Last time, I bet Radax’s love life and the entire fate of the legacy on a 5am police brawl. On one side, a champion of law and order; on the other, one of crime and corruption.
So who will it be???
Nancy: Sir, I am an officer of the law. I will not be spoken to this way.
Nancy: And please kindly stay down!
Lady, you are missing a prime “THIS IS SPARTA” opportunity right now.
So that settles it. Bad-Ass-Good-Cop Nancy defeats the burglar and wins the heart of Radax… right?
Nancy: Sir, I need to take you to my car. Sir? Sir? Oh my, the burglar seems to be broken.
Radax: How did we get up here?
I reset you. The game is borked and I need you to do something about it.
Gerald: You can’t have it. The ladder is mine. MINE!
Kirstin and Radax take “do something” as “stand around being all sappy” while poor Nancy is powerless to retrieve their stolen goods.
Nancy: I don’t understand! I did everything by the book!
Kirstin: You are so special to me.
Radax: Wow, suddenly I feel fine about being robbed!
In the end, we have no choice but to reset good old Gerald. And that’s how the world’s worst burglar gets away with half of Radax’s belongings.
Nancy: Well, I did my best.
She did, and I’m not sure what this spells for the ultimatum. What am I supposed to do if she kicked his ass but didn’t technically get our stuff back? D:
While I’m waiting for a sign from the gods, I get one from Radax instead:
Your sim can’t possibly speak to you any louder than this.
Nancy: A text from Mr. Maitland? “Why don’tcha try out my new ladder, Officer Sexy?” Oh, Mr. Maitland, you are a bad man!
Nancy: The ladder seems to be in working order.
Radax: That’s great!
Kirstin: I’m sorry, who is this?
Nancy: Oh, pardon my manners! I’m Officer Nancy Docket, SSPD. Pleasure to meet you.
Kirstin: No it’s not.
The game still thinks Nancy’s here to fuck shit up, so Radax’s interaction menu is limited to about three things.
Radax: Hey, thanks for risking your life for our toilet. Here’s a goat video.
Nancy: Pardon, but I’d rather watch your face.
Kirstin: I don’t like this. I don’t like this at all.
Kirstin: Alright, Officer Longstocking, time to go home. Radax—a word, please.
Nancy (whispers): Are you about to be murdered?
Radax (whispers): Honestly, I’m not sure.
Nancy (whispers): I’ll wait upstairs just in case.
Kirstin: Are you an idiot? What kind of burglar invites a cop into his secret hideout?
Radax: Um, the kind of burglar that’s getting burgled?
Kirstin: Only a schlep would make that mistake. A real outlaw would just go steal another toilet.
And that’s when I realize the real problem with dumping Kirstin. Because when you’re dating your boss, things like this are always a possibility…
…and don’t think I won’t take advantage of that…
…but so are things like getting fired when you piss her off.
Radax: Please don’t fire me.
Kirstin: Relax, I’ll let this one slide. But you’ll need someone to keep an eye on you out here so that nothing like this happens again. *sigh* I guess I will reluctantly shoulder that task.
Radax: What do you mean?
Kirstin: Hey, roomie!
So Kirstin moves in and combines her klepto empire with Radax’s, getting a “domestic criminal” makeover in the process. I like her kooky fashion sense so I kept most of her outfits the same, but those pigtails just weren’t doing it for her.
Are you ready for this? Because I wasn’t—Kirstin Law is an Evil, Insane, Hot-Headed Kleptomaniac who Can’t Stand Art. That makes her one of two EA-made sims with all negative traits, the other being Sinbad Rotter. She enjoys Indie music, Grilled Cheese, and Spice Brown, if she is indeed capable of enjoying things. Currently at Level 5 in the Criminal career, she dreams of becoming the Emperor of Evil (same career as Radax; other branch). She’s also 10 days from her elder birthday.
And no, technically founders aren’t supposed to marry “Rich” sims (she brought in $20,000) but they did just get robbed, so fuq da police.
Er, maybe I should reword that.
Kirstin: That cop chick ain’t got nothing on me.
Radax: Is this what roomies do?
Kirstin: Sure, kid. Sure it is.
Nancy: Those sure are some strange noises I’m hearing. Do you think Mr. Maitland is okay?
This breaks my heart a little, but… go home, Nancy.
(She’s still uber glitched after 12 hours so I reset her. I know, I know, she’s lovely and perfect and she should be with Radax. But alas, the stars just aren’t aligned for them. </3)
Kirstin also brings with her an inconvenient kitten named French Fry. I’m not in the habit of calling cats “inconveniences,” but as someone who once lost a unicorn to the social worker, I don’t like our odds.
Radax: This is totally safe!
French Fry: Lol I’m so dead.
But we’re off to a decent start, treating young French Fry to the same rustbucket furniture the humans enjoy.
French Fry: Why couldn’t Mommy marry a movie star?
^ I feel like that needs to be a country song.
I don’t often play Childish sims, but when I do, I am endlessly entertained by their mirror faces.
Radax: Of course you can have mustard on your hot dog, but first I’m going to need your credit card details and social security number. Trust me, that’s how it works.
Poster Girl: Oh, how nice!
Meanwhile, Kirstin feels the tell-tale signs of YAY PROGRESS and chucks her
cookies canned soup in the brand new commode.
Poster Girl: Oh, how nice!
Kirstin:What if I’m pregnant? What will happen to my career? Oh god, what if the schlep outranks me when I go back to work?
Girl, listen to yourself.
Kirstin: You’re right. That’s impossible. He sucks.
Still, she has to go sit in the children’s section at the library to stew over her deep thoughts.
Emily: Well, somebody’s got a bee in her bonnet.
Kirstin: I’ll put a bee in your bonnet.
Emily: Ooooh-key dokey.
Emily proceeds to critique all the pictures in the room.
Emily: Psssh, don’t they know cartoons are for adults now? Get some periodic tables up in here.
Kirstin ignores her. She has a wish locked in to learn Charisma and you obviously do that by ignoring people.
Lucky Emily has plenty of other people to vent to. Namely Steve Cupp, the slapper from last chapter. (Somebody put a patent on that.)
Emily: Aren’t those pictures in the kids’ section the worst?
Steve: My aunt painted those.
She then tries to salvage the situation with her Good Sense of Humour.
Steve: I’m gonna stop you right there.
Uh-oh, frozen for hours on a street corner with an awkward head tilt? That can only mean one thing!
Kirstin: Leave me alone so I can complete my transformation.
I come back to find her pregnant, raging at nobody, and still on the same street corner.
Kirstin: Bring that back, you thief! Oh wait, that’s me. Silly Kirstin.
This is her first pregnancy wish:
And this is her second:
Sadly, this is 5,000-point wish more likely to happen than someone learning and preparing a beginner recipe in my game.
It’s a good thing my sims are content with the simple life.
French Fry: ♫ Sounds corny and seedy, but yes indeedy… ♫
Oh dear, the cat’s gone stir crazy.
Speaking of crazy, do I WANT to know where you keep your phone if it’s still on you when you take a bath?
Kirstin: Probably not.
(Notice Radax reading a book for work instead of “Baby Incoming!” or whatever it’s called. Worst boyfriend ever. But he still won’t catch up to Kirstin.)
Kirstin: Oh, hey Brandon. I heard my [EXPLETIVE DELETED] ringing so I knew it must be you calling on our secret BFF phones. What’s up?
Turns out Kirstin has this really-good-but-totally-platonic guy friend from before we adopted her. I don’t like letting freebie friendships crumble to dust, so I let her chat with him for a while. That and at this point, I’m afraid to even let my cursor touch that cell phone.
After that, with 9 days to elder, she’s got her work cut out for her. It’s kids’ music all day errday to see if we can’t multiply that fetus.
Regarding the pink stereo: I like to think they stole some kid’s prized Barbie boombox that probably still had an AQUA cassette jammed in it.
Meanwhile, Radax kicks her while she’s down.
Coworker: Awesome work, man! So how do you get promoted without a boss?
Radax: I changed my title on the whiteboard. Lol.
With the new title comes new privileges, like pillaging the most lavish house in town. (In other words, I finally figured out where these people’s garbage can was.)
Radax: Ooooh, a teddy bear! It has a knife in its face and a revenge note in its overalls…
Imagine if you were a PI and that were actually our problem!
The garbage belongs to Madeline Buckshot, whose ex-husband Charlie Ray watches Radax the entire time from his poolhouse exile.
Charlie Ray: What do you want with the bitch’s trash? I mean, not that I care.
Radax: I, uh, work for the C.I.A.
Charlie: The what now? THE BEAR DOESN’T MEAN ANYTHING, I SWEAR!
That lie gets him a free pass to the grounds. Really, though? The C.I.A.?
Radax: Yeah, the of Confederacy of Illicit Activities! Smooth, right? *bottle smash*
Admittedly, it is pretty hard to distrust this face.
On the other hand, I’m surprised people even let Kirstin into their houses. Only the simselves are that dumb.
Kirstin: Why am I watching this crap?
Because the Kids’ channel could turn your twins into triplets!!
Kirstin: But cartoons are for adults now.
Kirstin: My, that couch was awfully comfy… *swipes*
Did I mention I love this trait?
Kirstin: Please let me take the bed… please let me take the bed… *swipes*
Nope, she got the stupid water jug instead. Curse my frivolous decorating tendencies!
Really? You go for curtains when you could’ve had the tea set? When you live in a basement?
Kirstin: I do not have that kind of control over my affliction.
Clearly not—laden down with child and with her stolen goods, AND WITH THE MINIVAN IN HER INVENTORY, he opts to walk home in the rain.
Halfway across town.
In the middle of the road.
By the halfway point, she’s gained a fan club.
Madeline: Girl, you got guts.
Other Lady: I read about you on the Internet! #KirstinWalks2016!
Julia: She’s not walking, she’s riding the crazy train.
Roughly seven years later, she hops in her car just to drive the last few metres onto the front lawn. It looks like she was briefly glitched to walk where she should drive and drive where she should walk, and I was just thinking how much fun that could be when the game figured its shit out. Damn.
In those seven years (give or take), Radax has time to nab another promotion.
(But actually this only took him half a workday, and I’m pretty fucking impressed. Given his “boss” was on maternity leave, I do have to wonder if he just pulled the whiteboard trick again…)
Radax: Hey baby, guess what I—
Kirstin: Can it, schlep. I’m birthing.
Radax: Oh— Oh my!
CRadax has the good sense to stay out of the way…
…and sleep right through his daughter’s birth.
Kirstin: Just as I planned! My little cat burglar!
That’s right—this is Cat Maitland, Brave by nature and Evil by dice roll.
I know you’re all like “Really Sam, did you just look up from your screen and name her after the first thing you saw?” Well, yes, but it also fits with the theme I chose. So there.
Cat is a Scorpio who likes Pink, French Toast, and R&B.
So the first thing Mommy does is sit down and rock out to some R&B tunes.
*braces self against rotten vegetables*
Fact: Sims can appreciate music seconds after birth. They are also born with fantastic hygiene, apparently.
Kirstin installs Cat in a newspaper-lined crate and then turns around to celebrate French Fry’s birthday just as it’s ending.
Kirstin: Hey, I have two cats now!
But you love them both equally, right?
Kirstin: I dunno, this one gives me candy.
With no time to lose, Kirstin sets out on another heist the next night. To the same house, because I built it and I know where all the goodies are. Also because the simselves are such easy dupes.
Ashley: Oh, hey Kirstin. Make yourself at home.
She’s literally in the middle of a “Swipe Something” command as Ashley and Heather stroll by, but they head right up the stairs as if nothing suspicious is happening.
My simself in the kitchen is—unsurprisingly—the most oblivious of all.
Sam: Three egg whites? But they’re all white!
Kirstin: I want that barbecue. *steals a torch* Dammit.
Turns out backyard heists are not the most lucrative.
Back home, Radax tries his hand at parenting.
Radax: Where’s her fun moodlet? Why isn’t she having fun with me?
Did you turn on the stereo?
Radax: Since I’m clearly so good at this, why don’t we have another one?
Kirstin: That sounds like a great idea! Haha, not.
She rejects him and hits the hay (probably literally, given the look of those sheets).
Radax: Well, I tried.
What a respectful young lad though. ❤
French Fry: I’m hungry!
Radax: Shut up, Onion Ring.
It occurs to me that Kirstin and Radax haven’t actually touched or spoken to each other since conceiving Cat, so I give them a generous 30 seconds to rekindle their flame before Thug Radax heads to work.
In that time, they learn each other’s alma maters from this amorous hug.
Kirstin’s is… unexpected.
As is this.
Kirstin: You’d better not get promoted again!
Radax: I’ll try!
At least now it’s more normal if her phone rings.
Radax doesn’t get promoted, so their relationship survives. And what an adorable little family—Radax, Kirstin, Cat, and cat!
French Fry: I have a name.
Hash Brown, wasn’t it?
Kirstin: I have an idea… we should hit up that jewellery store on the boulevard. And by “hit up” I mean “shoot up.”
Radax: Well, obviously!
Kirstin: Then I could give you a real diamond instead of just putting a light in a box.
Radax: Omg, let’s go now! Right now!
Their adventure is delayed by a slight “bump” in the road. *uses rotten vegetables as shield*
Kirstin: Wow, it’s a miracle!
More like the result of three TFB’s and fertility treatment on both parents…
I am okay with this.
Kirstin: What a coincidence—this is my “I am okay with this” face.
Radax: Darling, have you ever looked in a mirror?
Kirstin: No, why?
Young Cat is learning from the best.
Imagine being a babysitter and showing up to find out this was your assignment.
Stacey: Seems legit.
(Note: Her name is not actually Stacey. I just name them after members of the Babysitters Club if I have no notes to go by.)
But Stacey should probably be kicked out of the club, seeing as French Fry gets taken away on her watch.
French Fry: She didn’t even notice me! She thought the baby was meowing! She kept saying, “I guess that’s why they named her Cat!”
Guy: Don’t worry bae, I got u.
Psssh, I bet you’re not even a real social worker! I bet you collect other people’s cats and keep them in your grandmother’s attic!
Where is Kirstin through all this? Why, finding out if you can swipe things from inside community buildings, of course. (Spoiler: you can’t.)
Kirstin: Oh, my poor little Sweet Potato!
We tried real hard with that cat, we did. *nods*
With more and more visitors frequenting the lot, we figure it’s about time to throw up a facade. That and both parents want to throw Cat a birthday party, and while a dungeon party would be fun, we’d probably have to kill the guests afterward.
So the D.E.C.O.Y. House is born—D.E.C.O.Y. standing for Domestic Entrance to Covert Operations… Yurt. (I tried, okay? Yurt is the only “house” synonym that starts with a “Y.”)
The decoy is pretty convincing if I may say so myself. The fact that it lacks bathrooms, bedrooms, and a kitchen is not suspicious at all.
And you totally can’t tell that’s a door.
Yup, no one will ever know that there is a cavern full of stolen goods right beneath their feet!
A candid shot of the proud parents on the morning of their daughter’s birthday.
Kirstin: Oh my god, will you shut up??
Radax: Bleh bleh bleh, I’m Cat and I like to cry REALLY LOUDLY.
Nancy is the first guest to arrive, looking far too at-home in the DECOY house.
Nancy: Wow, Miss Kirstin has great decorating taste. I guess Mr. Maitland didn’t do too bad for himself after all.
She’s also a gorgeous badass and that makes me deeply regret the beginning of this chapter.
Radax and Kirstin bring Cat upstairs (upladder?) and dump her on the ground so they can make out and ignore their guests.
Nancy: Is it rude to pick up their baby without asking?
Old Guy: Probably. Let’s keep dancing.
Brandon Woods, aforementioned BFF of Kirstin, has no such reservations. He conveniently takes care of screaming Cat so the other guests can have a good time. Maybe Kirstin should marry him instead and leave Radax to frolic with Nancy? Yeah girl, don’t think I can’t see you looking at him.
Okay, I’ll stop trying to set up Cat’s parents with other people on her birthday. At least until the caking is done.
Radax: We should steal her— er, BUY her a llama for her birthday. WE ARE NOT THIEVES, EVERYONE!
It’s okay, they’re all too busy dancing with the wrong spouses. (Witness Brandon’s wife on the right feeling up Ashley’s husband. XD)
Old Guy: I am quite enjoying myself. I’d call this a modest success.
Why thank you, party critic.
Somehow the least photographed party guest, Cat ages up into a pastel copy of her mother. I’m about to flip my desk in protest of the face clone epidemic—until I notice she got her father’s ears.
Modest success indeed. 😀
Next time: more babies? Will Radax pull ahead in the career race? Will the simselves have any furniture left?
Until then, Happy Simming!