The motion of the canvas sweeps our eyes to the action in a left to right motion, where an emerging Pepe, clothed (or perhaps disguised) as a clown and hidden under an off-white blanket, sounds his horn, as he rises and ascends.

Behind him, both rescued and rescuer, pedals another Pepe outfitted in a ‘normal’ costume, wearing a less bright expression than that of the beclowed basket-passenger, whose nose is reminiscent of Rudolph, that reindeer chosen to safely guide Santa’s sleigh through the storm. They are propelled forward by the normie Pepe’s efforts to petal, and upward by some magical force.

From the left emerge two pursuing figures who move past a motionless observer, who is waving one hand, either in farewell or greeting, and holding a drink in the other, his posture indicative of a beer-swilling country simpleton, perhaps even a ‘deplorable’, and he is ignored by the two pursuers.

The observer stands in direct opposite to the viewer, set against a green field of grass. A solid tree trunk grows on one side and an uneven and unbalanced hedge on the other. The hedge is reminiscent of that behind a famous and controversial painting of a famous Zero entity soaked in semen.

On the sidewalk is an angry NPC swiftly pursuing the escaping Pepes, seated atop a bicycle. His featureless grey skin is naked and broken only by collarbone ridges and a shadow between his weak pectoral muscles. His position echoes a famous art piece depicting a self-immolation character who causes his own crash but casts blame on others. But in this instance the NPC’s hands firmly grip the handlebars. It is another character’s hand that threatens to stick his spokes with the positioning of a fat, flaccidly raised fist.

This figure occupies the most center focus point of the canvas. And all lines of motion direct the viewers eye to her grotesque and energetic rage. The lines of lift also suggest that her arm throbs impotently in protest, and below that the extended drop of her morbididly obese belly threatens to upend her motorized scooter. Her shirt and tiny flag exhibit contradictory printed messages, one against a tiny vibrant red, the other in a colorless white letters laid against a dark gray or faded black. Her own artificial hair color and glasses are a funhouse mirror of the clown Pepe passenger, but her expression could not be more polar opposite.

The shaking fist, the tears streaming down her bespecled face, the motion lines; all combine to create a sense of precariousness, a sense of danger, an uneasy balance of potential catastrophe between pursuer and pursued, escapee and those left behind. Each might push on into the next moment, or their momentum can bring them all immediately crashing down.

Yet the still observer in the background will be the one first to disappear as the expected cinematic framing suggests an imminent panning to follow the action will leave him obscured out of frame.

This is a rare Pepe, and an even rarer Honker of the 8-kun editorial style, circa late 2019 or 2020. It’s value on the collector market is nearly 600,000 doubloons, or 1.5 million honks.

The motion of the canvas sweeps our eyes to the action in a left to right motion, where an emerging Pepe, clothed (or perhaps disguised) as a clown and hidden under an off-white blanket, sounds his horn, as he rises and ascends.

Behind him, both rescued and rescuer, pedals another Pepe outfitted in a ‘normal’ costume, wearing a less bright expression than that of the beclowed basket-passenger, whose nose is reminiscent of Rudolph, that reindeer chosen to safely guide Santa’s sleigh through the storm. They are propelled forward by the normie Pepe’s efforts to petal, and upward by some magical force.

From the left emerge two pursuing figures who move past a motionless observer, who is waving one hand, either in farewell or greeting, and holding a drink in the other, his posture indicative of a beer-swilling country simpleton, perhaps even a ‘deplorable’, and he is ignored by the two pursuers.

The observer stands in direct opposite to the viewer, set against a green field of grass. A solid tree trunk grows on one side and an uneven and unbalanced hedge on the other. The hedge is reminiscent of that behind a famous and controversial painting of a famous Zero entity soaked in semen.

On the sidewalk is an angry NPC swiftly pursuing the escaping Pepes, seated atop a bicycle. His featureless grey skin is naked and broken only by collarbone ridges and a shadow between his weak pectoral muscles. His position echoes a famous art piece depicting a self-immolation character who causes his own crash but casts blame on others. But in this instance the NPC’s hands firmly grip the handlebars. It is another character’s hand that threatens to stick his spokes with the positioning of a fat, flaccidly raised fist.

This figure occupies the most center focus point of the canvas. And all lines of motion direct the viewers eye to her grotesque and energetic rage. The lines of lift also suggest that her arm throbs impotently in protest, and below that the extended drop of her morbididly obese belly threatens to upend her motorized scooter. Her shirt and tiny flag exhibit contradictory printed messages, one against a tiny vibrant red, the other in a colorless white letters laid against a dark gray or faded black. Her own artificial hair color and glasses are a funhouse mirror of the clown Pepe passenger, but her expression could not be more polar opposite.

The shaking fist, the tears streaming down her bespecled face, the motion lines; all combine to create a sense of precariousness, a sense of danger, an uneasy balance of potential catastrophe between pursuer and pursued, escapee and those left behind. Each might push on into the next moment, or their momentum can bring them all immediately crashing down.

Yet the still observer in the background will be the one first to disappear as the expected cinematic framing suggests an imminent panning to follow the action will leave him obscured out of frame.

This is a rare Pepe, and an even rarer Honker of the 8-kun editorial style, circa late 2019 or 2020. It’s value on the collector market is nearly 600,000 doubloons, or 1.5 million honks.

The motion of the canvas sweeps our eyes to the action in a left to right motion, where an emerging Pepe, clothed (or perhaps disguised) as a clown and hidden under an off-white blanket, sounds his horn, as he rises and ascends.

Behind him, both rescued and rescuer, pedals another Pepe outfitted in a ‘normal’ costume, wearing a less bright expression than that of the beclowed basket-passenger, whose nose is reminiscent of Rudolph, that reindeer chosen to safely guide Santa’s sleigh through the storm. They are propelled forward by the normie Pepe’s efforts to petal, and upward by some magical force.

From the left emerge two pursuing figures who move past a motionless observer, who is waving one hand, either in farewell or greeting, and holding a drink in the other, his posture indicative of a beer-swilling country simpleton, perhaps even a ‘deplorable’, and he is ignored by the two pursuers.

The observer stands in direct opposite to the viewer, set against a green field of grass. A solid tree trunk grows on one side and an uneven and unbalanced hedge on the other. The hedge is reminiscent of that behind a famous and controversial painting of a famous Zero entity soaked in semen.

On the sidewalk is an angry NPC swiftly pursuing the escaping Pepes, seated atop a bicycle. His featureless grey skin is naked and broken only by collarbone ridges and a shadow between his weak pectoral muscles. His position echoes a famous art piece depicting a self-immolation character who causes his own crash but casts blame on others. But in this instance the NPC’s hands firmly grip the handlebars. It is another character’s hand that threatens to stick his spokes with the positioning of a fat, flaccidly raised fist.

This figure occupies the most center focus point of the canvas. And all lines of motion direct the viewers eye to her grotesque and energetic rage. The lines of lift also suggest that her arm throbs impotently in protest, and below that the extended drop of her morbididly obese belly threatens to upend her motorized scooter. Her shirt and tiny flag exhibit contradictory printed messages, one against a tiny vibrant red, the other in a colorless white letters laid against a dark gray or faded black. Her own artificial hair color and glasses are a funhouse mirror of the clown Pepe passenger, but her expression could not be more polar opposite.

The shaking fist, the tears streaming down her bespecled face, the motion lines; all combine to create a sense of precariousness, a sense of danger, an uneasy balance of potential catastrophe between pursuer and pursued, escapee and those left behind. Each might push on into the next moment, or their momentum can bring them immediately crashing down into catastrophe.

Yet the still observer in the background will be the one first to disappear as the expected cinematic framing suggests an imminent panning to follow the action will leave him obscured out of frame.

This is a rare Pepe, and an even rarer Honker of the 8-kun editorial style, circa late 2019 or 2020. It’s value on the collector market is nearly 600,000 doubloons, or 1.5 million honks.

The motion of the canvas sweeps our eyes to the action in a left to right motion. Where the emerging Pepe, clothed (or perhaps disguised) as a clown and hidden under a an off-white blanket, sounds his horn, as he rises and ascends. Behind him, both rescued and rescuer, pedals another Pepe outfitted in a ‘normal’ costume, wearing a less bright expression than that of the beclowed basket-passenger, whose nose is reminiscent of Rudolph, who safely guided Santa in the storm. They are propelled forward by the normie Pepe’s efforts to petal, and upward by some magical force.

From the left emerge two pursuing figures who move past a motionless observer, who is waving one hand, either in farewell or greeting, and holding a drink in the other, his posture indicative of a beer-swilling country simpleton, perhaps even a ‘deplorable’, and he is ignored by the two pursuers.

The observer stands in direct opposite to the viewer, set against a green field of grass, with a solid tree trunk grows on one side and an uneven and unbalanced hedge on the other. The hedge is reminiscent of that behind a famous and controversial painting of a famous Zero entity.

On the sidewalk is an angry NPC swiftly pursuing the escaping Pepe’s atop a bicycle. His featureless guy skin is naked and broken only by collarbone ridges and a shadow between his weak pectoral muscles. His position echoes a famous art piece depicting a self-immolation character who causes his own crash but casts blame on others. But the NPC’s hands firmly grip the handlebars. It is another character’s hand that threatens to stick his spokes with the positioning of a fat, flaccidly raised fist.

This figure occupies the most center focus point of the canvas. And all lines of motion direct the viewers eye to her grotesque and energetic rage. The lines of lift also suggest that her arm throbs impotently in protest, and below that the extended drop of her morbididly obese belly threatens to upend her motorized scooter. Her shirt and tiny flag exhibit contradictory printed messages, one against a tiny vibrant red, the other in a colorless white letters laid against a dark gray or faded black. Her own artificial hair color and glasses are a funhouse mirror of the clown Pepe passenger, but her expression could not be more polar opposite.

The shaking fist, the tears streaming down her bespecled face, the motion lines; all combine to create a sense of precariousness, a sense of danger, an uneasy balance of potential catastrophe between pursuer and pursued, escapee and those left behind. Each might push on into the next moment, or their momentum can bring them immediately crashing down into catastrophe.

Yet the still observer in the background will be the one first to disappear as the expected cinematic framing suggests an imminent panning to follow the action will leave him obscured out of frame.

This is a rare Pepe, and an even rarer Honker of the 8-kun editorial style, circa late 2019 or 2020. It’s value on the collector market is nearly 600,000 doubloons, or 1.5 million honks.

The motion of the canvass sweeps our eyes to the action in a left to right motion. Where the emerging Pepe, clothed (or perhaps disguised) as a clown and hidden under a an off-white blanket sounds his horn, as he rises and ascends. Behind him, both rescued and rescuer, pedals a Pepe outfitted in a ‘normal’ costume, wearing a less bright expression than that of the red-nosed beclowed passenger, whose nose is reminiscent of Rudolph, who safely guided Santa in the storm.

From the left emerge two pursuing figures who move past a motionless observer, who is waving one hand, either in farewell or greeting, and holding a drink in the other, his posture indicative of a beer-swilling country simpleton, perhaps even a ‘deplorable’, and he is ignored by the two pursuers.

The observer stands in direct opposite to the viewer, set against a green field of grass, with a solid tree trunk grows on one side and an uneven and unbalanced hedge on the other. The hedge is reminiscent of that behind a famous and controversial painting of a famous Zero entity.

On the sidewalk is an angry NPC swiftly pursuing the escaping Pepe’s atop a bicycle. His featureless guy skin is naked and broken only by collarbone ridges and a shadow between his weak pectoral muscles. His position echoes a famous art piece depicting a self-immolation character who causes his own crash but casts blame on others. But the NPC’s hands firmly grip the handlebars. It is another character’s hand that threatens to stick his spokes with the positioning of a fat, flaccidly raised fist.

This figure occupies the most center focus point of the canvas. And all lines of motion direct the viewers eye to her grotesque and energetic rage. The lines of lift also suggest that her arm throbs impotently in protest, and below that the extended drop of her morbididly obese belly threatens to upend her motorized scooter. Her shirt and tiny flag exhibit contradictory printed messages, one against a tiny vibrant red, the other in a colorless white letters laid against a dark gray or faded black. Her own artificial hair color and glasses are a funhouse mirror of the clown Pepe passenger, but her expression could not be more polar opposite.

The shaking fist, the tears streaming down her bespecled face, the motion lines; all combine to create a sense of precariousness, a sense of danger, an uneasy balance of potential catastrophe between pursuer and pursued, escapee and those left behind. Each might push on into the next moment, or their momentum can bring them immediately crashing down into catastrophe.

Yet the still observer in the background will be the one first to disappear as the expected cinematic framing suggests an imminent panning to follow the action will leave him obscured out of frame.

This is a rare Pepe, and an even rarer Honker of the 8-kun editorial style, circa late 2019 or 2020. It’s value on the collector market is nearly 600,000 doubloons, or 1.5 million honks.