She opened her eyes. Dawn was peeking out from the far shrubbery on the horizon. A rooster crowed, signaling that morning had come.
But it was not the same.
Among the field lay many pieces of rubble, smoking from an unknown blast. Behind Marzipan a small fire was crackling on the broken down door, leading the way to what was once Homestar Runner's house.
She gasped. "Homestar…? Are you there?"
There was no response, however. Only the smoke and gas from Homestar's basement.
Marzipan looked downwards. Instead of seeing him inside, there was a large glob of Witches' Brew sprawled on the floor. It bubbled radioactive bubbles of neon and digested the wooden furniture, also swallowing many of the liquids and polluting much of the air.
Once again, she gasped.
And guess who came to stop by?
"Hey hey!" Marshie yelled with glee as he swooped in from nowhere. "At last, my business nuisance has been defeated!" Worse, Cherry Greg came to shoot the commercial. It was an unruly marketing plot and could mooch off millions of dollars or pencil shavings or any other legal tender. Strong Bad would've bought 400 bags of the Fluffy Puff Marshmallows now that Homestar was out of his way.
"Kids, see this lady here?" The flying marsmallow swooped and 'accidentally' knocked her down. "Whoops, she isn't ready yet to try RADIOACTIVE FLUFFY PUFF MARSHMALLOWS!"
As Marshie said this a big, neon-green led sign came from above and landed in front of Marzipan. RADIOACTIV FLUFY PUF MRSHMALLOW was what it said.
Marshie proceeded to dip himself in the spawning goo. He brought a bucket of marshmallows to the fray and scooped the waste in it.
And munched it all.
Marshie was now unconsiderably full. He burped, and quietly said "Excuse me."
Marzipan slowly got up from the bruise that the marshmallow dealt him. She peeked over the broken wall and saw Marshie swish and swash in the goo, eating some of it as he crazily flew in many directions.
"You see kids, with Homestar's goo, you can now transform into great heights! Four feet, six feet, maybe a gazillion and a quarter feet!"
Marshie then flew back into the field, crashing through the led sign and electrocuting Marzipan. She nearly fell down as the vile marketer concluded his commercial.
"Buy the RADIOACTIVE FLUFFY PUFF MARSHMALLOWS today! In one bag, in two bags, in three bags, what the heck, just try them!"
Just as the badly singing choir attempted to sing, Marzipan ran around the sign and headbashed face-first the camera.
"Cut," Cherry Greg shouted. He turned to the lady. "Lady-"
"Ahem." You had best remembered that she was an independent woman. "Marzipan."
"Marzipan, do you know how much our advertising and shooting for this commercial costs?"
"What, five nickels?"
The director sighed. "Yes…"
A furious marshmallow intentionally swooped in and beat the snot out of the director. His attention turned to Marzipan.
"YEAH, AND IF IT WERE FOR YOU, FLUFFY PUFF MARSHMALLOWS WOULD BE BROKED! Um, BROKE!"
"And what are you teaching kids? To force them to eat Fluffy Puffs?"
"YE- heck no! We're a non-profit organization!"
"A non-profit organization that forces people to-"
Out of nowhere came the obligatory record scratch. Coach Z walked in, his waist garmented with a blue towel. He sipped a cup of sanka.
"Hey there boys, girls, what's the hold up?" the coach questioned. "I'm supposed to teach Homestar the art of Pushing-Up and Curling-Down!"
"Sorry, loser." Marshie somehow punched the Coach's face and he ran off gibbering.
"That was mean," the woman commented. "Don't do that-"
"I HAVE A RIGHT TO DO THAT, GOSH DANGIT!" As Marshie swore and cursed, his obsceneties drowned out by Strong Bad's keytar playing.
"Um, guys?" Strong Bad felt suspicious. "Are you…verbally making out in front of the morning republic?"
The two stared at him.
"And where is Homestar?" he added. "I have to beat him up with a mallet while Coach Z trains him on his fitnesseseseses."
Marshie broke the silence. "HE DIED!"
"W-what!" Strong Bad jumped back. "Bullcrap! I will not have any of these excuses sought to your majesty Strong Bad! Now pay up some ham or else-"
"GET OUT OF HERE YOU FREAKING-"
Marshie stopped speaking. He hesitantly turned his attention to Marzipan. "Gotta go!" he snapped frantically, and he swooshed back to the evil factory from whence he came.
Strong Bad was nervous. "Is it okay if I…"
"No making out. Ever." Marzipan dismissed Strong Bad with a mean glare.
The earth rattled vigorously, the stomping sounds getting nearer each second.
THUMP DUB-A DUMP.
"Okay! Okay! I'm scared!" Strong Bad dropped his keytar (forever) and held on to Marzipan, wrapping his arms around her neck lightly.
"Don't. Do. That." Marzipan forcefully tried to rustle Strong Bad off her back.
And unfortunately for Strong Bad, cracks and crevices formed in the field. The shiny keytar fell through the layers of ground, never to be seen in about a jillion years.
"WHAT! NO!" he cried. And literally he did cry.
Marzipan began to sense fear in her. "We better get out of here before-"
Before Bubs came, jamming on a pair of maracas. The rattles were in sync with his shaking.
"Howdy guys!" Bubs cheerfully said, shaking his maracas in tune with the thumps.
Marzipan was ticked. "You better clean this mess up, mister!"
"Yeah!" Strong Bad added. "Um…what she said!"
"And why do you hold on to Marzipan like that? She's my lady!"
The massive footstep came out of nowhere, squashing Bubs to near death. It lifted up, and another foot came down, this time on Bubs' Concession Stand. ("No! My Cream and Avocado Fritters!")
The coward he nearly was, Strong Bad made a break for it.
But the red and blue monstrosity paid no heed to her calls.