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The death of the billionaire Bishop of Bristol made headlines in The Guardian newspaper. The magnate who contributed to Great Britain’s massive wealth after World War II, died from natural causes. In fact, none of his family members were astonished when they learned of his demise.
Bristol did not have a large family like so many of his affluent aristocrats; he had only two children, their companions and four grandchildren. Bristol taught his children James Bristol and Mildred Bristol Chichester important family values to live by. In their world, what people thought of you was your bread and butter. Consequently, James and Mildred raised and taught their two youngsters the same way. Be that as it may, among the four grand-kids, was 35-year-old Andrew, James' youngest child, the family's black sheep.
Burning the family's money on cars, drugs and women, James and his wife Annabelle, at a point thought that cutting ties would force Andrew to realize he was living a reckless life and possibly get him to change. Unfortunately, such way of thinking is now in doubt due to Andrew's latest scandal. The police uncovered Andrew was the owner of a London brothel that specialized in the prostitution of young women, especially teenage girls. A notable heiress was among the girls caught, it was rumored/alleged she joined willingly, nonetheless, the scandal caused the Bristol family much embarrassment. Working with the greatest lawyers in London, Andrew closed down the brothel and escaped with no punishment.
Andrew caught wind of his granddaddy's death, he celebrated in light of the fact that he was to inherit a great deal of cash.
James, now the head of the family, called for a family gathering; the will was to be read. Granddaddy stated in his will his grandchildren would acquire his fortune. Every one of his four grand-kids, Olivia, Alice, Arthur and Andrew, would each get five hundred million pounds. After the will was read, the grand-kids were informed that their cash would be deposited in to separate trust accounts. Despite that, Andrew was informed his cash would be available later.
"What?!” he exclaimed, “Why can’t I have mine like the others?!" he inquired.
The attorney picked up a file and pried through it. The deceased tycoon documented special Instructions for Andrew. The document specifically stated that William would have to wait for a total of nine months before he can receive his portion of the trust. But, the attorney had been instructed not to read the rest to William until after nine months had ended.
Andrew became frantic. He cussed out the attorney and his family, then stormed out of the building. Nine months later, the attorney called Andrew for a private meeting and gave him the remaining information on how to collect his inheritance.
"Your granddad needs you to travel to Ombersley, Worcestershire, there, you would be given your inheritance, in cash, here is the address”, the attorney passed on a file to Andrew.
Andrew so excited, called the airline to reserve a spot. Shortly before flying out, he made some decisions and proceeded to make a few phone calls.
“Hey doll”, he spoke in excitement, “I'll be leaving to get my money.”
“Don’t bother calling me if you don’t get nothing” she spoke irritated.
“Don’t worry love, I won’t disappoint you,” he hushed her while sniffing white powder he stored in a small compartment, “Tell Nikki to place seventeen large on The Stallion tomorrow,”
Just after touch down, he took a train to Ombersley, Worcestershire, then flagged down a taxi. Passing a piece of paper that had on it an address, the cabbie asked him for what good reason he was going there. Andrew lied, saying he was there to offer his financial expertise to the Bishop.
The cabbie with a thick English accent laughed and said, "That is a heavily guarded place..... them got lots a cash! You'll like it if you need a lotta cash!"
Andrew said nothing, ignored the cab driver and sat at the back of the taxi, momentarily looking out the window as he battles with how he was going to spend his inheritance.
Several miles later, the taxi cab halted before a mansion. “Could all this be mine,” Andrew thought “all the wild parties I’m going to throw will make me a legend’
In the wake of paying the cabbie, the driver said in an annoying sarcastic laugh, "break a leg young chap," and drove off laughing.
Andrew analyzed the structure. He moved forward to the vault-like entryway and thumped. A radio turned on and a profound voice said, "Who is it?"
"I'm Andrew... Bristol." There was a delay, then, at that point, some talking.
Once more, a similar voice came on. "Could it be said that you are Bishop of Bristol’s grandson?"
"Indeed. That is me."
"We've been anticipating you. After the bell, open the entryway!"
A bell sound radiated from the entryway and William battled to push open the humongous gate. Two men dressed like gatekeepers stood at the entryway, resembling bronze statues. One of them said,
"Follow us!"
Andrew followed the watchmen to the side of the humongous mansion, down a set of steep steps to a storm cellar. As the cellar doors slowly opened, they walked into a huge room with two machines suspending metallic hooks. Just below each machine was a giant vessel filled with piles of money, six feet deep and several inches wide.
"What is this?!" Andrew hollered.
"Your bequest, Andrew! There are half a billion pounds in this vessel. They don't surrender the packs of cash easily, so you should work diligently to accomplish this task." A sound came out of the speaker. Andrew perceived the voice. It was his granddad. The voice proceeded, "This is the very thing you harvested from carrying on with a useless, ravenous existence." Andrew realized it was only a recording of his granddad before he died.
"As you can see, the machines' claws must be operated by you. To get any of the money, you must put in a pound to activate the machine and the claw will move over to grab hold of cash which is wrapped into packs of one hundred- in one pound bills. Then, using the controls, you have to move its claws to pick up one pack at a time. It's not as easy as it looks, is it, William?"
Andrew's face beamed red “you fucking bastard,” he shouted, pummeling his clench hands on the entryway. The recording proceeded. "You can't break the machines to take anything, if you do, an alert will ring out, the gatekeepers will hurl you to jail and your inheritance will be forfeited."
The watchmen turned their backs to head out of the room, shutting the cellar doors behind them, leaving Andrew alone.
A few hours later, in his sweat drenched cloths, Andrew collected himself and tried to use one of the mechanical devices to get the bundles of cash. But despite his best efforts, he was unable to operate the claws to seize the bundles of cash. Andrew started devising a plan when he was down to his last pound.
Using the heel underneath his boot, he broke a compartment on the side of the machine. Breaking off the flimsy plastic covering, seeing the space was large enough for the human body, he proceeded to physically wiggle his way through a small compartment in the machine that will get him into the cash filled vessel. Lowering himself into the vessel, he took as many pound notes as his duffel bag could fill. He didn't go very far after that.
A day later, the headline in the Guardian midday edition read, "Idiot Heir Arrested For Stealing Inheritance Money."
THE END
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