05x17 - 20,000 Patties Under the Sea/The Battle of Bikini Bottom

[bunniefuu]

(jellyfish humming)

SPONGEBOB:
Breaker, breaker.

Outer perimeter looks clear.
Over.

Uh, Robert. Robert!

Uh, Ronald. Ronald?

(walkie-talkie static)

Ryan?

Are you sure you're not trying
to say "Roger"?

Oh, wait. I got it!
l got it!

Ringo.

(walkie-talkie squeaks)

(jellyfish humming)

Patrick, we have visual contact.

Now taking evasive action.

Subject still
in close proximity. Over.

Hello?

Please reply.

Wonder if I could order pizza

with this thing.

Please!
Contact imminent, Patrick.

Respond now, please!

Please?!

SpongeBob, you're going to need
to speak up.

My eardrums aren't
what they used to be.

I can't speak up, Patrick.

There's a jellyfish over here,

and I'm worried
it might sting me

if I make any loud...

(yells)
noises.

Oops.

(both yelling)

Hello?

Is he still after us, Patrick?

(panting):
I don't know, buddy.

Should we turn around and check?

Okay.

SPONGEBOB:
Whoa!
(thudding)

Oh, I think I landed
on my pain center.

I think I landed on a rock.

(gasps)
Patrick, look!

There's a weird thing

sticking out of the
ground right there.

That's just Squidward
sunbathing again.

No, not that, Patrick. This!

Oh, what is it?

I don't know.

I think there's something
buried underneath it,

and I'm going to go get some
shovels so we can dig it up.

"We"?

(metal clanking)

Phew!

Nothing like
a little manual labor

to put some hair on your chest,
eh, Patrick?

I'll say.

(monkey hooting)

Plus, look at what
we unearthed: a UFO!

Go on. You first.

(shoes squeaking)

Kind of dark, huh?

Yeah, dark.

Well, there's got to be a light
switch around here somewhere.

Found it!

Excuse me, sir.

(whirring)

(clinking)

Hey, Patrick, look.

We're moving!

And here's the steering wheel.

Oh, hold it, SpongeBob.

You better let
me drive.

Give me that wheel!

No. Let go.
I want to drive.

(sighs)

I don't understand,
Squidward.

Where are all the customers?

I know The Krusty Krab

isn't Bikini Bottom's
most prestigious eatery,

but at least it's better

than that salty old Chum Bucket
across the street,

and that's our only competition.

Am I getting paid extra
for this conversation?

Ah, come on, Squidward.

Can't you just pretend
to listen for once in your life?

Do it for old
Mr. Krabs.

(sighs) Well, since you can't
bring any customers

into The Krusty Krab,
have you ever thought

about bringing The Krusty Krab
to the customers?

Quiet, Squidward!
I'm brainstorming.

Ooh! Ooh! What if,

instead of bringing customers
to The Krusty Krab,

we could bring The Krusty Krab
to the customers?!

♪ La, la, la-la, la-la ♪

♪ La, la, la, la-la, la. ♪

Why, yes, of course, but how?

(over microphone):
Can we park here?

Hey, Mr. Krabs!

Look what Patrick and I found.

We're gonna use it
to go on a long journey.

Or even
around the block!

That's it! We'll take
The Krusty Krab on the road!

(whirring)

So long, lad.

Make me lots of money!

Bye, Squidward!

Bye, Mr. Krabs!

Bye, Squidward.

You said, "Bye,
Squidward" twice.

I like Squidward.

PLANKTON:
A traveling restaurant, eh?

It's not fair!

I had that idea years ago!

No matter.

If Mr. Krabs wants
to play dirty,

then Plankton's ready
for his turn to take...

his turn.

(laughing maniacally)

(creaking and steam hissing)

(steam hissing, horn blaring)

(travel signal bell dings)

\-hHello! Hello.

Could I interest you
in a Krabby Patty?

No, thanks.

Now what?

I don't know, Patrick.

Mr. Krabs said if we
didn't find customers,
not to come back.

Are you sure you
don't want to be our
first customer, sir?

Uh, yeah, I'm pretty sure.

SPONGEBOB:
Wait!

We'll pay ya.

Hey, thanks again, guys.

Good luck with the restaurant.

Thank you, sir. Come again!

Those nincompoops
are better salesmen

than I suspected.

(alarm blaring)

FEMALE VOICE:
Customer approaching.

Hello, little boy.

Would you like a Chum Burger?

Uh, does it come in raspberry?

Uh, no.

Blueberry?

No.

Uh...

Mmm...

Raspberry?

Ah, come on, kid.

You asked me that already.

Now quit wasting my time!

Hey, you can't talk
to my son that way!

Who do you think you are?

I'm Plankton, you old hag!

And your son smells
like boogers!

Hey, you can't talk
to my wife that way.

What do you think
this is?

I think it's time for you

to lose some weight, fatty,
that's what it is.

Hey, you can't talk to
my grandson like that.

Someone ought to put you
in a mental hospital.

Someone should put you in a box

floating down the river,
Grandma!

You're probably
right.

You people are crazy.

I'm getting out of here.

What the...?!

(all yelling)

No! Controls malfunctioning?!

(all yelling)

Get away!

(whirring)

Hey, Patrick?

Yeah.

Weren't you supposed
to be on kitchen duty?

(hissing)

Oh, no!

You burned
all the patties!

It's hard as a rock.

How are we going
to find somebody
who will buy these?

(grunting)
(glass shatters)

Hey, the rocks are all gone.

ALL:
Aw!

(engine humming,
brakes squeaking)

Folks, have I got a deal
for you!

(all talking at once)

(all talking)

(all chattering)

All right, get him!

(all shouting)

(Plankton yelling)

Hey!

Won't Mr. Krabs
be so proud of us

when he finds out
how good we're doing?

See any new customers, Patrick?

No, but I see a sign.

It says, "Warning:
Ab... eyes..."?

Here, let me see.

No, Patrick.

That says "Abyss."

PATRICK:
Oh, okay.

What's an abyss,
SpongeBob?

An abyss is a bottomless...

chasm!

Agh! We're falling!

And now we're bathed
in an eerie red light!

Yes. Yes!

(metal clinking)

(siren blaring)

Oh, no!
A deafening warning siren!

(imitating siren):
Ooh-eee! Ooh-ee!

(growling)

(roaring)

Look, Patrick,
we floated back up...

out of the deep, dark,
depressing, horrible abyss.

(growling)

Who are you calling
dark and depressing?

No! We didn't mean it that way,
Mr. Sea Monster... sir.

Um, what we really want
to know is, are you hungry?

Hungry?

I've been asleep for years,

which means my last meal
was years ago.

Yes, I'm hungry.

Well, then, try one
of our Krabby Patties.

(sniffing)

(munching)

Mmm!

That's the best thing
l've tasted

since that sewer spill
back in... ' .

I'll take of 'em.

(whooping)

Order, uh, up.

(munching)

(cash register bell dings)

Now that those two are out
of the picture,

all the customers
will come running to me!

(cash register bell dings)

This calls
for drasticer... ist measures!

Okay, you bums.

Time for the second course.

Chum Charges!

(b*mb whistling)

(expl*si*n)
Oh!

(expl*si*n, Patrick yelling)

SpongeBob, our hull's
been breached!

You know what that means?

No.

Neither do I!

Yes!

(laughs)

♪ I sunk The Krusty Krab ♪

♪ I sunk
The Krusty Krab ♪

♪ I sunk the... ♪
Ooh!

Ah, who needs that rust bucket
anyhow?

Come on in there!

I want more sandwiches!

(squeaking)

SpongeBob, look!

What is it?

It's a liquid.

SPONGEBOB: No, it's a
solid, it's a solid!

(hissing)

BOTH:
It's a lol-squid.

(rumbling)

SEA MONSTER:
All right.

What's going on in there?

Hey, that looks like
a sandwich to me.

Not-Not just a sandwich.

It's a Chumwich.

(munching)

Mmm!

Now, that's a sandwich.

(cash register bell dinging)

(hissing)

(rumbling)

Anything else
before we shove off?

I want dessert!

We... We-We don't
have desserts.

Don't give another penny
to those fast food phonies.

That's right.

They stole my idea.

My, my, my...

(grunting)

(screaming)

Hey, a chocolate
éclair.

Now that looks
like dessert to me.

N-No. No, no, no, no, no, no!

Uh, you got it all wrong, see?

Hey!

(thumping)

There you are, Mr. Krabs.

Just like new again.

Now all we got to do is keep
SpongeBob away from...

We're back, Mr. Krabs!

Tell me all about it. Tell me!

Tell me! Tell me!
Tell me! Tell me!

You wouldn't believe it,
Mr. Krabs.

We had so many new customers!

I don't care about that.

Tell me about the money.

There we were at the bottom
of a deep, dark abyss,

and we had to let go
of something heavy.

And paper.

You let go of all the money
I earned as ballast?

(squeaking)

(creaking)

But on the bright side,
we did manage

to bring back , pounds of
these decorative deep sea rocks.

Where's your best friend
now, SpongeBob?

Well, according to this T-shirt,

it says my best friend

is right here!
(giggling)

How about now?

Right by my side.

(both laughing)

Wow, clothing that announces
our feelings for each other.

(sniffles):
Let's get 'em, Patrick.

Can I help you boys?

I believe you can.

My best friend and I

would like to purchase...
(sobbing)

Patrick, why are
you crying?

You... found
a new best friend.

No, what are you...?

(screaming)

Wait, no!

This isn't what it looks like.

(sobbing)

Patrick, look out!

Behind you!

Excuse me, but does
this come in a...

No! You're not
my best friend!

We've got to ditch
these outfits.

They're sending off
the wrong signals.

(shirts ripping)

Whew!
Whew!

(screaming)

We need new outfits

to show our best
friendiness, Pat.

You mean like those guys?

(indistinct chatter)

Yeah, just like those guys!

(SpongeBob sighs)

Best friend outfits like these
really make a statement.

Look at these guys.

Whoa, I like that one!

Hey, mister, where did
you and your friends

get your matching outfits?

Oh, no, these aren't my friends.

ln fact, I hate
just about everyone here.

But my love for historical
battles is so great,

I join these losers
every year

to reenact the Battle
of Bikini Bottom.

There was a Battle
of Bikini Bottom?

Huh?
Huh?

Well, duh, SpongeBob.

It's only the most
significant event

in Bikini Bottom history.

A long time ago,

the town was divided
into two groups.

Those who spent all their time

washing their hands
like softies.

Clean as a whistle.

And those who had
more important things

to do with their time.

(toilet flushing)

(yawning)

Well, looks good to me.

That is truly disgusting.

Oh, yeah?

You can't go around
our town touching things

with those filthy mitts.

Oh, yeah?

Yes.

(grunting and groaning)

ALL:
Wash your hands.

ALL:
Never!

And that's how we won our right
to wash as we please.

Ugh, that's not what happened.

You don't wash your hands,
Patrick?

Never have, never will.

Blecch!

Does that bother you,
huh, SpongeBob?

They only had
one ice cream cone.

(slurping)

That's okay.

Thank you, friend.

(slurping)

Mmm.
Mmm.

So, anyway, I said...
Wait!

You got something
on your tongue.

Really?
Here.

I'll get it.

Thank you.

Frankly, yes, Patrick,
that does bother me.

Well, then I guess
we can't be friends.

What are you saying?
(groans)

Do I have to spell
it out for you?

You...

are, um...

How do you spell
"not my friend"?

Oh, come on.

We can work this out.

We'll start a new life.

Just you, me, and this can
of disinfectant spray.

(misting)

Come on in, Patrick.

Here, let me take
your coat for you.

No, thank you.

l happen to like
my various smells and germs.

But being clean
is so much better.

Well, says you!

I like dirty.

Clean!
Dirty!

Clean!
Uh, excuse us.

But we have a battle
to reenact.

Fine, if that's how it is,

then I am joining
the other side!

Fine! Me, too!

Oh, come on.

Let's go play somewhere else.

Waa! Got your nose.

Hey, give it back!

Not until you
wash your hands.

Oh, yeah? Well...

I got your eyeballs!

(giggling, fizzing)
Huh?

(squirting)

(laughing)

Whoa!

Eww, brain juice.

Do you give up yet?

Sorry, Patrick, but
a filthy slob like you

is no match for a clean-cut
fellow like me.

Your pants are falling down.

Really?
I'll fix it.

Satisfied?

There, you look good now.

You could use a makeover,
though.

Ugh, look at those feet.

Why? What's wrong with them?

Don't worry.
I'll take care of it.

Gotcha!
Oh, let go!

No! Not a pedicure!

(sobbing)

No, no, not that!

Anything but that!

Not nail polish!

You sick little monster.

Face my morning breath.

You, sir, could use

some dental hygiene.

Who me?

My teeth are fine. See?

A little toothpaste

and you'll have teeth like mine.

(screams)

You've got to brush
in little circles.

Baa-aa-aa!

(screams)

Minty fresh!

Taste pit, evildoer.

(grunting)

You're a stinky, stinky
sea star.

I think you could use
a shot of this.

No! No, no, not deodorant!

(misting)

No!

(coughing)

(sniffing)

My beautiful pit-stink...
it's gone.

The gloves are off now.

It's booger time.

Oh, booger-schmooger.

You don't even have a nose.

Oh, yeah?

(gasps)

Agh! Booger!

(screaming)

(screaming continues)

Run!

Run, Mr. Krabs.

Patrick is digging for gold!

(groaning)

Gold?!
(giggling)

Did you get any
of Patrick's gold?

He's not digging for any gold
l'm looking for.

Aha! I've got you now.

Careful, Patrick,
I've got a w*apon. Waa!

(screams)

Raw onions!

(sobbing)

That does it!

See this?

A Krabby Patty?

What are you going to do...
eat it?

Oh, I'm not going to eat it.

No, not patty socks!

That's right.

Your precious patties
on my stinky feet.

You better stop that.

(laughing)

Stinky little feet.

(grunting angrily)

You stop that right now!

Hopping... clams!

(gasps)

(grunting):
Hey.

I got my filth back.

Not for long,

Mr. Sticky Shorts.

You won't have your filth
once I use this on you.

No. Not soap.

You wouldn't dare.

(bubbling):
Try me.

(honks, grunts)

Stay back! I'll do it!

It's too late for that.

(inhales deeply)

(grunts)

(straining)

(yells)

(laughs)

My beautiful filth.

It's gone.

I'm squeaky clean.

(screams)

I'm covered in muck and scum.

Man, to get my filth back,

I'll have to wallow
in mud forever...

It'll take weeks for me
to get clean.

I'll need baths a day.

...slather toe jam
on my armpits...

I'll have to disinfect
my eyeballs...

...smear slime on my teeth.

...and dry-clean my uvula.

(giggling)
(giggling)

All right!
All right!

Now that I'm filthy, I can
spend all day getting clean.

And since I'm clean,
I can get even filthier!

Thanks, SpongeBob.

No, Patrick, thank you.

You're my best friend ever.
You're my best friend ever.

Hey, what's going on here?

This battle isn't over
until we have a winner.

Fret not, my friend,
for I have learned the truth.

lt matters not
whether one is dirty or clean.

For can cleanliness exist
without filthiness?

And would we know filthiness
without cleanliness?

We must not reenact the history
that divides us.

Rather, we must embrace
that which draws us together.

All must be free
to choose their own path.

Right, friend Patrick?

Squeaky clean.

Squeaky... it's squeaky.

Mm-hmm, he has
embraced the truth.

Wow.

l think the little yellow guy
has taught us a valuable lesson.

And what is that, my son?

That reenacting battles
is really lame.

Come on, guys.

Let's play something
more manly like football...

Or hockey.

Or knitting
fluffy sweaters.

(squeaking)

ALL:
Yeah!

Come, Patrick, my work here...

is done.