The Sharpesvale Chronicles, Chapter 357

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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Man, what a Bradley/Bradleigh stretch of chapters this is.


Well, a Price Family.

Chelsea: I would also accept Price-Murphy, Price/Murphy, Price/Sharpe-Murphy, and Frost/Nixon.

Chelsea: So what’s this I hear about you turning my dad into a girl dad?

Do you have a problem with that?

Chelsea: I don’t have a problem with him being a woman. I have a problem with him being a hotter woman than me.

Other hot people are not the enemy, Chelsea.

Chelsea: That’s shit and you know it.

Oliver and his dick are also here.

Chelsea: I told him he could stay if it stayed.

Brooke: He is a dick.

Oliver: A sensitive dick.

Brooke: Oh yeah? Let me kick it.

You realize that’s basically the relationship repair tub?

Brooke: Yes. You think I like coming over here every three hours to kick the can?

Oliver: I’d rather keep picking it up than pick her up.

Oliver: But apparently I don’t get a say!

Brooke: I wouldn’t give you one.

Oliver: Found someone to replace me yet?
Brooke: I’ve found a stark emptiness that does about as much as you did.

Brooke: How come you’re not at school? Did you get emancipated? Is there a hack for that?

Oliver: I dunno? I guess I’m technically so old they don’t know what grade to put me in?
Brooke: Can I whack your balls?

Chelsea: Thought you were in the hot tub.
Oliver: There were developments.

So many developments.

♪ Are you guys up for the Pokérap?! ♪

Emma: .oO(HARBLEBLARBLE)

Oliver: Do they become self-sufficient now?
Chelsea: Not really.
Oliver: Will they at least be able to wipe their own asses?
Chelsea: Oh god I hope so.

Rip Co. Wobby Wabbit Head: If you let them age you, I can’t whisper sweet nothings in your ears anymore.

Emma: That alone is incentive enough.

I’m good at toddler dialogue.

Oliver: I didn’t know you could “win” aging up, but hey. Well done, Bree.

Emma: I’ve still gotten way more dialogue.

Bree: *doesn’t get words when her damn mouth is shut*

Can you focus on the moment please, Ollie?

Oliver: Yes I can! At this moment I am horny.

Brooke: I can fix that.

And then Brooke was a door.

Bree: Close her.

Oliver: Slam her.

Bree: Stranger danger!
Oliver: She’s not a stranger, she’s a townie I used to date.
Bree: Townie downie!

Okay, well. Bree and her sister Emma, as last mentioned a hundred chapters ago, are Cameron and William’s daughters from when she fucked him to spite Andrew.

Bree: Neat.

They’re both gonna be Knowledge Sims.

Emma: Nifty.

Brooke: They can start by knowing how to get the fuck out of the bathroom.

Oliver: ♪ Rainy day people don’t ♪ blah blah forgot the words.

Emma: Am I old enough to die yet?
Chelsea: You’re safe here, Emma.
Emma: Do I want that?


Oliver: Whose cars are these?

What?

Oliver: The townies don’t have driveways.

Oliver: Uh…

FUCK

Meanwhile Virginia’s statue reminds me that Virginia is still dead for some reason.

Brady: If I pushed this onto your shoes, what would you do?

Oliver: I would punch you with my ring.

Margaret: I like violence.

Margaret: I also like Murphies.
Oliver: Too much and too indiscriminately, from what I hear.

Oliver: I’m not complaining.
Margaret: You’re not appealing, either.

Bill: Congrats on not being appealing!
Oliver: Why are you in this now? You’re not a character.


Chelsea: Okay that is TOO MANY WORDS.
Emma: I like it! It’s terrible.

Man, you can always recognize a Sharpe, can’t you.

Emma: I’m wreaking havoc like daddy!

Bree: Maybe you shouldn’t wreak havoc.
Emma: Don’t turn your back on our heritage, Bree!

Bree: Maybe we should be more like Mom.
Chelsea: There’s something on the kitchen counter so I’mma make dinner in your bathroom, ‘kay?

Bree: I take it back.

Emma: I’ve decided to starve.

Bree: Let’s play daddy kills everyone!
Emma: Only if I get to be daddy.

I don’t care if you’re about to pop quints, that is not where that goes!

If someone bursts in right now they might think she’s birthing soup.

Oliver: Dangit, I didn’t get to my favourite part!

♪ Ninetales Ekans OMASTAR ♪

Bree: I sentence you to death for whatever!
Emma: Ow! Right in my due process!

Chelsea: OHHHH THIS ONE IS GONNA BE FAT

Oliver: Focus your chi, everyone!

Brooke: Did I miss the chi focusing sesh?

Chelsea: OH MY GOD MY WAIST IS BACK! Also baby.

Hector Price-Murphy. Although he’s Amin’s kid, so I dunno. Maybe it should be Hector Bigfoot-Murphy?

No.

Not that.

Never that.

Chelsea: Yep, we’re calling him that.
Oliver: Totally. It’s official now.

Chelsea: Alright, take this thing.

Chelsea: I feel another coming on, and I don’t want to stretch my good shirt any longer than I have to.

That’s a weird first thought, as first thoughts go.

Hannah Bigfoot-Murphy. Or should it be Hannah Bigfoot-Price?

Emma: It’s too complicated, we should just kill them.

Hannah: .oO(Feed the others to me.)

Brooke: Can I go now? This isn’t really my thing.

Okay, I think I’ve got a handle on this now.

Harold Bigfoot-Price.

Hector: .oO(Worth our weight in big feet.)

I dunno man, Big Feet are worth quite a lot to me.

Chelsea: We’re never leaving the house now, y’all know that?

Brooke: You could get a robot to take care of them.
Oliver: Go nuts and electrocute them, you mean?
Brooke: Either way you get more free time.

Chelsea: They’re not so bad. At least they can’t talk.

Chelsea: Oh Christ, I forgot. The two older ones can talk now.
Oliver: But! You can tell them to shut up, and they’ll understand!

Chelsea: I’m sure these will understand if I yell loud enough.

Feeling better?

Chelsea: Vain and fat is not a fun combo.

God I hate these things.

Chelsea: I’m having a pork baby next.

Oliver: I’m glad Don’s in jail.
Chelsea: Apropos of…?
Oliver: Apropos of Don being in jail.

Apparently this week I was just ogling Price faces.

And it was a good idea.

Oliver: Isn’t that your mom’s rockstar outfit?
Chelsea: Rock me, Amadeus.

Oliver: Hey, did they ever figure out where in the world Carmen Sandiego was?

Chelsea: She was in our hearts all along.

Chelsea: Also PBS.

Chelsea: Also prison.

Oliver: Thank you for that comprehensive summary.

God is dead.

Hannah: SHUT THE FUCK UUUUUUUP

Hannah: Now you’ve got me doing it.

Oliver: The fuck you yelling about.

Oliver: I hope this is the right shit, I’m too tired to check.

Oliver: If there’s milk in your diaper and talcum in your mouth, choke once for me and once for your mom.

CLUNK

Oliver: You want to be set down gently, you scream quieter.

Oliver: Suck your plastic cucumber.

Hannah: I just cannot even.

Hannah: They’re animals, those two.
Oliver: Shut the fuck up.

Oliver: Babies can’t talk.
Hannah: Okay but mfffff
Oliver: BABIES CAN’T TALK

Oliver: Treat ’em like hostages, the Oliver Murphy parenting method!

Oliver: When they’re older I’ll make ’em fight each other for meals.

Amin: I hear my babies were born.

Who told you?

Amin: I mean I literally heard them. When they were screaming?

You not gonna check in on them?

Amin: Not until I find a buyer.

Oliver: I hate your furry babies.

Chelsea: Oh! BTW! If you impregnated me, I’ll snuff you.

It’s not morning, go the fuck back to bed.

STARS OUT = LIGHTS OUT

Okay well that’s creepy.

Children liking mornings is a really good reason to hate children.

The house in the distance is calling to your nose and chin, Bree.

Ah, what a destiny inheres in your exaggerated genetics.

Meanwhile Chelsea dreams about drooling on a cigar.

Emma: If you convince them you’re malnourished they’ll take you on a trip where you can meet lots of other kids!

Most of my friends are like this.

Brittany: Aw, what is this thing.

Oh, hey, did you know? We found out what happened to that baby you had who got kidnapped.

Chelsea: I’m at max baby saturation right now, thank you.

It’s okay, Michael’s about to abduct one.

Michael: I’m not a creep, man, I’m an asshole.

I see her attitude is contagious.

Then again I can see why you’d want her to rub off on you.

OH HO

Chelsea: Fuck off.

Chelsea: You fuck off too.

Brooke: Okay!

Brooke: Alternatively I could burn your house down.

Oliver: Let’s keep all options on the table.

I must have taken this for the audience, because I certainly didn’t take it for myself.

Oliver: You could have not taken it, for me.

I removed the wall to take a good pic from this angle.

I obviously intended to cut out the grass on the bottom.

That’s why I didn’t.

Because it’s what I wanted back then.

And FUCK ME BACK THEN.

He didn’t do me now any favours.

Next time: nobodies nothinging.

This chapter depicts gameplay from 6 June 2012.

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