Stage three, let's hope things go well.
Arthur's knee is recovering.
(Arthur's knee: Oui! I am used to splitting open).
So we must believe it.
Gaiu's shoulder is doing less well.
(Gaius's shoulder: Euughhh!).
The bishops have offered their services to Team Philosophe.
Saint Arnoc: No one would know!
Gaius: It is wrong. That's all there is to it.
Vello: There's wrong and there's less wrong. Less wrong is called pragmatism.
David: You would think that.
Vello: Thank you, Saint Arnoc. Perhaps Gaius will reconsider your offer at the end of today.
Saint Arnoc: I predict many changes today.
Gaius: Yes, for the better.
The race starts. It is sunny. It rains.
Saint Arnoc has tried. He goes back to stand with Saint Ténénan, opposite a speed hump.
Geraint Thomas flies by.
Crash. Down goes Thomas, hurting his shoulder.
Again it is sunny. It rains.
Marcel stands near the finish, in Pontivy. He scratches his neck at the base of his wig. It is itchy.
He can't stand it any longer. He pulls off his blue curly wig.
Can I have it? asks Terence, who is the infant that was beside him yesterday, and is standing beside him today.
Terence has been waiting for this opportunity.
All right, says Marcel. But don't put it on! You should first wash it, because it may be that the cause of the itching I felt was, although I fail to see how it could be, since I soaked it for hours in a strong disinfectant...
He is going, eventually to say head lice, but never gets there.
Because a drama is unfolding.
Caleb Ewan and Peter Sagan are down!
Leaving Tim Merlier to win the stage for Team Alpecin-Fenix.
And Jasper Philipsen to come second, followed by Nacer Bouhanni.
What a day. Pogacar, Thomas, Roglic, Haig, Ewan, Sagan, Démare, all involved in crashes!
Changes.
Saint Arnoc, way back at the speed hump, looks wise.
No comments:
Post a Comment