When people think about wills, they usually picture tidy bequests to spouses or charities. But the top 10 weirdest last‑will demands ever recorded prove that some beneficiaries prefer a dash of drama, a splash of absurdity, or outright mischief. From canine fortunes to post‑mortem percussion, these eccentric instructions show that death can be just another stage for a grand finale.
Top 10 Weirdest Last Will Demands Unveiled
10 Seventy Names From the Phone Book
Luis Carlos de Noronha Cabral de Camara, a Portuguese aristocrat, lived a life of relative comfort but with very few personal ties. He owned a well‑stocked bank account, a twelve‑room flat, a house and several cars, yet he was a lifelong bachelor with no close family or friends. In a whimsically generous (or perhaps eccentric) move in 1988, he decided to split his modest fortune among seventy complete strangers plucked straight from a telephone directory.
Thirteen years later, when Luis Carlos finally passed away, the courts set his will in motion. Lawyers reached out to each of the seventy Lisbon residents, informing them that they would each receive one‑seventieth of the estate. Even divided, each share amounted to several thousand euros. Unsurprisingly, many recipients initially suspected a scam, noting the familiar “Nigerian Prince” vibe. Yet the calls were genuine, and for those seventy lucky Lisboans, an unexpected windfall arrived from a man they never met.
9 Eighty‑Million‑Dollar Dog
Karlotta Leibenstein, a German countess, inherited a colossal sum but had no children or close relatives to inherit it. Instead, she chose an unusual heir: her beloved pet, a Labrador‑Retriever named Gunther III. In 1992, the dog became the beneficiary of an $80 million trust, an amount that would soon dwarf the fortunes of many humans.
Because a dog cannot legally own money, a team of caretakers was appointed to manage the trust. They provided Gunther III with a life of opulent indulgence, while also investing the capital wisely. By 2019, the original $80 million had swelled to nearly $400 million. Although Gunther III has since passed, his offspring, Gunther IV, continues to enjoy the pampered lifestyle that only a millionaire canine could afford.
8 Make Me a Frisbee
“Steady” Ed Headrick, a World War II veteran and deep‑sea welder turned toy designer, is best known for inventing the modern Frisbee and pioneering disc golf. True to his playful spirit, Headrick’s will stipulated that his cremated remains be mixed into the plastic of a limited series of Frisbees.
His son, Daniel, recalled Ed joking for years about “living on as a Frisbee,” a quip that turned out to be a genuine wish. After Ed’s cremation, his ashes were incorporated into a special batch of discs. Some were gifted to family and friends, while others were auctioned for charitable causes, ensuring that Headrick’s legacy literally took flight.
7 Beam Me Up… Twice
Gene Roddenberry, the visionary creator of Star Trek, harbored a lifelong fascination with the cosmos that extended beyond storytelling. In his will, he requested that a portion of his ashes be launched into space, allowing his remains to drift among the very stars his shows celebrated.
In 1997, a Celestis rocket carried part of Roddenberry’s ashes into Earth orbit. Unfortunately, the satellite’s orbit decayed, and by 2002 the payload re‑entered the atmosphere, burning up on its fiery descent. NASA has pledged to send another payload containing more of his ashes, but as of now, that second celestial journey has yet to take off.
6 Display Me, Sir
Philosopher Jeremy Bentham, a towering figure of utilitarian thought, left explicit instructions for the handling of his corpse. He demanded that his body be preserved, seated in his familiar pose, clothed in one of his suits, and placed within a wooden box fitted with a glass front so that it could be displayed publicly for posterity.
Since his death in 1832, Bentham’s preserved form—dubbed the “Auto‑Icon”—has resided in various locations around University College London. Over the years, the display has suffered from poor preservation techniques and mischievous pranks, culminating in the replacement of his original head with a wax replica, which now remains securely locked away.
5 Keep It Warm for My Return
John Bowman, a 19th‑century tanner, amassed a sizable fortune and cultivated a loving family. After the tragic loss of his wife and both daughters, Bowman resolved to honor his kin even beyond the grave.
He commissioned a $75,000 stone mausoleum that doubled as a shrine, installing statues of his late wife and daughters inside, while a statue of himself ascended the steps, flowers in hand. Believing in reincarnation, Bowman anticipated that his family would someday return to their mansion.
To prepare for this imagined reunion, he set aside $50,000 for a custodian tasked with keeping the mansion ready. For six decades the caretaker kept the fireplace alight, placed a nightly dinner on the table, and ensured the house remained warm, awaiting the family’s spectral comeback.
4 The Ol’ Skin Drums
Solomon Sanborn, a proud Massachusetts resident who died in 1871, was deeply patriotic about his state’s Revolutionary‑War heritage. While he consented to donate his body to science, he made a singular request regarding his skin.
Sanborn had fashioned his own skin into two drums and gifted them to a close friend who was a drummer. He stipulated that each year on June 17th—the anniversary of the Battle of Bunker Hill—the friend should travel to the historic site and perform “Yankee Doodle Dandy” on the skin drums, keeping his patriotic spirit alive.
3 Ashes in Your Comic
Marvel stalwart Mark Gruenwald, a prolific writer, editor, and artist, was a lifelong comic‑book aficionado. In keeping with his devotion, his will directed that his cremated remains be mixed into the ink used to print a comic.
Following his wishes, the production team incorporated Gruenwald’s ashes into the ink for the first collected edition of his favorite series, Squadron Supreme. Those copies have become coveted collector’s items, regularly fetching high prices on secondary markets such as eBay.
2 Mandatory Seances
Harry Houdini, the legendary escape artist, spent much of his later years debunking fraudulent spiritualists. He and his wife Bess devised a post‑mortem test: whichever of them died first would attempt to send a coded message to the other via a séance.
Houdini’s will explicitly instructed Bess to hold annual seances in hopes of receiving the hidden message, thereby proving the existence of an afterlife. Bess faithfully conducted the sessions until her own death, yet no coded communication ever emerged, leaving the mystery unresolved.
1 The Great Stork Derby
Charles Vance Millar, a Toronto entrepreneur with a sizable fortune, died without close relatives. In a final act of mischievous generosity, he crafted a series of bizarre bequests designed to stir the city.
Among his eccentric clauses, Protestant ministers were granted shares in his brewery—a Catholic‑owned enterprise—and his Jamaican vacation home was bequeathed to three men who despised each other, on the condition they lived together. The most infamous stipulation, however, became known as the Great Stork Derby: the bulk of his estate would go to the Toronto woman who bore the most children within ten years of his death. This sparked a decade‑long baby‑making race that ended in a four‑way tie, each woman having given birth to nine children.