Although the first parts about masculine anger starts in a dark place, the minute Biker Bob shows up the adventure and Goreman’s transformation unfolds.

I’m Thomas Goreman, a big-ass Las Vegas a cop on a mission. I’ll bust those sleeze-ball drug-dealing bikers I’ve been watching for months and get the recognition I deserve. Unfortunately, the bust of a lifetime goes sour and a kilo of coke turns out to be a 1937 Harley oil pump. After that fiasco, I spend the rest of the day in a local bar. Half drunk go home and without meaning to, I beat my wife silly. It’s not a good day.

After I make bail, get kicked out of my own house and get suspended from the force I proceed to binge my way through the next few days in a crappy hotel on the south end of town. The words from one of the bikers keeps reverberating in my head, “get a handle on your anger, Twig”. I hate that name.

At the end of that long drunken spree, an unlikely person suggests that alcohol might be the root of my problems, so I quit for the first time in twenty years. While going through withdrawals, I hallucinate some guy named Biker Bob who tells me to get out of town.

The next day, a hundred miles from Vegas and any chance of a drink, I turn onto a deserted dirt road and drive until dark through the open desert ending out of gas in a deserted ghost town. From there, my adventure begins.