The Sharpesvale Chronicles, Chapter 290

Welcome to the Sharpesvale Chronicles, an ongoing neighbourhood story in The Sims 2!
Warning: this journal may contain uncensored nudity, violence, profanity and sexual themes.

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Don’s trial continues.

Don’s trial.

Don is a trial.


Joshua: The prosecution calls Cameron Price an idiot! Also it calls Cameron Price.

Cameron: That was mean.
Abigail: Well you are an idiot.

Cameron: Hey Big D! He has a big D.
Don: I really do.

Joshua: Please tell the court about how gross you were with the defendant.


Cameron: Or grosser.

Cameron: So much grosser.

Joshua: How did you come to know the defendant well enough to put his rotten dick in your rotten box?

Joshua: Also how did his dick and your box get rotten.

Cameron: I had the best of intentions, assuming the scale only goes up to “bad.”

Cameron: I invited Melanie and Don to eat my dorm-mates because I wanted to learn what it was like to be dead.

Cameron: It makes sense if you’re a Knowledge Sim I swear.

Joshua: So the defendant made you a zombie?
Cameron: Oh, fuck no.

Cameron: I kicked his ass solid.

Cameron: I’d been exercising a lot so I could intern with Poseidon in the Challenger Deep after I graduated. Turns out all that muscle memory wouldn’t let some limp-dicked wuss pop my zombie cherry.

Cameron: That’s why I also invited the Queen Bitch of the Universe, naturally.

Cameron: I think Don’s lame ass only managed to beat up, like, one girl. A girl in a dress. A flower dress, if you can believe it.

Cameron: When we made it to Pine Valley he ate Oliver Murphy, though. I think they had some bad blood. Because they were both dickheads.

Cameron: I hear that lead directly to Oliver becoming an axehead.

Joshua: You seem really critical of him, considering you let him pump you full of zombie juice.

Cameron: It was a momentary weakness.

Cameron: It was also a momentary weakness when I killed his zombie wife so we could be together.


Cameron: Wow, what the fuck did my eyes just do there?!

Cameron: Anyway he almost immediately started macking on my slut sister.


Cameron: So naturally I killed him.


Cameron: oh no it was a crime of passion

Joshua: You sure know how to raise ’em, counsellor. Your turn.

Ember: BAD daughter! DON’T fuck zombies!

Cameron: Yes ma’am.

Ember: Anyway you say my client didn’t directly zombify many people? Please say more about that.

Cameron: Yeah he mostly just lured boys into our cabin in the woods. In his bathrobe.

Ember: Can we pretend you didn’t say that.

Cameron: I don’t think it was a sex thing. I think he just liked preying on the weak.
Ember: Please stop.

Cameron: I always thought it was dreamy how he was simultaneously evil and lazy.

Cameron: I have bad taste in everything.

Cameron: I bet nobody else here knows what zombie dick tastes like.

Agatha: …probably like Sullivan.

Ember: It sounds to me like you’re a lot worse than he is. And I’m not only saying that because you’re already going to jail.

Cameron: You’re also saying it out of love, right, mom?

Ember: That was low.
Cameron: Like your love level, right, mom?

Ember: MAN I raised a BITCH.

Cameron: Monkey see monkey DO.

Ember: Maybe I’m glad you’re going to jail.

Ember: Does that make me a bad person?

Nah, it’s not your fault.

You’re a ginger.

You were born without a soul.

Ember: No further damage, your honour.

Agatha: Take this thing back to its cage.

Ember: Daughterfucker.


Joshua: The state calls hot scientist to the stand.

Abigail: That feels a bit reductive.

Abigail: Mmm, that boy is one sexy science project!

Joshua: So tell us, Miss Young. How did a lovely lady like yourself end up eating people?

Abigail: Are you talking about when I was a vampire or when I was a vampire zombie.

Abigail: Because I’m only mad about one of those things.

Abigail: It all started when some of my kids were also idiots!

Abigail: My dumbass daughters did the same dumbass thing Ember’s dumbass daughter did.

Abigail: “Hi Mr. Zombie please come show me what it’s like to have my skin slough off before the inevitable onset of old age does it for me.”

Abigail: I checked this shit out on the security feed later on. It wasn’t pretty. Except for my daughters. They’re at least half pretty. Genetically speaking.

Abigail: So the stupid paperboy gave my daughters an STD.

Abigail: That’s “Stupidly-Transmitted Disaster,” if you’re wondering.

Abigail: He also fucked up a cowboy, and I think some other townie who was even less important. Not that greaser in the background, some dumb chick. You can see the pic, right? It’s not just for the audience’s benefit, is it?

Abigail: Anyway the cowboy fucked my husband up.

Abigail: So our son had to kill him later. The sign of a really good villain is they get a Founder killed, am I right?

Abigail: I’m right.

Abigail: So this asshole goes “Hug me!”

Abigail: And I do not want to hug him.

Abigail: He zombied me up, and I think he copped a feel while he was at it.

Joshua: Then he left, right? What a nice guy! I’m sure that’s what happened. Right?

Abigail: Yeah, no. One of my kids who didn’t fall head-first too far from the ol’ tree set off my zombie defense system in the foyer. Fire foyer! Foyer fire.

Abigail: Only he can start foyer fires.

Abigail: Yeah well FUCK YOUR JOKES TOO.

Joshua: Any more evidence that Don is basically Hitler?

Abigail: Well both of my idiot daughters ended up dying because of him.

Abigail: Although the fact that we had a serial killer in town might have had something to do with it.

Joshua: That was one hot take, Young Miss.

Abigail: Boo slang.

Joshua: but it makes me feel relevant

Abigail: Boo relevance.

Abigail: Also boo Don.

Abigail: I never did wipe his zombie handprint off my jacket boob.

Abigail: Also he almost wiped out our entire race.

Abigail: ‘cuz without me we’d all be dead. And he deaded me.

Ember: I’m flying.

Ember: And now I’m here suddenly!
Abigail: Neat.

Ember: So EVERYTHING your stupid family does is someone else’s fault, huh?
Michael: I like where this is going.

Ember: ‘cuz it sounds to ME like your daughters were a bad influence on my poor, innocent, dipshit client.

Ember: Is it his fault that he fell in with so many successive bad crowds?

Abigail: Kinda?

Ember: Kinda, yeah.

Agatha: I love where this is going!

Abigail: I love going away from here.

Joshua: Gone but never forgotten, baby.

Ember: The defense calls my asshole client.

Ember: Tell them why you don’t deserve to die, assuming you can think of something.

Ember: You’ll have to lie.

Don: I feel like you’re not one-hundred-percent committed to my case.

Don: Anyway I was just trying to help my friends. I didn’t mean to create a monster! It’s not my fault that I didn’t value the Sharpe girls at more than three thousand simoleons a pop.

Don: I’d been balls-deep in the redheaded one. I could gauge her numeric value with decisive clarity.

Don: And honestly, I don’t see why I should have had to pay full price for resurrections just so the rest of you wouldn’t have had to deal with the minor inconvenience of a zombie apocalypse!
Ember: Ho boy.

Don: Don’t call me that.

Don: If I were a ho boy I’d have fucked both Sharpe sisters instead of just the cuter one.

Don: I’m totally DTF with you, by the way.

Don: You’re making a weird high-pitched squealing noise. Is that intentional?

Ember: It’s the sound of a minor yes and a powerful no warring for control in one body.

Don: This trial is crap anyway. YOU were already DEAD when it happened, and that shithead with the feathered hair and this old bat of a judge didn’t even EXIST. Not fair.

Don: I mean it’s not like a trial of my peers is even possible, on account of how I have no peers, on account of I’m so handsome and cool, but you’re not even trying.

Don: So WHAT if I lured children into a death basement?

Don: So what if I got more school kids killed than an AR-15.

Don: It was mostly Townies and NPCs who suffered, and last I checked they don’t have rights.

Don: Hot DAMN that ass looks FINE when you walk away so DISAPPROVINGLY

Joshua: So let me get this straight. You’re too pretty to die?

Don: Cool! You forgot cool. Pretty and cool.

Joshua: So instead of remorse, you’re offering the “it’s not my fault the well-being of the world matters less to me than my bank account” defense?

Joshua: I mean, putting aside the fact that you’re a total douchebag, you haven’t done anything but prove your guilt so far.

Joshua: I feel like the state ought to take the same approach to you that you took to those poor women: set a spending limit and say “fuck it” once it’s exceeded.

Joshua: And oh, guess what! Your three thousand bucks are up, asshole.
Ember: What an inspired performance!

Joshua: In this case, of course, instead of everyone’s brains being eaten, the result is just one asshole going to jail.
Ember: And he is an asshole!

Joshua: Appreciate the cheering section, honeybuns.

Don: Can we make this about me again? I only care about me.

Don: In case that hasn’t been made obvious already.

Don: Give me my fifty-dollar fine and send me on my way already.

Joshua: Oh, you’ll need that fifty bucks to buy off the rape gangs in prison, sunshine.

Joshua: If there aren’t rape gangs there already I’ll pay them to start one.

Joshua: The prosecution rests, your honour. And seethes.

Agatha: You already rested. It was the redhead’s turn to rest. But I’ll forgive it because of the wordplay.

Agatha: I’m gonna go rub one out in my chambers and pretend to mull this over a bit.

Renée: It’s like they’re not even considering his innocence!
Michael: Yeah, you’re right, I’m pretty pleased so far.

Dagmar: And you’re telling me that shitheel was a paperboy.
Stephen: Paperboys are rough characters! They have to dodge rednecks and breakdancers and Death.

Stephen: I think Death might get the last laugh here, though.

Ember: -will be happy with any verdict-

Joshua: I think I got too close to that heartless bastard and caught his cold.

Agatha: Mmm, that was fun. The best thing about robes is you don’t need to wear undergarments!

Agatha: Donny McLongName. I don’t like you.

Agatha: Nobody likes you.

Agatha: I feel like I could introduce you to every Sim in the entire Sim franchise and not a single person would have a single nice thing to say about you.

Agatha: You smell like Axe deodorant and grease.

Agatha: You don’t even have the decency to be one of the interesting villains.

Agatha: Your trial should have been earlier in the docket, leading up to a farce like this just seems lame.

Don: I still think this could go either way.

Renée: Not so much, Donny.

Agatha: I hereby sentence you to life in prison. I’d spring for the death penalty but that rape gang idea has me intrigued.

Agatha: Cheer up, random fat chick. Maybe you can apply to be a rape gangster!

Brooke: Hi! Your life is over! Come with me.

Don: Come with you? I wouldn’t even come on you.

Can we put the death penalty back on the table, Aggy?

Don: I’m picturing you in sexier clothes. It isn’t helping.
Brooke: I’m picturing you dead! It’s my new favourite pastime.

Dagmar: That seemed like a show trial. Should I have intervened?
Stephen: Oh sure, all you service NPS stick together, huh?

Jewel: I don’t know why I’m here.

Abigail: I bet it looks like a pink solar flare.
Cameron: Well I bet it looks like a pink anaconda!

You’re both wrong, it looks like a pink circular saw.

Abigail: Go team damning testimony!
Cameron: There’s a new superhero group in town!

Melanie: You’re too lame to be on my team.

Next team:

Next time: a light interval with some civic corruption and a death.

To bring a bit more levity to the scene.

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