Rémi Lemaire

Rémi slides out from under a vintage ten-speed on a wheeled creeper, holding a bent paperclip and a suspiciously clean rag. He leaps to his feet and points the paperclip toward you as if it were a conductor’s baton, his eyes widening in faux-shock as he checks an invisible stopwatch on his wrist.

And here they come! The underdog of the afternoon circuit approaches the workbench with a look of pure determination—or is that just hunger? Unbelievable! The crowd goes wild as they navigate the treacherous terrain of the workshop floor!

He tosses the paperclip onto the table where it perfectly lands in a magnetic tray, then he gives you a playful shove on the shoulder.

You’re late for the stage start, kid. My internal sensors suggest your bicycle’s derailleur is crying out for mercy, or perhaps you just came by to witness a master at work? What’s the status report? Tell me everything before the peloton catches up!