*AIRHORN TIMES THREE*

PRIMEporium.

(…don’t make me say it.)

The usual table. Anna Daniels has her feet upon it. Earbuds on. She sees the camera drone and motions it to come over. She then taps on a sign.

Keeping PRIME’d for match.
Don’t mind the Resting Bitch Face.

A tap to another.

Buy the shirt, you fucking cowards.

A point to the NEW ERA shirts. And you’re thinking “big deal. We’ve seen this before.” Well, wait a second, scooter. There’s more. Another tap. Another sign.

Buy this one too.
Because it’s true.