Woulda, shoulda, coulda, sire. Hide her can of spray starch. Slip her a roofie. Put the t-shirt on her while she's passed out. Take plenty of photos of her wearing said t-shirt. Slip the t-shirt off of her. And then ... take the best shots and have hundreds of glossy 8x10s, suitable for handing out amongst your loyal townspeople, and hundreds of 24x36s, suitable for yard signs and posters, made up for future use. She won't think anything of it ... at least until the next time she calls you an asshole.

The essential American soul is hard, isolate, stoic, and a killer. It has never yet melted. ~ D.H. Lawrence