Kilimanjaro. Day four.
They're passing lava tower today.
Courier dropped this off for me last night.
Apparently, Arthur Pickering has never heard of a PDF before.
Okay, look, if it sounds like I am being overly critical of poor Arthur Pickering...
I am. Okay?
I've grown up with him since I was a kid.
He's always been very good at the things that my parents wanted me to be good at.
And he never let me forget it.
We're like frenemies.
Just without the friends part.
Okay, like one time in the sixth grade, we all had to write essays
on just randomly assigned topics in US History.
I get Eli Whitney and the cotton gin.
I get a bad grade because it was an invention
and not a gluten free alcohol.
Well, Arthur claimed that he was so interested in the topic and asked to read it.
But what he really did?
Was he took it, he made a thousand copies,
and then he shoved it in every single locker in the entire school.
What sixth grader has those kind of resources?
Deep breaths.
Count to ten.
You are far more attractive than he is.
So, the will.
You want to know what's really been bothering me
is that I'm listed as the sole beneficiary.
And, okay, so let me clarify this really quick
because you're probably wondering.
Donni is my cousin on my mom's side.
My aunt is my dad's sister.
Right?
My aunt's always been wealthy.
Like really wealthy.
But the total sum of her assets is really low.
Not destitute, but like Netflix, Amazon and Hulu,
they're gonna have to battle it out.
And I'm not being ungrateful.
Trust me.
If anybody knows about money just flying out of your hands,
it is Jack Marshall.
I just want to know where it went.
And where is it now?
And you know even more than the money,
and I don't know if we talked about this yesterday,
or I just missed it because I was pretending
like I wasn't stuck in a room with Arthur Pickering for three hours?
This Olivia Armstrong,
she makes a curtain call.
Here we go:
In the event of the marriage of Jack Marshall and the said Olivia Armstrong
or in the event of any promise or contract of marriage between said
persons within five years...
Blah, blah, blah...
Here we go, the whole estate shall become the property
absolutely of St. Agatha's College which neighbours the estate.
Naturally, since she's mentioned multiple times in the will,
you'd think, I don't know,
maybe I'd be a little curious about her.
Well, I am.
How old is she?
How does she know my aunt?
And why is she in my aunt's will?
Unfortunately, there are multiple Olivia Armstrongs on social media.
I just, I don't understand why my aunt would put
her so prominently in the will if she was leaving her nothing.
But my aunt was a little eccentric. So.
So, let's recap.
Don't leave the house for a year.
And don't hook up with anyone that I've just never met.
Got it.
Oh, hello little friend.
Well, apparently Arthur has heard of a PDF.
Not that that makes him any less of a tool.
I mean, seriously? A thousand copies.
Oh.
It's a video.
Jack, my boy, I hope this message finds you well,
because if you're seeing it I'm not doing so well.
Well, at this moment, I'm in Argentina.
I wanted to learn to tango.
So, I decided to go to its birthplace.
We Marshalls don't do anything halfway.
Right, Jack?
If I'm gone, well, then
Arthur has already read to you the terms of my will.
And you're probably thinking, oh, so unnecessary.
Burdensome.
Maybe that I'm a little crazy.
But I assure you, I'm doing this for a good reason.
When your parents passed 15 years ago, oh,
it was difficult on both of us.
But especially me because you were not exactly the most perfect, easily-obedient child to raise.
But, boy, did we have fun together.
Scavenger hunting.
Rocket building.
Sunday crossword puzzles.
You wanted to see life
and you wanted to feel it and touch it all at once.
But some things aren't meant to be given.
They're meant to be earned.
This house, it needs a warm body in it.
Your attention.
Your love. Your care.
Your time.
So, start this for me.
Finish it for you, Jack.
I promise you, you will be so happy.
It is so worth it.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I must go tango.
Bye, Jack.
Goodbye, Aunt Jo.
Well, at least now we know where the money is.
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