Intro:
Grim: You look ridiculous. I said wear a disguise, not a costume.
Fairy: Oh... I thought you said costume. Well, you should be more specific when giving out directions. Anyway, what is this? A furtive, clandestine meeting or something?
Grim:
I need a favor.Fairy: Uh huh, what do you take me for? No, your favors always end badly. You should ask Carl.
Grim: No. No one important can know about this.
Grim: No, I meant no one super special can know about this.
Fairy: Keep diggin'.
Grim: *Sigh* I'm being serious. I can't let anyone who is anyone in on this.
Fairy: Oh, way to talk me into something I don’t even wanna do.
Grim: Look Playalot, I'm desperate.
Playalot: How desperate?
Grim: Desperate desperate. If I wasn't so utterly desperate I wouldn't even be here.
Playalot: Look Grim, you’ve insulted me three times now. I’m really not feeling this.
Grim: What if I told you I know an ‘insider’ in EA’s head office who knows just how to ‘tap’ into all the really big info?
Playalot: Ooooo, ok, now you’ve got me interested. Wow... insider info... sheesh! I'd give my right arm for that!
Grim: *Smirk* Knew it. Well, you do your end of the deal and I’ll personally ‘hook ya up’.
Playalot: K. So what do I have to do? Nothing illegal though Grim.
Grim: Look after this sim for me.
Playalot: What's so special about him.
Grim: Nothing.
Playalot: Yeah, right. Come on Grim, spill.
Grim: Play, he's my son.
Playalot: Your... your ... son?
Playalot: Wuuuuuut? Wait, how is that even possible?
Grim: Well, there’s the birds and some bees, a cupid’s drink and a closet...
Playlot: Awww gross.Yuk. TMI... you know what I mean.
Grim: I met someone special. What can I say.
Playalot: Not too much more if you don't mind. Ewww... still having visuals. Ergh.
Grim: Umm... It was an interdimensional timey wimey spacey thingy. Complicated. But look, if the International United Reapers Association find out they’ll reap him... and me.
Playalot: You can be reaped??
Grim: Yep, but that's not important right now. Will you do it?
Playalot: So all I have to do is look after him, teach him some skills an stuff? Right?
Grim: Yep. Whaddya say?
Playalot: OK.. sure, I can do that for you at least.
Grim: Shake to seal the deal.
Playalot: Huh, well least I didn’t need to sign my name in blood.
Grim: Ewww, gross, why would you want to even do that. *shudder* Anyway, it’s a done deal now. So don’t break my trust or I’ll be back for your soul for all eternity.
Playalot: K. See, that’s what I meant...I knew it! There’s always that hidden soul clause.
Grim: Well, ‘bout the rules, it’s all written down here. Whatever you do, don’t break any of the rules or it’s ‘game over’. And don’t tell any one. Not even my son, he doesn’t know how special he is.
Playalot: K... hmmm Alessandro Rastelli. Hmm, nice name.
Playalot: Wait! There’s over 70 pages to read... and it says here 8 generations!!