Now I ain't saying she's a golddigger, but...
Transcript: Was it low and underhanded? Probably. Was it vile and wretched? Sure. But was it also deviously brilliant? Absolutely. In fact, it might have been Jamison’s best plan for a con yet.
The target: Mr. Cowden—old, no close relatives, and swimming gold like Scrooge McDuck. Thus, despite having already drafted his will, Mr. Cowden had yet to name a beneficiary. Furthermore, although Mr. Cowden had been in many romantic relationships, he had never been married, which meant that whoever did marry him—and it wouldn’t be for long at this point—would likely be entitled to the majority of his estate. It was a golden opportunity, no pun intended, just waiting to be seized.
Now as good looking as he was, Jamison highly doubted that he was the old man’s type, though of course, you never knew. Based on his extensive research however, Jamison had gathered that Mr. Cowden was quite partial to young voluptuous blondes. Rather than wasting his time trying to find the ideal female partner however, Jamison decided to create her.
Two months later, the mask and bodysuit had been honed to completion and Jamison had obtained all the necessary documents to establish ‘Miss Jenny Wagner’ as the legal resident of 451 Pinewood Drive and new neighbor to the elderly Mr. Cowden. ‘Jenny’ hadn’t had to wait long after that. Within days, she had been invited by Mr. Cowden to attend a private party at his estate, where she had stunned him in a flirty pink dress and played the part of the perfect girl: smart, witty, ravishing, and most importantly, available. Had Mr. Cowden’s heart had stopped for another beat he would’ve needed a defibrillator. The pair became an item within weeks. If balancing the carrot and the whip was an art, then Jenny was its Renoir. With relentless teasing and gentle pleasing, she had painted a seductive masterpiece. Four months later, Mr. Cowden had proudly announced their engagement while Jenny showed off her dazzling two and a half carat diamond ring. Another three months later, the two were married in a lavish, paparazzi-draped ceremony.
When it finally came time to lay Mr. Cowden to rest, his new widow bawled rivers for the cameras—it would be improper not to after all. Still, Jenny was sure she’d find a way to get over her grief soon. She still had eight hundred and seventy four million good reasons to help her move on after all.