Steve's roommate Dix arrived home late. His motorcycle broke down, and he walked it home. He had a replacement chain in the garage, but he was out of lube. He went inside to see if there was anything he could use to lube the chain, so he could ride to work in the morning. Steve was snoring, but had left the jar of Salve on the counter. Dix opened the jar, sniffed the salve, and then stuck his index and middle finger in.
"Nice and oily," he whispered to himself, "This should do nicely."
He went down to the garage, and lubed up the new chain on his bike and tightened it.
In the morning, Steve woke up. Dix was nowhere to be seen. Then, Steve noticed Dixon's keys on the counter where the salve had been. He picked them up and headed downstairs to the garage to see if Dix's bike was there. When he entered the garage, Steve's jaw dropped. There was Dix's bike, but it wasn't just a bike, it was Dix too. They motorcycle was covered in Dix's flesh and hair. The open half-empty jar of salve lay on the concrete next to the bike. Dixon's empty clothes lay in a heap on top of his boots next to the motorcycle and a rag.
"Dix?" Steve asked.
Dix's face was now between the handlebars with his eyes closed. He didn't wake when Steve called his name or even when Steve tapped Dixon's forehead with his fist. Steve looked at the motorcycle key in his hand, and at the key slot behind Dix's head. Steve stuck the key in and turned the motorcycle's power on.
"Whoa!" shouted Dix, "What the fuck happened to me? Dude, get me off, start my engine, puh-lease!" Dix begged.
"Dix?"
"Yo, Steve, bro? What the hell was in that salve of yours? I put it on my bike chain, and I melted and merged with my bike. It's so fucking cool, except for the part about having to have a key stuck in me to talk. Now start my engine, and we can go for a ride, Steve?"
Steve looked at the kick-starter and frowned, it looked like Dix's boner. He picked up the jar of salve, and screwed the lid on.