strangetomato | Strangetown: Chapter Twenty-Six

Warnings: language, sexual situations

In part one, Frances got a haircut, and Ripp decided to get one too. Vidcund headed into LFT to give a lecture on his research. Other things happened too, but that's all you really need to remember for this part.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Part Two

Frances left the salon feeling like he was on top of the world.

He all but floated down the street as he made his way to The Golden Cup, with traces of a smile lingering on his face.

Several sims even turned their heads as he passed by. They were all women, but who was he to complain? Yesterday, he might have complained, but not today. Today was going to be a great day. He had a new haircut, a new attitude, and he'd be damned if he was going to ruin it by being himself.

He was just going to get himself a coffee and read that new book he'd picked up that morning, a graphic novel memoir, entitled Fun Home.

He stepped into the coffee shop, with the delightfully perky aroma of coffee filling the air. He considered trying something new, but decided to order the usual. Surely, it wouldn't matter if he fell back on this old habit.

"I'll just have the house blend. One sugar, two cream."

The barista set to work and handed the coffee to Frances, but when his hand touched the mug, the boy didn't let go. Frances looked up to meet two wide, unwavering eyes.

"You're Frances Worthington, aren't you?"

"Ummm..."

"Sorry, I know I'm a bit forward."

"That's okay. How do you know who I am?"

"I just started at LFT, and I've heard about you. Well, I've heard about the Worthingtons... most people have, you know. It must be crazy to come from such a rich family."

"You have the crazy part right, anyway."

The boy just smiled, with his million simolean grin. "I'm Beau." He had a mop of sandy hair, deep blue eyes, and a steady gaze. There was a wild, flickering, and slightly undernourished quality about him.

"Nice to meet you, Beau."

"Yeah. Wow. Frances Worthington." Beau Broke always repeated the name when he met someone new. It made the person feel important, and it helped him to remember it. He never forgot a name and he used that sim's name whenever he spoke to them. People liked that. It made them think that you were something special, even though they couldn't quite put their finger on the reason. He asked people a lot of questions about themselves too, which always went over well.

He'd read all about it in a book called How to Win Friends and Influence Sims. His copy was dog-eared from much use, and it really did work.

"Well, I guess I'll see you around campus, maybe." Frances had already turned away to find himself a place to sit.

"Hey, wait! Are you alone? I was just going to take a break. We could chat some more." Frances paused, and seemed sort of overwhelmed. Beau attempted to tone down the intensity. "I mean, if you don't mind..."

"No, not at all. You can sit with me, if you want to. As you can see, I'm all alone here."

"Can't have that, now, can we?" Beau flickered, like the tip of a flame. "Thanks. Yeah... It's great to have someone to the chat with here. I usually take my breaks out back. It's nice, but it can get a little boring."

Beau threw off his work uniform and was dressed in his normal clothes in the blink of an eye.

"Is that where you always sit, Frances? You come here with your sister sometimes, right? I've noticed you here before."

"Umm, yes..." Frances was amazed that anyone would remember that. "We sit here, or there on the other window, usually. One of these spots with just two chairs."

"Two is all you need, so why waste chairs. Yeah, that's a great idea. Very clever of you, really." Beau sashayed across the room and took a seat next to Frances.

Beau continued to ask him questions, until Frances deftly directed him to talk about himself instead, where he easily filled the silence.

Before long, Frances knew half of Beau's life story. His father had died when he was just an infant, and his mother had been forced to raise three boys on social assistance. Beau had grown up in a trailer park, and had been more or less dirt poor. Somehow, despite the odds, he had been able to attend university at La Fiesta Tech. His older brother, who had a job there in the city, was putting him through college, but Beau was working part-time to help him out. He liked to be self-sufficient, or as close to that as possible.

Frances mostly listened while Beau talked, watching as he moved his hands around for emphasis. He was quite animated and he was also sort of cute, wasn't he?

Frances wasn't sure. He might not have turned his head, if he hadn't been forced to slow down and take a closer look. He was fair, and slight, but with some obvious ruggedness. He wasn't what Frances usually went for, but he had an undeniable boyish charm.

Frances stopped himself before he went down that road again. This time, he wasn't going to allow himself to develop some unspoken crush on someone who he could never have. He was going to honest, and let the cards fall where they may.

"Okay, Beau..." Frances took a deep breath. "Before we say anything else, I'm just going to be open here and tell it like it is... I'm gay."

"Yeah."

It seemed far too easy, so he elaborated. "I'm a fag. I like boys. I'm a homosexual."

"Yeah, sure. You're gay. Right. That's cool."

"Wait... am I that obvious?"

"Well, your haircut gave me a bit of a clue."

"Is it too fruity?" Frances fretted and immediately started second-guessing himself.

"No, it's great. I really, really like it. Yeah. Really nice." Frances didn't know what to say. "I mean... It's not really very manly, in the traditional sense, but plenty of straight guys are doing that whole metrosexual thing these days. Yeah, I wouldn't worry about it. It suits you. You look really good with that hair."

"Well... thanks."

"To be honest, Frances, that's not really how I know. I just have a sense for these things." He leaned forward, and whispered to Frances in a conspiratorial tone. " ...being a little on the queer side myself."

"Oh."

"Well, really, I'm completely on the queer side of the fence. Yeah, I might as well call a spade a spade."

"Really... I wouldn't have guessed."

"Seems like you don't have the same ability, then."

"Yes. I've been told I have a malfunctioning gaydar, and that has proven to be true so far."

"Well, to be fair, I usually slip by most people that way." Frances listened as Beau kept talking. "Maybe I'm just good at disguising it, since I haven't really 'come out' back at home, not really. Yeah. I don't want to add to the list of things that people can gossip about where my family is concerned. My poor mother has enough on her plate as it is. I haven't even told her yet, even though I know she'd probably be fine with it, after the shock wore off. I'm sure she knows, anyway, on some level. Yeah, mothers usually do, deep down, I think. I just want to be ready for it, you know. It should be the right moment."

Frances examined this strange creature. He was lively, with his thoughts flying off the walls, but yet also quite calm and relaxed. He settled deep into the chair with a bone weariness, like he had been standing for far too long against his will. He looked comfortable, like he knew how to just sit there, in his own skin. He seemed to know who he was, and where he wanted to go in life. Frances figured that he could stand to learn a thing or two from him.

"Well, now I'm really glad I've met you. Yeah, It's nice to have a like-minded person to hang out with. I'm sure that most of the guys in my dorm aren't going to suffer any conversations about the hot men on campus. There's always the girls, but it's not exactly the same. We'd be looking for different types of guys, now, wouldn't we?" Frances thought about Tank and Kendal and silently agreed. It would be nice to have Beau to talk to about that sort of thing. Tank seemed willing enough to deal with all that, but he hardly understood where Frances was coming from. Frances had never really had anyone like that in his life.

"You know what's sad, Beau? I've never really had a gay friend before."

"I'm not surprised. Not at all. Neither have I, actually." He grinned. "Do you have a girlfriend, though?"

"Pardon?" Frances arched an eyebrow.

"Oh, you know - a girl-friend. A girl friend. A hag to your fag. Not that I'd ever call Lucy a hag. She's gorgeous, and she's a real sweetheart." He paused to take a breath. "But you don't have a female friend like that? Don't tell me I'm actually gayer than you are?"

"I didn't realize this was a competition."

Beau started to laugh. It was loud enough to turn the heads of people sitting nearby. It was a cartoon laugh. "You're really funny, Frances. You have a really dry sense of humour." Frances smiled. Was he actually funny, or was Beau just trying to be nice? "But, really... you don't have any female friends?"

"No. I don't. I don't have that many friends at all, really."

"Well, you can share mine, if you want. Lucy's going to just love you. Well, she loves everything, really, but I think she'll get a real kick out of you. Yeah. Definitely." Frances tried to picture what sort of girl she would have to be to find him thrilling in some way. "But Frances... surely you must have friends."

"I have a roommate, and we're pretty good friends."

"Oh... you live with a guy? And he's not your boyfriend?"

"No. He's definitely not that. It's kind of a long story."

"Oh, I get it. One of those stories? He's not gay?"

"No, he's definitely straight. Drawn with a ruler."

"And you had a crush on him... yeah, that's a familiar story. I have one of my own. It was my best friend in highschool. Yeah, if you ever want to make a friendship awkward, try confessing your true love for them when they have absolutely no feelings for you in return. I seem to have mistook a lack of interest in sex in general for a lack of interest in women, specifically. Yeah. Celibacy will always throw you off, let me tell you. Anyway... it's also a long story. Yeah, I'll save it for another time."

"Sure." Frances marveled at how casually that conversation had ended with them basically making plans to hang out again. How did that happen?

"So you don't have a boyfriend? Are you seeing anyone?"

"No."

"Yeah, me neither. Do you know anyone who might be interested?" He grinned. "Unlike my good friend back in Pleasantview, I have no intention of being celibate in college."

"Hmmm, yes. Non-voluntary celibacy is no fun." Frances wondered... had Beau implied anything there? He thought he saw Beau wink at him, but he might have just had dust in his eye. Frances was so out of practice at this sort of thing.

Beau got to his feet. "Well, Frances, this has been just great, but I need to get back to work. It never ends, right? But I've got to work for a living, so there's no point in complaining about it, is there?"

No, there wasn't, Frances figured. He had it all wrong, didn't he? Comparing himself to Beau, and his difficult life, Frances felt like the spoiled, ungrateful rich kid that he really was. Beau had to struggle for everything he had, while Frances had it all, and couldn't even managed to be happy about it. Why was that? Was he just a terrible person?

Beau flashed Frances his winning smile. "I'm so glad I met you, Frances." It wasn't hard to see that he genuinely meant it.

"Yeah. Me too. I mean... that I met you, not myself. You know what I mean."

"Sure do. So, we'll get together soon, right? Go for a coffee on campus or something. You know, hang out. Here..." He handed Frances a card. "All my numbers and stuff are on that."

"You have a business?" The thought was just shocking to Frances, since he figured that Beau must have only just barely transitioned from a teen, and still looked like one. The confetti hadn't even settled yet.

"Not yet. For now, I just have the business card. One day, though... Yeah. That's the plan, anyway." This time, Beau definitely winked at him.

"I really must run now, Frances, but call me, okay?"

"Okay."

Beau left, and Frances sat back down.

As quickly as that, Beau Broke had thrust his friendship onto Frances. He was left sitting there, with his head spinning, wondering how it had all happened so fast.

"So, what do you want?" Buck contemplated his task, while Ripp stared straight ahead into the mirror.

"Anything. I don't care. Just cut it. And hurry up before I change my mind here."

"Really? Anything I want?" Buck felt nearly giddy with power, but he tried not to let on. "Okay, Ripp... but then you can't complain if you don't like it."

"Yeah, well nothing too fancy or fruity or weird. Just normal guy hair. Something easy. I don't want to have to actually do anything with it."

Buck laughed. "Okay. Wash and wear it is."

"Just don't give me a... well, you know." They both knew that he meant a buzz cut, but neither of them was eager to say the word.

"Don't worry. I have just the thing..." Buck had an idea that would please both of his brothers equally. It was short and neat enough if you wanted it to be, and it required very little maintenance. It didn't even need hair gel. It would barely even need to be washed. It was perfect: completely Ripp-proof hair.

He reached forward and closed the scissors on a section of Ripp's hair, and then another. It fell to the floor and collected in a small pile, a literal weight being lifted off his shoulders.

Ripp turned and watched it happening in the mirror. Just like that, it was gone. It was so ridiculously easy. He had thought, for a moment, that he might regret it, but he really didn't. It was time to let it go. Rebellion serves no purpose when there's nothing left to rebel against.

"So, when are you going to tell Mom and Dad?

"I don't know. Maybe I won't. They're just going to worry."

"Well, they'd want to know, Johnny."

"Yeah, well, there were plenty of things that we would have liked to know too, weren't there? It didn't really matter to them."

"Hmm. Yeah. True enough."

"Maybe we should just keep this between us, Jill. For now, anyway."

"Yeah, maybe."

"We're the ones it applies too, anyway. Not them."

"That's true."

"We're the ones that have to deal with this bullshit." Jill smiled at her brother's half-assed cursing, and how his voice always faltered or cracked slightly when he did it. He had always been like that, since cursing was something that one did not do if one was a Smith, at least not in front of their mother. He had always done it quickly and secretly, like he was committing a crime.

As she considered what he had told her, her smile faded. "So, what exactly are they asking you to do?"

"Just oversee things."

"So, what? You'd get to rule over it all like a king?" She raised both eyebrows and made a face. "Well, I'm surprised you haven't gone already."

Johnny glared at her. "Am I really that much of an unbearable asshole?"

"You like the spotlight."

"Everybody likes the spotlight, Jill. That's a stupid criticism."

"Not everyone, Johnny."

"Well, you're no better, okay?"

Jill just rolled her eyes and let it drop. "So, how are they going to deal with the rest of us? I mean... it's voluntary, right?"

"I suppose it's all voluntary, Jill, to a point. They just strongly suggest it." He nailed the ball into the corner pocket.

"I don't want to," she said, quietly.

"No, I can't say that I do either."

"So how do they expect to get this to work out?"

"Well, they might start... No, they probably wouldn't go there..."

"You think they'd just abduct us?"

Johnny arched a brow. "It's not like they haven't done something like that already."

"They did bring you back, though."

"This time, yes."

"God, they really could do that, couldn't they?"

"They can do anything they want. They do it all the time, don't they? And It's not only that..." Jill looked at him, waiting. "They gave me the impression that we might NEED to go."

"What?"

"They didn't give me any details, but they seem to think that things could start getting dangerous for us here. Our lives might be in danger."

Jill was silent.

"Of course, the biggest concern to them would be the loss of our genetic material. All that wasted effort at breeding. But for us, it could mean big changes, either way."

"Who would want to hurt us?"

"Jill, you have to realize that not everyone thinks we should exist, right?"

"I know that."

"Well, we've been pretty lucky so far. Nobody has tried to act on that belief."

"Nobody would do that."

"Are you so sure?" Johnny looked off into the distance for a moment or two and then turned back to his sister. "Listen, Jill... you could slip by unnoticed, you know. You should look at that as a blessing. I wouldn't make a big fuss about your parentage, if I were you." He looked at her green hair. "Maybe you should try to hide the fact that you're half alien a little better."

Jill's face went stony and cold. "Why should I suffer any less than you, Johnny?"

"Oh my GOD, Jill! Why do you have to turn everything into a stupid pissing contest?! You're my sister and I want you to be safe. I'm not trying to exclude you from some wonderful thing here. I just want to protect you, okay? Why can't you just take that for what it is? It's like you refuse to see anything I do as just trying to be nice to you."

"Okay, Johnny! Geez. Have a fit, why don't you?"

He stood stiffly, with his arms folded.

"Look, I'm sorry, okay?" she said, "I know what you meant."

"Let's just talk about something else, okay? Uncle Vidcund will be here any minute."

"Okay, then go right ahead and pick a new topic. Your choice."

Johnny paused, thoughtfully, then continued.

"Did you watch the soccer match yesterday?"

Jill instantly regretted her decision. A satisfied smirk spread across Johnny's face as Jill's eyes glazed over.

Outside, Vidcund was approaching the LFT student centre.

He had just finished his lecture, and was dropping by the centre to meet his niece and nephew before heading back to Strangetown. As he walked, he heard a voice calling out.

"Umm, excuse me! Hey, wait up!"

Vidcund kept walking. It couldn't possibly be him that they were talking to, right?

"Hey, mister! Mr. Curious?"

Vidcund stopped. That was definitely his name. He turned around to see that not only was the person talking to him, but the person was beautiful too. How often did that happen?

"You walk really fast," she said, "I've been chasing you all the way from the lecture theatre." Her heavy breath revealed that this was the truth.

"Sorry. I've never really been one for strolling."

"Well, that's fine. Neither have I. There's plenty to get done, so what's the point in dallying, right?"

"So, what do you want?" He felt the words come out too sharply, as they often did. He tried to change his tone, to sound less abrupt. "I'm sorry... did I drop something back there?"

"Oh... no, I just wanted to speak with you. I really enjoyed your lecture."

"Really? You followed me to say that?"

"Yeah, I did. Is that so silly?"

"Well, no. I'm just surprised, is all." By the end of the class, he had noticed a number of students nodding off in the front row, so he had assumed that it had been less than riveting. "So, you enjoyed the lecture?"

"I sure did. It was bloody brilliant. I'm quite intrigued by your research, actually, since I've been focusing my studies in the same area. Well, orchids are more my thing, and medicinal herbs, but I find it all very fascinating."

"Oh, now I remember you. You were the girl who asked that really insightful question..."

"Yeah, that would be me. Always flaunting my massive intellect."

"So you're from Veronaville?"

"Did I mention that? God, people must think I'm just an insufferable bore by now. I just can't help but bring that up in every conversation, can I?"

"No, you didn't mention it."

"Was it my accent, then?" She exaggerated it to comic proportions.

"No, though your accent is lovely, it was the varieties of plants that you were mentioning. They're only found in the faery territories near Veronaville."

"Oh, yes. That would make sense, wouldn't it? How silly of me."

"You must be pretty familiar with that area."

"Yes, I know it well enough." Hidden under her wavy hair, Bottom Summerdream's ears burned.

She deliberately wore her hair that way to hide the fact that she was a faery.

Sims who didn't know any better had some very odd notions about what a faery actually was, and she had no time to listen to ridiculous stories about magic and all that. It wasn't all rainbows and unicorns, like people assumed it to be. They were an unusual folk, by sim standards, sure, but they weren't that weird.

Vidcund smiled. The girl reminded him of himself at that age, just a little. She seemed very focused on her studies.

She was pretty too, and neatly put together, right down to her argyle socks. Vidcund really liked argyle. It was such a neat and tidy pattern. Neat and orderly, just the way he liked things to be.

There was really something to those school girl socks too. The socks gave Vidcund a tingling, uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach, but he tried not to stare, lest he look like a creepy old man.

Bottom noticed him glance down, and chuckled a little, under her breath. Her new look had been an attempt to put her nonconformist faery upbringing behind her, and to make herself seem serious about her work, but the obvious erotic effect wasn't lost on her either. Men couldn't help but imagine those socks strewn all over their bedroom.

She smiled knowingly at Vidcund. He looked away and resumed the conversation about flowers.

"Veronaville has a number of interesting varieties of saintpaulia. I would love to visit that region one day to take some samples for my research. I've been looking to acquire some of that variety for my collection."

"Oh, well that shouldn't be difficult. If you're ever planning to visit the area, my father would happy to help you to get some cuttings. I could set it all up for you."

"That would be great... if he wouldn't mind."

"He'd love to do it. Showing people around Veronaville, and bragging it up, is one of his favourite hobbies. He's always good for a stroll in the woods too."

"Well, I just might take you up on that offer one day."

"I hope so."

"Thank you..." He paused, realizing that he didn't know how to address her.

"I'm sorry. I didn't catch your name."

"Bottom Summerdream." She watched his face for signs of a reaction to her odd name, but saw none.

"Summerdream." He turned the word over in his mind. "That sounds familiar."

"Well, it's a pretty common name in Veronaville." That wasn't entirely true, but it was what she told people, since the truth took too long to explain.The Summerdreams were something of a dying breed, at least from a genetic point of view, as was the case for most of her kind. The surname, however, was attached to a growing number of faeries, thanks to the welcoming home of her adoptive parents, Titania and Oberon. Their door was always open for another lost child from the territories. Since reproduction was so rare for them, and with a number of forces threatening their survival, they had to look out for their own.

"Oh..." A look of recognition passed over his face. "Is that a... faery name?" He said it as if he wasn't sure that he should. He rushed over the word, like it was an oath and there were children in the room.

"Do I look like a faery to you?" Bottom asked, with a hint of sternness in her tone. She was testing him.

"Well, no," he stuttered, "I mean, maybe. I guess I really wouldn't know." He shuffled around awkwardly. "I hope I didn't offend you."

"Don't worry about it. There's nothing offensive about being a faery, Mr. Curious."

"Vidcund."

"Pardon?"

"Vidcund - my name is Vidcund."

Bottom smiled. Vidcund Curious. It was an odd name, in its own right, and that suited him. He was, from what she had observed already, a rather odd man. She liked him more all the time. He was quiet and focused, and so refreshingly serious. Vidcund chose his words carefully, which was a refreshing change from all the prattlers in her dorm.

He also had the worst haircut she had ever seen, but that could be forgiven. Appearances said a lot about a person, but Bottom knew that they didn't tell the whole story. If anyone knew that, it was her. He looked him over once more, thoughtfully, and then continued.

"Well then, Vidcund, If you're really interested in visiting Veronaville, then maybe I could take a trip home too, and show you around myself. I'd love to have the opportunity to pick your brain some more. It would be great for a future term paper."

"That sounds like a fair trade," he said, nodding. "Knowledge for knowledge."

"Yes... knowledge for knowledge." She smiled.

"So, it's a deal, then?" she said.

"I don't see why not."

Bottom scribbled her email address on a scrap of paper, in her embarrassingly bad handwriting, and handed it to Vidcund. He carefully folded it and put it into his pocket. "I'll stay in touch, and see if I can get some time off work in the future." He also had the twins to think about, but he might be able to swing it, if he could work out all those details. They had just transitioned, so that would make things easier. It would still be challenging to go away for a while like that, but maybe this trip would be just what he needed to move forward with his research. Vidcund felt like this whole meeting must be some sort of sign.

"That's great," she said, "I look forward to it."

"Well, I really have to run." He pointed at his watch, and turned to walk inside. "It was nice meeting you."

"Goodbye, Vidcund... and take care."

"Yes... you too."

She watched him as he walked away.

Tank observed the results. "That's so much better."

"You think?"

Ripp thought it was great, but he couldn't quite comprehend that Tank would agree with him.

"I like it," Buck said.

"Yeah... you look like someone respectable. Like I might actually want to do business with you. Trustworthy. Influential."

"Fuck, Tank. Don't get carried away. A simple compliment would have been fine."

"Sorry. I'm just feeling a bit outside of myself lately. Like I can actually get somewhere I want to go, after walking in place for so long."

"You're a real poet, Tank."

"Oh, fuck off." Tank smiled, despite himself. "Maybe I should change my hair too. It seems like the thing to do."

"Well, there's not much room to cut any..." Buck said.

"No, I'd have to grow it, wouldn't I?" Tank scratched his head, running his fingers across the sharp stubble. "Yeah, maybe I will. Something a little longer. Nothing crazy. Just a little more relaxed."

"Yeah, why not?" Ripp said. "You could even have a mohawk, as long as you can stuff it into a fucking beret."

"Let's not go crazy now." Buck said.

Tank looked at Ripp again, and smiled. "If only he were here to see you now. This would have made his day. Maybe his whole year."

"Yeah, probably." Ripp looked away.

"I made some soup," Buck said, "Do you want some?"

"Hell, yes," Ripp said.

Soon they were all slurping away at the soup.

"This soup is fucking awesome, Buck. Is this Mom's recipe?"

"Yeah."

"Well done. It tastes exactly the same."

Tank looked up from his bowl, and eyed Ripp for a minute. "Now you just need to get a shave."

"I do shave! All the fucking time."

"Right..."

"No, really. I shave like every other day. That's plenty. How often do you expect me to go through that ordeal?" He looked at Buck. "How often do you do it?"

"About the same as you, I guess. I have a baby face like Dad did, though. You and Tank got those robust Vandermorgan genes for facial hair."

"Well then how often do you shave, Tank?" Ripp asked.

"Twice."

"What? Twice... every DAY? You shave twice, every fucking day?!"

"Yeah... once in the morning and once at 4:30, to avoid the 5:00 shadow."

"You're just shitting me."

"Yeah, but I do sometimes freshen up in the evening if I'm going somewhere important."

"God, that's no way to live."

"Military men can't have stubble, Ripp."

"Thank fucking God I'll never be a military man."

Tank scowled a little at this remark, but said nothing.

"Tank does a good enough job of that for all of us," Buck said.

"Well, I try," he said.

"Yeah, the General will never die as long as you're around," Ripp said, and there was just a hint of approval in his voice. Tank smiled.

"Thanks, Ripp. Maybe you're not a total asshole, afterall."

"Don't get used to it."

"Must be the haircut."

"Well, I'm off," Ripp said, getting to his feet. "Thanks for the haircut and all that, Buck.

"No problem."

"Haircuts... keeping the family together... you know, the usual."

"Bye, Ripp," Buck said. Tank just nodded. With that, he was out the door.

They sat there for a moment or two and said nothing. It came as a bit of a surprise to Buck when it was Tank's voice that broke the silence instead of his own.

"I swear I will never understand him, as long as I live."

"He's not so hard to figure out, you know."

"So, that really didn't surprise you... even a little?"

"Well... maybe a little, but not really." Buck shrugged. "This is Ripp, Tank. I'm pretty sure he'd do anything at least once. It's just... what he does."

"Yeah, maybe you're right." It was probably more surprising that Frances had done it than Ripp had, when he really thought about it.

"It's okay, Tank." Buck offered a kind smile. "I wouldn't worry about it too much."

"Yeah..." He trailed off, and then put it behind him. After a moment, he added, "Nice job on the hair."

"Thanks."

"Honey, I'm home!" Ripp yelled out his entrance, to nobody in particular.

"Oh, I was wondering where you were," Johnny began, turning the corner. "I wanted to -"

"Holy shit."

"Hi, John."

"Oh. My. God."

"You like it?"

"Wow. I can't believe you did that."

"Nice, huh? I thinks it's dead sexy."

"Yeah, it's alright." Johnny played it down to avoid giving him too much satisfaction. "It really shows off your receeding hairline to its full advantage."

He gave Johnny a smug look, but began to secretly obsess about potential baldness. What if he went bald before Johnny did? What if Johnny didn't even lose his hair at all? He didn't seem to be losing so much as a strand. Once again, Ripp found himself silently cursing Johnny's alien genetics. "You're just jealous, John."

"Oh, right. You've got me. I'm completely jealous. I'm actually just about to head into my room to cry about it."

"That time of the month again, is it? Well, that explains a lot."

Johnny took the high road, and changed the subject. "Phi's going to just die when she sees you."

"Where is she?"

"Oh, you'll never believe it! Remember that woman she was trying to get in touch with? The one with the flower shop? Delarosa, I think? Well, she heard back from her, and she went in to show her some of her work. She's probably going to let her sell it there."

"Wow. That's fucking great."

"She's really happy about it."

"Well, yeah... I'm really happy too. Good for her."

"So, why did you do it?"

"I don't know. For a laugh."

"I don't believe you."

"Well, you know... the auditions for the play are coming up, and you said they'd want someone with short hair."

"You don't know that. They might want long hair. It's always better for an actor to have long hair. That's the thing about hair, you see: you can always cut it, but it takes forever to grow."

"But you said -"

"I'm sure it'll be fine. You can wear a wig if you need to." Johnny smiled, on the edge of laughter. "It's not like you're going to get the lead, anyway. That's mine."

"Fuck you, Johnny. I'm so getting the lead. I was born to be Dorian Gray. I am fucking Dorian Gray, okay?"

"A narcissist who's bent on self destruction and the corruption of others? Yeah, sounds about right."

"Hey, I haven't been trying to destroy myself nearly as much lately, okay?"

Johnny just smiled.

He opened the fridge and got himself a hemp protein shake. Ripp eyed him with interest.

"Hey, can I have one of those?"

"Why on earth would you need one?"

"I don't know. Aren't they, like, some kind of virility shake? They have that ginseng shit in it, right? I hear that stuff makes you rock hard."

"The only thing this makes rock hard is your muscles, and even then, you still have to exercise."

"That IS a muscle, isn't it?"

Johnny shook his head in disbelief. "I keep forgetting that you almost failed Biology. How the hell do you function, exactly?"

"What? It's not a muscle? Then why am I able to I wave it around like that?"

Johnny just arched an eyebrow, and tried to avoid imagining Ripp as some sort of bizarre sexual clown, but it was too late.

Ripp whistled a tune, and started singing, in an annoying talk-sing sort of way that Johnny wasn't known to like.

"Music scene is crazy, bands start up each and every day
I saw another one just the other day
A SPECIAL new band"

"Do you have to sing that?"

"I remember lying
I don't remember lies
I don't remember what"

"Ripp..."

"But I DON'T CARE, I care, I really don't CARE
Did you see the drummer's hair?"

"What the hell IS that, anyway?"

"Pavement, Johnny. Man, you think I'M stupid? You're a musical moron."

"Look, maybe if it actually came on the radio... I don't follow all these 'indie' bands you're into."

"That's because you're a lame-O!" Ripp sang.

"You're lame. You're LAME. You're really QUITE LAME."

Johnny ignored him, and he soon gave up and moved on.

He stepped up to the juicer, which had found its way into their lives at the intersection between Ophelia's gardening and Johnny's interest in concocting vegan energy drinks. "Okay, let's try this healthy living crap you're so into..." Ripp started pawing over the fruits and vegetables, looking for something that he might actually like to juice. "Nothing weird now... just some lemonade or something. It has real lemons, so it's healthy, right?"

"It's passable."

"But it's the same thing as oranges, isn't it?"

"Too much sugar. It's bad for you."

"Well, how are you supposed to drink it without sugar? It's so fucking sour. Makes my mouth pucker up like a llama's asshole."

"Just have tomato juice instead. It doesn't need sugar."

"Oh, that's so funny, John. You're a real comedian."

"Well, you like tomato soup, and it's basically the same thing."

"No way. That's completely different. Tomato juice tastes like crap."

"Well, you'd know, I guess."

"Oh... nice one. Have you been practicing these comebacks?"

Over his shoulder, he could hear Ripp struggling with the components of the juicer, unable to get it to work. "Careful with that. You don't have to force it, you know. It should fit together without any resistence. If you break my juicer, Ripp, I will end you. Just a fair warning."

"When did I ever break anything?"

Johnny answered him with a look.

Ripp began to chug back his lemonade, and then turned to see Ophelia coming up the stairs. When she saw him, her eyes widened and a smile spread across her face.

"Wow."

Notes:

Now that you've seen Ripp's new hair (man, that was CRAZY exciting, wasn't it? :P), I can finally link to the full version of the new J/R/O artwork. It's bigger and shinier, with no censoring. I'm currently working on a number of painting recolours of these artworks, which will be including in a cc post with the rest of my meagre cc offerings.

Do you think it would be worth submitting these to MTS2? I'm not sure how wide the appeal would be, but I guess they're just cartoon paintings to anyone else, and they might still like them. Do the folk at MTS2 usually prefer sets of paintings? It seems like that's what I usually see.

Shout out to Fun Home: A Family Tragicomic by Alison Bechdel. This is a great book. I highly recommend it, and so does Frances. (This is like my version of product placement.) My other "literary reference" *snicker* was How to Win Friends and Influence People by Dale Carnegie - the grandaddy of all self-help books. The song that Ripp was singing was Cut Your Hair by Pavement. I used it as the suggested music in the first part of this chapter too.

I'm really enjoying Beau so far. He's like a gay Horatio Alger character. The nice thing about the younger premade Maxis characters is that they're so wide open. You can takke them in a lot of directions. Bottom is turning out to be a lot of fun to work on, too. I really love the Summerdreams, and Veronaville too. In fact, I've gone crazy with playing Veronaville lately, in order to have it up to date with Strangetown, and I'm really loving it.