Patrick: Uh.your art can never hang in a museum? SpongeBob: Do you know what this means, Patrick?
Patrick: No, I mean look at it, it's swimming away! Patrick: SpongeBob, I think your drawing's coming to life! Patrick: Pretty good, SpongeBob! But it's lacking basic construction, and your perspective leaves a lot to be desired. SpongeBob: Stand back, Patrick! I can't draw with you breathing down my neck! SpongeBob: It is a giant pencil, Patrick! Let's draw some giant pictures with it. SpongeBob: three! (They blow a tie in paper) Patrick, how come you always do paper? (suddenly, the pencil drops and bursts their balloons and pierces the ground. SpongeBob: Scissors beats paper, Patrick! (laughs) SpongeBob's scissor shaped bubble cuts Patrick's paper shaped bubble in half) SpongeBob and Patrick: Three! (blows the bubbles. however, he drops his pencil into the sea) My pencil! What?įrench Narrator: The artist has learned the first lesson of the sea: Always bring a spare pencil.Īrtist: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!! (cut to the pencil dropping into the water, then cuts to SpongeBob and Patrick playing "Rock-Paper-Scissors" with bubbles) Ah, it seems that inspiration has struck.Īrtist: Hmm.ah! (draws some strokes. Let us watch and see the fruits of his struggle. (Scene opens as live-action shot of the man on a simple boat at sea with an easel and pencil)įrench Narrator: Well, well, what is this? Ah, the artist at sea. Whereas my facial disfigurement keeps me from venturing out in daylight, forcing me to put together clothes from what I find in the gutter. Obviously, your shoes are nicer than mine are, just because you can go shopping in the city’s finest stores under your unassuming alter ego. There are some crucial differences, and this is why we fight on two different sides of the law. Let me ask you this: were you picked last always in gym class? Oh.īut look: we are wearing the same outfit. I can too! I’ve never met anyone else who can do that! Is your family Irish? Oh, you’re Scottish? Close enough. Except that I went to an evil small liberal arts college, and you went to a small liberal arts college that fought for justice.Ĭan you touch your tongue to your nose? Do it. We both went to small, liberal arts colleges in the Midwest, majoring in English. Why can’t two men be longtime companions without it being intimated that it is something more than that, I ask you? We both wear our hair short on the sides and back but slightly longer at the front, styled with molding gel. We both are aided by vaguely British, elderly manservants who many people erroneously think share a homoerotic relationship with us. We have both gotten in trouble for keeping secrets with people who think that secrets are rude. We both keep secrets, and have lost loved ones because of these secrets. We both seek out the darkness and shun the light. You’re not laughing so much now, are you? That’s right, we lose television privileges. Guard, show our friend what happens when we laugh too much. You may laugh, but we are not so different, you and I. Killing you will be like destroying a beautiful butterfly. In some ways, I will regret destroying something so extraordinary. It has been a pleasure doing combat with you all these many years, in our little game of cat and mouse, often aided by explosives, or flying machines, or houses of mirrors. I admit I would be lying if I said I am not happy to see you. How do you like my underground cavern lair? Is it too dark? How do you like the blacklights? Are your shackles too tight? Keep in mind they have to be somewhat tight, so as not to defeat the purpose, but I don’t want them to be too tight. Ah! My arch-nemesis, finally we meet, after all these years.
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