|main menu | forum | standard categories | authors | new stories | search | links | settings | author tools|
|A battle of wills (standard:drama, 2003 words)|
|Author: Robin Wyers||Added: Jul 31 2001||Views/Reads: 1651/678||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|A black comedy,examining the strategies that one might avail of, in order to acquire vast fortunes through inheritance.|
A battle of wills 1 Is he ever going to die? Yes, moralists perhaps to the naked ear that statement may sound a little harsh – ‘your own father?’ I hear you ask, but this man has been toiling with death for weeks and only his age old gift of blind luck is holding him in pieces. A roller-skate left suspiciously on the stairs! A normal person might have watched where they were going, especially someone who has been prone to discovering inanimate objects lying around them in threatening manners recently. A dimwit may have gone for a ride, and subsequently died – my father took that ride, got flung through the air and landed safely in his comfy chair. And I’m doing it again, aren’t I? I’ve got to get out of that bad habit of rhyming when I’m angry! But what can I possibly do? The man simply won’t undergo decease! Why should I relish the death of my poor aging father, entering the winter of his days, I hear you ask (you’re very nosey I might add)? Why can’t you be more like your sister who takes care of the old man day and night? You don’t even have to do that, but couldn’t you at least come and visit him more than once a fortnight? Well, as you presumably know, the computer industry is a competitive and fast-moving one, where fortunes may change hands in the blink of an eye. I’ve got to be there and make that blink and waiting that extra few months for the old man to kick the bucket simply isn’t feasible! Nothing has a long shelf life in my field and besides I have to get this plan launched before somebody else ‘borrows’ my mouth-watering idea! I mean the two of us have never really gotten on anyway, but blood is thicker than water - I’m sure he’s left me quite a bit anyways, I’d do the same for him despite our differences. Admittedly I’m partly to blame for these ‘differences’, as it was his dream that the business stayed in the family. But car manufacture is in the past now, computers are the growing sector and he can’t really blame me for wanting to try something different, can he? To be honest you have to admit that we would have gotten on a lot better if he would have lent me the money in the first place. In fact then I wouldn’t even have to take on any of these more drastic measures. I mean it’s not as if I’m asking for much is it? I only need a few grand to develop my game - the man’s loaded for Christ sake! It’s not as if it would have done him any harm, in fact if he’s really that stingy I could have given him back his investment five-fold, The Will to Kill as the working title for my strategy masterpiece is known, is bound to be a blockbuster. But he had to be difficult didn’t he? “I don’t trust you with all that money son, remember what happened last time?” he’d say. “But this time would be different, this time I’d be the winner”, but still the same negative response. No, hanging around this endless mansion isn’t much of a way to spend your Sunday afternoon, but perhaps today could be a luckier affair and by the end of the week, when the paper’s signed, I could be a rather rich man. Here he comes now, smile for the camera! “Hello father dearest, how was your drive?” 2 “It was grand, thank you for asking but what are you doing mooching around here Jimmy? Stop scheming for once in your life, and get up and do something useful”, I suggested. “Yes dear papa, in fact I was just about to have a check on what Doreen was doing with that whiskey” was his slimy reply. I don’t know what to say about that dear son of mine, but he’s up to something – always plotting and never working, the formula for trouble. For God sake – he’s in his mid-thirties and he still keeps popping up here every odd Sunday to scab a few quid off me. You’d think that by now he might have settled down to something more permanent than having to repeatedly come begging to his dad with another one of his wild easy money making schemes. I mean, Helen running out on him couldn’t have been easy, but that’s the reason she left him in the first place – he can’t settle down to anything at all, apart from these foolish quick fixes he keeps coming up with. I was amazed myself last month when he came over to me with some plan for a ‘console’ video game, in the hope that I might lend him twenty grand to launch his ‘venture’. “What’s this game about then?,” I asked. His detailed explanation was, “Basically it’s a game of cat and mouse, an attempt at out-smarting your opponent – searching for a weakness in their tactics. It depends how many’s playing, but say I was playing against you, Dad. We both choose a character - we might be siblings for example. We both have a wealthy aging relative with vast assets and therefore a substantial will. The two of us would battle it out to get into the relative’s good books, perhaps by undermining their opponent with little white lies or maybe through some simple ass-kissing. It doesn’t matter – as long as the relative becomes convinced that you are the rightful heir. Once the will is signed, you can simply wait until Click here to read the rest of this story (88 more lines)
Authors appreciate feedback!
Please vote, and write to the authors to tell them what you liked or didn't like about the story!
Robin Wyers has 4 active stories on this site.
Profile for Robin Wyers, incl. all stories
For a quick, anonymous response to the author of this story, type
a message below. It will be sent to the author by email.