The Pine Valley Chronicles, Chapter Sixty-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.

Updates on Friday every week!

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Will you still need me? Will you still read me?

And now, the shortest university update ever! This one-semester idea, I don’t mind telling you, is the best idea any of us have ever had.

So naturally it was one of mine.

Last time in the Pine Valley Chronicles…

I’m still so disappointed.

Stephen: I love the smell of hate balloons in the morning!

Ember: Do you mind? Tits and TV don’t make for a very educational atmosphere.
Ally: And tight leather pants do?
Ember: Yes. They constrict the blood flow to my vagina, reserving it for my brain. If you must know.

Ally: Oh, look! There’s a burglar barbecue next Friday.

Stephen: Welp, that’s another term paper over and done with! I sure am proud of putting myself through university. And not being some shitty burglar.

We have got to get you people some new memories.

Gabe: Fada soola gor!
Stephen: You’re blocking the tits.
Gabe: Fada soola bron!
Stephen: If I have to cut myself a window, I will.

Gabe: Fuck it, I give up. You people have no school spirit.
Ally: Why stop now? I’m sure you can drive us into negative numbers if you put your mind to it.

Gabe: So, I understand that this maid thing isn’t paying you well, and it’s great that you’re all set up for a second job here, but don’t hookers usually work nights?

Stephen: MY NAKED MAID IS NAKED

Ally: So, Gabe. What are you gonna do after university?
Gabe: I don’t understand the question.

Reading!

It’s nothing like this.

Oh, women.

You’re all octogenarians.

Vanessa: Pff. Main characters. They’re not so great.

Ember: UNLOCK MY MAID ON FIRE

You know, you’re right. They really aren’t so great.

Whoah whoah whoah never mind.

Ember: I like the impossible missions best.

Like eating an entire group meal plate of pancakes.

And not being a fatty afterward.

You don’t have any classes together, do you?

Ally: I’m a nude model for his art class.

Pff. You could get all your studying done without leaving the house.

Stephen: Yes, but the uncomfortably long staring, and the leering, and the suggestive comments are just no fun when your fiancĂ©’s watching.

Stephen: Oh yeah by the way ASS ATTACK
Ally: Ass surrender!

Ally: Maid mode engaged. Hello Mr. Murphy!
Stephen: Homeowner mode engaged. Hello sexy maid! Let’s go back to flirting now.

Ally: It’s a lovely night for dancing.
Stephen: It’s a better night for fucking.
Ally: Don’t you think you ought to pay Ember some attention?
Stephen: Ember’s gonna live for the next sixty years. You’re barely a secondary character. You’ve probably got an axe in your head five years from now.
Ally: You sure know how to set a romantic mood.

Artist!

Art thyself.

Lots of people want hacks to remove the Young Adult walk.

FUCK lots of people.

Ember: I try!

Stephen: I don’t get it. I’m in fourth year. How are there still written assignments in Art?
Ember: They want to keep up your literacy skills so you can fill out the unemployment insurance paperwork.

Stephen: I FILLED UP THE COUNTERS NOW THE COUNTERS ARE FILLED UP

Oh, cruel random fate! How invisible are your gossamer webs!

Ember: I just don’t see the point anymore. Wooing these old dudes out of their clothes takes about the same amount of time as writing their assignments does. I can do either option in the nude. I can do either option at home. The only difference is, with the papers I get to sit down, and with the fucking, I have to blow gross old people.

Ally: You know you’re an adult when the really difficult decisions start hitting you, huh?

Ember: I’ll just fuck the dean, and it’ll filter down.

I wish I had some power to abuse…

Good thing it’s raining.

I wouldn’t want anyone to see this.

And start a religion.

Stephen: I’M MAD THAT I’M NAKED

That makes two of us.

Ember: NO, I DO NOT WANT ANY MILK.

Ember: But if you’re still here when I come back, I might need to make myself some hamburgers.

Ember: Okay, that’s it. I’m calling my cheerleader and she’s gonna fuck you up.

Elle: Not without some PILLOW TALK first!

Elle: You broke your faucet.

Ally: Not according to the police report I’m about to file. Hey, how do you spell “rapist”? As in “rapist furry”?

Ally: Nothing like a good soak to wash away the stink of the enemy.

Elle: I agree!

Ally: I can see threats aren’t enough with you. Do I literally need to run you out of town on a rail?

Elle: Good luck with that. You need a special permit to transport cattle.

Elle: Oh, look at that! I made a cow joke! Just like you guys do! Aren’t I just so clever?!

Elle: Yeah. That’s right. I’m not.

Yeah. That’s right. She’s not.

Stephen: Who gives a shit about some dead dude and his dumb orchids?
Ember: You should try my PoliSci stuff. It’s all about treaties and economy and shit.
Stephen: This one dude stole a urinal, and put a sign on it that said “this isn’t a urinal,” and they put it in a museum!

Ember: No, you know what, you’re right. Your program is useless.

Stephen: Just think, Ember! This is our last semester! Then we get to go home!
Ember: And die!
Stephen: Pine Valley!
Ember: We really fucked shit up for our children.
Stephen: OUR CHILDREN FUCKED IT UP FOR THEMSELVES.

Stephen: We’re gonna move into your old house, because beard guy and your ugly daughter are in mine now, and we’re gonna make it huge, and we’re gonna have like fifty kids and spend all our time fucking other people because we’re sluts.

Stephen: And we’ll get married and grow old together, which is gross but whatever, and we’ll give our kids stupid hippie names like “Xavier” and “Wren” and they’ll grow up to be witches or bigfoots or something.
Ember: My fiancé, the visionary.

Elle: WE DON’T KNOW EACH OTHER WELL ENOUGH FOR ASS FACES YET

Ally: And we never will.

Why.

Stephen: Just in case a Gap commercial breaks out.

Ember: Holy shit, how long have you been wearing that?
Stephen: Since it came back in style.
Ember: What, in the thirties?

Get that boy a Gap commercial, stat!

Ember: If the Gap commercials won’t go to the swingers, the swingers must go to the Gap commercials.

Ember: Hey, you know that burglar who broke in here?!
Stephen: Yeah? Yeah?!
Ember: Fuck him, eh?
Stephen: Hahaha, yeah!
Ally: Okay guys, seriously, you need to stop.

Ally: BECAUSE YOUR RAGE IS AS NOTHING COMPARED TO MINE

Stephen: So when we get rich I’m buying a studio and doing nudie portraits and you’re first.
Ember: Are you gonna be one of those artists who bangs all his models?
Stephen: The willing ones. I don’t wanna be one of those artists who are in jail.

Stephen: Where is your waist? Is it inverted or something?
Ember: A man who loves me for my bulimia!

Man, not maids are terrible maids.

At least she thinks so too.

Ally: BEAT IT LOSERS I’M LATE
Stephen: I beat it regardless of other people’s schedules, personally.
Ember: It needs regular beating.
Stephen: It’s a chore, I won’t lie, but what’re you gonna do.

Uh…

Wow, it’s just like she’s a real maid!

Phoenix Mendoza: Where’s the fire?! I must be reborn!

That’s fine for you, but who’s gonna rebirth our oven?

Phoenix clearly wasn’t one of those kids who played Duck Hunt.

This was your fault somehow.

Phoenix: Well, that’s over with. Time to go heal wounds with my tears and see if Dumbledore needs anything.

Elle: I keep feeling like I’ve forgotten something.

Like your clothes.

Elle: It’s something really basic too.

Like your clothes.

Elle: I just can’t put my finger on it!

You know your Sims are awesome when they walk away from their final exam like it’s exploding behind them.

I take it you passed.

Ember: They give you extra credit for giving the professor a post-coital heart attack.

Ember: BUT THEY CUT OFF YOUR STUDENT LOANS WHEN YOU HAVE A MAID FOR SOME REASON.

Stephen: Alright baby, I’m takin’ off. See you soon!
Ember: I’ll only be a few hours, don’t fuck any strangers!
Stephen: Can I fuck people I already know?
Ember: I said, I’ll only be a few hours.
Stephen: So, I can fuck everyone I know?

Elle: It’s okay, lots of people are dangerously useless.

Ember: I always thought Mean Mr. Mustard was a dude.

Telephones: obstructing important pics since 2008.

Ember: Hey, wanna watch this with me?

Ember: So, that’s a “no” then?

Ally: Wait! Wait!
Stephen: Why? Why?
Ally: So I can wave!
Stephen: Wave from there.

Ally: I would never have thought of that.

Ember: COWS MAKE ME SO MAD I COULD JUST

Ember: AGE

Elle: Some people just talk smack, but I’m more of a hands-on kind of gal!

Ember: What is it with cows and blocking the road?

Elle: It’s a time-honoured racial tradition, that’s what.

Ally: Let me inside.
Elle: No.
Ally: Then I’m removing your vagina.

Elle: “Pick your battles,” that’s what my heifer always said.

Ally: Lock the door when you leave.
Elle: What if I just stay?
Ally: Then the langoliers will eat you.
Elle: Where do you keep the spare key?

Ally: Shit, I’m still a lesbian.

A lesbian with poor taste, even.

Elle: You’re sending more people here soon, right?

Elle: …right?

#3 Main Street West, last seen… um… fifty years ago.

Hot damn.

Ember and Ally: Hot dammmnnn!

Some things never change.

EVEN WHEN THEY SHOULD.

Stephen: Is it romantic to hide the wedding ring inside a womrat?

It doesn’t do much for the womrat, I’m pretty sure.

Going for a more lawyerly look?

Ember: That depends. Do lawyers usually make you ruin your underwear?

Only the really scary ones.

Man…

I wish I wasn’t real.

Next time: one giant tribute to adultery.

So, the entire journal in microcosm, basically.

Go ahead.

Go look up “microcosm.”

I won’t judge.

Much.

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