Ashes To Ashes, Dust To Dust

02.16.07 11 years ago 26 Comments

MMP: Dearly beloved, and Clint, we are gathered here today to pay the final respects of Ramon Guadelupe “Footsteps” Falco. Falco, though unassuming, was one of the charter contributors to this fine piece of contemporary literature. As fate would have it, his tenure and work were ravaged by ailments that, to this day, remain mysterious to us all. We don’t know why Falco was taken from us, he just kinda disappeared like a blonde tourist in Aruba. Was it cancer, syphilis, or maybe just an unhealthy obsession with his commemorative state quarters collection? We may never know.

Flubby would now like to say a few words.

Flubby: I would?

MMP: C’mon dude, it’s for Falco.

Flubby: [rolls eyes] Fine. [clears throat] Falco died, as so many of his generation, before his time. In your wisdom you took him, Lord. As you took so many bright flowering young men, at Khe San and Lan Doc and Hill 364. Falco was a shining example of changing with the times and remaining relevant. How many other people could become an NFL internet wiseacre of considerable renown after a successful pop-music career that culminated in his global smash hit “Rock Me Amadeus.” Once in Marrakesh, Falco and I were discussing the Hegelian dialectic when he remarked—-

MMP: Flub, this is the guy that used to blog with us, not the Austrian one-hit wonder.

Flubby: Really? He’s not the same dude as the singer? You’re sure?

MMP: Pretty sure, bro.

Flubby: Fuck me. You think you know a guy…

Ape: Yeah, I joined the site after he had already gone MIA, so I have little to no recollection.

Unsilent: Right, I think he only did one post that wasn’t a team preview.

Ufford: Maybe he’ll come back from the dead again, like he did for the opening day Pittsburgh bukkake.

MMP: Dicks. [sighs] And so, Ramon…Guadalupe…Falco, in accordance with what we think your dying wishes might well have been, we commit your mortal remains to the bosom of the short men’s room urinal in Penn Station, which, for no tangible reason, we suspect you loved so well.

Goodnight, sweet prince.

Drew: I hope he’s not actually dead, because that would make all our jokes about him being dead really awkward.

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