Farewell, Tobias Hornblende, we hardly knew ye.
You were born to be a buffer, a shield, a blame-taker. A frontman who could carry a tune, even though he never wrote the lines.
A coping mechanism to keep things in their appropriate lanes, you swiped at rivals and killed your darlings. Then came your turn to taste your own medicine.
The expendable point man on patrol for signs of a career; lost in the treacherous jungles of social media, you never stood a chance.
Your obituary said you were survived by eight ex-wives, thirty-one children and a pet dragon, Firetail.