To All Those Above and Below Me, This is My Will

To all those above and below me, this is my will. 

David squinted at the computer screen before giggling at the words written on them. He knew his family was about to disown him for what he was writing, but David needed something hilarious, something that screamed, ‘Only David would write a will this ridiculous and stupid!’ He wanted his family to remember him for his humor, instead of his intelligence. 

David placed his hands back on the keyboard and began to type. 

I am writing to you today because I have flatlined. Yes, by that I mean dead, six feet under, no longer alive, zapped out of existence. Yes, that’s what has happened. Now to my dear daughters, I would say I’m sorry because I am, but also I’m glad I do not have to hear about all the stupid boys who have broken your heart. It was starting to get on my nerves every time Alex or Jack came over, only to find out a week later you weren’t a thing, and they possibly might be a couple. Maybe just stay away from the guys who start bands while in high school, because it seems they just want to have sex with each other, and not care about you. 

To my wife, Linda dear, I’m sorry I’m leaving you this way. I know it must hurt, but I want you to know, I will be okay if you find new love. Just make sure he’s not hotter than me, I don’t want to be replaced by a Chris Hemsworth look alike, because it’d just erase the fact we know you like your men kind of chunky. 

David stopped for a second, rereading and laughing as he continued to read each word. He knew that this was quite a dreadful will, but he’d rather his family laugh and think of all the good times, instead of think of him as your typical family man. He wanted to be remembered for something big, and this will would help his goal.

Now, I want to talk about what I’ve done in this world and what I’m leaving you with. I don’t think anyone actually talks about themselves like this in their will, but I need people to remember to honor me! I need people to remember that I was the best damn cook on the block, and had the best dad jokes. They need to remember how I always had the beers for them, along with anything else they wanted, if you know what I mean. 

So let’s start with the block parties. In honor of me, you all must have a block party every weekend, called the ‘David Deep Fry’, because I would deep fry Oreos as deserts during the cookout, it only makes sense it’s named that. You must have fireworks once a month that spell out my name, and set off doves every year on the anniversary of my death. Yes, I would actually like all these, along with a street named after me in the neighborhood, specifically Anderson Ave, since I lived there. I suggest you name it David Ave or Cookout Blvd. Ya know because of my name and something I loved to do. 

For my dear neighbors, those who always cared for me, and helped us out while I was sick. I would thank you, but Karen’s potato salad tasted like shit, and I really don’t like it when Chad comes to drink beers on the porch while I’m just trying to remember what the smogged up Staten Island sky looked like. Now that I’m dead, I’m allowed to say all of this, because I never knew how to tell half of the block that you made me want to scoop my eyes out with spoons, or walk out onto the interstate and get hit by a semi-truck. 

So please, I’m begging you, Linda, just make sure those neighbors don’t come to bother you because you deserve a longer life than me. 

Now lastly, to my parents and siblings. Thank you for helping me become the man I am today. Ma, thank you for teaching me how to be a real Italian, instead of those Jersey Shore like freaks. I know they aren’t the real deal. Pops, thank you for teaching me that the South sucks, and is just a bunch of backroads, redneck, beer-drinking, hillbillies. I don’t know how mom married someone like you, but I still love you. Paul, Sarah, and Peter, I’m going to miss you all so much. I’ll miss the stupid arguments we’d have, the yelling, and reminiscing over the times we’d pull each other’s hair while screaming about who got the Television that night. It would mean the world to me if you continued this ritual once a month, even if you’re all now in your thirties and forties. 

Now for the money and fortunes, which I think everyone’s been waiting for. I mean, who reads a will for the goodbyes? Not me. I read them to know if I’m making bank. So, here we are, the money. 

Linda, I’m leaving you a majority of the fortune, which includes my life insurance, savings, and whatever else you want, I don’t really care. Girls, you get me and your mother’s cars. Yes, Linda, I’m also giving your car away, because, with the money I leave, you could buy yourself some fancy brand new car, with just using cash! Mom, Dad, Paul, Sarah, and Peter, my dear family. I’ll be leaving you with all the valuables that I cherished from my childhood. Yes, that means my stuffed animals, toy cars, all my sports trophies, and my collection of Punk records that are most likely worth millions. Oh, and that strange collection of beanie babies, you can sell those I don’t care. 

Well, I guess this is goodbye. I guess this is how I’m supposed to write a will, I don’t really know. If it’s not then oh well, you get what you get. I have one request, please make sure you play these songs at my funeral, or it wouldn’t be my funeral. 

• Courtesy of the Red, White, and Blue (The Angry American)- Toby Keith 
• Highway to Hell- AC/DC
• Don’t Stop Believin’- Journey 
• Champagne Supernova- Oasis
• So Far Away- Avenged Sevenfold

That’s all I ask of you, thank you. 

From the bottom of my heart, I love you all, 

David

P.S. Adopt a dog or something after I die, it’ll make you less sad.