Lord Howell is an engineer, gourmand and father of three.

DH: So, Dad, it true that your title is an “effective title,” which is tied to the legal deed for the land, not lineage?

LH: Yes. You won’t be lord by dint of being my son.
You have to have the land too.

DH: Have you written your will?

LH: Of course, everyone should have a will – even you – even though you think you’re immortal.

DH: I am immortal.

LH: Hate to break it to you, kiddo, you’re not.

DH: So, neither are you. So, there.

LH: You should have Freud on speed dial.

DH: So, am I in the will?

LH: Of course, you are.

DH: And I get the land, which comes with the title, right?

LH: Not as such. There are also you’re brother and sister to consider.

DH: My sister doesn’t want to be lord.
And she’s definitely no lady.

LH: Ahem. And you’re brother?

DH: Hold on, I’m thinking. I think the question to consider here is whether or not he really is my brother.

LH: I should hope so, he’s you’re twin.

DH: Or look-alike. How do we know he wasn’t raised to affect my manner as well as my mien?

LH: No one is that diabolical. Or unlucky.

DH: He’s getting the land, isn’t he?

LH: Like you, he’s getting what he deserves.

DH: Who, are you – King Lear?

LH: No, Daedalus, I’m you’re father.

DH: You sound like Darth Vader when you say that.

LH: That was the idea.

DH: If my brother gets the title,
I get Howell Mountain. Deal?

LH: It’s yours for the asking, you just half to figure out who to ask.

DH: Mom?

LH: Don’t let your ambition get the better of you, young man.

DH: Yeah, okay, Darth. I mean “Dad.”

LH: That’s Lord Dad to you.

DH: Happy Father’s Day, Lord Dad.