Mr. Krabs: Plankton, are you saying it was all just a scheme to you? And you felt nothing? Plankton: You’re crazy! I’m out of here, and one day, the formula will be mine! Mark it. [He exits. Mr. Krabs scoops up some of the remains of Cashina in each of his claws and holds them close to his face, trying not to cry. He cries anyway. A doorman enters the room.] Doorman: Oh, hey buddy. I want you to know: although your wife just ran out on you, you still have to tip me.

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