Whereas
(1) I frequently endanger my own life for the purposes of amusement.
(2) Therefore a last will and testament might come in handy.
(3) But I am too stingy/poor to hire a lawyer, yet may reasonably suppose that one of the thousands of people maligned by my writings every month probably attended at least a few years of law school before dropping out to become a professional bum.

I have decided to present here, my final will and testament, should I ever happen to become declared legally dead.

First of all, unless you're the person who was trying to kill me, don't immediately assume I'm dead. I'm a deep sleeper for one thing, and sometimes I pick odd places to take a nap. So I would like to request that you leave my body wherever it happens to be for at least three months before jumping to any rash conclusions about my mortality.

After three months has passed, you may proceed to embalm me and load me up in a coffin. If it's not too much trouble, I want it to be a spring loaded coffin that winds up like a jack-in-the-box, so that I pop out and make a loud noise of some kind. Then kindly ship me in unmarked packaging to my old high school Honors English teacher, Dr. Mages, with a list of teachers to be subsequently shipped to. (Essentially, I would like to be like a human chainletter._

If some legality crops up that prevents the distribution of my body to my old school teachers, I would like to be ground up and mixed in with the city water supply. There has to be some kind of sentimental meaning in that, I'm sure of it. Any parts of me you don't end up grinding up can be gifted to my neighbors. Just package them up in brown paper bags and leave them on their doorsteps. You can ring the doorbell and run away if you like, but I figure if I have any ghostly-manifestation as an incorporeal spririt after my death whatsoever that I will probably spend most of my time ringing their doorbells anyway.

As for the distribution of my possessions, my prized books can go to the library of my alma mater, New Mexico Tech, with an attached apology for the exploits of my attendance there and a request to name one of their Homeland Security contracts after me. Everything else should be liquidated by firesale, and the proceeds given to whatever nation/organization is deemed to be the greatest existing peril to world peace at the time.

Don't bother mucking with a funeral. I'm sure that if you just take the time to place a small obituary in the morning paper, an array of festivities will crop up all on their own.

The inscription on my tombstone should be as follows:
"Reemable for 50% off
any single-topping pizza
at Dominoes Pizza."

And hook me up with one of those little bells to ring if I'm accidentally buried alive. Preferably with some sort of automated ringing mechanism to creep people out.

Last note: fill my coffin up with macaroni pieces. Don't ask, just do it.