Dani stepped forward. “The First Old Ladyhas hereby found you all guilty of crimes againsthermanity. I’m sure by now many of you have guessed your punishment as you’ve doled it out yourselves to many a prospect over the years. That’s right, a line of dirty cars means a car wash, and the First Old Lady wants them spankin’ clean inside and out.
More grunts and groans.
“And don’t worry about getting the clothes you’re wearing dirty,” Kim said, pointing to two large cardboard boxes set off to the side. “We’ve got work clothes for you to all change into.”
Maisie motioned to Rooster. “Come on over here and show them what we’ve picked out for you to wear.”
* * *
Rooster
I opened the first box and had to laugh at what I found.
“What is it?” Flea asked.
I held up the top half of our uniform for everyone to see. A skimpy, pink, cotton tank top with a modified Dogs of Fire M.C. patch logo on the front that read Dog Shit F.B.
“The F.B. stands for ‘for brains’,” Maisie said, adding “They’re one size fits all.”
My laughter stopped when I looked inside the second box.
“What’s wrong, love?” Maisie asked, sweetly.
I shook my head. “Nuh uh, no way.”
“Hatch?” Maisie asked, her eyes still pinned on me.
“Do what she says,” he replied, sounding like a defeated Civil War general agreeing to the terms of his unit’s surrender.
I let out a huge sigh before reaching inside the box and producing the bottom half of our mandatory work uniform. What there was of it, anyway. Gasps of horror ricocheted through the club brothers as they got their first look.
“No fucking way,” Mack shouted.
“What the hell is that?” Ace asked.
“I believe they’re called hot pants,” Maisie said. “Also, one size fits all.”
“How the fuck am I supposed to fit in that?” Mack asked.
“Poorly, I would imagine,” Maisie replied.
“This is bullshit, Prez,” Maverick growled.
“It’s time to take our medicine, boys. No sense in groaning about it,” Hatch called out.
“Easy for you to say, you don’t have to wear this shit,” Mack said.
Hatch stood up slowly, opened his robe and dropped it to the ground, modeling our mandatory uniform, hot pants and all.
“Jesus Christ, I’ve gone blind,” Flash cried out, the sight of his father in such a state being all too much for him to bear.
The next four hours were pure hell. Car after car. Sponge after sponge. Rag after rag. And the endless game of ‘wax on, wax off’ wasn’t even the worst part of the punishment. No, that award would have to go to the uniform. Huge, hairy, men shoved into tight, girly clothes were in my eyeline no matter where I looked. Sacks and shlongs hung out, left and right, not that it mattered due to the fact that once wet, our “clothes” became almost transparent.
Of course, the old ladies were having a fucking field day at our expense. Cat calls and whistles filled the air as they ‘supervised’ our work over bottomless mimosas. But the most diabolical part of Maisie’s revenge was still yet to come. A savage move that would go down in club history.
A few hours into our shift at the Balls n’ Bubbles Car Wash we were informed by “Mad Maisie the First,” that we’d all be receiving medical attention today.
“One of the many poor choices my dear husband made while his brain was on vacation in Bikini Bottom was to roll around, half-naked on the grounds of an abandoned paper-mill, leading to him getting a tetanus shot. This got me to thinking about all of you and how much time you spend around rusty metal and old tools, and I decided to have Katie and Gina administer you all with tetanus shot updates, just to make sureyou’re all covered and up to date.”
