[ WP ] You have to explain to your mother why you are playing Monopoly with Obama , Putin and Xi Jinping in her basement at three in the morning .

It was a weird day, to say the least. 
 
 Being unemployed, up to my eyeballs in student loan debt, and having to move back into my mom's basement was n't my idea of making it this world, and it was even more inconvenient because it was Christmas Eve. I should have been out with my friends getting good and birthday drunk before Santa made his rounds, but a legacy I'd just found out about was occupying my time. 
 
 Before I explain that, though, here's a little about me. My name is Earl Thomas Pickering, and tomorrow I turn 25. I found out a couple years ago that a degree in European History from a second rate state university does n't get me much by means of a job. I'd working as an AP clerk for a local chain of mini-marts, but the expansion of big-box retailers in the area put the hurt on them, and they let me go a few months ago. I've been looking for work since, but the latest rent increase meant I was back in my mom's basement, living like I had in that summer after high school. 
 
 My grandfather, whom I loved dearly, passed away about five years ago. He'd left me a few things in his will, including a large box with a letter that I was n't to open until my 25th birthday. Today, an hour before my best friend Larry was supposed to pick me up for holiday drinking, I opened that box and my day took a turn toward the surreal. 
 
 `` My dear Larry, 
 
 I remember what I was doing the day you were born. It's a story a handful of people in this world know. On your birthday, I was in Berlin secretly meeting with the deputies for Boris Yeltsin and Jiang Zemin, helping negotiate the fall of the Soviet Union in the way that would minimize the chaos. 
 We worked late into the night, and it was an intense meeting. Voices at time conveyed anger, disappointment, resignation - but sometimes also optimism. The best part of that meeting, though, was when my assistant came in to congratulate me with the news that my first grandson had been born. We took a moment to pour toast with some fine vodka straight from Volgograd, and the tone of the meeting because much more collaborative. 
 
 There were some tough negotiations about an uncertain future. What emerged from the meeting, though, was the 1991 Secret Treaty of Berlin. I wo n't go into details, but there is one part of it that directly impacts you. We could n't agree on an end time for the treaty, so we agreed on an unusual stipulation. The leaders of the three countries would meet for a game of your choice every quarter century, to be moderated by you. The winner of that game can opt to extend the treaty by another quarter century, always to be moderated by you or your oldest descendant. 
 
 Earl, make sure the games are fair. Put thought into it. It's important that the treaty go on, so try to judge which contestant will be most likely to make that happen. Do it for the planet. 
 
 With love, 
 Grandpapa'' 
 
 Moments after I re-read that letter for the tenth time, my phone started ringing. I picked it up; no caller ID was available. `` Please hold for the President of the United States,'' a curt voice announced. 
 
 Five hours later, my plans for the evening we canceled. Caught off guard, I had picked the game I was most familiar with, a game my grandfather and I had played for years as his health slipped away. I was still processing the scene around me. Leaders from three of the most powerful countries in the world, flanked by an assistant and two protective service members each, all eying me as I went over the house rules. `` Money from Jail, Chance cards, and Community Chest cards go into a pool. If you land on Free Parking, you get that money.'' Not the official rules, but I'd grown up with them and I was more comfortable with them. `` You can only buy property'' - I glanced at the Chinese delegation, unable to remember how the communist government dealt with individual land ownership - `` after every player passes Go for the first time.'' 
 
 President Obama went first. For some reason, he'd picked that piece that looks like an iron, and he had a sort of internal chuckle as he did it. President Putin had picked the train, and President Xi Jinping had picked the little dog. President Obama tossed the dice and moved up to Oriental Ave. President Xi Jinping raised an eyebrow. 
 
 Then, suddenly, lights turned on in the stairwell and all eyes - some of which included hands on service pistols - looked over as my mom, in her nightgown, slightly bleary-eyed, appeared. `` Earl, what's going on here?''
