Well, we been through quite a few tough scrapes in our day, but this time I don’t know. I think our numbers have done come up. It looks like we’re trapped by some real tough hombres out there. I’m afraid we may never ride again.
You see up on that ridge? That’s Roadbike Rex, he’s been known to keep quite a few mountain bikers out of the cross country saddle.
And over there? Under that rock? That there is Careerface Carter. He don’t take kindly to nobody trying to squeeze in a ride when there’s work to be done, you know, of the paper shuffling sort.
Over here on our east flank is Ace Apathy. Shit, ol’ Ace, he don’t need no damn reason. He will just as soon shoot ya’ as watch you throw a leg over the saddle.
Right down there, blocking our getaway route is Humidity Harold, and being a big fella, he just likes to kind of drape hisself over your shoulders and drag you down.
Nope, it looks like our little wagontrain has done circled up for the last time.
It’s every man for himself now.
Juancho-lightin’ a shuck!