If I can scrounge up the parts, maybe a bike like this. A sleek machine replete with a host of ghoulish accoutrements. Goat horn clip-ons, twin coach turn signals and eye socket LED headlight. I lust for the rider as well. She, of the ceremonial Third Reich headgear, firm buttocks and dagger-backed spinal column.
If one were to pull up behind this rig, with its seductive operator, the view would be superb. He would follow, mesmerized, all the way to the Fatherland or to the very gates of Hell.