The screen went black. The only sound left in the Chum Bucket was the steady, rhythmic thud of a heavy boot walking across the metal floor, and the faint, distorted whistling of a Texas campfire song.
Plankton leaned in, his tiny hands gripping the edge of the desk. "What is this? Some kind of experimental log?" Sandy Cheeks.mp4
Sandy appeared on screen. She wasn't wearing her air suit. She sat on her wooden stump, staring directly into the camera. Her eyes weren't their usual bright, energetic selves; they were wide, unblinking, and reflecting a light that didn't seem to come from the sun lamp. The screen went black
Plankton froze. "How... how does she know I’m watching? This is a recording!" and the faint