Rebma & Rovert Notrub: the Tale of Two Sims

That day, the clouds of the previous week had been prised apart to reveal the eye of the heavens, or so it felt to the grateful Rebma, who had been stuck inside. She decided to make the most of it by taking a visit to the park.

She swirled around and was immediately dressed for exercising. Then, she began to jog.

By the time she was there, she realised that it was surprisingly desolate, except for Loclam Baargnal. She tried to turn away, but he had spotted her. 

"Ah, Rebmie!"

"It's Rebma," she muttered darkly.

"Yes, that," he said, waving a hand dismissively. "I heard you'd qualified as a doctor."

"Mm-hm."

"Congratulations!" Loclam beamed.

Rebma looked up at him with surprise. "Thanks," she replied, a smile slowly spreading across her face. "That took three hours of chess, you know."

"Yeah, well, enough about you," he said, rolling his eyes. "My dog died this weekend."

Rebma gasped. "I'm so sorry!"

They stood there in silence for a few seconds, with Rebma wondering if she should leave him in peace. But then he said abruptly, "Yeah, it's all right though. I just got his will back."

"Oh yes." Rebma nodded understandingly.

"Three butterflies."

"How lovely," she said, tears forming in her eyes. 

"I know," whispered Loclam. "It's made me think about my own, really."

"I'm proud to say that I've already got that sussed."

Loclam raised an eyebrow.

"A rock, a picnic basket and three sausages. Anyway, must dash."

And before he could say "I'm jealous," a weary Rebma grabbed her backpack and slowly but surely, with a flash of red, a car had morphed out and plopped itself on the road. She jumped in, and leaned out of the window with a grin. "Catch you later!"

As she drove, all she saw was block colours of green and blue, with trees unable to be formed yet. When she reached home, the house rapidly built itself before her eyes.

Nothing unusual there.

Often, to relax, she'd unwind in the garden. She headed towards the gate, only to find that some plumbob of a Sim had dumped a dish in her way. She stood, utterly perplexed and waving her arms for what must have been half an hour before her husband arrived home from work and, as the neat man that he was, picked it up and washed the dish. However, it soon transpired that he was the plumbob of a Sim who had dumped the dish in the first place, because not only did he then proceed to wash one dish at a time, despite the pile placed propitiously on the living room floor, but somehow he made it so that the taps did not stop leaking water.

Rebma sighed and waited for him to swear at it for a minute before he went to kick the ornamental flamingos in the garden. Then she yanked a wrench from her pocket and began to hammer the taps with it. It took one hour of incessant, robotic hammering before the taps halted their unwanted flow of water.

Rebma strolled out into the back garden before realising that Rovert was still at it. Shaking her head, she headed towards the pond. It was relaxing to watch the water shine as the sun beat down and her husband yelled in the midst of it all. From her pocket she pulled out a fishing rod and, with an almighty launch of a backwards arm, swung the rod up high so as to fish in the deep, murky waters of a garden pond - which was sure to behold many species. But her novice nature shined more than those mysterious waters when the power of her swing hurled her backwards. She yelled as she landed on her back, narrowly avoiding slipping within to those oh-so dangerous depths. So loud was this that her husband stopped kicking the flamingos, though there was still so much more fun to be had. The fishing rod had disappeared due to her failure, but he morphed it back into his expert hand regardless.