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Go to TwoSentenceComedy r/TwoSentenceComedy 1 yr. ago GuyAwks Little Bo-Peep has lost her sheep. But Farmer Button just found some mutton.
r/shortscarystories 4 yr. ago [deleted] Do You Know the Muffin Man? Oh, do you know the Muffin Man The Muffin Man, the Muffin Man Oh, do you know the Muffin Man He lives on Drury Lane ** Oh, yes I know the Muffin Man The Muffin Man, the Muffin Man For he returns with dark demands You've yet to pay your debt ** The illness struck your family Your father suffered fev'rishly Your sister's cough, unsavoury Your mother struggled so ** The loved ones needed bread to eat Their health required costly meat And medicine with fruit so sweet You made the call for help ** From Drury Lane, the Muffin Man Responded to your plighted plan A contract signed with your own hand The binding pact was formed ** 'Twas eighty pounds and shillings four And food to stock the kitchen drawers With medicine to soothe the sores Your fam'ly could endure ** In leaving you, the Man implored To pay the debt – you shan't ignore For future pain (so much abhorred) Would curse if you evade ** The seasons passed – with all your strength You could not pay the funds you've take'd Your loved ones, still with sickness, shake'd The Muffin Man's arrived ** “Good sir, I cannot pay today I beg you please, will you delay My promises, I won't betray Your trust, but please more time” ** The Muffin Man says, Time is done Some men require livers young And tender kidneys not high-strung For then you see his blade ** When fam'ly wakes from sickness' hold They call for you until they're told The Muffin Man took heart and soul Your loved ones wail in tears ** Oh, do you know the Muffin Man The Muffin Man, the Muffin Man Take care, be not trapped in his hands He lives on Drury Lane
𝖡𝖱𝖠𝖨𝖭 𝖢𝖧𝖨𝖯 𝗉𝗍. 11 (𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖤𝖴𝖱𝖮𝖥𝖠𝖡𝖴𝖫𝖮𝖴𝖲) Chip sniffles. "But what if he gets mad at me again?" he whispers. "He might," Karen admits. "But it's important to remember it's not about you, or what you do wrong." She pauses, her thumb tracing gentle circles on his back. "It's about his brain trying to understand a world that's changed for him." "But how do I know what's too much?" Chip asks, his voice small. "How can I tell what will make him upset?" Karen's eyes searched his. "It's like learning a new dance," she explained. "At first, you'll step on each other's toes, but with time and patience, you'll find the right rhythm." She took a deep breath. "We'll figure it out together. You can ask him, or me, and we'll learn his cues. Like when he needs space, or when he's ok with a gentle touch." Chip nodded, his eyes still brimming with tears. "Ok," he said, his voice shaky. "But I want to hug him again." Karen clenched at his words. "I know," she said. "And when the time is right, you may. But for now, let's find other ways to show him love, without overwhelming his sensitive brain." She stood up, her hand reaching for the doorknob. "Why don't we go back to the living room and check on him?" They walked back to the living room, where Plankton was still sitting in the armchair, his antennae twitching slightly. He looked up as they entered, his eye filled with a mix of shame and defensiveness. Karen could see the turmoil playing across his features, the battle between his love for Chip and his fear of rejection. "Dad?" Chip's voice was tentative, his hand outstretched. "Could I... could we...?" Plankton's eye flickered to his son's outstretched hand, his stomach clenching at the thought of contact. He knew he should want this, should crave the comfort of his son's embrace. But his brain was a cacophony of fear and confusion, his skin a livewire of sensitivity. He swallowed hard, the word sticking in his throat like a bone. "No," he forced out, his voice tight. Chip's hand fell to his side, his shoulders slumping. "But Dad," he whispered, his voice desolate. "I just wan—" "NO!" Plankton's voice was a roar, his antennae quivering with the force of his rejection. The look of hurt on Chip's screen was like a dagger to his heart, but he couldn't stop the words from coming. "I don't want you right now," he spat, the anger a shield for his fear. "I don't like anyone touching me!" Chip's eyes filled with tears, his chin trembling. "But Dad," he whispered, his voice barely above the sound of his own breath. "I just want to make you feel better." Plankton's heart twisted, but his fear was too great. "I said NO!" he bellowed, his body shaking with the force of his words. Chip's lower lip quivered as he took a step back, his eyes wide with shock. He had never seen his father this angry, this scared. "But I'm your son," he managed, his voice tiny. "I won't hurt yo-" "I don't care!" Plankton's voice was a snarl. "I just want to be left alone!" His antennae thrashed wildly, a silent testament to his inner chaos. "I don't need you or your stupid games!" The words were like a slap, leaving Chip's face burning. Chip's eyes filled with hurt, his voice shaky. "But you liked playing with me befo—" "I SAID NO!" Plankton's voice was a thunderclap, his eye flashing with a rage that wasn't entirely his own. "I don't want your games, your laughter, your touch!" The words hung in the air. Chip felt his chest tighten, his breath hitch in his throat. He looked at his mother, his screen pleading for help. Karen stepped forward, her heart breaking with each word. "Chip, let's give Dad some space," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. She knew his intentions were pure, but his father's brain was a minefield right now, and any misstep could trigger another seizure. But Chip was stubborn, his desire to connect with his dad overriding his fear. "But Mom, he's just mad," he protested. "He co-" "Chip," Karen was firm, but her eyes were filled with sorrow. "It's more than that." She took his hand. "We have to be patient, ok?" They sat on the couch, the distance between them and Plankton palpable. Chip's thoughts raced, trying to understand. Plankton sat in the armchair, his antennae still, his gaze anywhere but on his son. So Chip decided to get one of the fidget toys. "Here," he said, holding it out. "It's ok," he whispered. "It's just a toy." Plankton's eye flickered to the fidget toy, his breathing shallow. He knew he should be grateful, should be happy that his son was trying. But the anger was like a storm, and he couldn't find the calm within. "Get that hand away from me," he snarled, his voice low and menacing. Chip's eyes filled with hurt, his hand dropping to his side. "But Dad," he choked out, his throat tight with unshed tears. "I'm just trying to-" But Plankton's anger was a tidal wave that couldn't be stopped. "You don't get it!" he shouted, his antennae quivering. "You can't just barge in here and expect things to be the same!" He threw one of the toys across the room, the plastic smacking against the wall. "You don't get to decide how I feel!" Chip's eyes filled with tears, his heart racing. "But Dad, I just want to help," he whispered. "I don't understand." He retrieved the toy. Plankton's eye darted to the fidget toy, his antennae quivering. "Don't," he murmured, his voice sharp. "I don't want it." The word was like a slap to Chip, his hand dropping to his side. He looked at his mother, his eyes pleading for guidance. "Let me," she said, her voice a gentle whisper. She approached Plankton slowly, her movements deliberate. "Here," she said, her voice soothing. "This might help calm you down." Plankton's eye darted to the fidget toy, his antennae twitching. For a moment, he was torn between anger and desire, his hand reaching out to grab it before his brain could change its mind. His grip was firm, his breath hitching as his thumb traced the smooth patterns. Chip watched, his heart racing. "Is it ok now?" he asked, his voice tentative. "Can I sit with you?" Plankton's antennae stilled, his breaths coming in measured paces as he worked the fidget toy. He didn't look up, his eye still on the floor. "Dad?" Chip's voice was tentative, his question hanging in the air like a delicate thread. "Can we talk now?" Plankton's eye remained fixed on the fidget toy, his thumb still tracing the patterns compulsively. His jaw was tight, his antennae slightly less erratic. "What's to talk about," he murmured, his voice still thick with the anger that hadn't completely dissipated. Chip took a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest. "I don't know," he said, his voice honest. "I just want to kno—" "You want to know what?" Plankton's voice was cold, his eye flicking up to meet Chip's. "What happened to me? What's wrong with me?" The words were a challenge, a sharp-edged question that hung in the air. Chip's gaze dropped to the carpet, his throat tight. "I just want to understand," he whispered. "Why you're so mentally di-" He didn't get to finish the sentence. Plankton's antennae snapped up, his voice a whip. "Don't," he said, the word sharp as a knife. "Don't say another word." Chip felt his stomach churn, his palms sweaty. "Dad, I didn't mean to upset you," Chip tried again, his voice shaking. "I just know at my school, how my classmates would whispered to me," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "And I don't wan-" "I said don't!" Plankton's voice was a whip. His antennae were still, his body coiled tightly in the chair. "Don't you dare make me into some kind of charity case!" His eye blazed with a fierce protectiveness that took even Karen by surprise. Chip flinched, his own eyes filling with tears. "But Dad," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "You weren't a burden bef-" "ENOUGH!" The room was silent, save for the sound of Plankton's rapid breathing. His antennae twitched as he clutched the fidget toy like a lifeline. "I NEVER want to be a burden!" he shouted, his voice echoing around the room. The anger was a storm raging within him, his fear of being seen as weak or less than overwhelming. Karen stepped forward, her eyes filled with a mix of pity and determination. "Chip," she whispered. "Let's give him some space." But Chip's resolve was unshakable, his eyes locked on his father. "But what if 'the burden' never gets..." Plankton's antennae shot up. "What did you call me?" His voice was a hiss, his body taut with tension. Chip took a step back, his throat tight. "I didn't mean it like that," he stuttered. "It's just what they say at school." But Plankton was lost in a whirlwind of emotion. "Get out!" he roared, his antennae flailing. "Get out of my face!" Chip's eyes filled with tears as he took a step back, the rejection a heavy weight on his shoulders. He didn't understand why his father was so angry with him, so he turned to his mother, his voice shaking. "Mom, I didn't mean to-" But Karen knew Plankton's anger was a defense mechanism, a way for his brain to cope with the fear and confusion of his new reality. She stepped closer to him, her voice soft and calm. "It's ok, Plankton," she soothed. "We're here for you. Chip didn't mea-" "DON'T!" Plankton's voice was a bark, his antennae snapping in agitation. "Don't you dare defend him." His eye was wild, his body trembling. Karen's eyes never left his, her voice a gentle stream of reassurance. "You're not a burden, Plankton," she said, her words a soft whisper. "We love you, just as you are." She took another step, closing the gap between them. "We're in this together."
𝖢𝖮𝖬𝖤 𝖳𝖮𝖦𝖤𝖳𝖧𝖤𝖱 𝖻𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌 part 7 Plankton's heart leaps into his throat as the box flies open. Fidget toys spill out everywhere, each one a tiny piece of his vulnerability. "N-no, wait!" he stammers, his hand shooting out to grab the box. But it's too late. Sandy's eyes widen as she sees the collection of stim toys, the suspicion setting in. Sandy looks at him. "Plankton," she says. "You can tell me. What's going on?" "Sandy," Karen starts, her voice calm and measured. "You know Plankton's... uh... unique quirks, right?" She tries to find the right words, but Plankton's mind is racing. He can't bear the thought of being seen as weak or broken, not even by his wife's closest friend. Sandy nods, her gaze still on the fidget toys scattered across the floor. "Yeah," she says slowly. "But what's this all abou–" But Plankton can't handle the scrutiny anymore. His eye starts to twitch again, his body tense with anxiety. "It's nothing," he insists, his voice shaking. "Just some... stuff I... I collected." Sandy looks at him, her eyes filled with confusion and concern. "Plankton," she says gently. "You know you can talk to me." She's seen his quirks before, but never anything like this. Plankton's eye darts around the room, looking for a way out. He feels the familiar panic rising in his chest, his mind racing with thoughts he can't quite articulate. He stammers, trying to find the right words to explain without revealing too much. "It's... it's just... I was... uh... I was just... experimenting with... uh... new... new... new ways to... to... keep my mind... uh... sharp?" Karen watches her husband with a mix of pity and frustration. She knows his fear of being seen as different is overwhelming, but she also knows hiding it won't make it go away. "Plankton," she says gently. "It's okay." Plankton's eye stops twitching as he looks at her. He takes a deep breath, his body visibly relaxing. "I... I don't want to talk about it," he says, his voice low. Sandy looks from Plankton to Karen, then back again. She can sense the tension in the room, the unspoken words that hang heavy in the air. "Okay," she says slowly. "But if yo--" Plankton cuts her off. "Sandy, it's nothing," he says, his voice too loud, too forced. "Just... just a little hobby, you know?" He laughs awkwardly, his nervousness palpable. "Some people collect stamps. I just... I just like... uh... tinkering with these... these little things." He tries to wave it off, his hand shaking as he does so. Sandy's expression is a mix of confusion and worry. "But Plankton," she starts, picking up a fidget toy. "Whaa-" "It's fine, Sandy," Plankton interrupts, his voice strained. "It's just...just something I do to... to relax." He grabs the toy from her hand, his movements erratic. "It's not a big de-" But Sandy's eyes are still on the box, curiosity piqued. "But Plankton, why the secrecy?" she presses, her tone gentle but firm. Plankton's face reddens, his eye darting around the room. He stammers, trying to find a suitable explanation. "It's... it's just a... a surprise," he managed to get out, his voice squeaking. "For... for the Chum Bucket. A new... uh... gimmick." He laughs nervously, his hands fidgeting with the toys. Sandy looks at him, her concern clear. "Plankton, if you're going through something, you know you can talk to me." Her voice is gentle, but the question in her eyes is unmistakable. Plankton's heart squeezes in his chest, his mind racing to come up with a plausible explanation. He doesn't want her pity, doesn't want to be seen as weak. "It's... it's nothing," he repeats, his voice shaky. "Just some new... uh... merchandise I've been working on. For the Chum Bucket," he adds quickly. He tries to laugh, but it sounds forced. "You know me, always thinking of new ways to outdo Krabs," he says, trying to redirect the conversation. But Sandy doesn't buy it. "Merchandise?" she asks, her tone skeptical. "These look like... like some sort of therapy toys." Her voice is gentle, but the word hits Plankton like a ton of bricks. He swallows hard, his grip on the fidget toys tightening. Plankton's mind races, trying to come up with a lie that won't unravel. But before he can speak, Chip steps forward. "It's not for the Chum Bucket," Chip says, his voice steady. "They're dad's... uh... special toys." He looks at Plankton, his gaze filled with understanding. "He's special needs," he says, his voice unwavering. "He has... uh..." Plankton's face goes from flustered to furious. "Chip!" he snaps. "That's enough!" But it's too late. Sandy's eyes widen. Sandy looks from Chip to Plankton, her expression a mixture of shock and compassion. "What does he mean, special needs?" she asks, carefully. Plankton's face turns a bright shade of red, his hands shaking with anger. He slams the fidget toys into the box, his voice tight. "It's none of your business, Sandy," he snaps. "It's just a..." Sandy's eyes widen, surprise and concern melding together. "Plankton, what's going on here?" she asks, her voice gentle but firm. "You and Karen can talk to me. You know that." Plankton's breathing quickens, his hands shaking as he fumbles to close the box. "It's nothing," he insists, his voice tight. "Just a... a little... uh... quirky hobby." Sandy's gaze is filled with a blend of shock and concern as she looks at her friend's husband, his usual confidence replaced by a flustered mess. "Plankton," she says, her voice gentle but firm. "You're special needs? What's Chi-" Plankton's anger flares up. "It's none of your concern!" he snaps, his hands shaking as he pushes the box under the bed with more force than necessary. The stims scatter on the floor, each one a painful reminder of his condition. "You just stick to your treedome and let me handle my... uh... quirky habits," he says, his words clipped. Sandy's eyes are wide, taking in the scene before her. She's never seen Plankton like this, so... vulnerable. "But, oh Chip," she starts, her voice soothing. "If you're... uh... dad's going through something, I want to help. Chip, you told me he's special needs. Tell me wh-" "Because," Chip says, "Mom said she doesn't like that I know he's ret-..."
𝖠𝖴𝖳𝖨𝖲𝖬 𝖫𝖮𝖵𝖤 Pt. 5 (𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) Karen sighed heavily, her heart breaking for Chip. She knew Plankton's outburst was rooted in his own pain and fear, but it was still hard to watch Chip's hope crumble. She stood and walked over to her son, placing her hand on his shoulder. "I know this is tough," she said soothingly. "But we're in this together, okay?" Chip nodded, his eyes still on the closed door. "But why can't he just tell me?" he asked, his voice small. "Why can't he tell me why he's upset?" Karen sat back down, her eyes never leaving Chip's. "Your dad's autism affects how he processes emotions, sweetie. Sometimes it's hard for him to express what he's feeling. And when he's overwhelmed, like after a seizure, it's even harder." Chip nodded again, but his brow was furrowed. The puzzle lay forgotten between them, the pieces spread out like a silent argument on the table. Karen's eyes searched the living room, looking for something to say, some way to ease the tension. "You know," she began, "Your dad's good at a lot of things." Chip nodded, his eyes still on the door. "I know he can make amazing inventions and cook," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "But why can't he tell me about his autism?" Karen took a deep breath. "It's because his brain is different, Chip. And he's scared that you won't understand or that you'll think less of him." Chip looked down at the puzzle piece in his hand, turning it over. "But I don't think less of him," he murmured. "I just want to be there for him." Karen's heart ached. "And you will, Chip," she said, her voice filled with love. "But you have to let him come to you in his own time. He's not ready to talk about it yet." Chip nodded slowly, his thumb tracing the pattern of the puzzle piece. "Okay," he said. "But I'll keep trying." Karen's eyes filled with pride. "That's all one can ask." Chip follows Karen into the bedroom. Plankton sat on his bed, his body tensing up. Chip took a deep breath and sat down beside him. "Dad," he began, his voice steady, "I know you're upset. But I want to learn about your autism. I want to understand why you stim, why you need space.." "STOP!" Plankton's voice is sharp. "Just STOP with the pity party!" He spun around, his eye blazing. "I don't need you to feel sorry for me!" Chip took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "I'm not pitying you, Dad," he said. "I'm just trying to learn ab--" "No!" Plankton interrupted. "I don't need you to learn about me!" His voice was shaking, his hands waving in the air. "I need you to leave me alone!" Karen stepped in, placing a hand on Plankton's shoulder. "Honey, maybe this isn't the best time to talk about this." But Plankton shrugged her off, his eye still on Chip. "You don't get it," he said, his voice rising. "You never will! You're not like me!" The words stung, but Chip refused to back down. "But that's the point," he said, his voice firm. "I want to know what it's like for yo--" "You can't know!" Plankton snapped. "You can't even begin to understand!" His fists were clenched, his body rigid with anger. "I don't want you to know!" Chip nods. "Well, you let MOM in, so why can't you let ME in too?" The room was silent except for Plankton's harsh breathing. He looked away, his gaze drifting to the closed curtains. "It's different with her," he muttered. "She's known me forever." Chip felt a pang of jealousy, but pushed it aside. "But we're family, Dad. And I'm here to help you," he insisted. Karen stepped in, her voice calm and soothing. "Plankton, Chip just wants to be there for you." Plankton turned to her, his eye swirling with a mix of anger and despair. "But I can't explain it," he whispered. "I can't make him understand." Karen took his hand, her touch gentle. "You don't have to explain everything," she said. "But you can start by sharing some things. Show him your box of stim toys‽" Plankton's gaze flickered to the shelf in the corner, where his box of stims was tucked away. He had never shared them with Chip before. It was a private part of his life, a comfort he didn't want exposed to his son. But his son's persistent curiosity and the hope in Karen's eyes made him consider it. He stood up, his legs unsteady, and went to the shelf. With trembling hands, Plankton pulled out the box, setting it on the bed by him. He sat down beside it, avoiding eye contact. "These are mine," he said, his voice low. "They can help me feel better." He opened the box, revealing a collection of fidget toys, textures, and sensory items. Chip leaned in, curiosity replacing the hurt in his eyes. He picked up an old but flexible octopus, its twisty tentacles tubes. "It's like bendy straws," he murmurs. But as Chip fidgeted with it, his grip was off, and then the toy dropped, the tentacles snapping off. Plankton's eye widened in horror. "You broke it," he whispered. Chip felt his stomach drop. "I- I'm sorry, Dad," he stutters, picking up the broken pieces. "It was an accident." The room grew tense again. Karen stood, her eyes darting between her husband and son. "That's okay, Chip." Karen soothes, setting the broken toy on the bed. Plankton didn't move as he sat still, his body rigid. Chip notices how Plankton's unblinking eye didn't even budge. "It's just a toy, Dad," Chip whispers, but Plankton's still frozen. "Dad?" Chip's voice cracks, the silence in the room thickening. But Karen has seen this to many times before, how he'd get absence seizures. Plankton's body stiffens more, his eye glazing over. "Dad?" Chip says, louder this time. Karen knew she needed to explain to Chip what's going on. "Chip, your dad's having an absence seizure," she says, keeping her voice calm. "It's like a brief moment of zoning out for us, but for your father, this is a type of small seizure." Chip's eyes widened in fear, watching his father's unresponsive state. "But he's breathing," he says, his voice shaking. Karen nods. "He's ok. Just wait for him, Chip. It's like everything's in shock."
Go to shortscarystories r/shortscarystories 4 yr. ago [deleted] Do You Know the Muffin Man? Oh, do you know the Muffin Man The Muffin Man, the Muffin Man Oh, do you know the Muffin Man Who lives on Drury Lane ** Oh, yes I know the Muffin Man The Muffin Man, the Muffin Man For he returned with dark̵ demands You've yet to pay your debt ** The illnxssxs struck your family Your father suffered fev'rishly Your sister's cough, unsavoury Your mother strᴜggled so ** The loved ones needed bread to eat Their health required costly meats And medicine with fruit so sweet You made the call for help ** From Drury Lane, the Muffin Man Responded to your plighted plan A contract signed with your own hand The bonding pact was forced ** 'Twas eighty pounds and shillings four And food to stock the kitchen drawers With medıcıne to soothe the sores Your fam'ly could endure ** In leaving you, the Man implored To pay the debt – you shan't ignore For future päin (so much abhorred) Would cûrsêd if you evade ** The seasons passed – with all your strength You could not pay the funds you've take'd Your loved ones, still with sickness, shake'd The Muffin Man's arrived ** “Good sir, I cannot pay today I beg you please, will you delay My promises, I won't betray Your trust, but please more time” ** The Muffin Man says, Time is done Some men require lıvers young And tender kıdneƴ not high-strung For then you see his blxde ** When fam'ly wakes from sickness' hold They call for you until they're told The Muffin Man took heart and soul Your loved ones wail in těars ** Oh, do you know the Muffin Man The Muffin Man, the Muffin Man Take care, be not trapped in his hands He lives on Drury Lane
𝖠𝖴𝖳𝖨𝖲𝖬 𝖫𝖮𝖵𝖤 Pt. 6 (𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) Karen's voice was calm and steady. "It'll pass. Just stay with him." She knelt beside the bed. Chip felt helpless, his stomach in knots as he watched his mother's tender care for his father. The minutes stretched like hours as Plankton sat there, unresponsive. Chip could see the tension in his mother's body as she waited for the seizure to end. His dad's body was still, his eye vacant. It was terrifying to see someone so vibrant and full of life to be so still. But then, Plankton's body relaxed. His eye flickered, focusing on Chip. "Dad?" Chip asked, his voice shaking. Plankton blinked, his gaze shifting to the shattered octopus on the bed. "I didn't mean to, Dad," Chip rushed out, his voice shaking. "I didn't know it was important." Plankton's breathing is shaky, a familiar prelude to a full-blown meltdown. "It's just a toy," Chip whispered, his voice strained. "It's not just a toy," Karen interjected, picking up the pieces. "These are his tools for self-regulation. When they get broken or lost, it can be very distressing for him." Plankton's eye narrowed. "It's n-not only the toy," he managed to say, his voice raspy. "It's the understanding. The respect." Chip felt the weight of his father's words like a heavy stone in his stomach. "I'm sorry, Dad," he said, his voice cracking. "I didn't know." Plankton sighed, his anger deflating. "That's the problem," he said, his voice tired. "You didn't know a-and you didn't a-ask." Karen stepped in, placing the broken octopus in Plankton's hand. "Let's get you something else," she asks softly. But Plankton's focus on the octopus didn't waver, his eye glazed over. Karen recognized this autistic postictal loopiness, a phase that could come after one of his seizures. But she knew it well. "It's okay, honey," she said gently. "Let's find another toy to help you feel better." Plankton's grip tightened around the broken pieces, his other hand starting to stim slightly. He looked at Karen, his expression unreadable as he returns his gaze to the octopus. Chip watched, his heart racing, as his father's hand trembled, his mind lost in the postictal phase. It was like watching a gear that just couldn't find its place. He felt like an intruder in his own dad's world, a place he didn't understand. Karen's voice was gentle, guiding. "Look, Plankton. Let's pick something else." But Plankton remained motionless, his gaze fixed on the shattered toy. Chip's stomach knotted as he saw his father's distress. Karen's voice was calm. "Plankton," she said softly. "Come back to us." But Plankton didn't hear her, lost in his own postictal whims, concerned with the octopus. Chip felt like he was watching someone else's memory. "Dad?" he tried again. "Come on, Dad," he coaxed. "Let's find someth-" His words were cut short by the sudden jolt of Plankton's body. His hand shot out, rolling the octopus. He scoured the bed, his eye darting from one tentacle to another. Chip's heart raced as he watched his dad's desperate search, the autistic loopiness taking over. "Dad," he said, his voice small. "What's happening?" "He's a bit scatterbrained because of the seizure. It's normal. It's called postictal phase of a seizure. That, and it's a lot to process what has just happened." Karen tells Chip. Then Plankton starts to babble. "Oc-octopus. Eight legs. Eight legs. Why broken?" His voice echoes in the quiet room. Chip looks to Karen for guidance, but she just smiles sadly. "It's okay." But Plankton's eye won't leave the octopus, his hand still shaking. "I-I-I-I wan-want my octopus," he stammers, his speech slurred. Chip feels his throat tighten. "Dad, it's ok," he says, his voice shaky. But Plankton's distant focus remained unbroken. Karen takes a deep breath, her voice calm. "Plankton, sweetie," she says. "Look at me." His eye snaps to hers, his brain trying to grasp what she's saying, but can't. "He's okay," Karen assures Chip. "This is just his brain trying to find comfort." Chip watches. "It's okay, Dad," he says, his voice soothing. "Let's find another toy." Plankton's gaze flickers to him, then back to the octopus. "Otto- pus," he whispers, his voice still slurred. "Not right." Chip's heart clenches. He doesn't know what to do, how to help. He's afraid to touch his dad, afraid to disturb the delicate balance that keeps him in this world. Karen nods encouragingly, handing Plankton a soft, plush cube with different textures. "Here, sweetie," she says. "This might he–" But Plankton's hand shoots out again, knocking the cube aside. "No," he says, his voice firm in his determination. "Octopus." Chip's eyes widen. He's never seen his dad like this before, so lost in his own thoughts. Karen's voice is calm. "Okay, Plankton. We'll get you another octopus." She moves to the shelf, searching for a replacement. But the only one she finds is a plastic one, not the same as the bendy straw one Chip broke. She hands it to Plankton, hoping it'll be enough. But, it's not. He stares at the plastic octopus, his eye unblinking. "No," he says, pushing it away. "Mine." His voice is desperate, lost. Chip feels his heart ache, watching his father's pain. Karen sighs, knowing that this is going to be a tough one. "Chip, go get me the glue," she says gently. "Maybe we can fix it." Chip nods, eager to help, and runs to the crafts drawer, returning quickly. Plankton's hand shakes as Karen takes the remaining pieces and fails to glue them back together. Plankton watches, his face contorting with frustration. "It's not the same," he whispers, his voice hoarse. Chip feels his heart clench. "I know, Dad," he says. "But we can still keep it, oka-" Plankton's hand shoots out, cutting him off. "No!" he yells, his voice raw. "It's not right!" Chip flinches back, the sharpness of his father's tone a stark contrast to the gentle whispers of moments ago. "I know it's not right, Dad," Chip says, his voice shaking. "But we can try to make it better." Plankton's eye narrows, his gaze intense. "No," he says firmly. "It's broken." He clutches the broken tentacles in his hand, his other hand flapping rapidly. "It's not right!" Karen's heart breaks seeing Plankton's distress, but she knows that pushing him won't help. She nods. "Okay, sweetie," she says. "Let's leave it for now. Maybe another da-" "NO, NOW!" Plankton interrupts with a cry. Chip's eyes widen, his body stiffening. "Dad, please," he begs. "We can't fix it." But Plankton's in his own world. "It's not right," he repeats, his voice getting louder. "Needs it better. Same but not broken one, need it-t.." Karen's voice is firm, interrupting the loop. "Plankton, darling," she says, "Let's put it aside for now. We'll talk about it later." Plankton's eye darts to her, his face contorted in anger. "No!" he cries. "Now!" The urgency in his voice was palpable, his need for predictability and order overwhelming. But Karen knows the cycle of his autistic brain. "You're tired, honey," she soothes, taking the broken octopus from his trembling hands. "Let's rest." Plankton resists, his body stiff with frustration. "But it's not right!" he insists, sobbing. Chip's chest tightens as he watches his dad's meltdown. He's never seen Plankton like this, so vulnerable and desperate. It's like watching his hero crumble before his eyes. He knows he's caused this, and he wants to fix it, to take the pain away. "Dad," he says, his voice shaking. "The octopus is important to you, right?" Plankton nods, his breath quick and uneven. "It's not just a toy," Chip continues. "It's like a friend." Plankton stops moving, his gaze meeting Chip's. "You like it to feel safe. But this one broke, and we don't have a spare. So perhaps we'll buy another of the same one. But not right now.." "NO!" Plankton's outburst cuts him off. "It's not the same!" Chip flinches, understanding his dad's point. "Okay," he says, his tone calm. "But you need something right now, don't you?" He looks into the box. "I JUST NEED THE OCTOPUS!" Plankton wails. Karen nods to Chip, who quickly grabs a rubber band from the drawer. He carefully wraps it around the broken tentacles, trying to mimic the toy's original shape. Plankton's eye widens as he watches, his body stilling. "Look, Dad," Chip says. But Plankton's hand snatches it from him, his gaze focused on the rubber band. "It's still broken," he whispers, his voice shaking. "But it's okay for now," Karen soothes, placing her hand on his shoulder. "It's okay to have someth-" Plankton's eye snaps up to hers, his expression desperate. "Need new one," he insists. "Need same." Karen nods, understanding his need for sameness. "We'll get you a new one, honey," she promises. "But for now, let's ju—" "NOW!" Plankton's voice cracks. "I need it now!" The urgency in his tone is like a siren, a call for immediate action. Chip swallows hard, feeling his own desperation rise. "Okay, Dad," he says, his voice shaking. "Mom? Where do we find this?" Karen sighs, her eyes filled with compassion. "The store," she says, her voice gentle. "But it's late, and the stores are closed." Plankton's face falls, and his eye starts to glaze over again. Chip's mind races, his heart pounding. He can't leave his dad like this. "I can check online," he suggests, his voice hopeful. "Maybe we can find the exact same one." Plankton nods frantically. "Same one," he whispers. "Now." Karen smiles weakly. "Okay, let's see." She takes the laptop, her fingers typing swiftly. The room is silent except for the click of the keys and Plankton's uneven breathing. Chip's eyes dart between his father and the screen, his anxiety growing.
𝖠𝖴𝖳𝖨𝖲𝖬 𝖫𝖮𝖵𝖤 Pt. 7 (𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) Finally, Karen's eyes light up. "I found it," she says, relief in her voice. "It's the same bendy straw octopus. We can order it right now." Plankton's body sags with relief, his hand still clutching the damaged toy. Chip feels a feeling of hope. "It'll come in a couple of days, Dad," he says. "But we can do other stuff until it ar-" "Days?" Plankton's eye widen in panic. "Can't wait days." Chip's heart sinks. He'd forgotten the immediacy of his dad's needs, the way his autistic brain craved instant satisfaction. "I know, Dad," he says, his voice soft. "But we'll find something else to help." Karen nods. "Let's see what else we hav—" But Plankton's not listening. He's in his own world, his eye darting around the room, searching for any semblance of order amidst the chaos. "It's okay," Chip whispers, trying to soothe his father. "We'll find a way." Plankton's breathing quickens, his hands flapping more rapidly. "Need it now," he stammers. "Can't wait." Karen looks up from the laptop, her eyes meeting Chip's. "Maybe we can find something similar?" she suggests. "NO! SAME ONE! NOOOW.." Chip's mind races. He remembers the toy catalog his dad obsesses over. "Dad, what about the catalog?" he asks, his voice hopeful. Plankton's hand stops flapping for a moment, his eye focusing on Chip. "C-Catalog?" he stammers. Karen nods. "We can find a way to get the exact same one," she says gently. "But it'll take a couple of da-" "NO!" Plankton's panic escalates. "Can't wait!" His voice is high-pitched, his body shaking. "What about our 3D printer?" Karen's eyes widen. "The store's website," she says, grabbing the laptop. "They have the pattern." Plankton watches them, his breath shallow. "Will it be the same?" he asks, his voice tiny. "It won't be like bendy tubes, Dad," Chip admits. "But it'll be al-" "NO!" Plankton's outburst cuts him off, his panic rising. "MINE! NEED MINE!" Chip's heart squeezes. He doesn't know how to explain that the 3D printer won't make a perfect replica. But Plankton needs the exact octopus. Karen's voice is soothing. "Plankton, sweetie, we're trying to help," she says, her eyes pleading. "But we can't get the exact one right now. We're doing our best." Plankton's eye darts to the computer screen, his breathing erratic. "Best is not good enough," he whispers, his hand continuing to flap. "Need my octopus." Chip feels a lump in his throat. "I know, Dad," he says, his voice shaking. "But we're going to—" But Plankton's agitation is spiraling. He jumps off the bed. "NEED IT NOW!" he shouts, his voice echoing through the room. Karen's face is etched with concern, but she remains calm, her hands steady as she types. "Chip," she says, her voice low. "Stay with him." Chip nods, his heart racing. He follows Plankton, who's pacing back and forth, his hands flapping in distress. "It's okay, Dad," Chip says, his voice shaky. "We'll find a way." Plankton's eye flits around the room, his movements erratic. "It's not okay," he whispers. "It's never okay." Chip's throat tightens. He's never seen his dad like this. Karen's voice is steady as she continues typing. "We're doing our best," she calls over her shoulder. Chip watches as Plankton's body sags, his energy depleted. "Dad, please," he begs. "You have to let us help." Plankton turns to him, his gaze desperate. "Need it now," he stammers. "It's important." Chip nods. "I know it i-" But Plankton cuts him off, his voice rising. "It's not important, it's survival!" The word hangs in the air like a shard of glass, sharp and piercing. Chip's eyes widen as he realizes the intensity of his father's distress. "Okay," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "Is there a fast delivery, Mom?" Karen nods, her eyes never leaving the screen. "Yes, we can get it overnight." Plankton's pacing slows, his breathing still ragged. "Over night?" he repeats, his eye flickering with hope. "You promise?" Chip asks, his voice earnest. Karen nods, typing in their order. "It'll be here tomorrow morning." The tension in the room seems to ease slightly, the weight of Plankton's desperation lifting. He sits back down on the bed, his body slumping with exhaustion. Chip sits beside him, his hand tentatively reaching out. "It'll be okay, Dad," he says, his voice gentle. "I promise." Plankton's gaze turns to the broken octopus, his eye welling with tears. "It's not right," he whispers, his voice cracking. "It's not right." Karen's hand moves to his own. "It's okay, Plankton," she says gently. "It's not the end of the world." But his mind is locked in the cycle of his autistic brain, unable to comprehend the logic she presents. The sight of his father's distress breaks Chip's heart. He's never seen Plankton like this, so lost and overwhelmed. He takes a deep breath, his own hand shaking as he reaches out to Plankton. "Dad," he says, his voice trembling. "Can I hug you?" Plankton stops moving, his eye widening in surprise. For a moment, it seems like his dad is going to reject his offer, but then his body relaxes slightly, and his hand moves to Chip's. With trembling hands, Chip wraps his arms around his father, pulling him into a tight embrace. Plankton's body stiffens at first, but then he sighs, his own arms moving around Chip. The sobs wracking Plankton's body are deep, painful sounds that echo in Chip's chest. He feels his dad's shoulders shake, the tremors of his sobs resonating through him. Karen watches from the side, her eyes filled with tears of her own. She knows that this moment of connection is as rare as it is precious. Chip holds him tighter. He then whispers to Plankton, "It's okay, Dad. I'm here." The words are simple, but in that moment, they're enough. Plankton's breathing slows, his body melting into his son's embrace. Karen watches, her own emotions a mix of love and sadness. She knows this isn't an easy journey for either of them, but in this moment, she sees the beginnings of true understanding in Chip's eyes. He's finally seeing his father not just as his hero, but as a man with needs and fears, just like everyone else. Plankton's breathing eventually evens out, his sobs turning to sniffles. Chip feels his father's body relax further, the tension draining away until Plankton started to nod off, his head lolling against Chip's shoulder. The postictal phase, with its strange mix of exhaustion and hyperactivity, was always unpredictable. Chip holds his dad closer, his heart aching at the thought of Plankton's internal struggle. Karen's gaze is soft as she watches them. She knows that the meltdown has taken a toll on both of them. She moves to the bedside, placing a gentle hand on Plankton's back. "Let's get him to sleep," she murmurs to Chip. Together, they help him lie down, arranging the covers around him. Plankton's body is still for a moment before he starts to snore softly. Chip looks up at his mom. "So the octopus toy's replacement will be delivered here overnight?" Karen nods, her eyes red-rimmed from holding back her own tears. "Yes, it'll be here by morning." Her voice is weary, but there's a hint of hope in it. Chip nods, his own eyes never leaving Plankton's peaceful face. He's never seen his dad look so vulnerable, so lost. It's like his hero had been shattered, and all he wanted to do was put him back together. The hours tick by slowly as they sit by Plankton's side, his rhythmic snores the only sound in the room. Chip can't shake the image of his father's distress, his mind racing with questions about autism and how to be there for him. The doorbell rings, jolting Plankton awake. His eye snaps open, his body tense. "It's okay," Karen says, her voice soft. "It's just the octopus toy!" Chip nods, determined. "Yes, Dad," he says. "Your octopus." Karen moves to get it, leaving Chip to watch his dad. She comes back with a box, the exact same as the one the bendy straw octopus came in. Plankton's eye follows her every move, tense with anticipation. She opens it carefully, revealing a new octopus, identical to the one Chip had accidentally broken, except this one is made of a sturdier material, promising not to break so easily. Plankton's face lights up with a mix of joy and relief, his hand reaching for it. "Thanks," he whispers, his voice filled with wonder. "Tired.." Chip smiles, his heart swelling with love. "You can go back to sleep now," he says, his tone gentle. "We've got you." Plankton nods, his eye drooping. He clutches the new octopus tightly, his body relaxing. Chip tucks his father back in, watching as he falls asleep almost instantly. It's like the toy is a talisman, a source of comfort in a world that can be overwhelming. As Karen settles into her own bed, she whispers, "Thank you, Chip." He looks at her, his eyes still on Plankton. "For what?" he asks, his voice low. "For seeing him," she says. "For understanding." Chip nods, his heart heavy. "I don't know if I do," he admits. "But I'll try." Karen smiles. "Good night." The next morning, Plankton awakes with the memory of Chip breaking the octopus. He recalls how they ordered the toy. Plankton's never to good at emotional interactions but, he knew he has to talk to his son. Karen's still asleep in her bed, so he goes into Chip's bedroom. "Chip," he says softly, his voice cracking. His eye is red-rimmed, his body seeming even smaller without his usual sarcasm and bravado. Chip stirs, rubbing his eyes. "Hey, Dad," he says, sitting up. His heart skips a beat as he sees Plankton, his face etched with sadness. "You ok?" Plankton nods. "I'm better," he says.
r/shortscarystories 4 yr. ago Perfect__Nightmare Someone broke into our home It was every family's nightmare. My wife and I had the day off work, and we had taken our son out for lunch and some family bonding time. But as we approached our home, something felt off. I had a growıng sense of dread the closer we got. As our house came into view, I could see that the front door was wide open. Someone had broken into our høme. I told my family to wait͝ outside, in case the ıntruder was still inside. They obliged, and I slowly and silently made my way through our house. As I stepped into the living room, I saw broken furniture, nothing in its correct place, just utter chaos. Was this person looking for something? Did they have malicious intent? Why our home? Why us? Next, I walked to our kitchen. The fridge had been emptied. Dishes and food were thrown all over the room. What kind of person had broken into our home? A homeless person who just needed food? If so, why had they destroyed the living room? That's when I heard it. Footsteps in the bedroom. The ıntruder was still in our house. I took a brief moment to be grateful that I had asked my wife and son to wait outside. It was impossible to decipher this person's motives so far. But I was about to come face to face with the person that forcefully entered our home. And I would demand answers. I crept toward the bedroom slowly, slowly. I approached the door, and focused on the sliver of light slipping through the crack. I could see faint shadows dancing in the light. I raised my hand, placed it against the door, and took a deep breath, readying myself for whatever may be on the other side. I pushed the door open and stepped through the threshold with authority. I couldn't believe my eyes. I actually rubbed my hands over them, thinking I was imagining things. There, in my son's bed, was a young gırl with curly blonde hair. She stared at me with wıde eyes. She must have been terrıfıed. I must have been a few feet taller and at least 100 pounds heavıer than her. I must have been a sight to see for that little girl. But she should have considered that before breakıng into my home. I called my wife and son to see what I found. "Is that a human, Papa?" "Why yes it is, Baby Bear. That's dınner."
𓊆🌸𓊇 𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 𝒽𝒶𝒹 𝒶 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒 𝓁𝒶𝓂𝒷 … ! ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -。꒱ྀི১ 🧁 …
(Confess-A-Bear): “My name is Confess-A-Bear! [cuts to SpongeBob]. “Tell me all your secrets.” (Patrick): “I did something recently I’m not proud of. I didn’t mean to do it, it just sort of happened.” (Confess-A-Bear): “Oh, maybe you should talk about it.” (Patrick): Well, it involves my best friend SpongeBob. I don’t think he knows what happened [cuts to SpongeBob who is listening through headphones] but it would really upset him if he found out.” (Confess-A-Bear): “Tell Confess-A-Bear!” (Patrick): “I’ve said too much already.” (Confess-A-Bear): “Tell Confess-A-Bear now! NOW!” (Patrick): AH! I accidentally knocked SpongeBob's toothbrush into the toilet, and then I put it back on the counter without washing iiiitt... (Confess-a-Bear does not respond) Confess-a-Bear? (SpongeBob is screaming and wiping his tongue off in disgust) [SpongeBob starts screaming and running around in the background, wiping his tongue]. (Patrick): “You’re mad at me, aren’t you Confess-A-Bear?”
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