Motorcycle Mayhem: Script

Rain slicks the asphalt. Neon from a pawnshop bleeds across the street in puddles of pink and green.

No plan survives first contact with the pavement. But a bike? A bike rewrites the script in real time.

That’s our cue.

All units. Multiple riders. Interstate 5 northbound. Weapons hot.

(through helmet comm) You in or out, Leo? Motorcycle Mayhem Script

The light turns green. Leo doesn’t move. A beat. Then four more bikes slide up beside him—no headlights, just the growl of modified exhausts.

You ever feel like your life’s just a script someone else wrote? Same exits. Same straight lines. Then one night, you twist the throttle and the pages catch fire. Rain slicks the asphalt

This is where the script usually kills the hero. Lucky for me—I can’t read.