Behold! Juniors cometh!
Over yonder, atop that shining mount! Doth my eyes bequeath me?
Peer further chuckleheads. The palm trees are nigh.
This is street level s***.
Hark! The JUNIOR JUNIORS! Torchbearers of the flakka flame and residing where teh spice is nice.
The ones with the sunkissed faces, wrap-around blades and rude tudes.
Slurpin on a 32oz Icee frum Costco. Blue razzleberry or cherry mixed with cola, ONLY.
You’ll know us. We are the ones gettin’ crit, lookin’ at old saucy mags, and livin’ that looney tunes lyfestyle. All us bikes got stunt pegs cos a Junior never leaves a Junior behind.
If you want to BE next level you have to ROLL next level.
Forsooth! No snitches.
“Is any of this street legal?” You tell me, muchacho.
Remember that scene in Rush Hour 2 when they r getting chased down the alley by outlaws on dirt bikes and one of them sees that the bed of a fruit truck is angled down so he ramps his dirt bike right off the back of that f***** thing onto the rooftops and then he’s just driving on top of buildings? It’s badass.
That’s the vibe.