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!
If the images in this chapter are broken, read it at gruglysims.ca instead!
Powering through to the end of a thoroughly shitty year.
Not that I expect 2019 to be fantastic, mind.
The... the "Sharpe Family"? In what sense?
Neil: I like to think of all my prisoners as family members. And all my family members as prisoners!
AAAAAAAAGH TALKING TITLE CARD
Elle: AAAAAAAAGH AAAAAAAAGH AAAAAAAAGH
Bernard: Hahaha funny losers.
Faith: Don said he's sorry for snapping at you.
Don: That's not what I said.
Yvonne: Aww, too slow. Perv.
Don: That's what you think.
Don: I ate so many people.
Cameron: He did! Sorta not really.
Don: I think this was one of them? They all kinda blur together.
Cameron: I miss those days.
Don: I miss all days.
Don: I won't be missing these days, though, assuming they ever end.
Cameron: Maybe you should do something to make them missable.
Yvonne: WHERE'S THE REHABILITATIVE ASPECT
Faith: Not even fictional prisons have that.
Faith: I hope you brought lots of ideas for passing the next FOREVER YEARS.
Yvonne: I'm gonna FIGHT DON.
Faith: I'm gonna fuck Don.
Don: Yes please?
Cameron: YOUR SISTER IS A RAT-FUCK
Don: Get that shit out of my face.
Don: Oh! Shit! I was talking to the big blue wall blob.
Yvonne: Don't talk about my sister that way!
Cameron: I was NOT shipping this!
Cameron: We need to get another dude arrested.
Cameron: Because I'm not going gay for any of these people.
Faith: Human contact! How novel!
Don: You think exterior contact is good...
Cameron: You cannot be serious.
Faith: I seriously think he is.
Bambi: That was worth saying out loud.
Neil: Nothing is worth anything.
You don't know shit. You're only in 2012.
My mother was still alive. And so was democracy.
Don: Maybe Neil will go on a date with you, Cam.
Cameron: Fuck you, Don.
Faith: I volunteer!
Cameron: Not funny.
Cameron: Where are you going?
Don: To where it doesn't smell like feet.
Don: We're making with the out.
Faith: I didn't even know there was a courtyard.
Don: And nobody uses it, because there are no interactable objects to draw them!
Don: Except wait, here's one!
Faith: Objectify me, baby.
Elle: Your man and that chick are smooching.
Cameron: He's not my man, and shut up.
Ally: Morning, Governor!
Neil: That sounds like it should have a British accent attached.
Ally: This thing I'm doing here? I hate that I'm doing it.
Great. What did I do? Try to delete a Sim with their own inventory panel?
Cameron: Great, I get to go through this twice.
Don: We've been given a chance to do things differently!
Cameron: Except only after we're already in jail.
Don: Fate's a bitch.
Don: Gina's a hot bitch!
Gina: I'd argue, but I am in jail for murder.
Elle: I'd murder to get in his pants.
You did murder.
Elle: I'm just saying I'd do it again!
Don't do whatever got the game to crash.
Neil: 'cuz I'm sure I know what that was.
You're about to swoon over Neil.
Ally: That's disgusting and I reject it categorically.
Faith: Wow, there's a courtyard! I think that's what I'm supposed to say.
Don: I'm going off-script.
Faith: Courtyard, more like rapeyard. This place is serious grim.
Cameron: Somebody boost me up to the windows, I wanna see the view. And not escape or anything.
Ally: Mornin' guv'na!
Neil: Don't talk like that, it's demeaning.
Don: This place is like an Xzibit joke about bricks.
Don: I wonder if Xzibit jokes are still current in the non-jail world.
Faith: I heard you like those jokes.
Faith: Skip the ass, go for the tongue.
Don: Aren't you a naughty woman!
Faith: Got my whole family killed, I'll have you know!
Neil: I think my biggest problem with this job is I hate jobs.
Ally: I can totally see why you're my boss.
Prison pant rugs.
That was a good use of my time.
Faith: You should have spent that time on fixing the outfit edges.
Neil: I'm not sure you want to be doing that.
Faith: Oh man this is way better than death!
Bill: I dunno, death is pretty great.
Bill spent this entire chapter naked in the last-meal-room outside of the electr-
Never mind, almost spoiled it.
I hope you guys are enjoying this documentary about someone learning how to Sim over a decade.
Don: I am.
The guards must be horny.
Bambi: But please, Bernard, not in front of the Klingons.
Faith: Alright mister, drop that soap.
Faith: He knew what I meant!
Yeah, you've got the same sense of humour about prison rape, you guys were meant to be.
To be in prison, I mean.
Elle: I've been really thinking about things, and I've decided that my main mistake was not killing all the witnesses to my original crime.
Bambi: Make sure you tell the parole board exactly that.
Bambi: Hey guess what psychopaths.
Bernard: In prison? No way!
Elle: Better than being a sexopath.
Bambi: Emphatically not!
Don: Emfuckally not!
Neil: I'm just saying we could both have made something more of ourselves.
Ally: You were an all-star and a four-star.
Neil: Okay, so really I'm just talking about you.
So this is what's happening in this chapter, huh.
Don: Don't knock it 'til you try it.
Faith: Don't pimp me out to god, please.
Don: Twenny bucks.
Bernard: What's with the hoverhands?
Bambi: It's our matching personal magnetisms, unfortunately.
Gina: Hey there! I hear you got sent to prison! For life!
Yvonne: Hey nobody, thanks.
Don: Welp, that's that. Got forty more years worth of ideas?
Faith: Forty years can contain a lot of prison breaks.
Don: I like the way you fuck! And think.
Nanette: AAAAAAAAGH MY HAIR
Elle: AAAAAAAAGH MY NUDITY
Faith: aaaaaaaagh books
This is the opposite of a show of force.
Don: Heyyyy sugar!
Bambi: Kiss my ass.
Don: Just point it my way, baby!
Don: You are also cute.
Cameron: Fuck off.
Don: Already got my fuck off today, honey.
Don: So anyway I'm not mad you totally fucking sold me out at my trial.
Oh, Don was just thinking about you.
Renée: He was?!
Yeah, and it must have been super confusing for him.
Because he had the want to "Invite Renée over" and he doesn't know a Renée.
Renée: ...oh. Yeah.
Don: I'd still let you play me like a fiddle.
Cameron: Haha, yeah, okay.
Don: By which I mean fiddle with me.
Cameron: Okay. Yes.
Don: By which I mean-
Cameron: YES I GET IT
Cameron: I get it.
Bernard: I want to get it.
Bambi: Then help with the dishes, asshole.
Yvonne: Remembering windows.
Yvonne: Windows were cool.
I like to imagine that chick-
...that chick came all the way up here and then went "oh it's a prison."
Renée: That's what happened, I saw it.
Myrtle: As one might consider a tumour.
Renée: I'm a visitor!
Myrtle: Speaking of tumours...
Renée: Could you tell them I'm here to see Don Macarevich?
Myrtle: I could! Happy to answer your question.
Renée: You're funny.
Myrtle: And you're interrupting my navel-gazing.
Bernard: I'd gaze that navel any day.
Renée: I'm here to see Don.
Bernard: It's not for, like, hours.
Renée: ...no, like, Don. As in the name. As in your prisoner, Don.
Bernard: Ohhhhhh. Are you sure we have one of those?
Don: Feel that foot feel.
Cameron: It's a cold foot feel.
Don: That's what it feels like to be testified against.
Neil: When are we gonna do something about this unspoken thing between us?
Ally: We are doing something about it. And that something is not speaking it.
Bernard: Alright, come on in. Theoretically we have guest facilities.
Bernard: I've never seen them because everybody everywhere pretty much hates these losers.
Ally: Look man, I really respect you. That's not true. You're a giant dickbag and I do not respect you but man that whale penis head of yours is hot.
Neil: Whale penis. Now that's a name I've not heard for a long time. A long time.
Come on, man, who are you kidding.
Past Grugly: Yeah, sorry, you're right.
Bernard: Some fat chick wants to see you.
Don: All fat chicks want to see me.
Don: It's the Rule of Inverse Fat-Chick-Seeing-Wanting.
Bernard: I think she knows you?
Don: As in, I don't want to see them.
Bernard: I think she wants to have sex with you.
Don: I'm just enough of a misogynist for that to be appealing!
Since we apparently need to keep reminding people of this sort of thing: Don is not meant to be sympathetic, or emulated.
Bernard: I can tell she wants to have sex with you because she looks the opposite of how Bambi looks when she does not want to have sex with me.
Cameron: The fuck is any of this.
Renée: Hey baby, wanna participate in a common cliché about prison visits?
Don: ...holy shit, it's... what? How are... You should totally be in jail.
Renée: Yeah, fake identity, it's pretty great.
Don: You're lucky you picked a callback I remembered.
Don: Who gave you the fake identity? Because it's so fake apparently I just met a new person.
Renée: Man, who do you think.
Don: I don't think. I'm in jail.
Renée: You should spend some of your copious free time on conspiracy theories, then.
Renée: Obviously I got my fake identity from the evil organization of evil.
Renée: Does the name Daisy White ring a bell?
Don: Hot TV actress.
Renée: She's actually Cecilia Phelps.
Don: Ugly Sharpe kid.
Renée: That is an outrageously outdated description.
Don: Once an ugly Sharpe kid, always an ugly Sharpe kid.
Don: We done here?
Don: You were right. She wants to fuck.
Bernard: I'll ready the fuckin' chamber!
Bernard: It's monitored.
Renée: Of course it is.
I wouldn't be worried if I were you.
Renée: Oh baby, it's been so long.
Don: Oh baby, I can almost see your old hotness under that comically-hideous nose.
Bernard: It's not actually monitored.
Bernard: I don't suppose you'd let me manually monitor...
Don: You can if you want...
Renée: ...but neither of us have good hygeine.
Bernard: Yeah, I'm probably not into that.
Renée: ♪ Suddenly I see! ♪
Bernard: ♪ This is ♪ not where ♪ I want to be ♪
Next time: another of these times. And the last time of the year!
♪ It's the ♪ last ♪ wonderful time of the year ♪
This chapter depicts gameplay from 14 April 2012.