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{Start of the e-mail, we're staring at the monitor. Strong Bad ain't there. Then we hear footsteps getting faster as they approach, and Strong Bad runs on-screen. He notices the computer and screeches to a halt.} STRONG BAD: Oh! The e-mail! {he sits at the computer} Uh, look guys. I don't have a lotta time. I'm kind of in the middle of something and I really can't explain. I'll try and do an e-mail real quick-a-like. {reading} Hey man, I was just wondering what your current status with the ladies is? Jordan Reynolds New Hampshire Uhh, let's see... {typing} Strong Bad with the ladies - Current Status: They all still want me. {stops typing} Y'know, what can I say? I'm a chick magnet. A babe conductor. A...logarithm...for de ladies. {we hear voices offscreen} COACH Z: Hey Strong Bad! BUBS: Hey Strong Bad! STRONG BAD: Oop, gotta go! {He runs off. Coach Z and Bubs walk on... except their heads have been swapped, and they are now Coach B and Zubs.} COACH B: Well... he's not here. ZUBS: Well, you betta find him quick! This crap ain't funny! COACH B: I'd be hard-pressed to do anything quick in this train-wreck! What've ya, been eatin' concrete? {Coach B walks off.} ZUBS: Least I don't have no clown feet! I can hardly walk in these things! Ronald McDonald... rumble-mumble.... {Zubs walks off, the paper comes down.} |