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STRONG BAD: (To the tune of Dr. Feelgood by Motley Crue) I'm the one they call Dr. Email! I'm the one that makes you feel alright!

Sup Bad? Can you form a band? If you're good, it'll get you lots of girls!

Sam, NJ (Read as "Not James")

STRONG BAD; Well James, luckily I have both of those things. I have a band and I have girls, but that's another email from the not-so-near future.

STRONG SAD: (offscreen) Strong Bad, you don't even know any girls!

STRONG BAD: Shut up, Heffalump! I'm gonna send my pack of wild girls after you!

STRONG SAD: Strong Bad, that's totally messed up.

STRONG BAD: So what? (Turns back to computer) So yeah, I do have a band, but nowadays it doesn't matter how good you are, it just matters how prancey you act on stage. How else would Homestar score a number one hit in Bulgaria?

(Cut to Homestar on a stage, prancing around with a techno beat playing in the background.)

HOMESTAR RUNNER: (singing weakly) Orange marmalade! Orange marmalade!

(Cut back to the computer room.)

STRONG BAD: So that's why I take prancing lessons. Why, I think my first lesson is now!

STRONG SAD: It's in three weeks, Strong Bad!

STRONG BAD: Oh. Well, I guess I'll just break the fourth wall by announcing that I'm gonna speed up time in this cartoon. ZOIP!

(Cut to a black screen that reads "Sometime around 3 weeks later...")

(Cut to Bub's Concession Stand at night. Bubs is teaching Strong Bad how to prance.)

BUBS: Alright now. If you listen to my expert rambling for a few weeks, you'll be prancing like pro!

STRONG BAD: (Sarcastically) Cool. I always wanted to be a professional prancer when I grew up.

BUBS: But first I'm gonna give you a bona-fide proxample!

STRONG BAD: A whatxample?

(Pan to a stage next to the stand. The stage lights up, and Django comes out from behind the curtain and prances along with classical music.)

(Cut to Homestar Runner walking in the field.)

HOMESTAR RUNNER; Ooh, a prancefest! I'll just join in!

(Homestar jumps onstage and starts to sing his "orange marmalade" song from before.)

(Cut back to the computer room.)

STRONG BAD: James, I have a confession. I don't have a band, and I never will. The whole business is messed up, y'know? Also, one more thing. I'm quite scared of prancing now. Hopefully the paper will blanket me and hide me from my fears.

(The paper comes down, farther than usual, covering the whole screen.)

STRONG BAD: I didn't mean it seriously! If I wanna be warm, I light my pants on fire! Sheesh!

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