You buy it for the meme. The flaming skull grins like your last Tinder date’s cat. By midnight, it’s fused to your ribcage. You flex in the bathroom mirror. The flames flicker. The red eye glows. *“Metal as hell,”* you lie. The tee rasps: *“Poser. Detected.”* Next morning, your barista wears the same tee. Her skull’s flames drip neon-red. She hands you a latte with *“RIP Potential”* foam art. You sip it. It tastes like napalm and regret. That night, you’re air-guitaring in a Walmart parking lot. A figure in a Legacy Gold Snapback revs a shopping cart at you. *“Don Tonzo airbrushed this during a riot,”* he snarls. *“Wear it. *Whimper.*”* The skull’s eye flares. You wake up in a burned-out Kmart. The tee’s pristine. Laughing.