CycleChat The Novel.

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Pat "5mph"

A kilogrammicaly challenged woman
Moderator
Location
Glasgow
Up you get, old, pal, said a sad Flint to Drago.
We must take action now, time to get you into shape again, time to call The Doctor!
There's a new long distance rider in town that can buddy you up ... his name is Super Super Cycling Man, he used to live in Leeds.
 
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User32269

Guest
The moon hung in the sky, meekly lighting the scene unfolding on the cycle path below. Italian Pat, Flint McSteel, Sam Shovel, Dapper Dirk (now wearing a tee shirt with the words I'm Retired emblazoned upon it) Lord Drago, and Lady Stephec all stood astride their rusty steeds.
Accy the butler, for reasons best known to himself, was in a Street Ka with a palm tree buckled into the passenger seat.
Our heroes knew tonight would change the shape of their own destinies, little did they know it would also result in unspeakable tragedy for the group.
Lord Drago was not coping well with his injury from earlier in the day, luckily Pat had a Mister Men sticking plaster, and the plucky aristocrat could ride with his gallant comrades.


CHAPTER TWO
 
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User32269

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Outside the castle, on the edge of the moat, a soggy furry beaver sat in the warm rays of the afternoon sun. The sound of uncontrolled guffawing rang out. Mr Fnaar the postman had spotted something that amused him greatly.
 

classic33

Leg End Member
, when he realised it would be passing close to the ferry, an idea entered his head
 

Drago

Legendary Member
Meanwhile, on the island, Accy the Butler failed to see the 50' long high vis painted lorry and crashed his car into it. The palm tree, sadly died. As Acdy lay in the road cradling the shatter remains, the shadow of the evil Emperor Merciless fell upon him.
 

Pat "5mph"

A kilogrammicaly challenged woman
Moderator
Location
Glasgow
Far away, on another galaxy, the Blue One was finishing his monthly 300k.
A sleek, swift shadow on a sleek, swift carbonated bent horse, unseen, unheard.
A sudden wave of "hi" from a passing mobility scooter shakes him to the bone, a premonition of things to come.
Lifting his Raybans while keeping cadence, he looks at the moon, the outline of a moth, the odor of the night.
The Blue One knows something is stirring over the hills.
 
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