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The Set Up 2

Nobody knew Buzzard’s real name. There was a reason for this; if you had aname like Horace Hieronymous Toozfetz, you probably wouldn’t go aroundadvertising it either. Some people might say that it’s a bit of anoverreaction to become an outlaw biker just because your parents gave you aname you didn’t like. Of course, the people

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The Set Up 3

Ace sat at a booth near the back of the bar and sipped his beer. The Midnite Club, a private club in the French quarter of New Orleans, was where he liked to go when he had to lay low. Right now, Ace was laying lower than a snake’s belly, at least until the heat

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The Set Up 4

In the back woods of the New Jersey Pine Barrens, there is a small, winding road that does not appear on any map, and which few have ever traveled. It winds around over the tops of the hills, through lush groves scented by pine trees, where white-tailed deer leap gracefully over fallen logs and squirrels

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The Set Up

Francis “Ace” Calhoun awoke with the fear, accompanied by guilt, which wasa bit odd. It wasn?t that Ace didn’t have plenty to feel guilty about. In his 32 years, he had been involved in as much debauchery as any 10 pimps or con men. He had slept with his best friend’s wife and his wife’s

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June 06, 2010

KILLER SUNDAY POST – NOISE ISSUES, SHERIFF REPORTS IN, NEW FROM RENEGADE, ROGUE TECH TIP AND MORE… Hey, Summer is headed directly at us like a sun-lit Tsunami. Already, all June weekends are packed; Rips BAD ride next weekend, Dixon antique swapmeet next, Valerie is flying in for a fitment on the Assalt Weapan. Tuning

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Assalt Weapan On The Salt

Grab the whole rewritten story in this fantastic book. Just click on the image. Another update… Yesterday was a complete bust. Valerie made a pass on the International track, she did 151, however a major storm blew threw and she was not able to make her back up pass. We hustled to get the tents

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Quest for Sturgis

I had ceased to trust El Cid after the knife incident in New Mexico. I had stress fractures forming in my brittle psyche. I could feel the paranoia drifting in through every pore that wasn’t already blocked with bug guts, salt, or 60-weight bike oil. Every access point-the nostrils, the ears, the parched tear ducts,

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