Thank Neptune that's over.

It was the end of a long day of work at the Krusty Krab. Squidward, as per usual, was abused by both the customers and management. But the worst of it all was that putrid sponge. His constant laughing; his bottomless effervescence; his grating voice – it was enough to drive someone to madness.

Usually after a twelve hour shift Squidward would go right home, slipping into his night gown and reading a relaxing book in his bed, a nice mug of warm milk by his bed side to soothe him to sleep. But tonight was different. He decided earlier in the day that he would treat himself to a late-night movie to reward himself for his labor. No one else appreciates me, so I just have to appreciate myself.

Squidward whistled a jaunty tune while he walked to the theater at a leisurely pace. It was a gorgeous summer night. The stars in the sky were as bright as flares and the temperature was perfect, a nice breeze complimenting the ambient summer noises.

He arrived at the theater ten minutes early, just enough time to get his snacks and find the perfect seat. He settled in near the back of the auditorium, letting out a relaxed sigh as he started to munch his pop-kelp, reminding himself to save some for the movie.

But as the rest of the movie-goers began to crowd the theater, Squidward suddenly became extremely aware of himself. Anxiously, he noticed that he was the only one in the theater all by his lonesome. He saw dates kissing and holding hands, friends laughing and making small-talk, and families having a fun night out. As the film started, Squidward began to feel eyes bore into him, judging him for his utter aloneness. Needless to say, he couldn't enjoy the movie.

Squidward arrived at his house extremely late. Tiredly, he walked upstairs to his bedchamber, scolding himself for his stupid idea. Going to a late night movie on a weekday – What was I thinking? I have work tomorrow and now I'll never be able to get enough sleep. And he was right. He didn't get enough sleep. He was too busy thinking about his crushing loneliness and absolute depression. He thought about how he had no friends, and those who tried to be close to him were pushed away by his insecurities. He thought relentlessly about how he would never be happy.

A loud, asinine laughter awoke him before his alarm did. It was the early hours of the morning, and already SpongeBob was up and about, determined to let the world know that he was ready. Squidward, frustrated, grabbed his pillow and pulled it over his head, trying to shut out the noise. He had probably only gotten about an hours sleep last night, and he had work in two hours. If only he could squeeze one more hour in…

There was a knock at his door. Squidward already knew who it was, and felt the anger welling up inside of him. The knocks kept coming. Finally, Squidward threw off his bedsheets and stomped towards the window, pushing it open and shouting, "What do you want you barnacle-head?"

SpongeBob looked up at Squidward, and replied, "Hey Squidward! Wanna go jellyfishing before work?"

"Why in Neptune's name would I want to go jellyfishing with a pea-brain like you?"

SpongeBob shrugged. "Well, alright Squidward, suit yourself." He skipped away happily, laughing and singing along to his footsteps. Squidward watched him leave, and then crawled back into his bed with a tinge of guilt. Maybe I should've gone with him. Instead of sitting here feeling sorry for myself. Instead of wallowing in my loneliness and sadness. It was after this reflection that Squidward promised himself that he would be more social. This was the dawn of a new day – the dawn of a new Squidward.

Squidward arrived at the Krusty Krab, determined to be his new, friendly self. As he got set up at the cash register, he heard SpongeBob laughing in the kitchen. Squidward turned around and saw him flipping patties merrily. How on Earth can someone be so happy?

"H-hey Sp-SpongeBob," Squidward irked out meekly.

SpongeBob looked at Squidward happily. "Yeah Squiddy?" he replied, a big, stupid smile on his face.

"I, uh… I was wondering if maybe you would like to come over for dinner tonight." Squidward stared at SpongeBob, waiting for a response. After a moment, Squidward added shyly, "Or, you know, tomorrow. Or some other time. Just… whenever you feel like it."

SpongeBob laughed. "Jeez, I'd love to Squidward!" SpongeBob shouted merrily in reply. "I always knew you'd warm up to me! This is gonna be great!"

Squidward rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a shy giggle. "Y-yeah, it sure is! Well, I guess I'll see you tonight. How does seven o' clock sound?"

"I'll be there, pal!"

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Right after work, Squidward had sprinted to the grocery store to stock up on gourmet ingredients for his lavish meal he had planned. Never before had he felt so excited, so social, so alive. Finally, he had a friend, someone he could confide in, laugh with, and have fun with. Why did I push him away for so long? Why did I push everyone away for so long?

Squidward spared no expense gathering the ingredients. He wanted to impress SpongeBob with his cooking skills and he was determined to be the best host he could be. Everything was shaping up to be one of the best nights of his life.

The clock struck seven, and as if on cue, there was a knock at Squidward's door. Squidward happily rushed towards the door, swinging it open excitedly. "Welcome SpongeBob! Come on in, don't be shy!" he exclaimed. SpongeBob laughed happily and walked inside.

"Boy Squidward, you've really spruced up the place. Were you expecting someone or something?" They both laughed heartily, Squidward as happy as a clam. Squidward went to the stove to put the finishing touches on dinner.

"Alright SpongeBob, bon appétit!" Squidward put a fresh bowl of soup in front of SpongeBob. Squidward sat down with his own bowl and dug right in, savoring every spoonful. Before he knew it, he was done with his first bowl. As he went to pour himself another, he noticed that SpongeBob was staring at his bowl, confused.

"W-what's wrong, SpongeBob?" Squidward asked, praying to Neptune that everything was alright, hoping he didn't screw everything up.

"Nothing it's just…" SpongeBob began, noticeably frustrated. "Well, I thought you knew I was allergic to urchins, right?"

Squidward felt as though someone stabbed him right in his stomach. He slaved all day over that expensive urchin soup, and SpongeBob was allergic. What a waste. Squidward felt both angry and saddened, but also desperate to salvage the night.

"I mean," SpongeBob began. "Seventeen years of knowing each other, and somehow you don't know I'm allergic to urchins?"

"I-I'm sorry, I—"

"No, it's fine Squidward," SpongeBob said with a meek smile on his face, obviously fighting disappointment. "Really, it's fine."

Squidward's mind began racing, thinking of things he could do to entertain SpongeBob, to try and save his first attempt at being friendly. Suddenly, Squidward got a brilliant idea. He shot out of his seat, running upstairs to his art room. Quickly, he grabbed his clarinet and rushed back downstairs. A little bit of music was sure to lighten the mood.

"Any requests, SpongeBob?" Squidward asked anxiously. SpongeBob opened his mouth to reply, but was immediately cut off by Squidward blaring his clarinet right into his ear. SpongeBob, startled, reeled back and covered his ears. Squidward stopped and let out a laugh, but stopped when he realized SpongeBob wasn't laughing with him.

"Oh come on, it's funny!" Squidward said desperately, wanting SpongeBob to laugh. You're screwing everything up. You've ruined everything. He hates you now. Everyone hates you now. Squidward began to sweat profusely, his mind racing. "It's… It-it's funny, right?" SpongeBob warily looked around the room, obviously trying to find an excuse to leave. Little yellow bastard. Annoying me all these years and now he thinks I'm weird. I'm the one who's crazy?

"SpongeBob," Squidward said. "We're having fun." He walked over to SpongeBob, who was beginning to look startled from more than just the clarinet prank. "You are having fun, right SpongeBob?"

"Uh, Squidward, I think maybe it's time for me to go—"

"Go? No, stay," Squidward put his tentacle on SpongeBob's shoulder, keeping him in his seat. "We're having fun, right?"

"Look, I gotta go feed Gary, I have to –"

"No, stay," Squidward replied, this time pushing SpongeBob down into his seat. "Stay, relax, we're just having fun you and me," Squidward smiled eerily. "When's the last time we've been together like this, huh Sponge?"

"Uh, I don't know Squidward… It's been a while, I guess."

"So why are you in such a hurry to leave? We're just having some fun, right?"

"Squidward, you're beginning to sca-"

Squidward pushed him down harder into his seat. "What? Am I beginning to scare you? Scare you?"

"Y-yes," SpongeBob said, struggling to get out of his seat. "Come on Squidward, this isn't funny anymore."

"I'm not trying to be funny. I'm trying to be fun – we're just trying to have fun, right?"

"Y-yeah, right." SpongeBob replied, sweat pouring down his face, terror welling up inside of him.

"So why are you trying to leave when we're just starting to have some fun?"

"I told you, I need to feed Gary!" SpongeBob shouted, wrestling against Squidward's hold. He finally broke free and started to march towards the door. "I'm leaving Squidward, I'm done!"

"No you're not!" Squidward yelled back at him.

"Try and stop me!" SpongeBob reached for the doorknob at the exact moment Squidward reached for the breadknife on the counter.

"Fucking stay!" Squidward shouted as he sliced SpongeBob's hand clean off as it gripped the doorknob. Red blood shot out in arcs as it splattered the door and the floor. SpongeBob stared at Squidward, initially too shocked to react. Squidward, too, was shocked, and stared at SpongeBob's bleeding stump where his hand used to be.

It wasn't long before SpongeBob began to scream deafeningly from pain and terror. SpongeBob gripped onto his stump to try and quell the bleeding, but this was a futile maneuver. Blood still shot out profusely, coating the walls in a thick ooze. SpongeBob's severed hand was stuck gripping the doorknob.

The screaming was constant and intense. Squidward, in a panic, shouted at SpongeBob to stop, but he wouldn't. So Squidward had no choice but to beat him to try and get him to stop. He started punching his face, his eyes, his mouth, his stomach, all the while shouting "shut up!"

When Squidward realized that beating him wouldn't do the trick, he began to stab him. He did it once as a warning. Then a second time as punishment for continuing to scream. Then a third time. Then a fourth. Then a fifth. Eventually the screams dissipated to murmurs, as blood began to ooze out of SpongeBob's mouth.

An hour after the incident, Squidward looked at what he had done. SpongeBob's corpse was swollen and bruised, battered beyond belief, missing his hand and stabbed countless times. His eyes were swelled shut from Squidward's blows, and his nose was broken to the point of destruction. Bone was showing beneath his eye from one particularly fierce strike. There was definitely not going to be an open casket.

Squidward dragged the body towards the basement and threw it down the stairs. He heard bones crunch as it tumbled, and he shut the door, feeling nothing.

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It took some time, but eventually life in Bikini Bottom seemed normal again. When SpongeBob went missing, everyone was up in arms. Search parties were constantly patrolling, determined to find one of Bikini Bottom's most beloved citizens.

The Krusty Krab suffered some dark times, but eventually hired a new fry cook who was just as capable as SpongeBob, but definitely not as endlessly happy to be there. Mr. Krabs eventually retired and handed the keys over to his daughter Pearl, who revitalized the restaurant in the wake of SpongeBob's absence. Squidward remained employed at the Krusty Krab and he did not catch the suspicion of anyone.

Squidward sat back and observed as Bikini Bottom mourned the loss of SpongeBob. He wondered how it felt to be this loved. If he died, would anyone mourn for him? Maybe, he thought to himself. But he wasn't eager to find out.

Squidward now goes straight home after work each night, never treating himself to movies or Squid-night-outs. He makes sure to deadbolt the door and shut the blinds. Then he goes down into the basement, where his friend is waiting for him, eternally patient. Covered in clean linen, sprayed with sweet-smelling oils. Preserved completely.

SpongeBob watches Squidward as he paints. He listens as Squidward plays his clarinet, and doesn't mind if he hits an off-note. He sits across from him as he eats dinner. Forever a perfect friend.

And now Squidward sleeps soundly each night, knowing he will never be lonely again.