Zargon, Week 17Although Voldemort has been collecting space rocks for the family museum, he also has to have a complete collection to satisfy the requirements for his aspiration. Since he couldn't count on getting four different kinds of space rock, he's also been working on frogs. And while out collecting, he found himself in Sylvan Glade.
Voldemort called up Lyrica so she could come and see the place.
"Isn't this fantastic?" he enthused. "It reminds me a lot of the planet where I won the race against Dog Girl, only it's pinker."
"I find it hard to believe that you won a race against anyone, let alone someone named Dog Girl," Lyrica said sceptically.
"Well, I did," said Voldemort. "Here's the picture I took of her spaceship."
Lyrica wasn't convinced. "All I see is a piece of sheet metal. I gotta go."
Voldemort was disappointed, but he wasn't about to give up. The next day he sent Lyrica a happy text, and she suggested they meet at the coffeehouse. "I've got a present for you," he said. "It's a sonic screwdriver really handy if you're traveling around the space-time continuum."
"Uh, thanks," said Lyrica. "Look at the time I gotta go."
Now Voldemort felt depressed. "I don't understand what I'm doing wrong," he told his dad. "I've told her all about my adventures in space, but Lyrica doesn't seem impressed at all."
Coleman laughed. "I've found that people not just women generally prefer being complimented to being impressed. Try complimenting her on her grades instead of bragging about yours."
Meanwhile, Braylon has been alleviating the tedium of high school by bringing home various objects. Voldemort called him on it one afternoon. "Since when did you become a Justin fan?" he asked.
Braylon shrugged. "Some girl had it hanging in her locker."
"And she gave it to you?"
"Welll...You're not going to tell, are you?"
"No," said Voldemort, "but I think you should."
"Yeah, but Mom will go ballistic when she finds out."
"There is that," said Voldemort.
A few days (and posters) later, Coleman was hanging out in the boys' room when he noticed the new decorations on the wall. "Where did these come from?" he asked. "Malfoy, do you know?"
"You'd better ask Braylon," said Malf.
"Hey, you guys promised not to tell," said Braylon.
"Voldemort did, I didn't," said Malf. "Just because we're twins doesn't mean we're the same person."
"I can't help it if I'm a kleptomaniac," Braylon groused.
"Granted," said Coleman, "but you must see that it could be very embarrassing for your mother if you stole something big. I'm afraid you're grounded until you move into a place of your own. And we do have to discuss it with her."
Eris was not happy. "I suppose we should be grateful you haven't taken anything worth more than a thousand simoleons. I would have to send you to jail then."
"Mom!" Braylon protested.
"Well, if I thought it would do any good, I would send you a night in jail certainly straightened out my act. But since you're a kleptomaniac, you're not going to change. Your father has the right idea we'll just keep you at home and hope that you don't get caught at school."
"I won't get caught," said Braylon. "I'm actually pretty good."
"That's not something to boast about," Coleman and Eris said simultaneously.
One night Eris was summoned to meet with the Zargon commander.
"You seem to be making progress rather slowly," the commander observed.
"I've finished upgrading the rocket ship," protested Eris, "and I just need one more promotion."
"And I understand that your son is getting romantically involved with an Oirat?"
"Only because there aren't any more suitable women around."
"Relax," said the commander. "The Oirat commander and I have discussed the matter and decided that we can negotiate a truce. Your son can marry this Oirat, and in exchange, the Oirats will let us have full domination over the next Sim world. I'm sure you'll agree that's a pretty sweet deal."
Eris wasn't sure whether she was relieved or worried. Coleman had told her about Voldemort's romantic woes. Now it appeared that the fate of the Galaxy depended on whether he could get Lyrica to marry him.
Eris was happy when she did get her promotion the next day Chief of Police, finally.
Now all the pressure was on Voldemort. The calendar next to his computer reminded him how little time was left before he would become a young adult.
Playing games was supposed to help him relax, and it did a little. But no matter how many times he hit a virtual ball out of the virtual park, it seemed that he couldn't make much progress on his gaming skill.
At least he did have his two portraits and a collection of space rocks something that he'd thought would take forever.
He dropped them off at the family museum and set about making friends with his grandmother.
"I heard from the Zargon commander," said Aniara. "I guess if it ends the war in our favor, it's okay for you to marry that girl. But don't go showing her our special handshake. It's for Zargons only."
The day of Voldemort's and Malf's birthday finally arrived. They celebrated early in the morning so they wouldn't have to go to school.
In the afternoon, Voldemort invited Lyrica over for cake, and she became a young adult, too.
Eris sat down to have a talk with her. "You do realize that marrying Voldemort will bring an end to the centuries-old war between our people, don't you?"
"But I'm not sure I want to marry Voldemort," Lyrica complained. "I know he's a genius and all, but really, he can be pretty conceited sometimes."
Eris was furious. A delicate truce had finally been worked out favoring the Zargons, of course, but that was the way it should be and this, this teeny-bopper was going to wreck everything because she thought Voldemort was conceited. Eris had no choice she performed the rarely seen Zargonian mind zap.
"Will. Marry. Voldemort," Lyrica intoned.
After having cake, they settled down to watch a sci-fi comedy and laugh at the strange notions that Sims had about people from other planets.
The next morning, Coleman got his final notice from the Grim Reaper.
"I've got to go to work," said Eris, "but I wanted to take this moment to tell you that living with you has been the most joyful time of my life. And don't you dare die until I get home this afternoon."
Coleman waited as long as he could, but the Grim Reaper wouldn't give him any more time. "You're already 275," he said. "That's 13 score and fifteen, way, way above average."
Coleman tried to say that he understood, but he couldn't make his mouth work. Eris, Braylon, and Malf all rushed into the room to say good-bye. Voldemort was off collecting frogs.
R.I.P. Coleman. You were a great dynasty spouse a good painter, and a calming influence on your three sons. You'll be missed.
