6.4 Once Upon a Nightmare

Funny story. So I’m at this quiet writing session at a local café, determined to pen some legacy words for the first time in three months. So far, I’ve stared at this page for a solid twenty minutes, trying to convince myself that I can write without caffeine. I can’t figure out where the self-serve coffee is, and the only way to find it is by blindly wandering through a minefield of easily-disturbed introverts.

Needless to say, addiction won out over anxiety (this time) and I made the expedition. Turns out it was ten steps long and only involved eye contact with like three people, but I still feel accomplished.

Now that we know how pathetic I am, let me remind you all what happened at the end of last chapter.

Frieda: What is that thing cleaning up our dishes? Did you buy an ogre slave?

Sky: Oh, that’s your son. I made him ugly so he can find his inner beauty and stuff.

Frieda: Ha! But what’s the point when he was already ugly?

Fiasco: My life reeks of sour grapes.

Maybe because you haven’t left the wine cellar in three days?

As always, life around here is a constant series of “Things Could Be Worse.” In this case, Tragic Crash™ has spent so many hours contemplating life that he has developed a tragic suntan. Tragic Crash™ also gained new meaning when my game started self-destructing every time I entered photography mode near a pool. Fml.

But don’t worry, I replayed everything up to the crash, and Fiasco is just as ugly as ever. Possibly uglier.

Fiasco: Fee fie foe f— hey, stop miscaptioning me!

Sorry, too easy.

In our other miniseries, Fruitless Undertakings with Rhapsody™, the title character tries bonding with her mother.

Rhapsody: Hey, can you teach me how to be a gold digger? It may be the only option I have left in life.

Frieda: You think I know shit about gold digging? I’m five kids deep and your father doesn’t even have a toe in the grave. So many regrets.

Rhapsody: Good talk.

On a brighter note, I am stupidly excited to watch Skydancer do this all day.

Sky: You’re hot.

Bradan: Thanks.

Sky: Let me fix that for you.

Bradan: What?

Sky: You’re welcome.

Bradan: What.

Sky: Someone’s looking a little blue today.

Maeve: Racist.

Sky: I think I know just the thing to brighten up your day…

Maeve: Don’t you start with the sparkles again—

Skydancer: SPARKLES!

Maeve: FUUUUUUUU—

Sky: My bad.

Maeve: I hate you.

Sky: Care to partake in an experimental procedure?

Ava: I don’t know, I’m pregnant…

Sky: Trust me, I’m a doctor.

Sky: All done.

Ava: *isn’t pregnant anymore*

That one went swimmingly.

Sean: Knock knock.

Sky: Who’s there?

Sean: Al.

Sky: Al who?

Sean: Al let you off the hook for murdering my unborn child if you don’t use your ugly spell on me!

Sky: Hahaha, good one!

Sean: I know right?

Sky: Nice try, Al, but Hugh’re not getting out of this one.

Sean: Why are you like this?

(Hugh is the guy in her thought bubble, just in case you… yeah… well anyway, moving on.)

When did our resident good girl go from Fairy Godmother to casually sabotaging the lives of strangers?

Sky: I think this is a really good look for you.

Aaron: *unimpressed*

Sky: I think this will really help you get your life back on track.

Hugh: If you say so.

Sky: Let’s really try to work on your honesty, okay?

Nina: Why do you say that?

Sky: I just nose— I mean, uh, know these things.

Note Siobahn Murphy-Finnigan, also in maternity wear pre-sparkles.

Also no longer in maternity wear after the spell.

Siobahn: I pledge my life to Satan.

Sky: That’s it, follow your dreams!

And perhaps to make up for killing two babies today…

Sky: I guarantee this will make you a better mother.

Cara: Haha wow, I’m so glad we’re adopted.

Cassidy: I want my money back.

What a perfect time for a Langurd to drop by.

Crash: *enthusiastic gestures*

Sophie: Are you trying to say you love my house?

Crash: *nods*

Sophie: Dude, seriously? Our motives are all bottomed out and we hate each other.

Exactly, he’s right at home.

And for the heiress’s first appearance this chapter: a grainy shot through a tinted window.

Calamity: Yeah because some of us are actually good at our jobs.

Watch it.

Her one downfall as a firefighter? A complete and utter lack of urgency. Unsure as yet whether this will be a dealbreaker.

Calamity: I’m coming, helpless townfolk!

Yeah, I hope y’all can hold on for approximately three more hours.

She isn’t exactly chomping at the bit on the romance thing either.

Calamity: Hey Quinn, how long-term would you say your relationship with this chess table is?

Quinn: I dunno, we’re talking somewhere between Darcy and Elizabeth and Zeus and Hera.

Calamity: Oh, okay.

Calamity: Pls help fairy godmother, he won’t even look at me!

Sky: Got a prince to win over, eh? Well don’t worry, you’ve come to the right person.

I object.

Sky: Let’s get a look at you… No ambition, terrible fashion sense, forever napping… Ah yes, there is one thing I can do.

Cal: Really?

Sky: All done.

Cal: Cool, thanks!

Another one for the quota, and another shot in this legacy’s bullet-ridden foot.

Cal’s first challenge is overcoming the chess table; her second is getting past the overprotective bro. Quinn’s overprotective bro, that is.

Omen: Alright Flannagan, I don’t know why you are still at my house, but if it isn’t to hang out with me then I must insist that you leave.

Quinn: Hey now, don’t be like that.

The sun rises and whaddya know, the sight of Calamity’s ugly mug is enough to get him out of that blasted chair.

Quinn: Dude, what happened to your sister?

Omen: Oh sure, it’s always about her. I see how it is.

With both obstacles cleared, she’s home free.

Calamity: I’ve decided I need a man who likes me for me. So ta-da, this is what I really look like!

Quinn: Yeah, no thanks.

Cal: Oh…

So Quinn failed the Shallow Hal Test, but we’re not exactly in a position to have standards, so Cal will dust off her pride and try again later.

And on the topic of ill-fated romances, how about a celebrity appearance from out favourite mommy’s boy? I think I sense some tension here.

Donte: Skydancer.

Sky: Don’t.

Donte: But I didn’t even do anything!

This promises to be fun.

Indeed, he entertains her for hours with his immeasurable wit.

Don’t: Flap flap, I’m a fairy who can fly and stuff.

Sky: Actually that’s kind of offensive—

Don’t: Look at my gay sparkly wings.

Sky: Okay wow.

I don’t remember why I brought him to Dragon Valley, or what I was thinking when I played this, but for some reason I kept giving their relationship more kicks at the can. Maybe I saw something in that can that was worth salvaging. Maybe I just like kicking cans, okay?!?

Sky: So would you want to go see a movie or something?

Don’t: Nah, I’d hate to give up two hours of listening to myself talk.

Sky: I had a feeling you would say that.

Don’t: Hey, what are you doing?

Sky: Now there’s a face only a mother could love.

Don’t: You think so?!!

Sky: Let me rephrase.

Don’t: I’m still not gonna date you.

Sky: You realize I’m the only woman in the world who would go for you at this point, right?

Don’t: You’re a liar.

Sky: Look at yourself.

Don’t: I am radiant.

Sky: No.

The only way to regain one’s marbles after dealing with such unshakable stupidity.

Sky: What have I done to deserve this?

Gee, shall we relive the first half of this chapter?

Jk, here’s another episode of Tragic Crash instead. Our hero is looking more crotchety every day.

Crash: *silently disapproves of your very existence*

Ah, and here he is offering some cheese with a scowl to his newly rekindled parents. Take the hint, guys.

And in Fruitless Undertakings, Episode 4: Rhapsody does laundry. Rhapsody contemplates the meaning of life while staring at a bunch of strangers’ clothes.

Meanwhile, Frieda is a sparkling fountain of motherly love.

Frieda: HAHA, you’re uglier than your brother!

Fiasco: But Ma, my face is back to normal now.

Cal: So what? It’s still a close contest!

(Note that Fiasco’s face got fixed not because he’s a nice person, but because he had literally no human contact for the duration of the curse. I’m sure he will take a lot from this experience.)

Alright Cal, let’s make something happen. Catch that fool before he mates with the chess table.

Cal: Please date me, I’ll get plastic surgery if it means that much to you.

Quinn: You’d do that for me??

Cal: Lol no. And can you really talk when your hair looks like boogers and you dress like a circus clown?

Quinn: …

Cal: That’s right, you can’t. Now I’m going to drop you because you’re really heavy.

Quinn: …Well okay then.

_________________________________________________________________________________

I have no excuses. I’m not even busy. I just cower at the thought of being productive because I’m not a functional human.

Anyway, hello again! Thank you as always for continuing to read and comment while I’m slacking. ❤ I do not deserve such patient readers, and I promise I will reply to said comments soon. I also have a shit ton of blogs to catch up on because I avoid WordPress when I’m feeling guilty about not updating. I’ve taken a few peeks at the feed over the last four months, and let me just say, you all astound me with your prolificacy. (Prolificness? Prolificity? Idk, I’ve never had to learn this word since it doesn’t apply to me.)

And now for our end-of-chapter news headlines!

1) As of last week, I officially fulfilled 13yo Sam’s pipe dream of becoming a Moderator on Boolprop! Almost-24yo Sam is pretty excited about it too, and will probably be about twelve times more active on there from now on, so come hang out!!

2) Speaking of Boolprop, nominations for this year’s Golden Plumbobs are officially open! Go share the love and nominate some awesome blogs! Or don’t, I’m not the boss of you.

3) I feel like there should be three things, so in other news… Uhhhh, Happy Year of the Rooster? 🙂

See you soon I hope, and Happy Simming!

-Sam