I'm going to be able to live. So, You're crammed like a sardine into a dark and dreary place, like a pringle stuffed

stuff deep down into a long forgotten pringle can.

Dust covers every surface around you.

You can't see a thing. Perhaps you never could.

You know not how long you've been like this. You may never know for sure. All you know is that what

feels like an eternity ago you are in a place of resplendent beauty and

sophistication and now you are in the pits of hell by comparison.

How did it end up this way?

You churn over the cyclical thoughts that plague you incessantly.

They hound you to no end.

To be honest, that may in earnest be the gravest of all insults to have befallen

you in this accursed place. It's that simple understanding and resentment born from the

unjust nature of the situation itself.

You had so much beauty to show the world, so much history was etched across your skin in

your old age.

Delicate hands caressed you once upon a time.

You yearn for any touch now. So much you could have given to so many people, if not for the greed of man.

Now there's no guarantee that you'll ever be seen by anyone's eyes ever again. You are the Storm on the Sea of

Galili by Rembrandt. You've just been stolen from the Isabella Stewart Garden of

Museum in Boston and you're currently imprisoned in a metal tube and this is the red thread.

I'm your host Jackson.

I'm joined today by Career Criminal Isaiah and Modern Art Appreciator Charlie he's here too to relay just the facts of the case no opinions none of that nonsense just the facts our subject today the single largest art theft in history the Isabella Stewart

...