The Sims 2 Presents: Foster's Valley!

[Cassini90125]

Originally Posted by jekylljuice

As for the Piano...lol, good to have that mystery finally solved.

The real mystery is what's inside it.

Originally Posted by Fomalhaut

Keep this up! - and I'd like to see where I am while all this mess is going on (or is it better for me to stay out of it...?)?

I'm hoping to post some pics from your side of town after I finish this particular segment.

Due to a power surge from high winds and a later game crash I had to run the Foster's Headmaster scenario three (deleted) times to complete it, so if you spot any inconsistencies it's because I used pics from all three tries. Sheesh, this game puts me through hell. By the way, this story has a title card, just like the actual Foster's episodes, except it's a Sims 2 loading screen and you don't get to see it until the end of this chapter. Don't skip ahead, you'll spoil the surprise. (Insert a Mr. No-no smilie here.)

Foster's Valley - "Retribution, Part One: Prologue"

The next day Frankie woke up and got straight to work, as usual. She hadn't slept well the night before because of the revelation of what Madame Foster had done and wasn't in a very good mood. Nonetheless she got to work, partly out of habit, partly to get her mind off of everything. First up was a toilet that someone had plugged:



Then there was mopping to do in the downstairs bathroom:



After which she snapped the mop in half over her knee and sat on the toilet for a half-hour with her face in her hands, sobbing softly. Her once happy home now seemed more like a prison.

After she recovered, Frankie got herself some breakfast and waited for Mr. Herriman to show up. He soon did so, with his usual bowl of cereal:



"How are you this morning, Miss Francis? I understand that last night was very hard on you-"
"I want a vacation."
Mr. Herriman hadn't expected that. "Say again?"
"You heard me. I want a vacation. I have got to get out of here for awhile."
"We can't spare you. Replacing you for a few days would cost-"
"I don't care what it costs! We're talking about my mental heath here, okay? In the past four years I've gone out with friends four times and been on one date with a guy who turned out to be a total jackass! I work here every single day with hardly a break or any time for myself. I rarely go out unless it's to pick up groceries. Most of my social life is on the phone. And now I find out that my own grandmother brought in a self-absorbed lunatic to wear me down so that I wouldn't go out and find out that she'd sold videos of me and everyone else in the House to Cartoon Network and turned our lives into a public spectacle! I need a break!"
"You don't have to yell-"
"I'M NOT YELLING!!!"
Mr. Herriman sighed. He knew she was right but he also knew how much the House depended on her. "Can't we discuss this after the Headmaster's visit?"
"No, Peter Cottonbutt, we'll settle it now." There was a lot of anger in Frankie's voice. Anger and hurt. She did her best to calm down. "Look, it's not like I'd be gone for long. Besides, Wilt can take over while I'm gone, you know he's good at it and he loves to help out."
"He's not half as good at your job as you are."
"Eduardo and Coco can pitch in, too." She paused as a tear formed in her eye. "Am I really asking for so much?"
Again he sighed, not without sympathy. "It would help if the House was in peak condition up to the moment you left. Can you have this place spotless by the time of your departure? Absolutely spotless?"
Frankie smiled. "Watch me, rabbit man." With that, she got on the phone, made all the arrangements she needed, and got straight to work:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_O5NBf4tmO0

And soon Frankie had the House clean all over from top to bottom. Keeping it that way would be a challenge, but if she could keep Bendy out of trouble and away from puddles and such, she might be able to pull it off. Frankie had one other triumph that afternoon, too:



Cooking Level 10. First in the Valley to get a level of 10 in any skill. I just sat there and smiled, and not because of the little black dress. A moment later she went into the kitchen and put that cooking skill to work:



Frankie cooked, Mr. Herriman schmoozed, and Wilt waited patiently, ready to step in if the old rabbit managed to insult the Headmaster. No insult, fortunately, and dinner began a few minutes later:



She looks so beautiful in that dress... um, anyway, the rest of the residents joined the meal at various points throughout the evening. There was tension in the air from the night before, particularly when Madame Foster arrived at the table, and the Headmaster noticed it, resulting in a lower score than in the previous Headmaster scenario in the old Valley. Not low enough to fail, of course not; not with Frankie Foster in charge:



And so it went. The Headmaster departed and the scenario was won. Private school and spiffy new dork outfits school uniforms for the Imaginary Friends, a spotless House, and Frankie finally gets a well-deserved and long overdue vacation, the first really big thing she's had to look forward to since missing that concert on that horrible day long ago. She was smiling as she cleared the dishes. She smiled as she wiped down the counters. She even smiled (and rolled her eyes) as she heard the Headmaster yell from outside, "Get away from me, boy, you smell like poo!" Oh, that Bendy, she sighed. She went to retrieve him and send him off to bed. Through the dining room and the foyer, open the front door, and:



What the hell?



"Hey hey, Frannie, long time no see! Wow, is that turkey I smell? I'm starved! Oh, can I get a different room instead of my old one?"

Oh, no...



(To be continued...)

[Lynnie]

"Oh no" indeed!

Ugh. Why him? Why now? She needs a vacation NOW! Although I'm sure you agree so... yeah.

I'm glad the house passed inspection by the Headmaster, though.

[Fomalhaut]

That was lovely! Especially the Goofball surprise at the end...

(Wilt looks amazing in that formal outfit!)

[Imaginary Light]

I laughed out loud at the end. Glad I didn't ruin the surprise by looking at the title card beforehand.

[xxxClaire]

Noes! Not Goofball.

Nice work! Frankie looks great in that dress... and Wilt looks awesome!

[Bloo2daMacs]

Oh crap, Goofball!

....this will not end well...

[Howard]

The duckman does a long scream of anguish "not the 'goofpoop!'

[jekylljuice]

Well, this is certainly a turn up for the books...Goofball is just about the last character I ever expected you to invite into your Sim domain, Cass. Unless of course you have an ulterior motive here...like exacting vengeance, for example.

[antgirl1]

Whoa....how you took time to make a GOOFBALL sim I'll never know...You, as the simmaster, get the pleasure of tormenting him...

[Cassini90125]

I wish to state for the record that writing the following chapter was a very painful experience for me, and some of you may find it painful as well. I promise you that things will get better soon.

Foster's Valley - "Retribution, Part Two: Nightmare scenario

"What the (deleted) are you doing here?!?!" Frankie yelled. The sudden appearance of this pest did not bode well for her vacation.
"My family was gonna kick me out," Goofball responded. He scratched under an armpit as he strolled inside. Dunno why."
"I can think of a couple reasons," Frankie growled. "Where's your trunk? Have it removed so you could pass yourself off as a real teen?" Her voice was heavy with sarcasm.
Mr. Herriman showed up at that moment. "Did I hear yelling? Oh, hello, Mr. McGee. What brings you back to the House so early in the morning?"
"Well, I'll tell ya:"



"Lost my trunk about a year ago. Some guy callin' himself Toxin or Volkswagon or somethin' grabbed me, dragged me into an alley, and lopped it off with a machete." He winced at the painful memory. "Kept yellin', 'This is for what you did to her.' No idea what he was talkin' about. I didn't do nothin' to no one! And then he beat me over the head with it til I couldn't fight back and then he shoved-"
"Okay, we get it," Frankie interrupted, her tone softened by pity. "Why are you here?"
"Like I said, my family was gonna kick me out. One night a couple weeks ago they was watchin' TV like always, next thing I know they're talkin' behind my back about sendin' me to that Fester's House." Frankie smirked. Fester's Home for Delinquent Imaginary Friends might've shaped Goofball up a little. He continued. "So the next day I ran away. Didn't know where to go, then I remembered the good times I had here. So here I am! So, um, how 'bout that turkey, eh?"
"Leftovers are in the refridgerator," said Mr. Herriman. "Indeed, it seems you have suffered considerably, but that ends now. Foster's shall keep you housed and fed until we can find you a suitable home."
"Aw, thanks, Mr. H!" Goofball said as he headed for the kitchen.
"I can't believe you're letting him stay here again," Frankie said. "Do you have any idea what he put me through?!"
"You've mentioned it more than once," Mr. Herriman replied testily:



"And apparently you don't care." Frankie's tone was sullen with resentment.
"I think you exaggerated the incident somewhat," said Mr. Herriman. "Look, Miss Francis, I understand that you don't like him and that you've been through a lot in the past 24 hours. We all have. But Foster's does not turn away an Imaginary Friend in need. Just put up with him as best you can and try to focus on your work, and your vacation. Now if you will excuse me, I have some paperwork to attend to. With that he turned and headed for his office.
Frankie just stood there in the dining room, feeling angry and miserable. Exaggerated? She went through hell because of Goofball's uncaring attitude, because of his lack of empathy and consideration for others. Mountains of extra cleaning and shopping, disturbing the baby IFs, going to the concert she'd so been looking forward to and missed because of him... but the worst part was how nobody in the House had stood by her. Yes, she'd been wrong, Goofball was indeed an Imaginary Friend and not a teenage slacker looking for a free ride, but still none of them had made any effort to prove it to her, and Goofball himself had certainly gone out of his way to not prove he was an IF. She wasn't going to go through all that again, and she made dang sure he knew that:



"Get this through your thick head, McGee," she said with barely controlled hostility. "You put me through hell the last time you were here, making me do extra work and missing that concert. I am not going to put up with that kind of crap again. You make my life difficult, well, we've got another IF here by the name of Berry. She's unstable and likes to play with knives. Got it?!"
"Hey, no problem, Frannie, I'm an easy-going guy! Can you get my room ready? I'm beat."
It took Frankie every last ounce of restraint she could muster to keep from hitting him. "My name is Frankie, she said as she stormed off to prepare his room.
"Sheesh, what's with her?" Goofball wondered as he headed for the living room. Once there he belched loudly:



And settled in to watch reruns of Ed, Edd and Eddy.

Frankie finished his room and went to bed, exhausted both physically and emotionally, slamming the door behind her and waking Madame Foster in the process. Madame Foster didn't much care to try to go back to sleep, still wound up and wrought with guilt over what she'd done, so she dressed and went downstairs, where she finally met Goofball for the first time:



"Oh, yes, my granddaughter mentioned you some time ago. She was very upset with your behaviour, you know."
"Yeah, she said that. Dunno why, I didn't do nothin' wrong."
"That's not the story I heard, young man."
"I'm an Imaginary Friend, not a man, ma'am."
"Whatever. Frankie is in a very fragile state of mind right now and doesn't need anymore stress than she's already dealing with. Try not to make any trouble for her, okay dearie?"
"Hey, sure, no problem. Can you get me a soda?'
"Get it yourself. Is Mr. Herriman around?"
"Yeah he's in the office or somthin'. Uh, my soda?"
Madame Foster ignored him and went to speak with Mr. Herriman, who had left the office and was now seated at the dining room table:



"Mr. Herriman," she began, "what really happened when that putz in the other room was here last time?"
"I don't know for certain," Mr. Herriman replied. "Miss Francis claims that he made a great deal of extra work for her. I believed she was exaggerating and forbade her from attending a concert until her work was done. At the time I thought she'd been slacking off but all things considered I'm beginning to wonder. I do still think her claims were exaggerated but perhaps not so much as I'd thought."
"I see. I think something bad is going to happen because of his being here again, but I can't throw him out because of a feeling or because Frankie doesn't like him. I can't turn my back on another IF, like I almost did with you."
"But in the end you found me again, remember? Goodness, that was a long time ago."
"It certainly was." Both smiled, remembering that day in the attic. Goofball, in the meantime, remembered the fine art of making a mess:



And history slowly but surely began to repeat itself.

The next morning Frankie discovered the mess, screamed angrilly, cleaned it up, and confronted her grandmother:



"I want him out of here, Grandma."
"Frankie, I can't do that. It would violate everything I believe in if I were to turn away an IF in need. Just last night I was reminiscing with Mr. Herriman about how I'd almost forgotten about him, about how I'd been living on my own until the day I came home to sell the House and I discovered him living in the attic, waiting all those years for me to come back for him. I was so touched by his loyalty, even after so much time had passed. How could I ever turn my back on a friend like that? How could anyone turn their back on their Imaginary Friend? I promised him I would never do so again, and together we dreamed up the idea of turning the House into a foster home for IFs that weren't so lucky, who's creators couldn't or wouldn't keep them. And I was thinking about you too, dear; I remember how much you wanted an IF of your own but your parents wouldn't let you have one. So I let you hang around here after school, just like Mac used to do, hoping that would be enough. It worked well, I think; you had Wilt as a surrogate father, Eduardo liked to play dolls with you, and Coco... what did you do with Coco?"
"We made fun of Douglas and Adam. Grandma, Goofball ruined an evening out that I'd really been looking forward to - which is what you brought Bloo into the House to do - and made my life miserable, and it's happening again, and Wilt and the others are starting feeding into it, just like Bloo did last time. I want him gone. You owe me."
Madame Foster sighed unhappily. "If it were anything else, Frankie, I'd do it. But this... I just can't. I can't turn away an IF in need. I'm sorry." She left to be alone in her bedroom and cry. She was hurting Frankie again and she knew it. And she hated herself for it. She hoped Mr. Herriman was right, that this was all just an exaggeration.

Work piled up all day; Goofball, it seemed, was incapable of cleaning up after himself. Frankie was hard-pressed to keep up with the messes; she hadn't worked so hard since the last time Goofball was in the House. Even Bloo had never been quite this bad. The other IFs helped but it wasn't enough, and eventually it caught up with her. And so did Mr. Herriman.
"Miss Francis, didn't I say I wanted the House spotless before you left for your vacation?"
"It was, until you let that pest in here again." She had a very bad feeling about this.
"I'm sorry, but 'was' isn't good enough. What if a family were to come here, looking to adopt? What would they think, seeing the House in such disarray?"
"That they'd gotten here just in time to 'rescue' an IF from this place."
"Very funny. They'd think that IF's are messy things that need constant attention and are too much work to have around their home. We can't take that chance. Miss Francis, as I've said I know you've suffered greatly because of recent events and do indeed deserve a break, but the House comes first. I'm sorry, but I'm afraid your vacation is cancelled."
Frankie felt like she'd been punched in the stomach. Her knees buckled:



"No, Mr. Herriman, please! You can't do this to me! I need a break!"
"I'm sorry, Miss Francis. My mind is made up."
"Please, Mr. Herriman, I'm begging you! Don't do this!"
"I'm sorry, Miss Francis." With that he turned and left for his office, leaving Frankie in tears. He now understood what Madame Foster meant about hating herself.

"Not again," Frankie sobbed. "Not again..."



(To be continued...)