Tillman Henderson/IF-92.158

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This article contains lore created collaboratively by the Blaseball community. It is just one of many Rumors that we've found in the Interdimensional Rumor Mill. You can find more Rumors about Tillman Henderson at their Rumor Registry.

In Literature

Following Henderson's incineration, Runolfio Peeper wrote "The Funeral of Tillman Henderson"

The funeral was in a local dive
The only place where Tillman wasn’t banned
He’d burnt most of his bridges while alive
Now burnt himself, the crowd was less than grand

Among those gathered, there were muttered thanks
That we were finally rid this noxious pest.
A lad stepped up, known for his youtube pranks
He was the chosen speaker, he confessed.

Turns out Tillman predicted his demise
And so prepared for us some final words.
We found the opening was no surprise:
“Hey welcome, mourners all, you lousy turds!”

“I felt this day was coming,” Tillman wrote,
“And knew I really couldn’t miss the chance.
To take a moment for a swan-song gloat.
You can’t call me a liar—check my pants!

“I bet I burnt much better than did Combs
And just like Nora, death gave me no fear.
I’m sure the Crabs will make me touching poems
From the Hall of Flame, I’ll wipe those on my rear.

“I’m getting bored of writing all this trash
Thinking of you guys all sad just makes me sick
I really wish I weren’t a pile of ash
So I could tell you all to suck my…” quick
Footsteps echoed in the hall outside
And for a long moment nobody spoke
As if in a dream Tillman hadn’t died—
That he would walk in and reveal the joke.

But it was only Tillman’s father, late,
Who shuffled in with his starched suit and stayed
Just long enough so that he could extricate
The keys to his son’s orange Escalade.

And then, with little else to say, we left,
Crab teammates held Tillman’s urn up high
Like a championship trophy, and heft
His remains to where Tillman would lie.

We laid him as he asked behind the lot
Where the city buried all its toxic waste
And then we gave some mighty spits—we thought
This gesture would be much to Tillman’s taste.

As we walked away we sang a cheery tune,
To honor what from Tillman we had learned:
That death comes unexpected and too soon,
And life is best enjoyed before we’re burned.