Spongebob Sarcasm Novels & Stories

“What’s wrong with looking for SpongeBob?” He’s fighting a smile. I can see it in the way his mouth twitches. “Nothing, if that’s your thing. I’m sure I could find you a SpongeBob centre. T-shirts. Balloons. A life-sized mascot, too. Just say the words and it’s all yours.” “No thanks,” I say, pulling down the sun visor and flipping open the mirror. I check my reflection and, thankfully, my anxiety didn’t melt my mascara. “I’m more of a Squidward girl.”

“So how do you know that they are actually overrated?” “I know I haven’t started,” he responds. “Oh, so you do,” I answer sarcastically before repeating my first question. “Then how do you know volcanoes are overrated?” "They just are,” he says with a shrug. My tone is playful when I respond, sarcasm coating it too. “Excellent scientific reasoning, Theo. Aren’t you a genius?” He shoots me a look that communicates that he clearly doesn’t believe what I just said — even though it’s clearly sarcastic. “I got it from you."

I grit out. "Oohh, I am so scared." She fake shudders then laughs. "You think I am scared of you?" She saunters forward, "You are nothing compared to me. You are just trash and you need to be thrown into the trash truck." Real mature, Natasha. You get insults out of SpongeBob SquarePants cartoons. How original. "Now listen. I don't have time for you or your useless conversations, so I'm going to say it again, slowly this time. Get. The. Fuck. Out. Of. My. Way." I growl

"And keep the haters in their dusty corners." And with that, I sauntered in. Hello people,I smiled, throwing My little white hair with a wink. I waved up! The box of cupcakes I had brought in like it was a Peace accord from a glittering kingdom. "Cupcakes, darlings! With love and a bit too much frosting!" Sue blinked at me like I was an alien. We'd been Squidward and SpongeBob for weeks now—me, grumpy and frazzled; her, contagiously sunny. So when she burst out laughing and swept me into a hug, I came close to gasping.

She looked at him, blinking twice with pouted lips. "What?" "How the hell are you enjoying this?" he asked. "Huh?" "How can there be fire underwater? A car crashes into them, and they get up the next second. SpongeBob sliced himself into pieces, and a snail… the snail meowed! It’s not a fucking cat! And Patrick literally swallowed his own brain and laughed. How the fûck Sandy able to stay underwater? And what’s a rocket doing under the—" Morticia’s laughter cut him off, echoing through the room as Klaus stared at her seriously, only making her laugh harder.

Sarcasm evident in my words *Just hurry up* *Fine* I replied and as I was about to keep my phone back into its rightful place I bumped into someone and my hot cocoa slipped from my hand unto the floor "We have to stop meeting like this cupcake" Only one human being in the world called me that. "Sorry about your hot cocoa though. At least it didn't spill all over your shirt" he said with an amused look on his charming face. Maybe if I ignore him he'll go away

you know, the same old shit a Mr Crabs would do while a workaholic SpongeBob did the hard work. I guess I was SpongeBob. I was a workaholic. I was usually if not always the last person to leave the bag and it had soon become a norm with everyone comfortable about it. I for one, wasn't bothered though, it's not like I had someone at home to go to.

I whispered, and I stepped aside to hear Six properly. "WHAT HAPPENED?" I asked Six loudly and my heartbeat seemed to speed up. "I was just going to ask what channel here on TV is that spongebob?" my shoulder slowly dropped at Six's pointless question, is he serious? Doesn't he know how scary it is to see someone calling because Tabitha is with him. "That's really why you called?" I kept asking, "Ahm yes, and I felt weird earlier like something bad was happening there so I called" he said.

He was substantially larger than the other two, so the way he glared down at me gave me a seriously bad vibe. "I'm sorry," I said, regaining my voice, but being careful to keep my usual sarcasm and cynicism out of it. Sardonicism was not the way to handle this situation. "Does the way I speak offend you in any way?" "You sassin' me? 'Cause the last person who sassed me and my friends got their face punched so hard, their nose looked like putty," the final goon, a black-haired, blue-eyed monstrosity, replied, his words slurred and grammatically incorrect. I looked over that fact though, thinking it wouldn't be wise if I pointed out his wrongs involving grammar.

She did have a thing for dealing with every situation with sarcasm. His eyebrow went up unable to read the sarcasm in her voice. He wondered why that would be a reason for her to shed tears. "Why would that make you cry? It's not your fault, it's just the way pigs were made" he said with seriousness as if he was teaching a kindergarten. Jessica couldn't believe that he thought that was why she was crying. His childishness and naivety made her wonder. How could a grown man who headed a company does not even know when she was being sarcastic?