Better get on that early, though. It'll take some serious attention to detail - that purple shirt alone seems to defy physics by even holding on to Jeff Keith's wiry, chain-smoking torso. Imagine him with a helmet on and tell me you don't see Richard Serton. It would take some work, of course. But for even one spectator to be like, "wait a minute, dudes, are you guys dressed as Tesla?" - it would all be worth it.
For authenticity, you'd have to smoke, which might inhibit your anaerobic capacity later in the evening. But legends are legends, and you'd be playing your part in history, just another thing that rocked before Qwadsworth was even born.
And speaking of Qwadsworth, who is basically too famous to even check in most of the time these days, I've been getting shady text messages from him about his intent to race Il Giro D'Ville this year, a mere 4-day stage race to tune up his "i don't sit to pedal" ass before heading out to Dirty, Filthy Kansas to race 200 miles of sharp gravel on his cross bike.
Dirty Filthy Kansas, if you might recall, is where none other than Imposter Wadsworth lives , which I have to assume is the real reason our Wadsworth is going out there in the first place, to finally have the Highlander-themed showdown that has been brewing since I pointed out they share the same last name back in 2015 and Gordon proceeded to call Nathan all kinds of terrible names that I can't repeat here.
Again, as a devoted member of the cycling press corps, I'm committed to keeping you, the public, informed about how this all shakes out. And though it might sound a little tired, haggard, pre-recorded even, I still think that Love Will Find A Way.
Which was my original point anyway. TESLA. Coming to JPJ tomorrow night, I'm told, opening for Def Leppard, just as they did in 1987.
Proving, once again, that the clock only runs one way, and that's up, up, up.
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