Post-Death Collection Plans: And the Winners Are…

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I really, really need to get to the post office and mail about two months worth of TR shirts to winners (sorry about that, people who won!) so please forgive me if I keep this brief. Lots of good entries, and it’s nice to know that many of you will be giving your collections to good causes, donating them (or their cash value) to charities, or, like El_Fez, already have, and earn a special HM for his deeds. And another special HM to Stevo, who had most of his comic collection stolen by kids. His response? He found the kids, gave them the rest of his comics, and a copy of How to Draw Comics the Marvel Way, and told them to share the love. It’s an amazing story, and well worth reading — and please, follow Stev0 and El_Fez’s example, not example of the entries on the next page. They’re fun readin’, though.

After I die, I want these Honorable Mentions to be read aloud at my funeral. Sure, it’ll confuse people, but I’ll be dead, who gives a shit.


Just after they announce me dead, all my friends and family get at least one of my dice to do a savings roll for me.


Get my brother to give out all of my statues/figures as party gifts at my funeral. I also don’t want a traditional funeral…I want a to be set on a bonfire and set ablaze Star Wars style. There should be lots of kegs so that everyone gets drunk and breathes in my fumes.


My biggest collection is my books. I have lots. They are what I spend my money on. They’re not necessarily collector’s items, but they’re important to me. I love them. If I were to go with a sane answer to this question, I would say that I would like them to be donated to libraries – there are some schools on reservations in my neck of the woods that don’t have much, and they definitely don’t have books. I’d like to share them with kids who wouldn’t otherwise have much of a chance to enjoy them.
But this contest isn’t about the sane. So instead, I would like to spend the last years of my life devising an elaborate game, Ready Player One-style, that anyone who wanted my books could play. It would include trivia and quotes and knowledge of the authors within the collection. The books would be locked in a vault within a 30-story office building, and the players would have to pass challenges on each floor. When they reach the top floor, which is where the vault would be, there would be nothing guarding it – just a passphrase that they must say in order to unlock the vault. What would this passphrase be?
“Speak friend, and enter.”


Good question: what will I do with my garbage.
I s’pose (entry 1) I’d make my coffin out of my less valuable comic books. Say, a paper mache coffin for me to rest in. Reinforced, of course — don’t want me falling out of the bottom in the church, now would you? (Funny, though it may be, it’s legit, esp. if it’s raining.) It’d be the best looking coffin ever, would totally speak to me, and would reduce the amount of garbage my family would have to rummage through. Hell, even put the “Death In The Family” TPG on the tombstone, featuring Jim Aparo’s legendary TPB cover.
For the more valuable ones (if there are any in there), I’d get someone to sell them, simple as that. I s’pose — I’ll be dead (for a while).


Of course I would donate my collection to shelters and needy children/families. My Japanese hentai collection, that is.


I have lots of random nerd things but no real collection so I guess I would do they only Sensible thing and have my lawyers contact a massive bunch people who are interested in certain peices of my collection.
Get them all in one place and annouce NERD FIGHT! Rules are you want something you and everyone else who wants it does a last man standing.
As I have a load of rubbish there will be a ton of fights. All done one after the other.
There will be food and drink and betting stations all proceeds go to charity and hospitol bills.


I collect movies. I’m a movie geek. I have at least a short ton of DVDs. Assuming money is no object, I’ll keep getting every possible DVD/Blu-Ray ever pressed.
When I die, I’ll lay in state at the North Pole. And all my DVD/Blu-Rays will cover that location. Like a funeral shroud.
Only, I’ll make sure the reflective side is facing up. Towards the Sun.
When I die, I’m taking Global Warming with me.


I have quite a vast array of action figures, most of them Spawn-themed. I’d like for them to be present at my funeral, and for my family to deliver their eulogies whilst being them; i.e. moving them around and talking in their voices.


My Role Playing Book Collection will be used in a S?ance to summon my undead wraith to DM sessions.


I want to be buried in a coffin made of LEGO. I’m taking my collection with me, or actually it’s the other way around.


At the reading of my will it will be announced that my entire Bowen statue and bust collection will be given to Rob Brinken in remembrance of that time I won a tee-shirt in a Topless Robot contest. It may have even been this contest that sparked that change in my will.

My collection consists mostly of books and dvd. When I die, I want all of them to be digitized, and then my estate will buy a large assortment of ad slots on TV and ad spaces in sports venues. Random bits of the digitized content will be displayed prominently, and cycled on weekly basis. Going to a baseball game? You will see a couple pages of Hellsing near the batter. Watching Jeopardy? You will see a 1 minute clip of samurai champloo during commercials. No reasons will be given in the ad, no sponsors mentioned. Just random comics and cartoons coming at you, for no apparent purpose.

I will make sure that it is mentioned in my obituary, that I was buried with the most valuable comics in my collection.
Then when someone goes to he trouble of digging me up, they will find a bunch of Marvels New Universe comics and a note that says ” Please shut the door on the way out”
Embarrassed that went to all they trouble for nothing, they will leave the comics and not tell anyone.
I figure I’ll be dug up every few years by treasure hunters.

Collection one: dice. All of the d4 will be separated out and spread across a concrete floor which must be crossed barefoot. In complete darkness.
Collection two: warhammer miniatures. These will be placed right on the edges of very rickety shelves, set up much too close together and arranged as a maze. This room must be crossed without damaging a single model.
Anyone tough enough to survive the d4 caltrops, and careful enough to bypass the plastic labyrinth shall win possession of collection three: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic blind bag ponies.

Ben Cohen:
All of my Godzilla-related items will be placed around my tomb. Thousands of years from now, archeologists will discover it and assume I commanded an army of monsters.

I would take all my Transformers and turn them into a 100ft high Devastator, balls included. I would then buy the property adjacent to Michael Bay’s house and erect said Devastator right on the property line between the two houses. Whenever the wind blows the balls will clank and he will forever be reminded of his shame of a movie.
And once a week I will have the Beef show up and sit on Devastator’s shoulder and spend the day screaming.

Trebuchet the Star Wars collection in a siege of Skywalker Ranch.

Big Jim Slade:
The most….cumbersome of my collections is my Lego collection. They just don’t store as well as my 1000+ dvds. When I die, I will arrange to have all of my Lego minifigs sold on ebay (as they are consistently going for more than the actual sets). That money would go to charity.
With that piece of good will out of the way, I would then have all of my currently assembled sets disassembled and taken to the house of that kid who bullied me when I was young. I’d have someone steal all of his shoes while he was sleeping, and I’d have them pour all of my lego bricks over his floors. I would have him locked in his house from the outside so that he couldn’t escape. Then I’d sit up on a cloud in Heaven and laugh and laugh as this little bastard would be stepping on legos for the rest of his life.

John Jeb Brenden Whitlock:
My grave and corpse will be encorporated into a giant diorama for my Masters of the Universe Classics collection, the crowning focal point of which will be a standing headstone designed to replicate an in-scale Castle Grayskull which encorporates my actual skull into the front of the castle. The MOTUC figures will then be installed into the diorama in the most awesome battle scene ever. All non-collection possessions else will be sold to provide for a velvet security rope and around the clock security.
Can’t take it with you my ass.

As for my (sons’) Super Hero Squad figure collection, I would have them permanently placed on skyscrapers around New York City, so if people looked out their office window, they’d be surprised by a tiny Spider-Man or Doc Ock. I’d have some posed in battle and some in specific spots – Doctor Doom over the doors to the UN, Thanos with his Infinity Gauntlet overlooking the city from the Empire State Building, Captain America at Ground Zero. Nightcrawler would be different, though – he gets buried with me.

When I die I will leave instructions for the executor to ask this question at the formal reading of my will: “What is the air speed velocity of an unladen swallow?”… The first one of my family or friends to shout out “What do you mean an African or a European Swallow?” will get my complete nerdy collection, as they will have proven themselves worthy.

When I die, I will have my remains placed within a vast mausoleum filled with traps. If anyone finds their way to the main crypt, they will find row upon row of action figures, all facing west. Let them wonder.

A Girl Named Michael:
I would command that upon my death, my entire Star Wars collection would be displayed in a Great Glass Hall, in all its glory for the world to see..but in a twist of vicious, cruel irony, every single original trilogy toy and collectible would be opened, boxes crushed, and each figure played with- vigorously- while what few prequel pieces I have would be unopened, mint, and utterly pristine. Oh, the tears that shall be shed! *Insert evil laugh here*

X X:
I have two boxes one contains all of my good action figures the other contains the worthless x-men toy biz action figures form the 1990s. You can not tell what box contains which figures, and you are not allowed to open the boxes or scan them to see what is inside them (x-rays ect). Then you can only pick one box of the two and the other gets donated to the salvation army.

Ed Lipinski:
My vintage Masters of tthe Universe collection will be rounded up and sold at a garage sale by my mother, just like my original collection was in 1992. The prices will be the same and the catch is that after each figure is sold, someone tells her what the current value of said figure, playset, or vehicle is. A running total will be kept and the difference in price will be donated to The Hero Initiative out of her share of my life insurance. Mother can keep the garage sale money, since selling my toys was so damn important to her.

I want the front row of chairs at my funeral to be Lego chairs with my mini fig. collection sitting in them.

I would certainly give away all of my toys to children in need – I’d probably partner with a children’s charity or maybe someone dedicated to kids’ philanthropy like Ronald McDonald House, or TOMS.
All of my toys, except my McFarlane figures.
Like many of you, I bought a lot of Spawn and other McFarlane figures in the 90s and early 00s, and spent way too much of my money on them, every last blasted Spawn variant, crappy spiky big-booted action figures that take up too much space in my collection and are now worth precisely…(checks pricing guides) (checks Ebay completed auctions)…yep, thought so. Nothing. Absoluttely nothing.
So, since most of my McFarlane toys collection is bulky, spiky, worthless and falling apart on its own, I’d leave directions to have some fun with it after my passing. I’d hire burglars to break into Todd McFarlane’s house and steal his 6 million dollar baseball. You know the one. I’d assign a team to carefully yet securely glue all of my McFarlane figures – spiky boot sides out, preferably – to the ball until I have a huge, heavy, spiky ball of mass destruction. Then I’d have that ball rolled down a long steep ramp right at McFarlane’s house.
And of course I’d tell him exactly what was in the middle of that giant worthless spiky ball of doom.

When I have a kid, I’m going to make him armor and a warhammer out of my old Yu-Gi-Oh and Pokemon cards. I’m naming him Thundor, Slayer of Souls.
It was a damned tough choice, but here are the winners:

There would be a special table in my will for my D&D collection:
1 – Burned in a Fiery Pit
2 – Sits in the long forgotten closet
3 – Killed by dragons
4 – Used to make wobbly tables around the world sturdy
5 – Gygax paper mache bust
6 – Donated to Children who can’t read good and wanna learn to do other stuff good too
7 – Used to begin a religion
8 – Monster Bestiary Safari Guide Book
9 – Used to promote the “From NPC to Hero” self-help guide
10 – Makeshift Coffin
11 – Hobbit Halfling stat guide
12 – Thrown into an endless chasm
13 – Horde of Goblins!
14 – Undo the harmful effects of any recently cast spell
15 – Used against zombies during the inevitable apocalypse that is started by my death
16 – Used as a reference guide for D&D 24th ed.
17 – Shot into space
18 – Help create useless tables
19 – Used to make a good D&D movie
20 – Given to my grandchildren

What can I say, I’m a sucker for a goof D&D chart. I also especially like the results that make no sense when you remember this is a chart to determine what to do with Hgralb’s D&D collection, e.g. “killed by dragons.” Makes me giggle.


I want my many, many favorite Transformers melted down in a vat into one big pool of plastic. Some of the plastic will be poured into a mold of the Autobot Matrix of Leadership, which will be inserted into my chest using rib-spreaders after the autopsy. Then my body will be sewn up and dipped in the rest of the molten plastic and removed. After the plastic has dried to a hard shell, custom car painters will take me down and paint my body to look like Optimus Prime. I will then be placed in a concrete crypt that reads, in the Transformers typeface, “‘One Shall Stand, One Shall Fall’ – Here Lies The Last Prime.”
Of course, all that happening is conditional upon my non-geek wife agreeing to it, but I can’t imagine why she’d object.

Truly, 5318008 shames us all with his absolutely insane vision. The fact that only his mortician would know about the Matrix of Leadership inserted into his chest cavity is a highly impressive touch.

And that’s that! Congrats to the winners, and thanks to everyone who entered. And if you have a suggestion for the next TR contest, I certainly wouldn’t mind if you emailed it to me.