Oh he'll kill again, that Gilligan. They should have let him be.

From the Diaries of the Oregon Trail on Acid:

Day 142:

Bill caught "Dead Man's Disease" and had to be locked in a crate and carried by oxen. We thought that cutting off his legs would help, but they just got in the way. That is until we had leg stew.

Hell, we were hungry. And it wasn't like Bill was gonna use em again. Bill cried long into the night and sang a song about his father Edmund.

"Edmund was a wild man,
he drank out of a tin can,
He sobered up once for a woman,
but she caught him in bed,
with another woman, and
she cut off his nose to spite his face,
and caused him to lose the rabbit chase.

So don't be like Edmund,
who's rabbit is gone,
you'll end up with no mong."

Bill, had become prone to making up words, on account of the "itis".

I told Bill that he needed to find courage and starfish flavored chicken meat.
Bill just smiled at me and said "Snarflbat, tiggald kidturn, alredo."

How true.