Cook the patties, Mop the deck, Squidward's waiting for his check, I have a friend his name's Patrick, He was mistaken for a chick, I clean the stalls, Wash the walls, Spy on whales at the mall, Day's not over, we have a thief, He's full of fails, hot gas, and grief, That's OK cuz when we win we'll have to give a Victory Screech, It's time to take out the trash, Got to be on high alert, A spatula guy will cut you up and surely that will really hurt He's the- Hash-slinging, trash-ringing, dash-bash-bringing, clash-singing, mash-slash-flinging, fast-dinging, tash-past-raising, sass-praising slasher, And he's right in the fog, Awaiting SpongeBob, Breathing like dogs, Wanting his job, After work, it's hit the dome, What Sandy Cheeks calls her home, To practice chopping cardboard with these big ole gloves full of foam, After, Jellyfish Fields, Where you gotta take take pills, And ya gotta stay chill, To get rid of the pain of stings, from idiots that evidently don't have brains, And uh, I love you Kevin, You're a- pickle from Heaven, Known you- since I was eleventy-seven, now I'm talking and spellin', Time to- go home to Gary, These rhymes are making me wary, See ya'll at the Krusty Krab.