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!
Guess I might as well be back for real, huh?
Alvin: Everything’s been different since Iris came into my life!
Yeah! Your daughter got kidnapped.
Alvin: …no, Iris got my daughter back.
Oh, I’m sorry, I thought we were tallying what’s happened since Iris came into your life.
Alvin: I should have asked you this earlier, it’s really unfair of me, but hey: Science. Pro or anti?
Iris: Science is my favourite thing in the world.
Alvin: Wow! She means it so much it came out in a monotone!
Alvin: I’m gonna assume that’s what that means, anyway.
Alvin: Hey William. Um… how would one tell if one was dating an evil secret agent?
William: I’d look for unexpected changes in my life surrounding their appearance, frequent ominous hints about diabolical plans, and a lack of conviction in the things that they say.
Alvin: Phew! Disaster averted.
You’re a real piece of work, Alvin.
Alvin: Everyone tells me that! It’s a compliment, right?
Social Worker: Let the record show that I recommended against this.
Ivy: .oO(I’m sure that’ll carry a lot of weight, since you don’t even have a name.)
Alvin: Drink your milk, floor, I’ve got a darling baby to collect.
Social Worker: Christ kid, does everything excite you.
Social Worker: Maybe I’d understand if I were a real person.
JUST LIKE REAL SOCIAL WORKERS AMIRITE
Yeah, fuck the crosswalk, you’re only carrying the future.
Social Worker: I think this is the right address. Call us if I’m wrong.
Social Worker: Or if the bad man hurts you again.
Social Worker: Or if you want me to come kill him just ‘cuz.
Alvin: I didn’t leave my daughter home alone. My daughter was kidnapped by ENTROPY.
Social Worker: Newspaper doesn’t believe you, I don’t believe you.
Social Worker: Hey boss!
…are you actually breaking the fourth wall here? Because I normally have to pretend.
Alvin: Daddy’s missed you so much, princess!
Social Worker: See you tomorrow.
Ivy: .oO(I’ve been in the system! I’m street now.)
Alvin: TEACH ME GANG SIGNALS
Ivy: .oO(OH HELLS YES)
Alvin: Ivy, this is Lily White or Rose White or Balloonflower White or some such shit.
Kelsey: Ooh, so close.
Alvin: In honour of your return, let’s try not to make you barf so much.
Alvin: I’d hand it to you personally, but you need some friggin’ exercise.
Ivy: .oO(You’ve got until the bottom of this bottle to get off my stuff.)
Ivy: .oO(Somebody please teach me to speak.)
Alvin: Say “bottle.”
Ivy: .oO(Yes, teach me baby things now that I’m almost a child. Very useful.)
Alvin: You must have had a great time as the orphanage’s only mute.
I almost typed “orphanophage.”
That would be a very different story.
But we get there eventually!
Alvin: Say “Alvin”?
Alvin: That’s all you need, really.
Kelsey: This is still mine.
Alvin: What’s the matter, kiddo?
Alvin: Haha, what?
Ivy: Alvin Alvin?
Alvin: Don’t fucking embarass me.
Iris: I think we’re all well past the point of embarassment by now.
Iris: Hey, you got your thing back.
Iris: And you did something dumb to it! Well done.
Tucker Z. Collins, Interplanetary Privateer: ‘sup guys?
Tucker Z. Collins, Interplanetary Privateer: Don’t mind me, I’m just one of you guys. From whatever planet ours is.
Tucker Z. Collins, Interplanetary Privateer: Hot babes located! Commence the attack!
Iris: Are you sure these aren’t both my daughters?
Alvin: This one has my eyes!
Iris: She might just feel sorry for you.
Tucker Z. Collins, Interplanetary Privateer: I totally understand this local custom!
Roof’s off the shed.
Iris: How can you be looking at that when you’ve got our gorgeous family to take in?!
ROOF’S OFF THE SHED
Kelsey: Look at the silly faces they’re making!
Tucker Z. Collins, Interplanetary Privateer: Awesome, I know this part! They have to fight to the death to determine which one gets the advanced growth serum and progresses to immediate adulthood!
Alvin: Ooh… can we do that instead?
Iris: You wouldn’t like the result. I’ve taught Kelsey well.
To paraphrase one of the greatest minds of our generation, you should have also taught her not to have her unfortunate bone structure.
Kelsey: At least I don’t look like that!
Alvin: Yes! YES! I finally have that son I wanted!
Tucker Z. Collins, Interplanetary Privateer: Your spacebosun’s whistle doesn’t work.
Ivy: Do I have to look like this forever, dad?
Alvin: You can look however you like, honey.
Kelsey: Within the constraints of that stupid face you have.
Kelsey: I don’t think even Science could fix that.
Alvin: Do you know any space wizards, Tucker Z. Collins, Interplanetary Privateer?
Tucker Z. Collins, Interplanetary Privateer: The correct term is space warlock. Doesn’t your planet get Bewitched?
Kelsey: I bet he knows more about robots than you do.
Tucker Z. Collins, Interplanetary Privateer: No. There are no robots in space. Only space warlocks.
This just in: Ivy’s not actually hideous.
Kitty was pretty Maxis, so I wasn’t hoping for much.
As for this thing, well… considering her mother’s genetics, I’m not surprised.
Kelsey: What are you talking about? My mom’s gorgeous!
Right. ‘cuz Iris is your mom.
I have trouble keeping track of all the whacko things you people believe.
That face is definitely not Price-less.
Iris: You guys should make out.
Tucker Z. Collins, Interplanetary Privateer: Yes.
Someone please explain that displacement pattern to me.
The store is that way.
Iris: I just need to reach the lot edge.
One of these things is not like the others…
Alvin: You would look so hot if you melted.
Emily: You’re banned from the whorehouse.
Irfan: I’m the mayor.
AND YOU’RE DEAD DAMMIT
Iris: Some people should be hired by the whorehouse.
Ember: We’ll call that “Plan B” for if my successful LAW CAREER falls through.
Iris: Get out of the way. You’re just scoffing at all the clothes to make yourself feel superior anyway.
Michael: But I need that!
Iris: Hey Jerome!
Jerome: Hey Emily! Who’s this weirdo?
Iris: I’m into the mayor!
THE DEAD MAYOR
Iris: And I’m out of here.
Well… at least I can still tell them apart by their haircuts.
Naw, it’s okay, I can spot that Chelseaface for MILES.
Hey, are you aware that you’re supposed to be trapped under the floorboards across the street?
Kent: I’m not really attached to the concept…
Tucker Z. Collins, Interplanetary Privateer: You guys have quantum superbutlers on this planet too? I mean, we have them? On our planet?
Tucker Z. Collins, Interplanetary Privateer: …too?
Iris: Go back to Uranus, Tucker.
Tucker Z. Collins, Interplanetary Privateer: It’s pronounced Your Anus.
Iris: I’m glad I was able to get your daughter back.
Alvin: How are you at unclogging drains?
Alvin: …are you trying to get the Social Worker on my back again?!
Alvin: Look, I’m not sure what they taught you at the orphanage, but you need to forget it.
Alvin: Iris. Help.
Iris: Why ruin my reputation? They already think you’re a pedophile.
Alvin: I have a plan.
Ivy: IT’S WORKING
Hey, get that pointillization off your hands. This censorship needs to be consistent.
But I’m not going to re-do the image.
Because I need to be consistent.
Hmph. Even I feel uncomfortable now.
Actually, the naked kid was already doing that.
WHY CAN’T YOU PEOPLE WEAR CLOTHING
Iris: …somebody’s in a passionate mood tonight.
Alvin: YOU SAVED MY DAUGHTER I LOVE YOU
Iris: Let’s use that sentiment.
Iris: I’m nothing if not an opportunist, as my presence here indicates.
Iris: So, Alvin, you have a question for me.
Alvin: Right! What is it?
Iris: Will I marry you?
Alvin: Oh my god yes! You will!
Alvin: You will so hard.
Iris: Like taking equity from a baby.
Iris: Now you can’t be made to testify against me! If that ever comes up for some reason.
It’s amazing they’re not related, they both have the same bitchface.
Iris: Are you angling for a drive-by blowjob?
Iris: ‘cuz a true professional will not be hurried.
Iris: Alright, let’s see. Randy Reiner. Peter’s brother! He knows a lot about ENTROPY but he’s not a member. We should probably resurrect him and erase his memories… but then again he’s a fucking doofus, so he’s probably forgotten. In hell.
Iris: Deborah Cavendish! Doesn’t know anything, but nobody would miss her, so she’d a good target if we get bored.
Iris: Vicki Enriquez, alias my fucking daughter’s stolen name. Just looking at the thought balloon gives me a rageboner.
Iris: Plain Jane Monif. Been doing some spying lately, but she’s so boring nobody would hear her if she told them what she knows.
Iris: Random Murphy children! Who knows what they might know, there’s so many of them we don’t pay attention.
Iris: Pierce Tsang! I hate his outfit, he needs to die.
Iris: Valerie Enriquez! Vicki’s sister, as far as she knows.
Alvin: Are you plotting on my bed?
Iris: Now, how about that son you wanted?
Alvin: YOUR UNFLAPPABLE DEMEANOUR IS SO HOT
Stephen: Fools! Your effete little alarm will not stop me!
Stephen: FROM STEALING YOUR EFFETE LITTLE ALARM
Tyler: The Alarmist is attacking! Lawman to the rescue!
Tyler: Can you describe your assailant, ma’am?
Tyler: I’ve got you now, Alarmist! Come down here!
Ivy: Was it scary?
Kelsey: Did he hurt you?
Tyler: Don’t make me come up there.
Stephen: Shouldn’t you be doing that anyway? There’s, like, innocent folks and shit.
Iris: Not as many as you’d think.
Ivy: KILL HIM
Kelsey: RIP HIS HEAD OFF
Tyler: What?! No!
Iris: This looks like a secret agent kind of problem.
Alvin: Really? ‘cuz from where I’m standing I’m hiding in the bathroom.
Iris: So this is that famous SCIA bravery I’m always hearing about.
Alvin: You only HEAR about brave SCIA agents when they’re KILLED IN ACTION.
Stephen: It was nice meeting you folks!
Tyler: DON’T BE NICE YOU’RE A BAD GUY.
Iris: And you’re a badass guy.
Tyler: My ass isn’t that bad…
Tyler: You might want to wear clothing around your children, sir.
Alvin: Why bother? I hear Double Jeopardy applies to Social Workers.
Tyler: I’m putting you away for a long time, The Alarmist.
Stephen: I never agreed to these stupid nicknames.
Tyler: So why did you call me Lawman that one time?
Stephen: I CALL ALL COPS “LAWMAN”!
Let’s finish this one off in traditional fashion.
Iris: Don’t manipulate my biology for narrative purposes!
You’re one to talk about manipulation.
Iris: I’m saving up my guilt for a guilt party in the far future.
Good plan. In the near future: MURPHY MAYHEM!
It won’t be that exciting.