- * SpongeBob *
- * I'm off to summer camp *
- * SpongeBob *
- * Through nature I will tramp *
- * SpongeBob will have you screaming *
- * While milk is streaming right out of your nose *
Whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa, whoa-whoa-whoa!
Ahh! Ahh!
* *
- * SpongeBob *
- * When nature's calling *
* You'll see me hauling *
* I'm hitting the trail *
- Hello and welcome, all you snot-nosed campers
to Midnight Frights,
Kamp Koral's Annual Spooky Story Night.
Now, who'd like to hear
some scary stories?
[spooky music]
- Ha, they're already scared. What babies!
- Well, maybe they have good reason to be scared.
- Wait, what? Why? - Huh?
[frightened chattering]
- [roars] - [roars]
[laughter]
- Ha. I ain't afraid. Bring on the scary stories.
[laughter]
* *
- [cackles] Did I hear someone say scary stories?
This is gonna be good.
[quirky upbeat music]
* *
Yuck!
Who put popcorn in me spiders? Ew.
- My dreadful tale takes place
one dark and stormy night
when I was all alone in my cabin.
Agitated by the thunder, I needed to calm my nerves.
So, I decided to play a solo game
of "Lizards, Wizards, and Gizzards."
I rolled a one. So, I moved one space.
And landed on go back one space.
And then I rolled another one.
I moved my wizard forward,
then back again and rolled another one.
I moved my wizard and rolled another one.
Then another one.
Over and over, roll after roll.
I was stuck in a loop.
Was I losing my mind?
[tense music]
* *
Was this black magic?
both: Ooh.
- Hey, Patrick. You know what this story needs?
For the power to go out right about now.
- Ooh! - [gasps]
- Oh yeah!
And an escaped fiend should be pounding on the door.
[pounding on door]
- [yelps]
[chuckling]
- Excuse me. This is my story.
[upbeat music]
- We're just trying to help.
- Yeah, your story needed some punching up.
- [laughs]
- Where was I? Oh, yes.
The rolling of the ones.
[tense music]
Some sinister supernatural force
had taken control of my dice.
I screamed in horror
to the evil that had possessed my dice.
Be gone!
But to no avail.
Each roll only landed on one.
One! One!
[kids screaming]
[laughter]
[quirky upbeat music]
- What in Blackbeard's bloomers was that?
One, one, one? Lame. Lame. Lame.
- You might think that a person of means
such as myself wouldn't have a horror story.
But you'd be wrong. There was one summer in camp
when I woke up in the middle of the night hungry.
- Hungry? SpongeBob, now I'm really scared
- Here, this should help. - Thanks.
[spits] I don't like the eyes.
- As I was saying, I woke up hungry
in the middle of the night and rang for the butler.
[tense music] [bell rings]
But the butler didn't answer. What happened to the butler?
Something sinister no doubt.
I walked toward the service kitchen.
Every step filled me with dread.
I'd never been in the kitchen and I didn't know.
Oh, I didn't want to know what I'd find there.
- Here you go. - [screams]
- You shouldn't go in there alone.
[whooshing]
- This fog should help with the atmosphere.
- Do you mind?
- Not at all. You're doing great.
- I have notes. - [growls]
- Once I was in the kitchen, the fear continued.
How do I make a sandwich? How many pieces of bread?
I didn't know.
And what goes on a sandwich anyway?
Kelp pate?
How many kelps were murdered to make this pate?
Their spirits might be angry.
Then, everywhere I turned, there were sharp,
deadly objects pointed right at me.
- Sharp, deadly objects, huh?
- [squawks] Now we're cooking.
- Sharp, deadly objects like forks, spoons,
and butter knives.
- Butter knives? That's not scary. Boo!
- Boo!
- And then from the corner of my eye, I saw them.
Half one thing and half another.
Unholy hybrids. Freaks of nature.
How did they get in my cabin?
I didn't want to look but I couldn't help myself.
There, standing upright in the dish rack
there were...
sporks!
* *
[laughter]
- I thought a fork and spoon was a foon.
- Sporks?
[snarls]
[dramatic music]
What's with these camp counselors?
Their kids should be wetting their bloomers by now.
[huffs and growls]
It looks like this candy-pants campfire
needs a visit from a real master of hair-raising horror!
Little old me!
- Alright, listen up you welter weights.
Larry is gonna tell you a tale that will curl your dumb bells.
- Look!
- [maniacal laughter]
* *
[cackling]
* *
[kids screaming]
[cackling]
* *
Good thing I got a green thumb.
[snaps fingers]
* *
- Looks like we're a captive audience.
- We sure as sugar don't have anything like this
back in Texas.
* *
- Yo, bro. Not cool. It was my turn to tell a story.
- Well, if it isn't Kamp Koral's
biggest athletic supporter.
And what was your scary story, lobster roll?
Someone not wipe down the gym equipment after using it?
- Yeah. How did you know?
- [cackles]
[nervous oohs and ahs]
- Mommy.
- I hope you find my stories scary,
the first one stars a lobster named Larry.
* *
- Uh, uh, uh, uh!
I just remembered, I forgot to hydrate my gluteus maximus.
[dial-up model warbling]
[frightened stuttering]
[all gasp]
Whoa. Where am I?
Oh, my cabin. Okay.
[soft suspenseful music]
What's this?
Happy Birthday to everyone's favorite hunk.
Aw. They didn't have to do that.
It's the most beautiful piece of gym equipment
I've ever seen.
[grunting]
Oh, yeah. I can really feel the burn.
[upbeat music]
* *
Oh yeah! I'm getting j-j-j-jacked, baby.
Larry is getting huge.
Larry is a monster.
No pain, no gain!
* *
[exoskeleton cracks] Ooh!
Good Neptune, it hurts! [groans]
My sore muscles sure could use a soak.
[sighs]
Huh? [sniffs]
Huh? [slurps]
Is this butter?
- I see food! Ha! Get it? Sea food?
- What are you gonna do? Eat me?
- Though most folks love the rich,
juicy flavor of lobster meat. I prefer the shell.
Ha!
- What? Dude.
- Dipped in butter. - But I need that.
[tense music]
You can't leave me like this.
I'm all soft and buttery.
No. No!
* *
- Earned me first demerit badge.
- It's Larry. Larry's on the patch.
- You two can hit the showers.
[both screaming]
[cackles]
Well, how's that for a scary story?
- It didn't really live up to the hype.
- I've read scarier stories in third-rate comic books.
- Comic books, eh?
Well, here's a tale that has no class.
It's about your counselor, Bubble Bass.
- Huh? I would like to retract my last criticism if I may.
Parlay. Parlay!
[aerial interference whining] - Oh, what?
And I paid for extra high speed wicked Wi-Fi.
[snarling]
[chuckles] That's better.
Or should I say that's worse. [chuckles]
- Hm. What? How'd I get here? Hm.
By the Hanging Wizards of Mocklock.
Ugh. It smells like boiling vomit.
[frightened muttering]
* *
I've been befouled.
Huh?
Whoa! I can fly!
* *
I wonder if...
[straining]
[gasps] I have superpowers.
I'm a--a superhero.
I need a costume.
[triumphant dramatic music]
* *
Finally, it is done.
Behold world, it is I, Captain Counselor!
* *
For years, I was laughed at and called a nerd
for my love of superheroes.
Wait till the campers see me and my super powers now.
[indistinct excited chatter]
The meteor affected everyone in camp, not just me.
- Hey, what's with the outfit? Is it Halloween?
- I think they're his superhero jammies.
- Ooh.
- What's the C stand for? Clown Man?
- Captain Cornball?
-Caboose Man? -Compost Man?
[laughter]
[soft tense music]
- Oh yes, quite amusing.
But maybe perhaps you'd like to join me
in my league of superheroes?
- Superheroes? We ain't superheroes.
- Yeah, we're supervillains.
* *
- No. No!
* *
- Nice.
- It's Bubble Bass.
Bubble Bass is on the patch!
- Enjoy your nerdmares.
[both scream]
[cackles]
My next story, you all will learn,
stars your rich counselor, Missy Upturn.
- Oh, no. I'll give you $1 billion to let me go.
- I'm a ghost. I have no use for money.
- Then how about credit?
You can't see it. You can't feel it.
It's ghost money. [chuckles]
You could upgrade that broken-down tub of yours
for a luxury yacht. - Ooh.
Ghost money? I like that.
[chuckling]
[phone chiming]
- I just opened an unlimited line of credit
for you at my daddy's bank. - Ah.
Ooh!
Ah! [horn blasts]
Would you look at me? Master and commander.
All right, you don't get a scary story.
- Ho, ho! Yes.
- But you still get to be a patch.
- [screams]
- See ya in therapy! [both scream]
[cackles]
[laughter]
And what are you laughing at?
- We were laughing because you were laughing.
- Well, quit it!
My next yarn is strange, even absurd,
cause this tale's about counselor Squidward.
Where's Squidward?
- Oh, he vamoosed.
- Amscrayed.
- Skedaddled.
[babbling]
- Well, how'd he get away? - Looks like ink.
- Feels like ink.
- Tastes like ink!
- I can't tell his scary story without him here.
Man, that ruins my whole night!
- Whelp, being a squirrel of science,
I don't believe in ghosts.
But what I've seen here tonight is totally messed up!
[screams]
- And I was saving my scariest story for last.
Why do I even bother?
Hey, where'd you--
[duck quacks]
[quirky upbeat music]
- How do you turn this on?
- Hey, you! Get off of my cloud!
[snarls]
So, you kids wanna be in a scary story, huh?
- Not really, no. I guess I've grown out of that kid stuff.
- I'm just jaded. - Kid stuff? Jaded?
All right, here's something all kids are afraid of.
Being in trouble. [cackles]
[thunder rumbling]
- Where are we?
- We're in Campmaster Krabs' office.
Patrick, why are we here?
Are we in trouble?
- I don't know. This axe with our fingerprints
could have something to do with it.
- And that axe probably goes along with this severed head
of lettuce that we must have taken from the canteen.
[both gasp]
Campmaster Krabs? Is that you?
Is something wrong?
- Oh, don't worry.
It's nothing serious!
[evil laughter]
both: Yay!
- * Clown clowny clown clown ♪
- He's funny.
- I am not funny. I'm scary! [snarls]
[laughter]
- [snarls] [laughter]
[quirky energetic music]
* *
[both giggling]
* *
- [crying]
* *
- Ow!
[leaf blower whirring]
* *
- Looks like those clowning lessons we took
really paid off.
* *
- [growls]
They say dead men tell no tales
but I'm gonna have a whopper to tell after tonight.
I don't know how you two fish gizzards got the best of me.
- Oh, it was a snap.
- No! Don't snap your fingers.
- You mean like this? [snaps fingers]
- [high-pitched] Where am I? What happened?
Ah. Oh, no! This is my biggest fear!
I'm ten years old and back in summer camp!
- Look at Dutch Boy. What a cute little pirate.
- Avast!
You two scalawags are worse than any freebooters
I've ever had the misfortune to meet.
[grunting]
- He doesn't know how to snap his fingers yet.
Keep trying, Dutchy. You'll get it.
- I wanna go home! I wanna plunder!
I want my mommy!
[crying and babbling]
- Oh, everybody feels that way about camp at first.
You'll soon forget all about plundering.
We're gonna have so much fun.
[giggling]
[soft upbeat music]
[jellyfish buzzing]
* *
- [screams]
* *
- Ha-ha! [pants rip]
[laughter]
[peaceful upbeat music]
* *
- You still gotta eat it. Camp rules.
* *
- Oh, if only I could escape this blasted nightmare.
* *
[snaps fingers]
Yeah, I'm back.
- Hey! Congratulations, Dutchy.
You learned to snap your fingers.
- And now I'm gonna snap you like a couple of twigs.
[snarls]
Hey, where you going?
- Sorry, Dutch. It's past our bedtimes.
- Yeah, D. Thanks for the scary stories.
Not. [chuckles]
- [snarls]
- Oh, we mustn't leave a fire unattended.
* *
- Wait! Let me out first.
No! No! No!
[all yelp]
[sizzling]
- Dudes, is that a cookout I smell?
[screaming]
- [cackling] - Oh, SpongeBob. Your shirt.
- [cackling]
What the--I've been patched!
No! I hate summer camp!