Little Morgan Gallagher

34- You wanna feel like a man?

     Long story short, our asshole cousin Patrick had already checked in Aunt Gingers will so now technically he has the right to our house. We're about to be homeless and now we had to figure out a way to get him off our asses.

     "Patrick wants to steal our house?" Carl asked from the table. "He's a contractor, gonna flip it, slap a coat of paint on it and call it a cozy, authentic pre-war and offload it to yuppies," I told him.

"Not gonna happen mouse, let's go over our options," Fiona said, making her way to the table as we all followed. "I'll write them down," Debbie added.

"Ok so we know the will is bullshit, it was signed a year ago and Gingers been dead for like 15 years," Ian said, sitting down.

"Option 1: prove will is a forgery," Debbie repeated, writing it down. "We can't call the cops because we faked Gingers death," Lip muttered.

"And we forged a will of our own," I added. "Plus Frank cashing her security cheques," Fiona added too.

"Like you didn't share in that bounty," Frank scoffed. "We could argue that Ginger wasn't of sound mind when she signed it," I suggested.

"Option 2: say Ginger was crazy," Debbie recited, scribbling it down. "Or convince Patrick to back off somehow," Jimmy piped in.

"Good luck with that, his nickname used to be pit bull, partly an odour thing but also because once he gets ahold of you he doesn't let go. You gotta kill him first," Frank butted in.

"Option 4: kill Patrick," Debbie repeated, writing it down and I saw Carl smirk at the idea.

"It's time to face reality, Patrick out Gallagher'd is a long time ago.. so before you're out on the streets like so many Somolian refugies.. if Patrick is taking the house, what are we taking?" Frank blabbered on.

We raised our eyebrows at him. "Copper pipes!" He exclaimed.

"You're not taking the pipes Frank," Fiona snapped at him before turning to Lip, "you really think there's a way to challenge the will?"

"Why not? I mean if I can bone up on probate law," he replied.

"All in favour?" I asked, as we all raised our hands. "Unanimous!"

***

I sat at the table with my siblings and Mandy, discussing what we were gonna do next when Fiona walked in.

     "We've reconvened the cousin Patrick War council," Lip told her as she looked confused. "No luck on the legal front?" She asked.

     "No, turns out it's hard to prove someone had dementia when the signed a will. In our case very fucking hard."

     "Coz she was already dead," I added.

     "We're on option three, convince Patrick to back off," Debbie said. "Or option four, kill Patrick," Carl grinned.

     Fiona ignored Carl's statement, "convince him how?"

     I made eye contact with Mandy, nodding my head at her, giving her the cue to tell Fiona her idea. "We get my brothers to go round there and scare him a little," Mandy grinned.

     "No way, enough with the brothers Milkovich," Fiona argued.

     "Nothing fatal, hit him with a bat a couple times, a little pistol whipping," Mandy replied. "They'll want 500, but if I help Mickey moving some meth next week he'll settle for two."

     "It's a discount beating," I smiled.

     "Guys we can't-"

     "We need a house," Ian cut her off. Fiona sighed, hesitantly pulling money out of her pocket and handing it to Mandy.