"These godless heathen doofs think just because we died in last years race means we can't take it all this time. HA. It'll be years before the cocaine river masquerading as my bloodstream lets this obliterated old body rest!
Hold on to your mescaline, ya big Somoan spook, we're going back to... BAT COUNTRY!"
When I think biker clubs, I think Hell's Angels. When I think Hell's Angels, I think Hunter S. Thompson going gonzo right through their insane parade. So I brought him and his mysteriously missing attorney back for a round of good times and bad habits.