The Sharpesvale Chronicles, Chapter 549

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In which I’m doing it! I’m doing it!

Charity: Time to school these pre-capitalistic plebs.

Charity: Hey! HEY! Opportunity cost’s a-wastin’!

I should clarify what I said before.

I like Charity as a character.

Charity: You don’t have to like capitalism for it to work.

In fact, it helps if you don’t.

Leonard: …this seems like the wrong time of year to be putting in a pond…?

The fuck are you…?

Charity: Abigail managed to encode her university degree into my DNA. I’m accepting all the career signing bonuses, then immediately quitting.

Beatriz Young the Nice Witch: The moment there’s a significant sample size of Abigails, I become the underachiever.

Charity: Wait’ll she makes the Pleasure Sim version, you’ll feel better.

Leonard: Oh god, there’s a Fortune Sim in the house, isn’t there.

There most certainly is.

Charity: Otherwise known as A SIM WHO CARES ABOUT THE HOUSE

Charity: They don’t usually call us that, because it takes too long.

Abigail Young the Unambiguously Neutral Witch: I can’t hardly keep up with you.
Charity: I wouldn’t advise trying.

Charity: Alright, momma needs a less altruistic project.

Beatriz Young the Nice Witch: We’re not mommas. Or I did some truly revolting things, recently.

Leonard: Speaking of truly revolting, I miss my sisters.

Leonard: Oh, hello there. Who are you?

Charity: Oh, hello there! How you are.

Charity: How you are indeed.
Nick: What?
Charity: So true, so true.

Nick: Do I know you?
Charity: You could say you’ve known me.

Charity: But right now I’ve got customers to fuck.

Charity: And what better way to do that than with a rub-and-tug?!

Charity: I’m marking up the tugs considerably.

Oliver: I ain’t gettin’ no aunt-massage.

Charity: Yeah, I’m not really sure I want to give one, either.

Charity: At least not so cheaply.

Oliver: Why would I want something I don’t want just because you’ve doubled the price?!
Charity: Because advertising! Business administration! Economics! Other complete bullshit!

Charity: Let me consult my muse.

Charity: Maybe I should’ve sprung for the plastic muse. These corkboard muses have lousy finger-feel.

Oliver: Have you considered not selling massages?
Charity: Have you considered not being a filthy socialist?!

Oliver: If I’m filthy, you’re part filthy.

Charity: Alright, new plan.

Charity: Welcome to Greta’s Garb! I’m Greta.
Oliver: You’re my aunt Charity.

Charity: Welcome to my emporium!
Oliver: Are you qualified to run this place?
Charity: I went to a clothing store and judged the fuck out of it, so I’d say yes?

Pictured: how I feel about Charity as a subject of writing.

Charity: Pictured: I want to fuck Tucker.


Tucker: That’s one hell of a purchase incentive.

Charity: I went to university for this.
Tucker: Sales?
Charity: Elitism.

Tucker: I went to space university, myself.
Charity: They have university in space?
Tucker: Um, no? It’s on SimEarth? You have to go to space university before they let you go to space, stupid!

Charity: I just noticed your pants. You need to leave.


Charity: Thank you for attending our opening.

Charity: How’s about you and I engage in an interaction involving states of dress and undress?

Charity: Or you could sit on my couch and watch TV, I guess.

Charity: Or we could do the thing I suggested.

Charity: So long as no-one more interesting stops by, of course.
Tucker: Well, of course.

Charity: Aw, bad news.

Tucker: We’re on a date, though.
Charity: That’s true. Alright, spend money on me.

Charity: As in, give money directly to me.

Charity: For goods and services!
Tucker: I don’t want goods and services.

Charity: Do not speak ill of goods and services.

Charity: They make me wet.

Charity: As do you!
Tucker: Am I a good, or a service?
William: If you’re good, maybe she’ll service you.

Tucker: I’ve always thought of myself as good.

Tucker: Oh, hey, I just remembered: I’m actually on an island in the South Pacific.

Tucker: And also I’m married to your niece?

Charity: I’m sorry, I can’t hear you over your money talking.

Charity: You ever hear what every girl’s crazy ’bout?

Charity: It’s something to do with sharpness.
Andrea: I’ve got Sharpeness…

Charity: You’re not supposed to be telling people that.
Andrea: Why?
Charity: Because you’re fucking Sharpes.
Andrea: Yeah, but people expect that kind of shit from us by now.

Andrea: Thanks for looking out for me, though!
Charity: The bill is in the mail.

Charity: God, billing gets me hot.
Tucker: Oh, that’s what’s doing it.

Charity: My first romantic transaction!

Tucker: Only fifty percent ruined by the ambience.

Andrea: Do you think I should get a new pair of boots?
William: Sorry, they don’t introduce separates until TS3.

Andrea: We keep hitting a technological wall with this game.

Well, too bad, because the sequels make me head-desk.

Pictured: asymmetrical commerce.

Andrea: That was the BEST SHIT I’VE EVER HAD!

Tucker: Stop shitting up my date.

William: Mommy’s little plot-hijacker.

Charity: It runs in the family.
Tucker: It had better run.

Tucker: The girl is mine.
William: You can have her. We’re related.
Andrea: He means Charity.
William: Oh well fuck that.
Tucker: I intend to!

Charity: Let Greta fit you out! A new costume for a new era!
William: We’re in a new era?
Charity: We are! He’s suddenly not writing like shit again!

Hey, it was only… about… forty chapters.

I found my muse.

Charity: Plastic or corkboard?
William: I was gonna pay cash, actually.

Charity: ♪ Meta ♪

Charity: Oh my yes.
William: You’re right, the orange Afrikaner look suits me!

Charity: .oO(Was that woman molting?)

Noelle: Go ‘way! I heard there’s awesome shittin’ here.

Charity: Go shit your balloon pants, we’re done for the day.


Next time: Charity will only get you so far.

This chapter depicts gameplay from 6 May 2013.

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