Just when you thought it was safe to go back in the water, bearded advertising dynamo Billy Mays up and dies on us. I’m not even joking. Details are incredibly sketchy at the moment, but so far there is no evidence to suggest Vince Offer (a.k.a. Vince ShamWow, a.k.a. Vince Slap Chop) had anything to do with his arch rival’s sudden demise.
Stop having tuna, stop having a boring life…stop having any kind of life at all. Goddammit.
So, what? Now we gotta start talking about Billy Mays in the past tense? That guy was just gettin’ warmed up. You got greedy, Death. There was no need to rob us of this era’s Crazy Eddie. I shall curse your name long and hard tonight as I drink Billy’s figurative blood from my 1983 Return Of The Jedi collector’s glass (from Burger King). Jabba shall glare at you disapprovingly, as he always does, and my teeth will grind as if King Arthur’s sword was betwixt them for sharpening.
You and me, Death, we gonna have some words.