Based off of Squid's Day Off...

Smoke filled the air. Charred dollars littered the floor. Mr. Krabs was hysterical.

"Where is he?" he cried frantically. "Where's me beloved fry cook?"

"I can't find him," replied a nasally voice, coughing. "It's near impossible to see through all of this smoke!"

Fire burned around them, the Krusty Krab engulfed in flames.

"I should've never left him in charge, Krabs. It's my fault! He probably didn't know how to man both the cash register and the grill on his own."

Mr. Krabs caught a glimpse of the kitchen door and headed for it, dragging Squidward behind him in hurry. "Never mind your apologies, Mr. Squidward, we have to save SpongeBob!" Planks of wood fell around them, ablaze. "It's not about the money anymore," he said as he took one last glance at the burning cash register before opening the kitchen door.

Thick, black smoke billowed out of the open door. The two began coughing and sputtering as the fumes entered their lungs/gills.

"Mr. Krabs," Squidward wheezed, "the fire! It must've started in here."

"I reckon."

The octopus gripped his throat, gasping for clean water. "There's no way he could've survived back here. We're barely managing" —he coughed— "a minute!"

Though Squidward couldn't see it, Mr. Krabs' eyes filled with tears. His hard face softening with anguish. "D-don't lose hope. Keep lookin' for the boy!" He paused before speaking the painful words: "I want to see him, whether he be dead or alive."

"Oh, but it's unbearably hot in here, Eugene." Squidward's eyes stared into the massive fire that was burning before them.

"Damn right!"

Squidward knelt on the floor, practically choking on the clouds of blackness that filled the kitchen.

Sorrowful anger rose in Mr. Krabs' voice. "Me livelihood, me money, and me greatest employee are all aflame before me very eyes!" His raucous screams of turmoil sent chills down Squidward's spine (if he had one).

"Krabs, please calm down. I need you to get through this," the octopus pleaded. "We need to find SpongeB—" A yelp escaped him as an ember landed on his head.

"Forget SpongeBob!" A somber Krabs approached the grill to inspect the source of the fire, the heat causing him to sweat bullets. "He's already dead."

"Is it true?" Squidward whimpered, looking up from where he knelt. "Do you see him?"

"What's left of him," came the broken-hearted response.

The octopus squinted his eyes to see a red claw outstretched, inches away from the fire. He could see Mr. Krabs almost "playing" with the flames. Realization hit him like a brick.

"Don't do it, Eugene!"

Suddenly, a rumbling was heard and the roof began to cave in.

"If me restaurant —me baby— is coming down, I'm coming down with it," Mr. Krabs said solemnly, saluting Squidward before waving him off. "It was nice knowing ya', Mr. Squidward. Take care of Pearlie for me."

Squidward scrambled to his feet, overwhelmed with emotion. As he started to evacuate the kitchen, lip trembling and ink dribbling from between his legs, he remembered something.

"Krabs, the formula!"

Mr. Krabs' eyes went wide with pure horror, but before he could reply, a heavy object fell on top of him, crushing him, before engulfing his body in flames.

As Squidward burst through the door in a panic, he almost wished that he had been crushed to death like his boss. No part of him wanted to experience life in this moment. Every part of him wanted to collapse and die. He had never really liked working at the Krusty Krab, and he claimed to have despised SpongeBob, but in these moments of tragedy and heartache, his hatred towards them was washed away. —Burned, rather.

The only hate Squidward had now was towards himself.

..."Have you finished those errands?"