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THE ANNOUNCER: Previously on Strong Bad Email! {An email asking about how Strong Bad types with boxing gloves on pops up. It reads:} dear strong bad, how do you type with boxing gloves on your hands? aaron pratt marion, in THE ANNOUNCER: A familiar message! {A second email comes up. It reads:} Yo Strong Bad. What's crackin? I was wondering how you type with your boxing gloves on? Heather THE ANNOUNCER: Two of the same! {Another email comes up. It reads:} HOW DO YOU TYPE WITH THOSE BOXING GLOVES ON? THAT IS AMAZING! FRANKDOG THE ANNOUNCER: And another one! {Yet another email comes up. It reads:} Dear Strong Bad, How can you type so fast when your wearing boxing gloves? Typing Faster Than You... Brandon Hicks, Enumclaw WA THE ANNOUNCER: Frustration of frustrations! It's all they ever ask! {the next two announcements are accompanied by text banners coming up on the screen} WILL THEY NEVER CEASE?!?! STAY TUNED TO FIND OUT! STRONG BAD: {singing} Welcome to the Strong Bad Email dat-daddle-dun! Everybody get down! {reading} Dear Strong Bad, Why don't you add some fingers onto your boxing gloves so that people stop asking how you can type with boxing gloves on? They wouldn't have to be permanent. They'd be like the phony antennae you buy at the joke store or costume place. {stops reading} Palace, Lee. I think you mean costume palace. {continues} Yours, Lee Conrad Edmonton, Alberta {typing} Fake fingers, eh, Lee? Well, I do hate those emails. Hmmmmmm... {We do a fade-out like we're going into his imagination. We see him at Bubs' Concession Stand.} Hey Bubs! Gimme a little something-something. BUBS: How many you need? STRONG BAD: I'll take three. {He holds up a hand which has a candle, a leg from his Strong Bad Action Figure, and a shrimp for fake fingers. Transition to the couch room where he's rocking out to music with Strong Mad and they're doing the rock fists, with the index and pinky fingers extended. Strong Bad has all sorts of crazy stuff for fingers. Then we go to him in the locker room with Coach Z.} COACH Z: Looks like you got some type of a prawn on there... STRONG BAD: Yeah... COACH Z: Maybe a little leg... STRONG BAD: Yup. COACH Z: Ooh! And a candle! That's a good one. STRONG BAD: Yeah, I think that's my best one. You know. Keeps-a me warm at night! {cut to Homestar standing on a soapbox with fake arms attached} HOMESTAR RUNNER: And frankly, I'm worried. STRONG BAD: Hey, shut up, Homestar! HOMESTAR RUNNER: Oh hey, Strong Bad! STRONG BAD: You look ridiculous! {cut back to Compy, where Strong Bad is typing and making a whole bunch of errors} Well, Lee, it's a good idea in theory but uh, in reality, I don't think it would work out very well. But it would be pretty cool to be able to do the evil fingers. {What's actually typed: qwelo jwee, ufs gopod isda treery vuit yuiyyj, un tweanouty U du'p yhij utz quijf reardy owd vera nis. bu6 rt woild b pletyt gool yo be swabl tp do teh ebil flindas. Stops typing.} Anyways. I don't wanna be around when this shrimp goes bad. Whooh! {The paper comes down. Strong Bad starts playing with the shrimp.} I'm a shrimp! Doingita-doingita-doing! Don't eat me, somebody, oh no, I'm a shrimp... |