From Work With Deleted Scene

''{Close-up of the lower half of Strong Bad's face. He holds his hand over his mouth.}''

STRONG BAD: {whispering} Shhh! Shut up, you guys! I'm checkin' email from work today, and I can't let The Man know what I'm up to!

{Cut to Strong Bad typing on a computer with a grey monitor that reads "Corpy NT6"}

STRONG BAD: {singing} Oh, tiptoe your fingers 'cross the keyboard for the quietest email you can check.

''{The DELETED buzzer is heard. An error message with a picture of a hand blocking a basketball appears with the text "BLOCKED! Back to work, drone!" The box shakes when the buzzer plays.}''

STRONG BAD: {typing} Oh, man. They got everything blocked now. Even those awesome pop-up insurance ads with the cool mini-games in 'em. I tasered that gnome like ten times! {stops typing} Good thing The Cheat hooked me up with this Cheatware!

{Strong Bad holds up a yellow 3.5" diskette with black spots; the label reads "Cheatware ver. 2.1" and has an ASCII-art-like* drawing of The Cheat. He puts it in the computer. The computer makes a whirring sound and the text "Grandmaw Edgar's Corporate Firewall Get-Arounder" appears on the screen with a picture of an old woman and a brick wall. A short synth-banjo tune plays. The screen changes to an animation of the old woman pole vaulting over the wall into an envelope. The words "Running..." appears at the top and changes to "Done and done." as the animation finishes. A progress bar at the bottom progresses from yellow to red.}

STRONG BAD: Oh, nice work, pixel-Granny! Undermine those corporate oppressors on witcha bad self! {brings up email}

 Dear Strong Bad, If you could have any job in the whole world, regardless of how much it pays, what would you have? From The Nitwon

{Strong Bad reads "The Nitwon" as "The Nittle One"}

STRONG BAD: {typing} You ask like I haven't told you guys a million times... {drumroll sounds; Strong Bad clears screen} I'd be a 2nd 2nd Assistant Space Whale Scrubber! {"tada" sound effect; the words "Space Whale Scrubber" flash in many colors} Cause those are the ones that get to wear that glittery pantsuit and use a lazormop to scrub all the nudules and crudules off the whale's dorsal ridge! ''{Crickets chirp. Strong Bad looks around.}'' Umm, shouldn't we be seeing some of this by now?

BUBS: {offscreen, imitating buzzer noise} Baghh!

{Cut to view of Bubs standing behind Strong Bad, who is facing him}

BUBS: Sorry, Strong Bad! The suits had me install a firewall on your imagination! All that free thinking was wasting the company's cost money!

{Close up of Strong Bad's face}

STRONG BAD: Oh, that's it! I am totally never gonna quit this job but start complaining about it a little bit more! {he thumps the desk with his fist four times}

{Back to view of Strong Bad and Bubs}

BUBS: Well, I'd better get back to taserin' that gnome! Err, I mean, {Bubs starts walking offscreen} upgrading the... taserin' that gnome! ...server.

{Return to view of Strong Bad in front of the Corpy}

STRONG BAD: {typing} Well, I guess I could try and describe it using work approved methods. Let's see: ''{clears screen, brings up a blank graph. Continues typing, the words appear in red above the graph}'' Why 2nd 2nd Assistant Space-Whale Scrubber is My Dream Job. {an image of a space-whale appears in the background} Twenty percent pantsuit, {a green bar comes up from the bottom of the graph with "20%" written on it and "pantsuit" written under it} seventeen percent space-whale proximity... {a shorter purple bar comes up with "17%" written on it and "space-whale proximity" written under it}

STRONG BAD: All right, so where were we? Oh yeah. {typing} 2% Crudules, 2% {unintelligible} Whale milk... {unintelligible}...

''{Vacuum cleaner noise drowns out Strong Bad. Cut to Coach Z vacuuming Strong Bad's cubicle. Strong Bad continues typing and mumbling unintelligibly under the vacuum}''

COACH Z: {singing} Doe-da-doot doo. Doo. Da-doo-da-doooo.

{Strong Bad stops typing and Coach Z shuts off the vacuum.}

COACH Z: Hey dere, salaried employee.

STRONG BAD: {lowers his eyelids} Auuugh. 'Sup, hourly wage?

COACH Z: I couldn't help but notice you're checkin' one a yer emails dere. Boy, do I have some good ideas for words ta type in an email.

STRONG BAD: Yeah, sorry, I'm not really takin' suggestions right now.

COACH Z: Aww, dat's too bad. Sure would be unfarchunate if yer boss found out you was checkin' yer Sbemails at work!

STRONG BAD: {exasperated} All right, all right! What do you want me to type?

COACH Z: Ooh, great! {scratching his head} Okay, lessee...

''{Coach Z spells out his word. As he says each letter, Strong Bad types it and it appears superimposed over the bottom of the frame.}''

COACH Z: P... f... a... r... g... t... l? Is that a word?

STRONG BAD: {pronouncing each letter as he sounds it out} "Pfargtl?"

COACH Z: Yeah! Is that a word?

{Strong Bad hits his head on the keyboard, sending the superimposed letters flying.}

STRONG BAD: Does it sound like a word?

COACH Z: Well I dunno... I only know a few.

STRONG BAD: {looking up} Oh, dan... guh. Dang. Oh dang! I think some customer service rep just puked up her microwave lasagna! You'd better go sprinkle sawdust all over it.

COACH Z: This is what I live for!!

{Coach Z runs off, dragging the vacuum cleaner after him}

STRONG SAD: {offscreen} Hey, cube neighbor!

{Cut to Strong Sad looking at Strong Bad over the side of his cubicle}

STRONG SAD: My work staysh is asking me if I want to log off or log out. Which one do I choose?

STRONG BAD: Pffft! Stupid temp. You don't know the difference between logging off and logging out?

STRONG SAD: Well, no. Back when I was in charge of the {starts drumming his fingers} schwa sound at dictionary.com they used to...

STRONG BAD: {interrupting} Look, just hold down escape, control, tab, alt, both shifts, num lock and the little squiggly until your screen turns blue. Then, stare at it until your shift ends.

STRONG SAD: Oh, thanks!

''{Strong Sad goes back down into his own cubicle. Cut back to Strong Bad in front of the Corpy. The chart has gone away.}''

STRONG BAD: {typing} Okay. Back to the, back to the sbemail. Let's talk about dorsal ridges!

HOMESTAR RUNNER: You wanna know what&mdash;

{Cut to Homestar Runner behind Strong Bad}

HOMESTAR RUNNER: &mdash;my dream job would be?

STRONG BAD: No. I mean, no. I mean, no.

HOMESTAR RUNNER: I'd be the guy&mdash;

{Cut to a shot of blue sky with clouds, as happy fantasy music plays in the background}

HOMESTAR RUNNER: &mdash;that flies around {Homestar Runner falls onto and starts riding a large flying goldfish} on that big plastic goldfish, {an oversized toothbrush appears next to Homestar, who uses it to paint clouds in the sky} painting the clouds with an oversized novelty toothbrush!

STRONG BAD: Hey! How come your imagination's working?

''{Homestar stops painting clouds, and the music stops. Cut back to Homestar Runner and Strong Bad}''

HOMESTAR RUNNER: Oh, I got admin privileges! It helps when you're best friends with the Big Cheese!

{Zoom out; An annoyed Pom Pom is behind Homestar with sunglasses above his eyes and carrying a bicycle with the text "[...]IG CHEESE"}

POM POM: {bubble noises}

HOMESTAR RUNNER: Agh! {jumps, turns around} The Big Cheese!

POM POM: {bubble noises}

HOMESTAR RUNNER: {bends over with a downtrodden look} Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. Right away, sir. Hallelujah, sir. {Pom Pom begins to bounce away, with Homestar shuffling behind him} I'll have that DNA evidence on your desk by five.

{Back to Strong Bad in front of the Corpy}

STRONG BAD: Nevermind, Nitwit. Checking sbemails at the office is not worth the trouble. I dunno how all those bloggers do it. Oh well. I guess I'd better get back to woik.

{Screen clears; a message appears saying "Would you like to:"; there are two buttons, one that says "Log off", one that says "Log out"}.

STRONG BAD: {mumbles, typing noises} 'Scape... tab... squiggly... {with each type, a word appears onscreen: "esc.ctrl.tab.alt.shift.shift.numlock.~.<"}



''{The Paper comes down. After about 7 seconds, Strong Bad continues:}''

STRONG BAD: Oh, gonna be a long one. I haven't even taken my first sit-in-the-men's-room-and-play-Tetris-for-an-hour break yet.