The Crab King was sick: sick and tired of being underwater; tired of eating stupid fish, filthy plankton and disgusting seaweed. He was fed up with scratching his shell on all of the annoying coral laying around, just waiting to be tripped over; plus saltwater stung like a bugger on his coral scratches. Not to mention the turtles . . . bunch of jerks.
What he needed was a change. Maybe a vacation? Nah, all of the other places were too hot or too cold. A new girlfriend maybe? Well, Francine was a nice crab, a real looker, but a bad cook, but ooh, she had nice legs! A new job possibly? Hmm. Crab King was tired of being King; bossing everyone around was exhausting and no one appreciated it anyways!
Crab King had always wanted to be an artist. He was creative, good with colour and looked smashing in a beret. Francisco the octopus did mention something called 'Inktober.' That sounded interesting. Now where would he find ink around this underwater dump?