Patrolman Bill Donelly radioed in to the station that the Hell’s Angels were in town. He said they were standing around on Main St. They weren’t doing much of anything but looking around, pointing, laughing and pissing in the gutters. The pissing in the gutters was, "illegal and pissing me off". The dispatcher took the message to Chief Smith. He radioed Bill.

“Chief, they’re all over the street here by Clymer’s Bar! There must be, I don’t know, a whole, big bunch a them! Their motorcycles are parked every-whichaway. Can’t get up or down the street because of them. They’re pissing in the gutters an- that guy just dropped his pants and shit on the sidewalk! Right there in front of everyone, including the women! Right in public; on a public street! He can’t do that!” Billy told the Chief.

“Yet, you say he did”, the Chief said.

“Yea! That’s against the law! Want me to arrest him?!”

“Billy, I want you to quiet down. No, I don’t want you to arrest him. I don’t want you to do anything. You don’t have that much insurance and the Benevolent Fund doesn’t give squat. Your wife would have a hard time raising those kids on her widow’s pension. Don’t do anything, no matter what. I’m coming right over.”

“Oh, okay, Chief. I’ll keep a close eye on that guy so’s I can I.D. him, okay?”

“Yea, you do that.”

The Chief went over, got out of his cruiser and took a look around. Bikes parked everywhere. Bikers drinking, pissing, hacking and vomiting everyplace he looked. This was one scummy-looking bunch. The smell was terrible. The sewer plant, even on a good day, smelled better than this. Billy walked up to the Chief and said, “Sorry, Chief, I lost him in the crowd. Sorry.”

“Never mind that. You go on back where you were and let me handle this.”

“I mean, that guy shits and don’t even wipe his ass!” Billy said.

“Yea, well, I don’t think this crowd worries too much about things like that.”

“Man, I could never do that.”

“Never do what? Shit on the street or not wipe your ass?”

“Huh? Why, neither one!”

“Billy, I wasn’t expecting an answer. You just go on back where you were.”

The Chief wanted to talk to the leader of this pack of half-civilized animals. He couldn’t see anything that set one guy off from the rest except for the one drinking coke instead of snorting it. Oh, that has to be the leader. No one else in this crowd would have the balls to do that. The Chief carefully made his way over to that guy, being careful not to bump anyone. Never know what might jump off one of them. They probably are immune to most things but the Chief wasn’t.

He stood looking at the coke drinker. The Coke drinker looked back.

“You the leader of this bunch?” the Chief asked.

“Man, ain’t no leader. We are all free spirits. We go where we want, when we want and if we want. Take Tuck Tucker. He didn’t wanna come to this shit-hole town. No offense. That’s okay. He accidentally cut his damn throat while he was shavin’. That put us off a day or two.” was the reply.

“Accidentally cut his throat shaving? Doesn’t look like a shaving bunch to me. Look like escapees from a low class zoo to me.”

“Yea, well, his throat got cut anyways. Marko got his bike. Marko wrecked his and been ridin’ with Wipeout for a while. Worked out okay. Marko did feel a bit bad, seein' as how Turk had borried Marko's razor.”

“A real compassionate group, aren’t you?”

“I know that word. Well, Tuck didn’t care, bein’ as he was stone-cold dead. We figure, Tuck don’t give a shit, why should we? Dig?”

“Oh, I see. I think, though you might not be the leader, you might be a, ah, person of influence, so to speak”, the Chief responded.

That baffled coke boy. He knew what a person was, and that he was one. He knew what influence meant and he had it. Person of influence. Wait! Hell, he was that! Never thought of it that way! Wow!

“Yea, I guess I am. Whatta ya want?”

“No trouble, that’s want I want. I'm not going to have the likes of your bunch messing up my town”, the Chief told him.

“Ain’t done nothin”, the leader told him.

“Well, that isn't exactly the truth. You’re parked all over this street, blocking traffic. One of you shit on the sidewalk. That’s just for openers. You will cause trouble, if I allow it. That’s what you do; it’s what you always do. Thing is, this is my town. Born here and lived here all my life except for college and the Army. Not going to stand for any trouble in my town.”

“Well, well, well. A regular Buford Puser , ain’t ya? Mr. Bad-ass with a badge and a tinker toy gun.”

“Buford Puser. That’s pretty good. Difference is, I won’t be coming after you with a baseball bat and I won’t be alone”, the Chief told him.

“We don’t want no trouble, man. That’s the truth. We’re just a bunch of guys who ride bikes. Dig?” the Hell’s Angel told him.

“Yea, and Michael Jackson a regular kind of guy who ‘entertains’ little boys. Like I said, I won’t have trouble in my town.”

“You ain’t coming alone? You got more like that dumb asshole over there? He’s either scared shitless or stupid. What is he, your nephew?” the cokey boy said.

That embarrassed the Chief. Billy was his nephew. His whole police force only had five people. Hate to have to ask the county Sheriff for help. Really hate to have to call in the State Patrol. Wonder if I could just shoot this guy and the rest would leave? the Chief wondered.

The leader was amused at the Chief’s lack of a response.

“If you’re thinkin’ of tear gas, think again. These guys are so burned out on meth they ooze from everywheres anyways. They wouldn’t notice no tear gas. Hell, with the way we smell, tear gas wouldn’t affect us. Rubber bullets, maybe. Man, you’d have to hit these guys with a boulder just to get their attention. Maybe tasers? Shit, man, some a these guys could use shock treatments but tasers? Hell, it’d be no worse than a bad trip on some bad drugs. Besides, you ain’t going to whack this many guys with tasers. You probably ain’t even got one”, the leader went on.

The leader got some more amusement when the Chief didn’t respond to this. The Chief didn’t have a taser. The county Sheriff did but asking for it would mean explaining why he needed it and Sheriff Collard would take over. If there wasn’t going to be any trouble, there would be if Collard got in to it. Collard was a cheap publicity whore.

“Just make damn sure you’re on your very best behavior, you hear?. No, do better than that, a whole lot better” ,the Chief told him.

“Yea, I ain’t deaf. Not stupid, neither. You shouldn’t oughta expect trouble before you get it. Dreams sometimes come true. Know what I mean?”

“Best behavior, that what I mean.”

Now, really, come on. To the Hell’s Angels, being on their best behavior meant misdemeanors, not felonies. The Chief and the Hell’s Angels were using different dictionaries. They were parked illegally, a misdemeanor; one of them shit on the sidewalk, a misdemeanor. What the Chief meant by best behavior couldn’t be defined, even by him. He thought it was like art. He didn’t know what it was but recognized it when he saw it. He wasn’t going to recognize any best behavior with this bunch. He just said it to save face because he didn’t have a clue about what he could do if they decided to tear his town up. He did know he was going to have to act first and fast.

He called a meeting with the Mayor, the Town Council President and the Town Manager. He explained what had happened so far at Clymer’s and that he wanted to take “pre-emptive action”.

The mayor spoke up. “What’s ‘pre-emptive’ mean? They have the same right to free assembly as everyone else. The Constitution clearly-”

“Mayor”, the Chief interrupted, “shut your mouth. I only invited you here to be polite. Just sit there and be quiet.”

“Now see here. I’m the mayor-”

“Didn’t I tell you to be quiet? Are you being quiet? The Town Council hired me and only they can fire me. Say another damn word and you’re going out that window face first. I mean that, I really do.”

“Uh, mayor”, the Council President said, “maybe you ought to just shut up. You really don’t have any power so be quiet.”

“Now, as I’m saying, I want to stop trouble before it happens. I have 5 officers on my force. I wouldn’t put those dickheads up against a bunch of Boy Scouts, much less this bunch. I want to get them to leave on their own accord and soon.”

The Town Manager spoke up. “You have a plan?”

“Yea, I do. I want you to get the Public Works Department to shut off the main to Clymer’s. Once those toilets start backing the shit up, I think even this bunch will take off”, the Chief explained.

“That’s ... that’s not even legal. Yo-”, the mayor began to say. He didn’t get a chance to finish because the Chief threw him, face first, out the window. Fortunately, they were on the ground floor. even more fortunately, the window was open. The Chief had mixed feelings about that.

The Public Works manager got the main shut off. The Chief and the Council President took up watch across the street from Clymer’s. They figured it’d be a while before the toilets really clogged up. Then it'd be a while before any of them noticed. Then it'd be a while before it troubled any of them.

“Whew! That’s one foul, shitty smell coming across to here. Look at that! There’s water coming out from underneath the door! They’ll be on their way soon”, the President exclaimed.

Later, a lot later, the Angel’s began coming out the door. One was heard to say, “Man, the shit’s ankle high. I don’t mind the smell, I’ve smelled worse, and I don’t mind pissing in it but I ain’t squattin’ down in to take a dump. I’ll use the sidewalk.”

“Yea”, his mama replied, “then we go back to shooters, right, honey?”

“Huh? Is that what we were drinkin’? Yea, whatever.” He didn’t know what he was drinking. She could be pouring him gasoline and he wouldn’t know it until he lit a smoke and blew up.

“Well, that sure as hell didn’t work out. Have to come up with a different plan. Man, this shit smells. Glad I don’t live near here”, the Chief said, knowing the Council president lived two blocks over and was married to the Wicked Witch. The Chief almost felt sorry for the poor asshole when she found out he was responsible for this smell.

The Chief, the Council President and the Town Manager did some brainstorming. They couldn’t come up with anything that was, one, mostly legal, and, two, doable. Then the Fire Chief barged in with his idea. They listened to it and then got pissed off at him.

“Water? Hose ‘em down with water? That’s your idea? Are you just plain dense or suicidal? Huh? You hose those bastards down and they’re going to hose your ass clean out. Get your big, stupid, fat ass out of here dickwad, before you join the mayor, flying out the window”, the Chief screamed.

“No, no! There’s more”, the Fire Chief replied. He told them the rest of the plan. They laughed and decided to try it.

The Hell’s Angels never expected anything like this. They’d been gassed, pelted with rubber bullets and shocked by tasers. Those they could tolerate. Hell, they enjoyed them. This was too much for them. The leader wanted to tear the town up before they left but the bunch wanted to leave immediately. The leader could sense his grip on them slipping, so he agreed.

“See”, the Fire Chief said, “I knew that would do the trick.”

“Yea, it sure did. Now, who’s going to clean all this bubble bath up?” the Chief wanted to know.