KIRSTIE ALLSOPP and Phil Spencer, presenters of the British property programme Location, Location, Location, in which they help couples find their dream homes while navigating wildly unrealistic expectations and arguments about kitchens, have been called in to help a Second Life couple take the terrifying next step in their relationship: agreeing which enormous free house they want to live in.
After eleven months together, Luna and Kael have decided the time has come to abandon their respective properties and create a home that reflects their shared hopes, dreams and completely incompatible aesthetic preferences. Luna is looking for a secluded tropical beach hideaway with white sand, gently swaying palms, a tiki bar and somewhere they can sit together watching the sunset. Kael wants a Blade Runner-themed sex space station.
“It’s really about compromise,” said Phil, staring across a windswept parcel containing a lighthouse, three breedable horses and an inexplicable crashed helicopter. “Luna wants warmth, romance and natural materials. Kael wants rain, neon and a room called DECONTAMINATION CHAMBER 7. So there’s definitely some common ground for us to work with.”
THE SEARCH BEGINS
Their first viewing is a beautiful two-storey Balinese villa overlooking an azure lagoon, and Luna immediately falls in love. “Oh my God,” she says, stepping onto the terrace. “Imagine us sitting out here in the evening with a glass of wine.” Kael walks silently around the property for several minutes before asking whether the bamboo walls can be replaced with brushed steel. He is particularly concerned by the lack of airlocks. “It just doesn't feel very dystopian,” he explains.
Kirstie points out that there is a spacious basement which could potentially become whatever horrifying thing Kael is imagining, but he remains unconvinced. “There aren't even any pipes.”
SOMETHING FOR KAEL
Property two is significantly more promising for Kael. Situated 2,400 metres above an adult cyberpunk region, it is a vast black orbital platform featuring animated warning lights, industrial corridors, steam vents and seventeen rooms whose purpose Luna is afraid to ask about. Kael is visibly emotional as they step through the main entrance. “This is basically everything I've ever wanted.”
Luna looks through the reinforced observation window at an enormous rotating hologram advertising something called NEON DESIRE and quietly asks where the tiki bar would go. Nobody answers. Phil gently suggests that the enormous interrogation chamber could perhaps become a snug.
COMPROMISE
By the third property, Kirstie believes she has cracked it. The couple arrive at a modern beachfront home with a private island, sunset views and a surprisingly substantial underground bunker. Upstairs is everything Luna wanted: driftwood furniture, linen curtains, tropical plants and a deck leading directly onto the beach. Downstairs is a windowless concrete complex with flickering fluorescent lights and enough chains to concern a building inspector.
For the first time all afternoon, Kael smiles. Luna discovers there is space beside the swimming pool for a tiki bar and begins to believe they might finally have found somewhere they can both be happy. “This could actually work,” she says, while Kael is already measuring the basement for something he refuses to explain.
THE DECISION
Three weeks later, Kirstie and Phil return to discover the couple ignored all three properties and bought a completely different house they found on Marketplace for L$850. It is a Tudor cottage. Luna has put palm trees outside, while Kael has installed a teleporter behind the pantry leading to a 600-metre-high orbital dungeon. They are both delighted.
Phil looks directly into the camera. “And ultimately, that's what finding a home together is all about.” Kirstie nods approvingly. “Compromise.”
There is a distant metallic scream from behind the pantry. Kirstie pauses. “Lovely kitchen, though.”