.” says the pot about the kettle. “Everything else fits.”I told Mark the Tuccos were a small motorcycle club, about 25 members. Rumor was you ha... to kill an outlaw biker to get in. They were hunted by other outlaw bikers so they never showed their colors unless they were all present, armed and looking for blood. All are ex-military and favored heavy automatic weapons. I was betting that now they were down one-third of their membership and were looking for Darnel’s head because it seemed too. “You think YOU are the good stuff?”“Have you had better? Hmm?”“Well...” I teased, leaving the thought hanging.We walked into the Chinese restaurant where our order was just being brought out from the kitchen. I paid, we took the bags and headed home where the rest of the family, minus Matthew, had gathered. We had dinner and had just finished when our friends began arriving for Guys’ Night and Girls’ Night Out.July 3, 2000, Chicago, Illinois“We need to establish some ground rules,” I said as. More

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