Mid nineties, there were three of us. All recently discharged vets. I went to work first, they went to the middle east for a few months. I was managing a muffler shop and hired one of them, then the other one. We were called either the three musketeers or thee three stooges, depending on who you talked to. #2 owned a house with a big empty shop out back, near a state highway and a military base. We spent a lot of time building go karts to ride on the highway and on the sandy tank trails across the highway. The owners of the muffler shop had a son who supposedly worked at their shop. I thought he got in the way and caused problems. We called him UPS..useless POS... He bought a Yamaha IT175 that he couldn't get running. I don't know why, but it ended up spending the winter leaning on the wall in that shop. While we were out there cutting pipe, welding and drinking beer all winter and early spring, one day it was too cold and windy to go outside and drain my bladder, so I stepped up on the pegs and urinated in the gas tank of that Yamaha. Haha, we laughed and used it all winter and spring when the weather was bad. Late spring, early summer, we had a croud of families, kids and fellow illicit kart riders to go explore the military base trails across the highway.
UPS showed up with some friends to get that bike running before they took it away. They kicked and kicked, it barked a few times, then they tied a rope to it and pulled it around for a while. It started and ran, but smoked alot. He rode it around a little bit and when he rode past the Three of us, the smell hit us. Two of us looked at each other, amazed after we remembered the contents of that gas tank. WE absolutely cracked up, and #3 stooge wanted to know what was wrong with our dummasses. We tried to tell him it was running on our pi**, but we could not get the words out.
