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!
My buffer is back.
Eventually this neighbourhood will be called “Hyphen-Murphy Valley.”
It’ll really play havoc with the journal title.
At least her hotness is unhyphenated.
Ember: It’s a curse. I have to store my clothes in the freezer or they burst into flames.
I like how you turned that boring person into a less boring person.
Stephen: Hey, fuck you.
LESS BORING IS THE BEST YOU DESERVE.
Ally: Nope. Wrong.
Ember: Let him cook, already.
Ally: THERE IS A CORRECT WAY TO MAKE PANCAKES
Ally: And it involves nagging.
Ember: Hey, it’s our little Morlocks!
No, I think Jerry fits that bill better.
…feeding the attic demons?
Stephen: So is it the maid outfit that helps you guide food to its proper destination?
Stephen: No problem.
Ember: Where did he take them?
Stephen: I’m too angry to explain.
The Sims 2.
Capable of creating an interconnected network of social relationships and nuanced personal development…
…incapable of handling a house with two tables in it.
Ember: Yeah, I’m having a hard time handling it right now as well.
Jerry’s practising for prom night.
Ally: HOW AM I STILL A MAID
This isn’t feudal Europe!
Gerald: Something neat upstairs?
Stephen: Have a nice vacation!
Gerald: We’re leaving entirely!
Stephen: I should hope so! Nobody wants to go on vacation with only some of their body parts!
Ally: You get that we’re not coming back, right?
Stephen: That’s fatalistic! Just because you’re boring townies doesn’t ensure that you won’t survive your vacation!
Ally: …I think I should take this picture with me.
Stephen: That picture is the only thing that keeps me from coming on to you.
Ally: I’ll miss you, Stephen.
Stephen: I have fucked it so many times.
Sandy: So, you want me to shoot him if he tries to stop you?
Gerald: Or just in general.
Ally: Now we can live our own lives!
Don’t respond, I’m not sure if you can talk yet.
Stephen: Now I remember why we had those menials.
Behold! Bath and anti-bath.
When they combine, instead of powering starships, they just… make one person a whole lot cleaner than the other.
Stephen: And instead of creating energy…
You were keeping that in your underwear, were you?
Stephen: Still no dirtier than anyone else’s phone.
Abigail: I see you left me fourteen blank messages.
Stephen: And it worked!
Abigail: I’m not marrying you again. Find another patsy.
Stephen: Hey Andrew! Is Patsy home?
That’s it, take a deep breath. We can beat this thing.
There’s hope for the future!
Stephen: Hey! I hear your standards have lowered!
“Cecilia”: There’s a reason for that.
Stephen: Luckily I have all of the fetishes.
“Cecilia”: Luckily you are all of the fetishes.
DAMMIT DAMMIT DAMMIT
“Cecilia”: STOP IT I’M TICKLISH
Stephen: I’m tickling the baby, woman. The world doesn’t revolve around you.
Stephen: Stupid cops.
“Cecilia”: Promising opener!
Stephen: Greaseballs beat up stupid cops.
“Cecilia”: New reality show!
That’s right, don’t let it see you.
What a visually rich experience this story is.
She’s not gonna be impressed when she sees why nobody’s paying attention to her.
In related news, you can tell how much trouble I’m having getting inspired for a chapter by how many descriptive captions I use in place of dialogue.
Stephen: I have nothing to say!
Stephen: It’s almost a threesome!
Ember: How about a real one?
Stephen: Ignore my wife, she’s rude like this.
Ember: Goodbye Cecilia.
Stephen: …yes. Goodbye, Cecilia.
Ember: Hahaha remember how Cecilia’s sisters burned to death?!
Stephen: That’s not funny! And that icon is wrong.
Ember: Oh yeah! That’s the gay chick with no friends! Weird.
Ember: Hahaha that gay chick has no friends!
Ember: Let’s do a point-by-point comparison here.
You have at least two good points there.
And you’re acing the talent portion!
Stephen: Here comes the trauma train!
Wren: I am a trauma llama.
Wren: And I want my mamma.
And then her head soared away to find others of its kind.
Stephen: My little star-child.
I’m not at all comfortable with any of this.
Yes. That’s better. Do that.
Ember: How come I don’t get to do anything sexy anymore?
You just blew a guy.
Ember: That’s nothing to me! Escalation, dude!
Stephen: Escalation Dude to the rescue!
Ember: Are you incapable of getting turned on by just one woman now?
Stephen: I do need a boost when adultery isn’t involved.
Stephen: I should have married you first.
Ember: Yeah, thanks for marrying Dr. Frankenstein and filling the county with your dullspawn.
Ember: Video games.
Stephen: Now we’re a webcomic!
Stephen: Let’s play Space Invaders.
Ember: It’s more like a really basic game of Tetris.
You have nothing to be proud of.
Stephen: I can think of at least two things!
Ember: We already did a boob joke.
Stephen: And now we’ve made one for each boob.
Get this fuck the fuck over with already.
Ember: We’ve still got it after all these years, Stephen! I do, anyway.
Stephen: She’s a real boon to the rose industry.
Your kids are becoming an infrastructure problem, Stephen.
Stephen: I think my walls are becoming transparent.
Stephen: My son is married to the Hand of Poseidon. I think we’ve reached that level of emergency here.
Stephen: Maybe we can make some Persephonean deal where he takes my kids and makes me even hotter.
Stephen: I’ll pitch it in the morning.
Stephen: Over to you, WEDNESDAY.
Gerard: Yeah, that looked pretty cold.
Gerard: Looks even colder now, though.
William: That’s just ‘cuz she’s giving you the cold shoulder.
WEDNESDAY: What are you talking about? My shoulders are hot!
William: There’s no sunlight under there.
I guess she’ll just have to die, then.
Cameron: I’ll die too! IN YOUR ARMS! Tonight.
Cameron: I’m wondering if outside is the right place for these roses right now.
WEDNESDAY: I’ve programmed this device to reconstitute child faeces into nutrient-rich comestible gel!
Now reprogram me so I don’t remember hearing that.
WEDNESDAY: Nursery rhyme module: install!
WEDNESDAY: Why didn’t that work.
WEDNESDAY: Wait, are you running Windows 10? Check your compatibility settings.
Brooke: Robot jokes. Woof.
WEDNESDAY: Maybe you guys have remote desktop access disabled? I’m not picking anything up.
WEDNESDAY: Don’t make me call the Geek Squad.
Chelsea: IF YOU DO I’LL KILL ‘EM
Chelsea: Hey! Free blank sheets!
WEDNESDAY: That’s it! That’s it! But you have serious latency issues, kid.
WEDNESDAY: Time for an upgrade.
WEDNESDAY: Congratulations! Your body size will soon nearly match your head size!
WEDNESDAY: Pardon my vents.
WEDNESDAY: You don’t need to blow. My mouth is a forced air compressor.
WEDNESDAY: Try to lean back, you need to support that giant watermelon.
Tada! It’s another Sharpe face.
Neila: Which are the best faces!
WEDNESDAY: But never forget that you’re only half Sharpe! You’re also half zombie nazi.
Neila: Yeaahhhh. So hey, cake!
WEDNESDAY: This is such a human ritual! Lighting a flame just to see it snuffed out shortly afterward! The perfect metaphor for your lives.
WEDNESDAY: I’m surprised you choose to celebrate mortality in this fashion.
Neila: In our defense, we didn’t know we were doing that!
Neila: BUT IT SOUNDS PRETTY GREAT
Neila: Woo! C’mon, Vic! Your neck will feel so much better soon!
WEDNESDAY: And you can bathe yourself, too!
OH NO GODZILLA
I dunno, let’s see Godzilla again.
Victor: So, we have two entire cakes here.
Victor: There’s two of us, not counting the robot, who doesn’t eat cake.
Neila: So you’re saying there’s not enough cake.
Victor: THRTS WHRT R’M SRYING
Victor: oh no a girl
Neila: We’re best friends! We’re twins! We even have a psychic link!
Victor: All of which means I know way too much about you to want to be near you.
Victor: I’m gonna go start a One Direction cover band.
Victor: And then KILL MYSELF
I really don’t see how William and Melanie produced these two.
I mean, they look like their parents…
BUT THEY ALSO LOOK GOOD
William: Hey, where else can you find genetics that both destroyed and saved the world?!
WEDNESDAY: We taught you to walk, not run.
Neila: Daddy daddy Victor sucks.
William: I don’t know who you are, but I like your style.
I should do some default replacements for these.
With my crayons.
And my toddleresque drawing skills.
WEDNESDAY: I BET YOUR PARDON
Neila: I’M THE BEST
No, really, she means it.
Enjoy not looking terrible while it lasts, kid. I’ve seen your teen years.
And your nose-chin ratio.
WEDNESDAY: She looks so snotty she could probably attend private school without being accepted first.
Neila: ON THE GROUND, RUBE.
You’re right, WEDNESDAY.
WEDNESDAY: Your kids grew up.
William: Harry Chapin warned me this day would come.
William: I fucked Andrew’s wife.
WEDNESDAY Andrew is technically my son.
William: High five?
William: I think fucking a dude’s wife is the new sick burn.
WEDNESDAY: It would make arguments a lot more interesting to watch.
WEDNESDAY: I hear Cameron’s pretty flexible, your muscles must be exhausted.
William: She’s the Hand of Poseidon. She works below crush depth. So yeah, pretty flexible.
WEDNESDAY: So, I live in your house now.
William: Someone’s got to.
William: I live in your vagina now.
WEDNESDAY: Any I/O port in a storm, eh?
William: Haha Chelsea was so mad I was fucking her sister but then she was like “naw you’re hot I can’t stay mad for some reason.”
WEDNESDAY: I WISH I KNEW WHAT THE REASON IS
Trying to find a book you like?
Victor: Trying to find one where the villains aren’t basically my parents.
Victor: It’s hard to find fiction that really speaks to you when you’re the child of zombie Voldemort and nymphomaniac Rambo.
Neila: I’ve just chosen insanity.
Everyone here has.
William: You are way better than a Roomba.
William: Although you lack its raw sucking power.
Neila: What do you want?
Victor: I want to get away from the sound of dad’s new blowup doll vacuuming his molars.
Neila: You were kinda rude to me earlier.
Victor: It was a rough time for me. I had that hair, you know?
Neila: We need to stick together, Vic. Everyone’s gonna be against us! Dad’s, like, the G-man extraordinaire and mom was a mass murderer.
Victor: Technically they were both mass murderers. Dad just got better press.
Victor: You and me, sis, we’re goin’ places!
Neila: Places with bars, though, probably.
The only cure is more pattycake.
Victor: This isn’t pattycake! We’re playing with big imaginary dicks.
And talking about big dead dicks.
Yeah, what a loser Mayhew was, burning that whatever.
And also being a murderer.
Victor: Bang! Bang! I’m a secret agent!
Neila: TOO CLOSE TO REAL LIFE.
Neila: I don’t want to play this game anymore.
Victor: Aw, c’mon! You can be mom, and I can be dad. I can lock you up in a different room every day, and you can try to break out and murder me!
Just don’t roleplay your dad too well, okay?
Big imaginary dicks indeed.
WEDNESDAY: I put my extra-wide jaws on and everything.
Neila: How can you sleep with that sound from downstairs?
Victor: I’m pretending it’s a sump pump.
William: I, for one, feel drained.
William: But I fill up again quickly.
WEDNESDAY: Technically, as your maid, you are paying me for these services.
William: Then they’d better be first-class!
And then this happened?
William: YOU CHEATED ON ME WITH ME
WEDNESDAY: YES AWESOME
…what is even.
William: SUCH TREACHERY
William: SO ANGRY
I don’t get it.
William: NEITHER DO I FIX YOUR BROKEN GAME
WEDNESDAY: Is there no release from this abusive relationship?!
NO WE JUST FINISHED WITH THAT
FRIDAY: I miss your new breasts, WEDNESDAY.
WEDNESDAY: I should hope so.
William: THIS HOUSE IS A MESS
Cameron: MY MOUTH TASTES LIKE DICKS
Cameron: Probably yours does too.
WEDNESDAY: Please forgive me, FRIDAY. I was overcome by the possibilities of this new body, and also everyone’s files are corrupted so it’s probably not even my fault really.
Cameron: Disassembled, I bet they’d both fit in the one bag.
Cameron: ONCE I REMOVE THIS ENTIRE PINBALL MACHINE FROM IT
Cameron: SUCH A BIG PINBALL MACHINE
Cameron: I know I trod on your moment, but in my defense, it was a dull moment.
WEDNESDAY: WHY DIDN’T YOU WEAR YOUR SKIN
Careful with your grip. You don’t want to hit the wrong balls.
I do not believe you are seeing a cockatoo in there.
A cock, certainly, but not a cockatoo.
WEDNESDAY: More like a cock for two!
William: Bring a friend!
William: And clean this shit up.
William: I have more important things to do.
William: …wow. And they let me have a machine gun.
This is how my mom played pool.
We had a tile floor, too.
Good place for your hand.
William: I’m cock blocking myself.
William: AND THIS GAME IS COCK-BLOCKING ME
William: I’m famous.
William: I’m still cool.
William: I’m gonna fuck this pool table.
Ladies and gentlemen, The Sharpe Household.
Aww, she’s all suckered out!
Victor: Nguh. What. What? No.
Victor: What the hell no.
Neila: Not tonight, I have a childhood.
Neila: This is not adorable.
Victor: YOU HEARD THE LADY
Them’s sure some scribbles!
William: I should stick one of those fake vaginas under there.
William: BUT THEN IT WOULD PROBABLY CHEAT ON ME WITH ME
Yeah, not gonna lie, no idea what happened there.
William: Maybe robosexuality is a mental condition.
You can’t pray away the robo-gay!
William: I can try.
Chelsea: Freeze, you little bastard. FREEZE.
Neila: So, last night.
Victor: I wanna be just like him.
When you grow up?
Victor: It’s the down I’m focused on.
Chelsea: Kisses! Like, what are they?!
Kent: Hypothermia much?
Kent: Dick much?
William: Ask my family!
William: Or my neighbours!
William: Mornin’ princess!
Neila: Oh! I see. We were doing a modern fairytale.
Neila: “The Princess and the Penis.”
William: Sorry about that. I usually forget about clothes entirely, I spend so much time naked.
Neila: “Sorry I flashed you, I always do that”?
William: Shut up and eat these pop tarts.
Neila: WE LOVE YOU DADDY
Chelsea: And your shitter’s nice, too.
Neila: I’m gonna be beautiful when I grow up!
William: Let’s focus on growing up first, okay.
Victor: How come Neila got a cool dress and my clothes suck?
William: Because she looks like me and you look like Melanie, so I like her better.
Chelsea: Is my favourite -ism!
Neila: OH MY GOD THERE’S DANDRUFF OUTSIDE
Neila: THE SKY FAIRY HAS DRY SCALP
WEDNESDAY: And he’s all like “why pay a butler when I can get a robot sex maid!”
Chelsea: Do they come in dude flavour too?!
…and we’re done?
Not that I’m complaining, because wow too many pictures, but that seemed a little abrupt.
Next time: the neighbourhood’s peace and quiet prepares to end abruptly as well.
So there’s that.