Is This The Krusty Krab No This Is Patrick Novels & Stories

What just happened? Did he just kill Pat?

"Don't try and provoke me, Fat Pat. I won't even look twice if someone like Lucy was handed to me on a silver platter. I even refused it when one of the war heroes offered their granddaughter to me!" "Pffttt! Hahahahah!" Patrick immediately burst into laughter when he heard that. "That's super hilarious! Did you learn nothing but bragging during your five years in prison? I can't believe you made the claim that a war hero's granddaughter wants to marry you. You must have lost a couple of screws after Lucy abandoned you!"

They didn't feel important at this moment. Suddenly Pat pulled Jax toward him and let out a hollow sounding laugh. “Whoopsie! What an airhead!” He said just a little too loud, sounding very much unlike himself. “He must not have even noticed you standing there as he went to grab the-” He paused for half a second. “family size bag of corn chips!” Pat quickly grabbed a bag of the corn chips and tossed it into a cart a few feet away, there was already some food in the cart. Jax was still standing there, his mouth slightly agape now.

"Um....kid, what's your name?" "Patrick." "Hi, Patrick. Where's SpongeBob?" I joked, but the kid doesn’t seem to get it. Patrick just tilted his head to the side. "Never mind. My name is Hailey. Nice to meet you, Patrick." He didn't say anything. Well this is awkward. "So um.....tell me, Patrick. What are you doing in this building? Are you lost?" He nodded. "Do you...or do you know someone here that I could take you to?"

Noah could tell that most of the trophies were from the American football tournaments. Principal Howard Patel looked at Noah sharply with his hazel eyes and then smiled, “so you’ve graduated from California culinary of art institute and was working in a New York five stars restaurant for a few months…” he inquired. The principal was an Indian-American who spoke with a very strong Indian accent. He wore a boring nude-color suit, with a black-tie. He has natural chocolate brown skin, black hair, with a clean shiny bald at the front side of his head. But what Noah worried the most was the way Mr. Patel's smile, it was really creepy. His mouth was very wide with large teeth inside, he reminded N

“Your brother is already there. Get inside to Seb’s VIP Lounge already, man. I’ll be there in a sec.” I rub the back of my neck with my sweaty palm. My nerve pricks me and my second thought of running away is tingling my skin, but I’m already here, and it’s Paul’s birthday after all. If they won’t like me here, then I will just leave. Easy peasy. “Wow! Look who finally gets out from his lair?” Patrick says exaggeratedly, and as always, he is overreacting. “Thought your dead, man. Good to finally see you suffer too much from stupidity, brokenheartedness, and dumbass. You look like shit!” Patrick starts his speech and as I expected.

"No. I'm not" he objected. He was definitely drunk. It showed through the way he wobbled while walking and his breath and body had the strong smell of alcohol. "Yes you are and you're gonna lie down here and sleep" I replied "you won't remember any of this shit tomorrow" I mumbled and helped in taking off his shoes. "I have a party to get to, Cupcake" Hr mumbled "And the krabby patties are escaping" Wait, did he just say krabby patty? I'm so gonna make fun of him for his tomorrow.

“Not unless they serve alcohol at one of these places.” My stomach rumbled, and Olivia smiled when she heard it. “You’ll have to settle for good old carbonation, Pat. Do you want greasy, subpar pizza or badly made Jersey subs?” Patrick adjusted his grip on the bags. The ones with the wreaths were large, and compared to the few small bags Olivia and I carried, he was shouldering the bulk of our haul. “Whatever,” he said. “I’m not picky. As long as I can put these bags down and scratch my damn nose.”

Crab. "How disgusting! I think she is around our age and she still plays with that stuff? Does she not feel embarrassed?" The boy with a long face said. Let's call him Squidward. "Maybe her parents didn't teach her that only three years old carry that stuff." Mr. Crab said. He whispered something to the chubby kid in their group. Let's call him...Patrick. Patrick smiled wickedly at me, making his chubby cheeks quiver. He then said, " Then let's teach her a lesson."

"Chicken parmesan. Pasta primavera. And for the children, we have—" "CHICKEN NUGGETS?" Alexander's eyes light up. "I was going to say grilled chicken breast with—" "NUGGETS!" "—brown rice and steamed vegetables." Alexander's face falls. "That's not chicken nuggets." "It's chicken. In nugget-adjacent form." "That's FALSE ADVERTISING!" "Alexander," Kyle says. The warning tone. "Patricia is doing her job. You'll eat what she brings you and you'll say thank you."