There was one thing that Fabian wasn’t particularly fond of – in fact he hated it – and that was loose elastic in his pants. He would have to hold his pants up with one hand and do everything else with the other.
And then he died.
His silly wife, Caroline Myrtle, had him buried wearing those pants with the damn loose elastic.
There he is now! That one over there, playing beatific golf with one free arm, and holding his pants up with the free hand. Forever.