[monster]

In my distress, I was unable to write a eulogy of my own, so I asked Sheldon for help. I believe he may have been inspired by a certain playwright

Alas, poor LJ! I knew him, Undertoad: a fellow
of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy: he hath
borne me on his cock a thousand times; and now, how
abhorred in my imagination it is! my gorge rims at
it. Here hung those lips that I have kissed I know
not how oft. Where be your gibes now? your
gambols? your songs? your flashes of merriment,
that were wont to set the table on a roar? Not one
now, to mock your own grinning? quite chap-fallen?
Now get you to your lady's chamber, and tell her, let
her paint an inch thick, to this favour she must
come; make her laugh at that.