Original Artwork

From an unknown author:

I grew up an only child. We lived out in the woods so I couldn’t just walk down the block whenever I wanted to visit a schoolmate. My childhood was very lonely, and it seemed at times that my closest friends were memes. In gradeschool, we were allowed to print out one picture a week from the classroom computer. I’d use my print voucher on dank meme templates. In my room, I had a whiteboard that I’d tape the templates too, and with a dryerase marker, I’d caption my own Bad-Luck-Brian’s and Scumbag-Steve’s. It was a lot of fun and I’d often make new memes while holding a flashlight in the other hand after lights-out.

When I was twelve, for Christmas I got a rare Pepe. Deep down, I knew that it was more than my parents could afford, but I was too astonished to consider this. That Pepe was my prized possession. In reality, my parents were planning a divorce and they wanted me to have one last holiday together to remember fondly. It was tough the following years, moving back and forth between homes, but I always had my rare Pepe at my side to keep me company.

Eventually I grew up and forgot about Pepe and my meme collection. I started highschool, got a girlfriend, started a part-time job. I got a driver’s license and a car, and was no longer isolated to my cabin in the woods. I became more outgoing and made more friends as I got older. After highschool, I graduated from college and started my career. I married the girl of my dreams. I had my own life.

Of course, death is a part of life more than anything. My parents died relatively young, before I was thirty myself. It was hard, but we can’t roll back the clock. I spent that summer renovating the house I grew up in. I had a lot of memories at the place, but I was a homeowner myself now and couldn’t cope with two houses. We put the property on the market and quickly found a buyer.

Cleaning out the last of my father’s possessions, I found a cardboard box in the attic with my name sharpied onto the side. Inside was a collection of memoralia. My essay contest trophy, my Pokemon cards, a collection of cool Lego doohickeys. There was a centerfold I had torn out of a Playboy I found in my grandfather’s garage. Then, underneath a Tyson catalog, I saw it: my Rare Pepe. It was as immaculate and beautiful as the day I first unwrapped it. I felt that I was being a little silly, but I couldn’t shake the sense that something grand was being foretold, and that it was no accident that I stumbled upon my old Pepe.

The very next day, Donald Trump announced his run for presidency. Memes started flowing. The world made sense to me again, like I was reborn. I pulled my box of junk from the street before the garbage men could get it, and I retrieved my rare Pepe. Today, it sits proudly on my mantletop, next to my MAGA hat and 1st ed. copy of Art of the Deal. Praise Kek.