DoodleBob Redrawn

Chapter 4: The Pencil's 1st Mark

DoodleBob was too angered to answer his maker's question, so he kept approaching SpongeBob.

With no possible escape from his pursuer, SpongeBob frantically yelled to Patrick, "Call the authorities, Patrick!!!"

Patrick, still struck at what he's seeing, ran towards the phone.

DoodleBob was now in a situation, one where he would end up attacking SpongeBob while his friend calls 9-1-1, or-

While DoodleBob was still thinking of his possibilities, Patrick ran to the phone, but there was a big problem surrounding that action.

"SpongeBob?"

"Yes, Patrick?"

"What do I dial?"

DoodleBob couldn't stop laughing. This is hysterical if the one guy who could get him in trouble couldn't dial 3 simple numbers. Even the drawing knew, and he's been around much shorter than Patrick, who was now 39 years old. Yes, Patrick is still dumb.

He's gotten smarter, but then, not much changed after that. He thinks like he's 10.

This was easy, DoodleBob thought.

He jumped at his maker.

SpongBob yelled, "PATRICK! Are you joking?! Fine. Dial 9-"

DoodleBob punches SpongeBob in the chest, knocking him back into his new flatscreen TV. He didn't feel much, but it winded him. After all, the dude's a sponge. He's made for this.

SpongeBob tried again. "The number is 9-" 

DoodleBob knew what SpongeBob was doing and headbutted him. SpongeBob winced and fell into the kitchen. Gary got scared since he saw SpongeBob and hurried out of the kitchen. 

While all this chaos was happening, Patrick decided to guess and randomly dial any 3 numbers. At least he knew that.

"Ummmmmm..." he thought.

He tried 9-6-4.

Nope. It was just beeping for the next 5 seconds.

9-1-3.

No.

He went on and on, while DoodleBob was beating SpongeBob up, literally wiping the floor with him.

He roundhouse kicked SpongeBob so hard he rolled 4 times and smashed into an expensive desk before getting up. Pencils fell from the space in the desk.

SpongeBob got up with a black eye and some minor bruises.

"O...kay. So y-you want to play that way..." SpongeBob barely managed to say.

He tried using some of his karate moves, or as he calls it "ker-a-tay". He hasn't fought or even trained for 4 years. That's because in the 15 years that passed, he's become very skilled. He even won awards in martial arts competitions. Those were now on the floor, smashed by DoodleBob in their scuffle.

He runs in for a karate chop.

"Hi-ya-" 

He stood no chance.

"Yaaaaaaargh!", the raging drawing screeched as he ran and sucker punched SpongeBob, right in a nerve. 

He was out cold. DoodleBob had won.

He looked down at the pencils scattered on the floor. It reminded him of the everlasting power he had with the magic pencil. He knew, though, that it was not possible again. He overheard SpongeBob and his pink friend arranging plans to get rid of the pencil. It was obvious that they did what they said they'd do. He'd do anything to get that pencil back, even if it meant that he had to go hundreds of miles to find it.

Now it was Patrick's turn, but that all apparently changed.

"Got it", he yelled as he finally called 9-1-1. It took him 10 minutes and 56 different numbers, but he did it. Go Pat.

"9-1-1, what's your emergency?", the operator asked.

"PLEASE HELP, LADY, A CRAZY PERSON'S HURTING MY FRIEND AND WANTS TO KILL ME!!!!!", Patrick yelled hysterically on the phone.

"Remain calm, help is on the-----------------"

She never finished her sentence, and there was not even a ringing or beep emitting from the phone. He looks and sees DoodleBob with the phone line.

He tore the line.

Patrick got scared, and DoodleBob, with his little knowledge of American English, said these simple yet fearful words.

"You are next."