Thursday, October 22, 2015

Christopher's Aftermath


      “Variety is the spice of life” is a phrase that's been attributed to English poet William Cowper and made famous by that faux wooden wall panel your mom bought at Pier 1 Imports. As noted in this blog's introductory post, the citizens of Midnight Hollow pride themselves on rejecting what is considered the “norm” by embracing the odd with open arms and minds. However, it's to be expected that one Sim's norm (well, what's ostensibly normal for the average Sim, anyway) is another Sim's weird.


     Let's be honest with ourselves. Chris' story is something right out of one of those corny 1960s sitcoms; His sweet-but-quirky mother, Angeline, grew up as an only child in a small, emotionally distant family. Angie desired children of her own so much she seduced six random men and ended up with nine little ones to call her own. Chris' four brothers and four sisters each have dreams that are traditionally “larger than life”, but his stood out the most: he wanted a decent job, a wonderful wife, two point five adorable kids and a nice eggshell white picket fence.

     Keep in mind, the town's residents include an artist that hates her job with a passion, a rich man that breaks for dumpster diving and thrift shops, and Wannabe Norman Bates. 

     As soon as Chris hit adulthood and left The Holland Home of Mayhem, he went straight to the police station, as they had careers that appealed the most to his brave nature. Sadly, unlike his elder brother, Bradley, getting any formal training from Sims University was out of the question, as he had spent all of his funds just buying himself a new home. Determined to achieve his dream job, he took the entry-level job as a desk jockey. 


    He wasn't the only new person around the station, though; he worked alongside -- and invited her to be his new roomie to help pay for the house -- a certain miss Francisca Shea. Remember that one girl that clung herself to Chris like glue as when they were kids?

They fight do something vaguely related to crime.
    Of course, they're weren't meant to be work buddies for too long; They honed their skills as much as possible when they were teens, hence these two flying through their lower career rungs. Francisca had honed her mental and physical skills so sharply since she wanted to be a part of the Midnight Hollow chapter of the International Super Spies, whereas Chris wanted to be known as a Dynamic DNA Profiler. The call of justice and honor and whatever else had been too strong for these two to resist.

     As well as the sounds of wedding bells. (Ah, childhood sweetheart success stories.) But they were too drunk, eager and cheap to hold a traditional wedding; In fact, this wedding was held only a month after Brad and Ye's own backyard affair. It had started one night when Chris was finally ready to pop the question; he and Fran were off to a date at some random bar in town, and after the typical super-romantic meal and candles and conversation, Chris felt the box that held the engagement ring in his pocket feeling awfully heavy. So he needed some liquid courage, and probably ended up using a few too many.



  The "large consumption of NON-ALCOHOLIC THIS IS A TEEN RATED GAME juice" plan did go well. Francisca accepted the proposal with a "YES!", a cheer, and a truck driver belch.



  But the liquid courage proved to be much stronger than that. Why settle for "just engaged" when you can go from fiance(é) to newlywed in a matter of moments?



   


   Fran was so very drunk and happy, and I thank her for the laughs.

  Thankfully for their household funds' sake, they weren't as eager to get a huge headstart on the parenting thing. But they got too it soon-ish, I assure you. . . once they bought a whole bunch of workout equipment for work . . . 




 . . . and went through that whole, "We're not ready for a baby, can we get a dog?" stage of love and marriage. Meet Ginger!



     It seemed as soon as she set a paw into her new home, she can whiff out the scent of "Baby or No?" her owners were permeated with. So, she mangled some furniture as a warning not to ignore her.


That green Supernatural full moon really ties it all together.
     Still, our heroes went off to work, putting criminals behind bars, desperately trying to ignore the resemblance a locked jail cell has to a baby's crib. For a whole entire week. Then, the morning after a passionate night, the puking commenced. 


      And three grueling days later, two new Hollands were added to the immense family tree.





     Did I mention earlier that Chris' life is one big corny sitcom? Seriously, all that's missing is the "awwww" and laugh tracks. Also, Elliot wants world peace, loves the outdoors, veggie dogs, the color pink and is light sleeper? I sense a future bohemian right here!



     These two had a real routine going on: They would eat, they would sleep, they would crap, they would get changed, they would cry for attention, repeat ad nauseam. All that was missing was the hair pulling and projectile vomiting. 


     For an added bonus, the envious sad dog!


     Thankfully, the two hellions aged up in style before their parents could blink (and fall on the floor thanks to exhaustion). Uncle Aaron, Aunt Ariella and a slightly older cousin Ainsley even dropped by for a visit!


     "So," Ariella said, "I can see why people would want to live here. It must be nice living in a black and white film."

Smiling sweetly and eyeballing the cake? Nope, nothing suspicious going on here?

     "Uncle Chris," Ainsley began, "I'm, like, so happy that I'm not the baby of the family anymore! Unlike babies, I can actually eat a chocolate cake and not smash it with my tiny baby fists."
      "That's great, honey, and you're smart enough to know that you can't eat someone else's birthday cake before they blow out the candles," her uncle stated with a wink.
    "Well, crap."