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 Tuesday and Thursday every week!
#2 of 7! So far so good.
In lieu of a newspaper story contorted around itself to explain the bullshit backstory of the people in this chapter, let’s go back to William’s desktop for a retrospective exposition-fest.
I see you got a new wallpaper that isn’t your half-sister naked on a couch.
So that’s good.
…look, some of you watch Game of Thrones, this isn’t as hard as you’re pretending it is.
If you still don’t remember who Vicki/Fake!Cecilia is, here you go.
If you don’t know who Real!Cecilia/Daisy is, I really can’t help you. Read the whole thing over again.
Mayhew: I found this under the banquet table.
That’s not good.
Mayhew: I think it’s William’s.
William: Alright, mystery woman. Time for some answers. Where did you go to university?
Vicki: I didn’t.
William: A likely story. Who did you first bump uglies with?
Vicki: The hottest guy in the neighbourhood.
William: I’m sure I’d remember that.
Vicki: I’m surprised that you don’t.
William: Are you, or are you not, a Martian?
Vicki: My secret identity is feeling pretty safe right about now.
Vicki: But that doesn’t mean I’m averse to riding your rocketship.
Melanie: In another ten years I bet I’ll have the taste of brains out of my mouth! As long as I never stop brushing.
William: I can’t find any record of you at the SCIA. So you must have been gone for a long time. I’m thinking you were dirt napping.
Vicki: Maybe your penis is a magic lamp, and all that rubbing made me come out.
William: I’m not taking the bait here. Genies were not involved. If anyone else in this neighbourhood was successful enough to get a magic lamp, I’d have engineered their downfall by now to make myself look better.
Vicki: I guess that narrows down our options, then.
William: Okay, let’s try a different tack. Have you dated anyone I know?
Vicki: I have, but trust me:
Vicki: You’d be happier talking about genies.
William: I’m a master at innuendo. You mean you’ve fucked a relative of mine.
William: Oh god. Mom wasn’t gay, was she?!
It would explain her grandkids.
William: You can’t be Sunny. Sunny and I boned way too much for her to pretend to be my sister.
William: And it’d be a cold day in hell before anyone felt the need to resurrect her, anyway.
William: Little weather joke.
Melanie: Fucking preposterous.
Mayhew: I’ve decided you’re drinking this.
Victor: .oO(Then we’re at cross purposes and a perpendicular angle!)
Mayhew: Oh god, is this my subplot for today?
William: Are you from the SimNation? Or maybe, are you a secret agent from parts unknown?
Vicki: I’m from Pine Valley. And I wouldn’t say my parts haven’t been known, that’s for sure.
Victor: .oO(Act natural! The fuzz is after me!)
Mayhew: In situations like this I find sniper backup handy.
William: Where did you go to public school?
Vicki: In character generation. I’m an NPC.
Vicki: And the Maker didn’t even grandfather in a college education for me.
I didn’t figure that one out until later.
William: I’m pretty sure I’ve met you before, but this definitely isn’t helping.
Vicki: If only I had a reason to want to help you.
Melanie: Now repeat after me, Victor. Melanie! Melanie! Mel… what? What’s wrong?
Melanie: Why do you look so upset?
William: Will you tell me who you are when the time is right?
Vicki: That’s just the kind of abstract promise I can get behind!
Vicki: You might not like me when you find out, though.
William: I’d better fall in love with you first, then.
William: Your ass is a good place to start.
Vicki: I can get behind that too.
Melanie: Still preposterous.
William: We have to be careful. I don’t want people thinking I’m dating my sister.
Yeah, how gross would that be?
Vicki: I could impersonate one of your old girlfriends if you like.
William: No thanks, I have really intense memories of most of them being blasted into a gooey pile of rotten flesh by machine guns or chopped into tiny pieces with an axe.
Vicki: I’m surprised that doesn’t turn you on.
Melanie: Switched from bottle-giving to poop-taking?
Mayhew: Nope. I’m making Victor’s dinner.
Aww, that’s so cute! She doesn’t know the real you.
Melanie: A love letter?! For me?!?!
Mayhew: Occam’s Razor strikes again!
Kenya: Zombie Queen Melanie Lillard is stealing that guy’s mail!
Melanie: Hi Cecilia! Remember me?
Vicki: Sure! Or not. Whichever thing the real Cecilia would say.
Melanie: Hahaha! That’s exactly what I thought you’d say, real Cecilia.
William: Reading my love letters?
Melanie: Wow, everyone’s in a jokey mood today!
William: Bear. Bear. It’s only one syllable, you fucking mouth breather.
William: I should’ve gotten the extended warranty.
Victor: .oO(Sorry, I’m too tired to eat. Goodnight!)
Mayhew: I need to call in that favour with Freddy Krueger.
William: William! WILLIAM! Come on, WILLIAM! All girls are born with that name on their tongues!
Melanie: Am I the only one he’s wearing thin on?
William: APPARENTLY NOT.
William: LEARN TO SAY MY NAME SO YOU CAN START CALLING ME BY IT WHEN YOU GET REBELLIOUS
William: We’re swapping this kid out for a new one in the morning.
Mayhew: I’m going to feed her now.
William: She doesn’t need to be fed.
Mayhew: SOMEONE NEEDS TO CONSIDER MY NEEDS TODAY.
Mayhew: Your son has defied me. I’m taking his sister or his mother as payment.
Mayhew: And one of them is going to suck down a bottle of milk if it kills them.
William: I want you to remember which one of us brought killing into the conversation.
William: Put my daughter down and go home for the day, or I’m gonna kick some butler.
Mayhew: A man who would make that joke is capable of anything.
Mayhew: And a worthy adversary.
William: You can plot my demise tomorrow. I’ve got an opening for an assassination attempt around three, and don’t be late or early because my other appointments tend to miss wide.
Neila: .oO(Mommy! Save me from the monster!)
Wow, not even five years old and she understands irony!
I’m surprised she kept that hair aloft for an entire day.
William: You know what else has been up all day?
Melanie: I’ll wait for you upstairs.
William: Being married ain’t all that bad.
Melanie: We’ve gotta keep these badass genes circulating!
Yeah, it’s working out really well so far.
Oh shit! The Zombie Queen is loose!
Victor: .oO(This one is wax flavoured!)
Victor: .oO(So many opportunities for creativity along conformist lines!)
Victor: .oO(I love being stifled in the name of personal growth!)
Victor: .oO(I think I’m gonna put some poop on the bottom step.)
Neila: .oO(I get where you’re coming from, but have you considered that we only get one bath a day and we can’t reach the sinks?)
Neila: .oO(You don’t wanna spend twelve hours with poophand. That’s why Mayhew wears gloves.)
Victor: .oO(I think it’s to avoid leaving fingerprints, actually.)
Neila: .oO(I’m glad we share the same awesome genetics.)
Neila: .oO(And the same wonky centre of gravity.)
Best Friends! Although not Best Friends Forever until they develop object permanance.
Victor: .oO(No poophand tastes great!)
Neila: .oO(Sure does! Who are you?)
Victor: .oO(I think I’m gonna put some poop on the bottom step.)
Melanie: Morning William.
William: That’s Captain Sparkles! Can’t you tell us apart?
Melanie: Why bother? You’re both dicks.
William: Low blow, Melanie. Low blow. And that’s an order!
Hey! Here’s somebody who looks like they have a plan for the day! Somebody with panache! Somebody with vision!
…somebody with their head in a trash compactor.
Abigail: I’m doing science.
Science that involves getting garbage in your hair?
Abigail: This isn’t hair. It’s a hairlike polymer that resists grime.
That doesn’t sound like hair at all.
Why are you disassembling the television?
Abigail: I’m doing science. Why do I have to keep explaining that?
Because the science I see doesn’t usually involve skinny jeans and screwdrivers.
Treasuring the small victory of getting your slacker ass to work for a change?
Catalina Ying: I bent down to tie my shoelace when he drove past. Slowly.
Clay: I feel like hitting up Mount Noble and finding some loose college chicks.
Most of them are really loose, though. Like, zombie loose.
Clay: Low standards! What’s not to love?
Clay: Ixnay on the ombieszay. The ol’ ball and chain gets riled up too easy.
Abigail: Pig latin? Seriously? You’re lucky I mostly ignore you anyway.
Clay: As long as you’re wiring us for free cable, I won’t take offense.
Clay: If I’m gonna get me some bitches, I gotta get me some bling.
I’m following you so far.
…aaaaaand you’ve lost me.
Clay: I’m gonna dig up a treasure chest and buy some cute freshman girl a vibrator with it!
You know, sure. I want to see how that plays out.
Clay: Aha! I’ve already struck metal.
Clay: What kind of lame-ass defense mechanism is this?
Clay: AND WILL IT EVENTUALLY STOP
Gerard: So that’s where rain comes from.
Clay: Ha! Alright! A treasure map!
Clay: Look out bitches, daddy’s commmmrrrrglllllbrrrrglllllbrrrrgg.
I’m starting to think the outside hates you.
Abigail: Don’t tell him that, the inside doesn’t want him either.
Nice toy robot, Einstein.
Abigail: It is nice, but it’s not exactly fulfilling.
Clay: Speaking of unfulfilling, I’m not putting this back when I’m done.
Abigail: THIS IS BETTER THAN SEX! With the possible exception of sex with William.
I thought you were still mad at him.
Abigail: But conveniently, his penis is practically a separate entity.
Abigail: YES! Check it out!
Abigail: INVISIBLE TOY ROBOT. You can’t even see all the fun you’re having with it!
Abigail: MY ARM IS A STRETCHY NIGHTMARE
Abigail: The wonders of science never cease.
What’s that thing do?
Abigail: It gets sold to the government and then mysteriously fails to function, is what it does. Contract me for desert espionage drones, will they?
Clay: Stop fucking around and make me another sandwich, bitch.
Clay: …is what I’d say if I wanted to die.
Abigail: Hey! Come check this out! I’ve got some neat science shit to show you!
Clay: Go right ahead. I’m definitely paying attention.
Abigail: This one is gonna turn people’s cellphones into cellphone-shaped marshmallows!
Clay: .oO(I really need to meet someone new.)
Clay: .oO(YOU CAN DO BETTER THAN THAT)
Clay: .oO(You can do better than that too, but let’s see how she looks naked first.)
Clay: Nope. Definitely not hot enough.
Abigail: It flies around and makes people hotter! Or lights them on fire, if my calculations are off. But at least those results are comparable!
Abigail: Ugh, I’m in a seriously chair mood right now.
Abigail: IT’S THE WORLD’S LEAST COMFORTABLE CHAIR! Confirmed by the experimental method.
Clay: .oO(THIS MACHINE ISN’T MINE OFFICER)
At least he’s dreaming about real shit now.
Instead of townies.
Clay: Do you even sleep anymore?!
Abigail: I prefer to live my dreams.
Brooke: If you’re gonna steal it anyway, should I just deliver her paper to your house instead?
William: IT FEELS MORE VISCERAL THIS WAY.
William: Your idea is too Machiavellian.
Somebody’s mad at you outside.
Clay: Maybe I can parlay that into a hatefuck.
It’s a dude.
Clay: Maybe he has a sister.
He does, but I wouldn’t recommend that route.
Abigail: I made a robot that grants robot wishes and a machine that shrinks and bottles cities. I need to talk to a patent lawyer with a good grasp of the preposterous.
Clay: I need you, baby. Come blind me with your science.
Abigail: Hmm? Oh, that’s just some gold brick douchebag who lives with me. Hey, did I mention the de-dehydrator? It’s like a squirt gun, only technical.
Next time: Two Women and No Baby.
It’s more of a tragedy than a comedy.