The Collected Online Works of Gustavo.
Links. SHITSLUT ORIGINS, VOLUME 3: THE PEACE POLICE COMETH

Chapter 1: Old Friends, New Places

"Daaaaaaaaamn" said the black man standing on the street corner selling newspapers as the motorcycle jumped over the flaming delivery transport truck filled with rare and valuable pianos.
The driver got out in a hurry -- a exploding projectile of unknown and likely hostile originations had struck the truck and exploded upon impact with the truck. Fortunately, the fire was small at first, as the truck carrying the expensive and valuable and rare pianos was hefty and designed for just such an occasion: a mystery rocket attack. The back storage space in the van had seen worse, much worse, and the driver smiled coquettishly like a rogue as he got out in a hurry.
After he was out, the driver ran away from the van pronto, because even though the pianos were protected from the fire and explosions, he wasn't. But the pianos were safe, and the fire department would be on the scene to put out the fires, and his employer, this mysterious "Mr. Xyz" would be satisfied, because the pianos would be safe.
But in all of the confusion, the driver had missed one little thing: the motorcycle that had jumped over the truck in the first place as the rocket had struck the truck, at the very same time in fact, because the motorcycle driver had planned it to be that way because he had been the one that fired the rocket in the first place while he had been speeding toward the truck. No one could see who the motorcycle driver was, in fact, because there was a black motorcycle helmet over his or her head that had a black plastic face shield on it that he or she could see out of but no one could see into without great difficulty.
"You escaped the rocket, but you're not going to escape this, motherfucker asshole" said the mysterious man on the motorcycle with the motorcycle helmet as he took out a razor sword and sped toward the unaware truck driver. "FUccc" said the truck driver as his shit got all cut up.