She: Finally. I’ve posted.
He: Great work as usual, love. But, you know, since you’re always insisting on celebrating 19th-century writers …
She: Huh?
He: … wouldn’t it be simple fairness, every once in awhile, to say that you’ve melvilled? Or hawthorned? Or even that you’ve done something austentatious?
She: What are you talking about?!?
He: Instead of always saying that you’ve Poe-sted? Not that he wasn’t a great writer, mind you, but his range was a bit limited. All macabre, all the time. And a fat lot of good it did him; he hardly ever made enough money with his writing to buy dinner. An early Victorian blogger, he was. And you know what they called a hungry Poe, don’t you?
She: No, and I …
He: Raven-ous.
She: And do you know what they call punny amoebae?
He: No, and I …
She: Extirpated!