Welcome to Slavestown

Chapter Seven

Kea and Isabella are still in the back room of the first floor of the Beaker estate, looking through their files. Isabella remains crouched down on the floor, gripping her headset in her hands, despair filling her face. Seeing her, Kea put down the manilla folder that she is holding and kneels next to her, placing a reassuring hand on her best friend's shoulder.

"Don't worry Izzy, I'm sure they're fine," Kea states, her voice warm and caring, "They're geniuses after all!"

"I know," Isabella replies, giving an uneasy swallow, "I just-I wonder what he was trying to tell me. Who am I supposed to stay away from?" she asks; her gaze wandering to Kea.

Kea shrugs, "Beats me. It's probably best to just play it safe and not trust anyone," she advises.

"Not even you?" Isabella asks.

"Especially not me! That chick is crazy!" Kea chimes, wiggling her fingers out in front of Isabella's face, "WooooOooohh!" she wails. Isabella smiles and lets out a small laugh.

"Alright. Now let's finish these files," she states. Kea nods as they both sit up from the floor and resume their original positions, each opening a new file.

"Hey, would you look at that?" Isabella speaks up, scanning over the folder in her hands, "According to this, Loki hates grapes," she announces, looking up at her friend for a moment, "Not sure why we would ever need to know that but…okay," Isabella completes with a shrug. She closes the folder and plops it down on the floor, reaching over to the filing cabinet on the adjacent wall to obtain another file.

Next to her, Kea carefully opens a letter that is sitting in the center of her folder. The letter is entitled 'Crazy Old Hag's Will.' Intrigued, Kea unfolds the letter and begins to read it over; stopping when she comes to the bottom paragraph. She gently closes it up and discreetly places it in her pocket, not saying a word.

"Well, I finished clearing out this cabinet," Isabella announces, turning back to Kea's side of the room, "Now all we have left to do is-" Isabella ceases for a moment, hearing a faint sound ringing in the background, "Hey, do you hear something?" she asks her. Kea pauses and listens, then shakes her head.

"Nope," she answers, "Unless it's the sound of my stomach growling…"

"No, it's not that," Isabella states, moving to the other side of the room towards the source of the sound. She presses her ear against the wall. "It almost sounds like crying," she comments; the realization hitting her like one of Kea's bacon stackers, "Oh my gosh, the kid!" Isabella chimes, racing over to the door.

Kea walks over to her, head tilted in confusion, "My kid?" she states, "Izzy, it's going to take another eight months until he comes out. And believe me, you don't want to be there for that."

"No, not your kid. Vidcund and Circe's kid!" Isabella responds, "The one Loki threatened to kill. She must be on the other side of this door!" Isabella exclaims, gesturing Kea over to her. "Come on, we need to get her out of here quick before they torture her!"

"Well alright," Kea agrees, moving over to the door and standing next to her friend, "As long as I don't have to change any diapers. I'll be doing plenty of that next year!"

Kea and Isabella look to each other and nod. Isabella gently grabs the doorknob and twists it; Kea slowly grabbing the side of the door as she does so. They both peer into the room. A small crib is nestled in the corner across from them as a few alien guards stand on guard in front of the crying baby.

Kea leans to the side, whispering softly in Isabella's ear, "Follow my lead," she instructs; Isabella nods. The pair slowly gets up as Kea animatedly enters the room, throwing her hands up in the hopes of making her presence know.

She stops nearby the alien guards, wrapping her arms around one of them. "Hey! It's you! It's this guy, this is my guy!" Kea exclaims, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a cheap disposable camera, the alien guards all staring at her strangely, "Get a picture with me and this guy!" Kea instructs Isabella, tossing the camera to her. Isabella catches it and presses the button, setting off the flash.

"AHH! MY CORNEAS!" Kea screams, throwing her hands over her eyes and stumbling around the room as she purposely knocks into things. "Oops!" she proclaims, knocking both sets of curtains off the wall; the rods coming down with them, knocking into the foes and temporarily blocking the guards' vision. "Come on!" Kea whisper-commands to Isabella, quickly reaching into the crib and grabbing the small child. They race out of the room, Isabella locking the door from the inside before slamming the door shut behind them.

Isabella and Kea stop and lean up against the wall, catching their breath. "I can't believe that actually worked," Isabella comments, leaning up against her best friend.

Kea smiles, "And they say you learn all your life skills in college," she states, shaking her head sassily, "Give me a break!"

Isabella grins and laughs, "Well you've certainly mastered your people skills."

Kea nods, holding up the baby that is in her arms, "What do you think, cutie?" she asks. Vanissa gazes wondrously around the room before giving out a small cheery noise. "Aww!" Kea states, pulling the child closer to her; Vanissa hiccups then vomits all over Kea. "Eww!" she reacts, holding the baby an arm's length away from her soiled body.

Isabella sweats, "Uh, we better get her to Jenny," she says, gently grabbing Vanissa from a grossed-out Kea and holding her in her arms.

Meanwhile: Circling the Road to Nowhere

Tank and his three-sim army are walking down the Road to Nowhere, scanning the city for any suspicious activity – though Tank is the only one that is staying on task. Behind him, General Buzz and Sheba Hugs are talking about a heated program that was airing on the Simystery Channel, Pollination Tech #9 is attempting to catch a butterfly with a glass jar, and the gladiator has vanished from sight. Tank stops walking and sighs when he turns around, shaking his head at his troops. He reaches to the side of his headset, pressing down the communication button.

"Izzy, it's Tank," he announces, distress in his voice, "Look, I gathered some troops, but they're not exactly the 'fighter' material that we're looking for," he states.

"Anyone that's willing to help Strangetown in its time of need is fighter material," Isabella's voice rings on the other end.

Tank sighs, throwing his free arm out in frustration, even though he knows that she cannot see it. "Izzy, you don't understand. The only people that volunteered so far are my dad and his robot and Pollination Tech #9 – and trust me, they do anything but fight," he informs her, "We did have this gladiator woman help us for a little while, but then she wandered off to who knows where," Tank states, his voice trailing off a bit as he tells her this.

"Tank! No wonder you're having trouble! It sounds like you haven't even asked the best fighter in the neighborhood yet!" Isabella exclaims, her voice sounding somewhat surprised by this news.

Tank scrunches his forehead, clearly puzzled, "Who's that?" he asks.

A few minutes later Tank is standing in front of a large fighting dojo, the white bricked building standing mightily in front of him. Tank steps forward and knocks on the door. Gramma, Isabella's grandmother, answers it; her face lights up when she sees him.

"Tank! I didn't know you were still around," Gramma chimes, pulling him into a hug, "It's good to see you."

"Thanks," Tank nods, carefully looking down at the name that he was written down on a card. "The reason why I'm here is because I'm recruiting people to join my army to take back the city," he informs her, "And I was told that the best fighter in Strangetown is at this dojo. So, do you know anyone by the name of Annabelle?" he asks.

Gramma eXtreme smiles, gently clasping her hands together, "Why yes," she says with a delicate smile, "And you're looking at her."

Tank steps back, eyeing the grandmother strangely. "Wait, you're Annabelle?" he repeats, "Not to be rude, but are you sure that aren't any other Annabelles in there or-?"

"No, I'm the only one," Gramma answers, waving her hand in front of her torso, "But I'm not interested in fighting. These days I only think of combat as a casual sport," she tells him.

Tank smiles and nods, "Look Gramma, I get it. You're eighty-seven years old," Tank begins; Gramma's face scrunching up at this comment as she places a hand on her hip, "Your muscles are tired and have most likely deteriorated over the years, and you're probably not used to-"

Gramma punches the wall next to Tank; completely disintegrating it before his very eyes. Tank looks down at the pile of sawdust, before gazing back up at Gramma, clearly astonished.

"You're in!" he declares.

Meanwhile: Back at the Beaker Estate

Pascal, Vidcund, and Lazlo find themselves back in their original predicament – though this time their chairs are all chained down to the floor, with Circe and Loki missing from the room. "Let's get ourselves captured by Loki," Pascal reminisces, "It'll be easy to get out!" Pascal reminds his brother mockingly, "Great idea, Vid!" he shouts, turning angrily towards him, "Next time, why don't we just give him the gun too, so we can save ourselves some trouble?"

"Look, I got more than enough to feel guilty about as it is, can you please quit rubbing it in?" Vidcund counters.

Pascal nods, finding this request reasonable. "Okay," he promises, "But can we all agree that Circe is completely nuts? I mean, who makes out with someone then tries to kill them five minutes later?"

"-Apparently Circe," Lazlo points out matter-of-factly.

Vidcund groans. "She's always been like that, why would I expect anything different?" he says, mentally kicking himself, "I'm such an idiot!" Pascal and Lazlo exchange worried glances with one another, then turn to Vidcund sympathetically.

"Hey Vid, don't be so hard on yourself," Pascal states, attempting to ease his pain a little, "You didn't know she was going to try to kill us," he states, "You were enamored with her for so long you didn't know what to believe," Pascal continues, "But as your brother it's only right for me to tell you that you deserve someone who loves you and isn't afraid to tell people about it," he says. Behind him, Lazlo is giving a small nod, "You're so much more than a side piece, Vid. I wish you'd start seeing that."

Vidcund looks down at the ground in silence, allowing himself to slowly take all of this in. After a moment, he looks back up at Pascal, clearly moved by his words. "You're a very smart man, Pascal," he talks out into the open. "And I'm sorry that I got you guys into this mess. But I'm afraid that not even Einstein himself could get us out of this. – You know, if he was a sim," he clarifies, easing his brothers' confused glances. They nod in understanding, watching as a shadowy figure appears at the bottom of the doorway. They trail their eyes to the floor, knowing that their time has come.

The person pounds repeatedly on the door, ramming a sharpened object through the middle of it. The Curious brothers look up, this action catching their attentions. "What the hell-?" Vidcund states, watching as the person makes a hole in the center of the door. They put their hand through it and twist the doorknob opening the door. The person walks in, dressed head to toe in a black and red gladiator suit. The Curious brothers continue to stare at the figure, confused yet terrified at the same time.

The gladiator walks into the room and stops in front of Lazlo, kneeling in front of him, repeatedly pointing their fingers in excitement when they see him. Lazlo sweat drops, gazing to his brothers through the corners of his eyes. "Well, this is the weirdest thing that's happened all day," he comments.

"Really?" Pascal objects, "We're not even going to mention the fact that we sang and danced to a Spice Girls song to catch Loki's attention?"

Vidcund lifts his head up towards the ceiling and groans, "Would you please stop mentioning that?" he states.

"I'll stop mentioning that as soon as it stops being relevant – which is NEVER!" Pascal exclaims, his voice transitioning into a terrifying snarl, "So, what's up with you guys?" he calmly says, his voice returning to its original friendly register.

"Uh…guys?" Lazlo speaks up, gesturing to the gladiator who is slowly standing up, finally finished with their random victory dance. The gladiator reaches up and removes their helmet, letting her long blonde hair fall at her sides.

"Lazlo!" Crystal Vu exclaims, resting her helmet against her hip, "I knew it was you saving the city! I recognized the proton accelerators!"

Lazlo's face lights up, undoubtedly happy to see her. "You did?" he responds, beaming.

Crystal nods, "Of course! I've been looking for you guys all day," she tells them, "I heard you guys were coming back and I wanted to help, so I joined Tank's army and tracked the location of your headsets' radio waves until I found you," she informs them, stopping to catch her breath, "I would've come sooner, but it's been difficult to navigate around here since I started causing trouble."

"You must've done a lot, considering your face is on a 'If you see me, kill' poster," Vidcund notes; Pascal nodding in agreement.

Crystal crosses her arms, "Well, if he didn't want trouble, then he shouldn't be killing innocent sims," she states, "Maybe he'll think that the next time I punch him in the face!" she declares, her voice getting dark. "Anyway, let's get you out of here," she chimes, crouching in front of Lazlo. She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a small metallic device, which resembles a simple pair of scissors.

"You can cut through metal?" Lazlo ponders as Crystal circles behind him.

Crystal smiles, "I can cut through anything," she declares, pushing her bodyweight down on the device.

"Hey! You modified the Snippy Snip!" Pascal notices, eyeing his dear metallic friend.

Vidcund shakes his head, somewhat embarrassed, "I still can't believe you called it that," he groans.

Next to him, Crystal has finished cutting through the chain lock and is circling the loose chains around Lazlo's chair, trying to unwrap him as quickly and efficiently as she can. "I'll have you out in a minute, my love," Crystal announces, untangling the chains faster.

"Just to tell you, I'm going to kiss your face once you're done with this," Lazlo promises, both of them staring longingly at each other.

"Look, I like Crystal and I appreciate what she's doing for us, but can I just say – oh barf," Vidcund comments, watching as Crystal throws the remainder of the loose chains off Lazlo before the pair unites in a passionate display of affection.

"Whoo Lazlo! You go girl!" Pascal cheers nearby, watching as the pair continues to kiss one another. Vidcund turns to him, a confused and very disturbed look on his face, "What?" Pascal speaks. Vidcund shakes his head and groans.

Five minutes later, the four of them are standing in the center of the room, free of all chains. "Okay, so now what?" Lazlo asks, stepping further into the circle.

"I don't know," Pascal speaks up, "Honestly, I didn't think we were going to make it this far."

"Well, I don't know about you guys, but I should probably go back out there and help Tank," Crystal informs the brothers, "He looked like he could use all the help he could get," she comments. Pascal and Lazlo nod then look up at Vidcund, awaiting further instruction.

"So Vid, what are we doing, huh?" Pascal asks him, eagerness in his voice, "Infiltrating the estate? Going after Beaker? Pranking Circe to get back at her for trying to kill us?" he suggests.

Vidcund sighs, having a hard time making eye contact with his eldest brother. "Actually Pascal, I think you guys should go with Crystal."

"What?" Pascal squeaks, his hand on his chest, "No, no, no, you can't split from us!" he exclaims, pressing further, "Who's going to make sure I don't do anything stupid?"

"-A very valid question," Lazlo states in point. Crystal nods.

"Look, I really appreciate how helpful all of you have been during this mission, but the only way I'll be able to live with myself is if I take Loki out on my own," Vidcund tells them with a heavy heart. "I caused it, I fix it – it's only fair," Vidcund adds.

"And does it look like any of us care who caused this? Vidcund, we're a team!" Pascal says, putting a brave foot forward, "It's the Curious brothers, not the Curious brother-" Pascal begins, stopping to ponder the analogy he just spoke. Vidcund raises his eyebrow. "Okay, maybe that wasn't the best analogy, but you know what I mean!" Pascal attempts to clarify; Vidcund nods. "Vidcund, I've known you your entire life, and if we're going to screw this up and send this whole thing under, then we're going to do it together."

Vidcund's gaze drifts to the floor as he releases a heavy sigh. "I'm sorry Pascal, but for once in my life, I will have to do this alone," he states, reaching over to the cabinet and pulling out a third of the supplies that Loki confiscated from them previously. Vidcund heads towards the doorway, stopping to turn around and gaze at his friends. "Goodbye my brothers, and good luck," he solemnly states, giving them a small salute before turning around and heading out the door.

"Goodbye Vid," Lazlo responds, slowly lowering his hand in sorrow. The three of them stand in silence for a bit, before Crystal steps forward, placing her helmet back on her head.

"Well, I should probably be going," Crystal announces, adjusting the helmet, "I wouldn't want to keep Tank empty handed," she explains, backing up towards the door, "Just ring me if you need any help, you know my number!" With that, Crystal waves and exits the premises, leaving Pascal and Lazlo alone. Pascal shuffles his feet as Lazlo whistles awkwardly, unsure once again of what to do next.

"Maybe we could help Izzy and Kea," Lazlo states into the silence.

"Yeah," Pascal nods, though he appears to be missing his usual pep. He takes a step backwards, accidentally knocking into a nearby closet. The door squeaks open as a bunch of black hooded cloaks and uniforms fly out, scattering onto the floor. Pascal and Lazlo undercover their heads and slowly step forward, examining the rather odd pieces of clothing, filled with utmost intrigue.

Pascal reaches down and picks up one of the cloaks, gazing at it more closely. He holds it in front of his torso and looks down at the outfit. "You know, if I didn't know any better I would say that these uniforms almost look like-" Pascal stops, his face lighting up into a smile. "-Cult uniforms," he completes, tightening his grip on the black fabric as his smile grows even bigger as it fills with even more excitement.

"-Oh no," Lazlo begins, eyeing his older brother, "Don't even think about it. We are not joining a cult! Do you have any idea what cult life is like? Do you have any idea the kinds of things that they would do to people like us?! Do you?!" Lazlo exclaims hysterically.

"Relax, we're not actually joining it," Pascal replies, waving a hand in front of his face. Next to him, Lazlo gives a sigh of relief. "We're just going to dress up like we're cult members, gain their trust, and destroy the entire operation from the inside!" Lazlo face-palms.

"Pascal, this is a terrible idea!" Lazlo informs him, "You of all people should know that there is no logical way that this plan would ever work. Like ever," Lazlo re-emphasizes, throwing his hands up, "It would be a disaster just waiting to happen!"

Pascal shakes his head, the small smile on his face suggesting that he wasn't buying it. "Come on Lazlo, this is my dream," Pascal chimes.

Lazlo scrunches his forehead, tilting his head in confusion. "Your dream is to join your enemy's cult and attempt to turn them against him all at the risk of getting yourself killed?" he asks him.

Pascal nods, "Edgy, right?" he states. Lazlo rolls his eyes.

He sighs, "I should refuse, but I know I'm just going to end up doing this anyway so – let's do it," Lazlo concludes, throwing his fist forward, trying to sound as enthusiastic as possible.

"Sweet! Now put this on-" Pascal instructs, throwing a matching black hooded cloak to go with the uniform that he is holding, "-We have a cult to infiltrate!"

A Short While Later - Back at the Safe House

"-Alright, thanks," Brent says, hanging up the Resurrect-O-Nomitron for what felt like the hundredth time that day. Breanna enters the room and races over to him, her hair messed up and circles under her eyes.

"Brent, you've got to come quick!" Breanna cries, clearly out of breath, "It's total chaos downstairs, and I can't seem to figure out how to get things under control! We gotta hurry before someone gets hurt!" She exclaims. Brent nods and rapidly follows her down the stairs, being cut off by a few sims along the way.

"Oh my gosh! She's going to kill us! She's going to come here and kill us, I just know it!" Earl E. Demise screams, twirling around in a panic, "I don't want to die again!"

"Relax," Earl's brother, Tim Lee, states, his arms crossed in front of his body, "Can't be as bad as the first time!"

Brent moves swiftly around them, dodging Melissa Sims and Luc Smith who are smustling in the center of the floor. "Excuse me," he states, stepping between them.

Mary Melons stops in front of Brent; blocking his path and pulling him into a back-breaking hug. "Come here son and hug your great grandmother!" she chimes, pushing his face into her breasts.

Brent patiently pushes his head away from the cheerful elder. "Sorry to disappoint you, Mary, but you're not my great grandmother - you're Ripp's," he clarifies, "Hey, what was your last name again?" he asks.

"Melons," she answers with a smile.

Brent shakes his head in pity, "I'm so sorry," he states.

"Brent, come on!" Breanna calls out from across the room, gesturing him towards her, "There's a fight breaking out!"

"Oh geez," Brent speaks up, "Sorry, but I gotta go," he says, waving goodbye to Mary and racing towards the opposite end of the room where sure enough, two sims are fighting.

"You're such a crumbum, Glarn!" a young female sim with red shoulder length hair yells, pointing at the Curious brothers' father, "How could you leave me with the girls just so you could run off and marry her?" she snarls, pointing across the room at an elderly woman who has a vastly similar appearance to her own. The red-haired woman steps forward, fire in her eyes, "I oughta punch you in your big, stupid face!"

"Oh, you're going to punch me in the face, huh? That's real mature!" Glarn shouts back, "My only regret was leaving my kids with such a crappy role model!" The woman gasps as Brent holds down the button on the side of his headset.

"Hey Vid, out of curiosity, do you know if your father has any enemies?" Brent asks him.

"Well, the only person I can think of is-" Vidcund's voice briefly stops on the other end, before picking back up again, "Oh no, you didn't resurrect Glabe, did you?"

Brent steps forward, watching the verbal fight continue in front of him. "Uh…is Glabe a young-looking woman with long red hair?"

"Yes," Vidcund voice rings back.

Brent sweat drops, gently shifting his body weight onto his heels, "Well then…"

"Brent…" Vidcund's states, his voice filled with uncertainty and fear. Brent is silent for a few moments, allowing the realness of the situation to hit the Curious brother hard. "Oh my gosh, you resurrected Glabe?!" Vidcund cries. "Why did you do that?"

"Hey, I just did what was instructed," Brent informs him, "I mean, how was I supposed to know about your father's secret past involving another family with a crazy woman?" he asks, a crash heard a few feet away from him. "Uh, I gotta go!" Brent tells him, releasing his finger from the button. He races over to Glarn and Glabe, who are now physically fighting each other on the floor. "Oh geez," Brent comments, stepping into the fight and trying to separate them. Glabe pushes him down.

Brent groans, lying sprawled out on the floor, his arms above his head. "And I thought this was going to be the easy job," he moans. Brent shrieks as an elderly woman pops into view, holding a lavender stuffed bunny up to his face.

"Do you like Randoulf?" she asks, cheerfully hugging the stuffed animal to her chest, "Sometimes he speaks to me when I'm standing in the darkness," the woman states, exposing her shiny white teeth. She smiles as she pulls Brent up, her hands covered with brightly colored bangles.

"I'm Kitty," she says, still holding her hand out, an overly enthusiastic expression on her face.

"Uh-huh," Brent nods, not sure exactly what to make of this woman. "That's great-"

"I have kids!" Kitty cuts off, her face beamingly, "And I have lots of friends and I love going in caves, ooh! And getting my fortune told! Margaret Collins is my favorite teller to go to, but I haven't been there in a while since I've been dead," Kitty continues on. She stops and stares off at the wall behind him.

Brent slowly gets up from off the ground, attempting to step away from the seemingly crazy woman, who is now staring intently at his shirt. "Is that blue?" she asks, not bothering to wait for Brent's answer, "Blue is my favorite color, though I also enjoy topaz – the birthstone for November. My son's birthday is in November…I think," Kitty says, tapping her fingers up against her chin in a ponder, "Actually, I don't remember, that was back in my bubble haircut days. You should definitely wash that shirt though, because it is filthy!" Kitty instructs Brent, crossing her arms in front of her chest and shaking her head.

"Right, I'll get right on that," Brent states, slowly backing away from Kitty and racing across the room. He crouches behind Breanna, attempting to hide himself from the woman's view. "And I thought Kea was nuts, but at least she's nuts in the adorable way," he comments; Breanna raises her eyebrow. "Never mind that, you got to hide me from that woman, she's level ten crazy!" he whisper-exclaims.

"Crazier than him?" Breanna counters, pointing to Knut Futa, who is chewing on the side of an arm chair as a group of Loki's relatives all cheer him on, before bursting into a chorus of evil laughter.

Brent groans, "Why is everyone in this town a lunatic?"

"Well, it is called Strangetown for a reason," Breanna responds, raising an eyebrow, "Though if one didn't know any better, this whole thing could be mistaken for a weird ritual." Brent moves up, eyeing his fiancé strangely, "Hey, I did say weird ritual," she reiterates.

"Ahh," Brent states, nodding his head in understanding, stopping when he notices a young maid dusting the bottom of his shoe with a feather duster. She smiles and looks up at him; Brent's eyebrow raised.

"Hi," she greets, standing up in place and holding up her feather duster. "I'm Jessica," she says. "I used to work for Olive before – well, you know," she states.

Brent nods, "I think I have an idea," he answers, turning slightly away from Jessica. "Man, we really need to give these people something to do," Brent whispers to Breanna, "-And quick," he adds, staring at the group of townies who are playing kicky bag across the room – a crowd of sims booing their skills behind them.

Brent sighs and shakes his head, "This is going to be a long night."