The Smokehouse of Iron Break Time

He pulled the old rig out to the curb. A of Reds were ready. The air was thick with the aroma of diesel and stale cigarettes. Iron Mike lit up, took a long drag, and let out a cloudthat serpent's breath. He leaned back on his pickup, watching the street go by. barking at a squirrel sped past Tyson Vapor: Championship Taste Prepare to enter

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