3.13 Hakuna Matata

Welcome back! I had planned to get this post out earlier, but you know. Plans. Who needs ‘em? Instead of writing, I spent a fantabulous weekend in Ottawa playing quidditch, sweating sunscreen into my eyes, and sitting on top of a refrigerator. Sorry not sorry.

We left off just as Razor, Lord of the Second Generation, was passing into the great beyond. Razor, who spent his life sparring against China’s fiercest, died on a perilous quest to pick flowers. I should have kept it to one screenshot, but the whole thing was such a clusterfuck that I had to draw it out, all slow and painful.

Zombie: FLEESSSSHHHHHH

Zombie: Flesh?

Zombie: Never mind, man, you’re cool.

He is such a cliché that he literally greeted death like an old friend. Or… rival?

Razor: Give it up, Grim. I’d like my wife back now.

Grim: *sigh* I’ve put this off as long as I could… Want to flip a coin for her?

Razor: No.

Teen: AWW SWEET MAN THIS IS BETTER THAN GAME OF THRONES

But nobody in that world dies picking flowers, you fool.

He then dove into his HOLY SHIT MASSIVE tombstone while the stray canines of Riverview paid their respects.

Dog: A moment of silence, please.

Before I start eugooglizing him, let me blow your mind. THIS MAN LIVED FOR 117 DAYS. No typo. One hundred and seventeen. I’ve never heard of a sim living that long on normal lifespan, and I’m almost tempted to blame glitches except that nothing seemed amiss. His clock just kept ticking. No death flowers, no vegetarianism. I wondered if meditation made him live longer, but I just looked it up and that isn’t even a thing. So what the hell.

*ahem*

The sun set on the Honourable Mantis at 6:14pm on a Friday, just after the birth of his ninth grandchild (girl Valencia, born to son Tomahawk). Soul of a sage, old fart’s heart, whatever you want to call it—he devoted his life to Martial Arts and Gardening, maxing both skills. He picked up points in three other disciplines, too. Speaking of points, he died with 205,000 in lifetime happiness, including the 30k he got for his LTW. What a beast. I’ll get back to you on his epitaph because I forget it. He leaves behind a large family who may actually not survive without him. Oh dear.

And now for an ill-timed “I told you so” because…

HE WAS A REBEL. HIS LIFE WAS A LIE.

Still, when the shockwave of his death hit the legacy house, it took the spring out of everyone’s step.

The boys slunk off to the shed to wallow in homework and dark magic.

Balboa: Grandpaaaaa nooooo… There is no jellybean to make this better…

Lev started inviting strangers into her bedroom.

Lev: Hey Mister, I got an emergency. My grandpa died and I like, really need someone to read me Raymundo right now. Are you the man for the job?

Paparazzi: Er…

And Dax just… lost it. You know, if he has anything left to lose.

Dax: Pool.

But it was undoubtedly Lira who took it the hardest.

Lira: You can’t heal a porcelain heart.

No, but you can take solace in your pet carrion eater.

Lira: Dippy, fly south to my cousin Malibu Barbie and tell her it’s not a Barbie world anymore.

Dippy: Chirrup?

Sibling bonding time! But only blonde couch potatoes are invited.

Drachma: Wow, are you always this bad?

Florin: I have to focus on my studies.

Drachma: Sure, go nurse your ego. Rematch anytime!

You may be wondering why Dax is still here. Well, as much as I would love him and Lance to live out their pitiful lives together, he’s really close to his LTW and you know how I am with those legacy points. He stays, and we get awkward tabletimes like this.

Dax: Soooo what’cha eatin’?

Katana: Squashed bananas.

Dax: Can I have a bite?

Katana: I’ll bite you.

Lira: I wish for a loving family with tender hearts and lots of class.

Katana: Dang nabbit, who threw out my Pop Tarts? I wasn’t done with those.

Katana: I mean, Happy Birthday, honey!

Lira: Too little too late, Mama.

Lira: To infinity, and beyond!

Katana: Boo! You’re not flying, you’re falling with style!

“Fall with style” she did. She came down to Earth looking like more doll-like than ever. I am never happier than when my Sims match the inflated personalities I force on them. 😀 Unfortunately, her new trait is Can’t Stand Art. Hahahaha have fun hating yourself, china doll.

Also, her jaw outgrew her hairstyle, but I still like it so too bad.

I can’t believe I haven’t introduced these guys yet. They’ve been our resident paparazzi (no really, they live here—on the front lawn) since the family moved in. Emmett Bishop and Fidel Ludwig are quite the pair; I want them to have their own radio show. You’ll see more of them soon.

But first, get a load of Katana’s “motherly” face.

Katana: Apparently I’m dragging you to Egypt or something. Pack a bag, you can sit in the trunk.

Balboa: Really?! SCORE!

STOP CRYING WHEN I SEND YOU TO FUN PLACES YOU MORONS

Katana is now working for the company she just brought down, but that’s okay. We don’t have morals anyway.

Balboa had a great first day in Al Simhara.

Tourist: WOOOO! It’s your birthday!

Balboa: It is? Where are the sparkles?

Balboa: She lied to me. It’s not really my birthday.

No, and whose house are you in?

The House of Luuuuuurv, it seems, as this girl’s parents would not stop making out. And she looked way too supportive.

Balboa: Excuse me, I’m looking for a place to sleep.

Dunya: There’s a bed upstairs if you want.

Balboa: Mmmm. Is it a double? Does it have feather pillows?

Dunya: Sure does. Why don’t you head up there and I’ll join you in five minutes?

Balboa: Why, are you bringing me warm milk with honey?

Dunya: Oh, I’ll bring honey alright.

Balboa: Thanks, you the best!

Balboa: Aww yissss, it’s a Tempurpedic!

And he promptly fell asleep.

Buuuuut funny story. Dunya Barakat’s parents are part of the Morcucorp resistance that Katana just betrayed.

Dunya: I have the traitor’s son upstairs. He’s out like a light.

Raffi: Splendid, splendid.

Hostage or no, Katana was preoccupied with tombs. Yay, tombs. How I love thee.

Katana: Do you want to make me a ghost? This is how you make me a ghost.

Sam’s Puzzing Process: So many options! I’ll just try them all in order because they are clearly IDENTICAL.

I am such a dolt sometimes.

Katana: Oooooh, fire. That’s new.

Katana: No, fire! Bad fire!

So this happened, and there was no dive well around, and obviously no shower, and I just paused my game and hyperventilated and thought “Shit, this is the end.”

But then I realized she had this in her inventory, and I thought “I am a genius.” Thank the gods for personal hygiene.

I probably panicked for nothing though. Can Sims die from fire traps? Can they even die on vacation? Why don’t I know the answers to these questions??

Katana: Oh, hey Weston… Not much. Just under the pyramids. Tomb raiding, being on fire—the usual.

Katana: Well, that’s creepy.

No kidding. I flipped out when my camera turned the corner, ‘cause we never see people down here.

Unless they’re all dead and embalmed. And stupid looking, heehee. XD

Katana: Hey Buttface, want some mummy snacks?

Mummy: Snaaaaaaaacks!

Katana: Too bad, all mine.

Mummy: Nooooooooo! Snaaaaaaacks!

The mummy took its snacks very seriously. And Katana got a negative moodlet from the food, alerting me to the fact that I wasn’t using it properly. If anyone ever tells you it’s impossible to be bad at The Sims… just send them to this blog.

On the bright side, Katana had her first mummy victory about an hour later.

Katana: Take that, Mugsy! I mean Shebi Mazzamesses III!

Katana: Done with that shit, let’s move on.

Mummy: Really? I’m just going to disintegrate? What a cop-out.

She at least had the good grace to clean him up…

…and then put him down again so that he turned into leaves. How eco-friendly.

Her next mission was comparatively risk-free. All she had to do was take pictures of landmarks.

Katana: And here we have the Triangular Rock Things, where you can experience the natural wonders of mummy brawls, darts in the crotch, and being on fire.

Aren’t you sold on this whole Egypt thing?

The mission lady must not get out much, because…

Yeah, it was a life-threatening quest alright.

Mother and son were reunited at last, after Balboa had been irreparably brainwashed by the Barakats.

Balboa: Hey traitor, I’ve got a message for you. Let me relay it through my hand puppet. If you ever want to see your precious son again, come to the Daisy House at 9pm and hand over— aww shit Dalida, we just sent the boy out the door. There is a hole in this plan.

Katana: That’s creepy. Cut it out.

I know brainwashing isn’t *technically* possible in The Sims, but there is no other explanation for Balboa’s incessant bitching. Unless it’s jellybean withdrawal.

Balboa: Look at me, I’m a fancy double agent! Just call me Severus Snape! Don’t wash my hair, please!

I even had her spam him with nice interactions, but…

Katana: Oh, YOU’RE having a bad day? Try getting set on fire and beaten up and clicking shutters for three days. That shit dangerous! I could have DIED!

Balboa: Merp.

(I’m sorry, that’s just what his face looks like it’s saying.)

Fidel: Ms. Langurd! Ms. Langurd!

Emmett: How was the trip?

Fidel: What’s the goss?

Emmett: Any new kids on the horizon?

Katana: Get out of my house.

Now that Balboa’s been out of the country once, he thinks he’s all worldly and knowledgeable about life.

Boa: You should really think about getting married young. It’s a great way to get tax benefits.

Drachma: I am married. To this cake.

Drachma is definitely a chip off the ol’ immovable block of Katana, but I love her for it.

Drachma: Hey broseph, you ready for that rematch?

Florin: Ugh, fine.

Drachma: This is really nacho day, is it?

Florin: You’re so m— Ha. Haha. Nacho day. Nice one.

Drachma & Florin: DAMN LAG!

Now that’s true bonding. 🙂

Here comes Dr. Weston with very special orders!

Katana: Oops, I broke my marriage. Think you can fix it?

Weston: I’m sorry, it’s beyond repair. It’ll have to be amputated.

Dax; *sniffle* *sob*

Katana: Say, maybe I could get like a prosthetic one?

Weston: It could be done.

Katana: Eh? How about it?

Weston: Oh shit, we’ve been talking serious this whole time?

You can’t escape us now, Weston. Heheheheheh.

Weston Langurd, who was previously Weston Spenster-Sekemoto and Weston Jolina-Sekemoto before that, has been kicking around in this story forever, but I’ve never known a single one of his traits. Now I know he’s Shy, Excitable, Easily Impressed, a Technophobe, and BIG FAT BLANK. My game loves doing that. I filled it in randomly with Frugal, which might do the family some good. He’s four days younger than Katana, so at least my aging clocks seem to be in check.

The Lazy Trio was completely oblivious to their mother getting married on the front walkway.

Balboa: Guys, this is so much fun!

Florin: Water you talking about? You’re losing.

Drachma: Nice one!

Balboa: I’m losing? Aww man, I’ve been looking at the wrong screen this whole time!

Drachma: That’s rough.

Jellybeans make all your worries go away.

Balboa: Heehahehuuaheha oooooh sparkles.

Now, y’all should know why I moved Weston in. He helped create (a part of) the next generation, which means I can milk him for all he’s worth. I figured his LTW would be in the medical career, and I’d at least have to get him a few promotions, but actually, it was “Private Museum: Have a current relic collection worth at least $20,000.”

WELL THAT WAS EASY.

Weston: Wow, thanks, Katana! You just accomplished all my dreams for me!

Katana: Damn freeloader.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

I lied. This isn’t the last chapter. The next one is super short though, just wait. Well, hopefully you won’t have too much waiting to do. I just got a new laptop and the keyboard feels like a cloud so I just keep typing typing typing for the mere satisfaction of hitting keys. (This is how you write gud.)

Happy Simming!

-Sam

P.S. Happy Canada Day! 🙂