Galacticon Farquest
Ok, we're going back to check on our PMSing boy, Galacticon.
Background: Galacticon has been returned to his love shack after spending a night with his wife. He's still lingering under the assumption that he beat his wife at her own game. . .
Galacticon realizes his steady diet of pastries, cookies, and other high fructose corn syrup laden products has turned him into a porker. He's been reduced to running around in sweat pants. It's time to take some action.
*damn, they said these diet shakes have a rich creamy taste. my ass. but I have to get back into my black outfit. I'll never get laid again in an outfit like this. But what's up with this sudden hair growth? Good thing I had the love map tattooed to my head.*
His new diet seems to be taking its toll. Only allowed one solid meal a day and he ends up face first in it.
(waking up) *oh man, I can't believe I fell asleep in a lean cuisine meal. maybe I need more iron?*
But that's not the least of his problems. He's passing out all over the place. And his house is falling apart around him.
*man, the insomnia is just too much. ok, so I'm fat and hairy and unattractive. but now I can't even SLEEP. It's just not fair, not fair at all.*
Eventually, Galacticon gets past his denial.
He realizes his calculations were off. *damn it. damn HER. she got me right at the last possible moment. well, at least this means I'm not fat. good. now I can have some real food, that diet shit tastes like the box it comes in.*
Galacticon's phone rings off the hook. He turns down date after date. He can't let anyone see him. Not like this.
*I can't wait for this to be over*
*oh, ugh, this is worse than when I had to use the bakery bathroom. just hurry the hell up and come out alreadeeeeeeeee. . .*
*ooh, that's it? thank the creatrix. . .oh, ugh, what?*
*oh shit. no, ugh, oh, no fucking way*
*damn her. damn her! what the hell am I going to do now?*
Galacticon tries to figure out his new role as a father.
But he's painfully ill equipped. With no baby beds, the children are forced to sleep on the floor. While he tries to feed one, the other shrieks from the sisel carpeting.
*please. stop. crying. I'm busy washing your stinky ass brother.*
With no changing table he's forced to listen to one scream while he hoses the other off in the kitchen sink.
And with both of them trying to sleep on the floor, he doesn't dare turn on his beloved radio. When one wakes, he screams, waking his brother.
Finally, they're both asleep. Galacticon tries to prepare a meal for himself.
"GODDAMNIT!" *oh, damn, now they're going to wake up and start crying and all I want is some stupid fucking macaroni and cheese*
*please. don't. wake. up.*
WWWWAAAAAAAAAAA
*oh, fuck me*
*great. they won't shut up and now all I have to eat is this burned mess. and look at the floor*
Galacticon hardly notices as someone enters the love shack.
"So this is how you take care of our sons?"
*shit, shit, shit, shit*
Galacticon can't even argue. He's proven himself incapable of single fatherhood, especially to twins.
His wife wastes no time erecting beds for her twin sons. Galacticon doesn't even argue as his bedroom is filled with kindercrap.
*I can't believe she brought a television. and she's cleaning, too. hey, this isn't so bad after all*
Once the house is tended to and the babies fast asleep, Galacticon finally confronts her.
"I realize we've never even met. I'm Shanghai. Shanghai Journey."
"So, how'd you find me?"
"Well, it was sort of a coincidence. I looked for you for a while, but couldn't find you. Then, I picked up a transmission of a strange televison program. It was some show about romance. . ."
"Oh, damn, you saw that? Don't believe what you see. That was edited all to hell."
"They made me look like a fat queen. I should have sued them. So, if it wasn't for that, I might have gotten away?"
"I think so."
"Damn, who would have thought reality t.v. would be my downfall, huh?"
"So, what's good to eat on this planet?"
They sit down to a non-burned dinner of mac and cheese.
"Ok, so you found me. But you didn't have to pollinate me, you know."
"Yes, I did."
"I doubt that. Oh, what, you didn't have enough kids with your seven to ten other husbands?"
"I don't see what all these sims find so magical about you. You're crass and . . ."
". . .well that didn't stop you from knocking me up with TWINS. Was THAT really necessary?"
*laughing* "No. But I just couldn't resist."
"I'm glad you find this so amusing."
"You won't believe me, but it was necessary."
"Yeah, you're right, I don't believe you. I bet you have two dozen squalling brats with your other husbands."
"I don't have any other husbands."
"What? But.. ."
"Nope, you're the only one. My parents spent all their money buying husbands for my sisters."
"So, I'm. . ."
"Yup, you're it. So, you're not very good with babies, huh?"
"Not so much. It's not really my bag."
"But you're so good with your son, Romeo?"
"You saw that?"
"Yeah, I read your thoughts while I was pollinating you. It was quite a show."
*laughing* "Yeah, I bet."
Galacticon is confused by this sudden turn of events. He wants to hate his wife, but just doesn't. And it is nice to have help. Two babies is a lot of work.
And now that he has more time, he even starts to enjoy them, just a little.
*that's right. handsome just like your old man.*
"So, Galacticon, what should we name them?"
"Well, I kind of already did. I call them Pillage and Plunder."
"Oh. Those are. . .interesting names."
It's only been a few days, but what a few days they have been. Galacticon is now a father to twin boys and, it would seem, a husband. But Galacticon is most curious as to what his wife looks like. He knows since they never had a proper ceremony he's not supposed to see her. But, then again, this isn't the home planet.
*wow. she's. . .wow. I wonder. . .if Rocco would mind if I came over?*