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“Fucking kids.” Edge chuckles, then sips his beer.
“Prospect, bring us the whiskey,” Pres calls out, not looking at the poor bastard who is working his ass off to get a patch.
He is new but so far, he is towing the line.
“What has five toes, but isn’t your foot?” Cal pauses. “My foot.”
“Lame, fucker.” I toss my bottle top at him, but everyone chuckles.
Okay, I’ve got one,” Jase quips. “What is the difference between Iron Man, and iron, woman?”
“Oh, you shithead,” Lee says gruffly from his seat.
“One is a superhero, the other is a command.” He winks.
“I am so telling our woman that, when she comes over here.” Slade leans in to his man, kissing his lips once.
Jase doesn’t miss a beat. “I look forward to her scolding.”
“You sure you can get it up, old man?” I call over to the men.
“Watch it, boy. I was fucking for years, before you were even an afterthought,” Slade throws back at me.
“Hell, we all were. Fucking our way through life. Damn, man, do you remember that chick we banged that one time at Sturgis?” Slide looks to Rookie, who smirks behind the neck of his beer bottle.
“Brother, we fucked many women while at Sturgis. Which woman?”
“She had bright fire-engine red hair, big tits, a mouth like a vacuum, and a scream like a deranged banshee.”
Rookie laughs, pointing his bottle towards his brother. “I remember. She was on the bar of the beer tent shooting ping pong balls out of her pussy.”
Everyone laughs, and that is what today is about. Laughs, making memories. They go on to reminiscing over the old times. Telling the new generation stories about the things they did while in the Army, then after they came home and started this charter in Fort Lauderdale.
The mother charter is in Phoenix, where Tank is now the President of the club. Colt, Magnum’s father, passed away a few years ago. It hit us all hard, but Colt would not want us to dwell on his death but celebrate his life.
We partied for a whole fucking week, and it was fucking epic.
“Why do fathers take an extra pair of socks when they go golfing?” Silas asks the group, but replies before anyone can guess, and chuckles start. “In case they get a hole in one.”
Laughter fills the air again. These are the best times.
“Why do watermelons get married?” Lee asks.
“Oh, fuck, I know this one,” Trav jumps in. “Because they cantaloupe. See, fucking genius.” He clicks his fingers, pointing his forefinger at me like a gun and winks.
“Yeah, true fucking genius, brother. You guessed a kindergarten joke.” I laugh at him.
“Fuck off.” He throws some nuts in my direction.
I open my mouth, trying to catch some. No point in wasting them.
“My dick was in the Guinness Book of Records,” Jack states. “But the librarian told me to take it out.”
“Haha.” Royal laughs, high-fiving his twin.
My mouthful of warm beer flies out of my mouth, dribbling down my chin again.
“For fuck’s sake, a little warning next time.”
