You’ve heard us refer to our “wretched minions” before. Occasionally we call them “execrable flunkies” too, and not without cause. These terms refer to the abject writing team that serves us as we continue to conquer the world writes for us as we try to educate and entertain you. The title Minion (which, as some of you know, we were using loooong before there was a Despicable Me movie) is a highly coveted one. It’s an appellation that requires a great struggle, effort, and perspicuity. So, we decided to honor the members of our crew (though they don’t deserve it) with a Minion Patch that identifies them as what they are — members of a select group of eeee-lite writers and photographers. The only way to own one of these patches is to have written at least a dozen published articles on Breach-Bang-Clear or worked as a member of our support cadre for several years.

That was our original plan anyway. Then we remembered we like money and that we’re shameless capitalists. See, we like craft beer, fine cigars, good steaks and hawt dancing moms. You have to have money for those. So, we decided to make these patches available to the public and sell them to our readers.

At a ridiculous price.

Because, capitalism.

Men have killed for lesser prizes than these patches, the simple wearing of which will make lesser humans weep and moan. Anyone wearing such a patch is not only guaranteed to look eleventy times cooler than the common folk around them, they’ll automatically strike terror into the hearts of window-licking fuckwits like Joy Behar and Bill Maher and anyone who appreciates their politics. The question isn’t why you’d want one of these patches, the question is why wouldn’t you want to own one of these?

Maybe you’d rather rock a Che Guevara shirt instead, in which case you should not be allowed to breed.

Now you can either work your ass off for us and earn it (the way Merrill, Hernandez, Orth, Kupa and the others do) or…bypass the toil altogether, do it the lazy way and just buy one. Single dancing moms don’t tip themselves and we can’t pay our writers with just our appreciation — though to be completely honest, most of that miserable lot should be happy we acknowledge them at all. So here we are.

Interestingly, one single patch was purchased when we first went live at the same price of our others (it was about $7). We hadn’t finished updating the store yet and didn’t realize they were already live.

You’re one lucky bastard, whoever you are. Everyone else is going to pay a ludicrous amount of money for theirs.

Go buy a patch right now. Show the world how munificent, magnificent and sublimely majestic you are. Sure, it’s a couple hundred bucks, but that’s still cheaper (and less painful) than getting your bore punched at the local clinic.

Oh, you can also get a patch by supporting us on Patreon if you want to do it that way (might be a little cheaper).