I bought a bike. Then my dad bought a bike. Now he’s in the driveway, morphing the two bikes into one big best of bike. I keep imagining it is going to be like a Transformer. I’ll go out; it will look like a bike, and then, through an elaborate series of twists and turns, it will become a giant mechanical creature bent on destroying the Earth, or fighting crime, or whatever the hell the Transformers did. I didn’t ask my dad to morph the bikes. In fact, I’m still not sure why he bought the other bike at all, but it happened and maybe by the end of the day I’ll have a crime-fighting, Earth-destroying mode of transportation.
fine print
