As you probably have read, I’ve been implicated by the Panama Papers, and am now facing a legal onslaught which even a man of my combat skills may not be able to fight off. Therefore, it is with a heavy heart that I must announce that I am stepping down from my post as Jackie Chan, effective immediately.
I know I’ve disappointed millions upon millions of you, my fans, who expect so much more from their Jackie Chan, as you should. You made me the international superstar that I am today, and with that support came an implicit promise: that I will never stop fighting for you for entertainment purposes in exchange for enormous amounts of money. But just like the mysterious crime lord Juntao from the box office smash hit Rush Hour, starring the incomparably charismatic Chris Tucker, I got greedy.
Through my questionable dealings, I’ve unwittingly become one of the very villains I’m meant to defeat in the end by seamlessly combining impeccable martial arts and family-friendly humor. I’m supposed to be “Mr. Nice Guy.” Now I’m more like “Mr. Crook Guy.” Rolls off the tongue, doesn’t it? Which is why I must relinquish the Jackie Chan title immediately, before irrevocable damage is done.
I will become Chan Kong-sang once again and live the rest of my days as a hermit in an undisclosed location as far from the spotlight and Interpol as I can possibly be. Perhaps, someday, a young fighter calling himself the new Jackie Chan will seek me out in my hidden fortress, hoping to avenge the many crimes I’ve committed here today. Let me just say, I welcome, you, actor to be named later. And rest assured, I’ll be ready for you, screenplay in hand, ready to die in the third act,à la Captain Kirk in Star Trek: Generations. Underrated film!
But until then, I’ll have plenty of time to contemplate what I’ve done. And, honestly, all I can think about is the rhetorical question posed in the title of my 1998 straight-to-video hit, Jackie Chan’s: Who Am I? which the AV Club hailed as “a Jackie Chan movie.”
“Who Am I?” The question endlessly reverberates through my skull. “WHO AM I?” Dear God, I don’t know anymore.