Have you ever stopped to think about SpongeBob? Oh, yeah. The ‘B’ is capitalized. Traumatic, right? Well, anyway. Our sponge friend works at the Krusty Krab, a burger joint. He works with a tall, grumpy bastard and a leech-boss of a crab.

Now, I personally have nothing to relate personnel-wise. The people I work with, I like them all. Almost all. I mean, if I don’t like them, it’s just because I’m not sure who they are or because they might have tried to shiv me when they started. Yeah, the risks of employing a lot of homeless people.

What I like about SpongeBob is the ethos – his ideals and principles. The sponge is dumb, right? That’s the gist of it. It’s a very Taoist approach to life. He’s as dumb as they make them, but he is happy and fulfilled by his job. Compassion, frugality, and humility. Those are the three treasures of Taoism. SpongeBob has no intention of becoming the greatest chef in the world. He spends his life flipping burgers and chatting with friends. In my personal opinion, that sponge is living the life.

When people started having weird role models like astronauts, scientists, and Superman, my role model was SpongeBob. From a young age, I could really empathize with the SquarePants dude. The thing about the little yellow friend is that he acts without intent. He loves what he does; he is what he does. But he doesn’t have to try to be what he does.

So, when I’m flipping my burgers, ‘my’ as in ‘I’m the one eating them,’ I can’t help but think about the little sponge. Why? Well, Stan just asked me…

“Joey, I need to know how you did that.”

Yeah, he didn’t really ask, did he?

I couldn’t help but conjure my inner SpongeBob in this matter. Why? Well, because I really need something to help me decide what I’m going to do here. I have read extensively about the old grandmasters of literature and the great philosophers of old – as a side note, the modern ones are just arrogant little shits. So, I had to choose my own spiritual guide. And indeed, I found SpongeBob to be the aptest. Action without intent.

“I saw that someone needed help, Stanimal. And I used the tools I had to help. I have a couple of secrets, but do I need to tell you everything? I mean, that’s the real question. Like, do you need to know? Or is it that you want to? If you really need to know, I can tell you.”

As I mentioned in the past, the old man towers over me. He’s tremendously tall and imposing. Plus, he retains some of his regal disposition in how he stands tall and proud.

“You promised my niece that you would subjugate the war, Joey. Now, you’re ignoring the future duels to help one woman who has a terminal disease? Instead of preparing yourself, you are studying magic that will be useless to you in a fight. How do you think you can take care of a war if you are already spiraling and wasting time? You should focus on—”

“You are wrong,” I tell him with a quick wink before looking back at my juicy burgers.

“You wield magic you shouldn’t be able to cast. And it’s the kind of magic that in a war—”

“Stanimal,” I say with a snort, “didn’t you hear me? You are wrong.”

That stumps the old man.

We have a bubble of [Silence] around us to avoid eavesdropping. It also muddles the movements of our lips, as Stanimal once explained. But now, we are both silent – and the spell is useless.

I take a brush and put some mustard-based spice mix on top of the meat, removing the buns from the grill for a second. Next time, I should try making some brisket.

“Wrong?”

One word. It comes after a minute of silence. The word is late, awkward, and ignorant.

“Yeah, Stanimal. A person is dying in front of us. She has a terrible curse, something so wicked and deep that few people in the entire world, in all the history of this planet, could heal it. Healing such a thing, by the way, also means finding a cure for similar problems. And eliminating a great weapon from a [Necromancer]’s arsenal. If you want an idiot who thinks of duels instead of saving people, go ahead. I guess you will find plenty of douchebags at the Nine Towers Academy, all thinking like you. Fucking wasting time, Stanimal? Really?” I look at him, disappointed.

“When I say you are wrong, I mean it. You could have thought about what I meant, right? But no, let’s worry about the spoiled brats at the academy. And by the way, just for your information, I think I can already take all of the idiots my age. You have been on edge since you came back from the court, man. And I don’t care if the royals are doing whatever – this is not the Stanimal I know. I’ll take care of the stuff that needs taking care of. Don’t worry. And if you want to know my secrets, just ask. But don’t give me this shit anymore, please. And just know that whenever you need something from me, you can just talk to me. I’m not an idiot. You are not one either. So, if you don’t need anything else, I’d like to eat lunch with my friend Stanimal, not with the douchebag you are being right now.”

I see Stan freeze. Yeah, I gave him pause. It’s understandable.

What I don’t like, though, is his attitude.

Now, he seems to be understanding what I mean, at least from what I can glimpse through his irises. But, before he can go back to the dining room, I speak again.

“Stanimal, man, this is SpongeBob 101 – I’ll explain who that is later. Or it’s deep philosophical Taoism. You choose. But it basically means moving toward your objective by pursuing yourself, not the objective. Helping that woman will give me incredible power. But that’s not the point. The point is to help her. When you pursue your own path, you become unstoppable. Or at least, that’s what I believe. I already have the means to parry more than you could even imagine. Now, I’m lacking attack and defense. Attack will come from healing. From helping. And I consider that the noblest of things. Isn't that the deepest thing when a blade can heal and hurt? Isn’t that a better king than the one you have been or the one you would want me to be? Or do you need me only to harm? Well, I’m not that kind of a guy. So, by the time we get to the academy, Stanimal, I might be able to kick more asses than you might think.”

I sling the burgers onto the buns and, after pouring an ungodly amount of homemade ketchup on them, I sit down at the table.