Then Billy picked up the Satan Monopoly board.

Later that night, Sheldon lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. Missy poked her head in.

“…Name them?”

Mary looked at George, who shrugged. “That’s probably the best we’re gonna get.”

“That’s not real,” Sheldon said, though he edged closer. “The church just drew a goatee on Rich Uncle Pennybags.”

Sheldon sighed. “Close enough.”