Dear the Poopsmith,
Why are you The Poopsmith? Can't you find a better job?
Marietta, GA

THE POOPSMITH{typing} Meh, The KOT hired me because it was policy. Believe it or not, the laws around here can actually be passed by the KOT. Anyway, I don't like my job but I don't hate it. It's better then telemarketing. Besides, I can quit anytime I want to. The KOT messed up on a law that let him quit whenever being the king actually made him work.
{'The Paper comes down}

Dear The Poopsmith,
You smell like crap! Well, anyway, I was wondering if you could bring some of the you-know-what and put it in Strong Sad's bed while he is sleeping. {devilish laugh} I'll give you some pencil shavings.
Someone who is definitely not Strong Bad and I mean it!

THE POOPSMITH{typing}: Well, if you worked at McReynolds, and your job was scooping french fries, wouldn't you smell like french fries? Strong Bad, you think I'm an idiot, don't you? Look at your address!
THE POOPSMITH{typing}: Well, keep sending me emails, and I'll answer them.
{The Paper comes down}

Dear The Poopsmith,
How come you took a vow of silence? And, why do you scoop up crap for the King of Town?-Shopiom

THE POOPSMITH{typing}: You know, it's been so long, I'm not sure why I took a vow, wierd name. Scooping
up crap's my job, okay? Why do people ask that so much?
{The King of Town enters the room.}
THE KING OF TOWN: Hello, The Poopsmith, how was your day?
{Nothing happens.}
THE KING OF TOWN: Doo, hoo, well I least I tried to answer my email. No way to get The Poopsmith to talk. Hoo.
{The Paper comes down}

Dear PPsmith

give SB some cake. he never did anything to you and he gave you that cake thing.

--Stark Dlig

THE POOPSMITH{typing}: h, nt mrk. If you haven't noticed, I have limited supplies for a cake. Strong Bad will NOT enjoy my only supply.
{The Poopsmith stares at The King of Town.}
THE KING OF TOWN: Oh. People are watching this? Doo! Hoo! I was kidding!
THE POOPSMITH:{typing}: Whatever. Odd. Okay, The Paper, you know what to do.
{The Paper comes down}

Dear Mr. Smith,

How long have you known your shovel, since it's a character and all?

with whatsit,

THE POOPSMITH{typing}: Well Its a funny story. A long, long, long time ago, I used to throw my watsit with my hands then, on my birthday, I got a shovel.I think that the KOT thought it was a spoon or something.
{The King of Town walks into the room.}
THE KING OF TOWN: What do you mean it's not a spoon?
{The Paper comes down}

How did you manage to get a computer?

THE POOPSMITH{typing}: You won't believe what people put in my pile other than crap.
{'The Paper comes down}

How come your not aloud to talk? Were you some monk before you came here? Are you andthe blacksmith homeboys?

Just wonderin,

THE POOPSMITH{typing}: I am, but I must follow my vow of silence, otherwise it wouldn't make any sense, SchoolingDJ. I don't get your second question. Why would a be a monk? In other words, I'm not a monk. The Blacksmith and me were okay friends, but then he had a liking for Strong Bad and didn't want to be friends anymore.
{The Paper comes down}