The Pine Valley Chronicles, Chapter Forty-Eight

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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Damn, but it’s nice to have a buffer of completed entries! We’re free and clear to Chapter Fifty, baby!

I wasn’t gonna post this one so soon, but what the hell. You’ve been good, so I’ll be good back at you.

Last time in the Pine Valley Chronicles…

If you missed that chapter, GO THE FUCK BACK AND READ IT.

Perhaps you’ll recall that Chelsea moved out of her dad’s mansion after her dad murdered her boyfriend. Well, she just moved in to the house where she was born.

Which, like the Murphy house, was also bugged out and needed to be rebuilt. Fuck. I’ll spare you the details.

You’re not really sticking with this Life Sciences thing?

Chelsea: Peter wanted me to grow him a special plant!

Let me guess. Its botanical name was Laganaphyllis Simnovorii?

Chelsea: How did you know?!

Because I knew your boyfriend really well.

What are you doing.

Chelsea: What do you think?

Come on. He’s a murderer. Worse, he’s a douchebag.

Genie: Blah blah blah three wishes blah blah blah wisely blah.

Chelsea: I want you to resurrect Peter Reiner.
Genie: Can I resurrect him as a zombie?
Chelsea: No!
Genie: I think I will anyway.


Chelsea: Peter! You’re back!
Peter: Do I know you?
Chelsea: It’s me! Chelsea! Your girlfriend!
Peter: Oh. Right. The sugar momma. Sorry.

Chelsea: And for my second wish, I want a whole fuckton of money.
Genie: Metric fuckton or imperial fuckton?
Chelsea: Whichever is heavier.

Chelsea: Awesome! I’ll use this bag of cash to repair the hole in the roof this bag of cash just made!

Peter: She resurrects me when I’m dead, she makes money fall from the sky… what more can a man ask for, really?

Basic observational skills, maybe?

Peter: What? Fuck no.

Well, I can see you’ve learned your lesson.


Chelsea: Shoo! I’m trying to pee through my underwear!
Bag o’ Simoleons: -is mortified-

Peter: Excellent, she’s gone! Now I can begin executing my nefarious plans!

Not really, dude. The moment the game realizes she’s left the lot, I’m gonna get yanked after her. You won’t even notice a single second going by before we get back.

Peter: Man… fuck this game.

Gonna buy some more sensible clothes?

Chelsea: Nope! Gonna buy some equally-insensible ones that match my decor better.

Lora: I mean look at us! We could be twins!
Lucas: Are you having a twins fetish, chiquita?
Lora: What? No!
Lucas: Then please be changing the topic to fetishes you are having.
Lora: You’re a pig.
Lucas: Ah. You are having a barnyard fetish.

Kendal Thompson: He’s so dreamy!

In a nightmarish kind of way.

Brady: That’ll be ยง5, ma’am!
Chelsea: What?! Five bucks?! Why is it so cheap?
Brady: Because you just bought like one square foot of fabric!

Yeah, just a -little- too slutty, honey.

Chelsea: Is it the transparency?

On your underwear? Yeah, it’s the fucking transparency.

And ogling the manwhore isn’t helping your image much either.

That’s better. A much more elegant ensemble of underwear and… and… whoa. You’re not wearing a bra.

Chelsea: I’m willing to concede the point of the transparent underwear, but I gotta show off some of the goods.

Oh, sorry, I think you misunderstood me just now. I think you thought I was complaining.

“Fall in Love with Andrew”? He’s kinda married to your sister, Chelsea. The last time you cheated on her man, she killed her man with an axe. Pick someone more reasonable.

Alright, FINE. But when your crotch itches tomorrow morning don’t come crying to me.

Lucas: Oh my god, it’s full of genitals!

Chelsea: Wanna get out of here, buddy? Find someplace less this woman looming over us?

Venkat Hogan: Jumproping inside! It’s the craze that’s sweeping the SimNation!
Andrew: Must… control… fist of death…

Really? Must you?

Chelsea: For you!
Lucas: Is for fight? Is for eat?!

Chelsea: Is for sex.

Lucas: Your terms are super acceptable.

So is this outfit. I can’t decide if further customizing custom content is a hobby or a disorder for me.

What are you doing.

Scot Macarevich the Infallibly Good Warlock: I have no idea.


Scot Macarevich the Infallibly Good Warlock: What? What is it?


Scot Macarevich the Infallibly Good Warlock: GET IT OFF GET IT OFF GET IT OFF

Chelsea: Pleased to meet you, Scot!
Lucas: -impromptu game of Red Rover-

Chelsea: I’m always happy to meet new people! For sex! Later!

Ugh. I think I’m gonna be sick.

Lucas: This man is lucky.
Chelsea: Why’s that?
Lucas: To my people, the butterfly sandwich is a great delicacy.
Chelsea: You’re making that up.
Lucas: I have always wanted to eat butterflies, though.
Chelsea: Now that, that I believe.

Chelsea: This dude is so easy!
Lucas: I was going to be saying that about you!
Shane Baena: Come back! Dammit! I’ll never catch enough for a butterfly sandwich at this rate!

Lucas: Did you get the shot?

I got the shot.

Lucas: I will be sending you my email address later.

Hey, from this angle he doesn’t look like an abomination.

Chelsea: Well he doesn’t taste any different, let me tell you.

Chelsea: So, what are these big strong arms rated at?
Lucas: I do not know. I have never been lifting the fatties before.
Chelsea: We’ll just have to chance it, then.

Having second thoughts?

Chelsea: I can feel his dick on my ass.

Chelsea: And it is awesome.

Chelsea: Calm down there, bucko! It’s not like you’ve never kissed a girl before!
Lucas: You do not know the harrowing harlots I have been subjected to of late, chiquita.

Believe him when he says that.


I bet if their ads looked like this, more people would play.

Uh, whoops. Time to go.

Yes, yes, but is he hot enough to get eaten over?

Chelsea: DAMN NEAR.

Chelsea: It’s been a great date, Lucas, but I’ve had enough of being a zombie for one lifetime. Watch your back.
Lucas: And you, chiquita.
Chelsea: No, I mean literally watch your back. Like right now. There’s a zombie behind you.

Autumn: Hi Chelsea!
Chelsea: I was just leaving!
Autumn: Okay! Let’s hang out sometime, maybe get some brains, go dancing!
Chelsea: That sounds nice! Bye!

Shane: Hello! Would you like a butterfly sandwich?
Autumn: I was thinking something less crunchy and a little more tender.
Lucas: Oh, glorious ladybottom. I will plumb your mysterious depths before long.

Hey, aren’t you gonna complain?

Mrs. Crumplebottom: About what.

About what Chelsea’s wearing?

Mrs. Crumplebottom: I don’t know what she’s wearing. Every time I look at her I pass out.

Lucas: Your taxi is slow, chiquita. Come, let us remove your genital wrappings.

Mrs. Crumplebottom: -knits furiously-

Chelsea: You should get a shot of this.

Way ahead of you.

Lucas: If your murderman ever leaves you, chiquita, you have my number.
Chelsea: I’ll consider it, Lucas. On one condition.
Lucas: Name it!
Chelsea: SPEAK ALL ENGLISH OR ALL SPANISH. You sound like a retard when you mix them.

Lucas: Open your shirt more and I will consider this offer.
Chelsea: Whoops, there’s my taxi.

Oh, thank god, we’re leaving just in time.

Deborah: Hi everybody! Did I miss anything?

You just barely missed ruining everything with your boring boringitude.

Deborah: Damn! I was really looking forward to that!

FUCKING HOT. Look, you’re even causing graphical tearing with your hotness.

Chelsea: It was nice meeting you, Gina!
Gina Hiatt: SHH! Don’t say my name! You say my name, and then I’m a character, and then before you know it zombies and axes and oh shit I gotta get out of here.

Chelsea: Did you miss me while I was gone?
Peter: I didn’t perceive your absence.
Chelsea: That’s so sweet!

Chelsea: Let’s procreate!
Peter: Capital idea!

Chelsea: That wasn’t actually “Try for Baby,” was it?

I’m not telling.

“Make a Zombie Be a Zombie Make a Zombie.” You’re really something, Peter.

Peter: Hi, everyone! WE DON’T WANT ANY.

Peter: Now get off my lawn before I shoot you all.

Chelsea: Yeah, yeah. I know. But he’s a freakin’ fireman, or something, mom! Well, I dunno, I think he’s a fireman. That’s what he tells me. And he’s always coming home covered in blood. They still use blood to put out fires, right? Well I’m pretty sure they did at one point, mom, I’m not stupid.

Chelsea: Well it doesn’t matter anyway. He’s hot, and that’s all that matters. Yes, he’s hot. NO YOU CANNOT MEET HIM.

Peter: Right, one more rehearsal. “Oh, not much, put out a few fires, tried to keep my eyes open.”

Chelsea: And he gets paid really well too! Oh, hey honey! How was work?
Peter: Oh, not much, put out a few eyes, tried to keep my fires FUCK.

Peter: I need to kill some people, that always relaxes me.

Ah, basements. So many uses, such a pain in the ass to make.

Good idea, leave it to age a bit. The banks are really on the lookout for magic sky counterfeiting these days.

And what are you looking at?

Chelsea: You. Because you’ve been staring at me from this angle for a good five minutes.

Well it’s a REALLY NICE ANGLE okay.

Chelsea: Oh, hey Scot! Sure, come on over! I’ll introduce you to Peter! I think he’s just getting cleaned up.

Doesn’t this ever get boring to you?

Peter: Do you get bored with your hobbies?

My hobbies don’t cost like three thousand dollars a pop.

Peter: What rough beast is this?
Kaylynn: -slouches-

Kaylynn: Am I alive or dead? Which is this? I can’t keep track anymore!

It might not even be worth telling you.

Aww! That’s not going to happen.

You’d need to not be dead for three whole days in a row.

…is that “Drink Randy” on there?

Well, he does sorta suck.

Scot: I must say, you have a delightful fashion sense!
Chelsea: Aww, thanks! That means absolutely nothing coming from you!

Chelsea: What say I try and get you a little hotter under that ridiculous, ridiculous collar?

Peter: What?! You’ve been a zombie longer than you’ve been NOT a zombie!
Kaylynn: Well, do you always wanna be a douchebag?

Peter: Torturing these innocents is satisfying, but I feel like I could be doing more somehow.
Kaylynn: Oh SimChrist, don’t let him get creative now.

Scot: No! I mean, I’m sorry, but I just can’t be with someone who isn’t magic!


Scot: …did you just make a bag of money fall out of the sky?
Chelsea: Who’s magic now, bitch?

God, why don’t you two just fuck already and be done with it.

Kaylynn: Witness your own defeat from every angle!
Randy: Yeah, what’s with all these mirrors eh?
Kaylynn: Kinda weird, won’t lie.

Kaylynn: SMELLS

What smells?

Kaylynn: NO

Chelsea: And another thing! My mother seems to think there’s NO PRACTICAL USE for blood in firefighting!
Peter: Maybe your mother needs to stop being such a meddling bitch.
Chelsea: What was that?
Chelsea: Oh, okay. You just need to talk louder, is all.

Randy: My eyyyyyyyyes!

Look away!

Randy: When you stare into the ass crack, the ass crack stares also into youuuuuuu!

Wow. You got lucky.

Kaylynn: I’ve been killed six times. You could say luck owes me one.

I’d say it owes you six, actually.

Good luck collecting.

I find luck tends to welch.

Chelsea: Are you whistling the theme from “Psycho”?
Peter: Maybe?
Chelsea: It’s the one where the guy kills people and dresses like his mother.
Peter: Yes! Yes. That is what I was doing.

Randy: Are you sure that’s a good idea? Snrrrrk.
Kaylynn: I have Gold Aspiration, what could go wrong?
Randy: Gold? I thought it said “Platinum” on the bottle.

Yeah. It did.

Randy: Hey Kaylynn? Hey Kaylynn? Are you dying, Kaylynn? Are you dying? Huh? Huh? Huh? Snrrrk.

Randy: Looks like you’re dying to me, Kaylynn! Snrrk. Snrrrk. Snrrrrrrrrrrrrk!

Randy: Stupid bitch.

Wow, that was fast. I didn’t even see the urn before you did that.

Did you just turn Kaylynn’s urn into a pile of garbage?

Randy: I prefer to think of it as revealing her true nature, snrrk.

Enh, not bad. I guess all those mirrors had one use, anyway. You look like Cecilia’s university boyfriend she had to kill, though.

Randy: Good. I’m trying to accumulate jinxes to see if they’ll cancel each other out.

Randy: Hey, you know what? I have access to the family funds! Hmm. Now, who should I resurrect? Snrrk.

Randy: Give me the SEXIEST DEAD WOMAN YOU HAVE and spare no expense!

Randy: Oh man oh man oh man, so far so good!

Vicki: BOOYAH! Back in white, baby!

Randy. What did you do, Randy?

Since you’re all drawing a blank, this is who Vicki is.

Randy: Awesome! I didn’t even ask for a serial killer! This online dating thing really works!
Vicki: Who the hell are you? Where’s my husband? Where’s Cecilia Phelps?

Yeah, um, you’ve got a few dozen chapters worth of catching up to do.

1) You have the sexiest smirky portrait picture ever,
2) You’re going to have a great deal of trouble getting that date.

Vicki: Was there a fire? What’s this huge pile of ashes doing here?

It used to be a cheerleader. A long time ago. Before they invented zombies.

Vicki: Come again?


I’m sure she’ll be devastated. I’m sure your approval is so important to her.

Vicki: Right, Vicks. You’re trapped in a basement. With a retard. Time to get serious.

Vicki: There’s just one burning question.

Vicki: Why in the world did you murder all those people?

DUN DUN DUNNNNNNN! Next time: the plot doesn’t thicken, it shifts to some other people. Because that’s how this household cycling thing works. Stupid.

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