You're rich and famous and you're addicted to drugs. You also love to have sex with hookers and hang out with short-tempered people who carry guns. In short, you're going to die soon, probably in the five-star hotel where you've been living like a recluse these past few years. Most likely right there in your king size bed.
Knowing you don't have much longer to live since you're killing yourself with drugs has made you want to set your affairs in order. One thing you'd like to do is pay back the arts high school that started you in your acting career and is ultimately responsible for your stardom and your ability to buy so many drugs. Trouble is, you have one divorce waiting to settle and a previous divorce that's being contested. All of your money is frozen and you might die before you're ever liquid enough to make a donation that could make a difference to that school. But you can still afford to buy a king size bed.
"Sell me the bed," tell the hotel manager.
"But sir," he'll say. "This bed is included in your room fee. There is no need�"
"I'm going to die in it soon," tell him. "I want to make sure none of your vulture bellhops puts it up on eBay after I do. Sell me the bed so it's my property."
The manager will take $1000 from you in exchange for the bed. Next you have to change your will to indicate that the bed goes to Hardt School for the Arts after your body is rolled out of it. Finally, call the Dean at Hardt and tell him he's going to have quite a valuable asset in his possession in around three to five months unless you find Jesus or something. He'll thank you very much, then tonight he'll pray to Jesus to stay away from you so that you die in time for the school's charity auction in September.
Happy Memorabilia Day!
