Sunday, January 11, 2009

Last Will and Testament of The League

Mel's passing has given me a moment of pause regarding my own affairs. Jamie and I have never gotten around to putting a will together, but now seems like a great time to do so.

I am assuming that I'm going to go out in a pretty awesome manner. I feel obligated to provide you guys with instructions that are relatively easy to improvise by, as, depending upon awesomeness of my passing, there may or may not be a body at all.

Firstly, there are going to be a lot of women who are going to regret that they never took their shot at me while they had the chance. It is up to you to calm these women down so they don't upset Jamie. It's also best that there's not an open casket if there is a body, so nobody tries to climb inside and be buried with me out of grief.

No doubt the City of Austin, State of Texas and Federal Government are going to want to pool their resources to finally build that Colossus type statue of me and Mel in the middle of Lady Bird Lake. What I would suggest is that you just make the statue roughly life-sized, and put it by the side of the lake, then use the unspent moneys to have a party down by my statue. Be very selective about music, and remember people all can agree on mariachi and break beat. Also, provide fruit punch so nobody gets dehydrated.

Again, there are going to be a lot of women who are going to want to stand vigil all night by my statue. I suggest you discourage this behavior, but I'd hate to see the cops get involved, because we really won't need any rioting if the ladies are turned away.

1) In the event there is a body: Cremation.
2) In the event I've disappeared under mysterious circumstances: Wire all funds to the National Bank of Switzerland under the name Friedrich Von Happelhausen. Friedrich will be sure to settle my affairs. Do not seek out Friedrich, or notice that he and I look very much alike, save Friedrich's affectation for wearing a mustache, top hat and monocle.
3) Many will wish to eulogize me. Do not let them. It will just upset the ladies all the more, and/ or cause a traffic jam in the aisle as all who wish to rush to relate my awesomeness compact the walkway. Instead, just play the funeral scene from Star Trek II on a 60" flatscreen.
4) Flowers are allowed, but only the purest white magnolias and orchid blossoms shall festoon the coffin.
5) The coffin, which will be empty*, shall be made of the shiniest polished steel and be adorned with a large crest of The House of El.
6) No eternal flame. I hate to think of the gas bill.
7) At my final resting place, it will be tempting to erect a monument which dwarfs all those around my empty coffin, capped with a statue of Lucy as an angel, complete with halo and harp. But that is a bit much. A simple slab of pure, polished steel, again emblazoned with the Crest of The Man of Steel in 24K gold, shall be placed over my resting spot. No name or words are necessary. Just the shield, my years of life, and the word "awesome".
8) My ashes shall be scattered with those of Melbotis, my one true friend who was not above giving me his honest, harshest criticism when I needed it most.
9) I wish to be sent to the oven in a blue suit, with a red tie, wearing my Superman costume underneath in an undetectable fashion.
10) It is completely normal to end a funeral with a screaming guitar solo and fireworks.
11) Do not let Randy into the after party if he did not remember to wear a tie. Someone may wish to bring an extra, just in case.

My Worldly Possessions:

In my travels I have accumulated a wide variety of items which I sincerely hope will not lead to bitter strife within my family, loved ones and secret concubines as they seek to break up this astounding collection amongst themselves.

The Comics: All trade paper backs, graphic novels and spined books are to be given to the Libraries at the University of Texas into the Ryan "Awesome" Steans Memorial Collection. If they do not want the comics, it is okay to just leave them at the loading dock behind the PCL, just east of Whitis.

The "floppies" shall be broken up as a collection and sold for a fair market value. Except for the Jimmy Olsens, Action Comics and Supermans. The Jimmy Olsens shall go into the furnace with my body, mingling with my own ashes.

The Action Comics and Superman shall be locked into a steel storage facility 30 floors below sea level where they shall be safe for the next million years, only to be discovered by a super-intelligent race of opossums who will have dominated the world by that time (tragically, they will have lost their child rearing pouches through the mysteries of evolution).

The statues shall be donated to a display at the Ryan "Awesome" Steans Reform School for Wayward Teenage Girls, which shall be set up with a portion of my vast wealth. May those young ladies look upon the plaster visages of the Justice League and learn a bit about moral fortitude.

My clothes shall be donated to a scholarship for chubby, oversized teen-age boys who like Superman and UT football.

Jamie will, of course, become available once again. I ask that you give her space to grieve, and recognize that while she may marry for financial security, that her suitors should be forewarned: once you've gone League... well, few other men will stack up.** That said, I suggest a contest of strength, wit and spirit shall be had between her many suitors. Gentlemen, I wish you luck.

Also, know Jamie will try to get you to clean the downstairs bathroom once a fortnight.

That is all

I suppose that should settle my earthly affairs. To my family, thanks. To those I leave behind: You were lucky to have known me. I'm pretty awesome.

To those kids the lawyers keep claiming were mine: You are in no way mine in any legal or biding sense, but you have been gifted with the greatest gift of all. Half your genes come from a pretty awesome guy and not tha conniving weasel you call a mother who wasn't even that great of a Putt-Putt Golf employee when I met her.

*I am terrified of zombie/ vampire/ ghoulism. Seriously. Cremate my body.
** probably Alec Baldwin


Steven said...

This was a million times hilarious.

I'll bring the wreath made of Pine-Fresh(tm) car-fresheners.

Anonymous said...

I wear a tie for no man.

J.S. said...

Well, this is a lot more complicated than my original plan (which involved my neighbor's compost heap).

tachyonshuggy said...

I was really hoping for "drunken Viking funeral a la Blake Edwards' S.O.B." but this will do too.

Michael Corley said...

Very thougtful. If you had not laid down these plans, several counties, perhaps the entire state of Texas, would be in flames by midnight of your passing if the mourners have no outlet for their grief.

You should put a holding pattern on dispersal of your mortal items, as it is at least 75% likely your ashes will form into a new, more powerful you, in an unflattering Phoenix costume whereupon you will become evil and good with regularity.

Anonymous said...

I'll abide by all your wishes as long as you return in kind (assuming of course, I go first).

Do cremate, do drink shots of vodka, do eat the best fried chicken and chocolate pudding you can get your hands on, and do, do play this song:

The League said...

Why do we have to wait until you die to drink vodka, eat fried chicken and pudding and listen to your tunes?

Let's do that on Sunday.

Cal's Canadian Cave of Coolness said...

ah great...I already have a swiss bank account under the name of Friedrich Von Happelhausen and someone has been draining that account. Now I have to dress like Mr Peanut cause my Monopoly Guy disquise is out of fashion.