• "Pigs" are actually naked, shaved townsfolk crawling around on all fours squealing like piggies. Still good eatin', though.
• The Haunted Mansion has two mysterious poofs.
• There is no mechanism to determine which aristocrat loses his or her nose to syphilis; but then I'm probably confusing this with The Cankers of Burgundy.
I dunno. It hits me like Carcassonne with dice, but not really dice since there's no bell curve and you can adjust the pips up or down with workers. So it's really just a genteel eggshell-walkin' Carc where everyone engages in lonely parallel play like a bunch of four-year-olds at the sand table.
Here's an example of the heated player interaction that can happen:
Player A: [thinking] Man, I can't wait to pick chickens.
Player B: [picks chickens]
Player A: Goddammit!
Also, is "shipping pink" a euphemism for something unsavory?*
This was one of the better games at Grandma's house—my brother and I used to get a big kick out of selling our kids to the poorhouse at the end... Why the hell did they get rid of that in the new versions?
"Shut up and eat yer gruel, squealing fruit of my loins! I'm late for the yacht races!"
UPDATE: Long ago, while playing an early printing with my kids, I figured I'd teach them a valuable lesson about gambling—and inject some excitement into the game for me—by irresponsibly throwing the maximum amount of money down on the wheel every turn. (Un)fortunately my numbers hit almost every time and I ended up the winner by a massive margin.
Me: Uh, so you kids know it almost never works like that in real life, right?
Kids: If you say so.
Me: No—that's the lesson. Gambling is bad.
Kids: [dollar signs sparkling in their eyes] Uh-huh.
Technically it's a game (or should I say, "game") that works just fine as a brief money-funnel into some lucky bastard's pocket. When played for dollar coins or fifty-cent pieces it works, but just barely—be advised that there are no decisions (save to play or not to play) and there is no way of massaging the odds. Playing for plastic chips is just plain stupid. You might as well do coin-flips for air-kisses.
The production ethos mirrors that of the weird mini-era of confused optimism between the end of the Cold War and the nose-bloodying of 9/11. Curiously, none of the elements reflect the real zeitgeist—the paranoia of religious End Times mixing like crap-n-vomit with the carpet-bagging shitsacks who gorged themselves on the Y2K Bug hoax. (Now THAT'S a Monopoly theme if I ever heard one!)
The prismatic foil board is migraine-inducing and the translucent money, while funny at first, is far less effective than nice paper would have been. The money also holds grease stains rather well.
I rate the base game a 7 when played:
- by the rules as written - with four adults - ending at the second bankruptcy.
(Gave this to the kids or the garbage, not sure which.)
Low speed, high drag. This game is a lot better on the planet where they never invented Tichu. I understand that Rook glows warmly with nostalgia for some folks; unfortunately I came to this way too late in the game for it to matter.
I liked the graduated questions designed to trip up the impatient know-it-alls and favor the patient, but the die roll to see how far you advance on the board is asinine. Our team won, but the other team that had at least as many correct answers as we did never made it further than a quarter around the board due to shitty rolls and constantly landing on the "go back 3 spaces" space.