Coach Z Emails/qna
From Homestar Runner Fanstuff Wiki
Overview
Q & A with S & Z: A Sit-Down with America's Sweethearts
Skubby and Coach answer some questions in an interview with the mag'zine. Colored text!
DATE: February 23, 2010
Transcript
Over the years, Coach Z has been out of the spotlight—and for good reason. I've seen him do things that are... unspeakable. I'm pretty sure he should be doing life for that stuff. Regardless, I (Strong Bad) think he deserves an interview! After all, we've gotta incriminate him somehow. Also, some fat guy was with him. I think he might be his parole officer but I really don't want to check.
SB: Hey, Coach. Fat guy.
CZ: Howdy, Strong Man!
Skub: Oh my God, where am I? Where's my house?!
SB: So, first dang question. Why you doin' these emails?
CZ: Is that for, like, just me? Or—
SB: Both of you, I guess.
CZ: Well, I'm doin' this show because honestly, I need some dang screen time! I ain't just content with bein' creepy on your show, you know! I want to showcase my own antics, my own depressing life! It's a way for me to get out there and say, "hey, world! I'm a 40-something-year-old man with absolutely nothing to lose and I'll break my bones for money!"
Skub: Well, uh... I don't know why I'm writing them! I mean, I remember being on this stupid website years ago, before that big catastrophe all those kids are whining about. I used to write horrible fan fictions about, like, a duck or something? And those are gone and I couldn't be happier.
SB: No idea what you're talking about, gonna be honest.
Skub: Thanks. Anyhow, I think I'm writing these because honestly, I love working with Coach Z. I just like his personality, and writing dialogue for him and the rest of the dumb animals is just a really nice exercise as a writer.
SB: You're still just writing fan fiction. Please, tell me why you're better than Strong Sad!
Skub: I don't feel like I, uh, need to answer that one, Strong Bad!
SB: Alright, wuss. Next question!
Skub: Wait, wh—
SB: This one's for Coach. What's your favorite part of working with this peach-fuzzed weirdo?
CZ: Well, I gotta say, gettin' a steady paycheck is probably the best part of all this!
SB: You get paid?!
CZ: What, don't you?
SB: No! No I don't get—I've done more than 200 of these stupid things and I haven't seen one dollar from—
CZ: You know, I also get dental for this!
SB: You don't even have teeth! ... Wait, does anybody have teeth here?
Skub: I think I do...? I mean, I haven't checked in a while.
CZ: Yeah, workin' with this kid here, it's pretty dang swanky! It's the first great thing to ever happen to me! And I'm certainly counting my "not guilty" verdict!
SB: Mrgh... lucky sonuva... hmph! Next question. This one's for Coach again.
CZ: Lay it on me!
SB: Listen, this has been bugging me for a while, so just bear with me here. ... Are you wearing pajamas or is that, like, green skin?
CZ: Do you really wanna know?
SB: ... Aaaagh! Never mind, I don't wanna know! At all!
Skub: Eurgh. I'm gonna need therapy after this.
SB: Alright, let's ask the fat girl a question this time.
Skub: What?!
SB: Okay, so what got you into this horrible hive of scum and villainy that is a fan community?
Skub: Honestly? I cannot, for the life of me, remember. I think maybe I was looking up a Peasant's Quest walkthrough? Maybe... a Thy Dungeonman strategy guide...
SB: You're fat and a video gamer? Oh, man, throwin' me a curveball, here!
Skub: Whatever. Point is, I got sucked in with the promises of making Homestar say whatever I want him to, which, in my defense! is pretty awesome.
SB: Ha! You've got a point there!
CZ: You know, I wrote some fan fiction once!
SB: Absolutely do not want to know.
CZ: No, listen to this title! It's called-a: "A Midsummer's Night Beneath the Gazebo"! It's about—
SB: (Editor's note: At this point, there was a pretty large stain of something on the page, so we couldn't salvage much of anything. Strong Bad assured us that it was perfectly natural and that we 'had to be there, man'. I guess we had to.)
CZ: (illegible) sale and manufacture of corncob pipes!
SB: Interesting, interesting! Please, go on!
CZ: Nah, I don't have that much time to spare! Maybe some other time, o'er a cold one or eight!
SB: Maybe, maybe. Next question! This is for that scraggle-haired guy over there.
Skub: I have a... I have a name.
SB: True, but do I really care enough?
Skub: Good point.
SB: Anyhow, question. If you and Strong Sad were in a dump-off, who would win?
Skub: Well, Strong Sad, duh. He's like a landfill, he so dumpy.
SB: Agreed.
Skub: What is a dump-off, by the way?
SB: Final question!
Skub: Can you answer my question f—
SB: This is for both of you!
CZ: Oh, boy!
SB: Who here's the fastest?
Skub: Well, me, probably, seeing as I'm so y— wait, why are you asking?
SB: So I know who's going to be the lame wildebeest in my safari!
CZ: Kid, you might wanna get a head start!
At this-a point-a, I took out the elephant gun and started my headhunt! But, I was... I kinda ran out of elephant shot. Pity, too. That kid's tusks coulda sold for thousands! I think he had tusks, at least. All in all, it was a startling, tantalizing look into the psyche of a middle-aged man, and I don't think I'll ever come out quite the same. I'll be starting the SSRIs on Monday.
- SB
