Happy happy fun times! (Or not.)

This weekend, I confirmed I own the most boring game in the world. I vaguely recalled it being boring -- I mean, I'd only played it once in the three and a half years I'd owned it -- but I thought I'd give it a second chance. Every game deserves a second chance, right? (Well, except Russian Roulette. That doesn't count.)

"Want to play a quick game of Risky Business?" I asked Paul Sunday. Johanna has strep, so our club didn't meet this week. I figured I'd reacquaint myself with Risky Business before they came over next so I could add it to the pile of games we're going to play. Paul reluctantly agreed he'd play one game with me -- but only one -- so I pulled out the game, dusted off the cover, and we were off to the races.

For those of you who aren't blessed with a copy of Risky Business, let me give you a brief overview of how it works. You start out with nothing and your goal is to become enormously wealthy and influential. Three rings stand between your sorry butt and the likes of Bill Gates and Warren Buffet.

1. In the inner ring, you must hire four managers. You roll a special die to see whether your managers are high-quality or crappy. You also must secure funding for your business and complete a three-part business plan. Now, how many games can boast that they require a business plan before you go any further?
2. In the middle ring, you must develop four products (creatively named Products A, B, C and D). You can spend $5 million to develop a lousy product, $10 million for an okay product, or $15 million for a gold-standard product. You may patent these products for an additional $5 million. If your products are not patented, another player may steal them from you. You may also team up with another player by merging your company with his. You must make $15 million in profits before you can leave this ring, and you may have to re-evaluate your managers (e.g. your awesome marketing guy might suddenly turn crappy).
3. In the outer ring, you buy customers to whom you sell your products. For a mere $5 million, corporations such as Royal Caribbean, Frito Lay -- even the U.S. Postal Service -- can become proud users of your Products A, B, C and D.
   
4. At some point, all this high-falutin' fun must come to an end, and you've got two ways to win. One, you can buy out all your competitors. Two, you can get eight customers, raise $50 million, and take your company public via an initial public offering, or IPO. That's it. That's the end. That's the game.
   

It's my own fault that I ended up with the most boring game in the world. I bought it during my brief stint at Barnes & Noble after college. The game retailed at $34.95, and we were left with a ton of extra copies after Christmas, so they were marked down 25%. Then 50%. Then 75%. And when they didn't sell at that low-low-low price, the boss marked them down to $1, and I bought a copy. (Would you believe they didn't sell all the games, even marked down to $1?)

And I missed another crucial warning sign: The game is closely tied to Junior Achievement and is endorsed by 23 corporations. It's the only game that fifth-graders are playing during social studies class and business executives are playing between morale-building ropes courses.

This weekend, I am so subjecting Johanna and Matt to a game of Risky Business. I'm sure they've done something that deserves so harsh a punishment.