Yes, its true. The man has finally got his machine. It's an oppulent silver colored Bullet Electra, in an impeccable condition. It goes without saying; it is a joyous occasion for all the S.C.O.F.F members and fanfare (please tell me we have some).


It was a Sunday morning and over coffee, Fat Old Son unveils his mega scheme of how he got about buying his bike. It's then when i come to know that he hasnt informed his parents (not surprised!), hasnt consulted anyone (not surprised!) and is going to take a loan for the same (Aah! Not surprised at all!). The nigger has outdone himself this time–yet again. However, for now we shall just concentrate on the thunderous machine rather than judge his sanity and ability to go bungee jumping without the rope. Well thats Fat Old Son for you.


However the bike's a beauty, and I say this after testing it myself. Once we were done with accessory shopping it was time for a fitting celebration. We headed to Poptates downed a few funky tequillas and beers whilst throwing occasional, affectionate glances at the bike parked across the street. As the evening commenced, the feeling of another member in the family was now slowly beginning to sink in. Talks of long journeys exploring the farthest depths of earth, had already begun. With the setting sun, we concluded our session, not coz the sun was setting, but coz if we drank anymore Fat Old Son would have to pawn the bullet to pay the bill...and i wouldnt be surprised if he had done that too. Thus came an end to a day where the prophecy of the coming of the bike finally came true. Halleluiah!