At last; help is here for the (suddenly) wealthy!

Saturday, I found myself in an all-too familiar situation: trapped in line at a so-called convenience store waiting for somebody to get their lotto game plan figured out. This happens to me all the damn time. If it's not lottery tickets, it's cigarettes. Heaven help me if they're buying both.

"Give me a pack of Lungblazer Lights in a box. No, that's a pack. No, those are ultra-filter kings. No, those are menthol. Oh, and also I need some Big Bux scratch-offs. No, those are Dollar Dillies. No, those are Koin Killerz. No, those are Money Munchers..."

One's a near-sure cause of cancer and the other's a near-sure cause of poverty. What difference does the packaging or flavor make? "Well, I think I have the right to enjoy the delivery system of my inevitable future misery". Oh, shut up. Both are bets for suckers. I don't know what it is about those two items that makes it impossible for somebody to just walk in and grab them without a detailed back-and-forth discussion, but I wish they'd establish separate stores that only sell them. Sure, you could expect to spend several hours trying to check out of there but it would free up the Circle K's and 7-Elevens for those of us who just want to pay for gas and a Coke and maybe a bag of Doritos before getting on with our lives.
The particular lunkhead I was behind on Saturday was spending $380 on an intricate assortment of scratch-offs, pre-chosen lotto numbers and computer-generated "quick picks". Aside from the overly-complicated purchase, he was also giving a seminar on his theory about being able to tell which scratch-offs were likely to be winners based on their position in the roll under the counter. This had the clerk and another lotto player mesmerized, as if this was their ticket (Pun! Ha!) to The Good Life. It would have gone on even longer than it did if the woman with an armload of snack foods behind me hadn't broken it up by declaring, "Hey, I'm kind of getting tired of holding all this stuff!". The clerk said, "you could have just set it down on the counter", missing the point entirely.

Lotto here in Florida seems to be more popular than ever, no doubt because of the recent $560 million Powerball jackpot, won on a ticket purchased in nearby Zephyrhills. As of yet, the undoubtedly freaked-out winner of that prize has yet to surface in public. Good call. I'm sure they're hunkered down, trying to come to grips with their newfound wealth and making plans for how to deal with all the inevitable, incidental changes to their lives. If part of that planning doesn't include faking their own deaths, they're making a huge mistake, because you just know their friends and families are doing exactly that, minus the faking part. I mean, that's how it works, right? Somebody wins a ton of money in the lotto and then their family plots to murder them. I'm pretty sure that's what happens.
If you Google "how to fake your own death", you'll mostly find advice designed to talk you out of it. In the event that the Zephyrhills winner is getting frustrated trying to find out how to do this, I have a solid 8-step plan to actually get it done right here. You know, as a public service.

HOW TO FAKE YOUR OWN DEATH (for lottery winners)

1. Conceal two Post-It notes and a pen. We'll cover why in a sec.
2. If there's some chump you want to pin with your murder, now's the time to leave some incriminating (is there another kind?) evidence behind. I'd recommend breaking into their home and writing "Oh dear God, please don't murder me for my lottery winnings!" in your own blood on the living (irony!!) room wall. Maybe something less wordy - you don't want to bleed out and die for real - but you get the idea.
3. Lay really still. REALLY still. Breathe out of your nose and close your eyes. Don't be ticklish. It might take a while but eventually, if you do it right, they'll assume you're dead.
4. When they take you to the morgue, they'll take your clothes off and put you in an examination room. Wait til you're alone and write "I already did the autopsy on this guy. Natural causes. Send on to funeral hone. Thx!" on  the Post-It and put it on your forehead. Be sure to include the "Thx!". Everyone is entitled to and appreciates courtesy.
5. When you get to the funeral home, same thing, wait til you're all alone and write "I already took out the guts and replaced them with wadded-up newspaper or whatever. Thx!" on the second Post-It note and put it on your forehead. (If you're an Egyptian prince, mention that your guts were placed in ornate clay jars because they do that there; it's part of how they make mummies.)
6. When you're buried, take out the cell phone you concealed... did I not mention that you need to do that? Oh shit. Go back to step 1 and add that because it's important. Also, you know where you have to conceal all this stuff, right? I shouldn't have to state something that obvious (your butt).
7. It's probably a good idea if you read these instructions all the way through once or twice instead of as-you-go.
8. When you're buried, take out the cell phone you concealed and call me so I can come and get you out of the ground.
9. Give me some of your money for helping you (you're welcome!) and go start a new life under a fake name.

HOW TO FAKE YOUR OWN DEATH (for non-lottery winners)

1. What's the point? Stop wasting everyone's time.