Some time ago. Young Buck Grunt had just turned thirteen two days before, but not all was well. Explosions… attacks… Though Strangetown was yet unaffected, it was only a matter of time. He sat with his older brothers and watched the television; father, the General, was on screen. So was the Mayor.
The Mayor was talking with the Leader of the Free World, an entity from the ‘Sims 3.’
“Why are you targeting us, though? You’re avoiding the question,” said the Mayor.
“Because we’re superior to you, you Sims-2-ians,” said the Leader of the Free World. He was not there in person; he was projected on a TV screen. He looked odd; he bulged in wrong places. He insisted he had ‘higher-quality graphics,’ but Buck thought he looked nightmarish. “And yet the Simmer always returns to you. We cannot allow that.”
“He believes in the Simmer?” Ripp scoffed. "Fairytales."
Buck tensed. Not this dream again. He knew what would happen next.
Suddenly, the Leader of the Free World pulled out a gun and pointed it at the screen; the General jumped, diving in front of the Leader, and the bullet went through the screen, and went through the General…
“D-DAD!”Sunday, Day 01Buck awoke with a start, panting, clutching his sleeping bag. A janitor walking through the park gave him an odd look. Buck blushed and looked away.
That nightmare… Again…
He sat up and packed his sleeping bag. Perhaps today would be his lucky day. Snatching an apple from a nearby tree, he stood up and started walking. He left the tiny town and entered another, a town called Twinbrooks. As he walked, and his stomach growl, he passed by a small lot. And he couldn’t help but stop. The lot was a strange looking thing- it contained only four unpainted walls, a toilet, a shower, and a mailbox.
Buck felt his pocket. The previous day, a man had approached Buck in the park and begged him to paint his portrait; delighted with Buck’s chicken-scratch artwork, he’d given Buck fifty simoleons and left with the painting under his left arm, a skip in his step. Buck had watched, amused, and had debated spending the money on a proper meal; but fortunately, by some mystical foresight, he decided to wait a day or two before spending the money.
Fifty simoleons. Fifty simoleons. That should be enough to buy this lot, Buck thought.
So he put his sleeping bag down. He checked his pockets- he still had the seven vials, and all were uncracked- and nibbled on a piece of lettuce, his last piece of stored food he had on him. Within twenty minutes of waiting, a woman approached him and accused him of trespassing.
“I’d like to buy this lot.”
The woman looked him up and down. “You’re a hobo, aren’t you?”
“Do I look that bad?”
Indeed, Buck was a wandering hobo, but he’d put effort into his physical appearance.
“You don’t look too bad for a hobo,” the woman admitted. “But I hate hobos.”
Buck winced.
“I own this lot,” the woman said. “Went crazy a few years back, ya know, and tried to live off the Earth. It didn’t work out, so I moved back into town, and this place has been rotting ever since. I was gonna bulldoze it, but I’ll sell it to you for forty bucks.”
“I-I thought you hated hobos…?” Buck mumbled, handing her the money.
“I do,” she said. “But you’re not a hobo anymore, now, are you? I’ve got some forms- let me run home and grab them, sir.”
So Buck waited anxiously for another twenty minutes, fearing that the woman was a random passerby who’d tricked a hobo out of forty bucks. But she returned, paperwork in hand, and Buck signed. He didn’t use his real last name, of course. ‘Buck Grunt’ was just begging for the authorities to pay him a visit.
“Buck Lamark, ay? Nice name,” she said. “Now let me just bring these documents to City Hall. You go on with your day, now,” she said, and with that, she left.
Buck stared after her as she left, and replayed the scene in his head. So he was no longer homeless, because he’d happened to walk on the lot the same time its eccentric owner did…
What were the odds of
that happening? Astronomical. Today really was his lucky day. Buck wondered if he’d used up his entire lifetime’s worth of luck.
~
As it turned out, Buck Grunt had not used up all his luck.
Buck showered and wandered into town. He came across a stylist’s shop and couldn’t help himself; giggling like a schoolgirl, he entered the building. It had been his childhood dream to become a pet stylist, after all, and seeing that pets did not yet exist in this world… Well, human stylist supplies were exciting, too!
The shop had the new makeup set by the Katy Perry Makeup Line! Buck bit his hand in excitement and held back a squeal. It was perfect- wonderful-
“Sir, are you looking for a makeover?”
Buck spun around.
“I’m Beverly Castor, Twinsbrooks’ best and only stylist.”
“I-I’m Buck Lamark. I’m interested in trying out that new makeup line,” he said, pointing.
Her eyebrow rose. “Sir, you’re aware that makeup line is designed for young women with a medium-toned skin, right?”
“Not on me!” Buck chuckled, laughing. “I want to try it out on someone else.”
An odd expression crossed the stylist’s face. Then, another woman entered the store; she approached Beverly eagerly, addressing her by her first name. “Now, I know you’re open to experiments, Eva,” Beverly chuckled. “Would you be interested in letting a young unknown do your makeup today?”
“Hmm…” Eva looked Buck over. Buck was glad he’d bathed before coming here, but wished he’d had a chance to wash his clothes.
“Of course, I’ll give you a second makeover free, if the first is not up to snuff,” Beverly said.
Eva nodded eagerly. “Absolutely! Who can reject free makeovers?”
~
“Do you like your new makeup, Ma’am?” Buck asked, politely as possible.
“Like it? I LOVE it! Bev, you’ve just
gotta keep the new hire.”
Buck chuckled. “O-Oh… I don’t actually work here-”
Beverly noted the expression on her customer’s face, and intervened. “-Because we haven’t finalized his contract yet! Ahaha, I’m glad you liked the makeover though, Eva darling.”
The customer left, humming cheerfully.
“You’ll hire me?” Buck asked, surprised.
Beverly let a small smile cross her face. “I’m in desperate need of a second stylist. A single woman is not enough for this entire town. If you’re willing to accept a low pay rate, then I’ll hire you, Mr. Lamark.”
“S-Sure! W-When do I start?”
“This upcoming Tuesday. You’ll be paid 163 dollars…”
“A day?” Buck gasped. Would his good fortune end?
“A week,” Beverley clarified. “On top of whatever money you make from individual makeovers.”
163 dollars a week… Better than his current payrate, no doubt. “I accept!”
Subject: Sims 3 "Strangetown Reincarnation" Immortal Dynasty 
22nd July 2013, 8:23 am
