by Edmund Jorgensen
The highest complement I can pay any form of entertainment is that it is more captivating than SIMS. Speculation is more captivating than SIMS. I guess you have to know me in order to understand the magnitude of that statement, so the short version is that when I play SIMS, I keep track of their personality numbers, their physical traits, their aspirations, skills, and finances in multiple Excel sheets to discover which Townies have dyed their hair, which SIMS will progress rapidly through their chosen careers and who to breed should I ever desire to create the ultimate SIM. Some people have drugs, I have SIMS. Speculation is more captivating than SIMS.
What, besides even more money, is worth giving up ten million dollars? That is the question that faces Andrew when his friend dies and leaves him a stipulation in the will. He can either have 10 million dollars, or he can have a sealed envelope. If he chooses the money, the envelope will be destroyed; if he chooses the envelope, the money will be divided up between several charities. Andrew wants time to think, to go through the three boxes of random paperwork from his friend’s death, the only clues he’s given as to the contents of the envelope, but Andrew’s wife is a little less understanding. After all, Andrew’s friend died of a brain tumor and he liked to play games, sometimes at Andrew’s expense. Who is not to say this is an elaborate joke and the envelope contains nothing of value. She wants him to take the money, but days turn into weeks and Andrew has yet to make a decision.