He’s the most elusive and successful street artist of all time. He’s been able to sell paintings for millions, open his own satirical theme park and direct an award winning film all without showing his face. No one actually knows for sure what Banksy looks like – that is perhaps until now. Rumors are circulating that the above photoed man is none other than Banksy himself and that I am in deep deep shit because I just shot that guy off of my roof for trespassing.
Oh my God oh my God this isn’t happening this isn’t happening please please please do not be Banksy.
I own a small shipping facility in the old sewing district and lately the roof had become sort of a hot spot for local hoodlums. I got tired of kids sneaking up there to share drugs and have premarital sex or whatever the hell else it is kids do on rooftops so I got myself a shotgun. Just to scare them, understand. Well, either my aim isn’t what it used to be or shotguns are a little less precise than I remember or a little from column A and a little from column B but the long and the short of it is I shot and killed a trespasser and it turns out he may be famous.
Anyway I called the police thinking dead or not I was well within my rights. They show up and everything goes pretty routine until one of the officers notices the graffiti the trespasser was working on. Said it reminded him of a t–shirt his dumb punk kid wears all the time. Then their whole tone started to change.
If the rumors are true, if this man is indeed legendary street artist Banksy, I am in so much fucking trouble you guys. I’ve already got two strikes, one from the time I accidentally hit Mr. Brainwash with my car and just drove off and the other when I maimed Shepard Fairey. How does this keep happening to me?
All of the sudden I’m being dragged to the station and asked a million question. Have I seen Exit Through the Gift Shop? Have I ever dabbled in street art myself? Do I work for Disney?
What was once a clear cut case of breaking and entering is quickly spiraling into a massive investigation. I don’t understand how the police could possibly think that I assassinated Banksy with malice of forethought. I’m a simple man! A simple man who only knows two things for sure; If you break onto my property I can legally shoot you, and if you want to shred a painting someone spent millions on you should make sure they don’t have friends in low places first mother fucker.