Welcome to the Pine Valley Chronicles, an ongoing neighbourhood story in The Sims 2!
Warning: this journal may contain uncensored nudity, violence, profanity and sexual themes.
And now… this is it! This is where everything changes. Sims will live, Sims will die, and the Clover County area will never be the same! Are you ready for the apocalypse?
In Chapter Ten there was wanton fluid-swapping at university, and Melanie Lillard made a poor decision that led to her demise.
And boy, will that turn out to have been more important than it seemed…
But first, Pingu.
Hey Brandi #2!
Brandi: Pretty sure I’m Brandi #1 now, since I’m moving in with the richest Sim in Pine Valley.
Moving in and… bribing the butler? Brady, what the fuck?
Brady: She doesn’t want me to tell anyone that she’s…
Brandi: THAT I’M PLANNING A SURPRISE BIRTHDAY PARTY FOR CHILDREN WITH CUTE BUT SAD DISEASES.
Brady: Wait, but you said…
Brandi: SHUT THE FUCK UP BRADY.
Hey, Cecilia… what’s up?
Cecilia: What does it look like?
I see you’ve moved in with Neil and Victoria. How’s that working out for you?
Cecilia: I have my own bathroom, and my door locks, and they’re both gone all day so nobody knows if I skip school .
That’s… good? So… where you going with that?
Oh. Oh, I see.
Jerry: WHAT THE FUCK IS SHE DOING, MAN?
I think she’s punishing you for being a lousy boyfriend for her sister?
Jerry: IT’S NOT MY FAULT I DIDN’T WANNA KISS HER SHE’S GOT A REALLY BORING FACE!
Hey, Grimmy! That’s… respectful.
The Grim Reaper: I AM ATTEMPTING TO FORGE A MORE PERSONAL RELATIONSHIP WITH MY CLIENTS. THE INVASION OF PERSONAL SPACE IS A TYPICAL MANIFESTATION OF CLOSE ACQUAINTANCE, IS IT NOT?
Well… at least you’re trying.
Laci II has pretty much the run (fly?) of the house, because as far as Sims are concerned cage doors are only for opening.
Sunny: I’m always on the outside, looking in.
I know, I’m sorry. I don’t know why you guys never really got together…
Sunny: No, I mean he forgot to give me a key. I’m locked out of our new house.
Oh. That. Um. Forget what I said just now.
Chelsea is, as always, in a class of her own.
And now I guess she’s teaching it.
Hey Tyler! Get beat up by any burglars lately?
Tyler: I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m a Secret Society member.
Nope. You’re a cop from Pine Valley.
Tyler: Look it’s not my fault Maxis got lazy!
Fair enough. So, what’s got you looking so distraught?
Tyler: This chick is just passed out on the lawn! -worries-
You’re gonna spend the rest of your life worrying if that sort of shit bothers you, dude.
Tyler: You’re under arrest for not being as hot as you should be!
Yeah! Take her away!
Chelsea: I like roleplaying. When does he “beat” me with his “nightstick”?
I’ll be honest: this is my first ever abduction. I have no idea if my Secret Society will actually function correctly.
That’s… not a good sign.
Chelsea: Tyler’s car is too short.
I can see that.
Chelsea: Where am I?
I’ve got it written right above the pic, stupid.
Chelsea: I’m amazed this journal even has a third wall.
Chelsea: You like me! You really like me!
Everyone: SHOW US YOUR TITS
It’s basically a sausage-fest of fratboys in there, Chelsea. What did you expect?
Skylar Miguel: Dude, that chick just changed right in front of me!
Chelsea: I’ll understand if that means you have to go change now.
Chelsea rocks the blazer.
Roger: Roger Custer is SO FUCKING AWESOME, dude, it’s brilliant.
Trevor: Roger Custer? Fuck THAT guy, he’s a douchebag.
Sorry about the chemo treatment, but I wanted to get a better look at your evil genetics. Check out those weird lumps on your chin!
Chelsea: Less talk about my deformities, more action to correct them, okay?
Chelsea: Yes! I’m hot now! Am I hot now? I’m hot now, right?
It’s hard to tell without hair and makeup.
I think the way everyone is staring at you might be promising, though.
Cameron prefers to socialize in bulk.
Cameron: Sometimes they talk to each other and I can tune out completely!
Oh dude, I love it when that happens.
No! Don’t steal our windows! Bad gypsy!
Oh. Oh, okay. Magic lamp. Right. Gotcha. Cool. Thanks!
Man. Rishell is a BEAST. Of BURDEN, even!
Rishell: I hate that song.
That’s called “having good taste.”
Apparently narcolepsy is less a condition than a single-host demon.
Tyler: What the hell is wrong with this kid?
Just do your job, dude.
Everyone: Woo! Yeah! Show us your tits!
Roger: Guys, she’s… not really that good looking.
We’ll see about THAT!
WHOAH. Oh. Oops.
Cameron: What? What’s wrong?
Nothing! Nothing at all!
I’ll leave you in suspense about Cameron’s face for now, and give you a closer look at Chelsea’s instead. Because she wants to become a famous Visionary Artist, she’d damn well better start showing some signs of mental and sexual instability soon; hence the outfit.
Nevertheless, she doesn’t often feel obligated to wear it.
I bet they raise the rates on this dorm for everyone but Chelsea, and I bet nobody complains.
Lisa: HELP ME ANDREW I’M DYING
Andrew: Hey, Lisa, I’m kinda busy right now.
About time. She’s been horse sleeping in front of this bookshelf for three solid days now.
Head toward the lightbulbs, Lisa! Head toward the lightbulbs!
Lisa: Aww, Karen, don’t cry! YOU’RE NEXT.
Jace: THIS DORM IS AWESOME.
Don’t I know you?
Ash Thomason: Ash Thomason, Secret Society.
Heh, calm down there buddy. You say that like it’s “Secret Service,” like you’ve got some nefarious purpose for moving in here or something.
Ash: TAKE THE SHOT! HE KNOWS TOO MUCH!
Tips for dealing with obnoxious coaches, part two: Influence them to Bathe. They might glitch out and walk into the women’s washroom, and then be completely unable to leave because they suddenly can’t use female-only doors!
Andrew: If this is about the hole in the women’s shower wall, I want you to know that I was framed. By the women. They’re anarchic exhibitionists, it’s really weird and sick.
Andrew: Okay, judging by your silence I may have said too much. Is this about the girl I accidentally had sex with in first year? Because I still have no idea how she got under me.
Everyone: Woo! It’s… a dude. False alarm everybody, back inside.
Chris Jakobsons: No.
Carl Grove: Come on!
Carl: I bet you don’t even know what a reverse piledriver is.
Chelsea: Where are you going, dressed like that?
Andrew: Home. I just graduated.
Chelsea: Dressed like that, she repeated.
Andrew: Are belly shirts not “in” this year?
Vanessa: So Andrew… how’s about you and me…
Andrew: How’s about we don’t.
Vanessa: I didn’t even finish my sentence!
Andrew: And you think that matters to my response?
Andrew: What a fruit loop! I’m already engaged to the hottest chick in the world!
Andrew: Um… Chelsea? Surely you got a picture!
Oh! Um… well… of course!
Vanessa: Can we please focus on my nervous breakdown?
I’d be pretty upset if someone dressed like THAT rejected me, too.
Where’d all this crap come from?
Vanessa: My inventory.
And why did it come out of your inventory?
Vanessa: I want to make sure it all burns up properly.
Now wait, wait a second! Andrew’s not exactly batting a thousand on the “saving burning people from death” statistic!
Vanessa: That’s okay, I’m not really expecting him to, especially with my dresser in front of the door.
So… you’re killing yourself.
Vanessa: The way I see it, maybe somebody will resurrect me fifty years from now when all the scary people are dead.
What a ghetto time machine. That can’t seriously be the reason.
Vanessa: Maybe you’re tired of playing so many Sims?
Alright, well… what’s with the dress?
Vanessa: I always wanted to leave a good-looking pile of ashes.
Vanessa: Time to let ‘er rip!
Not even gonna leave a note?
Vanessa: I think my whole room burned to a crisp says pretty much everything that needs to be said.
Vanessa: What a civilized, dignified way to go.
Vanessa: AUUUUUUGH FUCK SHIT PISS I’M ON FIRE!
Yeah, I didn’t want to point out that one rather obvious drawback of your plan.
Vanessa: MY EYEBALLS ARE POPPING
Vanessa: THEY SMELL LIKE MICROWAVED EGGS
What makes this otherwise poignant picture kind of hilarious in retrospect is that I later realized it was a picture of VIRGINIA, not Vanessa.
“I killed myself because you read a book to my sister!”
Pretty funny, huh guys?
Virginia: I just lost my sister!
Andrew: I rejected her just before she killed herself!
Don: I rejected her just before she killed herself too!
Andrew: What? Seriously?
Douchebag in the Background: I’m a douchebag in the background!
Andrew: Quick, the door’s clear OH MY GOD WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS
Shannon: WHY WAS SHE KEEPING SO MUCH FIRE IN HERE
The Grim Reaper: I’M PRETTY SURE THIS PILE RIGHT HERE IS THE BLONDE ONE, BUT WHERE’S THE REDHEAD?
Andrew: Huh? What redhead?
YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!
Alright Don, off to the Secret Society! This will not stand.
Don: So… how much does it cost to resurrect someone properly?
I’m not really sure.
Don: Alright, I’ll test it out with three thousand bucks. If it costs any more than that, your girls is stayin’ dead.
Apparently three thousand bucks doesn’t buy you a whole heck of a lot. Hey… that hair… wait. Melanie? Don resurrected Melanie?!
I guess you paperpeople gotta stick together, huh.
Melanie: He should have left me dead…
I know, right. It was really disrespectful of your wishes.
Melanie: No. He should have left me dead because NOW I’M GOING TO EAT THE ENTIRE WORLD.
You don’t look too worried, dude.
Trevor: Zombies can’t make you a zombie.
Um… yeah. About that. I downloaded this mod a while back…
Melissa Dalton: He looks like he needs a drink.
I dunno, from where I’m standing it looks more like he needs some braaaaaiiiinnnnsssss.
Alvin Howe: This society has a strict no-zombie rule!
Roger Custer: On account of the fact that I feel like I’m about to become a zombie, I’m thinking we should take a vote on overturning that rule.
Amin Bruty: Can the zombie apocalypse wait until after I’m done my homework?
Trevor: .oO(Amin is so badass!)
Roger: How about a good old-fashioned forwards piledriver, Chris?!
Kevin: DUDE. Dudes don’t touch each other in the BATHROOM, dude. That is TOTALLY against the dude code.
Don: Hey guys! What’s happening? Awesome! Glad to hear it.
Don: I’ma go to class, but I’ll catch you slouches later.
Roger is proving to be an excellent agent of the swarm.
Amin is still standing tall.
Amin: LET THEM COME.
They come. And they hunger.
Melanie: He will make an excellent drone.
Amin: You can take your drone and shove it up your ass, queenie!
Alvin: THERE ARE NO QUEENS IN A CONSTITUTIONAL DEMOCRACY
Amin: Zombies aren’t a constitutional democracy. They’re more like a really slow riot gone wrong.
Melanie: Good, because “Queen of the Zombies” has a really nice ring to it!
Melanie: If it isn’t the zombiefather himself! I think it’s high time we thanked you for our new and exciting un-lives!
Everyone clearly understands the import of this moment…
Don: I don’t want to hug you, Melanie. You smell bad and anyway my fiancé wouldn’t like it.
Don: I distinctly felt a hickey there! How the fuck am I gonna hide that?
Amin: You know, suddenly I’m having a hard time imagining how this might end well for me.
Don: How am I gonna explain this to Kaylynn?
The same way Melanie explained it to you.
Amin: Trying the same thing twice and expecting a different result is the definition of insanity, Kevin.
Kevin: I think you’ll find it’s a pretty passable definition of zombie, too!
Melanie: I’m not sure if I want to pull his brains out or fuck his brains out!
I don’t see why doing one would preclude doing the other, really.
Amin: Look, if I wanted to kick a bunch of smelly mumbling mouth-breathers’ asses I would have just joined a frat.
Amin: IS THAT ALL YOU GOT, YOUR DIENESS? LIGHTWEIGHTS AND NANCYBOYS?!
Melanie: EAT CLEAVAGE, ASSHOLE.
Amin: At least I got the royal treatment. Is there room for a Zombie King?
Melanie: I might be willing to go so far as knave if you ask me really nicely.
Trevor: So… we gonna… eat his brains?
Amin: Watch him dance for a few more seconds and then try telling me he has any brains worth eating.
Amin: PAY ATTENTION TO THE END OF THE MORTAL WORLD WOULD YOU.
Trevor: Yeah! Woo! Zombies!
Amin: First order of business: zombifying some real cheerleaders.
Don: So, no hard feelings about the whole “zombie” thing?
Melanie: I could ask you the same question.
Chris: Sunshine and lollipops!
Hey, Carl, what’s happenin’?
Carl: Nammuch G, jes’ gonna hang it wit’ da boyz an’ have a brewski.
Good luck wit dat. With that. Dammit.
Carl is not the most observant member of the Association…
…but he may be the funkiest.
Amin: You’d think he’d at least notice the smell.
Kevin: How the fuck do we do this, boss?
Amin: I have no idea.
Amin: Hey, Carl?
Amin: STOP FUCKING DANCING.
That’s one way.
Amin: Alright, you may continue.
Carl: I’m not really feeling it anymore.
Kevin bravely sneaks in to take a stealthy shit in Melanie’s private quarters out back.
Kevin: Dude, keep your voice down! She’ll wake up!
What, and make you a DOUBLEPLUS ZOMBIE?
Kevin: Dude! No capital letters! Those are extra loud!
Skylar Miguel: Is that a trace of mockorange on the wind?
Rotting flesh, more like.
Skylar: I can never tell the difference.
It’s subtle, yeah.
Luckily, Skylar doesn’t believe in zombies.
Skylar: ‘sup, Nick!
Skylar: Hey, thanks. You too!
Skylar: Hey Carl! Shall we dance? Heh heh.
Skylar: You know it!
The Dromedarian Association Zomband has been playing for a few hours now. (Thanks go out to my friend Ben for that term.) The lineup is mostly fluid, but for some strange reason Chris can shred on that guitar for days.
Skylar: Wow, nice tunes guys! Really rockin’!
Skylar: This one’s on me!
Don: Gah! Amin, you stink!
Amin: I call it my “competitive advantage.”
Don: Well it fucking works, because you’ve totally killed my appetite.
Skylar: When did you get so huggy, Amin?
At least Don’s a good sport.
Amin: Theme music, Chris!
Chris: – plays “The Monster Mash” –
Amin: BETTER theme music, Chris!
Chris: – plays “Werewolves of London” –
Amin: How are you even doing that without a piano player?!
Everyone is in awe of Amin’s… strength.
Skylar: This… isn’t a Halloween party, is it?
Not exactly, no.
And the band played on.
And on and on and on…
Chris: My talent is wasted on these schlubs.
Yeah, but good look selling tickets to a concert where the front row gets eaten.
I love how, now that everyone’s a zombie, they just went right back to playing chess and getting drunk.
Melissa Dalton: I don’t care what colour their skin is, as long as their money’s good!
Zombies! Feared denizens of darkness! Sadistic masters of the underworld!
Melanie: I think it’s high time I blew off some funk.
You should really hear this shit, it’s fucking freaky.
Especially when Melanie walks up to the mic and recites poetry over it.
The self-preservation instincts of the average Secret Society member are not particularly strong.
Madeleine Alioto: You’re in fine voice tonight, Chris! How are you doing that sultry rasp?
Chris: I swallowed a vocal cord, that’s how.
Madeleine: That kind of dedication has got to be worth an extra tip!
Madeleine: I didn’t know there was a mosh pit!
Madeleine: But I was pretty!
And now you’re pretty dead.
Chris: Let’s see… carry the twelve…
Chris: What’s the exchange rate on rupees?
Pretty crap, the fucking things are everywhere. Pots, crates, grass…
Chris: Well, conservatively, I’d say I’ve made about seventy-eight thousand dollars.
Don: If you’re looking for an investment opportunity, I’ve been thinking about digging a big black pit in Pine Valley and filling it with ravenous zombies.
Chris: Go on!
Well? Is it everything you hoped for and more?
Melanie: Enh, it’s a living.
Melanie: Get it?
The secret is out.
Whew, that was grueling, eh? It’s going to get a whole hell of a lot worse before it gets better, if it ever does. The zombie apocalypse is in full swing next update! Expect the unexpected.
Comments are always welcome on any entry, no matter its age, and all comments will likely be responded to.
You’ve been warned!