I could hear the muffled sound of the phone ringing in the next room. I tried to focus on the clock, but my eyes were drowning with the remnants of the previous night. The soft body next to me reminded me I wasn’t alone. I could see her auburn red hair and smell the sweet smell of her perfume. I could tell from the horrid taste in my mouth, I smoked again last night. I hate when I wake up with the “cat just shit in my mouth” taste.

“Hey Humble, it’s me, Wilburn, where are ya?” I looked over the luscious ass of the beauty in my bed to see Wilburn Roach’s ugly mug peering through the stained yellow glass of my trailer’s bedroom vista. He looked fried as usual, I knew this couldn’t be good.

“What’s up?” I whispered trying not to wake my guest when I heard the shower running. Holy shit, I landed two of these lovelies last night!

Wilburn signaled for me to meet him at the front door. I didn’t know what in the hell he wanted, but whatever it was, I wanted to be through with it and get back to my blooming flowers.

I grabbed a sheet off the hamper to cover my naked ass and made my way to the screen door, grabbing a beer from the counter on the way. The trailer was a wreck as if I partied a little with the honies before we hit the sack. Damn I wish I could remember last night! I opened the screen door to the familiar screech of the rusty springs when Wilburn Roach, Bandit’s longtime running mate, came limping around the corner.

“Hey Humble, Bandit sent me to deliver this package,” he handed me a manila envelope unmarked except for the red stamped CONFIDENTIAL on the cover. “Man, whatever you do, you better get right on it. He actually tossed this story to Wrench, but he is swamped with the Bonneville project and passed it down to me. I’ve been making border runs to Jaurez to score antique bike parts and haven’t had the time to get it going.”

“So I guess you expect me to bail your sorry ass out again?” This wasn’t the first time the old hophead came to me for a last minute rescue. The last time cost me 5 grand and I almost lost a finger!

“Look, I’ll get you some good shit for you and the ladies. C’mon man, I need your help.” He always whines like a bitch when he needs something.

“Ok shithead, what do you have?” I opened the package to the pictures of this bare bones little beauty from Brass Balls in Oklahoma City.

“Nice bike, what’s the story?” I asked.

“Nobody knows. Dar sent the pics to Bandit with the mechanical highlights, said he would be out of town and he needs a name for this new model. He'll give the creator a major prize. They can send entries to Brass Balls or to Bandit@bikernet.com. Bandit said to post it on Bikernet for our readers ASAP.”

“When did you get the pics?” I asked expecting the worst.

“Ha. I actually had them last week but have been too screwed up and buzzed to finish between the runs and the smokes.” He instinctively backed away from the steps of my doublewide knowing I was ready to kick the shit out of his incompetent ass. Just as I prepared for a roundkick to his head, he jumped aboard the blacked out Road King with bars to the stars and screamed over his shoulder, “I told Bandit you’ve had it since last Wednesday. Good Luck!” with that he sped off through my trailer park giggling like a retarded monkey.

Last Wednesday….FUCK! Bandit’s going to be on the hunt. I could smell my ladies waiting for me and the one in the bed was beginning to stir, so here it is. This is the latest creation from Dar’s company, Brass Balls Bobbers. He has the Bobber, The Chopper, and now this. Check out the pics and enjoy the follwing specs about the bike.

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