CycleChat The Novel.

[User32269]

Calling all frustrated (but lazy) writers.
Anybody fancy writing a collaborative novel via the medium of CycleChat?
Just post your short contribution to carry on from the previous post. Let's see where it goes. The inevitable millions earned from E Book sales and film rights will be split, sort of equally, between all authors.

CHAPTER ONE
​

Flint McSteel knew it was time to leave, the question was how? Deciding instantly upon the Raleigh Pioneer, he was soon gliding through the mean urban streets.
Flint knew his way around this city; His city. He was top of the food chain, still, a feeling of foreboding shrouded him uneasily today.
Braking harshly caused a small back wheel skid upon the smooth tarmac, Flint had arrived at his destination. The solid, carved wood door was designed to impress, Flint glanced at the name upon the brass plate, his eyes narrowed slightly, he knew what needed to be done.

​

 

[Bazzer]

Dismounting, he locked his bike. The scum round here would see the Raleigh decals and the bike would be gone in an instant.
His hand reached out for the bell. No sound, but the flicker on the back light suggested the circuit was working
He heard the click of footsteps on the other side of the solid structure and the door opened.

 

[Dave 123]

Lord Drago was sat in his study, there was a knock at the door. His butler entered....

"My Lordship, you have a visitor "

"Send him in Accy" bellowed the hunchbacked noble

 

[Pat "5mph"]

Can I be the editor?

 

[User32269]

Can I be the editor?

Of course you can Pat, thank you!

 

[Randomnerd]

"Mr Mc Steel to see you, your Lordship. Beggin' yer pardon, sir, but I've got to get off early sir, for the assessment, sir, you remember...?"
But Drago wasn't listening any more.
Was that the same Mc Steel he'd rollocked with on the playing fields of Chartwell? The same darling Flinty that shared all those knickerbocker glories on the seafronts of all those seaside towns all those years ago?
"Do come in, Flint. Did you come by...bicycle?"

 

[User32269]

Lord Drago was sat upon the Chesterfield, sipping Babycham from a rather extravagant fluted glass. Flint could not fail to notice his Lordships kitten heeled sandles and white socks.

 

[Pat "5mph"]

"What a common question, Drago" said Flint, "it shows what you are now"

 

[biggs682]

When all of a sudden the lord slipped off his chesterfield chair and landed on his backside rather awkwardly .

 

[deptfordmarmoset]

(Shouldn't this thread have started with ''It was the best of rides, it was the worst of rides''?)

 

[Paulus]

Calling for his valet, he carefully raised his nether regions onto the parquet flooring which had recently been polished. Sliding across the dining room he called once again for the Port only to be dismissed by the cleaning maid--

 

[Drago]

I huddle by my fire, toasting my crumpt. I turned to McSteel and said, "Flinters, I have a problem, and I need your help."

Fearing he would again be asked to apply Lord Drago's pile ointment, McSteel flinched, and realised he'd done nothing more than graze one of the Lord's voluminous rolls of waist 'muscle'.

 

[Randomnerd]

"I'm not cut out for this any more, dear Flinty; you know I'm not. Can't you see I'm hurting inside? Can't you see beneath this neglige beats the heart of a man who feels wronged? Can't you? Can't you help me up old fruit?"
Mc Steel stooped for the old fool, glancing down into the rumpled folds of his belly beneath the foamy filigree. He knew this would never be easy, never be right, never be good.
Iago Drago had been his Iago, his prize. And as the crumpled fool raised one flaccid arm toward him to be helped to his feathery feet, McFlint smiled and let the glistening dirk fly into the poor, upholstered ribs, the heavy heart, the dying lips....

 

[User32269]

The years had been cruel to the Peer. The days when he had been a simple window dresser known as Flossy who had also worked tirelessly for the SWP, had long gone. Flint struggled to recognise the dying grotesque upon the parquet floor.

 

[Pale Rider]

"Cleat marks," murmured the old peer.

"Someone's been walking on my parquet in ruddy cleats.

"If only they'd logged on to CycleChat they would know there's no benefit to the poxy things.

A glint appeared in Flinty's eyes.

"Shall I start a poll about that?" he said.