The girls, meanwhile, have got off to a quicker start. Lead by Helen, a Norfolk cyclist of some repute (admittedly some of it ill), they have made their way to the local park to put their sales pitch into action. This has, so far, involved spreading a layer of pins over the cyclepath through the park, "Of course it's a Sustrans path," says Helen, "So we don't really need to do this, but better safe than sorry."

Mildred, however, is a despairing voice of dissent who seems to be having trouble coming to terms with the moral implications of what they are doing. "But what if someone falls off and hurts themself?" Mildred is a librarian from Tunbridge Wells and rides a Brompton.

Charlie, a fixie-chick courier from London is quick to point out the pros of the plan, "We help them get up, and Margaret, if they're wearing lycra you can cop a feel." Mildred goes bright red, Helen beams, and both set to work quickly.

The boys have finally got moving. Or at least Brad and Michael have. "What we need here are team players. I'm a team player, but I can also work well under my own initiative which is also important for a team. So we need to be able to work as a team separately," Carl is talking to the mirror.

"Right Mikey boy, we need some hard graft here." Brad and Michael have positioned themselves outside the bike sheds of a large multinational corporation. Here there are upwards of 10 bikes parked after a successful bike to work scheme.

"I'd rather you didn't call me 'Mikey boy' you know."

"What?"

"I don't like being called 'Mikey boy'. It's just not very respectful and I have a degree you know."

"F*** you Mikey b..." Michael punches Brad.


.the boardroom

Suralon, flanked by two sock puppets, is watched by the two teams. "Absolute f***ing disaster! What were the boys like Margaret?". Suralon's lips move almost impercetibly as Margaret replies, "They were rather hopeless."

"And Nick, what about the girls?" The sock puppet gives its view plainly, "I'm sorry Suralon I didn't really notice, I kept falling off my bike for some reason." Helen can't look Nick in the eye.

"Right, let's look at the final tallies then. The boy's team, you managed to lose £2567.73 after a fight broke out in a bike shed damaged 6 bikes and Carl had to get his Rapha jersey dry-cleaned after getting some brake dust on it. Girls, well you made £5.42, but I understand Mildred can't be here tomorrow and has to appear in court on sexual harassment charges."

Everyone looks sheepishly down at the workbench. Carl catches his reflection in a pool of oil. "So Carl," he is broken from his reverie, "Who do you think is responsible for you team losing?"

.continued

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.the end