The only way I can explain those ugly Sims is by telling a story.
Ron Humble and the Bungling Buffoons.
It was a dark and stormy afternoon, the skies black, the sidewalks wet. Up in his fancy, penthouse office, Ron Humble cracked his knuckles before pressing the button on his intercom. "Send them in," he ordered, not waiting for his secretary to speak.
The door opened and Steve and Thomas walked in. As the two men walked nervously up the long carpet that lead to his desk, Ron folded his hands, prayer style and rested his head on the fingertips. He said nothing, as the two men approached him. Even when they were standing in front of him, he said nothing for a good thirty seconds. The smell of nervous sweat began to fill the room. Inwardly, Ron smiled.
"Sit," he finally said, and yes, it was an order, not a request. Both men sat down obediently.
"I-I heard you wanted to see us?" Thomas asked, his voice cracking nervously.
Ron gave Thomas a long, hard, look before he finally spoke. "Yes. I did. You may recall when I offered to turn my head in the other direction when you constantly violated our EULA, that I said some day, you would have to return the favor. That day has arrived."
Steve's eyes went wide. Even though he knew this day would come, part of him hoped, nay,
dreamed it never would. He swallowed nervously, but said nothing.
"What-what can we do for you?" Thomas managed to say, his voice sounding unusually high and girlish.
"As you know, the Sims 3 is coming out soon." Ron began, his gaze going from one man to the next. "And as you may also know, while we will still continue to pretend you are not violating the EULA, we too, would like to... offer our customers .... certain
benefits in the form of custom content. A few for free, then we will begin to charge."
"Yes," Steve said, still wondering where this was going. Surely Ron didn't think that they were going to protest this.
"So, one might even say that we are now becoming competitors," Ron continued, his voice sounding more and more like Marlon Brando's in The Godfather.
"Yes, but I'm sure people will be happy to pay for items from your store, as well as paying for subscriptions to our site," Thomas said, eager to kiss some ass. "In fact, I'll bet you'll even get more customers than we will, after all you're the off-"
"Yes, I'm sure we will," Ron interrupted him. "But... I need to have a little extra... insurance, to make sure this is true."
"What do you want us to do?" Steve bravely managed to ask, wanting to get this over with.
"This should not be difficult for you," Ron said, taking his own time to tell them. "You're already, without my help, almost doing the job anyway. At least with Sims 2. I merely want you to take it up a notch."
"Take what up a notch?" Thomas asked, licking his lips. This room seemed as dry as a desert to him.
"Let me put my cards on the table," Ron said, taking a sip of water from the crystal glass in front of him. "I will continue to look the other way when you violate the EULA. Moreso, I will even continue to look the other way when you run around implying that TSR has a special relationship with EA. And I'll even continue to have Drea, on occasion, post another silly statement that looks as if it is supporting you, while it's actually just a bunch of nothing, designed to keep the sheep in line. But in return I need this one little thing..."
"What?" Steve said, louder than he intended. "What is it? Tell us! Anything you want, we'll do it! Once again, despite telling himself never again, he found himself cracking under Ron's gaze. Looking over at Thomas though, he noticed a large wet spot on his jeans, which told Steve he wasn't alone in feeling the pressure. "Please, just tell us."
"Everything you make for Sims 3," Ron said, pretending to not even notice the nervousness.
"Yes," the both said, breathlessly.
"it must be-"
Again, in unison, "Yes," to urge him on.
"-much uglier than anything we offer on the exchange or in the store." Ron finally said. "Significantly uglier. I want to see Sims that look deformed and so ugly that their parents will have to tie a pork chop around their neck to get the family dog to play with them."
Thomas and Steve looked at each other, and slowly exhaled in nervous relief. "Oh that," Steve said.
"No problem," Thomas interrupted Steve hardly knowing he was doing it.
Ron was slightly puzzled at their instant relief and despite himself, said, "Aren't you worried that people will refuse to pay for inferior rubbish?"
Steve shook his head. "Nah, they've been doing it for years anyway."
PMBD
Author