Upload
professorbutters
View
244
Download
5
Tags:
Embed Size (px)
DESCRIPTION
And STILL no girls. Drastic measures must be taken.
Citation preview
The Squeaky Clean Legacy By Professor Butters
Chapter 4.2: Death in Pink
Hey there! I'm Hopeful Young, formerly Goodytwoshoes. I used to live in the Squeaky Clean Legacy House. Don't I look sorry to have leD?
And this is my husband, Count Jihoon. He used to be a vampire, but he wasn't very good at not burning to death in the sunlight, so he quit. He likes grilled cheese.
And here's our daughter, Countess Elizabeth. Jihoon says she's named aDer Countess Elizabeth Bathory, who used to bathe (so they said) in the blood of young virgins. He's so senNmental about his family.
We're the average ex-‐vampire Pleasure Sims: both Professional Party Guests, funloving, short aTenNon spans. So we're hosNng this chapter of the Squeaky Clean Legacy. Don't expect me to narrate like my brother MorNmer, though. Hey-‐-‐is Hell's Kitchen on tonight?
When we last leD the Squeaky Clean Legacy, Daisie Mae, the second-‐generaNon heiress, had just had a cute liTle-‐-‐BOY-‐-‐named Earthquake. Why's that bad? Well, in the Squeaky Clean Legacy, only girls inherit, and they have to behave themselves-‐-‐absolutely no WooHoo outside of marriage and strictly Try For Baby. We're all about high ethical standards here. Well, that, and pink.
This brought the house populaNon up to eight; Daisie Mae; her husband, the former Remington Harris (husbands change their name to Goodytwoshoes here); Rosie, the founder; her husband Shane; and the twins, Joe and Tiny.
So Hopeful, who was going for fiDy first dates and a nice liTle plaNnum grave on the lot, moved out. Once she was out, she could do anything she wanted, which seems to have been to resurrect Count Jihoon (thus ge^ng rid of a perfectly good sunlight ghost.) She also had most of the friends in the house and a good income as a Professional Party Guest, so she was a loss in more ways than one.
Daisie Mae and Remington lost a liTle sleep that evening. Trust me, Remington is always happy to Try For Baby. He doesn't get to that oDen.
And a few days later, they were the parents of yet another adorable liTle BOY. Named Ralph. Because we're running out of boy's names. Rosie here is thrilled to be a grandma again. Me? Not so much.
Let's review the kids again, shall we? That would be Tiny-‐-‐in the foreground-‐-‐and Joe, the blond in the back, both students in private school which we killed ourselves ge^ng them into.
And Earthquake.
Remington always teaches the kids the same first word. Maybe it's "Daddy," but I've always suspected it's "Remington." If they can get their mouths around that, "teddy," "boTle," and "high chair" are a piece of cake.
Here's Shane teaching Darling, the second generaNon cat, to play dead. We're trying to run a toy business on the lot and keep the pet generaNons going too. The pet heir has to reach the top of a career and max all the pet skills and produce kiTens, and then they can reNre, usually to a spare's house, where they can live on Lobster Thermidor. Darling and her mate Thay haven't had any kiTens yet. Why? Because there is no room.
Here's Remington off to a semi-‐successful day at work, trying to get to be Captain Hero before he is too old. The problem isn't skills, exactly, although Remington skills slowly-‐-‐it's friends. Luckily the house is packed with pink and white snapdragons, giving it that Barbie look and keeping need bars up.
And right on cue. . .
Daisie Mae: Welcome to the neighborhood-‐-‐Renee, was it?
Enter Renee, aka cowforbrains, one of the most famous-‐-‐and most ruthless-‐-‐of Legacy writers.
Daisie Mae: So, Renee, as a Knowledge Sim working on my second LTW, I'm dying to know about everything. I hear you're one of the most famous Legacy authors-‐-‐what do you think the future holds?
Renee: You want to know what the future holds?
Renee: DEATH. That, my friend, is what the future holds.
Daisie Mae: Death. No kidding? Mom and Dad are going to die someday, I guess-‐-‐they're ge^ng up there. Renee: I didn't mean them. Daisie Mae: Gulp. Me?? Renee: Come on. You're the heiress and the only Knowledge Sim. You're good for ages. Daisie: Remington? Renee: You need him to breed from. Daisie Mae: Not very tacbul. Renee: Look, I'm just saying. You have to have a girl. That's the rules. And ideally two girls. You have both your parents, your husband and four boys. Just sayin', is all. I'm here for you if you need me.
Daisie Mae: Golly, Renee, I feel like you've opened up a whole new perspecNve on things. I'm so lucky to have a friend like you.
Renee: Don't menNon it.
Darling, the daughter of first generaNon cats Dreamboat and Max, hits the top of the showbiz career. A few more commands, some kiTens, and you're good to go!
Darling: Meow?
Someone comes home with the boys on the first day of school. Why, it's BuTers Stotch! In fact, it's always BuTers, maybe because he's stuck in that nightmare of a house with his parents and no friends.
He arrives in the middle of the Goodytwoshoes golden anniversary party, with Hawkins, MorNmer, Hopeful, Sam, Sam's wife Julie, and Remington-‐-‐here hidden by annoying "friend from work"-‐-‐all ge^n' down.
And BuTers promptly joins the Smustle-‐-‐-‐
While Rosie and Shane go for something a bit more sedate-‐-‐
And Sam plays the piano, with wife Julie worrying in the background. I don't know why, unless it's because she's a Family Sim and I haven't goTen around to playing them much. So she has no children yet.
Earthquake hugs Thay. Aww. Tell me that's not cute. I mean the cat.
Linda Stotch comes over and chats with Remington.
Linda: Oh, my gosh, Remington. You have no idea how sweet you have it! I'm a Family Sim and I'm married to a Romance Sim, Stephen, who has a thing for facial hair, and you know what that means. And we just have the one kid, BuTers. Well, and the unsuccessful first generaNon male cat you guys had, Bonkers, who makes so much money that none of us have to work. I am soooo unhappy. I wish I could start over, maybe with someone exactly like you.
Remington: Well, Linda, I guess it depends on what you think of as sweet. There are certain restricNons to the Squeaky Clean household which can make it kind of, um, difficult. However, I am going to abide by the rules and even though I have more bolts with you than I do with my wife, I am going to pretend this conversaNon never ever happened.
We can be pals. In fact, I need pals. For my job.
And so Remington waves Linda a platonic bye-‐bye, goes to the living room to skill some more, and thinks affecNonately of his wife. He truly is Squeaky Clean.
Joe: Daddy, can we get a puppy?
Remington: No, Joe, we cannot get a puppy or a kiTy or a parrot or even a Womrat, because there is no room in this place.
Birthday Nme, boys!
Make a wish! And remember, cuteness counts!
Twins: We'll do our best.
It's a draw. Joe grows up into hideous clothes and he's no Brad PiT.
However, Tiny . . .
He's got his father's nose and his grandfather's hideous Maxis Lips and Cheeks. Of course, we are all about character here and not beauty, but beauty never hurts. But he is maxed Playful and Grouchy, like his uncles Abijah and Abner and Hawkins.And he came out Pleasure.
Tiny makes two successful batches of medicine in a row-‐-‐
While twin brother Joe gets fat on birthday cake. He's sweet and sloppy, much like his father Remington (whom he greatly resembles), a Pleasure Sim with a lot of musical talent, and he is headed for college. Fast.
Daisie Mae: Hmm. I remember back when I was ge^ng started as a scienNst and lost two Logic points to a bad chance card, I asked my brother MorNmer to tutor me at the Simsanto staNon. Got mysterious diseases twice in a row, had to quit my job, put me back forever-‐-‐oh, my, Tiny, that's a terrible sounding cough.
Tiny: You want me to go into AunNe Hopeful's old combo crypt and beauty parlor? But it's spooky in there!
Thank you, dear.
Tiny: Hey! Where did the door go?
Don't worry, Tiny. You have everything here-‐-‐a TV and food and a toilet and a shower and a phone-‐-‐just no bed. Or chairs.
Life goes on at the big house, as Rosie and Shane have a pillow fight-‐-‐
And Ralph grows up-‐-‐-‐
And Tiny fixes himself pork chops. Pork chops, the Squeaky Clean signature food, because in the old comic strip Lil Abner, aDer which nearly everybody is named, the hero is crazy about pork chops. And everybody here seems to be, too, including the headmaster.
You can actually get a surprising amount of sleep standing up.
Rosie has a very happy final weekend, with a golden anniversary party and new grandchildren. The very last thing she does is teach her youngest grandson, Ralph, how to walk.
And then she wanders out to the toy shop and dies so quietly and quickly that the hula dancers are nearly gone by the Nme anyone can get there, including me.
Tiny: Waaaaah! Grandma's gone!
Don't worry, Tiny. You won't miss her for long.
Tiny: That doesn't make me feel beTer!
My simself strolls by the lot. Not visiNng, not buying toys, just passing through-‐-‐and, you know-‐-‐checking.
Remington, who knows what the future holds? And more to the point, do you truly want to know?
The toy business is ge^ng crowded, and oddest of all, the customers can't be checked out. At all. Shane decides to move the business over to Inner Child Toys and GiDs, where he can craD more toys and stock the place properly.
In the process, the staff is lost, including MorNmer's wife Edith, the blond in the tube top. She can be touchy and already quit once, and then came strolling back as though she weren't mooching for a job. Her gold sales badge is a mixed blessing-‐-‐she either nails the sale or loses it enNrely.
Finally, aDer two days locked in AunNe Hopeful's old crypt, Tiny dies.
Remington is the only one to run out there.
Well, him and the cats.
Remington: Oh, Tiny! Tiny! Why???
Sorry about that, Remington. I knew you'd take it hard.
Daisie Mae: Oh, I feel so terrible about Tiny! Poor poor Tiny!
Earthquake: Is Tiny coming back as a ghost?
Remington: Of course not, silly, there's no such thing as ghosts. Let's play red hands.
Daisie Mae: Renee? Hi, it's Daisie Mae. Hope you don't mind my calling like this. Tiny just died of a mysterious illness, Remington's playing with the kids, and I feel sort of, well, responsible.
Renee: Don't be so hard on yourself, Daisie Mae. Accidents happen.
Daisie Mae: Thanks, Renee! I feel a lot beTer now! You're a pal!
Oh, boy, here we go again. Let's hope it's a girl. Daisie Mae never rolls the want to have a baby, and who can blame her? SomeNmes she wants to teach the kids things or get them into private school, but for a Knowledge Sim, this is not a lot of fun.
Daisie Mae: Poor poor Tiny. Time to make more snapdragons. Just in case.
Guess who comes home with Earthquake his first day of school? Everyone knows it's BuTers. He's a sucker for company-‐-‐and cats.
He's also probably a liTle lonely because when Tiny was low on social, he had to call somebody-‐-‐and that somebody was BuTers. So BuTers spent the weekend talking to a Sim dying a long slow death by disease-‐-‐yet another life-‐scarring experience for the poor liTle guy, but who's counNng?
Remington needs more friends if he's going to climb that ladder at work, and just talking to Linda on the phone won't do it. He keeps it strictly on the up-‐and-‐up, truly-‐-‐not a single autonomous "checks Sim out" or anything-‐-‐but guess who chooses that moment for her first haunNng?
Ghost of Rosie: This is just a warning, Remington!
Linda: What's the maTer, Remington? You look like you've seen a ghost!
Remington: I thou-‐-‐-‐. . .My mother in. . .oh, well, you wouldn't understand. It's ge^ng kind of late, Linda, isn't it? Time for you to go home, maybe?
Rosie disappeared right aDer that and has been nice and quiet ever since. Hmmm.
Good work, Darling! You learned to sit up! Now all you have to do is learn one more command. . .
. . . have some kiTens, and you are ouTa here.
Darling: Good.
Remington comes back from work dog-‐Nred, but I make him help Ralph with his birthday anyway. As the only non-‐permaplat adult Sim, it's oDen dangerous for him to use the energizer, and the race is on to see if he can make his LTW before he gets too old. Especially with all those kids he keeps having.
Ralph grows up. He looks a lot like Earthquake, and Tiny, and in fact most of the male Goodytwoshoes except for Joe. But he has his Mommy and Grandmommy's huge blue eyes, which helps a bit.
Ahah. Finally, Ben, the author of my favorite Legacy, the Ten Caesars, shows up at the toy shop. He contemplates buying the evil kite, but he's too smart for that.
Shane: No evil kites today, sir? Ben: Nope. Shane: How about marrying a Squeaky Clean heiress? Ben: Umm-‐-‐not a lot of fun. And you have no heiress yet. Shane: Could I interest you in a spare? Ben: All your spares are boys, aren't they? And my turn-‐off is facial hair. No.
But he did eventually buy something, at least.
Count Jihoon is a BIG fan of the toy shop-‐-‐patronized the old place and now comes and buys stuff. So does Hopeful, who was not smart enough to avoid buying the evil kite.
He also showed up to threaten Stephen Tinker.
"You think you can take money away from my father-‐in-‐law's business, Mister, blah, you beTer think again before you make a Grand Vampire very annoyed blah!"
The workout gear makes the threat a liTle less convincing. I'm afraid that marriage and grilled cheese is having its effect on the Count's waistline.
Shane: So you see, Remington, one of the liTle-‐known rules of the Squeaky Clean Legacy is that the married-‐in husband has to run the family toy business, in addiNon to working a regular job, siring way too many kids, helping them all with their homework, training the cats, and cleaning out liTerboxes. I figure I have about four or five days leD, so I'll try to teach you everything I know before I pass on to the Great Luau. Remington: What if I know nothing about making toys? Shane: Oh, you'll learn. Any quesNons? Comments? Remington: The lack of pink here is kind of resbul.
However, there was a snag. Remington and Shane used to be very close back before Daisie Mae was even born. Shane was actually the one who got to be pals with him, though I'm afraid Rosie exploited Remington's painfully obvious weakness for blondes. But with all those diapers, they haven't talked much and Remington isn't Shane's friend anymore, though he is sNll a "best friend."
There were a lot of jokes and pillow fights before Shane could call Remington and expect to have him come down to the toy store. Remington was patheNcally happy to have his old friend back and really really wants to earn his silver toymaking badge, if he can just somehow get enough sleep.
Shane: CongratulaNons, sonny-‐-‐someday all this will be yours.
Remington: Thanks, I think.
And my simself shows up at the toy store again, checking out the new place.
Me: Hmmm-‐-‐but what would I do with a Wet N' Wild Water Wiggler?
Nevertheless, I'm preTy sure I bought one. The business is seriously in the red, but only because they installed all kinds of comfort items, like a mini-‐fridge and even a hot tub. Keeps the employees happy and with a Ncket machine, even if Dina Caliente does want to loaf around in the hot tub, she's goTa pay for it.
Daisie Mae, you're about to pop! Are you sure you want to do this?
Daisie Mae: Believe me, I'm fully aware of the risks. But I've done the math. If I have twins now, Darling will have only one kiTen, and one is all we need. One girl, and at least I've produced the heiress. Two girls, and I'm done forever with babies.
How do you think Remington will feel about that? Remember, you can only Try For Baby. He's floaNng high and dry for the Sim equivalent of five or six years, at least.
Daisie Mae: Meh, we can make out, hold hands, whatever. I'm sure he won't mind.
Daisie Mae: Here, Dad. You're the Family Sim, you just got 8,000 aspiraNon points, you take the first baby while I finish up.
JACKPOT!!! Twin girls, Delighbul and Moonbeam. They'll hit teenhood at the same Nme and they'll roll for aspiraNons together-‐-‐we can pick which one is least likely to go sNr crazy, have a poll, whatever we want!
Remington: Oh, boy, another baby-‐-‐beTer juice myself up for a lot of late nights.
Remington: Tell me the truth. I'm expendable now. You can make me have an accident with a brand-‐new pool, have me fix the dishwasher-‐-‐I'm toast.
Me: Oh, no. We're developing a "we don't off husbands" policy-‐-‐at least not husbands like you. Sure, we could use a nice electrocuNon ghost more than we could another Family Sim plaNnum grave, but somebody's goTa change the diapers, help with homework, clean the catboxes, mind the store . . .
Remington: There's no more Try For Baby, though, is there?
Remington: Oh, HI, uh, Linda! No, no, just saying hi and trying to get you to be my friend for job points. What? No, nothing's wrong, why do you ask?
Remington: Jeez. Eighty trillion years later and I'm sNll the maid, only I don't get paid for it. I don't know if it's all been worth it.
Hmm. Looks like Daisie Mae has decided you deserve some kind of a reward.
And don't despair yet, Remington. You've had, let's see-‐-‐six kids now?
Remington: Don't remind me about Tiny.
Oh, oops, yeah. But you only need four more to hit an Impossible Want. And as much as toddler screaming drives me nuts-‐-‐
Yes, Remington, there might be more Try For Baby. We'll see. Meanwhile, we have to get the store up and running, get you educated on toy making, try to get you promoted if we possibly can-‐-‐and that's the stuff of a whole new chapter. UnNl then, happy Simming!
Cover picture by DianaSprinkle on Threadless.