Strong Bad had been fired and re-hired from his job countless times. Somehow having an airline named after someone means that people tend to not like it when you fire said person. However, no one could honestly say that he was any good at being a flight attendant. Generally, a stewardess would be polite, patient and efficient. Strong Bad could never be any of these things. He would never be any of them. He only kept the stupid job because it seemed to be the only one where he could do whatever he wanted and still be a permanent employee. And he got to fly for free.

His uniform barely followed the standards. There was no chance of giving up his signature wrestling-styled black tights and red boots. He'd at least tied his hair back, so why should they complain? Who cares if he isn't wearing a shirt under his jacket? Shirts are only uncomfortable anyway. The orange necktie was a bit of a girly touch but unfortunately he had no way of avoiding that one. He did like the gold pin he wore on his jacket. That was mainly because he'd designed said pin. But that's not the point.

Strong Bad straightened his hat as he ambled up the steps to the aircraft. It wasn't completely unusual for him to be a bit late, but at least he arrived before the passengers this time. He was supposed to be awaiting instruction from whoever was in charge…though he didn't have a clue who that was exactly. Shrugging it off, he walked over to the refreshment carts and inspected what was meant to be "served to the passengers". That phrase actually meant what boxes Strong Bad would raid for the good stuff, while ignoring the crappy side to airplane food. The drinks weren't all that bad though. On today's menu (as far as he could tell) there was a cookie, a small chocolate bar and a…turkey sandwich. He at least assumed by its funny colouring that it was turkey. Taking a few boxes' worth of cookies and such - ignoring the suspect lunchmeat on the more suspect bread - he wandered over to the front of the aircraft where the other attendants were gathering. There only seemed to be about two others today, which meant that the flight wasn't particularly full. All the better. Strong Bad didn't quite enjoy being around people anyway. After paying virtually no attention to the instructions given, he lurked around the back of the aircraft to wait for all the passengers to be shown their seats by someone else.

Homestar could not stand flying. He hated the packed airports, the rush to board the aircraft, the stress of taking off without crashing, the painfully long wait during the flight, the useless food, the stress of landing without crashing, and trying to find his luggage afterward. However he had to attend his cousin's wedding the next day and flying was the only way he'd get there on time. He couldn't even get any coffee. Granted that giving coffee to such an energetic person was probably not the best idea, but it at least took his mind off of the intense paranoia he felt when flying.

As he shakily ascended the steps to board the dreaded flying machine of potential death, Homestar clamped his hand around the strap of his backpack. It contained the simple things that would help divert his attention from the uneasiness; a couple of comic books and an mp3 player. Being greeted by friendly air hostesses made him feel slightly more comfortable. However as he was making his way along the isle he was pushed rudely aside by another flight attendant walking the in opposite direction. Homestar hadn't caught their face in time but what did catch his attention was their blue hair tied back into a short ponytail. It was an intense, vibrant colour that he'd never quite seen before…and he was completely transfixed by it. The uniform was different to the friendlier stewardesses, only half resembling theirs. The irritated stewardess stood with their hands on their hips probably being instructed on what to do next. They then abruptly turned on their heel and walked toward the back of the aircraft. As they approached, Homestar could see their face more clearly…and he couldn't stop staring. Strands of brilliant blue hair were only half brushed aside and the rest fell freely. Vibrant green eyes practically shone out from under the bangs. The colours were nothing like he'd ever seen on a person before. And then with an embarrassing twist, said flight attendant looked right at him with a "what are you looking at" expression and continued on without a second glance.

Homestar felt his face growing red. That was really weird. He'd never gotten so distracted by a stranger before, let alone on a flight which he hated more than anything else. Their face was slender and smooth with slightly girly features…and that hair actually seemed radiant in its colour. No, this was really silly. He could not become so fixated on a random air hostess. He had a girlfriend back home. One who didn't seem to enjoy his company when she could be out "fighting the cause", but she was still his girlfriend nonetheless. He slipped into the aisle seat (the others alongside still unoccupied) in case he felt the need to walk around and calm down in the event of this damn flying business getting the better of him.

Homestar decided not to think too much about it and just wait until he could fill his ears with loud music and see nothing but page after page of superheroes fighting crime. However the more he tried not to think about it, the more he wanted to turn around and get another look at the incredibly rude but pretty air hostess he was now feeling slightly obsessed with. As he leaned over to peek around the corner of his seat, aforementioned air "hostess" started wandering toward the middle of the aisle. Quickly snapping back to the frontward-facing position, Homestar tried to look as unsuspicious as possible. He was unsuccessful.

Strong Bad was now passing this weirdo that kept looking at him for the second time. He was now trying to pretend that he hadn't been staring. The flight attendant was unsure of what exactly to think; should he be flattered or creeped out? Strong Bad pushed his thoughts aside for a bit as he was now "supposed" to be giving safety instructions. Considering the fact that towards the back of the aircraft was pretty empty, Strong Bad had chosen to man that station. As the voiceover conveyed all the instructions, he vaguely indicated toward the exit in front of them, toward the oxygen mask mouthing something like "you'll figure it out" and then picked up a lifejacket and gave up on tying the strings after two seconds. He lifted up his hands to signify the end of his demonstration and wandered off again.

Homestar was always both freaked out and calmed down when he witnessed the safety demonstrations. The fact that something could go wrong worried him, but knowing exactly what to do also made him feel slightly better. However because this flight attendant was completely useless at their job and hardly did anything about demonstrating the proper actions to take in case of an emergency, Homestar now felt far worse than he ever had before. He had a knot in his stomach from the nerves and could not get the idea of crashing and dying due to this pathetic airline's staff out of his head.

But as nervous as he felt, he still had the insane urge to look at the flight attendant that had caught his attention and held it for so long. He was getting frustrated by this constant distraction and uneasiness caused by this stranger he didn't even know the name of. He looked up as the other attendants began to get to their stations as the plane would begin to take off. And that was when Homestar's nerves went through the roof. He decided to bury himself in his comics ahead of schedule, at least just to make taking off feel a little more bearable. Soon though, the infamous object of his recent fixation had paused next to him and was curiously looking at his reading material.

The cover had an overly muscular man in a wrestling mask and boxing gloves yelling to his sidekick Stiny about a danish. "Ah. The 'Strong Badman' series. Cool." The air "hostess" promptly slid over and sat next to Homestar trying to read the comic book over his shoulder. Only that was when Homestar clicked that this was no "hostess". And that he was now sitting next to him for no reason at all. Reading his comic book. That was about all his brain needed to slow down in order to process everything. The flight attendant was not a girl. The incredibly girly-looking one was in fact a boy. He had been instantly obsessed with a boy. His recent obsession was now sitting next to him without any introductions, or any particular reason apart from reading over his shoulder. Well that was indeed one of the weirder moments of his life.

Strong Bad noticed that this guy was obviously uncomfortable all of a sudden. How inconsiderate; now reading his comic book was going to be awkward. This weird kid kept glancing at him and he tried to ignore it for as long as possible. He got as far as reading the pages open before him until it eventually just got really annoying. "What? Do you have a problem?"

Homestar still found it difficult to process the deep, gravelly voice coming out of the pretty face he saw in front of him. Managing to suppress his awkwardness long enough, he tried to explain his irritation with the whole situation. "Uh, kinda. I have no idea who you are and you just sat down next to me and started reading over my shoulder."

"And? It's a free country." That was the excuse Strong Bad used for most of the things he did that passengers openly complained about. But it didn't seem to be working on this kid - who was probably afraid of flying on top of it all judging by his jumpiness - so he figured that he might make it slightly easier for everyone. "Fine. I'm Strong Bad. Now you know who I am."

Homestar had to admit that knowing the name of this guy did make him feel a little better. He loosened up a little and handed his new-found acquaintance/still obsessive interest a different one of his comic books. "I'm Homestar. Well you know. That's my first name. Runner's my last name." And now he was being awkward again; his cheeks going red as he felt more like a dork with each passing second.

"Homestar Runner, huh?" Strong Bad flipped through the pages of the comic book, trying to figure out if he'd read it already or not. "What, are you like some sort of athlete or something?" As far as he could tell, some parts of the story seemed familiar but he wasn't sure if he remembered it or not.

"I'm the best athlete in my neighbourhood!" Homestar beamed excitedly, forgetting that he had felt like an idiot five seconds earlier. Any time he got the chance to discuss his sporting career with anyone he immediately forgot about whatever problems he may have had earlier. However judging by Strong Bad's lack of interest in the topic, Homestar felt his spirits drop slightly. He hadn't quite expected such a reaction. What he then noticed was the unusual sensation of returning to equilibrium. They had taken off the ground and he didn't even notice a thing because he was so focused on Strong Bad. Looking at the passive expression hiding behind blue bangs, Homestar felt slightly calmer having someone he could preoccupy himself with. Maybe this flight could be better than he thought.