Monday, January 2, 2012

We sleep soundly in our beds because rough men stand ready in the night to visit violence in the course of bicycle delivery

Rest assured, dear customer, that whatever adverse conditions may be thrown up in their path, the Riddled delivery staff are steadfast and stalwart and trained for every circumstance, and your bicycle will be delivered.

A little rain? Floods, mud? Bridges washed out and slippery tree-trunks the only way over the raging torrent? Biko man is always intense.

The forces of anti-bicyclism may be strong in these lawless days, but the Riddled delivery staff are stronger. They are ruthless. They are heavily armed, and they are not afraid of weird colours in the sky. They realise that a sacred charge is in their care, for you, the customer, are waiting for that bicycle.
Depending on the state of the county roads and the operations of the Mollycule theory, you may find that the bicycle upon receipt contains 10% or more of atoms from the delivery rider, who is conversely 10% or more bicycle. This contingency is covered by clause 16 of the rider codicil of the purchase contract, where the helpful Table II lays out the available options for different proportions of atomic interchange.

Do not attempt mollycule interchange with Table II, however helpful it becomes.

Must credit Ptak Books, albeit in vanishingly small print.


ifthethunderdontgetya™³²®© said...

There are this many battalions in a bicycle brigade, he briefed.

tigris said...

Labels: about a bicycle, beware of this and that

zombie rotten mcdonald said...

Biko man is always intense.

Nice one, Otto.

Whale Chowder said...

Exchanging molecules.

Substance McGravitas said...

Rest assured, dear customer, that whatever adverse conditions may be thrown up in their path

I see the gentlemen in image one have already made their rainbow correction.

mikey said...

Huh. Whaddaya know?

Now, see, I woulda thunk that you'd sling your rifle across your back and RIDE the bicycle, but it remains a possibility that I was just doin it worng. Or that this lad is creative in a way that most of us with infernal combustion engines and two lane blacktop NOT called the Ho Chi Minh Expressway could never dream of being.

But here's my fear. Next thing, we'd start taking some incoming rounds and I'd reach back and unsling my trusty bicycle, aim it carefully downrange and find it non-functional when it comes to the task of spitting hot lead. Determining it to be jammed, I would wander helplessly around the battlefield, forlornly looking for Smut, trying to explain "It's about a bicycle"...