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.
Chapter Twenty-Nine, baby! Make sure you check out Chapter Twenty-Eight first. If you haven’t checked on me recently because of my absence, you probably missed it.
Last time in the Pine Valley Chronicles…
This is a shorter update than usual. Stop sighing in relief, you wusses.
So anyway: no more cast list! I originally replaced it with a handy chart, but I lost it, so… tough luck for you!
Off we go!
-THE PRICE HOUSEHOLD-
(consisting of a zombie serial killer, the father of his dead girlfriend, and assorted bimbos)
I’m sure there’s a perfectly logical explanation for this.
I stand corrected.
Peter: Good morning, Bradley!
Bradley: Good morning, you horrible little monster!
Peter: Chelsea died yesterday.
Peter: It’s an inconvenience, to be sure, but it’s also an opportunity…
Peter: …to do some house cleaning.
Bradley: Whoa, hold on there son!
Peter: I don’t have to hold on, it stays up like that on its own.
Bradley: …ugh. Never mind. Just shoot me.
Bradley: I guess I’m supposed to clutch my windpipe, like this, and pretend like I’m choking? I don’t really breathe anymore.
Bradley: I’m heading towards the light…
Peter: That’s my penis.
Bradley: Hell of a way to find out I’m gay.
Machine Gun: DAKKADAKKADAKKADAKKADAKKADAKKADAKKADAKKADAKKADAKKA
Bradley: You can take my life… but you’ll never take… my freedom!
Peter: I’ll take that bet, and your freedom too.
Peter: Right, moving along.
Kaylynn: Whew… it was all just a bad dream!
How certain are you of that?
Kaylynn: Excuse me! Do you have any sense of privacy at all?
Peter: Your bedroom is a side porch.
Kaylynn: And I’ll thank you to respect that!
Kaylynn: OH MY GOD HE’S SNAPPED! AGAIN!
Peter: AHAHAHAHAHAHAH DIE BITCH DIE
Lora: Mmmmf not yet mommy five more minutes
Kaylynn: So bright… so shiny…
Peter: I wax it every morning…
Peter: …and I whacks it every night! AHAHAHAHA!
Kaylynn: If you’re already gonna kill me, do you really have to torture me too?
Peter: I have ways of waking you up, you know.
Lora: If I can’t see you, you’re not there.
Lora: -sigh- Fine.
Peter: Whoa, you’re actually kinda hot.
Lora: That means a lot, coming from you. The psychopathic murderer.
Peter: Thanks! That means a lot, coming from you. The future bag of fertilizer.
Lora: I don’t even know why I’m shocked! I knew you were gonna shoot me!
The Grim Reaper: IT’S HARD CODED INTO THE GAME.
Lora: Jesus CHRIST it’s light out now, how long are you planning to do this for?!
Peter: I’m playing keep-away with the Grim Reaper!
The Grim Reaper: I CAN STRETCH THIS PAPERWORK OUT INDEFINITELY, BUDDY. YOU DON’T HAVE A CHANCE.
The Grim Reaper: TRY IT, BITCH.
Ramin: Whoah, hey, I see you guys are busy, I’ll come back later.
Peter: Yeah, do you guys mind? I’m trying to kill somebody here.
The Grim Reaper: IT’S NOT MY FAULT YOUR PORCH IS SO SMALL.
Daryl: Does this mean I don’t have to make these beds anymore? Because that would be awesome.
Bradley: Off to my well-earned eternal rest!
In this neighbourhood? In this house? Good luck with that.
Daryl: What should I do, Grey Lady of SimCity? Bust of Tylopoda says I should run, but I wanted to get a second opinion.
Peter: Are we still doing that stupid “talking to the statues” gag? That was like ten updates ago. Get some new material.
Hey, fuck you.
Peter: I hope Grimmy lets me have a nibble before he takes you away.
Daryl: Save me, Grey Lady of SimCity!
Peter: Are you just doing that just to piss me off now?
Daryl: You’re shooting me. I don’t think you have a right to complain.
The Grey Lady of SimCity: Whoah, WHOAH. Hey Daryl. Sorry, I was on the other line. Yeah, you probably should have run away. Sorry?
Daryl: Stupid fucking statue.
The Grim Reaper: I DON’T KNOW WHO THIS GUY IS. DO YOU KNOW WHO THIS GUY IS?
The Grey Lady of SimCity: I didn’t see nothin’.
Peter: What? Evil is hungry work.
Daryl: Well, I guess it’s off to the big servant’s quarters in the sky.
Flamingo: There’s no butler heaven.
Daryl: INANIMATE OBJECTS STOP TALKING NOW.
Flamingo: You’re an inanimate object.
Yes, he is, and I second his request.
Oh, I forgot about you entirely.
Randy: Heh heh, that’s weird, my mom used to tell me the exact same thing! Usually on my birthday.
Peter: Dress… dress… fuck, it’s all dresses. I don’t think I want THAT MUCH Norman Bates going on.
Just put some fucking clothes on, dude. It’s a pain in the ass having to upload pictures of naked zombies to a porn host.
Peter: Right, now that everything’s in order…
Wow… he actually Wants to resurrect Chelsea. That’s… very out of character.
Peter: Well of COURSE I do! I appreciate a good pair of tits as much as the next slavering zombie.
Chelsea: Woohoo! I’m back, baby!
Yeah… lucky you.
Peter: Woo! Yeah! I forgot how awesome your tits were.
Get Married… Have a Baby… WHOSE WANTS ARE THESE? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH CHELSEA?!
Make a Zombie out of Randy… Make a Zombie out of Bradley… Make a Zombie out of Lora… Make a Zombie out of Kaylynn… yep, everything seems to be in order here.
Peter: Now, I don’t mean to rush you, but I did just save your life, so I think a celebratory blowjob might just be in order.
Chelsea: Peter, you’re such a romantic.
Peter: Whoah, I thought you were being sarcastic!
Chelsea: I was, but I’m also a horny slut.
Peter: We were meant for each other.
Chelsea: It’s so exciting, fooling around when we know that any minute my dad, or your brother, or those three girls you inexplicably keep around might walk in on us!
Peter: Yeah, that is definitely a thing which could happen.
Chelsea: This is where being undead really helps.
I don’t want to know.
Chelsea: No gag reflex.
I DIDN’T WANT TO KNOW!
Peter: Oh, by the way, before I forget… your dad went crazy and I had to kill him.
Peter: I don’t know why she’s so freaking upset, sheesh. It’s not like I told her that I actually shot him to death for shits and giggles. Then she’d at least have something to complain about.
Peter: Well, off to my secret basement hideout.
Since when do you have a secret basement hideout?
Peter: Since I decided I needed one.
And why do you need one?
Peter: I need somewhere to keep my stuff.
Peter: You’ll see.
Peter: I’m so nefarious I could kiss myself.
Peter: Let’s have the hot one first!
Lora: OH MERCIFUL MAKER WHY
Because evil is funny, I’m sorry.
Bradley: What the hell? I was just gonna fuck my wife!
Peter: Yeah, right. Your wife was way too hot for you. She’s probably screwing the whole afterlife all at once.
Bradley: Well… okay, yes, but my number was coming up soon!
Bradley: Did you hear the one about the lounge lizard who got his face burned off?
Lora: No, but I desperately want to!
Bradley: He got his ass kicked…
Bradley: …by my daughter! The one you haven’t met. I think?
Lora: What about the facemelting part?
Bradley: That’s a different story.
Lora: Why didn’t I get to hear that story instead?
Bradley: Because you AREN’T WORTHY.
Lora: You’re an insane old man.
Peter: Up and at ’em, Randy my boy.
Randy: Fuck off, seriously? Snnnrrk. Why can’t you let dead dogs die?
Lora: Okay, I’ve got one. There was this girl, right? A blonde. In a really stupid costume.
Bradley: I follow you.
Lora: Now get this… she lost a fight… with…
Randy: OH MY GOD I’M A DISGUSTING ZOMBIE
Lora: Well, there goes my timing.
Bradley: It had all the makings of a good joke. -plusplus-
Lora: Thank you. -plusplus-
Peter: Seriously? They put you back in that costume every time?
Kaylynn: Cheerleader hell is a very unpleasant place.
NOW he wants to get a huge plant, have it eat everyone, and drink the milk created thereby. Supervillain much, Peter?
Peter: What the FUCK, Randy?!
Peter: You KNOW what you did.
Randy: I do?
Peter: You little SHIT.
Randy: I’m sorry?
Kaylynn: I feel like a fucking genie. “Come on out of hell, Kaylynn!” And then he stuffs me right back in again. Rinse, repeat.
Lora: I have no idea what you’re talking about.
Bradley: YOU FUCKING SUITCASE!
Bradley: YOU KNOW WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT YOU FUCKING SUITCASE!
Peter: I can see you’re all getting along famously. I’ll leave you to it.
Peter: Alright baby, ready to take a ride on the necrotic express?
Chelsea: Here’s hoping it doesn’t fall off again! We’re almost out of glue.
Bradley: I’m not saying you’re bad people, necessarily. I’m just saying you all bug the everloving FUCK out of me, and I wish you were all still dead.
Bradley: Was it something I said? What?
If four zombies are unwashed in a basement, and there are no living people to smell them, do they still stink?
Apparently they do.
Randy: I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU CALLED ME A SUITCASE
Bradley: Get that finger off my shirt!
Randy: I can’t, it just BROKE.
Bradley: Lora is HOT!
I’m glad you’re not too focused on that whole “locked in a basement by a serial killer” thing.
-THE MURPHY HOUSEHOLD-
(consisting of a vampire and her few surviving children)
Shadow: .oO(It’s okay, the cat can live without food, nobody hurry up and feed the cat, oh no, good heavens no.)
Shadow: .oO(Goddamn zombies.)
Stewart: Can I come in?
Stewart: But not through that door?
Stewart: Any particular reason?
Stewart: So yeah, Asia, if you wanna come over, it’s just me, my demon butler, possibly my only living sibling, and my vampire mom asleep in her tomb. If that sounds cool to you. It does? …really? Wow.
It’s a beautiful day in the neighbourhood.
A beautiful day for a makeover!
Again, this is more for his benefit than mine. I don’t know many people who are only attracted to BRUNETTES… weirdo.
Man. Get this girl some default eye replacements, stat. Ugh.
Wow. Bitches love haircuts, apparently.
What you up to, kiddo?
Leonard: Thinking about our evil butler.
That can’t be healthy.
Stewart: Mmm… mmm. I’m so glad you’re not a zombie.
Asia: Why would I be a zombie?
Stewart: At this point? Demographics.
Leonard: And then there’s my zombie vampire mom, who doesn’t love us…
Yeah… sorry about your luck, there…
Leonard: Who the hell is that? Is that some random zombie chick? I don’t think these are even my own thought bubbles.
Your neighbourhood is buggy as fuck, I wouldn’t be surprised.
Leonard: Anyway, I’m also thinking about my vampire brother who burned to death in the bathroom in our old house…
That one was kinda my fault, yeah…
Leonard: At least one of my family members hasn’t died horribly. La la la…
Leonard: …la la la ZOMBIES ZOMBIES OH MY GOD ZOMBIES I SAW THIS WOMAN EATEN BY FLIES
You’re all kinds of messed up, eh?
Sullivan: YOU TAKE THAT BACK RIGHT THIS MINUTE YOU PINK BASTARD
Asia: I love you, Stewart.
Stewart: I lust you too.
Asia: I said “love.”
Stewart: I heard you.
Abigail: Alright! I shall call you SSC02-WEDNESDAY.
Abigail: Waveform-Enabled Degenerative Necrobiosis Excision System Designed by Abigail Young.
That’s awesome. Now try not to attack this one immediately.
WEDNESDAY: Comment: Hey, nice tits!
Abigail: I did not design you gay. Cut that out.
WEDNESDAY: Response: I’m sorry, I guess my compliment subroutines still have some bugs to be worked out.
Whoah! I left you alone for ten seconds, tops!
Stewart: Ten seconds is all I need!
Asia: If ten seconds is all you can give me, you’re not getting your penis back. I’ll do it myself.
Stewart: Holy SHIT. This is even better than disintegrating people!
Asia: …come again?
Stewart: What, already?
Sullivan: HAHAHAHA STUPID FUCKING CAT.
Shadow: .oO(It’s not like I have anything else to do… like EAT…)
WEDNESDAY: Greeting: Hello, Master (Subset: Teen) Stewart! My name is WEDNESDAY, and I am pleased to be of service to you!
Asia: OH! OH! OH!
Stewart: Hello, WEDNESDAY! This is perhaps not the best time.
WEDNESDAY: Query: Hey, it looks like you’re fucking your girlfriend! Would you like help?
Stewart: Not really?
Asia: Now hang on, let’s not be hasty!
WEDNESDAY: Comment: I’ll just hang around over here in case you need me.
Stewart: Yeah, that’s not… less than optimal…
Stewart: So… that was awkward.
Asia: I LIKE YOUR ROBOT! 😀
WEDNESDAY: Query: And what are we up to now, Master (Subset: Prime) Abigail?
Abigail: Studying physiology.
Sullivan: In my day we used to dissect live orphans to learn about physiology.
Abigail: That’s because back in your day you were a hellspawned demon.
Sullivan: Yeah, I miss that.
Back in the saddle so soon?
Stewart: It’s a very comfortable saddle.
WEDNESDAY: Comment: Look, Colleague (Subset: Butler) Sullivan! A goose!
Sullivan: ANOTHER FUCKING ROBOT?!?!
WEDNESDAY: Reponse: Oh, indeed. I am programmed in multiple techniques.
Sullivan: So, you wanna make out first, or can we cut to the chase?
WEDNESDAY: Response: My services are restricted to Master-designate Sims.
Sullivan: Alright, just remember that I sought your consent first.
WEDNESDAY: Comment: I am also trained in multiple forms of self-defense.
Sullivan: Stupid robot bitch.
Asia: But seriously, the robot can watch if you want.
Stewart: That is not a thing I want.
Asia: Well maybe it’s a thing I want.
Stewart: WELL MAYBE THAT’S FUCKING CREEPY
Sullivan: I have a degree in mechanical engineering.
WEDNESDAY: Response: Oh baby, you know just how to turn my crank!
WEDNESDAY: But seriously, what the fuck is up with that vampire?
Sullivan: I know, right?
Stewart: Tickle monster!
WEDNESDAY: Request: Visitor (Subset: Unknown) Tickle Monster, cease your unprovoked attack immediately!
WEDNESDAY: But seriously, were you ever gonna feed your fucking cat?
Next update: THE CURE FOR THE ZOMBIE PLAGUE! Probably.