Post by Macho Jose on May 10, 2022 11:33:50 GMT -5
El Pene del Burro burst into his boss’ office without knocking and immediately threw the latest issue of “Wood, Wheels, Weapons, and Whiskey” on his desk. Jose, his devil-horned luchador mask pulled over his nose so that he could puff on a cigar, gave the magazine a casual glance. Seeing nothing of interest, he slowly turned his ice-cold gaze up to meet del Burro’s eyes but remained silent.
“You’re gonna want to read this, boss. Page 37.”
With a heavy sigh, the gang leader and drug kingpin slowly turned his attention back to the magazine on his desk and began to flip through the pages. He finally found page 37, only to see an article on the top ten types of wood to use when making bourbon barrels. Again, he peered up at El Pene del Burro through the eye holes of his mask.
“Sorry, boss. Maybe it was page 47?”
Jose stuck his cigar back between his teeth and turned a few more pages until he found the article in question.
“Madre de Dios…”
“Yeah, boss. And this is only chapter one. Who knows what that crazy gringo is gonna write about you…”
Macho Jose perused the printed words on the page, slowly shaking his head back and forth. Then, still remaining completely silent, he pulled the lit cigar from his teeth and pressed it against the picture of the article’s author. As the paper sizzled underneath the ashes, Jose finally began to speak.
“Put out the word; anyone in Sideshow who can bring me the head of Hacksaw C. Walker will be rewarded handsomely.”
“You got it, boss!”
El Pene del Burro spun around and headed for the door, but before he could make his exit, something forced him to pause. Slowly, he turned back toward the luchador-turned-cartel leader, and spoke hesitantly.
“Boss…I just gotta know…is any of that for real?”
Macho Jose leaned back in his chair, his eyes slowly leading from the magazine on his desk to his number one henchman.
“Sí. At least some of it.”
“Right. Well, some of the guys are gonna be talking. Maybe you could give me your side of things so I can set them straight.”
Jose hesitated before letting out another heavy sigh.
“The past, it brings up much pain. It’s not something I like to revisit.”
El Pene nodded his head as he took his hand off the doorknob and made his way back towards Jose’s desk. With a reassuring smile, he took a seat across from his boss.
“I understand. I’ve had my own hardships, boss. Sometimes it helps to get them out in the open. Mi abuela says I’m a good listener, for what it’s worth.”
Jose then leaned forward, resting his unmasked chin on his hands and his elbows on the desk.
“So, you want to hear my story?”
“Sí. I would like that very much.”
“Very well.”
Jose then paused to snap his fingers, and seconds later, one of his many girlfriends crawled out from under his desk and made her way out of the office without so much as an explanation.
“Oh…sorry, boss. I didn’t know mi abuela was here…”
“No worries. She is a good woman. Now then, when it comes to this nonsense that Walker has written, some of it is indeed true. I did walk halfway across the country from Juneau to Camp Skinatatanka, mostly to escape mi papi’s insistence that I follow him into the lucrative field of flamenco dancing. I was also trained in the ways of manliness by our current benefactor, The Illustrious Damien. Even the story of our friendship is mostly true.”
“Mostly?”
“Sí. By the time I arrived at camp, Hacksaw had already been beaten and humiliated by the other boys. He was sitting in a corner by himself, his face in his hands as he cried. In those days, I still had sympathy for the less fortunate, so I drew my switchblade and gave his attackers a taste of real street justice. It wasn’t until I’d stabbed a fourth boy that Damien intervened. Then, in that glorious moment between a man and boy, he asked a favor of me. Already seeing that I was more of a man than other boys my age, he asked me to take Hacksaw under my wing and protect him like a recently hatched duckling. Sensing the masculinity pouring out of Damien and realizing what he could teach me, I had no choice but to agree.”
“That is so kind of you, boss.”
“Hmph. Despite his timid nature, I took a liking to Hacksaw. Perhaps his innocence spoke to me just as the great Michael Jackson’s “Billie Jean” had spoken to me in my youngest days. Still, there were some positive aspects to Hacksaw’s personality. He had an eagerness to learn and his affinity for 80’s cinema had given him a familiarity with the music I enjoyed. Over the next four summers I would teach him much, but I would also learn…”
El Pene, completely enthralled by the story, hesitated before finally deciding to interrupt.
“I want to hear more, boss. Tell me all of it, but first, are you sure you want me to put out that hit? It seems like something so close to your heart should be handled…personally.”
The suggestion gave Macho Jose a reason to pause, as he considered it seriously.
“Perhaps you are right. It is likely that Hacksaw will meet his demise before I even have the chance to face him, but it is worth a try. Make the call to these people at Project: Honor’s Sideshow while I get our business in order. You will have to step up and handle the day-to-day operations in my absence of course.”
“Sí, mi amigo.”
“And El Pene…I’ll be needing my tights.”
“You’re gonna want to read this, boss. Page 37.”
With a heavy sigh, the gang leader and drug kingpin slowly turned his attention back to the magazine on his desk and began to flip through the pages. He finally found page 37, only to see an article on the top ten types of wood to use when making bourbon barrels. Again, he peered up at El Pene del Burro through the eye holes of his mask.
“Sorry, boss. Maybe it was page 47?”
Jose stuck his cigar back between his teeth and turned a few more pages until he found the article in question.
How I Became a Man: Chapter 1
“The Camp, The Counselor, and The Best Friend I’d Ever Have”
By Hacksaw C. Walker
“Yeah, boss. And this is only chapter one. Who knows what that crazy gringo is gonna write about you…”
Macho Jose perused the printed words on the page, slowly shaking his head back and forth. Then, still remaining completely silent, he pulled the lit cigar from his teeth and pressed it against the picture of the article’s author. As the paper sizzled underneath the ashes, Jose finally began to speak.
“Put out the word; anyone in Sideshow who can bring me the head of Hacksaw C. Walker will be rewarded handsomely.”
“You got it, boss!”
El Pene del Burro spun around and headed for the door, but before he could make his exit, something forced him to pause. Slowly, he turned back toward the luchador-turned-cartel leader, and spoke hesitantly.
“Boss…I just gotta know…is any of that for real?”
Macho Jose leaned back in his chair, his eyes slowly leading from the magazine on his desk to his number one henchman.
“Sí. At least some of it.”
“Right. Well, some of the guys are gonna be talking. Maybe you could give me your side of things so I can set them straight.”
Jose hesitated before letting out another heavy sigh.
“The past, it brings up much pain. It’s not something I like to revisit.”
El Pene nodded his head as he took his hand off the doorknob and made his way back towards Jose’s desk. With a reassuring smile, he took a seat across from his boss.
“I understand. I’ve had my own hardships, boss. Sometimes it helps to get them out in the open. Mi abuela says I’m a good listener, for what it’s worth.”
Jose then leaned forward, resting his unmasked chin on his hands and his elbows on the desk.
“So, you want to hear my story?”
“Sí. I would like that very much.”
“Very well.”
Jose then paused to snap his fingers, and seconds later, one of his many girlfriends crawled out from under his desk and made her way out of the office without so much as an explanation.
“Oh…sorry, boss. I didn’t know mi abuela was here…”
“No worries. She is a good woman. Now then, when it comes to this nonsense that Walker has written, some of it is indeed true. I did walk halfway across the country from Juneau to Camp Skinatatanka, mostly to escape mi papi’s insistence that I follow him into the lucrative field of flamenco dancing. I was also trained in the ways of manliness by our current benefactor, The Illustrious Damien. Even the story of our friendship is mostly true.”
“Mostly?”
“Sí. By the time I arrived at camp, Hacksaw had already been beaten and humiliated by the other boys. He was sitting in a corner by himself, his face in his hands as he cried. In those days, I still had sympathy for the less fortunate, so I drew my switchblade and gave his attackers a taste of real street justice. It wasn’t until I’d stabbed a fourth boy that Damien intervened. Then, in that glorious moment between a man and boy, he asked a favor of me. Already seeing that I was more of a man than other boys my age, he asked me to take Hacksaw under my wing and protect him like a recently hatched duckling. Sensing the masculinity pouring out of Damien and realizing what he could teach me, I had no choice but to agree.”
“That is so kind of you, boss.”
“Hmph. Despite his timid nature, I took a liking to Hacksaw. Perhaps his innocence spoke to me just as the great Michael Jackson’s “Billie Jean” had spoken to me in my youngest days. Still, there were some positive aspects to Hacksaw’s personality. He had an eagerness to learn and his affinity for 80’s cinema had given him a familiarity with the music I enjoyed. Over the next four summers I would teach him much, but I would also learn…”
El Pene, completely enthralled by the story, hesitated before finally deciding to interrupt.
“I want to hear more, boss. Tell me all of it, but first, are you sure you want me to put out that hit? It seems like something so close to your heart should be handled…personally.”
The suggestion gave Macho Jose a reason to pause, as he considered it seriously.
“Perhaps you are right. It is likely that Hacksaw will meet his demise before I even have the chance to face him, but it is worth a try. Make the call to these people at Project: Honor’s Sideshow while I get our business in order. You will have to step up and handle the day-to-day operations in my absence of course.”
“Sí, mi amigo.”
“And El Pene…I’ll be needing my tights.”