Go inside your mind palace and picture your mountain bike. Got it? OK. Good. Now, try to picture your mountain bike without its suspension fork. Looks odd, doesn’t it? Looks, well, it doesn’t really look much like your mountain bike anymore does it? Well imagine a scenario where you discover your mountain bike is inexplicably missing its fork, at the exact same time you get a DVD in the post.
What’s on the DVD? What the hell’s on it? You say these questions out loud but then you remember you live alone. You’ve always lived alone. Just you, your mountain bike, and the call of the trails. You don’t need companionship. Never have, never will. Companionship is for the weak, the needy; life’s losers. Turning the mystery DVD over in your hands, you think about watching it but are scared of what you might see on there if you do.
“RIP suspension fork. U r wiv da angles now.”
After roughly 10 minutes of looking at the disc, you decide that it’s not going to insert itself into the DVD player and so tentatively make your move. A button is pressed. The disc-tray comes out, you gently place the disc down before sending the tray back from whence it came. There’s a brief moment when nothing happens and then it’s there. Up on your flatscreen. Footage of your fork clamped in a hydraulic press.
