The Clover County Chronicles, Chapter 101

Welcome to the Clover County 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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Same shit, different name.

Hey, calm down! We’re all excited, buddy.

Last time in the Pine Valley Chronicles…


So, here we are! The first of the next hundred!

I hope you weren’t expecting something special.

Elle: I wasn’t, and boy did I get it.

Well, Deb… at least someone’s thinking about you.

Elle: Oh, you’re up. Gonna try to burn the rest of your house down now?

Elle: Hmm.

Elle: Nope, not my job.

Elle: Then again, maybe Deborah will fit in here. Free house!

That’s the only way I can rationalize what just happened.

Deborah: You couldn’t wait for me to finish before you cleaned that?
Elle: Oh, so now this is about your schedule?

Elle: I shall call him Geoffrey.

Deborah: This is the most expensive sandwich I’ve ever eaten.

And getting more expensive all the time.

Elle: Yay! More things that aren’t my problem!

That was a good impression of a North American watching the news.

Shit! Call the Men in Black!

So, were you gonna… do, anything?

Elle: Wouldn’t be my first choice!

JJ Wheeler: I don’t get it. There aren’t any roaches in there.

No, they’re outside.

JJ: …outside.

Don’t look at me.

JJ: Want me to mow your lawn and trim your shrubbery, while I’m at it?

God, do any of my NPCs like their jobs?

JJ: In our defense, consider what those jobs are.

It could be worse.

You could be me.

Playing this household.

Hey, or, you know, even worse: somebody reading about it.

Fuck, that would be awful.

Sure, why not. I’ll spot you both bus fare and you can elope together.

As long as you never come back.

Deborah: Just point me to the station.

Deborah: I think the exterminator missed a couple.

Deborah: Man, now I’ll never get to sleep.

Ever again!

Let me know when it’s safe to come back in.


Try reading the chapters you’re in!

Good thing the window was closed.

Wait… that kid’s dad is Lucas.

Curses! If only the winow was open!

Say hello to Rebecca Cavendish. The only good thing to come out of either of her parents.

Deborah: So she turns out okay?!


Well yeah, it turns out okay for her, let’s say.

Deborah: Good enough for me!

Hahaha, hahaha yeah.

Deborah: Word of God says you’ll be fine, so get used to sudden drops, kid.

Rebecca: .oO(As soon as I have motor control, you’re going to pay for that.)

You know, I think this side of the street is turning into the bad part of town.

It’s just this weird feeling I have.

Alvin: Off to work!
Kitty: Have fun!
Alvin: Don’t catch any flies!

Lucas: Mmmmmm. Lucas Perez should sleep with his hand in his boxers every night.


Kitty: I don’t wear boxers.

Among other things.

All other things, for instance.

Lucas: Did you make these, chiquita?
Kitty: Yep.
Lucas: Tart tarts. Is appropriate.

Kitty: That’s enough yuck for one day.

Hear, hear.


I hate the overcommercialization of museums these days.

But those catered events they’ve started doing are nice.

And celebrity appearances are always good.

Ocean: I’m an Aquaman impersonator!

Well, mostly anyways.

Ocean: I also do Prince.

Stephen: You know what I do?

You keep walking, that’s what you do.

Stephen: I dunno, doesn’t sound much like me.

Aurora: Wanna play?
Gretchen: Naw, the ennui isn’t so bad when you don’t pretend to be real.

Aurora: You could just have said you don’t like pinball.

Gretchen: You wanna make out, Mr. Murphy?
Stephen: Will you listen to my story about a break-in ten years ago?
Gretchen: No.
Stephen: What if I go down on you?
Gretchen: Still no.

Stephen: I dunno, she’s gay or something.

Gina: Shit, another playable!
Aurora: Forget about it.
Gina: But this is our big chance!
Aurora: Trust me. With faces like ours, you stick out, you get hammered back down.

Stephen: I wonder where she’s from.
Opal: Haven’t you had sex with her?
Stephen: Well yeah, but that’s not the same as meeting her.

Kitty: This is much better than Lucas’ bathroom. At least here I know that the worst things that used it were zombies.

For now, anyway.

I don’t much care for living history museums, but unliving history museums seem pretty cool.

Not sure about their clientele, though.

Kitty: Kitty bored now.

Play with some string?

Kitty: Don’t tease!

Poor design, eh. Now the roof’s gonna rot.

…but isn’t that good, in a zombie museum?

I’m so torn now.

Stephen: I’m not looking forward to this.


Stephen: I need a distraction.

Gretchen: Hi Stephen!

Stephen: Hey! What’s that behind you? Is it someone interesting?

Lucas: It was, but now it is not.

Glad to see you made enough cash to put your second floor back on.

Sort of.

I hope you don’t sleepwalk.

Or do I?

Hey! Did you get a promot… bah, I don’t care.

I’ve got even more boring shit than that to deal with right now.

Alvin: Gonna dig a hole to SimChina!

That’s impossible.

Alvin: Look dude, I’m a scientist. I’m not stupid. I’m gonna go around the core.

Autumn: That man is going to kill us all.

Slowly, though.

Worst Escher painting ever.

Alvin: I got a bone!

Well you can jerk off later, we’ve got work to do here.



Me too, Alvin. Me too.

Kelly: When they arrest you, call my office. I offer very reasonable representation rates.

Lucas: Excellent, you are digging your own grave! Lucas Perez is willing to kill you, but was dreading the manual labour.

Lucas: What the fuck is this.

Prof. Johnson: Gotta steal that shallow grave before all the good ones are gone!

Prof. Johnson: Shit, wait, are those shoes patent leather?

Prof. Johnson: I ain’t paying for no yuppie-dug hole.

Alvin: Our neighbours are weird!
Kitty: They must like you!

Alvin: We’ll see about that.

Alvin: I hope you all are watching, because I bet I look pretty buff right now.

Kitty: You think if I stuff his pillowcase with these, he’ll get money cancer?

You can’t be done already.

Alvin: Found a toy spaceship. Quitting while I’m ahead.

Lucas: Lucas Perez is stealing money from your soul.

Lucas: Lucas Perez is the soul breadwinner.

Once again I just don’t feel competent to caption this.

Alvin: Oh no! I’ve struck white oil! Now I have to move to the big city and grow a moustache, and live next to a fascist banker and his shrewish wife!

Lucas: That show is still the stupid. Lucas Perez has seen reruns.

Stinky Skunk: You looking for anything in particular?
Alvin: The mystical underground lair of the talking skunk-people, actually. But now I feel stupid.

Lucas: Who is saying money cannot buy happiness? They have never been stealing the money of others, Lucas Perez thinks.

Kitty: Oh! Oh god! Help!
Lucas: You are too late, chiquita! Lucas Perez has stashed his ill-gotten gains in the hammerspace of his trousers.

Lucas: And it does you no good to moan.

Still at it?


Ivy Woodrow: .oO(So, how does that whole Social Worker thing work?)

Kitty: I hope you’ll like your new home, Ivy. Because we can’t afford a new one.

Or food.

Kitty: Or food, yeah.

Alvin: I’m working on it!

And how’s that going?

Alvin: I’ve got fourteen rocks, two tattered maps, a very lifelike sculpture of a chicken who is also a farmer, and some shitty SimChinese vase, but I think it’s lost, because the hole’s not deep enough yet.

That vase is worth a fortune.

Alvin: Pff, please. It’s so old! I bet the new model year is already out.

Alvin: We’re strict Sciencebyterians here, buddy, so I’ll thank you to take your good lords elsewhere.

Kitty: Now, I know it might look like a living hell, but try to keep this in mind: I can always make it worse for you.

Kitty: These money trees feel like cheating.


Did you cut off somebody’s head when I wasn’t looking?

Prof. Johnson: I did.

Kitty, get away from those trees. I think they’re coated in radium or something.

Alvin: If they are, come out here for a few minutes and it’ll all wash off.

Alvin: I’m a dad!

Yeah, we’re all pretty worried about that, to be honest.

Kitty: If I get this thing really clean, maybe the baby can live in here and I can sell that stupid crib back.

The joys of homeownership.

Next time: Murphies and shit. At least there’s no Deborah.

Or Lucas.


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