A New Squid in Town

7. Dinner Reservation

The following week gradually passed by, Squidward attending his job at the Krusty Krab as usual. Unsurprisingly, there were several disrespectful customers scattered throughout the workweek, but he wasn't going to let it get to him. Sunday finally came around at long last. He'd recently received his paycheck, cashed it out, and now he was headed for his humble abode.

Squidward arrived at his Moai building, entering through the front door and gracefully closing it behind him. He then proceeded to vacuum his living room. When he was through, he called Octavius on his shellular device (haha) and sat down on the couch as he patiently waited for him to pick up. Little did he know the squid was currently over at Squilliam's place.

"Hello?" Octavius answered the phone on the other line, his tone filled with curiosity. "Who is this?" "This is the house of undiscovered talent," said Squidward, letting out a small chuckle. He was admittedly a little nervous, but he did his best to maintain his composure. "But really. It's Squidward." "Oh, hey!" Octavius's tone changed into glee upon hearing the voice of his friend. "We still on for tonight?"

"Of course." Squidward nodded politely. "But instead of our musical routine, I was hoping we could grab a bite to eat for dinner."

"Certainly. What did you have in mind?"

At that inconvenient moment, Squillam was stepping out of his luxurious bathtub. He brushed past his golden toilet paper holder, encrusted with various jewels. He slipped his favorite, crushed-red robe with maroon lining over his body and exited the bathroom, heading downstairs via the elevator. In the colossal living room, chandeliers dangling from the ceiling, Octavius was painting a portrait of Squilliam, his brushstrokes fluid and delicate. The piece was coming along rather nicely. Octavius held a phone in his free hand, which he was using to converse with Squidward. Squilliam heard the faint sound of a nasally voice on the other line, and he immediately became suspicious. Hiding behind a wall, he decided to eavesdrop on their conversation, not making a single sound.

"I was thinking we could dine at Fancy this evening," said Squidward, in an attempt to sound more upscale, leaning back and propping his elbow on one of the pillows.

"Fancy?" Octavius blinked a few times. "That place is costly. Are you sure-"

"Positive!" Squidward let out a loud, awkward laugh. "Believe me; I've got it ALL covered. You won't have to worry about a thing."

"All right, sure," politely responded Octavius. "What time would you like to head to dinner?"

"I'll see if I can get our reservation for 8:30," Squidward said.

"Great!" The two of them said their goodbyes, and Octavius hung up the phone, resuming the painting. From behind the wall, a mischievous smirk appeared upon Squilliam's face. 'I know that nasally laugh anywhere,' thought the upper-class octopus. 'This is all too perfect.' After that, he casually strutted into the living room to meet up with Octavius as though nothing had happened.

"How's my portrait coming along, Octavius, dear?" he asked, striking an elegant pose for his companion. "It's great, Sir," answered the squid with an unknowing, optimistic look. "I just need to blend in some of the paints for additional shading, and it should be complete in no time."

"Besides myself and my gorgeous unibrow, you know what else is great?" inquired Squilliam, leaning in close. "You are." He affectionately pinched Octavius's cheek. "You're one of the most divine artists I know."

"Gee, thanks!" Octavius couldn't help but feel flattered as he rubbed his cheek. "That's very kind of you, Sir." Of course, it was an act, but Octavius didn't know his boss well enough to decipher that. Not to mention he didn't know about his rivalry with Squidward. "Why don't you take the rest of the evening off?" suggested Squilliam, patting Octavius on the shoulder. "You've worked very hard, and you deserve a little time to yourself." He reached into his pocket, pulling out about $1,000.00. He handed the cash to a surprised Octavius. "Here's a tip for your exquisite service, darling." "Wow!" Octavius was flattered. "Thanks, Mr. Fancyson. I appreciate it. That's so generous of you, Sir."

"Mm, but of course," answered the red-robed cephalopod. "Now, as much I would love to continue our conversation, I must take care of a few important matters. First, my platinum unibrow glitter is fading, and my servants must reapply it at once. Then, they need to prepare my catered dinner. Have a nice evening, Mr. Calamaro." "Will do." Octavius gave his boss a polite wave and packed up his belongings, ready to leave the premises.

Squilliam headed upstairs, a devious look present on his countenance. He entered his office, sitting down in an oversized, red-velvet-colored chair in the heart of the room. He opened one of the drawers and pulled out a phone book, rapidly flipping through the pages until he finally found it.

He stumbled across the phone number of both SpongeBob and Patrick.