Physically Possible

SpongeBob and Patrick sat in the front yard, laughing.

"And the last one…" began SpongeBob. "I need a noun."

"Uhh….. what's a noun again, SpongeBob?"

"Like… a thing. Or a person. Or a place."

"Then I pick…. you!"

"That's a pronoun…. oh, wait, I get it!" SpongeBob scribbled it down and then placed his pencil aside. "Are you ready for me to read it back?"


They had spent the last three hours playing Mad Libs outside in the yard. The inane, incessant laughter had driven Squidward to see his therapist a few days early.

"Okay, here goes." SpongeBob cleared his throat. "You went to the toilet store to find some boogers. Along the way, you came across Squidward who was wearing a birthday suit. He/ she was looking very crunchy that day. Then you decided to throw up together. After you were finished, you were feeling quite stupid so you found a rock to throw SpongeBob at."

They both doubled over laughing.

"That was dirty!" said Patrick, thinking immature words like 'boogers' were swearwords.

"I know!" SpongeBob turned the page. "This one's called 'A Western Adventure'." OOH! You know who I bet would love this one?"


"No, Sandy!" He grinned. "Let's go over to the treedome and see if she'd like to play!"


"Hmm…." SpongeBob looked up at the door. "Doesn't seem to be any answer."

"Hurry up, SpongeBob!" said Patrick frantically. "I need to know the end of that gripping novel!"

"But Pat, it's not a novel," said SpongeBob, frowning. "It's a Mad Libs booklet."

Patrick spun the wheel on the front of the hatch door and dashed inside.

"Patrick! What are you doing?!"

"I'm going inside!"

"But Sandy's not home! If we go in, Sandy'll—UMPH!"

Patrick shoved a water helmet over SpongeBob's head, cutting him off. "That's never stopped us before. There's been plenty of episodes where we go in when she's not home." After putting a water helmet over his own head, he entered the second door, water draining behind him.

SpongeBob cautiously followed. "But Patrick, isn't this breaking and entering?"

"We didn't break anything," Patrick replied in his haughty voice. As he did so, he moved his arms to gesture around him, knocking over the birdbath, which cracked on impact. "Um, that was broken before we got here."

They walked around, Patrick snooping and SpongeBob worrying. Thoughts of getting beaten up by Sandy were running through his head.

Suddenly Patrick started to climb the tree. "I want some apples!" he proclaimed.

"Patrick! Stop!"

But it was too late; Patrick was already up in the tree and inside Sandy's room. "Hey, where are the apples?"

SpongeBob followed him and entered the room. "We really shouldn't be in here without Sandy's permission."

"Pffft," scoffed Patrick. "What's she gonna do?"

"Karate chop us into next week!"

"Hey, look at this, SpongeBob!" he said, not listening. "It's a piece of paper! WITH WORDS!"

SpongeBob knew it was wrong, but he could only contain his curiosity for so long. "What's it say?" he asked.

"Bl….bl… blow….uh! SpongeBob, these words are too hard, you're gonna have to read it."

"No problem, buddy." SpongeBob took the paper from Patrick. "'Blowing bubbles into different shapes. Grilling Krabby Patties." He stopped and grinned. "Hey, this must be a list of fun things to do!"

"I wanna have some fun!" said Patrick giddily, clapping his hands together. "Keep reading!"

"Okay! 'Taking a bath. The Krusty Krab blowing up. Fire starting.'" SpongeBob frowned. "Wait…. what?"

"What are y'all doing in my bedroom?!" screeched a familiar voice.

The two looked over to see Sandy in the doorway. "Oh, uh, hey Sandy!" said SpongeBob nervously. "We weren't reading any kind of list we found in here or anything." As he spoke, he folded the list behind his back into a paper airplane and tossed it towards her nightstand.

"Please don't light us on fire!" sobbed Patrick, groveling.

"What in tarnation are y'all talking about?" she asked, approaching. Then her eyes saw the paper airplane land. "My notes!"

"Uh, gotta go, Sandy!" SpongeBob attempted to flee, but Sandy grabbed him.

"What has gotten into you two?!" she asked, holding him a few inches off the ground.

"We found your list of fun things to do!" cried SpongeBob.

"Huh? That ain't a list of fun things to do. Those are my notes."

"Notes on how to LIGHT US ON FIRE?!" screamed Patrick.

"No!" She dropped SpongeBob to the ground. "Forget it, I'm not gonna even bother to try and explain it. It's far too complicated for you two to understand."

"Aw, come on!" pleaded SpongeBob, clasping his hands together. "Please?"

"Yeah!" Patrick put his hands on his hips. "We are not idiots! We can understand anything you throw at us!" Just then the paper airplane hit him in the face. "Hey!"

"Sorry, Patrick," said SpongeBob.

Sandy snatched the paper from Patrick's face. "If you must know, it's a list of things I've noticed since I moved to Bikini Bottom that are physically impossible underwater."

"But Sandy," began SpongeBob, smiling. "Anything's possible if you believe hard enough!"

"SpongeBob…. I'm a scientist. I need solid, concrete evidence—and no less!"

"Hmmm," thought SpongeBob. "Would you like a demonstration? I think I can clear some stuff up for you."

"We-yellll……" Sandy hesitated.

SpongeBob beamed, oblivious. "TO MY LIVING ROOM!"

Sandy and Patrick sat on SpongeBob's couch. Sandy clutched a notepad and pencil, ready to take notes. Patrick imitated her, but instead of a notepad he had the Mad Libs booklet for some reason.

SpongeBob stood in the middle of the room, holding a bottle of bubble soap. "Are you ready, Sandy?"

"Sure, go ahead and show me how you defy physics to make bubbles into different shapes," she replied, rolling her eyes a bit.

SpongeBob nodded. "First go like this... spin around. STOP! Double take three times: one, two, three. Then PELVIC THRUST! WHOOOOO WHOOOOOOOO!"

Sandy furrowed her brow. "This ain't what I meant!"

The sponge was nearly done: "… then this then that and then…" He blew a bubble into the shape of a peanut.

"Fascinating," said Patrick, then scribbled a doodle of the peanut in the first Mad Libs blank.

"SpongeBob, what you just did is physically impossible. All bubbles are supposed to be spheres!"

Just then the peanut bubble turned into a perfect sphere. It hung there for a few moments and then popped.

SpongeBob shrugged and did his technique again. At the end, he blew and a normal, circular bubble was formed. "Huh? I was trying to blow a cactus!"

"Well, SpongeBob," said Sandy. "I think that just proves me right."

Frantically, SpongeBob tried again but to no avail; he achieved nothing but the same dismal bubble, which quickly popped. He frowned and shrank a bit.

"One down, several more to go." Sandy picked up the list. "Let's see, next up is grilling Krabby Patties."

"But I can't do that unless I'm at the Krusty Krab!" said SpongeBob.

"No, you can't do it because it's physically impossible underwater!"

SpongeBob frowned again. "But why?"

"Duh! Think about it!"

Patrick waved her off. "That's a bunch of barnacles, Sandy. If you're gonna say patties can't be grilled, you might as well say this can't happen!" He pulled out a lighter and flipped it on.

"Patrick! Careful!" said SpongeBob in a panic. "My couch is flammable!"

As if on cue, the couch caught on fire.

"AHH!" screamed SpongeBob. "I'll get a bucket of water!"

Sandy folded her arms. "This is all impossible! How can you get a bucket of water when we're already underwater in the first place?!"

SpongeBob returned with a full pail, but as soon as Sandy finished her last sentence, the water inside seemed to disappear. "Huh?"

Patrick started to run around in circles. "Now how will we put the fire out?!"

Sandy growled. "That fire is impossible too!"

And with that, the flames went out.

"Sandy! You did it!" SpongeBob jumped for joy. "You put the fire out!"

"I didn't do nothin'! This is more bull than a July rodeo!" She threw her arms up. "All these things just ain't physically possible! And I'm gettin' sick of it!"

"Almost everything about our lives is physically impossible!" said SpongeBob with a grin. "Even you! I mean, you don't even have an oxygen tank on your back. You're just breathing the same air over and over…. you should have been dead a long time ago!"

She gasped. "You're right! I'm just breathing in recycled carbon dioxide and—ACK!" The squirrel gripped her neck as she choked and gasped for air.

"Oh, no! You can't breathe!"

"Do something, SpongeBob!" said Patrick.

SpongeBob dashed out of the room again. When he came back he had a nearly empty, clear gallon of milk jug. In a flash, he yanked Sandy's air helmet off and stuffed the plastic container over her head.

Finally, she caught her breath. "Thank you, SpongeBob! I thought I was a goner! But…." Staring back at them, she thought. It came to her mind that what just happened was also physically impossible. But before she said those words once more, she realized that it was probably best she didn't question it… at least out loud.

"But what?" asked SpongeBob with eager eyes.

"But….nothing." She smiled and sighed.

Patrick turned to SpongeBob. "Hey! You guys wanna go watch some fireworks?"

"Sure!" said SpongeBob. "I'll get some sodas for us to drink!"

Sandy just rolled her eyes and decided it was best to keep her mouth shut.


A/N: Yep, you probably guessed it… this was inspired by Patrick's line about the fire in the episode "Life of Crime." You can break the rules underwater…. but don't question it, or you lose it!

Reviews are appreciated :)