The lawyer handed over the disc. “Here,” she said, expressionlessly. “All you need to know is on here.”
I opened it, letting the light play over the professionally engraved surface. Anthony “Prince” Guerino, last will and testament. “Do you have a place I can play this?” I said. “I don’t have a DVD player at home.”
“Of course,” the lawyer said, sounding about as pleased as if I’d asked for for bus fare. “Right this way.”
She ushered me into a small closet with a combination television and disc player, and I put the platter in. It played automatically, with no animated menus or any of the usual pleasantries.
A man in an oxygen mask appeared, propped up by velvet pillows on a bed that looked like it cost more than I made in a year. “Well, well, well. Look who it is,” he said in a heavy Chicago accent. “My last living relative that I don’t hate.”
I opened my mouth to say something in reply, and then closed it. Even alone, I would have felt like an idiot.
“So here’s the deal,” Prince Guerino said. “There ain’t a lot of us left, just two great-uncles, a cousin, and my kid sister’s kid. That’s you. Seeing as our cousin tried to kill me, Grunkle Paul is doing thirty to life, and Grunkle Mike also tried to kill me, you’re all I got left.”
A coughing fit ensued, a violent one, and it was a moment before he could continue.
“So I’m leaving it all to you. Everything. One hundred million bucks in cash, securities, bonds, and real estate.”
I choked, almost toppling off my chair.
“But there’s a catch.” Prince Guerino said, smiling. “Of course there is. There always is. I’m only leaving you one million bucks until you do me a little favor. Last page of my will is a list of guys who I want dead. And you’re gonna do it for me.”
“I’ll do no such thing!” I cried, before sheepishly realizing I was talking to a dead man.
“Now, I know what you’re thinking. Hell no. But here’s the thing: a lot of that money ain’t exactly legit. And you’ve been seen coming in here. I made sure of that with my lawyer friends. So if you’re too much of a wuss to do what I say, fine. But I think you’ll find my friends here have enough evidence to send you to the slammer for longer than Grunkle Paul if you don’t wanna play ball.”
Excerpts From Nonexistent Books 
Excerpts From Nonexistent Comments