Marzipan kept her arms tightly weaved across her chest as she made the walk home. Maybe she was overreacting. Mistakes happened didn't they?
Not ... mistakes like that, though. She would have responded the same way to a girl's name, wouldn't she? Or someone else's? It's not as if the fact that was Stron...
She sighed. Who am I kidding? It's because it was his name that I'm reacting like this.
Homestar's relationship with Strong Bad was odd before. He was always blowing her off because Strong Bad might be at bowling this week, or he might come to the bar after work. She didn't think it meant anything at first. But now it was upsetting.
Just ... Strong Bad? Why Strong Bad? She shook her head. Anyone else would have been a mistake. Strong Bad was... an insult.
Speaking of which...
"Hey, Marzipan," a very self-assured voice greeted her as she neared her house. "Fancy meeting you out here while I'm... walking by." He'd been 'walking by' for about the last half hour since discovering Marzipan had left her house. Now seemed like the appropriate time to test out the effectiveness of his experiment.
She sighed angrily. "What do you want?" she asked, not bothering to disguise the annoyance in her voice.
"I think the real question we should be asking here is what do you want? Or... maybe who," Strong Bad replied.
"What are you babbling about?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at him.
He tapped his fingers together. "Well, a little bird told me that you and Homestar are having some problems lately. I was wondering if there was anything I could do to... um, help."
She laughed bitterly. He could stay out of her ex-boyfriend's head, for starters.
"A little bird, huh," she muttered. "Homestar and I are spending some time apart. We need to re-evaluate our relationship, but that doesn't concern you."
"Aw, that sucks, sorry to hear it," Strong Bad said quickly, not sounding in the least bit sincere. "Hey, you know, I hear one of the best ways to uh... re-evaluate a relationship is to like, have a different relationship with somebody else for a while. Just for comparison. And if that other one happens to be better, well... I mean, it's a win, win situation."
Marzipan glared at him. "Hmm. Yes, well, if it's all the same to you I really need to be alone for a while."
Strong Bad blinked. Alone? No, no... that wasn't how this was supposed to work. Something was wrong, here. She still seemed to be acting an awful lot like her normal, un-infatuated self. "Are you sure? I got some time. I'd totally be up for some being alone with... you." Okay, that came out kind of awkward. He needed to be more convincing than that. "You know you want to."
"Ugh," she groaned, but realized how ... insulting that probably sounded. Well, some of that insult was justified. "I'm positive I don't want yo... any company."
"Okay, now wait... so how positive do you mean when you say positive? It's kind of important, because if it's like, the 'I'm playing hard to get' kind of positive, that's a good thing. I can work with that." He paused. "...be honest, did you break up with Homestar because of me?"
"You could say that," she sighed, frustrated. "Strong Bad, you know as well as I do that nothing will ever happen between us."
"Never say 'ever'," Strong Bad pointed out. "S-seriously, you mean to say you don't feel even the tiniest bit more attracted to me than usual? Like... maybe just in the last few days?"
She raised an eyebrow. "No. In fact? Less so than usual."
Strong Bad slapped his forehead and groaned, face going a bit red under his mask. Great. Now he just made himself look like a total moron in front of Marzi. "I'm gonna kill Strong Sad," he muttered.
He cleared his throat. "Okay, well... I think I actually have, um... something I should be doing. So I'll see you later. Unless you change your mind- in which case, call me." With that, he hastily escaped, shortcutting through her hedges just to get out of sight faster.
Not cool. He had really banked on this dumb love potion working, and now- well, at least he hadn't paid for it. But still, Strong Sad had gone and gotten his hopes up. Stupid, nerdy brother and his stupid fake potions.
After much arguing, the stupid, nerdy brother in question managed to convince Strong Bad that maybe Marzipan just didn't drink the melonade yet. She was a big fan of water, afterall. Water and organic teas. She hardly ever drank super sugary juice. This bought Strong Sad a few more days before Strong Bad totally flipped out on him for the 'useless' endeavor.
Well, supposedly useless. Maybe if the purple, cut-off shorts hadn't been Homestar's, and maybe if some of those blonde strands of hair hadn't been from his Halloween costume last year, and maybe if those scraps of paper with Marzipan's handwriting on it hadn't also included scribblings of ducks and bugs by Homestar, the potion would have been useless. But it was doing its job, all right- it just had the wrong target.
The increasingly frustrated wrong target. The dreams were getting more frequent, more vivid, more kinky than ever, and he was in less and less control. The faux Strong Bad that played mind games with him took a day off here, a day off there, but the nights where he was gone were filled with explicit fantasies about Strong Bad pinning him to the bed ... or his desk ... or pretty much anywhere he wanted and having his way with Homestar, who- at least in dream form- welcomed the advances eagerly until he was a whimpering, lusty mess just begging for more.
Pom Pom tried desperately to comfort his friend, to get him to relax, but after a week without any change it seemed hopeless.
"Yuh-huh. Every night for the past week, apparently," Pom Pom sighed. He paused, waiting for the other person on the line to respond. "Well, you're a psych major ... I figured you'd have an idea. Mmhmm. That sort of frequency implies a borderline obsession...?" He sighed. He figured as much. "Well, Homestar's always seemed to have a thing for Strong Bad, but ... well, you should have seen his face when he told me he was having these super crazy sex dreams about him. I'm worried about him. This can't be healthy."
Unbeknownst to the speaker, Strong Bad himself had been just walking up to the office to postpone his time off request, seeing as Marzipan was being so picky about her beverages- according to Strong Sad, anyway. He was now frozen with his hand hovering above the door handle at the last few sentences of Pom Pom's conversation.
"What?" he mouthed silently as the overheard discussion sank in. His initial reaction was disgust. He decided against entering Pom Pom's office and retreated back to his desk, wearing a very uncomfortable expression at the thought of being included in Homestar's sexual fantasies. Not that he didn't suspect the idiot was probably playing for the other team, so to speak, but... ugh. No wonder the guy never left him alone...
Then again, maybe there was a way to use this to his advantage. Homestar, obsessed? And now, the ultimate blackmail... Strong Bad smirked to himself. Okay, grossness aside, he could totally put a positive use to this bit of information. After all, when was tormenting Homestar ever not a good way to pass the time.
He locked out his computer, bringing up a blue screen error message and left his desk, heading over to Homestar's cubicle.
Homestar was typing away, trying to make up for last time. After last week's atrocious performance, he decided to go out of his way to make sure this week's were perfect. Not that anyone ever really noticed if they were truly 'perfect', but they did notice when it was half-assed so the extra effort was worth it.
He sighed and stretched, cracking his neck with a yawn.
Strong Bad leaned against the edge of the cubicle smugly. "Better stay awake, this office is supposed to be a G-rated environment," he snickered.
Homestar practically jumped out of his skin, but over the past few days he'd half-trained himself not to look around at the sound of Strong Bad's voice no matter how bad he wanted to. He cleared his throat and glared at his screen, which was... a little hard to see since nearly every ounce of blood in him had rushed straight to his face.
"Wh-what do you want, I'm busy," he huffed.
"Yeah, right." Strong Bad stepped forward and jabbed the power button on his monitor. "Busy avoiding looking at me, you mean. Not that I blame you."
"Hey! I'm working," he snapped, glaring at him. Big mistake. He pulled his eyes away nervously and pretended to be focused on the button that turned his monitor back on. "D-don't you have a project to do?"
"My computer crashed," Strong Bad replied. Oh man, this was... well, mean. But also way more fun now that he knew why the dipwit was being weird around him. "I'd ask you to help me fix it, but I wouldn't want to go and make your little 'condition' any worse by giving you more real life situations for your brain to pervert on a nightly basis."
Homestar twitched, going pale. "...what?"
"You heard me. I know all about your secret, man," Strong Bad snorted, resting an arm on Homestar's computer monitor. "And let me tell you, I find it hilarious. I'd be flattered if I wasn't so creeped out, but still," He snickered.
He tensed up, face going from deathly pale to bright red in record time. He'd have gotten to his feet if he wasn't so sure his legs would give out. "I-i-i... gjjjk." Brain function was at a minimum, if that. Whatever part wasn't stammering incoherently (he was fairly sure he was trying to say 'how') was going a mile a minute. Theories on how he could have found out raced through his mind, but more prominently there were visions of last Monday's dream involving him, his cubicle, Strong Bad, and Strong Bad's possibly-fictional ability to undo a pair of jeans with just his teeth. Naturally, his brain would gravitate towards that dream, just to make this a million times more awkward and impossible to deal with.
Finally, something that actually sounded like a work blurted out of his mouth. "WHAT."
"Wow, those must be some dreams," Strong Bad observed. It took a lot to render Homestar speechless. "Anyway I know I'm hot and everything, but just for the record, I am not interested. Figured I should clarify that, so as to keep your weird Homestar fantasies and reality properly separated."
Homestar relaxed slightly. Okay, ow? That sort of gave him a sharp pain in his chest. He growled and got to his feet, pointing in the direction of Strong Bad's cubicle. "Get. Out."
"Last time I checked you weren't my boss." Strong Bad folded his arms over his chest. "I'm not done yet. While we're on this topic of discussion, if you're really that into me, you should probably let Marzipan know you're like... gay or whatever so she can move on. If you do that, I might forgive you for having creepy dreams about me."
"I'm not gay," Homestar flared, jabbing him in the chest. "And you stay away from Marzipan, w-we're just going through a rough patch." His face reddened. And the dreams aren't creepy, they're just unnaturally hot. His brain to mouth filter had been in overdrive all week, and it was paying off.
Strong Bad raised an eyebrow at him. "Whatever, man. You guys are always going through rough patches. I'm not promising anything, because if she happens to decide she wants a real boyfriend, I'm not gonna say no."
Homestar blinked back shock. "REAL BOYFRIEND! I'm plenty real now GET OUT," he sputtered, drawing attention to the conversation. If he noticed all eyes were gravitating towards him he clearly didn't care.
One of their seemingly endless amount of bosses shushed Homestar. "Quit screwing around and get back to work, you two." Homestar blushed at the unfortunate choice of words.
Strong Bad rolled his eyes and glared at the supervisor, finally complying and heading back to his own cubicle. "Seeya around, dork. And get that mind of yours out of the gutter."
He sat down back at his desk, a jittery mess but he tried to work on his reports.
Strong Bad knew. He knew, and it was a big joke to him and worse yet ...
...but just for the record, I am not interested.
He winced. Not interested? Not even a little? He stared at his reports. Well, why the hell NOT?
Homestar was a great boyfriend, if he said so himself. Sure, he forgot birthdays and major romantic holidays, but he was sweet, goofy. He always got Marzipan candy she liked if he stopped by the gas station, he was more than happy to listen to her latest song no matter how atrocious it was, he was more than willing to give a back rub, and he was, if Marzipan's reactions were an indication, amazing in the sack.
He pouted bitterly. So why wasn't he interested? Straight, shmaight. Homestar was straight, yet there was no use denying that he was seriously crushing on Strong Bad. He'd given up that argument days ago, even if he didn't understand why him of all people.
He hit 'print' and got up from his desk, snagging the reports in the process. Strong Bad knew. He could view it as an unfortunate mishap ... or he could see it as step one to plan A. He sighed, annoyed. All he really knew now was that that much interaction with Strong Bad at one time left him an aroused, disorientated mess and he needed to scratch that itch asap. Hopefully once he relented to the dream-Strong Bad's wishes, he'd relinquish the choke hold on his sex drive and turn the knob down from 'horny all the goddamn time' to just 'regular guy' status.
He slipped his reports in a folder and grabbed his bag. Pom Pom kept telling him to take a few days off, and considering that all he wanted to do was crawl in a hole and die, today seemed the best day to start.
If only it was that easy. As it turned out, leaving work (and by extension, Strong Bad's presence) caused more problems than it solved. Maybe it was the excess interaction with Strong Bad that day, or the frustrating acknowledgement and rejection of his feelings that left him in a broken mental state. Whatever it was, something had given way upstairs. He was walking home when it happened.
"You're just gonna walk away? After all that, you want to just hide in your house while he's going after your ex? Seriously?"
The voice was Strong Bad's, but it carried a tone that Homestar had come to recognize over the past several days as belonging to his mental representation of him. The problem was, he was awake to the best of his knowledge. Falling asleep while walking home from work was kind of hard to do.
Homestar whipped around, looking for the source. After not finding one, he pinched his arm to check and see if he was awake. Yes, he was. "...what are you doing out while I'm awake?" he demanded, jabbing the side of his head. "Not cool. Being awake is the only time I have away from you!"
"Clearly you need my assistance on a more immediate basis," the voice replied. "You haven't gotten anywhere with me sticking to the night shift."
He groaned. "I don't want to get anywhere besides home."
"You know what I mean. What happened to Plan A, huh? Come on, man. Start putting those rusty gears in here to work and come up with a game plan, or I'm gonna make you wish you were sleeping."
He narrowed his eyes. "My gears are not rusty. What do you want me to do? I can't just start hitting on Strong Bad. I can't even talk to the guy because for some reason-" He jabbed his head with each syllable. "- everytime I do I get so turned on I can't even think straight."
"Then maybe you should stop avoiding him, duh. If you'd just stop fighting it all the time you won't have those problems," the voice explained, slightly annoyed. "Look, you still have some games you borrowed from him. Bring one back. It'll earn you some points and it's a good excuse to go see him. As for the rest, I'm sure you'll think of something. You're not as dumb and hopeless as you think. I mean, you came up with me, right?" the voice snickered.
"I don't wanna see him," he snapped. "I'm running away and hiding at my house because I don't wanna see him."
"You didn't mind seeing him before. As I recall, you even blew off Marzipan a few times to hang out with him," the voice pointed out.
Homestar mulled that over bitterly. "Well, that's because I thought he was cool."
"Or maybe you just always secretly had a thing for him," the voice teased. "He seems to think that's the case."
"Well, I didn't," he growled. It was hard talking to someone in your head. He realized how crazy he looked after a guy passing by him gave him a weird stare.
He pouted angrily and took out his cellphone. The least he could do is pretend this was a phonecall. "Look, I'll admit it. I'm crushing pretty hard on him but I can't go over there. He KNOWS. I can't face him."
"Dude, he just got the hardest part of the plan out of the way for you. You don't have to admit that you like him anymore because he already knows! And best of all, he didn't even punch you in the face for it. He just came over to pick on you and gloat over the fact that you couldn't keep your mind off him. That means there's a chance, man."
Homestar blinked at that. Strong Bad didn't beat the snot out of him, after all. That meant he was at least willing to accept the situation.
He frowned. "But..." He was running out of arguments. "Okay, fine. I'll take the stupid game over tonight. But you need to do something for me," he insisted. "You need to keep my head on straight. None of this stammering and blushing crap. It's embarrassing enough as it is, I don't need to go into total 'school girl' mode around him."
"Okay okay... I'll see what I can do. But to be fair, you are a total dork. I can't do much to change that fact," the voice snorted.
He huffed and shut his phone. This was ... it was going to be hard.
A few hours later, Homestar stood at the base of Strong Bad's front step, game in hand. He couldn't bring himself to move from where he was. All he'd have to do was ring the bell, and give the game to Strong Bad. Maybe say hi. Maybe start up a conversation. Maybe talk about that afternoon. He blushed and shook his head. Well, no. Talking about that was out of the question. But what if Strong Bad brought it up?
He turned around and walked a few feet before sighing angrily and going right back to his previous perch. How hard could this be? 'Hey Strong Bad, just dropping of Alien Head Squishers 2, oh that's a nice pair of pants, mind if I rip them off and go down on y-'
His face went beet red and he turned around, dashing all the way to the curb before he relented and went back to the front step again.
"I can't do this."
"Yes you can." That persistent voice had returned. "Here, I'll make it easier for you. Look, Strong Bad's right behind you!" When Homestar jumped and turned, he stumbled and was forced to throw out a hand to catch himself. His hand landed right on the doorbell, and the voice laughed, fading away.
"You are such a jerk," Homestar hissed loudly. "When I get up there I'm gonn-"
"Homestar?" Strong Sad interrupted his ranting. "What are you doing here?"
He relaxed a bit. Strong Sad. Strong Sad he could handle. "Oh, uh, hi. I'm here to return ..." He looked at the box. "Alien Head Squishers 2. To Strong Bad. Is he home?"
"Yeah, he's in the basement," Strong Sad replied, thumbing over his shoulder. "I'll warn you though, he's watching his soaps. I can take it for him if you want."
Homestar hesitated. "No, I should ... I need to talk to him. Thanks," he grinned weakly. He desperately wanted to take that escape, but god knows the Strong Bad in his head would have made him regret it. He pushed past him and headed down the steps, stopping around the halfway point to peak at Strong Bad.
Strong Bad appeared engrossed in his soaps, periodically yelling at the screen at someone named Raymundo. He smiled and let out a sigh. He was enthusiastic about it. It was adorable. He cleared his throat to announce his presence when he made it to the foot of the steps.
Strong Bad didn't even look up. "Whaddya want, I'm busy." He grabbed the channel changer and turned up the volume on the TV a few notches. He wasn't going to let Homestar make him miss any of this episode. Raymundo just admitted to cheating on his best friend's sister. He could already tell this was going to be a good episode.
Homestar gripped the game nervously. Well, so far so good. "Uh. Just bringing back your game." He waited for a response, but nothing came. The silence was too awkward to bear. "So, I was hoping to borrow another one. Like this one. If that's okay."
"Yeah, sure, just bring it back when you're done," he replied distractedly. "Augh, no freakin' way! She was totally into you! Get back in there!" He leaned forward, perched on the edge of the couch and looking like he was liable to throw the remote at the TV at any moment. The chips in the old plastic were a reminder that it tended to happen a lot.
Homestar glanced at the screen curiously. Raymundo (or at least, who Homestar assumed was Raymundo) had taken to sulking in his room, too overcome with inner conflict to admit his feelings for the leading lady.
He snorted. That hit a little closer to home than he would've liked. He tapped his fingers on the game's box, quiet for a moment. He eventually found the courage to take a step forward- a small one, but it was a start. By the time the commercials came on he'd taken a seat on the opposite end of the couch, squished into the corner. He kept his eyes focused on the game in his hand. It was obvious Strong Bad wasn't exactly paying him any attention.
Strong Bad growled at the TV when the commercials dared to interrupt his viewing experience, only then glancing away from it. He read the box in Homestar's grasp.
"Well if you want another game they're in my room. You're gonna have to wait, I got like fifteen minutes left for Raymundo to get his crap together and stop being such an idiot. And if you even think about interrupting it, I will punch your teeth in."
For once he didn't jump at his voice. He was too tense to really move, much less jump. He went red and averted his eyes. "Uh huh. Th-that's fine. Finish your ... your thingie." He motioned towards the tv with a wave of his hand. "I can wait."
"It is not a 'thingie.' It is a daytime drama," Strong Bad corrected. "And it happens to be the second half of a two-parter. Hence the importance of not missi- shutupit'sbackon." He leaned forward again, snapping back to attention.
Homestar was quiet for a long time, watching Strong Bad at first and then switching his attention to the show.
"But I can't love Miranda, she's my ... my sister-in-law!" Raymundo slammed his desk dramatically. "But I do! I mustn't tell her. She mustn't know how she consumes my dreams."
Too late, Homestar thought bitterly, raising an eyebrow. Lucky bastard still had his dirty little secret under wraps.
"Raymundo?" a girl questioned, entering his room. Homestar realized, thanks to Raymundo's awkward, over-acted body language, that she must be Miranda. "Raymundo, you must rejoin us at the party! Whatever is wrong?"
Homestar gave Strong Bad a weird look. How can he watch this crap?
The look went unnoticed. Whatever the reason was, it must've been a pretty good one to him considering how engulfed he was in the storyline.
"Ohh, if you don't tell her right now..." Strong Bad muttered, not finishing his threat.
"Miranda, I have something to tell you," Raymundo declared.
"What is it?" Miranda inquired. The show must have been really low budget, because at that point a bit of a boom mic dipped down from the top of the screen.
"I love you, Miranda," Raymundo got on his knees. "I can't keep it a secret any longer, or it might end me."
Strong Bad snorted. "Finally. It took you long enough."
"But Raymundo!" the girl gasped overdramatically. "What about Leo?"
"Forget him! Let us run away together."
Miranda looked away. "Oh, Raymundo... I cannot. I'm..." she held her arm over her forehead, looking away. "I'm pregnant."
Strong Bad blinked as 'to be continued' flashed on the screen. A second later the remote went hurtling at the TV, hitting the power button with somewhat impressive accuracy. "WHAT. THE. CRAP."
Homestar yelped at the sudden action. "GAH!" He gripped the box and tensed up, staring at Strong Bad. "Overreacting much?"
"NO." Strong Bad motioned at the screen. "Pregnant? Pregnant? I mean, really? They have been building up to this point all freakin' season, and she's gotta go get herself knocked up? Who writes this crap? Who made this thing a three parter? They need to be fired!"
He tensed up and scooted back a bit. "Uh ... huh. Cliffhangers get people's attention, though...?" he guessed. "You'll watch it next time, right? Then they did their job."
"No, if they did their job, Raymundo woulda got the girl in this episode," Strong Bad huffed. "And said girl wouldn't be pregnant, either. Stupid women getting pregnant all the time. They're ruining the plot."
He tapped his fingers on the box, quiet for a few seconds. "So, wh-what should he ... have done, then?" he asked.
"Where do I start," Strong Bad snorted. "He should have worked on convincing her that she was going after the wrong guy, for one. Coulda worn some expensive aftershave, got himself some tight pants, and shown her what she's missing out on. And presents couldn't hurt. But no, he's gotta go all total moron and blurt it out."
Homestar blinked a few times, glancing down at his legs. Tight pants? Well, that was a check. Presents? Not quite, but definitely better than being empty handed. No aftershave, but there was the body spray he sometimes wore if he skipped his morning shower...
He raised an eyebrow. "He should, huh?" he asked calmly. He gripped the box in his hand, quiet for what seemed like forever. He was half certain that Strong Bad was still ranting about Raymundo's idiocy when he interrupted him.
"I think it's a mistake that you're going after Marzipan," he blurted, voice cracking slightly. Dream Strong Bad would be so proud... after he was done molesting him, of course.
"Huh?" Strong Bad took a second to grasp the abrupt change in topic. "I'm- wait, what- no. Of course you'd say that, she used to be your girlfriend." He cleared his throat. "But I'll have you know, I think we've got... like, some kind of vibe going. I will have a definite chance with her once she stops saying no to me."
"She's not gonna stop saying no," he insisted. "Ever. She hates you, she's always hated you! She's always gonna say no. Find someone..." He felt his face go hot. "S...someone who'll say ...yes." What the hell was that? Why couldn't words stay in his head for at least a second before he spewed them up? His face went even redder. Why do I have to be such a dork around him?
"She doesn't ha-" he paused, then glared at Homestar. There was a lot of evidence that supported that claim, but he also didn't know about the whole love potion thing... that was hopefully starting to work sometime soon. "Er... hate is a strong word. And anyway, you don't know anything. Everybody knows that the ones who say 'yes' right away are always the worst at making out and/or have a serious hygiene problem."
Homestar looked insulted. "I do not have a hygiene problem!"
"I didn't say you did, I was talking about people I'd ask out, not you," Strong Bad snorted.
He winced. Ow. "I'd say yes," he muttered, looking away.
"That's... nice," Strong Bad said flatly. "Homestar, what part of 'I'm not gay' do you not understand."
"Well, neither am I," he huffed. He still refused to look at him. "It's just a waste of time to go after Marzipan. She doesn't even like you as a friend. I do, a lot, an...and..." He appeared to be losing his nerve. He tensed up and shook his head. "I... w-well, I was thinking m-maybe you a-and I c...could..." He shrunk into the corner of the couch, utterly humiliated. Why was this a good idea again?
Strong Bad slapped his forehead. There was so much wrong with this conversation, he didn't know where to start. "No. I told you, I'm not interested in men, okay? You fall in that category, in case you've forgotten again. And I am least of all interested in guys who follow me around everywhere and apparently have kinky dreams about me. No."
Homestar's shoulders slumped. Well, of course he wasn't into guys. That's not exactly news, what with the way he was hounding after Marzipan. He sighed sadly. "R-right," he muttered, getting to his feet. He dropped the game on the couch where he had been sitting. "F-figured it was worth a try. Right. Yes. I'm gonna go ... home." He thumbed up the steps. "Now. Because. Yes. You got your game and I can ... go. Because that's why I came over."
He cleared his throat and hurried up the stairs, hesitating halfway up. "F-for the record? I'm not interested in men either. J-just you. Only you." He ducked his head into his chest and ran up the steps, terrified that there'd be a response to that.
There wasn't- just a very weirded-out stare, but Homestar was long gone to even notice it. Strong Bad sank back against the couch. "Why me? Augh... " He got up briefly to retrieve his remote from the floor and turned the TV back on. He flipped to Wheel of Fortune, hoping to drown out the awkwardness that had just transpired with Vanna White and her vowels.
Homestar rushed past Strong Sad and out the door without so much as a goodbye.
He walked home, tense and miserable. Halfway there he narrowed his eyes. "That was the worst thing you've made me do yet."
"So pessimistic," his head voice replied. "Don't worry, man. So you lost one battle. Let's not give up the entire war just yet. We've learned some very useful information from this."
"We learned that Strong Bad's never ever gonna want me and that this a stupid waste of time," he snapped. "He's straight as an arrow. I don't stand a chance."
"Whoa whoa, not a waste of time. Remember what he said? You gotta convince him. But of course, you didn't listen... just had to blurt it right out." Homestar could almost picture the imaginary dream-Strong Bad rolling his eyes. "Lucky for you, I got an idea."
"I already hate it," he huffed. "Fine, tell me."
"Well, first of all... you're gonna need to go shopping." The voice paused. "For a dress."
Homestar stopped in his tracks, paling. "...NO. I VETO THIS PLAN."
"You can't. It's a sacrifice you're gonna have to make if you want to get to Strong Bad."
"I can't have him thinking I'm a fag AND a crossdresser," he snapped, fists clenched. "Nuh-uh, no way."
"The only way he'll even give you a chance is if you're a girl, dude... so you're gonna have to make it look that way. And once you make him fall for you, you can drop the disguise. It's totally a foolproof plan."
"Except for the part where Strong Bad totally kills me and buries my remains in his backyard," he said flatly.
"Oh relax, jeez. You're being overdramatic enough to apply for an acting job on that soap opera," the voice snickered. "He hasn't killed you yet, and he knows that you're having kinky dreams about him. AND you even asked him out. I think you're safe." The voice paused. "Mostly. Anyway, it's not gonna matter because this plan will totally work."
"Just like your last plan totally worked?" he asked, raising an annoyed eyebrow. "I'm not doing it so it doesn't matter. This plan is ridiculous. I couldn't pass for a girl even if I tried."
"I can demonstrate how wrong that assumption is tonight, if you like," his head voice teased.
"I'm not doing this."
"Great. I've got something really fun planned for later, then..." the voice chuckled. "That whole girl disguise thing has given me the best ideas ever."
Homestar's shoulders slumped and he sighed angrily. "Anything you do to me up there can't be half as bad as what Strong Bad would do to me out here," he muttered.
Later that night he was singing a much ... different tune. His wrists bound above his head and the world's shortest skirt imaginable were quickly changing his mind. "Fine," he blurted, squirming half out of just how uncomfortable he felt and half out of how risqué he was dressed. He was pretty sure he had a super cheesy porno with this exact outfit in it, but on a skinny blonde girl with big boobs and pigtails. "I give, I give. W-w-we'll do it your way, okay?"
The Strong Bad-that-wasn't grinned. "You see? You have nothing to worry about... you look pretty fricken hot in a skirt, if I do say so..." He chuckled, waving a hand. The bindings disappeared, but the revealing outfit remained unaltered.
Homestar rubbed his wrist, face still burning. "Uh huh. Of course I pass for a girl in t-this ..." he wiggled his fingers, looking for the word. "I ... I guess it's a dream? Sort of. You alter reality however you want. Yo...you probably narrowed my shoulders or something," he muttered, glancing in the mirror Strong Bad had placed in the center of the room.
"I did nothing of the sort," Strong Bad snorted. "That would have defeated the whole purpose. I mean, if I wanted you to look super accurate, trust me..." he motioned over his shoulder and the mirror's reflection changed to show a busty, skinny girl sitting where Homestar had been a second earlier. "I could manage."
He glared at him, arms crossed over his chest. "You're a riot," he muttered. "But I can't go out into the real world looking like this," he snapped, motioning to himself. "I'd get arrested. Fast. And I can't wear a skirt."
"But you look good in skirts," Strong Bad smirked. "Not a lot of guys can pull that off. You got a point, though." He tilted his head in thought and Homestar's outfit changed again. "Something a little more classy..."
He looked himself over, annoyed. Tight jeans and a flowy little blouse thing. "Now I just look gay." He tapped his chin. "If I gotta wear it, I should get a say."
"Fine. Just remember, it's gotta be convincing," Strong Bad sighed. He walked over to Homestar's closet, as they were still in his bedroom. It just kept getting altered for dream purposes. He pulled open the door and a pile of clothes fell out. "Go nuts. You got a bit before you're due to wake up. That's pretty much everything you've ever seen a girl wear." He then flopped onto the bed beside Homestar and propped himself up on his elbows. "I'll be over here makin' sure you don't make any poor fashion choices," he grinned.
"You are such a pervert," Homestar hissed. There wasn't much he could do about it, though. After 45 minutes, it became clear to Homestar that jeans didn't fall under the 'convincing' category.
He sighed, seeming to settle on a sweater vest, blouse and knee-high skirt combo. He examined himself in the mirror, face beet red. "I don't really look like that do I...?" Even he had to admit, in the right skirt he actually looked like he had hips.
Strong Bad got up off the bed to stand beside him, arms folded over his chest as he inspected the outfit both in the reflection and in person. He whistled. "Not bad at all. And yes, you do." He smirked at him through the mirror and slapped him on the rear. "But you'll see for yourself soon enough, cupcake."
At that, Homestar woke up.
He jerked upright, blushing furiously. Then he narrowed his eyes. "You're totally gonna go away once I get Strong Bad to like me, right?" When he didn't receive a response, he sighed and got up for the day.
After two bus trips and some intense searching, Homestar found a shop that catered to guys who were very much into women's clothing. He tried normal girls' clothes, but there were some seams that just didn't sit right on his chest.
After being hit on and fawned over by every guy who worked there, he examined himself in the mirror. He pouted, turning around. "Seriously?" he muttered, pulling at the skirt. Who knew he'd make such a convincing female? The not-Strong Bad wasn't exaggerating, apparently. "...but I still look like me," he muttered, pointing to his face. "Anyone who knows me isn't gonna buy it."
"That's what makeup is for," Strong Bad's voice replied. "And maybe do something with your hair. You have hat hair so bad it's not funny. Well, actually it is pretty funny."
Homestar mussed with his hair. "And my voice?"
"Get more practice on those high notes," he snickered. "Chances are, the real me is gonna be too busy lookin' at those hips and legs to pick apart your disguise. Maybe throw a little different accent on it so it's less like you... you'll be fine."
He raised an annoyed eyebrow. "You're like the fairy godmother from hell, you know that, right?"
"At least I'm not forcing a midnight curfew on ya," the voice replied smugly. "And you realize because I'm in your head, you just called yourself a fairy by extension. Kinda fitting..."
Homestar let out an annoyed grunt. "Oh, shut up."
After a weekend of practicing girlish movements and an altered voice around the house, the day came when Homestar felt he was ... maybe not 'ready' to try, but definitely too fed up with the awkwardly hot dreams where Strong Bad was his teacher and he was an innocent, doe eyed school 'girl'.
He stood outside the Strong household, gripping a clipboard in his arms. "You can do this," he muttered, closing his faux blue eyes- contacts were a must after he realized his dark, almost black eyes would give him away. He frequently got comments on how bizarre they were. He knocked timidly on the door. Maybe no one's home, maybe I can just run off and try again tomorrow.
No such luck. Strong Bad's muffled voice shouted something before the door was yanked open by Strong Bad himself. He looked a bit frazzled, having been in the middle of an argument with Strong Sad, but his air of crankiness melted away as he blinked at the 'girl' on his doorstep. A grin spread across his face. "Well hi there. What can I do for you?"
Homestar tensed up but tried to shake it off. Play it cool.
"U-uh-" he cleared his throat. Gotta be more ladylike than that. "My name's Hayley Walker and I'm collecting signatures. I'm petitioning the sound regulations at my school's dorm ..." He squrimed awkwardly before handing him the clipboard. "If you'd like to sign it would be really. Um. Appreciated."
"Would I ever," Strong Bad replied, snatching the clipboard. Quick, time to say something to break the ice. "So uh... have I seen you somewhere? You look kinda hot- I mean familiar."
Homestar bit on a freshly painted nail in an attempt not to break out into a grin. Hot? Him? Maybe this was a good plan afterall. "M-me? Um, nope, I don't think so."
"Huh, weird. You're givin' me major deja vu." He looked down at the clipboard. No pen. "Uh- you got something to write with...?" He cleared his throat and added quickly, "Coz if you don't you can totally come inside while I find a pen."
He blinked. He did, in fact, have something to write with, but that was quite an opportunity. "Oh! I guess the uh. Last house stole mine," he said, faking a sheepish giggle. "My bad. We can pop in for one, sure."
"Pop right on in then," Strong Bad said, holding the door for 'her'. Damn, she has nice legs. Bet she's really athletic... Sure, there wasn't much to speak of up top, but this was the first time in a very long time he'd convinced any sort of moderately hot girl to actually set foot in his house. "Can I get ya anything to drink after all that petitioning?"
"No thank you," he said, grinning to himself. This was going strangely well. He reached into his purse (buying that was... awkward) and pulled out a bottle of Strong Bad's favorite non-beer beverage, Mountain Dew- knowing the dude for six or so years really helped him perfect Hayley into an ideal girl for Strong Bad. Of course, keeping a lot of himself was important, too. Can't have Strong Bad falling in love with 'Hayley' and not 'Homestar as Hayley', now can he? "I'm good."
Strong Bad blinked. "Oh. Wow, you've got looks and good taste." Time to test the safety of this situation. "Your, uh... boyfriend's a lucky guy."
Homestar almost giggled for real, but coughed to hide it. "Oh, well, I'm not ... I don't have one."
"Seriously?" Holy crap, this was his lucky day. Don't act desperate. "Well hey, you know... if you're ever like, in the neighborhood wanting to go make- I mean hang out sometime, we should- we should totally do that. If you want. And if I'm not... busy doing other stuff like maybe my job or saving puppies from burning buildings."
He blinked in surprise. "Are you asking me out?" he squeaked, sounding a little more hopeful than he wanted. A skirt and some makeup and now Strong Bad was all over him? This plan just got upgraded from 'passable' to 'freakin' awesome'.
"Yes. Maybe. Yeah, I am," Strong Bad replied. "You wanna go out with me?" That didn't come out quite as smoothly as he'd have liked. Oh hell, who cared. This chick was totally into him.
"Yes!" he blurted. He blushed and looked away awkwardly. "I mean, yes. Yes, that's cool. Yes." He fiddled with his hair, biting his lip to keep from giggling. "Is tonight like ... okay?"
"Tonight? Yeah, tonight is fine. Totally fine. Dinner and a movie?" Strong Bad suggested. The logical part of his brain could catch up later and try to tell him this was too good to be true. Right now, he was still taking it all in. He was only half certain this all wasn't just a really, really awesome dream and he had fallen asleep in front of the TV again.
"Mmhmm. S-sounds great," he giggled, putting his arms behind his back shyly. He was quietly hoping that, for once, this wasn't dream. "I'll meet you here at 7?"
"You got it!" Strong Bad grinned, then paused and snapped his fingers. "Oh, crap! A pen-" he pointed up the stairs. "Pen's upstairs. Totally forgot. I'll uh be right back. Don't go anywhere."
"I won't," he promised, watching him go. He leaned against the wall and let out a dreamy sigh. "He asked me out~" he sighed, running a hand through his hair. Get a grip, you dork.
Strong Bad bolted up the stairs and started tearing up his room in search of a writing instrument. The noise prompted Strong Sad to peer out of his room toward the end of the hall. "What are you doing?" he asked as Strong Bad reappeared, pen gripped in one hand.
He shoved his little brother back into his room as he passed, "Stay put, El Dumpo, you'll scare away my date."
"Date?" Strong Sad said incredulously. His brother was already gone, skipping the last two steps on the stairs in his hurry.
Yep, Hayley was still there. "I got it. We're good." He held up the pen.
'Hayley' straightened up, still overly giddy. Sure, he wasn't looking forward to the Strong Bad in his mind rubbing it in his face, but Strong Bad had just asked him out, was flirting with him, was eyeing him up... He sighed again, briefly wondering how slutty making out with someone on a first date would be. Probably pretty slutty.
...Whatever, he was hoping for it. He took back his petition once Strong Bad signed it. "Strong Bad, huh," he mused, faking surprise. "I like it. Suits you."
"I know," Strong Bad agreed smugly. "But thanks for noticing. Yours isn't bad either. It's like the comet. Very... celestial."
"Heh," he laughed nervously. "I-i'm not like ... super attached to it. Or anything." He cleared his throat. "It's okay. Sooo, I'll see you tonight, then."
"Yeah. Don't stand me up or anything," Strong Bad laughed weakly. "Er, not that that ever happens to me." He coughed. "Kidding. I'm kidding. Anyway, you gotta go... finish your petitioning. Good luck with that."
"Thanks," he mused. Man, Strong Bad was a terrible flirt, but it was so bad it was almost ... charming. He opened the front door and tapped the toe of his shoe on the ground, biting his lip, Oh, what the hell. He turned back around and gave Strong Bad a quick peck on the cheek. "See ya tonight."
And with that, he sauntered out the door, heading down the street to 'petition' some more.
Strong Bad put a hand to his cheek and watched 'her' walk away, his face burning. "S-seeya." It was a minute before he closed the door, but as soon as he did he punched the air enthusiastically. "HELL YES, I'M AWESOME. Strong Sad, you and your flunky potion can eat it because clearly I do not need that thing." He paused looking around for a clock. "Frick, I should get ready." Nevermind that he had no idea what time it was.
His brother had come down to peek at Strong Bad's mystery date. He glanced out the window- the girl halfway up the street was probably her, and she appeared to be ... talking to herself very excitedly. "Uh huh," he muttered, raising an eyebrow. Going out with random girls who showed up at your house didn't seem like a smart idea, but Strong Bad was always a little on the desperate side. And if it got his mind of the love potion's apparent failure, who was he to complain? "What was she doing here?"
"Eh? Oh, collecting... signatures for something or other," Strong Bad replied distractedly. "She likes Mountain Dew. It's like we're on the same wavelength. Tonight's gonna be awesome."
Strong Sad shrugged and pulled away from the window. "She's kinda tall, isn't she? And she walks like a boy."
Strong Bad glared at him. "Quit being so shallow, man. We've got chemistry goin' on." He huffed and folded his arms over his chest. "Besides, she's got nice legs."
Strong Sad rolled his eyes. "And you call me shallow."
"The point is she asked me out. I don't see you with any dates for tonight, so... there." Strong Bad snorted.
"No, have fun. And when she tries to convert you and make you join the creepy cult she's probably a part of, you can borrow my DnD cloak," he muttered sarcastically. "I just think it's weird to go out with someone who came to your door out of the blue. You don't even know her. And what about Marzipan?"
Strong Bad hesitated. "Well, this is like... motivation. If she wants me, she's gonna have to deal with a little competition." Strong Bad smirked. "I can't help it that the lady-types are lining up for me. I like to think of it as the 'one bird on your doorstep is worth two stubborn ones refusing to go out with you yet' philosophy."
Strong Sad rolled his eyes again. "Whatever. Have fun. Hope she's not a total psychopath. You just gotta be careful. First impressions can be misleading."
'Misleading' was a nice way to put it. Homestar closed his door behind him and leaned against it, sliding down to the floor, a blushing, giggly mess. "Oh my god. I can't believe it worked."
"I told you it would," the voice in his head remarked smugly. "See? You should listen to me more often. You make a totally convincing chick."
Homestar was too giddy to take insult. He sighed dreamily. "I have a date with Strong Bad," he giggled, burying his face in his hands. "A date. Me. With him. Tonight." He blinked, frowning. "But what if he doesn't like me? He didn't like me when I was me. What if he doesn't like me as a chick?"
"Oh, come on, what's not to like? You just gotta show him what he's been missing out on for not giving you a chance." The voice paused. "And you know, if you wear a short enough skirt he'll probably be way more willing to overlook the fact that you're a dork," it chuckled. "He seems pretty fond of your legs already."
He pouted angrily. "Believe it or not this experience isn't turning me into a crossdresser. I want him to like me, not my legs."
"That's a shame. You can really rock a skirt." The voice sighed. "But if you have to spoil all the girly fun, well... be yourself. As much as possible, anyway. Annnd you're gonna need more outfits soon, so I'd keep that skirt thing in mind, just in case. You aren't gonna win him over in one date."
He blinked at that. "...MORE OUTFITS?" he asked, paling. "... well you coulda mentioned that before I left the store."
"Eh, it didn't cross my mind."
He slammed his head against the door. "Augh, I don't wanna go back. Those guys kept hitting on me."
"That's because you're cute," the voice chuckled. "Tell them you're already spoken for. You got a boyfriend now, you can do that."
Homestar felt his face go hot. "H-h-he's not my boyfriend, though."
"Uh, you guys are going on a date. Close enough in my book."
"One date doesn't make him my boyfriend," he insisted. He smiled to himself and fiddled with the edge of his skirt. "Not ... yet, anyway."
"Uh huh. You really are such a dork," the voice mused. "But at least you're a confident one. Keep up that attitude and you'll be fine tonight."
Homestar sighed and clutched his hands to his chest, a goofy grin on his face. "My boyfriend, Strong Bad," he giggled, testing it out. "I like the sound of that."