A Sims 3 Experiment: Day 16

Day 16: Ain’t No Party Like an MML Party

The next day found everyone up bright and early, enjoying the outdoors beneath a beautiful morning sky. Farrah and Claudia were chilling to some tunes by the pool. Pete was checking out the telescope. And Robi was walking around the yard, picking up rocks.

“Ahh oui, je t’aime. Je te nommerai Beatrice.”
“Ahh oui, je t’aime. Je te nommerai Beatrice.”

He ended up netting about $100 from finding these fallen space rocks (I still have no idea how or when they fell), and I’m sure he would’ve searched all day long were it not for an unexpected interruption. Without a knock on the door or a phone call or anything, a second paparazzi showed up, walking around to the back patio like he owned the place, taking pictures of Pete and his telescope. I could already see the headlines – “Long-haired Ginger of Local Band, Bridgeport’s Newest Voyeur”. Fortunately, Robi hates intruding photographers as much as he loves the voices in his head, and in no time, he was all up in that dude’s business.

He just insulted this guy’s mom in French, Simlish, and Demonic.
He just insulted this guy’s mom in French, Simlish, and Demonic.

Only a fool would remain after such a verbal onslaught. This paparazzi was not so foolish, and quickly evacuated the premises, Robi continuing to shout after him as he drove away. Who needs a guard dog when you have the fel-touched mind of Robi Duboise.

After a late breakfast, it was time for everyone to learn some new tunes. After their second gig, I sent them all to the store to pick up some instrumental skill books. Being the bookworm of the group, Claudia was of course the first one to finish.

Only in the Sim world do your achievements literally turn into fireworks and explode above your head
Only in the Sim world do your achievements literally turn into fireworks and explode above your head

It was about that time when everyone received an invitation to a fellow B-Lister’s pool party. Somehow, quite unexpectedly, and even more suddenly, Masochistic Murder Llama had become known throughout the celebrity circles of Bridgeport (the fact that such circles were minor and unimpressive didn’t matter to us.) Not even stopping to question what kind of party it would be at 8:30 pm on a Tuesday, everyone piled into the biggest car and drove approximately 500 feet to the party. The mood was beyond excited. In fact, as soon as everyone was out of the car, they sprinted around the corner of the property fence, chatted with each other for a minute, and then changed into their swimming attire, presumably complimenting each other, and reassuring one another that Farrah’s mystery sludge hadn’t added any excess weight and/or love handles. It was as this point that the host of the party came out and announced how hungry she was.

Note Pete’s awesome pony tail. That’s Petenese for “full on party mode, bitches”
Note Pete’s awesome pony tail. That’s Petenese for “full on party mode, bitches”

Of course, the gang was there to party, not submit to some other Two-star schmo’s inconvenient demands. Much to my applause, MML downright refused to feed that woman her own food, and went forth, determined to live the good life. Unfortunately, there were only four other people at this party, and the pool was large enough to fit about three Sims (or one very large Sim.) And, despite the invitation indicating that it was a pool party, we were the only ones wearing our swimming gear. Undaunted, everyone did their best to mingle, met with snobbery and cold shoulders at every turn (much as one could expect from a handful of life time low-grade celebs.) Robi, leader as he always is, took such behavior in stride, quickly finding the pool and eschewing the normal behaviors.

Despite the crystal clarity of the water, Robi was damned determined to catch the biggest fish anyone at that party had ever seen
Despite the crystal clarity of the water, Robi was damned determined to catch the biggest fish anyone at that party had ever seen

After a couple of hours of listening to some nobody play the guitar (Farrah certainly wasn’t going to play on her night out) the gang started to feel the pangs of party hunger. Raiding the host’s fridge, they made themselves a various assortment of ice cream, cereal, and grilled cheese sandwiches (none of which were shared with the presumably still-hungry host, because fuck her. She should’ve made some hors d’oeuvres, or hell, even some Totino’s Pizza Rolls or something.) By that time, the “party” was winding down, and we were soon the only guests left. Luckily, the hostess finally realized just how terrible her party was, and called it a night. MML responded by chilling in her front yard for another hour.

Farrah and Robi played catch with a football, because why not.
Farrah and Robi played catch with a football, because why not.

But, perhaps the most wonderous moment of the night came when Pete and Claudia passed each other’s friendzone barriers, and stepped up to bat, first base clearly in sight.

 It was actually just a friendly hug, but Claudia is definitely enraptured by the love machine we all know as Pete.
It was actually just a friendly hug, but Claudia is definitely enraptured by the love machine we all know as Pete.

After this, with everyone feeling pretty tired and just about partied out, it was time to return home and rest up. Their next gig was less than 12 hours away, and I had the feeling that they would need to put on the best show of their short careers in order to advance out of the dive bar circuit.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s