Spongebobby: The Diagnosis?

You thought I had forgotten about the beloved Sponge, but I did not. All the while, even with the distractions of the news from Snail Heights, the whole eight-ball affair, thoughts of this beloved all-purpose pal and his tragic plight have never been far from my mind.

Last week, Dr. Monkey T. Frogg and Dr. M&M (aka Frog Boy) contacted “him”. They wanted permission to conduct further tests and to consult with another colleague, known simply as “Rabbit”. “He” immediately consented. I, on the other hand, protested vehemently. I tried frantically to grab Bob to hide him under anything at hand like the blue sham, but, as usual, to no avail.

I believe I have mentioned before how big “they” are and how “they” control the means of production and consumption, yadda, yadda, yadda. So “they” had their way, and now, in a way, I am rather glad of it.

It turns out that “Rabbit” has devised a complex analytic diagnostic technique. The patient must be submerged in a bath of warm, soapy water. “Rabbit” reads the pattern of bubbles to determine the disease and its causation.

In the case of the one true Spongebobby, he has determined that there is an obstruction in his pie hole.

“A pit?” said Dr. Frogg.

“A stone, a piece of gravel?” queried M&M.

“Neither,” opined “Rabbit.” “It is a very tiny microchip. Judging by the pattern of bubbles, the chip is broadcasting encoded data to a receiver embedded in the tunnels beneath Snail Heights. It is diabolical. It is sinister. That will be 2,000 carrots please.”

“What?”

“Two thousand carrots. That was the agreed price. Up front.”

“Do you take Spongecare?”

“No, but I will arrange to bill them if you like. It’s a good plan. You’ll be generously reimbursed.”

“What are we going to do with 2,000 carrots?”

“Where are we going to get 2,000 carrots? Farmer’s Market doesn’t start for another month.”

“That’s your problem,” said Rabbit.

“Don’t worry”, said Dr. M&M, “I have an excellent recipe for carrot soup.”

“In that case, I am prepared to offer a special discount. I will credit your deductible towards a share in the soup. I’m inordinately fond of carrot soup provided your recipe does not call for ginger. I am allergic to ginger.”

WTF! WTF!! What is going on here? AAARGH!!! I mean, my sponge is plugged up with a microchip undoubtedly inserted by the evil fiends who live in the tunnel under Snail Heights. He’s broadcasting gibberish to half the universe and these guys are trading recipes for CARROT SOUP!!!!!!

To be continued…