Squidward raised his head and found himself nose to nose with... "SpongeBob? What are you doing?"
Spongebob was kneeling with his hands flat on the tile, mirroring Squidward. "I thought we were playing Patty Floor. Like Patty Cake, except you play with the floor. I invented it to cheer myself up if a patty falls on the floor at work." He rose up on his knees and started to play. "Patty floor, patty floor, let's have some fun! And put that Krabby Patty back on the bun!"
Suppressing his gag reflex, Squidward groaned, "And you ask me how I stay thin."
"Don't worry. Only one in every 317 or so comes from the patty floor. Next time you hear me crying in the kitchen, just come on back and play! It's even better with two."
"Crying in the kitchen?"
"No, Squidward! Playing Patty Floor! It's a good thing I could stop by to play. You looked so sad when Squilliam left." SpongeBob took Squidward's face in his hand. "But fret not! I heard him say, 'I'll give Squiddy a good seeing-to!'" SpongeBob's impression of Squilliam was a little too on-point. "D'hahahahaha! He must have something really fun planned for you."
By now, Squidward no longer looked sad. He looked like a bomb about to detonate. "Listen hole-head, until you have even the tiniest bit of insight into my predicament, go play your game in traffic."
SpongeBob clasped Squidward's hand in his. "But you can tell me anything! I'll always be there for you." His eyes sparkled as a film of tears was building.
As usual, he yanked his arm away. "I know. That's the problem. You are always there. Always there to wreck everything, just like you wrecked my evening with Squilvia!" He got up, attached his suction cups to the top of SpongeBob's head, and rolled him out the door like a bowling ball. Except SpongeBob rolled about as well as a square bowling ball would, making it barely outside the door. Glaring down at the sponge, Squidward added, "I don't need you making this any worse. Get out of my house," and at the top of his lungs, "Get out of my life!" The door slammed shut, sending up a shower of bubbles.
For a moment as fleeting as a bubble popping, SpongeBob's insides wrung tight with guilt. But he didn't allow himself to dwell on it. "Hmm, Squidward really cares about Squilliam. There must be something I can do! I owe it to Squidward to set this right." Determined, he smacked a fist into his open hand, which hurt a little. "I must get a tiny bit of in-something into his predica-whatty! But first, I better get the dictionary." He squeaked off home.
Squidward heaved a deep sigh as he heard the footsteps fade away. "Hmmph, serves me right for leaving the door open. I've had more than my share of intruders today."
With his house to himself at last, he rubbed his temples, trying to center himself to come up with a plan. Every line of thought spiked his anxiety. "Squilliam thinks he can back me into a corner. He's got another thing coming. This is blackmail! I have a mind to call the BBPD." He picked up the phone, but before he could dial, a tidal wave of previous run-ins with Bikini Bottom's "finest" swept through his memory. Citations for littering simply for existing near garbage. Being hauled off to county jail for breaking Patrick's stupid game. And especially after I stepped in to teach music in Squilliam's place at the prestigious Jelliard, those fools will be all too happy to take his side. He slammed the phone down. "No thank you! Justice may be blind, but it's also tasteless. I'll have to resolve this myself."
In silence, he plotted a course of action over a light dinner and camomile tea, and got ready for bed. Before turning out the lights, Squidward laid out a black sweater and cap. He set his alarm clock. He would need an early start, and he wasn't even going to work the next day.
The sun was beginning to pierce the water above as he crept into position. The light dazzled his eyes. It had been hard enough to rip himself out of bed before dawn, but now he was running out of time in the dark. Get that tape. Then bask in the most peaceful sleep of your life.
Crouching inside a larger-than-life-size topiary of Squilliam, Squidward surveyed the mansion. Gardeners milled around the grounds. Seahorses grazed in their paddock. How to get to his dressing room? The muscular moray was waxing Squilliam's limousine between a decorative fountain and the front entrance. Trying the front door is out, since I'd like to keep all of my limbs. Through the window in the side of the ground level tiki, he could see purple wallpaper and gold leaf trim. If that's the "drawing room," the master bedroom would be right above it. The current had been so nice that several of the upstairs windows were open, including the one in the side of the upper level tiki. It was his best hope.
Without a second thought, Squidward crept through the maze of coral hedges to the wall. He placed one foot on the cool stone, followed by another foot. Then, he reached as high as he could and pressed both palms onto the wall. Suction cup by suction cup, he crawled towards the open window. It wasn't long before his arms began to tire, and sweat made his tentacles slippery. He reached the long, rectangular ear of the ground level tiki. If I could just pull myself up there... I could sit... Tentacles attached to the top of the ear, Squidward fought to drag his body up, but his muscles were already tense, unable to work any harder. He scoured the wall for anything else he could grab or sit on, but this only allowed him to look down the side of the wall to see how far up he was. "Damn acrophobia," he cursed weakly, trembling. He had gone too far to give up, but his fear climbed faster than he could.
He moved one foot down to retreat to the sea floor when he heard a voice from below. "Leaving so soon, Squiddy? I was just enjoying the view." Against his better judgement, Squidward looked down to see Squilliam, arms folded as if contemplating a work of art. Squidward was too frightened to speak, but descended the wall as quickly as he could. "Maurice!" called Squilliam, clapping to gain his valet's attention. "Maurice, be a good chap and assist Mr. Tentacles, would you?" The moray reached up, grabbed the shuddering octopus by the collar, and held him up for Squilliam's consideration.
"I... I was... just..." Squidward stammered, struggling to regain the power of speech.
"Just trying to sneak into my bedroom? You are an eager one! But I'm not like that. I'm a gentleman, and I want to wine and dine you first." Raising a tentacle to his lips thoughtfully, Squilliam went on. "Unless you were trying to sneak in to steal your big film debut. But that would be so naughty." He gave Squidward's cheek a pinch that looked more playful than it felt.
Once free, Squidward rubbed his cheek. "No. Of course... not."
"Oh good. Besides, you'll never find it in my mansion."
Maurice gave Squidward a shake. "What do ya want I should do with him, Mr. Fancyson?"
Squilliam took a step closer. "Well, Squiddy? What do you say to an evening out... followed by a night in?"
Don't listen to him. He's out to get you like before.
Leaning in, Squilliam's voice was no louder than a breath. "Come on. Don't you want to finish what we started at the reef?"
That suggestion set fire to his central nervous system. Exactly like before.
When Squidward did not answer, Squilliam shrugged. "That's too bad, really." He pulled up the sleeve of his jacket to reveal his Carpier watch, and made sure that Squidward could see that it was genuine. "Time is of the essence. The tour begins before you know it. It could include you, or... not."
What is he playing at? Squidward tried to read the plan Squilliam was hiding behind those burgundy eyes. Looking into those eyes, there was no seeing past them. Does he mean it? Or is he planning to use me only to invite me on tour, show the video and see me booed off stage? He won't have the pleasure. "Today isn't good for me. I'm busy."
"I understand. The way you make that cash register sing is something very special! In that case, Maurice, you may escort my guest to his unskilled job."
"For your information, I will not be gracing the register with my presence today. I have some errands to run."
"When you finish those errands, let me know!" Squilliam snorted as Maurice placed Squidward in the back of the limousine. "On your way home, think of the ride as a sample of what I can offer you." He slammed the door before Squidward could respond.
As Maurice deftly curved the limo around the fountain to head towards the main road, he asked gruffly, "Where to? Conch Street, right?"
Squidward sighed, resting his chin on his tentacle and gazing out the window. The water was bright and crystalline, sun rays bouncing off every surface. The glass dome in the distance created exceptional reflections. "Actually," Squidward replied, "I have an errand to run at the treedome."