6.14 Enter Sandman

We did it! We’re here! We can finally put Gen. 6 to sleep! Strangely, after all that talk about being burnt out, I woke up after 4.5 hours all fired up to write the next one. My PC has this weird habit of randomly booting on its own, usually in the middle of the night; at 5:30am I convinced myself that I did it with my mind, took it as a sign, and now here we are.

This one’s a short one and all about the kids, so pack your lunchboxes and brush up on the lingo, fam. It’s lit.

Rhapsody: Fine, bye.

I don’t think Siesta has slept once since becoming a teenager. When her energy turns red, she hits the coffee and just keeps a-rolling until she’s dying again 30 minutes later. This is exactly what Frieda was doing in her final days; needless to say, I’m a little concerned.

Siesta: I’m fiiiiiiiiine.

6.12 Beds Are Burning

Well, here we are at last on July 12th! Happy Birthday Langurds and R.I.P. Sam’s sanity!

I can smell the light at the end of the tunnel (not a typo; caffeine does strange things to your senses) so I’m going to give it my all for these last 13.5 hours. Hopefully without having to cut things in half and without wasting the potential of these screenshots. You are all lovely and supportive and I’m sure it’s only me cracking the whip at this point, but there is no whip more terrifying than the one in my own hands. (Cripes, a few cups of coffee and I’ve turned into Omen?)

Things have been moving pretty fast. Our eldest heir candidate is a teen, our youngest a child, our heiress a middle-aged underachiever, and her ex-husband a corpse.

Only Rhapsody has yet to get a kick in the pants from Father Time. Of course she’s busking in the park when it hits.

Rhapsody: Thanks for coming to celebrate my birthday with me!

Corren: I didn’t. Where’d your guitar go?

6.11 Don’t Blame It on the Moonlight

In my haze of exhaustion last night, I completely failed to acknowledge a feat I have not accomplished since Chapter 1.3: two legit updates in one day! Universally recognized as the first sign of the apocalypse, so start hoarding those cans. Given that in Tewl’s day my average post length was a weak 40-45 screenshots, I think I get to claim victory over myself here.

To celebrate that victory, and because everyone begs for this shit on Leisure Day, the Langurds are opening up their glorious yard for entertaining!

Like any good party, this one begins with a fumbled pizza delivery.

Pizza Girl: Tada! Did some ants order a pizza?