A wing of B-2 bombers.
32 hours in the sky.
Red Bull, go-pills, and a 30,000-pound Massive Ordnance Penetrator riding beneath them like a steel hard-on blessed by Boeing and cursed by God.

They flew from Middle America to the ass-end of Iran.
No lights. No chatter. Just the quiet confidence of a well-endowed, billion-dollar delta wing on the orders of a billionaire commander-in-chief. 

No one knows exactly what they hit.
Only that it no longer exists.

A select few will know that this shirt is a dick joke. Only the chosen know that everything is a dick joke. 

• 100% ring-spun cotton
• Regular fit
• Dark Heather is 65% polyester, 35% cotton
• 4.5 oz/yd² (153 g/m²) light/medium weight
• Shoulder-to-shoulder taping
• Quarter-turned to avoid crease down the center 

Size guide