Contributing Author: CathyTea
Author’s Blog: http://cathytea.wordpress.com
Owen had been working even more feverishly ever since he was scolded by his disappointed father’s ghost. He was more determined than ever to accomplish his goal of becoming fabulously wealthy by the end of the week so he could begin his duties as heir of the Pruett legacy. As usual, his long work hours meant long hours away from everyone else buried in his computer or in the garden.
However, because he was so close to accomplishing his goal, he figured he didn’t need to spend much more time writing books. His royalties were more than §1000 per day, and he only needed around §20,000 more to hit §200,000. He had it in the bag. One evening, he decided to chill out and check his email. He mostly only got junk, but he liked to keep a clean inbox. This particular evening, he got a very interesting email.
“A chain letter? Sims still send these things? That’s really lame. Ok, let’s see what this one says.”
Hey-oh! Do you ever wish you had more love in your life?
Ha, he thought. I most certainly do!
Follow the instructions in this email, and you just might find yourself at the center of your own love universe! And if you don’t follow these instructions? You just might find your lonely self spending the days talking to plants in your garden.
Bah! Like this email is going to solve my problems. So, what do I need to do, oh mighty email?
What better way to spread the love than by hosting a party!
But here’s the deal: this can’t just be any party! It’s got to be a party of newfound friends. And not just any friends, but Townies and NPCs!
Townies?? What the heck are NPCs?! Is that some new political party or something? Some kid probably wrote this. Darn kids and their Internet lingo!
How do you pull that off?
Well, first, make between 8 and 15 new friends. These should be NPCs–you know, Sims Currently Not in World (aka Townies), Service NPCs, you name it! Just no CAS and no pre-mades–hey, they already get all the love!
So for this party, dig into the real heart of your world and befriend the un-befriended!
Once you’ve made between 8 and 15 new NPC friends, throw a party!
Invite all your new NPC friends.
Ugggh! I don’t even know what this email is talking about! CAS…not in world…am I supposed to befriend aliens?! And 8 – 15 friends? Who does this Sim think I am? Brady??
Owen didn’t really believe in the power of chain letters, but this one hit a sore spot. He couldn’t catch a break. First Alayna, then Lance, and now even the Internet was trying to get him out and meeting people. It seemed the entire Simiverse was calling for him to do something about his responsibilities.
Ok…ok…calm down, Owen, he told himself. Whether this email is real or not, I know I need to do something. I may not make eight friends, but I’m not gonna meet ANYBODY sitting here in this house night after night!
He thought about it for a while, but he had already solved his problem a few thoughts ago.
Brady! Brady can help me!
Owen deleted the email and ran downstairs to find his brother.
“Brady,” he shouted throughout the house. “Brady! Bra–oh, there you are.”
“Nothing! Ummm…are you free…tonight?”
“Uhhh, let me check my calendar,” he said as he pulled out his phone. “Sheila…nope, Viviana…next week, Robyn? Why is she in here??”
“Hmph…ok, yeah, no clients tonight. What’s up?”
“Let’s hang out! You can be my wingman.”
“You want to go out?”
“Yeah. I’m surprised to see you here in the hallway.”
“Well, I’m back. No more nights on the computer and in the garden. I’m almost there, bro!”
“Really? That’s great! Well, yeah, let’s go out! We have to celebrate your new life!”
“Yeah! To new life!”
They both ran upstairs and put on their party threads and went to The Fountain.
Owen didn’t party much, and his outfit reflected it, but Brady will address that another time.
“The first drink is on me,” Brady said.
They went upstairs and sat at the bar which was pretty scant at the time.
“Can I have a, uhhh, Buffalo Wing Tea…please,” Owen asked.
“Coming right up,” the bartender said.
“Really, bruh? A Buffalo Wing Tea,” Brady said flatly. “Look here, bartender, my brother here doesn’t go out…this is probably his first juice. We’re celebrating his new life. He’s gonna start going out and meeting the ladies! Give him something strong and celebratory, will ya?”
“Now that’s something to celebrate,” the bartender said. “Sorry, fellas. I hate to disappoint you, but I’m just filling in for my boy. He’s sick. I’m Drake. I actually live next door to you guys.”
“So…no juice then,” Owen asked.
“Oh! The house full of bros! Yeah! Two of your roommates married my two cousins Mia and Marli.”
“Hey…I need to pay you all a visit. I’m Brady, and I’m a personal trainer, and I know you guys like working out. Maybe you could put in a good word for me?”
“Seriously…you can’t make me a juice?”
“Ha! Sorry man. I’ll make you that tea. That’s about all I can make. Just give me a few minutes.”
Two females walked in. One old and one young.
“Hey, Owen…check her out. You should go say hi!”
Drake looked at her, and said, “Yeah…she’s hot.”
Owen turned around to look at her, but he recognized her. Both of them, actually.
“Dude…she’s our cousin!”
“Allie! Allie Pruett.”
“That’s your cousin? Good…I’ma holla at her,” Drake said.
“Allie Pruett? How is she even related to us?”
“I don’t know. Ask Alayna! She knows all about our family.”
“Dang! Why do we Pruetts have to be so plumming good looking?”
“Hey, Drake,” Owen said, “do you know what a townie is?”
“A townie? Don’t think so. What is that? Like, slang for city slickers or something?”
“I don’t know either.”
“Somebody say something about townies,” asked an unknown Sim who quietly joined the conversation.
“Uhhh…yeah,” Owen said hesitantly. “Do you know what it is?”
“Yessiree. I am one.”
“Okaaaay, so…what is a townie?”
“It’s us Sims who live in the world, but not in the world.”
They all gave him a blank look.
“Ok,” Brady interjected. “I think this guy has already been juicing, he he he. How about that Wing Tea, Drake?”
“You laugh, but what I say is real. None of this real. We’re not real,” shouted the mystery man.
“Okaaay, Brady. I think it’s time for us to go now. This place is filling up, and you know how I don’t like to be around a bunch of strangers.”
“But I just finished finished making your tea,” Drake said.
“Give it to that guy down there,” Owen said referring to the guy with the ponytail.
“Thanks, bro,” the guy with the ponytail said.
Owen and Brady got up to leave, and as they walked out the door, they heard the mystery man spreading his gospel to one of their neighbors.
“This is all a game! We’re nothing but pawns in humans’ hands!”
“Oh, heh heh…that’s nice. [ahem] Bartender…can I have a Ridgeport…to go?”
When Owen got home, he went to his room and got ready for bed. He lay there and thought about that email.
Hmmm…if it were possible for me to make 8-15 friends, probability says that at least one of them would HAVE to fall in love with me! I don’t need voo doo to tell me that!
And with that, he rolled over and went to sleep. The next day was the day he had been working so tirelessly for. He was promoted to Regional Manager! Between his bonus, salary, book royalties, and and sale of that day’s crop of flowers, he made his goal of earning §200,000 and a total of §305,000 throughout the process of becoming fabulously wealthy. He was so immensely happy, he felt like a rocket launching into space. He was so full of energy and life, he felt like there was nothing he could not do. He wanted to tell someone, but there was no one was around. He and Roland had the same schedule, but he had already gone inside to greet his family, and Brady was working with a client. He just stood outside and breathed in the air of satisfaction and accomplishment.
“I DID IT,” he yelled. “I ACTUALLY DID IT!! My flowers…my beautiful, strange flowers…you did this. Thank you! Thank you so much! If I didn’t have to keep watering, weeding, and spraying you, I’d say that you guys could take a break but…”
“…wait…am I actually standing here talking to my flowers?”