Monday, February 24, 2020

MIGUEL ANGEL Y PABLO

A gust of desert wind plucked a sensimilla from the magic weeds of Guadalajara that got caught in the beak of a Manila-bound galleon from Acapulco and exhaled by the sea breeze into the firebox of a train to San Jose where it transformed into the wild cane weeds of the hills, fodder for ruminants grazing in the riverbank, and the domesticated plants that feed a nation of rice eaters.

Thus was how Miguelito became El Padrino who built a conglomerate of plazas before an unwanted murder reduced everything into a squabble of warring family-owned enterprises. 


He should have been hanged like Mickey Mouse and the puppets in the dental engine where Bertong Langis have two teeth extracted. 


Meanwhile in Medellin, a gravestone thief, smuggler and kidnapper ventured into importing paste from Ecuador, Bolivia and Peru that was processed into nose powder for a greedy American market which built him a multi-billion business empire to whom The Neighborhood procured extra strong beer, the Past Masters their picture frames, and The Mistahs their butane stove for the samgyeopsal.  

Thus was how El Patron Pablito became notoriously rich and famous whose ambition disrupted 100 years of solitude and triggered the Bloque de Busqueda and Los Pepes to chase him through the red tiled roofs of Los Olivos where he surrendered his business to the Oficina de Envigado.    

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