Hells Outlaws Med(usa)

Chapter 4 prez

What in the ever loving fuck have I done to myself now!

And pops the bastard just stood there laughing his ass off at me. I grabbed the bottle of Jack I kept in my bottom draw, away from these thieving bastards and took a swig leaving the room.

Fucking old man.

Time to face the jackasses.

I walked out of my office and back towards the main bar area. There are very few people here now that I've called church.

My second ( I guess third now) prospect is behind the bar, Chunk. Built like a brick shit house. Taller than my six foot six by a few inches and not far off as wide. If I'm being honest I don't think he'll make it. He's already had his year of prospecting extended for six months, two months of that remains. He's lazy, not respectful considering his position but a nice guy it was hard to find someone who didnt genuinely him. Its a shame but we aren't here to be lazy.

I nod to him as I walk past but as usual he doesn't really pay much attention.

'Hi prez' calls Rosie as she walks in from the kitchen. Lovely girl, long blond hair, she's pretty. She's got more balls and know how than chunk does, she was in her early twenties and already the club owed her so much.

Chunk stood there as Rosie, the waiter, does his job for him. She rolls her eyes as she passes with a tray in her left hand and nudges him as she passes, again he's oblivious. Pops follows behind me and Hollers at him to pay attention.

Sighing in exasperation I continue to church.

Walking down a corridor much like the one leading to my office I walk into the room we call church.

It's a room with a big table and chairs all around. Old cuts from previous members hang on the walls. Pictures of them are beside it. 'Never forget' is scripted above.

Hells outlaws only show thoes who left respectfully not those who didn't made it as a full member or who had done wrong. On the other wall is a blown up picture of our sigual, or colours as some like to call it, a naked bike doing a wheelie. It's good work, pops was apart of the first hells outlaws and drew it himself. Its something we're still proud of today.

There were a hundreds of mock patches stuck to the wall too;

Ass, gas, or grass no one rides for free

My other toy has tits

Goes faster than a crack heads giro

And other stupid shit but thoes were not the patches my men wore. President is mine for obvious reasons, pops currently is the vice president but he only holds the title as the longest standing member and hates the title and can't wait to pass it on,  even if he wears the patch with pride.

Our second longest standing member is our treasurer, before all this he was an accountant back in the late 80s before he joined. He watches over all the money to ensure everything is running smoothly. He's thinner than pops, bold with a clean shaven face and a pair of glasses either on his nose or head.  He's known as rooster or roost, forever up at the crack of dawn coockdooling about some shit. I don't think theirs a man alive other than pops who even knows his real name anymore.

The twins stretch and jester both hold patches too, stretch being the secretary as he's always serious and diligent too quick with his fists to be an Enforcer and his brother to quick with a Jest to take anything to seriously. Jester holds the title of road captain, always quick to plan events, charity rides and such. Believe it or not rooster was the unruly pairs farther and they were the two first legacys our club had ever had we were finally hitting second generation.