After riding high for two decades, the company that makes the hulky bikes that devoted riders affectionately call Hogs is sputtering.
There are some wonderful verbal volleys, but at times the piety is so thick it casts a pall on the humor — like walking out of a funeral and straight into a backyard bounce house.
Does the disgruntled majordomo have nothing nice to say about this tyrannosaurus regina?
I'll have to take this shirt to the cleaners.
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