Monster 3
It was early evening when I arrived at the crappy little house, a three bedroom shithole with half the siding off and a sagging front porch. I could hear children crying, and a muffled, but loud voice yelling as I walked past three Harleys toward the front porch of the battered place. As I walked across dead grass and weeds, two oversize men – one with a wild head of shaggy dark hair and a matching full beard, the other bald as a cue ball - in “Purple Pranksterz Motorcycle Club” jean vests...