It was a normal day at the Krusty Krab—until it wasn’t.

SpongeBob was flipping patties with his usual enthusiasm, humming a tune, while Squidward leaned against the register, half-asleep. Patrick sat in a booth, stuffing his face with fries. Suddenly, the door burst open.

“I demand a Krabby Patty, extra pickles!” growled Bubble Bass, slamming his flipper on the counter.

Before SpongeBob could answer, Plankton zoomed in on a tiny jetpack. “Forget pickles! Hand over the secret formula!”

“You’ll have to go through me first, tiny!” Larry the Lobster flexed, blocking his way.

As the chaos brewed, Squilliam Fancyson strutted in, twirling his mustache. “Ah, Squiddy, still working here? How quaint.”

Squidward groaned. “What do you want?”

“Dinner, obviously. Only the finest Krabby Patty for a man of my status.”

Suddenly, the walls shook, and The Flying Dutchman floated in, green mist swirling around him. “Arrr! I’m here to collect me free meal!”

“FREE?!” Mr. Krabs practically fainted. “No one eats free on my watch!”

Then, Pearl stomped in, groaning. “Ugh, Dad, can we please leave? This place is like so embarrassing.”

Before he could answer, Sandy crashed through the ceiling, landing on a Pearl who screamed in irritation. “Howdy, y’all! Just testin’ my new jet boots!”

“Hey! Watch it!” a voice sneered. Kevin C. Cucumber, leader of the Jellyspotters, adjusted his sunglasses. “Unlike some people, I have class.”

Before anyone could respond, Man Ray burst in, accompanied by bubble buddy who meanly sneered. “A villain’s gotta eat too, ya know!”

“NO WAY!” SpongeBob gasped. “This is the best day ever!”

“NO,” Squidward grumbled, “it’s the worst day ever.”

And just when things couldn’t get crazier, the deep fryer exploded.