I Play Sims Asylum (part10)

Aww, just a couple of besties, heading to see their fish friends together. Great way to start the day.

Unlike Greg's plan, which is to drink a whole tray of coffees for breakfast.

As you'd suspect, it puts him in a certain kind of mood ... about fish.

His temperament just rubs off on everyone else, causing Eve to launch into a punitive rant about her favorite beast.

Her raucous speech encourages Husbro to grumble at Rev about dishes.

This really only loops back and encourages Greg to start up again, with Statler and Waldorf-style commentary.

Which he should know better than to attempt at such an early hour, as the exertion always gets him.

The resulting schadenfreude only riles Husbro again - this time, he turns his attention to letting me know his true feelings.

Then just starts gnawing on my favorite shoulder.

I leave. Nobody has time to be all chomped up on when there's always standing in another place to do.

Besides, it's time to get into bathing suits and accept some physical abuse from my best friend Bunny Walker.

Aww, don't cry, Arthur Derrick - grilling is hard. I just don't understand why you grilled the buns, too.

Cory, I'm sure it's a bad idea to find the biggest bowl of something burnt and covered in flies to have for dinner.

Rev took one look at her bowl and dropped it immediately on the floor.

I think it's time to finally test out this makeover station. Husbro, what are you staring at?

For that matter, what am I staring at.

Oh dear. What have I done?

Why do I want someone to feed me a dirty tin can? What's happening here?

They must be adjusting our medications again.

I'm so wrapped up in my dirty cans, I haven't even noticed that Cory isn't around anymore.

Or that there's a new guy outside - some sort of octopus enthusiast - wearing both a baseball cap and a crown.

Arthur Derrick's noticed him, though.

He can't be that bad, Arthur Derrick. That crown is rather zazzy.

Welcome, Lord Sweets. Good luck with everything.

There's a lot of this going on, for example.

Okay, well, there's no rule that says you have to dance. Just try not to pass out in a pool of your own urine.

Fine then, go ahead and piss yourself. It's your funeral.

(You might remember "Lord Sweets" from such things as being my friend Clayton, as well as looking like Khloe Kardashian when I put him in a Drita D'avanzo wig. He's obviously very tolerant of my nonsense.)


I Play Sims Asylum (part11)
.