[upbeat music]
*
- [humming]
[laughing]
- And how was your meal today, ma'am?
- Oh, delicious.
I wish I could tell everyone
how great my meal was.
- Well, you're more then welcome to go to each table
and tell 'em about your satisfactory experience.
- I don't really have time to do that.
Perhaps I will mention it in my will.
- Well, if that's the way you want it.
- Wait! I have an idea.
[panting]
- Hold on a second. That's me corkboard.
It's for all me...
memos.
[cash register dings]
- Mr. Krabs, think of it now as...
a bulletin board for the community,
a place where a yearning populace
can express themselves freely.
- [humming]
[upbeat instrumental music]
*
Hmm.
Well, I was just gonna loiter,
but now I think I'll get a Krabby Patty.
*
[cash register dings]
- Hey, everybody,
a community bulletin board is here.
Tell your friends to come on down and use it
for the good of me business-- me wallet--
[stammering]
I mean, the community.
*
[indistinct conversation]
- [crying]
Community.
*
- Oh, I really hope people like it.
*
- Number one with a star.
- [laughing]
[wheel squeaking]
- See, Mr. Krabs?
The community bulletin board is a good thing.
- Yes. Yes, it is.
It's bringing me closer to my favorite part
of the community: their money.
- Let's see what other nice people are saying.
[screaming]
- What are you shrieking about?
- Nothing. I just love to shriek.
[shrieking]
- Step aside, boy, you're blocking
me moneymaking bulletin board.
[creaking]
- "When I eat at the Krusty Krab..."
Ouch.
[dramatic music]
- [gasps]
Hey, not on my bulletin board.
- Whoa, whoa, dude, what's with the censorship?
The community bulletin board is for everybody.
You can't just take something down
because you think it's bogus.
- Mr. Krabs, Surfer Fish is right.
The board is sacred, and it must be respected.
"Dear P-Star7, I'm so sorry you had
"a less than stellar experience at the Krusty Krab,
"and we promise to do better in future.
Signed, Fry-Banshee139."
Ha. Crisis averted.
Huh?
"Signed, GuyBesideU3."
- [whistling]
- Huh?
"Dumb-blurted, LOL?"
"What's the point?"
"I could make a better patty out of mud"?
Where are all these notes coming from?
- Pencils, paper.
Pencils, paper.
- I want to express the worst side of myself.
- [chuckling]
Why not?
And don't forget to feed your hatred
with a selection from our menu.
- Huh? Oh.
- If only I could figure out who this P-Star7 is.
- Hello.
[indistinct conversation]
- P-Star7 is my new hero.
- Hey, that's me.
- Yeah, right.
- He really knows how to complain.
- But I wasn't com--
- P-Star7 is cool because he's anonymous.
- Oh, yeah.
He's cool because he's a nanny mouse.
- You may not like what P-Star7 has to say,
but you have to agree that he keeps it real.
He's a true hero for our troubled times.
- Well, I'll just have to make my Krabby Patties better
so P-Star7 will like 'em.
*
Uh-huh.
[grill sizzling]
No, it's not round enough.
Maybe just a little off the edge here.
*
No, now the other side is wobbly.
I'll just even it up a little here.
*
Now it's smaller than that one.
[grunting]
Oh.
Hey, Squidward. - Yes?
- Has P-Star7 responded to my nice note yet?
- Oh, he responded hours ago.
- Why didn't you tell me?
- Because I don't care?
[crowd murmuring]
- That's for me.
- His vituperative hyperbole
has certainly diminished your credibility.
- Oh, why did you have to say that?
- You're right.
I should have put it on the bulletin board instead.
"Signed, HandsomeLad42."
- You may be handsome, HandsomeLad42,
but you're very mean.
[all laughing]
- Yeah, that's a good one, yeah.
You know, all this note-writing
must be making you folks hungry.
We have a short line at the register.
- [snoring]
- I brought a bag lunch.
- [stammering] Wait a second.
None of you bulletin-board browsers
are buying me patties?
- Why would we buy food from a place
that "smells like stinky armpits"?
- What?
[sniffing]
That's not true.
- Hey, it's on the board.
- And the board is never wrong.
- Does anyone need to buy a pen?
How about some paper?
[groans]
- [crying]
- What's wrong?
- It's this P-Star7.
He's been saying terrible things about me
and the Krusty Krab.
- Oh, I think they were all good things.
- Not good.
He said the Krusty Krab
made him feel dark and empty inside.
- Well, he probably meant
his stomach was dark and empty,
and he was hungry for more.
- No, a master of acid wit like P-Star7
would never express himself so clumsily.
He called me Cry-Baby139.
- You were Fry-Banshee?
- Yeah.
- Well, maybe he just thought
it was funny,
and--and when he said that Krabby Patties
taste like old baseball gloves--
- He said that?
- Oh, not yet.
*
- [gasps]
Taste like old baseball gloves, do they?
- [laughing]
I don't know who this P-Star7 is,
but he's brilliant.
- He's a diabolical genius, that's what he is.
- [murmuring]
- Mr. Krabs, the grill's gone cold.
- Nobody's ordering, son.
It's that cursed corkboard.
I'm gonna take it down. It's nothing but trouble.
- You can't, Mr. Krabs. It's for the community.
I still believe in the power of the bulletin board.
[crowd laughing]
- "You smell."
[crowd laughing]
- "One of your eyes is too big."
[crowd laughing]
- "Close your mouth when you eat."
- [burps]
Oh.
- Oh, "This picture looks like
it was drawn by a brine shrimp!"
[crying] Oh, Daddy.
- [laughing]
Huh?
"Squidward Tentacles
"should never be allowed
"behind a cash register.
P-Star7."
Oh, that is it.
Why can't any of these yokels
understand I'm working here ironically?
- Oh, sure you are.
P-Star7 has your number, all right.
- I'm gonna give you a number...
of contusions!
[crowd cheering]
- People, can't you see what's happened?
This bulletin board has become
a bullying board.
[crowd murmuring]
- Okay that's it.
Everybody out.
- I can't believe we're being kicked out again.
Let's go to my house.
*
- Oh, P-Star7 is bringing out the worst in everybody.
I'd like to send him a message.
- We'll teach him a lesson he'll never forget.
- A lesson in polite manners.
- Or we could push him off a cliff.
- Ooh, excellent option, Mr. Squidward.
- We have to find out who this P-Star7 is.
Gentlemen, I propose a stakeout.
[crickets chirping]
Pineapple One to Mad Daddy.
Come in, Mad Daddy.
[static]
- This is Mad Daddy.
I read you, Pineapple One.
Any movement?
[static]
[suspenseful music]
- Negatory.
Pineapple One to Delicate Flower.
Come in, Delicate Flower.
- I am not answering to Delicate Flower!
[soft instrumental music]
- [groans]
- Shh. Maintain radio silence.
Wait a minute. I see something.
[suspenseful music]
*
- Ooh.
[slurping]
- So that's what happens to the ketchup stains.
*
- Surprise, P-Star7!
all: Patrick?
- [growling]
I'll tear you to pieces.
[growling]
[grunting]
[munching]
[groaning]
[upbeat music]
[machinery whirring]
*
[panting]
- Patrick.
You're P-Star7?
- Well, that's what my last note was about, SpongeBob.
I was upset that people take everything I say
the wrong way.
- So when you said that Krabby Patties
reminded you of old baseball gloves,
you really meant that they gave you the feeling
of your carefree youth.
- [munching]
Yeah, I think.
- You hear that, Boardy?
It wasn't you. It was never you.
We were the monsters all along.
- Well, I'm still angry!
And I need something to calm me down.
Ooh, this knitting circle ought to do the trick.
And you all are joining me.
Especially you, Delicate Flower.
- Oh, ratfish.
- Pineapple One to Knit Mama.
Can I needle you for a little more yarn?
[giggling]
- Oh, brother.
Please bring back P-Star7.
[all laughing]