Prototype 0.4
A collaborative fanfiction by Jenny (chakramchucker) and Mu (badpirate)
Strong Bad's glare migrated to Homestar. "Do you have to be such a nerd? What is with the singsong crap?"
Homestar pouted and folded his arms over his chest. "I'm not a nerd. I was just saying goodbye."
"You sang your goodbye," he corrected.
"Yeah, so? I was being cheerful. Anyway, singing is fun," Homestar countered. "And I'm pretty good at it, so there."
He rolled his eyes. "You're good at everything, that so doesn't count."
"I'm not good at swimming."
"That's only because you can't or you'll like ... I don't even know. Everything you can do you're amazing at. You're a better typist than I am, you're faster than I am, you're a great kisser, you're awesome at video games..." he sighed angrily. "Everything everyone else has to work for you had handed to you."
Homestar fell silent for a few seconds, recalling the conversation he'd had with Strong Sad the day before. Apparently the mopey guy had a point. "Well, but- you did beat me a couple times last night. So I don't win all the time. Anyway, I'd be glad to help you get better at any of those things if you wanted."
"You let me win."
"I- no. No I didn't." He bit his lip. "I might've evened it out a bit..."
"I'm not stupid. I can tell when people are holding back," he sighed, glancing at him. "If I'm going to win against you, I want to really win. I'd rather you didn't 'even it out' or whatever."
Homestar rubbed the back of his neck. "Heh, sorry. I just don't want you to stop playing against me. It's not fun by myself. The games can't beat me either but at least you're good company. Those consoles have no sense of humor," he frowned.
"You know, there are other people in the world. You don't always have to bug me," he pointed out.
"Yeah, I guess... but you're the most fun so I think I'll stick with you," Homestar concluded. "Besides, you know my secret," he smirked.
"Augh. That is so not a burden I wanna carry, you know," he huffed. "You should make other friends. Only having one is ... it's weird. And suspicious. People are going to start talking."
"Psh, I have tons of friends, what're you talkin' about?" Homestar snorted. "I have um... Marzipan, and Pom Pom... and you... and that guy I say hi to at work..." He shrugged, figuring that was enough to prove his point. "I don't wanna tell them I'm a robot though. They might get scared of me or try to make me do all their work for them. I just wanna be a regular guy."
Strong Bad felt a very small, almost negligible twinge of guilt. "Hahah yeah. Th-they might. Marzipan probably wouldn't, but I still wouldn't ... advertise that. Besides, it's not like anyone'll believe you."
"You did. I had to lift you up to prove it but after that you believed me," he pointed out.
"I was already half-convinced anyway," he reminded him. "I was a working theory for a little bit before I actually asked you. That's... sort of why I called you to hang out."
Homestar was visibly disappointed. "Ah. That makes sense. You never invite me over... unless you're about to pull a prank on me." He appeared to cheer up and added, "But today you already know I'm a robot, so we're hanging out for real. Cool."
He grinned and put his arm around Strong Bad's shoulder.
Strong Bad shoved it away. "Okay, that? That's not okay."
Homestar frowned, holding the rejected arm sheepishly to his side. "Why not?"
"That's not something friends do," he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "That's something boyfriends do."
"Who knew there were so many friggen rules," Homestar muttered. He briefly considered mentioning that he was pretty sure boyfriends kissed, too, but he didn't want to risk giving Strong Bad a reason to stop making out with him so he let it go.
"I do. So just ... double-check with me if you have any doubts, okay?" he said, pushing the door open to Marshmallow's Last Stand. He sighed. "Yeah I know I said McDonald's. But you seem to like this stupid place so whatever."
"Can do." Homestar eagerly took a seat at the same booth they'd chosen the day before. Their waitress showed up a moment later and set them up with silverware bundles and menus.
"Back already, eh?" The girl smiled. "Can I get you some drinks to start out with?"
"Mountain Dew," Homestar replied automatically.
"That much Mountain Dew can't be good for you," he sighed and pawed through the menu. "Jack and coke. Light on that ...coke part."
"Sure thing. I'll just need to see some ID," She held out her hand.
Homestar raised his eyebrow at him. "Kinda early to be drinking already."
"It's happy hour somewhere," he chuckled, pulling out his wallet. He flipped through it and held the ID out. "Here ya go."
She squinted at the card briefly. "Thanks... Bellamy. I'll be right back with your drinks, guys." With that, she swept away and left Homestar staring in her wake.
"She got your name wrong," he snorted.
Strong Bad reddened underneath his mask as he put his ID away. "Sadly, she didn't."
Homestar turned his gaze back to him and blinked. "You mean Strong Bad isn't your real name?"
"...why the hell would Strong Bad be my real name?"
"Um, because Bellamy's not a real name. And everyone calls you Strong Bad," Homestar replied.
"People call me Strong Bad because I told them to call me Strong Bad. Bellamy is a real name, it's just the worst name in the history of mankind." He sighed dejectedly. "So not fair. My dad wanted to name me Bartholomew, but nooo. Mom wanted me to be Bellamy, after my grandmother."
He gagged. "Not that Bartholomew's like ... way better but at least it's not a girl's name."
"Yeah, really. It does sound pretty girly," Homestar admitted. "But it suits you better than Barthomal... um, Bart. And it's easier to say," he frowned. "I'm glad I don't have two names, that must be confusing."
"It doesn't suit me. At all," he snapped. "It's awful and I hate it."
"Oh I dunno, you're quirky and you got like, a girly face so it does kind... of suit..." he trailed off at the look he got from Strong Bad. "It... well, it's not perfect." He cleared his throat and glanced away. "Oh hey look, our drinks are here."
Strong Bad suppressed a growl. "You're lucky there's a witness here, bucko," he muttered, taking his drink. The waitress chuckled.
"We ready to order boys?" Strong Bad nodded. "Chicken fingers, I guess. Or ... I dunno, what are you getting?"
Homestar glanced down at his menu. He hadn't even opened it yet. "I think I'll get the belgian waffles," he decided, pushing the menu to the end of the table. He almost always ordered breakfast foods due to their high sugar content. Plus he got access to syrup that way.
"Augh," Strong Bad gagged. "Yes, Chicken fingers. I can only handle so much sugar at one time."
"Okay. So, belgian waffles and chicken fingers," she read back. She tapped her chin with her pen. "Got it. I'll leave you two alone now."
Strong Bad glared at her as she left. "...we need to make sure we don't get her anymore."
"She's nice, though," Homestar observed, sipping his soda. "And she's never gotten my order wrong before."
"Yeah, real nice," he muttered, snorting. "She's probably laughing about my name in the back. Augh. I hate getting carded. Not to mention the way she said alone. Jesus why does everyone think we're on a date or something? Guys hang out. They do. That's not weird."
"I think you're being a little paranoid," Homestar chuckled, poking ice cubes around with his straw. "It's not like she saw us making out."
"Which makes it worse. At least if she did there'd be a logical reason. She's just assuming," he huffed. "...not that us making out means this is a date so yeah no."
Homestar rolled his eyes. "I know, you've told me like five times now. Or actually twice. Two times. But yeah, who cares what she thinks anyway. She's just some girl."
"I care what people think. What people think is very important to me, and it should be important to you, too. The way they treat you tells you what kind of person you are," Strong Bad scolded. "People treat you like a little kid because you're stupidly trusting and cheerful all the freakin' time. Doesn't that bother you? Don't you want to be taken seriously?"
Homestar stared down at his soda, resting his chin on his hand. "It never bothered me before." He frowned and pinned an ice cube to the bottom of his glass with his straw before looking up again. "I still think I'd rather be happy than worry about what people think of me all the time."
"I can't be happy if people think I'm immature or as lame as my name is," he sighed, stirring his drink. He was currently glaring at it. "...I'm ... I'm glad you like me, though. It's nice that you don't think I'm like ... super weird. I get a lot of looks because of my mask and the whole... no shirt thing. You never thought that was weird, though."
"It'd take a lot to weird me out," Homestar admitted. "Buuut you being hot without a shirt helps... even if you kinda need to work out more." He shrugged and sipped more soda.
Strong Bad blinked a few times. "...uh...th-thanks I guess. You should ... probably n-not mention that in public, though. The 'me being hot' thing. Or the having to work out thing, because that's no true anyway." He focused on his drink and not the blush that was creeping across his face. He couldn't think of a compliment to give him back.
"Just bein' honest," Homestar muttered, pushing his empty glass away. He paused to glare at the puddle of condensation it left behind, then grabbed a napkin and dropped it over the damp spot.
Strong Bad snickered. His little fear of water was kind of stupidly adorable, like a kitten afraid to get wet. "It's just a drop. You'll be fine." He shook his head.
The rest of the not-date went smoothly. Strong Bad ended up not needing money from the ATM, so Homestar didn't have to overload the machine. Strong Bad walked him halfway home, deciding it was probably best if he didn't get anywhere near Homeschool or his house. He went back to his house in a fairly good mood.
Strong Bad liked staying home and playing video games as much as the next guy, but it was nice to go out and have fun once in a while. He sighed, content. He hadn't been this happy since ...
Since he dated Marzipan. He stopped to think about what that meant but he shook his head, ridding himself of the possible answer. No, Strong Bad. Just no. Don't even go down that road.
In the mean time, Strong Sad hadn't ventured from his room since hearing the door close. He decided to give it some time, not wanting to go down there and walk in on anything unpleasant. Once he'd determined Strong Bad had come home alone, he cautiously braved the outer household to peer downstairs.
His brother was watching TV. That was normal enough. Perhaps gay aliens hadn't replaced him after all. But then, he'd always been a little... weird. Maybe he just swung that way. It's none of my business anyway, Strong Sad concluded. For all I know, it's just another plan to try to mess with me.
If it was, he was doing a damn good job of it.
With a sigh, he descended the stairs to raid the pantry. It was a good thing Strong Bad was eating out a lot, becaues their food supply was running a bit low. He retrieved the necessary supplies to make himself a peanut butter and banana sandwich- this consisted of their last jar of peanut butter- then started to go back upstairs. He paused and glanced back at his brother. His hesitant silence seemed to last forever.
"How'd it go?"
Strong Bad glanced at him. "How'd what go?"
"Your... " he faltered briefly. "-lunch with Homestar."
"There's no leftovers, if that's what you're wondering. And even if there was, they'd be mine."
"I don't care about the leftovers," Strong Sad said, rolling his eyes. "I meant... oh, nevermind. But now that you mention it, somebody needs to go to the grocery store soon. Maybe that should be the next place you guys go out to. I don't think you've been to the supermarket since you were ten."
Strong Bad blinked a few times. "Next time w...? No. Look, I know what it ... I know... it wasn't..." He found himself stammering. "We're not ... there's no 'going out'. We're hanging out. Hanging. Going is... no there's an implication there I don't like. Hanging. It's hanging. And you can do your own dang food shopping."
Strong Sad raised a pale eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "Whatever. I would buy my own food except I know you won't get yourself any and you'll start eating mine. Unless you plan to eat out all week. Honestly, I don't care what you two are doing as long as I don't have to walk in on anything else."
"What you walked in on wasn't anything," Strong Bad growled. "It... it was nothing. We're not doing anything."
"I'll try to keep telling myself that during the next few years' worth of therapy I'll be getting after this," Strong Sad muttered, turning to leave. "At least you know he's not an android now."
"He is too," Strong Bad grunted, annoyed.
"Uh huh. Androids don't have sex drives."
He furrowed his brow at that. Sex drive? No, even if androids did have any sort of sexual desires, Homestar was a little too innocent for that. Whose to say he wasn't built like a Ken doll down there, anyway? He somehow doubted that Homeschool would bother making Homestar anatomically correct.
Still, Homestar seemed to think he was hot, and he knew for a fact that he was an android. "...says you. Have you ever met one and asked?"
"No," Strong Sad sighed, annoyed. "And neither have you. They don't exist yet because our level of technology doesn't allow for it. Even if they did exist, you can't program something that complex into a machine. At best maybe they could make it mimic the... actions." He snorted. "That'll be quite an industry once they figure that one out."
"I'm telling you, he's an android!" Strong Bad flared. "And he's not just mimicking the actions, he's-"
He hesitated. He's what? It's not like there were real feelings behind those kisses, were there?
"...he takes initiative," he said, settling for that. Homestar's little crush was convincing, but it was still a program. "But fine, don't believe me. I know what he is."
"Hey, I want to believe. I just happen to've done my homework," Strong Sad replied. "Man, someone needs to warn him again about your imagination."
He glared at him. "Whatever, man. He's totally a robot. Homeschool's just years ahead of his time or something."
"That's really doubtful." Strong Sad resumed climbing the stairs, calling over his shoulder when he got to the top,"When you do go out tomorrow, try to pick up some eggs on the way home. You used them all up making cookies for your non-boyfriend."
Strong Bad almost snapped the remote in half before he dashed up the steps and threw it at Strong Sad with all his might. He missed, still fuming after the door shut.
He avoided Homestar for a day or so after that, annoyed at himself for getting weirdly attached to him and annoyed at Homestar for being weirdly easy to attach to. It didn't last long. Homestar would follow him on his lunch run, coffee breaks, and his playing Gameboy out back break. After a while, Strong Bad just cracked and invited him out again to have lunch and hit up an ATM ... and eventually makeout in the basement.
That last activity was getting higher and higher on Strong Bad's priority list as the month went on, which weirded him out on a number of levels. Since discovering Homestar's android-ness, he'd read up on the subject. Sci-fi stories and actual scientific journals... they were all around the house, thanks to Strong Sad. He found himself a little distraught after a short story about the dangers of falling in love with androids, how they couldn't truly love you back. It put him in a foul mood for a few reasons.
One, because it had a point. Robots couldn't love. Not really, anyway. They could be programmed to mimic it, for sure. Just as humans could fake it. And two...
Because he was seriously starting to like Homestar. It hit him like a tractor trailer truck one afternoon when Homestar didn't call his house right after getting home from work like he usually did. He sat by the phone anxiously, nails rapping on the table until it finally rang. But when he picked up he realized his heart was practically in his throat and he was stupidly happy to hear Homestar's idiotic excuse for why he hadn't called.
Now, two days since that rather upsetting realization, he was avoiding Homestar's call.
It wasn't a fool-proof plan against the fool in question, considering all Homestar had to do was cross the street once he realized no one was picking up. And naturally, that's exactly what he did.
Strong Sad was upstairs trying to study through all the ringing phones and now an unanswered door. Finally he got up and went out into the hall. "Are you going to get that?"
"No, I'm not. Just leave it," Strong Bad huffed, turning the volume up on the television.
"Ugh... at least tell him you're sick or something," Strong Sad complained over the noise before disappearing back into his room to get his iPod. Noise cancelling headphones were probably the best investment he'd ever made.
Strong Bad glared at the television as the doorbell rang again. Augh.
It didn't help that after a minute he'd stopped ringing repeatedly and just gave the meekest, saddest sounding knock on the door Strong Bad had ever heard. Dammit, how the heck did he manage to be stupidly charming even through a door? He sighed and got up to let him in. He couldn't avoid him, or the situation, forever.
Homestar had been about to leave- not to go home, but to try the back door instead. He was quite relieved to not have to go around back. Sometimes Strong Sad left the sprinkler running in the backyard.
He happily stepped inside despite how aggravated Strong Bad appeared as he did so. "Wow, did you fall asleep or what? Took you long enough."
"Sorry. Had the tv kinda loud," he lied. After a month of spending every minute of freetime with Homestar, he'd guessed that he could hear about three miles away if he focused on it. "What's up?"
He shrugged. "Not much. I was coming over to tell you something but I forgot what it was." His gaze strayed to the TV and he went over to turn it down more.
"I thought you didn't like watching NASCAR. You know, some guy down the street is selling a neat little racecar tin at a garage sale and I woulda grabbed it if I knew. By the way, where you wanna eat lunch today? I don't think we should go to Marshmallow's coz last time we went there it said the ATM was out of order and they might not've fixed it yet..." It was as if his flow of consciousness had somehow been backed up by the fact that Strong Bad hadn't opened the door earlier, and now that he was inside it was allowed to escape and catch up.
"Slow down," Strong Bad ordered, chuckling slightly. "I don't like NASCAR, I was just flipping through the channels. You really ... you shouldn't really be getting me presents anyway."
He rubbed his arms nervously. "Um, we can go there, if you want. I have money. Don't really ... I mean, I don't always need you to hit the ATM for me. We can just go ou... hang out."
"Sounds like a plan, Stan- and I know that's not your name, but it rhymes." He folded his arms behind his back and waited for Strong Bad to initiate their departure. After admittedly only a few seconds of silence he seemed to finally notice Strong Bad didn't seem as eager as usual for the outing. "You okay?"
"I'm fine. Just a little ..." He sighed, frustrated. "It's no big deal." He faked a smile. "See? Come on. I'm hungry."
"Okie dokie." Homestar accepted that response and followed him out the door.
The two made minimal chit chat on the way to the diner. Homestar ended up dominating most of it as his fellow participant in the conversations seemed too distracted to offer much input. He walked ahead to get the door, nodding to car occupying a parking spot at the curb nearby as he passed it. "See, I told you this place was good. Even the police come here."
"The police?" Strong Bad raised an eyebrow, nervous. "Um. I'm not a big huge fan of the police. Maybe we should go somewhere else."
"Why?" Homestar snorted. "We're here already. We might as well get lunch." He pulled open the door. Inside, an officer was conversing with their usual waitress. She was shaking her head a lot, biting her lip. Then she looked over the officer's shoulder, noticing Homestar.
"Oh, there they are now," she observed.
Strong Bad tensed up. "Uh oh."
"Boys, we need to have a word with you," the officer said sternly.
The 'word' in question was 'theft'.
Strong Bad pulled at his handcuffs in the back of the police car. He glanced over at Homestar, frowning. "I'm ... I'm sorry I got you into this."
"It's illegal to abuse a computer error," the officer barked. "You're just lucky we can't pin all the money on you two."
Homestar merely sighed and stared at his own handcuffs. He could easily break them off if he wanted, but he had enough sense to know that he was in trouble, and the last thing he needed was to attract more attention to himself. Normal people didn't go around breaking out of their handcuffs. "Uh huh."
He jolted against the back of the seat as the car pulled away from the curb and fixed his gaze out the window. Who knew that was considered stealing? Money wasn't something you paid for, so it hadn't immediately occurred to him that it counted as- well, at least as much of an illegal activity to 'borrow' it. Now he just felt stupid. Of course it was bad. It still wasn't his own money. Strong Bad should have-
He stopped at that thought, his brain- or rather, adaptive learning program, kicking into gear. Strong Bad definitely should have known what they were doing was wrong. He was always the guy with the clue about what was going on. He couldn't have done it on purpose, could he? A few seconds passed before he glanced over at his companion and dared to ask what was now bothering him more than the fact that he'd been arrested.
"You weren't just hanging out with me to get money, were you?" He said finally.
Strong Bad looked like a deer in headlights. It was bound to come up one day, he just hadn't figured Homestar would piece it together that quickly. Then again, he was a walking super computer. Even if he lacked common sense, he was bright. Too bright.
He blinked in rapid succession, visibly flustered. "No!" he squeaked- a lie. That was how it started, right? Abusing his new toy's power? "Well, I mean..."
Just keep lying.
"... maybe at first."
He winced and looked away, feeling horribly guilty. It wasn't a feeling he was actually accustomed to. He didn't regret stealing the money, but the look on Homestar's face ... he looked so betrayed, Strong Bad just wanted to throw up.
Homestar choked out an "Oh," before going quiet again. He knew he should have been angry, but more than anything else he was disappointed. It had been nice to believe Strong Bad had actually started to enjoy his company. It had been nice, too, to imagine that they'd liked each other- maybe not at quite the same level, but all the same it had been good while it lasted. He couldn't find the words to say much else until they pulled up at their destination. As the officers got out of the front, he cleared his throat- an unnecessary thing to do for an android, but it was a habit that had been programmed into his social subroutines to make him seem more 'real.'
"Well, at least you don't have to fake it anymore."
With that, their driver opened his door and led him out of the car as the other officer pulled open the door on Strong Bad's side.
Strong Bad stared at him dejectedly. "Homestar, I-" The officer grabbed his shoulder and and motioned for him to get up. He sighed. Homestar probably wouldn't believe him, anyway. Hell, who would? He was a liar, and a good one.
He ended up calling his mother for bail money, but it turned out she didn't have have it. They had put all their funds into a vacation for the kids, apparently. He didn't blame her, but it was stupidly frustrating when Homeschool came and bailed Homestar out without batting an eyelash. He glared at the cell wall, arms crossed over his chest.
"Him too," Homeschool said calmly, and Strong Bad snapped to attention.
"...what?"
Homeschool ignored his inquiry, but there was the money. Strong Bad watched in awe as he handed it to the guard. Great, another wave of guilt. But why was Homeschool paying his bail anyway?
"There. You should be grateful I'm doing this, Homestar. This isn't cheap," Homeschool scolded, like a father to a misbehaving child. He sneered at Strong Bad and motioned for him to follow. "Come on."
Homestar lagged along behind, briefly considering the idea of locking himself back in the holding cell. Prison might be better than whatever Homeschool was going to do to him for this. He'd never been arrested before- at least, he couldn't remember being arrested before. He knew that his creator sometimes messed with his memory banks when he was reprogramming him. But on the bright side, maybe he'd just forget all this ever happened.
When they got out of the building, Homeschool directed his delinquent invention to the white van parked crookedly between two squad cars in the lot. Then he turned away, waiting for Strong Bad as he exited the building behind them. "I'll give you a ride home." It sounded more like an order than an offer.
Strong Bad tensed up nervously. "Okay."
He followed him, trying his best to keep some distance between himself and the other passengers. Homeschool was a difficult person to read. He was mad, that wasn't a secret, but how mad was he? He got into the back seat and pushed some electrical wires and trinkets aside. He picked one up and looked it over. This could be the same wire that made Homestar up on the inside. Could be his artery, or something. He frowned and tossed it aside.
He didn't like thinking about Homestar's ... inhumanness these days. It was hard to justify having a crush on a robot.
Homeschool got into the driver's seat without a word, turning the engine over and pulling out of the lot before he actually addressed the occupants of his vehicle. "I want you to understand that this is more of a warning than a favor. I had to pull quite a few strings to get you out so fast and to drop the charges. I can just as easily trace the other thefts back to you, Strong Bad."
"Don't," Homestar blurted. "It's not-"
"Homestar," the scientist snapped warningly, and he fell silent again.
"Anyway, my point is that I know you somehow stumbled across Homestar's true nature. At his request, I'm letting you go, but I need you to realize that you can't breathe a word about it to anyone." He paused. "And you need to stop interfering in his development. That means ceasing any and all interaction between you."
Strong Bad took a moment to take it all in. He blinked. "Wait... wait, you mean I can't even talk to him?"
"That is precisely what I mean. And don't worry about work, I've already notified his previous employer about his immediate resignation. I just need you to stop... enabling him in taking part in these kinds of activities." He glanced out the side of his glasses at Homestar, who was in the passenger seat up front. Homestar quickly looked at his shoes.
"That's not fair!" Strong Bad snapped, instantly regretting it. Whatever, idiot, roll with it. "You can't just lock him away whenever someone makes a mistake. They happen. He's a learning program, right? He'll learn. Next time he'll know better than to listen to me. Or maybe he'll decide for himself that he doesn't wanna s...see me any..." He found himself losing steam, stuttering a bit. "Anymore. He's not a freakin' toy you can just lock away when you're mad at everyone."
"'Course I'd want to hang out with you again, if you actually wanted to," Homestar muttered.
Despite the outburst, Homeschool remained in the same, tense state of calm. "I am not locking him away from the world, nor am I reprogramming him- at least for now. It has just become clear to me that you are a bad influence on him that he obviously isn't prepared to resist, and I can't risk the destruction of this entire project merely so you can corrupt him further and go around earning yourself some extra lunch money again. I can only hope you haven't done enough permanent damage already. A new cybernetic brain costs more than the property values of every house in this neighborhood put together, not to mention the labor I have to put into fine-tuning the programs."
Strong Bad glared at him. "Stop talking about him like he isn't even here."
Homeschool glanced over his shoulder at him, then to Homestar, who was now leaning an elbow against the window and staring out of it moodily.
Their driver was silent for a moment, removing a hand from the wheel to nudge his glasses. "He's fine. I think you overestimate how developed his program is... which is perhaps fortunate." He tapped his fingers nervously on the wheel. "He should be able to recover," he muttered quietly, mostly as an assurance to himself.
"No one figured out he was a robot for three years. Maybe you shouldn't underestimate him," Strong Bad huffed angrily, going silent from then on out.
The drive was a short one, and Strong Bad hesitated to leave the van, despite Homeschool's insistence.
He eventually did as he was instructed, but not without smiling weakly at Homestar. "I wasn't faking it."
That said, he left the van and walked the rest of the way home, head hanging dejectedly.
Homestar stared after him curiously as they pulled away and into their own driveway.
"Let's go," Homeschool prompted, yanking the passenger door open. His tone had gone from tense to tired since Strong Bad had been dropped off.
Homestar seemed to snap out of a train of thought and unfastened his seatbelt. "Yeah, coming." He followed his creator up the front steps, stopping briefly to sneak a glance over his shoulder at the house across the way. He smiled to himself, then went inside and shut the door behind him.