An Exclusive Look At Logan Roy's Last Will And Testament

I, Logan Roy, being of sound mind and body, do hereby declare this document to be my last fucking will and testament. I hereby revoke any and all other Wills and Codicils made at any time heretofore by me. After a lifetime of withstanding varying levels of betrayal and incompetence from all angles, I will be no less than relieved to take my own advice and fuck off.

As the founder of Waystar Royco, I have devoted my career to giving people what they want, even when they don’t know they want it — even when they are afraid to realize it’s what they want. As I approach the end of my life, I want to ensure that my arrangements and fortune are handled in a manner that is consistent with this legacy.

Section I – Executor

I appoint my best friend, Colin, whose last name I do not know, as the Executor of this will. He’s good people.

Section II – Disposition of My Estate

First and foremost, I leave 80% of my shares in Waystar Royco and all the associated responsibilities as my heir to the company to REDACTED FOR PRIVACY.

I bequeath the entirety of my estate to the Roy Family Trust, including but not limited to all real property, personal property, investments, cash, and REDACTED BECAUSE IT’S NONE OF YOUR FUCKING BUSINESS. My trust assets are to be distributed as follows:

  1. I transfer ownership of all vehicles owned by the Roy Family Trust to my son, Kendall Roy, who has a history of car troubles. I also give him 5% of my shares in Waystar Royco, as well as all my clothing and jewelry in case he decides to stop dressing like that.
  2. To my daughter, Siobhan, I leave 5% of my shares in Waystar Royco and a controlling interest in ATN so she can continue to play politics and tyrannize her jelly-legged husband.
  3. I give my son, Roman Roy, 5% of my shares in Waystar Royco and the sum of $100 million dollars, which I am confident will cover at least some of the psychological evaluations and subsequent therapy he requires. This disbursement shall not extend to Roman’s wife and child, who we haven’t even heard about since the first episode of season one.
  4. To my son, Connor Roy, who is equally as important to me as my other children, I leave 2% of my shares in Waystar Royco. He can also have my books or something.
  5. To my loyal assistant Kerry Castellabate, I leave 3% of my shares in Waystar Royco and direct that she be given a primetime spot on ATN, subject to the approval of ATN leadership and a suitable focus group.
  6. I give my wife, Marcia Roy, wherever she is, a yearly allowance of $1,000,000 and a lifetime right to occupy and use our Manhattan penthouse if she ever comes back. Perhaps more importantly, I also give her the peace of mind that I’m fucking dead.
  7. To my brother, Ewan Roy, I direct that a $50 million donation be made to BP PLC in his name. Tell them to name an oil rig after him or something.
  8. To the board members of Waystar Royco, I leave a sum of $1 each to help them pull their cocks out of my dead mouth.

Section III – Funeral Arrangements

In addition to the above, I also leave the following instructions regarding my funeral and final arrangements: 

  1. Keep my funeral cheap and small, like Shiv and Tom’s wedding. Parties are for small-dicked narcissists, and if my funeral is anything like my birthday, my children won’t bother to show up anyway.
  2. Cremate me, you fucking hyenas.
  3. If my family members express any interest in my personal belongings, including any art, jewelry, or other horseshit, these items are to be sold at auction. The lowest bidder is fine.
  4. I request that a memorial be erected in my honor at the headquarters of Waystar Royco and another memorial be erected directly facing the estate of my ex-wife, Caroline Collingwood.

I would like to express my gratitude to all those who have helped me build Waystar Royco into the powerhouse it is today, but unfortunately the list is blank. I would also like to express heartfelt feelings toward my family, although the feelings are mainly disappointment and regret. Congratulations, you idiots. You’ve finally killed me.

In conclusion, I hereby declare this to be my last will and testament. I once said that the future is real; the past is all made up. As I take my rightful place in history, I bequeath one last thing upon the entire world: a warning. I may be gone, but my legacy and the enduring power of Waystar Royco will not wane in my absence. Now leave me to rot and fuck off.

Jules Zucker
Jules Zucker
Jules is a music supervisor and writer based in Brooklyn, NY. She’s probably losing a game of pool as we speak.