One day in a joke shop

You’ll never guess who came into my shop the other day. Only that artist bloke. You know, the one who did all those sketches that got stolen from that gallery.

I was unpacking a box of plastic comedy breasts when he walked in. It didn’t surprise me much really because you know what these artist types are like nowadays; pickled sharks and all that. I thought that maybe he was looking for some inspiration.

Anyway, I asked him whether they’d found the person who’d stolen his sketches. He said they hadn’t yet.

Apparently the CCTV in the gallery hadn’t recorded anyone breaking in and the alarm systems didn’t even go off and yet the sketches were gone; replaced by blank canvasses. The police were completely stumped.

He didn’t seem too unhappy though and I told him so.

“Well, that’s because the sketches were all insured for a quarter of a million each”, he said, “So I made quite a profit”.

Then I asked him what he wanted to buy.

“Oh, 10 boxes of vanishing ink, please”, he said.

“That’s an awful lot of vanishing ink”, I said.

“I’ve got a lot more sketches to do”, he replied.

Well, call me dim but I’m not sure why he would want to draw in vanishing ink. Anyway, he was good enough to give me his autograph before he left. I’ve got it around here somewhere, honest.