A deadly game of Monopoly

"Let them go, now."

The gamemaster could only stare in disbelief as the fight continued. 2 grown adults. Fighting over a game of Monopoly.

As the words came out of Russo's mouth, he kicked, shoved, and even slapped his smaller sized neighbour, Raine. With all his might, he yanked and pulled Raine's property cards to his side, all the while screaming that they were "rightfully his".

But Raine isn't budging. Despite his smaller statute, Raine, bruised and injured, managed to throw back a few punches of his own, hitting Russo right in the jawline. In fact, it seems that Raine is stronger, and he currently has the upper hand in this tug-of-war.

"Yes, they were yours 31 turns ago, but the ownership of those properties changed, and they aren't yours now. That's how the game works, and that's how it is intended to work. So, release your grip, Russo."

As the gamemaster finished his sentence, the rest of the participants around the table nodded in silence, with a few of them even repeating the same message and condemning Russo for his poor behaviour.

But the fight still carried on. Neither sides are backing down from this.

As the tussle continued, the gamemaster heaved a sigh and buried his face.

How did it come to this? What went wrong?

The relationship between Russo and Raine was always sour. For as long as he could remember, there were initially some discontent and a feud between the 2, but nothing of this scale before. It started with occasional jabs and verbal insults from Russo, but it slowly escalated to a full-fledged fight.

The gamemaster eyes widened with realization, as he recalled that about 8 turns ago, something similar to the current situation happened: In a swift moment, Russo snatched a valuable property card from Raine.

The gamemaster knew about it. The various participants knew about it. Raine knew about it. Russo announced it in glee and excitement.

The deal back then was pretty simple: Raine would give up his brass knuckles, and in return, Russo will not bend the rules and take his property cards.

But it happened anyway. After all, Russo is a pretty big guy, and nobody who's playing would want to aggravate him and get beaten up to a pulp, especially with him owning some really, really huge brass knuckles which can REALLY pack a punch.

Of course, brass knuckles are really, really dangerous, and to date, not a single participant has resorted to their use. However, the gamemaster noted that in the recent few years, various game participants are getting more and more aggressive, threatening to use them or what not. A few even displayed their brass knuckles for everyone (especially their neighbours) to see, letting them know that if push comes to shove, such weapons will be used.

The gamemaster shook his head.

Surely they know that would ensue chaos and MADness. It would lead to serious injuries and visits to the hospital, and most importantly, the game will be stopped!

Everything they have accomplished together, the advancements they have made, the future which they have envisioned, it would be all for naught! The game has been, and will be, going on for generations to come, but ever since the introduction of the brass knuckles, the state of the game has been in a precarious situat--

"You know what, Raine? I've had enough of this. If you don't let go by the count of 3, I'm gonna--"

"What? Put on your brass knuckles?", the gamemaster interjected. As he locked eyes with Russo, the same thought echoed in everyone's mind: It's a bluff.

In fact, the remaining participants have heard of such a threat from others over and over again, to the point where even some of them are desensitized to it. As the other participants continued on with their day-to-day activities and squabbles, the gamemaster noticed that something's amiss.

Aside from the badly bruised body, the gamemaster noticed that there was something different about Russo: there seemed to be a little hint of crazy in his eyes. Looking around, there seems to be no way out of this situation for Russo: Given the severity of the fight, if he loses, he would be deemed as a coward and a loser for the rest of his life; while if he wins (as unlikely as that may be), he would be condemned and denounced for the rest of his life.

Something akin to picking a fight with an old man.

As the gamemaster consolidated his thoughts, Russo muttered something which sent shivers down his spine:

I just might flip the whole freaking table