Mr. Krabs Novels & Stories

Just like what is happening right now! “Good afternoon, ladies,” beamed Jack , who is smiling at us as if he went straight from a Disney Movie as Prince Charming. “It is great to see you, three, again!” I smiled at him, it was genuine. I tried to be as genuine as I can be because apparently, this is his treat to us. The least that I can do is to be nice with him. “It is great to see you too, Jack,” Shane started and then she continued it with, “AND this gigantic and delicious King Crab in front of us. My mouth is waterfalling because of it!”

I don't want to conclude yet, but my guts are never wrong. This man, my boss. Javan Torres. He is fucking creepy.

“He threatened us. We didn’t help him, Kyla! We just—we were trying to survive.” “Lies,” said a squeaky, very judgmental voice from the doorway. Mr. Yellow. Leaning against the frame with a carrot-shaped satchel and smugness radiating from every whisker. “I knew they smelled funny,” he said. “So I dispatched the Crisp Crusaders.” Behind him appeared a line of very serious-looking vegetables: Greg the Potato, muddy and wise. Broccolini, leafy, twitchy, and full of fight. And Carrotini, stylish, slender, and packing a glowing mini sword strapped to her leafy belt.

Was she really serious when she had said all the feelings she had for me were gone? Did she even love me in the first place? True to my words, the spot was perfect—the right mix of jazz music and dim lights. From the look in her eyes, I knew I had hit the mark with this one, and that little knowledge gave me so much delight. “I would advise that you try the Crab King special. A whole crab made with prawns and spaghetti. It's their bestseller here,” I said, wondering if that would impress her. She just nodded slightly, placed her order, and went back to looking around the bar.

Opal "Pass the syrup, please, Mr. Sebastian!" Oliver announced proudly, sliding a plastic bottle across the sticky kitchen table. "His name is not Mr. Sebastian, Oliver," Grayson muttered without looking up from his bowl of oatmeal. "The syrup bottle doesn't have a beard or an umbrella. You're being ridiculous."

Removing his suit and hanging it on the hanger, he walked inside the house elegantly. Chris rushed down to welcome him right away. “Daddy, you’re finally back! You’re in luck today! Mommy is in a good mood, and she cooked us a pot of pepper crabs!” Anthony frowned. A pot of pepper crabs? Could crabs be eaten that way? Who would cook crabs with pepper? Was Charmine uneducated? At that moment, Charmine brought out a pot of pepper crabs, grinning at both Chris and Anthony. “Oh, dear. I was playing with my phone and forgot to keep a close eye on it. It’s overcooked…”

"You promised lunch, Mr. Sica, going back on your word only proves my theory about CEOs quite accurate." "Oh, it's quite the opposite actually Miss. Alva." He explained with glee. "I was going to take you somewhere fancy until you chose to dress like a nun. I can't have the tabloids saying I am dating some prude country girl." You have got this, I told myself. I fucking got this and I did until my phone suddenly chimed from the confines of my grip. I looked at the ID and let out a sigh of surprise. Ruby. "Hello,"

everyone gasped in surprise including Maverick a dime I look at them with a big frown and questioned " What? Why are all of you making a big deal out of it? It's just food" " You're not getting it. It's not just food but a treasure for all of us. People die to even get a glimpse of him and you're saying he cooked this food. I don't how many billions I can load into my account if I put this food in the auction. Do you know Theodore is the number one chef on our continent? He's rewarded by many national and international governmental food organisations. And he cooks only for rare people " It's Kiara who explained everything. To confirm her words I looked at Maverick who nod his head as yes.

"Is this Mr crabby?" Lucas shook his head, chuckling, "No princess, this is not Mr. Crabby." "Mr. Crabby is way smaller," Aiden noted, he had no problem eating. He held Elmo next to him, as he tried to stuff some cheese down the poor canine's throat. I made a mental note to get some real dog food on our way back home. "But it looks like him," she got to her feet and raced to the sandcastle, possibly to make sure it was not her dear new friend laid out as lunch for us.