Friends,
It is my sad duty to inform you that Professor Cramulus has left us. It seems that he was found stabbed to death by what appear to have been syringes, in a filthy alley in New York City. While he may have been poked to death by junkies, it is worth noting that the building adjacent to the alley where he was found houses a diabetes support group.
Nobody's really sure how he got to NYC, as he was last seen eating a bowl of "Sugar Coated Chocolate Bombs" in the breakroom at his place of employment, and police are looking into the possibility that he was "abducted by freaks". Cainad has been named as a "person of interest".
Professor Cramulus was an esteemed colleague of mine, and the field of Assbaggery anthropology will not be the same, now that he's gone. It is said that in his home town of ______, children weep and old people just shake their heads sadly, and say "Just like old John Dillinger, I tell ya! Now we're gonna have to break up our stills."
They're running out of heroes in the hills of upstate New York, and with Professor Cramulus gone, the population will be at the mercy of revenuers, roving gangs of diabetics, and cancer babies. Truly, it is the end of an era for them, and they may even have to move to civilization before the upside down people find them.
Cramulus will be interred in the time honored rural New York fashion...That is to say, his remains will be UPSed to an illegal landfill in the pine barrens of New Jersey. He will be buried with his mustache, pipe, and the Browning Automatic Rifle he loved so dearly, and used to such effect on dirty rotten G-Men.
The pith helmet, unfortunately, was never found.
