“Cayper” – 2002
It was in the middle of February and freezing tiddleywinks. Me and my man Fleazo were up late doing drugs and drinking hot chocolate. In the wee hours of the Morning we start getting on that war veteran tip talking about the good old days of bashing and smashing the D – Line. I started to catch the bug…then before I knew it, we were in full swing and decided to go out and paint along the D-Line. We grew up on the D line looking at work by a lot of really good writers (Sly, Remote, Tale, Prank, Secret, Skreme, Alert, and Alone to name a few.) Writers that did their work classy, simple, and smart. The D line way.
We faded a couple more faders and were off in Fleazo’s tan butter soft leather interior magic whip (Honda Accord). It was starting to get light out. We parked the car behind some newly built luxury condominiums that abutted a wooded area where we slipped over a fence through the woods toward the D-Line tracks. We crept through the woods in three feet of snow trying to be quiet but inevitably breaking branches and were laughing all the way. By this time it was abut 7:00 am and the sun was fully shining. We started painting one of the tan roughly coregated brick power source huts. We opened up our sacks of black and white Krylon and started painting.
The wall we were painting was at a turn in the tracks and had a kink in it. At first, everything was swell but then trains started rolling by. Fleazo could see the outbound trains ahead of time and I could see the trains heading into Boston. When they would come we would both boogie and hide behind one of the thick green poles. They were thick but not thick enough for both of us to hide behind at the same time. As trains went by we would squirrel around the pole trying to cut off the angle between us and the passing train. A few trains went by and at one point there were trains coming from both sides and the squirreling style was out. One of the trains honked. I thought that it was just a friendly honk at the other train passing by and continued to paint an almost finished straight letter. Despite the cold, snow, and the hiding I was still high as fuck on faders and everything was candy in my mind. All I had left to do was outline my star. Just then, Fleazo comes tearing around the corner with a look like he just saw death. He said, ”dude, run!! They’re coming.” I thought he was fucking with me and as he blows by me kicking up dust I glance around the kink in the building and couldn’t believe my eyes. We had been spotted. To my surprise I see a dark blue Crown Victoria smearing down a maintenance road leading to the hut we’re painting. There was a white misty blaze surrounding the vehicle. It was like a pissed off wooly mammoth awoke early from hibernation and tearing ass at us. I quickly grab my bag and dip around the building back through the woods towards where Fleazo’s car was parked. I look around and don’t see Fleazo in front of me and am thinking, where the fuck did this dude go. Then I see him way up this steep incline trying to bend the fence down so he can get away down the tracks. I yell at him, ”get the fuck over here!” He realizes his efforts to bend the fence down are futile and turns around to pull a slip and slide down the hill. I don’t know how he stayed on his feet because it looked like he was going to bite the dust the whole way down. He reached the basin and we ran while tearing off our gloves and nearing the last fence we had to get over to make it to our get away vehicle. He and I jumped the fence track star style and blew out in his whip mobbin like gangsters do laughing all the way back to his pad.