The weatherbike was stolen last week.
It was parked, whistling cheerfully at passerby in its bright, yellow fashion. The weatherbike was always cheerful, even when it lost its handlebars and the brakes failed and the seat fell off.
Then, it was gone. Vanished without a trace, and probably repainted something ugly like purple.
To the people who took the weatherbike:
Its name is El Canario. It takes Honey Nut Chex in the morning, and whiskey at night. It prefers a gentle rubdown after workouts.
Thursday’s forecast: It also prefers its old owner. Give it back, jerks.