6.6 Rockabye Baby

If that title doesn’t tell you we’re getting to the good stuff, then let me tell you right now—we’re getting to the good stuff!

Last time, Gumby finally died but Frieda’s Gold Digger LTW still registered as incomplete. Shit was lost; tables were very nearly flipped. Now we take deep breaths and try to figure out the meaning of this.

Frieda: Yes hello, I’d like to request a refund on my life.

Secretly, I think she’s a little more torn up than she’s letting on.

Frieda: I don’t know why you would say that.

Others make no secret of their grief.

Calamity: Poor Daddy will never get to meet his grandbaby…

Quinn: Rest in peace, oh mighty Langurd patriarch whom I never met.

Calamity: Actually he wasn’t mighty at all, but we still loved him mostly.

In her fragile state, our heiress gets spontaneous.

Cal: I think Daddy would want me to do this…

Quinn: What, fling expensive jewellery onto the floor?

Cal: Precisely.

Cal: But here, I’ll let you do the honours.

Doorbell: DING DONG

WHO DARES RUIN THIS PRECIOUS MOMENT?

Darn trick-or-treaters, you will regret this!

Frieda: Candy? You think I can afford candy when my husband just died?? He didn’t even leave me his banking details! OH, HOW FATE HAS PLAYED ME!

Fiona: I told you we were better off looting dumpsters.

Riordan: Don’t worry Miss, it’s going to be okay.

Frieda: You remind me so much of him…

Kid: Why is she doing that to your face?

Officially putting all the Langurds on house arrest until they’re able to perform basic functions.

It’s kinda spooky that the family coward died on Spooky Day, and even more so when you realize that his mother Lira was born on Spooky Day. Coincidence? Absolutely.

Frieda: I shall carve this pumpkin in his honour.

Dear lord I hope it’s the one on the right.

One thing I forgot to mention about Quinnyboy: his LTW is Star News Anchor. He’s currently floundering around Journalism Level 4, which means he’ll have to make good use of his ~18 remaining days of life. #onlyalittlebitter

Quinn: I dunno, I’m really trying to slim down for my wedding day…

Also Quinn: Nah man, you eat that taco, you deserve it!

I despise the waistline on this maternity dress, but it also suits Calamity so well considering I can’t use CASt on pregnant ghosts. Perfectionist struggles. Also, look how close we are to Gen. 7!!!

Cal: I’m going to sleep until this kid starts making a break for it.

Careful, I wouldn’t put it past you to sleep through labour.

Quinn: Hello world, bring on the sagging cheeks and brittle bones!

It’s at precisely this moment that I realize Frieda has yet to paint his portrait. Much cursing ensues.

She manages to snap this dodgy pic in the knick of time, but the lighting is crap and there’s a fucking chandelier in his head.

Frieda: I WILL fuck this up.

I know you will. I guess we’ll have to settle for an elder portrait. Nothing like ruining a six-generation streak. 😦

Today in unconventional phone calls…

Quinn: Yes hello, I’d like to buy a new face please.

Elder Quinn is… significantly less quirky-cute than his adult self.

For whatever reason, Calamity decides this is a better place to sleep out her pregnancy than an actual bed.

Cal: I feel so close to my father.

Yeah, that’s not all you’re close to. Jeez, I knew Fiasco wouldn’t fare well in the real world, but I expected him to last a little longer than this.

Fiasco: I’M DOING FINE.

Rooting for you, buddy.

Arabella: Oh darling, please tell me you are not about to give birth in a crypt.

Cal: I just want my baby to know her granddaddy!

Arabella: Blimey, who could that be at the door?

Cal: What door?

Gumby: Surprise.

Calamity: …Was this planned?

Actually, not at all.

Calamity: Look Dad, you’re about to be a grandfather!

Gumby: Please oh please let it not be another ghost baby.

Calamity: Oh hey, a ghost baby!

Gumby: Are you even up there?

Shut up Gumby, ghosts aren’t universally bad just ‘cause you suck at being one.

This particular ghost is Kip Langurd. Born under the dumb full moon glow that I keep meaning to mod out of my game, Kip is a Slob who Hates the Outdoors. I failed to write down anything else.

Calamity: How could you be scared of anything so tiny?

Good question, GUMBY.

Frieda: Get up you pathetic swab, I’ve got things to discuss with you.

Here goes our second stab at this Gold Digger business. Most sources I consulted at the time (and some of you kindly in the comments!) said that Frieda would actually have to see Gumby’s ghost to complete the wish. Which makes sense – I mean, it’s right there in the description. “See ghost of wealthy spouse.”

Well, clearly she’s seen him. But he won’t get off the floor long enough to interact with her.

Frieda: Hurry up, it’s almost morning!

Gumby: I’m trying, I’m trying!

Aaaand still nothing.

Frieda: Oh Gumby, I’ve waited so long for this and it’s all ruined.

Gumby: I’m sorry I died wrong?

My next source suggests that because Ghost Gumby isn’t technically her husband, the game isn’t counting him as her “wealthy spouse.” Seems legit.

So I tweak their relationship status via illegal methods, but even that flops, and in the end no one is happy.

Gumby: Uh-uh, I can’t be married to a ghost. I did that once before and it wasn’t a good time.

Frieda: What did I ever see in you?

I hate to side with Gumby in his plight against ghost babies, but I am kinda ready for my sims to stop being revolted by each other.

Rhapsody: Ugh, you already have that clown’s nose.

There is definitely a mod for this and I am definitely too lazy to download it.

Well hey Omen, why are you dressed suspiciously like your little brother?

Omen: Best Man duties beckon.

Oh god, that’s right. Here goes our first attempt at a bachelor party since Gen. 2!

Omen: So you brought the snacks, right?

Quinn: Why would I bring snacks to my own bachelor party?

Omen: So what you’re saying is we have no food at all.

Quinn: Hahaha, nope!

Breandan: Fools, are you hearing this? There is no food!

Donte: Shut up and get your booze on, Lancelot!

Breandan: If thou darest to shed that horse piss on mine armour—

The night is full of surprises that are entirely Omen’s fault.

Quinn: I told you not to get a stripper, man.

Omen: That’s definitely code for “get a stripper.”

Quinn: Ah well, better hope your sister doesn’t check in on us.

Quinn: Oh, hey Cal. There is definitely not a stripper at this party.

Donte: Then what do you call that over there?

Breandan: There are definitely more strippers here than snacks, I’ll tell you that.

Quinn: Okay, so there might be a stripper here. But she’s not even attractive, I swear!

Officially dubbing this filter “Evidence that Quinn is a Slime.”

Good thing he really does have the world’s most low-maintenance bride. After getting all dressed up for no reason, Cal’s last night of freedom turns into Rotten Waffles with Mom™, and she’s quite okay with that.

Calamity: This is how I live now and how I will live forever. No man can change me.

Back at the “party”…

Quinn: Seems like a good time to make your first speech as my best man, don’t you think?

Omen: Of course, I’ve only been prepared for this moment since our first chess match.

Quinn: I love you, man.

‘

Omen: Hey everyone, I need you to stop what you’re doing and listen up!

Donte: Well gee, I’d love to stop STARVING but you’ve made that impossible, haven’t you?

Quinn: I think maybe we should bring snacks next time.

Omen: “Next time”?

Omen: This studly gentleman is going to marry my sister tomorrow and I couldn’t be happier except if I got to marry him myself.

Quinn: Save that talk for the bedroom, you hunk.

Quinn: Okay, now please help me write my vows.

Omen: Oh, I got this! Calamity, our love is like rowing upstream in a thunderstorm…

Quinn: Mm-hmm, good stuff.

Omen: Or swinging a baseball bat at a ping-pong ball…

Omen: Because you’re too loco crazy to recognize a mixed metaphor.

Quinn: I like it!

Paparazzi: No woman is going to take that well.

Did I deliberately upstage Rhapsody’s birthday with matrimonial celebrations? Unlikely, but I’m also not sorry that it worked out that way.

Rhapsody: One step closer to being reincarnated as a beetle or a rocking chair!

Rhapsody: Because either of those would be a better life than this one.

She rolls Born Saleswoman and gets made over to look exactly the same as her teenage self. My spares are precious to me, can’t you tell?

Calamity may or may not have had another run-in with the Tub Monster.

Cal: You’re trying to put it delicately but it just ends up sounding grosser.

Don’t I know it. And when I say “may or may not,” I’m actually not sure whether this is morning sickness or the aftermath of Rotten Waffles with Mom™. My timelines are as fucked as my sims’ eating habits.

It may be for the best if she isn’t expecting, since she hasn’t done much in the way of parenting the first one.

Cal: How’s Kip?

Crash: …

Cal: Can I hold her?

Crash: …

Cal: How about now?

Rhapsody: Relax, just leave it to us. Don’t you know it’s all spares are good for?

That’s right, and you have important heir duties to attend to. Like talking your mother off a ledge.

Frieda: I’m going to go flush myself down a toilet like Moaning Myrtle.

Cal: Mom, wait! There’s one more thing we can try!

Yes, in my desperation to trigger Frieda’s LTW, I decided that actually seeing Gumby’s ghost materialize in front of her might finally do the trick. Little did I know, I actually know very little about how dragons work.

Cal: Alright Blubsy, summon a ghost!

Blubsy: Cacaw!

Jihaan: I have been summoned by a dragon they call Blubsy.

Calamity: You were supposed to be my father!

Jihaan: I could be your father.

Calamity: We’ll see about that.

Calamity: Die, imposter!

Jihaan: What the hell kind of test is this?

Calamity: If you were my Dad, you’d scream even louder at the duck.

With Plans A through Z thoroughly exhausted, it seems this glitch has defeated us. The saga concludes in 6.7.

What a lovely, restful night before your wedding day! After the disaster that was the bachelor party, we go all out on the catering this time.

Pizzy Guy: Pizza delivery!

Calamity: Thanks, I’ll take that.

Pizza Guy: Huh, I guess no one’s home. Could’a sworn I heard a voice though…

Pizza Guy: Better take it round back.

Calamity: Rude.

Pizza Guy: I am SO good at my job!

Conveniently, that spot actually works pretty well for us.

The haphazard collection of guests really does not.

Aislin: Oh child, please tell me you are not about to proposition the bride on her wedding day.

Breandan: What a fine set of chalices you have, milady.

Calamity: Dude, seriously? I know I’m a Langurd, but I do have some standards.

Breandan: But I haven’t yet shown you my broadsword!

Aislin: What does that even mean?

Luckily, there is an easy way to shut this down.

Cal: I hear you like getting sprayed with champagne.

Breandan: PLEASE REFRAIN

Emily: My Mandrake would have loved to be sprayed with champagne.

Yeah, funny story. Mandrake (who married Emily after a brief thing with my simself) actually died during the bachelor party we totally forgot to invite him to. He outlived Gumby though, so at least there’s that?

He also topped the Acrobat career in his old age, confirming my perpetual suspicion that I am the only thing holding my sims back from greatness.

All in all, Quilamity’s big day doesn’t exceed expectations. The pre-party is a dud.

The ceremony is a shitshow.

But the moment itself is admittedly kinda beautiful.

Quinn: Our love is like paddling upstream in a thunderstorm…

Cal: Oh shit, I knew I was forgetting something.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

I daresay this generation has finally found its momentum! Just as well, since the Langurds’ fifth birthday is just around the corner on July 12th! It’s that time of year again when I realize this legacy is getting old, promptly have an existential crisis about my lack of productivity, and start getting batshit ideas like this one and this one.

I may have another one up my sleeve as we speak (that’s a lie; I’m wearing spaghetti straps) but I need some time to meditate on whether it’s too ambitious. Watch this space. Well no, watch your WordPress feed for the next post after this one. DON’T HEED MY INSTRUCTIONS. I’M A MESS.

Happy 4th of July to my American readers, Happy belated Canada Day to my compatriots, and a big old traditional Happy Simming to everyone else!

-Sam

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