Hi, peoples! This is the first fanfiction I've completed enough of to feel confident uploading. I know it's not all that original, so please be gentle.

This is adapted from the finale to TellTale's game series, Strong Bad's Cool Game for Attractive People, which is called 8-Bit Is Enough. I thought it would be more interesting to see happening if the characters were all real humans beforehand. Also, anyone who couldn't buy the games themselves gets to experience it outside walkthroughs on YouTube. Heehee!

PAIRINGS: None

CHARACTERS: Everybody in the main group of twelve gets at least a cameo, but the main focus is on Strong Bad and Homestar. Also, several characters created for SBCG4AP and assorted Videlectrix games get appearances too.

GENERAL DISCLAIMER: The characters, story and most of the dialogue was not created by me. The narration, alternate universe setting and additional dialogue was, though. Still, no profit being made, on a site devoted to fanfiction, so... you can connect the dots on your own, right? This applies for the whole story too; I'm not gonna copy-paste this on every chapter.

Homestar's Speech Impediment: I tried to keep it as inconsistant as it is on the website... Yes, believe it or not, Homestar does drop the impediment occasionally. If I start to go overboard, let me know. It's very easy to get trigger-happy replacing the r's and er's with w's and ou's. Heh.

CHAPTER ONE - Pweviously on Homestaw Wunnou...

"Uh oh, what now?"

"That drill musta damaged the stace spation more than I thought!"

"Looks like we're gonna have to jump!"

"Today is alright for tonight,

riding in a Corvette and feelin' alright

Alright for toniiiight-"

Strong Bad jumped to his feet and flicked off the TV, spinning around with a flourish to face his adoring audience of cast and crew... or so he thought they'd be. In reality, some (like Coach Z) were still staring at the screen in shock, some (like Bubs and Marzipan) were glaring at Strong Bad and the rest were dotted around the basement looking a bit confused (like Strong Sad, Homestar and The Cheat). Yeah, usually the middle Brother Strong would let his creations run through to the absolute end, but everyone had been so excited about finally getting Dangeresque Three out of the way that he figured there was little point waiting today. Obviously he had been wrong.

Coach Z blinked from his seat on the couch, scratching the top of his purple cap, and asked "What happened to the part where Dangeresque swoops in, rescuing me from danger and carrying me off into the sunset?"

Strong Bad's mind immediately jumped to how, for timing reasons, he had been unable to fit Renaldo's rescue in the movie... and he coldly responded "Oh yeah, Renaldo dies now."

"WHAT?!" Coach Z cried, a horrified look on his face as he leaned down, resting his elbows on his knees. "Oh, but I only had two weeks 'till retirement!"

Marzipan took the chance to butt in, crossing her arms and legs as she bitterly said "Yeah, and you fast-forwarded through the eight minutes of educational content I provided!"

Strong Bad was surprised Marzipan was still holding onto that grudge - he had grabbed the remote to fast-forward right in the middle of the movie, which had turned out to be pretty long.

"And what happened to my nude scene?" Bubs added, stepping out from behind the couch to face Strong Bad.

Strong Bad shivered. He didn't want to go into what had happened to that one.

Perhaps somewhat calmer than Bubs and Marzipan, Strong Sad finally stood up from beside the TV and asked "Where is the artistic noir cinematic stylings you promised?"

As if on cue, everyone stood from their seats and began hounding Strong Bad for the various wrongs he'd committed in his editing, and the masked director found himself backed up against the couch, which he climbed on to avoid the quickly forming mob. "Now calm down, people!" he cried in a silencing attempt. "Every great film has to make some creative editing decisions in order to make me look better!" That only seemed to make the crowd angrier. 'Crap,' Strong Bad thought, 'this is starting to turn into an unruly mob! And not the good kind like I start at Strong Sad's poetry readings. For real this time... Looks like I'm gonna have to jump!' In one fluid movement, Strong Bad pushed against the arm of the couch with one leg and launched himself into the center of the mob.

As Strong Bad flew through the air, time seemed to slow for a moment, and he noticed too late his aim had been badly off. The hapless director had flung himself belly-first into the overhanging of the out-of-order Trogdor machine, and once he connected painfully with the cabinet, he fell, bounced off the keypad and tumbled to the floor, where he lay in silent pain.

The mob paused, then as one turned and fell over themselves fleeing the basement, disappearing up the stairs. Strong Sad, however, stopped at the door and looked back to his older brother. No matter how often Strong Bad pummelled him, he always had to check to make sure his older (though shorter) brother was okay, and today was no exception. As Strong Bad pushed himself to his knees, one hand clutching his side in pain, Strong Sad ran back to him and the madly sparking Trogdor machine and asked "Are you okay, Ben?"

It wasn't often the inhabitants of Free Country used their real names with each other, so doing so was often a signal they were being serious. "Yeah, I'm fine, Shawn," Ben (usually known as Strong Bad) grumbled in reply, pulling himself to his feet and looking in despair at the Trogdor machine behind him. "Oh, NOW look what you did, Dumpalumpa!" He stepped backwards to show his younger brother, glaring. "The Trogdor machine is ruined!"

Strong Sad crossed his arms and protested "What I did? This thing hasn't worked for months! Besides, YOU broke it! Everybody saw!"

"Look, this is no time to be pointing fat, doughy fingers," Strong Bad said haughtily, one hand still on his painful side. "This is the time for you to figure out how you're going to fix it."

At that point, the old arcade machine shook, and a loud roar erupted from the speakers. Both brothers took a step back from the machine, and Strong Bad nervously asked "What the crap was that?"

Strong Sad scratched his thick, black hair and ventured "It's sounds like the fan's broken." Putting his hands in the pockets of his black hoodie, he turned to his brother and continued "You'll have to get it serviced."

"Serviced?!" Strong Bad cried in annoyance, glaring at the machine and his brother alternately. "Where am I supposed to get fan service around here?"

Right on cue, a one-channel version of Trogdor's theme burst out of the machine's speakers, and, in time with the notes, the machine stood on two stick-like legs, a beefy arm burst out the back, a pair of wings sprouted from the top and the screen flashed on with a close-up image of Trogdor's angry face. With a loud roar, the Trogdor machine jumped forward. Strong Sad shouted in fear and ran up the stairs, and the arcade game wasted no time in following with another loud roar.

Strong Bad, having jumped back against the wall, watched them disappear up the stairs in amazement. "That may be... the coolest thing... that has ever happened!"

"Help!" Strong Sad shouted from upstairs, and Strong Bad only chuckled to himself in reply.

'Oh, I gotta see this!' he thought as he ran after his brother.

At the front door of the house, Strong Bad was almost disappointed to see his brother cowering under the window by the front door, with the Trogdor machine nowhere in sight. Strong Sad had pulled up the hood on his hoodie and lost a shoe at some point during the chase, and when he heard Strong Bad approaching he turned and stood, crying "You're finally here! Help me shore up our defences in case he comes back!"

Strong Bad looked around the kitchen in disappointment. "Hey, what happened to Trogdor? I expected to see him pummelling and/or burnitating you by now."

"I told him my plant Charlemagne was a defenceless peasant baby and threw it out the window!" Strong Sad gestured to the corner of the room where the dying fern had previously sat. "When he went after it, I locked the door behind him!" Now he gestured to the closed door, which did indeed seem to be latched shut. "That thing is out of control! You've got to get a new logic board and stop him!"

"Stop him? No, no," Strong Bad corrected his younger brother with a smile, "it's pronounced 'cheer him on'!" When Strong Sad only glared, he walked around closer to the window (although he couldn't see out past his brother) and continued "Did you see where Trogdor went?"

Strong Sad waved a hand behind him, getting out of his brother's way. "Take a look for yourself; He's just waiting for us to let our guard down!"

Sure enough, it was plainly visible from the window that the Trogdor machine come to life was standing just beyond the mailbox, looking around with curious roars but sticking to the general area. Of Charlemagne there was no sign.

"I ordered the replacement logic board months ago," Strong Sad continued "but the parts have been on back-order. They emailed me last week saying it had left the shop, but Bubs hasn't said anything about it arriving yet! If we'd had that new one-"

Strong Bad ignored his brother's rambling and asked "What's this 'logic board' you're babbling about?"

Strong Sad stopped nervously twiddling his thumbs and explained "When you broke the machine-"

"We never established who broke what!" Strong Bad interrupted.

"-you must have damaged the eight-bit containment field." Strong Sad barely noticed Strong Bad's interruption, continuing without pause. "You'll have to go check Bubs' for the replacement I ordered; It should have arrived by now. It's the only way to get Trogdor back in the game!"

Strong Bad put his gloved hands on his hips. "Why would I want him BACK in the game? Do you have any idea how long I've wanted my own dragon?"

The youngest Brother Strong shook his head in exasperation. "You don't understand! If Trogdor gets free, the videogame world and the real world will merge! Imagine hearing the repetitive, monophonic music of eight-bit games wherever you are, every second, for the rest of your life!"

Strong Bad was unconvinced, excitedly replying "Yeah, I know! That sounds awesome!"

The two brothers stood in silence for a second, Strong Bad excited and defying his younger brother, and Strong Sad frowning, thinking of a way to convince Strong Bad to help him. With a rare evil grin, Strong Sad crossed his arms and sang "Doot doot doot doot doot, doot doooot. Doot doot doot doot doot, doot doooot. Doot doot doot doot doot, doot doooot."

Strong Sad paused to gauge his brother's reaction. Strong Bad wasn't grinning anymore, but he still wasn't speaking either, so Strong Sad began his monophonic tune again.

"Doot doot doot do-"

"Alright, I'll fix the machine!" Strong Bad cried, grabbing his masked head with his hands in annoyance. "Why do I have to go over to Bubs' anyway? Can't you do it?"

"Ben, I have to watch the machine and man our defences!"

"And Shawn," Strong Bad retaliated in irritation, "I still have to go out there!" What Strong Bad failed to mention was that he was objecting mainly to the fact that he had to be the one to approach the dragon, rather than the action of approaching the dragon itself. Not to say he wasn't slightly nervous about approaching that large beefy arm, because he was.

"Then call Coach Zobel and see if he'll get Max to help!" Shawn insisted, nervously scratching the back of his leg with his socked foot.

"We could just wait for The Cheat to get back. He has a cell phone we can use." Strong Bad replied, raising his eyebrows.

"Don't you still have Michael's phone? That you stole? A few months ago? In your room?"

Strong Bad clicked his fingers (quite an achievement even with fingerless gloves) and cried "That's right! Man, it's hard to keep up with all the stuff I steal. I should start keepin' a spreadsheet... or a bedsheet... Fredsheet?"

Shawn shook his head as his brother trailed off, and set the conversation back on track by asking "Will you be able to find it easier than the address book? If it takes too long, we can always use the phone on the wall..."

"No way, man," Strong Bad replied. "You have to actually punch in the full number on that thing. Besides, I have no problem with following Trogdor myself. Wait here, Junior, I've got a reanimated arcade machine to take care of!"

Strong Bad confidently strode to the front door, but Shawn stopped him in his tracks by grabbing his arm. "Just you? You'd have to be some type of idiot to take on Trogdor alone!"

"What?" cried Strong Bad, wringing his arm away from his brother. "You said all I have to do is replace some kind of logic board and everything'd be fine!" He adopted a thoughtful pose as he thought out loud "I just need to remember where I put the key to open the Trogdor machine, then grab the logic board and pop it in!" Haughtily, he flicked Shawn's nose and finished "How hard can that be?"

"Plenty," Shawn deadpanned. "But since you never listen to me and you're probably gonna do it anyway, take this case key." He pulled a small, round key out of his pocket and held it out. "It's the only way to open the cabinet."

Strong Bad had taken the key already by the time he twigged what his younger brother had said. With a glare, he confronted Shawn with "Wait, you've had MY key that opens the Trogdor cabinet this whole time?!"

Shawn nodded, quickly explaining "Well, yes, but I was only holding onto it for you so that you wouldn't lose it..." He paused briefly, before slyly smiling and continuing "Like you did with your baby bwankey and-"

"Shut up! Shut up nine times!" Strong Bad interrupted.

"Oh, by the way," Shawn said, "You might want to put a shirt on. You landed on Trogdor pretty hard." He gestured to Strong Bad's side, and only now did the older brother notice that there was a large colourful bruise blossoming there.

"Great," he mumbled. "I'll grab a shirt while I find Homestar's phone." Strong Bad nursed his side and walked around to the back of the house.

Strong Bad's room was, in it's natural state, a mess. It was only cleaned on rare occasions when Strong Bad was out of the house and Strong Sad dared to enter it with a duster and garbage bag, and even then Strong Bad never noticed the difference when he came back.

The bed had, long ago, been stripped of sheets and pillows, and never made again. Not that it mattered too much; the blue mattress was hidden under a huge pile of dirty shirts, pants, underwear and other miscellanious items Strong Bad had thrown on there in the past. Among the mess were two Limozeen CDs, Space Captainface's cape, a lone boxing glove and Homestar's cell phone. Strong Bad was quick to dig out the phone, amusedly listening to it and noticing that the Ukranian Weather Update Line, which he had called before stuffing the phone in the pile, was still on the other end.

"Is still very cold!"

Strong Bad only hung up and muttered "I hope Homestar's got some crazy roll-over minutes!" With phone in hand, he grabbed a random shirt from the pile (a grass-green polo with a pocket and a tiny floppy disk logo) to put on, which he was quick to slip the tiny case key into.

When he had last been in the room, playing on his FunMachine, he had decided to dress in his Dangeresque costume for the approaching premiere, which had involved the usual black pants, red boots, red fingerless gloves and mask. The sunglasses he had left by accident in the computer room upstairs, so he had left them off. Now that the rather disastrous airing of his movie had passed, there was little need to wear the mask and gloves any longer. The mask was peeled off (finally freeing his flattened black hair), but the gloves he decided to keep for now. Maybe the change of costume would help the other inhabitants of Free Country forget that they all currently hated him?

Nah.

While exiting the room, Strong Bad hit the speed-dial for Bubs' Concession Stand and held the bulky phone up to his ear... only to get a dial-tone in response. "What?" he muttered in confusion, looking at the screen before crying out loud "No signal?! You'd think a cell phone this giant'd have a better antenna!"

Shawn looked around from the window by the front door. "Problems with Michael's phone?"

"Even he calls himself Homestar, and of course there's problems!" Strong Bad replied in irritation as he walked through the living room. "I forgot this thing doesn't work indoors, because Homestar never bothers getting a new one that does!" He slumped onto the kitchen bench and grabbed the nearest cereal box, taking a handful of food out to munch on.

Shawn shrugged at the nickname correction. They had been using nicknames in preference to their own almost as long as he could remember, so he could understand why his brother loved them so much. "I suppose we could always use the house phone. I think I remember where we left the address book."

Strong Bad waved a hand in nonchalance. "No way am I doing it, man. You can if you want."

At that point in the conversation, they were interrupted by the sound of a key unlocking the front door. Briefly panicked, Strong Bad dropped his cereal and Strong Sad jumped into the stairway, and they both watched as the front door slowly opened to reveal...

"The Cheat!" Strong Bad reprimanded. "Don't do that!"

Ignoring his caretaker, the fourteen-year-old in the doorway scratched his head underneath his large yellow hat and said "Um, were you guys aware the Trogdor machine was alive in the front yard?"

"What do you mean 'was'?" Shawn asked. "It was still there last time I looked."

The Cheat shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets as he wandered inside. "I think I scared it off when I approached it. It ran off towards Bubs'."

The two Strong Brothers glanced at each other in a mixture of shock and confusion, before Strong Bad jumped towards the door crying "Hey, Trogdor! Come back here!" and disappeared outside.

It was a fifteen-minute sprint northwest to get to Bubs' Concession Stand from the House of Strong. Strong Bad didn't sprint all the way (the bruise on his side was still very painful), so it was closer to half an hour later before he got there. It was hard to get lost too - Before the Strongs had moved to Free Country, a white picket fence had been installed that ran from the side of their house all the way to Bubs' Stand. Over the years, as the children of the town climbed over it as a shortcut, it started to collapse, so only fragments were still standing today, the two largest being the two ends, now standing on their own.

The area around the Stand was known as the center of town. The old Gremlin car that had once been Bubs' and was now Strong Bad's still sat here where it had been left, and Strong Badia was visible between the two in the distance. On the other side of the Stand, the circle was completed by the Blubb-O's Drive-Thru Whale and one of the two lone brick walls in Free Country (the other was in front of Homestar's house). In the distance behind them was the Stick, just far away enough to render the 'circle' of the center of town more of a square, or even a square-tangle.

The Trogdor machine was stomping around in the general area between the Gremlin and Strong Badia, again seeming to be content looking at the one place. Strong Bad cautiously approached it from behind, slipped the case key out of his shirt pocket (may as well get that door open while he had the chance) and leapt forward to grab the cabinet.

Just as Strong Bad was about to reach the door, the machine swung around and punched his head with its beefy arm. "Oof!" he cried as he fell backwards, being rewarded for his efforts by the machine now running off to circle behind the Gremlin.

'Shawn was right, there's no way I'm getting near that thing on my own...' Strong Bad thought, rubbing his head and hoping that this injury would not bruise. 'I need someone to distract it without making it run away. Maybe Graw Mad?'

A voice from Strong Bad's left interrupted his thoughts. "Hey Strong Bad! Whatcha doin'?"

'Or maybe Homestar!' With another triumphiunt click of his fingers, Strong Bad ran over to Strong Badia, where captain-of-the-team Homestar Runner was currently sitting in the dirt with a comb in one hand. Just as he was about to ask why Homestar was sitting in the dirt with a comb in one hand, Homestar stood up and said "Uh-oh! Don't look now, but look at that thing over thewe!"

Strong Bad glanced back at the Trogdor machine, which was still jumping up and down by the Gremlin. "Calm down, Homestar; it's just a rampaging Trogdor machine."

"Never mind that!" Homestar insisted, still looking at the arcade game. "I'm talkin' 'bout that walk-'em-up videro game over thewe!" Strong Bad restrained himself from rolling his eyes. "Ooh, I wanna play it so bad!"

'Oh,' Strong Bad thought, 'getting Homestar to be a distraction will be easier than I thought!' Taking the chance to put the case key back in his shirt pocket, he asked "So... why don't you go over and play it?"

"Because I lost my lucky video game quawtou!" the athlete sighed, wiping his dry upper lip with one hand.

Strong Bad blinked for a moment and shook his head. 'And people wonder why he's so odd on the website?' He looked down at the combed dirt and noticed that a lot of it was now stuck to Homestar's white running shoes and matching white pants. He too had been wearing a variant on his Dangeresque costume for the premiere, but had presumably not even gone home since to change. His distinctive red star shirt and cap had been lucky to escape the dirt, Strong Bad thought, and Strong Bad himself was lucky Homestar seemed to have forgotten being a part of the angry mob after the premiere earlier.

"Today's your lucky day, Homestar!" Strong Bad enthused, holding his arms out. "You get to help me fix the Trogdor machine!"

Homestar was already excited, dropping his comb and clapping. "I DO?! What do I do? What do I do?"

"Just stand in front and try to play it while I open up the back."

"Oh, I'm all ovew it!" Homestar saluted Strong Bad as he spoke. "I'm great at standing in fwont of things!"

"Yep, you're a regular standing Stan! Now let's go!" Strong Bad spun around to march towards the machine, but was stopped when Homestar again spoke.

"Can't, man. I gotta stay here in case my lucky quawtou comes back!" Homestar looked around worriedly. "What if he shows up and I'm gone? He'll be so scawed and lonely. He'll just be sitting thewe holding his sno-cone and crying..." At this point Homestar was almost in tears, sniffing and wiping his face with the back of his hand. "While everybody looks at him!"

Strong Bad groaned. It was just like Homestar to form this kind of attachment to a dang coin. Even so, if he wanted help, he'd have to ask about it. "What's all this yibber-yabber about a lucky quarter?"

Homestar immediately cheered up and explained "Lucky George has gotten me through a lot of tough jams: Street Mashou, Street Mashou 2, Street Mashou 2: Slightly Diffewent Costumes Edition..." Homestar counted the games off on one hand, but when he reached the end of the list of games that sprung quickly to mind, he gave up and finished "That quawtou and I are arcade legends in five countries!"

Strong Bad highly doubted that last part. "Yeah yeah, you're a pinball wizard. But why are you trespassing in Strong Badia?"

"Because it's hewe!" the athlete insisted. "I can't find heads or tails of it, but something deep down in my gut tells me Lucky Geowge is close by!" He bent down to pick up his comb, and seemed about to start literally combing through the dirt again when Strong Bad decided it was time to put Homestar out of his misery.

"Alright alright, I'll help you find your quarter," Strong Bad admitted, feeling a small sense of deja-vu.

Homestar grinned widely. "Thanks Strong Bad! You're the eleventh best fwiend a guy could have!"

Strong Bad refrained from commenting on Homestar's last outburst. "Where'd you have it last?"

"Well, thewe was the pie-eating contest this morning," Homestar began, again counting off on his fingers, "and then that hour I spent saying 'Hey Marzipan, guess what?' to Marzipan, and then we all went to your house to watch Dangewesque, and then Coach Z bet me a moist Benjamin I couldn't catch the quawtou in my mouth, and then I came hewe and must have dropped it." He stopped and looked around at the dirt before hopefully looking back to Strong Bad. "But if anybody can dig it up, you can! I heaw you're the best diggew in Caiwo!"

Strong Bad grinned at Homestar's last sentence. 'Best digger in Cairo' had been the last 'rumour' he started when he took out his metal detector, and he had told it to Homestar himself. But enough preening - he still had a quarter to find. "It's gotta be around here somewhere, Homestar."

Homestar nodded in agreement. "It's always in the thiwd-to-last place I look!"

Strong Bad blinked in puzzlement. "Uh, what?"

"I always like to look a few extra times to make suwe I've found it. But if anyone can dig it up, you can!" Homestar smiled and leant back down in the dirt, running his comb over the same spot multiple times.

Strong Bad looked around. At the pace Homestar was going, he'd never find it. But, of course, he didn't have a metal detector back home he could use! "Hey, Homestar," he called.

Homestar did not react.

"Homestar?" Strong Bad tried again.

Still no reaction.

"Michael!" Strong Bad almost shouted in frustration.

Homestar blinked and looked up. "Yeah?"

"I need you to keep an eye on the Trogdor machine over there, okay? I've gotta run home and grab my metal detector."

The athlete nodded and replied "Suwe, Ben!" and instantly went back to cheerfully combing through the dirt.

Strong Bad groaned again. He didn't want to leave the Trogdor machine alone, and he especially didn't want to leave Homestar combing through the precious ground of Strong Badia, but he had little choice. He still had to get that logic board on top of all this as well... 'Oh, I almost forgot!' Strong Bad thought, facepalming, and he rushed over to the local Concession Stand.