Donita’s words really took me by surprise. I just could not accept that my companera was also into all these caballo nonsense.

“Donita,” I said, “three months are almost up. Very soon they are going to deport us back to La Paz. Get our flat and all our possessions in order immediately. When they release me, we need to make sure we have everything with us.”

“Si,” replied Donita, solemnly, as she put down the phone that she was using to communicate with me via a glass window which separates inmates from visitors.

In my heart, mixed feelings were welling up. Indeed my companera was suddenly talking nonsense, just when I was getting really really fed up with hearing the very mention of the word “caballo” or anything to do with it. Would this mean losing her love for good? Santa Madre de Dios, I hoped not... well let’s just say it led to lots of complications thereafter.

Anyways. A few more days passed before they announced my release and deportation back to La Paz. Thank G-d, Donita had packed up all our belongings and we were ready to board a little sampan bound for our long-lost home. I was thankful to be going home – but more than that, I was eternally grateful to be finally leaving Francisco Perez and company behind. I was only too happy to have left that construction company, where I had to slog for nine and a half hours every day for five days each week, and being paid such a meagre salary of 5 quetzals an hour.

Somehow, though, I felt a little bored (the journey would take at least 12 hours), so out of curiosity, I felt the urge to ask Donita: “Tell me more about los caballos de Equestria, por favor?”

“Si,” said Donita, seemingly happy that she had the chance to tell me something she had been wanting to tell me for a long time now. “I realised that when I first mentioned that to you a few days ago when you were in prison, you didn’t seem very open to hearing... why now the change?”

“OK, allow me to explain,” said Donita. “Los caballos de Equestria are actually the least of anyone’s worries. Maybe it’s because you may not have seen any caballos like those before, and furthermore you’ve had bad experiences as a nino; but actually, los caballos de Equestria are actually quite nice if you think about it. The reason why our world is so lost in turmoil, in fact, is because of the fact that los caballos have not bothered to intervene much here. If you think about it, we do need their help in many ways. You could say that they are the keys to world peace. Our capital city is called La Paz, meaning peace. But have we had much peace since we became independent of Spain? I don’t think so. In fact, despite strong leadership today, many are still divided in our country, not to mention in other countries.

“Years ago in Equestria, two caballo princess sisters were divided similarly by opinions. They were the Princess Celestia and the Princess Luna. Unfortunately because they could not agree on many things, they ended up divided, with Princess Luna becoming, for a period of time, the evil Nightmare Moon. Equestria ended up in a state of civil war for many years. It took a young purple unicorn named Twilight Sparkle to change things around. She got five of her friends, all also caballos, and they confronted Nightmare Moon, who eventually became back to her original form, which is also who she is today – Princess Luna. Hence, ‘La Paz’ – the real peace – was eventually restored to Equestria.

“Let me ask you now, Alberto mio: Do you want our capital city, La Paz, to live up to its name?” Donita asked me as she concluded her story.

“You will then have to believe in the powers of los caballos de Equestria,” said Donita. “Peace will not come immediately, of course, but your faith in los caballos will move mountains, I assure you.”

“Indeed,” I said. “I believe,” I went on, hoping to get this caballo nonsense out of my mind once and for all – but not daring to verbally voice it out for fear that I might offend my woman, knowing also that that muchacho Huascar Leon was already having his eyes fixated on her.

Our sampan docked at the port in Santiago, Chile, whereafter a long train ride took us back to La Paz. When we arrived back at home, I realised that our city was again in turmoil – and it was so bad because it seemed that all the men who had no stable jobs, had to be called up for reservist duties again. I knew that because shortly after we had put all our stuff back into our flat, some officers came up to me. “Hey! You! Why haven’t you reported to the recruitment office?”

“Que pasa?! I’ll give you que pasa!” shouted a decurion, grabbing my hand and dragging me along. “Me! Decurion Jose de la Cruz!”

This decurion Jose, a young 22-year-old mestizo hailing from Dunedain in Colombia, was clearly a sadist, from the way he treated me. Within a few minutes, I was once again a soldier – and I did not even have time to say “adios” to my companera. I was very concerned. Would Donita have to suffer in my absence? Would Huascar Leon somehow try to abduct her again? Ah wells, I thought, perhaps her idea of using “world peace in the way of los caballos de Equestria” might help. So I tried to apply the principles of “Love, Kindness, and Tolerance” – as that caballo Princess had put it that night – even as I sat in this freezing cold recruitment office, clad in only my briefs.

Army life was terrible, as it always has been. I was given a Pes A, meaning that the officers had deemed me suitable for commando-style National Service. This only made it worse: the training was literally nothing more than six hours of sleep, and every day – including weekends and public holidays and our patron saint’s feast day – was all but drills, drills, and more drills. Under this decurion Jose, it was literally hell on earth. I was beginning to lose faith in los caballos; all of this trouble just HAD to happen to me after they came into my life – especially the fact that I returned to my homeland at just about the worst point in time.

“All right, amigos!” said decurion Jose, as he stepped into the recruitment room of the Bolivian People's Army's Officer Cadet School. “You all are BPA recruits now! Some of you are older, some of you are younger. Some of you are rich, some of you are poor. But regardless of your background, you are all Bolivianos, and you all are unemployed at present; and hence, you should feel privileged that we, your government, are giving you one of the best jobs in town – it is your duty to defend Bolivia against any form of terrorismo, including civil war! And so...”

His talking was literally in the same way that an old hag would nag at people, so much so that I was beginning to doze off – especially in this freezing room.

“Recruit Alberto!” shouted decurion Jose. “Repeat to me, what did I just say?”

“Senor, you were talking about civil war,” I said, “but our country’s already in a civil war and we don’t know what to do.”

“Very tired is it?” said decurion Jose, sarcastically. “I want you to stand up! STAND UP NOW!”

“And now, listen to me!” went on decurion Jose. I still felt very tired, and wanted to get this stupid thing over and done with, so I could not help but doze off again, only to wake to the sound of decurion Jose hitting me on the head.

“And now...” decurion Jose continued his long grandmother’s stories, and I dozed off again. Decurion Jose hit me so hard on my legs that I came wide awake, almost falling to the ground.

“Muy bien!” said decurion Jose. “I was going to give you office work today and postpone your drills to tomorrow! But because recruit Alberto is very tired, so we will be doing our drills today, and right away at that! Everybody out to the field now! GET MOVING!!”

In great reluctance, we all made our way out to the fields. Suddenly I realised that among the recruits in my platoon, there was a very familiar face – Huascar Leon. I knew this was going to be just as I’d predicted – hell on earth in every sense of the word. We lined up; I was fourth from the left, and Huascar Leon was third.

“All right! Fall in!” shouted decurion Jose. “Stand by! Dari kanan, LOMBOR!”

“I think you better change places with the guy on your left!” said decurion Jose, clearly exasperated. He switched my place with the recruit on my left hand side, so now I was standing fifth from left.

“Cuatro!” said the fourth recruit from left, formerly who had stood to my left and now was standing to my right.

Decurion Jose was not amused. “HOW COME THERE ARE TWO CUATROS?!” he screeched.

“OK! Switch places back again!” shouted decurion Jose. Within a few seconds, I was standing again fourth from left, next to Huascar Leon.

Decurion Jose was now extremely dissed. “Muy bien! Because Recruit Alberto cannot count properly!” he said. “So we will now do foot drills! Starting with dressing straightening! I will get my optione to demonstrate!”

Decurion Jose’s optione was his right-hand man, a short, bespectacled guy named Henrique, who came from the village of Estrela del Mar in Argentina. He marched forward and stood straight, and decurion Jose shouted. “Ke kanan, lu-RUS!”

“1-2-3-4-1!” shouted Henrique, raising his right arm and straightening it to the right.

“1-2-3-4-1!” we shouted, but because I was having a severe backache, I could not straighten my arm without accidentally hitting Huascar Leon’s neck. Huascar screamed. “Caramba! You hit me so hard for what, eh?!”

“Caramba! You all are supposed to put your hands on the shoulders, not on the necks, of your partners!” shouted decurion Jose. “One more time! Ke kanan, lu-RUS!”

“1-2-3-4-1!” we shouted, finally putting our right hands on our right-side-partners’ shoulders – but forgetting to straighten our backs.

“Mil million bombas! You all don’t know how to do your kanan lurus correctly is it?!” yelled decurion Jose. “You all could do it correctly before, and now? Oh! I know! Once again, it’s the handiwork of nuestro amigo Alberto! Because of that, I will make you all do sedia and senang diri! This is very easy, I assume you all know how to do this one correctly without any blemish!”

“Senor,” I pleaded, “por favor, can you please try to not always accuse me? I’ve had a hard enough life as it is...”

We all snapped back to normal position, hands behind our backs, feet shoulder width apart.

As I stood back into the standard position, the recruit to my left stepped on my foot very hard. I cried out in pain. “OWWW!”

“He stepped on my foot!” I explained, pointing to the recruit who had stepped on my foot earlier – by which time he had long removed his foot, as he smirked at me triumphantly: “Since when, amigo? My foot is here!”

“Recruit Alberto! So you want to play the fool, is it?” said decurion Jose. “Pumping position down!”

“Can you ask the floor to push me?” I asked, innocently – I had not done this for such a long time, and given the heavy labor I’d gone through in the Canaries, this was sure to be something beyond my physical ability, if not extremely difficult.

Petrified, I got on all fours and started pushing the floor. “Uno senor! Dos senor! Tres senor! Cuatro senor! Cinco senor! Seis senor! Siete senor! Ocho senor! Nueve senor! Dies senor! Permission to recover senor!”

“Recover!” ordered decurion Jose. I stood to my feet, my arms aching and trembling just from all that exercise.

“We’ll do the foot drill one more time!” ordered decurion Jose. “Sedi-A!”

And just as we stood back to the senang diri position again, Huascar Leon stepped on my right foot. I screamed. “OWWWW!!”

“Caramba! Don’t anyhow malign me!” cried Huascar. “My foot is here!” He had clearly removed his foot from my foot just in time for the decurion to not notice anything.

“You really have nothing better to do than to come here and make trouble for us, is it?!” screeched decurion Jose. “One more time and I will confine you to barracks!”

And this time, both Huascar as well as the nameless recruit to my left, stepped on both my feet – but I was quick to gauge that, and I grabbed both their feet to show to decurion Jose. “Caramba!” I cried. “I got them just in the nick of time! They WERE intending to step on my feet!”

Somehow, decurion Jose appeared to side with me for once. “Muy bien! The two of you! Pumping position down!” he said, addressing the two recruits to my either side. “And you,” he went on, pointing at Huascar, “count!”

“Basta! Por favor! You are calling me a push-up!” cried decurion Jose. “OK! That’s it! Recover, the two of you! Don’t know what sort of push-ups you are doing!”

Huascar and the other recruit got back onto their feet and into line. “Recruit Alberto, because of you again, other people get into trouble for nothing!” cried decurion Jose. “All right! Forget it! We’ll move on to the next drill, which ought to be also very easy – your left, right, and reverse faces! Left face is called kiri pusing! Right face is called kanan pusing! Reverse face is called belakang pusing! Am I clear on that?”

“Recruit Alberto! Why is it that everybody can do it properly and you can’t?” cried decurion Jose. I was a little surprised; what had I done wrong this time, apart from just being a little slow?

“Tell you what! I’ve shouted till I lost my voice. Recruit Alberto, come out; I’ll teach you how to shout!” said decurion Jose.

My face turning pink with embarrassment, I walked out from where I was. Huascar Leon gave me a smirk that told me something like, “Serves you right, amigo!”

“SEDIA!” yelled decurion Jose, raising his fist at me till I was so scared I almost passed out.

To my amazement, instead of standing straight, the rest of the platoon got into squatting position and mimicked the actions of a washerwoman washing the floor. Decurion Jose was not amused. “Recruit Alberto! I asked you to tell them to sedia! Why did you tell them to wash the floor?!” he cried. “All of you! Get up again!”

By some coincidence, the platoon were already standing straight. “Already sedia,” I said to decurion Jose.

“Mil bombas!” cried decurion Jose. “Chilli is one of our national spices that we eat on our tortillas! You might as well say ‘ke tortilla pusing’!”

Decurion Jose was not amused. “Caramba! Kanna is a kind of duck meat! Kanan is right face!” he cried. “Try this: Ke belakang pusing!”

“Mil million bombas! Belachan is a kind of spice!” cried decurion Jose, by now nearing boiling point. “Seriosamente, Recruit Alberto! Is your family so poor that you eat cocalero every day and don’t even remember what you learned in your BMT?!”

“I do, and I even have some improvisations, senor!” I said, as innocently as ever, trying my hardest not to blame those two caballos for getting me into such hot soup – the manslaughter in the Canaries, followed by my deportation back to La Paz at just about the worst time in history.

“Indeed!” said decurion Jose, looking sarcastic. “Please show us what pattern you’ve got!”

“Upside down face!” I explained. “And I got one more, even more original, if Senor will allow me!”

I took another deep breath. “Ke suka-suka pu-SING!” I shouted, triumphantly.

Decurion Jose was already hitting the boiling mark. “You dare to tell my men to suka-suka pusing!” he shouted. “Muy bien! Once again because of recruit Alberto! Our drills have clearly failed! I will punish the entire platoon by making you all march non-stop around the city walls! Everybody, FALL IN!”
All of us, very grudgingly, fell in line.

“Dari kiri, cepat, ja-LAN!” shouted decurion Jose, giving us the order to start marching.

Everywhere we go-oh! (Everywhere we go-oh!)
People want to know-oh! (People want to know-oh!)
Who we a-are! (Who we a-are!)
Where we come from! (Where we come from!)
So we tell them! (So we tell them!)
We are Bolivianos! (We are Bolivianos!)
Loco Bolivianos! (Loco Bolivianos!)
El hado propicio! (El hado propicio!)
Way lah way lah way lah way lah way lah way lah!
(Way lah way lah way lah way lah way lah way lah!)
Any sweat! (No sweat!)
Any sweat! (No sweat!)
Always ready! (Always here!)
Always ready! (Always here!)
Way lah way lah way lah way lah way lah way lah!
(Way lah way lah way lah way lah way lah way lah!)

We kept repeating that refrain as we marched from the field, out into the streets of La Paz, heading for the city gates. Halfway there, another nameless fellow recruit – whose voice somehow resembled mine – sang some new words, thereby distracting the rest of us:

Everywhere we go-oh! (Everywhere we go-oh!)
Senor picks his no-ose! (Senor picks his no-ose!)
Man, he eats it! (Man, he eats it!)
Like a new tortilla! (Like a new tortilla!)
Fresh with old tequila! (Fresh with old tequila!)

And that’s about as far as that recruit got – but I became the scapegoat again. Knowing that he was being made fun of, decurion Jose stopped the march, in a towering rage, and led us all back to the army camp.

“Once again! Because of recruit Alberto!” he cried, not knowing that the one responsible for that was not me this time. “I will punish everybody! Today, no meals for anyone! All of you, get back to your dormitories and rest!”

“You, recruit Alberto, stay behind here!” ordered decurion Jose. I was completely shaken out of my reverie. Decurion Jose led me to the barracks and pulled out a chair.

“For causing upstaging in my platoon, you will be confined to barracks for three days and three nights!” said decurion Jose. “You will stand on top of this chair! No sitting! No squatting! No resting! I’m off for now, but I will be back anytime to check on you!”

Spellbound, I simply obeyed the decurion’s orders and stood on top of the chair. I knew he was clearly bullying me.

My mind drifted back to the good times I’d had with Donita, long before I had found the apparently well-paying job in All Lee Enterprises, the construction company owned by Francisco Perez. My mind recalled how I shared all my weal and woe with Donita, including the top secret of my life which few others knew about: My papa. Even to me, my papa’s identity was still a mystery to this day. Mama had only told me that Papa had left the family when I was still young, and that he would return one day at Easter when we were at Mass. I had always believed Mama for that. And that too, was something I’d confided in with Donita. Even before I joined All Lee Enterprises, when I was working at the tequila bar downtown in La Paz, I might not have earned that much, but Donita and I had always been content with whatever we had.

And so with all that in my mind, I closed my eyes and sang softly in the darkness:

Here I am. Broken wings, quiet thoughts, unspoken dreams. 
Here I am. Alone again and I need her now to hold my hand.

  She's all, she's all I ever had. 
She's the air I breathe. 
She's all, she's all I ever had  .

It's the way she makes me feel.
 It's the only thing that's real. 
It's the way she understands.
 She's my lover, she's my friend. 
And when I look into her eyes it's the way I feel inside.
 Like the man I want to be. 
She's all I ever need.  

So much time, so much pain, but there's one thing that still remains.
 It’s the way she cared, the love we shared. 
And through it all she's always been there.  
She's all, she's all I ever had, in a world so cold, so empty. 

She's all, she's all I ever had.
  It's the way she makes me feel.
 It's the only thing that's real.
 It's the way she understands. 
She's my lover, she's my friend. 
And when I look into her eyes it's the way I feel inside.
 Like the man I want to be.
She's all I ever need.

As I was singing those very words, I noticed a very familiar sight outside the barracks main window. It was a sight I knew only too well. It was that caballo, the blue one with the multicoloured hair and wings. Was her name... er... Rainbow Dash, or something like that? I tried to recall. In any case, my mind was filled with mixed feelings. On one hand, I wanted to start accusing her and her purple unicorn friend for getting me into such trouble; but on the other, I needed urgent aid immediately. Which was the lesser of two evils for me in this aspect?

Anyways. Rainbow Dash flew into the barracks window. “Quick! Alberto! Come with me!” she whispered. “They’re going to kill you here if you’re not careful! You must flee!”

“That doesn’t matter!” said Rainbow Dash. “Just come with me quickly before they discover us!”

“Que pasa?” I was astounded at those very words. “Did I hear you right..?”

I hopped onto her back and she literally, effortlessly, flew out of the window. I was rather surprised that such a small caballo like her could do this to such a big and heavy man like me, completely without any apparent effort....

Rainbow Dash yanked me free from the strappado that bound me in the barracks. “Quick! Let’s go!” she whispered. “Not a minute to lose!”

Spellbound by the urgency in her voice, I hopped prostrate on her back, and she flew away with me. I was filled with mixed feelings as we took to the air; I certainly did not know whether to laugh or cry – after all, I was indeed rescued from pending plight; but why did it have to be one of them loco caballos to rescue me?

“MAMA! MAMA! There’s a loco caballo here who kicked me!” I screamed as I ran up to my mother. We were on holiday in the Andes mountains in Peru; I was 3 years old, and somehow I had curiously gone up to some loco caballo at its behind, not in the least sure as to the danger.

“Don’t cry, Albertito mio; Mama’s here,” said Mama as she held me tightly. “Mama will smack the loco caballo for daring to hit mi nino.”

But of course, the wound was so severe; it was in my behind, which needed an operation and a lot of stitches…

“And so, ninos,” said the teacher, “we’re going to write an essay on the topic of ‘My Papa’. What do you all know about your papa?”

Galvano stood up. “My papa is one of the best papas in the world,” he said. “A caballo once tried to kick me, but Papa took the blow for me; he had to go for an operation but he survived and is still very strong. He works for the Bolivian government. Viva Papa!”

I just could not help crying upon hearing what my classmate Galvano had just said, recalling my boyhood as a three-year-old when I’d been kicked in the behind by that loco caballo in the Andes.

Later that day when I got home, Mama saw that I was crying. “Alberto, como esta usted?”

“Come on, Alberto, you’re in tears,” said Mama. “Are you sure you’re ok?”

“Why does everyone in class have a papa, and not me?” I asked, persistently.

Mama took me to a sofa and sat down. “You’re still young, Alberto,” she said, looking grave. “Your Papa… er… left us when you were only a nino. He said he… had lots of work to do over in … the Canaries.”

“He said yes,” Mama said, drowsily but seemingly agitatedly. “Papa promised us that he will be back in Easter when you are 12 years old. Wait for him.”

My heart was somewhat more hopeful on hearing those words, but I was a little doubtful with regard to Mama’s hesitance in the way she spoke…

“Mama, it’s already Easter,” I said to Mama as we stepped out of the church. “Donde esta Papa?”

“Papa? What about him?” Mama asked me. I noticed she looked a little flustered.

“You promised me that Papa would be back at Easter this year?” I reminded her. “Where is he?”

Mama did not speak, but I could see by the look in her face that she was clearly about to cry big-time.

“Mama esta buena,” replied Mama, softly; but I knew that she didn’t seem very secure deep within. Mama took me aside and told me, softly but sternly: “Do not bring up your papa again, por favor. I do not know and I don’t want to know what has become of him. All I can say to you is that he has apparently not kept to his word. Just be a good boy and stay with Mama. Bueno?”

I did not ever bring up the subject of Papa again in Mama’s presence, however, deep within me, my heart yearned to look for Papa, even if it meant going all the way to the Canaries…

Your first project will be managing the renovation of a huge skyscraper in the Canaries.

Please report to the office at Las Palmas, Canary Islands, on Monday at 8am for orientation and an interview. A free air ticket, sponsored by us, has been enclosed with this letter.

We congratulate you on your successful application and look forward to working with you.

This was just amazing. They actually offered me a job – in the Canaries! I showed this letter to Donita lo Pescadoro, my fiancée whom I had known for a couple of weeks and with whom I was already beginning to go steady.

Indeed I was able to fix that; I used the last savings I had to purchase Donita another air ticket bound for the Canaries on the same plane as me…

“You don’t talk nonsense!” I shouted over the phone. “The king – so what! I know! King Juan Carlos V is your papa, is it?! Hola? HOLA?!” Click.

“Caramba! Some stupid policeman wanted to fine me for merely jaywalking!” I explained. “I had to pay up 100 pesos on the spot! So when I got home I called his boss, and the stupid muchacho kept on telling me: This is law! This is law! Mil bombas! I’m surprised that Santa Maria still preserves my life till today!”

I took a few deep breaths and sat down on my chair. We were in the flat that I’d been living in since I moved to the Canaries a month before.

“Para ti,” (for you) I said as I handed Donita some flowers. “Marry me?”

“We’ve known each other for only a few months, Alberto,” said Donita. “Why so fast?”

“Come with me,” I said. “I’ve gotta go to work. Senor Perez will be calling me soon. He said it’s something regarding my promotion to Senior Project Manager.”

We walked out of the flat and along the rough road, passing by some paddocks along the way. We sat down on a bench to continue our discussion.

“You seem a little troubled recently,” Donita pointed out. “Is it because of me?”

Of course it wasn’t; I and I alone knew that it was because of my papa. So I told her the truth.

“My papa left my family when I was young,” I said, standing up and beginning to pace up and down. “I have no idea why I had to be so unfortunate to be from a single-parent family. When I was 7, Mama promised me that Papa would return after Easter Mass 5 years later when I was 12 years old. But that day came and went and I still don’t know why, but Papa still hasn’t come back to us. I curse the day that I was born!” And so saying, I spat on the ground.

“Excuse me senor,” came a masculine voice from behind us. We turned and saw a short, unkemptly-dressed stranger.

“I’m a Spanish environment officer,” said the stranger, producing his credentials. “Just now I caught you spitting on the ground. It’s an offence. I need to book you for it. Can I have your I/C, por favor?”

“Caramba! Just today I got fined once!” I cried. “I spat? Because of the rubbish!” I pointed over to some rubbish not far off. “Look at that! The rubbish is so smelly! This is not my fault; it’s the king’s fault! He was supposed to get his men to clear away all this rubbish!”

“Basta!” shouted Donita. “Sorry, senor, can you give one more chance, por favor?” she asked the officer.

“What duty?!” I cried. “Oh! I know! Your king asked you to hide here and come and catch us right? Easy job!”

“Bueno! Aqui esta!” I cried, taking out my I/C and the remaining amount of Spanish pesos I had on me. “Every time I give it’s always 100 or 200 pesos! Now I know why your king is so damn rich. Your king must be a billionaire already! Now I know how to be a billionaire!”

The officer handed me back my I/C. I caught him by his hand. “Hola! Senor!” I said, “You so free, go and catch the terrorists; why come and catch me!”

“Let go my hand, por favor,” said the officer. “If not, I’ll call the police.”

“Let him go now!” ordered Donita. Knowing she meant business, I let go the officer’s hand.

“Sorry, senor, so sorry,” Donita apologised to the officer, who closed his book and walked away.

“Muy clever, si? So clever!” I said. “I’m off to work now!” And so I made my way to the workplace, in a towering rage.

“Buenas tardes, senor Garcia,” said my employees as I walked into the All Lee Construction head office.

“Mi tardes no buenas,” I replied, still angry after my having been booked for merely spitting – which was part of our Aymara culture back home whenever any of us wanted to express disgust.

Just then I noticed a new worker of Asian descent among them. “Buenas tardes, senor,” I said, in a polite tone. “You are…?”

“I’m Jeremiah Adolpher Lee,” said the new worker, clearly a Chinese-American, considering the way he spoke.

“Don’t worry,” I replied, in my bad English. “You’ll see just how good we are. Ali!” I called to one of our clerks, a gentleman of Arab descent. “Stand up and show Senor Jeremiah Lee your pattern!”

La cucaracha! La cucaracha!
Ya no puedo camminar!
Porque no tiene, porque la falta;
Marijuana par fumar!

Jeremiah applauded. “Wow man! Say, you guys got remarkable talent!” he said.

“Si,” I said, “And one more thing – you know how you landed this job here? Because your surname is Lee, and our company is called All Lee Construction; so most of our employees have the surname Lee.”

“Let me introduce you,” I said, introducing all our clerks by name to Jeremiah. “This one is Lee Sian Long, this one is Lee Sin Kok, this one is Lee Chee See…”

“Wait a minute, dude,” said Jeremiah, pointing to a nearby cleaner, an emigrant from Kolkata who was sweeping the floor. “I believe this guy’s surname isn’t Lee.”

“Senores,” announced Perez, “I am happy to announce the promotion of our newest Senior Project Manager…”

I was extremely disappointed at the fact that my position had been lost to that muchacho…

Of course, all those memories were too much for me to take. As I lay prostrate on Rainbow Dash’s back as she flew towards a small clearing in a forest in the mountains, I began to cry.

We landed in the clearing. Twilight Sparkle, the purple unicorn, was waiting us there.

“Do you know that you almost lost your life in that camp?” Twilight Sparkle said. “And had Dashie not rescued you, you’d have surely become as good as toast?”

“Alberto, do you know that we care about you here?” Twilight Sparkle went on. “Do you also know how many errors you’ve made in the last few weeks?”

“One, you attempted a murder on a supposed rival-in-love,” said Twilight Sparkle. “Do you know that he bore you no ill will?”

“No ill will? Si, bueno!” I replied scornfully. “Otherwise what else do you suppose he was trying to do with my woman?”

“Two, you were rude to your ex-boss,” said Twilight Sparkle. “You’d have had a chance to keep your job had you been a little apologetic and said a simple ‘sorry’ to him.”

“Three, you assaulted a colleague,” Twilight Sparkle continued her rant. “That ultimately led to your dismissal from that job.”

“We want to help you,” said Twilight Sparkle. “Do you know that your persistently angry attitude will get you nowhere in life? Do you know that you are forcing too much too quickly on one person too many?”

“Veramente? Seriously?” I was surprised; this was something I had perhaps never known before.

“Alberto, I’ll be honest,” said Twilight Sparkle, looking grave. “Dashie and I don’t exactly feel very comfortable with you, nevertheless, we still love you and we want to help you become a better person. We want to see you become a successful man in life. You’re only 33 and have a long life ahead of you. Furthermore you have a bride-to-be as it is. How will you live long and be successful in your career and love life if you continue getting so worked up and rushing yourself into gratification?”

“Muy bien, so what must I do?” I asked, out of curiosity more than anything else.

“Since you love Donita,” said Rainbow Dash, “go back to her and tell her you love her. And whatever you do, don’t ever let your emotions get a hold on you. Because, from what I can see here, things are sure to get more complicated with time, so if you want to get over the trouble faster, you really will have to hang in there.”

“And don’t forget,” said Twilight Sparkle, “the Princess is observing you from her palace.”

“Si,” was all I could say, but deep within me I felt… extremely uneasy. So these two caballos could actually have the guts to tell a hombre like me what to do, even in a time like this when all I wanted was to solve the mystery of my papa.

My Little Pony: Amor Esta Magica

by WarThunderBrony

Rainbow Dash rescues Alberto