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Hank had told him to pick out a good board game for the evening, and Connor was determined to select the perfect one. The games cabinet was moderately packed, ranging from some old games to some more recent, but none that had been released in the current decade. Sensing that Hank seemed to prefer older picks, he combed through the boxes until he found something within the parameters. A hefty box, he lifted it in one hand, the pieces inside rattling, before rising to his feet to bring the game back to the living room.
“I believe I have found the perfect game for our evening,” Connor announced as he entered the room, setting it down on the table.
He was not prepared for the look of horror that painted Hank’s face.
“Put—put that away, Connor, put that fuckin’ cursed game away—”
“Cursed?” He picked the game back up in his hands, eyes scanning over the contents. “It doesn’t appear to feature ghosts.”
“Cursed to its very fucking bones… I shoulda exorcised that shit, or just thrown it in the trash.”
“There don’t appear to be any bones inside the box—”
“It’s fucking Monopoly, Connor. People have killed over that game!”
Brow raised, intrigue piqued, Connor placed it slowly back on the table.
Hank skirted away from it, eyes refusing to meet the box. “I ask you to pick out a fun game for a bit of fuckin’… bonding, and you choose war.”
“This is Monopoly, Hank. War, the board game, was in fact in the cupboard, if you’d rather.”
Hank took a deep breath, in and out, before facing the table again. “I guess you haven’t heard the shit they say about Monopoly then.” Upon seeing Connor shake his head, he steepled his fingers and closed his eyes, taking another measured breath. “Alright. Alright, I’ll play you at Monopoly. But don’t come cryin’ to me when I beat your ass at it.”
Connor’s right brow joined the left somewhere up near his hairline. Clearly, Monopoly was a serious mission. And as the android sent by Cyberlife, he always accomplished his mission. At any cost.
The rules were laid out, money was counted and allocated, and the banker was assigned.
“It can’t be you,” Hank declared, “and it can’t be me, so—”
“Sumo.” Connor decided, gesturing from the box of fake bank notes to the saint Bernard napping on the couch beside him. “You’re hired.”
Hank shook his head. “Absolutely fuckin’ not.”Han
“If you’re criticising Sumo’s banking abilities, then—”
“You’re bribing the banker with dog treats, it’s a no from me.”
Connor stuffed the dog biscuits back into his pockets. “Look at how cute he is, Hank. He craves capital.”
Hank looked at the dog and groaned. “Fine… whatever. But Sumo is gonna play by the rules.”
“He can’t read, Hank—” Connor would have continued, but was silenced when Hank flipped him off.
“Let’s just start the damn game.”
And so, Monopoly began. Connor played as the dog, Hank as the car. Properties were purchased, cards were drawn, money was traded for utilities. Crimes were committed.
“Hey—what the fuck, Connor, you just took a fifty out of the banker’s tray.”
“Sumo gave it to me.” Connor said, blinking slowly, patting the dog on the head. “Banker’s rules.”
“It’s against the fucking rules is what it is.”
“Actually, Sumo said there’s—”
“Dogs can’t ta—”
“Sumo said,” Connor continued at a louder volume, “that whoever plays as the dog character piece is allowed an extra fifty.”
Hank had to bite his knuckle not to yell about it ‘still being against the fucking rules’.
“Fine. One extra fifty, and nothing else.”
“Of course. Anything else would be cheating.”
And so the game continued. A fair purchasing of properties, collection of money and tax from landing on the opposition’s properties. A property was eaten.
“Wh—Sumo! Bad dog,” Hank reprimanded, taking the property card from Sumo’s mouth. It was slobbery and chewed to the point it was unreadable.
“Tough luck, Hank,” Connor sympathised, “looks like you just lost a property.”
Hank stared at the wet monopoly card in his hand, and then at Connor, taking in the barely concealed shit-eating smirk.
Oh, so the kid wanted to fight dirty? He was playing with fire.
“So, I rolled a six, alright,” Hank commented as he moved his car piece along the spaces, “one, two, three, four, five—Arrgrghg! OH GOD, FUCK!” he yelled, as he ‘drove’ the car piece into one of Connor’s properties. He made sure to knock the little green houses off the board.
“Hank! My real estate!”
“My bad, kid. Your property is no more. Sucks to suck.”
It went quiet for a moment. Human stared at android, android at human.
Then, in a flurry of movement, Connor picked up the monopoly board, and, with a precise and slow violence, tipped it upside down. The car was the first to fall, then the dog, then all the little houses. The cards scattered; the paper money flew into the air. He then set the board down and sat beside Sumo.
“A natural disaster destroyed the city,” he lamented, “a truly sad turn of events, Hank. It looks like no one wins.”
Hank stared at the mess on the floor, then suddenly the urge to laugh overtook him and he couldn’t supress it. Nor could he stop, not for quite a long time. Connor joined in, and Sumo looked at them with tired eyes before jumping off the couch in search of a quieter place to nap.
Eventually, they calmed and looked over the carnage of the monopoly board.
“No one ever wins at Monopoly, Con. But you know what? I think I like your rules.”