Coach Z was relaxing in his living room when he heard the phone ring. Picking it up, he heard a familiar voice on the other side of the line.

"Hey, Coach Z?"

"Oh. Heya Strong Bad. What can I do you fer?"

"Hey, uh, I was just wondering. You're a real coach, right? Like, 'Coach' isn't just your first name or something, right?"

"Yeah, I'm the real deal. Why do you ask?"

"Well, it's just that I'm making a college football team, and I figure it's probably going to need a coach, y'know? And I don't exactly know where to get a coach. The Cheat looked it up in the Yellow Pages for me, but there weren't any listings, so...will you do it?"

"Gee, Strong Bad, I don't know. I mean, I haven't coached in years, and I'm really more interested in my hip-hop career now. What's in it for me?"

"I'll get The Cheat to make you free Scope n' Cokes. On demand."

There was a long pause on the phone.

"It's a deal, man! When do I start?"

"Well, right now. Especially since you need to help me recruit."

"Alright, man. I'll try."
"And that, Dan", said Strong Bad, who was now much more relaxed in front of the camera, "is how I got my first major acquisition." Mr. Patrick, meanwhile, was bewildered at what he was hearing. "What the hell?", he thought. "Scope n' Coke?"

"However", continued Strong Bad, "the next person I acquired is actually the most important person on the entire team, which I can hardly believe myself, considering the circumstances..."

Strong Bad was in his computer room, sitting down for yet another round of e-mail answering. "E-Mails. The food group...of the future. Dear Strong Bad, I heard from Coach Z that you're starting a college football team. I have a proposition to make about this. Come over to my house later and we'll talk. It's too complicated to say in just an e-mail. Please be serious about this; I think you'll like what I have to say. Sincerely, Marzipan." Strong Bad looked at the e-mail for a few seconds. Marzipan? Something seemed amiss. "So Marzy, you wanna talk football? Well, guess what, girl? I am in no mood for your hippie protests about my team. And you're right. I should be serious about this. That's why your e-mail is being seriously DELETED!" Strong Bad laughed and simply went on to the next e-mail.

A few days passed. Strong Bad and Coach Z were walking along the sidewalk, looking in a NFL fantasy guide for potential prospects. They weren't having much luck.

"The problem is", said Coach Z, "that way too many of these guys aren't eligible anymore. I just don't get it. If they were in college three years, couldn't they just come back?"

Marzipan, watching and listening to their conversation, smacked her forehead with her nonexistent palm and sighed. She then walked out of her house and over to them. "Strong Bad, I really need to talk about this team you're making. Don't worry; I won't make any protests. I promise." Strong Bad was sure she was just going to make some useless point, but didn't want to be bugged further, so he decided to comply. "Alright, alright. You got ten minutes."

"That's all I'll need."

Marzipan and Strong Bad walked into Marzy's house together. "Okay, Marzipan, what is it you want?"

"I want to help you."

"You...what?"

"You heard me. I want to help you."

"Really? And just what kind of help would you provide?"

"Admit it, Strong Bad. You and Z may love the game, but you wouldn't know a halfback from a nose tackle."

"And you would?"

Marzipan sighed. She then took a key out of her pocket and walked over to a door. "I swore I'd never show anyone this, but...I guess times change." Marzipan opened the door to reveal a room full of football memorabilia, a couch, and a widescreen plasma TV. "Welcome to my viewing parlor."

Strong Bad simply looked on in shock. "Make out with me, girl. Right now." The same nonexistent hand Marzipan recently used to smack her forehead was now being used to smack Strong Bad's cheekbone. "Sorry about that."

"It's okay. I didn't know how you'd react."

"You're in here a lot, aren't you?"

Marzipan smiled. "Why do you think I always let the answering machine pick up?"

"But Marzipan, why wouldn't you show this to anyone? I mean, what's so wrong about a love-and-peace hippie having a passion for a roughhouse, inherently violent-oh. I see."

"Exactly. But I think if all of Free Country is going to get the football vibe, I might as well follow suit in style. So anyway, I know of quite a few players we could recruit. I think with the right training, they could dominate."

"Really? Who is it? Where are they?"

Marzipan smirked like she couldn't believe he didn't know. "Don't you see? It's all of us."

And that's Chapter 2! What does Marzipan see in the citizens of Free Country that'll let them dominate? You'll find out soon enough.