Congratulations! If you are reading this then you have just been accepted into the Post-Apocalyptic Young Gentleman's Motor Club, or PAYGMC, Australian Chapter #235. You should be very proud of yourself at this moment, for few make it past the crucifixion and tickle party that is included in the test of trials. You are now part of an elite road warrior club that takes pride in their handiwork of mayhem. You are here because like the rest of us, you have a special attitude that will take you far in the post-nuclear holocaust, and you want a life better for you and yours. This manual will be your best friend for your first couple of months riding with us. It will teach you all you need to know, which is a good thing since most of the members can only grunt or make lewd gestures to communicate. Memorize this manual front to back, and don’t lose it! If you misplace it, then Lord Humungus will bury you in the sand up to your neck and read his 500 page manifesto to you through his PA system while rubbing mayonnaise on his abs. Welcome to the club.
As a member of PAYGMC you should be aware of the history of the club dating back to the time of the great fires. At one time, this land was brimming with civilization. Tall buildings loomed everywhere, lush vegetation covered everything in sight, and tasty candies called PEZ were dispensed from the necks of lovable pop icons. Thankfully, that all changed when the sky exploded and everything caught on fire, and the glorious age of the young gentleman’s club came to be. We simply were not suited for that time. Most of us were government clerks and mail sorters in the old world, but throwing heavy chains at people and shooting tires with crossbows was our true calling.
Wrist crossbows are soooo last year.
Lord Humungus worked as a bank teller at Bank One in Sydney when the city exploded. He was saved because he was in the vault at the time making love to a bag of deposit slips. The fallout was not so kind to him, mutating his face to look like Regis Philbin and causing him to lose his hair. This fueled the hate seething inside of him, and he started his life over, finding random survivors to join his club by wresting them to the ground and making them sign a 10 year contract with an option to extend. Most of the survivors of the nuclear holocaust tried to rebuild, gathering vital supplies like food, medicine, and fuel. Humungus on the other hand focused on getting a really cool mask and building a dune buggy that could totally shoot like 5 arrows at once and had a boss nitro tank system. For those who refused to pitch in and help rebuild the shattered world, the club was a refuge for the dangerous and lazy. Membership swelled in numbers, and even though there is a very high turnover rate due to accidental deaths, we are still the number #1 barbarian motor club in the eastern Australia area. Our club motto is “AAAAARRRRGGGG!”.
We are fairly laid back here at PAYGMC but we do have a set of rules that everybody has to abide by without question or get drawn and quartered by motorcycles. There’s not many, but it is very important to follow them if you wish to be a member of this organization.
1. Unnecessary violence is tolerated, but only to outsiders. If you kill another member you get a demerit point.
2. Any loot or fuel you plunder must be shared with the group or your hands will get your hands cut off, dipped in tar, killed, and will receive 3 demerit points.
3. Reload the arrow guns after using them.
4. No pets allowed, but you can keep sex slaves (if they’ve been tested).
5. No mustaches.
6. Have fun! No really have fun or you will get 5 demerit points. Demerit points can be redeemed at the end of the month for spankings by Lord Humungus
"Use the buddy system."
Helmets and Padding- You will need some sort of protection out there because chances are that you will get thrown from a moving vehicle at very high speeds. Every month we go searching for the ruins of sporting goods stores and stock up on gear that’s made for an old world sport called “hockey”. It can get pretty hot out there with all the padding on so you need to make sure you are properly vented so you don’t overheat. See the section on assless chaps.
Weapons- Since bullets and guns are in short supply, we mostly use bows and crossbows to dispatch our victims, but we have been known to use homemade flails, chains, and harpoons. One of our members, Franklin, invented a weapon that is a mop combined with a shard of glass that utilizes the full spectrum of the rainbow to lay waste to any enemy that opposes us. He calls it the “Ronnie James Dio Experience”. Unfortunately, we can only use it once a week so we normally have to rely on arrows and bolts.
Assless Chaps- To be a member of the PAYGMC, you need to own a pair of assless chaps. This is the club is most known for and after attacking some poor sod on the road, they will know it was us by our assless chaps. Sure they can’t tell anybody because they’ll be dead, but in their last moments they will see our ass cheeks and know their doom is neigh. Also as mentioned before, you need to properly vent your body so you don’t overheat, and this is best done by venting the buttocks. 80% of the body’s heat comes from the rear. Just be aware of the scorching sun and use protection, at least SPF 35.
For the type of riding we will be doing, your best bet is either a motorcycle or dune buggy, but we welcome diversity. If you happen to have an old Chevy, emergency vehicle, or hovercraft, you are more than welcome to drive them if you can keep up. SUV’s and minivans are out of the question because they really don’t go with the image we are trying to present. We are stabbing people in the face and stealing their fuel, not dropping them off at soccer practice. As long as it’s not those, or those god awful Scions, its all good.
V. Tips and Pointers
This is just like my morning commute to Detroit. But I kid Detroit.
Just be yourself. Don’t be afraid to express yourself. We encourage that you dress in your own style as long as it doesn’t look overly garish. Mohawks are the favorites for their savage look, but if you want to try something new like the “Big Capo”, go for it. As far as decorating your vehicle, we recommend adorning it with the body parts of your slain victims. Be creative.
Don’t try to catch razor-edged boomerangs thrown by feral children bare-handed. Also tell your effeminate male sex slaves to pay attention so they don’t get beaned in the head. We lose more that way than you would believe.
Floss and brush 3 times a day. Fresh breath is an oral handshake.
While not chasing a victim, take it easy on the gas pedal. Fuel is the most precious commodity and it is not to be wasted on motorized tomfoolery. Car pooling is recommended, but not enforced.
Use the buddy system. When you try to lift a corpse out of its burning wreckage, get another person to help you. Back injuries are the #1 cause of Lord Humungus to throw a harpoon into a hurt and useless club member.
Jump onto moving vehicles first, ask questions like, “Why the hell am I doing this?” later.
If a poisonous snake is dropped on top of you from a gyrocopter, don’t freak out and shoot your own driver with your arrow gun, making the vehicle lose control and blow up. Its probably just as scared as you are.
You may challenge Lord Humungus at any time. You need to be a member for 3 years, own a gun (with bullets), and have a wonderful speaking voice.
Remember these easy to remember steps while on the road:
Pass on the left
Eat road kill when you can find it
Always check your blind spot before ramming into another vehicle
Not Without My Daughter is a great movie
Unable to think of any tips for this one
Take no prisoners. Unless you really want one. Don’t expect me to clean up after it.
LORD HUMUNGUS HATES CLOUDS!
401K/Retirement: Low yield junk bonds.
I, (sign your name here, or just mash some rocks into the paper), hand over my life to The Post-Apocalyptic Young Gentleman’s Motor Club and swear to uphold the laws of lawlessness drawn up in this contract. I will bathe rarely, behave unruly, headbutt frequently, and act as an instrument of war controlled by the almighty leader of the club. If and when he deems it time to kick me out of the club I must let myself be killed without putting up a fight or whining about it. I will do my best each and every day to destroy our enemies or anybody with a customized licence plate. To this I am bound through brotherhood, exhaust, and assless chaps. All praise our God of war, Toby the Tire.
We might find we have more in common than we think if we just stop fighting long enough to combine our bodies into a singular organism.
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