SCROOGE MCDUCK MERCH TZAR **AIRHORN**

We return from commercial break to… The PRIMEporium.

You know what time it is.

Anna Daniels: LET’S FUCKING GOOOOOO!!!!!!

Airhorns. She’s twirling around in an office chair as thousands of shirts old, new and newer than new begin to fall from the sky like snow. They pile one on top of the other in random patterns until they bury the Merch Lord under one giant mound of mostly cotton goodness. RIP.

No! Wait! Anna Daniels rockets out of the shirt pile and dives back in like Scrooge McDuck! There’s a backstroke in the midst of the fabric. All the GGs and Fuck Your Heads and Freshly Squeezed Inhuman Beings are like waves in a sea. Despite the fact that he doesn’t work here, there is an island of Powerslam Anubis muscle tees. A pirate is sailing on a ship made of Hoyt Williams’ obsession with DILFs. His crew is made of Wrestle Buddies that get blown away by a cannonball of Nackerdy, both No Fun and Google search.

Owls made of copies of Lindsay Troy’s Owl Simulator are threatening to peck out your soul but they get shot out of the air by a bazooka filled with Big League Tchu! Anna lounges with a freshly prepared Kohime Mori Pork Bun in hand.

Anna Daniels: Buy the shirts and everything else too, you fucking cowards.

A beat.

Anna Daniels: Huh. We thought this would’ve been longer on word count. Oh well.

A shrug at the cracked fourth wall as we fade to…