Stage 7 : Livarot to Fougères - Lucky

Terence is standing near the start point holding a crayon.

Farky-Om-Farky bounds up.

Go away, says Terence.

Where have I been? says Farky-Om-Farky.

Kidnapped, says Terence. And it was good.

It was excellent, says Farky-Om-Farky. I got a big bone.

Where is it? asks Terence.

I ate it, says Farky-Om-Farky. It was toothsome.

Farky grins, baring his teeth

Ha ha, says Terence.

What? says Farky.

Nothing, says Terence.

( And anyway, Farky should know if his own teeth are crooked).

Alberto Contador is riding to the start point with several other riders.

They speak idly of crashes.

Someone wobbles, and they all fall down.

Did you see that? says Terence.

No, says Farky-Om-Farky, still thinking of bones and their loveliness.

Luckily, no one is hurt.

........

The race begins, in Normandy.

Phil Liggett: And Chris Froome will not be wearing yellow today.

Paul Sherwen: Yes, he says he feels it wouldn't be right.

Phil Liggett: Poor Tony Martin.

Paul Sherwen: Out with a nasty broken collar bone. Not good news for Etixx-Quickstep.

Phil Liggett: And not good news for Mark Cavendish. Today's his last chance to win a stage.

Paul Sherwen; Indeed Phil. And it'll be so much harder without his team mate Tony Martin.

Phil Liggett: You never know. Mark Cavendish may be lucky.

Paul Sherwen: If he is, it won't be because of anything supernatural.

Phil Liggett: Enlighten us, Paul.

Paul Sherwen: I've been doing a little research of my own Phil. As you know, there have been rumours about a certain team's dog being .....

Phil Liggett: Kidnapped?

Paul Sherwen: Ahem. No not kidnapped. Being LUCKY. It turns out Phil, that he isn't lucky at all.

Phil Liggett: A lot of the teams seem to think so.

Paul Sherwen: He doesn't even claim to be lucky. He claims to be omniscient.

Phil Liggett: Wait a minute! Don't tell me YOU were the kidnapper, Paul?

Paul Sherwen: I just asked him a few pertinent questions. And I gave him a bone.

Phil Liggett: Well, well. So he wasn't entirely UNlucky. Now... here we are passing over a magnificent castle built in the middle ages by.....

........

Farky has a toothache.

All his new fillings are loose.

Several spectators (because he is famous) ask him who will win today's stage.

I can't say, says Farky.

Oh go on, says a particularly persistent spectator. Is it Chris Froome? Peter Sagan?

It might alter the outcome if I were to tell you, says Farky, gloomily.

(Note the proper use of the conditional).

How can it? asks the spectator. It's not as though you or I are near the finish.

The universe doesn't work like that, says Farky. Excuse me. I have toothache.

The spectator turns away at last, thinking Farky is a spoil sport.

But in fact, Farky is unsure.

His loose fillings are telling him....that it may..... be Mark Cavendish.

But may is not will.

He will have to wait till the finish, like everyone else.

.....

And the winner is...Mark Cavendish!

Who would not call that lucky.