00:00This is the real monopoly, not a game, a rehearsal for debt.
00:04At the turn of the century, they called him the collector.
00:07He didn't take cash.
00:08He took children's nights, until they said, paid.
00:11Neighbors swore his basement was a board, black and red squares, doorways as deeds,
00:17a circle no child ever finished.
00:19Land wrong, zvanished till morning, land on jail.
00:23Locked until you stopped asking why.
00:25He wasn't feeding on fear, he was rewiring, teaching that luck decides.
00:29The owner wins, and existing has a fee.
00:32Dice for chance, rent for obedience, every roll a lesson, every loss a debt.
00:37He wore a black suit, a silver top hat, a cane tipped with a die, and a smile too wide to be kind.
00:44Decades later, the board returned, but now as a toy.
00:48What began as a warning was trimmed until it grinned.
00:51Same hat, same suit, same smile.
00:54People laughed at the resemblance.
00:55Then some lost houses and fires, jobs gone overnight, families scattered, as if the game never ended, as if it still collects its rent.
01:04So next time you pass, go, remember, you're not circling for yourself.
01:08You're circling for the man who owns the board.
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