Road Cycling Puns

It's a vicious cycle.

A length of freeway walked into a bar, and yelled out "I'm the meanest bit of road west of the Pesos, nobody wanna mess with me!"

Then some duplicated overpass walked into the bar. "Anybody think they're tough enough to take on this piece of transit infrastructure? Well, are ya?"

Finally a stretch of dual carriageway walked into the bar. "This bad boy is badder than all you weaklings, whaddya gonna do about it!"

As they were all glaring at each other in a Mexican standoff, some bicycle laneway walked into the bar, threw a chair out of the way and kicked over a table. "I'm the roughest, toughest, meanest, baddest piece of asphalt there is! You're all soft snowflakes! Ain't anyone who has the guts to take me on!"

The first three roadways all immediately turned to the bar and started meekly sipping their drinks, trying to look inconspicuous. The bartender asked them "What's the matter, are you going to let him get away with that? Why don't you stand up to him?"

"We aren't going to mess with him", they replied, "He's a real cycle path".

The B-road starts bragging extensively about his status as a B-road. The bar staff and patrons aren't impressed.

Then, an A-road struts in. The A-road immediately starts criticising the B-road, whilst also bragging about his own status. The two get into a big argument, and the patrons are starting to get riled up.

Then, a motorway barges his way into the bar, and starts boasting that he is better than the A-road and B-road combined. The argument escalates, and some customers grab their belongings, preparing to leave.

And then, a solid white line walks into the bar.

The whole bar falls silent. The argument stops dead in its tracks, and the three roads immediately disperse, avoiding eye contact with the new customer.

The solid white line goes up to the bar, orders a drink, and consumes it slowly. The bar is still silent. As soon as he is finished, the solid white line turns and leaves the bar without a word. The three roads breathe a sigh of relief.

The barman is astounded. "What the hell was that about?!" he exclaims.

"We don't mess with him" mutters the motorway.

"Why not?"

"He's a cycle path".

After some talking they decide to go out on a date.

After a nice dinner the road for bikes invites the road for cars to his appartement.

They get upstairs, but instead of going to the bedroom, the road for bikes stabs en kills the road for cars cold-blooded.

Turns out, he was a real cycle path

My dad and I are halfway through a quick little Eurotrip, and we're stopped in Maribor for a couple of days so he can do some cycling. We're at dinner last night, and I ask our waitress for the check. My dad's face beams as he belts out a quick:

"No, Slovenian!"

We're on the road together for another week.