I had been left, chained to the railings outside a fish and chip shop in Hammersmith. Master must love me. The chain is very strong. There is no way I can escape from the heavy duty clasp. Master must think I’m special. I wait patiently, and see others arrive to be chained too. It’s a warm spring day, and though I would love to sprawl in the sun, my chain keeps me vertical. A kidnapper arrives, or is he a body snatcher? Someone who steals limbs and more, to sell to the Frankenstein of bicycles, who will then make the monster of all bikes. Yes a body-snatcher. A wheel-snatcher to be precise. The quick release wheel is released quickly. And the wheel-snatcher is off.
Master returns in the evening, looking foul tempered after a hard day dealing with the imbeciles that pass pass for his clients these days. Master drops his rucksack in dismay at seeing me, his trusty rusty bicycle rendered a mono-cycle. Expletives pour from his mouth, and then he notices something pinned to my make-shift mudguard that he so lovingly manufactured from duck tape and take-away containers. I hope he won’t abandon me, and take away my lock – leave me at the hands and spanners of any passing body snatcher. In truth, the thought of this chills me to the crank, for I know that the price he paid for me was less than the price of the lock, and now I am considreably less use than the lock. Not only can I not be riden, I am a pain to move. The lock is in good order, and quite portable.
But master reads the note. It tells a tale of a thief. Of public outrage at the daylight robbery of my wheel. It talks of heroes, members of the general public, giving chase to the villain, and of police and happy endings. My bacon is saved. Master perks up, and drags me to the police station. He locks me up outside, and returns with my missing wheel. I can tell he is happy, once he makes me whole again. I can tell by the hearty way he thrashes the living daylights out of my pedals on his way home, urging me to go faster. I can tell that his faith in humanity and the police has been restored by the vigilante’s act, and the arrest that followed. Master must love me. That’s why he abuses me so.