The local newspaper reported that a potential bar fight between rival chopper gangs was quickly and peacefully averted by Duane Hawkinson, owner of Duane's pretty good Smokehouse Salsa. According to first-hand accounts . . .
Tensions rose as the two gangs actually mixed up
their reservations and ended up in the same Roadhouse bar. Instead of admitting
to an error, the leaders “got all up in each other’s faces,” according to an
anonymous source, who went on to say, “and then that Smokehouse dude got up,
approached the smelly thugs, and offered them each a jar of Duane’s pretty good Smokehouse Salsa.”
The bartender picked up the story from there. “Holy sh*t! It was
amazin’! I’m tellin’ ya, I thought they was gonna f*****ing kill him, but no!
It was a f****g miracle! J****s H. Chr**t! I’m not a f*****g religious dude or
nothin’, but it was a f****g god-d**mn miracle!”
Though, having aged a few days, the story has taken many
forms, the gist of it is that after Hawkinson offered the jars of Duane’s pretty good Smokehouse Salsa all
anyone could hear for the next fifteen minutes was the sound of salsa slopping
and chip-munching. “And how they f****ing stretched out two jars to f*****ing
feed thirty f****ing bikers, I’ll never know," explained the bartender. “It’s
like the five f****ing loaves story all f****ing over again!”
When asked how he felt about preventing an all-out battle,
lost lives, hurt feelings, burnt out buildings, chaos in the streets, and
general civil strife, Duane Hawkinson, owner of Duane’s pretty good Smokehouse Salsa, replied,
“Pretty good.”
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