There is, in the grand panoply of other-worldly termini, a special place, I fervently hope and believe, for bicycle thieves. A place where they are forced to steal each others bikes, but bikes made flesh-peeling hot by the fires of the damnned. And where, though they must continually steal, no-one will purchase from them their purloined swag, so that every corner of their lives are choked with the heat and crush of them until some other hapless thief steals a frame or wheel.

Yeah. My bike was stolen.