Evil, thy name is Shirty: Redux

Shirty did a strange thing the other day.

And, frankly, we're a little worried.

Typically, the appeal of Shirty is that it - in all of it's hideous hilarity (or, hidelarity - thanks Eric!) - makes the face look creepy. Notwithstanding the usually-whited-out eyes. That messes you up on a whole other level.

But, that's the thing; once in awhile, Shirty will throw you a curveball just to see if you're paying attention. Shirts these days; nothing but belligerence...and comfort. But mostly belligerence. And Shirty is no exception.

So...yeah. Into the office I trudge, only to be confronted by a spectacle unknown before. For, in it's transformation, the new face of Shirty actually made the shirt creepy instead of the intended opposite result.

At this point, it can be deduced that, simply, all the properties of the universe have become their inversion - "hot snow falls up," in the words of the great poet Homer - as a mystical object with unlimited potential to increase the creepy-factor of any face has in and of itself become more creepy via it's natural transmogrification.

I have looked into the yawning abyss, and oddly enough, it looks like a ranch called Neverland.