"A Little Girl Says To The Hells Angels: ""Hello, Sir, My Mother Has a Tattoo Just Like Yours"" — What… The heat coming off the asphalt of the rural Nevada gas station was a physical thing, a shimmering wall that made the distant mesas tremble. Arthur ""Grizz"" Thompson felt it soaking through the worn soles of his boots as he filled his tank, the smell of high-octane gas a familiar, acrid perfume. He was a man in his late 60s, built like the busted-down refrigerator he'd hauled to the dump last