The Sponge narrowed its porous eyes. “Fine. You three—the whale, the orphan, and the bearded hobo—are coming with me. If you’re lying, I’ll exfoliate you to dust.”

“OI!” bellowed the Sponge. “Which one of you landlubbers stole my soap recipe? I’m the Sudsy Sentinel, guardian of the Coral Cleanliness Code, and I want my proprietary lather back!”

Bubbie burbled in agreement.

The seal’s eyes widened in horror. “Jellyfish? In my royal bath? Unacceptable!”

That night, as K’nuckles passed out in a pile of fish bones, Flapjack put the bubble on his bedside crate. It glowed softly, smelling of maple and adventure.

K’nuckles immediately pointed at Flapjack. “He did it. He’s a known soaper.”

Before K’nuckles could argue, a massive wave crashed over the dock, and with it came a colossal, grumpy Sea-Sponge the size of a rowboat. It was foaming at the pores—literally. White, fragrant suds oozed from every hole.

“Bubbie,” he whispered to the whale sleeping outside. “That was a good misadventure.”

But Flapjack had an idea. He grabbed a bar of the stolen soap, carved it into a fake treasure map, and ran up to the volcano’s edge.

Back in Stormalong Harbor, the Sea-Sponge tipped his foamy hat. “You’re not so bad, weird kid. Here.” He handed Flapjack a single, shimmering bubble. “It never pops. It smells like candy. Use it wisely.”

“I am not!” Flapjack said, hugging Bubbie the whale. “But I bet the thief is on the Sudsy Islands!”

The seal giggled. “You caught me! I stole the soap recipe to make my bathwater sparkle. And now, with my glittering, squeaky-clean army…” He snapped a flipper. A hundred scrub-brush soldiers marched out, singing a menacing jingle about hygiene.