I of sound mind and (other than a probable case of cirrhosis) sound body declare this to be my Last Will and Testament, meaning that the verbal Will that I made last night between yukes over the back fence is no longer valid:
First, to my frickin’ boy Jason, I leave my PlayStation 5. I bought it with the money we pocketed after we upcharged all those freshmen who wanted in on our “Aspen in the 80s” party. Being able to make serious bank off of those kids was super hard of us, and I hope every time you hit the strip club in GTA you think of me.
To my dude Shawn, I want to give you the remaining balance of my FanDuel account. It’s only fourteen dollars and eighty-nine cents, but I know with how clinical you are on the lays, that’s going to turn into some major dough.
For Patrick, I want to leave the Illadelph I stole from those idiots over at the SigEp house. We took hella chops in my room after parties with that thing, so it feels only right that you be the one to keep that spark blazing while I’m gone.
Dom, my big, I want to leave you the case of Bud Light in my room from before they became major pussies. As you drink those brews and remember the glory days of Anheuser-Busch, I hope it also makes you remember our own glory days. Like that time we got kicked out of the club for smashing liquor bottles on the floor. Totally epic.
Joe, my little, head into my room and grab my wallet. There’s a condom in there that I always carried around to bring me good luck on my never ending hunt for great skonch. While I’m up in heaven chasing down poon, I hope that ribbed Trojan helps you to drown your sorrows in pussy.
To Charlotte, I know our relationship ended on rocky terms after you caught me feeling up that Tri Sig after that mixer back in February. I swear to you that only happened because I was blacked out on sidewalk slammers, and to show that I’ll forever consider you the best lay I’ve ever had, I want to give back the thong I stole from your room while you were showering one morning. They’re in the bottom drawer of my dresser. Just ignore the other panties that are in there, those hoes never even compared to your snatch.
And to the chapter, my brothers, I want to leave the Zyn trophy I earned for putting two entire tins in my mouth at one time during pledging. I was nic-sick as balls, but it made me a better member of the fraternity and showed me exactly why I needed to be in this frat. We’ll all be huckin’ die and dickin’ beers up in heaven one day. I just know it.
Pretty sure that’s all the shit I own, but if there’s anything else, sell it and use the cash to buy me some of the finest drip you possibly can because I don’t want to look like a dork when I’m underground. I’ve never faced a hangover this bad, and if it doesn’t totally murk me, I know the crap I’m about to drop or the two packs of cigs I housed last night definitely will. Until the next life, boys.
