08x16 - Restraining SpongeBob/Fiasco!

[bunniefuu]

- Are you ready, kids?

Aye, aye, Captain!

- I can't hear you.

Aye, aye, Captain!

Spongebob Squarepants!

Spongebob Squarepants!

Spongebob Squarepants!

Spongebob Squarepants! - Ready?

Spongebob Squarepants!

Spongebob Squarepants!

Spongebob Squarepants!

- Spongebob

Squarepants!

- What the--

Spongebob, do you mind?

Aah!

- Oh, hey, Squidward. What you doing?

- What am I doing?

What are youdoing?

- I am sharpening my trusty spatula.

Speaking of which, are you gonna stick around

for morning fry cook calisthenics?

Cali-what?

Oh! Nyuh!

Walking to work, huh, Squidward? - Go away.

- Can I walk with you? - No.

- Please? - No.

- Please? - No.

- Please? - No.

- Please? - No.

- Please? - No.

- Please? - No.

- Please? - No.

- Please? - I...Said...No!

I will not walk to work with y--

- okay. Maybe tomorrow then.

- I'll have two krabby patties.

- Okay, and would you like cheese on--

- do you need a break or something?

- Huh? Oh, no!

No! That was not me.

I swear.

No, wait, really!

Spongebob!

It's empty! See, empty!

- Wow, Squidward, how'd you know that?

- Well, let's see.

Maybe 'cause I have a brain.

Squidward, the grill is on.

- Oh, really?

And do you think I Don't know that this grill is--

- I gotta do something!

- Okay, Squidward, this should help.

- What the--aah! Ooh-ooh-aah!

- Don't worry, Squidward. I'll catch you.

- Aah!

Uh, I can fix this.

This time I got you.

- Me soda machine.

- Squidward, can you hear me? How many fingers am i--

- no!

- Squidward? What's--

- Well, you really sent him over the edge this time, boy.

- Technically, I drove him up the wall.

- Oh, Spongebob, i've got a present for you.

- Present. P-present? For me?

- No, no, calm down.

I should have given this to you a long time ago.

- Wow, Squidward.

My very own "restraining order."

Uh, what is that?

- Perhaps my lawyers should explain.

- We are the law offices of Harry, combover, and bald--

specializing in restraining order-alogical law,

and here to tell one Mr. Squarepants

you've been served!

- Served? I Don't understand.

Squidward, what are these guys--

- per paragraph three of the restraining order,

you may no longer speak to our client.

Likewise, you may not come within feet of Mr. Squidward

at any time.

Any infractions of these statutes

will result in serious jail time.

- Can you make krabby patties for loyal krusty krab patrons

during "serious jail time"?

And.

No.

No! I Don't want to go!

- Well, then follow the guidelines we've explained,

and you won't have to.

- Uh, sirs, if I can't speak to

or get within feet of Squidward,

how will we get anything done around here?

That's not our problem.

There we go.

Three krabby patties, two large kelpy kolas,

and three fries, ready to be served.

- Let's-- oof!

- Oops!

Sorry about that, Mister Krabs.

It's just so hard to get this food to Squidward

without violating this restraining order.

- Let me see that.

Thank you.

Look, boy, I Don't know

what in coral caverns a restraining order is.

But I do know whatever's going on here clearly ain't working!

Now, I want this ship sailing smoothly--on the double!

Or i'll be forced to remove

more gold stars from your employee performance chart.

Think, Spongebob, think!

Oh, I got it!

- Oh, if I ignore it, maybe it will go away.

I thought not.

Okay, Patrick, what? What? What!

Notice anything...

Different?

A hint.

- Patrick!

I am not not paying you to stand around and play

"guess what the idiot's thinking"

with Squidward. Get back to work.

- Yeah, Patrick, get back to--what work?!

Oh, no. No, no, no.

Krabs. Mister Krabs?

- Why all the shivering of the timbers, Mr. Squidward?

- Mister Krabs, this will not stand.

- You'll stand.

Oh, unless you'd rather talk with Spongebob.

What?

- Can I watch you work?

- No. - Please?

- No. - Please?

- No. - Please?

- No.

- Please? - No.

- Pretty please? - No!

No, no, no!

Go away, Patrick.

Go away, Patrick.

Patrick.

Patrick. Patrick!

Patrick.

Patrick.

Patrick.

Patrick.

Patrick.

Mr. Squidward?

- Time for your break.

Don't mind if I do.

No better way to spend a break than with a little cool jazz.

- Hi, Squidward. - Hello...You.

- I just finished cleaning the restroom.

- Ooh, that's great.

- I mopped the floors, I shined the mirrors,

I scrubbed the sinks. - Wonderful.

- Oh, yeah, but we're gonna need a new toilet plunger.

This one's broken.

- Patrick!

- Nice work, Patrick.

Break time's over, Mr. Squidward.

- Welcome to the house of misery.

May I take your order?

- Yes, I would like two double fried kelp fritters,

three krusty krab cream-filled corals,

and four triple fatty krabby patties.

Is that too much?

- That depends. - On what?

- How long do you wanna live?

Oof!

Squidward's funny!

Hey, a button.

- Oh, grammy, I brought your favorite.

Seaberry pie.

- Yikes!

Seaberries.

I'm allergic to... seaberries.

That's it! I know what I must do.

Spongebob!

- You're the prettiest button i've ev--

monster!

Spongebob!

- It's after Spongebob!

You're right, button.

No monster's gonna eat our friend.

- Spongebo-- no!

No, no, no. Wait!

- Oh, no.

My two best friends are fighting.

But this restraining order says

I can't get close enough to break it off.

I'm sorry, restraining order, but my friends need me.

Stop!

- Give me that restraining order!

- All right, let's look at this.

- Squidward, please Don't send me to jail.

- Squidward?

Did you know the monster was Squidward?

Well, when were you gonna tell me?

- I violated the restraining order.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

- Quit bellyaching, and hand me a pen.

Here you go.

- Stop the waterworks! You are not going to jail.

- I'm not?

- No, i'm releasing you from this order.

- Really, Squidward?

- And adding someone who's much more deserving.

- Sorry, button.

- No, Patrick. You!

- Ugh, such a tired day at the office.

Boy, am I famished.

I sure wish I knew

the best restaurant in bikini bottom.

From where has this glorious scent come?

- Hark, the odor you seek is before you.

- At the krusty krab,

where the tastiest sandwich in the seas

is grilled to perfection by our expert fry cook

and served with a smile by our friendly waiter.

- Patrick gobbles down the patties...

- Wait a minute! Why am I dressed in a leotard?

- Oh, 'cause you're the mascot.

- Eh, I Don't think so.

We need a gimmick that's nothing short of a masterpiece.

- Oh, I know!

"Win a date with Squidward" Tuesdays.

Oh, for dolphin's sake.

Do tell what's troubling you so.

- Mister Krabs doesn't think my ideas are helping.

- Shocking.

- I just want to help him find

the perfect krabby Patty gimmick.

- Sounds like you'd better stop bothering me

and put on your thinking cap.

- Great idea, Squidward!

- That'll keep him out of my hair.

- Of course, he actually has one.

To each his own.

- Mustard! - Yes, your freakishness.

- Like our own fleeting existence,

an untimely end has come upon this krabby value meal.

- Good riddance.

What's this?

Something's familiar about those ketchup swirls.

Sweet Neptune!

Could that have been--

- yeah, yeah, enough dilly-dallying.

Now help me with the garbage, Mr. Squidward.

- That's not garbage. It's a fiasco.

- Okay, let's not overdo it.

- No, no, no, you Don't get it.

It's the work of fiasco, the artist.

He was featured in last month's art wonkmagazine.

- Heh, you call this art?

Looks like a swabby's footlocker.

- Oh, it all makes sense now.

The dark denim, the dismal statements,

the extensive use of red and yellow!

This is directly out of his early abstract experiments.

- Ooh, what is this? - This is an authentic fiasco.

A fiasco?

Ooh!

- An original fiasco, you say?

- He's one of the famous picture drawing "arteests."

- Just look at his audacious use of pickle in this piece.

- What's your asking price?

-Oh, it's simply not for sale, not even for $ million.

- Hold it! I'll take $ million for it.

- It's not yours to sell. I found it.

- Me plate, me buns, me mustard, me fiasco!

- You tried to throw it away! It's mine.

- Let's not be hasty.

It belongs to neither of you.

Farfel bainbridge, curator of the bikini bottom art museum.

We curators have a way of sniffing these things out.

It's authentic,

which makes this a national treasure!

And for preservation, it must be hermetically sealed.

And guarded by bikini bottom's finest.

- Ready for duty, sir. - Great idea, farkle.

Gotta protect me valuable property.

- Well, technically, it doesn't belong to you.

It belongs to the people of bikini bottom.

Unfortunately, they'll have to set foot in this grease trap

to get a look at this great piece of art.

- Oh, so now you're a restaurant critic.

Step up, step up,

for your free glimpse at the fiasco masterpiece.

All right, you've had your look.

Now hold up your end of the bargain.

- Two krabby patties please. - Each!

- So what have you got for me today, huh?

No krabby Patty in sight...

Wha--what's this?

Looks like a chewed-up krabby Patty...

A perfect sample from which to reverse engineer

a whole krabby Patty!

Thanks, Eugene.

You just made my job a whole lot easier.

- I'd know that scream anywhere! It's me profits dying!

Stop that thief!

- Don't worry, krabs,

i'm just taking out the trash for you.

- Stop! Thief!

That was almost too easy.

Plankton, old boy, you're home free.

- Stop, thief! - Aah!

What's with the police? It's just a bag of garbage!

What's going on?

- How long do you think we'll be here?

- I Don't know, but... my stomach feels all tingly.

- Mine does too.

- Hey, you! Yeah, you in the chair.

Don't move!

Blasted pollen allergies!

I should be safe in space.

- Stop, thief!

- You've got to be kidding me!

Hello? Hello?

Open up, open up!

- Do you mind?

Some of us have nothing to do tomorrow morning.

- Wait, what?

Hey, keep your hands where I can see them.

Okay, you two, against the wall.

That's it, nice and slow.

You've gotta help me!

Ever since I left the krusty krab,

i've had all kinds of heat on me.

It's so bizarre!

Normally, when I steal something from the krusty krab,

it's krabs who chases me, not a bunch of cops!

So if you know what's going on, start talking,

or else you're gonna answer to the spoon, see?

- I can explain.

That partially eaten krabby Patty isn't just garbage.

It's a work of art. It's worth a fortune.

- Really?

- So you see why Mister Krabs is trying to get it back.

- Interesting.

It appears i've won more than I bargained for.

- Plankton, you've stolen a priceless work of art.

There's only one thing you can do.

- You mean hold onto it until it's really worth something?

- No, you need to turn yourself in.

- Turn myself-- what?

If I go down, we all go down.

You're harboring an art thief! - Who's that?

- Me, you imbecile. - What?

Not only that,

you're an accomplice to the crime, yeah.

- Really?

- And not only that, but Gary's an accomplice too!

- Now you've gone too far!

- No, you have, criminal accomplice!

- I can't believe you're calling me that.

- Believe it, man-boy. - Hey!

What did I tell you before?

I'm trying to get some shut-eye.

- Patrick... what are you eating?

- Those hors d'oeuvres you left on the table.

Not bad.

- Now Patrick is harboring stolen merchandise in his belly!

- Oh, he's an accomplice too!

- Here they are, officers.

These idiots have been causing a ruckus,

interrupting my beauty sleep.

- Well, well, well,

if it isn't the art thief himself.

Drop the spoon.

- You're all under arrest until we figure this out.

- What--what do you mean, "all"?

I'm not under arrest. I-i--these are idiots!

They're causing a ruckus. I want sleep.

- Thanks for clearing this whole mess up, Mister Krabs.

- Of course, officer.

Heh, can't let me fry cook rot in this place.

It'd ruin me business!

Especially now that the fiasco's finito'd.

Mister Krabs, I think I have the solution.

- Thanks very much. Enjoy the show.

You sure saved the day, boyo.

- My pleasure, sir.

And I think Patrick likes it too.

Ooh! Ahh.

X-rays tickle.

- Such artistic genius.

I'll never paint again!

- Hey, Don't I get a phone call?