|Here we have Mannequin Child doing what she does best... Standing in the corner creepily pointing off into the distance. She also happens to be wearing The Robe.|
At first thought, since I have 2 daughters and it would not be fair to chose only one of them to live the rest of their life in comfort and luxury, I had decided to be buried in it. But that would be most selfish of me. I mean, sure, I'd never part with it... My corpse would slowly rot into The Robe merging us as one. Just as I've always fantasized. Forever intertwined as we should be.
But, alas, that would be rather selfish of me. No one would ever know the gentle softness that is The Robe. Its like being hugged by clouds that were not made by Care Bears. Like... Legit fucking fluffy, white, non-evil clouds and shit.
No... Much like Rose from Titanic, this Robe needs to go on...
There was only one feasible solution. To split ownership of The Robe. It was then decided that Jazzy would take odd months, and Alyssa the evens. On the first of every month, the switch would happen. The sisters will need to meet in a public place of mutual choice. The Robe must be cleaned and fluffed (Professional Fluffer hiring would be optional). The Robe must also be gift wrapped in the most elaborate fashion possible. I'm talking gaudy wrapping paper and bows so ridiculous Martha Stewart would jizz in her pants.
But that's not all, my friends!! Oh fuck no, it isn't!
The Receiver of The Robe must then open it in the public place and cry out like they just won a bazillion dollars. The Receiver is then to share a story with a total stranger about why this robe is so special and why she is so excited to receive it.
And each time, the story must be different and totally ridiculous... Enough so to make me smile down upon them both, glowing with pride.
I already informed my girls that this will be written into my will. Hence, it must happen or they will burn in Hell for all eternity, or some shit.
|Needless to say, the girls cannot wait until I die...|