Life is but a passing shadow…

Does life really signify nothing? Is there a meaning to life, or is human existence just a random act of science that is created and destroyed without intended purpose? Is there a plane of consciousness beyond our mortal world? Will Lance ever be capable of toning down the sarcasm? These are questions that have mystified the ages, and yet, I doubt we will ever come to know the answers. Some things are beyond comprehension, and after many years of pondering the mysteries of the universe, I realize that it is much easier just to not give a sh**. So, without further adieu (takes a flourishing bow), I present, “The Last Will and Testament of a certifiable Alliance Pilot turned Rebel.”

Things? Belongings? Possessions? Redundancy? Now that I think of it, pretty much everything I own is in storage with Keith’s stuff back at the academy. I don’t think there’s anything too valuable in there though – clothes…pictures…conduct probation notices. When you guys go back, you can take what you want and donate the rest to The Lance Memorabilia Museum. People will come from as far away as the deep galaxies to pay homage to a fallen legend. (You guys can get in for half price though.)

I guess there is one thing of great value that I must designate a successor for - the leather jacket. Not the leather jacket…the leather jacket. Hey, just because I haven’t worn it for a while doesn’t mean that my affection for it has waned. Not at all, my friends. Oh, if that jacket could talk…the girls it would list.

Its plush leather texture, the way it hugs my body like a warm blanket in January, the smell of its fine, quality workmanship - I shall miss thee, my leather jacket. But we can’t take any of it with us, so I must find someone to care for it that I no longer am able.

Drum roll, please…

After many hours of soul searching, I have chosen Sir Pidge. For many reasons, I chose you, young friend, but most importantly, you have something the other’s don’t - the color green. Everyone knows that brown looks good with green. See, the jacket must be worn with style. You know, a certain flare. So, care for it well, friend. Rub it, oil it, hold it at night, give it love…and it likes to be read to. Maybe you can read to it those Playboys you’ve been stealing from me. And just for the record, those are Hunk’s, not mine.

Speaking of fantasies, I should leave something for the lovely Princess Allura to remember me by. Perhaps I should simply leave her with the memory of our stolen kiss under the lion monument that last warm June evening. *Waits for all to look at Allura with disbelief.* Okay, I’m kidding. I just wanted everyone to enjoy the look on Keith’s face. Poor guy. Even in death, it’s just so easy.

Seriously Princess, I’ll just go ahead and apologize for destroying Red Lion. You see, I’ve always known we would go together (Kitty cat and I, that is.). Not because I’ve crashed more alliance ships than any other pilot in history (a documented fact), but I’m simply that guy who needs a little bit more of a rush every time he gets behind the wheel of something. At this point, I’ve been so near destruction that the next step is to just dive in and feel what the ultimate rush is like. I know how strange that might sound, but I’m not alone in this philosophy. Allura, I’ve always thought that you were a bit of an adrenaline junkie in disguise. Otherwise, why would you always be putting yourself in danger on a more than regular basis? And why have you fought tooth and nail to pilot Blue Lion from day one anyway? I’ll tell you why - you’re a junkie, Allura - just like me. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anybody. Oops! I guess I just did. Now I’ve gotten you in trouble with Captain No-Fun over there.

Well, I am sorry about Big Red, and I hope she’s salvageable. If not, I hope you’ll rebuild her. Can’t survive without blazing sword, you know. But in all seriousness, whatever was done, I’m sure it was necessary. I’m reckless, but I’m not careless. There’s a difference, although maybe not in Keith’s eyes.

Keith. Hmmm… What shall I leave for my lovely assistant? Perhaps money, but since he makes TWICE as much as the rest of us do, I won’t bother him with the inconvenience. I guess I should leave my $$$ to someone though. Do me a favor and give whatever’s in my account to the Arus Orphanage Fund, and don’t let Allura say no; I have a feeling she might feel guilty about taking it. Tell her it’s what I want.

Pidge and Hunk. Are they just good friends? Are they brothers who were accidentally separated at birth? Are they ego and alter-ego of the same being? Again, questions that will go without answers. All I have to say to the both of you is…thanks for not pissing me off as much as Keith does. (And for not telling him it was me who accidentally pulled the castle alarm a couple months ago.) Don’t miss me too much, and don’t give my replacement a hard time, okay? I’ll cross my fingers for you that she’s hot, straight, and available.

Sven. I’m still wondering when you’re going to give up that fake accent. I know it gets the girls, but really, don’t you think it’s just a bit over the top? I mean, you’re from Ohio, for God’s sake. You think you’re so cool with your cute little girlfriend and that living near-and-not-in the castle nice guy routine. Well, just remember - you’re only a pilot, and she’s a princess. (*Laughs hysterically.*)

Nanny and Coran (a.k.a. Ma and Pa), thank you for your hospitality and good humor. You were able to deal with me much better than I would’ve originally thought. You’ve allowed me to ‘misbehave’ on occasion, and I appreciate that. Nanny, I’ll miss your cooking. Coran, I’ll miss leaving you to finish all of my data logs from the afternoon shift. Now, there’s something I won’t miss - my shifts at Castle Control. I mean, half the time I played video games anyway. Now that I think about it, I guess it’s a good thing nothing ever happened in the afternoons or there could have been a serious problem.

I guess I’m back to the Supreme Leader of All That is Anal and Righteous. Captain Keith, it has been a pleasure to serve under you (that sounded slightly Freudian), and I will miss having to consistently save your ass on the battlefield. Don’t blame my less-than-timely demise on yourself, although something tells me that you’re going to anyway. My will is something that can not be controlled or influenced in any way, a product of many things for which you need no further explanation. You’re a good friend, Keith and the only family I’ve ever had. Bury me here, Keith; I don’t want to leave Arus.

Enough of that… Now, I do have one more thing to leave for someone who’s very special to me. This little woman has gotten me out of bed in the middle of the night to get physical more than any other I’ve ever known. Do me a favor, Keith - make sure Haggar gets a pair of my boxer shorts (the red ones). Tell her they haven’t been washed since the last time I had them on, and tell her I don’t condemn her for having had a crush on me all these years. I mean, who can blame her?

Oh my, this was a good time. Thanks to everyone for your undivided attention, and I hope we can do this again sometime. Have a nice day.

Yours,
Sir Lance

P.S. Allura, I almost forgot to tell you something. Keith is completely in love with you and has been ever since he first laid eyes on you. Bye.