The next day was Stage One, from Liège to Seraing. Arthur Rimbaud now has two bandaged knees. Team Philosophe is riding in the middle of the main peloton.
Arthur Rimbaud: Oooh! Aaaah!
Sweezus: What's up, Arthur?
Arthur Rimbaud: Oh the bitter redness of.... uh.....the bitter redness...oooh!
Sweezus: Don't try and compose while you're riding, you idiot!
Arthur Rimbaud: Life is pointless otherwise, an atrocious fanfare, a burnt face, arms of crystal....uhh!
Gaius: What's the matter with him?
Sweezus: He's trying to ride through his pain by composing.
Arthur Rimbaud: No I'm not.
Gaius: What's happening then?
Arthur Rimbaud: Poetry is happening. But I need some drugs.
Gaius: No! They don't like drugs here. They don't even like extra strong mints.
Arthur Rimbaud: Drugs aid my creativity.
Sweezus: That's not creativity.
Arthur Rimbaud: What would you know?
Sweezus: I'm doing a creative writing course.
Arthur Rimbaud: Oh do tell!
Sweezus (offended): I came top of my class.
Gaius: We won't be coming top of this class! Pedal faster, boys! Team Liquigas is coming up behind us!
Arthur Rimbaud: Team Liquigas! Hee Hee!
He falls off his bike.
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