***As a little treat for all of you extremely patient readers, I will give you this one-shot I'm pretty sure some of you have had similar experiences with. I own nothing.

SpongeBob was glad he was home alone.

He was currently laying on the couch in his underwear, watching TV, and eating whipped cream out of the can. Gary was even having a slow day. That is, until...

Ring-ring. "SquarePants house," SpongeBob said. "Howdy. Sandy here," Sandy said. SpongeBob smiled a little at the mention of his girlfriend/housemate. She had been out of town for the past five days or so for a science convention in Texas.

"Oh. Hi, Sandy. How's the convention going so far?"

"So far? The meetings ended already. I'm literally on my way home as we speak."

"Y-you are? How much longer until you get home?"

"Considering I'm at the Bikini Bottom airport now, I'd say...fifteen to twenty minutes."


"What've you done?"

"Nothing, bye."


SpongeBob hung up the phone. Of course the meetings had ended! It hit him like a brick. But now, as he looked around, he was as good as dead. The interior of the pineapple vaguely resembled ones in those shows about hoarders. How was he supposed to clean the whole house in fifteen to twenty minutes?!

"Meow?" Gary meowed, nudging the phone on the floor. Of course! Calling for help seemed like a good idea. SpongeBob called Patrick and said that he was on a time limit to clean his house. Patrick, having nothing better to do than watch TV, agreed to come.

"Hey, buddy! I'm here!" Patrick called out in a sing-song voice. "Thank Neptune you're here! I need you to clean the living room, kitchen, and the downstairs bathroom. I'll get my room, Sandy's room, and the upstairs bathroom. Think you can remember that? Great! Get started!" SpongeBob said. He was off like a shot. Patrick only had time to blink once.


"Why did I let my room go?" SpongeBob sighed as he looked at the battlefield known as his bedroom. It was cluttered with empty drink cans, dirty clothes, and stuff that SpongeBob didn't even recognize. He looked at a clock. Seventeen minutes left. He picked up his cleaning supplies, puffed out his chest in what he thought was a manly way, and said in his deep voice, "Let's do this!"

Patrick looked at the messy kitchen for a moment. "Wow, SpongeBob has really let this place go," he remarked. He managed to clean off the table and part of the counter before his eye caught something. "Crunchy deep-fried cream-filled coral balls? All right!" Sure enough, the aforementioned snack lay on the counter. Patrick dug in, forgetting what he'd originally come over to do.

Three minutes left. SpongeBob came down the stairs. "Hey, Pat, how're you do-whoa!" he exclaimed. Patrick had only made a bigger mess of the kitchen, had gotten the living room to level "decent" of cleanliness, and hadn't touched the bathroom at all! "Patrick! Sandy will be back in two and a half minutes! She'll kill me!" SpongeBob shouted.

Patrick narrowed his eyes. It was for her. Ever since she and SpongeBob had gotten together, he had claimed her a best-friend-stealer. "Well, my shows are on. If you'll excuse me." Then the starfish had left the building.

SpongeBob ran around like he was on fire, cleaning the remaining rooms. "Cleaning" meaning hiding all the clutter from view. He finished and sat down with a sigh of relief. In the nick of time, too. The doorbell rang a mere twenty senconds later.

"Hi, Sandy. How was the convention?" SpongeBob asked as he let her in. "Just fine," Sandy said, "but can I ask you something?"


"Why are you only wearing your underwear?"

***XD I hope I made you laugh at least once. Review, favorite, do what you do. Also, this isn't in the same time as my other story.