SKYFALL, Johnny Kavanagh

20 questions

Maeve's Point of View

I don't know how it happened.

One moment, we were dragging out board games from a dusty shelf in Johnny's living room, and the next there was chaos.

Absolute, unapologetic chaos.

"I swear to God, Kavanagh." I hissed, pointing across the board. "If you touch my hotel on Grafton Street again, I'll bite your hand off."

"It's a free market, Sunshine." Johnny shot back, smug as anything. "Maybe you should've invested in utilities instead of getting greedy."

"Oh, please. You mortgaged half of Cork five turns ago and you've just been coasting on Mayfair and smugness."

Gibsie was halfway under the coffee table, counting out notes with the desperation of a man on the edge. "This game brings out the worst in people. It's tearing us apart. I liked us better before capitalism."

"You have three properties." I deadpanned.

"Because you vultures keep bleeding me dry!"

"You landed on them, Gibsie."

"Details." He wailed, collapsing dramatically onto the carpet. "I'm a humble man with dreams, and you've crushed every one of them under your boot heels."

We'd set up the board after both Johnny and I refused to play Twister – Gibsie had practically thrown a tantrum.

"Why does nobody respect my commitment to physical comedy?" He'd said, waving the Twister mat around like a protest sign.

"Because nobody wants to see you attempt a backbend in socks." I'd answered.

So now we were here, three hours into a warzone disguised as a board game, snacks scattered across the carpet, and my pile of cash growing taller with each smug roll of the dice.

Gibsie was nearly bankrupt.
Johnny was hanging on by a thread.

And me?
I was thriving.

It was beautiful.

"I'm buying Nassau Street." I said sweetly.

Gibsie groaned. "You're a monster."

"I'm a winner." I corrected.

Gibsie threw himself face-down onto the rug and groaned loudly. "Tell my family I died broke."

"You are your family's financial disappointment." I said.

"And proud." He mumbled into the carpet.

Ten minutes later, it was official – I'd won.

Johnny looked at the board with mild disbelief. "You're terrifying."

"She's like a Monopoly assassin." Gibsie said weakly, still lying on the floor. "You don't see her coming until you're six grand in debt."

I leaned back against the couch, folding my arms. "Maybe you two should've paid attention."

"You had a strategy." Johnny accused. "Who the hell has a Monopoly strategy?"

"I told you, I don't mess around with board games."

"You literally drew a map on a napkin at one point."

"Preparedness is not a crime."

"You colour-coded your properties."

"I like a system."

I don't know how it started.

One minute, I was basking in the glory of my Monopoly victory, arms folded smugly against the couch cushions while Gibsie was still lying face-down on the rug, groaning like he'd just lost a family member.
The next thing I knew, we were knee-deep in a full-blown interrogation disguised as a friendly game of Twenty Questions.