A Sims 3 Experiment: Day 40

Day 40: Fisticuffs and Fornication

The feeling of maturity that was so palpable the day before continued strong into the next morning, as it found Robi up early, watering his tiny garden.

Two lettuce sprouts and a fledgling grape vine. Hey, I like the initiative)
Two lettuce sprouts and a fledgling grape vine. Hey, I like the initiative)

Now, being a celebrity has its drawbacks. Most prominently, the paparazzi. Robi couldn’t even water his lettuce without some nosy bitch barging on to the – now fenced-off – Llama property and snapping some pictures of him. The nerve of some people. Because of this, Robi was forced back inside, cursing that she-devil, watering can still in hand. Luckily, the ladies of the house were having some quality girl-talk, which he was more than happy to join.

“Oh no, Claud. You’d look beautiful in the blue eye shadow. Also, I am the Devourer of Souls”
“Oh no, Claud. You’d look beautiful in the blue eye shadow. Also, I am the Devourer of Souls”

It was at this point in the day, things began to heat up a bit. Now, from what I’ve seen of Sim relationships, they’re pretty much all crazy, all the time. There can be a stretch of a week where nothing will happen between two Sims, and then the next day, it’s like each one has treasure buried in their faces, and the only way to find it is with each other’s tongue. And, of course, like many a steamy escapade, all it takes is one touch.

He’s giving her a massage. Get your minds out of the gutter. At least for now
He’s giving her a massage. Get your minds out of the gutter. At least for now

And, that first touch leads to another,

“Just so you know, I have to wear two Magnums at once”
“Just so you know, I have to wear two Magnums at once”

Until finally,

No comment needed
No comment needed

Yeah, Robi totally banged the Swiss Butler. The game was quick to inform me that it was indeed his first time, which I just can’t accept as truth. A dude like that, there’s no way he didn’t have sex with something at some point. Whatever the case, he must be the Zeus of boning, because Janet strutted around for the next four hours in her underwear, finishing her butler duties like unclogging a toilet, mopping the floor, and washing the dishes, while strutting, and never bothering to put pants on.

Post-coital montage!
Post-coital montage!

What the rest of the household was doing while these two were gettin’ freaky, I have no idea. But I hope it doesn’t make things awkward whenever they pass Janet in the hall. For his part, I don’t think Pete know’s that anything actually happened. He was too caught up in painting some atrocity that should never see the light of day.

Now, despite the level of fornication that occurred in Robi’s bedroom, it was only 2 pm, which is unfortunate, because it meant that bitch of a paparazzi was still there. Oh, no I’m sorry. She was still there, and swimming in my damn pool. I’m not one to simply deny someone a refreshing dip in the pool, even if they show up uninvited and presumably jump my locked gate to get to it. Pools are fun, and there’s no reason to get upset in its wonderous, liquid presence. But, when said uninvited guest proceeds to stay in your pool for eight freaking hours, neither myself nor the members of MML will stand for it any longer. Both Farrah and Robi went out repeatedly and told her to “stop doing that”, which is the equivalent of whining from the upstairs window, but whatever, it was the best they could do. When she still hadn’t left an hour later, Robi snapped. First, he called her mother a llama, which I didn’t realize was a thing until he said it.

Do you need some aloe vera…
Do you need some aloe vera…

Then, he proceeded to mock her appearance, which was made all the better by his awesome gestures and facial expressions.

...for that sick burn!
…for that sick burn!

At this point, this escaped mental patient (the paparazzi, not Robi) lost another screw herself, and attacked! And I mean, she jumped on Robi and thought she could beat him into submission.

Robi Duboise, about to choke a bitch
Robi Duboise, about to choke a bitch

Now, it was a clear case of self defense, so I felt no need to lecture him on gentlemanly behavior. Besides, he wore a suit while he showed her what was up, so he kept things classy. Apparently, that was finally the motivation she needed to understand she was no longer welcomed. And so, with a final declaration that Robi was now her nemesis (seriously), she took off in an awkward, toddling jog into the sunset, presumably telling herself to not look back. It was as fitting an end to a day as could be expected anymore. In a single day filled with kinky Swiss-style sex and paparazzi beatdowns, I was lucky that something hadn’t caught on fire, or that the police hadn’t been called. Or both. A day without the cops showing up is always a good thing.

 

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