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If there's anything you do on an overnight business trip it’s get a crappy hotel room.
Homestar Runner following him the whole way was an unwanted addition, though. In fact, the business trip itself was an unwanted addition to his day. But Homestar had a way of clinging onto him. Like some sort of infectious lump. Or worse, his parole officer. Though, Homestar was a lot more difficult to shake.
As the sun began to set over the field of green bush-hills, Strong Bad and Homestar approached Bubs’ sometimes concession stand, sometimes motor lodge, sometimes black market. Once they finally get to it, Homestar plops down his luggage under the desk. Despite it being only an overnight stay, Homestar felt the need to pack half of his house to take with him in a large overstuffed suitcase. Strong Bad leans an elbow over the counter and slams his fist down on a beaten up bell for service. The puny bell croaks out a weak ding and Bubs rises up from under the desk.
“Flabbadigglegoo!” Bubs exclaims, arms flailing wildly in the air.
“...What?” Strong Bad asks.
“Flabbadigglegoo! My new catchphrase!”
Strong Bad and Homestar don't say anything and the three of them all just look at each other in silence for a really long time. A few crickets chirp to break the silence.
Eventually, Strong Bad clears his throat. “Say Bubs,” he says. “You do hotels, right?”
“Depends on your definition of a hotel!”
“I’ll settle for a motel disguised as a hotel.”
“Then you’re in luck!” Bubs says, enthusiastically whipping out a check-in book and pen. “What can I do for ya?”
“Yeah, me and my partner here are looking for a room,” he says, making a gesture towards Homestar behind him. “Just for tonight.”
“Oh!” Bubs’ eyes dart between the two. Stricken with realization, his permanent smile shifts up slyly. “Ohhh… I getcha. Wink!” He blinks an eye shut.
Strong Bad tilts his head. He glances at Homestar and back to Bubs. His expression drops, realizing the implication of two men staying in an overnight hotel room together. “Oh! No!” He waves his gloves back and forth, dismissing the horrible thought. “Business partner! I meant business partner!”
“Oh, you don't have to tell me!” Bubs cheekily teases. “I’m a no-tell hhhmm… otel! What name should I put you two love birds under?”
“We’re not— Ugh!” Strong Bad groans, humiliated and embarrassed.
“Paul Ramone and Little Dee Dee!” Homestar responds for the both of them.
“Whatever…” Strong Bad grumbles. He could care less what they went by as long as nobody knew it was them. Bubs starts writing. “And, uh, we’ll take two twin beds. Preferably two that are very, very far from each other. Like, different rooms maybe.”
“Sorry, no can do. We’re all out,” Bubs responds. “But I do have a honeymoon suite fit for two!”
“What!? What kind of an illegitimate hotel has a honeymoon suite!? He slams his fist down on the desk and points at the clipboard. “And I can clearly see on the check-in book that you’ve got three available!”
“What checkin’ book?”
“The one right—” He looks down and the check-in book has mysteriously disappeared. “What!? But it was right—”
“Do you want a room or not!?” Bubs shouts.
“Fine!” Strong Bad throws his fists in the air. He’s officially fed up.
“Alright, here's the key to your room!” Bubs holds out the key to the two men. “Have fun, boys! Wink!”
Strong Bad snatches the key from Bubs’ flipper. “Whatever man. Come on, Homestar,” he commands as he storms around the side of the building.
“Thanks, Bubs!” Homestar calls out, following closely behind while trudging his luggage. “...Who was that guy?” he whispers as they turn the corner.
Strong Bad lifts the key up to the door knob on the shady backdoor behind the building. The keyhole makes a satisfying click as the door unlocks. He pushes the door open and lets himself in, not waiting for Homestar. The room is noticeably much bigger than the outside of the building would have you believe.
Pushed against the wall is a single heart shaped bed. Luckily, it's big enough that if they were to share, Strong Bad wouldn't have to worry too much about colliding limbs. Sitting in front of the bed is a small busted up TV that’s about as worn down as the dresser it’s sitting on. Thank God. Television.
Rose petals are strewn across the floor and a few unlit, unscented candles are spread between two nightstands on either side of the bed. Fortunately, there’s a bathroom! Unfortunately, there’s a bathroom. He swears he sees a cockroach walk out holding a newspaper under its arm.
“Wow, this is literally the worst honeymoon suite I have ever seen,” he says. Not that he’s ever seen one outside of television. “I mean, if we were really on a honeymoon I’d say this is definitely not worth the money we didn't pay!”
Thunk!
“Ow!”
He looks behind him. Homestar’s on the floor with his suitcase stuck in the door. “Strong Bad, buddy, a little help?” he asks, helplessly.
Strong Bad rolls his eyes and grabs the handle of the suitcase. He turns it around and it slides through the doorway with ease.
“Woah, you’re like magic!” says Homestar.
“Yeah, and you’re like stupid.” He throws Homestar’s stuff off to the side and it makes a shattering glass noise.
Homestar hops off the floor and takes a look around. “Huh… Roomy!”
Homestar always had a way of looking at things in a positive light. His blatant stupidity shields him from having any real judgment of a bad situation. He doesn't hesitate to flop down on the bed with a relieved sigh, crushing any and all bed bugs in the process. Strong Bad hears the screams of a tiny bug society but only for a brief second. He twists a thumb in his imaginary ear hole.
“Oh man!” says Homestar. “This bed… is the most uncomfortable bed I have ever laid on.”
“Lucky for you,” Strong Bad responds. “You’ll be sleeping on the floor.”
“What!?” Homestar shoots up. “Why!?”
“Look, man. It’s weird enough that I'm sharing a room with you. But there is no way that I am sleeping in the same bed as you. Now boot it! We need to go to sleep early so we can get up in time to miss ice breakers with our colleagues!”
“Hm, okay,” Homestar reluctantly agrees. “Can we order some pizza first?”
“Pizza, hm?” Strong Bad considers it for a moment. He was pretty hungry. And a pizza did sound pretty good. And it would be a little fun to rub it all over the bottom of the mattress when they leave so the whole room smells like gross cheese. “I guess I could go for a slice or two… or three… or eight.”
“Yeah! And while we wait, we can go swim in the ‘ool!”
Strong Bad gulps. “ ...Swim?”
The sun is gone and the moon is up. Strong Bad stares down at his reflection in the water, illumined by the reflecting pattern of light casting from the pool. Homestar’s swimming laps in his conveniently packed bathing suit and cap.
“Come on in, Strong Bad!” He shouts from the other side of the water. “The water’s… warm?” He cringes.
“Yeah, I don't think so.” Strong Bad takes a few steps back. “I think I’ll just stand here and moon bathe. Get my moon tan on. Besides, this is my only set of pants. The last thing I want is to walk around at a public event with wet pants… ” He shudders. “Trust me. Not a situation you wanna be in.”
Homestar swims over and stops at the edge of the pool by Strong Bad’s shoes. “Then just take them off?”
“And what about a-my underwears?”
“I could lend you some?”
Strong Bad gags. “Uh, no. I’m not wearing anything where your nethers have been.”
“Okay, okay,” Homestar nods. Agreeably, that would be pretty gross. “I’ll just buy you a pair from Bubs!”
“That’s almost worse.”
“Strong Bad, I’m getting the impression that you don't want to swim. Any particular reason why aside from the fact that this pool probably hasn't been cleaned since before the dinosaurs were wiped out?”
There was a reason. A very unfathomably embarrassing reason. Besides, this is Homestar he’s talking to. Anything Homestar’s done within the past hour couldn't be any more embarrassing than Strong Bad’s reason not to half skinny dip. It’s just the principle of the thing!
“...Homestar, what is said on the business trip stays on the business trip, right?”
“Sure," Homestar shrugs.
Strong Bad takes a deep breath. He looks to his left. He looks to his right. “...I can't swim,” he whispers.
“But I thought you took swimming lessons?”
“Yeah, because I can't swim!”
“Oh.” Homestar looks down and sways in the water while he thinks of what to do next. “...That's okay,” he slowly begins. “ I’ll teach you!” he says, excitedly kicking his legs and bobbing in the water.
“You? Teach me?” He scoffs. “Oh, that’s hilarious.” Strong Bad turns away with his arms crossed. “I’ll pass, thanks.”
“What? Are you…”
Strong Bad can already fill in the blanks of that sentence in his head. There is preemptive rage building up in his core like a volcano ready to erupt. He squeezes his eyes shut. Don’t say it… Don’t say it… Don’t say it…
“Chicken? Bakawk?”
Strong Bad’s eyes shoot open. The whistle has blown its steam. He whips around and begins shimmying his pants off.
“Alright, you asked for it!” A stifled giggle exits Homestar as Strong Bad’s pants fall to his ankles. “I’ll show you! I can learn how to swim faster than you can figure out how to pronounce Hippopotomonstrosesqui… puh.. Whatever!”
Homestar only raises an eyebrow. Strong Bad kicks his pants off to the side and sits down, letting his legs dip into the water. He ushers Homestar closer and holds him by the shoulders with both gloves.
“You didn't pee in here or anything did you?”
“Not yet.”
“Ew!”
“Okay, just wrap your arms around me and I’ll lead.”
Strong Bad stifles a laugh. “Yeah, right, the guy with no arms is going to lead.”
Either way, he obliges anyway and tightly holds Homestar as they begin to tread backwards. He slips into the concerningly warm water a lot quicker than he anticipated he would. A little taken aback by the splash of water that emits, he unintentionally grips around Homestar’s torso tighter.
Maybe Homestar could lead just a little.
“Okay, now just kick your legs,” Homestar instructs.
Strong Bad weakly kicks his leg with a pathetic ‘eh’ sound escaping his mouth.
“Uh, yeah… Not like that,” he says. “You have to really kick it! Y’know? Give it the business!”
“I’ll give you the business!”
He kicks again, this time harder.
“That’s better! I’ll start heading backwards now so you can get a feel for it.”
They float a little farther into the pool and Strong Bad keeps kicking. It’s weird how even when you’re in the water you can still build up a sweat.
“Y’know,” Strong Bad says through kicks. “You’re pretty good at swimming for someone that I have seen swim maybe only twice in the past 11 years.” He’s not entirely sure whether it’s a compliment or not but Homestar seems to take it that way.
“Yeah, I do a lot of practicing,” Homestar responds. “I used to teach my little cousins how to swim when they were little… Well, littler .”
Strong Bad snickers at the thought of Homestar teaching a class of kids. It seemed fitting. Homestar had always been naturally good with kids. Maybe because he was on the same IQ level as them if not lower.
“Your little cousins, huh?” Strong Bad says. “Haven't seen them in a while. How’s that hot aunt of yours?”
“Pretty good! She–” Homestar pauses. He furrows his brow. “Hey…”
They keep treading backwards until they’ve made it about halfway and Homestar stops. “Do you think you’re ready to try it by yourself now?” he asks
“Psh! I’ve been ready!” Strong Bad replies. “I was just humoring your little attempt at teaching me. I’m a natural!”
“Okay, I’m letting you go!”
As Homestar begins slipping away he can feel his weight start to pull him down. “Uh!” Strong Bad panics. “I– I changed my mind!”
“Too late!”
“Wait!”
He squeezes his eyes shut, fully expecting himself to sink to the bottom or drown trying. But when he doesn’t feel himself being submerged by water his fears are relieved. He peeks an eye open. Homestar’s still across from him. He peeks open his other eye. He’s still floating in the water. Naturally, his legs are kicking and his arms are swaying, keeping himself afloat.
“Hey…” he says. “I’m doing it!” His machismo immediately takes over. “I mean, of course I am! I told you I was a natural.”
Homestar swims closer. “Yep! You were right! Sorry I ever doubted you.”
“Yeah, you better be sorry.” Strong Bad slashes his glove through the water and it splashes in Homestar’s face. “Now I can terrorize you on land and in water!”
Laughing, Homestar splashes water back in Strong Bad’s face. Instead of getting mad or punching Homestar in the face, he laughs too and splashes back. They’re now in a dorky game of splashies and chasing each other around the pool while giggling like nerds.
“Hey! You boys takin’ a midnight dip?”
They both freeze. They slowly turn their heads. Standing by the edge of the pool is Coach Z holding a pool towel to his side.
“Mind if I join you’s two?” he asks.
“Aah!” Strong Bad nearly jumps out of his skin. “Yes! I would mind that very much! Now get outta of here!” He points a daggered glove.
“Coach Z, what are you even doing out here?” asks Homestar. “Isn’t your government assigned curfew almost up?”
“Well, who d’ya think keeps the water warm…?”
…
Homestar and Strong Bad wash themselves off outside of Bubs’ with the complementary hose attached to the side of the building. They take turns hosing each other down and shivering in the freezing cold air.
“Here’s that pizza you ordered!” says Bubs, bringing out a large box of Bubs’ Old Pizza to the counter.
Strong Bad takes the box. “Thanks man. Uh, you don’t happen to have any–-”
“Yep!” Bubs hands over a sketchy torn up grocery bag. Strong Bad looks inside and sees a hopefully fresh pair of tighty whities for him.
“Thanks. Uh…” He slips into a whisper. “My per diem covers undie malfunctions, right?”
“You better hope so!”
“Uh, if not, just take it out of Homestar’s account.
“I’m waaay ahead of you…”
Once they’re back in their room, they toss the pizza onto the bed and begin to get ready for bed. After drying himself off and getting changed in the bathroom, Strong Bad steps into the bedroom. Homestar’s rummaging through his luggage with a towel wrapped around his waist.
Strong Bad sighs. “Hey, uh, thanks for… teaching me how to swim.”
“No problem.” Homestar pulls out a This Is Not A ‘This is Not A Fugazi T-Shirt’ T-Shirt . Strong Bad looks away just in time as Homestar sheds his towel and lifts the shirt over his head.
“Woah!” exclaims Strong Bad. “I’m standing right here, dude! Do that in the bathroom!”
Homestar rolls his eyes. “Strong Bad, I get changed in a locker room all the time. I think I know what I’m doing.”
He’s not exactly sure what that means and he’s not sure Homestar is either. And, frankly, he’s afraid to ask. “Look, the biz-trip non-disclosure agreement still stands,” he says, arms crossed and facing the wall. “You aren't to tell any person or omniscient metaphysical idea of a person ‘bout this, y’hear?”
“Right, right, right.”
There’s a pause.
“You can look now by the way,”
Relieved, Strong Bad turns around. “Good.” Not even looking at Homestar, he beelines it for the pizza box.
It’s not hot but for what it lacks in temperature it makes up in grease. From how long it had been sitting there it had made a greasy indent in the comforter. He picks up a slice and all the cheese immediately falls off. He shovels it back on and eats it anyway.
“Maybe we should have got some plates…” says Homestar. He replaces his propeller hat for a sleeping cap.
“Whatever, man," Strong Bad says through bites. "The world is our dinner plate."
“That’s just plain unsanitary and unnatural.”
Strong Bad swallows. Strenuously, albeit. “You’ve just spent too much time living with a girl! Just stick with me, kid. I’ll show you what being a man is all–” He’s interrupted by a burp. “...About.”
A scoff escapes Homestar. Strong Bad tosses a slice and it hits Homestar square in the face. Unphased, he begins slowly eating it. “Mmh! This could almost pass as good pizza!”
“Sure. You know where the remote is?” Strong Bad climbs onto the bed, searching. It creaks and sinks into itself a bit.
Homestar licks the pizza out of his eyes and scans the room. “Uh, I don't think there is one…”
Strong Bad groans.
“I think we have to use the dials on the TV.”
Strong Bad groans even louder.
Homestar squats down in front of the TV and messes with the knobs. He presses a button and the screen lights up. Static. “Uh, just hang on.” He stands up and fiddles with the antennas. Distorted noises come out of the screen.
“Yeah, yeah, keep doing that!” Strong Bad encourages. “Try for one of the rated dirty for teenage hormones channels.” He climbs beneath the covers.
Nothing is showing. After a few minutes, Homestar gives up and punches the TV. That seems to do the trick. The static flickers away and turns into crunchy black and white television.
“Aw, what!?” Strong Bad exclaims. “What is this farkle!? I want squelch! Or zilch… or zonk.”
There’s a whiny groan on the other side of the wall behind the bed stand. “Can you keep it down, pleeeease…?” the soft voice mopes.
Strong Bad recognizes the infliction of that wheedling all too well. “Strong Sad?” He frantically looks around the room. “Where are you? Is your dead spirit trapped inside this gross hobo room?”
“No, I’m in the next room!”
“Next room?” says Strong Bad. Homestar and Strong Bad look at each other. They both crawl over the bed and listen through the wall. “There’s another room?”
“You know, I’m not exactly sure where I am,” says Strong Sad. “I got a room here to get away from you back at home so I could finish up on my kirigami bust of Lou Barlow. But once you checked in I-”
“Hi Strong Sad!” Homestar greets, not realizing he’s way too late into the conversation now.
There’s a pause behind the wall. “Homestar? What are you and Strong Bad doing in a…” Strong Bad can already hear what’s about to come next. “Ohh… Ohohoh!”
Strong Bad growls. “Shut up, man! It’s not like that!”
“Okay, Strong Bad,” says Strong Sad through bits of laughter. “Whatever you say.”
“Strong Sad, does the TV in your void work?” Homestar talks into the wall as loud as he can with his face mushed up to it. “I can't get any good channels!”
“Oh yeah, me neither. I tried getting it to work but I just kept getting a bunch of weird shows. I mean, My Mother Is A Wind Turbine? Gennedy Goose? Who’s Your Daddy? I don't recognize any of these shows! But I imagine you two’ll be too busy-–-”
Strong Bad punches the wall and there’s a loud ‘ksssh’ noise of paper falling.
“Oh no! Lou Barlow!”
Strong Bad bursts into a fit of laughter.
Homestar picks up the rotary phone on his side of the nightstand. “Maybe I can call room service.” He dials the sloppily written number on a sticky note next to it. It rings.
There’s a click. “Hello?” Bubs answers.
“Is this room service?”
“Yeah. Who this be?”
“It’s me, Homestar. Um,”
Strong Bad cuts in. “Tell him his TV sucks and to bring us a few cold ones.”
Homestar nods. “Uh, Strong Bad says to tell you that your TV sucks and to bring us a few cold ones.”
“What? I thought I set some in there for you two.”
“No, I can't see any.”
“Darn rats.”
The call ends on the other end and Homestar puts the phone back down. “I didn't get us a new TV or the cold ones.”
“Whatever man." Strong Bad kicks the covers back up and crawls inside. “This day has successfully sucked. I’m going to sleep.”
“But it’s still early!” says Homestar. “ We haven't even played girls in their underwear having a pillow fight yet!”
“Homestar, I’m not really in the mood for…” He stops and considers it for a moment before quickly shaking the thought out of his head “No, no, not now!”
“Alright…”
Strong Bad gets situated under the covers again and rolls over on his side. With a sigh, he shuts his eyes and tries to fall asleep. Emphasis on tries. Something about his natural born instinctive intuition tells him he’s being watched. Strong Bad rolls over. He peeks his eyes open and Homestar’s staring right at him. In bed. Next to him.
“Um, Homestar.”
“Yeah?”
“What are you doing?”
“Um, sleeping?”
“First of all, people usually sleep with their eyes closed. Second of all, you’re sleeping on the floor, remember?”
“I thought that was still up for debate?”
“You want a debate? Here.” He sits up and raises his glove in the air. “All in favor of Strong Bad keeping the bed? Aye!” Strong Bad covers his mouth and mumbles a second, “Aye.” He throws his glove back up. “All opposed?”
“Nay!”
“The ayes have it. Git.”
“Aw man.” Homestar sits up and crawls out of bed. “Well okay. Since it was fair.”
“While you're down there, why don't you turn the light off.”
Homestar turns the light off and the TV while he’s at it. He pulls a blanket and a pillow out from his luggage and sets it on the ground next to the mattress. Strong Bad closes his eyes and listens as Homestar tries to get comfortable.
It reminds him of the sleepovers they’d have as kids. Sleepovers were usually reserved for special occasions in the Strong House but at the Star-Runner’s it was free range. Homestar was usually the one on the floor then too.
Not that they hadn't had any sleepovers since then. But of course once you’re older you stop calling it that and start calling it “hanging out with the guys.” Even if it is just one guy… And a bed. A large heart shaped bed surrounded by rose petals and candles…
…
…Man!
He opens his eyes and looks over the side of the bed. Homestar’s curled up on the floor already fast asleep in his sleep mask with drool pouring out of his mouth. Right now, Strong Bad really wishes he had a pen to draw on his face with.
There’s a few clumsy clunks from the vents and the room begins to fill with cool air. Really cool air. Freezing actually.
Aw, crap! Strong Bad thinks. The one good quality this room has and it’s junk . He hugs his arms over himself as he begins to tremble. He tries to cover up as much as he can but to no avail of his paper thin blankets. Maybe Homestar’s got some spare blankets in his infinite inventory. He looks over the dark floor and sees the bag across from Homestar by the door.
Carefully, Strong Bad climbs off the bed. He’s got himself sandwiched in a tiptoe between the mattress and Homestar’s unconscious body. He tries for a step but his unfortunate proportions give him a disadvantage and he ends up stumbling over Homestar and kicking him in the face.
“Ow!” Homestar yelps, darting up from his pillow. He lifts his mask and blinks a couple times. “Strong Bad, what are you doing?”
Strong Bad sits up from where he had fallen onto the floor. “Shut up! Go back to sleep! It’s really cold in here and I need another blanket!”
Homestar smiles. “Well, well, well… I guess it wasn't so stupid to overpack now was it?”
“I said shaddup!”
“Well, you won't have any luck. I only packed this blanket.”
He hugs his knees to his chest. “Great. So now what, I’m gonna freeze to death?”
“I know!” says Homestar. “I could get us some firewood!
“Still a business trip, Homestar.”
“Oh. We could… huddle together like penguins!”
“No,” Strong Bad immediately responds.
“Come on!” He scoots across the floor to Strong Bad and makes a distressed quacking noise.
“What is that?”
“Penguin noise!”
“Penguins don't—”
Homestar pulls him into a no-armed smothering hug. Flail and shout as he might, he can't get loose. He tries to pry himself off but his face is stuck pushed into Homestar’s pillowy chest. After a bit more fighting, he eventually gives up and sighs. Once he lets himself ease into it, it’s actually really nice. Homestar’s natural body heat is abnormally high compared to his own.
“Woah…” Strong Bad sinks into Homestar a little more. “You're like a giant heating pad. I’m teetering between concerned and ‘could care less’ right now. It’s like I'm hugging a big dumb roasted marshmallow.” Not only does he feel like a roasted marshmallow, he kind of smells like one too. Strong Bad wonders if that’s the effect of him thinking it's a camping trip still.
Homestar giggles. “Oh, stop. You flatter me.”
Strong Bad almost lets himself fall asleep right there, cuddled up in his lap like an oversized baby. Reflecting on the humility and emasculation of the situation, he clears his throat and shoves himself off Homestar.
“Okay, I’ve decided. You can sleep on the bed.”
“Yay—”
“But!” Strong Bad covers Homestar’s mouth with a cupped glove. “We’re gonna lay down some ground rules first. No touching, no tickling, no talking, and especially no cuddling. Comprende?”
Homestar nods.
“Good.” He slowly lowers his glove. “And bring that blanket with you.”
They get back into bed on opposite sides of each other. Strong Bad takes up most of the room while Homestar’s cusping the edge. With the addition of the extra blanket, it's definitely warmer. But not enough to get him through the night. Unfortunately, due to the no touching rule, it happens to still be cold.
Strong Bad looks at Homestar to see if his mistake has gone unnoticed and if he can save himself some dignity. Homestar looks at him with a knowing look. Strong Bad sighs. “Okay. I’m…” He looks between Homestar and the thin walls. He enters a whisper. “I’m willing to withdraw the no touching rule. Just… just don't be weird, okay?”
Without hesitation, Homestar immediately slides over to the other side of the bed and flops himself over Strong Bad. He’d fight him off if he wasn't so exhausted and cold. Though Homestar’s crushing the life out of him, the warmth is beginning to set in and Strong Bad can feel drowsiness taking him over. It’s been a weird night for all parties included. But this has got to be the weirdest part.
“Strong Bad?” Homestar whispers.
“What’d I tell you about talking?” he lazily whispers back.
“I just wanted to say thanks for taking me on this camping trip with you.”
“How many times do I have to tell you this isn't a camping trip. It’s a business trip.”
“Mmh, no, I’m pretty sure this one was titled camping trip. Anyways, I was kind of hoping we’d be able to see some stars from here. Eat some beans from a can on a stick. Maybe cuddle up by the campfire—”
“There will be no cuddling.”
“Well, it’s a little late for that, don't you think?”
Homestar’s legs are tangled around his own and Strong Bad’s got one arm wrapped around his chest. Does it count as cuddling if you hate the guy you're cuddling? And does it count as hate if you don't exactly want him to move?
“...I just want to sleep, man.”
“Okay,” Homestar yawns and pulls his mask over his eyes. If only getting him to shut up was always that easy. “Goodnight, Strong Bad.”
“Whatever...”
Strong Bad’s eyes start to get heavier. They routinely shut for a couple seconds before opening back up again.
And as he slowly falls asleep…
“RISE AND SHINE SOLDIER!”
“AAAHH!”
Strong Bad fumbles out of bed, tied up in sheets and blankets. Playing the Reveille bugle call on an out of tune trumpet, Homestar marches in place with a bowl on his head. Strong Bad groans loudly. Just when he had gotten to sleep too.
Homestar drops the trumpet to his side and stands still with his chest puffed out. “We’ve got a big day ahead of us so up and attem! Let’s show those foreign conglomerate pansies what we’re made of!” He crouches. “Hut hut! Hike!” He runs in the opposite direction and slams into the wall and onto the floor. “...Ow.”
“Ugh," Strong Bad groans. "This is gonna be a long email…”