"So, are you a showgirl?" the cab driver asks. Scheherazade can see his eyebrow lifting curiously as he glances back at her in the mirror.
"No!" she exclaims with a burst of laughter.
"I, uh, hope I didn't offend you, Miss. But with that get up that you're wearing... if you aren't a showgirl.. what ARE you planning on doing in this town?"
Scheherazade looks down at herself, "There's something wrong with my clothes? Sorry, I might not be on top of fashion these days. I'm fresh out of the lamp. And after so long being tied down to what other people want, I want to create a life for myself. Have stories of my own! There is something so wonderful about the mundane - you really have no idea how lucky you are."
"Lamp? Are you sure you don't want me to take you to the hospital?" Scheherazade misses the disbelief in his voice.
"Whatever for? I want to get started on a life that's full of excitement. You ever seen that film about the guy who makes drinks? For other people? He does fancy tricks throwing bottles around and stuff? I want to do that!"
"You want to be an actress? Well, Starlight Shores sure is the right place for that."
"No, silly! Be a Mixologist! I want to be the most famous Mixologist ever. My days of obscurity are over, I am going to become well-known - for serving drinks!"
Scheherazade doesn't notice the stunned silence for the rest of the trip to her new home, she is too busy taking in the sights of the city.
Walking up the steps to her small and humble abode, Scheherazade stops and stretches to appreciate her freedom. Finally... no more servitude. A life of her own. What more could a girl want?
Except perhaps a bar and some knowledge about what to do to make these "drinks".
"How... how do I do this?"
"You put the coconut in the lime... no... Damn... I'll get this right... I will."
"YUCK! Or, maybe I won't. Oh the smell - I need to get out of here..."
(And the photographer needs to to remember to put the walls back up)
"Yes, you do."
(Wait, what?)
"Genie. We can break the fourth wall. But for now - I need to go out and meet some people. And get this smell out my nose."
One short cab ride later (and another cab driver stunned into silence by the talkative Scheherazade) and Scheherazade's nose has picked up the most wonderful scent... hotdogs.
"Oh great Sim-ess. Why have people put all of this delicious food in front of me? For free?"
Uh. It's a hotdog eating contest. You stuff your face to win prizes.
"I eat my favourite food... and win stuff?"
Yes.
"GRAWFLE-NOM-RAH-NOM-MRNHHH"
While other contestants may have preferred the lady like approach, Scheherazade was not afraid to give it her all. (Lovely, that's real ladylike. Classy.).
"HIM-HWINHING-HAAAAAANT-HI!"
BURP "Who is the genie? I am. Why thank you very much."
Indeed, Scheherazade won the contest.
And the next one. And looked like she could keep going all evening.
Of course... some contestants seemed less interested in eating the hotdogs.
"Hmmmmm.... braiiiiiiiins," came the throaty groan from behind Scheherazade.
"THAT'S what they put in these? GROSS! I'm going home"
"It was so much fun today, Sim-ess, and... uh... what... who is this sneaking around my house?
"I'm in Starlight Shores... It's probably just some kind of publicity stunt. I think it's time for bed."
It is probably for the best Scheherazade, probably for the best.
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Generation One: Revealed
Family Structure: ?
Number of children: ?
Primary Income: Mixologist
Secondary Income(s): ?
Generation Goal: ?
Miscellaneous Fun: ?
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Random Bonus Shot:
I just love "Ensorcel Sim" for the animation. I don't do anything with them, but the way it makes Scheherazade look all imperious is hilarious. Especially when she is caught in the bushes and it appears she is looking at a baby with ill-intent.
