By: Sofia Chassomeris, Interdimensional-Space Traveller

Editor’s note: The Pawn obtained this letter via time travel through a portal gun we discovered in our games closet.

Dear valued constituents,

I write to you at the dawn of the year 3000 to make a very important announcement. I have been in the real estate game for over one thousand and 90 years, and let me tell ya, I’ve seen a lot. Flying cars, space delivery services — they even achieved (with lots of dubiously funded research) a semblance of immortality for those most worthy of preservation! However, never before had I seen such a succinct case of suffering from success before witnessing Elon Musk’s Head in a Jar purchase the last independently-owned property on planet Earth. That smirk immediately dropped once he realized he had bankrupted any and all of his potential human buyers.

And so it is with utmost disappointment that I regret to inform you of my resignation. I was brilliant, can you believe it? Mr. Monopoly: the arbiter of the free market, the monocled old hopeful who’s lived long enough to see the death of capitalism and ownership of private property.

I didn’t think it would happen in my lifetime. Do you know how long it takes to finish a full fucking game of Monopoly? I started this company with dreams of inspiring generations of laborious homeowners and landlords, but none of you can buy a goddamn house, can you? Yeah. Game over. That’s what happens once we have a winner — now every property is practically a hotel with maxed rental fees you have to pay just to breathe on.

“And so it is with utmost disappointment that I regret to inform you of my resignation. I was brilliant, can you believe it? Mr. Monopoly: the arbiter of the free market, the monocled old hopeful who’s lived long enough to see the death of capitalism and ownership of private property.”

If I were a good man, I’d tell you how it happened. But I’m a capitalist, and Monopoly’s biggest selling point has always been that mere participation in the game offers freedoms of monumental proportion. Until the winner eats the entire board, and you’re flat-out broke. Now that it’s actually happened, investors say my business model is “unrealistic” and “unsustainable.” Really? Now you have a problem with longevity? It seems nobody has the instruction manual for how to play Monopoly 2: Post-capitalist Hellscape; we’ll just have to make up the rules as we go.

My only request is that you do not blame me, Mr. Monopoly, for such a disastrous turn of events. Though this outcome can be attributed to a lack of foresight, it is technically not my fault! I am not resigning in defeat (this was an anticipated end), only disappointed that the era of free-market prosperity has finished with such an abrupt and destructive finale. The nice part about Monopoly was always that you didn’t have to deal with the catastrophic economic fallout after winning, you just pack-up and put the box back in the closet for a few years. Of course, I intend to uphold this practice of ignorant bliss despite not being able to afford literally anything on the Musk market.

If there is anything to be learned from capitalism’s grand flourishing and epic demise, it is that there will only ever be one true winner. As a longtime advocate for the free market, it is time for me to resign as a natural progression of my absorption into the greatest single corporate monopoly.

Best,

Mr. Monopoly Mann, MA in uncritical applications of economy, former-CEO of Monopoly Corp. and Affiliated Domains