Mr. Pembleton's last will and testament clearly establishes this trust fund for his favorite MMOG character.
That's right gentlemen, so I don't want to hear any further complaints. This firm is obliged to enact Mr. Pembleton's final wishes to the letter. Carlsberg, freshen up my scotch, will you? Mother of crap, it's like a sauna in here.
Now, section C of the will here establishes a hundred thousand dollar trust fund in the name of "Dr_Smaxalot," a 26th level Bard/Thief in a popular massively multiplayer roleplaying game. Now, according to State laws Dr_Smaxalot is not a legal entity and is therefore not legally entitled to the 100-Gs. However, at Mr. Pembleton's request before his untimely death (note to self: never embezzle from the Korean Mafia), we did a little poking around and discovered that the server farm hosting this computer game was located in Austin, Texas. There's some progressive legislation there that allows money to be set aside for "digital enterprises," of which we consider Dr_Smaxalot.
Now then, to the meat of it. A portion of the $100 grand will go toward reoccurring $12.95 monthly service fees for the duration of the online game. Mr. Pembleton ALSO stated that he wanted Dr_Smaxalot to "remain happy in his waning years," which he specifically defined as owning and maintaining a small villa in the game and being played with three times a week. Dr_Smaxalot is not permitted to be killed in the game, yet he must visit unusual places in the game world at least twice a week. Dr_Smaxalot must always remain part of a guild, and we are contractually obligated to ensure that Dr_Smaxalot levels up at least once a month until he reaches level 40, at which point he is expected to level up once every two months. Finally, the Will specifies that Dr_Smaxalot will have a live-in cleric for his spiritual health and a retinue of no less than five (5) bodyguards of level 12 or higher.
Mother of Deeznuts, I'm sticking to this leather chair. DAMN. [The lawyer coughs a wet, hacking cough.] Okay, so, now, to the execution of Mr. Pembleton's last wishes.
Praxton, you lease out some office space. We need one room, broadband, get a good deal on a used PC. No more than $400 bucks a month, tops. Carlsberg, take out an ad in the paper. We're looking for a 14 year old, gamer, maybe two, we'll pay 'em a couple hundred bucks a month to take Dr_Smaxalot out adventuring. Luntley, I want you canvassing the messageboards for clerics for hire. Get a good one. And some fighters. NO KOREANS. If we invest the rest of the cash-money and factor in interest, we've got several years of quality gaming here. Okay, let's do it!
Well, what are you clowns waiting for? Let's get moving. If you pissants let October elapse without levelling up Smaxalot we don't get paid, capice? Now geddaoudahere, go find me those 14 year olds.
[The lawyer gently opens a humidor and withdraws a hand-rolled Cuban cigar.]
Dr_Smaxalot. [He bites off the end of the cigar and spits it out.] My meal ticket...
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