Welcome to the Clover County Chronicles, an ongoing neighbourhood story in The Sims 2!
Warning: this journal may contain uncensored nudity, violence, profanity and sexual themes.
Updates Monday, Wednesday, and Friday every week!
If the images in this chapter are broken, read it at gruglysims.ca instead!
Pine Valley: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25A, 25B, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, 40, 41, 42, 43, 44, 45, 46, 47, 48, 49, 50, 51, 52, 53, 54, 55, 56, 57, 58, 59, 60, 61, 62, 63, 64, 65, 66, 67, 68, 69, 70, 71, 72, 73, 74, 75, 76, 77, 78, 79, 80, 81, 82, 83, 84, 85, 86, 87, 88, 89, 90, 91, 92, 93, 94, 95, 96, 97, 98, 99, 100.
Clover County: 101, 102, 103, 104, 105, 106, 107, 108, 109, 110, 111, 112, 113, 114, 115, 116, 117, 118 119, 120. 121, 122, 123, 124, 125, 126, 127, 128, 129, 130, 131, 132, 133, 134, 135, 136, 137, 138, 139, 140, 141, 142, 143, 144, 145, 146, 147, 148, 149, 150, 151, 152, 153, 154, 155, 156, 157, 158, 159, 160, 161, 162, 163, 164, 165, 166, 167, 168, 169, 170, 171, 172, 173, 174, 175, 176, 177, 178, 179.
Interludes: 1, 2, 3. April Fools' Day: 2014, 2014 Comparison, 2015.
Pretty soon I'm gonna have to truncate that Previous Chapters shit or I won't have room for the actual images.
I can't believe that fit on the sidebar.
Margaret: Sorry Stephen, Stewart's not able to come to the phone.
Stephen: Why would I want to talk to that dweeb, honeyblonde?
So... you're all puffy.
Ever gonna... stop it?
Thanks a lot, guys.
I go to all the trouble of making a dead robot shrine, and NOW THERE'S NO DEAD ROBOT.
I'll put a shitter there instead.
Margaret: Yes, Stephen. Your son and I have had sex. No I will not give you details!
Margaret: Hang on, I've got some stupid family business to take care of.
Shadow: .oO(Apparently that was load-bearing fluff.)
You don't look that upset.
Margaret: Hey, not my cat.
You don't look that upset.
Stewart: I was just working on the shower. I've been past insane for hours.
Gerard: I was gonna steal your newspaper, but this looks way more interesting.
Stewart: NO PLEASE NOT SHADOW
Gerard: Take him instead!
Stewart: Let's not get crazy here...
Stewart: Okay, get 'er done.
You've been a good cat, Shadow.
Shadow: .oO(How would you know? You never paid me any attention.)
That's what you call a good cat owner.
The Grim Reaper: SHADOW. YOUR NAME IS SHADOW? THAT'S THE CAT EQUIVALENT OF "JOHN."
Shadow: .oO(Even that's being generous. It's more like the cat equivalent of "Hey, cat.")
Stewart: I'LL MISS YOU SO MUCH
Margaret: How old was he?
Stewart: I dunno, I didn't pay him much attention.
Stewart: But you still have to be nice to me now.
Margaret: Man, fuck you, cat.
Stewart: Alright, you guys have fun, some of us have shit to do.
Shadow: .oO(Thanks for the food occasionally, scratchpad.)
How does one get a cat to take the next step, anyway?
The Grim Reaper: YOU KNOW HOW CATS CAN JUMP REALLY HIGH?
The Grim Reaper: DON'T TRY THIS AT HOME.
The Grim Reaper: THANKS FOR THE CAT. CATS ARE NICE.
What a lovely pet cemetery.
Please make sure to spell the sign right.
Whatcha got in the bag? IS IT A DEAD CAT?
Stewart: Smells like it.
Stewart: In Shadow's honour, I'll clean the bed that was a fucking mess while he was alive.
I'm not sure "honour" is quite the right word for that.
Stewart: And now, to flush his poops.
Rosemarie: Cat's dead, eh? Won't need this anymore.
Margaret: Technically true.
Margaret: Hey, Ms. Young!
Abigail: Stewart! You're being burgled!
Abigail: She took the doorbell!
Stewart: DON'T COME IN
Abigail: Congratulations on adulthood, Stewart! Two out of eight ain't good.
Stewart: Our family tree is a Dutch Elm.
Abigail: Lookin' good! For a given definition! Said definition being "Like Stewart."
Stewart: Still the nicest thing you've ever said to me.
Stewart: I hear parents and their children do this together sometimes.
Abigail: Can't imagine why.
Abigail: I guess it has some merit as a physics demonstration.
Stewart: I keep throwing the ball and then having it in my hands again without you throwing it back. How are you doing that?
Abigail: Quantum superposition, bitch.
♪ Breaking Bad theme ♪
Stewart: Science rules.
Abigail: Nah, we're talking quantum here. As far as fiction and quantum physics go, science = no rules.
Abigail: I'm basically a goddess.
Shane: Can I have a pony?
Abigail: You're thinking Santa Claus.
Abigail: What's your name?
Sir Wally: Sir Wally the Grey, good lady.
Abigail: Who called you that?
Sir Wally: Some asshole.
Sir Wally: Open one of those windows, would you? I can't fucking breathe over here.
Abigail: How will you learn if I just do it for you?
Sir Wally: I'M A FUCKING PARROT. That's the only way I learn!
Stewart: My Dead Cat: a poem by Stewart Murphy.
Stewart: WHY IS MY CAT DEAD
Abigail: That's my boy! According to mostly reliable sources.
Abigail: I wonder why he has turkey in here. It's not Thanksgiving yet!
Abigail: ...this is last year's.
Abigail: THIS IS LAST YEAR'S TOO
Stewart: Why My Cat Should Come Back to Life: a poem by Stewart Murphy.
Stewart: I don't have one of those resurrecto thingums.
Stewart: I don't like my cat being dead.
No WAY are you displacing that much mass.
Gretchen: I SAW IT FIRST
Gretchen: Fine. Go ahead. Put it back in. THINK INSIDE THE BOX, PLEB.
Abigail: Get out of here before I disintegrate you.
THE CAN FIRST
Abigail: I'm a slave to my programming.
Stewart: I'm just fat.
Abigail: Must have been the pampered upbriging we gave you. According to mostly reliable sources.
Stewart: Yeah! Badass! Respect the abs, past mom! Present mom's a lost cause.
Margaret: She is kind of a bitch.
Abigail: I'm sorry I wasn't there for you when you were young, Stewart, but look at it this way: I was there for Kyle and Oliver and Franklin, and Faith and Yvonne, and look how that turned out.
Stewart: Correlation does not imply causation, Mrs. Scientist.
Abigail: He's definitely my kid.
Margaret: I'm surprised you noticed.
Margaret: If you go to the supermarket, could you pick us up some more of these painted wood shavings?
Sir Wally: Aw yeah that shit is gold woman!
Margaret: How come you haven't done anything good lately.
Abigail: EXPLAIN. QUICKLY.
Margaret: It's just that you're a famous scientist and all, known worldwide for saving us all from the zombie plague, and creating robots and stuff, and yet here you are in skinny jeans with a bleach-blonde hairdo living with a douchebag and adopting papergirls.
Abigail: Have you ever heard the story of the Little Engine That Could?
Margaret: We made this joke already.
Abigail: No we didn't. Do you know what that story's about? It's about how you can overcome any obstacle if you think you can.
Abigail: THERE'S NO STORY WITH NO OBSTACLE.
Stewart: Something doesn't feel quite SHIT
Stewart: Please go home before I do something stupid.
Abigail: I'm not a time-traveller, Stewart.
Margaret: You're the only pet left now, Sir Wally. The only sponge to soak up our affections.
Sir Wally: Pass.
Stewart: How'd you get along with mom?
Margaret: I honestly don't know.
Margaret: I think she's feeling a little lost without an entire world to save.
Stewart: She needs an evil twin to foil. They could sustain each other indefinitely.
Stewart: Speaking of sustenance...
Stewart: FUCK ME LIKE MY FAMILY LOVES ME
Stewart: ...I'm not sure what that meant.
Margaret: I am.
Margaret: I'm your family now.
Stewart: Please don't die, then.
Stewart: My family always dies.
Margaret: Bet I live longer than you.
Stewart: I'll take that bet, 'cuz what do I have to lose.
Sir Wally: Just so we're clear, you're both committed to feeding me, right?
Stewart: Margaret? You left the handset on the big tiled receiver again.
Stewart: I WANT A GARDENER
Gardener: Do you have a garden?
Stewart: DOESN'T MATTER
Stewart: I'M A HOMEOWNER AND I WANT A GARDENER
Margaret: Ew, no homeowner.
Celeste Wade: It's good to be wanted. Creepy, but good.
Stewart: Hey WEDNESDAY! What's up?
WEDNESDAY: Regretting my decisions.
Margaret: We should commiserate.
Elle: WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN DOING YOU BASTARD
What have you NOT been doing, you BITCH?
Stewart: You are way out of my league, you know that?
Margaret: I like to play it safe.
WEDNESDAY: Are you gonna hang up, or...?
Stewart: I'm glad everything worked out.
Margaret: I'll bet you are.
Stewart: A mime, though? Really?
Next mime: ...
Next TIME: love and friendship for the minor characters.
Hey, you gotta make a few eggs to break 'em.