Dirt Bike Town existed because the slaughterhouse existed. Blood came bubbling up the gas station’s drain. The slaughter house was not going anywhere. I hated living right next door. All the death came out at night like tongues and languages and voices you did not know. You listened to the screams.

You knew. You had always known. It would come for all of us. The devil and the clown. Suck my dick, Dirt Bike Town.