The Greens v2.0 - Generation 4.3
Previously: Children happened. Lots. And lots. Of children.
Let us begin with a...mostly innocent picture of rather normal goings on.
Pillsbury... Stop staring at my selfsim like that.
Pillsbury: BWAHAHAHA!
Heathre: Sunuvabitch!
...hi, Argento.
...seriously, dog.
COME ON.
Also, PENGUIN.
All of these scares in one night. Thank you, Argento. Really. :|
Meanwhile, Motown is wishing death upon her sister. HOW NICE.
Motown: I love my cousin! My sister can go die in a fire.
Meanwhile, downstairs...
Adam. Stop heartfarting all over Harry Ryan and go get the toaster pasteries out of the oven.
GODDAMNIT.
...is this my first legacy fire?
I think it is.
Let me tell you, though.
It is certainly not the last.
Fireman: Wait. Did the butler do it?
Harry Ryan: Oh, my poor, scorched pasteries.
Goody McTwoshoes: Oh no! My arch-nemesis, Evil O'Nasty!
Evil O'Nasty: Mwaaahahaha! There is not enough goodness left here to sustain you now, McTwoshoes!
Goody McTwoshoes: Noooo! NOOOOO! I'M MELTIIIIING! WHAT SHALL BECOME OF MY FAMILY?
Evil O'Nasty: MWAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!
...
I may or may not be losing my mind. You be the judges.
Anywho...
Manolete: Did you know that grandpa and grandpa are totally gay?
Yes, Manolete brought home his cousin, Spencer.
Yes, I did let Cholo marry his university sweetheart, Professor Green.
These two are THE BESTESTEST FRIENDS EVARRRR.
...okay, not really, but they're cute.
Oh right. That very night I managed to only catch Sutherland's birthday due to the event camera.
Iffff I onnnnly hadda nose. Doot dadoot dadoodily doo.
....HARRY.
Foxy: P.S. Simgod, I'm a popularity sim with no friends except your selfsim!
Heathre: No really, Mr. Shrub. You should make a trip to the art gallery before the current exhibit is through.
...P.S. Simgod, being friends with this family is seriously driving your selfsim insane.
GODDAMNIT, HARRY, DON'T MAKE ME GET RID OF YOU.
Oh hey. Lynch grew up.
Since the first puppy was a girl and I have so many sims running around, I decided that I'd just take whatever I got this time with the dogs.
I'm actually pretty happy. She's adorable.
Malone: Who the fuck are you and where's my puppy?
Lynch: I am your goddamned puppy, you cenile, old bitch!
Malone: Oh, in that case...
Lynch: Playtime!
Rine: Simgo-ha-hod! My favorite cousin just passed out and she's distracting me from homework!
Sutherland: OhnoohnoohnoshepassedoutIcan'tlook.
Sutherland is officially the only child in this house with pretty much any nice points at all.
Anyway, the passing out didn't really matter all that much as it was time for the not-trips birthday.
So here we my zombie-loving (vegan) ninny, Motown.
Family/Fortune
9 - 10 - 9 - 3 - 1
+ Fit/Unemployed
- Charisma
Marry Off 6 Children
My sleepy-eyed prince, Manolete.
Romance/Knowledge
9 - 8 - 3 - 3 - 3
+ Make-up/Unemployed
- Blonde Hair
Become Professional Party Guest
And my creepy alien boy, Pillsbury.
Fortune/Romance
9 - 8 - 0 - 10 - 0
Full-Face Make-Up/Hard Worker
Logic
Become Criminal Mastermind
By the way, my old folks still know how to properly consume one another.
And my ghosts are still assholes. =_=
Ain't this just a sight?
NOT AS MUCH OF A SIGHT AS THIS.
Holy shit, Foxy. If I didn't know any better, I'd almost think you really were atrociously evil.
ARE. YOU. SERIOUS.
This happens every morning. Harry puts toaster pasteries in the oven.
Then he goes to fix something else while he waits.
And completely forgets about the toaster pasteries.
EVERY. MORNING. RIGHT BEFORE SCHOOL.
Anyway, since I've got a few teens, I decided it was time for a little outing.
Motown: Come here, you big lug! Let me show you who's boss!
Pillsbury: GODDAMNIT, WOMAN, NOT IN PUBLIC.
Manolete: Yeah, you know what? I call your bullshit.
Unsavory: Eh heh...heh. Erm.
Alien Chick: Simgod's been futzing with defaults again. How do I look?
Jason: ...kind of like a leprachaun, actually.
Alien Chick: My dear boy, some day you will fully understand and appreciate blah blah blah.
Pillsbury: Just shut up already before I shank you.
So yeah. Outing was a wash. OH WELL. Back home we go.
TO CALL THE GARDEN CLUB, YEEHAW.
Mission: Garden Club? Much less of a wash than Mission: Teen Outing. >:}
First one up is our little romancer.
Manolete: Please make them hot. I don't care if it's male or female. Just hot.
*wonders if he should possibly be more specific*
Whatever. GENDER CHOOSER TIME-OUT.
And...what?
I was too busy rofl-ing over Anchor discreetly watching fromt he background as a grown woman kissed her teen brother's eyeball to catch a shot of the actual kiss.
However, their make-outs made up for it. So very much.
And now, because I don't have enough brainpower to go on. Let us end this update with a moment of Pillsbury.
Pillsbury: Yeah, baby, let's just leave you with the gun show.
Next Time: Awkward conversations, more wishing well hijinks and the return of the sibling rivalry!