1.15 Waffulmageddun

Guysguysguys guess what? This is the second last chapter I have to write before Gen. One is over! Well, probably. I might tie up some loose ends later, but it’s been for-freaking-ever since I opened the game file, so really, I have no idea where I’m at. In true Langurd style, we’ve been trudging along blindly for the last three or four chapters. Ain’t that comforting?

Looking back on it, last chapter was pretty ADHD. I could probably have cut 70% of the screenshots without taking away any value. In the parts that mattered, the family became $4,000 richer with the ethically questionable Collection Helper (although I maintain that it was not cheating), the triplets grew up into stylin’ personas that sound like Hallowe’en costumes, and we collectively agreed that the House of Langurd does not bode well with nature. On that note…


Rotter: Right. Now where would I find a mouse ‘round here?

Oh, I don’t know. Somewhere between the central processing boulder and the Blu-Ray tree?

Rotter: Awesum! I’mma check dere!



Rotter: Found it!

Look at that thing, majestic as shit.

Jin the Snake: Yesssssss. Bear me to my chamberssss, young master. Tomorrow I feasssst on your flessssssshhhh.

Razor: My dear brother, so eager to remove himself from the heir race…


It took a little wake-up call (i.e. a chinchilla, turtle, and womrat bumming around the kitchen for a few days) but finally, we decided that Rotter’s pockets were not sufficient containment for his budding zoo. And now these stupid terrariums are costing us a goddamn fortune so THANKS A LOT, ROTTER.

Rotter: Yer welcome. Welp, gonna need some rest after all dat zoologing. Bein’ a profeshinul sure is tirin’.


In glitch headlines, Floppy Pup got stuck in the the sunken area at Central Park and it was the saddest thing ever.

Puppy: Halp 😦


Even sadder was that Star continued to bully the poor fella.

Star: Here ya go, doggy. Have a hot dog.

Puppy: But… but that could be like my brother or something! :O

Star: Oh, I guess it could. Sucks to be you then!


Of course, we know exactly why she’s such a sadist. Not only was she raised by this heartless monster, but she’s also been best friends with him since toddlerhood—and, more recently, matched with him in the bed-sharing system. Here we see a father-daughter heart-to-heart, if you can call it that when neither party has a heart.

Star: So are you and Mommy getting back together?

Tewl: How do I put dis? See here Star, da thing wif me an’ yer mom is—

Star: Oh, I don’t actually care. Mom’s a boring old bat and you’re better off without her.


Tewl: But she’s an ass-load foxier dan dat Viola lady, right?

Star: Oh, hell yeah. What were you even thinking there? Some “finale” she was.

Coming soon to the Domestic Shenanigans network: Conversations You Probably Shouldn’t Be Having with Your Preteen Daughter.

Morgana: Ugh, how does one sleep easy in such a tastelessly decorated room?

Inorite? Guess who painted that shit, MORON.


Sometime later, a rare specimen appeared onscreen. Hi there, kid I don’t care about!

Ripper: Hello to you too, soulless overlord.

What’s that supposed to be, your sexy face?

Ripper: I just wanna say, before you ignore me for the rest of the chapter… you may not wanna go into the next room.

What? Why? Don’t you play mind games with me, you smart-ass reject—



Tewl: Hum dee dum. Gots me some goooood curealz. To hell wif dis home cookin’ nonsense.



Tewl: Holy Christopher, a talkin’ stove!!??

Stove: Damn right! A little help, you twit!


Tewl: I’m tryin’, I’m— why am I talkin’ to da furniture? I must be gettin’ dulirious from hunger.

Microwave: Hey moron, a little to the right! You’re ruining my shiny exterior!


Tewl: Sure fang, a little to da— GRRFLFLFLFLFLFLLLLLERHKKK!

As if to prove that Tewl isn’t the most incompetent guy in an emergency ever, THIS FOOL showed up. His name is Galen Ridley, but now that I’ve witnessed the extent of his idiocy, I feel I have earned the right to call him Gurbin Potatoparty instead.

Gurbin: Howdy. Havin’ some trouble there, dude?


Gurbin: Right. Guess I’m a fireman, huh? I should probably do something.


Gurbin: Or I could, like, stay rooted to this very spot. I like that idea better.


Gurbin: Wowee. Look at that damage. Fire is just great, huh?

Tewl: You gonna die if I don’ get some chow in my belly soon.

For real, Gurbin completely bugged up and would not leave, nor could he be interacted with, nor would he wipe that smug little smile off his stupid face-one face. It was possibly the most annoying glitch ever.


Gurbin: So, do you like… rocks?

Tewl: I sure hope you do, cuz you about to take fifty of ‘em to da head.

Don’t worry Tewl, I’ve got other plans for him.


Gurbin: Yo ho ho and a bottle of FUN! Did somebody call for a birthday pirate?

NO, we actually called for a firefighter. But since you failed at that, welcome to your new vocation.

Gurbin: Oh, goody! I’m gonna be great at this!


Hand 1: ROAR, I’m an abominable snowman and I’m coming to eeeeaaaaaat you!

Hand 2: Dude, for real? I taste like garbage!

Hand 1: LIES. Prepare to die, peon— wait, are those tofu dogs in the microwave??

Hand 2: Only the finest.

Hand 1: But alas! What is flesh compared to coagulated soy milk, food of the gods? Let us feast together!

Hand 2: The day is saved!

We shall call this winning piece “Tofurcules.”


I may have forgotten to mention it (or write it down for that matter—though I cunningly deduce that it is related to painting) but Keg got himself a handy dandy LTW. And with it, the power to make stuff magically appear around his feet!

Tewl: Yo, dat don’ smell too “magickul” to me.


Ripper: Dammit Keg, what are we gonna do with these huge space rocks?


Now that’s more like it!


Arabella: A fortune fit for a queen, no less.

Hey—what happened to grouchy, humbled Arabella?

Arabella: Her reign has come to an end! Behold, it is my turn to take the iron throne!

Dorothy: I’m outta here. This whole family is delusional.


Gurbin: All hail the queen.


She’s pretty cute though, all jokes aside. Alas, there is very little Chris in her, but we can always hope for recessive genes… right?

Oh, and she rolled Slob, which explains the previous screenshot and 100% clashes with the personality I had laid out for her. Curse you, randomization.


In the next few days, Gurbin continued to make a nuisance of himself to the point where I started pondering extremely graphic ways to murder him.

Gurbin: Careful there! Wouldn’t want to start a fire now, would we? Herp derp!

Tewl: Permission to throw dis slop in his face?

If only, Tewl. If only.


Gurbin: Say cheese, Mr. Langurd!

Tewl: I gotta few other choice words in mind.


On the bright (and warpy, neon blue) side, somebody gathered enough points for a hover bed, which conveniently went to the least deserving pair in the household.

Tewl: Zzzz… Yo, dis sucks. Why can’t we sleep in da house? Zzzz…


While Tewl is BFFs with his little girl, Razor is a total Momma’s boy—further disparaging evidence that he is, in fact, a big softie wrapped in leather and evil eyes. These two got into the habit of having dance parties in the kitchen because they’re hip like that.

Razor: Did Dad really think you were the Mona Lisa when you met?

Morgana: Oh yes. But only after I convinced him I wasn’t the Wicked Witch of the West.

Razor: Are you sure he’s my real father?

Morgana: Unfortunately.


Quite the father he is, too.

Tewl: So guys… wassup?

Rotter: Go ‘way Dad. Tryna study here. Square root of x plus nine divided by three equals… triangle?

Star: Where the heck is the Great Wall of China?

Tewl: Real prouda you guys. Keep up da good work.

Oh, and that blondie behind Keg’s chair? That would be Cleopatra. The kids started religiously hanging out with her after school as if to make me feel bad for separating them at birth or something.


Meanwhile, Arabella spent as much time as possible not at the Langurds’. I don’t know where she was when this picture was taken, much less how she got in there.

Arabella: What is this brilliance? A virtual program where I can simultaneously steal vehicles from underprivileged citizens and commit manslaughter? How charming!

Uh-oh, time to get out of here.


Ripper: Aww, but Dad said this was a good place to pick up girls!


We decided to throw Cleo a birthday party for purely selfless reasons. I mean to keep her synchronized with her twin. Okay, so the boys’ prom was coming up and she seemed like an easy date for one of them. What of it?

Besides, it looks like she might have a thing for Rotter. It also looks like Rotter has man boobs, but that is irrelevant and I need to limit my captions to things that are actually important and oooohhhkay, back to the story now.


This one has some Chris in her, gall darn it. Naturally, the only existing likeness of Christopher Steel is trapped inside the one Sim I cannot marry into the legacy. Woe is me.


In “Mission: Prompossible, Part Two,” Arabella sought out a familiar face.

Arabella: Lettuce go to prom together, Zachary Gewf.

Zachary: You beet me to it, baby.

I don’t even…


Victoria: Look at my Squeakums, so grown up!

Zachary: Ma, go away! We’re having a very romantic conversation here!


As our first real house guest in eons, Cleopatra was subjected to full Langurd treatment.

Tewl: Spare some change?

Cleo: Sure, have a dollar! My family is royalty compared to you guys anyway.

Yeah, SOMEHOW. Thanks for that, EA.


Tewl rode his wave of victory right into a much-needed confrontation with Morgana.

Tewl: Yo Morgs, I know we ain’t talked in a goddamn century, but I’mma come out an’ say it. We poor an’ got limited beds in dis house, an’ I think you an’ me should be comf’terble enough ta share one. An’ maybe do other stuff. Y’know, to economize on furniture… an’ stuff.

Morgana: Good lord, he almost deserves an award for that.

Portrait Tewl: What was you thinkin’ bro? Dat tanked!


Cleo: LOL Star, I just got your dad’s pickup fail on video! I’m gonna tweet it right now!

Tewl: Goddamn, Arabella. After all we done fer you…

Morgana: That’s not Arabella.

Tewl: Holy fuck, i’ss not?? What’d I miss???


Meanwhile, Star dreamt of the day when the damage she had caused would be undone and her family would coalesce under one roof once more.

Star: Hey, don’t misinterpret my thought bubble! I’m still an advocate for mass familial destruction.

I can dream.


However, when it comes to coalescing, these kids haven’t been doing too bad. The kitchen party thing seems to have caught on and it’s been magically building everyone’s relationships. Success without effort—my favourite kind.

Star: If you’re happy and you know it clap your… Shoot, which body part am I clapping?

Razor: Another write-off in the heir race. Excellent

Ripper: What about me, man? I got the sweet moves and look, I’m getting more camera time than you this chapter!

True, but you will never be forgiven for the ponytail incident in the last one.


Just to acknowledge that he hasn’t died or anything, here’s Keg. That is all.


Ripper: Dude, where’s Razor?

Star: Who knows? Probably saving himself from certain death. Have you looked behind you?

Ah yes, Gurbin’s noble steed. That fool was still kicking around. As for young Razor…


Razor: Now wait a second, I was just on there and you exed out the—

SILENCE! What kind of leather-clad teenager actually goes to school every day? You are embarking on a day of old-fashioned, no good, dirty, rotten, pig-stealing TRUANCY.

Razor: But that doesn’t even—

I will not sit here and listen to your whining! Go inside and freshen up for your adventure.

Razor: Ugh, fine.


Inside, he ran into some unforeseen trouble. “Unforeseen” because this kind of scolding makes Tewl a flaming hypocrite.

Tewl: Why da fuck are you at home, kid? Why you not smokin’ weed behind a dumpster? Don’choo know how ta ditch??

Razor: Oh god, it’s hideous.


He didn’t take it to heart though. Instead, he spent all day exploring the crypts and, of course, doing his homework. Sigh… I guess you can’t win ‘em all.


Back at home, Tewl resumed his efforts to have a non-awkward conversation with Morgana. I honestly have no idea what these two are doing these days. I mean, they have five kids together and live under the same roof and yet they’ve pretty much ignored each other since the Pauline fiasco. It’s kind of sad, really.

Tewl: Now dat I dun disciplined dat twerp, looks like i’ss just you an’ me.

Morgana: Oh, happy day.


Tewl: Ya see Morgs, I actually got some pretty serious shit to tell ya.

Morgana: I’m listening.

Tewl: You know all dose other girls—dat Twihard creep Erin…


Tewl: Dat girl Sandi—ya know wif da face like a baboon butt?

Morgana: Um…


Tewl: Well, dey ain’t got nuffin’ on you, Morgs. I been thinkin’ real hard ‘bout it an’ compared wif all dem other hags, you da only woman fer me. I think it’s time we settled down, yo.


Morgana: I’m glad you’ve finally had this epiphany at seventy-something years old, Tewl, but since the kids were born we’ve let our relationship bar go down like the Titanic. We’re gonna have to start actually talking to each other before we can think about “settling down,” whatever you think that means.

Tewl: Whassa “Titanic”?


And why do you look so happy, lady? I thought you were anti-Tewlgana.

Star: Who cares? It’s time for me to get hotter and lose these microscopic bimple pox!

One can only hope.


Keg: A birthday?

He looks so hopeful here I just want to hug him. Or put him on a cheesy movie poster.

Gurbin: You go, little red fire man!

I got rid of him shortly after this. (Gurbin, I mean. Not Keg.) But who knows, maybe he’ll show up at the next waffle mishap?


Star: God, why are you taking a picture of my mom? We’re waiting for our makeovers here and I’m tired!

Hold your horses! We’re just taking a moment (and a not-so-flattering snapshot) to commemorate Morgana’s LTW completion! With these two birthdays, she officially became Surrounded by Family, though it beats me how she just NOW realized it. Those days with six toddlers terrorizing the household? Yeah, you’d think a mother would remember.

Also, Keg has a thing for aging up into ugly sweaters.


Post-Makeover Star! The Tewl runs strong in this one. She rolled Inappropriate… very appropriately.

Tewl: Zzzz… Yo man, I want my hover bed back. Zzzz…


And Keg the Artiste!

Keg: Could you be any more cliché?

Pardon? I don’t understand. Why are you not speaking French?

Keg: Mordez-moi.

There you go. 😀 Sassy Kegster rolled Family-Oriented as his fourth trait, making him a true chip off the old Morgana block. Gosh, you kids are so unoriginal.


And on a final note…

Rotter: I HATE this sink.

Don’t we all know it. Poor kid.

And that’s all for now. Next time: A Very Langurd Prom! Will these twerps actually get dates? Seems mighty unlikely. Will Morgana and Tewl ever build their bridges? I don’t know—I certainly wouldn’t trust any bridge built by Tewl…

Also, start thinking about who you’d like to see as heir! I’m gonna put up a poll after the next chapter. 😀

Happy Simming!


About gryffindork7

I like cats. This is a really thorough bio.

Posted on June 12, 2013, in Generashun 1 and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 9 Comments.

  1. Gurbin’s makeover was so funny.
    As for you forcing Razor to rebel, was hilarious. And then he did his homework.
    And Keg becoming French…
    Funny chapter!


  2. Gurbin Potatoparty? I finally have a name for my firstborn! Yeahh!


  3. Other than the lack of relationship, why could Cleo not marry in? I want me some Christopher Steel in the legacy! Cleo and Razor sounds like a brilliant pairing, IMHO.


    • Cleo wasn’t allowed to move back into the legacy household because she had already lived there and moved out (according to the rules, that’s a no-no — it’s like moving a spare back in after kicking them out, to get more points out of them). Plus, she technically never existed because she broke my eight-sim cap. 😛 I know I could have bent the rules if I really wanted to, but Ara did the job just as well. She ended up as one of my favourite sims ever. 😀


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