ONE

“I swear to God, I ain’t never seen nothin’ like it since!” Stephano claims. Let me sum it up for you: Stephano is a fucking liar… maybe. I’ll never be quite sure. Let me tell you this, Stephano has never once told me a true story; or at least they all seem like utter bull shit. He once told me that the FBI was onto him.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“Well you see” he says, and then he gets this stupid shit eating grin on his face, a type of grin that says: I’m yanking your balls Charlie. “I was riding down the road on my motorcycle one day…”

TWO

And here’s how it goes: Steve Post aka “Stephano” was riding down the road on a 1980 something Honda motorcycle. God knows why, but the man was grocery shopping that day.  Yes you heard me correctly, grocery shopping, whilst riding a motorcycle. His “trunk” so to speak was a milk crate zip tied to the back of his Honda.

Now let me tell you something, Steve was a speed junkie; sucks his Honda was a piece of shit. However. Cruising down US 40 at a leisurely 110 miles per hour tickled his fancy. Ten miles from home he encountered a motorcycle gang, Hell’s Angles to be exact. They were spread out all over the road. Their huge ass Harley Davidson motorcycles creating a cacophony that manifested itself into a collective of people that can only be described as “utter faggotry”.

“So you know what I did?” Stephano asks me.

“What did you do?” I respond, trying to egg him on.

“I’ll tell you what the fuck I did.” He says.

Stephano did the stupidest thing imaginable.

“I swear to fuckin’ God” he says, which is his first tell of bull shittery.
THREE

But to tell it in his own words. Steve sped up to 140 miles per hour (incapable of a 90’s Honda motorcycle) and blared on his horn. The Hell’s Angels were spread out across the road in all directions, impossible to pass. However due to adept driving skill Stephano was able to pass through all of them, weaving and speeding through the crowd, an impressive feat.

“You’re all a bunch of dick lickers, I’m gonna call the cops.” He declared.

Apologies from the narrator, the year was 2012: Steve pulled out his pre-paid Nokia and called the police.

He veered his motorcycle into the parking lot of a local grocery store.

“Hello is this 911?” he asks.

“Yes sir it is. What is your emergency?” the operator responds.

“Let me tell you something: these mother fuckers are all over the fucking road, they’re a hassle to everyone. They tried to run me off the road!” Stephano tells the operator.

“Where are you sir?”

“I’m outside the Dollar General in Knightstown.”

“We will send someone right over.”


FOUR

Jeffrey VanHoy was the newest police officer in Knightstown. He had just recently graduated from the Police Academy. It was his first day on the job, he had no idea what he was in for. VanHoy