Here we are at last! The final chapter of—
Nah, I can’t. That’s too cruel a joke.
You see, the previous longest Langurd generation finished at eighteen chapters. That was Gen. 4, when I sent the dweebs to university and did the dual heirship thing. The others have ranged from ten to sixteen, but it’s always an even number for some reason.
Today, we hit eighteen chapters on Gen. 7, and the amount of stuff that has yet to happen is ABSURD. I haven’t blocked anything out beyond 20, but my current guess is… 28? 30? And that’s just until I can post an heir poll.
The biggest worry is that this is the ONE generation where I can actually run out of chapter titles, because there is a finite number of the thing I’m basing them on. At the very least, they’re going to start sounding really dumb. I did NOT think this through, guys!
Shall we begin?
After witnessing Dusty’s tryst with his boss from across the street, Siesta stumbles out into the front yard with hot tub brain. Her gallivanting children are all trickling in just before curfew, so it’s bonding time.
Siesta: So that weather. It sure is weathery, huh?
Kiko: Mom, let’s be straight. Do you remember my name?Read the rest of this entry
Guess who’s back, bitches!
(Using that phrase purely for power-drama. I think very highly of you all.)
To start with, thank you for your moral support/commiseration/technical advice on that very articulate Error 12 post. I’m happy to announce that WE ARE IN THE CLEAR! And in fact, I’ve nearly finished playing Gumby’s generation, so now comes a crapload of writing. Enjoy!
The fate of the family is now rests on… a guy who still creeps around like a grounded teenager.
Gumby: I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Polly.
Polly: Don’t tell me what to do! Go to your room!
Hello again! Can I just say how glad I am that people are still reading thing? Otherwise, I’d have no one to address these introductions to, and I’d have to be all impersonal and start every chapter with “Dear Diary, here is what I accomplished today while I sat on my butt.” And no one would be there to judge my failures, so I would have absolutely no standards… Oh, right.
Last time, Katana completed her LTW, Drachma became a cat lady, Florin showed up like twice, and everyone was really sad about Dax for some reason. I don’t expect we’ll be nearly so productive today, but here goes anyhow!
Aww look, it’s family meal time! Appropriately, Florin the half-sibling is only half in the shot.
Weston: Well, girls, I daresay I’ve got the hang of this Langurd Life.
Drachma: Not until you’ve mastered Lev’s technique.
Lev: The trick is not to differentiate between the openings on your face.
Great news! Finals are over and I’m pretty sure I didn’t fail them. In fact, I may have even maintained my straight-A reputation, but that remains to be seen and I don’t want to jinx anything so I’m going to stop talking about grades now and transfer my enthusiasm to whatever the fuck is happening in the screenshot below… a.k.a. motherly affection from Arabella??? Jesus, this is Tewl’s monogamous streak all over again.
Katana: Um, why are you touching me?
Arabella: I heard you were upset about being grounded. So, pip pip cheerio and all that.
Katana: I don’t think that means what you think it does.
This is it! The generation that would not end is finally coming to a semi-close. I just want to thank everybody who’s been reading thus far for sticking with me. I know some of these chapters have been a trek due to my ridiculous verbosity, but I promise it will only get more enjoyable from here on out. And now I’ll stop acting like we’ve finished the goddamn legacy and remind myself that this is only 10% complete, and we’ve still got eight more generations of Langurds to birth and thousands of pictures to caption and ahhh, what have I gotten myself into??
Let’s pick up where we left off, shall we? With all the kids sprouted into gangly hormonal teenagery things, the second gen Langurds were gearing up for the biggest night of their lives. PROM, bitches! Now let’s make a huge deal out of it even though it will only end in deflation, rejection, and disillusionment.
As the sun crested over the hills of Sunset Valley and evening began to approach, even the family gnome was getting into the spirit. Yeah, I still don’t know his name because my game hates me right now. For now I’m calling him George after George R. R. Martin because let’s be honest, there’s a pretty solid resemblance there.
George: I WILL KILL EVERYTHING YOU LOVE… AND DANCE ON ITS GRAVE
I hope he will have many gnome descendants.