4
STRANGE TIMES FOR SAMCRO
Chapter 8
Clay left instructions for the guys to come up with ideas to combat the VPUs and the fancy coffee/cupcake gashes and left for the day. The next day, Sunday, they would have another meeting and begin the fight.
He needed some alone time—uninterrupted alone time. He was sick of the big trouble interruptions. He was sick of the MC. Were the guys ever cool tough guys or were they always a bunch of dick measuring losers? He would never whip out his dick in a measuring contest. Not because he was ashamed of its length or girth—he had an impressive amount of both—but because there were some oozing sore and some crusty issues. A few more days with antibiotics and he would be as good as new. Maybe then, Gemma would have sex with him again.
Clay sat on his motorcycle and looked at all of Charming spread below him. He didn't have JT's delusions that the MC was all about brotherhood. If that were true, it wouldn't be an outlaw MC. It was always all about the money. Anyone who thought otherwise had shit for brains.
It was all he could do to keep from breaking into laughter when the guys would look all misty eyed and talk about being brothers. Dick measuring losers! It was the perfect name for them.
Happy was the only one who was worth a damn. He was a ruthless psychotic killer. In short, Happy was the perfect SOA soldier. Smart enough to follow orders, but that's all the really wanted to be—an order follower. He could be counted on to kill efficiently and not cry about it afterward. He also would never challenge his leadership.
Tig used to be more like Happy until he killed Donna and became a pussy. Accidents happen. Sometimes the wrong people get killed. He got no joy from it, but you just have to move on. When it came time, he wasn't sure if Tig would have his back, but he could count on him to vote his way at the table. That made him useful.
Chibs was pretty unremarkable. If he didn't have that Scots accent, he would completely fade into the background. His hair always looked greasy. Jax should give him grooming tips. He had no respect for Chibs. He was a pussy for letting Jimmy kick him out of Ireland and takeover his family. He couldn't count on him. He tended to side with the little prince. The next time something dangerous and deadly needed done, Chibs was on the short list for that.
Bobby couldn't be relied to vote his way at the table, but he was competent. He also cooked. A man can BBQ, but no real man bakes. What the hell is wrong with him? You want banana bread, you buy it or tell your old lady or a crow-eater to make you some. An outlaw biker doesn't bake. That's women's work. If other chapters found out, it would be pretty damned embarrassing.
Piney was another pain in his ass. He seemed to take great pleasure in being difficult and not supporting his plays. He couldn't be trusted to do difficult jobs, so it wouldn't be easy to get rid of him. He was also another of Jax's allies.
Opie was trying to get deeper into the club since Donna died. They needed to bring him close, so if he finds out about Donna, he'll be thinking right about the club. The rift between Opie and Jax was good. He could count on Opie to back him unless he found out about Donna. And then, who the hell knows?
Juice was not a credit to the MC. He hasn't gotten laid in more than three years! Part of the reason guys join MCs is for the girls. Crow-eaters threw themselves at the guys all the time. How could not have had sex in three years? He must either be gay or he needs that medication that can raise even the deadest of dicks. He cried too much. It's disgraceful and brings shame on the club. He also wasn't that competent. The only thing he really could be counted on to do was support him at the table. As long as Juice supported him, his name would stay off the short list for dangerous assignments.
Clay knew he had limited options for the future. You either get born into money or you have to get it for yourself. Clay knew he didn't have what it would take to earn a living in a straight world. He didn't want to be that little nine to five worker raising kids and living the same boring life as his father.
It's easier to make money with illegal means, but he had morals. He wasn't going to cheat some little old lady of her life savings in an investment scam. While selling firearms was illegal, Clay didn't think it was immoral. He sold guns so guys could protect themselves and their property. It was just that simple.
Clay stayed out there, on is motorcycle watching as the dark swallowed up Charming so there was nothing left but little pinpoints of light that he liked to think of as glow in the dark skeletons each one representing a person he might have killed.
Suddenly, like a bolt of lightening, he was struck with a great idea. Charming was going to host the annual SOA talent show and he had the perfect idea for SAMCRO's talent.
Author's Note: I am going to do occasional short chapters. I need a lighter, less emotion driven story to write.
Next Up: Clay gets accidentally dosed again with magic mushrooms and instead of thinking Chuckie is a dog, he thinks Chibs is a leprechaun and he wants to see Chibs' pot of gold. And, of course, Clay knows Chibs is Scottish and should be wearing a kilt. That's why seeing Chibs as a leprechaun confuses Clay.