ENGLEWOOD — Padre sits sunken into a couch in a cluttered office, legs crossed.
The black boots, jeans and leather vest, the unmistakable trappings of the modern-day biker, somehow clash with his soft-spoken, laid back demeanor. Standing beside him, a statue of the Virgin Mary gazes lovingly across the room at another couch where Boodan, a ventriloquist’s dummy also wearing biker garb, stares into space like he’s lost in thought.
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