The Sims might look like a pleasant game where you just pretend to play house, but don’t let that fool you. Things can be very dark depending on how you play it.
Yesterday, The Sims players on Reddit got together to share their cruelest stories, and boy, are they something else. There are tales of torture, of incest, of murder. Turns out, things can get out of hand when you can order people to do whatever you want!
Here are some of the most entertaining, hilarious, and disturbing tales that people shared.
Dealing With Burglary
lifesnotperfect‘s stuff kept getting stolen — so they made things personal:
I had a Sim whose house kept getting broken into.
The thing is, you can tell who the burglars are in Sims 3.
So I made my Sim attract the burglar, creating a close bond with them and finally proposing to have them move in.
As soon as they moved in, I created a basement where the burglar was kept and a door at the top of the stairs that was only accessible by my main Sim. I made my Sim become very aggressive towards the burglar. Fighting, arguing, insulting them to the point of tears. I’d always get my main Sim to make hotdogs, leave it on the kitchen counter till they rotted then force the burglar to eat them since I had control over them as well once they moved in.
Would only feed them when the hunger meter was in the absolute red, and they did not have access to windows, showers, toilet or any basic comforts like beds and chairs.
The burglar finally hit a really old age and was probably close to death, having lived half his life in the dark basement. I decided to have my main Sim throw him a birthday party. Invited his family and friends and had a cake and glorious food.
I assumed control of the burglar and let him have a shower, sleep in the bed of highest comfort and even get a really nice suit for his birthday and eat a really exquisite meal, and even visit the park. Things were really looking up for him and his happiness was through the roof. He’d finally been released from the basement hell he thought he’d rot in.
On the day of his birthday, his family and friends show up in the party room I made. There was a nice big cake, music was pumping, everyone was happy, especially the burglar. It was cold and rainy outside (seasons expansion bitch!), but what did it matter because the party room was fitted with… A fireplace. Cue animation of him turning old. Everyone claps and congratulates him.
That’s when my main Sim walks out of the party room and the door to the room disappears.
Then there’s suddenly a carpet near the fireplace. Some people need to leave to pee, but there’s no door. More and more fireplaces suddenly appear, each with their own carpet. I build a mezzanine and get the burglar Sim to go upstairs where he has a view of all his family and friends below. Delete the stairs so he has no way to get down. Then, it happens. A fireplace finally lights up the carpet and the room is now quickly catching on fire, filling with smoke, the sound of the burglars family and friends screaming, suffering, dying. He goes into a frenzied panic as death shows up and takes his loved ones away. The stairs reappear and he goes downstairs, only to suffer the same fate as everyone else he’d known.
Don’t fuck with my Sim.
I will end you in the most horrid of ways.
chironomidae has a classic story of what happened after a pool ladder disappeared:
A thriving family of five is living in their brand new, beautiful two story house. It’s a sweltering summer day, so Dad says “Hey everyone, let’s go for a swim in our new pool!” Everyone changes into their new swimsuits and jumps in. Everyone except for Diane, the oldest daughter. She’d rather stay inside and chat online with boys.
The family swims in their new pool, laughing, splashing, having a great time. Mum does a cannon ball. Things are great.
“Dad, I’m hungry,” says Tommy, the youngest.
“Hmm,” replies Dad, “We have been swimming an awfully long time. Alright folks, let’s hop out and I’ll make us some Goopy Carbonara!”
The kids cheer, and Dad heads towards the ladder to get out.
“Well, that’s odd,” he says. “Could’ve sworn the ladder was right here.” He looks around, panic starting to swell in his chest. The ladder is gone.
“Dad?” asks little Tommy.
“I… I don’t know what’s happening,” replies Dad. “It will be ok, just stay calm and keep swimming in circles. The ladder is sure to turn up sooner or later.”
They swim, frantically looking for the ladder. On and on they swim, searching, panicking. They’re screaming now, but Diane can’t hear them over her rock music.
Hours and hours pass. The youngest, Billy, is the first to go. As the strength finally leaves his body, he sinks to the bottom. His body disappears, and a tombstone appears next to the pool.
Tommy and Mum follow soon thereafter. Dad’s soul is crushed. What started as such a happy day has now become a tragedy beyond measure. If only there had been some way to get out of the pool without the ladder… but it was too late for that now. He paddles his last and his tombstone appears next to his family’s. The pool is silent.
And now, the part of my story that gets a little bit sad.
The next morning, Diane comes down from her room. “Mum? Dad?” she calls into the quiet house. Nothing.
She checks the bedrooms, the living room, the basement. Nothing. She checks out front, still nothing. Then she walks out back and sees the graves.
Reality hits her like a ton of bricks. She sinks to her knees, and begins to cry. She cries until her sides ache, until she feels like she can barely breathe. What happened here? Why is her whole family dead? Who did this?
She continues to cry and cry and cry, until realistically she should be out of tears but they still keep coming.
Eventually another feeling takes over; a rumbling in her stomach brings her away from her world of sorrow and back into the real world. She hasn’t eaten since yesterday; best get something quick, so she can resume her mourning.
Unfortunately, she never learned how to cook. Not a problem, she’ll just order a pizza. She calls the delivery place, and they tell her the pizza will be there in 30 minutes. Great, she thinks, that gives me plenty of time to mourn.
She returns to the side of the pool and reopens the faucet of her heart. Her tears drip into the pool, slightly altering its PH balance but that’s unimportant. What is important is that she became so engrossed in her mourning that she didn’t hear the doorbell ring when her pizza arrived half an hour later.
Hours pass and her pizza is left rotting on the front porch. Her hunger once again brings her out of her stupor, and she renters the house to order another pizza. They tell her 30 minutes. Great, she thinks, that gives me plenty of time to mourn.
Hours pass. Days pass. The cycle continues, and the ever-growing pile of rotten pizza in front of the brand new house is buzzing with flies.
Diane is still mourning. Her body is emaciated, her stomach is bloated and distended as she enters the final stage of starvation. She hangs up the phone. 30 minutes. I’ll have so much time to mourn, she thinks. So much time…
She crawls back outside to be with the graves of her family. She curls up next to her father’s grave, and the last breath leaves her body in a long, steady sigh. Her twig-like body is still, and disappears into the ether. Her grave stone appears right next to the others.
It’s true that I watched this all happen. I could have saved her. I could have broken the cycle. But like a documentary film crew following a lost lion cub, it was imperative I did nothing; for if we do not let nature take its course, how can we ever truly understand it?
… OK so yeah, selling the pool ladder was my bad, but after that nature had to take its course.
Casanova Goes Too Far
dat_was_me_tho‘s approach to “dating” is an intense one:
I had my Sim impregnate every female (adult) Sim in the game. He had a bunch of kids he never visited.
All the men hated him, and the women eventually hated him because he was constantly cheating. Whenever the younger female Sims became “of age,” my Sim would impregnate them, too.
After a few generations, the entire town was full of half-siblings, which made them not want to mate together. They slowly died.
Meeting Your Children
iamtight has a similar story, only with a twist ending:
I wanted to see how many children I could have out of wedlock and still be an absent father. I would strike up conversations with every woman on the street, invite them home, seduce them, and ignore them. Rinse, repeat. Eventually my sims “family tree ” grew incredibly large with children I had never met. I think I got to around 40 kids or so. This was the Sims 3, so you could walk around downtown and hang out with your neighbours. Eventually, my Sims little black children started popping up all over town, easily recognisable in a game that has predominantly white Sims. Every time I saw a black kid, I would run away to avoid meeting them. They would chase me down the street with “action events” like “tell dad about birthday” or “talk about school.” Obviously I had to nope right out of there as quick as possible in order to maintain my status as the anonymous biological father of over half of Riverview’s children.
So one day im doing my thing as usual- I see a fine looking woman on the footpath. “Can’t wait to impregnate her and leave” I sadistically think to myself. This is my normal routine, of course. But something was wrong. No matter how much I talked to her, the “flirty” options would never appear. What the hell!! Is she really the first girl to not be in to me?
And then it hit me.
This woman I’m trying to seduce is my full grown daughter who I’ve never met. Hence why the romantic dialogue was not available.
I know its just a game, but I think somehow I’m going to hell for this.
Evie19 tells us about Bob, who is the worst:
I was playing this weird PS2 version of the sims 2 when I was 8. I had a perfect nuclear family, the husband and wife had good jobs and the house they built was expensive yet tasteful. The children got good grades and were happy. All was well.
Eventually, the family became rich enough that they needed more room and I decided to build them a new, beautiful house. I spent a good two hours on making this fucking house perfect. It had an indoor pool and everything. But I was only 8 and I had forgotten the most important goddamn thing to buy when you make a house.
When you move, neighbours from other blocks will come over to greet you. I wasn’t watching very carefully, but one of my sims must have greeted him because suddenly a bald man in a green shirt was in my house. Bob.
Bob didn’t speak to anybody. Bob walked up the first set of stairs and make a beeline to the kitchen. Bob immediately started a fire. Usually when a fire starts it’s ok because you have an alarm which notifies the fire department, except I forgot to buy the alarm. Usually when a fire starts, the sims will run into the room where it is and start freaking out or trying to extinguish it.
Not Bob. Bob just left. Bob fucking walked away with no emotion, leaving my family to scream and freak out in the kitchen. The mother and the father were both killed in the blaze, and the children were taken away by social services because their parents were dead. They couldn’t call for help because I’d also forgotten to buy a phone.
I watched my favourite family burn and vowed that as long as I lived there would be no safe place for Bob. Every time I created a new neighbourhood he would respawn, always in the same shitty house without friends or family. I have killed Bob in every way available to the game. He has drowned, starved, been killed by aliens and struck by lightning. Every time I started a new game, I’d go and kill Bob first. Nobody else ever came in and burned my house down, or even used my kitchen. Only Bob.
Bob is deceased in the more recent games. I like to think that I had something to do with it.
May you never rest, Bob.
RoaneF tells us how he tricked people into loving them:
I started a cult in my basement. Had a very charismatic man living upstairs who would go around town, meet and befriend people, then bring them by to his house. They thought they were coming over for a date. When they got there he’d take them downstairs, lead them in to a small cell with a toilet, bed, shower, and fridge, small table, and sink then he’d lock the door so that only himself and the cult leader could open it.
The cult leader was a rather large man with tiger facepaint, who was also very charismatic. He would wander through the basement, visiting the cells of these people. It would take weeks, but they started warming up to him. Eventually they would fall in love with him. Once they invited him in to their bed, their cell door was unlocked and they were welcomed in to the main room with all the other cult members, where they formed a band, skinny dipped pretty much all the time, and learned to cook for the hostages who had not yet converted.
Then one day the guy upstairs fired up the grill and burned the entire house down. All the cult members fled to their original homes, their families seemingly accepting them without any question.
DackNeDolo won’t just take the nicest house on the map. They will also take everything you love along with it:
I was always too lazy to actually build my own home from scratch and so whenever I started a new file, my immediate goal was to move into the nicest house already on the map. Well I scoped it out, and a nice couple lived there. So, naturally, I:
Had an affair with the lady of the house
convinced her to divorce her husband and stay in the house
moved into the house
knocked her up for good measure
divorced her and kicked her out of the house
It was a nice house.
Making A Graveyard
BrianWantsTruth has a very DIY approach to making church:
I wanted to make a church with a full, complete graveyard. So I built a small, simple structure moved in a family of 8, get them all inside, remove the door, fill with fire. Yay, 8 new tombstones!
Repeat like 9 times, and you’ve got a full graveyard of tombstones. Then I built the church and moved in a priest to live there and tend to the grounds.
Unfortunately for the priest the grounds had been tainted by the dark rituals of the past and several dozen ghosts would materialise every night. Tormented by the crowds of specters, he himself died three days later due to never being able to sleep.
BrianWantsTruth also has a very strict approach to making art:
My prison filled with slave-artists was pretty grim. Everyone got a single cell, bed, toilet, sink, artist easel. There was a warden that lived above them on the ground level (all the cells are underground of course), who cooked for them, but they could only eat if they were turning out sellable art.
Most of them went insane and died.
funmenjorities found out their dog was a jerk in the worst way possible:
In Makin’ Magic I had a brilliant dog called AJ who was loved by the whole family. He never had an off day and brought sheer joy to his owners. Decided to train my wizardry and get the spell that allowed you to turn pets into humans, so AJ could be even more a part of the family.
He turned out to be the biggest fucking assbag as a person and was abusive to his family, so we had to take care of him. I built a monolithic tomb, and trapped him inside. The family stood out front playing music to him as he slowly starved. They bought a new dog and played with it happily outside his eternal resting place to torture his trapped soul. Eventually a dragon burnt down the house and killed them all.
Rakonas wanted their son to be artistic:
I would train my son to be a good enough painter to do screenshot paintings. I then forced him to paint me naked or having sex with his mother/other women. I hung the paintings everywhere.