Probie! yelled the crippled old biker,
"I aint' your probie you ol' coot!"
well...whatever the hell you are, come'on over here and give me a hand locking
this sumanabitch up!
yeah...thought the young biker, you probably couldn't even pick up that chain and lock.
"why you gotta lock that old rusty piece of shit up for anyway?
nobody in their right mind would wanta steal that!"
it ain't so nobody'll steal it, it's so we don't steal out into the night! dumbass!
"yeah..right pops...you and this old knucklehead...like it would run, or you could even hold it up, ya crippled old bastard!"
watch your smartmouth sonny...I guess you aint been around long enough to be here on Halloween night?
"don't worry pops, I'll take care of it, you go back and sit in your rocking chair"
I think I will kid, I ain't feelin so good.
the old guy shuffled over and fell into the chair, moments later he was out like a light.
the young guys phone rang, it was Sherri, the new hot young barmaid down at the tavern..
he was on that like white on rice!
dusk came, the old man slept,
and in the eriest light of night, the metamorphisis began...
like a Ray Bradbury novel, the bike began changing...
rust off the fork legs, fell to the ground, shining chrome beneath appearing,
dust, erased itself, the peanut tank glistened once again in the 20 coats of hand rubbed
Pagan gold laquer.
the old avons, once flat and dry rotted, refilled themselves with air, the spokes shining,
the torn old bates, the seat that had seen more miles, than the bike itself, softened it's black leather inviting the slumbering rider.
miraculously the knuckle started on it's own, the tall upsweeps spitting out flames as the knuckle roared into life...
what the hell? yelled the old man as he woke
I thought I told that young pup to lock us up!
the rocker clutch disengaged, the jockey shifter slapped itself into first and slipped the clutch and roared up to the old man, reving up it's engine, the knuckle head urged the old biker up out of his chair.
somanabitch said the old man, I'm getting to old for this shit..
when he suddenly fell to his knees.
he wiggled and moaned and rolled on his side yelling about his damn arthiritis...
and finally stopped.
he got up off the floor, now standing some six foot tall, all muscular and buff...
shining black hair, not a gray one left insight, arms that were once frail, now had bicepts
that any young man would be envious off.
okay girl, you win said the old? man, let's go for a ride.
he tossed his leg over the bike, dropped the clutch, and put that 21 up in the sky!
they blasted down the road, leaves flying in the breeze left behind the screaming harley,
slapping gears, and twisting the throttle on the old? linkert.
they pulled into the parking lot, hours later,
the stud biker strolled into the local bar, right up to the bar and ordered a Bud.
'hey handsome, smiled Sherri, take a young girl out for a¿ ride?'
" I thought we were going out tonight Sherri" said the young pipsqueek scooter trainee
'sorry darlin...it's not everynight a stud and his steed strolls in this water hole!' said Sherri
she rounded the end of the bar, took the beer from the big biker, said ' there's plenty more of these at my place sugar'
the stud biker put his arm around her waist, grabbed her cheek, and headed for the door...
the young guy stood and stammered "but...but........but......"
the big biker turned around , winked at the kid, and said...I told ya to lock us up...
now I got your girl too....but don't worry.....you can have her when ¿I get done with her, and then¿I won't be back again until next year....