(BIOGRAFIA NON AUTORIZZATA)
CARPIRENTOLA
AND THE FBB CIAMP… CHIAM… CHAMPIҨNSC… SγP… ϩCHΐP… ҖHIP…
FIRST PUNTAT
One sac of years ago (quant
years with precision I don’t sacciow), in a little town chiamated Plate To
Signa, vived a very poverel young girl. The very poverel young girl was veeery
poverel, altriment she sareb rich, no? She posseded only 3 things: her name,
Agnes, her cognoname, Carpirentola, and one oldissim bike, so oldissim that
maybe it appartened to Aristotele (but I’m not sure apropos of this, I’m still
informanding).
She pedaled for the not famous
Plate to Signa Bikes & Cyclists and her compagns of team always piglied her
for the fondels because every race or allenment she arrived last, punctually
and inesorabily.
Ok, you potreb kieder: andow
was the problem?
The problem was that
Carpirentola had a secret dream, and the secret dreams are just appunt secrets
and so at ‘sto point the story finish here because nobody puot imagine what
dreams she dreams… It doesn’t do a pieg, just?
But… TA- DAAA! Surprise! I am
the unique person in the universe to sacciow the rest of the story… Yeah, I am
the narrator and I sacciow everything of everybody and what I don’t sacciow I
invent, without scrupols, tant nobody puot contraddir me. So, vist that in this
world nothing is gratis (and vist that I dev pay the affit), if pur you want to
sacciow the rest of the story you dev pay a little obol: my Running Count
number is 378Ȼ⅜Y+[2:(X4<z-∞)]:∏ⅎ∂+104, but I also
accept assegns, credit cards and…
Hey, where are you andand?! I
was… ehrrr… skerzing, of course [but not tant…]! Turn ‘ndietr, I will raccont
you the rest of the story aggratis, ok?
Well, what I was dicend? Ah,
yes… Carpirentola had a secret dream and the secret dream was to pedal with the
champions of ASD Veloclub Florence by Bike, one day (and, why not?, vist that
at the market of dreams c’estav the offert 2X1, to vince the FBB Championship,
too).
Passed one sac of time (quant
sac I don’t sacciow exactley, because my job is not to kronometr the time):
Carpirentola crebbed and divented a woman, she always was poverel, she always
pedaled for the Bikes & Cyclists of Plate to Signa, she always arrived
last, punctually and inesorabily, and her compagns of team always canzonaved
her… Insom, always the solit old things…
But…
A beautiful day, one of the
compagns of Carpirentola arrived at the domicile of the team with the face red
like a peperon, strapping his capells and urling: “The President is here! The
President is here! The president is here!”
“What mink are you dicend?”
Kiesed a second compagn of team.
“Are you hard of
comprendonium?! The FBB President is here! The carrozzon of X Pedalator is in
town! They are cerkhand for a new talent! Only one!”
“But davver? X Pedalator is in
town?!!” Urled a 3° compaign just a little moment before svening for the
emotions.
“Yes! The FBB President in
person wants a new talent for his team, the…”
“… ASD Veloclub Florence by
Bike!” Risposed all compagns in chorus urling and running in every direction,
like impazzed.
Carpirentola ascolted all the
conversation and then with a phil of voice kiesed: “Puot me venir with you?”
“You?!”
“Ehhh!”
“Are you skerzing?! Nooo, you
are poverel and you have a very oldissim bike… And then you are not fort like
me or the rest of compaigns, com do you imagine to vince X Pedalator, eh?!”
So, they andared away lasciand
Carpirentola sol solett. But not sol solett at all… In fact in the corner of
the room, arrivated from who sacciow where, now c’estav a curious tiz, half man
and half… half Gandalf, I’d dir. He had long and white and lisc capells and
barb and stringeved a long magic bakket with a star on the top in his right man
and 1 succulent strudel in the other man.
Very casualment I have a pic
of him pregusting the strudel.
“Who are you?” Kiesed
Carpirentola with tant surprise in the voice.
“I am the protector of poverel
cyclists…” Risposed the tiz addenting the strudel voracely. “Hmmm, what a
squisitez! Gnam!”
Carpirentola guarded at him
without sapering very well what to dir.
So he sospired in Italian,
because he WAS of Italian origin, asciughing the front with a phazzolet: “Qui
dentro fa cardo…”
Carpirentola
phraintended: “Vincenzo De Carlo? Uhm… No, ever sentited…”
Dissed stringending herself in the spalls. And aggiunsed: “Band at the cianc:
you arrived just at phagiuol… I want to vince X Pedalator, puot you aiut me?”
“But cert! I am here just for
that! Only one thing: my real name is An…” …dyfoxes, all attaccheted,he
avreb voluted to dir, but Carpirentola interrupted him, at the colm of
excitation.
“Yuppyyy! That’s all right!
Let apparir one sac of money, please!”
“What?!”
“Money. One sac, please”
“Ehhhr… money?” Kiesed the
protector continuing to addent strudel in big boccons.
“Yes, money! Gold monets,
banconots, credit cards if you prefer…”
“No money, sorry. I am only…
gnam… an umil… sluuurp… protector! Chomp!”
“Mhmmm… Let apparir a mega
accesoried bike, then! Ultra light, super speed and with carbon ruots high
profile of almen 25 cm, I recommend, Vincenzo De Carlo!”
“No…
sbaff… I don’t puot!… mhmmm, veeery delicious… And my name is An…” …dyfoxes-
all- attaccheted…
“Don’t you puot?! What a razz
of genius are you?!”
“Genius? Have you strofined a
lampad, for case? Mhmmm che bonooo!”
“In effect… no. Excuse a domand, Vincenzo De Carlo… Well, com do you
vorreb to aiut me?”
Andyf… ehm… Vincenzo De Carlo
butted down the last boccon of strudel, lekked the palm of the man, ciuccied
the dits and… sogghigned.
SECOND PUNTAT
“Are you sicur that…? Ahiii!!!” Carpirentola
urled with dolor, skatting at the stess time on the pedals up for the ripid
salit. “…that this is the best way to use the magic bakket?!!”
In effect, Vincenzo De Carlo
was not sicur at 100%... He posseded the bakket since 1566 (or down of there,
he didn’t ricordaved well) when Maga Magò anded in pension and regaled it to
him. Unfortunately, she dimenticated to lasciar the phogliet of instructions
before parting to Nobody- Sacciow- Where, and so…
“Of course!” He finally
risposed addenting the 9° strudel of that day.
He seguived Carpirentola driving
a very old and skassed Piaggio Hello (at the Hello was attaccheted a carrel
full zepp of strudels) and of tant in tant skudisciaved her kiapps with the
magic bakket…
“Remember me the program of
allenment…” Dissed Carpirentola skalanding the 39% pendent salit at 41 km/h.
She had just a philin of fiathone, but just a little.
“Ok…
mhmmm… bono sto strudel… Gnam… but don’t you rallent!” SSKKIIAAPP!!!
“Ahiiiooohhh!!!”
“So… today you are skalanding
(in rapid succession): Castra, Pinone, Consuma, Muraglione, Futa, Colla and
Castra again… gnam… slurp… Doman, you are skalanding Mortirolo, Gavia, Stelvio,
Campolongo, Giau, Pordoi, Sella, Wall of Sormano and… Castra (just for
dephaticament)… Sbarf… Chomp… Sgosh… After doman … Gurp… you are skalanding
only Everest, K2 and Kilimangiaro… After after doman you…”
“But… maybe it’s a little
tantin, or not?”
“Nooo… This allenment is
studied appost for you by famous Ricercatori Pampers (Nascono, Crescono,
Vincono X Pedalator)… BURP!
Mhmmm… Mo’ me magno il 10°, eh!”
“Ah,
Ricercatori Pampers?! Wowww!”
“Hey, are you rallenting?”
“Me?
No, Vincenzo De Carlo, nooo!”
“And invec yes! And my real
name is…” SSKKIIAAPPP!!! (Nobody comprehesed the name).
Carpirentola had the cap more
dur than the asphalt: she voleved to vince X Pedalator and nothing poteved stop
her. So, (imbotted the shorts with gum plume) she allened hard, but very hard,
so hard that more hard was impossible.
The 11° day (after 22.662 km
up and down for the world and 1.777 strudels) the protector dissed: “You are…
Mhmmmsssluuurp… pront!”
“Ohhh, it was the hour!”
“But you can’t andar so
vestited… and this oldissim bike… No no no…” Dissed the protector skuoting the
cap. So, he solennely alzed the magic bakket and parled in a strange language
(Italian, Carpirentola imagined, and contemporanment pensed: the magic is
arriving, finally…)
Carpirentola trattened the
fiath, full of joy & trepidation.
Passed 1 minute: Carpirentola
continued trattening fiath but just with a zinzinin of joy & trepidation in
less.
Passed 6 minutes: nothing
successed but Carpirentola continued trattening fiath (joy & trepidation
svanished away and she was diventing red in face with a preoccupant sphumatur
of blu).
Passed 22 minutes:
Carpirentola sbadiglied and sedetted down, delused.
Passed 1 hour and 8 minutes:
Carpirentola addormented and ronfed with gust.
Passed 1 hour and 44 minutes:
the furgon stopped and the man with a berrett scesed down.
“Who is ‘sto here?”
Carpirentola kiesed, sbadigling but also improvvisly sveglied.
“He is the factorin of UPS. I
called him by my star- bakket- with- aifon- app- incorporated!”
The factorin downloaded 3 big
scatolons from the furgon, kiesed who Carpirentola was and calculated: “1 Mega
Carbon Red-Like-Ferrari Bike with platinum pedals and spazial brakes + 1 Ultra
Aerodinamic Helmet in lunar crystal + Super Computer at Nuclear Energy + 1
Completed equipagment to survive in Groellandia + 1 Super Elastic &
Adherent & Sexy Bike Completin for Women + 1 of This + 1 of That + Another
1 of This + The Perforant Maglio of Jeeg Robot of Steel + one sac of other
things + 1 big bancal of strudels… The total is 16.721 euros, please!”
“But… com sareb to dir!”
Esclamed Carpirentola, shocked.
The protector sussurred with
suadent voice: “You abbisogn of all this rob, my dear…” and pensed and
I abbisogn of strudel… mhmmm…
So, Carpirentola firmed
cambials for 21 years and divented more poverel than she was only one minute
before.
Carpirentola vested the Super
Elastic & Adherent & Sexy Bike Completin for Women, allaccied the
helmet under the ment, cariched the equipagment to survive in Groellandia on
the spalls, indossed the Perforant Maglio of Jeeg Robot of Steel, assagged 1
strudel for gentil concession of the protector (but just 1 little morsin) and
finally jumped on the Red-Like-Ferrari Bike. The Nuclear Energy Computer
automatically accesed and 1.000 or maybe 1.000.000 of coloured lights illumined
Carpirentola. If qualkedun was in the paraggs avreb esclamed “WOWWW!” and sareb
rimasted without fiath and with the mandibol spalanked… but in the paraggs
c’estav only the protector and the protector was impegned finishing his strudel
and so he only sentenzied: “You are pront to go! SLORSH! SLURP! SGNAM!”
“I go for davver?”
“Yes! Remember one last thing:
don’t turn ‘ndietr tard… Not tard more than 12:00 in point”
“Oh, and why?” Kiesed
Carpirentola preoccuped.
“Because at 12:00 finish the
nolegg of all this rob… The UPS factorin is arriving to port away all and if he
doesn’t trov the rob just impacchetted you will pay a very salat penal. You
don’t vuol to pay a very salat penal, just?”
“Absolutely no!”
“And so pedal!”
And Carpirentola pedaled.
Com Carpirentola vinced X
Pedalator sbaraglianding the folt concorrenz of her compagns of team and
milions of other cyclists is a very interessant story and maybe I will raccont,
one day or another. For the moment I puot dir that the FBB President vided her
pedaling on the salit of Castra and, in the general surprise, esclamed: “I want
her!”
When Auro Bulbarelli
intervisted him for The Chronicle of Sport and kiesed why her and not one
other, the President simply replied: “Because she has the X Pedalator!”.
Carpirentola firmed a sontuos
contract at life and now she is rich and very very fort. Now she lives in the
Big Town pedaling with the champions of her dreams… Who sacciow, maybe one day
she also will vince the FBB Ciamp… Chiam… ChampiҨȠsc… sciȹ… ¿chip… Ahhhrg! If it
succeeds she will be felix 2 times, garantided at lemon!
Vincenzo De Carlo, you kieded
me? Carpirentola cerkhed for him, chiamed him, prepared also a table full of
strudels to evocar him… but inutilmently. Vincenzo De Carlo disappeared in the
nothing with his magic bakket. Nobody sacciows where he is, but you puot stay
sicure of one thing: he is erranding in the world cerkhand for poverel cyclist
to aiut.
That’s all, folks!
THE
END
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