I know the place and after my pit stop at wallie world, I am headed there quick. Hellfire does not like excuses, especially from me. I kill my lights a half mile away, no use in drumming up the natives. I slide my bike into the woods about 300 feet up the road in the woods.

I look over the place, making certain no one is watching and start toward the darker side. Stencil and paint in hand, ready to hit when the moments right.

2008-09-24 15:09:52 Stevie rolls 7 dice to Sneaking(dex+ste) 2,6,8,4,10, 1,5,9 (3 successes) Diff 6

2008-09-24 15:11:21 Stevie rolls 5 dice to Watching(per+ale) 10,6,5,5,8 (3 successes) Diff 6

2008-09-24 15:39:06 Radiation rolls 5 dice to per+alert (Diff 7) 3,7,2,4,9 (2 successes)

Stevie will spot one bearded man in an Outlaws vest leaning against a wall of what looks like a small garage. Next to the garage is the clubhouse with a front porch and a row of Harleys outside.

There are voices coming from inside, a heated discussion about leadership or some shit. The one man standing guard is quietly smoking, as if just trying to eavesdrop inside rather than really stand guard. Stevie will get past him easily and the three hidden sides of the garage should provide ample smooth surfaces for tagging.

 Well with uncle Jessie out of the way I pull my props and get to work. I tag it over all three sides trying to get it near the road for higher visibility. I get that itch I usually get from this sort of thing, but orders are orders and I know if I want my jones fixed I best do exactly what he wants no tomfoolery.

I don't exactly know what all this is about but I don't ask any questions, they get you a black eye fast.

I sneak back the way I came, the longer they don't notice it the better. Not that I really want to be toe to toe with a bunch of inbred Dukes from Hazzard.

2008-09-24 16:48:40 Stevie rolls 7 dice to Sneaking(dex+ste) 2,4,2,5,2, 4,2 (failure) (diff 6)

As Stevie comes around the corner he will notice he has the bearded bikers back turned to him. Its too good to be true...

And no sooner does he make a break for it does half the motorcycle club come pouring out of the clubhouse doors in an uproar. One man is shoved off teh stairs and to the ground with a crunch, four larger, stronger looking bikers seem ready to take on the rest of the club.

Somewhere in the chaos someone spots Stevie though, just one guy, a little slow who smacks one of his buddies.

'Hey, who da fuck is that?'

Fuck, damn the luck

I could either run but their Harleys would catch me in minutes or there are always other alternatives...

I stop in my tracks and start looking around as if I were sizing the place up.

"You the fellows I am supposed to be meeting?" trying to pick out their leader while looking like I belong here.

2008-09-26 09:04:58 Stevie rolls 6 dice to Charisma+Streetwise 6,8,7,5,10, 8 (5 successes)(diff 6)

2008-09-26 09:06:26 Stevie rolls 6 dice to per + streetwise 1,10,10,7,2, 8 (3 successes)(diff 6)

"Well? Damn near couldn't find the place, like you got lost in a deliverance movie. Word round the campfire says you fellows are looking for some stuff and I am Saint Nich. Well Ho Ho Ho mother fuckers, you gonna offer me a beer?"  

--Last edited by Stevie on 2008-09-26 11:07:16 --

2008-09-27 07:53:45 Biker leader rolls 5 dice to per and empathy (+1 diff due to anger/distraction) (Diff 7) 8,5,7,3,1 (1 success)
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The biggest of the group steps forward. His jacket only says vice-president, but noone is wearing the presidents jacket anymore...

The big man sizes up Stevie with wary eyes.

'You are the sheriffs green dealing lackey?'

 "Hells no, if thats all you all were wanting I sure wasted my fucking time. I gots the real shit, man. Ice, meth,and crank my man. I hear you all are looking for a supply so I came a knocking. I just been a bit busy securing my line, so I assume you all are the interested parties or am I at the wrong biker joint in the woods? Figured you all wanted to sample the goods so I decided I'd swing by and have a pow wow, eh kimosabe. Well the night air is great for me and all, the bugs and shit is telling me we needs to go inside and talk trade," continuing to walk forward headed towards the bar as if he was supposed to be here. He figures what self respecting biker gang doesn't deal meth and the lack of the 'president' suggests he can play up that this other cat set the shit up and never mentioned it.  

If Sam were still among them, leading them, Stevie would be getting his ass kicked and dumped outside... Sam was always against hard drugs and kept the palce running, somehow, on just weed money...

Half th arguement tonight was over expanding to harder stuff or sticking with the plan and moving on to gun money... Guns kill more directly than meth, but they sure feel cleaner from the dealer standpoint.

There is a clear division of the club when Stevie starts talking about the harder drugs.

The big guy in the vice-president jacket seems to approve but alot of the underlings dont. Something is not right with this group, if they can even be called such anymore... They fall right back into bickering and yelling and getting in eachothers big drunk faces.

Stevie, for the moment, will be ignored as tempers flare yet again.

 "Look it seems everyones not exactly in agreement here, why don't you call me when you get this all sorted out. You all seem like decent guys I am certain it will only take a little while," while grabbing a pen and piece of paper jotting down my cell number.

"You mind if I can at least have a beer with you before I gotta get back on the road? That drive is a mother fucker," as he laughs trying to diffuse the situation and get them back into the clubhouse.

The bikers bicker for a minute before Stevie is waved inside by the big dude in the vice president jacket.

About half the club gets on their bikes and take off. The remaining ones are the four biggest guys and a few of the others.

The inside of the clubhouse looks like a pool hall. The room reeks of smoke and whiskey and is built entirely from rough wood giving it a very rustic, manly feel.

'Dont mind them, they are so into their own green they need to throw a fit before they remember whos in charge.'

The big guy in the vice president jacket says.

'My names Max, im in charge around here.' He tells Stevie offering him a seat and signalling for a round of drinks.

 "Real woodsy sort of place," as he reaches into his jacket producing a small bag of meth and tossing it at Max.

"Names Jimmy, nice to meet you. Hells yeah, I been cravin a nice frosty one. Thats for a sample, try it out, sell it, whatever. Just to show you my goods before you decide to buy. So Max, sounds like your boys might have to be switched after all that, my momma did and it sure kept me in line," with a chuckle.

"So you boys look to be expanding, guess the clubs rolling well. I'm a city cat, Shit I don't even know the bad end of a possum and mosquitoes don't give me the warm fuzzies so I guess I'll learn if I'm gonna be driving out this way more."

Max passes off the bag of meth off to one of the otehr bikers for testing.

'You cook that yourself Jimmy or are you just the legs of the operation?'

He nods agreement about some of his guys needing a good beatdown. It keeps everyone in line when they realize this is not a fucking democracy...

'Were looking for a place in the city, so you might not have to come all the way out here all the time. We have some other buisness ventures that will be requiring space... and if your meth is good we will both be happy.'

Max nods to Stevie. With Sam gone expansion will happen so much faster... no more selling weed for a year just to get another bike. Its time to move hard drugs and firearms.. and find another blood donor to keep his edge.

 "I used to, now I just sell the formula and the gear. No use getting crazy wacked over this shit," as he guzzles the beer.

"Well well, from the looks of this place seems you might want to be moving up in the world. Not much bank out here in the sticks, unless you start trading in beat up fords and pine needles. Looks like you got an eye to the future and that means Sanfield proper. Lotta places in the old factory area are real cheap, probably get in for a steal if you start looking."

'Thats the plan.'

Max admits, signalling one of the girls to get Stevie another beer.

'How much does your formula and setup go for?'

Max asks. He doesnt have a chemist, but thats another problem for another day.

 "Well, the chemicals are not too bad. Usually about 20% of the product, and the rig, well that will run you anywhere from a few hundred to three or four g's. I mean you can cook that shit on the stove, but bathtub meth only has certain key selling points. With a better rig you can do more and produce a cleaner product, higher marketability. Guess it just hinges on your buyers and no one knows their customers better then you. Hell once you got the set up a trained monkey can make it. Its usually the initial capital that users don't have. Not saying they are bad folk, but they usually are not rolling in the Benjamin's with an eye to the future. Their methheads with a distinct problem and have been up for four days high as shit. That tends to diminish their ability to think clearly," certainly not anything he didn't know, but explaining the way shit works assures you of a good buyer. No surprises is a motto Stevie's sworn by for a good long time.

'Sounds like you know your stuff Jimmy. Ill have my boys feel out the local market over the next few days and ill give you a call with what setup we will need.'

Max almost smirks, Sam would be in a screaming frenzy if he were here to hear all this. His weed only policy will be what pays for the jump to meth and firearms...

 "Well that sounds great," as he downs another beer.

"Its been real, and I appreciate the pow wow. I'll look forward to hearing from you soon," giving him a handshake.

He starts back toward the door, leaving along the road on foot. He walks long enough to make certain they are not following before going into the woods to retrieve his bike.

Not really exactly how he imagined that meeting, but it could have gone a lot worse. Now to see if Hellfire is as pleased, maybe he might get that fix he has been needing at least and he could really use a nob slobbing...