This is my first attempt at a fanfic for SpongeBob. My brother thinks it's neat, but he doesn't know much. I humbly ask that you read and enjoy. And it's a Dennis fanfic, by the way. But read even if you hate him. And hopefully you've seen the movie. If you haven't there aren't many spoiler but you will be hopelessly lost.
Okay...and don't ask why I put the parts in Spanish. I have no reason...
Part Uno
In the beginning, it had seemed an easy task. Nothing he hadn’t done before. Just track them down, annihilate them, get paid. He’d repeated the cycle endless times.
But it wasn’t. He didn’t know why. It was like some unseen force was watching the would-be assassinated, making sure harm didn’t come their way. What, after all, could be so hard about it? They were just a couple of kids, no more able to defend themselves than…well, they were pretty defenseless.
He’d done it with expert skill. He was the best tracker for miles. He’d found them in half the time it would have taken others. Maybe he’d prolonged it, drawing it out, teasing their naiveness, relishing in their looks of terror. Yes, that must have been it. But when he found them again, and he would, there would be no mercy.
FLASHback
The school was Miss Hampton’s School of Kindergarten. He looked back with sad eyes, but the boat was speeding away. He took a big shaky breath and, clutching his blankie, he walked inside.
The room was abuzz with activity. Girls with pigtails and matching pink jumpsuits played house in a corner with decapitated dolls. A crowd was gathered around a cage with a scallop in it. A pleading mother clutched a little boy as the teacher tried to pull her away. He didn’t know what to do.
“What’s your name?” a crackly voice asked. He looked up and towering over him was an old, gray-haired lady. She peered at him over rhinestone glasses. Her wrinkled hands clutched a set of nametags.
“D-Dennis…m-ma’am.” His lower lip quivered. The old lady thumbed through the stack, her eyes never leaving him, and slapped it on his shirt. He stared at her, openmouthed, until Miss Hampton’s voice rang out behind him.
“Class! Go ahead and get in your seats!” He scrambled away from the woman’s stony gaze and careened into a seat at the back of the room.
“Hey, you!” a voice said. He looked up. A burly boy stood behind him, his arms crossed, scowling. Two others stood behind him, grinning maliciously.
“This is my seat,” said the boy, leaning closer. “Get out.”
He stared blankly, unconsciously clutching the blankie.
“Oh, look! He’s got him a wittle bwankie!” taunted the boy, tearing it from his grasp. “Listen, you. Get out now, or you’ll never see your pwecious bwankie again!”
Dennis leaped at the boy, knocking him down. He grabbed a corner of his blankie, pulling it. The other two cronies shouted encouragement from the sidelines.
“Get him, yea!”
“Go, Mark!”
He pulled harder, gripping it with all his strength. Mark grinned, something glinting in his eye. He tugged. Dennis yanked. In the next instant there was a terrible ripping sound, filling the air.
The class was silent. Miss Hampton rushed over: “Boys, boys!” The old lady laughed quietly in the corner. The cronies helped Mark up. Dennis lay flat on his back, the blanket in his grasp. He leaned up, ever so slightly, and gasped in horror at Mark, who was dangling the other half of the blankie in his hands.
Dennis stared, mouth open, tears flowing freely. Mark delighted.
“Wook! The wittle baby is cwying! What’s a matter, baby?”
“Mark! That is enough! Go sit in the corner while the rest of us have class! Come, Dennis. You can sit up here in the front.” Miss Hampton patted the desk with her hand. Miserable, he walked up the aisle and sat in the seat, lying his head on the cool, hard surface.
Through his sniffles, he heard Mark protesting, then Miss Hampton’s lecture and welcome speech. She dismissed them for playtime. Still, he didn’t move.
A hand tapped him on the shoulder. He didn’t respond, just sniffed again. Another tap, more insistent. He lifted his head a little bit. A girl was standing there, or floating. He knew that she was a mermaid, wealthy and royal. On her arm she wore a gold charm bracelet. Her blue hair was pulled back with a seashell bow. Freckles dotted her face, and her thick glasses kept sliding down her nose.
“Hi!” she said, waving her slender, green fingers. He didn’t say a word. She let her hand drop. “Listen…I think that was awfully mean what Mark did.”
Silence.
“I thought you might want a sucker.” She handed him a bright orange lolly. He took it, stunned.
“Mindy! Come play house with us!” cried the girls with the headless family.
“Bye…” Mindy said, hurrying away.
“Thanks…” he breathed, but she was too far away. He stared at the sucker, cradling it in his hands…
During art, Dennis fingerpainted.
“Wow! That’s really good!” exclaimed Mindy, leaning over.
He smiled bashfully, looking down. It was a picture of King Neptune’s palace. He’d seen it before, but only at a distance.
“Thanks…” he muttered, but she was already concentrating on her own self-portrait.
“Recess!” Miss Hampton called. “Leave your paintings where they are and follow Mrs. Jones to the playground!”
The kindergarteners flooded to the door.
“No pushing!” barked Mrs. Jones. Dennis slowed as he passed her and entered the playground.
Mindy and her friends were swinging in perfect unison, causing the swingset to teeter precariously. A crowd on the steps of the slide yelled at a timid kid at the top, afraid to go down. Two girls guarded a boy they’d forced in between the bars of the jungle gym. He looked around, not sure where to go.
Suddenly he hit the ground with a thud. He groped blindly. Someone was sitting on him. He saw the two cronies in front of him, laughing hysterically. He bit his lip.
“Guess what, baby?” Mark’s voice floated down. “You forgot something!” His mouth was suddenly filled with a coarse, fibery substance. He looked down and saw Mark’s meaty fist clenched around a ball of blue, cramming it into his mouth. Dennis strained to spit it out; he was likely to choke.
“What’sa matter, baby?” Mark said, bouncing on his back. “Too much of a wimp?”
Dennis rolled out from under him, but Mark hung on, pinning him to the ground again.
“Help!” he cried, but it came out as, “Mph!” because his severed blankie served as a gag. He fought for breath.
“Mark! Stop!” Mark was shoved off of him. Dennis pulled the wet rag from his mouth. Mindy had Mark on the ground, punching him in the stomach. Mark sputtered.
“Kn-knock it OFF!” he said, pushing her off. He stood up, brushing off, then stopped. He swung around and grabbed Mindy by her hair. She yelped in pain.
“Hey! You know how much of a wimp Dennis is? His girlfriend has to fight his battles for him!” The cronies collapsed in laughter. Dennis saw his own left arm twitch ever so slightly.
In the next instant, Mark was on the ground and his fist went down, down, down, over and over. He was running on sheer adrenaline, his body beyond his control. He didn’t stop until he saw red spilling out Mark’s nose. Until he saw the look of terror on Mindy’s face. Until Miss Hampton and Mrs. Jones came rushing out. He stood up and ran, out of the schoolyard, down the street, tears streaming down his face. He didn’t realize he’d left his blankie until he dared to slow down.
Yay! Pleez review! More to come!
