This fic was inspired by the SpongeBob's 20th anniversary special. I loved the live-action part, but I felt it was too short. The episode was still good though. Anyway, I hope you like the story. I might make a second part with the remaining letters of the alphabet. By the way, these are the names used in the episode for the live action counterparts:

SpongeBob- JimBob

Mr. Krabs - Mr. Slabs

Squidward- Mr. Manward

Plankton- Mr. Charleston

The Krusty Krab- The Trusty Slab

Karen, Patrick and Sandy have the same names.

Thanks for reading!

Assignment

"JimBob!"

"Yes sir!"

"Put down your hand, boy. This isn't the army." Mr. Slabs folded his arms as JimBob's smile faded. "And you should be thankful about that, because you wouldn't have lasted a day in it! And you won't last a day more in me restaurant unless you explain this moment why you were giving our Slabby Patties for free!"

"Sir, I was just doing what you told me." JimBob shrugged.

"I don't recall telling you to make me business go bankrupt, boy."

"You said my only assignment was to make sure all costumers left satisfied and with a big smile on their faces. And I can tell you they all did. One of them even kissed me in the cheek. Oh, Sandy…" JimBob said dreamily as he caressed the lipstick mark on his cheek.

Mr. Slabs rolled his eyes.

"I knew I should have hired that Bobby Bass guy instead." He sighed while JimBob continued to daydream and babble about that Sandy girl. "This is what I get for not asking for references."

Basket

"Oh no, you can't be serious. Please tell me you won't call it that."

"Quiet, long-distance wife! The Crumb Basket is a perfect name for our restaurant."

"Of course, said no one ever."

"Said everyone always." Charleston made a long pause, his hands firmly pressing his headphones against his ears. "Besides, I've already paid for it to be a trademark, so…"

"I can't believe I actually lent you all my lifesavings to open that fiasco."

"Have a little faith, Karen. Our business will be a great success. It's not as if Slabs named his restaurant any better. The Trusty Slab… sounds like cheap adult film. Trust me, those morons from the gorilla mask company will love our crumbs!"

"What even are crumbs in the first place? I didn't get it when you explained it to me last week."

"It's a family recipe." Charleston put the microphone from his headphones closer to his lips and whispered. "I could explain it better if we, you know, met in person."

"Oh." Karen said. "Do we have to? I mean, we are already married."

"Yeah, but it would be nice to see your face at least once. Sometimes I feel like I'm married to these headphones instead of you."

"I could say the same thing." Karen replied, a little nervous. "It's not as if I knew what you look like either, you know."

"Long distance marriages are weird." Charleston said.

"Remember our wedding? I love the avatar you chose to show on your screen."

"Yours looked beautiful too, honey. When our screens touched after the priest said we could kiss each other, it was the best moment of my life."

"Oh, Charleston…"

"Oh, Karen…"

"The Crumb Basket is still a stupid name, though."

"Wow." Charleston said, loosening his grip on his headphones. "Mood killer much?"

Couple

"Manward!"

"Heavens, JimBob!" Manward complained after JimBob hugged him from behind. The fry cook was crying in his shoulder, soaking it with his tears. "Get off me and get back into the kitchen, you idiot. If Mr. Slabs sees you here, he'll fire you! …On second thought, you can stay here all the time you want."

"I saw her!" JimBob cried. "Talking with that pirate guy, Thatchy! They are a couple!"

"It's Patchy, fool." Manward returned his attention to the newspaper. "And stop crying! He only asked her the time."

JimBob's tears stopped flowing in an instant. "Really?"

"Yes."

JimBob rubbed his eyes and started laughing. Manward had to restrain himself from ripping the newspaper into half.

"And here I thought he had proposed to her!" JimBob gave Manward a slap in the back. "This means I still have a chance with Sandy. Manward, do you think you could cover for me tomorrow? If I'm lucky, I'll be going on a date."

"No."

"Thanks! You are a good friend."

JimBob returned to the kitchen. He was mumbling his options of the places he could invite Sandy to.

"Dammit." Manward quickly skimmed through the newspaper's pages until he found the employment section. "I knew I should have gone to college."

Dinner

"JimBob, I want to thank you for inviting me on a date. I´m having a great time."

"I'm happy to hear that, Sandy. Thank you for accepting to go out with me."

"Just one thing." Sandy pointed at the big fellow with bed hair sitting next to JimBob. He was engulfing chicken wings faster than he could chew them. "Why did Patrick come too?"

JimBob smiled and put an arm around Patrick's shoulders. "Oh, he loves chicken wings. He's been a regular to the Trusty Slab's Chicken Wing Wednesdays Nights since we opened."

Sandy tilted her head. "That doesn't really answer my question…"

She was interrupted by Mr. Slabs' voice.

"Alright, wing lovers. It's time to see who can make an art out of eating chicken wings. Tonight's winner will receive…"

"The Secret Sauce Recipe!"

"Exactly! Wait, Charleston?"

"Uh-oh."

The wimpy guy dressed completely in green started running as Mr. Slabs went after him with a broom in hand. "How many times must I tell you to stay out of me restaurant?!"

Well. Sandy thought as JimBob laughed at the sight of his boss chasing after his nemesis. At least he's having fun, and I am too. But next time, JimBob, please don't bring Patrick. Or if you must, please teach him how to use a napkin first…

Eye.

Hi, this is Karen. If you're hearing this, I can't answer your call because I'm either too busy or because quite frankly I don't want to talk to you because a) you´re boring, b) you're stupid, or c) both. Please leave your message and don't expect a quick answer. I have a life, you know.

"Karen, it's me, your long-distance husband. I love your voice mail message. You wouldn't mind if I copy it, would you?" Charleston said with love. "Anyway, I just wanted to tell you that I received your gift. Cool glasses! I'm wearing them right now. They must have costed a fortune. Or at least five bucks…"

Charleston laughed. His vision was so blurry he was starting to get dizzy. It was a habit of Karen's to send him new glasses once every three months.

When I told you I had vision problems, this isn't exactly what I meant. He thought, wishing to have the courage to tell his long-distance wife about his only eye. I can't do that! What if she doesn't like me anymore? It's not as if she has to know… and I like these glasses she sends me, even if they are as useful to me as a sweater in summer!

"By the way, our business is doing great! I told you The Crumb Basket would be a hit."

How many lies could he tell in one phone call?

Two, apparently.

"It's not lying if you do it with good intentions, right?" he laughed. "Wait, did I just say that out loud?"

Voice Message saved.

"Oh, shi—"

French

"…and does he live in a pineapple under the sea?

"Oui, mon ami."

"Wow, that's adorable."

"He is one lively sponge. A little silly and nerve wrecking, but noble and kind. He reminds me of you, JimBob."

"Thanks, Frenchy."

Manward rolled his eyes as the other two men continued to talk on a nearby table. "At least the nerve wrecking part is accurate." He said under his breath, followed by a snorty chuckle.

"There's also this octopus. Conceited, bitter, very practical, and yet artistic like no other." Frenchy looked at Manward. His face was concealed by his big diving helmet "Does he remind you of anyone, Manward?"

"I—I'm not artistic! What gave you that idea?" Manward hid his colored face behind the newspaper. "And I´m not bitter!"

"I never said you were." Frenchy and JimBob laughed.

"Don't you have somewhere else to be?" Manward snapped at Frenchy.

"Mon Dieu, you´re right. I better get back to work. Those sea creatures don't study themselves, you know." He stood up and stretched. "Thanks for the food, gentlemen. I'll be back tomorrow. By the way, would you like a picture of your sea creature counterparts?"

"Yes!"

"No."

"Alright! I'll give them to you tomorrow. Au revoir." Frenchy went to the exit, where he almost crashed against Mr. Slabs. "Sorry, Mr. Krabs."

"What did you call me?" Mr. Slabs arched an eyebrow.

"Oh, that's just the French word for very dashing fellow." Frenchy said awkwardly. "Bye now!"

With that, he went running down the street at an amazing speed.

"I don't know French, but I don't think that's what Krabs means in that language…" Said Mr. Slabs.

"And I don't know how Frenchy can run so fast with that suit on. It must weight a ton!" Added JimBob as he watched how Frenchy disappeared into the distance.

"And I don't know what Frenchy smokes in order to come up with such stupid ideas, but I sure wish I had some of that for myself." Sighed Manward, now reading the newspaper's comic strips. "Intelligent creatures under the sea? A sponge that lives in a pineapple? An octopus that plays the clarinet? Please," he then said in a low voice that only he could hear ", everyone knows the tuba is a much more artistic instrument."

Girlfriend

"Yes."

"I knew it. Can we at least still be friends—wait, you said yes?"

"I just did, JimBob."

JimBob's eyes gleamed with happiness. He started to jump and dance around Sandy, leaving dozes of footprints on the sand below them. "I have a girlfriend, I have a girlfriend, I have a girlfriend!"

"Okay, calm down JimBob." Sandy said, a little embarrassed by all the attention his new boyfriend was attracting toward them. Some of the beachgoers smiled and congratulated them. Sandy smiled back at them, a little mortified but also happy.

"I always knew you were made for each other." Said Patchy dreamily. He was sitting on a towel together with his parrot Potty.

"Thanks." Said Sandy. He good humor wavered when she noticed the cellphone on Patchy's hand "Wait, are you recording us?"

"Only a little."

"Stop that, it's creepy."

"Does that mean I can't share it on the internet?" asked a man recording them from a close by submarine.

"Frenchy, you too?" Now enraged, Sandy put on her karate gloves. "I guess I'll have to teach you two creepers a lesson!"

"Oh barnacles." Muttered Patchy just before Sandy tackled him.

"Oui," said a scared Frenchy as he got back into his submarine and started the engine "time for me to go on a travel of twenty thousand leagues under the sea. Rock Bottom, here I come!"

The submarine disappeared under the sea's surface. Meanwhile, JimBob continued to jump and dance. He was too immersed in his joy to notice how his new girlfriend was kicking Patchy's pirate butt with her special karate chops.

Home

He heard something. He was sure it wasn't his imagination.

"Hello?" JimBob asked over his shoulder. "Listen, if you want to sell me something, I'm not interested."

"Dammit, I told you he wasn't interested." Said a man in a suit that came out from behind a trash can.

"Shut up and let's get out of here before he sues us for stalking him." Said another man to his colleague. They were gone before JimBob could ask them anything.

"Well, that takes care of it." Shrugged JimBob. He began whistling happily as he continued his way back to his home. He had only taken two steps when he heard the same noise again. "Enough! If you don't stop following me, I'll tell my girlfriend to kick both of your—"

The two sellers weren't there.

Instead, there was a tinny kitten. Its eyes were barely opened, and it had crashed against the trash can in a failed attempt to catch up with JimBob.

His heart shrunk on his chest.

"Come here, little guy." JimBob said as he picked the kitten and gently put him on his forearm. "For how long have you been following me? Where's your mom?"

The kitten mewed faintly.

JimBob searched, but there were no more animals around. He knew exactly what he had to do.

"Let's get you to the vet." He said to the kitten. "And then let's get you to your new home. My beloved pet. My Gary."

Ice cream

"And how much for a pie?"

"Two dollars."

"That's too expensive. And how much for a brownie?"

"Two dollars."

"Now that's a more reasonable price. And how much for a—"

"Patrick, I'm going to tell you again what I tell you every Friday." Manward's veins palpitated on his forehead. "All desserts cost two dollars today. It's Sweet Two Dollar Friday, you moron!"

Patrick stared at Manward blankly and winked.

"Ah, " he snapped his fingers "I get it now."

"Good. Now let's try this again. What do you want to buy?" Manward gave him the fakest smile of his life.

"I'll like one cup of vanilla ice cream, please."

"That would be two dollars."

"Two dollars?" Patrick said, very offended. "What a ripoff!"

Something inside Manward broke. He screamed so loudly that even Charleston could hear him in the Crumb Basket while Karen was giving him an earful for lying to her about their restaurant being a success.

His scream even reached Frenchy, who was having a good time together with the weird creatures of Rock Bottom.

In the end, Manward's scream was so legendary that Mr. Slabs ended up renaming Sweet Two Dollar Friday in its honor, and was from then on known as "I Scream for Ice Cream Friday."

Jail

Hi, this is Karen. If you're hearing this, I can't answer your call because I'm either too busy or because quite frankly I don't want to talk to you because you are Charleston, my idiot long-distance husband. I'm still angry with you, you little liar. Don't leave me a message until you are honestly sorry for what you did. In other words, don't leave me a message ever again. By the way, I sent you another pair of glasses. Hope you like them. You twit.

"Karen, it's me. The twit." Charleston said with sharp sarcasm. "So this is the fourth message I've left you ever since I moved into my new…residence."

Charleston smiled at the guard staring at him. The officer didn't smile back.

"I've been here for a month now. How was I supposed to know that pointing a laser gun at civilians was such a serious crime? Society these days is too sensitive, I tell you. Anyway sweetie, I know you are angry with me for lying about The Crumb Basket, but you can't just leave me to rot here. Come on, sugar lips, you've got to help me. I don't really have anyone else…well, I do have my cousin Clem, but he is a fool."

"Okay Charleston, time's up." Said the officer as he walked toward him.

"Whatever, you idiot." Charleston muttered with disdain. "Well Karen, I'll call you again next week, that's how it works here in jail. I'd call you more often, but the brutes took away the headphones you gave to me. I swear I'm gonna blow this place to pieces if they have done anything to them!"

Charleston was forced to end his phone call when the guard hung up the phone and dragged him back to his cell.

"Oh boy." Charleston sighed, sitting on his uncomfortable bed. "Might as well get used to this life. It's not as if I'm getting out any time soon."

"Charleston!" another guard exclaimed as he threw a small package at his chest. "Someone sent this to you. Hard to believe even scum like you has loved ones."

"Well," Charleston said as he opened his package and the guard walked away ", that last part was unnecessary. Who could send me this? This better not be another one of your root beers, Clem."

He gasped when he discovered it wasn't one of his cousin's stupid gifts. Inside the package there was a new, shining pair of glasses. And not just any pair of glasses.

"The Invisibility Spectacles 3000!" Charleston gasped. "I thought they were banned by the government! Oh Karen, you never stop surprising me."

He laughed evilly as he put them on and waited for the guards to notice his absence and open his cell. He took the opportunity to sneak out of jail and back to the outside world.

Before he left, he searched for his headphones, and was happy to see they were undamaged.

"Yes, yes!" He said as he put them on. "I feel complete again! Watch out Slabs, because here I come!"

The officers didn't need to see Charleston to notice his presence. His screams and laughter were more than enough.

"Shouldn't we go after him?" asked the officer who had watched Charleston during his phone call to the officer who had delivered Charleston his package.

"And miss I Scream for Ice Cream Friday at The Trusty Slab?" he smiled at his colleague. "Not in a million years, friend."

Kinship

"I can't get over the fact of how cute Gary's counterpart is." JimBob was almost crying by looking at the photo of the little snail with the pink shell. "He is almost as adorable as my own Gary! That SpongeBob guy and I have the same taste not only in clothes, but also in pets."

"This girl sure knows her stuff." Sandy said happily, holding a photo of a Squirrel wearing an astronaut suit and working on a jet pack, her latest science project. "And you say she is from Texas just like me, Frenchy?"

"Oui. And she is very proud and sensitive about it." Frenchy said. "Ah, I remember the day she beat the barnacles out of her friends for mocking Texas right in front of her face. Hilarious."

"Sounds like she is as sweet and peaceful as you, Cheeks." Manward said with mockery.

"She just has a temper." Sandy looked at him. "Just like your octopus Squidward."

"He is not my octopus. I honestly can't see why everyone thinks him and me are so alike. We have nothing in common."

"Let's see… You both are cashiers." Said Sandy.

"You are both handsome as heck." Added JimBob, which earned him a perplexed look from his girlfriend.

"True." Said Manward smugly.

"You are both grumpy." Continued Frenchy.

"You hate your jobs." Said Mr. Slabs, who until then had been totally focused on laughing at the photo of the famous Mr. Krabs. "I mean, it's obvious."

"You two are bald and have big noses."

"What? I'm not bald, and my nose is beautiful!" Manward said, touching his nose as if it was a piece of art crafted by the angels themselves. "Wait, what the hell are you doing here, Charleston? Weren't you in jail?"

"I was. Not anymore." Charleston said, taking off the Invisibility Spectacles 3000. "Those things were making me dizzy."

"Get out of here, you're ruining the moment with your idiotic attempt at stealing me recipe." Mr. Slabs ordered him.

"I don't care about your recipe!" Charleston said. He was gazing at the picture of a tiny green guy with one eye. "Who is this dashing devil? Is he… my sea creature counterpart?"

"Oui. His name is Plankton. Owner of the not so popular restaurant the Chum Bucket. Evil, and full of hot gas. Kind of pathetic too." Explained Frenchy.

"Like two peas in a pod." Said Mr. Slabs with cruelty, but instead of being angry or insulted, Charleston was fascinated.

"And who is the computer dancing with him?"

"Ah, that's Karen. His computer wife."

"Her name is Karen! Adorable!" Charleston snapped the picture from Frenchy's hand and pushed him out of his way. "So long, fools! I have to show these pictures to my wife. She'll love them so much she'll have to forgive me."

He ran off toward his deserted restaurant, laughing like a maniac.

"Charleston has a wife?" Asked Sandy.

"Yeah right, in his imagination." Scoffed Mr. Slabs after helping Frenchy back on his feet. "But forget about that fool. So Frenchy, can I keep this picture? I'm thinking about making Mr. Krabs the new mascot of The Trusty Slab! Kids love that kind of stuff, and where there are kids, there are parents with their pockets full of money!"

"Sure." Frenchy said, a bit unconvinced. "It's against my contract, but since you all loved them so much, you can keep them. Only with one condition, if I get fired, will you hire me?"

"Of course!" Said . "After all, we are going to need someone to wander around town wearing a Mr. Krabs' motley very soon."

"I have made a terrible mistake." Said Frenchy.

"Yes you have, buddy." Said Manward pretending to throw away Squidward's picture, but secretly putting it away on the pocket of his shirt. "Yes you have."

Lazy

Patrick laughed after watching how another man got hit in the nuts with a coconut.

"I love this show!" He took another sip of his drink. He engulfed a handful of chipotle chips and stared at the television with his eyes half-closed. "Was there something I had to do today? Something about Frenchy showing us some photos or something?"

He tried to remember, but it was too much effort.

Even if he had tried for real, he would have become distracted by the man getting hit in the lower parts, this time with two coconuts.

"Whatever." Patrick shrugged. "I'll think about it tomorrow. Wait, think about what? I forgot."

Message

Charleston committed photoception and took a photo of the photo of the little plankton and the computer.

He sent it to Karen with a message that read,

This could be us, but you are still angry with me. PS, her name is Karen too!

He expected an immediate response. After all, how could anyone ignore a photo so cute?

After three hours of total silence, the answer to that question became clear. Her long-distance wife, that's who.

He tried to call her using his headphones, only to be received by her sarcastic voice mail message again.

He sighed and ended the call without leaving a new message.

"Looks like my long-distance wife is about to become my long-distance ex-wife." He sobbed, hiding his only eye behind his arms. "How do long-distance divorces work anyway? I hope they aren't too expensive…"

Suddenly, he received a call.

His heart skipped a beat.

He answered the call, pressing his headphones to his ears closer than ever.

"They could be us," Karen said to him before Charleston could mutter a word, "but you are a complete fool. And so am I, apparently. I just called you, didn't I? So in the end, I guess they really are us."

Charleston couldn't speak and began to cry uncontrollably.

"KAREN! I thought you were never going to call me again!" he said in between sobs.

"What can I say? I have a tender heart, it's my main weakness." Karen answered without malice. "Besides, I can't let you handle The Crumb Basket all by yourself again. See, this last month gave me plenty of time to think about this whole situation, and I realized that I didn't really help you manage it at all. In a way, it's also my fault the place is such a failure. I'm sorry I wasn't as committed to it as I should have been."

"Does that…does that mean you'll come to live together with me?" Said Charleston, half excited, half scared. He and Karen had never looked at each other's faces. Their reunion was something he wasn't ready for.

"No." Answered Karen. "However, I'll try to call you more frequently, and answer your calls whenever you call me. I'll also be here whenever you go and try to steal Slab's secret sauce recipe. I'll be the rational voice inside your mind that you so obviously lack."

"It will be just like our first dates together." Said Charleston with nostalgia.

"In a way, yes." Karen chuckled. "Well then, let's try our best to make The Crumb Basket the best restaurant in town!"

"Yes, ma'am!" Charleston exclaimed. As it always happened whenever he felt extremely happy, he had a fit of evil laughter.

This time, Karen joined him.

New Day

"STOP RIGHT THERE, YOU STINKY THIEF!"

"Karen, he's right behind me! What do I do?"

"Use the jet pack I sent you yesterday."

"Of course, I'm a genius!" Charleston went flying into the air as an annoyed Karen grunted on his headphones.

"Look, a bird." Said Patrick, pointing at Charleston with one hand and holding a cup of vanilla ice cream with the other.

"No, that's a plane." Said JimBob enjoying his fifteen-minute break in company of his best friend and girlfriend.

"No, it's just Charleston." Said Sandy. "Do you guys think he has realized he forgot to take the Secret Sauce Recipe before running away like a chicken?"

"Judging by the face he is making, he just has." JimBob laughed as he watched how Charleston closed his eyes and put his hands on his headphones, as if a loud voice was piercing his ears. "I don't think Mr. Slabs has realized it neither."

"And don't you dare tell him, JimBob." Manward told him as prepared himself to exit The Trusty Slab. "If the boss isn't around, that means I can go home early. So long fools, I have date with an instrument named tuba…I mean, a woman named Luca. I mean… bye!"

"Goodbye Manward. Good luck with Luca!" JimBob said, waving his hand.

Frenchy looked at the chaotic scene and smiled, his face now concealed by the mask of Mr. Krabs ' motley.

Sure, he no longer was able to watch his dear friends from Bikini Bottom due to his boss firing him over handing over the photos without his permission, but that was alright.

His firing was only temporary. His lawyer was making sure of that.

And in the meantime, he had his friends from the surface, and they were no less entertaining or interesting than his sea creature counterparts.