Welcome to the Pine Valley Chronicles, an ongoing neighbourhood story in The Sims 2!
Warning: this journal may contain uncensored nudity, violence, profanity and sexual themes.
Isn’t it time you read a story with a little more bite to it?
Well, they say the devil is in the details. Here are the details:
…and here is the devil!
Gruglysims: What the fuck do you want?
Gruglysims: Oh! Right! Hi! Welcome to my Sims 2 story, the Pine Valley Chronicles. It’s a third-person, Legacy-style look at the growth of a sleepy community into a zombie-infested, serial-killer-rich hellhole.
Gruglysims: You want death? We got death.
The Grim Reaper: LEAVE ME OUT OF THIS.
Gruglysims: You want nasty, mean-spirited, sarcastic humour? It’s covered.
Lucas: Please, let me die.
Gruglysims: Logs can’t talk!
Gruglysims: This is the story of Pine Valley, from its inception to what will likely be its fiery demise at some point in the far-flung future. It starts off slow, but when it picks up, shit gets real.
Gruglysims: Now get out of my face and go read the damn thing.
There. You’ve got the details, and the devil. So… welcome to hell!
Looks so peaceful from above, doesn’t it?
Pine Valley and all of its subneighbourhoods are scratch-built. Anywhere we go on this wild and deadly ride will be somewhere I made.
It’s not all awesome, but hey… at least it’s all mine.
Here we are, brand-spankin’ new and ready for doom and drama. The central trailer park is where our batch of hopeless Townies theoretically reside; our founders live under those lovely green plumbobs to the west, which is at the top right. Speaking of the founders…
Each one boasts a different Aspiration, a different eye colour, and even a different hair colour (assuming you consider “bald” a colour). Their homes are all clones, as befits a suburb, with minor variations in content depending on their personality and helpfully colour-coded inside to match their clothes. Because conformity can only take you so far.
Want a closer look? No? Well, too bad. Fuck you. This is my rodeo.
You might have noticed that all six of these Sims are white people. Well, maybe Victoria’s not, but albinism’s a bitch. I noticed the lack of diversity immediately after I started playing, and decided to correct it with the second generation. Until then, enjoy watching six white people acting like buffoons, as white people do.
Thankfully, these six Sims are just the beginning. Once their children are ready to take over, a second wave of six will join them. Once their children are of age… you get the idea.
I let my Sims tell me how to play; I try to fulfill their Wants, rather than forcing them to act the way I want them to. We’ll see if that results in a richer playing (and storytelling) experience, or a scorched and bloody crater.
My money’s on the latter.
Pine Valley is a western suburb of Centreborough, the district seat of Clover County and the capital of Wallawallock State, SimNation. All of my subneighbourhoods are scratch-built, terrain, lots and all, and I’m particularly proud of the downtown because it’s consistently been awesome enough to choke my computers halfway to death.
Beyond the borders of Centreborough, to the north, is Mount Noble University. It’s not open yet; once the firstborn kids of the neighbourhood reach higher learnin’ age, we’ll see what it has to offer. Mostly death and sorrow. You’ll see.
At this early point, the rest of Clover County is pretty much empty. We’ll be coming back here eventually, though. Sixty-five years from now.
I might be dead of old age before you see that.
Well, here we are at #1 to #13 Main Street West. Enjoy the symmetry while it lasts.
We play each household for one day, then repeat; that way everyone ages at the same rate. Stephen’s up first; it’s probably too much to ask for move-in day to be spectacularly interesting, but hey. Hope springs eternal.
A word about my early screenshots: suck. Two words about my early screenshots: they suck. I get much better later on, but since at this point I never intended to share the story with anyone, you’re just going to have to suffer through it. It hurts me way more than it hurts you, I promise.
In the year of our valley number one…
Stephen: Hey there, buddy! I’m Stephen Murphy. What’s your name?
Paperboy: Not-Getting-Raped-By-A-Stranger. It’s Native SimAmerican.
And now you know what kind of journal this is.
Anyway, his name is Don Macarevich. Remember that. There will be a test.
This is Emmy Lillard. She will not be on the test.
Emmy: What? Why will I not be on the test? I should totally be on the test!
You want to know why you won’t be on the test?
Emmy: I think I’m entitled to it.
You want to know why you won’t be on the test?
Emmy: I want the truth!
The truth is you’re boring and you never become important.
Emmy: Oh. Fair enough.
Stephen: Hi! I’m a freaking gorgeous redhead. I mean, you’re a freaking gorgeous redhead. I mean, hello. I’m so sorry. Please say something.
Ember: When you’re doing so well?
Ember: Hold on to your wallet, bald dude. This boy here’s a master of seduction.
Neil: Hi. I’m Neil. We won’t be interacting.
Stephen: I can see that, yes.
Abigail: Nice to meet you. My name’s Abigail.
Stephen: Yeah 🙂
Abigail: I’ll eventually need this hand back.
Stephen: Yeah 🙂
Abigail: We should play poker sometime.
Stephen: Yeah 🙂
Felicia Day: Interest you in a virility potion, dearie?
Stephen: Were you even watching just now? I think I creamed my pants.
An auspicious beginning, to be sure.
Abigail: I don’t mean to criticize, but if your idea of “romantic” is “eating together like we’re fifty and have already ruined each other’s lives” then I’m not sure I have enough to work with here.
Stephen: How about dancing? Is dancing romantic?
Abigail: Nothing is romantic when your walls and carpet are the colour of pus.
Stephen: I don’t care how snuggly you are, I don’t have to take that from you. You’re wearing plaid. You shouldn’t even be real.
Abigail: You’ll be dreaming about my plaid tonight, mousse man.
Stephen: Are your eyes purple?
Abigail: Do they look purple?
Abigail: Well, that is how colour works, so I suppose they are. Another belt notch for the scientific method!
This is what EAxis thinks first kisses are like. The rest of us know better.
Abigail: The hearts are a lie. It’s like I’m kissing a wooden board.
Abigail: I hope you don’t think this means I likmmpph. Mmph. Mmph!
Stephen: The power of tickly beard compels you!
So… aren’t you cold?
Ember: What? When I’m this hot?!
Ember: See, using a nightgown as casualwear means I’m ready to sleep over at your house at any time.
Stephen: Hee hee!
Ember: I have similar reasons for not wearing any underwear.
Jealous much, Stephen?
Stephen: Hmm? I really want to talk to Bradley, but Ember’s in the way.
Ember: Don’t look now, but somebody bleached your hair.
Victoria: No, I’m an albino.
Ember: I know that, I was providing you with a more socially-acceptable excuse. You filthy albino.
Victoria: Says the filthy ginger. Is it true you people feel pain more keenly?
Ember: Try me, beanpole.
Ember: What happened to his face? I thought this sort of thing was supposed to be impossible.
I did my best, but I guess the fug will out.
You know, he’s dating Abigail.
Ember: Dating, not dead.
Stephen: Why are we hovering like this?
Ember: He takes fucking terrible pictures, that’s why.
Look, I already copped to it. Leave me alone.
I’d be grinning, too.
Neil and Bradley. Neil’s the one in the blue and grey, if you’re already lost. I can’t hold your damn hands forever.
Neil: Tell me straight: can I get a lot of money for your body parts?
Victoria: I have a genetic condition. What’s your excuse? Aren’t you supposed to be a jock, or something?
Neil: My skin is sensitive, okay? Fuck.
Neil: I’ll be honest, I don’t see it happening with you. The boycut is a big turnoff.
Caryl Fuchs: I can change my hair!
Neil: But then I’d have to comment on your face, and neither of us wants that.
Neil: Is that a Maxis skintone? Yikes. I don’t swing that way.
Neil: Man, this neighbourhood is like Doogie’s Discount Dullards.
This is Melanie Lillard. Remember that for later.
Melanie: What? Why? Do I become rich? Do I become famous? Do all love me, and despair?
Abigail: I can’t bring myself to touch your hand.
Bradley: That’s probably for the best.
Abigail: Awesome, a lizard. And me without a lounge.
Abigail: You can have either of these dudes, I won’t mind.
Victoria: Gee, that’s white of you.
Abigail: Did you just make an albino joke?
Victoria: If you can’t make fun of yourself, who can you make fun of?
Abigail: That dude in the purple suit with the stupid haircut, for starters.
Victoria: It is a really stupid haircut, isn’t it?
Abigail: Oh god. He’s looking at me, isn’t he?
You want that I should smite him?
Abigail: What, and get lizard juice all over my carpet?
Victoria: Why did you invite them in?
Abigail: Because it’s not supposed to be an unwelcome wagon.
When I started this game, I imagined all my Sims congregating here like they were on Cheers or something.
They decided they’d rather become murderers and zombies instead.
I don’t think Cheers was big on that.
I could be wrong.
Bradley: Good air, this.
Ember: Very light.
I heard you shouldn’t trust anyone who kisses with their eyes open.
Ember: I trust his penis, and that’s all I really need.
That’s right, we have penises all up in this bitch. Lots of penises. Deal with it.
Bradley proves that anything Stephen can do, he can do better. For a given definition of “better.”
…or, for a generally-accepted definition of “better.”
Ember: Do you believe in soul mates, Bradley?
Bradley: What? Fuck no.
Ember: Oh, thank god.
Bradley: So, pink.
Bradley: Wouldn’t have figured you for a girly girl.
Ember: Wouldn’t have figured you for a colour bigot.
Bradley: Is that a thing?
Ember: It can be. This is the first chapter, we can start setting up running jokes.
Bradley: I’m thinking we should set up funny running jokes.
Ember: I’m thinking that’s an oxymoron.
Bradley: I feel like we’ve been making out forever.
Ember: He takes a lot more pictures when people are making out.
Bradley: Yeah, what the fuck, dude?
I KNOW MY AUDIENCE.
Ember: Oh… oh… ONE OF TWENTY!
Bradley: Huh? What?
Ember: Ungh… it’s your new… nickname.
Bradley: Not… suspicious… at all…
Ember: I think I just found my new One True Hobby!
Bradley: Wanna do it again?
Ember: I do! Can you invite Neil over for me? I need to take a shower.
Bradley: I meant… with me.
Ember: I know, but it seemed pointless to argue.
Ember: Fine, you can stay the night, but any longer and I’ll have to start charging you room and board.
Bradley: Can we at least have sex again in the morning?
Ember: Five minutes max. Any longer and I’ll have to start charging you vagina room and vagina board. For your penis.
You look waaayyy too content and innocent for a woman who’s asking me to line up twenty dudes for her to fuck.
Ember: Twenty is just a milestone, mind you. Don’t feel you need to stop if you’re on a roll.
Ember = hot. Works on multiple levels.
Sweet holy Christ.
And I’m an atheist.
Ember: Don’t think I can’t feel you sneaking it in down there.
Bradley: I’d be pretty upset if you couldn’t, honestly.
Neil: Hey! We’re pleased to meet you. Who’s “we”? Look down.
Neil: Hey! How’m I hanging?
Finally, a receptive audience.
Here we see the rare and marvelous “establishing shot” in what should be its natural environment.
You go, girl!
To the clinic.
In case you’re wondering, yeah… there’s a mod for that somewhere.
Neil: Why do we have to pretend to cuddle?
Ember: Because WooHoo is a nested interaction.
Neil: Hey, I have an idea!
Ember: Is it sex?
Neil: It is sex!
Ember: You’re a genius!
Ember: You look like a whale’s penis when you’re naked.
Neil: I guess you have a whale fetish?
Ember: Don’t be ridiculous. Nobody has a whale fetish.
Neil: You’d think that maybe whales might.
Ember: Nah, they despise themselves. And they get off on self-loathing.
Neil: Fucking whales.
Ember: Hatefucking whales.
Ember: Christ, I can feel it poking my ribs. Do you need a license to carry that thing concealed in your pants?
Ember: Seriously though, let’s get on with it. If I have to stare at a shaved gorilla, I at least want to be having an orgasm while it happens.
Neil: Pass me the anal lube!
Ember: I shall call you Number Two.
Neil: How about a nickname that’s less suggestive of feces?
Ember: Picky bastard, aren’t you?
Neil: Do you want to talk about our feelings?
Ember: Why can’t you be one of those dudes who just falls asleep?
Ember: Sleep tight, my snoogly little supervillain. Sleep tight.
I call this piece “Adorable in Monochrome.”
Apparently they went on a date?
Abigail: You really did suck at taking-
PICTURES CAN’T TALK.
Ember can pull it off. You can’t.
Bradley: Sultry >:(
Ember: Sure, honey. Whatever you say.
Stephen: So I… I guess… I suppose you’re… probably wondering… I bet you don’t… you probably want to know why… what we’re doing…
Abigail: I know where this is going. I’m just wondering how many extra words it will take you to get there.
Stephen: I got you… this…
Abigail: Oh my gosh! It’s what I always wanted! A purple box!
Stephen: Do you have to make things so difficult?
Abigail: No, it’s entirely by choice.
Abigail: It’s lovely, Stephen.
Stephen: Yeah 🙂
Abigail: You have to actually ask me, though.
Stephen: Yeah 🙂
Abigail: You are completely without hope.
Stephen: Yeah 🙂
I should charge you people for this.
Ember: It’s rude to stare, you know.
No. It’s rude to look like that and expect people not to stare.
Abigail is busy getting down with her funky self.
Whilst Victoria is busy not being Abigail.
That’s the first chapter over and done with. But the Pine Valley Chronicles stretch ahead pretty much into infinity, so if you’re at all intrigued, you’d better get crackin’. The next chapter has more wanton banging, a marriage, a honeymoon, and a top hat. Those are all related. As for the future, well, I can’t promise you a rose garden, but I can promise you axe murderers, secret agents, and a zombie apocalypse. So who needs roses, really? All they’ve got are pricks, and I’ve got tons of those for you too.
See you down the road.
Comments are always welcome on any entry, no matter its age, and all comments will likely be responded to.
You’ve been warned!