3.14 Eureka!

Alternative title: “Weston Learns to Langurd,” or “THANK THE HIGH HEAVENS WE HAVE MADE IT AT LAST.”

Welcome to the final instalment of Generation 3! Last time, the children of Generation Four acquired a new stepfather in the form of Weston Jolina-Spenster-Sekemoto. You know, Botox man? Floating glitch face? Breeding experiment? That’s the one. He’s one of us now. Or so he thinks…

Lira wasted no time in establishing the order of things.

Lira: Do you see this beautiful bicep?

Weston: What bicep?

Lira: Precisely. If you ever hurt my mama, you won’t even see it coming.

You’d think that with Drachma’s real father in the house now, the two of them might bond over video games and make some heart-warming screenshots. LOL nope, but here’s some kid she brought home from school. His name is (probably) Hiram.

Drachma: Wanna do Rainbow Road next?

Hiram: That sounds  sparkly and fun! It can’t possibly be hard!

And now it’s time for the Fidel and Emmett Show. I warned you, they’re comedy gold.

Fidel: This has to stop, man. You can hang around this girl’s house all you want, but you’ll always be some paparazzi scum to her. Get what I’m saying?

Emmett: I refuse to believe that, Fidel. Katana Langurd is in love with me.

Emmett: I DO BELIEVE MY ARSE IS ON FIRE

Fidel: Oh yeah? Maybe your beloved Katana will come and save you. HAHAHAHAHA… or not.

Katana: What the hell is this?

Emmett: The sun god has stricken me down! Help, help for a poor weary soul!

Katana: Jeez. Why would you stand out here in a sweater, dipshit?

Fidel: Excuse me, ma’am. Did you just rescue my friend here?

Katana: Uh, yeah, I think I just did.

Fidel: No biggie, you just made his life is all.

Emmett: She… noticed me. I couldn’t have orchestrated a better meeting.

I wasn’t kidding when I said they lived here. I have never seen them leave. In fact, they are such a permanent fixture that Weston felt the need to go bond with them, because you know, if you wanna be my lover, you gotta get with my charred-as-fuck, homeless stalker friends.

Emmett: Do you hear that, Fidel? We’re Katana’s friends!

Weston: Oh, you guys are a hoot!

Weston: No really, y’all are too much!

Fidel: It’s a water balloon fight, man. Keep it in your pants.

His next act as Overzealous Stepfather was to put Balboa in a time-out. Uh-oh, Weston, you may have crossed a line.

Balboa: Aww man, this sucks. There’s no possible way I can get out of this pickle.

Weston: I’d better make sure the toilets are clean.

I think his standards are too high.

Weston: Hotdogs again? Shouldn’t we be eating something more nutritious?

Katana: What do you say to your father, Lev?

Lev:  A Langurd is made of carcinogens and mystery meat.

Katana: Shut up and deep-throat it, pretty boy.

And then it was off to the Summer Festival for the second time this generation. When we arrived, these rollerskates were having the time of their lives.

Rollerskates: YOLO

Then, Yoloskates suddenly turned into Lance’s mopey non-husband. I’m sure he was having more fun in his rollerskate form.

Katana: Hey Eddy, how’s the marriage?

Eddy: Rub it in, why don’t you.

As for her own husband, she had many doubts as to his capacity to uphold the Langurd lifestyle. So she put him to the ultimate test.

Weston: I’m sorry, bowels…

He passed with flying colours! I didn’t think he had it in him.

Weston: More… hotdogs? I’m gonna be sick…

Katana: I see I still have work to do.

Townie: Good luck with the rest of your life, bud!

On this day of summer fun, the teens of the house formed a ridiculously fashionable homework club.

Balboa: Hey guys, where’s my pencil?

Florin: You ate it ten minutes ago when Lira dared you.

Balboa: Oh, right.

Homework Club turned into Texting Club, as it tends to go.

Balboa: My phone is making a sound.

Answer it, dunderhead.

It’s Stoner Girl!

Balboa: So you’re cool with the fact that I pissed in your front hall?

Good idea, let’s bring that up.

I wanted to start this caption with “poor, lonely Florin,” but the fact of the matter is that he’s not poor or lonely at all. Self-confidence counts for everything, and he thinks he’s the absolute shiz.

Florin: How 2 B Kewl… Step 1, get allll teh gurlz wif ur stylish fauxhawk. LOL SWAG

I don’t remember if Balboa went on the date or not, but either way he stayed out late enough to get grounded. By his real father this time.

Dax: Now stand there on one foot ‘til the sun comes up, sonny boy. I’m the master of discipline!

No.

Yes.

But first.

Katana: Don’t mind me, I’m just stretching my inner party animal.

Oh yeah, that fifth trait I always forget about.

Speaking of forgetting, I totally saw this coming. Which is why it happened unceremoniously, in public, under terrible lighting. Duh.

Katana: What are we talking about?

Katana: Fuuuuuck thiiiiiis.

After a quick makeover, I no longer miss Razor because we have a acquired a replacement in the kickass elder department.

Katana: I will acquire you.

what

Because hotdogs should mark all the important milestones in life, and because Katana had to see if she still had it in her. I mean come on, she lost to Weston and he was a n00b.

Katana: There’s no win or lose, only free food in my belly.

For shame, man. She beat you by half the plate.

HOLY GUACAMOLE, do you see what I see? Emmett Bishop of the paparazzi duo has left the property.

Lev: That’s because he’s my new butler, obviously. Say, Emmett, how many moons does Uranus have?

Emmett: Enough for about 27 inappropriate jokes, my lady.

Lev: Thank you, good sir.

I’m about to spend four screenshots hating on Dax, so let me be nice for a second. Kudos to old Loopy-Pants for making his LTW! It wasn’t exactly difficult, but considering how many times he missed work due to his own stupidity… Did I say I was being nice? Nah, that’s too hard.

Balboa: Tired of your shit, Pa!

Dax: Wha— what are you doing?

Dax: HAYAYAYA! Let’s find you a new hobby, son. Something nice, like art.

Balboa: Nah, I’m good.

Weston: Nice work, kid.

Could’ve just as easily been you.

Katana: Have I mentioned you’re my favourite child?

Balboa: Not once in my life.

Dax: Do you have no sympathy left for me, Tannie?

Katana: Yes, actually.

Katana: I built you a coffin. For when you die. Soon.

That’s a, uh, fancy coffin for an ex-husband.

Katana: Don’t be dumb, this is mine. Dax gets the grey one over there.

Lira: Can I tell you a secret?

Florin: Please don’t.

Lira: Mother doesn’t love us. We’re all just money to her.

Lira: You, sir, are worth two of me. Balboa is the most valuable of all. And Drachma, well, she’s just obsolete.

Florin: How can you say that?

Lira: Of course, I bear the face of the Father of Turks in a multitude of fun colours…

Lira: And you’re just some naked guy on a horse.

Florin: Stay away from me forever.

K let’s pretend I came up with a decent segue from “naked guy on a horse” to this.

Lev: Run like the wind, Bullseye Boomerang!

Lira: Do you still not understand me? I am trying to tell you we were all named after money. Is your head filled with stuffing or what?

Florin: No, it’s filled with… red jelly stuff.

Lira: I applaud you for that top-notch comeback.

Lira: ANDY’S HOME! Places, everyone!

Balboa: Ding dong, the witch is dead!

Florin: Get me out of here.

Drachma: A ghost at my birthday party? No thank you!

Morgana: Well gee, sorry for the inconvenience. I’m only your great-grandmother. No one important, really.

Drachma: What are you doing here?

Lev: We’re twins, silly!

Drachma: Since when?

Lev: Since we were born fourteen days ag—

Drachma: Rhetorical question, nerd.

Lucky this “nerd” got to upstage her grumpy sister.

Side note (is it really a sidenote? This whole chapter is a sidenote): Lev has the nicest face of any child Sim I’ve had in my game. It’s almost not pudding-y.

Errr…

Drachma: Good lord, woman. And you call yourself my twin…

Drachma: Stand back. I’ll show you how it’s done.

Lira: You failed. That’s isn’t how it’s done.

I should start culling the pre-makeover pics, but sometimes the background responses are worth it.

After a quick spin cycle and tumble dry, here are Westana’s night-and-day, ice-and-fire, north-and-south, I-get-it-already-so-stop-making-binary-metaphors TWINS!

If I didn’t drill it home enough, get this: Lev’s new trait is Hopeless Romantic. Drachma’s is Unflirty.

I would recap the rest of their traits, but you’re going to get the lowdown in like ten minutes when I post the heir poll, and I’m lazy.

I snapped this in CAS because I think Lev might be a faceclone? She definitely has some of Weston’s jawline going on, and her upper lip is wonkier than Katana’s. But otherwise, she is very much her mother. Dammit, Lev, you kinda botched three generations of flawless genetic variety. But I still like you.

Lev: Great birthday party, huh?

Drachma: Would you shut up? The chapter’s ending.

Right you are, Drachma. I was so eager to get this business started that I couldn’t even wait for all five kids to stand still. Well, I did wait, but it couldn’t be done. Sims are stupid. And so I present to you, in all their imperfect, asymmetrical glory—Katana’s neglected whelps!

Lev: Bed now.

Florin: See ya.

Yeah, the family picture thing never seems to work out.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

GUYS. IT’S OVER. WE DID IT. I DON’T EVEN. I CAN’T EVEN.

It’s only Generation Four, Sam. Get over yourself.

NO. I WON’T. I REFUSE.

I’ll admit, I’m still awed that I made it past Generation Two. I’m waiting for something to go wrong. Touch wood! Oh my gosh, touch all kinds of wood for me, would you please? I should go make a copy of these guys that’s not on the same hard drive as the other seventeen.

Stay tuned for an heir poll coming very shortly! And I’ll sit here and try to control my breathing.

Happy Simming!

-Sam

P.S. The heir poll is now live right over this a’way.