The Clover County Chronicles, Chapter 106

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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On time again!

You owe me?

Last time in the Clover County Chronicles…

Alright, I put no effort into that.

So we’re square.

Abigail: Oh god, is it my turn again?!

I just can’t quit you, darlin’.

It’s against the rules.


Elle: Hey guys come drink this yellow milk I just produced! I’m a real cow.
Chas: Sounds legit!

Elle: Hey, what’s that over there?
Leonora: It’s more road. Why are we on the road?

Leonora: Why are we fucking around on the road?!

Chas: Because humour!

Ugh, college humour in particular.

I hate that website.


Chas: Her milk tastes fruity, too!

Abigail: Yeah, I’m about ready to graduate. I keep finding people in my bed. Unattractive people.
Romeo: Well maybe we don’t understand how our own beds work.

Abigail: Also they pee. In my bed.

Abigail: In my bed.

Abigail: This was a lot of work to get a piece of paper, is all I’m saying.
Andrew: Yeah, most people don’t think “genies” when they think “continuing education.”

Deirdre: How now?

Elle: And for that, you die.

Deirdre: I think you shattered my skull.

Romeo: In all fairness, she did say you were gonna die.

Romeo: She even gave you a reason. That’s what I call service.

Abigail: Can I call you back? This just went from Animal House to House of Wax all of a sudden.

Elle: More like House of Whacks, am I right?

Elle: What, too soon?

Abigail: More like too late.

Romeo: At least now I can play SSX without interrupting her study period.

Abigail: At least now I get to see if my ray gun still works!
Elle: At least now wait a minute what

Elle: Can’t we talk this over?!
Abigail: What, you and the flies? Probably not, they only speak Fliese.

Chas: Is that a joke? I can never tell with scientists.


Chas: Man, Abigail is-
Celeste: – not as hot as Leonora!

Leonora: Yeah, but Abigail still has some definite advantages, I’d say.

Leonora: Please don’t kill me.
Abigail: Don’t interrupt my phone conversations with random murder, and I’ll consider it.

Chas: She’s so wise! Like Solomon Grundy.

I think you just mean Solomon.

Chas: Did Superman save the world from him, too?!

Abigail: No wonder I’m top of the class. These people can’t even tell Green Lantern villains from Superman ones.
Andrew: They’re thinking of that stupid song.
Abigail: I bet they think rain on your wedding day is ironic, too.

Romeo: No, she had to do it. People go to jail, cows get put down.

Chas: But what if she wasn’t a real cow?
Romeo: Don’t be ridiculous. She told us she was. Only a real cow would tell us she was a real cow.
Chas: With words.
Romeo: Right.
Chas: Like, though talking.
Romeo: Right, like I said. Real cow.

Gabe: Can you offer me that sweet, sweet relief as well?

Celeste: Let me clean this one up first, these dipshits have already tracked him through half the goddamn dorm.
Chas: I’m a dipshit!

Gabe: Take me, o spiders of mercy!

Celeste: They’re flies, you fool.

Herb: Matlock’s not even in reruns anymore.

Celeste: Leonora? That white tee shirt of yours is looking awful tight. Why don’t you come into the cafeteria and soak it under the sprinkler for a bit? I’m sure it’ll loosen right up.
Leonora: Like how my vagina is scrunching itself into a ball right now, but in reverse?

Herb: I wonder what pointless death I’ll be getting.
Romeo: I was thinking of signing up for a falling satellite.
Herb: Man, no way. The prerequisites for that one are a major time sink.

Abigail: I don’t care if he’s grown two extra dicks, Andrew. Your father and I are not getting back together.
Andrew: I’m just saying he’s getting pretty dull, and you know how that usually turns out around here.
Abigail: And I’m just saying yeah, he’s pretty dull, so who cares?

Anybody else find Sim ash piles really upsetting?

Is that, like… broken bone or something?


This game is hardcore.

Romeo: Tickle tickle!
Herb: Hahaha gay.

Matthew: Hello there! You might know me as Matthew Castro, from the hit television series “I, Serial Killer!” I play one of the lead roles, William Sharpe!
Abigail: You do a really good impression of him! He is also not more important than my telephone conversation.

Matthew: Is she an actor too? She plays a really convincing rude bitch.

Matthew: But I’d still intercourse you! Hahaha. That was me being in-character.

Abigail: My milkshake!
Romeo: I call dibs on her milkshake.

Romeo: This is way better than the old Thumb War method.

Romeo: Yes! Awesome! I get the milkshake! I wonder if Celeste will make me some fries to go with it?


Abigail: Anyway apparently all the dudes here are in love with me, but they’re all boring and ugly.
Andrew: I thought that was what being a woman was like.
Abigail: It’s been a while, I guess I’d forgotten.

Elle: Welp, looks like we’ve been put out to pasture, old buddy.

Gabe: I am not a llama. You are not a cow. And I am not your buddy.

Deirdre: I don’t even know what just happened.

Abigail: You know, from certain angles…

I thought you were over William.

Abigail: Look, when someone reminds you of a ten-inch penis from certain angles, emotion has very little to do with what happens next.

Ugh, have you been making friends again?

I thought we were done with that.

Thomas: I’m here for the best and the brightest!

And that pee stain on the sidewalk tells you they’re here?

Abigail: Do I have to wear one of those blazers? They make you look ridiculous.
Thomas: They do not! Our secret traditions are the source of our aura of awesome mystery!

Thomas: Now pay attention while I demonstrate the chicken dance handshake.

Abigail: What’s keeping those hairs attached, anyway? Is it glue? Is it the sticky residue of failure?

What the fuck is this supposed to be?

Whatever, I’ll post it anyway.

Thomas: You’re underachieving, Abigail Young! He never would have put random filler into one of your chapters before!
Abigail: Take off the nostalgia goggles and read some of those chapters, buddy, before you say that.

Abigail: Also if you poke me again you’re fly food.

Abigail: How do I know you’ll take these off again?
Thomas: You don’t! I won’t. I lost the key.
Abigail: Celeste? Celeste? Call the real cops for me?

Celeste: All I hear is a faint buzzing.

Abigail: Good thing my wrists are genetically altered to secrete a fast-acting acid.
Thomas: I wondered why you weren’t wearing a watch.

Abigail: Don’t try to protect me or anything, guys.

Abigail: I really need to stop being so sarcastic. At least when there’s so many idiots around. Present company included.


Thomas: Can I see your wrists for a moment? My map is all stuck together.

Gabe: Hey there! I’m Gabe.

Gabe: And you are a babe.
Margaret Wolosenko: In the woods, no less.

Troy: Hi kids! Remember, don’t drink and drive, and anybody using the Resurrect-o-Nomitron will be shot on sight.

Pamela Chung: That’s a stupid rule.
Kana: No, I hear drinking and driving is really dangerous.

Cheryl Roennigke: I have a question about our dues. Are there any senior members around?
Emmy Fong: Check the graveyard out back.

Abigail: I’m amazed they didn’t close this place down, after it nearly got the entire world destroyed.

Hey, they didn’t close down Texas, did they?

Uh-oh. Hold on to your brains!

Amin: Most of these people are safe. I’m not a big fan of the taste of urine.

Cheryl: YES! It’s that naughty nurse we ordered!

Pamela: Just because she’s wearing white doesn’t make her a nurse.
Margaret: You mean like how just because you’re an albino doesn’t make your limbs worth more?
Pamela: Just like that, only stay the fuck away from me.

Margaret: Looks like we can hire a maid after all, folks! Somebody get the chainsaw.

Amin: I’ll pull her apart for free.

Abigail: Aww, you guys! I didn’t get you anything!

Abigail: Can I disintegrate it now, or do I need to unwrap it first?
Amin: If that’s a metaphor for naked sex, I’m game!

Changed your mind about the blazer?

Abigail: Not really, I just don’t want to get any viscera on my good clothes.

Emmy: Uh-oh, mailbox! Somebody’s had enough of your shit!
Mailbox: IT WASN’T ME

Amin: Just promise me it won’t hurt!

Abigail: I’ve never felt anything.

Gabe: It’s my cologne. Even fly-bitches love it.


Cheryl: It is! That’s so sexy.
Gabe: That’s what I’m always telling bitches!

Ahh. Just like old times!

Abigail: This place has potential! Of course, I’d have to raze it. And kick out all these undergrads. But the geographical location isn’t terrible.

Pamela: Hey, I wouldn’t touch that. We don’t know how it works, but it probably does something illegal.
Abigail: I have diplomatic immunity, Pamela.

Abigail: I’m an ambassador of science.

Amin: I would like to register a complaint with the ambassador.

Abigail: So this is where it all started, eh.

Yeah. Sorry.

Abigail: You really should be.

Abigail: I remember when Daisy resurrected Poppy.

What? You weren’t here when that happened!

Abigail: Yeah, there’s some free-floating memories hanging about in here. Pretty sure your game files are fucked.

Abigail: I just got a lovely memory of burning flesh.

That must be what life was like for Richard Pryor.

Abigail: Something isn’t right about all this, but I can’t quite put my finger on it.

That’s because I won’t let you. If the X-Files has taught me anything, it’s that you need to space out your good stuff with tons of meaningless filler!

Meaningless filler with fun and quirky dialogue, though.

I’m still talking about the X-Files.

Abigail: I wonder if “redial” works on these.

Abigail: You know, on reflection, the name “Daisy White” really seems to be trying too hard at something.

You think?

Abigail: I don’t want to pursue this too far, though. A lot of the people who died around here were terrible people and I don’t want to piss them off.

I keep forgetting how you’re a genius.

Abigail: Home, James.
Driver: My name is… something other than James.

Abigail: You don’t even remember his name?

I’m not looking it up! I want to get to sleep sometime tonight.

Celeste: I want to get to sleep with Abigail sometime tonight.
Abigail: Ugh.

Abigail: Hey, Chas. Let’s have sex so the cafeteria lady will stop stalking me.
Celeste: I guess I could take up knitting…

Chas: Yeah, okay! I was just gonna sit here and rub my rash, but that sounds way better!
Abigail: Rash?
Chas: Apparently, when you piss yourself, you’re supposed to change your pants.

Matthew: Hey! Don’t be flirting with my ex-fiance, mullet dude!
Abigail: Why do you insist on pretending to be William?


Chas: I can’t wait to tell everyone my girlfriend owns a bear chair!
Abigail: I’ll deliver it to her right away. Where does she live?

Abigail: I’m not your girlfriend. We’re just pretending so that old woman doesn’t rape me.
Chas: That hardly seems like a good reason.

Chas: Can’t you feel the chemistry we have?
Abigail: Dude, I have chemistry with everyone. And you know what? I’m the common denominator.

Abigail: At least the pee seems to have dried.
Chas: Let’s make this a quick dance, I can feel some more coming on.

Chas: Wow! I kissed a girl!
Abigail: Nope. This is just how the dance ends. Check your memories.
Chas: FUCK.

Matthew: Anybody wanna go bang chicks and shoot guns? Because I sure do!

Matthew: I mean, I really do.
Abigail: There comes a time when we all have to compromise on our dreams, Matthew. Especially when our dreams are to be other people.

Matthew: I wish I could be awesome.
Abigail: I wish you could too.

Abigail: God, bearchair, have you been watching us this entire time?!
Bearchair: I’m always watching you.

Bearchair: Mmmmfffrgllrbrlgrbl

Matthew: Nah, it’s mine. If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em.

Abigail: And if you can’t mop it up?
Matthew:sop it up?
Chas: Dude, no. Rashes.

Matthew: I think when you squeegee someone’s pee up, you become best friends by default.
Abigail: Good! I might need someone to help me move a body later. Oh, shit, wait… never mind, it’s yours. For making me squeegee up your pee.
Matthew: It’s a complicated world.

Matthew: Complicated and soggy.

Matthew: Oh well.

Abigail: Guess it’s time to get the sidewalk plow.

Abigail: I’ll get started on the shallow grave.

Matthew: As motivational speeches go, that one was pretty effective.

Matthew: As motivational asses go…
Abigail: Yes, I’m well aware.

Matthew: Hey, Romeo!
Romeo: Don’t make fun of me.
Matthew: But that’s your actual name.
Romeo: Don’t make fun of me!

Herb: Now can I make fun of you?
Romeo: That depends on whose pee this is.

Abigail: Sure, sure. Everyone attack the player character. Fucking video games.

Herb: More like video games fucking!
Romeo: You wish.
Romeo: You wish.

Herb: It’s a commentary on the modern refusal to accept stewardship of the environment?
Romeo: It’s a performance of postmodern iconoclasm?
Abigail: He hates plastic lawn ornaments?

Chas: Also Herb stinks.
Herb: It’s-
Chas: No, you just stink. Go take a shower, dude.

Herb: I’d rather stay here and enjoy this sexy crouch party we’re having.
Abigail: This hole is big enough for your head now, and my shovel is very sharp.

Abigail: Oh, so now suddenly nobody’s hanging around.

Prof. Jasmyn Corsillo: That’s not true! Authority figures are coming. To chastise you.
Abigail: That’s what they’re for.

Abigail: Make sure to tell them you did it when they get here. I know I will.

Abigail: Yeah, and make it quick would you? I need to escape the scene of the crime before the utilities people get here.

Abigail: So this is what it feels like to age! I don’t like it.

Prof. Jasmyn: Let me in, the cops are coming.
Kana: I don’t like cops. So, no.

Abigail: What the fuck?! These are clothes! I was given to understand people usually aged into pink tutus and grass skirts!

Yeah, some wires are definitely getting crossed around here lately.

Abigail: And I’m gonna cross the rest! Just to see what happens.

It’s what we’ve always feared.

Science with tits.

No man is safe.

Kana: You really do smell, Herb.
Chas: Thank you!

Kana: You smell like an old person’s bathroom. The kind they put carpet in.

Prof. Jasmyn: You owe me a fifty-simoleon fine.
Abigail: Too bad my Action Queue’s full, eh?

Prof. Jasmyn: I guess a piece o’ paper don’t mean nothin’ to a puddle o’ piss.

Science! Always leaving things better than they were when it found them.

Next time: if I tell you, you won’t read it.

You probably won’t read it anyway.


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