S9E8: Alas Poor Padlock
(Wing Dagger picks up Padlock's head): Alas, poor Padlock! I knew him, Hot Shot: a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy: he hath borne me on his alt mode a thousand times and now, how abhorred in my imagination it is! My gorge rises at it. Here hangs that faceplate I have kissed I know not how oft. Where be your gibes now? Your gambols? Your songs? Your flashes of merriment that were wont to set the cell block on a roar? Not one now, to mark your own dying badly? Quite chap-fallen. Now get thee to Primus'…
