We open in a rich-looking den. Strong Sad sits on a plush chair in a smoker's jacket, a large book on his lap. Shelves of books line the walls. Distinguished music plays in the background.
"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to Angster's Theatre." Strong Sad says. "The show in which we share the works of all the great poets who touched the world with their gift before ending their lives in a variety of gruesome ways. In the next three hours, we will explore the wretched souls of these gifted individuals, starting with the works of..."
It is then that the music abruptly stops. The lights brighten. "Huh? What?" Strong Sad asks.
Suddenly Homestar enters. "Oh, sowwy, Stwong Sad. I'm afwaid we're gonna have to cancel your pwogwam." He says.
"But why?" Strong Sad protests.
Bubs pops up holding a line graph. "Well," he says, "it might have to do with the fact that most people prefer The Facts of Life reruns to that depressive gothic crap!"
"What's wrong with The Facts of Life?" Strong Sad asks, even though nobody is really listening to him.
"So instead, we're doing something a little bit diffewent." Homestar announces.
"More like a whole lot different." Strong Bad announces as he enters the scene. "We're talking different universes, man." He turns offscreen and shouts. "Okay, you guys! Let's hop to it! Chop chop! While we're still young and, in some cases, handsome!"
Strong Mad and Pom Pom arrive and carry off Strong Sad's chair with him still on it. "Hey! What the..." Strong Sad is able to say before he is entirely whisked off stage.
"Ah, this place looks less loserly already." Strong Bad declares with a smile. "Okay, The Cheat! Hit the lights!" he shouts.
There is a loud clang from offscreen and a Cheatish cry of pain. "No, I mean turn them on!" Strong Bad clarifies. Shortly thereafter, the main lights dim, and a spotlight shines on Strong Bad.
"Ah, that's more like it. Nice work, The Cheat!" Strong Bad shouts.
"Meh!" The Cheat's voice sounds from offscreen.
Strong Bad turns and addresses you, the audience. "Ladies and gentlemen, and... uh, genderless people, we welcome you to an evening of classic literature like you've never seen it before."
"That's wight!" Homestar adds. "Step wight up for the gweatest show in thwee distwicts! The sparkle! The bedazzle! The white tigers!"
"Homestar, I told you already." Strong Bad yells. "There are no freakin' white tigers! Not after what happened last time, anyway." Poor Mr. Bland.
"Oh." Homestar mutters. "But there's still sparkle, wight?"
"Yeah, there's some of that." Strong Bad admits. "But mostly it's us, the Free Country Amateur Theatre Group..."
"Our motto is, 'We'll just pwetend it's impwov!'" Homestar pipes up.
"...giving our unique interpretations of classic stories." Strong Bad concludes. "That's why we call it..."
Awesome-stwated!" Homestar abruptly announces.
"Homestar, what the crap are you doing?" Strong Bad yells. "I was supposed to wait for the music to crescendo, the neon sign to lower, and then I'd say the title, not you."
"Oh, sowwy, man." Homestar says, sheepishly. "I thought you had just forgotten your line."
"Sheesh." Strong Bad despairs. "Anyway, we'll be doing all kinds of stories. Classic tales..."
"Faiwy tales..." Homestar adds.
"Short stories..." Bubs remarks.
"Lord of the Wings?" Homestar asks, tentatively.
"Uh... sure." Strong Bad declares. "But not right away."
"Staer Waers?" Coach Z asks, popping up.
"No way, man." Strong Bad dismisses. "I think that's been done before."
"Each stowy will be short and simple for easy digestion." Homestar points out.
"And best of all, the end of each story will feature a teaser so the reader can anticipate the next thrilling installment!" Strong Bad adds, wrapping it all up.
"This is gonna be great!" Coach Z declares. "C'mon, let's get rollin', here!"
"Sounds good." Strong Bad agrees. He turns to the audience. "So why don't you all sit back and relax, with a bottle of Lemon Cola and a loved one at your side, or two bottles if you can't get a loved one, and enjoy our awesome-strated versions of classic stories. Let's do it!"
The group runs off the stage. The spotlight goes out. After a while, Strong Sad's voice plaintively rings out. "At this rate nobody will ever respect me as an artist... or anything else..."
Homestar and the Beanstalk