Welcome, ladies and germs! I originally began this short story in December of 2010, but considering Homestar Runner hasn't been updated in a while, I kind of lost interest, and track of time along with it. Still, I've decided to finish a fanfic for once, and since I already have a clear idea of how I want the story to end, I really have no excuse not to. Anyway, off we go!

Disclaimer: I do not own Homestar Runner or any members of its mythos. Just this crazy fanfic. I still try to make them act in-character, though.

Chapter 1

Like all things which happen in Free Country, USA, it all began with two guys with little grasp on reality doing what they did best: Running and plotting respectively. And it ended... in extremely weird fashion. But we'll burn that bridge when we come to it.

Anyway, as he often does, Homestar Michael (or was it Hal?) Runner was running throughout the field, with the wind blowing in his pasty white face and lacking a care in the world. Unlike most days, however, he had special plans brewing in his simple, yet ingenious mind. You see, the 2Tst (that's "twenty-tirst", for those of you with little mathematical knowledge) Annual Race to the Place Where Nobody's Been was coming up and, true to form, Homestar was hard at work making sure his legs didn't turn to jelly so he could bring home the shiny 1st-place trophy.

Suddenly, Homestar's run was interrupted by a strange noise. He listened more closely, and realized it wasn't just a noise. It was a voice nearby. Of course, it was unlike any voice he'd ever heard before (save one time where he was fiddling around with a helium tank he'd "borrowed" from Bubs, but that's another story entirely). He stopped his run, looking every which way to find out where the source of the noise was located. Suddenly, he zeroed in on it, and he could hear quite clearly what the voice was saying.

"One, two, one, two..." the voice rang out. The armless wonder dashed off to investigate.

Meanwhile, in the not-so-far-off nation of Strong Badia, the self-proclaimed leader (which is to say, Strong Bad) had prepared an incredibly ingenious and complex plot for his and The Cheat's latest caper, and he was now explaining said plot to his faithful yellow cohort through a series of detailed diagrams. In other words, he was in fact using various doodles he had made, which were apparently indecipherable to anyone but him. He'd even brought along one of those little pointy stick dealies that college professors and whatnot have.

"..and once the warthogs unleash their fiery vengeance," Strong Bad exclaimed deviously, "Bubs's secret stash will be ripe for the picking!" Strong Bad pointed to the doodle which was taped to the fence, displaying a crudely-drawn Bubs running from a pack of flaming warthogs while a smiling Strong Bad and The Cheat pilfered his concession stand. The words "Bubs", "The Cheat", "Me" and "Loot" were scribbled on the diagram, and a "Strong Bad Approved" stamp was proudly displayed on the ample blank space.

Strong Bad put the tip of his pointer to the ground. "So what do you think?" He asked The Cheat. The Cheat responded by making a drawn-out The Cheat noise as if to say "Well..." then proceeding to make several scribbly alterations to the plan, which were obscured from the view of the audience for plot reasons. Strong Bad eyed the modified doodle with a mix of suspicion and intrigue, then sighed. "All right, The Cheat, we'll do it your way. But this better be worth it." The Cheat squeaked an affirmative and nodded, and the duo ran off to gather supplies.

Meanwhile, as the wrassleman and his yellow lackey fled Strong Badia, Homestar approached The Stick. He knew the voice was coming from somewhere nearby.

"One, two, one, two..." It was only a faint whisper, but somehow it stood out against Homestar's footsteps and the seemingly omnipresent background music. Eventually, his searching provided some results. Homestar peered over one of the bushes which nobody ever seemed to bother to go behind, and upon making his discovery, his jaw dropped and he let out an audible gasp.

"Audible gasp!" Homestar shouted. There was some sort of person there doing push-ups, in spite of their lack of any visible arms. This, in itself, was not actually all that strange in the whimsical land of Free Country, USA. Rather, what was strange was that this person seemed to be... a girl. Of a distinctly "not-Marzipan" variety.

"One, two, one, two..." the orange-haired girl continued. For the record, those weren't "girl push-ups" she was doing. They were the for-real deal. (And she wasn't even dressed like Uncle Sam, or something equally ridiculous.) Homestar leaped over the bush and tapped on her shoulder with his non-existent finger.

"Hello?" He said to her. The girl ignored him. So he tried once more.

"Helloooo?" he said again, louder, clearer and more drawn out. Still she didn't pay attention. Disappointed but not truly surprised, Homestar decided not to pry further and started walking away.

Then he tripped over the bush, and his heel flew up and kicked her in the stomach. And she wasn't the least bit happy about that. The girl wasn't seriously hurt, but she was definitely irritated, and possibly suffering a mild concussion.

Once the girl got up from her sudden blunt trauma, she stood up straight, yanked Homestar's head out from the foliage and held him up, unintentionally (but nevertheless) allowing him to get a good look at her. Besides the aforementioned orange hair (which was done up in a pair of messy buns), she was clad in a short blue dress, and she was wearing an enormous gold medal with a red and white band around her neck, obviously obtained from A Sporting Event of Some Kind. Her eyes lacked any visible color, and they looked vacant and sleepy. Homestar figured maybe going home and taking a long nap would do her good.

He happened to be right about that part. A combination of sleep deprivation, intense exercise and the kick to her torso had made her light-headed, and her perception was less than perfect as a result.

"I asked you not to bug me while I'm training, Homeschool." Homeschool? Homestar thought. He hadn't heard that name in years, and it certainly wasn't his own. His nerdy maybe-a-distant-relative-of-his-of-some-kind-sorta, Homeschool Winner, had been missing ever since Bubs' party back in 2000. Nobody really put too much thought into where he might have gone; in fact, Homestar himself sort of just assumed he was living comfortably off the prize money from the Quiz Bowl not much earlier. Suddenly it dawned on Homestar exactly who he was talking to.

"Champeen? Is that you?" Homestar blurted out. Champeen's hazy eyes suddenly widened in realization and she dropped Homestar. Luckily, Homestar landed on his feet for once. She examined Homestar from head to foot. Yep, it was him. She didn't think he'd find her before the race, but she'd been training for a while, so she wasn't too worried.

"Homestar!" She said, "You're looking... leaner... since I last saw you." Champeen was visibly alarmed. Homestar, on the other hand, couldn't be more elated. "Wow, Champeen, I haven't seen you in yeaws!" He shouted with his trademark drawl.

His expression of joy suddenly changed to one of questioning anger.

"Hey, wait just a minute hewe!" Homestar was known to have random mood swings from time to time. They never lasted long, and they were never really supposed to be taken seriously. "Whewe have you been fow the past ten yeaws?"

Champeen just shrugged some kind of shoulder-less shrug. "Behind the bushes. It's quite cozy, it's just that nobody ever goes there for some silly reason." Homestar was taken aback a bit by this revelation. "Weally?" He leaned close to Champeen and his eyes darted back and forth as if he was hiding some kind of dark secret. "Do they have any of those stwange mushwooms I heaw tell about?" He clicked his tongue and raised his eyebrows suggestively.

Champeen sighed and shook her head. Same old Homestar, nutty as always.

Homestar lowered his head in disappointment, but raised it back up again. His mood swings had ended as quickly as they had begun. "Well, I guess it's back to wunning fow me, then. Bye, Champeen." He turned to leave.

"Wait, Homestar," Champeen said. Homestar came screeching to a halt. "Just do me one favor and don't tell anybody you saw me. I'm planning my comeback and I want it to be a surprise." Homestar nodded. "Okay. I'll bwing the nachos fow the aftewpawty. You go get some sleep and I'll see you latew." Homestar leapt over the bushes and ran off. Champeen just stood there, staring at him as he left. She'd forgotten what a nice guy he was. She almost felt bad about inevitably beating him in the race.

Almost.

Strong Bad and The Cheat made their trek toward Bubs' Concession Stand, and along the way, they discussed The Cheat's modifications to SB's plan and, in particular, what possible benefit they could have. Their scheming was soon to be interrupted, however. The camera panned over a little ways to the right, where Marzipan and a certain corn-dog-cotton-candy-looking lady were sitting.

"Well," Marzipan said solemnly to her new companion, "I guess the main reason I stay with Homestar is because he's the only guy around here who isn't actively malicious or creepy. He..." Marzipan trailed off. "Maybe we should leave."

The corn-dog lady looked at Marzipan. "Why?" Marzipan didn't have a chance to answer, since at that moment, Strong Bad and The Cheat walked by. Strong Bad happened to be in a fairly good mood that day (albeit for all the wrong reasons), so he greeted them as they passed.

"Hey Marzipan. Hey The Stick. Hey new girl." Strong Bad walked off-screen, then realized what a stupid mistake he'd made and walked back into view. Backwards.

"Okay," Strong Bad mused, "First question: Who are you? Second question: Do you think I'm hot?"

"Excuse me?" She said, half-confused and half-offended. Marzipan sighed. "That's why." Strong Bad decided to introduce himself to get off on the right foot with the new girl. "Let's get everything cleared up. I'm Strong Bad. He's The Cheat." He patted The Cheat on the head. The Cheat flashed his gold tooth. "We're awesome."

"Well, you can call me The Hurricane. I'm classy." The Hurricane got up. "Classy, eh? You sound like my type-" He was cut off by The Hurricane slapping him across the face. Marzipan hopped up and began walking away. "Yeah, we should get going. Come on, The Hurricane. I'll introduce you to my guitar." They left Strong Bag to rub his cheek in pain. The Cheat started making some The Cheat noises, but Strong Bad ignored him.

"New plan, The Cheat. The warthog caper can wait. Did see see those things on the ends of her legs?" The Cheat looked over to the absconding girls and made a confused The Cheat noise. "Yeah, those. They're made of gold! Can you imagine the kind of dough we could make if we sell those on the black market? Come on, The Cheat. Let's go get some bear traps and a chainsaw from Bubs."

Yep, that's about it for now. This is only a two-parter, so I'll try to have the last of it done fairly soon. Enjoy, and be sure to leave me some feedback if you do! I love hearing from people if they like my work, or even if they want to see me improve on something.