"Oh, I don't support slavery," I say as I strut around in Chuck Taylors blood-soaked dreams. "100 more slave babies!" I cry as I gleefully soyface over the latest Hurly shirt release. Pods for everyone I cry as I pay rent to the landlords of the clothing industry and slurp on mulched crickets. Hexbears bathe in the river of hypocrisy and lies.

(Did I do this right? I miss BMF)