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 Monday, Wednesday, and Friday every week!
This chapter’s fucking awesome.
If you don’t like it, you suck.
And if you do suck, I hope you brush your teeth afterward.
Alvin: I thought I specified non-haunted children’s toys.
Kitty: You think a lot of things.
I’m not giving you any dialogue, because I don’t know if you can talk yet or not.
No, how about you go and fucking look it up!
Meanwhile, Kitty opts out of this entire chapter.
Kitty: OH GOD MY BRAIN FEELS LIKE ALVIN’S
That’s mercy kill territory, that is.
Kitty: I hope you have some entertaining story ideas for today.
Alvin: I was just gonna watch TV.
Kitty: Don’t blame me when we get killed off in the next big event, then.
Kitty: I don’t know why it hasn’t happened yet, but if you hear a loud thump, come make sure I haven’t passed out on our kid.
Kitty: DON’T MAKE THAT FUCKING FACE AT ME
Kitty: SAY THAT TO MY FIST
Kitty: You wouldn’t dare!
Could you maybe provide the other half of this riveting conversation, for those of us who aren’t animists?
Kitty: Seems legit.
I wouldn’t drink that, if I were you.
Haha, yeah! You said it.
Kitty: Definitely about to fall asleep. Can you watch Ivy?
Alvin: Nope! Going to work.
Kitty: But our child!
Alvin: She’s too short to be a secret agent.
Kitty: She’s just about intelligent enough, though.
Alvin: Try not to lay around all day, okay?
Clay: The orange-suited fashionista presents, but does not recommend.
Alvin: The purple armadillo flies at midnight.
The laser-guided karma hates stupid code phrases.
Clay: There’s a code phrase for this occasion, you know.
Alvin: DON’T SAY IT
It’s “the soot-covered agent tries for porcelain, but fails.“
And you know why?
Because he ran to the toilet, and I told him to wash his hands after, and he did that FIRST.
Alvin: I aim to please!
Well aim for the toilet next time instead.
Alvin: I needed a shower anyway.
Alvin: My hair got all mussed up by the rain.
Caryl: Who’s the white dude who’s squeaky-clean but kinda rude?
Caryl: No, you.
Yes, let’s go over what you did wrong.
For the next four hours.
Alvin: I can’t believe this.
Theresa: I’m telling you, you’ve got it wrong.
Alvin: They assign me a green rookie to train up?! Me? The famous Alvin Woodrow?!
Theresa: I’m a seasoned field agent!
Alvin: I don’t have time to hold your hand, junior!
Theresa: I OUTRANK YOU
Theresa: Although I hear you were pretty rank this morning.
Alvin: I don’t get it.
Theresa: Any mail bombs?
Alvin: They’d be labelled as such, right?
Alvin: I mean, they must be regulated, right?
Theresa: Trying to figure out who I pissed off at work.
Conrad Gilscarbo: Silently he waits, as her curious love for him grows.
Theresa: NO NO NO
Alvin: What did mommy leave you that bottle of sulfur for, honey?
Kitty: Purgation. Since this is purgatory.
Kitty: I dreamed I was still a townie, and nobody paid attention to me, and I just walked around doing nothing all day.
Kitty: I hope I have that dream again.
Alvin: Let me know if you want the throw-up juice again. I’ll be back with a bucket.
Kitty: I wonder if they sell pillow-top floors.
Theresa: Are you sure about this?
Alvin: All the cool secret agents are doing it!
Theresa: I thought we did the machinegun thing.
Alvin: Too clumsy and random.
Theresa: You know that’s-
Alvin: -Jedi Knights, yes of course, but everybody needs aspirations.
Alvin: Now, on guard, you wretched, scummy villain!
Theresa: That’s en garde, it’s FOOF
Alvin: I TOLD YOU TO BE ON YOUR GUARD
Alvin: Now the trick to a successful fight is making it look, from at least one angle, like you’ve scored a hit. Do what I do.
Alvin: Perfect, see?! That’s more than enough for the Maker to decide I’ve gotten my leg chopped off!
Alvin: Oh, good, here comes Shane to both teach and learn about collateral damage.
Shane: I’m okay!
Alvin: I dunno, you’re still wearing that jumpsuit.
Alvin: Come on! When I’m going overhand you have an ideal opportunity to stick it in my stomach!
Theresa: But do you want me to actually do it?
Alvin: We learn by doing! You have to kill me to learn how to kill me.
Alvin: It’s stupid, but that’s rules for you.
Alvin: I just realized my last meal would be that bottle of sulfur I forgot was sulfur and drank on the way to throwing it out.
Alvin: So I propose you don’t kill me and we call this a successful lesson.
Theresa: I’m legitimately impressed, Alvin! I thought you didn’t know anything! And yet here you are, knowing at least part of at least one thing.
Alvin: Here. It’s your very own secret agent sword.
Theresa: Box seems a bit small.
Alvin: It’s a folded blade.
EVERYBODY ACKNOWLEDGE THAT AWESOME JOKE
Theresa: You need a girlfriend.
Alvin: Next time we’ll learn about surveillance.
Theresa: I’ve been on over thirty stakeouts.
Alvin: I mean real surveillance: spying on people’s hedges and mailboxes with a telescope.
Theresa: The guys at headquarters told me to ask you about science if you got too annoying to handle.
Sandy: He’s in some sort of erotic trance.
Alvin: I think I just had sex.
Theresa: Guess I’ll practice my telekinesis a bit.
Kitty: THIS CHAIR IS NOT THIS OTHER CHAIR I’M THINKING ABOUT
Kitty: Were you swordfighting on our lawn earlier?
Alvin: Wow, how hard did you hit your head?!
Theresa: My new partner is an imbecile.
I bet you eventually fall in love and get married.
Theresa: You’re forgetting the obvious impediment to that.
He’s already married?
Theresa: I already have standards.
Theresa: But he obviously doesn’t.
How could he?
Kitty: Ugh, I need to go sit down.
Theresa: And watch your stories, no doubt.
Kitty: Your partner’s a cunt.
Alvin: Are you proposing a three-way?
Phoebe: Are you guarding these people?
Theresa: Nope. I’m trying to keep them inside, to guard everyone else.
Theresa: Stay classy, Puss.
Kitty: I could come up with an even more offensive nickname based on that haircut of yours.
Theresa: But would I live long enough to hear it?
Theresa: Do you have any neat gadgets? I didn’t get assigned any.
Alvin: I have an electric penis pistol.
Alvin: It fires electricty out of my-
Theresa: Can I use your washroom?
Alvin: Yes, but the pee on the floor isn’t mine.
RAIN RUNS DOWN THE ROOF!
HOW LONG HAS THAT BEEN HAPPENING FOR
Kitty: HOLY SHIT
Prof. Johnson: ANOTHER SUCCESSFUL MISSION
ENTROPY is making rain run down the roof?
Prof. Johnson: ENTROPY has a very vocal graphics improvement lobby.
Prof. Johnson: Hey, I didn’t just admit to belonging to ENTROPY by any chance, did I?
Prof. Johnson: Because you look passingly, slightly like you might be maybe a secret agent.
Theresa: Surprise, evil-doer! I’m going to cut you to pieces with this sword I somehow have!
Prof. Johnson: Of course you have one. All the cool secret agents do. Didn’t you get your training yet?
Theresa: Oh god, we’re living in Alvin’s universe.
Prof. Johnson: How’s my posturing? Is it dramatic enough?
Theresa: So dramatic.
Theresa: Don’t follow through so hard!
Prof. Johnson: I didn’t mean to, but my back just threw out.
Prof. Johnson: Why are you going overhand? Now I have to stick it in your stomach!
Theresa: Guess you’d better do that, then.
Theresa: ‘cuz nothing could go wrong with that plan.
Prof. Johnson: That thrust didn’t connect!
Theresa: But the angle made it look like it did.
Prof. Johnson: SHIT! That’s all that matters!
Theresa: Don’t dig your feet in so hard, you’ll wreck the lawn.
Prof. Johnson: AND THAT IS WHY WE ARE KNOWN AS ENTROPY
Theresa: I’d have gone with “Lawn Disorder,” if that’s your reason.
BEST JOKES EVER TODAY GUYS
Prof. Johnson: Good thing I’m wearing my sword-proof chest! And leg.
Alvin: That’s weird. The sound is still on when the TV is off.
Prof. Johnson: You can’t go for the same spot twice! What are you, Bard the fucking Bowman?!
Theresa: You, sir, are no Smaug.
Theresa: Not even the Rankin-Bass cartoon one.
Prof. Johnson: That’s just mean.
Theresa: I don’t wanna wrestle.
Prof. Johnson: Oh!
Prof. Johnson: What the fuck was that?!
Theresa: I don’t even know!
Alvin: Lookin’ pretty good there, sport!
Theresa: I’ve been an agent for seven years.
Alvin: I’ll leave you to it then, champ.
Theresa: Sorry old guy, I have to kill you to show up my partner.
Alvin: We’re partners?!
Alvin: So that’s why we came home in the same car!
Theresa: The magic of freeze-frame deflects your blow!
Prof. Johnson: That hardly seems fair.
Theresa: I know, right?
Alvin: You guys are bantering! I didn’t even teach you bantering yet!
Theresa: Mid-blade, mid-scalp, inch deep.
Prof. Johnson: This isn’t pool. You don’t have to call your shots!
Theresa: No, but it’s more impressive this way.
Theresa: Don’t you think?
Alvin: Yeah, but that was at least three inches.
Theresa: That’s what he said.
Alvin: You’ve met Jerome?
I didn’t think there was a want for “Partner Wins a Sword Duel.”
Alvin: It’s called “Meet Someone New.”
Prof. Johnson: Curse you, Alvin Woodrow!
Theresa: Hey! This was all me, here!
Prof. Johnson: You win this round… Alvin… Woodrow.
Theresa: What the fuck!
Alvin: I taught you everything you know! You were my instrument in the final defeat of my eternal nemesis, that guy whose date I stole once.
Theresa: I’m gonna pretend you just complimented me for that awesome sword fight I just won.
Theresa: He’s not dead. How come he’s not dead?
Because I’m trying to figure out how to kill him! I wasn’t a technowizard in 2011, okay?!
Alvin: I have a feeling we haven’t seen the last of Prof. Johnson Trottier!
No, we totally have, just give me a second.
Theresa: We’ll be ready for him next time.
There won’t BE a next time!
Prof. Johnson: OH NO MY SWORD-RELATED INJURIES
Prof. Johnson: You have defeated me and gotten the girl!
Theresa: None of that happened.
Alvin: And yet look where my hand WHAT IS THAT BABY THING
Prof. Johnson: I am milking… the giant… cow!
And your death scene, for all it’s worth.
This is how actors get replaced, Prof. Johnson.
Prof. Johnson: I shall have… my revenge…
Prof. Johnson: In like twenty… years… or so.
Alvin: I have a feeling we haven’t seen the last of Prof. Johnson Trottier!
Theresa: You already said that.
Alvin: I thought this was a do-over.
Theresa: Aw, what now?
Alvin: Do you know how hard it is to find a good nemesis? I was cultivating this one for, like, ten fucking years.
The Grim Reaper: WELL, IT’S HARVEST TIME NOW.
Alvin: I’ll miss you, Prof. Johnson! I’ll miss how I used to miss my paper, because you kept stealing it!
Theresa: I don’t know why this has to be so maudlin.
Maybe because THE GRIM REAPER is here?
The Grim Reaper: I’LL HAVE YOU KNOW I’M THE LIFE OF THE PARTY.
Alvin: More like the Death of the party, am I right?
The Grim Reaper: MY NICKNAME IS INVITATION-ONLY.
Alvin: There hasn’t been nearly enough Science in this chapter.
I know, right? Your storyline has depth for the first time ever.
Alvin: Well as long as you fix it next time.
The Grim Reaper: THAT’S NOT EVEN CLOSE, BUNNY. I THOUGHT YOU HAD THIS THING CALIBRATED TODAY.
Alvin: So, a man just died.
Theresa: He seemed like a jerk.
Theresa: I like him better this way.
Alvin: You did alright, Theresa. I’m happy to have you as my partner.
Theresa: This is not the part where we sleep together.
Alvin: I could pretend you give you a back massage, and then slowly creep my hands under your jacket!
Theresa: Or we could remain completely platonic partners and develop a mutual trust and respect that transcends mere sexuality.
Alvin: Even The X-Files couldn’t keep that up for nine years.
Alvin: I need munchies now. Winning that duel gave me an adrenaline high.
Theresa: YOU WERE BARELY EVEN THERE
Alvin: See you at work, partner.
Theresa: It seems inevitable.
Congratulations! You’re a character now.
Theresa: Don’t congatulate me. Congratulate yourself on moving your stagnant plot forward.
See, I would…
…but the very next image is of ramen noodles in a microwave.
Alvin: The plot thickens!
Whatever boring nonsense makes you happy, honey.
Alvin: Drink deep, my dear. If you dare.
Go get that huge glowing emerald!
She’d rather eat her own hand.
Yeah, that’s definitely today’s takeaway.
Alvin: Hey baby, I just killed a man.
That’s one heck of a defense mechanism you have there.
Oh, don’t be silly.
Nobody dreams of that.
Kitty: Fuck it, I’m doing something today. I’m a real character.
Your contribution is valued, as always.
Anna: So it says here an NPC got killed on your lawn last night.
What a depressing thought that must be.
Alvin: I’m glad I have a spare in case this one kills herself.
Kitty: I think I need to hear that again.
There’s no time! Deus ex machina outside!
Kitty: Goddamn literary conventions!
Brittany Akagi: So, who’s under that tombstone?
Alvin: Every time I wake up, I already know how it’s gonna go.
Alvin: Another super day.
It could be worse.
Next time: the slow annihilation of another happy marriage begins.
Should be fun.