Scene: Homeschool Manor. We see a massive mansion built around the King of Town’s castle, viewed through an iron gate with the letters "H W" on it. Thunder rolls and crashes as a sick, cold rain pours from above. We slowly zoom towards a lighted window.

The den. Homeschool Winner sits in a plush chair in a smoker’s jacket with a pipe. His pet, the sabre-toothed Dijory Doo, is curled in the corner on a velvet pillow, chewing on a bone. Homeschool smiles and looks at the window as the storm rages outside.

HOMESCHOOL (voice sounds a lot like Kelsey Grammar): Beautiful rain. Made ever more beautiful with the knowledge that Homestar Runner is sitting out there, shivering and alone. If he hasn’t been killed by his own stupidity, of course. But I think even Homestar is smart enough to know who the better man is by now. I should have been the star, and this proves it. After years of being a loser, I finally won. Homestar, Strong Bad, the so-called King of Town, and all the rest… may you rot, wherever you are, preferably in the cold ground. I now have what I deserve, and you yours. My home, my wealth, my girl. All mine.

He lies back and smokes his pipe. His butler, Senor Cardgage, shuffles in with a newspaper.

SENOR CARDGAGE: Excardon me, Julivia, but I brought for you your chronicle.

HOMESCHOOL: Ah, thank you. You may go now.

SENOR CARDGAGE: Er, exfoliate me, Christinnifer, but I wouldst appreciate my annuities.

HOMESCHOOL: What? Oh, your pay. Certainly.

He hands Senor Cardgage a sack. Cardgage reaches in and pulls out several half-eaten chocolate bars.

SENOR CARDGAGE: Gratitudes you, Mabel. I send my thanks yous.

HOMESCHOOL: You’re very welcome. Oh, and before you retire for the night, could you fetch Dijory Doo a fresh sheep? I think he can eat one more before bedtime.

SENOR CARDGAGE: Excertainly, Brunhilde.

Senor Cardgage leaves.

HOMESCHOOL: Well, he isn’t the best butler in the world, but he’ll work for cheap. A few chocolate bars, and he’s happy.

He leans back in his chair.

HOMESCHOOL: Life is good.

MARZIPAN (entering): Homestar?

Homeschool’s pipe falls to the floor with a clash.

HOMESCHOOL (furious): What did you say?

MARZIPAN (confused): I wanted to ask you…

HOMESCHOOL: What did you call me?

MARZIPAN: I… I don’t know. I was just…

HOMESCHOOL (accusing): You called me by that name!

MARZIPAN: Oh, did I? I didn’t mean to… it’s just that you…

Homeschool steps right up to her.

HOMESCHOOL: Do I remind you of him? Do I?

MARZIPAN (shrinking away): No…

HOMESCHOOL: Am I the overgrown adolescent who was a thorn in your side for years?

MARZIPAN (a little bolder): No.

HOMESCHOOL: Am I the buffoon who never cared about you? Never treated you properly? Never did a single thing for you? Am I Homestar Runner?

MARZIPAN: No, no, Homeschool, you’re not. It’s… it was just a mistake… I…

HOMESCHOOL (softening, drawing her close): No, no, it’s all right. Come here.

She leans against him, reluctantly.

HOMESCHOOL (smoothly): The reason I get so jealous is just because I love you so much. The thought of you with that cretin instead of me… it’s just unbearable.

MARZIPAN: I know. It’s just that sometimes I say the wrong thing. That’s all.

HOMESCHOOL: You’ve let go, haven’t you, Marzipan?

MARZIPAN: Yes, yes. I have. He was just… one of those things when you’re young.

HOMESCHOOL: True. I know he had your heart when you were young, but a lot of good that did you, right? He never showed up at your exotic herb exhibit, when he had given you his word that he would show up. His website, the only thing he ever had going for him, went belly-up, probably due to his own idiocy. And then he ran off like the coward he is, without so much as saying goodbye. However, I do owe him a vote of thanks.

MARZIPAN: Why?

HOMESCHOOL (softly): Because it was his irresponsibility that brought the two of us together, where we belong.

He leans closer.

MARZIPAN (softly): Homeschool, I just wanted to tell you goodnight.

HOMESCHOOL (slightly frustrated): Very well. I’ll walk you to your room.

They softly walk through the extravagant palace.

HOMESCHOOL: You know that all I have is yours, Marzipan. All of this.

He stops at a door and opens it, revealing an indoor nature preserve. Trees, flowers and exotic birds make a colourful sight.

HOMESCHOOL: This is all yours, Marzipan. And you know that nothing would make me happier than if you agreed to be my bride.

MARZIPAN (cautiously): I know, Homeschool. But it’s a big decision. I need some time to think about it.

HOMESCHOOL: The sooner you make the decision, the better. Somebody as pure, as beautiful as you deserves this finery. And I can’t wait forever, you know.

They reach the door to the guest room.

MARZIPAN: I’ll make my decision soon.

She opens the door.

MARZIPAN: I just need a little more time.

HOMESCHOOL (charmingly): Until then, sweet dreams.

Marzipan steps into the room. Homeschool leans in slightly. He suddenly sniffs the air.

HOMESCHOOL: Wait. I smell something.

A look of horror crosses Marzipan’s face.

HOMESCHOOL: Smells like…

Marzipan suddenly leans forward and kisses Homeschool. He smiles and kisses back. They hold for a few seconds.

MARZIPAN (flushed): G-goodnight.

HOMESCHOOL (smiling knowingly): Goodnight.

He leaves and closes the door behind him.

HOMESCHOOL (to himself): Soon, Marzipan. Very soon.

He leaves.

In her room, Marzipan locks her door and sighs in relief. She quietly turns to her bedside table and pulls the drawer open. She pulls out Homestar Jr. Homestar Jr. is more than a little moldy.

MARZIPAN (softly): I’m sorry, Homestar Jr. If he found you, I don’t know what he would have done. I know he told me to throw you out, but I just couldn’t. You’re all I have from… from when I…

She sits down on the bed and pulls her hair out of her ponytail.

MARZIPAN: When I was happy…

Abrupt cut to a badly animated scene. A poorly drawn Homeschool walks onto the scene.

HOMESCHOOL (whiny voice): Ha ha ha I am rich.

A safe with the words "Weighs-a-lot" falls on top of him. A badly drawn Strong Bad waddles up.

STRONG BAD (stilted voice): Ha ha ha you are bleeding from the head!

We pull back to see that this was all on a computer. The Cheat is sitting at the keyboard and Homestar is standing behind him.

HOMESTAR (laughing): Oh man, The Cheat. That weally cwacks me up. Play it again.

STRONG BAD (off-camera): The Cheat! Stop screwin’ around with that thing and get your butt over here!

The Cheat grumbles and steps down and walks over to where the rest are. Everybody is at Pom Pom’s place. Strong Bad and Pom Pom are writing things down and discussing them. The King of Town and the Poopsmith are analyzing a blueprint. Coach Z and Bubs are leafing through a stack of paper.

STRONG BAD (showing The Cheat a piece of paper): What do you think of this one?

THE CHEAT (thoughtfully): Hmmm… weenawumbitera?

STRONG BAD: Well, we were sorta thinking we’d figure that one out when it happened.

THE CHEAT (crumpling the paper): Peh! Yunnawadeedanana!

STRONG BAD: Well excuse me, Master Plan Man. If a certain The Cheat whose name I won’t mention would get off his be-spottacled butt and help us, this would go a lot better!

THE CHEAT (sighing, pointing to another piece of paper): Guddawaheem? Dussawugiddum.

POM POM: (bubbles)

THE CHEAT: Yah! Wuggana neenabudda!

STRONG BAD: Okay. I think we’re in the same ballpark now. Only your ballpark has really crappy astroturf. And doesn’t sell hot dogs.

POM POM: (bubbles)

STRONG BAD: Okay, okay. I’m sorry. Now let’s take a look at this one…

Homestar shrugs.

HOMESTAR: Okay, I guess I’ll find something else to do.

He walks up to the couch. Strong Mad is fast asleep behind the couch and Strong Sad is watching TV.

VOICE FROM TV: Well, ah think that your problem is that you’re fat and you have no self-control. And ah should know! Ah’m a doctor!

The crowd cheers.

HOMESTAR (sitting down): Oh, man. Who listens to this guy anyway?

STRONG SAD: I own eight of his books.

HOMESTAR: …Oh.

Awkward pause.

HOMESTAR: Uh, Stwong Sad?

STRONG SAD: Yeah?

HOMESTAR: Do you think that… well…

STRONG SAD: What?

HOMESTAR: Do you think that Marzipan still likes me?

STRONG SAD: Well… uh… I don’t know, Homestar. I could never really tell what Marzipan felt about you, or… anybody.

HOMESTAR: Yeah, she was hard to wead sometimes. Kinda like the instwuctions for my VCR.

STRONG SAD (sagely): Man can unravel the mysteries of time, space and the universe, but women will forever remain a mystery.

HOMESTAR: Too wight, man. Was that fwom a movie?

STRONG SAD: Uh, probably. It was either from a movie, or a TV show, or a song, or a poem, or a novel, or maybe it was something I saw written on a bathroom wall.

HOMESTAR: Yeah. One of those.

Awkward pause.

HOMESTAR: So, I guess we had one of those guy talks, huh?

STRONG SAD: One of those what?

HOMESTAR: You know, when a guy is having girl twoubles and he talks to another guy about it but they weally don’t say much about it and change the subject?

STRONG SAD: Uh… yeah, I guess we did.

Homestar suddenly hugs Strong Sad.

HOMESTAR (choked up): Thanks for being there for me, man.

STRONG SAD: Uh, anytime, I guess. But I’d appreciate it if you didn’t hug me again.

HOMESTAR: Gotcha, man.

Another pause.

HOMESTAR: …But…

STRONG SAD: What’s wrong, Homestar?

HOMESTAR: It’s just that something’s been bugging me. Marzipan was at that exotic herb thing, wight?

STRONG SAD: Yeah, I was there too. She won first prize. I wanted to congratulate her, but the rosemary aggravated an old allergy of mine, and all I could do was dry heave. Several ladies said it was the most disgusting thing they’d ever seen.

HOMESTAR: I’ve seen worse. But the thing is, I missed it. And I don’t know how I did. I was sure that I was at the wight time, and I knew I was at the wight place. But I stood out there for two days and nothing happened. So I went home, met Marzipan there, we had a big fight, and then, well, here I am. Well, there’s more than that, like bweakfast this morning, but that’s the main part.

STRONG SAD: That’s weird. But Marzipan was sure upset that you weren’t there. I wanted to comfort her, but then we’re back at the dry heave thing again.

HOMESTAR: I don’t know how I missed it. Homeschool even made sure that I knew where it was, because they had changed it.

STRONG SAD: What?

HOMESTAR: Yeah, he said it was at the east side of the fowest instead of the west side.

STRONG SAD: Homeschool told you that?

HOMESTAR: Yep. I thought it was weird, because the west side is much nicer.

STRONG SAD: Well, that’s not right. Why would he tell you it was on the east…

There is a sudden knock at the door. Everybody freezes.

STRONG BAD: It’s Homeschool Intelligence! They’ve ferreted us out!

Everybody starts running around in a blind panic, hiding all of their plans and diagrams. The Poopsmith swallows the blueprints.

STRONG BAD: Hide! I’ll try to mislead them with my unerring sense of misdirection.

Everybody begins diving under furniture, behind drapes and under the rug.

POM POM: (bubbles)

STRONG BAD: No, man. I’ll handle this. Just get your posterior outta here!

Pom Pom ducks behind the sofa. Strong Bad makes a quick sweep of the room. Everything looks in order, save the King of Town-shaped lump under the rug.

KING OF TOWN (poking his head out from under the rug): Could I have a drink? These dust bunnies are horribly dry!

STRONG BAD (kicking the head back under the rug): You’ll be drinking a clip of automatic ordnance if you don’t stay under there! He’s probably sent a full strike force of Green Seals to ventilate us so we can tell no tales!

HOMESTAR’S VOICE: Or maybe it’s the pizza guy.

STRONG BAD: Yeah, right. And he’s serving the kind of pizza that comes in the barrel of a point-four-four Remingbert automatic! Just keep your mouth shut or it’s curtains for us all!

Strong Bad gets a hold of himself.

STRONG BAD: All right, Strong Bad. You can do this. Just be your cool, collected, irresistible self.

He opens the door.

STRONG BAD: We didn’t do anything! We’re innocent! We’re not worth wasting bullets on…

VOICE: Uh, hi Strong Bad.

Strong Bad sees that the visitors are Mr. Bland and Senor.

STRONG BAD: What the crap do you guys want?

MR. BLAND: Oh. Uh… we were just wondering… you know, we heard that you guys… you know, were getting together for something or other…

STRONG BAD: And at what point did we say this was any beeswax of yours?

MR. BLAND: Well… Senor and I… we were… you know, we just… wanted to see if you needed us for anything. Right, Senor?

SENOR: Todas las señoras dicen que soy mosca bonita para un individuo azul.

MR. BLAND: So, uh… can we help you guys?

STRONG BAD: You got any money?

MR. BLAND: Well, I found a dime on the sidewalk…

STRONG BAD (snatching the dime): Good enough.

MR. BLAND: Uh… is there anything else we can do?

STRONG BAD (false pleasantness): Well, I’ll check. Do we need a skinny little wimp and a moron who doesn’t have any shoulders? Oh, I’m sorry. We have no openings in those categories. Feel free to call back another time. Like, 200 years from now.

He slams the door in their faces.

MR. BLAND: Well, back to the fast-food business. Right, Senor?

SENOR: Voy a escuchar el álbum Chino de la Democracia del Descendiente.

MR. BLAND: Yeah. I really wish I knew what you’re saying…

Back inside, Strong Bad turns toward the living room.

STRONG BAD: False alarm, guys. Just a couple of auxiliary characters. I hate those things. Anyways, let’s get down to business. We’ve got the plan of attack hammered into shape, and we’ll have to go over it until we’ve all got it right.

No response.

STRONG BAD: Guys?

He peers over the furniture and sees that everybody has fallen asleep while hiding.

STRONG BAD: Well, fine! We’ll do it tomorrow at breakfast instead.

He rubs his forehead.

STRONG BAD: The peoples I have to deal with in this line of work. Mom was right. I shoulda got into radio instead.

He happens to glance in the direction of Pom Pom’s bedroom and sees that Pom Pom owns a waterbed. And it is unoccupied. With a whoop, Strong Bad races into the room and does a flying leap onto the bed.

STRONG BAD (relaxing): On the other hand, I definitely could get used to this.

He turns over with a self-satisfied smile and goes to sleep.