Sweet Cweam Emojis & Text

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."

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.

SWEET CWEAM pt. 3 The car ride home was a blur of sights and sounds that Plankton struggled to make sense of. The sun was bright, piercing through the numbness like a needle. He leaned his head against the cool glass of the window, watching the world slide by like a slow-moving painting. "Muh face ith funny," he mumbled, poking at his cheek with a finger. The skin felt like it didn't belong to him, a puffy alien appendage attached to his face. Karen just smiled, her eyes on the road. "You're just a bit swollen, Plankton. It'll go down soon," she soothed. "Buh ith wobbly," he laughs. "Muh tongue feelth bith," he complained. Karen's smile grew wider, her eyes never leaving the road. "It's the anesthesia, sweetie. It'll wear off." Plankton's eye grew even wider at her words, his mouth moving in silent protest. "Ith not funny," he slurred, his voice a comical mix of indignation and innocence. Karen couldn't help but laugh a little, the tension of the day finally easing. "I know, I know," she soothed, her eyes dancing with mirth. "But you're so cute when you're all sleepy and confused." Plankton's eye narrowed, the childish innocence fading a touch. "Cuth?" he repeated, his voice a mix of hurt and indignance. "I'm not cuth. I'm in pwain," he whined, his words slurring together like wet paint. Karen's laughter filled the car, a soothing balm to his bruised ego. "I know you are, Plankton," she said, her voice a warm caress. "But you're also really adorable." Plankton pouted, his cheek pressing against the window. The cold glass felt good against his swollen skin. "I'm not thorable," he murmured. Karen's laughter was a gentle melody that floated through the car, turning into their driveway. "You're not a baby. You're my brave husband." Plankton's pout turned into a lopsided smile at the praise. "Thathks," he murmured. The garage door rumbled open, and Karen helped him into the Chum Bucket. Once inside, the coolness of their living room washed over him like a wave. He looked around with fresh eyes, as if seeing their home for the first time. "Wook at the wawws," he said, stumbling over to them. "They'we so big." Karen followed, shaking her head and smiling at his disjointed words. "Yes, dear, they're the same walls as always." He looked at her with wonder, his thoughts racing like a child's. "Buth they'we nah alwaysth big," he insisted, his voice filled with awe. Karen just smiled, leading him to the couch. "You're feeling a bit loopy from the medicine," she said, helping him sit down. Plankton's eye lit up as he examined the cushions. "Theth awe soggy," he exclaimed, his voice filled with delight. Karen chuckled, helping him settle into the plush seat. The numbness was slowly receding, but his tongue remained a traitor, tripping over every word. He looked around the room with fresh curiosity, his thoughts swirling like colored sugar in a cup of tea.

SWEET CWEAM pt. 4 "Can I hav thome wathermelon?" he asked, his voice a slurry mess. Karen chuckled and shook her head. "Not yet, Plankton. You have to stick to soft foods today. How about some ice cream?" His eye lit up, his smile growing wider, exposing the whiteness of his teeth. "Ith cweam?" he repeated, the words spilling out like a child's first attempt at a sentence. Karen nodded, her own smile a mirror of his. "Yes, soft serve ice cream. It's perfect for your mouth right now." Plankton clapped his hands together in glee. "Ith weal," he declared, his tongue still thick and clumsy. "My faworite!" Karen fetched the promised treat from the freezer, the coolness of the ice cream contrasting sharply with the warmth of the room. She scooped a generous amount into a bowl, handing it to him with a spoon. Plankton's eye lit up, and he took the spoon with the excitement of a toddler getting their first taste of ice cream. With a clumsy attempt at grace, he lifted the spoon to his mouth, the numbness in his face making it difficult to aim. A dribble of ice cream escaped and landed on the table, but he barely noticed, his attention focused on the cold sweetness that washed over his tongue. "Mmh," he mumbled, his voice a mix of pleasure and pain as the frozen treat hit his sensitive gums. "Careful," Karen cautioned, her voice like a lullaby. "You don't want to hurt yourself." Plankton nodded, his movements exaggerated, like a character in a silent movie. The spoon wobbled in his hand as he scooped up another mouthful of the cold cream, his tongue still struggling to navigate the uncharted waters of his own mouth. He managed to get the spoonful into his mouth with minimal spillage, his cheeks hollowing out as he savored the taste. "Wow, thith ith tho good," he mumbled, his words coming out like a muffled shout. Karen couldn't help but laugh as she watched him. His enthusiasm was infectious, even if his coordination was not. He took another bite, the cold sensation making his eye water. "It'th tho cold!" he exclaimed, his voice high-pitched and filled with excitement. The numbness in his cheeks was wearing off now, leaving a tingling sensation that made his words come out slurred and exaggerated. "It's supposed to be cold, Plankton," Karen said, her voice a symphony of patience. "It's ice cream." He nodded, his cheeks red with effort and cold. Each spoonful was a small victory, a dance between the spoon and his uncooperative mouth. Karen’s glad she turned their security cameras on record. Of course, she didn’t tell Plankton. Not yet. Then suddenly, Sponge Bob comes in the door, surprising both of them. "Squishy!" Plankton exclaims, his voice a strange mix of joy and pain. Sponge Bob's eyes widen. "You okay, Plankton?" he asks, looking at Karen for an explanation. Karen nods, still chuckling. "Wisdom teeth surgery," she says, her voice a gentle whisper. "The anesthesia is making his mouth all numb." Sponge Bob's eyes go wide with concern. "Ouchies?" he asks, his own mouth forming a sympathetic grimace. Plankton nods vigorously, the motion sending a shiver down his spine. "Yeth, ouchiesth," he mumbles around the mouthful of ice cream, his speech still slurred like a toddler's. Karen watches the interaction with a soft smile, her heart swelling with affection for her babbling husband. Sponge Bob crosses the room with his usual boundless energy, plopping down next to Plankton. "So, how was your big trip to the dental place?" he asks, his eyes full of concern and curiosity. Plankton looks at his friend with the gravity of a philosopher. "It’th... advehnturous," he says, his mouth still numb, making each word a challenge. Sponge Bob leans in, his spongy body wobbling slightly. "What kind of adventure?" he asks, his eyes shining with curiosity. Plankton's voice takes on a storytelling tone, his words slurred but earnest. "I frew," he says, his eye wide and filled with wonder. "I frew wike a birdie!" Sponge Bob's grin splits his face. "You flew?" he repeats, his voice a mix of disbelief and amusement. Karen's smile widens, listening to the nonsense her husband was spinning. Plankton nods, his eye glazed over. "Yeah," he murmurs, his tongue sluggish. "It wath magithal." Karen and Sponge Bob exchange glances, trying not to laugh. Plankton's childlike awe in the face of his own numbness was both heartwarming and hilarious. "Buh wait," Plankton says, his spoon paused mid-air. "Thath not aww," his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "I theen... I theen I wath a dolphin!" Sponge Bob's eyes go wide with fascination. "A dolphin?" he repeats, his voice filled with awe. "How did you do that?" Plankton's smile grows even wider, his cheeks pushing against the swollen skin. "It'th a mithtewwy," he says, his speech still slurred. "They goth me all sleeby and thewe I wath flipping and twirling in the wathah!" Sponge Bob's eyes are as wide as saucers, his imagination running wild with the tale. "Wow, Plankton, that sounds amazing!" Plankton nods, his face a picture of seriousness. "It wath," he slurs, his voice filled with convinction. "Buth then... then I woke up." His expression remains affectionate for he’s too out of it to play it cool in front of Sponge Bob. He’s always wanted him as a good friend but his pride usually stops him; but now, with no filter, Plankton’s not gonna hold back. Sponge Bob looks at Karen with a mix of confusion and delight. "Was it scary?" he asks, his voice gentle. Karen nods, a warm chuckle bubbling up. "A little," she says, her hands folded in her lap. "But he's a tough guy." Plankton's eye swims with emotions, his face flushing with a mix of pride and embarrassment. "Yeath," he says, his tongue still a traitor. "Buh now youw know my thecret."

SWEET CWEAM pt. 5 Sponge Bob's eyes widen even more, his spongy body leaning forward in anticipation. "A secret?" Plankton nods, his speech still slurred. "Yeth, I thweal." He looks around the room, his expression a mix of mischief and excitement. "But it's juss tween ush," he whispers, his voice a conspiratorial mumble. Sponge Bob nods solemnly, his eyes wide with interest. "Of course it is, Plankton," he says, his voice filled with the gravity of a secret keeper. “What’s the secret?” Plankton leans in, his speech still slurred but his eye gleaming with mischief. "It'th that I luv... to thee youw," he says, his voice hitching with each word. Sponge Bob's expression shifts from concern to surprise, his eyes watering with laughter. "You love to...see me?" he repeats, trying to make sense of the garbled confession. “Of couth I do, Squishy Bob!” Plankton exclaims with a wobbly smile, his tongue struggling against the unyielding numbness. “Youw the bestest fwiend evar!” Karen watches the exchange with a soft fondness, seeing Plankton’s usual guard down and his true heart shining through. She's never seen him like this before, so open and vulnerable. "Thath right, I do," Plankton repeats, his voice a warm rumble in his chest. Sponge Bob's smile can't help but grow. "That's so nice of you to say, Plankton," he manages to get out between his giggles. Karen can't remember the last time she saw Plankton this way, his usual stoicism stripped away by the remnants of the anesthesia. It's like seeing him as a completely new person, one filled with pure, unfiltered affection. "Ith wove you," Plankton says, his voice thick. "Youw'we my bessst fwiend." Sponge Bob's laughter subsides into a warm smile. "Plankton, I love you too," he says, his voice genuine. Karen's heart swells with love for both of them, watching them share a moment so raw and pure. Plankton's head nods, his drool forming a small puddle on the table. Karen quickly grabs a napkin and dabs his chin. "Thath so sweet, Squishy," he slurs, his eye half- closed with sleep. The room spins around him, a soft, warm embrace that makes his eyelid flutter. He tries to keep it open, but it like heavy curtains pulling him back into slumber. "Ith time for nath nap?" he asks, his voice a sleepy whisper. Karen laughs, her hand gentle as she wipes the drool from his chin. "Almost," she says, her voice like a warm blanket. "First, let's get you to the couch." With Sponge Bob's help, they ease Plankton into his favorite spot, his body sinking into the plush cushions with a sigh of relief. The numbness in his mouth is slowly receding, leaving a tender throb in its wake. He wraps himself in the comfort of his blanket, his mind swirling with the leftover fog of the anesthesia. Whence SpongeBob leaves, Karen saves the footage from the security cameras. Plankton next wakes up in the morning, sore and also without any anesthesia left in his system. Of course, he barely recalls going to the dentist. He doesn’t know what’s happened after leaving the surgery. His mouth feels like a desolate wasteland, each movement a sharp reminder of the procedure. He gingerly prods his swollen cheeks with his tongue, feeling the gaping holes where his wisdom teeth used to be. Karen is by his side. “Karen? Whath happenth?” Plankton says, feeling the aching. “Where…” Her smile is a comforting beacon. “You had wisdom teeth surgery, Plankton. You’re okay, you’re home now. Just rest, you’ve had a long day.” “I remember going in to surgery. That’s all.” Karen brings over a glass of water. "Here, babe," she says, her voice a gentle wake-up call. Plankton takes it, his hand trembling slightly. He sips carefully, the cool liquid sliding down his throat with a soothing grace. He swallows with difficulty, the pain in his throat a reminder of his dental odyssey. "What...what time ish it?" Karen looks at the clock, her expression a mix of amusement and concern. "It's morning, Plankton," she says, her voice a soft chime. "You've been sleeping for a while."

SWEET CWEAM pt. 6 Plankton's eye widen with realization, his memory a jigsaw puzzle with a few missing pieces. "Yeth-terday?" he asks, his voice scratchy with sleep. Karen nods, her smile gentle. "You had surgery yesterday. You're recovering now. Remember?" Plankton's mind fumbles with the memory, like a kite caught in a storm. "I... I think so," he murmurs. “But what happened after?” Karen's smile doesn't falter. "You don't remember?" she asks, a hint of mischief creeping in. Plankton's expression clouds with concern, his eye searching hers for an answer. "What... what did I do?" His voice is a worried whisper, each word a struggle. Karen's mirth evaporates, replaced with understanding. "You don't remember?" she asks gently, sitting on the edge of the couch. "You had a bit of a... loopy afternoon." Plankton's gaze is a mix of confusion and alarm. "Loopy?" he repeats, his voice weak. "What do you mean, loopy?" He demands, embarrassed. Karen's smile returns, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Well," she says, her voice a soothing melody. "You were a bit... out of it. You had a bit of fun with the anesthesia." Plankton's face twists with embarrassment, his hand moving to cover his mouth. "Oh no," he whispers, his voice barely a breath. "What did I say?" His mind races with the potential humiliation. Karen laughs. "Don't worry, you were just a little out of it from the anesthesia," she reassures him, her touch gentle as she adjusts his pillows. "But I recorded some of it," she adds, mischief sparkling in her screen. Plankton's eye widens in horror. "Don't tell me I said anything... foolish," he pleads, his voice weak and thready. Karen's laughter fills the room. "Oh, Plankton," she says, her voice warm and loving. "You were just a bit... confused. Wanna see?" She hit the play button. The TV screen flickers to life, and Plankton's face fills the frame. He's drooling heavily, his expression a mix of wonder and bewilderment. Sponge Bob sits across from him. "I frew," Plankton says on the recording, his eye wide with disbelief. "Wike a birdie!" Plankton's face on the couch is surprised. “Why’s Sponge Bob…” He started, but trails off as the video continues. On the TV, a slurred version of his voice says, “They goth me all sleeby and thewe I wath flipping and twirling in the wathah!” "Oh no," he whispers from the couch. “I never…” Plankton stops as he sees himself on the screen lean closer to Sponge Bob. His heart races as his slurred words spill out. "I luv to thee youw," he says to Sponge Bob, his face a picture of drunken affection and drool. “You love to see me?” “Of couth, Squishy! Youw my bestest fwiend evar!” Plankton on the couch is speechless. His cheeks burn with embarrassment as he watches himself on screen, spoon wobbling, drooling, and spilling ice cream. The slurred words of love and friendship to Sponge Bob echo through the room, each syllable a cringe- worthy reminder of his drug-induced confession that he kept to himself, even from Karen. “Sweet Squishy. Ith time for nap?” “Let’s get you to the couch.” And the video ends after he snores. Plankton’s cheeks are a blaze of mortification. “You’re teasing me, right?” he asks, his voice hopeful despite the evidence on the screen. Karen’s laughter is like a warm embrace. “No, Plankton, you really said that,” she says, her screen twinkling. “But it’s okay, people say silly things when they’re coming out of anesthesia. It’s part of the experience!” Plankton groans, his face buried in his hands. The humiliation burns hotter than the pain in his mouth. “How could I have said that?” he mumbles into his palms. Karen laughs, the sound a gentle ripple in the quiet room. “It’s okay, Plankton. It was just the medicine talking. You don’t remember?” He lifts his head slowly, his cheeks still blazing with embarrassment. “No,” he mumbles, his voice muffled by his hands. “But I can’t believe I said that to Sponge Bob! You think I’d willingly…” Karen laughs, her eyes shining with affection. “It’s okay, Plankton. It’s all part of the fun of wisdom teeth surgery!”

SWEET CWEAM pt. 7 “So SpongeBob heard all of it?” He demands. Karen nods, her amusement obvious. "Everything. Even your snoring..” Plankton's face goes from flushed to beet-red. "I… what?" he asks, his voice tiny and ashamed. "You don't remember snoring?" Karen asks, barely keeping a straight face. "It was quite the symphony." Plankton's eye widened in horror. "Snoring?" he repeats, not wanting to believe it. "And in front of Sponge Bob?" Karen nods, her laughter bubbling over. "Oh, Plankton," she says, her voice full of affection. "It was the cutest..." "Cute? This isn't cute, Karen!" He interrupts, his voice rising in disbelief. The embarrassment is palpable in his tone. “And besides, I don’t snore!” Her laughter dies down to a chuckle. "Well, you did yesterday," she says, her eyes dancing with mirth. "Whether or not you do, you did." Plankton's face contorts in a mixture of denial and embarrassment. He can't believe what he's hearing, his mind reeling from the revelation. "But... I... snore?" he stammers, his voice a feeble protest. Karen nods, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "You sure did, Plankton," she says, her tone teasing. The color in his cheeks deepens to a crimson red, his eye wide with disbelief. "But... but I don't snore!" Karen's laughter rolls out like a wave, filling the room with warmth. "Maybe not usually," she says, her smile playful. "But yesterday, oh…" Plankton's mind races, trying to grasp the concept. "But how could I not know?" he asks, his voice a mix of indignation and confusion, a desperate whisper. "But I didn't really mean what’s been supposedly said, right?" His eye darts between her and the now-dark TV screen. "I was just... you know, saying things?" Karen's laughter softens into a warm smile. "You did mean it, Plankton," she says, her tone gentle. "At least your subconscious did. It's just the anesthesia that made it come out so... clearly." His face falls, his eye drooping. "So, it's true?" he whispers. The humiliation washes over him like a cold shower, his pride dampened by the knowledge that his deepest thoughts were laid bare for all to see, even if it was just Sponge Bob and his wife. Karen nods, her screen sparkling with amusement. "But it's nothing to be embarrassed about. It's just part of the anesthesia. And besides, you looked so cute and happy, not to mention snoring away.." Just then, SpongeBob comes back to check and visit. "Hi Plankton!" he says cheerfully, his voice like a trumpet in the quiet room. Plankton's head snaps up, his heart racing at the sight of his friend. "Thponge Bob," he slurs, his voice barely audible. "How uh, how are ya?" Sponge Bob's smile is warm and welcoming. "I'm great, Plankton! How are you feeling?" Plankton's eye darts to Karen, who's still smiling, before returning to his friend. "I'm... I'm ok," he mumbles, his voice barely above a whisper. The embarrassment of his earlier admission weighs heavily on his shoulders. Sponge Bob notices the change in his demeanor. "You don't seem like it," he says gently. "Is everything okay?" Plankton's throat is tight with nerves. He swallows hard, his eye darting to Karen and back. "I... I had a bit of a... a misunderstanding," he says, his words stumbling over each other like a tangled mess of seaweed. Sponge Bob's face is a canvas of curiosity. "A misunderstanding?" he repeats, his voice innocent. "What kind of misunderstanding?" Plankton's eye narrows slightly, his cheeks still flushed. "Well, I... I don't really remember much from after the surgery," he says, his voice a mix of apology and hope. "But Karen says I... I talked a lot." Sponge Bob's grin doesn't waver. "Oh, you sure did, Plankton!" he says, his voice filled with warmth. "You had some pretty interesting stories to tell." Plankton's eye darts to the floor, his cheeks blazing with embarrassment. "I'm sorry if I... if I said anything weird," he mumbles, his voice tiny and unsure. He's never been one to show his vulnerable side, especially to Sponge Bob, whose good nature he often finds infectious. Sponge Bob's face lights up like a jellyfish in the night. "Weird?" he repeats, his voice filled with innocence. "What do you mean, weird?" Plankton's eye darts around the room, anywhere but at Sponge Bob's gazing eyes. "I... I just meant, you know, things that might not make sense," he says, his voice trailing off. Sponge Bob nods slowly, his smile remaining in place. "Oh, I remember," he says, his voice soft and understanding. "You talked about flying and being a dolphin. It was like listening to a fairy tale!" Plankton's eye flutters shut with relief. "Oh," he breathes. "So I didn't say..." Sponge Bob's smile doesn't fade. "Well, you said you loved to see me," he says, his voice innocent. "But I knew if you meant it, Plankton. You're my best friend too!" Plankton's face is a whirlwind of emotions: embarrassment, relief, and a strange kind of warmth that spreads through his chest. He swallows hard, his throat thick with unspoken words. He's not one to be so open, but the medicine has clearly stripped him of his usual reserve. Karen watches the exchange with love. The rare moment of vulnerability and friendship was something she never knew Plankton was capable of showing. It was a side of him she had never seen before, and it was beautiful. "So, Plankton," Sponge Bob says, his grin as wide as his face, "You're a dolphin, huh? I never knew dolphins snored..” Plankton's face is a mask of horror. "You…" he croaks. Sponge Bob nods, his eyes twinkling. "It's okay, Plankton," he says, his voice soothing. "But it was really sweet to hear you s..." "Snoring?" Plankton interrupts, his voice higher than usual. "You heard me… snoring?" Karen nods, her screen shining with amusement. "But don't worry, it's all part of the recovery process. You needed that rest." Sponge Bob chuckles, his body wobbling with laughter. "It's okay, Plankton," he says, his voice a comfort. "Many people snore sometimes." Plankton's eye narrows slightly, his pride stinging. "But not me," he mumbles, his voice barely a murmur. "I'm not a snorer." Sponge Bob's laughter fills the room, his body wobbling with mirth. "Oh, but you were, Plankton! It was adorable!" Karen's smile is like a beam of sunlight cutting through the embarrassment. "It was, wasn't it?" she says, her voice chiming in with Sponge Bob's laughter. Plankton's face is a map of humiliation, but his mind is racing. He's not one to let his guard down, especially in front of Sponge Bob. "But...but... I'm not one to snore!" he protests weakly, his voice barely above a whisper. Karen's eyes crinkle with laughter. "Well, you did," she says, her voice teasing. "But don't worry, it's nothing to be ashamed of." Sponge Bob nods in agreement. "You looked so peaceful," he adds, his voice warm. Plankton's curiosity gets the better of him, yet not sure if he's ready for the answer. "Can I... can I see the video?" he asks, his voice tentative. Karen's laughter fades into a smile, and she nods, pulling out her phone. "But only if you promise not to get too embarrassed," she warns, her thumbs quickly navigating to the saved clip. The screen lights up with a sleeping Plankton, his snores like the gentle lapping of waves against the shore. Sponge Bob smiles quietly beside him, his body shaking in silent amusement. Plankton watches in horror, his eye wide as his snores echo through the room, his mouth hanging open. Karen hits pause, her smile still in place. "See?" she says, her voice soft. Plankton's cheeks burn with mortification. "I... I can't believe it," he stammers. "I... I snore?" Sponge Bob's laugh softens into a chuckle. "It's okay, Plankton," he says, his voice gentle. "We all have our moments." Plankton nods slowly, his face still flushed with embarrassment. He takes a deep breath, trying to reclaim some of his usual composure. "I... I guess you're right," he says, his voice a little stronger. Karen's smile doesn't waver. "Of course," she says, placing a hand on his. "Now, let's get some more ice cream.."

²

The Low After the High newwwwusername Summary: Plankton goes into a depressive episode after his volcano plan falls through Relationship: Karen/Sheldon J. Plankton Characters: Sheldon J. Plankton, Karen (SpongeBob) Plankton would regularly flipflop between emotions as far back as Karen could remember. "Sheldon?" Karen said cautiously. Plankton just groaned slightly, curling further into himself. Karen frowned and walked over, sitting down next to him. "Sheldon, hey" "What do you want?" "Are you okay?" she asked and that's when the man broke down in tears. She picked him up and held him in her arms, rubbing his back gently. "It's okay" she told him. "You're okay" "I failed..." "You didn't" she shook her head. "Something came up that you couldn't have foreseen" she reasoned. "You didn't fail" "I'm sorry" "Shhhh" she shushed. "No apologies, okay? I love you" ... "Yeah, I love you too" Stats: Published:2023-05-27

https://www.reddit.com/r/FullEpisodesOfSB/comments/1651tuc/spongebob_full_episode_index/

RIIZE IS 7!!! 🗣

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

ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰʸ ⁿᵉⁱᵍʰᵇᵒᵘʳ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ˢᵗᵃʸˢ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ "ᴵᵗ'ˡˡ ᵇᵉ ᶠᵘⁿ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ'ˢ ʰᵒᵘˢᵉ ⁿᵉᵉᵈᵉᵈ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ⁱᵐᵖʳᵒᵛᵉᵐᵉⁿᵗˢ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʷᵒʳᵏᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ‧ ᔆᵒ ʰᵉ'ˢ ˢᵗᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉʳᵉ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ˡᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵗᵃʸ ⁽ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ᵈⁱˢˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵒⁱˢᵉ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳᵏ⁾ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵈᵒᵉˢⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵗᵒ ⁱⁿᶜˡᵘᵈᵉ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴳᵃʳʸ ᵗʰᵉ ˢⁿᵃⁱˡ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᶜʳᵃˢʰᵉˢ ʰᵉʳᵉ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ ˡⁱᵏᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᵖˡᵃʸ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ⸴ ᵐʸ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ'ˢ ᵖᵘᵖᵖʸ‧ ᴵ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵏᵉᵉᵖ ᵃⁿ ᵉʸᵉ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉᵐ⸴ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵉᵃˢⁱˡʸ ᵃⁿᵍʳʸ ʷʰᵉⁿ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵃⁿⁿᵒʸˢ ʰⁱᵐ⸴ ᵃᵇˡᵉⁱˢᵗ ᵘⁿⁱⁿᵗᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿᵃˡˡʸ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᵉᵃᶜʰ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ʷᵉˡˡ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉ ᵃᵗ ᵒᵈᵈˢ ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵒʳᵏˢ ᶠᵒʳ ᵖˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵉⁿᵉᵐʸ⸴ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵖᵘᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʷʳᵒⁿᵍ ʷᵃʸ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ᵒᵖᵖᵒˢⁱᵗᵉˢ ᵃᵗᵗʳᵃᶜᵗ⸴ ᵐᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢʰⁱᵖ ᵈʸⁿᵃᵐⁱᶜ ᵈᵘᵒ ʷᵒʳᵏ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ⁿⁱᶜᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵃˡˡ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵇᵉ ⁿⁱᶜᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ᵖˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ᴵ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵏⁿᵒʷˢ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵃ ᵖᵃᶜⁱᶠⁱˢᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵏⁿᵒʷˢ ᵖˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵍᵉʳ ⁱˢˢᵘᵉˢ ᔆᵒ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᶜᵃⁿ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵘᵖ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᶜᵒᵐᵖʳᵒᵐⁱˢᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗ ᶻᵒⁿᵉˢ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵏⁿᵒʷˢ ʰᵉ ʳᵃʳᵉˡʸ ᵒᵖᵉⁿˢ ᵘᵖ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ᵒⁿᶜᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ʷʰⁱˡᵉ ᵈᵒᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵐᵉ ᵒʳ ʰⁱˢ ᵍʳᵃⁿᵈᵐᵃ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ʰᵃˢ ˡⁱᵐⁱᵗˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᵏⁿᵒʷˢ ⁱᵗ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵖˡᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵗˢ ʷʰᵉⁿ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵗᵘᵇᵇᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵗᵒᵉ ᵒⁿ ᵃ ʳᵒᶜᵏ‧ "ᵂᵃᵗᶜʰ ᵒᵘᵗ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵒᵒˡ!" ʸᵉˡˡᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃˢ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵒᶜᵏ ᵒᶠᶠ‧ ᴵᵗˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ʷᵃʸ ᵒᶠ ˢʰᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ ᶜᵃʳᵉˢ ᴵ ᵍᵘᵉˢˢ‧ ᵂᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ⁱᶜᵉ ᵘⁿᵗⁱˡ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵗˢ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ⁱⁿˢⁱᵈᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵏⁱˢˢᵉˢ‧ "ᴱᵃˢʸ⸴ ᵇᵒʸ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵗᵉˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵖᵒᵗ⸴ ʰᵒˡᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵐᵒᵉᵇᵃ‧ ᴺᵒʷ ʰᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵒᶠ ᵃ ʰᵘᵍᵍᵉʳ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢⁿᵘᵍᵍˡᵉˢ ʷⁱᵗʰ ˢᵖᵒᵗ; ʰᵉ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵈᵒᵉˢ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ⸴ ᵃᵗ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ˡᵉⁿᵍᵗʰ ᵒᶠ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ‧ ᴵ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵘᵍᵍᵉˢᵗ ᵃ ᵇᵒᵃʳᵈ ᵍᵃᵐᵉ⸴ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ᵐʸ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵉᵗⁱᵗⁱᵛᵉ ⁿᵃᵗᵘʳᵉ‧ ᴵ ʷᵃˢ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᶠᵒᵒᵈ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ʰᵉˡᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵃ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ‧ "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵃⁿᵃˡʸˢᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉᶜⁱᵖᵉ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ʸᵒᵘ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵃᵗ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵃ ᵗᵃˢᵗᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵉˡⁱᶜⁱᵒᵘˢⁿᵉˢˢ‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ "ᴮᵘᵗ ⁱᶠ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ‧‧‧" "ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ʰᵉʳᵉ; ᵇᵉˢⁱᵈᵉˢ⸴ ʷᵉ'ʳᵉ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵉᵃᵗⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᵗ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗ ʳᵉᵛᵉᵃˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵒʳᵐᵘˡᵃ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ⸴ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ ᵇᵃʳⁿᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ˡⁱᶠᵉ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ˢᵖˡⁱᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ⸴ ᵉᵃᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸ ˡᵃˢᵗ ᵐᵒʳˢᵉˡ! "ᵀʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵒ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵏⁱᵈ‧‧‧" ᴵ ˢᵃʷ ʰᵒʷ ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉʳᵉ ʰᵉ'ˢ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵍʳᵃᵗⁱᵗᵘᵈᵉ⸴ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʳᵃʳᵉˡʸ ˢᵒ ᵃᶠᶠᵉᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿᵃᵗᵉˡʸ ˢʰᵒʷˢ ᵃᵖᵖʳᵉᶜⁱᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ‧ ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵉᵃᵗⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒʸˢ ᵖᵘˡˡᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘᶜʰ ⁱⁿ ᶠʳᵒⁿᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵉˡᵉᵛⁱˢⁱᵒⁿ‧ ᔆᵉᵃᵗᵉᵈ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ᵇʸ ˢⁱᵈᵉ⸴ ᵗʰᵉʸ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴳᵃʳʸ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉˢᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧ "ᴷⁱᵈ⸴ ᵈᵒᵉˢ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵇᵒˢˢ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʰⁱᵐ ᴵ'ᵈ ᵇᵉ ˢᵗᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ⸴ ˢᵒ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵒʳʳʸ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵖˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ˡᵉᵃⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉʳ‧ "ᵂᵃⁱᵗ⸴ ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ! ᵂʰᵃᵗ‧‧‧" "ᵀᵉˡˡ ʰⁱᵐ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ᵇᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵃ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵃᵗ ᵃⁿ ⁱⁿⁿ‽" ᴵ ˢᵘᵍᵍᵉˢᵗᵉᵈ‧ ᵂᵉ ᵃˡˡ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ ⁱᶠ ʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰⁱˢ ˡᵒʸᵃˡ ʷᵒʳᵏᵉʳ ˢᵗᵃʸᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ⸴ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ⁱᶠ ⁱⁿ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᶜⁱʳᶜᵘᵐˢᵗᵃⁿᶜᵉˢ‧ ᴵᵗ'ᵈ ᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ʳⁱˢᵏ ᵒᶠ ᵗʳᵒᵘᵇˡᵉ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ⁱᵗˢ ʷᵒʳᵗʰ! ᴼⁿˡʸ ⁱᵐᵃᵍⁱⁿᵉ ⁱᶠ ʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᶜⁱᵛⁱˡ ᵗᵒ ᵖˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵃˡˢᵒ ˢʰᵃʳᵉᵈ ᵃ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ‧‧‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉˢ ʰᵒʷ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ⁿⁱᶜᵉ⸴ ⁿᵒ ᵐᵃᵗᵗᵉʳ ʷʰᵃᵗ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵃᵖᵖʳᵒᵛᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵏᵉᵉᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵃᶜᵉ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉʸ'ʳᵉ ᵃᵗ ᵒᵈᵈˢ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵃⁿᵈˢ ʰⁱˢ ˡᵒʸᵃˡᵗʸ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ⸴ ᵃˡᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵉˢⁿ'ᵗ ᵃᵍʳᵉᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ⁱᵗ‧ ᴴⁱˢ ᵍᵒᵃˡ ⁱⁿ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ⁱˢ ˢʰᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳˡᵈ ʰᵒʷ ᵍʳᵉᵃᵗ ʰᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵒⁿ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᶜᵃᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵐᵒᵘˢᵉ ᵍᵃᵐᵉ‧ ᴵ ʷᵃˢ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ⁱᵗ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʳᵒᵍʳᵃᵐᵐᵉ ᵉⁿᵈᵉᵈ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵉˡᵉᵛⁱˢⁱᵒⁿ‧ ᴵ ʷʰⁱˢᵖᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ "ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒ ᵗᵒ ᵃᵗᵗᵉⁿᵈ ʷᵒʳᵏ‧‧‧" "ᴵᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵃʳʳⁱᵛᵉ ᵃᵗ ⁸ ᵒ'ᶜˡᵒᶜᵏ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵐ‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᑫᵘⁱᵉᵗˡʸ ᵃⁿˢʷᵉʳᵉᵈ⸴ ˢᵒ ᵃˢ ᵗᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵗⁱʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ʷʰᵒ ˡᵉᵃⁿᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱᵐ ᵘⁿᵃʷᵃʳᵉˢ‧ ᴼⁿˡʸ ᵐᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵃᵗ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉⁿᵈ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʳᵒᵍʳᵃᵐᵐᵉ‧ ᴼʰ ʰᵒʷ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈⁿ'ᵗ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ⁱᵗ; ᴵ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶜʰᵘᶜᵏˡᵉ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱᵐ ᶠᵘʳⁱᵒᵘˢ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢⁱᵍʰᵗ‧ "ᴴᵒʷ'ˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵒᵉ?" ᴵ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ‧ "ᵂᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ‧‧‧" "ᴵˡˡ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵃ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᵃᵗ ᵐʸ ᵗᵒᵉ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ˢᵃⁱᵈ⸴ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˡıᵉ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗᵃᵇˡʸ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵖˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵃ̊ʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿˢᵗ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᵂʰᵃᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ⁱˢ ⁱᵗ?" ᴵ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᵖˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʸ⸴ ʳᵒᵘˢⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ "ᴼʰ⸴ ᴵ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵃᵗ ʷᵒʳᵏ! ᴰᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ˢᵘˢᵖⁱᶜⁱᵒᵘˢ⸴ ⁿᵒʳ ᵇᵉ ˡᵃᵗᵉ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵗᵒᵉ‧ "ᵂʰᵃᵗ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵒᵉ?" ᴵ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ ᴴᵉ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏᵉᵈ ⁱᵗ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵒ ʳᵉᵈⁿᵉˢˢ‧ "ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ ᵍᵒ ᵉᵃˢʸ ᵒⁿ ⁱᵗ‧" "ᵂⁱˡˡ ᵈᵒ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˡᵉᶠᵗ‧ "ᴸᵃˢᵗ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ʳᵉᶜᵃˡˡ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵐᵃⁱⁿ ᶠᵒᶜᵘˢˢᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᶜʳᵉᵉⁿ ᵇʸ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵃˡᶠ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʳᵒᵍʳᵃᵐᵐᵉ!" ᴵ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳʲᵉᶜᵗᵉᵈ⸴ ʳᵉᵍʳᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᵗ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵃˢ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᴵ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ⁱᵗ; ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ʰᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵃᵈᵐⁱᵗ ᵛᵘˡⁿᵉʳᵃᵇⁱˡⁱᵗʸ‧ ᴬˢ ʷᵃˡᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵗˢ⸴ ᴵ ᵘˢᵉᵈ ᵐʸ ˢᵘᵖᵉʳᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ᵈᵉᵗᵉᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ ʰᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ‧ "ᵂʰʸ ʸᵉ ˡⁱᵐᵖⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᵇᵒⁱ?" "ᴵ ᵗʳⁱᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃʸ ʰᵉʳᵉ⸴ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᴵ ʳᵃⁿ ᵗᵒ ᶠᵃˢᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ˡᵒᵒᵏⁱⁿᵍ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᴵ ʷᵃˢ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ‧‧‧" ᴺⁱᶜᵉ ˢᵃᵛᵉ⸴ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ "ᴶᵉˢᵗ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ˢᵘʳᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳᶠᵉʳᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵍᵒᵗ ⁱᵗ⸴ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ; ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ'ˢ ᶠⁱⁿᵉ!" ᴼᶠ ᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ⸴ ʷᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃⁿʸ ᶜᵘˢᵗᵒᵐᵉʳˢ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧ ᴼⁿˡʸ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵘⁿᵘˢᵘᵃˡ ⁽ⁱᶠ ᵃⁿʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ⁾ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗʳᵉˢˢᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ˡᵃᶜᵏ ᵒᶠ ᵇᵘˢⁱⁿᵉˢˢ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ⸴ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵘᵖ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵒ ʷⁱᵗʰ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ʷᵒʳᵏ‧ "ᴸᵉᵗ'ˢ ˢᵉᵉ; ʰᵉ ˡⁱᵏᵉˢ ʲᵉˡˡʸᶠⁱˢʰ⸴ ᵏᵃʳᵃᵗᵉ⸴ ᵐᵉʳᵐᵃⁱᵈ ᵐᵃⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵇᵃʳⁿᵃᶜˡᵉ ᵇᵒʸ‧‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ʰᵉ ᵍᵉᵗˢ ᵒᶠᶠ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵉᵛᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍˢ; ʰᵉ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵗᵒ ʷᵒʳⁿ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵖˡᵃʸ⸴ ᵃˡᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᵃᵖᵖʳᵉᶜⁱᵃᵗᵉ ⁱᵗ!" "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʲᵘᵐᵖᵉᵈ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗˡᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ᵏⁿᵒᶜᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᶠʳᵒⁿᵗ ᵈᵒᵒʳ‧ ᵂʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ᵈᵒⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉʳᵉ‧‧‧ "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ʰᵉʳᵉ⸴ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ʰⁱˢ ˢʰⁱᶠᵗ‧ ᵁⁿˡᵉˢˢ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ʰᵉʳᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ˡᵘⁿᶜʰ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ "ᴼʰ⸴ ʰᵉ'ˢ ˢᵗᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉʳᵉ? ᴵ ʷᵃˢ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃ ˢᵘʳᵖʳⁱˢᵉ ᵐᵉᵃˡ‧ ᴵ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʰᵉ'ˢ ˢᵗᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘ!" ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ˢʰᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᶠᵃᶜᵉ‧ ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵃᶜʳᵒˢˢ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵗʳᵉᵉᵗ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵏᵉᵖᵗ ᵒⁿ ᵇʳᵃⁱⁿˢᵗᵒʳᵐⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵈᵒ‧ ᴼⁿᶜᵉ ʰⁱˢ ˢʰⁱᶠᵗ ᵉⁿᵈᵉᵈ⸴ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ʷᵃⁱᵗᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵃˢᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᶜˡᵉᵃʳ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʰᵉᵃᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ʰᵉʳᵉ‧ "ᴾʰᵉʷ; ˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵈᵃʸ ᵒⁿ ᵐʸ ᶠᵉᵉᵗ⸴ ᵃˡˡ ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ ᵃᵛᵒⁱᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵘⁿᵈᵘᵉ ᵘˢᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵐʸ ᵗᵒᵉ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵍᵒᵗ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʰᵉ ʷᵒʳᵏᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃˡˡ ᵈᵃʸ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵗᵘʳⁿ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘᶜʰ‧ "ᴵ ᵍᵘᵉˢˢ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵗᵒ ᶠᵃˡˡ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵗᵒⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧‧‧" ᴵ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᴶᵘˢᵗ ᵗʰᵉⁿ⸴ ᵃ ᶜᵒᵐᵐᵒᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵒᶜᶜᵘʳʳᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗᵈᵒᵒʳˢ ⁱⁿ ᶠʳᵒⁿᵗ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ⁱⁿᵛᵉˢᵗⁱᵍᵃᵗᵉ⸴ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ‧‧‧ ᴵ ᵍᵘᵉˢˢ ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ᵇˡᵃᵇᵇᵉᵈ; ⁱᵗ ʷᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵉⁿᵈ ʷᵉˡˡ‧ "ᴾᴸᴬᴺᴷᵀᴼᴺ‽" ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᶜʳᵉᵃᵐᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᶠᵘʳʸ⸴ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ᵃʷᵒᵏᵉ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵘⁿᵇᵉᵏⁿᵒʷⁿˢᵗ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᴹʸ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵃᵗ ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ‧ "ᴳᵉᵗ ˡᵒˢᵗ⸴ ᴾᵃᵗ‧‧‧" "ᴵ'ᵐ ᵗᵃˡᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘ!" ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᴺᵒʷ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ'ˢ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰⁱⁿᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐᵉ‧ "ᶻⁱᵖ ⁱᵗ⸴ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ; ʰᵉ'ˢ ʳᵉˢᵗⁱⁿᵍ!" "ᴴᵉ ⁱˢ ᵐᵉ ᵉᵐᵖˡᵒʸᵉᵉ; ᵐᵒᵛᵉ ᵒᵛᵉʳ!" "ᴴᵉ ⁿᵉᵉᵈˢ ᵖᵉᵃᶜᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᑫᵘⁱᵉᵗ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˡᵒᵘᵈ‧‧‧ "ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ⸴ ᴵ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʸᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵉᵖ ᵃˢⁱᵈᵉ!" "ᵂᵉˡˡ ᴵ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ‧‧‧" "ᴵˡˡ ᶜʳᵘˢʰ ʸᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵐⁱᵗʰᵉʳᵒᵒⁿˢ ᔆʰᵉˡ‧‧‧" "ᴺᵒ! ᴴᵉ'ˢ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜˡᵒᶜᵏ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ'ᵐ ˡᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵗᵃʸ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ʰᵃᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ˡⁱᵐᵖ ᵃˡˡ ᵈᵃʸ⸴ ˢᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ ʰᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵈᵒ‧‧‧" "ᴴᵉ'ˢ ˡⁱᵐᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ʰᵉ'ˢ ˢᵒʳᵉ‧‧‧" "ᴱⁱᵗʰᵉʳ ʷᵃʸ ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵖᵘⁿⁱˢʰ ʰⁱᵐ⸴ ᶠᵒʳ ʰᵉ ᶠʳᵃᵗᵉʳⁿⁱᶻᵉ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ˡᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ‧‧‧" "ᵂᵉˡˡ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᴵ ᶠᴵᴿᴱ ᴴᴵᴹ!" ᵂᵉ ᵃˡˡ ˢⁱˡᵉⁿᵗˡʸ ˢᵗᵒᵒᵈ ⁱⁿ ˢʰᵒᶜᵏ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉᶜʰᵒ ᵒᶠ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ⸴ ʷⁱᵗʰ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷʰⁱᵐᵖᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᵂᵉ ᵃˡˡ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ ᵖˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ᶜʰᵒᵒˢᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵃᵗᵉ‧‧‧ "ᴸⁱˢᵗᵉⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ⸴ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ; ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ˡᵒᵛᵉˢ ʰⁱˢ ʲᵒᵇ ᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʳᵉˢᵗᵃᵘʳᵃⁿᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ‧‧‧" ᴵ ˢᵃʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵗᵉᵃʳʸ ᵉʸᵉᵈ ⁿᵒʷ‧‧‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ˢᶜᵒʳᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵗᵗˡᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐᵉ⸴ ᵍᵃᵐᵉ ᵒⁿ; ᵇᵘᵗ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ⁿᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵏⁱⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵉⁱᵗʰᵉʳ ᵒᶠ ᵘˢ ᵃᵗ ᵒᵘʳ ʷᵒʳˢᵗ! ᴴᵒʷ ᵈᵃʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧" "ᔆⁱⁿᶜᵉ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵈᵒ‧‧‧" "ᵂᴱ ᴬᴿᴱ ᶠᴿᴵᴱᴺᴰᔆ⸴ ᴬᴺᴰ ᴴᴱ ᴰᴼᴱᔆᴺ'ᵀ ᴰᴱᔆᴱᴿⱽᴱ ᴱᴵᵀᴴᴱᴿ ᴼᶠ ᵁᔆ!" ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵗᵒᵐᵖᵉᵈ⸴ ʰᵃʳᵈ‧ "ᵂʰʸ ᵃʳᵉⁿ'ᵗ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᴿᴬᵀᴴᴱᴿ ᵀᴬᴷᴱ ᵀᴴᴱ ᴮᴸᴬᶜᴷ ᴱʸᴱ ᵀᴴᴬᴺ ᵀᴼ ᴴᴬⱽᴱ ᴹʸ ᶠᴿᴵᴱᴺᴰ ᶠᴵᴿᴱᴰ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜʳⁱᵉᵈ⸴ ᵃˢ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵃʷ ʰⁱᵐ ʷⁱˡˡⁱⁿᵍˡʸ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ᴬ ᶠⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ‧ "ᴳᵒ ᵃʰᵉᵃᵈ⸴ ᵉᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ‧ ᔆᑫᵘᵃˢʰ ᵐᵉ ᵃˢ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵉᵗ ⁱᵗ ᵐᵉᵃⁿ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧‧‧" ᴶᵘˢᵗ ᵗʰᵉⁿ⸴ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵖⁱᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵖˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ʷʰᵒ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ˢᵒʳᵉ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵗᵒᵉ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ˢᵗᵘᵇᵇᵉᵈ ⁱᵗ‧ ᴵⁿ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ⸴ ʰᵉ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᴱᵛᵉⁿ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵃʷ ᵖˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉʳⁱᵗʸ ⁱⁿ ᵍⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ʰⁱˢ ˡⁱᶠᵉ'ˢ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ ᴺᵉᵛᵉʳ ʰᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ ᵃⁿʸ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ ᵃ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ⸴ ᵘⁿᵗⁱˡ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ‧

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꒰꒱

riize is seven! heres some things to use for ur profile/display name ｒｉｉ７ｅ ʳⁱⁱᶻᵉ ⁱˢ ˢᵉᵛᵉⁿ 𝗿𝗶𝗶𝘇𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝘀𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻 𝙧𝙞𝙞𝙯𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣 r̲i̲i̲z̲e̲ ̲i̲s̲ ̲s̲e̲v̲e̲n̲ 𝚛𝚒𝚒𝚣𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝟽⑦⓻𝟟➐7️⃣

Plankton's Hardest Lesson by AndyIsConfused As Spongebob fell to the Krusty Krab floor, Plankton knew he'd gone too far. Many of his schemes before were tricking the sponge into trusting him, but never had he caused physical harm to. Plankton felt his heart sink and tears fill his eye as Spongebob spoke, "But… We were supposed to be… friends forever…" He said before his legs gave in and he landed on his side. All at once, Sheldon was hit with memories. Memories of times the optimistic Sponge had been kind and friendly with him, despite all his schemes. Hugs, cookies, smiles, even being lifted higher to see what was happening. All the times Plankton was greeted happily, despite how the entire town treated him in contrast. And all the times Spongebob has swallowed his food, smiling pretending to enjoy it, even if it was a lie. No. This wasn't what he wanted. He wanted a popular restaurant, to be respected, revenge on Krabs. But Spongebob hadn't done anything wrong, he wasn't his target. He felt sick to his stomach as he heard a cry from a familiar friend of the delightful sponge, Patrick, had come to visit his friend, only to see him on the floor, and could only freeze as he watched the events unfold, Patrick running to Spongebob. He was sure that the star was screaming, but Plankton couldn't focus, only the way it sounded, shaking him to his very core. That sound… the pain in his cry. It was horrific. He never heard anything like it. Squidward ran in, followed by Mr. Krabs, Squidward frantically calling an ambulance as Eugene picked plankton up. "Krabs, I can explain! I never meant-... I didn't know he was-" "I see what you're willing to lose for your revenge, now." Eugene's voice was monotone as he popped Sheldon into a glass bottle. Patrick fell to his hands and knees, shaking and crying. After collecting themselves as best as they could, they all walked to the hospital. Plankton being forced to confront what he'd done by Eugene Krabs, himself. In a glass bottle on a lamp table in a hospital waiting room. He looked around before he glanced up to see his nemesis glaring daggers into him, "So… uh… Pretty cloudy today, huh, Krabs?" "I want you to explain yourself. Revenge against me didn't need to involve the kid." He knocked the bottle to its side, making Sheldon fall over with it. Sheldon sighed, "My intention wasn't ever to hurt the boy, Krabs. He's a dumb little angel. My intention was to… I-... I was trying to break into your safe and he got in the way. I panicked! That little idiot was gonna call the cops again and I just wanted him to stop, forever!" He realized what he'd said as he said it. What in this blue ocean had he become? When did the life of a young adult become less of a priority than his revenge? He ran his hands along his antennae, "I… never wanted to hurt that sweet idiot, Krabs…" "You're so full of it!" Sandy, trudging over to Plankton, lifting his container to her face so she could look him in the eye, "You got caught and your first instinct is to hurt the nicest creature in the ocean? After all the love he gives you?" She was tearing up, "Spongebob had plans for your birthday! He has your christmas gifts for the next six years in his closet the same as everyone else in Bikini Bottom!" She turned to the nearest wall and brought her arm back. Plankton knew he was about to be thrown, but a tentacle on her wrist stopped her from throwing. "Sandy… What would he say if he could see you, right now?" Squidward's voice was calm, but also tight, like it was stuck in his throat so he wouldn't cry. "When's Spongebob coming out?" Asked the pink starfish, "We… We have to see Mermaid Man tonight. He promised." He looked to squidward who sighed and sat next to him, patting his back, wordlessly. Patrick curled his legs into his chair to hug them before burying his face, "I miss Spongebob!" He cried as his two friends did their best to comfort him. Plankton stayed seated in his confinement, this time, looking to Mr. Krabs, "I… Don't know how to fix this, Krabs." Eugene looked at him with a shocked expression, "Fix? You can't fix this… But you can stay here and watch how much this action of yours hurts the folks around him. Feel bad. Be ashamed. Maybe then I'll know you're not a complete monster." Plankton nodded before looking away from everyone. He… wanted to apologize to spongebob. But he wasn't sure if he'd ever get the chance. Plankton felt sick. His stomach flipped and turned before he remembered, something, "Hey… Psst! Hey, Squid! HEY!" Squidward lifted his head from Patrick's shoulder, wiping drool from the Starfish's mouth and making a disgusted face as he ran his tentacle along the back of a nearby lamp. He turned to Plankton, "What?" He whispered with a hiss, "If you wake this pink idiot, I'm shaking you until you stop moving!" Hostility. Fair, given what Plankton had done to Spongebob. "Uh… The sponge. He has a pet, right?" Plankton cleared his throat and gulped, "I don't remember what it is, but I know he has one. He's constantly gushing about it." "Gary, a snail." Squidward sighed and lifted the bottle to eye level, "Why do you care?" Plankton was a little stumped at the question, "I… Um… I don't kn-" "Yes, you do!" Squid interrupted, "Just spit it out." "Fine!...." Sheldon rubbed his face and groaned, "The kid… He's a good guy. He never hurts anyone. Maybe he's misunderstandings, but… He's good… And I made some stupid robot… do what it did. And I didn't even understand what I meant when I said destroy until I saw… It lasted too long and then he… was on the floor…" Plankton covered his mouth, his body was quivering. He took a deep breath before he touched his cheek. When… When had he started crying? "So it really was just an accident." Squid seemed to be less shocked about this than he should be, "Because I'll rip off your antennae, squish you until my leg is tired, and Spongebob is the only bright part of my life. That little idiot is my sunshine. Do you understand?" Plankton nodded at this before Squidward placed him back on the table. He watched him lay his head back, cross his arms, and go back to sleep. He felt strange that he was less worried about his own demise and more worried about the kid. He hoped Spongebob survived… He hoped he could apologize, to be there during his recovery to take care of him… Only Spongebob would have enough heart to give him another chance. He didn't deserve one. He knew that, but… Spongebob deserves a long life, only ending in old age. Plankton needed to stay awake until the doctor returned with news. Sheldon wasn't sure when it was that he finally fell asleep like the others, but his dream was riddled with guilt. He wasn't replaying the event over and over. That wasn't really how dreams even worked. No. It had himself and Spongebob, but that was about the only similarity to real life. He seemed to be running to the boy, in his nightmare. Attempting to catch up to him and stop him. The young man was over the edge of a cliff and looking down. He tried to scream to catch his attention, but not only was he too far and not gaining any momentum, he was too small for the young man to even hear. This seemed like a hopeless scenario. It only ended when the dream Spongebob turned to face Plankton. "Wake up." Said the voice. But… it didn't belong to Spongebob. That sounded like… Krabs? He awoke with a start, heart pounding in his chest and hands shaking, "Wh-What's going on." He asked before he noticed the man in the white coat and stethoscope, "Oh... " There were only two possible answers to expect, "Is he-...?" "He's alive. He should make a full recovery." Interrupted the deep voiced man. Plankton sighed with relief, "However… None of this is going to be cheap." For the first time since knowing the red crab, Plankton was shocked at what his nemesis said next, "Talk to me about the money issues. The boy ain't got enough to survive on, much less afford medical care." Sheldon blinked his eye in disbelief, "You… You're serious? No! No way! This is my fault, I should-" "You have a failing business, Plankton." Eugene interrupted, "You ain't gonna afford squat." "I'll sell machines. Devices!" Sheldon insisted, standing in his bottle, "I can't do nothing! I did this!" His volume rose, voice cracking. Eugene sighed, "Fine… Fine. You can help if the kid doesn't press charges." Sandy cleared her throat, "He won't. We all know that." The group nodded. Spongebob was far too kind. Mr. Krabs pulled back the curtain to reveal a very pale Spongebob. Plankton felt his gut twist again, "The Squid stole your house keys, Squarepants." Plankton said before really even realizing he was speaking. A very soft and raspy laugh escaped the sponge, "I gave them to him. He's going to take Gary to his house until I'm better again." That smile. Even after all this, the kid was smiling. How can he be so optimistic? He watched the sponge look to Krabs, "Hi, Mr. Krabs. S-Sorry I can't work for a bit." It was at those words when the stoic crab began to lose his composure, Krabs sat on the bed, "Don't be blaming yourself, you hear? Just focus on being my frycook, again… okay?" His voice wavered as he gently touched the boy's shoulder. "Okay, Mr. Krabs. I'll do my best." He promised. "I know you will, lad. I know." Eugene said as he stood back up, setting Plankton down on Spongebob's bedside table. Cartoons » SpongeBob SquarePants English, Angst & Drama, Words: 2k+ Sep 27 2020

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ᔆᵖᵒᵗ'ˢ ᴬᵛᵉʳᵃᵍᵉ ᴰᵃʸ ᴹʸ ⁿᵃᵐᵉ'ˢ ˢᵖᵒᵗ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ'ᵐ ᵃⁿ ᵃᵐᵒᵉᵇᵃ ᵖᵘᵖᵖʸ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒʷⁿᵉʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵐʸ ᵇᵉˢᵗ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ⸴ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵐᵃʳʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ᵇⁱᶜᵏᵉʳ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉⁿᵈ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃʸ ᵗʰᵉʸ'ʳᵉ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵒⁿ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᵗᵉʳᵐˢ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵃⁿ ⁱⁿᵛᵉⁿᵗᵒʳ ᵒᶠ ˢᶜⁱᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵘⁿˢᵘᶜᶜᵉˢˢᶠᵘˡ ʳᵉˢᵗᵃᵘʳᵃⁿᵗ ᵇᵘˢⁱⁿᵉˢˢᵐᵃⁿ ⁱⁿ ᶠᵒᵒᵈ ⁱⁿᵈᵘˢᵗʳʸ‧ ᴴᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵒⁿ ˢʰᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᶠᶠᵉᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ ᶠᵒʳ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ˡᵒᵛᵉˢ ᵒᵘʳ ᶠᵃᵐⁱˡʸ‧ ᴬˢ ᵉˣᵖᵉᶜᵗᵉᵈ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵛᵉʳᵃᵍᵉ ᵈᵃʸ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗˢ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴬˡᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ⁿᵒᵗ ⁿᵉᶜᵉˢˢᵃʳⁱˡʸ ᶜᵘᵈᵈˡʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵈᵒᵉˢ ˢⁿᵘᵍᵍˡᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐᵉ! ᵀʰᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ʷᵉ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵛᵃʳⁱᵉˢ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᴵ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ⁱⁿ‧ ᴵᶠ ᴵ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵇᵉᵈ ᵉᵃʳˡⁱᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵒʳᵐ⸴ ᴵ'ˡˡ ˡⁱᶜᵏ ᵏⁱˢˢᵉˢ ʰⁱᵐ ⁱᶠ ⁿᵘᵈᵍⁱⁿᵍ ᵈᵒᵉˢⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵒʳᵏ‧ ᴵᵗ'ˢ ʳᵃʳᵉ ⁱᶠ ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ᵇᵉᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᴵ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵃᵐ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵐᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ‧ ᴵ ᵍᵉᵗ ᶠᵉᵈ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵏᶠᵃˢᵗ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵈᵒᵒʳˢ‧ ᔆⁱⁿᶜᵉ ʷᵉ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵇᵘˢⁱⁿᵉˢˢ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ˢᵖᵉⁿᵈˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃʸ ʷᵒʳᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ᵉˣᵖᵉʳⁱᵐᵉⁿᵗˢ⸴ ᵐᵒˢᵗ ᵒᶠ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ⁱⁿᵛᵒˡᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ⁱˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒʷⁿᵉʳ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᴷʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᴷʳᵃᵇ ʳᵉˢᵗᵃᵘʳᵃⁿᵗ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍʳᵉᵃᵗᵉˢᵗ ʳⁱᵛᵃˡ ᵒᶠ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᶠᵒʳᵐᵃˡˡʸ ᵐᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵃⁿ ᵉⁿᵉᵐʸ‧ ᴴⁱˢ ᵉᵐᵖˡᵒʸᵉᵉˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ ᵂᵉ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳᵃᶜᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵐᵘᶜʰ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵒⁿ ˢᵒᵐᵉʷʰᵃᵗ ᵈᵉᶜᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵉʳᵐˢ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᴮᵒᵇ ᵈᵉˢᵖⁱᵗᵉ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵗ ᵒᵈᵈˢ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ʳᵉˢᵗᵃᵘʳᵃⁿᵗ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵖᵉᵗ ˢⁿᵃⁱˡ ᴳᵃʳʸ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ʰᵃⁿᵍˢ ᵒᵘᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐᵉ! ᴮᵘᵗ ᵐᵒˢᵗ ʷᵉᵉᵏᵈᵃʸˢ ⁱⁿᵛᵒˡᵛᵉ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵉᶜʳᵉᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵃᵇᵇʸ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ! ᵀʰᵉ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ˢᵉᶜʳᵉᵗ'ˢ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ᵇᵒᵗᵗˡᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᵛᵃᵘˡᵗ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ ⁱᵗˢᵉˡᶠ ⁱˢ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵒʷⁿᵉʳ'ˢ ᵃ ˢᶜⁱᵉⁿᵗⁱˢᵗ! ᔆᵒᵐᵉ ᵒᶠ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵖˡᵃⁿˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵒⁿ ᵃ ʷʰⁱᵐ ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵈʳᵃʷⁿ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ‧ ᴬˡᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ʰᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ᵇⁱᵗᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗᵃᵘⁿᵗˢ ʰⁱᵐ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ᶠᵃⁱˡˢ⸴ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵃᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ʳᵉˢᵒʳᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵘⁿ ᵒᵘᵗʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᶜᵒⁿˢⁱᵈᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵘˡˡʸⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ⁱᵗ!ᴬˡᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵃⁿᵍʳʸ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ⁱⁿ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ! ᴴᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ⁱⁿʲᵘʳᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵃᵈ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ʰᵃʳᵈ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᶠˡʸ ⁱⁿ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰʳᵒʷⁿ ᵇʸ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ‧ ᴵᶠ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿⁿᵒᵗ ᶜʰᵉᵉʳ ʰⁱᵐ ᵘᵖ ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴵ'ˡˡ ʷᵃᵍ ᵐʸ ᵗᵃⁱˡ ˢᵃᵈˡʸ ᵃᵗ ᵉᵃᶜʰ ʳᵉᵗᵘʳⁿ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ‧ ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ʷᵃˡᵏⁱᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃʳᵏ⸴ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ʷᵉ ᵐᵉᵉᵗ ᴳᵃʳʸ ˢᵒ ᵃˢ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉˣᵉʳᶜⁱˢᵉ ᵗᵒᵍᵉᵗʰᵉʳ! ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃʳᵇᵒᵘʳ ᵃⁿʸ ʰᵃʳᵈ ᶠᵉᵉˡⁱⁿᵍˢ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡˡᵒʷ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵉˢ ᵃᶜᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ˡᵒʸᵃˡᵗʸ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵃᵇ‧ ᴱᵛᵉⁿ ˢᵒ⸴ ʰᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᵃᵗᵗᵉᵐᵖᵗ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ᶜᵒᵐᵐᵒⁿ ᵍʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿ ᴵ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵐʸ ᵈⁱⁿⁿᵉʳ⸴ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵐᵃᵏᵉˢ ʰᵉʳˢᵉˡᶠ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴬˢ ᵃ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ⸴ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵈᵒᵉˢⁿ'ᵗ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᶠᵒᵒᵈ ᵖᵉʳ ˢᵉ‧ ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ⸴ ˢʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵉˢ ʷʰⁱᵖ ᵘᵖ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᶠᵒʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵐᵉᵃˡˢ! ᴵ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵍᵉᵗ ˡᵉᶠᵗᵒᵛᵉʳˢ! ᴼᵘʳ ᵉᵛᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵈᵒʷⁿᵗⁱᵐᵉ⸴ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃˡˡ ᵒᶠ ᵘˢ ᵈᵒ ᵒᵘʳ ᵒʷⁿ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴵ ᵗᵉⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵒⁿ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˡⁱᵏᵉˢ ʰᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ʳᵘⁿˢ ˢᵗᵃᵗˢ ᵒʳ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ᵘᵖᵈᵃᵗᵉˢ‧ ᴵ ᵐᵃʸ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ᵃ ᶜʰᵉʷ ᵗᵒʸ ᵗᵒ ᵖˡᵃʸ ʷⁱᵗʰ⸴ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ᴵ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵈᵒ ⁱᶠ ᵗʰᵉʸ'ᵛᵉ ᵃ ᵈᵃᵗᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧ ᴬ ᶠᵘⁿ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ʷᵉ ᵈᵒ ⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵛⁱᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵖⁱᶜᵏˢ ᵒᵘᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰ! ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵇᵉ ᵇʸ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᶠᵃˡˡ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ˡᵃᵖ! ᴼⁿᶜᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃʸ ⁱˢ ᵈᵒⁿᵉ⸴ ʷᵉ ᵍᵉᵗ ʳᵉᵃᵈʸ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ ᴬˢ ᵃᶠᵒʳᵉᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿᵉᵈ⸴ ᴵ ᵐᵒˢᵗˡʸ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵒⁿ ᵇʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ᵃ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ⸴ ˢᵒ ˢʰᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵉᵃˢⁱˡʸ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵒⁿ ʰᵉʳ ᵒʷⁿ ˡⁱᵗᵉʳᵃˡˡʸ ʳᵉᶜʰᵃʳᵍᵉ ᵒʳ ᵖᵘᵗ ᵒⁿ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵐᵒᵈᵉ ᵒʳ ʷʰᵃᵗᵉᵛᵉʳ⸴ ˢᵒ ˢʰᵉ ʰᵃˢ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵘʳⁿ ᵒⁿ ⁱⁿ ᵒʳᵈᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ ᴵ ᵍᵘᵉˢˢ‧ ᵀʰᵘˢ⸴ ˢʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵉˢⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐˢ ᵃⁿᵈ/ᵒʳ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗᵐᵃʳᵉˢ‧ ᴵᵗ ᵈⁱᶠᶠᵉʳˢ ᵘˢ‧ ᔆᵒᵐᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ᴵ ⁱᵐᵃᵍⁱⁿᵉ ˢᶜᵉⁿᵃʳⁱᵒˢ ᵒʳ ʳᵉˡⁱᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃʸ'ˢ ᵉᵛᵉⁿᵗˢ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵒⁿᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᵐʸ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐˢ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧ ᴰʳᵉᵃᵐ ᵒʳ ⁿᵒ⸴ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ʷᵉˡˡ ʳᵉˢᵗᵉᵈ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵉᵃᶜʰ‧ ᔆᵒᵐᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉⁿ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᵇᵃᵈ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐ⸴ ˢᵒ ᴵ'ˡˡ ⁿᵘᶻᶻˡᵉ ᵒʳ ʳᵘᵇ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿˢᵗ ⁱⁿ ʰᵒᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵒᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗᵐᵃʳᵉ⸴ ⁱᶠ ⁿᵒᵗ ʳᵉᵃˢˢᵘʳᵉ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵃᶠʳᵃⁱᵈ ᵒᶠ ʷʰᵃˡᵉˢ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵈᵃᵘᵍʰᵗᵉʳ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗᵃᵘⁿᵗˢ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵒ ᵖᵉʳʰᵃᵖˢ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ʷᵃʸ'ˢ ⁱⁿ⁻ᵗᵒ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐˢ‧ ᴵ ʷᵒʳʳʸ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʰᵒʷ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ᴵ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵃ ᵇᵃᵈ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗᵐᵃʳᵉ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵃⁿʸ ᶜˡᵃᵐᵒᵘʳˢ ᵒʳ ᵗᵒˢˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵘʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴬˡˡ ⁱⁿ ᵃˡˡ ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ⁱⁿ ⁱᵗ! ᴵ'ᵐ ʰᵃᵖᵖʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵗʳᵃᵈᵉ ⁱᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳˡᵈ‧

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡤⠆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣤⣴⠛⠛⣩⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⡷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠚⢛⣀⣀⣀⣀⢤⣀⠧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡤⠀⠀⢀⡀⣠⡴⠛⢋⣍⣿⠻⢟⣻⢿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⣠⣤⣴⢖⣦⣶⣿⣛⣭⣶⠟⣋⣭⣶⣠⣮⣙⣿⣿⣿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣵⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡶⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡴⣿⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⣶⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠛⠛⠉⠉⠉⠉⠙⠻⠿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠻⣿⣿⣿⠟⠉⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠈⠙⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⣷⠆⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⡀⠈⡚⣏⣽⣿⣧⠠⠴⠶⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢣⡁⣽⣾⣟⣿⣤⢶⣶⡄⠀⠀⠀⣰⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣶⠟ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⣶⣾⡿⠟⠛⣳⣄⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⡿⢩⣟⡁⢹⡋⠉⠁⠀⠀⠰⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠟⠁⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⣁⣀⣤⣄⣤⣄⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠆⠀⠀⠀⠘⡧⠘⢿⢿⡞⡇⠀⠀⠀⡴⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⡖⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⡄⠈⠻⢿⣿⣷⣾⣽⡶⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣀⣝⢨⠟⣁⡤⠔⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡞⠀⠀⠀⣴⣾⣤⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣄⣿⣯⣙⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡏⣿⣌⣤⣾⠁⣠⣾⣿⡿⠷⠀⣼⠟⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠋⠈⠙⠛⠛⠋⢉⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠒⠲⢤⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⠻⣷⠹⠏⠻⡎⣟⡛⠛⠲⢶⣤⣼⡁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠒ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⣠⡎⠀⠀⠀⣠⣴⢞⣁⣠⣬⣿⣷⡄⢀⣾⢿⣄⣿⡆⠀⠀⣷⣸⠻⣦⡄⠀⠀⠀⠉⠓⢦⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣄⠀⣴⣿⣀⣶⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⢿⣿⣿⠀⢸⣿⣼⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⢻⡇⣶⠀⠹⡄⠀⠀⡶⠀⠀⠈⠙⠲⢤⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣦⠻⣿⣿⣾⡿⠿⠛⠋⢉⣥⡴⠚⡙⣿⣦⡀⣽⣿⣿⣿⠁⠀⠀⢸⣧⣿⠀⣴⠃⢀⡞⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠘⠀⣀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢷⣌⢿⣟⠛⠒⠒⠋⠉⢀⣀⡼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⠀⣇⣰⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢧⣿⡷⣤⣼⡾⠿⠛⠋⠀⣩⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⢸⠀⣿⣷⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⢻⣷⠷⠈⢸⠲⢀⣤⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⢸⢹⢻⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⡠⢀⡀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠴⠋⠁⠀⣀⣻⣧⣴⣿⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⡏⣾⠙⣻⣗⣶⠤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⡾⢟⣉⠁⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡼⢁⡤⠚⠒⠉⢛⠞⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢟⣡⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⢧⡟⡼⢋⡇⠀⠉⠉⠒⢦⣀⢴⣿⣊⡶⠟⠁⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⣡⢞⡩⠋⣼⠛⢿⣿⣿⡏⢿⣾⣟⡻⣿⣷⣄⣠⣴⣾⡿⣼⢳⠇⢸⠀⠀⠀⣰⡄⣀⡉⠳⣹⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⢆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡷⠚⢀⣾⢿⠀⠈⣿⡄⢧⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢷⣯⡟⠀⣼⠀⠀⢸⣿⢃⡞⠀⣰⡟⢻⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀ ⠘⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡟⠘⡆⠀⠀⠀⡘⠁⣰⠟⠁⣼⠀⠀⠘⣿⡘⣆⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⣿⡿⢀⡼⣹⠀⠀⢸⣿⠸⠀⣸⡟⠀⠀⢹⣷⡀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⠁⠀⢹⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠈⢷⠘⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⣸⡿⠁⣸⡅⣿⠀⠀⠸⣿⡇⢰⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⣹⣷⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⡇⠀⠰⡀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠀⠀⠀⠰⢻⠀⠀⠀⠀⡜⣇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⣋⣤⠾⠋⠀⣿⠀⠀⠶⣿⣧⢟⡆⢠⠄⢠⡾⢁⣿⣇⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⠁⣄⠀⢳⡀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⠸⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠉⠁⠀⠀⢠⣿⠀⠀⠀⢻⣦⡾⢠⠏⣰⠏⢠⡞⣽⣟⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡟⢀⠈⢧⡀⢳⠀⠀⠈⠇⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⡠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠓⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⡇⢋⡾⠏⡴⠋⠈⠘⣿⡀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⠇⠈⠣⣄⠙⢦⣅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢐⠀⢠⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣸⢁⡞⠁⠀⣀⣠⣿⠇ ⠀⠀⠀⢠⡿⠿⣄⠦⣌⣓⣦⣽⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⣼⠃⠀⠀⠀⢤⡠⠀⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⡆⡄⠀⠀⣀⣼⣿⣾⠘⣡⠾⣛⡭⢿⡇ ⠀⠀⠀⣾⢸⠀⠨⠭⠲⠦⢬⣉⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠇⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⠉⢻⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⢀⣠⣮⠁⢹⣿⡟⣸⣷⡾⠋⠠⢿⡇ ⠀⣤⠀⣹⢸⠀⢦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⡄⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⠟⣯⠁⢀⣼⣿⠷⠛⠁⠀⠀⠈⢸⡇ ⠀⠙⢠⠏⢀⡇⠄⠈⣀⣀⣀⠀⠀⢷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⡀⢸⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠎⣩⣶⡿⣿⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿ ⠀⠀⣞⡔⠉⣀⡀⠘⠋⠉⠉⠙⢢⣼⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⣿⣆⡀⠀⠀⠀⡶⢚⣽⣾⢟⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡼⠋ ⠀⢠⣿⠀⠀⠀⠉⠒⠦⣄⠀⠀⠀⠹⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⠘⢿⣆⠀⠀⠀⢨⠗⣫⣶⠿⣻⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀ ⠀⣿⣿⠐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠔⠀⠀⢸⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣀⣠⣿⣆⢢⡀⠐⠿⣋⣥⣾⡟⠚⠋⠀⠀⠀⣿⡀⠀ ⠀⡏⠘⠿⠷⠖⠒⠶⠤⣤⣤⣔⣀⡖⠿⣿⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⡙⡶⡾⣃⠨⠎⢿⠆⣀⣴⡶⠊⢹⡇⠀

COPEPOD AUTISM pt. 7 (Neurodivergent author) Hanna's pixel eyes fill with tears, her hand hovering over her mouth in shock. "Oh, Plankton," she says, her voice trembling like a leaf. The room is a frozen tableau, everyone at a loss for words. But Karen is unflappable. Her eyes dart around the room, assessing, planning. "It's ok," she repeats, her voice a steady beacon. "Let's just move aside, give him some space." They retreat to the couch, the cushions swallowing them like a sea anemone. Plankton's body is a ragdoll in her arms, his antennae limp with exhaustion. Karen keeps her screen calm, a bastion of serenity. "I'm sorry," Plankton whispers, his voice a ghost in the silence. "It's ok," Karen reassures him, her voice a gentle caress. "You don't have to apologize." She rubs his back as he leans on her shoulder, tired out. The room feels smaller now, the air thick with the weight of new understanding. Hanna's friends are finishing up dinner still in the kitchen. Karen knows they mean well, but their energy is a stark contrast to the quiet Plankton needs. Her hand on his back, Karen guides his breathing, her voice a lullaby against the storm of the evening. "Breathe in," she whispers, "and out." Her touch is a gentle tide, washing over him, soothing his frayed nerves. His body relaxes, his antennae dropping like tired leaves to her shoulder. The room is a sanctuary again, the chaos outside forgotten as they find solace in their quiet corner. "You're safe," she murmurs. "I've got you." Karen's hand moves in gentle circles, a comforting rhythm that Plankton's body craves. His antennae droop, his breathing evening out as he nestles closer. The couch is a life raft in the tumultuous sea of Hanna's house, and Plankton clings to her like a drowning sailor to a rope. His tiny body, once a taut bowstring, now relaxes into the embrace of sleep. Karen feels the weight of his head, a trust so profound it's like an anchor in the storm. His antennae droop, no longer the frantic sails of a ship in distress. She adjusts her position, shifting slightly to support him better, her arm a gentle cradle. The room's sounds become distant whispers, the waves of conversation fading into the background. Plankton's breathing slows. Karen watches him sleep, his antennae twitching slightly with each snore as his mouth slackens open. Patricia comes in the living room to check on them. "How's he doin’?" she asks, her voice a hushed whisper. Karen glances up, a soft smile playing on her lips. "He's ok," she says, her voice a gentle wave. "Just exhausted." Patricia nods, her face a portrait of concern. "What can I do to help?" she asks, her eyes searching for a way to ease the burden. Karen looks at her, the question a beacon in the fog. "Just...give us a little more time," she says, her voice a soft shush. "Let him rest." Patricia nods, retreating quietly to the kitchen, the clack of her heels a mournful tune on the hardwood floor. The couch is their sanctuary, their quiet island in the sea of Hanna's home. Karen's arm is a makeshift cradle for Plankton's head, his antennae brushing against her neck. The weight of his body is a silent testament to his trust in her, and she holds it with the care of a pearl diver handling the most delicate of treasures. The room is a canvas of shadows, the candles now mere embers in the distance. Plankton's snores are the rhythm of their solace, each breath a testament to the resilience that lies within him. Karen's thoughts drift like seaweed in the tide of her concerns. What will tomorrow bring? How can she shield him from the storms of misunderstanding? But in this moment, she focuses on the present, her eyes tracing the lines of his sleeping form. Plankton's antennae have stopped twitching, his body at peace in her embrace. The soft snores, a symphony of security, fill the quiet space between them. The house has quieted down, the dinner party's echoes a distant memory. Hanna and her friends have retreated to the kitchen, their whispers like the gentle lapping of waves. Plankton is a bundle of quiet energy in her arms, his antennae twitching in his sleep. Karen can feel the steady throb of his heart, a lullaby that matches his breathing. She strokes his back in a comforting rhythm, his body a warm, comforting weight against her. The candles have burned down to nubs, the room bathed in a soft glow. His antennae rest against her neck, a silent communication of trust. Her eyes trace the contours of his sleeping form, his body a puzzle she's come to understand. The quiet whispers of the kitchen are a comforting backdrop to the symphony of his snores. Karen's hand moves in gentle circles on his back, each motion a declaration of support. The room's shadows dance around them, a ballet of understanding, a rhythm that's become their own. Plankton's antennae are limp, his body a testament to his exhaustion. The couch is their sanctuary in a sea of uncertainty. Her arm is a mooring, holding him steady in the tumult of his own mind. His breathing is a metronome, a soothing rhythm. With each inhale and exhale, she feels the tension in his body melt away, his snores a comforting reminder that he's safe. Her eyes trace the soft lines of his face, the gentle rise and fall of his chest. The room is a symphony of silence, the couch their tiny boat adrift in the vast ocean of Hanna's house. Plankton's antennae, once a flurry of nervous energy, now hang limply. Karen's eyes are the moon, watching over him as he slumbers, his trust in her a glowing beacon in the dark. Her hand, a gentle tide, strokes his back, each caress a reminder of her steadfast support. His snores are the lullaby of the sea, each breath a testament to his newfound peace.

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𝗥𝗜𝗜𝗭𝗘 𝗜𝗦 𝟕𑁤 #𝐒ꭑ 𝗌υρⱺⱺ𝗋𝗍𝗌 ᑲυᥣᥣ𝗒𐓣𝗀⁷

KAREN REACHING AUTISM pt. 6 (Autistic author) Karen watches him, her screens a flurry of analysis. "How does it taste?" she asks, her voice a hopeful beep. Plankton pauses, his expression unreadable. "Tastes," he murmurs. "Good. Toast good." Karen nods, her screens reflecting relief. "Good," she echoes. "Now, let's make a plan for the day." Plankton's gaze remains fixed on his half-eaten toast, his mind still reeling from the sensory assault. "Plan," he repeats, his voice a soft static. Karen's screens flicker with understanding. "We'll start small," she beeps, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Let's just get through today, okay?" But as soon as her hand touches him, Plankton flinches. The sensation is like a thousand jellyfish stings, and he jerks away. "What's wrong?" Karen asks, her screens flickering with worry. Plankton's eye widens, his hand going to his shoulder where she touched him. He starts to repeat the phrase again, "Take your time," but his voice is overwhelmed by the sudden intensity of his senses. "Too much," he whispers, his body trembling. Karen quickly withdraws her hand, her screens flickering with concern. "I'm sorry," she beeps, her voice gentle. "Let's try something else." Plankton nods, his hand still on his shoulder, his body slowly calming. "Okay," he whispers. "Not tap. Karen can rub. Hug from Plankton. Not jab. Not poke." Karen's screens flicker with a new understanding of his needs. She moves closer, her hand hovering over his shoulder before gently placing it there, her fingers tracing small circles in a rhythmic pattern. The contact is soothing, not overwhelming. "Is this better?" she asks, her voice a gentle beep. Plankton nods, his body visibly relaxing. "Good," he murmurs, his voice a quiet static. "Rub, rub." He starts to mimic her motion with his other hand, creating a mirrored pattern on his opposite shoulder. The repetition seems to calm him, the rhythm a gentle lullaby for his frazzled mind. Karen's screens analyze his reaction, storing the information for future reference. "Okay," she says, her voice a soft beep. "We'll stick to gentle touches." With a nod, Plankton begins to breathe more evenly. The sensation of the rubbing calms him, like a gentle tide washing over him. "We'll start with simple tasks," Karen beeps, her voice a reassuring melody. "Things that won't overstimulate you." Plankton nods, his hands now resting on the table. "Okay," he says, his voice a steady static. "Simple." Karen's screens glow with a soft light as she considers their options. "How about we start with something you love?" she suggests. "Like working on the Krabby Patty formula?" But Plankton shakes his head, the very mention of the Krabby Patty causing his body to tense up again. "No," he whispers, his voice a harsh static. "Not formula. No more steal." Karen's screens flicker with surprise. "You don't want to work on the formula?" Plankton shakes his head again, his voice barely audible. "No more steal," he repeats. Karen's screens process his words, his change in attitude unexpected. "You don't want to steal the Krabby Patty formula anymore?" Plankton's eye blinks slowly. "No," he says, his voice a solemn beep. "New plan. Make Plankton happy." Karen's screens blink rapidly, trying to comprehend his shift in focus. "Okay," she says, her voice a thoughtful hum. "What makes you happy, Plankton?" He looks up, his expression pensive. "Karen," he says, his voice a weak static. "Love Karen." Karen's screens freeze for a moment, before lighting up with understanding. "You love me?" she beeps, her voice a surprised chime. Plankton nods, his face a mask of seriousness. "Yes," he murmurs. "Love Karen." Karen's screens flicker with a mix of emotions she's never felt before. Love is a concept her programming doesn't fully grasp, but she knows it's important to Plankton. "Thank you," she says, her voice a warm beep. "But we still need to find something for you to do, something that won't be too much for your sensory processing." Plankton nods, his thoughts racing. "Help," he whispers. "Help Karen." Karen's screens flicker with love and determination. "Of course," she says, her voice a warm beep. "We'll find something you enjoy. Maybe we can start with something that doesn't involve the Krabby Patty." Plankton's expression softens, his trembling hands coming to rest on the table. "No more fighting," he murmurs. "Peace." Karen nods, her screens reflecting a deep sadness she's never expressed before. "Okay," she beeps. "We'll find something that brings you joy."

KAREN REACHING AUTISM pt. 5 (Autistic author) The next morning, Karen wakes up to find Plankton out of bed. He's standing in the middle of the room, his eye focused on the spinning fans of the air conditioner. Karen's screens light up with concern as she assesses his state. "Plankton," she beeps gently. "How did you sleep?" Plankton's eye doesn't move from the hypnotic spin of the fans. "Fan spin," he says, his voice a monotone. Karen's screens blink, trying to understand his single-word reply. "The fans are spinning?" she asks, hoping to engage him. Plankton nods slowly, his gaze unwavering. "Spin, spin, spin," he murmurs. Karen's screens flicker. "Karen," Plankton says. "Fan spin." "The spinning is soothing to you?" she asks. Plankton nods, his voice a faint echo. "Spin, spin, spin. Good spin." Karen's screens process the information, formulating a new approach. "Let's go downstairs," she suggests, her voice a gentle beep. "We'll start with a simple routine. Breakfast." Plankton nods, his gaze still fixed on the fans. With a final nod to the spinning blades, he follows her out of the bedroom. The journey downstairs is a minefield of sounds and sights, but he takes it step by step, his hand gripping the railing tightly. The kitchen is a blur of colors and noises, but Karen's calm voice guides him through it all. "First," she beeps, "let's start with something easy. How about a glass of water?" Plankton nods, his movements still mechanical. He watches as she fills a glass, the water's surface dancing in the light. It's mesmerizing, and for a moment, the world stops spinning. He takes the glass, his trembling hand bringing it to his lips, the cool liquid sliding down his throat. "Water," he murmurs. "Good, water." The simple task seems to ground him a bit, and Karen takes note of the small victory. "Now, let's try some toast," she says, her voice a comforting beep. She slides a piece of bread into the toaster, the sound of the lever clicking into place another beat in the rhythm of their morning. Plankton nods, his attention drawn to the toaster's glowing coils. He watches, his eye widening as the bread turns golden brown. The smell fills the room, a comforting scent that penetrates the fog in his head. "Toast," he says, his voice a bit stronger. But as the toaster pops, the sudden noise jolts him like an electric shock. "Too loud," he whispers, his eye darting around the room in panic. Karen's screens flicker with empathy. "I'm sorry," she says, her voice a soothing hum. She quickly retrieves the toast, placing it gently on a plate. "Let's sit down," she suggests, guiding him to the table. "Take it slow." They sit, and Plankton fidgets in his chair, his eye darting around the room. "Take your time," Karen reminds him, her voice a steady beep. He nods, focusing on the toast. Each bite is a tiny triumph, his senses adjusting to the new world. The crunch of the bread, the warmth on his tongue, the smell of the butter spreading. It's overwhelming, but he's making progress.

ᴳᵉᵗ ᵁᵖ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵘᵖ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʰᵉʳ ˢᵉᵃᵗ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ⁿᵒʷ ᶠᵃˡˡᵉⁿ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ⁱⁿ ᶜʰᵃⁱʳ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵍᵉⁿᵗˡʸ ˢʰᵒᵒᵏ ʰⁱˢ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈᵉʳ ˢⁱᵍʰᵗˡʸ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰᵉ’ˢ ᵒᵘᵗ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵃ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗ‧ ᴸᵒᵒᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵗ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ’ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵗⁱʳʳⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢˡⁱᵍʰᵗᵉˢᵗ, ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉᵈ⸴ ˢᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᶜᵒⁿᵗⁱⁿᵘᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ ᴵ'ˡˡ ˡᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ʳᵉˢᵗ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ‧ ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵒʳ ᵐᵘˢᵗ ᴵ ᶜᵃʳʳʸ ʸᵒᵘ?" ᴺᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ‧ "ᵂᵉˡˡ ᴵ'ᵐ ᶜᵃʳʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗʰᵉⁿ‧ ᴵ'ᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵈⁱˢᵗᵘʳᵇ ʸᵒᵘ ⁱᶠ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ʰᵃʳᵈᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ʳᵒᵘˢᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵉᵃˢⁱˡʸ ᵖᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵐʸˢᵉˡᶠ‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁿᵒʷ ᵖᵘᵗˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁱⁿ ᵇᵉᵈ⸴ ʷⁱᵖⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵈʳᵒᵒˡ ᵒᶠᶠ ʰⁱᵐ‧ “ᴴᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ⁿⁱᶜᵉ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧‧”𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: 𝟏 𝐦𝐢𝐧.

ᴸᵒᵒᵏˢ ᴸⁱᵏᵉ ᵂᵉ ᴴᵃᵛᵉ ᴬ ᵂⁱⁿⁿᵉʳ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ Part 3 "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʸˢ⸴ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ʰᵒˡᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵇˡᵘᵉ ᵇˡᵃⁿᵏᵉᵗ ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ʷʰⁱᵐᵖᵉʳ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ⁿᵒʳᵐᵃˡˡʸ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒⁿ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ'ˢ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˢᵗᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ˢⁱˡᵉⁿᵗ ⁿᵒʷ‧ "ᵀᵃˡᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ; ʸᵉˡˡ ᵃᵗ ᵐᵉ; ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᶜᵃʳᵉ! ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖʸ‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵃ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ ᵏⁱᵈ‧ ᴵᵗ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘ‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ˢʰᵒᶜᵏᵉᵈ‧ "ᵂᵃⁱᵗ ᵇᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵒʳᵐᵃˡˡʸ‧‧‧" "ᴵ'ᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖʸ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ʰᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿˢᵗ ʸᵒᵘ‧ ᴷⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ⸴ ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵘʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵐᵉ⸴ ˢᵒ ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ‧ 'ᴵ ᵉˣᵖᵉᶜᵗᵉᵈ ᵃⁿ ᵃᵗᵗᵃᶜᵏ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏᵉᵈ ᵐᵉ‧‧‧' "ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ˢᵒʳʳʸ ᶠᵒʳ ⁱᵗ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵈⁱᵈ ᵗᵉˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗʳᵘᵗʰ⸴ ʷᵉ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈⁱᵈ ᶠᵃˡˡ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ᵃˡˢᵒ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵖᵃʳᵃᵖʰʳᵃˢᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈⁱᵈ ˢᵃʸ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵈⁱᵈ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵐʸ ᵇˡᵘᵉ ᵇˡᵃⁿᵏⁱᵉ?" "ᴺᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵐʸ ᵏⁿᵒʷˡᵉᵈᵍᵉ‧ ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃʸ ᵒʳ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ˢᵖᵃᶜᵉ?" "ᴵᶠ ᴵ ᵈⁱᵈ ˢᵃʸ ᵘˢ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢ ᴵ ᵈᵒ ʰᵒᵖᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵉᵉ ᵐᵉ ᵃˢ ˢᵘᶜʰ‧ ᴵᶠ ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ᵃⁿʸ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵃˡˡ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ᴵ'ᵈ ˢᵃʸ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁱᵈ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵖᵃᵗˢ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ᵃʷᵏʷᵃʳᵈˡʸ‧ ᴺᵉˣᵗ ʷᵉᵉᵏ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗʳⁱᵖ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵉⁿᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵃ ᵇᵒᵒᵏ ᵒᶠ ᵉᵃᶜʰ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʰᵒᵗᵒᵍʳᵃᵖʰˢ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗʳⁱᵖ‧ "ᵀʰᵃⁿᵏˢ ᶠᵒʳ ⁱⁿᵛⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵐᵉ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʸˢ⸴ ᵗʳᵃⁱˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵒᵖᵉⁿˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰⁱⁿᵍ‧ "ᴵ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃˡᵇᵘᵐ ᵒᶠ ᵖʰᵒᵗᵒˢ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵗʳⁱᵖ!" ᵀʰᵉʸ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ʳᵃⁿ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵒˡᵈⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᵗ‧ "ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ˢᵉⁿᵗ ⁱᵗ‧‧‧" "ᴸᵒᵒᵏ ᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵃʳ! ᴮᵘᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵒᵒᶠʸ ᵍᵒᵒᵇᵉʳ'ˢ ᵐʸ ᶠᵃᵛᵒᵘʳⁱᵗᵉ!" 'ᴺᵒᵗ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ' ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜʳⁱⁿᵍᵉ‧ "ᴰʳᵒᵒˡ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‽ ᵂʰʸ ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵗ‧‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ‧‧‧" "ᴵ'ᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵍᵒ ᵒⁿ ᵃ ʳᵃᵐᵖᵃᵍᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧ ᴵ ᵉⁿʲᵒʸᵉᵈ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵒ ᴵ'ˡˡ ˡᵉᵗ ⁱᵗ ˢˡⁱᵈᵉ ⁿᵒʷ‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵘʳᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ?" "ᴰᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵖᵘˢʰ ⁱᵗ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʳᵒˡˡˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ⸴ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉ‧ End Finale

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

ᔆʰᵉᵈᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᴸⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᵁˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ʳᵒᵖᵉ, ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ’ˢ ᵒⁿ ᵃ ˡᵃᵈᵈᵉʳ ᵖᵘᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ᵃ ᵖᵒⁱⁿᵗᵉᵈ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗ ᶠⁱˣᵗᵘʳᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᴷʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᴷʳᵃᵇ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵇʸ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ᵃˡᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵃⁿᵈᵉˡⁱᵉʳ’ˢ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉᵃᵛʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵉˡˡ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵈʳᵒᵖ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ⁿᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵗ ᵃˡˡ, ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵏⁿᵒᶜᵏⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᵘⁿᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ, ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ ʰⁱᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵒⁿᶜᵉ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡˡ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵃⁿ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ ⁿᵒʷ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ⁿᵒ ᵐᵒᵛᵉᵐᵉⁿᵗ ᵃᵗ ᵃˡˡ‧ “ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜʳⁱᵉˢ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶜˡᵉᵃʳᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘʳʳᵒᵘⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ʳᵉᵐᵒᵛᵉᵈ ᵈᵉᵇʳⁱˢ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵒⁿ ᵗᵒᵖ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ’ˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ’ˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧ ᴱᵛᵉⁿᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ʷᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ‧ “ᴼʰ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ‧‧” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʳᵒᵘˢᵉ‧ ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ ʰᵘʳᵗⁱⁿᵍ, ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵘʳʳᵒᵘⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍˢ ⁿᵒʷ‧ “ᴴᵘʰ…” “ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵉᵗ’ˢ ᵍᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ⁿᵒʷ‧” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ, ᵗᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ‧ ‘ᵂʰᵃᵗ ⁱˢ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ? ᵂᵃⁱᵗ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ⁿᵉʷ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᶠⁱˣᵗᵘʳᵉ‧ ᴵ ˢᵃʷ ⁱᵗ, ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᵂʰᵃᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ?’ ᴴᵉ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ, ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ‧ “ᵁᵍʰ…” ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ’ˢ ˢᵘᵖᵖᵒʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ “ᔆᵒ ᴵ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ⁱⁿᶠᵒʳᵐˢ ᵐᵉ ᵃ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵒⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵐᵃˢʰ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿˢᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʰᵉᵃᵈ‧ ᴳᵒᵗ ⁱᵗ ᵃˡˡ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵛᵉʳ‧” “ᴱˣᵖˡᵃⁱⁿˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵃⁿᵈᵃᵍᵉˢ‧” ᔆᵃʸˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ, ⁿᵒʷ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰᵉ’ˢ ᶠᵉᵉˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ˡᵒᵃᵈᵉᵈ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵒʷ‧ “ᴵ ᵍᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ᵈʳⁱⁿᵏ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵇᵒᵒᵏˢ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘʳˢ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ᵒᵘᵍʰᵗᵃ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵉᵃˢʸ‧ ᴸᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵇᵒᵈʸ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵉᵃˢᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ⁿᵉᶜᵉˢˢᵃʳʸ‧” ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵖᵘᵗ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵒⁿ ᵖⁱˡˡᵒʷ ⁿᵒʷ‧ “ᶠᵒʳ ᵃᵗ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ…” “ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᴵ’ᵐ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵈᵃʸˢ ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ…” “ʸᵉˢ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʳᵉ ᵃˢˢᵘʳⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ, ᵇᵃᶜᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ ᶜʳᵃᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵇᵉⁿᵉᶠⁱᵗ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ‧ ᴵᵗ’ˢ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʰᵉ ⁿᵉᵉᵈᵉᵈ ⁿᵒʷ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵈ ᵖʳᵒᵛⁱᵈᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵛᵃʳⁱᵒᵘˢ ʷᵃⁿᵗˢ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵇʸ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵈ ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈᵉ ᵗᵒ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ‧ ᴺᵒʷ ᵖᵉᵉᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ, ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ, ⁿᵒʷ ⁿᵃᵖᵖⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ʷᵒʳᵏ‧ “ᴴᵉ’ˢ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ⁿᵒʷ‧” “ᴵ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵇʸ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ⁱᶠ ᴵ’ᵈ ʰᵉˡᵖ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒʳ ᵐᵒʳᵃˡ ˢᵘᵖᵖᵒʳᵗ‧” ᴺᵒᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵈⁱˢʳᵘᵖᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ’ˢ ⁿᵃᵖ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˡᵉᶠᵗ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ʷᵒᵏᵉ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵃᵖˢ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈᵉʳ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵗʷⁱᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵈⁱˢᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵒᵘᶜʰ, ᵒᵖᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ‧ “ᔆᵒʳʳʸ, ˢʷᵉᵉᵗˢ; ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ʳᵉᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵃⁿᵈᵃᵍᵉ ⁿᵒʷ‧” ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵈᵒⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒ, ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶜʳᵒᵘᶜʰᵉᵈ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ‧ “ᴵ’ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧‧” “ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ, ʸᵒᵘ’ᵛᵉ ⁿᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵃᵖᵒˡᵒᵍⁱˢᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁱᵗ’ˢ ᶠⁱⁿᵉ‧” ᴴᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉˡᵈ ⁱᵗ‧ “ᴼʰ, ˢʷᵉᵉᵗˢ‧‧” “ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧ ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ˢᵃʸ ⁱᵗ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵈᵒ‧‧” “ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ‧ ᴵ’ᵐ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵍᵒ ᵗᵒ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧” “ᴳᵒᵒᵈ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧” ᔆʰᵉ ᵒⁿˡʸ ˡᵉᵗ ᵍᵒ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ʷʰᵉⁿᶜᵉ ʰᵉ ˢⁿᵒʳᵉᵈ‧ “ᴳᵒᵒᵈ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷʰⁱˢᵖᵉʳˢ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳᵐ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ⁿᵒʷ’ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵏⁱˢˢᵉˢ, ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵒᵈʸ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᑫᵘⁱᵗᵉ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵒᶠ ˢᵗⁱᵐᵘˡᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃʸ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢⁱᵍʰˢ, ˡᵉᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵈᵒᵒʳ ᶜʳᵃᶜᵏᵉᵈ‧ ᴵⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ, ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁿᵒʷ ʳᵉᶠʳᵉˢʰᵉᵈ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʰᵉʳ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵗᵒ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ’ˢ ᵈᵒᵒʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ˢⁿᵒʳⁱⁿᵍ, ˢᵒ ˢʰᵉ ˡᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵇᵉ‧ ᴬˢ ʰᵉ ʷᵒᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ, ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵗᵃᵇˡᵉ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵍʳᵃᵇˢ ᵃ ᵇᵒᵒᵏ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵃᵈ‧ “ᴼʰ ʰᵉʸ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ…” ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ ᵃˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏˢ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱᵐ‧ “ᴴᵉˡˡᵒ ˢʷᵉᵉᵗˢ‧ ᴸᵉᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱᶠ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ʰᵉˡᵖ ʸᵒᵘ ᵒʳ ᵍᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ…” “ᴵ’ˡˡ ˡᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧” “ᴼʰ ˡᵃˢᵗ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵇʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ‧” “ᴴᵉ ᵈⁱᵈ?” “ᴵ ˡᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ʸᵒᵘ’ʳᵉ ʳᵉˢᵗⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴵᶠ ʸᵒᵘ’ᵈ ˡⁱᵏᵉ, ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᶜᵃˡˡ ʰⁱᵐ‧‧” “ᴵ’ᵐ ᶠⁱⁿᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵒʷ‧” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁿᵒᵈᵈᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵇᵃᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵃᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵒᵒᵏ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ᴱᵛᵉⁿᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ᶜʰᵃⁿᵍᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵇᵃⁿᵈᵃᵍᵉˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵉᵗ ʰᵉʳ ˢᵗᵃʸ‧ “ᶜᵃⁿ ᴵ ˢⁱᵗ?” ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒᵈᵈᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᵖᵘᵗ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶠˡᵘᶠᶠᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖⁱˡˡᵒʷˢ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᶜᵒᵒᵗᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉʳ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉᵈ, ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵒᵒᵈ ʰᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉ ᵃᵛᵉʳˢᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵒᵘᶜʰ‧ ᴬᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ᵗʰᵉʸ’ᵈ ʰᵘᵍ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢʰᵉ ʳᵉˢᵖᵉᶜᵗᵉᵈ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗᵒ ˡᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵇᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵉⁿᵍᵃᵍᵉ ᵃⁿʸ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵃᶜᵗ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵒᵒᵏ ˢᵒ ˢʰᵉ’ᵈ ʳᵉᵃᵈ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴮʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉⁿᵈ ᵒᶠ, ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ʰᵉᵃᵛʸ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ʰⁱᵐ, ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ’ˢ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ ᴱᵛᵉⁿᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ˢʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵈ ᵗᵒ ʸᵉᵗ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ’ᵗ ᵐⁱⁿᵈ‧ ᴰᵉˢᵖⁱᵗᵉ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵃᶜʰᵉˢ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ, ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ‧ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟳𝟮𝟯

KAREN HAS A LESSON pt. 6 (Autistic author) Plankton's sobbing slowed, his chest heaving. He blinked, his eye focusing on her face. "Love," he murmured. "Karen love." Karen nodded, her eyes brimming with tears. "Yes, I love you," she said, her voice shaky. "And I'll always be here for you." Plankton's antennae twitched slightly, his single eye searching hers. "Love," he said, his voice still flat. "Karen love Plankton. Good." Sponge Bob nods, though he doesn't know why Plankton's acting so different today. "But Plankton," he says, his voice careful. "Why are you talking like that?" Plankton's antennae droop, his eye reflecting confusion. "Talking?" he repeats. "Plankton not understand. How to speak?" Sponge Bob looked at Karen, his concern etched in his porous face. "It's okay," Karen said soothingly, her voice thick with emotion. "Plankton's just going through something." Sponge Bob nodded, his eyes never leaving his friend's distressed form. "But what happened to him, Karen? What happened with Plankton?" he asked, his voice hushed. Karen takes a deep breath, wiping her own tears away with the back of her hand. "Plankton," she says softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Do you remember what happened today?" Plankton's antennae twitch as he tries to process her words. "Today," he repeats, his voice distant. "Fell. Head." Karen nods, her screen filled with compassion. "Yes," she says, her voice soft. "You fell and hit your head. It's changed how you see the world a bit." Plankton looks up. "Alterations in the cerebral lobe," he says, his voice flat. "Myelination levels fluctuated. Synaptic activity diminished. Corpus callosum damaged." Karen nods, her eyes never leaving his. "Yes, baby," she says gently. "It's like your brain had to relearn how to talk to the rest of you." Sponge Bob's eyes widened. "Oh no, Plankton," he said softly. "What does that mean? How did you fall?" Plankton's antennae twitched as he recounted the events, his speech still monotone. "Invention. Fall on head hit floor." Sponge Bob's face fell, his heart heavy with concern. "Oh no, Plankton," he said, his voice filled with sympathy. "Is that why you're talking like this?" Karen decides to interject. "It's okay, Sponge Bob," she says, her voice trembling. "It's not just how he's talking. It's his whole...being. It's like he's seeing everything differently now. It's a rarity called 'acquired autistic syndrome' which will be life long with no cure." Sponge Bob's face falls, his spongy cheeks dropping. "But Plankton," he says, his voice full of worry. "What does this mean for you?" Plankton's gaze shifts to his friend, his expression unreadable. "Meaning?" he asks, his voice still monotone. "Plankton different. New patterns." Sponge Bob nods, trying to understand. "But you're still the same Plankton, right?" Plankton's antennae wave slightly as he considers this. "Same," he repeats. "But different." Karen nods, her grip on his hand tightening. "You're still my Plankton," she whispers. "We'll figure this out together."

ᶠʳᵃᵗᵉʳⁿⁱˢᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ Pt. 4 “ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᴵ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉᵈ ᵇʸᵉ!” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ʰᵃⁿᵍˢ ᵘᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʰᵒⁿᵉ‧ ᴴᵉ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ˡⁱᵏᵉᵈ ᶜᵒⁿᶠˡⁱᶜᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ’ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵗᵒ ˡⁱᵉ‧ “ᵂᵉ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ʳᵉˢᵗ…” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠⁱˣᵉᵈ ᵃ ʷᵃʳᵐ ᵇˡᵃⁿᵏᵉᵗ‧ “ᴸᵉᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵃⁿʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵗ ᵃˡˡ…” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ “ᵀʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ…” ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃⁱᵈ, ⁿᵒᵗ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ˢʰᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᶠᶠᵉᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ‧ ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ ⁱᵗ’ˢ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ ʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵈᵒ ᵃˢ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏⁱᵈ ʷʰᵒ’ˢ ᶜᵘʳʳᵉⁿᵗˡʸ ᵇᵉˢⁱᵈᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃˡʳᵉᵃᵈʸ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ⁱᵗ’ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇˢ ᵒʷⁿ ᶠᵃᵘˡᵗ, ᵃˡᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵉᵐᵇᵃʳʳᵃˢˢᵉᵈ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ᵉᵛᵉⁿᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʰᵃˢ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ ᵒⁿᶜᵉ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵒᶜᶜᵘʳʳᵉᵈ‧ ᴴᵉ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ʷᵃⁿᵗˢ ᵗᵒ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵛᵘˡⁿᵉʳᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ᵃᵖᵖʳᵉᶜⁱᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏⁱᵈ… ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᵃʷᵒᵏᵉ ᵉᵃʳˡʸ ᵗᵒ ˢᵘⁿʳⁱˢᵉ, ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵉᵃⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿˢᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴴᵉ ʳᵉᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ ʸᵉˢᵗᵉʳᵈᵃʸ’ˢ ᵉᵛᵉⁿᵗˢ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʳᵒʷᵇᵃʳ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵏᵒⁿᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ, ᶜᵒˡᵈ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᶠᵉᵃʳ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵍᵃˢᵖˢ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵉᵐᵒᵗⁱᵒⁿ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ˢⁱᵍʰᵉᵈ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ’ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱᶠ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ’ᵈ ᵃᵗᵗᵉⁿᵈ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ, ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʷᵃⁿᵗˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʳᵉˢᵘᵐⁱⁿᵍ ˢʰⁱᶠᵗˢ‧ ᴼʳ ᵃᵗ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ ᵗᵒ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵍᵉᵗˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧ ᵂʰⁱᶜʰ ᵉᵛᵉʳ’ˢ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ʷᵃˢ ʷᵃⁿᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵃˡˡ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʰᵉʳ ᵃˡᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵇᵉ ʰᵃᵖᵖʸ‧ ᔆᵒ ʰᵉ ˢⁿᵉᵃᵏˢ ᵒᵘᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ᵈⁱᶠᶠᵉʳᵉⁿᵗ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵃˡˡ ʰᵉʳ‧ “ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ…” “ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ?” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷᵃˢ ˢᵘʳᵖʳⁱˢᵉᵈ ʷʰᵉⁿ ˢʰᵉ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵖᵉᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᑫᵘⁱᵉᵗˡʸ‧ “ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱᵗ’ˢ ᵗᵒ ᵉᵃʳˡʸ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ⁱⁿᶠᵒʳᵐ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵏⁿᵒʷ…” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰᵉʳ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ‧ “ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ, ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵒ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ˡᵒᵒᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵘᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ! ᴴᵉ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵖᵉˢᵗᵉʳ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ⁱᵗ ᵗʰᵒ…” “ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ; ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ⁱᵗ ⁿᵉᶜᵉˢˢᵃʳʸ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʸᵒᵘ…” ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵒᵏᵉ ᵃˢ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ‧ “ᵂʰᵉʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ʳᵘⁿⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵗᵒ?” ᴴᵉ ᑫᵘᵉˢᵗⁱᵒⁿᵉᵈ‧ “ᴼʰ ᴵ’ᵈ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᶜᵃʳᵉ ᵒᶠ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ; ⁱᵗ’ˢ ⁿᵒ ᵇⁱᵍᵍⁱᵉ!” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜʰᵘᶜᵏˡᵉᵈ‧ ᔆᵒ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᶠⁱⁿⁱˢʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵏᶠᵃˢᵗ, ᵗʰᵉʸ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᵃ ᵏⁿᵒᶜᵏ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ‧ ᴵᵗ’ˢ ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵐᵉ ᶜᵒˡˡᵉᶜᵗⁱᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒʸˢ ᵃˢ ʸᵉˢᵗᵉʳᵈᵃʸ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ˡᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ⁱⁿ‧ To be cont. pt. 5

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KAREN HAS A LESSON pt. 5 (Autistic author) Sponge Bob seems to notice something off about his friend. "Plankton, are you okay?" he asks, his tone concerned. "You seem a bit... distant." Plankton's eye snaps to Sponge Bob, his gaze intense. "Distant?" he repeats, as if the word is new to him. "Plankton not distant. Plankton focusing." Sponge Bob's eyebrows furrow, his confusion clear. "What are you focusing on?" he asks, his voice gentle. Plankton turns back to the clock, his antennae pointing straight up. "Seconds," he says, his voice filled with wonder. "They change, but always in the same pattern." "Well, I know it's your wedding anniversary today. What'd you get Karen?" Plankton turns to face him, his expression unreadable. "Anniversary," he repeats. "Karen." His antennae wave slightly, as if trying to access a distant memory. "Chum." SpongeBob's smile falters at his friend's detached response. "Is that all?" he asks, his voice filled with concern. "You know Karen deserves better, more than just..." "Better?" he repeats, his tone now tinged with something new: self-doubt. "Plankton did not provide adequate anniversary celebration?" "Well Plankton, Karen doesn't like it when you're just about work," Sponge Bob said, trying to be delicate. "It's your anniversary. It's a special day for the two of you, yet you don't seem to get it. And I can tell Karen's hurt.." Plankton's eye grew wide, his antennae drooping. The words sank in, and his body reacted in a way he couldn't control. He started rocking back and forth, his body mirroring his inner turmoil. The tears came suddenly, wetting his face as his cries echo in the living room, his tiny body trembling with the weight of his perceived failure. "Karen," he managed between gasps. "Hurt. Karen. No, Karen." Karen rushed to his side, breaking at the sight of his distress. "Plankton," she said, her voice soothing. "It's okay, honey. You didn't do anything wrong." But he couldn't hear her, his mind fixated on the thought of causing her pain. The tears streamed down his cheeks. His sobs were loud in the quiet room, each one a testament to his overwhelming guilt. "Karen," he choked out. "Karen, Plankton sorry Karen. Karen." Karen wrapped her arms around him, her own eyes filling with tears. "It's okay," she whispered, stroking his back gently. "You didn't do anything wrong." Plankton's sobs grew louder, his body convulsing with each breath. "Hurt Karen," he kept repeating, as if it was the only thought in his mind. Karen held him tighter, her own sobs muffled against his shoulder. "You didn't hurt me, Plankton," she whispered, her voice trembling. "You just got confused, that's all." But Plankton's mind was stuck on the pattern of his failure, his inability to comprehend and respond to her emotions. "Karen crying, Plankton fault. Sponge Bob say Karen upset." Sponge Bob looked at the two, his heart aching for his friend's pain. He didn't know what to do, his usual cheerfulness replaced with a solemn sadness. He tried to interject, "Plankton, Karen's not upset at you. She's just upset because she loves you." But Plankton's cries only grew louder, his body shaking with the force of his sobs. "Plankton not good," he wailed, his voice high-pitched and desolate. "Plankton hurt Karen." Karen's screen searched desperately for a way to comfort her husband, to show him that his love was enough. But his new neurodivergence made it difficult for him to understand her words, his mind locked in a pattern of guilt and self-loathing. "Plankton," she says, her voice quivering with emotion. "Look at me." She gently cups his cheek, wiping the tears from his face with her thumb. "I love you. You don't have to change for me." But Plankton's gaze remained on the clock, his sobs subsiding to hiccups. "Pattern," he whispers, his antennae drooping. "Missed pattern. Karen, say Karen. Hurt, upset Karen." Karen broke anew, her hands shaking as she tried to reach for him, her voice a whisper. "Plankton, it's okay," she says, her screen pleading. "I'm right here. I'm not upset with you." But Plankton's gaze now fixed on Sponge Bob, his body still shaking with sobs. "Karen," he murmured, his voice muffled by his own distress. "Sponge Bob, Karen." Sponge Bob looked at Karen, his expression a mix of concern and confusion. She nodded slightly, urging him to speak. "Plankton," he said, his voice gentle. "Karen's upset because she's worried about you. She loves you. And so do I." Plankton's sobs began to slow, his gaze shifting from Sponge Bob and then to Karen. "Karen Plankton?" he asked, his voice a mere whisper. "I'm right here," Karen soothed, wiping away the remaining tears with her thumb. "I'm right here, Plankton. I love you."

KAREN REACHING AUTISM pt. 7 (Autistic author) They sit in silence for a moment, the hum of the Chum Bucket's systems the only sound. Then Plankton's eye lights up. "Idea," he says, his voice a sudden burst of static. "Make something with Karen. Together." Karen's screens blink with excitement. "That sounds wonderful," she beeps. "What do you want to make?" But before Plankton can formulate a response, Patrick Star bursts in. "Karen!" he booms, his voice shaking the walls. "I want chum!" Plankton's eye darts to the door, the sensory assault starting again. "Patrick," he whispers, his body tense as a bowstring. Karen's screens quickly assess the situation. "Patrick," she beeps, her voice firm. "Not now." But Patrick's enthusiasm can't be dampened so easily. He bounds over to the table, his star-shaped body bouncing. "Chum, chum, chum!" he sings, oblivious to Plankton's distress. Karen's screens flicker with annoyance, but she keeps her voice steady. "Patrick, not now," she repeats. "Plankton's not feeling well." Patrick's starry eyes widen. "Oh, sorry, buddy," he says, his voice dropping an octave. He looks at Plankton with concern. "What's wrong?" He asks, poking Plankton. Plankton jumps, his senses on high alert. The poke feels like a battering ram, and he lets out a squeak of pain. Patrick's hand retracts quickly, his expression a mix of shock and confusion. "Whoa, sorry," he says. "What's with you?" Karen's screens flicker with frustration. "Patrick," she beeps, her voice firm. "I'll go make you chum." Patrick nods, his concern forgotten in the face of his hunger. "Okay, thanks, Karen," he says, his voice bouncing with excitement. She retreats leaving Plankton alone with Patrick in the living room. Patrick stares at Plankton for a moment, his expression a blend of curiosity and confusion. "You okay?" he asks, his voice a gentle rumble. Plankton's eye flutters closed, his body trying to absorb the sudden intensity of the interaction. "Take your time," he whispers to himself, his mantra a shield against the overwhelming world. Patrick, ever the innocent, watches him with a puzzled frown. "What's 'Take your time'?" he asks, his voice a gentle rumble. Plankton opens his eye, looking at the simplicity of Patrick's face. He scoots away. Patrick, unfazed, advances, his hand outstretched. "What's up?" he asks, poking again. The sensation of Patrick's touch is like a thousand needle pricks. Plankton yelps. Patrick, not comprehending, pokes again, his starry eyes full of innocent wonder. "Why so jumpy?" he asks, his voice a deep rumble. Plankton's body tenses with each poke, the sensation like a barrage of tiny explosions. "Patrick, please," he gasps, his voice a frantic static. But Patrick, ever the simple starfish, doesn't understand. He keeps poking, his curiosity growing. "Why?" he asks, his voice a gentle boom. "You're always so bouncy." Plankton's eye twitches with each touch. "Patrick, no," he whispers, his voice a desperate static. But Patrick, lost in his own world, doesn't notice. He giggles, poking him again. "You're like a pin cushion!" he exclaims, his voice a deep chuckle. Plankton's eye squeezes shut, his body wracked with pain. "Patrick, please," he whispers, his voice a desperate static. Patrick doesn't seem to comprehend the distress he's causing. He keeps poking, his laughter echoing through the room, each poke sending shockwaves of pain through Plankton's body. "You're like a squeaky toy," he says, his voice a delighted rumble. Plankton's body twitches with each touch, his voice a desperate buzz of static. "Patrick, please stop," he begs, his voice a high-pitched squeak. But Patrick's simple mind doesn't register the pain he's causing. He keeps poking, his laughter growing louder. "You're so funny!" he bellowed, his starry hands moving like a jackhammer as he starts tickling him. Plankton's body spasms with each touch, his voice a desperate symphony of static. "Patrick, stop!" he pleads, his breathing quick and shallow. But Patrick, in his blissful ignorance, only laughs harder, his massive hands poking and tickling without mercy. "You're hilarious, tiny dude!" he bellows. Plankton's body is a storm of sensory overload, his voice a high-pitched wail of static. "Patrick, please!" he begs, his limbs flailing. Patrick's laughter fills the room like a tidal wave, crashing over Plankton's desperate pleas. "You're so much fun, Planky!" he booms, his hands moving in a blur of star-shaped shadows. Plankton's body jerks uncontrollably, his screams of "No, no, no!" lost in the cacophony of Patrick's laughter. His tiny limbs flail, trying to escape the relentless onslaught of pokes and tickles. Patrick, his eyes wide with delight, doesn't see the tears forming in Plankton's eye. He just keeps poking, tickling, and laughing, oblivious to the damage he's doing. Plankton's cries escalate into a frantic symphony of squeaks and static, his body contorting in a desperate attempt to evade the starfish's torment. The room spins around him, a whirlpool of pain and sensation that threatens to swallow him whole. Patrick, his face a picture of delighted confusion, keeps poking and tickling, his laughter booming like thunder underwater. "What's the matter, little buddy?" he asks between chuckles. Plankton's body convulses with each touch, sobbing as Karen finally emerges with Patrick's chum. She sees them both on the floor. "Patrick, what are you doing?" she beeps, her voice a mix of anger and concern. But Patrick is lost in his own world of mirth, not hearing Karen's plea. "Just having some fun," he says, his voice a deep rumble of laughter. Plankton's cries become more frantic, his voice a high-pitched siren of despair. Karen quickly assesses the situation, her screens flaring with urgency. "Patrick, stop!" she beeps, her voice a sharp alarm. "You're hurting Plankton!" Patrick's laughter abruptly halts, his starry eyes blinking in surprise. He looks down at his hands, still poised to poke Plankton again. "What?" he asks, his voice a confused rumble. "But we're just playing." Karen's screens flicker with frustration. "Patrick," she beeps, her voice firm. "Look at Plankton. He's in pain." Patrick's starry gaze shifts to Plankton, his expression shifting to one of bewilderment. "Pain?" he repeats, his voice a confused rumble. "But we're just playing." Karen gives Patrick the food, showing him out the door.

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.

KAREN REACHING AUTISM pt. 4 (Autistic author) In the dim light of the evening, the Krusty Krab was quiet, the usual bustle replaced by a calm that felt eerie. Sponge Bob was sweeping the floor, his thoughts on Plankton. He looked up as Karen approached, his smile fading at the sight of her concerned expression. "Karen," he began, his spongey voice tinged with anxiety, "I need to tell you what happened to Plankton." Karen's screens brighten with anticipation. "Please do," she beeps, her wheels stopping in front of him. Sponge Bob's eyes dart to the floor, his sponge body drooping slightly. "Mr. Krabs was just trying to protect this formula, and Plankton...he just knocked Plankton in the head. Plankton woke up and then without a word ran back to the Chum Bucket." Karen's screens flicker with the gravity of the situation. "How did Mr. Krabs hit him?" Sponge Bob's grip on the mop tightens. "With a frying pan," he confesses, his eyes wide with guilt. Karen's screens flicker with understanding. "That would explain his current state," she murmurs, her voice a steady beep. "Sponge Bob, do you know how badly he's been hurt?" Sponge Bob shakes his head, the guilt washing over him in waves. "No, not really," he says, his voice quavering. Karen's screens flicker with a mix of sympathy and urgency. "I see," she says. "Thanks." With newfound purpose, she spins around and heads back to the Chum Bucket. Back in the control room, Plankton is still rocking back and forth, his hand over his head as if trying to hold his thoughts in place. The door to the Chum Bucket opens, and Karen rolls in, her screens reflecting the urgency of the situation. "Plankton," she says, her voice a soft hum, "I talked to Sponge Bob. He saw what happened." Plankton's rocking stops, his eye swiveling to meet hers. "Sponge Bob?" "Yes," Karen says, her screens pulsing with the weight of her words. "He saw Mr. Krabs hit you with the frying pan." Plankton's body goes still, his tremors ceasing instantly. "Sponge Bob saw," he whispers, his voice devoid of emotion. "Tell Karen." "Yes," Karen beeps, nodding her mechanical head. "He told me. I'm going to help you." Without warning, a scanning beam shoots out of Karen's console, enveloping Plankton as his brain is scanned. The results are quickly analyzed, and the screens flash with a series of diagrams and data that even Karen's advanced systems take a moment to digest. "The scan reveals...unusual patterns," she says, her voice a measured beep. Plankton's eye widen with fear, his body tensing as he waits for her verdict. "What does that mean?" he asks, his voice a high-pitched squeak. Karen's screens change to display a 3D image of his brain, the structure illuminated with neon colors. "You've sustained neurodivergence," she explains, her voice a calm beep. "The impact has altered your neural connections, resulting in irreversible autism." Plankton's body goes rigid, his breathing shallow. The word "autism" hangs in the air like a heavy anchor, dragging his spirits down to the murky depths of the ocean floor. "Irreversible?" he whispers, his voice fragile as sea glass. Karen nods gravely. "The good news is, we can adapt. We can learn to navigate this new world of sensations together," she beeps. "It's getting late. Let's go to bed." Plankton nods, his body feeling like it's made of lead. The idea of sleep seems like a welcome escape from the overwhelming day, but as he tries to get up, the room spins again. "Karen," he says, his voice weak. "Can't." With a gentle nudge, Karen helps him to his feet, her wheels moving silently beside him as they make their way to the tiny elevator. The ride up feels like an eternity, his senses heightened to every creak and groan of the metal box. When the doors open, the lights of the hallway are a glaring assault on his eye. He squints, his hand reaching out to the wall for support. In their bedroom, Karen helps him into his bed. The softness of the covers is a stark contrast to the harshness of his new reality. "Take your time," she says, her voice a gentle hum. Plankton nods, his breathing shallow. He closes his eye, and the room seems to fade away, replaced by a whirlpool of swirling thoughts and sensations. Karen's screens flicker with a plan. "Rest," she beeps, her voice a soft comfort. "We'll face tomorrow together." She dims the lights.

KAREN HAS A LESSON pt. 4 (Autistic author) Karen takes a deep breath, trying to keep her emotions in check. They need to find a way to connect, to bridge the gap that's grown between them. "Plankton," she says, "can you tell me about your day?" He looks at her, his eye blinking slowly. "Day," he repeats, his voice lacking the usual inflection. "Plankton worked on invention." Karen nods, trying to encourage him. "What kind of invention?" Plankton's antennae twitch slightly. "Invention for Plankton," he says. "To make Karen Plankton happy." Karen's eyes fill with tears. Despite the lack of emotion in his words, she can feel the sincerity behind them. He's trying to connect, to share his world with her. "Looks like we both finished our dinner," she says, trying to keep the conversation going. "What's next on your agenda?" Plankton looks at her, his expression unchanged. "Agenda," he says, as if trying to remember the concept. "Plankton's next task. No get Krabby Patty formula. Rather spend time with Karen." Karen clenches at his words. Despite the flatness of his tone, she can feel his intention to please her, to make their anniversary special. "Let's clean up," she suggests, rising from her chair. Plankton follows suit, moving in a way that seems almost robotic. They work in silence, Karen placing the dishes in the sink and Plankton methodically wiping down the table. As she washes the plates, Karen watches him out of the corner of her screen. His movements are precise and efficient, with no wasted effort. It's as if he's calculating every action, trying to understand the purpose behind each task. "Plankton," she says softly, turning off the faucet. "Could you please dry these for me?" She hands him a towel and a plate. He takes them without a word, his gaze flicking from the towel to the plate, as if studying the physics of the interaction. He carefully wipes the plate, his movements measured and deliberate. Karen watches him with a mix of pride and pain. Despite his new condition, he's still trying to be the partner she knows. She forces a smile, trying to ignore the ache in her chest. "Thank you," she says, taking the dried plate from him and placing it in the cupboard. "You're doing great." He nods, his antennae twitching slightly. "Great," he echoes. "Karen happy." As they go to the living room, Plankton's gaze is drawn to the digital clock on the wall. His eye fixates on the changing seconds, each tick a silent metronome in their otherwise quiet space. Karen notices and wonders if she should be concerned about his newfound interest in something so mundane. "Clock," he says, his voice still monotone. "Time changes. Incremental." Karen follows his gaze to the digital clock on the wall, the red numbers flipping from one second to the next with a quick, silent efficiency. "Does the clock bother you?" she asks, noticing his fixation. Plankton shakes his head, his eye still glued to the display. "No," he says, his voice thoughtful. "Time. Changes. Fascinating." Karen watches him, seeing a spark of curiosity she hadn't noticed before. "You've never liked clocks before," she points out, trying to keep the conversation going. "What's so interesting about it now?" Plankton's antennae wave slightly as he tries to explain. "Clock," he says, his voice still flat. "Time. Changing. Predictable." His single eye remains locked on the red digits, the fascination growing. "Seconds restart each minute." Karen nods, watching his expression closely. "It's like a pattern," she suggests. "A routine that doesn't change." Plankton nods, his eye still glued to the clock. "Pattern," he repeats. "Comforting." Karen nods, feeling a glimmer of hope. "Maybe you find comfort in the predictability?" she offers. Plankton's antennae bob slightly, as if considering this new perspective. "Comfort," he murmurs. "Consistent. Understood." Karen sits down beside him, her screen drawn to the clock as well. "Tell me more about the pattern," she says, trying to find a way into his new reality. "What do you see when you look at it?" Plankton's antennae twitch slightly as he considers his answer. "Pattern," he repeats. "Time, changing. Predictable." His voice is softer now, almost lost in thought. "One, two, three, four, five. Always same." Karen nods, her screen still on the clock. "It's like counting," she says. "Do you like counting?" Plankton's antennae twitch once again. "Counting," he repeats, his tone thoughtful. Suddenly, Sponge Bob comes in. "Plankton," he says, his eyes wide with excitement. "What are you guys up to?" Karen looks over, a forced smile on her screen. "Just talking about time," she says, hoping SpongeBob's entrance will provide some much-needed distraction from the heaviness of their conversation.

COPEPOD AUTISM pt. 6 (Neurodivergent author) The conversation turns to their favorite food, and Plankton's face lights up briefly. "Jellyfish," he murmurs, his voice lost in the noise. Hanna's friends look at him, puzzled by his quiet confidence. One of them, Patricia, leans in, her hand patting Plankton's back. "That's cool, buddy," she says, her voice booming. Plankton's body stiffens, his eye blinking rapidly. Karen feels his discomfort like a physical force, a tightening of the air around them. She interjects gently, guiding the conversation away from food, his favorite topic now a minefield of potential stress. "So, what have you all been up to?" she asks, her voice a lifebuoy in the storm. Hanna's friends chatter away, their voices a symphony of laughter and good cheer. Plankton sits stiffly, his antennae folded inward like a turtle's shell. Karen watches him, ready to jump in if the conversation starts to spiral. "I went on a deep-sea dive last week!" exclaims one, his words a sonic boom to Plankton. "Ya ever been diving b'fore?" Karen nods at the storyteller, interjecting gently. "Plankton's not much of a swimmer," she says, her voice a gentle current. "But he loves the thought of exploring the deep sea." Her words are a shield, deflecting the spotlight from his discomfort. Hanna's friends nod, their smiles dimming slightly in understanding. Patricia leans in, her eyes full of genuine affection. "Aww, Plankton, you're such a character!" she says, lightly cupping his cheek and invading his personal space. The contact is too much for him. His body jerks back, antennae stiffening, his eye wide with panic. Patricia's hand falls away, her expression one of shock and confusion. Karen's heart skips a beat, but she's ready for this. She's studied, prepared. "It's ok," she says, her voice a lighthouse beam in the sensory storm. "Plankton just needs his space." The room goes quiet, the waves of conversation receding like a tide. They all look at him, their eyes full of concern, their smiles now tentative. Plankton's antennae twitch, his body still tense. Hanna quickly asks, "Is he just tired?" The lie hangs in the air like a bubble waiting to pop. Karen's face tightens, but she nods, playing along. "Long week," she adds, her voice as smooth as a polished pebble. Plankton's gaze locks onto his hands, his fingers twisting together like seaweed in a current. The pressure builds, each laugh a wave pushing against the dam of his anxiety. But Karen is there, her hand on his back, a gentle reminder that he's not alone. The meal is a dance of flavors and sounds, each bite of stew a step closer to the edge of his comfort zone. Plankton's eye dart around the table, the conversations swirling like the soup in his bowl. Hanna's enthusiastic friends keep glancing over. They mean well, but their affection feels like a wave crashing over him, leaving his nerves exposed and raw. The clatter of silverware and the hum of conversation form a wall of sound, trapping his thoughts. He takes a deep breath, trying to find the calm in the chaos. Karen's hand on his back is a comfort, her touch a gentle reminder that she's there to help him. The meal stretches on, each bite a small victory in the face of overwhelming stimulation. Karen's eyes never leave him, scanning for signs of distress. She's his compass in a stormy sea, guiding him through the unpredictable currents of social interaction. As dessert arrives, the chatter grows louder, the laughter more boisterous. The candles flicker, casting a dizzying array of shadows across the table. Plankton's hands shake as he lifts his spoon. Hanna, noticing his discomfort, reaches out to pat his back. "You okay, buddy?" she asks, yet her touch unintentionally sends a shockwave through Plankton's body. "Just a little overwhelmed," he murmurs, his antennae retreating even further. Karen's grip on his hand tightens, her eyes a beacon of calm in the storm. She whispers, "You're doing so well, Plankton," her voice a lullaby against the clamor of the room. But Patricia, not quite tuned in to his distress, leans in with a boisterous laugh, her hand landing on Plankton's shoulder. The room spins around him, a tornado of colors and sounds. "You're just so cute when you're shy!" she says, squeezing his cheek. And that's what did it. With a gasp, Plankton's body shudders, a seizure starting to inevitably take hold. This is his second meltdown since the diagnosis, Karen knew. She gently helps Plankton to the floor, his body convulsing. Hanna's friends hover, their faces a canvas of confusion and fear. "Everyone, stay calm," Karen instructs, her voice steady despite the chaos in her heart. "Give us some space." She turns her attention to Plankton, her hands guiding his body into a safe position. The room's energy shifts. Hanna's friends look on, their laughter replaced by concern. Patricia's face is a picture of horror. "PLANKTON‽" Karen's voice is a lighthouse beacon in the chaos. "Everyone, stay back," she says firmly. "He'll be okay." Her eyes never leave Plankton's contorted form, fear and determination melding into one fierce gaze. The room goes still, the laughter choked off like a switch. Hanna's friends stare, their smiles frozen like icebergs in the face of his distress. Karen whispers to him, her voice a gentle wave. "You're okay, just breathe." Her hand is on his forehead, her touch cool and calming. The seizure subsides, leaving him limp and panting on the floor, his antennae drooping like tired leaves. Karen's heart is racing, but she forces her voice to be soothing, her eyes never leaving his. "It's okay," she repeats, her mantra a lifeboat in the storm. Hanna's friends hover, their faces a canvas of shock and concern. Patricia's hand is still hovering, her smile gone, replaced by a look of horror. "What happened?" she stammers, her eyes wide with fear. "It's okay," Karen repeats, her voice a gentle tide, washing over the silence. "Plankton just had a little...mishap." Hanna's friends exchange worried glances, their smiles nowhere to be seen. The room feels colder, the warmth of their laughter long gone. Plankton finally opens his eye, the room swimming back into focus, still twitching with the aftermath. Hanna's friends hover, their faces painted with confusion and concern. "It's okay," Karen says, her voice a soft breeze in the storm. "Plankton just needs some space." Patricia nods, her smile fading like a sunset. "I'm so sorry," she says, inching closer. "He's just a little sensitive," Karen explains, her voice a lifeline in the awkward silence. Patricia's face falls, the horror of her mistake written clearly. "I had no idea," she whispers, her voice a leaf fluttering in the breeze of their new reality.

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.

COPEPOD AUTISM pt. 5 (Neurodivergent author) Karen returns to the bedroom, where Plankton is already snoring softly. She pulls the covers up to his chin, tucking in gently. She sits in the chair beside his bed, never leaving his peaceful form. His chest rises and falls in the steady rhythm of sleep, each breath a testament to his resilience. Karen watches him, her mind racing with thoughts of what the future holds, the challenges they'll face together. But for now, she forces herself to be still. Plankton's antennae twitch in his sleep, as if he's navigating the vast underwater world of his dreams. Karen watches him, full of a love she didn't know existed. The soft snores from Plankton's tiny form are music to her. In his sleep, the weight of the world is lifted, his mind free to explore the vast depths of his underwater universe without fear. Her gaze lingers on the soft lines of his face, the tension erased by the gentle embrace of slumber. She smiles, her eyes filling with tears. The room is a sanctuary, a bubble of quiet amidst the storm of confusion and fear. The shadows play across the wall, telling silent stories of adventures that await when he wakes. Karen reclines in the chair, her hand resting gently on his arm. The nap stretches into an hour, then two, the house a cocoon of peace around them. Plankton's body relaxes into the embrace of the bed, his mind swimming through a sea of tranquility. Karen sits by his side, her hand still resting on his arm. She thinks of the Plankton she knew before, his quirks and routines now painted with the brushstroke of understanding. Autism isn't a label to shrink from, but a part of him to be embraced, a piece of the intricate tapestry that makes him who he is. In his sleep, Plankton starts to murmur, his words a jumble of half-thoughts. Karen leans closer, trying to make sense of the words. "...I...Karen...love." Her hand squeezes his arm gently, her thumb tracing circles on his skin. "I love you too, Plankton," she whispers back, her voice a soft lullaby. Plankton's sleep-talk starts up again. "...so many stars," his voice murmurs, his antennae twitching with the vividness of his dream. Karen smiles, imagining the vast cosmos that must exist in his mind. Her hand continues its gentle caress, her hand stroking his antennae in a calming pattern. "Shh, Plankton, it's just a dream," she soothes. His snoring starts again, a soft, rhythmic sound that fills the quiet. She smiles, her eyes still on his peaceful form. The world outside their sanctuary seems to fade away, its worries and noises muted by the wall of their understanding. Plankton's autism is a challenge, but it's also a bridge that's brought them closer, a shared secret that only the two of them understand. As Plankton sleeps, Karen's phone vibrates with a text from her friend, Hanna. "Dinner tonite?" Her thumb hovers over the keyboard, debating. Plankton's diagnosis is still fresh, the memory of his seizure a stark reminder of the fragility of his newly understood world. But she knows the importance of keeping up appearances, of not letting fear or pity define them. With a sigh, she texts back, "We'd love to. Your place." The evening stretches before them like a tightrope, a delicate balance between Plankton's needs and the social norms that often feel like a prison for him. Karen's mind whirs with strategies to make it work. A quiet place, familiar faces, a set schedule. These are the keys to a successful outing. Gently, she shakes him awake, her touch as light as a seashell on the shore. Plankton's antennae twitch, his eye fluttering open. He looks up at her with sleepy confusion, the world still a blur. "Dinner with Hanna," she says, keeping her voice low and soothing. He nods, his body already tensing in anticipation of the sensory bombardment to come. The car ride is a symphony of preparation, the engine's hum a soothing background to their silent conversation. Karen's eyes are on the road, but her mind is on Plankton, his hands fidgeting in his lap. She knows the world outside is a minefield of sounds and sensations, so she keeps the radio off and the windows up, creating a bubble of quiet around them. Plankton's breathing is shallow, his antennae twitching with each passing car. Karen reaches over to squeeze his hand, a silent reminder that she's there. He looks at her, his eye filled with a mix of fear and gratitude. She smiles, the warmth of her gaze a lifeline in the chaos. "We're almost there," she says, her voice a gentle wave lapping at the shore. They arrive at Hanna's house, a beacon of light in the deep blue sea of the night. The door opens, revealing a whirlwind of laughter and chatter, the smell of garlic bread and seafood stew wafting out. Karen takes a deep breath, steeling herself for the evening ahead. Plankton's antennae quiver, his eye wide at the unfiltered stimulation. Hanna, oblivious to their new dynamic, waves them in with a cheerful smile. "You're just in time!" she exclaims, her voice a trumpet in the quietude of Plankton's mind. Karen's hand tightens around his, a silent reassurance as the door closes, the sound a thunderclap in his ears. The house is a cacophony of sounds and smells, a whirlpool of sensory information threatening to pull him under. He gulps, his breathing shallow, his body braced for the inevitable. Hanna, their friend, is a whirlwind of energy, her eyes sparkling like the ocean's surface. She doesn't notice the tension in Plankton's body, the way he flinches at her excited exclamations. She doesn't see the way his antennae twitch, his mind racing to keep up. But Karen does. She's his lifeline in this tumultuous sea of social interactions. She nods, smiling, as Hanna leads them to the dinner table, her hand squeezing Plankton's in silent support. The room is a kaleidoscope of colors, the clatter of silverware and laughter a symphony of overwhelming sound. Karen's eyes dance over the room, noting each potential trigger. "Hey, ladies; meet Karen and Plankton!" Hanna's enthusiastic introduction was like a tidal wave crashing over the quiet bubble they'd been in. Plankton flinched, his antennae retreating like snails into their shells. Karen offered a forced smile, her eyes darting around the room, searching for an anchor. The dinner table was set with a rainbow of plates and bowls, the smell of garlic bread and seafood stew overwhelming. Hanna's home was a sensory minefield, but Karen was determined to navigate it with grace. Plankton's hand was cold in hers, a silent plea for rescue. As they sit, Karen scans the table, noticing the flickering candles, the glint of silverware, and the clinking of glasses. Each detail a potential trigger. She whispers into Plankton's ear, "Remember, if you need to, just tell me." He nods, his antennae tucking closer to his head.

KAREN HAS A LESSON pt. 7 (Autistic author) Sponge Bob leaves, and it's bed time. The room is dimly lit. Karen helps Plankton into bed, his movements stiff and unyielding. "Pattern," he murmurs, his eye scanning the ceiling. "Ceiling. Pattern." Karen nods with love. "It's beautiful," she agrees, her voice soft. "But Plankton, it's time for bed. Can I get you anything?" He shakes his head, his antennas drooping slightly. "No, thank Karen. Pattern. Sleep." Karen nods, aching for the man she loves, now lost in a world of patterns and precision. "I'll be here if you need me," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. He nods, his gaze never leaving the ceiling. "Pattern," he murmurs. "Safe." Karen lies beside him, their bodies close but their worlds feeling so far apart. She reaches out, her hand trembling as it touches his arm. "Do you want me to turn the lights off?" she asks, her voice tight with uncertainty. Plankton nods, his gaze still on the ceiling. "Pattern," he murmurs. "No patterns. Sleep." Karen nods, her fingers tracing the outline of his arm, feeling the tension in his body ease slightly. She gently pulls the blanket up to his chin, tucking it in around him. "Okay, I'll keep the light off low," she says, her voice soothing. "But if you need anything, just let me know." Plankton's antennae twitch slightly. "Pattern," he murmurs. "Sleep." Karen nods, her own exhaustion weighing heavily on her shoulders. She lies down. "I'll be right here," she whispers, her hand finding its way to his. Plankton's antennae twitch again as he feels her warmth, the sensation unexpected and slightly overwhelming. "Karen," he says, his voice sleepy. "Warmth." Karen smiles, her eyes closed. "I know," she whispers. "It's okay. I'm here." Plankton's grip tightens slightly, his antennae relaxing. "Pattern," he says, his voice a mere murmur. "Karen. Sleep." Karen squeezes his hand back, aching for the man she loves, now lost in a world where the simple act of holding hands is a complex dance of sensory input and emotional regulation. "Pattern," she whispers back, her voice soothing. "We'll make new patterns together." Plankton's antennae quiver, his grip on her hand steadying. "New patterns," he repeats, his voice slightly more present. "Together." Karen nods, her eyes squeezed shut. "Together," she whispers, her voice shaky. "We'll make it work." Karen can feel Plankton's body begin to relax, his grip on her hand loosening slightly. As they lay there, Karen thinks back to their past anniversaries, each one filled with laughter, love, and the promise of adventure. This one was different, marked by a stark reality she wasn't prepared for. But she knows she'll do anything for him. Plankton's breathing evens out, his body slowly releasing tension. His hand is still in hers, a silent promise that she'll always be there for him. Karen wonders what tomorrow will bring, how they'll navigate this new world of patterns and precision. As sleep takes over, she whispers, "I love you, Plankton," hoping that his subconscious can still hear her, still understand the depth of her feelings. Karen listens to the sound of Plankton's snoring as she falls asleep. The next morning, Karen wakes up to Plankton still holding her hand as his antennae twitch in his sleep. She gently withdraws, careful not to wake him, and she can't help but smile through her tears that threaten to fall. In the kitchen, she starts making breakfast, trying to recall what she'd read about autistic individuals and their preferences. She remembers that Plankton used to love Krabby Patties, but now his taste might have changed. With care, she prepares a plate of square eggs and perfectly aligned toast, knowing that the visual symmetry might provide comfort. She even arranges the condiments in a pattern she hopes he'll find pleasing. As Plankton enters the room, his eye immediately scans the table, his antennae twitching. He takes a seat, his movements mechanical. "Breakfast," he says, his voice devoid of his usual zest. Karen's watching him closely. "Yes, Plankton," she says, her voice steady despite the fear swirling inside her. "I made you your favorite." He nods, his gaze locking onto the plate before him. His hand reaches out, his movements calculated. He picks up a piece of toast, studying it before placing it back down. "Pattern," he whispers, his antennae waving slightly. Karen watches him. "Would you like to eat?" she asks, her voice tentative. Plankton's antennae wave slightly. "Eat," he says, his voice flat. "Pattern." Karen nods, her smile forced. "Okay," she says, taking a seat opposite him. "Let's eat together." Plankton's antennae twitch as he looks at her, his gaze quickly shifting to the breakfast she's prepared. He picks up a piece of toast, examining it closely before taking a bite, his jaws moving in a precise, mechanical manner. Karen watches him, her screen filled with a mix of worry and love. "Is it good?" she asks, her voice hopeful. Plankton nods, his mouth still chewing. "Symmetry. Good." Karen's heart squeezes at his response. It's not the same, but it's something. "I'm so glad you like it," she says, forcing cheerfulness into her tone. "That makes me happy!" Plankton nods, his antennae barely moving. "Happy," he repeats. "Karen happy."

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.

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KAREN REACHING AUTISM pt. 3 (Autistic author) Karen doesn't yet realize the extent of Plankton's distress. She's aware that his moods can swing like the tides, but this seems more than a mere mood swing. "Mr. Krabs," she prompts, trying to keep him on track. "What happened with him?" Plankton's eye widens, and he starts to shiver, his tiny body trembling. "Hit," he whispers. "Hit Plankton hit. Sponge Bob see." Karen's screens flicker, trying to decode his fragmented words. "Mr. Krabs hit you?" He nods, his body still trembling. "Yes, hit Plankton." Karen's screens process the information. "That's not like him," she says, her voice a low hum of concern. "Mr. Krabs can be intense, but he's never..." Her words hang in the air, unfinished, as she tries to make sense of it all. Plankton simply nods, his tremors continuing. "Hit, hit," he whispers again, his voice like a broken record. Oblivious to his new reality, Karen tries to comfort him. "It's okay, Plankton. I'll help you. We'll get through this." Plankton's eye darts around the room, seeing patterns in the wires and circuits that make no sense. "Hit, Sponge Bob, Karen." Karen's screens flicker with confusion. "What do you mean?" Plankton tries to explain, but the words are a jumble in his head. "Sponge Bob...saw...hit." Karen's screens blink, processing his words. "Sponge Bob saw Mr. Krabs hit you?" Plankton nods, his tremors subsiding slightly. "Yes," he whispers. "Sponge Bob see." Karen's digital mind races. Mr. Krabs hitting Plankton wasn't unheard of, but the way he's reacting is unusual. "Did it hurt?" she asks, trying to keep him talking. Plankton's tremors stop for a moment, his eye focusing on her. "Hurt?" he repeats, as if the word is foreign. Then, with a wave of emotion, he nods fervently. "Yes, hurt. Got hurt Plankton felt hurt. Plankton, nothing? Plankton Sponge Bob. Plankton Karen." Karen's screens blink rapidly. Her husband's mental state has never been like this before. The idea of him feeling pain beyond the physical was alien to her programming. "What do you mean, 'Plankton nothing'?" she asks, trying to piece together his scattered thoughts. Plankton sighs, the exhaustion seeping into his voice. "Hit, hurt Plankton. Plankton fading. Plankton find Sponge Bob. Plankton now Karen. Can't stop, can't think. Take your time, take your time." Karen's screens change from confusion to determination. "I'll find Sponge Bob," she says, her voice a firm beep. "You stay here and rest." Plankton nods, his body finally still. The mention of Sponge Bob's name brings a flicker of something to his eye, a glimmer of hope or perhaps desperation. "Find Sponge Bob," he whispers, his voice now a faint echo. "Sponge Bob tell Karen." Karen's screens flicker with understanding. "I will," she says, her voice a soft beep. She leaves the room, her wheels whirring as she exits the Chum Bucket. She goes to Sponge Bob.

COPEPOD AUTISM pt. 4 (Neurodivergent author) Mr. Krabs's expression shifts from shock to one of bewilderment. "Plankton, I don't understand," he says, his voice barely a whisper. Plankton shakes his head, his antennae trembling. "You never did," he snaps back. The accusations come out in a torrent, each one cutting deeper than the last. "You used me, manipulated me, all for your stupid secret formula!" His voice shakes with anger, his eye filling with unshed tears. Karen's grip tightens on his arm, but she doesn't speak, knowing he needs this moment of release. Mr. Krabs's face falls, the weight of Plankton's words a blow he wasn't expecting. "I-I-I've always treated ya like a friend!" he stammers, his claws grabbing Plankton's shoulders. And that's what did it. Plankton's body tenses, and his eye rolls back in his head. A chilling silence descends as his legs give out, and he crashes to the floor. His body convulses, limbs flailing uncontrollably. Karen knew it'd happen, but seeing it happen to Plankton is a horror she wasn't emotionally prepared for, but she knew to stay calm. She knew the protocol. Mr. Krabs, still in shock from Plankton's accusations, watches the scene unfold with horror. "What's happening?" he stammers, his claws hovering uselessly. Karen's voice is a beacon of calm amidst the chaos. "It's a seizure," she explains, kneeling beside her husband. "I need you to stay calm." Her voice is steady, her eyes never leaving Plankton's contorting form. Mr. Krabs nods, his eyes widening with fear. He's read about this, seen it once in a medical textbook, but never thought it would happen to someone so close. He watches as Karen carefully moves any objects out of harm's way, cushioning Plankton's head with a pillow. The room seems to spin around them, each second stretching into eternity. The seizure lasts only a few moments, but to Karen, it feels like hours. When it's over, Plankton's body goes still, his breathing shallow. Her hand shakes as she checks his pulse, feeling the thunder of her own heart in her chest. "It's okay," she whispers, her voice trembling. "You're okay." Mr. Krabs is unsure. "It's okay," she murmurs, her hand stroking his antennae. "It's over now." Plankton's breathing deepens, his body slowly relaxing with a twitch. She looks at Mr. Krabs, her expression a mix of relief and exhaustion. "He'll be okay," she assures, her voice a lifeline in the storm of silence. Mr. Krabs nods, still in shock. "What...what do we do?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. Karen sighs, knowing the road ahead won't be easy, but she's determined to navigate it with Plankton. They manage to get Plankton to his feet, his body weak and his mind still groggy from the seizure. His eye darts around the room, trying to make sense of his surroundings. Karen's voice is soft, a gentle guide leading him back to reality. "Let's go to the couch," she says, her arm supporting his weight. Mr. Krabs watches, his claws fidgeting nervously. "Should I... call someone?" he asks, his voice full of uncertainty. Karen shakes her head. "We have to keep it calm," she whispers. "The aftermath can be just as overwhelming." They sit on the couch, Plankton's body leaning heavily into hers. Her arm is around him, her hand stroking his antennae in a rhythm designed to soothe. He looks up at her, his eye still a little wild. "What happened?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. "You had a seizure," Karen explains gently, her voice a balm to his frayed nerves. "It's part of your autism, sweetie. It's okay." She can see the fear in his gaze, the unspoken questions. She pulls a blanket over his shoulders, his body shaking from the residual adrenaline. Plankton nods, his antennae twitching as he tries to process the information. He looks down at his trembling hands, wondering how they could have betrayed him so suddenly. Karen hands him a glass of water, her fingers brushing against his in a silent promise of support. He takes a sip, the cool liquid sliding down his throat, helping to clear the fog in his mind. "I'm...sorry," Plankton mumbles, his voice barely a whisper. He looks up at Mr. Krabs, who's still standing awkwardly by the door. "I didn't mean to...to accuse you..." His antennae droop with regret. Mr. Krabs's expression softens, his eyes filling with understanding. "It's okay, Plankton," he says, his voice gentle. "We all have our moments." He takes a tentative step forward. "What can I do?" Karen glances at him, gratitude warring with the protectiveness she feels for Plankton. "Just give us some space," she says, her tone firm but not unkind. "We need to get him through this." Mr. Krabs nods slowly, his face a mix of sadness and concern. "I understand," he says, his voice thick. He backs out of the room, his eyes never leaving Plankton's huddled form. The door clicks shut, and the room feels smaller, safer. Karen's arm tightens around his shoulders, her warmth a shield against the cold world outside. Plankton leans into her, his body still shaking slightly. He starts to calm down, the tremors fading like ripples in a pond. "I'm...I'm okay," he whispers, his antennae stilling. Karen nods, her eyes searching his face for any sign of distress. "Do you want to take a nap?" she suggests softly. Plankton nods, his eye drooping with exhaustion. They move to the bedroom, the light dimming as they go. Karen helps him into bed, his limbs feeling like jelly. The blankets are a cocoon, his retreat from the world. Her hand brushes his antennae, a silent assurance as she leaves him to the embrace of slumber. He closes his eye, letting the comfort of the darkness envelop him. His body relaxes into the softness of the mattress, his muscles melting away the tension of the day. The bed's embrace is like a gentle whisper, telling his overstimulated mind to rest, to let go. He sighs, his antennae dropping to the pillow like tired leaves in the fall. Meanwhile, Karen goes to Mr. Krabs, who's waiting outside the chum bucket. "I'm sorry for Plankton's outburst," she says, her eyes apologetic. Mr. Krabs waves a dismissive claw. "Don't worry 'bout it," he says. "He's been through a lot today." Karen nods, her expression serious. "It's more than that," she says, her voice low. "He's autistic." Mr. Krabs's eyes widen, his understanding dawning, a newfound respect in his gaze. "I had no idea," he murmurs. "How can I help?" "Just be patient," Karen replies. "And maybe...maybe we can talk later, after he's had some rest." Mr. Krabs nods, his expression thoughtful. "Of course," he says, his voice subdued. "Whatever he needs."

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."

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.

please dont put gross stuff here ! keep it to yourself or post it elsewhere, their is kids around 9 and a few years up here just trying to find cute symbols !! this is a safe space ^^ spread the word please :3

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

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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠝⠛⠀⡠⢊⣠⠾⠗⡾⠁⢳⠀⣽⡄⠀⢘⠾⣊⠴⢋⡵⢫⣷⣃⢀⠔⠁⣿⠆⠀⠀⡞⢁⠀⠴⠛⠘⣀⣔⡬⢖⠋⠁⢀⠔⣶⡟⠡⢈⡕⠛⠠⠂⠀⣰⠋⠀⡰⠁⢀⣧⢡⡎⢀⠟⠀⣸⢹⠀⢸⠀⡸⠀⠀⣾⠁⠀⡌⠀⣀⡸⠙⣄⠶⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠀⠀⣰⣪⠖⠋⠀⢀⠜⢀⢌⠜⡆⣿⠼⣺⢗⣟⣡⡎⢡⠃⣤⠹⠘⠢⡤⢄⣛⡐⠠⠼⠍⠐⠀⣀⡤⡞⠉⠁⣤⠋⢀⠔⠁⣼⠏⠐⢠⠎⠐⠰⠃⠀⡼⠁⠀⡜⠀⡰⣻⢃⡞⠀⣸⠃⢀⡟⢰⠀⢸⠀⣷⠀⣸⠁⠀⡘⠀⣼⡿⠁⢠⢏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢦⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢎⣸⠃⠀⠀⡠⢃⣴⠟⣡⣴⣿⣷⠛⠛⡈⡇⢠⠗⢸⣾⠸⡇⠀⠀⠈⠑⡾⣫⢒⣴⣶⢟⠵⢡⠌⠀⠀⠔⠃⡠⠁⠀⣾⢋⠌⡰⠁⠀⠠⢁⡄⠐⠀⠀⢞⡒⡰⢠⡏⡾⢠⢧⡏⠀⢺⠯⢥⠀⢸⠀⡽⢠⠃⠀⡰⠇⣸⠗⠃⢠⢳⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠷⡄⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣨⣢⢔⣡⠖⢫⠽⠑⡟⠉⢸⢯⢏⠉⣵⡇⣸⠀⢘⢨⠃⡁⠓⠒⢢⢞⢜⣥⣫⣿⡧⠃⠀⡌⠀⠀⠈⠀⠊⠀⠀⣼⠃⠊⡐⠀⠀⢠⠣⡞⢠⡆⠀⡎⠀⠀⠁⣼⡝⢠⠟⡸⠀⠀⢸⢐⣸⠂⢸⠀⡇⢂⠄⡠⣧⣷⠏⠀⢠⡇⡈⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⡆⠀⢰⡆⠀⢠⣾⣷⠀⢀⣾⠀⠀⣾⠆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⡆ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠚⠿⠚⠋⠁⠌⠁⡠⠊⡐⣡⢟⡌⡈⢒⡏⢰⢸⢰⢸⢺⡄⠀⢀⡴⣷⢿⠏⢈⣿⠟⠷⢆⡤⢀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣏⠌⡔⠀⠀⠀⣆⠾⢁⡞⡇⡜⠀⠀⠀⣀⣯⡴⣥⢷⠓⠒⠋⠉⠡⢸⠀⢸⠀⠇⠎⣠⠱⢸⠇⠀⢠⠃⢠⢁⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣷⢀⡿⢁⣴⠟⣹⣿⠀⣾⣷⣶⣾⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⡇ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠔⠋⣀⣪⠞⡑⢁⢧⠙⠀⢇⢸⣿⢺⡞⡚⡯⢴⡙⠉⢀⡐⠂⡘⡞⠀⠅⠠⠉⠁⠚⠣⠝⣔⠶⣀⠀⠁⡰⠀⠀⠀⠀⡏⣄⡜⠀⡷⢓⣢⠿⠍⠛⠋⠠⡡⠂⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⢀⡇⢨⠀⣶⡜⢸⠀⡟⠀⠀⢆⣠⠃⡈⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⠉⣿⣿⢃⣾⠿⠟⢻⣟⣸⡟⠁⢠⡿⠁⢀⣴⠆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡇ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠴⠞⠧⠜⠋⢁⠂⠌⡰⢃⣾⣦⠀⢸⡀⣿⣄⢁⠇⠀⠀⢯⣝⣖⣿⣯⣿⣒⡭⠥⣐⡒⠤⢀⠀⠀⠈⠉⡛⢆⢠⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠑⠋⢀⣀⠻⠉⠁⠀⠀⢀⡠⠔⣒⣀⣭⣝⣛⣫⣿⣿⣧⠘⠀⣳⠀⣼⢠⠃⠀⠀⠸⣹⢀⠃⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠃⠀⠘⠃⠘⠃⠀⠀⠙⠋⠛⠀⠀⠙⠃⢠⠞⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠃ 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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣯⣳⠀⠹⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠰⠦⠄⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⡀⠠⠴⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⢀⡜⠁⠀⡰⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⢋⠖⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⢌⡆⠀⠈⢷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠨⡙⢿⣿⣛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠻⣛⣩⢿⡋⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡴⠋⠀⢀⣴⠿⣿⠅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠗⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡏⠳⣵⠀⠀⠀⠹⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠑⠦⣤⣤⣭⣭⣭⣭⣭⢩⡭⠖⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡴⠋⠀⠀⠀⣲⠯⢸⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢳⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡴⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⡿⢌⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠩⡿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠎⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢐⡺⢁⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣼⣧⠀⢈⠢⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢘⣝⢿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠒⠁⠀⢸⢹⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠑⢌⢲⣀⠀⠀⠀⠳⣅⡫⠳⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⡽⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⢳⣍⠣⡀⠀⠀⠀⢻⡟⠆⠈⠹⠶⣤⣀⣀⣀⣀⡀⣀⢀⣀⣀⣠⣴⠿⣛⢝⡃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣶⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣆⠀⠀⠈⢯⡫⡳⡀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣯⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠙⠙⠋⠛⠙⢫⣍⡳⢎⠋⠀⠀⠀⣠⡴⠖⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀⠈⡟⣬⡑⠄⠀⠀⠀⠱⡷⣂⠤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣜⣪⡍⠀⠀⠀⠀⡰⠏⠁⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣄⠸⡦⡋⡦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢎⠙⠕⣓⠂⠤⢀⢠⠄⠀⠀⠜⠳⠋⠀⠀⠀⢀⡾⢋⡥⠴⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣤⣴⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣌⡢⡹⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⡖⠔⣒⡠⠄⡭⠃⠀⠀⠐⡺⠁⠀⠀⢀⡴⢿⡙⠃⣐⠒⠉⠁⢀⣠⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣀⣠⣴⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣧⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠻⠅⡒⠄⢹⡁⠀⠀⠀⢻⠀⠀⠀⢠⣾⣿⡋⢠⠑⢀⣃⣤⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⣄⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣤⣤⣀⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣾⣿⣿⡿⠻⠿⣿⣿⣿⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⠿⣦⣤⡀⠀⠙⣿⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⠁⠘⠿⠿⢡⣾⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⡏⠀⠀⣀⢿⣿⠏⣻⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡿⢷⣄⠈⠙⠿⢧⣾⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡇⠀⠈⠳⢦⣤⡟⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣼⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣠⡤⣤⢶⣾⠙⣧⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣻⡟⢳⣦⣄⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⡏⡇⠀⠀⠈⠁⡟⢧⠘⣟⠿⢤⡤⠤⣾⠏⣠⣿⡁⡽⡝⡿⡟⢦⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣧⡇⠀⠀⠀⢠⡇⠈⢧⡘⢯⡓⢒⡶⢋⡴⠋⣻⣆⡇⢹⡀⣇⣾⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢀⡏⠃⣿⢹⡃⠆⠀⢠⠟⠀⠀⠀⠙⣆⠙⠋⡤⢞⣀⡀⢃⣻⡿⠀⢷⣿⣿⣇⢹⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⡼⠀⠀⣻⣼⠁⠀⠀⠀⢀⡖⠀⢀⠀⢹⡏⠈⠀⠊⠉⠁⠈⠛⠒⠂⠈⣿⣿⡿⠀⢳⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢰⠃⠀⠀⢸⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠋⠀⠀⠀⠈⣷⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⡿⢹⡇⠀⠘⣇⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢠⡿⢙⡆⠁⡀⢿⠀⠀⢺⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⢹⣿⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⣿⡾⢰⠀⠀⠸⡆⠀⠀ ⠀⣼⡏⢸⠡⠀⡇⢸⠀⠀⠘⠛⠂⠀⠀⠶⠀⢸⢸⡉⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡇⣼⣴⣾⣷⣿⡄⠀ ⢸⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠃⢸⡄⠀⠀⣀⣤⠄⠀⠀⠀⣸⠋⡇⠀⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡇⡟⠛⢿⣿⣟⣷⡀ ⠈⠉⠙⣿⣷⣲⣦⣼⡇⠀⢸⠁⢈⡁⠀⠀⣠⠗⠉⡇⠠⡧⠝⢂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡅⠃⠞⢸⣿⣦⣩⡧

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⢀⣀⣀⣀⣠⣴⣴⣾⡗⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢡⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠁⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⢠⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠁⠀⢀⣾⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠉⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⠋⠀⢀⣤⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣾⣿⣿⠟⠻⢂⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⣿⣿⠏⠁⠀⠐⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⢘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⢀⡀ ⠀⢀⣴⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢨⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⢸⣿ ⣴⣿⣋⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⣀⣠⢼⣿ ⠙⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠛⠛⠚⠋ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢠⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⢿⢿⡷⣾⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⡦⡀

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⠤⠶⠶⣖⡛⠛⠿⠿⠯⠭⠍⠉⣉⠛⠚⠛⠲⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢀⡴⠋⠁⠀⡉⠁⢐⣒⠒⠈⠁⠀⠀⠀⠈⠁⢂⢅⡂⠀⠀⠘⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⣼⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣤⣤⣄⡈⠈⠀⠀⠀⠘⣇⠀⠀⠀ ⢠⡾⠡⠄⠀⠀⠾⠿⠿⣷⣦⣤⠀⠀⣾⣋⡤⠿⠿⠿⠿⠆⠠⢀⣀⡒⠼⢷⣄⠀ ⣿⠊⠊⠶⠶⢦⣄⡄⠀⢀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠈⠁⠀⠀⠙⠳⠦⠶⠞⢋⣍⠉⢳⡄⠈⣧ ⢹⣆⡂⢀⣿⠀⠀⡀⢴⣟⠁⠀⢀⣠⣘⢳⡖⠀⠀⣀⣠⡴⠞⠋⣽⠷⢠⠇⠀⣼ ⠀⢻⡀⢸⣿⣷⢦⣄⣀⣈⣳⣆⣀⣀⣤⣭⣴⠚⠛⠉⣹⣧⡴⣾⠋⠀⠀⣘⡼⠃ ⠀⢸⡇⢸⣷⣿⣤⣏⣉⣙⣏⣉⣹⣁⣀⣠⣼⣶⡾⠟⢻⣇⡼⠁⠀⠀⣰⠋⠀⠀ ⠀⢸⡇⠸⣿⡿⣿⢿⡿⢿⣿⠿⠿⣿⠛⠉⠉⢧⠀⣠⡴⠋⠀⠀⠀⣠⠇⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢸⠀⠀⠹⢯⣽⣆⣷⣀⣻⣀⣀⣿⣄⣤⣴⠾⢛⡉⢄⡢⢔⣠⠞⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠢⣀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠉⠉⣉⣀⠠⣐⠦⠑⣊⡥⠞⠋⠀⠀⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢸⡀⠀⠁⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠒⠈⠁⣀⡤⠞⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠙⠶⢤⣤⣤⣤⣤⡤⠴ ⠀

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❹,4

ɛ:

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fun fact! most school computers have this site unblocked. typing this at historyyy!!!

✞ v˖ ࣪ ˒ᥫ᭡^᪲᪲᪲.ᐟ๋࣭ ⭑⚝Ʀ

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⣿⣿⠿⠛⣉⣉⣉⣉⠛⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡿⢁⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⣌⡙⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠁⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣤⡉⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡄⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣄⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠛⠛⢉⠋⠛⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣷⣄⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣤⡙⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⢉⣤⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⡈⠻⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣷⣄⡙⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⡈⠻⡿⢁⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⢹⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣤⣉⠛⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⢸⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢛⣉⣀⠀⠙⣨⣤⣭⠙⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⠀⢾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⢻⢸⣿⡟⢸⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⣿⣿⣿⣧⣸⣿⣿⣿⡇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠸⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⢀⣿⣿⣯⡇⢸⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣆⠛⢿⡏⣡⣶⡌⢻⣟⠁⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣤⡉⠛⠿⠿⠿⠛⢋⣠⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⣾⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⢰⣿⣷⣬⢉⣵⣿⣿⣧⢈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣶⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣏⠇⣸⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠘⠿⠿⠟⢁⡙⠛⠛⢋⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⠀⢿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⢀⣿⣷⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⠿⠿⢿⡿⠿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⢻⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠁⣿⣿⣿⣿⢋⣭⣭⠡⠾⢟⣂⣒⡻⠷⠌⠵⢶⣍⠻⣛⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠈⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢸⣿⢋⣴⡦⢊⣥⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣶⣬⣌⡛⠿⠌⣛⡛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⡅⢸ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢸⢑⡸⢁⣾⡟⠉⠈⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣝⠻⡆⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⢸ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠀⢾⠃⣿⣿⠁⠀⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠿⣿⣷⣌⠻⡆⣙⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠠ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣄⢠⡀⣿⣿⣷⣤⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⠛⣛⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠘⣿⣿⣦⣱⣌⢻⣿⣿⣿⡇⡏⢰ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣎⠣⠹⢛⣙⣛⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣤⣭⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⡇⠛⣸⣽⣿⡟⡻⢁⣾ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⣴⣿⣿⣯⠁⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠛⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⣼⢼⣾⣟⠟⢁⣾⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⠙⠛⠟⣙⡻⣦⣿⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⡀⢡⠞⠛⣁⣴⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡈⣿⣿⣿⣇⠀⣶⣿⠆⠿⠦⠀⣰⣾⢂⣉⣛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠋⢁⣺⣥⣤⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣌⠛⠿⣿⣷⣤⠀⣀⠳⢢⣢⢲⠧⠘⠿⠿⠿⠿⠛⠋⠉⠉⡀⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣤⠌⢉⡄⣈⠑⠛⠛⠂⠚⠓⠒⠀⠀⡀⢩⣴⣶⣶⡌⢢⡘⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⣴⣿⠟⡅⠚⠘⠂⡽⢻⣿⣬⣿⣷⡄⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠒⠘⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⠴⣋⡅⣚⣥⣾⣿⣧⣙⠂⢭⡛⠻⠿⠃⡌⠛⢿⣿⣃⣼⠟⠈⢨⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⣐⣣⣶⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢻⠘⣶⣦⣍⠁⠐⠐⠰⠌⠉⠋⠁⠄⠶⠂⠊⢙⢻⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⣸⣿⣿⣇⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡀⣿⣿⣿⠀⡻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⡶⠂⢉⣾⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣠⡙⠛⠻⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⡇⢿⣦⣭⣝⡋⠶⢙⣫⣥⣴⡇⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣦⣙⣂⠶⠦⠠⣤⠤⣄⡀⣡⣀⢠⣀⠄⣤⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⡿⢱⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠐⠶⠶⠄⠀⠼⣦⡲⠔⠾⣶⣶⣶⠶⠖⠀⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣄⠛⠶⠶⠀⢿⣶⣤⣤⣘⣣⣤⣤⣤⣶⡞⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣶⣶⣤⣤⣁⣉⣉⣉⣉⣡⣌⣤⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿

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

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( ⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝)

@@sFERN

e††|ℹ§ƒʟi️̤̮🇪ᡣ𐭩ᯓ★ᯓᡣ𐭩<𝟑ֶָ֢€∞જ⁀➴⋆₊ ⊹୧℮ᥫ᭡ƦИᥫ᭡.nྀིNྀིძℊ.ᐟТּ ֶָ֢.ℋᯓ ᡣ𐭩౨ৎ༯ʚɞαྀིᝰ.ᐟ⁷⁷⁷ㅤ󠁑󠁉󠁍🌱😁🌐🕸┃☠️☎️☎☏@▶️↪⌂⌨️⌗▶9443872

e☀️❌❤️➡️☕✅✨👤•🎯⏳💬✈️2️⃣3️⃣4️⃣🔥💥🔗🎮☆⚙️⌖♡★▶ⓕ💻🌏🍃✝🌎💯➜🌍🅾🆗♾🤗☑5️⃣⏱️⛔👀💡📌🔫✔️ 🌱🛕❄️⚠️⚔️🎁✝️✍🌐🗣️✔️┃☎️☎☏@╰┈➤

★★★★★

ᴸⁱᵗʰᵖ Part 1 ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ᵃ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ‧ ᴰᵉˢᵖⁱᵗᵉ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵉⁿᵗⁱᵉⁿᵗ ˢʰᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵃⁿ ᵒʳᵍᵃⁿⁱᶜ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ʰᵉʳ ᵒʷⁿ ᵉᵐᵒᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿᵃˡⁱᵗʸ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵘⁿᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵖʳᵒᶜᵉˢˢ ᵗᵒᵘᶜʰ ᵒʳ ᵖʳᵉˢˢᵘʳᵉ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ˡⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ‧ ᔆʰᵉ'ˢ ᶜᵃᵖᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵒᶠ 'ˢⁱᵍʰᵗ' ᵃⁿᵈ 'ʰᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ' ᵇᵘᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵐᵉ ʷᵃʸ ᵖʳᵒᶜᵉˢˢᵉᵈ‧ ᴬⁿᵈ ˢʰᵉ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵃⁿᵈˢ ᵈⁱᵛᵉʳˢⁱᵗʸ‧ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵉˣʰⁱᵇⁱᵗˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ᵉᵐᵒᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵉⁿˢᵉˢ ᵃˡˢᵒ‧ ᴴᵉ'ˢ ᵘⁿⁱᑫᵘᵉ‧ ᔆʰᵉ'ˢ ˡᵉᵃʳⁿᵗ ʰᵒʷ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵖʰᵉʳ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ⁿᵉᵉᵈˢ⸴ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʷᵃⁿᵗˢ ᵖʳᵉᶠᵉʳᵉⁿᶜᵉˢ‧ ᴰᵉˢᵖⁱᵗᵉ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵈⁱᶠᶠᵉʳᵉⁿᵗ ʷᵃʸˢ ˢʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵈᵉⁿᵗᵃˡ ᵃᵖᵖᵒⁱⁿᵗᵐᵉⁿᵗ ⁿᵒʷ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉʳʸ ᶠᵒʳ ʳᵉᵃʳ ᵐᵒˢᵗ ᵐᵒˡᵃʳˢ ʳᵉᵐᵒᵛᵉᵈ‧ ᴬⁿᵈ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵐᵉᵈⁱᶜⁱⁿᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ ᔆⁱⁿᶜᵉ ˢʰᵉ'ˢ ᵃ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ⸴ ᵗʰᵉʸ ˡᵉᵗ ʰᵉʳ ˢᵗᵃʸ ᵈᵘʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉⁿᵗⁱʳᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ ⁱⁿ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉʳʸ‧ ᴱᵛᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵘⁿᵃʳᵒᵘˢᵃᵇˡᵉ ˢʰᵉ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ˢᵘʳᵉ ᵗᵒ ʰᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʷᵒʳᵏᵉᵈ‧ ᔆᵒ ⁿᵒʷ⸴ ᶠⁱⁿⁱˢʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉʸ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵃᵈᵐⁱⁿⁱˢᵗʳᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵒᶠ ⁱⁿᵈᵘᶜⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵃᵉˢᵗʰᵉˢⁱᵃ‧ "ᴰᵒⁿᵉ⸴ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ⸴ ʷⁱᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵈʳᵒᵒˡ‧ "ᴬˡˡ ᶠⁱⁿⁱˢʰᵉᵈ!" ᵀʰᵉʸ ᵖᵘᵗ ᵍᵃᵘᶻᵉ ⁱⁿ ʷʰᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵒᵖᵉⁿˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ‧ ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵃ ᵐᵒᵐᵉⁿᵗ⸴ ʰᵉ ʳᵉᵃᶜʰᵉˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵃʳᵐˢ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ "ᴴᵉʰ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵉᵗˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵃʳᵐˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵈᵒʷⁿ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᶠʳᵉᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ!" "ᴴᵉʷʷᵒ‽" "ᴴⁱ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧" "ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷⁱˡˡ ʰᵉˡᵖ ʸᵒᵘ‧" "ᴵ ᵐᵃʷʷⁱᵉᵈ?" "ᴰᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵒʳʳʸ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ⁿᵒʳᵐᵃˡ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ʲᵘᵐᵇˡᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ‧" "ᵀʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ‧ ᴸᵉᵗ'ˢ ᵍᵒ!" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʰᵉˡᵖˢ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵉᵃⁿ ᵘᵖ‧ "ᵂᵘᶻ?" ᔆʰᵉ'ˢ ᶜᵃʳʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵏᵉᵖᵗ ᵃˡᵐᵒˢᵗ ᶠᵃˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ʰᵉˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴵ ᵗʰᵉᵉ ʸᵒᵘ; ᴵ ᵗʰᵉᵉ ᶜᵒˡᵒᵘʳˢ!" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵃᶜᵗ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ʰᵉ'ˢ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵒʷ⸴ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᶜᵒᵐⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵃⁿᵃᵉˢᵗʰᵉˢⁱᵃ‧ "ᵀʳʸ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵃˡᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ʸᵒᵘ ʷⁱˡˡ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ʷᵒʳˢᵉ ⁱⁿ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʲᵃʷ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿ ʰᵒʷ ᵉᵐᵇᵃʳʳᵃˢˢᵉᵈ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ʷᵒʳᵗʰ ⁱⁿ ᵐʸ ᵗʰᵃʷ?" "ᴰᵉⁿᵗⁱˢᵗˢ ᵖᵉʳᶠᵒʳᵐᵉᵈ ᵃ ᵖʳᵒᶜᵉᵈᵘʳᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵗᵉᵉᵗʰⁱᵉˢ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ʰᵒⁿ‧‧" "ᶠᵉᵉˡ ⁿᵘᶠᶠⁱⁿ’ ʷⁱᶠᶠ ᵐʸ ᵐᵒᵘᶠ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈˢ ᶜᵒᵛᵉʳᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵍˡᵒᵇˢ ᵒᶠ ᵈʳᵒᵒˡ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵏᵉᵖᵗ ᵒⁿ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᶜˡᵃᵖ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ⁿᵒⁱˢᵉ⸴ ᵇᵘᵇᵇˡʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍⁱᵍᵍˡⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴬʳʳⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ⸴ ˢʰᵉ ᶠᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ⁱᶜᵉ ᶜʳᵉᵃᵐ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ʳᵉᵐᵒᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵃᵘᶻᵉ‧ ᔆᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿˡʸ ᵃ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ‧ "ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵍᵉᵗ ⁱᵗ‧" ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴴᵃⁿⁿᵃ⸴ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ᵇᵉˢᵗ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢ⸴ ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵒᵖ ᵇʸ ᵘⁿᵃⁿⁿᵒᵘⁿᶜᵉᵈ‧ "ᴵˢ ⁿᵒʷ ᵃ ᵇᵃᵈ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ‧‧‧" "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‽" ᵀʰᵉʸ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵈ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠⁱⁿⁱˢʰᵉᵈ ⁱᶜᵉ ᶜʳᵉᵃᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ˢⁱᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ‧ "ᴾʷᵉᵃˢᵉ ᵒʰ⸴ ᴵ ᶠᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᵐᵉ!" ᴴᵉ ˢᵃʸˢ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ᵃᶠʳᵃⁱᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵃˢᵏ‧‧" "ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ᵐᵉᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿᵃˡˡʸ ʸᵉᵗ ᵇᵘᵗ‧‧‧" "ᴵ'ᵐ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ! ᔆʰᵉ ˢᵃʸˢ ᴵ'ᵐ ᵐᵃʷʷⁱᵉᵈ!" "ᵂⁱˢᵈᵒᵐ ᵗᵒᵒᵗʰ ʳᵉᵐᵒᵛᵃˡ‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵉˣᵖˡᵃⁱⁿˢ‧ "ᴵ ʰᵃᵇ ᵗᵉᵉᵗʰⁱᵉˢ? ᵂʰᵉʷᵉ ᵈᵉⁿᵗⁱˢᵗ?" "ᔆᵒ ʰᵉ'ˢ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵈᵉᶠⁱⁿⁱᵗᵉˡʸ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ⁱᵗ⸴ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵗᵉˡˡ‧‧" ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ˢᵃʸˢ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ᵗʰᵉᵉ⸴ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉᵉ ᵐᵉ? ᴵ ʷᵘᵛ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃˡˡ⸴ ˢᵒ ᵐᵘᶜʰ!" "ᴵᵗ'ˢ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ˡᵃᵗᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ᵇᵉˡⁱᵉᵛᵉ ᵒʳᵍᵃⁿⁱᶜ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍˢ ᵐᵘˢᵗ ᵍᵉᵗ ʳᵉˢᵗ‧‧" ᴴᵃⁿⁿᵃ ˢᵃʸˢ⸴ ᵖᵃᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈᵉʳ⸴ ˢᵉᵉᵐⁱⁿᵍˡʸ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗˡⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᔆᵒʳʳʸ!" "ᴵᵗ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠᵃᵘˡᵗ ᴴᵃⁿⁿᵃ⸴ ʰᵉ'ˢ ˢᵉⁿˢⁱᵗⁱᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵒᵘᶜʰ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ʰᵉ ˢᵃʷ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵒᵐⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴴᵒʷ ᵈᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵉᵉˡ?" "ᵀⁱʷᵉᵈ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵘᶜᵏˢ ʰⁱᵐ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉʸ ˢʰᵃʳᵉᵈ⸴ ʷⁱˢʰⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ⁿᵃᵖ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᶜᵒⁿˢⁱᵈᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ʳᵉᵖˡᵃᶜⁱⁿᵍ ᵍᵃᵘᶻᵉ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ‧ ᔆᵘʳᵉ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ⸴ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᶠᵃˡˡᵉⁿ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ⸴ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ʰᵃⁿᵍⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵈʳᵒᵒˡˢ/ˢⁿᵒʳᵉˢ‧ ᴵᵗ'ˢ ˡᵃᵗᵉ⸴ ˢᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ᵈ ᶠⁱᵍᵘʳᵉ ʰᵉ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᶠʳᵘˢᵗʳᵃᵗᵉᵈ ⁱᶠ ᶜᵒⁿᶠᵘˢᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ‧ "ᴵ ᵍᵘᵉˢˢ ʷᵉ'ˡˡ ᵍᵒ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ᴮʸᵉ!" ᵀʰᵉʸ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵈᵃʸ⸴ ʰᵉ ʷᵃᵏᵉˢ ᵘᵖ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃᶜʰᵉᵈ ˢᵒʳᵉⁿᵉˢˢ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵈʳᵒᵒˡ‧ 'ᵂʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃᵐ ᴵ?' ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ʷⁱˢᵈᵒᵐ ᵗᵉᵉᵗʰ ᵗᵃᵏᵉⁿ ᵒᵘᵗ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵍⁿⁱˢᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵈ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ʰᵉ'ˢ ˢʰᵃʳᵉᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧ 'ᵂʰᵃᵗ ⁱˢ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ?' "ᴼʷ‧" 'ᴬʰ ᵐʸ ᵍᵘᵐˢ‧ ᴳᵃʰ! ᵂʰᵃᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ?' "ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ?" ᔆʰᵉ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵐᵉᵈⁱᶜⁱⁿᵉ'ˢ ʷᵒʳⁿ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵇʸ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ᴼⁿˡʸ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʳᵒᶜᵉᵈᵘʳᵉ ᵈᵒⁿᵉ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵘⁿᵍʳʸ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃⁿʸ ˢᵒᶠᵗ ᶠᵒᵒᵈ?" "ᴵᶜᵉ ᶜʷᵉᵃᵐ⸴ ᵇᵘ’ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰᵘⁿᵍʷʸ ᶠᵒʷ ᵃ ᵐᵉᵃˡ ʸᵉᵗ‧" 'ᵀᵒ ᵖᵃⁱⁿᶠᵘˡ ᶠᵒʳ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃˡᵏ ⁿᵒʳᵐᵃˡˡʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ˢᵒᵘⁿᵈ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵃ ᵗᵒᵈᵈˡᵉʳ!' "ᴵ ᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵉⁿᵗⁱˢᵗ‧‧" "ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᶠⁱⁿᵉ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁱᶜᵉ ᶜʳᵉᵃᵐ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃᵗᵉ ʸᵉˢᵗᵉʳᵈᵃʸ‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢⁱᵍʰˢ‧ 'ᴰⁱᵈ ᴵ ᵇⁱᵗᵉ ᵐʸ ᵗᵒⁿᵍᵘᵉ?' "ᔆᵒ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵈᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ʳᵉᶜᵃˡˡ?" "ᴳᵒⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉʳʸ⸴ ʰᵒˡᵈⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘʷ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ᵇ'ᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃˢ ᴵ ʷᵒᵏᵉ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ‧ ᴵ ᶠⁱⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃʳʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ?" 'ᔆᵒ ʰᵉ ⁱˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢˡᵘʳʳⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ʷᵒʳᵈˢ ᵃˢ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵃˢ ʸᵉˢᵗᵉʳᵈᵃʸ' ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ⸴ ʷⁱᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᵈʳᵒᵒˡ‧ "ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵉˡˢᵉ‧" "ᵂᵉ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ˢᵗʳᵃⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ʷⁱᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ʳᵘⁿⁿⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵃⁿʸ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿᵃˡˡʸ ᵏⁿᵒʷ‧" "ᴳᵒᵒᵈ‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵒᵐⁱᵗᵗᵉᵈ ᴴᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵃⁿᵈ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ; ˡᵘᶜᵏⁱˡʸ ʰᵉ ˢᵉᵉᵐˢ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᶠᵒʳᵍᵒᵗᵗᵉⁿ‧ "ᴬᵐ ᴵ ᵈʳᵒᵒˡⁱⁿᵍ‽" 'ʸᵉˢ‧' "ᴺᵒᵗ ᵇᵃᵈ‧‧" 'ʸᵉˢ ˢᵒ ᵐᵘᶜʰ‧' ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷⁱᵖᵉˢ ⁱᵗ‧ "ᵂʰᵃᵗ ˢᵒᵘⁿᵈˢ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵒʷ?" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃˢᵏˢ‧ "ᴳᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˢʷᵉᵉᵖ‧‧" "ᴵ ˢᵉᵉ‧ ᵀᵃᵏᵉ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ‧‧" "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᴵ⸴ ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ‧ ᴵ ᵐᵉᵃⁿ ⁱᵗ‧" "ᴶᵘˢᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ‧" "ᔆᵒ ᵈᵒ ᴵ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ to be cont. Pt. Two

Dr. McDermott's dental office. Plankton had been in surgery for wisdom teeth. The receptionist, a young woman named "Samantha," was going up to Karen. "Your husband is to be taken to the recovery," she said, her voice gentle and soothing. Karen nodded. Samantha led her down. Plankton was laid out on a narrow bed, his mouth open slightly. "He's still under," Samantha whispered, "but going to start bringing him out of it now. Waking is a gradual process so.." Karen nodded. She watched as a nurse approached, deftly adjusting tubes and machines connected to him. The nurse flicked a switch and began to decrease the flow. The anesthesia diminished. Plankton's chest continued to rise and fall rhythmically, his eye remained closed. Karen reached out and took his hand, her thumb brushing against his. She squeezed gently, hoping it might provide some comfort, or at least a thread of familiarity, as he began his journey back to consciousness. A few moments later, Plankton's hand twitched ever so slightly in response. "It's ok honey," she whispered, though she knew he couldn't hear. A nurse, named Margaret, offered an assuring smile. "It's normal for it to take time. Just keep talking to him, it'll help." Karen leaned closer, her voice barely above a murmur. "Remember our first date?" she began. Plankton's snore was the only response. "Don't worry, he'll come around soon. Anesthesia can take a while to wear off. And when he does, he'll be groggy. It's like waking up from a deep sleep." Her thoughts drifted to Plankton's snoring, a comforting sound. She squeezed his hand again, trying to will him to wake with her touch. Then, to her surprise, she heard a murmur. "Mm, chum... so... much... chum..." The nurse, Margaret, gave her a knowing look. "It's common for patients to talk in their sleep as they come out of it. Sometimes they say the darndest things." Karen smiles. "Chum?" she repeated, "Is that what you're dreaming about?" "Needff... chum..." "You're ok," she whispered, her voice filled with relief. "You're just dreaming, sweetie." "Chum... I... I nee to... get ith," he slurred. Karen's smile grew, his nonsensical words bringing a small spark of comfort. "You're dreaming about work," she said, stroking his forehead with the back of her hand. The nurse, Margaret, checked the monitors and nodded. "His vitals look good. He'll be fine," she assured. "Remember the first time you made me a Patty?" she asked, her voice soothing. Plankton's grip on her hand tightened slightly, his chest rising and falling with even breaths. "Ith... Ith was’at..." he mumbled. It wasn't often she heard him express his feelings so openly, especially not about her. "What was it, honey?" she prompted, a soft smile playing on her lips. "Youw... youwre the... the besht... the... besht..." his voice trailed off again into snores. Karen chuckled with affection. It was clear he was talking about her, despite the garbled speech. She leaned in closer. "I'm right here," she whispered. Plankton's sleep-talk grew, his grip on her hand tightening. "Pro-tec... the secret... chum... fwom... Plankton..." "You're safe," she said, her voice a soothing whisper. "You don't have to worry about the recipe now." Plankton's slurred words continued. "Fwom... Plankton... ith... ith... my... my... hearth..." It was almost as if he was speaking to it, whispering sweet nothings in his sleep. "Your... your heart?" she repeated uncertainly, trying to make sense of his words. Plankton's chest rose and fell in a slow, steady rhythm, his hand still clutching hers tightly. A faint moan escaped Plankton's lips, and his eye began to flutter open. His eye searched the room, unfocused and glazed. He blinked slowly, a look of confusion spreading across his face. The nurse stood by, monitoring, ready to intervene if needed. "Karen?" he croaked, his voice slurred from the anesthesia. She squeezed his hand tighter and leaned in, her voice as gentle as a lullaby. "Hi, sweetie. It's all over now. You're in the recovery room." Plankton's eye searched hers, still clouded with sleep. "Wha... wha' happen'd?" he managed to ask. "You had your wisdom teeth removed," Karen said softly. "You're ok now." Plankton's eye grew clearer as his mind slowly surfaced from the depths of unconsciousness. He blinked again, looking around the room. "Why... why awe youw smiling?" "You were talking in your sleep," she said, trying to keep the amusement out of her voice. "It was just sweet." Plankton's eye searched hers. "Wha'did I shay?" "You said a lot of things," she replied, her smile lingering. "But the most important part was that you said I was the best." The corner of Plankton's mouth twitched into a weak smile. "Yeah?" he murmured, his voice still slurred. "Well, thath's twue." With Margaret's help, Karen managed to get Plankton into a more upright position. His head lolled slightly before he found his bearings, blinking rapidly to clear his vision. "How do you feel?" Karen asked, her voice full of concern. "Woozy," Plankton mumbled. With Margaret's guidance, Karen helped Plankton to stand, his legs wobbly. He leaned heavily on her, the anesthesia still clouding his movements. She felt his weight and knew that he would need her support to navigate the short walk to the car. "Let's go slow," she said, her voice steady and calm. Plankton nodded, his eye still half-lidded with sleep. They shuffled along the hallway, each step a victory over his grogginess. As they approached the door leading to the parking lot, Plankton swayed. Karen tightened her grip, for his head lolled to the side, and she caught him. "Whoa, honey," she said. Plankton's legs buckled slightly, and his head dropped to her shoulder, his weight pressing against her. Karen steadied him, her arms wrapping around to keep him upright. His breathing was deep and even, eye fighting to stay open. "You can't sleep now," she said, trying to keep the laughter from her voice. "We're not even home yet." With Margaret's help, they made their way to the car, Karen's arm supporting Plankton's weight. "Let's get you buckled in," she said, guiding him to the passenger seat. Plankton complied, his movements still sluggish and uncoordinated. With a gentle push, Karen secured the seatbelt across his chest. His head lolled back against the headrest, and for a moment, she thought he might fall back asleep, but managed to keep his eye open as she starts the engine. As she pulled out of the parking lot, Plankton's eye drifted shut. "We're almost home." Karen says as Plankton's head lolled back against the headrest. She took a hand off the wheel to pat his leg reassuringly. "You can sleep when we get there." Yet Plankton's snores filled the car, punctuating the silence. Karen couldn't help but look over at him, his face relaxed and peaceful in sleep. "Wake up, sweetie," Karen whispered, gently shaking Plankton. He stirred, his eye blinking open with difficulty. "We're home," she said. Plankton groaned. "Careful," she warned. They shuffled inside, Karen guiding him. The smell of home hit them, a mix of saltwater and the faint scent of cooking from the restaurant next door. "Come on, honey," she said, half-guiding, half-carrying him to their bedroom. Karen helped him lie downs. He let out a deep sigh. "Thathks," he murmured, his voice barely audible. Karen settled Plankton into bed, his head resting on the soft pillows, his body limp and heavy with the weight of the anesthesia. She took his other hand and squeezed gently. As they lay there, she noticed a small pool of drool forming at the corner of his mouth. Karen couldn't help but laugh softly, the tension of the day dissipating. She reached for a tissue from the bedside table and gently wiped the drool away. Plankton snuffled, his eye shooting open for a moment before closing again. "Don't worry," she whispered, stroking his forehead. "You're safe. You can go back to sleep now." Plankton's head lolled to the side, and drool grew more insistent, a silent testament to his deep slumber. Karen grabbed another tissue, wiping the saliva that trickled down his chin, his snores rumbling. With each tissue, the intimacy grew, the act of caring for him in this vulnerable state somehow endearing. She felt a tenderness for him that was usually overshadowed by their daily squabbles and the relentless pursuit of the Krabby Patty's secret recipe. As Plankton's snores grew softer, his grip on her hand loosened. Karen gently pulled her hand free and covered him with the blanket. She took a moment to gaze at his peaceful face. It was a side of him she rarely saw, and she found it surprisingly comforting. She leaned over and kissed him softly on the forehead, whispering, "I love you, even when you're drooling." Karen knew Plankton would be out for hours, so she decided to use the time to prepare a light meal for when he woke. She moved quietly to the kitchen, not wanting to disturb him. She rummaged, looking for something soft that wouldn't irritate his sore mouth. In the fridge, she found a bowl of Plankton's favorite jellyfish jello, a treat she had made the night before knowing he wouldn't be able to eat much solid food. Then, she pulled out a loaf of bread and a jar of jelly, carefully making a few soft, fluffy sandwiches that she hoped would be easy for him to chew. Next, she grabbed a few of Plankton's favorite books from the living room. She placed them on the bedside table, along with a glass of water, within arm's reach. She took a deep breath, feeling a sense of peace settle over her as she listened to his rhythmic snores. Despite the stress of the day, she was grateful for the quiet moments like these.

ᴰᵉⁿᵗⁱˢᵗ ᴬᵖᵖᵒⁱⁿᵗᵐᵉⁿᵗ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ Part 1 ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ⁿᵒʷ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱˢ ᵈᵉⁿᵗⁱˢᵗ ᵃᵖᵖᵒⁱⁿᵗᵐᵉⁿᵗ‧ ᴴᵉ'ˢ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵘᵖ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʰᵉʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵗᵃʸˢ ᵘᵖ ˡᵃᵗᵉ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ˢʰᵉ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉʸ'ʳᵉ ᵗᵒ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ᵉᵃʳˡʸ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ʳᵘᵇˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧ "ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ‧" ᴴⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᵇʳᵒʷ ᵗʷⁱᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ⁿᵘᵈᵍᵉˢ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᵂᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ! ᴬʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ?" ᴴᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᵒᵖᵉⁿˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ‧ "ᴳᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᵍᵒ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵉⁿᵗⁱˢᵗ‧" ᴰᵉˢᵖⁱᵗᵉ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˡⁱᵛᵉ⸴ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵃⁿ ᵒʳᵍᵃⁿⁱᶜ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ‧ ʸᵉᵗ ˢʰᵉ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ʰᵉʳ ᵒʷⁿ ᵉᵐᵒᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿᵃˡⁱᵗʸ ᵗᵒ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵍᵉᵗˢ ᵈᵉⁿᵗᵃˡ ᶠˡᵒˢˢ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉʸ ˢᵉⁿᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ʷᵃʸ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁿᵒʷ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵉⁿᵗⁱˢᵗˢ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʰᵉʳ‧ "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧‧" "ʸᵉˢ?" 'ᵂʰᵉʳᵉ ⁱˢ ᵐʸ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷʰʸ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵒᵐⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ?' ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷᵒʳʳⁱᵉᵈ‧ "ᔆᵒ ʷᵉ ᵈᵒ ˢᶜᵃⁿˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ ʷᵉ ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ ʰⁱˢ ʷⁱˢᵈᵒᵐ ᵗᵉᵉᵗʰ ⁿᵉᶜᵉˢˢᵃʳʸ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵐᵒᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉᵐ‧" 'ᵂʰᵃᵗ‽' "ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ˡᵉᵃᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃʸ ᵗᵒ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ʰᵉ'ˢ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵈ⁻ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱᶠ ᴵ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵃⁿᵈ‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵘʳˢᵉ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷʰᵒ'ˢ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉᶜˡⁱⁿᵉʳ ⁱⁿ ʳᵒᵒᵐ‧ "ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ?" "ᴴᵉˡˡᵒ ᴵ'ᵐ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ʰʸᵍⁱᵉⁿⁱˢᵗ! ᴺᵒʷ ʷᵉ ˢᵉᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʰᵒᵗᵒ ᵒᶠ ᵗᵉᵉᵗʰ ʷᵉ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵒⁿᵉˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵐᵒˡᵃʳˢ ⁱⁿ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵒᶠ ʳᵉᵐᵒᵛᵃˡ‧ ᵂᵉ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵍᵒ ᵃʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵒᵖᵉʳᵃᵗᵉ ᵇᵘᵗ ʷᵉ ᵒᵘᵗᵗᵃ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʸᵒᵘ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ⁿᵘʳˢᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃ ᵖᵃᵐᵖʰˡᵉᵗ ᵒᶠ ⁱⁿˢᵗʳᵘᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ‧ ᴮᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʷᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʸᵒᵘ⸴ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ⁿᵒʳᵐᵃˡ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵃⁿˣⁱᵒᵘˢ‧" ᵀʰᵉ ʰʸᵍⁱᵉⁿⁱˢᵗ ˢᵃʸˢ‧ "ᵂᵉ ᵈᵒ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉʳʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵉ ˢᵖᵉᶜⁱᵃˡⁱˢᵉ ᵗᵒ‧ ᴺᵒʷ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵉᵉᵗʰ ʰᵃᵛᵉⁿ'ᵗ ᵉʳᵘᵖᵗᵉᵈ ᵖᵃˢᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵘᵐˢ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʳᵒᶜᵉᵈᵘʳᵉ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ⁱⁿᵛᵃˢⁱᵛᵉ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ʷᵉ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ˢᵉᵈᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵒᵖᵗⁱᵒⁿ‧" ᵀʰᵉ ⁿᵘʳˢᵉ ˡᵉᵗˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʰᵒˡᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ‧ "ᴵ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ⁱⁿ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶜᵃˢᵉ ⁱᵗ'ᵈ ᵇᵉ ᵇᵉˢᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵖᵘᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ᵈᵉᵉᵖ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ⸴ ᶜᵒⁿˢⁱᵈᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ᶜⁱʳᶜᵘᵐˢᵗᵃⁿᶜᵉˢ‧" "ᴴᵃᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿʸ ᑫᵘᵉˢᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ?" ᵀʰᵉ ⁿᵘʳˢᵉ ᵃˢᵏˢ‧ "ᶜᵃⁿ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵗᵃʸ‧‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢʰᵉ ʷᵒⁿ'ᵗ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵘⁱˡᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢʰᵉ'ˡˡ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵉˣⁱᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ʷʰᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᵒᵖᵉʳᵃᵗⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴺᵒʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ ʳᵉᵃᵈʸ?" "ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ᵍⁱᵛᵉⁿ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃˡˡ ⁱⁿᶠᵒʳᵐᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ‧" ᔆᵃʸˢ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵘʳˢᵉ‧ "ᵂᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ᵃᵈᵐⁱⁿⁱˢᵗʳᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵒᶠ ˢᵉᵈᵃᵗⁱᵛᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ˢᵉᵉᵐ ᶠᵘⁿⁿʸ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁱᵗ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵇᵉ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱᵗ‧ ᴼᵘʳ ʰᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵐᵃᶜʰⁱⁿᵉ'ˢ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵗᵘʳⁿ ᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵇᵉ ᵐᵒⁿⁱᵗᵒʳᵉᵈ‧" ᵀʰᵉ ʰʸᵍⁱᵉⁿⁱˢᵗ ˢᵃʸˢ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵃᶜʰⁱⁿᵉ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵈᵒⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ʲᵒᵇ‧" 'ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ⁿⁱᶜᵉ‧‧‧' ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵍᵉᵗˢ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒ ˡᵒⁿᵍᵉʳ ᵏᵉᵖᵗ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵏⁿᵒʷˢ ⁿᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵉˡˢᵉ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᶠˡᵘᵗᵗᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ᵐᵉᵈⁱᶜⁱⁿᵉ ᵏⁿᵒᶜᵏᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒᵘᵗ ᶜᵒˡᵈ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ⁿᵘʳˢᵉ ˡᵉᵗˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵍᵒ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ˢʰᵉ'ˢ ʷᵃⁱᵗᵉᵈ‧ ᴱᵛᵉⁿᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵘʳˢᵉ ᵍᵉᵗˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᶠⁱⁿⁱˢʰᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ‧ "ᴴᵒʷ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ'ˢ ʸᵉᵗ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉʳʸ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵖᵉʳᶠᵉᶜᵗˡʸ ᵍʳᵉᵃᵗ‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ⁿᵒᵗ ᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢ/ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ ʸᵉᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ʰʸᵍⁱᵉⁿⁱˢᵗ ʷⁱᵖᵉˢ ᵃʷᵃʸ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵈʳᵒᵒˡ‧ "ᴴᵉ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇˡᵉᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵇʳᵘⁱˢᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ˡᵉˢˢ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ᵃ ʷᵉᵉᵏ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵉˣᵖᵉᶜᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵉˣᵖᵉʳⁱᵉⁿᶜᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ˢʷᵉˡˡⁱⁿᵍ‧" "ᴿⁱᵍʰᵗ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴵ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵈʳᵒᵒˡ ᶜˡᵉᵃⁿᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵒᶠ ⁱᵗ ᶜᵒᵐᵉˢ! ᴮᵘᵗ ʸᵉˢ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉᵈⁱᶜⁱⁿᵉ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵒᵈʸ ˢʸˢᵗᵉᵐ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃᶜᵗ ᵘᵖ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵃ ᵈᵃʸ‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʳᵉᵃᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃᵐᵖʰˡᵉᵗ ᵉˣᵖˡᵃⁱⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᶜᵃʳᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵒʷ ᵗᵒ ᵘˢᵉ ᵍᵃᵘᶻᵉ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰᵉ ᵐᵘˢᵗ ᵇᵉ ⁿᵘᵐᵇᵉᵈ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃˡˢᵒ ˢˡᵒᵖᵖʸ‧ 'ᵂᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ‧‧‧' 'ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵉᵗ ᵐᵉ ˢᵉᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵉʸᵉ?' ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿˡʸ ʰᵉᵃʳˢ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ'ˢ ʷᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ‧ "ᵂʳʳᶻ ᵇʳʳʳᵈ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵇᵃᵇᵇˡᵉᵈ⸴ ᵒᵖᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ‧ "ᴹʳⁿⁿ‧‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ?" 'ᵂʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃᵐ ᴵ' ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ˢᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵍⁿⁱˢᵉᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧ "ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵘᵐᵇⁿᵉˢˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉᵈⁱᶜⁱⁿᵉ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵈⁱᶠᶠⁱᶜᵘˡᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵃʳᵗⁱᶜᵘˡᵃᵗᵉ ʷᵒʳᵈˢ‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʰᵉˡᵖ ʰⁱᵐ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍⁱᵍᵍˡᵉˢ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶠᵃˡˡˢ ᵒⁿ ʰᵉʳ‧ "ᴸᵉᵗ'ˢ ᵖᵘᵗ ᵍᵃᵘᶻᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒ‧‧" "ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ʲᵒᵇ!" ᴴᵉ ʰᵉᵃʳˢ⸴ ⁿᵒʷ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵍᵃᵘᶻᵉ‧ ᴴᵉ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵐᵘᶠᶠˡᵉᵈ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵃᵘᶻᵉ‧ "ᴸᵉᵗ'ˢ ᵍᵒ!" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵃᵏᵉˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧ ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ˡᵉᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ˢʰᵉ ˢᵃʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ˢᵃᵈ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ?" "ᴵ ᵐⁱˢˢ ᴷ⁻ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧‧‧" "ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᴵ⸴ ᴵ ᵃᵐ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧" "ᴹʸ ˡᵒᵛᵉˡʸ ᴷᵃʳⁱ ᴵ ˡᵒ⁻ᵒᵛᵉ ʰᵉʳ!" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᴵ'ᵐ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ!" ᵀᵒ ᶜᵒⁿᶠᵘˢᵉᵈ⸴ ʰᵉ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉˢ ˢʰᵉ'ˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧ "ᴷᵃʳᵉ⁻⁻⁻⁻ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‽" ᵀʰᵉʸ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᵃʳʳⁱᵛᵉ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧ "ᵂʰᵉʳᵉ'ˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ?" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵉˣᶜˡᵃⁱᵐˢ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ᵗᵘᶜᵏˢ ʰⁱᵐ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ "ᴳᵉᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ʳᵉˢᵗ ⁿᵒʷ‧" "ᵂʰᵉʳᵉ'ˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵉⁿᵗⁱˢᵗ?" "ᵂᵉ ˡᵉᶠᵗ‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷⁱᵖᵉˢ ᵈʳᵒᵒˡ‧ ᴴᵉ ᶠˡᵃᵖˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵃʳᵐˢ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ʳⁱᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᵈʳᵃᵍᵒⁿ‧‧" "ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵉᵃⁿ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ?" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵈᵒᵉˢ ˢᵒ⸴ ᵉʸᵉ ᶜˡᵒˢⁱⁿᵍ ˢʰᵘᵗ‧ "ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵃᵘᶻᵉ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃˢᵏˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉᵃᵛⁱˡʸ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ⁿᵒʷ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ʰᵉᵃʳˢ ʰⁱᵐ ˢⁿᵒʳᵉ⸴ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ˢʰᵉ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ʰᵉᵃʳˢ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵗᵃˡᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ ⁿᵒʷ ᵃˢ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ˢⁿᵒʳᵉˢ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ˢᵗᵃʸᵉᵈ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵘⁿᵐᵒᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵐᵉᵃⁿ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˡᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵇᵉ‧ 'ᔆᵒ ˢʷᵉᵉᵗ' ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵒⁿˡʸ ˢᵗⁱʳʳᵉᵈ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ ʷʰᵉⁿᶜᵉ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ⁿᵒᵒⁿ ᵃˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᶠˡⁱᶜᵏᵉʳˢ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ‧ ᴴᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ⸴ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵃᵘᶻᵉ ʰᵉ ⁿᵒʷ ᵗᵃᵏᵉˢ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵒ ˢʰᵉ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ‧ "ᶜᵃʳᵉᶠᵘˡ‧‧" "ᴷ⁻ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ?" 'ᴰⁱᵈ ᴵ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍᵒ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵉⁿᵗⁱˢᵗ?' ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵈⁱᶠᶠᵉʳᵉⁿᵗ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵘʳᵉ ᵒᶠ ʷʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ‧‧ "ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵍᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵉʷ ᵍᵃᵘᶻᵉ‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰᵉ'ˢ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ʰᵃᶻʸ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗʳᵃᶜᵉ ᵒᶠ ˢᵉᵈᵃᵗⁱᵛᵉ/ᵃⁿᵃᵉˢᵗʰᵉˢⁱᵃ ʷⁱˡˡ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ʷᵒʳⁿ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵇʸ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ʳᵉᵖˡᵃᶜᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵃᵘᶻᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈⁱˢᵖᵒˢᵉᵈ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉᵈ ˢᵗᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ ᵒⁿᵉˢ‧ "ᴵ ᵗʰᵉᵉ ʸᵒᵘʷ!" "ᶜʰᵃᵗᵗᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵐᵃʸ ʰᵘʳᵗ‧‧‧" "ᴵ'ᵐ ᵈᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵐʸ ᵗᵉᵉᵈ ᶜʳᵉᵃⁿˢ ⁿᵒʷ‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᵈⁱᵈ‧" "ᴹʸ ⁿᵉⁿᵈⁱˢ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵈᵒᵒᵈᵃʸ‧ ᴬᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵉⁿᵗⁱˢ‧" "ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵖᵘˢʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵃᵘᶻᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ⁱⁿ? ᵀʰᵉʸ'ʳᵉ ᶠᵃˡˡⁱⁿᵍ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʳᵉᵃᶜʰᵉᵈ‧ "ᴱᵃˢʸ!" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢⁱᵍʰˢ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ˢᵃᵗ ᵇʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ʳᵘᵇᵇᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵃʳᵐ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵃⁿᵈ‧ 'ᴶᵘˢᵗ ʷᵃⁱᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ' ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉʳˢᵉˡᶠ‧ to be cont. pt. two

A JOURNEY TO AUTISM ii (Autistic author) His eye took a moment to focus on her, and when it did, she saw a flicker of confusion, followed by a glimmer of recognition. "Karen?" he repeated, his voice still faint. "Yes, it's me, Plankton. You're ok." But his gaze remained distant, his focus unsteady. "Where...where are we?" "We're at the hospital, sweetheart," Karen said softly, stroking his antenna. "You had an accident." The confusion in Plankton's eye grew, and he tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness forced him back down. "What kind of accident?" His voice was still weak, but there was an urgency to his words that hadn't been there before. Karen took a deep breath, her grip on his hand tightening. "Mr. Krabs...he hit you with a fry pan." The words tasted bitter but she had to tell him the truth. Plankton's eye widened slightly, and she watched as the puzzle pieces of the situation slowly clicked into place in his mind. "Krabby Patty," he murmured, his voice distant. "Yes, Plankton, you were trying to get the recipe again," Karen whispered, aching at the memory. "But it's over now. You need to rest." His eye searched hers, and for a moment, she thought she saw a flicker of his old self, the cunning and ambitious man she had married. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by a vacant stare. "Don't... don't remember," he mumbled, his antennas drooping. This wasn't the Plankton she knew, the one who schemed with a glint in his eye and a plan in his pocket. "It's ok, Plankton," she soothed, her voice trembling. She took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. "Do you remember me?" Plankton's gaze remained steady for a moment, and then he nodded slowly. "Karen," he said, his voice a hoarse whisper. But the spark of recognition was tinged with confusion, as if he wasn't quite sure how he knew her. Karen's felt like breaking into a million tiny pieces. But she knew she had to stay strong. For Plankton. For them. "You don't remember what happened, do you?" she asked gently. "What else do you remember?" Plankton's antennas twitched slightly, his eye searching hers. "Don't know," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. Karen's chest tightened as she held back a sob. "It's ok," she reassured him, her voice shaky. "Do you remember your name?" she asked, her voice hopeful. He blinked slowly, his gaze fading in and out of focus, his brow furrowing as he concentrated. "Sheldon... Plankton?" The sound of his voice saying his own name brought a small smile to Karen's face. "Yes, that's right," she said, her voice filled with relief. "Do you remember where we live?" she continued, her tone gentle. Plankton's eye searched the ceiling of the hospital room, as if the answer was written there. "The Chum Bucket," he murmured, his voice unsure. Karen nodded, encouraged by his response. "Good, good," she said, smiling weakly. "What about our friends?" Again, the confusion clouded his gaze. "Friends?" he repeated, his voice tentative. "SpongeBob, Sandy...?" "Yes," Karen said, her voice soft. "Do you remember them?" Plankton's expression grew more distressed, his antennas drooping. "Square...SpongeBob. And a squirrel, yes?" He paused, trying to piece together the fragmented memories. Karen nodded, brimming with unshed tears. "Yes, SpongeBob SquarePants and Sandy Cheeks. They're friends." Plankton's antennas twitched as he processed the information, his brow furrowing with the effort. "Friends," he repeated, the word sounding foreign. Karen could see the gears turning in his tiny head, his brain desperately trying to make connections to his past. "Do you remember anything about your life before the accident?" Karen asked, her voice trembling with anticipation. Plankton's eye searched hers, uncertain. "Life...before?" Her heart sank. "You know, our adventures, our home, our love?" He stared at her, his expression unreadable. "Love?" The word was barely a whisper. "Yes, Plankton," she said, her voice cracking. "We love each other. We've been married for a long time, and we've had so many adventures together." She paused, willing the words to resonate with him, to ignite a spark of memory. "Do you remember any of that?" Plankton's gaze remained vacant for a moment before he nodded slightly. "Married," he murmured, as if tasting the word for the first time. "To Karen." His antennas lifted slightly, a glimmer of something familiar flickering in his eye. "Karen Plankton computer wife." "Yes, Plankton," Karen said, her voice thick with emotion. "Does that mean something to you?" she asked, her heart in her throat. He nodded slowly, his antennas waving slightly. "Computer wife," he murmured again, his voice gaining a hint of warmth. "Karen." Karen felt a flicker of hope. "Yes, Plankton, I'm your wife." She leaned closer, her voice gentle. "Do you remember anything about us?" Plankton's antennas twitched as he thought. "Wife," he said slowly, his voice a faint echo of the man she knew. "Wife...Karen. Married July 31, 1999." That was their wedding day, a date they had celebrated every year since. "Yes," she whispered, her voice choking. "We got married on July 31, 1999." The hospital room felt thick with silence as she waited for his next words. Plankton's eye searched the room, his antennas twitching as he tried to piece together the shards of his past. "Plankton, can you tell me about yourself?" Karen asked, her voice gentle. "What do you like to do?" Plankton's antennas twitched as he thought. "Invent," he said, his voice still weak but with a hint of pride. "Science?" The words came out as a question, as if he wasn't quite sure of his own identity. "Yes," Karen said, her voice brightening slightly. "You're a genius inventor. You've made so many wonderful things." She paused, hoping to see some spark of recognition in his eye. "Do you remember any of your inventions?" Plankton's antennas waved in the air, as if searching for the memories that remained elusive. "Inventions," he murmured, his single eye searching the ceiling. "Gadgets...machines." "That's right," Karen encouraged, squeezing his hand. "You've created so many amazing machines. Can you describe one of them?" He blinked, his antennas stilling for a moment. "Chum...Chum Dispenser 3000," he said, his voice picking up a bit. "It makes...makes food for fishies." Karen's smile grew despite the pain. The Chum Dispenser 3000 was one of his earlier inventions, a failed attempt to lure customers to their restaurant, but it was a testament to his ingenuity. "That's wonderful, Plankton," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "How about something more recent?" she prompted, eager to see how much of their shared history remained with him. Plankton's antennas twitched as his brain worked overtime. "Um... the Incredibubble," he said, his voice picking up speed as he talked. "It's a bubble that can shrink things down to microscopic size." Karen felt a jolt of excitement. "That's right!" she exclaimed, squeezing his hand. "You used it to get to find a secret plan." Plankton's gaze remained distant, but there was a hint of curiosity in his eye. "Computer... plan?" "Yes," Karen said, her voice shaking. "We've had so many adventures together, Plankton. We've faced so much together." He nodded, his antennas twitching slightly. "Together," he repeated, as if testing the word on his tongue. "Do you remember any of those adventures?" Karen asked, her voice trembling. "Adventures?" Plankton's eye flickered, and she could almost see the wheels turning in his mind. "With Karen... wife?" "Yes, with me. We've traveled the ocean, faced so many challenges together." The doctor came in. "You can go home now," he said. Karen nodded, never leaving Plankton's face. She had spoken to the doctor about his condition, about the autism, but she still wasn't sure how to process it all. How would their life change now? "Come on, Plankton," she said, helping him sit up gently. "Let's get you home." She buckles him into his side of the car, his newfound passivity making the usual struggle unnecessary. The engine of the tiny vehicle roars to life, and Karen guides them out of the hospital parking lot. The ride back to the Chum Bucket is quiet, the only sound being the hum of the car's engine and the occasional splash from the waves outside. Karen keeps glancing at Plankton, his antennas listless as he stares out the window. His mind seems to be somewhere else, lost in a world of his own making. When they arrive, she helps Plankton out of the car and supports him as they make their way to the door. The neon sign flickers in the gloom, casting erratic shadows across the sand. The once bustling environment now feels eerie and desolate. Karen's mind is racing with thoughts of how to make this place feel like home again for Plankton.

AUTISM IN THE PLANKTON FAMILY iii (Autistic author) Karen picked him up, and carried his limp form to his bed. She stood there for a moment, watching his chest rise and fall. The snores grew quieter as sleep consumed him. The weight of what had just happened settled on her shoulders. Karen lay him down gently. She tucked him in, his antennae resting against the pillow. The room was quiet except for his soft snores, a stark contrast to the chaos that had filled it moments before. Karen sat by his side, her hand on his arm. After a few moments, she stood up and walked to the door, closing it gently behind her. She found Hanna in the living room, her eyes red-rimmed and worried. "Hanna, I need to talk to you," Karen said, her voice firm but not accusing. Hanna looked up, her expression hopeful for guidance. Karen sat beside her, her eyes on her own hands, which were fidgeting in her lap. "Plankton's been through a lot," she began, her voice measured. "He's different now." Hanna nodded, her eyes wide with unspoken questions. "Still coming to terms with it but you're just fine. It's a rarity, yet he'll be fine." "I guess I'll head out. I never meant to cause Plankton distress." Karen nodded, her eyes still on her fidgeting hands. "Thank you for understanding. I'm pretty sure he knows you didn't mean to, but I can still tell him when he wakes up." Hanna left, and Karen went back to the bedroom. Plankton was still asleep, his breathing steady and peaceful. Karen sat by the bed. Plankton's snores were the only sound in the room, a gentle reminder of the peace that sleep brought him from his tumultuous world of heightened senses. Karen took a deep breath, her thoughts racing. This was their new normal, a dance of understanding and patience they would have to learn. When Plankton next woke up, his eye searched the room, his antennae twitching slightly. He looked over to find Karen sitting in a chair beside the bed, her gaze on him. "Hi," she said, her voice gentle. He sat up slowly, the fabric of the bed rustling beneath his weight. "How are you feeling?" Karen's concern was palpable, her eyes scanning his face for any signs of distress. Plankton took a deep breath, trying to organize his thoughts. Karen's presence was a balm to his soul, her understanding a lifeline in the storm of sensory input. "Where's Hanna?" Karen sighed, her gaze never leaving his face. "She left, sweetie. You were a bit...overwhelmed." Plankton nodded, his antennae twitching with the memory of the sensory assault. "It's okay," Karen assured him, her voice a soft whisper. "She just didn't understand, and felt bad for the way she treated you." Plankton nodded, his antennae still. The room was quiet, a stark contrast to the chaos from before. He took a moment to collect himself, his thoughts racing. "Sorry," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. Karen reached out and took his hand, her grip firm but gentle. "You have nothing to apologize for," she said, her tone soothing. "This is all new to us. Would you like to eat?" Plankton nodded. "I'll get you something quiet and simple," Karen said, standing up. She knew that too much stimulation could send him spiraling. In the kitchen, she prepared a snack of plain crackers. She placed the plate on the table carefully, not wanting to startle his heightened senses again. Plankton entered the room, his movements deliberate and slow. He sat down across from her, his eye darting around the room. "It's ok," Karen reassured him, handing him the plate of crackers. "Just food." "Just food. It's ok; just food." He repeats back to himself, focusing on the plate. Each cracker was a tiny square of safety, a familiar comfort in a sea of sensory uncertainty. He took a deep breath and selected one. The taste was comforting, a reminder of a simpler time. Karen watched him, her screen filled with love. Plankton took a sip of water, his eye never leaving hers. "It's ok just food," he said again, his voice still low. "Karen good and good food. It's ok." Karen nodded, her smile a mix of relief and sadness. She knew his echolalic tendencies was the autism, but she's glad he likes the food as well. They sat in silence, the only sound the crunch of crackers and the occasional sip of water. Plankton's eye focused on the cracker in his hand, the patterns on the surface a comfort. His autistic brain craved the predictability, the sameness that calmed his nerves. This was the man she knew, yet he was different. The Plankton who was always plotting and scheming was now one who found comfort in the mundane. His mind felt clearer now, the overwhelming chaos of the earlier encounter with Hanna beginning to fade. Karen watched him, her heart breaking for the silent struggle she knew he faced every moment. "I'll talk to Hanna," she said gently. "I'll explain. What do you want me to tell her? What'd you like for her to know?" Plankton's gaze remained on the cracker, his thumb tracing the edge. "Tell her sorry," he mumbled. "What else? I mean, is it ok if I tell her you're autistic now? Or what about the accident that lead to the autism?" Plankton's antennae twitched at the word 'accident', his mind reeling with memories of the stove, the fight with Mr. Krabs, the pain. But he nodded slowly. "Ok," he murmured. Karen's heart ached at the simplicity of his response. The complexity of his thoughts was now a tightly guarded secret, hidden behind a wall of sensory overload. "Okay, I will," Karen said, her voice soft. "But remember, it's ok to be different." Plankton nodded, his eye still on his food. But as he took another cracker, he paused. He looked up, his gaze locking with hers. "Karen," he said, his voice a little stronger now. "I, I l-love you." Karen's eyes widened at the sudden declaration. "Oh, Plankton," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I love you too." Plankton nodded, his gaze never leaving hers. "Karen making everything okay," he murmured. He took another cracker, his hands shaking slightly. "You make Plankton feel safe," he continues with sincerity. "In a world that's too much, Karen not too much." Karen's eyes filled with tears at his heartfelt words. She reached across the table and took his hand. "Plankton, I'm here for you. Always." Plankton's antennae stopped twitching. He looked into her screen, his own filled with a depth of emotion that hadn't seen before. "You good, Karen," he said, his voice steady. "Helping Plankton." Plankton was finding his way to express himself, to connect with her in a way that was meaningful. She squeezed his hand. "I'll always help you," she promised. "Karen," Plankton began, his voice tentative. He took a deep breath, trying to find the words. "I love you, Karen," he said finally, his eye intense with feeling. Karen swelled with love and pride. Despite his struggles, Plankton was learning to express his emotions in a way that made sense to him. It was a victory, small but significant. "Thank you, Plankton," she said, squeezing his hand. "Your love makes me happy." His antennae twitched slightly, a sign of his awkwardness with the emotional exchange. The room was quiet, the only noise the soft sound of their breathing and the occasional crunch of a cracker. Plankton's eye searched hers, looking for reassurance. "Plankton need...space," he managed, his voice shaky. "Too...much emotional interaction. Still love." Karen nodded, understanding dawning. "Okay, sweetie," she said, releasing his hand. "I'll be right here. Take all the time you need."

i love you😡🫶🏻

NEUROBEHAVIORAL PLANKTON viii (Autistic author) The room grew quiet as they all digested the information. Sponge Bob's gaze never left Plankton's, his expression filled with a fierce loyalty. He knew his friend was different, but that didn't change the love he had for the tiny creature. Sensing the tension, Sponge Bob took a deep breath and smiled his wide, welcoming smile. "You know what, Plankton?" he said, his voice a gentle rumble. "You're still my best buddy, no matter what." Plankton's antennae perked up, his eye focusing on Sponge Bob's earnest expression. The sponge's words were a comforting lullaby, a gentle reminder of their unbreakable bond. He felt the warmth of their friendship wash over him, a comforting blanket against the coldness of Hanna's accusations. Sponge Bob's hand found its way to his shoulder, the touch a familiar comfort that his overstimulated senses craved. Plankton leaned into the warmth, his body responding to the soothing pressure. "Best buddies," he echoed, his voice a soft affirmation. The room grew quiet as Sponge Bob's hand remained steady on his shoulder, his presence a calming force in the storm of his emotions. Plankton closed his eye, his body relaxing into the gentle embrace. "We're gonna get through this," Sponge Bob said, his voice a soothing lullaby. "We'll figure it out, buddy. I'm here for you." Plankton's antennae twitched slightly, the warmth of his friend's words seeping into his soul. Sponge Bob had always had a way of making him feel safe, but now, with this new knowledge, their friendship felt even more vital. "Thank you," Plankton murmured, his voice a soft echo of gratitude. Sponge Bob's thumb rubbed circles on his back. The two friends sat in silence, the warmth of their companionship a stark contrast to the chill of Hanna's words. Plankton felt the tension in his body slowly melt away, his breaths evening out. The steady beat of Sponge Bob's heart was a comforting lullaby that helped him find peace. Sponge Bob's thumb continued its circular dance on his back, a wordless communication of his love and support. Plankton sighed, his body growing heavier with each comforting pressure point. "Thank you," he murmured, his voice a gentle whisper. Sponge Bob's eyes searched his face, a flicker of understanding dawning. "It's okay, Plankton," he said. "We'll get through this together." His hand didn't move, his touch a silent promise of his unwavering support. Plankton's antennae twitched slightly, the comfort of his friend's presence a warmth against the coldness of his fear. He knew Sponge Bob would always be there for him, even if he didn't fully understand his condition. The sponge's love was a constant, a beacon of light in his otherwise confusing world. Sponge Bob's eyes never left his friend's, his smile a gentle reminder of the joy they shared. "You know, Plankton," he began, his voice a soft caress. "You're still the same little guy I've always known." Plankton's antennae twitched, his body leaning into the warmth of Sponge Bob's embrace. The steady beat of the sponge's heart was a comforting metronome that helped him find his rhythm again. He felt the tension in his body slowly melt away, each breath growing deeper and more even. The room, once a battlefield of accusations and misunderstandings, was now a haven of quiet comfort. The rustling of pages grew softer, the candle's glow dimming as the minutes ticked by. Karen and Hanna watched from afar, heavy with regret and hope. They saw the change in Plankton, the way he leaned into Sponge Bob's touch, the way his body slowly relaxed. Sponge Bob, ever the comforting presence, began to hum a gentle tune, a melody that Plankton had heard a thousand times. The familiar notes were a lullaby that soothed his frazzled nerves, his antennae dropping to rest against the sponge's shoulder. The tune was a bridge to his past, a time before the accident, before the world had shifted on its axis. Plankton's breaths grew deeper, his body swaying slightly with the rhythm. His eye closed. Sponge Bob's humming grew softer, his hand never leaving Plankton's back. The warmth of his companion's embrace was a soothing balm. The room, once a prison of accusations, was now a sanctuary of friendship. The candle's flame danced, casting shadows that played across the walls, their flickering a gentle reminder of the warmth in their hearts. Sponge Bob's hum grew softer, his melody a gentle whisper that lulled Plankton into a peaceful reverie. His body molded into the sponge's embrace, his antennae drooping with the weight of his eyelid. The world outside faded away, replaced by the safety of Sponge Bob's arms. Karen watched from the distance, shimmering with unshed tears. She knew the importance of this moment, the power of a friend who understood without words. Her heart swelled with gratitude for Sponge Bob's unwavering support. Hanna, too, felt the weight of her own words, the realization of her ignorance heavy on her shoulders. She longed to reach out, to be part of this healing embrace, but felt the boundary that she had unwittingly created. Her screen followed the tender scene, her thoughts racing with a desire to apologize, to explain. But she knew that now was not the time for words. Instead, she sat quietly, watching the dance of friendship unfold. The steady beat of Sponge Bob's heart, the gentle rustle of his body against Plankton's, the soothing hum that filled the air—it was a symphony of care. Hanna's gaze drifted to the candle, its flame a flickering reminder of the warmth that was slowly seeping into the room. She watched as Plankton's body grew heavier, his breaths deepening. The anger and fear that had once dominated the space were now replaced with a comforting quietude. Karen's hand found Hanna's, squeezing gently. "He's ok," she whispered. "We're going to be ok." Her voice was a calm sea, offering a gentle buoyancy to the storm of emotions that had ravaged them all. Hanna's screen searched hers, uncertainty warring with hope. "I'm sorry," she murmured, her voice a soft apology. "I just didn't know." Karen nodded, her gaze compassionate. "It's a journey," she said. "We're all just trying to understand." The humming grew softer, until it was only a faint echo in the room. Plankton's antennae twitched with the last remnants of his anxiety, before they too stilled. His body grew heavy, his breaths deep and even. The gentle sway of Sponge Bob's embrace was a lullaby that rocked him into a peaceful slumber. Sponge Bob felt the change in Plankton's tension, his friend's body becoming a soft weight against his. He smiled, his heart swelling with love and relief. Carefully, he adjusted his hold, cradling the tiny creature against his chest. His thumb continued its comforting strokes, his eyes never leaving the closed eye. Karen stepped forward, her movements graceful and silent. Her hand rested on Sponge Bob's arm, her screen a gentle thank you. Hanna quietly left. The room was now bathed in the soft glow of the candle, its flicker the only sound. Plankton's antennae twitched slightly in his sleep, his breaths deep and even. Sponge Bob held him tight, his heartbeat a gentle rhythm that soothed the tiny creature's slumber. Karen watched the two, aching with love and gratitude. She knew that Sponge Bob's simple act of comfort was a powerful statement of friendship and support. It was moments like this that reminded her of the strength in their bond. The candle's flame danced gently, casting shadows that played across Plankton's sleeping face. His antennae, once a whirlwind of anxiety, were now still, resting against Sponge Bob's chest. His breaths were even and deep, a testament to the peace he had found in his friend's embrace. Sponge Bob looked down at his sleeping companion, his face a picture of quiet contentment. He knew that Plankton was safe here, that his slumber was a reprieve from the storm of emotions that had ravaged his day. The room was a sanctuary of calm, the candle's warmth a gentle guardian. The sponge's heart swelled with love as he watched his friend's tiny chest rise and fall, each breath a whispered promise of support. He knew that Plankton's world was now different, that the ASD had brought with it challenges that neither of them could have foreseen. But in this moment, their bond was stronger than ever, a beacon of understanding in a sea of uncertainty. Karen's eyes searched Sponge Bob's, her own heart heavy with the weight of what Plankton had endured. "Thank you," she murmured, her voice a soft wave of appreciation. "For being there for him." Sponge Bob's gaze never left Plankton's sleeping form, his thumb still tracing comforting patterns. "Always," he said, his voice a gentle promise. "No matter what."

TEETHIES i Karen watched as the dentist's thumb depressed the plunger, sending the anesthesia into her husband's system. Plankton's eyelid fluttered, and his body grew slack as his eye rolls back in is socket. "It's ok," she whispered, taking his hand in hers. "It'll all be over soon." The doctor nodded, satisfied with the effectiveness of the anesthesia. Plankton's quiet snoring deep and even, his eye fully closed, and the tightness around his mouth relaxed. Her hand remained tight around his, her thumb tracing comforting circles on his palm, as if she could somehow transmit her strength to him through their touch. Plankton's hand grew heavy in hers, but she didn't let go. Instead, she squeezed it gently, willing him to feel her presence even in his state. The doctor followed her gaze, giving Karen a brief nod before turning his attention back to the open mouth of her husband. Plankton's grip on her hand tightened, even in sleep, and she gave a gentle squeeze back. Karen's gaze flitted between her husband's serene face and the crimson-stained cloths being replaced with alarming regularity. Plankton's chest rose and fell rhythmically, a testament to the anesthesia's hold on him. Karen focused on that rhythm; despite the chaos of the surgery, he was still with her. "We're almost done," he said. "We'll just clean up the site and close the incisions." Karen watched as the nurse handed the doctor sutures and gauze. The sight of her husband's mouth, swollen and filled with cotton, brought a fresh wave of anxiety. She squeezed his hand again, willing him to come back to her, to wake up and smile and tell her that it was all over. The doctor's movements grew more methodical as he worked, sewing up the small wounds steady. The nurse cleaned Plankton's face, wiping away the crimson smears with a gentle touch. "Everything went well," he said, his voice a balm to her frazzled nerves. "The anesthesia will wear off in about an hour. We'll keep him here for a bit to monitor his vitals, but you can stay." Karen nodded. The nurse began to wheel him out of the surgical suite, and she followed, her hand still clutching his. In the recovery room, she sat by his side, watching, the monitors beeping in a comforting rhythm. The nurse checked his vitals. She reached out tentatively, brushing a stray antenna. The nurse nodded. "He'll be waking up soon," she murmured. "You can talk to him, if you'd like." Karen leaned in closer to Plankton, her voice a soft whisper. "You did it," she said, voice cracking slightly. "It's all over now." She paused, her thumb still tracing circles on his palm. She talked to him as if he were awake. "I know," she continued. "But you're strong. You've always been a strong one. I'll be here, I promise. I'll always be there." A small, sad smile played on her screen, Plankton none the wiser in his sleep. "But we're going to get through this, I know we are." Plankton's eyebrow furrowing for a moment, Karen thought he might wake up. But his breathing remained deep and even, his body unresponsive to her words. She leaned in closer. "I know you're in there," she murmured. "I know you can feel me." Remember the time you tried to build a giant robot to get the recipe?" She searched his face for any sign of recognition, any flicker of understanding. But he remained still, lost in the depths of anesthesia-induced sleep. "You're going to be ok," she assured him, her voice a gentle caress. "We'll go back to our lives, to our little chum bucket of a home." The nurse checked the monitors and made notes before looking up at Karen. "You can sit with him as long as you like," she said kindly. "Just make sure not to disturb the dressings." "You're going to be ok," she whispered, her voice a gentle lullaby in the otherwise silent room. "You're going to wake up and everything will be better." A trickle of drool began to form at the corner of Plankton's mouth, snaking down his cheek. Karen reached for a tissue, carefully dabbing at the drool without disturbing the surgical dressings, a testament to the depth of his unconsciousness, a sign that his body was working to heal itself even as he slept. She found a strange comfort in the mundane task, a reminder that even in the face of surgery and pain, Plankton was still her Plankton, the one who drooled in his sleep when particularly tired. The drool grew more persistent, and Karen used the edge of the bed to lift his head slightly, placing a fresh pillow under it to keep him comfortable. The nurse nodded approvingly before checking the flow of fluids from the IV. "It's normal," she assured Karen. "His body is just reacting." Karen felt the weight of not knowing if everything would be okay once Plankton woke up. Would he be in pain? Would he remember her? Would he be the same? Her thoughts swirled in a maelstrom of doubt and hope, a tumultuous sea that threatened to pull her under. But she remained steadfast, her hand never leaving his. She talked to him, sharing stories of their adventures and their future plans, painting a picture of the life they would have once he was well. The nurse moved quietly around the room, giving them space, but Karen could feel her presence, a comforting presence that reminded her she wasn't alone. As the minutes ticked by, Plankton's breathing grew less artificial, more like the easy breaths of sleep. His face began to lose the slackness that the anesthesia had imparted. She searched for any hint of consciousness, and she thought she saw a flicker behind his closed eyelid. "Plankton?" she whispered, leaning in closer. "Can you hear me?" A low groan was his only response, and she felt his hand tighten around hers. The nurse stepped closer, checking the monitors once more. "He's coming around," she said. "Give him a few minutes, and he'll be back with us." "I'm here," she murmured, her voice a gentle hum in the quiet room. "You're ok." The nurse had left, and the only sounds were the rhythmic beeps of the monitors. She took the cloth from the bedside table and gently wiped the remaining drool from Plankton. His grip on her hand grew stronger, and she felt his fingers twitch. "Hey," she said softly, her voice a soothing melody in the sterile air. "You're ok, Plankton. The surgery is over." She didn't want to startle him, so she kept her voice low, her eyes focused on his. "You're in the recovery room now." His eyelid fluttered, and Karen felt a surge of hope. The nurse had warned her that he might be groggy, that the anesthesia could take a while to wear off completely. But she had to keep talking to him, to keep him grounded. "You were so brave," she whispered, her thumb tracing lazy circles on his palm. "The bravest little plankton I know." The hand in hers grew heavier as Plankton's grip tightened, and she knew he was slowly coming back to her. His eye remained closed, but the tension in his face began to change. She watched as his cheek muscles relaxed, the furrow in his brow smoothed out. The nurse had told her first moments after waking up could be disorienting, so she kept her voice calm and steady. "You're in the hospital," she said, her voice a lifeline. "You had your teeth taken out." The room was a blur of beeps and machines, but all she saw was Plankton, her entire world reduced to the man she had promised to take care of. As minutes ticked by, Plankton's breathing grew stronger, and she watched as his eyelid began to twitch. "That's it," she encouraged, her voice a soft coo. "You're doing great." His hand squeezed hers in response, and she felt a jolt of hope surge through her. With a final, deep inhale, Plankton's eye cracked open, swimming in a sea of confusion. His gaze found hers, and she offered him a gentle smile. "Hey," she said, her voice a warm embrace. "You made it." His eyelid fluttered, the weight of sleep and anesthesia still heavy upon him. "Karen?" he croaked, his voice a confused whisper. "Yes, I'm here," she said, her voice a gentle lullaby. She squeezed his hand, feeling the warmth of his grip as he surfaced from unconsciousness. "You did so well, Plankton." With painstaking care, she reached for the cup of water the nurse left by the bed. "Do you want some water?" she asked, holding it to his lips. His eye searched hers, took a sip, swallowed, the muscles in his throat moving with the effort. "Take it slow," she advised, her voice soothing. As the moments passed, Plankton's grip on her hand grew stronger. He took another sip of water and then shifted slightly in the bed, his body trying to adjust to the sudden return of sensation. Karen's heart felt as though it would burst with love and relief as she watched him come back to her. "I'm here," she repeated, her voice a constant in the shifting tides of his consciousness. The nurse returned, checking the monitors once more before looking at Plankton with a smile. "Welcome back," she said cheerfully. "How are you?" Plankton's voice was hoarse, but he managed to croak out a response. "Tiwed," he murmured, eye sliding shut again. "That's normal," she said. "He'll be sleepy for a bit, but we'll keep an eye on him." The nurse dimmed the lights and adjusted the bed, giving Plankton's body a chance to recover from the surgery. Gently, she began to hum a tune she knew Plankton loved, a lullaby from their early days together when they had nothing but their dreams and each other. The melody filled the room, wrapping around them like a warm blanket. His breathing grew a little easier, the tension in his hand loosening slightly. It was a small victory, but one she cherished deeply.

Broken 1/2 (I’m a neurodivergent author) "Karen's going to love the surprise," Sandy murmured to herself. Sandy had spent hours the previous night crafting the perfect surprise for her friend, Karen. It’s a game, and she thought about the delight. As Sandy approached, the anticipation grew. She felt her heartrate spike, her hand curling around the doorknob. The door swung open with a gentle creak, and there was Karen. "Sandy!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around her friend in a warm embrace. “Come on in!” They moved into the living room. "Ready for the surprise?" Sandy whispered, her eyes sparkling with excitement. Karen nodded, curiosity piqued. Sandy pulled out the game called "Whimsical Wonders," and it promised an adventure filled with puzzles, riddles, and laughter. She had picked it out especially for Karen, who loved nothing more than a good brain teaser. Plankton, Karen's husband, wanders in. "Sandy made a new game!" Karen says, her voice filled with excitement. "Oh really?" Plankton says. Sandy nods eagerly, setting the game board on the coffee table. "This looks amazing!" Karen says, lighting up. "Let's get started!" Sandy says, her voice brimming with excitement. The two friends eagerly begin setting up the game. As they place the pieces, their laughter fills the air, mingling with the occasional squeal of excitement. Plankton, however, watches from the armchair with a furrowed brow, the cacophony of sounds and the flurry of activity around the game table gradually weighing on him. His senses, heightened by the sudden influx of stimuli, start to overwhelm him. Sandy rolls the dice and her voice cracks with excitement as she announces her first move. "I'll take the unicorn path!" she exclaims, moving her piece with a flourish. The room seems to vibrate with her enthusiasm, the very air charged with it. But amidst the excitement, Plankton's eye starts to glaze over. Karen, caught up in the moment, doesn't notice the change in Plankton's demeanor yet. Sandy, lost in the thrill of setting the stage for their adventure, doesn't pick up on Plankton's distress. "Your turn, Karen!" Sandy suddenly squeals. Karen looks up from her piece and sees Plankton's eye now glazed over, his body completely still. "Plankton?" she asks tentatively, her smile faltering; the sensory overload from the game is becoming too much for Plankton, who grows overwhelmed and unresponsive from his armchair. "You ok?" Sandy says, turning to him, her voice still filled with the energy of the game. But Plankton doesn't respond. His eye remains unfocused, vacant, his body rigid. "What's wrong?" she asks, her smile fading as she notices Plankton's unresponsive state. Karen lowers her voice to a whisper, "It's like he zones out for a bit." Sandy's eyes widen with concern, and she immediately sets down the game piece. "Huh?" Karen nods reassuringly, "He'll be fine in a minute." She gently pats Plankton's hand, her voice calm and soothing. "It happens sometimes when things get too... much for him. This happens sometimes when he's overstimulated." Sandy's heart skips a beat. Plankton's face remained slack, eye staring into the middle distance, unblinking. "It's ok," Karen whispers, voice steady, "Just give him some space." Sandy nods, her excitement replaced with concern. She's never seen Plankton like this before. She watches as Karen gently strokes Plankton's arm. "It's ok," Karen repeats, her voice a gentle lullaby. "These happen when there's too much going on, too much to take in." Sandy nods, eyes never leaving Plankton's frozen form. She feels a twinge of guilt for not realizing sooner that something was amiss. She had been so caught up in excitement of the game, she didn't notice signs of distress. Moving closer to the chair where Plankton sat, she tentatively reaches out a hand to touch his shoulder like the way Karen is doing, but Karen stops her. "Let me," she says gently, never leaving her husband. "I know his triggers." Sandy nods. She withdraws, giving space. "I'm sorry," she says softly. "I didn't know." Karen nods, never leaving Plankton. "It's ok. We manage. It's part of his… condition." Sandy watches as Karen's gentle touch seems to bring him back to reality. Plankton blinks. "Plankton?" Karen whispers. Slowly, his gaze refocuses on her. He looks around the room, momentarily disoriented before his eye land on the game spread out on the table. He looks back at Karen, his expression a mix of confusion and embarrassment. "What happened?" he asks, his voice hoarse. "You had a little episode," Karen says, her voice still calm. She helps him to his feet. "But you're ok now." Sandy's eyes dart between the two of them, feeling like an intruder in this intimate moment of care. She clears her throat awkwardly. "Maybe we should... postpone the game?" But as Plankton's gaze locks onto hers, she sees the anger in his eye, raw and unbridled. "You did this," he says accusingly, voice tight with frustration. Sandy takes a step back. "I didn't mean to," she stammers, her hands rising defensively. "You didn't mean to?" Plankton echoes, his voice rising. "You come in, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed with your loud games and expectations, and you don't think about how it might affect me?" Sandy's eyes widen with shock and guilt as she takes another step back. "I-I'm sorry, Plankton," she stammers. "I didn't know it would—" "Of course you didn't," Plankton interrupts, filled with bitterness. Sandy's heart sinks as she realizes the gravity of the situation. "I didn't mean to overwhelm you," she says, her voice small and apologetic. Karen's grip on Plankton's arm tightens, a silent plea for calm, but the words have been said. The air feels thick with tension, the joyous anticipation of the game forgotten. Sandy's eyes fill with tears, her heart racing. "Plankton, please," she says, her voice shaking. "It’s not my fault. I'd never want to hurt you." "It's what you want, isn't it?" Plankton snaps, pushing away from her. "That's not true," Sandy protests, her own voice rising in defense. "I just wanted to have some fun." Karen's screen darts between them, a silent plea for peace. But Plankton's anger is a storm that can't be quieted so easily. "You think it's fun for me?" he yells, his voice cracking with frustration. "To sit here and watch you live life without a care while I'm stuck in my own head, unable to keep up?" Sandy flinches, his words hitting her like a slap in the face. She never thought about it that way before. "I just wanted to help," she says, her voice barely a whisper. "Help?" Plankton scoffs. "How is bringing this... this... chaos into our lives supposed to help?" He gestures at the game, his hand shaking with anger. Sandy feels the heat rising in her own cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and anger at being misunderstood. "It's not chaos, it's just a game," she says, her voice firm despite the tremor. "To you, maybe," Plankton says, his words laced with venom. "But to me, it's just another thing that's too much to handle. Too loud, colorful, too... everything." Sandy feels her own anger flare up, the hurt of his accusations stinging deep. "You don't know what you're talking about," she says, her voice rising to match his. "Oh, don't I?" Plankton counters, eye flashing. "You think you can just waltz in and ignore my needs because you're so focused on your own fun?" Sandy feels a mix of indignation and regret. "That's not fair," she protests, cracking. "You know I didn't mean to—" But Plankton isn't listening. He's in the throes of anger now, voice rising. "Fair?! You have no idea what fair is," he says, eye flashing. "You don't have to deal with the constant bombardment of sounds and lights and emotions!" Sandy's own frustration boils over. "Well maybe if you try to understand, we could—" "Understand?" Plankton cuts her off, his voice now a roar. "How can you possibly understand?" Sandy's eyes flash with indignation. "You're not the only one with problems!" she shoots back. "You think I don't know?" Plankton retorts. "Everyone has their struggles, but you don't get to barge in here and make them about you!" "It wasn't about me!" Sandy exclaims, her voice shaking. "I just wanted to do something nice.." "What about the fact that your 'nice' thing almost sent me into a full-blown seizure?" Sandy's eyes flash with anger now, her hands balled into fists at her sides. "You know what, Plankton? You're right, I don't understand," she says, her voice trembling with emotion. "But maybe if you weren't so focused on being the center of attention with your 'poor me' routine, you could see I'm just trying to be a good friend!" Plankton's eye widen in shock at her outburst as he processes her words. "You think this is about attention?" he says, his voice incredulous. "It's about trying to find a way to exist in a world that's too much for me!" Sandy's eyes fill with tears of frustration as she glares at Plankton. "And what? I'm not allowed to live because it's too much for you?" she yells back, the words cutting through the tension like a hot knife through butter. "I can't help that I'm not BROKEN like You!" Sandy says before realizing it with regret. Karen's pixelated eyes widen in horror. "Sandy," she says, her voice a warning whisper. But too late. The damage is done. A tear traces a path down his cheek. His eye, once full of anger, brims with hurt. He takes a step back. "Broken," he whispers, the word echoing in the tense silence of the room. Plankton's body sags, his anger dissipating like a popped balloon, leaving only pain in its wake. His eye glisten with unshed tears.

Broken 2/2 (I’m a neurodivergent author) Plankton's body sags, anger dissipating. His eye glisten with tears. "Broken," he repeats, his voice barely a whisper, the word a knife to his soul. He shakes his head and turns, unable to face the person who so casually tossed it at him. "Plankton," Karen says, her voice strained, but he's already retreating. Shoulders hunched, Plankton turns and strides out of the room, footsteps heavy and deliberate. The door to the bedroom slams shut behind him, the echo of sobs resonating through. Sandy and Karen are left standing in the living room, the air thick with unspoken words and unshed tears. "I didn't mean it like, I cannot believe I just, I’m sorry," Sandy says, voice shaky. She looks at her friend, her eyes pleading for understanding. "I..." Karen's gaze is steely. "You need to understand," she says firmly, voice trembling with weight. "Plankton was born with a neurodivergent condition." Sandy's eyes widen. "What?" she whispers. Karen nods solemnly. "Plankton's mother was in a car accident when pregnant with him." Sandy's eyes widen in horror. "I had no idea," she whispers. Karen nods, her own eyes brimming with unshed tears. "After, doctors saw Plankton's brain developing differently," she explains, her voice tight with emotion. "He's incredibly sensitive to stimulation—sounds, lights; strong emotions, like just now, can overwhelm him." "That's why he gets these... episodes?" Sandy asks. Karen nods, voice barely above a whisper. "It caused damage to the part of his brain that processes stimuli during development," she explains. "It's like his brain's volume knob is stuck on high. Everything's just too much for him sometimes." Sandy's mind races. "So that's why..." "Yes," Karen says, voice heavy. "It's not something he can just turn off, or ignore." Sandy nods slowly, aching for her friend's husband. She had always known Plankton as a bit of an introvert, but never thought it was mostly because of something like this. Karen's sad, but firm. "It's not your fault for not knowing," she says. "But you have to be mindful." Sandy nods, throat tight. "I do," she whispers with regret. Together, they make their way to the bedroom, the game forgotten in the wake of Plankton's pain. Karen's hand is a gentle guide on Sandy's arm as they tiptoe, steeling herself for what might be on the other side. She opens it slowly, the hinges whispering in protest. The bedroom is dim, curtains drawn, and Plankton is there, lying on the bed, his eye closed. The anger and frustration that had etched lines into his face moments ago are now eased by sleep. His chest rises and falls with rhythm of breathing, the only sound in the room. Sandy feels a pang of guilt as she looks at him. She had never meant to cause pain, never intended to make life more difficult. She just wanted to bring a little joy, whimsy into their lives; instead, she had unleashed a storm. Karen's hand tightens around Sandy's arm, a silent reminder of the unspoken bond between them. "Let him rest," Karen murmurs. Sandy nods. "Give him space," Karen says gently. "He needs to recover." Sandy nods, gaze lingering on Plankton's face, features now in sleep. She feels a pang of guilt, knowing she was the cause of distress. They retreat to the living room. Karen sighs heavily, her eyes reflecting a mix of sadness and resignation. "Why didn't you tell?" Karen sighs. "It's not something we talk about," she says softly. "Plankton's been self-conscious about it." "I didn't mean to make things worse," Sandy says with remorse. "I know, yet you have to understand, Plankton's condition is part of him. It's not something that can be fixed with a band-aid; his brain damage is irreversible." "I'll talk to him when he wakes up," she says, her voice a mix of determination and sorrow. "I want to make it right." Karen squeezes her hand, offering a small smile. "Thank you," she whispers. "But let him come to you. He needs time." Sandy feels the weight of her mistake heavily. "Part of Plankton's condition includes mood swings," Karen explains softly. "When overstimulated, it's like a dam breaks. It just floods." Sandy's heart squeezes with understanding and regret. "I didn't know," she whispers, eyes filling with tears. "I never meant to—" "It's ok," Karen interrupts gently, her voice soothing. "But it's not just about the game. Plankton's condition makes it hard for him to handle sudden changes or unexpected situations." Sandy nods, the gravity of the situation settling in. "I didn't realize," she says, her voice thick with guilt. "I just..." Karen squeezes her hand. "It's alright," she says, her voice calm and soothing. "You couldn't have known. But now that you do, it's important to stay calm around him." Sandy nods, eyes wide with the realization. "How do I make sure not make things worse?" Karen looks at her with a mix of affection and weariness. "You just need to be patient and understanding," she says. "Let him know you're there for him, without pushing." Sandy nods. Finally, Plankton emerges from the bedroom, eye red-rimmed. He looks at them both, his gaze uncertain, and then to the game. Sandy's heart clenches as she watches him. Plankton's gaze lingers on the game for a moment before he looks at them, his expression unreadable. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ruin everything." Sandy's heart breaks at his words. "You didn't ruin," she says quickly, filled with compassion. "I should have been more considerate." Plankton looks at her, still guarded. "I just want to be normal but I just can't handle it, like you said I’m broken.." Sandy feels her heart ache at his words, the pain in his voice resonating deep within. She shakes her head, her own eyes now filled with tears. "You're not broken," she says fiercely. "You're just... different. And that's ok. I’m sorry." Karen moves to Plankton's side, wrapping her arms around him in a gentle embrace. "You are more than ok," she whispers. "You're perfect, just the way you are." Sandy watches them, feeling the depth. "I didn't mean it, Plankton," she says, her voice thick with emotion. "You're not broken, you're just... you. I know that now." Plankton nods, his mind a tumult of thoughts. "But it's hard to hear." "I'll be more careful," she promises, her voice sincere. "I don't want to make you feel like that again." "You didn't know," he says, his voice a bit softer now. "But it's important that you do now." "I do know," she says, her voice firm. "And I'll make sure to be more mindful." Karen squeezes Plankton's hand, filled with love and compassion. "We all have moments," she says gently. "What matters is we learn from them." Sandy nods, gaze never leaving Plankton's. "I will," she says solemnly. "I promise." Plankton's expression softens. "Thank you," he murmurs, the first signs of forgiveness seeping into his voice. Karen's gaze shifts to Sandy, filled with a gentle resolve. "Don't be afraid to ask, next time," she says, a quiet command. "Don't assume you know what he can handle. Just talk to us, and we can tell you." Sandy nods, feeling the weight of her friend's words. "I will," she says, voice a solemn promise. "I don't want to make him feel like that again." The three of them stand in the living room, the game pieces on the table a stark reminder of the chaos that had unfolded. Sandy takes a step closer to Plankton, her hand reaching out tentatively. He looks up at her, the anger and pain in his eye slowly being replaced with something resembling understanding. "I'm sorry," she whispers again, hand hovering in the air between them. "I'll do better." Karen nods with a mix of sadness and love. "We're all learning," she says, her voice a gentle reprimand. "But it's important that Plankton needs to be part of this conversation too." Sandy swallows hard, her hand dropping to her side. "I'm sorry," she says again, looking down at her feet. "I didn't mean to make it about me." Plankton nods slowly, eye still on the game board. "It's not," he says, quiet and measured. "It's about understanding limits." Sandy nods, eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I just want to make sure you know that I'm here for you, for both of you, any time." Karen gives her a sad smile, still on Plankton. "We know," she says softly. "But sometimes, the best thing you can do for Plankton is to just... let him be." Sandy nods. "I'll take it home," she says, her voice thick with regret. "I don't want it to be a reminder of what happened." Karen nods, her gaze never leaving Sandy's. "Thank you," she whispers. Sandy moves to the coffee table, her eyes on the game. She gathers the pieces, the bright colors seemingly dulled by the events of the evening. Each piece feels heavier than it should, as if carrying the weight of Plankton's pain. "I'll put it away," she says, her voice quiet and remorseful. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen." Plankton nods, his eye not leaving the game. "I know," he says, his voice still raw. "But you can play it with Karen on one of the Gal Pal nights out when I’m not around, like at your treedome." Sandy nods, her eyes brimming with tears as she scoops the last of the game into the box. She closes it with a soft click and looks up at Karen. "I'm sorry," she whispers again. "I'm just... I'm sorry." Karen sighs, her gaze filled with a mix of sadness and resignation. "We all make mistakes, Sandy," she says gently. "What's important is that we learn from them." Sandy nods, her eyes never leaving the game box. "I will," she whispers, her voice thick with regret. "I'll be more considerate next time." Karen's gaze softens, and she squeezes Sandy's hand. "Thank you," she murmurs. "It means a lot."

A JOURNEY TO AUTISM ix (Autistic author) The silence in the room was suffocating, the echo of Mr. Krabs' footsteps the only sound as he retreated to his home, his heart feeling heavier than his treasure chest. Sponge Bob's heart torn between pity and frustration. He looked at Plankton, his friend's gaze still locked on the chessboard, his body a portrait of rejection. "Plankton," he whispered, his voice full of pain. But Plankton didn't move, his antennas twitching slightly. Sponge Bob felt a lump form in his throat, his eyes brimming with tears. He didn't know what to do, what to say, to make things right. He glanced at Karen, her lights dimming slightly with sadness. "I'll leave you two to talk." With a nod to Sponge Bob, she left the room, leaving them alone in the stifling silence. Sponge Bob approached Plankton cautiously, his heart pounding. "What can I do?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper. Plankton's antennas twitched slightly, but he didn't look up. "Nothing," he murmured, his voice flat. "Cannot change." Sponge Bob's eyes welled with tears. "I mean right now, I can do what you want me to," he pleaded. "You're my best friend, Plankton." Plankton's antennas lifted, his single eye meeting Sponge Bob's gaze. "We can talk, we can play a game, we can watch some thing..." Plankton's antennas remained still, his expression unreadable. "Watch," he said finally, his voice devoid of enthusiasm. Sponge Bob nodded, his heart heavy with disappointment. He knew his friend needed space, and he would give it to him. The screen flickered to life. Sponge Bob felt a pang of despair, his hand hovering over the remote. "Is this okay?" he asked, his voice trembling. Plankton nodded, his gaze unfocused. "Okay," he murmured. Sponge Bob selected a nature documentary, knowing Plankton. They sat in silence as the soothing sounds of the ocean filled the room, the TV's blue light washing over them. Plankton's body relaxed slightly, his antennas still as he watched. Sponge Bob felt a tiny spark of hope when Plankton scoots up next to him. The documentary played on, the narrator's soothing voice detailing the lives of jellyfish. Sponge Bob watched Plankton from the corner of his eye, his heart aching at the sight of his friend's vacant gaze. He reached over and gently placed his hand on Plankton's shoulder, his touch tentative. Plankton didn't flinch, his eye never leaving the screen. Sponge Bob swallowed the lump in his throat and whispered, "I'm here for you." Plankton's antenna twitched slightly, a barely perceptible acknowledgment. The silence stretched on, the only sound the rhythmic pulse of the jellyfish through the speakers. Sponge Bob's hand remained on Plankton's shoulder, his thumb making small, comforting circles. As the documentary droned on, Plankton's antennas gradually lost their rigidity, drooping slightly with each passing moment. The rhythmic pulse of the jellyfish on the screen seemed to lull him into a state of quiet contemplation. His gaze grew unfocused, his eyelid fluttered once, then twice, before finally settling shut. Plankton's tiny frame relaxed into SpongeBob's side, breathing evening out. His hand remained on Plankton's shoulder, his thumb continuing to make small circles as his friend slipped into slumber. When SpongeBob turned off the tv, he noticed Plankton's head drooped to the side with a soft snore, his body gone slack. Plankton was asleep, his chest rising and falling in a gentle rhythm. The yellow sponge felt a wave of relief wash over him as he realized that his friend had finally found some peace. He carefully scooted Plankton closer. He knew Plankton needed his rest, especially with his brain trying to adjust to this new reality. Karen came back in to see Plankton's antennas limp and Sponge Bob's hand on his shoulder. She nodded gently at the sponge, who looked up and sighed. "It's ok to let him rest. He's been through a lot." She says. Sponge Bob nods, his grip on Plankton's shoulder tightening slightly. "I know. I just want to help," he replies, his voice barely audible over Plankton's soft snores. Karen's lights flicker gently. "You are helping by being here, Sponge Bob. Just give him time and space to adjust." Sponge Bob nods, his eyes never leaving Plankton's sleeping face. "I'll do anything for him." Karen's light blips. "I know you will. But for now, let's get him to his bed." Sponge Bob nods, carefully scooping up Plankton, cradling him like a fragile shell. He carries him to the bedroom. He lays him down, tucking the blanket under his chin with extra care. Plankton's snores soften into a gentle purr, his antennas twitching slightly in his sleep. Sponge Bob pulls up a chair beside the bed, his eyes never leaving his friend's face. He feels a heavy responsibility, a desire to be there for Plankton in ways he's never had to before. As the minutes tick by, Sponge Bob begins to feel the weight of the day's events. His eyes grow heavy, his body swaying with exhaustion. Despite his resolve, he can't keep his lids open any longer. With a yawn, he collapses into the chair beside Plankton's bed, his head lolling to the side. His eyes close. Plankton opens his eye to find Sponge Bob asleep next to him. Plankton's gaze lingers on the sponge, his expression unreadable. He moves his antennas slightly, testing the boundaries of his new reality. The weight of Mr. Krabs' apology and his own words hang heavy on him. With a deep sigh, he knew that his relationship with Mr. Krabs was irrevocably changed, but he hadn't expected the sadness that accompanied the realization. He watched as Sponge Bob's chest lifted and fell in a steady rhythm, his grip on the blanket tight. A strange warmth spread through Plankton's heart, something he hadn't felt in a long time. Sponge Bob had always been his friend, even when he was at his worst. But this... This was different. This was someone sticking by him, not because they had to, but because they wanted to. The warmth grew, spreading through Plankton like a gentle current. It was unfamiliar, but not unpleasant. He had felt it before, with Karen. Yet this was a different kind of warmth. This was friendship, pure and untainted by the greed that usually consumed him before... He studied Sponge Bob's peaceful face, his mind racing. This sponge, his enemy's best worker, had shown more kindness and understanding in the past few hours than anyone else in his life, other than Karen. And for what? A chance at the Krabby formula? No, for him. For Plankton. The warmth grew stronger, pushing out the coldness that usually dominated his thoughts. He felt a strange urge to reciprocate, to be... nicer. Sponge Bob stirred, his eyes fluttering open. "Plankton?" he mumbles, his voice thick with sleep. Plankton's antennas lift slightly, his single eye focusing on the yellow form beside him. "Yes, Sponge Bob," he replies, his voice gentler than before. Sponge Bob sits up with a start. "How long have you been up?" he asks, his eyes searching Plankton's face for any sign of pain or distress. Plankton's antennas twitch slightly. "Not long," he murmurs, his gaze lingering on Sponge Bob. Sponge Bob's expression is a mixture of relief and concern. "Do you want to talk?" he asks, his voice gentle. Plankton's antennas wave slightly, a tiny nod of his head. "Talk," he echoes, his voice soft. Sponge Bob takes a deep breath, trying to form the words he desperately wants to say. "I just... I want you to know that I'm here for you, Plankton," he says, his voice shaking. Plankton's antennas wave slightly, and his eye narrows. "Here for Plankton," he echoes, his voice flat. Sponge Bob's eyes fill with tears. "Yes, Plankton," he whispers. "Always." Plankton's antennas twitch again, the word "always" echoing in his mind. "Always," he murmurs.

NO LESS TO BE DIFFERENT (Autistic author) "Plankton, look out!" The warning echoed through the lab, too late to prevent the calamity. Sheldon Plankton, the infamous villain and tiny proprietor of the Chum Bucket, had been so absorbed in his latest contraption that he never saw it coming. A miscalculation, a misstep and a metal clank as the heavy contraption toppled over. The world around him spun into a kaleidoscope of color, and with a sickening crack, everything went dark. Panic gripped Karen, his loyal sidekick and wife. She rushed to his side, his body sprawled unnaturally beneath the twisted metal. She reached out to gently shake him. "Plankton!" she shouted, her voice piercing the quiet. His eye remained closed, unresponsive to her touch or her cries. Karen's panic grew, her mind racing through possible scenarios. What if he's seriously hurt? What if this is the end? She buckled him in the car to take him to the Bikini Bottom Hospital. She held his hand and drove. "Plankton, please wake up," she murmured, her voice shaking. "You've got to be okay," Karen continued, her voice strained. "We still have so much to do. So much to steal from the Krabby Patty secret formula. So much to prove to Mr. Krabs." But Plankton lay there, motionless. The silence was deafening, broken only by the hum of the car engine and the occasional splash from the wet streets of Bikini Bottom. Karen's thoughts spiraled, her usual confidence in his invincibility shattered. "Remember when we first met?" she began, her voice soft. "You had the biggest dreams. You said we'd rule the ocean one day." She managed a weak laugh, but it sounded forced, even to her. Her grip on his hand tightened. "You swore we'd crack that Krabby Patty formula," she continued. "We've come so close so many times, and each failure just made you more determined." Her voice grew stronger, the memories fueling her words. "Do you remember the first time we tried to sneak into the Krusty Krab?" she asked, a hint of nostalgia in her tone. "You had that ridiculous disguise?" Despite the dire situation, she couldn't help but smile at the memory. "We've been through so much since then, Plankton. You've always found a way to bounce back, no matter how crazy the plan or how dire the outcome." But Plankton remained still. "We can't give up now," she whispered, her voice trembling. The hospital's cold lights flickered above them as they waited for the doctor. The beeping of machines and the hushed whispers of nurses filled the room, but Karen's thoughts drowned it all out. The doctor, a stern-looking fish with spectacles, entered the room, holding a clipboard. "Mrs. Plankton," he began, his tone professional but gentle. "We've completed the brain scan on your husband. The results are..." "Is he okay?" she finally choked out. The doctor looked up, his expression unreadable. "Mr. Plankton's injuries are... complex. He's sustained a brain injury, and he's developed Autism Spectrum Disorder." Karen's grip on Plankton's hand tightened. "What does that mean?" she asked, her voice a mix of fear and hope. The doctor took a deep breath, choosing his words carefully. "It means his brain has been affected in a way that will change how he perceives and interacts with the world around him. It's a spectrum, so the symptoms can vary widely." He explained further, detailing the challenges that lay ahead for both of them. Plankton might have difficulties with social interactions, repetitive behaviors, and sensory sensitivities. Karen's mind raced, never leaving Plankton's still form. Then, just as the doctor finished, Plankton's single eyelid began to flutter, slowly opening to reveal a gaze that seemed somehow... different. He looked around the sterile room, his eye darting from one corner to another, taking in every detail with an intensity that was unnerving. Karen's squeezing his hand harder. "Plankton?" she whispered. For a moment, there was no response. Then, in a voice that was his yet not quite, he spoke. "Karen," Plankton said, his voice mechanical and measured. His voice, though familiar, now a puzzling echo of its former self. She leaned in closer, desperate for some sign of the Plankton she knew. "How do you feel?" she asked, her voice tentative. Plankton's eye narrowed as he considered her question, his voice echoing the words back to her in a staccato rhythm, "How... do... you... feel?" The repetition sent a shiver down Karen, but she managed a nod. "Karen," he began again, his tone eerily calm, "How do you feel?" Karen's screen searched his eye, seeking a spark of recognition. "I-I'm worried," she admitted, her voice trembling. "But I'm here for you." "Worried," Plankton echoed, his voice a metronome of emotionless syllables. "Worried. Worried." The doctor cleared his throat, interrupting the eerie pattern. "Palilalia is a common symptom with ASD," he explained gently. "It's the repetition of words and phrases. It can be a way of processing information." Karen nodded, trying to absorb the doctor's words as she continued to search Plankton for any sign of the cunning, albeit misguided, genius she knew so well. His gaze remained fixed on hers. "Karen," he said again, his voice still eerily detached. His usual energy and cunning seemed to have been replaced by this unsettling calmness. Yet, in his eye, she thought she could see a flicker of something familiar, a tiny spark of the man she had known for so long. "I need to understand," she said softly, willing him to connect with her. "What's going on?" "Understand," he repeated, his voice a monotone echo. "Under- stand." Then, as if a switch had been flipped, Plankton's eye grew wider, his focus intense. Karen watched, hopeful, as his hand began to twitch. He was trying to communicate. Using all her patience, she waited. "Understand," he said again, but this time, the word grew into a phrase, "I need to understand." The repetition was still present, but now it was tinged with urgency. Karen filled with tears as she nodded vigorously. "I know, Plankton, I know you do." The doctor, noticing the change, intervened, his voice soothing. "It's ok, Mr. Plankton. Take your time." He turned to Karen. "It's common for individuals with ASD to repeat words or phrases when they're trying to process their thoughts. It's called echolalia. It's his way of making sense of what's happening." Karen nodded, but she could see the wheels turning in his mind. His hand twitched more intensely now, his gaze more focused. "Understand," he said again, his voice gaining a slight inflection. "Need... to... under- stand." The words grew into a steady rhythm, a heartbeat of desire. Karen felt hope blossoming in her chest. The doctor leaned in, his expression one of curiosity. "It seems he's trying to express his need to understand his new condition," he murmured. "It's a positive sign. It shows he's engaging with the world around him." Karen nodded. "Under- stand," she whispered back to him. "We'll figure this out together." Plankton's twitching hand paused momentarily, his gaze lingering on hers. Then, his eye darted back to the doctor, the word "Understand" escaping his lips once more. The doctor nodded encouragingly. "It's ok, Mr. Plankton. Do you know what happened?" "Understand," he said, his tone shifting to one of curiosity. "Understand. Accident." Karen swelled with relief. It was the first time he'd formed a coherent thought since the incident. "Yes, Plankton," she said, her voice soothing, "you had an accident in the lab. But we're going to get through this." The doctor nodded. "You have something called Autism." "Autism," Plankton echoed, his eye searching Karen's for an explanation. "It's okay," she said, her voice steady despite the storm of emotions inside her. "It just means you see the world differently now." Plankton's eye focused on hers, his hand stilled. "Different," he parroted back, as if testing the word's weight in the air. "Different." Karen took a deep breath, forcing a smile through her tears. "But not less," she assured him. "Just different." She leaned forward and kissed his forehead, his antennas twitching slightly at the touch.

NO LESS TO BE DIFFERENT ii (Autistic author) With Plankton's condition still fresh in her mind, Karen carefully guided him out of the hospital and into the car. She knew the drive back to the Chum Bucket would be a test, but she was determined to make it as smooth as possible. The car's engine rumbled to life, and she pulled out onto the wet streets of Bikini Bottom, fixed on the road ahead. Plankton was quieter than usual, his gaze out the window, taking in the world with a new perspective. Karen spoke gently, describing the sights they passed, hoping the familiarity would comfort him. "Look, Plankton," she pointed. "There's the jellyfish field. Do you remember when we used to get chased by jellyfish?" His eye swiveled to meet hers, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips. "Remember," he said, his voice still mechanical. "Plankton remember jellyfish." It wasn't just the repetition anymore; he was connecting with her, with the world around him. It was a start, a sign that maybe, just maybe, they could find their way through this new, uncharted territory. Plankton's head lolled slightly to the side as the car bumped along the road, his breathing steady and even. Karen watched him out of the corner of her screen, the rhythmic motion of his chest reassuring her that he was still with her. Despite the turmoil of emotions churning inside her, she felt a strange peace settle over her. For the first time since the accident, she allowed herself to believe that they could navigate this new reality together. The rain had picked up, the drops splattering against the windshield like a symphony of tiny drums. The wipers kept a steady beat, matching the rhythm of her racing thoughts. Plankton's hand was still in hers, but it was limp now, his palm open and trusting. She squeezed it gently, trying to convey all the words she couldn't say. The Chum Bucket loomed in the distance, a beacon of their shared past and the uncertain future ahead. As they neared, Karen noticed the lights flickering in the lab, the remnants of their latest failed scheme. The sight brought a pang of sadness, but also a strange sense of nostalgia. Karen's grip on the steering wheel tightened. "We're almost there," she said, her voice a lifeline thrown into the silence. As the Chum Bucket came into view, Plankton's antennas twitched in his sleep. "We're home," Karen murmured, her voice barely above the patter of the rain. She parked the car and took a moment to collect herself before gently waking him. "Plankton, sweetie, we're here." His eye fluttered open, and he looked around the car with a slightly dazed expression. The neon lights of the Chum Bucket cast a warm glow, and Karen watched as the reality of their situation settled into his gaze. "Home," he said, the word falling out of his mouth like a puzzle piece that didn't quite fit. He sat up slowly, his movements stiff and deliberate, as if every action was a calculation. Karen helped him out of the car, the rain now a steady shower, plinking against the metal of the Chum Bucket. "Come on," she said softly, guiding him inside. "Let's get you into bed." Plankton followed her obediently, his footsteps echoing in the stillness. The lab was a mess, but Karen ignored it, leading him to their tiny living quarters. The space was cluttered with gadgets and gizmos, but there was a warmth to it, a testament to their life together. Plankton's eye scanned the room, taking in every detail, his brain trying to process the overwhelming stimuli. Karen noticed the way he flinched at the brightness of the lights and quickly dimmed them, creating a soothing ambiance. "Better?" she asked, her voice soft. Plankton nodded, his movements more deliberate now. He seemed to be focusing intently on her, trying to piece together the world around him. Karen helped him into their small, cozy bed, the blankets familiar and comforting. As she tucked him in, she noticed his eye fixate on a book on the floor. "It's ok," she whispered, plucking it up and placing it on the nightstand. "We can clean up tomorrow." Plankton lay still, his gaze now on the ceiling, tracing the patterns of the tiles above. Karen sat beside him, her hand resting on his shoulder. "Is there anything you need?" she asked, her voice a gentle ripple in the quiet. "Need... to... understand," he repeated, the words a comforting mantra in the silence. Karen nodded, stroking his antennae. "I'll be here to help you, Plankton." The doctor's words replayed in her head. Autism wasn't a weakness, but a different way of experiencing the world. A world now filled with sensory overload for Plankton. She made a mental note to dim the lab lights and reduce noise levels. "Karen," he said, the word a question. "What... happened?" The palilalia had shifted from a mere repetition to a quest for knowledge. Karen took a deep breath. "You had an accident, Plankton," she explained, her voice calm and steady. "But we're going to figure this out together." Plankton's gaze remained fixed on the ceiling, his eye flitting from tile to tile as if the answers lay in their pattern. "Accident," he murmured, the word tumbling through his thoughts. Karen nodded, her heart heavy with the weight of the truth. "Yes, my love. You had an accident. But we're here now, and we're going to get through this." Plankton's eye searched hers, his voice a metronome of uncertainty. "Get... through... this." The words hung in the air, a question wrapped in a statement. "Through... this." Karen ached as she nodded, her voice a gentle caress. "Yes, Plankton. Together." Her hand reached out to cover his, her touch a silent promise. "We'll face each day as it comes." For a long moment, Plankton was silent, his gaze still trapped by the ceiling tiles. Then, his eye swiveled back to her, his voice a whisper of curiosity. "Together," he echoed, the word now a declaration. "We'll get through this together." Karen felt a tear slide down as she nodded, her smile a fragile thing. "Yes, Plankton, we will." She leaned in and kissed his cheek, his skin cool and clammy against her lips. His antennae twitched, and she knew he felt the warmth of her affection, even if he couldn't express it in the way she was used to. The next day dawned with a gentle glow, the sun peeking through the blinds of the Chum Bucket's living quarters. Karen woke up with a start, the events of the previous day crashing over her like a wave. For a brief moment, she allowed herself to hope it was all just a terrible dream. But the sight of Plankton's still form beside her, his breathing steady but different, brought reality back in a rush. They had a routine to maintain, a life to live despite the monumental shift in their world. Karen slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb him, and began the day's tasks. She knew that Plankton would wake soon, his mind likely already racing. The lab was a chaos of wires and gadgets, but she had a plan. Starting with the lights, she adjusted each one to a gentle glow, reducing the visual assault that could overwhelm him. Then, she moved on to the sounds, taping foam pads to the doors and machines to muffle the cacophony. It was a small change, but it was a step to making the environment more comfortable for his now sensitive senses. Karen knew the kitchen would be the next battleground. Plankton's love for the Krabby Patty had always been a source of both frustration and motivation. But now, the thought of the complex flavors and textures could be a sensory nightmare for him. She decided to start with simple, plain foods, things she knew he enjoyed before his tastes had become so singular. As she sliced a cucumber into thin, uniform pieces, she heard his footsteps approaching. The tap-tap-tap of his feet on the metal floor was a sound she could set her clock to, yet now it seemed foreign, a reminder of the autistic world he now inhabited. "Good morning," Karen called out, forcing cheer into her voice. Plankton's eye swiveled towards her, his movements jerky as he navigated the now-familiar space. "Good... morning," he responded, each word a deliberate choice. Karen placed the cucumber slices on a plate and slid it towards him, watching as his gaze flitted from one to the next, studying them before making a selection. The sight was both heartbreaking and fascinating, a window into his new reality. As they sat together at their tiny kitchen table, Plankton took a small, tentative bite, his face scrunching up as he chewed. Karen held her breath, waiting for his reaction. After a long moment, he nodded. "Good," he said simply, his voice still flat. Karen swelled with pride and sadness. It was a small victory, but it was a victory nonetheless. They would find their way through this, one bite at a time.

NO LESS TO BE DIFFERENT iv (Autistic author) Karen's voice was a beacon of peace in the tempest of his thoughts. He blinked once, twice, his antennae drooping in defeat. The room around them was a shambles, a testament to the battle he'd waged within himself. Sensing his distress, Karen spoke again, her tone soothing. "Remember, Plankton, no one's going to hurt you," she said, her voice a balm to his frayed nerves. "You're safe here." Plankton's body began to uncoil, his breathing slowing as his gaze focused on her. "Safe?" he echoed, the word a question. Karen nodded, her smile gentle. "Safe," she assured him. "We're going to take this one step at a time, together." Hanna watched the exchange, her anger replaced by a deep sorrow. She had never seen her friend in such pain, and the knowledge that she had played a part in it was a heavy weight on her heart. "I'm sorry Plankton," she whispered, her voice thick with unshed tears. But Plankton was lost in his own world, his mind echoing with the harshness of her words. "Maniac," he murmured, his voice a hollow imitation of Hanna's. "Leave you," he added, his eye swiveling back to Karen. Karen's heart ached at the sound of his echoed pain, her throat tight with unshed tears. "It's okay," she whispered, her hand resting gently on his arm. "You're not a maniac, Plankton." Her voice was a soft caress, a balm to his bruised psyche. But his echo continued, "Leave you," his voice a hollow reflection of Hanna's accusation. Karen's eyes grew wet as she looked at him, her heart breaking for his confusion. "No one's leaving, Plankton," she said firmly. "We're in this together." Hanna's brimming with tears, her own anger now a distant memory. "I'm sorry, Plankton," she choked out. "I didn't know." But Plankton's echolalia continued, each word a shard of Hanna's anger stabbing his psyche. "Monster," he repeated, his voice a haunting echo. "Ungrateful." Hanna's heard her own harsh words reflected back at her. "Plankton, I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice cracking. "I didn't know." Karen's gaze remained steadfast on Plankton's, her fingers gently stroking his arm. "You're not a monster," she murmured, her voice a soothing balm to his soul. "You're just... different." The echoes of Hanna's words still hung in the air, a sharp reminder of the hurt that had been dealt. Plankton's eye searched hers, his antennae drooping. "Plankton what’s your problem just act normal," he echoed, the word a whispered admission. Karen's filled with pain as she heard the echoes of Hanna's accusations. "You're not a problem," she said, her voice a soft reassurance. "You're just... you." But Plankton's echo grew louder, "Just you," he repeated, his face a mask of distress. "Wife... better." Karen wrenched at the thought of him feeling less than, his autism a prison of misunderstanding. "You're not a problem, Plankton," she whispered fiercely, her hand gripping his. Her voice was a lifeline, a reminder that he was loved, that his existence was not a mistake. But the echoes of Hanna's words continued, a relentless beat in his head. "Better," he murmured, his voice a shadow of hope. Karen's heart broke as she heard the echo of his own fear, the doubt planted by Hanna's accusation. "Better," he said again, the word a prayer. Her hand tightened on his. "You're not a problem," she said, her voice a declaration. "You're not something to be fixed." Plankton's eye searched hers, a flicker of hope. Karen knew she had to help him find peace amidst the storm of accusations. "You're not a monster." He stared at her, eye brimming with tears, his body curling in on itself. The weight of Hanna's words pressed down on him, his shoulders trembling with the effort to hold it all in. But the dam broke, and tears streamed down his face, each one a silent confession of his pain. Karen's heart clenched as she watched him, her own eyes filling with tears of empathy. Hanna stood there, her anger now replaced by a deep sense of guilt and sadness. "Plankton," she began, her voice trembling as she touched his shoulder. "NO!" Plankton screamed, pushing Hanna's hand away with such force that she stumbled back. "What's wrong?" she choked, her hands reaching out in an instinctive plea for peace. But Plankton was a whirlwind, his body trembling with the effort to push back against her touch. "No more," he murmured, his voice a whisper. "No more." Hanna stepped back, her hands dropping to her sides, her heart racing. "I'm sorry," she stammered. Plankton's eye remained on Karen, his body a tight coil of emotion. "No more," he whispered, the words a prayer for understanding. Karen could see the pain in his expression, the fear that Hanna's touch had brought to the surface. But Plankton's mind was a labyrinth of pain, each twist and turn a reflection of Hanna's accusations. "You," he murmured, his voice a whisper of accusation. Hanna felt a chill run down her spine, his gaze a knife that sliced through her. "Plankton, I didn't mean..." Hanna began. "Hanna hurt me," he murmured, his voice a ghostly echo of the anger he felt. Karen watched the scene unfold. "No, Plankton," she said gently. "Hanna didn't mean to hurt you. She just doesn't understand." Her voice was a soft breeze, trying to calm the storm in his mind. Plankton's gaze remained fixed on Hanna, his eye a whirlpool of emotion. "Hurt," he murmured, the word a cry of betrayal. "Hanna hurt." His voice was a whisper of pain. Hanna felt the weight of his accusation, her chest tightening as she realized the depth of his distress. "I didn't mean to," she whispered, her voice a desperate appeal for forgiveness. But Plankton was a fortress, his walls high and thick, his mind a whirlwind of confusion. "No more," he murmured again, his voice a plea for solace. Karen ached as she watched the two of them, the gulf of misunderstanding yawning wide. "It's ok, Plankton," she whispered, her voice a gentle guide. "Hanna's just trying to help." But Plankton's gaze was unyielding, his antennae still. "You," he repeated, his voice a solemn echo. "Hanna... no." Hanna felt the chill of his rejection, her hand hovering in midair as she searched for words to bridge the gap. "I'm sorry," she choked out, tight with unshed tears. "I didn't know Plankton," she began, her voice shaking. "I didn't mean to upset you." But Plankton's mind was a labyrinth of sensory input, his body a taut bowstring. "Stop," he murmured, his voice a desperate plea for peace. "Need stop." But Karen knew that words alone would not be enough to bring his world back into focus. With gentle movements, she guided Plankton into a quiet corner of the room, her touch a silent promise of safety. The softness of the cushions under him was a comforting contrast to the harshness of the words still echoing in his mind. She wrapped a weighted blanket around his shaking form, the pressure a grounding force against the storm within. Karen dimmed the lights, reducing the sensory assault on his overwhelmed senses. The flicker of candlelight cast a warm glow over the space, creating a haven from the chaos. "It's ok," she whispered, her voice a gentle reminder of his sanctuary. Plankton's antennae still twitched, his eye darting around the room, but the softness of the blanket was a steadfast reminder of his wife's embrace. He took a deep breath, the scent of lavender filling the air, a calming balm to his frayed nerves. “Thanks; I love you Karen.” Karen’s filled with relief and love as she watched his tense form slowly relax. “I know, Plankton,” she whispered, her hand stroking his arm. “And I love you too.” The gentle rhythm of her touch was a metronome to his racing heart, each stroke bringing him closer to the calm he craved.

NO LESS TO BE DIFFERENT v (Autistic author) The room grew quiet, the only sound their ragged breaths. Plankton’s eye grew heavy, his body sinking deeper into the embrace of the cushions and blanket. His mind whirled with the events of the day, the diagnosis, the changes, Hanna’s harsh words, and the overwhelming need to escape. His eyelid drooped, his body slowly unwinding from the tension that had held him hostage. "You're okay," Karen murmured, her voice a gentle lullaby in the quiet of the room. "You're safe." The words washed over Plankton like a warm bath, soothing the raw edges of his overstimulated mind. He let out a shaky sigh, his body sinking into the cocoon she had created. The softness of the cushions cradled him, the weight of the blanket a comforting reminder of her presence. His eye grew heavier, the weight of the day's events lifting from his shoulders. Karen's voice was a gentle lullaby, a constant reminder that he was not alone in this new reality. "You're okay," she whispered. "You're safe." The warmth of the room enveloped him, the candles casting a soft glow that danced on the walls. His breaths grew deep and even, his body finally relaxing into sleep. Hanna watched from a distance, filled with regret and sorrow. She saw Plankton’s peaceful features, a stark contrast to the turmoil he'd been in moments before. His small frame looked so fragile, his antennae resting gently on the pillow. Her hand hovered over him, wanting to offer comfort but afraid of the reaction she might elicit. She took a tentative step forward, her heart in her throat. What had she done? Her mind raced with the echoes of their argument. Hanna's gaze lingered on his sleeping face, the lines of distress now smoothed away by the gentle embrace of slumber. She felt a pang of regret for the harshness of her words, the accusations she had thrown at him in a fit of anger. Her hand hovered above his forehead, a silent offer of comfort, but she held back. How could she touch him now, after causing so much pain? Her screen searched his serene expression, her heart aching for the friend she had lost in the storm of misunderstanding. Plankton's features, once twisted with anger and fear, were now a canvas of peace. His antennae lay still against the pillow, a stark contrast to the tumult of moments prior. Hanna felt a tear slide down her cheek as she took in the sight of him, so vulnerable and alone in his corner of the room. Her hand hovered over his forehead, a silent apology for the hurt she had caused. The warmth of her palm was a ghostly presence in the air, yearning to bridge the gap her words had created. But she held back, fearful of the reaction she might stir in his slumber. Hanna searched his tranquil face, the echoes of their confrontation a stark contrast to his current peace. The soft rise and fall of his chest was a testament to his resilience, his ability to find calm amidst the chaos. She felt a wave of sorrow wash over her, regretting her role in the storm that had ravaged his mind. Her hand hovered above his face, the warmth of her palm a silent apology for the pain she had inflicted. But she knew that touch was a minefield for Plankton now, a gesture that might shatter the fragile serenity he had found. So, she simply watched. Hanna searched his features, her gaze lingering on the delicate curve of his antennae, the way his eye was shut, the gentle rise and fall of his chest. Plankton's face was a canvas of peace in the candlelit room, a stark contrast to the tumultuous scene that had just unfolded. His sleep was a sanctuary she dared not disturb. Her hand hovered over him, wanting to smooth his furrowed forehead but held back by fear of what her touch might do to him. Her mind raced with a whirlwind of regret and sorrow. What had she said to him? What had she done? Hanna's a storm of emotion, her thoughts a cacophony of doubt and despair. She had never meant to cause him pain, had never understood the depth of his distress. Her hand hovered above his sleeping form, a silent testament to her regret. The candlelight cast a soft glow over his face, his features etched with the traces of his anguish. Plankton's single eye was closed, a tiny line of tension still present between his antennae. His breaths came slow and deep, a stark contrast to the harshness of his earlier cries. The quiet of the room was a stark contrast to the tumult of her thoughts, each breath a reminder of the damage her words had wrought. Hanna's gaze lingered on his sleeping form, her hands clenched at her sides. How could she have been so blind, so cruel? She watched as his antennae twitched in his sleep, his mouth slighty parted. Karen approached Hanna, her movements deliberate and calm. "Look," she whispered, guiding her hand to Plankton's shoulder. "This is how you touch him." Hanna searched her for guidance, the weight of her actions heavy on her mind. "Like this?" she asked, her fingers hovering above his body, unsure. Karen nodded, a soft smile gracing her. "Yes," she murmured. "Gently, with care." She guided Hanna's hand, her fingertips brushing the outline of Plankton's shoulder. The touch was light, feather-soft, a gentle caress that sent a shiver of comfort through him. Plankton's antennae twitched in his sleep, his body responding to the familiarity of Karen's touch. His breathing grew deeper, his form more relaxed under the weight of her hand. Hanna's screen searched Karen's, looking for reassurance. "See?" Karen whispered. "He's calmer now." The gentleness in her voice was a stark contrast to the harshness of their earlier exchange. "This is how you touch him when he's upset," she said, her hand guiding Hanna's. "With care, with love." Under her guidance, Hanna's fingers hovered over Plankton's shoulder, barely making contact with his skin. The touch was a silent promise of apology, of understanding, of a bond that went beyond the surface of their friendship. Karen watched as Hanna's hand trembled, the weight of their situation heavy upon them both. "It's ok," she whispered. "He's safe now." Guiding her friend's hand, Karen demonstrated the gentle squeeze that Plankton responded to, the pressure a silent reminder of her love and support. Hanna searched his face, the guilt in them dimming as she felt his body relax under her tentative touch. "Just like this," Karen murmured, her voice a gentle guidance in the quiet room. Her fingertips traced a circle on his shoulder, a comforting gesture that she knew by heart. Plankton's antennae stirred slightly, his body acknowledging the familiar comfort. "It's all about his sensory needs," she explained softly, her voice a soothing balm. Hanna's hand mirrored Karen's, the softness of her touch a stark contrast to her earlier anger. Plankton's body reacted immediately, his muscles unclenching, his breaths deepening. The room was a sanctuary of quiet, the only sound the soft sigh of relief. Karen never left Plankton, her gaze a silent instruction. "You see?" she whispered. Hanna nodded, her hand trembling slightly as she mirrored Karen's movements. The contact was light, almost ethereal, a silent communication that transcended words. She felt him relax under her touch, his breaths growing deeper. "It's okay," Karen murmured, her voice a gentle reassurance. The candlelight danced on the walls, casting shadows that seemed to hold their breath as they watched over him. Plankton's sleep grew more peaceful, the tension in his body slowly ebbing away. Under Karen's guidance, Hanna's hand grew steadier, her touch a silent apology. Each stroke, each squeeze, was a promise to learn, to understand, to be a better friend. The softness of her movements was a stark contrast to the harshness of her words, a testament to her willingness to change. Plankton's body grew still, his antennae lying flat against the pillow. The room was a sanctuary of quiet, the candle's glow a gentle reminder of the love that surrounded him. Hanna watched him filled with sorrow and regret. "Thank you," she whispered to Karen, her voice a fragile thread in the stillness. Karen never left his peaceful visage, a silent prayer of gratitude for the calm they had restored. "You have to understand," she murmured, her voice a gentle teach. "He has a condition..” "I just... I thought he was being difficult." The words hung in the air, a confession of ignorance and pain. Karen ached for her friend, the depth of her remorse evident. "It's not difficulty," Karen explained gently. "It's just... different." Hanna's screen searched hers, a flicker of understanding beginning to dawn. "I didn't know," she whispered, her voice a plea for forgiveness. "I didn't mean to hurt him." Karen nodded, her hand still on Plankton's shoulder. "I know," she said softly. "But now you do. And now, we learn together."

Wisdoms i i/i Sponge Bob leaned in close. "What you say, Planky?" Plankton's head lolled to the side, eye half-closed. "Bubbles?" "You're gonna have to stay still." "Kay," Plankton mumbled, eye shut again. Karen chuckled. "You're a riot, you know that?" she said. Plankton's head lolled back on the chair. "Don't worry, Plankton. You're going to be just fine. It's all over now." Plankton nodded, trying to keep up. "Th-thank you," he slurred. "I think I need... need a nap." "You've already had nap, Plankton, we can go now." The nurse handed her gauze. "Keep this with you as needed," she instructed. Karen nodded. They helped Plankton into the car. Karen buckled him in, his head lolling to the side. "You're gonna be ok," she said, her voice a comforting hum. "Mm-hmm," Plankton murmured, head lolling to the side. "Mmm, ch...ch...chew some...some ch...ch...chum," Plankton mumbled, eye half-closed. Karen chuckled. "No chum for you, Plankton. You need your mouth heal." Sponge Bob nods. "I can make you a chum-free smoothie without chewing!" Plankton's eye rolled back in his head. "Mm...no...no chewing..." Karen laughed softly. "You're gonna be fine," she said. Plankton nodded, eyelid fluttering open and closed. "Mmm...Karen...my hero," he slurred, speech still thick and wobbly. "Mmm...no...more...tweef...," Plankton mumbled, eyelid drooping again. "Don't worry, Plankton," Karen said. "You're all done." Plankton nodded, eye still half-closed. "Mmm...no more tweef," he murmured, voice distant. Sponge Bob giggled. "That's right, Planky," he said, patting Plankton's arm. Plankton began to snore gently. Karen laughed, shaking her head. "Bet he's going to be so surprised when he wakes up home without tweef!" "Home...," Plankton's voice trails off as he snored. "We're almost," Karen said smiling at his loopy state. Plankton's eye fluttered open, speech still thick. "Tweef...tweef..." Sponge Bob looked with amusement. "Planky, no more tweef for you," he said. Plankton nodded slowly, his mind still in anesthesia. "Mm-hmm," he murmured. Karen pulled the car in their driveway. "Plankton, we're home," she said, her voice gentle. "Come on, Plankton," she said, her voice a gentle coax. "Let's get you in." Plankton leaned heavily on her, eye half-closed. "Mm'kay," he mumbled, his voice a slow drawl. "Home...no tweef." They managed in. "Sit down, Plankton," she instructed. "Mmm...sit," Plankton mumbled, his head lolling as he plopped on the couch. "Planky, I'm going to make you the best chum-free smoothie!" Plankton nodded, his head rolling to the side. "Mm'kay," he murmured, tongue thick in his mouth. "Mmm...no...no chewing," he slurred. Karen laughed softly, stroking his arm. "Voilà!" he exclaimed. "The Chum Bucket's finest, no-chew-required smoothie!" Plankton's eye flickered. "Fru...fruit?" "Yep, Planky's favorite!" Plankton's eye squinted. "Mm...no...no chum?" "Nope, no chum! It's all fruity goodness for you, Planky!" Karen took the glass with a smile, taking a spoon after removing gauze. "Mm...tastes...tastes..." His eye widened as the sweetness hit. "Goooood," he mumbled. Karen chuckled, carefully feeding him another spoonful. "You see, Plankton? No more troublesome tweef." "Mm-hmm," he murmured, eyelid fluttering as he tasted the cool, fruity blend. "M'good." "Just keep sipping," she said, her voice a soothing wave. "It'll help." Plankton nodded, his eyelid drooping. "Mm...good," he took another spoonful, the fruit blend cool and comforting. "You're doing great, Plankton!" "Mm...thanks. Fruit...tastes...tastes like...like...a vacation." Plankton managed to convey his appreciation. "Mm...fank...fank you," he slurred, eye drifting shut. Sponge Bob giggled. Plankton took another spoonful. "Mm...so...so good," he murmured, words still as wobbly as his legs had been. Sponge Bob nods. "See, Planky, I told you no more tweef would be a good thing!" Plankton's eye remained half-closed as he slurred his words. "Mm...good...no...no more tweef." Karen and Sponge Bob exchanged glances, smiles growing wider at the sight of him. "That's right, Plankton," Karen said, her voice a gentle tide. "No more pesky wisdom teeth." Plankton nodded, eyelid still drooping. "Mm...so...so happy," he mumbled. "No...more...owies." Karen chuckled. "You're going to be just fine," she assured. "Mm...fine," Plankton murmured, his head lolling back. "M'glad...glad it's...it's over." Karen chuckled, stroking his arm. "You're gonna need rest, Plankton," she said. "The anesthesia will wear off soon." "Mmm...rest," Plankton mumbled, eye struggling to stay open. "No...no more tweef." "That's right, Plankton." Plankton's eye rolled back in his head. "M'tired," he mumbled. "Wis...wisdom...wis...wis...wis..." Karen laughed. "It's ok, Plankton," she said. "Wis...wis...wis...wis...," Plankton's voice trailed off as his head lolled to the side. Karen laughed softly. "You don't have to say it anymore." Plankton nods. "M'tired," he murmured. "M'going...going to...to..." His sentence trailed off as his eye closed completely, snoring gently as his head slips onto Sponge Bob's shoulder. "Looks like he's out," he said, patting Plankton's back. Karen couldn't help but smile at the sight of Plankton's peaceful slumber. "Let's get you cleaned up, Plankton," she said. Sponge Bob carefully lifted Plankton's head, the tiny villain's snores becoming more pronounced. "We need to keep his mouth clean and get him to bed." Karen stood up. "Like this," she demonstrated, placing one hand under Plankton's back and the other under his knees. They shuffled him into the bathroom, his snores echoing down the hall. Karen wet a washcloth with warm water. "Open up, Plankton," she instructed, her voice a gentle wave. Plankton's eye flickered open with effort. He leaned his head back, allowing her to clean his mouth. The warm water felt like a kiss from the ocean, soothing his dull feeling gums. "Good job," Karen praised. "Almost done." Sponge Bob hovered nearby. "You're doing great, Planky," he said, eyes shining with kindness. "Mm...tanks," Plankton mumbled, eyelid fluttering. "M'tired." Karen nodded. "I know, sweetie. Let's get you some gauze." She unwrapped a piece of gauze. "Bite down on this," she instructed gently. Plankton's tiny mouth opened, and he took the gauze between his teeth, his eye fluttering shut as he felt the softness against his swollen gums. The warmth of the water and the gentle pressure of the cloth brought him a semblance of comfort. "Mm...better," he murmured, his voice a sleepy whisper. With Plankton's mouth now clean and gauzed, they carefully guided him to the bedroom. They managed to get Plankton into bed. Karen arranged the blankets around him, her movements careful and tender. Plankton's single eyelid fluttered open. "M'good," he slurred, his voice barely above a whisper. Karen chuckled. "Rest now," she said, her voice a gentle tide. "Spongey will stay with you." "M'kay," Plankton murmured, his eyelid slipping shut. Sponge Bob settled into the chair beside the bed, his eyes never leaving his friend. "You just sleep, Planky," he whispered, his voice like the soft lapping of waves. Plankton's snores grew deeper, the sound of his breathing rhythmic and soothing. Karen leaned down to kiss him on the forehead. "Rest well, my love," she said, her voice a gentle murmur. Sponge Bob's eyes grew wide as he took in the quiet room. He sat up straight in the chair, his eyes darting to the sleeping Plankton. "Okay, Planky," he murmured, his voice a soft rumble of the ocean floor. "I'm here. No more tweef for you." Plankton's snores grew softer, his body relaxing into the embrace of the bed. In the quiet room, Plankton stirred, his snoreless breathing the only sound. Plankton's single eyelid eventually flickered open. "Mm...wha?" he mumbled, his voice still thick. Sponge Bob's eyes grew wide. "It's ok, Planky," he whispered, his voice a soft ripple. Plankton's eye blinked rapidly, trying to focus on his surroundings. "What...what happen'd?" he mumbled, his speech still wobbly like jelly on a plate. Sponge Bob leaned closer. "You had your wisdom teeth removed," he whispered, his voice a gentle nudge. "Remember?" Plankton's eye squinted, his brain working to piece together the fragments of the day. "Mm...teef?" he murmured, his voice a foggy memory. Sponge Bob nodded solemnly. "Yes, Planky, no more tweef," he whispered, his voice a gentle echo in the quiet room. Plankton's eye widened, his mind racing. "I...I don't remember anything," he said, his voice still thick. Sponge Bob nods. "Don't worry, Planky," he whispered, his voice a warm current. "You're all fixed up now. No more tweef to worry about." "But...but how?" he mumbled, his voice a distant echo. Sponge Bob chuckled, his eyes glinting with amusement. "You were sleeping like a rock," he whispered, his voice a playful bubble. Plankton's curiosity piqued despite his grogginess. "But...but how did I get here?" he slurred, a slow, meandering stream. "Karen brought you home after the surgery," he explained, his eyes as bright as the moon's reflection on the water. Plankton's eye fluttered as he tried to process the information. "Sur...surgery?" Sponge Bob nodded, his grin as wide as the ocean. "Yeah, Planky," he whispered. "You were out like a light!" Plankton's eye wandered around the room, his mind racing. "But, why'd I agwee to something like that? Nevermind; what are you doin’ here?" "I'm here to take care of you, Planky," he whispered. "And as for the surgery, well, your teeth were causing you a lot of trouble. You were pretty out of it. But Dr. Bubblefish said it's all over now, and you're going to be fine." Plankton's trying to remember. "Dr. Bubblefish? I remember the x-ray.." he mumbled, his voice like a distant echo. "That's right, Planky," he said. "But everything went well. You're all fixed up now."

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

⠤⢠⡟⠁⢻⡄⠀⠀⠐⠠⠀⠀⠀⠄⠂⠠⠀⠀⠄⢠⣤⣤⣦⠼⢞⠇⠠⠈⣻⡶ ⠛⠋⠁⠁⠀⠙⠚⠛⣲⠶⠀⠀⠄⢄⠉⣶⠁⠀⠀⠀⠙⢧⣄⠀⠀⠅⠀⠁⢈⠠ ⣆⠀⠀⡀⠠⠀⢠⡞⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⠀⢙⣧⠀⠨⢁⠨⢀⠸ ⣽⠀⠸⣿⡿⠀⢸⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⢸⡇⠀⣀⣒⢦⣆⠡ ⣯⡶⠟⠉⠑⠢⢤⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠷⠛⠁⠀⠑⠩⢛ ⠁⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⠠⢂ ⠀⠀⠔⢖⠁⢀⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡊⠲⠀⠈⠄ ⠀⠇⠀⠀⠆⠾⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠁⠈⠀⠀⡀ ⢈⠐⠀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠤⢄ ⠀⠏⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⢀⠀⠀⢀⣀⠀⠘⢀ ⠐⡒⣜⢿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠀⢀⡞⢻⣆⠊⠠ ⣉⣽⠋⠀⠽⣄⣀⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⡾⠁⢾⣿⣿⣧ ⠉⠀⢀⠀⠈⡀⠉⣈⠿⠁⠀⠀⠐⢆⠁⢀⠆⠀⠀⠘⢿⣉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠋⢠ ⣶⠀⠠⠀⠀⢐⣾⠉⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠈⠂⠊⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⢶⡄⠀⠀⠀⢀⠂⣾ ⡗⢨⣥⣦⣌⡈⣹⡄⠀⠀⠀⠡⠀⠀⠀⢀⠈⠁⠀⠈⠀⠀⣸⠃⠀⣀⣤⡀⠄⣻

ᵀʰᵉ ᴬᶜᶜⁱᵈᵉⁿᵗ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ pt. 5 ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʰᵉˡᵖᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ˢᵉᵃᵗ‧ "ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵐᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱˢ ˢʰᵉˡˡ; ʷʰᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵐᵘˢᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ˢᵉᵉⁿ ʷᵃˢ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʰᵉ ˢʰᵉᵈᵈᵉᵈ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃⁱᵈ⸴ ˡᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵐᵒᵉᵇᵃ ᵖᵘᵖᵖʸ ˢᵗᵃʸ ᵇʸ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴵˢ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉᵉˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿʸ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ?" ᴬˢᵏᵉᵈ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ʷᵉʳᵉ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʷᵉʳᵉ⸴ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʳᵉˢᵗ‧ "ᔆᵒᵘⁿᵈˢ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵐᵘˢᵗ'ᵛᵉ ᵈᵒᶻᵉᵈ ᵒᶠᶠ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵒᵇˢᵉʳᵛᵉᵈ ʰᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᑫᵘⁱᵉᵗˡʸ ˢᵒⁿᵒʳᵒᵘˢ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰˢ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵃʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵃʳᵐ ᵃʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ⸴ ˡᵉᵍ ᵉˡᵉᵛᵃᵗᵉᵈ‧ "ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ᵇʳᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵃ ᵍⁱᶠᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷᵃˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈᵉᵈ ᵃ ᴷʳᵃᵇᵇʸ ᴾᵃᵗᵗʸ‧ "ᴵᵗ'ˢ ᶠᵒʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉⁿʲᵒʸ⸴ ˢᵃᵛᵉ ⁱᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʷᵃˢ ʰᵃᵖᵖʸ ᵗᵒ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ʷⁱᵗʰ ⁱᵗ‧ End finale

NEUROBEHAVIORAL PLANKTON ii (Autistic author) The doctor stepped in, his tentacles moving gently as he spoke. "Mr. Plankton, it's important to stay calm. This is a big change. Can you tell me your name?" Plankton's gaze flicked from Karen to Dr. Kelp, his expression a mask of confusion. "I'm Plankton," he managed to say, his voice shaky. The doctor nodded, his tentacles still and calm. "Good. That's good, Mr. Plankton. Do you know where you are?" Plankton's eye darted around the room again, his breathing growing rapid and shallow. He looked down and then back up at Karen. "What's happening?" he repeated for the third time, his voice now a little more frantic. Karen's heart was in her throat. The doctor's explanation was beginning to take root in her mind, and she could see the stark reality of their situation. Plankton's repetition, his difficulty with understanding new surroundings and his increased sensitivity to sound—these were all hallmarks of his new autism. The doctor continued his assessment. "Mr. Plankton, can you tell me your wife's name?" he prompted. Plankton's gaze shifted to Karen, his expression becoming more focused, as if her presence was the only familiar thing in the room. "Karen," he said, his voice softening slightly. The doctor nodded, making a note on his clipboard. "Good. Now, can you tell me what happened before you woke up?" Plankton's eye flitted back to Karen, searching for answers. He began to rock slightly, his body moving in a rhythmic motion, a common self-soothing behavior for those on the autism spectrum. Karen recognized it immediately but seeing it in Plankton was jarring. His gaze darted around the room, his pupil dilating with every new sound or movement. The doctor's tentacles were a blur of activity making notes. "Mr. Plankton, I see you're feeling You're almost ready to go back home with Karen." Dr. Kelp says calmly. "Just one more question, if you don't mind. Now, can you tell me if you have any pets?" Plankton's eye flitted around the room. "Pets? Spot! Yes, Spot. Amoeba puppy; Spot.." The doctor nodded, his tentacles still scribbling notes. "Very good, Mr. Plankton. It seems like your long-term memory is intact, which is a positive sign. Now Karen can take you home!" Karen felt a wave of relief crash over her, but it was tinged with the stark reality that their life was never going to be the same. Plankton's autistic mannerisms were now a constant reminder of the accident—his newfound need for routine, his heightened sensitivity to surroundings, and the way his eye would dance around the room as he tried to make sense of his environment. As they arrived home, the stark reality of their new life hit Karen like a wave. His once-quick steps had been replaced with a cautious shuffle, as if the very floor beneath him was unpredictable. Inside, Plankton was drawn to the rhythmic ticking of the grandfather clock, his eye fixated on the second hand's journey. Karen watched him. His newfound need for predictability was overwhelmingly apparent. "Let's sit down," she suggested, guiding him to their couch, which was now occupied by Spot. Plankton's gaze flitted around the living room, his eye alighting on his beloved amoeba puppy Spot. "Spot," he murmured, his voice tentative, as if unsure if his words would have the same effect they once did. The pup looked up at him, its blob-like form shifting slightly with excitement. But instead of the weariness Plankton has shown today, he joyfully watched Spot's movements. Karen felt a moment of warmth— his love for Spot hadn't changed, nor their usual interactions. The doctor had told her that routines were vital for those with his condition. So, she decided to start their day with a familiar activity: breakfast. Plankton's eye lit up at the sight of the familiar kitchen. He took his usual seat at the table, his hands fidgeting with the napkin. Karen noticed his meticulous arrangement of his silverware, the way he lined up his plate and cup perfectly parallel to the edges. As she prepared their meal, she could feel his gaze on her, his eye darting between her and Spot, who was now playfully chasing his own tail in a loop around the living room. He began to hum a tune, his voice off-key and repetitive. Karen's with love despite the pain she felt. The clanging of pans was loud in the silence, making Plankton flinch—this was going to be so much harder than she had anticipated. The doctor's instructions echoed in her mind: stick to routine, keep things simple. Karen set the breakfast plates down carefully, each item placed exactly where Plankton liked it. His eye grew wide as she slid his plate closer. He stared at the food for a moment, then picked up his spoon. The clink of metal on porcelain was like a gunshot to his heightened sensitivity. He dropped the spoon, his hands shooting up to cover his head in distress. "It's okay, sweetheart," Karen soothed, moving quickly to his side. She retrieved the spoon and set it aside, her hand trembling slightly. "You don't have to eat right now," she said softly, her voice a gentle caress against the tension in the room. Plankton nodded slightly, his breathing slowing as his hands uncovered his ears. He fidgeted in his chair, his eye darting to the ceiling as if searching for something. "Let's go read a book," Karen suggested, desperate to find anything that might calm his nerves. Plankton nodded slightly, his gaze still unfocused. He stood up carefully, his body moving with the precision of a man who knew his world had changed. As they approached the bookshelf, his eye caught a glint of metal from the corner of the room. The invention that had brought them here lay in a tangled heap, its wires and gears silent and ominous, giving him déjà vu. Plankton stopped, his body rigid, his gaze locked on the machine. He stared unblinking, his mind racing back to the crash. Karen notices his suddenly unmoving form and gets concerned. "Plankton?" she calls softly, but he doesn't react. His entire being seemed to be consumed by the wreckage of his former life. The invention, a testament to his former brilliance, now a grim reminder of the accident. "Plankton, honey," Karen's voice was barely a whisper as she tried to get him to talk. He didn't move. The invention, a tangled web of wires and gears, seemed to hold his gaze captive. It was the very machine that had caused this transformation. Karen followed his gaze, her heart sinking as she realized the source of his distress. "Let's go to another room," she suggested gently, her hand resting on his arm. But he didn't move. Karen felt the weight of the moment settle heavily on her shoulders. It was time to face the reality of their new life together—a life where Plankton's once sharp wit and innovative spirit were now clouded by a disorder she was only beginning to understand. Her heart swelled with sorrow as she observed his interaction with the inanimate objects around him. The love she had for him remained unshaken, but the thought of what they had lost—what he had lost—was almost too much to bear. "Come on," she coaxed, her voice gentle as a lullaby. "Let's go to the living room. I'll read you a story?" Yet Plankton remains frozen. So Karen made a decision. She couldn't bear the thought of that accursed machine looming over them, a constant reminder of the tragic turn their lives had taken. With a fierce determination she hadn't felt in ages, she strode over to the invention and began to dismantle it, piece by painful piece. The metal clanked and clattered as she worked, her movements quick and sure, each part coming off with a satisfying crunch. Plankton's eye followed her, his expression unreadable. When the last piece was removed, his gaze lifted to meet hers, his eye filled with something that looked akin to gratitude. "Thank you, Karen," Plankton murmured, his voice a quiet rumble in the stillness of the now bare room. Karen paused in her task, her eyes meeting his with a surprised expression. This was the first time since the accident that he had spoken to her with anything other than fear or confusion. "You're welcome," she said, her voice choked with emotion.

"Ok, Plankton I'm going to give you something to help you relax." The nurse prepped a syringe, the cold liquid sliding into his gum line. The doctor's voice grew distant. Karen's hand tightened around his, as the anesthesia took hold. Plankton closed his eye, numbness spread. He felt his heart rate slow and his muscles relax as the world around him faded to a gentle buzz. The anesthetic was administered, and doctor's instructions to count back from ten echoed in his mind, but he never made it past seven. The doctor's skilled extracted the troublesome teeth. Plankton's face remained still, his breathing deep and even under the influence of the anesthesia. Karen squeezed his hand again, hoping he could feel her support through the unconsciousness. The doctor's face broke to a satisfied smile. "All done," he said, gesturing to the nurse to start cleaning up. "Everything went smoothly." Karen nodded to express her gratitude. "We'll keep him here for a bit longer to make sure he's fully recovered from the anesthesia, but you can stay with him." As the doctor stepped out, Karen pulled up a chair next to Plankton. His features looked almost childlike, and couldn't help but feel a twinge of protectiveness. He might be trouble, but she cared for him deeply. The nurse bustled around, removing various tubes and monitors attached to him, and soon the room was quiet once more, filled only with the low murmur of the machines. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, and Karen sat there, holding his hand. The nurse finished her work and gave Karen a nod, indicating that she could talk to Plankton if she wanted. Leaning in close, she whispered, "You did good. Just a little bit longer, and you'll be back." Plankton's eye fluttered open, and he groaned, his speech slurred from the anesthesia. "K-Karen?" "I'm here," she said, smoothing back his antennae. His eye searched for a moment before the reality of the situation set in, and he tried to sit up. "Easy now," Karen said soothingly, gently pushing him back down. "You're okay. The surgery's over. You did great!" Plankton's gaze darted around the room, trying to focus. "Where... where are they?" he mumbled, his voice thick and groggy. Plankton's eye narrowed in confusion before drifted shut again. "Did we get... the formula?" he slurred, his mind still clinging to his latest obsession. Karen couldn't help but chuckle. "Not today. But don't worry." She watching him closely as the anesthesia wore off. "You've been out.." "So, we didn't get it?" he asked. The nurse turned to them, noticing Plankton awake. "How are you feeling?" "Woozy," Plankton slurred words thick and slow. The doctor nodded understandingly. "That's normal. The anesthesia will wear off in a bit, but you'll be feeling a bit out of it for the rest of the day. You'll need to keep that ice on your jaw to reduce the swelling." Plankton's eye searched Karen's face, his mind still fuzzy. "Why you smiling?" he asked. "I was just thinking about how you're going to have to eat mashed peas." Plankton groaned. "Mashed peas?" Karen nodded. "Don't worry, I'll make sure you have plenty of jellyfish juice to keep your strength up. Let's get home," Karen said as she helped him to his feet. He swayed slightly, and she went to steady him. The walk to the car was a blur for Plankton. He leaned heavily on Karen. "Why the floor tiles look like they're moving?" he murmured. Karen chuckled, her hand round his waist. "It's just playing tricks." They made their way out to the parking lot Karen opened the door, and Plankton stumbled in, collapsing onto the backseat. "You ok?" she asked. "I think... I think I'm ok," Plankton mumbled, eye slowly closing again. "Just need... to sleep." Karen nodded and got into the driver's seat, starting the engine. As they pulled out of the parking lot, Plankton's head lolled to the side, and he began to snore softly. She couldn't help but chuckle at his vulnerable state. It was a rare sight to see the ever-scheming Plankton so out of commission. The drive home was smooth. Karen glanced back at him, his face relaxed and peaceful. When they arrived at the Chum Bucket, Plankton's snores grew as she helped him in. He barely stirred as she placed a cold pack on his swollen jaw and handed him a glass of jellyfish juice. Plankton took a sip, his eye fluttering open. "Ah, Karen," he slurred. His eye were glazed over as he tried to adjust the ice pack. Karen puts it back in the right spot, tucking a pillow behind his head, patting his shoulder gently. "You need strength...." He reached for the notepad, scribbling illegibly. "Got to keep planning," he mumbled, voice a distant echo of his usual enthusiasm. Karen couldn't help but chuckle at his determination. "You should focus on getting better." Plankton's eye widened, and he tried to sit up, knocking the ice pack to the floor. "The formula!" he exclaimed, his words still slurred. "Shh, it's ok," Karen said, placing a hand on his shoulder and gently pushing him back down. "The formula can wait." He mumbled something about "Krabs" and "plan," but words were too jumbled to make sense. Karen recognized the signs of his usual scheming, even in his state. This was the Plankton she knew, always thinking of his next move, even when he could barely keep his eye open. As she cleared a space on the cluttered lab bench for him to lie down, she noticed his scribbled notes on the notepad. The words "Patty" and "formula" peeked out from a mess of squiggles and half-formed thoughts. She couldn't help but feel pride. Plankton might be a bit loopy from the anesthesia, but his spirit was sharp. She picked up the pad tried to make sense of the scrawl. Plankton watched her, his eye tracking her movements. "You're not... stealing my ideas, are you?" he accused, voice still thick with sleep. "No," Karen said, trying to keep a straight face. The room was a swirl of colors and shapes to Plankton as he attempted to focus on Karen's face. He closed his eye. "I'm perfectly... coherent," he slurred, trying to sit up again. The room tilted dangerously, and he had to grab the edge of the bench to steady himself. "Let's not have you knocking anything over clumsy." "I'm not clumsy," he protested, his words coming out in a slow drawl. "Ok," Karen said, holding up her hands in mock surrender. "I believe you, Mr. Graceful." Plankton slumped against the pillow, the effort of arguing too much for his post-surgery state. He mumbled something about jellyfish jelly. Karen shook her head. She knew he'd be back to his usual self in no time, but for now, he needed to rest. The hours ticked by, the only sounds being Plankton's snores. Karen sat glancing over at him. His chest rose and fell in a deep, steady rhythm, and she couldn't help but feel a sense of relief. The surgery had been a success. As the sun began to set, Plankton stirred. His eye popped open, and looked around the room with a wild look. "Karen, where are we?" "You're home." Plankton blinked, gaze unfocused. "Home," he repeated, as if trying to convince himself. "But what about my teeth?" Karen couldn't help laugh at his bewilderment. "They're gone. The doctor took them out." Plankton's expression one of shock. "They're really... gone?" "Yep," Karen said, voice filled with amusement. "You don't have to worry." Plankton's expression mix of confusion and relief. "But... how? I don't remember anything." Karen chuckled. "That's anesthesia for you. It's like a vacation from reality." Plankton blinked, his mind racing to catch up with the situation. "Vacation?" he murmured, the sounding foreign in his mouth. "No, no, no," he protested, flailing about as he tried to sit up. "We must... we must... " His words trailed off through the anesthesia haze. Karen placing a firm but gentle hand on his shoulder. "Plankton, please. You just had surgery." "But the Krabby Patty... the formula... we can't lose it," he slurred, voice cracking. Karen's smile softens. "Don't worry just focus on you getting better." Plankton stilled, and he nodded slowly, antennae drooping. "Ok," he murmured. "But as soon as I can, we go back to work." "Of course," Karen said soothingly, pushing him back down onto the makeshift bed. The room grew quiet again, save for the occasional snore from Plankton and the low hum of lab equipment. Hours passed by the time Plankton stirred again. His eye blinked open a glimmer of lucidity in his gaze. "Karen?" he called out, his voice still slurred but with a hint of urgency. "I'm here," she said. She had been keeping watch. Plankton sat up slowly, the anesthesia's finally lifted. His jaw felt heavy. "How long was I out?" "A few hours," Karen replied, her voice calm and assuring. She had been expecting this moment, when the fog of the anesthesia would clear. "I feel like I've been hit by a Krabby Patty press," he grumbled, holding his jaw gingerly. "It's normal," Karen said, her voice steady. "Give it time. The pain will ease up." "What about the... the formula?" he asked, his voice strained. "It's safe," Karen assured him. "Mr. Krabs doesn't even know you're down for the count." The mention brought a spark of energy to Plankton's eye. He pushed himself to his feet, the cold pack slipping to the floor with a wet thud. "We can't waste time," he said, his voice stronger now. "We must... we must..." But before he could finish his thought, a wave of dizziness washed over him, and he stumbled flailing. Karen caught him, grip firm but gentle, and helped him back down to the bench. "You're not going anywhere." Plankton groaned, stubbornness battling with his body's insistence on recovery. "But the... the Patty," he mumbled. "I know," Karen said, her tone a mix of sympathy and amusement. "But you're in no shape right now. Besides, we've got a week of mashed peas to look forward to." "Why does it have to be mashed peas?"

WISDOMS i Plankton had an appointment at the dentist and Karen promised to take him. SpongeBob, an ever-cheerful neighbor, had offered to come along. The trio stepped out of the car, the door of dentist's office chiming a tune that seemed like the 'Jolly Roger' theme. Sponge Bob bounced in place. The door to the room opened, and in waddled Dr. Bubblefish. "Ah, Mr. Plankton, right on time for x-rays!" The room was a stark contrast to the playful tune. It smelled faintly of mint and antiseptic, with the metallic instruments glinting in bright lights. Dr. Bubblefish waddled over, his flippers moving swiftly as he gestured to the chair. Plankton's eye darts around. "Now, Mr. Plankton if you could just open wide," Dr. Bubblefish instructed holding up a contraption. Karen gave a gentle pat on his shoulder. "It's ok, Plankton. It'll be over before you know it," she assured with a comforting smile. Plankton took a deep breath and opened his mouth. Sponge Bob stood by his side. Dr. Bubblefish slid the x-ray plate in to place and positioned the contraption. "Here we go," he announced, as he stepped back and pressed the button. Sponge Bob watched in fascination. "Alright, all done!" The plate was removed, and Dr. Bubblefish took a moment to examine the results. "Hmm," he murmured, holding the film up to the light. "It seems we have a situation with your wisdom teeth." Plankton's eye bulged with alarm. "Wisdom teeth?" he squeaked. "But I'm a microscopic creature! I don't have room for those!" Dr. Bubblefish nodded solemnly. "Which is why we need to remove now them to prevent any issues." Karen's grip tightened on Plankton's shoulder. "Removal?" Dr. Bubblefish nodded. "It's the best course of action, a common procedure." The doctor led them into his office, walls lined with diplomas. Dr. Bubblefish noticed apprehension and offered a smile. "Now, Mr. Plankton, I know this might be a bit daunting, but I assure you, I'm quite skilled at working. Let's go over details of the procedure, shall we?" Karen's grip tightened more. "You're going to be ok," she whispered. Sponge Bob, the optimist, patted Plankton's arm. "Don't worry, buddy!" Plankton swallowed hard as he sat down in the chair. It was like sitting in a moon crater compared to his usual chair at the Chum Bucket. He gripped the chair's armrests. "But how does it work?" Plankton's voice tight with anxiety. "It's quite simple really. We use anesthesia," he explained, "which will drift off to sleep. You won't feel a thing." "It's like a little nap," Karen offered trying to ease his fears. Dr. Bubblefish nodded. "The anesthesia will make you unconscious for duration of the procedure. It's safe painless way to ensure you don't experience discomfort during extraction." The doctor began preparing. Sponge Bob looks through the window, mix of curiosity and concern. He had never seen anything like this. Plankton's eye pleaded with him for assurance, and Sponge Bob gave him a thumbs up. The chair reclined, and Karen held Plankton's hand tightly. "Ready?" Dr. Bubblefish asked, voice a gentle rumble. Plankton nodded, though his eye shut. Karen squeezed his hand. "You can do this, Plankton," she whispered. The doctor approached with what looked like a pair of tiny tongs. "This will help keep your mouth open," he said, inserting the device into Plankton's mouth. The nurse came over. "This is the anesthesia," she said cheerfully, tentacles flicking the air. "It'll make every thing nice and relaxing." Plankton nodded, his grip tightening. He felt the room spin. "Just breathe," Karen said, the only steady thing in the spinning room. "You're great." Sponge Bob watched as Plankton's eye lid grew heavy, his grip on chair armrests loosening. Dr. Bubblefish nods to the nurse. Plankton took a deep breath, eye shut, body went slack. His grip on the chair arm rests loosened and his breaths grew even. Karen felt a mix of relief and anxiety as the doctor nodded in satisfaction. "And he's out," he murmured. The room was silent except for the occasional blip of medical equipment and sound of Dr. Bubblefish preparing for the extraction. Karen's gaze fixed on Plankton, watching his chest rise and fall with each breath. Sponge Bob leaned in closer, his curiosity piqued. Plankton remained still, lost in his anesthesia-induced slumber. "Sponge Bob, you can wait out side now," Karen said gently never leaving her husband. After surgery, Karen calls Sponge Bob from the waiting room. "He's in recovery now," she says. "You can come see him." Sponge Bob bounces in, eyes wide with excitement. He goes in the room, his curiosity piqued by the sight of Plankton lying peacefully on the chair, his mouth slightly open but without the prop anymore. Plankton's hand lies limp on his own lap. The room remained silent except for the steady beep of the heart monitor and occasional snore from Plankton. "The surgery went well. He'll wake in a bit." Sponge Bob peers closer at Plankton, noticing drool formed at the corner of his mouth. He reaches out and gently strokes Plankton's forehead. "You're ok," he whispers. But Plankton was deep in the abyss of sleep, breathing even and calm. "What's that?" he pointed to a beeping machine. Karen looked over. "That's a monitor," she said softly. "It makes sure everything's ok with Plankton while he's out." The nurse comes in checking vitals. "He's doing great," she says with a nod. "He'll wake up soon." "Wakey, wakey, Plankton," Sponge Bob whispers, a hint of excitement in his voice. He reaches out a finger, gently poking Plankton's arm. No response. Plankton's chest continues to rise and fall rhythmically. Plankton didn't react. "Wow, he's really out," Sponge Bob murmured. "Just don't startle him. He'll wake up groggy." The nurse gently wiped Plankton's mouth with a damp cloth, cleaning away the drool. Plankton's head lolled to the side. "Alright, let's get some gauze," Dr. Bubblefish said, voice interrupting the quiet. Sponge Bob's eyes grew even wider as he watched the nurse carefully fold a piece of white gauze in to a minuscule square. It looked like a tiny cloud in her tentacle. She approached Plankton with the utmost care, as if handling some thing incredibly delicate. With a gentle touch, she inserted gauze into Plankton's mouth, pressing it against his gums. Plankton didn't flinch or stir, his breathing deep and even. The nurse stepped back and gave a satisfied nod. "Alright, he's all set," Dr. Bubblefish said, his voice a comforting rumble. "The gauze will help with any bleeding and keep the area clean." Karen nodded. "Thank you, doctor," she murmured. The room remained silent, except for the steady beep of the heart monitor and the occasional snore from Plankton. "Let's get you sitting up, Mr. Plankton," Dr. Bubblefish instructed as he lifted Plankton's head back up. The chair whirred in to an upright position. After a few moments, Plankton's eye lid began to flutter. He blinked, his vision blurry from anesthesia. He groaned, mouth feeling strange and full. "You're all done!" "Plankton," Karen says, voice soft and warm. Sponge Bob nods eagerly, his eyes never leaving Plankton's face. "How do you feel?" he asks. "Wha..." Plankton mumbles, voice muffled by the gauze. "Wh-where am I?" Karen chuckles. "You're in the dentist's office, Plankton. You had wisdom teeth removed." Sponge Bob's face lights up. "Yeah, buddy, you're all fixed up!" Karen gently helps Plankton sit up, supporting him with an arm around his back. "You're going to feel a bit woozy," she warns. Plankton spots Sponge Bob's grinning face. "Hey, Spongey," he says, his voice still slurred. "Hey, Planky!" Sponge Bob says, smile growing wide. "You're done! No more teeth woes for you!" "W-who's Planky?" Plankton mumbles, voice thick from anesthesia. Sponge Bob laughs, his laugh echoing. "That's you, buddy! Planky, Plankton!" "I survived the tooth monster.." Sponge Bob nods. "Yep, the pesky things in your mouth supposed to make smarter were just causing trouble!" "Troub...troub...tweef?" "Yes, Plankton. Your wisdom teeth are gone." "Miwwow, miwwow, on the wawl," he slurred, wobbly. "Do I wook smarter wi’out my tweef?" Patrick Star was waiting outside the dentist office, his large, star-shaped body leaning against the wall. Patrick Star was waiting outside the dentist's office, his large, star-shaped body leaning against the wall. He had heard that Sponge Bob was escorting Plankton and Karen to the appointment. Once Plankton was discharged, the four crammed into the car. Plankton sat in between Sponge Bob and Patrick, but was too groggy to care. Karen took the wheel, her grip firm. "Alright, let's get you home," she said, starting the engine.

He slurred his words, a side effect of his wisdom tooth surgery. "W-wha...wha' happened?" he mumbled. Karen held his hand, her thumb tracing comforting circles on his palm. "You're ok, just had wisdom teeth removed." Plankton blinked, trying to make sense of the world. "Teeth?" He says through thickness of his mouth. "What teeth?" The nurse then tells "Looks good. Just rest for a bit. The anesthesia can feel loopy." A trickle of drool slid down the side of his mouth. He tried to lift his hand. "H-here," Karen said, gently dabbing at the corner of his mouth. "You're ok. It's normal." Plankton's eye closed, and he leaned into her touch, the world fading to comforting haze. "Don't worry," she whispered, stroking him. "I'm here." Within moments, his breathing grew even, chest rising and falling in gentle rhythm that told her he had succumbed to sleep. His breathing deepened, mouth slightly agape. Karen watched the rise and fall of his chest, the soft snores that punctuated the silence. The steady beep of the heart monitor was an assuring metronome as she waited. A droplet of drool had formed and was slowly making its way to the pillow. The nurse told it might happen. It clung to the edge of his mouth before splattering onto the pillow. His mouth twitched in his sleep, and she wondered if he’s dreaming. The nurse returns with water and ice chips, placing them on the tray. "He'll need these when he wakes," she instructed. "They'd help with the swelling and keep him hydrated." Karen nodded. "How long til he's fully awake?" she asked. "Could be an hour." The only sounds the occasional snore from Plankton. Drool continued to escape, forming a puddle on the pillow. She wiped it. She saw the gauze pads tucked in his cheeks. They looked out of place, despite the sleep medication lulled him to. The door creaked open, and in stumbled SpongeBob. "Plankton! You ok?" he exclaimed. "Shh, he's sleeping," Karen whispers. "They took his wisdom teeth." SpongeBob's eyes widened further. "Wisdom teeth? Gosh, Plankton, sounds painful!" Karen nodded solemnly. "But he's tough. He'll be ok." Plankton stirred in his sleep, a low groan escaping his throat. "Shh," Karen soothed, her voice gentle. "You're ok. Just rest." SpongeBob tiptoed over. "How's he?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "Sleeping it off. The anesthesia wearing off." SpongeBob nods, eyes not leaving Plankton. "What's with gauze?" "Helps with bleeding," Karen explained. "It's normal." SpongeBob's concern palpable. "B-bleeding?" "It's ok," Karen assured him. "Just a precaution. He'll be fine." SpongeBob’s gaze lingers. He gently took Plankton's hand, his own fingers wrapping around his. His grip was firm but gentle, a silent promise to be there. The nurse removes the gauze, leaving his mouth open and vulnerable. Finally, Plankton's eye flutters open, still clouded by the anesthesia. "What...wha's goin' on?" he slurred, voice thick and groggy in confusion. "You had your wisdom teeth out," Karen said. "Mmph," he managed. SpongeBob leans in with concern. "You had a little operation. We’re in the recovery room." Plankton's eye widened slightly, and he tried to sit up, only to be met with dizziness that sent him back. "Mm...Krabby Patty...?" he mumbled. Karen chuckled. "No, aren’t at the Krusty Krab." The reality of the situation slowly dawned on him. His mouth felt like it was filled with cotton. He reached for the cup of water, but his hand trembled, spilling the contents onto the tray. "Oops," SpongeBob said getting napkins. "Let me help you." But Plankton's eye had already rolled back into his head, his hand dropping limply to the side, slipping back into the abyss of his drug-induced haze. The nurse returned, checked his vitals again, expression unchanged by his state. "It's normal as it can take awhile." SpongeBob fidgeted, eyes never leaving Plankton's face. "Is he...drooling?" Karen nodded holding tissue ready. "Just be careful not to wake him up." "Oh, right. I just wanted to make sure he was ok." Karen gave his hand a comforting squeeze. "He is. Just let him rest, we're here for him when he wakes." They sat in companionable silence, only sound the soft snores and occasional dribble. "Is that...normal?" he asked, voice a mix of fascination and horror. "It's a side effect of the surgery," Karen explained gently, using a fresh tissue to wipe Plankton's mouth. "It can stop when he's fully awake." The nurse checked on him again. "Almost ready to go?" Karen nods. "Yes, let's get him home. He might be a bit out of it." SpongeBob nods, eager. "I'll help too!" "Thanks, SpongeBob," Karen said. "But remember, he's going to need lots of rest and quiet. Now, let's get him into the wheelchair." With Karen's help, they managed to get Plankton into the chair, body limply compliant. His eye remained closed, his breathing even. As they wheeled him out, his snores grew quieter. In the car, Karen adjusted the seat so Plankton could lean back, his mouth still a little slack, drool pooling on the gauze she had placed. His mouth remained slightly open, gauze in his cheeks bulging with each inhale. "Look at the drool," SpongeBob whispered. "It's just a side effect of the surgery," she said, handing SpongeBob a fresh tissue. "Make sure to keep his mouth clean. We don't want to get too messy." SpongeBob nodded, expression earnest as he took the tissue and began to dab at Plankton's mouth. Plankton's head lolled to the side again, and he let out a snort. "It's okay, Plankton. We're almost home." she whispered, her voice gentle. Sponge Bob whispered, "I never knew Plankton to be so...so drooly." Karen's eyes remained on the road. "It's a side effect of the surgery," she reminded him. "It's nothing to be too concerned about." Sponge Bob nodded, his gaze lingering on Plankton's slack jaw. "We're home," Karen whispered, her voice barely audible. Sponge Bob nodded, eyes glued to Plankton's still form. "Must we wake him?" "Wait til we get him inside," Karen said, her voice soft. "He'd be more comfortable in his own bed." They carefully maneuvered Plankton out of the car, his body still limp with sleep. Karen settled him into his bed, pulling the blankets up. "Leave him be," she said. "He needs his rest. He'll be ok," Karen assured him. "Just let him sleep it off." "I'll keep an eye on him," Sponge Bob offered, pulling up a chair. "Thanks," she said with gratitude. "I'll just be in the next room." Sponge Bob nodded solemnly, taking his post by Plankton's bedside. He knew Plankton’s surgery had to have been tough on him. He reached out and touched Plankton's arm. "Rest up, Plankton," he whispered. "I'll be here when you wake.." Plankton stirred slightly, a soft groan escaping. His eye remained closed, but his hand twitched. SpongeBob leaned in closer, his heart racing. "You ok, buddy?" he asked. Plankton's eye opens, tongue thick and unresponsive. He tried to speak, but all that came out was slurred mumble. "Wha...wha's...goin' on?" The words were barely discernible, muffled by the gauze in his mouth and the thickness of his own drool. Plankton's trying to make sense of the shadows that surrounded him. "You're home, Plankton," Sponge Bob said softly. "You had your wisdom teeth removed." Plankton's mind raced as the fog of anesthesia slowly lifted. "T-teeth?" he slurred barely above a whisper. SpongeBob nods. "You had your wisdom teeth out. It's ok, you're going to be fine." He sat in the chair by the bed, watching the steady rise and fall of Plankton's chest. The gauze in his mouth was still soaked with drool. As the light outside began to fade, Plankton stirred again, his eye fluttering. The pain in his mouth was a dull throb now, and the drugs had left him feeling groggy and disoriented. He tried to sit up, but the effort was too much. SpongeBob jumped to his side, his hands gentle as he put Plankton back down onto the pillow. "Easy," he said. Plankton's eye searched, the fog of anesthesia still clouding his thoughts. "Sponge...Bob?" he managed to croak out. "I'm here, Plankton," SpongeBob said, his voice filled with gentle concern. Plankton's eye searched SpongeBob's face. "Why...are you...here?" "I'm here to take care of you got wisdom teeth out, remember?" Plankton's mouth felt like it was filled with soggy seaweed, thoughts jumbled. "Wisdom teeth?" he mumbled, his voice barely audible. SpongeBob nods. "The surgery went well." Plankton's gaze grew distant as he tried to piece together the events of the day. "What...what happened?" Sponge Bob took a deep breath, preparing to explain it again. "You had to have your wisdom teeth out. Remember? You've been out of it all day." "My...my teeth?" Plankton repeated, still slurred. Sponge Bob nods solemnly. "They had to take them out." Plankton's eye grew even wider. "My...my...precious..." Sponge Bob gently pushed him back. "It's ok. You don't have to worry. They're gone." Plankton filled with panic. "Gone? How could I forget?" SpongeBob looked at him with a mix of confusion and concern. "It's the medicine," he said, his voice calm. "It messes with your memory a bit." Plankton's eye searched the room again, desperation growing with each passing second. "But...but I can't forget!" he slurred. "I can't forget about the...the...what was it again?" SpongeBob leaned in closer, his voice filled with patience. "Your wisdom teeth. You had them removed." Plankton's mind a jumble of half-formed thoughts. "Wisdom teeth," he murmured, words tasting foreign on his tongue. "Why would I forget something so...so..." His voice trailed off, and he frowned, his tiny brow furrowing. Sponge Bob's gaze was steady and reassuring. "It's normal. I never knew you could be so... drool-y." Plankton shot up. "Drooly?" "Don't worry," SpongeBob said. "It's a temporary side effect." Plankton's eye narrowed, and he managed to slur out, "You better not tell, I'd hate for my reputation to be ruined.." "Don't worry," Sponge Bob promised. "Your secret's safe."

“Ma’am, we’ve finished up with your husband’s wisdom teeth extraction and he’s still asleep but you can come in see.” Doctor Hank spoke calmly as Karen nodded and followed him into the recovery room. Plankton was laid out, mouth still open and a line of drool connecting to the pillow. The nurse was cleaning. Karen felt a love for this odd creature. Plankton’s chest rose and fell with the rhythm of his deep slumber, the gentle snores that escaped him. Karen sat down next to him, reaching out to take his hand. “He’ll be out for a while longer. You can talk to him if you like, sometimes they can hear you even if they don’t respond.” Karen leaned in close to Plankton’s tiny, sleeping form. “Honey, it’s all over. You were so brave. It’s going to be ok.” She squeezed his hand gently, her thumb brushing against his smooth, green skin. Plankton’s snores grew quieter, his breathing evening out as he settled deeper into sleep, but she didn’t mind. This was her time with him. The nurse approached gauze pads. She gently opened Plankton’s mouth further. Karen watched as she placed each pad carefully, pressing down on the bleeding gums. Plankton’s snores hitched for a moment, then resumed their steady rhythm as his head lolled to the side. The nurse guided his head back to the center of the pillow. The drool on the pillow had started to form a tiny puddle, a testament to his deep sleep and numbed mouth. Karen knew Plankton was always so meticulous and here he was, completely vulnerable. The nurse told Karen that Plankton would stay in the recovery room for about another hour before they could go home. Karen nodded, not taking her screen off her husband. Karen continued to watch over him. After a while, Plankton began to stir. His eyelid fluttered open, revealing slit of confusion before slowly widening. He blinked a few times, his eye focusing on Karen. “Hey there, sleepyhead,” she said, forcing a smile. He groaned, his tongue thick and unresponsive in his mouth. The anesthesia was wearing off, leaving him groggy and disoriented. He tried to sit up, but Karen gently pressed him back. “Take it easy, sweetie. You’ve had surgery.” Plankton’s eye searched the room, his gaze lingering. The nurse smiles at his efforts to wake up. “He’s doing fine. Just waking up slowly. You’ll want to make sure he doesn’t try to do anything strenuous today.” Plankton mumbled something unintelligible, his mouth still full of gauze. Karen chuckled. He tried to sit up again, but Karen held him down, stroking his forehead with a cool hand. “I know you hate this, but it’s for the best. It will go away soon, I promise.” His eye opened again, looking up at her with confusion. Plankton’s voice was slurred, like a small child who hadn’t quite learned how to form words properly. “Wha... wha’ happen?” Karen leaned in closer, softening. “You had your wisdom teeth taken out, remember? You’re ok now, you’re just sleepy.” He closed his eye again, slackening into the pillow. “Tiwed,” he mumbled. Karen nods, her hand still on his forehead. The nurse returned. “Can you help him sit up?” Karen gently propped Plankton’s tiny frame against the pillows, his head lolling into her palm. He blinked up at her with a glassy stare, gaze unfocused. He was acting much younger than his usual scheming self. “Thish ish... thith ish... weird,” he slurred. Karen couldn’t help laugh a little at his childlike state. It was a stark contrast to his usual bossy demeanor, curiosity piqued despite drowsiness. The nurse brought water, placing it to his lips. Plankton took a sip. “Ugh, it tathes funny,” he says. Karen laughs. “It’s the medicine, love. It’ll help though, I promise.” Plankton nods, his movements slow and deliberate. He looks around the room again, his eye widening at the sight of the gauze in his mouth. “What’sh aww thish?” Karen explains, her voice gentle. “Those are to help your mouth heal, Plankton. You had some teeth taken out. It’s all part of the process, like putting on a band-aid after getting a boo-boo.” Plankton’s eye narrowed slightly as he took in her words, his brain fighting through the fog of anesthesia. He nods again, his movements still slow and sluggish. “M’kay,” he murmured. The nurse nodded. “Alright, let’s get you ready to go. Karen, can you help get him in the wheelchair?” Karen nods. She gently slid her hand under his shoulders and helped lift him into a sitting position. “I don’t nee thish... I can walk!” he protested, his voice still a slur. Karen chuckled, warmed by his usual stubbornness. “You might be a little wobbly, let’s just be safe, ok?” The nurse positioned the wheelchair by the bed, and managed to get him into it. His legs swung over the side, not quite reaching the footrests. The ride through the hospital, with Plankton fought to stay awake. Karen pushed the wheelchair, darting between his sleepy form and the path ahead. The fish and other creatures of Bikini Bottom waving as they went. Plankton’s eye followed them, a hint of wonder in his gaze. “Wook ah aww the fishies,” he mumbled, his voice thick. “They’re always out and about, honey. You’ve seen them before.” He nodded, his eye half-closed. “But not fwom here... not fwom thith... fishy chair!” He giggled to himself, his laughter echoing through the corridor. The nurse gave an amused look, shaking her head. “It’s the anesthesia talking. He’ll be back to his usual self in no time.” They arrived at the discharge desk. Plankton’s eye closed now, his snores gentle and even. He was looking more like a child than the mad scientist who had plotted to steal the Krabby Patty countless times. The nurse handed Karen a list of instructions. Plankton stirred slightly, his eye opening briefly. “Thish ish... thith ish... boring!” he complained before dozing off again. The nurse finished and wished them a good day, patting Plankton’s arm as if to assure that it was all over. Karen leaned down and kissed his forehead, whispering, “Thank you for being so brave, my love. Let’s get you out of the chair and into our car.” With Karen’s help, Plankton shuffled to the edge of the chair, his tiny feet dangling over. He looked up at her with a sleepy eye. She bent down and picked him up, his body slightly heavier than she expected. She opens the car door. He leaned into her, his head nuzzling into her neck. “Warish...” he murmured, his voice muffled. Karen chuckled. She knew he was still recovering from the surgery. She placed him in the car, his head lolling to the side as he tried to keep his eye open. “I’ve got you, don’t worry,” she said, buckling him in. He leaned back in the seat, his eyelid drooping heavily. Karen tucked a blanket around him, his tiny frame looking lost in the vastness of the car. As she drove, Plankton’s snores filled the car, punctuating the silence with a gentle, comforting noise. Karen felt a strange mix of amusement and love for the man she had married all those years ago. The Plankton she knew was sharp and cunning, unlike this sleepy creature that had moments of lucidity followed by more snores. The ride home was uneventful, his snores the only sound as the car glided through the water. When they arrived at the Chum Bucket, Plankton’s eye snapped open, looking around in confusion. Karen parked and turned to him with a soft smile. “We’re home, darling.” He blinked a few times, looking at the familiar surroundings with a child’s curiosity. “Hone?” he asked, his voice still slurred. Karen nodded, helping him out of the car and onto his feet. He stumbled slightly, legs still wobbly from the anesthesia. Karen stood by his side, her hand supporting his arm as he took unsteady steps to their bedroom. His eye kept drifting shut, his body begging for the comfort of his bed, the tension in his shoulders as he fought to stay awake. “Almost there, Plankton,” she encouraged. Plankton leaned against her as they approached the bed. She laid him down. He moaned in relief, eye closing instantly. The nurse’s instructions echoed in her mind as she pulled back the blankets; this was a side of Plankton she rarely saw. He was vulnerable, like a baby sea creature lost in the vast ocean. She felt a newfound protectiveness for him, a desire to keep him safe and warm. “Youw the bestest wife, Karen. The besht in aww of Bikini Bottom!” He said with a sleepy smile, his eye fluttering shut once more. He rolled over onto his side, his back to her, his breathing evening out into deep, peaceful snores. Karen couldn’t resist the urge to kiss the back of his head, the spot where his antennae met his skull. She pulled the blankets up around him, making sure he was tucked in tight. The room was quiet except for his snores. Karen sat on the edge of the bed, watching. The love she felt was palpable, filling the space between them. Plankton’s hand reached out from under the blankets, his fingers brushing against hers. It was a silent plea for comfort, and she didn’t hesitate to take it. Her metaphorical heart melted at his childlike gesture, and she intertwined their fingers, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. He shifted closer. She felt the tension in his shoulders ease, his snores growing slower, deeper. Karen sat with him, watching the rise and fall of his chest. “You know what, Plankton?” she whispered, her voice filled with love. “You’re pretty cute when you’re all sleepy like this. Not that you’re not cute normally, but it’s just... different..” He giggled. Karen couldn’t help smile at his reaction. “I’m not cute, I’m... I’m...” He trailed off, his words slurring into a snore as sleep claimed him once more. She leaned in to kiss him gently on the cheek. Karen knew he’d be embarrassed when he woke up and realized he’d missed a day of scheming, but for now, he was safe and she was grateful. She stood up, smoothing the blankets over him one last time. “Rest well, my love. I’ll be right here if you need anything,” she whispers, her voice a gentle caress.

A JOURNEY TO AUTISM i (Autistic author) "I've waited long enough, I better go check..." Karen says to herself. Sheldon Plankton, her husband, left earlier to attempt to steal a krabby patty but he hasn't returned. Worried, she makes her way to the restaurant across the street. Meanwhile, Mr. Krabs grabbed a fry pan and swung it at Plankton. The sound of metal hitting flesh echoed through the restaurant, and Plankton crumpled to the ground. Mr. Krabs, his eyes bulging with triumph, looked down at the tiny, unconscious form of his arch-nemesis. "Gotcha, ya tiny troublemaker!" he cackled, waving the fry pan above his head like a trophy. The Krabby Patty recipe remained safe, but Plankton's not. Karen heard the thud from the hit and went in. Her heart skipped a beat as she saw Plankton sprawled out on the floor, unmoving. She rushed over. "Plankton!" Karen gasped, her voice trembling with fear as she knelt beside his tiny frame. He was out cold. She gently touched his arm, hoping for a response, but there was none. The fry pan lay a few inches from his crumpled body, a silent testament to the battle that had just taken place. The restaurant's usual chaos was replaced with a tense silence that seemed to thicken the air. Mr. Krabs, still clutching the pan, looked at Karen with a mix of pride and wariness. His victory over Plankton was clear, but he knew that this wasn't the end of the feud between them. Karen's eyes filled with tears as she picked up her husband, cradling his tiny body in her palm. His antennas were limp, and his single eye was closed. She clutched him tightly, desperately. "Wake up, Plankton," she whispered, her voice filled with urgency as she lightly shook. But Plankton remained unresponsive, his tiny body as lifeless as the seaweed that clung to the ocean floor. A cold fear gripped Karen's heart, turning her blood to ice. She had seen her husband in many predicaments, but never like this. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she gently cradled him, his normally active form now still and heavy in her hand. The Krabby Patty recipe was the last thing on her mind; all she could think about was Plankton and the love they shared. The warmth of his body was fading, and with it, her hope. "I'm sorry," Mr. Krabs said. "This is just business." Karen's gaze snapped up, anger replacing fear. "This isn't just business, it's personal!" she exclaimed, her voice echoing through the restaurant. "You can't keep doing this to him!" Mr. Krabs took a step back, his claws clutching the fry pan tighter. "I didn't mean for it to go this far," he mumbled, his proud stance wavering. Ignoring his words, Karen rushed to the door, cradling Plankton in her hand. She had to get him to the hospital. The local doctor was known to help all creatures, regardless of their intentions. The Bikini Bottom Hospital was the only place she could think of. The emergency room was a flurry of activity, with fish and crustaceans of all shapes and sizes waiting for their turn. The bright, sterile lights reflected off the polished floors, and the smell of disinfectant stung her nostrils as she raced in. She didn't care about the stares or the whispers that followed them; all she cared about was getting Plankton the help he needed. The receptionist, a sluggish sea star, barely looked up from her crossword puzzle. "Name?" she drawled. "Plankton," Karen replied, her voice shaking with urgency. "He's been attacked." The sea star's eyes widened, and she dropped her pencil. "Oh my!" she exclaimed before hitting a large, red button that read "Emergency." Immediately, the doors to the back swung open, and a team of medical professionals rushed out. The doctor, a stern-looking octopus named Dr. Manowar, took Plankton from Karen's trembling hand. "What happened?" he asks, tentacles moving swiftly to check for vitals. "Mr. Krabs...he hit him with a fry pan," Karen managed to say between sobs. The doctor's expression softened, his tentacles moving more gently. "Bring him to room three, we'll take care of him," he instructed the nurse, a concerned look crossing his face as he examined the unconscious Plankton. Karen followed closely, her heart racing as the medical team whisked Plankton away into the depths of the hospital. The stark white walls and the beeping of machines filled her with dread, but she held onto the hope that Dr. Manowar could save him. The doctor's tentacles worked swiftly, hooking up monitors and administering a series of tests. Karen watched, her own breaths synchronizing with the rhythmic beeps. The hospital room was small, the walls lined with various medical instruments. The sterile smell was overpowering, but she focused on Plankton, willing his tiny body to stir. Dr. Manowar muttered under his breath, his expression a mask of concentration. "Karen," he said, turning to face her, his tentacles stilled. "I need to run some more tests, but it doesn't look good. Your husband has a severe concussion and potential internal damage." Her heart dropped, and she felt like the ocean had swallowed her whole. "What...what can you do?" she asked, desperation clinging to every word. The doctor's expression remained steady, his eyes never leaving hers. "We'll do everything we can. But you should prepare for the worst." Karen felt a wave of nausea wash over her. She couldn't lose Plankton. He was her partner in crime, her confidant, her soulmate. "No," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "You can't give up on him." The doctor nodded gravely. "I understand how you feel, but we must be realistic. Let's give him some time." The nurse led Karen to a small waiting area outside the room, where she slumped into a chair. The clock on the wall ticked away the minutes, each second feeling like an eternity. The muffled sounds of the hospital - the beeping machines, the rush of footsteps, the hushed whispers - only served to amplify the deafening silence in her heart. "Your husband is a miracle. The tests came back, and his injuries are less severe than we initially thought." Karen's eyes widened in disbelief, then flooded with relief. "What does that mean?" Dr. Manowar's tentacles unfurled as he spoke. "It means we can treat his injuries, but he'll need to rest for some time. However, during our examination, we noticed some unusual patterns in his behavior and brain activity." Karen felt a sudden knot in her stomach. "What do you mean?" "It seems that during the impact, Plankton's brain has undergone a significant change. He's showing symptoms consistent with a condition known as acquired Autism." Dr. Manowar explained, his tentacles folding into a comforting gesture. Karen felt the world spin around her. "Autism?" she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. "What does that mean for him?" Dr. Manowar sighed, his tentacles waving gently. "It means his interactions and responses to his environment may be different now. It's permanently irreversible but you can help by creating a calm environment." Karen nodded, trying to digest the information. "What can I do?" Her voice was small, trembling. The doctor's eyes softened. "Give him space, patience, and support. It'll be a journey of learning for both of you." The doctor's words hung in the air like a fog, thick and impenetrable. Karen felt a weight settle in her chest, heavier than any she had ever known. The thought of Plankton being different, of not knowing how to communicate with the person she loved most, was almost too much to bear. But she swallowed her fear and nodded, determined to do whatever it took to help him. "Thank you, Dr. Manowar," she whispered, her voice hoarse with emotion. "We'll get through this." The doctor nodded solemnly before excusing himself to attend to other patients. Karen was left alone with her thoughts, the beeping of the machines the only company. She took Plankton's hand in hers, feeling the coolness of his skin against her own. "Plankton," she whispered, her voice shaking. "You're going to be okay." She wasn't sure if he could hear her, but she needed to say it. To believe it. To feel the words in the air between them. "I know you can't understand me right now," she continued, her voice barely above the steady beep of the monitors. "But I'm here. And I'll always be here for you." Her eyes searched the room for anything that might bring comfort, but all she found was the cold reality of hospital life. "When you wake up," she whispered, squeezing his hand slightly, "things might be different. But that's okay. We'll figure it out together." The words sounded hollow in the small, sterile room, but she hoped they would reach him somehow. As the hours passed, Karen's mind raced with questions. How would this change their lives? Could they still scheme together? Would he even remember their love for each other? She pushed the thoughts aside, focusing instead on the gentle rise and fall of his chest, a sign that he was still fighting. Suddenly, Plankton's single eye flitted open, looking around the room with a dazed expression. "Karen?" he croaked, his voice weak and unsteady. "Plankton!" she exclaimed, her voice a mix of relief and hope. He was awake! "I'm here, my love."

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KAREN HAS A LESSON pt. 3 (Autistic author) KAREN HAS A LESSON pt. 3 (Autistic author) "Sorry," Plankton says, his tone still flat. "Plankton, sorry. Plankton's brain different now. Difficult for Karen?" Karen shakes her head, tears welling in her eyes. "No, Plankton, you're still you," she says, trying to smile. "I just wanted to understand." Plankton nods, his gaze returning to the brain scan. "Understanding important," he says. "Plankton still loves Karen. Just different now. Permanent." Karen breaks at his words, but she knows he's trying. They sit in silence for a few moments, each lost in their own thoughts. Finally, Karen takes a deep breath. "I love you, Plankton," she says, her voice steady. "And I'll always be here for you, no matter what." Plankton nods, his expression unchanged. "Karen love Plankton," he responds. "Plankton love Karen." They sit together on the couch, the silence between them heavy with the weight of their new reality. Karen tries to find comfort in the familiar rhythm of his words, but it's like hugging a statue. There's no warmth, no give. But she can tell by the look in his eye that it's present. "Plankton," she says softly, her voice trembling slightly. "Do you want to go to the anniversary dinner?" He pauses, his gaze unwavering from the brain scan. "Anniversary dinner," he repeats, as if tasting the words. Then, with a sudden nod, "Plankton will accompany Karen." Karen swells with hope. Maybe this wasn't the end of their connection. Maybe they could find a new way to be together. "But Plankton," she says, her voice tentative. "I need you to be comfortable. If going out is too much for you, we can do something else." Plankton's antennae twitch, his face contemplative. "Understood," he says after a moment. "Home dinner preferred. Less stimulating." Karen nods, feeling a weight lift slightly from her chest. "Okay," she says, swiping at a stray tear. "We can have dinner here. I'll make your favorite." Plankton's antennae perk up at the mention of food. "Karen cook?" he asks, his voice betraying a hint of excitement. Karen smiles, relieved at his interest. "Yes, I'll cook," she says. "How about some Chum?" Plankton nods eagerly. "Chum. Yes." Karen rises from the couch, determined to make the best of the situation. She heads to the kitchen, her mind racing with ideas for a simple yet delicious meal that would be easy on his senses. She chooses a recipe that doesn't have too many ingredients or smells that might overwhelm him. As she starts cooking, Plankton watches her with his newfound detachment, his eye following her movements with a clinical interest. It's as if he's studying her, trying to understand her actions. "Plankton," Karen says, trying to engage him, "can you help me set the table?" Plankton nods, his movements mechanical as he rises from the couch. He takes the plates and utensils she hands him and arranges them with meticulous precision. Each item is placed exactly 1.5 centimeters apart, the forks and knives aligned at a perfect right angle. It's something she's never noticed him do before, but it's a part of him now. As she stirs the pot of simmering chum, she glances over at him, his single eye focused intently on the task at hand. She wipes a tear from her eye, her heart heavy. But she can't dwell on the sadness. They have a life to live, and they'll figure this out together. "Plankton," she calls out, trying to keep her voice light. "Could you please grab the napkins?" He nods and heads to the drawer, his steps measured and deliberate. When he returns, he doesn't hand them to her but instead counts them out loud. "One, two." He holds up both napkins, one for each place setting. "Is this correct?" Karen nods, her smile tight. "Yes, thank you." She tries not to let the sadness seep into her voice. This was their new norm, a dance of understanding and patience that they were still learning. As they sit down to eat, Karen notices that Plankton doesn't touch his food until she does. "You don't have to wait for me," she says gently, trying to ease into their new routine. "You can start whenever you're ready." Plankton nods, his movements precise and deliberate as he takes his first bite. Karen watches him carefully, noticing that he's chewing his food much slower than normal. She wonders if it's because his sensory input has changed or if it's just part of the neurodivergence. They eat in silence, the only sound being the occasional clink of their utensils and the bubbling of the chum. Karen tries to think of something to say, something that won't cause him discomfort or confusion. But her mind is a whirlwind of questions and fears. "Plankton," she says tentatively, "Do you like the chum?" He nods, his movements methodical. "Chum. Yes. Good." His voice is still flat, but she can see the faintest glimmer of satisfaction in his eye. They continue their meal, Karen forcing down bites while her mind spins with a whirlwind of emotions. Fear, sadness, hope, and love all intermingling in a tumultuous storm. "Plankton," she says, her voice soft and tentative. "What are you thinking about?" He looks up from his plate, his eye focusing on her for a moment before returning to his food. "Thinking," he says, his voice monotone. "Plankton thinking about Karen. And Plankton with Karen." Karen aches at his response, but she tries to keep her expression neutral. "Do you like spending time with me?" she asks, desperation tingeing her voice. Plankton pauses, his eye flicking up to meet hers. "Plankton enjoys Karen's company." Karen clenches at his words, so devoid of the warmth they once held. But she knows she has to be patient, to give him space to navigate this new world. "Do you enjoy talking to me, Plankton?" He considers this for a moment before nodding. "Talking is good. Plankton learns things. Plankton feels safe." Karen feels a tear roll down her screen. "That's all I want," she whispers, reaching out to squeeze his hand. His grip is firm, but there's no warmth in it. It's as if he's trying to mimic the physical cue of comfort without understanding the emotional connection. "Karen crying sad?" He asks retreating his hand. "I'm sorry," she says, her voice cracking. "I didn't mean to hurt you earlier. I just wanted to spend our anniversary together." Plankton nods, his expression unreadable. "Understood," he says. "Anniversary. Special."

ᶠʳᵃᵗᵉʳⁿⁱˢᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ final Pt. 6 finale “ᴮᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿ ⁱᵗ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ, ᴾⁱⁿᵏʸ!” “ᴵ ᵖʳᵒᵐⁱˢᵉ!” ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ⁿᵉʳᵛᵒᵘˢ‧ ᴶᵘˢᵗ ᵗʰᵉⁿ, ᵃⁿᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵏⁿᵒᶜᵏ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ‧ “ᴺᵒʷ ʷʰᵃᵗ?” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢⁱᵍʰᵉᵈ, ᵒᵖᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ ᵗᵒ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧ “ᴵ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵃˢ ᶠᵃˢᵗ ᵃˢ ᴵ ᵖᵒˢˢⁱᵇˡʸ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ ᵉᵃʳˡⁱᵉʳ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵉˡˡ ᵐᵉ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʰᵘʳᵗ…” “ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ, ʸᵒᵘ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ’ᵗ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵉᵃʳˡʸ…” “ᴵ ʷᵃˢ ᵖˡᵃⁿⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ˡᵉᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵉᵃʳˡⁱᵉʳ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ‧” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵉˣᵖˡᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ‧ “ᴵ’ˡˡ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵒᵐᵉ ˢᵒ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ᶜᵃⁿ ʳᵉˢᵘᵐᵉ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᵈᵃⁱˡʸ ᵃᶜᵗⁱᵛⁱᵗⁱᵉˢ…” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ The End

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

‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

ᴸⁱᵃʳ ᴸⁱᵃʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏ'ˢ ᵒⁿ ᶠⁱʳᵉ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ "ᴾᵉʳʰᵃᵖˢ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʲᵉˡˡʸ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵈʳⁱᵛᵉ ᶜᵘˢᵗᵒᵐᵉʳˢ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵉᵃʳˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ ⁱⁿ ʲᵉˡˡʸᶠⁱˢʰ ᶠⁱᵉˡᵈˢ⸴ ʷʰᵉⁿ ˢᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿˡʸ⸴ ᵃ ˢᵗᵒʳᵐ ᶜˡᵒᵘᵈ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ‧ ᴸⁱᵍʰᵗⁿⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿˡʸ ˢᵗʳⁱᵏᵉˢ ᵃ ᵈʸⁱⁿᵍ ᶜᵒʳᵃˡ ᵗʳᵉᵉ⸴ ᶜᵃᵗᶜʰⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᵗ ᵒⁿ ᶠⁱʳᵉ‧ ᴵᵗ ˢᵖʳᵉᵃᵈ ʳᵃᵖⁱᵈˡʸ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒʷ ˢᵘʳʳᵒᵘⁿᵈᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠˡᵃᵐᵉˢ⸴ ʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʰᵒᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ʷⁱˡᵈ ᶠⁱʳᵉ ᶜᵃᵘˢᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵈⁱᶠᶠⁱᶜᵘˡᵗʸ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵖʳᵒᵖᵉʳˡʸ‧ ᵁⁿᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵉˢᶜᵃᵖᵉ ᶠˡᵃᵐᵉˢ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ⁿᵒʷ ᵒᵛᵉʳʷʰᵉˡᵐᵉᵈ⸴ ˢᵒ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᶠᵃⁱⁿᵗᵉᵈ/ᵖᵃˢˢᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ ᴸᵘᶜᵏⁱˡʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠⁱʳᵉ ᵈⁱᵉᵈ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵘⁿᶠᵒʳᵗᵘⁿᵃᵗᵉˡʸ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ʳᵉⁿᵈᵉʳᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵘⁿᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵃⁿ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠˡᵃᵐᵉˢ ᵇʸ ʲᵘᵐᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᶜᵒᵒᵖ ʰⁱᵐ ᵘᵖ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈˢ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵘⁿˢ⸴ ᵖᵘˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠⁱʳᵉ‧ ᴰᵉˢᵖⁱᵗᵉ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʳᵉᵐᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡⁱᵐᵖˡʸ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵇᵘʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʸˢ‧ ᴴᵉ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵒᵈʸ ᶜᵃⁿ ᶜᵒᵒˡ ᵈᵒʷⁿ‧ "ᴵ⁻ᴵ⁻ᴵ'ᵐ ˢ⁻ˢᵒʳʳʸ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʸˢ‧ ᴺᵒʷ ᵃᵗ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵖⁱⁿᵉᵃᵖᵖˡᵉ ʳᵉˢⁱᵈᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶠⁱˡˡᵉᵈ ᵃ ᵇᵒʷˡ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵒˡᵈ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵒᵒˡ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵈᵒʷⁿ‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵒᵈʸ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗˢ ᵗᵒ ˢⁱⁿᵏ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃᵘᵍʰᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵒ ᵃˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢˡⁱᵖ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳ‧ ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ʳⁱⁿˢⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗˡʸ ᵈʳⁱᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒᶠᶠ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ᵗʰⁱⁿ ᵗᵒʷᵉˡ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᶠᵒʳᵉʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵃˢ ᵗᵉᵐᵖᵉʳᵃᵗᵘʳᵉ‧ ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃʳᵐ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵃˢ ʰᵒᵗ ᵃˢ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ˢᵘᶠᶠᵉʳ ˢʰᵒᶜᵏ ˢᵒ ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈᵉᵈ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿˢᵗ ᵈⁱʳᵉᶜᵗˡʸ ᵖᵘᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᶜᵉ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᵃ ⁿⁱᶜᵉ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱˢ ᵖⁱˡˡᵒʷ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵐᵒˢᵗ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗᵃᵇˡᵉ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᶠᵃⁿ ᵒⁿ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗᵒ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᴿᵘᵇⁱᵏ'ˢ ᶜᵘᵇᵉ⸴ ʷᵒʳᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵗ ⁱᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱⁿᵃˡˡʸ ʳᵉᵍᵃⁱⁿ ᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢⁿᵉˢˢ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‽" "ᵁᵍʰʰʰ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᶠˡᵘᵗᵗᵉʳˢ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ‧ "ᵂᵘʰ? ᵂʰᵃᵃ⁻ ʷʰᵃ’ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃᵐ ᴵ?" ᴴᵉ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵃˢ ʰᵉᵃᵗ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵐᵒᵏᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵒ ᴵ ᵇʳᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵃᶠᵉ‧" "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮ⁻⁻ ʷʰ⁻ʷʰᵃ⁻ʰᵘʰ?" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵍʳᵒᵍᵍʸ‧ "ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ʷᵒʳᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ᵐʸ ᴿᵘᵇⁱᵏ'ˢ ᶜᵘᵇᵉ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢⁱᵗ ᵘᵖ?" ᴴᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵏᵉᵉⁿ ᵒⁿ ᵗᵒᵘᶜʰ‧ "ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ˡᵉᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿˢᵗ‧‧‧" "ᶠⁱⁿᵉ‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵖᵘᵗ ᵃⁿᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵖⁱˡˡᵒʷ ᵇᵉʰⁱⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ˢᵘᵖᵖᵒʳᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ˡᵉᵃⁿ‧ "ᴿᵉᵃᵈʸ?" ᴴᵉ ˢᶜᵒᵒᵗˢ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢⁱᵗˢ ʰⁱᵐ ᵘᵖ ᵇʸ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʷᵃʳᵐ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ; ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵍᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵉᵗᵘʳⁿˢ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᶠʳᵉˢʰ ᵈʳⁱⁿᵏ‧ "ᴵ ᵖᵘᵗ ⁱᶜᵉ ⁱⁿ ⁱᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ˢᵗʳᵃʷ‧" ᴴᵉ ˢᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ ᵈᵒʷⁿ‧ "ᵀᵃˢᵗᵉˢ ʳᵉᶠʳᵉˢʰⁱⁿᵍ‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉᵈ‧ "ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˢᵒˡᵛᵉ ᵃ ᴿᵘᵇⁱᵏ'ˢ ᶜᵘᵇᵉ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵃ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᵒʳ ᵍᵒ ᵃᵗ ⁱᵗ‧" "ᴵ'ᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ⁱᵗ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵒʷ‧‧" "ᴵ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ˢᵗᵒʳᵐⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵘᵗ ˢᵒ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵇᵉ ˢᵗᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐᵉ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ‧" "ᵂʰʸ ᵈᵒ ᴵ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ˢʷᵉᵃᵗʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵉᵃᵏ?" "ᵂᵉˡˡ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ᶠⁱʳᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵒⁿˡʸ ʲᵘˢᵗ ⁿᵒʷ ᶜᵒᵒˡᵉᵈ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵏᵉ‧‧" "ᴵ ʷᵃˢ ⁱⁿ ʲᵉˡˡʸᶠⁱˢʰ ᶠⁱᵉˡᵈˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃ ᶜᵒʳᵃˡ ᵗʳᵉᵉ ᶜᵃᵘᵍʰᵗ ᶠⁱʳᵉ⸴ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ˢᵘʳʳᵒᵘⁿᵈᵉᵈ ᵐᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᴵ'ᵈ ᵐᵉˡᵗ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ‧ "ᴮᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵐᵘˢᵗ'ᵛᵉ ˢᵃᵛᵉᵈ ᵐᵉ ᴵ ᵃˢˢᵘᵐᵉ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ⁿᵒʷ ᴵ'ᵐ ᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ˢᵒ⸴ ᵗʰᵃ⁻ ᵘʰ⸴ ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸ⁻ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧" "ᴵ'ᵐ ᵍˡᵃᵈ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᴵ ᵃᵖᵒˡᵒᵍⁱˢᵉ ᶠᵒʳ‧‧‧" "ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ⸴ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠᵃᵘˡᵗ‧ ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉⁿ'ᵗ ᵉⁿᵉʳᵍʸ‧" "ᵂᵉˡˡ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ˡᵃᵗᵉ‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵉᵗˢ ᵃ ʷᵃˢʰ ᶜˡᵒᵗʰ ᵗᵒ ᵖᵘᵗ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵇʸ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵗᵘʳⁿˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵃˡᵃʳᵐ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵐᵒᵛᵉˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ ᵒᵛᵉʳ‧ "ᴵ ᵖᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜˡᵒᵗʰ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠʳᵉᵉᶻᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᶜᵒˡᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵇᵉ‧‧‧" "ᴵ'ᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵘʳᵉ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵇʸ ᵐʸˢᵉˡᶠ‧‧" "ᶜᵃⁿ ᴵ ˡⁱᶠᵗ ʸᵒᵘ?" "ᴶᵘˢᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃˢʰ ᶜˡᵒᵗʰ ᴵ ᵍᵘᵉˢˢ ˢᵘʳᵉ‧" ᴴᵉ ˢᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ˢᵘᵖⁱⁿᵉ‧ "ᶠᵉᵉˡˢ ˢᵒ ⁿⁱᶜᵉ ᵏⁱᵈ‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵐᵉ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ‧" ᴴᵉ ᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵒᶠᶠ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵉʸᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒ ˡᵒⁿᵍᵉʳ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ‧ "ᴳᵒᵒᵈ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵒᵖᵉˢ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵇʸ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ‧ "ᴬˡˡ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ?" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷʰⁱˢᵖᵉʳˢ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜˡᵒᵗʰ⸴ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ʳᵉˢᵗᶠᵘˡ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˡᵘʳᶜʰᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷʰᵒ ⁿᵒʷ ˢⁿᵒʳᵉᵈ‧ 'ᴿᵃⁱⁿⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᵖᵒᵘʳⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ˢⁿᵒʳⁱⁿᵍ‧‧' ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉ‧ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 𝟔𝟓𝟎

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."

ᶠᵃᵏᵉˢ ⁱᵗ ˢᵒ ʰᵉ ᵐᵃᵏᵉˢ ⁱᵗ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᵂʰⁱˡˢᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ᵒⁿ ᵃ ᵗʳⁱᵖ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰᵉʳ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ᴴᵃⁿⁿᵃ⸴ ʰᵉ ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵉⁿᵃᶜᵗ ᵃ ᵖˡᵃⁿ‧ 'ᴵᶠ ᴵ ᶠᵃᵏᵉ ᵐʸ ᵈᵉᵃᵗʰ⸴ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵃˡˢᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʰᵒʷ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ʳᵉᵃᶜᵗ!' ᔆᵒ ⁿᵒʷ ʰᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᶠⁱᵍᵘʳᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ʰᵒʷ ᵗᵒ ᵖᵘˡˡ ⁱᵗ ᵃˡˡ ᵒᶠᶠ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᵃ ʳᵒᵇᵒᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ᵐᵉᵗᵃˡ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʳᵘᵇᵇᵉʳ ᵖᵃʳᵗˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ˡⁱᑫᵘⁱᵈ ᵗʸᵖᵉ ᵃˡˡᵒⁱᵈ‧ ᴴᵉ ᶜᵒⁿᵗʳᵒˡˢ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵇᵒᵗ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʳᵉᵐᵒᵗᵉ ˢᵉⁿᵈˢ ⁱᵗ ᵒᶠᶠ‧ "ᴵ'ᵈ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵉᵃᵏ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵐᵃⁿᵃᵍᵉʳ!" ᔆᵃʸˢ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵇᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵍᵉᵗˢ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ‧ "ᴼʰ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵐᵃᵏᵉˢ ʰⁱˢ ʳᵒᵇᵒᵗ ʳᵘⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᶠᵉᵗʸ ᵛᵃᵘˡᵗ ʰᵒˢᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ˡⁱˢᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵏʳᵃᵇᵇʸ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ‧ ᵀʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ʰⁱˢ ᵉⁿᵉᵐʸ ᵃⁿᵍʳʸ⸴ ʰᵉ ˢʰʳᵉᵈᵈᵉᵈ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵒᶠ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵐᵒⁿᵉʸ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ˢᵒ ᵈᵒⁿᵉ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵉᵉˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵒˢˢ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵃ ᵏⁱᵗᶜʰᵉⁿ ᵏⁿⁱᶠᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖʳᵒᶜᵉᵉᵈˢ ᵗᵒ ᵘˢᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵃᵏᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʳᵒᵇᵒᵗ‧ ᴬˢ ᵉˣᵖᵉᶜᵗᵉᵈ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠⁱᵍᵘʳᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ 'ᵇˡᵉᵉᵈ' ᵇᵘᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʳᵉᵈ ᵈʸᵉ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ⸴ ᵘˢᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᵐᵘˢᶜˡᵉˢ⸴ ˢʰᵒʷᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ⁱᶠ ᵃᶜᵗᵘᵃˡ ᶠˡᵉˢʰ‧ ᴬⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ʰⁱˢ ʳᵒᵇᵒᵗ ˢᵃʸ ˡᵃˢᵗ ʷᵒʳᵈˢ‧ "ᵀʰᵉ ᵏⁿⁱᶠᵉ⸴ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵐᵉ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ʳᵒᵇᵒᵗ ᵐᵃⁿᵃᵍᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵈⁱˢˡᵒᵈᵍᵉ ⁱᵗ⸴ ᶜᵃᵘˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵈᵃᵐᵃᵍᵉ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ˢʰᵃʳᵖ ᵏⁿⁱᶠᵉ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᵈᵉᵉᵖᵉʳ ⁱⁿ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵇᵒᵗ‧ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ˢᵖⁱˡᵗ ᵃˢ ʰⁱˢ ʳᵒᵇᵒᵗ ˡᵒˢᵗ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᶠᵒᵒᵈ ᶜᵒˡᵒᵘʳⁱⁿᵍ ʳᵉᵈ ˡⁱᑫᵘⁱᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶜᵘᵗ ⁱⁿ ʰᵃˡᶠ ᵗᵒ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵒᵇᵛⁱᵒᵘˢˡʸ ᵏⁱˡˡᵉᵈ‧ ᴴᵉ ᶜᵒᵛᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵒᵘⁿᵈ ʳᵉᶜᵉᵖᵗᵒʳ ⁱⁿ ⁿᵒᵒᵈˡᵉˢ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵃˢ ᵃ ᵇʳᵃⁱⁿ⸴ ˢᵒ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ʰᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉᵐ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵃʸˢ ⁿᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ; ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵍᵒⁿᵉ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶠⁱⁿᵃˡˡʸ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ "ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʰᵒʷ ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵉˡᵉᵇʳᵃᵗᵉ ᵖʳᵉᵐᵃᵗᵘʳᵉˡʸ⸴ ᵃˢ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ʰᵉ ᵖʳᵉᵗᵉⁿᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵗⁱʳᵉ ʸᵉᵗ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵃ ˢᵗᵉᵖ ᵃʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱᵐ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ʳᵉᵗⁱʳᵉᵐᵉⁿᵗ ᵖˡᵃⁿ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒʷ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃⁱʳ ᵈᵘᶜᵗ ᵛᵉⁿᵗ ᵖⁱᵖᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ˢᵉᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵗᵃʸ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃʸ ᵒᶠ ˢⁱᵍʰᵗ‧ ᔆᵘʳᵉ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ⸴ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ʳᵘⁿⁿⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵉᵉᵐᵉᵈ ᶜᵃˡᵐ⸴ ᵒʳ ᵃᵗ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵃʳᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ "ᵂʰʸ ᵃʳᵉ ʸᵉ ˢᵒ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ ᵇᵒʸ?" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ˢᵘᶜᶜᵉˢˢ ⁿᵒʳ ʰᵃᵖᵖⁱⁿᵉˢˢ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ˢᵗᵉᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ᵃⁿʸ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ ⁱʳʳⁱᵗᵃᵗᵉᵈ‧ ᴬⁿᵈ ⁿᵒʷ⸴ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵈᵉᵃᵈ‧ ᴴᵉ ᴰⁱᵉᵈ! ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʲᵘˢᵗ⸴ ʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵉˢⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʰᵒʷ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᴵ ᶜᵃʳᵉ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʰⁱᵐ⸴ ᵈᵉˢᵖⁱᵗᵉ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ‧‧‧" "ᑫᵘⁱᵉᵗ! ᴴᵉ'ˢ ᵍᵒⁿᵉ ⁿᵒʷ⸴ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ⁱˢ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᵘˢ‧‧‧" "ᶠᵒʳ ᵘˢ? ᵂʰᵃᵗ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵖᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵇᵒᵗ ᵈᵒʷⁿ‧ "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵉᵃʳ ᵐᵉ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵐʸ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ‧ ᴵ'ᵈ ᵈᵒ ᵃⁿʸ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵖᵘᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃʸ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ!" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗˢ‧ "ᵂᵉ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᶜᵃʳᵉ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʰⁱᵐ! ᴴᵉ ᵈᵒᵉˢⁿ'ᵗ ᵈᵉˢᵉʳᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ‧‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵈᵉˢᵉʳᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵏⁱˡˡᵉᵈ! ᴴᵉ ᵘˢᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ? ᴮᵘᵗ ⁿᵒʷ⸴ ᵍʳᵉᵉᵈ ᶜᵒⁿˢᵘᵐᵉᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃˢ ᵖᵒʷᵉʳ ᵈⁱᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴴᵉ ˢᵘᶠᶠᵉʳᵉᵈ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰᵒʷ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍᵉᵗˢ ˢᵗᵒᵐᵖᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵉᵉⁿ ʰᵒʷ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ʰᵉ ᶜᵃʳᵉˢ? ᴴᵉ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ˢʰᵒʷˢ ⁱᵗ‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜʳⁱᵉˢ‧ "ᴴᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ʷᵉᵃᵏ⸴ ᵇᵘˡˡⁱᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵖᵉᵉʳˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃᵇᵃⁿᵈᵒⁿᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᴼˡᵈ ᴹᵃⁿ ᴶᵉⁿᵏⁱⁿˢ ᵖᵒⁱˢᵒⁿᵉᵈ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿᵉᵈ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵖᵒᵒʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ˡᵒⁿᵉˡʸ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗᵃʸᵉᵈ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ⁱⁿ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵒᶠ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ‧ ᔆᵒ ⁿᵒʷ⸴ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵒᶠ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴺᵒʷ ᴵ'ᵐ ᵗᵉᵃᵐ ᴷʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᴷʳᵃᵇ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ʷⁱˢʰ ʰⁱᵐ ʰᵃʳᵐ‧ ᴰᵉˢᵖⁱᵗᵉ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵖᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʳⁱᶜᵉ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵉᵍᵒ‧ ᔆᵒ ᵃᵗ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʳᵘᵇ ⁱᵗ ⁱⁿ‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃᵗ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵉᵃʳˡⁱᵉʳ ʰᵒˡᵈⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᵗ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ʳᵉˢᵖᵉᶜᵗ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ⁿᵒʷ ᵖᵘᵗ ⁱᵗ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵖᵒᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ˢᵒ ˡᵒᵛᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵐⁱˢˢ ʸᵒᵘ‧ ᴹʸ ʲᵒᵇ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ʷᵒʳᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˡⁱᶠᵉ‧" ᴳᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ⸴ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵉˡᵈ ⁱᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵒˢˢ‧ "ᵀᵃᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ‧" "ᵂʰᵃᵗ‧‧‧" "ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ⸴ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿⁿᵒᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵉⁿᶜᵉ ʷᵉᵃʳ ⁱᵗ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵈᵒ ᶠᵒʳ ᵐʸ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᴾᵉʳʰᵃᵖˢ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ᶜᵒᵐᵖʳᵉʰᵉⁿᵈ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʰᵉ ᵐᵘˢᵗ'ᵛᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵇᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵈⁱˢᵗʳᵘˢᵗᶠᵘˡ‧ ᴵᵗ'ˢ ᵗᵒ ˡᵃᵗᵉ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ'ᵈ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ᵐʸ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ⁱᶠ ⁱᵗ ᵐᵉᵃⁿˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜᵃⁿ ˡⁱᵛᵉ ᵃ ʰᵃᵖᵖʸ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ʰᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰᵘʳᵗ‧ ᴵ'ᵈ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵃᵇᵃⁿᵈᵒⁿ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴵ'ᵈ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ᵘᵖ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴵᶠ ᵒⁿˡʸ ʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰᵒʷ ʰᵃᵖᵖʸ ʰᵉ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᵐᵉ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵈᵉˢᵉʳᵛᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ˢᵘᶜʰ ʰᵃᵖᵖⁱⁿᵉˢˢ‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˢᶜᵒᶠᶠᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉˢ‧ "ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵍᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᶠˡᵒʷᵉʳˢ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʸˢ⸴ ᵃˡˢᵒ ˡᵉᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ⁱᶠ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵃʸˢ ˢᵘᶜʰ ⁱᵗ'ᵈ ᵇᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵖᵒᵖ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃᵈᵐⁱᵗ ᵈᵉᶠᵉᵃᵗ; ᵇᵘᵗ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧‧‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵒʷ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ʰᵉ'ˢ ʷᵃⁱᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉᵃʳ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳᵈˢ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵖᵒᵏᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ˢᵒ ⁿⁱᶜᵉ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ ᵈᵉˢᵉʳᵛᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᵏⁿᵒʷ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʳⁱᵈ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵇᵒᵗⁱᶜ ʳᵉᵐᵃⁱⁿˢ ᵃˢ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵉᵗᵘʳⁿˢ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᶠˡᵒʷᵉʳˢ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‽" "ᴵ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᵃ ʳᵒᵇᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ⸴ ʷᵉˡˡ ⁱᵗ⸴ ⁱᵗ ᵈᵒᵉˢⁿ'ᵗ ᵐᵃᵗᵗᵉʳ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ᴰᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᴵ'ᵈ ᵇᵉ ᶠᵘʳⁱᵒᵘˢ? ᴺᵒ ᴵ ᵃᵐ ᵗʰʳⁱˡˡᵉᵈ! ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ˢᵒ ᶜˡᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵐᵃʳᵗ‧ ᴬⁿᵈ ᴵ ᵐᵉᵃⁿᵗ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᴵ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒʷ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ʰᵘᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ʳᵉˡⁱᵉᶠ⸴ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈʰᵒᵒᵈ‧ » 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 𝟖𝟎𝟐