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 whenever I damn well please!
Let’s have a shorter, more relaxing chapter this time.
More like the Rossi NOT-Family!
Good idea! There’s not likely to be anything interesting inside.
Brittany: I am metaphorically shitting bricks right now.
Brittany: And I don’t even know why.
Daisy: You want me to what.
Look, I know what you came here to do, and you might as well throw out her garbage first. As a gesture.
Daisy: I’ll give her a fucking gesture alright.
Daisy: Right, that’s most of the trash taken care of.
Brittany: What are you doing in my house?!
Daisy: Being biologically related to the person who owns it?
Brittany: So, what… you want me to pay rent, or something?
Daisy: Rent! That’s cute.
Daisy: So hey, I’m just thinking you and my lil’ sister Popcorn might have figured out a bit too much of the shenanigans I’ve been up to.
Daisy: Ugh, what’s with all the passers-by when you want to murder someone?
Daisy: Woof. Dodged a real bullet there.
Yeah, Poppy? Well, then, good news!
Daisy: Those pants
Daisy: OH COME ON
Brittany: I was kindly stopping for death, gimme a break.
Brittany: So, do I get to know why a soap opera star is killing people who know her too well?
Brittany: Holy SHIT that’s a big axe.
Daisy: You know that serial killer I play on TV?
Daisy: Think of me as a method actor.
Brittany: That’s the sound effect, right? I’ve seen the show.
Daisy: Heheh, of course you have. Everyone has.
Daisy: Just some cast list trimming.
The Grim Reaper: GO FOR THAT HAIRCUT NEXT.
Daisy: Some day, somehow, I’ll get him for that crack.
Poppy: Surprise! I’m still here.
Poppy: This, though? Not so surprising.
The Grim Reaper: HEY, HOW’S
REDACTED WORKING OUT? YOU NEVER FILLED OUT THE RESURRECTION SATISFACTION SURVEY.
Poppy: Don’t bother explaining. My fake sister is a murderer. It’s not that hard to understand.
Poppy: At least do me the courtesy of not feeding me bullshit.
Daisy: Man, that woman sucks the joy right out of everything.
Poppy: I changed my mind, you horrible cunt.
Poppy: IT WAS YOU, WASN’T IT
Daisy: Probably! What specifically though?
Poppy: The bomb! The fucking courthouse bomb!
Daisy: Oh. Duh?
Daisy: Don’t tell me it actually took you a while to get that!
Daisy: I’m offended you didn’t think of me first.
Poppy: So you play a murderer on TV because you’re a murderer in real life.
Daisy: Oh! So close.
Poppy: Oh good, here comes the bullshit.
Daisy: Bullshit nothing! You want to know the truth? You want to know who you really are? Go ahead! Ask me! If you think you’ll be happier knowing, ask me!
Poppy: NO CUZ YOU WANT ME TO
Daisy: Fine then, fuck off home.
Daisy: Go commit suicide again why don’t you.
Daisy: Have a think on that, “fake” sister.
Daisy: Also I sold all your stuff.
Welp, guess I don’t need to rename the household!
Daisy: There needs to be a classier term for “garbagewoman.”
Daisy: “Expurgator” has a nice ring to it.
Next time: no deaths, probably!
Daisy: I bet you don’t even know what that word means.