Flitt Legacy Chapter Six: Expiration Date


The events of this chapter were undoubtedly the most stressful I’ve ever played.

Whatcha doin’, Penelope?



This spot is really great, too–it’s close to the house, as well as containing some expensive fish for Penelope to sell.

Oh, hi, Iqbal! How old are you again?

“Ninety days, as of today!”

…Oh. You do know that means you could die any day now, right?

“Hmm… I did not!”


Abigail, it’s 9 PM! Otherwise known as the Flitts’ bedtime! Why are you visiting now?

“Sorry, Abigail, but it’s too late to chat right now!”

“Oh, well. Bye!”

What? Iqbal, why are you getting up? It’s midnight!

…Oh, no.

“I can’t feel my torso.”

Oh, no, no, no!

“It would appear I have died.”

Really? You didn’t even manage one day past ninety? And now you’re dead?

Uh, Penelope, don’t look behind you.

“Why not?”



“Mom! What’s going? And why is the Grim Reaper here, wearing a baseball cap?”

So apparently this is what my Grimmy looks like.

I mean, what?

Penelope, are you smiling?


“Okay, I am, but it’s not my fault! My face is stuck like this!”


“Waaah! Dad!”

At least her sons are mourning properly.

Amidst the crying, Iqbal and the Grimster head out to the living room for… some reason.

“Oh, please, don’t kill me! I don’t want to die!”

“Sorry, buddy, but you’ve already been cremated.”

“But I–wait, what?”

Sorry, Iqbal, but he speaks the truth.

“Oh, man, my husband’s dead! Now what?”

“I know! Bed!”

Okay, so I made her go to sleep–she’s notthatheartless.

“This poster seems a lot sadder, now.”

Tell me about it.

To store Iqbal’s remains (and to make room for any future deaths, if I don’t move the graves elsewhere), I build a small graveyard.

Here lies Iqbal Flitt. He had four sons, once had a unibrow, and never completed his lifetime wish.

You’ll be missed.

*Sims’ remains take the form of gravestones outside and urns inside, hence the presence of both for Iqbal.

Wait, Penelope, did you leave that plate on the table? You never do that! What’s going on?

Oh boy, someone’s looking determined.

“Wilmer Nosecondname Flitt! I know your father is dead, but that is no reason to booby-trap the couch!”

Did Wilmer really do that?

“What? Oh, yeah, I guess I might’ve tried to sorta maybe tamper with the couch, just a little bit.”

I guess he did.


“I can’t get in the house when the door’s there!”


“This sucks! I’m leaving!”

I–but–I don’t–

The heck?

“Sigh… only by gardening can I forget the void in my soul.”


Would you like to mourn Iqbal’s grave?



Okay, that’s enough. Off to fishing!

Curiously, someone else is there, too!

If she weren’t too old (and I didn’t have other plans, which no I won’t tell you what they are), she’d actually be spouse material. The big lips would certainly be interesting to put into the gene pool.


“Wahaaah, Daaaaad!”

“Dad would’ve helped me with this if he were alive…”

Um, don’t be too sure about that.



“Dad’s dead!”

Yeah, and you will be too if you don’t put out the fire!

“Take that, fire!”

“Good job putting out the fire before I got here!”

Yeah, some help you were.

“I almost died today, Dad, just like you!”

Well, you weren’t actually in much danger, and Iqbal died of old age, not burning…

Well, I guess that’s as good a place to do your homework as any.

“Grah, the sink’s broken!”

Stupid thing can’t stay fixed for more than a day, can it?

“Hmm, let’s check on the–oh my god, the waffles are on fire!”


Penelope, now is not the time for mourning!

“Aaaah! Didn’t this happen just yesterday?! And why is the sink broken?”

“Eek! My butt’s on fire!”

No no no no! Wilmer, put out the fire on your mother!

Ms. Firefighter, running into the fire isn’t a very effective way of putting it out.

Wilmer! Get off the freaking cell phone and save your mother’s life!

“Hey, did this wall look like that yesterday?”

Thank goodness for the firefighter or Penelope’d be dead.

“Oi, I’m not dead!”

“Yaaay! I’m not dead!”

Leave it to Penelope to clap and cheer after nearly burning to death.

To make matters worse, this all happened before school, so the boys had to leave hungry and miserable.


“Yeah, I’d like to order a pizza…”

I am not letting the Flitts cook for a bit. I refuse to go through that again.

“Take that, sink! And that!”

How’s the pizza?


As her original plants are beginning to die, Penelope starts a new part of the garden. She’s currently got about 500 simoleans’ worth of produce, which is pretty awesome.

Penelope, I told you to make autumn salad, not sing karaoke with a bowl stuck to your hand.

Whatever, it’s the end of the chapter anyway.


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