She was required to wear the hair at all times but she could change the outfit during off hours. Like now. Pink Hippo, lower reaches of Kangerootown over on the Omega continent, her new home of sorts. Where she decided to start the Wendy’s Hot Dog chain, at least until beau Jim Randolph Bastard Pirate reported back to her about the Red Dead planet. Hadn’t heard from him in weeks — probably dead in space, she determined, or crash landed on the planet at best with that rickety looking Humpty Dumpty ship of his. How right she was about the crash, but how wrong she was about the death. About to get eaten by alligators or shot by bandits (reader’s choice), he spotted a nearby fox and used a mod he’d installed just before entering the atmosphere to transfer his soul directly into it, switching over from his current body in immediate peril. Only till he could find another human one to inhabit. He watched from the new body as the teeth of the alligator sank in (or, in the other alternative death scenario, the bullets of the bandit sank in). He quickly scurried through the bush and away from the ghastly scene. Thank Gods for that mod. Actually, one of the God ones he installed upon recommendation of Atlantis High Priestess, who had lived in St. Dennis for a while, enough to know the advantages of God mode and attached mods in the “game.” Like bits for bytes.
Back to the Pink Hippo: Wendy had to decide by tomorrow whether to branch out her fledgling eating establishment to here in Kangarootown, about 5 sims west of the original store in Old Hen. She’d picked a central place in what you could call the burg’s downtown area. Now all she had to do was persuade the owner to give her the site. You can see it here — the red topped one. Just like Wendy. She liked that about the spot. Fate, she pondered.
Newt walked in and sat down beside her, a 67 year old recently retired German hailing from Brussels. Or so he said. “Buy you a drink, Wendy?” How does he know my name? she wondered.
