Tour De Kits

So I was sitting in The Fringe last night, having a glass of wine and watching American Dad with Nigel, Bryce and Dee Dee. It was quiet and in between TV shows, the talk turned to Real Estate, major appliances, and politics. Yes, we are all so grown up over here. And, to be honest, we were a little bored. But then we were saved!

All of a sudden, five guys storm in. They are wearing bike helmets, bike jerseys and shorts, with long underwear underneath, (Except for the guy with the inexplicable capri pants) and one guy was also wearing a Canada hockey jersey. “Nous wantons le special, si vous plait. Nous are on the Tour De Kits!”

Their evening’s mission was to bike around the neighbourhood, drinking in each establishment, and talking in bad French accents. These were not finely tuned cycling machines. There was some paunch, there was some beanpole. Just regular guys who found a way to have fun on a Sunday night.

We chatted to them for a while, and we all tried to keep up the French accents. Nigel’s slips into a Bavarian one after a sentence or so, but that was okay as well. We discussed how many testicles Lance Armstrong has, and whether or not the rough terrain of the sidewalks could be counted as ‘mountainous’.

And then their beers were done, and they were racing to the next establishment, the tallest and gawkiest and most scrofulous-bearded of them dancing a crazy hip hop dance out the door.

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