Scene: Crap Into Cash Trade Show: Interior

Tables, booths and hagglers are everywhere. Homestar, Strong Bad, Pom Pom and Coach Z enter.

POM POM: (bubbles)

COACH Z: Well, Bubsy distinctly mentioned this place. Chances are they have some of his knickknacks kickin’ around, and if they do, we’ll be able to find out where he’s got himself holed up.

STRONG BAD: Oh, man. I can’t believe these guys. They have nothing to do but show each other their crap all day long. How sad can you get?

HOMESTAR: Wow! An electwic floss machine! Cool!

STRONG BAD: Never mind.

POM POM: (bubbles)

COACH Z: Well, the administrator’s desk is over there. I figure he’d be the guy to ask.

They approach the administrator’s desk.

ADMINISTRATOR: How may I help you gentlemen?

COACH Z: Have you seen a guy around about yea high, with kind of a bluish face, you know, not eggshell blue so much as sea-foam blue, and teeth that kinda look like they were carved into his head…

ADMINISTRATOR: We have thousands of clients, sir. If you were interested in buying, we would be able to give you personal information. Otherwise, all other information is restricted.

COACH Z: Okay. You got, like, a radio with an egg timer tied to it so you can tell that the News in 3 Minutes is actually four minutes long?

ADMINISTRATOR: No, sir. We do not.

STRONG BAD: How about a camera that has black paint on the lens so you can take pictures of the sun safely?

ADMINISTRATOR: No.

POM POM: (bubbles)

ADMINISTRATOR: No.

COACH Z: Okay. I guess we’re in the wrong place. Sorry to have bothered you.

STRONG BAD (sotto voice): Jerk-bo.

They turn away.

ADMINISTRATOR: …But we do have a folding chair with ice picks in the armrests, so you can hunt walruses without leaving your chair.

They rush back.

COACH Z: That’s Bubsy, all right!

STRONG BAD: Yeah. I’d be scared if there were two brains like that in the world. Heck, I’m scared as it is.

ADMINISTRATOR: Very well. Just make your purchase, and I’ll give you the information.

COACH Z: Uh, you guys got any cash on you? I left my wallet in my other pants.

POM POM: (bubbles)

COACH Z: Oh, right. I guess I don’t have a wallet, either.

ADMINISTRATOR: Is that Scope I smell on your breath, sir?

COACH Z: What, are you yankin’ me? I haven’t drank a drop of Scope since they said that fat lady on the TV wasn’t kissable! It’s an act of civil protest, my man! Which, incidentally, was one of the titles of my first album, which was never released… a real collector’s prize, ya know…

STRONG BAD: All right, I’ll pay for it. Freakin’ mooches better appreciate this. I’m paying in cash. If the credit card company finds out about this they’ll never let me forget.

HOMESTAR’s VOICE: Uh, guys?

Everybody turns and sees Homestar has got himself wrapped up in floss.

HOMESTAR: It’s the funniest thing. I was fooling awound with this thing, and then I wemembered I don’t have any teeth…

POM POM: (bubbles)

COACH Z: Yep. Better add that Flosseratin’ jobbie to the bill.

STRONG BAD: Fine! Why don’t we just buy a freakin’ ladies’ underwear ventilator and call it a day!

ADMINISTRATOR: I think we have one in the back…

STRONG BAD: I was being sarcastic!

ADMINISTRATOR: I understand, sir. Now, here is the personal information on Mr. Bubs…

Scene: By-The-Pretty-Water-Ville: Seaside Plaza

STRONG BAD: Well, I guess this is a pretty nice place, but there’s no sign of Bubs. All the address said was "mobile", whatever the crap that means.

HOMESTAR: Perhaps we should quewy a wandom sampling of the locals.

COACH Z: Great idea, Homestar. Hey, you! Hey, kid!

KID (warily): Yeah?

COACH Z: Do your parents have a glass cabinet in their house full of funny-shaped bottles? Or a medicine cabinet?

STRONG BAD (elbowing Coach Z aside): Cut that out, man. You’re scaring him. Hey, kid, have you seen this guy?

He holds up a picture of Bubs.

KID: Oh, sure I know him. Everybody around here knows Mr. Bubs. He runs the floating restaurant.

STRONG BAD: Floating restaurant?

KID: Sure. In fact, it’ll be docking on that pier in a few minutes.

POM POM: (bubbles)

KID: Hey, no problem. But just a warning. If you are here to solicit Mr. Bubs for money, the waitress will kill you.

STRONG BAD: Cute kid. I like him. Come on, guys. We’ve got a restaurant to catch. And then we’ll get you back in your padded cell, Uncle Crazy Creepy Guy Dude Man.

COACH Z: That’s not my name! Or is it? This sea air’s got me all confused.

HOMESTAR: Hey, kid?

KID: Yeah?

HOMESTAR: Did you ever used to go to a website with a weal fun guy on it that happened to look a lot like me?

STRONG BAD: Get over it, Homestar.

KID: You guys are weird. I’m out of here.

He leaves. Shortly thereafter, the floating restaurant docks. The sign reads "Bubs’ Meals on Keels: Home of the 10-hour Breakfast". A few customers disembark, walking down the gangplank and into town. Homestar, Pom Pom, Strong Bad and Coach Z board the ship and enter. They find a lively restaurant full of customers. Bo, a waitress, watches them come in.

BO: Hi, welcome to Meals on Keels. I’m Bo, and I’ll be servin’ you today. The special today is eggs cooked on the inside floating in a cup of bacon grease.

STRONG BAD: As horrendously appetizing as that sounds, we’re here to talk to Bubs.

BO (tapping a knife against a glass): May I have your attention, everybody?

All heads turn towards the group.

BO: These guys want to talk to Bubs.

CUSTOMERS (as one): Nobody talks to Bubs until breakfast is over!

BO: Sorry, but that’s something we do.

HOMESTAR: When does bweakfast end, anyway?

BO: In about 6 hours. Feel free to wait if you want.

COACH Z: Six hours on this tub? My stomach couldn’t handle that. I get the lurchies.

BO (stunned): Oh my gosh.

COACH Z: You got a problem, missy? Me, I got more’n two of them things…

BO (ecstatic): Oh, my gosh! Everybody!

The customers once again turn towards them.

BO: You will not believe who is on our boat! (to Coach Z) Say something.

COACH Z: You want I should say somethin’?

CUSTOMERS (as one): Coach Z!

HOMESTAR: Whoa, that’s fweaky.

COACH Z: You peoples know me?

BO: Of course we know you! Every customer on this boat knows you!

She turns on the jukebox.

COACH Z’s VOICE: Straight gangsta mack, I’ll make you sick twenty times and back…

COACH Z: That’s my first album! The unreleased one that’ll sell millions when I’m dead! I lent it to Bubsy and he forgot to give it back!

BO: It’s the number-one selection on our jukebox! Not a day goes by without your inspired rap aiding our digestion!

COACH Z: No kiddin’? I never knew!

BO: Oh, Bubs is gonna be so glad to see you! Wait one minute!

She runs into the kitchen.

BO: Bubs!

Bubs is leaning over a stove.

BUBS: Breakfast is still shakin’, Bo.

BO: I know, but Bubs, somebody wants to see you.

BUBS: I’m sure they can wait until breakfast is over. I’m chillin’ with the grill an’ there’s no time killin’!

BO (mischievously): That’s too bad. Coach Z’s stomach won’t last long.

BUBS: Bo, I’ve known Coach Z ten times as long as you have, and I…

He turns.

BUBS: He’s here?!

BO: Just boarded.

BUBS: No ribbin’?

BO: No ribbin’.

BUBS: Smokin’ Catskills! I’ve gotta… oh, right. The breakfast.

BO: I can do breakfast. You go see your friends.

BUBS: No way, Bo. This breakfast is my personal creation.

BO: And I’ve watched you create every day for the last three years. Now go out there, and talk to your friends. I can handle it.

BUBS: Well… thanks, Bo.

He rushes into the dining room.

BUBS: Coach Z! You old crony!

COACH Z: Bubs! You old brick house!

They embrace. Coach Z tightens up and falls to the floor, holding his stomach. Bubs is still holding a fist.

BUBS: You’re my pal, Coach, but no cracks about the waistline!

COACH Z (trying to get his wind back): I meant you were solid, man. Rock solid.

POM POM: (bubbles)

BUBS: Well, if it ain’t the Homestar, the Strongest Bad, and Pom Pom Pom!

He hugs them.

HOMESTAR (sickly): Oh… all that dental floss I ate isn’t agweeing with me…

We suddenly cut to Bubs’ office, the Captain’s Quarters. Coach Z is recovering on the coach, Homestar’s head is out the window, and Bubs is towelling himself off. Strong Bad and Pom Pom have explained the plan.

STRONG BAD: So, Bubs, are you in or not?

BUBS: I can balance the books any way you please, make no mistake, but what am I gonna do about this? I can’t just close the restaurant! This is the place to be, on the sea!

BO (entering): I can handle it, Bubs.

BUBS: Bo, you adorable little eavesdropper, you, you can’t run the restaurant by yourself!

BO: I handled everything by myself when you had anthrax for two weeks.

BUBS: Yeah, but…

BO: And everything was fine.

BUBS: Well, if I hadn’t bought discount beef from that twitching guy on the rowboat, that wouldn’t have happened!

BO: Regardless, I proved that I can handle it.

BUBS: Well…

BO: Come on, Bubs. You’ve been talking about how you wanted to get together with your old friends, and here’s your chance.

BUBS: Promise you’ll disinfect the fat fryer every day?

BO: I promise.

BUBS: Oh, all right. But I expect this thing to still be floating when I get back!

BO: No worries, Bubs. Now you go and have a good time.

She exits, blowing him a kiss.

BUBS (blushing): She’s… uh, well, uh… anyway, let’s get crackin’! We’re almost ready to dock. Ready, Coach Z?

COACH Z: Sure, Bubsy. I’ve taken worse blows to the solar plex.

BUBS: How about you, Homestar?

HOMESTAR: Ooh. When did I eat fwench fwies today?

Scene: Seaside Plaza, sunset. The five friends are on the dock, watching the restaurant float away.

BUBS: See you later, Bo! Don’t forget to break out the mace when the health inspector comes by!

POM POM: (bubbles)

HOMESTAR: I’m fine now, Pom Pom. I think my stomach is still out there, however.

STRONG BAD: Okay, we’ve got our five. Now what?

BUBS: Well, Pom Pom was sayin’ that we need extra brain and a lot of extra muscle for this escapade.

POM POM: (bubbles)

STRONG BAD: No way, man. I know what you’re thinking, and I won’t go through with it!

COACH Z: Sorry, Strong Bad. But we need yer brother Strong Mad and The Cheort to help us out.

STRONG BAD: I said no way! I read all about them in the papers! They have betrayed the family trust! They’re dead to me, you hear? They’re dead!

POM POM: (bubbles)

STRONG BAD: Oh, is that it? I won’t get my share?

POM POM: (bubbles)

STRONG BAD: Okay, man. I’ll talk to them. But they won’t help us. You’ll see. Freakin’ ingrates. They won’t help us at all.

They walk off, Strong Bad still shaking his head and muttering to himself.