Welcome to Slavestown
Chapter Six
Tank Grunt is wandering down the Road to Nowhere, searching the street for any potential helpers. Tank walks up to the first house and knocks on the door. He waits for a few moments, before heading to the next house and repeating the same gesture over and over again. After thirty minutes, Tank finds himself alone, feeling rather discouraged.
"Don't give up, Tank," Isabella's voice rings from the headset, "Sometimes you just have to wait for people to come to you. Not everyone wants to take that big of a risk."
Tank sighs and gets up from off the steps, heading towards the Strangetown apartment buildings. He knocks on the first door, where surprisingly someone answers.
"Yes?" Ajay Loner - probably the most normal sim in the city - states, gazing down at the young man, slightly confused. "May I help you…?"
"Yes," Tank quickly answers, shocked that he is actually talking to someone. "I'm rounding up troops for the Strangetown Army to take out Loki, are you interested?" he asks.
Ajay shakes his head, "Nope. See ya!" he says, slamming the door in Tank's face. Tank groans and slowly turns around, only to find himself face to face with none other than-
"Hey only semi-embarrassing son, how's it going?" General Buzz asks, his facial expression moderately pleasant. "I heard you're rounding up troops for the army, and this kind of thing is right up my alley," he comments, nodding in approval, "I get teary eyed just thinking about it," he continues, gazing up at the sky and giving a small sniff. "I'm sure you remembered that, which is why I decided to find you here instead of waiting until you came to our house."
"Yeah," Tank responds, letting this mull over for a bit, trying to hide the fact that he purposely skipped over their house. "I was definitely heading over there…"
"I know," General Buzz calls out, "Cause you'd be stupid not to." Tank's father smiles as he steps to the side, exposing the silver metallic life-sized robot that is standing behind him.
Tank steps back, slightly weirded out by the creature that is staring him down. "Uh, is that your robot?" Tank asks.
General Buzz nods, "Oh yeah, that's Sheba. She's the best," he claims, placing a hand on her cold shoulder, "Strong in spirit – just like me!"
"Uh-huh," Tank states, quickly shifting his gaze between his father and Sheba. "Well, I guess you guys can join the army if you want to…"
"Haha, oh Tank. Don't act like you have another choice!" General Buzz speaks up, "After all, this is the best and only option!"
"Right…" Tank trails off, seemingly unconvinced. "Anyway, you and uh- Sheba," Tank begins staring once again at the Servo, "Should go around the neighborhood and see if you can round up any more troops," he informs them, "I've almost visited every house on this street, I just need to go over to the Smiths-"
General Buzz frantically steps in front of Tank, blocking his path. "Whoa, whoa, whoa! You're not going over there, that is enemy territory!" he exclaims.
"Dad, in this war, we're on the same side!" Tank attempts to reason.
General Buzz grunts, "Yeah, and who told you that? Twinkle Toes Vidcund?" he asks.
Tank scrunches his forehead confused, "What?" he states.
"We're not working with the Smiths and that's final!" General Buzz declares, dramatically waving his arm forward in an end-all position.
Fifteen minutes later, the small group is standing in front of the Smith residence waiting for Pollination Tech #9 to gather his essentials. Tank and Sheba Hugs are standing on the porch while General Buzz waits on the front walkway, grumbling to himself.
"You are fraternizing with the enemy! That man is plotting against us – I know it!" General Buzz warns, crossing his arms in front of his torso.
Jenny kisses Pollination Tech #9 on the cheek as he walks out the door and off the wooden front porch. "Have fun!" she states, wishing them well as she waves goodbye to the rest of the army. Tank and Sheba Hugs wave back.
"Well, now that we have you here, we can continue scouting the area for potential recruits," Tank tells Pollination Tech #9; he nods. Behind them, General Buzz is still grumbling to himself. "But before we do, I should probably ask you guys a few questions, just to make sure that we're on the same page," Tank informs them, as he makes eye contact with General Buzz, Sheba Hugs, and Pollination Tech #9. "So uh, do you three have any combat experience?" he asks.
General Buzz shakes his head at the audacity of this mere question. "Psh, well duh," he replies. Sheba Hugs and Pollination Tech #9 glance at each other briefly before turning back to Tank and shaking their heads.
"Alright, that's okay," Tank assures them, "We'll just be a non-confrontational army. Those always succeed, right?"
"You guys looking for fighters? If so, I'm pretty experienced," a voice rings out behind them. Tank and the others turn around, finding themselves face-to-face with a sim wearing a black gladiator outfit. Tank steps back, slightly terrified.
"And uh, who exactly are you?" Tank asks, pondering whether or not they should trust this person, or call it quits right now.
"More like what exactly are you?" General Buzz mumbles to Sheba, the pair standing behind Tank.
The gladiator tilts their forehead, extending their hand out to them. "I'm just a helpful sim who is good at fighting and wants revenge," they state, grabbing Tank's hand and giving it a snake. "You know, I don't mean to brag, but I once knocked Loki out in one punch," they say, as if they were spewing out their resume.
Tank turns to the others, exchanging gazes with them before looking back up at the strange masked sim, clearly impressed. "Well, if you're half as good as you say you are, we'd be foolish not to let you join," he states, shaking their hand again. "By the way I'm-"
"-Tank, Pollination Tech #9, Sheba Hugs, and Buzz," the masked sim completes, pointing their finger at each of them as they do so. "Yeah, I know," the gladiator finishes, "I'm a resident, not an outsider. Now come on people, let's do some butt-kicking!"
The group looks to one another once more, before Tank gives a shrug. "Uh, okay," he agrees. The group heads down the Road to Nowhere, scanning the area for any and all suspicious activity. General Buzz speeds up and walks forward, nudging his son in the side.
"Look son, I know you're trying to do something scrapbook-worthy here," General Buzz speaks up, keeping his voice down to a hissy whisper, "but there is no way that I'm working with this clown!" he whisper-exclaims, pointing his thumb behind him at the elderly alien.
Tank sighs, rolling his eyes as he continues forward, his feet starting to ache a bit from the excessive amount of walking. "Come on dad, the fate of the entire city is at stake," his reminds his father "Can't you just put your petty feud behind you until we save it?" he suggests.
"I can't!" General Buzz outbursts, "I mean, just look at him: Pure evil," General Buzz replies, powerfully emphasizing his final two words.
Tank turns to the left and stares at Pollination Tech #9, who is kneeling down in the center of a field, innocently picking daisies. He picks one up in his hand and sniffs it, giving a delicate sigh. Seeing them, Pollination Tech #9 smiles and gives the father-son pair a friendly wave.
Tank turns back to General Buzz, raising an eyebrow in doubt. "Pure evil," General Buzzes concludes with a head shake.
Meanwhile: Back at the Safe House
Brent and Breanna are busy at work resurrecting all of the sims that were buried in Olive's garden. Brent sighs, hanging up the Resurrect-O-Nomitron, wiping the sweat from off his forehead. "My gosh, we've been doing this for hours! How many people did she bury in that garden?" he asks, pacing over to take a much needed sip of water.
"Nineteen," Breanna answers him, moving around a few papers on her clipboard. "But don't be discouraged, there's only a few left," she explains, "Of course, that still leaves all of the older Strangetown premades, but there's only about thirty or so of those."
Brent groans, placing his hands on his forehead, "We're going to be here all night, aren't we?" he wonders. Brent trails his hands down his face, a sim across the room catching his eye. The man is tall, elderly, and wearing a black and white classic tuxedo – a pair of spectacles resting on his nose and a sharp black and gray cane in his hands. The man has an Elvis-style haircut, except his hair is solid gray.
"Who is that, Mr. Peanut?" Brent asks, staring at the gentleman.
Breanna looks to the elderly man briefly before riffling through the papers on her clipboard once more. "According to the papers, that's Ichabod Specter. He was the only husband of Olive's to die of old age."
"No wonder," Brent comments, watching as Ichabod reaches into his pocket and pulls out his golden pocket watch; blowing on the cover gently before delicately brushing it off on his pants, "Who could say no to someone that classy? I mean, how could you say no to that face-?" Brent begins, noticing that Breanna is now raising her eyebrow at him, "Metaphorically speaking, of course," he corrects. Breanna 'ah's and nods in agreement.
Meanwhile: Back at the Beaker Estate
Pascal yawns from his tied up position as Loki continues to ramble on and on, bantering back and forth with his younger brother. Pascal turns to Lazlo, a bored exhausted look plastered on both of their faces as Loki continues to speak, a security camera aimed down at the scientists. "And you want to know why you could never be a successful supervillain like me?" Loki challenges Vidcund, leaning up against the cabinet in front of them.
Vidcund raises his eyebrow, "Because I don't have the proper goatee?" he strikes back. Next to him, Pascal breaks into laughter.
"Good one!" he praises.
Loki groans and slaps his face in frustration, swerving away from them for a moment to contain his sanity. Seeing this, Pascal turns to Vidcund, his facial expression snarky. "You know Vidcund, we should go easy on Loki, I mean, he's still a youngin'," he tells him. Loki turns around, placing his hands behind his back and clasping them together. He walks over to Pascal.
"Actually, I just turned thirty," he informs him.
"Ooh, happy birthday!" Pascal responds, seemingly excited by this news.
"Thanks," Loki replies, his tone not matching his apparent gratitude.
Pascal scrunches his forehead, a rather intriguing thought coming to his mind. "So, to be clear," he begins, "This whole 'taking over the world' thing isn't just your way of coping with the fact that you're getting old, is it? And that you haven't accomplished much?" Pascal adds on, "And that your wife had a kid with another man? I mean, I know it's insane that no one wanted to spread those genes around-"
"You really don't need to keep continuing, Pascal," Vidcund interrupts him, awkwardly sitting tied up next to his brother. Loki turns to Pascal, giving him a death glare.
"No," he growls.
"Well okay then, just checking," Pascal clarifies, breathing a sigh of relief. "Man, it feels nice to finally get that out in the open!"
Loki sighs and rolls his eyes, stepping forward once more. He leans down and makes eye contact with Vidcund. "Anyway, now that I've got you all here, it's time to plan your demise - Your Earl E. Demise!" he exclaims, laughing evilly at the sky.
The Curious brothers groan.
"I don't know what's worse: the mustache or the terrible attempts at humor," Pascal states to his brothers.
Vidcund turns to Pascal, looking as though his brother has lost his mind. "The mustache, is that even a question?" he asks. Vidcund redirects his attention to Loki, a feeling of determination circling through his entire body. "Threaten all you want Loki, but I'm not afraid of you!"
Loki chuckles a second time, holding his hand out in a claw shape in front of his face. He looks up at the ceiling again. "Please, you guys would run away from me the first chance you get. You guys are cowards – you always have been and you always will be!"
"He's got that right!" Pascal chimes in; Vidcund and Lazlo narrow their eyes at him, "What? He made a valid point!" he defends.
"You know, Loki. You and I aren't that different," Vidcund speaks up, immediately catching his rival's attention as Vidcund calmly continues with his sentence, "-except I'm not a TOTAL PSYCHOPATH!" Vidcund screams, the crazed tone of his voice echoing throughout the estate.
Loki smirks, stomping his foot down mere inches away from Vidcund's foot. "And that's why you'll always be a failure! You're weak, Vidcund. Science must be used for personal gain, otherwise it's a waste of a collection of thoughts and ideas!" Loki declares, eyeing Vidcund's narrowing stare. "Oh don't act so surprised. This is real advice coming from someone who didn't live with their mother until they were twenty!"
Vidcund continues to glare. "Oh don't be mad at me," Loki says, continuing to mock him, "It's not my fault that Circe didn't want to love a man who wet his pants at prom!"
"It's your fault she broke up with me!" Vidcund fires back.
Loki crosses his arms, slowly shaking his head in utmost pity. "Well, if she really liked you, then she wouldn't have broken up with you after the accident!" he claims.
Pascal turns to Vidcund, his argument surprisingly solid. "He does have a point there, Vid."
Vidcund redirects his glare to Pascal. "You stay out of this!" he speaks.
"Well, as much as I would love to continue chatting with you small brains for all eternity. I think it's time we finally go our separate ways," Loki states, heading towards the back counter.
Pascal perks up from his seat, "You're letting us go?"
"No, I'm going to kill you," Loki answers, rinsing out his hands and putting on a fresh pair of pink lab gloves, "I'll go get the death machine," he says, giving a snap in their direction. Loki leaves the room, causing Pascal and Lazlo to turn to Vidcund in a panic.
"Oh, would you look at that? He's going to kill us," Pascal calmly speaks out in the open, soothingly nodding his head up and down. "Wow, Loki's really matured so much in the last five years and – how the hell are we supposed to get out of this?!" Pascal yells, somewhat hysterical, as he turns back to Vidcund; his voice filled with frenzy.
"I don't know," Vidcund responds, his mind racing a mile a minute, "But don't worry, we'll think of something…"
All of a sudden, Circe walks into the room. Pascal and Vidcund intently watch as she walks over to the cabinet and pulls out various vials, clearly entranced by her. Lazlo sighs, shaking his head in pity as his two brothers continue to ogle Circe, just like old times.
"Vid, it's Circe," Pascal whispers next to him, air nudging Vidcund in the hopes of getting his attention. Vidcund raises his eyebrow.
"So?" he replies, his voice also in a whisper.
"So," Pascal clarifies, "Hit on her so we can get out of here!"
Vidcund rolls his eyes, letting out a heavy sigh. "I am not hitting on Circe!" he whisper hisses, "It's been years since we've been in a serious relationship!"
"Come on, we all know you're still doing her – so what's the difference?" he asks, "This could be the deciding factor between life or death! Sweet, peaceful death," Pascal sighs, silently shaking his head.
Vidcund looks down at the ground and sighs, realizing that he has no other choice. "Alright, fine, I'll do it. But you owe me," he informs him. Vidcund sits in silence for a moment, taking in the atmosphere around him as he attempts to collect his thoughts. After a little while he gazes up at Circe, who is busy at work in front of him. He takes a deep breath and exhales, allowing all of the nerves to escape from his body.
"Hey Circe?" Vidcund speaks up, both of his brothers intently watching his every move.
Circe turns around, the sound of his voice intriguing. "Oh hey Vidcund, I didn't see you there," Circe says, still preoccupied with the small electronic device that she is holding in her hands.
Vidcund turns to his brothers, who are both gesturing for him to move along quickly. Vidcund nods and turns his attentions back to Circe. "So uh," Vidcund begins, gazing around the room before locking eyes with Pascal, who is gesturing down at Vidcund's jacket. Vidcund nods and moves his arm up, positioning his backside on the bottom of his sleeve, trying to inch it off his shoulder. "Oh. Would you look at that? My jacket is coming off," he announces, struggling to get it under his shoulder. "Oop! There's one of my broad shoulders!"
Circe stops what she is doing and raises an eyebrow, crossing her arms over her torso. "Vidcund, this is pathetic."
"Pathetically hot," Vidcund adds, sporting his best sexy smirk as he raises his eyebrows up and down.
"Well, we're dead," Lazlo whispers, turning his head away from Vidcund's monstrous attempt at flirtation. He shakes his head.
Pascal scoots his chair forward, trying to get the young woman's attention. "Come on Circe, Vidcund looks pretty appetizing, doesn't he?" he asks, Vidcund appearing rather disturbed next to him. "I mean, you and I both know that you find my brother sexually appealing."
"Do we?" Circe states, raising an eyebrow.
"We do," Pascal confirms, pushing the back of Vidcund's chair forward with his foot, "So why don't you come and get him? Let yourself go!" Pascal exclaims, giving Vidcund one final push forward – the unbalanced force of the push causing Vidcund to fall backwards – both he and the chair crashing hard onto the floor.
He groans. "I probably deserved that," Vidcund declares, feeling imaginary birds circling above his head as the room starts to spin a bit. Circe goes over to him, crouching down next to the confused man, her hands placed on his knees. Vidcund lifts his head up a tad, the blood rushing to his head. "Circe?" he calls out, wonderingly.
Circe leans down, grabbing the sides of Vidcund's face. She lowers her voice in a whisper. "Just shut up and kiss me, you dork!" she commands, lust filling her eyes.
Vidcund looks to Lazlo, clearly taken off-guard, his look somewhat panicked. "Uh, just give me a second-oomf!" Vidcund squeaks as Circe thrusts herself upon him, straddling him with her legs as she forces her tongue into his mouth. Pascal and Lazlo look on in concern, raising their eyes at this rather daring, yet incredibly awkward, display. Circe continues to make out with him, though Vidcund appears to be surprisingly unresponsive.
Suddenly, Loki walks into the room, carrying a gigantic metallic laser gun in his heads; Pascal and Lazlo's eyes shift to pure horror, Lazlo eyeing Vidcund and Circe who are still making out on the floor. Loki places the laser down on the cabinet and begins riffling through the glass vails on top of the countertop, his back to them, completely oblivious to what is going on behind him. Pascal and Lazlo look to each other, exchanging puzzled and slightly weirded out glances.
"How?" Pascal mouths to Lazlo. His little brother shrugs.
"Clueless much?" he mouths back; Pascal nods, giving a silent chuckle.
Below him, Vidcund is still on the ground, a rather perplexed look on his face as Circe continues to kiss him. Finally sensing Loki's presence, she slowly gets up, wiping her lips off with a gentle swipe of her hand. Circe reaches down and slowly moves Vidcund's chair back up into its original position. She sneaks out of the room.
Vidcund sits in silence, staring off into space, his facial expression almost unreadable. "Huh," he speaks, deep in thought, though feeling surprisingly empty.
At last, Loki turns to them, his facial expression sinister towards his academic rivals. "I can't believe the day is here," Loki announces, eagerly clasping his hands together, "The day I finally kill all three of you and win the rivalry for good!" he exclaims, letting out a small sniff, "I promised myself I wouldn't cry. Now wait here 'til I get the ammo – oh wait, that's right, you guys have no choice!" Loki pretends to remember, throwing his head back in an evil laugh. He exits the room, causing the three Curious brothers to go into yet another serious panic.
"Well, I correct my previous comment, now we're dead for real!" Pascal claims in point.
"Yeah, probably," Vidcund states with a nod. Lazlo shakes his head.
"Don't worry guys, I have a plan," Lazlo tells them, Pascal and Vidcund raise their eyebrows at this news, "Just follow my lead," Lazlo instructs, watching as Loki walks back into the room, carrying a large supply of ammo and a pair of silver scissors in his hands.
Lazlo smirks and looks to his brothers, before turning to Loki. "You know Loki, you're so lucky," Lazlo begins, sporting a smile, "You actually got a chance to live your own life, you didn't have to be stuck with the same two people since the moment you were born!"
"Can it, Curious," Loki states, still trying to get the plastic wrap off the box of ammo.
"No, I mean it," Lazlo continues, "Every day it's the same old crap. I've spent fifteen years in this rivalry. Fifteen years of these two dragging me into this!" Lazlo exclaims, both Pascal and Vidcund tilting their heads in confusion, wondering where exactly he is going with this. Lazlo looks to Pascal and smiles. 'Fight back,' he mouths to him; Pascal nods, catching on.
"Hey! If you didn't want to be a part of it, you could've just said something!" he fake argues back.
"I did! Seventeen times!" Lazlo screams.
Pascal huffs, rolling his eyes up at the ceiling. "Well, you should've been more convincing! At least I actually tried to make your life more exciting! That's way more than anything you've done!" Pascal declares, "I see even after all of your complaints, you still have yet to contribute anything useful to our cause! It's like - 'Ooh, look at me! I'm Lazlo! I don't cause any problems in society!'" Pascal impersonates, scooting his chair towards him; he accidentally knocks over a box of tools behind him. It crashes to the floor.
Loki jumps a mile, dropping his scissors in the process. They land next to Lazlo's feet. "Calm down, you idiots!" Loki fires at them, storming towards Pascal and pushing the box of tools back into place, "You almost made me lose a foot!" he scolds them.
"Why would that be a bad thing? Pirates are cool!" Pascal informs him as Lazlo slides the scissors over to Vidcund with his foot. "Oh man!" Pascal groans, trying to keep Loki distracted and surprisingly succeeding. "Have I ever told you about the time I went to Guadeloupe?" Pascal questions, watching as Vidcund attempts to cut himself free behind Loki, "I was up on the mountains, and the meaning of life just came to me like a dove. And you want to know what it was?" Pascal asks him.
Loki shakes his head, "No, but I know you're just going to wind up telling me anyway, so I may as well hear it," he groans.
"Alright," Pascal nods, seemingly satisfied with Loki's answer, "The meaning of life is-"
Pascal stops short as Vidcund throws his arms forward, striking Loki with the box of ammo. He falls to the floor as Pascal looks down at him, clearly impressed. "Wow Vid, you really have been working out," he states.
Vidcund shakes his head, "Nah, I was just filled with vengeance."
Fifteen minutes later, Loki moans and slowly opens his eyes – finding himself tied to a chair, all three of the Curious brothers gazing down at him with big grins on their faces. "Sorry Beaker," Vidcund speaks up, "But you know what they say – there's only room for three geniuses in this town!"
"That explains why you're still here," Loki rebounds, a sassy grin spread across his face.
"Zing!" Lazlo exclaims, circling his hand up in point. Vidcund turns and glares at him, before the pair heads toward the exit.
Pascal goes to follow them, stopping to plant a sloppy kiss on the side of Loki's face, clearly trying to piss the villain off. "Muah!" he sounds, laughing a little before turning around and enthusiastically racing after his brothers.
Loki sits there dumbfounded.
Pascal, Vidcund, and Lazlo race into the hallway of the medieval-style castle, frantically scanning the area for any signs of an exit. "Found it!" Lazlo announces, pointing to the door located on the right back corner. He races over and swings it open, stopping when he spies a pair of black leather boots tapping angrily in front of him. Lazlo sweat-drops as Circe clears her throat, catching all three of the Curious brothers by surprise.
"Oh uh, hey Circe," Lazlo states, stepping away from the grown woman, who is staring them down. Circe crosses her arms in front of her chest, the walls bare behind her. "How-how are you?" Lazlo stutters, moving back towards his brothers.
Circe gives a nose grunt.
"She's mad – RUN!" Pascal declares as he and Lazlo take off sprinting down the hallway. Circe takes out her paralyzer gun; striking both of them in the back. They topple down in front of Vidcund; passing out on the floor.
Vidcund steps back a little, gaping at what Circe has just done. He gulps and steps back, Circe preying towards him. He slowly puts his hands up, frantically moving them in front of his torso; eyes wide. "Now Circe, you don't want to do this-" he tells her, "You and I are friends!" he pleads.
"Really?" Circe snarls, continuing to roam towards him, "Is that why you're cheating on me with this tramp?" she fires, holding up the photo booth pictures of him and Isabella in her hand; Vidcund's stomach churns at the sight of them.
"It's not what it looks like – she's just a friend," Vidcund attempts to inform her. He turns around, finding himself backed into a corner.
"Oh, she's just a friend, is she?" Circe repeats, rage filling the irises in her eyes, "Well soon she won't be anything to anyone. I'll make sure of it," she warns.
Vidcund steps back as far as he can go, feeling his heart rapidly beating in his chest. Thinking quickly, he pushes the button on the side of his headset; his hand shaking as he begins to speak. "Izzy! Izzy!" he shouts into it, "Whatever you do, stay away from-oomph!" Vidcund exclaims, Circe knocking him out cold. Around him, everything fades to black.
Across the estate, Isabella is grabbing the side of her headset, clearly worried. "Vidcund? Vidcund!' Isabella calls out, her voice filled with concern, but the only response she hears is static. "Oh no," she says, taking off her headset. Isabella's gaze drifts to the floor as tears well up in her eyes.
