Already in Progress, Chapter 22

Hello, and welcome to Already in Progress! Did you know that if the point of the game
were to kill off all one’s Sims, I would be world champion? I know this is true and not
just idle boasting or wishful thinking because the game told me so. And the game would
never lie. Right?
When I am not busy being the hypothetical world champion of Sim-killing, I am busy
documenting the lives of the residents of Sandersville. Let’s see how well I’ve been
doing at that, shall we? We can start at the Most Logical Brotherhood of the Telescope,
where the plot (such as it is) is Already in Progress…

BARTHOLOMEW, WHO IS IN BLUE AND HAS A SHAVED HEAD TO SHOW
THAT HE IS A FULL BROTHER, NOT JUST A NOVICE LIKE MATTHIAS AND
TYRONE: So where’s the new guy?
MATTHIAS: Using the energizer. He’ll be out in a minute.
BARTHOLOMEW: He needs that thing every day, doesn’t he?
MATTHIAS: He really doesn’t like making Sir Bricks-A-Lots.
BARTHOLOMEW: Who does?
(cue flashback sound effects)

TYRONE: How’s your level?
MATTHIAS: Middling green. How’s yours?
TYRONE: Low green. Date?
MATTHIAS: Sure, why not?
TYRONE: So what are you up for? Chat, Joke, couple games of Red Hands, maybe a
Friendly Hug?
MATTHIAS: Actually, I was thinking (whispers)

TYRONE: Monks are allowed to do that?
MATTHIAS: We are NOT MONKS, okay? And the whole point of the Brotherhood is to
get pregnant – of course we aren’t celibate!

TIMOTHY: So I think I’ve found a publisher!
SARAH JANE: For your thesis?
TIMOTHY: Yes, I reworked it into a book and I think it will do really well.
SARAH JANE: What’s it called again?
TIMOTHY: Logical Positivism and the Existential Ontology Movement: Influences in
Modal Logic and Naturalism. By Timothy Miller. I guess.
SARAH JANE: You’re not sure of the title? Or of your name?
TIMOTHY: I’m not sure how to sign it. I don’t actually like “Timothy,” and “Timmy” is
so childish. But “Tim Miller” sounds like someone you’d go to the game with, not a
philosopher. And I don’t like the combination “T. A.” I was thinking of “T. Aaron
Miller,” maybe, but it’s just – lacking something…

SARAH JANE: How about “T. Aaron Littledragon”? That sounds nice.
TIMOTHY: It does. (thoughtfully) “Logical Positivism and the Existential Ontology
Movement: Influences in Modal Logic and Naturalism, by T. Aaron Littledragon.” But
my name’s not “Littledragon.”
SARAH JANE: Mine is. I’d be willing to share.

And so Timothy Miller became Timothy Littledragon.

JON: Hey, Timmy. (fierce hug) Thanks for taking care of my daughter.
TIMOTHY: Ooof. Heh. You’re welcome, I guess, Jon. But she doesn’t need me to take
care of her.
JON: She will.

JON: Really? At this hour of the night?

JON: Well, of course I’m up for it. Don’t be ridiculous.

JON: I’ll dance with you anywhere, any time, for as long as you want. You know that,
Emmy.
JON: All you have to do is ask.

Jonathan “Jon” Littledragon, 76 years old. Jon was raised by people who thought image
was everything, and who perhaps should have considered the effect infidelity and a
murder-suicide would have on the family image. Heck, they probably should have
considered the effect those things would have on their kids. Jon eventually made a good
income off of his own image (literally), but lived his life according to what made him
happy. This included an unconventional-looking woman four years his senior, a late-in-
life child, and comfortable clothing.
Jon was a personal favorite, but he was never complete without Emmy, nor was she
complete without him. Now they are whole again. May they be happy together for all of
whatever comes next.
Let’s move on to something not quite so sad, okay? Before I embarrass myself by crying
in front of all my nice readers?

Whoa whoa whoa! I don’t think you should be playing there, kiddo.
TRIXIE: Bo go swuh swuh swuh foosh!

ROBI: Come on, sugarlump. Let’s find something to play with that’s not the toilet, okay?
TRIXIE: Bo go foosh! Aybe aybe bo!
ROBI: You don’t say.

TRIXIE: Ohsieray!
ROSALIE: Oodgay, oodgay! Ouyay areway eryvay artsmay, Ixietray! I’mway Osieray.
I’mway ouryay Ommymay. Ancay ouyay aysay “Ommymay”?

TRIXIE: Ohnay! Oo nah Mommy!
(Rosalie sighs)
In case you were wondering, Robi and Rosie are raising Trixie to be bilingual. Robi
speaks to Trixie in Simlish, and Rosie speaks to her in Alien. Trixie herself speaks a sort
of Simlien, but like most kids raised to be bilingual, she’ll have it sorted out by the time
she’s six or so. Alien mostly equals Pig Latin, so you probably don’t need a translation.
Let’s go check on the other alien in the family, shall we?

Hi, Cassie! – Ooops. (whispers) Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you.
CASSIE: No, no, ‘sokay. I’m just a bit sleepy from the party last night.
You had a party last night?
CASSIE: Uh-huh. (yawns) It was a Good Time, too.

CASSIE (V.O.): I wanted a Roof Raiser, but Lucky got stuck in the corner during the
Smustle. There’s more room out here, but I guess after you’ve had a few, Smustling in
the bedroom sounds good. (yawns) That didn’t come out right… And I couldn’t convince
my son to bring any of his college friends with him.
Tsk tsk tsk. Doesn’t that boy know how to have fun?
CASSIE (V.O.): Oh, I think he’s having plenty of fun.

CASSIE (V.O.): I’m just sure it’s the kind of fun you don’t tell your mom about.
Ah. Say no more.

Have I mentioned that Eileen Tang is Romance?
No?
Eileen Tang is Romance. That seems to give her two bolts with Ricky Cormier here.
Normally, I would consider two bolts a keeper, but in this case, I think it’s one bolt for
each Romance Sim, which doesn’t count.
Plus, I don’t like Ricky Cormier. Sue me.

And Colin got his hula zombies.
Everyone else was pretty broken up about it, but do you see that big smile on Colin’s
face? He gets to see Lee again.

Colin (Littledragon) Long, er – Let’s say one year older than Andrew, four years older
than Jon, and leave it at that, shall we? Something went wrong somewhere along the line,
probably during the rebuild, and somehow Colin ended up in his 80s while his four-
years-younger brother was still in his 60s.
While in college, Colin had a stable of girlfriends and boyfriends. He wasn’t exactly
exclusive after college either, but did eventually settle down with Lee Long. He also
became Mayor of Sim City, achieving Permaplat status, and he took in his nephew
following the latter’s graduation from college. Not that his nephew couldn’t have moved
back in with his own parents or even found his own place, but it’s the thought that counts.
Goodbye, Colin.

Life at the Miller household was going swimmingly. I had a nice update planned for you
about the little things: Ryan’s A+, Amy getting her bronze badge in Robotics and
learning how to build CleanBots, Byron going Permaplat…
Not that I was going to show you Byron’s work uniform, you understand. It’s completely
out of character. But I would have included a deliberate shot of the plumbbob.

But as it turned out, Caryl’s lifebar was glitchy and reflected the lifespan of whoever I’d
looked at before, not how much time was actually left to her. So when I wasn’t looking,
this happened.
RYAN: Dad? Come on in, please. You can’t stay out here all night.

Guys aren’t much for talking about their feelings, but everyone knows that food makes
everything better.
RYAN: Come on, Dad. I’ll make you some hot milk, like you used to make for me.
JEROME: He doesn’t need hot milk. He needs a nice strong cup of coffee. I’ve got it.
BYRON (firmly): Fluffernutters. That was what Mom made when we were little. How
about a nice thick fluffernutter, Lucky?
LUCKY: I – Thank you.

Caryl (Cwik) Miller, aged coughmumbleahemyes. Caryl was raised to follow Strict
Family Values. Although this was somewhat frustrating for Lucky during the courtship
phase of their relationship – imagine not being allowed to hold hands until after you’re
engaged! – once it came to the having-babies phase, he couldn’t have been happier. At
least two of Caryl’s three sons did not inherit her Strict Family Values beliefs, but she
loved them anyway. Caryl’s LTW was to Max Out Seven Skills, which she did not
achieve. Lucky misses her something awful.
Goodbye, Caryl.
And Stacey?

Stacey is doing as well as can be expected, I suppose. She’s with Toby now.

Stacey Miller, 77-ish, seen here in a picture taken in college. You didn’t know that she
went to school with international supermodel Jon, did you? Well, now you do. Stacey
never achieved her LTW of becoming a Celebrity Chef, but she did maintain good
relations with her family – including her niece and nephews, which is a major
achievement for me. In a family full of chickens and deformed chickens, Stacey was a
hawk, and therefore the most attractive of them all.
Rest in peace, Stacey.

It’s birthday time at the Robin Sanders house. Yvette has hit Elder.

Gerard has moved off to college. (More about that next time.)

And both Cillian and Mifune have grown up well.

Very well indeed, in Anne’s opinion.

(Incidentally, when Anne got home that night, both she and Lucy grew up too. I tell you
this now to maintain continuity.)

Anne keeps calling to talk to Mifune…

…but it’s her sister who gets invited over after school.
Let’s see how their family is doing.

JASMINE: You what? How could you be so stupid? Didn’t I tell you about the project
we had going on at work?
JASPER: Yeah, but that was off-planet –
JASMINE: Not the telescope futures – the displaced Nigerian royalty! That’s one of our
biggest draws! I know I told you about it. I distinctly remember feeling my lips move.
JASPER: Yeah, but this was displaced Zimbabwean royalty. It’s completely different!
JASMINE: (screams, because killing people is illegal) Well, thanks to you, we are out of
money! We are going to have to sell everything we own and move somewhere else;
someplace we can afford.
JASPER: Uh… When you say “everything,” you don’t mean my sports car, right?
JASMINE: YES, I mean your sports car!
JASPER: But… It’s my sports car. You gave it to me after the girls were born.
JASMINE: I gave it to you, and I can damn well take it away again. That’s the first thing
I’m selling. (calls up the stairs) Oh girls! Daddy has something he wants to explain to
you!

JASPER: Well, this isn’t so bad, right? Jasmine? Let’s go explore our barn.
JASMINE: We don’t have a barn.
JASPER: But it’s right there. You got a pretty good deal on such a big place.
JASMINE: Our property ends just past the driveway, and about ten feet behind the house.
JASPER: Oh.
JASMINE: Did I mention that we don’t have any lights? Or heat? And the water only
runs occasionally.

ANNE: Whatcha doing?
LUCY: Watching Mom and Dad meditate.
ANNE: Why?
LUCY: Why are they meditating, or why am I watching?
ANNE: Uh-huh.
LUCY: Well, they’re meditating because we’ve only got one bed, and you and I were
sleeping in it. And I’m watching them because there’s no TV. Not that we have any
electricity anyway.
ANNE: Oh. (joins Lucy) Is it any good?
LUCY: Actually, yeah. No commercials.

VALERIE: Ruth? Ruth, where are you?
MEN’S CHORUS
Eh! What a nose!
And oh! What eyes miss!
RUTH: I’m in the basement!
MEN’S CHORUS
Lips loike a rose
And cheeks loikewise miss!
VALERIE: You’re not watching that nonsense again, are you? Why don’t you go out on
a date?
RUTH: Ma!
WOMEN’S CHORUS
Oi’ll tell you true
Which Oi never done sir
VALERIE: You need more romance in your life. If you can’t find anyone you like in
your classes, I’ll pay for the matchmaker for you, as many times as you like.

RUTH: I have enough romance now, Ma! Thanks!
VALERIE: No, what you have is that nineteenth-century opera hooey. Nobody likes that
stuff any more. Come on, I’ll help you find a nice boy. Or a nice girl. One you can even –
even marry if you’re into that. I’ll still love you if you’re a Family Sim, really I will…
RUTH: I can’t heeeeaaaar you, Ma! (turns up the volume)
WOMEN’S CHORUS
Oi loike you
As Oi never loiked none sir
(“‘Tis twelve, I think.” From The Sorcerer. Words by W.S. Gilbert, Music by Sir Arthur
Sullivan.)
Yes, I like that piece. Why do you ask? And speaking of interfering parents…

PERRY: Now that Harkon’s a Teen, it won’t be long before he starts dating.
AMETHYST (noncommittally): Mmm-hmm.
PERRY: And once he meets a nice girl, it’s only a matter of time until they get married.
AMETHYST: Perry, have you seen his room?
PERRY: Yes, he’s got up all kinds of posters.
AMETHYST: Of?
PERRY: Some boy bands, some athletes. So what? – Do you think I should offer to pay
for the matchmaker? He’s not as shy as me, but it can be very hard to meet girls.
AMETHYST: Perry, I think you should talk to Harkon before you do anything. I think
there’s something he might want to say.

PERRY: So… Your mother says there’s something that you want to say to me?
HARKON: Uh, I don’t think so.
PERRY: Oh. Okay. – So do you want me to call the matchmaker for you now that you’re
a teen? I know it can be hard to meet girls when you’re shy.
(Harkon chokes on his sandwich)

HARKON: Actually, Da… I, uh. I. (whispers) I’m gay.
PERRY: Say again?
HARKON (half-shouts): I’m gay!
PERRY: Oh.
(Long, thoughtful pause)
PERRY: Good.
HARKON (squeaks): Good?
PERRY: Yes, good. Now you won’t be slowed down by whether your wife wants a baby
or not. I’ll give you the phone number of the Most Logical Brotherhood of the Telescope
– they’ll help you get abducted, and if you meet a nice like-minded green-skinned boy,
they’ve got technology that can let you both be pregnant at the same time. I’ll get you the
number of the adoption agency, too, just in case. Those are both much more efficient
methods of getting me grandbabies. I want six, by the way.

Alas, Andrew will not see those grandbabies. Or in his case, great-grandbabies. The hula
zombies came that same night.

Andrew “Andy” Littledragon, 80 years old. (I did mention that the ages got all mixed up
during the rebuild, right?) Andrew majored in physics, married a wonderful woman,
fathered natural twins (and a daughter), survived a nasty car accident, successfully fended
off the Social Worker, and reached Permaplat all before he hit Elder. He had a fondness
for pink bowling shirts and songs from The Threepenny Opera, and he was much saner
than either of his parents. He will be much missed.
Goodbye, Andy.

Hi, Kitty! How goes it?
KITTY: It goes, it goes.
What was the pink streak of lightning I saw just now?
KITTY: Oh, that was Nirel. That boy never walks anywhere if he can run, and he
probably wouldn’t run if he could fly.
He had his birthday? Happy birthday to him! And to Tirtha, too, right?
KITTY: And to Tirtha too. They’re twins.

So how’s Tirtha?
KITTY: Eh, I don’t really know what to make of her.
But she’s your daughter.
KITTY: And your point is?
Um…

KITTY: Never mind. Have you seen how nice the place looks now that we’ve enclosed
the whole fist floor?
Very nice! Very nice indeed! And just think – all this on two items per day!
KITTY: (clears throat) Well, mostly.
Mostly?
KITTY: It’s Simon. First he manages to sit down at the table in the conservatory – I still
don’t know how – but he couldn’t get up until we put down two more floor tiles.
Well, that’s okay. You’re allowed to fix glitches.
KITTY: And then he decided, all of a sudden, that he couldn’t possibly pee unless we
were all outside. And he’s got a very small bladder. So we put up two more walls.
(snorts) Like we weren’t the ones who wiped his butt when he was little.

Young men need their privacy – Whoa! When did you resurrect Galileo?
KITTY: We didn’t. That’s Mircea.
Mircea? But he looks exactly like Galileo!
KITTY: No, Galileo’s nose was thinner.
Was it? (peers at Mircea doubtfully) Hey, this means you’re an Elder too, right?

KITTY: Who, me? I’m as young as I ever was.
You don’t look it.
KITTY: When was the last time you had your eyes checked? Go bother someone else,
why don’t you?
Because I’ve already checked in with everyone else.
KITTY: Then wrap things up. Don’t just sit there and insult me.

Well, I know how to take orders. I’ll leave you with this picture of Harkon Littledragon,
who is going to make some lucky man very very happy someday.
Now I just have to figure out which man is deserving of him. (And willing to put up with
lots and lots of babies.) That question won’t be resolved next time, but I hope you’ll join
me anyway. Until then, Happy Simming!

Already in Progress, Chapter 22

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Already in Progress, Chapter 22