Johnny Gore couldn't wait for the midnight.
During the day, he had run around with the bike, doing nothing more than drinking beer, terrorizing passers-by, and yelling profanities.
Before noon, he was already drunk.
At 2 p.m., he ran in the front of the police car on full throttle, showing the middle finger as a trophy.
At 2:30, he lose his tail from the cops taking a wrong turn, running down a crone in the meantime.
At 3:45, he was mooning at the school buses.
At 5:00, he took a shit on the churchyard.
At 6:30, he made a fight in the pub, splitting some teeth with his big skull rings.
At 8:00, he went to the overpass to throw a couple of stones to the cars passing underneath.
From 9:00 to 10:00 p.m., he vandalized a sectioning point, disfigured a monument with obscene writings, smashed a showcase and stole a bit of trinkets.
At 10:10, he met some friends to get some drugs, and mess up a little, but he was getting a bit tired...
At 11:30, he was already fed up. The friends were blurting something about riding somewhere for a rave, but he could no longer.
He was becoming old, every day he was reaching the point earlier. He could see himself from outside, and wantend this life to end.
Like every night, he nodded to the others and moved away.
After midnight, Johnny Gore could get rid of torn jeans, puked t-shirt, and leather, washed away the drawn tattoos, removed all the clip piercings, and with a sigh of relief wore his suit and his glasses. The night library was waiting for John W. Colophon III, its renowned librarian.