@Joria LOL! Sadly, no youth potions for The Goopster. Much as I love him, I'm not willing to tank the entire dynasty just to keep him around. He lives on in my library, though. I think you can only cloudgaze with one person at a time. Wendell is cloudgazing with one of the Bjergsens and Karla is cloudgazing with the other one, and they just happened to lie down in that nice straight line for me. Lucky! Hope you had a lovely Thanksgiving! Apple pie is the best!
@oshizu Yeah, man. Backup is needed. I feel like sims have gotten much more protective of their sinks lately. Otto is Childish, so the toys around the house do help him get in a playful mood, but they are not scattered about on purpose. My sims unfortunately take after their watcher in terms of tidiness.
Chapter 59: There's Nothing Funny About HysteriaOtto: Tada! Time to perform until everybody laughs themselves into a coma! Laugh, you little minions! Laugh until your throats bleed!
Otto: Did I ever tell you about the times I worked as a barber, manicurist, museum docent, lawyer, politician, or yoga instructor? NO? Well, get ready!
Otto: Hi there! Welcome to the Spiffendale household! No hysteria scares in approximately five minutes! At the Spiffendale household, we care about your cardiac health, so we offer a variety of calming down methods, including mirrors in every room!
Otto: So, as I was saying . .. you okay, Dad? You're glowing a little pink, and you have a hint of hysteria around your eyes. Do you want to go take a nap?
Goopy: I’m good for the mo’.
Otto: Okay, but I’m about to do the bit about the Sixam Pit Beast, and I know how much you love that.
Goopy: *chuckles* Oh yeah. I don’t know why people getting devoured half-alive tickles my funny bone so much, but there you are.
Austen: It’s always the quiet ones.
Pernille: Ahh. A nice book and a quiet bench. No need to head home just yet. Don’t get me wrong, I love my needy husband and exhaustingly hilarious son, but sometimes a girl just needs a minute or two to herself.
Karla: Huh. That’s funny. I really thought I wanted lobster thermidor. I even got it out of the fridge and set it there on the computer keyboard to munch on while I browsed art references, but suddenly, now that I’m here, all I can think of is a nice low-calorie fish taco.
Otto: Get it? The herd shot round the world! Why do you always make that face when I tell you a joke?
Karla: This is my amused face.
Otto: You swear you’re amused? You look kind of like you’re dying inside and trying really hard to cover it up.
Karla: Nope. Super amused. Great joke.
Otto: Oh, good! Because I’ve got lots more!
Otto: So hey, did you know that Lobster Thermidor is, like, the most highly caloric food you could possibly eat? It’s like, second only to Weight of the World ice cream.
Karla: Oh, no! My amazing figure! My future as a pampered and cherished trophy wife!
Karla: Oh, my gosh. That was a joke, wasn’t it? Oh, you really got me good that time. Wow.
Otto: I know! It was great, wasn’t it? Not a joke, though, incidentally. If you’re going to eat that stuff you might as well just drink an Insta-Large right now.
Otto: You know, in all honesty, I’m still going to like you if you eat lobster thermidor all day and get enormously fat and stuff. I just like you.
Karla: Please. Of course you do. I’m gorgeous and I’m perfect, and I’m so not getting fat. Plus, I’m already in the house, so you couldn’t do anything about it even if you didn’t like me.
Otto: No. For real. I just . . . I like you. I’m excited to age up and get married to you. I don’t mind that you don’t really laugh at my jokes and that you’re sort of mean to me. I think you’re cool.
Karla: You’re a moron.
Otto: *shrugs* You have a stupid face.
Karla: *blushes* Okay, I like you too. Now shut up and go max your skills.
Ullal: Well, hello there, my little pumpkin spice muffin! It’s me! Your old Dad!
Karla: Oh, hey there “Dad.” Nice of you to make an appearance in my life now that you’re not actually alive, anymore.
Ullal: Precious angel, you seem upset. Is anything the matter?
Karla: No . . I just . . . Otto was just really nice to me and . . . I hate it because . . .I liked it. And I want him to like me, like, not just be obsessed with me because I’m pretty and, and . . .that makes me sad.
Ullal: Sweetheart, of course he likes you. You are the light of his life, just as you are the light of mine. You are a wonder.
Karla: Mom hated me.
Ullal: My darling, your mother is a terrible person. It’s time you knew this. I cannot regret my relationship with her, because it resulted in your birth, but she is person who never should be around children. You cannot blame yourself for this.
Karla: Okay. I guess. Whatever.
Ullal: That’s my girl!
Arianna: Okay, we all get a pass this time because the notice came in the middle of the night. We’re just going to call this a pajama party.
Karla: Crap. Now I miss my Dad. Come back soon, Daddy.
Pernille: Hiyeeee! Hey girl, what’s up? Oh, my gosh we really need to get together soon and do our nails and eat brunch and stuff! Good friends stuff! ‘Cause we’re still good friends, right? OkayCoolBye.
Morris: I remember when I had friends.
Otto: This isn’t weird for you? Helping your teenage boyfriend with his homework?
Karla: Nah. I want to help. Besides, I don’t want you to be stupid. Hey, can we go to the museum after this? I need to look at art.
Otto: Sure thing, I’ve been wanting to do a little art shopping.
Karla: It’s a museum, not a store.
Otto: For Otto Spiffendale, there is no difference.
Otto: So I’ll just nonchalantly read this book over here. Oh, gosh. A big empty space just appeared on the wall. That’s odd. Someone should talk to the curator.
Karla: All right, girls. Observe and appreciate. Culture is important, and if you want to be my friends, you’d better acquire some.
Otto: Ugh. Boring. Karla, can we go home now?
Rainn: Otto, I thought you were the club leader.
Otto: I mean, yeah, in name, but Karla is clearly the one in charge here.
Karla: Clearly. Good boy.
Rainn: Gosh, Mr. Spiffendale, you’re really working that towel.
Wendell: Can’t keep an old man down, young lady!
Otto: Hey there! It’s Eduardo! Does everybody know Eduardo? Of course you do! Unless you were randomly generated within the last five seconds, he’s your grandfather! No, but seriously, this guy has so many kids he’s been made an honorary rabbit. He’s so prolific at producing offspring that aliens are abandoning their current pollinating plans and focusing fully on trying to resurrect him for use in dominating the universe.
Eduardo: Haha! You totally hit the nail on the head! This guy. He’s got my number.
Mallory: Oops! Sorry, honey. Didn’t mean to barge in on you.
Otto: Oh, no. It’s cool. I just had another hysteria episode so I was calming down.
Mallory: Oh! Gosh! That’s too bad. Oh, well. I’ll go reset the counter.
Otto: Yup. Bummer. I think we made it almost 48 hours this time.
Mallory: Ooof. I’ll be glad when your career is maxed.
J: Hey! Morris! Making ambrosia? Hey, listen, the other ghosts and I were talking, and we love your fish tacos, but we were thinking it might be nice to shake things up a bit, maybe have like some grilled cheese or something? I know it’s not up to your usual culinary level, but comfort food is definitely hot right now.
Morris: Dad, I love you, but I am not even going to dignify that with a response.
Angel: Hey, there sir!
Morris: I’m sorry, and you are . . .?
Angel: I’m Angel! Otto’s friend!
Morris: And you’re interrupting me because . . . ?
Angel: Look, some ghost guy told me he’d give me 20 simoleons to ask you to make a grilled cheese sandwich. I just . . .I thought . . .
Morris: Why don’t you go have a seat?
Angel: Okay.
Morris: Oh, are you still here?
Angel: You told me to have a seat.
Morris: I meant in your own kitchen, in your own house. Goodbye now.