I bought Shake. My brother bought Bake. As soon as we received our shirts, we opened the box and a bald eagle with a mullet flew out at top speed. We took this as a good omen. As we tried on our new Shake & Bake shirts, we felt the power of the sweet baby Jesus. With a fist bump, we sent dick-shrinking shockwaves across the Middle East. We flew into the car, punched the gas at full speed, crashed through a meth lab, and landed in a waffle house. Our minds merged, and we became one massive, waffle-eating, beer-chugging, commie-crushing, American winning machine. With these Shake & Bake shirts, we won every single street race we entered. In fact, we started getting bored. So we took a shit on a cop car, and then outran the entire fleet of state troopers. There’s no stopping the Shake & Bake brothers!
