The Montgomery Perfect Genetics 2.0
Last Time on the Montgomerys: Asher died, all the kids grew up and left, Ingrid became a young adult, and Ingrid's beau, Kristoffer, moved in. Also, the Montgomerys relocated to Starlight Shores. whoa new generation whoa. Also my summer officially begins tomorrow, at the end of my last exam, so I get to look forward to three months of playing The Sims 3 without petty interruption.
This is a good way to begin an update.
So as Kristoffer works on his Athletic skill for his military career, Ingrid works on her Writing skill for her journalism career.
She is literally Asher 2.0 and I don't mind that one bit.
Deer: 'Sup.
Reagan is sent out to watch the deer.
Bambi, on the other hand, is a little bitch, and watching is as far as Reagan got.
Bambi: FUK U N UR FAMILY. I HATE U ALL.
Three sims sitting awkwardly in a taxi on the verge of motive failure?
Yeah, it's graduation time. I hate graduation. I don't even know why they're attending graduation in Starlight Shores, seeing as they are not graduates of Starlight Shores, but whatever, game. Have it your way.
Kristoffer here got Most Popular. Seeing as how he is the dorkiest person in existence, I have a hard time believing that.
Ingrid got Most Likely To Take Over The World.
See, it must be because the people at Starlight Shores High don't know them at all.
I have a love/hate relationship with the Slob trait.
Currently I hate it with a passion because every other Montgomery, married-in or not, has it. This is not an appropriate family trait, nor is it one that I want.
Ingrid: So, we have the money now.
They do. As you may notice, their bedroom looks different, as it was impossible to live in before. Redecoration gave them back some money, so the wedding is on, baby, on.
Kristoffer! You look cute. But cute in a puppy dog way, not in a macho military man way. This job does not fit you at all, good sir.
No difference.
Reagan: Why do I even try.
She broke the toilet and the sink and succession.
She made food, walked out the front door, walked in a wide circle around their front door, went back inside...
and sat down to enjoy her meal at the dinner table.
Senility, she has it.
Insert segue here, because:
Ingrid: I can't believe I'm about to get married.
Kristoffer was a little late, but that's okay.
Ingrid: Are you ready to get married, Kristoffer?
Kristoffer: Yes, yes I am. Can I just tell you that you look extremely beautiful right now?
Ingrid: You're not too bad yourself. But let's get started.
Wedding spam because I let Ingrid have her day and it was so so so pretty.
Kristoffer: I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you.
Ingrid: I love you so much.
Obivously, they can't wait to get home.
Ingrid: Last one to the bedroom's a rotten egg!
Kristoffer: Gosh darn it to heck, she knows I'm fatigued from my previous workouts, why does she have to threaten me with rotten eggdom?
Kristoffer: Oh, but how I love her so!
I don't know, man. It was a good picture.
But the way that they look at each other! So earnestly, sigh. I love it.
Kristoffer: I really want to get to the bed in there to do the thing with you but there's a door with a lock that's blocking me.
Ingrid: That may be because it's my mother's room, and we are not consummating our marriage using her bed. Besides, I have a better idea.
Shower sex, of course.
They are so in love that they have become one person.
Despite the fact that was literally in her bedroom, five steps away from her bed, Ingrid finds it necessary to go all the way downstairs and pass out in the entryway.
We all know what this means.
This stray dog is really, really cute, but he tears up all our newspapers, so there's that.
Reagan: I really dislike that kid that you chose to marry.
Says Reagan, as said kid fixes all the appliances she broke in her bathroom previously in the update.
But I feel bad for Reagan; she does truly live a lonely life without six kids and her husband by her side. So, she watches a lot of television.
Ingrid writes a lot.
Kristoffer exercises a lot.
Also, ROID RAGE.
So Kristoffer has this thing with Reagan's bed.
And it's creepy.
Therefore, I locked Reagan's door to everybody but herself.
Ingrid: I feel funny.
Ingrid: Oh! Now I feel pregnant.
Kristoffer: Well, I tried.
bb, leave the cooking to those with the skill points.
Ingrid: I love you, Mom. I'm sorry that I don't get to spend that much time with you because of my work, but I do love you, and I'm sorry that you're by yourself so much.
Reagan: That means a lot, Ingrid.
Ingrid: Now are you sure you don't want to go to a nursing home?
Reagan: If Ingrid's that concerned, I'll show her my worth by turning off these lights. Saving money is fun!
You're not a Montgomery unless you look cute napping.
Asher! Hello, old friend ♥
Okay then.
Ingrid: Now, hmm, what would me and the little one like to eat?
Ingrid: What's that, little one? You want a rainbow popsicle? What a coincidence, I do too!
(Also, starting here and for a couple more pictures, the quality gets ... wonky. I don't know why.)
These things are pretty fantastic, not gonna lie.
I would not want to walk down the stairs and into the ghost of my father-in-law.
Ingrid: Dad!
Asher: I'm sorry, I didn't know you were in there!
Asher is a creepy ghost, no surprises. Also, he refused to leave.
Classic Asher.
Ingrid: Don't you just love our new house, Dad?
Asher: No.
Ingrid: Well fuck you too.
Asher haunts the couch. What a cranky old man.
Reagan: Now that you're back, I don't know what to say. I've missed you a lot, Asher. They say that you don't know what you've got until it's gone, and I didn't believe in that until I lost you.
Asher: Aw, Reagan. Don't worry, I'm sure you'll be with me soon.
Reagan: That's not really what I meant, but okay.
Kristoffer: The book was better than the movie.
Ingrid: My goodness, and I thought it was impossible to love you more than I already do.
Yeah, it's baby time.
ASHER GO HOME.
I reset him. I love you bb, but ghosts get annoying.
It's a girl!
Meet Marcelle Montgomery, an easily-impressed slob who enjoys pop music, veggie burgers, and the color green. In addition, She's a Sagittarius.
She's genetically perfect. Which, in comparison with last generation, makes me almost forgive her for the fact that she's a slob. And the third genetically perfect Sagittarius in a row.
This is a good place to leave off, no?
Next Time on the Montgomerys: I may or may not let them have another kid; I haven't decided yet. Actually, I have no idea what's going to happen next time, because I played 60/65 of these pictures today, and was waiting for Marcelle to be born before I quit.