Rictus didn’t sign up to fix your life, and he definitely doesn’t care about your problems.

He just happened to crawl out of the wreckage when the world fell apart, and honestly, it was cutting into his snack time.

He’s not impressed by your emergency... or anything else, for that matter. As the spokesperson, mascot, and biggest troublemaker at Disaster Tees, he only cares about two things: surviving the apocalypse and looking ridiculously good doing it.

He prefers his music loud, his drops rare, and his cotton heavy. Buy the shirt, or don’t; he gets paid in chaos either way. If you miss the drop window, don’t bother complaining to customer service—Rictus already fired them.

And if things somehow work out in the end? Don’t thank him. He hates that.