Squidward's Daily Life At The Krusty Krab

The Krusty Krab felt eerily quiet after the mysterious fish's departure. The usual chatter of customers had dwindled to hushed murmurs, and even SpongeBob, who was always brimming with energy, seemed subdued as he cleaned the shattered tray from the floor. Squidward sat behind the cash register, his tentacles drumming on the counter as he tried to process what had just happened.

He'd seen plenty of strange things working here—bubble contests gone wrong, jellyfish stampedes, and SpongeBob's countless antics—but this was different. The look in that fish's eyes, the cold threat in his voice… it lingered in Squidward's mind like a sour note on his clarinet.

"Hey, Squidward," SpongeBob said softly, breaking the silence. He stood a few feet away, holding the broom like it was a weapon. "Do you think Mr. Krabs is okay?"

Squidward snorted, though there wasn't much conviction behind it. "If by 'okay,' you mean 'probably hiding under a pile of money in his office,' then sure."

SpongeBob's brow furrowed, his cheerful demeanor slipping further. "I've never seen Mr. Krabs look so… scared before. Do you think he's in trouble?"

Squidward hesitated. He wanted to brush off SpongeBob's concerns, to chalk this all up to another one of Mr. Krabs's greedy schemes gone awry. But the truth was, he didn't know. And that uncertainty gnawed at him.

"I think," Squidward began, his voice lower than usual, "that whatever mess Mr. Krabs has gotten himself into, we'd be better off staying out of it."

"But we're a team!" SpongeBob protested, his eyes wide and earnest. "If Mr. Krabs is in trouble, we have to help him!"

"Help him do what, exactly?" Squidward shot back. "Pay off a debt to some shady loan shark? Get ourselves involved in something even worse? No, thank you."

SpongeBob opened his mouth to argue but was interrupted by a loud bang from Mr. Krabs's office. Both of them froze, their eyes darting toward the closed door.

"What was that?" SpongeBob whispered.

"Probably him throwing gold doubloons at the wall," Squidward muttered, though his sarcasm was half-hearted.

Another bang echoed through the restaurant, followed by muffled shouting. This time, Squidward's curiosity got the better of him. He sighed, pushing himself off the stool. "Fine. Let's go see what our fearless leader is up to."

They approached the office cautiously, the tension in the air thick enough to cut with a knife. Squidward knocked on the door, his knuckles rapping sharply against the wood.

"Mr. Krabs? Are you… alive in there?"

The shouting stopped abruptly, replaced by the sound of hurried footsteps. A moment later, the door creaked open just wide enough for Mr. Krabs to peer out. His eyes were bloodshot, and his claws trembled slightly as he gripped the edge of the door.

"What do ye want?" he barked, though his voice lacked its usual bluster.

"We heard a noise," SpongeBob said, his tone gentle. "Are you okay, Mr. Krabs?"

"I'm fine," Mr. Krabs snapped, though his twitching eye said otherwise. "Now get back to work, both of ye!"

Squidward crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe. "Come on, Krabs. We're not blind. Something's going on, and it's obviously bad. If you don't tell us what's happening, we're not going anywhere."

Mr. Krabs glared at Squidward, his jaw tightening. For a moment, it seemed like he was about to slam the door in their faces. But then his shoulders sagged, and he let out a heavy sigh.

"Fine," he muttered, opening the door wider. "Come in. But this stays between us, ye hear?"

The office was a mess. Papers were strewn across the desk, and an empty chest that usually held spare change lay toppled on the floor. Mr. Krabs sat heavily in his chair, rubbing his temples as though the weight of the ocean rested on his shell.

"I've made some bad deals in my day," he admitted, his voice quieter now. "But this… this one takes the cake."

"What kind of deal?" SpongeBob asked, sitting on the edge of his seat.

Mr. Krabs hesitated, his claws clenching and unclenching. "A few months back, I borrowed some money to expand the Krusty Krab. Thought I could open a second location, double me profits."

Squidward raised an eyebrow. "And let me guess—this 'expansion' didn't go as planned."

"Not exactly," Mr. Krabs admitted, looking down at his desk. "Turns out, the loan wasn't exactly… legitimate. And now the guy I borrowed from wants his money back. With interest."

"Who did you borrow from?" SpongeBob asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Mr. Krabs's eyes darted to the window, as though expecting someone to burst in at any moment. "They call him Hammerhead. He's the meanest, nastiest loan shark in all of Bikini Bottom."

"Wait," Squidward said, his voice rising slightly. "You borrowed money from an actual loan shark?"

"I didn't have a choice!" Mr. Krabs snapped. "Business was slow, and I needed the cash. I thought I'd pay it back before it became a problem, but now…" He trailed off, his claws gripping the edge of the desk.

SpongeBob looked between Mr. Krabs and Squidward, his face a mix of concern and determination. "We'll help you, Mr. Krabs. We'll figure this out together!"

Squidward groaned. "Oh, sure. Let's just march up to this Hammerhead guy and ask him to forgive the debt. I'm sure he'll be so understanding."

But before anyone could respond, the front door of the Krusty Krab burst open, slamming against the wall. The sound echoed through the building, and the three of them froze.

"Uh… did anyone lock the door?" Squidward asked, his voice shaky.

"No," SpongeBob whispered, clutching his spatula like a lifeline.

Heavy footsteps echoed through the restaurant, growing louder with each passing second. A deep, gravelly voice called out, "Krabs! You've got some explaining to do!"

Mr. Krabs's face turned pale, and his claws trembled as he reached for the debt notice on his desk. "He's here," he whispered.

Squidward's stomach dropped. "Great. Just what we needed."