Wisdom With Teeth Emojis & Text

WISDOM WITH TEETH 2/2 The nurse returns with a wheelchair. "Alright, Mr. Plankton," she says with a smile. "Let's get you up and moving." He looks at her with a dazed expression, his mouth hanging open slightly as he drools onto his chest. "Whath's the maddah?" he asks, his words jumbled. Karen tries to hide her smile as she gently wipes his mouth with a tissue. "You're just groggy, sweetie. The anesthesia's wearing off," she explains, taking his hand. "Let's get you into the chair." With her help, Plankton manages to stand, his legs shaky beneath him. The nurse places the wheelchair behind him, and he plops down with a sigh of relief, the chair's cushions enveloping his frail frame. His drool hangs from his mouth like a tiny waterfall, and she can't help but lean in and kiss him gently on the forehead. He looks up at Karen with the wide, wondering eye of a toddler discovering the world for the first time. "Whath's...thath?" he asks, his gaze fixed on the wheelchair. Karen laughs lightly, her hand still steadying his arm. "It's for you to sit in so you don't have to walk all the way to the car." He nods slowly, the action causing his antennae to wobble. With a gentle push from the nurse, the wheelchair begins to move, and Plankton looks like a lost child in an unfamiliar playground. His drool forms a small puddle in his lap, and Karen graciously hands him another napkin. The corridor outside the recovery room is a blur of white walls and sterile equipment, but the warmth of Karen's hand on his shoulder keeps him anchored. "Whath's...thath?" he asks again, his gaze fixed on the ceiling lights as they pass above him. They look like stars, twinkling in an alien sky. Karen smiles patiently, pointing out each one. "They're just lights, Plankton. We're in the hallway now." His eye follows the nurse's hand as she opens the door to the waiting area. She can see the fear and confusion in his gaze, but she knows it's just the drugs. A young couple with a toddler looks over as they pass by. The little girl giggles, pointing at his mouth. "Mommy, why is he drooling?" she asks innocently. The mother blushes and pulls her daughter away, muttering an apology to Karen. Plankton's cheeks redden, and he tries to wipe his mouth discreetly with the back of his hand. "It's ok," Karen whispers, her voice a gentle breeze. "You're just a little out of it." He nods, his gaze still mesmerized by the lights. "Whath's thath?" he asks again, pointing at a framed poster on the wall. Karen leans in to look. "It's a picture of a happy family," she says, her voice a balm to his confusion. His antennae twitch, and he nods again, the motion setting off a fresh wave of drool. The nurse wheels him out to the car, and Karen helps him into the passenger seat, his body moving like a ragdoll. "Buckle up, Plankton," she says, and he fumbles with the seatbelt, his hands slipping over the buckle. She fastens it for him, his cheek pressed against the cool leather. "Whewe's we going?" he slurs, his voice laced with sleep. "Home," she says. His mouth hangs open slightly, a string of drool connecting his bottom lip to his chin. "Whath's happening?" he mumbles, his head lolling to the side. "You're ok, honey. We're just driving home." She keeps her voice low, hoping to keep the outside world at bay. The car jolts over a bump, and Plankton's eye snaps open. "Ow," he whines, his hand flying to his mouth. The cotton has shifted, and the pain is sharp. Karen quickly reaches over and readjusts it, her touch gentle. "You're ok," she whispers. "Whath's this?" he slurs, his hand fumbling with the seatbelt. "It's keeping you safe," she says, her voice steady and calm. "Just hold on, ok?" He nods, his eyelid drooping almost immediately. "Whath's...whath's..." he mumbles before falling asleep. Then his head nods forward, jerking back up as he started to doze off. He wakes with a snort, the cotton still lodged in his mouth. Karen laughs softly, reaching over to remove it. "Almost there, sweetie," she says. His eye is glassy, and he nods, his head lolling again. The car hits another bump, and his eye flies open again, wide with panic. "Whe... whath...whath's happening?" he asks, his voice high pitched. "It's ok," Karen repeats, keeping her tone calm and soothing. "We're just driving home. Try to relax." Plankton's eye closes, and for a brief moment, the car is silent except for the purr of the engine. But then he's jolted awake again, his head snapping back with a start. "Whewe awe we?" he asks, his voice slurred. "Almost home, sweetie," Karen says, her voice steady. He nods, his head falling back onto the headrest. The car's movement rocks him like a cradle, and his eye closes with a snore. But the jostle of a turn wakes him up with a start. "Whath's happening?" he mumbles, his eye unfocused. The world outside the window is a blur of colors and shapes. Karen smiles, taking his hand in hers. "Just a turn. We're almost there." Another snore escapes his throat, and his head lolls to the side again. Karen gently shakes him awake. "We're home," she says, her voice a beacon in the fog. He blinks, his vision swimming with sleep. "Whe...whe...whath's that?" he asks, his voice barely a murmur as the car slows to a stop. "Whe...whath's going on?" he asks again. His eye is heavy, and his words are a jumble. With a sigh, she unbuckles his seatbelt and helps him out of the car, his legs still wobbly. The cool breeze slaps his face, and he winces. "Home," he murmurs, his eye half-closed. Karen guides him to the front door, his steps labored. The house is quiet, save for the distant hum of the refrigerator. Inside, she helps him to the couch, where he flops down like a ragdoll, his body heavy with exhaustion. "Whe...whe...whath's that?" he asks again, his head lolling to the side. Karen chuckles softly. "It's our living room, Plankton," she says, placing a pillow under his head, but Plankton barely registers. "Whath's that?" he asks again, his gaze wandering to the TV. It's off, but in his drug-induced haze, it's a source of fascination. Karen sits down beside him, his body a dead weight against the couch cushions. She takes his hand in hers, her thumb tracing circles on his palm. "It's just the TV, honey. You don't need to worry about it." He nods, his head still lolling to the side. "Whe...whath awe we washing?" His question hangs in the air, and she laughs softly. "We're not watching anything. It's off." The TV seems to beckon to him, and he tries to sit up, his body protesting. "Whe...whath's on?" he slurs, his antennae waving sluggishly. "It's not on, Plankton," Karen says, her voice a warm embrace. "Why don't you just rest?" She tucks the throw blanket around his shoulders and reclines the sofa. His eyelid flickers, the struggle between sleep and curiosity evident. The room starts to spin, and Plankton's antennae wave erratically. "I'm... so tiwed," he mumbles, his words a gentle protest. Karen nods, her smile understood. "Sleep, sweetie. I'll be here when you wake up." He nods, his eyelid fluttering closed, and his breathing becomes deep and rhythmic. Karen watches him for a moment, his chest rising and falling with the comfort of a sleeping babe's. Then she gently slides the blanket over him, his snores the only sound piercing the quiet. The room dims as the afternoon sun moves behind the curtains, casting a soft glow across the living room. Plankton's hand, still clutching Karen's, slips to the floor with a thump, and his snores grow louder. Karen chuckles, reaching for it to place it gently on his chest. His breathing is slow and even, his chest rising and falling beneath the blanket. Karen sits for a moment, watching him sleep, her mind racing with all the things she needs to do: prepare his meals, make sure he takes his medicine on time, keep an eye on his swelling. But for now, she's content to just sit and watch him, his features relaxed and peaceful in slumber.

WISDOM WITH TEETH 1/2 Karen glanced at the clock, its digital display reading 7:58 AM. "Alright, Plankton, it's time to get up. The dentist's appointment is at 8:30," she says. Groaning, Plankton pulls the covers over his head. "Do we have to go right now?" he mumbles. "I'm not even hungry for breakfast." Karen rolls her eyes and smiles. "No, honey, you're not supposed to eat before the surgery. Come on." The drive to the dental office is filled with tension. The scent of antiseptic greets them as they walk in. Finally, the nurse calls his name, and his heart skips a beat. Karen squeezes his hand reassuringly as they follow her down the hallway. The chair in the operating room is a monstrous contraption that looms over him like a predator ready to devour him. The nurse tells him to sit, and he does, reluctantly. The doctor enters the room. He explains the procedure in detail. The nurse wraps a blood pressure cuff around his arm, and he feels the squeeze. "Everything looks good," she says, smiling. "Now, let's get you all set up." The anesthesiologist arrives, wheeling in a cart filled with syringes and tubes. "Ok Plankton," the doctor says calmly. "This is just to help you relax." Plankton's eye widens, but the room quickly starts to blur. Karen kisses him on the forehead as if from far away. The anesthetic takes hold, and Plankton feels himself slipping into a deep sleep, his fear momentarily fading to the background. The last thing he hears is the rhythmic beep of the heart monitor, and then silence. Karen watches her husband from the chair beside him, his chest rising and falling evenly. The doctor and his team spring into action, their movements swift and precise. The nurse notices her tension and offers her a magazine, but she can't tear her eyes away from Plankton's still face, his mouth now open and vulnerable. The whirring of the drill starts up, and she clenches her fists in her lap. She tries to focus on his breathing, until finally, she hears the doctor say, "Alright, we're all done." Relief floods through her, and she exhales deeply. The nurse gently guides Plankton into the recovery room, his face now swollen and his mouth packed with cotton. Karen takes his hand and squeezes it. The room is cool and dim, designed to soothe patients coming out of anesthesia. The doctor enters, his mask now removed, and gives them a thumbs up. "It went well. No complications," he says, and Karen's shoulders drop in relief. She leans in and whispers, "You did so well, honey," though he's still too asleep to hear. The nurse explains that he'll be groggy for a while and that the numbness will wear off. Karen nods, taking in the doctor's instructions about pain medication and diet restrictions. Plankton's snores fill the quiet space, a testament to his deep sleep. She watches his chest rise and fall, the rhythm comforting and steady. The beeping of the monitors creates a backdrop to the scene, a gentle reminder that he's ok. She smooths his antennae with affection. Karen's mind wanders to the day ahead. The errands they'll need to run, the meals she'll have to prep that won't upset his tender mouth. She'll have to be extra careful with him, making sure he doesn't accidentally bite his cheek or tongue. The thought makes her smile, knowing he'll be extra cranky with the pain. But she's ready for it, ready to be his rock through the recovery. The nurse checks Plankton's vitals, her eyes flickering to the monitor before giving Karen an encouraging nod. "He's doing great." Karen nods, her gaze never leaving him. As Plankton starts to stir, his eye blinking open, the world coming back into focus, he looks at Karen with a dazed expression. "Wheh am I?" he slurs, his voice muffled by the cotton in his mouth. Karen laughs softly, her voice soothing like a lullaby. "You're at the dentist, sweetie. You just had your wisdom teeth taken out. It's all over now." He tries to sit up, but the nurse gently presses him back down. "Take it easy," she says. "You're still pretty out of it." Plankton's eye darts around the recovery room, looking for anything familiar. Karen's face is a welcome sight. He reaches for her hand, his own feeling like it's made of rubber. "Whewe awe we?" he asks again, his mind foggy with confusion. The nurse laughs kindly. "You're still a little loopy from the anesthesia," she explains. "You're at the dentist's office. Do you remember the surgery?" Plankton nods slightly, the memory of the needle piercing his skin coming back in a rush. "Ow...teef," he mumbles, his hand moving to his mouth. Karen squeezes his hand, her smile filled with a mix of relief and amusement. "Don't worry, you're ok," she says, speaking slowly and clearly. "You're going to be groggy for a bit, but I'm here with you." The nurse starts to remove the cotton, and Plankton winces at the sudden coldness. "I'm fwothless," he murmurs, his voice still thick with the anesthesia. He tries to sit up again, but his body feels like it's made of jelly. The nurse places an ice pack on his cheek, and the coolness spreads through him like a wave. "You're fine, Mr. Plankton," she says. "Your wife will take you home soon." Karen watches with a blend of love and amusement as he blinks rapidly, his eyes trying to clear the fog. "Whath happened tho me?" he asks, his voice cracking. "You had surgery, remember?" she says, stroking his forehead. He nods, but his gaze is still faraway, lost in the haze of the drugs. "I wanth ice wath," he says, pouting like a child who's lost his favorite toy. Karen laughs. "Here, honey," she says, holding the cup to him. He sips slowly, the cold water soothing his dry throat. He clutches the cup with both hands, his grip weak but determined. "Whewe am I?" he asks again, his voice a whisper. Karen smiles. "You're in the recovery room," she repeats. "They just took out your wisdom teeth." Plankton nods, his eye half-closed. He looks like a little boy who's just woken up from a nap, unsure of where he is or what's happening. He tries to sit up once more, his body moving in slow motion. "Whewe's my bwanket?" he mumbles. "You don't have a blanket, but you have me," Karen says, her voice gentle. The nurse returns with a set of instructions. "Now, remember, no hot food or drinks for the next few days, ok?" the nurse instructs, her tone motherly. He nods, his eye drooping. "No soup either," Karen adds, smiling at the nurse's nod. "Only soft things, like mashed potatoes and pudding." The nurse hands him a cup of ice chips. "Here you go," she says, placing them in his hand. He looks at her with a mix of gratitude and confusion. "Ice wath?" he repeats, his fingers fumbling to bring the cup to his mouth. The cold sensation jolts him back to reality, and he crunches on them with gusto, dropping a few onto his chest. Karen quickly wipes them off with a napkin, trying not to laugh at his childlike antics. The nurse leaves them with a final smile and a promise to check back soon. Plankton looks around the room again, his eye wide and uncertain. "Whath's thith?" he asks, pointing at the IV in his hand. "It's your pain medication, Plankton," Karen explains, her voice soft and soothing. "It's to help you feel better." He nods, his eye half-closed, and snuggles against her shoulder. "Tank you, Kahen," he mumbles, his speech still slurred. "You're welcome," she whispers, stroking his hair. "You're going to be ok." The room spins slightly around him, and he feels his eyelid growing heavy. With the coldness of the recovery room and the warmth of Karen beside him, Plankton slips back into a doze, his breathing deepening. The nurse returns, checking his vitals and giving Karen a knowing smile. "It's normal for him to be a bit out of it. The anesthesia can take a while to wear off. He'll be more lucid in a bit." Plankton's eye flutters open, and he looks around the room again, drool forming at the corner of his mouth as he tries to articulate. "Whewe's...my...bwanket?" he asks, his voice a slurred mess. Karen chuckles with love and pity. "You don't need a blanket," she says, wiping the drool away with a tissue. "You're right here with me." He looks down at the ice chips in his hand, and then back up at Karen, his expression puzzled. "Mashed potatoes?" he repeats, his voice hopeful. "Yes, mashed potatoes," she confirms, laughing lightly. "And maybe some Jell-O for dessert." The mention of food seems to perk him up, and his eye brightens slightly. But the drowsiness wins, and he lets his head loll back onto the chair, his breathing deepening. Karen watches him with a mixture of love and concern. The sight of him, so vulnerable and childlike, tugs at her heartstrings. She can't help but wonder what kind of day this will be, caring for him like this. But she's ready for it, ready to be the strong one.

💜💚✨plankton x karen✨💚💜

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

²

ᵂᵃˡᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᴾʳᵃⁿᵏ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ "ᴾᵉᵃʳˡ ʰᵃˢⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵉˡᵖᵉᵈ ᵘˢ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵖʳᵃⁿᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒʸˢ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ!" ᵀʰᵉ ᴳᵃˡ ᴾᵃˡˢ ʷᵉʳᵉ ʰᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵍⁱʳˡˢ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧ "ᴵ'ᵈ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ᵖᵃʳᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵖʳᵃⁿᵏⁱⁿᵍ!" ᔆᵃⁱᵈ ᴾᵉᵃʳˡ‧ "ᴴᵒʷ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ?" ᵀʰᵉʸ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃⁿᶜʰᵒʳ ˢʰᵃᵖᵉᵈ ʰᵒᵐᵉ‧ "ᴹˢ‧ ᴾᵘᶠᶠ‧‧‧" ᔆʰᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ‧ "ᴼʰ ʰᵉʸ ᴹˢ‧ ᴾᵘᶠᶠ!" "ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵒʳᵍᵒᵗ!" "ᴴᵘʰ?" "ᴬᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᵘʳ ᵈᵃᵗᵉ ᵗᵒⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᵈⁱᵈ ᵗᵒ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ! ᴵ'ᵐ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵒᵐᵉ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷᵉᵈ ʰᵉʳ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉˢᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵃˡ ᵖᵃˡˢ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ᵖʳᵃⁿᵏᵉᵈ!" ᵀʰᵉʸ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰᵉᵈ‧ "ᴼʰ!" "ᴵ'ˡˡ ᶜᵃˡˡ ᴮʳᵃⁿ ᶠˡᵒᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵐᵃᵗʰ ᶜˡᵃˢˢ‧‧‧" ᴾᵉᵃʳˡ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ʰᵉʳ ᵖʰᵒⁿᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵈⁱᵃˡ ʰⁱˢ ⁿᵘᵐᵇᵉʳ‧ "ᴰⁱᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠⁱⁿⁱˢʰ ᵒᵘʳ ʰᵒᵐᵉʷᵒʳᵏ?" "ᴵ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷᵉ ʰᵃᵈ ᵃⁿʸ‧‧‧" "ᴵ'ᵐ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵖʳᵃⁿᵏⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ!" ᴾᵉᵃʳˡ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ʰᵃⁿᵍⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ‧ "ᴵ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵍᵒ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵇⁱᵍᵍᵉʳ ᵖʳᵃⁿᵏ‧‧‧" "ᶜᵃⁿ ʷᵉ ˡᵉⁿᵍᵗʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵖʳᵃⁿᵏ ᵒⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ?" ᔆᵒ ᵗʰᵉʸ ˢⁿᵉᵃᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧ "ᔆʰᵒᵘˡᵈ ʷᵉ ᵖˡᵃⁿ ⁱⁿˢᵗᵉᵃᵈ ᵒᶠ ʷⁱⁿᵍⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᵗ? ᴵ ᵐᵉᵃⁿ ᵐʸ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ʷᵉ'ᵈ ᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᴵ'ᵐ ᵃ ᶜᵘˢᵗᵒᵐᵉʳ!" ᴾᵉᵃʳˡ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉ ᵐᵃᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵒ ᵗʳᵘˢᵗⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ˢᵒ ⁱᵗ ⁿᵉᵉᵈˢ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ‧‧‧" "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵈᵒᵉˢ ʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ʰᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᵍⁱʳˡˢ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ?" ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ ᶜᵘᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᶠᶠ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧ "ᴵ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᴵ'ᵈ ᵇᵉ ᵍᵒⁿᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ⸴ ˢᵒ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵇᵉᵗ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ˢᵉᵉ ⁱᵗ ᶜᵒᵐⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᶠ ʰᵉ ˢᵃʷ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʰⁱᵐ ʳᵉᵃˡ ʷᵉˡˡ⸴ ᵉˣᶜᵉᵖᵗ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵃᶠʳᵃⁱᵈ ᵒᶠ ᵐᵉ‧‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵈᵒᵉˢ ˢᶜⁱᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᵉˣᵖᵉʳⁱᵐᵉⁿᵗˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵃⁿᵗˢ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵃⁱⁿ ᵇᵘˢⁱⁿᵉˢˢ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ‧" "ᴴᵉ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵍⁿⁱˢᵉ ᵃⁿʸ ᵒᶠ ᵘˢ‧‧‧" "ᔆʰᵒᵘˡᵈⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵉ ˢᵉᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵈᵒⁱⁿᵍ?" ᴹˢ‧ ᴾᵘᶠᶠ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ‧ "ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵍᵒ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵗʰᵉᵐ‧ "ᴼⁿᶜᵉ ʷᵉ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ʰᵉ ⁱˢ⸴ ʷᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ‧‧‧" "ᔆˡᵉᵉᵖⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ᵇᵉᵈ‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶜᵒᵐᵉˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧ "ᴵ ᵖᵉᵉᵏᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵐʸ ˢᵉⁿˢᵒʳˢ ⁱⁿᵈⁱᶜᵃᵗᵉᵈ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵘᵖ⁻ ᔆᵗᵃⁱʳˢ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵈʳᵒᵒᵐ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵒ ˡᵉᵗ'ˢ ˢᵉᵉ⸴ ʷʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ʷᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵈᵒ?" "ᵂᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᶜʰᵃⁿᵍᵉ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜˡᵒᶜᵏˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᶜᵃˡᵉⁿᵈᵃʳˢ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ'ˢ ᵃ ᶜˡᵒᶜᵏ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵈ‧‧‧" "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ˢⁿᵉᵃᵏ ⁱⁿ!" ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ "ᵂᵉ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵃᵍʳᵉᵉ ᵒⁿ ᵃ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ‧‧‧" "ᴵ'ᵈ ˢᵃʸ ⁿᵒᵒⁿ!" "ᴺᵒᵒⁿ ⁱᵗ ⁱˢ ᵗʰᵉⁿ!" "ᵂᵉ'ˡˡ ᶜʰᵃⁿᵍᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵃˡᵉⁿᵈᵃʳˢ ᵗᵒ ᶜʰʳⁱˢᵗᵐᵃˢ ᵈᵃʸ!" ᴾᵉᵃʳˡ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰᵉᵈ‧ "ᴵ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ! ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵈᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜˡᵒᶜᵏˢ ᵈᵒʷⁿˢᵗᵃⁱʳˢ⸴ ᴹˢ‧ ᴾᵘᶠᶠ; ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵈᵒ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵖᵖˡⁱᵃⁿᶜᵉˢ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ᵖᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ʰᵃⁿᵈˢ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐⁱᵈᵈˡᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡⁱᶠᵗᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵘᵖ⸴ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵒ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᵈᵉˢⁱᵍⁿᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵃˢᵏˢ‧ ᔆᵒ ˢᵃⁿᵈʸ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵈʳᵒᵒᵐ⸴ ᶜᵃʳᵉᶠᵘˡ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ⁿᵒⁱˢᵉ‧ ᔆˡᵒʷˡʸ ᵖᵘˢʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ⸴ ˢʰᵉ ˢᵗᵒᵒᵈ ᵒⁿ ʰᵉʳ ᵗᵒᵉˢ ˢᵒ ᵃˢ ᵗᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵈⁱˢᵗᵘʳᵇ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᶜʳᵃʷˡᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜˡᵒᶜᵏ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶜʰᵃⁿᵍᵉᵈ ⁱᵗ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢⁿᵒʳᵉ⸴ ˢᵗⁱᶠˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵘʳᵍᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍⁱᵍᵍˡᵉ‧ ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ᶠⁱˣⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜˡᵒᶜᵏ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵉᵉˢ ᵗʰᵉ ʷⁱⁿᵈᵒʷ'ˢ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉᵈ⸴ ˢʰᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉᵉᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵈᵒʷⁿ⁻ ˢᵗᵃⁱʳˢ‧ "ᴵ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵃ ᶜʰʳⁱˢᵗᵐᵃˢ ᵗʳᵉᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵒᵘʳ ᵍᵃʳᵃᵍᵉ!" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ "ᴸᵉᵗ'ˢ ᵍᵉᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ⁱⁿᵛᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷʳᵃᵖ ᵗʰᵉᵐ!" "ᴴᵒʷ ᵃʳᵉ ʷᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ʰᵉʳᵉ?" "ᴾᵉʳʰᵃᵖˢ ʷᵉ ˢⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵒˡⁱᵈᵃʸ'ˢ ᵐᵘˢⁱᶜ ˢᵒⁿᵍˢ ˡᵒᵘᵈ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵗᵉˣᵗᵉᵈ ᵐʸ ᵈᵃᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ⁱⁿ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʳᵃⁿᵏ! ᴵ ᵐᵃʸ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵗᵉˣᵗᵉᵈ ᴮʳᵃⁿ ᶠˡᵒᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢ‧‧‧" ᴾᵉᵃʳˡ ᶜʰᵘᶜᵏˡᵉᵈ⸴ ᵗᵘʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗˢ‧ "ᔆᵃⁿᵗᵃ ᔆᵃⁿᵗᵃ'ˢ ʰᵃˢ ᵍᵒᵗ ʰⁱˢ ʲᵒˡˡʸ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ᵉʸᵉˢ ᵒⁿ ᵐᵉ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ‧ "ᵂʰᵃᵗ ⁱˢ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ‧‧‧" ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃᵗᵉ⸴ ʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ ᵗᵃᵏᵉⁿ ᵃᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵃʷ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ⁱⁿ ʰᵃᵗˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢʷᵉᵃᵗᵉʳˢ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵘᵖ; ⁿᵒʷ⸴ ʷᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ ᵒᵘʳ ᵍⁱᶠᵗˢ!" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʰᵃⁿᵈᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʳᵉˢᵉⁿᵗˢ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ? ᵂʰᵉʳᵉ'ˢ ᵒᵘʳ‧‧‧" "ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ⸴ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉˢᵗ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵉⁿ ᵐᵉ!" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶜᵘᵗ ⁱⁿ⸴ ᵘⁿʷʳᵃᵖᵖⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉʳˢ ˡᵃᵇᵉˡˢ 'ᵗᵒ ᵏᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵖˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ' ʰᵃᵖᵖⁱˡʸ‧ "ᴵ‧‧‧" "ᴾᵉᵃʳˡ⸴ ʰᵒʷ'ᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᴵ ⁿᵉᵉᵈᵉᵈ ᵃ ⁿᵉʷ ᵛᵃᶜᵘᵘᵐ?" "ᴼʰ⸴ ᴮʳᵃⁿ; ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ʰᵒᵘˢᵉ'ˢ ᵃ ᵐᵉˢˢ!" "ᴵ ⁿᵉᵉᵈᵉᵈ ᵃ ᵍᵖˢ ˢʸˢᵗᵉᵐ!" "ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ʷᵉˡᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᴹˢ‧ ᴾᵘᶠᶠ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᶠʳᵃⁿᵗⁱᶜᵃˡˡʸ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵖᵖˡⁱᵃⁿᶜᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃʸ ˢᵉᵗ ᵃˢ ᶜʰʳⁱˢᵗᵐᵃˢ‧ "ᴵᵗ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ᵇᵉ ᶜʰʳⁱˢᵗᵐᵃˢ; ᴵ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ʷʳᵃᵖᵖᵉᵈ⸴ ʷʰʸ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃˡˡ ᵐʸ ⁱⁿᵛᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ‧‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵉᵉᵈˢ ᵗᵒ ᵘⁿʷʳᵃᵖ ʰⁱˢ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵃⁿᵗᵃ ᔆᵃⁿᵗᵃ'ˢ ʰᵃˢ ᵍᵒᵗ ʰⁱˢ ʲᵒˡˡʸ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ᵉʸᵉˢ ᵒⁿ ᵐᵉ‧‧‧" ᶠʳᵘˢᵗʳᵃᵗᵉᵈ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗʳᵉᵉ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ʰⁱˢ ˡᵃᵇᵉˡ 'ᵗᵒ ᵖˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵏʳᵃᵇˢ' ʷʳᵃᵖᵖᵉᵈ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵘⁿʷʳᵃᵖᵖᵉᵈ ⁱᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵉᶜʳᵉᵗ ᵇᵒᵗᵗˡᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃᵖᵉʳ ᵒᶠ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ‧ ᵁⁿᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵈⁱˢˡᵒᵈᵍᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˡⁱᵈ⸴ ʰᵉ ˢᵐᵃˢʰᵉˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍˡᵃˢˢ ᵗᵒ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵏ ⁱᵗ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ‧ ᴱˣᶜⁱᵗᵉᵈˡʸ ᵘⁿᶠᵒˡᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖⁱᵉᶜᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵖᵃᵖᵉʳ ʳᵒˡˡᵉᵈ⸴ ⁱᵗ ˢᵃʸˢ 'ʸᵒᵘ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵖʳᵃⁿᵏᵉᵈ' ᵒⁿ ⁱᵗ‧ ᴬˡˡ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵘⁿᵛᵉⁱˡᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ʷⁱⁿᵈᵒʷˢ ˢʰᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵈᵃʳᵏ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ ᴴᵘᵐⁱˡⁱᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉᵐᵇᵃʳʳᵃˢˢᵉᵈ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʳⁱᵖˢ ᵘᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒˡˡ ᵒᶠ ᵖᵃᵖᵉʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍᵒᵉˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ‧ "ᔆᵉᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃᵗ ˢᶜʰᵒᵒˡ ᴾᵉᵃʳˡ‧‧‧" ᴮʳᵃⁿ ᶠˡᵒᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢ ˡᵉᶠᵗ‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵃˡ ᵖᵃˡˢ ʳᵉᵐᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢⁱᵍʰᵉᵈ‧ "ᴴᵉ'ˡˡ ᶜᵃˡᵐ ᵈᵒʷⁿ⸴ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ?" "ᴴᵃʳᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵃʸ‧‧‧" ᔆʰᵉ ᵃᵈᵐⁱᵗˢ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉˢᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ʳᵉᵛᵉʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵖᵖˡⁱᵃⁿᶜᵉˢ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ?" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ'ˢ ˢⁱˡᵉⁿᵗˡʸ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ "ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵒⁿ⸴ ʷᵉ ᵖʳᵃⁿᵏᵉᵈ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢʰᵉᵈ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵍᵃˡ ᵖᵃˡˢ ᶜᵃᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵘᵖ‧ "ᴴᵉʸ ᵇᵘᵈ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ?" ᴴᵉ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ˡᵃˢʰ ᵒᵘᵗ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵐᵃᵈ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵃⁿᵍʳʸ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃʸ ᑫᵘⁱᵉᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ʷᵒʳᵈ‧‧‧ "ᴵ ⁱⁿᵛⁱᵗᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ‧" ᴾᵉᵃʳˡ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ˢᵖᵃᶜᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵉ?" "ᴸᵉᵗ'ˢ ᶜᵃˡˡ ⁱᵗ ᵃ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵍᵃˡ ᵖᵃˡˢ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁱⁿᶠᵒʳᵐᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵍᵃˡ ᵖᵃˡˢ‧ "ᵂᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵈⁱᵈ ⁱᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃˡˡ ⁱⁿ ᶠᵘⁿ‧‧" "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ; ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ʰᵘʳᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵖʳⁱᵈᵉ?" "ʸᵉˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵃᵖᵒˡᵒᵍⁱˢᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ʷᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ‧" "ᵀʰᵃⁿᵏˢ; ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ˢᵘʳᵉ ˢʰᵉ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵃʸ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳᵈ 'ˡᵒᵛᵉ' ⁱⁿ ᵃ ˢᵉⁿᵗᵉⁿᶜᵉ⸴ ˡᵉᵗ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰᵉ ˢʰᵒʷᵉᵈ ᵃᶠᶠᵉᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵃᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ʷᵃʸ‧‧‧ "ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ʷᵉˡᶜᵒᵐᵉ; ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ‧‧" ˢʰᵉ ᵗᵘᶜᵏᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ⁱⁿ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᶠʳᵉᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵉˡˡ ᵐᵉ ᵃⁿʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵃʸ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢʰᵉ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ ʰᵉ'ˢ ˢⁿᵒʳⁱⁿᵍ‧ "ᔆˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵗⁱᵍʰᵗ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧‧"

W ired I ntegrated F emale E lectroencephalograph Любимая жена!

ᵂᵒʳˢᵗ ᴱⁿᵉᵐʸ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 𝟗𝟑𝟎 ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ .ೃ࿐ 𝚃𝚠: 𝙱𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍 ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒⁿ ᵉᵐᵖˡᵒʸᵉᵉ ʳᵉᵗʳᵉᵃᵗ; ᵃ ᵖᵉʳᶠᵉᶜᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗʳⁱᵏᵉ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ ᵇʸ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ‧ "ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ⸴ ᴵ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃˡᵏ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵒᶠᶠⁱᶜᵉ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵗᵉˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᴵ ˢᵗᵉᵃˡ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ; ʷᵉ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶜʰᵃⁿᵍᵉ ᵘᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵘˡᵉˢ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˢᶜᵃⁿⁿᵉᵈ ᵐᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳⁿᵃˡ ᵈᵃᵐᵃᵍᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ʷᵉᵃᵏⁿᵉˢˢ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ˢᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵈᵒ ʷʰᵃᵗᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵒᵖ ᵐᵉ ᵉˣᶜᵉᵖᵗ ᶠᵒʳ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᵃᶜᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵇᵉˡⁱᵉᵛᵉ? ʸᵒᵘ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ; ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ ᵘˢᵉᵈ ˢʸᵐᵖᵃᵗʰʸ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ⁱⁿ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵖˡᵃⁿˢ!" ᴹʳ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵃʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ᵗᵒ ᶜʳʸ‧ "ᴾˡᵉᵃˢᵉ!" "ʸᵒᵘ ᶜʰⁱᶜᵏᵉⁿ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵏⁱᶜᵏᵉᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃˡˡ ʰⁱˢ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ᶠˡʸ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰⁱᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃˡˡ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ᵗʰᵘᵈ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃᶜᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʷᵃˢ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ˢᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿˡʸ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵗʳᵃᶜᵏˢ; ⁿᵒᵗ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵈⁱᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵐᵒᵛᵉ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵇˡᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ᵗᵒ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ?" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵏⁿᵉˡᵗ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉʳ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ!" ᴴᵉ ᵇᵉⁿᵗ ᵈᵒʷⁿ⸴ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˡᵃᵗᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ʷᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗʳᵘᵗʰ‧ "ᴼʰ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵒᵇᵇᵉᵈ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧‧" ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ ᶜʳʸⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˡᵉᵃⁿᵉᵈ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉᵃʳ ˢʰᵃˡˡᵒʷ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵈᵉˢᵖᵉʳᵃᵗᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍʳᵃᵇᵇᵉᵈ ᵃ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵃᵘⁿᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵒᵖⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉⁿ‧ "ᶜᵃⁿ ᵃ ᵏʳᵃᵇᵇʸ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ ˢᶜᵉⁿᵗ ᵒᶠ ˢᵐᵉˡˡ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵘᵖ?" ᴺᵒ ⁱⁿᵈⁱᶜᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷʰᵃᵗˢᵒᵉᵛᵉʳ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵖʰᵒⁿᵉ ⁿᵘᵐᵇᵉʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ‧ "ᴴᵉˡˡᵒ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃⁿˢʷᵉʳᵉᵈ‧ "ʸᵒᵘʳ ʰᵉˡᵖ ⁱˢ ⁿᵉᵉᵈᵉᵈ‧" "ᴰⁱᵈ ᵐʸ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʰⁱˢ ʳⁱˢᵏ ᵇʳᵃⁱⁿ ᵈᵃᵐᵃᵍᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃˢᵗʰᵐᵃ?" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧ "ᴴᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵉˡˡ ᵐᵉ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃˢᵗʰᵐᵃ⸴ ᵃˢ ᴵ ʰᵘʳᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒⁿᶜᵉ ʰᵉ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵐᵉ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵒⁿˡʸ ⁿᵒᵈᵈᵉᵈ ʳᵉˢᵖᵒⁿˢᵉ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒ ˢᵒʳʳʸ; ᴵ'ᵈ ᵈᵒ ᵃⁿʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵘⁿᵈᵒ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʲᵘˢᵗ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉ ᶜᵒⁿⁿⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ⸴ ᵖˡᵉᵃᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵇᵉᵍᵍⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ʷᵒʳˢᵗ ᵉⁿᵉᵐʸ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵉᵐᵖᵃᵗʰʸ‧ "ᴴᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ˢⁿᵉᵃᵏ ⁱⁿ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵃⁿⁿᵒᵘⁿᶜᵉᵈ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵇᵃʷˡᵉᵈ‧ "ᴴᵉ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃ ᶜʰⁱᶜᵏᵉⁿ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ⸴ ʰᵉ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵐᵉ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ˡᵉᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʳᵉˢᵗᵃᵘʳᵃⁿᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ʷᵒʳʳʸ‧ ᴺᵒʷ⸴ ˡᵒᵒᵏ!" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉ ʷᵃᵛᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ˢᶜᵃⁿⁿᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᵂʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ˢᶜᵃⁿ ˢᵃʸ⸴ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ?" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ‧ "ᶜᵒᵐᵃ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵗᵒᵒᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵘᵗᵗᵉʳ ˢʰᵒᶜᵏᵉᵈ ˢⁱˡᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᵒⁿᶜᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᶜᵃⁿˢ ⁱⁿᵈⁱᶜᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᶜᵒᵐᵃ‧ "ᴴⁱˢ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰˢ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʷᵉᵃᵏᵉʳ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍᵒᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵉᑫᵘⁱᵖᵐᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉˡᵖ ʰⁱᵐ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰᵉ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ⁱⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵉʸᵉ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵘⁿᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢⁿᵉˢˢ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵒᶠ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢʰᵘᵗ ᵒᶠᶠ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳˡᵈ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵒᶠ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʷᵉʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵒᵒᵈ ᵇᵘˢⁱⁿᵉˢˢ ˢᵖˡⁱᵗ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢʰⁱᵖ‧ "ᴬˢˢᵘᵐⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ⸴ ᵈᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ʰᵉ'ˡˡ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵈᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃᵈᵐⁱᵗᵗᵉᵈ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵈᵃʸ⸴ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᵉᵐᵖˡᵒʸᵉᵉˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᴷʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᴷʳᵃᵇ'ˢ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉᵈ ᵘⁿᵗⁱˡ ᶠᵘʳᵗʰᵉʳ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ⁿᵒ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ʰᵉ ˡᵃˢᵗ ˢᵃʷ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ʰᵉᵃʳ ᵐᵉ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ʷⁱˡˡ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵇˡᵃᵐᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵃⁿˣⁱᵒᵘˢˡʸ ᵗᵃˡᵏᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷʰᵒ'ˢ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵘⁿᵃʷᵃʳᵉ‧ "ᴵ ᵐⁱˢˢ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʷᵉ'ʳᵉ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢ⸴ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵐʸ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᵐᵒⁿᵉʸ ᶜᵒⁿˢᵘᵐᵉᵈ ᵐᵉ‧ ᴮᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ⁿᵒʷ ᵈʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˡˡ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵐᵉ‧ ᴵ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵐⁱˢˢᵉˢ ʸᵒᵘʳ ⁿᵃᵍᵍⁱⁿᵍ‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵃʷᵏʷᵃʳᵈˡʸ ˡᵉᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵃ ᵍⁱᵍᵍˡᵉ‧ "ᴵ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵐᵉᵃⁿᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵃ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿ‧‧‧" ᔆᵗᵃʳᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᶜʳʸ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ⸴ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᵘᵖ ᵒᶠ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳⁱᵉˢ‧ "ᴵ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱᵈᵉᵃ ᵗᵒ ᵖʳᵃⁿᵏ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᶜʰᵒᵒˡ ʷᵃˢ ˢᵒ ᶠᵘⁿⁿʸ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᶠᵃᶜᵉˢ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉᵈ‧ "ᵂᵉ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ'ᵛᵉ ˢʰᵒʷⁿ ᵒᵘʳ ᵖᵉᵉʳˢ ʰᵒʷ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʲᵒᵇ ᵈᵒⁿᵉ‧‧‧" ᶜʰᵘᶜᵏˡⁱⁿᵍ ⁿᵒʷ‧ "ᔆʰᵒʷ 'ᵉᵐ ʷʰᵒ'ᵈ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵃˢᵗ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰ‧‧‧" ᔆᵒᵐᵉ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ ʷᵉˡˡᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ⁱⁿ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵉʸᵉˢ‧ "ᴵ'ᵈ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ᵃˡˡ ᵐʸ ᵐᵒⁿᵉʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵐʸ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧" ᵀʰᵉ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵍʳᵃᵈᵘᵃˡˡʸ ʳᵉᵍᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢⁿᵉˢˢ ʰᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᶠᵃʳᵃʷᵃʸ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉ⸴ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵍⁿⁱˢᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵃˢ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ⸴ ⁿᵒʳ ʷʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ ˡⁱᵐᵇᵒˡⁱᵏᵉ⸴ ʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ʸᵉᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵘʳʳᵒᵘⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍˢ⸴ ᵉʸᵉ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ˢʰᵘᵗ‧ ᵀʰᵉⁿ ʷᵒʳᵈˢ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᶜˡᵉᵃʳᵉʳ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᶠᵃʳᵃʷᵃʸ‧ ᴴᵉ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳᵈˢ ˡⁱᵏᵉ 'ˢᵒʳʳʸ' ᵃⁿᵈ 'ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ' ᵃⁿᵈ 'ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ' ᵇᵘᵗ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ʷʰᵒ ˢᵖᵒᵏᵉ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ʷᵒʳᵈˢ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵐᵒⁿⁱᵗᵒʳᵉᵈ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ⸴ ˢᵒ ˢʰᵉ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ'ˢ ᵃ ᶜʰᵃⁿᵍᵉ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ᵈᵉᵗᵉᶜᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵖᵒˢˢⁱᵇˡᵉ ʳᵉᵛⁱᵛᵃˡ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʷᵃˢ ˢⁱᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ˢᵗʳᵃⁱᵍʰᵗᵉʳ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵐᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵉᵗ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ; ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʳᵉᵐᵒᵛᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵉᑫᵘⁱᵖᵐᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ⁱᵗ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᶜʳⁱᵉˢ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵐᵉ ˡᵉˢˢ ᵈⁱˢᵗᵃⁿᵗ ˢᵒᵘⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵉⁿˢᵉˢ ʳᵉᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ‧ ᴺᵒʷ ʷᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᵐᵃⁿᵃᵍᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶠˡᵘᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ‧ "ᴬᵘ‧‧‧" ᔆⁱᵍʰᵗ ʳᵉᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗ ʸᵉᵗ ʳᵉᵍⁱˢᵗᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ʷʰᵒ'ˢ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᵂʰᵃᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ‧‧‧" ᶠⁱⁿᵃˡˡʸ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ⸴ ʰᵉ ˢᵃʷ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵐⁱˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵗ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʳᵉᵐᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ ᶜᵒⁿᶠᵘˢᵉᵈ‧ "ᴴⁱ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ! ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ?" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢʷᵉᵉᵗˡʸ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ‧ "ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵃʸ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏⁱⁿᵍ?" ᴬˢᵏᵉᵈ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ‧ ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ ⁿᵒᵗ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵉᵗᵉˡʸ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ⁿᵒʳᵐᵃˡ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ʰᵃʳᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢᵗʳᵘᵍᵍˡᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʳᵉᵐᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ ᵍʳᵒᵍᵍʸ‧ ᴹᵉᵐᵒʳⁱᵉˢ ˢᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿˡʸ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵃˢ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ ᶜʰⁱᶜᵏᵉⁿ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵇᵉᵗʷᵉᵉⁿ⸴ ⁿᵒʳ ʰᵒʷ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ʰᵃˢ ᵖᵃˢˢᵉᵈ‧ ᴴᵉ ⁿᵃʳʳᵒʷᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢᵃⁱᵈ "ᶜʰⁱᶜᵏᵉⁿ" ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉᵐ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᵖʳᵒᶜᵉᵉᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʰⁱᵐ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶜʳⁱᵉᵈ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʳᵉᵃᶜʰᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗᵒ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ⸴ ʷʰᵒ ᵉᵐᵇʳᵃᶜᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᶠᵒʳᵐᵉʳ ᵉⁿᵉᵐʸ‧ "ᴵ ᶠᵒʳᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧"

ᴬˢᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ "ᴵᵗ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃʸ ⁱⁿ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵉ‧ ᴺᵒ ʷᵒⁿᵈᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ᵐⁱˢᵉʳᵃᵇˡᵉ! ᴮᵉᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ᵒʳ ᶜᵃᵗᶜʰ ᵘᵖ ʷⁱᵗʰ‧‧‧" "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᴵ'ᵐ ᵈᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᶠⁱⁿᵉ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ʷⁱᶠᵉ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ᵗᵉˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ!" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˡᵉᵃᵈˢ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ˢᵒᶜⁱᵃˡⁱˢᵉ‧ 'ᵂʰᵒ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉˢᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵃ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ᵒᶠ ᵐⁱⁿᵉ' ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ‧ 'ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵃᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʰᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵘⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵉᵃᵐʷᵒʳᵏ' ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵃˢ ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳⁱᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ᵏⁱⁿᵈⁿᵉˢˢ ᵉʳᵘᵖᵗᵉᵈ‧ ᴴᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵒᵐᵉ‧ "ᴴᵒᵐᵐⁱⁿᵃ—ʷᵃʰ?" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃʷᵒᵏᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ʰᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠʳᵒⁿᵗ ᵈᵒᵒʳ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵒᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷᵃⁿᵗˢ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵇᵒⁿᵈ ˢᵒ ᴵ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ⁿⁱᶜᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉˢᵗ ᴵ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵃ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ˡᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ⁱⁿ‧ "ᴵ ʷᵃˢ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃʳᵏ‧ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ʷᵃⁿᵗˢ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ᵃ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵘᵉ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ʰᵉˡᵖ ˢᶜᵘˡᵖᵗ!" ᔆᵒ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃʳᵗ ˢᵘᵖᵖˡⁱᵉˢ ⁿᵉᵉᵈᵉᵈ‧ "ᴵᵗ ᵗᵃᵏᵉˢ ᵃ ᵈᵃʸ ᵒʳ ˢᵒ ᵗᵒ ᵈʳʸ ᵒⁿᶜᵉ ⁱᵗ ᶠⁱⁿⁱˢʰᵉᵈ⸴ ˢᵒ ʷᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵗᵘʳⁿˢ ᵍᵘᵃʳᵈⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᵗ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ "ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵈᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵃʳᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵃᶜⁱᵃˡ ᵈᵉᵗᵃⁱˡˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵃⁿᵈˡᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵗʳᵘᶜᵗᵘʳᵉ‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ˢᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵃˢᵉ‧ "ᴰᵉᵃˡ!" "ᔆᵒ ʷᵉ ᵉᵃᶜʰ ᵍᵘᵃʳᵈ ⁱᵗ ᵃ ᵈᵒᶻᵉⁿ ʰᵒᵘʳˢ ᵖᵉʳ ᵗᵘʳⁿ ᵃᵗ ᵃ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ‧ ᴵ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵍᵒ ᵗᵉˡˡ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ˢᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵏⁱᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ'ˢ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗᵃʸᵉᵈ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ˢᵉᵉ ⁱᵗ ⁿᵒʷ ᵒʳ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʷᵃⁱᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ⁱᵗ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱⁿⁱˢʰ ᵈʳʸⁱⁿᵍ?" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢʰⁱᶠᵗᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈ ʷᵃʳᵈ ᵖᵒⁿᵈᵉʳᵉᵈ‧ "ᴵ ᵇᵉᵗ ˢᑫᵘⁱˡˡⁱᵃᵐ'ˢ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵍᵒ ᵈᵉˢᵗʳᵒʸ ⁱᵗ‧‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵍᵘᵃʳᵈⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᵗ ᵃˢ ʷᵉ ˢᵖᵉᵃᵏ ˢᵒ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᵗʳᵘˢᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ?" ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷᵉᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃʳᵏ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵖᵃᶜᵉᵈ ˡᵒᵒᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ⁱᵗ‧ "ᴵᵗ'ˢ ᵐᵒˢᵗ ᵉˣᑫᵘⁱˢⁱᵗᵉ ᵃʳᵗ ᵖⁱᵉᶜᵉ ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ˢᵉᵉⁿ!" ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ˢⁱᵍʰˢ‧ "ᴶᵘˢᵗ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵗʳʸ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᴵ'ᵈ ʷᵃˢᵗᵉ ᵐʸ ᵉⁿᵉʳᵍʸ ᵒⁿ ᵈᵉˢᵗʳᵒʸⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᴵ ʰᵉˡᵖ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵘⁱˡᵈ?" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵃᶜᶜᵘˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᶠ ᵃᵗ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ‧ "ᴼʰ ʷᵃⁱᵗ ʷᵉ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᵍᵒ ᵗᵒ ʷᵒʳᵏ ⁿᵒʷ! ᔆᵉᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ˢʰⁱᶠᵗ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃⁿᵈ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃʳᵏ‧ "ᵀʰᵃⁿᵏˢ ᶠᵒʳ ʷᵒʳᵏⁱⁿᵍ ˡᵃᵗᵉ ᵇᵒʸˢ!" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᶜˡᵒˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉˢᵗᵃᵘʳᵃⁿᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧ 'ᴹʸ ᵗᵘʳⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵘᵃʳᵈ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈ ʷᵃʳᵈ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵘᵉ' ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ⸴ ᵉˣᶜⁱᵗᵉᵈˡʸ‧ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ'ˢ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵘᵉ‧ "ᵀⁱᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢʷⁱᵗᶜʰ ˢʰⁱᶠᵗˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵘᵃʳᵈ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃᵗ ˡᵉᵃⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿˢᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵃˢᵉ ᵃˢ ᵃ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ʳᵉˢᵗ ᵃˢ ʰⁱ ˢᵒᶠᵗ ˢⁿᵘᶠᶠˡⁱⁿᵍ ˢⁿᵒʳᵉˢ ʷᵉʳᵉ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ‧ 'ᴺᵒʷ ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʰᵒʷ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ʷʰᵉⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᴵ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʲᵒᵇ' ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ‧ "ᴵ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ‧‧" ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗᵉᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ⸴ ᵇᵉᵍʳᵘᵈᵍⁱⁿᵍˡʸ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ ⁿᵉʳᵛᵒᵘˢˡʸ ᵃˢ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵇᵉⁿᵗ ᵈᵒʷⁿ‧ "ᴴᵉʸ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ‧‧" ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ʳᵘᵇᵇᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ᵒᶠ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵃˢ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ˢⁿᵒʳⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ᵉʸᵉᵇʳᵒʷ ᶠᵘʳʳᵒʷˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ⁿᵒᵗ ʷᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵉᵗ‧ "ᵁᵖ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃᵗᵒᵐ‧‧" ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ "ᴴᵐᵐᵐ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᴳᴱᵀ͏ ᵁᴾ!" ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ʸᵉˡˡᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗˡᵉᵈ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ ᶠᵃˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵃˢⁱᵈᵉ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ˢᵗᵃⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵘᵖ‧ "ᵂʰᵃ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ˢᵘᵖᵖᵒˢᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵍᵘᵃʳᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐʸ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵘᵉ!" "ᴵ'ᵐ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵍᵘᵃʳᵈ ⁱᵗ ⁿᵒʷ ˢᵒ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ⸴ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏ ᵗᵒⁿ ᵈⁱᶻᶻⁱⁿᵉˢˢ ˢᵘᵇˢⁱᵈᵉᵈ‧ "ᔆᵒʳʳʸ‧‧" "ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃⁿʸ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ ˢᵒ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ⁱⁿ ᵒⁿᶜᵉ ᵐʸ ʰᵒᵘʳˢ ᵉⁿᵈ‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ⁱⁿᶠᵒʳᵐˢ‧ "ᴵ'ˡˡ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵒᵒᵏ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʳᵉᵖˡⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧ "ᴵ'ᵈ ᵇᵘⁱˡᵗ ʰᵉˡᵖᵉᵈ ᵃ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵘᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁿᵒᵈᵈᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ʰᵉˡᵖᵉᵈ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ "ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ‧‧" "ᴵ'ᵐ ᵍˡᵃᵈ; ᵍᵉᵗ ᵃ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ'ˢ ʳᵉˢᵗ!" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢⁱᵗᵘᵃᵗᵉᵈ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵃᵖᵖⁱˡʸ ᵖᵃᵗʳᵒˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵘᵉ‧ "ᴵ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵈʳʸ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʸˢ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒᵘᶜʰᵉᵈ ⁱᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵃˢ ᵈʳʸ‧ "ᴬˡˡ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ!" ᴴᵉ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ "ᴺᵒ ᵈᵃᵐᵃᵍᵉ ᵃˢ ᶠᵃʳ ᵃˢ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵗᵉˡˡ‧‧" "ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ'ˢ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵇᵉ ˢᵒ ʰᵃᵖᵖʸ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵗᵉˣᵗᵉᵈ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ‧ "ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ!" ᔆᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵒᵖ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵍˡᵉᵉ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵒᶠ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ˢᵒᵐᵉʰᵒʷ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵈᵒʷⁿ‧ 'ᴴᵉ ⁱˢ ˢᵒ ⁿⁱᶜᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵃˡˡ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ ʰⁱˢ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢ‧ ᴵᶠ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᴵ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʰᵒʷ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉᵉˡˢ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵈᵉᵉᵖ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ⁱⁿˢⁱᵈᵉ' ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵒ ⁱᵐᵖᵒʳᵗᵃⁿᵗ‧ 'ᴵᶠ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᴵ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵒ ʰᵃᵖᵖʸ ᵗᵒ' ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵈᵉᵖʳᵉˢˢⁱⁿᵍˡʸ‧ ᴴᵉ ˢᵃʷ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ʳᵘⁿ ᵗᵒ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵘᵉ ᵃˢ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵇᵒᵘⁿᶜᵉᵈ ˢᵐⁱˡⁱⁿᵍ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ᵃᶜᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ⁱᵐᵖʳᵉˢˢᵉᵈ; ⁱᵗ ˡᵒᵒᵏˢ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵈʳʸ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵒⁿᵍⁱⁿᵍˡʸ ˢᵃʷ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵃˢ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵖᵃᵗˢ‧ "ᴼᶠ ᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘ!" "ᴼʰ; ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏˢ‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵃ ᵇᵉˢᵗ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ᵒᶠ ᵐⁱⁿᵉ⸴ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ! ᶜᵃⁿ ᴵ ᶜᵃˡˡ ʸᵒᵘ ᵐʸ ᵇᵉˢᵗ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ?" "ᴵᶠ ᴵ ˢᵃʸ ʸᵉˢ⸴ ʷⁱˡˡ ʸᵒᵘ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵖʳᵒᵐⁱˢᵉ ᵐᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵃʸ ⁱᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵖᵘᵇˡⁱᶜ?" ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᔆᑫᵘᵉᵃˡⁱⁿᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʲᵒʸ⸴ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵉᵐᵇʳᵃᶜᵉ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵃᵐᵃᶻⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ᵗᵒ ʷᵉˡˡ ᵘᵖ ⁱⁿ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ; ʰᵉ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ˡⁱᵏᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᶜʳʸ‧ 'ᴵ ᵈᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʰᵒʷ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵐᵃᵏᵉˢ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵒ ʰᵃᵖᵖⁱᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ᴵ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ' ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵖᵒⁿᵈᵉʳᵉᵈ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ˡᵉᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵃ ˢᵒᵇ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ ᵃʷᵃʸ ˢᵒ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗⁿ’ᵗ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉ‧ ᶠᵉᵉˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ᵗᵒ ᶠᵃˡˡ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵇʸ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳ ᵃ ᵗʳᵉᵉ‧ "ᵂʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ᵘᵖ ʷⁱᵗʰ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵍᵒ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ ᵒⁿ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵃⁿ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ʰᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗʳᵉᵉ‧ ᴴᵉ ˢᵃʷ ʰⁱᵐ ʰᵘᵍᵍⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵏⁿᵉᵉˢ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ʰᵒˡᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ʷʰⁱᵐᵖᵉʳˢ‧ ᴺᵒᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵒʷ ᵗᵒ ᵃᵖᵖʳᵒᵃᶜʰ ʰⁱᵐ⸴ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵒᵛᵉʳˡʸ ᵃᶠᶠᵉᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿᵃᵗᵉ ⁿᵒʳ ᵃˢᵏ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗᵒᵘᶜʰ ᵉᵛᵉʳ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʷ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵒᵒᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵒⁿᶜᵉʳⁿᵉᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᴵ ˢᵉᵉ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵒ‽" "ᵂᵉˡˡ ᵈᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵃⁿʸ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵈᵒ?" "ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵉᵉᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˢᵒ ᵍˡᵃᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ‧‧‧" "ʸᵉᵃ ʰᵉ'ˢ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵃ ᵇʳᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢⁱᵍʰᵉᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᶜʳʸ‧ "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉˢᵗ ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵃ ᵇᵉˢᵗ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ᵖᵒˡⁱᵗᵉ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵒˡᵉʳᵃᵗᵉ ᵐᵉ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᵃ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰ‧ "ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰᵒʷ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃⁿᵍ ᵒᵘᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘ ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿⁿᵒᵗ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵍᵒ ᵃ ᵈᵃʸ ʷⁱᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ᵃʳᵍᵘⁱⁿᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐʸ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴵ ʰᵃᵈ ᵖʳᵒᵍʳᵃᵐᵐᵉᵈ! ᴵᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵖʳᵉᵗᵉⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵐʸ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵃⁿʸ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵃᵇᵉ ᵗᵒ‧‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ⁿᵒ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃ ᵏⁱˢˢ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵒʳᵉʰᵉᵃᵈ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵗᵃˡᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵃᵐ ᵃᶠʳᵃⁱᵈ ᵒᶠ ⁱʳʳⁱᵗᵃᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ‧ ᴵᵗ'ˢ ʰᵃʳᵈ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴵ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ'ᵈ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᵐᵉᵃⁿ ⁱᵗ?" "ᴼᶠ ᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ‧‧‧"

ᴵⁿ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᴰʳᵉᵃᵐˢ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ‘ᴳᵒᵒᵈ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ! ᴳᵘᵉˢˢ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᴵ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠᵃᵛᵒᵘʳⁱᵗᵉ!’ ᴴᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇˢ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉ, ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉᵈ‧ ‘ᴷʳᵃᵇᵇʸ ᴾᵃᵗᵗⁱᵉˢ!’ ‘ᵀᵒ ᵘˢ‧‧’ ‘ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ?’ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ’ˢ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗᵉᵈ‧ ᔆᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿˡʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵃ ᵗᵃᵖ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈᵉʳ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧ “ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ!” ᴴᵉ ˢⁿᵃᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ, ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ’ˢ ʰᵘᵍᵍⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᵖⁱˡˡᵒʷ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵒᵗ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ⁱᵗ’ˢ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵗʳᵘᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵉⁿᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵗᵒᵍᵉᵗʰᵉʳ, ᵐᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵖᵃᵗᵗⁱᵉˢ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵈʳᵒᵒˡⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿˢᵗᵉᵃᵈ‧ “ᴶᵘˢᵗ ᵍᵉᵗ…” “ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ; ᴵ’ᵐ ᵘᵖ!” ᴴᵉ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ‧ ‘ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ⁱˢ ᵃ ᵇᵘˢⁱⁿᵉˢˢ ʳⁱᵛᵃˡ ʷʰᵒ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ˡᵃˢᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢʰⁱᵖ’ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵐⁱⁿᵈˡᵉˢˢˡʸ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ ʷⁱᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ᵃ ᵖˡᵃⁿ ᵒʳ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵐᵒᵗⁱᵛᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ! ᴴᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˢⁿᵘᶜᵏ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᵈⁱᵈ ʰⁱˢ ʲᵒᵇ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳⁱˡˡ‧ “ᵂᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ᵗᵉᵃᵐ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ‧‧” ˢⁱⁿᵍˢ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ, ⁿᵒᵗ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ ᵒᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ‘ᴳᵉᵗ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵖʳⁱᵈᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵃˢᵏ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ⁱᵗ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ʷⁱᵗʰ! ʸᵒᵘ ʷⁱˡˡ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵈᵒ ᵃⁿʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˢᵗᵃⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ’ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ‧ ᴷⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵉⁿᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵏⁱᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵇᵘᵗ ʳⁱˢᵏⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᵗ, ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ “ᴴᵉʸ, ᵏⁱᵈ…” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ “ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ…” “ᴵ ʷⁱˡˡ ⁿᵒᵗ ᶠᵃˡˡ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ, ˢⁱˡˡʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ!” “ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ…” ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗᵉᵈ‧ “ᴼᶠ ᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ ⁱᵗ’ˢ ʸᵒᵘ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ; ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁿ!” ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ‧ “ᴵ…” “ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ᵇᵉˡᵒⁿᵍ ʰᵉʳᵉ; ᵍᵉᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ!” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᵖᵒⁱⁿᵗᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵖᵃᵗᵘˡᵃ ᵃᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃˢ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵗʰʳᵉʷ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ʸᵉˡˡ ⁱⁿ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵃ ʷᵃʸ‧ “ᴼʰ ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈ…” ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ʷᵒʳᵏ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˢᵗᵃʸᵉᵈ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ʰᵉ ˡᵃⁿᵈᵉᵈ ⁿᵉⁱᵗʰᵉʳ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ʰᵒᵐᵉ ⁿᵒʳ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᴷʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ‧ ᴴᵉ ˢᵃᵗ ʳᵉˡⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᶜᵉⁿᵉ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶜʳⁱᵉᵈ‧ ᴴᵉ ˡⁱᵏᵉᵈ ʰᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᶜʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵃⁿ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ; ʸᵉᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵃˢ ˢᵗⁱᶠˡⁱⁿᵍ ʷʰⁱᵐᵖᵉʳˢ ᵃᵗ ‘ʸᵒᵘ ᵈᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵇᵉˡᵒⁿᵍ ʰᵉʳᵉ’ ʳⁱⁿᵍˢ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ‧ ᴴᵉ’ˢ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ, ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʳⁱˢᵏˢ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ‧ ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵃˢ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿᵃˡˡʸ ʰᵘʳᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃˢ ˢᵘᶜʰ‧ ᴼᶠ ᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ, ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᶠᵒⁱˡ ʰⁱˢ ᵖˡᵃⁿˢ ᵃᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ, ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵈⁱᵈ ˢᵒ ʷⁱᵗʰ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴺᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿ ʰᵒʷ ʰᵉ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃʷᵉ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵏⁱᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ ᵂⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ˢⁱᵍʰ ʰᵉ’ᵈ ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ‧ ᶠᵒʳ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ‧ ᴬᵗ ᶜˡᵒˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ, ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʷ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ‧ “ᴼʰ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ…” ˢʰᵉ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ‧ “ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ, ʷʰᵃᵗ…” ᔆʰᵉ ʰᵉˡᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵃ ⁿᵒᵗᵉ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ˢᵃʸˢ ‘ᴵ ʰⁱᵗ ʳᵒᶜᵏ ᵇᵒᵗᵗᵒᵐ ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉ ᴵ ᵈᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵉᵉᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ‧ ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵈᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵇᵉˡᵒⁿᵍ ˢᵒ ᴵ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ⁱᵗ ᵇᵉˢᵗ‧ ᴺᵒ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ˢᵗʳᵉˢˢᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵐᵉ ᵃⁿʸ ˡᵒⁿᵍᵉʳ; ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ’ ᔆᵃⁱᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵒᵗᵉ‧ “ᴴᵉ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᴷʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ʰᵃᵛᵉⁿ’ᵗ ʸᵉᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉ! ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ʰᵉ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉ?” “ᴵ’ᵐ ˢᵒ ˢᵒʳʳʸ; ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ‧‧” ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰᵉʳ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ˢʰᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃʸ’ˢ ᵉᵛᵉⁿᵗˢ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ ʰᵒʷ ᵇᵃᵈˡʸ ʰᵉ ᵗʳᵉᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ‘ᵂᵃⁱᵗ, ʰᵉ ᵖᵘᵗ ʳᵒᶜᵏ ᵇᵒᵗᵗᵒᵐ…’ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵃⁿ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵘˢ ˢᵗᵒᵖ‧ ᴿᵒᶜᵏ ᴮᵒᵗᵗᵒᵐ’ˢ ᵃⁿ ᵘⁿˢᵉᵗᵗˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ, ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵏⁿᵉʷ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵉᵛᵉⁿᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ˢᵃʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ˢᵒ ᵇᵃᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ, ʰᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵒᶠᵗ ᶜʳⁱᵉˢ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵏᵉᵖᵗ ˢᵒᵇᵇⁱⁿᵍ‧ “ᴼʰ, ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧” ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵃˢᵖᵉᵈ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵃˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵉᵗᵉˡʸ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵒᵛᵉʳʷʰᵉˡᵐᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵉᵐᵒᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᵒᵛᵉʳ, ʰⁱˢ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵐᵒᵛᵉᵐᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵃʳᵉˡʸ ʳᵒᶜᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵒʳᵗʰ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʷʰⁱᵐᵖᵉʳᵉᵈ‧ “ᴵ’ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ!” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵃⁿ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʷ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˡᵉᵃⁿ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ʰⁱᵐ‧ “ᴵ ʷᵃˢ ʷʳᵒⁿᵍ‧ ᴵ ʷᵃˢ ᵇᵘˢʸ, ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ⁱˢⁿ’ᵗ ᵃⁿʸ ᵉˣᶜᵘˢᵉ ᵗᵒ ʰᵘʳᵗ ʸᵒᵘ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ᵐᵉ ʰᵃᵖᵖʸ; ᵒ ˢᵒ ʰᵃᵖᵖʸ!” “ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ᵇᵉˡᵒⁿᵍ…” “ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵉˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵃˢ ᵃⁿʸ ᵒᶠ ᵘˢ‧ ᴵ’ᵈ ʳᵃᵗʰᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ, ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿⁿᵒᵗ ⁱᵐᵃᵍⁱⁿᵉ ˡⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ᵃⁿʸ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ! ᵂᵉ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ʸᵒᵘ; ᴵ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧” ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵉᵗ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢⁱᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʳⁱᵈᵉ ʰᵒᵐᵉ, ᵉˣᵖˡᵃⁱⁿⁱⁿᵍ ʷʰʸ ʰᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ‧ ᴴᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ʳᵉˡᵃˣᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵈʳᵒʷˢʸ ᵃˢ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵉˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵘˢ ʳⁱᵈᵉ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʷ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧ ᴴᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖʸ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵉⁿᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ⁿᵒʷ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ˢⁱᵈᵉ‧

~ uH oH mY oNeS aNd ZeRoS look Like TEN. TEN. TEN. TEN. TEN. TEN.

☆ 𝓝𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻 𝓵𝓮𝓽 𝓪 𝓵𝓲𝓽𝓽𝓵𝓮 𝓶𝓪𝓷 𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓻𝓸𝓵 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓵𝓪𝓻𝓰𝓮 𝓮𝓰𝓸. ☆

ᴳᵉᵗ ᔆˡᵉᵉᵖʸ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ “…ᶜᵃⁿⁿᵒᵗ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ…” ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒʷ ᵗᵉˡˡˢ ʰⁱˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧ ᔆᵒ ˢʰᵉ ᵐᵃˢˢᵃᵍᵉˢ ʰⁱᵐ, ʰᵘᵐᵐⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ˢᵒᶠᵗ ᵗᵘⁿᵉ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵗᵉˡˡ ⁱᵗ ʰᵉˡᵖᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ˢⁱⁿᵍⁱⁿᵍ ʷʰᵉⁿᶜᵉ ʰᵉ ˢⁿᵒʳᵉᵈ‧ “ᴳᵒᵒᵈ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧‧” 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: 𝟓𝟎 𝐬𝐞𝐜.

ᵀʰᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿˢ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉʳ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᵇᵉᵈ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉᵈ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵃˢᵗ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ‧ "ᔆᵒʳʳʸ ⁱᶠ ᴵ ˢⁿᵃᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵉᵃʳˡⁱᵉʳ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴵ ʸᵉˡˡᵉᵈ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵉˡˡˢ ʰᵉʳ‧ ᴵᵗ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵘⁿʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵗᵒ ʳᵃⁱˢᵉ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵒᵛᵉʳˡʸ ᵒᵘᵗʷᵃʳᵈˡʸ ᵃᶠᶠᵉᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿᵃᵗᵉ ᵗᵒ‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿ ᵉᵐᵒᵗⁱᵒⁿᵃˡ ᵒʳ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ˢᵉᵉᵐᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵈᵃⁿᵍᵉʳ⸴ ʰᵉ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ‧ ᴱᵃʳˡⁱᵉʳ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ⸴ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ⁿᵉʷ ⁱⁿᵛᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᶠᵃⁱˡᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ‧ "ᴵ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵃⁿᵈ ᶠʳᵘˢᵗʳᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ʲᵘˢᵗ ⁿᵉᵉᵈᵉᵈ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵒʷⁿ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ ᶠᵒʳ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗʰᵉ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ⸴ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠᵃᵘˡᵗ‧ ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵉⁿᵉʳᵍʸ ᵗᵒ ᵏᵉᵉᵖ‧‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᴵ ᵃᵐ ˢᵘʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈⁱᵈ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵇᵉˢᵗ‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ᵈᵒⁿᵉ ⁿᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ʷʳᵒⁿᵍ; ᴵ ˡ⁻ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧" "ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ⸴ ᵐʸ ᵈᵉᵃʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ‧ ᴺᵒʷ ʷᵉ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᵒᵘᵍʰᵗᵗᵃ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵃ ᵈᵃʸ‧‧‧ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ?" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʰᵉᵃʳˢ ʰⁱᵐ ˢⁿᵒʳⁱⁿᵍ ⁿᵒʷ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᵃᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ᵖᵃʳᵗ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁿᵒʳᵐᵃˡˡʸ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ʷʰᵒ'ˢ ᵐᵒˢᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵏᵉ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ⁿᵒʷ⸴ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᶠᵃˡˡᵉⁿ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ‧ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᵒᶠ ⁱᵗ⸴ ˢʰᵉ ˡᵃˢᵗ ˢᵃʷ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᑫᵘⁱᵗᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃᵍᵒ ʷʰᵉⁿ ˢᵗᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ˡᵃᵗᵉ ᵐᵒᵛⁱᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ; ᵃ ᵇᵉⁿᵈʸ ˢᵗʳᵃʷ ⁱⁿ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ᵒᶠ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉⁿ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵍˡᵃᵈ ⁿᵒʷ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢⁿᵒʳᵉᵈ‧ "ᔆʷᵉᵉᵗ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐˢ‧‧" ᔆʰᵉ ʷʰⁱˢᵖᵉʳˢ⸴ ʰᵒᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵐᵃⁱⁿ ⁱⁿ ᵖᵉᵃᶜᵉᶠᵘˡⁿᵉˢˢ‧ ╰ ✧ ･ﾟ∙ ∗ — ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ ⟨ 2 4 8

ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉʳ ᵃᵛᵉʳᵃᵍᵉ ᵈᵃʸ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᴵ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉⁿ ᵉᵃᶜʰ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧ ᴹʸ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵘᵖ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵐᵉ⸴ ᵐᵒˢᵗ ˡⁱᵏᵉˡʸ ʷᵒʳᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵒʳ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ‧ ᴴⁱˢ ᵐᵃⁱⁿ ᵍᵒᵃˡ ⁱˢ ᵗᵒ ʳᵘⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵉⁿᵉᵐʸ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵇᵘˢⁱⁿᵉˢˢ‧ ᴵ ᶠⁱˣ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵏᶠᵃˢᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵉⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵃⁿʸ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵃⁱⁿᵗˢ ᵗᵒ‧ ᴵ ʳᵉᵐⁱⁿᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗʳᵃˢʰ‧ ᴵ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ʰⁱˢ ᵖˡᵃⁿˢ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵍᵉᵗˢ ᵐᵃᵈ ᵉᵃˢⁱˡʸ‧ ᴴᵉ ʷᵃⁿᵗˢ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵇⁱᵍ ᵒʳ ᵃᵗ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵐᵃˡˡ‧ ᔆᵒ ᴵ ᵗʳʸ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒᶠᶠ ⁱᶠ ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ‧ ᔆᵒᵐᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ʷᵉ ᵇⁱᶜᵏᵉʳ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᶜᵃˡᵐ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵒʳ ᴵ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵉⁿᵈ ᵘᵖ ᶠᵒʳᶜⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒᵘᵗᵈᵒᵒʳˢ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃᵗ ˡᵘⁿᶜʰ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵍᵒᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵘⁿᶜʰ ʳᵘˢʰ ᵃᵗ ʳⁱᵛᵃˡ ʳᵉˢᵗᵃᵘʳᵃⁿᵗ ᴷʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᴷʳᵃᵇ‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ᶠᵃⁱˡˢ ᵃᵗ ˢᵗᵉᵃˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ ʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵉˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ‧ "ᵀᵒˡᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵒ" ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵍʳᵉᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵃʳᶜᵃˢᵗⁱᶜᵃˡˡʸ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵈᵒ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵖᵘˢʰ ⁱᵗ ʷʰᵉⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵉˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ᵐⁱˢᵉʳᵃᵇˡᵉ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵉ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᶜʳᵘˢʰᵉᵈ‧ ᴵ ᵗʳʸ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉˡᵖ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗᵉⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵒᵈ‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿ ⁱᵗ ᵍᵉᵗˢ ᵗᵒ ᵉᵛᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ ʷᵉ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵒᵘʳ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ‧ ᔆᵒᵐᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ⁱᶠ ʰᵉ ʷᵃⁿᵗˢ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃʸ ʷᵒʳᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᴵ ᵐᵃʸ ᵍᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᵐʸ ᵍᵃˡ ᵖᵃˡˢ‧ ᴼᵗʰᵉʳʷⁱˢᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵉᵃᵗˢ ᵈⁱⁿⁿᵉʳ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒᵍᵉᵗʰᵉʳ‧ ᴴᵉ ˡᵒᵛᵉˢ ᵐᵒᵛⁱᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ ᵍᵉᵗˢ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ᵒⁿᵉ‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᵇᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵉᵗˢ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʰⁱᵐ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵗᵘᶜᵏⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ⁱⁿ‧ ᴵᶠ ᴵ'ᵐ ˡᵘᶜᵏʸ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ᵐᵉ ᵃ ʰᵘᵍ ᵒʳ ᵏⁱˢˢ ⁱᶠ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒᵒᵈ‧ ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʰᵉ ᵈᵉᵉᵖ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ˡᵒᵛᵉˢ ᵐᵉ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢʰᵒʷ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵃᶠᶠᵉᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ‧ ᴰᵉᵖᵉⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ʰᵒʷ ᵉˣʰᵃᵘˢᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃʸ ʷᵃˢ⸴ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᶜᵃʳʳʸ ʰⁱᵐ ˡⁱᶠᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ ᴵ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵗʳʸ ᵗᵒ ᵏᵉᵉᵖ ᑫᵘⁱᵉᵗ ʷʰᵉⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ʰᵉ'ˢ ʷᵃⁿᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ˢᵒ ᵃˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ʳⁱˡᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵘᵖ‧ ᴬᵗ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᵇᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˢᵒᶠᵗˡʸ ˢⁿᵒʳᵉ ʷʰᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᴵ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʰⁱᵐ ʰᵒʷ ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴬˢ ᶠᵒʳ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ʰᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵃᵈ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗᵐᵃʳᵉˢ⸴ ᴵ ᵗʳʸ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵏᵉⁿ ᵘᵖ ᵍᵉⁿᵗˡʸ ʷⁱᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗˡᵉ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴵ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᵈᵒ ᵐʸ ᵇᵉˢᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵒᵒᵗʰᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᶜᵃˡᵐˡʸ ⁱⁿ ʰᵒᵖᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉˡᵃˣ ʰⁱᵐ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗᵒ ᶠᵃˡˡ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉ ʳᵘᵈᵉ ᵃᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʰᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉ ᵃ ˢᵒᶠᵗⁱᵉ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ʷᵃʸ; ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉⁿᵈ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃʸ ʷᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵃˡˡ ᵃʷᵃʳᵉ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ʷᵉ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵉᵃᶜʰ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ‧

ᴳᵉᵗ ᵁᵖ 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: 𝟏 𝐦𝐢𝐧. ⁽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 ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵇᵘᵈᵍᵉ⸴ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ᵃʲᵃʳ‧ "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‧ "ᴳᵘᵉˢˢ 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‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵒᵏᵉ ⁿᵃᵗᵘʳᵃˡˡʸ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ᵃˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵘᵖ‧ "ᵂʰᵃᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ⁱˢ ⁱᵗ?" "ᵀⁱᵐᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᵘˢ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵘᵖ!" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃⁿˢʷᵉʳᵉᵈ‧

ᔆⁱᵈᵉ ᵇʸ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᴼⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᶠ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʰʳᵉʷ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳᵃᵖᵖˡⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵒᵒᵏ ᵃˢ ⁱᵗ ᵃᵗᵗᵃᶜʰᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᶠ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ‧ ᔆᵉᶜᵘʳⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᵗ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍᵒᵗ ᶻⁱᵖ ˡⁱⁿᵉ ᵐᵉᶜʰᵃⁿⁱˢᵐ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʲᵘᵐᵖᵉᵈ ˢˡⁱᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ᵈᵒʷⁿ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵃʷ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃᵇᵒᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵃᵈ ʷʰᵉⁿ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵖᵉ ˢᵗʳⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ ˢᵉᵛᵉʳᵉᵈ ⁱᵗ‧ ᶠᵃˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ʰᵉᵃᵈᶠⁱʳˢᵗ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰⁱᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵃʳᵈ ᶜᵉᵐᵉⁿᵗ ᵒⁿᶜᵉ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵈᵒʷⁿ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵒⁿ ᵇˡᵘʳʳᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵃᵈᵉᵈ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ⁿᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍⁿᵉˢˢ⸴ ᵘⁿᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ ⁱᵗ ᵃˡˡ ᵘⁿᶠᵒˡᵈ ʰᵉˡᵖˡᵉˢˢˡʸ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᶠʳᵒᶻᵉ ᵃˢ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᶠᵒʳᵐ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵖᵖᵃʳᵃᵗᵘˢ ʰⁱᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵃʷᵃʸ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ʳᵉˢᵗᵃᵘʳᵃⁿᵗ ˡᵉᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᴴⁱˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵃᵗᵒˢᵉ ᵇᵒᵈʸ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉᵃʳᵗ ᵇᵉᵃᵗ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ˢᵘʳᵉ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ˢʰᵒʷ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ⁱⁿᵈⁱᶜᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵒᶠ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳʷⁱˢᵉ⸴ ⁿᵒʳ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ʰᵉ ᵃᶜᵏⁿᵒʷˡᵉᵈᵍᵉ ˢᵘʳʳᵒᵘⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍˢ ᵃˢ ᵈᵉᵃᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳˡᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᶜᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵈᵉᵃᵈ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵃᶜᵗ ᵒʳ ᵈᵒ ᵃⁿʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˢᑫᵘᵉᵉᶻᵉ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ‧ "ᵂᵉ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵗʳᵉᵉᵗ ᵃᵗ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷᵉʳᵉ ʰᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ⸴ ˢᵒ ʰᵉ ˢᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘᶜʰ ᵃˢ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵐᵒᵉᵇᵃ ᵖᵘᵖᵖʸ ᵗʳᵒᵗˢ ᵒᵛᵉʳ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ʷʰⁱᵐᵖᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵏⁱˢˢᵉˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ʳᵉˢᵖᵒⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵒᵗˢ ˡⁱᶜᵏⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢˡⁱᵍʰᵗᵉˢᵗ! "ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ᵇʳᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʰᵒᵐᵉ‧‧" ᶜʳⁱᵉᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵉᵃʳˡⁱᵉʳ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍⁱʳˡˢ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ᵗᵉˣᵗᵉᵈ 'ˢᵒʳʳʸ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ⁱˢ ⁱⁿ ˢᵉⁿˢᵉˡᵉˢˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵃ' ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵉˣᵗᵉᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵈᵉˢᵖᵉʳᵃᵗᵉ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵃᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᶠˡⁱⁿᶜʰ ᵒʳ ˢʰᵒʷ ᵐᵒᵛᵉᵐᵉⁿᵗ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿᵉʳ‧ "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵇᵃᵈ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ʷᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ ˢᵗʳᵉᵃᵐ ᵈᵒʷⁿ‧ "ᴵ ʷᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ᵘᵖ ᵒⁿ⸴ ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉʷʰᵉʳᵉ ⁱⁿ‧‧" ᔆᵒᵇᵇⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖᵃᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵃʳᵐ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ʰⁱˢ ˢⁱᵈᵉ‧ ᴹᵉᵃⁿʷʰⁱˡᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵃⁿᵈʸ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᶜʰᵃᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ‧ "ᴺᵒᵗⁱᶠⁱᶜᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᴵ'ᵈ ˢⁱˡᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᵐʸ ᵖʰᵒⁿᵉ! ᴼʰ ʰᵒʷ ᵈᵃʳᵉ ʰᵉ‧‧‧" ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢᵗᵒᵖˢ ᵃˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ᵉˣᵖʳᵉˢˢⁱᵒⁿ ᶜʰᵃⁿᵍᵉᵈ‧ "ᔆᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵐᵘˢᵗ ᵇᵉ ʷʳᵒⁿᵍ‧‧‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ʰᵘʳᵗ‽ ᔆᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵃᵈ ᵐᵘˢᵗ'ᵛᵉ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ‧" ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷᵉᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧ "ᵂʰᵉʳᵉ'ˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ?" ᵀʰᵉʸ ˢᵃʷ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵇᵃʳᵏᵉᵈ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉᵐ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶻⁱᵖ ˡⁱⁿᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵒʷ ʰᵉ ᵉⁿᵈᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵈᵉᵉᵖˡʸ ᵘⁿᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵉᵗᵉˡʸ ˡⁱᵐᵖ‧ "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᶜᵃⁿ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᵒʳ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ?" ᔆʰᵉ ᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ⸴ ᵉˣᵃᵐⁱⁿⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴺᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ʷᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵈᵒ ᵗᵒⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵇᵉ ᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ʳᵒᵘˢᵉ ᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢⁿᵉˢˢ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃᵗ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳⁿᵒᵒⁿ‧‧" ᔆᵃⁱᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ˢᵃʷ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ˢᵃᵈ ʷᵃᵍ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᵗᵃⁱˡ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵖᵘˡˡᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵃ ᶜʰᵃⁱʳ ᵇʸ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃᵈʲᵃᶜᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘᶜʰ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵃᵗ‧ ᴴᵉ ʰᵉˡᵈ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ˡᵃᵖ‧ "ᴴᵉˡˡᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ; ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ⁿᵒ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵐᵉ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ ˡⁱᵏᵉˡʸ ᵗᵒ ⁱᵐᵖʳᵒᵛᵉ! ᵂᵉ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧" ᵀʰᵉ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵉⁿˢᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵍᵃⁱⁿ ʷᵃˢ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵘᶠᶠˡᵉᵈ ˢᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵒᶠ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ʷᵃʸ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ "ᴵ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃᵈᵒᵖᵗᵉᵈ ˢᵖᵒᵗ‧‧" ᔆᵃⁱᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵇʸ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ ʸᵉᵗ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈⁿ'ᵗ ˢᵘᵐᵐᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉⁿᵉʳᵍʸ ᵗᵒ ʳᵒᵘˢᵉ ⁿᵒʳ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ʸᵉᵗ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵃˢⁿ'ᵗ ᵃˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵃᵗᵒˢᵉ ᵃˢ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵍⁿⁱˢᵉᵈ ˢᵖᵒᵗ'ˢ ᵇʸ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᵉᵃᵍᵉʳ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵉʸᵉˡⁱᵈ ᵇᵃʳᵉˡʸ ᵗʷⁱᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉᵈ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵃˢᵖᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵉˣᶜⁱᵗᵉᵐᵉⁿᵗ ᵘᵖᵒⁿ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵐᵒᵛᵉᵐᵉⁿᵗ‧ "ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ᵐⁱˢˢᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʷʰᵒᵐ ʷᵉ ᵃˡˡ ᵏⁿᵒʷ‧‧‧" ᶜᵒᵃˣᵉᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉᵍⁱⁿ ʷᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ‧ ᴴᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ⁿᵘᵈᵍᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵘⁿᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵃᶜᵗ ᵈⁱʳᵉᶜᵗˡʸ‧ ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢⁱᵍʰᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢˡᵒʷˡʸ ᵒᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᵗᵒ‧ ⱽⁱˢⁱᵒⁿ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵒ ᵇˡᵘʳʳʸ ⁿᵒʷ ʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵇᵃʳᵉˡʸ ˡⁱᶠᵗ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ‧ "ᴹᵐ‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧" "ᵁᵒʸ⸴ ʷʰᵃ?" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵇˡⁱⁿᵏᵉᵈ‧ "ᵂʰᵉʳᵉ‧‧" ᶠᵉᵉˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵍʳᵒᵍᵍʸ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵃˡˡ ᶠⁱⁿᵃˡˡʸ ʳᵉᵍⁱˢᵗᵉʳᵉᵈ‧ "ᴼᵘ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵘˡˡ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉ ˢʰᵃʳᵖᵉʳ‧ "ᵂʰᵉʳᵉ⸴ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ; ᵍᵃʰ⸴ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵈ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ "ᵂʰᵃ⸴ ʷʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ‽" ᴴᵉ'ᵈ ᶠⁱⁿᵃˡˡʸ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ᶠᵘˡˡ ˢᵉⁿᵗᵉⁿᶜᵉ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᶻⁱᵖ ˡⁱⁿᵉ ᵇᵘᵗ ᶠᵉˡˡ; ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ˢᵘʳᵉ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᶜᵃʳᵉ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᵃˡˢᵒ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘ‧" ᴬⁿˢʷᵉʳᵉᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧ "ᴵᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ ʸᵉˢᵗᵉʳᵈᵃʸ⸴ ˢᵒ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵗʳᵒᵏᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵃʳᵐ‧ ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ ᵗᵒ ᵈⁱᶻᶻʸ ᵗᵒ ˢⁱᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵉᵗ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵉˡᵖ ʰⁱᵐ ᵘᵖʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ˢᵒ ᵃˢ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵃ ᵈʳⁱⁿᵏ ᵒᶠ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ‧ "ᵀʰᵃⁿᵏˢ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵐᵃⁿᵃᵍᵉᵈ‧ "ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵖᵃᶜᵉ?" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ‧ "ᔆᵗᵃʸ‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ˡᵉᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ‧‧‧" "ᴵ'ᵐ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʳᵉˢᵗ⸴ ʰᵒˡᵈ ᵐʸ ʰᵃⁿᵈ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ⸴ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ᵇʸ ˢⁱᵈᵉ‧

Fandom: SpongeBob SquarePants (Cartoon) Relationship: Karen/Sheldon J. Plankton Characters: Karen (SpongeBob)Sheldon J. Plankton Language: English https://archiveofourown.org/works/53451349 My Tiny Genius RibbonDee Summary: After a long day of once again trying and failing to steal the Krabby Patty Secret Formula, Plankton is feeling down in the dumps. It's up to Karen to cheer him up.

ᔆᵃᶜʳⁱᶠⁱᶜⁱⁿᵍ ⤥ 𝐂𝐖:𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐯𝐢𝟎𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ pt. 1 ⤥ 𝐂𝐖:𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐯𝐢𝟎𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵃˢ ʳᵘⁿⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵘᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵉᶜʳᵉᵗ ᵇᵒᵗᵗˡᵉ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵇᵘᵇᵇˡᵉ ᵇᵃˢˢ ʷᵃˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵃⁱⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ᵖᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵖⁱᶜᵏˡᵉˢ! ᵂʰʸ ˢᵒ ᵐᵃⁿʸ ᵖⁱᶜᵏˡᵉˢ? ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ᵖⁱᶜᵏˡᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳˢᵉˡᶠ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵃˢ ᵃ ᵗᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵃʷᵃʸ⸴ ᵇᵃᶜᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵃʷᵃʸ ᵃˢ ᵇᵘᵇᵇˡᵉ ᵇᵃˢˢ ᵗʰʳᵉᵃᵗᵉⁿᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵇᵉ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ‧ ᴱᵛᵉⁿ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ‧ ᴾⁱᶜᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵃᵖᵏⁱⁿ ᵈⁱˢᵖᵉⁿˢᵉʳ⸴ ᵇᵘᵇᵇˡᵉ ᵇᵃˢˢ ʷᵃˢ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰᵘʳᵗ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵛᵉ‧ "ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᶜᵃᵗᶜʰ!" ᴴᵉ ʸᵉˡˡᵉᵈ⸴ ᵗʰʳᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵗᵗˡᵉ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵉᵗʷᵉᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ'ˡˡ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵉᵃˡ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐᵉ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ!" ᴬⁿᵍʳⁱˡʸ⸴ ᵇᵘᵇᵇˡᵉ ᵇᵃˢˢ ᵘˢᵉᵈ ᵃˡˡ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵗʳᵉⁿᵍᵗʰ ᵗᵒ ᶜʰᵘⁿᵏ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵃᵖᵏⁱⁿ ᵈⁱˢᵖᵉⁿˢᵉʳ‧ ᔆᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ʰᵘʳˡ ⁱᵗ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗᵒᵒᵈ ⁱⁿ ᶠʳᵒⁿᵗ ᵒᶠ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵃᵖᵏⁱⁿ ᵈⁱˢᵖᵉⁿˢᵉʳ ʰⁱᵗ ʰⁱᵐ⸴ ˢᵗʳⁱᵏⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ‧ ᴴᵃʳᵈ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʸᵉˡᵖᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ⁱᵗ ᵖᵒᵘⁿᵈᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ⸴ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ˡⁱᵐᵖ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵘⁿᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢ‧ ᴱᵛᵉⁿ ᵇᵘᵇᵇˡᵉ ᵇᵃˢˢ ˢᵗᵒᵒᵈ ˢⁱˡᵉⁿᵗˡʸ ⁱⁿ ˢʰᵒᶜᵏ⸴ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵉᵗᵉˡʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵘᵗᵗᵉʳˡʸ ᵏⁿᵒᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵃⁿ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶜʳⁱᵉᵈ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵘˢʰᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵘˢᵗᵒᵐᵉʳˢ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ 'ᶜˡᵒˢᵉᵈ' ˢⁱᵍⁿ‧ ᴱᵛᵉⁿ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᶜᵒⁿᶜᵉʳⁿᵉᵈ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵍᵒ ᵖᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵗᵗˡᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵐᵉ ˢᵃᶠᵉ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵈᵃᵐᵖ ᶜˡᵒᵗʰ ʳᵃᵍ ʷⁱᵖᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵖᵘᵗ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᶠˡⁱⁿᶜʰ ᵒʳ ᵐᵒᵛᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢˡⁱᵍʰᵗᵉˢᵗ‧ "ᴴᵉ ˡᵒᵒᵏˢ ˡⁱᶠᵉˡᵉˢˢ⸴ ˢᵖʳᵃʷˡᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉᵐᵖˡᵒʸᵉᵉˢ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵉⁿˢᵉˢ ᵈⁱᵈ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ʳᵉᵗᵘʳⁿ⸴ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉᵇʳᵒʷ ᶠᵘʳʳᵒʷᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ᵇᵉᵍⁱⁿⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ‧ "ᴴⁱ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᵃ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵃˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᶠˡᵘᵗᵗᵉʳˢ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ‧ "ᴬᵃᵃ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵐᵃⁿᵃᵍᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵘᵗᵗᵉʳ‧ ᴴᵉ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵒᵛᵉ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ ˢʷⁱʳˡᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ˢᵗʳᵘᵍᵍˡᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵒᵐᵖʳᵉʰᵉⁿᵈ‧ "ᵁⁿ‧‧‧" "ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ˢⁱᵗ ᵘᵖ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ?" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵒᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉˡᵖᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵈʳⁱⁿᵏ ⁱᵗ‧ "ᴬʰᵘʰ⸴ ᵒʷ‧ ᵂʰᵃ‧‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ ˢˡᵒʷ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ˢᵃᶠᵉ‧ ʸᵒᵘ'ˡˡ ᵇᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᶠⁱⁿᵉ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ?" "ʸᵉˢ⸴ ᴵ'ᵐ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘ‧ ᴵ ᵍᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘ‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵘᵐᵐᵒⁿ ˢᵗʳᵉⁿᵍᵗʰ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵗᵃⁿᵈ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ⁿᵒᵗ‧ "ᴺᵒᵗ ˢᵒ ᶠᵃˢᵗ!" ᔆᵃⁱᵈ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ‧ ᴴᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱᵐᵖᵃᶜᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ʰⁱᵗ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ⁱⁿᵗᵉⁿˢᵉ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃᵘᵍʰᵗ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴰᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵉˡᵖᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵉᵗᵗˡᵉ‧ "ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᶜᵃⁿ ᴵ ᵍᵒ ʰᵒᵐᵉ ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵒᵘʳ ᶜˡᵒˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ?" "ʸᵉˢ ᴹʳ‧ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ‧" ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵇᵉⁿᵗ ᵈᵒʷⁿ‧ "ᴶᵘˢᵗ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ˢᵘʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵍᵉᵗ ʷᵉˡˡ ʳᵉˢᵗᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧" ᴴᵉ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ˡᵉᶠᵗ‧ "ᶜᵃⁿ ᴵ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ᵗᵃˡᵏ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃ ᵐᵒᵐᵉⁿᵗ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵉ?" "ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵇᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵐᵉ ᵒᶠᶠⁱᶜᵉ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ˢᵖᵃᶜᵉ‧ "ᴵ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵇᵘᵇᵇˡᵉ ᵇᵃˢˢ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵗᵗˡᵉ ᴵ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʰᵘʳᵗ ʸᵒᵘ⸴ ᴵ ˢᵃʷ ʰⁱᵐ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵃᵖᵏⁱⁿ ᵈⁱˢᵖᵉⁿˢᵉʳ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᵉⁿᵈᵃⁿᵍᵉʳᵉᵈ ʸᵒᵘʳˢᵉˡᶠ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ᵘᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵗᵗˡᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵐᵉ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰʸ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ˢᵃᵈ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʷ ʰⁱᵐ ᶜʳʸⁱⁿᵍ‧ "ᵂᵉ'ᵛᵉ ˢᵖᵉⁿᵗ ʰᵃˡᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵈᵃʸ ᶠᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳˢᵗ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᶜᵒˡᵈ ᵃˢ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒᵗ ʰⁱᵗ‧ ᔆᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵉʸᵉ ʳᵒˡˡ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵘᵍᵍᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴰᵒⁿ'ᵗ ˢᑫᵘᵉᵉᶻᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗⁱᵍʰᵗˡʸ ʰᵃʳᵈ!" "ᔆᵒʳʳʸ‧‧‧" "ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ʰᵒˡᵈ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᶠᶠⁱᶜᵉ‧ "ᴳᵒᵗᵗᵃ ˡᵒᶜᵏ ᵘᵖ⸴ ᵇᵒʸ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵒᵐᵉ?" "ʸᵉˢ⸴ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ ˢᵗᵃʸ‧‧‧" "ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʷ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᵇʳⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ⁱⁿ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵇʳᵘⁱˢᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵉᵃᵈ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵐᵒᵉᵇᵃ ᵖᵘᵖᵖʸ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍʳᵉᵉᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿᵉʳ‧ "ᴼʰ‧‧‧" "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᴵ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ᵐʸ ˢⁱᵈᵉ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵉˡᵖᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵒᶠᵃ‧ "ᴬ ᶜᵘˢᵗᵒᵐᵉʳ ʷᵃˢ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃʳᵐ ᵐᵉ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱⁿʲᵘʳʸ‧‧‧" "ᴵ‧‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ˡᵉᵗ ᵐᵉ ᶠⁱⁿⁱˢʰ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ‧ ᔆᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵘˢᵗᵒᵐᵉʳ ᵗʰʳᵉʷ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈˢ ᵒⁿ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰᵉʳ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵐᵉ ⁿᵃᵖᵏⁱⁿ ᵈⁱˢᵖᵉⁿˢᵉʳ⸴ ˢᵗᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ ʳᵉᵈ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ʰᵉ ᵇˡᵉᵉᵈ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‽" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶜᵃᵘᵍʰᵗ ʰᵉʳ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰ‧ to be cont. Pt. 2

ᔆⁱᵈᵉ ᵇʸ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᴼⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᶠ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʰʳᵉʷ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳᵃᵖᵖˡⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵒᵒᵏ ᵃˢ ⁱᵗ ᵃᵗᵗᵃᶜʰᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᶠ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ‧ ᔆᵉᶜᵘʳⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᵗ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍᵒᵗ ᶻⁱᵖˡⁱⁿᵉ ᵐᵉᶜʰᵃⁿⁱˢᵐ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʲᵘᵐᵖᵉᵈ ˢˡⁱᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ᵈᵒʷⁿ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵃʷ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃᵇᵒᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵃᵈ ʷʰᵉⁿ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵖᵉ ˢᵗʳⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ ˢᵉᵛᵉʳᵉᵈ ⁱᵗ‧ ᶠᵃˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ʰᵉᵃᵈᶠⁱʳˢᵗ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰⁱᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵃʳᵈ ᶜᵉᵐᵉⁿᵗ ᵒⁿᶜᵉ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵈᵒʷⁿ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʷ ᵃⁿᵈ ʳᵃⁿ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʰⁱᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ⸴ ˢᵗᵃⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᵘᵖ‧ ᴴᵒʷᵉᵛᵉʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵉʸᵉ ʳᵒˡˡᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵘᵗᵗᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵃ ⁿᵒⁱˢᵉ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡˡ⸴ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃᵗᶜʰⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᶠᵃⁱⁿᵗ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵃʷᵃʸ ˡᵉᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉᵐ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵃˢ ᵘⁿᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵍᵃⁱⁿ ᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢⁿᵉˢˢ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᴸⁱˢᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ ⁱⁿ ᵈᵉˢᵖᵉʳᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷᵉʳᵉ ʰᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᵍⁱʳˡˢ ᵗʳⁱᵖ⸴ ˢᵒ ʰᵉ ˢᵉᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵒᵈʸ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘᶜʰ ᵃˢ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵐᵒᵉᵇᵃ ᵖᵘᵖᵖʸ ᵗʳᵒᵗˢ ᵒᵛᵉʳ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ʷʰⁱᵐᵖᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵏⁱˢˢᵉˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ʳᵉˢᵖᵒⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵒᵗˢ ˡⁱᶜᵏⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢˡⁱᵍʰᵗᵉˢᵗ! "ᴵ ᵇʳᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʰᵒᵐᵉ‧‧" ᶜʳⁱᵉᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ ᵀʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ⸴ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ ˢᵗʳᵉᵃᵐ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᶠᵃᶜᵉ‧ "ᴾˡᵉᵃˢᵉ ᵒʰ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧" ᔆᵒᵇᵇⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖᵃᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵃʳᵐ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ʰⁱˢ ˢⁱᵈᵉ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵖᵘˡˡᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵃ ᶜʰᵃⁱʳ ᵇʸ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃᵈʲᵃᶜᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘᶜʰ‧ ᴴᵉ ʰᵉˡᵈ ˢᵖᵒᵗ‧ "ᴵ'ˡˡ ˢᵖᵉⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ˢᵒ ʷᵉ'ˡˡ ᵇᵉ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ᵇʸ ˢⁱᵈᵉ‧‧" ᵀʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃʷᵒᵏᵉ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ "ᴳᵒᵒᵈ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵈᵉᵃʳ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ! ᴵ ʰᵒᵖᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵉᵗ ᶠᵉᵉˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿʸ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ‧ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵐⁱˢˢᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵘˢ!" ᴷⁱˢˢⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᶠᵒʳᵉʰᵉᵃᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃᵗ ᵇʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ "ᔆʰᵒʷ ᵐᵉ ᵃ ˢⁱᵍⁿ‧‧‧" ᶜʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ⸴ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵃᵈ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ ʷᵃⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ‧ "ᵂʰᵃᵗ ᵇᵒᵒᵏˢ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ᵃ ᵇᵒᵒᵏ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵃᵇˡᵉ‧ "ᴬ ᵇᵒᵒᵏ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ⁿᵘᶜˡᵉᵃʳ ᵖᵒʷᵉʳ‧‧" ᶜʰᵘᶜᵏˡᵉᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ˢⁱᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ "ᴵ'ˡˡ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵍⁱⁿⁿⁱⁿᵍ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵒᵗ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ʰⁱˢ ᵖʰᵒⁿᵉ‧ 'ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ? ᴵ ᵃᵐ ᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʰᵒᵘˢᵉ‧‧' ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ᵃⁿˢʷᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵖʰᵒⁿᵉ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ!" ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ʰᵃⁿᵍⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʰᵒⁿᵉ⸴ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵇᵒᵒᵏ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵃˡᶠ ᵒᶠ ⁱᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵖᵃʳᵗⁱᶜᵘˡᵃʳˡʸ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ᵏᵉᵖᵗ ᵒⁿ ʳᵉᵃᵈⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ‧‧ ᴾᵉᵗˢ ᵃʳᵉ ˢᵐᵃʳᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶜᵃⁿ ˢᵉⁿˢᵉ⸴ ˢᵒ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵃ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ⁱᵐᵐᵉᵈⁱᵃᵗᵉˡʸ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ⁿᵘᵈᵍᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵈᵉᵗᵉᶜᵗᵉᵈ ˢˡᵒʷˡʸ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢᵘʳᵉˡʸ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵛᵉʳʸ‧ "ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ˡᵒᵛᵉˢ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵒ ᵐᵘᶜʰ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵒ ᵈᵒ ᴵ‧ ᵂᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ʷᵉˡˡ‧ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ˢᵒ ᵃᵐᵃᶻⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᴺᵒ ᵐᵃᵗᵗᵉʳ ʷʰᵃᵗ⸴ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵃ ᵖʳᵒᵐⁱˢᵉ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡⁱᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵏᵉⁿ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᵇᵃʳᵏᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʷ ʰⁱᵐ ᶠⁱⁿᵃˡˡʸ ˢʰᵒʷ ˢˡⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵐᵒᵛᵉᵐᵉⁿᵗ ᵃˢ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᵇᵃʳᵏᵉᵈ‧ "ᴸᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧" ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒ ᵖʳᵒᵘᵈ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠⁱⁿᵃˡˡʸ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵏᵉⁿ ᵘᵖ⸴ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᶠˡᵘᵗᵗᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ‧ "ᵂʰᵃᵗ ᵃʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ⁻ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ʷᵉ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ʰᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ʰᵘʳᵗ‧ "ʸᵃᵒ⸴ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ; ʷʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ‽" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᔆᵃⁱᵈ⸴ ᵈᵃᶻᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ʷᵉᵃᵏ‧ ᴶᵘˢᵗ ᵗʰᵉⁿ⸴ ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ⁱⁿ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵇᵒᵃʳᵈ ᵍᵃᵐᵉ‧ "ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ‧‧" "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᴵ ᵇʳᵘⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵃᵐᵉ!" ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ᵖˡᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉᵐ‧ "ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ᵘˢ ᵃ ᵐᵒᵐᵉⁿᵗ ᴾᵃᵗ?" "ᔆᵘʳᵉ‧‧" ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ᵖˡᵃʸᵉᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ˢᵖᵒᵗ‧ "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᶜᵒⁿᶠᵘˢᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍʳᵒᵍᵍʸ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍᵒᵗ ʰᵘʳᵗ‧ ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵉˡˡ ᵐᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ?" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵉˡᵖᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢⁱᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᵘᵖ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ʷᵃˢ ᵈⁱˢᵒʳⁱᵉⁿᵗᵉᵈ‧ "ᵀʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᶠ ᵒᶠ ʳᵉˢᵗᵃᵘʳᵃⁿᵗ'ˢ‧‧" "ʸᵉˢᵗᵉʳᵈᵃʸ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˢⁱᵈᵉ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ᵃˡˢᵒ ˢᵗᵃʸᵉᵈ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ᵇʸ ˢⁱᵈᵉ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᴵ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᴵ ʷᵃˢⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵒᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵖˡᵃʸ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱᵐ‧" "ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵉᵉ ᵐᵉ ᵃˢ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ?" "ᴼᶠ ᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ! ᴺᵒʷ ˡᵉᵗ'ˢ ˢᵉᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵍᵃᵐᵉ ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ'ˢ ᵍᵒᵗ‧‧" "ᴰᵒᵉˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵖˡᵃʸ?" "ᵂᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵗʳʸ ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ'ˢ ⁿᵉʷ ᵍᵃᵐᵉ!" "ᶠⁱⁿᵉ ᴵ ᵍᵘᵉˢˢ‧‧" "ᶜᵃⁿ ᴵ ᵃˢᵏ ʸᵒᵘ ʷʰʸ ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵉˡᵖ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰᵃᵈ ᵃ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ᶠᵃˡˡ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ⁿᵒʷ! ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ⁿᵒʳᵐᵃˡ ʸᵉᵗ ˢᵒ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵒʳʳʸ‧‧" "ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ʳᵒˡˡ ᵈⁱᶜᵉ ᶠᵒʳ?" "ᴳᵒ ᵃʰᵉᵃᵈ‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ⸴ ʷʰᵒ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᵗᵒˢˢᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈⁱᶜᵉ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈⁱᶜᵉ ᵘⁿⁱⁿᵗᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿᵃˡˡʸ ʰⁱᵗ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵈᵃᶻᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ᵐᵒᵐᵉⁿᵗ‧ "ᵂᵃᵗᶜʰ ⁱᵗ!" ᴴᵉ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ʷᵉᵃᵏˡʸ‧ "ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵃᵐᵉ'ˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉˢᵗ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵒʷ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃⁿᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ⁿᵒᵗ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵛᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ⸴ ᶠʳᵘˢᵗʳᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʰᵘʳᵗ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ʰᵉˡᵖ?" ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ "ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʰᵉˡᵖ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢⁿᵃᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ‧ "ᴵ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ʰᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗˢ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵛᵉʳ⸴ ᴾᵃᵗ‧ ᴵ'ˡˡ ᶜᵃᵗᶜʰ ᵘᵖ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃᵗ ᵃⁿ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵘᵍᵍᵉᵈ ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ‧ ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ⸴ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵃˢ⸴ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ ʷᵉˡˡ ᵘᵖ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ‧ "ᵂʰᵃᵗ ⁱˢ ʷʳᵒⁿᵍ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵘᵖ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘᶜʰ!" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃʳʳⁱᵛᵉᵈ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʰᵉʳ ᵗʳⁱᵖ‧ "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ! ᴼʰ ᴵ ᵃᵐ ᵍˡᵃᵈ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵉˣᵖˡᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʷ ʰⁱˢ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᵃˢ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉʳ‧ "ᴴᵉʸ‧‧" "ᴴⁱ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ; ᴵ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʸᵉˢᵗᵉʳᵈᵃʸ!" "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵉˡᵖᵉᵈ ᵐᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ ᶜᵃⁿ ʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃʸ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ?" "ᴵ ˢᵘʳᵉ ʷⁱˡˡ!"

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 𝟓𝟕𝟎 “Plankton can you at least come out and do the dishes?” Karen says. Her husband Plankton has been working at his desk, trying to plan and scheme. She brought him his meals for the past two days. He stayed up all night! “Honey?” No response. So she decided to go check on him. She goes to peek through the door. Plankton sat at his desk, slumped over, fast asleep. She saw his head nodded to the side, resting on his arm. A soft snore echoed in the silence. She noticed he was drooling a bit from his open mouth onto a stack of crumpled papers. Karen approached him. "Plankton," she cooed, placing her hand on his shoulder. He didn't budge. Karen gently shook him, but his snores grew louder. “C’mon, sweetie, time to wake up.” She whispered, but his sleep was unyielding. With a gentle tug on the shoulder, she managed to pull his body upright, a line of drool still connecting his mouth to the paper. "Come on, Plankton," she said more firmly, this time her hand on his cheek, her thumb wiping away the drool, head lolling backward with a snort. “Plankton, darling, please come to bed. You have been working so hard. Let’s get some rest,” she urged with a smile. But Plankton was too deeply asleep to hear her soft voice. His eye remained closed. With a sigh, Karen decided to get him up out of this chair herself. She took his arm and began to lift his weight from the chair. Plankton's body resisted, his head falling to her side with a dull thud. Karen chuckled, his snoring now vibrating. She managed to get him out of the chair. "Just a few steps, love," she murmured, but Plankton's snores grew like a crescendo in an orchestra. His limp body leaned into her like a ragdoll with no bones. She hoists him up on her shoulder, his arm dangling loosely, his snores growing rhythmic like a lullaby in a cartoon. The room was a mess, papers scattered like tiny white waves across the ocean of their living room. She stepped over them carefully, not wanting to wake his slumbering form. His office chair screeched as she pushed it aside with her foot, the sound like nails on a chalkboard in the quiet of the night. Plankton's arm slid off Karen's shoulder. She giggled nervously, his snoring now a symphony of sounds. She readjusted her grip, his head lolling against her. "Almost there," she whispered, her cheeks flushed with a mix of love and exasperation. The bedroom door creaked open like the entrance to a secret passage. Plankton's snores were a gentle soundtrack to the silent dance of her struggle. The bed looked like a mountain from here. She took a deep breath, bracing herself for the climb. With his arm slung over her neck, his body limp, she began the ascent. Step by step, she inched closer. As she reached the bed, he slipped again, this time his head lolling back to hang over the edge of the mattress. “Oh no, you don’t!” she exclaimed, his weight making her stumble. With a laugh that was half exhaustion, half endearment, she tugged him up and laid him down gently. Karen watched his chest rise and fall in deep sleep. The room was dimly lit by the moon, his snores a soothing white noise in the quiet.

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.

ᵀᵒⁿˢⁱˡˡᵉᶜᵗᵒᵐʸ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ’ˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ᵒᵘᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒˡᵈ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵒʷ ʸᵉˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁱʳʳⁱᵗᵃᵗᵉ ʰⁱˢ ᵗʰʳᵒᵃᵗ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ᵃˡᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ’ˢ ⁿᵒʷ ʷᵃⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉʳʸ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ˡᵉᵃᵈ ʰᵉʳ ⁱⁿ‧ “ᴴᵉ’ˢ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵇᵉ ˢᵒʳᵉ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁱᶜᵉ ᶜʳᵉᵃᵐ ᶜᵃⁿ ʰᵉˡᵖ, ᵃˢ ʷᵉˡˡ ᵃˢ ᵇᵉᵈ ʳᵉˢᵗ ᵗᵒ‧ ʸᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉᵐᵒᵛᵃˡ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ʷᵉˡˡ‧” ᵀʰᵉ ⁿᵘʳˢᵉ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰᵉʳ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ⁿᵘʳˢᵉ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿᵉᵈ ‘ᵇⁱᵗᵉ ᵇˡᵒᶜᵏˢ’ ᵃⁿᵈ ‘ˢᶜᵃˡᵖᵉˡˢ’ ᵃⁿᵈ ‘ˢᵘᵗᵘʳᵉˢ’ ᵃⁿᵈ ‘ᵉˣᵖᵉᶜᵗᵉᵈ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳⁿᵃˡ ᵇʳᵘⁱˢⁱⁿᵍ’ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵃˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵇʸ ʰⁱˢ ˢⁱᵈᵉ‧ “ᴴⁱ ˢʷᵉᵉᵗˢ! ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ?” ᔆʰᵉ ˢᵐᵒᵒᵗʰᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵃⁿᵗᵉⁿⁿᵃᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ᵖʳᵒᵛⁱᵈᵉᵈ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵈʳⁱⁿᵏ‧ “ᵀʰⁱʳˢᵗʸ?” ᔆʰᵉ ʰᵉˡᵖˢ ʰⁱᵐ ˡᵉᵃⁿ ᵗᵒ ˢⁱᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵃ ˢⁱᵖ‧ “ᔆᵒ ʰᵉ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ⁱᵗ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ ᵈᵘᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉᵈ…” “ʸᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵒᶠᵗ ᵇˡᵃⁿᵈ ᵐᵉᵃˡˢ ᵗᵒ?” “ᶜᵒʳʳᵉᶜᵗ ᵐᵃ’ᵃᵐ‧” ᵀʰᵉʸ ˡᵉᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵍᵒ ᵒᵘᵗ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ᴴᵉ’ˢ ᶠᵃˡˡᵉⁿ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ˢʰᵃʳᵉᵈ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵗᵘᶜᵏᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᶠⁱᵍᵘʳᵉ ⁱⁿ‧ ‘ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ⁿᵃᵖˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵉᵗ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʷᵉ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉʳʸ’ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏˢ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉʳˢᵉˡᶠ‧ ᴱᵃʳˡʸ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵐᵉ ᵉᵛᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ‧ ‘ᵂʰʸ ⁱˢ ᵐʸ ᵗʰʳᵒᵃᵗ ʰᵘʳᵗ? ᵀʰᵉʸ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱˣ… ᴵ ᵃᵐ ⁱⁿ ᵐʸ ʳᵒᵒᵐ, ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵒˢᵖⁱᵗᵃˡ‧’ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵉᵉˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧ “ᴵᵗ’ˢ ⁿᵒʷ ʷᵒʳˢᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ; ˡᵉᵗ’ˢ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵍᵉᵗ ⁱᵗ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ʷⁱᵗʰ ˢᵒ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵍᵉᵗ…” “ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʸᵒᵘ, ʷᵉ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧ ᵂᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵉᵃʳˡⁱᵉʳ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ᵇʳᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ʸᵒᵘ’ᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖⁱⁿᵍ‧‧” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵉˡˡˢ ʰⁱᵐ‧ “ᵁᵖ ᶠᵒʳ ⁱᶜᵉ ᶜʳᵉᵃᵐ ʸᵉᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ?” “ʸᵉˢ!” ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ˢⁿᵃᶜᵏ, ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵗⁱʳᵉᵈ‧ “ᴳᵉᵗ ʳᵉˢᵗ, ᵃˢ ʸᵒᵘ’ʳᵉ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵛᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖʸ ᵐᵉᵈ…” “ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ‧” “ᵀʳʸ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃˡᵏ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ’ˡˡ ˡᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵉ‧” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ʰᵉ’ˢ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ, ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ᵖᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ ˢᵒᵐᵉ, ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈʳᵒᵒˡ ᵈʳⁱᵇᵇˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ “ᴳᵒᵒᵈ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ˢʷᵉᵉᵗˢ‧‧” 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟑𝟐𝟗

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."

ᔆʰᵃᵏᵉ ᵃ ᴸᵉᵍ ♡ Wₒᵣd cₒᵤₙₜ ₋ ₆₅₇ ♡ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ "ᴴᵉ'ᵈ ᵇᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵇʸ ⁿᵒʷ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʷ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʷⁱⁿᵈᵒʷ ʰⁱᵐ ᶠᵃᶜᵉ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ‧ ᴬᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᵇᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵇᵉᵗʷᵉᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉˢᵗᵃᵘʳᵃⁿᵗˢ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵃ ᶠᵃⁱˡᵉᵈ ˢᶜʰᵉᵐᵉ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ʰᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵐᵒᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵗ ᵃˡˡ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁿᵒʷ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ‧ "ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵒⁿ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧" ᴺᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴬᵗ ᵃˡˡ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ; ˢʷᵉᵉᵗˢ?" ᔆʰᵉ ᵘʳᵍᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ˢʰᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉˢ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ‧ "ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ‽" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ⸴ ʳᵒˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧ ᴬⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉⁿ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ˡᵉᵍ‧ "ᴼʰ⸴ ⁿᵉᵖᵗᵘⁿᵉ‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᶜᵃⁿⁿᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ˡᵘᶜᵏⁱˡʸ ʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵏ ⁿᵒʳ ᶠʳᵃᶜᵗᵘʳᵉ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵇʳᵘⁱˢᵉᵈ ˡᵉᵍ ˢʷᵉˡˡᵉᵈ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵇˡᵘⁿᵗ ᶠᵒʳᶜᵉ ᵗʳᵃᵘᵐᵃ‧ ᴰᵉᵉᵖ ˢᶜʳᵃᵗᶜʰᵉˢ⸴ ᵃˢ ʷᵉˡˡ‧ "ᴼʰ ᵈᵉᵃʳ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵇᵒᵈʸ ᵗʳᵉᵐᵇˡᵉᵈ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵃᵈˡʸ ʰᵘʳᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵇᵃʳᵉˡʸ ᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢ‧ "ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵉˡˡ ᵐᵉ ʷʰᵃ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵇ⁻ᵇᵘᵗ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵍ⁻ᵍᵒᵗ ˢᵖᵃᵗᵘˡᵃ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏⁱᵗᶜʰᵉⁿ ᵃ⁻ᵃⁿᵈ ʰ⁻ʰ⁻ʰᵘʳᵗ ᵐ⁻ᵐʸ ˡᵉᵍ ʰ⁻ʰᵘʳᵗˢ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵐᵘᵐᵇˡᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˡⁱˢᵗᵉⁿᵉᵈ ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵐⁱˡᵏ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵐⁱˡᵏ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵇᵉᵈ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵒᵖᵉᵈ ⁱᵗ'ᵈ ʰᵉˡᵖ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴴᵉ ˡᵉᵗ ʰᵉʳ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐⁱˡᵏ ʰᵉˡᵖⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᵈʳⁱⁿᵏ ⁱᵗ‧ "ᴶᵘˢᵗ ʳᵉˢᵗ‧" "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸ⁻ʸᵒᵘ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ᵉˡᵉᵛᵃᵗᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ⁿᵒʷ ᵇᵃⁿᵈᵃᵍᵉᵈ ˡᵉᵍ‧ "ᴵ ˡ⁻ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ˢ⁻ˢᵒ ᵐᵘᶜʰ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ ᴴⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ˢˡⁱᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉᵈ ˢʰᵘᵗ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ'ˢ ᶠᵃˡˡᵉⁿ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ʷʰᵉⁿ ˢʰᵉ ᵖᵘˡˡᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇˡᵃⁿᵏᵉᵗ ᶜᵒᵛᵉʳˢ; ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵇˡʸ ˡᵉˢˢ ᵗᵉⁿˢᵉ ᵃˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵒᵈʸ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ˡᵃˣ⸴ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ᵖᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ˢˡᵃᶜᵏ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˡᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵇᵉ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ⁿᵉᵉᵈᵉᵈ ʳᵉˢᵗ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵐⁱˡᵏ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ᵇᵉᵈ ᵒᵇᵛⁱᵒᵘˢˡʸ ʰᵉˡᵖᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ʷᵉˡˡ ᵃˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵉⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ⸴ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵇᵃʳᵉˡʸ ᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ⁱⁿ⸴ ˢᵒ ʰᵉ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵒⁿˡʸ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ʰᵃᶻʸ ᵈᵉᵗᵃⁱˡˢ⸴ ⁱᶠ ᵃⁿʸ‧ ᴬᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ⸴ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ˢᵗʳᵒᵏᵉ ʰⁱˢ ᵃⁿᵗᵉⁿⁿᵃᵉ ᵇʸ ʳᵘⁿⁿⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉʳ ᶠⁱⁿᵍᵉʳˢ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵇᵘᵗ⸴ ⁿᵒʷ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᶠᵒʳ; ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ˢᵗⁱᵐᵘˡᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ˢʰᵉ ʰᵉˡᵖᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ⸴ ʰᵉ'ˢ ⁱⁿ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵒᶠ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ⁿᵒʷ ˢᵒ ˢʰᵉ ˡᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᶠᶠ ʷᵒʳᵏ‧ "ᴴᵉʸ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ⸴ ᴵ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵍᵒ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵉᵉ ⁱᶠ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵗᵒʳˢ‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵗᵒᵒᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ ʷᵃʸ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ'ˢ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰᵉʸ⸴ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᶠˡᵘᵗᵗᵉʳˢ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ‧ "ᵁʳʳᵍʰ⸴ ʷʰᵃᵃᵃᵗ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ‧ "ᵁⁿʰ ʷʰᵉ⁻ʷʰᵉʳᵉ⸴ ʷʰᵃᵃ⁻ ʰᵃᵖ⁻ᵖᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ?" "ᴼʰ⸴ ˢʷᵉᵉᵗˢ‧‧ ʸᵒᵘ ⁱⁿʲᵘʳᵉᵈ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˡᵉᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵗ‧‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁿᵒʷ ʳᵘⁿⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᴴᵉ ʰᵘᵍˢ⸴ ʳᵉˢᵘˡᵗⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵍᵃˢᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ʰⁱᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ ʸᵉˡᵖ‧ "ᴴᵉʸ ᵉᵃˢʸ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵇᵃᵈˡʸ ʰᵘʳᵗ‧" "ᴼʰ; ˢᵒʳʳʸ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˡᵉᵗ ᵍᵒ‧ "ᴵᵗ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠᵃᵘˡᵗ ᵏⁱᵈ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ⸴ ʰᵉ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵉᵈᵍᵉᵈ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ᶜᵒⁿᵗⁱⁿᵘᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶜʰᵃᵗ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵘⁿʳᵉˡᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ'ˢ ᵉᵛᵉⁿᵗˢ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵗᵃˡᵏᵉᵈ ᵒᶠ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗᵉʳ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳᵉˢᵗˢ‧ "ᵂᵉˡˡ ᴵ ᵒᵘᵗᵗᵃ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ; ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʸˢ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ⁿᵒʷ‧ "ᴴᵒʷ'ˢ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˡᵉᵍ ᶠᵉᵉˡ?" "ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ ᵇᵃᵈ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ⁿᵉᵃʳˡʸ ᵃˢ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵃˢ ʷʰᵉⁿ ⁱ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵍᵒᵗ ⁱⁿʲᵘʳᵉᵈ‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒˡᵈ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ᶠᵃˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ‧ "ᴵ'ˡˡ ˡᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ʳᵉˢᵗ ⁿᵒʷ; ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ʷᵉˡˡ!" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ⸴ ˢᵐᵒᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵉᵈ ˢʰᵉᵉᵗˢ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ ᵒⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵘⁿᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ᵇᵉᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱˢ ˡᵉᵍ‧ ᴳᵒⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ˢʰᵉ ˢᵃʷ ʰᵉ'ˢ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᑫᵘⁱᵗᵉ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ ᔆᵒᵐᵉ ᵈʳᵒᵒˡ'ˢ ᶜᵒᵐⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈʳⁱᵇᵇˡᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵖⁱˡˡᵒʷ‧ ᔆᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗᵃᵇˡᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ⁿᵒʷ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ‧ ᴮʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ˢʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ⸴ ʰᵉ'ˢ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵈʳᵒᵒˡ ᵒⁿ ᵖⁱˡˡᵒʷ ᵈʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ʷⁱᵖᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉˢᵗ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᶠᵃᶜᵉ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᵗ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵘⁿʷʳᵃᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵃⁿᵈᵃᵍᵉ ᵗᵒ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˡᵉᵍ‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ᵘⁿʳᵃᵛᵉˡˢ ⁱᵗ‧ "ᴵᵗ ᶠᵉᵉˡˢ ʷᵉᵃᵏ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ˢᵉᵉ ᵐᵒˢᵗˡʸ ʰᵉᵃˡᵉᵈ!" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵉˣᶜˡᵃⁱᵐᵉᵈ‧ "ᴶᵘˢᵗ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵇᵉ ᶜᵃʳᵉᶠᵘˡ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖᵒˢᵗᵖᵒⁿᵉ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ; ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵍᵒ ʷᵒʳᵏ ⁿᵒʳ ᵍᵒ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ⸴ ʳᵒˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ‧ "ᴸᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ!"

https://m.fanfiction.net/s/13478844/1/I-Really-Do

BLUESCREEN Plankton’s thoughts were elsewhere as he focused the lens. More than once, he had to stop and blink blurriness out of his vision or rub the sleep out of his eye. He hadn’t slept regularly for days since he’d woken up from a brief three-hour nap this time yesterday evening, which did little to help his exhaustion. And now, here Plankton was. Miserable, sleep-deprived, and half-crazed with conflicting thoughts, peering blearily into a telescope at an absurd hour of the night. Argh! He bumped his head hard against the telescope to keep that thought from solidifying. Running on so little sleep Plankton glanced warily He looked at Karen’s darkened monitor for a moment with apprehension, expecting her to awaken from sleep mode and start in on him anew for sneaking around, but her screen remained dim. In response, a very loud whirring noise emitted from within her monitor, and Plankton tilted his head in confusion. She’d never made a sound like that before. Plankton stared numbly. “Honey bunch?” his voice is small, quavering. The next day Krabs found out she’s in hospital. It's amazing how much information Bikini Bottom Hospital would give out over the phone. Just supplying his name and fudging a little about his relationship to the couple was enough for Krabs to get the gist of what had happened last night, even including some details that had been omitted from the short entry in the morning paper. He took careful notes as he spoke with the nurse. Karen's condition was critical. Plankton had been given a mild sedative upon his arrival with Karen at the hospital. Doctors found him inconsolable; a perfect nervous wreck. They'd taken one look at him and deemed him both too emotional and sleep-deprived to be of much help answering questions. A little sleep never hurt anybody so far as the doctors were concerned. If you asked them, it was for his own good. Plankton had been so tired that the low dosage sedative had knocked him out nearly instantly. He hadn't budged in hours, and doctors predicted he'd stay down until at least late that afternoon. Krabs asked about the Hospital’s visitation hours while they were on the subject. He’d wanted to swing by that morning, but if Plankton was finally catching up on some much-needed rest, maybe he should put off on the visit. The last thing he wanted was to disturb him. The hours rolled by slowly after those difficult phone calls, and Krabs found himself pacing his office restlessly as he allowed Plankton a little time to catch up on his z’s. When the lunch rush started to wind down, Krabs retreated to his office. He placed another phone call to the hospital to see if Plankton was awake yet. The nurse confirmed that he was, and feeling better than he had been before when he first arrived last night. So Krabs arrived at their hospital room. Plankton was sitting close to the edge of Karen's wheeled bedside table. He lurched his head up off his hands with a funny-sounding snort; he must’ve been starting to doze off. Finally, Plankton spoke. His voice was tired. Resigned. “Oh hey Krabs.” “Wanna stay with me tonight?” Plankton was looking at Karen's monitor again, his antennae twitching in acknowledgment of Krabs’s words. Plankton thought about this for only a few seconds. Clearly, Krabs had gotten through to him or recovering from his recent sleeplessness was making him more agreeable. At least the extra long rest did him some good. Plankton was thoughtfully quiet beside him in the passenger seat. He peered up over the door to the quiet, still nighttime flowers overhead as the night rushed by. Krabs stole a glance at him now and then as he drove. He stooped down, offering Plankton his claw so he wouldn’t have to jump up the stairs. “Come on. Let me show you your room while you’re stayin’ over.” Plankton was sitting on the edge of Krabs’s hammock. The fabric barely dipped underneath him. “Uh, hey Eugene,” started Plankton as Krabs reached for the door. Krabs paused, with his back to him, listening. “Hmm?” “Goodnight.” Krabs looked over his shoulder and gave him a small smile. “Goodnight, Plankton.” Next day Plankton glanced over his shoulder at him. Krabs was glad to see he looked rested, despite having stayed in a strange place overnight. “Mornin’, Sheldon,” returned Krabs. “How’d ye sleep? Get any word from the hospital overnight?” “Slept okay, but not great. Strange place, you know? And no, not yet.” Krabs went upstairs to get dressed for work. He was pleased to see that his bedroom was almost exactly as he’d left it, other than the disturbed sheets where Plankton had slept the previous night. When he came back downstairs a few minutes later, Plankton was sitting on the couch with his chin resting on one hand, staring hard straight ahead with a thoughtful, worried look on his face.

░░░░░░░▒▓██████▓▒▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░ ████▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▓██▓▓▒▒▒▓▓██████░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒█▓██░░░░░░████░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░ █▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█████░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█▓▓▓█▓▓█░░█▓▓▓▓▓▒████▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░ ▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒██▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓█████░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█▓▓▓▓▓▓█░░█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░ ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒██▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓███▒▓░░░░░░░░░░░░░█▓▓▓▓█░░░█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░ ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▒▓████▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▒█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░ ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▓▓▓▓███▓░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░ ▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒███████████████████▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓▒▓▓▓████░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░███░░░░██░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░ ▒▒▒▒▒▒█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒████████████████████████████████▓▒▒▒▓▒▓▓▓▓▓███▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░██▓▒░░░░░░░██░░░░░░░░ ██▓▓▓▓█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒███████████████████████████████████████▒▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓██▒░░░░░░░░░░░░░░███░░░░░░░▓████░░░░░ ▒▒░░░█▓▒▒▒▒▒▒████████████████████████▓▒▓▓▓▓▒██████████████▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█████░░░░░░░░▒███░░░░░░▒███▒░░░░░ ▒▒▒▒▒█▒▒▒▒▒▒█████████████████████████████████▒███████████████▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓████▓░░▒███▓░░░░░░████▒░░░░ ▒▒▒▒██▓▓▓▓▓▓██████████████████████████████████▓██████████████████▓▒▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▒▓███▓███░░░░░░░░███░░░░ ▒▒▒▒█▓▓▓▓▓▓█████████████████████████████████████████████████████████▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒████░░░░░░░███▒▓▓░ ▒▒▒▒█▓▓▓▓▓████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█████▓░░░░▓███▓░░░ ▒▒▒▓█▓▓▓▓███████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒████░░░░░░░███░░░ ▒▒▒█▓▓▓▓▓████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████▒███▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓███░░░░░░████░░░ ▒▒▒█▓▓▓▓████████████████▓▓▒▓██████████████████████████████████████████▒████▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█▓████░░░░░████░░ ▒▒█▓▓▓▓▓██████████████████████▓▒█████████████████████████████████████████████▒▒▒▒▒▓█░███░░░░░░███░░░ ▒▒█▓▓▓▓███████████████████████████▒██████████████████████████████████████████▒▒▒▒▒██░▓██░░░░░░██▓░░░ ▒▒█▓▓▓▓██████████████████████████████▒███████████████████████████████████████▒▒▒▒▓██░░██░░░░░░██░░░░ ▒█▓▓▓▒█████████████████████████████████▒▓████████████████████████████████████▒▒▒▒██░░░██░░░░░░██░░░░ ▒█▒▒▒▒█████████████████████████████▒█████▓▓██████████████████████████████████▒▒▒██░░░░██░░░░░▓██░░░░ ▓█▒▒▒▓███████████████████████████████▓▒▒▒███████████████████████████████████▓▒▒▒█▒░░░█▓▓▓▓▓█░██░░░░░ █▓▒▒▒███████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████▒▒▒██░██████▓▓▓▓███░░░░░ █▒▒▒▒███████████████████████▒███████████████████████████████████████████████▒▒▒█▓█▓▓▓▓████▓▓▓██░░░░░ ▓▒▒▒▒███████████████████████▒██████████████████████████▒▓▓▓▓▒▒▒▒███████████▒▒▒▓█▓▓▓███████▓▓▓▓█░░░░░ ▒▒▒▒▒███████████████████████▓██████████████████████████████████▒███▓▒▒█████▒▒▒██▓█▓▓▓▓▓▓████▓▓▓█░░░░ ▒▒▒▒▒▓███████████████████████▒▒▒████████████████████████████████▒█▓▒▓█████▒▒▒██▓██▓▓▓▓▓▓▓███████░░░░ ▒▒▒▒▒▒███████████████████████▒▒▒▓▓███████████████████████████████████████▒▒▒▓█▓▓██▓██▓▓▓▓▓▓███▓█▓░░░ ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒█████████████████████▓▒▒▒▒▒▒██████████████████████████████████████▒▒▒█▓▓▓██████▓▓█▓▓█▓▓▓█▓░░░ ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓█████████████████████▒▒▒█▓▒████████████████████████████████████▒▒▒██▓▓██▓▓░▒░░██▓▓█▓▓▓█▓░░░ ██▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓███████████████████████████▓▒▒██████████████████████████████▓▒▒██▓▓▓█░░░░░░░░░▓██▓▓▓█▒░░░ ▒███▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒███████████████████████████████████████████████████████████▒▒▒█▓▓▓▓█░░░░░░░░░▒█▓▓▓▓█░░░░ ▒▒▒▒▒███▒▒▒▒▒▒████████████████████████████████████████████████████████▒▒▒█▓▓▓▓▓▓█░░░░░░░▒█▓▓▓▓▓█░░░░ ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒██▒▒▒▒▒▓████████████████████████████████████████████████████▒▒▒██▓█▓▓▓▓▓█▒░░░██▓▓▓▓▓▓█▒░░░░ ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒██▓▒▒▒▒▒████████████████████████████████████████████████▒▒▒██▓▓▓█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓██▓▓▓█░░░░░ ██▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓███▓▒▒▒▒▓██████████████████████████████████████████▒▒▒▓██▓▓▓█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█▓▓▓▓██░░░░░ ░░░▓████▓▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒████▒▒▒▒▒█████████████████████████████████████▒▒▒▒██▓█▓▓█▓▓▓▓▓████▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█░░░░░░ ░░░░░░░░░▒███▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▓███▓▒▒▒▒▒▒██████████████████████████████▒▒▒▒██▓▓▓█▓▓█▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█▒░░░░░░

ᴮᵃᵈ ᴺⁱᵍʰᵗᵐᵃʳᵉ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ 'ᴵᵗ ⁱˢ ᵃˡˡ ᵃ ʰᵒᵃˣ; ᵃ ᶠʳᵒⁿᵗ!' 'ᴸᵃᵘⁿᶜʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ!' 'ᴵ ˢᵃʸ⸴ ʷᵉ ˢᵗᵉᵖ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱᵐ!' ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʷᵒʳᵈˢ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ʸᵉᵃʳˢ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ʳⁱⁿᵍⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵐⁱⁿᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵇᵃᵈ ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳⁱᵉˢ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢˡᵉᵖᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ ᴴⁱˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵗⁱʳʳᵉᵈ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵃˡˢᵒ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ʲᵘˢᵗ ⁿᵒʳᵐᵃˡˡʸ ᵗᵒˢˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵘʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴳᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ⸴ ˢʰᵉ ⁿᵒʷ ˢᵃʷ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵇˡᵉ ᵈⁱˢᵗʳᵉˢˢ‧ ᴺᵒᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗˡᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ˢʰᵉ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʳʸ ᵗᵒ ˢⁿᵃᵖ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ʷʰᵃᵗᵉᵛᵉʳ ⁱᵗ ⁱˢ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˡᵉᵃⁿᵉᵈ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ʰᵉʳ ʷʰⁱᵐᵖᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ʷʰᵒ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ˢᵗᵒᵖ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‽" ᔆʰᵉ ᵍʳᵃᵇᵇᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵉᵉˡ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᵃⁿᵏˡᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢʰᵒᵒᵏ ⁱᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵒʳᵗʰ‧ ᴴⁱˢ ᵃⁿᵗᵉⁿⁿᵃᵉ ᵗʷⁱᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ‧ "ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ? ᵂᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ!" ᴺᵒʷ ʰᵉ ᵃʷᵒᵏᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ˢⁿᵃᵖᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ⸴ ˡᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵃ ᶜʳʸ‧ "ᴴᵉʸ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᵃᵗ ᵐᵉ⸴ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰˢ‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒʷ‧ "ᴵ⁻ᴵ'ᵐ ˢ⁻ˢᵒʳʳʸ‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ᵃ ᵇᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ?" "ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʷᵃˢ‧‧‧" "ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ‧‧‧" "ᴵ⁻ᴵ⁻ᴵ⁻ᴵ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ʷᵒʳʳⁱᵉᵈ‧" "ᴼʰ ˢʷᵉᵉᵗˢ ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ‧" "ᴵ⁻ᴵ'ᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵘʳᵉ ⁱᶠ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ʰᵒˡᵈ ᵐʸ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ˢʷᵉᵉᵗˢ?" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵒᶠᶠᵉʳᵉᵈ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵃⁿᵈ⸴ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ʰᵉ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉᵐᵇʳᵃᶜᵉᵈ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ʰᵒᵖᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˡᵘˡˡ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵖʳᵉᶠᵉʳᵃᵇˡʸ ʷⁱᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ᵃⁿʸ ˢᵗʳᵉˢˢ‧ ᴴᵉ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ˡᵉᵗ ᵍᵒ ᵒᶠ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ʷʰᵉⁿᶜᵉ ˢʰᵉ ᵐᵃⁿᵃᵍᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᶠᵃˡˡ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ ⁿᵒʷ ʷⁱᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ᵃⁿʸ ᵇᵃᵈ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐˢ‧ ╰ ✧ ･ﾟ∙ ∗ — ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ ⟨ 2 1 6 ⟩

ᴴᵉʳ ᔆᶜᵃʳᵉ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᵃ ᵗʳᵃⁱˡ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ᵇˡᵒᵒᵈ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ˢᵃʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ’ˢ ᵇˡᵉᵉᵈⁱⁿᵍ‧ “ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ‧‧” “ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ, ᴵ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ‧ ᴼʰ ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ‧ ᴵ’ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ‧ ᴴᵒʷ ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ…” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵖⁱᶜᵏᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵘᵖ ⁱⁿ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵃⁿᵈˢ‧ “ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᴵ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃʸ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡⁱˢᵗᵉⁿ; ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵒˢᵗ ᵃ ˡᵒᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵇˡᵒᵒᵈ‧‧” “ʸᵒᵘ’ʳᵉ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ, ˢᵒ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ…” ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵃᵈᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵘˢᵉᵈ ᵃˡˡ ˡᵃˢᵗ ᵉᶠᶠᵒʳᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ʷⁱᶠᵉ‧ “ᴸᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧” ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉᵈ ˢʰᵘᵗ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳˡᵈ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ˡᵃˢᵗ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰᵉᵃʳˢ ‘ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ’ ᶠʳᵃⁿᵗⁱᶜᵃˡˡʸ ᵇʸ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ ʰᵉʳ ᵒʷⁿ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᵈʸⁱⁿᵍ ˡⁱᵐᵖˡʸ ⁱⁿ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵃⁿᵈˢ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ʳᵉᵗᵘʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᴷʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᴷʳᵃᵇ‧ “ᴼʰ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ; ⁿᵒ, ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ! ᴶᵘˢᵗ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ, ᶠᵒʳ ᵐᵉ…” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶜʳⁱᵉᵈ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ⁿᵉᵉᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵃᶜᵗ ᶠᵃˢᵗ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ʰᵉʳ ˡⁱᶠᵉˡᵉˢˢ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ˡᵃᵇ‧ “ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉ…” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵖᵃᵘˢᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ʰᵉˡᵖ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵖᵘᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵒᵈʸ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ᵖʳᵉᵖᵃʳᵉᵈ ᵃ ᵐᵃᶜʰⁱⁿᵉ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ˢʰᵉ ˢᵃʷ ʰⁱᵐ ᵘˢᵉ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ‧ “ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵘⁱˡᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵃ ˢᵉⁿᵗⁱᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ˢᵒ ⁿᵒʷ ˡᵉᵗ ᵐᵉ ʰᵉˡᵖ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵒʷⁿ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ⁱⁿ ʳᵉᵗᵘʳⁿ‧‧” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʰᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵃᶜʰⁱⁿᵉʳʸ ʷᵒʳʳⁱᵉᵈˡʸ‧ “ᴵ ʰᵒᵖᵉ ⁱᵗ ʷᵒʳᵏˢ…” ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢˡᵒʷˡʸ ᵒᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᵗᵒ‧ “ᵂᵃ, ʷʰᵉʳᵉ…” “ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᵒʰ ᵍˡᵃᵈ ʸᵒᵘ’ʳᵉ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ!” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ‧ “ᴶᵘˢᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧”

ᵀʰᵉ ᶜʳᵃᵐᵖˢ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧‧" ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʷ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵃˢ ᵇᵃʳᵉˡʸ ʰᵒˡᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ‧ "ᴬˡˡ ᵐʸ ᵐᵘˢᶜˡᵉˢ ᵃᶜʰᵉ‧‧‧" "ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᴵ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵒᵗ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ!" ᔆʰᵉ ˢᵃʷ ʰᵒʷ ʷᵉᵃᵏ ʰᵉ ˢᵉᵉᵐᵉᵈ ⁿᵒʷ⸴ ᵉˣʰᵃᵘˢᵗᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵉᵉᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉˢᵗ ᵘᵖ‧ "ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿᵗ‧‧‧" "ᴵ⁻ᴵ'ᵐ ᵗ⁻ᵗᵒ ᵗⁱʳᵉᵈ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ʳᵉᵃᶜʰᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵖᵘˡˡᵉᵈ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ˡᵉᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵃ ʸᵉˡᵖ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ⁿᵉᵉᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵒᶠᵗ ᵇᵉᵈ ⁱᵐᵐᵉᵈⁱᵃᵗᵉˡʸ‧ "ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵇᵉᵈ ᵒʳ?" "ᴵᵗ ʰᵘʳᵗⁱⁿ’ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵐᵒᵛᵉ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵉʸᵉ ˡⁱᵈ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ʰᵉᵃᵛʸ‧ "ᴰᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᶠⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁱᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵘˢᵉ ᵃⁿʸ ᵉⁿᵉʳᵍʸ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ‧" ᔆʰᵉ ᵐᵃⁿᵃᵍᵉᵈ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵍᵉᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ʳᵉˢᵗ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᑫᵘⁱᵗᵉ ᵇᵉᵈ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ʸᵉᵗ‧ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵇᵒᵈʸ ⁿᵉᵉᵈˢ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ˢᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ˢˡⁱᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉᵈ‧ ᵀᵘᶜᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁱⁿ ⁿᵒʷ⸴ ʰⁱˢ ᶠⁱᵍᵘʳᵉ ʳᵉˡᵃˣᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ˡᵃᵐᵖ‧ ᶠᵃᶜⁱᵃˡ ᶠᵉᵃᵗᵘʳᵉˢ ˢˡᵃᶜᵏ ˡᵃˣ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱⁿᵃˡˡʸ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ˡᵉˢˢ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ‧ "ᴬˡˡ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ?" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧ 'ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ' ˢʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉⁿᵗᵃˡˡʸ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢⁿᵒʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿˢʷᵉʳᵉᵈ ᶠᵉʳ‧ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟏𝟕𝟓

1₁¹➀１↿˦⥠1️❶1️⃣

𝖠𝖴𝖳𝖨𝖲𝖬 𝖠𝖭𝖣 𝖠𝖫𝖫 pt. 2 (𝖻𝗒 𝗇𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖿𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) 𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀ ʀᴇᴀʟɪꜱᴛɪᴄ/ꜰᴀᴄᴛ-ʙᴀꜱᴇᴅ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴜɴɪᴛɪᴇꜱ. ᴅᴏᴇꜱ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀɪᴍ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀᴇꜱᴄʀɪʙᴇ ᴏʀ ᴘʀᴏᴍᴏᴛᴇ ᴀɴʏ ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪꜰɪᴄ ᴍᴇᴅɪᴄᴀʟ ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛᴍᴇɴᴛ. ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ᴀ ꜱᴄᴇɴᴀʀɪᴏ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴍᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ᴇɴᴛᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴘᴜʀᴘᴏꜱᴇꜱ. sᥙρρort to thosᥱ ιmρᥲᥴtᥱd ᴄᴏɴᴄᴇᴩᴛ- 𝘊𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 ➸ 𝐏𝐆-𝟏𝟑 ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ🙂ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ɴɪᴄᴇ ᴅᴀʏ "You had a little episode, sweetheart," Karen says, her voice warm and reassuring. "It's okay, just another one..." "Karen, wh-what is Chip doing here? Did he se-" Plankton's question is cut short as he notices Chip's expression, and he realized Chip must've indeed seen the whole thing. How long did it last? Embarrassment washed over Plankton. He'd managed to keep his condition from his son for so long, but now the secret was out. His heart raced, his cheeks flushing a deep shade of red. "Chip," he stammers, "I-" But Chip's eyes are wide. "What was that, Dad?" he asks, his tone innocent. Plankton's never talked about his autism to anyone other than Karen before. He's not sure how his son will react. Will Chip look at him differently now? "It's nothing, Chip," Plankton mumbles, avoiding eye contact. He wishes he could just sink into the bed and vanish. Chip, however, isn't one to back down easily. "No, Dad, what happened?" He insists, his voice still shaking from the fear that had just gripped him. "You were just sitting there, not moving or anyth-" "It's nothing," Plankton insists, his voice a bit more firm now. He doesn't want to admit it, but he feels a twinge of embarrassment at having been found out. He's always been so good at hiding his autistic traits from Chip. But now, his son is staring at him with a mix of curiosity and concern. Karen sighs, knowing it's time for Chip to have 'The Talk'. "Chip," she starts, her voice careful, "Your dad sometimes has moments like this. It's part of who he is, something he can't help." Chip's screen shifts to Karen, his eyes searching for understanding. "What do you me—" "It's NOTHING Chip," Plankton repeats, his voice more insistent. "Just... just DROP IT, OKAY‽" The sharpness in his tone surprises Chip. He's never heard his dad snap like that. He takes a step back, his expression a mix of confusion and hurt. "I just wanted to know if you were okay," he mumbles. Plankton's eye darts to Karen, silently pleading. "It's okay, Plankton," she says, her voice calm. "We can talk about it." But Plankton shakes his head, his cheeks flushing even more. "No, no, not now," he says, his voice smaller, almost defeated. The silence in the room stretches taut like a wire. Plankton's antenna starts to twitch erratically. It's a familiar sight to Karen, a tic. She's seen it before, yet never when Chip's been around. The tic again manifests as a twitch, his head jerking to the side in a small, rapid movement. "Dad? What's going on?" Chip's voice is smaller now, fear creeping in. Plankton's always been self-conscious about his condition. But now, his son looks at him with those innocent, questioning eyes. He swallows hard, trying to keep his anxiety in check. He doesn't know how to explain the tics and the stims that accompany his autism. He's always been so careful around Chip, hiding them as best as he could. "It's... it's just a... nothing," Plankton stammers. But Chip's curiosity is piqued. "What's happening to yo-" "CHIP!" Plankton's voice is sharp. Chip jumps back, his eyes wide. He's never seen his dad this upset. Karen's hand moves to Plankton's, her grip tight. "Plankton, it's okay," she says, her voice steady. Chip's eyes follow Plankton's head as it jerks slightly to the side again. "What's happening to your head?" Chip asks. He's never talked about his autism with anyone other than Karen, and certainly not with Chip. Plankton's antennae twitch in agitation. "I told you, it's tck tck nothing, Chip," he says, his voice strained. Karen squeezes Plankton's hand. "Let's just sit and talk, ok?" "I'm sorry," Plankton says to Karen. Karen's screen filled with sympathy. "You don't have to apologize, Plankton." She knows how much Plankton has struggled with his autism, how much he's worked to fit in and keep it hidden from Chip. "But he's going to want to know," Plankton says, his voice cracking. "I don't want hi-" "I know, love," Karen interrupts gently. "But we'll explain it to him. He's a smart boy. He'll understand." Plankton nods, his antennae still twitching. He takes a deep breath, preparing to face the reality that his secret is no longer safe. He looks at Chip, who's still hovering at the edge of the room, his eyes filled with uncertainty. "Chip, come here," Karen calls, patting the bed. "Your dad has something to tell you." Chip approaches cautiously, his heart thumping. Plankton looks up at him, his eye shimmering with unshed tears. Karen takes a deep breath, and then starts to explain. "Chip, your dad's brain is special. It does some things differently than ours. Sometimes, it can get overwhelmed and he needs a little time to... recalibrate." Plankton's gaze shifts to the floor, his antennae twitching. Chip can see the shame etched on his father's face, the fear of rejection. "Is that why you just moved your head like that?" he asks tentatively, pointing at the twitch. Plankton sighs, his body tense. "Yes," Karen admits, "that's part of it. And sometimes, he has moments where he just... zones out. It's like his brain goes to another place and can't come back right away." Chip's eyes are glued to his dad. "But why?" he asks her. Plankton's antennae twitch again, a silent plea for her to handle this. Karen's eyes soften. "It's called an absence seizure," she says. "It's part of his condition." Chip frowns, "What condition?" Plankton's gaze snaps up to his son, his heart racing. He's always been so careful to keep his autism hidden from Chip. But now, the moment of truth is here. "I'm... I-I-I-I…." Karen gives his hand a comforting squeeze. "It's called autism," she says. Chip's brow furrows. "What's autism?" His voice is small, his eyes searching his mother's face for answers. Plankton's heart feels like it's in a vice. He's avoided this conversation for so long. But now, the truth is out, and he's not sure if he can face his son's reaction. Karen smiles gently. "It's a way of being," she says. "Some people's brains work differently. They see the world in a unique way, and they have to deal with things like... episodes." Chip looks from his mother to his father, trying to comprehend. "But Dad, aren't you okay?" he asks, his voice small. Plankton's throat tightens. He's never felt so exposed. "I'm fine," he forces out. Plankton wishes he could just hide, disappear into the wallpaper. But he's trapped under the spotlight of his own son's curiosity.

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』

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

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⡤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⡶⠁⣠⣴⣾⠟⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣴⣿⠿⠋⣁⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⣠⣾⣿⡿⠟⠋⠉⠀⣀⣀⣀⣨⣭⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣤⣤⣤⣤⣴⠂ ⠈⠉⠁⠀⠀⣀⣴⣾⣿⣿⡿⠟⠛⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠛⠻⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠟⠋⠁⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⡿⠁⠀⢀⣀⣤⣤⣤⣤⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⣿⣿⡿⠁⢀⣴⣿⠋⠉⠉⠉⠉⠛⣿⣿⣶⣤⣤⣤⣤⣶⠖⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢀⣿⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠈⢿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⠟⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⣿⣿⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣿⣿⣷⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣋⣠⡤⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠛⠛⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠟⠛⠛⠛⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

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.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣤⣤⣤⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⡀⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⠄⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀dhoni⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠂⢀⣀ ⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠄⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠃⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠻⠿⠿⠿⠟⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡎⠀⠠⠀⢀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠁⠀ ⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣶⣿⣿⣶⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠤⠄⠒⠈⠀⠈⠐⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡄⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢨⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠄⢌⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠼⠒⠆⠂⠀⠄⠠ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⠶⡂⠀⠁⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⡉⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀choki fans⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣶⣾⣿⣷⣶⣤⡀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠘⢿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀⠠⠀⠀⠀⡌⠀⠀⠠⠀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣆⠂⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⣀⣤⣶⣶⣌⠻⣿⣿⣿⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠁⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣙⢿⣿⣿⣿⠄⠀⠀⠀⡄⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠟⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣹⣟⣫⣼⣿⣿⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⡉⠉⠉⠁⠀⠠⠄⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠐⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠁⠀⠀⠦⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⣠⣴⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⢿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢰⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣧⣄⣐⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⡀ ⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠉⠉⠙⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠁⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠁

＃ＫｎｅｅＳｕｒｇｅｒｙ pt. 2 They maneuver him into the wheelchair, and he winces as his leg meets the firm cushion. The nurse nods sympathetically. "It'll take some getting used to, but you'll manage." She gets his stuffed bear and blanket, placing them carefully in his lap. Plankton leans his head back, his eye drifting closed again as they get crutches. Karen follows the nurse as they navigate the hospital corridors. She's relieved to finally reach the car, helping him in with gentle care. His head lolls to the side as she buckles him in, his snores a testament to the powerful medication. The drive home feels endless. Every bump in the road jolts her nerves, but Plankton remains oblivious, his chest rising and falling evenly. She glances over, his hand resting on the stuffed bear, fingers lax. The house is a silent fortress when they arrive. Karen managed to get him in. He mumbles something incoherent as she helps lift him onto the couch. His eyelid flickers open, and he looks around confused before it closes again. She also leaves the wheelchair near. Pillows are arranged just so, the TV remote within easy reach, and his favorite blanket drapes his legs like a warm embrace. He mumbles a thank you, his eye still half-closed with sleep. Karen makes him comfortable, his head nestled against the pillows. She kisses his forehead. "Rest," she whispers, her voice a soft caress. "I'll be right here." Plankton's snores become more pronounced as Karen sits by his side. Just then, Karen's friend Sandy unexpectedly comes inside. "What happened?" she gasps. Karen smiles weakly. "He's sleepy." Sandy's eyes widen as she takes in the cast and the wheelchair. "What...? Why..." Sandy exclaims. "It's okay," Karen says. "Plankton had an accident. He'll be fine, yet it's going to be a long road to recovery." Sandy nods, a look of concern etching her features. "How can I help?" Karen's eyes fill with gratitude. "Could you... could you stay with him while I make food?" Sandy nods firmly. "Of course." Plankton's snores grow softer as Sandy sits beside him as Karen finishes up a batch of chum. Plankton stirs slightly, his snores quieter now. "Karen," Sandy calls from the living room. "He's waking up." Karen sets the food aside, wiping her hands on a towel as she rushes in. Plankton's eye blinks open, looking around confused. "What's...what's going on?" he mumbles. Karen smiles reassuringly. "You had surgery, Plankton. Do you remembe---" He nods, his eye half-lidded. "I...fell. But when’d she get here?" Plankton said as he recognized Sandy. Karen chuckles softly. "You've been out of it for a bit. She came a bit after you fell asleep." Sandy smiles. "I'm just here to help. What do you need?" Karen's shoulders sag with relief. "Could you help me get his wheelchair? We'll need to eat at the table." Karen guides Plankton. He winces as he lowers himself, his leg still tender and foreign in its cast. They make their way to the dinner table, Sandy right behind them. Karen serves him a steaming plate. He picks at the food, his eye still hazy from the anesthesia. Sandy fills a glass of water, placing it within his reach. "How long...?" Plankton's words trail off as he tries to remember the doctor's instructions. "How long will I be in this...this...thing?" He gestures to the cast, his frustration clear. Karen takes a deep breath, her hand resting on his shoulder. "It's going to be a few weeks, love. But think of it as a chance to rest and recover." She knows he doesn't want to appear helpless. Sandy sits across from Karen and Plankton, curious but tentative, as she knows he can have a fiery temper at times. "So, what happened Plank..." He cuts her off, his voice sharp. "I fell. That's what happened. I don't know much after that." Plankton's frustration is palpable, his eye flashing. Karen squeezes his hand gently, a silent reminder to be patient. Sandy nods, understanding. "Well, ok." Karen watches Plankton's face, and Sandy wants to help. He's tired, his eyelid drooping. But he tries to appear present, to eat with them at the kitchen table with his wheelchair. He takes small bites, his movements careful not to disturb his leg. Karen intercepts Sandy's concerned look. "It's okay," she whispers as Plankton's energy wanes. His head nods forward slightly, and he jerks awake with a snort, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. Karen appreciates her friend's support, yet she can see the uncertainty in Sandy's eyes. They both knew Plankton's stubbornness. Sandy clears her throat, changing the subject. "So, what's the plan for tomorrow?" Karen looks at Plankton, his eye half-closed. "We'll take it easy. The doctor said lots of rest." Plankton nods, his head bobbing slightly. "I'll help with the house," Sandy offers, picking up on Karen's unspoken concern. "You guys just focus on...you know, recovering." Karen smiles with gratitude. "Thank you." Plankton nods, his head lolling again as he tries to appear present. But he leans into Karen, his body heavy with exhaustion, head resting on her shoulder, his snores soon filling the room despite still sitting in the wheelchair at the table. Karen and Sandy exchange a look. Gently, Karen lifts Plankton's head, his snores growing deeper with every passing second. "Come on, let's get you to bed," she whispers, her voice a gentle caress in the quiet room. Sandy nods, understanding. They work in tandem, Sandy pushing the wheelchair while Karen supports Plankton's weight. The bedroom is bathed in a soft glow, the curtains drawn against the night. They maneuver him to the bed, his snores punctuating the air. They carefully lift him, his body unyielding from the pain meds, and lay him down. The cast feels heavier than ever, a stark reminder of the ordeal he's just been through. Karen pulls the covers over him, tucking them in gently around his cast, his snores growing louder. Sandy looks at Karen with sympathetic eyes. "You've had quite a day," she says softly. Karen nods. "We both have." Sandy pulls her into a hug. "You're not alone. I'm here."

ᥫ᭡. ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖⋆˚࿔ ⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ᥫ᭡

❯❯❯❯×͜×𝟏𝐃🎸⋆⭒˚｡⋆❯❯❯❯❯×͜ײ⁸¹ᴰ 🇬🇧🇮🇪✮⋆˙💚💙🇮🇪❤️💛✮ㅤᵕ̈✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩🥕𝐒𝐭✰𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥⚯ ͛ ❾¾ ⚕ ⚚♫🎧ྀི» ×͜ײ⁸ »☾𖤓𓇢𓆸ִ ࣪𖤐⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

DO YOU TRUST ME pt. 20 𝖠𝗎𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗋'𝗌 𝖣𝗂𝗌𝖼𝗅𝖺𝗂𝗆𝖾𝗋 𝖭𝗈𝗍𝖾 𝘐 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘵. 𝘐'𝘮 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘚𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘮 𝘮𝘺𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧. 𝘐 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘤 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘭𝘶𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘐'𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘥𝘥 𝘮𝘺 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴. 𝘚𝘰 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦, 𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘴𝘮 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘴 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺. 𝘞𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘩, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘷𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴. 𝘐 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘪𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘨𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶. ( emojicombos.com/neurofabulous ) Karen's arms wrap around him, her hands gentle on his back as she whispers words of comfort, her voice a balm to his frayed nerves. "You're safe, baby," she says. "You're safe with me." Plankton's sobs slow, his body relaxing marginally in her embrace. His antennae still thrash, but with less urgency, when Plankton's main dentist comes in. Dr. Musselman, Plankton's main dentist, rushes into the room, his eyes wide with concern at the sight of his patient's distress. Karen quickly explains the situation, her voice tight with emotion. "He's having an autistic shutdown," she says, her hand on Plankton's trembling back. "He's sensitive to sensory overload." He nods. "You can come into my exam room, follow me." The doctor's exam room is dimmer, the air cooler, and the smell less intense. The change in atmosphere is like a gentle caress against Plankton's overstimulated sensors. He lets out a shaky sigh, his antennae unfurling slightly. Dr. Musselman's eyes are kind, his voice a soothing balm. "Hi, Plankton," he says, his tone gentle. "Remember me?" Plankton's gaze flickers to him, his antennae stilling. "You're my other dentist," he whispers, his voice hoarse from the sobbing. The doctor nods, his smile reassuring. "That's right. I know you don't like surprises, so I'm sorry for that, for Jill. But we're going to take it slow, okay?" Plankton nods, his antennae twitching slightly. "We need to finish your cleaning," Karen says, her voice gentle. "But we'll do it with Dr. Musselman. He'll always work here, and can be your dentist instead of Jill from now on!" "Okay," Dr. Musselman says, his voice calm and measured. "We're going to take some x-rays now. It's quick and painless." Plankton's antennae perk up slightly at the mention of painlessness. He nods, his eye searching the doctor's face for any sign of deception. The doctor leads them to a small, enclosed space, the whirring of the x-ray machine a soothing constant. Karen holds Plankton's hand, her grip firm but gentle, as he sits in the chair. The doctor explains the process, his words clear and concise. Plankton nods, his breathing slowing slightly as he tries to comfort himself. The x-ray machine's cold metal touches his jaw, and he jolts. "It's okay," Karen whispers, her hand on his shoulder. "It's just a little picture of your teeth." Plankton's eye closes, his antennae stilling. He nods, his trust in his wife a beacon in the storm of his fear. Dr. Musselman's movements are careful, his voice calm. "Open wide," he says. Plankton's mouth opens slightly, his teeth clenched. The x-ray film slides into place, cold and slightly sticky. He tastes the metal, feels the pressure. But it's not the same as the probe. It's bearable. The machine whirs to life, the sensation of the x-rays a gentle buzz against his skin. His antennae quiver, but he doesn't pull away. Karen's hand squeezes his, a silent promise of support. "Good job," she murmurs, her voice a warm whisper in the cool air. The doctor's voice is steady. "Almost done," he says, his eyes on the machine's readout. Plankton nods, his breaths shallow but even. The fear has receded to a dull throb, a distant echo of the panic that had consumed him. The x-ray machine clicks off, the buzz of its operation silenced. Dr. Musselman gently removes the film, his movements careful not to startle Plankton. "Good boy," he says, his voice a warm caress. Plankton's antennae twitch in response, a tentative sign of trust.

PATRICK PLANKTON 1/4 (NEURODIVERGENT AUTHOR) Patrick went in the Chum Bucket where Plankton lives with Karen. "Welcome to the Chum Bucket Patrick," Karen called out. Patrick waved back, eyes lighting up at the sight of the various contraptions and inventions that lined the walls. He always found Plankton's fascinating, a stark contrast to the bright and bustling SpongeBob's pineapple house. The Chum Bucket was like a treasure trove of mysteries waiting to be uncovered, and Patrick loved a good mystery. He wandered further into the lab, his footsteps echoing off the metal floors, each step revealing more of Plankton's ingenious creations. Suddenly he spotted a tiny figure hunched over a book on a couch. It was Plankton, his single eyeball glued to the pages, oblivious to the world around him. The book's title, "101 Ways to Steal the Krabby Patty Secret Formula," was barely visible under a thick layer of dust. "Hey, Plankton!" Patrick bellowed, his voice booming like a foghorn in the small, cluttered space. The sudden noise caused Plankton to jump, sending his book flying into the air. "What are you reading?" Karen, who had been quietly watching the scene unfold from her desk, couldn't help but notice that Plankton had not moved a muscle since the book flew from his grasp. His body remained rigid, his eyeball unblinking. Concern crept into her voice as she called out to him, "Plankton, are you ok?" The tiny villain didn't respond, his expression frozen in a silent scream. Patrick looked around, puzzled. "Is he playing a game?" he asked, his tone hinting at the innocent curiosity that often got him into trouble. Karen recognized immediately went to the couch and sat by Plankton, Patrick not knowing what's happening. Karen's gaze fell upon Plankton's unblinking eye and she knew instantly what was wrong. He was in a state of sensory overload. She had seen it happen before, though Patrick hasn't. She gently touched his shoulder, trying to coax him back to reality. "Plankton, sweetiep," she cooed. Patrick's puzzled expression grew more concerned as he took in Plankton's unresponsive state. "What happened to him, Karen?" he asked, his voice quieter now, a hint of worry in his tone. "It's his sensory shutdown, Patrick," Karen explained softly, stroking Plankton's arm gently. "It's like his brain got too full of thoughts and had to take a little break. It's ok, he'll be fine." She knew this was something he'd have to come out of on his own. She had been there for him countless times before, each instance more terrifying than the last, but she had learned patience was key. Patrick, still not fully grasping the situation, knelt beside the couch. He leaned in closer to Plankton nearly touching the little plankton's face. "Hey buddy you ok?" he asked, his voice now a gentle whisper. Karen put a hand on Patrick's arm, gently guiding him back. "Just give him some space, Patrick," she instructed. "He'll come around. This happens when he's really stressed or overwhelmed." Patrick nodded slowly, his eyes still glued to his friend. He didn't fully understand, but he knew that Karen knew what she was talking about. He stepped back, allowing Karen to continue her soothing whispers to Plankton. The room grew quiet, save for the rhythmic ticking of a clock that had long ago lost track of time and the soft hum of machines in the background. The tension in the air was palpable, as if it too was holding its breath, waiting for Plankton to snap out of his frozen state. "You can do it, Plankton," she encouraged. "Just breathe." Plankton's body slowly relaxed, and his eye blinked, finally coming back into focus. He looked around, bewildered, as if he had just woken from a particularly vivid nightmare. "Karen?" he croaked, his voice weak and trembling. "I'm here, Plankton," she said, her hand still resting on his arm. "You had another shutdown, but it's over now." His eye narrowed on Patrick, who was now standing awkwardly by the couch. "What?" Plankton snapped. Patrick's eyes widened. "I-I just want to see what was wrong," he stuttered. "Well, nothing's wrong with me!" Plankton spat pushing himself up from the couch. "But you were just..." Patrick started to protest. "I said there's nothing wrong!" Patrick took a step back. "But..." "Just leave me alone!" Plankton shouted, echoing off the cold metal walls. Patrick's smile faded, and he looked down. He hadn't meant to upset his friend, but he couldn't help but feel confused and hurt by Plankton's sudden outburst. "I-I'm sorry, Plankton," he murmured. "I didn't mean to... I just..." "You just what?" Plankton cut him off, antennae quivering with irritation. "You just don't know to mind your business do you?" "But I just..." "I said leave me alone!" Plankton barked again, his tiny frame shaking with anger. Patrick took another step back, his eyes brimming with confusion. "Plankton..." "What part of 'leave me alone' don't you understand?" Plankton retorted. Patrick's eyes searched the room, desperate to find something to say or do that would fix the situation. The air grew thick with the tension of Plankton's frustration and Patrick's fear of losing a friendship he had worked hard to maintain despite their many differences. "I just..." he began again, his voice trailing off as he tried to find the right words. "What is it?" Plankton snarled, impatience growing with each passing second. Patrick took a deep breath, trying to compose his thoughts. "I just wanted to make sure you were ok because I don't know what's wrong with you," he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "Wrong with me?" Plankton's voice grew louder, his tiny fists clenching at his sides. "You think there's something wrong with me?!" Patrick took another step back, his eyes never leaving Plankton's furious gaze. "Well, you know you were just sitting there, not moving..." "It's none of your business!" Plankton yelled, his antennae quivering with rage. "What's it to you anyway?" Karen, who had been watching the exchange with a growing sense of unease, knew that she had to intervene. She could see the hurt in Patrick's eyes and the turmoil within Plankton's, and she knew that their friendship was hanging by a thread. Carefully, she stood up from her chair and approached the two, her movements deliberate and calming. "Plankton, honey, let's not get too worked up," she said placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Patrick didn't mean any harm. He's just worried about you." Patrick nodded emphatically, his hands raised in a gesture of peace. "Yeah, buddy, I just want to help." But Plankton's anger didn't subside. "You don't get it do you? I don't need your help, or your pity. I just want you to leave me alone!" Karen's gaze softened as she looked at her husband. "Patrick, I know you mean well, but sometimes Plankton needs his space." Patrick's eyes darted from Karen to Plankton, his confusion now mixed with a hint of sadness. "But, I thought..." Karen stepped between them, her eyes filled with understanding. "Patrick, sometimes Plankton just needs a moment." She turned to Plankton, her voice firm but gentle. "And Plankton, you know Patrick only wants to be there for you." Plankton's eye narrowed, but he didn't argue. He just nodded curtly, embracing her hand. "Ok," Patrick murmured, his voice heavy with disappointment. "Look, Patrick," Karen said, her voice measured and soothing, "Plankton's got a condition." Karen turns to Plankton as Patrick comes back by them. "Plankton, may you explain to Patrick?" Plankton let out a heavy sigh, his tiny shoulders rising and falling dramatically. Patrick's expression grew more concerned, his pink star-shaped body inching closer to the couple. "Plankton, don't be scared.." "I'm not scared!" Plankton barked, his antennae shooting straight up. "I just don't need you poking in to my business!" Patrick's eyes grew wide, and he took a tentative step back. "But..." "But nothing!" Plankton spat, curling inward to Karen. "I don't need your help, I don't need your pity, and I certainly don't need you treating me like some sort of lab experiment!" Ignoring the barb, Patrick took a step closer, his tentacles reaching out to pat Plankton's shoulder. It was a gesture of comfort he'd seen SpongeBob use countless times, and it had always worked to soothe his frayed nerves. But as soon as his hand made contact, Plankton flinched violently, as if he'd been scalded. "Don't touch me!" he yelled, shoving Patrick's hand away. Patrick's eyes went wide, and he took a hasty step back, his tentacles retreating into his body. "I'm sorry, Plankton," he stammered, his voice full of genuine remorse. "I didn't mean to..."

DO YOU TRUST ME pt. 17 𝖠𝗎𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗋'𝗌 𝖣𝗂𝗌𝖼𝗅𝖺𝗂𝗆𝖾𝗋 𝖭𝗈𝗍𝖾 𝘐 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘵. 𝘐'𝘮 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘚𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘮 𝘮𝘺𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧. 𝘐 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘤 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘭𝘶𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘐'𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘥𝘥 𝘮𝘺 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴. 𝘚𝘰 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦, 𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘴𝘮 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘴 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺. 𝘞𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘩, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘷𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴. 𝘐 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘪𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘨𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶. ( emojicombos.com/neurofabulous ) The next morning, Karen gets a text from Plankton's dental office for a check up and routine cleaning. So Karen decided to go down stairs to awaken him, and Chip, so they can go. She finds them both asleep by each other still on the couch. Gently, she shakes Plankton's shoulder. "Honey," she says, her voice a soft caress. "You've got a dentist appointment." Plankton's eye snaps open, his antennae twitching. Chip opens his eyes. Plankton sits up with a start, his body stiff from the night on the couch. He looks at Karen, his expression a mix of confusion and dread. "Dentist?" he repeats, his voice cracking. Karen nods, her eyes filled with concern. "It's okay," she says, her voice soothing. "We'll go together, all of us." Karen's eyes are filled with understanding as she helps Plankton to his feet. Chip rises from his spot, his expression a mix of worry and determination. The drive to the dentist's office is quiet, the tension palpable. Once they arrive, they go up to the receptionist desk. The receptionist, a cheery octopus, greets them with a smile. "Good morning, Mr. Plankton," she says. "You're here for your 9 AM appointment, aren't you?" Plankton nods. "Yes," Karen says. "He's with hygienist named Zoe.." But then the receptionist interrupts her. "Oh, Zoe doesn't work here anymore. She's been replaced by a new hygienist, named Jill." Plankton's antennae droop, his face paling. Change was never his friend, especially when it came to routine. "But I've always had her," he whispers, his voice tight with anxiety. Karen's hand squeezes his shoulder, her eyes filled with understanding. "It'll be okay," she murmurs. "We'll make it work. We can tell her about your autistic needs." The waiting room is a cacophony of sounds, the buzz of the fluorescent lights, the hum of the air conditioner, the distant drill, and the muffled chatter of other patients. Plankton starts rocking back and forth. Karen notices the signs of his anxiety building, his antennae twitching with every new sound. She leans over, whispering. "We'll tell them what you need." Chip looks at his dad's stimming. "Why's he rocking?" Chip asks Karen. She whispers back, "It's a way he self-soothes, a common autistic trait. It's his way to deal with restlessness." The new hygienist, Jill, enters the waiting room. "Plankton?" Plankton's antennae shoot up, his body tense. "Yes," Karen says, smiling warmly. "This is my husband, Plankton, and our son, Chip." She nods towards Chip. They stand up and follow Jill. Jill's office is a minefield of sensory stimuli. The bright lights, the smell of antiseptic, and the shiny metal instruments glinting on the tray. Plankton's body tightens with each step closer to the chair. Karen notices, and whispers, "Remember what we talked about, Plankton. You can handle this." He nods, his antennae flicking nervously.

PATRICK PLANKTON 3/4 (NEURODIVERGENT AUTHOR) "Here," he said, awkwardly offering a tentacle to help Plankton to his feet. "Let me help you." But Plankton slapped his hand away, his shivering growing more intense. "No," he whispered, his voice barely audible. His body was a wreck of tremors, his tiny frame visibly struggling to hold itself upright. Patrick looked at Karen, his eyes pleading for guidance. Karen nodded gently, understanding the unspoken question. "Just give him some space," she whispered back. The tension in the room was palpable as Patrick took a step back, his tentacles retracting into his body. Plankton's shivering grew worse, his tiny frame seemingly shrinking before their eyes. He wrapped his arms around himself, his legs giving out beneath him. Before Karen could even react, Patrick's instincts took over. He lunged forward, catching Plankton in his strong, star-shaped embrace, preventing him from hitting the cold metal floor. The impact was jarring, but Patrick's concern for his friend outweighed any discomfort he might have felt. "Whoa, buddy," he murmured, his tentacles embracing Plankton's shoulders. "You ok?" Karen watched the scene unfold with a mix of surprise and admiration for the starfish's intuitive care. "P-Patrick," Plankton stuttered, his body still convulsing slightly. Patrick's eyes searched Plankton's face for any sign of pain or discomfort, his tentacles tightening around his friend's shaking body. "It's ok," he murmured, his voice soothing despite the fear that was knotting his insides. "You just had a little episode, but you're ok now." Plankton's body stiffened, his antennae sticking straight out in alarm. "What are you doing?" he hissed, his voice a mix of anger and fear. "Just trying to help," Patrick said, his eyes filled with genuine concern. "You're shaking, and I don't want you to fall." Plankton's antennae drooped, the fight draining from him. "I..." he murmured, wanting to escape Patrick's grasp. But Patrick held firm. "You lean on Karen, yet it's ok to lean on someone else too." Plankton's eye searched the room, desperate to find a way out of this embarrassing situation. "I-I don't need..." But his protests were cut short by a wave of dizziness that washed over him. His legs buckled. "Let me go," he whispered, his voice trembling with a mix of anger and fear. Patrick's tentacles tightened around Plankton slightly, but he didn't let go. "You need to relax," he said softly. "Just breathe." Plankton's shivering grew worse, his teeth chattering like a typewriter on overdrive. "Can't... can't breathe," he managed to get out. Karen stepped in, her eyes filled with a mix of concern and understanding. "Plankton," she said, her voice calm and even, "you need to relax. You're safe." "But he's..." Plankton's protests were cut off by another tremor that rippled through his body. "I know, buddy," Patrick said gently. "But sometimes we all need a little help, even if we don't want to admit it." "Get. Off. Me!" he spat, his voice filled with a desperation that made Patrick's heart ache. But Patrick didn't move. He just held Plankton closer. "You're safe. I just don't want you to..." Plankton's tremors grew more violent, and his eye rolled back into his head again. His tiny body convulsed in Patrick's arms, his antennae flailing wildly. "Patrick, let go!" Karen's voice was sharp with fear. "You're making it worse!" Patrick's tentacles loosened their grip, and Plankton slumped back onto the bed, his body still quivering uncontrollably. Karen's robotic hands moved with surprising gentleness as she tucked him in, scanning his form for any sign of injury. "It's okay," she whispered, her voice a soothing hum. "You're safe now." Patrick hovered nearby, his heart racing. He didn't know what to say or do to make things right. The sight of his friend in such distress was more than he could bear. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his tentacles wringing in his hands. "I didn't mean to..." But Plankton's shivering had stopped, his body going slack. His antennae had dropped to his side, and his single eye was closed. Karen checked his pulse again, her expression unreadable. "He's okay," she said finally, her voice a mix of relief and exhaustion. "Just needs to rest." Patrick hovered by the bedside, feeling helpless. "What can I do?" he asked, his tentacles twitching with the need to help in some way. Karen looked up at him, her expression a mix of gratitude and weariness. "Just be here," she murmured. "And maybe... maybe don't touch him again." Patrick nodded solemnly, his tentacles drooping in defeat. "Okay," he murmured. "I'll just stay." He watched as Karen continued to monitor Plankton's condition, her mechanical movements a stark contrast to the tender way she treated her husband. The silence in the room was heavy with unspoken words and fear. "I had no idea," Patrick whispered, his gaze never leaving Plankton's still form. "It's not something he talks about," Karen said gently. "But you should know. Plankton's episodes are often triggered by sudden movements, loud noises, or physical contact." Patrick nodded, his gaze still on Plankton. "I didn't mean to scare him," he said softly. Karen's eyes met his, filled with understanding. "I know, Patrick," she said. "But you have to understand, Plankton's condition makes him sensitive to certain things." Patrick nodded slowly, his gaze never leaving Plankton's face. "What exactly are triggers?" he asked, his voice a low murmur. "Well," Karen began, her voice taking on the tone of a teacher explaining a complex concept, "triggers are basically anything that sets off Plankton's condition. They can be anything from a sudden sound to someone touching him without warning. It's like his brain gets overstimulated and shuts down to protect itself." Patrick listened intently, his eyes never leaving Plankton's still form. "So, I shouldn't..." Karen interrupted gently, "you shouldn't surprise him, especially with physical contact." Patrick nodded, his tentacles stilling as he took in the gravity of the situation. He had never thought about how his actions could affect someone in such a profound way. "How can I help then?" he asked, his voice small. "Just be there," Karen said, her hand patting his shoulder. "Talk to him, keep things calm. And if he starts to get overwhelmed, just let him be. Sometimes, that's all he needs." Patrick nodded, taking in her words. He knew he wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, but he could do this. Be there for his friend without smothering him. He could be that rock that Plankton could lean on without crushing him. "Okay," he murmured, "I can do that." Karen turned her attention back to Plankton, her robotic eyes scanning his body for any signs of improvement. "He's resting now," she said, her voice a soft whisper. "But he might be irritable when he wakes up." Patrick nodded, his gaze never leaving his friend. "What can I do to make sure he doesn't get to upset?" he asked, his tentacles twitching with anxiety. "Look for signs," Karen said. "If his antennae start to twitch, or he seems distant it might be time to give him some space." Patrick nodded, his eyes searching Plankton for any signs of distress. He didn't want to cause his friend any more pain, especially after seeing him like this. "What else?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "Look at his breathing," Karen instructed, her gaze focused on Plankton's chest rising and falling in slow, shallow movements. "If it gets rapid or erratic, he's likely overwhelmed." Patrick nodded, watching intently as Plankton's chest moved with each breath. "Ok" he murmured, "I'll keep an eye on that." Karen's gaze softened, looking up at the starfish. "It's more than just that, Patrick," she said gently. "It's about understanding him, knowing what sets him off." Patrick nodded, his eyes focused on Plankton. "So, what are the signs?" Karen paused, considering her words carefully. "Well, it's like reading a book," she began. "You have to pay attention to the little things, the subtle cues that tell you how he's feeling." "Subtle cues?" he repeated, his brow furrowed in concentration. "Yes," Karen nodded. "Like how he reacts when you touch him. Sometimes, it can be soothing. Other times, it can be overwhelming." She paused, her eyes scanning Plankton's form for any signs of distress. "It's all about reading his cues." Patrick leaned in closer, his tentacles stilling. "How do know if it's helping or hurting, or what type of touching?" "It's different for everyone with his condition," Karen explained, still on Plankton's sleeping form. "But for Plankton, it's usually about pressure." Patrick's eyes widened. "What do you mean?" Karen demonstrated with her robotic arm, applying gentle pressure to Patrick's shoulder. "Like this," she whispered. "Soft, comforting touches can help him feel grounded." Patrick tentatively reached out with a tentacle, mimicking the light touch. He watched as Plankton's sleeping body tensed for a moment before relaxing slightly. "Is that ok?" he asked, his voice barely above a murmur. "Just keep it gentle," Karen reminded him, her eyes still on her husband. "And pay attention to his reactions."

PATRICK PLANKTON 4/4 (NEURODIVERGENT AUTHOR) Patrick nodded, his tentacle hovering above Plankton's shoulder. He was about to touch him again when Karen spoke up. "Remember, Patrick," she said, her voice a soft hum, "it's all about his comfort. If he seems tense or pulls away, you know to ease off." Patrick nodded, his tentacle poised in the air ready to offer comfort without causing more distress. "Okay," he murmured his eyes never leaving Plankton's peaceful, if slightly troubled, face. "Soft and gentle.." "Yes," Karen said. "And if he flinches or seems more uncomfortable, I know to stop immediately." Patrick nodded solemnly retreating. "I don't wanna worsen," he whispered. "You won't," Karen assured him. "Just remember, Plankton's condition isn't your fault. And he's lucky to have a friend like you who cares enough to learn." Patrick nodded, his tentacles stilling as he absorbed the information. He looked down at his massive starfish body, feeling clumsy and awkward next to Plankton's frail frame. "How do I know if I'm touching him the right way?" he asked, his voice tentative. "Just watch for his reactions," Karen instructed, her robotic eyes flickering as she observed Plankton's peaceful expression. "If he relaxes, you're doing it right. If not, you're doing too much." Patrick nodded, his tentacles hovering anxiously. "But how do I show him interest and care, without touching?" Karen considered his question, her robotic brain processing. "Words can be powerful, too," she said finally. "Ask him about his day, what he's been working on. Show genuine interest in his life." Patrick nodded, his tentacles retracting slightly. "I can do that," he murmured. "Plankton enjoys talking about his inventions," Karen began. "He finds solace in the predictability of science and engineering. It's his way of making sense of the world." Patrick nodded, his gaze thoughtful. "So, I should ask him about his latest gizmo?" "Exactly," Karen said with a small smile. "And listen, really listen to what he has to say. It's his way of sharing his world with you." Patrick nodded, his eyes reflecting his determination to be a better friend. "Instead of physical affection, what else might he like to show I care?" he asked eager to learn more. "Plankton's quite fond of his pet, Spot," Karen said, her voice a mix of fondness and amusement. "You could offer to help play with Spot, or even bring a little treat for him." Patrick's eyes lit up at the mention of the tiny amoeba puppy. "Really?" he asked, his tentacles unfurling slightly. "Yes," Karen said with a smile, "Spot is a source of great comfort to him, they enjoy each other." She paused, considering. Patrick's tentacles began to twitch with excitement. "Could you get Spot?" he asked, his voice hopeful. "Maybe having Spot here would help him feel better when he wakes up." Karen's smile grew. "That's a wonderful idea, Patrick," she said, and glided out of the room, to get Spot. Plankton's antennae twitched, and his eye began to flutter open. "Wha..." Karen returned with Spot in tow, the little amoeba wagging its tail. She placed the small creature gently on the bed with Plankton. "Look who's here to see you," she said, voice a gentle coo. Plankton's antennae perked up at the sight of his little amoeba bounced over. Patrick watched as the tiny creature brought a rare smile to Plankton's face. "Hey, bud," Plankton murmured. Spot in Plankton's arms, licking his face with its tiny, slimy tongue. Plankton giggled. "Good boy," he murmured, his antennae twitching with delight. The sight of Spot's excitement seemed to ease some of the tension in his body. Patrick watched from the side, his tentacles twitching with the desire to join in the moment of levity. He knew he had to tread carefully, but he also knew Plankton's smile was worth it. "How about we play a game? Spot can come too." he suggested, voice soft and tentative. Karen nodded, her smile genuine. "That's a great idea. Plankton loves a good trivia game." Patrick's eyes lit up. "I know just the thing!" He dashed out of the room and returned with a battered old board game titled "Bikini Bottom Brainiac Challenge." "This is perfect," Karen said, her voice filled with relief. She knew how much Plankton enjoyed a good intellectual showdown. Patrick set up the game with shaky tentacles, and Plankton's antennae twitched with curiosity and eagerness. "What's the rules?" Plankton asked, his voice still a little raspy from his episode. He's still holding Spot. "Simple," Patrick said, his tentacles steady as he unfolded the board. "We take turns answering trivia questions. If you get one right, you move forward. If not you go back." Plankton's antennae wiggled with excitement. "I've got this," he declared, his competitive spirit briefly overriding his exhaustion. "Let's start with an easy one," Karen suggested, her robotic voice filled with a motherly concern. Patrick nodded, picking up a card. "Alright, Plankton," he began, his tone light, "who invented the telephone?" Plankton's antennae shot up. "Alexander Clam Bell," he said with a smug smile, and Spot barked in excitement. Karen chuckled. "Correct," she said, moving his game piece forward. "Patrick's question." Plankton pulled a card from the pile, his tentacles shaking slightly. "Okay," he said, "who was the first sea creature to walk on land?" Patrick thought for a moment, his tentacles tapping the side of his head. "I know this one," he exclaimed. "It was..." He paused, trying to remember the name from one of Mr. Krabs' many history lessons. "Gilligan!" Karen's robotic laugh filled the room. "I'm afraid not, Patrick. It was actually the first amphibian, not a sea creature, who walked on land." Plankton rolled his eye. "It's okay, Patrick. It was a good guess," he said, his tone kinder than the usual sarcasm. Patrick chuckled, feeling a bit silly. "Alright, I'll work on my history," he said, moving his piece back. "Your turn, Karen." The game continued, the tension in the room slowly dissipating with each question and laugh. Plankton's eye lit up with each answer he knew, his antennae waving with excitement. The simple act of playing together brought a sense of normalcy to the situation. Karen's questions were more science-based, which Plankton devoured. "What is the chemical composition of seawater?" she asked, her robotic eyes gleaming with challenge. "Easy," Plankton said, his voice growing stronger with each word. "It's mostly sodium chloride with traces of other salts and minerals." Patrick watched as Plankton's confidence grew with every correct answer, his antennae standing tall. The game was a balm to his friend's frazzled nerves, a gentle reminder of the Plankton he knew before the meltdown. "Your turn," he said. Karen's question was about the ocean's currents, and Plankton felt a twinge of excitement. "Oh, I know this one," he exclaimed. "It's all about the Coriolis Effect is what makes the water spin in different directions in the northern and southern hemispheres!" Patrick nodded, his tentacles twirling with enthusiasm. "Wow, Plankton, you're really good at this!" But as he went to roll the dice, his excitement got the better of him. The dice slipped from his grasp, bouncing straight Plankton's open eye. Plankton yelped in pain. Patrick's tentacles froze mid-air, his eyes wide with horror. "Oh no!" he exclaimed, reaching out to help his friend. But Plankton was already recoiling, his antennae flailing as he clutched his eye. "Ow!!" Patrick's heart sank. "I'm so sorry!" he exclaimed, reaching out to comfort his friend. But Plankton was already on the defensive, arms swiping at the air as if trying to swat away the pain, his eye watering. Patrick's tentacles retreated immediately, the gravity of his mistake weighing heavy on him. "I didn't mean to," he said, his voice tight with regret. "I'm sorry, Plankton." Plankton's eye watered, and he blinked rapidly, trying to clear the pain. Karen's eyes went wide with alarm, and she was at his side in an instant. "Plankton?" Plankton rubs his eye with his tiny hand. "Just... just give me a moment." Patrick gets a small bag of ice with a cool cloth. "Here," he says, holding it out tentatively. "Cold might help Plankton.." Plankton's eye is still red and watery, but he takes the ice pack. "Thanks," he mumbles placing the cool compress on his eye. After a few moments, he lets out a sigh. "It's ok," he says, his voice a mix of pain and annoyance. "It may bruise." Patrick looks at him with a mix of relief and guilt. "Are you sure you're ok?" he asks, his tentacles hovering. "Yes!" Plankton exclaimed, antennae shooting up. He winced as he tried to open the eye fully, but the pain was too much. "But I can handle it," he said through gritted teeth. Plankton took a deep breath, the silence in the room thick with the sting of pain. He knew he had to say something, to apologize for how he treated Patrick. "Look," he began, gruff but sincere. "Sorry if I've been a bit... much.." Patrick's tentacles twitched with emotion. "It's ok, Plankton," he said, his voice thick. "I just didn't know how to help." "You're trying," Plankton said, antennae dropping slightly. "And that's more than anyone else has ever done, other than Karen and Spot of course." Plankton's antennae twitched, his voice a little softer than usual. "You're just to... to enthusiastic for me most times." Patrick nodded. "I'll be more careful," he murmured. Karen looked at him with a mix of gratitude and pity. "Patrick, it's not your fault," she said. "Plankton's condition is complex, and even I struggle to sometimes. Plankton's not like everyone else. He needs his space, his quiet and his routines." Patrick nodded, his tentacles drooping slightly. "I'll do better," he said, earnest.

DO YOU TRUST ME pt. 22 𝖠𝗎𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗋'𝗌 𝖣𝗂𝗌𝖼𝗅𝖺𝗂𝗆𝖾𝗋 𝖭𝗈𝗍𝖾 𝘐 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘵. 𝘐'𝘮 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘚𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘮 𝘮𝘺𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧. 𝘐 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘤 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘭𝘶𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘐'𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘥𝘥 𝘮𝘺 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴. 𝘚𝘰 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦, 𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘴𝘮 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘴 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺. 𝘞𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘩, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘷𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴. 𝘐 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘪𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘨𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶. ( emojicombos.com/neurofabulous ) Plankton's mouth moves with his snores, the gauze pads in his mouth muffling the sound, the crimson tinge to the white fabric. His drool pools and runs down the side of his face. Karen watches, her thoughts a tumult of emotion. She's relieved that the procedure went well but torn apart by the knowledge that Plankton's fear was so intense. Her hand remains steadfast on his, her thumb brushing over his skin in gentle circles. The doctor checks his watch, his eyes on Plankton's slack form. "Almost time for him to wake up," he says softly. Karen nods, her heart racing as she braces herself for his reaction. Karen can't help but think about how much he's been through today, and she wonders if he'll ever trust her the same way again. The minutes tick by, each one feeling like an eternity. The only sounds in the room are the steady beeps of the monitors and the soft snores of Plankton's slumber. Karen's hand doesn't stop moving, her thumb tracing comforting patterns on his palm. When Plankton stirs, his antennae twitching slightly, Karen's eyes fill with relief. "Hey, baby," she whispers, her voice a caress. "You're okay." His eye opens slowly, blinking against the light. He looks around, his gaze finally settling on Karen. For a moment, his expression is lost, a swirl of confusion and fear. Then he sees her smile, and the world falls into place. "Huh," he whispers, his voice slurred from the anesthesia. Karen's smile widens. The numbness in his mouth is a strange, disconnected sensation, like his teeth are floating in a sea of cotton. Plankton tries to sit up, his movements clumsy and slow. Karen's hand on his shoulder is firm but gentle, guiding him back down. "Easy, sweetie," she says. The doctor nods, his expression a blend of concern and reassurance. "Just give it a few more minutes," he says. "Let the anesthesia wear off a bit more." Plankton's eye focuses on her, his mind fuzzy. The gauze in his mouth feels like a soggy sponge, absorbing the blood from his teeth. He tries to talk, but his words are muted and garbled. "Ma-" Karen nods, her smile understanding. "I know, baby. It'll be okay." The doctor checks the monitors, his expression calm. "Looks like you're coming out of it," he says. "Just a few more minutes." Karen nods, her hand still on Plankton's. Plankton's body feels strange, his movements sluggish. The numbness of his mouth spreads to his cheeks, his face feeling swollen and alien. He tries to talk. "Ma-Ma-Ma-Ma-" Karen understands his attempt at words. She leans closer, smiling gently. "It's okay, sweetie. You're okay." Her voice is a soothing song, a balm to his fearful soul. His tongue feels like a thick slab of meat, unresponsive and foreign. The drool continues to flow. Plankton's gaze moves from Karen to the doctor, his eye wide and searching. "Wheh...what...whath happen'd?" he mumbles around the gauze, his mouth feeling like it's filled with cotton. His tongue is a dead weight, refusing to form words. Karen's smile is a lifeline in the fog of his confusion. "You had a little procedure," she says, her voice gentle. "The wisdom teeth are out." Plankton's antennae twitch, trying to remember the conversation that had led to this. The fear is a distant memory now, dulled by the anesthesia. His mouth feels strange, unfamiliar. He reaches up to touch his swollen cheek, his hand shaky and clumsy. "Ma-Ma-Ma-Ma--" He tries to form words, his mind still sluggish. Karen's eyes are full of love and concern as she gently takes his hand. "It's okay," she says. "The numbness will go away soon." Plankton nods, his head lolling slightly as his body adjusts to the lack of sensation. His drool pools on the gauze pads, the saliva spilling over onto his chin. He's vaguely aware of the mess he's making, but the fear has been replaced by a dull, heavy weight. The doctor's voice is a comforting murmur in the background, talking to Karen about aftercare and pain management. Karen's hand is still in his, her fingers tight around his own. He tries to squeeze back, but his hand feels floppy and unresponsive. "K-Karen wiww I...?" he slurs, his thoughts still tangled. Her eyes are warm with comfort. "You're going to be fine," she assures him, wiping away a stray drop from the corner of his mouth. "We'll go home soon." He perks up. "Thoon?" The doctor nods. "We'll keep an eye on him for a bit longer," he says. "But you can take him home once he's more awake." Karen nods, her thumb continuing to trace gentle circles on his palm. Plankton's eye is glazed with the remnants of anesthesia, but his antennae twitch with excitement. The room spins around Plankton, the walls a blur. He tries to sit up again, his body fighting against the lingering effects of the drugs. Karen's grip is firm but loving, keeping him anchored to the chair. "Just a bit longer," she soothes. His mouth feels like a cavern, the gauze thick and unyielding. He tries to speak, his tongue a traitor against his will. "Doeth...doeth it huth?" The words come out garbled, a nonsensical string of syllables. Karen nods, her smile understanding. "Your mouth will feel funny for a bit," she explains, her voice a soothing hum. "It's normal, just give it some time." Her thumb keeps moving, a small, reassuring gesture. The doctor's words drift in and out of Plankton's awareness. "You'll have to take it easy for a few days," he's saying. "No crunchy foods, lots of ice for the swelling." Karen nods, her eyes on Plankton's face as she listens. Plankton's tongue is a sluggish weight in his mouth, his teeth a distant memory beneath the cottony numbness. He tries to form a full sentence. "Muh...muh...muh... Yith?" Plankton's voice is a garbled mess, the words sticking to his numb tongue like glue. Karen's heart squeezes in her chest as she tries not to laugh. "What did you say, sweetie?" He sighs, frustrated, his antennae drooping. "I thaid, doth Chip know?" His speech is still slurred, the words coming out like a drunken mumble. Karen nods. "He's waiting outside," she says. "He's been worried about you." The mention of Chip seems to anchor him. His eye brightens, the confusion in it clearing slightly. "Chip," he murmurs. Karen smiles. "Yes, Chip," she repeats, her voice a soft echo. "You remember now?" Plankton's antennae twitch in affirmation. "Muh...mouth." Karen nods, her expression full of understanding. "It's okay," she says. "Your mouth will feel normal again soon." The doctor's voice is a steady stream of instructions, his words a lifeline in Plankton's foggy reality. "Keep the gauze in for an hour, chew gently to keep the blood flowing," he says, his tone calm and soothing. Plankton nods, his eye unfocused. Karen's hand is a comforting weight on his shoulder, her voice a lullaby as she repeats the instructions back to him. "We'll go get some ice cream," she says, her tone hopeful. "Something soft and sweet to help your mouth feel better. Ready to meet Chip out in the lobby?" Plankton nods, his movements jerky and awkward. The numbness in his mouth still lingers, his tongue a dead weight as he tries to speak. "I-I...finks...sho." His voice is a slurred mess, but the meaning is clear. Karen laughs gently, her hands moving to help him sit up. "Let's go, then," she says, her voice filled with relief and love. Plankton's eye widens slightly as he takes in his surroundings, his movements still slow and sluggish. The doctor nods, his expression a mix of pride and sympathy. Her arm is around him, supporting his weight as she helps him stand up.

DO YOU TRUST ME pt. 23 𝖠𝗎𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗋'𝗌 𝖣𝗂𝗌𝖼𝗅𝖺𝗂𝗆𝖾𝗋 𝖭𝗈𝗍𝖾 𝘐 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘵. 𝘐'𝘮 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘚𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘮 𝘮𝘺𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧. 𝘐 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘤 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘭𝘶𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘐'𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘥𝘥 𝘮𝘺 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴. 𝘚𝘰 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦, 𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘴𝘮 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘴 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺. 𝘞𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘩, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘷𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴. 𝘐 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘪𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘨𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶. ( emojicombos.com/neurofabulous ) Plankton's legs feel like jelly, his movements exaggerated as he tries to follow her lead. His tongue is a clumsy thing in his mouth, his teeth a strange, unfamiliar landscape. "C-Chip," he stammers, his speech still slurred. Karen nods, her smile warm and encouraging. "Let's go," she says, her arm around him. The hallway is a blur of colors and sounds. His antennae twitch, trying to make sense of the world around him. Chip is in the lobby, his eyes wide with worry as he sees them. He rushes forward, his movements cautious. "What happe—" But Plankton is a mess of gauze, his words still lost as he interrupts his son. "Hi-Hi-Hi-Hi—" He stammers, his voice a slurred mess. Chip's eyes widen with concern, taking in his father's swollen face and the crimson-soaked pads in his mouth. He swallows hard, his voice trembling. "Dad?" Karen steps in, her voice firm but gentle. "He just had his wisdom teeth taken out," she explains. "His mouth is still numb." Chip nods, his eyes never leaving Plankton's face. Plankton tries to smile around the gauze, his antennae waving in an awkward attempt at reassurance. "T-thank you," he slurs, his voice muffled by the pads. Chip's eyes fill with tears at the sight of his father, his heart heavy with a mix of pity and love. They make their way slowly to the car, Karen's supportive arm around Plankton's waist. His legs feel like rubber, his body still fighting the lingering effects of the anesthesia. "M-muh...m-m-mouth," he mumbles, his tongue a sluggish beast in his mouth. Karen laughs softly, her hands guiding him gently. "You'll be okay," she says, her voice a warm embrace. "Let's get you in the back with Chip." She opens the door to the back. Plankton slumps into his seat, the numbness in his mouth spreading to his cheeks. His tongue is a thick, unresponsive slab, refusing to cooperate. Karen buckles him in, her eyes full of love and concern. "Just relax, baby," she whispers. "We'll be home soon." She starts the car, the engine purring to life. Chip sits by him in the seat. The world outside the window is a blur of colors, each one more vivid than the last. Plankton tries to keep his eye open, his antennae twitching with the effort. But the weight of the anesthesia is too much. His eyelid droops, the lid feeling like heavy curtains that refuse to stay up. Karen's voice is gentle. "You okay, sweetie?" she asks, glancing in the rearview mirror. But Plankton's eye is closing, the weight of the anesthesia too great to fight. "J-just tiwed," he mumbles, his speech still thick and slurred. "S-sleep, must shay awake?" Karen's voice is a warm whisper. "It's okay," she says. Plankton's head lolls against the seat, his antennae drooping. "Chip and I are here. We'll watch over yo-" But her words are lost as Plankton's eyelid gives way to the seductive pull of sleep. His breaths deepen, his snores a gentle accompaniment to the hum of the engine. Chip's gaze is filled with concern, his hand tentative as he touches his father's arm. "Dad?" His voice is a soft question, but Plankton doesn't stir. The car sways gently with the road's undulations, a lullaby that Plankton's exhausted body can't resist. Karen's eyes flicker to the mirror, a sigh escaping her lips. She knows the importance of rest for him now, his system still reeling from the surgery and the overwhelming emotions of the day. She keeps driving, her hands steady on the wheel. "It's okay, Chip," she says. "Let him sleep." Chip nods, his expression a mix of relief and worry. He watches his father's chest rise and fall, the steady rhythm of his breathing a testament to the peace he's found in slumber. His hand remains on Plankton's arm, a silent pledge of support. Yet Plankton sleeps on, oblivious to the world outside. The car ride home is quiet, the only sounds the hum of the engine and Plankton's snores. Karen drives with a gentle touch, each bump in the road a reminder of the fragile recovery her husband is experiencing. She glances in the mirror every few minutes, checking on him and Chip. Chip sits next to his father, his hand resting lightly on Plankton's arm. He's torn between watching the scenery fly by and keeping vigil over the man he loves. His heart thuds with every snore, his mind racing with worries and questions. Is he okay? Why can't he stay awake? The car's air conditioning blows gently on Plankton's face, his antennae muscles twitching against the coolness. His eye opens briefly, his gaze unfocused. "Ch-Chip?" His voice is a faint rasp, the remnants of sleep clinging to his words. "I'm right here, Dad," Chip says, his voice filled with concern. Plankton's eyelid flickers, battling the weight of slumber. The world is a swirl of colors and light, his brain struggling to make sense of it all. He tries to sit up, his body stiff from the lingering anesthesia. "Home?" he mumbles. Karen's eyes meet his in the mirror, her smile soft. "Almost, baby," she says, her voice a gentle lull. "Just a little bit longer." Her eyes flick back to the road, her grip on the steering wheel steady. Plankton's eyelid droops again, his head rolling slightly to the side. His antennae twitch with the effort to stay conscious, but the pull of sleep is too much. Chip's grip on his arm tightens, his voice a soft alarm. "Dad, stay with me." Plankton's eye opens a crack, his gaze unfocused. "M-m-m'kay," he mumbles, his speech still slurred. But the fight is lost almost immediately, his eye closing once more. The car sways with the road, a gentle rocking motion that seems to call to him, urging him back to sleep. Each snore is deeper than the last, his body succumbing to the sleep. Karen's eyes remain on the road, her thoughts a silent vigil. Chip's hand moves to his father's shoulder, his touch light but firm. "Wake up, Dad," he whispers, his voice a gentle prod. But Plankton's body resists, his head rolling back into the comfort of the seat. "Dad, wake up," Chip tries again, his tone more insistent this time. Plankton's eye opens a slit, the world swimming into focus briefly before slipping away again. "Wh-whath?" he murmurs, his voice a slurred mess. "Almost home," Karen says, her voice soothing. "Just stay awake a little longer." But the drugs are too powerful, the sedative's grip too tight. His eye closes again, his head falling back onto the headrest with a soft thunk. Chip watches, his heart racing, his hand still gripping his father's shoulder. "Come on, Dad," he whispers, his voice desperate. "Don't go to sleep." Karen's eyes meet his in the mirror, a look of understanding. "It's okay, Chip," she says. "Let him rest." The car pulls into the driveway, the gravel crunching beneath the tires. Plankton's eye flutters open, his gaze unfocused. "Home," he mumbles, his voice barely a whisper. Karen's eyes are filled with gentle concern as she turns off the engine. "Let's get you inside," she says, her voice a comforting balm. Chip's hands are already moving, helping his father unbuckle his seatbelt. Plankton's movements are slow and clumsy, his body still not fully his own. His legs wobble as he tries to stand, his eye glazed with the lingering effects of the anesthesia. "Easy, Dad," Chip says, his voice steady and firm. Karen opens the passenger side door, her arms ready to catch him if he falls. Plankton's sleeping body sags into her embrace. She helps him to his feet, yet Plankton's snores punctuate the air like a soft metronome. Chip rushes around to the other side, his arms slipping under his father's shoulders. "I got you," he says, his voice shaking with the weight of his words. Plankton's body is a dead weight, his snores deep and even. Karen's eyes are filled with a mix of pride and concern as she watches her son take charge. "Let's get you to the couch," she says, guiding them both. The house is quiet, the only sounds their footsteps and Plankton's snores. They manage to get him to the couch, his body slumping into the cushions. Karen pulls the gauze from his mouth, the stains of blood and saliva telling the tale of his journey. His cheeks are swollen and bruised, a testament to the battle his mouth just endured. "Chip, grab some ice," she instructs, her voice calm. "We'll need to keep the swelling down." Chip nods, his movements swift as he disappears into the kitchen. The sound of ice cubes clinking against plastic is a sharp contrast to the quiet snores that fill the room. "Wake up, sweetie," she says, her voice a soft coax. Plankton's antennae twitch, his eye opening slowly. He tries to focus, but the world is a blur of colors and shapes. Karen's face swims into view, her smile a beacon of comfort. "Ice," she says. Chip appears, a bag of crushed ice in his hand. He gently presses it to Plankton's cheek, the coldness a stark contrast to the warmth of his mother's touch. "Tanks," Plankton whispers, his speech still slurred. His hand moves to the bag, his fingers trembling. But this time he doesn't tremble from being overwhelmed—it's from the relief of being home, of being safe with his family.

𝖳𝖮 𝖢𝖧𝖠𝖭𝖦𝖤 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖶𝖮𝖱𝖫𝖣 pt. 4 Sequel to Autism And All by NeuroFabulous https://emojicombos.com/autism-and-all Read the Autism And All one first! Plankton's words come out in a slurry mess, and Karen understands he's trying to share his thoughts with them. "Cwouds...hampy clows. Wheah's the moo...moo? Moo...moom," he mumbles. "Wha...whath's that?" he asks, his eye searching the sky for something that's not there. Karen's laughter fills the car, lightening the mood. "It's just the sun, sweetie," she says. Chip looks at his dad with a mix of amusement and concern. "You ok?" he asks, his voice tentative. Plankton nods, his smile little more than a twitch of his lips as drool starts to form at the corner of his mouth. "Mom," Chip says, his voice tinged with concern. "He's fine, Chip. It's just the medicine wearing off." Karen answers as they pull up into the garage, Plankton's speech still slurred. "Wheath we gothin?" Plankton mumbles. "We're going inside, sweetie," Karen says, helping him out of the car. His legs feel like jelly, his body moving in slow motion as they make their way into the house. The lights seem too bright, the noises too loud. "Mom," Chip whispers, his eyes wide. "Is he ok?" "He's fine," she whispers back, her voice a gentle reminder of their earlier conversation. "This is normal after anesthesia." Inside, Plankton leans heavily on Karen, his eye half-closed. "Bed," he mumbles. Karen nods, guiding him towards the bedroom. "Come on, honey," she says, her voice a soothing balm to his frayed nerves. "Let's get you to bed." The bed feels heavenly under his weight, the covers a warm embrace. Plankton sighs contentedly, his body melting into the softness. His mind is a whirlwind of sensations, but the comfort of the bed grounds him. Karen watches him. The slurred speech and confusion are a stark contrast to his usual sharp and focused self. But she knows this is just the medicine wearing off. Gently, she starts to remove the gauze from his mouth. Plankton's eye opens a crack, his pupil wide with uncertainty. "It's ok," she whispers, her voice soothing. "Let's get this out of here." "Mm-hmm," he murmurs. The gauze is sticky and uncomfortable, but he trusts her. Karen's hands are careful, her movements precise as she works to free his mouth from the confines of the cotton. Plankton winces, his mouth feeling dull and tender. The room tilts slightly as he closes his eye, his body surrendering to the exhaustion that follows surgery. "Now, would you like some i---" But Plankton's already snoring softly, lost to the world. Karen's laughter fills the space between them. She knew he'd be sore later though, not to mention his autistic sensitivities to managing pain.. The next morning, Plankton wakes with a sore mouth and the anesthesia gone. He manages to open his eye. The room is a blur of light and shadow, his gums pounding with a dull throb. His jaw feels achy, his tongue swollen and uncooperative. He tries to sit up as Karen greets him. "How are you feeling, honey?" "Wisdom teeth?" he asks, his memory a haze. Karen smiles. "Yes, sweetie. You had surgery yesterday. Everything went fine." Plankton nods slowly, his eye searching hers for reassurance as Chip comes in to check on his dad. "Hey, Dad," Chip says, his voice soft. "How's the mouth?" Plankton's eye twitches. "Hurt," he manages, his words muffled by the swollen tissue. Karen brings Plankton ice packs. She knows his sensory sensitivities, and how this disruption can overwhelm him. "Thanks, love," he says, his voice a rasp. Karen knew that Plankton's autism means recovery will be more challenging, his senses heightened. "You have to stay calm," Karen instructs Chip, "He needs a quiet environment to heal." Chip nods as he sits on the bed next to Plankton. Plankton's eye opens slightly as the cold ice presses against his cheek. The chill runs through him, a stark relief against the heat of his swollen gums. "It's ok," Karen whispers, her voice a balm to his pain. "It'll help with the swelling." He nods, his hand gripping the ice pack tightly. The room is too bright, the sounds too sharp. His mind craves the familiar comfort of his routines, his stims, but his body won't cooperate. Karen notices his distress, her hand gentle as it brushes his forehead. "You need some space, Plankton?" she asks, reading his cues. He nods, his breath coming in shallow pants. She nods and goes to sit on her bed adjacent to his own. Yet Karen sees the struggle play out across his features with the effort to keep calm, his body tight with tension. Chip, still sitting by his dad, wants to help. He starts to fiddle with his fidget toy, the soft click-clack of the gears echoing in the silence. Plankton's eye snaps open, his gaze drawn to the movement. "Chip, stop," he mumbles, his voice a mixture of pain and irritation. But Chip, eager to distract his father from his own discomfort, doesn't hear the edge in Plankton's voice. The clicking grows faster, each movement a blur of colors and shapes. Plankton's heart starts to race, his body tensing. "Chip," he says more firmly this time. But Chip's fingers dance on the fidget, his eyes focused on his task. The noise and visual assault are too much for Plankton's sensitive system. His face contorts. "Chip, please," Plankton whispers, his voice strained. Chip finally looks up, his expression one of innocent curiosity. "What, Dad? I--" But he doesn't get to finish his sentence. Plankton's hand snatches the fidget toy, his movements jerky. The room seems to shrink, the air thick with tension. Chip's eyes widen, realizing his mistake. "Dad, I'm sor—" But Plankton's agitation has reached a peak. He thrusts the fidget toy away. The plastic clatters on the floor, a jolting sound that pierces the silence. "Too...much," he manages to get out, his voice strained. Chip's cheeks flush with embarrassment and guilt. He didn't mean to upset his father. He just wanted to help. "Sorry," Chip whispers, picking up the toy, which only makes Plankton's anger spike further. The sudden movement of Chip's hand, the sharp sound of the fidget— it's like a storm in his mind. "No!" Plankton yells, his voice raw. Chip freezes, his heart racing. "Dad," he starts, his voice shaky. "I didn't mean..." But Plankton's already flailing, trying to push away the chaos that's invaded his space. Karen quickly moves to intervene. "Chip," she says, her voice firm yet calm. "Remember what we talked about." Chip nods, understanding dawning on his face. He'd forgotten the rules of their world, the delicate balance that keeps Plankton's sanity intact. He'd wanted to help, but instead, he'd added to the storm raging within his dad. She takes the fidget toy from Chip, placing it on the nightstand. "I'm sorry," Plankton whispers, his eye darting around the room. He's lost in his own head, the pain making it difficult to focus. "It's ok," Karen soothes, her touch gentle on his arm. "Let's dim the lights and make it quieter." She pulls the shades closed, the harsh daylight retreating to a soft glow. Chip nods, his expression solemn. "I'll go to my room," he says, his voice small. Plankton's gaze meets his son's, a silent apology passing between them. "Thanks, buddy," he says, his voice a gruff whisper.

𝖳𝖮 𝖢𝖧𝖠𝖭𝖦𝖤 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖶𝖮𝖱𝖫𝖣 pt. 5 Sequel to Autism And All by NeuroFabulous https://emojicombos.com/autism-and-all Read the Autism And All one first! Karen sits on the bed, her presence a comforting weight. "Would you like me to stay?" she asks, her voice gentle. Plankton nods, his body still tight with pain. He closes his eye, his mind racing with the discomfort. He tries to focus on his breath, in and out, in and out. But the throb in his mouth is a constant reminder of agony that threatens to overwhelm. Then, Plankton starts to talk to himself to self-soothe. "It's safe," he whispers. "Can water's just fine." Karen watches him, knowing this is a way of regaining control, his mind trying to find peace in order to rest. She knows that the pain, the sensory assault, the confusion—it's all too much. But she also knows that he has the willpower to push through. "Was do it" Plankton whispers to himself. "I told him but he didn't listen," he murmurs, his thoughts racing with the memory of the fidget toy. "It's my fault," he adds. "Not my place to correct him, do not touch." His words are a jumble of regret and frustration. "It's okay," Plankton says again. "The healing safe. It's just a feeling." He repeats this mantra, his breath evening out. Karen can see the tension in his shoulders easing, his grip on the ice pack loosening as his body relaxes. "You're doing great," Karen whispers. "Just rest." And with that, Plankton's body gives in to the call of sleep, his breaths trailing off into soft snores. Karen watches her husband with a mix of love and sadness. Chip lingers by the door, his curiosity piqued. He wonders if his dad's autism is the reason behind it. With tentative steps, Chip enters the room. Karen takes his hand in hers, and he follows her out of the room and in to the hallway. "Mom," he starts, his voice barely a whisper. "Why is Dad autistic?" Karen looks down at him, her expression thoughtful. "Well, Chip," she says, her voice soft. "Your dad was born that way." Chip nods. "But w---" "Autism is something that develops in the brain before birth," Karen continues. "It's like how some people are right-handed and others are left-handed. It's just how his brain is wired." Chip looks at her with a frown. "But why did Dad...?" "Why did it happen?" Karen finishes his question. She takes a deep breath, preparing to explain. "You see, sometimes during pregnancy or childbirth, something small can change you. When his mom was giving birth, his brain might have gotten a little squeezed and then not enough oxygen. It's just the way his brain grew because of that, that's all." Chip nods slowly, trying to understand. "So as dad was being born..." "Yes," Karen says, her voice soothing. "His brain was forming its connections, and that little squeeze changed the way his brain makes those connections. It's like if you're building a Lego castle and one piece gets bent. It doesn't mean the castle can't be amazing, it's just a tiny part of it that's a bit different." Chip looks up at his mom, his eyes wide. "But does that mean I could be like Dad if I squ--" "No, Chip," she says, cutting off his words gently. "It's not that simple. Autism is just nothing you can catch or change, and it's not something you need to be afraid of." Chip nods, his gaze still fixed on her. "But why does he get so upset sometimes?" Karen sighs. "Because the world can be a very overwhelming place for him, Chip. His brain picks up on every little thing— sounds, smells, sights—it's all so intense. And sometimes, those things get too much, and his brain can't keep up. It's like when you're playing a video game and the screen is flashing too fast—it's hard to focus." "But why does he get mad?" Chip persists. Karen kneels down to look him in the eye. "It's not that he's mad, honey. It's just his way of dealing with it. Imagine if you had a headache and someone was shining a bright light in your face—you'd want them to stop, right? It's like that, but with anything." Chip nods, understanding dawning. "So, when the fidget was making noise, it was like a headache for Dad?" Karen smiles. "Exactly. And when he tells you something is too much, it's not that he's upset with you—it's his brain telling him he needs a break." Plankton's snores from the bedroom remind them of the present. "Let's let Dad rest," Karen says, steering Chip towards his own room. "But what about his teeth?" Chip asks, his voice laced with worry. Karen's smile is reassuring. "They'll feel better soon, and we'll have to be extra gentle with him. No loud noises, no surprises. Ok?" Chip nods. In the quiet of the living room, Karen and Chip begin to set up a recovery area for Plankton—a space free from the chaos that could easily overwhelm his fragile state. They gather his favorite pillows, a soft blanket, and dim the lights. Chip wants to make sure his dad feels safe. On the coffee table, they lay out a tray with a glass of water. Karen knows that it's important not to startle Plankton, that he might need help getting up without disturbing his mouth. "Let's go to see him." Karen says. As they enter the bedroom, Plankton's snores have subsided into a gentle rhythm. Chip tiptoes over, his eyes wide. He's seen his dad tired before, but this is different. He looks smaller, somehow, more vulnerable. Gently, he touches his dad's arm.. Plankton's eye snaps open, his body jerking upright. The movement sends a shock of pain through his mouth. "Agh!" he yelps, his hands shooting up to clutch his cheeks. Chip jumps back, his eyes wide with alarm. "Dad!" He says loudly. But now Plankton's even more overwhelmed, and Karen notices his somewhat distant gaze. "Chip, remember what we talked about," Karen whispers. "Use a quiet voice." Chip nods and speaks more softly. "Dad, are you ok?" Plankton blinks, his mind racing. "Dad?" Chip tries again, his voice barely a murmur. Plankton's breath hitches. "It's me, Chip! You're home. You had surgery. Remembe---" But Plankton's eye darts around the room, his mind a swirling vortex of pain and disorientation as Chip talks to fast. Karen quickly moves to his side, her touch grounding him. "It's ok," she whispers. "You're safe. You're home." And then, he starts to talk to himself. "No...no...no...yes...yes...yes," he murmurs. Karen knows that he's retreated due to the overwhelm. It's happened before, where he's seemingly on autopilot. "Water's okay, can't talk right now," Plankton whispers to the empty space. His eye darts back to Chip, then to the ceiling. "No, no, no," he says again, his voice getting quieter. Karen's heart aches, seeing her husband so lost in his own head. She's seen this before—his autism taking control when the world was too much to handle. Chip however doesn't really understand. "Dad?" Chip whispers, his voice shaky. Plankton doesn't respond, his eye locked on the ceiling fan spinning above them. "It's ok," Karen says, her voice a soft reminder. "Sometimes his brain is on backup." She strokes his arm gently, knowing his semiconscious state isn't abnormal for him, as Plankton's monologue continues. "Need to count...one...two... three..." His voice trails off. Chip watches. "Is he ok?" He asks, his voice trembling. Karen nods. "This is his way of dealing with things," she whispers. "Let's just give him some time." Plankton's eye darts between them, his mouth forming words without thought. "Red...blue...green," he says, as if naming colors he's seeing in the air. "Big...small...far... near." Karen knows he's not really seeing anything, his mind a kaleidoscope of sensory input that's difficult to process. "Why?" Plankton asks no one in particular. "Will it be the one? It's just a feeling," he murmurs, trying to convince himself. Karen understands it's his brain's attempt to organize the overwhelming stimuli, but Chip looks on with a mix of concern and confusion. "It's ok," Chip whispers, his hand hovering over his dad's. He wants to help, but doesn't know how. Karen smiles at him, nodding. "You can talk to him, buddy. Just keep it low." Chip nods and sits on the edge of the bed. "Hey Dad," Chip says, his voice barely above a whisper. Plankton's eye flips over to him, but he doesn't seem to see him. "It's me, Chip. We're here," Chip says, trying to provide comfort.

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 𝟷.𝟶𝟼ᴋ At the Neptune Medical Center, Karen parks the car and goes with her husband Plankton into the building after an injury to his antenna. "I still don't see why you didn't press charges against Krabs, Sheldon," Karen sighs, as they walk through the gleaming, sterile corridors of the medical center. "Karen I'm not gonna give him the satisfaction." Plankton's antenna now hangs limp and damaged. The doctor had assured him it was a simple repair job, yet Plankton's nerves were as frayed as the antenna itself. They enter the reception area, the automatic doors whispering shut behind them, as if sealing off the outside world's chaos. The smell of antiseptic fills the air, mingling with the faint scent of fear and hope. The receptionist, a young squid with a friendly smile, looks up from her computer screen. "Mr. Plankton, your appointment is with Dr. Marlin, the antenna specialist," she says, her tentacles typing efficiently. "You can go straight to the third floor, room 304." The elevator ride is silent, save for the rhythmic ding of each passing floor. Karen notices his distant gaze and squeezes his arm reassuringly. "You'll be fine, Sheldon," she whispers. Plankton nods. They arrive at room 304, and Karen opens the door, revealing a state-of-the-art examination room. Dr. Marlin, an octopus with a gleaming scalpel in one tentacle and a clipboard in another, looks up from his notes. "Ah, Mr. Sheldon Plankton, right on time," he says, his eight eyes blinking in unison. "I understand you've had a bit of an injury?" Plankton nods, his voice tight. "Krabs... he... snapped it." Dr. Marlin's tentacles twitch in concern. "Mr. Eugene Krabs, eh? He's had his share of accidents around here." He scribbles something on the clipboard. "Well, let's get you fixed up. I've seen worse, and you're in good hands." The doctor leads Plankton to the examination chair, which is surprisingly comfortable for someone so tiny. He adjusts the chair's height and angles the light to shine on the antenna. Plankton winces as the doctor gently prods the damaged area. "It's definitely snapped," Dr. Marlin says, his voice calm and professional. "But the good news is, it's not to far gone. We can repair it with a simple procedure." "You'll need to be under for this," he explains. "It's nothing to worry about. You'll be out Before you know it." Plankton's heart races as he lies back in the chair, the cold metal pressing against his back. He glances at Karen, who gives him a forced smile, her screen filled with concern. The doctor notices and pats his shoulder reassuringly. "It's just a little sleep," he says. "You'll be back in no time." Karen reaches for his hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. The anesthesiologist, a bluefish with a gentle demeanor, enters the room, pushing a trolley with a variety of bottles and tubes. She introduces herself as Nurse Bella and explains that she'll be administering the anesthesia for the surgery. Plankton swallows hard, eye darting from her to Karen's screen and back again. Karen's gaze follows the anesthesiologist, Nurse Bella, as she meticulously prepares. "Ready? Count as high as you can," she asks, her voice as soft as a lullaby. Plankton nods, his grip on Karen's hand tightening. "One... two... three..." Plankton's voice starts strong, but the medicine's effect begins to take hold. His eyelid grow heavy, and the numbers begin to slur. Karen watches as Plankton's count descends into a whisper. "Five... six... sev..." His tiny hand relaxes in hers, and his body goes slack. She watches the rise and fall of his chest slow as he succumbs to the anesthesia. Karen squeezes his hand one last time. The door to the exam room opens again, and Dr. Marlin's head pokes out. "Everything's gone well," Dr. Marlin says, peering over his mask. "We're to halt anesthesia." "You're okay," Karen whispers, her voice cracking. "You're okay." "He's doing great," the nurse whispers. "You can talk to him if you'd like. Sometimes they can hear you." Karen leans closer, her voice low and soothing. "Hey, Plankton, it's Karen. You're safe now. They've fixed your antenna. No more pain, okay?" Her thoughts are interrupted by a soft groan from the bed. Karen's screen snap to Plankton, who's beginning to stir under the blankets. "Shh," she whispers, stroking his arm. "You're safe." "K...Karen?" His eye opens. "Yes, it's me. You're okay, you're in the hospital. They've fixed your antenna." "Karen... antenna... Krabby Patty... wait, what?" He giggles, the words jumbling together in a way that makes no sense. Plankton's eye widen with childlike excitement. "Oh, right! The antenna!" He tries to touch the bandage but ends up nearly slapping himself in the face with his own arm. "Oops!" He giggles again, the sound echoing through the quiet room. He tries to sit up, but cannot. "Whoa, Nelly!" "Easy," Karen laughs. "I'm the king of the jellyfish prom! They got no flair!" Once in the car, Karen buckles him in with care, double-checking the seatbelt. "Remember, no funny business," she warns. Plankton's eye droop, and his head lolls to the side. "You're going to sleep, aren't you?" she says, her voice a mix of amusement and exhaustion. "M'not sleeping," Plankton mumbles, his eyelid fluttering, his voice fading into a snore. The drive home is peaceful, with Plankton snoring lightly beside her. As they approach their place, she gently shakes him awake. "We're home, Sheldon," she says, her voice gentle. "Can you wake up for me?" Plankton's eye blink open, and he looks around in confusion. "Home?" he mumbles. "Already?" Karen nods with a smirk. "Yeah, you slept through the whole drive. Came out of it just in time." They get out of the car, and Plankton wobbles slightly on his legs, the after-effects of the anesthesia still lingering. Karen wraps an arm around his waist, supporting him as they make their way to the front door. With a chuckle, Karen helps him inside, the warm light of their living room washing over them. Plankton's snores become more pronounced as they move through the hallway. "Come on, you need to get to bed," she says, leading him to their bedroom. The room is cozy, with a large bed that seems to swallow Plankton whole as he collapses into it. Karen carefully pulls the covers up to his chin. "Rest now," she whispers, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead.

"We removed Plankton's wisdom teeth. He's still asleep, you can stay with him." Said the oral surgeon to Karen. They've just finished and lead Karen into the room. Plankton is lying in the hospital bed, his face a mask of peace, the only signs of the recent surgery being the gauze in his mouth and the drool seeping out the side. His cheeks are slightly swollen, and she wonders when he'll wake up. The doctor said it could take a while. The IV line snakes up his arm. Karen pulls a chair up beside the bed. She takes his hand and holds it gently, feeling the warmth of his skin contrast with the coolness of her own palm. The room is sterile, the air conditioning humming steadily in the background. The faint smell of disinfectant fills the space. She looks around the room, noticing the monitors beeping in rhythm with Plankton's breathing and heart rate. The nurse comes in and checks the machines, making a few quiet notes on a clipboard. She smiles at Karen, "He's doing well. Just let him sleep. It's the best thing right now." Karen nods, squeezing Plankton's hand slightly, willing him to feel her presence. She wonders what dreams he's having, if any, behind his closed lid. Time seems to crawl as Karen watches him sleep. She tries to read a book, but the words blur together. Her thoughts drift to their lives before this moment, their shared laughter, their arguments, the quiet moments of understanding. Her gaze lingers on his swollen cheeks, his chest rising and falling with each breath. A soft groan escapes his lips and his eye begins to flutter open. Slowly, Plankton comes to, his vision blurred by the anesthesia's last hangover. He blinks, trying to focus on Karen's face. She sets aside her book and smiles at him, her screen welcoming him back to the world of the conscious. "Hi," she says softly. "How are you feeling?" Plankton makes a sound that's somewhere between a whine and a grunt. His eye wanders the room before finally settling on hers. "What...what happened?" he slurs, the words barely audible through the gauze. Karen's smile widens a bit. "You had your wisdom teeth removed, remember?" He nods slightly. The nurse reappears, checking his vitals again with a gentle touch. "Time to go home," she says, removing the gauze. They make their way out of the hospital, Karen supporting Plankton gently as he stumbles, his legs still wobbly from the anesthesia. The sun is setting, casting long shadows across the parking lot. Karen helps Plankton into the car, buckling him in and adjusting the seat so he can lean back and rest. He nods off almost immediately, his breathing evening out as the car starts and they pull away from the hospital. The drive home is quiet, Plankton's snores punctuating the hum of the engine. Karen keeps glancing over, checking on him, her concern etched into every line on her screen. The pain medication is strong, keeping him in a half-awake state. Each time he wakes, he looks around, disoriented, before his eye finds hers and his expression relaxes. Once they arrive, Karen guides him to the couch, his body feeling heavier than ever before. He slumps into the cushions and she grabs the ice pack from the cooler. "Hold this to your cheeks," she instructs, placing the cold compress against his skin. He nods obediently, his eye already glazing over with the promise of sleep. The TV flickers on, its blue light washing over the room. Karen finds a sitcom they both enjoy, hoping the familiar laughter will ease his pain and keep them both company. But Plankton's snores soon overpower the TV's audio, his head lolling to the side. She smiles, knowing he's in a deep slumber, and covers him with a blanket. The house is eerily quiet except for the steady tick of the clock on the wall. Karen moves around the kitchen, preparing a soft meal for when he wakes, her mind racing with thoughts of what the next few days will be like. Plankton's recovery will be slow, but she's ready to take care of him. She's his rock, his support, and she'll do anything to help him feel better.

Plankton found himself in a sticky situation. In his haste, he collided with a submerged rock, and with a painful snap, one of his antennae broke dangling in half. His computer wife Karen took him to a clinic. The receptionist, a kind octopus named Tentacla, took his information and assured Dr. Dolittlefish would see him shortly. "Plankton?" Dr. Dolittlefish called out, his voice echoing through the room. Plankton walked in, Karen trailing behind. The doctor examined the fractured antenna. Plankton winced, feeling a sharp pain as the doctor prods it gently. Dr. Dolittlefish chuckled, "We'll need to perform a repair, and for that, you'll need a touch of anesthesia. It'll make you feel like you're floating on a cloud.." Plankton's one good antenna perked up with interest. "A magical elixir that will put you into a state of deep relaxation," Dr. Dolittlefish explained, his eyes twinkling behind his spectacles. "You'll be completely unaware of the surgery. We give you a little dose to make you drowsy. It's like sinking into a warm, bubble bath after a long day of plotting. Trust me, you'll wake up with a fixed antenna and no memories of the procedure. It's like a nap that'll keep you unconscious and pain-free throughout the operation. It's tailored for each patient, so you'll only get what you need." Turning to Karen, who had been quietly observing the exchange, the doctor said, "Karen, if you have any concerns, feel free to ask. Your husband's safety is my top priority. I'll be sure to take into account." Karen sighed, her circuits whirring as she searched for the right words. "Well, Plankton has always had trouble with deep sleep. He's a bit of a light sleeper, you see. Even the slightest disturbance and he's up for the day. It's hard for him to get to sleep." The doctor nodded, scribbling more notes. "I see," he said thoughtfully. "That does add a layer of complexity to the anesthesia. We'll need to be precise with the dosage to ensure he remains asleep throughout the surgery without any complications. We'll use the lightest touch possible and administer the anesthesia in a way that minimizes discomfort." Dr. Dolittlefish turned to Plankton. "Now, when you wake up, it'll be like coming out of a delightful dream. You'll feel a bit groggy, like you've just emerged from a particularly long nap. You might be a tad disoriented, but that's perfectly normal. Your body will be feeling the effects of the medication wearing off, so it's crucial that you rest for a while in our recovery area." Plankton's eye searched Karen', looking for reassurance. She nodded firmly, gripping his tiny hand. "You'll be okay, Plankton. I'll be right here." The doctor nodded. "Karen, you can accompany him into the surgery room. But remember, you'll have to go and stay outside once the actual procedure begins." The next day, Plankton and Karen returned to the clinic, feeling a mix of anxiety and hope. The lobby was filled with various sea creatures, all waiting for their appointments with their own assortment of woes and ailments. "Come on, Plankton," Karen urged, her voice steady. "You've got this." Dr. Dolittlefish took his place at the head of the operating table, a serious look on his face. "Alright, Plankton," he said, his voice steady, "It's time for the anesthesia. This might feel a bit strange, but remember, it's just like drifting off to sleep." With a flick of his fin, he administered the first dose through a small tube connected to a bubble filled with the sedative. The bubble popped, and Plankton felt a warm sensation spread through his body. It started in his toes and traveled up to his antennae, making them feel weightless. His eye grew heavier, and he couldn't help but let out a sigh. The room began to spin gently, the sounds around him becoming muffled, like the distant hum of a lullaby sung by the ocean currents. He felt himself sinking into the chair, the cushions seemingly made of the softest sea foam. "How do you feel?" Dr. Dolittlefish's voice was a comforting murmur. "Woozy," Plankton slurred, his eyelid fluttering. The room was a blur of lights and colors, like a kaleidoscope of bubbles. The pain in his antenna was fading, replaced by a pleasant numbness. Karen squeezed his hand tightly, her grip the only solid thing in his swirling world. She watched him closely, her LED eyes full of worry. "It's ok, Plankton," she murmured. "You're going to be fine." The doctor nodded to her encouragement. "I want you to count backwards from one hundred ok?" Plankton, already feeling the warm embrace of the anesthesia, began his count with a lazy sensation. "One hundred... ninety-nine... ninety-eight..." His voice grew softer with each number, the digits slipping away like grains of sand through his tiny fingers. The world around him grew fuzzy, like a TV show losing signal. The lights above looked like distant stars, their brightness dimming as he descended into the abyss of unconsciousness. "...eighty-four... eighty-three... eighty-two..." His eye now half-closed, the surgery room's noises melding into a symphony of comforting whispers. The gentle sway of the seaweed outside the clinic's windows seemed to be rocking him to sleep. His voice grew more faint, words slurring together. Karen watched him count, her gaze never leaving his face. She could feel his hand loosening in hers, his grip becoming as light as a feather. Each number he uttered was a step closer to the surgery that would hopefully restore his antenna to its former glory. The count grew slower, like a snail on a leisurely stroll across the ocean floor. His voice was a mere murmur, the words barely discernible. Karen could see his tiny chest rising and falling in a slow, rhythmic pattern, his breathing growing deeper and more relaxed with each passing moment. The colors around them bled into one another, creating a dreamlike landscape. The lights above danced like jellyfish in a moonlit lagoon, casting eerie shadows across the gleaming surgical instruments. Plankton's eye fully closed now, his count barely a whisper. Each word was a soft ripple in the vast ocean of sleep that was consuming him. The whirring of the machines and the occasional splash of water seemed to fade into the background, replaced by the steady rhythm of his breathing. Karen watched, her heart swelling with love and fear as she listened to the dwindling numbers. Plankton's voice was now a faint echo, his body going slack. The room was still, save for the hypnotic pulse of the anesthesia bubbles and Plankton's shallow breaths. Karen held her own breath, her screen never leaving his face. His count grew quieter still, each number a soft, barely perceptible sigh. Karen felt the tension in her limbs ease as she watched the lines of worry on Plankton's forehead smooth out. His sleep was finally deep and peaceful, the anesthesia working its magic. "Thirty-four... thirty-three..." His voice was a mere ripple in the vast sea of quiet that filled the room. The last number slipped away, and Plankton's count stopped, his breathing deep and even. Karen felt the weight of his hand in hers, a silent testament to his complete surrender to the anesthesia's embrace. She watched Plankton's chest rise and fall with each steady breath, his body utterly relaxed with his eye sealed shut slightly. The surgery room, once a cacophony of fear and doubt, was now a sanctuary of peace, the only sounds the rhythmic beep of the heart monitor and Plankton's soft snores. The doctor nodded, satisfied with the sedation's effect. "Alright, Karen, he finally fell asleep," he whispered, patting Plankton's shoulder. "Now, we'll proceed with the actual procedure." Karen swallowed hard, nodding her head. She had never seen Plankton so vulnerable, but she knew this was for the best. "I'll be right outside," she said, her voice wavering slightly. She leaned in and kissed Plankton's forehead before letting go. With a final squeeze of his hand, she reluctantly let go and went towards the door. The doctor nodded in understanding, his eyes focused on the delicate task ahead. As the door slid shut with a soft hiss, Karen found herself in the stark, sterile waiting room. The walls were lined with sea-themed art, an attempt to provide comfort in a place filled with uncertainty and anxiety. She hovered over to the plush sea sponge chair, the material reminding her of home. Her tentacles wrapped around the phone, her movements deliberate and precise as she dialed the numbers. The first call was to Spongebob, she knew he would want to know about the accident. The line rang, and she hoped he'd pick up. "Karen?" "Spongebob, it's about Plankton," she began, her voice trembling. "He's had an accident, and he's in surgery now." "Oh no!" Sponge Bob exclaimed, his bubbly enthusiasm dimming. "Can I talk to Plankton during the surgery?" "No, they put Plankton to sleep," Karen explained, her tentacles gripping the phone tightly. "But I'll let him know you called as soon as he wakes up." "Thank you, Karen," SpongeBob said, his voice filled with genuine concern. "Tell him I'm thinking of him." The receptionist, Tentacla, noticed her distress and swam over. "Is everything okay?" she asked, her tentacles poised to offer comfort or assistance. "It's just... I've never seen him like this," Karen admitted, her voice wavering. "So... vulnerable." Tentacla nodded sympathetically, her tentacles reaching out to pat Karen's arm. "It's tough, I know. But Dr. Dolittlefish is the best in the business. Plankton's in good fins."

ANTENNAE i Plankton found himself in a sticky situation. In his haste, he collided with a submerged rock, and with a painful snap, one of his antennae broke dangling in half. His computer wife Karen took him to a clinic. The receptionist, a kind octopus named Tentacla, took his information and assured Dr. Dolittlefish would see him shortly. "Plankton?" Dr. Dolittlefish called out, his voice echoing through the room. Plankton walked in, Karen trailing behind. The doctor examined the fractured antenna. Plankton winced, feeling a sharp pain as the doctor prods it gently. Dr. Dolittlefish chuckled, "We'll need to perform a repair, and for that, you'll need a touch of anesthesia. It'll make you feel like you're floating on a cloud.." Plankton's one good antenna perked up with interest. "A magical elixir that will put you into a state of deep relaxation," Dr. Dolittlefish explained, his eyes twinkling behind his spectacles. "You'll be completely unaware of the surgery. We give you a little dose to make you drowsy. It's like sinking into a warm, bubble bath after a long day of plotting. Trust me, you'll wake up with a fixed antenna and no memories of the procedure. It's like a nap that'll keep you unconscious and pain-free throughout the operation. It's tailored for each patient, so you'll only get what you need." Turning to Karen, who had been quietly observing the exchange, the doctor said, "Karen, if you have any concerns, feel free to ask. Your husband's safety is my top priority. I'll be sure to take into account." Karen sighed, her circuits whirring as she searched for the right words. "Well, Plankton has always had trouble with deep sleep. He's a bit of a light sleeper, you see. Even the slightest disturbance and he's up for the day. It's hard for him to get to sleep." The doctor nodded, scribbling more notes. "I see," he said thoughtfully. "That does add a layer of complexity to the anesthesia. We'll need to be precise with the dosage to ensure he remains asleep throughout the surgery without any complications. We'll use the lightest touch possible and administer the anesthesia in a way that minimizes discomfort." Dr. Dolittlefish turned to Plankton. "Now, when you wake up, it'll be like coming out of a delightful dream. You'll feel a bit groggy, like you've just emerged from a particularly long nap. You might be a tad disoriented, but that's perfectly normal. Your body will be feeling the effects of the medication wearing off, so it's crucial that you rest for a while in our recovery area." Plankton's eye searched Karen', looking for reassurance. She nodded firmly, gripping his tiny hand. "You'll be okay, Plankton. I'll be right here." The doctor nodded. "Karen, you can accompany him into the surgery room. But remember, you'll have to go and stay outside once the actual procedure begins." The next day, Plankton and Karen returned to the clinic, feeling a mix of anxiety and hope. The lobby was filled with various sea creatures, all waiting for their appointments with their own assortment of woes and ailments. "Come on, Plankton," Karen urged, her voice steady. "You've got this." Dr. Dolittlefish took his place at the head of the operating table, a serious look on his face. "Alright, Plankton," he said, his voice steady, "It's time for the anesthesia. This might feel a bit strange, but remember, it's just like drifting off to sleep." With a flick of his fin, he administered the first dose through a small tube connected to a bubble filled with the sedative. The bubble popped, and Plankton felt a warm sensation spread through his body. It started in his toes and traveled up to his antennae, making them feel weightless. His eye grew heavier, and he couldn't help but let out a sigh. The room began to spin gently, the sounds around him becoming muffled, like the distant hum of a lullaby sung by the ocean currents. He felt himself sinking into the chair, the cushions seemingly made of the softest sea foam. "How do you feel?" Dr. Dolittlefish's voice was a comforting murmur. "Woozy," Plankton slurred, his eyelid fluttering. The room was a blur of lights and colors, like a kaleidoscope of bubbles. The pain in his antenna was fading, replaced by a pleasant numbness. Karen squeezed his hand tightly, her grip the only solid thing in his swirling world. She watched him closely, her LED eyes full of worry. "It's ok, Plankton," she murmured. "You're going to be fine." The doctor nodded to her encouragement. "I want you to count backwards from one hundred ok?" Plankton, already feeling the warm embrace of the anesthesia, began his count with a lazy sensation. "One hundred... ninety-nine... ninety-eight..." His voice grew softer with each number, the digits slipping away like grains of sand through his tiny fingers. The world around him grew fuzzy, like a TV show losing signal. The lights above looked like distant stars, their brightness dimming as he descended into the abyss of unconsciousness. "...eighty-four... eighty-three... eighty-two..." His eye now half-closed, the surgery room's noises melding into a symphony of comforting whispers. The gentle sway of the seaweed outside the clinic's windows seemed to be rocking him to sleep. His voice grew more faint, words slurring together. Karen watched him count, her gaze never leaving his face. She could feel his hand loosening in hers, his grip becoming as light as a feather. Each number he uttered was a step closer to the surgery that would hopefully restore his antenna to its former glory. The count grew slower, like a snail on a leisurely stroll across the ocean floor. His voice was a mere murmur, the words barely discernible. Karen could see his tiny chest rising and falling in a slow, rhythmic pattern, his breathing growing deeper and more relaxed with each passing moment. The colors around them bled into one another, creating a dreamlike landscape. The lights above danced like jellyfish in a moonlit lagoon, casting eerie shadows across the gleaming surgical instruments. Plankton's eye fully closed now, his count barely a whisper. Each word was a soft ripple in the vast ocean of sleep that was consuming him. The whirring of the machines and the occasional splash of water seemed to fade into the background, replaced by the steady rhythm of his breathing. Karen watched, her heart swelling with love and fear as she listened to the dwindling numbers. Plankton's voice was now a faint echo, his body going slack. The room was still, save for the hypnotic pulse of the anesthesia bubbles and Plankton's shallow breaths. Karen held her own breath, her screen never leaving his face. His count grew quieter still, each number a soft, barely perceptible sigh. Karen felt the tension in her limbs ease as she watched the lines of worry on Plankton's forehead smooth out. His sleep was finally deep and peaceful, the anesthesia working its magic. "Thirty-four... thirty-three..." His voice was a mere ripple in the vast sea of quiet that filled the room. The last number slipped away, and Plankton's count stopped, his breathing deep and even. Karen felt the weight of his hand in hers, a silent testament to his complete surrender to the anesthesia's embrace. She watched Plankton's chest rise and fall with each steady breath, his body utterly relaxed with his eye sealed shut slightly. The surgery room, once a cacophony of fear and doubt, was now a sanctuary of peace, the only sounds the rhythmic beep of the heart monitor and Plankton's soft snores. The doctor nodded, satisfied with the sedation's effect. "Alright, Karen, he finally fell asleep," he whispered, patting Plankton's shoulder. "Now, we'll proceed with the actual procedure." Karen swallowed hard, nodding her head. She had never seen Plankton so vulnerable, but she knew this was for the best. "I'll be right outside," she said, her voice wavering slightly. She leaned in and kissed Plankton's forehead before letting go. With a final squeeze of his hand, she reluctantly let go and went towards the door. The doctor nodded in understanding, his eyes focused on the delicate task ahead. As the door slid shut with a soft hiss, Karen found herself in the stark, sterile waiting room. The walls were lined with sea-themed art, an attempt to provide comfort in a place filled with uncertainty and anxiety. She hovered over to the plush sea sponge chair, the material reminding her of home. Her tentacles wrapped around the phone, her movements deliberate and precise as she dialed the numbers. The first call was to Spongebob, she knew he would want to know about the accident. The line rang, and she hoped he'd pick up. "Karen?" "Spongebob, it's about Plankton," she began, her voice trembling. "He's had an accident, and he's in surgery now." "Oh no!" Sponge Bob exclaimed, his bubbly enthusiasm dimming. "Can I talk to Plankton during the surgery?" "No, they put Plankton to sleep," Karen explained, her tentacles gripping the phone tightly. "But I'll let him know you called as soon as he wakes up." "Thank you, Karen," SpongeBob said, his voice filled with genuine concern. "Tell him I'm thinking of him." The receptionist, Tentacla, noticed her distress and swam over. "Is everything okay?" she asked, her tentacles poised to offer comfort or assistance. "It's just... I've never seen him like this," Karen admitted, her voice wavering. "So... vulnerable." Tentacla nodded sympathetically, her tentacles reaching out to pat Karen's arm. "It's tough, I know. But Dr. Dolittlefish is the best in the business. Plankton's in good fins."

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."

CHIP OFF THE OLD TALKS i (Autistic Author) Karen went to the park. Her husband, Plankton, sat by her. Karen glanced over and saw the soft smile on his face, a smile that had greeted her every morning for the past twenty-five or so years. The park was alive with laughter, the distant sound of a ball bouncing off the pavement and the occasional squawk from a seagull. Plankton's eye were closed, his breathing slow and steady. He was enjoying the warmth of the afternoon sun on his face. Suddenly, their adopted son Chip burst into their peaceful scene, his cheeks flushed from running. He was holding a frisbee that had strayed from its intended path, and he called out to them with the enthusiasm of a young boy who had discovered something wonderful. "Look what I found!" he exclaimed, oblivious to the delicate moment he was interrupting. Plankton jolts. Karen's notices her husband's sudden movement. His eye open wide, and he stares into the distance unseeing, unblinking. She knows the signs all too well. Plankton is having one of his shutdowns. But Chip's dart between the frisbee and his parents, sensing something amiss. "Dad?" Chip says, tentatively. Karen jumps up and grabs Plankton's arm, gently squeezing to bring him back. "It's ok, honey," she whispers, her voice steady. Chip's smile fades as he sees his father's unresponsive state. He drops the frisbee, forgotten in his grip, and takes a cautious step closer. "What's happening?" he asks, his voice cracking. Plankton's body remains eerily still, like a statue. The only indication that he's alive is the faint rise and fall of his chest as he breathes. Karen's eyes dart around the area, checking if anyone has noticed. She doesn't want to draw unwanted attention. "It's ok, Dad's just taking a little break," she murmurs, setting the frisbee aside. He's never seen these before, nor knows the drill. Chip takes in Plankton's unblinking gaze. Karen feels a pang of guilt for keeping this part of Plankton's condition hidden from their kid. But it's a dance they've been performing for years, trying to maintain a sense of normalcy amidst Plankton's condition. Karen focuses solely on Plankton, willing him to come back to her. She feels the warmth of his hand under hers, but there's no response, no squeeze, no recognition of her touch. Karen's gaze is fixed on her husband's face, searching for any hint of life, any flicker of consciousness. She whispers his name, a soft mantra, trying to anchor him to reality. But Chip doesn't understand. His eyes are wide, full of fear and confusion as he watches his dad frozen in place. "What's a 'little break'?" he asks, voice trembling. Karen's heart tightens; she's always shielded Chip, hoping to spare him the worry and fear. "It's like when you zone out," she explains gently, hoping to relate it to something he might have experienced. "Remember when you were playing video games and I had to call you for dinner three times before you heard me?" Chip nods slowly, still glued to Plankton's unmoving form. "It's like that," Karen continues, "But for Dad, it happens without warning." Chip nods again, trying to process this new information. He's always known his dad was different, but seeing him like this is something he's never had to face before. He takes a deep breath and tries to hold back his tears, not wanting to scare Plankton when he wakes up. "What do we do?" he whispers, his voice shaky. Karen squeezes Plankton's hand gently, never leaving his face. "Just wait," she instructs Chip calmly. "These usually don't last long. But if you need to, you can tell anyone who asks that he's okay, just deep in thought." Chip nods, trying to mimic his mother's calm demeanor, but his eyes betray his anxiety. He's never seen his dad like this, never knew that these moments of stillness were a part of him. Plankton's condition, a form of autism, can leave him with anger issues and overload. Karen feels the weight of the secret they've kept from Chip all these years. Plankton's autistic neurodivergence had always been a part of their lives, but they had shielded their son from the full extent of it. They had hoped he would understand when he was older, but now the moment had come unplanned, and she wasn't sure if ready. "Why does Dad zone out?" Chip asks, his voice small. Karen sighs, deciding it's time for the truth. She sits down next to Plankton, keeping her hand on his arm. "Dad has something called 'neurodivergence', Chip. It's like his brain works differently than ours. Sometimes it helps him see the world in amazing ways, but it can also be hard for him. These little breaks are his brain's way of processing." Chip stares at her, trying to grasp the concept. "So, he's not just ignoring us?" "No, sweetie," Karen says. "He's not ignoring us. It's like his brain needs a time-out, like when you play for to long and your phone heats up and/or dies, but will still work eventually." The wind picks up, rustling through the leaves above them, and a chill runs down Chip's spine. He nods slowly, watching his dad's chest rise and fall in the silence. It's strange to see someone so still, so quiet, yet so obviously alive. "But why haven't you told me before?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. Karen's eyes well up with tears she quickly blinks away. "We wanted to protect you," she admits. "I didn't want you to be scared and he doesn’t want you to think of him differently." "But it's okay to think differently," Chip argues, his voice growing stronger. "Dad's always been there for me, even if he doesn't hug me a lot." Karen smiles sadly, stroking Plankton's arm. "It's not just about thinking differently, Chip. It's about how his brain processes things. Sometimes, too much sensory input can overwhelm him. That's why he might seem distant or not as affectionate as other dads. It's not because he doesn't like you," she reassures him. "It's because hugging or loud noises can be really intense for him." Chip's eyes widen with understanding. "So, that's why he doesn't like it when I jump on him?" "Yes," Karen nods. "But it doesn't mean he loves you any less. He just shows it in his own way. Like when he spends hours helping you build that Lego castle, or when he makes those amazing sea creature sculptures that you love so much." Chip's shoulders slump, and he sits down on the bench beside his mother, staring at his dad with a newfound curiosity. "Does he know I know now?" "I don't think so, honey," Karen says, her voice still low and soothing. "These episodes usually last just a few minutes. It's like he's somewhere else, but he'll come back to us." The park's sounds swirl around them, muffled by the tension that has settled in the air. Karen watches Plankton's expression, waiting for the telltale twitch of his antennae that signals his return to the present. Finally, Plankton blinks and looks at Karen, his gaze momentarily unfocused before recognition floods back into his eye. He looks around, startled by his surroundings, and then at Chip, who is staring at him. "What happened?" Plankton asks, his voice groggy. Karen releases a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. "You had one of your zoning-out moments," she says, her voice calm and gentle. Plankton looks at her, then at Chip, who is watching him with a mix of curiosity and fear. "I did?" Plankton's antennae twitch, and he rubs his head. "Yes," Karen says, her hand still on his arm. "Chip found a frisbee, remember?" Plankton's gaze shifts to the frisbee lying forgotten on the ground, then back to his son. He nods slowly, piecing the moments before together. "Ah," he murmurs, a hint of embarrassment crossing his face. Chip's curiosity outweighs his fear as he looks at his father. "Can I ask?" he asks tentatively. Karen nods, her heart swelling with pride at his bravery. "Of course, Chip." Chip looks at his dad, filled with questions. "Why’d you zone out?" he asks, his voice still hushed. "It's none of your business Chip," Plankton snaps, his eye flashing with a sudden fury that takes both Karen and Chip aback. His voice is harsh, the words cutting through the stillness of the park. Karen's heart sinks as she sees the hurt on Chip's face. Plankton's anger, a common side effect of his overload, surfaces without warning. She knows he doesn't mean it, but the sting is real for their son.

SPONGEBOB OVERLOAD 2/2 (By NEUROFABULOUS) Plankton's memory was a jumble of images and sounds, but he recaled the confrontation with Mr. Krabs, the spatula, and the pain. He sat up slowly, his head spinning. The pain was intense, but his mind was racing even faster. Plankton looked around the room, his eye trying to make sense of the scene. The Chum Bucket was a mess, his usual order thrown into chaos. Karen's face was a blur of concern, and Sponge Bob hovered close by, his expression filled with a mix of fear and pity. Plankton's mind raced, his thoughts scattered like sand in a storm. He felt a deep disconnect from the world around him, as if he was watching a play in which he was a reluctant participant. His head throbbed, but not just from the blow. It was the pressure of his own thoughts, his brain working overtime to process what had just occurred. Karen noticed the confusion in his expression and squeezed his hand reassuringly. "You had an accident, sweetie," she said softly. "It's okay. You're home now." Plankton's eye darted around the room, his mind struggling to understand the sudden shift in his reality. The noise was overwhelming, each sound a needle pricking his sensitive nerves. "Karen," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "What's happening?" Her gaze softened. "You got hurt, Plankton," she explained gently. "But the science fair," he mumbled, his thoughts jumbled. Karen's expression grew even more concerned. "The science fair can wait, Plankton," she soothed. But Plankton's mind was stuck in a loop, repeating her words. "The science fair can wait Plankton," he echoed, his voice frail and distant. Karen's eyes grew wet with worry. "Yes, dear," she said, stroking his arm. "Your wellbeing is more important." Plankton's eye narrowed as he repeated her words, his voice a mix of stubbornness and determination. "Wellbeing is important," he murmured, his thoughts racing. The words echoed in his head, a maddening loop. "The science fair can wait, Plankton," he whispered to himself, his voice taking on a rhythmic pattern. "Can wait, can wait..." Sponge Bob watched, his heart heavy with concern. He had never seen his friend like this, his usual confidence and scheming reduced to repetitive mumbles. "Plankton," he ventured cautiously, placing a spongy hand on his shoulder. Plankton's eye snapped to his, the loop breaking for a brief moment. "Sponge Bob," he murmured, his voice still weak. Sponge Bob's heart leaped with hope. "Yes, Plankton, I'm here," he said gently. But Plankton's gaze was distant, his thoughts clearly elsewhere. "Wellbeing is important," he murmured again, the words coming out in a staccato rhythm, his mind locked in the grip of echolalia. Karen's heart clenched with fear. This wasn't just disorientation from his injury. This was something more. "Sponge Bob," she whispered urgently. "I think he's in shock." Sponge Bob nodded, his face a mask of concern. "I'll get some water," he said, rushing to the sink. He filled a glass and hurried back, careful not to spill a drop. Plankton's eye followed the glass, his gaze unfocused. He began to rock back and forth slightly. Karen noticed the change in his behavior, her concern deepening. "Here, drink some water," she urged, offering the glass to his shaking hand. Plankton took it without a word, his motions mechanical. He brought the glass to his lips, but his hand trembled so badly that water sloshed out, spilling down. The moment the cool liquid hit the floor, a strange look passed over his face. It was as if he had seen a ghost, his single eye going wide with alarm. "The water," he stammered, his voice shaking. Karen's heart sank as she watched her husband's distress. "It's okay, Plankton," she soothed. "It's just water..." But Plankton's eye were glued to the spilled water, his entire body trembling. "It's... it's not right," he muttered, his voice filled with a childlike fear. Karen looked confused, the spilled water seemingly a minor issue. “Plank…” “It’s not right!” Plankton’s voice was urgent now, his trembling hand gesturing at the spill. His mind was a whirlwind of disturbing thoughts, each more distressing than the last. Sponge Bob and Karen exchanged worried glances. “What do you mean, Plankton?” Sponge Bob asked, kneeling beside the couch, his eyes full of concern. Plankton's breathing grew rapid, his chest heaving. "The... the... water," he stuttered, pointing at the puddle. "It's too... too... much!" Karen's gaze flitted to the floor, then back to her husband. "It's okay," she soothed, her voice quaking with fear. "It's just a little spill." But Plankton's agitation only grew. He flung the glass aside, the remaining water splattering against the wall. "No!" he shouted, his voice high and desperate. "Too much!" Karen and Sponge Bob watched in horror as Plankton collapsed into a sobbing mess, his tiny body wracked with tremors. His hands fluttered in his face, his breath coming in quick, sharp gasps. The room grew claustrophobic, the air thick with his panic. "It's okay," Karen whispered, her voice shaking. "It's just water, Plankton." But his anguished cries only grew louder. Sponge Bob's heart ached as he watched his friend fall apart before his eyes. Plankton's behavior was unlike anything he had ever seen, his usual cunning replaced with a raw, overwhelming fear. The room grew smaller as Plankton's sobs filled the space, his body convulsing with the intensity of his breakdown. Karen looked at Sponge Bob, her expression a mix of despair and determination. They both knew they had to calm him down, but how? Sponge Bob took a deep breath, trying to think. "Plankton," he said softly, his voice a gentle coax. "Look at me, buddy. It's just a spill. It's okay." Plankton's cries grew louder, his body shaking uncontrollably. Karen wrapped her arms around him, trying to soothe the storm raging inside his mind. "Shh, it's okay," she murmured, her voice barely audible over his cries. Sponge Bob's heart was in his throat as he watched his friend's breakdown. Plankton was not his usual self. The usually scheming, sneaky scientist was reduced to a quivering mess, his sobs echoing off the walls of the tiny Chum Bucket. His face was a mask of fear and confusion, his single eye wide with panic. "Plankton, please," Karen begged, her voice trembling. "You're scaring me." She scans his brain. The results were not what she expected. The blow from Mr. Krabs had caused more damage than she could have imagined. The injury had altered his brain chemistry in a way that was both profound and irreversible. Plankton had developed a rare condition called acquired autism, a disorder that could occur after a severe head trauma. It was a cruel twist of fate for a man whose life had been consumed by the desire for the Krabby Patty formula. The realization hit Karen like a tidal wave, knocking the wind out of her. Her eyes filled with tears as she whispered the diagnosis to Sponge Bob and Plankton. His expression mirrored her shock and sadness. Sponge Bob sat silent for a moment, his usually cheerful face contorted with sympathy and concern. "What do we do?" he asked finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “Can you clean the mess?” Karen asks him. He nodded solemnly, his movements slow and deliberate as he stood up to mop the spilled water. As he worked, he couldn't help but feel a deep sorrow for his friend. Plankton had always been the troublemaker, the one who pushed boundaries. But now, his world was shattered. The silence in the room was only broken by Plankton's sobs and the swish of the mop. Sponge Bob's heart felt heavy as he cleaned up the water, his thoughts racing. He couldn't believe what he had just heard. His best friend, his rival, his... his family. Plankton had always been there, through thick and thin, and now he was... different. And yet, that’s ok.

SPONGEBOB OVERLOAD 1/2 (By NEUROFABULOUS) The morning light peeked through the blinds, painting stripes on the bedroom floor. Karen stirred in her sleep, sitting up. Her husband, Plankton, slept peacefully beside her, his arms wrapped around a pillow. Karen looked over at him, his face calm and serene. The digital alarm clock read 7:00 AM. She carefully slid out of bed, trying not to disturb his slumber. "Karen," he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. She paused, half in and half out of the bed. Did he wake? But Plankton's snores grew softly, his breathing even. She sighed with relief. Their son Chip, a lanky teenager, was already up. Karen could hear his footsteps thundering down the hallway, his energy palpable even through the closed bedroom door. He burst into the room, a tornado of teenage angst and excitement. "Mom! Dad!" he shouted. "It's the day!" Karen winced at his volume. Plankton stirred, his eye slitting open. "What is it?" he asked, his voice groggy. "The science fair!" Chip exclaimed, his screen flushed with excitement. Plankton's eye shot open and he sat up instantly, his mind racing. The patty heist. Today was the day he had been meticulously planning for weeks. He had overheard Mr. Krabs, his rival at the Krabby Patty, bragging about their restaurant's dominance over the competition. Plankton had to have it. "Chip, buddy," he said, his voice a mix of sleep and urgency. "I will try to make it, but can’t guarantee it. But Karen, I mean ‘Mom’ can.." Karen's eyes widened, but she nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. Her husband’s obsession with Krabby Patties had taken over again. "I'll be there for you, buddy," she assured Chip, trying to mask her own disappointment. Plankton threw the covers off, swinging his tiny legs over the side of the bed. His eye was sharp with focus, his mind already racing with the complexities of his heist. "I'll make it quick," he told Karen, kissing her screen. Plankton tiptoed, his heart pounding. The office door was closed, but unlocked. He eased it open, his eye darting around the room, searching for any signs of movement. Mr. Krabs and SpongeBob were deep in conversation, their backs to the door. Plankton took a deep breath and slipped in, his tiny frame barely making a sound. "Halt!" Mr. Krabs spun around, his beady eyes locking onto Plankton. His face grew red with anger. "What do ye think yer doing here?" Plankton froze, his heart thumping in his chest. "I... I... was just looking for a... a... " He searched for a plausible lie, but his mind was a whirlwind of panic. Mr. Krabs' glower deepened. "Don't lie to me, ye tiny scoundrel! I know what yer after, and ye'll not get it!" Mr. Krabs lunged forward, brandishing a heavy spatula. Plankton squeaked in alarm, trying to dodge the blow. But his reflexes weren't quick enough. The metal spatula connected with his head with a sickening crack, sending him crashing to the floor. The room spun around Plankton as darkness closed in. The last thing he heard was SpongeBob's startled, "Mr. Krabs!" before the world went silent. Mr. Krabs looked down at Plankton's crumpled form, his expression a stormy mix of anger and triumph. He turned to his trusty fry cook. "SpongeBob," he barked. "Take this...this... tiny troublemaker out of me office.." Sponge Bob looked at Mr. Krabs, then at Plankton, his face a mask of confusion and concern. He gently scooped Plankton up with one spongy arm, his eyes filled with concern for the unconscious villain. The weight of the situation hit him, and his steps were heavy as he carried his friend out of the office. He could feel the tension in the room as Mr. Krabs watched them go, his glower never leaving Plankton's form. Sponge Bob's mind raced with questions and worry. He had known Plankton for a long time, despite their rivalry over the Krabby Patty formula. They had shared laughs and schemes in the past, but this... He couldn't believe his boss would stoop so low as to attempt to hurt Plankton. As he stepped into the hallway, Sponge Bob quickly scanned for any prying eyes. The corridor was empty, the usual bustle of the Krabby Patty silenced by the early morning hour. Carefully, he navigated through the kitchen, trying not to jostle him. "What have you done?" Sponge Bob whispered to the unconscious Plankton, his voice tight with concern. He couldn't help but feel a pang of anger at his friend's usual foolishness, but his primary thought was to get him to safety. He carefully maneuvered Plankton's limp body past the kitchen appliances. The sizzle of the frying oil and the faint scent of sea salt filled the air, but Sponge Bob's thoughts were elsewhere. With a heavy heart, he carried Plankton's limp form down the narrow alley between the Krabby Patty and the Chum Bucket. The morning was still cool, the sun not yet high enough to warm the concrete. The journey was quick, but it felt like an eternity to Sponge Bob. Each step was precise, each breath measured. He didn't want to cause his friend any more harm. He reached the Chum Bucket, the neon lights flickering weakly in the early morning. With a quick glance around to ensure no one was watching, he slipped inside, the smell of stale chum and machinery assaulting his nostrils. "Karen!" he called out softly, his voice echoing in the small space. "Karen, it's Sponge Bob; I need your help!" Karen rushed to the front of the Chum Bucket, her eyes widening at the sight of her husband's lifeless body. "What happened?" she asked, her voice trembling. Sponge Bob gently laid Plankton down on their couch, his eyes filled with remorse. "He... he tried to steal the Krabby Patty formula again," he stammered. "Mr. Krabs... he hit him." Karen's screen paled as she took in the sight of her injured husband. She quickly moved to his side, feeling for a pulse. It was there, still present. "Oh, Plankton," she whispered, her voice shaking with emotion. Sponge Bob watched, his eyes brimming with apology. "I didn't know what to do," he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "Mr. Krabs... he just lost it." Karen's eyes were cold and hard. "Thank you for bringing him home, Sponge Bob," she said, her words clipped. “It’s not your fault..” Her voice trailed off as she turned her attention to Plankton. She gently shook his shoulder. "Wake up, Plankton," she whispered. He didn't move. Her eyes searched his face, looking for any sign of consciousness. "Wake up," she said, a bit louder this time, her voice laced with desperation. The silence was deafening. The room felt like it was closing in on them, the air thick with the scent of concern and fear. Karen's voice grew desperate. "Plankton, wake up!" she shouted, patting his cheek gently. There was no response. Panic began to creep into her voice. "Come on, you can do it," she urged, shaking him slightly. "You've got to wake up." Plankton's body remained motionless, his single eye closed tight. Sponge Bob felt the panic swell inside him like a wave crashing against the shore. His heart raced as he watched Karen's desperate efforts to revive her husband. "Maybe we should call a doctor," he suggested, his voice quivering. Karen's eyes snapped to his, a mix of fear and determination. "No," she decided firmly. "We can't involve anyone else. Not yet." The two of them stood silently for a moment, the only sound the ticking of a clock hanging on the wall. They waited, every second seemingly stretching into an eternity. Each tick was a silent plea for Plankton to regain consciousness. Karen's hand hovered over her husband's forehead, feeling for any sign of life. Sponge Bob looked on, his usually cheerful expression now etched with worry. They waited, each second stretching into an eternity, as the morning sun began to creep into the Chum Bucket, casting a pale light over the disheveled scene. The only sounds were the soft whir of the refrigerator and the distant calls of seagulls. Then, a twitch from one of his antennas. It was so slight that Sponge Bob almost missed it. But Karen's gaze was trained on Plankton, and she noticed immediately. Her eyes lit up with hope. "Plankton?" she whispered, her hand moving to his cheek, her voice barely audible. There was another twitch, this time in his brow. Karen's heart leaped in her chest. "Sponge Bob, I think he's coming to." Sponge Bob leaned in closer, his eyes fixed on Plankton's face. "Plankton," he whispered, his voice full of hope. "Can you hear us?" Plankton's eye cracked open, battling against the brightness of the morning. His vision was blurry, and the world spun around him. He moaned softly, his head throbbing with pain. "What happened?" he managed to croak, his voice hoarse and weak. Karen's eyes filled with relief. "You're awake!" she exclaimed, squeezing his hand. "You got hurt at the Krabby Patty."

PATRICK PLANKTON 2/4 (NEURODIVERGENT AUTHOR) Yet Plankton was beyond listening. He was in the throes of a full-blown meltdown, his body quaking with anger and fear. His usually tiny form looked monstrous in the dim light of the lab, his eye wild and his antennae twitching erratically. Plankton's shaking grew more intense, his tiny body trembling. His eye darted around the room, looking everywhere except at the starfish who had just tried to offer him comfort. Karen's heart ached as she watched her husband's silent panic attack unfold. She knew the signs all too well. The erratic antennae movements, the clenched fists, the sudden need for personal space - it was all part of his condition. Plankton had always been so private about it, but she had hoped that with time and trust, he'd learn to open up. Patrick, however, remained oblivious to the gravity of the situation. He had never seen his friend this way, and the fear in Plankton's usually beady eye was more than he could bear. "What's happening to him?" he whispered to Karen, his voice shaking. Karen took a deep breath, her eyes never leaving Plankton's trembling form. "It's his condition," she said softly. "He gets like this when he's really overwhelmed. He needs us to be calm for him." Patrick looked from Karen to Plankton. He didn't know what to do, but he knew that he couldn't just stand there. Carefully, he reached out a tentacle and wrapped it around Plankton, pulling him into a gentle embrace. "It's okay, buddy," he murmured. "You don't have to be scared." But Plankton's panic only seemed to worsen. His tremors grew more pronounced, his tiny body convulsing in Patrick's arms. Karen's eyes grew wide with alarm, and she rushed over to her husband's side. "Patrick, let go!" she urged, her voice firm but filled with urgency. "You're making it worse!" Patrick's eyes grew wide, and he released Plankton as if he'd been holding a live wire. The tiny plankton crumpled to the floor, his body going limp. "Plankton?" Karen gasped, dropping to her knees beside him. She checked his antennae for a pulse, her face a mask of panic. "Plankton, can you hear me?" There was no response. His single eye had rolled back into his head, and his antennae had gone still. Panic gripped Karen and Patrick. "What's happening?" Patrick's voice was barely a whisper. Karen's filled with a mix of fear and determination as she checked Plankton's pulse again. "It's a severe episode," she said, her voice tight with concern. "He needs to calm down, and fast." Patrick hovered over them, his heart racing in his chest. "What..." "He's passed out," Karen said, her voice tight with worry. "We need to get him to his bed." Patrick's eyes grew rounder, and he nodded frantically. "Okay okay," he murmured, reaching down to help Karen lift Plankton's unconscious body. Together, they carefully carried him to the bed. Karen laid Plankton on the bed and began to check his vitals, scanning his tiny form with a medical precision that belied her usual robotic demeanor. "His pulse is steady." Patrick hovered at the edge of the room, his heart racing. "What can I do?" he asked, his voice quivering. "Just stay here," Karen instructed, her focus solely on Plankton. "And keep talking to him. Sometimes hearing a familiar voice helps." Patrick nodded, his tentacles clutching at the edge of the bed. "Plankton?" he called out softly, his voice filled with a mix of fear and concern. "Buddy, can you hear me?" There was no response. Plankton's tiny body remained still and lifeless, his antennae drooping like wet noodles. Patrick felt his own body go cold with fear. He'd never seen anyone faint before, let alone a friend. He didn't know what to do, so he just talked hoping his voice could reach Plankton through the fog of unconsciousness. "Hey, Plankton," he said softly, "Just rest up, buddy." Karen looked up from her ministrations, her expression grim. "Patrick," she began, voice low and serious, "you need to know something about Plankton." Patrick leaned in, his worry for his friend clear on his face. "What is it?" he whispered. "It's his brain," Karen said, her voice tight. "Plankton has a traumatic injury." She paused, her gaze never leaving Plankton's still form. "It's from an accident a long time ago, before I was even built.." Patrick's eyes grew wide with shock. "What kind of accident?" Karen took a deep breath, her eyes never leaving Plankton. "It was a... a car accident," she said finally, her voice thick with unshed emotion. "A runaway boat hit him, actually." Patrick's tentacles drooped in horror. "Oh no!" he gasped. "Is that why he gets like this?" "Yes," Karen nodded solemnly. "The injury causes him to have these episodes when he gets too stressed or overwhelmed. It's why he's so obsessed with the Krabby Patty formula. The pursuit of something so constant and unchanging helps him cope with the chaos in his head." Patrick's eyes widened. "But why didn't he tell me?" he murmured. "Because he's ashamed," Karen said softly. "He thinks it makes him weak. But it's just a part of who he is." Patrick looked at her, his eyes filled with sadness. "But he's not weak," he said firmly. "He's the smartest person I know." "Patrick," Karen said, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, "his mind is brilliant, yes. But he's also fragile, in ways you can't even imagine." Patrick nodded, his eyes never leaving Plankton's pale face. "I won't tell anyone," he promised, his voice barely above a whisper. Suddenly, Plankton's antennae twitched. A soft groan escaped his mouth and his eye fluttered open. He looked around the room, blinking in confusion. "Plankton?" Karen's voice was a whisper, filled with hope. The tiny plankton's antennae twitched slightly, and his eye blinked open focusing with difficulty on the concerned faces hovering over him. The room was spinning, a kaleidoscope of colors and shapes that made him nauseous. He groaned and tried to sit up, but his body felt like it was made of jelly. "Take it easy," Karen soothed, gently pushing him back down. "You've had a rough time." Plankton's eye focused on Patrick, who was still standing by the bedside looking as though he'd just seen a ghost. "What's he doing here?" he croaked. "You fainted," Karen said gently. "Patrick was just trying to help." Plankton's eye darted around the room, trying to piece together the puzzle of what had happened. The last thing he remembered was reading, then Patrick yelling, then Patrick's overwhelming embrace... A chilling sensation washed over him, a sense of déjà vu so strong it was almost tangible. He looked at Patrick, who was hovering over him like a giant, concerned balloon, and suddenly it clicked. "I remember now," Plankton murmured, his voice still shaky. "You tried to... hug me." He cringed at the thought, his antennae curling inward. "Don't ever do that again.." Patrick looked down at his tentacles, which had instinctively reached out during Plankton's episode. He pulled back. "Sorry, buddy," he mumbled. "I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable." Karen's gaze softened. "It's okay, Patrick. You couldn't have known." She turned her attention back to Plankton searching his for any signs of further distress. "How are you feeling, Plankton?" He swallowed hard, his throat dry. "T-terrible," he rasped. "But I'll be fine." His voice was laced with the stubbornness that Patrick had come to expect from him. Plankton pushed himself into a sitting position, his antennae still trembling slightly. Karen's gaze remained on him. "You sure?" she asked, voice a gentle murmur. Plankton nodded, his antennae quivering slightly as he tried to stand. His legs wobbled beneath him, and he had to grab the bedframe to steady himself. "Just... need a moment," he murmured, his voice shaking as much as his body. Patrick watched with a heavy heart as his friend struggled to regain his composure. He knew that Plankton was trying to put on a brave face, but the fear in his eye was unmistakable.

OH NOT THE WISDOM TEETH pt. 1 “Ok we got the topical numbing agent rubbed in, so you won’t feel the IV to much,” Plankton’s dentist says. Karen, Plankton’s wife, sat right by the operation chair. Plankton’s getting his wisdom teeth pulled out under anesthesia, hence the IV. They put the IV in his numbed arm. “Now Mr. Plankton, can you count for me?” Plankton nods, “One, two, three...” His eye starts to glaze over. He slurs a bit at the four. “Five... six... sev... sev... sev...” His voice trails off into a gentle snore as the anesthesia takes effect. Karen, with a sigh of relief, watches his body relax into the chair. The surgery room's lights shine down brightly on Plankton's open mouth, his teeth now a battleground. The dentist, with a steady hand, picks up the forceps and begins his work. The chair squeaks slightly as the team of oral surgeons move around. Karen's eyes are glued to the monitor, where an inside view of the procedure plays out. The sound of bone crunching fills the silent room, making her cringe, but she forces herself to watch. The dentist, with a concentrated expression, works with precision. Sweat beads form on his brow as he maneuvers around the stubborn tooth. His assistant, a young fish named Bubbles, hands him tools with quick, efficient movements. They work in silent harmony, their eyes never leaving the monitor or Plankton’s mouth. On the screen, Karen can see the tooth’s root, snaking deep into Plankton’s jaw. The tension in the room is almost palpable, the only sounds the steady beep of the heart monitor and the occasional slurp of saline. The dentist’s face remains calm and focused, his grip on the forceps firm. He leans in closer, his eyes squinted as he tries to see better. Karen’s heart skips a beat as the instrument clamps down on the tooth. She can almost feel the resistance it gives, and holds her breath. With a quick, decisive movement, the dentist yanks the tooth free. A moment of stillness follows, the only sound the quiet thud as the tooth hits the tray. Then, a trickle of blood. Plankton’s chest rises and falls evenly, his snores the only proof he’s alive. Karen reaches over to squeeze his hand. The second tooth proves more stubborn. The dentist wiggles the forceps back and forth, the sound of bone grinding echoing. Bubbles darts in with a suction tube, clearing the way for the doctor to work. The tension builds as they wrestle with the tooth. “Almost got it...” the dentist murmurs, his voice tight with concentration. The monitor shows the root slightly loosening, and Karen’s grip on Plankton’s hand tightens. The room seems to shrink around them, the air thick with the scent of antiseptic and the faint metallic tang of blood. With a final, forceful tug, the second tooth gives way. The room exhales collectively as it’s removed. Bubbles quickly steps in to apply pressure to the wound, stemming the flow of blood. The monitor shows the tooth, now free from its bony prison, lying on the tray beside the first one. Karen feels a weight lift off her chest. Plankton’s snores remain steady, oblivious to the victory just won as they inject numbing anesthetic agents into his gums. The third tooth is a quick extraction, and the fourth is a slow, careful dance. The monitor shows every detail in stark clarity: the blood, the bone, the delicate dance of the instruments. Plankton’s snores remain consistent, a comforting reminder that he’s okay, that he feels no pain. The team works in silent harmony, each movement choreographed to perfection. Bubbles disposes of the wisdom teeth as the dentist uses dissolvable stitches to sew the gums shut. Karen’s eyes never stray from the monitor, watching as the gaping sockets are cleaned and packed with gauze. The whole process seems to move in slow motion, each second stretching into eternity. The last stitch is placed, and the dentist gives a reassuring smile. “All done, Mrs. Plankton. Everything went perfectly. Your husband will be out cold for a few more minutes, but he’ll be okay. We’ll take him and you into the recovery room now so he can wake up.” The chair reclines slowly, and Plankton’s body is carefully moved to a gurney. Karen follows closely behind, still holding his hand, her eyes never leaving his peaceful face. The wheels squeak as the gurney rolls down the hall to the recovery room, a softly lit space that feels like a contrast to the harshness of the surgery. The nurses are gentle as they transfer him to the recovery bed, her mind racing with every jostle. The machines beep in a comforting rhythm, and Plankton’s chest rises and falls steadily. She watches his closed eye, yet his sleep remains deep. The nurse checks the monitors and nods, her scales glistening under the soft lights. “He’s doing well, Mrs. Plankton. We’ll keep an eye on him here for a bit longer. The drugs may take some time to wear off completely.”

OH NOT THE WISDOM TEETH pt. 2 Karen sits by the bed, her gaze fixed on Plankton’s face as drool pools at the corner of his mouth. The nurse comes in, checks the machines, and leaves with a nod. Plankton stirs slightly, but the snores continue. Karen's thoughts drift to their life together, the adventures they’ve shared. The quiet moments of laughter, the fiery fights over the Krabby Patty formula, the tender kisses exchanged at nightfall. Her heart swells with love and concern. She brushes his antennae with a gentle touch. The drool on Plankton’s mouth forms a tiny river, wetting the pillow. Karen fights the urge to laugh, knowing he’d be embarrassed if he were awake. She reaches over to his gauze and dabs it away, careful not to disturb. A nurse, a motherly looking octopus named Octavia, enters the room with a kind smile. “You know, Mrs. Plankton, sometimes patients can get a bit loopy when they first wake up from anesthesia. It’s perfectly normal. You might want to be prepared for some funny things he might say or do.” She chuckles to herself, remembering past incidents with other patients. Karen looks up. “Like what?” she asks. Octavia smiles, her tentacles curling around the clipboard she holds. “Well, they might say something that doesn’t quite make sense, or think they’re somewhere else entirely. Some get a bit feisty, too. It’s all just the anesthesia wearing off. Nothing to worry about, really.” She winks one of her large eyes, her expression comforting. “His mouth will be numb, so he might talk a bit funny. And sometimes, they think they’re still dreaming, so they do or say the darndest things. Just try to keep him calm, and it’ll all be over soon enough. Remember, it’s temporary, and he’ll be back to his usual self before you know it!” Karen nods, trying to absorb the information while keeping her eyes on Plankton. His snores have changed pitch, and she can't help but wonder if he's about to wake up. The minutes drag on, feeling like hours, as she waits for any sign of him stirring. Finally, with a soft moan, Plankton's eye begins to flutter open, unfocused, glazed over, and it's clear he's still not fully awake, and Karen smiles, ready for the loopy phase the nurse warned her about. "Karen," he slurs, his voice muffled by the cotton gauze stuffed in his mouth. "Wheh... wheh a?" Karen's smile broadens. "You're ok, Plankton. It's over. You're in the recovery room," she whispers. He tries to sit up, but the nurse gently pushes him back down. "Easy, easy. Take it slow, Mr. Plankton. You're still..." Her voice trails off as Plankton's eye focus on the ceiling, and his mouth moves as if he's trying to speak. Karen leans closer, her heart racing. "What is it, sweetie?" His words come out slurred, the anesthesia still thick in his voice. "Whe... whe... whewe... my... my mouf?" Karen chuckles softly, relief bubbling up. "Your mouth is numb, Plank..." But her words are cut short as Plankton's eye widens. "My... my tee... tee... tweef!" He mumbles. The nurse, Octavia, steps forward with a calm demeanor. "It's okay, Mr. Plankton. Your teeth are safe. We removed the wisdom teeth. You won't feel much pain for now because of the numbing agent and anesthesia." Plankton's eye darts around the room. "My tee... tweef... I wont feel... I ca..." Karen's uncertain of what he's trying to say. She repeats the nurse's words, her voice soothing. "You won't feel much pain. It's okay." Plankton's hand shoots up, flailing slightly as he tries to touch his mouth. Karen catches it gently, holding it down. "You don't have to worry about your teeth right now." They remove the IV from Plankton’s arm, and he sees the dentist. “Huh..” “You did great, buddy,” says the dentist. Plankton’s eye is still blurry, his thoughts scattered. “Teethies?” he repeats, his voice still slurred. The nurse nods, patting his hand. “Yes, we took out the teethies. You’re all fixed up now.” Plankton’s eye relaxes a bit, but confusion swims through the fog of his thoughts. “Tee... tw... thee?” Karen nods. “They got all four of them. You’ll be ok now.” The nurse, seeing his confusion, explains further. “The anesthesia makes it so you don’t remember the surgery. But I promise, we took great care of you. Your teeth are out, and you’re safe here in recovery.” Plankton’s eye droops slightly, and his head lolls to the side as he slips back into sleep, his snores resuming their steady rhythm. Octavia smiles. “This is completely normal, Mrs. Plankton. The anesthesia can take a while to wear off. Just keep talking to him, soothingly, so he knows you’re here when he wakes up. Let’s wake him up and get him to your car.”

NOTHING BUT THE WISDOM TRUTH i "Why do we have to go so early?" he grumbled. "I know, sweetie," Karen said, patting his hand reassuringly. "But it's for the best. You'll be out like a light during the surgery, and you won't feel a thing." The nurse noticed his distress and offered a kind smile. "Don't worry, Mr. Plankton. We're going to make this as comfortable for you as possible. First things first, let's get you in and then we'll start with some anesthesia." Karen watched as Plankton reluctantly climbed into the chair. The nurse dimmed the lights and adjusted the chair's recline. She placed a warm blanket over him, and the softness enveloped him like a comforting embrace, the nurse preparing Plankton for the surgery. She chatted away, "So, any plans for the weekend?" "Not really," he said, "Just recovery." The nurse nodded. She began to insert the IV, talked him through each step, her voice a comforting lullaby guiding him into a state of relaxation. She continued to engage in light conversation, told about her weekend plans, a lifeline to the outside world that seemed so far away in the cold, clinical environment. As the anesthesia began to work, Plankton felt his body grow heavier, his eyelid drooping. "You're doing great," she said softly. "Just keep breathing, ok?" Plankton's thoughts began to blur together. The doctor's voice grew distant, his words melding into a comforting murmur as Plankton felt himself slipping away. The last thing he heard was Karen's voice, a gentle whisper in his ear. "I'm here," she said, her hand holding onto his with a fierce tenderness. "I love you." And then there was nothing, the last sensation he felt before everything went quiet. The anesthetist monitored Plankton's vitals, ensuring he remained safely asleep throughout the procedure. Plankton was a picture of peace, mouth agape as the anesthesia kept him blissfully unaware of the world around him. The nurse's eyes flick from the monitors to Plankton's serene face. Plankton's body didn't even flinch. Plankton's face remained relaxed, his breathing even, as the anesthetic kept him in a state of blissful unconsciousness, ensuring that his comfort remained top priority. Plankton's body remained still, his chest rising and falling in a rhythmic cadence that soothed the room. The nurse gently swabbed his mouth, keeping the area clean and clear. The doctor stitched up the small incisions with a gentle touch, while the nurse cleaned Plankton's mouth. The anesthetist monitored the levels, ensuring a smooth and safe emergence from the depths of unconsciousness. The doctor looked at Karen, his eyes weary but his smile reassuring. "It's all done," he said. "Everything went smoothly. He's still sleeping it off, but you can go in and see him." Karen rushed in, her screen searching for Plankton. He was there, lying back in the chair, his mouth slightly open, a line of drool escaping the corner of his mouth. He looked so peaceful, vulnerable. She reached out and touched his hand, for the surgery was over. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm as he slept. "He's doing great," she assured her. "The surgery went well." Karen leaned over Plankton, as she brushed his antennae with her hand. She took in the sight of him, the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the soft snorish sounds escaping his mouth. His face was a portrait of peace, a stark contrast to the chaos of the surgery that had just taken place. The nurse finished her work and dimmed the lights, leaving the room in a soft glow that cast shadows across the floor. Karen pulled up a chair and sat down, her hand finding Plankton's again. "You're ok," she murmured, willing him to hear her voice, to feel her presence. "You're going to be ok." Karen's entire world was contained in reassuring her that he was still there. The nurse approached with a wad of gauze. "We need to put this in his mouth to help with bleeding," she explained gently. Karen nodded. The nurse placed the gauze with the same care she had shown throughout the entire ordeal, pressing it gently against the raw, tender spots where Plankton's teeth had once been. The nurse finished her cleanup and checked Plankton's vitals one last time. "He'll come around soon," she assured. "The anesthesia takes a bit to wear off." His breathing was still deep and steady, the gentle rumble of his snores filling the room. She found comfort in the mundane sounds of his slumber. His chest rose and fell in a rhythm that seemed to match the beeping of the heart monitor. The anesthesia had done its job well, leaving him in a deep, dreamless sleep. His face was serene. His antennae lay limp on the chair's headrest, and his mouth was open slightly, revealing the gauze the nurse had placed to stem the bleeding. The drool that had pooled at the corners of his mouth began to seep out onto the chair. The nurse noticed and nodded, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "It's normal," she said. Plankton's snores grew louder, the drool now a small river that trickled down. Karen reached out with a trembling hand, her thumb catching the droplets before they could stain the fabric. The drool was a stark reminder of the reality of the situation. Her screen focused on the slow, steady flow of dribble, forming and breaking away, each one a little more substantial than the last. The nurse had said it was normal, but to Karen, it was a sign of his vulnerability, a tangible proof of the surgery's aftermath. As the drool grew into a small puddle on the chair, Karen's resolve to be strong for him grew stronger. She grabbed a tissue from the box on the side table and gently wiped. The nurse looked at her with understanding. "It's alright," she said softly. "He'll wake un his own time." Karen nodded, her screen never leaving Plankton's face. She felt a strange mix of love and pity. Here he was, reduced to a drooling mess in a chair, and yet she had never felt more connected to him. It was a strange intimacy, this moment of vulnerability, a silent pact between them that she would always be there to wipe away his fears, both literal and figurative. The nurse moved around the room, her movements efficient and silent. She checked the machines one last time before turning to Karen. "Why don't you sit down?" she suggested, patting the chair beside Plankton's. "It'll be a bit before he wakes up. Might as well get comfortable." Karen nodded, taking a deep breath to calm her nerves. She pulled up a chair and held his hand tightly, her thumb brushing back and forth across his knuckles. "Plankton," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. "You did it, sweetie." She leaned closer. "The teeth are out. You're okay." She waited, watching the rise and fall of his chest, listening to the steady beep of the heart monitor, and willing him to open his eye. "Remember what I said about ice cream?" she asked, her voice a little louder this time. "You can have as much as you want when we get home." She tried to keep her tone light, despite the gravity of the situation. The thought of his favorite mint chocolate chip ice cream was supposed to make him smile, but his face remained slack. But she knew he was strong, and he would bounce back. He always did. "I just want you to know how much I love you. How much I need you. We've been through so much together, and I can't imagine my life without you. You're going to wake up soon, and it'll all be over. And then we can go home, and I'll take care of you, just like you always take care of me. Remember when we said 'in sickness and in health'?" she whispered. "Well, this is definitely a 'sickness' moment, but I'm right here. And I'll be here through all the healthy moments too." The nurse quietly left them a moment of privacy. Karen leaned in closer. "You're going to feel a bit funny when you wake up," she said with a soft laugh. "Your mouth will be sore, and your face will be puffy. But I'll be there. And maybe I'll let you win at Scrabble for once." She chuckles. "Just don't let it go to your head." Plankton's eyelid fluttered, and a low moan escaped his throat. She squeezed his hand. "That's it, baby," she encouraged. "You're waking up." His eye opened slowly dilated and unfocused. He blinked a few times, trying to adjust to the harsh lights of the recovery room. He turned his head to the side, and she knew he was searching for her. "Hi," she said, her voice a warm whisper. "It's me, Karen. You're ok." His gaze found hers, and she saw the flicker of recognition. "Where am I?" he slurred, his voice thick and groggy. "You're in the recovery room, sweetheart," Karen said, her voice steady and soothing. "You just had your wisdom teeth out." Plankton's eye widened slightly, and he nodded, trying to sit up. Karen gently pushed him back down. "Easy," she said. "You need to rest." "But I'm so tired," he mumbled, his voice weak. "I know," Karen said, stroking his forehead with her cool hand. "But you're doing great. Just stay still for a little while longer. They got all four teeth out without any complications." He nodded, his eye still closed. "Good," he mumbled.

DO YOU TRUST ME pt. 7 𝖠𝗎𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗋'𝗌 𝖣𝗂𝗌𝖼𝗅𝖺𝗂𝗆𝖾𝗋 𝖭𝗈𝗍𝖾 𝘐 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘵. 𝘐'𝘮 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘚𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘮 𝘮𝘺𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧. 𝘐 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘤 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘭𝘶𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘐'𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘥𝘥 𝘮𝘺 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴. 𝘚𝘰 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦, 𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘴𝘮 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘴 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺. 𝘞𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘩, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘷𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴. 𝘐 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘪𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘨𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶. ( emojicombos.com/neurofabulous ) "Daddy, I'm sorry," Chip whimpers, his eyes wide with fear. He's never felt so lost, so small. Plankton's breaths come in quick, sharp bursts, his body a tangle of frustration and pain. Plankton's antennae thrash in the air, his eye wild and unpredictable. "You don't know what you're talking about!" he yells, his voice bouncing off the walls of the room. He turns away from his son, his body language screaming 'don't touch'. Chip's eyes are pools of pain, his hand hovering awkwardly. "But Daddy," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "Just t---" "Don't you dare!" Plankton's antennae whip around wildly, his eye flashing with a mixture of anger and fear. Chip yanked his hand away but doing so, he accidentally brushes against Plankton's arm in the process. The explosion of emotion is instant. Plankton recoils, his body jerking away as if burned. He sweeps his arm across the nightstand, sending books flying. Karen knew she needs to intervene. "Chip, go to your room," she says firmly, her voice cutting through the storm of emotions. Chip's eyes are wide with shock, his body trembling as he backs away from the bed, tears streaming down his face. "But Mom," he protests, his voice choked with emotion. "I didn't me—" "I know, Chip," Karen says, her tone brooking no argument. Plankton's antennae are a blur of movement, his breathing erratic. "Your dad needs space." Chip nods and makes his way to his room, his legs wobbly. As he closes the door, Karen sighs, her eyes sad as she turns back to Plankton. Karen knew to tread carefully. Plankton is panting, his antennae twitching rapidly. He's upset, more than she's seen in a long time. "Plankton," she says softly, approaching the bed. "Hey, I'm here." His antennae quiver, and she knows she's treading on thin ice when he kicks the blanket off his bed with a snarl. Karen's heart breaks seeing the pain in his eye. He sweeps his arm across the dresser, sending a cascade of items crashing to the floor. The room echoes with his rage, each crash a declaration of his frustration. Karen swallows the lump in her throat, knowing she has to be the calm in this storm. Plankton's breaths come in quick, sharp bursts, his antennae still quivering. He turns away from her, his back to the wall, his body tight with tension. Karen approaches slowly, her eyes on his, watching for any sign of his mood shifting. "Let it out," she whispers, her hands outstretched but not touching. "You're safe here." Plankton's body convulses with anger, and he throws another object across the room. It hits the wall with a thud, leaving a small crack. His antennae quiver with each ragged breath he takes. Karen knows they're on the edge. With trembling hands, she picks up his pillow from the floor, carefully moving closer. "You don't have to keep it in," she says softly, extending the pillow towards him. "You can hit this." Her voice is a soothing balm to the chaos. Plankton's antennae stop their frantic dance for a moment, his eye flickering with something akin to hope. He takes the pillow, his fists tightening around it. With a roar, he brings the pillow down onto the bed, his strength surprising even Karen. The sound is muffled, but the fury in the gesture is clear. He hits it again, and again, each blow a silent scream of pain and anger. Karen watches, her heart breaking with each hit, her eyes never leaving his. She knows this is his fear and frustration manifesting in the only way his overwhelmed mind knows how. "Let it out, Plankton," she whispers, moving closer, her voice steady. "You're safe here." Plankton's body shakes as he slams the pillow into the mattress, his antennae quivering with each impact. Karen remains still. She knows this storm of emotion isn't directed at her, but at the invisible barriers that have caged him in for so long. He throws the pillow again, his face contorted with rage. The cotton explodes into a cloud of feathers, but it's not enough. He needs more. He turns, his antennae a blur of emotion, and sees the closet door. With a snarl, he charges towards it, throwing it open. The sound of hangers clattering fills the air as he starts to rip clothes from their hangers, tossing them around the room like confetti in a tornado. Karen watches, her eyes filled with a mix of sadness and fear. This is the what his condition turns him into when the pressure gets too much. Her heart aches for him, trapped in his own mind. She knows she has to be careful; any wrong move could set him off. Plankton's eye darts around the room, searching for something else to unleash his fury upon. His antennae quiver, his body still shaky. Karen moves closer, slowly, her hand reaching out. He turns to her, the anger in his gaze unmistakable. But as he sees her hand, his expression falters. Karen takes a deep breath, her voice steady. "It's okay," she says.

NOTHING BUT THE WISDOM TRUTH ii "You're in the recovery room, sweetheart," Karen said, her voice steady and soothing. "You just had wisdom teeth out." Plankton's eye widened slightly, and he nodded, trying to sit up. Karen gently pushed him back down. "Easy," she said. "You need to rest." "But I'm so tired," he mumbled, his voice weak. "I know," Karen said, stroking his forehead with her hand. "But you're doing great. Just stay still for a little while longer. They got all four teeth out without any complications." He nodded, his eye still closed. "Good," he mumbled. "I don't... I don't member any ting." His words were slurred. The anesthesia was definitely still working its magic on him. "It's ok," she said, her voice soothing. "You don't need to.." Plankton's head lolled to the side, and his eyelid grew heavy again. "Karen?" he murmured, his voice thick with sleep. "I'm right here," she assured him, her voice steady and calm. She watched as he tried to lift his hand to wipe at his mouth, but it flopped back down onto the chair's armrest, his fingers brushing against hers. Plankton's eye grew heavy again, and his head lolled to the side. The anesthesia was working its way out of his system, but it was taking its time. She chuckled as she watched him struggle to keep his eye open. "I'm... I'm," Plankton mumbled, his words coming out slurred and sloppy. His eye rolled back in his head, and he let out a snore. "You're a mess," she laughs, her voice filled with love. "But you're my mess." She watched as his chest rose and fell with each snore. It was clear that the anesthesia was still holding him in its grasp, and she knew it would be a while before he was fully awake. Karen couldn't help but laugh at his antics. Plankton's snores grew louder. Karen reached out and gently wiped the line of drool from his mouth with a tissue. He stirred, his eye blinking open again. "You're drooling," she whispered, smiling at him. "What's happening?" he asked, his words slurred. "You're coming out of the anesthesia," Karen said, her voice a lifeline in the haze. "Everything went fine." Plankton's eye searched hers, his thoughts racing. "Mmmy...nesia?" he mumbled. Karen's smile grew, understanding his attempt to ask about his sleep during surgery. "You mean the anesthesia?" Karen couldn't help but chuckle at his endeavor. "You're just a little out of it," she said, her voice gentle. "The anesthesia is wearing off." "Thish...thish ish...shomefinny," Plankton tried to say. "What?" Karen asked, her curiosity piqued by his attempt at speech. "Nothin'." Plankton's words were slurred into a single syllable. He looked utterly lost in the haze. Karen leaned closer. "You sure?" Plankton nodded, his smile lopsided. "Jush...jush glad." Karen couldn't help but laugh at his adorable incoherence. "You're so loopy," she said, her voice filled with affection. She squeezed his hand gently. "I love you." "Ish love...love you too, Karen," he slurred. "I know," she said, her voice a mix of amusement and affection. "Tish...tish hard," Plankton mumbled, his cheeks dimpling with his own private joke. The nurse entered the room, checking his vitals with a knowing smile. "It's normal for patients to be a bit out of it after surgery," she said, scribbling notes on her clipboard. "I'm shorry," he said, words still a jumble. Karen couldn't help but lean in closer, her own smile growing wider. "It's ok," she assured him, her voice gentle. The nurse nodded in agreement, her own smile playing at the corners of her lips. "It's quite common," she said, her voice professional but kind. "Ish...Ish...it...over?" he managed to ask, his tongue thick in his mouth. "Yes, sweetheart," Karen said, her voice still filled with love and amusement. "You're all done. They got all your wisdom teeth out." "Thish...thish allll over now-ow." "Almost," Karen said, her voice a gentle melody. "We just need to wait for the anesthesia to wear off a bit more, and then we can go home." Plankton nodded, his eye already drifting shut again. His mouth moved as he attempted to speak, but only slurred sounds came out. Karen leaned in closer, her smile never wavering. "You know, you're pretty chatty for someone who's had their wisdom teeth out." "Ish...Ish always had...shomeshin' to shay," Plankton managed, his speech a series of lisped and elongated sounds. Plankton's eye began to drift closed again, his breathing growing deep and even. The nurse finished her checks and gave Karen instructions for his aftercare. "Make sure he takes it easy," she said. "I will," Karen promised, her screen never leaving Plankton's face. The quiet was filled with the sound of Plankton's snores, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm beneath the blanket. His mouth was still slightly open, and she could see the drool forming at the corner of his lips. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she pulled it out to see a text from Mr. Krabs, Plankton's rival at the Krabby Patty. "How's he doing?" it read. "Loopy," she replied with a smiley face. She had told Mr. Krabs about the surgery the day before, and despite their rivalry, he had offered to come visit when they get back home. The nurse poked her head back in, checking the clock on the wall. "Alright, he's ready to go," she said, her smile warm. Karen nodded, standing up and gently shaking Plankton's shoulder. "Come on," she whispered. "Let's get you home." Plankton's eye blinked open slowly, and he looked around the room with confusion. "Home?" he mumbled, his voice still thick. "Yes, we're going home," Karen said, her voice the balm to his disorientation. She helped him to his feet, supporting his weight as he swayed slightly. The drive back home was a blur of sleep. Plankton's head lolled against the car window, the vibration of the engine lulling him to a doze. "You okay?" Karen asked, glancing at him in the rearview mirror. "Yeah," Plankton mumbled, his voice a sleepy rumble. "Just...tiwed." The drive home was quiet, with only the occasional snore piercing the silence. Karen drove carefully, her eyes flicking between the road and the mirror to check on Plankton. She knew he would be out for the count for a while, and his face was still swollen. As they pulled into their driveway, Plankton stirred. "We're home," Karen said, her voice gentle. He nodded, his eye still half-closed. "Home," he murmured. Karen helped him out of the car, his legs wobbly as he tried to find his balance. She wrapped his arm around her waist, supporting him as they made their way, and he leaned into her, his body heavy with fatigue. The house was quiet as they entered, the only sound the occasional tick of the grandfather clock in the hallway. Karen guided him to the couch, carefully helping him sit down. "Rest here," she said, her voice a gentle command. Plankton nodded, eye closing again. She disappeared into the kitchen, returning with a glass of water and a pillow. "Here," she said, placing the pillow behind his head. He took the glass with a nod, his hand shaking slightly. He took a sip. "Thish...thish ish...good," he managed to say. She knew he was in pain, and the anesthesia was only adding to his confusion. "I'll be right back," she said, her voice a soft whisper. Karen grabbed the pet amoeba puppy, Spot. She carried him back to the living room, where Plankton was slowly coming around. "Look who's here," she said, holding Spot out to him. Spot's blob-like body stretched out in excitement, his little legs waving in the air. Plankton's eye widened at the sight, and a smile spread across his swollen face. "Spot," he murmured, his voice still thick with anesthesia. Karen set Spot on his lap, and the amoeba immediately began to cover him in wet, loving kisses. Plankton chuckled, his hand rising to pet the creature's gelatinous head. "Hey, bubby," he slurred, his speech still compromised. The simple act of touch brought a spark of life to Plankton's eye. "You're good boyth," he said, his voice a mix of affection and pain. Spot's response was a happy wiggle. Karen couldn't help but smile at the sight, Plankton's love for their little amoeba was unwavering. She took a seat beside him, her hand resting gently on his shoulder. "Just rest," she said, her voice a soft command. Plankton nodded, his eyes closing again. Spot continued to shower him with affection, his slimy kisses landing on Plankton. Karen watched them for a moment, her heart swelling with warmth. Then she stood up, knowing there was still more to do to ensure Plankton's recovery went smoothly. In the kitchen, she put together a soft meal for him, something that wouldn't irritate his sensitive mouth. She chopped up some fruit into a small bowl and warmed up a cup of soup. The smells of chicken broth and sweet berries filled the air, a comforting aroma that she hoped would ease his pain. When she returned to the living room, Plankton was asleep, Spot curled up with him. She set the food down on the table, the spoon clinking gently against the porcelain bowl. She took a moment to appreciate the peaceful scene before her, the two of them nestled together, the TV playing a low murmur of background noise. Karen decided to let him sleep for a bit longer. Gently, she lifted Spot off Plankton's lap and placed him on the floor. The amoeba pup quickly scuttled back by the couch, but still on the floor. Karen then turned off the TV, not wanting the noise to disturb Plankton's rest. Just as she was about to leave the room to let him sleep, the doorbell rang. It was Mr. Krabs, his beady eyes looking concerned. She opened the door, whispering, "Shh, he's asleep." Mr. Krabs nodded, his usual gruffness replaced with a rare display of compassion. He held a bag of ice. "Thought he might need these," he said, handing them to her. Karen took the bag gratefully. "Thank you," she whispered. "He's in the living room."