2-4: The Frat Boy Belues

THREE CHEERS FOR DAD PUNS!

Tobias would approve. 

ANYWHO…

“I’m putting my bags upstairs,” Berkley had said, “and then we’re remodeling the house. Before you know it, this place is going to be wild. Party fuckin’ central.”

“Wild?” Bender choked. “I didn’t come to college to party. I came here for the alcohol. And besides, why in the fuck are you at my house? And what did you do to your hair?”

“Same difference,” snorted Berkley. “I’m not going to let you push me around anymore, Bender. I can’t afford rent by myself in my place, you can’t afford it by yourself at your place, so I’m moving in. To your place. And my hair kicks ass, thank you very much. It just needs a little tweaking.”

“You’ll like it a lot better,” Berkley said. “Your life is way too boring.”

“Not after a bottle of vodka!” protested Bender.

“You have a problem,” Berkley snorted. “I’m going to call the builders. In the meantime, why don’t you work on getting some more frat members? The more, the merrier!”

“Where the fuck are you getting the money?”

“This is where my scholarship’s going. I’m here for the experience; fuck the education.”

Bender thought this was a ridiculous idea, but said nothing. Why pay thousands of dollars if you weren’t getting an education? Somehow, she’d gotten even dumber over the years. Brilliantly stunned, he stood silent as his twin marched up the front steps. Where had Berkley gone? When had she gotten the notion that she was better than him? Sighing, he decided to call Starla. She’d come over and fix him up a drink, and perhaps Berkley would come to her senses by the end of the evening.

Berkley smiled in the mirror. She had never felt so powerful, so alive. She’d come prepared to play civil, but as usual, her talk with Bender turned out the opposite. Her redecorating was amazing, though, she thought. He had no right to sulk! She was particularly impressed with the party room. That bubble blower had cost quite a wad, but she was sure the money could be found again. Bender, the scholar, brought at least a thousand each time he made the Dean’s List. What a nerd.

With Berkley’s additions, party hoppers had already crashed on the couch. Outside, Starla  had answered Bender’s phone call, and slowly climbed the front steps. “Bender?” she called.

“Come upstairs!” he replied. “And watch out for the llama!”

“I’m a cow!” huffed the mascot.

“We owned cats,” apologized Berkley. “And nobody was really into Animal Planet. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got business to attend to.”

Bewildered, Starla opened the front door. Her eyes widened at the unusual house guests, and then settled on the staircase. Before heading to the second floor, however, Starla was pushed outside by a jubilant Berkley.

“So you’re the girlfriend?” asked Berkley, grinning sheepishly. “I’m Berkley-the twin.”

“I didn’t know Bender had a twin,” said Starla, stumbling over her words. “Your hair-it’s amazing!”

“Did it an hour ago,” smiled Berkley. “Anyway, just head upstairs. Bender’s sulking.”

“Am fucking not!” shouted Bender from the upstairs window.

Laughing, Starla glanced at Berkley, rolling her eyes and entering the house. She ignored the cow and ascended the stairs, a grin spreading across her face. Despite what they said, she wasn’t a home schooled freak. Admittedly, she had been a bit sheltered, but this Bender had forgiven. He’d forgiven a lot of things-her clumsiness, inexperience, strange obsession with garden gnomes. It began to dawn on her that perhaps he was not this forgiving of everyone.

She was met with a careful, tender kiss. Bender’s muscles, fierce and tense, relaxed as she put her hands on his shoulders, willing him to calm down. This, however, was impossible.

Pulling away, Bender began to shout. “She has no idea what the fuck she’s doing!” he growled. “If she brings too much attention, they’re going to show up, and you know what? I’m going to get pounded in the ass, and be force fed sobriety for life. Fuck, Starla, you’ve got to help me!”

Though slightly curious about his alleged crimes, Starla promised Bender she’d give Berkley a stern talking to, and grab him a drink. With the remodeling, Berkley had added a bar, hoping to appease her brother. Starla hoped this would appease him, too.

“Shit!” hissed Bender. “It kind of burns. Fuck you, Berkley!”

Quit sucking it up like a vacuum then. Sips of water between, Bender, sips between.

“Hey, Starla!” giggled Berkley, mouth squeezing out sweet, sweet bubbles. “Wanna join me?”

Starla began to cross the floor to the bubble blower.

“Let’s go upstairs,” Bender said quickly, grabbing Starla’s arm. “Shut your ugly mouth, Berkley.”

Starla followed, though she vowed to give the bubble blower a whirl later.

Girls understood other girls, didn’t they? Bender wondered to himself. Girls could control each other, right? Well, obviously, if most of them were dumb enough to be swayed by diamond rings and expensive things. If Starla could get his dumbass sister back to normal, he could avoid prison, drink six cold ones a day, and continue free wheeling to his law degree in peace and Starla. With this in mind, he popped his first big question. “Do you want to move in with me?”

“Sure!” Starla grinned. “You and your sister are awesome; this’ll be great.”

His sister. Bender sighed. Fuck her, fuck her, fuck her! When he built his robot, he’d sic it on her first.

“I just have to do something downstairs really quick,” said Starla, “and then I’ll be back up.”

Her first stop was the mirror. She had to be cute, she thought, like Berkley. Funky. Spontaneous. A bottle rocket of instantaneous energy and whimsical ideas. At the moment, she was only Starla. A sheltered, careful girl from the suburbs of Downtown. She had to leave that behind. If not for herself, then for Bender, for his immeasurable sister.

She coughed at her first inhale, before breathing deeply and diving headfirst into artificial euphoria. Without thinking, only doing-oh, the doing!-she shakily climbed to her feet and stumbled up the stairs.

“I want you to take me,” she giggled, falling onto the bed. Bender, who was still sulking, raised his eyebrows.

“Take you where?” he slurred, leaning over. “We can’t afford a fucking car, now can we?”

“You don’t need a car to take me where I want to go.”

Bender fell sideways, startled. Her smile, her bloodshot eyes-it reminded him of a movie they’d shown him in elementary school. The same, demonic glee shone from her eyes as had in eyes of the transvestite, eyebrow suggestively cocked, as he’d declared the evening’s meal. “We’re having meat loaf!” he had shouted. Starla seemed very hungry for some meat, Bender thought, though she did not seem to be quite in her right mind. He wasn’t quite sure if he wanted to give it up like this.

Another gulp of whiskey seemed to do the trick. Who was he to refuse his body’s callings? Virginity was only a human concept, anyway.

Heat, clumsy, hazy heat enveloped Bender and his lover, lost in the flames of their own intimacy.

“WOOOOO!” screamed Bender. “GIMME SOME OF THAT JACK DANIELS, BABY!”

Hahaha, wouldn’t it be funny if they started breaking some headboards? Go all closeted Cullen on that thing.

On second thought, how about not.

Downstairs, Berkley cringed, and burst out giggling.

She giggled almost hysterically, raising her head to the ceiling. “Shit, Bender needs some of this,” she laughed, “he’d forget about that damn whiskey and putting Jesass in that manger. Whiskey. Whis-kay. Whis-koo.”

She drifted off to a deep sleep, awakening to find that Starla had made breakfast for her. Surprised and slightly groggy, Berkley sat down to eat.

“So why’d you come to college?” asked Berkley.

“To get away from home.”

“Shit, me too!” grinned Berkley, flailing her fork like a dancing fish. “High school is boring as hell, though not as boring as my sister. She’s a dead rock, I swear!”

“You have a sister?” exclaimed Starla.

“Half. Half sister. She just kisses girls and complains about her grades all of the time,” laughed Berkley. She paused, dropping her fork. “Wait a minute-I hear people outside!”

Starla was hazy on the details, but somehow she had ended up mouth glued to the bubble blower, floating in a literal high, spread out three feet off the floor. “Berkley, look at me!” she giggled. “I’m Superman!”

“Bender!” she called. “Put down that vodka and try this! It is won-der-ful! I’ve got no kryptonite!”

Bender was at class, learning about the chemical trappings of the human mind, and wishing for the aforementioned bottle of vodka to appear under his desk. Starla didn’t seem to notice.

“Shit man,” laughed Track Suit, “my eyesight’s all cloudy! Geddit? Like outside? Instant classic!”

A new man had appeared in the room, however, and Berkley couldn’t help but check him out.

Ashley (The name’s Ash. Housewares. :D) was a little bit loony. Having been raised as a “natural born badass,” or so his parents described him, he had a deep love for guns, breasts, and daytime television. He was majoring in physics, which he had declared as the only hardcore subject offered at Sim State. He minored in ass kicking.

Berkley found his lack of stability to be fairly charming.

“Call me for a good time,” she smiled, tumbling forward.

Ashley was flattered, but announced, in a weathered, gruff voice, that he had somewhere more important to be: a wrestling match with Bigfoot. “And I’m going to kick his pansy ass!” he gloated.

“Just gimme some of that next time! After I kick his ass, of course!”

Makes me wish Free Time was on Mac so this could actually happen 😦

Suddenly, Berkley remembered that she had class that evening.

She passed Starla on the way out, saying a brief hello. Starla grinned in return. It was the start of an odd, if dynamic, friendship.

“Knee length?” squinted BBC (short for blonde, barbaric cheerleader). “The hell does that even mean?”

“Your stupidity makes me happy,” said Bender, smiling for the first time this whole damn chapter.

In the morning, Ashley decided to stop by, and was met by the welcoming committee. He was not amused. “POINT YOUR MOVES SOMEWHERE ELSE!” cried Ashley.

Thankfully, Berkley arrived, already out of sorts.

“Hi,” she giggled, leaning in close, and then skipping away, gesturing grandly to the front door. “My brother’s at class, and his bed is open!”

Ashley, never a man to turn down free sex, eagerly obliged.

GET SOME!

Sliding under the covers, body slick and oiled with glorious sweat, she felt a deep satisfaction. Losing her virginity in her brother’s bed was a sweet, sweet revenge.

“Gimme some sugar, baby,” breathed Ashley.

I totally couldn’t resist. I mean, his name’s Ashley! He’s just begging for a chapter of Army of Darkness references!

“Hail to the king, baby!”

GOT SOME.

“Makes me feel filthy just thinking about it!” huffed BBC.

Berkley was too busy having her breasts stared at to notice.

In the meantime, a smelly Bender and a hospital bound Starla beat each other to a pulp. It’s not wife beating if she’s not my wife! thought Bender, relieved. He didn’t need another reason to be sent to prison.

As Starla got herself an ice pack, Bender finally decided to give the bubble blower a whirl, joined by BBC and a llama.

“So trains,” he laughed, “would be, like, really fucking cool if they had faces, haha. AND FOUGHT GIANT ROBOTS.”

“What’s a train?” asked BBC.

The llama neighed.

Bored, Bender decided that he’d rather have a drink, and crossed the room to the bar.

“PRAIIIISE THE LAWD!” screeched BBC. “OF SIM STATE UNIVERSIIIIITY! GOOOOOO TEAAAAM!”

Bender had a half a mind to throw his drink in her face, but decided a lie would work better, instead. “There’s a vampire strip show at The Crypt,” he said, “right now. It’s pirate themed. Space pirate. You know how you like those space pirates, right BBC?”

“Space pirates!” she cheered, leaping up and down. “BBC, over and out!”

Relieved, Bender joined Starla in the kitchen.

As Bender and Starla sat down to eat, Berkley showed Ashley her favorite past time. He was quite taken with it. The bubble blower, as Ashley liked to say, was not for pussies.

“So Berkley’s been showing me all of these great things,” said Starla, a glass perched in her hand. “That bubble blower? Amazing.”

Bender sighed, wishing she’d think about him instead of his sister for once. With BBC and Berkley hanging around, women were really beginning to become sour for him-even Starla, for whom he was fearing the worst. His feelings for her were dangerously strong.

“Let’s just fucking drink, okay?” snapped Bender.

“Beat you to it!” said Starla, smiling.

It was times like these that he both loved and feared her. It was a dreadful combination, thought Bender. He preferred his alcohol. It was something for him to feel consistent about. That and not wanting to go to prison.

“You gave me these flowers,” began Bender, a new, wild, and incredibly doable idea entering his head. This would keep him out of prison for sure. Nobody wanted to arrest a family man.

In reality, I discovered the cutest interaction known to the Sims series, and I just had to do it, because why the hell not?

Don’t answer that question.

“So I’m going to give you this motherfucking ring!”

AHHH CUTEST INTERACTION EVER 😀 *explodes*

“You’re excited, right? Shit, I hope you’re excited. I really need a drink, oh shit.”

“OHMYGAWD! BENDER, ARE YOU SERIOUS?!”

“Well, I’d sure fucking hope so.”

“I’d never thought you’d would want to marry someone like me,” whispered Starla, tears brimming in her eyes.

“Well, get used to it,” said Bender, “because I guess my action queue says I do.”

“Does this mean you love me?” she asked, slipping the ring on her finger.

Bender didn’t reply.

“I AM SO EXCITED!”

Without another look at his fiancé’s engagement ring, Bender fled the house. Some dumbass scheduled the final exam of his freshman year for midnight.

Something feels very sketchy about this. If he offers you any powder, Bender, just say no!

“Bender asked me to marry him,” said Starla, slightly appalled and slightly intrigued by Berkley’s table manners. “I said yes.”

“Did he?” asked Berkley, shoving a spoonful of spaghetti into her mouth. “Well, I lost my virginity today.”

“Sure did, baby!” shouted Ashley, looking up from his book.

“Now the president has this thang called a cabinet, and that’s where he stores his cutlery.”

BBC, who let you in again?

“To that guy?”

“Sure!” said Berkley indignantly. “He’s ripped as hell!”

Starla shrugged.”He’s nothing like Bender.”

“Thank god!” laughed Berkley. “I don’t want anyone like Bender.”

An awkward silence descended.

“When Bender gets his dean’s check, do you want to go shopping?”

“For clothes?” asked Starla.

“Of course!” Berkley smiled. “I’m sure Bender’d like something a bit sexier, don’t you?”

Starla thought on this for a moment before answering. “You mean to tell me that black flip flops and brown sweaters aren’t sexy?”

“Er…”

“We’ll go tomorrow, then!”

“What a beautiful world,” said Blair, staring out the window. Her boyfriend, Griff, grinned, despite hating snow himself.

“Life just keeps spinning on, doesn’t it?” she sighed, turning around.

“Sure does,” he smiled down at her and wrapped his arms around her waist. “Sure does.”

Next time…

Love! College! Sex! Drugs! Cheesy end of chapter teasers!

                               

A/N: Woah, sorry for the huge chapter. I’m really starting to like Berkley now that she’s hopelessly addicted to the bubble blower and rocking the punk hairdo. Does anyone listen to Scissor Sisters? I listened to their album Night Work like four times writing this. It kicks all sorts of ass.

In conclusion:

I can seriously picture Griff as a jazz musician. That’s the werewolf on the floor, beeteedubs. I’m so mad he wouldn’t come inside when Bridget was alive. >(