A giant rubber stamp with the slogan NO SONG LYRICS on it impacted the screen.

"Uh… guys?" Homestar asked. "I think the musical is off."

"Aw, come on, man!" Strong Bad protested. "This was gonna be… different, man! Not like those umpteen-hundred stories where a guy writes, like, 2 paragraphs of something original, and then pastes in the entire lyrics to some Green Park song, and then writes some stuff at the end… this was gonna actually UTILIZE the lyrics! You know, like all the great… uh… guys who copy and paste stuff they didn't write do…"

"So, uh… do we just hang awound and wait for the next chapter?" Homestar asked.

"Nahhh… I say we bitterly and half-heartedly edit the lyrics outta that one movie parody and put it up for all twelve of our viewers to see and deride." Strong Bad nodded. "Maybe they won't notice this thing's a freakin' half-year late…"

"Yes sir, Captain Muwway!" Homestar saluted as the screen came to life. Figuratively speaking, of course.


Lavish satin curtains pulled back to reveal an elaborately decorated stage, the style of which seemed to be a cross between ancient India and bohemian Paris. The music swelled and the spotlight shone on Homestar's form, perched on top of something, as he broke into a grin and belted out the opening lines to Rocket Man.

"Homestar, you're singing the wrong song again." Marzipan, clad in a tacky red wig, scolded as she too sat on the large object in the middle of the stage.

"Well, jeez! Which one is it?" Homestar asked, leafing through the pages of Sir Elton's Gaudiest Hits. "This guy wrote, like, 800 billion fweakin' songs!"

"See? This is why I shoulda been the romantic lead!" Strong Bad commented as he stomped on stage, dressed in a tacky impresario outfit, complete with a waxy moustache and top hat. "Sure, maybe Homestar's closer to your height, but at least I can remember my freakin' lines! I mean, I didn't wear this fat suit for nothing, you know." He added, patting his stomach.

"Strong Bad, that looks like your actual stomach." Marzipan commented.

"There, ya see?" Strong Bad shot back. "It's so good it almost looks natural!"

"Uh… can we take five now, please?" Strong Sad asked, in considerable muscle pain. Yes, he was the object holding up Homestar and Marzipan, using every ounce of his vaunted upper-body strength.

"Hey, read the script, man." Strong Bad snapped, cuffing Strong Sad across the face. "The elephant doesn't talk."

"But I'm only HALF elephant." Strong Sad whined. "I should at least be getting pay scale for this…"

"Eh, hate ta bug you guys in the middle of yer cadenzas like this, but… uh… we got a problem backstage." Coach Z remarked as and Bubs entered in tie and tails. "Eh, The Chort says that he's bein' typecast as the little guy."

"Meeh! Meh!" The Cheat growled as he stormed on stage in what was a pretty good likeness of Henri Toulouse-Lautrec.

"Ooh, The Cheat! You look very post-impressionist!" Marzipan cooed.

"Oh, yeah." Homestar added. "You look so much like Pwesident Twuman it's scawy!"

"It ain't that bad, The Cheat." Bubs shrugged. "Somebody's gotta be the dwarf, after all."

"I WANNA BE THE DWARF!" Strong Mad yelled, storming onstage dressed in a three-piece suit and holding a gun.

"Aw, gimme a break, man." Strong Bad rejoined. "Do you realize how few musicals have big guys with guns running around? You should be counting your lucky stars, man!"

Homsar toddled on stage wearing a monocle and a top hat. "Dya-a-a-a-ah! I'm the Duke of Earl!" he crowed.

"I've had enough of this." Marzipan pouted, jumping down and heading for backstage. "I'm going to go die of tuberculosis now and get it over with."

"Can I join you?" Strong Sad asked, hopefully.


Next (BETTER) Episode:

The Witless Bride