I knew the moment I wrote my will that it wasn't going to garner as huge a fanbase as I.
Then again, I knew that even when I began my "Like And Subscribe To Be In My Will Contest".
It all began with my problems. Oh, the things I had to deal with.
My dog was having trouble moving its bowels.
My friends all planned to go to a movie without me.
My entire family was on my case about "getting low grades in Math" or "being absolute garbage at playing the guitar and still forcing us to listen to you play."
In short, there was nobody in history who'd faced more problems than I.
Even the owner of a nearby store refused to be bribed yesterday in return for removing Twizzlers from the store because their Twitter handle had dissed me!
Apparently, his business "ran on Twizzlers and misplaced optimism", whatever the hell that means.
My whole life was in turmoil and I had no idea what to do. A mid-life crisis at fifteen! What a depressing thought.
So I turned to my three loyal subscribers. I know, three! A truly flabbergasting amount, eh?
Move over, other famous YouTubers: The Prodigal Grandson is coming.
That's the name of my channel.
Then again, being the grandson of the Queen of England comes with perks like being able to call yourself the grandson of god without being cancel-cultured. It was close enough to god to be the Queen of England. Or so I thought.
Of course, other people kept telling me the Queen doesn't "hold any actual power" and "is just a tourist attraction".
I didn't reply and just put it down to them being jealous of me being able to make vlogs at Buckingham Palace and them having to live under their respective bridges.
And so, my problems, like my YouTube subscribers and their "facts" persisted.
My dog was still constipated.
My friends ditched me for being an arrogant prick (They may think they're important because they're the grandchildren of tech moguls and billionaires, which gives them "actual power" but they're all just slaves to their own egos rather than kings of people.")
My maths grade, like my musical skills, showed as much improvement as a murderer in prison.
And the shopkeeper refused yet another bribe, this time to remove another brand of food that insulted me on social media.
Proof that my life is absolute, steaming garbage.
So, like I was saying before I went off-course (like my father's Royal Rolls-Royce), I turned to my three subscribers and created a challenge: Anyone who subscribed to me and liked all my videos would be in my will and then inherit all my wealth and status.
I know, I was throwing away money that was given to me not by choice but by luck, and I was throwing away power bestowed upon me by Mother Nature herself as she picked the natural pecking order of things and picked me to inherit the Queen's Daughter's fortune and thus disobeying her will, AND my mother, the Princess, would be very upset indeed if I did this...
But in my defence, I needed subscribers if I ever wanted to be on Trending!
And so, over the course of the next 72 hours, I went viral.
Newspapers, television programs and comedians all around the world took to praising me for my challenge. Or teasing me, their sarcasm is so hard to decipher when they say:
"This child is as delusional as his grandmother, the Queen (who still thinks she rules England today), when he thinks he can just give away so much money."
"This child should have peanut butter permanently stuck between his lips. Or in his keyboard."
"This child is so batshit stupid, so purely dumb, that he can't even count the amount of money he's giving away. And there's even multiple reasons for THAT. A, He's garbage at maths. Even at fifteen, only three years away from voting age, he can barely manage to count to a hundred. And B, it's so much money that Bruce Wayne, Tony Stark, and Scrooge McDuck put TOGETHER would still not be able to amass that much cash."
But as they say, I ignored the haters and the silencers and focused on the positives.
I got over 7 zillion subscribers in three days (including my maths AND guitar tutors, finally!), setting so many world records, I couldn't count them on my fingers. I couldn't count them anyways, since I was garbage at maths.
And so I wondered what to do.
How would I split that kind of money SO many ways?
And so, I hired an accountant.
A very intelligent and sharp-witted accountant.
I knew because when I asked her the capital of Berlin, she replied, "Berlin is the capital of Germany."
I know she was wrong and that Hitler was the capital of Germany, but she seemed to be close enough to the answer, anyways.
She was good at maths, too! Because when I asked her to divide 35.42 zillion by 7.6 zillion, she replied, "A zillion isn't a number."
And so, this genius accountant and I set out on our journey of writing the will.
Which turned out to eventually become a minefield of problems, because eventually, we got to the number of subscribers that each person would only receive around a pound.
This is how I understood that advertising zillions of pounds could probably attract a lot of potential suitors.
By advertising zillions of pounds and attracting a lot of potential suitors.
And just then, staring into the distance of my room and looking at the posters of famous people on my wall and my king-sized bed, I realised something important.
These people weren't subscribing to me because they liked me.
They were doing it for my money!
The world is full of materialistic people who only do things for their benefit!
(Of course, my accountant then explained that I was being even MORE materialistic by asking for subscribers to gain fake followers on an online platform in return for a mountain of money, but the sentiment still remains!)
We continued to write the will, BUT there was a surprise twist in it now.
Only one randomly selected participant of the challenge would receive the money.
Unfortunately, someone leaked this news and now I was put under a whole new layer of scrutiny.
I thought it was my accountant but then I realised it was me because I watched my latest vlog again and it turned out a Giant Post-It reminder was put up on my wall while I was filming and it was visible for a good one hour.
This, apparently, disgruntled a lot of people because we lost most of our subscribers through that very leak.
My accountant called me a twat and got back to work on deciding the lucky recipient.
Meanwhile, I tried to feed my dog some laxatives, which worked out completely differently than I'd imagined and caused more problems than it solved.
My ex-friends continued to poke fun and hurl acidic statements at me.
My maths and guitar tutors unsubscribed because of the lucky recipient news, alongside around 6 zillion people (again, my accountant explained it was 6 billion but I was smarter than that. I was beginning to doubt either her intelligence or her loyalty at this point, really).
And the owner of the shop turned out to have a very strong set of morals because he refused yet another bribe. Granted, this one tried to convince him to uninstall the television in his store, which attracted most of his customers, but still, it was a pretty enormous bribe.
In any case, we'd selected the recipient, who went by the name of "DaFreshPrince_@Buckingham" because I liked his/her taste in names, but mainly he/she commented really nice things on my videos. And it felt so... heartfelt.
The will was written out, and it read:
The Will of Prince Donald:
The grandson of Queen Elizabeth, Prince Donald had indeed partaken in a quest of the selection of the recipient of this will, and hence 35.42 billion pounds.
The recipient of aforementioned will, this document, is a user of YouTube by the name of "DaFreshPrince_@Buckingham", address and contact details unknown.
Upon the death of Prince Donald, this user will receive his status and all his wealth. This is promised by Prince Donald, who crosses his fingers and hopes to die if said promise is somehow proven untrue.
Signature: Prince Donald, Buckingham Palace
And so, the will was decided upon and now all that was required was to let the lucky recipient know.
Unfortunately, YouTube comments are public and so, this news was leaked too, once again, by means of me.
No one was happy about this, which absolutely stunned me, before I realised another thing.
It was a huge amount of money going to someone besides them, despite all the "hard work" they'd put in.
They lost the game.
I gasped audibly as I finally managed to wrap my head around the term "sore loser"!
I used to just believe they needed a day off and a massage.
The day of reckoning had arrived, for us to find out the address and contact details of DaFreshPrince_@Buckingham, so we could legally hand over the will. Plus, he told me he planned to frame it in his Palace.
So, we hired a hacker! An ethical one, of course. We made sure because we did a background check and it turned out, he was good! He was the guy who'd hacked all those verified Instagram accounts last week.
My accountant told me to look up the word ethical and said I'd be surprised at what I saw and I replied by saying that I didn't need to because I knew what it meant, and, in any case, anyone we'd found hiding in an underground hut, found only because he was tracked by the Royal Computer Guy, was definitely an ethicalhacker.
She also tried to explain that we didn't need a hacker if we had a Royal Computer Guy, but she was wrong there, too.
The hacker we hired began his task and in around three hours (it took a lot of time because I had to upgrade from Windows Vista and buy Microsoft Office 2019 and blah, blah, blah).
He, apparently, lived in Buckingham Palace.
And even more surprisingly, his IP address, computer and even his social media credentials...
WERE THE SAME AS MINE!
It turns out, I was DaFreshPrince_@Buckingham.
I realised I'd absolutely forgotten about the fake account I'd made the week before last week to try and get more people to register and had ended up using that account to comment on my own videos with praise and appreciation and support and other things my mother thought were sentimental, wishy-washy nonsense.
It turns out I had promised myself my own will.
And so, by law, my will was considered null and void and would be passed on to my next successor by blood. Basically, my cousin in America would be a very rich and powerful person the second I died.
(Which, by the way, led to a string of assassination attempts, including one where someone simply tried to poison my Coke by putting something transparent and cube-shaped in it. The Coke was freezing cold after that, and only thanks to my body's enhanced ability to keep warm was I able to live to see another day.)
It turns out this information was leaked too, and, as you may have guessed by now, I was now the subject of even more ribbing and ridicule.
Comedians were ruthless.
Newspapers, even more so.
But the worst critic?
It turns out she'd had a row with my cousin the previous year and had forsaken her.
And now, I'd just promised all our money to her. Which vexed my mother to the point her face grew purple with rage. Purple! Which was so much worse, according to her "rainbow of rage". It was all the way at the bottom!
But another thing happened that shocked me, surprised me and caused my mother, as well as I, to faint all at once.
My secretary began to dance with joy.
Now, I am aware you may be wondering what a rude miserable little brat I was, fainting at the sight of someone dancing.
But we didn't faint because she was dancing.
We fainted because of her reason.
My secretary, the second she found out my money would be passed on to her, pulled off her face mask.
Under it, she had caramel coloured hair and bloodshot blue eyes. She grinned at me and spoke the one word that caused the shockwaves of anxiety that uprooted Buckingham Palace.
Oh, good lord, no.
Could it be...
IT WAS MY AMERICAN COUSIN!
She'd planned this all along! All the leaks, hate, scrutiny, disgruntlement and suffering were caused by her!
She turned my friends against me!
She bribed the shopkeeper, specifically telling him not to accept my bribes!
She... had nothing to do with my maths and music. I was just really bad at that.
And worst of all?
She offered most of the comedians and newspapers their headlines and jokes!
She had single handedly sabotaged me AND made profit off it herself!
Wow, major respect to her. What a move! If life was chess, she was a grandmaster! Which, as I was told earlier, is not actually a term for a universal overseer and instead a term for someone really good at chess.
But at the same time, it enraged my mother more than it angered me.
She feverishly thought of a move to make.
Then my mother realised I wouldn't get anything if I wasn't in her will, but I knew she wouldn't do something that cruel.
The will of my mother was all over the papers the next morning.
The Will Of Queen Elizabeth's Daughter, Princess Megan,
Give my pension, money, status, everything to my son's American cousin. If she's dead, give it to anyone else. He is an absolute moron, beyond the likes of anything I've ever seen before. She is smart, and quick-witted. She deserves it more.
Signature: Princess Megan, Buckingham Palace
As my cousin put it, despite my strong disagreement;
"With a good team effort, a stupid person named Donald can be defeated too."