The Sims – A game designed by Maxis that let you create (or destroy) your wildest fantasy life. And oh boy did I. Things get really dark in this week’s Confession in which I share with you some of the most messed up things I ever did to my poor Plumbob-ed victims.
Did you know that ALL of us have something in common? Yeah, I know for a fact that we’ve all played The Sims at some point and we all bloody enjoyed it. I don’t care about your newest COD Prestige, and I equally don’t care about that sweet solo raid you did last night in one of those obsolete Lich King raids. All I want to know is just how perverse and fucked up you actually PLAYED The Sims.
Kotaku. Reddit. Even the fucking Belfast Telegraph. Everyone has a story to tell and it makes for rib tickling reading. But now it’s my turn. The following list of psychopathic gameplay behaviour stems from a lifetime adoration of Sims title, from Bustin’ Out all the way up to University Life and that shitty Ikea DLC. I’ve seen it all, I’ve done it all, and I’ve probably fucked them all as well. Let’s go.
- I’ve married ALL of my ex’s.
What a sad, sad teenager I was. I really do mean all of my ex’s as well. If at some point in my life I have ever dated, kissed or crushed even MARGINALLY on you, you should be aware that there’s a 98% chance you were later ‘Simified’. I led a fantasy life with you in my perfect ideological, nuclear family unit and you were completely oblivious to every pixelated expectation I put upon you. (Note: This could be why I stumbled through many inadequate relationships…)
One particular incident, with my current long-term romantic victim, occurred when I was pratting about on The Sims 3, by checking that no one was dead and that I was still content with the recent 3 hour redesign I had completed on their mansion. It had totally slipped my mind that this particular family was based on myself and my new relationship status. The man in question, of whom I had only been dating for less than a month, picked this moment to suddenly take an interest in my game only to find out that I had married, reproduced and grown old with a much more aesthetically pleasing version of himself.
I have no earthly reason why we are still romantically linked. I killed that game relationship ages ago. He never fucking spoke to me or the kids. Whenever I switched on Free Will he fucked off down the night clubs. Which brings me on to my next morbid playing style…
- I murder any family that begins to bore me.
It really doesn’t take much to push me over the edge, and when I do I like to be creative. We’ve all killed our Sims by removing the ladder from their innocent swimming leisure time, but I tend to depress or malnourish my Sims until life is just not an option for them anymore. Removal of their free will + empty box rooms + zero humane facilities = slow and tortured death. In fact, it’s become a sort of ritual now; instead of just abandoning said losers and starting a new, more desirable Sim, I try to discover how to remove them totally from the game so I never encounter their disappointing lives with my nice shiny new family.
It’s unfortunate that all my Sims meet this demise, but I get so damn bored with their lifespans and the fuck ups they make as I drag them through their pitiful life that I just lash out and straight up kill them. I’ve even gone so far as to enter cheats that can literally delete Sims mid-gameplay – though this is normally reserved for children who get on my fucking nerves or pets who just piss everywhere. Again, this leads well into my next pattern of behaviour…
- I’ve neglected a disgusting amount of pets.
Unless they train quickly and with the promise of a success career paths, pets can fuck off. I tried making my own perfect real-life little pussycats, but I ended up killing them as they were even more aggravating in the game as they are in real life – and if you met them IRL you’d understand what a statement was is.
It’s a shame, as I was super excited about the Pets expansion when it came out and I went so far as to actually adopt about a million cats with my very first crazy cat lady (based off myself, ofc). Within about an hour of play time (I shit you not) my house was covered in piss and they had trashed all my bloody furniture. I had zero simoleons and my Sim had barely slept for some reason. It was anarchy in that house and the cats ruled everything.
It was with regret that I had to kill not only all the fucking cats now shitting in my kitchen, but the Sim as well to make sure that none of them followed her if I moved on. And no, before you interject, I wasn’t giving those cats to some sort of ‘RSPCA’ type organisation as they were demented and I was doing the population of Sunset Valley a fucking favour by incinerating them all.
- I worked really hard to give one single Sim every negative Moodlet.
This one’s kinda dark. I had crippled this one Sims chances of survival from the off by (ironically) attempting to play with Free Will switched on. He was a goddamn mess. He got fired from every job I got him, he never slept or ate properly and he was a bloody sad-sack when it came to schmoozing the women folk in the area. I ended up despising everything he represented regarding the concept of Free Will and his depressive lifestyle seemed to have knock on effects to other Sims who spoke with him, as he’d only talk about fucking ghosts or toilets. I’d officially had it.
I decided I wouldn’t kill this Sim, so I’d already spared him that fate. Instead, I wanted to see how far I could push this miserable bastard before (hopefully) I felt some remorse. Did you know, there’s approximately 90 negative memories to create/avoid in The Sims 3 (if you have all of the Expansions Packs, anyway)? So not counting any negative aftershocks I could have created in his childhood, I must have had at least 70% of the remaining experiences all burned into this poor sods memory.
From small embarrassments such as pissing himself in public or burning the burgers at a party, all the way to him being abducted by aliens, having enemies and watching animals/friends being purposefully murdered in his presence – I fucked with this guy. In the end I just gave up and left him to his own ridiculous devices. Last I saw him, the miserable wanker was reading a cooking book following the disastrous public cooking debut mentioned earlier.
- I’ve never seen a Sims life through from conception to natural death.
If there was anything in The Sims I was good at, it was making a hot as shit couple and making them have babies. So many babies and so many families were created under my reign of terror, however, very few of these units actually made it past the beginnings of existence. In fact, the kids would be damn lucky to make it to adulthood.
I hated old Sims, even the old NPC Sims. I have 100% never created, aged or played a Sims past their adult life. Using this logic, children barely made it out of school before I decided I was ageist and went for a younger, more youthful model. Aside from the mass slaughtering of annoying Sims, no one I ever created lived long enough to retire from their career driven, Ming vase filled lives. Consumerism is the tits, okay?
- I once trapped the entire cast of True Blood inside a restaurant I built and made them work to death.
I’m genuinely having a hard time trying to place the exact moment in my life I decided that initiating this series of events was a good way to spend my time. It doesn’t matter, because at the end of the day, it fucking happened and I had them all. Sookie, Bill, Eric, Pam, Jason and Tara. I made them all faithfully aesthetic in terms of their face/hair/dress code in addition to their personality traits and romantic interests. How goddamn sad.
So after making them, moving them in a fucking cubbyhole of a house and beginning the Gnome cheat process (in which I could keep them all awake and in perfect moods all day everyday), I started to tirelessly train them in their professions as required for the opening of their restaurant. If you’re a fan of the True Blood series, you can guess here what this restaurant came to be called. It was, of course, Merlotte’s.
I made them pair off and fall in love with WHO I DEEMED WAS PERFECT FOR THEM BASED ON THE TV SHOW AND NOT HOW THE WRITERS DECIDED TO FUCKING DO IT. (Sorry). Once their relationships were solid and they were all 100% skilled in the various areas of cooking, charisma and whatever the fuck else I needed to run a restaurant, it started.
I built the bar, the tables, the kitchen and then moved them all in. They were trapped to work 24 hours a day, 7 days a week until the end of time/my bored and murderous appetite arose. Merlotte’s quickly gained critical praise and attention and it wasn’t long until I was serving a packed restaurant all hours of the day. No one ever asked questions about how the staff never left… or why they never needed to eat or sleep… I tricked the bloody lot of them…
- A fireman failed to extinguish my kitchen/pancake fire, so I married him and burned down his own house with more pancake fires.
This was a fun afternoons work. I forgot that one of the most important skills to train a Sim in was the act of cooking, so when I built a lovely little starter home and chose to celebrate with pancakes, my Sim immediately set alight the oven, the work surfaces, and somehow the fridge. It went downhill rather quickly.
I did however remember to install a fire alarm, so a fireman promptly came to my rescue. He didn’t do a fucking thing. I have no idea why he didn’t get to work, but he could barely get to the building let alone the blazing pancake fire. Once the glitch had taken full effect, he actually stopped trying to reach me at all and chose instead to swoon. This gave me an idea.
I flirted back, with my house still burning to a crisp behind us. We chatted for hours as the surrounding neighbours stopped in horror to watch my house slowly fall to ruin, whilst I remained focused on this fireman and my quest for his heart. Inevitably (as is the case for me IRL as well…) he succumbed to my charisma and we started to date. Once the fire had calmed the fuck down, I built back up a poxy little thing knowing fully well it had one simple purpose: To Kill.
Time meant nothing to this oblivious fireman, as within 24 hours of the blaze he was my fiance and we were desperately in love. He moved in with me and we did the sexy deed. Then I was able to initiate the final and most dastardly part of my plan. Having still not read a cookbook, I began making pancake after pancake for my newly beloved.
He didn’t seem to mind the growing pile of poorly made pancakes being scattered around our minimal and inescapable box house, choosing instead to keep up that swooning he was so good at. Eventually, the great Pancake Fire of Pleasantville began once more, but this time around it claimed its first victim: the twat who couldn’t save my house from a fire the first time around.
I ran out of the door, deleted it and slowly watched as his body was engulfed in flames. I genuinely cackled out loud. It took me hours to put into place, and the payoff was well worth it.
- I farmed my wife for babies.
Quite opposite to the mindless murdering of my previous Confessions, this one involves the creation of life, and a lot of it. I dreamt one day of creating a family of super children who could study their assess off, get the best grades possible and then move into teen life with the world as their oyster and a part time job to help the funding of their existence.
This all started to go to shit around the 3rd baby as I was unable to look after multiple children at once. So instead my goalposts changed and instead I tried to see how many children my wife could squeeze out before Social Services turned up to ruin my fun. With a maximum amount of 8 Sims allowed in one household, that limit was quickly hit before my lust for farming children went way past my wife. Unless my memory has failed me, I believed I was fathering about 20 children in that game at one point, and I don’t think my wife had clocked on because she was too busy feeding the twins and crying over her poor, slave-driven womb.
- I enjoyed decorating my house with erotic paintings.
This is just stupid. I had a pair of Sims that only wanted to shag all the goddamn time. So I let them shag all the goddamn time. But where was the fun for me? Well, the missus was a world renowned painter whenever she wasn’t on her back screaming for her husband’s *cough* tools. So I decided it would be a terrific idea to take hundreds of pictures of them shagging and make her paint them so I could decorate the walls of their house. The house, after painting at least 15 pictures of blurry, pixelated sex scenes, looked fantastic.
That was… until I decided one time to let them ‘Try for a Baby’. You see, I tend to play the Sims with the walls triggered down, so I can only see the floor plan of a room and windows don’t block my field of vision. It wasn’t until many months down the line (after leaving this family and starting another) did I realise how fucked up my child must have been living in that house, by witnessing an encounter that took place when he brought a new friend home from school.
You see, his new friend was a budding artist and fell in love with the decor of my family home. I found myself really shocked to see a children express a love for artistry so young and was happy that my son had found a friend with whom could share his mother’s love of painting with. I triggered the walls back up to see which particular artwork he was adoring at that given second and remembered at that exact moment what I had done to this family the last time I played them many months before – this young children was admiring a painting of his friends dad porking his wife in the hot tub. I was mortified.
Thankfully, these are the only psychopathic memories I can remember for the time being. But Christ, when you put it all together like that I’m a fucking atrocious human being and I should not be left with children or animals. But fuck it, what happens in Pleasantville, will certainly stay in Pleasantville.