The thing about life is that sometimes you have to sacrifice three-fourths of it just so you can spend the remaining one-fourth doing the things you actually like.
I suppose it’s no longer surprising that I have control issues, which is why The Sims is my favourite game. It just indulges my God Complex, I guess.
The current version, Sims 3, is way better than its previous incarnations, which is wonderful. I can’t tell you how much time I’ve wasted knocking on random neighbours’ doors. I’ve also had one of my teenage Sims steal books from the library so I don’t have to buy new ones.
But perhaps my favourite thing to do with Sims is kill them. I once slow-murdered a Sim then begged Death to spare her. Just because I wanted to see if I could create a zombie. She came back normal (Death’s kind of a pushover) so I wasted no time murdering her again.
Some remarkable ways I’ve killed my Sims:
- – Starvation
- – Sleep deprivation
- – Boredom (by depleting the fun bar)
- – Trapped (meaning I paused the game then built four walls exactly around the Sim)
- – Drowning (I made the Sim get into the pool and swim, then I removed all means of getting out of the pool)
- – Burning (I’ve lost a couple Sims to “accidents”)
- – Heartbreak (I made my Sim discover her husband’s affair while she was pregnant)
I haven’t had time to play the game these last few months, but I think I want to add a few more notches to my body count.