Coach Z Emails/big game

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Overview

#11: big game

Coach Z guides the underdogs in a game-o-ball.

CAST: (in order of appearance) Coach Z, Homestar Runner, Strong Sad, Homsar, The Poopsmith, Strong Bad, Strong Mad, The Umpire, Announcer, Marzipan, Blubb-O's Commercial Narrator, The Cheat, Vandemeer and Garglesby (easter egg)

PLACES: The Locker Room, The Court, The Announcer's Booth, The Field

PAGE TITLE: Crusty x86!

DATE: February 28, 2010

Transcript

COACH Z: {typing 'run check'at_email.exe', rapping to the tune of "Wild Thing" by Tone Loc} Bow, b'dow dow, b'dow... e-mail!

subject: not a coach

Dear Mr. Z,
We are the very important company that
gave you your job as a "coach". When we
looked over your reviews, we were shocked.
If you don't get your act in shape, your
out of here. In case you don't understand the
other sentences: COACH A REAL SPORT OR
YOUR FIRED.
Sincerly,
Important Sports Agency

{Coach Z, after reading "gave you your job as 'coach'", begins to skip over sentences until he gets to "COACH A REAL SPORT". Then, he begins to speak in a more frenzied manner.}

COACH Z: {typing} Oh, oh— oh, jeez! I didn't think you guys knew I wasn't coaching sports! I didn't even know I had a, uh, license with you guys! Anyhow, uh, {clears screen} I wish that we actually played sports around here! Because, you know, I think that all we do is practice sports every day. I'm not sure if we've ever even thrown a ball around! {lamenting} Oh, what a sad state of affairs it is for a coach...

{Zoom out to show Homestar Runner walk in.}

HOMESTAR RUNNER: Hey, Coach! You ready for the big tennis match game today?

COACH Z: Wait, we got a tennis team?

HOMESTAR RUNNER: Uh... yeah? You coach us. I'd, uh, think you'd know?

COACH Z: Oh, okay... I must've been out of it while I coached y'all!

{Cut to a flashback of tennis practice. Homestar Runner and Strong Sad are running laps around the court. Coach Z is in the referee's stand, visibly drunk.}

COACH Z: {yelling} You! Rhino Foots!

STRONG SAD: {panting, gasping for air} M—me?

COACH Z: {yelling} Gh— I, uh— shut up.

STRONG SAD: Yes, coach!

HOMESTAR RUNNER: That's right, Strong Sad! How else you gonna score some points? Hit a ball? Swing a racquet?

COACH Z: Now this boy— haha, this boy's got a good idea! You get a medal.

{Coach Z tosses a bottle of "Indian Pale One" at Homestar, and brains him.}

HOMESTAR RUNNER: {voice faltering} Th—thanks, Coach!

{Homestar falls unconscious.}

STRONG SAD: Uh, Coach? I think you gave him a concussion—

COACH Z: {angry} I've got a whole case o'those up there, kid!

{Strong Sad starts sprinting around the track.}

{End flashback.}

HOMESTAR RUNNER: Yeah, those were good times!

COACH Z: So, what'cher sayin' is that you know how to play tennis-ball?

HOMESTAR RUNNER: Abso-posi-definitely!

COACH Z: Cool, great! So who're we playin'?

HOMESTAR RUNNER: Oh, just Strong Bad and Strong Mad. We're playin' doubles!

COACH Z: {worried} Oh, crap! We're facin' the strongest two-o in the tri-county area! And I am certainly counting Vandemeer and Garglesby!

HOMESTAR RUNNER: Oh, I remember them! Good times...!

COACH Z: Homestar, those days are over! What we gotta do is get in shape! We ain't never gonna beat those Strong bros without training!

HOMESTAR RUNNER: But how? The game is today!

COACH Z: Oh, I'll find a way... We'll put some elbow grease into this deal!

HOMESTAR RUNNER: Ew! I don't think I want any part of that, Coach.

{Cut to a tennis court. Coach Z is in the referee's chair while Strong Sad and Homestar are on opposite sides of the court. The two players are decked out in team garb, including sweatbands and, in Homestar's case, a McEnroe afro.}

COACH Z: Alright, kiddos, we gotta get in shape for the game, and we ain't got much time! Now then, we're gonna practice some volleys! Strong Sad, your serve!

{Strong Sad attempts a serve but hits the ball into the net.}

STRONG SAD: Uh... do over?

COACH Z: Homestar, how about you try serving?

HOMESTAR RUNNER: No prob, Coach!

{Homestar does a magnificent serve, but Strong Sad, instead of hitting it back, runs away from the ball.}

COACH Z: Time out, time out! {annoyed} Strong Sad, what was that mess?!

STRONG SAD: It was coming right at my head! I had no choice!

COACH Z: Defend yerself, then! Use the dang racquet!

STRONG SAD: Oh, uh... right. I kinda forgot I had one.

COACH Z: {exasperated} Hoo, boy... Alright, let's try another exercise! Let's bring out... the Robo-SERV!

{From offscreen, The Poopsmith rolls out a trashcan. He sets it down on the court and walks off. The sky darkens, ominously—and to the sound of ambient strings, the lid suddenly starts, making fog pour out of the can. As the fog settles, the lid rises—and, at the crescendo of the music, it is revealed that Homsar is inside the trash can.}

HOMSAR: I'm a miracle man, yeeees I aaaaaaam...

{Homsar opens his mouth wide and a cannon extends from within it. After a quick lull, he begins to shoot tennis balls, rapid-fire.}

STRONG SAD: Oh, geez! Get doooooooown!

{Strong Sad and Homestar duck down and avoid the oncoming volley of tennis balls.}

COACH Z: What are you thinking?! You gotta be offensive! Offend those balls! Offend 'em!

{Homestar nods, slowly.}

HOMESTAR RUNNER: Strong Sad...

STRONG SAD: Y—yes?

HOMESTAR RUNNER: If I die... you can have my room.

{Homestar jumps up, in slow motion, and brandishes his racquet. He then starts hitting the tennis balls, one by one, as fast as lightning. After many balls, it slows down more, and Homestar hits one last one right at Homsar. Homsar swallows the tennis ball, and inexplicably blows up.}

HOMESTAR RUNNER: {pants} Did I do good, Coach?

COACH Z: I dunno, I think you'll need to step up yer game.

STRONG SAD: Coach, I don't think I can do this...!

{Strong Sad takes off his sweatband and drops it on the ground, along with his racquet.}

COACH Z: Wait, what?

STRONG SAD: It's just... I don't think I'm up to snuff, you know? Sports just aren't my bag! So, uh... I think I'm gonna quit.

COACH Z: Good! I was gonna kick you off the team anyhow!

STRONG SAD: Alright, I'll pack my b— wait, what?!

COACH Z: Yeah, I was gonna replace you with The Poopsmith. He's got game, son!

STRONG SAD: {dejectedly} Oh.

{Strong Sad walks off. The Poopsmith walks onscreen short after, wearing a sweatband.}

COACH Z: Alright, you made it! {seriously} Now, let's get serious! The game starts soon, and we only h—

STRONG BAD: Hey, Coach.

{Coach Z turns around to see Strong Bad and Strong Mad on the other side of the court.}

STRONG BAD: The game's starting.

COACH Z: Oh, geez, really?

STRONG BAD: Yeah, uh, we've been waiting for Strong Sad to quit dumping all over everywhere.

STRONG MAD: THAT'S DISGUSTING!

COACH Z: Oh, okay, then!

{The Umpire walks up to the referee's chair.}

THE UMPIRE: Uhhh, yer gonna hafta move yer bottom, guy. That's my seat!

COACH Z: You kiddin'? I ain't movin' my rumpus offa this thing! It's comfortable like nobody's business!

{Quick cut. There are two referee's chairs now, with Coach Z and The Umpire in their own.}

THE UMPIRE: You happy now?

COACH Z: Mos' def!

THE UMPIRE: {quickly} Then how's about a little bit o' GAME ON!

{The Umpire blows a whistle. Cut to the interior of the Announcer's Booth. Outside, one can see an ample crowd in the bleachers, constituted of Homsar, Marzipan, and another Homsar.}

ANNOUNCER: And here we are at scenic A Field, where the first and last annual Free Country Tennis Match-Em-Up Doubles Tournament! Today, we see the bitter rivalry between the Brothers Strong and Homestar Runner {quickly, barely audible} and the Poopsmith {normally} come to an apex in what may be the most heated sports match in all of human history!

{Cut to a view of the court. Homestar is hopping to and fro, getting pumped up. The Poopsmith is clanging his shovel against the court.}

ANNOUNCER: Will Homestar Runner prove his worth once more...?

{Pan over to the other side. Strong Bad is spinning his racquet around, coolly, while Strong Mad is apparently chewing on his.}

ANNOUNCER: ... or will the Brothers Strong come out on top, surprising everyone?

{Cut back to the booth.}

ANNOUNCER: Who knows? I certainly don't!

{Cut to Bubs' Concession Stand. He is watching the game on a portable TV.}

BUBS: Homestar better win this! I got 200 bucks riding on this!

{Cut to the Court.}

THE UMPIRE: Alright, all you! Let's get this game a-started! Homestar's team to serve!

{The tennis ball is bounced over to The Poopsmith. He grabs it in one crud-stained glove, holds it up to his eye, squints, and tosses it into the air. In slow motion, the ball rises, falls, and suddenly collides with The Poopsmith's shovel. From the point of view of the ball, it is shown zooming over the net and toward Strong Bad. Cut to a view of Strong Bad from the side as he hits the tennis ball away. Zoom out to show the two teams hitting the ball back and forth.}

HOMESTAR RUNNER: You ain't got nothing, Strong Ba'! You got less' than nothing! You got negative-tons of skill!

STRONG BAD: You're lucky we got a net separating us two, Homestar, or I'd take this racquet right to your gut!

{Cut to the Announcer's booth.}

ANNOUNCER: What a tense, tents game! Sweat is pouring down the small of my back like the fingers of a massage parlor temptress!

STRONG BAD: {offscreen, faintly} Aaaaaaaugh.

ANNOUNCER: Let's take a look at some player stats, why not?

{Cut to a view of Strong Bad playing.}

ANNOUNCER: {offscreen, voice over} Strong Bad's got exactly zero wins under his belt! However, he's playing a strong game so far!

STRONG BAD: That's right, and this time I'm gonna win!

{Cut to a view of Homestar. He is serving the ball.}

ANNOUNCER: {offscreen, voice over} And here we have Homestar Runner, America's golden boy, back once again after his retirement! Will he ever live down the tragic loss of '87? Will he ever avenge his lost partner, Strong Sad?

HOMESTAR RUNNER: {sobbing} I'll always remember him in my dreams! If only the bus stopped before it was too late...!

{Cut back to the Announcer's booth.}

ANNOUNCER: Yes, it's certainly a heated match! So heated, that I need a cool, refreshing drink! That's why we recommend Coach Z's own: Sog Dog!

{The Sog Dog logo appears.}

BLUBB-O'S COMMERCIAL NARRATOR: {offscreen} That's right, the Sog Dog. It's the meal... mmmthat eats like a soup!

COACH Z: {offscreen} Mmmm... drink in that bun!

{Suddenly, with a record scratch, the logo disappears and the frame shakes. The sound of an audience gasping can be heard from outside the booth.}

ANNOUNCER: Goodness gracious! It looks like there's been an accident on the court!

{Cut to the court, where The Poopsmith is holding his shin in pain. He is holding up a sign that says "AAAAAAAAAAAA".}

ANNOUNCER: {offscreen} The Poopsmith has taken a devastating blow to the shin from what looks like a passing-by The Cheat!

{Cut to the Field, where The Cheat is driving in a golf cart, holding a baseball bat. He squeaks in happiness.}

STRONG BAD: Wow! I had, like, nothing to do with that! Looks like I lucked out, huh?

{Coach Z hops off his seat and runs up to The Poopsmith.}

COACH Z: Oh, geez! The Poopsmith, you okay?

{The Poopsmith shakes his head.}

COACH Z: {yelling} Somebody get this man a hot ice-pack! {to The Poopsmith} Don't worry, man, you'll be good by tomorrow!

{The Poopsmith holds up a sign that says "WHYYY? WHYYY?". He is now wearing ice skates, for some reason.}

COACH Z: Oh, shoot... do we have any back-up players?

HOMESTAR RUNNER: I don't, uh... I don't think so, Coach! I mean, you fired Strong Sad...!

STRONG BAD: So, what's this mean? Do we win?

{The Umpire gets down from his referee's chair.}

THE UMPIRE: Alright, alright, kids, settle down! We'll give Homestar's team a timeout to find themselves a new player!

COACH Z: Awww, dangit! We're screwed, Homestar!

HOMESTAR RUNNER: Oh, cuh-rap... Wait a minute!

COACH Z: Hm?

HOMESTAR RUNNER: Coach, I think I has the solution!

{Homestar runs offscreen.}

COACH Z: Ohhh, I hope he's solution works...!

{Suddenly, Homestar runs back onscreen, holding Strong Sad above his head. He plops Strong Sad unceremoniously onto the court.}

STRONG SAD: I don't even want to be here! I thought I was kicked off the team!

COACH Z: Strong Sad? This is yer plan, Homestar?

HOMESTAR RUNNER: Oh, don't you worry!

{Homestar makes a sly look at the camera.}

HOMESTAR RUNNER: I think we gots a good shot of winnin' this thing!

{Cut to the court, after the game. Homestar and Strong Sad are holding "WHY YOU CAME!" trophies.}

COACH Z: I can't believe we lost...

HOMESTAR RUNNER: Oh, don't worry about that! At least we got participation trophies!

{Homestar jumps into the air, legs crossed, to the ending music from Strongest Man in the World Contest.}

COACH Z: This... this ain't worth my time...

{Coach Z walks off, miserably.}

HOMESTAR RUNNER: {pause} Uh, Strong Sad? {panicking} I think I'm stuck up here?

STRONG SAD: Oh, geez! {yelling} Somebody get him a hot cold-compress!

HOMESTAR RUNNER: {sadly} Strong Sad, if I die... you can't have my room...! {normal} I got some important sweatpants in there!

{The Napkin descends.}

HOMESTAR RUNNER: Oh! Grody napkin man! Help me down!

{Homestar grabs the Napkin with his mouth. He then spits it out.}

HOMESTAR RUNNER: P'too! Ewww, tastes like Strong Sad's nasty ethnic lunch!

STRONG SAD: Awww, you ate that? I was saving that for later...!

Easter Eggs

  • Click on Homestar's star after the email ends to see a signed photograph of two Danish men.
    • Good times! - Vandemeer & Garglesby
  • Click on Strong Sad's head after the email ends to see a small extra scene.

Easter Egg Transcript

{Cut to a shot of a bottle or two of "Indian Pale Ones".}

BLUBB-O'S COMMERCIAL NARRATOR: Indian Pale Ones... because you'd like to fool yourself into thinking you're drinking exotic brew. Keep dreamin', kid!

Fun Facts

  • The secondary slogan for the Sog Dog is a mix-up on the Chunky soup tagline: "the soup that eats like a meal".
  • The Poopsmith's accident refers to the Tonya Harding incident, when Nancy Kerrigan was attacked at the 1994 Figure Skating Championship. The Poopsmith's sign, in fact, exclaiming "WHYYY" is a reference to footage of the event.



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