Psycho House Tee
It was 3:17 a.m. at a Waffle House off I-40, the kind of place where the jukebox skips and the coffee tastes like burnt lightning.
The Mad Chemist stumbled in, face paint smeared, eyes wild. He didnât want foodâhe wanted the shirt. The black and yellow line cook shirt that shimmered in the fluorescent light like some sacred relic.
The cook, spatula in hand, said, âYouâre not serious.â
The Mad Chemist grinned, cracked his knuckles, and flipped a chair like a pancake. Syrup bottles rattled. The cook swung first, but The Mad Chemist ducked, cackled, and jabbed with a fork like it was a dagger. Napkins flew, hash browns scattered. Customers cheered.
Finally, with one wild laugh and a chokehold that smelled faintly of maple syrup, The Mad Chemist snatched the shirt clean off the cookâs back. He slipped it on, oversized and greasy, like it was a royal robe --Â leaving behind a stunned line cook, a wrecked dining room, and a Waffle House that would never, ever forget the night the Mad Chemist won.
He soon realized, he didn't need THAT shirt - just that look. So he made his own, and you can get it now, too! We only made a few, so get yours now - before someone wants to fight you for it.
Original: $39.95
-70%$39.95
$11.99Product Information
Product Information
Shipping & Returns
Shipping & Returns
Description
It was 3:17 a.m. at a Waffle House off I-40, the kind of place where the jukebox skips and the coffee tastes like burnt lightning.
The Mad Chemist stumbled in, face paint smeared, eyes wild. He didnât want foodâhe wanted the shirt. The black and yellow line cook shirt that shimmered in the fluorescent light like some sacred relic.
The cook, spatula in hand, said, âYouâre not serious.â
The Mad Chemist grinned, cracked his knuckles, and flipped a chair like a pancake. Syrup bottles rattled. The cook swung first, but The Mad Chemist ducked, cackled, and jabbed with a fork like it was a dagger. Napkins flew, hash browns scattered. Customers cheered.
Finally, with one wild laugh and a chokehold that smelled faintly of maple syrup, The Mad Chemist snatched the shirt clean off the cookâs back. He slipped it on, oversized and greasy, like it was a royal robe --Â leaving behind a stunned line cook, a wrecked dining room, and a Waffle House that would never, ever forget the night the Mad Chemist won.
He soon realized, he didn't need THAT shirt - just that look. So he made his own, and you can get it now, too! We only made a few, so get yours now - before someone wants to fight you for it.
