The Sharpesvale Chronicles, Chapter 355

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 which Chekhov’s title is finally fired.

Writing it up for science?

Abigail: Hells yeah! Any project that doesn’t end up as an apocalyptic log is a success in the mad science community.

Bradleigh: I’m not a failure!

Bradleigh: Haven’t melted yet, anyway.

Bill: Maybe you’ll melt in my mouth.

Bill: Not in my hands.

Bradleigh: Are you brand-sponsored or something?

Bill: Yeah, I’m in the pocket of big clipping.

Bill: Also big snogging.

Bradleigh: …this all we’re doing today?

Valerie: Somebody lose a poo golem?

Stick that in your book and publish it.

Abigail: Oh, I’m not gonna publish yet. Not when I’ve got such glorious results on the way.

Abigail: Bradleigh was just a proof-of-concept. Don’t tell her I said that.

Abigail: Mad science is progressive. I mean that in every sense of the word.

Abigail: You do something crazy, and it works? You do something crazier.

Bill: I like this flophouse.

Abigail: Stop staring at my perfect ass.

Bill: I feel so lucky!
Bradleigh: And you are!

Bradleigh: Seriously though watch that dude, he’s bad news bears.

Bill: Whatever.

Bradleigh: Don’t you whatever me!
Bill: Whyever?

Upgrading are we?

Abigail: Sidegrading.

Abigail: If there’s one thing the word needs, it’s one of me. If there’s eight things the world needs…

Abigail: Faciō ergo erit.

Bill: Hey look, we’re trippin’.

Bradleigh: Don’t you be trippin’ while we’re dancin’.

Bradleigh: Contractions.

Bradleigh: Palpitations!
Bill: Reciprocation.

Abigail: Consultation!

Bradleigh: So are you a good prison guard or a bad prison guard?
Bill: I am an indifferent prison guard.

Bradleigh: I would be too.

What, me?

I would be not a prison guard.

Bradleigh: Yeah, that’s better, you’re right.

Bradleigh: You sure do take a lot of pictures of my face.

I made, I’m proud.

Wait, I mean…

Feci ergo superbus?

Bradleigh: Superbus sounds like what Miss Frizzle drives.

Bradleigh: Look at this zombie’s dumb outfit and hair.

That’s the hair you used to have.

Bradleigh: Exactly!

Victor: Y’all loiterers still loiterin’?

Victor: Pretty sure there’s some laws apply to this.

Victor: I smell.
Bill: You do.

Bradleigh: Holy shit he does.

Victor: Skeedaddle.

Victor: Watch me pretend to swim.
Bradleigh: I won’t.

Bradleigh: Transition!

Bill: I thought you already transitioned.
Bradleigh: I walked right into that one.

Bradleigh: Fucked right into that one?

Bradleigh: Anyway get pumpin’.

Bradleigh: This is a real eye-opening experience, let me tell you.

Bill: I hope it works on me too.

Bill: I’m pretty squinty.

Bill: Is the sphinxface strictly necessary?

Bradleigh: Man, just look at that little bugger go in and out!

Bill: “Little”?!
Bradleigh: Well you never saw mine.

Victor: If you want a look you’ll have to pay me.

You don’t often see hoverhands during sex.

Or long dead-eyed stares.

Bradleigh: You haven’t had married sex, then.

Victor: Fifty bucks and I’ll let you poke them.

Bradleigh: Yeah, sorry, I’m all poked up over here!

Victor: Not every police chief would offer you this great deal!

That much is true.

Victor: …I’m trying not to take personal offense.
Prof. Amar Danaher: Well don’t.

Victor: Okay, ten bucks and you can watch from back here in the weeds.

Bill: At least he’s not selling ménage à troi rights.

Bill: Whoops. Slipped.

Bradleigh: I made the right decision.

I’ve always wanted to know what that feels like.

Bradleigh: It felt like dick.

Bill: Good dick?
Bradleigh: Pretty good.

Bill: So what happens next?
Bradleigh: You exit. Pursued by a bear or not. Your choice.

Bill: I choose not to bear.

Victor: Sure, you guys fuck on a park bench and I’m gross.

Bill: That is a fair summary of tonight’s events, yes.

Abigail: So, how’s it working out so far?
Bradleigh: It’s great! I’ve always known that piston-pumping was too much work, and now I can just lay back and take it!
Abigail: What a generous and energetic lover you must be.

Bradleigh: I think I was always meant to be a woman.

Yeah, men get a raw deal in my neighbourhood.

To counterbalance the real world.

Bradleigh: I fucked a prison guard!
Abigail: Is that good?

Caryl: Does she know that’s only average?
Bill: Shut your fat face.

Bradleigh: You did a great thing, Abigail.
Abigail: I always do.

Bradleigh: I’m serious.
Abigail: I always am.

Bradleigh: You’ve helped me realize who I really am! Hot.

Bradleigh: I always felt so unfulfilled as a dude!
Abigail: Yeah, it sounded like you were getting fulfilled out there, alright.

Abigail: I’m glad you’re happy with your new identity.
Bradleigh: You should make all dudes into chicks.
Abigail: Okay, enough utopianism.

Bradleigh: I owe you a debt.
Abigail: Oh, good. A lazy person owes me a debt. Sure that will come in handy.

Abigail: Alright, on your lazy bike.

Bradleigh: …I don’t have a home.

She can stay with you!

Abigail: SAYS WHO.

Abigail: Right. Says god. I keep forgetting.

Alvin: This bordello gets top marks!
Abigail: Yay!

Alvin: Top marks.


It’s pronounced “gitfo.” Like “Gitmo” but with less human rights abuses.

Bradleigh: Still missing the pit hair.

Bradleigh: You win some, you lose some.

Looks like we’ve crossed the terminator.

Wait, we’re still at the lab? That must mean…

Bradley: It means your five days in May turned into three additional days in JUNE.

I’m still not abandoning the song motif.

♪ Funny how you can look in vain ♪

♪ Livin’ on nerves, and such sweet pain ♪

♪ A loneliness that cuts so fine ♪

Bradleigh: The best thing about loneliness is the cure.

Brooke: This cure’s taken.

Bradleigh: I used to be A-list.


Bradleigh: NOTHING I want is TAKEN.

Brooke: Rackinfrackin’ hierarchy.

Aurora: Hi! I’m abominable!

Bradleigh: I’m Bradleigh.

Bradleigh: And for a change, I’m okay with it.

♪ To find the face you’ve seen a thousand times ♪

This chapter depicts gameplay from 3 to 4 June 2012.

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