I heard you, my Eagle readers, were concerned about my condition. Well, Euro Freddie is back! Yes, it was pretty dicey for a while there, quite harrowing as far as experiences beyond your control go... That is until I was kidnapped off the island of Majorca, by a pair of international corporate spies.
My captors made their move in the black of the night, when I was nabbed from my cell and escorted onto a small, awaiting, fishing boat. Not five-minutes on the water, and already I was undergoing debriefing operations. Even in their black face paint, these women were all business, and I was familiar with their routine... For these ladies had a lot of experience with Sachs. Yes, they were my old friends, Heidi & Elli. They soon admitted that their rescue mission was not completely altruistic, that they were basically instructed by SRAM headquarters to glean as much information about Dr. S’s product line for the up and coming millennium as possible. After I made some sketches of some fishing implements, they produced an infra-red cam-corder, and asked if I would pantomime some of the products in use. I then did my best impersonation of Lance Armstrong flogging a rod and reel. The women then proceeded to compliment me on my casting technique, and within the half-hour, we were nocturnal trolling off the boats stern, under the Mediterranean moonlight. As we pulled into the harbor at Barcelona, we discovered a mutual affinity for Antonio Gaudi architecture, and decided (before we parted company) to take an early dawn tour of the city. The air was morning fresh, as a few street merchants were busily setting up their market stalls, in anticipation of another beautiful day. And for a strange, brief moment, I found myself inexplicably free of any thought concerning the concept BICYCLE. Peace -Euro Freddie
