The Clover County Chronicles, Chapter 242

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!

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Let’s have a shorter, more relaxing chapter this time.

Shorter anyway.


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: Whuck.

Daisy: WHAT

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.

Poppy: what

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.

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