1.13 Altur Egoez

No. This will not do. I’ve had this chapter half-written for like a year but school is bent on keeping it unfinished. The proof is in the pudding, with the pudding being that this chapter’s title is the name of one of my textbooks (with some minor alterations, obviously). Basically I’m in the middle of the worst semester EVER and am currently taking courses in three different languages which is screwing with my mind so dites-moi si je commence à écrire en français oððe on Eald Engliscgereord, si? Derrr, my brain is so fried. Time for Langurds. Because ain’t that the best remedy for a broken intellect.

Now for a SUPERSPEED RECAP because these things are boring as heck! The family was broke so the kids went on a dough-raking mission but failed; Morgana wanted to reconcile with Tewl but he rejected her because he’s douche; Star had an affair with the babysitter; Tewl got his ninth girlfriend but turned her into his sparring buddy; and I forced everyone in the household to be friends so that I didn’t have to invest in more beds. I think that about sums it up – now let’s get cracking on the next one!

We all know what happens when Tewl gets into fights with girls (or anyone, really) so this screenshot is less for plot development and more for the public humiliation of one legacy founder.

Sandi: Take that, bastard! That’ll teach you to beat up a scrawny-ass punk chick with zero percent muscle mass!

Tewl: Ah goddammit, dese shorts are cuttin’ off ma leg!

Erin: Well, I’m glad I never got involved with that pansy.

Jocasta: Few sandwiches short of a picnic there, Erin? Ooooh, snap. That’s way better than the last caption you wrote for this thought bubble.

Why thank you. 😉

Sandi: And here’s what I think about the colour orange!

Tewl: Guhh!!! Just rip ma soul out why don’cha??

Gunther: One of my arms is blue wtf?

Tewl: ‘Choo gotta be so evil for?

Sandi: Me? You have got to be kidding me!

Holly: That poor girl.

Says the one bursting with the child of an eighty-year-old man…

And then they dissolved into a raging ball of… cannibalism? Considering both their personalities, I’m scared to describe what might be going on in there.

Holly: *sigh* These situations could be avoided if we all picked up a book once in a while.

Oh yeah? And what are you reading, Fifty Shades of Green?

Holly: …

I sincerely hope she puts that child up for adoption.

Meanwhile, the Block Society was crumbling to pieces.

Keg: Star, we have to keep playing! *hysterical sob* Our tyrannical hold on this family depends on it!

Star: I am dead, Horatio.

Keg: Wtf?

(Hamlet on the brain, apparently. That’s what you get when your creator is an overworked English major.)

And the older boys were busy vying for Arabella’s attention with their loud, not-always-so-intelligent remarks.

Rotter: Art is stupid! If I had any say in this world, I’d make it illegal!

Razor: If you had any say in this world, we’d be eating garbage for lunch.

Amen to that. Too bad Arabella’s too single-minded to appreciate your wit.

Arabella: Spoon. Mouth. Spoon. Mouth. Kill. Kill. Kill.

Remind me how she got so messed up again?

Oh right, she was raised by this guy.

Tewl: Heh heh heh… Bitch won’t even see it comin’.

Tewl: Try an’ find a camera angle for this, bigshot photographer! — OOGABOOGA!

Sandi: Kill yourself.

Tewl: Why you gotta drag dis out so long? I never even liked dis girl in da first place!

Sourpuss Sandi: Well screw you, too!

To be honest, I was (noobishly) curious as to whether she might dump him autonomously if he treated her badly enough (experimental domestic violence, heck yeah*). But as much as she slapped and shouted at him, she didn’t have the pre-programmed capacity the guts to end things.

*Not actually, though.

So I took matters into my— er, Tewl’s own hands, mainly because I realized things were getting more ethically complicated than I’d bargained for.

Tewl: Dis ends now!

Sandi: You’d better hope so—I’m about ready to light your ass on fire!

Sandi: You are a despicable human being and I hope I never see you again.

Tewl: And yer a— god, I’m hungry.

Cat: Me, too!

Tewl: Here you go little kitty, you can has my last Twinkie.

Sandi: Compassion for a stray cat but not for a girlfriend? Now that is just messed up.

I dunno, they are pretty heart-melting.

Well look who it is! Our resident nobody, Morgana Wolff. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?

Morgana: Whatever. I know you avoid my screenshots like the plague because you’ve never given me a personality so captioning them is super awkward. Like now.

Why I never! Anyway, I’m not even sure what this picture is for. A promotion maybe? The only way I can tell is by the spiffy new uniforms she comes home in from time to time, though I’ve got no idea what level she’s actually at. She pays the bills (and not much more) and that’s what really matters to me.

Star: Golly gee willikers, it’s birthday time!

Well isn’t that swell! Now don’t let your eyes get stuck like that—you’re starting to look like a Muppet and those things creep me out.

Star: Cute as a button, amirite?

Actually, you kind of just look like a button.

Star: Um, thanks?

She rolled Eco-Friendly as her third trait. Kind of cool? Meh, not really. She didn’t turn out anything like I expected, but she’s unique as ever so I’m not complaining.

Or maybe I am. I believe simmers have taken to calling this little issue the Bimple Pox, which is mighty appropriate and makes me laugh every time I read it. However, seeing it on-screen just aggravates my OCD, so Star, dear, I am not impressed. FIFTY POINTS FROM GRYFFINDOR.

Keg: This is the last time you will see me smile. Ever.

This guy, on the other hand, grew into a more graphically satisfying (and, I might add, somewhat handsome) face. I mean he has monkey ears, but I think I actually like him. And to think I’d already written him off as a—

Thank you, Voldy. Sadly (for you) nobody will be dying today.

Twin shot! This is is maybe like the third picture of these guys together, and I’m just astonished by how un-twinny they are. Yeah, I know fraternal twins are genetically equivalent to just brother and sister and yada yada but usually there’s some kind of bond or something. These two don’t even seem like they could be friends.

Star: You think he’s cuter than me, don’t you?

Oh honey, of course n— LOL yeah, I totally do. I am going to be an awful mother someday. XD

Star: Hmph. Something will have to be done about this.

I confess that the twins didn’t have the most natural of birthdays. There was a “Trigger Age Transition” involved because at this point I still hadn’t figured out my glitchy problems, nor discovered the fountain of youth to which the town must have secretly hooked up its plumbing (I blame Tuesday). But I assure you, I did my best to calculate the exact day that they should be aging up, so the only real issue is that they are a little bit closer in age to the triplets than they should be. Truly, I am so determined to resist cheating in this thing that it’s almost kind of funny. When I resorted to “resetsim *” in my efforts to get things rolling again, I even drew up a chart of everyone’s mood bars so that I could set them back to normal afterwards. See how committed I am? Honestly, I think my game just wants me to fail.

Ripper: Hey Mom, you’ll never guess what happened to—

Morgana: Silence, Ripper. I am watching the ceiling fan.

Woman on T.V.: I’M IN A GLASS CASE OF EMOOOTTTTIIIIIOOOON

Star: Mixin’ up an ugly potion for the bro, ohhh yeaaahhh.

Shut up, you’re just making “organic” muffins.

Star: Nooooo…

Thought Bubble: Heya! I’m Smiley Keg! Isn’t it just a beautiful day?

Keg: I HATE smiley Keg! Why does he gotta float over my head all the time???

Thought Bubble: Hey man, just tryin’ to cheer you up! Let’s go chase butterflies and eat pink sprinkly cupcakes!

Keg: How about I shove pink sprinkles up your—

Thought Bubble: Righty-o! I’ll be off!

Star: Oh, pooh. These are just organic muffins. Now I’ll never make Keg ugly and nobody will ever like me! Hmph.

Random Kid: Hey… I think you’re pretty cool.

Star: You do? Well then, I’m recruiting you as my new best friend. Only thing is, you’re gonna have to be gay because apparently gay best friends are cool these days. It’ll get me all the guys in high school.

Kid: For you, girl? I’ll be as gay as a feather duster.

Star: I don’t know what that means, but thanks. I’m Star.

Kid: Harrison.

Star: Change that to Harri and it’s a go.

Star: Well, this is my humble abode! What do you think?

Harri: Err… the sink…

Star: Consider it a water feature.

Harri: And the green vapour over there?

Star: Homemade Neon Lights, duh. We Langurds like to live large.

Cue erratic plot zigzagging!

With only one girlfriend left on the bucket list, Tewl decided he really wanted to go out with a bang. I mean bust out the big guns. I mean really hit a homerun. I mean DAMMIT why does everything have connotations these days???

Basically he called up Vita Alto because, if you recall, she was one of the very first women he had laid his incredibly seedy gaze on. You know, way back in the day…

Oh, those were the Golden Years alright.

(Me, a vendetta against Erin? Never…)

Anyway, he called up Vita Dearest and asked her to meet him at the ultimate romantic destination pictured above, but she fed him some dumb excuse about getting her toenails waxed or something (chyeah, if only EA were as creative as I am). For some odd reason though, Tewl decided to go anyway. As he meandered through the gates, a chilly wind stirred up dead leaves and carried sinister music with it while a strange figure crept up noiselessly behind him. Now ain’t that worthy of a Stephen King novel Rotter’s bedtime story collection.

Tewl: Yo Vita, I’m here fer our date. Where da hell are you, old prune?

But the figure wasn’t Vita. It was… DAMIAN THE BABYSITTER ZOMG!!!

Tewl: Oh, i’ssyou.

Damian: Hello, Mr. Langurd. I have arranged this secret meeting because I would like to ask you something very important.

Tewl: Wtf…?

Damian: Mr. Langurd… I would like to request permission to marry your daughter, Star.

Tewl: No fuckin’ way, pipsqueak! Yer trash, an’ I ain’t lettin’ no trash get its hands on my preshus Star! Get outta here!

Damian: Oh… Well, if that’s how you feel…

And he never showed his face again.

(P.S. Looks like Rotter missed an easy pick-up under the arch back there. Incompetent little dingbat.)

Speaking of dingbats, look who came lurking with her trusty raccoon minion. Bent on revenge, maybe?

Pauline: I wonder if that Razor kid is seeing anybody…

Rodney the Raccoon (because that is his name): Master, the scent of putrid tofu dogs tickles my nostrils! Tonight we dine like kings!

Tewl managed to track down Vita at the park, which according to EA is where you spend all your time if you’re not asleep or at work. Turns out she’s a real cougar and has been dating Sam Sekemoto, who is basically young enough to be her grandchild. Good guy Tewl decided to stage a moral intervention and propose himself as an alternative, since he’s more like son material and that’s totally better.

Tewl: Hay sexy lady, get wif me an’ we can shine bright like a diamond, know what I’m sayin’?

Vita: I didn’t understand a word of that but it sounds young and hip! I like you.

Sam: There goes my sugar momma…

What kind of pushover just stands there and lets this sort of thing happen?

So it might come as a surprise to some of you, but I’m actually really terrible at managing eight-person households. Thus, there was a while in here, when I was focused on Tewl and his LTW, as well as other important things like Pauline Wan standing next to a raccoon, when the kids were left completely to their own devices. As it turns out, they are a bunch of little shit disturbers like their names suggest. Rotter arranged a play date with his half-sister Marjorie after school and promptly crawled into her mother’s bed, stinking of compost and rodent faeces.

The twins took up this issue with the nearest available father figure.

Marjorie: There’s a strange smelly boy in our house and he won’t leave!

Chris: Hey, I don’t even live here!

Chris does have a habit of showing up in random places…

Time to go home, Harri?

Harri: Do I… do I even have a home? For that matter, what is a home? Just a roof over one’s head, or… something more? I think I feel a song coming on…

Harrison: Wait! There is a change in the winds…

Damn straight there is. This was the in-game moment when everybody started aging again! PRAISE THE ALMIGHTY SIM LORDS. Well actually, praise NRaas Overwatch. That thing is legendary.

Also, it seems Christopher and his glitchy blood was to blame for it all. I no longer feel bad for stealing his baby.

And now for a snippet of Rotter’s Actual Bedtime Story Collection! When I referenced that before I had totally forgotten about these screenshots and now I am irrationally happy for the coincidence. This is brought to you while Ripper, the boring triplet, dreams boring dreams of becoming a doctor or something.

Morgana: Twice upon a time, in a land sort of near-ish to where you are now, there lived a dwarf pony and a hydra in a cavern made of silicon.

Rotter: I think I know how dis one ends.

Morgana: Hold on, Rotter. I see a white light… I feel the call of the great beyond… I think it may be time for me to— JK, just bad photography.

Rotter: You’re really not cool, Mom.

Ripper: Just watch. When I’m a doctor, I’ll have the biggest TV you ever saw. And then I’ll spend so much time watching it that I’ll go braindead and start screwing up spinal surgeries. Sweeeeet.

Apparently Harri still didn’t go home after all that hoopla. I think this might be the longest playdate I have ever witnessed. On the bright side, they maxed out their friendship bar within a few hours so they legitimately are best friends now! So proud of our girl for interacting with a non-Langurd.

Star: To be honest, it’s getting a little creepy. We’re not even playing tag anymore.

Oh.

Verno— er, Nick: Tewl Langurd, you say? And what brings you here, Mr. Langurd?

Tewl: Wishes an’ dreams, Mr. Alto. Wishes an’ dreams… Hehehe.

Nick and Vita actually aren’t married anymore, so I’m not sure why the game still has them living together. All I can think is they couldn’t come to an agreement on who got the house. And hey, I wouldn’t give it up so easily either after working my way back up from Mosquito Cove.

Nick: Right you are, Harry. (No post on Sundays.)

This really must stop.

See the crimes these triplets get up to when I’m not watching them? PUT THAT THING DOWN, RAZOR. IT’S CONTAGIOUS AND UGLY AND EMBARRASSING. Aren’t you supposed to be all tough and punkish and stuff?

Razor: But it’s so goddamn adorable.

Oh no no. It’s going to eat you in your sleep, that’s what. Do you see those beady eyes? That sinister lightbulb on its head??

Puzzle (pre-named, I promise): Are you kidding, lady? I’m about the most harmless thing you ever saw.

I trust nothing with a sewn-on heart.

And then we scroll over to his daddy and this is what he’s busy doing. Da fuq, Tewl?

Tewl: I found Tamika so I thought I better say hi.

Tamara: He hasn’t said a word.

Tewl: God, why you gotta make dis so awkward?

Please, for the sake of all of Sunset Valley, part ways and never speak again. Your relationship was nothing but a plot fork.

Apparently, if you want to be bombarded with blasts from the past, the park is the place to go.

Chris: Hello, Tamara. It’s been a while.

Tamara: Why yes. Yes, it has. I’m lonely, Christopher.

Cleo: Daddy, Daddy! Some lady just clicked on me and I grew like three times taller! Oh and who are you talking to?

Yes, Cleopatra was lagging behind in the aging process due to glitches, so I intervened. It’s not really cheating if I’m just helping out my mentally handicapped game… right? Anyway, she became a Loner in addition to Perceptive and Virtuoso. I don’t have a stereotype prepared for that, sorry.

Tuesday is an old lady now! And she wanders around in her military gear just to show she’s a badass independent female. God, she’s awesome.

Tuesday: Extricate yourself from my presence at once.

Yes, sir— uh, ma’am.

And the reunions go on and on…

Marjorie: Who is that boy, Momma? I don’t like him.

Tamara: He’s your half brother, hon. No biggie. Come have some PBJ with us.

Marjorie: I’d rather impale myself with that straw.

Do my eyes deceive me? THE BROHOOD IS REBORN!

Tewl: Hey Chris, dis is what your face looks like when you all glitchy an’ screwin’ shit up!

Chris: And this is what you look like when you’re screwing every committed woman in town!

Ah, good enough. And look, Dorothy DeMayo, the original Langurd paparazzi, is even there to share in the moment! Or witness it from a safely non-creepy distance, as per usual.

Last superfluous sentimental shot, I promise. This here is Cesar of Chris and Tamara! Not bad, eh? Poor guy finally aged up on his own, so he’s not younger than his little sisters anymore. I’m thinking definite spouse material if Star is heiress.

Unfortunately the Donners are still having wall problems though.

The Langurds may have walls, but their house still does little to woo the ladies. So when Tewl finally succeeded in getting Vita back home for some uninterrupted relationship-boosting, things didn’t go too smoothly.

Tewl: You not even impressed by da TV? We spent like our whole fortune on dat.

Vita: I’m sorry, it’s just… there are plates drowning in the carpet.

Tewl: But dis gotta be better dan what yo five-year-old boyfriend can give you, yeah? Be wif me, bitch.

Vita: Not today, whatever-your-name-is. Samuel and I are happy.

Ugh, Vita. And I actually thought this would be a quick conclusion to Tewl’s promiscuous saga. Can’t she see we have a legacy to get on with??

Of course, the next generation isn’t quite so concerned with carrying on the torch. Some of them, it seems, have been trying to eradicate themselves from the gene pool as quickly as possible.

Keg: You didn’t keep that covered, did you? You’re going to catch something, you know. Probably salmonella.

Star: Mmmff? What the heck is salmonella?

Keg: Oh, nothing major. Just a possibly deadly bacterial infection that makes you puke your guts out and poop blood.

Star: Aww, nasty! I can’t even eat this now—thanks a lot, Keg.

Keg: Just looking out for you, little sister.

Star: I just got owned, didn’t I?

Sure did, kid. Keg just might have this heir thing in the bag.

Keg: Too bad I don’t give a crap. Not even one with blood in it.

TMI? Next screenshot, please.

But while we’re on the subject of crap— Hi, Tewl.

Tewl: Tewl ain’t here no more. It’s Smewl now. See da haircut?

Um, what?

Tewl: Vita ain’t broken up wif dat Sexemoto douche yet so I took da necessury measures, yo. Der’s no way she can refuse me if I looks just like ‘im.

Not exactly a Tewlproof plan, but I’ll humour you, “Smewl Sexemoto.” God, I think we just discovered your porn star name…

Smewl: Step aside, bucko. Dere’s a new Sexemoto in town.

Vita: Ooooh, now who is this absolute chunk?

Smewl: I think you means “hunk,” but dat’s k. I’ss me, da mysterious Smewl Sexemoto.

Vita: Gasp!

Background Asian Guy: You disgrace me, Mista Tewl!

Smewl: C’mon, babe. S’time to get wif da times, an’ Smewl is da times, know what I’m sayin’? Like, I could be your boyfriend swag swag swag do da Harlem Shake an den we can never ever get back togetha, eh?

Vita: You sure know how to melt a woman’s butter! I’m sold!

Sam: Dammit. Well that’s that.

Orrrrrr you could, you know, fight for your woman??

Sam: Oh, right.

Sam: What is going on here, darling? This guy is just me with sunglasses, some tattoos, and eighty percent of the brain removed! Why would you settle for that when you already have the real thing?

Vita: Your archaic language is foreign to me, Samuel. I am a modern woman now.

Smewl: Sweet, le’ss ditch! YOLO!

Apparently that stands for “You Old Laggy Oaf,” because Vita quite literally had some trouble keeping up with “the times.” XD

Seventeen thousand hours later, they arrived at the world’s second most romantic destination. Of course Tewl gallantly let her drive him there in her shiny car.

Yep, it’s just the most hip and happening place on earth. At least Stiles seems to think so.

Stiles: I’ve been here for days, it’s so great! I’ve even got the sweat stains to show for it… permanently, on my skin!

Congratulations…?

Vita: Teach me this “swag” business, Smewl.

Smewl: Gurrl, swag ain’t summin dat can be taught. You gotta be born wif it.

(Well, if it’s that simple, maybe we can start weeding them out at birth! :P)

Smewl: I heard dat.

Good.

Smewl: But srsly, be da Ana to my Christian?

Vita: Of course! Is that a reference to a beautiful modern love story?

Smewl: Bitch, you don’ ask ‘bout my ref-ernces! It just ain’t cool! I can’t have some old fart crampin’ my style. We done, k? I’m outta here. Smewl is DONE.

Why yes, ladies and gentlemen—Tewl is very much done, because with that, he completed his horrible, horrible LTW! And now I can write the rest of this legacy without feeling so morally depraved! This, my friends, is a day to celebrate.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Also a day to celebrate because I am done with this never-ending chapter! Phew. Not with school yet, unfortunately, so it might be a little while before the next one. When it does come out, however, I promise it will contain more excitement and fewer references to bad pop culture. Until then, happy Simming! 🙂

– Sam

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