The Clover County Chronicles, Chapter 105

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.

Updates on Friday every week, and sometimes on Tuesdays!

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I’m tired.

Last time in the Clover County Chronicles…

I always write these intros last. And I’m tired. So just… keep reading. The person who wrote the rest of this was less tired.

Hey baby, you obviously know how to have a good time! Without condoms. Any good place for that around here?

Poppy: No.

Poppy: But I make do anyway.

Hey lesbian, come by for some hot lesbian sex? It’s five hundred dollars!

Kenya: I’m not paying five hundred dollars for sex!

No, no. That’s what you get paid.

Jessie: And the bluer my balls get, the higher my bid goes.

I think the Chemistry system is bugging out, Kendra.

Kendra: I don’t use Chemistry anymore. You’re seeing my prostitute radar. Client ho!

I feel like someone should have asked me before they made this into a gay bar.

I’m not complaining, I just feel left out.

Kendra: Speaking of left out…
Geoffrey: But I have money!
Kendra: Nobody has that much money.

Kendra: Come back when you’ve got some hilarious face paint. At least it gives me something to laugh at while you grope and fondle me like a high-schooler.
Jessie: I knew there was a reason I got this stuff! Seventy years ago.

Melissa: You do know this is a gay bar now, right?
Ember: Nope. Once I’m here, the sausages will inevitably fest.

Kendra: One of those other dudes who look like you beat up a cop for me. Can you top that?

Jessie: No.

Kendra: Good, because cops are usually really good customers.

Jessie: The underachiever wins gold again!

Jessie: Ew, no, it’s all over your mouth!

Kendra: And now it’s all in yours.
Jessie: Open up so I can barf it back into you.


Heath: Big pimpin’!

Jessie: Are those pants made by Goodyear? Because your ass is hu-
Kendra: That’s not going to be as sexy as it sounded in your head, Jessie. Trust me.

Jessie: And then she pushed me back down the stairs and took my wallet.
Gerard: What I’m hearing is that I can get free wallets if I push you down the stairs.
Jessie: Yeah, but I’m tapped today.

Jessie: Speaking of tapped…

Yeah, like, fifty years ago.

Jessie: It still counts! I’ve still got the rug burns.

Irfan: Can you give me rug burns?
Ember: I’m too busy reliving my young adulthood. Fada soola gor!
Irfan: But I’m the mayor.
Ember: Well let me know when there’s a tie on town council, so I’ll know you’ve become relevant.

Stephen: It’s so hot what a bitch my wife is.

Stephen: And it’s so hot that she lets me sleep with pregnant prostitutes!
Kendra: The question is whether the pregnant prostitutes will let you.

Kendra: Incidentally, they might.

Kendra: I’ve always wanted to meet Stephen!
Stephen: I’ve always wanted you to meet me too!

Ember: Remember honey, anal only! Because I won’t do that shit for anybody.

Stephen: My wife is a harsh mistress.
Kendra: What does that make your actual mistresses?
Stephen: A source of relief, honestly.

Heath: I’ve thought of a name for this mini-brothel. I call it “The Hole Hole.”

I’ve thought of a name for you, too.

It’s similar.

Stephen: Yep, I’m definitely going to look awesome here.

Kendra: Well I think you always look awesome, Stephen!
Stephen: Hee hee! You non-artists don’t know shit!

Kendra: But at least we have paying jobs.

Kendra: Stop that.

Stephen: Only if you give me something better to do with my hands.

Stephen: No. My hands. Those are your hands. No wonder you’re a whore.

Heath: You think so? Because if you let me screw you, it’ll be kinda like screwing her! By osmosis!
Ember: More like oldmosis.

Kendra: I’ll bill you.
Stephen: We haven’t even had sex yet!
Kendra: Well, you talked about yourself so much, it felt like we did to me.

Stephen: Oh, the life of a sex-starving artist.

Kendra: I need to up my rates for those artsy types.

What about those of us in the humanities and social sciences?

Kendra: I need to get a bouncer for you.

Stephen: She wouldn’t have sex with me.
Ember: It’s so hot that I own you now.

This scenery sure does bring back memories.

Of all the crashes it caused.

So, lucrative day at the office?

Kendra: Made enough to afford a fence for my hobo garden.

Kendra: Ooh, looks like mama’s gonna eat tonight too!

Jessie: I put salt on mine.
Stephen: She means she’s gonna sell them. For real food?
Jessie: One step too many, you ask me.

Stephen: Remind me never to go to your place for dinner.
Jessie: Will do! Frequently.

Kendra: Perfect. Thanks, Stephen.

Kendra: I bet this is your fault somehow, too.

Jessie: I stuffed these ones full of pennies.
Kendra: Why can’t you guys just give me money for sex?
Jessie: Because the only difference between romance and prostitution is the method of payment.

Victor: And because I’d arrest you for commingling of funds.
Kendra: I wonder how many things are the way they are because you’re such an asshole, Victor.
Victor: My wife and daughter, for starters!

Victor: Speaking of which, my wife changed the locks. You gonna finish that Instant Meal?

Kendra: No, but it’ll cost you.

Victor: You want me to buy a vacuum cleaner?

Kendra: No, Mr. Cwik. I want your souuuuuuul!
Victor: I haven’t got a soul! We hand them in during basic training, they keep us from using tasers on the elderly!

Kendra: Okay, well, I’ll just take your skills then.
Victor: What does a prostitute want with the ability to cross your arms and wear reflective sunglasses?!


Victor: You took my Mechanical Skill! Now how’m I gonna make my cushy chair go up and down?
Kendra: We really need to pay the police chiefs less.

Kendra: Nobody does!
David: It’s true! I’ve asked around.

David: Some of them do hate you so much it’s kinda creepy, though. Can you maybe work with that?

Kendra: How did THIS happen?!
Victor: Pity. It’s the great lip unzipper.


Kendra: Livin’ it up!

First person who gets both parts of this reference gets to name a baby.

Clay: What a shitty prize. Half the kids in this neighbourhood die before adulthood.

Yeah, that’s my half of the prize.

Kendra: Hi! Have we met?
Clay: I sure hope not, ‘cuz I always default on child support.

Kendra: Pleased to meet you.
Clay: Really? That’s never happened before! It’s hot.

Kendra: You look like a man who knows how to have a good time.

Clay: Really? Most people just say I look like a douchebag.

Victor: The early douchebag gets the newspaper!


Clay: And start sucking… out… (?) my penis?
Kendra: That is the most contrived pun I’ve ever heard.

As opposed to those natural puns.

Kendra: Yeah, like that big penis on Mars!

It’s a face.

Kendra: Really? Then they ought to put a penis in it.
Clay: That’s what faces are for, alright!

Clay: Except mine. Please don’t put any penises in my face.
Kendra: Dammit, where else am I gonna store ’em?

Clay: You don’t really have a bunch of penises laying around here, do you?
Kendra: No, but I sure do see a lot of dicks most days.

Clay: I like a woman who knows her place. Which is to make snide and cynical comments.

You watch too much TV.

Clay: I was thinking about Abigail, actually.

That’s legit.

Clay: So wow, being boring sure is a full-time job around here, isn’t it?
Kendra: Well, what do you do for a living, then?

Clay: I’m a bagman.

Kendra: Stay away from my money trees.

Kendra: Time to get started on that panic room!

Kendra: Or a swimming pool! I’m flexible.

Kendra: No, wait! Irrigation system. Man, the real mother of invention is homelessness.

Clay: I bet she drinks the water and then smokes the leaves, to forget that she drank the water.

What’d you find?

Kendra: Walls.

Kendra: Help! My property line is glowing!

Kendra: I think it’s irradiating my vagina!

Those auspicious words are the first thing Richard Flint ever heard.

Since he’s Michael and Kendra’s son, though, they probably won’t be the worst.

Kendra: That’s right, kid. Soak up that moisture. I’ll wring it out later, and you can drink it while I swig my date flowers.

Richard: .oO(Okay, but only if you let me huff the leaves with you afterward. To forget.)


Clay: OH NO! BEAR CHAIR! IT WASN’T ME I SWEAR, BEAR CHAIR! Also I’m your biggest fan.

That might be the stupidest thing I’ve ever written.

Bear Chair: Not even close.

Kendra: Now Michael has to pay!

Child support isn’t a real thing in this game.

Kendra: No, I mean he has to pay. For saddling me with this burden.
Richard: .oO(I love you too, mom.)

Richard: .oO(But this burlap is giving me second thoughts.)

Jessie: Trade you that baby for what’s in the bag!

Jessie: Oh god, it’s a bomb! Run!

What, are you Libyan or something?

Now I’m just making jokes for ink_sec_sims, apparently.

Not very good ones either.

Kendra: It’s no worse than those broad-based not-very-good jokes you were making before.

Kendra: Security! Excellent.


Victor: I’ve always wanted a whatever that is!

Victor: Hey bitch I stole your tiny grandpa.

Victor: Now put your sprog in the can. I’ll pay off the garbageman, he’ll take him.

Kendra: I don’t have to take this! I’m a homeowner, dammit!

Yeah! It’s no fair how everyone keeps trying to exploit you.


Elle: I didn’t know you could sink drywall into soil!

We learned it from the Russians.

In return, we’re going to teach them about flushing toilets.

Victor: Just deliver her paper to my house from now on.
Elle: That’s not how it works.
Victor: I’m the Chief of Police.
Elle: That’s not how it works.



He does. You die first, though.

Kendra: Well as long as there’s a plan.

Let’s just pretend, shall we?

Next time: attack of the killer mascot! And the killer mascot killer, too.

It’s not a spoiler if it’s nonsense.

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