The spectral auburn apparition of the Swinton appeared at the cheese counter. One eye surveyed the selection in front. Tilda’s graceful hand reached out and emptied the entire plate of samples of oak-smoked cheddar into her handbag.
“these will do nicely until i metamorphose”, she uttered, before simply gliding out of the supermarket
everyone in the local pub heard the ghostly bicycle bell ring and set their pints down. Seconds later, the sideburned sports star burst into the pub on his bike and rode up to the bar where he did a sick wheelie.
“Can I have a pint of lager please mate?” he said to the bartender
the bartender was pleasantly surprised that an Olympic athlete had come in for a drink so, beaming, he poured one pint for Wiggo.
“that’ll be £3.30 then, mate”
Bradley Wiggins threw a bag containing exactly £3.30 in 1 and 2p coins at the bartender, laughed maniacally and zipped off on his bike in a cloud of dry ice
Thomas was at his laptop, browsing through something when he felt the familiar squeeze of a gold-gloved hand on his shoulder.
“what are you looking at, Thomas?”
“I’m just looking at social media, Guy-Man, we appear to be quite popular on fan fiction websites.”
“what’s this? people write stories about us?”
the silver-helmeted robot laughed quietly. “yes, apparently so, do you want to take a look?”
“I guess so, why not?” replied Guy-Man.
They scrolled through the page, scanning over the text in front of them. Question marks flashed up on both of their helmets.
“…why am I always the shorter one?” said the shorter robot.
“… why are we always eating baguettes? why don’t we ever eat anything else in these stories?” said his taller counterpart.
They scrolled further down and suddenly the fan fiction had taken a more erotic turn. Thomas’ helmet showed a scrolling marquee message saying WHAT THE FUCK. Guy-Man lit a cigarette and held it to the mouth of his smiley face helmet (because the members of Daft Punk literally wear their helmets all the time OK).
“Wow… no offense, Guy-Man, you’re cute as heck, but this has definitely taken a strange turn”
“Thomas who is writing adult fiction about us?”
They looked up the author’s IP address.
“NON! IT CANNOT BE!”
It was Skrillex all along!
Well… Teacher was the one everyone thought would win, but nobody even let him out of the peloton! Dennis the Menace won King of the Mountains but he didn’t even have a bike… he was riding on Gnasher’s back!
Things hotted up at the next stage, where Bananaman made half the cyclists slip and fall off their bikes. Here, Roger’s Dad was about to cross the finishing line when it began to rain ! Oh no! Roger had swapped his dad’s bike for an exact replica made from rice paper, and the soft edible bike crumpled. In the end, Billy Whizz raced to a controversial victory. After drug testing revealed nothing in his system he was free to zip about in the yellow jersey for the rest of his days
The sneakiest Beano character’s cute father woke up in the bath, feeling a bit achey and with lots of cool messages such as “DODGE ON” and “DODGE DAD” scrawled all over him in permanent marker. Teacher was lying face down on the sofa. He sat up and groaned.
“I am never doing tequila shots off Biffo the Bear ever again.”
Roger’s dad was not listening to the two dimensional educator, as he was busy uploading all the toilet selfies he’d taken to Beanobook, the Beano facebook
A hushed noise descended the house of commons. The MPs quietly dusted their sugary biscuit crumbs from their tweed jackets, the odd “golly gosh” whispered from teeth clamped around a pipe.
David Cameron’s Etonian eyes scanned the room.
everyone was silent
…
“Zayn Malik has the best hair in 1 Direction. It is LAW!”
David Tennant and the Queen ran through the room leaving a trail of marmite and Smythson stationery, while a swan got jolly drunk on ginger beer and pecked every MP who voted for Niall
