[ WP ] You become a successful chef at a restaurant that 's actually a front for laundering money , but are blissfully unaware of what 's really going on .

SpongeBob set his spatula down near the grill, pushing down the knot of fear and disappointment that always came at the end of a shift. 
 
 He scuttled out of the kitchen, around the register and paused in front of the door to Mr.Krabbs' office. Hesitantly, he pushed upon the panel, worrying about the tirade of spicy words that could come down on his ears like an avalanche. Mr. Krabbs hated to be disturbed, especially about money. The door creaked open a bare inch in response to Spongebob's wimpy effort. 
 
 Applying an eyeball to the crack, SpongeBob could barely see the shadowy figure of Ol' Man Krabbs behind an enormous stack of coins and dirty bills. He was talking to someone on the phone in a rather agitated tone. `` Listen up, I ca n't just put all this dirty money in me own account! The amount of filth in this pile alone is almost more than I can deal with.'' 
 
 The wafting fragrance of old grease caused Mr. Krabbs to look up from his counting. The door was open a crack, in that crack was half a sponge and an eyeball grotesquely extended in a peering squint that was trying to focus on him rather than the piles of money overflowing the well worn surface of Mr. Krabbs' desk. 
 
 `` Excuse me,'' SpongeBob could barely get the words out in a whisper. `` Mr. Krabbs, could I get paid today? It's my day to do laundry but my washer is broke so I thought I would just take Gary down to the laundrymat...'' SpongeBob trailed off under the withering glare of Mr. Krabbs' scowl. 
 
 `` You say you want me to give you some money?'' There was a clinking of coins as Mr. Krabbs shifted a pile of cash to more directly fix SpongeBob in the full intensity of his glare. `` I suppose I might have to.'' He sank back into his chair, into the shrouding shadows of menace that hung like draperies of gloom over the dimly lit office. 
 
 SpongeBob waited for Mr. Krabbs to say something more. A long moment passed in silence. Finally, a small envelope came spinning out of the darkness like a ninja star. It's corner lodged in the flimsy fabric of SpongeBob's sweat stained hat, his mark of inclusion into the Krusty Krewe. `` Gee, thanks Mr. Krabbs!'' Happy at last, SpongeBob began to back out from his awkward position lodged in the crack of the door. 
 
 `` Wait a minute there my boy,'' the gravel laden voice of Krabbs rumbled in the office. `` What was that you said about going to the laundry?''
