originally "got any grapes?"
"hey, homestar."
the gravelly voice of strong bad snapped homestar back into focus, although..
"oh. hey strong bad."
"do me a favor, will ya." the wrestleman handed him a bucket full of glowy liquid and broken glowsticks. "hang onto this for me."
"cool, yeah. i can do that."
"just don't like.. drink it, or whatever you do to glowstick juice."
as strong band meandered across the field to the concession stand, homestar lifted the bucket closer to his face. he could barely make out the exact ingredients of the concoction, but the odors of warm plastic and energy drink overpowered whatever else might have been mixed in. why would he drink it?
"super powers!" homestar blurted.
"shut up, man." he muttered back.
"i bet it's a super secret potion. and like… strong bad's gonna use it to make himself stronger so he can win the next contest."
"do we still do contests?"
"we won't anymore if he drinks the potion!"
"ok, i'm back."
"sweet genius, you're right!"
"homestar."
"but how do we do it without him seeing.."
"homestar!"
strong bad had returned, now with a roll of duct tape and two large batteries.
"oh! strong bad! i was discussing your potion with a colleague of mine.."
"yeah, yeah, i heard." strong bad yanked the bucket back. "you're not exactly quiet when talking to yourself."
"oh yeah. sorry, man."
"you know you can use your brain to think, right? try that."
the wrestleman walked off, leaving the athlete to himself. he knew his rival didn't think he was stupid. .. ok, maybe he did think he was stupid. but he knows he's capable of thought, right? heck, he's thinking right now.
homestar sat in the grass. if anything, he should be wondering why i talk to my dang self all the time.
maybe he'll humour him this once..
he concentrated hard, slamming his eyes shut.
ok, let’s think about the weird potion. what do you think is in it?
before he could rattle his brain around, the unexpected occurred. from the shadows of his minds eye, a little man approached, almost excitedly. was this homestar? well.. almost. it WAS him, just shorter, and younger, and.. wearing that old duck shirt he was once famous for. something about his energy read as if the conversation before no longer mattered.
woah. that's weird.
the duckshirt turned to the one bearing the star, but failed to speak- at least in a normal sense.
physically, homestar could feel the onset of a familiar headache- the ones that usually meant the next chunk of time would be difficult to recollect.
aside from that, he was given a different familiar feeling- one of nostalgia and naïvity. swiftly following that was a warmth in his chest, as if he had just been addressed by a dear old friend.
as quickly as the emotions melded together, they dissipated, and instead of sitting in the field, he found himself on marzipan's couch with a bowl of grapes. glancing out the windows, he noticed the sky had darkened significantly.
homestar rushed to wrack his brain for details, but nothing came up. instead it was an abstract response, loosely translating to 'there are worse things to tune back in to.' he just popped a grape in his mouth & sunk deeper into the cushions..
"there you are, homestar. we need to talk."
he flinched, glancing up from the couch to a very cross marzipan.
“... about what?”
if marzipan had hands, she’d be burying her face in one.
“if you didn’t want my help, you should have just said that from the beginning.”
"you're gonna have to be more specific."
"remember last week when you were complaining how you can't remember things?"
"uh-huh."
"and i suggested you write down notes for yourself?"
"yep."
"so how come my trash is full of sticky notes? you know you're just wasting paper."
"... ok, you lost me."
marzipan sighed, exasperated, and dragged him into the kitchen. she then took a breath and tipped over her trash can. out spilled sticky pad after sticky pad, with the rare appearance of loose stickies in homestar's handwriting.
"hang on, i just bought those." homestar gaped.
"that too! they're not even out of the shrink wrap, either."
"marzipan," he centered his gaze on her face. "i told you the other day! sure i kept misplacing them, but i wasn't throwing them out.."
she just sighed.
"..you sound sincere, but i just don't believe you."
"i can take some of these back though, since there's not any food on 'em."
marzipan waved him off, but he still took one of the shrinkwrapped packs.
they hadn't even fought, and yet the pit in his chest still felt as if they did.
maybe i spoke too soon.
