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Rated PG-13 - Parents Strongly Cautioned

This article is rated PG-13, meaning it contains content that may be inappropriate for readers under 13.
Objectionable content includes: strong violence, threat and horror

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Season 1, Episode {{{number}}}
[[Survivors|250px]]
Written by JellyfishJam38
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Survivors is the second episode of SpongeBob: Infection. The plot revolves around the gang searching for a shelter to drop off Mr. Krabs, which proves troublesome, as the initally-welcoming shelter becomes home to arguments, fights, storms, and a very angry zombie horde.

Transcript

  • (The episode starts with a close-up on Mr. Krabs' closed, baggy eyes. As they open, revealing them to be very bloodshot and sleep-filled, the scene pans out to show him sprawled on the floor in his house, empty bottles of alcohol strewn everywhere. He jerkily gets up, kicking over a bottle of rum as he stumbles.)
  • Mr. Krabs: What the hell happened? I'm not usually too in... inebriated to remember things. (pauses and tries to think) Meh... it probably wasn't important. Well, apart from the fact that there are eighteen empty two-litre b-bottles on the ground. (He shuffles onto a half-tipped over couch, and switches on the television, to see nothing but static, and a faint, muffled noise. A puzzled countenance crosses Mr. Krabs' face as he begins switching channels, each which yields the same result - although the sound gets louder each time.) This is why I shouldn't - (a loud, piercing scream sounds from the TV, along with a faint tearing sound. Mr. Krabs gulps and turns off the TV, beads of sweat forming around his forehead and back. He makes a slightly lopsided dash for his door.) I guess I should stop being so oblivious and find out what re... really happened that n-night. (Just as he makes a movement to push the door open, he lets out a feeble, frightened whimper and starts hyperventilating. He tries to extinguish his fears by repeating a motivational mantra, but just as he begins to speak, his words come out garbled and unintelligible. It seems as if he has finally figured out the true scale of last night's crisis, as he slumps down against his door, in tears.) I remember... they said... an infection... infected... zombies. (Wiping his volcanically pouring eyes, his weight pushes the door open, revealing the yellow, cracked streets of Bikini Bottom. As Mr. Krabs stares at the rubble, his mouth agape, the screen freeze-frames.)
  • (Theme song plays)
  • (After the theme song, the scene cuts to a wide shot of the gang walking out of the Barg 'n' Mart. Squidward is wringing the blood out of his shirt, Patrick is staring blankly into the darkness, and SpongeBob and Sandy are talking to each other.)
  • SpongeBob: I remember the days when we used to play karate, go to the movies and catch jellyfish together... back then, it would never even cross our minds that something like this would happen.
  • Sandy: Those were the days. (she silently sheds a tear) To think this hasn't even been happening for a week, and already our past lives seem further away than ever. I've come from a happy-go-lucky, slightly crazy squirrel, to a bloodstained shell of my former self, all in the course of two days. We're all different people now, and not necessarily better ones.
  • SpongeBob: But you've got something to live for. I don't think the Infection has spread to Texas yet, and you've got a whole family over there. There's a more-than-likely chance that they'll be alive and waiting to meet you again. My family... I haven't heard from them ever since the news broadcast. And, trust me, they contact me bi-daily, if not more than that. I'm just hoping it's because of the resulting power outages rather than... (gulps) anything else.
  • Sandy: While studying the corpse of one of the zombies, I found one of the bugs responsible for the disease crawling around in its skin. It seemed to have been mutated so that it was able to survive in water and dry land. With the rate the virus was eating through Bikini Atoll, I'd say it will reach the US in a few days.
  • SpongeBob: But, how is this virus passed around exactly?
  • Sandy: It's quite similar to something in a zombie film, to the best of my understanding. The zombie's bloodstream is filled with these super-viruses, and when a major wound, especially a bite, is opened on a victim's body by one, some of the viruses are implanted inside the wound, which quickly spread and eat away at the victim's systems, rendering them a mindless, flesh-craving vegetable. (pause) Be glad you have me, my observance will save you.
  • (Squidward puts his shirt, which is no longer dripping, back on, and joins in with the conversation. Patrick is still scanning the scenery for dangers. As Squidward opens his mouth, Patrick quickly and loudly interjects, as he sees two distant zombies chasing a fish.)
  • Patrick: We have two zombies on the right side. I repeat, we have two zombies on the right side!
  • Squidward: Patrick, I don't think you're making it clear that we left our weapons at Barg 'n' Mart. As scrawny and weak as these two look, they could easily make a meal of us.
  • Patrick: They are hot on someone else's trail, which could give us more of a chance.
  • SpongeBob: Forget it, Patrick. Your motivational words are often disproportionate to the situation we're actually in. We've all faced firsthand the difficulty in killing these creatures. Do you really think we can kill two zombies by punching them?
  • Sandy: I'd say our best bet is to stay as far away as possible.
  • Patrick: Do you really want an innocent life to be taken just because you're too cowardly to march up to a zombie and put up a fight?
  • Squidward: It's one innocent life versus four innocent lives.
  • (Patrick grinds his teeth, annoyed by the argument brewing up among the gang. He marches off by himself.)
  • Patrick: Fine, I'm going by myself, you cowards.
  • (As he fades away into the distance, SpongeBob begins to show a look of worry on his face.)
  • SpongeBob: What has Patrick gotten himself into? His newfound optimism is beginning to be... scary in a way.
  • Sandy: I don't know what this epidemic has done to him. He just thinks that he's an unstoppable force that can defeat anything using any means. Remember his speech? That was the first sign. It's no longer if we die, we die as heroes anymore though, it's we won't die.
  • Squidward: If someone's lulling you into a false sense of security, you shouldn't trust them, plain and simple.
  • Sandy: Don't say things like that. It's just that the stress has mentally changed him. We should still trust him to some extent; I just think it's not a good sign that he's gaining this sort of complex, it could soon progress to outright insanity.
  • (The scene cuts to Patrick walking slowly towards the zombies, who are chasing the victim, whose face still hasn't been seen, around in a circle. He begins muttering words to himself.)
  • Patrick: Stupid people... destroying my hopefulness... I'll show them... yeah...
  • (the zombies leave the other fish alone, and chase after him) Come and get it, zombies!
  • (he picks up and throws a rock, which hits one of the zombies' chests, bruising it, but causing no further damage. As the zombies get closer, he continues firing rocks, which prove to be entirely useless. One zombie advances on him, and knocks him to the ground. We see it looming over him from Patrick's point of view, and as the zombie puts his mouth to Patrick's arm, we see a knife emerge from the zombie's chest, along with a splatter of blood. It falls down unconscious, and as the view switches back to third-person, Patrick gets up, to see that the zombies were chasing Mr. Krabs, who has a sweaty and terrified face.)
  • Mr. Krabs: I don't think it's dead.
  • Patrick: Trust me, you'd know if a zombie was dead. It takes a lot more than a single stab.
  • Mr. Krabs: (somewhat garbled and alcohol-wracked) I didn't know that all of this happened... it came as such a surprise. The day it was announced, I must have been drunk off my head. I woke up this morning with a dozen-and-a-half empty bottles in my house and a massive hangover. My TV wasn't working, and there was a weird screaming sound coming from it. I figured that maybe the source was coming from outside, so I followed my natural instincts. Then, zombies. Nothing but zombies. Zombies everywhere. The only weapon I had was a knife, and I couldn't kill anything with it. They just kept coming back up, no matter how many hits I gave them. I ran off as far as I could... and ended up here.
  • Patrick: I, frankly, don't know who I am anymore. I just abandoned my gang and ran off to kill those two zombies unarmed. One moment I'm normal, and then, I have spells like that. I think I'm going crazy.
  • Mr. Krabs: I went crazy a long time ago. Alcohol has already destroyed my life and personality... what else is there to destroy?
  • (The zombie raises its arm to get back up, and just as Mr. Krabs aims the knife to strike again, Patrick grabs him on the arm and runs back to the gang with him. The zombies are confused by the sight of the two running, and stumble away. Slowing down due to exhaustion, the two begin to jog through the expanse of the small desert area instead of running. They finally come across the rest of the gang, who seem displeased at the presence of Mr. Krabs.)
  • Squidward: Oh look, the Master of Misdirection has brought back Mr. Krabs, of all people... (he sighs)
  • Sandy: I see you didn't kill the zombie. And, seriously, will having a depressed, sexist alcoholic on board really help relieve our tension?
  • SpongeBob: I normally wouldn't say this to someone who's been there for me my whole life, but, my God, you've outdone yourself in stupidity this time. First you ditch and insult us, then you fail to do what you promised to do, then... (he points to Mr. Krabs) Is there anyone who actually likes him, after all he's done?
  • (Patrick breaks down in tears as the group continue to bring him down.)
  • Patrick: Is... picking at every flawed decision of... a man who's just snapped... r-r-really the right thing to do? I... I admit I shouldn't have... attempted to kill those zombies... or insulted you... but everyone deserves a second chance, Mr. Krabs included. You guys are relatively untroubled and sane, but I just... couldn't handle the abrupt change... in lifestyle, so I pretended that... ev-everything was alright... which broke me... turned me into this thing.
  • SpongeBob: I apologize for the outburst, and I'm pretty sure Sandy and Squidward feel the same. It's just we don't appreciate someone making our path even more troublesome, and potentially leading us to our deaths. And, Mr. Krabs... I'm sure that everyone's had some sort of bad experience involving him. I'm undecided on whether he should stay with us permanently, but we'll take him in until he tries something fishy.
  • Sandy: I second that plan, but to further prevent any of his... erm, incidents, we should all stay sober. Honestly, if we pack even the most well-hidden bottle of alcohol, Mr. Krabs will find it, and he will drink it.
  • Patrick: Meh, I've got no problems with that, judging that I swore sobriety a long time ago. I don't actually have a problem with Mr. Krabs, he seems to be quite a nice guy underneath his extensive lust and alcoholism. Recently, we've had many a friendly discussion together.
  • Squidward: Maybe we could keep him with us until we find a hospitable, populated shelter for him to live. I mean, it would be despicable and deplorable if we left him for dead, but, excluding Patrick, no-one can stand the guy. I think he'd be in better hands somewhere else, for his and our sake. Is that okay, Krabs?
  • Mr. Krabs: O-okay. But is there really a chance of there being a hospitable, populated shelter among all this rubble?
  • SpongeBob: Hmmm... it could be so.
  • Squidward: Think about it, in practically every single zombie movie, there's some sort of shelter for the protagonists to hide in, which keeps them safe from the zombie horde. There are many places in Bikini Bottom which could be utilized for this purpose. Something fortified, very tall, or underground would do.
  • Sandy: What the hell are we waiting for? Let's go find ourselves a shelter, before Mr. Krabs tries anything out.
  • Squidward: Okay. Patrick, you're on watch again. Tell us if you see anything that we could potentially use.
  • Patrick: Sounds like a plan. (He squints into the distance, as the gang keep walking on.)
  • SpongeBob: Have you spotted anything yet?
  • Patrick: I'm being as vigilant as possible, but so far nothing of importance is in my line of sight.
  • (The scene shifts to time-lapse format, showing the characters walking and searching at a much more accelerated speed. As the scene quickens to an even greater speed, it suddenly stops and returns to real time.)
  • Patrick: Possible shelter detected. Should we go and investigate?
  • (The camera moves a bit further to show a hole in the ground, with what looks like spikes and barricades dotted artfully around it.)
  • Squidward: It doesn't look too promising, or too much like a shelter even. Last time I checked, a shelter was a structure or building that provides cover from weather or protection against danger, not a hole with a few spears around it.
  • Patrick: I don't think the spears would be put together in such a delicate and intricate pattern if that hole had no purpose. Even if you are correct and the hole serves no obvious purpose, we should still examine it.
  • Squidward: I don't expect to find anything, yet I agree that we should still inspect.
  • (The five walk towards the hole, Mr. Krabs reluctantly and questioningly trudging behind, with Squidward not too far forward. Patrick, who is at the front of the line, stops next to the hole. The camera pans around it, showcasing bloodstained spikes, poles, spears, saw blades and bear traps above lines of butchered zombies.)
  • Sandy: So many zombies... there wouldn't be so many dead ones here unless they smelled people down there. Let's advance down that hole, but we should remain extra-careful, lest we end up like that sorry sucker. (She points to a zombie laying in pieces on the blood-covered ground, next to a running propeller embedded in the sand. Sandy carefully climbs down the hole, shocked to see a professional-looking staircase going straight down the width of the excavation.) Everybody, come down. The way is safe.
  • (The remaining four in the gang walk down the stairway with Sandy, to find a door next to a bear trap. Just as Patrick is about to tread on it, Sandy bends down, deactivates it, and cautiously opens the door, awaiting more deadly traps. In single-file, they walk in with Sandy in the lead, and Squidward at the back.)
  • SpongeBob: Hello? (His voice echoes around the vast expanse of the shelter, and is answered by a hooded figure.)
  • Hooded Figure: Welcome. (an unnerving silence sounds after he says this)
  • Mr. Krabs: I'm just asking... is this place actually a zombie shelter, or have we walked into a trap?
  • Patrick: (whispering) Shhh... don't ask that!
  • Hooded Figure: Many visitors to this abode ask the very same question, and the answer is, yes, this is a shelter for survivors to relax without fear of being attacked by the infected. We have many facilities, such as scientific and medical centers, a lounge, hotel-style rooms for two to four people to share, a dining room, a s-
  • Squidward: Actually, we didn't come for those purposes. We came to drop him off. (he points to Mr. Krabs, who makes a weak smile).
  • SpongeBob: No, Squidward. We'll be much safer here; whereas our initial goal was to find a place for Mr. Krabs to live, I believe that living here will benefit us too. Do you want a social, luxury life, or a life out in the open, being chased by zombies?
  • Squidward: I partly agree with you, SpongeBob. It's just that you don't get hailed as a hero if you stay in a shelter all your life.
  • Hooded Figure: Leaving here is almost a death penalty, for the smell of life around here attracts many infected, some of who you can see on our shelter's... exterior. Unless you're expertly trained on how to kill a zombie, and have smarts and a half-decent weapon, you don't stand a goddamn chance.
  • Sandy: Smarts, check. Expert training, nuh-uh. Weapon, nope. Yeah, Squidward, this would be a better place for all of us.
  • SpongeBob: Plus, with all the facilities provided for us, by the end of our stay, we'll most likely have the necessary equipment and tutelage to fight zombies. Don't see this as a punishment, see it as an opportunity.
  • Squidward: I've had enough of you guys forcing me into decisions I haven't entirely agreed upon. I am leaving, whether you like it or not. Yes, I may die, but at least I would have tried, which is more than I can say for you layabouts.
  • (SpongeBob, Sandy and Patrick seem shocked by the greedy and non-negotiating nature of his statement. Squidward starts walking at a steady pace to the door, and Patrick grabs his back, restricting his ability to escape.)
  • Patrick: ...and you said I was crazy.
  • Squidward: I am not crazy, I am just confused that you would display such a disregard for helping Bikini Bottom, and choose to sleep around, not caring about your hometown's plight.
  • Patrick: Fine, leave. One second you insult me due to my moderate mental deterioration, and the next you're behaving exactly in the manner I behave. If you're gonna show such carelessness and recklessness, you won't die a hero. You'll die a thoughtless braggart.
  • (Squidward leaves, scowling and red-faced. The gang, as well as the hooded figure, look at Patrick with expressions halfway between accusative and congratulatory.)
  • SpongeBob: You could have settled that in another manner... but I guess some causes are hard to argue in any other way.
  • Mr. Krabs: I'm betting he'll just come crawling back.
  • Hooded Figure: So, are you actually going to come in the shelter, or just waste time at the entrance adding fuel to petty arguments?
  • Sandy: I guess there's no more time to spare. We should probably go in now.
  • (Sandy walks through the entrance, the others following. At first, all they see is a dark, winding cave, with torches crudely propped around.)
  • SpongeBob: This place looks pretty foreboding. I'm not sure if I'm the biggest fan of this.
  • Sandy: I have a feeling once we get out of this tunnel, things are gonna start lookin' up. For a shelter meant to protect innocent people from the undead, it hasn't been the prettiest sight so far.
  • Mr. Krabs: Come on! You've seen zombies eat people, yet you're complaining about the dark?
  • SpongeBob: We're not complaining, per se, we're just saying this shelter doesn't look like something we should stay too long in.
  • Patrick: Maybe they made the outside look like this to ward off the zombies and fool them into thinking there's no human life.
  • (They continue walking, until Sandy reaches the end of the tunnel.)
  • SpongeBob (calling): This place shaping up?
  • Sandy: Definitely. Even this one room could keep us living for at least a month, if not two. What's more is that -
  • (SpongeBob interrupts, eager to see the first room of the shelter.)
  • SpongeBob: Let me see this.
  • (As he runs through the tunnel's length, he stops at a large, glossy lounge, with music blaring, many sofas, a table with food and drink crowded onto every inch, a large host of people having general fun, and a wood sign unprofessionally pressed into the floor stating "The Party Lounge" in dripping blue paint.)
  • Sandy: Wonderful, ain't it?
  • SpongeBob: Yes, it truly is. Nonetheless, we've got a little problem which may prevent us from enjoying this room. (he subtly points to Mr. Krabs, who is being slowly herded through the end of the tunnel by Patrick, and does not notice SpongeBob's gesture.)
  • Sandy: We need to arrange something fast. I'm not dealing with a drunk Mr. Krabs again, especially after what happened...
  • SpongeBob: What happened?
  • Sandy: Please, I don't want to bring back those memories I repressed for so long. I'll go and speak to whoever leads this shelter about restraining Krabs from this room, while you and Patrick can relax here. (she walks off through another door, as Patrick comes in with Mr. Krabs. He has his arm pressed against Krabs' eyes, to shield him from succumbing to his temptations, however Mr. Krabs is struggling against his grip frantically and violently.)
  • Patrick: Stay put, I'm not letting you - (Patrick yells as Mr. Krabs sinks his teeth into his arm, drawing blood and loosening his grip.)
  • Mr. Krabs: What I do with my life is my priority, not yours. Get the hell off me and leave me alone, you son-of-a-bitch!
  • (Patrick instinctively kicks Mr. Krabs in the stomach and then grabs him again, escorting him outside of the party room.)
  • Patrick: I'm doing this for your own good. Tell me, you'd prefer condemning yourself to a slow suicide than getting sufficient help and flourishing for the remainder of your years?
  • Mr. Krabs: That's the thing though, I can't get help! Depriving me of alcohol would be like cutting off a gravely ill patient's IV line! Quit living in your fantasy world and realize that sh#t happens, like it or not.
  • Patrick: And depriving you of alcohol would also stop you from talking such incessant, nonsensical gibberish. (Patrick continues to frogmarch Mr. Krabs to the door, and at last pushes him through it. Mr. Krabs angrily spits on the ground.)
  • Mr. Krabs: I hate you, you f- (the door is closed by Patrick, which obscures the rest of the word. SpongeBob approaches Patrick, and starts talking to him.)
  • SpongeBob: Hard to deal with, huh?
  • Patrick: (exhales in relief) Yeah, undoubtedly. I learned his true nature the hard way. (he points to the bite in his arm, which has stopped bleeding, but is still reasonably fresh)
  • SpongeBob: Say, now that he's gone, do you think we should hit the party?
  • Patrick: I generally tend to stick to my guns and stay sober, but what problem is a few drinks now and then when the world's been taken over by zombies?
  • SpongeBob: No problem at all. Let's just not try to turn into Mr. Krabs along the way.
  • (Patrick runs to the drinks counter, cracks open a bottle of beer and starts sipping it slowly. SpongeBob joins him, and instead of drinking from the bottle, pours his beer into a glass. As the drink slips down his throat, his pupils dilate. SpongeBob and Patrick look at each other, grins on their faces. Cut to Mr. Krabs, who is charging through the winding and twisting corridors of the shelter, breathing heavily, obviously suffering from heavy withdrawal symptoms. He opens the nearest door he sees unthinkingly, which is marked "OFFICE", to find...)
  • Sandy: So, in conclusion, please, sir, for the love of God, keep Mr. Krabs away from the party room. You give him that buzz, and he can be deadly. (the leader and Sandy turn around to see Mr. Krabs sweating with anger, clenching his claws. He grabs Sandy on the stomach with his claw and slams her to the ground.)
  • Mr. Krabs (in between breaths): As you can see, taking away my alcohol can be as dangerous to your very lives as me drinking to excess. I hope you've learned the values of not pissing me off. Especially you, Sandy.
  • (a top-down shot reveals Sandy with a deep claw mark on her chest oozing blood. She appears to be unconscious but not in danger of death.)
  • Leader: Do you really believe you can brutally attack a habitant of this shelter in front of me and get off scot-free? You made a major misstep. Because of this, and some of what Sandy told me about your past history, I think that I won't just restrict you from the party room. (pause) The mental ward's over there. Try not to kill anyone along the way.
  • (Cut to the party room; the song Brain Stew by Green Day is playing over the scene. SpongeBob and Patrick are drunkenly flailing around on the dancefloor, when Patrick gets up to watch TV, falling over on his way. He sits next to a girl, who is evidently somewhat tipsy too, and the two exchange unheard drunken words of false love. SpongeBob gets off the dancefloor and gets another drink, but the table is now covered by Patrick and the girl. SpongeBob winces, and walks to another area, where he sees a fish with two cigarettes in his mouth holding a pillow. Not understanding what they're doing, the two silently argue with each other over the pillow, the fish coming out on top. The fish starts following SpongeBob for some reason, and hands SpongeBob a cigarette. He refuses, and returns to the dancefloor. Cut back to Patrick, who is putting his shirt back on. Even more drunk than before, he starts ferociously punching the television, and calls SpongeBob to do it too. SpongeBob attempts a less violent approach - dancing on top of the television. Suddenly, Patrick falls asleep, his tongue rolling out of his mouth, and we see from SpongeBob's point of view his vision going blurry, and everything fading to black, even the song, which cuts after the second verse.)
  • (Cut to Mr. Krabs in the mental ward, which is large but dark, and is covered with various medical instruments. Many other committed patients are sitting near Mr. Krabs, which unnerves him.)
  • Mental Patient #1: Lookee here, another patient scraped straight from the bottom of the food chain. You look--
  • (Another patient intervenes in the middle of the first mental patient's possible threat of cannibalism, who is looking to warm Mr. Krabs into it rather than deter him.)
  • Mental Patient #2: Hey there. Don't worry about everybody here, you'll get used to them. (Mr. Krabs looks down at the patient's lower half, which is covered with carved-in dates and numbers, and silently screams, running to the exit and banging frantically on it.)
  • Mr. Krabs: Get me out of here! Get me out of here! I don't want to be with these freaks! I'm still myself! (crying) Please!
  • Mental Patient #2: There are actually--
  • Mr. Krabs: Don't talk to me, you weirdo! I actually want a way out of here, not some false words of reassurance from a guy who cuts dates into his legs!
  • Unknown Mental Patient (from a corner): Let him talk!
  • Mental Patient #2: There are actually some patients here who aren't so, in your terminology, "freaky". Many of us patients are very normal, but were just brought here due to drug problems, attacking someone on a one-off instance, post-traumatic stress, and so on.
  • Mr. Krabs: I'm here because alcohol transformed me into a monster. I worked hard, got a wife, had a kid, owned a million-earning restaurant, but then came the turn of drink. My Pearl disowned me, I divorced my wife, I had to give the Krusty Krab rights to someone else, and every second day I woke up face-down next to the gutter, with all my money wasted on more drink, prostitutes, or worse. And now I'm here, in the middle of a zombie apocalypse, in a mental institution.
  • (The mental patients are emotionally touched by his story, some clap softly and respectfully. A patient who is buff, overweight, missing all his teeth, and has his hands tied behind his back, approaches Mr. Krabs.)
  • Mental Patient #3: Hard life, man.
  • (Mr. Krabs is overwhelmed by the mental patients' surprising warmness, and begins to cry. Cut to Sandy, who is back up on her feet again, and is stitching up the wound in her stomach with a needle and thread in her pocket. A fish walks past, and makes a remark.)
  • Fish: Uh, shouldn't you visit the hospital about that? I wouldn't really advise stitching it up yourself, unless you want an infection.
  • Sandy: Relax. I know how to correctly stitch up a minor wound.
  • (We see Sandy stitch up the last area of the wound in a near-close-up shot. As she walks off, the fish makes another remark.)
  • Fish: I think you should apply for the hospital in this shelter. Looking at the way you professionally stitched up that wound, I'd say you'd make it big.
  • Sandy: Sorry but no thanks. I prefer the ways of combat and science myself, but it's good you regard me highly.
  • (As she continues walking, she notices a ripped-off poster. A close-up shows that most of it is unrecognizable due to it being torn off the wall, but in the corner, the SBAC logo is visible.)
  • Sandy: Oh my God... this used to be the SBAC shelter. I should have remembered that you couldn't build somethin' like this in two days. I hope none of them remain here. (as she continues walking through the corridors, she sees a room labelled "Presentation Room" with "Now Showing: Zombie Slaying 101" written in cursive underneath it. She walks through the door to find a huge host of people watching a man, many dummies, and a screen. She sits on an empty seat, then gets up and wipes some gum off it. Sitting back on the seat, she realizes she's sitting next to SpongeBob and Patrick, who are massively hungover, with black bags under their eyes.)
  • SpongeBob (mildly slurred): Oh, hey there, Sandy. You came here at the right time. This guy's both a scientist and combat expert, and he's going to demonstrate the best methods of killing a zombie, as well as show their weak points.
  • Patrick: I wonder what's been going on with Squidward. As self-serving as he was, I hope the undead haven't taken him into their ranks.
  • Sandy: Shhh, it's beginning!
  • (Grainy, black-and-white archive footage of zombies from various movies, TV shows and games show on the giant screen behind the presenter.)
  • Presenter: Hello everybody, my name is Finn Sharkson, zombie enthusiast, pathologist, biologist, trained combatant. Zombies have been a staple of the media for years, but nobody expected that the plague would transfer into real life. (the footage on the TV screen transitions into footage of zombies prowling the streets of Bikini Bottom and attacking people.) The living dead are killing and turning hundreds of innocent people everyday, and nobody is doing anything to stop the madness, even though they may have the capabilities to take them on. And with my help, you will be more-than-adequately prepared to face the undead menace fearlessly and make the world a better place. (He reaches his arm out to grab a zombie dummy, which has been crafted to look almost like a real zombie, and pulls out a loaded pistol from his pocket.) Part one of victory against the walkers: shooting techniques. When the dead are coming at you from a long range, it's always a good idea to use your trusty gun. You have to have fairly good aim in order to shoot a zombie dead, as the only way to defeat them is by destroying their brain. No matter how much you've screwed up the rest of their body, they won't die until their brain ceases to exist. That being said, shooting lower down can give you an easier shot at the head. (Finn fires his gun at the zombie dummy's head, which deflates and sprays a large amount of pink and red dye. The screen in front of him also shows a zombie being shot in the head.) Sniper rifles are good if there's only one or two zombies near you, but I wouldn't advise using them if there's a large gathering of zombies. They have extremely slow firing rates and only a limited amount of bullets, so unless you have a melee weapon with you, you're essentially screwed. I suggest assault rifles and pistols for best defense against the undead. (He shoots many bullets from an assault rifle at another zombie dummy, which falls back, spurting red dye.) Step two: close-quarters combat. Rumor has it that a mutated zombie, codenamed the 'Zombie King' by our science department, exists deep underground that is immune to gunfire and must be fought closely. This goes for many other zombies; they may not be immune, but melee weaponry is often the best way to approach them.
  • (A time card stating "One Hour Later" is shown, and it cuts back to the presentation, which has finished. Finn is signing autographs while covered in fake blood, while most of the audience are collecting the weapons they need from a very large box. The scene zooms to the mental ward, where a live video of the presentation is being played on TV. The door to the ward opens as one of Finn's assistants comes in with a cart full of weapons. Everybody grabs as many as they possibly can, taking joy in the weapons' looks and feels, but Mr. Krabs simply grabs an assault rifle and runs out of the ward, through the corridors, and into the party room. Finn's assistant is too busy ensuring the patients don't use their weapons for negative purposes to notice.)
  • Mr. Krabs: Finally, where I wanted to be all along. (he picks up three fifths of vodka from the drinks table, gulps a quarter of one down, and turns on the TV, which switches to a red flashing screen stating "WARNING!". A female announcer appears on the screen, who is being filmed on the crow's nest at the top of the shelter, and she loudly and clearly enunciates a severe weather warning.)
  • Announcer: Jennifer Marlin reporting live at the crow's nest, where a large tornado is tearing its way through Bikini Bottom! It could reduce the zombie threat, but it will lessen the already dying population, and may even have the strength and power to rip this shelter out of the ground! (The camera starts bobbing back and forth, the building sound of the wind obscuring Jennifer's words.) Stay down on the lowest floors! (indecipherable) away! Don't hold back or (the wind is at its loudest, rendering the few words she has left to say incomprehensible. Suddenly, the tornado flies at her, hurtling her corpse at the screen with a thud, knocking the camera and presumably the cameraman over. The view from the camera is now cracked and bloody. The TV automatically turns off.)
  • Mr. Krabs: I must be the only person who knows about this. If I'm following my expectations, everyone else is still in the presentation room. Without this knowledge, they'll be unprepared. (pause) Time to show this shelter that I'm worth sh#t.
  • (He sees the yellowish light of the outdoor landscape through the party room's windows, which then explode, showering him with glass. The glass implants itself in his skin and draws blood, but he ignores the impulses of pain from his nerves and runs through the violently shaking corridors of the shelter, as various pieces of metal and building material fly around, striking him.) Ah, forget it, I'm still worth nothing. They don't know what's going on, they don't know anything. (Remembering not to dwell on self-pity during life-or-death situations, he runs to the mental ward, where around twenty zombies have broken in through a hole in the wall. The patients are hopeless - their half-eaten bodies lie in every corner, and those who are still alive are having panic attacks or are soon to be killed. He sees the muscle-bound patient he befriended struggling to fight a zombie. The patient slams the crowbar into the zombie's abdomen five times, spraying blood. Mr. Krabs grabs his arm and attempts to yank him away, but one of the zombies bites the muscled patient's stomach, shakes his head around, and pulls upward, disembowelling him instantly. Retching, and feeling only pure anger, Mr. Krabs cocks his assault rifle, and fires three bullets into the zombie's head, which spurts blood. He grins as the creature keels over, dead. The muscled mental patient is lying on the ground, barely alive. He coughs out four words.)
  • Mental Patient #3: Avenge...me...my...friend. (his eyes close. Mr. Krabs sheds a tear and continues to fire into the steadily-growing mass of zombies. We briefly see a patient get bitten on the shoulder by a flailing zombie. In the middle of the bite, a bullet impacts the zombie's forehead, and it falls over with a quick spray of blood. As Mr. Krabs' firing becomes even more precise, four zombies are shown dying from gunfire simultaneously, their bodies becoming just a fraction of the large pile behind them. He fires at another zombie, but it hits its leg rather than its head. The zombie comes towards him, dragging its wounded leg behind it, and Mr. Krabs realizes he has to reload. As he does so, the zombie jumps on him and makes several failed attempts to bite him. Mr. Krabs picks an axe off the ground, and with a flick of his wrist, slices the zombie's head clean off. Realizing his gun is now lost amongst the rubble and bodies, Krabs retreats, carrying his axe with him. Cut to the presentation room, where carnage of a similar scale is occurring. The left wall has entirely broken down, and dozens of zombies have come in, feasting on the living. The survivors are unconfidently firing their guns; the only majorly professional individual at destroying the zombies is Finn, who is shooting zombies around him in a circular motion. SpongeBob, Patrick and Sandy are huddled together in one spot, creating a three-way defense system against the undead. A zombie lunges at Sandy, who shoots it in the head, causing it to spray blood. An overweight zombie falls from a hole in the roof on to SpongeBob, who falls on the ground, struggling against the zombie's grip.)
  • SpongeBob: I need assistance! Somebody take this one out for me!
  • (Patrick turns on a chainsaw and as he holds it to the obese zombie, the screen cuts away to another area of the room. The scene cuts back to Patrick switching his bloodied chainsaw off, a dead zombie just about visible in the lower half of the screen.)
  • Patrick: How about we split up? Our defensive position causes a large disadvantage - we can't target our weapons, due to us being held too close together.
  • (Sandy hits a zombie in the face with her rifle butt)
  • Sandy: Splitting up is useless in a situation like this; they'll just keep coming. There's one thing we need to do - leave this God-forsaken hellhole. It's much easier to fight the zekes outdoors, especially when you're not being exposed to hundreds of people losing their lives.
  • SpongeBob: But what about the tornado?
  • Sandy: The worst of it will probably have mostly subsided by now. It will still be hazardous, but we can stand strong against it. Plus, the zombies will be far less maleficent if they're struggling to stay on their feet!
  • Patrick: Let's go, then.
  • (As the three dash for the exit in the wall, a large horde of zombies follow. SpongeBob and Patrick shoot the ten zombies that are hottest on their trail and Sandy runs as fast as she can, signalling for the two other members of the gang to keep up. SpongeBob and Patrick ignore three other members of the dead charging at them and run - but they notice another figure running with them, drenched in the blood of the undead. Patrick stops in his tracks, and finds out it's Mr. Krabs.)
  • SpongeBob: Woah, what happened, Mr. Krabs?
  • Mr. Krabs: You probably got the word that I was committed to the mental institution sector of the shelter, didn't you? Well, at the end of the presentation, I made a quick escape to the party room. I... I just couldn't take living with everybody there anymore. It really played with what little sanity I had left. When I was relaxing with a few fifths of vodka, the TV turned on and it was a...
  • Patrick: Just get to why you're so bloody. I'm not really pleased with your presence here after your attack on Sandy, and to a lesser extent, me.
  • Mr. Krabs: I went into the mental ward, and what I saw will probably shape me forever. There were zombies everywhere, eating people... I saw the only friend I had there get gutted in front of me. I shot about a half-dozen zombies... I really don't want to talk about it. Just give me a second chance, I can prove a valuable asset. Someone who nearly killed ten zombies can't be that useless, huh?
  • SpongeBob: I suppose. Anyway, we need to meet up with Sandy, so we can make amends and discuss our plans for finding Squidward.
  • Patrick: I don't see Sandy anywhere around me.
  • Mr. Krabs: Check through your sniper scope. Don't shoot her of course.
  • (Patrick looks into the distance, and sees nothing but an incredibly distant trail of blood.)
  • Patrick: I only see a trail of blood. Dear God, please don't tell me the zombies have got her.
  • SpongeBob: You mean the same zombies that attacked the shelter? They wouldn't be organized enough to drag someone all that way.
  • Patrick: I have a feeling something big is happening. (pause) And we're trapped right in the middle of it.

Trivia

TBA

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