The next morning.

Taylor, who felt a headache all over and his head was swollen, got up from his little bed and looked at the sunlight outside shining through the round window. He then looked at the flowers and plants he had raised for a long time, as well as the white coat and white pants on the clothes hanger.

Taylor just felt that his head was extremely painful.

It felt like someone had beaten me up severely.

Creak...

Just as Taylor was thinking with his hand on his forehead, the door suddenly opened, and Squidward, with an apologetic look on his face, brought a portion of sea milk and some butterfly seaweed bread on a tray.

"Squidward? You......"

After seeing Squidward, Taylor remembered that he seemed to have gone to Squidward's house last night to discuss art and get closer to him. Just as he was about to speak, Squidward suddenly interrupted him and said with guilt.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Taylor. We talked about art for too long last night. You didn't see clearly when you stepped on it and fell down the stairs, hitting your head. I'm so sorry."

Huh? Is that all?

Taylor was stunned for a moment. He didn't expect that he missed a step and hit his head last night. No wonder his head hurts so much now. But is this really something he could do? In the past, he would always look at his feet when going up and down the stairs.

Confused, he looked up at Squidward, and his firm and affirmative eyes immediately "dispelled" his doubts.

Yes, that’s right, that should be it… right?

Taylor was confused and didn't know what to say, so he briefly changed the topic and kept silent. At this moment, Squidward put the breakfast in his hand on the bedside table, then looked at Taylor and said.

"Mr. Taylor, your perspective on artistic style is truly amazing to me. Your landscape paintings also have a unique and bizarre beauty. Although I have never seen many of these things in my life, I always have a vague feeling that they are real."

"Yes, yes, he should exist, but maybe I'm overthinking it. I think this can also be considered an abstract painting."

Facing Squidward's lavish praise, Taylor smiled sheepishly. He didn't say that this was something he had dreamed about, nor did he tell him about his recent bizarre dreams. He just agreed with Squidward's words.

After feeling that Tyler seemed to be fine, Squidward stood up and prepared to leave Tyler's house. When he walked to the door of Tyler's room, he opened the door and suddenly seemed to remember something and spoke.

"Oh, by the way, Mr. Taylor, I suddenly remembered that you don't have a job right now. I've already talked to Mr. Krabs, and he wants you to work as a cook in the Krusty Krab's kitchen. The salary is not low."

Taylor, who was about to reach out for the seaweed bread, paused subconsciously, then looked up at Squidward.

The salary is not low......

Don't be kidding.

If I hadn't seen Mr. Krabs holding two stacks of coupons to buy vegetables and goods that were unsold in the afternoon when I went to the department store to buy paint and paper last night, I might have really believed it.

Who in Bikini Bottom doesn't know the owner of the Krusty Krab? Mr. Krabs is so stingy that he once thought of using garbage and cardboard to make a living in a restaurant. If you give him some money, he might even sell his own friends.

"Then...thank you."

Just think of it as having more contact with special, emotionally rich "friends" like Squidward, Mr. Krabs, and SpongeBob.

If I don't know how to think, will I live a monotonous life, eating crab patties and going to work? Maybe I won't even know who I am when I walk aimlessly on the street at night? After looking at Taylor who was thinking, Squidward's mouth was slightly bitter. He closed the door gently and said in a deep voice.

"You're welcome…………"

————————————

Krusty Krab

Kitchen "Hurry up, hurry up, boys, move your hands and legs, every minute counts, money is the most precious thing in this world, money is the most reliable thing in this world, don't delay the boss from making money!"

At seven o'clock in the morning, Mr. Krabs's powerful voice echoed in the kitchen. Mr. Krabs stood at the door of the back kitchen, watching SpongeBob holding a mop in one hand and wiping the floor desperately, and watching Taylor with a tired face scrubbing the frying pan and oil pan with a small brush.

SpongeBob held the mop and wiped along the floor to the wall, then from the wall to the ceiling. He wiped the entire kitchen sparkling in a 360-degree, gravity-defying manner. The dazzling white light even flashed Mr. Krabs' eyes.

This is what a good employee should do.

Mr. Krabs nodded in satisfaction, then looked at Tyler, both crab eyes narrowed, eyebrows twitching involuntarily, which made him feel the performance when losing money.

SpongeBob had almost finished cleaning the ceiling, so why didn't this new guy even clean the frying pan? The grease stains were only there for a few years, so were they so difficult to deal with?

Humph, you lazy bastard, you only have one dollar left in your salary this month! While Mr. Krabs was examining Tyler, SpongeBob had already transformed his body into a large cleaning sponge and began to move around in the cracks of the walls, floors, tables, chairs, refrigerators, freezers, lockers, etc. in an unreasonable way, wiping his entire body black.

When he fell from the ceiling and landed on Boss Xie, the dust was instantly shaken off and disappeared without a trace.

"This is so fun, and it looks so clean. Mr. Krabs, how about we come early every morning to clean the kitchen?"

SpongeBob, full of energy, clasped his hands together in a begging manner, stared at Mr. Krabs with wide eyes and red cheeks.

this…………

Mr. Krabs looked hesitant. He felt that this was a waste of his time, and time is money, so it was a waste of his money.

Of course, if the money he wasted could be made up...

He pretended to be hesitant, and rubbed his other two crab claws together with his fists, as if asking for money.

"I understand, Mr. Krabs. I'll give you 600 dollars a month from now on. Please let me come here an hour earlier to clean!"

“Ah, kakakaka… That makes sense! Good boy, I really didn’t see through you!”

Looking at the scene in the distance where the boss and employees lived in harmony and created a better future together, Taylor couldn't help rubbing his eyes.

Is there something wrong with his eyes? Why do employees have to clean up in advance and pay the boss?

Do you know what processing fee is?

(End of this chapter)