Cody Christano: The Life of an American Scum Bucket
You angrily climb into your jeep, muttering terrible obscenities under your breath. You begin driving around your neighborhood looking for your stolen bike. Hopefully the punk is still out there riding it to his hideaway you think.
15 minutes go by and you can't find whoever stole your bike. You honk at some young girls walking on the sidewalk. They give you a strange look as you drive by.
"Damn they were hot!" You say to yourself. They look to be about 13 years old but they are dressed like they are 19. You decide to creep them out and turn around and pass them again. You pull into a driveway and backout to go back the way you came, and thats when you see it.
Your bike.
A young punk in a hoodie is riding your bike, and he's riding away from you on the sidewalk, You better hurry or he'll get away! The red hot rage comes back to you and you slam your pedal to the metal.
15 minutes go by and you can't find whoever stole your bike. You honk at some young girls walking on the sidewalk. They give you a strange look as you drive by.
"Damn they were hot!" You say to yourself. They look to be about 13 years old but they are dressed like they are 19. You decide to creep them out and turn around and pass them again. You pull into a driveway and backout to go back the way you came, and thats when you see it.
Your bike.
A young punk in a hoodie is riding your bike, and he's riding away from you on the sidewalk, You better hurry or he'll get away! The red hot rage comes back to you and you slam your pedal to the metal.