JOE JUKIC — CHAPLAIN’S ANNOUNCEMENT
East End Chapter Presidential Poll
“Let the righteous vote, and let the wicked stay silent.”
Brothers,
This is your chaplain speaking — Joe Jukic, the reverend with a revved-up V-twin and a Revelation tattoo on my ribcage. Before I lead the next Sunday burnout and say grace over our ribs and bourbon, I’ve got Heaven’s Orders and Hell’s Permission to conduct a sacred, blood-oath-level poll:
Who shall be president of the East End Chapter?
Our chapter’s been running strong, but every crew needs a captain when the road forks between purgatory and paradise. You all know we don’t do democracy the way the suits do — we don’t trust ballots unless they’re burned, stamped in oil, or blessed by tire smoke and loyalty.
But this is your chance to speak, and I’m watching. Heaven is recording. And so is the street.
REMEMBER: This ain’t just about who wears the patch. It’s about who holds the flame. Who keeps the wolves in line. Who talks to God when the gas tank’s empty and we’re rolling into a town full of devils.
Vote with your gut. Vote with your scars. And if the FBI asks, tell ’em we’re choosing a new mascot.
Blessed be the rebels.
– JCJ, Chaplain of the Hell’s Angels, East End Chapter
“The Lord is my shepherd, but I ride with the sheepdogs.” ?️?✝️
My pick is Tony. He has the club house if we buy his parents plane tickets to Portugal. -- JCJ
East End Chapter – Clubhouse Meeting
The smell of gasoline and leather lingers in the air as the newly formed East End chapter gathers in the back of an old mechanic’s garage. The club flag—black and gold with the roaring lion—hangs from a chain-link fence behind the makeshift podium. Tony stands at the front, flanked by patched members, both old and new. His presence commands respect.
A grizzled rider steps forward, known only as “Crank.”
Crank:
“Tony… the East End chapter’s rolling now. But we need structure. Time to name your crew—Vice President, Sergeant-at-Arms, Chaplain, Secretary, Treasurer. We need to know who’s watching our backs, who’s handling the books, and who’s got the club’s soul.”
Tony nods, eyes scanning the crowd.
Tony:
“You’re right, Crank. This ain’t no garage club—we’re building something solid here. So here’s how it’s gonna go down…”
He raises a gloved hand, and the room falls silent.
Tony:
“I’ll be taking recommendations and making appointments. We need loyalty, strength, brains—and someone who ain’t afraid to pray when the road gets dark.”