No matter what changed in Animal Crossing, the turnips never did. They were a constant, uniform, unchanging fact of life for everyone in the small town of Paris.
Or at least, that's what I thought.
One Sunday morning, I was just strolling around, looking for Joan to invest in a few turnips.
The stalk market was how I made my money. Sometimes it can be unpredictable, but usually it moves up and down. If you buy it when it's down, good for you. If you buy it when it's up, you may be screwed.
When I located Joan, she smiled at me as usual and offered me the choices of which turnip. But I had to do a double take. There were purple turnips on the list.
"Purple turnips?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"What about them?" She asked.
"Explain purple turnips." I responded.
Joan then launched into a long-winded description, but what I got out of it was this: The purple turnips were lucky. The more they cost, the luckier. It's also good to buy purple turnips and white turnips in conjunction, because the purple ones can sometimes manipulate the stalk market. You could only buy 1 at a time.
So I made my purchases of 10 white turnips, red turnip seeds, and one purple turnip.
Then I made the rounds of the day: planting my red turnips, collecting fruit, checking what's in stock at Nook's... Finally, I decided to go to the city.
I rushed back to my house and changed into a butterfly shirt from GracieGrace, and brushed my long red hair. I then twisted it up into a bun and left, grabbing my shopping card on the way.
On the bus, Kapp'n flirted-or tried to flirt-with me, but I was really beyond caring at this point. So what, he's an old turtle. He can do that.
The bus pulled up at the city soon enough and I hopped out.
First, I went to GracieGrace. I'd been saving up a long time and since they had their big sale on now, I figured I should buy something. I bought the heart-shaped sunglasses and the princess wallpaper and headed out again.
Next stop was the auction. There's never really anything good there, but I always have to check. Sure enough, there was nothing today. So I left.
Down the street, I got my shoes shined from Kicks, then made my way over to Shampoodle. I'd been throwing my hair in that ol' bun for a while now, so I thought it was time for a change.
The hairdresser there cut my hair and gave me bangs, then manipulated it into a high ponytail. I liked it. It was cute, and yet could last an entire evening out.
Since I'd made the trip down here, got my hair and my shoes changed, I figured, ah what the hell, I'll go see one of Shrunk's shows. They're not really very good, but I always laugh. You know why? Cause they're so bad!
I payed my 800 bells and walked into the theater. There was a sheep sitting in the front row, I thought her name was Baabara. I've only ever talked to her once.
Shrunk came on, made some crack about his wife, then the curtains were drawn again. Well, that was underwhelming.
I was about to leave when I realized I should go to Redd's. He should have changed his stock by now.
I walked down the sketchy part of the city, past the crates, holding my nose because of the awful smell. I knocked on his door, then pulled it open and walked in.
Redd's is just a little hole in the wall in the worst part of the city, but sometimes he has really good stuff. The invitation's worth it.
As I was browsing, something caught my eye. The famous painting. I flagged Redd down, and bought it. It was probably a fake, but something told me this was it.
I got back on the bus and left the city, feeling content. As soon as I got home, I would take the famous painting to the museum. The Louvre, as us citizens of Paris nicknamed it. Don't know where that came from, but someone came up with it and it just stuck.
The bus pulled up at Paris and I got out. The second my feet hit the ground I was off running for the museum. A few animals saw me along the way and tried to talk to me but I ignored them. This was important.
I burst into the museum. Sure enough, Blathers was sleeping.
I woke him up and showed him the painting.
"Hoo HOO!" He hooted joyfully. "Could this really be the celebrated famous painting?"
I was biting my lip, anticipating the realization it was a fake. But it didn't come.
"Yes, I thank you for your donation!" He chirped cheerfully, stowing it away in his pockets. I just about fainted. We had the famous painting? Right here in the small town of Paris? In the Louvre?
"Now, do you require any more assistance?" Blathers asked.
I shook my head. "Not really." I replied faintly. I needed a coffee.
I made my way down to The Roost and ordered the usual, with a splash of pigeon milk. I gave Brewster 500 bells and told him to keep the change. I was light-headed. The famous painting was in our humble museum?
-oooo-
The next day, the first thing I wanted to do was stroll over to the museum to see if Blathers had hung it yet. So I did. But as I drew nearer, a strange noise grew louder. It was the sound of many voices, talking all at once and very loudly, and heavy, pounding feet. The sound was punctuated by obnoxious clicking noises and, as the museum came into view, I suddenly understood.
There was a huge crowd of reporters, paparazzi, and random animals whom I assumed had come in from other towns to view our famous painting. They were all trying to get in, but Blathers and Celeste were blocking the door fearfully. Finally, Blathers stood, puffed his chest out, and said, "Welcome to the Louvre, home of the very famous..." Pause for effect, "Famous painting!" He and Celeste moved and the whole crowd streamed in, clicking their cameras and chatting excitedly.
Blathers sat down on the steps of the Louvre and sighed. Celeste's pink bow was mussed and his own bow tie was crooked. "When I heard some reporters were going to come..." He mused, rubbing his forehead, "I only thought one or two would spare some time for our quaint little town. Not a whole crowd!" He finished exasperatedly.
"Just wait for tomorrow." I spoke up. "After all those reporters write a story about us, there'll be even more people."
Celeste groaned. "They might even want to interview us." She pointed out. I rolled my eyes. Reporters.
Blathers sighed. This was going to be a long day.
-oooo-
By the end of the day, the town was in chaos. Blathers and Celeste were exhausted, Brewster was exasperated at the new (and much ruder) customers who didn't like his coffee and criticized his location. Cookie was affronted because one of the reporters tried to hit on her, Rasher was disgusted by the entire thing, and Tortimer had locked himself in his office and wouldn't come out. And me? I sat on the riverbank, eating an apple and watching the whole scene.
'My Lord...' I thought. 'When will this end?'
"Excuse me, miss?" I heard. I looked up and saw a rather cute dog holding a clipboard and a pencil. "My name is Bones, I'm here for the Versailles Insider?"
I sighed and patted the grass next to me. Might as well get it over with.
Bones took up his pencil. "How did you come to acquire this famous painting?"
"Well, actually, I brought it." I said. Bones' eyebrows shot up his forehead. I continued the story.
"In the city, Versailles, there's a fox who runs a shop, Crazy Redd."
Bones grimaced. "We've already done several stories on him. I'm currently trying to expose him for fraud. Don't tell me you got it from him?!"
I smiled uncomfortably. "Er, yes. But don't worry, it's not a fraud. Our resident painting expert, Blathers, could spot a fake from a mile."
Bones' expression told me he was still skeptical, but at least he didn't question it further. "Ah, okay. How do you think this will affect the town?"
I raised an eyebrow. "Affect the town? Pardon me sir, but Paris has stayed the same for forty years. I highly doubt it will change now because of one little painting."
Boy, I couldn't be any more wrong.