Harry Guakomoli had only been up for half an hour and was already heading out for some cerveza at the neighborhood bodega. The Guak lived on the outskirts of The City's barrio yet never learned a lick of Spanish.
"Joder Espanol," Oslo had always said.
Our hero strolled leisurely towards the bodega, passing the vivacious Yo-Yo Ramirez as she sat on her stoop strapping on roller skates. The Guak shot her a wink and flashed her a smile, his perfect set of pearly whites glistening as the sun's rays struck them. The lovely senorita waved and returned The Guak's grin with one of her own.
The Guak made it to the bodega and gave a manly nod to Pedro, Pablo, and Paco. He considered referring to them as "The Three Amigos" but thought better of it: it was too easy. He had come up with nothing else so he decided not to call them anything.
Pedro, Pablo, and Paco hung outside the bodega day after day praying some rich bitch would pull up in her Benz or Rolls and pay them for lawn maintenance, or better yet, sex. Those boys had such lofty goals.
Before stepping into the shop this yarn's protagonist looked down the alleyway that ran alongside it. Blood stained the walls and ground. The Guak recalled fondly how, just a few weeks prior, his crime-fighting partner, Tugboat Jones, and himself caused those stains by savagely wrecking most of the Los Fuegos Polos gang. The crew's leader, La Diabla, had offered The Guak some hanky panky in return for her freedom. He agreed but then reneged on the deal: The Guak doesn't negotiate with thugs. Even thugs with killer racks.
Harry Guakomoli chuckled as he remembered how he fooled La Diabla. What a dummy. Tugboat might have been gone, but the memories remained. Good times, good times. So lost in the past was our protagonist he didn't notice Chevy Cavalier careening out of control until it crashed into the bodega's storefront and crushed Pedro, Pablo, and Paco.
The noise jostled The Guak out of his pleasant reminiscence He looked over to the bodega, smoke pouring out of the smashed window.
"Shit! The beer!" The Guak roared as he charged towards the shop. On his way he springboarded off the body of Pedro (or it may have been Pablo; it was hard to tell with the large shard of glass embedded in the Mexican's face) and into the bodega.
Inside an inferno raged. Visibility was next to zero, the smoke was so intense. But The Guak knew exactly where the beer cooler was located. Having ventured to the bodega at least once a day every day ever since Senor Chavez stopped selling to Oslo after The World's Smartest Cat teabagged the proprietor's wife, our hero knew the store's layout like the back of his hand. The Guak blindly made his way to the cooler only to find the Cavalier had driven into it, pulverizing every bottle in the cases. Now The Guak was pissed.
Our hero fell to his knees, threw his hands into the air, and looked to the heavens. "Noooooooooooo!" The Guak screamed, his plans for the day clearly ruined. After getting that out of his system he noticed a man laying beside him choking. Blood poured out of a deep gash in his forehead and stained his mop of curly blond hair. The Guak knew every gringo brave enough to enter the bodega and this man was a complete unknown. He must be the driver of that shit box that had fucked up our hero's plans, and this asshole had some explaining to do.
Harry Guakomoli stood up and lifted the driver up by his neck and stared into his barely opened blue eyes. The Guak's strength was draining but locating the source of his rage had pumped enough energy in him to keep going.
"Why? WHY!?" our hero barked at the dying man. There was no answer from the man save for coughing.
The Guak needed to get out of there and fast. He was tempted to leave the driver to his fate in the conflagration; crossing The Guak was a mistake seldom made twice. But then a sharp pain tore through The Guak's brain. His conscience was messing with him. He sighed heavily before slinging the near comatose man over his shoulder and trudging through debris.
Safety was mere feet away. Our hero made it to the destroyed window and leapt to the outside. He landed on Paco's separated torso (or was it Pablo's?). The blood and exposed entrails made the torso quite slippery, sending The Guak and his dude-in-distress flying.
The Guak landed on his back hard. The adrenaline finally drained from his body, and he no longer had the strength to move.It was then that the car finally exploded and Chavez's Groceria was no more. Everything started going dark for The Guak.
Before losing consciousness our hero muttered "if that fucktard survives I'm gonna kill 'im."
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