Sandy Learnt a Secret Emojis & Text

²

new second power to the second power little 2 squared number 2 mathematics square up square root square squarish

SWEET CWEAM pt. 2

Plankton's gaze 
shifted to the ceiling, 
where shadows danced in 
the harsh fluorescent light. 
He tried to remember, but 
his thoughts were like 
grains of sand slipping 
through his fingers.

"Karen," he 
whispered, his voice 
tiny and lost. "My tweef?"

Her smile never 
wavered, her eyes 
steady on his. "Don't 
worry about your teeth 
now. They're all taken 
care of."

Plankton's mind 
raced, trying to grasp 
the concept of missing 
teeth. He 
swallowed, the 
movement painfully 
sluggish in his throat. 
"Buh... buth how?"

"They used a special kind 
of sleepy medicine," she 
explained, her voice a 
calm lullaby in the stark 
reality of the recovery 
room. "It made sure you 
didn't feel any pain."

Plankton's eye
grew rounder still, 
his curiosity piqued. 
He felt a strange giggle 
bubble up from his chest, 
the absurdity of the 
situation tickling his 
funny bone. "Sleeby 
meds?" he 
repeated, the words 
coming out like a 
slurred song.

The nurse, used to 
seeing patients in various 
states of post-op confusion, 
just smiled. "Yes, the 
sleepy medicine," she 
said, her voice a comforting 
lilt. "It's to keep you calm 
and pain-free."

Plankton's eye
wandered to the IV 
drip next to his bed, 
the clear fluid snaking into 
his arm. "Meee," he 
managed.

The nurse 
followed his gaze and 
explained, "That's just 
some fluids to keep 
you hydrated, Mr. Plankton. 
You've been asleep for a 
little while."

Karen watched as 
his eye grew distant, 
his mind adrift in the 
sea of anesthesia. The 
drool trickled down 
his chin, and she 
tenderly dabbed it away 
with a tissue. "Do you 
remember anything?"

Plankton's gaze 
flickered, and a faint 
smile tugged at his 
numb lips. "I 'member 
flying," he murmured, 
his voice a whisper of a 
dream. "I thaw youw were 
thewe," he said, his eye
half-closed. "Youw wuz 
a buttefly."

Karen's eyes 
sparkled with a mix of 
amusement and concern. 
"I was a butterfly?" she 
repeated, playing along. 
"That's sweet, Plankton."

He nodded, his 
eye glazed with a 
dreamy expression. "Yew 
wuz," he insisted, 
his voice still slurred.

Karen couldn't help but 
laugh, the tension of the 
day finally breaking. "Okay, 
my little butterfly," she 
whispered, her thumb 
brushing his cheek. "Why 
don't we go home?"

The nurse nodded, 
preparing the discharge 
papers. "You can take him 
now," she said, handing 
them to Karen. "Make sure 
he gets plenty of rest and 
stick to soft foods for the 
next few days."

Karen helped 
Plankton to his feet, his 
body protesting the 
sudden movement. He 
swayed like a willow in the 
wind, his arm draped 
heavily over her shoulders. 
Together, they shuffled out 
of the recovery room, 
his feet dragging against 
the floor as if tethered 
to an invisible weight.

The numbness in his 
mouth had spread to 
his cheeks, giving 
his face a lopsided 
smile that made him feel 
like a clown, his mouth 
still frozen in a 
lopsided smile as he chuckles. 

Karen led him out 
of the clinic. Plankton’s eye
closed as he
suddenly tilted onto
her, letting out 
a little snorelike snort.

"Plankton, wake up," 
she giggled, half-supporting 
his weight. 
The fresh air hit 
his face like a slap, 
waking him up just 
enough to realize 
his mouth was still 
as numb as a brick. 
He tried to speak, 
but it was like his 
tongue had forgotten 
how to move.

"Wha...?" he mumbled, 
his eye searching 
for understanding.

The world around 
Plankton was a 
blur of shapes and 
colors.

"Walky," he 
slurred, his legs 
like jelly under him.
Karen guided him to the car, 
his legs moving as if 
through molasses.

Once inside, he 
fidgeted with the 
seatbelt, his fingers 
refusing to cooperate. 
"Let me," she said, 
buckling him in, making 
his eye go wide again.

"Thathks," he 
muttered, “I thee
the twess," he said, 
his voice filled with 
wonder as if 
he had just been born.

Karen chuckled, 
starting the car. The 
engine hummed to life, 
and Plankton's eye 
followed the world as it 
moved past the window, 
his gaze unfocused and 
innocent.

"Lookit the twess," he 
said, his voice filled 
with awe. "They'we aww
bending to shay hewwo."

Karen couldn't help but 
laugh at his slurred 
words. "Yes, they do that 
when it's windy," she 
explained, her voice a 
comforting balm to his 
confused mind.

new sweet cweam plaren 2

favorite(s) SpongeBob shipping

Karendy — the ship between Sandy and Karen
krabbob (spongebob x mr krabs)
Larrick — the ship between Larry the Lobster and Patrick Star
MR KRABS AND MRS PUFF + KRUFF
PatBob(SpongeBobxPatrick)
Plabs — the ship between Mr. Krabs and Sheldon Plankton
Plankaren — the ship between Plankton and Karen
PlankBob — the ship between SpongeBob and Sheldon Plankton
Plankward — the ship between Plankton and Squidward Tentacles
Sandrick — the ship between Patrick and Sandy Cheeks
Spandrick	Sandy Cheeks · Patrick Star
Spandward — the ship between SpongeBob, Sandy Cheeks and Squidward Tentacles
Spandy(SpongeBobxSandy)
Squandy(Squidward vs Sandy)
SquidBob(Squidward vs SpongeBob)
SquidPatBob — the ship between SpongeBob, Squidward Tentacles and Patrick Star

new spongebobcore spongecore krabskin plankbob squidbob krabton plankrab plabs karendy plankward plankaren patbob spandy kruff spongebob squarepants

guy stop fucking saying to fucking this web a fucking app like what the fuck there lot of fucking beef like do you guys have brain cells of a dick shit like get a life if you care about fuck 8 year olds then dont make this a fucking app if you fucking do more little kids will get draked like what the skidi bro get a fucking bro°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

KAREN REACHING AUTISM pt. 1
(Autistic author)

It happened, during another
failed attempt at the krabby
patty formula. Plankton tried
sneaking through the back
when Mr. Krabs saw him.

"You again!" Mr. Krabs roared,
his eyes bulging like a pair
of boiled eggs about to pop.
"You're not getting it, I'll make
sure of that!"

With that, Mr. Krabs swung
a nearby frying pan with
such ferocity that even
SpongeBob flinched. Plankton's
tiny body was no match
for the metallic beast that
was hurtling towards him,
and the next thing he knew,
his world had gone dark.

SpongeBob's eyes widened
as he watched his boss's
arch-nemesis crumble to the
ground, the frying pan clattering
loudly beside him. The usually
boisterous kitchen was
now eerily silent, save for
the distant hiss of the fryers.
Mr. Krabs' chest heaved with
each breath, his claws still
poised in the air from the swing.

"Mr. Krabs!" Sponge Bob squeaked,
his spatula frozen mid-air. "Is he okay?"
But Mr. Krabs' has retreated to his own
office, leaving Sponge Bob with Plankton.

Carefully, Sponge Bob prodded him
with his spatula. No response.
His single, tiny eyelid was
closed.

After a while, Plankton stirred.

His eye fluttered open, but 
the world was a jumbled mess. 
The colors were too bright, the 
noises too loud, the smells too 
overwhelming. The kitchen of 
the Krusty Krab, a place he still
knew like the back of his tiny 
hand, was suddenly a chaotic
maelstrom of sensory input that 
his brain couldn't process. He 
blinked rapidly, trying to make 
sense of it all, but the clanging 
of pots and pans, the sizzling of 
the fryers, and the garish neon 
lights just added to the confusion.

SpongeBob's face appeared 
above him, a mask of worry 
and concern, his porous 
expression more complex than 
anything Plankton had ever seen. 
"Are you okay?" the sponge 
asked, his voice a gentle wave 
lapping against the shore of 
his newfound reality. Plankton 
nods, running back home to the
Chum Bucket.

Plankton's computer wife Karen's
no stranger to him coming back
upset or wanting space. So as
Plankton retreats to his room in
the Chum Bucket, she doesn't
prompt him.

Alone in the bedroom, Plankton 
intensely stared at the wall, 
his thoughts racing like a tornado. 
Everything was different now. The 
once-familiar world had turned 
on him, and he couldn't understand 
why. The lights in the Chum 
Bucket, usually a comfort, now 
blazed like the sun in his face. The 
noises, oh, the noises! They 
were so loud, so overwhelming, 
like a cacophony of a million 
tiny bells ringing in his head. He 
put his hands over his ears, trying 
to block them out, but even the 
softest hum seemed to resonate 
within his skull. Plankton 
wasn't sure how to process these 
new sensations. His brain was 
on overload, and his body felt like 
it didn't belong to him anymore. He 
was aware of every tiny detail in 
his environment, every speck of 
dust on the floor, every vibration 
from the floorboards, and it was 
all too much.

He tried to get up, to find solace 
in his usual routine, but his legs 
failed him. They trembled and 
wobbled like Jell-O on a stormy 
sea. Plankton fell back onto the 
bed, feeling the softness of the 
pillow beneath him and the cool 
metal of the bed frame against 
his back. It was then that he 
noticed the pattern of the 
wallpaper, the tiny, intricate 
shapes that danced before his eye. 
They spun and swirled, forming 
complex mazes that his mind tried 
desperately to solve. It was 
mesmerizing, yet terrifying. He 
was trapped in a world of 
overstimulation, and he didn't know 
how to escape.

new karen reaching autism acquired autism Karen x Plankton Karen & Sheldon J. Plankton author is neurodivergent 1

SPONGEBOB OVERLOAD 1/2
(By NEUROFABULOUS)

The morning light 
peeked through 
the blinds, painting 
stripes on the 
bedroom floor. Karen 
stirred in her sleep, 
sitting up.

Her husband, 
Plankton, slept 
peacefully beside 
her, his arms 
wrapped around 
a pillow.

Karen looked 
over at him, 
his face calm 
and serene.

The digital 
alarm clock read 
7:00 AM. She 
carefully slid out 
of bed, trying not 
to disturb his 
slumber.

"Karen," he mumbled, 
his voice thick with 
sleep. She paused, 
half in and half out 
of the bed. Did he
wake?

But Plankton's snores grew 
softly, his breathing 
even. She sighed 
with relief.

Their son Chip, a 
lanky teenager, 
was already up.
Karen could hear 
his footsteps 
thundering down the 
hallway, 
his energy palpable
even through the 
closed bedroom door.

He burst into the 
room, a tornado 
of teenage angst and 
excitement. "Mom! Dad!"
he shouted. "It's 
the day!"

Karen winced at 
his volume. Plankton 
stirred, his eye
slitting open. "What 
is it?" he asked, 
his voice groggy.

"The science fair!" 
Chip exclaimed, his 
screen flushed with 
excitement.

Plankton's eye shot 
open and he sat up 
instantly, his mind racing. 
The patty heist.
Today was the day he had 
been meticulously planning 
for weeks. He had 
overheard Mr. Krabs, his 
rival at the Krabby Patty, 
bragging about their restaurant's 
dominance over the 
competition. Plankton had to 
have it.

"Chip, buddy," he said, 
his voice a mix of 
sleep and urgency. "I
will try to make it, but
can’t guarantee it. But
Karen, I mean ‘Mom’
can.."

Karen's eyes widened, 
but she nodded, understanding
the gravity of the situation.
Her husband’s obsession 
with Krabby Patties had
taken over again.

"I'll be there for you, 
buddy," she assured Chip, 
trying to mask her own 
disappointment.

Plankton threw the 
covers off, swinging his 
tiny legs over the side 
of the bed. His eye 
was sharp with focus, 
his mind already racing 
with the complexities 
of his heist.

"I'll make it quick," 
he told Karen, 
kissing her screen.

Plankton tiptoed, 
his heart pounding.

The office door was 
closed, but unlocked. 
He eased it open, 
his eye darting around 
the room, searching for 
any signs of movement.

Mr. Krabs and SpongeBob 
were deep in conversation, 
their backs to the door. 
Plankton took a deep 
breath and slipped in, 
his tiny frame barely 
making a sound.

"Halt!" Mr. Krabs spun 
around, his beady eyes 
locking onto Plankton. His 
face grew red with anger. 
"What do ye think yer 
doing here?"

Plankton froze, his 
heart thumping in his 
chest. "I... I... was just 
looking for a... a... "

He searched for a 
plausible lie, but his 
mind was a whirlwind of 
panic. Mr. Krabs' glower 
deepened. "Don't lie to me, 
ye tiny scoundrel! I know 
what yer after, and 
ye'll not get it!"

Mr. Krabs lunged 
forward, brandishing a 
heavy spatula. Plankton 
squeaked in alarm, trying 
to dodge the blow. But 
his reflexes weren't 
quick enough. The metal 
spatula connected with 
his head with a sickening 
crack, sending him 
crashing to the floor.

The room spun around 
Plankton as darkness 
closed in. The last thing 
he heard was SpongeBob's 
startled, "Mr. Krabs!"
before the world went 
silent.

Mr. Krabs looked 
down at Plankton's crumpled 
form, his expression a 
stormy mix of anger and 
triumph. He turned to
his trusty fry cook.

"SpongeBob," he 
barked. "Take this...this...
tiny troublemaker out 
of me office.."

Sponge Bob looked at 
Mr. Krabs, then at 
Plankton, his face a mask 
of confusion and concern. 
He gently scooped Plankton 
up with one spongy arm, 
his eyes filled with 
concern for the 
unconscious villain.

The weight of the 
situation hit him, and 
his steps were heavy 
as he carried his friend 
out of the office. He 
could feel the tension in 
the room as Mr. Krabs 
watched them go, his 
glower never leaving 
Plankton's form.

Sponge Bob's mind 
raced with questions 
and worry. He had known 
Plankton for a long time, 
despite their rivalry 
over the Krabby Patty 
formula. They had shared 
laughs and schemes in 
the past, but this...

He couldn't believe his 
boss would stoop so 
low as to attempt to
hurt Plankton.

As he stepped into 
the hallway, Sponge Bob 
quickly scanned for any 
prying eyes. The corridor 
was empty, the usual 
bustle of the Krabby Patty 
silenced by the early 
morning hour. Carefully, he 
navigated through the 
kitchen, trying not to jostle 
him.

"What have you done?" 
Sponge Bob whispered 
to the unconscious Plankton, 
his voice tight with 
concern. He couldn't 
help but feel a pang 
of anger at his friend's usual
foolishness, but his primary 
thought was to get 
him to safety.

He carefully maneuvered 
Plankton's limp body 
past the kitchen 
appliances.

The sizzle of the 
frying oil and 
the faint scent of 
sea salt filled 
the air, but 
Sponge Bob's thoughts 
were elsewhere.

With a heavy 
heart, he carried 
Plankton's limp form 
down the narrow 
alley between the 
Krabby Patty and 
the Chum Bucket. The 
morning was still 
cool, the sun not yet 
high enough to 
warm the concrete.

The journey was 
quick, but it felt like 
an eternity to Sponge 
Bob. Each step was 
precise, each breath 
measured. He didn't 
want to cause his 
friend any more harm.

He reached the 
Chum Bucket, the 
neon lights flickering 
weakly in the early 
morning. With a 
quick glance around 
to ensure no one was 
watching, he slipped 
inside, the smell of 
stale chum and 
machinery assaulting 
his nostrils.

"Karen!" he called 
out softly, his voice 
echoing in the 
small space. "Karen, it's 
Sponge Bob; I need 
your help!"

Karen rushed to the 
front of the Chum 
Bucket, her eyes widening 
at the sight of her 
husband's lifeless body. "What 
happened?" she asked, 
her voice trembling.

Sponge Bob gently 
laid Plankton down 
on their couch, 
his eyes filled with 
remorse. "He... he 
tried to steal the Krabby 
Patty formula again," he 
stammered. "Mr. Krabs... 
he hit him."

Karen's screen 
paled as she took in 
the sight of her 
injured husband. She 
quickly moved to 
his side, feeling for 
a pulse. It was there, 
still present.

"Oh, Plankton," she 
whispered, her voice 
shaking with emotion. 
Sponge Bob watched, his 
eyes brimming with 
apology.

"I didn't know 
what to do," he 
continued, his voice 
barely above a 
whisper. "Mr. Krabs... 
he just lost it."

Karen's eyes 
were cold and hard. 
"Thank you for bringing 
him home, Sponge 
Bob," she said, her 
words clipped. “It’s not
your fault..”

Her voice trailed 
off as she turned 
her attention to 
Plankton. She gently 
shook his shoulder. "Wake
up, Plankton," she 
whispered.

He didn't move.
Her eyes searched 
his face, looking for 
any sign of consciousness. 
"Wake up," she said, 
a bit louder this time, 
her voice laced with 
desperation.

The silence was 
deafening.
The room felt like 
it was closing in on 
them, the air thick 
with the scent of 
concern and fear.

Karen's voice grew 
desperate. "Plankton, wake 
up!" she shouted, 
patting his cheek 
gently. There was no 
response.

Panic began to 
creep into her voice. 
"Come on, you can 
do it," she urged, 
shaking him slightly. 
"You've got to wake 
up."

Plankton's body remained 
motionless, his single 
eye closed tight.

Sponge Bob felt the 
panic swell inside him 
like a wave crashing 
against the shore. His 
heart raced as he watched 
Karen's desperate efforts 
to revive her husband.

"Maybe we should 
call a doctor," he suggested, 
his voice quivering.

Karen's eyes snapped 
to his, a mix of fear 
and determination. "No," she 
decided firmly. "We can't 
involve anyone else. Not 
yet."

The two of them stood 
silently for a moment, 
the only sound the 
ticking of a clock 
hanging on the wall. 
They waited, every second 
seemingly stretching into 
an eternity. Each tick 
was a silent plea for 
Plankton to regain 
consciousness.

Karen's hand hovered 
over her husband's 
forehead, feeling for 
any sign of life. 
Sponge Bob looked 
on, his usually 
cheerful expression 
now etched with worry.

They waited, each 
second stretching into 
an eternity, as the 
morning sun began to 
creep into the Chum 
Bucket, casting a 
pale light over the 
disheveled scene. The 
only sounds were the 
soft whir of the 
refrigerator and the 
distant calls of seagulls.

Then, a twitch from
one of his antennas.

It was so slight that
Sponge Bob almost missed
it. But Karen's gaze was
trained on Plankton, and
she noticed immediately.
Her eyes lit up with hope.

"Plankton?" she whispered, 
her hand moving to 
his cheek, her voice 
barely audible.

There was another 
twitch, this time 
in his brow. Karen's 
heart leaped in her 
chest. "Sponge Bob, 
I think he's coming 
to."

Sponge Bob leaned 
in closer, his eyes 
fixed on Plankton's 
face. "Plankton," he 
whispered, his voice 
full of hope. "Can you 
hear us?" Plankton's 
eye cracked open, 
battling against the 
brightness of the 
morning. His vision was 
blurry, and the world 
spun around him. He 
moaned softly, his head 
throbbing with pain.

"What happened?" he 
managed to croak, his 
voice hoarse and weak.

Karen's eyes filled with 
relief. "You're 
awake!" she exclaimed, 
squeezing his hand. "You 
got hurt at the Krabby 
Patty."

new neurofabulous karen plankton 1

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

new karendy karandyn plankdy plankdyren plangebob plarenbob sandarenton cold as ice

ᵀʰᵉ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖᵒᵛᵉʳ
⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾
by @ALYJACI
ᵀʰᵉ ᴳᵃˡ ᴾᵃˡˢ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵃˡˡ ʰᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵘⁿ ᵗᵒⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵒᵘᵗˢⁱᵈᵉ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ'ˢ ᵗʳᵉᵉᵈᵒᵐᵉ! ᵀʰᵉʸ ˢᵉᵗ
ᵘᵖ ᵃ ˡᵃʳᵍᵉ ᵗᵉˡᵉᵛⁱˢⁱᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ! ᵀʰᵉʸ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵗᵃˡᵏᵉᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ˡⁱᵛᵉˢ‧ "ᴹʸ ᵈᵃᵈ
ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏˢ ᴵ'ᵐ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒⁿ ᵃ ᵈᵃᵗᵉ! ᴵ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉ ʰᵉ ʷᵃⁿᵗˢ ᵗᵒ ᵖʳᵒᵗᵉᶜᵗ ᵐᵉ‧‧‧"
ᴾᵉᵃʳˡ ᶜᵒⁿᶠⁱᵈᵉᵈ‧ "ᴵ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵈᵒⁱⁿᵍ ˢᶜⁱᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᵉˣᵖᵉʳⁱᵐᵉⁿᵗˢ ʷⁱᵗʰ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ
ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ᵐᵉ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ⁿᵉʳᵛᵒᵘˢ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ᵃ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵗᵃⁱˡᵉᵈ ᶜᵃᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᶠᵘˡˡ ᵒᶠ ʳᵒᶜᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᶜʰᵃⁱʳˢ!"
ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ'ˢ ᵃ ˢᶜⁱᵉⁿᵗⁱˢᵗ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ʰᵃˢ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵃᵍ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵍ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵗʳʸ
ᵈʳⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱᵐ!" ᴹˢ‧ ᴾᵘᶠᶠ ʳᵉᵖˡⁱᵉᵈ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵘʳᵉ ᵈʳⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ'ˢ ʳᵒᵘᵍʰ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵈᵒᵉˢ ˢᶜⁱᵉⁿᶜᵉ
ʷⁱᵗʰ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵒˡᵈ ᵃ ᶜᵃⁿᵈˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵐʸ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ'ˢ ᵉⁿᵈᵉᵃᵛᵒᵘʳˢ? ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵘʳᵖʳⁱˢᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ
ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᴮᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ˢᵗᵃⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ‧‧‧" ˢᵃʸˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧
"ᴹᵉⁿ!" ᵀʰᵉʸ ᵃˡˡ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵐᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ‧ "ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵃⁿᵈ ᵇᵒʸˢ‧‧‧" ᑫᵘᵉˢᵗⁱᵒⁿᵉᵈ
ᴾᵉᵃʳˡ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵍᵒᵗ ʳᵉᵃᵈʸ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵃˡ ᵖᵃˡˢ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵐᵃʳʳⁱᵉᵈ
ʸᵉᵗ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵃˢ ᵃ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ˢʰᵉ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ʰᵃᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵃⁿ ⁱᵈᵉᵃ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵖʳᵒᶜᵉˢˢ‧ ᴹˢ‧
ᴾᵘᶠᶠ ᵗᵃᵘᵍʰᵗ ˢᵗᵘᵈᵉⁿᵗˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵉˢ ʷᵉˡˡ⸴ ᶜᵒⁿˢⁱᵈᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜⁱʳᶜᵘᵐˢᵗᵃⁿᶜᵉˢ‧ ᴱᵛᵉⁿ ˢᵒ ᵗʰᵉ 
ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵈᵃʸ ᵃˡˡ ᵃʷᵒᵏᵉ ᵃʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵐᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ⸴ ᵉⁿᵍᵃᵍⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ᵖⁱˡˡᵒʷ ᶠⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉᵃʳˡʸ ᵈᵃʷⁿ
ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵘⁿ‧ ᴳᵃˡ ᴾᵃˡˢ! @ALYJACI

new karendy karandy sleepcore sandearl the sleepover

https://www.reddit.com/r/F
ullEpisodesOfSB/

new krabbobton spongeward plankward karendy plabscore shelbob plankrick dennton

💚💛= Plankbob

❤️💛 = Krabob

🩵💛= Squidbob

🩷💛= Patbob

🤎💛= Spandy

❤️💚 = Plabs

💙💚 = Plankaren

🤎💙= Karendy

❤️🩵 = Krabsward

new heartcore emojicore plankbob krabob squidbob patbob spandy plabs plankaren karendy krabsward spongeblog

WISDOM WITH TEETH 1/2

Karen glanced at 
the clock, its digital 
display reading 
7:58 AM.
"Alright, Plankton,
it's time to get up.
The dentist's 
appointment is 
at 8:30,"
she says.

Groaning, Plankton
pulls the covers over
his head. "Do we have
to go right now?"
he mumbles. "I'm not
even hungry for
breakfast." Karen
rolls her eyes and
smiles. "No, honey,
you're not supposed
to eat before the
surgery. Come on."

The drive to the
dental office is
filled with tension.
The scent of antiseptic
greets them as they
walk in.

Finally, the nurse
calls his name, and
his heart skips a beat.
Karen squeezes his hand
reassuringly as they
follow her down the
hallway. The chair in
the operating room is
a monstrous contraption
that looms over him
like a predator ready
to devour him. The
nurse tells him to sit,
and he does, reluctantly.

The doctor enters the
room. He explains the
procedure in detail. The nurse
wraps a blood pressure
cuff around his arm, and
he feels the squeeze. "Everything
looks good," she says,
smiling. "Now, let's get
you all set up."

The anesthesiologist
arrives, wheeling in a
cart filled with syringes
and tubes.

"Ok Plankton," the
doctor says calmly. "This
is just to help you relax."
Plankton's eye widens, but
the room quickly starts to
blur. Karen kisses him
on the forehead as if from
far away. 
The anesthetic takes hold,
and Plankton feels himself
slipping into a deep sleep,
his fear momentarily
fading to the background.
The last thing he hears
is the rhythmic beep of
the heart monitor, and then
silence.

Karen watches her husband
from the chair beside him,
his chest rising and falling
evenly. The doctor and his team
spring into action, their
movements swift and precise.
The nurse notices her tension
and offers her a magazine,
but she can't tear her eyes
away from Plankton's still
face, his mouth now open
and vulnerable.

The whirring of the drill
starts up, and she clenches
her fists in her lap.
She tries to focus on his
breathing, until
finally, she hears the doctor
say, "Alright, we're all done."
Relief floods through her,
and she exhales deeply.

The nurse gently guides
Plankton into the recovery
room, his face now swollen
and his mouth packed with
cotton. Karen takes his hand
and squeezes it.
The room is cool and dim,
designed to soothe patients
coming out of anesthesia.
The doctor enters, his mask
now removed, and gives
them a thumbs up. "It went
well. No
complications," he says, and
Karen's shoulders drop in
relief. She leans
in and whispers, "You did
so well, honey," though he's
still too asleep to hear.

The nurse explains that
he'll be groggy for a while
and that the numbness
will wear off. Karen nods,
taking in the doctor's instructions
about pain medication and
diet restrictions. Plankton's
snores fill the quiet
space, a testament to
his deep sleep. She watches
his chest rise and fall,
the rhythm comforting and
steady. The beeping of the
monitors creates a backdrop
to the scene, a gentle reminder
that he's ok. She smooths
his antennae with affection.

Karen's mind wanders to the
day ahead. The errands
they'll need to run, the meals
she'll have to prep that won't
upset his tender mouth. She'll
have to be extra careful
with him, making sure
he doesn't accidentally bite
his cheek or tongue. The
thought makes her smile,
knowing he'll be extra cranky
with the pain. But she's ready
for it, ready to be his
rock through the recovery.

The nurse checks Plankton's
vitals, her eyes flickering
to the monitor before
giving Karen an encouraging
nod. "He's doing great." Karen nods,
her gaze never leaving him.

As Plankton starts to stir,
his eye blinking open, the
world coming back into focus,
he looks at Karen with a
dazed expression.

"Wheh am I?" he slurs, his voice
muffled by the cotton in his mouth.
Karen laughs softly, her voice
soothing like a lullaby.
"You're at the dentist, sweetie.
You just had your wisdom teeth
taken out. It's all over now."
He tries to sit up, but the nurse
gently presses him back down.
"Take it easy," she says. "You're
still pretty out of it."

Plankton's eye darts around the
recovery room, looking for
anything familiar. Karen's face
is a welcome sight.
He reaches for her hand,
his own feeling like it's made
of rubber. "Whewe awe we?"
he asks again, his mind foggy
with confusion.

The nurse laughs kindly. "You're
still a little loopy from the
anesthesia," she explains.
"You're at the dentist's office.
Do you remember the surgery?"
Plankton nods slightly, the
memory of the needle piercing
his skin coming back in a
rush. "Ow...teef," he mumbles,
his hand moving to his mouth.

Karen squeezes his hand, her
smile filled with a mix of
relief and amusement. "Don't
worry, you're ok," she says,
speaking slowly and clearly.
"You're going to be groggy for
a bit, but I'm here with you."
The nurse starts to remove
the cotton, and Plankton winces
at the sudden coldness.

"I'm fwothless," he murmurs,
his voice still thick with
the anesthesia. He tries to sit
up again, but his body
feels like it's made of jelly.
The nurse places an ice pack
on his cheek, and the coolness
spreads through him like a wave.
"You're fine, Mr. Plankton,"
she says. "Your wife will take
you home soon."

Karen watches with a blend
of love and amusement as
he blinks rapidly, his eyes
trying to clear the fog.
"Whath happened tho me?"
he asks, his voice cracking.
"You had surgery, remember?"
she says, stroking his forehead.
He nods, but his gaze is still
faraway, lost in the haze
of the drugs.

"I wanth ice wath," he says,
pouting like a child who's lost
his favorite toy. Karen laughs.

"Here, honey," she says, holding
the cup to him. He sips
slowly, the cold water soothing
his dry throat. He clutches the
cup with both hands, his grip
weak but determined.

"Whewe am I?" he asks again,
his voice a whisper. Karen
smiles. "You're in the
recovery room," she repeats.
"They just took out your wisdom
teeth." Plankton nods, his eye
half-closed. He looks like a
little boy who's just woken up
from a nap, unsure of where
he is or what's happening.

He tries to sit up once more,
his body moving in slow
motion. "Whewe's my bwanket?"
he mumbles.
"You don't have a blanket, but
you have me," Karen says, her voice
gentle. The nurse returns with a set of
instructions. 

"Now, remember, no hot
food or drinks for the next
few days, ok?" the nurse
instructs, her tone motherly.
He nods, his eye drooping.
"No soup either," Karen adds,
smiling at the nurse's nod.
"Only soft things, like mashed
potatoes and pudding."

The nurse hands him a
cup of ice chips. "Here you go,"
she says, placing them in his
hand. He looks at her with a mix
of gratitude and confusion.

"Ice wath?" he repeats, his
fingers fumbling to bring
the cup to his mouth. The cold
sensation jolts him back to reality,
and he crunches on them with
gusto, dropping a few onto his
chest. Karen quickly wipes them
off with a napkin, trying not to
laugh at his childlike antics.

The nurse leaves them with a final
smile and a promise to check
back soon. Plankton looks around
the room again, his eye wide and
uncertain.

"Whath's thith?" he 
asks, pointing
at the IV in his 
hand.

"It's your pain 
medication, Plankton,"
Karen explains, her voice 
soft and soothing. "It's to
help you feel better."

He nods, his eye
half-closed, and snuggles
against her shoulder. "Tank 
you, Kahen," he mumbles,
his speech still slurred.

"You're welcome," she
whispers, stroking his hair.
"You're going to be ok."
The room spins slightly
around him, and he feels
his eyelid growing heavy.
With the coldness of the
recovery room and the warmth
of Karen beside him, Plankton
slips back into a doze, his
breathing deepening.

The nurse returns, checking
his vitals and giving Karen
a knowing smile. "It's normal
for him to be a bit out of it.
The anesthesia can take a while
to wear off. He'll be more
lucid in a bit."

Plankton's eye flutters open,
and he looks around the room
again, drool forming at the 
corner of his mouth
as he tries to articulate.

"Whewe's...my...bwanket?" he asks,
his voice a slurred mess.
Karen chuckles with love and pity.
"You don't need a blanket,"
she says, wiping the drool
away with a tissue. "You're
right here with me."

He looks down at the ice chips
in his hand, and then back up
at Karen, his expression
puzzled. "Mashed potatoes?"
he repeats, his voice hopeful.

"Yes, mashed potatoes," she confirms,
laughing lightly. "And maybe
some Jell-O for dessert."
The mention of food seems to
perk him up, and his eye
brightens slightly. But the
drowsiness wins, and he lets
his head loll back onto
the chair, his breathing 
deepening.

Karen watches him with a
mixture of love and concern.
The sight of him, so vulnerable
and childlike, tugs at her
heartstrings. She can't help but
wonder what kind of day
this will be, caring for him like
this. But she's ready for it,
ready to be the strong one.

new wisdom with teeth karen plankton 1

WISDOM WITH TEETH 2/2

The nurse returns with
a wheelchair. "Alright, Mr.
Plankton," she says with a
smile. "Let's get you up and
moving."

He looks at her with
a dazed expression, his
mouth hanging open slightly
as he drools onto his chest.
"Whath's the maddah?" 
he asks, his words jumbled.

Karen tries to hide her
smile as she gently wipes
his mouth with a tissue.
"You're just groggy, sweetie.
The anesthesia's wearing off,"
she explains, taking his hand.
"Let's get you into the chair."

With her help, Plankton
manages to stand, his legs
shaky beneath him. The nurse
places the wheelchair behind
him, and he plops down with a
sigh of relief, the chair's cushions
enveloping his frail frame. His drool
hangs from his mouth like a
tiny waterfall, and she can't
help but lean in and kiss him
gently on the forehead.

He looks up at Karen with
the wide, wondering eye
of a toddler discovering the world
for the first time.

"Whath's...thath?" he asks,
his gaze fixed on the
wheelchair. Karen laughs
lightly, her hand still
steadying his arm. "It's for
you to sit in so you don't
have to walk all the way
to the car."

He nods slowly, the action
causing his antennae to wobble.
With a gentle push from the
nurse, the wheelchair begins
to move, and Plankton looks
like a lost child in an
unfamiliar playground. His
drool forms a small puddle in
his lap, and Karen graciously
hands him another napkin.
The corridor outside the
recovery room is a blur of
white walls and sterile
equipment, but the warmth
of Karen's hand on his shoulder
keeps him anchored.

"Whath's...thath?" he asks again,
his gaze fixed on the ceiling
lights as they pass above him.
They look like stars, twinkling
in an alien sky. Karen smiles
patiently, pointing out each one.
"They're just lights, Plankton.
We're in the hallway now."

His eye follows the nurse's
hand as she opens the door to
the waiting area.
She can see the fear
and confusion in his gaze,
but she knows it's just the drugs.

A young couple with a toddler
looks over as they pass by. The
little girl giggles, pointing at
his mouth. "Mommy, why is
he drooling?" she asks
innocently. The mother blushes
and pulls her daughter away,
muttering an apology to Karen.
Plankton's cheeks redden, and
he tries to wipe his mouth
discreetly with the back of his hand.
"It's ok," Karen whispers,
her voice a gentle breeze.
"You're just a little out of it."

He nods, his gaze still
mesmerized by the lights. "Whath's
thath?" he asks again, pointing
at a framed poster on the wall.
Karen leans in to look. "It's a
picture of a happy family,"
she says, her voice a balm to
his confusion. His antennae
twitch, and he nods again, the
motion setting off a fresh wave
of drool.

The nurse wheels him out
to the car, and Karen helps him
into the passenger seat, his
body moving like a ragdoll.
"Buckle up, Plankton," she says,
and he fumbles with the seatbelt,
his hands slipping over the
buckle. She fastens it for him,
his cheek pressed against
the cool leather. "Whewe's
we going?" he slurs, his voice
laced with sleep. "Home," she 
says. His mouth hangs open slightly,
a string of drool connecting
his bottom lip to his chin.

"Whath's happening?" he mumbles,
his head lolling to the side.
"You're ok, honey. We're
just driving home." She keeps
her voice low, hoping to keep
the outside world at bay.

The car jolts over a bump,
and Plankton's eye snaps open.
"Ow," he whines, his hand
flying to his mouth. The
cotton has shifted, and
the pain is sharp. Karen
quickly reaches over and
readjusts it, her touch gentle.
"You're ok," she whispers.
"Whath's this?" he slurs, his hand
fumbling with the seatbelt.
"It's keeping you safe,"
she says, her voice steady
and calm. "Just hold on, ok?"

He nods, his eyelid drooping
almost immediately. 
"Whath's...whath's..." he
mumbles before falling
asleep. Then his head
nods forward, jerking back
up as he started to doze
off. He wakes with a snort, the
cotton still lodged in his
mouth. Karen laughs softly,
reaching over to remove
it. "Almost there, sweetie,"
she says. His eye is
glassy, and he nods, his
head lolling again.

The car hits another
bump, and his eye flies open
again, wide with panic. "Whe...
whath...whath's happening?"
he asks, his voice high
pitched.

"It's ok," Karen repeats,
keeping her tone calm and
soothing. "We're just driving
home. Try to relax."

Plankton's eye closes,
and for a brief moment,
the car is silent except
for the purr of the engine.
But then he's jolted
awake again, his head
snapping back with a start.
"Whewe awe we?" he asks,
his voice slurred.

"Almost home, sweetie,"
Karen says, her voice steady.
He nods, his head falling
back onto the headrest.
The car's movement rocks him
like a cradle, and his eye
closes with a snore.

But the jostle of a turn
wakes him up with a
start. "Whath's happening?"
he mumbles, his eye
unfocused. The world
outside the window is a
blur of colors and shapes.
Karen smiles, taking his
hand in hers. "Just a turn.
We're almost there."

Another snore escapes
his throat, and his head
lolls to the side again. Karen
gently shakes him awake.
"We're home," she says, her
voice a beacon in the fog.
He blinks, his vision
swimming with sleep.
"Whe...whe...whath's that?"
he asks, his voice barely
a murmur as the car
slows to a stop. "Whe...whath's
going on?" he asks again.
His eye is heavy, and
his words are a jumble.
With a sigh, she unbuckles
his seatbelt and helps
him out of the car, his legs
still wobbly. The cool breeze slaps
his face, and he winces.
"Home," he murmurs, his eye
half-closed.

Karen guides him to the
front door, his steps
labored. The house is
quiet, save for the distant
hum of the refrigerator.
Inside, she helps him to the
couch, where he flops down
like a ragdoll, his body
heavy with exhaustion.
"Whe...whe...whath's that?"
he asks again, his head
lolling to the side.

Karen chuckles softly. "It's
our living room, Plankton,"
she says, placing a pillow
under his head, but Plankton
barely registers.

"Whath's that?" he asks again,
his gaze wandering to the TV.
It's off, but in his drug-induced
haze, it's a source of fascination.
Karen sits down beside him,
his body a dead weight against
the couch cushions. She takes
his hand in hers, her thumb
tracing circles on his palm.
"It's just the TV, honey. You
don't need to worry about it."

He nods, his head still
lolling to the side. "Whe...whath
awe we washing?" His question
hangs in the air, and she laughs
softly. "We're not watching
anything. It's off."

The TV seems to beckon
to him, and he tries to
sit up, his body protesting.
"Whe...whath's on?" he
slurs, his antennae waving
sluggishly.

"It's not on, Plankton,"
Karen says, her voice a warm
embrace. "Why don't you
just rest?" She tucks the
throw blanket around his
shoulders and reclines the
sofa. His eyelid flickers,
the struggle between
sleep and curiosity evident.

The room starts to spin,
and Plankton's antennae
wave erratically. "I'm...
so tiwed," he mumbles, his
words a gentle protest.
Karen nods, her smile
understood. "Sleep, sweetie.
I'll be here when you wake up."

He nods, his eyelid fluttering
closed, and his breathing
becomes deep and rhythmic.
Karen watches him for a moment,
his chest rising and falling with
the comfort of a sleeping
babe's. Then she gently
slides the blanket over him,
his snores the only sound
piercing the quiet.

The room dims as the
afternoon sun moves behind
the curtains, casting a soft
glow across the living
room. Plankton's hand, still
clutching Karen's, slips to
the floor with a thump, and
his snores grow louder. Karen
chuckles, reaching for it
to place it gently on his chest.
His breathing is slow and
even, his chest rising and
falling beneath the blanket.

Karen sits for a moment,
watching him sleep, her mind
racing with all the things
she needs to do: prepare
his meals, make sure he takes
his medicine on time, keep
an eye on his swelling. But
for now, she's content to
just sit and watch him,
his features relaxed and
peaceful in slumber. 

new wisdom with teeth karen plankton 2

2/2 THE MOOON

Karen couldn't help 
but giggle at his befuddled 
state. His usual stoic demeanor 
was nowhere to be seen, 
replaced by a childlike 
wonder and confusion. He 
tried to sit up again, his 
movements clumsy and 
uncoordinated. "Stay still," 
she said, placing a firm 
but gentle hand on his 
shoulder.
"How... how's it... it over?" he 
slurred, his mouth feeling 
like it was stuffed with cotton
trying to form words around 
his thick tongue.

The nurse, who had seen 
this reaction before, 
offered a reassuring pat 
on the arm. "You're all done, 
Mr. Plankton. The anesthesia 
is just taking its time to 
wear off. You're going to feel 
a bit funny for a while."

Plankton's eye rolled back, 
his body lolling to the 
side like a ragdoll's. "I can't 
feel my face," he mumbled, 
his words barely coherent. 
"It's the anesthesia," she 
explained, her voice soft and 
soothing. "It'll wear off soon."

Plankton's eye rolled 
back in his head, and 
his antennae flopped to 
the sides as if they had lost 
their will to stand tall. "I've 
been... I've been... to the 
mooon!" he exclaimed, his 
slurred words tripping over 
each other. The nurse and 
Karen couldn't help but laugh 
at his nonsensical rambling.

"The moon?" Karen 
managed to get out between 
giggles. "You mean the dentist's 
chair?"

Plankton's eye snapped 
back to hers, his antennae 
perking up slightly. "No, no... 
the moo... the cheesy moo!" he 
insisted, his speech still 
slurred and his gaze 
unfocused. His hand 
waved in the air, trying to 
describe something that 
clearly only existed in his 
anesthesia-induced haze.

Karen's laughter grew 
louder as she 
watched him. "The cheesy moon?" 
she repeated, trying to make 
sense of his gibberish. 
The nurse's chuckles grew 
to a full-blown laugh, shaking 
her whole body. "It's ok
Mr. Plankton," she said, 
wiping a tear from her eye. 
"You're safe here."

Plankton's antennae 
waved erratically, his mouth 
forming another round of 
slurred syllables. "The... the... 
shmoobly wobble!" he exclaimed, 
his eye glazed over with a 
far-off look. "Whewe's shmoobly
go?"

Karen couldn't hold back 
her laughter anymore. 
"Oh, Plankton, you're so 
funny when you're like this!"
she exclaimed, her voice 
full of mirth.

"Fum-fum," Plankton 
slurred. "I'm not 
fum-fum," he protested, his 
voice a mix of indignation 
and the lingering effects of 
the anesthesia. His antennae 
wobbled. "Wha’ you do wiff 
Mx shmoobly?"

"Your mouth is just numb," she 
explained, her voice shaking 
with laughter. "You had 
wisdom teeth removed."

"Widom... teef?" Plankton 
repeated, his voice a mix of 
slurs and half-sounds. "The... 
the shmoobly wobble took 
them?"

Karen's laughter grew. "No, Plankton, 
your wisdom teeth. They were 
removed."

Plankton's eye searched hers, 
his expression one of utter 
perplexity. "But... but where's 
the shmoobly wobble?" he demanded, 
his mouth a mess of numbness 
and anesthesia.

Karen couldn't contain her 
laughter any longer, bending 
over in her seat, her hand 
over her screen. The nurse 
was equally amused, her shoulders 
shaking with silent giggles.

"Shmoobly wobble?" she 
managed to ask between gasps. 
"What's a shmoobly wobble?"

Plankton's antennae 
waved with the vigor of a 
drunken sailor. "It's... it's a... 
a vnorbly snork!" he exclaimed, 
his words a delightful jumble 
that made no sense in the 
sober world. Karen's laughter 
was infectious, and even the nurse 
found it hard to maintain her 
professional demeanor.

"A vnorbly snork?" she 
repeated, her smile growing 
wider. "What does that do?"

Plankton's face 
scrunched up as he 
tried to gather his thoughts. 
"It... it makes... makes the teef... 
it makes the teef go bye-bye!" 
he exclaimed, his antennae 
waving wildly. The nurse 
covered her mouth, her eyes 
twinkling with amusement. 
"Oh, I see," she said, nodding 
as if she understood. "The 
shmoobly wobble is quite 
a character."

Karen wiped a tear 
from her screen, her 
laughter subsiding. "I think 
we should get you home, 
sweetheart," she said, her voice 
still thick with mirth. "You 
need to rest."

Plankton's antennae 
twitched, his gaze 
firmly locked on the nurse. 
"The... the... snibble-bobble?" 
he declared. "Take the 
snibble-bobble home, Karen..."

The nurse's eyes 
twinkled with humor and she nodded. 
"Yes, Mr. Plankton. The snibble-
bobble will take good care of 
you at home."

Plankton's mouth 
opened and closed a few 
times, trying to form 
words that simply would 
not come out right. "Karen, 
did you... did you see the... the... 
the... floobly-doobly?"

Karen's laughter 
bubbled up again. "The floobly-
doobly?" she repeated, her voice 
wobbling with mirth. "What's a 
floobly-doobly?"

Plankton looked at her with
confusion. "Huh? The whath?"
He asked her.

Karen tried to calm her
laughter.
"The floobly-doobly, Plankton,"
she said, smiling broadly. "You
mentioned it just now."

Plankton's eye searched hers,
his thoughts a jumble. "I... I don't
know," he murmured, his voice
trailing off.

With the nurse's help, Karen 
managed to get him into a sitting
position, his movements sluggish
and clumsy. His legs felt like jellyfish,
flailing about with no sense of
direction. "Come on," she coaxed,
helping him stand. 

Plankton's eye remained 
half-closed as he stumbled towards
the door. The hallway looked 
like a twisted kelp forest, and 
his body felt like a ship adrift 
without a compass. The nurse 
provided a steady arm, guiding 
him down the corridor.

"Keep walking," she instructed, 
but with each step, Plankton 
seemed to drift closer to sleep. 
His head bobbed, his eyelid 
fighting a losing battle against 
the siren's call of slumber.

"Plankton, stay with me," 
Karen urged, her voice a gentle 
reminder of the world around 
him. But his body had other 
ideas, his legs giving out 
under him. 
The nurse caught him, her laugh 
now a warm chuckle at his 
plight.

"It's the anesthesia," she 
explained. "It'll wear off 
soon. Just keep talking to him, 
it'll help keep him alert."

Karen nodded. "Look, Plankton," 
she said. "Can you see 
the little fishy?"

Plankton's eye snapped open, 
his antennae shooting up. "Fishy?" 
he repeated.

He took a few wobbly steps 
before his legs gave out 
once more, and he leaned 
heavily on the nurse. 
"Whoa, there," she said, 
steadying him with a laugh.
"We're almost to the car."

Plankton's antennae 
drooped, his eye half-closed 
again. "So... so tiwed," he 
mumbled.

"We're almost there," 
Karen assured.

The nurse opened the door 
to the waiting area. Plankton 
blinked slowly, his eyelid
drooping once again. The 
bright light from outside 
was like a siren's song, 
lulling him back into the 
depths of sleep.

"Come on, Plankton, stay 
awake," Karen encouraged.

But the world was spinning, 
and the siren's call of sleep 
was growing stronger. With 
each step closer to the car, 
his eyelid grew heavier, and 
his mind swam with a haze 
of disorientation. The floor 
beneath his feet felt like 
waves, and he stumbled again, 
his hand reaching out for 
support that wasn't there. 
"Keep talking," the 
nurse whispered to Karen, her 
eyes sparkling with 
amusement.

Karen took a deep breath, 
forcing her own laughter 
down. "Remember the time 
we found the treasure?" she 
asked, hoping to keep him 
alert. Plankton's antennae 
perked up slightly, his 
sluggish eye focusing on 
hers. "Tweasure?" he murmured.

The nurse nodded encouragingly, 
and Plankton took another step, 
his body swaying like a piece 
of kelp in the current. "Yeah," 
he mumbled, "the... the... 
goldy wobble." His words were 
slurred, his mind lost in 
the fog of the anesthesia.

They made it to the car, 
and Karen gently guided him 
into the passenger seat. She 
buckled him in, his body already 
slack with the weight of 
exhaustion. "Tell me more," 
she said, trying to keep 
his thoughts on the treasure 
they had found together, 
anything to keep his mind 
engaged.

But Plankton's eye weas 
closing again, his head lolling 
against the headrest. 
"Goldy... wobble... " he murmured, 
his words barely audible. "It's okay, 
sweetheart," Karen said, her voice 
soothing. "You can rest."

With a contented sigh, 
Plankton gave in to the 
warm embrace of slumber, 
his body going limp. Karen 
started the engine and drove 
carefully, her mind racing 
with the events of the day. The 
thought of her stoic husband, 
reduced to a slurring mess, 
was too absurd to fully 
comprehend. Yet, there was 
a tenderness in his vulnerability 
that made her love him all the 
more. 

new the mooon karenton karankton 2

KAREN REACHING AUTISM pt. 2
(Autistic author)

When Karen finally did come 
to check on him, her digital 
voice was cool and devoid of 
emotion. "Plankton, dear, you've 
been in here for quite some time," 
she said. "Another fail, huh?"

Plankton's tiny shoulders slumped. 
He couldn't bring himself to 
explain the chaos in his head. 
How could he possibly make 
Karen, his logical, computer 
wife, understand the tumult 
of sensations that had overtaken 
his being? He just nodded.

Karen's screen flickered, 
perhaps processing his lack of 
enthusiasm as another 
defeat. "You know what you 
need," she said, her voice 
still calm and soothing. "Some
good old-fashioned break
from scheming." Plankton nodded 
weakly, unable to argue, which she
found unusual.

"Why don't you take a walk?"
she suggested, her voice a gentle 
nudge. "Fresh air can do 
wonders for the mind."

Plankton didn't answer.
Karen knew better than 
to push him when he was like this.
She had seen his mood swings 
before, his moments of despair
after a failed plan, but this was
different. This was something 
she hadn't seen in her 
decades of being by his side.

"Plankton, are you sure 
you're okay?" she asked again, her 
synthetic voice a stark contrast to 
the tumultuous emotions she 
couldn't understand.

He nodded, trying to smile, 
but it felt more like a grimace. 
"Sure okay, Karen."

Karen's concern grew as 
she watched him struggle to 
his feet. It was clear that 
his usual boundless energy was 
nowhere to be found. He stumbled 
out of the bedroom and into the 
hallway, his steps slow and 
deliberate. The once-mighty 
Plankton, reduced to a mere 
shadow of his former self.

As he approached the door 
of the Chum Bucket, Karen 
followed, her sensors tuned to 
his every movement. The 
usual sounds of their underwater 
world were amplified, echoing 
through the narrow corridors 
like a symphony of chaos. Each 
step was a battle, each breath 
a victory. He paused, his hand 
shaking as it hovered over the 
handle.

"Maybe not today," he murmured, 
his voice barely audible over 
his own racing heartbeat. Karen 
stood silently beside him, her 
systems trying to comprehend 
his sudden change in behavior. 
He had always been so driven, 
so focused on his goals, but now 
his eye had a faraway look, as 
if he was seeing something 
that she couldn't.

"Take your time," she said, her 
tone softer than ever. "I'll be 
here when you're ready."

Plankton looked up at her. "Take 
your time," he murmured, echoing 
Karen's words. "Take your time."

She looks at him.  "Take your 
time, take your time, take your 
time." He repeats aloud back to 
Karen, who's now even more 
concerned, her screens flickering 
with worry. Plankton's voice 
sounds strange, echoing his own 
words as if they're coming from 
someone else, from another 
time. It's a peculiar behavior, 
one she's never observed in him 
before.

He walks over to the 
control room, where his various 
inventions are lined up like a 
strange army of metal and 
wires. Each gizmo and gadget 
a silent testament to his 
unyielding quest for the Krabby 
Patty formula. But now, they 
seemed like mere toys, 
overwhelming him with their 
complexity. The room spins, 
and Plankton feels like he's 
drowning in a sea of his own 
creations. "Take your time, 
take your time," he whispers, 
his voice a distant echo in 
his own mind.

He sits down in his chair, 
his eye glazed over, and 
repeats the phrase over and 
over. "Take your time, take your 
time, take your time." The 
words become a mantra, a 
lifeline in the storm of 
sensory overload. Karen watches 
from her console, her algorithms 
racing to understand this 
new behavior.

The phrase rolls off his 
tongue, a soothing rhythm in 
the cacophony of his thoughts. 
"Take your time, take your time." 
It's as if he's trying to convince 
his own brain to slow down, to 
make sense of the world again. 
The echo of his voice in the 
metal walls of the Chum 
Bucket seems to calm him, if 
only a little. Karen doesn't know
what to make of this.

Whatever the cause, 
she knows she must 
tread carefully. "Plankton," Karen says, 
trying to connect to his 
current state, "I'm here for you."

He looks at her. 
"Take your time," 
he murmurs again.
"Plankton I'm here
for you." He parrots.

Karen's systems whirr, 
analyzing the change in 
his language patterns. His 
usual sharp wit and sarcasm
have given way to something 
more... mechanical. It's as if he's 
trying to communicate but 
his words are stuck in a loop, 
like a broken record. She 
decides to play along, hoping 
it might snap him out of it. 
"Take your time, take your 
time," she repeats back to him, 
her digital voice mimicking 
his tone as closely as possible.

For a moment, 
his eye brightens, as if 
he's found a familiar 
rhythm in the chaos. Then, 
just as quickly, it dims again. 
"Take your time, take your 
time," he murmurs, his gaze 
flicking from one corner 
of the room to the next.

Karen's screens change 
from concern to confusion.
She's observed Plankton's 
moods and quirks for years, 
but this is something she 
can't quite pinpoint.

"Take your time, take your 
time," Plankton whispers again, 
his voice a strange mix 
of urgency and defeat. 
Karen nods, trying to 
comfort him with her 
usual efficiency. "Of course," 
she says, her voice a 
soft beep in the silence. 
"I'll always be here for 
you. Let's eat dinner."

But Plankton doesn't move. 
He just sits there, staring 
into space, his hand 
still hovering over the 
control panel. Karen doesn't 
understand why he's so 
upset. To her, it's just 
another day, another 
failed attempt at the Krabby 
Patty formula. But to Plankton, 
it's like the world has 
shifted on its axis, leaving 
his tiny body adrift in a 
sea of sensations he can't 
comprehend.

"Dinner will be ready soon," 
she says, trying to bring him 
back to the present. But 
Plankton seems lost in 
his own thoughts, his 
eye unfocused. So she
goes up to him.

"Plankton?" she asks, 
placing a gentle hand on his 
shoulder. "Are you okay?"

He jumps at her touch, 
his senses on high alert.
His hand goes to where
she touched him, his
opposite hand doing the
same to the other shoulder.

"Karen," he says slowly,
his voice a mechanical 
whisper. Karen's circuits 
flicker with confusion. She 
doesn't understand why he's 
so on edge, why his reactions 
are so exaggerated. To her, 
this is just another setback.

"Plankton," she repeats, her 
hand back on his shoulder.
"You need to eat. It'll make 
you feel better." Karen's 
touch feels unbearable.

He flinches, his skin 
crawling with the sensation.
It's too much. "No," he says, 
his voice a croak. "No dinner."

Karen's screens blink, 
recalculating her approach. "Okay," 
she says, her voice even. "But you
have to eat something." She pats him 
gently, but it feels jolting.

"No," Plankton whispers, 
his voice a fragile thread. The 
slightest touch feels like a 
thunderclap in his newfound 
sensory prison.

Karen's screens 
flicker, unsure of what to 
make of his sudden aversion.

"Take your time," she 
suggests again, hoping 
the mantra will bring 
him comfort. But Plankton 
simply shakes his head, 
his eye wide as he starts
to rock back and forth.
Karen watches, her 
confusion growing.

"What is it?" she asks, 
her voice a soothing 
hum. "What's wrong?"

Plankton's gaze flits around 
the room, his pupil 
expanding and contracting 
as he tries to process 
everything at once. "Can't...can't 
explain," he stammers, his voice 
now a jagged mess of static.

Karen's screens light up with 
analysis, trying to piece 
together what could have 
caused this drastic shift in 
his behavior. Could it be 
something in the latest Krabby 
Patty attempt? A side effect of 
his latest invention?

"Plankton," she says, her 
voice a soft beep, "What happened 
at the Krusty Krab today?"

He looks at her, his expression 
unreadable. "Mr. Krabs...Plankton
Sponge Bob, Plankton. Karen..."

He trails off, his eye
filling with a sudden 
despair. It's clear that 
his usual sharpness has 
been replaced by a fog of 
overwhelming sensation.

new karen reaching autism acquired autism author is neurodivergent 2

A TOOTHY STORY pt. 2



The room is quiet
except for the occasional 
slosh of the saline 
and the whirring of 
the chair's recline. Karen
watches as the nurse, 
Nina, applies gauze to
the newly-emptied sockets
where the teeth once were.
The redness is stark
against Plankton's 
slackened face. His snores
are deep and even, 
his antennae resting limply 
on the chair's headrest.
The doctor, Dr. Marlin,
gives her a thumbs-up, a silent
assurance that everything went
according to plan.

Karen feels a weight lift
from her shoulders. The 
procedure is over, and Plankton
is safe. His breathing 
continues, the anesthesia
still keeping him in its 
gentle embrace of peaceful 
slumber.

Nina turns to her with a
sympathetic smile. "It's normal for
patients to feel a bit groggy
once they wake up. Sometimes
they're a bit disoriented. It's like
coming out of a deep sleep.
It's normal if today he seems a
little out of it. Bleeding and
brushing are to be expected, and
swelling is normal."

"But he'll be okay?" Karen
asks, her voice shaking.
"More than okay," Dr. Marlin
assures her, "Just follow the
aftercare instructions and he'll
be back to his usual self in no time.
Just remember, no solid foods
for a few days, lots of fluids, and
keep those ice packs handy."

Nina adds, "Keep an eye on
him. He might be a bit
forgetful, or say some funny
things. It's just the anesthesia
wearing off. Nothing to worry
about."

As they wheel Plankton into
recovery, Karen watches his
chest rise and fall with each
breath.

Nina, the nurse, explains,
"The numbness is normal,
it's the local anesthesia wearing
off. It can feel weird, but
don't worry, it'll fade. As for
sleepiness, it's just the body
recovering from the anesthesia.
He might be a bit wobbly on your
feet or have some difficulty
speaking because of the numbness. 
Just take it slow, okay? Yet you can
talk to him right now while he wakes
if you'd like, even if he doesn't
fully understand you yet."

Karen nods, leaning in close
to her husband's. "It's over,
Plankton," she murmurs. "You did
great. Just a little bit more sleep
and then we'll go home." Plankton's breaths
are slow and steady, his body
still under the anesthesia's spell.

The recovery room is dimly lit.
The nurse, Nina, keeps a close eye
on Plankton as Karen sits beside him,
her hand resting on his arm. She's
always been there for him, a constant
source of comfort in the face of fear.

The receptionist from earlier, Becky,
comes in to check on Plankton, her
face still cheerful despite the early hour.
"How's our patient?" she asks Karen,
glancing at the monitors that track his
recovery. Plankton's chest rises and falls
steadily, his snores punctuating the quiet.
Karen smiles weakly. "He's still out of it."

Becky nods. "That's normal. The anesthesia
takes a little while to wear off. He'll
wake up soon enough. You can talk to him if
you'd like. Sometimes it helps to hear
familiar voices."

Karen looks down at Plankton's
peaceful face. "You're going to be okay,
sweetheart," she says softly. "Just a little
longer, and then we'll go home. No more
worrying."

A line of drool starts to trickle from
the corner of Plankton's numb mouth. It's
a sight Karen's seen before, but only during
his deepest slumbers.

She reaches for a tissue and gently
dabs at the saliva pooling, his body
still under the sedative's grip. She
cannot help but feel a twinge of pity
for his vulnerable state, despite his
snoring.

The drool slowly starts to form a
tiny river on the chair, a silent
testament to the depth of his sleep.
Karen wipes it away, knowing he'd be embarrassed
if he were conscious of the sight.

The nurse, Nina, checks his vitals,
satisfied with his progress.
"You can sit him up now," she says.
"Just make sure he's actually
awake before we get him walking."

Karen carefully turns Plankton's chair
with the lever, which gently
guides his sleeping body upright.

As the chair moves, Plankton's
snoring changes pitch,
his head lolling slightly.
Karen smiles despite herself,
his vulnerability endearing.
Gently, she cups his cheek
guiding his head back 
up. "Don't worry, Plankton.
Almost time to go home," 
she says, her voice
soft as a morning lullaby.

new a toothy story karen plankton 2

KAREN HAS A LESSON pt. 2
(Autistic author)

He blinked a few times, his vision 
clearing slowly. He saw her face, 
wet with tears, and his own 
realization dawned. "Oh, Karen," he 
whispered, his voice filled with 
remorse. Plankton struggled to 
sit up, wincing as pain shot through 
his head.

The lab looked the same, but 
something felt off. The air was 
charged with an unspoken tension 
that Plankton couldn't quite put his 
finger on. He tried to recall the 
argument, but the details were 
fuzzy. All he knew was that he'd 
fallen, and now Karen was 
apologizing for something she 
wasn't even at fault for.

He looked into her screen, searching 
for answers. "What happened?" he 
asked, his voice hoarse. Karen took a 
deep breath, steeling herself for 
what she had to say. "You had an 
accident in the lab," she replied, her 
voice calm and measured. "You hit 
your head." But as she watched him, 
she noticed something else. His movements 
were stiff, his gaze unfocused. He 
wasn't quite the same. Karen 
noticed that his usual vibrant 
expressions were absent, replaced 
by a vacant stare. She chalked it up
to lightheadedness.

"Karen," Plankton began, his voice 
still slurred. "Karen." 
He paused, his eye darting around 
the room as if searching for words.

Karen felt a cold knot form. Something was 
different about him, something she 
couldn't quite place. His movements 
were rigid, his gaze unwavering, 
like he was seeing her but not 
really seeing her. "What is it?" she 
asked, trying to keep the 
worry out of her voice.

Plankton's eye finally met hers, 
but there was no spark of 
recognition, no mischievous 
twinkle that she was used to. 
"Plankton glad to see Karen," he 
said, his tone flat and unemotional.

That wasn't right. "Plankton, do you 
know where you are?" she asked 
nervously.

Plankton nodded slowly, his gaze 
still unnaturally focused. "Home," 
he responded, his voice devoid of 
the warmth and love she was 
accustomed to. "The Chum Bucket."

Karen's eyes searched his, looking 
for any sign of the man she knew, 
but all she found was a distant 
shadow. Panic began to creep in 
as the gravity of the situation 
started to dawn on her. This wasn't 
just a bump on the head. Something 
was very wrong.

"Do you remember me?" she 
asked, her voice trembling.

Plankton's eye searched her, 
his expression unchanging. "Karen," 
he responds correctly. "Wife of Plankton.
Computer wife as of July 31, 1999."

The words hit Karen like a cold 
wave. He knew her name, but the 
way he said it, like he was recounting 
a fact rather than speaking to his 
beloved wife, chilled her to the bone. 
She felt the ground shift beneath 
her, her world tilting on its axis.

"Plankton, what's wrong?" she asked, 
desperation seeping into her voice. 
He looked at her, his gaze unblinking. 
"Wife Karen," he said, his voice 
robotic. "Irritated with Plankton's lack of 
attention to anniversary dinner."

The words were right, but 
the emotion, the love, the personality 
behind them was gone. It was like 
talking to a stranger, a very tiny, very 
confused stranger.

Karen felt a tear roll down her 
screen. "Plankton, can you hear me?" 
she asked, her voice quivering. "I'm not 
just 'Wife Karen', I'm your Karen. Your 
partner, your best friend."

Plankton's response was a 
mechanical nod. "Affirmative," he said, 
his tone unwavering. "Karen is wife.
Plankton is husband."

The coldness of his words 
cut through Karen like a knife. Her 
eyes searched his, desperately trying 
to find any sign of the man she 
knew was in there. "Plankton," she 
said softly, "it's me. It's Karen. Do you 
understand?"

He nodded again, his antennae 
barely twitching. "Understood," he 
replied, his voice devoid of inflection. 
"And Karen is upset?"

Karen nodded, trying not to 
crumble. "Yes, I'm upset," she 
managed to say, her voice choked 
with emotion. "But more than that, I'm 
scared. You're not acting like 
yourself, Plankton."

He blinked, his gaze shifting 
slightly. "Scared," he echoed, as if 
trying to understand the concept. 
"Why Karen scared?"

"Because you're not you," Karen 
managed to whisper,  
breaking with every robotic 
response. "You're acting so... different."

Plankton tilted his head, trying 
to process her words. "Different 
how?" he asked, his voice still 
lacking any emotional depth.

Karen took a deep breath, trying 
to explain something she didn't fully 
understand herself. "You're not showing 
your feelings," she said. "You're not... connecting 
with me like you usually do."

Plankton's face remained a 
mask of confusion. "Connections," he 
muttered. "Emotional bonds." He 
nodded slowly. "Important for relationship.
Plankton in love with Karen."

Karen felt a flicker of hope.
"That's right," she said, her voice 
gentle. "I know you love me. But 
you're not showing it, not like before."

Plankton's antennae twitched 
slightly as he processed this new 
information. "Plankton must
adjust behavior to align with Karen's 
desired emotional output; how?"

Karen felt a pang of sadness.
He was trying to understand, but
his usual charm was nowhere to be 
found. She took his hand in hers. 
"Just talk to me," she said, her 
voice barely above a whisper. "Tell 
me what you're thinking, what you're 
feeling."

Plankton looked at her, his 
expression still vacant. "Plankton 
thinking about Karen," he 
said, his voice flat. "Plankton feeling 
determined."

Karen's eyes searched his, looking 
for any sign of the emotion 
his words conveyed. "Determined 
to what?" she asked, hopeful.

"Determined to what," he echoed.
"Karen saying, determined to what.
Plankton determined to show Karen
love, Karen saying determined to what."

Karen realized the depth of 
his change. This wasn't just a 
concussion or a temporary loss of 
memory; it was something much 
more profound, something that had 
stripped him of his very essence.

"Plankton," she began, her voice 
shaking, "I don't know what happened 
to you, but I need you to try. Can 
you tell me how you feel?" But then he
starts to rock back and forth to stim,
humming their wedding song.

The sight of her husband's usually 
expressive features now so vacant and
his movements so repetitive was 
alarming. Karen felt a sob rise in her 
throat, but she pushed it down. She 
needed to stay strong, for him.

"Plankton," she said, her voice 
steadier than she felt. "Look at me.
I need you to focus. Can you tell me 
how you feel, in your own words?"

He stopped rocking and turned 
his head to look at her, his eye 
still distant. "Feelings," he 
repeated. "Love, anger, sadness, 
joy. Concepts. Plankton has them.
Karen saying, determined to what."

Karen's hope sank. The realization 
was setting in. This wasn't just a 
case of a bump on the head. Plankton's 
accident had changed him in a way 
she didn't fully comprehend. The 
lab, once filled with the warmth of 
his passion and dreams, now felt cold 
and sterile.

Her mind raced as she searched 
for any indication of the man 
she knew. The way he spoke, the 
way he moved, it was as if a 
switch had been flipped.

"Plankton, does your head hurt?"

"Cephalgia via blunt force trauma.
Getting better." He responds, flapping
his hands.

Karen's eyes widened at his 
unexpected use of medical terminology.
"neurodivergence," she thought to herself.
Could it be that her husband had somehow
developed something from the fall? It 
was a long shot, but the lack of 
emotional connection, the repetitive 
behaviors, and the rigidity of his speech 
patterns were all hallmarks of it. She
scans his brain and connected herself
to the monitor. Plankton looks over and
sees the brain scan. "Plankton's brain?"
"Yes, Plankton.." Karen says.

"Cerebellar cortex reduced synapses
and showing minimal activity in the
corpus callosum. Irreversibly reduced
blood flow in between hemispheric..."

"I've no idea what you're saying, honey."
Karen interrupts.

Plankton's face falls, his usual 
playfulness replaced by a look of 
confusion. "Neurotypical communication
error," he says, his voice laced with 
frustration. "Karen, Plankton trying to say
the fall caused disruption to myelination.."

Karen's eyes widen in shocked confusion.
"Myelination? Plankton, are you okay?"
she asks, her voice laced with fear.

Plankton nods, his gaze fixed 
on the brain scan. "Neuroplasticity.
Synaptic pruning. Autism acquisition," he says, 
his words coming out in a rush.

Karen's mind reels at his 
diagnosis. Autism? It couldn't be.
But as she looks at his rigid 
body language and his lack of 
emotional expression, she can't 
deny it.

new karen has a lesson Karen x Plankton Karen & Sheldon J. Plankton plaren 2

𝟏𝟐𝟑𝟒𝟓𝟔𝟕𝟖𝟗
①②③④⑤⑥⑦⑧⑨
１２３４５６７８９
𝟙𝟚𝟛𝟜𝟝𝟞𝟟𝟠𝟡
➊➋➌➍➎➏➐➑➒
¹²³⁴⁵⁶⁷⁸⁹
₁₂₃₄₅₆₇₈₉
1̶2̶3̶4̶5̶6̶7̶8̶9̶
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『1』『2』『3』『4』『5』『6』『7』『8』『9』

new numbers aesthetic number 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 one two three four five six seven eight nine

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new 2 roman numerals 1 girl kissing to boy dot art text art ascii art

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new one 1 natural number

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(˚ˎ 。7  
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じしˍ,)ノ

new 1

A TOOTHY STORY pt. 1

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ & ꜱᴜʀɢᴇʀʏ

"But, why? Karen they're
not even hurting or
growing in, yet!" "It's
preventative, Sheldon;
the x-ray showed potential
crowding." Karen responds
to her husband, Plankton.
It's the night before his
wisdom teeth extraction,
and she knew he's nervous.

Sheldon Plankton sighs,
running his tongue over his
back molars, feeling the
gums where the wisdom 
teeth lurk beneath the
surface. But it does little 
to distract from the looming 
dental appointment tomorrow
morning.

He looks at his wife, Karen,
whose screen filled with
understanding. She's always
been the level-headed one,
calming him during their
most turbulent times.

"Don't worry, sweetheart,"
Karen says, stroking his
forehead gently, "You'll be
under anesthesia. You won't
feel a thing. It'll be like
a little nap, and when you
wake up, it'll all be over."

They go to bed, as they'll
have to get up early.
Plankton's always been a
light sleeper, usually the
last to fall asleep and/or
first to wake.

The anticipation of the
morning's dental procedure
keeps him tossing and
turning. The digital clock
on the nightstand clicks over
to 2 AM, its red digits
glowing like an accusation.
Karen has to take him in
three hours...

Karen's awake at 4:45.
Plankton lay beside her
snoring gently. She gently 
shakes him. "Plankton," she 
whispers, "it's time to get up."

He stirs, groaning softly,
eye fluttering open to the
dim room. "Ugh.."

Karen smiles softly, "Come
on, honey, we've got to get
going. The sooner we're there,
the sooner it's over."

With a heavy sigh, Plankton
gets up.

The drive to the dentist's
office is tense and quiet.
The soft hum of the car's
engine and the occasional
streetlight flickering outside
are the only sounds that
accompany them through the
desolate early morning streets.

They arrive at the clinic,
a modern building with sleek
glass walls that reflect the
pre-dawn light. Plankton's heart
thumps in his chest as he
follows Karen inside.

The receptionist, a cheery
woman named Becky, greets them
with a smile that seems almost
painfully bright at this hour.
"Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Plankton!"
she chirps. Plankton nods, trying
to match her energy, but his nerves
betray him. "You're here for your
wisdom teeth, right?" Becky asks,
typing away on her keyboard.
Plankton nods again, feeling a
wave of anxiety wash over him.
He's never been a fan of
the dentist, but this was a whole
new level of dental dread.

Karen notices this and
squeezes his hand reassuringly.
"Don't worry," Becky says,
noticing his distress, "Dr. Marlin is
the best. And our anesthesia
is top-notch. You won't feel a thing."
Plankton tries to smile, but it
comes out more as a grimace. "You'll be
so relaxed you won't even know
what's happening. It's like a
dreamless sleep. You'll wake up with
four less teeth and a much more
comfortable mouth!"
She leads them through the
hallway, the smell of antiseptic
strengthening with each step.
The walls are adorned with
soothing seascape paintings, an
obvious attempt to put patients
at ease. Plankton's heart rate
doesn't decrease, but he
appreciates the effort. They enter
the surgery room. The chair is 
more like a recliner. Dr. Marlin,
a friendly-looking octopus, enters
the room, his tentacles 
holding a clipboard.
"Good morning," he says in
a soothing tone. "Ready to get those
wisdom teeth out?"

Karen kisses him on the forehead
and whispers, "You got this."
Plankton nods, trying to convince
himself. The doctor explains
the procedure one last time,
his tentacles gesturing to the
various tools laid out on the tray.
The nurse, a clownfish named
Nina, starts to prep him, placing
a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"We're going to give you something
to bite down on to keep your
mouth open," Nina says, holding
up a plastic mouth prop. It looks
like a small version of an L-shaped
building block.

Plankton nods again.
The chair reclines back and the
overhead light shines down, casting
harsh shadows on the ceiling tiles.
Karen squeezes his hand once more
before stepping aside as Dr. Marlin
and Nina get to work. 
The anesthesia is administered,
and the room starts to blur.
Plankton feels his body go
slack, the fear giving way
to a sudden calm. He hears
Karen's voice, faintly, saying,
"See you..."
And then, darkness.

Karen feels his hand go limp in 
hers as the anesthesia takes hold. 
She watches as Dr. Marlin's 
tentacles swirl around Plankton's 
open mouth. The nurse, Nina, holds 
a small syringe filled with a clear 
liquid, which she carefully administers 
into his gums. Plankton's body relaxes 
further, and he starts to snore as they
prod his numb gums, all while he's
remaining asleep.

The surgery goes by in a blur 
for Karen, who sits in the chair 
next to him, holding his hand. She 
can hear the sounds of the 
extraction tools, but she focuses on 
his peaceful breathing and the 
steady beep of the heart rate monitor.
The room is cool, the sterile 
smell of the surgery room 
comforting in its own way.

As the extraction begins, Plankton
doesn't stir. The doctor's tentacles
move with practiced precision, 
each tug and pull a dance of surgical
skill. Nina stands by, her eyes 
focused on the monitors, ensuring
his vital signs remain stable.

The first tooth is out. Karen can't
help but look away at the sound
of bone cracking, despite the doctor's
assurance that Plankton can't feel it.
Her eyes water, but she quickly
wipes the tears away, not wanting
to alarm the already unconscious
Plankton. She glances at the clock.
Only twenty minutes have passed.

Dr. Marlin strokes Plankton's
antennae. Nina nods along,
her attention mostly on Plankton.

The second tooth is extracted with
slightly more resistance. The doctor's
tentacles tug gently, applying the
right amount of pressure. Karen squeezes
his hand.

"It's okay," she whispers,
though she's not sure if he can hear.
The third tooth is the most stubborn,
requiring the use of a pair of forceps
that make a sound like a tiny
car wreck. Plankton's body jerks
slightly but he remains unconscious.

The doctor and nurse work in
harmony, their movements so swift
and coordinated that they almost seem
like a dance. The fourth tooth is
the quickest to come out, as if it
knew it was the last stand and gave
up without a fight.

Dr. Marlin nods to Nina, who
begins to suture Plankton's gums.
The needle pierces through the
swollen flesh with a sound that
makes Karen cringe, but Plankton
doesn't react at all. She watches as
Nina's nimble fins guide the thread
with the care of a master embroiderer,
stitching the flaps of gum back together.

Plankton's snoring remains steady
as they suture his numb gums.
Nina's fin deftly weaves the thread,
each stitch a silent promise
of a pain-free future. The tension
in the room slowly dissolves with
each completed suture. They use
dissolvable stitches, so they use
more anesthesia to numb the
inside of the gums before stitching
them up completely.

Dr. Marlin steps back, wiping
his tentacles with a towel.
"All done," he says with a smile.

The doctor rinses
Plankton's numb mouth 
with saline of any
excess blood or 
debris, and Karen 
notices the 
transformation: 
his tense jaw relaxes,
his breathing deepens, 
and his usually 
active antennae are 
still, as if he's sunk into
the deepest of slumbers.

new as toothy story karen plankton sheldon plankton 1

KAREN HAS A LESSON pt. 1
(Autistic author)

"You never listen to me!" Karen 
exclaimed, her voice echoing 
through the small lab.

Her husband, Plankton, looked 
up from his invention, a frown 
furrowing his brow. "What's 
wrong now?" he asked.

"It's the same thing, every 
single day," Karen said, crossing 
her arms. "You're always so 
focused on your work, you forget 
what's important."

Plankton sighed, setting down 
his wrench. "And what's that?"

Karen's eyes flashed with frustration. 
"Our anniversary dinner, for one," 
she said. "You promised we'd go out 
tonight, remember?"

Plankton's frown deepened as he 
tried to recall the conversation. 
"The dinner...right. I thought it was 
next week," he mumbled, his gaze 
darts back to his invention.

"No, it's tonight!" Karen's voice 
was now a mix of annoyance and 
desperation. "I've had this all 
planned out for weeks, and you've 
barely even acknowledged it."

Plankton looked at her, his eye
suddenly wide with realization. 
"Tonight? But I've got the final 
adjustments. It's a breakthrough, 
Karen!"

Karen threw her hands in 
exasperation. "It's always a 
breakthrough, isn't it? When are 
you going to realize that we need 
to make time for us?"

Plankton took a step. "You 
know how important this is to me, 
to us," he said, his voice 
softening. "Once I get this right, 
we can finally be happy, have the 
life we deserve when I..."

"When you what?" Karen interrupted. 
"When you finally steal the Krabby Patty 
formula?" she finished for him, her 
tone heavy with sarcasm. "Is that what you 
think will fix everything?"

Plankton's shoulders slumped. He knew 
his obsession with Mr. Krabs' secret 
formula was a sore spot for Karen, but 
he couldn't help the hope that burned 
inside him. "It's not just about that," 
he said, trying to explain. "It's about 
proving to everyone, including myself, 
that I can do something big." He gets
up on the shelf. Karen turns away.

Karen's frustration boiled over, her 
face flushing. "You're so caught up 
in this ridiculous vendetta that you 
don't even see what you're doing to us!" 
she yelled, slamming her hand down 
on the lab table. The sudden noise 
startled Plankton enough to wobble 
on his precarious perch, and with a 
tiny squeak of terror, he lost his balance 
and toppled over.

His invention fell with him, colliding with 
his head with an ominous clank. Karen 
turns around, her anger replaced with 
concern in an instant. "Plankton, are you ok?"
He lay still. Karen 
rushed over. He was unconscious.

Karen knelt beside 
his tiny body. "Plankton," she whispered, 
shaking him gently. Panic began to 
set in as he didn't stir. The weight of 
her actions crashed down on her. She 
hadn't meant for it to go this far.
"Plankton, talk to me," she begged.

With trembling fingers, she 
checked for a pulse. It was faint but 
there, and she felt a small wave of 
relief. But he was still out cold.

Her mind raced as she tried to think 
what to do next. Calling for help 
was out of the question; their rivalry 
with Mr. Krabs meant they couldn't 
afford any more attention from the 
authorities. She knew they gotta
wait it out.

Gently, she picked him up. He 
was surprisingly heavy for his size. 
Carefully, she cradled him in her arms 
and laid him down on the couch.

The room was eerily silent except for 
the faint ticking of the clock on the 
wall. Karen sat beside 
his unconscious form, her eyes 
brimming with worry. The fight they'd 
just had seemed trivial now.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, stroking 
his antennae gently. "You're right, I 
know how much this means to you. 
But I just want you to know that no 
matter what, I'm here for you."

Her voice was barely above a 
whisper as she talked to him, as if 
fearful that speaking too loudly would 
shatter the fragile peace that had 
settled over the room. "You don't 
have to prove anything to me, or to 
anyone else. I'm proud of you just 
the way you are."

Karen's eyes searched Plankton's 
face for any sign of movement, but 
his features remained slack, his eye
closed. She leaned in closer. 
"You're a brilliant inventor," she 
continued. "But you're also a husband, 
and I need you to remember that."

Her voice was filled with a 
mixture of love and desperation. 
"I know you can't hear me right 
now, but I need you to know," she 
continued, her voice shaking slightly. 
"I know you're tired of
always being second best. But to me, 
you're not just Plankton, you're the 
man I chose to spend the rest of 
my life with."

Karen took a deep breath, her 
hands shaking as she held onto 
his limp form. "We've been through 
so much together, and I know you 
think the Krabby Patty is the key 
to our happiness, but it's not. It's 
you. It's us."

Her voice grew stronger, fueled by 
the passion of her words. "We can 
have a great life without that 
formula. We can build something 
new, something just for us."

Plankton's chest began to rise and fall more evenly, 
his breathing steady. Karen watched him, hope 
growing in her heart. Maybe he could hear her 
after all. "When you wake up, let's talk. Let's put 
this behind us and make a promise to each 
other to make our marriage a priority," she 
pleaded, her eyes never leaving his face.

The minutes dragged by, each one heavier 
than the last. The silence in the lab was 
a stark contrast to the usual cacophony of 
whirring machines and Plankton's excited 
exclamations. Karen's mind raced with 
thoughts of all the times they'd shared, 
laughing and planning together, and 
she couldn't help but reflect on their 
relationship. The countless nights 
spent in the lab, the stolen glances 
of affection, and the shared dream of 
a better future. It all flashed before 
her eyes, and she realized just how 
much Plankton meant to her.

With her heart pounding in her chest, 
she leaned closer to his unconscious 
form, her voice trembling. "Plankton, 
please wake up," she whispered. "I need 
you to hear me. Our love is our greatest 
invention, not some secret recipe. I know I've 
been pushing you, but it's because I 
see how much this obsession consumes 
you." She took a deep breath, her voice 
steadying. "But if you can't let go of this 
dream, I'll support you. I'll always 
be here, by your side, no matter what."

After a long silence, Plankton groaned. 
Karen gasped, her eyes filling with 
relief as she saw the spark of 
consciousness as he opens his eye. 
He groaned softly, his hand coming 
up to rub his head.

"Where?" he mumbled, his voice 
slurred with confusion. Karen took 
his hand, her voice gentle. "You're on 
the couch, Plankton. You fell."

new karen has a lesson Karen x Plankton Karen & Sheldon J. Plankton plaren 1

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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠡⠤⠤⢄⡀⠉⠉⡿⣷⣆⠀⠀⡇⠈⣿⡇⢈⣛⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣠⣶⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣠⣷⡎⢿⣄⣴⣧⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣎⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢩⣯⣝⢿⣿⣶⣤⣤⣴⣿⣥⣼⠟⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⠁⢤⡈⣿⠈⠛⢿⣿⣿⡷⠿⠻⣿⣿⣿⡟⠁⣼⡏⠙⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢾⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠐⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣄⣶⣷⢻⡀⠀⠸⡆⢹⡇⠀⠈⠙⠛⠋⠃⣨⡿⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⢨⣿⡿⠋⢀⣼⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣿⠃⢸⣇⠀⠀⠻⣾⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣴⡿⠁⠀⠀⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣬⣁⣤⣴⣞⡽⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⡟⢷⣼⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⠓⠛⢛⢛⣭⠄⠀⠀⠀⡀⢹⣿⣿⣧⣤⡈⢻⣿⣿⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⡶⣽⣿⡾⠂⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⡿⠳⣤⣤⣤⣤⣽⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣄⣯⢿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠷⢿⣷⠀⠀⠿⠂⠀⠀⢸⣿⣠⣴⣿⣿⣦⣿⣿⣿⣟⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿⣟⣼⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⡇⠰⢲⠄⣦⣤⢲⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣷⡀⣼⠀⢸⢡⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢹⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⡏⢷⣼⡄⠈⢸⣿⣿⣿⠋⠀⠀⣀⣤⣤⣤⣤⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣀⢀⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⡇⠈⠻⣿⡀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⣿⣿⡟⠀⠃⠈⠁
⢀⣀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⡀⠀⢠⣍⣉⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠀⠀⠈⠻⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⠋⠉⣉⡉⠉⠉⠉⣉⡩⠯⠉⠁⣄⣤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⣁⣠⣄⣠⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣶⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠸⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢸⣿⣤⣴⣶⣄⡉⢿⠶⠁⣠⣶⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠
⣬⣿⣏⣹⣿⣭⣤⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠈⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠁⢹⣿⣿⣿⣼⣿⣯⠉⠉⠀⣠⣴⣷⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⠀⢀⣉⢀⡀⠛
⣁⣀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢀⣾⣿⣿⣿⠙⣿⣿⣷⣤⣾⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⢀⡀⠈⠛⠛
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠛⠁⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣤⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢙⡿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣜⣿⣦⡀⠀
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣄⣸⣿⣿⡿⠀⣾⣿⣿⡏⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⢼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣯⡔⣽⣟⠿⣿⣿⣛⢷⡄
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣉⠉⠉⢉⣛⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣛⠛⠀
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢇⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣿⡿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿

new i t y u o p a s d f g h j k l z x c v b n m 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 meth letter english language roman alphabet latin alphabet vowel w not my turkish alphabet him me you myself e phoenician alphabet alphabet one

TEAM 1️⃣

new team 1

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣤⣤⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣤⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣾⣿⠿⠛⠋⠉⠀⣼⣯⠀⠉⠙⠛⠿⣿⣶⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⠟⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠿⠫⣤⡀⠂⠂⠀
⠀⠀⣠⣾⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢺⣷⡄⠀⠀
⠀⣰⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⢆⠀
⢠⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣏⠀⠁⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⢻⣿⡄
⣾⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣧
⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿
⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿
⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⡟⠻⠿⣿⣿⡗⣿⣷⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡟
⠸⣿⣆⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⡿⠟⠋⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠃⠻⢿⣾⣿⣦⡀⠀⣰⣿⠃
⠀⢻⣿⣶⠿⠛⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠛⠿⣶⣾⠏⠀
⠀⠀⠹⣿⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⠏⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣷⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣰⣿⡿⠁⢀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠻⣿⣶⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣤⣶⣿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⠻⡿⢿⣿⣶⣶⣿⡿⠿⠟⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

new murder on the orient express agatha christie 1 dot art text art ascii art

ᴾʳᵉˢ ˢᵖᵉᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ¹²³m ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠀⠀⣀⠤⣤⣤⣠⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠤⢢⣒⣃⡃⠓⢢⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡰⠒⡄⠀⡜⣠⠏⠁⠀⠀⠉⠙⠓⠦⣄⢀⣠⣴⠯⠚⠋⠉⠈⠈⢹⡆⠀⢣⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠒⠁⣰⢡⢯⢀⢀⢀⢀⣀⠤⠔⢔⣼⣿⡯⣄⡀⡀⠀⢀⢀⠔⢩⠇⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠈⢧⣅⣁⣁⣁⡤⠦⣚⡽⢻⢽⡣⡙⠮⣬⣩⣁⣁⡤⠟⡀⡔⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠓⣄⣀⡁⣁⢁⡴⢼⠃⢠⠟⠀⣧⠙⢤⠀⠀⠉⠉⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢷⠀⠀⡀⡔⠊⢁⠔⢡⠼⠋⠀⠀⠘⢧⡀⠱⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢢⡔⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⠒⠁⣀⠖⢁⡼⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠳⣄⠱⡙⢤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠁⠘⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠜⠀⢠⠊⠀⣠⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣦⠱⡀⠳⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡜⠀⠀⡇⠀⣰⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣇⢱⠀⢣⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⡇⢠⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡿⠀⡇⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡄⠀⠀⠘⣄⠀⠱⣏⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡟⠀⢱⠀⡣⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠒⡵⣊⠀⠀⠈⠑⣺⢅⡉⠦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⠂⠀⢸⠀⡎⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠊⢱⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⡯⠀⠉⢢⡉⢦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⠃⠀⠀⡰⡕⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⡀⠀⠀⢱⠈⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠏⠀⢀⢴⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢧⡀⠀⡸⢐⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡾⠁⡠⢪⠊⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡄⠀⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠄⠀⠈⢧⡰⢁⠎⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣅⠎⢠⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠞⣧⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⡃⢠⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢔⡥⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⢃⠜⢹⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⠹⣆⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⢚⠕⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡜⣠⠃⠀⢸⠅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠽⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢐⠅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⢠⠃⠀⠀⣼⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⢣⡙⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠰⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⡆⢸⠀⣠⠜⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢣⠀⠀⢣⠈⢳⡄⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡀⠀⠀⢣⠸⡴⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢢⡀⢇⠀⠹⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⡅⣈⠇⠀⠀⡿⡙⢄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣄⠀⠈⠳⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⢼⠁⠙⢌⠣⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⡱⣀⠀⠙⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡏⠀⠀⠀⠑⣄⠓⢤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠱⡘⡄⠀⢸⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠢⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⢸⠀⡼⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠇⠀⢱⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠀⠀⣀⠤⣤⣤⣠⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠤⢢⣒⣃⡃⠓⢢⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡰⠒⡄⠀⡜⣠⠏⠁⠀⠀⠉⠙⠓⠦⣄⢀⣠⣴⠯⠚⠋⠉⠈⠈⢹⡆⠀⢣⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠒⠁⣰⢡⢯⢀⢀⢀⢀⣀⠤⠔⢔⣼⣿⡯⣄⡀⡀⠀⢀⢀⠔⢩⠇⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠈⢧⣅⣁⣁⣁⡤⠦⣚⡽⢻⢽⡣⡙⠮⣬⣩⣁⣁⡤⠟⡀⡔⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠓⣄⣀⡁⣁⢁⡴⢼⠃⢠⠟⠀⣧⠙⢤⠀⠀⠉⠉⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢷⠀⠀⡀⡔⠊⢁⠔⢡⠼⠋⠀⠀⠘⢧⡀⠱⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢢⡔⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⠒⠁⣀⠖⢁⡼⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠳⣄⠱⡙⢤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠁⠘⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠜⠀⢠⠊⠀⣠⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣦⠱⡀⠳⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡜⠀⠀⡇⠀⣰⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣇⢱⠀⢣⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⡇⢠⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡿⠀⡇⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡄⠀⠀⠘⣄⠀⠱⣏⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡟⠀⢱⠀⡣⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠒⡵⣊⠀⠀⠈⠑⣺⢅⡉⠦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⠂⠀⢸⠀⡎⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠊⢱⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⡯⠀⠉⢢⡉⢦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⠃⠀⠀⡰⡕⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⡀⠀⠀⢱⠈⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠏⠀⢀⢴⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢧⡀⠀⡸⢐⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡾⠁⡠⢪⠊⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡄⠀⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠄⠀⠈⢧⡰⢁⠎⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣅⠎⢠⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠞⣧⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⡃⢠⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢔⡥⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⢃⠜⢹⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⠹⣆⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⢚⠕⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡜⣠⠃⠀⢸⠅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠽⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢐⠅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⢠⠃⠀⠀⣼⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⢣⡙⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠰⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⡆⢸⠀⣠⠜⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢣⠀⠀⢣⠈⢳⡄⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡀⠀⠀⢣⠸⡴⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢢⡀⢇⠀⠹⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⡅⣈⠇⠀⠀⡿⡙⢄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣄⠀⠈⠳⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⢼⠁⠙⢌⠣⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⡱⣀⠀⠙⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡏⠀⠀⠀⠑⣄⠓⢤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠱⡘⡄⠀⢸⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠢⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⢸⠀⡼⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠇⠀⢱⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

Warning: This item may contain sensitive themes such as nudity.

COPEPOD AUTISM pt. 2


(Neurodivergent author)



By evening, Karen has set
up a makeshift kitchen area
in the living room, with all
the ingredients for spaghetti
arranged neatly on the coffee
table. Plankton sits cross-legged
on the floor, his eye never
leaving the recipe book.

He reads each step aloud, his voice
growing stronger with
confidence. Karen chops
vegetables nearby, noticing
the subtle changes in his
movements, the way he tilts
his head when he's concentrating.

The smell of garlic and onions
sizzling in olive oil fills the
room. Plankton stirs the
pot, his face scrunching up
slightly at the aroma, a sign
his sensory sensitivity has
heightened. She sees him rub
his hands together, a self-stimulatory
behavior, but she knows
it's his way of grounding
himself amidst the chaos.

They move around the makeshift
kitchen, a silent dance of
understanding and support.
Karen boils the water for the
spaghetti while Plankton
continues to sauté the veggies.
Each action is deliberate,
each step measured as they
navigate their new reality.

The water reaches a rolling
boil, and Plankton carefully
drops in the spaghetti strands,
his gaze transfixed by the
swirling water. Karen watches
his concentration and sees
the childlike wonder in his eye.

"How long?" he asks.
"Five minutes," Karen says, her
voice calm. She's read that clear
and concise instructions
can be helpful.

After five minutes, Plankton
quickly drains the spaghetti, his
movements precise and methodical.
He pours the sauce over the noodles
and mixes them gently, his focus
intense. Karen watches him,
a mix of admiration and concern.

"It's done," he announces, his
voice a mix of excitement and
apprehension. She brings over
two plates, setting them on the
coffee table. They sit across
from each other, the steaming
spaghetti a bridge between
them. Plankton's hand hovers
over his plate, unsure of how to
proceed with the new sensory
experience.

"Let's eat," Karen says with a
smile, picking up her fork and
twirling the noodles expertly.
The sound of her silverware
against the plate makes him flinch,
but he mimics her movements.

They eat in silence, the clinking
of forks and spoons the only
sounds in the room. Plankton
chews slowly, savoring each bite,
his face a canvas of emotions.
Karen watches him, her own
fork poised in midair.

As they finish dinner, Plankton
sets his plate aside and looks
at her, his expression earnest.
"Thank you, Karen," he says, his
voice clear. "For being here Karen."

Her eyes brim with tears,
but she blinks them back. "Always,
Plankton. I'll always be here. Now
it's getting late; let's go to bed.."

In bed, she reads to him,
his favorite childhood story,
the words acting as a lullaby.
Plankton's hand rests on her arm,
his thumb rubbing circles in a
self-soothing gesture. His breathing
steadies, matching the rhythm
of her voice.

The book's final page is turned,
and she switches off the lamp,
plunging the room into darkness.
The silence is filled with the
comforting hum of the fan above.

Karen lies beside Plankton,
his body rigid with tension.
Her arm wraps around him,
pulling him closer, and she feels
his muscles slowly relax.

"Goodnight, Plankton," she whispers,
kissing his forehead. He doesn't
respond, lost in his thoughts.
But she knows he heard her.
Karen notices the tension in his body 
and gently runs her fingers through 
his antennae, a silent offer of comfort. 
Eventually, his breathing evens out, 
and he falls asleep, his body curled 
into hers like a child seeking shelter.

The next morning, the sun streams 
through the blinds, casting stripes
across the bed. Karen, already awake, 
watches him, her hand still entwined with his.
He's still asleep, his body relaxed, the 
lines of worry from the day before 
smoothed out by the embrace of slumber.

Carefully, she slides out of bed,
not wanting to disturb him. She sees
him stir in his sleep, his antennae
twitching slightly, but he remains
unaware of her departure.

In the kitchen, Karen starts
the coffee, the scent filling
the room with a comforting
aroma. She opens the fridge,
finding the ingredients for
the morning routine. Plankton's
usual breakfast is a simple one:
toast with jam and a banana.

The toaster pops, and she
spreads the jam with a gentle
smoothness that Plankton likes.
The banana peels easily, revealing
the perfect yellow fruit inside.
Her mind races with thoughts
of how she'll need to learn
his new sensitivities, his likes
and dislikes, his triggers. But for
now, she focuses on the task
at hand, placing the slices
of bread in the toaster. 

When the toast is just right,
she carries the breakfast tray
to the bedroom, her steps
soft against the cold floor.
Plankton's still asleep, his
snores punctuating the quiet
morning. Karen sets the tray
on the bedside table.

She watches him, unsure
how to wake him without
causing distress. She's read
about sensory sensitivity
and knows that sudden noise
can be jarring for someone
with Autism. She gently strokes
his antennae, her touch
featherlight, and whispers his
name, "Plankton, wake up."

He stirs, his antennae twitching,
but his eye remains closed.
Karen tries again, a little
louder this time, "Wake up,
sweetie. Breakfast is ready."

Plankton's hand shoots up
to cover his eye, a reflexive
reaction to the light. His
body tenses, then relaxes as
his mind adjusts to the new
day. He sits up slowly.

"Thank you, Karen," he mumbles,
his voice still thick with sleep.
He takes in the breakfast
spread before him, his antennae
twitching with anticipation. He picks
up the toast, feeling the warmth 
in his hands, the stickiness
of the jam a familiar comfort.

Karen watches him closely, noticing
the way his eye widens slightly
at the first bite, the way his tongue
flicks out to taste the banana.
It's as if every sensation is
amplified, a symphony of flavors
and textures that she can't begin
to understand. She sips her coffee,
silent, giving him space.

As he eats, Plankton starts to hum again,
his body rocking slightly. It's a low,
comforting sound that fills the room.
Karen feels the tension in her
shoulders ease. This is their new
normal, a dance of care and
understanding. 

new copepod autism plaren neurodivergentcore neurodisability 2

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

new karendy karandyn plankdy plankdyren plangebob plarenbob sandarenton cold as ice

🙅🙅⬜🙅🪚🖕🏼🇳🇱🗡️🗡️🪚⬜⬜🇳🇱🇳🇱⬜
⬜🙅🙅🪚🗡️🇳🇱🇳🇱🖕🏼🖕🏼🗡️🖕🏼🇳🇱🪚⬜🪚
🙅🙅🪚🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🪚🗡️🖕🏼🙅🖕🏼🗡️🗡️🖕🏼
🙅🙅🗡️⬜🇳🇱⬜🪚🪚🗡️🙅⬜🗡️🗡️🙅🙅
⬜🗡️🗡️🗡️🪚🖕🏼🗡️🖕🏼🇳🇱🪚🙅🙅🖕🏼⬜🪚
🙅⬜🇳🇱🖕🏼🖕🏼🗡️🗡️⬜🖕🏼⬜🪚🗡️🙅🗡️🖕🏼
⬜🗡️⬜⬜🗡️🖕🏼⬜⬜🗡️⬜🙅🙅🗡️🗡️🙅
🗡️🗡️🪚🪚🗡️🪚🇳🇱🪚🙅🪚🙅🪚⬜🇳🇱🙅
🗡️🪚⬜🗡️🗡️🇳🇱🖕🏼🖕🏼🗡️🖕🏼🪚🗡️🖕🏼🖕🏼🗡️
🖕🏼🪚🗡️🙅🪚🗡️🖕🏼🪚🇳🇱🙅🗡️🙅⬛🖕🏼⬜
🪚🪚🪚🗡️⬜🪚⬜🗡️🙅🙅🪚🖕🏼🙅⬜🖕🏼
🙅🪚⬜🗡️🪚🪚🖕🏼⬜🗡️🪚🙅🗡️🙅🇳🇱⬜
⬜🗡️🗡️🙅🪚🪚🗡️⬜🗡️🗡️🙅🖕🏼🗡️⬜⬜
⬜⬜⬜🖕🏼🙅🗡️🪚🙅🇳🇱🙅🖕🏼🙅⬜⬜⬜
⬜⬜🙅⬜🗡️🇳🇱🇳🇱🗡️🖕🏼🖕🏼⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜

new 1 6 common year starting on saturday one january nederland

guy stop fucking saying this web needs to be a fucking app like what the fuck there lots of fucking beef like do you guys have brain cells of a dick shit like get a life if you care about fucking 8 year olds then dont make this a fucking app if you fucking do more little kids will get draked like what the skidi bro get a fucking bro°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

https://bluezey.tumblr.com/post/179996126450/reason-one-why-we-should-humanize-girls-night-out#notes
https://www.tumblr.com/jopajopovna1/635538087895842816/reason-one-why-we-should-humanize-girls-night-out
https://www.tumblr.com/asoingbop/648843739321761792/reason-one-why-we-should-humanize-girls-night-out
https://www.tumblr.com/dreamystarcroc/650933638683344896/reason-one-why-we-should-humanize-girls-night-out

new friendscore karendy karandy plankaren plankkaren plankdy gal pals

ᔆᑫᵘⁱʳʳᵉˡˢ ᴺⁱᵍʰᵗ ᴼᵘᵗ
"ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ⸴ ᵃʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵘʳᵉ?" ᴾᵉᵃʳˡ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ‧ ᴵ'ᵐ ˢʰᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵃˡ ᵖᵃˡˢ
ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᵒˡᵈ ᵀᵉˣᵃˢ ᶠᵘⁿ ᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ‧ ᴾᵉᵃʳˡˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵏᵉᵉⁿ ᵒⁿ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ
ᵗʰᵉ ᶠʳᵒᵍ ˡᵉᵍˢ‧ ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵈⁱⁿⁿᵉʳ⸴ ᴾᵘᶠᶠ ˢᵘᵍᵍᵉˢᵗᵉᵈ ʷᵉ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵃ ᵈʳⁱᵛᵉ
ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘⁿᵗʳʸˢⁱᵈᵉ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʳᵉˢᵉᵃʳᶜʰᵉᵈ ʰᵒʷ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱʳᵉʷᵒʳᵏˢ ʷʰᵉⁿ ⁱⁿ
ᵒᵖᵉⁿ ᶠⁱᵉˡᵈ‧ ᶠᵃⁿᵗᵃˢᵗⁱᶜ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ! ᴮᵘᵗ ⁱᵗ ᵍᵒᵗ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᴾᵉᵃʳˡˢ 
ᵖʰᵒⁿᵉ ʳⁱⁿᵍⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᵃˢ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᶜᵃˡˡˢ‧ "ᴾᵉᵃʳˡ⸴ ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʸᵉ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᵍⁱʳˡ
ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵘᵗ ʷʰᵃᵗ ⁱⁿ ᴺᵉᵖᵗᵘⁿᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ʸᵉ ˢᵗᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒ ˡᵃᵗᵉ?" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ
ⁱˢ ᵃ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᵈᵃᵈ ˡᵒᵒᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵘᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱˢ ᵈᵃᵘᵍʰᵗᵉʳ⸴ ᵐᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵘʳᵉ ˢʰᵉ'ˢ
ᵍᵒᵒᵈ‧ ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ⸴ ʷᵉ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰᵉᵃᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ⸴ ᴾᵉᵃʳˡ⸴
ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᶠʳᵉᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵒᵖ ᵇʸ ᵐʸ ᵇᵒᵃᵗⁱⁿᵍ ˢᶜʰᵒᵒˡ ᶠᵒʳ ᵈʳⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵉˢˢⁱᵒⁿˢ!"
ᴾᵘᶠᶠ ᵒᶠᶠᵉʳᵉᵈ⸴ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ʷᵃᵛᵉˢ ᵍᵒᵒᵈᵇʸᵉ‧ "ᴵ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ
ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵘⁿᵒᶠᶠⁱᶜⁱᵃˡˡʸ ᵃ ᶜᵒᵘᵖˡᵉ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ⸴ ᵃˢ ᴾᵘᶠᶠ ᵇˡᵘˢʰᵉˢ‧
"ᴵᵐ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵒᵇˡⁱᵍᵉᵈ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁱᵗˢ ˡᵃᵗᵉ‧ ᵂᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ˢᵖⁱˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵉᵃ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵍⁱʳˡ 
ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧ ᴬᵈⁱᵒˢ‧‧‧" ᴵ ˢᵃⁱᵈ⸴ ᵃˢ ʷᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵒᵘʳ ˢᵉᵖᵃʳᵃᵗᵉ ʷᵃʸˢ‧ @ALYJACI

new kruff sandearl karendy karandy texascore squirrels night out

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ/̵͇̿̿/’̿’̿ ̿ ̿̿ ̿̿ ̿̿💋💋💋

new syey syg muah 1 000 i love you 1000%

ᵀʰᵉ ᴬᶜᶜⁱᵈᵉⁿᵗ
⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ pt. 3
ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵖᵒⁱⁿᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ
ᴸᵃʳʳʸ ᵈⁱᵛᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ ˢᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ
ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ˡᵒˢᵗ ᵃᵗ ˢᵉᵃ‧
ᴴᵒʷᵉᵛᵉʳ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ʳᵉˢᵖᵒⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵃⁿʸ
ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ‧ "ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ᵈᵒⁿᵉ ᵃˡˡ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ‧‧‧" ᴸᵃʳʳʸ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧
"ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʰⁱˢ ʷⁱᶠᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵘᵐᵇᵉʳ‧‧‧
ᴵ'ˡˡ ᶜᵃˡˡ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ!" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵃⁱᵈ
ᵏⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ˢʰᵉ ʰᵃᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵒʷˡᵉᵈᵍᵉ
ᵗᵒ ᵖᵒˢˢⁱᵇˡʸ ʰᵉˡᵖ‧ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ
ᵃⁿᵈ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃʸ‧
ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᶜᵃⁿⁿᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃⁿʸ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳⁿᵃˡ
ᵈᵃᵐᵃᵍᵉ ᵃˢ ˢᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵛⁱᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ‧
"ᴵ ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵉᵍ ʰⁱᵗ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿˢᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᶜᵏ
ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ᶠᵒʳᶜᵉ ᵗᵒ ᶠʳᵃᶜᵗᵘʳᵉ‧‧‧
ᴳᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵃⁿᵈᵃᵍᵉˢ⸴ ᵗʰᵉʸ ˡᵉᵗ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ
ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ᵐᵒᵐᵉⁿᵗ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱᵐ
ʲᵘˢᵗ ⁱⁿ ᶜᵃˢᵉ‧‧‧ to be cont. Pt. 4

new plabscore plankdy karandy karendy the accident

ᵀʰᵉ ᴬᶜᶜⁱᵈᵉⁿᵗ
⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ pt. 4
ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ⁿᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍⁿᵉˢˢ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵃˢ ˢʰᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ˢⁱᵍⁿˢ
ᵒᶠ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵛᵉʳʸ‧ ᶠᵉᵉˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵒᵐᵇᵃʳᵈᵉᵈ⸴ ʰᵉ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵒᵛᵉ
ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ ᵒᵛᵉʳʷʰᵉˡᵐᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴴⁱ‧‧‧" ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧
"ᵂʰᵒ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵉᵃˢʸ⸴ ᵖᵃˡ!"
ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵈᵉ ʰⁱˢ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ
ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʰᵃᵈ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ˢᵉᵉ‧
"ᴴᵒʷ'ˢ⸴ ʰᵒʷ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵐᵒˡᵈ ᵐᵉ ˢʰᵉˡˡ
ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ ᶠᵒʳ‧‧‧" "ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ˡᵉᵗ'ˢ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ
ʰⁱᵐ ʳᵉˢᵗ‧ ᴿᵉᵃᵈʸ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ʰᵒᵐᵉ?" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ
ᵒᶠᶠᵉʳᵉᵈ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵃⁿᵈ‧ "ʸᵃ ˡᵘᶜᵏʸ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵃˡⁱᵛᵉ
ᵃˢ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ ᵇᵉ ᵍᵒⁿᵉ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ʸᵃ ᵈⁱᵈ ᶠʳᵃᶜᵗᵘʳᵉ
ˡᵉᵍ‧‧‧" ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵉˣᵖˡᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ‧ ᵂᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵇʸᵉ ᵗᵒ 
ᴸᵃʳʳʸ⸴ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵃˡˡ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ʳᵉˢᵖᵉᶜᵗⁱᵛᵉ 
ʰᵒᵐᵉˢ ʳᵉˢᵖᵉᶜᵗⁱᵛᵉˡʸ‧ to be cont. Pt. 5

new plabscore plankdy karandy karendy the accident

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

new recoverycore recoverypunk spandy karandy karendy karandyn girlsnight senselesscore splankaren

what the fuckkkkkkkkk jose you made a even worse joke like go suck a dick i hope catch on fire and fall in a 10000000ft hole and spalt on the fucking ground and am telling your mom again now you can bye to your fucking life you stupid bitch like fuck you funny fact for dumbass santa not real cause i burned him oo and your gf is breaking up with your fat ass like go walk for once you fat fuck  
      𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
     
      𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
     °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Warning: This item may contain sensitive themes such as nudity.

      ᥫ᭡.
     
     ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖   𐙚   ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖⋆˚࿔ ⋆˚࿔  𝜗𝜚˚⋆ᥫ᭡

new april 2

SPONGEBOB OVERLOAD 2/2
(By NEUROFABULOUS)

Plankton's memory 
was a jumble of images 
and sounds, but he 
recaled the confrontation 
with Mr. Krabs, the 
spatula, and the pain.

He sat up slowly, 
his head spinning. The 
pain was intense, but 
his mind was racing 
even faster.

Plankton looked around 
the room, his eye 
trying to make sense 
of the scene. The Chum 
Bucket was a mess, 
his usual order thrown 
into chaos. Karen's face 
was a blur of concern, 
and Sponge Bob hovered 
close by, his expression 
filled with a mix 
of fear and pity.

Plankton's mind raced, 
his thoughts scattered 
like sand in a storm. He 
felt a deep disconnect 
from the world around 
him, as if he was 
watching a play in 
which he was a reluctant 
participant. His head 
throbbed, but not just 
from the blow. It was 
the pressure of his own 
thoughts, his brain working 
overtime to process 
what had just occurred.

Karen noticed the 
confusion in his 
expression and squeezed 
his hand reassuringly. 
"You had an accident, 
sweetie," she said 
softly. "It's okay. You're 
home now."

Plankton's eye darted 
around the room, 
his mind struggling to 
understand the sudden 
shift in his reality. The 
noise was overwhelming, 
each sound a needle 
pricking his sensitive 
nerves.

"Karen," he said, his 
voice barely a whisper. 
"What's happening?"

Her gaze softened. "You 
got hurt, Plankton," she 
explained gently.

"But the science 
fair," he mumbled, 
his thoughts jumbled.

Karen's expression grew 
even more concerned. 
"The science fair can 
wait, Plankton," she 
soothed.

But Plankton's mind was 
stuck in a loop, 
repeating her words. 
"The science fair can 
wait Plankton," he echoed, his 
voice frail and distant.

Karen's eyes grew 
wet with worry. "Yes, 
dear," she said, stroking 
his arm. "Your wellbeing is 
more important."

Plankton's eye 
narrowed as he 
repeated her words, 
his voice a mix of 
stubbornness and 
determination. "Wellbeing is 
important," he murmured, 
his thoughts racing.

The words echoed 
in his head, a 
maddening loop. "The science 
fair can wait, Plankton," he 
whispered to himself, his voice 
taking on a rhythmic 
pattern. "Can wait, can wait..."

Sponge Bob watched, 
his heart heavy with 
concern. He had 
never seen his friend 
like this, his usual 
confidence and scheming 
reduced to repetitive 
mumbles.

"Plankton," he ventured 
cautiously, placing a 
spongy hand on his 
shoulder.

Plankton's eye snapped 
to his, the loop 
breaking for a brief 
moment. "Sponge Bob," 
he murmured, his voice 
still weak.

Sponge Bob's heart 
leaped with hope. "Yes, 
Plankton, I'm here," 
he said gently.

But Plankton's gaze 
was distant, his 
thoughts clearly elsewhere. 
"Wellbeing is 
important," he murmured 
again, the words 
coming out in a 
staccato rhythm, his 
mind locked in the 
grip of echolalia.

Karen's heart 
clenched with fear. 
This wasn't just 
disorientation from 
his injury. This was 
something more.

"Sponge Bob," she 
whispered urgently. "I think 
he's in shock."

Sponge Bob nodded, 
his face a mask of 
concern. "I'll get 
some water," he said, 
rushing to the sink. He 
filled a glass and 
hurried back, careful 
not to spill a drop.

Plankton's eye 
followed the glass, 
his gaze unfocused. 
He began to rock 
back and forth slightly.

Karen noticed the 
change in his 
behavior, her 
concern deepening. 
"Here, drink some water," 
she urged, offering 
the glass to his 
shaking hand.

Plankton took it 
without a word, his 
motions mechanical. 
He brought the 
glass to his lips, but 
his hand trembled 
so badly that water 
sloshed out, spilling 
down.

The moment the 
cool liquid hit the 
floor, a strange 
look passed over 
his face. It was 
as if he had seen 
a ghost, his single 
eye going wide with 
alarm.

"The water," he 
stammered, his voice 
shaking.

Karen's heart sank 
as she watched her 
husband's distress. "It's 
okay, Plankton," she 
soothed. "It's just 
water..."

But Plankton's eye
were glued to the 
spilled water, his 
entire body trembling. 
"It's... it's not right," 
he muttered, his voice 
filled with a childlike 
fear.

Karen looked 
confused, the spilled 
water seemingly a 
minor issue. “Plank…”

“It’s not right!” 
Plankton’s voice 
was urgent now, 
his trembling hand 
gesturing at the 
spill. His mind was 
a whirlwind of 
disturbing thoughts, 
each more distressing 
than the last.

Sponge Bob and 
Karen exchanged 
worried glances. 
“What do you mean, 
Plankton?” Sponge 
Bob asked, kneeling 
beside the couch, 
his eyes full of 
concern.

Plankton's 
breathing grew rapid, 
his chest heaving. 
"The... the... water," 
he stuttered, pointing 
at the puddle. "It's 
too... too... much!"

Karen's gaze 
flitted to the floor, 
then back to her 
husband. "It's okay," she 
soothed, her voice 
quaking with fear. 
"It's just a little 
spill."

But Plankton's 
agitation only grew. 
He flung the 
glass aside, the 
remaining water 
splattering against 
the wall. "No!" he 
shouted, his voice 
high and desperate. 
"Too much!"

Karen and 
Sponge Bob watched 
in horror as Plankton 
collapsed into a 
sobbing mess, his 
tiny body wracked 
with tremors. His 
hands fluttered in 
his face, his 
breath coming in 
quick, sharp gasps. 
The room grew 
claustrophobic, the 
air thick with his 
panic.

"It's okay," Karen 
whispered, her voice 
shaking. "It's just 
water, Plankton." But 
his anguished cries 
only grew louder.

Sponge Bob's 
heart ached as he 
watched his friend 
fall apart before his 
eyes. Plankton's 
behavior was unlike 
anything he had 
ever seen, his 
usual cunning 
replaced with a raw, 
overwhelming fear.

The room grew 
smaller as Plankton's 
sobs filled the space, 
his body convulsing 
with the intensity 
of his breakdown. 
Karen looked at 
Sponge Bob, her 
expression a mix 
of despair and 
determination. They 
both knew they had to 
calm him down, but 
how?

Sponge Bob took a 
deep breath, trying 
to think. "Plankton," 
he said softly, his 
voice a gentle coax. "Look 
at me, buddy. It's 
just a spill. It's okay."

Plankton's cries grew 
louder, his body 
shaking uncontrollably. 
Karen wrapped her 
arms around him, 
trying to soothe the 
storm raging inside 
his mind. "Shh, it's okay," 
she murmured, her voice 
barely audible over 
his cries.

Sponge Bob's 
heart was in his 
throat as he watched 
his friend's breakdown. 
Plankton was not 
his usual self.

The usually 
scheming, sneaky 
scientist was reduced 
to a quivering mess, 
his sobs echoing 
off the walls of the 
tiny Chum Bucket. His 
face was a mask of 
fear and confusion, 
his single eye wide 
with panic.

"Plankton, please," 
Karen begged, her 
voice trembling. "You're 
scaring me." She scans
his brain.

The results 
were not what she 
expected. The blow 
from Mr. Krabs had 
caused more damage 
than she could have 
imagined. The 
injury had altered 
his brain chemistry 
in a way that was 
both profound and 
irreversible.

Plankton had developed 
a rare condition 
called acquired 
autism, a disorder that 
could occur after 
a severe head trauma. 
It was a cruel twist 
of fate for a man whose 
life had been 
consumed by the 
desire for the Krabby 
Patty formula.

The realization 
hit Karen like a 
tidal wave, knocking 
the wind out of her. 
Her eyes filled with 
tears as she 
whispered the diagnosis 
to Sponge Bob and
Plankton. His 
expression mirrored her 
shock and sadness.

Sponge Bob sat 
silent for a moment, 
his usually cheerful 
face contorted with 
sympathy and concern. 
"What do we do?" he 
asked finally, his voice 
barely above a whisper.
“Can you clean the mess?”
Karen asks him.

He nodded solemnly, 
his movements slow 
and deliberate as he 
stood up to mop the 
spilled water. As 
he worked, he couldn't 
help but feel a deep 
sorrow for his 
friend. Plankton had 
always been the 
troublemaker, the 
one who pushed 
boundaries. But now, 
his world was shattered.

The silence in the 
room was only 
broken by Plankton's 
sobs and the 
swish of the mop.

Sponge Bob's 
heart felt heavy 
as he cleaned up 
the water, his 
thoughts racing. He 
couldn't believe what 
he had just heard. 
His best friend, 
his rival, his... 
his family. Plankton had 
always been there, 
through thick and thin, 
and now he was... 
different. And yet, that’s ok. 

new neurofabulous karen plankton 2

🇩🇪2️⃣

new germany 2 europe

★🍞🔥 TOSTADORAS FOREVER (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠) #OC 🔥🍞★‹𝟹

new 2 4 6 dandy's-world dandy's world

GO HONE 2/2

The nurse returned,
seeing his renewed energy.
"Looks like you're feeling
better," she said with a
smile. "But let's not rush
things."

Plankton nodded eagerly,
his antennas bobbing. 
"Yeth, yeth, I'm weady!"
He tried to sit up again,
his body still wobbly.
The nurse helped him,
adjusting his pillows.
"Let's see if you can
stay awake for a few
more minutes," she said.

He looked at her with
determined innocence,
like a child promising
not to eat cookies before
dinner. "I'm weally weally
weady," he insisted,
his words still thick.
Karen couldn't help but
chuckle, watching him
fight the sleepiness.

"Good," the nurse said.
"Keep talking to your wife,
that'll help keep you
alert."

Plankton's eye lit up with
a childlike excitement. "Ish
fun to tawk to you, Karen,"
he said, his words still
slurred. "Youw make me
happy."

Karen felt her heart swell.
"And you make me happy,"
she said, her voice
sincere despite his
loopy state. "Even when
you're being a goofball."

Plankton's smile grew, his
eye still half-lidded. "Goof...ball?"
he repeated, the words
sounding strange in his
mouth. He giggled again,
his body swaying slightly
with the effort of staying
upright. "Ish fun to be
a goofball."

Karen couldn't resist
smiling back, his
silliness was infectious.
"Yes, it is," she said. "But
you need to stay awake
for a little longer."

Plankton nodded, his
head bobbing slightly.
"Otay, Karen," he said, his
voice still thick. He then
saw the nurse. "Who's
dat?" he whispered, his
eye wide with curiosity.

Karen chuckled softly.
"That's the nurse, Plankton.
Remember?"

He blinked a few times,
his antennas perking up as
his eyes focused on the
kind-faced woman. "Oh,
yeah. Tha nurse lady," he
slurred, his voice full of
sudden realization. "Hi!"

The nurse chuckled.
"Hello, Mr. Plankton.
You're doing great."

Plankton's smile grew
even wider, his cheeks
flushing with pleasure.
"Ish nice to meechu," he said,
sleepily. "I wike
youw hat.."

The nurse couldn't help
but laugh. "Thank you,
Mr. Plankton. It's nice
to meet you too."

Plankton's eye began
to droop again, and Karen
could see the sleep
trying to pull him under.

"Wakey wakey, Plankton,"
she said, giving his hand
a gentle squeeze. "You
have to stay with me."

He nodded, his head
lolling to the side before
snapping back up with a jerk.
"Ish okay, Karen," he
whispered, his voice
still slurred. "Ish okay."

But his eyelid grew
heavy, and his words
trailed off.
"Ish just...tho tiwed," he
mumbled.

Karen's chuckle was gentle,
not wanting to disturb his
attempts to stay alert. "I know,
sweetie," she said, stroking
his hand. "Just a few more
minutes."

But Plankton's eyelid
was like a heavy curtain,
despite his best efforts.
"Whe...whe...why am I so
tiwed?" he slurred, his
head lolling to the side
like a ragdoll's. Karen
knew he wasn't going to
last much longer.

His hand slipped out of
hers, and he began to
snore softly again. Karen
looked over at the nurse,
who nodded in understanding.

"It's normal," the nurse
said. "The anesthesia can
make people pretty loopy
for a while."

Plankton's snores grew
softer, his body relaxing.
Karen watched him, her
expression a mix of
amusement and concern.
"How much longer?"
she asked the nurse.

"Just a little longer,"
the nurse said, checking
his vitals again. "The
effects should start to
wear off soon."

Plankton's snores grew
softer, and then he was
awake again, looking around
the room with wide-
eyed wonder, drool trailing
from the corner of his mouth.
"Whe...where...?" His voice
was a sleepy whisper.

"You're still in the
recovery room," Karen
soothed, wiping his chin
with a tissue. "You fell
asleep again."

Plankton looked up at
her, his eye wide and
innocent. "Did I miss
sumfing?" he asked, his
voice still thick with
slumber.

"No, sweetie," Karen
replied, her voice
soothing. "You just fell
asleep for a bit. You're
still waking up."

Plankton's antennas
perked up, and he
sat up. "But...but
I hav ice cweam?" His eye
were wide with hopeful
inquiry.

Karen nodded with a
smile, wiping the
remaining drool from
his mouth. "Yes, when
we get home, remember?"

Plankton's grin was
infectious. "Yay!" he
cheered, clapping his
hands together with a
slightly awkward smack.

Karen couldn't help
but chuckle at his
reaction, his
childlike enthusiasm
was adorable. "Looks like
you're feeling better,"
she said, her voice
filled with affection.

But Plankton was already
off on another tangent,
his gaze wandering to the
ceiling. "Whewe awe
the fishies?" he asked, his
voice a sleepy whisper.
Karen followed his gaze,
seeing the plain, white
ceiling tiles. "The fishies
are in your imagination,
Plankton," she said, her
tone gentle.

He pouted, his
disappointment palpable.
"Oh," he murmured, his
head lolling to the side.
Karen chuckled, her hand
still on his arm. "They'll
be there when you're all
better," she assured him.
"But for now, let's just
stay here."

The nurse smiled. "Looks like
our patient is feeling
better," she said with a
smile. "Almost ready to
go home?"

Plankton nodded vigorously,
his antennas flopping with
the motion. "Hone, yesh! Ice
cweam!" His eye
closed again, and he
snored lightly. Karen
chuckled. His excitement
was adorable, even if it
was short-lived.

The nurse checked his vital signs.
"Looks like the anesthesia's
wearing off," she said with a
smile. "We can get you
ready to go home soon."

Plankton's eyelid fluttered
open. "Hone?" he asked, his
voice hopeful.

"Almost," Karen said, her voice
calm and soothing. "Just a
few more minutes."

Plankton's eye
closed again, his breaths
deepening into sleep.
His head lolled to the side,
his antennas drooping. Karen
watched him with love. Even in
his most vulnerable state,
his antics brought
a warmth to the room.

The nurse returned
and began to prepare
the discharge papers.
"Almost there," she said with
a wink at Karen. "He'll
be right as rain in no
time."

Plankton stirred again,
his eye half-opening to
a squint. "Whe...where's
my ice cweam?" he
mumbled, his voice
slurred with sleep.

Karen chuckled. "Not
until we get home,
remember?"

Plankton's head
nodded, his antennas
bobbing. "Oh yeah," he
mumbled, his voice
dreamily content.

The nurse finished up
the paperwork and turned
to Karen. "We're all set.
Just make sure he gets
plenty of rest and eats
soft foods for the next
few days."

Plankton's eye shot
open, his antennas
springing to attention. "Ice
cweam?" he asked, his voice
hopeful. Karen laughed,
shaking her head. "When we
get home, remember?"

He pouted, his lower lip
sticking out like a
sulky child's. "But I'm
so tiwed," he whined.
"Tiwed of being tiwed."

Karen couldn't help but
smile at his usual
stubbornness. "You
just had surgery," she
reminded him gently.
"Your body needs to
recover."

Plankton's eye grew
large, and he nodded
slowly. "Oh yeah," he said,
his voice trailing off.
"But...but I wan' ice
cweam..." He faltered
as Karen holds him up.

The nurse chuckled and
handed Karen the papers.
"It's all normal, he's just
loopy from the meds. He'll
be fine once he's home."

Karen nodded, her
expression a mix of
concern and affection.
Plankton's head lolled
back onto her shoulder,
his eye drooping again.
"Ice...cweam?" he mumbled.

"As soon as we get
home, I promise," she
whispered.
His body relaxed into her,
his breathing evening out
into a gentle snore.

The nurse helped Karen
maneuver the sleeping 
Plankton into a
wheelchair, his legs
still not fully cooperating.
"Just a precaution,"
she said with a wink.
"Better safe than sorry."

The cool air of the
hallway hit him like a
wave, and Plankton's eye
popped open. "Whe...?"
he mumbled, looking around
confused.

"It's okay, we're going
home," Karen said, pushing
the wheelchair through
the hospital's sliding doors.
The sun was shining, and
the brightness made him
blink.

Plankton squinted, his eye
trying to adjust to the
light. "Home?" he asked,
his voice still thick with sleep.
"Ice cweam?"

Karen chuckled, nodding.
"Yes, home. And yes, ice
cream." She pushed him
out into the parking lot, the
sun glinting off the cars. Plankton
was still groggy, his
antennas waving slightly
as if trying to keep time with
his thoughts.

The ride home was quiet,
Plankton's snores punctuating
the gentle hum of the engine.
Karen couldn't help but
glance over at him, his mouth
slightly open, his face
peaceful in sleep. She felt a
wave of tenderness wash over
her.

When they finally pulled
up to their house, the sight
of their familiar surroundings
seemed to revive Plankton.
"Whe...we're hone?" he
asked, his voice groggy.

Karen nodded. "Yes,
we're home," she said, her
tone filled with relief.
"Time for that ice cream."

new go hone karen plankton 2

‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

new y 2 k

tum mare janu ho. 🙇

new 777 000 1 400

🥀🕯️𓍯𓂃𓂃𓂃

new 1 myself i love you 100%

SWEET CWEAM pt. 1

Karen stood outside the dental clinic. 
Plankton had been in surgery for what 
felt like an eternity.

The door swung open, and a nurse with a kind 
smile beckoned her inside. "You can go in 
now," she said softly. Karen followed the nurse 
down the hallway. She took a 
deep breath, steeling herself for what lay 
ahead.

In the recovery room, Plankton was still 
unconscious, his face a mask of peace. A line of 
drool had escaped the corner of his mouth. 
Karen felt a twinge of guilt for not being there 
to hold his hand during the surgery.

The nurse checked 
his vital signs and 
nodded to Karen. "You 
can sit with him now." 
Karen pulled a chair next 
to the hospital bed. 
Her hand found his, and she 
squeezed gently.

Plankton's eye flickered 
open. He tried to 
focus, but his eye 
wouldn't cooperate. 
"Karen?" he murmured, 
his voice thick with 
anesthesia.

Her hand tightened around 
his, and her screen swam into 
view. "I'm here, sweetie," she 
whispered, her screen 
glistening with relief.

Plankton blinked several 
times, his mouth feeling like it 
was stuffed with cotton. The 
pain was a distant echo, 
muted by the drugs still 
coursing through his veins. He 
managed a nod, his eyelid 
growing heavy again.

Karen offered a small, 
reassuring smile. "How are 
you feeling?" she asked, her voice 
wrapped in a gentle lilt.

Plankton's mouth felt like it had been 
invaded by an alien species, a strange 
numbness spreading through his jaw. 
He tried to form words, but all that came 
out was a muffled grunt. The nurse 
chuckled, a sound that was both 
soothing and slightly irritating. "It's 
normal," she said, patting his arm. "The 
anesthesia can make it difficult to talk."

He tried to sit up, but his body 
wouldn't respond. It was as if he was 
trapped in a thick fog, unable to move.

The nurse noticed his 
struggle and moved quickly to 
his side. "Easy now, Mr. Plankton," 
she said, placing a firm but gentle hand 
on his shoulder. "You're still under the 
influence of the anesthesia. Take your time."

Plankton nodded, his 
head lolling back onto the pillow. 
His eye darted around the room, 
trying to make sense of his surroundings. 
His mind felt like it was 
floating in a bubble.

"Wha... happened?" he 
slurred, his tongue thick and 
unwieldy.

The nurse chuckled 
kindly. "You had your 
wisdom teeth removed, Mr. 
Plankton. You're going to be 
feeling a bit loopy for a 
while."

The words 
swirled in his head, and 
slowly, the fog began to 
lift. Wisdom teeth? 
Removed? Plankton's hand 
shakily went to his face, 
gently prodding the puffy 
skin around his mouth.

A childlike bewilderment 
washed over him. "Teesh?" 
he murmured, his voice 
smaller than he remembered.

Karen nodded, a smile 
playing at the corners of her 
mouth. "Wisdom teeth," she 
repeated, her voice a soft 
caress in the sterile air. "You'll be 
okay, Plankton."

He squinted, trying to 
understand, and finally 
managed to mumble, "Wheh?"

Karen leaned closer, her 
face a soft blur above him. 
"Wisdom teeth," she said, 
enunciating each syllable as if 
speaking to a toddler. "They 
took out your wisdom teeth."

The words 
sank into Plankton's 
consciousness like a stone 
in a murky pond. Teeth? 
Wisdom? The nurse had said 
something about it, but it 
still didn't make much 
sense. He felt like he had 
forgotten how to piece 
together coherent thoughts.
He looked at 
his wife with wide, 
confused eye, like a 
small child lost in a 
crowded supermarket.

Karen, sensing his 
desperation, spoke 
slowly and clearly, as 
if recounting a bedtime story. 
"You went to the dentist," 
she began, her voice 
soothing. "They had to take 
out four of your teeth."

Plankton's single 
functioning eye went 
even wider. "Foe?" he 
whispered, the shock 
reverberating through his 
fuzzy brain.

"Don't worry," Karen 
soothed, stroking his forehead. 
"You were asleep. You 
didn't feel a thing."

new sweet cweam plaren 1

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     Damarlı kalpEᥫ᭡Ǝ.ᐟ󠁩󠁱󠁨󠁈.ᐟ📧❌
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     Damarlı kalpEᥫ᭡Ǝ.ᐟ󠁩󠁱󠁨󠁈.ᐟ📧❌
      ᡣ𐭩
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     Damarlı kalpEᥫ᭡Ǝ.ᐟ󠁩󠁱󠁨󠁈.ᐟ📧❌
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     🗣️🔤😕☆

Warning: This item may contain sensitive themes such as nudity.

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     🗣️🔤😕☆

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អានស្រីសុំ
⚠️

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⠤⢠⡟⠁⢻⡄⠀⠀⠐⠠⠀⠀⠀⠄⠂⠠⠀⠀⠄⢠⣤⣤⣦⠼⢞⠇⠠⠈⣻⡶
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⣆⠀⠀⡀⠠⠀⢠⡞⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⠀⢙⣧⠀⠨⢁⠨⢀⠸
⣽⠀⠸⣿⡿⠀⢸⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⢸⡇⠀⣀⣒⢦⣆⠡
⣯⡶⠟⠉⠑⠢⢤⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠷⠛⠁⠀⠑⠩⢛
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⣉⣽⠋⠀⠽⣄⣀⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⡾⠁⢾⣿⣿⣧
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⡗⢨⣥⣦⣌⡈⣹⡄⠀⠀⠀⠡⠀⠀⠀⢀⠈⠁⠀⠈⠀⠀⣸⠃⠀⣀⣤⡀⠄⣻

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KAREN TOLD THE DOCTOR 2/2
(Autistic author)
Karen guided him back to their living quarters. Plankton followed her, his steps slow and measured. Each word she spoke was met with an echo. "Home," she said as they entered, and "Home," he repeated, his eye darting around the room, trying to make sense of his surroundings. The space was cluttered with his inventions, a stark contrast to the neatness that Karen had always strived for. It was a mess, but to him, it was a comforting chaos. "Bed," she pointed, indicating where he should rest. He nodded, his gaze lingering on the familiar object. "Bed," he echoed, a hint of understanding in his tone. Together, they moved through the space, each step a gentle reintroduction to a life that had changed so dramatically. Karen felt like she was walking on eggshells, afraid to say the wrong thing, to push him too far. Plankton's gaze flitted from object to object, his voice a soft whisper of repetition. "Chair, chair," he mumbled, fixating. She watched as he touched the material, his fingertips tracing the seams, his mind racing with sensory input. "Yes, Plankton, that's a chair," she said, her voice a gentle reminder of the world around them. "You sit on it to rest." Plankton nodded, the concept of rest still elusive. "Rest," he repeated, his voice a shadow of hers. Karen guided him to the chair, his body stiff with uncertainty. He sat down slowly. "Rest," he murmured, his body finally relaxing. As they sat together in the cluttered room, Karen realized that their life was going to be a series of tiny moments like these, each one a delicate dance of patience and understanding. "Love you," she said, her voice thick with emotion. Plankton's eye flitted to hers, his expression a puzzled mixture of feelings. "Love you," he echoed, his voice a mirror of her own. Karen swallowed a lump in her throat. "I know it's confusing, Plankton. But I'm here for you," she whispered, her hand squeezing his. Plankton nodded, his gaze flitting around the room, his mind a whirlwind of sounds and sensations. "Here," he echoed, his voice barely above a murmur. Karen led him to their bed, his steps unsure and sluggish. He had never been so reliant on her. "Bed," she said, pointing to the soft, inviting mattress. Plankton stared at it, the word bouncing around in his head like a pinball. "Bed," he echoed, his voice barely audible. With Karen's guidance, Plankton lay down, his body finally surrendering to exhaustion. The fabric of the sheets was a cool caress against his skin, a sensation he found oddly comforting. The ceiling fan spun above, casting shadows that danced in a hypnotic pattern. "Goodnight, Plankton," Karen said, her voice a soothing lullaby in the quiet room. Plankton's eye was closed now, his breaths slow and deep. The world outside had faded away, leaving only the rhythmic whirring of the fan and the gentle lapping of the waves against the window. Karen stood by the bed, watching his chest rise and fall. In the quiet, she noticed the way his antennas twitched, as if he was dreaming of the sea's mysteries. Or perhaps he was dreaming of the Krabby Patty formula, the elusive prize that had consumed his mind for so long. Karen's smile was bittersweet. He had always been so driven, so obsessed with outsmarting Mr. Krabs. Now, the dreams he chased were more innocent, more pure. The room was bathed in a soft blue light from the moon, casting a peaceful glow over Plankton's sleeping form. Karen leaned over and kissed his forehead, his skin cool and clammy. "Rest well, my love," she whispered, her voice a gentle caress in the silent room. As the night stretched on, Plankton's sleep remained deep and untroubled. Karen sat by his side, her mind racing with thoughts of the future. How would they manage the Chum Bucket? What about his schemes against Mr. Krabs? Would he still be able to cook, to innovate, to live the life they had built together? Karen woke up first the next day, her eyes gently adjusting to the dim light of dawn. Plankton was still asleep beside her, his body curled into a tight ball. The ceiling fan had stopped spinning hours ago, leaving the room in a comforting silence. She studied his face, her heart heavy with love and worry. The lines of tension had softened with sleep, and for a moment, he almost looked like the Plankton she knew before the fall. She kissed his forehead, her lips lingering for a moment longer than necessary. His skin was cool to the touch, and she couldn't help but wonder what dreams played out behind his closed eye. Dreams of a world that made sense, or a world filled with the sensory overload that now consumed his waking hours? The morning light grew stronger, casting long shadows across the cluttered room. Karen knew she had to start the day, to face the challenges that awaited them. But she couldn't bear to leave his side, not yet. Plankton's snores grew softer, his body slowly unfurling from its defensive ball. He mumbled something unintelligible, his eye twitching beneath his eyelid. Was he dreaming of the ocean? Of Krabby Patties? Or was it something entirely different, a world only he could see? The morning light grew brighter, painting the room in shades of pink and orange. Karen sat by the window, watching the sun rise over the Bikini Bottom skyline. The usual symphony of sounds from outside seemed muted today, as if the world knew something important had shifted. Plankton stirred in his sleep, his antennas twitching with the first whispers of the new day. Karen's heart skipped a beat as she watched him, wondering what thoughts swam in his head. Would he wake up and be the same Plankton she knew, or was he lost in a world of his own, navigating a sea of sensory overwhelm? The sun creeped through the cracks in the curtains, casting warm beams of light across the room. The shadows grew shorter, the darkness receding with each passing moment. Karen took a deep breath, preparing herself for whatever the day might bring. Plankton stirred again, his single eye fluttering open. "Morning," he said, his voice still slightly mechanical. Karen turned to him with a smile, the worry in her eyes masked by her determination. "Good morning, honey," she replied, her voice cheerful despite the heaviness. He sat up, the sheets sliding off his slender frame. Plankton took a deep breath, his eye finding Karen's. "Good morning," he echoed, his voice a little more steady. Karen smiled with hope. "How did you sleep?" Plankton nodded, his gaze flitting to the ceiling. "Bed, good," he said, his voice a soft echo of her own. Despite his new challenges, Plankton was still trying to make sense of the world. He stood up, his legs shaky and unsure. Karen watched him with a mix of anxiety and admiration. He was trying so hard, his body and mind fighting to find a balance in this new reality. "Let's go to the kitchen," she suggested, her voice filled with optimism. Plankton nodded, his movements cautious. In the kitchen, the smell of the sea was strong, mingling with the scents of grease and salt. His antennas quivered as he took in the sensory assault. Karen guided him to the stove. "Would you like to make chum?" she asked, her voice soft and encouraging. Plankton's gaze darted to the bubbling pot, his eye lighting up. "Chum," he murmured, his voice a comforting echo. He nodded, his enthusiasm genuine despite his confusion. Karen smiled, her heart lifting at the familiar spark in his eye. "Yes, honey. Let's make some chum together," she said, guiding him through the process step by step. Plankton's hands hovered over the ingredients, his gaze flitting from Karen to the various containers. "Chum," he whispered, as if reciting a sacred incantation. Karen handed him a spatula, his favorite tool for cooking. His hand closed around it with a determination she hadn't seen since before the accident. "Stir," she instructed, her voice calm and steady. Plankton focused on the task, his eye fixed on the swirling mixture. The motion was soothing, a familiar rhythm that his brain could latch onto. "Stir," he echoed, his voice a comforting metronome. Karen watched him, her heart beating a little faster. Would he remember how to cook, how to make the chum that had kept their restaurant afloat for so long? She held her breath as he tentatively began to move the spatula in circles. The chum sizzled and popped, the sounds echoing around the kitchen. Plankton's eye grew wide. "Sound," he said, his voice reverting to a soft echo. Karen nodded, her gaze encouraging. "Yes, it's the sound of chum cooking," she said, smiling despite the lump in her throat. Plankton nodded, his movements becoming more confident as he continued to stir. The chum began to thicken, the aroma filling the kitchen. Karen felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, this was a part of Plankton that was unchanged, a piece of his old self that had survived the fall. Plankton continued to stir, his eye focused on the chum. It was a task he knew well, a comforting routine in a world that now felt like an alien landscape. Karen watched him, her heart in her throat. As he worked, his movements grew more fluid, his body remembering the motions that had been engrained in his muscles for years. "Look, honey, you're doing it," she said, her voice filled with pride. Plankton's eye darted to her, then back to the pot. "Doing it," he echoed, his voice a soft affirmation. The chum began to simmer, the smell filling the room with a comforting warmth. It was a small victory, but one that filled Karen with a renewed sense of optimism. As they stood side by side, cooking the chum, Karen realized that this was their new normal. The man she knew was still there, hidden beneath the layers of echoes and repetition. Her role had shifted from partner in crime to guide and support. But she was ready to face it, to help Plankton navigate his new reality. 

new The SpongeBob Musical - Various/Anthony & Coulton/Jarrow SpongeBob SquarePants (Cartoon) karen told the doctor 2

🐈🥰

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⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢰⣿⣿⣆⢈⡇⣇⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⣿⢱⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡎⡟⢿⣿⣾⢷⡻⡀⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢳⡟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⢿⣄⣹⣿⠂⢷⣧⠘⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠛⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣬⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣌⢿⣿⣿⣷⣾⡻⢂⠹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡙⢿⢤⣤⢭⣛⣻⢇⣶⢻⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⡻⣿⣿⣿⡿⣀⠀⡻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⠿⠿⠃⠀⠀⢉⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠁⠘⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣾⣶⣾⣿⣆⠚⢽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⠄⣠⢤⣦⢖⣶⡠⠦⠄⠀⡀⠙⣿⣿⣿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⠚⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⢀⣠⠤⠞⠉⠉⠻⠝⠚⠟⠄⠈⢈⠈⡈⣀⣴⣶⣴⣦⣽⣿⢧⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢐⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣦⣰⣲⣶⣤⣀⢰⣶⣶⣤⡦⠿⣿⣿⢐⣵⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢣⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠠⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⡿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⣷⡒⠚⠛⠛⠛⠨⣳⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡱⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣰⣤⡻⣟⢿⠟⢷⠇⢛⢟⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣤⡀⣀⣰⡾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⣿⣿⣶⣭⠋⠇⠄⠨⠘⠻⢿⣿⢿⡿⣿⣷⣵⣯⣇⠈⠘⠙⢛⡻⠟⣿⣿⣇⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣄⣂⠀⠀⠁⠀⠉⠻⠂⢘⠙⠙⠉⠈⠀⠀⠀⣀⣥⣾⣿⣿⣿⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡾⣵⡠⣦⡀⠀⣀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⢾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣷⣿⣷⣿⠦⣴⣼⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢺⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡼⣿⣿⣶⣶⣾⣯⣿⣽⣽⡻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠁⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠈⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢧⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢏⣾⡄⠀⠀⡜⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠈⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⠛⠃
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⣾⣿⣷⡄⠀⠀⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⢍⠙⠛⠿⠿⠟⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣄⠀⠈⣹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢡⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⡀⠱⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢷⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⣡⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣄⠙⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠛⠁⠈⣹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⡀⠙⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢻⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⣴⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠈⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⠤⡀⣀⠀⠀⠈⠣⠀⠀⠀
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⣩⠠⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠷⠞⣡⠟⠛⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⣿⣿⡿⠏⠁⡐⢹⠖⠁⠁⠀⠂⠀⠀⠹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣺⣿⣷⣶⣆⡹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠲⣾⠟⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⣿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠁⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣇⠉⠘⢿⣿⣷⣌⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⣁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⣿⣯⣿⣿⣼⣿⣿⣿⡟⠉⠀⠀⠀⢸⡿⠉⢝⠠⠙⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠛⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣦⣐⣂⣄⠀⠀⠉⠛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⣿⡿⠟⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠛⠂⠀⠀⣦⡈⢻⣿⣿⡯⢀⣠⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣆⠉⢉⣴⣿⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⢂⢣⡹⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠑⢿⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⢄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⢿⣿⣿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠈⠉⢛⡃⡀⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠈⠙⡹⣂⣒⠿⡖⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣦⠀⠀⠀⢑⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

new 2 common year starting on sunday 1 dot art text art ascii art

Ⓜhi

new a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0

ɪ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ

new 2 000

「 ✦ Shivam ✦ 」

new 1 2 double middle finger text art

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣿⣆⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠜⠀⣀⣠⡴⠖⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⠻⡆⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣤⠴⠞⠋⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡴⠞⠋⠉⣠⡆⠰⡇⠸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⡇⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣤⡈⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⡇⢀⣷⣀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣧⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡿⠗⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠛⡉⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠴⠞⠉⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⡀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⠷⠀⠀⠈⣿⡇⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⡿⢻⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⣿⣧⠀
⢠⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⠃⣾⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⡀⠀⠀⢸⣿⠀
⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⢠⡿⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣇⠀⠀⠘⣿⡄
⢸⣧⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⡟⠀⠀⠀⣿⡇
⠈⣿⡄⠀⢀⣿⠇⠀⣿⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣿⠋⣿⣿⣦⣀⣀⣠⣾⡇⠀⠀⠀⢿⡇
⠀⢻⣿⣶⣾⡿⠀⠀⠹⣿⣿⣶⣶⣿⣿⠋⠀⠈⠻⣿⣿⣿⡿⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇
⠀⠀⠙⠛⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠿⠿⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⠀

new 1 2 ١ dot art text art ascii art

❤️😏💑👩‍❤️‍👨👩‍❤️‍👨👩‍❤️‍👨👩‍❤️‍👨❤️❤️❤️💏💏💏💝💝💝nྀི👩‍❤️‍👨🥰❤S𑁤ˎˊ˗˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚💌▶🦸

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣤⣾⡷⠶⠛⠋⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠛⠿⣶⣶⣶⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣶⠟⠛⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠛⠦⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣴⠾⠟⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠳⣤⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡾⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠿⣷⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢻⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣷⠂⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣧⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⡇⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢺⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⡿⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⠃⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⣠⣿⠋⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠁⠀⢀⣾⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣴⡿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣾⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⡿⠋⠀⠘⠻⣷⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⠿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣧⡛⢿⣦⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣴⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣿⡤⠈⠻⠿⣷⣄⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣤⣦⣴⣴⡆⢀⣠⣶⠿⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⢃⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣷⡀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠻⠿⢶⣤⣤⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣉⣀⣤⣤⠿⠛⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠛⠻⠿⠿⠶⠶⠶⠾⢿⣿⡛⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⢠⣾⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡇⠀⠀⢀⣤⣤⣴⣶⣤⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣻⠗⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⣾⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⣴⠾⠟⠉⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⠿⣶⣀⠀⢀⣤⣶⠾⠿⠛⠶⠿⣶⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⢰⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣷⣾⠟⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣆⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⢠⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣤⣤⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣤⣤⣤⣀⣀⣿⡟⢶⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⣾⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⢷⣦⣀⣀⣴⠟⠋⢩⣉⠻⣿⡆⠀⢀⣾⣛⣹⡍⠉⠛⠿⠟⠀⢸⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⢰⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠙⠛⠛⠻⣷⡀⣿⡟⠙⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⡟⢿⣶⣄⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡇⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⡏⡀⠀⠉⠙⠛⠿⣶⣦⣤⣤⣤⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⡿⠀⠹⣧⣀⠀⢀⣠⣴⡾⠟⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣿⢿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣤⠀⠈⠙⠿⠿⠿⣿⣿⢿⡇⠀⠀⠈⠻⠿⠛⠋⠁⠀⢰⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⡟⠈⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡗⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⣿⡾⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠸⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠙⢿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠈⠹⢦⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣾⠟⠉⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡿⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠲⢦⣤⣄⣀⣀⣠⣤⣴⠿⠛⠋⠁⠀⠈⢻⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠸⣷⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣼⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣧⣀⣀⠀⣀⣀⣶⠏⠀⠀⠈⠻⠷⠶⣶⡾⠿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⢀⡠⣒⡽⣻⢿⣶⣶⣿⣿⣿⡿⣲⣦⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⠔⠂⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠐⠪⢐⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡴⣗⡝⡾⣹⢲⡝⣞⡻⣏⣟⣞⣧⡻⢖⣮⡑⡵⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣔⠞⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠐⣰⠀⠄⠀⣰⡝⣮⡝⢶⣙⣮⡟⠑⠚⠉⠉⢛⣯⣂⠚⣧⣷⡸⣹⡄⠀⢀⣘⠀⢰⣯⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣧⢀⠢⣄⠴⠭
⠩⢫⠫⠉⢠⣧⣋⢵⣚⡳⣿⢳⣟⣚⢷⡦⣾⣻⠉⢻⣃⢿⣧⣻⢸⣳⠀⠔⠏⠠⣻⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡒⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠀⢰⠐⣿⢆⠊⠹⠢⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⡧⣏⢶⣻⣿⠏⢸⣏⣾⣹⣞⣳⠇⠀⠀⢻⣼⣷⢿⢿⠈⠁⠀⠀⠀⣿⠉⡍⢠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠈⠳⢄⠀⠀⠀⡆⠆⣸⠀⡏⠘⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⣿⣯⢿⡏⠀⢸⣼⣏⠟⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⡿⢾⡞⢆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠇⡀⢇⣸⠀⢀⡄⠀⢠⠇⠐⡒⠒⢺⣖⣸⣏⣀⣇⣀⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣏⣿⣽⡾⣧⡴⣶⢾⠉⠘⠁⠀⠀⢹⡿⢿⠓⣇⣿⣹⣹⣧⠤⠤⢤⣄⣣⠘⣿⠤⠜⠛⠒⠋⠀⠀⢣⣀⠼⠘⢻⡶⢺⣷⡾⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣏⣿⢿⠀⡷⣾⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⠞⠀⣹⣾⣾⣇⡿⣐⠅⠐⠒⡻⡷⣧⣄⣀⠀⠀⢠⡄⠀⠀⠀⣀⡤⡻⢡⡏⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⢀⠰⢀⡀⠀⢠⡿⣾⣘⣯⣧⣀⡀⠀⠀⢰⠆⣀⣀⡤⠴⢺⣿⣯⡻⠐⠀⡀⠀⡠⠀⢆⠑⢷⢯⣯⢫⣿⣁⣌⣉⡍⣩⣿⣶⡷⡿⣷⢿⠀⠀⠀⡀⡆⡀⠀
⢒⢳⠕⠒⠀⢎⠁⠀⠙⠯⣿⣿⠉⢉⠛⡬⢱⣃⠷⣖⢄⠘⠿⠀⢱⠀⠘⢁⠎⠀⠀⡜⢀⢸⠈⢣⣿⣿⣏⠙⠉⠝⣿⣿⡿⠀⠙⡇⢸⡆⠀⠐⣸⣟⠂⠀
⠊⠈⠐⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⢀⣽⣿⡀⣞⢀⣇⣈⣉⡶⣻⠜⢦⡀⠀⠈⠐⠢⡜⠀⣤⢠⠃⠸⢸⠀⢸⠉⣻⣿⣢⡆⣴⣿⡿⢷⠀⠀⡇⢸⡇⠀⠀⠋⠋⠂⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⢖⠏⡄⠘⣩⠷⣧⣨⠿⣿⣟⣷⢈⠀⠽⢦⠀⠀⠀⢩⡻⣍⠎⠠⠀⡆⠀⢸⢡⣿⡟⢸⡇⣿⣿⡇⠀⡇⠀⡇⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⢴⢋⡎⠐⣬⣲⠽⢺⠧⢐⡉⠛⣿⢹⡏⡟⢯⡀⡌⢳⣄⣠⠗⠀⠀⠀⠉⠲⣲⢄⣿⣿⣟⡷⣾⣻⣽⡏⣷⡀⢹⡄⡇⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠈⠯⠜⠚⠉⠀⠀⢸⠘⢠⠂⡅⢻⣎⣿⢹⡄⠙⢦⣩⣯⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠐⣽⡿⣾⣽⣳⣟⣾⢯⣼⡷⡀⠳⡅⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣈⣂⢱⢈⣙⣿⢧⠟⢇⠀⠙⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠰⣟⣿⣳⢯⣷⣻⢾⣮⢩⣇⠙⠒⠃⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⢠⠀⠀
⠀⢀⢀⡠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣏⣍⣫⣤⣦⣭⣶⣾⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠤⣠⣂⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⡟⠛⢾⠟⠯⡿⠂⢉⠀⠀⠀⠁⣿⠀⠀⡉⡮⠾⠥
⠀⡨⢛⢔⠒⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣿⡿⢷⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣦⣄⡁⠀⠈⠔⠏⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢃⠀⡈⠀⡸⠁⠘⡌⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠀⠉⠂
⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⠛⠻⠯⠿⠿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⡄⢣⣠⢋⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢳⠒⢋⠉⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣷⣿⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⠿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

new 1 2 dot art text art ascii art

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⡤⠖⠚⠉⠁⠀⠀⠉⠙⠒⢄⠀⢂⢠⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠔⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⢢⣐⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡰⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣆⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢇⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⡄
⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠇
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡘
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣶⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣶⡆⠀⢠⠇
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣣⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠁⡰⠃⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠞⠋⢳⢤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠜⠁⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⣰⠋⠀⠀⠀⢷⠙⠲⢤⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠴⠴⣆⠴⠚⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⣰⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⡇⠀⣀⣀⡉⠙⠒⠒⠒⡎⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⢠⠃⠀⠀⢶⠀⠀⠀⢳⠋⠁⠀⠙⢳⡠⠖⠚⠑⠲⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⡎⠀⠀⠀⠘⣆⠀⠀⠈⢧⣀⣠⠔⡺⣧⠀⡴⡖⠦⠟⢣⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢈⡷⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⢹⣾⠁⠁⠀⣠⠎⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡼⠆⠀⠉⢉⡝⠓⠦⠤⢾⠈⠓⠖⠚⢹⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⢰⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠁⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠳⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⢾⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠈⠐⠢⠤⠤⠔⠚⠁⠘⣆⠀⠀⢠⠋⢧⣀⣀⡼⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠈⠁⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

new 2 julian calendar 4 25 dot art text art ascii art

⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⣉⣠⣶⣾⣷⣆⡛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢇⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⠘⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠯⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠁⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠟⢠⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠟⣡⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠏⠁⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣵⣶⣦⣦⣶⣦⣶⣼⣤⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿

new 2 two number II number 2 dot art text art ascii art

³³³² ² ²⁰¹²³⁴⁵⁶⁷⁸⁹¹¹¹¹¹¹7️¹¹¹¹¹¹¹¹¹¹¹¹¹¹¹¹¹¹¹¹¹¹¹¹¹¹¹¹¹¹¹¹¹.ᐟ¹¹¹

new amor numeros fechas 2

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣠⣦⣤⣴⣤⣤⣄⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣤⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⡀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣛⣛⣻⣿⣦⣀⠀⢀⣀⣀⣏⣹⠀
⢠⣶⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠭⠭⠽⠽⠿⠿⠭⠭⠭⠽⠿⠿⠛
⠈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⠛⠉⢻⣿⣿⣿⡟⠏⠉⠉⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⠛⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⠋⠑⠒⠒⠚⠙⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⣿⣿⡿⠿⠛⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⣿⡿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠛⠛⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⢿⣿⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

new 12 7 2 dot art text art ascii art

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⠤⠤⠤⠤⠤⠤⠤⠤⠤⠤⢤⣤⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡼⠋⠀⣀⠄⡂⠍⣀⣒⣒⠂⠀⠬⠤⠤⠬⠍⠉⠝⠲⣄⡀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⢀⡾⠁⠀⠊⢔⠕⠈⣀⣀⡀⠈⠆⠀⠀⠀⡍⠁⠀⠁⢂⠀⠈⣷⠀⠀
⠀⠀⣠⣾⠥⠀⠀⣠⢠⣞⣿⣿⣿⣉⠳⣄⠀⠀⣀⣤⣶⣶⣶⡄⠀⠀⣘⢦⡀
⢀⡞⡍⣠⠞⢋⡛⠶⠤⣤⠴⠚⠀⠈⠙⠁⠀⠀⢹⡏⠁⠀⣀⣠⠤⢤⡕⠱⣷
⠘⡇⠇⣯⠤⢾⡙⠲⢤⣀⡀⠤⠀⢲⡖⣂⣀⠀⠀⢙⣶⣄⠈⠉⣸⡄⠠⣠⡿
⠀⠹⣜⡪⠀⠈⢷⣦⣬⣏⠉⠛⠲⣮⣧⣁⣀⣀⠶⠞⢁⣀⣨⢶⢿⣧⠉⡼⠁
⠀⠀⠈⢷⡀⠀⠀⠳⣌⡟⠻⠷⣶⣧⣀⣀⣹⣉⣉⣿⣉⣉⣇⣼⣾⣿⠀⡇⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠈⢳⡄⠀⠀⠘⠳⣄⡀⡼⠈⠉⠛⡿⠿⠿⡿⠿⣿⢿⣿⣿⡇⠀⡇⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢦⣕⠠⣒⠌⡙⠓⠶⠤⣤⣧⣀⣸⣇⣴⣧⠾⠾⠋⠀⠀⡇⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠶⣭⣒⠩⠖⢠⣤⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⠔⠁⡰⠀⣧⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⠲⢤⣀⣀⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⣠⠏⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠛⠒⠲⠶⠤⠴⠒⠚⠁⠀⠀

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Sandy Learnt a Secret Emojis & Text

Copy & Paste Sandy Learnt a Secret Emojis & Symbols SANDY LEARNT A SECRET 1/2"Howdy, y'all!" Sandy cal

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