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Strong bad: Oh crap, my computer is dead! | Strong bad: Oh crap, my computer is dead! | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | =Thy Dungeonman Instruction Manual= | ||
+ | ''by [[Lem Sportsinterviews]]'' | ||
+ | |||
+ | <div style="width:50%;font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:115%"> | ||
+ | Chapter 1 | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Wake yourself, boy!" grasped the old codger, sloshing a mug of cool, refreshing oatmeal square in the young man's face. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Panicked, Collagen jolted up quickly from his bedroll of pulled pigeon, whole oats oozing from the patchy beard in his tender face of five and five and five years. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "I love wagons!" he cried deliriously, wiping a sleep eye out of an oatmeal into his bleary eyes. The room was dark. The silver sheen on the stone walls told Collagen that the moon was still up in the autumn sky outside, and a dull clanking announced that the barmess downstairs was gathering up the stoneware, about to close the plotting gentry for the night. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "It must be around two full ticks past night's middle!" he thought to himself, wondering what could be so important that it couldn't wait until morning's griddle. "What is it, uncle?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | The old man didn't respond and just sat blinking, as if each closing of his gray eyes added a protective layer between himself and the life-altering news he knew he had to impart on this oat-slick boy. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Uncle?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "A dungeon's been murdered." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Collagen sucked in breath, and a couple of oats actually, causing himself to choke. "A dungeon? But how?" he sputtered. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Of course ye'd ask that. Youth... always questioning how a dank room what smelling for the holding and torturing of prisoners could ever be alive in the first place, so as to be eligible for the act of murderin'! You lot with your trendy jangled jester hats and your—" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Uncle Prevacid!" barked Collagen, sounding suddenly one and two years older. "I believe you!" the boy said softly, and laid a hand on his uncle's, immediately thinking better of it after his fingers touched something warm and jelly-like. He shifted his hands to Prevacid's knees— no, no, that was worse. He withdrew his hand altogether. "Which dungeon?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | "The Roost of Rummington, poor devil. And it was due for an adventure next feast-harvest! Mighta been ''your'' first dungeon if—" Collagen's uncle stopped short. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "''My'' first dungeon?" the boy stiffened. "But I'm just a son of a son of a savmonger! What's a murdered dungeon — or any dungeon for that matter got to do with me?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | Prevacid attempted to soften, but it clearly hurt, so he went back to ornery and sighed, "It isn't your father ''or'' your grandfather that's important!" The old man leaned closer, a streak of moonlight cutting jagged across his jagged face, effectively cancelling out any jaggedness. "Your mother was a dungeonwoman." | ||
+ | |||
+ | If Collagen had been holding the mug of oatmeal, he would've dropped it to the floor and it would've shattered to great dramatic effect. Since he was only holding the hem of his flea-ridden burlap blanket, he dropped that instead and it just kinda went, "phfff" into his lap, although this action had a devastating effect on the fleas. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "But father always said me marm was a bookstacker! Plain and dimpled, with a sallow face and a disposition like an unremarkable tree. He said such lovely things about her." | ||
+ | |||
+ | "It was all on her orders! She didn't want the dungeon life for you! Too much danger and not enough Vitamin D! So she made your dad promise that when he made verbal her memory, it would sound like she was pleasant enough. A loving marm and a right perpendicular bookstacker, but fierce plain, it was not to merit any further investigations into her past." | ||
+ | |||
+ | Collagen reeled, his gaze wandering about the room trying to find an anchor on which to hang this new reality, although a coat hook would've been more appropriate. |
Revision as of 02:24, 14 May 2020
Dear Strong the Bad,
You are so awesome,
but you would be awesome when your on the television channel
"camera"
Woefully yours,
Kristian WithaK
Contents |
See Also
- Pie
- Pi
- Pie charts
- Pie Factory
- Magnum, P.I.
- Eustice Pietimer
- The Old Pietimer Place
- Mr. Pitters
- Piemonade
- Pile
- Pizza
- The moon
Axes
Axes are sharp weapons which can be brought into battle or be used for splitting things in two. Also, as "axe" is a synonym for a type of guitar, many skilled guitarists are able to shred on their axes and chop with their guitars.
Appearances
- Some Stupid Turkey — An axe swings down from Hammerspace to chop off the head of Strong Bad's turkey costume.
- Email dragon — Trogdor the man holds a large battle axe.
- Teen Girl Squad Issue 5 — President George Washington holds an axe.
- Email other days — On Sundays, Strong Bad claims he takes Battle Axe lessons with Dolph Hauldhagen at the rec center.
- Lappynapped! — A flyer advertising Dolph Hauldhagen's battle axe lessons appears on the bulletin board; an Easter egg has him leaving a message on Strong Bad's answering machine.
- Email slumber party — One of the slumber party games Strong Bad likes to play is Bed Axe.
- Email rated — One of the triple-R-rated movies Strong Bad lists is called Axe-Gun, Legends of the Brain-Outener.
- Email your edge — Strong Bad has several axes in his arsenal of edge-havery.
- Baddest of the Bands — The King of Town's guitar is so sharp, he wields it like an axe to help Strong Bad cut a rope.
- Crystal Fortress — Strong Bad transforms the Stave It Off Guy into a frightful heavy metal musician, complete with a guitar resembling a sharp axe.
- Xeriously Forxe — The Smith carries an axe in place of a shovel.
- Marzipan's Answering Machine Version 17.2 — A hanging axe is one of many items used in Strong Bad's phone-prank booby trap.
- Trogdor Was Dragon Man — Trogdor the man returns with his axe. He plays it like a guitar.
- 05 Oct 2018 — Some of the characters in Swordguys Versus Skullguys are seen wielding axes.
See Also
Candles
Candles are used to set the mood for romantic nights and seances.
Appearances
- Email making out — Strong Bad suggests using candles and wine to entice the sender's boyfriend into making out with her.
- Email 50 emails — Strong Bad's 50th email is celebrated with a swiss cake roll with a candle on it.
- Strong Bad is in Jail Cartoon — Strong Sad sets up a candle as part of his Tai Chi space.
- Email fingers — One of the fingers Strong Bad puts on his boxing gloves is a candle. Coach Z takes notice. Strong Bad claims that it keeps him warm at night.
- 3 Times Halloween Funjob — A group of candles is set on Marzipan's table for her seance.
- Halloween Fairstival — Candles accompany Strong Sad's Haunted Haikus.
- Email do over — Strong Bad re-enacts the sisters email by setting a candle on the desk.
- Date Nite — The Cheat and Marzipan have a candlelit dinner at Marshmallow's Last Stand.
- Play Date — The King of Town has a candlelit dinner at Marshmallow's Last Stand with Brunswick stew.
- Email lady...ing — Strong Bad's surefire method to attract a lady is to host a candlelit dinner with caviar burritos and the finest cigars.
- Email love poems — Strong Bad uses the names of scented candles as inspiration for romantic similes.
- Homestar Ruiner — When examining the showers, Strong Bad tells the player he prefers a bubble bath with scented candles.
- Strong Badia The Free — Strong Bad is impressed that the King of Town had eaten the candles off his candelabra but left the flames.
- Place Ya Bets — Homestar Runner attends a Deleteheads meeting with a bundle of red candles meant to look like dynamite.
- A Decemberween Mackerel — Marzipan holds a candle as she sings Decemberween carols.
See Also
Nouns
Frequently seen in the Homestar Runner Universe.
Apppearances
- Yearbook Character Page — An early appearance.
- Strong Bad Sings — Featured prominently.
- Senor Mortgage — Featured hilariously.
- Email other days — Featured commonly.
- 8-Bit Is Enough — A SBCG4AP appearance.
- Email unnatural — Another appearance.
- @StrongBadActual — Joke revisited on Twitter years later.
See Also
YOUR PC HAS ENCOUNTERED A FATAL ERROR
AND HAS BEEN SHUT DOWN COMPLETELY
Strong bad: Oh crap, my computer is dead!
Thy Dungeonman Instruction Manual
Chapter 1
"Wake yourself, boy!" grasped the old codger, sloshing a mug of cool, refreshing oatmeal square in the young man's face.
Panicked, Collagen jolted up quickly from his bedroll of pulled pigeon, whole oats oozing from the patchy beard in his tender face of five and five and five years.
"I love wagons!" he cried deliriously, wiping a sleep eye out of an oatmeal into his bleary eyes. The room was dark. The silver sheen on the stone walls told Collagen that the moon was still up in the autumn sky outside, and a dull clanking announced that the barmess downstairs was gathering up the stoneware, about to close the plotting gentry for the night.
"It must be around two full ticks past night's middle!" he thought to himself, wondering what could be so important that it couldn't wait until morning's griddle. "What is it, uncle?"
The old man didn't respond and just sat blinking, as if each closing of his gray eyes added a protective layer between himself and the life-altering news he knew he had to impart on this oat-slick boy.
"Uncle?"
"A dungeon's been murdered."
Collagen sucked in breath, and a couple of oats actually, causing himself to choke. "A dungeon? But how?" he sputtered.
"Of course ye'd ask that. Youth... always questioning how a dank room what smelling for the holding and torturing of prisoners could ever be alive in the first place, so as to be eligible for the act of murderin'! You lot with your trendy jangled jester hats and your—"
"Uncle Prevacid!" barked Collagen, sounding suddenly one and two years older. "I believe you!" the boy said softly, and laid a hand on his uncle's, immediately thinking better of it after his fingers touched something warm and jelly-like. He shifted his hands to Prevacid's knees— no, no, that was worse. He withdrew his hand altogether. "Which dungeon?"
"The Roost of Rummington, poor devil. And it was due for an adventure next feast-harvest! Mighta been your first dungeon if—" Collagen's uncle stopped short.
"My first dungeon?" the boy stiffened. "But I'm just a son of a son of a savmonger! What's a murdered dungeon — or any dungeon for that matter got to do with me?"
Prevacid attempted to soften, but it clearly hurt, so he went back to ornery and sighed, "It isn't your father or your grandfather that's important!" The old man leaned closer, a streak of moonlight cutting jagged across his jagged face, effectively cancelling out any jaggedness. "Your mother was a dungeonwoman."
If Collagen had been holding the mug of oatmeal, he would've dropped it to the floor and it would've shattered to great dramatic effect. Since he was only holding the hem of his flea-ridden burlap blanket, he dropped that instead and it just kinda went, "phfff" into his lap, although this action had a devastating effect on the fleas.
"But father always said me marm was a bookstacker! Plain and dimpled, with a sallow face and a disposition like an unremarkable tree. He said such lovely things about her."
"It was all on her orders! She didn't want the dungeon life for you! Too much danger and not enough Vitamin D! So she made your dad promise that when he made verbal her memory, it would sound like she was pleasant enough. A loving marm and a right perpendicular bookstacker, but fierce plain, it was not to merit any further investigations into her past."
Collagen reeled, his gaze wandering about the room trying to find an anchor on which to hang this new reality, although a coat hook would've been more appropriate.