The Sharpesvale Chronicles, Chapter 296

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.

Updates whenever I damn well please!

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The House of the Rising Townies.

Ivy: Nobody can burn pancakes like my dad, right, lady?

Ivy: Ratfuck lady who lives with my dad?

I didn’t know those bottles were electric.

Let’s all bond over how Kelsey needs to put some fucking clothes on.

Alvin: Can we skip the bonding and go right to the clothing?

Kelsey: Clothes are gross.

No, kids are gross. And kids without clothes are worse.

Kelsey: Science is worse.

Than kids without clothes?

Kelsey: Than anything.

You’ll make a fine politician.

Bitches love a man who can make a stack of charcoal bricks.

Somehow this doesn’t strike me as a pregnancy activity.

What are you doing here?

Andrew: Just judgin’.

That ain’t workin’.

THAT’S the way you do it!

Iris: WHY.

No, seriously, why.

Man, Ivy’s right, science is worse.

Alvin: Goodbye trustworthy spouse!

Iris: He’s gone, let’s do it.

William: Stupid self-improving townies.

You couldn’t at least have waited until he was gone?

Iris: How can we sneak around behind his back if his back isn’t here?
Alvin: -puts his foot through the floor-

Yeah, that’s definitely the front door.

Iris: You fucked my daughter.

William: Now to complete the set!

All my Sims have the same Turn-On.

“Married to Someone Else.”

Iris: Wanna go make out inside and then come back out here to fuck?
William: Inefficient! I like it.

Childhoods exist to be ruined.

Ivy: Bye! Don’t answer, you’re not real.

Baby: Hello? Who’s knocking?

Rebecca: Go find your own swings.
Ivy: These are my swings.
Rebecca: Great, you’ve found them! Now go away.

Baby: OOF


I think my Turn-On is that hair model.

Kelsey: Alright, turd, into the bowl with you.

Iris: Pregnant blowjob miming!

Ivy: Coarse, but dessicated!

I’ve been saying that for years.

Kelsey: I’m gonna take careful notes for bribe-related reasons.

Iris: Isn’t it your bedtime?
Kelsey: No?
Iris: All questions to children are rhetorical, Kelsey.


Kelsey: Couch will never betray me.

Put your hands under the cushions and then say that.

♪ Rock lobster! ♪

Wait, no, that’s not right.

I don’t have a thousand ships, but if I did…


William: Yes, sir! Rubbing it in, sir!

Stephen: I’m telling.

Iris: ohhhhh what’s up with the shadows

William: They’re fucked too!

♪ A wasted youth is better by far than a wise and productive old age ♪

Yes, seriously, that’s a song lyric.


Alvin: Stupid ghost, make a friend or something.

Iris: I can’t believe that fit inside me.

Iris: It’s all downhill from here.
William: Wait’ll you get arthritis.

Subtle backstabbing visual is subtle.

Until explained.

I don’t think there’s ever been a pregnant Bond girl.

A good spy always leaves evidence of his misdeeds.

William: Hey Ghost Dud, what’s up?

Alvin: The witch trials begin.


William: Man, dead people suck.

William: Maybe I shouldn’t have made so many of them.

That’s what HE said.

Alvin: Who’s “he”?
Iris: Me to know, you to find out.

Iris: Except hopefully not.

Iris: Nine inches, Jesus Christ.

Stephen: You anglin’ for a heart attack, old man?

First you poke her, then you poker?

William: You came off hiatus for THAT?

No child has even enjoyed making their bed.

Ivy: What about building up a static charge to zap their sleeping sister, though?


Iris: You set the round timer, I’ll be the referee.

Apparently the shock shorted their brains out.

Underwear bonding!

Stop making it a thing.

Next time: I reverse what little goodwill I’ve built up lately.

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