The Pine Valley Chronicles, Chapter Sixty-One

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.

Updates on Friday every week!

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Yet another family emergency dealt with. Raise a glass to parents with iron constitutions for me, would you?

Just so you’re aware, this entire update is hosted on the porn host I use. Not because the entire update is porn, although a lot of it kinda is, but because I couldn’t be bothered to find a better way to do it at the moment. Bear with me as I try to overcome the obstacles that Photobucket was kind enough to present me with.

Clearly, anything Cameron can do, Chelsea can do better.


Peter: Man… I haven’t resurrected and killed my brother lately. I should really do that.

Yeah, you wouldn’t want people to think you’re going soft.

Peter: Right, because then I’d have to kill them too.


Pregnant maids: the craze that’s sweeping the nation!

You guys should start a company, and call it “Pregnant Labour.” Hahaha. Get it?

“Cecilia”: Yeah, ha ha. You should start a company. And call it “A Bad Case of the Puns.”

Hey, good idea! Snappy name, too.

“Cecilia:” Oh, for fuck’s sake.

“Cecilia:” Can’t you just leave me to my Cinderella fantasy, so I can pretend you’re getting your eyes pecked out by crows?

I always wondered why they left that part out of the Disney version.

Peter: Look, I’m really sorry I made you think I was single when we met. If it helps any, my girlfriend is a total slut and probably wouldn’t mind if I gave you sloppy seconds.
“Cecilia”: Why can’t you people ever use that preface on things that actually might help?

“Cecilia”: Anyway, no. Go away. You’re evil. And you have bad breath.

Peter: Hewwo, little Sharpe spawn! Are you wooking forward to meeting your stupid jerk brother and his stupid zombie wife? Are you? Are you?!
“Cecilia:” Talk to my baby one more time and I’m sending you to meet his stupid dead father.

“Cecilia”: This is rapidly devolving into hatefuck territory.
Peter: And I’m not into fat chicks, so that’s not cool.
“Cecilia”: Does being pregnant count as being fat?
Peter: Does having your limbs melted off with acid count as being ugly? YES IT DOES.


“Cecilia”: Come back when you invent murder. Oh, wait, you can’t. Because I already did.

“Cecilia”: And I used to eat brawny morons like you for breakfast.
Peter: Really? Because according to our files at ENTROPY, all you managed to do was kill a few elderly people and a couple of harmless idiots.
“Cecilia”: Guess which category I put you in?

Peter: Anyway, that’s all irrelevant. We were mind-controlling you back then; you wouldn’t hurt a fly now. These days, there’s a new serial killer on the block.
“Cecilia”: She’ll be on the chopping block if I ever get hold of her.
Peter: She’s in hiding, you’ve stolen her name, what more do you want?


Peter: You must not have heard a lot about the last twenty years.

Peter: Hey! Don’t walk away from me!
“Cecilia”: Yeah, because that’s a really illogical response to some naked dude barging in on you when you’re trying to use the bathroom.

Peter: The refrigerator makes me feel a lot less sick.

Peter: That is, assuming I read that expiry date correctly.

Gruglysims, your #1 source for frowning naked people on couches.

Peter: Man, fuck that bitch. When we made her into a serial killer, I thought she was so cool.

Peter: Maybe she’ll still go down cool, though.

Peter: When I drink her. Like I drank my brother.

Yes, we get it.

Peter: After he got eaten by that cow plant thing.


“Cecilia”: Motherfucker can clean up his own messes from now on.

“Cecilia”: Whilst I clean out his fridge.

I’m pretty sure things in this household should be a lot more lively with two mass murderers knocking about.

Chelsea: How come your car doors are panelled with drywall, guy?


Chelsea: And now, to quit my job.

Is there an opening in the stupid slut career?

Chelsea: There doesn’t need to be, I’ve got dozens of standing offers.

Great Moments in Engineering: taking one of the most destructive substances in the world, and then pressurizing it.

I don’t need your shit right now, lady. If you’re walking around people’s garbage cans at 2AM looking for something to impress you, then you just don’t deserve to be impressed.

Chelsea: This new fountain is awesome! I can pretend to sing in the shower now, only without the irritating echo chamber effect!

I like your sister a lot better.

A bit peckish, eh? Thought you might make a nice quick midnight snack of ENTIRE TURKEY, eh?

“Cecilia”: Pregnancy. And we’re only assuming this is a turkey… I just got up, my mind’s a bit fuzzy, the graphics are pretty indistinct, and since this came out of Peter’s fridge it could very well be one of the neighbours.

I took this picture because I wanted to mention that the dude who did that painting had no idea how to paint an African Grey Parrot.

That is the reason I took this picture.

This one is harder to make up an excuse for.

Peter: Why are you staring into space?
Chelsea: God is taking naked pictures of me.
Peter: Oh, okay.

“Cecilia”: Well, Peter. I cooked your turkey.


Peter: Hey Randy, by the way, fuck your urn.

Peter: Fuck your urn in the garbage.


If something happened in this household, I suspect my mind would reject it as an anomaly.

Peter: Hey baby, wanna reject my anomaly?
Chelsea: That’s not a sex metaphor. That’s… that’s a metaphor for “Not tonight, I have a headache.”

Chelsea: When I was younger, my mother had green skin and played rock music.

Peter: Nothing turns me on like being reminded of your mother!

Peter: Hot chicks are way under-rated as a sleeping aid.

Peter: …did you leave the lights on?

No, they come on when I WAKE YOU UP. On a related note, GET THE FUCK UP ALREADY!

Nathan: Excellent! I’ve got theme music! It’s a bit beepy, though.

You picked like ten kinds of the wrong house to break into, dude.

Peter: Go back to sleep, Chelsea. It’ll take me a few hours to get the blood out of the carpet, so you don’t know that I’ve killed someone.
Chelsea: I appreciate your accommodation of my denial, Peter.

Tyler: Okay! Up to a sprint…

Tyler: In through the door…
Nathan: Why are you running like that?

Tyler: Up in his grill!
Nathan: -oof-

Guys. You’re both naked.

Peter: My house, my dress code.

Tyler: Dammit woman! Put away those nice tits, you’ve giving me neck cramps!

Chelsea: I was sure there was a burglar here a minute ago.

Chelsea: Wait, I think I see him.

Nathan: You can’t look at the tits!
Tyler: No, YOU can’t look at the tits!
Chelsea: We can ALL look at the tits!

Through the magic of internets!

Chelsea: …just so we’re clear… you can’t steal the tits, okay?

Nathan: I’m gonna go Tweet about this!


Tyler: Help! Quick! Have you got any self-esteem hidden around here someplace?!

Nope. Just fake pregnant biker chicks.

By which I mean fake biker chicks who are pregnant.

Not real biker chicks who are fake pregnant.


Tyler: I’m pathetic. Just look at me.
“Cecilia”: No, that’s okay. I trust you.

Chelsea: You’re pretty hot, for a failure.

Chelsea: We should totally fuck.

Chelsea: And then get murdered.
Tyler: I’m going to go see if I’ve got any better offers. I might be back.

Peter: Did I hear you downstairs trying to fuck the policeman?
Chelsea: I thought you could make a copy of his badge for nefarious purposes.
Peter: I was about to beat you, but now I think we need to get married.

Daryl: This camera angle hurts my back.

Daryl: And this shower hurts my soul.

Daryl: But at least there’s chicks in their underwear.

Yeah, at least there’s that.

“Cecilia”: Fucking pregnancy. Where am I gonna get butler milk at four in the morning?

It might be easier than you think.

And if that doesn’t work out, you could always split him open yourself.

It’s not like he doesn’t deserve it.

Peter: Ouch! Baby, you are hot!
Chelsea: I’m over here.
Peter: Well duh! Mama always told me not to look into the eyes of the sun.

Daryl: What the fuck? How did I get here?
Bradley: I ask myself those same questions every single day.

There’s either something funny or something profound here, and I don’t feel qualified enough to identify it right now.


Fuck! You almost made me miss WHATEVER THE FUCK THIS IS NOW


If you saw what’s inside Bradley’s head, I really don’t want you to tell me about it.

Bradley: The remote doesn’t work.

The remote for what.

Bradley: The wedding arch.

Why would it have a remote.

Bradley: So you can turn it on.

Why would you need to forget it I don’t care.

Bradley: Ready, honey?
Lora: NO

Lora: Don’t I at least get my one phone call first?

Bradley: Is he up there? I think he needs to say a few words.
Lora: Think about it, Bradley. If there was a god, do you think there would be a Pine Valley?

Bradley: Okay, so I wrote out some vows.
Lora: Oh my god, really? You made up some stupid promises you won’t live long enough to keep? I hope they involve your money and your will.


Lora: Every since you swept me onto your dick when we were zombies in a basement, I knew, I really always knew, that you weren’t the one. But I also knew you’d get old and die soon, and I’d get all your stuff, and then I could afford to wait for the one.
Bradley: I know all this stuff already, you tell me every night when we have sex.


Bradley: Alright, fuck it. Let’s just play Red Hands instead. Put ’em up!

Bradley: Fooled you!

Lora: Fool me twice, I’m going for the life insurance money.

Not many people get to pretend they’re kissing Wyatt Earp.

Not many people want to.


Bradley: Oh yeah baby, you’re all mine now! Hop to it! Pop out the babies already!
Lora: I need to go sit down.

Because you’re pregnant?

Lora: No, because I’m married to Bradley.

By all means, loiter on our property. It’s not like LAWS or anything.

This is basically what I see when I picture Lora.

Sometimes I see her doing nothing on the couch, too.

But mostly this.

Daryl: I hate dishes.

Daryl: And cleaning.

Basically you hate butlering.

Daryl: Well, no. I do love the coat tails.

At least you got a nice house out of the deal.

Lora: A nice house I’ll never be able to sell. Pine Valley property is worth ten acres to the nickel.

It’ll go back up in ten thousand years when the whole zombie thing becomes one of those “credible ancients” things and everyone thinks the story just adds “local colour.”

So just wait ten thousand years, is what I’m saying.

Maybe read a book.

Lora: So yeah. Anthony. I just got married to Bradley.
Anthony: That’s all part of the plan, darlin’.
Lora: JR?!?!

Lora: Babies.

Lora: Bradley babies.

Lora: Maybe I’ll die in my sleep instead.

Lora: No, you may NOT watch me take a piss!
Daryl: I just wanted to show you how to do it without MAKING SUCH A GIANT FUCKING MESS, is all.

Daryl: -shudders- Girl cooties.

This is a pretty good representation of my opinion of most football fans.

Come on, dude! Drink the government-regulated roadside zombie disintegration potion! I’ll shout CHUG CHUG CHUG CHUG if it gets you into the mood faster.

Daryl: That can’t be good for the baby.

Bradley: Please tell me I’m seeing this wrong.

Lora: I don’t see what the big fucking deal is.

Bradley: Looking for a job, hot stuff?
Lora: I’m more of a bang-on-your-neighours-all-day sort of girl.
Bradley: Drum. I think. I think you mean drum.
Lora: Yeah, you’re right. It was a Freudian slip.
Bradley: That’s when you say what you mean, not what you mean to say.
Lora: Yes.
Bradley: …okay.

Lora: Now go play your skin flute, honey.

Daryl: Do you have time for some helpful tips?

Bradley: Why did they make the butlers so weird and creepy?
sims2gurl: lol i never saw that i have the sims 2 pets and the sims 2 castway but thats differnt i think
goopy4evs: stop birching about EA u can go 2 hell
benesbenesthemagicalfruit: Have a bene!

Dude, I thought I told you! Never go on the BBS!

I bet this is what I’ll be doing when I’m eighty, too.

This, not so much.

Lora: Help! My face is stuck funny!

Lora: And my vagina is OH MY GODDDD


Bradley: In a minute, hon, we’ve almost downed Sapphiron!

Christ, Bradley, old content much?

Bradley: My computer won’t run the expansions.

But you’re rich.

Bradley: What can I say? I’m a loyal Moneywell customer!


Bradley: I’m gonna have a heart attack!

You can’t even see her!

Bradley: I’m old! I don’t need reasons!

It’s a cliche! I mean, it’s a boy! Say hello to Lance Price.

He’s pretty stoked to be here.

Bradley: Hell of a day to forget my x-ray goggles at work.

Lora: Well, glad that’s over with. Wanna go see your daddy, kid? Mommy’s gotta make a break for the door.

Lora: Here you go! Try not to get any penis on him.

Lora: I’m just gonna mosey on WAIT WHAT’S HAPPENING

Loray: Where the fuck were you hiding?
Baby Boy #2: .oO(I don’t wanna talk about it.)

Then let’s say “hi” to Lewis Price and leave it at that.

I keep hoping Bradley’s eyes will breed out.

At least if you drop him, he’ll land on something springy first.

And be scarred forever.

At least there’s that.


I owe you for this one… whichever commentor I stole it from.

You know who you are?

Because I don’t.

(Okay, yeah, it was ink_sec_sims. Fine.)

Lora: Just so we’re clear: this bottle never comes out. We’re not doing any of that “crying baby” bullshit here. If you need to breathe, USE YOUR NOSE.

Bradley: How come babies can drink breast milk but not penis semen?


Bradley: Okay, that makes sense.

Lewis: .oO(Finally, some peace.)

Lewis: .oO(I thought this chamber of horrors was never going to OH MY GOD WHAT NO)

Got wood?


Bradley: Babies! I’ll write down all the stupid shit they say, and put it in a comic, and get rich for sixty years!

That would never work.

Lora: Augh! Get back! Keep your babymaker to your self!

Bradley: I wonder if these ones will wreck the whole world like the last ones did.

Lora: Did Chelsea wreck the world too? I thought that was just Cameron.
Bradley: I guess you’ve never seen any of Chelsea’s paintings.

Bradley: So, about these babies. I was thinking: three more. Result: baby Voltron!
Lora: I can tell you’ve thought this through.

Lora: So let’s put that plan into motion! And by “that plan” I mean “your penis” and by “into motion” I mean “into my vagina.”
Bradley: Maybe you should have just said it the second way to begin with.

Bradley: Man, you’re a real fox under the sheets! My heart was beating so fast I thought I was going to have a… a…
Lora: A what?
Bradley: A rich widow. I’m on to you, bitch.

Bradley: But I’m too sleepy to care right now.

Me too.

Yeah? You crying? You shitting yourselves?

You see me caring?

Daryl: Aww, what’s wrong, little guys? You know what? I bet I can solve all your problems.


Daryl: Let’s see how far this neck bends! Hahaha! SNAP! Hahahahahaha!

Daryl: Did you shit yourself last night? Did you? DID YOU? Well how about I MAKE YOU SHIT YOURSELF AGAIN? AHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Bradley: I’m glad we can afford to pay for such great childcare.

Daryl: Let’s play “Don’t Step on the Babies!” I hope somebody loses real soon! AHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHHHHAHHHAHHHAHAHHHAHAAH. Ha.

I’d love to stick around and see, but we’re done for the week! Next time: two of my best characters do absolutely nothing worth watching! I hope you’re ready to watch it anyway, because my completionism is more important to me than your precious time.

You losers.

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