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Chapter 1 Beads Cold Girls Tears
Clay finished the brownie and took a last swig of his beer. The brownie had been good, but the frosting tasted like dirt. He should have scraped it off. He opened another beer and tried to wash away the dirt taste from his mouth. He grabbed a third bottle of beer to bring with him. It was going to be a long church session.
Each member at the table, Jax, Chibs, Tig, Juice, Piney and Bobby had pulled him aside to tell him they needed a couple of extra minutes. He took his position at the head of the table and brought the gavel down bringing the meeting to order.
"I know a lot of you have things you want to talk about, so we'll get this started. Jax?"
Jax shook his head. "I need to go last."
Damn little Prince, Clay thought, scowling at Jax. Always had to be the center of attention with his movie star looks and charisma. He was too damned good-looking. The bastard.
Bobby nodded. "I'll go next. I've made some personal decisions. I'm not going to do the Elvis thing anymore. It's over. It's tired. I'm working on doing a Michael Jackson act. I want to show you my dance moves."
Clay clocked the table. No one was laughing. How could Bobby be serious? He was a big white guy. And what the hell was going on with his hair? He had braids studded with bright blue (SAMCRO blue) beads all over his head. He even had braids in his beard. He was a freaking freak show.
Bobby got heavily to his feet and began to sing the opening bars of "Beat It" and doing the moon walk. He lifted his pant legs to reveal he was wearing silver glitter socks and brown loafers.
Clay frowned. Where the hell do you buy silver glitter socks? And why would you buy them? Bikers can't wear glitter. Bikers and Special Forces like the Navy SEALS were the last real men left in this wimpy politically correct nightmare of a world.
"You can't wear glitter socks." Clay banged his gavel.
"It doesn't say that in the by-laws," Jax said. He had a large wad of bubblegum in his mouth and he blew a big disrespectful bubble and popped it.
Piney jumped, thinking it was gunfire.
"What the hell?"
"Sorry Piney," Jax said.
"The by-laws don't have to spell out little things like that. Some things are just understood," Clay said.
"I think we should take a vote," Jax said.
"I think you should shut the hell up," Clay said, "and we don't have to take a vote on that."
"What do you guys think of my new act?" Bobby asked.
"You don't look like Michael Jackson," Juice pointed out, showing a surprising grasp of the situation.
"Damn it," Bobby swore. "I didn't think of that." He returned to his seat, crossed his arms over his chest and pouted.
"I'll go next," Tig said. He reached up to push a curly lock of hair out of his face. One of his rings got tangled in his hair. He gave a sharp tug to free it and gasped in pain. A square of hair came off.
Clay laughed. He wasn't surprised that Tig was wearing a hair piece. It looked like it came from a poodle. He liked poodles and would have gotten one except bikers can't have poodles. And that wasn't in the by-laws either. It was just freaking understood.
"Never mind what I was going to say," Tig said sullenly.
Jax spit out his gum and handed it to Tig.
"Thanks, brother," Tig said. He spread the gum on his head and reattached the portion of his hairpiece that had been ripped off by his ring.
Jax shoved six more sticks of bubble gum into his mouth and began to chew enthusiastically.
"Chibs," Clay said.
"Yeah. I got some information from the doctor. I have never been able to figure out why I was such a pussy and let Jimmy O'Phelan kick me out of Belfast and take my wife and daughter as his family. The doctor said I have low T."
"What the hell does that mean?" Clay asked.
"He's not as male as he should be," Tig said.
"Son of a bitch!" Clay exclaimed. "How much woman are you?"
"Not enough for me," Tig said snickering.
Bobby was shaking his head making the beads click together. The sound got under Clay's skin. His fingers itched with the need to rip the braids from Bobby's head.
"All I need to do is take some testosterone. I'll get my T back and then I'm going to Ireland and kick Jimmy's ass."
"We ought to just lure him over here and kill him," Jax said before blowing his first bubble with his new gum.
"That's obvious," Clay snapped. Damn Jax. He was always trying to be the smart one by saying the most obvious thing. He'd like to punch a few dents into that perfect face of his and toughen him up.
"OK. I don't care where I kill him just as long as I kill him. You guys should also get yourself checked. The doctor told me that it isn't a shameful condition and doesn't make you any less of a man."
"It does too make you less of a man. You don't have enough testosterone," Tig said.
"You better shut up," Chibs said making a fist with his hand.
Clay banged his gavel.
"That's enough."
"We should take a vote," Jax said.
"I've had just about enough of you," Clay said, pointing the gavel at Jax. "OK. Your turn, Juice."
"You all know I haven't gotten laid in almost three years."
"Almost?" Chibs asked.
"OK. Over three years," Juice said, brushing tears from his eyes.
"Even when you pay for it?" Tig asked.
"Yeah, even then. I heard that if you go fight in the Middle East, they will give you 17 virgins. That's what I'm gonna do. I just need women without any miles on them."
"So, you're going to be a terrorist?" Bobby asked.
"No, I'm going to fight against them."
"I don't think it works that way," Chibs said.
"The terrorists call the people fighting against them terrorists, so I think I still get the 17 virgins."
"Does it say the virgins are female?" Jax asked.
Everyone laughed.
Clay frowned at Juice. Juice was an idiot. He decided he was going to accidentally shoot him later. He was sick of looking at his stupid haircut too.
"Does it say that they are human?" Chibs asked.
Everyone at the table laughed. Again.
"They are probably goats or sheep. You know what they say about the men of the Middle East? It's a place where the men are happy and the sheep are nervous," Jax said.
"What the hell do you mean by 'the men are happy'?" Happy demanded.
Clay stared at Happy. Where had he been hiding? He was a slippery son of a bitch.
"Nothing. When I said "happy", I didn't mean you," Jax said.
"OK," Happy said, calming down.
"The virgins—male, female or animal—you don't get them just for fighting. You gotta get killed first," Bobby said.
"What good will the virgins do me if I'm dead?"
"You get them in the afterlife," Bobby said.
"And what if you don't get them?" Juice asked.
"What if they're ugly?" Chibs asked.
"What if they're sheep?" Jax asked.
"What if they're dead?" Piney asked, startling everyone by waking up.
"I'm dead and they're dead or I'm alive and they're dead in the afterlife?"
"Have any of you ever been with a dead girl?" Tig asked.
There was a loud chorus of "no's".
"They just wanna die after," Chibs said.
Everyone laughed except Piney who had fallen asleep again.
"It's great. You don't talk to them, you don't have to cuddle, you don't have to use a condom. Once you feel a woman's cold dead lips on your . . ."
Clay banged the gavel.
"Enough."
"Wait a minute," Juice said, furrowing his brow in thought. "This could work out even better than the 17 virgins—male, female or animal—because I wouldn't have to die first. She'll be dead. No complaints. No performance issues."
"I could take you with me tonight. Skeeter called and he's got two hot girls. They're hot but they're dead."
Clay banged the gavel.
"OK. Tig, you are in charge of getting Juice laid."
Clay finished his bottle of beer. He thought for a few seconds and then decided it was time to get his club back on track.
"I'm having some problems with this club," Clay said sternly. "We're bikers. We are the macho epitome of men, yet clearly some of you are not measuring up. We got Chibs who isn't fully a man and Juice who can't get laid. This would humiliate our club if anyone found out. We would be the laughingstock of all the MCs. We must maintain our cool kick ass image at all costs."
"I think once Juice bangs some dead girls, he'll be fine," Tig said.
"The low T isn't my fault," Chibs whined. "I'm getting it fixed."
"I think we need a vote," Jax said.
Clay wanted to wrap his hands around Jax's throat and squeeze the life out of him.
"Goat? Tig's sleeping with goats now?" Piney asked, awake once more.
"I would never do a goat," Tig said indignantly. "I have standards."
Clay banged the gavel.
"Piney, your turn."
"Yeah. Well . . . Damn. I forgot what I was going to say."
"Jax."
"I've decided I need to live a more authentic life," Jax said.
Clay wondered, as he had many times in the past, what the hell was wrong with Jax? Now he was speaking in this English accent. Pretentious asshole.
"Here," Jax said, passing out pictures of a tall blonde wearing a mini-skirt, V-necked top, patent leather over the knee stiletto heeled boots with fish net stockings.
"She's hot," Happy said.
"Is she going to work for Cara Cara? I'd like to help her rehearse," Chibs said.
"Look more carefully."
"Make your point," Clay growled. "We don't have all day."
"It's me."
The men examined the pictures again, unable to believe their eyes.
"That's who I really am. I've always felt like I was in the wrong body and I don't want to live a lie anymore. I'm going to be a woman."
"How much of a woman? Tig asked. "You gonna just dress like one, or are you going to have surgery?"
"At first I'm going to dress like a woman and take hormones then I'll get my breasts done and after that the lower part."
"You can't be a chick and be in SAMCRO," Bobby said.
"I was thinking I could be a man and still be in the club and then I'd be female the rest of the time."
"Your old man tried to destroy this club and now you're doing the same. That's it. I've had it. You are out of the club. Now, we'll take a vote on that."
Chibs and Juice cried as they voted to kick Jax out of SAMCRO, but the others had just as hard a time. It was unanimous. Jax was out of SAMCRO.
"I am also asking for a Mayhem vote on Jax. If he is allowed to do this, become a woman, it will bring nothing but utter humiliation to our club and to every MC everywhere. We'll be a joke and I think our charter will get kicked out of the SOA. We might as well start riding Vespas and drinking fancy coffee. It will be over for us."
"I don't think I should be killed for something that isn't my fault," Jax said.
"This is going to kill Gemma. Do you want that for her?" Clay asked.
"I'm good with that," Jax said, blowing a bubble.
"Let's vote the mayhem part of this," Clay said.
"The mayhem person isn't supposed to be here during the vote," Bobby said.
"You think you could do a better job? Shut the hell up. He can stay, but don't let that keep you from doing what's right for the club."
As each member, except Jax, cast his vote, it appeared that Jax's fate was sealed and he would be meeting Mr. Mayhem.
Bang. Bang. Bang. There were thunderous knocks at the door. Chuckie flung open the doors.
"Did any of you see my brownie? It was in the kitchen."
"I ate it," Clay said defiantly.
"Did you eat the frosting?"
"That's what it's for, isn't it?"
"It had some of those magic mushrooms from the Wahewa in it. Aren't you feeling strange?"
"Of course not," Clay said, banging his gavel.
Somehow, Gemma had gotten into the room and was under the table making out with a picture of Jax. Those two kissed entirely too much. It wasn't healthy.
What if Clay's psychedelic trip were permanent? Was Bobby going to quit impersonating Elvis? Did Chibs have low T and was that really the reason he was such a pussy with Jimmy O? Had Juice not gotten laid in three years? Were he and Tig going to have sex with dead girls? And was Jax really going to convert to a woman or would he be kicked out of the club and killed first?
The men of SAMCRO had never faced such problems before. The club was at a crisis point. The events in the next couple of days would determine its future.
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