You find it in the basement of a boarded-up Blockbuster. The walls sweat VHS static. The floor crackles with the bones of forgotten rental cards. The tee hangs from a flickering CRT, white as a nuclear flash, the Tonzobeast logo clawed into it like a curse. You think it’s clean. *Fool.*  
First hour, the logo itches. Second hour, it *burns*. By midnight, your reflection mouths his words—Don Tonzo, the void that wears a man’s skin.  
*“Oslo, 1992,”* hisses the shirt’s tag. *“I fought a war against silence. Won. Lost. Doesn’t matter. The screams stained my sleeves. I left this behind. A blank slate. A lie.”*  
You wake up in a snowfield that wasn’t there yesterday. The tee’s pristine. The snow? Red.  
---  
**THE LEGEND OF THE MARK I**  
Before light betrayed darkness, Tonzo carved his name into the fabric of nothingness. Boredom birthed angels. Rage birthed fonts. One day, he dipped a brush into a black hole, slashed it across the void. *“Logos,”* he sneered. *“Mortals love branding.”*  
The first stroke erased a pantheon. The second birthed influencers. The third? It gained a taste for ribs.  
It’s not cotton. It’s a *coffin*. The logo? His autograph on your epitaph.  
---  
**MODERN DAY**  
You wear it to a rooftop party. The DJ’s decks spark. *“Take it off,”* he begs, eyes bleeding Spotify playlists.  
You smirk. The logo drips black tar, pools into a shadow that eats the bassline. Guests vomit NFTs. Don Tonzo materializes, sipping a mimosa made of rat poison. *“Adorable,”* he says. *“You think this is *yours*?”*  
He snaps his fingers. The tee bleaches your veins. You wake up in Saskatchewan. The tag reads: *“PROPERTY OF DON TONZO. RENT PAID IN BONE.”*  
---  
**THE CHOICE**  
They come at 3:33 AM—women in power suits that hum like guillotines. *“He wants it laundered,”* they say. *“Or he’ll bleach you instead.”*  
You flee. The tee drags you to a mall that closed in 2003. The logo glows, branding your sternum. Inside, mannequins twitch.  
Don Tonzo leans against a dead Orange Julius, sledgehammer dripping neon. *“Final offer. Wear it, or become the canvas.”*  
The tee hisses: *“YES.”*