Weirdoes in Paradise
By Hysterical Woman
Disclaimer: The characters and settings depicted wherein were created by the Brothers Chap. The actual story was written by me. The characters and conception on the Isle of Pom were created by me as well, though you can borrow them with permission. If you want to use this story for MSTing purposes, please e-mail me at hysterical underscore woman at yahoo dot com.
Chapter 4: Life, Love, and the Beach
Pom-Pom walked into the sunlit veranda where his friends were eating brunch on the elegant cast-iron tables. They talked excitedly amongst themselves. Homestar Runner saw him first and ran over to him.
“Pom-Pom!” he said, “You should have been there! After the party there was another party and this time it was a good one!”
“Yeah,” added Bubs, “These guys threw a big block party and everyone put their weight on!”
“Meh! Meh!” cried the Cheat.
“The girls were all up on me,” boasted Strong Bad, “When I talked to them they were all in a hurry to tell their friends about me, or get me more punch, or go to dentists’ appointments so their breath wouldn’t stink. I’m liking this island.”
Strong Sad said, “Some guy threw up on me, I fell in the sewer, and someone spiked my drink and I spent the night fighting penguins.”
“You should have been there!” repeated Homestar.
“It was the best party I’ve ever been to,” said Strong Sad.
Pom-Pom thought about all this. The party did sound great, but crown princes couldn’t go to street parties, even ones in their honor. When he was young and stupid, he had tried to visit the people in disguise, but everyone saw through it. They would treat him like an invisible elephant in the middle of a room. They were too afraid to hurt him in anyway. It hurt.
Anyway, he couldn’t cut loose last night because he was too wound up with anger. At first he was angry at himself, but now he was firmly enraged at his brother. How dare he tell him what to do? Pam-Pom hadn’t lived a day in his life, so why should he control Pom-Pom’s life? He was going to have fun today with his friends, not worry about annoying brothers.
“Why don’t we go to the beach?” he said.
Everyone agreed and soon they were off to Coral Cliff. It happened to be a lovely day to go to the beach. The sun was shinning on the pink sands, warming the calm clear waters to the perfect degree. The beach was not too crowded, but there were enough people splashing and playing to keep things lively. Pom-Pom knew they would have enough fun to spite a thousand meddlesome younger brothers.
Pom-Pom still had to bring two guards with him. It was awkward bringing along men in black suits to a beach and having them stand impassively as if at a funeral. When he was a kid he took it for granted, but now it seemed creepy.
Unlike the guards, everyone else was ready to run off and have fun. Pom-Pom had other ideas.
“Stop!” he yelled, “I want a picture of everyone!”
“Make it quick,” grumbled Strong Bad.
“Don’t worry; it’ll just be a few seconds.”
Of course, getting ten crazy and easily distracted people to pose under the sweltering sun for the perfect wish-you-were-here, Christmas-card-for-grandma photo takes some time. After 15 minutes of wrangling and roping, the picture was perfect except for one thing.
“Aren’t you going to be in the picture?” asked Homestar Runner.
Pom-Pom handed his camera to one of the guards and got in the picture alongside his best friend Homestar.
““Just press the button on the top!” explained Pom-Pom.
The guard did this and captured the moment: eleven weirdoes in their beach gear, Homestar with his striped leotard, Marzipan in her modest swimming gown, Coach Z wearing an ugly Hawaiian shirt and floppy sandals, The Cheat with goggles and a swimming cap, Strong Mad showing off his chest hairs, Strong Bad showing his six-pack but not his knees in long black trunks, Strong Sad not showing anything in a dark blue hoodie, Bubs with a better looking shirt than Coach Z, the Poopsmith in a wetsuit, the King of Town in a sunhat eating a corndog, what appears to be Homsar sledding in the distance, and Pom-Pom taking off his sunglasses for the picture. It was a great portrait and a shame the lens cap was on.
As everyone went off to play, Coach Z broke the news to Pom-Pom.
“Mr. Mephisto throwing a party for me this afternoon,” he said.
“Mr. Mephisto?” asked Pom-Pom.
“Yeah, he’s the CEO of Faustus Records.”
“Faustus Records?”
“Yeap.”
“Mr. Mephisto of Faustus Records?”
“Yessir.”
“Umm, just be careful.”
“Okey dokey,” said Coach Z, giving him a naïve thumbs up.
Pom-Pom went off to enjoy a nice float in the ocean. He bubbled happily as he slipped into the cool waters of his homeland. The old myths said that the Pom people were born from the sea. Some biologists theorized the Pom evolved from beach balls. In any case, Pom-Pom felt rejuvenated in the ocean.
He looked around at his friends. Homestar was diving in and out of the water like a dolphin, showing his athletic grace. Marzipan was gathering sea shells, which she would later dump, and then buy back in the form of a shell-encrusted lamp. Bubs and Coach Z were playing volleyball, or at least arguing about volleyball. The King of Town was trying to catch a crab who selfishly didn’t want to be eaten. The Poopsmith was making a mountain out of sand, instead of his usual material. The Cheat was surfing on what appeared to be Strong Mad.
Strong Bad was on the shore, trying to impress the ladies with his muscular physique. He didn’t have one, but he tried to flex it none the less. A few people looked at him, but no lady-types took the bait. He decided they were too bashful to approach him so he chose to make the first move. He went over to a lovely young woman who he hoped wasn’t dating Pom-Pom.
“Hello,” he said suavely, “I just had to come over to talk to you, as you are one fine woman.”
“That’s so sweet!” she squealed.
“Yeah, you’re so hot,” he said, “I could probably get used to your freakish face…hey! I’m giving you a compliment!”
She was already gone. He tried his luck on the other girls.
“You’re an angel so give me a quarter.”
“Go away.”
“You don’t look too fat in horizontal stripes.”
“Leave me alone.”
“If you wore reflective pants I could see myself in them.”
“Buzz off.”
“Hey baby, maybe we could get together sometime and…”
“Sir, please get off the mannequin.”
Dejected, Strong Bad walked down the beach. To his surprise, a cute brunette walked up to him.
“Um, hello mister,” she said coyly.
Strong Bad picked himself up and answered, “Well, hello bodasitta.”
“I have a question to ask and I know I don’t know you well but…”
“Don’t worry, go on.”
“Why don’t you take your mask and gloves off at the beach?”
Strong Bad looked at her a moment.
“Well,” he said testily, “That’s a fine question to ask and I’m sure it won’t get DELETED!”
She looked at him blankly.
“Um,” he said softly, “I meant to say, um, I was born like this. It’s a weird genetic thing.”
“Oh,” she said, “How do you type with boxing gloves on?”
Strong Bad was about to make a witty reply when he heard some girlish giggles behind him. He turned around to see a gaggle of girls fussing over The Cheat. The brunette he had been talking to squealed and ran over to hug the adorable creature. Strong Bad gritted his teeth as all the lovely Pom girls cooed over his sidekick. He walked over to The Cheat.
“Stop stealing my ladies!” he yelled, given The Cheat a firm kick.
“Meh!” whined The Cheat.
All the girls turned to Strong Bad, their eyes narrowed.
“Hello, ladies!” Strong Bad greeted them.
Then, all at once, they beat the everloving snot out of him. The Cheat watched for a while, and then wandered off.
Strong Sad, on the other hand, after the picture taking, went straight to the ocean. He waded a little ways in, towel in hand and still wearing his hoodie. He watched the waves go in and out.
“Yeah,” he said to himself, “That’s enough beach for, like, a year.”
He took his towel and walked away from the beach. It had been a bad idea to come on this trip, but he just couldn’t refuse a friendly invitation. He would go to the deepest pits of Hell if Satan emailed him.
He walked across the sandy field between the beach and the only highway on the Isle of Pom. He hoped he could find an art supply store or maybe a record shop. All he saw were some houses and a grey object.
Wait, a grey object? Not even the sidewalk was grey on this island. As he walked closer he saw it was a person, a Pom girl, a Pom girl his age, sitting on the curb. She turned around and looked at him. Unlike the skimpy colorful outfits the other girls wore, she had on a big grey t-shirt and baggy grey pants. Her brown hair looked like the most elaborate thing done to it was a brisk brushing. Even her posture was apathetic.
“You want to sit down? Plenty of room,” she said.
Strong Sad accepted this invitation and sat down. She looked at him with bored curiosity.
“You came here with Prince Pom-Pom, right?” she asked.
“Yeah,” answered Strong Sad.
“I would expect a guy like you to be friends with him,” she said.
“He’s kind of friends with everyone,” Strong Sad said, wondering if he should take offence at that remark.
“No offence or anything, just I’d expect him to be friends with other vapid playboys,” she explained.
She offered out her hand.
“Here I am insulting your friends and I haven’t introduced myself yet,” she said, “My name is Ennui Pomkeep, call me Ennui.”
Strong Sad shook her hand and said “My name is Strong Sad; call me, um, Strong Sad.”
“Okay, Strong Sad,” she said, “How you doing?”
“You really have the time to listen to me whine?” Strong Sad asked.
“Not good?”
“I shouldn’t have come on this trip in the first place,” Strong Sad moaned, “I could have spent a week free from my brothers.”
I’m an only child,” Ennui said.
“You’re lucky. My brothers are the worst. My oldest brother Strong Mad’s always beating me up and Strong Bad makes fun of me and The Cheat puts fire ants on my bed.”
“The Cheat?"
“He’s this…yellow thing. Anyway, I spend most of my time in my room avoiding them.”
“I can sort of sympathize with you,” said Ennui, “My cousins are so stuck-up and my aunts are just evil.”
“Now I’m on a week long vacation with them,” Strong Sad said, “I don’t even like the beach.”
He looked at her to see if she was upset. She just looked at the horizon.
“I hate the beach,” she said, “and I live here.”
She kicked a pebble into the road.
“I’m tired of this island, and all its silly woman who only care about the way they look and dumb guys who care only about surfing and fishing and being nice to tourists and even the peach colored sidewalks annoy me.”
She sighed after this impressive rant.
“Where would you like to be?” asked Strong Bad.
“Anywhere but here,” she replied, “But I’m tied down by my family.”
Strong Sad recited, “What happens to a dream deferred?”
“Langston Hughes.”
Strong Sad turned to her and smiled a rare smile. He was going to enjoy this trip after all. He didn’t feel alone anymore.
“You like board games?” he asked his new friend.
Meanwhile, his brother Strong Bad found a lady friend as well. She sat next to him on his blanket, her arms crossed demurely in front of her as she listened to him talk.
“So there I was,” he said, “with a jar of kidneys and the police on my tail…”
“Excuse me,” she interrupted, “When will you give me my bikini top back?”
“When the half hour is over!” Strong Bad yelled.
He laid back on his towel and sighed.
“I hate the beach.”
Next: Chapter 5: Words in the Sand
Author’s Notes:
Captured the moment: This scene would make a great fanart! (hint hint)
Mephisto: I haven’t read the book, but I’ve seen the Wishbone episode. Does that count?
Boxing Gloves: In his first email, Strong Bad says he can’t take off his mask and gloves. He also has gloves and a mask when shown as a kid. It’s safe to say he was born that way. He still doesn’t like people asking him about it.
Ennui: An original character. I’ll try to keep the Mary Sue-ness down to mild hum. Her name is pronounced ann-whee. Look it up in the dictionary.
Langston Hughes: Strong Sad quotes a poem by him, called "Montage of a Dream Deferred". The play “Raisin in the Sun” is named after another line in this poem.
Next Chapter: Go to the hrwiki forum, because they’ll be a contest to write Coach Z’s rap that will be used in the next chapter.