. Ducati Riders Busted .

. Yet Again


It was a beautiful Saturday. No wind, perfect temperature, light traffic. We were droning down the freeway when we passed on onramp. As was customary, we glanced in our rearview to see if The Man was parked up top waiting to pick people off. Sure enough, a black-and-white headed down the ramp and was soon on us. Knowing he was there, we stayed dead on the limit. He followed us until we got off the freeway. That's when he pulled us over.

Bruce W. on his tricked-out 996 thinks he's some superhero. He starts waving his fist at the cop. The cop stays behind his car and is yelling at us on his megaphone. I mean, we're not deaf. We don't need the guy doing the riot-control act. Red just sits on his 900ss waiting for the whole thing to blow up. He doesn't care; he just fights his way out of every situation. Thinks he's some goddamn Power Ranger or something.

I'm sitting on my Monster feeling kind of exposed. I mean, not only did I forget to pack my license, I don't have the right gear on (if I weren't so hairy I'd basically be naked) and I haven't been wearing my helmet because they crush my ears. Turns out the cop just wanted to pull me over, but because Bruce W. was so belligerent, it all gets out of hand.

I finally get off my bike (I'm kind of short so I had to hop off) and I approach the cop with my hands up. I said, "Look, officer, Easter's coming up and it's an important time for me. I'm kind of a goodwill ambassador for the occasion and I was just on my way to get some eggs to dye. You know how much kids love the Easter egg hunt."

The cop has a hard time arguing with that. I mean, look at me; my translucent red eyes and alabaster coat embody innocence. He gives me a stern warning about my lack of gear and lets us go. I am relieved, not because I avoid a ticket, but because my stupid superhero buddies don't get in yet another over-the-top BIFF-POW, CHOP CHOP! altercation.

The gas attendant caught the action and sent me a photo so I can relive this special day.

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