DURING our Nerd House coffee break yesterday, The Braces' newspaper
started to rustle and then to shake. When his face finally emerged from
behind, it was in full chuckle-mode.
''That Tony Blair,'' he said, ''what a marvellous script-writer he
has. 'Monopoly managers paying themselves Monopoly money'. Brilliant,
absolutely brilliant.''
But Ms Angelica Banana-Skyne, the High Whitecraigs polymath, was
stirring her second cup with that non-commital, pursed-lip expression
which usually means trouble. ''No it's not,'' she said. ''It is deeply
inaccurate and misleading.''
The chuckle-mode left The Braces' face as if erased by a wet haddock.
''Are you going to tell me,'' he asked Angelica, ''that a #2m pay
package for rattling something called a grid is a fair and reasonable
return? Have you been so long in the financial services sector that all
humanity has deserted your soul? Don't you feel envy any more, for
example?''
''That was not the point,'' said Angelica. ''The point was about the
term 'Monopoly money'.'' This was hardly a realistic jibe to make under
the circumstances. She would explain.
In ''Monopoly'', it was possible to buy a house in Trafalgar Square
for #150. Heavens, you were even allowed to build a house in Trafalgar
Square, planning permission apparently rubberstamped, for the same
amount. Mayfair was dearer, certainly, but you could rent a house there
for #200. ''Maybe that's for a couple of hours,'' she said
sarcastically.
She had also memorised some of the hazards and golden handcuffs that
lay in wait for ''Monopoly'' managers. ''Make general repairs on all of
your houses,'' she quoted. ''For each house pay #25. For each hotel pay
#100. Good grief,'' she added. Then there was ''your building loan
matures. Receive #150.'' That wouldn't give you more than a decent
dinner for four, with wine.
The Braces looked crushed: ''But it's the er, the metaphorical, er . .
.'' he mumbled.
By this time, though, Angelica and I had the bit between our teeth.
''Pay school fees of #150,'' we quoted. ''Drunk in charge: fine #20 . .
. Bank pays you dividend of #50.'' If this was really ''Monopoly''
money, there was little for Mr Major to do a U-turn about.
But the Braces doesn't give up easily. ''Do you realise that in
''Monopoly'', you can rent Fenchurch St Station for #25? This suggests
that the railways have been secretly privatised all along.''
We pondered this for a bit. We felt that Mr Blair's scriptwriter was
getting himself into deep water with this board game. We thought we
might sent him a fax: ''Forget Monopoly -- try Scruples.''
In the end we didn't bother, but it was a useful thought.
* THE Bank of Scotland is launching a credit card exclusive to
Trekkies, fans of the ongoing Star Trek cinema and television saga.''
And so . . .
In the twenty-third century, Spock stood uncertainly beside a
hole-in-the-wall machine in the Gork galaxy. He fingered his Trekky
card. Admiral Kirk stood beside him.
''Listen,'' said Spock, ''are you sure this is going to work? I've
never seen a creature like this before. It doesn't seem real.''
Kirk said: ''It's simple, Dr Spock. You shove in your card, the right
way up, then you enter your PIN number. It asks you what you want --
money, a print-out of your balance, a short homily on interest rates.
And away you go.''
''What's a PIN number?'' asked Spock. Kirk smote his forehead. There
would be no Indian carry-out for them that night.
* The difficulty in tracking down Mr Nick Leeson, formerly of Barings
Bank in Singapore, has puzzled us more than somewhat. We assume that an
all-cars message went out saying: ''Subject was last photographed
wearing a blazer in vertical stripes of gold and black, with clashing
tie. Do not approach without sunglasses.''
We have always wondered why dealers in the more exotic exchanges have
been made to wear such horrible livery -- pinks and lime-greens. Now we
know: but it's funny that it hasn't worked.
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