Harry Guakomoli was alive and a number of questions ran through Oslo's head. Did The Guak fake his death? Or is he back from the dead? Are we still friends?
The first thing The World's Smartest Cat did after The Guak left the apartment was tell Yo-Yo to take a hike. La cucharacha was no longer welcome in his apartment. In his building.
Yo-Yo begged Oslo to let her stay. She had nowhere to go. She had no money. All of her mierda was there. Oslo told her she could collect all of her shit the next day, but she needed to get the fuck out until then. So the lovely Latina, with just her purse and the clothes on her back, left with tears in her eyes.
That's the last time a bitch comes between me and the boss, Oslo thought to himself as he watched Yo-Yo step over the door our hero had knocked off its hinges less than an hour earlier. He was already missing her sweet sweet can.
The World's Smartest Cat was exhausted, but his brain was flooded with thoughts. About The Guak's return. About if things will ever be the same between hero and (former?) sidekick. About an uncertain future. Oslo needed sleep, but he wasn't going to get it naturally. So he popped sleeping pills. He had scored a bunch of them from one of those gangbanger bitches that guarded the building around the clock. Oslo bought them in case the dark thoughts in his head became too much for him to bear. Swallowing a bottle of them with an Ice 101 chaser would see that the thoughts came to an end.
Sleep finally came to Oslo. Better living through chemistry. But something stirred him. Someone coming up the stairs. Lots of someones. Oslo was groggy. He was finally able to open an eye, and he realized he wasn't alone in the bedroom. A half dozen of those Los Pollos Pocos fucks surrounded him. Guns drawn.
"What do you want?" a half-conscious Oslo mumbled.
"It's not what I want, cat," a woman's voice called out. "It's who I want."
The World's Smartest Cat looked toward the voice. Standing in the doorway between bedroom and living room was La Diabla, leader of Los Pollos Pocos. Her straight scarlet hair falling way past the shoulders of her black leather biker jacket and ending nearly at her waist. The jacket was unzipped and a tight black t-shirt revealed a hint of the toned abdomen underneath. Her torn faded jeans were tucked into a pair of dirty jackboots. Although only five and a half feet tall La Diabla seemed much taller. And she most definitely looked like she was not to be fucked with.
Oslo's mind briefly wandered to imagining La Diabla and Yo-Yo going at it, engaging in some sweaty steamy Sapphic sex, before coming to the conclusion that the time for such a fantasy was less than appropriate.
"Fuck," Oslo uttered as he stared at the most powerful and ruthless person in the barrio. And her killer rack.
"'Fuck' is right, cat," La Diabla stated coldly. "I was at home breaking in a new boy when I was interrupted with news that someone's been spotted. Someone long thought dead. And while Miguel can learn a valuable lesson by being naked and hogtied to a sawhorse in my basement for an hour or two, I was rather enjoying myself. I'm eager to get back to work. So, as you can guess, cat, I have little patience. Tell me where he is."
The return of The Guak had instilled in Oslo a sense of hope. To not live every day in a drunken pathetic stupor of depression. The World's Smartest Cat was no longer interested in dreaming of his own death. But he found himself in a real pickle; La Diabla and her crew could cause him serious harm, or worse, if she didn't like his answer. Yet Oslo refused to sell out his best and only friend. There was no fucking way he was going to rat him out to these dinks.
"Where who is, chief?" Oslo asked the woman.
La Diabla sighed.
"You claim to be the world's smartest cat, but I know you're not all that smart, cat. But even you're not this stupid. Your little slice of heaven in MY domain will become a living hell if you don't tell me where I can find The Guak."
"But, chief," said The World's Smartest Cat. "The Guak's been dead for six months."
La Diabla showed no emotion as she stared at the feline.
"I see you have decided to force my hand, cat" stated an expressionless La Diabla. "What's the name of the puta that's been living here?"
"Yo-Yo Ramirez," replied one of her gangbanger goons.
"Bring me Yo-Yo," said La Diabla. "It's been ages since I had my way with a woman. But feel free to have some fun first, boys. I don't mind damaged goods. And burn this building down. This is a sanctuary no more."
La Diabla turned around and with cool confidence to the apartment's exit.
"And kill the cat."
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