Fanon:Goth family (K6ka): Difference between revisions

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imported>K6ka
(overhaul (and some new sections that i completed months ago, just haven't released yet))
imported>K6ka
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Don sat in his car and sobbed.
 
==Part 4. IWhere's do...Don?==
A van pulled up in front of the Goth manor, marked with the logo of a large chef's hat accompanied by a turner.{{#tag:ref|What tool is called which can be confusing, and the spatula is no exception. Three kitchen tools all share the name "spatula" — turners, scrapers, and icing spatulas. '''Turners''' are used for flipping, rotating, or moving food while they're sizzling on a hot surface. They may have slots or holes in them to allow the grease to drip out. '''Scrapers''' are used for, well, scraping bowls and plates, usually to move sticky batter or dough around. They often have a plastic or wooden handle, and the scraping surface is made out of rubber or more plastic. Wooden scrapers also exist, primarily used inside skillets. '''Icing spatulas''' are used specifically for icing cakes, although they can also be used to level out dry measuring cups. They have long, thin blades (that are not sharp) used to create the smooth, beautiful icing surfaces on cakes. These are all commonly called spatulas, hence the confusion.<ref>http://kitchenboy.net/blog/spatula-or-turner-that-is-the-question/</ref>|name=Turner|group=note}} The driver got out and smiled at the guests.
 
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"Come," Pastor Rooney said, "Come, Miss Casandra Goth, Mister Don Lothario... your big moment awaits!"
 
==Part 5. I do...==
''Okay Don... this is your big day... man up, Don! Man up!''
 
Except he couldn't.
 
Don's eyes shifted to his left. Everyone at the party had seated themselves neatly in the array of chairs set out before the altar. Pastor Graham Rooney was to his right. Cassandra was right in front of him. ''Oh Lord,'' he thought, ''Everyone's watching me!''
 
Pastor Rooney smiled at the soon-to-be newlyweds. Cassandra was dressed to her best, both in clothing and in her body language. Today was the big day, the day that she had been waiting ages for. Finally, she was ready to start a family of her own!
 
Don took a nervous glance at the audience again. Mortimer Goth was sitting in the front row. But of course — which proud father could possibly miss out on seeing his eldest daughter tie the knot? Don knew that he was not on the best of terms with the old man, but Morty was trying not to let that get to his head. He smiled, or at least tried to, as he watched the man rumored to have been at least partially responsible in the disappearance of his wife prepare to marry his daughter.
 
Don saw Alexander, Cassandra's younger brother. He was seated next to his father, scratching his itchy suit, impatient for the big moment to happen. Next to him were the three Burbs: John, Jennifer, and little Lucy. In the row behind them sat Mary-Sue Pleasant and the Oldies. Across the aisle in the front row were Dirk and Darren Dreamer. Darren was excited — and nervous — at the same time. He caught Don looking at him and nodded slightly, as if to say, "Remember our deal!" Behind them were the three Brokes, with Brandi struggling to keep Beau still in his chair. She eventually gave up and sat the young tot on her lap. And, of course, the hired caterers, who were watching the ceremony from their stations.
 
"We have gathered here on this glorious, sunny Saturday to join these two Sims together in holy matrimony," the pastor began.
 
Cassandra's skin tingled with excitement. ''It's about to happen, it's about to happen!''
 
"I am no meteorologist, but I do have to make a comment about yesterday's weather. Rain, rain, and more rain, and I feared that today's wedding would be a washout." He inhaled, taking in a breath of the fresh, crisp air. "But today, we have been blessed by sunshine, and it serves to be an important reminder that life is like the weather. Some days it will rain, and oftentimes it is unpredictable, but the sun will always shine again."
 
Mortimer fidgeted in his seat. ''Don't do anything stupid to my daughter, Don!''
 
"Marriage is a declaration of true love. True love is a sacrifice. And a sacrifice isn't something to take lightly. Our God the Father, Creator of all of Creation, sent God the Son, whom we all know as Jesus, to make the ultimate sacrifice — His very own life. First John chapter four verse eight says, 'Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love.'{{#tag:ref|[https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=1+John+4%3A8&version=NIV 1 John 4:8 (NIV)]|name=1 John 4:8|group=note}} Nothing expresses love more than one's ''voluntary'' sacrifice of their life to save others."
 
Mary-Sue glanced nervously at Don. ''I hope you don't wind up being a broccoli-sniffer like my husband!''
 
"Today marks the beginning of a very special commitment, and a very special sacrifice. Marriage is when two become one; when a man leaves his family and is united to his wife, and together they become one flesh.{{#tag:ref|[https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Genesis+2%3A24&version=NIV Genesis 2:24 (NIV)]|name=Genesis 2:24|group=note}} Marriage translates into an intimate commitment between both parties, one that will stand the test of time, and a sincere declaration of love. Marriage can thus only be administered by God Himself, a God of love."
 
John and Jennifer held hands. ''Now you're about to experience the joy of being together!''
 
Pastor Rooney turned to Cassandra. "Cassandra," he said gently, "do you take Don to be your wedded husband? Do you promise to love him, comfort him, and keep him, in sickness and in health, remaining faithful to him for as long as you both shall live?"
 
Don could feel the tension in the crowd. All eyes were on Cassandra. Even the birds had stopped chirping to avoid interrupting the big moment.
 
There were tears in Cassandra's eyes. She looked at Don, then back at the pastor, and said softly, "I do."
 
Don could feel some of the audience members breathing a sigh of relief. Mary-Sue smiled at her friend. Beau had gone back to scrambling around in his original seat. But Mortimer and Darren weren't finished just yet. They still had one more person to go to before they could finally relax... or explode.
 
Pastor Rooney exercised great patience. He was no stranger to weddings, and no matter how excited he felt, he always remained quite calm. He turned to Don. "Don," he said gently.
 
Don very nearly wet himself! His bladder had gone from content to flashing emergency sirens in a heartbeat. The sweat built up on his skin in great quantities, and his undershirt grew damp and sticky. ''Oh no.... here he comes, here he comes! He's going to ask me.... he's going to ask me...''
 
"...do you take Cassandra to be your wedded wife?"
 
''Uh...''
 
"Do you promise to love her..."
 
''Maybe!''
 
"...comfort her..."
 
''Sometimes.''
 
"...and keep her..."
 
''I don't know... can I?''
 
"...in sickness and in health..."
 
''As long as I don't have to pay the medical bills.''
 
"...remaining faithful to her for as long as you both shall live?"
 
''No! No, just no!''
 
But the words never came out, much to his relief... or displeasure? Now everyone was looking at him. Cassandra was looking at him. Pastor Rooney was looking at him. The caterers were looking at him. Mortimer and Darren were especially looking at him.
 
''I've been put up on the spot! This is a stage, and the spotlight is on me! And I have forgotten my lines!''
 
Don opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He tried again, but still, nothing. His mouth hung agape, and he knew he had to say something soon before the flames of hell crept up his legs and charred him like fish on the grill. The walls of the world were closing in on him like a trash compactor, and the forces of nature began to squeeze and compress him outside-in, like a pressure cooker.
 
''Cassandra...''
 
''Mortimer...''
 
''Alexander...''
 
''Darren!''
 
'''"I'M SORRY!"'''
 
Don wasn't entirely sure whether he said that out loud or not, but he didn't wait to see the results. He turned on his heels, turned away from the crowd, and ran.
 
He had never ran so fast before in his life.
 
There was no reaction, or at least, none that he felt or heard. He ran, the soft grass of the Goth's well-tended lawn feeling like overgrown weeds clawing at his legs. He ran, the sounds of his footsteps echoing on the solid footpath. He ran, the sounds of his hands pulling the keys to his car out of his pocket, struggling with the remote. He ran, until he reached his car, fumbling with his hands to avoid dropping the keys. He scrambled inside, slamming the door after him, and jabbed the keys into the ignition. There was a pause, then a cough, and the sound of the engine coming to life. He floored the gas, sending the car lurching forward violently, and he hit the curb hard. The car shook and quaked vigorously as he struggled to navigate the vehicle over other people's lawns and sidewalks. He plowed through a wooden fence. He knocked over a trash can. His right side-view mirror disappeared as he sped past a large oak tree. Finally, he managed to get the car back onto the public road, and from there, he drove off into the distance.
 
The crowd was silent. Every one of them were too flabbergasted to speak. Cassandra stood frozen in place like a statue, too shocked to comprehend what had happened. John and Jennifer's hands dropped as the two stared at each other. Even Pastor Rooney was completely stunned. Darren wanted to cheer, but he managed to control himself and hold it in. ''You did it, Don!'' he wanted to say. ''You ditched Cassandra!''
 
At last, Mortimer broke the silence: "Well, ''I'' should've known; I should have known that slimeball was up to no good!"
 
==Author's notes==
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