Genghis Khan, Kurt Cobain, maybe Madeleine McCann, apparently hip hop and even Jesus. Death eventually comes for us all until one day when someone came for Death...

Death was having a banging Friday, ploughing through his scroll of names and was due to clock off early ready for the weekend. How ideal that the last name on the list was situated in a pub a few houses down from Death’s door. Sweet, he thought, top this bugger and crack a cold one.

As Death approached the hunched back of a man who had barrowed the world a hundred times over, the man asked “Can I buy you a pint?”

Death taken aback, not by the communication, many folk have seen Death coming, but by the kind offering of a cool beverage.

“Sure!” Death replied.

“PINT” bellowed the man, the bartender obliged.

A long sleeve was served to Death’s dismay but Death proceeded to suck back the amber, anguish receding with every gulp.

“Cheers” the man proposed “To Life”

HILARIOUS Death thought. Conversation gew and Chalice’s were drained.

“Did you always want to be Death?” the man enquired through slurs of vowels.

“No, not always” Death answered. “For the longest time I wanted to die” he mused.

“The way the world sets you up to be a sucker to the system, doing things you don’t love, buying things you don’t love, one day you realize you’ve been wasting your life and you just want to die. That was me. Stood atop a building and with Death calling, I jumped… Then as if by coincidence this dark cloth was cast out of a window. Entwined as I plummeted, it felt so good against my skin. ‘This is not just any old shity hood, this is that Organic Cotton Hemp blend them GreenPeace fuckers kept going on about’ I thought. And in my dying metres a strange compulsion to put the hood on came over me. And to my surprise I landed on my feet, intact, face not through arsehole! I didn’t want to die anymore! And all it took was Death to stop me dying…. And perhaps this dopeass hood, but now I wanted to spread the joy of Death to everybody! Plus in the hood pocket it came with this sweet sickle, and this ain’t one of them barley cutting joints, this one of them throat scythes innit”

“Interesting….” the man pondered eyeing up the sweet blade. Suddenly the man lurched at Death, pint in one hand, scythe in other and slit Death’s throat wider than a post labour fanny.

The man pulled off Death’s hood and lay it over his surly, calloused body. Immediately he felt a lightness of heart, he no longer had a need for beer and allowed the glass to shatter on the floor adding hues of nectar to the scarlet set body beside him.

Freedom was what the man was experiencing! For many moons he proceeded to follow his heart and it said: dig jumps, ride bikes, drink beer… but technically you’re not like, addicted… you’re like in control and you just enjoy it… and be free of the confines of society.

On every jump, with every shovel, every quenched thirst he relished in the comfort of Death’s hood…

 

This is that Hood

 

6 colour screen print on a "Olive" coloured hoodie, made from a blend of sustainably sourced Hemp (55%) and Organic Cotton Fleece (45%) 

Hoodie

C$80.00Price