You look down at your body clad in black leather, well worn black leather.
There are numerous pins from all the runs you've been on. As you look at them, each one has memories attached.
This can't be happening, you have all the memories associated with a life as a biker. You're hairy, muscular if well padded body is strong and you've got the fighting skills to go with it. You know you can kick the shit out a good number of guys without breaking a sweat.
You remember hanging around the guys in the club as a teenager and being a prospect in your late teens and early twenties. Becoming a full member at 23, some jail time in your mid twenties to early thirties, it's why you're so heavily covered in muscle and so good at kicking ass. It also explains some of the scars and almost all of your tats. You worked out excessively to become so strong.
You head spins as it all comes flooding back to you. You're Grizz and no one fucks with Grizz unless Grizz is doin' the fuckin'!
You run your hand through your thick and now much longer braided beard, adjusting the ponytail in the back and thinking about the initiation ceremony for your club has your eight inch long extra wide cock stiff. You rub it thinking about your own initation into the brotherhood.
Instinctively you pat your chest feeling for the cigars in their carrying case in your vest. You know where your Zippo lighter is too, right in your left front pocket.
It's time to get the Hell out of here and meet up with your bros, you're initiating some new prospects into the Brotherhood of Pain tonight!