6.7 Boulevard of Broken Dreams

And we’re off! Welcome to the first leg of a seven-day spirit journey. I hope you’re ready to feel closer to the Langurds than ever before (hey you in the back, I saw you swallow your vomit just now). Regrets? Absolutely not. Maybe a couple. Or twelve. Who am I kidding, guys? I’m in way over my head.

Our last instalment featured a disastrous bachelor party, a lacklustre wedding, and the birth of a Gen. 7 burrito, but not at all in that order. Don’t get me wrong—Cal and Quinn are totally traditional people who follow all the proper steps toward a conventional marriage.

Case in point—a timeless wedding ritual.

Cal: Is the cake good?

Quinn: WE MUST KNOW IF THE CAKE IS GOOD.

Skydancer: If I say no, does that doom you guys to infertility or something?

Followed by a honeymoon in the hot tub.

Quinn: Wow, I really am wrinkly. I can’t believe you married me.

Cal: I’ll just have to keep my eyes closed forever. What a terrible fate.

At least until the mood is shattered by VERY AUDIBLE sobs from directly beneath them.

Emily: How dare you be happy when Manny is dead!!!

I kind of enjoy the fact that Emily has been married to Cal’s cousin this whole time. It adds a new dimension to their animosity.

Emily: STOP ENJOYING THINGS!

Yeesh, sorry…

Let’s cut to a tragically tired Crash giving Kip an educational tour of her birthplace. Every Sim house has its routing quirks, right? Well, in this one, everyone’s favourite hobby is rocking the baby to sleep in the dungeons.

Some would argue that the dungeons are where a ghost like Kip belongs, but those people are dead now and we don’t listen to them.

Gumby: Hey, ghost wife.

Gumby: Wait… ghost wife?

Frieda: That’s right, punk. I’m giving you one last chance to cough up your credit card numbers. My next option is dying and haunting the shit out of you forever.

Gumby: Oh d-d-d-dear.

And that’s when our second ghost crisis strikes.

Frieda: So… how do I go about this dying thing?

This is the part where I admit to being an idiot and no one argues with me because, well, the evidence is irrefutable.

Somewhere in the chaos of playing various occults, of installing and re-installing mods, and of working this whole Gold Digger storyline, I neglected to become aware of one crucial thing.

Playable ghosts are not supposed to be immortal.

Frieda: Well shit.

I know my rep is beyond salvaging, but let me explain. When Gumby met Tatiana, Frieda’s mother, she was still a YA despite having three grown children—and when Frieda joined the family, her bar read “days until aging up: never.” I figured it was just a ghost thing (having never played one before) and that maybe she’d go back to the Netherworld without warning when her time was up. In retrospect that makes no sense, but I’m really quite good at taking weird shit in my stride. Around this point in gameplay, it came to my attention that Frieda’s perma-youth was a result of MasterController’s default setting for ghosts, which is—you guessed it—“Aging:Off,” and that if I left her to it, she’d happily stick around forever.

TL;DR: By my calculations, Frieda is actually about 113 days old. Not only should she be a crusty hag by now, she could easily have died before Gumby if I’d had my settings right.

Which all amounts to…

But not intentionally. 😥

I had decided to take the LTW point and fuck the consequences, but after doing the math, I don’t feel right about it. Feel free to offer your two cents and don’t worry about hurting my pride; I flushed that down the toilet with my common sense.

Frieda isn’t the only one affected. Cal, Rhapsody, and even Fiasco somewhere out there (bless his soul) must feel a jolt when I set their clocks to start moving.

Cal: A jolt? Really?

Rhapsody: Admit it, it’s kind of funny.

As it turns out, our heiress is creeping up on her adult birthday. Luckily, she just bought herself a few more days.

Cal: I think I feel the jolt now.

She’s not even showing and she’s already rolling wishes for “catering” again.

Cal: Hey idiot, I’m right here.

Pizza Guy: Wow, I seriously must be going crazy. She sounds so real.

Cal: Somebody’s getting one star on Yelp.

The Precious winds up in the hands of a starving gym rat. Heck, who am I to deprive a face like that?

Especially when he just maxed the gym rat skill! Next step: a life of scholarly solitude. No, pop-up, he will not be “taking a jog around the town.” I’ve had quite enough of Omen’s proverb; my Sims max skills so they can forget about them and move on with life.

Speaking of which… about that “moving on” thing.

Frieda: This stack of pancakes is more meaningful than my existence.

I seldom admit to feeling bad for Sims, but Frieda’s pressing my guilt button right now. I cheated her out of an interesting life, and now I’ve cheated her out of the one thing her boring life was dedicated to. So screw it, I’ve decided she has a few days to find a new purpose before I pull the plug.

Rhapsody: What about painting, Mom? You’re pretty good at that.

Frieda: That’s true, I am pretty good.

“That’s true, I am pretty good.” –Frieda Langurd

Based on the fact that I hung it in the mausoleum, I guess I decided this was the best we could do. I’ll be having a word with myself about this.

P.S. Don’t mind the misplaced urns. Crypt renovations and stuff.

By turns, Frieda also pulls out literal masterpieces like this one. (Super helpful since we can’t sell it.)

Cal: Mom, no one will let me parent my child!

Frieda: Why are you whining? Go take a bubblebath. Knit a scarf. Open a falafel cart. The world is brimming with possibilities.

I guess parenthood is also an option.

Cal: I shall call him “Falafel.”

And he shall fly totally under the radar in high school.

Oh hey, guess what else flew totally under the radar? Look at that black hair, trynna rain on the parade of a brand new eye colour mutation, a solid mix of facial features, and our first ever elf ears!

Kip: I’m a parade!

^ This kid, in a nutshell.

When I say “solid mix,” she’s mostly Quinn and as such promises to be a wild card as she ages up.

Quinn: WHOA whose kid is this?

Almost definitely the first time he’s held her.

Another side effect of Ghost Crisis 2.0 is that Rhapsody, Calamity, and Frieda get to graduate en masse from high school at ages 34, 51, and 114 respectively.

*Most Likely to Have Been Mediocre, and I’m sure she appreciates the salt in her wounds.

Fiasco is there too, visibly sweating from the effort of pulling off that sideways baseball cap. (What were you thinking, game?)

Quinn: Are you ready for a bedtime story, Kip?

Kip: This isn’t my bed…

Fiasco: Is this man trying to hurt you, sweetie?

Quinn: Wait. You’re my wife’s brother, aren’t you?

Fiasco: Wife? I wasn’t invited to a weddi—

Quinn: Congratulations, you’re the new babysitter.

Fiasco: Hey little nugget, wanna see some magic tricks?

Kip: Yes please!

So Uncle Fifi keeps her entertained while the rest of the family tends to very important business.

Fiasco: Behold! In the blink of an eye, I will conjure a snowball!

Fiasco: Uhhh whoops, I forgot I’m an incompetent turd.

Yeah, so SP has started cycling Fiasco through all three Showtime careers, which in my game is a sign that it gave up trying to find him a place in real society. Other symptoms: no marriage, children, or skill advancements. Precedent: Florin.

Fiasco: Tada! There it is!

Too late man, her respect for you is gone.

For Calamity, “very important business” entails chatting with the ghost Blubsy accidentally summoned the other night. Note that she opts for THIS monstrosity over a cap and gown. Note also that a visibly pregnant sim graduating high school should probably ring alarm bells in my head, but it doesn’t.

For Crash, important business is being picturesque AF while searching the heavens in shitty visibility.

Crash: *nod nod*

And disrupting the laws of astronomy just to mess with people.

(Only $40 for discovering Earth? What a sham!)

However, with Kip out of the burrito phase, Calamity is ready to step in and take credit for the important stuff. Like telling the kid her origin story (in great detail).

Cal: And so you see, there’s a good chance that your father is actually a bottom-dwelling sludge serpent.

Just look at her squishy little face trying to digest all of that.

I know every cute kid looks like Boo from Monsters Inc., but does she not look a little bit like Boo from Monsters Inc.?

Based on her first official words, she may have fallen a long way from the Langurd tree.

Kip: Let’s be together FOREVER!

Cal: Omg stop, you’re too fucking adorable.

Cal: Keep this up and you’ll inherit the family fortune in no time.

Kip: *not even a little bit interested*

Hoping the next one has more of a head for business.

Heeding Rhapsody’s advice, Frieda keeps rolling painting-related wishes once the portraits are done. A few tiny canvases later, she’s maxed her first-ever skill.

Frieda: I haven’t eaten in days. I FEEL SO ALIVE.

My final decree is that she can stick around until the new baby is born.

After the first one vaguely reminds me of Omen, I commission her to do an abstract painting for each of her five children. It’s eerie how suited they actually are to the kids’ colour schemes and personalities—then again, they’re abstract so I could say that no matter what they looked like.

Of course, Frieda finishes that project in half a day and goes right back to puttering around.

Frieda: I’ve always wanted to be writer. Think I could master that in 36 hours?

Quinn: Sure, can’t imagine why some of us would dedicate our entire lives to the craft.

Cal: Lol Mom, I just realized my body gets to decide when you die.

Figures Quinn would be bitter when he’s such a dud journalist. Honestly, this career is too much for a guy with two weeks to live. He should be out seizing the day, not writing a biography of Old Man Jenkins and his prized teaspoon collection.

Quinn: But it’s my dream!

Yeah, well, consider it shattered.

Also looking increasingly unlikely: Rhapsody ever maxing four whole instruments. Who thought that was a good idea? Why am I suddenly mad at every LTW? I dunno, maybe I’m a little jaded from recent events.

Sean: I like your music, but you’re also a ghost.

Rhapsody: What a dilemma, I feel so bad for you.

Her jam sessions tend to be pretty dead for this reason alone.

…Dead, get it?

But all that changes when the Fire Nation attacks the King-Langurd clan shows up. Livy, Dominique, Tam, and Unborn Sibling of Tam (surprise?!) are always ready to party.

Livy: Birthday Bash 2k15 never forget

Within minutes they’ve created a rave behind the piano. Truly magical.

Livy: Where’s the kid?

Dom: Who cares? This is my jam! Here, lady, go buy yourself a taco.

Little Kip’s got a big task ahead of her, breaking in this gargantuan nursery. Sitting awkwardly in the corner is a good start.

Kip: A ghost keeps knocking over my ducky.

And by that she means…

Calamity: Justice is served.

Remember when I told Calamity “I wouldn’t put it past you to sleep through labour”?

Folks, you are currently looking at Calamity in labour.

Still looking at it.

Yep, even now.

I’m just sitting here laughing like a fool until I realize that she’s been in the hospital for 10 hours and huh, that’s strange, why haven’t we gotten a baby pop-up yet?

*ominous thunder clap*

I’LL TELL YOU WHY.

Meet Ghost Crisis #3, because bad things come in fucking tidal waves. Apparently, tweaking occult aging settings while an occult is pregnant is a big no-no. At least, that’s what I’ve inferred from the fact that CAL AND QUINN’S CHILD IS LITERALLY INCAPABLE OF BEING BORN.

Calamity: Um, how do I get this thing out of me then?

*throws legacy out the window*

*sets desk on fire*

*cancels self*

I’m sorry, Cal. I really didn’t want to do this, but…

Calamity: Wh… where did my baby go?

Quinn: You heartless wench.

I HAD NO CHOICE, OKAY? D’: I’ll get you a new one. Everything is going to be fine.

*happy music fades into the distance*

…

Fuck this shit. This is the Sims. I’m not here to feel feelings.

It’s not that big a deal, I guess. All we have to do is go to the hospital, engineer a replacement baby, and not get stuck this time. But there’s something tragic about the fact that the one Cal was pregnant with for this whole chapter will technically never exist. It could have been the Chosen Langurd, full of recessive genes and fun traits!

It could also have been a faceclone. For the sake of all our sanity, let’s assume it was a faceclone.

Cal: Come on Quinn, let’s go buy a baby.

😥

Jeff: Have no fear, Doctor Jeff is here!

He WOULD be the doctor on call in these trying times.

While that’s all going down, Rhapsody stumbles on another definition of “trying times.”

Fiasco: I’m a mime now, I guess.

Rhapsody: You go, Fifi! Follow your dreams!

Rhapsody: But first, go get yourself a taco. #payingitforward

Fiasco: Oh, you don’t have to tip me. I’m just collecting rainwater to drink later.

Lev: You know this town has outlawed homelessness, right?

Shut up Lev, you’re not the mayor yet!

Her husband is basically a local hero, though.

Quinn: Thanks, Doctor Jeff! You’re the best!

Cal: *dead inside*

Gumby will be so pleased! I think there’s a dead babies joke somewhere in here, but “too soon” doesn’t begin to cover it.

Here he is in the flesh: Trance Langurd, whose arrival cost us 24 hours and $5,000, is an Absent-Minded Light Sleeper who enjoys veggi rolls, island life music, and the colour green. Ironically, he’s also the first kid since Skydancer not to be born green. He has his father’s perpetual sunburn, which is actually on the pale end of the purple spectrum.

Trance: *giggles at nothing*

I guess you could call this a happy ending…

…if it weren’t for the elephant in the room.

Frieda: Who are you calling an elephant?

Come on, you know what we promised.

Frieda: Just a minute, Kip’s being cute again.

Don’t do this to me, woman!

Frieda: Pssst, you’d better grow up with Grandma’s hair, you hear?

Put the baby down, Frieda.

FRIEDA I SWEAR TO GOD.

Frieda: Okay okay, I’m going.

Just like that, Frieda sails back to the Netherworld and makes good on her promise to Gumby.

Frieda: Hey clayboy, eternity’s looking mighty fine from over here.

Gumby: Aww dangit.

❤

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

What a great chapter to kick off the party! Wow, I am so jazzed and ready to go!

(Excuse me while I sleep the hurt away and try to rally for the next one.)

Happy Simming!

-Sam

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