The Sharpesvale Chronicles, Chapter 325

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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In grand Grugly tradition, let’s follow up that awesome last chapter with one where virtually nothing happens.


Oh, except that I incarnate again.

As a girl.

This is Gruglette Prime.

She’s primarily a Gruglette.

She’s also a dead-eyed monster.

I think my profile is lovely on a woman, though.

It’s no great shakes on a man.

Gruglette Prime: I disagree!

Of course you do.

Well I’m glad we got that sorted out.

Gruglette is going to help me make a real cemetery for the hundred billion Sims who have died in the last few years.

Close your damn mouth, you look like you do meth from this angle.


Gruglette Prime: Holy hungus, man, that’s a lot of dead people.

It’s not nearly all of them, either.

Gruglette Prime: It’s a real testimony to the kind and amount of fun we have around here.

I agree.

With myself.

As a woman.

Gruglette Prime: I don’t even know who most of these people are.

Nobody does.

In other news, secret prison break?

In other other news, Leonard is a suck-up.

Leonard: Hey, if it works, it works!

It doesn’t work.

Unlike Limbo Ledge Cemetery, which most certainly does!

It stores dead people with 100% style and efficiency.

Good work, Gruglette. Next time I need to kill one of my avatars for some reason, I promise to kill the other one.

Gruglette Prime: That’s all I ask.

Now go home.

Gruglette Prime: Where is my home?

A weird test subhood called Mock Centreborough, on the lot I used to make the intro to the very first chapter.

The intro I’m about to make.

Time travel is confusing.

This is where I meant to post the lot description.

I just discovered that it doesn’t have one.

It hasn’t had one for SIX ENTIRE YEARS.


Andrew Baity the Atrociously Evil Warlock: I think it’s safe to say there’s no fixing this mess of a neighbourhood.

Lance: Two smiley faces are actually three if they’re green.

Andrew Baity the Atrociously Evil Warlock: Do you need money for a psychiatrist, kid?

Andrew Baity the Atrociously Evil Warlock: Okay, enough poorly-written chatter.

Hey.

Andrew Baity the Atrociously Evil Warlock: You obviously looked me up in the phonebook because my name is Andrew Baity the Atrociously Evil Warlock. I want you to know, first of all, that that’s racial profiling.

Andrew Baity the Atrociously Evil Warlock: I want you to know, second of all, that what the fuck dude no hugs.

Lance: I thought even evil people like hugs.

Lance: Especially manly hugs.

Andrew Baity the Atrociously Evil Warlock: I’m more of a dissolute sort.

Andrew Baity the Atrociously Evil Warlock: Is he doing something ridiculous behind me?
Lance: You know it!

Lance: Look, I know this is weird, but becoming an evil warlock is just no good for me unless I achieve it via dubious means!
Andrew Baity the Atrociously Evil Warlock: It makes a certain sense!

Andrew Baity the Atrociously Evil Warlock: Oh, wow! Is it poisoned?!

Andrew Baity the Atrociously Evil Warlock: Please tell me it’s poisoned.

Lance: Poisoned with loooove!
Andrew Baity the Atrociously Evil Warlock: The deadliest drug.

Andrew Baity the Atrociously Evil Warlock: You are crushin’ it, my man!

This entire chapter is off, in a most distressing way.

Andrew Baity the Atrociously Evil Warlock: Dude, stop it. My name isn’t Andrew Jailbaity.

Lance: Hey! I’m legal! You think these pecs aren’t legal?

Andrew Baity the Atrociously Evil Warlock: Ooh, dead cats? Please let it be dead cats.

Andrew Baity the Atrociously Evil Warlock: It is dead cats, isn’t it?
Lance: You know it!

Lance: Now bring that pussy green tongue herewards.

I meant that as in full of pus, but I don’t think it came out that way.

I’m so sorry let’s try again.

Lance: I would like to learn bad magic in a non-gross way.

Andrew Baity the Atrociously Evil Warlock: That is a sensible approach.

Andrew Baity the Atrociously Evil Warlock: On a scale of Tom Hanks to Mitch McConnell, how evil are you?

Andrew Baity the Atrociously Evil Warlock: We can use the Saving Starving Orphans to Bombing Starving Orphans scale if you’re one of those metric freaks.

Lance: The first thing I felt upon hearing someone had blown up the courthouse was jealousy.

Andrew Baity the Atrociously Evil Warlock: I can definitely work with that.

Andrew Baity the Atrociously Evil Warlock: You’ve got a real deadeyed motherfucker look going for you, too.

Andrew Baity the Atrociously Evil Warlock: Want to read my Halo / Star Wars crossover fanfic?

Lance: I want you to evil me.
Andrew Baity the Atrociously Evil Warlock: I hate it when people abuse my generosity just to get at my evil.

Andrew Baity the Atrociously Evil Warlock: Making me hate you is the first test!

Lance: Can’t I just kill him and take his power?

Sure, do that.

Andrew Baity the Atrociously Evil Warlock: YOU’VE NOW PASSED ALL THE TESTS

Andrew Baity the Atrociously Evil Warlock: Oh, good, I was worried I wasn’t gonna get those dead cats this time around.

Andrew Baity the Atrociously Evil Warlock: Listen to ’em not meowing.

Andrew Baity the Atrociously Evil Warlock: What sweet music they don’t make.

Lance: This is taking forever.

I know.

Lance: I’m doing the sex thing again.

I know.

Lance: Okay, so, there aren’t enough powerful non-romantic interactions in this game.
Andrew Baity the Atrociously Evil Warlock: I follow.

Andrew Baity the Atrociously Evil Warlock: Oh boy, a red-topped thorn stick!

Lance: It’s a rose.
Andrew Baity the Atrociously Evil Warlock: A red-topped thorn stick by any other name would cause as much damage.

Lance: It smells all fruity too.
Andrew Baity the Atrociously Evil Warlock: I love the way my hand is bleeding.

Lance: I should really put that shit back in the bin.
Andrew Baity the Atrociously Evil Warlock: Why? It turns me on.

Lance: How’s about turning me on? To that old black magic?
Andrew Baity the Atrociously Evil Warlock: Um, it’s green magic? Obviously?

Andrew Baity the Atrociously Evil Warlock: And I’ll be needing more violence plants before that starts happening.

Andrew Baity the Atrociously Evil Warlock: I know, right? It smells great, right?!

Andrew Baity the Atrociously Evil Warlock: Doin’ bribes in public! We are so evil.

Lance: Got any fuckin’ magic in there, hot stuff?

Lance: Need to limber up those evil muscles first?

Lance: You dropped…
Andrew Baity the Atrociously Evil Warlock: Pardon?
Lance: Nothing! Just let me stuff something into my pants.

Andrew Baity the Atrociously Evil Warlock: Not suspicious or suggestive at all! You’re learning!

Andrew Baity the Atrociously Evil Warlock: Poink!

Lance: He poinked me!

Lance: Is this good?
Andrew Baity the Atrociously Evil Warlock: Oh, no, my friend!

Andrew Baity the Atrociously Evil Warlock: This is bad.

Lance: Bad to the boner!

Lance: Now to duel my mailbox.

Andrew Baity the Atrociously Evil Warlock: Do what you gotta do, my weird man.

Lance: Having murdered an innocent mailbox, my path is set!

I’m so glad this is over.

Next time: aw, fuck. It isn’t over.

This chapter depicts gameplay from 5 April 2012 to 6 April 2012.

2 Comments

  1. You make a lovely woman, Grugs! So… now there are three of you? And there will be four?

    Limbo Ledge is beautiful! And Lance makes an adorable green Mini Me.

    …hmm, maybe I shouldn’t comment over here. I don’t know if it will notify me of replies although I did give it my email……

    1. There will be so many.

      Thanks. It was worth putting effort into the cemetery, as there are only two certainties in this neighbourhood: death and adultery.

      Lance is awful.

      This is the first comment ever made on this site, by the way. I was all ready to delete it, since I’ve had nothing but bizarre spam this entire time. So from my perspective your commenting over here was a very good thing. Let me know if it notifies you!

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