Today is a hard mountain finish.
All the teams have their tactics, about which they keep quiet.
The teams ride out of Chatillon-sur-Chalaronne.
Okay, says Sweezus. I'm really going to go for it this time.
Okay, says Arthur.
Okay, says Ranger Roger.
Michel Kwiatkowski is passing.
Good luck with that! shouts Michel Kwietkowski, over his shoulder.
What the fuck? says Sweezus. Does he know something?
I'll go and ask him, says Ranger Roger.
He speeds up.
It's easy at this stage. Quite flat.
Do you know something? asks Ranger Roger.
If I did, I wouldn't tell you, says Kwietkowski.
You may as well, says Ranger Roger.
Yeah? says Kwietkowski. How come?
The only thing Sweezus is going for is the poetry competition, says Ranger Roger.
Ha! The famous poetry competition, laughs Kwietkowski.
You've heard of it? Ranger Roger is surprised.
Yeah, Richie Porte used to try and get into it, says Kwietkowski. He had this one about a potato. It wasn't that bad...
So anyway, says Ranger Roger, we're no threat. So do you know something?
It's just a rumour, says Kwietkowski. But some of the guys reckon if you see this kid with a hat on a stick standing at the side of the road you're destined to win it.
The whole Tour? says Ranger Roger.
The stage, says Kwietkowski. Thing is, I saw it. The infant-and-hat vision, they call it.
Cool, says Ranger Roger. No need to wish you good luck then.
Can't hurt, says Kwietkowski.
But Ranger Roger is not going to wish him good luck. He drops back.
What'd you find out? asks Sweezus.
He saw the infant-and-hat vision, says Ranger Roger. So he thinks he's a shoe-in.
What's the infant-and-hat? asks Sweezus.
Sounds like Terence, says Arthur. He's got a hat. I saw him twirling it round on a stick.
That means you're going to win the stage, says Ranger Roger.
I doubt it, says Arthur. You'd have to believe in it first.
Shit yeah, says Sweezus. But it's a cool theme for a poem.
They are now at the foot of the Grand Colombier, an hors categorie mountain.
They pedal up through the corkscrews and loops.
Sweezus is trying to come up with a good rhyme for infant-and-hat.
I'm riding to burst/ man, this is the worst/ but shit, what is that?/ an infant-and-hat/ if I didn't know who the kid is/ I'd be first to the finish.
Yeah he's happy with that.
But not as happy as Michel Kwietkowski, who has no idea who the kid is.
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