Having located DC's Rowville hovel, we shimmied up a drainpipe, crept through a rear window, snuck into the spare bedroom, and opened the cupboard door. "What are you doing fuckhead?" came a booming voice from behind. "If you're looking for the t-shirts, they're in the shed."
Tails between legs we filed down the stairs and out the back door to the shed, brushed the spiderwebs away from under the workbench, grabbed the box, and got the hell out of there.
And here they are. Bright as a button and red as Santa's sack. Made of cotton and ready to wear. Ok, that last line is a bit piss-poor in the hyperbole stakes but there's not much you can say about a t-shirt, is there? Anyway - we're sure it would look really nice on you.
Size XL, 2XL, and 3XL only - there won't be a repress, so once the 20 shirts we have are gone they will be gone forever.