A terrible pain is there they crimp the bones when they twist the head suddenly the blood roars the neck is red as they do not worry about people like myself they laugh and draw the pistol and they smile out the side of the mouth they still spit that chaw it dribbles down the chins to land on necks of red. They speak if asked to say they say you are in the file. The file? yes the file. The one thats under trigger finger the nail file of my gun. That one. Thats a reddnecked telling joke. So they left the bar revving up them engines whine out they went as eye heard them go bye one man was at the edge of the group shouting at the last man in line. There was Eight Harley Riders each one the same size Gas Tank the same size byke parts the same year model except for the fact that seven of them Gas Tanks was painted powder blue and only one of them was painted black and this one was smaller then the rest of the blue ones by several gallon sizes. The leader of the group was the last in line eye could clearly hear him saying to the black gas tanked man "It is too bad that we all do not have gas" in a strang reddnecked voice. He always rides beside the victum. They promised him a share in victories and half of all the women. When they made camp each man took a piece of the byke they needed to be kept for emergency use and they each man took off a glove or a boot whatever they decided they man now needed for they had a code of brotherly love. We have to have your byke old TOM but here is clothes to wear to get you back to town start walking old sod. TOm lives on a hillside near the eye in DUrango now. Kicked out by them reddnecked harley posse on the trail out of Colorado.
