I’m riding home when suddenly two masked people jump out the bushes with tins in their hands and throw the contents at my bike. The thick, glutinous substance clings to my sinuously sculpted carbon fibre frame as I weave across the road in shock. Before my assailants disappear, I notice they are wearing ‘Just Stop Oil’ T-shirts, and that the red gloop on my frame is tomato soup.
When I get home there’s an envelope on the mat. I
