Come on, stovie, pop that corn!
(popcorn popping)
Get ready, Gary!
(SpongeBob panting)
Incoming!
(mews)
(popcorn ricocheting)
Popcorn is served!
(crunching)
(music plays over TV)
That, bro, is trouble at any car wash.
SHOW ANNOUNCER: We will return to Bikini Bottom Car Wash after these messages.
(gulps)
COMMERCIAL ANNOUNCER: Are you boring?
Yes. Yes, I am.
When friends describe you, do they use words like...
Ha-ha-ha!
Don't forget "platitudinous."
Yes, that, too, Charlie.
But what if I told you that you could change all that
with the magic of...
magic!
(laughing)
l look like some kind of magician.
Now people won't ignore me.
Let's hope not, Charlie.
With my Mister Magic Magical Magic Kit,
even you can impress and amaze your friends.
I want to impress and amaze my friends!
Just send $19.95 to me, Mister Magic!
(panting)
(grunting)
One magic kit,
and another one of these yellow things.
Here it is!
Mister Magic's Magical Magic Kit!
(gasps): Look at all this!
A book of spells, my very own wand of whimsy.
The beard of Rasputin.
And, of course, the all-important
license to practice magic.
(slurping)
(jazz playing quietly)
(slurps then sighs)
Squidward!
He'll appreciate my newly delivered skill.
Brine soda, low-fat seaweed crisps,
cool jazz.
Mm, mm, mm, Squidward, you have done it.
You have officially spoiled yourself rotten.
Well, let the rotting continue, friend,
while I impress and amaze you with...
magic!
Magic?
Can you make yourself disappear, SpongeBob?
(laughs): Silly Squidward!
l won't learn vanishing spells
until I become a level ten wizard.
No, I'd better start with something simpler.
Say, card conjuring?
Here, hold this simple playing card
while I transform it into a magic playing card
before your very eyes.
Let's see.
(wheezing) Step one.
This can't possibly end soon.
Which brings us to... step three.
Juggle something.
Well, if you insist, Mr. Magic.
I don't care where you're going,
just take me away from here.
Then, take one card and shove it in your ear.
(crying)
But I don't like pistachio!
Then why did you ask for it?
(crying) (sighs)
And finally, just say the words "Hobris-pobris."
(gasps): Squidward!
My simple card trick has turned you into an ice-cream cone.
Which means...
I am a level ten wizard!
I suppose I should change you back to squid form.
Presto!
Uh, let's see.
Ah, uh-huh.
Alakazam!
(gasps)
Abracadabra.
Hoogily-doogily.
Hobra-cobra. Oh!
Open sesame?
Uh, change-o back-o to Squidward-o, please-o?
Oh, I am so sorry, Squidward. (sniffs)
l've transformed you into a delicious dairy dessert,
and I can't change you back!
There, there, Squidward.
There is no need to cry.
I promise you will continue your normal life,
despite the fact that you are now edible.
(sizzling)
Whoa-ho-ho!
Oh!
(screams)
Squidward!
Speak to me.
Speak!
(breathing heavily)
(shouting gibberish)
(breathing heavily)
Hey, Squid, are you okay?
Hey, Squid, are you still okay?
(yells, laughs)
Hey, Squidward, I got something for you.
Someone to keep you company
in that drab old freezer.
Oh, aren't they cute?
l promise to stand by as an eternal guard over my buddy.
Hi, SpongeBob, what you doing?
I have turned poor Squidward into a frozen dessert!
That's awful.
How tragic.
Poor Squidward.
It's all... my... fault.
Did you say frozen dessert?
Yeah.
l turned him into a tasty soft-serve with a waffle cone.
Oh... soft serve.
Patrick!
Stop eating Squidward!
Oh, sorry.
Patrick!
Pat... But he's so tasty!
(slurping)
(screaming)
Look, Patrick, don't you understand?
This isn't just your ordinary ice-cream cone.
It's pistachio.
No!
It's Squidward.
And no matter what happens, I promised him
that I would watch over him
to ensure his soft, frozen life is unchanged.
(slurping)
(screaming)
Patrick!
Squidward has melted.
Quick, call the police.
What am I going to do?
Oh, Neptune, it's all my fault.
What have I done?!
What have I done? Aah!
It's all your fault.
Curse you, Mister Magic Magical Magic Kit!
Curse you!
Hey, that's it.
There's the answer to our problems.
Warning: from ages 9 to 99.
No, Patrick, the one mystic being that can help us...
Mr. Magic.
Just follow the brown-tiled road
to the most mysterious mystic of them all.
No one's ever seen him in person.
VOICE: Enter!
Who dares to see Mister Magic?
(both screaming)
Speak up!
It is I, SpongeBob of the SquarePants,
Magician Level One,
and I have changed my friend into ice cream.
Good job.
Well, thank you, but, well, I can't change him back.
Hmm, um, well, have you ever thought of a different hobby?
I need your help to change him back.
My help?
Uh, no, thank you.
But if you don't, my friend will be a cone forever.
Sorry, I... um... I'm out to lunch, that's it.
I'll wait. l'm on a two-year lunch.
No, please.
Silence!
But, sir,
no one else has your power of sorcery.
Thank... you.
Hey, SpongeBob,
there's a guy over here talking into a tubey thing.
Uh, ignore your friend.
The fish you see is only an illusion. Huh?
Why's he saying the same thing Mister Magic's saying?
I don't know, Patrick.
Who are you, good sir?
Well, I, uh, I'm Horace B. Magic.
Are you Mister Magic?
(chuckles): Technically, yes,
but the only magic around here is the magic of business.
Does that mean you can't change my friend back?
Oh.
(chuckles): I'm, I'm afraid not.
So sorry about that, laddie.
Your refund check is in the mail.
I don't need a refund!
I want my friend back!
This isn't about money.
You're nothing but a fake.
Just a lying, corporate businessman,
tainting the purity of magic
with your corrupt, commercial ways.
You have ruined my faith in the magical arts.
(sobbing)
Security.
(sobbing)
What are we going to do about Squidward?
We could always eat him. l'm kind of hungry.
(stomach growling)
Mister Magic was a fake.
And all this magic stuff is fake.
All those magic words, they were fake.
Yacky, schmacky, bappy, dappy,
doppy, goffy, boffy...
(SpongeBob speaking gibberish)
Eww.
What are you doing, SpongeBob?
Squidward!
You're back.
The magic words worked.
I really am magic after all.
Can I turn you into something else now?
(motorcycle approaching)
Hey, stop.
Get me out of here.
(stomach growling)
Hey, SpongeBob?
I'm still hungry.
Will you turn me into a jar of mayonnaise
so I can eat myself?
Sure, buddy.
Patrick-a mayonnaise-icka.