Gun and a runner

 Chapter 11.0 We went to watch hillbilly truck towing competition, murmuring big motors, smoke to high heavens, masterfully build engines. Killer machines. Grass were burning in the audience, big cigars but no big wigs. Local politician made a speech how we needed more motor jobs and localizated fun. We front rowed, this was some awesome man shit right here. We heard a hillbilly joke, what does a tree say to the other? Bark. What do you get when you put a whole class of hillbillies in a bus, full set of teeth. Then we went to a local doom metal show, it was guy with a beard, one with a strap down pants and a maniac drummer. They played very well. Dooming and booming bass trebling the soundscape of the room. Then we went cruising when the sun was setting, low ryda style. Motarized moving. Triple threat vibes on the streets, dangerous people moving around. We kicked some gas. It was smell of grand theft in the air and it smelled like sweet cha-ching music. We saw some cool bitche...