The line between comedy and tragedy is a very thin one, indeed. I believe it was Mel Brooks who said, "Tragedy is when I cut my finger. Comedy is when you walk into an open sewer and die." Yesterday we swung between sadness and laughter faster than an unmarried drunk girl with PMS at a bridal shower. (I've seen it happen, people. It ain't pretty.) We mourned the death of the Dreamcast, then laughed our asses off at Horstachio. ("For you? Vigilante justice.") Chris fought the good fight for the sake of Punch-Out fans everywhere, only to be done in by a wayward package of peeps. A tragic end, indeed.
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