The Sharpesvale Chronicles, Chapter 426

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.

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In which there is a couch, and there is casting.

Welcome to 100 Legacy Lane, atop scenic Rich Hill!

We’ve been here before.

It was black and white and Murphy all over.

That’s not a riddle.

This is where Stephen and Abigail moved after leaving #1 Main.

It’s where Oliver, Faith and Yvonne grew up.

It’s cursed, is what I’m saying.

I have cast an additional curse of awesomeness upon it to compensate.

Useful as they are, the Main Street West clone houses sure do get old after a while.


Those benches won’t work.

Past Grugly: They’ll work!

You’ll see.

Wow, diagonal walls!

Look who’s evolving architecturally.

Still stuck on symmetry, though.

I love how bathrooms in fiction always look like such nice, clean places.

My bathroom gives me the heebie-jeebies.

Of course, I have a permanent, mental case of the heebie-jeebies, so it’s probably not the bathroom’s fault.

This is where Yvonne nearly got squashed by a fuck car.

Man! Gettin’ the good lines out of the way early!

(I found that image by searching “Gruglysims caw” on Yahoo. Yay for remembering the dialogue, boo for forgetting which chapter it was in.)

Xavier: Yay for getting a new house?
Ivy: Boo for it sitting in the shadow of a much cooler one.

Ivy: Also boo for this lamp.

Ivy: Why don’t you just shit in my mouth while you’re at it.

Ivy: I’m gonna post it to my ‘gram.

Ivy: These mirrors are so ugly.

That’s how you can tell they’re modern.

Ivy: And they’re arranged aesthetically, but not at all functionally.

That’s how you can tell they’re postmodern.

Ivy: I dropped my glasses and most of my hair down the drain.

Ivy: Luckily I had spares, and scissors.

Elle: There hasn’t been anyone living here since before I was born.

You were born?

Elle: You know what I mean.


Xavier: Welcome to my house!
Elle: Are your parents home?
Xavier: This is my house.
Elle: Uh-huh. Are your parents home?

Xavier: You’re… not bad.
Elle: How ’bout now?
Xavier: Better!

Ivy: These benches don’t work.
Past Grugly:

I didn’t say anything.

Ivy: These chairs don’t work in a different way.

Ivy: Why don’t you stick a rusty fork up my anus, while you’re at it.

Xavier: You need to work some issues out.

Xavier: Let’s see if I can’t fundraise for your therapy.

Ivy: It’s good to have my own home, but I miss having dad around to murder burglars.

Ivy: He murdered them with a sword.

Xavier: I’d say we could hire him as a guard, but these rocks won’t pay those bills.

Jane: Fuckin’ Murphies and their rocks.

Jane: Were you already at the door?
Xavier: I’m waiting for the welcome wagon. I want to take a ride on it!

Xavier: What do you mean, “not a literal wagon”?

Xavier: Your face is burned.
Marco: And you’re ugly.
Xavier: Hey.
Marco: Hey ugly, what’s up?

Ivy: I’ll tell you what’s up! Oh, wait, my genitals don’t work that way.

Marco: I’m having an extra boner just for you, babe.

Ivy: You’re dressed pretty smart. Wanna come help me try on some clothes?
Marco: You mean pick out some clothes?
Ivy: Shit, right! Xavier’s listening.

Marco: On account of being right fucking there, yes.

Ivy: Yeah, he does that.

Marco: You keep tellin’ yourself that, bud.
Xavier: I WILL

Ivy: Relax, Xav. He’s, uh… my uncle.
Xavier: How can I relax when you remind me how poorly my name shortens?!

I hate the way my mind works.

Ivy: Me too.

My mind won’t let me enjoy the chapter I’m working on unless I have a buffer. If I have to do it, and soon, I’m miserable. I just finished the one for the day, and now doing this one’s a lot of fun! What do you hate about how your mind works?

Ivy: No, I was talking about your mind too.

Ivy: This isn’t a date, just so you know.
Marco: Good, I hate dates. Give me a figgy pudding any day.

Ivy: …what?
Marco: Sorry, was that too clever for you?
Ivy: No, it just seemed too clever for you.

Ivy: I need a timeless look. Something that’ll last.
Marco: There are literally none of those in this story. Nobody looks the same now as they’ve always looked. You are doomed to failure.

Ivy: I’m gonna look this way forever just to spite you.


Ivy: Hey, close enough!

Ivy: I’m still alive seven years from now! In motherfuckin’ real-time.
Marco: As someone with experience in these matters, allow me to correct that to “seven years from now, I will be alive.”
Ivy: In motherfuckin-
Marco: YES.

Marco: But “still” almost certainly won’t come into it.

Marco: As someone with experience in these matters, allow me to come into you.

Marco: I mean it is up to you, but I’d recommend it.

Ivy: So apparently-


Ivy: Yeah. So apparently some people use Maxis skintones when they test their textures.

Marco: I was hoping she’d buy that one.

Marco: The colour’s no good. Save, quit, and Body Shop that shit.

What, dude, do you think this is 2020 or something? It’s 2012 and it takes an hour and a half to quit, fire up Body Shop and get back to Neighbourhood Mode again. Fuck you.


Ivy: He said he liked this one! I trust his opinion.
Marco: It’s the only trustworthy thing about me.

Ivy: You must like this look, because it’s making you hot.

Ivy: Check out my rockin’ bod!
Marco: I’d rather see it rock.

Ivy: That wasn’t subtext. That was just… text.

Neila: Oh, sorry, is this YOUR chapter? I thought it was ours.

Marco: The true test of a new outfit is how well it bends when you make out in it.

Marco: You should make out with me.

Ivy: You’re slime.
Marco: But ooze counting?

Ivy: Look at you, mister rule-breaker.
Marco: If you like what I do with grammar, you should see how I cheat with sheets!

Marco: Surely all this ridiculously-good wordplay is worth at least a handjob in a public washroom.
Ivy: Find me a clean one and you’re on.

Ivy: Your hand’s as big as my head.

Ivy: Head fulla burglar hate.

Margaret Wolosenko the Infallibly Good Witch: Look at you. Coupla morons. Wavin’.

Ivy: The weird long-name thinks there’s two of you!
Marco: How can there be, when I can’t get even one drink?

Ivy: You’re a tall glass of alcohol, Marco Whateveryourlastnameis.

Ivy: What is his last name?

You got it.

Ivy: Gosh, so many men to choose from!
Geoffrey: I can offer you a-

Ivy: This one’s got a certain je ne sais mal.
Nick: You want mal? Got your mal right here.

Gerard: No, like this. You do it when you’ve accomplished something with ease.
Nick: Like this?
Gerard: Stop it! You haven’t accomplished anything!
Nick: I’ve learned a new gesture, haven’t I?

Ivy: God, I hope I look good from an aerial perspective.

Nick: Is that why you attached those aerials to your head?

Nick: I’m rich.
Marco: I’m a sex machine!
Andrew: I’m alive again.

Ivy: Did anyone miss you?
Andrew: Judging by the lack of technological progress around here, I’d say so.

Ivy: Nobody likes technological progress anymore, mister. They like smokin’ hot bods.
Andrew: I have a dad bod.
Margaret: No. You have a father bod. And anyway dad bods are on the way out! We ladies like grand-dad bods now.
William: I think I’m too hot for that.

Andrew: …do I know you? You look familiar.
Marco: I’m not your familiar, dude. You take your pervy warlock schtick and shove it.

William: Hey, congrats on being old enough to drink?
Nick: I am? GOD DAMMIT! That took all the fun out of it.

Ivy: You make your own fun.

William and Margaret: VOOOOOO GERBITZ!
William: I didn’t know you went to MNU!
Margaret: I didn’t! That’s a U of C chant!
William: No it isn’t!
Margaret: Yes it is!
William: NO IT ISN’T
Margaret: YES IT IS

Ivy: Can’t a girl just enjoy her chapter without all these interruptions?

Ivy: We should fuck on the dance floor.
Marco: It’s very dirty, though.

Ivy: Luckily, that’s how I fuck.

Marco: I have no idea whose face that is.

Alec Prince the Damned: Oh! Hello. Didn’t see you there.
Ivy: Then how did you know to turn around?
Alec Prince the Damned: My sexy-sense was tingling.

Ivy: You think I’m sexy?
Alec Prince the Damned: No, I mean I’m so sexy I can sense vaginas.

Alec Prince the Damned: On a completely unrelated note, you are sexy.

Alec Prince the Damned: Wanna ditch Foucault over there?
Ivy: I don’t know who that is.
Alec Prince the Damned: The four-eyed jar-head.
Ivy: I don’t know who that is.
Alec Prince the Damned: The pin-striped-

Alec Prince the Damned: Whoops, sorry. I’m… on new medication.

Ivy: You should be on me instead. No! Wait! You should be on bedication. A vacation, on my bed! These were coming fast and furious earlier, I don’t know what changed.

I lost my second wind.

Neila: I lost my virginity! In my mind. Mindginity.

Alec Prince the Damned: Oops, my mortal disguise is flaking off.

Alec Prince the Damned: Hahahaha!
Ivy: Hahahaha.

Alec Prince the Damned: I should warn you, I’m a very dangerous man.
Ivy: Like, sexy dangerous, or…?
Alec Prince the Damned: Depends. Do you find electrocution sexy?

Ivy: Apparently I don’t find it unsexy.

Ivy: I think this is the one!

What about Xavier?

Ivy: He can be the two.

Alec Prince the Damned: Who’s Xavier? Can I kill him?
Ivy: Why would you want to kill him?
Alec Prince the Damned: Maybe I want to kill everyone!

Alec Prince the Damned: Just kidding! I want to kill mostly everyone.

Ivy: Bitches love bad boys.

Alec Prince the Damned: I’m so bad, my name couldn’t escape the blame! Dame.

Lance: oh god oh god

Shiloh Newcastle the Witch: YOU! BACK IN YOUR HOLE!
Ivy: But what about my hole?!

Shiloh Newcastle the Witch: We’re free of you, shitheel! And it’s gonna cost you.

Alec Prince the Damned: I can’t remember any spells right now.

Shiloh Newcastle the Witch: Prince OF the Damned? Where’d the extra word come from?

Alec Prince the Damned: FROM YOUR ASS!
Shiloh Newcastle the Witch: Ew, and you put it in your NAME?!

Alec Prince the Damned: That’s some smokin’ hot wordplay, Milchamah.
Shiloh Newcastle the Witch: CALL ME BY MY REAL NAME! What are you, some untalented, lunatic hack from the philosophy department of the University of Toronto or something?

If you don’t know who that is, please do not look it up.

Shiloh: Hi! I’m starting a support group for people adversely affected by fuckshit over there.
Brooke: I hope my support group for people killed with shovels doesn’t have to compete with you for rental hall space.

Andrew: In my day we waited until we were adults to become main characters.
Ivy: Newsflash, friendo: your day ended when your hair turned white.

Alec Prince the Damned: “Friendo”?
Ivy: I don’t even know.

Joe: Diagnosis: hotness.

Ivy: Dr. Joe is never wrong!

Ivy: Pending the resolution of those malpractice suits.

Ivy: He wore special suits when he did his malpractice.

Ivy: So hey, who was that chick?
Alec Prince the Damned: Just someone I kidnapped.
Ivy: You kidnap chicks?
Alec Prince the Damned: Not in general! On a case-by-case basis.

Ivy: My dad stabbed his wife with a fork.

Ivy: So she forked the neighbour HEY IS YOUR SKULL OKAY

Neila: Looks like it’s more than okay!

Ivy: My dad was Maxis.
Lance: You wear it well, you filthy sub-human.

Neila: She does!

Andrew: Is somebody spouting unscientific racism over there? That’s almost as bad as scientific racism.

Alec Prince the Damned: I’m not an unreasonable dude. People with face templates can live, as long as they don’t have Maxis skintones; at least until after I’ve killed all off all the Maxis skintones.
Shiloh Newcastle the Witch: Yeah, he certainly sounds not unreasonable.

Brooke: These face templates aren’t Maxis, though, they’re custom.
Alec Prince the Damned: Custom face templates are cheating.
Brooke: How are they cheating?
Alec Prince the Damned: They make it look like you’re not all paint-by-numbers clone-faces.
Ivy: You must be tons of fun at parties. Like this one!

Ivy: What.

Ivy: Whatever.

Alec Prince the Damned: That’s all you have to say? “Whatever”?
Ivy: I’m focusing on the doing.

Brooke: She just called that man’s penis a “doing”! It rhymes with “boing.”

Ivy: No man with a dick that big can be all bad! At least seven or eight inches of you is good, is what I’m saying.

Ivy: These ones, down here.

Vanessa: The cameos keep comin’!

Ivy: The we keep comin’.


Vanessa: Behold, my army of the dull!

Alec Prince the Damned: She told you we were gonna keep comin’.

Alec Prince the Damned: And look at us go!

Ivy: I’ve gotta say, as much as driving a car sounds like fun, the threshold of eighteen has a lot more perks than sixteen.

Ivy: What do I get at nineteen?

Nothing. Cigarettes don’t exist.

Thank god.

Ivy: I bet there’s a mod for-



Alec Prince the Damned: You made him thank himself.
Ivy: Thank god for me.

Ivy: Think fast!
Lyndsey: Who’s naked?
Ivy: Think fast!

Lyndsey: IT WAS HER
Ivy: It was ME!

Ivy: All I had to do to secure the chapter was fuck some rando on a couch. Twice.

Ivy: Dude is clearly wearing a person-suit, by the way.

Opal: We all are!
Kenya: Isn’t it a nightmare?!

Alec Prince the Damned: All nightmares pale beside me.
Noelle: Do you think they’ll get married?
Alec Prince the Damned: Except that one.

Ivy: I don’t wanna be pale beside you anymore. I’m gonna go be pale at home.

Next time: beyond the pale.

This chapter depicts gameplay from 3 December 2012.

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