The Clover County Chronicles, Chapter 256

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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I’ve recently acquired about a hundred perfectly silent readers.

Feel free to say “hi,” folks.

I love the random application of a huge range of non-WASPy surnames to the townies in TS2.

You wouldn’t think someone named “Almassizadeh” would look like they’re from New England, but there you go.

So are you gonna go by “Nick Enriquez” or “Nick Sharpe”?

Nick: “Nick the Fantastic” has a nice ring to it.

I took this to mean Nick had gone to school.

I thought it was a safe assumption.

Brenda: Where do you get fine ironwork like that done?
Valerie: Build Mode.

Good for you.

I wouldn’t drink anything from a cup with an illegible label.

Wait, are you coming or going?

What’s going on.

I don’t know why, but this looks like a gunfighter standoff to me.

The Gnome, the Bad, and the Elephant?

Nick likes to torture the flamingoes by pretending he’s gonna kick them.

Brenda: Have a nice day at work! Or welcome home! I’ve lost all sense of time.

Where could you possibly be going?


That is one seriously deep hole.

Which does not exist.

Vivian: Oh yeah? Make me.

Vivian: I’ll believe you’re tough when you learn to control your own bladder.

Chief: .oO(Bitch is fierce.)

Valerie: I bet this is why your original owner abandoned you.

Chief: .oO(Pretty sure the actual reason was that she was too dead to take care of me. You know, after getting run over by a car.)

Hey, you’re actually touching the couch.

Most Sims can’t manage that.

God I wish he’d stay that way.

In Generation 3 I had a Sim with permanent face-wash going.

It was fantastic.

Word of the day!

You want a fucking medal?


Do you…

Do you do anything else?

Solidarity forever.

More or less.


Daisy: We’re going to vote on naming the neighbourhood after William Sharpe. You are going to vote in favour.

Daisy: You can disagree, but I’ll have to familiarize you with the terminal application of my axes, with their sharpness, to your skull, with its fragility.

Valerie: Sharpestown, Sharpesville, or Big-Dicked Billy’s Hamburger Hamlet, count me in.

Nick: Geez, tone it down a little.

Daisy: ENTROPY set off a bomb at the courthouse! Boy I wish I knew who was behind it.
Valerie: Uh-huh.

Daisy: The state really needs to send those rootin’ tootin’ SCIA agents in, guns blazing!
Valerie: Sounds like a good storyline for your soap opera. Hey, you don’t suppose the real Cecilia Phelps had any part in that bombing?

Daisy: We can only hope not! The real Cecilia Phelps is a stone-cold badassmobile.

Valerie: Thanks for dropping by. “Daisy.”

Daisy: Remember our little chat vis-a-vis axes and skulls, ‘kay?

Daisy: Don’t welsh on me.

Okay, this is too badass a transition for me to muck it up with a family loading card.

She’s lying.

Rookie Vampire Hunter Conrad GilsCarbo: Hey! Love the TV show! Can’t wait ’til they kill you off.

Daisy: You think that of me? No. I am the one who kills off.

I can’t even imagine how you managed that.

Daisy: Yeah, sometimes I even scare myself.

Daisy: Because nothing else can.

Armando: We’re writing our own stories from here on out, girl!

Two people have a problem with that statement.

I am only one of them.

Jizelle: Who’s ze uzzer?

Daisy: Hey there! Good job stealing everything! Not such a great job escaping the scene of the crime, but we can fix that.

Jizelle: Don’t I know you from zomewhere?
Daisy: I’m a serial killer, and I play one on TV.

Daisy: See what I did there.

Jizelle: What eez your, how to say, point, madameoiselle?
Daisy: Kudos for the ersatz accent,but you’re gonna need some next-level fuckery skills to make this new identity shit take.

Daisy: Follow me. I’m an old hand at this.

Daisy: Plastic surgery! So old acquaintance can be forgot.

Daisy: Go for something cute but doofy.

Jizelle: Beeg nose, stupide mouth, check check!

Jizelle: [pain in French]

Jizelle: Oui oui! French-esque!

Go fix that hair, you look like a broken Kinder egg.

Armando: What look should I go for?
Daisy: Don’t care.

Daisy: I mean sure, go nuts, do your own thing. Because I don’t care.

Armando: I appreciate your commitment to my autonomy.

I appreciate Jizelle.

Daisy: That is a heartbreaker in the making! Now go upstairs and put a cow suit on.

Jizelle: What? What ees zis nonzense about a cow zuit? Jizelle Nouveaux eez a police officair!
Daisy: Right, because that’s a safe career to fake.

Jizelle: Listen bitch, I actually am a cop.
Daisy: Sandy Cho was, as I recall, a rent-a-cop. You are not Sandy Cho. You are dizzy Jizzy Nouveaux, Sandy Cho non-impersonator.

Daisy: Now go upstairs and put the cow suit on so we can smuggle you out of here, French.

Daisy: Oh! And vote “yes” to renaming the Valley. That is also a thing.

Jizelle: Zo I take eet you are a member of ENTROPY?
Daisy: Yez I am.

Jizelle: And you play one on TV?!
Daisy: Isn’t it ironic? Don’t you think?


Jizelle: Zo, you can get me a fake career?
Daisy: Sure! What you looking for?
Jizelle: Zomething in a zooperheero would be nize!

Daisy: You know, I think the old Captain Hero is getting a bit tired. We might need some new blood in the skies, fighting all those supervillains too inept to hide in plain sight!

Jizelle: You are very handzome, Armando!
Armando: And you make a fabulous frog.

Jizelle: Ooh la la! Haha.

Daisy: Go change your hair or something, would you? I’m not spending all day on C-listers.

Armando: She scares me.

Jizelle: She scares me too.

Daisy: What’s more, I have excellent hearing.

Daisy: Alright, go upstairs and find some duds. ENTROPY employs only the best SimChinese sweatshops.

Daisy: As for the surgical unit, STOP! Hammerspace.

Daisy: Um. Priorities?

Jizelle: Hey, not bad! Domestique yet fuckable.

Armando: I’ve done a terrible thing.

Daisy: You look like a nightmare I’m having.

Daisy: So I take it you’re going for the Fabio look?
Armando: Yeah! Should I make up a fake accent like Jizelle’s?
Daisy: Nah. But you should smash a seagull into your face.

Daisy: Excellent. Now into the cow suit.
Jizelle: Why can’t I just move out under cover of night?
Daisy: Because I like cow suits, okay?! BECAUSE I WANT TO SEE YOU IN A COW SUIT.

Daisy: It’ll be SO funny.

Jizelle: What the fuck did you do.

Jizelle: I mean, what ze fuck did you do.

Armando: It’s a work in progress.
Jizelle: Eet’s a work in shambles. Zhambles?

Daisy: So, about ENTROPY.
Armando: I don’t want to know. I’m going to live an honest life from now on.
Daisy: Well that’s stupid.

Daisy: VERY stupid.

Not as stupid as this, though.

Jizelle: Goodbye my love!

Jizelle: Oh mon cherie!

Daisy: I thought she’d never leave.

Armando: So, when do I get to go?
Daisy: The sooner, the better.

Armando: HOLY SHIT what are you doing?
Daisy: Chlorinating the townie pool.

Daisy: When Daisy closes a cow suit, she opens a window.

Daisy: Watch the paint job.

Daisy: Sweet SimChrist that was fun.

Chase Knight: This looks like a job for Chase Knight, the Knight who Chases! Criminals?

Daisy: Not unless Chase Knight can teleport.

Chase: Okay, I quit.

The Grim Reaper: TO WHAT DEGREE?



Lance: Oh boy! Something!

Lance: Hey! It’s everybody’s favourite problem-solver!

Daisy suffers through her remorse in elegant fashion.

Lance: I was kinda hoping I’d get to do this one.


Lance: I just hate how all the good serial killing is getting done by old established firms.

Lance: And also how that dude stole all our stuff.

Lance: The Lance says “C’mere!”

Lyndsey: The Lyndsey says “Coming!”

Lance: Okay, someone killed our adults. Are you sure you can speak? As opposed to Speak n’ Spelling?
Lyndsey: .oO(The prom queen says) Yes.
Lance: Good, because we’re gonna need to finesse those Social Work fuckers hard.

Daisy: There’s no killing left in this storyline, I’m out.

I feel kinda guilty about letting her learn that.

It’s like teaching a bear to use a gun.

Nick: I wish I could meet the person who offed this dude. I bet they’re cool.

Daisy: Some day, kid.

Daisy: Some day.

Lyndsey: The AH… the AH… AH-CHOO!
Lance: There’s some things even a speech impediment can’t change.

Lance: Weird. They didn’t steal my stuff!

Because it’s millennial garbage. Not worth five bucks.

Lyndsey: My… stuff’s… here… too.

Maybe they were afraid your… affliction, might be contagious.

Lance: We’re a team, Lyndsey! With your good looks and my ability to form complete sentences under a reasonable time-frame, the sky’s the limit!

Lance: Nobody’s gonna come between us.

Except they are.

Next time: uh, what I already said. Just now.

People will come between them.

That’s as elegantly as I can do that teaser at 3:32 in the morning, sorry.

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