The Pine Valley Chronicles, Chapter Thirty-Four

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.

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I can’t believe I’m still on schedule.

Last time in the Pine Valley Chronicles:

And now, my least favourite update in a while! THEY CAN’T ALL BE WINNERS.

-The Murphy Household-
(A mad scientist and his formerly zombie girlfriend)

You’re pretty cute when you’re not a slavering zombie.

Andrew: Alright, the test batch worked beautifully. Let’s churn these puppies out and get them over to Alvin.

You have a puppy churn?

Andrew: Now there’s an image.

I know, right?

Hope is blue. I read that somewhere.

Come on, dude. Stop talking on the big green telephone and let’s get cracking.

Cameron: Bye honey! I’m so proud of you for saving the world!
Andrew: And I don’t know how I feel about you betraying and nearly destroying it!
Cameron: Fair enough!

Alvin: Oh oh, here comes the Sciencemobile! I hope he brought extra Science for sharing.

Don’t get ahead of yourself. Let’s focus on solving the mess she helped make before we start thinking about marrying her.

Andrew: What’s this “we” shit?

Andrew: Here you go. I brought six vials. Aspirationalize them so we can end this terrible horror comedy.
Alvin: Say it.
Andrew: I don’t want to say it.
Alvin: Say it!
Andrew: Why don’t you say it?
Alvin: SAY IT.
Andrew: -sigh- Fine. For science.
Alvin: Let me hear the capital letter.
Andrew: For Science.

Andrew: I’m going to leave now, before I start actually liking you. Because that would be a fate worse than death.
Alvin: Tell me about it!

So… yeah! That took forever. All Sims, if they’ve been leading successful enough lives, will now be able to buy a zombiism cure with their Aspiration Reward Points. If they use one without being successful… well… I’m sure we’ll see soon enough.

Cameron: You think you’ll be able to convince everyone to take the cure?
Andrew: It’s pumped full of cross-gender hormones. They’ll be irresistably drawn to it. We’re working on legislation to make it a legal requirement for people to have a bottle on a table outside their houses, to catch any zombies wandering down the streets.

Cameron: But most of the zombies are Townies, and Townies don’t collect Aspiration Points, and the cure disintegrates people with low Aspirations. Doesn’t it?

Andrew: Yeah, you might not want to look outside for the next few years.

Cameron: They don’t call you a mad scientist for nothing.

Andrew: Mmm. Of course, there’s the matter of punishing the guilty. A lot of people got axed and ventilated because of this, and a lot more are about to get squicked.
Cameron: So I’m going to go to jail?

Andrew: Nah. Turns out there’s no law against being a zombie sympathizer. There probably will be now. But yeah. Your ass is still mine.
Cameron: Take good care of it.
Andrew: I fully intend to.

Aww. It’s so cute when evil carries no consequences.

Why the pose?

Cameron: Andrew’s painting me.

Why the exposition?

Cameron: You didn’t take a picture of Andrew painting me.

Man, I suck.

Cameron: Yes you do.

Cameron: You have no idea how good this feels.

No, but it looks pretty decent.

Hey. I did take a picture of him painting. Why didn’t you tell me? I could have shuffled that other picture forward.

Cameron: You still could.

Yeah, but I’ve got a metatextual joke going now and I don’t want to take it out.


Cameron: Off to work?
Andrew: Yeah, I’ve used up all my vacation days saving the world.
Cameron: It feels like there ought to be an exception for that.
Andrew: Yeah, but again… mad scientists. We only deal with logic in certain scientific senses.

Andrew: If I come home and you have lycanthopy I’m going to shoot you in the face.

Andrew: That goes for you too.
Sheba: Asshole.

Andrew: So, were you, like… waiting here the entire time I was at work?
Cameron: Pretty much, yeah.
Andrew: Glad to see you’re really making the most of your new lease on life.

Andrew: Ugh. Too soon, too soon.

Cameron: Your hands feel like the icy talons of death.
Andrew: Your hair smells nice.

Cameron: Yeah, I didn’t know they made scented delousing shampoo.


I am really not looking forward to any of these babies.

I guess there is rest for the wicked.

Cameron: My hero.

-The Sharpe Household-
(Sharpe, William Sharpe: Secret agent extraordinaire!)

Thank god, you fixed your glasses.

Which makes me realize that your clothes are fucked up too. Goddammit.

Get that stick out of your ass.

Felicia: So, what sort of girl are you looking for exactly?

William: Somebody who lives in Centreborough. Preferably a mature lady. Who likes orange. And has your name.

Felicia: …are you trying to say you want to have sex with me?
William: Hey, I bet nobody’s tried it before. I like thinking outside the box. I’ll do a lot of stuff inside your box, but no thinking. I promise.

Felicia: What ever happened to that nice girl you were dating?
William: She tried to eat my brains so I killed her. Now I’m dating a vampire, only she’s not a vampire anymore. Anyway, come back tomorrow and we’ll fuck. I mean date. I mean fuck.

William: This is my sexy walk.
Felicia: I’m glad you told me, I would never have guessed that in a million years.

William: So yeah, you’re not as ugly in the daylight as I thought you might be.
Felicia: You silver-tongued devil, you.

William: Shift around a little. I can’t see up your dress.
Felicia: I don’t want you to see up my dress.
William: Then I don’t want to talk to you.

Women do love bad boys.

William: Hey, Felicia? Hey. It’s William. Where the fuck did you go? We were on a fucking date. Yeah, you’d better.

Felicia: He’s so sexy when he’s baffled.

I’m baffled too. Where the fuck did you go?

Felicia: My bosses called me in.

Your gypsy bosses?

Felicia: Let’s go with that.

William: Okay, here’s a juicy one. My girlfriend? The famous scientist?
Felicia: Yeah?

William: Caught on fire. Fwoompf. Her son was trying to roast zombies, and she came upstairs and was all like “Hey what’s going on here I’m on fire.” I hear it was hilarious.
Felicia: It sounds hilarious.

William: Wow, is this real silk? Who did you steal it from?
Felicia: That’s racist. And I was acquitted.

William: No offense, but this is as close as I get. Kissing old people is gross.
Felicia: None taken. I agree.

Fate: -is tempted-

Ramin Wade: Hi, Mr. Sharpe!
William: I’m starting to feel like Mr. Wilson.

William: You must use a ton of moisturizer, I can barely feel the leathery wrinkles.
Felicia: Bathing in baby’s blood has that effect.

Felicia: Mmm… William… this date could not possibly get more romantic!

She’s right. It won’t.

William: So roomy!

William: …oh shit.

Come to save your queen, have you?

Vicki: Zombies are the future!

Zombies are the last twenty updates. I’m sick of you fuckers.

Speaking of fuckers…

William: Hey, I don’t suppose you could wait out here for a second? I left my machinegun inside.
Vicki: Sounds reasonable.

Felicia: You’re so hot when you’re abandoning me to my fate.

There is nothing okay about this picture.

That tracksuit is so money.

Felicia: Yes, that’s right , keep him distracted. My mission is nearly complete.

William: It’s kind of hard to shoot someone who’s having an emotional breakdown.

In a technical sense, it should be easier.

Felicia: At last, victory is mine! We could not clone you from your newspapers, Mr. Sharpe, but we will at last taste the sweet savour of success… when we steal… YOUR GARDEN GNOME!

You’re seriously the worst evil organization ever.

William: Alright, I can see you’re going to be a while. Take your time.

Felicia: Curses! I have trapped myself!

So step over the flamingo?

Felicia: Do you always speak such absurdities?

William: Let’s have the gnome back, Felicia.
Felicia: Waugh! NEVER!

Felicia: I curse you… and your family… unto the fiftieth… generation!
William: You’re not… a real… gypsy!

William: I can’t believe I fucked that.


Vicki: I only wish… I could touch… your giant… p… p-p-p…
William: I know, Vicki. I know.

Sloppiest siege ever.

So, are you… just gonna let her go?

William: There’s a corpse in my way!

So… step over it?

William: Do you always speak such absurdities?

William: Could we hurry this along? I’ve got shit to do.
The Grim Reaper: AND I DON’T?

William: mumble grumble path blocking tombstones mumble grumble…

Felicia: I’ll be back, dearies.

You set up Cecilia on a date with Sullivan. You’re staying dead.

This is what’s known as an “insurmountable waist-high fence.”

Got a plan?

Melanie: No, but HE doesn’t need to know that.

Whatcha doin’?

William: Selling my house.

William: Yes, honey… yes, honey… I’ll sell the desk… yes honey… I’ll sell the couch… yes honey… I’ll kill the zombie and remove the zombie storage pool…

William: I love it when I don’t have to call them the day after.

Mystery Walkby Theatre 3000.

Melanie: I feel like one of those horses with a carrot hanging in front of their face.

Melanie: Hey, a ladder!

Melanie: Then they’re not for you either.



William: This hasn’t gone precisely according to plan, I don’t mind telling you…

William: …but all’s well that ends well.

Melanie: What, after all that you’re just gonna shoot me?
William: I prefer to think of it as “packing…”

William: …because there’s some things you just can’t leave to the movers!

William: Move.
The Grim Reaper: NO, YOU MOVE.
William: No, you move.

Apparently neither of them are Captain America.

William: Don’t feel sorry for her. She’ll be in a better place soon.

William: No! Of course not! Unthinkable. Only… keep your cell phone on, okay?

William: I swear I can feel her squirming in the urn.

William: Well, that’s that then.

What? You stole your gnome back? From HELL?

William: Do you doubt it?

Not one bit.

William: A lot of memories in this ol’ house… all of them nightmarish.

William: In retrospect, the gargoyle might have been setting the tone a bit grim from the start.

William: Oh! Oh shit! I almost forgot…

On that depressing note…

Next update, we’re back to MNU for more zombieghostfun! I know y’all love you some zombieghostfun.

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