The Sharpesvale Chronicles, Chapter 301

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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Young and the Rest.

Abigail: The perspiration vents on this suit are working well.
Brooke: Yeah, thanks for that.

Genetics! The only reason I don’t kill all my townies.

Instead of just most of them.

Abigail: Gonna make something of yourself today, Brooke?
Brooke: I’ve been thinking I might like to be a nuisance, Abigail!

Abigail: Ohhhhh yeah this shouldn’t be legal.

Brooke: Going to school like that?
Kyle: I’m not going to school. I’m older than the principal.

Brooke: Later old man.
Kyle: Off my property, damn kids!

Oliver is in permacreep mode now.

He’s dating his niece so… it suits him.

Kyle: Wait, you’re doing what?

She’s doing research for her next book, “Stomping Your Treadmill To SHIT.”

Kyle: I’m editing myself into the dedication.

Who’s it already dedicated to?

Kyle: Various pseudonyms for herself.

So this one’s about fitness, I assume.

Abigail: Yep.

And it’s called-

Abigail: The Fitness of Fitness, yeah, obviously.

I liked The Science of Science and The Nature of Nature better.

Abigail: That’s the problem with themed titles. You should see the shit J.D. Robb uses.


“Dark in Death.”


Abigail: Fitness is a difficult topic, there’s a lot of… sort of… eugenics overtones. That’s why I didn’t dedicate it to my family.

I’m sure they’ll thank you.

Oh, hey, the toothbrushes still worked at this point!

Kyle: What? What happens to the toothbrushes?

The best thing.

Your master class on physiology has a section on sneakers?

Abigail: What? No! This is what muscle cells look like under a microscope.


Abigail: Do you know any different?


Abigail: Then shut up, right?

Nathaniel: I’mma leave her this dead rat.

That must be some serious typing you’re doing.

Abigail: Studies have shown that the tackier a tracksuit is, the faster you’ll run so your neighbours can’t get a good look at it.

I thought this was meant to be a comprehensive overview of the science.

Abigail: It is!

To help you get the building blocks of life straight in your mind.

Abigail: It is!

And yet you’re writing about dumbbells?

Abigail: No, no, I’m writing a letter to my publisher.

Brooke: It says I have to get my report card signed.
Oliver: Neat!
Brooke: By my parents.
Oliver: Awesome!
Brooke: I don’t have parents.
Oliver: Stop whining, Batman.

Franklin: Man, your girlfriend is hot.
Oliver: We don’t really like each other.
Franklin: That’s two more points in her favour, right there!

Franklin: So yeah Faith and Yvonne are going to die in prison.

Franklin: And yet I got to cook those zombies and nobody cares!
Oliver: Lower your voice, the ZCLU might be listening.

Oliver: Wow, though. Prison! I bet that ends up being a storyline. Lucky girls.

Oliver: Anyway, lookin’ good, bro! I bet you’re the next Andrew!
Franklin: Fuck yeah! Main character what! Where do I sign up?
Oliver: I think you just need to grow a beard.
Franklin: I’m out.

Oliver: I bet our kids are at least less ugly than his.

Oliver: I bet I could beat Andrew up.
Franklin: He’s got a robot hand.
Oliver: You don’t know me, man. I’ve got moves.
Franklin: It was a major talking point at Don’s trial that he beat the shit out of you.

Franklin: I bet that chick down the street who thinks she’s a Speak-and-Spell could kick your ass.

Any particular reason?

Brooke: I’m going as all the female characters in The Witcher this Halloween.

Brooke: Yeuch. Plain white toast.
Oliver: She doesn’t like you.
Franklin: She doesn’t know me!
Oliver: Yeah, she’s way ahead of the curve, eh?

Oliver: Do you think we’ll die alone?
Franklin: Of course not. We’ll die with a whole bunch of other people who are also dying. How long have you lived in this neighbourhood?!

Franklin: Mom will probably accidentally release a plague that turns us into butt gerbils and they’ll have to send the butt police to put us down or something.

Abigail: There’s a difference between mad science and bad science, you know.

Oliver: Dear diary,
Diary: I’m honestly not that interested, dude.

Abigail: Get off your ass and do something, kid!
Oliver: Nobody ever died writing in their diary.

Kyle: Mom’s science books make no sense.

Maybe they make sense to other scientists?

Kyle: I doubt it, the prefaces are always just long rants about how stupid other scientists are.

Abigail: They’re ugly, too, but that’s not usually as pertinent.

People with glass progeny shouldn’t throw stones.

Kyle: Dear diary, I will now reveal to you my chequered past.

Oliver: I take it you’re not looking for company.

Abigail: Are you neglecting Oliver?
Franklin: Learned from the best!
Abigail: Damn skippy!

Franklin: You might want to unzip those first.
Kyle: Look, I might have died in a bathroom, but that’s not how.

Abigail: So, how you guys settling in? To being alive? Again?
Franklin: I don’t know what to do with myself.
Oliver: Existential dread! All of the time.
Abigail: Good, you’re fully adjusted.

Franklin: Our sisters are genocidal maniacs.
Oliver: My lifelong lack of respect for them, retroactively justified!

Franklin: I hear they were private schooled.
Oliver: Um… yeah? Like… all of us were. Weren’t you?

Franklin: What kind of a loser goes to private school, am I right?!
Oliver: I am literally wearing my private school uniform right now.

Oliver: And also I don’t know if you’re aware of this but you look preppier than all of us combined in that outfit.

Oliver: I can see why you ignored us, mom. We suck.
Abigail: Oh, do you? Because honestly my ignorance of you went entirely unexamined.

Kyle: Both of our parents are neat freaks. Why are you such a pig?
Franklin: I have a cleaning fetish, and the rest of you aren’t making any messes.

Franklin: Nobody will ever love us.

Brooke: He’s right.

Abigail: Look at you, earning your keep!
Brooke: It’s been years since the trash was taken out. Entire alien civilizations rose and fell in this bag.

Franklin: Wanna waste my life with me?

Brooke: You should make something of yourself.
Franklin: That’s right, I am awesome!

Franklin: You weren’t saying I’m awesome.
Brooke: Most men wouldn’t have this realization, so congratulations.

Brooke: Instant crushing after a compliment, though, that’s pretty basic stuff.

I know the feeling well.

Oliver: Hey baby.

Oliver: I’m glad you’re not dead anymore.
Franklin: That’s right, I am… sorry. Sorry. I’m working on it.

Oliver: You should, like, go out of the house and meet someone.
Franklin: And face those bullshit load times? No thank you!

Franklin: I’m just going to wait here until there’s a hot walkby or I die of old age.

Brooke: I’m walkin’ by here, I’m walkin’ by here!

Oliver: Aliens are totally real. Mom got abducted once!
Franklin: That’s an urban legend.
Oliver: EVERYTHING mom did is an urban legend, that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen!

Franklin: Oh god, oh god.

Oliver: Can’t a guy hug his brother?
Franklin: No!

Kyle: Any reason you’re parading around naked?
Brooke: It’s the only way he’ll take pictures.

Brooke: Somebody needs to be a point of interest around here.

Oliver: Hey baby.
Abigail: I’m your mom.
Oliver: Kinky!

Abigail: I think I like you better than my children.

Your children are pretty crap.

Not that you’ve been adding much lately, either.

Abigail: Science is a process, not an event!

Yeah, well, next time: an event!

Not much of an event, but at least it’s not just endless pics of some chick on a treadmill.

Abigail: Science marches on!

Kyle: Awesome! Now we don’t need to sleep! We can spend the extra hours doing more cool and interesting things like regretting our existence and doing drugs on the street!

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