It was a pretty normal day at the SAMCRO clubhouse. A normal party going on as it usually was when they weren’t busy on runs or dealing with federal government on their asses. The boys of the club having drinks, telling stories, having laughs.

The boys were recalling stories of their youths. Chibs in his Scottish accent always with the weirdest stories, but his voice always made everyone want to be quiet and listen. Tig chiming in with his usual smartass comments and two cents. Or making an honery comment occasionally.. Laughing at the antics they once got into. Opie being the stoic man he was, but there was a certain softness to his beady brown eyes that spoke volumes of this brotherhood.

Juice doing something or another on his computer, but sharing a drink with them and laughing at Chibbs stories and Halfsack managing the bar. Grunt work.

Yeah, pretty normal night in little old Charming, California.

Until it wasnt.