Gretchen, The Hell's Angels....And Me. The End.

When we left off, Gretchen was trying to get me into a fight with a young dumb ass who was probably unaware that he was being played like a cheap fiddle. The crowd was getting rowdy and someone had "tipped" the band with a brand new chain saw.

Back To The Story.....

As I sat at the bar during the break, Gretchen sidled up to me with Chase in tow. She snuggled in close and whispered in my ear.

"Wanna go out to the van?"

I looked at her as if she had sprouted a second head and simply shook my head.

"No thanks" I said.

She spun around, grabbed Chase and began dancing seductively to the music of the juke box. I could see her talking to him furiously. Suddenly, Chase broke off their embrace and came storming up to me.

"You got a problem with me?" he demanded.

"What's that sonny?" I asked.

"Who are you callin' "Sonny"?"

"Boy, you're lettin' that little girl lead you into an ass whippin'. She ain't worth it so...why don't you go back over there and tell her all about how you chewed me out and frightened me to death.....before you get hurt." I said quietly.

All men, especially young, drunk men have a delicate ego and, as long as they don't feel as though they've been publicly shamed, they'll back off. So, I was being very quiet...I didn't want to wound his ego.

Chase wasn't buyin' it.

"Who's gonna hurt me?" he snapped.

I really was in no mood for his macho antics.

I was taller, twenty or thirty pounds heavier, older and, I was pretty sure, much more capable of kickin' his ass than he was of kickin' mine so.....I tried again.

"Chase...I don't want to fight you so, I'm asking you politely to leave me alone. Go back to Gretchen and ya'll have a good time." I said nicely AND quietly.

Well, the little puke decided to shove me off the barstool which, to his credit, he did. I half fell, half hopped off the barstool and landed heavily against a biker chick who was seated beside me.

She, in turn, bumped into a biker dude seated beside her. Sort of a biker dominoe type deal.

Of course, the biker chick yells out, the biker dude stands up and glares at me and Chase decides to take a swing at me.

You can always tell when a guy can't fight by the way the punch is telegraphed. Sometimes it's a wild look on their face just before they throw the punch. Sometimes it's the assuming of a "stance". With this moron, it was both.

He may have just as well slipped me a handwritten note saying, " I'm getting ready to throw a punch now!"

He was slow.

As I slipped his wild right hand, his momentum carried him chest first into the bar at which time I simply pinned him there.

"Chase, knock this shit off and go home before these biker people get pissed at you." I warned him.

Well, Chase was a hard headed young boy so....of course, he tried to wrestle out of my grip. As he spun to his left and towards me, I still had a firm grip with my right hand while I dug my left fist so deep in his stomach I swear I think I felt his spine!!

Seconds later, Chase was gyrating on the floor, gasping for air and making strange mewing noises.

I heard a scream, looked around and saw Gretchen flying at me with a beer bottle in her hand.

Like a spirit, Gino appeared out of nowhere and snatched her up like a bag of potato chips thereby preventing her from braining me.

"You motherfucker!" she screamed at me while thrashing in Gino's arms.

Gino looked at me calmly and said.

"Break time's over bro. I saw what went down. I'll handle it."

He didn't have to tell me twice...he had mean look on his face.

Minutes later, I was back on stage and playing again. I could view the aftermath of the little skirmish. Two guys dragged Chase out the front door and Gino followed with Gretchen still in his grasp.

About thirty minutes later, they came back minus Chase, as if nothing had happened.

Gino strode up to the stage as we finished a song, grabbed the mic and made an announcement.

"Bros....let's hear a "Happy Birthday" for my lil Sis...Gretchen!" he roared.

Everyone in the place cheered and roared.

Gretchen, who was now seated at the bar surrounded by her entourage, stood up and did a little dance step as the crowd hooted and hollered. She seemed to be acting normal again.

"Ya'll have a good time! LET'S PARTY!" he yelled.

He then turned to me and said. "Bro, you better stay WAY the fuck away from Gretchen. She ain't done yet."

"Why don't you send her ass home?" I asked.

"I can't do that....it's her birthday bro." he gave me a look as though he couldn't believe I suggested such a thing.

We played another half hour or so and the crowd got wilder. Women were walking around bare chested as though it was the most natural thing in the world. Unfortunately, most of the ones who were willing to strut their goods weren't doing anyone a favor. Why is that?

As we played the last song, some really drunk biker dude came up the base of the stage screaming FREE BIRD!!!

Side Note: "Free Bird" is the bane of a musician's existence. Ever since it came out and we ALL played it at the time, some drunk will always request it....loudly. Once this happens, "FREE BIRD" frenzy strikes the rest of the drunks like wildfire and the only way to make it stop is to, of course, play "Free Bird"....damn it!

And play it we did! Once you start playing that friggin' song, you can't help get into the last part when the guitar solo kicks in.

As the song raged on, the bikers were dancin', hoppin', gyrating and spinnin' around like a bunch of damned possessed Druids.

I looked down and who should I see dancing right in front of me? You guessed it.....Gretchen. She was giving me a seductive come hither look and I couldn't help but be tempted but...I ignored her.

We got finished playing and I began talking to Tony about something or other. Minding my own business when, of course, disaster struck.

Gretchen had come on stage, grabbed a microphone and was screaming into it.

"It's my BIRTHDAY!" he screamed. "It's my fuckin' BIRTHDAY!"

Everyone was laughing uproareously.

I motioned for Gino to come over just a she slammed the mic down on the stage. My Shure 57 mic exploded into three pieces with a boom!

Aw man!

Again...Gino came to the rescue and snatched her off the stage.

A short while later, after I had determined the mic was officially D.O.A., we replaced it with a spare and Gino returned.

"How much do I owe you for the microphone?" he growled.

I told him.

"Shit...that little bitch is startin' to piss me off!" he said as a peeled off a wad of cash.

I accepted the money with a grin.

"Gino, it's gettin' late. When do you want us to quit?" I asked him.

"Aw come on bro! The night is young yet!" he slapped me on the shoulder. "I'll make it worth your while."

I protested a bit but, eventually, agreed to play at least on more set.

"What did you do with Gretchen?" I asked.

"She's locked in my office for now."

A thought occured to me.

"Gino, you've been straight with me and, as much as it surprises me...I like you and we like playin' for ya'll which is why I'm gonna tell you something." I told him.

"Go ahead bro."

"Gretchen told me that she's working with the FBI and DEA to get you busted." I blurted out. "She told me that three of the women with her are actually undercover cops."

He laughed.

"Bro...she's used that one too many times. I told you....she's a fuckin' maniac."

"So...it's bullshit?" I asked.

"Yeah...she's just nuts."

"Well, why in the hell do you put up with her shit?" I asked.

"She's my sister bro..what else can I do?" he said dejectedly.

"Well, sister or not..I'd kick her ass to the curb if she was mine." I told him.

"Did I tell you that she still want's me to mess you up?" he asked.

"No...I'm pretty sure I would remember that." I laughed.

"Hell, maybe I oughta go ahead and kill you. Maybe it'd make her a good birthday present." he wasn't smiling.

"Well.....there goes the next set dude. I don't play too well dead."

He laughed.

"Nah...I ain't gonna kill you little dude but, I am gonna teach that little bitch a lesson!" he snarled.

"How are you gonna do that?" I asked. "and STOP calling me that!"

"Sorry bro." he laughed. "When I let her out of the office, I'm gonna let her hear me warn you about messin' around with her and, of course, she's gonna come onto you BIG TIME after that." he chuckled.

"Oooookay, what happens then?" I asked uneasily.

His face lit up.

"Then I'm gonna drag your ass into the kitchen and shoot you of course!" he laughed.

I thought about that a second.

"Well shit....that'll teach HER a lesson all right!" I said sarcastically.

"Hell, I ain't gonna really shoot you but....she won't know that." he said. "I can't wait to see what she does."

He looked at me and pulled out a wad of cash.

"How much for the extra tunes?" he asked.

I waved him off.

"Nah..forget it. This oughta be interesting."

I went to the boys and told them that we were playing at least one more set. They grumbled a bit until I told them what was going on. Suddenly, those sadistic bastards were all for hanging out a bit longer.

"Worst case scenario is that he really shoots your ass and we gotta audition a new singer." Mike grumbled.

I stared him down.

"Hey....sue me. I'm just sayin'...." he shrugged.

Sure enough, a few minutes later, Gino shows up with Gretchen following dutifully behind him. He stormed up to me.

"Listen asshole...you stay the fuck away from my sister. You got that?" he barked.

"Look man, she's the one messing with me...talk to her." I said.

"I'm talkin' to you bro." he reached out and poked a cucumber sized index finger half way into my thorax.

"Sure Gino....I've got it." I said.

"Good!" he glared at me. "Now, you boys get to pickin'."

We did.

We were thirty minutes or so into the next set when Gretchen started doing her thing right in front of me again.

After a while, she pulls her halter top down and gives me a view of her magnificient hooters.

Within seconds, Gino shows up and tells her to put her top back and glares at me.

We finished the set and I went to the bar where, of course, Gretchen shows up again.

"You wanna go to my van now?" she asked while rubbing her boobs against my left arm.

I looked over to my right and saw Gino watching the whole thing play out.

I looked at her conspiratorily.

"Let's go back to the store room behind the stage" I suggested.

"Let's go." she said.

As we were walking to the back of the place, a song came on the juke box which, I suppose she really liked because she started dancing wildly. Just as we got to the storage room door, she whipped her top completely off.

Spinning her around, I said....

"Gretchen....for the love of God, put your top back on! Gino's just looking for a reason to shoot my ass!!"

"I'm not afraid of Gino!!" she screamed while twirling her top over her head.

"Well that's real fuckin' brave of you Gretchen....YOU ain't the one he's pissed off at!" I said as I pushed her into the storage room.

Suddenly, as planned, Gino came crashing through the door...and he was looking seriously PISSED!!

Gino grabbed Gretchen by both arms, easily lifted her up to where she was looking him in the eyes and snarled.

"Get the fuck out of here.....NOW!" he shouted.

She didn't argued with him.

When he put her down she pulled her top back on and left the room in a hurry.

Just as the door shut, Gino locked it, unholstered his pistol, motioned for me to move behind him and fired two shots through the back wall without warning.

DAMN! In the confined space, it sounded like a howitzer had gone off in my head.

As someone began beating on the door, Gino actually giggled like a little kid.

"She's out there peein' herself about now!" he laughed.

I was laughing as well until I heard a woman's voice screaming......

"Open the door Gino....FBI!!"

He looked at me with a blank expression.

"Shit....the little bitch really did it this time!" he said.

"What are you gonna do?" I asked.

He shrugged his shoulders, put his pistol back in the holster and walked over to the door.

"I'm gonna go get my ass arrested looks like." he grinned. "Ain't my first rodeo you know."

He slowly opened the door and sure enough, there were three women and two men with guns drawn waiting for him.

I walked out behind him.

The look on the cops faces was hilarious. Those assholes were disappointed Gino hadn't actually shot my ass!

Minutes later, the place was swarming with all manner of law enforcement and they were herding bikers out the front door.

Gino was standing against the wall, in handcuffs, looking for all the world to be amused.

Gretchen ran up to me crying. She hugged me around the waist.

"Thank God you're alright!" she sobbed.

I pulled her away and looked into that beautiful face.

"Girl...you are in serious need of some help. You're a friggin' nut case." I said.

Without waiting for a reply, I walked over to one of the law enforcement women and asked what they wanted me and the boys to do.

After an hour or two of making our statements, they let us go.

As I was about to leave, Big Wanda came up to me.

"Gino told me to give you this." she said.

It was another envelope with some cash in it. I accepted.

"Thanks" I said. "When can we get our equipment?"

"Call me tomorrow and Weed will bring it to you." she said.

I thanked her and left the place.

The parking lot was absolutely packed with blue lighted vehicles and news crews. What a freakin' mad house.

I actually got accosted by a reporter babe as I was getting into my car.

"Sir, can you tell us exactly what happened in there?" she asked.

"No ma'am....I'm just with the band. I don't know what happened." I lied.

The next day, my phone rang and woke me up from a sound sleep.

"Hello."

"I saw you on the news this morning....I told you them Hell People were trouble!"

The phone went dead and I could just see my Aunt Sue sitting in my Dranny's living room as they discussed what a worry I was to them.

The End....finally!!

Side Note: Gino ran his motorcycle into a bridge between Columbia and Charleston a few months later. He died instantly.

I never saw Gretchen again but, I heard she married a dentist from Greenville. Poor bastard.