(The unmistakable rumble of a Harley two cylinder fills the air. A slightly altered '44 Army Signal Corps bike rolls through the traffic stop outside, and a largish man in a long black duster and black hat gets off. His drum seems to be hanging in an oversized holster, with the tipper in the opposite one.)

Sheesh! Now we have to drink milkshakes and '60's beer? It's a waste of good memories! Step aside, children, I have a sure notion somewhere in that old Seebring there is a copy of "At Their Satanic Majesty's Request." Or at least The Who's "Behind Blue Eyes."

Sides, if y'all are gonna do the sixties, I am gonna act like I did then! You! Professor! Get on the taps and see if anything you make has anything stronger than soda in it! I got a pocket fulla dimes and the phone numbers to all my old Biker pals.

Wait…Is that "Mableline"? Hey, this could be pleasant after all…

Mikal