Old joke about a hated man who finally dies...
this is often told with changes to the background of the deceased. The one I heard when I was a kid was in Yiddish, but this version will suffice:
Meanest man in County Cork dies and the kind-hearted pastor of his church, preparing to say the funeral mass, can't think of single nice thing to say about the bastard in his eulogy.
So he asks around town, looking for anyone who has one good word for the deceased to say at the mass, and finds no takers. He gets the idea to call over to the church in the village where the old man was born, figuring that there might be someone there who remembers him from when he was a boy and who might then have at least one fond memory to impart. The priest over there is a very old man himself, and he grew up with the dear departed and offers to come to the funeral and say the nicest thing he can think of.
Day of the funeral comes, the old priest arrives, it's time for him to give the eulogy. He totters up to the pulpit, looks out at the very few people who've bothered to show up, and says the one nice thing there is to say about the dead old man:
"His brother was worse."
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