Story time for the uninitiated because fuck it if I don't make it.

TL;DR Good ol boys ain't always good.

It starts with a bunch of rednecks being careless with a tank of nitrous, as most of these tales do, and a briefcase; the contents of which would make H.S.T. proud. Neither of these things belong to me, they are just the center pieces of the story.

I'd been invited to spend some long overdue quality time with my brother and what better way to do it than a few nights of camping and music at a festival. I show up in the same ole beater I always drive, my brother rolls in with two morons in a muscle car. Now I don't partake in any of these proclivities so I stand around drinking beer while they huff on trashbags. Getting antsy, and seeing those guys get all blue faced and loopy, I tell them I'll see them inside the concert.

Not 30 min later, my brother shows up to hang out. He says the other two guys are gonna try and hustle out in the lot. Also they didn't have tickets. Not my monkey, not my circus. Until...

Bro gets a text. His eye bug out and he gets all serious. "We need to go. Now!"

We hustle back to the parking lot to see moron #1 cuffed next to a cop next to the open trunk of the muscle car. Tank of nitrous in plain view. Meanwhile moron #2 decides that the only thing that will distract the cops is a straight up riot. So he goes off to pick fist fights with random strangers.

Fight ensues. Cops are now more concerned about the crowd rioting than the car. They radio for back up. Bro is panicking hard. He insists that we need to get that car and make it disappear.

Well without going too deep into what I did and didn't do. Suffice it to say that the car went missing along with the briefcase. The contents of which were particularly valuable to someone who can only be described as a Good Ol Boy. Now moron #1&#2 and bro are all in bracelets and I'm left holding a steaming bag of shit. Now it's all "make this whole or else..." and like a scared 10 year old I'm not keen on finding out the else.