Troy was grinding his teeth in anger. Here he was, throwing back a few beers in a bar out in the middle of nowhere. He knew it was in the middle of nowhere cause he and his mates had picked the location themselves. Far enough out in the desert so they could be sure they'd get their privacy, but close enough to Vegas to drive there in an hour or two. And now this slick looking motherfucker walked in the door, starting making demands of them. The stranger was a big guy, sure, lots of muscles on him, but they were gym muscles, he could tell. He doubted the asshole could even throw a punch. Walking in here in his armani suit and expensive haircut, who did he think he was? Didn't he know who they were?<br/><br/>Kevin Milton shook his head, it was clear he wasn't getting through to them. It was almost a given, but he had to at least try.<br/>"Listen, you knuckle dragging flock of monkeys, we know you are moving drugs into Vegas, and we need you to cut that shit out, or we will have to make an example of you and your pathetic little club. Am I making myself clear or do I need to speak slower?"<br/><br/>Troy was furious now. All around him his mates was drawing guns, and so did Troy. The stranger was staring down the barrell of a dozen or so guns now, but it didn't seem to face him. What a suprise, the dickhead had some  balls.<br/>"Who the fuck do you think you are talking to!? We are the fucking Hell's Angels!"<br/><br/>Kev Milton couldn't help but smile.<br/>"Hell's Angels, eh? Somehow I seriously doubt that..."