In what seemed like an inevitable turn of events due to the recent housing crisis, Uncle Pennybags, America’s favorite entrepeneur has announced that he has been forced to drastically reduce the cost of living at his various housing developments.
Familiar to some as “the Monopoly Guy,” Pennybags is well known for owning a vast array of properties that includes spots at the posh Boardwalk resort as well as lower-income housing on Baltic Ave. For years America has been delighted by Pennybags’ antics and miserly moneymaking schemes. “I remember this one time,” says previous Boardwalk owner, Carl Perth, “he purposely went to jail so he wouldn’t have to pay rent on my property. Then, before I knew it, I was paying two grand for a stay at his hotel in Marvin Gardens. Old bastard cleaned me right out!”
But the days of bank errors in his favor and second place cash awards from Beauty contests have all but dried up for Pennybags. “It used to be so simple,” says Pennybags. “Back when I started this business it was easy. Buy a property and charge anyone who happened upon it. But now the feds are up my ass demanding I fill out gobs of paperwork that talk about adjustable-fixed rate mortgages and home equity loans. What the hell is that? I had enough trouble when I had to occasionally calculate the assessments for street repairs on every house and hotel I owned.”
But Pennybags’ troubles haven’t ended there. In addition to a drastic reduction of tenants, Pennybags has also been hit with a wave of taxes. “There used to be two taxes I had to worry about. Income Tax and Property Tax,” claims Pennybags. “But back then there were ways to get around those. I could go, sometimes what seemed like forever, avoiding those taxes. Now every other place I land has some sort of tax I’m required to pay. Did you know it’s now 250 dollar parking?”
In this crippled market fewer and fewer people are taking a chance and the community chest is almost empty. Among other personal tragedies, Pennybags has recently been forced to sell his trademark open top silver convertible. “In retrospect, I might have brought this on myself,” says Pennybags. “I couldn’t just be happy with the iron, the cannon, and the horseback rider. I had to have more so I added the steamboat and began buying up properties in space and under the sea. At the height of my empire I was brazen enough to identify myself with just a big bag of gold. But look at me now. I ride around in a thimble and my Scottie dog is long dead.”
“I remember when I could get an easy 2500 bucks for a stay at Park Place,” laments Pennybags. “Now I’m lucky if they’ll pay me 200 clams. I’ve been forced to sell of two of my railroads as well as the Electric Company just to make ends meat. I’ll tell you, this economy is really taking the fun out of a monopoly.”
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