“That’s no way to treat expensive quills! Why must everything you draw be in ox blood?” asked Professor Ganglion.
“Have you ever heard of cross hatching?” demanded Cranium with a saucy toss of his amber hair.
“Duh! I totally taught a semester on that.” Professor Ganglion rolled his eyes and, feeling that was not a harsh enough gesture of contempt, also stabbed Cranium’s crusty tonsure with a pallet knife. The blade dug in deeper than he expected and when he pulled it out, he found its crimson edge inspiring. As Cranium lost consciousness, the professor shoved him to the floor and took his place at the easel. “Yes, yes, he thought. One must use a pallet knife when painting in blood.”
And so, in death, Cranium McGee became a mediocre work of art, as in life he had been a mediocre artist.