Elvis’ manager, Colonel Tom Parker, was, by all accounts, an awful man and, quite clearly, no animal lover, but in its grim way this (from a review in the New York Times of a new biography of him) reveals a certain lunatic flair:

A small-time scam artist capable of posing as a Bible salesman to cheat widows, an author of asinine schemes, he nonetheless had an astounding ability to survive. Shortly after running into trouble with the Tampa police for burying a pony up to its knees in his front lawn and selling 10-cent peeks at ”the world’s smallest pony,” Parker talked himself into a job as head of the local humane society, where he put the agency in the black by starting a pet cemetery and established himself as a local wheeler-dealer.”

Connoisseurs of stinginess will also enjoy this:

“[He] liked to tip hotel bellboys with free sandwiches from studio commissaries.”