The Rolling Stones by Philip Townsend.
By the time Steve [McQueen] had terminal cancer, he’d amassed a great collection of nearly 200 motorcycles. 50-some cars and 5 planes stored at the Santa Paula airport north of L.A. One day, near the end of his life, Steve showed up at Von Dutch’s workshop. He picked up a .45 automatic, checked to see that it was loaded, stuffed it into his belt and walked out. He got into the cockpit of his PT-17 Stearman biplane, taxied down the runway and took off out over the pacific. Von Dutch figured that was the last he’d ever see of McQueen…or the plane. Not a bad way for a living legend to take his leave of the world. Hours passed, Von Dutch recalled, when finally out of the dusk came the sound of a sputtering engine running on empty. McQueen dropped down out of the sky and landed the biplane, taxiing back to it’s parking space in front of the hanger.
As McQueen got out of the plane, Von Dutch said, “Chicken shit.”
“Fuck you,” McQueen replied. “I just didn’t want to scratch it.”
“You dirty old bastard.”
The Great Rock and Roll Swindle
John Lydon 1978