THE TRUTH ABOUT LANCE ARMSTRONG:
WHAT REALLY HAPPENED TO HIS BALLS
by Louis Sainte-Marie, investigative French sports guy

	Lance Armstrong addresses the media about his balls.

The International Sports community, reeling from newly publicized doping scandals, was bitch-slapped again today when new allegations were brought to light that Lance Armstrong faked his testicular cancer for his personal gain.

According to these allegations, Armstrong never actually had cancer. Instead, he removed his testicles by his own hand sometime in 1996 to rid his body of what he called "extraneous weight" in order to eliminate precious seconds from his time trials—times that have been ever-increasing with Armstrong's advancing age.

Here at Easy Midget we watch a lot of hospital-themed television shows and it's clear that removing your own scrotum would certainly reduce the effects of wind drag and improve your race. Clearly, in a sport where shaving your legs to eliminate friction and increase aerodynamics is prevalent, removing one's balls for maximum performance is not that hard to swallow for this cycling fan. But what is hard to understand is why he used cancer—a disease that plagues millions of unfortunate people around the world as the backdrop for his strange, hermaphroditic transformation.

An artist's rendition of what Lance Armstrong might look like with his testicles tacked to his hat.

Armstrong has conceded in recent press conferences that these allegations are in fact true, possibly to avoid any further public humiliation or because he's a world-class showman. He told Easy Midget in confidence that if the International Cycling Union, the group that governs U.S. cycling, disciplines him he'll happily offer to pin his testes to the outside of his hat saying, "I think that's fair... wearing my balls on my hat. I'd still be carrying the same weight as I was before and I would look proud."

On a condition of anonymity, a woman who has seen his balls up close when he was showing them off drunk at a bar told Easy Midget that "his junk wasn't removed surgically, that's for sure. I can tell you he used vice grips or perhaps something more medieval by the look of them, as if it were something he did without putting much thought into."

On the outside, Armstrong's cycling colleagues had been oblivious all along. "I did notice his voice undertook a deeper quality, but I attributed that to all those cigarettes he usually smokes before a race," a teammate informed us. Another said, "I was wondering why his spandex didn't look as snug as it used to."

Always an opportunist, Armstrong announced, "I admit the whole balding chemo thing was a bit over the top and I could have just pulled out my testicles in secret, but I really wanted to make a big deal out of it. I had reached my glass ceiling and I would never have gotten the US Postal Service gig I have today. Instead, I'd be riding for the Domino's Pizza Team and working part time bagging groceries. I mean, this is cycling, not football. You really don't need balls in this sport anyway. As a matter of fact, the French have accepted me as one of their own as soon as I removed my own balls."

Other cyclists we spoke to tend to be generally opposed to Armstrong's actions.

"You know what this means? This loser can now ride a woman's bike... the ones which for some reason don't have a bar going right across the top—that's a serious advantage. I don't know why it is an advantage, but I know I can't ride those kinds of bikes! Armstrong might as well grow some tits now and enter the woman's competition as far as I'm concerned," one cyclist told us.

Armstrong has already refuted this "tits idea" as it is plain to see that this would counteract any benefit he was trying to achieve when he removed his testes and create even more wind drag.

All those sappy commercials with R. Kelly's "I Believe I Can Fly" in the background, the tears of joy, and the seemingly triumphant victory over debilitation was all a painful ruse in order to remain cycling's Golden Boy. We say Armstrong owes his fans an apology and at least an opportunity to see what a grown man with no balls looks like— perhaps revealing them in a properly hyped pay-per-view event.