SquarePants!
- "Sure is a nice day for a picnic."
"Oh, Herb, it's like a second honeymoon."
"Just look at Timmy and Sally
throwing the ol' disc around."
"Come on and throw it, sis."
"I just want to say, I'm gonna be real sad
when you go off to college."
"Oh, Sally, don't be such a goof!
You know I'll always be your big brother."
"Is it starting to rain?"
"Nothing can spoil this perfect day."
"What's the matter, big brother?
Got something in your eye?"
"Yeah, that's it. That must be it."
"Ha, ha, now who's the goof?
"Just watch out because here it comes.
Yay!"
- Oh, what now?
Too much whee-ing.
What is—Oh! Pickle juice!
Oh, my eye!
- I smell something burning.
- Yeah, probably my eye.
- Oh, stop your drama, Squidward.
- You missed a spot.
- What in the name of Neptune's tail fin
is going on in here, boy?
- Oh, I'm playing picnic with my wonderful
little food friends, Herb and Loretta.
These are their kids, Timmy and Sally.
- Mm-hmm.
Sounds to me like yer just
wasting me precious ingredients.
Listen, SpongeBob, just 'cause there's no
customers doesn't mean you can't do something productive.
- Like what, Mr. Krabs?
- Well, I mean, you could—
Oh, you could dust the pickles.
Could, um, alphabetize the buns.
Uh, you could, uh, water down the ketchup!
- At this point, it would be ketchuping up the water.
- Whatever.
Now if these little fellers could work,
maybe you'd be onto something.
Hey, you couldn't make me a tiny little army
of unpaid workers, could you?
- Oh, I could try.
Here's a little worker.
We'll call him Pete.
Hi, Pete!
Hey, what's wrong with Pete?
He's not working.
- Maybe Pete is just tired.
- Well, now, that shouldn't interfere with Pete's work.
- Well, I don't know, Mr. Krabs.
I guess it might affect his productivity.
No, not his productivity!
- Hey, maybe if Pete could go on a picnic
like the Patty family, he might be rested
and happy and more productive than ever!
No.
Not leaving the workplace for pleasure!
- Hey! Maybe Pete's boss could have a company picnic
and Pete would have a great time and relax
and come back and work twice as hard.
- Company picnic?
- See, look! He's already perking up.
- Gee, SpongeBob, do you think if I threw a picnic,
your productivity would increase?
- Definitely! - What's going on in here?
- Just in time, Mr. Squidward.
You're about to go on the greatest
company picnic ever!
- Yeah!
- A company picnic, eh?
That gives me an idea.
- This is the greatest company picnic ever?
- Yes. Yes, it is.
- Pace yourself, Squidward.
The fun is just getting started.
- Is this toilet paper we're sitting on?
- Oh, don't think of it as just toilet paper.
It has thousands of uses.
- Here's one!
- Well, I guess things will pick up
once the food gets here.
- Right, you are!
Here's the food!
- What?
- Oh, you're confused.
Let me show you a little hack.
See, you open it with your teeth.
There, isn't that fun?
And afterwards, you can toss it around like, uh—
You know, one of those things you toss around.
Here, let me show you.
Go out for a long one, SpongeBob.
- Going long!
- Oh, this is so much fun.
Is this far enough?
- I can't hear what you're saying.
So...
Here it comes!
- Agh!
- Hmm.
Heh, I don't see it anywhere.
- I'm going home.
- Oh, no, you're not.
You're going to sit right there and enjoy yourself
until your productivity increases.
- Oh, boy! Face painting!
Great idea, Mr. Krabs.
Ah.
Here, let me try.
Uh-huh...
Hi, I'm Barnacle Boy!
- Well, we sure had our fun and games today.
But just maybe, we've learned a little something too
about each other and ourselves.
I guess you'd have to say this was the greatest...
- Do not say it. - The greatest compa—
- Don't!
- The greatest company picnic ever!
Well, looks like we've got company.
- Well, Mr. Krabs, it is a company picnic.
- Well, this is more like it.
You've been holding out on us, Mr. Krabs, you old devil.
- I have?
Oh, yeah, hmm...
- "Chumpany Picnic"?
That's not how you spell "company picnic"!
- Guess who?
- Plankton.
- Just what do you think you're doing, Plankton?
- Uh, what do you mean?
I'm having my company picnic.
This is our spot.
- Oh, yeah?
Well, it's my spot now.
- Come now, can't we all just share?
Nothing should spoil this perfect day.
- Aw...
- You don't even have any employees.
- Aw... - Sure, I do.
Those are my new hires, Simmy and Tally.
Just look at them tossing the disc around.
- A real disc?
- Ha, go on, SpongeBob.
Show this upstart how we chuck the old
mustard plate around.
- Well, eh...
- You're all welcome to join us, of course.
There's plenty of fun for all!
- Uh, no thanks, Plankton.
We're having a great time at our own company picnic.
- Hey, Plankton, what are Simmy and Tally up to?
- Oh, just setting up the rest of the activities:
the cotton candy machine,
hot roasted peanuts,
games of chance,
bottles you can knock over to win a prize,
the world's most exciting roller coaster,
a deep fryer for delicacies...
- Delicacies?
- And of course, the dunking booth!
Uh, have you seen the calliope?
- Aw...
- Now look here, Plankton.
Me loyal employees would never be taken in
by such a shallow display of—
- One side, chubby!
- Yum...
Is this backwards?
No, that's not it either.
- You were saying, Krabs?
- Mr. Krabs is right, Plankton.
We're having lots of fun. Come on, Mr. Krabs.
- SpongeBob, would you mind helping me with my zipper?
- Whoo-hoo-hoo! Ha, ha!
- Who needs them, right, Mr. Krabs?
- Huh? Yeah, yeah, sure.
- Whoo-hoo-hoo-hoo!
- Do you want me to paint your face?
- Well, I don't know—
- All right.
I'm making you into, um, a ghost.
- Ooh, I think this mayo has gone bad.
- Ooh, the ghost of mayonnaise bad!
That really scares people.
- Yeah.
- Whoa. Stop.
That is almost too much cotton candy.
- You want to join in all that fun over there
with Mr. Squidward, don't you?
- No, of course not.
- Are you sure you don't want to?
- Mr. Krabs, I am staying right here
at the Krusty Krab picnic!
- You sure? - 100% sure, Mr. Krabs!
- Okay, then. I'm out of here!
See ya! Yahoo!
I win!
You can never have too many!
Hey, Squiddy-bird!
- Whoo...
Having lots of fun over here.
I've got a plate...
that's made of paper.
It's a paper plate. Whoo.
Well, if it's good enough for Mr. Krabs,
it's good enough for me.
- I have to say, Mr. Plankton, if this is how
you treat your employees—
- Say no more, my friend.
If you'd care to work for me, just sign this contract
with this delicious candy pen.
- Ooh, me first! Me first!
- Oh, don't bother to read it, not on such a fun day.
- That's such great advice!
- This is working far better than I planned.
With Krabs as my employee, I can order him
to give me the Krabby Patty formula,
and the Krusty Krab will be no more.
Hello, Plankton.
- Uh-oh.
- Mr. Krabs, don't sign it!
- My candy pen!
Simmy, look out!
There's a candy pen headed straight for your eye
due to my act of swatting it away without first
considering the trajectory.
Oh, I wish I could get my words out faster, but everything
is in slow motion.
No!
Simmy and Tally are holograms?
Then that means...
- I was riding that?
What about those delicacies I was eating?
Phew, that was a close—
Ah!
You saved me, boy.
How did you do it?
- I guess my mind was all sharp from the relaxing fun
I had at your company picnic, Mr. Krabs.
- Unbelievable!
Uh-oh...
- The greatest company picnic ever!
- All right, enough relaxing, back to work.
Nope, nothing.
I can't smell a cent or a dollar or any money
in a five-mile radius.
We might as well shut her down early.
- Eee!
- Just as soon as that guy finishes his meal.
- You mean the guy who's been nursing a single fry
for the last hour?
- When he goes, you can go.
- Excuse me, sir, but you seem to be
having trouble masticating.
Here, let me help you.
- [chewing noises and grunting]
- What, no tip?
Finally, yes!
Leaving early,
I can't believe this is finally happening.
'Cause it's not.
- Oh, my.
That's quite a storm.
You know, a storm like this puts me in the mind
of me old Navy days.
- Old Navy days? Ooh!
- That gives me a fine idea, SpongeBob.
Since it looks like we're gonna be stuck here a while,
why don't you pull up a barrel, me laddies,
while I regale you with a thrilling tale
of me mysterious, salty past.
There now, the lights are properly dimmed.
Feast yourself on these slightly expired
soda crackies as I spin you a yarn that puts
hair on your chest.
- I don't want any hair on my chest.
- Ooh, I do.
- It was a day just like this one.
The wind was howling!
And me ship was being tossed about
like a ragdoll on a trampoline.
I was in the galley, cooking up grub
for me crew to keep their mind off this horrible squall.
It was just then that he burst into the galley!
- Who he?
- The man whose mission was to make my life
a living nightmare.
The roughest, toughest, scaliest old barnacle
that ever roamed the briny deep.
He was me commanding officer
and he loathed me with the white hot hatred
of a psychotic madman!
They called him "Captain Scarfish"!
- Hello!
- Stand at attention, Mr. Krabs.
I want you to tell me the meaning of this.
- Oh, that, sir?
Why, sir, that's a sea cucumber sandwich, sir,
with the crusts cut off, sir.
A little booshee amusee for the boys, sir.
- This is the Navy, son.
We don't cut the crusts off.
We eat the crusts and throw the rest away.
- But that's— that's madness.
I'm telling you for the last time,
you're gonna have to stop making your food so delicious!
- But I don't know how!
- Well, you better figure it out.
I need my men wild-eyed and hungry, Krabs.
We've got a cargo hold full of suntan lotion, and—
- Wait.
You were transporting suntan lotion?
What SPF?
- I don't see what's so amusing about that,
Mr. Squidward.
We were a cargo ship
heading straight into pirate territory
with a fresh supply of suntan lotion
for shipwrecked sailors whose skin was chafed.
- Chafed, Mr. Squidward!
- Chafed! - Chafed!
- Aye, sir, I understand, sir! Chafed.
- So tonight's meal is gonna be terrible,
you understand me? - Aye, sir.
- The worst you've ever made! - Aye, aye, sir.
- The kind of slop that'll
put some steel in their spines! - Aye, aye, sir!
- Either that, or I'll throw you in the brig!
- Yes, sir.
Huzzah!
- Oh, don't huzzah yet, boys.
- What's on the menu tonight, eh?
- Slop.
- Oh, slop, eh? Good one!
Why don't you put some of that delicious slop
right here on my—
Oh, I bet it's one of those things that looks bad,
but it tastes really—
Bad.
- Sorry, boys.
Oh, Captain's orders.
- Oh, I can't stand it!
I don't care what the Captain says.
Huzzah!
Huzzah for Mr. Krabs!
Huzzah!
- What's all this huzzah-ing about?
- Oh, nothing, sir.
They just really enjoy eating slop.
Don't you, boys?
- Attention!
Hmm...
Looks like slop, all right.
But what's this?
- Cherries jubilee. Cherries jubilee!
- Cherries jubilee?
- Well, flaming cherries jubilee.
- Flaming? What are you trying to pull, you lubber?
This looks like regular cherries jubilee.
- Well, you see, sir, I was just gonna
take this here match and—
And so I found meself in the brig
with two guards watching me every move.
The one was as brutal and ugly a bounder
as you'd ever wish to see in your darkest nightmare.
- Garr, what are you looking at?
- But I thought I could dupe the other one,
should the need arise.
Gee, Mr. Krabs, that second guard sounds like
a real goofball!
- I managed to worm some useful information
out of him right away.
You see, he was an aspiring cook.
And I talked him into sneaking some things
down into the brig for me— the tools of me trade,
you might say.
I set him to work on a spun-sugar cathedral
that took up most of his attention.
He never suspected that I was using the scraps
to fashion a candy key.
Where's your sourpuss friend tonight?
- Sick in bed, like all the men.
The captain's been feeding them nothing but moldy
old sandwich crusts.
They've all got terrible belly-aches.
Not me, though.
I cook for myself.
- Wise lad.
- And so, after a few hours
of bouncing off the walls,
the sugar finally wore off.
And soon, he was napping like a baby.
This was me chance to use me sweet key to freedom!
But did I dare take it?
I'd be in violation of the Naval Code.
Then something happened that made me mind up for me.
Pirates!
We were under attack!
I had to act fast.
Wake up, lad, wake up!
Man your battle stations!
I was on me own.
I could see it all, a pirate ship,
and on that island, a crew of fine Naval men.
Our only hope, marooned on a beach
by those same scurvy pirates and suffering
from the effects of chafe, sunburn!
The pirates had already launched a boat
and were preparing to board our vessel.
- Row, you worthless dogs!
- Stand down, Krabs.
I'll have you in irons!
- Listen to me, Captain.
This is gonna get real ugly, real fast.
We've got to get to the cannons.
- We're not outfitted for battle, Krabs.
There's no ammunition.
The cannons are ornamental at best.
Ornamental at best!
- Then listen carefully.
You'll have to go down to the cargo hold
and poke holes in the barrels of suntan lotion
and scuttle the ship.
- What you're suggesting is mutiny!
- Do as he says, Captain.
- What are you using for ammo there, ensign?
- Oh, I rolled up an old moldy sandwich crust
into a hard little ball.
- That's it! Come with me, lad!
Direct hit! Huzzah!
- You'll pay for that.
Get him, boys!
- Uh, what do I do?
- Get down to the cargo hold and check on the captain.
Charge!
Close one!
- Ah, he's kind of handsome for a crusty old cuss.
I can't do it. I'm weak.
- Snap out of it, man!
- Ew.
- My personality!
- Oops, uh, let me put that back.
Missed me!
Uh-oh.
Uh, anyone for cherries jubilee?
- Finish him off!
Huzzah for Mr. Krabs!
- Ha, ha, the sunburn brigade!
Ha, ha, me plan worked!
- Handsome and clever, I see.
Join me, Krabs.
We'll rule the seven seas together.
- I can't let you go, lass.
I'd be in violation of the naval code.
Enjoy your last meal.
I hope you like spun sugar.
- Huh?
Oh...
- What are we all winking about?
- I don't know!