Ouvert thought long and hard for five minutes, and decided to go home by himself on the train. Belle et Bonne gave him a lift to the station. As he boarded the train she handed him an envelope, folded up very small. Use this in an emergency, she said. Good luck, Ouvert, and goodbye. Whee! said Ouvert. Goodbye!
...........
And now it's the following day. It's Stage Nineteen, and the Tour is in Bonneval. The individual time trials have begun.
Arthur, Sweezus and Gaius are waiting for their turn to race. Arthur is telling the others he has almost finished his poem about winning.
Arthur: I've almost finished my poem about winning.
Sweezus: Spit it out then.
Gaius: Yes, let's hear it, young Arthur.
Arthur (clearing his throat): VICTOIRE. That's the title.
Gaius: Very good.
Arthur: Ahem! ....The probationary legs and nose of a reddish-brown dog snap at the rainbow wheels and we who were kings melt into twisted grey balls of razor wire suffering the sweet redness of pain. We reassemble ourselves biting at the dispensible dog, spitting him into green gobbets at the side of the road..... What do you think?
Sweezus: Awesome! I like the bits about the dog.
Gaius: Probationary legs?
Arthur: Good isn't it.
Gaius: I may be old-fashioned....
Sweezus: It reminds me of Farky.
Arthur: Who's Farky?
Sweezus: A dog. Friend of mine. He was our team mate. Anyway, he had difficulty riding a bike, and had to have multiple knee reconstructions.
Arthur: Multiple knee reconstructions? I need to meet Farky.
Sweezus: Come back with us after the Tour. You can meet Farky, and I'll teach you to surf. You can come with me to my creative writing classes too if you want.
Gaius: That's a good idea.
Arthur: Phutt!! But I'd like to meet Farky. I'll come.
Sweezus: Cool! Hey, it's us next and I'm on first! I feel lucky! Just watch me beat Bradley Wiggins!
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