Talk:Bobby Skinner

Bobby Skinner "'Cause if corn don't kill me, I might never die!" - Ketch Secor Measurements Apparent Age: Mid-Twenties Family: Skinner Height: 5'11" Build: Wiry Hair: Russet Eyes: Brown Occupation: Bootlegger Virtue: Fortitude Vice: Impetuousness Notoriety: Miscreant Played by: Tallahassee Tall Tales Born for speed right in the back of a trailer to Chloe Skinner, Bobby has been racing on foot since he learned to walk, and in a car since he learned to drive at 14. The penchant for speed followed him later on in life, and now he's moved on from foot races to skidding through the streets and back roads in his heavily customized 1968 Dodge Charger. The body of the old, beat up machine looks like it's seen better days and a lot of them, but on the inside, it's rumored that he's dumped almost every dime he's earned into making that engine as powerful and agile as possible. These days, Bobby's name is well known among the local police. If you've been on the beat for any length of time, you likely know full well Bobby Skinner's full name, and are no doubt familiar with his penchant for running from authority. He probably knows your name too, though there's no false pretense that the first name basis he carries with most local police is indicative of anything remotely close to friendship Friends and Kinfolk Don Skinner I was born and raised a bootlegger's boy. Caroline Skinner No speed limits, no stop signs! The rest of you. Shindigging o Runnin' shine. If you're an officer of the county department and would like a chase scene, try pulling Bobby over at the right time. o Street racing. Burn rubber, burn gas, bet cash. Bobby will never turn down an engine rev at a redlight. o Banjo. He plays, and he plays well, sticking to roots style folk with the occasional influence of bluegrass. o Dirt weed. If you need a hook up, he's selling. o Local Boy. If you're a local too, you might know all too well Bobby's rather infamous reputation as a ne'er do well and rapscallion. Pickin' and Grinnin' Hugo - Ninety Nine Problems Tip my hat to the sun in the west, Feel the beat right in my chest. At the crossroads a second time, Make the devil change his mind. It's a pound of flesh but it's really a ton, 99 problems and a bitch ain’t one.' Cage the Elephant - Ain't No Rest for the Wicked No I can't slow down, I can't hold back, Though you know I wish I could. No there ain't no rest for the wicked, Until we close our eyes for good. Pretty as a Picture Logs Nothing yet.