None of the Wiser Emojis & Text

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NONE OF THE WISER 1/3 The doctor, noticing Plankton's discontent, injected a painkiller into his IV. Plankton's eye glazed over as the medication took hold. "I feel...floaty," he murmured, his usually sharp gaze clouded with sedation. SpongeBob nodded understandingly. "It's ok, Plankton. The medicine is helping you feel better." Plankton giggled, his tiny body swaying slightly with the effort. "Sponge Bob...you know what?" His speech was slurred, his thoughts scattered by the painkillers. "You're...so...spongy," Plankton giggled, his arm flailing in a lazy arc to poke at Sponge Bob's side. His finger bounced off the soft yellow like a spring. Sponge Bob chuckled. "I've always been spongy, Plankton. It's what makes me, me!" He gently took hold of Plankton's waving hand and held it still. "But, remember, you’re going under for wisdom teeth removal." The giggles grew more frequent, turning into hysteric laughter. "Wisdom teeth," he chuckled, "Why do they call them that? They don't make you smarter, they just make you...oh!" His laughter trailed off as he winced, the pain briefly piercing through the fog of the painkillers. Sponge Bob's smile never wavered. "They're called wisdom teeth because they come in when you're older and wiser, Plankton," he explained patiently. "But don't worry, you'll be fine. The dentist is the best in Bikini Bottom." Plankton's giggles turned into a low, throaty chuckle. "Best...in Bikini Bottom?" He squinted, eyelid drooping. "That's like being the smartest kid in a school for jellyfish." Sponge Bob couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of the statement. Plankton's usual sharp wit was dulled by the medication, leaving room for unexpected silliness. "Well, you know what they say, Plankton. In the ocean, even a sea cucumber can shine if it tries hard enough." Plankton's chuckles grew quieter as the sedative began to fully take effect. His eyelid drooped further, and a little drool escaped from the corner of his mouth. "Plankton, you're gonna be fine," Sponge Bob reassured, patting him on the shoulder. "Just close your eye and think happy thoughts." "Happy...thoughts," Plankton mumbled, his voice trailing off as he drifted closer to sleep. Sponge Bob watched with a mix of amusement and concern. The usually devious and scheming Plankton looked so vulnerable, lying there giggling about sea cucumbers and wisdom teeth. It was a rare sight, one that made Sponge Bob feel a pang of something unfamiliar. The doctor and nurse returned, their expressions professional but with a hint of a smile at the sight of the odd couple. "It's time to up the dosage," the doctor announced. Plankton's eye snapped open. "Dosage?" he slurred. "But, but, I'm already floating!" He tried to sit up, his body moving in slow, wobbly motions. Sponge Bob chuckled, gently pushing him back down. "It's ok, Plankton. You just need to relax. The more you fight it, the less fun it'll be." The nurse adjusted the IV, increasing the flow of. Plankton's body went slack again, his eye rolling back into his head. "Wooo...I'm going on a magic carpet ride," he mumbled, his voice faint and distant. Sponge Bob couldn't help but smirk at Plankton's dopey state. He'd never seen the tiny villain so out of sorts, and it was almost endearing. "Just keep floating, Plankton," he said, patting his hand. "You're going to the land of nod." Plankton's eye rolled back into his head, and he started to mumble incoherently. "Land of...nod...sounds...like a...a...pirate's treasure map," he babbled. Sponge Bob watched him, a smile playing on his lips. "Just think happy thoughts, buddy," he said, his tone gentle. Plankton's voice grew faint as the sedative deepened. "Happy thoughts...like...like...Karen's secret Krabby Patty recipe," he mumbled, his mind wandering into a cloud of oblivion. Sponge Bob's smile widened. "Well, if that's what floats your boat, Plankton," he said, patting the sea creature's hand again. Plankton's words grew softer, turning into a series of slurred mumbles. "Mm, Krabby Patties...so...so...scrumptious." His eye remained closed, but a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. The doctor and nurse exchanged a knowing look. "Looks like he's almost ready for the procedure," the doctor said, nodding to the nurse who began preparing the surgical equipment. Sponge Bob's smile grew. He leaned in closer to hear the last of his friend's delirious words. "And...and...the secret ingredient...is...wuv.." Plankton's mumbles turned into snores, and Sponge Bob had to stifle a laugh. The doctor and nurse moved around the bed, setting up the instruments for the surgery. The doctor, a stern-looking fish with a white lab coat and a stethoscope around his neck, checked Plankton's vitals. "He's ready," he said, nodding to the nurse who had administered the anesthesia. As Plankton drifted off into sleep Sponge Bob squeezed his hand. "You're just going to sleep for a little while, Plankton. It's time for your wisdom teeth to come out." Plankton's hand went limp in Sponge Bob's. Sponge Bob watched the doctor and nurse with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. He'd never seen a surgery before, not even on TV. The doctor nodded to him. "You can stay if you want." Sponge Bob nodded bravely, gripping the railing of the bed. He didn't want to leave Plankton's side. The doctor and nurse began to work, their movements swift and precise. The room was filled with the clanking of instruments and the occasional beep from the heart monitor. The doctor leaned over with a scalpel, and Sponge Bob had to look away. The thought of someone poking around in Plankton's mouth was too much, even if it was to make him feel better. He focused on the wallpaper, a pattern of cheerful fish and bubbles, trying to block out the sounds of the surgery. He heard the doctor's voice. "Everything's going smoothly, Sponge Bob. Nothing to worry about." Sponge Bob nodded. He peeked over at Plankton, whose mouth was now open wide, filled with a series of metal instruments that gleamed under the harsh surgical lights. The nurse was busy suctioning out who knows what, keeping the area clear for the doctor to work, all while Plankton’s fully under anesthesia. "Almost done," he announced. Sponge Bob looked back at the bed to see the doctor carefully sewing up the small incisions in Plankton's gums. The nurse was already preparing the recovery room, laying out soft gauze and a cup of water. When the surgery was over, the doctor stepped back with a nod of satisfaction. "It went well," he said, turning to Sponge Bob. "He'll be out for a while, but he'll be good as new when he wakes up." Sponge Bob let out a sigh of relief, his grip on the bed rail easing. "Thank you, doctor," he said, his voice sincere. The nurse moved to the bedside, checking Plankton's vital signs. "You can stay with him if you'd like," she offered. "He'll be waking up soon." Sponge Bob nodded gratefully, taking a seat beside the bed. He picked up Plankton's hand again, giving it a gentle squeeze. The doctor and nurse began to clean up, their movements swift and efficient. The doctor and nurse finished up their work, the room now a symphony of orderliness and cleanliness. The doctor turned to Sponge Bob with a kind smile. "He'll be out for about an hour. You can even talk to him while you wait if you'd like." Sponge Bob nodded, even if Plankton couldn't understand him at the moment. The nurse dimmed the lights, leaving Sponge Bob alone with his thoughts and the gentle sounds of Plankton's snoring. A soft beep from the heart monitor brought him back to reality. Plankton's chest was moving faster, and his eyelid began to twitch. Sponge Bob sat up straight, gripping his friend's hand tightly. "Plankton, wake up," he said gently. The snores grew less frequent, and his body began to stir. His eye fluttered open, focusing on Sponge Bob with a confused gaze. "Wh...where...what happened?" Plankton slurred, his mouth feeling thick and uncooperative. Sponge Bob offered a warm smile. "You had your wisdom teeth removed, buddy. You're all done," he said, his voice gentle.
NONE OF THE WISER 2/3 Plankton blinked a few times, his mind foggy with the remnants of the anesthesia. "Wisdom... teeth?" he mumbled, his voice groggy. "Oh...right." He tried to sit up, but the nurse had anticipated his movement and gently pushed him back down. "Take it easy, Mr. Plankton," she said, her voice soothing. "You need to rest. The surgery went well, yet your body is still recovering." Plankton looked up at the nurse with a dazed expression, his eye struggling to focus. The world felt wobbly, like jelly. "But, but, I... I don't remember anything," he mumbled, his voice thick with confusion. Sponge Bob chuckled softly. "That's because you were asleep, Plankton," he said, his tone still filled with the gentle patience from earlier. Plankton's eye searched the room, looking for something familiar. "Sponge...Bob?" he croaked, his voice barely above a whisper. "Right here, buddy," Sponge Bob said, patting his hand reassuringly. Plankton's gaze finally found him, and a goofy smile spread across his face. "You...you're...so...spongy," he giggled, his words still slurred from the medication. Sponge Bob couldn't help but laugh at his friend's loopy state. "You're pretty funny when you're all doped up," he said, his heart swelling with affection. Plankton's usual sharp tongue was now a jumble of nonsensical giggles and random thoughts. "Everything's...so...so...shiny," Plankton mumbled, his eye half-open and unfocused. He tried to lift his head to look around the room, but the effort was too much, and he flopped back down onto the pillow with a contented sigh. Sponge Bob chuckled, watching his friend's antics with amusement. "It's the medicine, Plankton," he said, patting his hand. "It's making everything seem a bit... different." Plankton's eye grew wide as he stared at the ceiling. "Look at those lights! I…" he exclaimed, pointing upwards with a wobbly finger. "They're just lights, Plankton," Sponge Bob said, his voice filled with amusement. Plankton's eye rolled around in his head like a marble in a pinball machine. "No, no, they're not just lights," he insisted, his voice taking on a dreamy quality. "They're... they're the stars of the sea... twinkling... twinkling... for me." Sponge Bob couldn't hold back his laughter anymore. The sight of his usually cunning adversary reduced to a babbling, star-gazing patient was to much. "You're definitely feeling the effects of that medicine," he said, shaking his head. Plankton's smile grew even wider, if that was possible. "I... I feel like I'm swimming in a sea of marshmallows," he slurred, his limbs moving in a slow, dream like fashion. "Everything's so...so... squishy!" Sponge Bob couldn't help but laugh at his friend's silliness. "Marshmallows, huh?" he said, gently poking Plankton's arm. "You're definitely feeling the love from those meds." Plankton's smile grew even goofier as he nodded. "Yeah, I... I think I'm in love with this pillow," he mumbled, hugging it tightly to his chest. The nurse chuckled as she checked his chart. "The effects of the anesthesia can be quite entertaining," she said with a wink. Sponge Bob watched as Plankton began to drift off again, his chuckles turning into snores. "Rest up, buddy," he whispered, still holding onto his hand. "You're going to need all the energy you can get for when you wake up." As Plankton slept, Sponge Bob's thoughts turned to the Krabby Patty secret recipe. It had always been a source of contention between them, but in that moment, it didn't seem as important as it once did. He knew Plankton would be back to his old tricks soon enough, but for now, he was just happy to see his friend safe and sound. The nurse returned to the room, her smile just as bright as before. "Alright, Mr. Plankton, it's time for you to go to your recovery room," she said, her voice cheerful. Plankton's eye shot open, and he looked around, his gaze still a bit hazy. "Recovery...room?" he mumbled. "But...but I'm already in a room!" His giggles bubbled up again, and Sponge Bob couldn't help but join in. The nurse, unfazed by Plankton's state, carefully lifted him onto the gurney. "You're going to a special room where you can rest and let the medication wear off," she explained, her voice soothing. "It's like a VIP lounge for post-surgery patients." Plankton's smile grew even dopier as he took in her words. "VIP...lounge...sounds...sounds like...like...a secret lair!" he exclaimed, his imagination clearly still running wild despite the sedatives. Sponge Bob helped the nurse maneuver the gurney out of the surgical room, the wheels squeaking slightly on the linoleum floor. The recovery room was dimly lit, with soft blue lights that reminded him of the ocean at night. Plankton was laid down on a comfortable chair, surrounded by pillows and blankets. "Now, you just stay here and rest," she said, patting him on the shoulder. "Your friend Sponge Bob can keep you company." Plankton nodded, his smile never leaving his face. "Friend...Sponge Bob," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. His thoughts were a whirlpool of jellyfish-shaped clouds, each one filled with a different, nonsensical idea. The recovery room was quiet, the only sounds the occasional beep of the heart monitor and the gentle lapping of the waves outside. Plankton's eye, usually sharp and calculating, now glazed over with contentment. "He'll be like this for a while," she said, her voice low so as not to disturb Plankton. "The medication can make people say some pretty out there things." Sponge Bob nodded, his gaze still on Plankton's peaceful face. "It's like he's in his own little world," he said, his voice filled with wonder. The nurse chuckled. "It's the anesthesia. It can do funny things to people," she said, jotting down notes on Plankton's chart. "But don't worry, he'll be back to his usual self in no time." Plankton's face was a picture of pure bliss, his mouth hanging open slightly as he drooled onto the pillow. "Sponge Bob," he mumbled, his voice thick with the aftermath of the anesthesia. "You... you're... so...so...fluffy." Sponge Bob couldn't help but laugh at Plankton's loopy antics. "Fluffy?" he echoed, gently wiping the drool away with a tissue. "I think you're still a little out of it, buddy." Plankton giggled, his eye half-closed. "Yeah, I... I am," he admitted, his voice a slur. "But, but you're so...so...comfortable!" He leaned into the sponge, his head lolling against Sponge Bob's shoulder. Sponge Bob couldn't help but laugh, feeling the warmth of Plankton's body against his own. "Well, I'm not going anywhere," he said, his voice filled with affectionate amusement. "So, go ahead, get comfortable." Plankton's giggles grew softer, his eye finally closing all the way. His breathing evened out, and Sponge Bob knew he was asleep. He gently placed the pillow under Plankton's head, making sure he was comfortable. The nurse returned to the room, her eyes twinkling with amusement at the sight of them. "He'll be out for a bit," she said. "You can stay here as long as you like." Sponge Bob nodded, not wanting to leave Plankton's side. He had never seen him so... peaceful. The doctor's words echoed in his mind: "Take it easy, Mr. Plankton. You need to rest." It was strange to hear those words directed at someone who was usually so full of energy and schemes. The nurse dimmed the lights, leaving the room in a gentle glow. The soft hum of the hospital machinery and the distant sound of waves outside the window filled the space. Sponge Bob watched as Plankton's chest rose and fell, his breathing slow and steady. It was like watching a tiny, harmless sea creature, rather than the usual plotting nemesis. Plankton's head lolled to the side, his mouth hanging open slightly. Sponge Bob couldn't help but chuckle. He'd never seen Plankton so relaxed, so utterly carefree. It was as if all the tension between them had been washed away with the waves of anesthesia. The nurse returned with a cup of ice chips, the sound of her footsteps echoing in the quiet room. "Here you go, Mr. Plankton," she said, her voice gentle as she offered the cup. "These will help with the swelling." Plankton's eye slowly opened, his pupil dilated and unfocused. "Wha... what's that?" he mumbled, his voice still thick with the medication. Sponge Bob looked down at the ice chips in the cup. "It's just some ice to help with swelling," he said, holding it up for Plankton to see. "You're supposed to put in your mouth." Plankton's eye grew wide with excitement, his pupil dilating even further. "Oooh, ice," he murmured, his voice still slurred. He reached for the cup with a wobbly arm, his hand barely missing it several times before finally making contact. Sponge Bob couldn't help but laugh as he took the cup from the nurse and held it to Plankton's lips. "Here you go, buddy," he said, his voice filled with kindness. "Just a little bit." Plankton's tongue flicked out, tasting the cold ice. His eye rolled back in his head as he let out a contented sigh. "Ahh... heaven," he mumbled, his speech still thick with the sedatives. He took a few more chips, his chewing slow and methodical. Sponge Bob watched him, his smile never faltering. It was strange, seeing the usually crafty Plankton so doped up and docile. The nurse had warned him that the medication could cause some people to become overly affectionate, but he didn't expect him to be quite this intense.
NONE OF THE WISER 3/3 As Plankton chewed on his ice chips, his grip on reality grew looser and looser. The nurse looked over at them, her smile never faltering. "It's the medication," she assured Sponge Bob, shaking her head. "He'll be fine." Plankton's giggles grew even louder, his eye watering with joy. "You... you're the best... best... best Sponge Bob ever!" he exclaimed, his arm shooting up to give Sponge Bob a high-five. It was a gesture that was met with air, as his coordination was still compromised by the anesthesia. Sponge Bob couldn't help but laugh, his heart swelling with warmth. He had never seen Plankton so... so utterly ridiculous. "Thanks, Plankton," he said, his voice filled with affection. "But maybe save the high- fives for when you're not so... wobbly ." Plankton's arm flopped back onto the chair, his smile still plastered on his face. "Wob... wobbly," he repeated, his eye crossing slightly as he tried to focus on Sponge Bob. "You know, I've always... always wondered what it's like to be... to be a jellyfish." He began to sway slightly, his body mimicking the graceful movements of the jellyfish in the sea. Sponge Bob couldn't hold back his laughter any longer. "You're definitely not a jellyfish," he said, his voice filled with mirth. "But I’m afraid I saw you’d bitten your cheek or tongue in your numbed state.." Plankton's grin grew even wider, his cheeks reddening with the effort. "I'm... I'm a sea worm," he said, his voice a drunken slur. "But in my heart, I'm a... a... jellyfish!" He began to wobble his body back and forth, his movements exaggerated and clumsy. Sponge Bob couldn't help but chuckle at the sight. "You're definitely not a jellyfish," he said, his voice filled with affectionate teasing. "But you're definitely something special Plankton." The nurse checked Plankton's vitals one last time before leaving them to rest. "Remember, Mr. Plankton, don't bite your cheeks," she said, a knowing smile on her face. Plankton nodded solemnly, his eye still half- closed. "I'll... I'll be... careful," he murmured, his voice a slow, lazy drawl. Sponge Bob couldn't help but feel a sense of responsibility for his well-being. It was a strange feeling, but one that felt oddly right in that moment. Karen standing there, her robotic eyes blinking in surprise at the sight of him. "Karen?" Plankton mumbled, his voice groggy. "You came?" "Of course, I did, you little meatball," Karen said, her voice filled with the usual sass. "I'm your ride home." She looked at Sponge Bob with gratitude. Sponge Bob helped Plankton sit up, who was still groggy from the anesthesia. "Thanks for taking care of him," Karen said, her tone softer than Sponge Bob had ever heard. "No problem, Karen," he replied, his smile genuine. "He's... well, he's not all bad." Karen's expression softened, something Sponge Bob had rarely seen. "Thank you, Sponge Bob," she said, her robotic voice sounding almost warm. "You've always had a way of seeing the best in him." With Karen's help, they managed to get Plankton into the car. The drive to the Chum Bucket was a blur of twinkling streetlights and the soothing hum of the engine. Plankton leaned his head against the window, eye half-closed, mumbling to himself about jellyfish ballet and the beauty of Krabby Patties. Karen chuckled, shaking her head at his nonsensical ramblings. Sponge Bob sat in the back, feeling a strange mix of amusement and concern. He'd never seen Plankton like this before— so vulnerable, so open. It was as if the surgery had peeled back a layer of his tough exterior, revealing the softer core beneath. Karen navigated the streets of Bikini Bottom with ease, the neon lights of the underwater city reflecting off her metallic exterior. Plankton's mumbling grew quieter, his breaths deepening as the painkillers and exhaustion pulled him into a sleep. Sponge Bob watched him, his thoughts swirling with a newfound understanding of the tiny villain. As they approached the Chum Bucket, the garish sign loomed over them, its neon lights flickering like a beacon in the murky water. The car came to a gentle stop outside the grimy building, and Sponge Bob helped Karen unbuckle Plankton from his seat. "Careful," Karen warned, her robotic arm steadying him as they made their way to the door. The inside of the Chum bucket was a stark contrast to the hospital—messy and cluttered with contraptions and half-eaten food. Plankton's eye lit up with a mix of pain and nostalgia as he took in his surroundings. "Home sweet home," he slurred, his smile genuine despite the chaos. Sponge Bob and Karen managed to get him into his bed, the springs groaning under his weight. Plankton looked up at them with a dazed expression. "Than...thank you," he mumbled, his eye already drooping again. Karen turned to Sponge Bob, her robotic eyes gleaming in the dim light of the room. "Thank you for being here," she said, her voice filled with a rare sincerity. "I know we haven't always seen eye-to-eye, but you're a true friend to him." Sponge Bob felt a warmth spread through his pores, his eyes misting over slightly. "It's... it's no problem, Karen," he stuttered, feeling a lump in his throat. "He's... well, he's Plankton." Karen's robotic hand patted his shoulder in a rare gesture of camaraderie. "You're a good sport, Sponge Bob," she said, a hint of affection in her voice. "Now, let him get some rest. He's going to need it." With a nod, Sponge Bob retreated to the living room, his mind racing with thoughts of the day's events. He couldn't shake the image of Plankton's sincere smile, nor the gentle warmth that had filled his heart when he heard the words 'best friend'. It was a side of Plankton he had never seen before— a vulnerable, endearing side. He glanced around the cluttered room, noticing the faded family photos and half-built inventions scattered across the surfaces. There was more to the villain than met the eye. As the hours ticked by, Plankton's snores grew quieter, the anesthesia's grip on him loosening. Sponge Bob sat on the floor, surrounded by a pile of Plankton's favorite comic books and a half-eaten bag of jellyfish jellies. He couldn't help but feel a strange sense of belonging in the enemy's lair. It was peaceful, in a chaotic sort of way. The room was a testament to Plankton's life: a mishmash of inventions, half-finished plans, and the ever-present scent of chum. Yet, amidst the clutter, there was a comforting familiarity. The walls were lined with shelves of dusty tomes titled "1001 Ways to Steal a Recipe" and "The Art of the Scheme." Above the bed, a poster of the Krabby Patty looked down, a silent judge of Plankton's many failed attempts to crack its secret. Sponge Bob sat by the bedside, his spongy form hunched over with concern. The light from the hallway cast an eerie glow across the room, illuminating Plankton's sleeping form. The snores were soft and rhythmic, a stark contrast to the usual cacophony of his machinations. As the hours passed, Plankton's snores grew quieter, and his eyelid began to flutter open. His pupil were still hazy, but there was a spark of recognition in them as they focused on the yellow sponge hovering over him. "S...Sponge Bob?" he mumbled, his voice hoarse. Sponge Bob jolted to attention, his eyes widening. "You're awake!" he exclaimed, a relieved smile spreading across his face. Plankton squinted, his eye slowly focusing on the sponge above him. "What...what are you doing here?" he asked, his voice groggy and confused. "I brought you home from the hospital," Sponge Bob said, his smile gentle. "You had your wisdom teeth out, remember?" Plankton's eye grew wide as the events of the day flooded back to him. "H-hospital?" he stuttered, his hand flying to his mouth. His cheeks felt puffy and tender, a stark reminder of the surgery he had just undergone. Sponge Bob nodded, his eyes filled with empathy. "Yeah, buddy," he said, his voice soothing. "You had a bit of a tough day, but you're okay now." Plankton's gaze darted around the room, his brain slowly piecing together the puzzle of the day. "How... how did we get here?" he mumbled, his voice still thick with sleep. Sponge Bob chuckled, his smile gentle. "Karen picked us up and brought us here," he explained, his voice a soothing lullaby in the quiet room. "You were out of it pretty much the whole time." Plankton's hand fell to the bed with a soft thump. "Karen...right," he murmured, his eye drooping again. The painkillers were still working their magic, but the fog in his head was starting to lift. He vaguely remembered the car ride, the neon lights of Bikini Bottom's streets blurring together in a kaleidoscope of color. Sponge Bob watched with a gentle smile, his eyes filled with a warmth that Plankton hadn't seen in a long time. "Do you need anything?" he offered, his hand hovering over the bedside table, ready to fetch a glass of water or a fresh pillow. Plankton's eye searched Sponge Bob's face, looking for a sign of the usual sarcasm or competitive edge. But all he found was genuine concern. "No, I'm ok," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Just... stay for a bit?" Sponge Bob's smile grew, and nodded without hesitation. "Of course, Plankton," he said, settling beside the bed. "I'm not going anywhere."

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ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: ┃ ┃ ɴᴇᴇᴅʟᴇs, ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ "You okay?" Karen's voice was a gentle caress in the cold antiseptic room. Plankton nodded, his eye tightly shut. The nurse had told him it would be quick, that he'd be under before he knew it, but that didn't stop his heart from thudding like a bass drum. He took a deep breath, trying to ignore the cold hands fussing over him, the tightening of the blood pressure cuff around his arm. "Count backward from ten," the anesthesiologist's voice was calm and steady, as if he did this a thousand times a day. Plankton obliged, his voice quivering on each number. "Ten... nine... eight..." The world grew fuzzy around the edges, the cold metal of the bed beneath him feeling like it was sinking. "Seven... six... five..." His body grew heavier, each breath more difficult to draw in. Karen squeezed his hand tightly, her eyes brimming with tears she refused to let fall. The doctor's face grew distant, his voice a distant echo. With a final exhale, the room faded to black. Plankton was now adrift in a sea of oblivion, his bødy relaxed and weightless. 🦷🦷🦷🦷 The surgical team waited a moment, watching the monitors. The anesthesiologist then nodded to the surgeon, who carefully lifted Plankton's eyelid, revealing a sti̕ll, unseeing eye, then shining a light to his pupil before closing his eyelid again. He then took a reflex hammer and tapped gently on Plankton's knee. No reaction. The nurse noted the time. "He's under," she murmured. They went through the checklist, ensuring his bødy was completely relaxed, his reflexes gone. The surgeon smiled at Karen, who had been watching anxiously from her seat. "Everything's going to be okay," he assured her. She nodded. Karen watched, as Plankton's fac͘e remained peaceful, his breathing steady under the influence of the anesthesia. The surgery began with a whir of instruments. Plankton's mouth was propped open, a rubber dam holding back his tóngue. The surgeon leaned in, peering into the cavern of his møuth, a flashlight illuminating the pearly white teeth and the troublesome wisdom teeth that had been causing him so much pain. He selected a tool, a kind of plier-like instrument, and with a gentle but firm touch, began to probe at the first tooth. Karen's stߋmach clenched as she saw the surgeon's hand move with precision, applying just enough pressure to loosen the tooth. She tried to focus on her breathing, willing her heart to slow down. The room was filled with the faint smell of antiseptic and the metallic scent of dental instruments. Plankton's face remained serene, his chest rising and falling steadily as he lay unaware of the work being performed on him. The first tooth came out with a sudden pop, making Karen flinch. The nurse quickly handed over a small metal tray, catching the tooth as it was extracted. The surgeon worked with a methodical calm, moving on to the next one without pause. Karen squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, only to open them again as she heard the sound of Plankton's snoring, the kind that only came when he was in a deep sleep. It was strange, comforting even, to know that his bødy was oblivious to the paın that had been plaguing him for weeks. The second wisdom tooth proved to be more stubborn. The surgeon muttered something to his assistant, who nodded and handed him a different tool. Karen's grip on Plankton's hand tightened, her knucklєѕ white with tension. She could feel the sweat beading on his palm despite the coolness of the room. The surgeon's expression grew more focused, his movements more deliberate as he worked to free the tooth from its bony prıson. The tension in the room was almost palpable. The only sounds were the muffled beeps of the heart monitor and the slight sucking noıse as the surgeon worked in Plankton's møuth. Karen's eyes darted around the surgery, taking in the gleaming tools, the blue-green light of the overhead lamp, the masked faces of the medical staff. The nurse noticed her distress and offered a reassuring smile, but it did little to ease her mind. She wanted to scream, to tell them to be careful, but she knew better than to disturb the surgery. With a grunt of effort, the surgeon finally managed to loosen the second tooth. Karen could feel Plankton's hand spasm in hers, a reflexive response that had her heart racing. But his face remained serene, his snores unchanged. She watched as the tooth was lifted out, a tiny drop of b!ood escaping from the gum. It was placed on the tray with its twin, two small, sharp reminders of the paın he had endured. The surgeon moved to the third tooth, his movements now more practiced, more confident. The extraction of the third tooth was swift, almost anticlimactic. The fourth, however, was a different story. It was impacted, buried deep in the bone, and the surgeon's expression grew taut as he attempted to coax it out. Karen could feel the tension in the room, the air thick with it. The whirring of the drill was a steady background noise, punctuated by the occasional spurt of water and the smell of bone dust. Plankton's chest continued to rise and fall evenly. The surgeon leaned in closer, his brow furrowed with concentration. Karen watched as beads of sweat formed on his forehead, despite the coolness of the surgıcal suite. The nurse stood by, ready with gauze and more tools. Plankton's face was a mask of peace, his møuth a dısturbıng contrast of serenity and the tug of war taking place within. With a final, firm pull, the fourth tooth gave way, accompanied by a sound that made Karen's stߋmach churn. It was a wet, final release, and the nurse swiftly handed over the tray to catch the tooth. The surgeon wiped the b!ood with a quick, efficient motion, revealing the gaping hole where the tooth once had been. The surgical assistant suctioned the b!ood, the sound echoing in the quiet room. Plankton's bødy jerked slightly, but he remained asleep, lost in the depths of the anesthesia. Karen couldn't help but think about the paın Plankton must have felt before this moment. The constant, throbbing ache that had kept him up at night, the swollen jaw that had made eating a chore. Now, it was over, or at least the worst part was. The surgeon nodded to the nurse, who began to prepare the stitches that would close the wounds. The needle glinted in the harsh light, a stark contrast to Plankton's slack, unfeeling features. The surgical team moved efficiently, their movements choreographed by years of experience. They stitched and cleaned, ensuring that everything was perfect before they allowed him to wake. Karen felt a strange mix of relief and fear. Relief that the ordeal was almost over, fear of the paın that would come once the anesthesia wore off. As the surgeon finished his work, he nodded to the anesthesiologist. "He's all set. We're going to start bringing him out of it now." Karen watched as the anesthetic was turned down. The nurse wiped his face with a damp cloth, gently cleaning the b!ood and saliva. Karen spoke to him in a soothing voice, "Plankton, you're almost done. Time to wake up." Plankton's eyelid fluttered, his hand still in Karen's tight grasp. His eye opened slowly, unfocused at first, then gradually finding her face. He blinked several times, his gaze uncomprehending. The nurse smiled at him, "You did great."
NOTHING BUT THE WISDOM TRUTH i "Why do we have to go so early?" he grumbled. "I know, sweetie," Karen said, patting his hand reassuringly. "But it's for the best. You'll be out like a light during the surgery, and you won't feel a thing." The nurse noticed his distress and offered a kind smile. "Don't worry, Mr. Plankton. We're going to make this as comfortable for you as possible. First things first, let's get you in and then we'll start with some anesthesia." Karen watched as Plankton reluctantly climbed into the chair. The nurse dimmed the lights and adjusted the chair's recline. She placed a warm blanket over him, and the softness enveloped him like a comforting embrace, the nurse preparing Plankton for the surgery. She chatted away, "So, any plans for the weekend?" "Not really," he said, "Just recovery." The nurse nodded. She began to insert the IV, talked him through each step, her voice a comforting lullaby guiding him into a state of relaxation. She continued to engage in light conversation, told about her weekend plans, a lifeline to the outside world that seemed so far away in the cold, clinical environment. As the anesthesia began to work, Plankton felt his body grow heavier, his eyelid drooping. "You're doing great," she said softly. "Just keep breathing, ok?" Plankton's thoughts began to blur together. The doctor's voice grew distant, his words melding into a comforting murmur as Plankton felt himself slipping away. The last thing he heard was Karen's voice, a gentle whisper in his ear. "I'm here," she said, her hand holding onto his with a fierce tenderness. "I love you." And then there was nothing, the last sensation he felt before everything went quiet. The anesthetist monitored Plankton's vitals, ensuring he remained safely asleep throughout the procedure. Plankton was a picture of peace, mouth agape as the anesthesia kept him blissfully unaware of the world around him. The nurse's eyes flick from the monitors to Plankton's serene face. Plankton's body didn't even flinch. Plankton's face remained relaxed, his breathing even, as the anesthetic kept him in a state of blissful unconsciousness, ensuring that his comfort remained top priority. Plankton's body remained still, his chest rising and falling in a rhythmic cadence that soothed the room. The nurse gently swabbed his mouth, keeping the area clean and clear. The doctor stitched up the small incisions with a gentle touch, while the nurse cleaned Plankton's mouth. The anesthetist monitored the levels, ensuring a smooth and safe emergence from the depths of unconsciousness. The doctor looked at Karen, his eyes weary but his smile reassuring. "It's all done," he said. "Everything went smoothly. He's still sleeping it off, but you can go in and see him." Karen rushed in, her screen searching for Plankton. He was there, lying back in the chair, his mouth slightly open, a line of drool escaping the corner of his mouth. He looked so peaceful, vulnerable. She reached out and touched his hand, for the surgery was over. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm as he slept. "He's doing great," she assured her. "The surgery went well." Karen leaned over Plankton, as she brushed his antennae with her hand. She took in the sight of him, the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the soft snorish sounds escaping his mouth. His face was a portrait of peace, a stark contrast to the chaos of the surgery that had just taken place. The nurse finished her work and dimmed the lights, leaving the room in a soft glow that cast shadows across the floor. Karen pulled up a chair and sat down, her hand finding Plankton's again. "You're ok," she murmured, willing him to hear her voice, to feel her presence. "You're going to be ok." Karen's entire world was contained in reassuring her that he was still there. The nurse approached with a wad of gauze. "We need to put this in his mouth to help with bleeding," she explained gently. Karen nodded. The nurse placed the gauze with the same care she had shown throughout the entire ordeal, pressing it gently against the raw, tender spots where Plankton's teeth had once been. The nurse finished her cleanup and checked Plankton's vitals one last time. "He'll come around soon," she assured. "The anesthesia takes a bit to wear off." His breathing was still deep and steady, the gentle rumble of his snores filling the room. She found comfort in the mundane sounds of his slumber. His chest rose and fell in a rhythm that seemed to match the beeping of the heart monitor. The anesthesia had done its job well, leaving him in a deep, dreamless sleep. His face was serene. His antennae lay limp on the chair's headrest, and his mouth was open slightly, revealing the gauze the nurse had placed to stem the bleeding. The drool that had pooled at the corners of his mouth began to seep out onto the chair. The nurse noticed and nodded, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "It's normal," she said. Plankton's snores grew louder, the drool now a small river that trickled down. Karen reached out with a trembling hand, her thumb catching the droplets before they could stain the fabric. The drool was a stark reminder of the reality of the situation. Her screen focused on the slow, steady flow of dribble, forming and breaking away, each one a little more substantial than the last. The nurse had said it was normal, but to Karen, it was a sign of his vulnerability, a tangible proof of the surgery's aftermath. As the drool grew into a small puddle on the chair, Karen's resolve to be strong for him grew stronger. She grabbed a tissue from the box on the side table and gently wiped. The nurse looked at her with understanding. "It's alright," she said softly. "He'll wake un his own time." Karen nodded, her screen never leaving Plankton's face. She felt a strange mix of love and pity. Here he was, reduced to a drooling mess in a chair, and yet she had never felt more connected to him. It was a strange intimacy, this moment of vulnerability, a silent pact between them that she would always be there to wipe away his fears, both literal and figurative. The nurse moved around the room, her movements efficient and silent. She checked the machines one last time before turning to Karen. "Why don't you sit down?" she suggested, patting the chair beside Plankton's. "It'll be a bit before he wakes up. Might as well get comfortable." Karen nodded, taking a deep breath to calm her nerves. She pulled up a chair and held his hand tightly, her thumb brushing back and forth across his knuckles. "Plankton," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. "You did it, sweetie." She leaned closer. "The teeth are out. You're okay." She waited, watching the rise and fall of his chest, listening to the steady beep of the heart monitor, and willing him to open his eye. "Remember what I said about ice cream?" she asked, her voice a little louder this time. "You can have as much as you want when we get home." She tried to keep her tone light, despite the gravity of the situation. The thought of his favorite mint chocolate chip ice cream was supposed to make him smile, but his face remained slack. But she knew he was strong, and he would bounce back. He always did. "I just want you to know how much I love you. How much I need you. We've been through so much together, and I can't imagine my life without you. You're going to wake up soon, and it'll all be over. And then we can go home, and I'll take care of you, just like you always take care of me. Remember when we said 'in sickness and in health'?" she whispered. "Well, this is definitely a 'sickness' moment, but I'm right here. And I'll be here through all the healthy moments too." The nurse quietly left them a moment of privacy. Karen leaned in closer. "You're going to feel a bit funny when you wake up," she said with a soft laugh. "Your mouth will be sore, and your face will be puffy. But I'll be there. And maybe I'll let you win at Scrabble for once." She chuckles. "Just don't let it go to your head." Plankton's eyelid fluttered, and a low moan escaped his throat. She squeezed his hand. "That's it, baby," she encouraged. "You're waking up." His eye opened slowly dilated and unfocused. He blinked a few times, trying to adjust to the harsh lights of the recovery room. He turned his head to the side, and she knew he was searching for her. "Hi," she said, her voice a warm whisper. "It's me, Karen. You're ok." His gaze found hers, and she saw the flicker of recognition. "Where am I?" he slurred, his voice thick and groggy. "You're in the recovery room, sweetheart," Karen said, her voice steady and soothing. "You just had your wisdom teeth out." Plankton's eye widened slightly, and he nodded, trying to sit up. Karen gently pushed him back down. "Easy," she said. "You need to rest." "But I'm so tired," he mumbled, his voice weak. "I know," Karen said, stroking his forehead with her cool hand. "But you're doing great. Just stay still for a little while longer. They got all four teeth out without any complications." He nodded, his eye still closed. "Good," he mumbled.
☆ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ "You nervous?" Karen asked. Plankton was about to undergo the ordeal of getting wisdom teeth removed. Dr. McStingray entered the room with a gentle smile and a reassuring pat on Plankton's shoulder. "Just breathe in deeply," he instructed. Plankton's eye grew heavy by the time he felt the chair recline, the last sensation he recalled. The room grew quieter as anesthesia took hold and the steady beep of the monitor filled the space like a metronome. Karen remained fixed on her husband's face, a mask of serene oblivion. Now, watching Plankton's open mouth, she felt a strange mix of relief and anxiety. The surgical team moved with precision. Dr. McStingray donned his magnifying glasses, peering into the cavernous mouth. His assistant, a young woman with a gentle touch, prepared the instruments on a gleaming tray. Karen could see the muscles in his jaw twitch slightly, but otherwise, he remained still and silent, his breathing deep and even. The assistant passed Dr. McStingray the necessary instruments with swift, practiced motions. Each item was sterilized, each step carefully explained to Karen to ease her worries. She nodded, trying to focus on the technicalities rather than the reality of her husband's mouth being pried open and his teeth being forcibly extracted. The doctor's hand hovered over Plankton's mouth, his fingers poised like a pianist's. He took one final look at the x-ray before plunging into the surgery. The drill whirred to life once more, a high- pitched sound that seemed to echo in the small space. Karen closed her eyes, not wanting to see the actual extraction, but the sound was too much. She quickly opened them again, forcing herself to watch. The nurse handed Dr. McStingray the forceps. With a swift, confident movement, he clamped down on the first tooth. Plankton's face remained slack, but Karen could almost feel the pressure building in the air around them. The doctor's grip tightened, his knuckles white with focus. He applied gentle force, rocking the tooth back and forth. There was a faint crack, and Karen swallowed hard, her heart racing. The sound grew louder as the doctor worked, the forceps scraping against bone. The tension grew palpable, even though Plankton remained unconscious. Each tug was accompanied by a soft groan from the chair, as if it too sympathized with the struggle. The young assistant offered words of encouragement, her voice low and soothing. The first tooth gave way suddenly, and the doctor lifted it out with a flourish, like a magician pulling a coin from behind an ear. The nurse dabbed at Plankton's mouth with a cotton swab, the crimson stain stark against the white cloth. Karen felt a pang of nausea, but she couldn't look away. The surgical site was a bloody mess, but the doctor's steady hands were already moving on to the next tooth. The dance of instruments resumed, a symphony of clinking steel and suction whirring as they cleared the debris away. The second tooth was stubborn, embedded deeper than the first. Dr. McStingray paused, studying the x-ray once more before diving in. This time, the process was more intense, the chair's hydraulics hissing with each push and pull. Karen's knuckles were white as she gripped the chair, her eyes glued to the scene unfolding before her. The forceps clamped down, the doctor's face a mask of concentration. The room grew silent save for the steady beep of the monitor and the occasional slurp of saliva being suctioned away. Sweat beaded on Dr. McStingray's forehead, and his grip on the tools tightened. He applied more pressure, and Karen could see the muscles in his arms tense. The tooth resisted, rooted like an ancient tree in the rock of Plankton's jaw. The doctor's face grew stern, his brow furrowed in determination. He leaned in closer, his breath misting his mask as he whispered to the assistant, who nodded and passed him a different instrument. The new tool was a wrench-like contraption, designed to grip the tooth more securely. With a swift twist, the doctor applied torque to the wisdom tooth. Karen's heart thudded in her chest, mirroring the tooth's struggle for freedom. The chair's mechanisms groaned in sympathy as Plankton's mouth was opened wider. The young assistant's eyes met Karen's, and she offered a quick nod of reassurance. But the tension didn't abate. The tooth was a stubborn sentinel, refusing to be moved. The doctor's grip was firm, his knuckles bulging against the chrome handle of the tool. He pulled with a slow, steady force, his biceps flexing with the effort. The sound of bone and tooth grating against each other was muffled by the suction's constant whisper. Karen's eyes watered, not from pain but from the sheer intensity of the scene. Plankton's body remained still, his chest rising and falling rhythmically with each breath. With a final, decisive yank, the second tooth was freed from its prison. The doctor held it up to the light, inspecting the gnarled root before dropping it into a metal tray with a clink. The nurse swabbed the blood away with a gentle touch, and Karen let out the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. The third tooth was the easiest, sliding out as if it had been waiting for its turn to escape. The room felt lighter, the tension dissipating like the evaporating mist of the antiseptic spray. The last tooth, however, was a different beast entirely. It was lodged in at an angle, trapped by the crowded jaws of its neighbors. Dr. McStingray paused, wiping his brow with the back of his hand. He glanced at Karen, his eyes flickering with concern. "This one might take a bit longer," he said, his voice calm despite the gravity of his words. The nurse applied pressure to Plankton's cheek, pushing his mouth open wider to give the doctor a better angle. The young assistant readied herself, gripping a pair of retractors. The doctor inserted them carefully, spreading the gum tissue to expose the trapped tooth. Karen could see the tiny bead of sweat forming on Plankton's temple, even though he was unconscious. Dr. McStingray selected a slender, curved scalpel and began to cut the gum away from the final tooth. The scalpel was precise, a delicate instrument in the hands of a master. The tissue parted like the pages of an old book, revealing the wisdom tooth's crooked root in all its glory. The doctor's hand was a blur of motion, his scalpel carving a path through the swollen gum tissue. Blood flowed freely, and the assistant quickly placed a gauze pad to. With a flick of his wrist, Dr. McStingray severed the last connective tissue, freeing the final tooth. The nurse suctioned the area once more, the sound of the machine like a sigh of relief. The doctor then picked up a set of stitches, his hands moving with the precision of a seamstress on a tight deadline. He began to sew up the gum, his fingers moving in a quick, delicate dance. The needle glinted under the surgical lights as he pulled the thread through the tender flesh. Karen watched, but she knew this was a crucial part of the procedure. The stitches were tiny, almost invisible. Each one pulled the gum tissue together like the threads on a fine tapestry, weaving a pattern of recovery. The doctor's fingers moved with practiced ease, looping and tying off each suture with a gentle pull. As the final knot was tied, Dr. McStingray stood back, surveying his work with a critical eye. "We're all done," he announced, his voice soft and soothing. The assistant began to clean up the surgical field, the clinking of instruments a familiar symphony that signaled the end of the operation. The doctor turned to Karen, his smile warm. "He'll be waking up soon," he said, his gloved hands coming to rest on the chair's armrest. "The recovery will be a bit uncomfortable, but we've given him the best care possible." Karen nodded, her hands trembling slightly. The nurse began to clean Plankton's face, his breathing remained steady and deep. The anesthesia started to wear off, Plankton's eyes fluttered open. His gaze was hazy, trying to focus on the blurred shapes above him. The room was still, the only noise the faint beeping of the heart monitor. Karen reached for his hand, squeezing it tightly. "It's over," she whispered, her voice cracking with relief. The nurse applied pressure to the gauze in Plankton's mouth. He groaned softly, his voice muffled by the cotton wad. The nurse removed the cotton from his mouth, carefully checking the stitches. Dr. McStingray cleaned up the last of the blood, wiping Plankton's face with a cool cloth. His eye fluttered open, and Karen smiled down at him. "It's over," she murmured. "You did so well." Plankton groaned, his eye unfocused as the fog of sleep retreated. The pain was already setting in, a dull throb. "You're ok," she whispered, her hand shaking slightly as she stroked him.
WISDOMS i Plankton had an appointment at the dentist and Karen promised to take him. SpongeBob, an ever-cheerful neighbor, had offered to come along. The trio stepped out of the car, the door of dentist's office chiming a tune that seemed like the 'Jolly Roger' theme. Sponge Bob bounced in place. The door to the room opened, and in waddled Dr. Bubblefish. "Ah, Mr. Plankton, right on time for x-rays!" The room was a stark contrast to the playful tune. It smelled faintly of mint and antiseptic, with the metallic instruments glinting in bright lights. Dr. Bubblefish waddled over, his flippers moving swiftly as he gestured to the chair. Plankton's eye darts around. "Now, Mr. Plankton if you could just open wide," Dr. Bubblefish instructed holding up a contraption. Karen gave a gentle pat on his shoulder. "It's ok, Plankton. It'll be over before you know it," she assured with a comforting smile. Plankton took a deep breath and opened his mouth. Sponge Bob stood by his side. Dr. Bubblefish slid the x-ray plate in to place and positioned the contraption. "Here we go," he announced, as he stepped back and pressed the button. Sponge Bob watched in fascination. "Alright, all done!" The plate was removed, and Dr. Bubblefish took a moment to examine the results. "Hmm," he murmured, holding the film up to the light. "It seems we have a situation with your wisdom teeth." Plankton's eye bulged with alarm. "Wisdom teeth?" he squeaked. "But I'm a microscopic creature! I don't have room for those!" Dr. Bubblefish nodded solemnly. "Which is why we need to remove now them to prevent any issues." Karen's grip tightened on Plankton's shoulder. "Removal?" Dr. Bubblefish nodded. "It's the best course of action, a common procedure." The doctor led them into his office, walls lined with diplomas. Dr. Bubblefish noticed apprehension and offered a smile. "Now, Mr. Plankton, I know this might be a bit daunting, but I assure you, I'm quite skilled at working. Let's go over details of the procedure, shall we?" Karen's grip tightened more. "You're going to be ok," she whispered. Sponge Bob, the optimist, patted Plankton's arm. "Don't worry, buddy!" Plankton swallowed hard as he sat down in the chair. It was like sitting in a moon crater compared to his usual chair at the Chum Bucket. He gripped the chair's armrests. "But how does it work?" Plankton's voice tight with anxiety. "It's quite simple really. We use anesthesia," he explained, "which will drift off to sleep. You won't feel a thing." "It's like a little nap," Karen offered trying to ease his fears. Dr. Bubblefish nodded. "The anesthesia will make you unconscious for duration of the procedure. It's safe painless way to ensure you don't experience discomfort during extraction." The doctor began preparing. Sponge Bob looks through the window, mix of curiosity and concern. He had never seen anything like this. Plankton's eye pleaded with him for assurance, and Sponge Bob gave him a thumbs up. The chair reclined, and Karen held Plankton's hand tightly. "Ready?" Dr. Bubblefish asked, voice a gentle rumble. Plankton nodded, though his eye shut. Karen squeezed his hand. "You can do this, Plankton," she whispered. The doctor approached with what looked like a pair of tiny tongs. "This will help keep your mouth open," he said, inserting the device into Plankton's mouth. The nurse came over. "This is the anesthesia," she said cheerfully, tentacles flicking the air. "It'll make every thing nice and relaxing." Plankton nodded, his grip tightening. He felt the room spin. "Just breathe," Karen said, the only steady thing in the spinning room. "You're great." Sponge Bob watched as Plankton's eye lid grew heavy, his grip on chair armrests loosening. Dr. Bubblefish nods to the nurse. Plankton took a deep breath, eye shut, body went slack. His grip on the chair arm rests loosened and his breaths grew even. Karen felt a mix of relief and anxiety as the doctor nodded in satisfaction. "And he's out," he murmured. The room was silent except for the occasional blip of medical equipment and sound of Dr. Bubblefish preparing for the extraction. Karen's gaze fixed on Plankton, watching his chest rise and fall with each breath. Sponge Bob leaned in closer, his curiosity piqued. Plankton remained still, lost in his anesthesia-induced slumber. "Sponge Bob, you can wait out side now," Karen said gently never leaving her husband. After surgery, Karen calls Sponge Bob from the waiting room. "He's in recovery now," she says. "You can come see him." Sponge Bob bounces in, eyes wide with excitement. He goes in the room, his curiosity piqued by the sight of Plankton lying peacefully on the chair, his mouth slightly open but without the prop anymore. Plankton's hand lies limp on his own lap. The room remained silent except for the steady beep of the heart monitor and occasional snore from Plankton. "The surgery went well. He'll wake in a bit." Sponge Bob peers closer at Plankton, noticing drool formed at the corner of his mouth. He reaches out and gently strokes Plankton's forehead. "You're ok," he whispers. But Plankton was deep in the abyss of sleep, breathing even and calm. "What's that?" he pointed to a beeping machine. Karen looked over. "That's a monitor," she said softly. "It makes sure everything's ok with Plankton while he's out." The nurse comes in checking vitals. "He's doing great," she says with a nod. "He'll wake up soon." "Wakey, wakey, Plankton," Sponge Bob whispers, a hint of excitement in his voice. He reaches out a finger, gently poking Plankton's arm. No response. Plankton's chest continues to rise and fall rhythmically. Plankton didn't react. "Wow, he's really out," Sponge Bob murmured. "Just don't startle him. He'll wake up groggy." The nurse gently wiped Plankton's mouth with a damp cloth, cleaning away the drool. Plankton's head lolled to the side. "Alright, let's get some gauze," Dr. Bubblefish said, voice interrupting the quiet. Sponge Bob's eyes grew even wider as he watched the nurse carefully fold a piece of white gauze in to a minuscule square. It looked like a tiny cloud in her tentacle. She approached Plankton with the utmost care, as if handling some thing incredibly delicate. With a gentle touch, she inserted gauze into Plankton's mouth, pressing it against his gums. Plankton didn't flinch or stir, his breathing deep and even. The nurse stepped back and gave a satisfied nod. "Alright, he's all set," Dr. Bubblefish said, his voice a comforting rumble. "The gauze will help with any bleeding and keep the area clean." Karen nodded. "Thank you, doctor," she murmured. The room remained silent, except for the steady beep of the heart monitor and the occasional snore from Plankton. "Let's get you sitting up, Mr. Plankton," Dr. Bubblefish instructed as he lifted Plankton's head back up. The chair whirred in to an upright position. After a few moments, Plankton's eye lid began to flutter. He blinked, his vision blurry from anesthesia. He groaned, mouth feeling strange and full. "You're all done!" "Plankton," Karen says, voice soft and warm. Sponge Bob nods eagerly, his eyes never leaving Plankton's face. "How do you feel?" he asks. "Wha..." Plankton mumbles, voice muffled by the gauze. "Wh-where am I?" Karen chuckles. "You're in the dentist's office, Plankton. You had wisdom teeth removed." Sponge Bob's face lights up. "Yeah, buddy, you're all fixed up!" Karen gently helps Plankton sit up, supporting him with an arm around his back. "You're going to feel a bit woozy," she warns. Plankton spots Sponge Bob's grinning face. "Hey, Spongey," he says, his voice still slurred. "Hey, Planky!" Sponge Bob says, smile growing wide. "You're done! No more teeth woes for you!" "W-who's Planky?" Plankton mumbles, voice thick from anesthesia. Sponge Bob laughs, his laugh echoing. "That's you, buddy! Planky, Plankton!" "I survived the tooth monster.." Sponge Bob nods. "Yep, the pesky things in your mouth supposed to make smarter were just causing trouble!" "Troub...troub...tweef?" "Yes, Plankton. Your wisdom teeth are gone." "Miwwow, miwwow, on the wawl," he slurred, wobbly. "Do I wook smarter wi’out my tweef?" Patrick Star was waiting outside the dentist office, his large, star-shaped body leaning against the wall. Patrick Star was waiting outside the dentist's office, his large, star-shaped body leaning against the wall. He had heard that Sponge Bob was escorting Plankton and Karen to the appointment. Once Plankton was discharged, the four crammed into the car. Plankton sat in between Sponge Bob and Patrick, but was too groggy to care. Karen took the wheel, her grip firm. "Alright, let's get you home," she said, starting the engine.
WISDOMS ii The car pulled out of the dental office's lot, tires humming against the asphalt. "Hang in there buddy," Patrick said. Plankton's head lolled to the side, a stream of drool escaping the corner of his mouth. "Hey, Plankton, you ok?" Sponge Bob asked nudging him gently. Plankton's only response was a faint, "Mmph," as his head grew heavier and his body leaned in to Sponge Bob's side. Sponge Bob, ever the gentle soul, adjusted his position to accommodate his tiny friend, offering his shoulder as a makeshift pillow. The car's gentle sway and the comforting hum of the engine soon lulled Plankton into sleep. His breathing grew rhythmic as he snored lightly. Patrick leaned over to whisper, "Aw, isn't that cute?" Sponge Bob nodded, a soft smile spreading across his face. He knew Plankton had been nervous about the appointment. They had all been through a lot together but this was the first time Plankton had allowed himself to be this vulnerable. Patrick, ever the opportunist, decided to take advantage of the situation. He leaned over snapping a photo with his phone. "Look at this," he whispered to Karen, showing her the picture with a wide grin. Karen rolled her eyes, keeping her focus on the road. "You do know he's going to get you when he sees that, right?" Patrick just shrugged, his grin unwavering. "It's just a little joke, Karen. Besides, he's out cold." The car ride back to the Chum Bucket was quiet, only interrupted by the occasional snort from Plankton's snores and the soft murmur of the radio. Karen's eyes darted to the rearview mirror, watching the unlikely companions. Sponge Bob felt a strange sense of peace, his arm around his arch-nemesis-turned-friend providing comfort and support. As the car approached the Chum Bucket, Plankton's snores grew louder, echoing in the small enclosed space. Sponge Bob couldn't help but chuckle quietly, feeling the warmth and weight of his friend against him. It was a peculiar sight, the villainous Plankton, usually so full of energy and cunning schemes, now reduced to a sleeping, drooling mess. But in this moment, all animosity was forgotten. They were just friends sharing a car ride home after a long day. Karen pulled into the Chum Bucket's dilapidated parking lot, the headlights casting eerie shadows across the rusted metal exterior. She turned off the engine and the silence grew thick. Plankton's snores seemed to fill the void, a gentle reminder of the peacefulness that had descended upon them. Sponge Bob carefully lifted Plankton's head off his shoulder. "Hey, Plankton, we're home," he whispered. Plankton's eye fluttered open, and he looked around, momentarily confused. Then, he groaned and rubbed his jaw. "Oh," he mumbled, his voice thick. Sponge Bob and Patrick helped him out of the car, each taking an arm to support him as he swayed on his tiny legs. The anesthesia still had a firm grip on him, making his movements clumsy and awkward. "Careful," Karen warned. The two friends carefully maneuvered Plankton door of the Chum Bucket, his feet barely touching the ground as they shuffled along. Plankton's usual meticulousness had been replaced by post-surgical disarray. Sponge Bob and Patrick gently set him down on the couch. "I got you some new fresh gauze," Sponge Bob offered. "Open up!" Plankton, still groggy, opened his mouth allowed Sponge Bob to place the gauze. "Tanks," he murmured, his voice muffled by the material. He leaned back into the couch cushions, his eye drifting shut again. Patrick and Sponge Bob exchanged a look. "Do you need anything else?" Sponge Bob asked, his voice gentle and concerned. "N-no," Plankton stuttered. "Jush nee... tiwweeddd." "Alright, we'll be right here," Patrick assured him, plopping down onto an armchair. Sponge Bob took a seat on the floor beside the couch. Patrick, ever the one for a good laugh, couldn't resist teasing Plankton. "You know what they say, Plankton," he quipped. "A picture's worth a thousand words!" Sponge Bob shot him a warning look but Plankton was already snoring again, oblivious to the potential embarrassment that awaited him when he woke up. The two friends settled in for an unexpected night at the Chum Bucket. The next morning Plankton's the last to wake up, any trace of anesthesia now gone. He stirred slowly, his single eye blinking open to the harsh reality of daylight filtering through the grimy windows. His mouth felt like it was filled with cotton, and his jaw ached. He tried to sit up. "Whoa, easy," SpongeBob said, placing a comforting hand on Plankton's shoulder. "You had quite the nap." Plankton's eye widened as he took in his surroundings. He was in his own living room, but Sponge Bob and Patrick were sitting there, too. His mind raced as he tried to piece together what had happened. He touched his mouth gingerly, feeling the gauze. "Wh...what?" he croaked. Plankton's confusion grew as the fog of anesthesia lifted. "You had a little dental work done," Sponge Bob said with a smile. "Remember?" Plankton's eye narrowed as his only memories of yesterday began to flood back. The dentist's chair, the bright lights, and his mouth open for wisdom teeth? "You mean, I actually went through wivv it?" he whispered to himself, hand shooting to his mouth. "Yeah, you did," Patrick said, his grin spreading wider. "And you slept like a baby all the way home." Plankton looked down, his mind racing. "How did I get here?" he asked, his voice still thick with grogginess. "Well, you don't remember?" Patrick said with a smirk. "We had to practically carry you out of the dentist's office and into the car." "What? You... you carried me?" he sputtered, indignation rising in his tone. Sponge Bob nodded trying to keep his laughter at bay. "You were pretty out of it, Plankton." Plankton's eyes grew as realization sank in. "Wait, you thaw me wike that?" He sat up to quickly, wincing as pain shot through his jaw. "What did I do?" Sponge Bob handed him a glass of water. "Don't worry, you just fell asleep." Plankton took the water with a trembling hand, his mind racing. "But... what abou- my... my dignity?" Sponge Bob chuckled. "Don't worry Plankton. You've still got plenty of that. You just needed a little help, is all." Patrick couldn't resist adding fuel to the fire. "Yeah, you were so out of it, you didn't even notice when I took a selfie of us all in the car. Sponge Bob was being such a good nurse!" Plankton glowered at the starfish. "You what!" Patrick held up his phone, showing the incriminating photo. Plankton, mouth wide open and drooling, was sandwiched between the two friends. Sponge Bob looked concerned and slightly amused, while Patrick was grinning like he'd just won the Krabby Patty secret formula. "I sent it to ourselves!" "You... you..." he sputtered, unable to form a coherent sentence. The sight of himself drooling and vulnerable was so much. His pride had always been his armor, and it had been dented. Patrick chuckled, enjoying the moment. "Don't worry, Plankton. It'll be our little secret." "You're lucky I don't remember thish," he grumbled. Sponge Bob got fresh gauze for Plankton. "Open up," he instructed. With a begrudging sigh, Plankton complied. His mouth was a cavern of pain. Sponge Bob gently placed the gauze in, and Plankton couldn't help but wince. "Thanks," he murmured, his voice sounding even smaller than usual. The room was quiet for a moment, then, the silence was broken by a notification from Patrick's phone. He picked it up and looked at the screen, his grin growing even wider. "What?" Plankton asked suspiciously, his pride still bruised. Patrick couldn't hold it in any longer. He burst in to laughter, holding out his phone to show the latest meme he'd created from the photo. It was the picture of Plankton drooling onto Sponge Bob's shoulder, with the caption: "When you realize you're too small to get your own wisdom teeth out without snoring through it." Sponge Bob's cheeks turned pink with laughter, despite his efforts to remain serious. "Patrick, that's not nice," he managed to say between chuckles. "What? He did," Patrick exclaimed. Plankton's embarrassed. "I... I did not," he protested weakly. "Oh, but you did," Sponge Bob said, his laughter bubbling up. He couldn't help himself; the sight of Plankton all loopy from anesthesia was to much. "It was kind of adorable." Plankton huffed, but despite his embarrassment, he couldn't stay to mad at them. They had been there for him, and that was worth something. He took a sip of water. "You two are never to speak of this again." Sponge Bob and Patrick nodded solemnly. Eventually, Plankton's eye grew heavy again, and he drifted off into a nap. "Looks like he's out," Patrick said. Sponge Bob nodded, still smiling at the thought of Plankton's uncharacteristic vulnerability. "We should let him rest." Patrick stood up, stretching his arms. "Yeah, I guess we've had our fun for the day. Time to let you get back to your schemes, Plankton." Sponge Bob gently placed a pillow under Plankton's head. "Rest up, buddy. We can check on you later."
"Hi, my boss Mr. Krabs told me I need to work on my people skills and to volunteer.." SpongeBob says in the surgery room before recognizing Plankton and Karen. Plankton lay on the operating table, a small tube delivering medicine that kept him asleep. Karen sat by him. "Plankton‽" "Plankton's had his wisdom teeth removed." She glanced at the sleeping Plankton with affection. Sponge Bob leaned closer. He poked Plankton gently. "Hey, Plankton; wake up, buddy!" No response. Plankton's breathing remained slow and even, the rhythm unchanged by Sponge Bob's nudges. Karen's robotic hand shot up to stop Sponge Bob's poking. "He's not going to wake up anytime soon, Sponge Bob. The anesthesia will wear off in a couple of hours," she explained in her usual monotone. Sponge Bob's bubbly demeanor deflated a bit. He had never seen Plankton so... peaceful. Usually the tiny villain was full of mischief and plotting his next Krabby Patty heist. But the sight of his arch-nemesis helpless and snoring? "Karen, do you think a little light chat would help him wake up?" "Sponge Bob, the purpose of anesthesia is to keep him unconscious during surgery and ensure a painless recovery. Your efforts are futile." Undeterred, Sponge Bob leaned in closer. "Come on, Plankton. Time to wakey-wakey!" He waved his hands in front of Plankton's face, creating a gentle breeze that tickled his antennae. Still, Plankton remained steadfast in his slumber, oblivious to the world around him. Karen sighed again, the closest she ever got to expressing exasperation. "As I said, Sponge Bob, he's under the effects of anesthesia. There's nothing you can do to wake him up." She went back to reading her magazine, the glow from her screen casting a soft blue light on her metallic features. Sponge Bob studied Plankton's sleeping features. His mouth was open just enough to reveal his top row of teeth, and Sponge Bob had to stifle a giggle when a small bubble of drool formed at the corner of his mouth. "You know," he mused aloud, "I never realized Plankton had such a... cute snoring sound." The statement hung in the air, and even the normally stoic Karen couldn't resist cracking a smile. "Cute is hardly the word I'd use," she murmured, but the warmth in her voice belied the affection she had for her partner. Sponge Bob's curiosity grew as he continued to gaze at the unconscious Plankton. He'd seen him in various states before—angry, plotting and occasionally defeated—but never so vulnerable. The sight was strange yet fascinating. He reached out and carefully wiped away the drool. Plankton's head lolled to the side, but he remained asleep. SpongeBob put his head back up on a pillow. Plankton's snores grew quieter as his head settled into the cushioned embrace. "Don't worry, Plankton," he whispered, patting the villain's arm gently. "I'll watch over you." Sponge Bob's curiosity grew stronger as he watched the drool form at the side of Plankton's mouth. He leaned in closer, studying the phenomenon. He'd never noticed Plankton drool before. "It's like a tiny river," he said to himself. What would happen if he tried to touch it? He tapped it lightly. It wobbled, bulging slightly before collapsing back into its original state. He poked the drool again. This time, it grew slightly larger before popping, leaving a tiny, wet splatter on the pillow. Plankton's snores grew louder for a moment, but didn't stir. Sponge Bob couldn't resist a grin spreading across his face. "Looks like he's enjoying his nap," he whispered to Karen who remained engrossed in her magazine. The drool was fascinating—like a living organism, pulsating with every one of Plankton's breaths. He poked it again, gently this time. The drool grew larger, stretching out like a bubble of gum. It was almost mesmerizing. "I wonder if I can make it pop," he thought, eyes gleaming with child-like excitement. Slowly, Sponge Bob poked the drool bubble once more. It grew to the size of a marble before it burst with a tiny splat, splattering on to the pillow. Plankton's snoring remained undisturbed. Sponge Bob could see the light from the ceiling reflecting off the droplet's surface. He waited, the anticipation building, eyes fixed on the wobbling mass. At the last second, he poked it. The bubble popped with a sound that echoed through the quiet room. Plankton's snore caught in his throat for a split second, then resumed with renewed vigor. The splatter was more substantial this time, leaving a wet spot on the pillow. The sudden noise made Karen look up from her magazine. "What on earth are you doing, Sponge Bob?" she asked, voice a mix of annoyance and amusement. "Just... science," Sponge Bob said, his grin unabated. "I'm studying Plankton's snoring pattern... and drool." Karen rolled her digital eyes. "Fine. Just don't wake him. And for the love of Krabby Patties, please don't make a mess." She returned her focus to her magazine, seemingly unfazed by the sight of her arch-enemy playing with drool. Sponge Bob nodded solemnly, his eyes lighting up with newfound purpose. He decided to be more strategic in his scientific endeavor. He would need precision and timing. The drool bubble grew again, this time larger and more robust. Sponge Bob waited, his heart beating faster with every pulse of Plankton's snore. He took a deep breath, held it, and at the peak of the snore's crescendo, poked the bubble with a controlled flick. It exploded with a sound like a miniature water balloon, splattering across Plankton's cheek. The pillow was now a Jackson Pollock canvas of drool. Plankton's snoring hitched but he didn't wake. "Oops," Sponge Bob whispered, giggling quietly. He reached for a near by tissue to clean up the mess, his eyes glancing nervously at Karen. She peeked over her magazine, the corners of her robotic mouth curving upward slightly. "If you're going to play, at least be tidy," she said, voice a blend of reprimand and amusement. Sponge Bob nodded, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Of course, Karen," he whispered back, dabbing at Plankton's cheek with the tissue. The drool was sticky and clung to the fabric but Sponge Bob managed to clean when Plankton's snoring hitched. This time, Plankton's eyes opened a crack, his single eyelid revealing a sliver of his iris before dropping shut again. "What's going on?" he mumbled sleepily. Sponge Bob froze, tissue in mid-air. "Oh nothing," he said quickly, trying to sound nonchalant. "Just admiring your snoring." Plankton's eyelid quivered but remained shut. "Mmph." His mouth moved around the word. "Don't worry, buddy," Sponge Bob said softly patting Plankton's arm. "You're just resting. Nothing to worry about." The half-awake Plankton mumbled something unintelligible, and Sponge Bob took it as a sign to back off. He retreated to his chair, watching as Karen put down her magazine and began to fuss over Plankton, checking his vitals and making sure he was comfortable. For once, he wasn't at odds with Plankton.
NOTHING BUT THE WISDOM TRUTH ii "You're in the recovery room, sweetheart," Karen said, her voice steady and soothing. "You just had wisdom teeth out." Plankton's eye widened slightly, and he nodded, trying to sit up. Karen gently pushed him back down. "Easy," she said. "You need to rest." "But I'm so tired," he mumbled, his voice weak. "I know," Karen said, stroking his forehead with her hand. "But you're doing great. Just stay still for a little while longer. They got all four teeth out without any complications." He nodded, his eye still closed. "Good," he mumbled. "I don't... I don't member any ting." His words were slurred. The anesthesia was definitely still working its magic on him. "It's ok," she said, her voice soothing. "You don't need to.." Plankton's head lolled to the side, and his eyelid grew heavy again. "Karen?" he murmured, his voice thick with sleep. "I'm right here," she assured him, her voice steady and calm. She watched as he tried to lift his hand to wipe at his mouth, but it flopped back down onto the chair's armrest, his fingers brushing against hers. Plankton's eye grew heavy again, and his head lolled to the side. The anesthesia was working its way out of his system, but it was taking its time. She chuckled as she watched him struggle to keep his eye open. "I'm... I'm," Plankton mumbled, his words coming out slurred and sloppy. His eye rolled back in his head, and he let out a snore. "You're a mess," she laughs, her voice filled with love. "But you're my mess." She watched as his chest rose and fell with each snore. It was clear that the anesthesia was still holding him in its grasp, and she knew it would be a while before he was fully awake. Karen couldn't help but laugh at his antics. Plankton's snores grew louder. Karen reached out and gently wiped the line of drool from his mouth with a tissue. He stirred, his eye blinking open again. "You're drooling," she whispered, smiling at him. "What's happening?" he asked, his words slurred. "You're coming out of the anesthesia," Karen said, her voice a lifeline in the haze. "Everything went fine." Plankton's eye searched hers, his thoughts racing. "Mmmy...nesia?" he mumbled. Karen's smile grew, understanding his attempt to ask about his sleep during surgery. "You mean the anesthesia?" Karen couldn't help but chuckle at his endeavor. "You're just a little out of it," she said, her voice gentle. "The anesthesia is wearing off." "Thish...thish ish...shomefinny," Plankton tried to say. "What?" Karen asked, her curiosity piqued by his attempt at speech. "Nothin'." Plankton's words were slurred into a single syllable. He looked utterly lost in the haze. Karen leaned closer. "You sure?" Plankton nodded, his smile lopsided. "Jush...jush glad." Karen couldn't help but laugh at his adorable incoherence. "You're so loopy," she said, her voice filled with affection. She squeezed his hand gently. "I love you." "Ish love...love you too, Karen," he slurred. "I know," she said, her voice a mix of amusement and affection. "Tish...tish hard," Plankton mumbled, his cheeks dimpling with his own private joke. The nurse entered the room, checking his vitals with a knowing smile. "It's normal for patients to be a bit out of it after surgery," she said, scribbling notes on her clipboard. "I'm shorry," he said, words still a jumble. Karen couldn't help but lean in closer, her own smile growing wider. "It's ok," she assured him, her voice gentle. The nurse nodded in agreement, her own smile playing at the corners of her lips. "It's quite common," she said, her voice professional but kind. "Ish...Ish...it...over?" he managed to ask, his tongue thick in his mouth. "Yes, sweetheart," Karen said, her voice still filled with love and amusement. "You're all done. They got all your wisdom teeth out." "Thish...thish allll over now-ow." "Almost," Karen said, her voice a gentle melody. "We just need to wait for the anesthesia to wear off a bit more, and then we can go home." Plankton nodded, his eye already drifting shut again. His mouth moved as he attempted to speak, but only slurred sounds came out. Karen leaned in closer, her smile never wavering. "You know, you're pretty chatty for someone who's had their wisdom teeth out." "Ish...Ish always had...shomeshin' to shay," Plankton managed, his speech a series of lisped and elongated sounds. Plankton's eye began to drift closed again, his breathing growing deep and even. The nurse finished her checks and gave Karen instructions for his aftercare. "Make sure he takes it easy," she said. "I will," Karen promised, her screen never leaving Plankton's face. The quiet was filled with the sound of Plankton's snores, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm beneath the blanket. His mouth was still slightly open, and she could see the drool forming at the corner of his lips. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she pulled it out to see a text from Mr. Krabs, Plankton's rival at the Krabby Patty. "How's he doing?" it read. "Loopy," she replied with a smiley face. She had told Mr. Krabs about the surgery the day before, and despite their rivalry, he had offered to come visit when they get back home. The nurse poked her head back in, checking the clock on the wall. "Alright, he's ready to go," she said, her smile warm. Karen nodded, standing up and gently shaking Plankton's shoulder. "Come on," she whispered. "Let's get you home." Plankton's eye blinked open slowly, and he looked around the room with confusion. "Home?" he mumbled, his voice still thick. "Yes, we're going home," Karen said, her voice the balm to his disorientation. She helped him to his feet, supporting his weight as he swayed slightly. The drive back home was a blur of sleep. Plankton's head lolled against the car window, the vibration of the engine lulling him to a doze. "You okay?" Karen asked, glancing at him in the rearview mirror. "Yeah," Plankton mumbled, his voice a sleepy rumble. "Just...tiwed." The drive home was quiet, with only the occasional snore piercing the silence. Karen drove carefully, her eyes flicking between the road and the mirror to check on Plankton. She knew he would be out for the count for a while, and his face was still swollen. As they pulled into their driveway, Plankton stirred. "We're home," Karen said, her voice gentle. He nodded, his eye still half-closed. "Home," he murmured. Karen helped him out of the car, his legs wobbly as he tried to find his balance. She wrapped his arm around her waist, supporting him as they made their way, and he leaned into her, his body heavy with fatigue. The house was quiet as they entered, the only sound the occasional tick of the grandfather clock in the hallway. Karen guided him to the couch, carefully helping him sit down. "Rest here," she said, her voice a gentle command. Plankton nodded, eye closing again. She disappeared into the kitchen, returning with a glass of water and a pillow. "Here," she said, placing the pillow behind his head. He took the glass with a nod, his hand shaking slightly. He took a sip. "Thish...thish ish...good," he managed to say. She knew he was in pain, and the anesthesia was only adding to his confusion. "I'll be right back," she said, her voice a soft whisper. Karen grabbed the pet amoeba puppy, Spot. She carried him back to the living room, where Plankton was slowly coming around. "Look who's here," she said, holding Spot out to him. Spot's blob-like body stretched out in excitement, his little legs waving in the air. Plankton's eye widened at the sight, and a smile spread across his swollen face. "Spot," he murmured, his voice still thick with anesthesia. Karen set Spot on his lap, and the amoeba immediately began to cover him in wet, loving kisses. Plankton chuckled, his hand rising to pet the creature's gelatinous head. "Hey, bubby," he slurred, his speech still compromised. The simple act of touch brought a spark of life to Plankton's eye. "You're good boyth," he said, his voice a mix of affection and pain. Spot's response was a happy wiggle. Karen couldn't help but smile at the sight, Plankton's love for their little amoeba was unwavering. She took a seat beside him, her hand resting gently on his shoulder. "Just rest," she said, her voice a soft command. Plankton nodded, his eyes closing again. Spot continued to shower him with affection, his slimy kisses landing on Plankton. Karen watched them for a moment, her heart swelling with warmth. Then she stood up, knowing there was still more to do to ensure Plankton's recovery went smoothly. In the kitchen, she put together a soft meal for him, something that wouldn't irritate his sensitive mouth. She chopped up some fruit into a small bowl and warmed up a cup of soup. The smells of chicken broth and sweet berries filled the air, a comforting aroma that she hoped would ease his pain. When she returned to the living room, Plankton was asleep, Spot curled up with him. She set the food down on the table, the spoon clinking gently against the porcelain bowl. She took a moment to appreciate the peaceful scene before her, the two of them nestled together, the TV playing a low murmur of background noise. Karen decided to let him sleep for a bit longer. Gently, she lifted Spot off Plankton's lap and placed him on the floor. The amoeba pup quickly scuttled back by the couch, but still on the floor. Karen then turned off the TV, not wanting the noise to disturb Plankton's rest. Just as she was about to leave the room to let him sleep, the doorbell rang. It was Mr. Krabs, his beady eyes looking concerned. She opened the door, whispering, "Shh, he's asleep." Mr. Krabs nodded, his usual gruffness replaced with a rare display of compassion. He held a bag of ice. "Thought he might need these," he said, handing them to her. Karen took the bag gratefully. "Thank you," she whispered. "He's in the living room."
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