{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.

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.}