DÖI wasn't exactly doing well at the moment. Even with the King of Town thrashing a fallen amp with his axe-guitar, the crowd wasn't pleased enough. At least Strong Bad had managed to sabotage the other groups down to DÖI's level of 'suckiness'. He knew the only way to impress the crowd, and Limozeen, was to release his stage prop, but unfortunately, there had been several... Complications in that plan.

Strong Bad stopped for a moment and watched as Homsar hovered in circles around the unusual giant single-antenna electronic instrument, wailing unusual ghostly-sounding tones.

"What IS that thing, anyway?" Strong Bad thought to himself.

Homsar's circular motion around the theremin grew wider and wider as he rose up to the top of its antenna, until he inevitably collided with the fuse box located almost unsettlingly close to him.


Homsar wobbled a bit, startled from hitting his head on the fuse box, but otherwise unharmed, as he continued to play his odd electronic instrument. By now, Strong Bad was getting annoyed and the small audience was growing restless again. He had to keep them entertained while he found a way to disable that giant fan that was overpowering him.

The German helmet! Goodness knows what it was, but something pushed Strong Bad to want to acquire that spiked helmet from the rack of hats placed unusually on the stage.

"Must... Get... German... Hat..." Strong Bad strained, slowly walking forward against the massive force of the wind from the nearby giant fan. With one quick swipe, he grabbed the hat and lost his balance, sliding back across the stage on his knees.

"That man slid!" Homestar cheered. "That man slid on his knees!"

"Wait, I haven't gotten to the good part yet!" Strong bad said, wondering what to with the hat. There was no way it would look good on his own husky head... But maybe it would look good on Homsar. That might be a crowd pleaser. Now Strong Bad had to get the spiked helmet onto Homsar's head, which would have been an easy task if the theremin-player wasn't flying up and down and back and forth so unpredictably. He jumped at Homsar a few times with the helmet in his gloved fist, but Homsar wouldn't keep still long enough to give him a chance.

"Hold still, you weird little misspelling!" Strong Bad grumbled, taking one final jump and slipping the German helmet on top of Homsar's yellow bowler hat.

Homsar didn't mind the headgear upgrade, or if he did, he certainly didn't show it. He continued hovering contently around the tall antenna of his theremin, vocalising the notes it produced.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," Strong Bad announced, stepping up to the microphone, "Baron von Homsar, der Commisar of Metal!"

The small audience reacted well, with Homestar cursing the letters E and T for separating himself from 'being as cool as Homsar' and Larry praising the 'weird instrument'. Now that they had regained interest in DÖI, all Strong Bad had to do was release his amazing stage prop to them, and the victory would be in his boxing gloves for sure!

…Unfortunately, that didn't quite go as planned. Homsar continued to float in circles around his instrument, rising and falling, back and forth. For only a split second did Strong Bad realise the possible outcome of Homsar colliding with that fuse box again.


The metal spike on Homsar's helmet pierced straight into the fuse box, sending a shower of sparks shooting out from it with a loud bang and horrid crackling noise. The audience gasped in shock, Coach Z ducking in alarm, Marzipan staring in horror, Homestar blinking in disbelief and Bubs covering his eyes in fright. Poor Homsar was completely helpless as incredibly high-voltage electricity coursed through his body. Even the King of Town had stopped mercilessly attacking his live buttered lobster and averted his attention to what was now a glowing ball of sparks and bolts of electricity. Homsar's distressed wail could only faintly be heard over the loud crackling and zapping of electricity that burned through him.

It was over in less than half a minute, but it felt like an eternity that everyone had just stood there, watching helplessly as they were unable to save Homsar from the electric shock that the fuse box had given him. The theremin-player fell to the ground below with a hard thud, completely motionless as the sparking and crackling from the fuse box died down and the smoke cleared. Everyone rushed over to Homsar and gathered around him, in hopes that maybe, just maybe he was still okay. He was very badly burned, so much so that a foul burning smell lingered around him, and his mouth was still agape in a hopeless, terrified expression. An eerie silence fell upon the small crowd as it occurred to them what had just happened. Homsar had just been electrocuted to death on stage.

They all stared down at Homsar's body in shock. No one quite knew what to say. What was a fun night, well, not that fun with all the mishaps, had gone so bad. They all stood there around him, mouths agape. The air itself seemed as still and dead as their friend. An ungodly silence hung in the area, as if the silence would never end and they would never move. Time had seemingly stopped and they were stuck... Until Strong Bad decided open his big mouth.

"That wasn't supposed to happen." said Strong Bad. They all glared angrily at Strong Bad, if looks could kill he would be joining Homsar.

"What? Was it something I said?"

"Strong Bad, how can you be so insensitive?!" Screeched Marzipan.

"What did I do!?"

"Homsar just died and you're all like," Marzipan adjusted her voice to imitate Strong Bad, "Well that's not supposed to happen." The others nodded angrily in agreement.

"I still don't see what I did wrong!" Exclaimed Strong Bad, he was starting to get antsy, and the crowd was getting ugly... Well, uglier anyway. The group fixated in on Strong Bad. This wasn't going to be pretty.

"And who put that hat on him? You!" Shouted The Homestar Runner.

"Now hey hey hey. Let's not point any... Um…" Strong Bad looked down at his gloves. No-one really had fingers. "I didn't really think this out going into this sentence."

"Homestar is right! This is your fault Strong Bad!" Screamed a peeved Bubs. The small crowd started close in on Strong Bad. Strong Bad gulped nervously, this wasn't getting better anytime soon.

"Stop, We shouldn't turn on one another! We need to... Figure out what we are going to do with Homsar's ... remains." Reasoned Marzipan.

They group stopped and stared at Homsar's body. They hadn't a clue in the world what to do with him. No-one knew anything about him, really. Where would they put him? Did he want to be cremated? Did he have family somewhere to contact?

"...Does anyone here even know anything about Homsar?" Coach Z asked hesitantly after a brief moment of silence.

"Not me, that's for sure." Bubs said, his expression suddenly turning to guilt. "I never got to know him... I don't think anyone here did!"

"I've spent time with Homsar before, but I wouldn't have the slightest clue in the world what he wanted to happen after he... Passed." Marzipan said. "I never liked talking about that kind of thing... But now that I think about it, I know someone who does."

At that moment, as if on cue, Strong Sad arrived back at the stage, still wearing his yellow 'security' clothes. He sped up his pace when he noticed the small crowd gathered on stage.

"Oh no, I'm gone for a minute and..." Strong Sad mumbled, trailing off. "Wait... What's going on?"

The others turned to look at Strong Sad with rather sunken, hesitant expressions. They knew he wouldn't take the news well. They stepped back a little to reveal Homsar's burned, lifeless body.

Strong Sad's eyes widened in horror and he hurried over to the body. At first he just stood there, too shocked to move. Eventually tears started welling in his eyes and he fell to his knees in front of the body.

"Wh-Wh-what happened?" asked Strong Sad, on the verge of crying. The response was a garbled mesh of word soup. Strong Sad's face suddenly curled up in anger. He turned towards Strong Bad, with an expression of anger that was really unlike him.

"It was you wasn't it?!" Strong Sad asked, choking up mid-sentence. Strong Bad shuffled about in an awkward way, knowing if anyone was to blame, it was him. Strong Sad turned away and looked down at Homsar's body tears now falling from his eyes.

"You've done some terrible things in your time, but... But this just... Just..." Strong Sad said with a sigh. "You finally did it. You killed him. You killed my only real friend... I hope you're happy now, brother." After Strong Sad said this they all looked at him. All was silent except for the sounds of Strong Sad's weeping.

Everyone looked at each other sadly and uncomfortably. Strong Bad stepped back a little in guilt. Sure, he had tried to harm, or even kill, Homsar several times before, but this time he hadn't intended for Homsar to get hurt at all. It was just a freak accident. Now someone had to come forward and ask Strong Sad the question.

"Uhm, Strong Sad..." Marzipan said softly, clearing her throat a little. "Wh-what are we going to do with him...?

Strong Sad looked up at her with teary eyes, then back down at his dead friend. He'd talked about death a lot with Homsar, so surely the topic of what to do after such an event would have come up at least once. They stood there and waited for Strong Sad to respond. He just sat there for a minute. Nothing moved. It seemed as though the world itself was holding its breath in anticipation.

"...He wants to be buried in the Homsar Reserve, because that's where he always fit in best, and he likes the- um, the sky there. He doesn't know where his parents are... And they were the only family he knew... He doesn't want a big ceremony. He wants a small one and as far as flowers and stuff does... Forget-me-nots. Those were always his favorites..." Strong Sad said never taking his eyes off the corpse that was Homsar.
"O-okay..." Marzipan choked a little, tears welling in her eyes when it occurred to her how little anyone but Strong Sad knew about Homsar.

Strong Sad and Homsar had been the only two willing to frequently spend time with each other. They were each other's only true friends, and now Homsar was dead. In all the years Homsar had been in free country, no-one but Strong Sad had really tried to make a decent conversation with him, or truly listened to his seemingly nonsensical ramblings. And in such a short moment, the very chance to change that had been so cruelly snatched from everyone.

As Homestar tried to comfort Marzipan, he remembered Homsar's answering machine message that played on the somewhat non-existent occasions he would actually give Homsar a call.

"Step right up, I'm a crudely-drawn cupcake! Don't forget your tapesicle!"

As much as Homestar, and almost everyone else, had grown to dislike and avoid that voice, it suddenly pained him to know he'd never hear it again. As the saying goes, you never truly appreciate what you've got until it's gone, and that was a saying Homestar could relate to all too well at that moment. Never more in his life had he longed to pick up that cellphone, dial Homsar's long phone number and have a chat with him, or perhaps even invite him over.

Everyone felt bad. They felt bad for Homsar. They felt bad for Strong Sad. They felt bad for anything and everything bad they ever said to or about Homsar that they would never get to take back or apologize for, but the one who felt the worst of all was Strong Bad.

He knew this was his fault, even if he didn't intend to kill him. He felt bad about all the names he called Homsar. All the times he had tried to kill him, and that he so avidly avoided talking to him.

"Um l-look I-" began Strong Bad.

"I don't want to hear it!" Shouted Strong Sad, not caring to hear his words.

"Look I'm trying to apologize! So shut up and let me talk!" When Strong Bad exclaimed this, everyone stared at him, not believing him at all. "I'm sorry, alright! I didn't mean to kill him! I didn't even really want hurt him! With all crazy logic defying he does on a regular basis I thought he would be fine!" Strong Bad sighed and lowered his voice. "But I really am sorry, Strong Sad... I- I am sorry I killed your friend."
Everyone stared at him in shock, not believing their ears. Strong Sad stayed silent a few moments longer, before he finally spoke.

"I guess I know you didn't mean for this to happen..." Strong Sad sighed. "It just really hurts to know how much you always hated Homsar, and how no-one but me even really knew him."

"That's what I was thinking too..." Marzipan said, shedding some tears. "No-one even tried to understand him but you!"

"I guess we need to go... Bury him now..." Strong Bad said quietly, still in guilt. "This band competition doesn't really matter right now..."

The group made a sound of agreement. Then there was silence, who would carry him? No one really wanted to touch the burnt flesh of another individual, because quite frankly, it was gross.

"Um... We should call someone in for the burying and all." Said Strong Bad. They all nodded in agreement.

. . . . .

This brings us to now. Homsar is in his coffin and they rest if the crew is standing around the coffin, about to say their last goodbyes. Everyone stands around Homsar's coffin, filled with guilt, sadness and regret. The most upset of all is Strong Sad, whose only true friend is now lying deceased inside the coffin.

"If I could turn back time, there are so many things I'd like to change..." Coach Z begins to speak, "But most of all I would have kept Team Kneepads going for longer! You might not have been the best athlete, Homsar, but you showed real good sportsmanship in the footbasket courts..."

"I'm sorry I was ever nasty towards you, Homsar!" Bubs says, tears starting to form in his mismatched eyes. "You really weren't a bad guy at all!"

"My L.U.R.N classes won't be the same without you, Homsar..." Marzipan whispers shakily. "Had I taken the time to know you better, we could have been really good friends..."

"I know we weren't the best of friends, and I wish I had spent more time around you. You were a pretty cool dude, like when you would float and defy logic. Even though we aren't related, you were like... Well, not a brother. More like an estranged cousin... But you get the point. You were like the weird estranged family member I never had. Even though I didn't know you all too well, I'll miss you buddy." Says Homestar, tears leaking from his eyes and his voice cracking slightly.

"That was beautiful, Homestar." Whispers Marzipan. Homestar nods in response.

"Um... Well I'm not sure what to say but... I'm sorry I accidentally killed you. No hard feels? ...Cool. Erm.. Well I'm... I'm sorry I didn't spend a lot of time with you. You may have been a cool dude..." says Strong Bad, feeling guilt laying heavy on his heart.

"...Homsar, I know you already know this, but..." Strong Sad begins, clearing his throat. "You were the best friend I ever had. The only real friend I had, actually. You were the only one willing to listen to sit with me and listen to my long, long, talks about life, death and other philosophical matters... You were the only one who would ever invite me to things, even if I was just a real downer all the time... And I'll never forget those days I spent interpreting and deciphering the odd things you said... We may have been two very different people, but that couldn't keep us from our friendship. I don't think my life will be the same without you, Homsar. Goodbye, friend..."

With Strong Sad's speech done, they start lowering Homsar's coffin into the ground. Everyone is crying now, Homestar is trying to comfort Marzipan, and Bubs and Coach Z are hugging while bawling their eyes out. Strong Bad pats Strong Sad on the back sympathetically and Strong Sad just stands there crying silently.

No-one had ever thought that Homsar would be the first in the community to die. Only now is everyone truly realising how little they respected Homsar. They all have their regrets, things they would change if they could go back to the times before that fateful night, but now it is time to move on and lay Homsar to rest. Maybe now everyone could learn to appreciate each other a little more, because who knows what the future will hold, or how soon any one of them could be robbed of their life in an instant.