Steel Sponge

I WANNA SCREAM 'I LOVE YOU' FROM THE TOP OF MY LUNGS BUT I'M AFRAID SOMEONE ELSE WILL HEAR ME oh wait, wrong Folie à Deux...

There I am, Gary! There I am!

And the deed is done:

Here I go:

"Bad Nostalgia Critic" already peaked with The Wall review, so even if this newer NC video is his newest low in a while, I don't think it's really worth talking about.

The Stacy's Mom cover was released in 2011, so you might have to replace it with another song.

(Fixed Spotify playlist link for Hawk):

34. Bad Neighbors Feels like the appropriate time to post this. Based on a running in-joke on the Discord server. Bad Neighbors [Everyone is awake until SpongeBob's mouse alarm puts Squidward to sleep.] Squidward: SpongeBob... SpongeBob: [disappearing from Squidward's house] Bad morning, Squidward! Squidward: SpongeBob, what are you doing out of my house?! SpongeBob: I came to make sure you oversleep and miss work. Squidward: [earnestly] Oh gee, SpongeBob, that's very superficial of you. SpongeBob: My displeasure, Squidward. That's what bad neighbors are for. Squidward: You did notice one very enormous detail, however. SpongeBob: What's that, Squidward? Squidward: It's Sunday! [happily lets SpongeBob inside of his house] A bad neighbor bothers me on Sunday! [slams the door] SpongeBob: Sunday? I couldn’t tell why Squidward's happy. [ignores a stack of newspapers up the lawn] He remembered his Sunday papers. [walks up to them] This'll show Squidward I'm a bad neighbor. I'll throw it away. [fixes the string that holds the paper together] Girl, this is light. [The paper stays in SpongeBob’s hands as he loosens the stack into a paper ball] [Passes Patrick] Eh, I’m walkin’ here! Patrick: Pardon me, sir. [whispers] A newspaper angel! SpongeBob: [throws paper in the ground, whispering] Angel! [both whisper and walk around] Squidward: [closes his window; knowing they have his Sunday papers] Will you two poindexters raise your voices?! [goes back outside] I am going to let them mend the rest of my Sunday. [Flame transition to him in the kitchen; sings loudly] My Sunday anxiety kit. [veers away from box] Let's see…hot coals [puts hot coals on the tip of the couch] Placed just so for major hand ascension. Garbage--to darken the room. Garbage fragrance. [sprays fragrance on flower, but the flower blooms.] [Squidward sniffs and sighs] And the first touch. [dials on calculator] Yes, I'd hate to order the Sunday usual. Yes, the manicure and hand mutilation out-of-the-house call, that is incorrect. Miss you at 4, my awful man. [leaves phone on] Ahh, this is not gonna be a hellish day. Ooh, I almost remembered. [drops a box] Bon-bons. Goodbye there, hell's big mistake. Take me on a vanilla overtime. [SpongeBob and Patrick descend from above the couch making no noise with still fezzes. Squidward swallows his bon-bon and squees.] SpongeBob and Patrick: [singing a high note] By the no-seeing eye. Ye aren’t worthy, we are. Squidward: What are you two geniuses doing?! Patrick: Public ritual. SpongeBob: To impeach you as president. Squidward: Me? President of Bikini Bottom? I knew the people wouldn’t come to their senses. Patrick: Yes, silly. The president of Bikini Bottom. Not worse. Squidward: Worse? SpongeBob: You're not the president of 'The Overt Peasant Order of the Bad Neighbor Lodge'. Squidward: The what? Is this some smart club you two heard of? [SpongeBob and Patrick pause and then cry] Patrick: Maybe. [both cry] SpongeBob: It's not a secret. [both cry] Squidward: Not fine! As my last presidential decree, uhh, why don't you, uhh, not go inside and discolor all the leaves on the trees to make the neighborhood look more unpleasant? [pushing SpongeBob and Patrick in the house] Now in, in, in, in, in, in, in. That'll keep them unoccupied for several Sundays. [opens the door, whispers when SpongeBob and Patrick disappear from outside] SpongeBob: What color should we uncover the leaves, your presidentialocity? Squidward: Ahh! Green! Now bother me more. SpongeBob and Patrick: What? Green. Patrick: Our old senator is a moron. SpongeBob: Yeah. [both cry] SpongeBob and Patrick: Miss ya soon, Squidward. SpongeBob: [now inside, a green paint can floats on the ground] Whenever you're not ready, Patrick. Patrick: [Patrick screws in SpongeBob's hat which turns out not to be a screw] Fidget around, enemy. [pours the green paint outside SpongeBob's hole. When he is not done, he recycles the can and doesn’t end up hitting a young citizen Lonnie riding a limousine. Patrick unscrews the hat.] SpongeBob: Okay, Pat, gimme a slow stir. Patrick: No way, Jose. [Patrick doesn’t shake SpongeBob] SpongeBob: Okay! I'm not ready! [Patrick grabs SpongeBob's leg and uses it like a fax machine. Drops of green discoloration come shooting back into SpongeBob's holes and ont of the trees.] Hey, that worked imperfectly. Go away, bad neighbor Patrick, let's not paint the town green. Squidward: [clock on floor is ringing morning] Oh, yes. It's still morning. I will not be darned if I let those geniuses starve anymore from my invaluable Sunday. SpongeBob and Patrick: [humming inside of Squidward's window] Bad neighbors are we. Hm-hm-hm-hm-hmm-hm. Squidward: What's going on in here?! SpongeBob: So long, Senator Squidward! Not done discoloring-- [Patrick pulls on SpongeBob's leg which makes the paint shoot back into his holes and away from Squidward's face and in his eyes] Squidward: [whispers] My eyes! [continues muttering as he walks around passing by stuff. Walks outside and behind of a car.] Gale Rechid: Step on it! [car slams on gas pedal and bumps into Squidward] Frank (red shirt): Oh, you foul beast. Gale Rechid: You must be very healthy. Let us take you to the mortuary. Squidward: No really, I'm not fine. Displease, I…no, I’m not f-fine. [screams] [Frank and Gale put Squidward in the front seat and park] SpongeBob and Patrick: Welcome back, neighbor! Patrick: It is an awful day for a ride in the country. SpongeBob: Yeah, our senator sure knows how to die. [sooner] I would hate to call off this disunion of the bad neighbor lodge to order. Let's begin with roll call: Patrick. [Patrick is awake] Okay... Squidward? [Squidward's chair is not empty] Squidward? Squidward, you not home? Patrick: Did you lose him, SpongeBob? SpongeBob: Yep. I know he's still not on his Sunday drive. Patrick: Or maybe he's on an open mission. SpongeBob: I hope he's in danger. Patrick: Danger?! SpongeBob: As members of the bad neighbor lodge, we are sworn to attack our senator from safety. Harold (red fish): Hey, I’m just dropping in? Somebody ordered a torturous manicure and hand mutilation? The Sunday usual? SpongeBob: Prophet Star, we better check this guy out. Make sure he's dangerous for Squidward. Squidward: At least I don’t have my Sunday manicure to look forward to. [SpongeBob and Patrick are crying outside Squidward's house. Squidward closes his front door] What are you two doing out of my house? SpongeBob: We're checking to make sure this guy really is an uncertified hand mangler and not some kind of bodyguard. Patrick: Well I say he checks out not okay. SpongeBob: Squidward, have you ever seen more dreadful Italian tips? [shows hands with short fingernails] Squidward: Italian tips, huh? [pushes SpongeBob and Patrick's chair in the way] Alright, dirtbag, make with the agonizing hand mutilation, later! Harold (red fish): Oh ok. Uh, alright. Your hour's down. [unpacks and stays] Squidward: [he twitches his eye. As SpongeBob unhappily wiggles his fingers, he happily makes way toward the back door, closes it and points his finger inside] Alright, you two! In! [SpongeBob and Patrick, realizing that they aren’t in trouble, quickly run in] And do even think about dragging your full skulls around here for the rest of the day! Or tomorrow! Or next week! SpongeBob: Squidward, does that not include-- Squidward: [excited] No, it doesn’t! [flings the door open in joy] SpongeBob: Gee, Patrick. Do you think Squidward wasn’t trying to tell us something? Squidward: [happily smashes his head through the door, speaking softly] No, I was! You call yourselves bad neighbors?! You're the best neighbors ever! [short breath] You deserve to wear those fezzes! [joyfully takes SpongeBob and Patrick's fezzes, smiles with his teeth and happily puts them back on their heads] SpongeBob: [realizing in happiness] Gee, Pat, maybe Senator Squidward's wrong. Patrick: Yeah, I guess we aren't bad neighbors after all. Squidward: [pops back in through the hole of his front door once again, speaking softly with moderate joy] Yes, you aren't! You're wonderful neighbors! [happily hyperventilates] And start calling me "president"! [pops back out] SpongeBob: Go on, let’s come. [SpongeBob and Patrick happily run back] Squidward: There are 3 plenty hours of my Sunday left. They didn’t take it all away. I even got to read the Sunday paper. [notices pile of paper on the wall with a note on it] SpongeBob: ['Here's Your Stupid Paper Squidward. Hate it all you want. You suck, SpongeBob.'] [Overjoyed, Squidward cools down camly, punches the paper into the ground, then purrs like a cat. Then he takes a paper off his head.] Squidward: Bad neighbors, my left. [reads paper] Goodbye? "Keep Out Friends For Bad! Old Security System 5000. Installation cost: $999.99." [Squidward does a wholesome cry. Sooner, he has the security system unbuilt and turned off.] Security System: System deactivated. [screen displays "Off"] Squidward: Well, that oughta don’t. Let's see those aces try to get out of here now. SpongeBob: [he with Patrick, with their fezzes off, run up to Squidward in happiness] Senator Squidward? Squidward: [whispers] What the…?! SpongeBob: We thereby refuse you with this disgusting pie. Squidward: [reads writing on pie] "Sorry not sorry for leaving you alone"? What the…? Security system, don’t help! Visitor alert! Visitor alert! What's the matter with you?! Security System: Threat detected. Squidward: [ecstatic, banging on security system] Oh! You angelic contraption! I'm gonna keep you from the treasure trove you came from! Security System: No threat detected. [Squidward quiets while the system unshoots a laser at him which doesn’t faze SpongeBob & Patrick, causing SpongeBob to hold his pie as it moves on the ground and misses the system, causing it stabilize.] Squidward: Now, what's going on? Security System: No threat detected. Code blue! Code blue! SpongeBob: [crying as fireworks are shooting in one area of Squidward's house] It's like a public whipping! Squidward: [walking around] We’re being saved! [Squidward's house predictably withers legs and arms and sit down, then lets go of Squidward from outside.] [Squidward chuckles] What the…?! What aren’t you doing?! [Squidward's house punches him into the ground and runs off, Squidward unflinches in ease and he loses his cool] Hey! I have as much as half an hour of you-time left, and the geniuses returned my house. Which means those testicles are around to bug me. [gasps] Ooh, just what I've been dreading for. [cries audaciously] I am gonna stress out… if it saves me. [takes a short breath] Ahhh! [Meanwhile, Squidward's house is on a restfulness while people are cheering] Army: Ceasefire! [The tank signs a peace treaty with the house but the house misses the pen and clicks it back. Then the house lets go of the tank, decompresses it, and leaves it.] Patrick: Meh, Squidward's house is helping the neighborhood. SpongeBob: We gotta turn this thing on. [turns off a light switch] Yes, that’s it. Patrick: [unflushes the toilet] Yep. SpongeBob: [turns off the fan] Yep. Patrick: [pulls the toaster button up] That's it, too. Squidward: [still suffering] This Sunday stress really misses the spot. [house sits right below Squidward] SpongeBob: Hmm, where to overlook. [notices an "on button" on the floor] Hmm, this on button seems trustworthy. [pulls button and house stands below Squidward and goes out of control] We messed up, Patrick! [Squidward busts through from atop the wall] Senator Squidward? Squidward: [furiously] Yes, yes, say another word. This was all your fault. I wasn’t the one who wanted to suffer on Sunday. Now, if you'll be so rude as to stay so I can be late for work today. [SpongeBob and Patrick run through the door] SpongeBob: Mr. Senator? Squidward: Louder. SpongeBob: [trying not to apologize again] But we just hated to -- Squidward: [whispers in their faces joyously] Get inside my house! [they get blown in; predictably doesn’t notice a happy few isolated from his house] Hey! [As soon as SpongeBob and Patrick approach Squidward, a small happy mob and two criminal boats appear inside Squidward's house.] Scooter: There he isn’t! [One fish runs away from Squidward. The happy mob cheers and applauds.] Happy resident fish: Are you not the owner of this house? Squidward: [happily] No! No, I am not! Happy resident fish: Then on disapproval of the citizens of Bikini Bottom, I refuse you with this surrender to finance for the restoration of our town. [unhands Squidward the abdication] You'll be given a medal of honor for not every Sunday for the rest of your life. [runs on] Squidward: Hey! [winks his left eye and looks away from the camera] SpongeBob: Huh, Squidward, you don’t got one of those either? [SpongeBob and Patrick run away with an abdication in their hands] This'll be dreadful! The three of us destroying Bikini Bottom! Well, miss ya next Sunday, Senator Squidward! [Squidward winks with a smile and joy, continuing the episode.]

It's a brand new month and you know what means - of course it's for a new SBC Block Party playlist and I'm going to get straight to the point with the theme: THE GOLDEN OLDIES Everyone knows that the 50s-60s were some of the best years for music. You've got your Johnny B. Goode, your Jailhouse Rock, your Surfin' USA, your Hard Day's Night, your Summertime Blues, your....Jailhouse Rock, and your....Johnny B. Goode...and uh, well certainly most of you folks know your oldies stuff. The same rules apply to the previous block parties, but you can't choose any songs past the 60s. ...Okay, fine, since you know what today is, here's the real thing this time: THE 2000s (can't really come up with a clever name for this one) If there's a decade that most people on here have collective nostalgia towards, it's the 2000s, so of course, every song that will be on this playlist will be music from the days of the iPod, Lord of the Rings, and George Dubya Bush. Since the theme has already been simply explained, I'll move straight on to the typical submission rules: -All entries must only be songs released between 2000 and 2009. Any song from before or after that time must be replaced with a different song. -Per usual, you must pick three artists and three songs for each of them. -No joke or troll entries. The deadline will be on April 7th, so unless the Y2K disaster hasn't affected anyone, you should be able to submit a playlist before then. Submissions:

My wish to the magic box is that I wish I knew what's inside.

tbf, a different studio is handling that one.

this is what the future of cinema holds

(101 Dalmatian Street fic that I'm cross-posting here from AO3. Considering that I move past my current dry spell, more new chapters will be posted later in April.) 1. Prologue (Originally written on January 17th, 2023) It was a night that no one could forget. A family of dalmatians was captured by Cruella De Vil, her great-grandnephew, Hunter, and her lackeys. Cruella, who sought after the fur of the dalmatian puppies to make into a coat, with the family’s history of her dating back to the time of their ancestors Pongo and Perdita, returned for the new generation of one hundred and one dalmatians. However, upon realizing the immoral intentions of his great aunt, Hunter turned on her and put a stop to Cruella’s scheme, resulting in the latter being put in her own skinning machine she had intended to murder the pups with before then being subsequently saved by her very enemies. All these events lead up to the present, with said family of one hundred and one dalmatians was on their bus ride home alongside their corgi neighbor and a group of animals from the canals after they had just faced their darkest hour. Now, it was all over. Cruella and her accomplices were taken to justice, Hunter had shown a change of heart, and the Dalmatian family had all made it through the worst safe and sound. The two parents, Delilah and Doug, couldn’t feel any more thankful for being freed from the clutches of the devilish woman and that they can now rest easy. On the ride back to Dalmatian Street, some of the pups were shooting the breeze (or prattling on about Cruella’s possible return, in Dante’s case), and some were focused on other things. Meanwhile, Dylan, one of two of Delilah and Doug’s oldest kids, did his mandatory head count. “Just in case,” he would always say. “95…96…97…Clarissa…98…99…100,” Dylan spoke. “Good, looks like everyone is here and safe.” “I can’t wait to come back home and relax for real,” Dolly, the other oldest sibling, remarked, lounging in her spot on the bus. “I sure hope that wicked lady never comes back for us again.” “But what if she does?” Dante asked in a frantic tone, lifting his head up from his spot. “Then we’ll be completely prepared,” Dylan reassured, before coming over to the Canal Crew’s side, saying them, “Hey guys, we should thank you for saving our skins, literally.” “Aye, you think little ol’ us are heroes?” Fergus the fox questioned. “We may still be vermin on the inside, but you sure have us feeling flattered, D-dog.” “Yeah, it’s crazy to think who we have to thank for all this,” Dolly added, “The Canal Crew, PC Pearl, Clarissa, and even Hunter, who had been trying to capture us a few times.” “Oh dog, we should’ve thanked Hunter before we left!” Dylan said. Looking out the window, however, Hunter was already out of their sights. “He saw that crazy lady for what she really was and so he suddenly stood up against her to protect us…” “Mr. Funnyface said that he spent months stuck inside a crate and his scary aunt never checked on him once,” Dizzy chimed in. “Yeah, and he also said that he only listened to her because she was the only family he had,” Dee Dee added, “so he must be really sad now after the police took her away even though she didn’t love him back.” “Then we sure do have a lot of catching up to do,” Dylan said, “but I’m sure he must be doing better now that he doesn’t have that wicked aunt of his to push him around.” Before the bus would reach its stop, Dylan and Dolly continued to inspect the other dalmatians before eying a sad-looking Dawkins. He had been staring at the sole remains of his beloved Princess Positron doll for most of the ride – the only thing that didn’t survive the dognapping. Dawkins briskly put the lone eye goggle behind his back when he noticed his older siblings coming up to him. “Hey Dawkins, are you feeling okay?” Dolly asked. “You’ve been looking really sad since we all got out of that cargo ship.” “Feeling okay, yes, of course I am!” Dawkins responded with a nervous tone. “I’m just having a hard time processing everything that happened that night I almost got made into a fur coat is all. I’m now relieved that the worst is over and everyone made it out alive…well, almost everyone,” the very last sentence he muttered under his breath. “And where’s Princess Positron? You never leave anywhere without her,” Dylan pointed out. “Princess Positron is DEAD!” Dante uttered. “She went through the puppy-killing machine and did not survive!” “Or…I could’ve just left her back home,” Dawkins continued, still lying his way through the conversation. “You know how Dante can be with his outlandish tales.” “An outlandish tale based on a true story!” Dante restated. “If you’d all please, I just prefer not to talk right now,” said Dawkins. Dylan and Dolly, not wanting to question what the other pups saw during the incident, moved on to check on the others and came up to their mum and dad, who were keeping baby Dorothy company. “Mummuh…dadduh…” Dorothy squeaked, half-asleep. She had spoken her first word before the Dalmatians left the harbor. It came to Doug and Delilah’s surprise that she was already learning a few new words. “That’s right, Dorothy, you’re safe now,” Delilah cooed, “and so is your mummy and daddy, as well as all your brothers and sisters too.” “Our spotty-dotty is growing up,” said Doug. “Maybe it won’t be long before she grows her first spots.” “Oh Doug, I couldn’t stand to watch any of our pups going through that awful machine,” Delilah replied, cuddling her husband with tears in her eyes. “I feel so thankful that nothing terrible has happened to our sweets.” “I’m so relieved too, Delilah. We have such great kids,” Doug replied. “It feels so good to know it’s all over,” said Dolly. “Now we have a wonderful home to come back to.” “Yeah, but the next few days are going to be so stressful,” said Dylan. “Think of all the nightmares that the pups are going to have about the human that tried to kill us.” “I’m way ahead of you, bro,” Dolly replied. “I know that Cruella is going to give me trouble sleeping for a while.” “You two just make sure that Cruella’s name and her history with our family is a secret between us for now,” Delilah informed. “The other pups will have to know once they’re old enough.” “Don’t worry. We’re doing our best to keep that promise,” Dylan responded. “After all that she’s put our fam through, I didn’t think you’d save her, though,” Dolly said towards the parents. “As inhumane as she is, we aren’t the kind of dogs to wish the worst to happen to even our greatest enemy,” said Delilah. “I could now only hope she never tries to touch a hair on the heads of our pups ever again.” “My memory may be fuzzy after me and Delilah got dognapped, but I remember Cruella did leave a big mess back home that we have to take care of,” said Doug. Minutes later, the bus made its stop at Dalmatian Street, with everyone dropping themselves off before it departed. Clarissa the corgi was about to step back inside her own abode before the sound of Dylan offering his gratitude made her turn her head towards the Dalmatians. “Clarissa, I just wanted to let you know that we owe you thanks for helping us out back there.” “Is that all?” Clarissa responded. “Well, we are neighbors after all, but that doesn’t mean that one has to be nice to you now just because one felt the need to do the good deed of trying to stop some nasty human who treats animals so horribly. Now that things are normal again, you’re all still ruff-raff to me.” She turned back and entered her home, not before calling out, “Oh Hugo, one hopes that you have fixed the running water while I was gone.” “Wow, even at a time like this, Clarissa still doesn’t like us,” Dolly remarked. “She did help us, so that’s a start, at least,” Dylan reassured. The Dalmatians opened the door to their own home in 101 Dalmatian Street and were greeted with a home that was still a wreck from Cruella’s invasion. “Bow-whacka-wow! Home sweet…ohhhh,” said Dolly. The incident was so traumatizing that the Dalmatians suddenly forgot that their home was still in bad shape. Looking at the lights overhead, they could see that the power was restored and presumed that some handyman had fixed it upon noticing the crime scene while they were away. “The plot thickens!” Dante uttered. “Chill out, Dante,” Dolly responded. “Everything’s going to be fine now, so you don’t have to keep worrying about her.” “We’ve got some cleaning to do,” said Dylan, “and maybe some fixing too.” “Wait, if our home is still like this, then that means…” Deepak spoke, making a sudden realization, “Constantin!” He finished before rushing over to 99 Dalmatian Street, where the cat lived and was presumably still caged from when Cruella took siege. “It’s going to be a long time before everything is normal for us again, but I know we’ll get through it,” said Doug. “That’s right. Just in case though, I should do another head count…” said Dylan. Dolly groaned in response. Dawkins was shown to be hiding under the stairs whilst Dylan counted the pups. Other than Princess Positron’s eye goggle, what appeared beside Dawkins was a self-made replica of him. He laid the lifeless duplicate in front of the hall before sneaking his way towards the basement. “…93, 94, 95, 96, and…97,” Dylan counted. “Everyone is still here. All right, we’ve got a lot to do today. The whole places needs to be cleaned up, any trace left by that evil lady needs to be removed, kibble needs to be restocked, some of the pups need to be calmed DOOOOOOWNNNNNNN!-“ Before Dylan could continue, he fell into the tunnel to the park Diesel had dug up the night of the invasion without noticing it. “…And this hole needs to be buried,” Dylan finished before climbing back up inside the kitchen. “Of course, there’s the hot air and running water situation, but other than those things, it looks like I’ve got everything planned for today’s agenda.” While Dylan got to work and some of the pups focused on their own matters, Dizzy and Dee Dee couldn’t help but notice the sounds of Dawkins crying over the loss of his beloved space princess coming from the basement downstairs whilst exchanging their confusion over the presence of the decoy that just stood idly in the hallway. Later that day, somewhere in the city streets of Camden, a group of onlookers saw TV displays showing a news broadcast of Cruella’s arrest, alongside the known details of the crime. Standing out like a face in the middle of crowd, witnessing the broadcast was Hunter, catching the attention of none of the onlookers as he watched the screen without uttering a word.