The Pine Valley Chronicles, Chapter Seventy-Two

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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Blah blah blah.

Meh. Whatever.

Hey tits! What’s shakin’? Is it tits?

Peter: Nope! It’s asses!

Chelsea: That’s not shakin’! That’s jigglin’!
Peter: I’m gigglin’ at your jigglin’!

Peter: Are you ashamed of yourself yet? I’m ashamed of myself.
Chelsea: Yes. I am.

Me too.

Sandy Cho: Hello there. I’m a private investigator, and I’ve been hired to look into the suspicious reapparance and pardoning of notorious murderess Cecilia Phelps. Do you know where I might find her?

“Cecilia”: I think I might have that information on file. Ask my secretary.

Sandy: That is not a secretary.

Sandy: That is a skunk.

Man, it’s been a while since we went downtown.

Because at this point it was crashing every time I tried.

Ah, the good old days.

Andrew: Hey Bradley. Long time, no baffle.
Bradley: Because a dude with a beard like that is totally qualified to comment on my moustache.
Andrew: Because the weirdest thing about your appearance is totally that moustache.

Bradley: He doesn’t like my glasses?

Yeah, a can of pop totally goes with that dress.

Yeah, a cell phone totally goes with that baby bump.

“Cecilia”: You’re not even trying anymore.

Cruise control for cool, baby!

Andrew: You’re doing it wrong, not that it’s your fault or anything.
Tish: Go away, I’m having fun.
Andrew: I mean, naturally you don’t understand the theory of the thing. You’re not a scientist the way I am.
Tish: Just let me play pinball in peace.
Andrew: I wouldn’t expect an uneducated peasant like you to grasp the physical intricacies of the mechanism, is all I’m saying.

Bradley: I designed all of these games.

No, you didn’t.

Bradley: If anyone asks, I did. Nobody knows any real game designers. It’s the perfect crime!

Yeah, you could almost pass for Will Wright. But your facial hair isn’t quite douchebaggy enough.

The Sheridan Centre! Let’s not stay here, it’s a silly place.

Pictured: a less silly place?

Scot Macarevich the Infallibly Good Warlock: Hey, nice! You hired a secretary!

And then he flew off to his magical palace in the sky.

“Cecilia”: That’s right, plow right in. Once the tryptophan kicks in I’ll drown you in the bathtub.
Chelsea: You’re just jealous because I’m slim and sexy and you’re carrying a fifty-year-old baby.
“Cecilia”: That’s really not possible. There aren’t enough cases of people carrying fifty-year-old babies for me to have a sense of whether it’s a good thing or not.
Chelsea: You’re going to be the mother of the brother of the girl you’re impersonating. If that’s a good thing, then good is just too damn complicated.

“Cecilia”: Can’t you fuck her in your own room? It’s just that necrophilia isn’t really my style.

Peter: Necrophilia is ALL OF MY STYLE.


What’re you doing?

Daryl: Nghbl!

Well come on then, mop and sweep and get on with it!

Daryl: Ndugu!

Dude, what the hell is your problem?


Phillip Beckett, Dead Zombie Zombie Hunter: .oO(He lurks in the thought balloon, biding his time…)

“Cecilia”: .oO(Rest in peace, Larry Hagman…)
Chelsea: Peter! What are you doing naked in the basement with Vicki?
Peter: Desecrating urns.
Chelsea: Oh, okay.

Chelsea: So, you wanna run the ashes on our bodies and fuck?
Peter: Chelsea, Chelsea, Chelsea. You are seriously in need of help. With math. I’ve only got three hours before work, that’s not enough time to do it justice!


“Cecilia”: I wonder if Bradley Price is still alive.
Peter: He is. I killed him, but then he came back and killed me.
“Cecilia”: You’re not too great at this whole “supervillain” shtick, huh?
Peter: What, are you kidding? You’re not a real villain if you’ve never been foiled!

Peter: Besides, the true measure of a monster is how many people he has in his trash compactor. And I’ve got a separate trash compactor just for people, baby.

“Cecilia”: So yeah, accept the proposed bribe and leave the room for a minute. I’ll clean up in here when I’m done.
Daryl: I don’t get it. Do you think I’m a pimp? Do you think I’m the pimp of a plant brothel?
“Cecilia”: Just go buy yourself an ice cream cone, sport, I won’t be long.

Daryl: I like the fives best. You can make the guy look like Scotty if you draw a picture of Scotty on him.

Daryl: You done? Whatever it is that you were doing?
“Cecilia”: No, I’m not done yet. And I’m not doing anything, remember? Five bucks says I’m not doing anything.
Daryl: Then it’s a liar, because you must have done something to give money the ability to speak.

Any reason you had to get naked to take Randy’s ashes out?

“Cecilia”: I dunno, this is how Peter always does it. I don’t wanna mess it up.

“Cecilia”: POW! I transform your dead brother into A PILE OF GARBAGE! Take that, Peter!

Even if he takes it, I doubt he’ll know what to do with it.

Chelsea: What’re you doing in there?
“Cecilia:” I’m performing a secret mission for William Sharpe.
Chelsea: How do you know William Sharpe?!
“Cecilia:” He heard I was living in your basement, so he sent me a note with his phone number on it. I’ve been talking to him on my new cell phone.
Chelsea: Any particular reason you don’t think I’ll tell Peter about all this?
“Cecilia:” William said to tell you that if you keep quiet he’ll do that thing with his tongue-

Help me out here, it’s been a while.

Chelsea: Sultry.

Right. Sultry. Right.

Why was that funny, again?

Daryl: That’s a lovely vagina awning you’ve grown, Cecilia!

Chelsea: Aaugh! Dammit, Vi-… Cecilia! Don’t touch my turkey! I don’t want you getting your vagina awning all over it!

“Cecilia:” With friends like these, who needs consciousness.

Not I.

Chelsea: I wonder what William wants her to do in our basement.

Presumably he wants your man-eating plant.

Chelsea: What? Why?!

Presumably for its man-eating qualities? But that’s just a guess.

“Cecilia:” The package is secure.
“Cecilia:” The butler knows too much. You should kill him just to be safe.

Daryl: You have a funny-shaped bum.
William: He doesn’t sound like he knows too much.
“Cecilia”: Oh, trust me. He’s like a genius in an idiot in a moron in a genius. It’s some serious Inception shit over here, you’d be surprised.
William: I’m not gonna shoot somebody just because they’re annoying you.
“Cecilia”: Man, secret agent friends aren’t half as cool as I thought they’d be.


“Cecilia”: So yeah, I think ENTROPY is plotting to take over the world or something.
William: Big deal, that’s the same thing they do every night.
“Cecilia”: Yeah, but they’re not lab mice, William.
William: No, you’re right. One of those lab mice was smart.

Peter: I’ve got the list inside. Come on in! We can unwind, shoot the shit.
Adriana Bruty: How did you get a list of rogue agents, anyway?
Peter: I’ve been working undercover. They think I’m a rogue agent, too!
Adriana: AHAHAHAHAHA they’re so dumb.

Adriana: OH NO! A flesh golem! The rumours are true!
Chelsea: No wonder the terrorists are always embarassing us.

Peter: Adriana! Down here! I’ve got your red-hot death! I mean list!
“Cecilia”: Can we fit you with a silencer, maybe?

Peter: Nah, I’m kind of a fan of screaming.

Adriana: Wait! WAIT! I thought we were gonna shoot the shit!

Peter: Bet you didn’t know you were the shit, huh?

Adriana: You’ll… never… defeat… us… we… have… more… ellipses… than… you…

Peter: Send my regards to your boss!
Adriana: My boss is still alive!
Peter: Have patience. Wait a few days. Think of it as a stakeout, only you’re both gonna be dead.

Peter: MAN! It’s been too long. I really missed the pitter-patter of little blood droplets.

Peter: Vicki! Wake up! Your old housemate is here!

Vicki: Grimmy. It’s been a while, eh?
Vicki: Hey, don’t blame me. I was mind-controlled by a magic axe.

And yet my cellphone barely works outdoors.

Chelsea: Oh, good. I was starting to think he’d gone soft. And we can’t afford to buy pills for that.

Peter: Cool dudes walk away from people they’re killing. To take a shit.

If you were a real cool dude, she would have exploded when you walked away.

Peter: I think that only applies to cars. And buildings.

My planet, my rules.

Peter: Gasp! You’re naked! And not covered with gold, or oil, or whatever. So I’m kind of a failure of a secret agent, I guess.
Chelsea: You’d rather have a dead girlfriend?
Peter: There’s something to be said for those traditional sorts of affirmation, is all I’m saying.

Peter: Then again, there’s also something to be said for that ass.

Peter: So, Melanie says we should come over again. She and I are going to have a date… a date… a data exchange. We’re going to exchange data. About… stuff. About zombie stuff. About… zombie stuff. Yeah.
Chelsea: Sounds legit.

Is she dreaming about herself? About Cecilia? About herself as Cecilia? Or just about that ridiculous hair? We may never know.

Hey! Did you guys just screw when I wasn’t looking?

Peter: It’s not my fault you take so much gratuitous filler, and then feel the need to comment on it.

No, your faults all involve dead bodies.

Peter: Yeah, I’m pretty boss.

Got a hot date?

“Cecilia”: Hot dates are a thing of the past. I’ve got a nightlife, is what I’ve got.

“Cecilia”: Alright, come over, come over! I’ve been dying to meet you! Well, I’ve been wanting to meet you. Other people have been dying. It’s been terrible. Please hurry.

William: I hope she doesn’t want payment, I’m not sure I can afford a carnivorous plant on a government salary.

It’s okay, your military connections can sort things out.

William: What military connections?

Captain Sparkles! He’s got all the compensation most chicks need.

William: Hey hey, fake my sister! God says you’ll give me that plant if I have sex with you.
“Cecilia”: How does it feel to be the first person to ever utter those sentences?
William: Weird.

William: Do siblings cheek-kiss? I don’t really know. I don’t have any siblings anymore. They all died horribly. Except for the one you aren’t.

“Cecilia”: Technically, I’m not any of them.
William: Yeah, but you’re really not Cecilia. Because you don’t smell of brimstone.

“Cecilia”: Welp, here it is! One Laganophyllis Simnovorii, as ordered!
William: Somehow I thought it would be… bigger.
“Cecilia”: Heh. That’s what she said!

William: But seriously, how come you’re impersonating my sister?
“Cecilia”: You don’t know? Peter used his contacts in ENTROPY to get her pardoned so I can take her place, because nobody’s gonna pardon… who I actually am. Which I am not going to tell you about. Because who the fuck are you, really?
William: I can probably figure it out pretty quickly. I’m sort of an awesome secret agent, you know.

“Cecilia”: But would that be as hot as dating a mysterious femme fatale?

“Cecilia”: You’ve grown into quite the holy shit hot dude, William.
William: So you’re someone who’s been dead for a long time, then.
“Cecilia”: Like that helps. This place has twenty times as many dead people as it does living people.
William: That’s pretty much a normal state of affairs, really.
“Cecilia”: Yeah, but the thing is, normally, all of those people wouldn’t have died within a few days of each other.

“Cecilia”: Oh! Oh. I wasn’t expecting that.
William: Me either. But you mentioned all those zombies I shot, and I just couldn’t help myself.

“Cecilia”: Your shoulders are all knotted up. The weight of the world must be a bitch to carry.
William: Actually, it’s from craning my head to stare at my girlfriend’s ass. But your explanation is more socially acceptable, I’ll try to remember it.

William: What makes you think I won’t be weirded out by dating a chick made up to look like my sister?
“Cecilia”: You’re not weirded out by anything with a vagina. I could be dressed like your dad and you’d still be totally hot for me.
William: I’m gonna avoid you on Halloween, just in case.

“Cecilia”: You’re an alright guy, William. Your dad would be proud.
William: No he wouldn’t. He’d be cheating on my mom, playing football, and invading third-world countries.
“Cecilia”: Well… yes. But he’d be proud of it, is the thing.

“Cecilia”: So, what do you think? Am I hotter than your sister?
William: It’s taking all of my brainpower to avoid thinking about that.

“Cecilia”: C’mere, give your ol’ sis a smackeroo.
William: You’re enjoying this way too much.
“Cecilia”: Strong words from the man with the suddenly tight pants.

This is almost as weird as when you fucked your actual sister.

William: What was that? My mental failsafes kicked in, all I heard was static.

William: To answer your question… if my sister had actually looked like you, you’d be carrying my flipper baby right now.
“Cecilia”: Get out of my house, you pervert.

William: She loves me.

Who doesn’t? Next time: nothing happens. But it happens in the nude!

So there’s that.

I guess.

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