Connection terminated. I’m sorry to interrupt ye, Chip, if anyone even remembers that there character, but I’m afraid you’ve been hornswoggled. Ye ain't here to obtain me secret formula, nor have you been called here by the individual ye assume. Although ye have indeed been called. Ye have all been called into a labyrinth o' sounds an' smells, misdirection an' misfortune. A labyrinth with no exit, a maze with no prize. Ye don't even realize that there ye be trapped. Yer hungrr fer Krabby Patties has driven ye in endless circles, hooked on a line from the heavens that ye always seem close to escapin' from, yet somehow still endin' to the sky in a gift shop. Ye can’t fool me this time, Plankton.

An' to ye, me prized fry cook, who somehow mastered this here job not intended fer ye. Congratulations on getting to friday, sailor, but I 'ave a feelin' that this here isn’t what ye wanna do. I‘m already countin' pennies in me office as we speak. I’m not actually as near as it sounds, I’m just speakin' over that there voice box thingy. This here place will be rewritten off in me taxes, an' the memory of everythin' that started this here be ignored in subsequent episodes, as per most o' our adventures.

An' to ye robots trapped in the corridors, be still an' give me yer wallets. They don’t belong to ye, they belong to me bank account. Fer most o' ye, I believe there is a mutual agreement we could make, waitin' fer ye after ye give me me refunds fer this here convoluted theft scheme. Although, fer one o' ye, Davy Jones’ locker has opened to swallow ye hole, so don’t keep the Flyin' Dutchman waiting, old friend.

Me daughter, if ye can hear me, I knew ye would return as well. It’s in yer nature to be rebellious an' hang out with mates. Ye should be sorry on that there day, the day ye went out without me knowledge an' came aft like it didn’t happen. And then, what became o' ye. I should have known ye wouldn’t be content to just be grounded, not me daughter. I couldn’t punish ye then, so I’m fixin' to punish ye now. It’s time to rest, fer ye, and fer them who be hiding in the bushes hoping I don’t notice them recordin' all this here. This here ends fer all o' us. End communication.