Hello,

Hello?

Hello!

Hey! Down here, you moron!

[Clears throat.] Umm. I didn’t mean that. Alright, Well… Um. Let’s dive into it.

The story is not about Chum Bucket in her past glory. You know… Before we went out of business. It’s about Lauren, her dream, and mine.

Everybody has a dream. It’s not the one you get immersed in when you sleep. It’s the one that keeps us awake during the day and keeps us burning in the dark.

Lauren had a dream; She wanted to be a model, and that dream came true. She was the face on the covers of magazines, appeared on shows, and walked the fashion aisles.

But she said the finest aisle she ever walked on was to meet her husband at the altar. Only that it didn’t come with the bridesmaids, families, wedding bells, and flowers; it happened like a fight.

The doors of the church swung open, slamming against the wall. That loud bang disrupted Mr. Plankton’s prayers with the priest. He got up from kneeling, his eyes on the entrance where the noise had come from.

“You’re not leaving me!” Lauren shouted. Her smeared lipstick glared from where she stood. Her hair was tussled, and her chest heaved unevenly.

The cold breeze from outside whooshed against her and into the church.

“Yes, I am!” He snapped back!

“You, Moron!” She stormed down to the altar. One heel in hand and the other, now a flat shoe from the broken heel.

He stood, heads up, unmoved. Something about Lauren was so scary that even the priest stood aside, shaking.

But his confidence was what drew him to her in the first place. He never feared her.

“How dare you?” She gnashed through her teeth, almost close to where he stood.

“How dare I?”

“I left the entire production to find you, only for you to tell me this!”

“You have no right to tell me what to do!” He fired back.

“I so do! I’m your boss!” She came face-to-face with him.

“Well, not anymore! I resigned a week ago!”

The cloud of silence hushed over them as they stood with heated gaze for each other.

That tense moment was short-lived because she pressed herself against him, saying, “You are so hot right now.”

“I’m burning with a fever only you can ignite.” He replied. She opened her mouth to say something, but he slipped his hand behind her head, shoved her head close to him, and shut her up with a kiss.

“I love you!” They both said that simultaneously when they finally broke away for some air.

Gasping, he said mid-breath, “Marry me.”

She froze. His hands moved to cup her face, “Marry me. Right here and now. So, I can love you like I’m insane… Every day till the day I die. I love you, Lauren. Let’s build a family together.”

Her eyes searched his for any evidence of doubt. A single sign of doubt would mean she would bolt out of that door and move on with her life as if she never knew him.

But she saw something. Her eye darkened despite her running mascara. She bowed and sniffed painfully. When she looked up, her eyes gleamed with tears, and she answered weakly as if all her strength had been sapped out from her, “Yes.”

The priest wedded them right there and then, and they officially became a couple.

They left the fast life in the city to start a simple one in a small town called Bikini Bottom.

There, they opened a business called “The Chum Bucket.” And it boomed. It was the biggest restaurant in town. The aroma of Chum would sweep across halls, homes, and schools and make tummies rumble. Soon, it became everyone’s favorite spot.

People from the city and other parts of the ocean visited, fascinated with Bikini Bottom’s finest fast-food joint. Food critics, journalists, and health inspectors scribbled angrily on their notepads and left. Yet, they published great reports about Chum Bucket.

Chum Bucket was beyond food; it was the magical experiences that occurred over Chum: Making up with your best friend, plotting mischief with your twin, reuniting with an old flame, hiding away to watch your crush eat and laugh with their friends, and the most incredible experience: Love.

The Chum Bucket was the #1 lovers' spot. In the Chum Bucket, my mother met my father, a research surgeon. They fell in love, married, and had me.

When I came, my Grandmami swore I was her favorite even though I was the only one. She gave me everything. She played with me and cheered me on for the littlest achievement. She was my core memory. She was my happy place. And because the world is a harsh place for little creatures like myself, I was always with Grandmami till her last days in that nursing home.

One day, I sat by her bedside, enthralling her with stories from my professor, who claimed he had toured the surface. Professor Nemo’s stories were nothing anyone had heard before, and my Grandmami enjoyed it.

When I was done with another episode of Professor Nemo’s adventure, my Grandmami cleared her throat after our laughter died down.

“You see, Sheldon, One day, The Chum Bucket is going to be yours. And I know you will make it the biggest success in our history. It’s time I give you the Secret Chum Bucket formula.” She started, but my mind drifted off to Professor Nemo’s class.

When she called my attention, I was startled a little. “Sheldon? Were you listening?” I nodded energetically.

“Okay,” She said, handing me a bottle with a rolled-up paper inside. “Go on now, or you’ll be late for class, my genius boy. Visit me tomorrow,” And I scurried away.

The “tomorrow” came, and I visited, but she was gone. My soul died as I watched the coffin scrape the sides of the dug hole as they lowered her into the ground.

The pain was unbearable. I kept visiting her empty bed until it was occupied by someone else. I suffered so badly that I had to switch off my feelings. It then fell into a pit of emptiness.

Nothing excited me. I had lost my passion as well. I dropped out of Professor Nemo’s class to focus on the Chum Bucket and live on my Grandmami’s legacy. Yet, I made a massive mess of things. I was deserted, and in my loneliness and despair, I made Karen my computer wife.

Sadly, even she couldn’t cheer me up.

My days stretched on painfully, and I sunk deeper into my gloom. That was until a small restaurant moved across the street, and something sparked in me. I watched my competitor grow, and my envy grew with it.

The envy instilled bitterness in me, but it gave me the chase that jump started my dead heart. While the chase made me feel alive again, it got me stepped on, thrown in the trash, and massively disrespected.

I got tired and decided to try something else. My wife begged me not to go the day I told her I was going to the Eastside to join a rock band, but I was adamant.

But on my first gig I was thrown out on the streets for being terrible at singing. I was too close to the ground to say that I slumped to it. And just when I thought things wouldn’t get worse, it began to rain. It started with one giant drop of water, soon, it was pouring.

As the thunderstorm raged on, my tears poured with it. I was grateful for the lightning that rapped across the sky and the loud thunderclaps that erupted later. At least no one would hear my heart break or listen to me cry.

But someone did, and she called my name. I heard it loud and clear.

“Plankton?” Her voice whispered into my ears. I shuddered under the pelting rain, burning and freezing at the same time.

“Plankton?” I heard it again, but I wasn’t sure. So, I kept my eyes shut and wrapped my arms tightly around myself.

“Plankton!” I felt a tap on my shoulders.

I was startled awake, and my blurry sight barely took in the familiar face. Her green was washed off, and her eyes, with delicate long lashes, blinked at me. I rubbed at my eye, and her face perfectly came into view. It was Grandmami. 🥺

I dove into her embrace and wet her shoulder with tears. As I was settling into the comfort of her embrace, I remembered a blood-curdling fact. I jolted away.

“Wait. Am I dead?”

She smiled sweetly at me and answered, “No, silly, you’re not. But you will be if you don’t go home.”

“I can’t.” My shoulder slumped, disappointed that I wasn’t dead yet.

“Why?”

“I’m a failure. I have failed you. I failed the Chum Bucket. I failed Karen, my computer wife. I’m a… failure” Memories flooded my mind as I think of how life has defeated those words out of me. Every time I was stepped on. Every Chum that melted bowls. Every time, Krabs won. Every time I failed Grandmami.

“Hmm. How did that happen? I thought I gave you the secret Chum Bucket formula.”

“I lost it, ma. I lost it. I never got to open it.”

“Hmm. That explains why you were so engrossed in getting the secret Krabby Patty formula. Well, since you’re here, I might as well tell you what the secret is.”

She leaned closer; I leaned too with rapt attention. Not wanting to miss any details this time.

“The secret is that you must fail a hundred times to get the formula right before.”

“But I have failed up to 30 times!”

“That’s not enough. You must fail more if you want to get it right. It was failure that made the Chum Bucket at first. I failed a hundred times before I got it right.”

My head turned, and I was propelled to look around for a while. A wave of nostalgia washed over me as I saw that we were back in my room when I was a child. The wallpaper was new, and my toy chest was scattered. Exactly the way it used to be.

“Now that you know how many times you must fail. What must you do?”

“Fail more times!” I answered.

“Great! The more you fail. The better it turns out when you finally get it right.”

I felt my body rattling; I became alarmed.

“Grandmami, what’s happening?”

A rift tore between us as if the reality was made of paper. I was on one side and she was on the other.

“It’s time for you to go back.”

“No! Not without you!”

“I’m sorry, Plankton, but my time has come.”

I stretched to touch her, but the rift got wider.

“Never forget what I told you!” I heard her say before I woke up.

I awoke in the arms of Karen, my computer wife.

“You came for me?” I asked, feeling myself burn up.

“I never gave up on you.”

I never put that in her programming. Yet, she never gave up on me. A tear slipped out of the corner of my eye. The last thing I saw was the beautiful bright blue ocean sky as I drifted into a comforting sleep. I have reunited with my wife.

It’s been three months and a thousand trials after that. I didn’t give up when I failed at 100. I didn’t give up when I blew up my lab at the 124th trial. I never gave up until I got it right.

I knew I had gotten it right when I caught a stray in my dump, helping himself to some Chum. Since then, I've had a couple of people come in, eat and get take-outs too.

I didn’t give up ‘cause I was trying to sell my dream. Everyone has a dream. What’s yours? Come down to the Chum Bucket; let’s discuss it over a hot bowl of my Grandmami’s secret Chum.