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hangers and extended forks, but there were a few with drag bars. It was a virtual parade of customization. Wolf rode by me without a word as I pretended to repair my bike. Most of the Wolf Pack didn’t even glance at me. They were almost completely past me when the tail gunner stopped and looked at me as if I were a shit covered dog. “Would you like some help with that?” he asked in a high patronizing tone. “Um...sure, I suppose,” I stammered in reply. “Good! I’ll enjoy shoving that slow piece of rice shit crotch rocket over the cliff.” The rest of the Wolfpack had stopped to listen to the exchange. They were all chuckling. Naturally, I was I bit put out by this suggestion.
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