A wealthy old man, known for his eccentricities, passed away, leaving behind a vast fortune and a very peculiar will. His lawyer, Mr. Sterling, gathered the family in his office for the reading.
“As per the will,” Mr. Sterling began, clearing his throat, “the deceased has left his entire estate, including his mansion, his art collection, and all his liquid assets, to… his favorite pet parrot, Polly.”
The family gasped in outrage. “A parrot?!” exclaimed the nephew. “This is preposterous! We’re his flesh and blood!”
Mr. Sterling held up a hand. “Please, let me continue. The will states that Polly is to be cared for by a designated guardian, who will receive a generous annual stipend for the parrot’s upkeep.”
The family members immediately started clamoring, each volunteering to be Polly’s guardian, their outrage quickly replaced by avarice.
“And who is this designated guardian?” asked the niece, trying to sound innocent.
Mr. Sterling smiled thinly. “The will specifies that the guardian must be someone who truly understands Polly, someone who has spent countless hours listening to her, someone who knows her every phrase and nuance.”
He paused, looking directly at the family members who were now squabbling amongst themselves.
“And that,” Mr. Sterling concluded, “would be me.“
The family was stunned into silence.
“You?” stammered the nephew. “But why you? You’re just his lawyer!”
Mr. Sterling leaned back in his chair, a triumphant glint in his eye. “Because, you see, for the past twenty years, every time your uncle had a secret he wanted to share, or a complaint he wanted to voice, or a plan he wanted to discuss, he didn’t tell you. He told Polly. And Polly, being a parrot, repeated everything. And I, being his lawyer, was always in the room, taking notes.”