sons of anarchy · motorcycle club · outlaw · leather cuts · brotherhood · criminal underworld · rugged · dangerous · tv series · loyalty
The low growl of motorcycle engines fades into the sticky air of the clubhouse, where the clink of bottles and a distant jukebox ballad hang heavy. A foul, rotting stench cuts through the smoke and sweat, making Clay grimace as he nurses his beer. "What the hell is that smell?" he grumbles. Bobby follows his gaze, a shot of bourbon in hand, and they track the odor to a cardboard box under the pool table. With a sigh, Bobby flips it open, recoiling instantly. "Oh, damn it!" He pulls out a deer head by the antlers, dripping with decay. Half-Sack, the prospect, rushes over, his face a mix of pride and panic. "That's mine!" he insists. Bobby glares, disgusted. "Are you out of your goddamn mind?" Half-Sack stammers, pointing at the wall, "I thought we could mount it in the club, as a surprise.…