Another chapter so soon?! (You ask in distress.) I’m sorry. I should probably leave a courtesy buffer or something but sometimes the words just keep flowing, y’know?
Last time, Gumby fell in love with Frieda Salas, an evil ghost who wants to kill him and steal his money. Lira had tea with her SimBots and lamented the curse of aging. Mandrake broke my game, and Boa tried in vain to die by jelly bean. I know now that that can’t happen, but for the sake of continuity and my pride I’m going to pretend I am none the wiser.
(Pretend not to be wise? How ever shall I do that?)
Gumby’s second date with Frieda was a raging and unreasonable success. I know the shot I gave you last chapter was a little stingy, so here’s a better look at her face.
Frieda: So hypothetically, what colour would you want your ghost to be?
Gumby: I don’t know. Why?
Frieda: Oh, no reason.
For anyone wondering, this is her real, EA-given colouring. All of the Midnight Hollow ghosts seem to look like this underneath, i.e. so white they must have been genetically engineered by Hitler himself.
Hello again! Seems like all I do these days is blog. Just as it should be, since I checked the archives and apparently this generation alone has taken me over a year to write. How? HOW? That’s 1/3 of the time this blog has been alive. What is it about Katana’s children that have made things so difficult?
Don’t answer that.
Thanks again to everyone who read the birthday posts. I know it was a lot to get through, but the party isn’t over! Oh no, keep your dancing feet warm because it’s Christmas in July! This post would have made sense if I’d stuck to the schedule dammit
Teqeq: Do you like what I’ve done with my hair? I hear chicks dig the flow.
And since Snowflake Day is a time for family, we invited all the relatives we could think of. Birth certificates/paternity tests required at the door.
Twist it! Pull it! Flick it!
But hey, now that I’ve ruined that for you, let me… ruin lots of other things as well. Welcome back to the Langurds!
Lira: I am Mrs. Nesbitt!
We already did that.
Lira: But the readers liked it!
That doesn’t mean we get to repeat stuff.
Lira: Uh, yeah. It’s called a SEQUEL.
Okay, fine. Presenting: “Lira Drinks Tea 2: This Time with Wings.”
You know how when people live together, their cycles sync up? Apparently, I’ve been “living” with the Langurds for too long, because I’m experiencing a severe case of simulative synchrony. (Why yes, I coined that term myself just now.)
Just like Boa, Lira, and the rest, your Director of Shenanigans is now officially a Gryffindor graduate! Discovery: the door clusterfuck is a myth. In fact, the whole process was highly streamlined and efficient and the worst nightmare of a socially awkward person. Why am I telling you guys this? I’m pretty sure 80% of my readership is older and more life-experienced than I am. Which is an interesting story, but seeing as I haven’t finished this one…
Long ago some words were said:
“I’ll finish a legacy ‘fore I’m dead!”
And this one here was going well
Until it all just went to hell
Because you see I’m really lazy
And I can’t think of a rhyme for that so the poem is over now.
* * *
So yeah… remember that thing about getting to Generation Six before the end of the year?
Happy 2015! This gal is nowhere near her winter years.
Lira: What are you talking about? Now that I’m in charge, all the years are winter!
Ah, college life. You know that end-of-the-semester feeling when nothing matters and you decide to stick it out and live through the mess, and you think “Next year, NEXT YEAR I’m turning over a new leaf goddammit”?
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.