Hmm, reminds me of a passage I wrote for a possible Muppet fan-fic some time back. (and for the record, J.P. Grosse is not dead, just absent)
"Ah, yes, J.P. Grosse," Frank nodded. "We do miss him very much around here."
Behind Frank, a volley of darts (color-coded: maroon for Jerry, orange for Richard, dark blue for Dave, spring green for Steve and bright red for Louise) sailed in from the performers' lounge and whacked into the wall around J.P. Grosse's portrait.
The darts were followed by a series of disgruntled remarks about the general lack of aim.
"This close...this close..."
"It's these stupid air currents."
"You couldn't hit the broad side of a barn!"
"Your face! Two inches closer and I'd have gotten him."
"Yeah, try not to take my eye out next time, please."