More junk mail you decide as you toss the letter and all its bizarre contents in the trash.  Proud of yourself for being far to clever to take the bate at such an obvious come on from some unscrupulous con artist you only occasionally wonder, usually late at night while unable to sleep, if the letter was anything other than a scam.  Nah, it had to be phony, it couldn’t possibly have been real, and after all who ever heard of such a thing anyway.  People don’t just get letters in the mail telling them they have inherited some huge estate after all, you tell yourself over and over again as the years pass by.  It had to be like one of those foreign lottery frauds were you have to send money to get your prize.  Before you know it you’re sending in money for one small technicality after another just to receive a jack pot that doesn’t even exist.  Not you, you’re too smart to fall for anything like that, living in your small modest apartment with the crappy carpet.  Wondering what it must be like to live in a manor.  Nobody’s fooling you think to yourself as you softly mutter the name Dogbottom under your breath.