Thief With A Bike ~ Krii7y

~~~ { 19 } ~~~

It didn't take them long to get the bikes back to their receptive areas. Eli was arguing the whole time, and Tyler was yelling at him about something John did not care about in the least.

"Tyler." Eli said in an oddly menacing voice.

"What the fuck?" John looked at Eli who was staring at Tyler, who was actually in the way of Eli parking his bike.

"TYLER." Eli said again, this time sounding like Squidward, "FUCK OUT THE WAY."

"Shut the fuck up." Smii7y huffed from beside John, "Tyler, get the hell out of the way."

"Make me dumbfuck." Tyler crosses his arms, stopping his pointless rant.

Eli threw the bike's parking break on, and kicked the stand down. When Tyler still refused to move, he got off the bike, grabbed Tyler by his arm, and dragged him over to John and Smit.

"Dumbass." Eli grumbled, before finishing his parking job.

Tyler instantly went back to arguing with Eli about something, while John noticed something odd about Smit. He was just staring at him. As creepy as it was, John still found it mildly endearing, he would have been touched by it if he wasn't concerned.

"Smit?" John waved a hand in front of Smit's face.

"Oh! Sorry John, kinda zoned out." Smii7y said happily. Okay...? Maybe he was alright. "You wanna see what I got you?"

Hell yeah he did

"Sure Smit." With That, Smii7y beamed, and headed off to a different part of the garage, slipping in between bikes, and heading to another room, to which lead through a hallway.

"Sorry, seems kind of sketch, but Its where I put my extra, not so lucky, or in progress bikes." Smit chuckled.

Now that John thought of it, he did see Smit go back here to get his duel Super H2R. John figured since the door, and hallway was big enough, he probably brought the bikes in and out for repairs.

John actually had hardly thought Smit did that by himself. He had figured Smit probably knew how to do it, but just sent them away because he had money, and was too lazy to do it himself.

John would probably do that too.

Come on, who wants to do 70 different oil changes on 70 different bikes, to take it out once and not ride it for awhile?

Not him.

Someone else can do that for him.

It seemed Smit had that same idea, but got professional paint jobs. He told John he settled for doing wraps himself.

'Wrapping is easy if you don't fuck up. If you fuck up once, it's all fucked up forever.' He had told him.

Smii7y walked up to one of his shops, he presumed, and walked in the side door. John would be lying if he said this place was easy to navigate. It was a fucking maze. John would need Smit's help to get back, that's for sure.

Once Johns eyes laid upon the bike, he was shocked.

Another Superleggera?

What the fuck, that's one of 500.

"All yours." Smit looked towards John.

"Smit you do realize-." John was stunned. What a early birthday he was having.

"No I don't wanna hear it."

"That's one of 500, Smit."

"One of 501, actually." Smit huffed.