Day 6: Designing the Meeting
A word of warning, day 6 was a busy day.
Now that my four BandSims had begun to learn their instruments (heavy emphasis on begun) it was time to set the wheels of fate in motion. Sure, I could have withheld my hand out of the fray and hoped that these four random Sims, with different schedules and behaviors, could have just happened to all meet up in the same place, at the same time, with instruments handy, started jamming together, and then asked each other to form a band. But, I figured I had a better chance of getting Robi to become a monk, and so I went into total God Mode, and got to work.
The first thing I did was to build the proper meeting location. There are a few places around Bridgeport that could serve me well – clubs or various people’s apartments with instruments – but I noticed early on that there was no communal “park” type setting where musicians could just go hang out and jam. So I made one. The next step simply to get everyone gathered at Billboard Park, and let destiny begin! I checked in on Robi first, mostly to see if he had started to collect body parts in his fridge yet (he hadn’t), and was surprised to discover he was up and well rested at 7:30 in the morning, making waffles of all things. Well, I thought they were waffles. What came out was some kind of charred demon flesh, which he promptly devoured.
With a full belly and a mind full of fire, it was time to send Robi off to the park. When he arrived, he took one look at that drum set, sprinted over to it, and began to lay down a sick beat (well, it was actually pretty terrible,but you gotta love that enthusiasm).
At this point, I had to act fast. I had to get my Sims down to the park before they began to lose interest, or their autonomy began to kick in, and they left to wander around like a bunch of musically inclined cattle. I hopped on Farrah next, because if nothing else, I could at least start a band with a drummer and a guitarist. However, when I arrived back at the park, I was greeted with this scene.
Those sons a bitches. Robi’s massive blast beats and snare rolls must have echoed out across every corner of the city, calling people to him like some kind of jungle beast mating call. How was I going to get my other Sims to their instruments, with Lucy JeanSkirt and Bobby McTrackPants hogging all the tunage? Perhaps there would be a “Throwdown” or “Knife Fight” social option, and so, after setting Farrah up on her axe, I jumped over to Pete “Second Most Likely to Cut a Dude” Hopper, ready to bring him down to reclaim his rightful place as Bass Master. But first, I had to deal with this.
I had no time to have him change back into his awesome bowler hat. He would just have to control his Hipster vibes and bass it out as is. Fortunately, it looked as if Lucy JeanSkirt was finished with her instrument-hogging fun. Unfortunately, just as he was arriving, Farrah decided she’d had enough, and called it a day. That feisty faux-ginger! I was annoyed, but Pete could care less. He had just met Greta, Bertha’s twin sister, and had fallen in love.
Robi was, of course, still banging away, because the French word for stop has more syllables than the French word for go, and Robi hates excess syllables. I had to act fast. Farrah needed to get her ass back there and create the perfect first meeting. How dare she meddle with fate! That damnable Snooki! Like a bat out of hell (no Meatloaf pun intended) we raced back to Billboard park, her crest of crimson hair flapping through the open window of her junker car like the tail of a righteous comet, sent to Earth to purge to non-music lovers from the land. With a final leap over the fence, she power-slid into position, and set things right once more.
Now, three out of four wasn’t bad, but I wanted perfection. Claudia wasn’t here, and that was just not good enough. But, would I be able to even bring that shy, soon-to-be world-famous pianist out of her home and in front of a slowly gathering crowd? I had to try. But first, I had to lure her away from the treadmill.
Now a sweaty mess and dressed in her workout clothes, she took off in a sprint towards Billboard Park. Luckily, it was only two blocks away. The crowd had grown since I’d last checked it, and Claudia was definitely growing red in the cheeks, but the sight of those ivory keys was just too much to resist. Sliding into place behind the keyboard, she finally completed the ensemble, and started all four of these Sims down a road of stardom the likes of which they could not begin to imagine.
The hours passed, flying by like notes in a melody. Day turned to night, the lights came on, and strangers soon became acquaintances and dancing partners, all to the sweet soundtrack of these four strangers. It was truly a beautiful thing, even with two Sims performing the Dip right in front of Claudia. But, inevitably, after a solid nine hour jam session, Robi was the first to announce his departure, doing so with his soon-to-be-trademarked “Your Soul Is Mine” stare.
Acting fast, I jumped over to Sir Satan and nudged him over to Farrah, hoping to make an introduction that would lead to the formation of the world’s greatest band. Instead, Robi decided it was time to turn on his own charm, beginning with the never-creepy knuckle crack/smug look combo.
Fortunately, he managed to keep his inner psycho at bay long enough to properly introduce himself, shaking Farrah’s hand. With his own hand, not his face or a watermelon or whatever it is the criminally insane think is the proper procedure for first meetings. The two of them hit it off instantly. I’m not sure if it was Robi’s devilishly good looks, or perhaps Farrah had shotgunned a case of Natty during her jam session, but they quickly became friends, and opened up the Form a Band option. I hadn’t planned on having Robi be the one to initiate such a request – the thought of him performing such a mature and competent task didn’t really jive with his M.O of dumpster journeys and trying to set fire to things with his mind. But, when life gives you lemons…
You form Masochistic Murder Llama. Since there’s no Death Metal music option within the game (at least with this expansion. I never bought the Swedish Black Metal DLC), the specific genre of MML would be a mystery until their distinctive sound could be honed and wielded like a blade of harmonious brutality. And, of course, there’s no vocals in this band, further defining them as a renegade of the music world. But, the hour was late, and two Sims does not make a band (at least, a band as majestically epic as Masochistic Murder Llama). And so, turning on his suave intensity, Robi invited Pete and Claudia to round out MML. Surprisingly, Claudia set aside any feelings of shyness and joined enthusiastically. Pete kept playing the bass for a few minutes after I tried to talk to him, but the persistent Frenchman was finally able to get through to Mr. Hopper, thus cementing the ultimate quartet of hotel-trashing, amp-melting perfection. It was at this point that Robi’s façade of normalcy crumbled away, as he turned to the nearest person and began ranting about starting fires and aliens.
The best part was the grin that was plastered across his face the entire time he was talking. At one point, I could’ve sworn I thought I heard a second Simlish voice speaking the same words as Robi, like some kind of demonic presence was manifesting itself from Robi’s messed up ideas about whale species and the consistency of cottage cheese.
I could tell Robi was having fun, regardless of how many nearby souls he was tainting with his demon-tongue. But, there is such a thing as too much fun, even for the Dark Lord’s own right hand. Just after midnight, a day’s worth of jamming finally caught up with Robi, and he dropped to the floor mid-conversation, passing out with such force that the thud of his impact surely triggered quake alarms.
With that, I decided it was time to draw the day to a close. It had been hugely successful, Masochistic Murder Llama was now totally legit, and Robi hadn’t killed anyone. But, I knew the road ahead would be even more difficult – ripped jeans and two gingers does not guarantee success. It would take hard work, determination, and probably some kind of quality, Robi-proofed restraining device to navigate the perils of being in a band. The only question was, how long would these four souls last on such a journey?