Episode Transcript: Procrastination

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Episode Article: Procrastination

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(the bell rings)

Mrs. Puff: OK, class, quiet, quiet. Now, get out your pencils and paper, and write down the assignment.

Students: (groan)

SpongeBob: Did you hear that? We get an assignment! (Nat gives an annoyed look)

Mrs. Puff: Everyone must write an essay on What Not to Do at a Stoplight.

Students: (groan again)

SpongeBob: Did you hear that? What not to do at a Stoplight. (Nat glares at him)

Mrs. Puff: In no less than 800 words. (squeals)

Students: (groan again)

Nat: (acting like SpongeBob): Did you hear that? 800 words!

SpongeBob: Yeah, I know! (Nat frowns in annoyance)

Mrs. Puff: Due tomorrow. And remember, class: work hard, and no goofing off.

(back at SpongeBob's house)

SpongeBob: OK, Gary, no goofing off. I am about to write the greatest essay of all time. Like most great essays, it will be written on paper. (Shows two pieces) Even more important than the paper is... (shows a pencil) ...the pencil. A pencil is sharp or as dull as I like. (To the pencil) Hmm.. funny thing, as my ideas grow, you shrink. Well, I couldn't have asked for a more beautiful day to write an essay. (looks at window. It's colorful outside) OK, here we go. (begins writing) "What Not to Do at a Stoplight". Hey, this is easy! "By SpongeBob SquarePants". Ha, this essay is pure gold. And now, pencil, get ready to do your stuff, because here we go!

(The clock is shown. Several hours pass)

SpongeBob: (has not written anything else) Gee, this is harder than I thought.

Deleted Scene:

(SpongeBob looks outside. There is a carnival. Squidward is suntanning. A kid is eating ice cream. Jellyfish are playing tennis. Gary is playing with a ball. Patrick is rubbing Sandy with sunscreen)

Patrick: Come on, SpongeBob!

SpongeBob: It should be against the law to have to write an essay on such a super sailorific, sunshiny day. (groans) But I must press onward. Because with this pencil, and the completion of this essay, I'll be one step closer to my driver's license! (a live-action drag race is shown. A car hits a wall, tumbles, and gets back up. Cut back to SpongeBob) Oh, yeah... This'll be no problemo. Why, I've got plenty of time. It's only six o'clock! Okay, okay, here we go. Here we go. (SpongeBob struggles to write) I know! I just need to get a little blood pumpin' in the old noodle. How about some calisthenics? (does calisthenics. While doing it, he recites "Hup hoo" several times) I can feel those juices pumpin' now.

(SpongeBob moves his chair closer to the table. He does it a lot because of the fun noise it makes. He then laughs) Huh! What am I doing? I gotta write that paper. (pushes his chair in) Come on, pencil, make words.

Gary: Meow.

SpongeBob: Gary! Hey, hey, hey, Gary! How's my favorite mollusk? How about you and ol' SpongeBob fix you up something to eat?

Gary: Meow.

SpongeBob: What do you mean you're not hungry?

Gary: Meow.

SpongeBob: I know I have an essay to write. Now, come on, Gary. (pours some food) I've got to make sure you get your nutrition, so I'm not leaving till you eat every single bite. (he takes up a ladder and fills it to ceiling-level. Gary quickly eats it) Gary, are you sure you don't want some crème brûlée? Or some choco-flavored algae bits? (sees a pile of food on the floor) Gee, Gary sure made a mess. I can't work on my essay, knowing there's a mess in the kitchen. (cleans it up) Hmm. I might as well clean the rest of the floor while I'm at it. I should get these hard-to-reach places too! And these dishes need to be cleaned! Can't have dirty garbage. (some time later, SpongeBob is finished) Well, I think it's clean enough now. (the kitchen is now chrome) Why, that didn't take too long. It's only... (checks the clock) 10:00! Oh. No more fooling around. I gotta get back to work. Okay, Mr. Essay, I say: prepare to be written! I'm doing it! (begins writing frantically in a montage) I'm doing it!... Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!... And some of these, and some of these!... Almost there and... (drops pencil) done. (sighs in relief) Now, let's see how it looks so far. The... (he has only written the word "The", in a fancy manner) Break time! Pacing always helps me think. (paces around the room) Let's see, only 799 words to go. Think, SpongeBob, think. (looks at the telephone, then at the paper, then back at the phone. Cut to Patrick in bed. His phone rings and he wakes up)

Patrick: Who's that? (picks up phone) Hello?

SpongeBob: Hey, Patrick, what are you up to?

Patrick: Sleeping.

SpongeBob: That's really fascinating. Are you having a good sleep? Any dreams you'd like to discuss? I remember on this...

Patrick: SpongeBob, you and I both know that you're just using me as a distraction so you don't have to write your essay.

SpongeBob: (gasps) That is not true! I called to have an engaging conversation with you!

Patrick: Well, I'm listening.

SpongeBob: Uh...Marco!

Patrick: Polo. (hangs up)

SpongeBob: (listening to a dial tone) Yeah, well, I gotta get going, Patrick. Got an important essay to write. (hangs up phone) Sheesh, what a chatterbox. Can't he see that I'm busy? (notices eraser shavings on his paper) I can't write with all these eraser shavings all over my paper! (throws them away) Now they're floating around my thinking space. (blows them away) So long, pesky particles! (they come back, and he chokes on one) I swallowed one! I'm choking! Water! Water! (goes to the kitchen and drinks water, then gasps in relief) That was a close one.

Gary: Meow.

SpongeBob: What do you mean overly dramatic, Gary? All that choking sure made me hungry.

Gary: Meow.

SpongeBob: I can't write on an empty stomach, Gary. I gotta have my brain food. (looking through his refrigerator) Now, let's see. White or rye bread...or pumpernickel? Gee, I guess it really depends on the meat inside. And the cheese. (doorbell rings) A visitor? For me? (opens the door) Hello!

Mailman: Package for Mr. SquarePants.

SpongeBob: Great! Thanks! So, you like delivering mail?

Mailman: It puts bread on the table.

SpongeBob: Rye or pumpernickel? (laughs)

Mailman: Oh, brother.

SpongeBob: So, do you deliver your own mail? Or do you have your own mailperson? But then, who delivers his mail? Is there a never-ending chain of mailmen delivering mail to other mailmen? Well, I guess a P.O. box could, in theory, break the chain.

Mailman: Don't you have a paper to write? (walks away)

SpongeBob: (gulps) How did he know I'm supposed to be writing an essay? (glances back and forth several times, then slides backward into his house, turns and tiptoes in front of the TV)

Realistic Fish Head: (speaking on the TV) In other news, local resident SpongeBob SquarePants only has a few hours left to complete his essay. And yet he continues to goof off. (his head leans through the TV screen into SpongeBob's face) When will he learn?

SpongeBob: Hi-yah! (karate chops the TV causing a zap and the glass breaks. The room has a blackout and he lights a candle)

Easy Chair: (SpongeBob turns to it) Hey! SpongeBob, over here! Come on! Take a seat! Put your feet up and relax!

(SpongeBob drops the candle on the floor and the fire on the candle goes out)

SpongeBob: (gasps, as the bell rings the clock lights up as he looks at the clock) Oh, no! Midnight! (Panting, he runs in a hallway where the wall is full of paintings of clocks in the style of "Persistence of Memory") Must... get... back to desk! (runs to the table, but it has enlarged. He jumps up) Whew, that was a close call. (notices his pants are missing and he screams) My pants!

Pants: Yoo hoo! Down here!

SpongeBob: You get up here! I gotta get back to work!

Pants: Freedom!

SpongeBob: (runs out the door following the pants) Stop, pants! You get back here this instant! Pants! (The door closes. SpongeBob tries to get back in, but it is locked. He looks in the window. The candle is still lit. The clock's face pops off, revealing a mouth)

Clock: (ghostly voice) Time's up, SpongeBob.

(The candle melts into a flame, Flare)

SpongeBob: (gasps) Burning!

Flare: (takes SpongeBob's essay paper) Only 799 words to go! Hehehehe! (She burns the paper and leaps off the table)

SpongeBob: No! (the inside of his house burns) AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!! What have I done? Help! Help! My house is on fire! (continues running around his burnt house, babbling incoherently, until the house comes to life)

House: SpongeBob, why? Why did you set me on fire, SpongeBob?! Why didn't you just write your essay?! Stop wasting time!

SpongeBob: (wakes up from his nightmare and takes the pencil off his face) Where's my essay! Oh, there you are! I must've dozed off. Let's see, where are we? (the paper only reads "The") Do I dare look at the clock? (looks at the clock, then gasps) It's almost 9:00! Class starts in five minutes! How am I going to write this whole paper in five minutes? How am I supposed to know what not to do at a stoplight? (realizing) Feeding your snail is something not to do at a stoplight! And... (begins writing) ...making a sandwich. And lighting candles! And drinking water! And calling your friends! And karate chopping the TV! And shooting the breeze with the mailman. And falling asleep... (cut to SpongeBob, out of breath, running to the boating school) Mrs. Puff! Mrs. Puff! I'm finished! All 800 words! I'm finished! Here it is! Mrs. Puff? (goes inside, but nobody is there) Where is everybody?

Mrs. Puff: Oh, there you are, SpongeBob.

SpongeBob: Here you go, Mrs. Puff! All 800 words! All about stoplights and what not to do at 'em.

Mrs. Puff: I'm sorry, SpongeBob. I tried to call you! I have to go to a teacher's convention.

SpongeBob: But what about my essay?

Mrs. Puff: Nah, I decided to cancel the assignment. We're just going to take a field trip to a stoplight instead. See you next week! (exits)

(SpongeBob rips his essay. He then rips himself)


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