Photo: Jacob Dubé

How does a Monopoly game break up best friends?

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Reading Time: 3 minutes

By Skyler Ash

Three friends since first year—Georgia Walters, Ari Singh and Frederick Illverwood—vowed on the first day of frosh that they would “MDBMTBFFs,” or, “Most Definitely Be More Than Best Friends Forever.” That pact would lay the ground- work for the world’s greatest friendship. Walters, Singh and Illverwood are now halfway through their final year of engineering at Ryerson, and they thought their bond couldn’t be broken—until it was.

It was a dark night over the winter break, but their moods seemed to brighten the space. Soft candles glowed all around the small living room in their shared Jarvis Street apartment. The power had gone out half an hour earlier, so the group took the opportunity to engage in a game of Monopoly.

“We’d never actually played together before, and Georgia had just gotten a set for Christmas,” said Singh. And so, the three friends gathered around their coffee table with the game and a few snacks.

“Freddie had just made some guac that morning, and I had bought chips. We didn’t even plan that, it just happened! Life is so wild sometimes,” Singh said.

Walters selected the shoe, Singh picked the horse, while Illverwood chose the top hat and agreed to be the banker. Walters bought the first property—the unassuming Mediterranean Avenue a few spots down from ‘GO’ that charges $2 rent without houses or hotels. Illverwood soon became the owner of all the yellow properties and Singh had a stronghold on Boardwalk and Park Place.

After one hour, things started getting a little dicey. “We actually lost both the dice, but it turns out they had rolled into the guacamole,” said Illverwood. “It actually tasted better after that, which was odd but nice.”

After finding the dice, Singh noticed one of the houses on her St James Place property was missing. She was quick to accuse Walters, who only had two properties in her possession: her “old faithful” Mediterranean Avenue and its sister property, Baltic Avenue. Walters was also low on cash from paying rent “out the ass” on her friend’s properties that were “so littered with houses I felt like I was in a suburb.”

When Walters said she didn’t take Singh’s house, the finger was pointed to banker Illverwood, who had discovered amidst the uproar that the bank till was missing approximately $12,355. “That money didn’t just walk off on its own,” said Illverwood. He accused Singh of hiding her own house, causing Walters “unnecessary stress” and stealing the missing money.

Outraged, Singh threw Illverwood’s homemade guac to the floor. Neighbours report hearing an unmanly cry of “You fool!” before the earth-shattering fight broke out. Illverwood retaliated by licking the salt off of all of Singh’s tortilla chips and putting them back in the bowl.

Singh was “so devastated” that she picked up a pair of scissors and cut Illverwood’s favourite sweater to shreds.

When lllverwood reached for Singh’s purse, Walters stepped in. “It was just getting out of hand. I’d never seen rage like that before,” said Walters. “It was… inhuman. I was picking up some bad vibes.”

It was in this moment that Walters did the only thing she could think of: she flipped the Monopoly board, sending hotels, money, cards, and three figurines flying into all corners of the apartment.

The three stood with teeth bared, breathing heavily. Without a word, they made their way to their respective rooms.

The following morning, they all packed their bags and left their apartment—and their friendship—behind.

“The game, it changes you,” said Illverwood. Nineteen days later, he was back living at his parent’s place in Brampton. “Sometimes you just can’t go back. You just can’t.”

Walters is living with a girl she met online, and hasn’t been able to look at chips and guac the same way ever since. “My new roommate, she’s a guac enthusiast, and it’s… it’s just really hard sometimes, ya know?”

Singh has gone off the radar, and hasn’t been seen since that night.

Having gone their separate ways, the MDBMTBFF pact made that fateful summer day can never be repaired. “Some things are just made to be broken,” said Illverwood.

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