of disgust. "Snoring?!"
he said, his voice a mix
of outrage and embarrassment.

Karen's laugh was like a
small wave on the shore.
"It's okay, honey," she said,
patting his leg. "You were
just really tired."

"I...I don't snore," he
asks, his voice firm.

Sponge Bob couldn't help
but chuckle, his laugh
bubbly. "Well, you did
last night," he said, his voice
a gentle reminder.

Plankton's eye narrowed,
his usual snappiness returning
with full force. "I...I
snored?" he asked, his voice
skeptical.

Karen's smile was
sympathetic. "You did, darling,"
she said, her voice soothing.
"But it's all right. It's just
what happens when you're
tired."

Plankton's eye shot to hers,
his expression a mix of
disbelief and irritation. "But
I...I never snored," he insisted,
his voice a protest. “Right, Karen?”

Her laugh was a gentle tide,
washing over his protests.
"You do snore, Plankton,"
she said, her voice a warm
caress. "But it's nothing to be
embarrassed about."

Plankton's face was a mask
of disbelief, his voice
a tight knot of denial. "I
snore?" he repeated, as if
the word was foreign to
his vocabulary.

Sponge Bob's laughter
was a delightful sound, his
body shaking with mirth.
"Yes, Plankton," he said,
his voice full of affection.
"But don't worry, it's
not so bad. I mean, you're
not as loud as Patrick."

Karen's giggle joined
his, the two of them
laughing gently at Plankton's
expense. But their laughter
wasn't cruel, it was the
kind that comes from knowing
someone so well that their
quirks become endearing.

"I...I do?" Plankton
asked, his voice barely
above a murmur.

Sponge Bob nodded,
his laughter subsiding
into a knowing smile.
"But hey, we all have
our little quirks, right?"

Karen's eyes sparkled
with amusement. "It's
part of who we are, love,"
she said, her voice a gentle
reminder of the truth.

new truth and nail plankbobs vi

ᑦᵃʳᵉ ᵃᶰᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ
⁽ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃᶰᶠᶤᶜ⁾
"ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰᵎ" ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷᶤᶠᵉ ᵉˣᶜˡᵃᶤᵐᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ
ᵒᶰ ˢᵉᵉᶤᶰᵍ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃᶰᵈ ᵉᶰᵗᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᶤᶰ
ᵃ ᵖᶤᵗᶤᶠᵘˡ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵉ˒ ᵐᵒᵛᶤᶰᵍ ʷᵒᵇᵇˡʸ ᵃᶰᵈ ˢᵉᵉᵐᶤᶰᵍˡʸ ˡᶤᵍʰᵗ
ʰᵉᵃᵈᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᶤᶰˑ "ᴹʸ ᵖˡᵃᶰ'ˢ ᶠᵘᵗᶤˡᵉ ᵃᵍᵃᶤᶰˑ"
ˢᶜᵒᵒᵖᶤᶰᵍ ʰᶤᵐ ᵘᵖ˒ ˢʰᵉ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ʰᶤᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵈ
ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᶜᵒᶰᶜᵉʳᶰᵉᵈˑ "ˢᵒ˒ ʷʰᵃᵗˑˑˑ" "ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗʳᶤᵖˢ
ᵐᵉ ᵃᶰᵈ ᴵ ˢˡᶤᵈ ʰᵃʳᵈˑˑˑ" "ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰᵉ
ᶰᵒʷ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵍᵉᵗ ʳᵉˢᵗˑ" ᴾᵘᵗᵗᶤᶰᵍ ʰᶤᵐ ᵈᵒʷᶰ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ
ᵍᵒᵗ ᵃ ᵇᵒᵒᵏˑ "ᵞᵒᵘʳ ᵇᵒᵈʸ ᶰᵉᵉᵈˢ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵛᵉʳˑ"
ˢʰᵉ ˢᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵒᵏ ᵒᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵇʸ ʰᶤˢ ᵇᵉᵈˑ "ᵀʰᵃᶰᵏ
ʸᵒᵘ˒ ˢᵒ ᵐᵘᶜʰˑˑ" ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ˡᵉᵃᶰˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵒᶰ ᵖᶤˡˡᵒʷˑ
"ᴵ'ˡˡ ˡᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵉ˒ ᵃᶰᵈ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᶠʳᵉᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵉˡˡ ᵐᵉ ᵃᶰʸ
ᵗʰᶤᶰᵍ ʸᵒᵘˑˑˑ" "ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᴵ˒ ᶜᵃᶰ ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ᵃ ʰᵘᵍˀ" "ˢᵘʳᵉˑˑ"
ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ʰᶤᵐ ᵃ ˡᶤᵍʰᵗ ʰᵘᵍ ˢᵒ ᵃˢ ᶰᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵒᵛᵉʳʷʰᵉˡᵐ ʰᶤᵐˑ
ˢʰᵉ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵈʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵈᵒᵒʳ ᶜʳᵃᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵃᶰᵈ ʷᵉᶰᵗ
ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ʷʰᵃᵗ ˢʰᵉ'ˢ ᵈᵒᶤᶰᵍ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉˑ ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ˢᵒᵐᵉ
ᵗᶤᵐᵉ ᵖᵃˢˢᵉᵈ˒ ˢʰᵉ ᵈᵉᶜᶤᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ ᶤᶰ ᵃᶰᵈ ˢᵉᵉ
ʰᵒʷ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ'ˢ ᵈᵒᶤᶰᵍˑ ᴾᵉᵉᵏᶤᶰᵍ ᶤᶰ˒ ˢʰᵉ ˢᵃʷ ʰᶤᵐˑ
ᴴᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃᶰᵈ'ˢ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ˒ ʰᶤˢ ᵉʸᵉ
ᵇʳᵒʷ ᵘᶰᶠᵘʳʳᵒʷᵉᵈ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ˢᵒᵐᵉ
ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵖᵃʳᵗᶤᵃˡˡʸ ᵃʲᵃʳˑ ᴳˡᵃᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶠᶤᶰᵃˡˡʸ
ˢᵉᵉ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰᶤᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ʳᵉˢᵗ
ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ˢᶤᵍʰᵉᵈˑ ˢʰᵉ ᵏᶰᵉʷ ʰᶤˢ ᵇᵒᵈʸ'ˢ
ᶤᶰ ᶰᵉᵉᵈ ᵒᶠ ᶤᵗ˒ ˢᵉᵉᶤᶰᵍ ᶤᶰ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵃ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵉˑ
ˢʰᵉ ᵖᵘˡˡᵉᵈ ʰᶤˢ ᵇˡᵃᶰᵏᵉᵗ ᶜᵒᵛᵉʳˢ ᶤᶰ ᵃ ᵐᵒʳᵉ
ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗᵃᵇˡᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃᶰᵈ˒ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ᶰᵒᵗ
ᵐᵒᵛᶤᶰᵍ ᵉᵛᵉᶰ ᶤᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ˢˡᶤᵍʰᵗᵉˢᵗ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ᵈᶤᵈˑ
ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵗʰᵉᶰ ʷᵉᶰᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵗᵒ
ᶜᵒᶰᵗᶤᶰᵘᵉ ʰᶤˢ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᶰᵉᵉᵈᵉᵈ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵛᵉʳʸˑ
ˢʰᵉ ᵈᶤᵈᶰ'ᵗ ʷᵃᶰᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵈᶤˢʳᵘᵖᵗ˒ ˢᵒ ˢʰᵉ ᵈᵉᶜᶤᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ
ᵈᵒ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵠᵘᶤᵉᵗ ᵗᵃˢᵏˢˑ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ
ᵍᵉᵗᵗᶤᶰᵍ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ᵈʳᶤᶰᵏ ʷʰᵉᶰ
ᵉᵛᵉʳ ʰᵉ ʷᵃᵏᵉˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵘᵖ ᵃᵍᵃᶤᶰˑ ᴵᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉᵃᶰ
ᵗᶤᵐᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵐᵒᵛᵉᵈ ᶰᵒʷ ᵗᵒ ᵃᶰᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵗᵃˢᵏˑ
ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏᶤᶰᵍ ᵘᵖ ᵒᶰ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃᶰᵈ ᵃᵍᵃᶤᶰ
ˢᵉᵉᶤᶰᵍ ʰᶤᵐ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ᵃˢ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ˒ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ʷᵉᶰᵗ ᵗᵒ
ᵈᵒ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵒᶠ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ'ˢ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡ ᶜʰᵒʳᵉˢ ᶠᵒʳ ʰᶤᵐˑ
ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ʰᶤᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ʷᵃᵏᶤᶰᵍ ᵘᵖ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ 
ᵘᶰᶤᶰᵗᵉᶰᵗᶤᵒᶰᵃˡˡʸ ᶰᵃᵖᵖᶤᶰᵍˑ ᴴᵉ ᵒᵖᵉᶰˢ ʰᶤˢ
ᵉʸᵉ ᵃˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᶤᶰ ʷᶤᵗʰ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳˑ
ᶠᵉᵉˡᶤᶰᵍ ᶰᵒᵗ ᵃˢ ʷᵉᵃᵏ ᵃˢ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ˒ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ
ˢᶤᵍʰˢˑ "ᴵ ᵍᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵈʳᶤᶰᵏˑˑ" ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ
ˢᵐᶤˡᵉᵈˑ ᵀʰᵉ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳˑ "ᵀʰᵃᶰᵏˢˑˑ"
"ᴵ ᶜᵃᶰ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ᵖᵘᵗ ᵒᶰ ᵐᵒᵛᶤᵉ ᶰᶤᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵘᵗ ᶤᵗ'ˢ ᵘᵖ
ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘᵎ" ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰᶤᵐˑ "ᴺᵒᵗ ʳᶤᵍʰᵗ ᶰᵒʷˑ"
"ᵂᵉˡˡ ᵗʰᵉᶰ ᴵ'ᵐ ᵍᵒᶰᶰᵃ ᵍᵒ ᵗᵒ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵘᶰˡᵉˢˢ ʸᵒᵘ ᶰᵉᵉᵈ ᵃᶰʸ
ᵗʰᶤᶰᵍ ᶠᶤʳˢᵗˑˑ" "ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰˑˑ" ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ˢᵃʸˢˑ ᵀʰᵉ ᶰᵉˣᵗ
ᵐᵒʳᶰᶤᶰᵍ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ʷᵒᵏᵉ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵈᶤᵈ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵃʳᵒᵘᶰᵈ ᵒᶰ ᵗʰᵉ
ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗˑ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ˢᵃᵗ ᵘᵖ ᶤᶰ ᵇᵉᵈ˒ ʳᵉᵃᵈᶤᶰᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵒᵏ
ᵒᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵇʸ ʰᶤᵐˑ ᴮᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃᶰ ʸᵉˢᵗᵉʳᵈᵃʸ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ᶰᵒᵗ
ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ᶰᵒʳᵐᵃˡ˒ ʰᵉ ᶠᶤᶰᶤˢʰᵉᵈ ʳᵉᵃᵈᶤᶰᵍ ᵃˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᶤᶰˑ
"ᶠᶤᶰᶤˢʰᵉᵈ ᵐʸ ᵇᵒᵒᵏˑˑ" "ᴵ ᶜᵃᶰ ᵍᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃ ᵈᶤᶠᶠᵉʳᵉᶰᵗ ᵇᵒᵒᵏ
ᶤᶠ ʸᵒᵘˑˑˑ" "ᴵ'ᵈ ˡᶤᵏᵉ ᵗᵒˑˑ" ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵍᵒᵗ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ᶰᵉˣᵗ ᵒᶰᵉˑ
ˢʰᵉ ᵃˡˢᵒ ʳᵉᵖˡᵃᶜᵉᵈ ʰᶤˢ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ˒ ᵍᵉᵗᵗᶤᶰᵍ ʰᶤᵐ ᶠʳᵉˢʰ
ᵗᵒ ᵈʳᶤᶰᵏˑ "ᑦᵒᵐᵖᵃʳᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʸᵉˢᵗᵉʳᵈᵃʸ˒ ʰᵒʷ ᵃʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘˑˑˑ"
"ᴵ'ᵐ ᶰᵒᵗ ᵃᵗ ᵐʸ ᵇᵉˢᵗ˒ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃᶰ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉˑ"
ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᶰᵒᵗᶤᶜᵉᵈ ʰᵉʳ ᶠʳᶤᵉᶰᵈ ᴴᵃᶰᶰᵃ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᶤᶰˑ
"ᴴᶤ˒ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰᵎ ᴵ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵇʸˑˑ" "ᴴᵃᶰᶰᵃ ᶤᵗ'ˢ ᶰᶤᶜᵉ ᵗᵒ
ˢᵉᵉ ʸᵒᵘˑ ᴶᵘˢᵗ ᵏᶰᵒʷ ᵐʸ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃᶰᵈ ᶠᵉˡˡ ʸᵉˢᵗᵉʳᵈᵃʸ
ᵃᶰᵈ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ʳᵉᶜᵘᵖᵉʳᵃᵗᶤᶰᵍˑ ᴴᵉ'ˢ ᶤᶰ ᵇᵉᵈˑˑˑ" "ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸᵎ"
ᴴᵃᶰᶰᵃ ᶰᵉᵛᵉʳ ᶠᵒʳᵐᵃˡˡʸ ᵐᵉᵗ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵒᶠᶠᶤᶜᶤᵃˡˡʸˑ
"ᴵ'ˡˡ ˢᵉᵉ ᵗᵒ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ ᵘᵖ ᵒᶰ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ʳᵉᵃˡ ᵠᵘᶤᶜᵏˑ"
ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ˢᵃᶤᵈ ᵗᵒ ᴴᵃᶰᶰᵃˑ ˢʰᵉ ˢᵗᵒᵒᵈ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳˑ
"ᴴᵉʸ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵐʸ ᶠʳᶤᵉᶰᵈ ᴴᵃᶰᶰᵃ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵇʸˑˑ" ˢᵃʸˢ
ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ˒ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ᵈᶤᵈᶰ'ᵗ ᵃᶰˢʷᵉʳ ʰᵉʳ ᵃᵗ ᵃˡˡˑ "ˢʷᵉᵉᵗˢˀ"
ᴴᵃᶰᶰᵃ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷᵉᵈ ᵇᵉʰᶤᶰᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᶰᵒʷ ᶠᵒʳ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰˑ
ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ'ˢ ʳᵉˢᵗᶤᶰᵍ ʷʰᵉᶰ ˢᵘᵈᵈᵉᶰˡʸ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵃ ᵗᵃᵖ
ᵒᶰ ʰᶤˢ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈᵉʳˑ ᵀʷᶤᵗᶜʰᶤᶰᵍ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵉᶰˢᵃᵗᶤᵒᶰ
ᵃᶰᵈ ᵒᵖᵉᶰᶤᶰᵍ ʰᶤˢ ᵉʸᵉ˒ ʰᵉ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᵃ ˢᶰᵘᶠᶠˡᶤᶰᵍ ᶰᵒᶤˢᵉˑ
ᴴᵃᶰᶰᵃ ˢᵃʷ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ'ˢ ᵒᶰ ʰᶤˢ ˢᶤᵈᵉ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʰᵉ
ᵗᵘʳᶰᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ˒ ʳᵒᵘˢᶤᶰᵍ ʷᶤᵗʰ ᵃ ˢᶰᵘᶠᶠˡᵉˑ "ᴴᵉʸ
ˢᵒʳʳʸ˒ ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʷᵃᶰᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵃʸ ᵐʸ ᶠʳᶤᵉᶰᵈ ᴴᵃᶰᶰᵃˑˑˑ"
"ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ʷᵉ ᵈᵒᶰ'ᵗ ᶰᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ʰᶤᵐ˒ ᵃᶰᵈ ᴵ ᶜᵃᶰ
ᵛᶤˢᶤᵗ ᵃᶰʸ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵗᶤᵐᵉˑˑ" ᴴᵃᶰᶰᵃ ᶤᶰᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰˑ
ˢʰᵉ ˢᵃʷ ʰᶤᵐ ʷᶤᵖᵉ ᵃʷᵃʸ ᵈʳᵒᵒˡ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵃˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ
ʳᵉᵃˡᶤˢᵉᵈ ʰᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗˡᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖˑ "ᵞᵒᵘ
ᵏᶰᵒʷ˒ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᶜᵃˡˡ ᵐᵉ ʷʰᵉᶰ ᶤᵗ'ˢ ᵃ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᵗᶤᵐᵉˑˑ"
"ˢᵒʳʳʸˑˑ" ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ˢᵃʸˢ ᵃˢ ᴴᵃᶰᶰᵃ ˡᵉᶠᵗˑ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ˢᵃᵗ
ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ᶠᵃᶜᵉ ʰᵉʳˑ ˢʰᵉ ʰᵒᵖᵉᵈ ʰᵉ ʷᵒᶰ'ᵗ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗˑ
"ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᴵˑˑˑ" "ᴵ ᵏᶰᵒʷ ᶤᵗ'ˢ ᶰᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠᵃᵘˡᵗˑ ᴾᵉʳʰᵃᵖˢ
ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ˒ ᶤᶠ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ᶤᶰᵗᵉʳᵉˢᵗᵉᵈ˒ ʷᵉ ᶜᵃᶰ ᵈᵒ
ᵐᵒᵛᶤᵉ ᶰᶤᵍʰᵗˑ ᴹʸ ˡᶤᵐᵇˢ ᵈᵒᶰ'ᵗ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵃˢ ʷᵉᵃᵏ ᶰᵒʷˑ"
"ᴵ'ᵐ ᵍˡᵃᵈˑ ᴶᵘˢᵗ ᵗʰᶤᶰᵏ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵍᵉᵗᵗᶤᶰᵍ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵃᶰᵈ
ᶜᵃᵗᶜʰᶤᶰᵍ ᵘᵖ ᵒᶰ ʳᵉˢᵗ˒ ᵃˢ ᴵ ᵏᶰᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ˢᵖᵉᶰᵗ
ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵉᵉᵏᵉᶰᵈ ᵈᵃʸ ᵃᶰᵈ ᶰᶤᵍʰᵗ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵖᵃˢᵗ ʷᵉᵉᵏ
ʷᶤᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘʳˑˑˑ" "ᴵ ʷᶤˡˡˑ ᴬᶰᵈ˒ ᵗʰᵃᶰᵏˢˑˑ" ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ˢᵃʸˢˑ
ᵂʰᵉᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘᶰ ʷᵉᶰᵗ ᵈᵒʷᶰ˒ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵈᵉᶜᶤᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ
ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ ᶤᶰ ᵒᶰ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵃᵍᵃᶤᶰ; ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖˑ
ˢᵘᵈᵈᵉᶰˡʸ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ'ˢ ᵖʰᵒᶰᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʳᶤᶰᵍ ᵐᵃᵏᶤᶰᵍ
ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵍʳᵒᵃᶰˑ ᴴᵉ'ˢ ᶰᵒᵗ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖᶤᶰᵍ ᵃˢ ᵈᵉᵉᵖˡʸ ᵃᶰʸ
ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ʳᵉᵃˡᶤˢᵉᵈ˒ ˢᵒ ˢʰᵉ ˢᶤˡᵉᶰᶜᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʰᵒᶰᵉˑ
ˢʰᵉ ᵈᶤᵈᶰ'ᵗ ʷᵃᶰᵗ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ʰᶤᵐ ᵘᵖ ᵃᵍᵃᶤᶰ ˢᵒ ˢʰᵉ
ˢᵒᵒᵗʰᵉᵈ ʰᶤᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵖʳᵉᵛᵉᶰᵗˑ ᵂʰᵉᶰᶜᵉ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ 
ᵛᶤˢᶤᵇˡʸ ʳᵉˡᵃˣᵉᵈ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ˢʰᵉ ᶜᵃˡᵐᵉᵈ ʰᶤᵐ˒ ˢʰᵉ ᵗʰᵉᶰ
ᶰᵒʷ ᵃᶰˢʷᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʰᵒᶰᵉ˒ ˡᵉᵃᵛᶤᶰᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐˑ
"ᴴᵉˡˡᵒˀ" ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ˢᵃʸˢ˒ ˡᵉᵃᵛᶤᶰᵍ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃᶰᵈ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖˑ
ˢᵃᶰᵈʸ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈˑ "ᴴᵉʸ ᴵ ᶜᵃᶰ'ᵗ ʳᶤᵍʰᵗ ᶰᵒʷ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵗᵃˡᵏ ᵃᶰ
ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵈᵃʸˑˑ" ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰᵉʳˑ ᴺᵉˣᵗ ᵐᵒʳᶰᶤᶰᵍ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ
ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳˑ "ᵞᵒᵘ ᵃˡˡ ᵍᵒᵒᵈˀ" "ᴵᶠ ʷᵉ ᶜᵃᶰ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰ ᵐᵒᵛᶤᵉˢᵎ"
❥𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 - 𝟶.𝟾𝙺

new Karen (SpongeBob) POV Karen Sleep & Naps sleeping in watching movies together muscle cramps care and karen

ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵒᶰ ⱽᵃᶜᵃᵗᶤᵒᶰ
⁽ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃᶰᶠᶤᶜ⁾
ᴹʳˑ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵃʷ ˢᵃᶰᵈʸ ᵃᶰᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵉˣᶤᵗ
ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵗᵒᵍᵉᵗʰᵉʳˑ "ᴰᶤᵈ ʸᵒᵘ
ᵗᵉˡˡ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰˀ" ᴬˢᵏᵉᵈ ˢᵃᶰᵈʸˑ "ᴵ ˡᵉᶠᵗ
ʰᶤᵐ ᵃ ᶰᵒᵗᵉ˒ ᶠᵒʳ ʷʰᵉᶰ ʰᵉ ʷᵃᵏᵉˢ ᵘᵖˑ"
ᵂʰᵉᶰᶜᵉ ᵗʰᵉʸ ˡᵉᶠᵗ˒ ᴹʳˑ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʷᵃᶰᵗᵉᵈ
ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵃᵈᵛᵃᶰᵗᵃᵍᵉˑ ᴴᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ
ᵐᵒᵈᵉˡ ˢᶤᵐᶤˡᵃʳ ᵗᵒ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ'ˢ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵇʳᵒᵏᵉ
ᶤᵗ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵖᵘᵗᵗᶤᶰᵍ ᶤᵗ ᶤᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗˑ
ᴬˢ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᶰᵒᵗᵉ˒ ʰᵉ ʷᵉᶰᵗ ᶤᶰ
ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ'ˢ ʳᵒᵒᵐˑ ˢᵒ ᶰᵒʷ
ᶰᵒᵗᶤᶜᶤᶰᵍ ʰᵉ'ˢ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵃᶰᵈ 
ˢᶰᵒʳᶤᶰᵍ ᴹʳˑ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᵗʰᵉ
ˡᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᵃᶰᵈ ʳᶤᵈ ᵒᶠ ᶤᵗˑ
ᵀʰᵉ ᶰᵒᵗᵉ ᵉˣᵖˡᵃᶤᶰᵉᵈ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ
ʷᵉᶰᵗ ᵒᶰ ᵃ ᵗʳᶤᵖ˒ ˢᵒ ᴹʳˑ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʳᶤᵖˢ
ᶤᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ᶤᵗ ˢᵉᵉᵐ ˡᶤᵏᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ
ᵍᵒᵗ ᵘᵗᵗᵉʳˡʸ ᵈᵉˢᵗʳᵒʸᵉᵈ˒ ᵃˢ ᵖᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ
ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ᵐᵒᵈᵉˡ ᴹʳˑ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˡᵉᶠᵗˑˑ
ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵉᵃʳˢ ᶜʳʸᶤᶰᵍ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ
ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵒᶰ ʰᶤˢ ʷᵃʸ ᵗᵒ ʷᵒʳᵏˑ
"ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰᵎ" ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ʷᵃᶤˡᵉᵈˑ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʷ
ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵉˢᵗʳᵒʸᵉᵈ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ'ˢ ˢᶜʳᵉᵉᶰ ʷʰᶤˡˢᵗ
ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ˢʰᵉᵈ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢˑ "ᴼʰ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ʷʰᵃᵗ'ˢ
ʷʳᵒᶰᵍ ʷᶤᵗʰ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰˀ" "ˢʰᵉ'ˢ ᵍᵒᶰᵉᵎ ˢʰᵉ ʷᵒᶰ'ᵗ
ᵗᵘʳᶰ ᵒᶰ; ᴵ ᵈᵒᶰ'ᵗ ᵏᶰᵒʷ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉᶰᵉᵈᵎ ᴵ ᵍᵒᵗ
ᵘᵖ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵇᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡ ᵃᶰᵈ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᶰᵒʷ ˢᵃʷˑˑˑ"
"ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᶜᵃᶰ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᶤˣ ʰᵉʳˀ" "ᴺᵒ ᴵ ᶜᵃᶰ'ᵗ
ʳᵉᶜᵒᵛᵉʳ ʰᵉʳ ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳᶤᵉˢ ᶰᵒʳ ᵈᵃᵗᵃˑ ᴵᶠ ᴵ'ᵈ
ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ᵃ ᶰᵉʷ ᵐᵒᵈᵉˡ ᶤᵗ'ᵈ ᶰᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵇᵉˑˑˑ" "ᴵ ᵃᵐ
ˢᵒ ˢᵒʳʳʸᵎ" ᵀʰᵉʸ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᵉᵐᵇʳᵃᶜᵉ ᶤᶰ ᵃ ʰᵘᵍˑ
ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ˢᵒᵇᵇᵉᵈ ᶰ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈᵉʳˑ "ᴼʰ
ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰˑˑ" ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵇᵃʷˡˢˑ "ᴶᵘˢᵗ ˡᵉᵗ ᶤᵗ ᵃˡˡ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵃᶰᵈ
ʰᵘᵍ ᵐᵉˑˑ" ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʸˢ˒ ᵘˢᶤᶰᵍ ʰᶤˢ ʰᵃᶰᵈ ᵗᵒ
ᵐᵃˢˢᵃᵍᵉ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ'ˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏˑ "ᴵᵗ'ˢ ᶰᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠᵃᵘˡᵗˑ"
ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵏᶰᵉʷ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᵐᶤˢˢ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵇᵘᵗ ᶰᵒʷ
ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ'ˢ ᶤᶰ ᵍʳᵉᵃᵗᵉʳ ᶰᵉᵉᵈˑ ᴱᵛᵉᶰ ʷʰᵉᶰᶜᵉ
ᶜʳᶤᵉˢ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵈᶤᵉ ᵈᵒʷᶰ˒ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ
ˢʰᵉᵈ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ'ˢ ˢᵒᵒᵗʰᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇˑ
ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ
ᵈᵉᵛᵃˢᵗᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵒˢˢˑ "ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵈᶤᵈᶰ'ᵗ
ᵃᶜᵗ ᵘᶰᵘˢᵘᵃˡ ᵃᶰᵈ ᶰᵒᵗʰᶤᶰᵍ ˢᵉᵉᵐᵉᵈ ᵒᶠᶠᵎ
ᴴᵒʷ ᵈᶤᵈ ˢʰᵉ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵏˀ" "ᴵ ᵈᵒᶰ'ᵗ ᵏᶰᵒʷˑˑˑ"
ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᶤᵍʰᵉᵈˑ "ᴵᶠ ᶰᵒᵗʰᶤᶰᵍ'ˢ ᵒᵘᵗ
ᵒᶠ ᵒʳᵈᵉʳˑˑˑ" "ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵈᶤᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵉᵃʳ
ᵃᶰʸ ˢᵘˢᵖᶤᶜᶤᵒᵘˢ ᶰᵒᶤˢᵉ˒ ˡᶤᵏᵉ ᵃ ᶜʳᵃˢʰˀ"
"ᴵ ᵈᶤᵈ ᶰᵒᵗˑ" "ᵀʰᵉᶰ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ᶰᵒ ᶰᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶠᵉᵉˡ
ᵍᵘᶤˡᵗʸ ᶤᶠ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ ᵇᵉᵉᶰ ᵘᶰᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒˑˑˑ" ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉ
ᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᶜʳʸᶤᶰᵍ
ʰᵃʳᵈ ᵃᵍᵃᶤᶰˑ "ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃᶰᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉ
ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳᶤᵃˡˑˑˑ" ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ʰᶤᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵗᵉᵃʳ
ᵘᵖ ᶰᵒʷˑ "ᵞᵒᵘ ᶜᵃᶰ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᶤᵐᵉ ᶰᵉᵉᵈˑ"
"ᵂʰʸ'ˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒˡᵈ ᵖʰᵒᶰᵉ ᵘᶰᵖˡᵘᵍᵍᵉᵈˀ" ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ
ᶰᵒᵗᶤᶜᵉᵈ˒ ᶰᵒᵗ ᵏᶰᵒʷᶤᶰᵍ ᴹʳˑ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵈᶤˢᶜᵒᶰᶰᵉᶜᵗᵉᵈ
ᶤᵗ ᵉᵃʳˡᶤᵉʳˑ "ᴵ'ˡˡ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵖˡᵘᵍ ᶤᵗ ᶤᶰ ᵃᶰᵈ ˢᵉᵉ ᶤᶠ ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ᵃᶰʸ
ᵛᵒᶤᶜᵉ ᵐᵉˢˢᵃᵍᵉˢ˒ ᵉᵛᵉᶰ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃᶰ'ᵗ ᵗᵉˡˡ
ʷʰᵉᶰ ᵗʰᵉʸ'ʳᵉ ˢᵉᶰᵗˑˑ" ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵖˡᵘᵍˢ ᶤᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᶤᶰˑ
ᴾʳᵉˢˢᶤᶰᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖˡᵃʸ ᵇᵘᵗᵗᵒᶰ˒ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ'ˢ ᵛᵒᶤᶜᵉ ᵃᵖᵖᵉᵃʳˢ
ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᵃ ᵐᵉˢˢᵃᵍᵉˑ 'ᴴᶤ˒ ˢʰᵉˡᵈᵒᶰᵎ ᴶᵘˢᵗ ˡᵉᵃᵛᶤᶰᵍ
ʸᵒᵘ ᵃ ᵐᵉˢˢᵃᵍᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵃʸ ʰᵉˡˡᵒˑ ᴸᶤˢᵗᵉᶰ ᴵ ᵏᶰᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ
ᵐᶤᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵇᵘˢʸ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵐᶤᵍʰᵗ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵇᵉ ˡᶤˢᵗᵉᶰᶤᶰᵍ ᵒᵘᵗ
ᵒᶠ ᵇᵒʳᵉᵈᵒᵐ˒ ᵇᵘᵗ ʷʰᵉᶰ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵃᶰᶜᵉ ᴵ
ʷᵃᶰᵗ ᵘˢ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵉᶰᵈ ᵗᶤᵐᵉ ʷᶤᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘˑ ᴸᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘᵎ'
ᵀʰᵉ ᶰᵉˣᵗ ᵒᶰᵉ'ˢ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰˑ 'ᴴᵉʸ
ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏˢ; ᴵ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ˡᶤᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᶰᵒ ᶤᶰᵗᵉʳᵉˢᵗ
ᶤᶰ ᵘˢ˒ ᶤᶰ ᵐᵉˑ ᴵ ᵃᵐ ᵍᵒᶤᶰᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵛᶤˢᶤᵗ ˢᵃᶰᵈʸˑ
ˢᵒ ᶤᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈᵒ ᶰᵒᵗ ˢᵉᵉ ᵐᵉ˒ ᴵ ᵃᵐ ʷᶤᵗʰ ʰᵉʳˑ
ᴵ ʷᶤˡˡ ᵇᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ˒ ᵉᵛᵉᶰ ᶤᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈᵒ ᶰᵒᵗ ᶜᵃʳᵉˑ
ᴺᵒ ᵐᵃᵗᵗᵉʳ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᴵ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ʷᵃᶰᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ˢʰᵒʷ
ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵐᵉ˒ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᴵ ᵏᶰᵒʷ ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘˑ'
ᵂᶤᵗʰ ᶰᵒ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵐᵉˢˢᵃᵍᵉˢ ᵃᶰᵈ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ᵗʰᶤᶰᵏᶤᶰᵍ
ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ'ˢ ᵈᵉᵃᵈ˒ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ʳᵃᶰ ᵗᵒ ʰᶤˢ ᵇᵉᵈʳᵒᵒᵐˑ
ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵏᶰᵉʷ ʰᵉ ˡᵒᵛᵉᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᶤᶰ ʰᶤˢ ᵒʷᶰ ʷᵃʸˑ
ᴺᵒᵗ ˡᶤᵏᶤᶰᵍ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ˢᵒ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ˒ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ
ˢᶤᵍʰᵉᵈ˒ ᵍᵒᶤᶰᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵈʳᵒᵒᵐˑ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ'ˢ ᶠᵃᶜᵉ
ᵈᵒʷᶰ ᵃᶰᵈ ᶜʳʸᶤᶰᵍˑ "ᴴᵉʸ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰˑ" ᴴᵉ ˢᵃᵗ ᵒᶰ
ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ'ˢ ᵇᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ʰᶤᵐ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢᵃᵗ ʰᶤᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵘᵖˑ
"ᴵ ᵏᶰᵒʷ ᶤᵗ'ˢ ᶰᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵐᵉ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ˡᵒˢᵗ ᵐʸ ˢᵉᵃ
ʰᵒʳˢᵉ ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ᶰᵃᵐᵉᵈ ᵐʸˢᵗᵉʳʸˑ ᴮᵘᵗ ᴵ ʰᵃᵈ ᵗᵒ ˡᵉᵗ
ʰᵉʳ ᵍᵒˑ ᵁᶰᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᶜʰᵃᶰᵍᵉ ᶠᵃᵗᵉ˒ ᴵ ᵃᶜᶜᵉᵖᵗᵉᵈ
ᶤᵗ ᵃˢ ᶤᶰᵉᵛᶤᵗᵃᵇˡᵉˑ" ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰˑ
ᴴᵉ ˢᶤᵍʰᵉᵈˑ "ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃᶰᶰᵃ ᵗᵃˡᵏ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳᶤᵉˢ
ᵒᶠ ʰᵉʳˀ ᴼʳ ᵈᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ʲᵘˢᵗˑˑˑ" "ᴵ'ˡˡ ᶰᵉᵛᵉʳ ʰᵉᵃʳ ʰᵉʳ ᶰᵃᵍ
ᵐᵉ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵃᵍᵃᶤᶰˑˑ" ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᶤᶰᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗᵉᵈ ʷᶤᵗʰ ᵃ ˢᵃᵈ
ˢᵐᶤˡᵉ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ ᵘᵖ ᵃᵍᵃᶤᶰˑ "ᴵ ᶜᵃᶰ ᵍᶤᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵒᵐᵉ
ᵗᶤᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵖʳᵒᶜᵉˢˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ'ˡˡ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵇʸ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ
ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ ᵒᶰ ʸᵒᵘˑ" ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵒᶠᶠ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ'ˢ ᵇᵉᵈˑ
"ᵀʰᵃᶰᵏˢ˒ ᵏᶤᵈˑˑ" ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶰᵒᵈᵈᵉᵈ ᵃᶰᵈ ˡᵉᶠᵗˑ
ᴵᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᶤᵈᵈˡᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᶰᶤᵍʰᵗ˒ ᴹʳˑ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʷᵉᶰᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᶤᶰ
ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ˢᵒ ᵗᵒ ᵇˡᵒᶜᵏ ᵃᶰʸ ᶜᵃˡˡˢ ᵒʳ ᵛᵒᶤᶜᵉ
ᵐᵉˢˢᵃᵍᵉˢ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵒᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵒᵐᵉ ᵖʰᵒᶰᵉˑ
"ᵂʰʸ'ˢ ʰᵉ ᶰᵒᵗ ᵃᶰˢʷᵉʳᶤᶰᵍˀ" ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵗʳᶤᵉᵈ
ᶜᵃˡˡᶤᶰᵍ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃᶰᵈˑ "ᴸᵒᵒᵏˢ ˡᶤᵏᵉ ʰᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ
ᵇˡᵒᶜᵏᵉᵈ ʸᵒᵘˑˑ" ˢᵃᶰᵈʸ ˢᵃʸˢˑ "ᴮᵘᵗ˒ ʷʰʸˀ"
"ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵗʳʸ ʰᶤˢ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒᶰᵃˡ ᵖʰᵒᶰᵉ ᶰᵘᵐᵇᵉʳˑˑ" ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ
ᵈᶤᵃˡˢˑ ᴹʳˑ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢᵗᵒᵖˢ
ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ʰᵉ ʰᵉᵃʳˢ ᵃᶰᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵖʰᵒᶰᵉ ʳᶤᶰᵍᶤᶰᵍˑ
ᴹʳˑ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʰᵉᵃʳˢ ᶤᵗ ᶰᵉᵃʳ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ'ˢ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ˢᵒ
ʰᵉ ˢᶰᵃᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ ᶤᵗ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᶤʳˑ
ᴵᶰ ᵃ ᵖᵃᶰᶤᶜ˒ ᴹʳˑ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢʰᵘᵗ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ'ˢ
ᵖʰᵒᶰᵉ ᵒᶠᶠ˒ ᶰᵒᵗ ʷᵃᶰᵗᶤᶰᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᶜᵃᵘᵍʰᵗˑ
ᵂʰᵉᶰᶜᵉ ʰᵉᵃʳᶤᶰᵍ ˢᶰᵒʳᶤᶰᵍ ᵃᵍᵃᶤᶰ ᵈᶤᵈ ᴹʳˑ
ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗᵘʳᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʰᵒᶰᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵒᶰ ᶤᶰ
ᵒʳᵈᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ᶜʰᵃᶰᵍᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ'ˢ ᶜᵒᶰᵗᵃᶜᵗˑ
ˢʷᶤᵗᶜʰᶤᶰᵍ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ'ˢ ᶰᵘᵐᵇᵉʳ ᵇʸ ʳᵉᵖˡᵃᶜᶤᶰᵍ ʰᵉʳ
ᶰᵃᵐᵉ ᶤᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʰᵒᶰᵉ ᵇʸ ᵖᵘᵗᵗᶤᶰᵍ ʰᶤˢ˒ ʰᵉ ᵃˡˢᵒ 
ᵖᵘᵗ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵘᶰᵈᵉʳ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ'ˢ ᵘˢᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉˑ
ᴾᵘᵗᵗᶤᶰᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʰᵒᶰᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶠᵒᵘᶰᵈ ᶤᵗ
ᴹʳˑ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗʰᵉᶰ ˡᵉᶠᵗˑ ᵁᶰᶠᵒʳᵗᵘᶰᵃᵗᵉˡʸ ˢʰᵉ
ᵒᶰˡʸ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ ʰᶤˢ ˢᵃᶤᵈ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒᶰᵃˡ ᵖʰᵒᶰᵉ
ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᴹʳˑ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᶜʰᵃᶰᵍᵉᵈ ᶤᵗˑ "ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᶤᵗ'ˢ
ᵉᵃʳˡʸ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵖᵉʳʰᵃᵖˢ ᵗʳʸ ᵃᶰᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵗᶤᵐᵉˑ"
"ᵞᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ʳᶤᵍʰᵗ ˢᵃᶰᵈʸˑˑ" ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵃᵍʳᵉᵉᵈˑ ᴵᶰ ᵗʰᵉ
ᶰᵉˣᵗ ᵐᵒʳᶰᶤᶰᵍ˒ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ'ᵈ
ᵖʳᵒᵐᶤˢᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰˑ ᴹʳˑ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵃˡˢᵒ ˡᵉᵗ ᶠʳʸ
ᶜᵒᵒᵏ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ᵈᵃʸ ᵒᶠᶠ˒ ᵏᶰᵒʷᶤᶰᵍ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᶰᵉᵛᵉʳ
ᵃᵖᵖʳᵒᵛᵉ ᵒᶠ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᴹʳˑ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵖˡᵃᶰᶰᵉᵈˑˑ
"ᴴᵉ'ᵈ ᵇᵉ ᵘᵖ ᵇʸ ᶰᵒʷ˒ ˢᵒ ᴵ'ˡˡ ᶜᵃˡˡ ʰᶤˢ ᵖʰᵒᶰᵉ ᶰᵒʷˑˑ"
ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵈᶤᵃˡˢ ʰᶤˢ ᶰᵘᵐᵇᵉʳˑ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃᶰᵈ
ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʰᵒᶰᵉ ʳᶤᶰᵍˑ "ᴷʳᵃᵇˢˀ"
ᴺᵒᵗ ᵃˢˢᵘᵐᶤᶰᵍ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ'ˢ ᵒᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᶤᶰᵉ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᶤˢ ʳᶤᵛᵃˡ
ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵖᶤᶜᵏˢ ᶤᵗ ᵘᵖˑ ᴮᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ˢᵃʸˢ ᵃᶰʸ
ᵗʰᶤᶰᵍ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ʸᵉˡˡˢ ᶤᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʰᵒᶰᵉˑ "ᴵ ᵈᵒᶰ'ᵗ ᵏᶰᵒʷ
ʷʰʸ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᶜᵃˡˡᶤᶰᵍ ᵐᵉ˒ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵈᵒᶰ'ᵗ ʷᵃᶰᶰᵃ ʰᵉᵃʳ
ʷʰᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵃʸᵎ ᴵ ʷᶤˢʰ ᴵ'ᵈ ᶰᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵐᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘᵎ"
ᴴᵃᶰᵍᶤᶰᵍ ᵘᵖ˒ ʰᵉ ᵖᵘᵗ ʰᶤˢ ᵖʰᵒᶰᵉ ᵈᵒʷᶰ ᵗʰᶤᶰᵏᶤᶰᵍ ᴹʳˑ
ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ ʰᶤᵐˑ ᴮᵘᵗ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʷ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʰᵒᶰᵉ
ᶰᵘᵐᵇᵉʳ ᵃᶰᵈ ʳᵉᵃˡᶤˢᵉᵈ ᶤᵗ'ˢ ʷʳᵒᶰᵍˑ ᴴᵉ'ˢ ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳᶤˢᵉᵈ
ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ'ˢ ᵖʰᵒᶰᵉ ᶰᵘᵐᵇᵉʳ ˡᶤᶰᵉ˒ ᵃᶰᵈ ʰᵉ ᵏᶰᵉʷ
ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᶰᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵖᵃʸ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ᶰᵉʷ ˡᶤᶰᵉˑ "ᑦᵃᶰ ᴵ ˢᵉᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵖʰᵒᶰᵉˀ"
"ᵂʰʸ˒ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇˀ" "ˢᵉᵃʳᶜʰ ᶠᵒʳ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ'ˢ ᶰᵃᵐᵉˑ"
"ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵉ ᵏᶰᵒʷ ˢʰᵉ'ˢ ᵍᵒᶰᵉ ᵃᶰᵈ ᴵˑˑˑ" "ᴵ ᶰᵉᵉᵈ
ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ˡᶤˢᵗᵉᵈˑ ᴵ ᵏᶰᵒʷ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ ᵖʰᵒᶰᵉ
ᶰᵘᵐᵇᵉʳ ᵃᶰᵈ ᶤᵗ'ˢ ᶰᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᶰᵉ ʷʰᶤᶜʰ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ ʸᵒᵘˑˑ"
"ᴵ ᵈᵒᶰ'ᵗˑˑˑ" "ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵈᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏᶰᵒʷ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ'ˢ ᵖʰᵒᶰᵉ
ᶰᵘᵐᵇᵉʳ ˢᵉᵠᵘᵉᶰᶜᵉˀ" "ᵂʰʸ ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵗᵃᵖ ᵃ ᵇᵘᵗᵗᵒᶰ ᵃᶰᵈ
ᶤᵗ ᶜᵃˡˡˢ ʰᵉʳ; ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ᶰᵒˑˑˑ" "ᴵ ʷᵃᶰᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᶰᵘᵐᵇᵉʳ
ˡᶤˢᵗᵉᵈ ᶤᶠ ᶤᵗ ᵐᵃᵗᶜʰᵉˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇˑˑ" ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ
ˢᶤᵍʰˢ˒ ᵍᶤᵛᶤᶰᵍ ʰᶤᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʰᵒᶰᵉˑ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵃˢᵖᵉᵈˑ
"ᵂʰᵃᵗˀ" ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵖᵘˡˡᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ʰᶤˢ ᵖʰᵒᶰᵉ ᵃᶰᵈ
ˢᵉᵃʳᶜʰᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᶰᵘᵐᵇᵉʳ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ ᶰᵒʷˑ
"ᴵᵈᵉᶰᵗᶤᶜᵃˡˑ ᴸᵒᵒᵏ ᵃᶰᵈ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵃʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᶰᵘᵐᵇᵉʳˢ ᵒᶰ
ᵒᵘʳ ᵖʰᵒᶰᵉˢᵎ" "ᵂʰʸ˒ ᵗʰᵉʸˑˑˑ" "ᴵ ᶜᵃᶰ ʳᵉᵖᵉᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ
ᶰᵘᵐᵇᵉʳ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘˑˑ" ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉᵈ ʰᶤˢ
ᵉʸᵉˢ ᵃᶰᵈ ˢᵃʸˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᶰᵘᵐᵇᵉʳ ᵉˣᵃᶜᵗˡʸ ʷʰᶤˡˢᵗ
ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ʳᵉᵃᵈˢ ᶤᵗ ᵃˡᵒᶰᵍˑ "ᑦᵃˡˡ 'ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ' ᵃᵍᵃᶤᶰˑ"
"ᴴᵘʰˀ" "ᴵ'ˡˡ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵗᵉˣᵗ˒ ˡᵉᵗ ᵐᵉ ˢᵉᵉˑˑˑ" ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ
ˢᵃʸˢ˒ ᵍᵉᵗᵗᶤᶰᵍ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ'ˢ ᵖʰᵒᶰᵉˑ "ᵂʰᵃᵗ ᵃʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘˑˑˑ"
'ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵈᵃʳˡᶤᶰᵍ˒ ᴵ ᵏᶰᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᶤˡˡ ᶰᵒᵗ ᶜᵃˡˡ ᵐᵉ ᵇᵘᵗ
ᴵ ʷᵃᶰᶰᵃ ᵏᵉᵉᵖ ᵗᵉˣᵗᶤᶰᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᴵ ᵈᵒ ᶰᵒᵗ
ᶰᵉᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵃᶰᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵏᵉᵉᵖ ᵃˢᵏᶤᶰᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ᵐᵒᶰᵉʸˑ ˢᵒ
ᶰᵒʷ˒ ᶤᶠ ᵃᶰᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒᶰ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʰᵒᶰᵉ ᶰᵒʷ
ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ ᵇʳᶤᶰᵍ ᶤᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵃᶰᵈ ᴵ ʷᶤˡˡ
ᵖᵃʸ ʸᵒᵘ ᵐᵒᶰᵉʸ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ᵇᵉˡᵒᶰᵍᶤᶰᵍ ᵒᶠ ᵐʸ ᵇᵒᵒ
ᵇᵉᵃʳ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉˑ' ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗʸᵖᵉᵈ ᵃᶰᵈ ˢᵉᶰᵗˑ
'ᴴᵒʷ ᵐᵘᶜʰˀ' 'ᴬˡˡ ᵒᶠ ᶤᵗ; ᵃˡˡ ᵐʸ ᵐᵒᶰᵉʸᵎ ᑦᵒᵐᵉ
ᵃˡᵒᶰᵉˑ' ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵉᵖˡᶤᵉᵈ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃᶰᵈ ˢᵉᶰᵗˑ
"ᴹʳˑ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᶜᵃᶰᶰᵒᵗ ʳᵉˢᶤˢᵗ ᵐᵒᶰᵉʸ˒ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏᶰᵒʷˑ"
"ᴵᶠ ᴹʳˑ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵉˢ ᶤᵗ ᵖʳᵒᵛᵉˢ ʰᵉ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᵐʸ ᵖʰᵒᶰᵉᵎ"
"ᴵ ᶠᵒᵘᶰᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʰᵒᶰᵉ; ᵍᶤᵛᵉ ᵐᵉ ᵐᵒᶰᵉʸᵎ" "ᴱᵘᵍᵉᶰᵉ
ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ; ʷʰʸ ᵈᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵐʸ ʷᶤᶠᵉ'ˢ ᵖʰᵒᶰᵉˀ"
ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᶠᵃᶜᵉᵈ ʰᶤᵐ ᶰᵒʷˑ "ᴴᵉʳ ʳᵉᵐᵃᶤᶰˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᶤᶰ
ᵐʸ ˡᵃᵇ˒ ᵃᶰᵈ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ʰᵉʳ ᵖʰᵒᶰᵉˑ ᴺᵒʷ ᴵ'ˡˡ ˢᵉᵉ ᶤᶠ
ᴵ ᶜᵃᶰ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵐᵒᶰᵉʸ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵃʳᵉ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ
ᵗᵃˡᵏᶤᶰᵍ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵗᵉˡˡᶤᶰᵍ ᵐᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗˑˑˑ" ˢᵃᶰᵈʸ ᵃᶰᵈ
ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ˢᵘᵈᵈᵉᶰˡʸ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳˑ
"ˢʰᵉˡᵈᵒᶰ ᴵ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᴵ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ʸᵒᵘ
ˢᵃʸ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵈᵉᶜᶤᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵐʸ ˢᵗᵘᶠᶠ ˢᵒ ᴵ ᶜᵃᶰ
ˡᶤᵛᵉ ʷᶤᵗʰ ˢᵃᶰᵈʸˑ" "ᴮᵘᵗ ᶠᶤʳˢᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᶰᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵃʸ
ᵃᶰ ᵃᵖᵒˡᵒᵍʸ ᵗᵒ ᵐʸ ᵍᵃˡ ᵖᵃˡᵎ" ˢᵃᶰᵈʸ ᶤᶰᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗˢ
ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ'ˢ ᵈᵉᵛᵃˢᵗᵃᵗᶤᶰᵍˡʸ ˢᵃᵈ ᵛᵒᶤᶜᵉˑ "ᵂᵉ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ
ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵉᵃʳˡʸˑˑˑ" ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ'ˢ ᵘᶰᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉᵃʳ ᵗʰᵉ
ʳᵉˢᵗ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶜʳʸˑ "ᴹʳˑ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ
ᵗᵉˡˡ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇʳᵒᵏᵉᶰ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳˑˑ"
ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʸˢ˒ ᵍᵉᵗᵗᶤᶰᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒᵈᵉˡˑ "ᴰᵒᶰ'ᵗ ᵍᵉᵗ
ᵗᵒ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗᵃᵇˡᵉ ᴱᵘᵍᵉᶰᵉ; ʸᵒᵘ ᵖᵘᵗ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ'ˢ ᶰᵃᵐᵉ
ᵘᶰᵈᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶰᵘᵐᵇᵉʳᵎ ˢᵒ ᵈᶤᵈ ʸᵒᵘ˒ ᵒʳ ᵈᶤᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᶰᵒᵗ˒
ᶠᵃᵏᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ'ˢ ᵈᵉᵃᵗʰˑˑˑ" ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵈᵉᵐᵃᶰᵈᵉᵈˑ
ᴹʳˑ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʳᵉᵃˡᶤˢᵉᵈ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᶜᵃᵘᵍʰᵗˑ "ᴼʰ ᵃᶰᵈ
ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉᶜᵒʳᵈ˒ ᴵ ᵠᵘᶤᵗᵎ" ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʸˢˑ
ᴬˡˡ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ʳᵉᵃˡᶤˢᵉᵈ ʷʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉᶰᶤᶰᵍˑ "ᴵ'ᵐ
ˢᵒʳʳʸˑˑ" ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵃᶰᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ˢᵃʸ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ
ˢᵃᵐᵉ ᵗᶤᵐᵉ˒ ᶰᵒʷ ᵉᵐᵇʳᵃᶜᶤᶰᵍˑ ⚖︎ 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 𝟷,𝟹𝟾𝟼

new Karen (SpongeBob) karen/sandy Wordcount: Over 1.000 wordcount: 1.000-3.000 wordcount: 1.000-5.000 over 1000 words Phone Calls & Telephones Chatting & Messaging karen on vacation

🖌 X 💡 lightbulb x painty!!

new lightbulb paintbulb painty ii OBJECTSHOW

ᵀᵒ ᴴⁱᵗ ᵀʰᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏ
⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾
"ᴰᵉˢᵖⁱᵗᵉ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵘⁿᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢ ʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʷⁱᵗᶜʰ
ˢᵒ ʷᵉ ⁱⁿᵈᵘᶜᵉᵈ ᵃ ᶜᵒᵐᵃᵗᵒˢᵉ/ᵘⁿʳᵉˢᵖᵒⁿˢⁱᵛᵉ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵉ‧"
ᴰᵘʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ⸴ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʰⁱᵗˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷⁱᵗʰ
ᵃ ᵇᵒᵃʳᵈ ˢᵒ⸴ ʰⁱˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁿᵒʷ
ʰᵉˡᵈ ʰⁱˢ ˡⁱᵐᵖ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ⁱⁿ ʰᵉʳˢ‧ "ᴼⁿˡʸ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ
ᵗᵒ ʰᵉᵃˡ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵉ ᵐᵒⁿⁱᵗᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁿᵒᵈˢ‧
"ᴴⁱˢ ᵇᵒᵈʸ'ˢ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉˢᵗ ˢᵒ ᵐᵉᵈⁱᶜⁱⁿᵉ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉˡᵖ
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒᵗ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ‧ ʸᵒᵘ
ᶜᵃⁿ⸴ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ ˡⁱᵏᵉ⸴ ˢᵗᵃʸ ᵖᵃˢᵗ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵒᵘʳˢ
ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵐᵃʳʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵃ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘ—
ʷᵉˡˡ ⁿᵒ ᵒᶠᶠᵉⁿᶜᵉ‧‧" "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏˢ‧"
ᴱᵛᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ʰᵉ'ˢ ˢᵉᵈᵃᵗᵉᵈ/ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ⸴ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ
ʷⁱˢʰᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵗ ᵇᵉᵈ‧
"ᴵ'ᵐ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᵇʸ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˢⁱᵈᵉ‧‧"
ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ ᵇʳᵃᵍᵍᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ᵉᵐᵖˡᵒʸᵉᵉˢ
ˢᵒ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃʸ ᵒᶠᶠ ʷᵒʳᵏ⸴ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ
ᵛⁱˢⁱᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ⁿᵒʷ 
ᶜᵒᵐᵃᵗᵒˢᵉ/ᵘⁿʳᵉˢᵖᵒⁿˢⁱᵛᵉ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃᵗ ᵈᵒʷⁿ‧
"ᴴⁱ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ! ᴵ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵇʳⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿʸ
ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ‧‧" ᔆᵃʸˢ
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ⸴ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ˢᵃᵈ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ
ᵏⁿᵒʷ⸴ ᴵ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃʸ ᵒᶠᶠ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ‧"
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵖᵃᵗˢ ʰⁱˢ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈᵉʳ‧ "ᔆᵒ ʷʰᵉⁿ
ᵉᵛᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ⸴ ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵍˡᵃᵈˡʸ ˢᵖᵉⁿᵈ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ
ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᶠᵘⁿ‧ ᴿᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵘⁿ
ˢᵒⁿᵍ ʷᵉ'ᵈ ˢⁱⁿᵍ?" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢⁱⁿᵍˢ ⁱᵗ ⁿᵒʷ‧
"ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵃⁱᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃᵗᵗᵉᵐᵖᵗ
ˢᵗᵉᵃˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵘʳ ˢᵉᶜʳᵉᵗ ˡⁱˢᵗ ᵒᶠ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ
ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ; ʸᵒᵘʳ ⁱⁿᵛᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵃʳᵉ
ᶜˡᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵃˢ ʷᵉˡˡ ᵃˢ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶜʳᵉᵃᵗⁱᵛᵉ ˢᶜʰᵉᵐᵉˢ!"
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵉᵉˢ ᵃ ˢᶜⁱᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᵐᵃᵍᵃᶻⁱⁿᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ
ʳᵉᵃᵈˢ ⁱᵗ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ "ᵂᵉˡˡ ᴵ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᶠᵉᵉᵈ ᴳᵃʳʸ
ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵗ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ‧ ᴹⁱˢˢ ʸᵒᵘ!" ᴴᵉ ˡᵉᶠᵗ‧
ᵀʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃˡᵗ
ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵉᵈᵃᵗⁱᵛᵉ/ᵃⁿᵃᵉˢᵗʰᵉˢⁱᵃ ˢᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ
ᶜᵃⁿ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ
ᶜᵃᵐᵉ⸴ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ
ᵒᶠ ⁱᵗ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‽" ᴴᵉ ˢᵃⁱᵈ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜⁱⁿᵍ ⁿᵒʷ‧
ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ˢᵃᵗ ᵇʸ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ‧ ᴴⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ
ᵇʳᵒʷ ᶠᵘʳʳᵒʷˢ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗˡʸ ˢᑫᵘᵉᵉᶻᵉᵈ
ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ᵍᵉⁿᵗˡʸ‧ "ᴴᵉʸ⸴ ˢʷᵉᵉᵗˢ; ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ‧‧"
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰᵉᵃʳˢ ʰᵉʳ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʷᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ
ᵘᵖ ⁿᵒʷ‧" ᴴᵉ ᵒᵖᵉⁿˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜⁱⁿᵍ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ
ʰᵒˡᵈⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ‧ "ʸᵃʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ ⁿᵒʷ!"
"ᵂᵉ'ʳᵉ ᵃᵗ ᴮⁱᵏⁱⁿⁱ ᴮᵒᵗᵗᵒᵐ ʰᵒˢᵖⁱᵗᵃˡ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵐʸ ᵇᵒˢˢ
ʰⁱᵗ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵉᵃˢʸ!" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ
ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗˢ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ⁿᵘʳˢᵉ'ˢ ˡᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵍᵒ ⁿᵒʷ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ
ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ⁿᵒʳᵐᵃˡ‧ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟑𝟒𝟖 

new healing and caring Karen & SpongeBob SquarePants SpongeBob SquarePants (character) Karen (SpongeBob) SpongeBob SquarePants References Family & Friends post awakening comacore unconsciouscore planktonkin plankarenbob to hit the plank

CHIP AND FAIL ii
(Autistic author)

"And then there's my roommate,
Jake," Chip went on as he nudged
Plankton.

Plankton felt the nudge like a
sledgehammer, the vibration
reverberating through his bones, his
body visibly taut.

"He's got a pet 
named Steve," Chip said,
laughing, "and he taught me
how to play the guitar!"

Plankton's eye grew larger, his
heart racing as the room
spun around him. He felt like
his mind was being invaded by a
swarm of jellyfish, buzzing with every
word, every touch. But Chip was in his
element, his words tumbling out.

"And we had a food fight!" 
Chip said, slapping
his hand down on the bed, sending
waves of pain through Plankton's
overstimulated nervous system. He
swallowed a cry, his hands
gripping the sheets. "It was like
a battle royale with spaghetti!"

Chip's laughter filled the room,
but Plankton couldn't find it in
himself to laugh. The noise, the
motion, the smells - it was all
too much. His mind was racing,
trying to keep up but he was losing the
battle. He needed silence,
darkness, a chance to reset.
But Chip was still talking,
still touching, still demanding
his attention. He felt
trapped.

"And then, get this, Dad," Chip
said, slapping his knee with
each new anecdote. "There's
this professor..."

Plankton knew he needed to tell Chip to
slow down, to give him space, but
more Chip talked, the less he could
comprehend. His mind was a
whirlwind of sensory input,
spinning out of control. Chip, not noticing, was
still grinning, his screen sparkling
with joy, voice rising with excitement.

But Plankton was no longer
listening. His eye had glazed
over, his mind a tangled web
of sensory overload. He
couldn't even hear Chip anymore.

Chip, noticing the lack of
response, paused.
"Dad?" he said, his voice
softening with concern as he
poked him with his finger, adding
to the cacophony of sensory
input that engulfed and drowned
Plankton. 

Chip, puzzled by his dad's lack of
response, leaned in closer, his
face a picture of innocent
curiosity. "Isn't that amazing,
Dad?" He asked, placing his hand
on Plankton's arm again.

The room was spinning, the
sounds of Chip's voice and the
memory of his stories a cacophony,
his chest tight.

"Dad?" Chip's voice grew
quiet, his smile slipping away as he
noticed his father's distress.
He had never seen Plankton like
this before, so still..
"Are you okay?" He asked,
genuinely concerned. But his
question was like another
explosion of light and sound to
Plankton. But Chip, in his excitement,
misinterpreted. He leaned in even closer,
his hand landing gently on Plankton's
shoulder. Plankton's body
constricted, unblinking. The pressure
of Chip's hand was a heavy
weight, and the softness of his
voice was a scream in Plankton's
overwhelmed ears. He couldn't
speak, couldn't move..

Chip's eyes grew wide with
concern as he watched his dad.
He had never seen Plankton
like this, so silent and unresponsive.
Was he ok? Did he say something
wrong? The doubt grew in his chest.

"Dad?" He ventured again, his voice
smaller than it had been. Plankton's
body was a statue, his eye fixed
somewhere beyond the room.
Chip's hand hovered over his arm,
uncertain of what to do.

"Dad, are you okay?" He asked,
his voice trembling. He had
never seen his dad so
silent.

Plankton's body is
rigid and unyielding.

He can't understand
why his dad isn't responding,
why he isn't laughing at the
funny stories or asking questions
about his college life.

"Dad?" Chip says again, his voice
more tentative now. He reaches out to
shake Plankton's shoulder. Something's 
wrong, he can feel it. He didn't know
Plankton has reached a
breaking point, and his mind
shuts down in self-defense. He
can't process anything, not even
the love in Chip's voice.

"What's wrong with you!" Chip
asks, his eyes wide with confusion
and hurt. He had only wanted
to share his excitement, to
connect with his dad after being
away for a week. But Plankton's
reaction was like nothing he had
ever seen before. Plankton's unable to
decipher Chip's words or the
concern etched into his features.

Chip's scanning Plankton's
expression for some clue, some
sign of what was happening.

"Dad, talk to me," Chip pleads,
his hand resting on frozen Plankton's
shoulder. Nothing. He's expressionless.

Panic starts to bloom in Chip.

"Dad, say something!" He begs, his
hands shaking. Plankton remains
motionless, his eye unfocused.
Chip's mind races, trying to
understand, trying to piece together
what he could've done wrong.
The silence stretches between them,
taut as a bowstring. Plankton's face
remains an unreadable mask.

Chip's thoughts tumble over one
another, trying to remember
anything that could've triggered this.
He knew his dad was a bit of an introvert,
needy of his space, but this was
beyond that. The room felt
claustrophobic, the air thick with
unspoken words.

"Dad, you're scaring me," he whispers,
his voice cracking. "What's going on?"
Plankton's trapped in
his own body, a prison of
sensory overload.

The room seems to spin faster,
the colors bleeding into one another.
He can't find the words to explain.
He wishes he could tell Chip to stop,
to back away, but his tongue is a
dead weight in his mouth. But Chip,
his mind racing with worry,
doesn't understand. He's never
seen his dad like this before.

"Dad?" He says again, his voice
shaking with fear. "You're not
moving." 

In a moment of desperation,
Chip grabs Plankton's hand, trying
to shake him out of his trance.
"Please, Dad, talk to me," he
whispers, his grip tight. But
Plankton's hand is cold and stiff,
like holding onto a mannequin's. Chip's
face falls, his eyes filling
with tears. "What's wrong, Dad?"
He sobs, his voice thick with fear.

Plankton feels the warmth of Chip's
hand, the pressure of his grip,
but he's trapped in a world of
sensory overload, unable to
move or speak. His heart aches
with the pain of his son's distress,
but his body won't cooperate. He
desperately tries to break through
the fog, to tell Chip he's okay,
that he loves him. But even his
consciousness is frozen now.

Chip's sobs grew louder, his
shoulders shaking with each
breath. "Please, Dad, please," he
whimpers, his eyes brimming with
tears. The weight of his
father's unresponsive hand in his
own was like a stone, dragging him
down into a pit of fear.

He didn't know his dad was
autistic, didn't know the silent
torture he was enduring.
Plankton's heart was a caged bird,
flapping its wings against the
walls of his overwhelmed mind.
He wished he could tell Chip that
he was okay, that he loved him, but
his thoughts were a tangled web,
catching and trapping every
sensation until he couldn't move.

Chip's grip tightened, his voice
desperate. "Dad, please," he
sobbed.

But Plankton remained unresponsive,
his mind a hurricane of stimuli.
The weight of Chip's hand on
his shoulder was unbearable,
each touch a bolt of lightning
striking his already fried nervous
system. The room was spinning,
the colors blurring into a
swirl of chaos.

Chip's voice grew louder, more
insistent, his touches more
frequent as he tried to pull
his dad out of his silent world,
his grip on Plankton's arm tightening.
But Plankton's body was a statue.

"Dad, please, say something," Chip
whispered, his voice choked with
sobs. Chip's face crumpled as he 
concluded his dad wasn't okay. He never
saw him like this, so silent and
still. But the more Chip talked,
the more he touched, the deeper
Plankton sank into his overloaded
state. Plankton's body remained still.
He didn't understand why his
dad was so unresponsive. His
heart felt like it was shattering
into a million pieces.

Chip leaned in closer, his eyes
searching Plankton's for some
glimmer of recognition, some sign
that he was okay, desperate for any
sign of life.

"Dad, you're scaring me," he choked
out, his grip on Plankton's hand
becoming frantic. Plankton's heart
was racing, but his body remained
still as a statue, the storm inside
his mind unseen by his son.

"Please, Dad, talk to me," Chip
pleaded, tears rolling down his
cheeks. In his panic, Chip didn't realize
his touches were only adding to
Plankton's distress. His face crumpled as he 
realizes his dad, so still and unresponsive,
is not okay.

The room grew smaller, the air
thicker with Chip's sobs. "Dad,
please," he whispered, his voice
shaking. He didn't know how to
help, didn't know what was happening.
All he knew was that the man he
loved was slipping away from him,
and he was powerless to stop it.

Plankton's mind was a tornado of
sensation, each touch, each sound
a knife slicing through the
fragile silence he needed to survive.
He wished he could tell Chip to
just give him a minute, to let him
find his calm. But the words were
stuck in his throat, his mind a
whirlwind of panic and confusion.

Chip, unable to understand the
storm happening inside his dad,
felt a sinking dread. He had
never seen Plankton like this, and
his inability to connect with
his father was like a punch to
his gut. He tried to lighten the
mood, to pull him out of his
silent cocoon with a joke. "Remember
when I accidentally turned your
laboratory blue with that chemistry
experiment?" he asked, his voice
shaking slightly. But it's not working.

Plankton remained unmoving,
his expression unchanged, lost in
his own world of sensory overload.
The silence was deafening, a stark
contrast to the tumult in his mind.
Chip's words were just more noise,
more chaos to process.

Chip's eyes searched his dad's
face, desperation etched into every
line of his youthful features.
He didn't know about Plankton's
autism, about the need for quiet
and predictability to navigate the
world. He only knew that his
dad wasn't responding, and it
was tearing him apart.

He took a deep breath, trying to
think of what to do. The silence
was suffocating, pressing down on
them like a heavy blanket. Then,
suddenly, he had an idea.

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

A JOURNEY TO AUTISM viii

(Autistic author)


Plankton's antennas 
lift slightly. "Game," he 
whispers, his voice 
shaking. "Just game."

Mr. Krabs' eyes narrow, 
his claws tense. "If it's 
just a game, then why 
are you acting so 
strange?" he snaps at
Plankton.

Plankton's antennas 
wobble with effort 
to maintain control.

"Because," he starts, his 
voice shaky, "Plankton... 
different."

Mr. Krabs stares at 
Sponge Bob, his 
expression unyielding. 
"Different?" he echoes, 
his eyes darting to 
Plankton, then back to 
his employee.

Sponge Bob nods, his 
voice trembling. "Yes, 
Mr. Krabs, Plankton's 
been through something 
that's changed him."
He looks at Karen for 
support, but she stays 
silent, her eyes 
reflecting a mix of 
concern and hope.

Mr. Krabs crosses his 
arms, his eyebrow 
quivering with skepticism. 
"What do you mean, 
changed him?" he asks.
"Is he trying to steal 
the Krabby Patty formular 
again?"

Sponge Bob's 
frustration rises. "No, 
Mr. Krabs," he says, 
his voice steady. "It's 
not like that. Plankton 
has... a condition."

Mr. Krabs' 
skepticism turns to 
curiosity. "Condition?" 
he repeats, his voice 
softer.

Sponge Bob nods, 
swallowing the lump 
in his throat. "He's 
been diagnosed with acquired
autism," he explains, 
his voice barely above 
a whisper.

Mr. Krabs' eyes widen, 
his mouth dropping open
as the words sink in.
He turns to Karen, his gaze 
demanding confirmation.
"Is it true?" he asks, 
his voice gruff.

Karen nods solemnly, 
her circuits flickering 
with a mix of 
sadness and hope.
"Yes," she says gently. 
"Plankton has 
an acquired 
form of autism."

Mr. Krabs' expression 
shifts from skepticism 
to shock. He looks 
at Plankton. 
"Autism?" he repeats, 
his voice barely above 
a murmur. "But... but 
how?"

Karen's LED lights 
dim slightly. "I don't
think he'd like to answer
that question" she says, 
her voice clinical. "It's 
caused a significant 
shift in his neural 
functioning."

Mr. Krabs' gaze 
remains on Plankton, 
his expression one 
of dawning 
understanding. "Was 
me fry pan..." he starts, 
his voice trailing off.

Plankton's antennas 
drop, and he 
nods slowly. "Yes," he 
whispers. "Krabs pan."

Mr. Krabs' face 
crumbles, his 
claws clenching into 
fists. "I didn't mean to," 
he stammers, his voice 
choking with regret. "I 
was just trying to keep 
me formular safe."

Plankton's antennas 
twitch, his single eye 
welling with unshed 
tears.

Mr. Krabs' guilt is 
palpable, his eyes 
swimming with 
remorse. "I'm sorry, 
Plankton," he says 
hoarsely. "I had no idea."

But Plankton's gaze 
doesn't soften. His 
stare is unyielding, 
his voice cold.

"Sorry not enough," he says, 
his words clipped. 
"Hurt, Mr. Krabs 
hurt Plankton bad."

Mr. Krabs' heart squeezes 
at the accusation in 
Plankton's voice. He's 
never heard him speak 
like this before, with such 
raw emotion.

"I know," he says 
remorsefully, his 
voice cracking. "I know 
I hurt you, Plankton. I'm 
so, so sorry."

But Plankton's 
unforgiving gaze 
doesn't waver. "No," 
he insists, his voice 
still cold. "Not just sorry.
Mr. Krabs must understand."

Mr. Krabs nods, 
his eyes brimming with 
tears. "I do," he 
chokes out. "I understand.
What can I do to help?"

Plankton's antennas 
still don't move, his 
expression unreadable.

Mr. Krabs' reaches for
Plankton's shoulder.
That's the last straw.
With a burst of 
energy, Plankton 
pushes away the 
clawed hand. "No 
touch," he snaps, his 
voice cold. "Mr. Krabs 
not understand." His 
words are like shards of 
ice, each one cutting 
deeper into Mr. Krabs' 
guilt.

Mr. Krabs' face falls, 
his hand retreating 
quickly. "But I do," 
he insists, his voice 
desperate. "I swear, 
Plankton, I do."

But Plankton's 
expression remains 
stony, his antennas 
rigid. "No," he says 
simply. "Krabs don't." His 
voice is a knife, slicing 
through the tension 
in the room.

Mr. Krabs' eyes 
water, his heart 
heavy with regret. "I 
swear, Plankton," he 
pleads. "I'll do anything 
to make it right."

But Plankton's 
gaze remains 
steady, his 
unforgiving gaze 
bearing into Mr. 
Krabs' soul. "Make right?"
he echoes. "Cannot make 
right. Cannot change. Krabs
fault."

Mr. Krabs' shoulders 
sag with the weight 
of Plankton's words. 
He knows his rival is 
right; he can't reverse 
what's been done, 
no matter how much he 
wishes it. "But I want 
to help," he says 
desperately. "Please, tell 
me how..."

But Plankton's 
expression is a 
mask of coldness, 
his antennas unyielding. 
"Help?" he echoes, his 
voice dripping with 
skepticism. "Krabs 
can't help." His gaze 
slides to the 
discarded chessboard, 
his eyes lingering 
on the scattered 
pieces. "Too late."

Mr. Krabs' shoulders 
sag with the weight 
of Plankton's rejection. 
"Please," he says 
desperately. "I didn't 
know. I just want to 
make it better."

But Plankton's 
unforgiving gaze 
doesn't falter. His 
stare is a mirror 
reflecting Mr. Krabs' 
own guilt and regret. 
"Better?" he repeats, 
his voice devoid of 
emotion. "Cannot be.
No cure. Just stop."

Mr. Krabs' eyes 
well with tears, his 
heart aching with 
the pain of his 
mistake. "But I want 
to fix it," he says 
pleadingly. "I want to 
make it right."

But Plankton's gaze 
doesn't soften. "No fix," 
he says flatly. "Cannot 
change what is." His 
single eye seems to 
bore into Mr. Krabs, 
his voice unyielding.
"Krabs hurt Plankton. 
Krabs must live with."

Mr. Krabs hangs 
his head, his 
shoulders heaving with 
sobs. "I'm sorry," he 
whispers, his voice 
breaking. "I'll do anything."

But Plankton 
simply shakes his 
head, his antennas 
still. "Cannot change," 
he murmurs. "Must live 
with." His eye are 
empty, devoid of the 
malicious spark that 
once fueled his quest 
for the Krabby Patty 
formula. Normally
Plankton would love to 
cause such a reaction
out of Mr. Krabs.

Mr. Krabs' 
sobs grow louder, his 
guilt consuming him. 
"But I didn't mean 
to," he wails. "It was 
just a mistake."

Plankton's antennas 
twitch slightly. "Mistake," 
he echoes, his voice 
still cold. "Mistake 
not enough." His eye 
are unrelenting, his 
stare piercing through 
Mr. Krabs' soul. "You hurt 
me," he says, his 
words a quiet thunder 
clap in the tense silence. 
"Mistake changed me."

Mr. Krabs looks up, 
his eyes red with tears. 
"I know," he says, his 
voice thick with regret. "I 
know I hurt you, Plankton. 
Yet I didn't know how bad..."

But Plankton's 
expression is one of 
resentment, his antennas 
twitching with anger. 
"Hurt," he says, his 
voice cold. "Krabs hurt 
Plankton. Krabs must 
understand." His gaze 
doesn't waver from Mr. 
Krabs, his accusation 
hangs in the air like a 
heavy fog.

Mr. Krabs' sobs 
quiet, his eyes 
swimming with regret. 
He opens his mouth to 
speak, but the words 
catch in his throat. 
"I do underst--"

"No," Plankton 
interrupts, his 
voice like a whip. "You 
don't." His antennas 
wave with agitation, 
his eye flashing with 
a cold fire. "You don't 
understand pain." His 
words are sharp, 
cutting through Mr. 
Krabs' protests.

Mr. Krabs' 
expression falls, his 
claws trembling. "I 
see that now," he 
whispers, his voice 
racked with emotion. "But 
what can I do?" His 
desperation is clear, 
his eyes searching Plankton's 
face for any sign of 
forgiveness. "I'd even give
you a krabby patty.."

But Plankton's 
expression doesn't 
change. His antennas 
remain rigid, his eye 
still cold. "Krabby 
Patty not fix," he says 
simply. "Cannot fix 
brain." His voice is 
matter-of-fact, his 
tone unyielding.

Mr. Krabs' eyes 
widen, his hope 
dashed. "But I'll do 
anything," he insists, 
his voice desperate.

But Plankton's 
unforgiving gaze 
remains unmoved. 
"Anything?" he repeats, 
his tone mocking. "Can 
you give me back my 
mind?" His antennas 
wave in frustration.
"Do leave, Krabs. Can
leave."

Mr. Krabs' 
expression falls, his 
claws hanging limp at 
his sides. "But Plankton," 
he begs. "We can work 
together, I can help 
you get better."

But Plankton's 
face is a wall of 
coldness, his antennas 
waving with anger. 
"No better," he says 
firmly. "Only live 
now." His words are a 
reflection of the stark 
reality that Mr. 
Krabs had ignored.

Mr. Krabs' eyes 
fill with tears, his 
claws clutching at 
his chest. "I hurt you 
so badly, Plankton. But I 
can't live with this," 
he sobs.

"I know Krabs sorry now.
Yet I last registered Krabs
laughter as I fainted from
the impact. Even if Krabs
didn't mean to, Krabs did.
So goodbye, Eugene Krabs."

The room grew silent as
the gravity of Plankton's words
settled heavily upon Mr. Krabs.
He hadn't considered that his
foolishness could lead to such
a profound change in his rival.

Mr. Krabs looked at Plankton,
his eyes brimming with
desperation. "If I can go back
and sacrifice my life to..."

"Can't. Perhaps can find peace
but for now, goodbye."

The finality in Plankton's voice
was a slap to Mr. Krabs' face,
his hope crumbling like
sand through his claws.
He staggered back, his
eyes wide with shock.

Sponge Bob's heart ached,
his hands clenched into fists
at his sides as he watched
the exchange unfold.
He knew Mr. Krabs was 
suffering, but he couldn't 
ignore the pain in 
Plankton's voice either.

Mr. Krabs' sobs grew 
louder, his body 
shaking with the weight 
of his guilt. "Please, 
Plankton," he begged.

But Plankton's gaze 
remained on the 
chessboard, his 
hands tracing the 
pattern of the 
squares, his antennas 
were still, his body 
a statue of cold 
resolve.

Mr. Krabs' sobs 
turned to sniffs as 
he took in Plankton's 
unyielding stance. He 
knew his rival well 
and he could see 
the deep-seated pain 
that lay beneath the 
surface of his words. 
With a heavy heart, he 
nodded. "I'll let ye
space then. I never wanted
to lose ye."

Plankton turns away.

Mr. Krabs' eyes grew 
large with sadness, his 
body quivering with 
the weight of his 
mistakes. "SpongeBob 
I'll give ye time off work as
long as you need to when for
Plankton. Goodbye, 
Plankton," he choked out.
He left the chum bucket.

new a journey to autism plabscore viii

AUTISM IN THE PLANKTON FAMILY viii


(Autistic author)



Just as quiet settled, 
Krabs' booming voice filled
the room. "Plankton,
where are ye!"

Plankton's eye flew open.
Sponge Bob and Karen exchanged
a worried look, knowing that
Mr. Krabs' presence could
easily overwhelm him, not to
mention Krabs caused this.

Krabs marched in, his
beady eyes searching the room.
"Ah, there ye be," he said,
spotting the small figure on
the couch.

Plankton's antennae shot
up, his body tensing. "K-Krabs,"
he stuttered, his voice
shaking with fear and anxiety
despite trying to appear strong.

Mr. Krabs' eyes
twinkling with mischief. "What's
this, Plankton? Too tired to
scheme today?"

Plankton's antennae twitched
nervously. "Just... resting," he
managed to murmur. 

"Resting?
In the middle of the day?
Pish-posh!" He waved a dismissive
claw in the air. "More
like plotting! I know your
tricks, Plankton!"

Sponge Bob stepped in, his
spongy body blocking Krabs'
view. "Hey, Mr. Krabs," he said.
"Plankton's had a rough day. He's
just taking it easy."

Krabs' claws click together. "Rough
day, eh?" he sneered. "I'll give
ye rough!"

Plankton's antennae drooped as
his heart raced. The familiar
threat of his enemy was like
a knot in his stomach, a
reminder of the harsh world
outside his sanctuary, and
what happened last time.

Sponge Bob's voice grew firm.
"Mr. Krabs, can we maybe talk
about this later?"

Mr. Krabs' eyes widened slightly
at the unusual assertion.
"Later? What's the matter with
now?"

Sponge Bob's gaze never left
Plankton's trembling form.
"Plankton's off the clock.."

"Off the clock?" he scoffed.
"There's no 'off the clock'!"

Sponge Bob stepped closer to
his friend, his spongy body a
barrier between the two
adversaries. "Mr. Krabs," he said,
his voice firm, "Can we
reschedule the... uh...
brainstorming session?"

Mr. Krabs' expression grew
skeptical. 

Karen stepped forward, her voice
calm but firm. "Krabs, please.
Plankton's been through a lot."

Mr. Krabs' eyes flicked to
Karen. "Pah!
Plankton's always had boundaries,
but that's never stopped before!"

Plankton's antennae quivered
desperately, tensing
even further. "Please, Krabs,"
he murmured, his voice barely
above a whisper. "Can't."

Mr. Krabs' eyes narrowed, his
claws coming to rest on his
hip. "What do you mean, 'can't'?"
he demanded.

Sponge Bob's voice was firm but
kind. "Mr. Krabs, Plankton's
been diagnosed with something.
It's like a... a... special
condition," he stumbled.

Mr. Krabs' beady eyes narrowed,
sneer remaining. "Special condition?
I'll give ye a special condition!" 

The room grew tense, the
energy palpable. Plankton's antennae
twitched rapidly, his body shrinking
under the weight of Mr. Krabs'
aggression. The memories of the
fight and the subsequent meltdown
flashed through his mind, a painful
reminder of his vulnerability.

Mr. Krabs' shadow loomed over the
couch, his eyes gleaming with
malice. Plankton's breathing grew
shallow, his heart racing. He felt
like a tiny creature trapped under
the gaze of a giant predator. "Please,"
he whimpered, his voice barely
audible.

Sponge Bob stepped in front of
Plankton, his spongy body taut with
tension. "Mr. Krabs," he said, his
tone firm, "Plankton's not ok.
You need to back off."

Mr. Krabs' sneer faltered, his
claws pausing mid-air. He took a
step back, his eyes widening
slightly as he took in Plankton's
state. The small creature's
eye was wide with fear, his
body trembling beneath the
thin blanket.

Sponge Bob watched, his heart
breaking for his friend. "Mr.
Krabs," he said, his voice firm but
not unkind. "What happened
between you two really affected
Plankton. He's been diagnosed
with autism because of it."

Mr. Krabs' expression shifted,
his eyes going wide with shock.
He took another step back, his
claws dropping to his sides. "What?
Autism?" he echoed, his voice
filled with disbelief.

Karen stepped closer. "Yes
Krabs," she said, her voice calm
and patient. "The doctor said
it's a result of the head
injury he sustained during
your fight."

Mr. Krabs' face paled, his
claws dropping to his sides.
"I... I," he stammered, bravado gone.

The room was silent, the weight
of his words hanging heavy in the
air. Karen's unforgiving. Sponge 
Bob watched, his heart heavy with 
hope that his boss might understand.

Mr. Krabs' eyes grew wide with horror
as the realization sank in. The
thought that he could have
caused such harm to his longtime
nemesis was to much to bear. He
swallowed hard, his chest
constricting with guilt.

He looked at Plankton, really
looked at him, for the first time
seeing the fear and pain in
his eye. Plankton
was trembling, his antennae
quivering with each shallow
breath he took.

Mr. Krabs took another step
back, his chest heaving. "Autism?"
he repeated. "Because
of me?"

The room was a silent
witness to the crab's
self-realization. The booming
voice that had so often
filled the Chum Bucket with
threats and taunts was now
just a faint echo of
regret.

Mr. Krabs stared at
Plankton, his beady eyes
shimmering with a
mixture of horror and guilt.
He had never seen the tiny
plankton look so vulnerable,
so broken. It was a stark
contrast to the scheming
genius he had always known.

"I-I..." he
stuttered, his claws
trembling as he struggled
to comprehend the gravity of
his actions.

Karen stepped forward, her
voice firm but measured. 
"The doctor said it's
because of the trauma to his
brain you inflicted. It's all
because of you! You did it."

Mr. Krabs' eyes widened even
further, and he took another
step back. "But... but, I
was just defending the Krabby
Patty!" he protested weakly.

Sponge Bob's gaze was steady
on his boss. "It's more than
that, Mr. Krabs. It's
irreversible with no cure."

Mr. Krabs' face fell, the
implications of his actions
finally sinking in. The
magnitude of his recklessness
was clear, and he couldn't help
but feel a pang of remorse. "What
can I do?" he asked, his voice
small and desperate.

Karen's gaze was steely. "You
can start by giving him space.
And maybe, just maybe, by being
kind for once in your life."

Mr. Krabs looked down at his
claws, which had been poised
for battle, now hanging limply at
his sides. He nodded slowly,
his eyes still on Plankton.

"I'm sorry, Plankton," he said,
his voice gruff. "I never
meant to hurt ye like this."

Plankton's antennae stilled. He
wasn't sure what to make of
Mr. Krabs' sudden apology. His
eye searched the crab's face.

"Mr. Krabs," he began, his voice
still small but growing stronger.
"I know Krabs didn't mean to... to
make me like this." His antennae
twitched slightly as he spoke.

Mr. Krabs' expression grew
soft, his eyes misting with tears.
"But I can't take it back," he
whispered, the weight of his
guilt heavy on his shoulders.

Suddenly, Plankton's tiny hand
reached out, tentatively taking
Mr. Krabs' large claw in his grip.
The gesture was unexpected,
his antennae quivering with the
effort of reaching out despite
his fear. It was a silent
offering of peace, a bridge
over the chasm of their rivalry.

Mr. Krabs looked down at their
joined hands with
surprise. The warmth of
Plankton's touch was a stark
contrast to the coldness of his
own heart, a reminder that
despite their differences, they
were all just creatures trying
to navigate a complex world.
The room held its breath as
Mr. Krabs felt the tremble in
Plankton's grip, a silent
plea for understanding and
compassion. It was a moment of
unexpected connection, a
reminder that even the most
bitter of enemies could find
common ground in pain and
suffering.

Mr. Krabs' eyes grew wet with
tears, his hardened exterior
cracking like a shell under the
pressure of his guilt. "I'm sorry,"
he murmured, his voice thick
with emotion.

Plankton's antennae twitched as
he processed the crab's words.
He knew Mr. Krabs was capable of
empathy, but rarely did it show.
This was a side of him he had
never seen before, and it was as
overwhelming as it was comforting.

"Thank you," he murmured, his
voice barely above a whisper.

Mr. Krabs nodded, his eyes
still on Plankton's hand in
his claw. He took a deep
breath, the weight of his
apology heavy on his chest. "I'll
leave you be," he said, his
voice gruff with emotion.

Plankton's antennae remained
still, his grip on Mr. Krabs'
clawed hand lingering in the
air for a moment before he
slowly withdrew it, his mind
reeling from the exchange.
Sponge Bob and Karen watched,
their expressions a mix of shock
and hope.

Mr. Krabs nodded, his eyes never
leaving Plankton's. He knew
that words alone wouldn't
erase the pain he had caused,
but it was a start. He took a
step back, his shoulders
slumped with the weight of his
newfound understanding. "I'll
leave you to rest," he said,
his voice gruff but sincere.

Plankton's antennae quivered with
relief, and he nodded slightly.

Mr. Krabs turned to leave, his
steps heavy as he moved
toward the door. But before
he could exit, Plankton's voice
stopped him. "Mr. Krabs," he
called out, his tone firm but
not unkind.

Mr. Krabs paused, his claw
on the doorknob. He looked back
over his shoulder, his expression
a mix of hope and fear.

Plankton's antennae quivered
slightly as he gathered his
thoughts. "I... I forgive you," he
managed to say, his voice
surprisingly steady.

Mr. Krabs' eyes widened in shock,
his claw frozen on the
doorknob. He had never expected
such words to come from
his enemy's lips, especially not
now, in the aftermath of such a
life-altering revelation.

He turned to face Plankton, his
expression a tumult of emotions.
"You... forgive me?" he whispered,
his voice hoarse with
disbelief.

Plankton nodded, his antennae
still. "If you can change,"
he said, his voice firm but not
unyielding. "Be better."

Mr. Krabs' gaze searched
Plankton's face, his own
expression a mirror of the
plankton's. "I'll try," he said,
his voice thick with emotion.

Plankton's antennae drooped in
a gesture of defeat. "Just try,"
he murmured. "That's all I ask."

new autism in the plankton family plabscore viii

ᵁᵖˢᵉᵗ ᵂᵒʳᵗʰ
⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾
ᵀʰᵉʸ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵗᵗˡᵉ ᵒᶠ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ
ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ
ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵉᵖ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱᵐ‧ “ᵂᵉ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᴹʳ‧ 
ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵒ ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ᵐᵃᵗᵗᵉʳ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ’ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ
ʷᵒʳᵗʰ ⁱᵗ!” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵒˢˢ‧
ᴵᵗ’ˢ ᵇᵃᵈ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ʰᵉ ᶠᵃⁱˡᵉᵈ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ
ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ⁿᵒʷ ˢᵃʸ
ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ʳᵉᵃˢᵒⁿ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ
ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ʷᵒʳˢᵉ‧ ᔆᵒ ʰᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ
ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ, ᵃˢ ʰⁱˢ
ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˡᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ⁱⁿ‧
“ᴵ ˢᵉᵉ ⁿᵒ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ‧‧” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ
ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ, ᵇᵘᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˢᵉᵉᵐᵉᵈ
ᵗᵒ ᵈⁱˢʳᵉᵍᵃʳᵈ‧ ᴺᵒʷ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ
ʰᵒʷ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ʰᵉ ˡᵒᵒᵏˢ‧ “ᵂʰᵃᵗ ʷᵉⁿᵗ…”
“ᴵ’ᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒᵒᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ!”
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢⁿᵃᵖᵖᵉᵈ ʷᵉᵃᵏˡʸ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ
ʷᵉⁿᵗ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ʳᵒᵒᵐ, ᶜˡᵒˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵈ
ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵈᵒᵒʳ ᵇᵉʰⁱⁿᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢⁱᵍʰˢ
ᵏⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵘᵍ ʰⁱᵐ‧
ᔆʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰᵉ’ˢ ⁿᵉᵉᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ
ᵗᵒ ᵖʳᵒᶜᵉˢˢ‧ ᴴᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ’ˢ ʷᵃⁿᵗⁱⁿᵍ
ˢᵒᵐᵉ ˢᵖᵃᶜᵉ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵒʷ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ˢᵒ
ˢʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵒʷˢ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵗʳʸ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ
ˢᵗⁱʳʳᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ‧ ᴬⁿᵈ ʸᵉᵗ, ˢʰᵉ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˡᵉᵗ
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ˢʰᵉ’ˢ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ, ᵇᵘᵗ ˢʰᵉ’ᵈ
ᵃᵛᵒⁱᵈ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵖʳʸⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ‧
“ᔆʷᵉᵉᵗˢ ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵃᵗ’ˢ ᵍᵒᵗ
ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ’ᵐ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃˡᵏ ᵒʳ ˡⁱˢᵗᵉⁿ‧ ᴵ ᵃᵐ
ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵗᵉˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ, ⁱˢ ᵃˡˡ‧” ᔆʰᵉ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧
ᴿⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵒʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ’ˢ ᵍᵒᵗ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ
ᵇᵒᵇ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵐⁱⁿᵈ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ’ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ
ᵒⁿᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵃʸ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ‧
ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ʰᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ, ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ˢᵒ
ʷᵒʳᵗʰˡᵉˢˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ‧ ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ
ᵃᵖᵖʳᵉᶜⁱᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ’ˢ ᶜᵒⁿᶜᵉʳⁿ‧
ᵂʰᵉⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠⁱⁿᵃˡˡʸ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ
ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵉᵈʳᵒᵒᵐ, ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ
ᵃⁿᵈ ᵇᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ‧ “ᶠᵉᵉˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿʸ
ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ, ˢʷᵉᵉᵗˢ?” ᴴᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ˢʰʳᵘᵍᵍᵉᵈ‧
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗʰᵉ
ʷⁱⁿᵈᵒʷ ᵃˢ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ
ᵇᵒᵇ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ʷᵒʳᵏ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʷ ʰⁱᵐ
ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗʰᵉ ʷⁱⁿᵈᵒʷ, ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ‧
ᴳᵒⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ʰᵉ
ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ “ᵂʰʸ ʸᵒᵘ
ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ?” “ᵂᵒʳᵗʰˡᵉˢˢⁿᵉˢˢ‧‧”
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳᵉᵈ ʰᵒʷ ʰᵉ
ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʰⁱᵐ‧ “ᴵ’ᵐ ˢᵒ ˢᵒʳʳʸ‧‧”
“ᴵ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ʷᵉ’ʳᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ’ᵈ 
ᶜᵃˡˡ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢ‧” “ᴼʰ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ
ᴵ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵐᵉᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰᵘʳᵗ ʸᵒᵘ! ᔆᵒ
ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ, ᶠᵒʳᵍⁱᵛᵉ ᵐᵉ‧‧” “ᔆᵘʳᵉ
ᵏⁱᵈ, ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵒʷⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃᵖᵒˡᵒᵍʸ‧”
“ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ˢᵖᵉⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘ
ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿᵗ‧‧” “ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ˢʰᵃʳᵉ ᵐʸ
ᵇᵉᵈ ⁱˢ ᵇⁱᵍ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ!” ᔆᵒ ᵗʰᵉʸ ˢʰᵃʳᵉᵈ‧
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ‧ ᔆᵒ
ᵗʰᵉⁿ, ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜᵘʳˡᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵇʸ ʰⁱᵐ‧
ᵂʰᵉⁿᶜᵉ ʰᵉ ᵃʷᵒᵏᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ
ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ’ˢ 
ᶜˡᵒˢᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ʰᵉˡᵈ ʰᵃⁿᵈˢ‧ 
╰ ✧ ･ﾟ∙ ∗ — ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ ⟨ 3 7 0 ⟩

new Spongebob Squarepants/Sheldon J. Plankton Karen (SpongeBob) SpongeBob SquarePants (character) spongebob fanfic upset worth

A LIFE OF DIVERSITY viii
(Autistic author)

After SpongeBob and Patrick left
Plankton settled for his usual movie 
night. Karen took this time to call 
Sandy, her best friend, a gal pal.

"Sandy, it's Karen," she said, her voice trembling 
slightly. "I need to talk to you about something."

On the other end of the line, Sandy's voice was 
warm and concerned. "Howdy! What's going on
Karen?"

"It's Plankton," Karen began. "He's... changed."

Sandy's voice grew serious. "What happened
Karen?"

"Plankton had an accident," she said, her voice 
shaking. "He hit his head and... well, the doctors 
say he has autism now, and I thought I'd let you know."

Sandy's voice was calm and understanding. "Oh
Karen," she said. "I'm so sorry to hear that. How's 
he handling it?"

Karen sighed heavily. "It's been... a lot," she admitted. 
"He's so focused on jellyfish now, and it's like nothing 
else matters. It's his whole world."

"Wow, that's quite a change," Sandy said, her voice filled 
with empathy. "How's he been with social interactions?"

"Well, that's the thing," she said. "He's been... different. Sometimes, 
it's like he's in his own little world. And other times, like with Patrick, 
he's just... really sensitive."

"Patrick?" Sandy's voice was incredulous. "Patrick made fun of him?"

"Well, not exactly. He just didn't understand," she explained. 
"He said jellyfish were boring, and it really hurt Plankton's 
feelings. The neurodivergence is irreversible, and he's still Plankton."

Sandy's voice was filled with understanding. "But it sounds like he's 
found something that brings him a lot of joy."

"Yeah," Karen agreed, her tentacles relaxing slightly. "But it's hard 
to watch him struggle, you know?"

Sandy's voice was gentle. "I can imagine, Karen. But remember
he's still the same Plankton at heart."

The next day, Sandy arrived at the Chum Bucket, her burly squirrel 
arms holding a treasure trove of various miniature jellyfish figurines. 
She'd spent hours scouring the deepest parts of the ocean for the 
rarest and most detailed jellyfish models she could find. "Hi, Karen!" 
she exclaimed, her voice filled with excitement.

Karen's eyes lit up at the sight of her friend. "Sandy, what's all this?" 
she asked, her tentacles waving in curiosity.

"I heard about Plankton's newfound love for jellyfish," Sandy said 
with a grin, her cheeks red with the excitement of her discovery. "And 
I thought these might help him feel more connected. Where is he?" 
Sandy comes in.

Plankton's sitting in the corner, his jellyfish book open on the floor 
in front of him, surrounded by a sea of scribbled notes and diagrams. 
His gaze didn't leave the page, but his posture straightened at the sound of a 
new presence in the room.

"Plankton," Karen called gently, "Look who's here!"

Plankton's antennae shot up as he looked over at Sandy, his 
eye widening at the sight of a box.

"These are for you," Sandy said, setting the box down in front of him.

Plankton's antennae quivered with excitement as he looked up, his 
monotone voice cracking slightly. "For Plankton?"

Sandy nodded, her smile genuine. "I thought they might make you happy," she 
said, her voice gentle. "They're all different types of jellyfish. Each is unique 
and special, just like you."

Plankton's antennae twitched with excitement as he reached for the box, his 
eye scanning its contents. "Jellyfish," he murmured, his monotone voice filled 
with wonder. "Thanks"

Sandy watched as Plankton carefully removed each figurine, his eye lighting 
up with each new discovery. "You're welcome," she said, her voice warm. "I 
wanted to do something to support you in your newfound passion."

Plankton's antennae quivered with excitement as he examined each jellyfish.
"These are... amazing," he murmured, his monotone voice filled with awe.

Sandy chuckled, her eyes sparkling with happiness. "I'm so glad 
you like them," she said, watching him closely. "They're from all over 
the ocean. Some of them are pretty rare."

Plankton's antennae quivered with excitement as he examined each 
figure. "Rare," he murmured, his monotone voice filled with a new
found enthusiasm. "Rare jellyfish."

Sandy nodded, her eyes bright. "Yeah, 
some of them are," she said, her 
voice filled with excitement. "Do you 
have a favorite type?"

Plankton's antennae twitched as he thought. "Turritopsis dohrnii," he 
murmured. "The immortal jellyfish. It can revert back to its polyp stage 
and start its life cycle again."

Sandy's eyes widened. "Wow, Plankton," she said, impressed. "That's 
really cool."

Plankton looked up from the box, his antennae waving slightly. "You know 
jellyfish?" he asked, his voice monotone yet filled with hope.

Sandy nodded, her eyes shining. "A bit," 
she said, her tail swishing with 
excitement. "But I'd love to learn more 
from an expert like you."

Plankton's antennae quivered with a hint of pride. "Expert," he murmured, his 
monotone voice cracking slightly.

Sandy sat down next to him, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Tell me more 
about them," she urged, her voice gentle.

Plankton's antennae perked up, and he began to speak with a newfound 
energy. "Turritopsis dohrnii," he recited, his monotone voice cracking with 
excitement. "It's a jellyfish that can live forever. If it's injured or stressed, it 
goes back to being a polyp. It's like a rebirth."

Sandy leaned closer, her eyes wide with fascination. "Really?" she said, her voice 
filled with wonder. "That's incredible!"

Plankton's antennae quivered with excitement. "Yes," he murmured, his monotone 
voice growing more animated. "Immortal jellyfish can survive forever. 
Plankton read in book."

Sandy's eyes grew wide with amazement. 
"That's so fascinating, Plankton," she 
said, her voice filled with 
genuine interest. "How do they do that?"

Plankton's antennae quivered with excitement. "When Turritopsis dohrnii is 
hurt, it goes back to polyp," he said, holding up a tiny figurine of the species. 
"Polyp is like jellyfish baby, but it's not baby. It's just jellyfish in different shape."

Sandy nodded, her eyes glued to the miniature figures as Plankton spoke. "That's 
so amazing," she said, her voice filled with wonder. "I've never heard of anything 
like that before."

"Jellyfish are fascinating," Plankton murmured, his antennae waving slightly as 
he picked up another figurine. "This one," he said, holding up a mini model of a 
clear jellyfish, "is called a Burgessomedusa phasmiformis."

Sandy's eyes lit up. "It's like a ghost jellyfish," she said, her voice filled 
with excitement. "I've read about these!"

"Yes," Plankton murmured, his monotone voice cracking with pride. "They're 
very rare and very beautiful."

Sandy nodded, her eyes shining. 
"They are," she agreed, reaching for one of 
the figurines. "How did you learn 
so much about jellyfish?"

Plankton's antennae twitched slightly 
as he paused in his examination 
of the ghostly jellyfish. "Plankton read 
book," he murmured.

Sandy nodded, her eyes still 
on the delicate figurine. "What 
else?" she 
asked, her voice filled 
with genuine curiosity.

Plankton's antennae quivered as he searched his memory. "Book say... that 
jellyfish are ancient creatures, with some species over 500 million years old."

Sandy's eyes grew wide with amazement. "Wow, Plankton," she said, her voice 
filled with admiration. "You really know your stuff. Can I ask a question?"

Plankton nodded, his antennae twitching with excitement. "Question," he 
murmured.

Sandy took a deep breath, her eyes 
on the book. "What was the accident, 
Plankton?" she asked gently. "How 
did you hit your head?"

Plankton's antennae drooped slightly, 
the excitement draining from 
his voice. "Krabs," he murmured, his 
monotone cracking. "Mr. Krabs. Angry."

"What happened, Plankton?"

Plankton's antennae twitched as he looked up at Sandy, his 
eye wide with the memory. "Mr. Krabs," he murmured, his 
monotone voice filled with a sudden urgency. "Mr. Krabs 
slammed cash register on Plankton's head, then Plankton 
woke up in hospital."

Sandy's smile faltered, her eyes filled with concern. "Oh
Plankton," she said, her voice gentle.

"Woke up," he murmured. "In hospital. Everything different."

Karen looked at him, her expression gentle. "What do you remember?"

Plankton paused, antennae quivering 
as he tried to piece together 
the jumbled memories. "Car," he 
murmured finally. "Long ride."

"The hospital," Karen said, stroking his back gently. "You were in a 
hospital for a bit after the accident."

Plankton's antennae twitched as he nodded, his monotone 
voice cracking. "Yes, hospital," he murmured. "Doctors talked, 
but Plankton didn't understand."

Sandy leaned in, her eyes filled with sympathy. "They told you 
about your autism?" she asked softly.

Plankton nodded, his antennae drooping. "Karen said it's why 
Plankton thinks differently," he murmured.

Sandy nodded, her eyes filled with empathy. "It's okay to think 
differently, Plankton," she said.

Plankton's antennae twitched slightly. "Different," he murmured, his 
monotone voice filled with a hint of confusion. "But... Plankton good 
at jellyfish."

Sandy nodded, her eyes filled with understanding. "You are," she 
said, her voice firm. "And that's something amazing. Your brain 
works in ways that let you understand jellyfish better than anyone 
else."

Plankton looked at her, his antennae perking up slightly. "Better 
than anyone?" he asked, his monotone voice 
filled with a hint of doubt.

"Absolutely," Sandy said, her voice firm. 

new a life of diversity jellyfishcore viii

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.

Language:EnglishStats:Published:2024-02-01Words:721

There were many words to describe the Chum Bucket, and pleasant certainly was not one of them. Overall it reeked of filth, grime and all sorts of health code violations. A certain musty odor seemed to always linger in the air, no matter how much air freshener one used. Truly, it was a wonder this place was still in business. There were many theories as to why, but truly no one except for the restaurants’ owners really knew.

One of said owners was in the lobby, waiting as she always did for her husband when he was off with one of his schemes. Karen was standing in the room in her mobile apparatus, her screen blank as she waited ever so patiently. Best case scenario Plankton would simply fail as usual. Worst… the Chum Bucket was blown to smithereens again. Neither outcome was good, but it was obvious which one was more favorable.

Finally, a small tapping sound came from one of the doors. He was back. Karen wheeled over to the red double doors and let the poor man in. He was a mess. He was covered in ash and some bruises, and she was immediately concerned. “Plankton-” she began.
“Not now honey.”

Plankton sulked off, no doubt on his way to the lab. “Plankton!”
The tiny organism turned around to face his computer wife. “What?”
“I have dinner ready.”
“I ain’t in the mood for holographic meatloaf.”

He turned back around and went on his way. Karen put her robotic arms on where her hips would be and rolled on after him. “What kind of attitude is that? At least let me patch you up! It looks like it hurts!”
“No it- ow. Ok fine.”

Karen bent over and picked up the creature in her metal palms and gently lifted him up and began to wheel him into the lab area. She set him down on a counter and got out the first aid kit that was for this sort of thing.
“How’d it go”, she said as she began to clean his wounds.
“OW! Easy!”
“Sorry sweetie. But how did things go? Didja get that formula this time?”
“What does it look like? Nope. I failed again. Always.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I… I can’t do this.”
“Can’t do what?”
“What do you think?! I can’t get that formula! Krabs is always one step ahead!”
“Oh hon, surely you’ll get it next time”, Karen said, giving Plankton a little pat on the back which caused him to fall flat on his face.
“Ow.”
“Sorry.”

Plankton stood, and sighed. “That’s what you always say. I always go for it again, and it blows up in my face! Literally! Look at all these inventions. Failures. All of them.”
Plankton’s eye was beginning to tear up.

Karen felt her circuits beginning to tingle with pity. Poor little fella. She remembered all of the earlier formula-nabbing schemes, and how motivated and eager her husband was. With each failed plan Plankton grew ever more weary, which was odd as he was usually quite the tenacious type.

“Oh Plankton”, Karen said tenderly.
“Oh Karen! I’m a failure!”
Karen gasped in horror. “You are NOT!”
“How?”
“For starters, you build all these amazing inventions that are way ahead of their time! You’re brilliant!”
“Go on.”
“You went to college!”
“Yeah!”
“And you're gonna GET that formula!”
“Yeah!”

Plankton made sure to say the last yeah extra loudly, clearly filled with his usual overinflated ego once again. It usually never took to long to reignite his drive via a small pep talk, something Karen was very happy to provide for her beloved single celled spouse.

“I am going to get the formula, and make Krabs eat dirt!”
“I know you are, honey. But I think you should rest or eat first.”
“No I- ow. Yeah alright.”
“That's the spirit, little guy. Now let's go and relax for a while. You've earned it.”

Karen picked up her now relieved husband, and began to wheel them towards their living quarters so the poor little thing could rest.
“I love you, my tiny little genius.”
“Heh, love you too babe.”

And so the pair of strange lovers were off, for now they would relax and perhaps discuss oh so evıl, diabolical and lemon scented plans for the future.

new Karen/Sheldon J. Plankton Karen (SpongeBob) sheldon j. plankton spongebob fanfic my tiny genius

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.

new get sleepy karen plankton Karen/Sheldon J. Plankton POV Karen Karen (SpongeBob) random & short sleep & naps falling asleep in someone's lap seeking comfort sheldon j. plankton

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

new Karen/Sheldon J. Plankton wordcount: 100-500 karen plankton POV Karen Karen (SpongeBob) Sleep & Naps tonsillectomy

WHEN THE CHIP FALLS ii/ii

(Autistic author)


Karen takes a deep breath,
preparing to explain. "You know
how sometimes, when somethings
made, things don't always
develop as planned?"
she starts, her eyes never
leaving Chip's. "Well, Daddy's
brain is like that. It's just
how he was born."

Plankton's shoulders slump,
anger dissipating into
a heavy sadness. He looks
at his son, his heart aching.
"It's hard for me to express
how I feel," he says. "But
that doesn't mean I don't feel it."

Chip stares up at his
father.
"But why can't you just tell me?"
he asks, trembling.
"Why can't you just be like...
normal dads?"

The word "normal" hangs in the air
and Plankton feels
his rage reignite.

"Don't you dare," he growls, his
eye flashing with anger. "Don't
you ever say that again."

Chip takes a step back, his body
shaking. "What did I say?"
he whispers.

But Plankton doesn't
answer. He turns away,
his movements stiff and
jerking, as if he's fighting
against invisible chains.
Without a word, he storms
out of the living room.
The bedroom door slams
shut with a finality that
echoes through the house.

Karen's gaze follows him,
her heart heavy. Then she
looks back at Chip, her eyes
filled with a mix of love
and disappointment. "Chip,"
she says firmly. "You can't
just... expect him to change
like that."

Chip's eyes fill with
understanding, his body
slumping. "I didn't mean
to..." he starts, his voice
trailing off. "But I just
want to spend time with
him," he says, his voice
small and defeated.

Karen sighs, her gaze
softening as she looks at
her son. "I know, sweetie,"
she says, her voice gentle.
"But using the word 'normal'
doesn't help. It makes
Daddy feel like something's
wrong with him, like he's
not good enough."

Chip's eyes widen, realizing
his mistake. "I didn't mean it
like that," he stammers, his
cheeks flushing with
embarrassment. "I just want
us to be happy together."

Karen nods solemnly, her
eyes holding his. "I know
you do," she says, her voice
gentle. "But words can hurt,
especially when we don't
understand the full weight
they carry. Your father's
not 'normal' in the way you
think, but that doesn't mean
his love for you is any less."

Chip bites his lip, his eyes
glued to the floor. He feels
a pang of guilt, knowing
he's hurt his dad.

With a heavy sigh, Karen
stands up. "Let's go talk to
your father," she says,
placing a comforting hand
on Chip's shoulder. They
walk down the hallway
to Plankton's bedroom.

The door is ajar, and
through the crack, Karen
can see Plankton's hunched
form on the bed, his face
buried in his hands. His
shoulders shake with silent
sobs. Her heart aches for
his pain.

With Chip in tow, she
pushes the door open. Plankton
doesn't look up, his body
wrapped in a cocoon of
self-loathing. The room is
a mess of discarded lab
equipment and half-finished
experiments, a visual representation
of his tumultuous thoughts.

"Plankton," Karen says softly,
her voice a lifeline thrown
into the sea of his despair.

He doesn't move, his
body rigid with the weight
of his own emotions.

Chip takes a tentative step
forward, his hand reaching
out to touch his father's
shoulder. "Dad?" he whispers.

Plankton's body jolts,
his sobs growing louder.
Karen's heart clenches at the
sound, knowing the depth
of his pain.

"Dad?" Chip's voice is
tiny, his hand hovering
over his father's back.
He's never seen
his dad like this,
so vulnerable and broken.

Plankton's sobs
fill the room, each one
a shard of pain that
penetrates Karen's soul.
Her heart breaks
for her husband, for
the struggle she knows
he faces every day.

Chip's hand shakes
as he touches Plankton's
shoulder, his voice a
tiny thread of hope
woven through the
storm of emotions.
"Dad, I'm sorry," he says,
his voice barely a whisper.

Plankton's sobs
intensify, his body
wracking with the weight
of his sorrow. Karen
moves to the bed, sitting
down beside him, her
hand on his back. "It's
okay," she whispers, her
voice a gentle breeze in the
storm of his grief.

But Plankton is
beyond consolation. His
sobs are like waves,
crashing against the
shore of his pride,
eroding the barriers he's
built up over the years.
He can't speak, can't
even look at his son.

Chip's touch is
a soft whisper in
the hurricane of
his father's pain, but
it's enough to make
Plankton's shoulders
shake even harder.
The weight of his
emotions is too much,
his body unable to
contain the torrent.

Karen wraps her
arms around him,
trying to soothe the
storm within. She
knows the feeling
all too well, having
been his anchor through
so many of these
moments. Plankton's
sobs are like a language
only she can understand.

Chip watches, feeling
helpless, his hand
still hovering over
his father's back. He's
seen his dad upset before,
but never like this. It's
like looking into the
eye of a hurricane and
wishing you could stop
it from spinning.

"Daddy," Chip says
again, his voice
tiny, hopeful. Plankton's
body tenses under
his touch, and for a
moment, it seems like
the storm might abate.

But the sobs only
get louder, the tremors
more violent. Karen's
heart breaks as she sees
the hurt in her son's eyes.
"Let's give him some
space, okay?" she says
gently, her hand on
Chip's shoulder.
"Go wait, I'll take
care of him."

With a nod, Chip retreats,
his eyes never leaving
his father's bent form.
Once he's gone, Karen
wraps her arms around
Plankton, holding him
tightly as he cries.

"Shh," she whispers,
stroking his back in soothing
circles. "It's okay. I'm
here." Her voice is a
lullaby in the tempest
of his emotions, a beacon
of calm in the chaos.

Slowly, Plankton's sobs
begin to subside, his
body unclenching from its
self-imposed prison. He
lifts his face, eye red
and wet with tears.

"I just want..." he whispers,
his voice raw with pain.

Karen's eyes well up with
tears, her heart aching for
his suffering. "You are
normal, Plankton," she says
softly. "You're just different."

Plankton's body quakes, his
sobs subsiding into hiccups.
"But Chip..." he chokes out.
"He thinks... he thinks..."

Karen's grip tightens,
her voice firm and loving.
"Chip's young," she says.
"He doesn't understand
yet. But we'll teach him."

Plankton's sobs slowly
ease, his breaths coming
less ragged. He nods, his
body still tense. "I know,"
he says, his voice a whisper.
"But it hurts."

Karen pulls him closer,
aching for his
pain. She kisses
his cheek, her touch
gentle the way she knows
he likes it.

"You're a good dad,"
she whispers, her voice
the calm after the storm.
"You show
Chip that you're here for him,
in your own way."

Plankton's eye meets hers,
his gaze searching for truth
in her words. He nods
slowly, his shoulders
slumping as he takes a deep,
shuddering breath. "Thank
you," he whispers, his voice
still thick with emotion.

Karen nods, her heart
full of love and sorrow.
"Let's go talk to Chip,"
she says gently, standing up.

Plankton wipes his eye,
his body still trembling.
He nods, following her out
of the room, each step
a monumental effort.

In the hallway, Chip is
sitting on the floor, his
back against the wall.
He looks up as they approach,
his eyes red and swollen.
"Dad," he says, his voice
cracking with emotion.

Plankton's steps falter,
his heart in his throat. He
forces himself to meet his
son's gaze, the weight of
his guilt a heavy burden.
"I'm sorry," Chip says,
his voice shaky.

The words are a balm
to Plankton's soul, his
anger and pain receding
like a retreating tide.

He looks at Chip, his
eye swollen with
unshed tears, his heart
heavy with regret.
"I didn't mean to... I just..."

Chip's eyes are red,
his cheeks stained with
tears. "Dad, I'm sorry,"
he whispers, his voice
a mere thread of sound.

Plankton's heart clenches
at the sight of his son's
pain. He sits down next
to Chip, his movements
slow and deliberate, not
wanting to startle him. "It's
okay," he says, his voice
shaky. "I shouldn't have
snapped at you. I'm not..."

Chip looks up, his eyes
swimming with tears. "You're
not what?" he asks, his
voice hopeful.

Plankton sighs, trying
to find the words. "I'm
not like other dads," he
admits, his voice barely
above a whisper. "But that
doesn't mean I don't l-love
you, or that I don't want
to be with you."
Plankton's gaze drops to
his son's small, trembling
hand. "It's hard," he says,
his voice tight with emotion.
"I... I don't always know
how to make you feel
what's inside."

Chip looks up at him, his
eyes searching. "What's
inside?" he asks, his voice
tiny.

Plankton's gaze meets
his son's, and he sees the
flicker of hope. "Love," he
says finally, his voice
cracking. "It's just... different."

Chip's eyes widen with
understanding, the fear
fading from his eyes. "Can you
show me?" he asks, his voice
small but steady.

Plankton nods, his body
still tense with emotion. He
thinks for a moment, trying to
find a way to bridge the gap
between his love and his
inability to express it. "Look,"
he says, pointing to a jar
on the shelf. "I only like certain
touches from certain people.
But I'm the one who recommended
we get that ice cream yesterday, right?"

Chip nods, his eyes
glistening with hope. "Yeah, you
always know the perfect flavor."

Plankton's smile is
forced, but it's a start. He takes
a deep, shaky breath. "And remember
when you had that science fair
project, and I helped you?"

Chip nods, his eyes
lit with memory. "You stayed
up all night, making sure I got
it just right."

Plankton's smile is a little
more genuine this time. "I did
that because I care about you.
I want you to be happy, even if I
can't show it like everyone else."

He reaches out tentatively,
his hand hovering near Chip's.
For a moment, it seems like
he might withdraw again,
like a snail retreating into
its shell at the first sign of
danger. But then, with a
deep breath, he touches
his son's shoulder, his
fingers light and unsure.

Plankton's hand trembles,
his touch as gentle as a
feather landing on Chip's shoulder
before retreating.
"Normal is over
rated," he whispers, the word
a promise. "But I do, in my own way."

new when the chip falls Chip Plankton II Karen/Chip Plankton II Sheldon J. Plankton & Chip Plankton II ii

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!"

new Karen/Sheldon J. Plankton karen plankton POV Karen Karen (SpongeBob) SpongeBob SquarePants (character) Mentioned SpongeBob SquarePants shake a leg

https://m.fanfiction.net/s/13315637/1/

RING!

Squidward picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Squidward my man! Hey, you wanna come down to the Chum Bucket? I wanted to see you!"

"Sure thing Plankton, I'll come right over!"

Squidward entered the Chum Bucket expecting to hear laughter from Plankton, but he heard quite the opposite.

"Plankton? Plankton wake up honey...PLANKTON! OH NEPTUNE; SOMEONE CALL AN AMBULANCE!"

SpongeBob rushed into the hospital room.

"Is he gonna be alright?" SpongeBob asked.

Squidward shook his head. Plankton was sick.

SpongeBob sighed sadly.

"Y-you, s-sponge... Come over here..." Plankton said weakly from his bed.

SpongeBob walked over.

"L-listen here kid... I n-never was the most generous sea creature out there... Though n-now, as I'm here on my deathbed...There's something ..." Plankton said through coughing.

"I realized that m-making customers happy was really what I needed to do... N-not go for w-world domination... While Eugene did many terrible things... He s-sure did know how to make people happy with those p-patties." Plankton further explained.

"B-because... Being happy is w-what you take pride in, along with your patties... W-which is why you n-need to build a new legacy for the Krusty Krab, w-will be going to you... I have great faith that you will..." Plankton replied weakly.
SpongeBob was shocked. 
The beeps on the monitor were becoming less frequent, he turned to Karen.

"M-my time here has come to an e-end... I'm sure we'll be together a-again someday... Farewell to all of you... I w-wish n-nothing b-but t-the b-best..."

And with that, he went into a coughing fit. Plankton passed away.

"Plankton DIED?! Neptune..." Mr. Krabs said shaking his head in disbelief. "So wait, if Plankton's been dead, what happened to the Chum Bucket?"

"Oh, Karen turned it into a novelty shop. It makes a pretty good profit." SpongeBob explained.

"That's nice..." Mr. Krabs replied happily.

by NMMacc18
 Cartoons » SpongeBob SquarePants Rated: K+, English, Humor & Drama, SpongeBob, Squidward, Mr. Krabs, Plankton

new Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net sickfic Karen (SpongeBob) jun 2019 Grief/Mourning Mentioned SpongeBob SquarePants 2019

ᑦᵒᵖᶤᶰᵍ ᴾᵒᵈ
⁽ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃᶰᶠᶤᶜ⁾
'ˢᵉᶰᵈᶤᶰᵍ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘᵎ' 'ᵞᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ
ˢᵒ ˡᵒᵛᵉᵈᵎ' 'ᵂᶤˢʰ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉˢᵗᵎ'
ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷᶤᶠᵉ ʰᵉᵃʳˢ
ᵗʰᵉ ᵛᵒᶤᶜᵉ ᵐᵉˢˢᵃᵍᵉˢ ᶜᵒᶰᶜᵉʳᶰᶤᶰᵍ
ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ˡᵉᶠᵗˑ ᴮᵘᵗ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃᶰᵈ
ʳᵉᵐᵃᶤᶰᵉᵈ ˢᶤˡᵉᶰᵗ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵐᵒᵗᶤᵒᶰˡᵉˢˢˑ
ᴵᵗ ᵃˡˡ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉᶰᵉᵈ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʰᵒᵘʳˢ ᵉᵃʳˡᶤᵉʳˑ
ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᶤˢᵗ ᵒᶠ
ᶤᶰᵍʳᵉᵈᶤᵉᶰᵗˢ ʷʰᵉᶰ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ
ʰᵉᵃʳˢ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵒᵘᶰᵈ ᵒᶠ ˢᵒᵐᵉ
ᵗʰᶤᶰᵍ ˡᶤᵏᵉ ᵃᶰ ᵉˣᵖˡᵒˢᶤᵒᶰ ᵇᵘᵗ
ˢᵃʷ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ
ˢᵗᵃᶰᵈᶤᶰᵍ ˢᵒ ˢʰᵉ ʷᵉᶰᵗ ᵗᵒ
ᶤᶰᵛᵉˢᵗᶤᵍᵃᵗᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ ˢᵒᵘᶰᵈᵉᵈˑ
ᑦᵒᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᶠᶤᶰᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᴹʳˑ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ
ᵇᵘᶤˡᵗ ᵃ ᵗʰᶤᶰᵍ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵗᵒ
ᵉˡᶤᵐᶤᶰᵃᵗᵉ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ʷʰᶤᶜʰ
ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵈᵉˢᵗʳᵒʸᵉᵈ˒ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ
ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃᶰᵈ ʷᶤᵗʰ ʰᵉʳˑ
ᵀᵃᵏᶤᶰᵍ ʰᶤˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵉᵗᵉˡʸ ᵘᶰᶜᵒᶰˢᶜᶤᵒᵘˢ
ᵇᵒᵈʸ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ˢʰᵉ
ᵖᵘᵗ ʰᶤᵐ ᶤᶰ ˢᵘᵖᶤᶰᵉ ᵖᵒˢᶤᵗᶤᵒᶰ ᶤᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵃᵇˑ
ᴹʳˑ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵈᵉᵛᶤᶜᵉ ˢˡᵃᵐᵐᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ'ˢ
ʰᵉᵃᵈ ʰᵃʳᵈ ᵉᶰᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗᵒ ᶤᶰᶠˡᶤᶜᵗ ᵈᵃᵐᵃᵍᵉ
ᵗᵒ ᵇʳᵃᶤᶰˑ ˢᶤᶰᶜᵉ ᵗʰᵉᶰ˒ ˢʰᵉ ᵐᵒᶰᶤᵗᵒʳᵉᵈ
ᵛᶤᵗᵃˡˢ ᵃᶰᵈ ʷᵃᶤᵗᵉᵈ˒ ʰᵒᵖᶤᶰᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰˑ
ˢʰᵉ'ˢ ᵍˡᵃᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵖᵖᵃʳᵃᵗᵘˢ ᵍᵒᵗ
ᵈᵉˢᵗʳᵒʸᵉᵈ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃᶰᵈ'ˢ
ᶰᵒᵗ ᵇᵘᵈᵍᶤᶰᵍ ᵃᵗ ᵃˡˡˑ ˢʰᵉ ᶜʳᶤᵉᵈˑ
ᴰᵉᵉᵖˡʸ ᵘᶰᶜᵒᶰˢᶜᶤᵒᵘˢ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ᵗᵒ
ᶰᶤᵍʰᵗ ᶰᵒʷ˒ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ˢᶤᵍʰᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ
ᵗʰᵉ ˢᶤᵍʰᵗˑ "ᑦᵒᵐᵉ ᵒᶰ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ
ʲᵘˢᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵐᵉ˒ ᵈᵒᶰ'ᵗ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ᵐᵉᵎ"
ˢʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃʸᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ'ˢ ˢᶤᵈᵉ ᵃˡˡ
ᶰᶤᵍʰᵗ ʷᶤᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ᵃᶰʸ ᶰᵉʷ ᶜʰᵃᶰᵍᵉˢˑ
ᵂʰᵉᶰᶜᵉ ᵐᵒʳᶰᶤᶰᵍ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ˒ ʰᵉ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ
ʳᵉᵐᵃᶤᶰᵉᵈ ᵒᵇˡᶤᵛᶤᵒᵘˢ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳˡᵈ
ᵃʳᵒᵘᶰᵈ ʰᶤᵐˑ ᴵᵗ'ˢ ᵒᶰˡʸ ᶤᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ
ᶰᵒᵒᶰ ʷʰᵉᶰ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ'ˢ ˢᵉᶰˢᵒʳˢ ᶰᵒʷ
ᵈᵉᵗᵉᶜᵗᵉᵈ ᵃ ˢᵒᵘᶰᵈ ᵒᶠ ᵖᵃᶤᶰ ᶜᵒᵐᶤᶰᵍ
ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰˑ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵖᵉʳᵏᵉᵈ ᵘᵖˑ
ᴹᵘᶠᶠˡᵉᵈ ᵇᵉᵉᵖˢ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒᶰᶤᵗᵒʳ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵐᵉ
ˢʰᵃʳᵖᵉʳ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʷᵒᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ ᵃᶰᵈ ˢᵉᶰˢᵉˢ ᵗᵒ
ʳᵉᵗᵘʳᶰ ᵇᵃᶜᵏˑ ᴼᵖᵉᶰᶤᶰᵍ ʰᶤˢ ᵉʸᵉ˒ ʰᶤˢ ˢᶤᵍʰᵗ
ᵇˡᵘʳʳʸ˒ ᵛᶤˢᶤᵒᶰ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᶜˡᵉᵃʳ ᵗᵒˑ
ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ˢᶤᵍʰˢ ᶤᶰ ʳᵉˡᶤᵉᶠˑ "ᵂʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃᵐ ᴵˑˑˑ"
ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵐᵃᶰᵃᵍᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵃˢᵏ˒ ᵇᵘᵗ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ
ᵒᵘᵗ ˢˡᵘʳʳᵉᵈˑ "ᴼʰ˒ ˢʰᵉˡᵈᵒᶰ; ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉᵎ"
ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ˢᵃʸˢ ʳᵉˡᶤᵉᵛᵉᵈˑ ᴴᶤˢ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗˢ
ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ʲᵘᵐᵇˡᵉᵈ˒ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᶤᶰᶜᵒʰᵉʳᵉᶰᵗˡʸ
ᵗʳᶤᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵃʳᵗᶤᶜᵘˡᵃᵗᵉ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗˑ "ᵂʰᵃˑˑˑ"
"ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰˀ" ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵇᵃᵈ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵃˡˢᵒ
ᶜᵒᶰᶜᵉʳᶰᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃᶰᵈ'ˢ ᵈᵃᶻᵉᵈˑ
ᴴᵉ'ˢ ᵘᶰᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃʸ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ ˡᵒᶰᵍᵉʳ
ˢᵒ ʰᵉ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉᵈ ʰᶤˢ ᵉʸᵉ˒ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᶰᵒᵗᶤᶜᵉᵈˑ
ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵏᶰᵉʷ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᶰᵉᵉᵈᶤᶰᵍ ʳᵉˢᵗ ˢᵒ ˢʰᵉ
ˡᵉᵗ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰˑ ᴴᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃᶰᵈ ᶰᵉˣᵗ ʷᵒᵏᵉ
ᵃˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵈᶤˢᶜᵒᶰᶰᵉᶜᵗᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒᶰᶤᵗᵒʳˑ
"ᵂʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉᶰᶤᶰᵍˀ" ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ˢᵃʸˢˑ
"ᵞᵉˢᵗᵉʳᵈᵃʸ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵇᵃᵈˡʸ ʰᵘʳᵗˑ" ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ
ᵃᶰˢʷᵉʳˢˑ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵗʳᶤᵉᵈ ˢᶤᵗᵗᶤᶰᵍ ᵘᵖˑ "ᴼʷˑˑ"
ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ˡᵉᵃᶰᵉᵈ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵈᵒʷᶰ ᵃᵍᵃᶤᶰ
ᵖᵘᵗᵗᶤᶰᵍ ʰᶤˢ ʰᵃᶰᵈ ᵒᶰ ᵗᵒ ʰᶤˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈˑ
"ᵂʰʸ'ˢˑˑˑ" "ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉᶰ ᶤᶰʲᵘʳᵉᵈᵎ"
"ᴴᵘʳᵗ; ᶤᶰʲᵘʳᵉᵈˀ" ᴴᵉ ˢᵃʸˢ ᵗʳʸᶤᶰᵍ ᵗᵒ
ᶠᶤᵍᵘʳᵉ ᵒᵘᵗˑ "ᵞᵉˢ ᵐʸ ᵈᵉᵃʳˑ" ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ
ᵗᵒˡᵈˑ "ᴵᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉᶰᵉᵈ ʷʰᵉᶰ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵉᶰᵗ
ᵗᵒ ᵗʳʸ ᵃᶰᵈ ˢᵗᵉᵃˡ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ ᶤᶰᵍʳᵉᵈᶤᵉᶰᵗˢˑˑ"
ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ˢʰᵒʷᶰ ᶰᵒ ᶤᶰᵈᶤᶜᵃᵗᶤᵒᶰ ᵒᶠ ʳᵉᶜᵒˡˡᵉᶜᵗᶤᵒᶰ
ᶰᵒʳ ᵘᶰᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵃᶰᵈᶤᶰᵍ ʷʰᵃᵗ ˢʰᵉ ᶰᵒʷ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˢᵃᶤᵈˑ
"ᴮᵘᵗ ʰᵒʷ'ᵈ ᴵ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰᵘʳᵗˀ" "ᴹʳˑ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ
ᵈᵉᶜᶤᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒˑˑˑ" "ᴹʳˑ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢˀ ᵂᵃᶤᵗ ᵃʳᵉ
ʸᵒᵘ ᴹʳˑ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢˀ" ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᶠᵉᵉˡˢ ᵒᵛᵉʳ
ᵗᵃᵏᵉᶰ ᵇʸ ᶠᵉᵃʳ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈˑ
"ᴺᵒ ˢʷᵉᵉᵗˢ; ᴹʳˑ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᶤˢ ᶰᵒᵗ ʷᶤᵗʰ ᵘˢˑ"
ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵐᵃᶰᵃᵍᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʰᶤᵐ˒ ʰᵒᵖᶤᶰᵍ ʷʰᵃᵗ
ᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵃᵐᶰᵉˢᶤᵃ ᶤˢ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵗᵉᵐᵖᵒʳᵃʳʸ ᶠᵒʳ ʰᶤᵐˑ
"ᴵ'ᵐ ᶤᶰ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʷᶤᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘ; ᵐʸ ᶰᵃᵐᵉ'ˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰˑ"
'ᴬᵗ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ ʰᵉ ˢᵘʳᵛᶤᵛᵉᵈ' ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗˑ
"ᵞᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ˢᵒ ᶰᶤᶜᵉ˒ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵗʰᵃᶰᵏˢ; ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ
ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰᵎ" ᴴᵉ ˢᵐᶤˡᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ʰᵉʳˑ
ᴺᵒʷ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵏᶰᵉʷ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃᶰᵈ'ˢ ᶰᵒᵗ
ᵏᵉᵉᶰ ᵒᶰ ᵃᶠᶠᵉᶜᵗᶤᵒᶰ˒ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢʰᵒʷˢ ᶤᵗ ᶤᶰ ʰᶤˢ
ᵒʷᶰ ˢᵘᵇᵗˡᵉ ʷᵃʸˢˑ ᴺᵒʷ ʰᵉᵃʳᶤᶰᵍ ʰᶤᵐ
ᵃᶜᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ˢᵃʸ ᶤᶰ ᵃ ˢᶤᶰᶜᵉʳᵉ ᵐᵃᶰᶰᵉʳˑˑˑ
"ᴵ'ᵐ ᵍˡᵃᵈ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉˡᵖ ʸᵒᵘˑ" "ᵞᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉˀ ᴮᵘᵗ ʸᵉᵗ
ᴵ ᵈᵒᶰ'ᵗ ᵗʰᶤᶰᵏ ʷᵉ ᵏᶰᵒʷ ᵉᵃᶜʰ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵃᶰᵈˑˑˑ"
"ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ ᴵ ᵏᶰᵒʷ ʷʰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉᵎ
ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵍᶰᶤˢᵉ ᵐᵉ˒ ᵃᵗ ᵃˡˡˀ" ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᶜʳᶤᵉˢˑ
"ᴵ''ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ; ᵈᵒᶰ'ᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗᵎ ᴵ ʷᵃᶰᵗ ᵗᵒ
ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃᶰᵈ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ˢᵒ ᶰᶤᶜᵉᵎ"
"ᴵᵗ'ˢ ᶰᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠᵃᵘˡᵗ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ; ˡᵉᵗ'ˢ ʲᵘˢᵗ
ᵗʰᶤᶰᵏ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵛᵉʳʸˑ ᵞᵒᵘʳ ʷᵉˡˡ
ᵇᵉᶤᶰᵍ ʷᶤˡˡ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ᵐᵉ ʰᵃᵖᵖʸˑ ᑦᵃᶰ ʸᵒᵘ
ᵈᵒ ᶠᵒʳ ᵐᵉˀ" "ᴵ ᵍᵘᵉˢˢ ˢᵒ; ᶤᵗ'ˢ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ
ᴵ ᶜᵃᶰ ᵈᵒˑˑ" ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ˢᵉᵗᵗˡᵉᵈ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵈᵒʷᶰˑ
ᵂʰᵉᶰᶜᵉ ʰᵉ'ˢ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖᶤᶰᵍ˒ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᶜᵃˡˡˢ ˢᵃᶰᵈʸˑ
ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰᵉʳ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸ ᵈᵉᵗᵃᶤˡˑ "ᵀʰᵉ ᵉˣᵗᵉᶰᵗ ᵒᶠ
ʷʰᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵃʸ ᵐᵃᵏᵉˢ ᵐᵉ ᵗʰᶤᶰᵏ ʰᵉ'ˢ ˢᶜᵃᵗᵗᵉʳ
ᵇʳᵃᶤᶰᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ʳᶤᵍʰᵗ ᶰᵒʷ˒ ʷᶤᵗʰ ᵗᵉᵐᵖᵒʳᵃʳᶤˡʸ ˡᵒˢᵗ
ʰᶤˢ ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳʸˑ ᴮᵘᵗ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ʰᵉᵃˡˢ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵗᶤᵐᵉ
ᴵ ᵇᵉᵗ ʰᵉ'ˡˡ ᵇᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵇʸ ᶰᵉˣᵗ ʷᵉᵉᵏᵎ ᴮᵘᵗ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ʰᵉ
ᶰᵉᵉᵈˢ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᶤᵗ ᵉᵃˢʸ ʷᶤᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ᵃᶰʸ ˢᵗʳᵉˢˢˑˑˑ"
"ˢᵃᶰᵈʸ ᵗʰᵃᶰᵏ ʸᵒᵘᵎ" ᴴᵉ ᶰᵉˣᵗ ʷᵒᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ ᵗʰᵉ
ᶰᵉˣᵗ ᵈᵃʸˑ "ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰˀ" "ᵀᵃᵏᵉ ᶤᵗ ᵉᵃˢʸ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰˑ"
"ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸˑˑ" ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ˡᶤᵏᵉᵈ ʰᶤˢ ˢʷᵉᵉᵗᶰᵉˢˢ
ᵇᵘᵗ ᵏᶰᵉʷ ᶤᵗ'ˢ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵒᶠ ʰᶤˢ ʰᵘʳᵗ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵉˑ
ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵈᵉᶜᶤᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵖᵃʸ ᵃ ᵛᶤˢᶤᵗ ᵗᵒ
ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗˑ "ᴴᶤ˒ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰᵎ" "ᴴᵘʰˀ"
"ᴵ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʸᵒᵘᵎ" "ᴹʳˑ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢˀ ᴺᵒᵎ"
"ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇˀ" "ᴵ ᶜᵃᶰᵗᵎ"
"ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰˑˑˑ" "ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ʰᵒʷ'ˢ ʰᵉ ᵏᶰᵒʷ ᵐᵉˀ"
"ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʰᵉ ᵈᶤᵈ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘˑ ᴮᵘᵗ ʷᵃᶤᵗ
ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵈᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ʳᵉᶜᵃˡˡˀ" "ᴺᵒᵗʰᶤᶰᵍᵎ ᴮᵘᵗ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ˢᵃᶤᵈ
ˢʰᵉ'ˢ ᶤᶰ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʷᶤᵗʰ ᵐᵉ˒ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵈᵒᶰ'ᵗ ᵏᶰᵒʷ ʰᵉʳᵎ"
"ᵞᵒᵘ ᵈᵒᶰ'ᵗ ᵏᶰᵒʷ ʰᵉʳˀ ᴮᵘᵗ ˢʰᵉ'ˢ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʷᶤᶠᵉᵎ"
ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʷ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ'ˢ ᶰᵒʷ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᶤᶰᵍ
ᵗᵒ ᶜʳʸˑ "ᴴᵉʸ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᵃᵗ ᵐᵉˑ ᴶᵘˢᵗ
ᵠᵘᶤᶜᵏˑ" ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵃᵗ ʰᶤᵐˑ "ᵂᵉ
ᵏᶰᵒʷ˒ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ʰᵘʳᵗᶤᶰᵍ ᵃᶰᵈ ᶤᵗ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ʸᵒᵘ
ᶠᵒʳᵍᵉᵗ ᵇᵘᵗ˒ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵈᵒᶤᶰᵍ ᵃʷᵉˢᵒᵐᵉˑ ᴶᵘˢᵗ
ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰᵉˑ ᴵ ᵗʰᶤᶰᵏ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃᵐᵃᶻᶤᶰᵍˑ ᴳᵒᵗ ᶤᵗˀ"
ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᶰᵒᵈᵈᵉᵈˑ "ᴴᵉ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ᶤˢ ᶤᶰ ᶰᵉᵉᵈ
ᵒᶠ ʳᵉˢᵗ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ; ᶜᵃᶰ ᶜᵃˡˡ ᵃˢ ʰᶤˢ
ᶤᶰʲᵘʳᶤᵉˢ ʰᵉᵃˡ˒ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵗʰᵉᶰ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃᶰ ʰᵉˡᵖˑ"
ᵂʰᵉᶰᶜᵉ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˡᵉᶠᵗ˒ ˢʰᵉ ᵏᶰᵉʷ
ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵐᶤᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵒᵛᵉʳʷʰᵉˡᵐᵉᵈˑ
ᴴᵉ ˢˡᵉᵖᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶰᵉˣᵗ ᵐᵒʳᶰᶤᶰᵍ˒ ʰᶤˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ
ᶰᵒᵗ ʰᵘʳᵗᶤᶰᵍ ᵃˢ ᵇᵃᵈ ᵃˢ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉˑ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ᶰᵒᵗ
ᵗᵒᵗᵃˡˡʸ ᵍᵒᶰᵉ˒ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵃ ᵐᵃʲᵒʳᶤᵗʸ ᵒᶠ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ
ᶤᶰᶠˡᵃᵐᵐᵃᵗᶤᵒᶰ ᵈʷᶤᶰᵈˡᵉᵈ˒ ʳᵉˡᶤᵉᵛᶤᶰᵍ ˢᵒᵐᵉ
ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʳᵉˢˢᵘʳᵉˑ ᴴᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ʳᵉᶜᵃˡˡ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸ
ᵗʰᶤᶰᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ʰᶤᵐˢᵉˡᶠ˒ ᶰᵒᵗ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʷᵒʳᵈ ᵒᶠ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰˑ
ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ʰᵉ ʰᵃʳᵈˡʸ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳᵉᵈ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʷᵉᶰᵗ ᵒᶰ
ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵈʳᶤᶠᵗᵉᵈ ᶤᶰ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵒᶰˢᶜᶤᵒᵘˢᶰᵉˢˢ
ˢᶤᶰᶜᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᶤᶰᶜᶤᵈᵉᶰᵗ˒ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃᶰ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉˑ
"ᴴᶤ ˢʷᵉᵉᵗˢˑˑ" ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ'ˢ ᵍʳᵉᵉᵗᶤᶰᵍ ʰᶤᵐ ᶰᵒʷˑ
ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵏᶰᵉʷ ʰᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ʰᵘʳᵗ˒ ᵃˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ'ˢ
ᵘᶰᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʰᵒʷ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᶤᵐᵖʳᵒᵛᵉᵈ
ʷᶤᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ᶜᵒᶰᵛᵉʳˢᵃᵗᶤᵒᶰˑ "ᴳᵒᵒᵈ ᵐᵒʳᶰᶤᶰᵍˑˑ"
"ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʸᵉˢᵗᵉʳᵈᵃʸ˒ ʷᶤᵗʰ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉ
ᵇᵒᵇ ᶰᵒᵗ ᵏᶰᵒʷᶤᶰᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉˣᵗᵉᶰᵗˑ ᴮᵘᵗ ˢᵒ ᵍˡᵃᵈ
ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ʳᵉᶜᵘᵖᵉʳᵃᵗᶤᶰᵍᵎ" "ᵀʰᵃᶰᵏ ʸᵒᵘ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰˑ"
"ᴼᶠ ᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ; ʷᵉ'ˡˡ ᶠᶤᵍᵘʳᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸ
ᵗʰᶤᶰᵍ ᵗᵒᵍᵉᵗʰᵉʳˑ ᴶᵘˢᵗ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵗᶤᵐᵉˑ"
"ᴰᵒᵉˢ ᴹʳˑ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵏᶰᵒʷˑˑˑ" "ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵍᵒᵗ
ʸᵒᵘ ᶤᵐᵐᵉᵈᶤᵃᵗᵉˡʸ ᵒᵘᵗ˒ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ᵈᶤᵈ
ᶤᶰᵗᵉᶰᵈ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃʳᵐˑ" ᴬᶰˢʷᵉʳᵉᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰˑ
"ᴵ'ᵐ ᵃˢˢᵘᵐᶤᶰᵍ ᴵ ᶠᵃᶤˡᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶤᶰᵍʳᵉᵈᶤᵉᶰᵗˢˑˑ"
ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᶤᶰ ʰᵉʳ ᵗʳᵃᶜᵏˢˑ "ᵞᵒᵘˑˑˑ"
"ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵍᶤᵛᵉ ᵐʸˢᵉˡᶠ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵗᶤᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉˢᵗ
ᵇᵘᵗ ʷʰᵉᶰᶜᵉ ᴵ'ᵐ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ˒ ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵇᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏᵎ"
ˢʰᵉ ᵏᶰᵉʷ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᵖᵘˡˡ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰˑ 𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀: <𝟭𝗸

new Karen/Sheldon J. Plankton POV Karen Karen (SpongeBob) amnesia mention wordcount: 500-1.000 unreliable memory temporary brain trauma coping pod

He'd done plenty of schemes in the past.

"My back hurts, Karen" he whined one evening. The computer let out a metallic groan as her lover flopped onto the ground dramatically.

"Has anyone ever told you that you crave attention"

"No, Karen, they haven't" he cut her off with a roll of his eye before wincing again. The middle of his spine felt like rocks pressing up on his nerves and muscles, making the whole site burn and ache. "Ow..."

"What would you like me to do, Sheldon?" she asked with a roll of her eyes. Plankton's lip quivered.

"Hold me?"

"Lord..." Karen grumbled before setting down her screen stand and walking over to where her husband was sprawled on the floor like a starfish. With another hearty roll of her eyes, she lied down next to him on the ground and wrapped an arm around him. He relaxed slightly at the contact. "Is this helping, big guy?"

Plankton smiled wider than he had in a long time and nodded earnestly as he curled into her as much as he could.

new Mild Hurt/Comfort Karen/Sheldon J. Plankton Karen (SpongeBob) wordcount: 100-500 spongebob fanfic sheldon j. plankton

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⡀⣠⠄⢄⣀⡀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠤⣒⣮⣿⡷⠿⠿⠟⠿⠿⣶⣕⢄
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⣄⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⢔⣪⣷⠿⢛⠩⡰⢈⢒⠡⠚⡄⠓⡌⠻⣧
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣾⣦⠀⢀⢤⣖⣮⣭⣭⣭⣔⣲⢄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⢔⣽⡾⠟⢋⡔⢌⠢⡑⢢⠑⡌⣘⠡⢌⠱⡈⠥⣿
⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿⣿⣯⣿⠿⠛⡩⢉⡌⢩⢉⠛⢿⣮⣖⢄⠀⢀⢴⣺⡾⠟⡩⡐⡉⠆⡌⢢⠑⡌⢢⠑⡌⢄⠣⢌⠢⡑⠌⣿
⠀⠀⢠⣾⣿⣿⣷⣱⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⣮⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢋⡔⢨⠑⡌⣡⠘⡄⢊⠱⣈⠋⢿⣿⣷⣿⡟⢋⠔⡡⡑⠤⡑⠬⡐⢡⠊⡔⢡⠊⡔⢊⠔⡌⢢⠑⣼⡟
⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⢴⣮⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣻⣿⣿⠟⡄⢣⠈⢆⠱⡐⢄⠣⡘⢌⠱⢠⠉⢆⠹⣿⣇⡘⠢⠜⡠⢑⠢⡑⢢⢁⠣⡘⢌⠢⠱⡈⠦⡘⠄⢃⣾⣏⠖
⠀⠀⠀⢙⣿⣿⣿⣷⣕⠤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⢔⣪⣶⣿⣿⣿⣟⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⠋⡔⠡⠆⣽⡀⢣⠘⡄⢣⠘⡄⢣⠂⡍⠸⢄⢻⣿⡆⢍⠢⡑⢌⠢⡑⢢⢁⠣⡘⢄⠣⢡⠑⢢⠑⣬⡿⡫⠃⠀
⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣷⣮⣢⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣴⣾⣾⣿⣿⣿⡿⣟⣷⣿⣻⣷⣿⡿⠃⢜⡨⡑⢌⣿⡇⠣⠜⡠⢃⠜⡠⢃⠜⡠⢍⠢⠌⣿⣿⠠⢃⠜⡠⢃⠜⡠⢊⠱⡈⢆⠱⣈⢃⣦⡿⣏⠛⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣕⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣻⣽⣿⠿⠛⠛⢿⣿⡿⠛⠛⠻⣷⣌⠢⣿⣿⡐⠣⡔⢡⠊⡔⢡⠊⡔⡈⢆⡉⢿⣿⠠⢃⠜⡠⢃⠜⡠⢃⠆⡱⢈⢒⣤⣿⣯⠓⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿⣷⣿⣿⣽⡿⣿⣿⣷⣕⢄⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⣀⣀⠀⡀⣸⣿⣿⣿⢿⣾⣿⢿⣿⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⡐⡉⢿⣷⡱⡈⢆⠱⡈⢆⠱⡐⡑⠢⢌⣿⣿⢨⡁⢎⠰⡁⢎⠰⡁⢎⣰⣵⣿⡫⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⣽⣷⡿⣷⣿⢯⣿⣿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣭⣭⣵⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣾⣿⢿⣿⣄⡀⢰⠞⠉⠙⣦⠀⢠⣾⢣⠰⢡⠂⠽⣿⣷⣌⠢⡑⢌⠢⢅⡩⣑⣾⣿⠃⣇⠘⡄⢣⠘⠤⢓⣼⣾⢟⠕⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⣮⣿⣿⣯⣿⣾⢿⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⡿⣿⢿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡿⣿⣽⣾⣿⣿⠋⠀⠈⠳⠤⠴⠋⠀⠀⠹⣧⠃⡅⡋⡔⡠⢙⠿⣿⣾⣦⣷⣦⣷⡿⠟⡁⠎⡄⢣⠘⣦⣽⣾⢿⡻⠊⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⢰⣹⣿⣿⣽⣷⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣯⣿⣾⢿⣾⣷⣿⢿⣿⢿⣿⣯⣿⢿⣿⡿⣯⣿⣟⣯⣿⣿⣿⣄⠀⠀⢀⣠⣦⣀⠀⠀⣰⡿⢠⢑⠢⠔⡡⢃⠒⡰⢌⢩⠉⡍⠴⡐⢡⢊⠱⡈⢆⡉⢿⣿⡷⡁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⢸⣿⣿⣯⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣾⣿⣻⣽⡿⣿⣻⣾⢿⣿⣯⣿⣷⣿⣻⣿⣯⣿⢿⣯⣿⣿⣿⠟⡠⠛⣛⠛⠫⠥⢨⠙⡛⢛⠩⠔⡡⢊⠔⡡⢆⠱⠨⠔⡈⢆⠱⡈⢆⡑⢢⠡⢒⠡⢂⠜⡄⢛⢷⣮⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠙⢝⡻⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣳⣿⣟⣷⣿⣟⣿⣿⣟⣿⢿⣿⣻⣾⣟⣷⡿⣟⣷⣿⣻⣿⣻⣽⣿⠣⡜⢄⠣⢄⠩⢃⠬⡁⢎⠰⡉⢆⡑⠆⡅⠎⡔⢌⠂⢇⡡⠣⢌⠢⡑⢢⠘⡄⠣⢌⠡⢃⠜⡨⠌⡜⢻⣷⢆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⢼⣿⣿⣿⣻⣿⡿⠛⠉⠁⠀⠀⠉⠙⠻⣿⣿⣻⣿⣽⣿⣻⣿⢿⣻⣽⣿⣻⣽⣿⢇⢣⠘⡄⠣⢌⠒⡩⢐⠡⢊⠔⡡⢂⠜⡰⢈⠖⡈⢆⡉⢆⠰⡑⢌⠢⡑⢢⠑⡌⠱⣈⠱⢌⠢⡑⢌⠰⡉⢿⣿⢆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣻⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠹⣿⣿⣽⣿⣾⣟⣿⡿⣿⣻⣽⣿⣿⡏⡐⢎⠰⣈⠱⡈⠜⢤⢉⠲⢁⣎⣰⣡⣮⣴⣥⣮⣴⣦⣜⣌⣢⡑⢌⢢⠑⡢⠑⡌⠱⣀⠣⢌⠢⡑⢌⠢⠱⡈⣿⡼⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣽⡿⣿⠀⣰⣶⡆⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣧⠀⣿⣿⣿⢾⣯⣿⢿⣽⣿⣟⣯⣿⣿⡇⡕⣈⠒⡄⠣⣜⢸⣤⣶⠿⠟⠛⠉⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠉⠙⠛⠿⢶⣧⣅⣣⢘⡡⢂⡱⢈⠆⡱⢈⡒⠥⡑⣸⣷⢧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⣿⣆⠹⠟⠃⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⢁⣼⣿⣿⣾⣿⣟⣿⣿⣻⣷⡿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠣⣄⠣⣘⣵⣾⠟⠉⢀⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠻⢷⣦⣃⢔⠣⡘⢄⠣⡘⣑⢢⢹⣿⣏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⣿⣿⣿⣽⣾⡿⣽⣿⣷⣶⣶⣀⣟⣿⣀⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠉⠉⠉⠛⣿⢿⣿⣿⣽⣿⣇⠱⢄⢣⣽⡟⠁⠀⣴⣿⣿⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣮⣗⡌⢢⡑⠒⡌⢢⢭⣿⢧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⢿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⠟⠛⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⣧⠃⠀⠙⠻⣿⣿⡌⢢⢹⡿⠀⠀⠰⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣶⣶⣄⠈⢻⣎⠇⡌⡱⢈⠆⣼⣿⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⢸⣿⣿⣾⠟⣟⣤⡀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠻⢷⠿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠈⢻⣷⡁⢾⣇⠀⠀⠀⠙⠻⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠖⠲⣤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⢻⣧⠘⡅⡊⣴⣿⢻⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠸⣿⣿⡏⠀⢸⣿⣿⣷⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⢿⣿⣿⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣎⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠶⠶⠛⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⣿⠘⡄⢳⣾⢿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⢹⣿⣇⠀⠘⣿⣿⣿⠟⠀⢠⡴⠶⣤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢈⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⢦⣀⣀⣴⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⠐⣬⣿⢯⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠺⢿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢙⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⠴⢤⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⠿⠛⠿⣶⣤⣄⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⠶⢻⣿⠟⠳⢦⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⣧⡾⣟⠔⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠍⡷⣦⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣹⠶⢶⣾⠙⢧⠈⣷⡾⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⣾⣿⣿⣏⡀⠀⢀⣤⡿⢋⡙⢛⠻⠿⡷⣶⠟⠀⢸⣿⠉⠁⠀⠀⠹⣇⣀⣀⣀⣀⣠⣤⣴⣾⣟⠿⠙⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠽⣻⢶⣤⣴⠋⠀⠀⠀⠈⢻⡟⢋⣁⣀⣀⣤⣤⣶⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣦⣅⡘⢢⡑⢢⣽⣿⠀⠀⠸⣇⣀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⡛⢛⢋⠛⡩⣉⠻⣷⣽⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⢺⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⠀⠀⠈⠉⢻⣏⠀⠈⠉⠉⣟⠻⢷⡾⠛⠉⠈⠀⠀⠀⢹⣅⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠻⣦⣉⣢⣵⣶⣿⣻⠗⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣷⡤⣰⠶⢶⣿⣿⠿⠟⠋⠁⠀⠙⢻⣿⣾⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢻⣤⡀⠀⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠟⠋⢻⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠋⠉⢡⣿⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢫⣷⠹⠶⠾⠋⠀⠀⠀⣄⠀⠀⠀⢺⣥⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣶⣿⠳⣄⣀⠀⠀⣀⣠⠞⠁⠀⠀⠀⠙⠷⣤⣀⣀⣀⣠⡴⠛⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠫⢗⣦⢤⣤⣤⣶⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣸⣿⠀⠈⠉⠉⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⡅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠙⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⢿⣿⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⠛⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣻⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⠐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣟⣿⡦⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⡇⢸⡷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⢹⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⢠⣿⡄⠀⢀⣀⡀⡀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣵⠾⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⣸⠇⠀⠀⠚⠋⠉⠉⠀⠛⢿⣯⡿⠂⠉⠉⠉⠛⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⠾⠋⠀⠹⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣼⡯⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠪⠽⢶⡶⠖⠲⠛⠛⠛⠛⢛⣿⣋⣡⣀⣀⣀⢀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠶⣦⣤⣤⣤⠶⠞⠋⠙⠻⢦⣤⣤⣤⣤⣶⠾⠛⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠈⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠁⠁⠁⠁⠉⠁⠈⠉⠉⠉⠒⠒⠈⠈⠉⠐⠊⠉⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

new ii twain kk dot art text art ascii art

COMPUTER SENSORS ii

* * ᴬˢ ᵃ ⁿᵉᵘʳᵒᵈⁱᵛᵉʳᵍᵉⁿᵗ ʷʳⁱᵗᵉʳ ᴵ ᵈᵒ
ⁿᵒᵗ ᵐᵉᵃⁿ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗⁱᵍᵐᵃᵗⁱᶻᵉ ᵃⁿʸ ᵗʸᵖᵉ
ᵒᶠ ᵈⁱˢᵃᵇⁱˡⁱᵗʸ ⁿᵒʳ ᶜᵒᵐᵐᵘⁿⁱᵗʸ ᵃˢ ᵃ
ʷʰᵒˡᵉ‧ ᔆᵒᵐᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ⸴ ᴵ ᵘˢᵉ ᵃⁿ ᴬᴵ
ᵍᵉⁿᵉʳᵃᵗᵒʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʷᵉᵃᵏ ᵗʰᵉ ʷʳⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ  *

"Plankton?" Hanna's voice called. "You've been in there for a while."
But there was no response from the bedroom. Karen's smile faded 
as she heard the silence. She knew her husband well enough to 
recognize when he'd reached his limit. She excused herself and went to check.
Plankton was indeed on the bed, his eye squeezed shut. His body was rigid 
breathing shallow. Karen ached for him; she knew he was in the throes of sensory overload. 

Karen approached the bed gently, not wanting to startle him. She sat down beside him 
and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, Plankton," she said softly. "You ok?"

He didn't move, didn't speak. He just lay there, a tense coil of discomfort. Karen knew 
to recognize the signs of his overwhelm. The way he curled tightly around his body, the 
shallow breaths that spoke of his struggle to regain control. He was in his own world 
now, one where the bombardment of Hanna's sounds and touch had become too much.

"Plankton," she said again, her voice a gentle whisper in the room. "You don't have to be 
out there if you don't want to."

The touches, the sounds, Hanna— all too much.

Karen's expression filled with understanding. "It's alright," she assured him, her hand gently 
rubbing his back. "You don't have to force it."

Plankton nodded, his body slowly relaxing under her touch. He let out a sigh.

Karen knew Plankton's not one for crowded spaces or unexpected physical contact.

"Hey, guys, everything ok in here?" Hanna's voice was cheerful, but there was a hint 
of concern that had crept in. She searched the room, her gaze landing on Plankton's 
rigid form. Her smile faltered for a second, a flicker of confusion crossing her features. "Is he ok?"

"He's... overwhelmed," Karen said. She knew Hanna didn't mean any harm, but she also 
knew her friend's boundless enthusiasm could be to much for Plankton to handle. 

Hanna's expression grew more puzzled. "What's there to be overwhelmed about?" 
Her curiosity piqued. "What's going on with you Plankton?" she asked, taking a step closer 
to the bed.

Plankton jolted slightly, but he remained silent, eye still closed.

"I don't get it.."

Karen took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "Plankton's a bit... sensitive 
to stimulation," she began. "He needs his quiet time. Nothing against you, Hanna; just how he is."

Hanna grew more concerned. "But I didn't mean to," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. 
"I just wanted to have a good time."

Karen patted Plankton's shoulder, her screen never leaving his face. "It's not you, Hanna," she 
assured. "It's just that to much noise, touch, all just gets to be to much for him."

"How?"

"Some people need more space than others. It's not a reflection on you or your company." 
"But I don't get it," Hanna said, her voice quiet. "What did I do?"

"You didn't do anything wrong," Karen assured her, her hand still resting on Plankton's shoulder. 
"It's just that Plankton's sensory input is overwhelmed easily."

Hanna looked from Karen to Plankton, full of questions. "But I didn't do anything weird; did I?" 

"No," she said, her voice calm and soothing. "It's just that Plankton isn't much... physical affection 
from anyone but me. And even then, it's on his terms."

Hanna's expression softened, starting to reach out to gently touch Plankton's arm.

"Don't," Karen said, placing a hand over hers to stop her.

Hanna's hand hovered in mid-air, and she looked at Karen with confusion.

Karen took a deep breath. "Plankton needs his space to recharge. And when it comes to physical 
touch, it's something that's... it's not something he's comfortable with, from just anyone."

Hanna nods, her gaze still on Plankton. "But, you?" 

"We've found a balance that works for us. But it's something that took time to figure out. And 
even then, there are days when he needs more space than usual."

Hanna nodded. "But he didn't say anything," she murmured. "I didn't know."

"It's not something he talks about. He tries to be strong, to handle it, but sometimes it's just to much for him."

"Why does he not flinch if you touch him, if it's sensory?" Hanna asked.

Karen sighed. "It's complicated. I've known him for a long time, and we've built a level of trust. He's comfortable 
with my touch. But even then, it's a balancing act of knowing when he needs more and 
or when he needs less."

Hanna nodded, her gaze thoughtful as she took a step back from the bed. "I had no idea," she 
murmured. "How long does it take for him to..."

"It varies," Karen said. "Sometimes it's just minutes, other times can be hours."

"Is he going to remember us talking right now?" Hanna asked.

"It's hard to say," Karen replied, her gaze still on Plankton. "When he's like this, he's kind of... in 
his own world. Sometimes he's aware, sometimes he's not. It's like he's not present. The best 
thing is to just give him space," Karen said. "Let him come out of it on his own time. Sometimes 
talking to him helps, but not always."

Hanna nodded. "I didn't mean to... I didn't know," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. 
"I just wanted to make him feel included."

Karen gave her a small, understanding smile. "It's alright, Hanna," she said. "You couldn't have 
known. Just remember, Plankton needs space, and for us to respect that."

Hanna nodds, her gaze still on Plankton. "So, how does he act coming out of it?" 

"It depends," Karen said, her hand still on Plankton's shoulder. "Sometimes he's a bit groggy, other 
times he's just... tired. And sometimes he's a bit snappy."

"What will he remember?" 

"Probably not much," Karen said, her voice low. "When he's like this, the world kind of... washes 
over him. He might remember snippets, but it's all pretty fuzzy."

Hanna nods. "How do I show him I care?" 

"Just being a friend—that means the world to him. But sometimes, the best way to show you 
care is to give him the space he needs."

"But I don't want him to think I'm ignoring him."

"You're not," Karen assured her, her voice gentle. "Just be mindful of his own boundaries. 
Sometimes a simple 'How are you feeling?' or even showing interests in his likes, can mean 
more than any hug. It's a condition where the brain can't process all the information coming in 
from the senses at once. It's like your brain's circuits are overloaded, and you just... shut down."

Hanna nodded, her gaze thoughtful as she took this in. "Is it ok if I can ask Plankton 
questions about it?"

"Of course," Karen said, her voice gentle. "But just be mindful. He might not be up for 
a lot of talking, especially right now."

Hanna took a deep breath and approached, her movements slow and deliberate. "Plankton?" 

He didn't respond, his body still taut with tension. Hanna looked to Karen for guidance, who offered 
a smile.

"Plankton," she whispered, her voice a soft caress. "Can you hear me?"

There was no response, but Karen could feel the tension in his body ease slightly. She knew he 
was listening, even if he couldn't bring himself to respond.

"Plankton's born with a condition called sensory sensitivity," Karen began, her voice calm 
and measured. "It means that his brain has trouble interpreting and responding to all sensory 
information from his environment. It can be anything from sounds to touch."

"So, like, when we were watching the movie, and I was all over the place with my feelings, that 
was probably a bit much for him?"

"Exactly," Karen said, her voice gentle. "Everything's just... too much for him sometimes."

Hanna's eyes searched Plankton's face, looking for any sign of discomfort. "But he didn't say any
thing," she said, her voice barely a whisper.

"He tries not to," Karen said, her eyes never leaving her husband. "He doesn't like to make a fuss. 
But when it gets to be too much, he just kind of... shuts down."

"But how do you know when it's too much?" she asked, her voice filled with concern.

"It's subtle," Karen said, her eyes still on Plankton. "He'll get tense, his breathing will change, bad 
mood, his eye might glaze over a bit. And when he gets really overwhelmed, he just... withdraws."

"So, I shouldn't have grabbed his hand during the movie?" she asked, her voice filled with regret.

"It's ok," Karen said, her voice soothing. "You didn't know. Just remember for next time."

Hanna nodded. "But what if I miss the signs?" she asked, her voice filled with concern.

"It's ok," Karen said, her voice soothing. "We're all learning. Just remember to be patient and pay 
attention. And if you're ever unsure, just ask."

Hanna nodded, her hand now resting gently on the bed next to Plankton. "I'm sorry Plankton," she 
whispered.

He didn't move, but Karen could see the tension in his body start to ease a bit more. She knew he 
heard Hanna, even if he couldn't respond.

"Don't worry, Plankton," Hanna said, her voice gentle. "I'll be more careful next time. I didn't mean to 
make you uncomfortable."

Karen watched as Plankton's antennae slowly twitched, his breathing evening out as he began to 
come back to the world around him. It's a slow process, one Karen knew well. She gave Hanna a 
nod, a silent thank you for her understanding.

"Why don't you go grab us board games, Hanna?" Karen suggested, voice low. "Give him a few 
to 'wake up'."

Hanna nodded, her gaze lingering on Plankton before she turned and left the room. Karen watched 
the door close behind her before turning her attention back to Plankton. "It's ok, Plankton," she 
whispered, stroking his arm. "You're safe here."

new computer sensors Karen & Sheldon J. Plankton author is neurodivergent spacerycore ii

ˢᵠᵘᵉᵃᵏ ˢᵠᵘᵉᵃᵏ
⁽ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃᶰᶠᶤᶜ⁾
ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵈᶤᵈᶰ'ᵗ ᵏᶰᵒʷ ᴹʳˑ ˢᵠᵘᵉᵃᵏᵉʳˢ ᵍᵒᵗ ʰᶤʳᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᴹʳˑ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ
ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵉᵖ ᵒᶰ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ˒ ʷʰᵒ ᶰᵒʷ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᶤᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇˑ "ᴴᵉʸ
ᵖᵘᶰᵏᵎ" ˢᵠᵘᵉᵃᵏᵉʳˢ ˢᵃʸˢˑ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ˢᶜʳᵉᵃᵐᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜˡᵒʷᶰ ᵇᵉᵃᵗ
ʰᶤᵐ ᵘᵖ˒ ᵃˡᵉʳᵗᶤᶰᵍ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇˑ ᴴᵉ ᵇˡᵒᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵇᵘᵗ ᶰᵒᵗ ᶤᶰ
ᵗᶤᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵃᵛᵉ ʰᶤᵐˑ ᵂʰᵉᶰᶜᵉ ᴹʳˑ ˢᵠᵘᵉᵃᵏᵉʳˢ ᵈᵉᶜᶤᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵒᵖ ʰᵉ
ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉˢᵗᵃᵘʳᵃᶰᵗˑ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵗʷᶤᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ˒ ᵇᵃᵈˡʸ ᶤᶰʲᵘʳᵉᵈ˒ ᶤᶰ ᵖᵃᶤᶰˑ
ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ'ˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷᶤᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ʷᵉᶰᵗ ʷᶤᵗʰ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ
ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉᵐᵉʳᵍᵉᶰᶜʸ ᶜˡᶤᶰᶤᶜˑ "ᴴᵒʷ'ˢ ʰᵉˑˑˑ" "ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᶤᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᵖᵉʳᵃᵗᶤᶰᵍ
ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵃᶰᵈ ʷᵉ'ˡˡ ᵇʳᶤᶰᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳˑ ᴴᶤˢ ᵐᵉᵈᶤᶜᶤᶰᵉ ʷᵉ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉ
ᵗʰᶤᶰᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵏᵉᵉᵖ ʰᶤᵐ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗᵃᵇˡᵉ ʷʰᶤˡˢᵗ ᶤᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉʳʸ ᵃˢ ᵒᶠ ʳᶤᵍʰᵗ ᶰᵒʷˑ"
ᵀʰᵉ ᶜˡᶤᶰᶤᶜᶤᵃᶰ ᵉˣᵖˡᵃᶤᶰᵉᵈˑ ᴱᵛᵉᶰᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ʷᵉᶰᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃᶰᵈˑ ˢʰᵉ ˢᵃʷ
ᵃ ˢᵏᶤᶰᶰʸ ˢᵗʳᵃʷ ᵗᵘᵇᵉ ᵈᵒʷᶰ ʰᶤˢ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ˒ ʷʰᶤᶜʰ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᶰᵒʷ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᵒᵘᵗˑ ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ᶠᶤᶰᶤˢʰᶤᶰᵍ ᶤᶰ
ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉʳʸ˒ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʷᵉᶰᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵛᵉʳʸ ʳᵒᵒᵐˑ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜʳᶤᵉᵈ ˢᵉᵉᶤᶰᵍ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰˑ
"ˢᵒ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵍᵒᶰᶰᵃ ᶰᵉᵉᵈ ʳᵉˢᵗˑ ᴴᵉ'ˢ ᵍᵒᶰᶰᵃ ᵐᵒˢᵗ ˡᶤᵏᵉˡʸ ᵇᵉ ᵗᶤʳᵉᵈ˒ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵒᶠ
ˢᵒʳᵉᶰᵉˢˢ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉᵈᶤᶜᶤᶰᵉˑ ᴬˡˡ ᶰᵒʳᵐᵃˡ˒ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵐᶤᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉ ᶜᵒᶰᶠᵘˢᵉᵈ
ᵈᶤˢᵒʳᶤᵉᶰᵗᵉᵈ ˢᵒ ᶰᵒ ʰᵃʳᵈ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ᵗᶤᵐᵉˑ ᴴᵉ ᵐᶤᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉ ᶠᵒʳᵍᵉᵗᶠᵘˡ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ
ˢᵃᵐᵉ ʳᵉᵃˢᵒᶰ'ˢ ᴵ ᵐᵉᶰᵗᶤᵒᶰᵉᵈˑ ˢᵒ ᵈᵒᶰ'ᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵃˡᵃʳᵐᵉᵈ ᶤᶠ ʰᵉ ᵃᶜᵗˢ ᵃˢ ˢᵘᶜʰˑ"
"ᵀʰᵃᶰᵏˢ˒ ᵈᵒᶜˑˑˑ" ˢᵃʸˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ˒ ᶰᵒʷ ᶰᵒᵗᶤᶜᶤᶰᵍ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵒᵖᵉᶰ ʰᶤˢ ᵉʸᵉˑ
"ᵂʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃᵐ ᴵˑˑ" ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵘᵗᵗᵉʳˢˑ "ᵞᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᶠʳᵉᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ˒ ʷʰᵉᶰᶜᵉ ᶜᵃᶰ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵘᵖᵎ" ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᶠᵉˡᵗ
ʰᶤᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰᵉˡᵖᵉᵈ ˢᶤᵗᵗᶤᶰᵍ ᵘᵖˑ "ᴼʰ ˢʰᵉˡᵈᵒᶰ; ᵐᵉ ᵃᶰᵈ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᶤˡˡ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ
ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗˑ" ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰᶤᵐ ᵃˢ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵃᵛᵉᵈˑ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰᵉᵈ ˢᵉᵉᶤᶰᵍ 
ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵃᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ʰᶤᵐ˒ ˢᵒ ʰᵉ ᵈᶤᶻᶻᶤˡʸ ʷᵃᵛᵉᵈ ᵇᵃᶜᵏˑ "ᴸᵉᵗ'ˢ ˢᵗᵃᶰᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵗ ᵇᵉᵈˑ"
ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᶠᵃˡᵗᵉʳᵉᵈ˒ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᶜᵃᵘᵍʰᵗ ʰᶤᵐ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᵇᵉ ᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᶠᵃˡˡˑ "ᵂʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ʷᶤᵗʰ
ᵐʸ ˡᵉᵍˢˀ" "ᴵ ᶜᵃᶰ ᶜᵃʳʳʸ ᶤᶰˢᵗᵉᵃᵈˑ" ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ᵖᶤᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃᶰᵈ ᵘᵖˑ
"ᵂʰʸ ᵈᵒ ᴵ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ˢᵒˑˑˑ" "ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵇᵉᵃᵗᵉᶰ ᵃᶰᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒᵗ ʰᵒˢᵖᶤᵗᵃˡᶤˢᵉᵈˑ"
ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ˢᵉᵗ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵒᶰ ʰᶤˢ ᵇᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵘᶜᵏˢ ʰᶤᵐ ᶤᶰˑ "ᴵᶠ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵉˣʰᵃᵘˢᵗᵉᵈ
ᵈᵒᶰ'ᵗ ʷᵒʳʳʸˑˑˑ" "ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃᶰ ʳᵉᵃᵈ ᵐᶤᶰᵈˢˑˑˑ" ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ˢᵃᶤᵈ ˢᵒᵘᶰᵈᶤᶰᵍ ᶤᵐᵖʳᵉˢˢᵉᵈˑ
"ᴺᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃᶰ ʳᵉᵃᵈ ᵃ ᵇᵒᵒᵏ˒ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃᶰ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵃ ᶰᵃᵖˑˑˑ" ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈˑ "ᴬʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖʸˀ"
"ᵀʰᵉ ᵐᶤᶰᵈ⁻ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ ᵐᵘˢᵗ ᵏᶰᵒʷᵎ" ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵗᵒˡᵈˑ "ᵂᵉˡˡ ᴵ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵐʸ ʷᵒʳᵏ
ˢʰᶤᶠᵗ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᶜᵃᶰ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᶜˡᵒˢᶤᶰᵍ ᵗᶤᵐᵉˑˑ" ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʸˢ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉˢˑ
"ᴺᵒʷ ˢʰᵉˡᵈᵒᶰ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵗᵃʸ ᶤᶰ ᵇᵉᵈ; ᴵ'ˡˡ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ ᵒᶰ ʸᵒᵘ ᵖᵉʳᶤᵒᵈᶤᶜᵃˡˡʸˑ ᴶᵘˢᵗ ᵈᵒᶰ'ᵗ ˢᵗʳᵉˢˢˑ"
ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʷ ᴹʳˑ ˢᵠᵘᵉᵃᵏᵉʳˢ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵃʳʳᵉˢᵗᵉᵈ˒ ᵃᶰᵈ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ʳᵉˡᶤᵉᵛᵉᵈˑ ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ˡᵉᵃᵛᶤᶰᵍ ᵗʰᵉ
ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᶰᶤᵍʰᵗ˒ ʰᵉ ʷᵉᶰᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵉᶰᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉᵛᵉᶰᶤᶰᵍ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗˑ
"ᴴᵉ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ; ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃᶰ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ˢᵗᵃʸˑˑ" ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ˡᵉᵗ ʰᶤᵐ ᶤᶰˑ
"ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ; ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᴵ'ᵈ ˡᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏᶰᵒʷˑˑ" ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ʰᵉᵃʳˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ'ˢ ᵛᵒᶤᶜᵉˑ
ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰˑ "ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ʸᵒᵘ ᶰᵉᵉᵈᶰ'ᵗ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ʰᶤᵐ ᶤᶠ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᶰᵒᵗ
ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵇᵒᵗʰᵉʳᵉᵈˑˑ" "ᴵ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ʷᵉᵃʳʸˑ" "ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸˑˑ" ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵉˡˡˢ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰˑ
"ᴵ ᵈᶤᵈᶰ'ᵗ ᵏᶰᵒʷ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ˢᵠᵘᵉᵃᵏᵉʳˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ˢᵃʷ ʰᶤᵐ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗᵃᵏᵉᶰ ᵃʷᵃʸᵎ"
"ᴵᵗ'ˢ ᶰᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠᵃᵘˡᵗˑ" ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰᶤᵐˑ "ˢᵒ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ˒ ʰᵒʷ ᵈᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵉᵉˡˀ" "ᴵ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵃᶜʰᵉ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸ
ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵉˣʰᵃᵘˢᵗᵉᵈˑˑ" "ᴵ'ᵐ ᵍᵒᶤᶰᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ᶜˡᵉᵃᶰˑ" ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ˢᵃʸˢ˒ ˡᵉᵗᵗᶤᶰᵍ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵗᵃʸˑ
"ᴵ ᵃᵖᵒˡᵒᵍᶤˢᵉ ᶠᵒʳ˒ ʷᵉˡˡ˒ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏᶰᵒʷˑˑ" "ᴵ ᵏᶰᵒʷ ᵏᶤᵈˑ" "ᵞᵒᵘ ᶜᵃᶰ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᶠʳᵉᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ
ᵗᵒ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰˑˑ" ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵉᵃˡᶤˢᵉᵈ ʰᵒʷ ᵍʳᵒᵍᵍʸ ʰᵉ ˢᵉᵉᵐᵉᵈˑ "ᴵ ᶜᵃᶰ
ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ˢᵗᵃʸˑ" ᴴᵉ ᶠˡᵘᶠᶠᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᶤˡˡᵒʷˢ ᶠᵒʳ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵃᵈʲᵘˢᵗᵉᵈ ʰᶤˢ ᵇˡᵃᶰᵏᵉᵗ
ᶜᵒᵛᵉʳˢ ᵗᵒˑ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵈʳᵒʷˢʸˑ "ᴰᵒᶰ'ᵗ ᶠᶤᵍʰᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖˑ ᴵ ᵏᶰᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ ˡᶤᵏᵉ
ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ˢᵒ ʳᵉˢᵗᶤᶰᵍ ᶤˢ ᶤᵐᵖᵒʳᵗᵃᶰᵗˑ" ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗᵉᵈ ʰᶤᵐ ᵉᶰᵒᵘᵍʰ
ᶠᵒʳ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵃˡᵐ ʰᶤᵐ ᵈᵒʷᶰˑ "ᑦʰᶤˡˡᵃˣˑˑ" ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ˡᵃᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉᶰᵉʳᵍʸ ᵗᵒ ᵏᵉᵉᵖ ᵃˡᵉʳᵗˑ
ᴴᵉ'ˢ ᶜˡᵒˢᶤᶰᵍ ʰᶤˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ'ˢ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ᶠᵃˡˡᶤᶰᵍ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ˒ ˡᵘˡˡᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ
ˢᵒᵒᵗʰᶤᶰᵍ ʰᶤᵐ ᵃᶰᵈ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃʸ'ˢ ᵉᵛᵉᶰᵗˢˑ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ʷᵒʳᶰ ᵒᵘᵗ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ˢᵠᵘᵉᵃᵏᵉʳˢ
ᵃᶰᵈ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜˡᶤᶰᶤᶜ˒ ᵃˢ ʷᵉˡˡ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉᵈᶤᶜᶤᶰᵉ˒ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ'ˢ ᶰᵒʷ ᵘᶰᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ
ᶠᶤᵍʰᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢˡᵘᵐᵇᵉʳ ᶜᵒᵐᶤᶰᵍˑ ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵗᶤᵈʸᶤᶰᵍ ᵘᵖ˒ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ˢᵃʷ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶰᵒʷ
ᵍᵒᶤᶰᵍ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉʳˑ "ᴵ'ᵐ ᵍᵒᶰᶰᵃ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵒᶰ ᵒᵘᵗˑ ᴴᵉ'ˢ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ; ᵐᵘˢᵗᶰ'ᵗ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ʰᶤᵐ
ᵘᵖ ᵃᵍᵃᶤᶰˑ ᴮʸᵉᵎ" ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˡᵉᶠᵗ˒ ᵃˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᶰᵒʷ ˢᶤᵍʰᵉᵈ ᶤᶰ ʳᵉˡᶤᵉᶠˑ
ˢʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵉᵏᵉᵈ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸ ᶰᵒʷ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵗʰᵉᶰ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ˒ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏᶤᶰᵍ ᶤᶰ ᵒᶰ ʰᶤᵐ˒ ᵉᵛᵉᶰ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ
ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵈᵒᶤᶰᵍ ᶠᶤᶰᵉˑ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ˡᵉᵗ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃᶰᵈ ʳᵉˢᵗ˒ ᵉᵛᵉᶰ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ᶰᵉˣᵗ ᵐᵒʳᶰᶤᶰᵍˑ
ˢʰᵉ'ᵈ ˡᶤᵍʰᵗˡʸ ᵗᵃᵖ ʰᶤᵐ ᵍᵉᶰᵗˡʸ ᵒᶰ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈᵉʳ ᶤᶠ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰᶤᵐ ᵘᵖˑ ᴮᵘᵗ ᵃˡˡ ʷᵉᶰᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ᶰᵒʳᵐᵃˡˑ

new wordcount: 500-1.000 healing and caring SpongeBob SquarePants References Karen (SpongeBob) Background & Cameo Characters Karen & SpongeBob SquarePants squeak squeak

I love object shows🎉🎉🎉🎉

new bfdi battle for dream island ii inanimate insanity hfjone one tnm the nightly manor animatic battle itft it's time for the BFDI iii

CHIP AND FAIL vi
(Autistic author)

Karen's eyes searched Plankton's,
looking for the spark that
meant he was coming back to her.
Slowly, the panic in his gaze
faded, replaced by the familiar
look of love and confusion. "I'm
here," she said, her voice barely
above a whisper. "It's okay."

Plankton's body finally
unclenched, his muscles relaxing
under her gentle touch. The storm
in his mind was receding, leaving
behind a quiet beach of clarity.
He didn't know what had
happened, only that it was bad.

Karen knew the routine, the
dance of calming Plankton after
a meltdown. But Chip didn't know.
He was just trying to share his
excitement, to reconnect with
his father after a week apart.
He didn't know that his touch, his
laughter, his stories, were all too
much for Plankton to handle.

As Karen worked to bring
Plankton back to reality, she
couldn't help but feel a pang of
sorrow for Chip. He had no idea
how his love was received, no way
to understand that his actions
could cause such pain. She had to
find a way to explain, to help
both her husband and her son find
a way to connect without setting
off the sensory bombs that lurked
just beneath the surface.

"K-Karen?" Plankton murmurs
as he slowly returns to himself.
The room stops spinning, the noises
dulling to a gentle hum. He looks
around, confusion etched in every line
of his face.

"You're okay," she whispers.
Her heart breaks for her husband,
for the silent battles he fights
every day. She knows Chip
doesn't understand, that his love
and excitement are a minefield
for Plankton's sensitive mind.

But she also feels a pang
of anger. How could she have
let this happen? She had hoped
that Chip's visit would be a
celebration, a chance for them
to bond. Instead, it had become
a reminder of the chasm that
sometimes separated them, a stark
reality of Plankton's condition.

Chip's sobs from the next room
were a constant reminder of the
pain he had inadvertently caused.
Karen knew she had to talk to
him, to explain.

"Chip, sweetheart," she called,
her voice carrying a gentle
authority. "Can you come out
here, please?"

Chip's heart was still racing,
his eyes red and puffy from crying.
He wiped his nose with the back
of his hand and stepped out of
his room, his gaze flickering to
his dad, then back to his mom. "Is he
okay?" he asked, his voice
small and unsure.

Karen nodded, her screen filled
with a mix of love and
exhaustion. "He's okay," she said,
"Honey, it's time we tell Chip. Can
I help you sit up, so you can tell him?"

Plankton nodded weakly, his body
still feeling like it was made
of lead. Karen helped him into
a sitting position, her eyes
never leaving his. "You're okay,"
she repeated, her voice a gentle
reminder.

Chip stared at
Plankton. "Dad?"
he asked, his 
voice tentative.

Plankton looked up at him,
his eye still clouded with the
aftermath of the storm.

"Chip," he began, his voice
weak, "I'm sorry." But Chip was
already there, kneeling beside
his dad, his screen wide with
relief and confusion.

"What happened?" Chip asked, his
voice trembling. "Why didn't you
answer me? You just ignored me!"

Karen's screen filled with
compassion as she placed a
comforting hand on Chip's shoulder.
"Your dad's not ignoring you,"
she said gently. "He has something
to tell you."

Plankton took a deep, shaky
breath, the words sticking in his
throat. He had always been
afraid of this moment, of the
day Chip would find out. "I...
I, I just..."

Karen squeezed his hand, her
gaze filled with understanding. "It's
okay," she said softly. "You can
tell him."

Plankton took another deep
breath, his voice trembling as
he began. "Chip, I'm... I..."

"Dad?" Chip leaned in, his screen
filled with hope and concern.

Plankton swallowed hard, the
weight of his secret heavy
on his shoulders. "I have...
I've got..."

"Tell me, Dad," Chip said, his
hands going to clutching his dad's 
arm. 
Plankton winced at the sudden
contact, his body tensing again.

Karen saw it, the brief
flicker of pain in his eye. She
quickly stepped in, placing a hand
on Chip's arm. "Give him a
moment, honey," she said, her
voice filled with gentle guidance.

Chip's screen searched hers. He
slowly removed his hand,
backing away slightly.

"Dad, tell me," he said, his voice
desperate. "What's wrong?"

Plankton took a deep breath,
his antennae drooping. "Chip," he
managed, "I've..."

But Chip was already there, his
hands on his father's shoulder.
"Dad, tell me," he said, his voice
filled with urgency. Plankton's
body tensed at the touch.

Karen stepped in quickly,
guiding Chip's hand away. "Let him
speak, honey," she said softly.

Plankton took another deep
breath, his antennae quivering
as he gathered his thoughts. "I have
a..."

"Dad, if it's something bad..."

Plankton's antennae quivered, his
face a mask of pained effort. "Chip..."

Chip's eyes were glued to his dad,
his mind racing with questions.
Why can't Dad just tell me?
He's always been so strong, so
independent. Why is this so hard
for him?

Plankton took a moment, his
eye searching for the right
words. "It's just..."

Chip leaned in closer. All he 
knew was that his
father was in pain and he needed to
fix it. "Just tell me, Dad!" he said,
his voice earnest. "Whatever it is..."

But Plankton was lost again, his
mind swirling with sensations. He
could feel Chip's screen on him,
hear his desperate pleas, but the
words remained trapped. He
closed his eye, trying to gather
his thoughts.

"Chip," he finally managed,
his voice a mere whisper. "I'm not..."

"You're not what?" Chip's voice
was filled with concern and a hint
of impatience.

Plankton opened his eye with a
sigh, his gaze meeting Chip's. "Son..."

"Dad, please, tell me!" Chip's
excitement was palpable, his
body vibrating with the need
for connection.

Plankton took a deep breath,
his antennae drooping slightly.
"Chip, I'm..."

But Chip, fueled by his
eagerness to connect, didn't
give him the space. "Come on, Dad,"
he said, his hands landing on
Plankton's shoulders again.

Plankton flinched, his eye
squeezing shut as the touch sent
a shockwave through his body. "Chip,"
he groaned, his voice strained.
"Please..."

But Chip's enthusiasm didn't
wane, his voice growing more
desperate. "Dad, tell me!" He didn't
understand the pain he was causing,
his need for a response only adding
to the pressure on Plankton, irritating
his frustration as he squeezed his
shoulders harder. "Just..."

Plankton's eye snapped open,
his body recoiling from the
intensity of his son's touch.
The words he had been trying
to form shattered like glass
under the weight of his sensory
overload. "Chip, STOP!" he
yelled, his voice cracking with
frustration and pain.

The sudden outburst shocked both
Karen and Chip into stillness. His dad had
never talked to him like that before. "What..."

But Plankton's agony was like a
dam bursting. He pushed Chip away,
his voice a shout of desperation.
"I CAN'T, CHIP!"

Chip staggered back, his
expression a mix of shock and
hurt. "But why?" he asked, his
voice trembling.

Plankton took a deep, shaky
breath, his body still reeling,
his voice strained. "I have...
I have..."

Chip's eyes searched 
his father's. Why couldn't
his dad just tell him what was
going on? "What, Dad?"

But Plankton was retreating
back into himself, his mind a
whirlwind of sensation and
frustration. "It's too much,"
he managed, his voice barely
above a whisper. "Your..."

"What's too much?" Chip
interrupted, his voice rising
with confusion. "My what?"

Plankton's antennae drooped
as he searched for a way to explain.
He had always kept his condition
to himself, fearful of the
misunderstanding it might bring.
"Chip," he began, his voice
trembling with the effort of
finding the words. "You..."

But Chip's excitement was a
wave, crashing over the delicate
barriers Plankton had built. "You're
not telling me something," he said,
his voice filled with accusation.
"What is it!" His touch was
like sandpaper on sunburned skin,
each word a jab at Plankton's
already overwhelmed mind.

Plankton's eye darted around the
room, his antennae twitching
wildly. The pressure was too
much, the noise of Chip's voice
like a siren. He
could feel the beginnings of a
panic attack, his chest tightening.

"Chip, please," he managed, his voice
barely above a whisper. "I need a
moment." But Chip's excitement
was a force of nature, unyielding
and relentless. "But I just
want to tell you about my week,
about the robot and Nutmeg!"
He didn't know that his words,
his touch, were like a tornado in
Plankton's mind, a storm he couldn't
weather.

new chip and fail Chip Plankton II Sheldon J. Plankton & Chip Plankton II Karen/Chip Plankton II vi

ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᵃ ᶠᵃᵏᵉʳ
⁽ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃᶰᶠᶤᶜ⁾
ᴾᵉᵗ ᵃᵐᵒᵉᵇᵃ ᵖᵘᵖᵖʸ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ˡᶤᵛᵉˢ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ
ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵃᶜʳᵒˢˢ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ ʳᵉˢᵗᵃᵘʳᵃᶰᵗˑ
ˢʰᵉˡᵈᵒᶰ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵃᵈᵒʳᵉᵈ ʰᶤˢ ᵖᵘᵖ˒ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᶠᵉᵉˡᶤᶰᵍ ᵐᵘᵗᵘᵃˡˑ
ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵖˡᵃʸᵉᵈ ᶠʳᶤˢᵇᵉᵉ ʷᶤᵗʰ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃʳᵏ
ᵉᵃʳˡᶤᵉʳ ᵗᵒᵍᵉᵗʰᵉʳ ʷʰᵉᶰ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ˢᵃʷ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ
ʷᶤᵗʰ ʰᶤˢ ᵖᵉᵗ ˢᶰᵃᶤˡ ᴳᵃʳʸˑ "ᴴᶤ˒ ᵏᶤᵈᵎ"
ᴺᵒʷ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ'ˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷᶤᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᶜˡᵉᵃᶰᵉᵈ
ᵈᵘʳᶤᶰᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᵘᵗᶤᶰᵍ˒ ᶠᶤᶰᵈᶤᶰᵍ ᵃ ᵗᵉᵈᵈʸ ᵇᵉᵃʳ ᶤᶰ
ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃᶰᵈ'ˢ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉᵗˑ ᵂʰᵉᶰ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃᶰᵈ
ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵃʳʳᶤᵛᵉᵈ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ʷᶤᵗʰ
ᵗʰᵉᶤʳ ᵖᵉᵗˢ˒ ᵗʰᵉʸ ˢᵃʷ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ʷᶤᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵉᵈᵈʸ ᵇᵉᵃʳˑ
ˢʰᵉ ᵈᵘᵐᵖᵉᵈ ᶤᵗ ᶤᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ˢʰʳᵉᵈᵈᵉʳ ᵐᵃᶜʰᶤᶰᵉ ᵃˢ
ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵍᵃˢᵖᵉᵈ˒ ᵗʳʸᶤᶰᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵏᵉᵉᵖ ʰᶤˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵒˢᵘʳᵉˑ
"ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ˒ ʷʰʸˑˑˑ" "ᴵ'ᵐ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᶜˡᵉᵃᶰᶤᶰᵍˑˑ" "ᴵ ᵏᶰᵒʷ ᵇᵘᵗˑˑˑ"
ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᶜʳᶤᵉˢ˒ ᶰᵒʷ ᶜᵒᶰᶠᵘˢᶤᶰᵍ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ 
ᵃᶰᵈ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇˑ "ᵂʰᵃᵗ ˢʰᵉˡᵈᵒᶰ ᶤᵗ'ˢ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵃᶰ
ᵒˡᵈˑˑˑ" "ᴵ ᵍᵒᵗ ᶤᵗ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʷʰᵉᶰ ʷᵉ'ʳᵉ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉˑˑ"
"ˢʰᵉˡᵈᵒᶰ ʰᵒʷ ᵃᵐ ᴵ ˢᵘᵖᵖᵒˢᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵏᶰᵒʷˑˑ" "ᴵ ᵈᵒᶰ'ᵗ
ʷᵃᶰᶰᵃ ˢᵉᵉᵐ ʷᵉᵃᵏ ᶠᵒʳ ʰᵘᵍᵍᶤᶰᵍ ᶤᵗ ᵉᵃᶜʰ ᶰᶤᵍʰᵗ
ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰᵎ" ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ'ˢ ᶰᵒʷ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵏ
ᵈᵒʷᶰ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶜᵒᶰᵗᶤᶰᵘᵉᵈ ᶜʳʸᶤᶰᵍˑ "ᴴᵉʸ˒ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰˑˑˑ"
ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ʰᶤᵐ ᶤᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉʸᵉˑ "ᴵ ᶜᵃᶰ ˢᵖᵉᶰᵈ ᵗʰᵉ
ᶰᶤᵍʰᵗ ʷᶤᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘˑˑ" "ˢᵘʳᵉ ʷʰʸ ᶰᵒᵗ ˢʰᵉˡᵈᵒᶰ ʸᵒᵘ ᶰᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ
ᵒᵖᵉᶰ ᵘᵖ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵃˢ ᶤᵗ'ˢˑ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᵃᶰᵈ ᴳᵃʳʸ ᵐᶤᵍʰᵗ ᵉᶰʲᵒʸ ᶤᵗ ᵗᵒᵎ"
ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒ ʰᶤˢ ᵇᵉᵈʳᵒᵒᵐˑ "ᵂᵉ ᶜᵃᶰ ˢʰᵃʳᵉ
ᵐʸ ᵇᵉᵈˑ ᴶᵘˢᵗ ᵈᵒᶰ'ᵗ ᵇˡᵃᵇ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗˑˑˑ" "ᴵ'ᵈ ᶰᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵈᵒ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵃ
ᵗʰᶤᶰᵍ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰᵎ ᴼʰ ᵃᶰᵈ ᴵ ᶜᵃᶰ ᵗʳʸ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ᶤᵗ ʷᶤᵗʰ ᵃᶰ
ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵗᵉᵈᵈʸ ᵇᵉᵃʳ ᶤᶠˑˑˑ" "ᴵ'ᵐ ᶰᵒᵗ ᵍᵒᶰᶰᵃ ʳᵉᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ᵐʸ ˢᵖᵉᶜᶤᵃˡ
ᵗᵉᵈᵈʸ ᵇᵉᵃʳ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵐʸ ᶜʰᶤˡᵈʰᵒᵒᵈᵎ ᴮᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵃᶰᵏˢ ᵏᶤᵈˑˑ"
ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ'ˢ ᵉʸᵉ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ᶠᶤˡˡᵉᵈ ʷᶤᵗʰ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢˑ "ᵞᵒᵘ ᶜᵃᶰ ʰᵘᵍ ᵐᵉ
ᶤᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃᶰᵗˑˑ" ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵒᶠᶠᵉʳᵉᵈ˒ ˡᵉᵗᵗᶤᶰᵍ ʰᶤᵐ ʰᵒˡᵈ ʰᵃᶰᵈˢˑ
"ᴵ'ᵐˑˑˑ" "ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵈᵒᶰ'ᵗ ʷᵒʳʳʸ˒ ʸᵒᵘ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵉʸᵉ
ᵃᶰᵈ ˡᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳˢᵉˡᶠ ʳᵉˢᵗᵎ ᵞᵒᵘ ᶜᵃᶰ ᵉᵐᵇʳᵃᶜᵉ ᵐʸ ʰᵃᶰᵈ ˡᶤᵏᵉ
ʸᵒᵘ ᵈᶤᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵉᵈᵈʸ ᵇᵉᵃʳˑˑ" ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˡᵉᵗ ʰᶤᵐ ᵃᶰᵈ ˢᵐᵒᵒᵗʰᵉᵈ
ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ'ˢ ᵃᶰᵗᵉᶰᶰᵃᵉ  ʷᶤᵗʰ ʰᶤˢ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᶠʳᵉᵉ ʰᵃᶰᵈˑ "ᵞᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ
ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ˒ ᴵ ᵏᶰᵒʷ ᶤᵗ'ˢ ʰᵃʳᵈ ˡᵒˢˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ʷᵒᶰ'ᵗ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉˑ"
ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵈᶤᵈᶰ'ᵗ ˡᵉᵗ ᵍᵒˑ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵒᵖᵉᶰᵉᵈ ʰᶤˢ ᵉʸᵉˢ ʷʰᵉᶰᶜᵉ
ʰᵉ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᵠᵘᶤᵉᵗ ˢᶰᵒʳᶤᶰᵍ˒ ᵍˡᵃᵈ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ'ˢ ᵍᵉᵗᵗᶤᶰᵍ ʳᵉˢᵗˑ
'ᴴᵉ ᶤˢ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ' ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵐᶤˡᵉᵈ˒ ˢᵉᵉᶤᶰᵍ ʰᶤᵐ ᶰᵒʷˑ
ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ'ˢ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ᵒᶰ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ʰᵃᶰᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᶤˢ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ
ʳᵉᵐᵃᶤᶰᵉᵈ ᵒᵖᵉᶰ˒ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵃᵖᵖʸ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉˑ "ˢᵒ ˢʷᵉᵉᵗˑˑ"
ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ʷᵒᵏᵉ ᶰᵉˣᵗ ᵐᵒʳᶰᶤᶰᵍ˒ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳᶤᶰᵍ ʸᵉˢᵗᵉʳᵈᵃʸˑ
ᴴᵉ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶰᵒʷ˒ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ᶰᵒᵗ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ ʸᵉᵗˑ
ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵃ ᵈᶤᶠᶠᵉʳᵉᶰᵗ ᵗᵉᵈᵈʸ ᵇᵉᵃʳ ᶠᵒʳ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ
ʷʰᶤᶜʰ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᵍʳᵒʷˡᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ˒ ʷᵃᵏᶤᶰᵍ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇˑ "ᴴᵉʸ
ʷᵃᶤᵗ˒ ʷʰʸ'ˢ ˢᵖᵒᵗˑˑˑ" "ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᵏᶰᵒʷˢ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᶠᵃᵏᵉᵎ"
ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ˢᶰᵃᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ʰᵉʳˑ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ʷᵉᶰᵗ ˢᵃᵗ ᵒᶰ ʰᶤˢ
ᵒʷᶰᵉʳ'ˢ ˡᵃᵖ ᶰᵒʷˑ "ˢᵐᵃʳᵗ ᵖᵘᵖᵎ" "ˢᵒ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ
ᵈᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃᶰʸ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗˢ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʸᵒᵘʳ
ʸᵒᵘᵗʰ ᵒʳ ᵍᶤᵛᵉᶰ ᵗᵒ ᵇʸ ᴹʳˑ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢˀ ᴵ ᵐᵉᵃᶰ˒ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈᵒ
ᶰᵒᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗᵒˑˑˑ" "ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᴵ˒ ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ˢˡᵉᵖᵗ ˢᵒ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ
ᶰᶤᵍʰᵗ ᵗʰᵃᶰ ᴵ ᶜᵃᶰ ʳᵉˑˑˑ" "ᴵ'ᵈ ˢᵖᵉᶰᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᶰᶤᵍʰᵗ ᵃᶰʸ
ᵗᶤᵐᵉ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰᵎ" "ᵞᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵗᵒ ᶰᶤᶜᵉ ᵏᶤᵈˑˑ"
ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ˢʰʳᵉᵈ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵉᵈᵈʸ ᵇᵉᵃʳ ᵃᶰᵈ
ˢᵉʷᶤᶰᵍ ᶤᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᵃˢ ᶰᵉʷˑ "ᴸᵒᵒᵏ˒ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰᵎ"
ˢᵖᵒᵗ ʷᵃᵍᵍᵉᵈ ʰᶤˢ ᵗᵃᶤˡ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵍᵒᵗ ᶤᵗˑ 
»  𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 𝟒𝟖𝟐 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 | 

new Mentioned SpongeBob SquarePants secret past dealing with the past SpongeBob SquarePants (character) Karen (SpongeBob) spot a faker

ᴿᵒᵍᵘᵉ ᴮᵒᵗˢ
⁽ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃᶰᶠᶤᶜ⁾
 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 𝟔𝟔𝟖 
ᴸᶤᵗᵗˡᵉ ᴶᵒʰᶰᶰʸ'ˢ ʳᵒᵇᵒᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᶜᶤᵉᶰᶜᵉ ᶠᵃᶤʳ
ᵈᵉˢᵗʳᵒʸᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᶜʰᵒᵒˡ; ᶤᵗ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᶰᵒ ˢᵘʳᵛᶤᵛᵒʳˢˑ
ᴸᵉᵃᵛᶤᶰᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᶜʰᵒᵒˡ˒ ᶤᵗ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ʷᵉᶰᵗ ʳᵒᵍᵘᵉˑˑ
"ˢᵃᶰᵈʸ ʰᵒʷ ᵈᵒ ʷᵉ ˢᵗᵒᵖ ᶤᵗˀ" "ᵂᶤʳᵉˢ ᵃʳᵉ
ᶤᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᶤᵈᵈˡᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵗ ᴵ ᵇᵉˡᶤᵉᵛᵉ ᵇᵘᵗ
ʰᵒʷ ᶜᵃᶰ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗᵒˑˑˑ" "ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵈᵒ ᶤᵗᵎ" ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ
ᶤᶰᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗˢˑ "ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵐᵃˡˡ ᵉᶰᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗᵒ ᶠᶤᵗᵎ"
"ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈˑˑˑ" "ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᴵ'ᵈ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʲᵘᵐᵖ ᵒᵘᵗ
ʷʰᵉᶰᶜᵉ ᴵ ᵈᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᶤʳᵉˢˑ ᴵᵗ'ˢ ᵃ ʳᶤˢᵏ ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵗᵃᵏᵉˑ"
ᵁˢᶤᶰᵍ ᵃˡˡ ʰᶤˢ ˢᵗʳᵉᶰᵍᵗʰ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵉᶰᵉʳᵍʸ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ
ʷᵉᶰᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵇᵒᵗˑ ˢᵃᶰᵈʸ ᵃᶰᵈ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ
ᵗʳᶤᵉᵈ ᵏᵃʳᵃᵗᵉ ᵒᶰ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ᶰᵒ ᵃᵛᵃᶤˡˑ ᴺᵒʷ ᵃˡˡ ᵒᶠ ᵃ
ˢᵘᵈᵈᵉᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵗ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ˒ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵈᶤᵈ ᶤᵗᵎ"
ᵁᶰᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵗ ᶜᵒˡˡᵃᵖˢᵉˢ
ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵗʳᶤᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵃʷᵃʸ˒ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ᶰᵒ ᵃᵛᵃᶤˡˑ
ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵘʳᵗ ʰᶤˢ ˡᵉᵍ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵏᶤᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵗˑ
ᵀʰᵉ ᵇᶤᵍ ʳᵒᵇᵒᵗ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᶤᶰ ᵃ ʰᵉᵃᵖ ᶤᶰ ᵖᶤᵉᶜᵉˢ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ
ᵃᶰ ᵉˣᵖˡᵒᶤˢᵒᶰ ˢᵒᵘᶰᵈᶤᶰᵍ ᶜʳᵃˢʰ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈˑ "ˢᵃᵛᵉᵈᵎ"
ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵉʸᵉˢ ᶠˡᵘᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢᶤᵗˢ ᵘᵖˑ "ᵂᵃᶤᵗ ᵘᵖ
ʷʰᵉʳᵉ'ˢ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰˀ" ᵀʰᵉʸ ʳᵉᵃˡᶤˢᵉᵈ ᶰᵒᶰᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ
ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᶰᵒʳ ˢᵉᵉᶰ ʰᶤᵐ ˢᶤᶰᶜᵉˑ "ᵂʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘˀ"
ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ˢᵃʷ ᶜʳᵘˢʰᵉᵈ ᵃᶰᵗᵉᶰᶰᵃᵉ ˢᵗᶤᶜᵏᶤᶰᵍ ᵒᵘᵗ
ᵘᶰᵈᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵘᵇᵇˡᵉˑ ᴹᵒᵛᶤᶰᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵉᵇʳᶤˢ ˢʰᵉ
ᶠᵒᵘᶰᵈ ʰᶤᵐˑ "ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰᵎ" ᴮᵘᵗ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ʰᵒʷ
ᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳˢᵗ ᵒᶠ ᶤᵗ˒ ᵃᵗ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵃʳᵉᵈ
ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᶤᶰʲᵘʳᵉᵈ ˡᵉᵍˑ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ'ˢ ᶰᵒᵗ
ˢᵒ ˡᵘᶜᵏʸ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉˢᵗ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵃˢ ʳᵉˡᵃᵗᶤᵛᵉˡʸ
ᵘᶰˢᶜᵃᵗʰᵉᵈ ʷᶤᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ʳᵉᵐᵃᶤᶰᶤᶰᵍ ʰᵃʳᵐᵉᵈˑ
ᵀʰᵉʸ ᵃˡˡ ʷᵉᶰᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᶰᵒʷ ᵃˢ ʰᶤˢ
ᵈʸᶤᶰᵍ ᶠᵒʳᵐ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵃᵖᵖᵃʳᵉᶰᵗˑ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵖᶤᶜᵏˢ
ʰᶤᵐ ᵘᵖˑ "ᵂᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖˑˑ" ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵗᵃᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵍᵉᶰᵗˡʸ
ᵃᵗ ʰᶤˢ ᶜʰᵉᵉᵏ˒ ʰᵒˡᵈᶤᶰᵍ ʰᶤˢ ᵘᶰᶜᵒᶰˢᶜᶤᵒᵘˢ ᵇᵒᵈʸˑ
ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ᶰᵒᵗ ᵐᵒᵛᶤᶰᵍ ᵒʳ ᵃʷᵃʳᵉ˒ ʰᶤˢ ᶠᶤᵍᵘʳᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˡᶤᵐᵖ
ᵃᶰᵈ ˡᶤᶠᵉˡᵉˢˢ˒ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵏᵉᵖᵗ ᵇᵉᵍᵍᶤᶰᵍ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵗᵒ
ᵃᶰˢʷᵉʳ ʰᵉʳˑ "ᵀᵃˡᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ˒ ᶜᵃᶰ ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵉᵃʳ ᵐᵉˀ"
"ᴵˢ ʰᵉ ᵃˡᶤᵛᵉˀ" ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏᵉᵈ ʰᶤˢ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰᶤᶰᵍ
ᵃᶰᵈ ᶜᵒᶰᶠᶤʳᵐᵉᵈ ʰᵉ'ˢ ʷᵉᵃᵏˡʸ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰᶤᶰᵍ ᶰᵒʷˑ
"ᵞᵉˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ᶜᵃᶰᶰᵒᵗ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰᶤᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵒᵖᵉᶰ ʰᶤˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᶰᵒʳ
ᵉᵛᵉᶰ ᵗʷᶤᵗᶜʰˑˑ" ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵗᵒˡᵈˑ "ᴬʳᵉ ʷᵉ ᵍᵒᶰᶰᵃ ˡᵒˢᵉ
ʰᶤᵐ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ˒ ᵒʳ ᵐᶤᵍʰᵗ ʰᵉ ᵖᵘˡˡ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰˀ" ˢᵃᶰᵈʸ
ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ˒ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᶰᵒᵗ ˡᵒᵒᵏᶤᶰᵍ ᵍᵒᵒᵈˑ "ᴴᵒᶰᵉˢᵗˡʸ
ʰᵉ˒ ᴵ ᵈᵒᶰ'ᵗ ᵏᶰᵒʷˑ ᴵ'ᵐ ᶰᵒᵗ ˢᵘʳᵉ ʰᵉ'ˡˡ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳˑ"
ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ ᶤᶰ ʰᶤˢ ᵉʸᵉˢˑ "ᵂʰᵃᵗ ᵈᵒ
ʷᵉ ᵈᵒ ᶰᵒʷˀ" ᴳᵉᵗᵗᶤᶰᵍ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ
ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᶰᵒʷ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵖᵘᵗ ʰᶤᵐ ᵒᶰ ᵗʰᵉᶤʳ ᶜᵒᵘᶜʰˑ
ˢᵃᶰᵈʸ ʷʳᵃᵖˢ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ˡᵉᵍ ᶤᶰ ᵃ ᵇᵃᶰᵈᵃᵍᵉˑ
"ᴴᵉ'ˢ ᵗᵒ ʰᵘʳᵗˑ" ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ˢᵃʸˢ˒ ᵘᶰᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵉᵛᵉᶰ
ˢˡᶤᵍʰᵗᵉˢᵗ ʳᵉᵃᶜᵗᶤᵒᶰ ᵃᵗ ᵃˡˡˑ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ˢᶤᵗᵗᶤᶰᵍ
ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵖᵃʳᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘᶜʰ ˢᶤᵈᵉ ᶰᵉᵃʳ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰˑ
ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵃˡᵏᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʰᶤˢ ᵐᵒᵗᶤᵒᶰˡᵉˢˢ ᵇᵒᵈʸˑ
"ᵂᵉ'ʳᵉ ᵖʳᵒᵘᵈ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘˑ ᵞᵒᵘ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᵃ ᵇᶤᵍ ʳᶤˢᵏ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸˑ
ᴾˡᵉᵃˢᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᶰᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖˑ" ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜʳᶤᵉˢˑ
ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃᶰᵈ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ
ᶰᶤᵍʰᵗ ᵏᶤˢˢᵉˢ ᵃˢ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵗᵃʸˢ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉᶤʳ
ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ᵒᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘᶜʰ ᵃᵈʲᵃᶜᵉᶰᵗ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰˑ
ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷʰᶤᵐᵖᵉʳˢ ᶤᶰ ʰᶤˢ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ˒ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ
ᵈᵃʸ'ˢ ᵉᵛᵉᶰᵗˢ ᵃᶰᵈ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ'ˢ ˢᵃᶜʳᶤᶠᶤᶜᶤᶰᵍ
ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ˡᶤᶰᵍᵉʳˢ ᶤᶰ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵐᶤᶰᵈˑˑˑ
ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ᶜʳᶤᵉᵈ ˢᵒᶠᵗˡʸ ʷʰᶤˡˢᵗ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖˑ
ᴾᵃᶤᶰˑ ᴰᵘˡˡ ᵖᵃᶤᶰ˒ ᵍᵉᵗᵗᶤᶰᵍ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵃᵖᵖᵃʳᵉᶰᵗ ᵃˢ
ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵍᵃᶤᶰᵉᵈ ʰᶤˢ ˢᵉᶰˢᵉˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏˑ ᴴᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ
ᵏᶰᵉʷ ᵖᵃᶤᶰ ᵃᶰᵈ ʷʰᶤᵐᵖᵉʳᶤᶰᵍˑ ᴳʳᵃᵈᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵗʰᵉ
ᶜʳᶤᵉˢ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ˢʰᵃʳᵖ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʷᵒᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ ᵃᵍᵃᶤᶰˑ
ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵍᵒᵗ ʰᶤᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵗᵒ ᵒᵖᵉᶰ ʰᶤˢ ᵉʸᵉˑ ᴴᵉ ᵗʳᶤᵉᵈ
ᵗᵒ ˡᵉᵃᶰ ᵘᵖ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵖᵃᶤᶰ ʳᵘˢʰᶤᶰᵍ ᵗᵒ ʰᶤˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᶠˡᵒᵒᵈᶤᶰᵍ
ʰᶤˢ ˢᵉᶰˢᵉˢ˒ ˢᵒ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ʰᶤᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᶠᵃˡˡᶤᶰᵍ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᶰᵒʷˑ
"ᵁʰˑˑ" ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵗʳᶤᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵒᵇˢᵉʳᵛᵉ ʰᶤˢ ˢᵘʳʳᵒᵘᶰᵈᶤᶰᵍˢˑ
ˢᵒ ʰᵉ ᶠᶤʳˢᵗ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ˒ ʷʰᵒ ᶜʳᶤᵉᵈ
ʰᶤᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵗᵒ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ʷᶤᵗʰ ʰᶤˢ ˡᵉᵍ ᵉˡᵉᵛᵃᵗᵉᵈˑ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ
ᵈᶤˢᵒʳᶤᵉᶰᵗᵉᵈ˒ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵗʳᶤᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃᶰᵒᵉᵘᵛʳᵉ
ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ˒ ᵈʳᵃᵍᵍᶤᶰᵍ ʰᶤᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵇʸ
ʰᶤˢ ˢᶤᵈᵉˑ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ᵘᶰˢᵘʳᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵐᵘᶜʰ˒ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᶰᵒʷ
ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᶤᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ʰᵃᶰᵈ˒ ᶠᵃˡˡᶤᶰᵍ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖˑˑ
ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃʷᵒᵏᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᶰᵉˣᵗ ᵐᵒʳᶰᶤᶰᵍ ᵃᶰᵈ
ᶰᵒᵗᶤᶜᵉᵈ ʰᶤˢ ʰᵃᶰᵈ ᶠᵉˡᵗˑ ᴴᵉ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ˒ ᶰᵒʷ ˢᵉᵉᶤᶰᵍ
ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵒᶰ ʰᶤˢ ʰᵃᶰᵈ˒ ᶰᵒᵗᶤᶜᶤᶰᵍ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᶰᵒᵗ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉˑ
'ᴴᵒʷ ᵈᶤᵈ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰˑˑˑ' ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵖᵒᶰᵈᵉʳˢ ᵃˢ
ʰᵉ ʷᶤᵍᵍˡᵉᵈ ʰᶤˢ ʰᵃᶰᵈˑ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ'ˢ ᵒᵘᵗ ᶜᵒˡᵈˑ
ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ʰᶤᵐˑ ᴴᶤˢ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ
ᵈʳᵒᵖˢ ᵒᵖᵉᶰ ᵃᶰᵈ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ
ᵃᵈʲᵘˢᵗ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒᵛᵉᵐᵉᶰᵗ ʰᵘʳᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵉᵍˑ
"ᴼᵘᶜʰᵎ" ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍʳᵃᵇᵇᵉᵈ ʰᶤˢ ˡᵉᵍ ᵃᶰᵈ
ʳᵒᵘˢᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᶤᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʳᵒᶜᵉˢˢ˒ ᶰᵒ ˡᵒᶰᵍᵉʳ
ᵒᶰ ʰᶤˢ ʰᵃᶰᵈˑ "ᴳᵃʰᵎ" ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ʳᵒˡˡˢ ᵒᵛᵉʳˑ
ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃʳᵉᶠᵘˡˡʸ ʳᵉᵃᶜʰᵉˢ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ
ʷʰᵒ ˡᵉᵗ ʰᶤᵐ ᵖᵘᵗ ʰᶤᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵒᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘᶜʰ ᵗᵒˑ
ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵃᶰᵈ ˢᵃᶰᵈʸ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵃᶰᵈ ᶰᵉˣᵗ ˢᵃʷ 
ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ʳᵘᵇᵇᶤᶰᵍ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ˡᵉᵍˑˑ

new rescue missions broken legs karen/sandy Karen & SpongeBob SquarePants Karen (SpongeBob) greater good Nightmares/Comfort rogue bots

      ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
     ™️

new vi invisible unseen

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

new object-show osc object show inanimate insanity ii cute dot art text art ascii art

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⣶⣶⣦⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⠟⢋⠥⢀⣴⣾⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⣥⣒⡲⢤⡙⢿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣤⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠛⠻⢶⣶⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣴⣿⣛⣹⣿⣤⣄⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣛⣿⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣶⣿⠿⠟⠛⠛⢛⠉⠙⠛⠛⠿⢷⣦⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠛⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⠟⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠰⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠿⣦⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⡿⠁⡰⠀⠀⢠⠃⡴⠀⠀⣠⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠉⢿⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⡇⠐⠠⠒⣩⣤⠶⠶⠾⠿⢿⣷⠶⢤⣄⣀⠀⠂⠀⠄⠈⢻⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⠁⣠⠞⠋⠁⣴⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⡐⠲⢌⠙⠻⣦⡁⠀⡐⢸⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡏⣼⢳⠃⠀⡁⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠻⡿⠞⠗⠀⠈⠻⣦⢢⣹⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣤⣴⣿⣧⠀⠀⠻⣿⡟⣸⠀⣸⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⡀⠰⠀⠂⢀⢸⡇⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⠟⠋⠀⠀⠀⣾⡇⣿⠀⠌⡀⠧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⣿⣷⣶⡶⠀⣐⢢⣼⣷⡿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣟⣲⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⢡⠟⠀⠄⠐⣠⣶⡄⠀⠀⠀⠉⢿⣿⡶⠀⠀⡝⠻⣿⡿⠶⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢾⡟⢸⣧⡀⠙⢶⣿⡟⢀⣀⣤⠤⢤⣄⢿⣷⠀⢃⡏⢰⣿⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⣠⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⣶⡆⢠⣤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⡟⠶⠿⠻⠦⢀⠀⠄⢯⡠⢄⡘⢀⡆⣿⣿⣔⢸⠃⣼⣿⣿⣷⣶⣾⣶⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⠻⠤⠟⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⠁⡇⠀⡂⠐⠠⢈⠐⡀⠳⣄⡼⢀⣾⣿⢣⢾⡘⠀⣿⣿⣿⣻⡝⣯⢫⡝⡞⣬⣿⣽⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣴⠿⠛⠛⠛⠿⢶⣄⡀⢸⡿⢰⠃⠀⠁⠌⡐⢀⣂⣄⣡⣤⣷⠿⠟⡁⢊⢰⡃⢀⣿⣿⣯⢳⡟⣖⡫⢼⣽⣿⣽⣾⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⡿⠃⡀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⣾⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣾⡇⢸⠀⠠⠁⠂⠄⡈⢉⠉⡉⠉⠄⢂⡐⢠⠁⢊⡀⢸⣿⡿⣞⡽⣞⣭⡷⣫⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠋⠴⠾⠃
⠀⠀⢠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⡇⡎⠀⢀⠡⠈⡐⢀⠂⠌⠠⠁⡌⠠⠐⣀⠊⢼⠀⣽⣿⣟⣻⣾⣿⣿⣽⣿⢿⣷⣿⣻⢿⣿⣷⣦⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠈⠿⣿⣿⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⣿⡀⡿⢀⠠⢀⠡⢀⠂⠌⠠⢁⠂⠄⡁⠒⠤⢈⡇⢀⣿⣿⠾⣿⣿⣟⣿⣿⣯⣿⣿⣞⣧⢟⡼⣹⡛⢿⡻⣿⣷⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⡇⠇⠀⡀⠂⠄⢂⠈⠄⡁⠂⠌⡐⠠⢁⠒⢠⠇⢸⣿⣗⣫⣿⣿⣿⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣬⣳⢥⣛⣶⣻⣿⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⣿⣧⡀⠘⠀⡐⠈⡀⠌⠐⠠⢁⠂⠄⡁⢂⠌⣸⠀⢾⣿⣼⡿⠏⠁⢻⣿⣟⢧⡟⡿⢮⡽⢧⡽⣾⣿⣿⢯⣿⠏⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣶⣿⡁⡝⣷⣆⠐⢀⠐⠠⠈⠄⡁⠂⠌⡐⠀⠆⡐⣸⠀⣾⡿⠛⠁⠀⢄⠀⢿⣯⡻⣼⡹⣧⣟⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⠟⢿⣿⡄⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⡏⠁⠈⢿⣇⠀⡈⠀⠁⠆⡀⠁⠆⡀⠁⠶⢀⡇⢰⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠸⣿⢷⣷⢿⣷⣿⣏⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠉⠀⣀⡶⣿⣿⡀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠺⣿⣿⡟⠀⠐⡀⠙⣷⣤⠁⠌⠠⢀⠁⠂⠄⡑⠠⢂⡇⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠠⠂⠠⠀⣿⣿⣽⡿⣯⣷⣿⣿⢿⠋⢁⣠⣴⠻⣥⣷⣾⡿⠃⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⠟⡑⠀⠄⠠⠁⡈⠹⣿⣦⡁⠄⡈⠐⢂⠰⠑⢸⡇⢾⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⣯⣿⣿⡿⠋⠁⣠⡴⣯⣳⣾⣿⠿⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⢀⡇⠈⡀⠂⠁⠄⢂⠀⡙⠻⣶⣤⣁⠂⠆⣁⢺⠁⣿⣷⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣺⣿⣿⠟⠛⠁⠀⣸⣿⣷⣿⠟⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣯⢸⡅⠂⢀⠡⠈⡐⠀⠂⠄⡁⢈⠙⠻⣷⣶⣄⣚⢸⣿⡿⣿⣿⣦⣄⠀⠀⢀⣿⠻⠁⢠⡟⣀⣾⣿⣿⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⣸⠀⠐⠠⢀⠡⠀⠌⡐⠠⠐⠠⢈⠐⠠⠨⢙⡛⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠟⢃⣴⣋⣾⣿⠟⠛⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣦⣄⡀⠀⣿⠁⣏⠠⢈⠐⠠⠐⠈⠄⡐⠠⢁⠂⠄⡈⡆⠡⢸⠀⣿⣿⣟⣿⣿⣿⠟⠁⣠⢶⣻⣾⠿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⠏⠉⠛⠻⢷⣿⡆⢣⠐⢀⠂⠁⠄⡁⢂⠐⡀⠂⠌⡐⢠⠐⢡⡞⢸⣿⣿⣿⡾⠟⢀⡴⣿⣽⣿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢻⣿⣮⡆⠠⢈⠐⠠⠐⡀⠂⠄⡁⢂⠐⡄⠌⣰⠃⣸⣿⡿⠋⣀⣴⣯⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣌⢻⣧⠀⠌⠠⢁⠐⢈⠐⡀⢂⢂⢐⡼⢁⣼⡿⠋⣠⣶⣿⣿⠿⠿⢶⣶⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣦⡙⠦⣌⡐⠠⠈⠄⢂⣐⣤⠶⢋⣠⣾⠋⣠⢾⣽⣿⣯⣭⠓⣄⠂⢸⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠠⣿⣿⣿⣶⣤⣄⠈⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣶⣤⣍⣉⠉⠉⣉⣁⣤⣴⡾⠋⣠⣞⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣼⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠈⠛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⠛⠿⠿⠛⣿⡟⠻⣿⣶⣭⣿⡿⣿⡛⠉⠁⠈⢻⣦⣌⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⠛⠛⠛⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡗⠀⠈⠙⡿⠛⠀⢹⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣿⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣴⡀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢻⣷⣄⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⢰⣿⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⡏⣿⡆⠀⣼⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠛⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢼⣿⡿⠁⠘⣿⣧⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢻⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠛⠁⠀⠀⠈⠙⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢻⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠻⣷⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⣿⣷⣶⣶⣶⣶⡄⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣠⣼⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠛⠿⠿⠿⠟⠃⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠛⠛⠋⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

new bfdi bfb tpot bfdia ii III fan testtube FANTUBE dot art text art ascii art

Fandom:
SpongeBob SquarePants (Cartoon)
Relationships:
Eugene Krabs & Sheldon J. Plankton, Eugene Krabs/Sheldon J. Plankton
Characters:
Eugene Krabs, Sheldon J. Plankton, SpongeBob SquarePants, Spot, Squidward Tentacles, Karen (SpongeBob)
Language:English Collections:Anonymous Stats: Published:2024-08-13
Summary:
Mr. Krabs hasn't seen Plankton in a few days. So why are the doors boarded up?
Notes:
This can be read as either platonic or romantic between Plankton and Krabs.
There are slight mentions and hints, but it's not really brought up or focused on. It's just kind of in the background.

Work Text:
The sound of coins clinking is like music to Mr.Krabs. He counts his earnings for the day in his office.
Something seemed off to the crab, yet he couldn’t place his claw on it. A lot of customers came in today. Everything was accounted for. There were no issues.
And no Plankton…
Now that he thinks about it, he hasn’t seen his arch nemesis in a few days. The tiny green creature usually makes a daily attempt to steal the secret formula. 
A cheerful sponge throws the door open to his office, startling him for a split second. “Closing time!” 
The crustacean lifts a claw up and waves it. “Good work today, lads!” He closes up the safe and walks out his office, checking his establishment. “Everything looks to be in ship shape. I’ll see ye tomorrow!”
“See ya Mr.Krabs!” The sponge cheered.
“Later Krabs,” the squid finally speaks up. 
The two employees hang their hats and start their walk home. Eugene looks outside, seeing only a bit of the sun in the sky. The streetlights are starting to flicker on. He takes a glance at the Chum Bucket across the street. The place was completely dark, from what he could see. 
He exits his establishment, locking up, and walks across the street to meet up with his rival. The crab can now see the state of the Chum Bucket. Yes, it looked like a dump in the past, but now the doors were boarded up. He takes a step back, also noticing that the glove that lifted up the handle of the Chum Bucket previously is now smashed into the roof. Alright, something is definitely wrong here , he thinks to himself, as if he’s just now putting the clues together. 
He steps up to the double doors and rips the wood off before trying to push the doors open. When he realizes that the doors are probably locked on the inside, he takes a few steps back before charging at it. Eugene successfully breaks through the doors, flying into the Chum Bucket and breaking a wooden chair when he lands on it. 
“Krabs?” Small footsteps made their way to the crustacean. The voice from the creature was more raspy than usual. “What are you doing here?”
The only light shining through was from the streetlight outside. Once Plankton was in Krab’s view, Eugine noted that his antennas were curved down and his eye was watery. The only response the crab could give was “It’s Thursday”.
“It’s already Thursday?” Plankton rubs his eye before looking over to the calendar on the wall. His voice was monotone, scaring more than he already was. “Boarded up signs means no visitors.” He turns around and slowly walks to the back, adding “Go home, Krabs”.
Krabs stood for a moment, not having any idea what to do next. They’ve had a rivalry for years, should he really be helping? Should he get in Sheldon’s business? Since Plankton was so small, and was walking slower than usual, the red creature had plenty of time to think. After contemplating his options, he finally asks “Why is the power off?”
Plankton stops in his tracks. Silence filled the room for a brief moment as the crab waited for an answer. “My power was turned off,” he answers honestly. He could tell something was bugging the small creature.
“Couldn’t pay yer bills, huh Plankton?” The crustacean laughs at his rival's suffering before he notices he’s walking away again. “Hey, where ye going?”
“Bed.”
“Huh? It’s only 6pm! Who’d want to go to bed this early?” He finally stands up off the ground, taking a few steps towards the green creature when he doesn't answer.
Despite Sheldon being his rival for years, he hated seeing him so bummed. Sure, he failed all the time at stealing his secret formula, but he had never been this heartsick. Krabs finally takes in his surroundings. The place’s odor seeped through his nostrils. The tables and chairs were bent in different directions, some even being torn out of the floor completely. A table that was neither had photos laid out of Plankton, Karen, and their pet, Spot. 
“Where’s Karen? …And, the little pet of yers?”
The tall crab watches as the one-eyed organism breaks, lying on the ground and curling in on himself. Eugene hesitates for a minute, not knowing if he should assure him, or how. By his reaction, Karen and Spot weren’t there to help. Sheldon’s reaction reminded him of how he was when his wife passed, trying to care for Pearl as he grieved. He looks around the restaurant again noting it wasn’t the best place for anyone to stay at. Krabs hesitantly picks him up off the ground and carries him all the way back to his house. Plankton either didn’t know or didn’t care that he was being taken away. 
He was too focused on the loss.
___________________________________________________________________
After a day of staying at Krab’s home, Plankton finally talks. He surprised himself when he finally did, specially since he was getting vulnerable with his rival.
It started when his pet, Spot, ran away. He spent the whole day looking. Karen stayed at home, printing missing fliers. When Plankton got home later that night to see if Spot came back, Karen told him to get sleep, and they would look for him the next day. 
The next morning, Karen and Sheldon went their separate ways in town. Plankton later got a call from the Hospital that Karen was hit by a boat. He rushed there finding all of her parts and pieces shattered. He tried repairs with no luck. He even begged Sandy to help! The only thing the squirrel told him when she saw the damage was “Sorry”.
He lost motivation. Plankton closed down his restaurant and hid in his room for days.
Plankton sobbed into a small pillow on a makeshift bed as he told it. He was worried that the crab would make fun but instead, he felt a claw start to awkwardly rub his back. 
A few days have gone by since he’s told Eugene. For the past days, he’s stayed in the bed, which was a small, empty, unused chest, a pillow, and a blanket. Pearl would bring him meals and check on him when Krabs was at work. 
All he wanted was his wife and Spot, but he knew one of those, he would never get back. His thoughts to go searching for his amoeba were crushed by the voice in his head saying, “What’s the use?”. 
When Krabs came back, he would chat with Plankton to give him some comfort. Usually, Plankton would like to be left alone in his thoughts. But Eugene knew exactly how he felt. The same thing happened when it came to his wife. Surprisingly enough, he found comfort in the red crab. He felt free to talk about anything that was on his mind, and Eugene would listen. He missed his wife. He missed Spot. 
At least he had someone there for him. 
___________________________________________________________
Plankton wakes up in a cold sweat from another nightmare. The sun was starting to set outside, giving Plankton a beautiful view from his bed on the window seal when he sat up. Focusing on the sunset, he stared out the window for a minute. It was a Sunday, and even though Krabs had his restaurant closed, he told the small creature that he would be out for the majority of the day.
He tucks himself back into his bed and tries to go to sleep again. Minutes go by before the door to the room opens up and he hears footsteps. 
“Hey Plankton,” a voice starts. “I heard about Karen. I figured I’d come and comfort ya. I’m sorry about what happened.”
Sheldon covers his head and groans. SpongeBob noted the small creature’s body language but continued anyway. “I got you a little something.”
“No. I’m not in the mood.”
“I think you’ll like it!” The cheerful sponge pesters.
Plankton huffs pulling the blanket off of him, immediately getting licked in the face by… 
“Spot?”
The amoeba barked jumping on his owner. “SPOT!” Plankton wrapped his arms around his pet as they reunited. “Spot, you’re safe!” Tears start forming in his eye and he holds his pet tighter.
“Aww.” SpongeBob bats his eyes. “I told ya you’d like it! We were out looking for him all day!” 
“We?” He looks to the door, finding Eugene at the doorway.
“Yeah! It was Mr. Krabs idea. We looked everywhere! Turns out, he was staying at my library blah blah blah-” Plankton started zoning out as the sponge kept talking, overwhelmed with emotion.  “-Oh, it looks like we have to go. Bye Plankton! Hope you start feeling better soon!”
The fact Krabs did to help find his pet warmed his heart. 
Mr. Krabs says his farewells to his employee as Plankton showers Spot with affection. When the crab is done, he checks in with Sheldon again. 
He walks back up and knocks on the bedroom door before opening it. Plankton is still tickled by his pet and receiving kisses. “I missed you so much, Spot! Don’t you run away again!” The crab chuckles, startling Plankton, who didn’t realize he was back in the room. “You were out looking for Spot?” 
The red creature rubs the head/shell and darts his eyes away. “Oh, well… I figured since… ye know…”
Plankton found himself speaking again. “Thanks, Eugene.” He sounded both shocked and grateful as he spoke. 
The crab finally gets the words he was looking for earlier together as he speaks. “Well, ye’ve been through a lot. Thought ye’d ought to get something good in yer life.” 
Krabs glances back at the small creature, finally smiling for the first time in what has seemed like eternity.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/58159567

new Eugene Krabs & Sheldon J. Plankton Eugene Krabs/Sheldon J. Plankton spongebob fanfic eugene krabs sheldon j. plankton SpongeBob SquarePants spot squidward tentacles Karen (SpongeBob) SpongeBob SquarePants (Cartoon)

𝐧𝐞𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐦

new neovim text dot ascii art vi

😷💯

new jjhjhjhj 37 42 vi

New Reality Emojis & Text

Copy & Paste New Reality Emojis & Symbols

Related Text & Emojis