There was a time when no respectable motorist would admit to owning a trike. It was a kink you worked out on your own, once everyone else was in bed, behind sound-proofed garage doors. And then one day the Rampant Rocket launched, and everything changed. Once that supercharger found its way between your legs, it was impossible to be discreet, and impossible to feel ashamed. This is what liberation looks like.
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