The Odd Couple

The Odd Couple

The off-season had been long, the new F1 season seemed to never arrive… There were changes in the F1 regulations, changes in the cars. There was also changes in the driver line-ups.

There were also changes in the “Clip the Apex Presents…” blogs. As evidenced in the “Fernando Alonso’s Extraneous Adventures” blog…

--- --- --- ---​

Fernando tried to settle Perky into his new home but, being an excitable pig, this was not an easy thing to do. Normally Perky’s stomach was predictable, but ever since the move from Maranello Tower, Fernando had realised there was a problem.

“Perky, there really is no need to worry. Uncle Kimi is a very nice chap”; Fernando said in a reassuring tone.

“Oink…”; said Perky, sounding un-assured.

Trying not to look at the trail of pig excrement that led from the front door to Perky’s bed, Fernando smiled. “Look on the bright side”; he said. “There will be lots of ice-cream..!”

--- --- --- ---​

The front door to the Ferrari drivers' apartment opened and Kimi strolled in casually. He looked around, appreciating the décor.

“Like an up-market Ikea”; he thought.

Suddenly feeling the call of nature, Kimi turned and was about to make for the toilet when he noticed the trail of pig droppings across the apartment floor.

“I was having a shit, is my line, but this is not mine!”

In his pen across the apartment, Perky cowered nervously behind a cushion.

--- --- --- ---​

“And that is the operation completed. The patient’s wound is closed. You can finish off here now, nurse”.

Fernando strolled out of the operating theatre, removing his surgical mask and gloves.

“I wonder how Kimi is finding our apartment?”; he thought. “I hope he likes it. It’s good how Ferrari have us sharing. Team bonding is great...”

Close season was the time that Fernando could indulge in his second job, as an M.D.

--- --- --- ---​

On arriving home, Fernando noticed Kimi’s car in the car-park.

Hoping to enlist Kimi’s help in looking after Perky whilst he was away, Fernando entered the apartment to a scene of Chaos.

Furniture was upended and strewn across the floor. Perky’s drink bowl was up-turned, water splashed everywhere. A shitty foot print pattern marked the course taken by the protagonists of the destructive scene before him.

In the centre of the apartment was Kimi, normally pristine in appearance, but now hair ruffled and splayed on his back with a pig standing on his chest.

“Ah, I see you’ve met Perky”; said Fernando. “You don’t mind looking after him. Whilst I’m away. Between races. He’ll be no trouble.”

Kimi looked up at Fernando silently, with a wide eyed, unbelieving expression.

About to open his mouth, he was beaten to it.

“Good. I do like a team-mate that helps me out.”; said Fernando.

---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ----​
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The Odd Couple
The night race in Bahrain

As the sun went down, casting an orange glow over the circuit, a small pink pig scurried across the track. Pausing briefly in the middle of the tarmac, the little pig looked back almost hesitantly, as if searching for assurance. A muffled voice could just be heard coming from whence the pig came, but was quickly drowned out by the Muslim evening call to prayer, which rang out across the desert. The pig must have heard enough for reassurance though, as he continued quickly on his way across the track.

Reaching the far side of the track, which was the F1 paddock, the little pig quickly scampered in the direction of the Williams garage.

---- ---- ---- ----​

The Williams garage was dark and quiet. Nothing moved and not a sound could be heard. The little pig appeared through a small opening in a wall and quickly moved to the cover afforded by a nearby pile of tyres. The little pig took a moment to collect his thoughts.

Car 19 was the target, so it was car 19 which the pig sought.

---- ---- ---- ----​

Kimi relaxed in the Ferrari motorhome. Hearing about how a lot of the other drivers were dehydrating themselves on purpose to lose weight, he wondered if there was more that he could do to reduce the over-weight Ferrari.

“Maybe help file down some of the metalwork?”; he thought.

Kimi took another slurp from his ice-tea with extra cream.

“There’s gotta be something I can do”; he thought.

---- ---- ---- ----​

In the Williams garage, the little pig finished his ablutions.

“One always cleans oneself after… Well, after…”; he thought.

Turning to inspect the little pile of poo on the driver's seat of car 19, the little pig produced a business card.

On the card was a message pre-written by the pig’s owner.

Felipe, your (new) team-mate is still much faster than you. Do you understand?

From the Bahrain Knight.

The bottom of the card was embossed with the image of a Krill.

The little pig carefully inserted the business card in the pile of poo and then he quickly left the Williams garage.

---- ---- ---- ----​

As Fernando watched Perky slip carefully from the Williams garage, he smiled.

“Well done Perky”; he thought. “If Felipe still fears his team-mate, so much the better.”

Considering he hadn’t been one up till now, Fernando contemplated what threat his new team could bring him. And whether "The Bahrain Knight" would be needed... 8-)

---- ---- ---- ---- ----​
Perky could smell something. Something different.

The little pig trotted into the middle of the backyard and sniffed the air.

Oink?”; Perky thought, questioningly.

There was a scratching noise, just on the edge of hearing. In fact, if he was a human, the sound may not have been heard at all. But as a pig, Perky just about detected the faint noise.

Perky spied a hole in the yard‘s wall to the left and he scurried over to inspect it.

A strange smell kept Perky sniffing around the hole. It was only at the last moment that Perky felt something wrong, something alarming…

… There was nothing to tell that a pig had been in the yard but a moment before.

Now, the yard was completely still and empty.

--- --- ---

Kimi was annoyed.
Whatever is needed will be done, the new boss said.
Extremely focused, di Montezemolo said.

“Bollox”; Kimi said.

Despite there being a new boss (whatever had happened to the old one?), Kimi could not discern anything better in the car. And not only that, Kimi thought Fernando was shafting him by making things worse!

Now an American road division guy is in charge, you’ll see the difference;” Fernando had said.

What he’d failed to mention was that Marco Mattiacci would make the Ferrari a LEFT-Hand drive car!!

"Fernando may be coping better right now, but the pendulum will swing in my direction soon…"; thought Kimi.
After the disappointing start to the 2014 season, the Ferrari boys were making every effort to improve the teams’ performance.

Two weeks before the next race in Spain. Fernando and Kimi were hard at it on their living-room floor…

--- ---​

Kimi’s car exited the banked corner in the lead and sped away, only a slight over-steer slowing the car. Fernando, scenting an opportunity, slammed the accelerator trigger too hard, and the car shot off the banking and tumbled into the room’s corner.

Laughing, Kimi eased off his accelerator and tried to cruise a bit.

Fernando leapt up, retrieved his car and slotted it back onto the track. The car was soon up to speed. Fernando kept it smooth, keeping the car on the track, putting pressure on his opponent.

Kimi looked over his shoulder, realised there was no-one there as Fernando was sat a few feet away and lost concentration. He missed the chicane and his car tumbled off the track, smashing across the carpet and nestled into some cushions…

Fernando’s mini was now in the lead and he…

--- ---​

We will leave the Ferrari drivers there. They seem to have taken Martin Brundle’s words too literally and slightly ahead of time. But hey, they’re having a good time. Let the babies have their dummies, as it were.

Whilst Fernando and Kimi practice for Brundle’s Scalextric F1 racing, will the real Mercedes team move further ahead? And will Fernando realise that Perky is missing?

Perhaps the new Ferrari Team Principle can pull the Ferrari team back to it's senses...
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The night shrouded streets were blanketed in darkness. A fluky passing cloud blanking out any feeble moonlight that might otherwise have illuminated Casino Square. A passing policeman stumbled and cursed, before he continued on through the quietness.


At this god-awful hour, nothing moved in what is usually a hive of activity.

... Just when it seems we've missed the.. Wait, something moves; behind one of the boards which circle the green grass, one of the last remaining boards, yet to be removed.

A figure moves quickly from behind the board, flitting between the dim dark shadows cast by the trees and moves across the road, before alighting next to the casino.

Pausing, pressed up against the building, the figure can barely be seen.

Another Policeman walks into the square, whistling a nameless tune and then he's gone, whistling into the darkness...

This time it's the turn of the figure hiding in the square to curse.

Again, all is quiet. All clear.

Looking right and left, deciding it's all clear, the figure produces a spray-paint can from it's pocket and turns to the Casino wall.

The figure begins to spray.

Upon finishing, the figure caps the spray can and disappears into the night's darkness...

--- --- ---​

As dawn breaks on Casino Square in Monaco, the resident's are surprised by a "Banksy" style mural which had appeared overnight on the Casino wall.

A stencilled figure which looked like Luca di Montezemolo was standing over a bowed down figure, and written above them were the words "Kimi vade in domum tuam".

---- ---- ---- ----​

So, has "The Bahrain Knight" struck again!?

Maybe the words 'Lack of creativity stifling Ferrari' have again been taken too literally...

Unless it was Banksy..! :ermmm:
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As a weak draft of wind parted the clouds, revealing darkened shadows thrown by the foliage of some heather; a thin sliver of sunlight provided a brief relief to the gloom.

A beetle poked his head out from his hovel. His favourite hovel, as it happens, but complacency was not in his nature. He peeked his snout left and right. Nothing about...

As the laser-like shaft of light broke through the foliage, it blazed into the beetle's little eyes and rendered him momentarily blind.

As a sparrow swooped down from a tree branch above the beetle's life hung in the balance.

Just as the sparrow was about to close her little claws on the beetle, a sparrow hawk lunged in and sped off with her prize.

"That 'spadge' will make a tasty meal..."; thought the beetle, as he crept his way under some nice damp undergrowth.

--- --- ---​

The growing dawn light tried desperately to illuminate the gloomy curtained enshrouded room, but the curtain's were too heavy.

It was just emerald shaped bursts of light, hovering above the curtain rail, which afforded the room any semblance of light.

Casting a hasty eye over the scene, one could be forgiven for missing the human-body shaped mound which bulked over what appeared to be a twin bed.

Silence engulfed the room.

The human-body shaped mound on the bed shuffled, turning from the left-hand side of the bed to the right-hand side...

Almost uncannily, a laser-sharp shaft of light burst though one of the gaps above the curtain rail, reflected off the shiny housing of the room's lighting and lit up a word on the bed-side cabinet.

A word which was on a slip of paper. A slip of paper, yellowing at the corners.

--- --- ---​

The shaft of laser-sharp light was bright enough to rouse the human-shaped being on the bed, as human it was. The man was barely concious enough to wonder what the hell was going on..

.. The phone rang.

Blurry eyed, the man blinked.

"What time is it? Bast..."

The answer machine kicked in.

"Hello. We've been trying contact the home owner, as you definitely qualify for a new boiler. Not only that, but you also qualify for free solar panels and free wall insulation.

Just press ..."

The figure on the bed blinked.

".. 2.for a free quote and ..."

A thrown shoe, expertly aimed, cut the call off short...

--- --- ---​

After an epic journey, the little beetle inched his way up through the wall cavity, along the skirting edge of the room's carpet, avoided the inquisitive snout of a pink pig, assailed the bed-side cabinet and finally reached his goal.

Slowly, the beetle rolled up his prize (the slip of paper, yellowing at the corners) into a ball. After checking he wasn't being watched, the beetle carefully crept off, manoeuvring his prize as he went...

--- --- ---​

In the hotel near Silverstone, in the room marked "Fernando", the occupant awoke and discovered that a visitor had happened by whilst he was asleep.

On realising that something was missing, there was an almighty wail...

---- ---- ---- ----​

Perhaps that slip of paper, yellowing at the edges, meant something...? :thinking:
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The Ferrari Alchemists' kept their secrets as close as any decent, honest, god-fearing alchemist, but some more closer than others…

Al-Kimi Raikenshizenminster inspected the flask closely, as the Bunsen burner flame lapped the bottom like a lover’s kiss. The temperature must be consistent. Any burst or loss of heat could be catastrophic. Concentration was the key.

Al-Kimi looked at the thermometer and saw the level drop gradually and then begin to decrease at greater speed. Cursing, he turned up the Bunsen burner.

The temperature began to level out again.

Al-Kimi relaxed.

A small pink pig bumped up against Al-Kimi’s foot and oinked for attention.

Knowing the outcome of his current experiment was paramount, Al-Kimi could ill-afford any mishaps. Carefully keeping eye on the flask of simmering fluid, he bent down and lifted the little pig up to the level of his work bench.

Even though the little pig belonged to his greatest rival, Fernando Al-Fonzo, he who claimed the knowledge of turning lead-points into Burnie-Gold medals, Al-Kimi had a fondness for the little pig. He tickled the pig behind his ear.

“Perky, this is my greatest discovery! Once everyone sees the marvel of my solution, my F1 career is limitless!!”; said Al-Kimi.

Taking notice of this proclamation, the little pig squirmed in Al-Kimi’s arms and bounded directly into the Bunsen burner/flask assembly and sent it flying in all directions, sending a red mist into the atmosphere and through the window…

In dismay, Al-Kimi Raikenshizenminster saw his career nose-dive into oblivion.

--- --- ---​

As a rule, Fernando Al-Fonzo liked to keep his powder dry. Just because he thought his gaseous effluent smelt richer than any other driver, you wouldn’t catch Al-Fonzo giving away his secret easily.

Oh no!

As great as his career had been to date, Al-Fonzo knew that he wanted more success. The knowledge of turning lead-points into Burnie-Gold medals was all well and good, but Al-Fonzo wanted more! Fan adoration was one thing, but titles were the dog’s dubrey’s…

To that end, Al-Fonzo had set up his great rival, Al-Kimi Raikenshizenminster, for a great fall.

Al-Fonzo realised that two great Alchemists wouldn’t fit into a ... well, anything. So Al-Fonzo coerced Perky into helping him out…

Al-Fonzo sat by his Hotel window, not far from Silverstone, and he saw a red mist waft from the direction below. Al-Fonzo knew that Al-Kimi Raikenshizenminster resided in a room on the level below, and smiled smugly to himself…

I have two-year contract and now we see whom has the best solution is for everyone."; Al-Fonzo said.
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Fernando relaxed.

In his comfy chair, he could sense the well-being emanating from the Ferrari family.

Fernando reached over to the side table and grasped at his tumbler, which was filled with whiskey (definitely with an 'e' and definatly no ice).

Taking a slurp, Fernando relished the thought that Kimi was suffering. "Shame"; he thought.

--- ---​

"Must try harder Kimi": said Fernando. He reached down and lifted Perky up to his lap.

Scratching behind Perky's ear, Fernando picked up his cell-phone and pressed the button to connect to Mattiacci.

"Hello Marco! I have highlighted the strengths and weaknesses of the team."

Marco Mattiacci listened intently.

"It's not a weekend that is going to change for the worst, Saturday, or the best, second place, neither are going to change the way we want to go"; he said

"Hello Marco. This is me! Fernando! You don't need to say this bullshit! Kimi is crap! We need Bianchi - just make sure his wings are clipped."

"And make sure the correct team decisions' are taken!"; said Fernando, before he hung up.

Fernando relaxed into his comfy chair, slurped from his whiskey and scratched at Perky's ear...
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The lobby was stark. Simple, almost.

No, minimalistic.

Yes, that’s it, minimalistic.

But, the elevator..!

The lobby may have been minimalistic, but the design of the “Art Deco” metalwork of the elevator proved a counter-stroke. The ornate metal doors were silver-toned, but the surround was a dark reddish hue which seemed to make the doors more pronounced. The doors said FIA a thousand times. Especially as each door has a mosaic of letters’ reading FIA in such an elaborate fashion.

As he looked expectantly at the elevator doors, Fernando thought about the path that had led him to seek such an unforeseen encounter with the upper-echelons of the FIA…

--- --- ---​

Sebastian Vettel looked at his mirror. It was the special mirror which allowed people to see the past, present and futile. Normally you’d expect it to see the future, as well as the past and present, but buying a mirror which also saw the future was rare.

Seb had asked Adrian about it, but all he did was laugh! Especially when Seb had asked Adrian to design one…

All Sebby wanted, was to know when his winning streak would return. Apparently, the witch had said that only one was allowed in this time-line, and the one allowed had been given to an antipodean fellow. Of course, she couldn’t disclose the fellow’s identity.

Seb had cursed. “Webber would never allow him even just a simple peek…”; he thought.

--- --- ---​

Daniel Ricciardo smiled.

Careful not to look at the shiny reflection, the dazzling light bounced around the tiny room, until settling in an innocuous corner, sheltering, almost cowering from its own dazzling-ness.

Daniel was lost in thought for a moment, reminiscing about his early F1 “career”, before he snapped back to the present.

He stopped smiling and instantly the bright light vanished, no longer offering the dazzling light, which allowed Danny-boy the luxury of surveying his surroundings unhindered.

Looking fully at “The Mirror of the Future Foretold”, Daniel tried to focus and not smile. Easier said than done!

“So that is what the future holds for Seb!”; Daniel said. “This mirror must be worth trillions, in the right hands. Thankfully it’s not Bernie..”

--- --- ---​

Unaccustomed to such average surroundings, Bernie Ecclestone tried to sit as lightly as he could.

The merest thought of sitting on the FIA chair which had been presented for his “enthronement”, was almost too much to bear, but the thought of the alternative was beyond the pale.

If it wasn’t Fernando, I would not even be here… Maybe a bribe…”; thought Bernie.

--- --- ---​

Just then, there was a “ping”.

This had evidently come from the direction of the elevator.

Most unlike him, Bernie looked up expectantly, hoping salvation from bribery was imminent.

The ornate elevator door opened, and all that could be seen was shadowed light..

That was until a figure broke that light, and that figure was Fernando Alonso.

Fernando strode into the FIA lobby and said; “Bernie, we know we can do a much better job, as we haven't done a good one so far. We simply have to get on top of our problems and by me being here means we are succeeding to arrive at this level."”

Trying, and failing, to grin like Daniel Ricciardo, Bernie looked at Fernando and said; “Scheiße!“
The phone rang.


Click. The receiver was picked up.

"The Rosberg/Hamilton is not functioning as it should"; a strained voice echoed through the receiver, directly into the ear of the recipient.

The recipient relied; "Make the Rosberg part say this - 'I gathered that there was a bit of a mess in the media and so it wouldn't be useful for me to give another extra bit to that at the moment, it's better to let it all calm down' - and then make the Hamilton part contradict that whilst not looking at the Rosberg part. The Rosberg/Hamilton will soon begin to show serious malfunctionings.."

"It will be as you say, Mien Further. Err, I mean Mien Fernso"

Click. The connection was ended.

Fernando sat back in his reclining chair and Perky relaxed on his knee. Fernando resumed stroking Perky's short stubby hair, scratching him behind his left ear. Perky oinked in contentment.

"It will not be long before the Rosberg/Hamilton experiment begins to unravel. Only then will the true Mercedes monster be understood for the monster that it is!! Then, and only then will Fernando Alonso be heralded as the saviour of THE WORLD... of F1 entertainment.. But THE WORLD of F1 WILL BOW DOWN TO FERNANDO ALONSO!!!!!"

Perky looked up from his knee at Fernando's face adoringly and oinked.

"Perky, people think Mercedes are the dominate force, but they forget the double points! They're worth double! Come the final race we will rub the German muzzles in their shit! Then I will be the best! Three time WDC since the last one...Whose name I can't remember, but that's not important..."

Perky nodded, as if listening, but he then turned his attention to scratching his unmentionables...

--- --- --- ---​

And so Fernando's Ferrari dream of success continued...
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The problem at Ferrari was not Montezemelo leaving the team. It wasn’t the colour. It wasn’t even the car.

Well, OK it was the car, but for the sake of this story, it wasn’t…:whistle:

The problem was radio silence…

--- --- ---​

“Kimi, you’re doing great. We need these tyres to last till the next pit stop, so conserve the rear tyres…”; came over the radio from the pits.

“… Just let me drive..!”; was Kimi’s reply.

--- --- ---​

“Fernando, Kimi would like you to let him draft. Please slow down so he can catch up!”; the pit radio chirped.

“**** off! Let him look after his own race. I’m quicker than ‘im..”; Fernando retorted.

---- ---- ---- ----​

The problem at Ferrari, was that Ferrari realised radio silence couldn’t come quick enough…:ermmm:
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Fernando looked a changed man.

He'd awoken at some point with a bald chin, but realising it was the close season, nothing could stop him. With a concerted effort, a full beard sprung into being.

But that wasn't what had changed. (I think he may have had the beard for a while, but I just haven't been paying attention...) :unsure:

One thing that had changed was his car. Another was the colour. Not Fernando's colour. But the colour none the less. Only, being the close season, no-one could be sure what the colour had/would change to. So maybe that wasn't the change we should worry about.

I think before I confuse this situation even more, I shall leave it to Fernando himself to explain.

"It is good to now 'ave a team-mate. Everything is now clear... for the future.. I am very 'appy to be back at McLaren.

2007 is a dark smear on my leg-acy. Jenson is not.. er.. is very mature, unlike the team in 2007. (I think he meant more than he said).

At McLaren-'onda we are determinated.. kill Sarah Connor. Nothing can stop us. That is all...."

--- --- --- ---​

Should be an interesting 2015. Are we going to watch an exciting championship battle, or will the McLaren team self-terminate..? ed.

And who is the one that can stop it and is still alive?

Or is that a Ferrari thing and therefore we could no longer give a flying **** about... :dunno:

Too many questions with not enough.. .. er, whatsit... :cheers:
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