But it wasn't all sunshine and kelp shakes. There was the time he and Patrick became "men" by growing seaweed sideburns to brave the trenches of Rock Bottom, waiting for a bus that seemed to actively despise them. Or the night he thought the "Hash-Slinging Slasher" was coming for him, only to find a nervous kid looking for a job.

By the time the moon rose over the Pacific, SpongeBob sat on his roof with Patrick, eating canned bread. The world was still new. Sandy Cheeks was still the mysterious karate-chopping squirrel from Texas, and Platoon’s plans for the Secret Formula were still hilariously doomed.

SpongeBob marched toward the Krusty Krab, his shoes squeaking with the rhythmic confidence of a guy who didn't yet know that his neighbor, Squidward, viewed him as a walking migraine. Today was different. Today, a busload of hungry anchovies was about to descend, and the fate of Mr. Krabs’ first dollar rested on a "hydrodynamic spatula with port and starboard attachments."