2/2 THE MOOON Karen couldn't help but giggle at his befuddled state. His usual stoic demeanor was nowhere to be seen, replaced by a childlike wonder and confusion. He tried to sit up again, his movements clumsy and uncoordinated. "Stay still," she said, placing a firm but gentle hand on his shoulder. "How... how's it... it over?" he slurred, his mouth feeling like it was stuffed with cotton trying to form words around his thick tongue. The nurse, who had seen this reaction before, offered a reassuring pat on the arm. "You're all done, Mr. Plankton. The anesthesia is just taking its time to wear off. You're going to feel a bit funny for a while." Plankton's eye rolled back, his body lolling to the side like a ragdoll's. "I can't feel my face," he mumbled, his words barely coherent. "It's the anesthesia," she explained, her voice soft and soothing. "It'll wear off soon." Plankton's eye rolled back in his head, and his antennae flopped to the sides as if they had lost their will to stand tall. "I've been... I've been... to the mooon!" he exclaimed, his slurred words tripping over each other. The nurse and Karen couldn't help but laugh at his nonsensical rambling. "The moon?" Karen managed to get out between giggles. "You mean the dentist's chair?" Plankton's eye snapped back to hers, his antennae perking up slightly. "No, no... the moo... the cheesy moo!" he insisted, his speech still slurred and his gaze unfocused. His hand waved in the air, trying to describe something that clearly only existed in his anesthesia-induced haze. Karen's laughter grew louder as she watched him. "The cheesy moon?" she repeated, trying to make sense of his gibberish. The nurse's chuckles grew to a full-blown laugh, shaking her whole body. "It's ok Mr. Plankton," she said, wiping a tear from her eye. "You're safe here." Plankton's antennae waved erratically, his mouth forming another round of slurred syllables. "The... the... shmoobly wobble!" he exclaimed, his eye glazed over with a far-off look. "Whewe's shmoobly go?" Karen couldn't hold back her laughter anymore. "Oh, Plankton, you're so funny when you're like this!" she exclaimed, her voice full of mirth. "Fum-fum," Plankton slurred. "I'm not fum-fum," he protested, his voice a mix of indignation and the lingering effects of the anesthesia. His antennae wobbled. "Wha’ you do wiff Mx shmoobly?" "Your mouth is just numb," she explained, her voice shaking with laughter. "You had wisdom teeth removed." "Widom... teef?" Plankton repeated, his voice a mix of slurs and half-sounds. "The... the shmoobly wobble took them?" Karen's laughter grew. "No, Plankton, your wisdom teeth. They were removed." Plankton's eye searched hers, his expression one of utter perplexity. "But... but where's the shmoobly wobble?" he demanded, his mouth a mess of numbness and anesthesia. Karen couldn't contain her laughter any longer, bending over in her seat, her hand over her screen. The nurse was equally amused, her shoulders shaking with silent giggles. "Shmoobly wobble?" she managed to ask between gasps. "What's a shmoobly wobble?" Plankton's antennae waved with the vigor of a drunken sailor. "It's... it's a... a vnorbly snork!" he exclaimed, his words a delightful jumble that made no sense in the sober world. Karen's laughter was infectious, and even the nurse found it hard to maintain her professional demeanor. "A vnorbly snork?" she repeated, her smile growing wider. "What does that do?" Plankton's face scrunched up as he tried to gather his thoughts. "It... it makes... makes the teef... it makes the teef go bye-bye!" he exclaimed, his antennae waving wildly. The nurse covered her mouth, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Oh, I see," she said, nodding as if she understood. "The shmoobly wobble is quite a character." Karen wiped a tear from her screen, her laughter subsiding. "I think we should get you home, sweetheart," she said, her voice still thick with mirth. "You need to rest." Plankton's antennae twitched, his gaze firmly locked on the nurse. "The... the... snibble-bobble?" he declared. "Take the snibble-bobble home, Karen..." The nurse's eyes twinkled with humor and she nodded. "Yes, Mr. Plankton. The snibble- bobble will take good care of you at home." Plankton's mouth opened and closed a few times, trying to form words that simply would not come out right. "Karen, did you... did you see the... the... the... floobly-doobly?" Karen's laughter bubbled up again. "The floobly- doobly?" she repeated, her voice wobbling with mirth. "What's a floobly-doobly?" Plankton looked at her with confusion. "Huh? The whath?" He asked her. Karen tried to calm her laughter. "The floobly-doobly, Plankton," she said, smiling broadly. "You mentioned it just now." Plankton's eye searched hers, his thoughts a jumble. "I... I don't know," he murmured, his voice trailing off. With the nurse's help, Karen managed to get him into a sitting position, his movements sluggish and clumsy. His legs felt like jellyfish, flailing about with no sense of direction. "Come on," she coaxed, helping him stand. Plankton's eye remained half-closed as he stumbled towards the door. The hallway looked like a twisted kelp forest, and his body felt like a ship adrift without a compass. The nurse provided a steady arm, guiding him down the corridor. "Keep walking," she instructed, but with each step, Plankton seemed to drift closer to sleep. His head bobbed, his eyelid fighting a losing battle against the siren's call of slumber. "Plankton, stay with me," Karen urged, her voice a gentle reminder of the world around him. But his body had other ideas, his legs giving out under him. The nurse caught him, her laugh now a warm chuckle at his plight. "It's the anesthesia," she explained. "It'll wear off soon. Just keep talking to him, it'll help keep him alert." Karen nodded. "Look, Plankton," she said. "Can you see the little fishy?" Plankton's eye snapped open, his antennae shooting up. "Fishy?" he repeated. He took a few wobbly steps before his legs gave out once more, and he leaned heavily on the nurse. "Whoa, there," she said, steadying him with a laugh. "We're almost to the car." Plankton's antennae drooped, his eye half-closed again. "So... so tiwed," he mumbled. "We're almost there," Karen assured. The nurse opened the door to the waiting area. Plankton blinked slowly, his eyelid drooping once again. The bright light from outside was like a siren's song, lulling him back into the depths of sleep. "Come on, Plankton, stay awake," Karen encouraged. But the world was spinning, and the siren's call of sleep was growing stronger. With each step closer to the car, his eyelid grew heavier, and his mind swam with a haze of disorientation. The floor beneath his feet felt like waves, and he stumbled again, his hand reaching out for support that wasn't there. "Keep talking," the nurse whispered to Karen, her eyes sparkling with amusement. Karen took a deep breath, forcing her own laughter down. "Remember the time we found the treasure?" she asked, hoping to keep him alert. Plankton's antennae perked up slightly, his sluggish eye focusing on hers. "Tweasure?" he murmured. The nurse nodded encouragingly, and Plankton took another step, his body swaying like a piece of kelp in the current. "Yeah," he mumbled, "the... the... goldy wobble." His words were slurred, his mind lost in the fog of the anesthesia. They made it to the car, and Karen gently guided him into the passenger seat. She buckled him in, his body already slack with the weight of exhaustion. "Tell me more," she said, trying to keep his thoughts on the treasure they had found together, anything to keep his mind engaged. But Plankton's eye weas closing again, his head lolling against the headrest. "Goldy... wobble... " he murmured, his words barely audible. "It's okay, sweetheart," Karen said, her voice soothing. "You can rest." With a contented sigh, Plankton gave in to the warm embrace of slumber, his body going limp. Karen started the engine and drove carefully, her mind racing with the events of the day. The thought of her stoic husband, reduced to a slurring mess, was too absurd to fully comprehend. Yet, there was a tenderness in his vulnerability that made her love him all the more.

1/2 THE MOOON Karen took a seat by the window. She could feel the tension in the room, a palpable thing that thickened the air. The dentist, a man with a name tag that read "Dr. McFinley," entered the room. Plankton swallowed hard as he took his place in the chair. The nurse began prepping him, wrapping a bib around and placing in his mouth a prop that looked like a doorstop, designed to keep his mouth open wide. "Now, Mr. Plankton," Dr. McFinley said, "We're going to give you some anesthesia to make sure you don't feel a thing. It might taste a bit funny, but just relax and let it do it's job." The nurse administers the anesthetic into Plankton's gum, and he felt a cold spread through his jaw, a strange tingling that grew more intense with each passing moment as his mouth grew numb. "Ok Plankton, I want you to start counting backwards from twenty." Plankton took a deep breath. "Twenty... nineteen... eighteen..." With each number, his voice grew softer, his eyelid heavier. By the time he reached fifteen, his speech was slurred, the words barely audible. Karen watched with a mix of concern and fascination as his count grew less deliberate. "Thir...four... th...thwee..." His counting trailed off, and his head lolled to the side with a gentle snore. The nurse gave a knowing smile and patted Plankton's shoulder. "He's under," she assured Karen as she gently moved his head back into place. Karen's gaze followed every move Dr. McFinley made. The chair leaned back, and Plankton's snores grew softer as his consciousness retreated. She watched as the doctor's gloved hands moved precision over Plankton's slack jaw, his face a mask of concentration. She squeezed her own hand into a fist, nails digging into her palm, as the instruments moved in and out of his mouth, a silent ballet of extraction. The chair's hydraulics hissed as it tipped back, and a bright light was shone directly into Plankton's open mouth. The nurse held his mouth open wider, her grip firm but gentle. Dr. McFinley's eyes narrowed in concentration, and his hands worked with a steady rhythm. Plankton's body remained still. The nurse leaned in closer, assisting Dr. McFinley with a suction device, clearing away the excess saliva and blood. Karen forced herself to keep looking, to be there for Plankton, even if he wasn't aware of it. The doctor's face was a study in focus, his forehead creased with the effort of maneuvering around the obstinate tooth. The relief was palpable, even though Plankton remained blissfully unaware of the progress. The nurse's eyes flitted between her monitor and Plankton's face, ensuring his vitals remained stable while offering quiet encouragement to the doctor. Karen watched as the doctor's pliers gripped the tooth and began to apply steady pressure, his knuckles whitening with the effort. The tooth didn't want to give up without a fight, resisting with a stubbornness that mirrored Plankton's own spirit. The tension in the room grew, and Karen found herself leaning forward, her screen glued to the doctor's hands. The pliers twisted and pulled, and she could see a bead of sweat form on the doctor's brow. Finally the tooth gave way, and it was out. Karen couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief. The nurse quickly moved in to clean and clamp the area, while Dr. McFinley turned to the final tooth. Plankton's snores grew more peaceful. With the same methodical care, Dr. McFinley began to loosen the last tooth. The pliers clamped down, and the chair's light cast eerie shadows across the room. Plankton's snores grew deeper, his body tensing slightly. Finally, the last tooth was free. The stitching process began. Karen had never seen someone so vulnerable, even though he was unconscious. Each stitch brought him one step closer to being whole again, and she felt a strange sense of pride watching the doctor's skilled hands. Dr. McFinley's fingers moved nimbly, weaving in and out of the gum line. The tiny sutures looked like black threads on a red canvas, a delicate art form in the steady hands of a master. The room was silent except for the occasional beep of the machines and the soft swish of the nurse's gloves. Plankton's face remained a picture of peaceful oblivion. The nurse handed over the sutures with a practiced ease, and Dr. McFinley went to tie them off, one by one. Karen watched the doctor's hands as they moved, the sutures forming neat little knots in Plankton's swollen gums. It was a dance of care and precision, a silent battle against pain that Plankton was blessed to not feel. His mouth, usually so expressive and full of life, was now a numb battlefield, his features slack and vulnerable. "It is done," said Dr. McFinley, his voice cutting through the taut silence. The chair was brought back to an upright position, and Plankton's head was gently cradled as they removed the mouth prop. His mouth was still open. The doctor stepped back, wiping his brow with the back of his gloved hand. "Your husband did very well. The extraction was successful." Plankton's chest rose and fell with deep, even breaths, his face pale and serene. The nurse began to clean him up, her movements efficient but gentle. She removed the bib, dabbed at the corners of his mouth. Plankton's eye remains closed. Karen studied his face, his features relaxed in sleep, his mouth slightly ajar. The sight was both peaceful and painfully vulnerable, and she couldn't help but feel a pang of protectiveness. As the minutes ticked by, his snores grew less frequent and his breathing grew more even. The nurse, noticing Karen's worried gaze, leaned over to whisper, "It's normal for patients to have some funny reactions when coming out of anesthesia. They might say things that don't make sense, or their body might do some funny things. It's the anesthesia wearing off, nothing to worry about. They might even act like they're a bit drunk, or just sleepy for today. It's all perfectly normal." Her words brought a hint of comfort to Karen, who nodded, wondering with excitement and fear what state Plankton would be in when he awoke. She had read about the disorientation that could accompany anesthesia but had never witnessed it firsthand. The first signs of movement from Plankton were subtle, a twitch of his antennae, and Karen leaned in closer in anticipation. "Plankton," she whispered, squeezing his hand. "It's over." His eye fluttered open, lid heavy with sleep and confusion. "It's ok," she soothed, stroking his arm. "You're all done." He blinked slowly, his eye unfocused, looking around the white-walled room as if trying to remember where he was. His mouth was still numb. "Karen?" he mumbled. "I'm here," she said, her voice calm and steady. "The surgery is over, sweetheart. You're going to be ok." Plankton's eye searched hers, his pupil dilated and unfocused. "Wha...what happen'd?" he slurred, his words coming out thick and slow. Karen chuckled softly, her heart swelling with love and relief. "You had your wisdom teeth removed, remember?" Plankton's eye widened, then narrowed as he tried to recall the events of the day. His mouth felt like a cotton field, and his tongue was a clumsy intruder, thick and unresponsive. "I... Don' member," he murmured, his voice still slurred and distant. The nurse chuckled under her mask, "It's the medication, dear. It'll wear off in a bit." Plankton tried to sit up, but his body felt like it had been filled with sand. Karen gently pushed him back down, laughing at his groggy protests. His eye searched the room. "Whewe am I?" he slurred, his antennae waving about. "You're at the dentist," Karen reminded him, her voice filled with amusement. "You had your wisdom teeth removed." Plankton's expression was that of a man who had just been told he had swum to the moon. "Dentist?" he repeated, his voice thick and uncertain. "Teef?" His hand flopped up to his mouth, his fingers probing the swollen gums. "My moufs gone!" he exclaimed, his words slurred and astonished. The nurse chuckled sympathetically. "The numbness will wear off, but for now, try to relax." Plankton's eye blinked slowly, and he looked at his hand as if it belonged to someone else. "My teef," he said again, his voice a mix of disbelief and confusion. He looked around the room, his gaze unfocused and glassy, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. The nurse and Karen exchanged a knowing glance. "Yeah, you're missing a few now," Karen said, trying to keep her voice even. Plankton's eye grew wider, his antennae standing at full alert. "I'm not... I'm not drunk," he protested, his words slurring. The nurse laughed gently, "No, Mr. Plankton, you're just coming out of anesthesia."