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!
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?! ♪
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.
They're both gonna be Knowledge Sims.
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?
Oliver: The townies don't have driveways.
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?
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.
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.
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.
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.
Chelsea: Fuck off.
Chelsea: You fuck off too.
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.