 chase it with my beer, what I'd do is I would spit that shot back into my beer bottle, and then they'd line up the next shot, and I'd bang that one back, and so in their eyes, man, I was going shot for shot with them. Throughout the case, Jay grew tight with many of the Hells Angels. He slept in their homes, held their babies, spent holidays with them, but never lost sight of the fact that he'd eventually have to bring them down. No one, none of us, is ever comfortable with betrayal.