THE MORMON MAFIA AND "ME"

CHAPTER THREE - The Estate Plan from Hell

In the first meeting with Craig McCullough in May 2013, my parents clarified their wishes to him and his law firm. All they desired was that each of their children would be treated equally, with their estate divided on a fair and equitable 33/33/33 basis; showing no favoritism. In retrospect, they could have written this request on a napkin and had it notarized for free. Instead, they have unwittingly paid millions of dollars in bribes to Kirton McConkie and the LDS Church, and lost every asset they paid the defendants to protect.

My statements are confirmed within the following pages of my parents' Living Trust, which was executed in 2013 immediately after my mother was diagnosed with cancer. This is the document spoken of earlier which was downloaded from the internet, and accomplished every need my parents had. How could Kirton McConkie sit in front of jury today and explain why there are now at least fifteen trusts with 90% of them being created without my parents' knowledge, and most of them which admittedly do not exist; even though they are showing as being the recipients of millions of dollars of unaccounted for funds.

The answer is that they cannot, and this is the reason they are unable to show their faces in a courtroom because they know the evidence proves they are guilty before they walk through the doors. Even though they have not been charged criminally, they have been caught committing felony crimes with all the evidence needed to send them to prison for the next millennium should anyone choose to prosecute them.

While the following few paragraphs contain very few words compared to the hundreds of pages prepared by Kirton McConkie and Craig McCullough, they are sufficient to state my parents' last wishes:

Under the instructions of the Old Switcheroo, this simplified document was unacceptable, since it thwarted the need for the family trust required to pull off this coup. Note that within the terms of this Living Trust, all that was supposed to happen was that upon both of my parents' deaths, each of the children were to receive their associated ownership in the estate with a distribution percentage of an easy-to-calculate 33/33/33 (remember my father is still alive today and yet his estate is gone).

It really was this simple. Instead of costing the initial investment of $49.99, Kirton McConkie has charged them over $250,000,000, not including interest and damages over the past decade. What a great deal, and what a great country we live in, where white collar criminals are protected from their victims because the Department of Justice considers people like my parents so vulnerable, because they are incapable of fighting for their rights which leaves the hogs to feast at their clients' trough.

Who would ever believe that there is an army of dishonest attorneys and leaders in positions of power that are contributing to the demise of democracy before our very eyes, and now with nobody left in the country to prosecute the largest theft in history? Does anyone reading this believe that I have spent the last five years attacking my own religious leaders and demanding justice because I want attention or to receive the largest settlement in history? Nothing could be further from the truth, and all I want is peace, calm, and for my parents' estate to be restored to its prior condition.

Rather than considering themselves lucky and grateful for the approximate $1 million dollars per month they should have been entitled to each month, my siblings felt invincible under the wings of McConkie, and decided that the estate plan they had devised for themselves was far better than the one desired by my parents. One can only imaging the euphoria Craig McCullough must have felt to become the hired assassin in return for replacing me as a beneficiary.

I had considered my sister Lisa my best friend on earth since I can remember, and never could have imagined her taking a dime more than she was entitled to from anyone. While taking care of my mother for the five years before she passed away, my sister and I would share a warm embrace after each day with a "love you" and a kiss on the cheek following a grueling day of helping our parents. Little did I know that she had already been stabbing a knife in my back and digging the associated grave, while plotting my demise for an unknown number of years.