Greetings from the Omnigraphic Blogopticon. On view are vile sticky things dragged from the attic, snarky commentary on the world at large, and all-encompassing ennui. All that and a weird rubbery smell. A horrible time will be had by all.

Sunday, September 5, 2010

Welcome to Zombietown

I finally got my Sims loaded again, mainly because the books I've been reading lately have sucked an incredible amount of ass. Bored? You bet your bippy.

Note to self: Do another installment of Sev's Book Club, but with really shitty vampire novels.

When we last visited the Sims, the evil Dr. Ebenezer Schult had brought the desperately randy Edward Wharton up to this century from whatever generic Victorian era they have in Sim City. Edward, having already plowed through all the ladies in his own time, went at it full-steam in this really random 20th century I've managed to cobble together. After some strange Sims "woo-hoo" with creepy Cassandra Goth, who then left him for a life of stalking, groping, and ultimately terrifying every male celebrity in Sim City, he settled with diner waitress Maggie and their dorky child Eddie, Jr.

Edward is bored to tears and Ebenezer can now go on to other things, like Evil Plans.

But first, he has to get his own house in order. Back in the 18-whatevers, while he was busy beating the snot out of Edward, his lovely wife Abigail would happily practice her violin. Or at least until her crinolines caught fire and the Grim Reaper paid a house call.

Once he got Edward out of his way, desperately lonely Ebenezer then built himself a cast-iron female companion. Meet Acme Princess 1883, named after the coal stove he scavenged some of her parts from. She clanks a bit and tends to rust in the rain, but they're both pretty happy. Domestic bliss ensues.

Now that everything is all hunky-dory, Ebenezer can now concentrate on his Evil Plans, like cleaving this world into twain or whatever it is Victorian mad scientists tend to do. I think it must be a union thing because when they're not cranking out poisonous gasses they're trying to split the planet like a melon.

Evil Plans usually mean loud explosions, spare human parts, lightning, and much Evil Laughter. But what does one do with all the great vats of poisonous liquids produced as a by-product of Evil Plans? You could try storing them in metal drums, but those tend to pile up after a while, plus the blasted things have a tendency to leak.

"Hmmmm," he thinks. "No one is using that abandoned cemetery. I could toss all those drums in there and no one would be the wiser!" Right.

Cue the 45 Grave song "Party Time" and you get the picture.

See, this cemetery hasn't been in use since 18-whenever-the-hell-it-was, and sometimes a frustrated Edward visits to see which long-dead friends he remembers. He was quite fond of Lady Parkhurst, as you can see in the flashback. Not so much now that she and her reanimated husband Lord Parkhurst have crawled out of their graves. Awwww, he's all grumpy and has turned his back on her. You really shouldn't be so damned picky, Edward. Ladies can't always keep their youthful good looks.

And now zombies are rampaging through Sim City! Uhhh, buying drinks and ordering dinner and stuff.


Scott said...

This is what you're doing instead of checking your email?

Mouse said...

I really need to buy the remaining expansion packs so that I can get 'Hot Date' & the other town stuff... I do have some crazy green haired goth chick & a Blue Man living together with a mad scientist but my games aren't nearly as cool as yours.
I think more people would play the Sims if there were zombies.

Obsidian Kitten said...

I do have a very soft spot for that 45 Grave song.

*scurries off to download Sleep in Safety*

Obsidian Kitten said...

This makes me think the interwebs have room for a site that speculates upon the definitions of WV words.

It is also my new favorite thing.

WV: khationa
When one grows tired of having too many khats. (Alt: khatatonic)

Obsidian Kitten said...

Erm...well...maybe it never really caught on:

Severina said...

I'm a bit khatatonic from having too much khat, rather than too many khats.

WV: shmen
Feeling overwhelmed by too much khat.

Who would've thought a teeny, cute little spotted kitten would grow to Shetland pony size.

Severina said...

Oh, and I have a pile of Sims links with all kindsa free stuff downloads I keep intending to post with antique Victorian furniture, cool paint, floors, various weird crap, etc.

*runs away to work on massive UFO pile*

Obsidian Kitten said...


(An expression of feeling for another's shmen; or, an exclamation upon seeing a Shetland-sized khat)