No! We had a deal, reindeer: I get you some nice jewelry and you get me out of this blizzard.

You can’t add new stipulations now. No, I will not buy you a ring for each of your antlers. Or a gold watch for each of your hooves. No, I won’t sew you a shawl that says ”#1 reindeer” or write you a song to be played on guitar and strings. No cakes, no vases, no Oakleys, no shrines, no bagels, no tattoos on you, no tattoos of you on me, no stained glass, no private islands, no custom belt buckle. You wanted a nice gold necklace; I got that for you. Now let’s get out of here.

Do you even know who my dad is? Seriously, do you? Boreas. Greek God of the North Wind. Yeah, I know the wind is bitter and cold, Reindeer. You think I need you to tell me that? You think I need your help working out my extensive daddy issues? Keep your armchair psychology to yourself. Because you don’t know him like I know him. Yeah, maybe he forgets my birthday and maybe I’ve never seen him smile. But he’s a good dad, and if he heard that you held me hostage in a snow storm to score swag, he’d gust you. He’d gust you so hard that you’d fall over and your antlers would bend like trees in the wind.

So be happy that I was nice enough to give you a friggin’ necklace and let’s roll, okay?

Wear this shirt: if you see a gray shirt and you want it painted gold.

Don’t wear this shirt: while crossing country roads late at night. It’s hard to pull off that guy-in-a-deer-shirt-in-the-headlights look.

This shirt tells the world: “I ride in style.”

We call this color: Silver [that you can] wear.

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