Boxcars (6)

"Boxcars." Baggs said. "The boy rolled Boxcars!" The old guy stood up from his chair, his face contorted in disbelief.

Steven saw this as his cue: "Yep. Good ole bloody fuckin boxcars! Yes, Jason has the ability to roll a fucking twelve. Now let us go you piece of shit pervert!"

The room fell quiet, but "pervert" remained echoing in the chamber. The men backed away from the board and look at me and Steven. Now, I'll admit. I think I pissed myself a little bit. These guys were staring at us the same way a starving butcher stares at a hog. The way a zombie would stare at a defenseless fucking baby. The way a pedophile would stare at -- well, you get the idea, right?

"St. Charles, Baltic, take care of our guest's friend." Mr. Baggs said, almost underneath his breath. He sat in his chair and dusted the lapels on his suit as two of his cronies rose. Mr. Baltic and Mr. St. Charles reached into their suit jackets and pulled out identical knives: they were as crooked as the men's teeth. The began to move toward us.

Steven couldn't see what was about to happen, since he was tied behind me. Luckily for him though, I screamed enough for the both of us. "No! What the fuck do you think you're doing?! It was just a fucking joke! It's a goddamned game! What the hell is wrong with you!?"

The two men passed me, to get to Steven. I could feel their knives working, tearing, ripping behind me. Baltic and St. Charles cut his ropes, and grabbed his arms. Steven kicked the chair he was sitting in to the floor. I could hear him struggling with the men behind me; I could only watch the men in front of me and the board before us. Mr. Baggs writhed in his seat with delight.

The struggle ended with a loud slam -- a deafening metal-on-steel collision. I could hear one of the two men behind me locking the door. Steven's cries for help could barely be heard through the steel door.

I'm guessing that the room he was locked in was a lot like this one that you and I are in: pitch black, silent, and humid as fucking Georgia. They're not trying to kill us though. That, I know. They didn't kill Steven then. They won't kill us now. So much for wishful thinking -- right?

Now, where was I?

There I sat, bound to a chair, facing eight deranged men. I did what any reasonable man would do:

I prayed to God that Steven rolled doubles or had a Get Out Of Jail Free Card.

Boxcars (5)

When i woke up Steven and me were tied up in chairs at this huge freakin' table. Then in comes this old man that looks like the Monopoly guy. like off the cover of the game. Everything right down to the monocle. Also he speaks a lot like James Lipton... I hate James Lipton.

He explains his name is "Mr. Baggs", he's disappointed that it had to come to this because i was being "difficult" and that he's the head of "The Gentleman's Society of Unconventional Recreation". In other words... he's a late 50 something year old man who had plastic surgery to look more like the Monopoly guy, runs a multi billion dollar secret society of rich old insane men who love board games too much, has an affinity for theft, kidnapping, and other illegal activities, but he thinks that I'M difficult to deal with.

Well he gives me an offer: Beat Mr. Gardens at a game of Monopoly and I'm hired, lose and suddenly my parents will have a hard time proving they had a son in the first place. When Steven asks what about him Baggs only says "You pray he wins. He only got that offer because I'm a nice fellow who likes a competitive game." Honestly, I didn't like the idea of being "hired" but i really, really, really did not like the idea of disappearing from every database on earth and likely disappearing from the earth itself because i crossed the Monopoly guy's biggest fan.

So we have a table set up, Steven stays tied up in his chair and Mr. Baggs sits next to him in another and i take my seat at the table and take out my old faithful battleship piece (I've kept it in my pocket since i was a kid... it's a good luck charm i guess) and out comes Mr. Marvin S. Gardens... and Mr. Marvin S. Gardens... and Mr. Marvin S. Gardens ... and you get the picture... suddenly this guy is one of seven identical brothers, well i thought he was... turns out that the recruitment officers all have to dress and groom the same way... something about the psychological effect it has creeping out whoever they play against... It works. They all sit down around me. They all smell of doctor's offices...

At this point Mr. Baggs (who's full name i can only assume is Douche Baggs) is doing the evil mastermind laugh from his chair in the back of the room and sipping down wine that's likely older than I am. He finally lets out "Okay boys! let's see a game!"

We start rolling for the turn order... 7, 10, 3, 5, 8, 6, and then the original Marvin Gardens... i think at least... he's the one that i get the most pissed at when i look at them so that's something... rolls 11 and smiles.

I roll 12 and mentally picture myself kicking him in the taint.

Boxcars (4)

And so when I went downstairs to the lobby, it was no surprise; that Marvin Gardens guy was there. He was leaned up against the wall, smacking on his chewing gum, trying to look like shady tough shit. When I approached him, he gave me another broken ass smile.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" I yelled at him, not dropping my pace. I was practically running at this guy. "I don't know who the fuck you think you are, but I'm not going to play by your fucking games anymore." I raised my fist -- I was going to hit this dude in the face.

And that's when it hit me.

Well, actually that's when someone hit me. In the back of the head.

The lights went out.

And our hero slept.

Boxcars (3)

The thing about the card was it didnt have any contact info on it. No number, no email, no address, no fax, just his name. At first I was thinking "well... that's a huge typo" but then i noticed something... my wallet was missing.

That seedy sportscoat wearing douchebag... took my wallet... then i paused and felt my pants a bit and it hit me... he took my phone and keys too. At any moment i expected him to come back and ask if i had a girlfriend so he could take her too.

Then it hit me. This guy was sending a message.

Monopoly is all about being aware of what someone wants and then taking it before they can so they have to bargin with you for it. He knew i wanted my precious little life and everything enjoyable in it. So in one motion he took a few of the more important things I have and he left because he was about to take some more from me. As soon as i figured this out i knew i had to get home and quick. I was positive my family was safe after all i didn't care about them half as much as i cared about... and i got home ran up the stairs into my room... under the bed... and that bastard took them. He took my porn.

That. was. fucking. it.

I just thought to myself: "when i see this guy next... his ass is mine. i will wreck him i will absolutely thrash him into oblivion." all that crap.

Steven came in the door, he's slower than me by abit... i must have been raging in my room for about 10 minutes before he calmed me down and told me that asshat was downstairs waiting on me.

I popped my Knuckles... i knew what he wanted. He'd get it.

Boxcars (2)

But while you're here, I guess you have enough time for me to tell my story. Fuck, if you're here, then time is about all you do have. So, where do I begin? Umm.

So I had this friend named Steven. Steven was my best friend through high school -- a few years later, he basically became my pimp. If I am the Mike Tyson of monopoly, then that motherfucker is Don King. Steven had a way with words. Really.

And by the way, I've never bitten anyone's ear off over a game of monopoly. Actually though,

Nevermind. I'm getting too ahead of myself already.

This all started in Central Park. In New York, of course. Steven stood on a bench, with his hands cupped around his mouth, shouting at everyone walking by. He was trying to get another game started. That's the way we would do things -- he would bait people into playing me for cash, and before they could Pass Go four times, the round was over. They'd give me the money. Rinse and repeat. We didn't make a ton of cash out of it, but it was a great way to spend weekends. It beats working at a fucking Sbarro's.

And one Saturday, this guy walks up to me. He didn't want to play or anything though. He was in a suit, he had a briefcase. He looked like a total douchebag actually. But he stood next to me, and he didn't say anything until I looked up at him. When I did, he gave some broken-ass smile, and through a hollow, raspy voice, he said "I've heard a great deal about you, Jason." He handed me a business card, I took it, and he left. Well, I think he left. I looked at the business card, and when I looked up, he was gone. It was like a shitty noir movie. Anyways, I couldn't help but laugh at the card.

And before I tell you what the card said his name was, I want to make this clear: what you've heard about it is bullshit. If you own that space on the board, you will not automatically win. I don't know who made that shit up.

The card read:

Marvin S. Gardens
Recruitment Manager

Boxcars

What's up? you like monopoly? i sure as hell do. in fact I'd venture I'm the best monopoly player ever. You know what makes you a great monopoly player? you don't. don't try. I can see it in your face. you don't have what it takes. Don't feel bad. Not many people do. The world of competitive monopoly takes guys like you and wrecks them.

Oh yeah competitive monopoly. It's a big thing in Japan dude. Old CEOs of Japanese companies get bored with nothing to do so they play monopoly... i kid you not. You don't believe me? Ask yourself this... have you ever seen a rich old Japanese man? no? well let me describe one for you: a 70 something year old Asian with a taste for fine sake, underage girls, and games. All kinds. idk it's in their blood or something. Shit's weird one time i beat a guy and won his daughter... he was all "Jason-san you are most impressive! please take my first born as your love slave!" and i was all "no way dude not my thing" and he was all... well you get the picture.

The point is that I play a lot of monopoly and I don't lose. It's what pays for my college you know. They fly me off to Japan or Germany or wherever these creepy old men are... and I play against them or someone they hired to beat me. It's all overseen by some uber secret society nonsense so i don't have to worry about anyone like putting a hit on me for making them a little less rich and insane, so that's cool.