Cross the Comanchero bikie club, and you could end up like “Spaghetti Legs”. It was the nickname given to a rival who was once so brutally beaten that the punishment passed into the gang’s lore.

The man, stupidly, had called a high-ranking member of the outlaw motorcycle gang a dog.

Revenge was swift and merciless, delivered by a technique underworld sources call a “Comanchero break” – the victim is held in a headlock or pinned to the ground as members jump or stomp on their legs.

In this case, a 120-kilogram bikie turned the victim’s thighs and calves to mush.

The shocking tale has come to light during a nine-week trial, unable to be reported until now, related to the criminal activities of the Comancheros, the most powerful bikie club in the nation.

In late November, three people were convicted of murder in the Supreme Court of Victoria over the shooting death of a man five years ago. Another was found not guilty of assisting an offender following the murder.

The verdict could not be reported until now for legal reasons, and suppression orders continue to prevent publication of the names of the people involved in the case.

The jury’s guides on this in-depth journey into the inner workings of the club were a top-ranked organised crime detective and a slew of supergrass witnesses who testified for the prosecution.

The case laid bare some of the deepest, darkest secrets of the so-called 1% club, including the rigid hierarchy of the outlaw motorcycle gang (OMG) societies in which loyalty and brutality are prized above all else.

Here, inflicting violence is both a skill and a punchline:

Later, the bikie would tell a psychologist: “I like to hurt people, I get joy out of it.”

These were no random acts of violence but a fundamental part of life in an outlaw motorcycle gang.

One of the star witnesses at the trial was Inspector Wayne Cheesman, a veteran detective formerly of the Echo taskforce, which specialises in bikies.

“I’ll be careful what I say, but there is a lot of testosterone in the clubs,” Cheesman told the jury. “Yes, there’s a lot of ego, there’s a lot of testosterone. They’re a group of formidable men – they look the part, they act the part, that’s part of the attraction, to be honest.

“Reputation is probably one of the most important things that clubs seek because it gives them a legitimacy, power, authority and a way of ‘We’re not to be messed with’, if I sum it up like that.”

The Comancheros – like all bikie clubs – had a rigid set of rules, Cheesman testified.

The court was shown a document that contained the 11 rules of the gang, which prizes loyalty and the code of silence above all else.

“Any display of cowardice will not be tolerated” is rule No.1.

There are even rules laid down about the exact type of motorcycle a member must ride while wearing their “colours”.

“Club patch will be protected with your life,” according to the regulations for a “nominee” or new potential member.

And the Comancheros’ dedication and fixation on their colours, the vest and patches worn by members, are more rigid than in a military unit.

“In joining the club, your allegiance and your commitment is to the club,” Cheesman said.

Transgressions for something as simple as taking a tranquilliser resulted in a “bitch slap” from those higher up the food chain, the court heard.

Cheesman testified that internal rivalries led to regular acts of violence. This could be for sleeping with another member’s wife.

The court also heard stories about how easily fatal conflict threatened to break out for even the most capricious of reasons.

One example was a simple, misunderstood message from one member criticising another for missing a club dinner.

“I’m filthy on [fellow member], bro. I think I’m gonna set him up and shoot him dead. It’s a massive move, but I’m angry as f--- now … Try and get tools [guns].”

“F--- this c---,” his friend responded.

But it was all a mistake, and no blood was shed – that time.

The trial heard debt collection was a key business for the Comancheros. Whether that be collecting for themselves or others, violence was always at the forefront of their minds.

Carrying out this violence, which often involved shooting a person in the knee or leg, known as kneecapping, was permitted only with the approval, or “OK”, of the club.

Top-tier members, who decide on club activities, can also call in the favours of non-members – people in the community who carry with them feared reputations and a penchant for madness.

One such non-member has since been shot dead, a crime that has never been solved.

These men, some called in for muscle, then meet at cafes, restaurants, gyms, public parks and even a popular Melbourne strip club to discuss club business.

Challenging its authority or disrespecting the club can come at a high price.

When close to 80 people from the opposing side showed up at a venue where a debt was to be discussed, members took great offence to being told: “We are gentlemen; you will walk out of here alive.”

One member recalled: “I could tell that members of the [ethnicity] group were also armed by the way they were standing with hands in bum bags and stuff like that.”

Soon after, two on the opposing team landed themselves on the Comanchero hit list.

Weeks later, one of their family members was dead – shot multiple times in the torso as he drove home alone in his car.

“He was the new target. We had to just take care of business, you know,” a witness told the court.

A recent trial heard that black market guns were pricey and difficult to acquire. When some were brought to the Comancheros years earlier, from a credible source, they were rejected as members feared they had been buried and damaged, calling them “Pirates of the Carribean-style” weapons.

One former member told a recent court hearing he preferred to take a knife to a gunfight.

“I trust the knife. A knife doesn’t jam, a knife is a better weapon in close quarters, a knife is quicker and more deadly,” the witness said.

That is, of course, the court heard if members weren’t “snapping” legs or kneecapping with bullets instead.

When it comes to club business, most meetings occur at a strip club, a gym, parks or the driveways of homes. Other meetings took place in cafes and restaurants as members preferred Chinese and Italian food, one former member told the court.

In one murder, the decision to kill a man was made in the car park of a suburban Red Rooster.

That man’s address, the court heard, had been handed to the contract killers on a Post-it note.

“I’ll leave it to you, happy hunting,” club friend and crime figure Nabil Maghnie said to a member soon after.

Maghnie was later gunned down in daylight on an Epping street in an unsolved homicide.

One former Comanchero member said that to distance themselves from the killing of the other man, they had discussed pointing the finger at Maghnie because “Nabil was dead now”.

Following the murder, at a “patch party” complete with “Comos” balloons, members – who posed for selfies – were rewarded with new material to emblazon on their leathers.

The ultimate sign of loyalty. That is, other than inflicting spaghetti legs.

John Silvester lifts the lid on Australia’s criminal underworld. Subscribers can sign up to receive his Naked City newsletter every Thursday.