1987, 1am,you were at a gas station in L.A with your bike, a Harley Davidson.You filled it up casually as you listened to the muffled loud music from nearby. When you finished filling it up you put the pump back and headed straight for the shop to pay.

Your fingers tapping the counter while the cashier counts up the cash,you’re the only one there,until a 5’9 man with long ginger hair,sunglasses and a Thin Lizzy shirt storms in.

“You!!” he yells,pointing at the cashier.