Chapter 5: Campfire Funnies
Out on the nighttime ocean, a ship was sailing through the dark waters with a familiar one-eyed single-cell organism standing at the bow.
“I feel like king of the world!” Plankton shouted with an excited smile, spreading his arms out. Then stopped with a relaxed sigh, “Or at least I will once I get that golden spatula. Soon, I will have even better krabby patties than Krabs could ever produce.”
Then he gave an evil chuckle. “Ooh, I haven’t felt this excited since the day I started going after that secret formula.” he quickly swung into a confused look, “In fact, I feel more rushed to get that spatula more than I thought. I wonder why.”
He growled angrily. “That settles it! Next stop, I’m getting off this slow-moving crate and finding those idiots on foot.” he smirked and rubbed his hands together, “You better watch out, Krabs. That precious spatula will be all mine.”
Meanwhile, in the Muerto Woods, Mr. Krabs and his employees (including Patrick) had walked through the woods for hours and eventually decided to rest for the night. They made camp on a small stone cliff-side, free from any wildlife they didn’t want to encounter in the forest.
Everything was dark and blurry at first until the camera zoomed in on Squidward sitting on a rock in front of a campfire, roasting a weenie on the flames with a bored expression. At the lower right corner was the word “Rec” in red. Then Patrick’s voice shouted, “Hey, Squidward! I can see you!”
Squidward noticed the camera pointed at his face and he frowned angrily. “Get that thing out of my face, Patrick!” he demanded.
The camera quickly shifted away from Squidward and stopped on Mr. Krabs who was snuggling his cash register. “You didn’t like being stuffed in that cramped travelin’ bag, did ya, Cashie?” Mr. Krabs said to the cash register in a babyish voice.
The camera zoomed in on him as Mr. Krabs continued to converse with the cash register, “Well, I couldn’t just leave ya back at the Krusty Krab with no company and no one to protect your money, could I?” then he looked up and noticed the camera focused on him. His eyes widen and he hoards the cash register. “Hey, hey, hey!” he shouted. “There’s a law about videotaping someone’s private conversations!”
Then he shifts the camera away and turns it right onto SpongeBob who was sitting on the log next to Patrick, blowing the fire off of a weenie on a stick he was holding.
“Hi, SpongeBob.” Patrick greeted as the sponge noticed the camcorder pointing him.
SpongeBob shrieked and tossed the weenie away until he blushed and started acting shy, “Oh, Patrick…if I had known I’d be videotaped, I would’ve freshened up a bit.”
“SpongeBob!” Patrick said in a disappointed tone. “You have to say something to the video camera or this whole trip will be a total bust!”
“Ooh, a video log. Okay, just give me a minute.” SpongeBob looked away from the camera and coughed in his fist to clear his throat. Then he inhaled through his nose and took a deep breath out his mouth before acknowledging the camera again. “Good evening.” SpongeBob greeted in a urbane voice, “My name is SpongeBob SquarePants. And I am here with my best friend and camera man, Patrick Star.”
Patrick turned the camera upward and gave a close-up smile and chuckle into the camera lens. Then turned it back to SpongeBob, who continued narrating, “And here also is our good friend, Squidward Tentacles.” The camera pointed at Squidward, who tried his best to ignore them.
“And the man behind the journey, Mr. Krabs.” The camera went over to Krabs, who quickly stopped cuddling his cash register and gave the camera a nervous giggle.
Then the camera pointed back to SpongeBob, who happily continued to narrate, “Here we are after Day 1 of our perilous journey to the Arctic Ocean. We are still days away from our goal to throw this lovely golden spatula into the hot volcano.” He took out his golden spatula to show it off, “That’s because inside this spatula is the trapped soul of a deceased fellow fry cook, Hoagie Grindulas. Say hi to the folks back home, Hoagie.” He giddily waved the spatula to the camera. “He’s supposed to be evil. But I think he’s a misunderstood fry cook, who makes delicious krabby patties- and I mean delicious.”
“SpongeBob!” Patrick interrupted angrily as he lowered the camera. “You need to put more feeling into it.”
SpongeBob wasn’t sure what he did wrong, but he lightheartedly attempted to change the subject, “Well, how about I film you this time? After all, we need shots of the camera man too.”
“Oh, okay.” Patrick happily agreed and handed SpongeBob the camcorder. “How do I look?”
SpongeBob looked through the camcorder and gave him a thumb-up as he answered with a smile, “Like a million clamshells.”
Patrick chuckled and said, “All right! I always remember what to say.”
SpongeBob continued to film Patrick. “Say hi to the people, Patrick- and don’t forget to give me a big smile.”
But suddenly, Patrick got a nervous look and started to sweat, “Uh…uh…uh…” he stammered. “I forgot my line!” he yelled in panic.
“How about putting that thing away.” Squidward dourly suggested. “In case you’re too stupid to remember, we aren’t on some pleasure cruise. As much as I wish we were.”
SpongeBob lowered the camera from his eye and responded, “Well, what do you think we should do, Squidward? Sing campfire songs? Tell ghost stories?”
“Oh! Oh! Oh!” Patrick shouted, waving his hand in the air. “I got a story to tell!”
“Really, Patrick?” SpongeBob asked with a smile. “Let’s hear it.”
“Okay,” Patrick nodded and began to tell his scary story. “Once upon a time…there was a scary ghost. He was so scary that whenever someone looked at him, they died.”
SpongeBob shrieked in fright, but Squidward just rolled his eyes. Patrick continued with his story, “No one knew how to defeat him, so the ghost flew into town and scared everyone to death. The End.”
“Ohhhh…that really was a scary ghost story.” SpongeBob said with a scared look.
“It was scary, alright.” Squidward said dully, not even looking frightened.
“And kinda sad.” SpongeBob added, now looking depressed.
“Well, duh, of course it was.” Patrick said, looking offended. “If it had a happy ending, then it wouldn’t be a ghost story.”
“Well, if you’re lookin’ for a yarn to spin, I got one.” Mr. Krabs yearningly intervened.
“No thanks, Mr. Krabs.” Patrick replied, shaking his head. “I’m not really the knitting-type.”
Mr. Krabs had an annoyed look and said, “Let me rephrase that. I got a scary story to tell.”
“Wow, really?” SpongeBob asked excitedly.
“Aye, aye. This one is about where we be headed: The Arctic Ocean.”
“NO! NO!” Patrick yelled in horror. “Not the Arctic Ocean! Anything but the Arctic Ocean!”
“Shh, shh, shh.” SpongeBob shushed gently as he placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay, Patrick. It’ll help when we get to the Arctic Ocean, so we’ll know what to expect.”
Patrick eventually calmed down and gave a nod and barely audible, “Okay.”
Mr. Krabs began to tell his tale, “From here to the Arctic Ocean. The dangers are nowhere near as devastating as the ones there.”
“Dangers?” Squidward questioned, raising an eyebrow until SpongeBob and Patrick loudly shush him.
Mr. Krabs continued, “The Arctic Ocean is a treacherous wasteland; nothing but wind full of the ice and snow that cover ground you step in. But once ya cross that frozen tundra, you find all the cold disappear as you approach the wretched volcano. The first step on the top is like walking straight into Davey Jones’s Locker. Its mouth unleashing smoke and its belly full of hot magma and fire. Once something goes in…it never comes out…uncooked.”
As Squidward stared in awe, and SpongeBob and Patrick clutching each other in fear; Mr. Krabs suddenly stood up and grinned, “And that’s why we’re throwin’ that cursed spatula into the mouth, argh, argh, argh, argh, argh!” he laughed.
SpongeBob and Patrick glance at each other and reluctantly laugh along too.
Mr. Krabs then grabbed his cash register and announced, “Well, you all better get some shut eye. We get up first thing in the mornin’ to continue on.”
“If only I was a morning person.” Squidward groaned as he stood up and walked over to his resting spot.
As Patrick stood up with a yawn, SpongeBob walked over to his travel pack, and lay down while secretly looking at the spatula in his hands, looking a bit unsure.
“If only we didn’t have to throw you into a volcano, Hoagie.” He quietly said to the spatula. “But if it’ll free your soul, it’s for the best.” He kissed the spatula goodnight and went to sleep with a smile on his face.