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Fiasco!

Patrick: (moans) Such a tired day at the office. Boy, am I famished. I sure wish I knew the best restaurant in Bikini Bottom. (Patrick's belly button morphs into a nose, and smells something) From where has this glorious scent come?
Squidward: Hark, the odor you seek is before you.
Mr. Krabs: (jumps out of the Krusty Krab, wearing a leotard) At the Krusty Krab, where the tastiest sandwich in the seas is grilled to perfection by our expert fry cook... (SpongeBob slides down a rainbow, holding his spatula) and served with a smile by our friendly waiter. (Squidward, riding a dolphin, brings a plate of Krabby Patties to Patrick. Patrick pours them in his mouth, and eats them happily)
SpongeBob: (narrating) Patrick gobbles down the patties. (imitates eating noises)
(cut to SpongeBob showing Mr. Krabs the latter scenes in a storyboard)
Mr. Krabs: Wait a minute. Why am I dressed in a leotard?
SpongeBob: Well, 'cause you're the mascot.
Mr. Krabs: Nah! I don't think so. (rips the entire storyboard apart) We need a gimmick that's nothing short of a masterpiece.
SpongeBob: Oh, I know! Win a date with Squidward Tuesday.
(Mr. Krabs places SpongeBob next to Squidward at the cash register boat. SpongeBob sighs constantly, sighing louder each time, annoying Squidward)
Squidward: Oh, for dolphins' sake! Do tell what's troubling you so.
SpongeBob: Mr. Krabs doesn't think my ideas are helping.
Squidward: Shocking.
SpongeBob: I just want to help him find the perfect Krabby Patty gimmick.
Squidward: Sounds like you'd better stop bothering me and put on your thinking cap.
SpongeBob: Great idea, Squidward. (runs off)
Squidward: That'll keep him out of my hair. (black smoke appears, and covers Squidward's face. SpongeBob is literally wearing a mechanical thinking cap) Of course. He actually has one.
(Fiasco is shown squirting ketchup on a plate of Krabby Patties. He picks them up and drops them on the table)
Squidward: To each, his own.
Fiasco: Mustard!
Squidward: Yes, your freakishness.
Fiasco: (squirts mustard all over the plate. Squidward sighs) Like our own fleeting existence, an untimely end has come upon this Krabby-valued meal. (wipes the plate a little. Leaves the Krusty Krab)
Squidward: Good riddance. (prepares to clean the table, and look at the plate) What's this? Something's familiar about those ketchup swirls. (gasps) Sweet Neptune! Could that have been...?
Mr. Krabs: Yeah, yeah. Enough dilly-dallying, and help me with the garbage, Mr. Squidward. (grabs the plate, and tries to throw it away)
Squidward: (takes it back) That's not garbage. It's a Fiasco!
Mr. Krabs: Okay, let's not overdo it.
Squidward: No, no, no. You don't get it. It's the work of Fiasco, the artist! He was featured in last month's Art Wonk Magazine!
Mr. Krabs: (chuckles) You call that art? Looks like a swabby's footlocker.
Squidward: 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.
SpongeBob: Oooh! What is this?
Squidward: This is an authentic Fiasco!
Customers: A Fiasco?
Customer #1: An original Fiasco, you say?
Billy: He's one of the famous picture-drawing artistes!
Nancy: Just look at his audacious use of pickle in this piece.
Customer #2: What's your asking price?
Squidward: Oh, it's simply not for sale. Not even for a million dollars.
Mr. Krabs: Hold it! I'll take million for it.
Squidward: It's not yours to sell! I found it!
Mr. Krabs: Me plate, me buns, me mustard, me Fiasco.
Squidward: You tried to throw it away. It's mine!
Farfel: 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. (takes the Fiasco, looks at it, and sniffs it. Gasps) It's authentic! Which makes this a national treasure! (the customers cheer) And, for preservation, it must be hermetically sealed... (blows whistle) and guarded by Bikini Bottom's finest. (three police rip off their customer costumes)
Police #1: Ready for duty, sir.
Mr. Krabs: Grat idea, Farkle. Gotta protect me valuable property.
Farfel: 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.
Mr. Krabs: Oh, so now you're a restaurant critic.
(a long line of customers is waiting to get a look at the Fiasco)
Mr. Krabs: Step up! Step up for your free glimpse at the Fiasco masterpiece. (two customers look at the Fiasco for a split-second) Alright, you're had your look. Now hold up your end of the bargain.
Customer #2: Two Krabby Patties, please.
Mr. Krabs: Each!
Plankton: (spying through a telescope from behind a rock) So, what have you got for me today, huh? No Krabby Patty in sight. (spots the Fiasco) What? What's this? Looks like a chewed up Krabby Patty. A perfect sample from which to rebirth engineer a whole Krabby Patty. Thanks, Eugene. You just made my job a whole lot easier.
(cut to Mr. Krabs counting and sniffing his money. He hears a lady scream in the dining room)
Mr. Krabs: I know that scream anywhere... it's me profits dying! (opens the door, and sees Plankton riding his unicycle out the Krusty Krab with the Fiasco in a bag) Stop that thief!
Plankton: Don't worry, Krabs. I'm just taking out the trash for ya.
Mr. Krabs: Stop, thief! (pushes the alarm button. A police car goes after Plankton)
Plankton: (laughing) That was almost too easy. Plankton, old boy, you are home-free! (the police car appears behind Plankton)
Police #1: Stop, thief!
Plankton: (screams. Rides unicycle faster) What's with the police? It's just a bag of garbage.
(The Police chase Plankton, and pass The Reef Cinema. Plankton sneaks inside the cinema, and sits in the movie theater)
Plankton: What's going on?
(on the screen. A boy and a girl a shown on an island)
Girl: How long do you think we'll be here?
Boy: I don't know. But, my stomach feels all tingly.
Girl: Mine does, too.
(they both begin to kiss. One of the police suddenly bursts through the cinema screen)
Police #2: Hey, you! Yeah, you in the chair.
Police #1: Don't move! (the other police bursts through the screen and chase Plankton out of the theater. Cut to a supermarket. The police search all over the market for Plankton, who is hiding in a bunch of flowers)
Plankton: (sneezes, giving away his location) Blasted pollen allergies. (Plankton runs out of the supermarket. Cut to outer space)
Plankton: (hiding inside a satellite, suspended in midair by lack of gravity) Ahhh... I should be safe in space. (the police appear, wearing spacesuits, and chase after Plankton)
Police #1: Stop, thief!
Plankton: You gotta be kidding me! (flees the police)
(cut to Plankton, exhausted, dragging the bag. He comes across Patrick's rock. Knocks on rock)
Plankton: Hello? Hello? Open up! Open up!
Patrick: Do you mind? Some of us have nothing to do tomorrow morning.
Plankton: Wait, what? (spots SpongeBob's house. Burst inside with a spoon in hand) Hey! Keep your hands where I can see them! (SpongeBob raises his arms) Okay, you two, against the wall! (SpongeBob and Gary back up against the wall) That's it. Nice and slow. You 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 Krab who chases me, not a bunch of cops. So, if you know what's going on, start talking or else you're gonna answer with the spoon. See?
SpongeBob: I can explain. That partially eaten Krabby Patty isn't just garbage. It's a work of art. It's worth a fortune.
Plankton: Really?
SpongeBob: So, you see why Mr. Krabs is trying to get it back.
Plankton: Interesting. It appears I've won more than I bargained for.
SpongeBob: Plankton, you've stolen a priceless work of art. There's only one thing you can do.
Plankton: You mean hold onto it until it's really worth something?
SpongeBob: No. You need to turn yourself in.
Plankton: "Turn myself in"-. What?! If I go down we all go down. You're harboring an art thief.
SpongeBob: Who's that?
Plankton: Me, you imbecile!
SpongeBob: What?
Plankton: And, not only that, but Gary's an accomplice, too!
Gary: Meow.
SpongeBob: Now you've gone too far!
Plankton: No. You have, criminal accomplice!
SpongeBob: I can't believe you're calling me that!
Plankton: Believe it, man-boy!
Patrick: (comes inside, eating something) Guys, what did I tell you before? I'm trying to get some shut-eye!
SpongeBob: Patrick, what are you eating?
Patrick: The hors d'oeuvres you left on the table. (the Fiasco on the plate has disappeared, meaning Patrick ate the Fiasco. SpongeBob and Plankton gasp. Burps.) Not bad.
SpongeBob: Now Patrick is harboring stolen merchandise in his belly!
Plankton: Oh, he's an accomplice, too.
Squidward: (bursts inside with the police) Here they are, officers. These idiots have been causing a ruckus, interrupting my beauty sleep.
Police #1: Well, well, well. If it isn't the art thief himself. Drop the spoon. (Plankton does so. Handcuffs Squidward) You're all under arrest until we can figure this out.
Squidward: "All"? What do you mean "all"? I'm not under arrest. These idiots... they're causing a ruckus... I-I want sleep!
(cut to the police station. Plankton is locked behind bars)
Police #1: Thanks for clearing this whole mess up, Mr. Krabs.
Mr. Krabs: Of course, officer. Can't let me fry cook rot in this place. It'll ruin me business... especially now that the Fiasco's finito. (starts to cry)
SpongeBob: Mr. Krabs, I think I have the solution.
(cut to the Krusty Krab. A long line of customers is shown)
Mr. Krabs: Thanks very much. Enjoy the show. You sure save the day, boyo.
SpongeBob: My pleasure, sir. And, I think Patrick likes it, too.
Patrick: (standing behind an X-ray to show the eaten Fiasco inside his belly. Giggles) X-rays tickle.
Fiasco: Such artistic genius. I'll never paint, again! (throws his paintings on the floor, and stomps on them)
Squidward: (in jail) And don't I get a phone call?
End