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The Squeaky Clean Legacy, Chapter 4.3: Who Wants Ten Kids?
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Transcript of The Squeaky Clean Legacy, Chapter 4.3: Who Wants Ten Kids?
The Squeaky Clean Legacy By Professor Butters
Chapter 4.3: Who Wants Ten Kids?
Gree$ngs, I'm Professor-‐-‐well, Bu5ers, and I'm here to bring you the next chapter of the Squeaky Clean Legacy with the assistance of one of my friends.
As you can imagine, I quickly grew $red of living here. But I would need a placeholder. I immediately thought of Abner and Vanessa Goodytwoshoes, who have been living in the Sim Bin with newborn twin girls.
Hello, guys! Goodbye, guys! I'll be off of the computer in a minute!
Aren't they great parents? Sheesh.
OK, ou5a here. Don't take any wooden nickels, and keep the babies off the ground.
Much, much be5er. Nicer decor, piano, stained glass. . .
Big stucco house-‐-‐that's Edith Goodytwoshoes. She's married to one of my Legacy spares and is probably trying to kiss up. No, I can't get your husband Mor$mer a job in the Legacy again. And I bet if you asked him he'd say he doesn't want one. He's enjoying life as a spare.
Stephen Stotch trying to corrupt my cats, Burt and Dizz. . .
Got a job-‐-‐now for the next item of business.
Nope.
When I pay for something, I do not expect to get the same unacceptable item twice. Try again.
Publius Numan$us, from Blite27's Ten Caesars Legacy. GeYng warmer. Bye, Publius, and remember-‐-‐a date's not lame if it never gets started, OK?
There was something I had to do, and I thought it would require a bit of explaining. What I didn't expect was this-‐-‐
Flavius Marius: PROFESSOR BUTTERS! Save meeeee! -‐-‐Yeesh, Flavius, will you hold your horses? Flavius: But we're married! -‐-‐In Blite's Legacy, not here! For heaven's sake, I hardly even know you! Flavius: Where is everybody? Where's Drusus? Where's my homicidal aunt Renee? Where's narrator guy? Where's Publius? -‐-‐Drusus is running around somewhere, your aunt Renee is ac$ng as a freelance death consultant, but she doesn't know you're here yet. "Narrator guy" was last seen buying toys, and your cousin Publius, um, just le`.
PB: See, Flavius, I'm worried about you. Over in Blite's Legacy, you don't stand a chance. You're like a guppy in a tank of piranhas. It's only a ma5er of $me before someone feeds you a poisoned mushroom to get you out of the way. . .
Flavius: This isn't mushroom pizza, is it?
PB: See, I'm an Arts and Humani$es type, and I know the book Ben's basing his legacy on. You could be in real trouble. Are you processing this?
Flavius: Hmmm? Oh, yeah! I got it.
PB: So you can hide out here if you want to. I'm pre5y powerful around here and I'm on the crime track-‐-‐they aren't going to touch me. Do you like the idea?
I thought you might.
Burton: Roman, go home. We got here first.
(with apologies to Life of Brian)
PB: So the first thing I suggest you do is get a job. You're Popularity, you want to be a Hall of Famer, easier than being Mayor, anyhow. So head on over to the computer.
Focus, Flavius, you're job hun$ng, ok?
I said focus!
Oh, for crying out loud. You really are much too op$mis$c, you know that? Get out of that stupid llama oudit and come downstairs. I want to make sure you really understand what's going on.
OK, let me explain this again. You are in danger over there, you are a refugee here.
You can hang out here. All I'm asking is that you help to co-‐host this next chapter. You think you've got it now?
Flavius: Uh-‐huh. Think so.
I'm here as a pet, right?
PB: Um, yeah. That's it.
Huh? Publius, I thought you said that was a lame date. Why are you calling?
No, I can't go out with you because your dorky cousin thinks we're prac$cally engaged now. If I throw him out, he'll be kicking over my garbage can forever.
Besides, I just can't bring myself to do it. I've become. . .Squeaky Clean!
Yeah, sure, Sim Self, make excuses all you like. Some simselves live with pirates, some are gone on Don the Zombie-‐-‐mine seems to have a thing for the Dorkiest Roman of Them All. And before you go saying that's weird, ask yourself-‐-‐how many simselves have been with Gage Uglacy by now? I rest my case. Look on the bright side. There's no ques$on as to who'll wear the pants. Flavius doesn't even own pants. And this was all his idea. Give him credit, because he doesn't get too many of those.
OK, Flavius, you're on. Explain the rules of the Squeaky Clean Legacy.
Just read the text off the prompter.
Flavius: The rules say that only girls inherit, and they have to be really, really well-‐behaved. Heirs can't WooHoo outside of marriage, and they have to Try For Baby. No room for baby, no Try For Baby, no WooHoo. Wow, sure glad I didn't sign up for that one, huh?
He's got that right, folks. When we last le` the Squeaky Clean Legacy, the heiress Daisie Mae had just had twin girls, Delighdul and Moonbeam, producing an heir and a spare and absolving her from "marital du$es" for the rest of her adult life.
Her husband, the former Remington Harris, did not appear to be very happy about this, but the house is packed with. . . the founder's husband, Shane; their son Earthquake; their son Ralph; the twin girls; their cats Darling and Thay, and a ki5en on the way. No room for babies, no WooHoo. I held out the hope that he might be allowed to Try For Baby to hit the Impossible Want of Ten Children, since they have one son in college and another who tragically died of a mysterious disease. And now it all hangs on what Remington rolls. If he rolls that Impossible Want, it's elixir for them and a lot of caffeine for me.
Ah, this would be the mysterious-‐disease kid, Tiny, a vic$m of his mother's Simsanto Science sta$on.
Tiny: Howdy, Gramps! Be seein' ya soon!
Poor Daisie Mae-‐-‐no wonder she's thinking about po5y training in her sleep; it's about to start all over again.
Make that two ki5ens, a boy, Sugarcane, and a girl, Sweetheart. So now we have four cats and seven people in a tooth-‐achingly pink house.
Who do you think Shane's talking to? That's right-‐-‐my simself. No way, Shane, not even in your palmy days-‐-‐no way. Much less now that you've got one foot in the grave.
I was trying to figure out who on earth Shane was dreaming about, when I realized that he was dreaming of his palmy days. Oh, to be young again.
First picture of Moonbeam. She may turn out to be cute! Hard to tell what the face is going to be like, but another blue-‐eyed blonde like Grandma and Daddy. Just to make things confusing, Remington has dyed his hair brown and Daisie Mae has dyed hers blonde, but you can tell it's not her natural hair color if you look at her eyebrows.
And of course Grandpa adores li5le Delighdul, who looks as though she's going to look like him: jet black hair and huge, huge lips. Oh, well.
Remington, you missed the party. As in, totally. It's over.
But there's s$ll $me to max your body skill. So close to your LTW of Captain Hero.
Whoops. Sorry. Your so-‐called "friends" decided to stop being your friends five whole minutes before you were promoted. And now there's two days before you go to work again. If we had a cowplant, I'd be up for invi$ng them over, but it wouldn't help.
Earthquake grows up, he's fat, he's off to college. At least he's maxed Crea$vity. To me he looks pre5y much like every other male Goodytwoshoes except for his brother Joe, so there's no thrill there.
Genera$on three of the cats. This is the male, Sugarcane. . .
And here's the female, Sweetheart. This is what you get when you breed an all-‐white Angora to a tuxedo cat and the resul$ng ki5en to a Birman. We can only keep one, and it's hard to pick. Sweetheart is cuter, I think, but the kids all love Sugarcane.
Shane, you old scoundrel. How you doin'?
Yes, of course I'm willing to try and make an old man happy. Horribly enough, my simself has two bolts with him and with Remington. Hey, listen up, simself-‐-‐unless you want to have seven-‐plus kids and stretch marks you could hide a Volkswagen in, you'll give the Family Sim guys a wide berth.
Hooray, Remington, you did it! You made Captain Hero! So what's your new LTW?
Remington: To raise twenty puppies and ki5ens!
No freakin' way.
Birthday $me again.
Delighdul: Hooray, hooray! I'm Delighdul!
Whatever you say, kid.
Linda Stotch and Chrissy Stra5on have been invited because they're Remington's friends, but I have to watch them. They're not above a li5le husband-‐stealing-‐-‐at least, I don't think Chrissy is-‐-‐so we've go5en the bubble blower to distract them.
And this is Moonbeam, who didn't make it to the cake. She grew up pla$num, yes, but also prac$cally asleep on her feet. I suspect that she may grow up to be pre5y. We'll see.
So tuckered out that she has a wonderful party in her sleep.
Ralph grows up Knowledge-‐-‐max Seven skills-‐-‐and immediately starts working on geYng them all in, becoming an overachiever, and geYng himself abducted by aliens.
Remington gives him cleaning lessons.
Remington: Now, son, you watch out for that Simsanto Sta$on.
Ralph: DUH, Dad, I'm just scanning it for prints.
Wonder what he finds? Daisie Mae? Renee? Me? We all had a hand in Tiny's death.
Shane is geYng really really really old. He could go any minute, and I'm trying to keep him $dy for the occasion. The toy store is almost ready to pass along: Remington's earned his silver toymaking badge now and has had almost all the business perks passed along-‐-‐at least the ones that Shane had. The business teeters from level two to three to back again, and it's partly because of the gold sales badge employees. They hard sell and $ck off customers. Remington, with a whopping one Charisma point and no sales badge, is actually doing be5er by simply doing a basic sell and showing customers items they're already looking at.
Daisie Mae's switched over to the Paranormal field, so now we have a bone phone.
Remington: Rrrrowl. Love the new work uniform.
Oh, don't worry. I'm sure you can't get pregnant anymore, right?
Um, I mean-‐-‐I'm prac$cally sure. Remington, admit it-‐-‐you like geYng your poor Knowledge Sim wife knocked up. Over and over! Remington: Well, yeah. Then she stays home and pays a li5le a5en$on to me, when she isn't talking to the mirror. Don't take it personally. She's trying to max Charisma, the only skill she hasn't maxed already.
Daisie Mae: Dang elixir.
Hmm. How many ways can you say "this is not a good $me?" We're back with the darned headmaster-‐private school thing again. Daisie Mae's the best cook, but she also has the most charisma, so I assign her to the tour. The girls come back from school all stressed out from lack of fun,and they both brought li5le school friends, so I make Shane volunteer to make pork chops. And that, of course, is exactly when Grim comes a-‐knockin'.
Daisie Mae sobs hysterically throughout the tour. Remington finishes up the pork chops. I wish I could say that he was distracted by Shane's death, but actually it was a pet brick, and he burned them. The girls got in by the skin of their teeth, but they got in.
The hulas don't come, but Shane gets a pla$num urn.
Flavius: Wow. So there's go5a be a lot of ghosts over there by now, right?
Well, there's three. Luckily Ralph is a Knowledge Sim and enjoys seeing them while he's out watching for aliens by the crypt.
Tiny: Ooga-‐booga, Mom! Take that!
You know what's sad? Dying in your good suit and then floa$ng around in this hideous polo shirt for all eternity.
Daisie Mae's been pregnant so many $mes-‐-‐and she's pregnant again-‐-‐that we're both sick to death of the Maxis default clothes. With a li5le hack from Squinge and a nice retro dress from all-‐about-‐style, we've got some decent maternity wear, finally.
Ralph maxes Logic while s$ll wearing his Weiner World uniform.
Shane: Great job! Ooga-‐booga!
Purple Bunny, who writes the Pira$cal Legacy, stops by to talk to Moonbeam. Purple Bunny: The expansion pack's supposed to be out in a week or two. Moonbeam: Oh boy oh boy!
Purple Bunny's not the only simself in town. A lot of them can be seen at the Crypt o' Night Club, like Renee-‐-‐ Renee: Hey, even a death consultant has to unwind some$mes. When there's too many kids in a house, they're glad to see me coming.
And Ephemeral Toast, the author of Apocalypso A Go Go.
"Pinball? 'Juice?' Couches to jump on? Sign me up!"
Let's hope she's not drinking to forget the Gage Bachelor Challenge.
Daisie Mae, what do you think you're doing? You had twin newborns a few hours ago. You're on leave. Daisie Mae: Remington's home. They're his babies. And if I don't get to go to work, I think I'll scream. This li5le autonymous going to work thing speaks volumes about Daisie Mae's boredom with motherhood. Her mother Rosie would never have gone to work if there were babies at home. In fact, she didn't go to work when I insisted several $mes and finally got fired. Night and day.
Rosie: Waah! What, are you worried that they've forgo5en you? Rosie: Nooo! My daughter doesn't adore babies! Well, you were a Family Sim. She's a Knowledge Sim. She's doing the best she can-‐-‐cut her some slack.
Daisie Mae: Augggh! Tiny! I confess! I knew the Science Sta$on was dangerous!-‐-‐oooh, a ghost. That is so cool. Seriously, I wouldn't touch the Science Sta$on again if you paid me. The thing's a deathtrap-‐-‐fine if you want someone to die, and fine to collect, but not to use.
Ahah! A Roman at the family toy store! Cave canem and caveat emptor! Looking closer, it's Drusus Nero, a nice Family Sim. Hmmmm. Will he buy some toys?
Looks like it! The business is doing a bit be5er now that Remington doesn't bother to call in the employees very o`en. Up to level four and coun$ng. Of course, none of that helps if someone stupid-‐-‐Lisa Ramirez, not to name names-‐-‐decides to come in and play with her cat right in front of the register so the customers can't be checked out. On the other hand, she was stupid enough to come to the house uninvited and to buy both second genera$on cats for over 6,000, so we're not complaining. Wonder how Checo liked that.
Yet another birthday, and I've wangled an invite. That's Joe, Tiny's twin, in the background.
Sunny here looks as though she's about to burst into a medley of show tunes.
Remember, sweetheart, it's "Remington." Rem-‐ing-‐ton.
Oh, go ahead, buy two more cakes. Let's grow Delighdul and Moonbeam up too.
Moonbeam: Voooo Gerbits!
One blond Popularity Sim comin' right up! LTW-‐-‐have twenty simultaneous Pet best friends. Enough with the Pet wants, people.
And Delighdul rolls. . . Romance. Celebrity Chef. Possible. Moonbeam: All right, sis! We're gonna tear this place apart! They're right-‐-‐there's never been a Romance or a Popularity Goodytwoshoes before. Can you be a Goodytwoshoes and s$ll be a Romance Sim? Don't tell Delighdul about the no WooHoo rule yet. Let her enjoy being a teenager for a while.
And with eight count em eight kids, Remington rolls the want for ten. Houston to Mission Control-‐-‐ten kids is a go. I repeat, a go. Rolling! Daisie Mae: Can't he have them for a change? Hey, I'm just happy that we have four girls now. Plenty to choose from.
Remington: Shake, Sweetheart! I couldn't give up either Sweetheart or Sugarcane. They're both too cute and everybody rolls wants for them. So they're both being trained as the next Petacy heir. Sugarcane was fired because of a bad chance card and was in the red for a while. I had to wake up Remington to go play with the cat so he wouldn't run away from home. By the way-‐-‐cats with jobs; what kind of sicko came up with that idea?
Back at Maison Bu5ers, a party is in progress, strictly to make Flavius happy. SimMe doesn't like par$es and as a player I despise them. But two bolt chemistry makes it a piece of cake to get Remington over there and to manipulate him into singing karaoke $ll he drops. I hope he's not having a midlife crisis.
Flavius: So, Remington, I've been on one date, how about you? Remington: Hmmm. Yeah, I think so. Maybe-‐-‐um, two? Twenty years ago? This was sad enough that I tweaked Remington and Daisie Mae's turnons. They're up to three bolt chemistry from one and now they're chasing each other around the house telling each other dirty jokes. Second honeymoon, I guess-‐-‐they didn't have much of a first one.
Hey, Flavius, enjoy your party? Flavius: Yeah! This is so way be5er than ancient Rome! He is doing pre5y well here. I'd swear that he brought over his own bizarre nega$ve charisma and the dog-‐eat-‐dog stuff from Blite's Legacy. So far he's autonymously-‐-‐ -‐-‐ jumped my simself (who seemed to like it) -‐-‐went to say "what's this?" about the same lamppost all the Patricians are hung up on -‐-‐stolen my poor nice Legacy spare's Lobster Thermidor. Twice. Hey Flavius, just because everyone's be5er behaved here doesn't mean you can be a bully!
Sunny, I'm afraid things are too busy and chao$c for a party. Please grow up now. Sunny: OK.
You too, Wolf Gal. Wolf Gal: What kind of name is that? Like the other names so far, mostly from the comic strip Li'l Abner. Hey, it works. Your Dad is addicted to pork chops, just like the hero. In fact, he set fire to the kitchen with them. Twice.
Oh, my gosh, honey, run! Ralph's on his way to college! Having go5en to eight or be5er on most of his skills and tryed for alien abduc$on for more than a week, it's about $me. Ralph and his brother Earthquake are going to build a Greek House from scratch, or maybe they'll wait for the girls; because it looks as though we've got enough girl Goodytwoshoes for a whole sorority.
Whatcha wri$n', Daisie Mae? My magnum opus. It's a novel about a young and brilliant woman who marries her maid and has to put aside many of her dreams in order to raise the ten kids he wants to have. The maid becomes a superhero cop, but a cop is s$ll a cop. Then, well into the marriage, they rediscover passion-‐-‐something they've never really known with each other. Autobiographical? Yes-‐-‐that and inspira$onal. I want women the world over to know that you can breathe passion back into a lukewarm marriage. The frilly maid uniform helps. On him, I mean. Whatever keeps you pla$num, Daisie Mae.
Well, it was a bestseller! Congrats!
Moonbeam: Don't listen to Mom, Sunny. Life's not about skilling $ll you fall over. It's all about having lots and lots of friends! Especially pet friends! Sunny: Wow, really? Look at you. You look like Barbie n' Stacy and you live in a house that looks as though it were designed by Waylon Smithers. I'd say yes.
Remington: Whoo! Ten kids! All riiight! Li5le Grace and Charity are born and the family is so excited to see them that Remington, the babies, and Daisie Mae are trapped in a corner of the room!
Daisie Mae: Yes. Ten kids. Are you sa$sfied now, you sadist?
Yes. And soon it will be college for all of them. You'll want all your daughters to have an educa$on, right? So there's a lot of skilling ahead of us. Meanwhile, can Remington get the business up a few notches? Can he earn that toymaker's badge? How are Hopeful and her ex-‐vampire husband doing? Is my Simself really Squeaky Clean? The answers, at least some of them, in a new Squeaky Clean Legacy!