Scott Payne

They carried me down.

Closed line, who's supposed to be my second closest friend, says, yo, Tex, you got a minute?

And I said, yeah.

And then he walks me through this door that I'd never been in, even though I've been in that clubhouse I don't know how many times.

It's the only door I hadn't been through.

And it leads into a very tight stairwell down into a, if I call it a basement, that's being generous because I couldn't stand up straight.

It's more of a crawl space.

And I could touch the wall probably on both sides.

I see rope.

I see that they have both brandished their pistols.

One outlaw follows me, and he stands on the steps with his pistol, and he's watching.

And clothesline proceeds to tell me, I need you to—he says—

There's a lot of shit going on, and it's my job to take care of my brothers.

I need you to take off.

Because I want you to write down your full name, date of birth, social security, everything.

And I need you to take all your clothes off.

I need to check you for a wire.

I hate this.

Me too.

Yeah.