Maurice Sendak

Hello. My name is Bob. You know me by sight. I am one of Maurice Sendak's monsters. You've all read his books. Now he's dead. Should I be grieving? After all, he was my creator.
Guess again. He made my life hell. I think I can speak for all of his monsters. We despised this man. Why? He wouldn't let us unionize. We worked seven days a week including holidays. We lived together in a barren warehouse, we couldn't even send out for pizza. We had no say in our appearance. Gold eyes? C'mon. No medical or dental benefits. I had three abscessed teeth from biting into bark. He drew me hunched over and my neck to this day is killing me.
When he created new monsters he'd just forget about us. Do the math. The guy wrote over 80 books. That's a lot of neglected beasts. Once he lost interest we were lucky to get a meeting with him. Try getting past his secretary, that witch. She really WAS a witch. At least he could have created some female monsters. I have urges too.
I'll tell you something. I never liked scaring kids. Or eating them. Most of them taste salty anyway. Frankly, those SAW movies scare the heck out of me. Oh yes, Maurice gave us movie night once a week. The only caveat--it had to be scary movies. To keep us in the right frame of mind.
Only God can judge this man for what he did to us. A bearded, owl-eyed sadist, that's how I'll remember him. Never even set us up for residuals.