I Was Training for the Tour de France When Satan Accosted Me (1652 hits)
Category: SportsLabels: Miscellaneous
Rating: 1.96 on 24 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Jimbo (View user info) at 2004-01-23 08:29:30 EST
So there I was, cruising along the Rue de Singe in the village of Cramouille in southern France when, all of a sudden, the Devil appeared. Almost cartoonish in appearance, he wore red sandals and carried a pitchfork. He had an enticing proposition for me, it seemed.
"How would you like to win the Tour de France this year?" he asked, his voice like gravel on good china.
I replied in earnest, "Oh, would I ever! I'd almost sell my soul to beat that Lance Armstrong! Bastard Texan Motherfucker!"
"Watch your language, fuckball!" he shouted. "But we shall see about 'almost' selling your soul."
And he laid out the deal to me in simple hand gestures and complex contractual rhetoric. It seemed I was to win the Tour by the largest margin in history, and in exchange, the Dark One would receive my immortal soul and the new Fountains of Wayne CD. Seemed he couldn't get enough of their brand of Beatlesque pop rock.
He gushed, "I just love those guys. Their whole album is just so catchy, I always sing along to..."
"Jesus Christ, shut the fuck up about it!" I screamed hysterically.
When the race finally started, I was understandably excited. Within three weeks, I would be famous the world over as the greatest cyclist of all time. Right out of the gate, on the very first stage of the race, there was a gigantic train wreck of bicycles and human flesh. I alone escaped the disaster. It allowed me to compile a 3.5 minute lead on the first day. The next day, another crash took out the challengers who had made up some of their lost time. Ha ha! Another 4 minutes of advantage to me! Every time a rider would challenge, the Prince of Darkness would strike them down.
And so it went, until the night before the last stage, when I was reading a story in the local paper about the race. I had built up what seemed like an insurmountable, 106 minute lead, and yet the story was referring to me as "buffoonish", "talentless", "the luckiest cyclist who ever lived", and "a threat to decent people everywhere." I was not being portrayed as a great cyclist! I was just a goddamned clown who got lucky!
"Satan, get your red ass out here RIGHT NOW!!", I shouted to what I thought was an empty room, but was in reality full of turtlenecked Frenchmen smoking unfiltered cigarettes. I got a few stares.
*POOF*
"Yes, and how can I help you?" he inquired innocently, while tapping his foot along with "Mexican Wine" playing on his walkman.
"How can you help me?! Motherfucker, our deal was..." *SMACK* across the face.
"What did I tell you about your language?", he interupted menacingly.
Meekly, I continued, "Sorry. Our deal was that I would be remembered as the greatest cyclist..."
"No, our deal was that you would win by the largest margin in Tour history. Here's the contract right here, sucker." He smiled.
Oh, so that's the way he wanted to play it? I hurriedly thought up a plan. I mumbled my apologies with what I thought was the appropriate level of contriteness, Satan disappeared, and I went to bed, secure in my knowledge that I could outfox the Great Evil the next day.
The final stage of the Tour de France along the Champs-Elysées is largely ceremonial. That is to say, riders in the peloton generally do not challenge the leader. Not that day, motherfucker. When the race started, I just waited. Just sat there, with a huge goofy smile on my face. The next racer wouldn't be released from the gate for 106 minutes, but I didn't give a fuck. I wasn't gonna win that bastard.
Satan appeared.
"What are you doing?" He asked with panic in his voice.
"Throwing the race motherfu.... man."
He bellowed, "I will not allow it!!"
And for a while it looked like I was in serious trouble. When the closest challenger was allowed to start, the King of Corrupters struck him dead with a heart attack. Same with the next rider. And the next. And the next. Until there was a pile of bodies and bicycles at my feet, smelling like hot oil and athlete's foot.
"You see", he purred, "you will win by default. I can do this all day long. There is no turning back now."
"Not today, bitch. I own your ass!" I picked up a dead rider at my feet, slung him across my shoulders, and rode the 29 km to the finish line. When I got there, I threw the body over the line.
"Ha ha! I lose!" I was jubilant. "There is nothing in the Tour rules that says the rider has to be on his bike when they cross the line! And there's certainly nothing in there that says they have to be alive! A dead man won the Tour de France! You broke the deal!"
"Not so fast, my hairy friend. Read the contract. You deliberately threw the race. That eventuality is directly addressed in Provision 73 of the contract. Your soul belongs to me."
So there I was, burning on the Lake of Fire...
User Reviews
Submitted by Wisher (user info) at 2005-11-02 18:27:40 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
So there I was, cruising along the Rue de Singe in the village of Cramouille in southern France
**
Cramouille! haha!!
Submitted by Caulaincourt (user info) at 2004-07-21 13:38:37 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Envenom (user info) at 2004-07-19 11:13:15 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by jimbo (user info) at 2004-07-19 10:58:50 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Clearly this is a fiction piece. Lance has already made his deal with the Devil.
Submitted by andras (user info) at 2004-03-12 17:52:02 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
If satan looks like that, I would actually give him my spare change before realizing who it is.
Submitted by LaNa (user info) at 2004-01-26 00:53:33 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
hahahahahahaha!
fountains of wayne! hahahahahaha!
(translation - funny story.)
~LaNa :)
Submitted by Scott_James (user info) at 2004-01-25 19:11:20 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Superb.
Submitted by squattail (user info) at 2004-01-23 15:39:48 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
SUPER!!!!!!!!!1
Submitted by Wickedriser (user info) at 2004-01-23 15:27:03 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
"Ha ha! I lose!"
That's the two points right there.
-dan
Submitted by ktracy (user info) at 2004-01-23 15:04:40 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Slopster53 (user info) at 2004-01-23 13:08:12 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Grade A Stupidity.
Submitted by Phinch (user info) at 2004-01-23 12:40:37 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
HAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAA
Submitted by Falconer (user info) at 2004-01-23 11:45:44 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by jimbo (user info) at 2004-01-23 10:53:25 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
I raced mountain bikes a few times in college, but I haven't ridden hardcore in years.
Submitted by jonukah (user info) at 2004-01-23 10:48:26 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
That is one scary-looking Lance Armstrong fan
Submitted by Natophelia (user info) at 2004-01-23 10:42:17 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
haaahahahahahaaaa I'm going to print this out and keep it in my seat pack (little bag that hangs under the bike seat for you non-bikegeeks).
Do you ride, jimbo?
Submitted by WillZone (user info) at 2004-01-23 10:15:05 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
fuckbeans...i neglected to rate the last one...sorry.
Submitted by WillZone (user info) at 2004-01-23 09:55:50 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Satan would like Fountains of Wayne!!! hahaha
Submitted by loki (user info) at 2004-01-23 09:48:32 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I want some of whatever Jimbo is on.
Lance trains in my hometown, he is treated like a god round them parts.
Submitted by corn_nugget (user info) at 2004-01-23 09:43:28 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Jesus Ficking Christ
This posts makes up for all the shit posts I've had to wade through the past few weeks.
Submitted by seanfogy (user info) at 2004-01-23 08:47:04 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Was there some reason that you wrote this, or did you just come up with it? Tour de France? I'm just wondering because it just seems like a random, off the wall topic.
Good shit
Submitted by jimbo (user info) at 2004-01-23 08:45:53 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Found the picture online and concocted the story from there.
No, wait. What are you talking about? The story is TRUE! Not Uberized, either!
Submitted by Creepy_guy (user info) at 2004-01-23 08:39:26 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
He gushed, "I just love those guys. Their whole album is just so catchy, I always sing along to..."
"Jesus Christ, shut the fuck up about it!" I screamed hysterically.
________________________________________________
That made me laugh for a good two minutes... AWSOME post. I love this story. Comedic gold...
+1 for the terrific post.
+1 for the terrific picture.
Submitted by WillZone (user info) at 2004-01-23 08:36:56 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
how'd this story start? with the picture?