The week before this toon was done, there were three celebrity deaths. In order, they were: 1) a guy famous for laughing at someone else's jokes, 2) a woman who was on a poster in the '70s, and C) a musician who hasn't been relevant in about 20 years. Then a few days later, a guy who screams about laundry detergent in commercials died, too, which confused everyone who says "these things always happen in threes." They don't; ancient Mesopotamians thought things came in twenty-sixes, and they were just as wrong as you are: it just took them longer to recognize a pattern.
Anyway, even before the bearded guy from Pitchmen died, the "threes" crowd was overlooking someone: that guy who played a lot of martial arts mentors was the first to (recently) go. Does he not count for some reason?
And yes, he's holding a noose. We're terrible people.
(If Billy Mays had actually shown up on-panel in this strip, we would have Photoshopped a blue shirt onto Hercules - he has the beard and the grin.)
David Carradine: I told McMahon; I told Farrah; now I'm telling you:
David Carradine: This is my territory. I got here first, I make the rules.
David Carradine: If you've got a problem with that, mama say mama saw me kick your ass. Are we clear?
Michael Jackson: EEE-hee! Shamon!
Billy Mays: WHAT ABOUT ME?
David Carradine: I'll be with you in a minute, Mays!