A Testimonial From Modo
"Hey, little doggies. I'm sure you're happy. I'll bet you never had your friends say mean stuff to you. And I'll bet you never said mean stuff to them either. I don't know what happened, but I'm not going to let it lose me my best friends. I'm gonna find them and make up with them right now." Those immortal words escaped my mouth on the day Evil Eye Weevil and his Pukes of Hazard almost separated us—forever. It was probably the worst day of my life other than the day Karbunkle took my arm and hurt one of my eyes. I'm positive that any good citizens with the good sense to understand that my momma didn't raise no stinkin' rat can share the feeling that I had. It was crazy.
You can call me Modo, and you can call my bike "Lil' Darlin'." My bike and I share a special bond with one another, as do my family and I. In fact, if you heard Throttle mention our rock band, my nephew Rimfire is jammin' out on the electric guitar with us. I'm content with the bass guitar, because someone's got to play it. Other than that, my bros and I love crusin' around on our bikes, and playing the game of "Brodies and Bottles," where you drive your bike up to a certain point with a bottle and turn to stop on a dime, marking your position. The biker that comes closest to the bottle without knocking it over wins the game. There was a time when Vinnie beat Throttle and couldn't stop bragging about it—until I beat him. Heh, heh, heh. I remember that one like it was yesterday.
Rimfire and I still love to go fishing from time to time, and I have a sympathetic spot for animals and little kids. Throttle, Vinnie, and I have been known to work with some orphans from time to time, especially around Christmas. I remember that one like it was yesterday, too. The fact that old stinkfish Limburger found a way to control the weather and slow us down could've done them in. And that just angers me to the point of no return. But it saddens me to have heard that day that those orphans had no food, heat, or running water. Good thing my bros and I were there to pull them out of trouble. And yes, I did shed a tear when the kid told me that their house was all smashed down, and it was almost Christmas Day. It was like that old movie. Don't worry, folks. They got a new house—part of the Limburger Tower, in fact. Since the kids had no idea about Limburger, and between you and me, it's best they didn't, we told them their new house was a big contribution from a big man in the business world. What more could you want?
You can run, but you can't hide from me, Limburger! And as for you, Cataclysm, learn this: you mess with me, and that's one thing. When you mess with my bros, you've got a problem. But when you mess with me, my bros, and my bike, it's LIGHTS OUT!
Biker Mice From Mars © Rick Ungar, Tom Tataranowicz, Tom Tataranowicz Animation, Brentwood Television Funnies, and whoever else owns the rights