Fred was one of three adopted children of Howard, a chubby, rigorously logical Sim with absolutely no romantic ability. As a young adult, Howard frankly assessed his odds of having a family through dating and marriage and decided to start adopting instead. And I have to say that he wasn’t a bad father: played many games of chess with his eldest, Lily, teaching her logic; spent time tutoring his younger two, Fred and Dandelion. He made a much better parent than his half-sister Kumquat, who left her daughter Rose to grow up more or less dependent on various maids and babysitters.
But one day in his early teens, Fred had a mishap: he tried to take a bath when already extremely tired. This led to a strange, locked-in cycle: he kept passing out from exhaustion, then resuming his bath, then passing out again… and he never seemed to finish either task. Eventually he also needed to use the bathroom and get something to eat, but these other needs couldn’t overpower the bath/passing out cycle. I tried various things to snap him out of it — gave him different instructions, tried to cancel some of his orders, sent Dandelion in there to talk to him (and, I hoped, rescue him). No good. After a solid day or so of bathing, Fred started to starve to death, and I reconciled myself to his doom. I did throw Rose a birthday party, hoping that that would at least catch his attention — Sims seem to come running from all over when there’s birthday cake to eat — but instead there was just the rather ghoulish spectacle of the family and friends partying down while upstairs Fred scrubbed and splashed away his last three hours, his starvation clock ticking away.
But then… miracle! The grim deadline came and went. Fred was now officially dead (his only remaining task being “Expire”, his starvation clock counted all the way down) — but he went on bathing! I had a new idea, a pleasingly gothic idea. I got out the build tools and bricked Fred’s bathtub away so that none of the rest of the household would see him. He could go on bathing eternally in there, I figured, but everyone else’s life would go on.
Alas, that bricking up turned out to be all that was needed to snap Fred back to awareness. He got out of the tub and died in his tiny, airless, lightless enclosure. I had to sledgehammer a hole in the new brick wall so that he could be found by his relatives and laid to rest properly.
Howard was devastated. A team of local scientists sent an offer: they would let Howard see Fred again, if Howard brought Fred’s remains to the lab. In the dead of the night, Howard crept out of the house with the coffer containing Fred. The procedure went ahead. The scientists said it was a failure, but Fred’s ghost materialized and began hanging around the house, with all his old goals and skills still working. Except for the transparency and the creepy eyes, the guy’s as good as new.
The first thing Revived Fred did was have a big meal.