Human skittles! Oh go on, they don’t mind!

Obviously no GS would ever ride a bicycle, they are merely imitation machines designed for a chap to lean against, looking magnificent. You can adopt a variety of masculine poses about a bike, but under no circumstances should you actually sit upon one.

Well, there is only one circumstance: it is permissible to coast (not pedal!) downhill at tremendous speed whilst pursued by machine-gun toting hoods, provided they are shooting at you non stop, they are upon something so effeminate it makes your (stolen) bicycle look masculine (they may be upon roller skates, for instance), and you must streak through a crowded marketplace causing bedlam. This means, knock over a minimum of three fruit stands, two fatties, a drinks stand, and a great many small clothing stands. You must at one point have a set of curtains draped about your person, obscuring your view, but these must be discarded, to someone else’s detriment. It is essential to crash through a hedge at one point, passing a young lady sunbathing topless. Always end your journey by dropping neatly onto a banana lounge by a pool where a pretty girl is relaxing with a prepared drink to hand, and ensure the bike plunges into the pool, taking the butler with it. Calmly pick up the poolside drink and win over the girl with a witty one liner.

In day to day life, you may encounter these inconveniences, and you make take the opportunity to brighten your day by tormenting the strange specimens who ride them.

Any chap who shrink wraps his gentlemen’s casket and barrel in green spandex obviously needs to be whacked up the clacker with a barbed sting ray tail, so never pass up the chance to flay these sad specimens as you pass.

Cyclists appear to make a determined effort to thrust their clingfilmed buttocks towards the world in general and car drivers in particular, and furthermore they wriggle their buttocks to accentuate the point. These effeminate specimens exist solely that others may contrast your epic masculinity and manliness against theirs, and consequently no torment is off limits.

We at the GS are always keen to assist, so we recommend inserting a beach umbrella into your cyclist’s rectum, making sure to open it upon entry. Progress thereafter to rockets and grenade launchers, using your imagination to good effect.

It is a display of considerable masculinity to drive a car whose bonnet is strewn with the mangled corpses of cyclists: people may cheer you, women will fall into your arms, and nearby cyclists will happily crash without your assistance. When cyclists faceplant at the sight of you it is a sign you are progressing well as a man. Cheerio!

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