The Seven Dudley Sims - Updated October 25

[Oz]

Author's Note: Judging from the initial post and the concept, this may seem like a bit of a dark concept. Don't worry--it's not going to be. Tongue is planted very firmly in cheek here. 

On the Number 666 bus straight out of the mean streets of Tartarus, Beelzebub Deadly read yesterday's edition of the Sunset Valley Picayune, one arm draped over his thoroughly evil knee. The mouth-breathers, it seemed, had made significant progress in the study of life and death--so much so, it seemed, that the "culinary arts" may now be described as the "culinary dark arts." The latest research came from Dr. Julius Simmons, whose Ph.D. thesis on the theoretical applications of food consumption on the search for longevity revolutionized the field. Dr. Simmons's newest theory was that the Death Fish that swam in the pond of Pleasant Rest Graveyard could be combined in proper measure with an as-yet-undiscovered "Life Fruit" to create a dish that could slow down one's own biological clock... perhaps indefinitely.

"The Theory of Ambrosia," he called it.

Beelzebub smiled, even as the bus slowed to a halt--a traffic jam on the Charon Bridge high above the River Styx. It was for this theory that Beelzebub had gambled with his dark masters, demanding that they grant him passage to the mortal world. If he could create seven offspring--sprung from his own seed--to embody the most vile aspects of human vice, then a new age of darkness could envelop the world.

But to see the Seven Deadly Sims reach their full potential, he would need time. The constraints of mortality--time, fire, swimming pools surrounded by walls--called for a solution. Ambrosia--if it was real--was the answer.

It would not be long now. He had already arranged a meeting with Sunset Valley's finest real estate agent. He had thousands of Simoleons in his pocket. He would lay down roots... and he would bring about an age of darkness.

---

Two hours later, Beelzebub sat in front of the desk of a sweaty, balding man with a cigar in his mouth--Sunset Valley's premier real estate agent, Jim Faust.

"So... you're Bob, eh?" Faust said, poring over the papers in his hand.

"Beelzebub, actually," he corrected. "Beelzebub Deadly."

Faust wiped his forehead with his sleeve. The new guy was impressive, with a Herculean physique, pointed ears, and deep red skin. But the papers didn't lie. "Says here your name's Bob Dudley."

"Then they're wrong," Beelzebub said. "You'll have to correct them."

Here Faust snorted and chuckled. "Out of my hands, pal!" he said. "From the perspective of Sunset Valley, your name's Bob Dudley. I'd get down to City Hall and get it changed if it's that big a deal."

"Bob" grumbled. He made a note that Jim Faust would be the first to be punished when the darkness covered the land. "It's fine. Now tell me, what do you have to offer me in terms of real estate? I require something nice. I trust that you can do a more competent job at real estate than you can at nomenclature, hmmm?" He leaned back in his chair and smirked.

Faust clucked his tongue, tugging at his tie. Then, all at once, his eyes lit up. "I have a place," he said. "Finest property in town. Gorgeous vista, spectacular view, in the most upscale neighborhood in Sunset Valley. And the best part? Every single room in the house is furnished with the finest imported furniture in the city. And it's a steal, my friend."

"Mr. Dudley" didn't have to think twice before extending a hand. "Now you're speaking my language."

---

The newly christened Bob Dudley sneered at the place. The view was spectacular. The neighborhood was upscale. The vista was indeed gorgeous.

But there was no house. No rooms. And, therefore, no imported furniture.

"You'll pay for this, Faust..." he growled. "Oh, you will pay..."

---

Meet the Dudleys!

Bob Dudley (Generation 1)
Traits: Evil, Natural Cook, Green Thumb, Angler, Friendly
Lifetime Wish: The Culinary Librarian

---

On The Challenge:

The Seven Dudley Sims--one for each generation--will all be inspired by the Seven Deadly Sins (though not necessarily in this order): Wrath, Sloth, Gluttony, Greed, Pride, Envy, and... let's say Desire for the sake of the PG rating. Each Dudley will be tied into a sin in some way, whether it be appearance, goals, or traits. All Dudleys who will become immortal, however, must be Evil, and Evil must be the first trait they pick up.

Not all posts in this story will be as detailed as this one; I just felt it was worth having some fun right off the bat.

Thanks for reading; hope you enjoy!

Up Next: Minions!

[Gwendy]

*slow clap* You are an amazing and beautiful person. I can't wait for more.

[naniminna]

I love how your sim looks like a red night elf from World of Warcraft.

[RainBeau]

More updates, and soon! I love a theme. Not to spoil it, but which sin is "Bob"? He doesn't seem to have any of the traits I would associate with the Seven Deadly Sins. Also, what is going to be your eighth generation? You don't have to say if it will spoil the story, I'm just curious.

[TheTripWasInfraGreen]

Oh my goodness, this has to be the best theme for a dynasty ever. Bob is a pretty handsome devil too; pun absolutely intended.

[Katluvr]

*standing ovation*

I love how creative your beginning is - this looks to be a great story and I'll be anxiously waiting for the next update!

I love how your sim looks like a red night elf from World of Warcraft.

I thought the same thing. 

[Oz]

More updates, and soon! I love a theme. Not to spoil it, but which sin is "Bob"? He doesn't seem to have any of the traits I would associate with the Seven Deadly Sins. Also, what is going to be your eighth generation? You don't have to say if it will spoil the story, I'm just curious.

Oh, Bob isn't any of them; he's the master of evil hisowndarnself. The seven other immortals will all embody a sin.

The plan, right now, is for the 8th generation to be Pride, embodied by ending on the Charisma skill and Leader of the Free World LTW. This is, of course, the only immortal who won't end up retiring.

Update should come later tonight; glad you all are enjoying it so far.

[RainBeau]

Ohhhhh ahahaha. That makes sense.

[Oz]

Author's Note: I don't know what kind of pace people seek to set with these; in reading over other people's updates, I'm seeing a lot of detail about a lot of different things. I'm not going to be afraid to skip around a lot since I'm not much interested in finding new and exciting ways to say "and then he used the WooHoo interaction with the shower again after being promoted to Spice Runner." I've got a job and kids, darn it! So if I don't mention it, assume it's happening in the background.

Chapter 1
Minions of Darkness

If the secret to immortality lay in Sunset Valley, then Bob would have to first learn to cook it. A knowledge of the theoretical underpinnings of Cooking would be necessary; with time, of course, Bob would move on to outright mastery.

"It's almost quaint," he mused as he entered the library. "To think that the undoing of the human race could happen through their dining. Their puny little salad forks will be their undoing!"



"Now... which one is the salad fork again?"

As Bob learned the basics of Cooking, the hoi paloi filed in around him, sickening sacks of meat eager to read on. They mused about murders in Pleasantville and pondered the location of Bella, all the while blissfully unaware that their doom was currently brushing up on the proper use of rosemary.

One of the humans looked particularly strange to Bob. Of course, he had to ask.



"Excuse me, Miss, but are you aware that a large object is growing from your abdomen?"

The woman laughed. "Oh, this old thing? That's just my baby belly, sweetie! Why, I'm 'bout ready to pop!"

"I see," Bob said, stroking his malevolent goatee. "And when the child bursts forth, it will indeed render you 'popped' open, thus delivering a mortal wound?"

"It'll sure feel that way!" she laughed. "But hey, enough of that. Name's Officer Justine Keaton, and I work down at the local precinct. You must be new in town 'cause I ain't given you a ticket yet! Where you from, hon?"

"...down south," he muttered. "Listen, Justine, I'm a fan of law enforcement--a big fan, in fact--and I was wondering if you'd like to spend a few days living at my house, observing the various security measures, making absolutely certain that no thieves can break in?"

She didn't know what to say. He was strange. But at the same time, he had a terrifying charm about him. And those abs. She could cut diamonds on those things.

Before she could say "hey wait a minute did you just sell my car to buy this house," Justine found herself moving in with the Prince of Darkness himself.



"It's... quaint," she said.

"I call it My Own Little Slice of Everlasting Torment," Bob said, beaming.

"It's cramped."

"Oh, are you sore? Here, let me help you with that."



"Ooooh," she sighed. "Bob, that is... wow. Um. Well, it still doesn't feel like home." She ran his fingers across his bulging biceps, smiling. "We need a way to have some fun."

"Parcheesi?" Bob suggested.

"Eh..."



"Of course, sins of the flesh!" Bob said, smacking his forehead. "Wow, that is fun! I can see why you mortals are into that."

"...you can see why who are into that now?"

"Oh, uh, mortals, you know, like you and me," Bob laughed nervously. "Regular everyday folks with metabolic cycles and a propensity toward disease! Just like us!"

"...right," Justine said. "Well, I'm beat. Let's hit the hay."

And so the hay was hit. UNTIL.



"HNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNGH!" she screamed.

"What? What? Has the time come for the child to rip you asunder?" Bob yelled.

"HOSPITAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAL!" she roared.

And off she went. Bob lay back in bed, putting his hands behind his head as he leaned backward.

"Excellent," he said. "Soon she will return home, her body newly torn as the newborn destroys her like a mantis destroying her mate! Then the child will be mine, free to rear with my own dark powe--"

"Hey, I'm back!"

"WHAT!?"



"Bob, meet Toby! Toby, Bob! Oh, and this is my... other half, Marty."

The balding man in the flannel glared at the devil as he entered. "Any particular reason my wife was staying over here?" he asked.

"She's... a guest," Bob stammered, turning to Justine. "But you're alive? I thought you said--"

"Yeah, it hurt like you wouldn't believe, but whatcha gonna do? Anyway, let's get a crib for this lil' one and OH MY GOSH WHAT IS GOING ON OVER THERE."



"Oh, that?" Bob laughed. "Why, that striped human appears to be stealing every light fixture in the room. A fantastic example of greed made manifest in the mortal--"

"CALL THE POLICE!" Justine shrieked.

"Oh, yes, of course."



"We've got this one, Justine!" the cop announced. "You just go on home then."

Justine looked down at the baby in her arms. She turned to her husband, the balding middle-aged bucket of cellulite in the flannel. Then she turned to the smoldering red mound of muscle on the opposite side of the room, his pecs bulging beneath his open night shirt.

"Y'know what?" she said. "I think I'm gonna stick around here."

"WHAT!?" Marty roared. "WHY YOU LOUSY TWO-TIMING..."

"Yeah, no, get out," Bob said. "Take care, don't let the door hit ya where the dark lord split ya."

And so Marty headed back home, trailing tears all the way. Justine wiped a few away of her own. Bob merely grinned, baring his wolverine-like teeth to the moonlight.

"Oh, Bob..." she cooed. "I've... I've never felt this way before."

"You've never felt physically attracted to someone before?" Bob said.

"Not like this," she whispered. "Bob, all my life I've wanted to quit the force and devote myself to drawing the beautiful things in the world, and there's no one as beautiful as you. Let's spend the rest of our lives together and never look back."



"Very well, let us do exactly that," Bob said. "We'll spend the rest of your life together."

"What?"

"Oh, nothing. Nothing at all."

Up Next: In pursuit of the secrets of cooking!

[TheTripWasInfraGreen]

Justine as a dynasty spouse? I haven't seen that before, but why not? She's quite a stunner.

I just adore your writing style.

[Oz]

Justine as a dynasty spouse? I haven't seen that before, but why not? She's quite a stunner.

She was the first one to show up, and she has slave laboran adorable lil' bundle of joy in the oven. Bob is an opportunistic lord of chaos if nothing else.

I just adore your writing style.

Thanks!

[naniminna]

Lol! I love this story. I've laughed so many times. it's interesting to hear it from the "Devil's" point of view. I'm looking forward to more updates. Keep on writing man. Tell those kids of yours to go paint or play guitar or level up logic!

(Kidding, kidding! Kind of.)

Also:

The plan, right now, is for the 8th generation to be Pride, embodied by ending on the Charisma skill and Leader of the Free World LTW. This is, of course, the only immortal who won't end up retiring.

For some reason this kind of reminds me of Fullmetal Alchemist. The seven sins and "Father" grouping up to take over earth with alchemy. Interesting. I'm looking forward to seeing how this pans out. =)

[Audren]

What a creative story, Oz! Bob is quite a character.  I've never Justine as a Dynasty spouse, but it's a smart move! I wouldn't of thought of using baby labor. (That sounds distinctly more twisted than when I wrote it.  )

[Oz]

Author's Note: I should mention a few things. First of all, I'm very much "winging it" as far as neighborhood people go. I'm not a really die-hard fan, so I'm not familiar with all of the townspeople. So you're probably going to see a lot of opportunism more than strategy much of the time. Second of all, I should mention that I'm playing with all expansion packs except Diesel Stuff and Supernatural; the game chugs enough as it is, and I think zombies may break it. Nobody's asked, but I should clarify anyway. :p But I'm glad you guys are enjoying things so far, and I appreciate the feedback. Now on with the show!

Chapter 2
Setting the Table

"Fascinating," Bob mused. "The young humans are basically helpless, requiring nearly constant care, lest they unleash a high-pitched shrieking noise. I really should've read up on these things beforehand. Also, what's that smell?"

Despite the baby's pungent aroma, Bob was pleased to find that his marriage to Justine had caused her to have a useful Mid-Life Crisis. She abandoned her Good principles and became fully Evil, and she found a newfound appreciate for the arts as well.

Bob, meanwhile, threw himself into his new job. if he was to become the world's greatest cook, he had to surround himself with others like him. Off he went to Hogan's Deep-Fried Diner, where the secrets of culinary sorcery lay beneath piles of grease-soaked trays and freezer-burnt hamburger patties.



At work, Bob schmoozed with his fellow cooks even as he plotted what sauces they would best marinate in. At home, he threw himself into his studies, buying recipes from the bookstore that seemed enticing even as the cost of the theoretical Ambrosia recipe eluded him.



"Ratatouille?" he said. "Perhaps a spell to summon a swarm of rats? What will these humans think of next?"

As Bob studied, Justine took time away from her painting to care for little Toby, who was growing up to be quite the charmer.



"He is becoming much smarter and larger," Bob said. "Tell me, when will he be ready to begin making money?"

"Oh, Bob, you're such a kidder!" Justine laughed, giving him a playful sock on the arm. "He ain't gonna worry about that 'til he's good and grown up!"

"And how long will that be? Two, three days?"

"Just sixteen more years to go!"

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

One afternoon, over a plate of autumn salad meant for the refrigerator, Bob's Cooking improved yet again, and he had a revelation.



"That's it!" he shouted. "I know every recipe!"

"Really?" Justine said with a smirk. "Then what about stuffed turkey? You're not even--"

"I know every recipe!" Bob repeated. "All 28 of them!"

"But there's more than 28 recipes, Bob! What about--"

"EVERY. RECIPE."

And with the satisfaction of his "victory" in mind, Bob knew he was, in fact, Born to Cook.



And he celebrated the only way he knew how.

But sins of the flesh weren't Bob's only hobby! He started a personal garden, growing carrots, lettuce, and whatever special fruit came his way. He dabbled in machine work, upgrading his garden's sprinklers to automatically water the lawn. And he sought the secrets of the other half of the Ambrosia equation by taking up fishing.



Something about seeing those uppity angelfish wriggling on the end of his line put a smile on his vile face.

At home, as she continued to care for young Toby--teaching him to walk, talk, play xylophone, and properly use the toilet--Justine had a revelation.



"WHAT'S HAPPENIN' TO ME!?" she shrieked.

"Oh, your creation is just being undone by the forces of darkness," Bob said, casually looking up from his recipe for Fruit Parfait. "Forgot to mention. Yeah, it'll stop burning like the fires of a thousand suns in a second, don't worry."

And when the transformation was complete...



...Justine found herself with a new perspective on life.

"Sire, your dark plan must come to fruition," she said, stepping out of the restroom. "If we are to bring the manifestation of sin into the world, we must make haste. Come, take me unto thy bedchamber, that I might bear the first of the offspring of darkness!"

"...oh, wow, yeah, that's totally hot, but it's not time yet," Bob stammered. "Come, let us instead prepare the way for my own immortality."

And so Bob continued to take whatever opportunities came his way. He washed dishes, he delivered fish and plants to anyone who requested them, and--at his boss's behest--he befriended his coworker, Molly French.



...I think that's Molly French. Is that Molly French?

At last, Toby's birthday arrived. With a maniacal gleam in his eye, Bob took the child unto his own.



"Now, Toby Dudley, surrender thy mortal form to me!" he roared. "Abandon thy Good nature and embrace the ultimate darkness!"



It didn't take. The kid was irritatingly clean-cut.



"He is taking to the arts well, sire," Justine said. "See the way he holds his brush. He's a natural!"

"Golly gee whiz, thanks, Mom!" Toby said. "It's just so gosh-darn great to be here painting with you! I hope I can make the whole world a beautiful place with these pictures!"

From the bathroom, Bob grimaced.



"Yeah, make the whole world beautiful..." he grumbled. "But not my bathroom, of course, no, you just go ahead and wreck that part of the world."

It was not going well with young Toby. While Bob's personal goals were coming along nicely, Toby was not at all useful as a patsy. There was only one thing to do...



"Farewell, son!" Justine called. "May your time at Le Fromage Art School be fruitful, that you might return and fulfill your dark liege's macabre ambitions!"

"AND DON'T COME BACK UNTIL YOU KNOW HOW MUCH TOILET PAPER IS TOO MUCH!" Bob yelled.

Up Next: The heir!

[Oz]

Chapter 3
The Key Ingredients

The time for reproducing had not yet come--Bob knew that for sure. Toby could be useful indeed when the boarding school had whipped him into shape, but for now, Bob's personal disciplines remained lacking. He had much to learn and much to do, and taking the little toilet-clogger out of the equation for a while gave him the room he needed to breathe.

Indeed, time was beginning to trickle away...



"Sire, my aging continues unabated," Justine warned. "But know that the remainder of my days are devoted entirely to your service. Is it time yet for us to propagate the cause of darkness?"

"Patience, love," Bob assured her. "'Our dark machinations continue. Keep to your paintings, and I will keep to my own pursuits."

Life at Hogan's had shifted into a steady routine. Some days were difficult, as when Bob realized he would need to listen to the insufferable ramblings of his coworkers.



"Yes, yes, tarragon is very interesting, isn't it."

Some, however, were... less troubling.



"My lord, you are singed!" Justine cried.

"Oh, this?" Bob laughed. "This is nothing. Try swimming in the river Phlegethon and then talk to me about a little scrape like this."

"Nevertheless, I insist that we make haste to the shower, that I might wash your smoldering body myself!"

Bob smiled. "I'll allow that."

The fruits of Bob's... unorthodox gardening were beginning to flower. Literally.



"They are beautiful, my lord, and they shall keep you safe from the reaper?" Justine asked.

"Oh, yeah, Graham loves these," Bob said.

"Graham?"

"Yeah, that's his name. Graham Reaper."

The bit of Justine's soul that remained intact performed a full-on facepalm.

A quick trip to the police department at the request of some of Justine's old coworkers gave Bob one final revelation about the nature of Food, the Universe, and Everything...



"...eureka!" he shouted. "I have it! I have mastered the art of Cooking! Go, my dark bride, unto the bookstore, where I might find Dr. Simmons' dark thesis on the matter of Ambrosia!"



But first, Bob celebrated the only way he knew how.



"The hypothetical 'Life Fruit' and 'Death Fish' are needed for this recipe," Bob mused as he pored over the book. "I believe it is in only in the proportion that Dr. Simmons has failed. But I cannot know for sure until I see the ingredients myself."

On the occasion of Bob's birthday, a painting was hung in the living room.



Justine's Brilliant work would serve as a testament to her husband's smoldering good looks even as the taint of time lessened them.

And as Bob fished, it was time.



"The constraints of this mortal form weigh heavily," he sighed. "I must away to the graveyard!"

He threw his line into the waters, baited by the good-for-nothing angelfish, and waited. Beneath the water's surface, grim shadows lurked and twisted.

Suddenly, there came a bite.



"It exists!" Bob laughed. "The Death Fish exists! Just one ingredient remains!"

And so Bob headed home, but not before kibitzing with the locals.



"I miss beds," the ghost said.

"Yeah, they're pretty great," Bob confessed.

The money was continuing to pour in. While Toby became a Teenager enrolled at Le Fromage, Bob continued to work his way up the ranks before finally becoming a Sous Chef. To celebrate, Justine made her way to Hogan's on her husband's behalf, brandishing a stack of bills.



"Minions!" she shouted as she entered, brandishing the money. "Your restaurant is now the property of Bob Dudley!"

"Oh, yeah, Bob's pretty great," Molly French mused, looking up from her spices. "He's gonna be a heck of a boss here at Hogan's."

"SILENCE!" Justine interrupted. "We have rechristened this restaurant! The memory of Hogan falls to ash with this changing nomenclature! Henceforth, you are all employed at... Hell's Kitchen!"

Molly laughed, her smile not fading for a moment. "Hey, I like it! Got a nice ring to it!"

And so it was that Hell's Kitchen became the sole property of the Dudley family.

Bob celebrated the only way he knew how...



...and, indeed, the time have come.

"The child... the child grows within me!" Justine gasped.

"It will not be long now, my love," Bob said. "I have but one more task for you to complete while we wait for the baby to be born."



"Ice?" she said.

"Ice," Bob repeated. "If our passions are to be eternal, then we must show that even the ice in our home will last forever. You will sculpt my dread form in this medium that I might be preserved forever!"

And so Justine took to the ice quickly, making sculpture after sculpture, her chainsaw tearing into its every slick contour.

Bob's own studies continued as well.



"The final ingredient!" he cackled. "Dr. Simmons, you old fool, you have no idea what your invention has--"

"HRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRNGH!"

"...it's time?" Bob said, looking toward the now screaming Justine.

"HOSPITAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAL!" she roared. "THE HORNS, THEY'RE... AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUGH."

Three very painful hours later... the next generation had arrived.



"She is beautiful and deadly, like a thunderstorm," Bob sighed. "I see in her eyes not just the spark of Evil, but the spark of Discipline. She is... daddy's little angel of Wrath."

"Yeah, that's lovely, my lord," Justine murmured, "but I'm going to go lie down for the next thousand years or so. Ow. Ow. Ow."

Bob smiled as he took the baby from his wife. She stared back--cold, calculating. Bob swore he could see her grimace up at her father with a contempt that burned like a thousand fires.



"Awwwwwww," Bob cooed.

State of the Dudleys:
Bob Dudley (Generation 1):
Age: Adult
Traits: Evil, Natural Cook, Green Thumb, Angler, Friendly
Lifetime Wish: The Culinary Librarian (complete)
Career: Cooking path (Level 8 - Executive Chef)
SuperMax Skill: Cooking (Level 10 + Menu Maven)
Building: Hogan's Deep-Fried Diner (complete)
Property: None
Lifetime Rewards: Born to Cook (I have more, but the others are going to be the Food Replicator and No Bills Ever)
Best Friends: Justine Dudley, Emma Hatch (Jared Frio, Molly French, and Beau Andrews could be there without a lot of work, and Toby could probably get there easily as well)
Opportunities: The Greatest Food Ever, The All-New Bi-Pedal Dishwashing Machine, Great Greens, Harvesting the Best, Burgers for Sims in Uniform, Uncommonly Good (complete, though I may make the rest of the Omni Plant line Bob's uniques)
Portraits: Young Adult

So Bob needs to own a property and make a few friends--which I'm putting off until he's a bit older since Molly French is an Elder now and I don't know how long she's going to last. Cooking 75 meals to finish off the challenges will be a snap; I just need to sit down and do it. So barring a fire or a space rock, Bob's pretty much all set and should breeze through the end here. And with the Ambrosia ingredients in hand, he's really fulfilled his major purpose in ensuring that he'll be able to make and replicate Ambrosia forever.

One quick question: is it possible to breed fish? I thought I'd read something about it, and it sounds easier than going out during the very inconvenient Death Fish hours.

Wrath Dudley (Generation 2):
Age: Infant
Traits: Evil, Disciplined (Planned: Athletic, Mean-Spirited, either Adventurous or Handy)

(...and that's about it for our adorable lil' firebrand of vengeance. Wrath is going to pursue Martial Arts as her supermax skill and Military as her career track, with Handiness held in reserve in case sparring bugs out (I've got Athletic planned for Greed, which will make sense given his/her obvious career path). I'm vacillating between Physical Perfection, Martial Arts Master, and Become an Astronaut for her LTW; Martial Arts Master makes the most sense and involves the most beating the snot out of people, but the other two go with the career nicely. Thoughts?

Oh, and which of the seven deadly sins do you want to see come into play next generation? I'll leave that one up to you guys.

Up Next: Bringing up Beelzebaby!