A Rather Fabricated ChildhoodAll right, everybody! Gather 'round the grandkids, because we are finally BACK with another chapter!
The triplets toddled throughout their toddlerhood terrifically. They all successfully learned to walk, talk, and use a washroom, and Rammstein’s picture and ice sculpture were completed. All too soon, as they were doing whatever it is toddlers do (the close-enough-to-one I'm hanging around with lately likes to growl and get frustrated that she can't walk yet. She's awesome), they aged up to children who could spend time doing whatever the heck it is children do when I’m not yelling at them to get off my lawn, find the remote, or get me a Coke. Rammstein got the Virtuoso trait,
Das Auto got Vehicle Enthusiast (which is such a shame, because he’s liable to never see a car in his life),
and Nikolai got Angler.
Happy Birthday, boys. I give Nikolai credit for aging up in one of the worst set of jammies I’ve ever seen. He wins a bedtime story.
Arlo: “So Hansel and Gretel continued to mow down on Baba Yaga’s nice gingerbread house, despite the fact that bugs and small animals had probably crawled all over it, it was most likely rained on numerous times, and Baba Yaga still had a hefty sum of mortgage to pay on it, and the repairs would cost her dearly.”
Nikolai: “Baba Yaga’s gingerbread house must have been totally boss with the chicken feet sticking out of it. Would the gingerbread house taste chicken-y, Dad? You’d think that would be a major tip-off.”
Arlo: “Yeah, it would be. But these children were so hungry, they didn’t care. It was kind of a bum situation for everybody.”
Nikolai: “Does this family know any
happy fairy tales? And how come in all my storybooks, the word ‘goat’ is crossed out and replaced with ‘DIE! DIE! DIE!’?”
Since the next day was their first day of school, the triplets decided to dress as sharply as they knew how. “Knew how,” being the operative word here.
I like to think that Nikolai really did put his all into it, and full-heartedly believes that a rabbit that taught itself to skateboard on its hind legs really is the sharpest thing ever.
They boarded the bus with great enthusiasm, eager to have their minds enriched with knowledge and information. Maybe they’d make some friends while they were there. Either way, they were sure they’d have a wonderful time, despite the bus driver almost having a heart attack when he saw them climb in.
Bus Driver: “OH MY GOODNESS! Oops, er, I mean . . . good morning, boys! Excited for school? *thinking* Don’t make eye contact,
don’t make eye contact!”
Das Auto: “Hey, Mr. Bus Driver? Why are you so sweaty, Mr. Bus Driver? Mr. Bus Driver, why are you so twitchy-looking? Mr. Bus Driver? Mr. Bus Driver? Mr. Bus Driver?”
And now for some lovingly taken screenshots of the triplets coming home from school and – Oh, I don’t have any screenshots of that? Well, I’m sure we have some lovely screenshots where they all hang around with each other and – What, none of those either.
Well, do we have . . . ?
Well, what about . . . ?
So, I have three screenshots of their childhood? And there’s nothing but birthdays as far as the eye can see? *sigh* Well, there’s only one thing to do now. Well, technically, there were two, but I forgot that MS Paint drawings are always an option.
All right, boys, I fired up a past save, saved you to the bin, realized that it turns out that Rammstein is on the rainbow slider after all (he’s on the far left side that makes you, “sunburn pink”), aged your happy selves down, and gave you all a second childhood. Go forth and frolic.
Rammstein: “Wo bin Ich?! Wo ist Morgenstern?!”
Das Auto: “I don’t know. I just suddenly feel the need to strike poses and be photogenic . . . ish.”
Nikolai: “Hey, is that a playground?”
Das Auto: “You can’t go over the bar, Rammstein! It’s physically impossible!”
Rammstein: “Sagst du!”
Nikolai: *plays quietly in the sand like a good little spare*
Rammstein: “Schau! Ich werde es dir zeigen! Ich werde dich selbst umwerfen!”
Das Auto: “I don’t think this is such a good idea . . . ”
Rammstein: “Sei nicht so ein Baby! Müsstest du nicht der Mutige sein?"
Das Auto: “There’s a big difference between brave and stupid, y’know!”
Although this childhood romp is a re-enactment for the sake of having pictures to show, Rammstein really did play in the sandbox as a small child. It gave me a heart attack, and I started shouting such things as, “RAMMSTEIN, WHAT THE HECK ARE YOU DOING?! GET OUT OF THE SANDBOX BEFORE YOU SCREW EVERYTHING UP WITH YOUR CRAZY NEED TO MAKE STUFF! GET OUT! GET OUT! GETOUTGETOUTGETOUTGET-”
But I realized later on that the guitar skill is tricky as all get out to supermax (the decision to let him be anything he wanted to be despite his name was completely and utterly dashed fairly quickly), and the opps are incredibly iffy.
So never mind, Rammstein. Enjoy practicing for your sculpting supermax.
Oh, and the ice cream truck finally came back. I thought it was gone forever since that one time Drizzelda ran out at three in the morning in her underwear shouting incomprehensible excitable madness (“ARGABLARBAGGBA! ICE CREAM! ARGARBLARGALARG! TAKE MY MONEY!”), and was fairly certain the guy was scared off for good. It’s coming back wasn’t a permanent change, unfortunately. D.A. and Nikolai got their ice cream fine, but as soon as the probably-new guy laid eyes on Rammstein, he took off like a shot. He really is the greatest ever outcome for heir.
Speaking of Drizzelda, she was inside making use out of a newly purchased television set.
Arlo: *offscreen* “What’s with the new tv, Zel?”
Drizzelda: “Darleena said something about a cousin of mine being on this
Bachelorette show. I’ve been watching it since it started, but I don’t see anyone! Do you think she meant the green one?”
Agnes: “What, that troll guy?”
Drizzelda: “Talus? No, not him! He looks NOTHING like me! I meant the other green one! ‘Baby Face’ Something-Or-Other.”
Darleena: “EVERETTE?! Sweet Mother of Baby Carl Metro Pam, NO! Just . . . how?! WHY?!
NO!”
So, thoroughly disappointed in television for the first and last time that day, Drizzelda did what any sane, sensible person would do.
If the sane, sensible person was actually straight-up cuckoobananas, that is.
It wasn’t all fun and games, though. The boys still had to soldier on through their homework like the countless children before them, regardless of how loudly the teacher screamed when she saw them.
Rammstein: “Das Auto, was reimt sich auf Biest?”
Das Auto: “What are you talking about? This is our geometry homework!”
Rammstein: “Hausaufgaben?! Ich dachte das wäre Schmierpapier! Wie auch immer, ich werde es weiterhin so benutzen wie ich es will.”
Das Auto: “Darleena would be proud.”
Rammstein: *trance-like* “
Darleena ist toll. Darleena ist toll.”
Das Auto: “Are you okay?”
Rammstein: “Entschuldigung. Gewohnheit.” *turning back to paper* “Tier . . . Tier . . .”
Then Arlo aged up to Adult out by the pond across the house. You can’t see it, but Nikolai’s with him.
As you can see, he has once again made a rather amusing face. Here’s a list of all the possible things that could have ran through his mind to have him make that face:
1. “Wow, I have moved on from Young Adult to just regular, old, boring Adult. Huh.”
2. Just reveling on how he’s so lucky to be living with Drizzelda with his three boys and how much it’s gonna suck when he eventually drops.
3. Darleena figured out he was missing for more than five minutes and screamed, “MAN SERVANT! WHERE ARE YOU?! I CAN’T FIND THE REMOTE (OR THE TELEVISION EITHER, FOR SOME REASON) AND I REFUSE TO STAND UP!”
3. He just realized that he left the stove on.
4. Trick question. His face has always been stuck that way, and it means absolutely nothing whatsoever.
Then it was Drizzelda’s Elder Birthday, known throughout the land as the day the option to bring more children into the world has presently escaped her, or even more transparently as, “Okay, guys, that’s it. No more Drizzarlo-boos. We’re done. Maybe when the Dynasty’s finished I’ll fix that, but for right now, that’s it.” (And it’s not like they didn’t want any more either. Arlo was constantly popping wishes for more kids every time I turned around. It broke my jet-black heart into itty-bitty pieces to right-click them.)
I know you can’t see it all that well, so I’ll tell you upright. She looks almost the
exact same. I don’t see any wrinkles on her, and she’s too chubby to lose much muscle mass. She’s just gray, and her nose is bigger (and when I dyed her hair back, I forgot what colour her eyebrow was, so that’s off). That’s it. Wiggedy-Wack
don’t crack, y’all.
The game took away her super-fun, young, whipper-snapper clothes, so we had to make do.
Still better than what Straight-Man Agnes ended up with. I love how with her top and skirt combo, it looks like Hello Kitty grew demonic green and yellow fangs and is out to go lay destruction to the land. My only regret is that we couldn’t stuff her back into her her bikini.
Then at some point in time, Darleena took a break from harassing Arlo and yelling at the neighbours and had her Adult birthday.
And to split up even more birthday pictures, Drizzelda bought her building and property, Hogan’s Deep-Fried Diner (renamed Drizzelda’s Deep-Fried Diner) and Crystal Springs (renamed Drizzelda Springs). Here’s Drizzelda Springs post-build-up.
It’s a dump, but it works.
Then it was time for the Triplets’ birthdays. Arlo was present for all of them.
Except for Nikolai's. Thankfully, he found solace in the blender.
Did they not turn out absolutely brilliant? Go ahead, look at me and tell me they didn’t. Man, I love these kids.
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Special Thanks to Maisie for translating Rammstein's dialogue into German for me. Translations are (in order):
"Where am I?! Where is Morgenstern?!"
"Says you!"
"Look! I'll show you! I'll flip you over myself!"
"Quit being such a baby! Aren't you supposed to be the brave one?!"
"Das Auto, what rhymes with Beast?"
"Homework?! I thought it was scribble paper! Whatever, I'm still going to use it for whatever I want." "Animal . . . Animal . . . "
"Darleena is great. Darleena is great."
"Sorry. Habit."
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