(Not Reel News: 2-2-09 Goobers Knob, KY)
“I haven’t rode my freaking bike outside since November and this stinking Groundhog must die,” exclaimed an irate cyclist with pent up frustration from the unusually cold and snowy Midwest winter. Immediately after the groundhog, appropriately named Sucksalottie Bill saw his shadow, signaling six more weeks of indoor cycling, the maniacal caped handlebar-moustache wearing Grand Poobah of Midwest Cyclists ritually raised the sacrificial hog over the heads of the 13 thousand cyclists gathered on Goobers Knob in Northern Kentucky and flung the cute and fuzzy poor defenseless creature into a burning pyre of old inner tubes, carbon fiber bike frames and tires. The crowd with their heads hung low then dispersed, reluctantly returning to the tobacco barn for another six weeks on the trainer.
This story is completely fictional. Duh. No cute and fuzzy ground hogs were flung into a pyre. But, cyclists are frustrated over the weather.