<div class="floatleft">(http://i247.photobucket.com/albums/gg157/onilobo/Clint2_zpseedf516a.jpg)</div><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span class="bbc_u">Clint "Cowboy" Forge</span></span><br/><span class="bbc_u">Location</span>Some American Fusion Eatery in Downtown San Fransisco<br/><span class="bbc_u">Date &amp; Time</span>- 11th March '06 - Lunch Time (approx 1pm)<br/><span class="bbc_u">Tag</span>- Adrian<br/><hr/><hr/><br/>What was worse than a shitty burger and soda? A shitty burger that didn't fill you up and left you hungry. Clint's day was going south quick and after paying for the unsatisfying meal he made his way out the eatery just as one hell of a ride pulled up next to his. He had only seen old ass men ride cars like that, the type of drivers who never took a car like that our of third gear. Clint was not one to judge, but he figured the kid inside had to be some rich kid with one hell of a trust fund. Cowboy whistled at the car, his trained eyes looking over the paint and assumed it was stock. Stock was an unfair word for high caliber cars, not much you could do to a car that was already tuned to perfection.<br/><br/>"Nice ride, that has to be the best pick up line in the city." Clint joked with the complete stranger before he gestured towards the burger place. "If I were you, I would go somewhere else to eat, the food here sucks." He recommended after he casually leaned against the hood of his truck and made conversation.