Ah, Goo Lagoon—I mean, TV Tropes. A vast database of confusingly-named tropes (looking at you, Fantastic Racism!), wick checks (have you gotten yours looked at lately?), and an endless amount of headscratching over media. I mean, just look at the Headscratchers page for The Price is Right. Why are people up in arms about contestants bidding 420? Who made you the fun police? I just—
Oh, right. I’m supposed to be talking about *checks notes* SpongeBob SquarePants. My apologies.
The SpongeBob Headscratchers page is full of interesting questions (“How would you ever get enough people willing to form a seven-mile spanking machine?” for one) but we only have time for one pressing issue today: where was perennial runner-up for Krusty Krab employee of the month Squidward Tentacles during the events of Nasty Patty?
Would Squidward have ruined the plot and made the episode less funny? Well, that’s what you’re here to find out, aren’t you? So, without further ado:
Episode 53: What If...Squidward Had Been in Nasty Patty?
Today was supposed to be one of Squidward’s rare days off. He’d insisted on a “mental health day,” and Mr. Krabs, eager to increase employee loyalty by practicing a little New Age management, agreed. Squidward had the day all mapped out: he was going to sleep in, catch up on his reading, and maybe even spend some time rotting on the couch while watching The Reef Housewives of New Kelp City. (Hey, he may have prided himself on being a man of culture, but he couldn’t help having his guilty pleasures.)
It was a bright, sunny day, and Squidward got the idea to watch some television while having a nice bowl of Kelp Flakes. He was looking forward to relaxing for once and enjoying his day—what a concept!—when a special news bulletin from the Realistic Fish Head changed everything.
Realistic Fish Head: We interrupt this can-can for a special news bulletin. Be on the lookout for a man, who's been passing himself off as a health inspector in order to obtain free food. That's all for now.
Squidward nearly spit out his Kelp Flakes. Key word, nearly, because he bought this from the bougie grocery store in town and he’d be damned if he let seven dollars go to waste.
Squidward knew that the Krusty Krab was due for a health inspection one of these days. He also knew that Mr. Krabs and SpongeBob weren’t the most rational creatures, even on a good day. So his mental health holiday would have to wait: the reputation of the Krusty Krab was at stake. Seriously, how would those barnacle heads function without him?
Meanwhile, at the Krusty Krab, Mr. Krabs and SpongeBob were enacting their revenge on the (allegedly) fake health semester, cackling with glee as the man gagged on the titular nasty patty.
“Hold it right there!” Squidward gasped, out of breath as if he’d just biked the Tour de France instead of taking the minutes-long ride to the Krusty Krab. “What are you two doing to this poor man?”
“Squidward, you’re here on your day off!” SpongeBob squealed. A smirk spread across his face. “You missed us, didn’t you, Squidward?”
Before Squidward could reply, Mr. Krabs jumped in, waving one of his claws dismissively. “Nothing to worry about here, Mr. Squidward. Nobody scams their way to a free meal at the Krusty Krab on my watch!”
Squidward’s eye twitched. His boss couldn’t actually think that—
Bang!
The health inspector slipped on some condiment packets, banging his head on the table and falling to the ground in a crumpled heap. He groaned, a fly escaping his mouth in the process. Squidward was bewildered. What on earth did they feed this guy?
Realistic Fish Head: We interrupt your laughter at other people's expense to bring you this news flash. The fake inspector has been captured. Here is his picture. [A picture is shown on the TV, but it doesn't look like the real health inspector.] If a health inspector comes to your restaurant and he's not this guy, he's real.
SpongeBob wiped some sweat from his brow, relieved. “Phew, that's a relief, eh, Mr. Krabs? I'm sure our guy will understand if we just explain the situation. Then we can all have a good laugh about it.”
Mr. Krabs looked uneasily at the (real!) unconscious health inspector on the ground. “I don’t think he’ll be laughing, boy…”
“Why, sir?” SpongeBob asked worriedly.
“Because that patty killed him!” Mr. Krabs cried out.
He and SpongeBob screamed, glanced at the health inspector, and then screamed again.
Squidward sighed wearily. He could’ve been relaxing at home with the latest Fisherton period romance novel or his beloved Reef Housewives right now instead of dealing with this bullshrimp. “Will you two calm down? He’s not dead!”
“Of course he’s dead, Squidward! I know what a dead body looks like!” Mr. Krabs snapped. “We gotta get rid of this body before anyone sees it. We gotta get out and bury it!”
“He bumped his head on a table,” Squidward bluntly responded. “He’s probably unconscious at worst.”
“Mr. Krabs, I don’t wanna go to jail!” SpongeBob blubbered, completely ignoring Squidward’s logical response.
Squidward sighed. “SpongeBob, you didn’t—”
Mr. Krabs smacked Squidward across the face. “Shut yer yap, Mr. Squidward! Now, are you gonna help us move this dead body or not?”
Squidward sighed, looking up at the ceiling. “Neptune help us all.”
Squidward walked over to the health inspector, checking his pulse. “He’s still alive!” Squidward exclaimed.
Mr. Krabs broke out into a cold sweat. “Oh barnacles, now I wish he was actually dead.”
“How come, Mr. Krabs?” SpongeBob wondered.
“Because he’s going to give us a bad review once he wakes up!” Mr. Krabs responded. “We fed him toenail clippings! Well, actually, you fed him that, SpongeBob. Oh Neptune, I’m gonna have to get a new fry cook!”
Now it was Squidward’s turn to deliver a fresh smack across the face to Mr. Krabs. “Get a hold of yourself, Krabs! SpongeBob, throw out that disgusting concoction you made for the health inspector and make him a fresh patty for when he wakes up.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were in charge and this restaurant was the Krusty Squid,” Mr. Krabs sarcastically remarked.
Okay, that was the last straw. Squidward went into the supply closet, gathering some rope and a shovel. (He didn’t know why Krabs had these items readily available, but some questions are best left unanswered.)
Mr. Krabs chuckled nervously. “What you got there, Mr. Squidward?”
“This is for your own good, Eugene,” Squidward said, raising the shovel above his head.
Mr. Krabs turned pale. “Squidward. Squidward? Please? I’ll let you have a free glass of water—”
BONK.
Once the annoying crustacean was knocked out and tied up, Squidward went into action. While SpongeBob whipped up a non-disgusting patty for the health inspector, Squidward ran around the restaurant, cleaning the place up. Once it looked presentable again, Squidward lifted up the health inspector and got him back into a comfortable seat. Then he got a bag of ice from the freezer and applied it to the health inspector’s head so the swelling on his bruise could go down.
Squidward had never cared this much about his job in his life. It was as if he were possessed by someone who actually wanted to put in maximum effort in their performance.
“Mr. Krabs better give me a raise for this,” Squidward grumbled. “Or at least another day off.”
SpongeBob burst out of the kitchen, a steaming hot, fresh krabby patty in his hands. Squidward’s mouth watered. Maybe if he could have just one bite…
Get a hold of yourself, Squidward thought, shaking himself out of his reverie.
Squidward gently roused the health inspector, not wanting to startle him. “Excuse me, sir…”
The fish’s eyes fluttered open. “Oh wow…how long was I out for? Am I still at the Krusty Krab?”
“You sure are, sir! Hope you enjoy one of our delectable Krabby patties!” SpongeBob chirped, before giving the health inspector his meal.
The health inspector eyed the patty cautiously before taking a bite. You know those love songs that seem to perfectly capture the euphoria of falling for someone for the first time? That health inspector experienced that level of bliss as soon as he’d swallowed his bite.
“This is fantastic!” he cried out. “Cooked to perfection.”
SpongeBob was beaming with pride, while Squidward actually allowed a smile to spread across his face.
“Thank you, sir!” SpongeBob enthused, looking close to tears, as if he didn’t have people every day raving about how good the krabby patties were here.
“So…do we pass?” Squidward nervously asked.
The health inspector smiled, scribbling on a notepad and putting a giant A+ in red ink across the page. “With flying colors! You know, before I passed out, I was choking on something, and for a second I thought it was the food I ate. Wouldn’t it be crazy if it turned out you guys were trying to poison me?”
Squidward chuckled nervously. “Poisoned food at the Krusty Krab? Absolutely not.”
Just then, the kitchen door swung upon and Mr. Krabs sprung out, somehow free from his restraints.(Squidward had totally forgotten about Krabs’s strength training from his time in the navy.) “Mr. Squidward, I oughta dock your pay for that little—oh, it’s the health inspector! You’re alive!”
The health inspector cocked an eyebrow. “Of course I am! Why wouldn’t I be?”
Squidward cleared his throat. “Thank you so much for stopping by and giving us such a glowing review! Hope you have a splendid day!” He flashed his best customer service smile at the health inspector.
“What’s going on with you, boy? Did you hit yer head?” Krabs questioned.
SpongeBob giggled. “You’re so funny, Mr. Krabs!”
“Well, I better be heading off. I’m due to give the Shell Shack an inspection now. Hope that talking dog is performing again!” The health inspector shoved the rest of the patty into his mouth, swallowing it with a large gulp (Squidward thought he was asking for another choking hazard by doing that, but whatever), and went off.
“Aw, Squidward, what would we do without you?” SpongeBob gushed, pulling Squidward into a hug. Squidward tensed up, ready to bolt, but decided to let the little twerp hug it out. SpongeBob did fuck things up by nearly killing the health inspector, but he did come through for the restaurant in the end.
“Yeah, you’re welcome,” Squidward cockily replied. Thank goodness he showed up. The Krusty Krab would burn down without a competent cashier like him at the helm!
“This is very heartwarming and all, but we’re running a restaurant here! Back to work, both of ya!” Mr. Krabs barked. “We’re burning money here!”
Squidward sighed, changing the sign hanging by the entrance from “Closed” to “Open,” and prepared for—hopefully—an average, uninteresting day. After stopping Krabs and SpongeBob from burying a health inspector, the poor squid couldn’t deal with any more excitement. (Well, at least until he got home. Then the drama of a bunch of middle-aged housewives was calling his name.)
there are plenty of good songs on the billboard charts…maybe you should be more open-minded? “All modern music bad” is such a narrow viewpoint to have; you’re missing out on so much good stuff
