This whole story is about Prance, a Frankenstein’s monster that was made from the body parts of various musicians. However, he has no soul, because that was the next thing on the list to be transplanted when he escaped. He is now a heartless rock star, playing music dependent on everyone else with no real power of its own – or so Kierkegaard would have us believe. This is clearly a thinly veiled commentary on Prince, which is pretty much Kierkegaard’s stock in trade.

(Heavy Metal issue #109, Fall 1986 – Page 106 Funkenstein’s Mon-Star by Kierkegaard)