 This was a public service announcement that only aired twice on Nick at night throughout the month. It was sponsored by the Office of National Drug Control Policy, or the ONDCP for short, and funded by Nickelodeon themselves. The times that this PSA came up were randomized, but still very late at night, with one of which being three in the morning. I was one of the viewers. Each time it came up wasn't expected, and I didn't get to see the first airing of it. Part of me was expecting someone from either organization to post it online. For some reason, they didn't, and I didn't get many pictures. The closest thing I could find was a rare still from a Twitter post, who clarified in it that it aired only two times, but that's about it. The PSA was about three and a half minutes long. My guess is that based on the visuals and metaphors used, it was meant to bring awareness to meth abuse. It started with SpongeBob running with Patrick through the jellyfish fields, having the time of their lives before SpongeBob hears his watch beep. He takes a look at it and puts on a surprised look, before telling Patrick that his new bottle of bubble soap is coming in the mail, and he has to go home to give it a test drive. Patrick waves goodbye to him as he leaves. A bubble transition comes by, and it shows SpongeBob walking home to a decrepit looking fish man, holding a small box with bubble formula and a cartoon kalabash pipe inside. SpongeBob takes the box from the fish and shakes his hand vigorously, before rushing inside. The fish walks off to, pulling out a fat stack of cash from his pocket and fondling it. It cuts to SpongeBob jumping onto his buoy chair and reading the instructions that come with the bubble formula, before pouring it into the pipe. Before he can even blow into it, Gary interrupts him. Oh Gary, it's amazing. I got the new stay of the art bubbles early. For some reason, you blow it with a pipe. But still, I can't wait. What do you mean I should refund it? It's just bubbling there bear, don't you worry? The scene cuts to SpongeBob's wall, with a calendar nailed to it. The page reads, Saturday 14th, but then the page falls off and it shows Sunday 15th instead. As the page is falling off, you can hear SpongeBob inhaling and exhaling the pipe in the background. SpongeBob can then be seen walking into his house, groaning and tired with a very small barnacle on his cheek. He would sit down and scratch it for a moment before pulling out the bubble pipe, walking to Barry right next to him. Or a bad day at work, Gary. Crops paid me with Jack nematodes, Squidward got on my case again, the customers were impatient as always. Whatever, nothing a little TV and bubble can't fix. I already told you, they're just bubbles. They can't hurt me, quit being such a scaredy snail all the time. The same calendar sequence as before would show up, now switching to Monday 16th. SpongeBob could be seen sitting on his buoy chair, eyes wide open while staring at his titty. The background music was more muffled than before, but it also had the ambience of commercials playing along with it. The room had little exposure to light, the only light coming from SpongeBob's television. SpongeBob looked bad, with slight wrinkles covering his face and a few more small barnacles appearing compared to before. His teeth looked yellow, and his lower eyelids were filled with crust, presumably from lack of sleep. Gary would slither in, looking tired as well. He would lift himself up and show his empty stomach to SpongeBob before mewing with no nourishment. What, what do you want this time? Go get some food in the pantry, or something, I don't know. Yes, there is food in the pantry, I made sure of it. Now let me watch TV! Meow, meow. Fine, if it makes you shut up, I'll go check. SpongeBob would then stand up and stumble for a moment, walking over to the kitchen while scratching his face repeatedly, the barnacles worsening. SpongeBob would then open the pantry, revealing that there was no food in there. He sighs, and goes to check the fridge for food. Nothing in there either. He then turns to the poor hungry snail and mungles. Mew, I'll get more tomorrow. Meow, be patient Gary, sheesh. SpongeBob would then walk out of frame, leaving the starving Gary in the kitchen alone, in the darkness. Before SpongeBob could sit back down in his seat, he hears a knock on the door. Even with pure exhaustion, he would slink over to the door and open it to reveal a rather irritated Mr. Krabs. SpongeBoy, meat profits are plummeting, and you're not at the grill. I didn't tell you to have a day off. Get off you butt and go make some patties, boy. The customers are rioting- Now. No. No. You're not to tell me no. Now you're asking to get fired, boy. Get that moner at the register to make your slap, Eugene. I quit. With that, SpongeBob slams the door in Eugene's face, muffling his embryos and barks. Cut to the calendar again. This time, the walls behind it are beginning to mold with black smears. The date has changed to Tuesday 17th. SpongeBob was now heavily wrinkled and had a horrific amount of barnacles littering his face, with some black substance surrounding his lips, presumably his own saliva from the amount of bubbles he had blown. His teeth were beginning to slowly rot, with one front tooth being chipped. His eyes were still a sickly yellow, with his pupils shrunken into small squiggles. Gary was now lying on his side, gasping for air, his body now much more starved than before. His TV was now reduced to a color pattern and a long beep. It cuts to outside of SpongeBob's house, with Sandy knocking on the door, and Squidward standing impatiently, with a face of pure annoyance. SpongeBob opens the door, annoyed just as much as Squidward is and scratching his face vigorously. What? Um, SpongeBob, it's been a hot minute. I'm worried about your buddy. You haven't come out in days. What's going on? That's what you came over for. You asked me that. To waste my time when I could be bubbling. Whoa, slow down there, bud. I just got here. What did I do to you? You're here to take my bubbles, aren't you? Aren't you? First, it was Gary whining about food, then crabs came by barking at me to work. Now I gotta deal with you two barnacle heads. SpongeBob, please! Before Sandy can even finish, Squidward's face scrunches up and turns red with seething irritability, before approaching SpongeBob and getting in his face, poking his chest a few times. I've been at the register sweating like a sea dog, doing your work, for two days straight. I keep getting screamed at by the customers if their order isn't exactly how they want it. I'm a cashier, not a fry cook. I can't take this anymore! Get back to work, or I'll drag you there, you pee brain! SpongeBob's eyes squint up for a moment, and Sandy gasps with fear before he grabs Squidward's collar and puts his face against his. Touch me! Touch me! Touch me like that again! I dare you! Do it! Do it! I'll kill you! Do it! Squidward was now fearing for his life as he ran back to his house and locked his door. Sandy, still shaking from the reaction she had, would attempt to pull SpongeBob from his doorway, but she ended up getting picked up by her feet and flown against the side of his house. Getting up and gently squeezing her back from the sudden hit, she looked back at SpongeBob as she walked off. What happened to you? With that, SpongeBob slams his door, causing a few bubbles to shoot out and float upward. However, the door would slightly creak back open, indicating that he slammed it to the point where it didn't close. He would make his way back to his chair, with Gary now limp and surrounded by flies. The camera zooms in on SpongeBob's disgusting face as he stares at the collar pattern on the TV. Cut back to the calendar for the very last time. This time, the calendar would go three days forward, with the wall behind it molding more and more, until finally, it stops on Saturday 21st. It cut back to SpongeBob, now sitting on the ground, staring at his TV, now replaced with static. His teeth and gums were now decaying to a horrible degree, with his pupils now messy, scratched lines. He had every condition that was mentioned before, albeit much worsened, except his clothes were now drenched with moist stains, his holes were dripping with sweat, he looked pale, and he looked as though he were drying up. Poor Gary was now reduced to a slithering mound of two defect swarms, acting as one living organism, and everything in SpongeBob's house was now stained in a dark substance. He would scratch his face, again and again, not even stopping, before letting out a crazed laugh. He'd turn to his pipe and bubble solution, almost empty from how much he had been bubbling, before speaking. SpongeBob would quickly grab the pipe and begin blowing into it once again, but this time, he'd freeze for a moment, and drop it, before clutching his tie, coughing and wheezing up dark bubbles. All with a rotten smile on his face. The background would play one long ringing noise, one that you would hear if someone fired a shotgun right next to you. SpongeBob would fall over, his arm extended over the floor, with his yellow crusty eyes rolling backward. This would go on for a few seconds, the view getting slightly blurrier, until SpongeBob's door could be heard opening. A light from the doorway would shroud SpongeBob's dying state as a gasp and scream from Patrick bellowed out through his house. Then Patrick's scream is suddenly cut off. Everything cuts to black. Before the sponsor card came up, crediting OMDCP and Nickelodeon together, light yellow text would fade into the screen. No sound, no music, nothing, before one of the Nickette nights it comes faded into view, ending the PSA. All it takes is one cuff. Life isn't a cartoon.