Rags-to-riches drama about how the Ponies of Equestria miraculously transform the life of a poor Bolivian Indian man.
Alberto Garcia is a 33-year-old Bolivian Aymara Indian worker who was abandoned by his father at an early age. A kick from a horse when on holiday made him equestrophobic since the tender age of three. He eventually grew up into a fine young man, but developed a horrible temper that caused him to not be able to hold on to a job for long. Things take a head after one night when Twilight Sparkle and Rainbow Dash fly into Alberto's dormitory during a short work-related stint in the Canary Islands, from that night on, Alberto's life changes forever...
You know that moment, where you do not expect something to happen, but it does? I'm Alberto. Alberto Garcia. Descendant of a Bolivian mother and .... I have never met my father. Having being kicked in the chest by a horse before. I've developed a deep fear of horses; equestrian phobia, you might call it. Long story short, I'm afraid of horses -- Until one particular day.
Now. Being a 'peon' of a major development company in the Canary Islands. I had signed a one-way trip to hell. My horrible master, Francisco Perez, thought it'd be a fanatical idea to put us on a crappy island the size of a quarter of a comma on the world map, surrounded by water. It was the same everyday: alarm clock, incompetent colleagues, tasteless tea. I do have a compañera, with me, who made my life a bit more bearable.
Cut to the chase, something that will forever influence my life as a brony. So... aquí vamos (let's go).
If I can remember. It was on a working day when Donita, my compañera, actually wanted to go on a day out with me after work. You know the bar opposite my place? No you don't. Anyways. Señor Perez told me that day -- a Friday -- that I had a lot of paperwork not done properly, and I had to redo every single document for him, because it would surely cost the company a loss of mil million pesetas if I didn't get the thing done by that night. What the hell.
So I stormed home, really really angry that I most likely would have to answer to Donita for this. By this time it was already eleven at night, I was touching up my documents when I swore I saw two silhouettes fly by my window. It did seem a little funny to me at first; but I chose to ignore that... until the moment when I heard a loud knock on my door.
"Que pasa!?" I yelled.
The knocking continued, and my frustration started building up in me. And finally, I yelled at the door: "COME IN!"
But no, it continued, this just cut it. It was the end of the line, amigo. I went ahead to open the door, and to my surprise, I might have locked it.
Out of embarrassment, I opened the door and said softly. "Que pa-…."
My words hung in mid-air. All I remembered was I saw a quadrupedal creature at my door. It had colorful hair and huge eyes, I couldn't remember what happened after that though. I do, after all, have a weak heart. Sincere apologies, amigo.
"Is... Is he okay?"
"Uh... Hello?"
"Um... I think we have a live one here..."
I remember waking up in my bed, with the same creature I saw at my doorway looking right down at me. As I could see better now: That same creature had a ferociously purple mane and eyes.
"You alright? I mean..."
"WHO... WHO?"
"Who am I? I'm Twilight Sparkle…"
"WHY ARE YOU HERE?"
At the same moment, the purple pony... *ahem* Twilight Sparkle, pointed a hoof at my Macintosh screen.
"Look what's on that screen?"
"YEAH, SO? I CAME ACROSS IT BY ACCIDENT. YOU MUST BE LOCO IN THE CABEZA!"
"Well CLEARLY, you don't respect Twilie, so, why do we want to respect you?" Another abomination piped up. I shot up. And there it is: it had a rainbow-colored mane and blue coat. Though this one had a pair of wings on its body.
"Of... Of course I do... I... I... Respect your..."
Next thing I knew. The purple creature's horn on its forehead started glowing. With that, I got an extreme spasm of pain all around my body. I tried to yell, but no sounds came out of my mouth. I cannot move either, then, by some kind of loco magico. The purple creature lifted my entire weight: 69kg of me. INTO THE AIR without ANY hesitation! And with an evil grin, the rainbow-maned creature winked at me with evil complexion.
Next thing I knew. I blacked out completely for the count. I don't have any earthly idea how they did it.
When I came to, the two evil creatures had brought me up to the roof access: I found myself on the 12th level. It overlooked the small makeshift town that me and my fellow comprendes are to be staying in. And one thing that caught my eye, was a GIGANTIC arc over my most hated master: Francisco Perez's office. But structurally, no damage was visible. The gigantic arc had gold and clouds stuck all over it. A bright rainbow shot out every few seconds.
My jaw hit the ground. I was shocked by how much insanity was going on in such a period of time. Two abominations? A gigantic weird thing? Completar una locura! estúpido! una estupidez!
Just as I snapped out of being dumbfounded, the purple one used the same weird magico on me again, the spasm of pain overcame me again, and, with remarkable skill, it turned to around to look at me. Her mane was now brighter than ever, her eyes glittering with malicious intent. She spoke in a sly accent after some time...
"We'll see you on the other side.. Comprende..."
It is one thing to be angry with someone, and yet another when that someone happens to be two weird horse-like creatures with powers completely beyond any form of human description. That is exactly how I felt as I stepped through the portal through which those two caballos took me. Considering the way they named themselves – Twilight Sparkle and Rainbow Dash – I was seriously rather surprised that they had never considered trying for the racecourse back in La Paz. But come to think of it, no racecourse would even want them – considering the fact that the entire audience, who go to the racecourse only to gamble, would be a little spooked out by the sight of two unusually-colored horses who know nothing except to cast magic spells in broad daylight.
So anyways. The minute I entered through the portal, somehow I felt very strange. I felt like I had no hands. I felt like I had to crawl on all fours. I felt like... well, even my favorite beef steaks did not taste nice to me anymore. Worst thing of all, I felt like an alien in a foreign world. Put it this way: What sort of land would have no roads, all grass, a few paddocks, apple trees scattered here, there, and everywhere, and a couple of unusual building-like structures popping out from the ground amidst all the greenery? No, there was something desperately very wrong here. I just knew it.
I thought, maybe I’ll just take it as it comes. So I just followed Twilight Sparkle and Rainbow Dash through this weird land of greenery.
“This is Equestria,” said Twilight Sparkle. “Welcome.”
Equestria. What a name for such a place. This was becoming more and more incredible. I could see lots of other horses around as I walked on with my two guides. I remember I saw a paddock of apple trees, with two horses inside: A beige cowgirl horse with a blonde mane and a 10-gallon hat, and a red stallion with a yellow mane and an apple tattoo. We walked on and then I thought I’d rest, so I sat down on what I thought was a purple stone resting in the middle of the grass. “OWWW!” I yelled, for something pricked me so hard in my arse that I leaped about ten feet into the air. “Mil bombas!” I cried as I landed on my feet again. “Caramba! You mean to tell me that the two of you ...?”
Twilight Sparkle pointed behind me. It was not a purple stone after all, it was a DRAGON. A baby dragon, yes, but still a dragon.
“Who is this new pony?” asked the dragon, curiously. “Don’t think I’ve seen him around these parts?”
“This is Alberto, our new friend,” said Rainbow Dash. “Alberto, meet Spike.”
“Buenos dias,” I said, not half convinced. New pony – me? Yeah right! I am a full fledged human being, so how DARE they call me an animal – especially one I have been afraid of all my life?
I confronted Twilight Sparkle and Rainbow Dash up front. “Why are you calling me a pony?” I demanded. “Do I look anything like a pony to you?”
Twilight Sparkle produced a mirror. “Have a look inside and see for yourself,” she said, looking serious.
I was honestly dumbfounded beyond words to see myself in the mirror. Was that really me? A black horse with a grey mane and glowing brown eyes? I just couldn’t believe this was happening. I lost my patience and fixed the two other horses with a severe glare. “This is some sort of a joke, isn’t it, amigos? You are trying to make me one of you? Why can’t I go back to where I came from?”
“I’m sorry, Alberto, but this is our rule here,” said Rainbow Dash. “If you have anything, you may check with the Princess.”
“Then take me to the princess!” I demanded.
The two horses guided me through the greenery – which seemed like it took years to walk through – all the way to a big white palace with purple steeples. I was so amazed that I became totally dumbfounded at the very sight of such a magnificent building in the middle of apparently endless greenery.
I followed them into the palace, where the Princess herself – a huge white mare with a tiara, and wings and a single horn on her forehead – was waiting.
“Your Highness,” said Twilight Sparkle, “here is the pony we were telling you about.”
“The two of you may go,” said the Princess. “You, new pony, stay,” she said, indicating to me.
After Twilight Sparkle and Rainbow Dash departed, I was alone with the Princess in this huge palace, which had such poor acoustics that voices easily echoed round.
“You are Alberto Garcia of La Paz, Bolivia,” said the Princess in a voice that made me think of sour lemons. “I am aware of the numerous outrages you have committed.”
Outrages. Yeah right. Everything I said or did was also an outrage. I kept quiet nonetheless, waiting for the Princess – or so she called herself – to finish her monologue.
“You were turned into a pony because you were entering Equestria,” went on the Princess, “and it is required that every visitor that is not a pony or a magical creature, must become a pony. You are an earth pony now, to be specific, because you come from Earth.”
I continued keeping the silence.
“You were taken to see me because of only one thing,” said the Princess, raising her tone of voice, “and that is because you have committed something wrong recently. Have you done or said anything that does not spread Love, Kindness, and Tolerance recently, especially to horses or ponies? Do you know that that is a mistake which will torment you for the rest of your life?”
I wanted to deny it, but I knew I definitely had done so. The very memory of Twilight Sparkle and Rainbow Dash flying into my room that night, just made me tremble with fear.
“I know what you are thinking,” said the Princess, “and that is that you want to go back to Earth. Do not worry, I have every intention of granting your wish.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. I knew it, her bark was worse than her bite.
“However, there is a condition,” said the Princess. “You have to vow not to say anything that does not spread Love, Kindness, or Tolerance. If anything untoward comes out of your very lips, and you are found out by my ponies again, the same leniency shown to you today may not be shown to you again. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, Your Highness,” I replied, in a soft voice.
“Very well then,” said the Princess. “You may go. Here is your portal.”
Waving her hooves, the Princess caused that portal – the very same one that had appeared over Senor Perez’s hacienda that night – to appear in her very palace. I stepped through the gates... and woke up on my armchair in a cold sweat, shivering and stuttering: “H-h-h-help...!”
“Que pasa!” cried Donita, suddenly running into my room. “Alberto! Como esta usted? You all right?”
“Muy bien, gracias,” I replied, hoping to keep my companera quiet.
“Are you sure?” cried Donita. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”
“Si, si...” I began, but I was reluctant to tell Donita anything bad about that pony Princess or any part thereof, afraid that I might somehow be overheard by those two locos caballos that disturbed my peace earlier on. So I just told Donita, “Si, but I’ve taken care of it already.”
“It better be that way,” said Donita. “At this rate you’re going, Alberto, you’ll be waking up the whole neighbourhood!” She left and went back to her room.
I stayed awake till almost 4am in front of my MacBook, trying desperately to finish all my paperwork because Senor Perez would surely be expecting it of me the following day.
In fact, I did finish it, but Senor Perez was most upset with me still. He called me to his office.
“Mil million bombas! Is this the kind of work you give to me?” he yelled. “Santa Madre de Dios! I made you a project manager, even gave you an air-conditioned working environment, and this is how you carry out your work! Look – even simple arithmetic you cannot do properly; since when was 2 + 3 equal to 6?? Oh boy!”
“Senor, I can explain...” I began.
“Basta! You’re demoted to the ranks!” screamed Perez. “Go and get your shovels and work along with the very men you once commanded! And make it snappy, before I explode!”
You can imagine how angry I was. I had to actually do the dirty work – a job I simply hated doing. (I mean, who likes that kind of work anyway?) Some of those workmen, formerly my subordinates, were laughing at me even as I took my shovels along. I lost my patience and hit a workman with my shovel. Unfortunately, Perez caught me red-handed.
“Garcia, I hired you as a project manager to supervise my workmen, not to attack them!” he screeched. “Have you become loco in the cabeza or something?!”
“Yes, I AM loco in the cabeza!” I retorted. “I am loco enough to kill all of you today! I have practically slaved the whole night, had little more than an hour and a half of sleep; and this is how you are treating me – making me do the very work that my workmen do! This is NOT the place for someone with my education! If this treatment doesn’t make me loco in the cabeza, then what would you expect! I’m out of here!”
“One more thing – you don’t have to come to work tomorrow!” shrieked Perez.
“I’d be only too happy!” I shouted as I stormed out of the construction site and headed back to my flat. I had to wait for the notice from the Bolivian embassy in Spain concerning my deportation back to La Paz. All thanks to the intervention from los dos caballos the night before – this had just cost me my job. I would be too happy to start afresh, I thought, as I entered my flat.
“Donita!” I called. She was not around, but had left me a note:
Alberto mio,
I have gone out with some friends for a pool session at Bel Mundo shopping mall in Las Palmas. I will not be home till 9:30pm. Hope your work goes well today.
Tu amor,
Donita.
Doppio diavolo! Now I had something else to reckon with – Donita herself. How would I face her? No, I had to go to Las Palmas and see her at the pool center in Bel Mundo.
When I arrived at Bel Mundo, it was a double blow for me. I saw my companera Donita, wearing her red flannel dress (which she promised to wear at our wedding, which was scheduled to be in a few more months’ time) and playing billiards with some people whom I knew and was not exactly on very good terms with; one of them was a compatriot of ours, a young 22-year-old Inca Indian named Huascar Leon, 11 years younger than me, whose ancestors had nearly wiped out the Aymara Indians, my ancestors. Like all those before him, Huascar was a sly and cunning man who clearly had his eyes set on Donita. Of course, I would not stand for that. This was yet another sign that the entrance of those ponies in my life was just nothing more than bad luck, which I had to do something about – and fast.
First things first: I had to kill Huascar. But what could I do? Simple – I had my gun. I grabbed it and ran into the pool center, shrieking: “Huascar Leon, you muchacho! Leave my woman alone!”
“You stay out of this, estupido!” screamed Huascar, pulling out his own gun in turn.
“Basta todo! Please!” pleaded Donita. “We can talk things over!”
“I will handle this!” I shouted, pushing Donita aside – not that I’d wanted to anyway – and challenged Huascar Leon to a duel. The security guards of Bel Mundo Shopping Mall came and intervened – and in the process, I accidentally shot and killed one of them. Huascar escaped unharmed.
You could say that luck was really down on me. I was arrested and sentenced to three months’ imprisonment for manslaughter, after which I would be deported back to La Paz. Donita, still the faithful companera, came to visit me on a weekly basis.
On one of those visits, Donita asked me this question: “Alberto, you seem to have become a totally different man since that night. What really happened? Why were you calling for help in the middle of the night?”
I thought the time had come to tell her the truth. I told her everything about my visit to “Equestria” and los dos caballos locos – the ones that called themselves Twilight Sparkle and Rainbow Dash – who had attempted to try and make me believe in them and their doctrines about “Love, kindness, and tolerance”.
“Oh, you mean the Little Ponies of Equestria,” said Donita. “Well, here’s the thing. I know them personally. They’re actually quite nice. Why should you be afraid of them?”
Donita’s words really took me by surprise. I just could not accept that my companera was also into all these caballo nonsense.
I took a deep breath before I spoke.
“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?”
“Oh, just poco curioso,” I admitted.
“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.
“Si,” I answered.
“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 asked, innocently.
“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.
“OI!” came a shout in my ear, suddenly. I woke up.
“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!”
I stood up, very reluctantly.
“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.
“You can still stand and sleep?!” he yelled. “Stand on the chair!”
I had no choice but to obey his orders, completely spellbound.
“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!”
“Uno!” said the first recruit on the far left.
“Dos!” said the second.
“Tres!” said Huascar.
“San...” I began, trying to say “Santa Madre de Dios”.
“WHAT HAPPENED TO CUATRO?!” yelled decurion Jose.
“Sorry!” I cried, coming to my senses. “Cuatro!”
“Why did you say ‘cinco’?” cried decurion Jose.
“No, no! Cuatro!” I begged.
“One more time!” shouted decurion Jose. “Dari kanan, LOMBOR!”
“Uno!” said the first recruit on the far left.
“Dos!” said the second.
“Tres!” said Huascar.
“San... Cuatro!” I cried.
“CUATRO OR CINCO??” yelled decurion Jose.
“Cuatro!” I said, out loud.
“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.
“One more time!” shouted decurion Jose. “Dari kanan, LOMBOR!”
“Uno!” said the first recruit.
“Dos!” said the second.
“Tres!” said Huascar.
“Cuatro!” said the fourth recruit from left, formerly who had stood to my left and now was standing to my right.
“Cuatro!” I said.
Decurion Jose was not amused. “HOW COME THERE ARE TWO CUATROS?!” he screeched.
“I didn’t say ‘Cinco’ this time!” I tried to explain.
“Is it cuatro or cinco now?” snapped decurion Jose.
“Cuatro!” I said.
“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 shouted. “Dari kanan, LOMBOR!”
“Uno!” said the first recruit.
“Dos!” said the second.
“Tres!” said Huascar.
“San... Caramba!” I cried, almost forgetting to count “cuatro”.
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.
“You all got it?” Decurion Jose asked us.
“Si senor!” we replied.
“OK! Stand by!” shouted decurion Jose. “Ke kanan, lu-RUS!”
“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.
“Sedi-A!”
Once again we switched to standing straight position.
“Senang di-RI!”
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!”
“Que pasa?” snapped decurion Jose.
“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!”
I was completely dumbfounded. “Pumping??”
“Push up!” said decurion Jose.
“Push where?” I asked.
“Push the floor!” said decurion Jose, clearly at the end of his tether.
“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.
“Get down now!” screamed decurion Jose.
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!”
We all stood straight.
“Senang di-RI!”
And just as we stood back to the senang diri position again, Huascar Leon stepped on my right foot. I screamed. “OWWWW!!”
“Que pasa?!” cried decurion Jose.
“He stepped on my foot!” I cried, pointing at Huascar.
“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!”
I trembled.
“One more time!” ordered decurion Jose. “Sedi-A!”
We all stood straight – for the umpteenth time.
“Senang di-RI!”
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!”
The two recruits got onto all fours. Huascar began counting. “1, 2...”
Decurion Jose was incensed. “1, 2 WHAT?!” he yelled.
“1 push-up, 2 push-up...” Huascar began again.
“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?”
“Si senor!” we all answered.
“OK! Stand by!” shouted decurion Jose. “Ke kiri, pu-SING!”
We all turned 90 degrees to the left.
“Ke kanan, pu-SING!”
We all turned 90 degrees to the right, our original facing direction.
“Ke kiri, pu-SING!”
We all turned 90 degrees to the left again.
“Ke belakang, pu-SING!”
We all turned 180 degrees to the rear.
“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!”
“All right! Very simple!” said decurion Jose. “Repeat after me: Sedia!”
“Que?” I asked.
“Sedia!” said decurion Jose.
“Yahya?” I asked.
“SEDIA!” yelled decurion Jose, raising his fist at me till I was so scared I almost passed out.
I took a deep breath. “Sidi-A!”
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!”
“Sorry senor! I’ll do it again!” I cried. “Sedi-A!”
By some coincidence, the platoon were already standing straight. “Already sedia,” I said to decurion Jose.
“Bien!” said decurion Jose. “Now try this: Ke kiri pusing!”
I took a deep breath. “Ke chilli, pu-SING!” I shouted.
“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’!”
I was dumbfounded for a moment.
“Try this one: Ke kanan pusing!” said the decurion.
I took a deeper breath. “Ke kanna, pu-SING!” I cried.
Decurion Jose was not amused. “Caramba! Kanna is a kind of duck meat! Kanan is right face!” he cried. “Try this: Ke belakang pusing!”
I took an even deeper breath. “Ke... ke belachan pu-SING!” I shouted.
“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!”
I took a deep breath. “Ke tobalek, pu-SING!” I cried.
“Upside down face!” I explained. “And I got one more, even more original, if Senor will allow me!”
“Show us then!” said the decurion.
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.
“Sedi-A!” shouted decurion Jose.
We stood straight.
“Ke kiri, pu-SING!” shouted decurion Jose.
We turned 90 degrees to the left.
“Ke kanan, pu-SING!” shouted decurion Jose.
We turned 90 degrees back to the right.
“Ke kanan, pu-SING!” shouted decurion Jose again.
We turned 90 degrees right.
“Dari kiri, cepat, ja-LAN!” shouted decurion Jose, giving us the order to start marching.
And that’s what we did, as the decurion led us in a marching song.
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!”
“Si senor!” I said, hoping to finally get some 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!”
“But I’m being punished!” I said.
“That doesn’t matter!” said Rainbow Dash. “Just come with me quickly before they discover us!”
“But you...” I began.
“Quiet!” said Rainbow Dash. “I’m here to rescue you!”
“Que pasa?” I was astounded at those very words. “Did I hear you right..?”
“Just come with me!” said Rainbow Dash. “No time to talk!”
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?
My mind drifted back to the good old days…
[flashback]
(year 1988, in the Andes)
“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…
* * *
(year 1992, in a classroom in La Paz, Bolivia)
“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?”
I trembled. A classmate of mine raised his hand.
“Si, Galvano?” said the teacher.
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!”
The entire class – except me – applauded him.
“Bueno!” said the teacher. “Here’s a perfect example! And now…”
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.
“Como esta usted, Alberto?” asked the teacher.
I remember I ran out of the class, entirely in tears.
Later that day when I got home, Mama saw that I was crying. “Alberto, como esta usted?”
“Bueno, gracias,” I replied.
“Come on, Alberto, you’re in tears,” said Mama. “Are you sure you’re ok?”
I looked Mama in the eye and asked her, “Mama, where is Papa?”
“Why do you suddenly ask me this?” Mama countered, startled.
“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.”
“But will Papa ever come back?” I asked Mama.
“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…
* * *
(year 1997, Easter, after Mass)
“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, como esta?” I asked her, politely.
“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?”
“Si,” I grudgingly replied.
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…
* * *
(year 2007, in Alberto’s hacienda in Bolivia)
I looked again at the letter I’d received in the mail.
Dear Senor Garcia,
We are very pleased to offer you the following post in our firm:
CONSTRUCTION PROJECT MANAGER
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.
Yours faithfully,
Francisco Juan Perez CEO All Lee Construction Enterprises Pte Ltd
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.
“It’s so far, Alberto,” she said. “You sure you’re up to this?”
“Si,” I replied. “After all, they do need my help. I can’t say no.”
“Por favor, Alberto, you’re going to leave me behind?” cried Donita.
“No,” I said. “I will never leave you behind. I’ll take you with me.”
“But only one air ticket…” Donita protested.
“I’ll fix that,” I said. “Don’t worry about it.”
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…
* * *
(year 2007, in the Canaries)
“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.
Donita came in at the moment. “Que pasa?” she cried.
“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!”
“Calm yourself!” cried Donita. “Sit down and relax, and we’ll talk!”
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.
“Alberto,” Donita asked me, “you really love me, do you not?”
“Si,” I replied. “Of course I love you. Why wouldn’t I?”
“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.
“Por favor! Alberto! Don’t be so disgusting!” cried Donita.
“I like it! Can’t I?” I retorted, spitting again.
“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.
“Sorry senorita, just doing my duty,” said the officer.
“What duty?!” I cried. “Oh! I know! Your king asked you to hide here and come and catch us right? Easy job!”
“Your I/C, por favor,” said the officer.
“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.
“Jere…?” I couldn’t pronounce his name properly.
“But you can call me Jeremiah Lee,” he replied.
“Sure,” I said. “Bienvenidos al All Lee Construction.”
“Sorry dude, my Spanish is very bad,” said Jeremiah.
“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!”
Ali stood up and sang at the top of his lungs:
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.”
“Indeed!” said Jeremiah.
“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.”
“Yes! I’m Lee also!” said the cleaner.
“He’s also Lee?” asked Jeremiah.
“Si,” I replied. “He’s Bangalee.”
“Meeting!” called Senor Perez from his office.
We all went into the meeting room.
“Senores,” announced Perez, “I am happy to announce the promotion of our newest Senior Project Manager…”
My heart was thumping. Would I finally get the coveted?
“… Jeremiah Lee!” announced Perez.
I was extremely disappointed at the fact that my position had been lost to that muchacho…
[/flashback]
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.
“Alberto?” she asked.
“Si,” I replied. “You called me?”
“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?”
I kept silent, unsure what to say.
“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?”
“No,” was all I replied.
“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.”
“Senorita caballa, por favor, I…” I tried to excuse myself.
“Three, you assaulted a colleague,” Twilight Sparkle continued her rant. “That ultimately led to your dismissal from that job.”
“So what is it you want?” I demanded.
“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.
It was really all very mysterious, I thought, as I slowly trudged my way out of the forest. So many years had gone by, and I was already 33 and still had not yet found out what the heck had happened to Papa. Si, I know Mama had told me lots of stories about Papa being unfaithful and all that, but now I was beginning to suspect that something was not exactly very right somewhere. Firstly, why would Papa be unfaithful to Mama, who as far as I know would not hurt a fly? Secondly, which biological father in his right mind would not have bothered to even visit his own son, even if living so far away? No, there was something desperately wrong here. But for now, I thought it best to safeguard my own life first – especially since I knew that I had just escaped from the army illegally, and that by this time the local Ministry of Defense would surely be after me.
So when I came to the first village outside the forest, I could already make out that there was a price on my head – apparently, signs had been posted randomly on walls in this village; people had been asked to “call 999 immediately” if they saw Alberto Garcia, for a reward not exceeding 5000 quetzals, by order of the law. Amazing indeed, it was. I knew I had to hide. So I went to secretly change out of my uniform into plain clothes, hiding under some barrels in the streets; and then I carefully blended in with the crowd – thankfully I did not look anything like I did in the picture that they had put in those signs. Nobody seemed to notice me, and furthermore, I was not in my army uniform now.
This village was the very same village that I had grown up in as a kid. It was in the outskirts of La Paz, the capital of and largest city in our country. I took out my mobile phone and gave Mama a call, hoping she’d remember me.
“Hola?” came Mama’s voice.
“Hola? Mama?” I said.
“Caramba! Alberto mio!” cried Mama. “Donde estava?”
“Don’t worry, Mama, I’m back in our village,” I said.
“Don’t worry? Come back quickly!” cried Mama. I could sense the urgency in her voice. Thankfully I knew my way around the village pretty well, despite not having lived here for more than 6 years now.
When I got home, nothing much had changed. Mama herself was there to greet me. “Que pasa, Alberto? Do you know that there’s a price on your head?” she cried.
“Si,” I answered, “but I don’t know why.”
“There have been guerrilla attacks recently in our area, so much so that our army had to be called into action,” said Mama. “Are you sure you weren’t involved?”
“No, Mama,” I said, truthfully.
“Bueno,” said Mama, wiping her eyes. “As long as you’re safe, I’m happy. Donde esta Donita?”
“Wherever she may be, I hope she’s safe,” I said, starting to cry. I knew I really missed her.
“What about your job in the Canaries? Why did you resign?” Mama asked me.
“My ex-boss was really a jerk of jerks,” I said, telling Mama the truth. “A definitive muchacho, that Francisco Perez. He tried all ways and means to make life difficult for me. I almost died a few times on the job. You tell me, how would anyone in their right mind be able to take such stress?”
“And so, because of that, you resigned?” cried Mama, starting to get worked up.
“Not only that,” I said, trying to hide the Bel Mundo case as much as I possibly could. “I intend to sue him for oppressive work conditions.”
“You are saying… you intend to sue Francisco Perez?!” cried Mama; and now I noted the shrill note of alarm in her voice. I took a deep breath before I replied.
“Si,” I said.
Mama was stupefied beyond words. “Alberto, don’t you dare!” she cried. “Francisco Perez is a very rich billionaire who owns numerous assets! Any lawsuit from him and you are sure to be up against a wall, pronto! Do you want that to happen?!”
“Mama, I am no longer a nino,” I said. “I know what I am doing. I know he is being oppressive to all his workers. I have every right to sue him if I want to.”
Mama said nothing in reply, but slammed her newspapers on her straw couch and stormed out of the hacienda, clearly in tears. I gazed on after her, completely dumbfounded -- it was strange why she would get so worked up over the very mention of the name of Francisco Perez....
* * *
HUASCAR LEÓN: Alberto Garcia’s mysterious disappearance from the barracks took us all completely by surprise. Even our centurion was unable to verify as to what exactly had happened. In fact, he was already accusing Garcia of being a traitor to our nation, merely because Garcia had apparently deserted the army during a period of terror like the one we were currently facing from Cuban guerrillas.
Centurion Carlos came to us and gave us an order to split up into a few teams to go and search for Garcia. He said, “Whichever team finds Recruit Alberto Garcia first and delivers him to our hands, that team will be richly rewarded 5000 quetzals, and the team leader will be promoted to an optione.”
I admit that in the 6 months we'd known each other, Alberto Garcia and I have not always been on good terms. My one aim of finding him, at the time, was to show that I am not half as bad as I may have seemed. Sure, I may dislike him; but because I’m not half as inhumane as some people are, I thought that the least I could do under the circumstances was to find him and – no, not deliver him into the hands of the army – to bring him to safety and then kill him, to get my vengeance. At least that was what I thought at the time, not having known Garcia that well then.
And so I called together my platoon. The soldiers were clearly a little scared; most found his disappearance that night “miraculous”, and some more superstitious among them thought that Recruit Alberto Garcia was probably a spirit of some sort who had come to haunt them.
But I reassured them, saying, “Do not fear, gentlemen! This mission is ours to call our own! The road ahead may be a little rough, but do not let that pull you down! We have an objective at the end to accomplish!
We may see beasts of every genre, We might be tortured by the trees. The rain and snow may fall, the Andes gales may blow But we will still have peace.
All kinds of troubles may surround us, In every color, shape and size. But don’t feel left behind, Garcia’s whom we’ll find, We’ll give him a surprise!
How sweet vendetta is for us, mis amigos, When you and I can be sus testigos; No habla que pasa, no habla que dirar, There ain’t nobody gonna stop us goin’ far!
When we take arms up in a war, mis amigos; There ain’t no turnin’ back, par el mundo; No habla que pasa, no habla que dirar, Cuando aqui esta!
My men somehow got high upon hearing those words that they all began joining hands and dancing. Juan, one of our legionaries whose voice somehow resembled Garcia’s, started singing:
When calypso rhythm starts to play, Dance with me, make me sway! Like the lazy ocean hugs the shore, Hold me close, sway me more!
Like a flower bending in the breeze, Dance with me, sway with ease! When you dance you have a way with me, Stay with me, sway with me!
Other dancers may be on the floor, I’ve got eyes here to see only you; Only you have that magic technique, When we sway, I grow weak!
I can hear the sound of violins, Long before it begins. Make me thrill as only you know how, Swing me smooth, sway me now!
“All right! Basta! Playtime is over now!” I ordered. “Platoon, FALL IN!”
“Caramba, Huascar! We’re having so much fun and you want to stop us!” cried another soldier.
“Enough! One more word and I shoot!” I said, taking out my revolver. “Platoon, FALL IN!”
Everybody dropped their guns and fell into line.
“Dari kiri, cepat, ja-LAN!” I shouted.
And we began marching out to search for Alberto Garcia.
* * *
RAINBOW DASH: I’d always felt great pity for our human friend Alberto Garcia. From the time Twilight Sparkle and I first saw him, we already knew he was having lots of emotional problems, mainly stemming from countless negative experiences he’d had since young.
When we got back to Equestria, Princess Celestia and Princess Luna called a meeting in their palace with myself, Twilight, Pinkie Pie, Fluttershy, Applejack, Rarity, Big McIntosh, and Derpy Hooves. Spike the dragon was also sitting in with us, as our secretary.
“This is some sort of a most unusual case,” Princess Luna remarked. “My sister here has told me to ask you guys to regularly check on this Garcia guy, this poor construction worker from Bolivia who speaks mainly in Spanish. How has he been lately?”
“Well,” said Twilight, “it seems that he is a little skeptical about our sincerity in helping him; however, we are aware that his girlfriend is one of our Pegasister followers, and has been encouraging him in his low moments.”
“And his low moments are getting increasingly apparent,” I added. “Last I saw him, he was apparently causing some major shitstorm in the army; don’t know why though.”
“Indeed,” said Princess Celestia. “I already had a word with him that time. Did he explicitly badmouth us to anyone?”
“No,” I said. “At least not that I can recall.”
“If you ask me,” said Twilight, “I think Alberto Garcia is not so much a demon in human flesh as he is a poor soul who suffers from lack of true unconditional love. From what Dashie and I have gathered till now, we can see that he is pretty much a very unhappy man.”
“Allow me to cut you there,” interrupted Big McIntosh.
We all grew silent. Big Mac rarely spoke, but whenever he did, he certainly had very good reasons to do so.
“Alberto probably lacks something psychologically, judging from the way you guys have described his behavior,” said Big Mac, looking really serious. “Do you not realise that he has been engaging in lots of strenuous activity?”
“How do you know that?” asked Rarity.
“He is a construction worker, isn’t he?” asked Big Mac. “Then how come Dashie just mentioned that suddenly he went to join the army? Two extremely strenuous jobs – only meant for mature men, do you realise that? If you put two and two together, I detect that he most probably lacks paternal love.”
“He’s not that old,” said Twilight. “I’m sure he definitely still lives with his parents, though he is already considered engaged.”
"All the same," I put in, "I think it's best that we continue to observe his every move, and intervene whenever we can. He may continue to not believe us, but our main goal here is one thing -- to get him back on the right track. He cannot go on like this forever."
"Easy to say," said Princess Luna, frowning. "But how can we put that into practical action?"
"I've got an idea," suddenly blurted Pinkie Pie. All our eyes were on her all of a sudden.
"Alberto should be back in Bolivia by now," Pinkie went on. "He is currently embroiled in running away from the Bolivian People's Army. His recent resignation from All Lee Construction Enterprises also has somehow caused a rift between him and his mother, don't know why exactly though. Right now, his mother has left home, and Alberto is also trying to find a way to legally fight against his ex-boss, who is believed to have been the cause of his resignation. My guess is that sooner or later, he will be caught by the army staff again and sent back to camp to do some hard labor as punishment, along the well-known Yungas Road. And..... that is where YOU come into the picture!" she cried, pointing at me and Derpy Hooves.
"Why us?" cried Derpy.
"You'll see when it happens," smiled Pinkie, giving Derpy and me a wink...
* * *
MAMA LUISA: After leaving home that day, I knew something had to be done to save my son. I couldn't believe he was actually fighting against .... Francisco Juan Perez, of all people. That muchacho would surely have done our whole family in if I had not left home to speak with Francisco personally.
So I drove all the way in my old van to Sucre, where the headquarters of All Lee Enterprises was located. Perez Manor was indeed a huge mansion. I stepped out of my van and entered the gate, which by some chance was ajar. I walked slowly up to the door and rang the doorbell. An elder butler answered.
"Si, senorita, what can I do for you?" he asked.
"I'd like to speak with Senor Perez, por favor," I requested politely. "It's regarding something extremely personal."
"May I know who you are to him?" asked the butler.
"I am... an ex-staff of his," I said. "My name is Luisa Garcia."
"Senor Perez is not around now, senorita," said the butler, his face suddenly growing cold.
"Can you give him a call for me then?" I asked, hoping to somehow someway get to Francisco.
"Sorry senorita, we do not provide such services. If you do not leave now, I'm afraid we'll have to call the policia," said the butler. I knew he meant business when he said that, so I turned to go.
Just as I was running out the front gate, I saw a huge Mercedes limousine driving in. I knew immediately that was Francisco Perez driven by his chauffeur.
But before I could run up to his limousine, it stopped halfway through the gate, and Perez stepped out. He saw me, and he saw the butler behind me. "What's going on?" he demanded.
"This loca dona here is making trouble for us, senor," said the butler. "Just call the policia."
"No," said Perez. "I'll handle her myself." Then he turned to me. "So how may I help you?" he asked, giving me a look I'll never forget.
"Senor, I'm Luisa, your former dishwasher," I said. "My son Alberto also worked with you for a period of time. He's also your son. Please do not harm him, por favor!"
"That's what I mean, senor!" interrupted the butler. "This lady is totally loca! Call the mental hospital!"
"SILENCIO!" Perez shouted at his butler, then he turned back to me. "Muy bien," he said, softly but sternly. "We will close one eye this time and pretend we didn't hire your son. Don't ever come back and give us trouble again. Now go."
It was such a relief for me to know that somehow Francisco Perez had relented. I just had to drive home to scold my son....
* * *
ALBERTO: I was busy gathering information against Francisco Juan Perez, merely by searching up on the internet. Our hacienda may well have been poor and modest, but Mama and I could certainly get by with a cheap PC and a simple Wi-Fi connection. I had just seen a lawyer recently and he'd told me, "Senor Garcia, what you need is evidence. Just find the evidence against Senor Perez, and you can't go wrong."
Hence I was now searching up online for information on Perez, seeing how prestigious he was. Sadly, only one site truly had the information I needed -- and it was not explicitly listed on Google; I found it only after searching through links of various websites. I found out that he was a very interesting character. For starters, he was a womaniser, who loved going to pubs and singing karaoke with the showgirls. He also was a very unscrupulous character, who would often resort to underhand means to getting what he wanted -- indeed this was what had made him the billionaire he was at the time.
Interestingly, Perez was already a grandfather; he had two children, it seems -- the daughter was a successful reporter, while the son was believed to be deceased, allegedly drowned in a freak accident while on holiday with his mother, according to one site. Perez had brought his daughter up singlehandedly, and later on he re-married a rich mestizo businesswoman named Angela Guzman.
This Angela Guzman, it seems, was the widow of Lee Tsung-Tow, an extremely rich Taiwanese who had settled in the once-poor town of Estrela del Mar in Argentina and started All Lee Enterprises together with her, but died of cancer at the absurdly young age of 45 while half-way on a million-dollar project. While in Estrela del Mar, Lee had a son by Angela, whose name was Benedicto Lee-Guzman; now 22 years old, Benedicto, known popularly as "Benz" because of his obsession with Mercedes Benz cars (of which he owned at least 5!), now served as the General Manager of All Lee Enterprises, second only to Perez, the CEO. He was, in all sincerity, the youngest ever General Manager I'd known. Indeed, during my short stint in All Lee Enterprises, while I had not come into personal contact with him (me being directly under Perez at the time), I could already see how much influence Benz Guzman had over all the staff in All Lee, corruption and all. In fact, needless to say that Perez had officially adopted Benz as his godson at the Cathedral in Estrela del Mar. Apparently, Benz Guzman's best friend, Justino Diaz, a fat, balding Colombian from Dunedain, had also been taken under Perez's wing, and was serving as the Service Operations Manager of All Lee, and third in line of power after Perez and Benz Guzman.
I collated all that information and more also, whatever I could find on the Internet, and printed it out. I hoped to show it to the lawyer the following day; indeed, I'd made an appointment. Whoever had accurately predicted as to what was about to happen that night must have been sent from G-d above.
Mama came home in a towering rage and happened to see me printing stuff out. "Alberto!" she shouted, shaking me out of my reverie. "Come here!"
"What is it now?!" I demanded, turning around in great anger and astonishment.
"Listen to me Alberto, you are under the influence of the Devil!" Mama cried. "Do you want me to go to the church and get the priest to come here and sprinkle you with holy water?!"
"Mama, have you gone loco in the coco or something?!" I cried. "This is something I have to do, and you will not stop me from doing it! Justice MUST be served!"
Mama was not one bit convinced. "Give it to me!" she shrieked, grabbing the documents in my arm. I resisted her with the best possible effort, trying my hardest not to end up tearing the documents.
All too soon, a shout was heard from the door. "Luisa Garcia!" shouted a male voice.
We turned around and saw two gangsters with jackknives in their hands. "If you want anything, talk to me!" I said to them. "Leave my Mama alone!"
"No way!" shouted one of the gangsters. "She owes us at least 70,000 quetzals!"
I knew that these were clearly loansharks. I picked up the phone, about to dial the police; but Mama stopped me. "No son!" she cried. But it was too late; by this time the two gangsters were entering our hacienda. Mama and I tried to stop them. We were successful, but in the end Mama accidentally killed both gangsters with an old sword which was our family heirloom that had been kept in our family's possession since the time of Mama's grandparents.
Scared beyond words, Mama begged me what to do. I knew we had no choice but to hide the truth. We buried the bodies of the two loansharks in our small garden and said a few rosaries for their souls.
Suddenly I remembered my printouts. To my horror I discovered that, in the ensuing scuffle with those loansharks, the printouts had been torn to shreds. Our laptop had also been smashed, and I could not remember the URL of the website which I'd visited.
It was really really terrible when I went to see the notary the following day. "It's true, you will be fighting a losing battle there if you intend to sue him like this, without evidence," said the lawyer. "Hombre joven, you gotta understand that what the court demands of both parties is evidence. And without evidence, you most probably won't stand a chance against Francisco Perez, given that he too is a very prestigious businessman in these parts."
Now this certainly meant business. I had to find the information again somehow. But our family was poor like shit, too poor to afford another laptop; and the nearest cybercafe was in neighboring Estrela in Argentina; almost all the computers here in Bolivia were privately domestically owned.
So I had to improvise somehow. I remember I myself was once a worker in All Lee Enterprises, so I thought I could then write about my experiences as a worker there, in a little memoir. I set to work at once. In just one day, the memoir was completed, and all set to be submitted to Bolivian Daily News.
While I was travelling to the post office to mail my memoir to the newspapers, suddenly I saw someone -- or rather, some weird caballo-like creature -- flying down from the sky and floating right before my very eyes. This one was different; it had a few bubbles on its buttocks, as well as a grey fur coat, and a blonde mane, and a pair of wings. Her eyes looked a little... er... squinted, if that's the right word.
I stopped in surprise. "So, you are...?" I asked this new caballo.
"Alberto! Alberto! Why are you persecuting us?" asked the grey caballo, still flapping her wings and looking down at me with a really derpy expression on her face.
"Er... I'm not persecuting you, I'm just on the way to the post office," I said to her, remembering to be polite for fear that that huge white mare called the "Princess" might come at me again. "What can I do for you anyway?"
"Listen to me, Alberto," said the grey caballo, her face becoming serious. "Don't you dare submit your memoir to the news, unless you want to die. Just forgive and forget the past. Go get yourself a life."
"Sorry, senorita, but I've made up my mind on what I want to do," I said.
"Very well, suit yourself," said the grey caballo. "Do not blame us if there be any repercussions on the way." And with that, she flew away.
I was beginning to think that these caballos were totally loco in the cabeza. Why did they have to come to me of all people? Here I was, minding my own business, and they just had to interfere. Why was my luck so down on me? That fateful night in the Canaries had certainly been the decisive moment in time all right.
Nevertheless I chose to forget those caballos and concentrate on more important matters. I pressed on and marched straight to the post office, where I officially delivered the letter. Phewph, I thought, that was a weight off my mind.
Two uneventful days went by, then suddenly one evening when I had turned in early, Mama woke me up with a loud shout. "Alberto! The police are looking for you!"
I came suddenly wide awake and ran out of my bedroom, clad only in a towel, where I saw Mama wringing her hands and standing beside our landline phone, which she had clearly just dropped and left dangling.
"What's the matter now?" I demanded, cross at being awoken like that.
"So you tried to sue Francisco Perez, did you not?!" shrieked Mama. "What sort of a son are you?!! Why, why, WHY did you keep such a BIG matter from me??!!"
"Mama, are you quite well?" I asked, half concerned and half annoyed. "You better go and have a rest, you've been working yourself hard all night."
"Why don't you just get out of this hacienda right this minute!" wept Mama, pushing me out of the front door and crying crocodile tears. "I don't want to be your mama anymore!"
Forced to leave, I walked out of the hacienda with a hand carrier containing all my valuables and clothes. I knew that I had to go and see someone about this. And who better than Donita herself?
I gave her a call and we met at a small bar for a drink of aguardiente. While drinking, I shared with her what had just happened.
"Your mama is very kind," said Donita. "You should see MY papa and what he does."
"Indeed," I said. "What's he like as compared to Mama?"
"If you don't do it the right way, he wil beat you up and really get you," said Donita. "And he always does it with immediate effect. You're very fortunate to have a mama who can endure conflict for so long. Tell me what exactly did you do to make her upset?"
I told Donita everything.
"Perhaps you should yourself go to the police and see what exactly they want," she said. "I'll come with you."
We went to the local CID. The investigation officer told me that the news agency had called them up and wanted to demand that I either go and personally pick up the report from them or face the music. Faced with no other choice, we immediately went to get back the report from the news agency, and then set out onto the streets.
"So you can't go home?" Donita asked me.
I took her hand and sang to her:
Would you dance, if I asked you to dance? Would you run, and never look back? Would you cry, if you saw me crying? Would you save my soul tonight?
Would you tremble, if I touched your lips? Would you laugh? Oh please tell me this. Now would you die, for the one you love? Hold me in your arms tonight.
I can be your hero baby, I can kiss away the pain. I will stand by you forever, You can take my breath away.
And as I finished the last lines, I grabbed Donita and held her tightly.
"I guess we'll have to sleep out here tonight," said Donita. "I'll call the caballos to come and keep us company."
"No, Donita, don't," I begged her.
"Why?" she asked, startled.
"Er... just don't, por favor," I said. "I want an intimate night with you alone."
"Si, mi amor," said Donita.
* * *
DERPY HOOVES: Rainbow Dash came to me. I told her about all that had happened between me and Alberto earlier on.
"This sounds serious," Rainbow Dash said to me. "He's clearly very overcome by all that he's been going through. What exactly did you say to him?"
"Well," I said, "I did tell him that what he was doing was going to get him killed if he did not back down and let bygones be bygones. He insisted on doing it his way, he was like, I must do this by hook or by crook, I don't care about the price I have to pay, that kind of sentiment if you know what I mean. So I just told him, Alberto, suit yourself, don't blame us if there be any repercussions. And now this is what happened to him. I don't know how we can help him. And for the love of me, I seriously don't know what sort of potential Her Royal Highness Princess Celestia sees in this Alberto. If I were her, I'd long since have given up on him and let him go to the devil. Him, and his emotions, and his preoccupation with suing that Perez guy!"
"Hmmm, Derpy, you seem to be consistently ending up like this yourself," Rainbow Dash said, looking solemn. "Maybe the way you said it was too direct. You obviously chose to approach him at the wrong time, when he was in the wrong frame of mind. So obviously he reacted that way. Think about it. If Her Royal Highness says that Alberto can be helped, I'm sure as hell that she has a point."
And with that, Rainbow Dash flew off. I slowly trudged back to my hut. I knew there had to be some way to help our poor human friend. As I sat down on the hay, I sang softly in the darkness:
There was a time when I was down and out, There was a place when I was starting over. I let the vow break, I let the heartache in. Who's sorry now?
There was a place where I was standing still, And for a while I was infatuated. And then he found me, I let this stranger in. Who's sorry now?
What, what kind of fool, Tears it apart, leaving me pain and sorrow? Who's let him know, Wondering why, when will I see tomorrow? I'll be remembering when There was a time when I was down and out, There was a place when I was starting over. I let the vow break, I let the heartache in. Who's sorry now?
Was there a moment when I cut him down? Played around? I only apologise; Too many hearts they say, has to know, Has to show, when someone is in your eyes. What kind of fool, Tears it apart, leaving me pain and sorrow? Who's let him know, Wondering why, when will I see tomorrow? What kind of fool, who's sorry now?
Just then I heard a knock on the door. "Come in!" I said.
It was Braeburn, my next-door neighbour. "Ah, Derpy, you're in," he said. "Pardon my frankness, but you look like you're in tears. What seems to be the trouble? A man named Alberto, is it?"
"Yeah," I replied. "He's perpetually making things tough for us whenever we want to help him. Twilie and Dashie already had quite a lot of headaches. Today I saw what exactly they meant. I only wish we could give up on him. But Her Royal Highness won't let us; she says we have to rescue him, don't know what it is that she sees in him."
"Did you guys have some meeting on it?" Braeburn asked.
"Well, we did," I said. "Pinkie mentioned me and Dashie going to rescue Alberto from Yungas Road. But from what I see, Alberto's a smart man. For one thing he wouldn't be so foolish as to risk his life on the world's most dangerous road."
"Pinkie Pie is a prophetess," said Braeburn, looking serious. "She may well be a little hyperactive and gung-ho, but she's still a prophetess, and hence she surely knows when and how to be serious. From what Big Mac and Applejack and I have seen in her, her predictions almost always come true."
"Have some cider," I said, taking a glass of apple cider and offering it to Braeburn.
"Sure thing," said Braeburn, guzzling down the cider. "And about this Alberto guy. He's certainly tough. But that doesn't necessarily mean he's impossible. If I were you, I'd be a little more subtle when dealing with him. You know, life's like a gamble, you never know how a mere acquaintance may react when you act one way.
You gotta know when to hold it, Know when to fold it, Know when to walk away, Know when to run! You don't ever count your money when you're sitting at the table; There'll be time enough for counting when the dealing is done!
"Yes, that I know," I said, "but what about Pinkie Pie claiming that me and Dashie are the most appropriate ponies to take this case on?"
"OK, OK, you win," said Braeburn, a little annoyed. "I'll tell Pinkie Pie to be the one to take over the case. But if she says you have to come in, then you'll have to. Remember: Everypony is doing this together as a team. Not as individuals."
* * *
ALBERTO: The next morning when I woke up, I discovered that Donita was not there. I was alone, lying along the mountainous streets of La Paz, clad only in briefs and covered in a huge Aymara quilt.
I saw a mysterious piece of paper scotchtaped to this quilt. I noticed that there was handwriting on it, obviously it was a note. I took the note and read it:
BEWARE! You are about to be taken to Sucre to be shot! On the journey, pretend to be asleep. The driver, who is a friend, will drop you off at a nightclub in town where you will seek refuge with someone who will surely buy the story you are selling, as sure as you are reading this note.
A friend
"A friend"? What friend?? This was getting all the more mysterious. Was this just another of those spoofs at work again? No way, it couldn't be; the handwriting was unusually neat, not the way your typical fraud would write; also, unusually, it was written in -- get this right -- PINK-colored ink. Of all colors! As an indigenous Bolivian myself, I knew that there was no such thing as PINK-colored ink in all of Latin America, due to our former colonial masters' hatred of the pink color... so how the heck could this note have gotten past the customs authorities?? No way, there was certainly something desperately wrong here.
And what made things worse was that they had planned to take me to, of all places, Sucre, the center of Inca culture in this land. Too much! This was carrying the border way too far, I had to offess.
The driver arrived in a van soon after, as the note had predicted. "Senor Garcia?" he asked.
"Si," I replied.
"I'm from the CID in Sucre," said the driver, producing his credentials. "Come on board please. We need you to follow us to assist in our investigations."
I slowly climbed on board the container at the rear of the van. The doors of the container slammed shut behind me. I pretended to be asleep, giving the "friend" who wrote me this mysterious note the benefit of the doubt, knowing it was my only chance.
After what seemed like an eternity in this windowless darkness, the container doors opened, and I could see a huge nightclub entrance. And right before me, his hand on one of the container doors, was the driver. "You're safe now, Garcia," he said, smiling amiably.
"Just curious, but have you anything to do with this?" I asked him, producing the note with the pink handwriting.
The driver got worked up. "Put that note away quick! I'll talk!" he whispered in an urgent tone. I knew he was referring to the obvious pink color of the writing, so I hid the note in my wallet. "I am in all sincerity a police officer," said the driver. "You are apparently wanted by the CID for a few counts: one, you illegally escaped the mandatory national service during a period of civil disorder; two, you were about to be sued by Don Francisco Juan Perez, one of the most influential businessmen in all Latin America, for slander. However, upon hearing your situation from ... er... somebody, and since I was also assigned to be your investigation officer, I decided I'd take you to safety and then tell my superior that this case is closed and that I've settled it with you. Please go in peace, amigo mio; and from now on, do not sin any longer, por favor."
"But who is the person who wrote me the note?" I countered. "Do you know him?"
"Er, it's a 'she'," said the driver. "She is inside this cabaret. She will take over from here. I have to go now. Adios, amigo mio."
And so saying he hopped into his van and drove off. I walked into the nightclub, wondering who exactly was this person that the driver had spoken of, the one that had written me that mysterious pink-colored note. I could see a band on stage playing loud, raucous music, pretty obviously, and people dancing to the music; and ... welp, I could have sworn I heard another neighing sound, or did I?
And voila, there she was, walking onto the stage; the most pink-colored caballo I'd ever seen, with a sketch of three balloons on either side of her butt. She was wearing a pink party hairband, and as she stood in front of the microphone, this is the song that she sang:
Well, she got her daddy's car, and she cruised through the hamburger stand now. Seems she forgot all about the library, like she told her old man now. And with the radio blasting, goes cruising just as fast as she can now. And she'll have fun, fun, fun till her daddy takes the T-bird away.
Well the girls can't stand her, cos she walks, looks and drives like an ace now. She makes the Indy 500 look, like a Roman chariot race now. A lotta guys try to catch her, but she leads them on a wild goose chase now. And she'll have fun, fun, fun till her daddy takes the T-bird away.
Well, she's making a turn, and it looks like she's coming around now. And I'm a little concerned, cos the town is closing on down now. Well, I jump in the bird for some good-time getting around now. And we'll have fun, fun, fun till her daddy takes the T-bird away.
Well, you knew all along that your dad was gettin' wise to you now. And since he took your set of keys you've been thinking that your fun is all through now. But you can come along with me cos we gotta a lot of things to do now. And you'll have fun, fun, fun now that daddy took the T-bird away.
For once I did not feel pissed off by these caballos. Rather, I was beginning to feel more creeped out than pissed off. I mean, put it this way: While certainly very figurative, the words of her song clearly pointed out my extravagant way of life, so clearly that I was literally fixated on her all the while. What made it worse was that the people in this club all seemed to be enjoying themselves; those on the dancefloor as much as those on the stage. These caballos are no ordinary caballos, I said to myself.
After that act, I requested permission to go backstage to meet the pink caballo. The security guards initially said no, but I saw the pink caballo herself telling the guards that she wanted to "see that man by the name of Alberto". So the guards let me into her dressing room.
"I'm Alberto," I said. "How can I help you?"
"My name is Pinkie Pie, and I heard about your case," said the pink caballo. "So I spoke to the boss of this club, and she says she'd like to see you in person tomorrow at this very same place. She told me meanwhile to give you 500 quetzals to find lodging for tonight in the nearest Hotel 81."
Wow. Generosity for the win. This Pinkie Pie was most certainly no ordinary caballo. For once I was starting to see the good in the heart of at least Pinkie, if not the other caballos I'd encountered up till this time. In fact, I could clearly see from recent events that she was the one who had written me that note.
"So... who is the boss and where is she now?" I asked her.
"She will see you tomorrow here," answered Pinkie. "She did not come down today."
I was about to ask if this boss was another caballo, but remembering what the "Princess" had told me back then, I simply murmured, "Muchas gracias."
Taking the 500 quetzals in hand, as well as my luggages, I went to the nearest Hotel 81 and paid for a one-night stand. The following day I came back to the nightclub and -- it was empty.
I knocked the nightclub door. No-one answered, so I pushed open the door of the nightclub, which had apparently been left ajar, to see if there was anyone there. There wasn't. Everything looked neat and orderly. I walked in and looked around, waiting for the boss.
Suddenly I heard a banging sound behind me. I turned around, expecting to see another caballo. Thank goodness it was not. It was this young lady, around my age, who had apparently just fully pushed open the door of the pub till it hit the door stopper and made a banging sound. I trembled upon seeing her, knowing that this was none other than the boss herself.
"Kindly remember that there are some places in this nightclub which are not to be disturbed," said the boss, in a tone that made me think of sour lemons. I said nothing in response but slowly followed her out, where she poured me and herself some aguardiente.
"So... who are you and how did you know about my case?" I asked her.
"My name is Rosalinda," said the boss, "but you can call me Rosa. I am the owner of this nightclub. I called on you, Senor Alberto, because I want to buy your story."
Was this for real?? I rubbed my ears. "Sorry, what was that again?" I asked her. "Did I hear you right?"
"I said, I want to buy your story," repeated Rosa. "I believe your story has a lot of potential. If no-one else wants to buy it, I will."
"Are you a reporter in your own right, or do you know any reporters who would buy this story?" I asked her, getting increasingly curious.
"I am a reporter in my own right," said Rosa. "I also run my own news firm. Just so you know, I used to work in similar industries as you did, and the way I was treated was just about the same if not worse. While I am not exactly a campesino like you are, I do feel for you campesinos who are constantly made to do the tough jobs for such low pay. It can be really daunting. And hence, I can make your story sound very convincing."
"Did you ever work for Francisco Juan Perez?" I asked.
Rosa hesitated a bit. "Er.... you could say that," she said. "But all along I'd been suspecting that he was doing something illicit behind the backs of his workers. Only upon hearing about your testimony, was my suspicion confirmed. So I knew I had to get back at him somehow."
Wow. This was truly a woman who could certainly identify with me in just about every way. I don't know if it was the drinks, but I was honestly beginning to start having feelings for her at this point.
I passed Rosa the original copy of my story, all handwritten on paper. "Here it is," I said. She took the manuscript, scrolled it up and kept it in her handbag.
"You can be sure that it'll be in the local news tomorrow," said Rosa, flashing me a warm winning smile. I smiled back politely.
* * *
PINKIE PIE: Braeburn had approached me and told me to settle the matter for him, claiming that Derpy was not emotionally ready to handle this yet. So, using the most fun possible method, I took over the Alberto case.
In my opinion at least, this case was dead simple. What Alberto was looking for all along was some approval. He was already adequately rejected as it was, and he certainly didn't have very much time left to go, considering that he was still on the run from the Bolivian People's Army and would surely be taken back in -- and given the mandatory detention for AWOL from army -- sooner than expected. And people were still rejecting him. If there was one thing he needed desperately to boost his morale, it was approval.
So I'd approached Rosalinda Perez, the daughter of Don Francisco and the owner of the Carmen nightclub in downtown Sucre. Rosa herself was already having much conflict with her horrible father as well as with all the equally horrible managers he set over all his lowly workers. And she too was a part-time reporter, running her own firm. If there was anyone who had enough credentials to convince the Bolivian news to accept this story, it would surely be Rosa Perez.
I knew the outcome of this story being in the papers, but I also knew that it was the one thing to be done in order to gratify Alberto's childish and occasionally unreasonable whims.
After I came back to Equestria via the portal, Twilight Sparkle asked me, "Did you succeed?"
I told her, "Yes, I did, for now at least. The ball is now in Alberto's court. Let's see how he takes it from here. He has to learn to stand on his own feet."
"You're right there, Pinkie," said Twilight. "But he does need a lot of guidance still, lest he makes the wrong moves again. He's made wrong moves once too often, as we all know. So I suggest we continue observing his every activity until the Princess feels that he's ready."
* * *
ROSA PEREZ: Papa and I never got along well together from day one. I could tell that he had a reputation as an old-fashioned boss, considering the types of managers he employed to take care of numerous faculties in his multinational company. His attitude towards his managers and their relations to their lowly staff -- "Have no pity! Act brutally!" -- had creeped me out from the very start.
Many of Papa's employees came from the township of Estrela del Mar in northern Argentina; the most prominent of these included 22-year-old Benedicto Lee-Guzman, Papa's Number Two and also the General Manager of the entire All Lee Enterprises chain; and the young 19-year-old Dario Coleda, the Finance Manager, who had dropped out of school at a young age.
Under his wings, Papa had also employed quite a few local Bolivians. One notes his head cook, 23-year-old Chef Jaime Lozada of Callao in northern Bolivia, who is also an expert at disguise. Papa had also employed such Bolivians as his purchasing manager, 20-year-old Ramon Prada, an Inca from the township of Chaco; his advertising manager, 19-year-old Natanaele Duarte, another school drop-out from the township of Capo dal Santo who had been working as a showboy in various nightclubs for five years now; and the sales manager, 23-year-old Daniele Spintos, who came from La Paz and also served as Papa's head thief, stealing antiques for Papa's personal gain.
Papa's managers were not limited to just those from Argentina or Bolivia. He'd also gotten such equally nasty managers as the "Long Tall Texan" Alvin Matthew Simoneau, 22 years old, another advertising manager; his fellow Colombian Jose de la Cruz, also 22, a breakdancer who originally hailed from the village of Dunedain but now a decurion in the Bolivian People's Army, also Papa's assistant advertising manager; Monsignor Rafael Ruiz, also 22, a Jesuit priest from Venezuela, Papa's head chaplain; the Ecuadorian Cuartas siblings Natalia (22), Artur (20), and Alegria (19), Papa's directors of security; 20-year-old Saudi national Ali Baba bin Mohammed Firda'us, a bomb-factory owner who had helped Papa rise to power via the means of supplying him oil from his country; the Calcuttan native Bangalee Muthusamy, 22, Papa's head steward and also part-time advertising manager; Aussie-Asian Jeremiah Lee-Harper, 31, Papa's new Project Manager who had replaced Alberto; and the 24-year-old Kazakstani Saldi Saldiyevitch Grushevsky, a devout Sunni Moslem and a textile merchant who'd helped Papa design the uniforms of all the workers in his firm.
None of these managers ever had good relations with me. In fact their attitude to their subordinates really pissed me off. Papa had never let me see his workplace at all ever since I was a little girl; his original reason had been because I would "surely not like" that kind of work, which he claimed was "men's work". I'd believed him for a long time until word started going around about it. With Alberto's confession to me, I knew my suspicions of my father had surely been confirmed. Hence, I agreed to undertake Alberto's project.
The mention of Alberto's name and case had first come to me from this pink-colored horse who approached me to ask if she could sing at the next big fiesta in my nightclub. I asked her, what could she give me if I let her do it. That was when she told me about Alberto's case, and I jumped at the chance to finally do justice where it was truly needed.
I submitted Alberto's report to the newspapers. Of course they were initially most unwilling to accept it, but when I told them who I was, they reluctantly took the report and published it. The next day, it was in the papers everywhere in the nation.
Papa gave me a call and asked me to meet him at the Una Republica Ristorante, an open-air high society restaurant located at the roof access of one of our highest skyscrapers, an office building in La Paz. When I met him, I could see he had ordered my favorite dish -- honey glazed smoked duck steak.
"Yes, Papa? You asked to see me?" I said as I sat down.
"Woman, do you have anything to tell me?" asked Papa, smiling and taking out a copy of the article that had been published. "How do you explain this?"
"Papa, I've been wanting to tell you this for the longest time," I said, rather annoyed. "I never did so because I trusted you, being your daughter. But now, I think the time has come for you to hear what I have to say."
"Say it then, por favor," said Papa, still smiling and puffing on his cigar.
"I have not seen it, but for many years now I've heard word going round about the way you treat your employees," I said. "And now, thanks to my new friend, I have found out that the rumours were true after all. I cannot believe you kept such a big matter from me!"
"That cunt was asking for trouble!" Papa suddenly burst out at me, slamming the table and causing our chalices of brandy to break. "And I thought I already told you a million times not to interfere in a man's affairs, you slut!"
"The evidence was from a reliable source," I said. "Alberto was your ex-employee. I cannot believe that you ill-treated him and demoted him, despite him doing nothing but serving you long and well!"
"Don't you DARE mention the name Alberto to me again!" screeched Papa, his voice hitting a really high note for someone his age. "You already know well that he was asking for it! And, woman, I advise you to stop pursuing this matter any further, unless you want more trouble to fall on your head!"
"Rest assured I will continue to look into the matter and dig out further evidence to expose the truth!" I said, controlling myself greatly. "I am not afraid of anything! If you are not happy, just have me up again!"
I rose to my feet. So did Papa. For 30 seconds nothing seemed to happen. Then Papa slapped me with full force across my face. It hurt, of course; but I did not cry.
"If you're not happy, have me up," Papa echoed my words.
I turned to go. "Next week, you will have something else to write," said Papa; "you'll be writing this: Celebrity slaps his daughter in public!"
It was then that I finally burst into tears and headed straight for the nearest Ladies' restroom...
* * *
ALBERTO: And so, within two days I had found myself a new job. Rosa had officially made me a full-time barista in her nightclub. As I had nowhere to stay since Mama threw me out of the house, Rosa also allowed me to sleep in one of the dorms of her nightclub, giving me my own mattress and wardrobe to put my belongings. I could see that, being the owner of such a prestigious nightclub, she was clearly pretty well-to-do for someone her age; she was only 32, one year younger than I.
But there were a couple of things very distinctive about her that I'd noticed from the day we first met. One of these was her accent; she was clearly not from these parts. Another thing was her face. I have no idea why but it looked so damn familiar. What was it about her that made her look so sweet and gentle, yet so sinister and unpredictable? Was it something that many call "chemistry"?
A few more uneventful days went by. After work one evening, Rosa came to me and said, "Alberto, there's a celebrity here in Sucre who's celebrating his 80th birthday this evening. Would you like to go along with me?"
"Sure," I agreed.
This celebrity that Rosa spoke about turned out to be none other than an Argentinian businessman named Ferrando lo Pescadoro, who also hailed from the township of Estrela del Mar, which was only a few miles south of the Bolivian-Argentinian border; he now lived in Sucre, and was of Italian descent. What struck me about Ferrando lo Pescadoro was his surname; it was so rare, yet so familiar.
I soon found out why. Donita happened to be there, and she saw me with Rosa. "Hi," she said. "How have you been?"
"Good, I guess," I replied. "This is my new boss, Rosa. Rosa, this is Donita, my companera."
"Enchanted," smiled Rosa.
"Pleased to meet you," said Donita, addressing Rosa.
I politely excused myself from Rosa's presence, and went over to talk privately with Donita.
"Just a question," I asked Donita. "How come you didn't tell me your Papa was a celebrity?"
"As I mentioned, Papa is very strict," said Donita, "and normally he doesn't allow me to tell others who he is until and unless he knows them well. Even many of my former schoolmates still don't know who my Papa really is."
"Oh, I see," I smiled. "And I see you have a brother too."
"Yep," said Donita, who brought over her big half-brother. "This is Napoleone," she said. "And Napoleone, this is Alberto."
We shook hands. But when I saw Napoleone's face, I did not see the good characteristics that I'd otherwise have seen in Donita. In Napoleone's face I beheld lots of suspicion and furtiveness that could not be explained any better.
Donita pulled me aside. "Napoleone is 10 years older than I am; he's my half-brother from a different mother," she said. "Papa had two wives. The first, Napoleone's mama, died in a mysterious car accident of which the assassin still remains at large; the second, my mama, died of breast cancer 6 years ago."
I was so shaken by Donita's tragic story that I held her hand tightly.
Other than Donita, I also noticed a few other familiar faces. I could see that Francisco Juan Perez himself was among the guests, as was his wife Angela Guzman. Best part was, many of his henchmen were among his entourage, most of whom I certainly recognised all right. I knew the guy with the long chin was the Argentinian national Benedicto "Benz" Lee-Guzman, Francisco's adopted son and also the General Manager of All Lee; Justino Diaz, Benz Guzman's best friend and also the third-in-power in All Lee; Jaime Lozada, Francisco's head chef; Alvin Matthew Simoneau, that long tall Texan who did nothing but smoke opium and play "Jubeat" on his iPad all day; Jeremiah Adolpher Lee-Harper, that cunt who had taken over the very position that Francisco was going to give to me; and Huascar Leon, who had previously been eyeing Donita and ended up getting me involved in a manslaughter case in Las Palmas merely a couple of months before.
The time soon came for Ferrando lo Pescadoro himself to make a speech. "Muchas gracias todo el mundo," he said. "I'm so thankful that all of you have come here. I turned 80 yesterday and I am still in fine fettle even though I do have a walking stick. Much of the success I behold today is attributed to all who have contributed to Brony Pony Enterprises throughout the past 50 years since it had been set up. Gracias to you for your valuable contributions."
Applause from all sides. I just stood where I was, holding Donita's hand and gaping.
"My son Napoleone and my daughter Donita have been the most valuable pillars in the success of Brony Pony Enterprises," went on Ferrando. "Ever since my second wife passed away of breast cancer years before, it was Napoleone and Donita who have given our company the prestige it has today. Kudos to them too. And one of the biggest contributors is here today; I refer to Senor Benedicto Lee-Guzman, Senor Justino Diaz, and Don Francisco Juan Perez, the two top men representing All Lee Construction Enterprises -- and I see that they've brought their entire entourage with them." More applause and wolf whistles.
"May I have the honour, senores," said Ferrando, "to invite Don Francisco up here to say a few words. Don Francisco."
Applause again. Perez walked up onto the stage.
"Brony Pony Construction Enterprises was initially a rival company of ours," he said. "But after I married Angela, things began to change. I made things up with Ferrando, and supplied him with great financial aid. At the time, Brony Pony Enterprises was facing a major loss following great retrenchment. But I willingly supplied a few of my staff as well as lots and lots of financial aid. Today, after nearly 2 decades, I can see that Ferrando did not use that aid in vain. He has since become a very successful businessman. On behalf of All Lee Enterprises, we want to wish you a most blessed 80th, Don Ferrando. May the Lord grant to you and your loved ones his divine peace that surpasses all understanding all the years of your life."
Applause again. By this time, I could see that some of Perez's people -- notably Justino Diaz, Benz Guzman, Bangalee Muthusamy, and Huascar Leon -- were looking in my direction and seemed to be potting something. I trembled...
This party was just simply amazing. On the bright side, I could clearly see that Donita and Rosa were hitting it on with each other pretty well (the two of them being girls); also the food was excellent, and I'd never had a better tequila in years.
The sheer grandeur of Donita's residence also led me to believe that, hey, if I marry Donita, I'll be marrying myself into a family of great wealth -- and with it, everything a man of my standing would always be longing for.
Feeling like getting a puff for a minute (and seeing that my prospective father-in-law's speech was rather long-winded and beginning to get on my nerves), I politely excused myself and walked to the patio on the second storey of Donita's three-storey mansion. I took out a packet of cocalero cigars and began to puff away. My dream was beginning to take shape.
On the day when I see all the things I could be, When I've learned about true love that proceeds from up above. All my fears swept away in the light upon my way, When we'll earn our cutie marks, and discover who we are. Where the fields are green and wide, in a land so pure and fine, And we sing them songs that speak of makin' love.
No cursing, no parasprites, no heartbreak; you love me now, you love me now.. No nightmares, no neighsayers, no hacking; you love me now, you love me now.
In this life I have gone through the heartaches and tears, Sacrificed a lot of things, for our own security. But I've kept the flame alive burning bright in the night, So if you still love me true, we'll be hoping for a day When the wars and fights will cease, and the ponies dwell in peace, And we sing them songs that speak of makin' love.
For eternity, love is all we need, All we'll need to see us through.
Those thoughts passed through my mind as I gazed out of that patio onto the beautiful Andean landscape before my very eyes. Donita's house was certainly well located. And furthermore, everyone seemed to be in an unusually good mood tonight, this being a party. If there was any more appropriate time to propose to Donita, this would be it.
Suddenly, a familiar Argentinian-accented voice called my name from behind me. "Why hola there, Garcia. Haven't seen you for years. Have a cigar."
I turned around and saw him. Yes, HIM. There he stood, an all-too-familiar face, with that long pointed chin reminiscent of Che Guavera, gazing at me, holding out a brand-new and unused cigar, and smirking away. The very voice caused me to wake up to the harsh reality standing right there before my very eyes.
BENZ GUZMAN.
Yes, Benz Guzman. That was him all right.
"Vamo ya, have a cigar," he said, continuing to hold out that cigar to me. "It's free."
My mind flashed back to that fateful moment three years ago....
[flashback]
(February of 2010, at the lobby of a motel in Las Palmas)
I had just arrived in Las Palmas the day before, and was at a motel waiting for the chauffeur to pick me up and fetch me to my new job. I was expecting to see some casually-dressed Spaniard holding out a card with the name "ALBERTO GARCIA" printed on it in big bold letters.
But instead, this young, well-dressed Guatemalan man approached me. "Senor Garcia?" he asked.
"Si," I replied.
"Buenos dias," said the man, shaking my hand. "My name is Jovento Bajaran, and I am the Recruitment Manager of All Lee Enterprises. I've been sent to fetch you. A few of our entourage will be arriving soon."
"Gracias," I replied. An entourage. Hrrrrumph. Now this was something. Obviously this workplace I'd applied to work in, was most certainly no ordinary company by any means.
The entourage soon arrived. Almost all of them were already high-ranking managers in All Lee: Berlinella Ramerrez, Jovento Bajaran's wife and also the Assistant Recruitment Manager; Alvin Matthew Simoneau, the "Long Tall Texan" who served as the Event Manager; Antonio Tortilla, owner of a Mexican food stall and also one of the Culinary Managers; Justeno Alvarado Coleda, a flamenco dancer who was from my hometown of La Paz and now served as the Assistant Event Manager; and Jaime Lozada, the Culinary Manager.
It should be noted that none of them were from mainland Spain or from the Canaries. Those who had Spanish-sounding names were Latin Americans like myself; in fact Justeno Coleda and Jaime Lozada were all from my homeland of Bolivia. Indeed, Justeno Coleda was from the capital city La Paz, like I am. Sounds like I'm getting closer than ever to finding my real papa, I said to myself.
Jovento Bajaran and his entire entourage fetched me all the way in a huge limousine to the east coast of Las Palmas, where we found a quiet spot on the beach. Waiting us there were a few more members of All Lee: Huascar Leon, a long-serving but low-ranking Public Relations Supervisor; Enrique della Torre, the Public Relations Manager; Benedicto Lee-Guzman, better known as Benz Guzman, the General Manager; Justino Rodrigo Diaz, the Executive Assistant Manager cum Operations Manager; Jose de la Cruz, another flamencisto who served as an Assistant Event Manager (and would later become my decurion in the Bolivian People's Army); M Bangalee, the Stewarding Manager, a native of Kolkata in East India; Natano da Figueira, a Brazilian who was the Design Manager; Dario Coleda (no relation to Justeno Coleda), the Assistant Operations Manager; Monseigneur Rafael Ruiz (S.J.), the Chaplain; Paolo "Ace" Colombani, a Vatican citizen who served as aide-de-camp to Monseigneur Ruiz; Bjorn Lowenthal, a Norwegian bodybuilder who was a supervisor of events and Ace Colombani's inseparable friend; and Giacomo "Nevegiaco" la Furba, another event supervisor.
"Senores e senoritas," announced Benz Guzman, "our CEO, Don Francisco Juan Perez, will be arriving in a matter of minutos. But first, allow us to welcome our newest recruit, Senor Alberto Garcia."
Applause from all sides. I stood up and politely acknowledged it.
"Have a cigar, Senor Garcia," said Benz Guzman, taking a cigar and offering it to me. "It's free."
I accepted politely and started to puff.
"Senor Garcia is from Bolivia," went on Guzman, "and will be serving as our Project Manager from today. Have you any words, Senor Garcia?"
"Si," I replied. "I am very thrilled to be a part of All Lee. I believe that in all our future projects we undertake, we can do not a good job, but a perfect job of it all. All I need is your support. Then we will be moving in the right direction. Viva All Lee!"
Applause again. Then suddenly a short but commanding figure walked in, with his own entourage. It was an elder gentleman dressed in a tuxedo. Upon his appearance, everybody's eyes came off me and started looking at this elder gentleman. And with such a mixture of adoration, awe, and fear, that even I too was spellbound.
I knew that this was, of course, none other than Francisco Juan Perez himself. I just stood still and said nothing, waiting for him to talk.
"May I have your attention, por favor!" said Perez, in a voice that caused even the branches of the trees above us to shake. "Benz, is everypony with me?"
"Si, Don Francisco," said Benz Guzman.
"Now todo el mundo, listen up," said Perez. "Garcia is our newest manager. I hope all of you can lend him your support. I recruited him specially because I feel he is suitable to play a part in organising further business ventures into all of Latin America. We hope to monopolise all the clubbing businesses here in Las Palmas, as well as in Colombia, Peru, Ecuador, and Bolivia, and hopefully also Argentina Brazil, under our control. As you know, we have already set up numerous clubs in Colombia and Bolivia. It has been hard however, to venture into Argentina and Brazil due to the dangers of the Amazon. And after reading Garcia's resume, I feel he is the most appropriate person to take on this duty. He will discuss with every one of you as to his plans for our newest ventures in a few minutes. Por favor, kindly lend Garcia your support. Muchas gracias."
Applause again. Perez then approached me. "Garcia," he said, "would you mind coming for a moment for a private talk with me?"
Perez and I walked together -- with some nameless security guards of his, all with rifles and dressed in tuxedos like himself -- into his big mercedes benz limousine. As I got in, I could see Benz Guzman and the other managers still doing their own stuff. I suspected from there that they might be plotting something, though of course I was not yet totally sure.
The limousine took us to a huge building, All Lee Industrial Building, located in the Las Palmas Industrial Park. Perez took me to his office, upstairs on the second floor.
"Alberto Garcia," he said smilingly, "once again, muchas gracias for your voluntary offer to join All Lee. We cannot do without someone like you, with such a wonderful spirit of persistence. But before you start, we need to brief you on your duties."
"Er, senor," I cut in, "why isn't the General Manager here? Surely he's the one supposed to give me my duties..."
Perez stopped smiling. I knew that meant that I had to shut up, so I did so.
"May I go on, por favor?" said Perez.
"Si, senor," I replied.
"Muy bien," said Perez. "Now listen carefully, Garcia. As our new project manager, your task will be to supervise all aspects of the construction of various new nightclubs in Las Palmas, which is our latest venture. For lodging, do not worry; you and your companera are staying in the motel now, but we will provide you with better lodging, located near this workplace, where you will be working in. Like with all other nuevos, we will need to put you on three months' probation before we can confirm you...."
One month after the start of my stint in All Lee, I was already getting used to the working life; living in such a spacious executive-style apartment, and so near the workplace some more, was an added benefit.
However, it was also the time when I realised I was beginning to face resistance. Some of the workers were rebelling and complaining to my co-managers. The first such case occurred when Justino Diaz called me asked to see me one morning before I'd even to work.
I went straight to his office and sat down. "Si, Senor Diaz?" I asked.
"Garcia, there are a few things I need to tell you," said Diaz. "Firstly. The way you treat this workplace, is kind of like the way you treat your own home. I don't know what sort of background you come from, but no matter how poor you are, you should at least have some sense of hygiene. You don't go around smoking and then throwing your cigar butts all over the place."
I kept silent but nodded in acknowledgement.
"And what's more," went on Diaz, "the low-ranking workers have complained that you have creeped them out greatly. The way you talk, the jargon you use when you give them tasks, is oftentimes hard to comprehend. Your mannerisms have also played a big part in this. I don't know if this is anything to do with your upbringing or culture, but most of us here are also Latinos and are certainly not used to your creepiness..."
[/flashback]
All the heartbreaking memories came back to me like a flood upon my immediate beholding of Benz Guzman standing there before me, holding out a cigar. "Have a cigar, it's free..." -- caramba! The very same words! The exact same way he said it!
I took a deep breath, exerting great self-restraint. "No thanks, you can keep it for yourself," I said, trying my hardest not to explode.
"It's for you, it's your favorite brand -- cocalero," said Benz Guzman, pointing to the all-too-familiar brand name on the cigar packaging. "I specially bought it for you. Have a puff and all your woes will be resolved."
I was just about to lose all control on myself, when suddenly a familiar neighing voice beckoned to me from the ground level below. "Alberto! Jump now! Jump!"
I looked Benz Guzman in the eye. "Sorry, Senor Guzman, I have things to settle at home. Can't stay. Adios, amigo mio." And so saying, I turned around and jumped off the second-story patio, ready to sprain my ankles anytime.
But thank the Santa Madre de Dios, it was that grey caballo waiting for me just merely a couple of feet below -- the very same grey caballo with the bubble-like thingies on her butt, the one who had previously tried to stop me from delivering my report on Francisco Perez to the newspapers! She dived right under me when I jumped, catching me prostrate on her back (just nice); and with me lying prostrate on her back, she flew off.
"First you stopped me from delivering that report," I said, "and today you save my life?"
"That cigar in his hand was a bomb," said the grey caballo. "Good thing he did not ignite it. Had it been ignited in your mouth, you'd have been toast by now."
"Ah si," I said.
"By the way, Alberto, you can call me Derpy," said the grey caballo, smiling as she flew on with me still lying prostrate on her back. "I'll be bringing you to your home. Your mama's been worried sick for you these past few days."
And about time too, I thought. I hated having to live this lifestyle. However in my heart there was still someone I found it hard to give up -- Rosa. She had, after all, given me my first job in a long time, working as a barista in her nightclub.
"Who was that man anyway?" asked Derpy. "What did he want with you?"
"He just wanted to offer me a cigar," I said, rather annoyed, "and I turned him down flat. Does that help?"
"Perhaps I can help you find out the cause of your conflicts?" said Derpy, not apparently willing to back down.
"No," I said, "just kindly take me home now, por favor. Isn't that why you came anyway?"
Derpy dropped me at my hacienda. Mama was asleep, it seemed; so I just went to have an early night. I could not sleep so easily, however; the memories of Benz Guzman saying "Have a cigar, it's free" kept coming to mind, causing me to break out in perspiration and my teeth to chatter incontrollably....
* * *
DERPY: On being assigned once again by Princess Twilight Sparkle to check on Alberto's progress, I flew by his hacienda and was shocked to find that there was no sign of Alberto anywhere. Old Madame Garcia was standing at her window, wringing her hands and singing this lament:
You sheltered me from harm, Kept me warm, kept me warm. You gave my life to me, Set me free, set me free. The finest years I ever knew, Were all the years I had with you. I would give everything I own, Give up my life, my heart, my home. I would give everything I own, Just to have you back again.
I feared the worst. "Madame Garcia, what's up? Are you OK?" I asked, politely.
"My son's gone now," sobbed Old Madame Garcia, "and he hasn't come back for days. I hope nothing serious has happened. Mi caballito, if you can help me find my Alberto, I will be most thankful; I'll give anything, anything just to have Alberto back again!"
"Don't cry, Madame Garcia," I said, gently nuzzling the old lady on her tear-stained face. "Rest assured I'll find Alberto and bring him back to you in top form. Go and have a rest now, and take it easy."
Old Madame Garcia caressed me on my mane. "Little caballo, you are a comfort to me in my old age," she said, wiping her eyes. "You are probably one of those whom Alberto can relate to. Go and fetch him now, por favor."
"But, senorita..." I began, remembering that Alberto did have his reservations about us still.
"Just go and get him, por favor," repeated Old Madame Garcia. So I flew off to find Alberto.
It took me nearly all evening to find Alberto. It was not an easy task finding one person in a country of various landscapes. However, by late evening I found him standing on the patio of a huge house in La Paz, apparently gazing blankly into space.
Then I saw a man in a white singlet with the canton logo of Estrela del Mar on it -- obviously this man was from Estrela del Mar in Argentina, but I couldn't see his face clearly in the darkness -- who appeared to be joining Alberto on the same patio. I initially thought they were friends, but when I saw Alberto about to react in hostility, and the cigar in that Argentinian man's hand apparently about to ignite any minute, I immediately flew down and beckoned to him to jump.
After I dropped Alberto at his home, I flew back to Equestria through the portal -- it had been stationed by Princess Celestia in the middle of the forests of Eastern Bolivia -- and told Princess Twilight Sparkle what had happened.
"Mission accomplished, I saved him," I said.
"Good, come with me," said Twilight. "I need to tell you something."
"Sure," I said.
"That Argentinian man," said Twilight, "is the General Manager of All Lee Enterprises. Benedicto Lee-Guzman is his name, although most know him as Benz Guzman. Alberto is afraid of him."
"Yeah, and...?" I countered.
"He is the cause of all of Alberto's suffering in recent times," said Twilight, "because he is the one who has kept Francisco Perez in power all along. That night when Dashie and I went into Alberto's flat in the Canaries, we noticed something very unusual, which I think I'll need to bring up at the Grand Galloping Gala -- which is tomorrow."
"I'll come with you," I said to her.
The Grand Galloping Gala was highly successful, if uneventful. During the debrief, Princess Twilight Sparkle called a meeting with Rainbow Dash, Big McIntosh, Braeburn, and me. Two other male ponies, Noteworthy and Soarin Dash, also joined us.
"Well," said Princess Twilight Sparkle. "So ... how's the news from Earth? Derpy, would you care to share with everypony here?"
"OK I guess," I replied. "Alberto was about to get himself into another big brawl at a party the other night. It's a good thing I saved him just in time. The person in question was about to offer him a cigar -- in all sincerity he had put some explosives inside it -- and it's a good thing Alberto turned him down. But from where I was, I could clearly see that that person was about to force him to take the cigar and ignite it, in the hope that it might explode in Alberto's face and kill him instantly. So I knew that was the moment to intervene. And guess what? The person was none other than the General Manager of All Lee Enterprises."
"The General Manager of All Lee? You mean Benz Guzman?" cried Rainbow Dash. "He's a brony too."
"WHAT?!" I cried. "How do you know that, Dashie?"
"You may not have realised this yet, most of you at least," said Rainbow Dash, "but quite a lot of the All Lee managers are bronies. In name only at least. In reality, they are actually a bunch of terrorists who are seeking to overthrow the government in Bolivia and set up a neo-apartheid government. Have you not already realised that many of them are white Argentinians or Colombians?"
"So now the question is this," put in Braeburn. "Now that we know who they really are, how therefore do we expose those cunts for their wicked deeds? If we can do so successfully, I can pretty much guarantee that Alberto will stop hating us."
"I second that," said Big McIntosh, ever the pony of few words.
"Soarin Dash, you are one of the Wonderbolts' top graduants, just like your sister Rainbow Dash," said Princess Twilight Sparkle. "Do you have any ideas how we can help Alberto from this point?"
"OK, let's zero in on Alberto's history." said Soarin Dash. "Alberto, as we know by now, is not so much a devil in human form as he is a poor soul who has been trodden down by almost everyone he comes into contact with. The biggest heartache he's faced in his life is not with the All Lee people, but rather in his own family; he's been looking in vain for his father for the longest time. His stint in All Lee did not quite help him; in fact it only served to make him even more heartbroken. I believe Pinkie Pie mentioned to us before that what Alberto needs is approval. She also prophesized that he'd be ending up at the Yungas Road soon, though knowing Alberto's nature, we are not so sure about that. So let's focus on the key issue here: Alberto is unhappy. So the answer is simple: Make Alberto happy. Once we've made him happy, his morale will be boosted, then only can we talk about dealing with the All Lee managers."
"Well said, Soarin," said Princess Twilight Sparkle. "Noteworthy, have you anything to add?"
"Put it this way," said Noteworthy. "Not everypony who calls themselves a 'brony' is really one in deed. Case in point: Benz Guzman and company. Conversely, regarding everypony out there on Earth who claims to hate us, there's no guarantee that they won't become bronies some day. Case in point: Alberto. And I believe he DOES have brony potential. And lots of it at that. I think it just has to be put to the right use. And I believe all of us can do so. As to how exactly, I think we should leave it to Your Highness to plan it out."
"Gracias," said Princess Twilight Sparkle. "So this is what we'll...."
"Hey!" I cried, suddenly noticing Princess Twilight's usage of Spanish. "How come you're talking like Alberto all of a sudden..?"
"Listen, por favor," went on Princess Twilight Sparkle. "This is what we'll do. We'll bring ourselves down to his level. That's why you see I'm talking a bit like him. We'll give him something he'll never forget -- and on his big day some more!"
"Your Highness, what do you mean by his 'big day'?" wondered Braeburn.
"He has a girlfriend, doesn't he?" said Princess Twilight Sparkle. "Then that's the solution -- convince him to propose to her. And the big day is, of course, their wedding day! What a feeling!
"What a feeling! Being's believing! He will have it all now, the best time of his life! WIth a passion to make it happen, He will come on like he could dance right through his life!"
And so singing, Princess Twilight Sparkle galloped away to Canterlot castle.
"I guess she means the rest is up to us to plan out," sighed Rainbow Dash.
"Let me handle this," I said. "I think I know what to do."
* * *
ALBERTO: I came suddenly wide awake to the voice of Mama calling me. "Alberto! Que pasa?"
"Soy bien," I replied; "I just had a bad dream only."
"Ah, bueno," said Mama, as she stepped into my room. "As long as you're ok, I'm happy. Better get some sleep."
I remembered nothing more. The following day when I woke up, I realised it was already mid-afternoon and it was time for me to report for work! I quickly packed up my stuff and made a dash for the first taxi to Sucre.
Sadly, by the time I arrived, the time of my work shift had just ended. I was really really angry -- but what made me doubly angry was the fact that the "Carmen" nightclub was apparently no longer under Rosa's management.
"Who are you?" asked the head chef, as though he had never met me.
"Alberto, your barista," I said. "Don't you recognise me?"
"Sorry, senor, but I don't think the manager welcomes your presence," said the head chef. "Kindly leave, por favor."
"Bien. Let me see the manager if she's around," I demanded.
"Muy bien," said the head chief. "Wait a momentino." He went back into the kitchen and brought out -- Antonio Tortilla!
I recalled the time when Antonio Tortilla and I had gotten into a big brawl merely a few months before. It was the brawl that ultimately led to my dismissal from All Lee; the same brawl involved Natanaele Duarte, another manager in All Lee, a pro-communist who had been after my blood since the year before because of political differences.
"So! Garcia! We meet again!" boomed Tortilla. "And how may I help you today?"
"Where is Rosa?!" I demanded.
"I'm sorry, but she has resigned from this nightclub on her father's orders," said Tortilla. "I have since been assigned to take over, and I am sorry, but we do not recognise you as a staff. Por favor, kindly go before I call the policia."
"Sorry," I said as I ran out of the pub, frightened out of my wits. I knew that such a big man like Tortilla surely meant business, considering his tone of voice.
I gave Rosa a call. I knew she would surely know something about this; it was her pub all right, the very same design, same street, same everything; so how could it possibly have ended up in the hands of that cunt Tortilla?!
"Hola?" Rosa answered her phone.
"Rosa? It's me Alberto here," I said, "where are you? How come you aren't at the pub today?"
"Oh, Alberto! I was trying to call you just now," said Rosa, "but your mama told me you were asleep. Quick, come to the airport at Sucre; I need to talk with you."
"Si," I replied, and quickly grabbed a taxi to the airport, and met Rosa at the departure hall.
"I'm so sorry about the short notice," said Rosa, "but my Papa intervened and bought over the nightclub. I only found out about it this morning. Papa said he... er... wants me to go overseas for a while; see here, he bought me this plane ticket."
"So, you mean to say, your Papa is.... Don Francisco?!" I gasped.
"Sadly, yes," said Rosa, looking dejected. "I never once agreed with him. I also wanted my own revenge against him. But I never expected he was always one step ahead of me.... and now this thing about sending me overseas.... I tell you the truth, if I don't comply, he will not only kill me, but also you as well... he has the means to do so."
"Ah well, I guess for now there is nothing I can do," I said, "but I believe in one thing: wherever you and I may be around the world, however far apart, we will still do our best to bring your Papa to justice."
"I hope we can succeed," said Rosa. "Sorry if I let you down."
We embraced, and then I saw Rosa through the departure gate. I could see tears in her eyes as she turned round one last time to glance at me.
"She's gone," came a familiar feminine voice behind me. I turned and saw Donita.
"Donita! Mi amor! You came all the way to Sucre?" I gasped. "How did you know I was here?"
"I bring good tidings," said Donita. "Papa says he will gladly allow you to marry me, and give you a job in Brony Pony Enterprises!"
"What? Did I hear you right?" I gasped.
"The question is, do you want it?" asked Donita, smiling.
"Opposite of 'no'," I replied, smiling back.
"That means 'si'!" cried Donita.
"Si," I said. I grabbed her and embraced her in great joy. I pulled out a bunch of red roses and knelt down. "Donita," I said, "marry me?"
"I do!" said Donita.
No moment in so many years could have been happier for me....
* * *
FLUTTERSHY: The news spread round Ponyville like wildfire -- Alberto Garcia was to marry Donita lo Pescadoro. I was really amazed when I heard the news. Despite not having been that much involved in his life, I certainly had heard lots about this Alberto and his funny, if occasionally creepy, way of living his life.
I immediately went to see Derpy about this. "Derpy, you're the one whom I heard has had most contact with Alberto," I said to her. "How did you succeed?"
"Well, put it simply," Derpy replied. "His mom chased him out in a fit of anger. He stayed in his ex-boss's home for a few days. Then one night after work he went with her to a party where he encountered a few people he did not quite like. Then when one of them cornered him on a patio, I told him to jump, and he did -- and landed on my back. Then it so happens that in revenge, his ex-boss's father -- who is also his nemesis -- confiscated the nightclub from his daughter, and sent his daughter abroad to study. Then after his ex-boss left, Alberto's companera, Donita, approached him and said that her family consents to him marrying her."
"How sweet!" I said. "How did you know all this?"
"Observing Bolivia via way of a Crystal Ball in Canterlot Castle," Derpy replied, laughing. "And don't forget, the first half of what I said earlier, also involved me directly."
"Ah," I gasped. "Now I get it. So.... do you think that will be his problems resolved?"
"Actually, I doubt so," replied Derpy. "I kind of know Alberto's nature. He'll marry, and then get into a couple more scrapes. As you can see, his prospective father-in-law is Don Ferrando lo Pescadoro, whose business, the Brony Pony Enterprise, has benefited greatly from none other than Alberto's arch-enemy, Don Francisco Juan Perez. I have a feeling that Alberto's going to have lots of stormy days ahead after this marriage."
"And that is where I come into the picture!" suddenly came a male voice from behind us.
We turned around and saw Thunderlane. He was beaming. "As the pony who knows how to tackle the worst tornados, I will see to it that no such thing happens in Alberto's married life!" he declared boldly.
"I rather doubt it, old chap," I said, skeptical of Thunderlane's boastful nature. "At the rate we're going, you'd sooner end up creating more thunderstorms than clearing them."
"You don't believe me?" said Thunderlane. "Then let me refer you to my superior -- Rainbow Dash."
And just as he spoke, Rainbow Dash arrived on the scene. "Yes?" she said. "What's going on here?"
"Ma'am, they doubt my capability in ceasing all the storms in Alberto's married life," murmured Thunderlane.
"Well, for one thing, let me ask you this then," countered Rainbow Dash. "Are you aware that Alberto is still on the run from the Bolivian People's Army?"
"Now, now, here comes another pony trying to talk like Alberto!" I laughed, tickled at Thunderlane's sudden use of Spanish.
"It is amusing, Fluttershy," explained Derpy, "but we've got other things to think about now. Please focus."
"Now everypony please listen up first," said Rainbow Dash. "Orders from Her Royal Highness Princess Celestia: All of us have to continue keeping a close watch on Alberto from here. If the need arises, we step in. He is still a little skeptical about most of us, though it seems that he somehow has taken some sort of liking to you, Derpy; for what reason I don't know. But never mind, all of us, let us now proceed to Canterlot Castle to observe."
* * *
MAMA LUISA: On hearing about my son's proposal to Donita, I was overjoyed. Just about time too. They'd been together for not that long, but it was still about time, considering that more than a year of tarrying is already too long in our Aymara Indian culture.
A few days before the scheduled wedding date, I was called up by Don Ferrando lo Pescadoro to meet him at the ballroom of Hotel 81 in La Paz. Don Ferrando had said that he wanted to talk to me.
I came at the appointed time to meet him. Don Ferrando sat me down and ordered me a glass of tequila. "Senora Garcia," he said, "I am very enchanted that your son has been so kind as to propose to my daughter. And I'm also very happy to welcome another member into our household, namely your son Alberto."
"Oh, it's nothing, Don Ferrando," I replied modestly. "I am just happy that Alberto has found his true love at last."
"Hmmm," said Don Ferrando. "There are, however, a few favors I would like to ask of you, Senora Garcia, if you care to listen."
"Si, habla," I consented.
"Muy bien," said Don Ferrando, his face looking grave now. "As you know, our family is a well-respected business family in Latin America. Brony Pony Enterprises has shares in lots of nightclubs around Bolivia and Argentina. All my family are experienced and respected in this field."
"Si," I said, "but what are you...."
"Let me finish first," Don Ferrando interrupted me. "Because of our social status, the wedding is going to be a high-society wedding. We will have a family-members-only dinner banquet in this same hotel the night before the actual wedding day; and on the wedding day itself, the rites will be carried out in the Catedrale del San Pedro. Senora Garcia, you know most of our family are pretty high-society people, but your family is practically unknown in this field; so ...."
"So?" I was shocked.
"So I think that you should not attend the wedding," said Don Ferrando. "No llores, you will be more than welcome to attend the dinner banquet on the night before. Just not the actual wedding, por favor."
Don Ferrando's words cut me like a knife. To think I was not even allowed to attend my own son's wedding, for the sake of keeping Don Ferrando's family name high in esteem....
* * *
ALBERTO: The night of the wedding dinner, before the day Donita and I were to walk down the aisle of the Catedrale del San Pedro, was itself going to be pretty tumultuous. For starters, the minute we sat down to the feast in the restaurant of Hotel 81, I could already see that Mama did not look very happy. In fact, that's putting it mildly; I saw that she was in tears. But for auspicious reasons, I decided not to probe her about it, and concentrate on the dinner. By this time, other than Mama and myself, Uncle Ferrando was present, as was Donita.
The second blow came when Donita's brother Napoleone arrived with his teenage son, Alvaro, in tow. The minute I beheld Alvaro's face, I recalled an incident in 2009 when I was still an employee of All Lee....
The very beholding of Alvaro lo Pescadoro's face was enough to make me choke up the beef I had been eating. However, knowing that this was to be mine and Donita's big night, I exerted great self-restraint, trying my hardest not to puke. I do not know why, but for once I was hoping that los caballos de Equestria would come and deliver me, especially that grey caballito that called herself.... Derpy, or something like that..?
"Buenos dias, Uncle Alberto," said Alvaro, reaching his hand out to shake mine. "Como esta usted?"
Santa Madre de Dios -- that voice sounded so drattedly familiar too! The memories came back to me like a flood....
[flashback]
Back in 2009, not long after my official confirmation as project manager, I remember All Lee Enterprises was holding a Dinner and Dance at a barbecue pit at the residence of one of our workers near the west coast of the Canaries. As project manager, I had been in charge of a team of workers supervised by Huascar Leon, and it was that team of ours which was to be awarded by Francisco Perez for our hard work at this Dinner and Dance. That award never came, and you will see why shortly.
Huascar Leon and I met up at San Pedro Shopping Mall. A couple of the other managers soon joined us, including Bangalee, Natanaele Duarte, Justino Diaz, and Benz Guzman. We were talking and planning our route to Lake Titicaca when suddenly I heard a football chant from not far away. It shocked me; football had always been one of my pet hates, especially because I was afraid of getting a concussion on my head and ending up like Andrea Bocelli.
The chant was so damn loud, I think practically the whole continent could have heard it. It sounded like various Inca percussion instruments being played, especially timpani and cymbals; and extremely loud chanting in both English and Spanish. Apparently it was a passing open-air lorry full of football enthusiasts who were cheering for the English Premier League.
Buddy you're a boy! Make a big noise! Playing in the streets! Gonna be a big man someday! You got blood on your face! A big disgrace! Kicking that can all over the place! We will, we will rock you! We will, we will rock you!
I could not have had a worse impression of Inca culture at the time. Mama had brought me up to believe that the Kichwas -- as the Incas called themselves -- were war-like people who behaved barbarically everywhere they went, and loved to play noisy percussion instruments at such high holy days as Good Friday or Easter Sunday, not to mention individual grand openings.
I remember among the percussionists on that lorry, and shouting "Ole!" really loudly while playing a pair of cymbals, was Alvaro lo Pescadoro. That cunt. I already had a bad impression of him at the time. But what happened later was even more spectacular.
As I mentioned earlier, the dinner and dance was held in a barbecue pit near the West Coast, and hence it was in open air. While everyone was enjoying their food and tequila, suddenly....
"Help! Help!" shouted a worker. "The GM has been knocked out!"
Everyone's attention turned to the shouting worker. It turned out to be correct; a soccer ball had suddenly come in from goodness-knows-where and hit Benz Guzman right smack on the forehead, causing him to pass out on the spot.
"Quick!" shouted Perez. "Call the ambulance! We'll all follow him to the hospital at once!" Everyone immediately dropped everything and, when the ambulance arrived, followed it to the hospital via either their cars or public transport.
I tried to join everyone else to go to hospital, but Diaz wouldn't let me. "You stay here!" he yelled. I trembled, knowing that I was about to be wrongly accused, if not for the first time.
"Caramba! A fine fellow you are, Garcia!" yelled Diaz. "We were so nice as to invite you to this dinner and dance, and even award you and your team. And what do you do to us? You kick a soccer ball straight into your General Manager's head! Santa Madre de Dios!"
"Por favor, Senor Diaz; don't malign me!" I pleaded my case. "Por l'amor del Senor, I really don't know where that ball came from!"
"You know it and you know it only too well!" screeched Diaz. "You are suspended for two weeks!"
[/flashback]
Recalling all those painful memories to mind, I knew that I had been maligned that time. And something in me was telling me that Alvaro lo Pescadoro -- and maybe even his father Napoleone also -- had been secretly in league with All Lee Enterprises in setting up that trap for me so that I would end up maligned without reason. It was already four years and I was rather amazed that Alvaro had gotten away with it all. Nevertheless, because this was a joyous occasion, I decided to close one eye and just be polite.
"Bien, gracias," I replied, returning Alvaro the handshake. "Let's sit down and have some food," I went on, hoping to distance myself from Alvaro as far as possible.
Everyone sat down, and Uncle Ferrando drank a toast before we commenced dinner. After dinner, Mama told me she would be going home early, and not staying over at the hotel unlike the other guests. I was a little disappointed, but nonetheless I told Mama to go ahead first, and that I'd see her at the church the following day.
The following day, before we went to church, we had a tea ceremony in Uncle Ferrando's hotel room; tea ceremonies at weddings have always been our custom as South American Indians. All of us had to dress in traditional Aymara or Inca costumes for this ceremony, as always has been the case.
"Papa, have some tea," said Donita and I in unison as we knelt before Uncle Ferrando and offered him some green tea in teacups.
"Donita," said Uncle Ferrando, placing his hand gently on her head, "as of today, you are Senora Alberto Garcia. I hope you can be a good wife and companion to Alberto all the days of his life. Do be sure to keep him under your thumb. Do you understand?"
"Si, Papa," said Donita.
Suddenly I felt an unusual chill around me. Then a huge grip on my head, as though some bald eagle were about to pick me up in its talons. I looked up, and it was Uncle Ferrando, looking really really severe.
"Alberto," he said, with a hint of growling in his voice, "as of today you are now marrying my daughter, into my family, and will be living in my house. As a husband, I expect you to treat my daughter well. If she ever comes to any trouble of any sort, I will hold you fully responsible. Do you understand?"
"Si, Papa," I said, trembling more than ever.
The wedding itself, held later the same day at the Catedrale de San Pedro, was even more interesting. I remember I was waiting in the place along the aisle where the bridegroom usually stands. Then when the wedding march played, in came Donita, accompanied by Uncle Ferrando. All the guests stood up to applaud, as we all sang along to the famous Latino wedding march:
De la Sierra Morena, cielito lindo, vienen bajando, Un par de ojitos negros, cielito lindo, de contrabando.
Ese lunar que tienes, cielito lindo, junto a la boca, No se lo des a nadie, cielito lindo, que a mí me toca.
Aye, aye, aye, aye, Canta y no llores, Porque cantando se alegran, cielito lindo, los corazones.
Aye, aye, aye, aye, Canta y no llores! Porque cantando se alegran, cielito lindo, los co-o-o-ora-a-a-azones!
Suddenly, in the distance, outside the Catedrale, I saw a familiar face. I'd know Mama's face anywhere. She was coming up toward the entrance to the Catedrale, but was apparently being turned away by security officers who had been stationed there by Uncle Ferrando.
"Mama!" I called out. "Mama! Don't leave me here!"
Donita approached me. "Mi amor, let's proceed to the priest," she said, smiling.
But I was no mood to smile. I had not for one minute expected that Uncle Ferrando would have done this to me -- turning away my only biological kin at my wedding! I quickly dashed back for the entrance of the Catedrale, but Donita pulled me back, saying, "Let's go on with the wedding first! Settle other things later!"
* * *
DERPY: What we beheld via Princess Twilight Sparkle's crystal ball was amazing. Apparently Alberto's mother had been allowed to attend the pre-wedding dinner, but not the wedding itself. On the same day as the wedding, she'd tried to approach the church to watch the wedding, even if from outside; but the security officers stationed by Ferrando lo Pescadoro had apparently asked her if she was an invited guest, if not, then they'd have to ask her to leave. It was then that I realised the validity of my prophecy -- Alberto's wedding was surely going to commit him to some inevitable storms.
This was the time I felt that I might well need to approach Thunderlane and ask him for help. So a few hours later, I went to his house to see him.
"Alberto's in trouble again," I said.
"I thought he just got married?" said Thunderlane, startled.
"Yes, but it seems that the marriage isn't exactly very emotionally healthy for him," I pointed out. "Apparently his mother wasn't allowed to come to the wedding at the Catedrale. And you know how close Alberto is to his mother."
"Now that seems like trouble," said Thunderlane. "You've spoken to his mother before right? Well one thing I think I may have that you don't have: I speak fluent Spanish."
"Well his mother also speaks some English," I countered.
"Let me tell you more," said Thunderlane. "I know that Alberto, being a typical Latino Indian, loves dancing. He'll most likely be going to a fiesta tonight at a nightclub somewhere in downtown La Paz. I know there's some neo-flamenco fiesta there tonight. I'll go give him a surprise."
"Well, you may, but please don't overdo it," I begged him, "or you'll have to answer to Her Royal Highness Princess Celestia."
"Si, senorita! I'll prove to you now!" replied Thunderlane, smiling. And so saying, he burst into song:
Aye, aye, aye, aye, Canta y no llores! Porque cantando se alegran, cielito lindo, los co-o-o-ora-a-a-azones!
I admit I was a little taken aback at Thunderlane's ability to sing Spanish songs, while dancing and using his forehoofs as castanets (and his hoof-hairs as maracas) to accompany himself. Needless to say I was nonetheless convinced.
"OK, you win," I said to him. "You'll take over Alberto's case. But if you need any help, just call for me."
"Gracias, senorita!" laughed Thunderlane. I was somewhat scared that he might only end up making things worse, considering the fact that now he was so high...
* * *
ALBERTO: Donita and I went to another nightclub, this time in La Paz, to enjoy ourselves after the wedding. While I was disappointed that Mama didn't manage to come inside, I was still happy to have Donita as my wife.
The nightclub we went to was known as the "Gala Flamenca". This was a very interesting nightclub; we had all sorts of food and beverage there to easily last one from 10pm till 6am the following day. The featured performer was some entity called "Thunderlane". For a while I thought it was the name of the performing band.
The flamencistas eventually came onstage; a group of ninos from some school in La Paz. "Get ready to dance, Donita," I said to my wife. "I think this is the Thunderlane they're talking about. This group of flamencistas."
At the cue of their adult conductor, those ninos started playing. Then suddenly without any warning, a huge black caballo -- clearly a male -- walked onstage and began dancing to the flamenco piece. He had a blue-grey mane and a dark grey coat, and a Jupiter-like thunder bolt on either side of `his buttocks.
While I still had my reservations about caballos at the time, I had to nonetheless admit that this one was clearly pretty musically talented; he had a style with regard to his moves, also, his usage of his forehoofs as castanets and his hoof-feathers as maracas, only contributed to his extraordinary talent.
And as he danced, he sang a strange song.
Granada, tierra sonada por mi, Mi cantar se vuelve gitano cuando es para ti. Mi cantar, hecho de fantasia; Mi cantar, flor de melancolia; Que yo te ve-e-e-engo a dar!
Granada, tierra ensangrentada en tardes de toros, Mujer que conserva el embrujo de tus ojos moros. De sueno rebelde y gitano cubierta de flores, Y beso tu boca de grana jugosa manzana, Que me habla de amores.
Granada, manola cantada en coplas preciosas, No tengo otra cosa que darte que un ramo de rosas. De rosas de suave fragancia, Que le dieran marco a la Virgen morena. Granada, tu tierra esta llena, De lindas mujeres, de sangre y de-e-e-e-e-e.... sol!
Everyone broke into applause as the ninos and their conductor stood to take their bow, and the caballo did likewise.
"That was Thunderlane," smiled Donita. "The name of that caballo. He's a Clydesdale pegasus pony, and is trained in Latino dancing."
"Si," I replied, "but I have never heard that song before."
"Of course you haven't," said Donita; "because he wrote it."
By this time, after having had so much tequila, I just blacked out.
When I came to, I was in my hotel room again, and I saw Donita sitting on the other side of the bed -- but someone else was in the room caressing my face. It felt very furry to the touch, and it had a scent that was rather -- er -- vinegary, if I may use the word.
I looked up and I saw Thunderlane gently nuzzling me on my cheek. I was a little embarassed; I mean, this was supposed to be a private time between me and Donita; how did he get into our hotel room?
"You're fine now, Senor Alberto," said Thunderlane, in a clearly gringo accent of Spanish. "You had a drop too much just now, and your wife called on me to take you to safety immediately. According to her, you still have one more day before you check out of the hotel and move in to her house."
"Thunderlane rescued you just now after the dance," Donita added. "He and I brought you up here to rest. It's already 3:30am. How are you feeling now, mi amor?"
"Muy bien, gracias," I growled, still very zonked out after a whole night of partying.
"Tomorrow we're checking out," said Donita. "You help to bring our luggages down; I'll go get Papa's car and drive over to pick you up."
After all had been settled with the hotel staff and all our luggages had been packed, Donita drove over, and we put the luggages in and set back for the place which I would be calling home from today onward.
"Let's make love tonight," said Donita, smiling warmly. Her words, though of good intention, suddenly brought a horrific memory to my mind.
"Donita," I said, "there's something I need to share with you."
"Speak, por favor," said Donita.
"When I was in All Lee Enterprises," I said, recounting the incident where I'd been bashed up by Antonio Tortilla and Natanaele Duarte that led ultimately to my dismissal, "I was involved in a few brawls, one of which got me almost castigated in my groin by a few of those muchachos. Because of that case, I can't fulfill my duty as a husband."
Donita seemed to have no real problems with that. However by the time we arrived at our home, trouble was already brewing within. Apparently Alvaro lo Pescadoro had gotten himself into trouble again, and his father Napoleone had been secretly embezzling money -- allegedly a total of 82,000,000 quetzals! -- from the family's business bank account, in order to fund a possible escape route for Alvaro. News about the money disappearance had reached Papa Ferrando's ears long before we'd found out; and now the whole family, myself inclusive (now that I had married Donita), had to all be grounded for the day.
"Mil million bombas!" screamed Papa Ferrando. "82 million quetzals down the drain overnight! And after we started a new venture into Argentinian territory some more! What sort of family are you all?!"
"Papa, I really have no idea what happened," said Donita; "I was out with Alberto all day and all night after the wedding."
"YOU STILL TALK BACK TO ME!?" screeched Papa Ferrando, slamming his walking stick on the ground. "We're talking about 82 million quetzals here! And the only person who'd have any reason to do so is you, cheap woman!"
"Papa, be reasonable, por favor!" cried Donita. "I have not kept in touch with the business for so long since the time we got married! Don't malign me without proof!"
Papa Ferrando stood up and gave Donita a hard slap across the face. Such power for an 80-year-old patriarch. Normally I'd have intervened if it were anyone else; but because this was her father, my father-in-law, so if there was one thing that was necessary now, it was to just shut the **** up and not answer back.
"Papa!" cried Donita.
"The whole family shall not go outdoors for one full day!" proclaimed Papa Ferrando. "Todo el mundo, go to your rooms right now! AND HOP TO IT!!!"
I followed Donita to her room, knowing that it was a really sad time for the whole family. I comforted her, the two of us sitting on our small balcony of our room.
A few minutes of quietness passed. "Look!" suddenly cried Donita, pointing upwards.
I looked up and I swear I saw something flying by. Some two actually. I recognised Derpy. With her was another caballo -- wait a minute, it was a blue male caballo, not really familiar to me. It had wings, and on either side of its buttocks it had a yellow thunderbolt with white wings.
The two caballos stopped in mid-air just outside our balcony. "Alberto? How was the wedding?" asked Derpy. "This is my friend, Soarin Dash. He's going to be helping you through the first few days of your married life."
"Er... muchas gracias," I replied.
"Why do the two of you look so glum?" asked Soarin, smiling.
Donita wept on my shoulder. "Ask them to help us if they can," she sobbed. "Tell them everything."
"Si," I replied. I looked up at Soarin and Derpy. "Our family is apparently in trouble," I said. "Over the wedding period, 82 million quetzals were found missing from our family's business-only bank account, and Papa Ferrando accused Donita without producing any apparent evidence. I have completely no idea what is going on. Can you help us, por favor?"
"Well, for one thing, Donita was most certainly not responsible for the loss," said Soarin. "I mean, you all were out partying since after the rites at the Catedrale, weren't you? So surely it could not have been either of you."
"I think," added Derpy, "that Don Ferrando is most probably in a bad mood following the suden discovery of the money gone. Also, he's having acute arthritis, and may occasionally have certain unintentional outbursts. Maybe you may want to give him time and allow the culpable to expose himself or herself in due course."
"Take it easy, mi amor," I said to Donita, caressing her. "Te quiero."
I did not half realise what I just said, but it suddenly came to mind that for once I actually agreed with los caballos. Perhaps -- and perhaps only -- they could be the solution to all the hell I had been facing since my All Lee days...
* * *
SOARIN DASH: When Derpy assigned me to take over Alberto's case, I admit I was a bit muddled here and there. I knew Alberto was a weakling, so it was a little ironical that they should choose me, the one who'd last represented Ponyville in the Youth Olympic Games Triathlon three years before, to take on his case. Nevertheless, I agreed to do so, in the faith that even my contribution, however small, would still count.
Perhaps, I'd thought, the best thing to do would be for Alberto and Donita to leave Don Ferrando alone for now, as he was fuming. So I'd suggested to them that they should do so.
A few days later, I'd arranged to personally meet Alberto in one of the forests east of Chaco. But before that, I thought it would be best for me to call on one man -- Huascar Leon.
Something told me that Huascar's oldest of three kid sisters, Valeria, was in danger. Now I knew that Huascar and Alberto were still yet unable to get along; however, I also knew that, of all the staff in All Lee, it was Huascar who had the biggest heart, especially with regard to someone as difficult as Alberto. Furthermore, Huascar had been a follower of ours for 5 months now. If there was anypony who could give Alberto the help he needed, it would surely be Huascar.
I brought the case to Princess Twilight Sparkle and the two young ponies Snips and Snails. Apparently Snips and Snails had conducted independent investigations that had confirmed my suspicions: Napoleone lo Pescadoro had squandered away lots of money over a whole year because he had been womanising, especially since he was himself a widower; and his latest flame was none other than Valeria Leon, Huascar's younger sister.
With the approval granted from Princess Twilight Sparkle, I flew over to Huascar's residence, a high-rise apartment in the estate of Altos del Chaco, in the township of Chaco in east-central Bolivia. Huascar lived there with his parents Bernardo and Juanita, as well as his three younger sisters.
"Buenos dias," I said, flying onto his balcony.
Huascar looked amazed when he saw me. "Soarin?" he asked.
"Yes, the very same," I said, making sure to put on a smile when speaking to Huascar, as I was asking him a major favor. "I'm here to visit. How's things?"
"Muy bien, gracias," replied Huascar. "Come in, have a seat and some tequila. Papa and Mama are not home."
I flew into his flat and sat on his balcony, "So," said Huascar, pouring me some tequila, "how can I help you this day, Senor Soarin?"
"It's like this," I began. "Where's your sister Valeria?"
"She's stolen my laptop again and made clean off with it," murmured Huascar. "And she didn't even ask my permission or leave me a note of any damn sort. I half wish I could deal with her!"
"And that's precisely what you're going to do -- deal with her," I replied. "Are you aware that she has been going out with random men from random places? And that her latest flame is none other than -- the son of Pescadoro?"
"Que?! That muchacho Napoleone lo Pescadoro?!!" screamed Huascar, rising to his feet and slamming his chalice on the coffee table. "This time, I swear to the Santa Virgen Maria that I will kill BOTH Napoleone and Valeria, see if I don't!" And so, taking a huge dagger that had clearly been rusted due to its age, he stormed out of the flat. I gazed on after him, and then immediately flew back to Equestria to inform Snips and Snails.
"He's gone after Napoleone," I told them. "Follow him secretly. I'll follow close behind."
"Sure thing, Soarin," said Snips.
"We're with you all the way!" agreed Snails.
And so we flew through the portal back to Earth, being sure to keep Huascar within our sight....
* * *
HUASCAR LEON: At the time Soarin came to me, I was still a trainee in All Lee Enterprises and was bent on helping my then-boss, Francisco Juan Perez, get to the pinnacle of success. But I did not for one minute guess what was in store for me ever since Soarin approached me that day.
Valeria had always been a Papa's nina, spoiled by our Papa since young. She would always be the one to have the password to our home PC, and sometimes even access my Facebook and Steam accounts without my permission. The way she had always been spoiled silly by Papa, was enough to piss me off.
Upon departure of my house, I was approached by a DHL courier. "Senor Huascar Leon?" he asked.
"That's me," I replied.
"Here's a letter for you," said the courier, handing me an envelope.
"Gracias," I replied, as I accepted the envelope and opened it up. The courier took his leave.
Inside, I found lots of photographs, and an anonymous note (addressed to Papa) that said this:
Dear Don Bernardo,
Please be informed that your daughter has been secretly inviting random men to eat out at high-society restaurants with her and then leaving halfway without bothering to pay the check, forcing the poor soul who goes out with her to pay the entire check himself. We request that you take her in hand as soon as possible.
Should you have any queries on this, please feel free to contact Napoleone lo Pescadoro at this number (they provided a number here).
A friend
Clearly a private investigator on behalf of Napoleone lo Pescadoro had been assigned to check on Valeria. I certainly had reason to be pissed with Valeria about this. I took the photographs home and slammed them on my couch.
Just then, Valeria came in, the laptop in her arms. She was in tears.
"Quor," she said, using the affectionate Inca word for "big brother", "I'm sorry."
I stood up and confronted her. "How do you explain this?" I demanded, showing her the photographs that had been passed me in that envelope by that courier. "What were you doing with Napoleone lo Pescadoro?"
Valeria took a good look at the pictures. "You mean.... you hired a PI to check on me?!" she screamed.
"I have better things to do!" I shouted back. "These photos are from him! Napoleone himself told the courier to send me this! Have a look at this note!" I produced the note from the PI to show Valeria.
"Now look here," I went on, "if Papa scolds you for what you have done, I will disclaim all responsibility! And one more thing -- give me that damn laptop!" I shrieked, snatching the laptop from Valeria's arms.
Like a spoiled brat, Valeria spat on my face and walked out before I could even talk sense into her...
* * *
SNIPS: On orders from Soarin Dash, Snails and I followed Huascar secretly. He had apparently not gone further than the void deck of his flat in Altos del Chaco estate.
The rumours were true. Valeria Leon had indeed been secretly doing confidence trickery to others without her family's knowledge. She had taken her brother's laptop to play Team Fortress 2 with those random male strangers that she'd been arranging to meet at random restaurants around Chaco and Sucre. In fact, she had used her brother's Steam and Facebook accounts to add these random strangers on Facebook, only to block each of them in turn after the "date" she would have with each one.
"This," said Snails, "is the one thing we can do: to distract Huascar from his wrath against Alberto, by making him focus on his domestic problems. He's been so preoccupied with Perez and vengeance against Alberto, that he forgot that his sister was doing this to him all the while."
"Let's hope it works out," I added. "Huascar is the only of those All Lee people who truly has a heart. He'll be the one to bring Alberto to his senses, if nopony else can."
We brought word back to Soarin Dash. He gave us these orders: "The two of you need to focus not only on Huascar but also on Alberto. I'll put Snips in charge of Huascar. Snails, you take Alberto. I'll supervise the both of you. If either of you need backups, you can let me know."
Just then, Big McIntosh walked by. "Allow me to add something," he said. "If anything goes wrong, let me know immediately. Princess Twilight Sparkle just asked me to get involved if you face any trouble."
We nodded in agreement, and proceeded to plan our respective routes out....
* * *
ALBERTO: I had temporarily moved out of Donita's house back to Mama's house, hoping that my absence would cause the situation at home to die down, and seeing that the rest of her family -- especially that nephew of hers -- were somewhat creeped out by my presence and were all looking down on me.
Mama was a little shocked to see me back so early after my first night sleeping at Donita's. "Back so fast?" she asked me. "What happened?"
I replied to her, "Let's just say, sad movies make me cry."
"You're already 33, Alberto," said Mama, getting worked up. "It's about time you settled down. Donita is a good girl. Why are you walking out on her so quickly?"
"Mama, I already said just a few seconds ago that sad movies make me cry," I said, getting equally annoyed. "Now may I have some time to myself, por favor?"
I marched into my room and slammed the door and sat down by my window sill. I remember the night before I left Donita's place, I had told her that I had to go for a cool-off because I just could not seem to get along well with her family and vice versa. The words that Donita sang to me kept replaying in my head:
Don't know why, I'm surviving every lonely day, When there's got to be, no chance for me, my life would end. And it doesn't matter how I cry. My tears of love are a waste of time. If I turn away, am I strong enough to see it through? Go crazy is what I would do.
If I can't have you, I don't want nobody baby. If I can't have you, oh oh. If I can't have you, I don't want nobody baby. If I can't have you, oh oh.
Can't let go, and it just don't matter how I try. I gave it all so easily, to you my love. To dreams that never will come true. Am I strong enough to see it through? Go crazy is what I would do.
If I can't have you, I don't want nobody baby. If I can't have you, oh oh. If I can't have you, I don't want nobody baby. If I can't have you, I don't want nobody, I don't want nobody, I don't want nobody... but you!
It was then that I realised what I had done. I buried my head in my hands and wept.
Suddenly I felt something wet nuzzling me on my cheek. A high-pitched, neighy voice spoke.
"Alberto! It's me, Snips. I'm here to help you."
I looked up and saw a fat, turquoise-blue unicorn with an orange mane in my room. He had rabbit teeth and was smiling at me.
Normally I would have freaked out; but seeing how some of los caballos -- notably Derpy -- had saved my life before, I decided to be professional in my reply.
"Well, what tidings do you bring?" I asked.
"My boss, Soarin Dash, sent me to guard you," said Snips. "He says that you need to take it easy. Donita's young nephew is only a mischievous boy, so don't mind him. You'll find that he'll come to accept you in due course."
"Easier said than done," I replied. "Do you know what he did to me back then?"
"I sure know," said Snips, smiling; "at least my boss knows. He told me to keep an eye on you to make sure you go back to your wife. Even your mama wants you to stay with her."
"Let me be clear on this, young caballito," I said, sitting straight and looking Snips in the eyes. "Alvaro lo Pescadoro sabotaged me when I was in All Lee. I was about to get my achievement award, but that cunt kicked a soccer ball right into my then-boss's head -- and of all people I got the blame. I was framed for the win. Do you know how that feels?"
But before Snips could reply, we both suddenly heard knock at the door and Mama's urgent-sounding voice calling me. "Alberto! Come quickly!"
I quickly excused myself from Snips's presence and ran down to answer Mama. "Que pasa?" I asked.
"Apparently your in-laws have suffered a huge loss in money and intended to auction off their assets," said Mama, pointing to an article in the papers. "Is that why you ran away?"
"Mama, I already said, sad movies make me cry," I replied. "Why do you need to ask any further?"
"Well, because your wife was not responsible for it," said Mama; "it was your brother-in-law. He's currently being punished. Also, Don Ferrando just called and asked for you to go back."
Taking Mama's advice, I went to my room and packed my stuff again before returning in a cab to my in-laws' residence. I just never expected that worse stuff was to happen upon arriving there.
When I came in, no-one was to be found. I made straight for Donita's room, having to pass by Alvaro's room along the way. From within, I could hear Alvaro watching another match -- apparently it was Real Madrid vs Bayern Munchen, in which the former appeared to be winning -- and he was cheering them with that famous football cheer playing on his hi-fi set:
Ole, ole ole ole! Ole, ole!
I trembled a little and then knocked on Donita's door. She opened up. "Come in quick," she said. "Papa found out that my brother was responsible and is punishing him now. Nevertheless, Papa also mentioned that he would have to get Alvaro to safety. Mi amor, I know how much you hate football; but at least have some compassion on Alvaro, he's only a boy and still has lots to learn."
"Donita, I think Alvaro should be punished," I said to my wife. "You know that he framed me back then."
"Even then, should you still blame him?" cried Donita. "He's a minor and his responsibility is diminished, surely you know?"
"That I know," I said, "and so, with all due respect, I think his legal guardian, namely his father, my esteemed brother-in-law, should be punished to the fullest extent of the law."
"Alberto, Papa is currently in a horrible mood with regard to the lost 82 million quetzals," said Donita; "and it was not easy pleading with him to call your mama to ask you to come home. The last thing you'll want to do is provoke Papa. Alvaro is his only grandson by a male offspring, and he is the apple of Papa's eye. For the sake of our love, por favor, do not hurt poor Alvaro."
"Then tell me this," I countered. "I hear from Mama that our assets were all auctioned off. Are you going to let everything be auctioned off just for the sake of saving Alvaro?"
"Well, even if that were to be so, what is that to you?" Donita asked me. "Does not our love matter more to you than anything else in quel mundo, mi amor?"
I hesitated.
"Answer my question, Alberto," said Donita, looking me in the eye. "Tu me quieres?"
"Si," I replied.
"Then for the sake of our love," went on Donita, "are you willing to put aside every difference between your family and mine?"
"Let me be honest with you, Donita," I said. "The thing is, I do care. I know now that your family is very respected and honoured here in Bolivia. The last thing you and I want, is for your family's reputation to be tarnished because of Alvaro's wrongdoings. No matter how far he runs, the law will surely catch up with him and he will be caught sooner than you think. Better for us to be the ones to turn him in than for the law enforcers to catch him red-handed."
"But, Alberto...." Donita began.
"Tell me now," I demanded, "where is your brother?"
"He.... he is currently preparing Alvaro's escape," said Donita. "It's the only thing we can do now, credimi. Alvaro will need to go overseas and assume a new identity in order to avoid detection. And Napoleone is arranging everything at the consulate, sponsored by Papa. I thank La Santa Virgen Maria Madre de Dios, that the auctions of our assets were successful enough to replace the 82 million quetzals we'd lost. If it weren't for my suggestion of that to Papa, he wouldn't have called your Mama to ask you to come back here to stay."
Mixed feelings welled up within me; I was now not so sure as to whether I should laugh or cry....
* * *
BIG MCINTOSH: While Snips was observing Alberto, and Snails observing Huascar, I was assigned my own role, just given me by Braeburn -- to take care of Alvaro lo Pescadoro. News had arrived in Ponyville that Alvaro was going to escape Bolivia and assume a new identity, and that Alberto had his reservations about Alvaro's character -- partly because of the fact that Alvaro had once gotten Alberto into trouble in All Lee merely a few years before.
Everypony of us here in Equestria were aware of Alvaro lo Pescadoro's furtive character. For starters, he was an underaged gambler -- he was still one and a half years short of turning 18 -- and had never let his family know nuts about it. He was also a fanatic about football, a die-hard supporter of Real Madrid; and had already lost the family quite a bit of money in betting on the recent Bolivia vs Ecuador match, in which Bolivia lost 2-0.
Could it be -- and it wasn't for sure, but just a speculation on my part -- could it be that ridding Alberto of Alvaro's menacing presence, could be the solution to all the problems that the former was facing?
During the one night that Alberto had lived away from Donita following their marriage, I followed Alvaro lo Pescadoro incognito. I realised he was at a huge opium den in the eastern part of the outskirts of La Paz, where lots of slums existed. This opium den, it turned out, was run by some foreign expatriates from Syldavia, a small absolute monarchy in the Balkan Peninsula of Europe. It was known as "The Bracing Breeze", and it attracted lots of youths from all over Bolivia, mestizo and Amerindian alike. Not surprising that Alvaro, a hardcore gambler, was among those attracted there.
The sight I beheld when I saw Alvaro, was just beyond verbal description. Alvaro had apparently tried to gamble with a couple of Syldavian youths who were sons of expatriates. The Syldavian youths were led by two hot-headed young boys; their names were were Yemile Czarlitz and Nikolai "Niko" Staszrvitch, and both were experts at in-line skating, each having been the youth champions of the Syldavian skating contests twice before due to their excellent "triple axels" -- and here they were, squandering away their winnings from the championships on gambling.
Alvaro and his men were standing on one end of the gambling table, about to play a round of poker. On the other end, stood Czarlitz and Staszrvitch. 20-year-old Czarlitz was blond and a lanky six-footer, while Staszrvitch, only 17 years old, stood five feet four in height and was brown-haired. Both youths looked like kids half their age.
"OK!" shouted Alvaro. "Let's get ready! Loser will have to dunk himself on the head with three liters of tequila!"
"You're on, Don Alvaro!" shouted Staszrvitch. "Let's see which country produces the better men!"
The group of Syldavian youths broke suddenly into the chorus of their national anthem:
Syldavians unite! Praise our King's might; The scepter his right!
"OK, come along children, playtime is over now!" Czarlitz silenced his compatriots. "The game is about to start!"
The game proceeded furiously, with both Alvaro and Staszrvitch dealing out the cards as quickly as they could. I admit I know nuts about gambling myself; however I do know that the picture cards have values, in ascending order being jack, queen, king, and ace.
I did notice toward the end of the round, Alvaro had a full hand of two jacks, one queen, and two kings. Staszrvitch turned over his five cards -- two jacks, one queen, one king.... and once ace.
"Sorry, Don Alvaro; I'm just that wee bit luckier than you," smiled Staszrvitch. "Please keep to the agreement that you yourself proposed, por favor." His Balkan-accented Spanish could have made Thunderlane laugh.
Alvaro opened three bottles of tequila and poured them all on his head. He then nodded to his men.
"KILL THEM!" shouted one of Alvaro's men. The Syldavian mob and Alvaro and his men immediately broke into a fight, as they sang:
Don't get too close to me! Don't overreact! You're not the enemy as a matter of fact! You got your pretty face and you got anything you want; Gotta stick by you, gonna stumble over what to do!
I want it, good loving! Wanna be your plaything! I want it, good loving, bring out the beast in me! I want it, good loving! Wanna make your heart sing! In the shadows we are free and I take you through it!
It's my neighborhood, that's where I belong; You're in trouble if you disagree with me! It's my neighborhood, that's where I belong; You'll find out why!
I nearly burst out laughing; to think those people could still sing as they battled. But nonetheless, tragedy followed. The entire Bracing Breeze nightclub was eventually in ruins. Alvaro and his mob got away somehow in the midst of the commotion, and separated for the night; I saw Alvaro hail a cab back to his home. I continued to follow him incognito.
Alvaro was apparently badly wounded, bleeding from his right ear after having been punched by Staszrvitch. When he got home, I found that his father Napoleone, as well as his aunt Donita and his grandfather Ferrando, were quick to rush to his aid; all of them, clearly oblivious to the fact that he was ultimately the reason for the 82 million quetzal loss, were spoiling him silly.
I overheard Don Ferrando saying, "Do not worry, Alvaro mio; we will surely find a way out for you. Go to the emergency bunker immediately and stay there." Alvaro did as he was told.
Don Ferrando then turned to Don Napoleone, saying, "Sell all the shares we have, and use the money from the auction to send Alvaro to a distant land where he may assume a new identity. We don't want any further trouble from the police."
He spoke just in time. There was a knock on the door of Pescadoro Manor. Two plain-clothes policemen came in looking for Alvaro. Don Napoleone defended his son and his family by saying that Alvaro was not at home at the moment. After the policemen left, I looked around the manor for where that bunker could possibly be, still keeping incognito. I eventually found it, hidden beneath the grass in the back-yard garden of the manor; it was after all up high in the hills, so it was pretty easy to build emergency underground shelters like that.
I brought the word back to Braeburn. "Well. You got more information than I'd expected, Big Mac," he said. "Now as you can see, it is pretty clear that the reason why Alberto can't get along with his in-laws, is because of Alvaro lo Pescadoro, his nephew. Until and unless the situation is resolved, Alberto may not have peace, because Alvaro is certainly going to harden his heart and continue his furtive acts; and poor Alberto, who is already looked-down-on enough by his in-laws as it is, is going to once again get the blame. It's just another human sign, as you can see.
It's a human sign, When things go wrong, When the scent of her lingers, And temptation's strong.
Into the boundary, Of each married man; Sweet deceit comes calling And negativity lands.
Cold cold heart, Hard done, it's true. Some things look better baby, Just passing through.
And it's no sacrifice, Just a simple word; It's two hearts living In two separate worlds. But it's no sacrifice, No sacrifice, It's no sacrifice at all.
Mutual misunderstanding, After the fact Sensitivity builds a prison, In the final act.
They lost direction, No stone unturned; No tears to damn them When jealousy burns!
Thus Braeburn softly sang, as he put his hoof on my right flank. "Be prepared," he said, "now is not the right time to intervene, but be prepared. The minute Alberto is told to hit the road, that's where we step in." He gave me a friendly wink...
* * *
ALBERTO: Donita failed to see my point. In the end I was really disappointed, but I kept it to myself. However, trouble came much faster than expected.
I burst open Alvaro's room door, in the hope of exposing him. But he was not there; his TV was on, and the "cheering voice" that I'd heard earlier was actually a pre-recorded voice. Apparently the police had come the other night looking for Alvaro and my brother-in-law had told them that he was not at home. I knew Alvaro had to be hidden somewhere here, because his very showing of his face anywhere would surely get the cops after him.
When everyone had gone to sleep that night, I tiptoed around the house secretly, hoping to expose Alvaro's hideout. No, he certainly wasn't in the house; I was sure about that. There was, however, a little bit of a hollow sound when I walked over a certain part of the backyard.
It was official; Alvaro was hidden there. I opened up the hatch in the ground -- dirtying my whole body in the process -- and went inside. Well, at least I tried to go inside; but after only a few steps climbing down, I felt a whack on my head and then I blacked out.
When I came to, it was daytime, and I found myself bound and gagged, dangling in mid-air by a rope tied on the branch of a huge tree, that hung over a high precipice that overlooked Lake Titicaca. There, standing right in front of me, was Alvaro lo Pescadoro, holding a knife.
"The game's over, amigo," he smiled. "You bronies have dominated my family so long. It is about time you plunge to your death!" He laughed a laugh that made me tremble all over.
I felt around me. The rope wasn't half as tight as I'd expected. Besides, having worked as a manual laborer for so long, this would be nothing to me.
As Alvaro put his stiletto next to the rope in the hope to cut it, I used my head and head-boxed him away, then using my intuition, I broke the rope and jumped at the right instant -- just nicely onto the precipice. "Now tell me," I said to Alvaro, "why did you do this?"
Alvaro did not reply, but he rushed at me, and the two of us got into a duel, neither of us gaining on the other, but I admit I had a hard time defending myself. Suddenly we heard sirens in the distance.
"Come with me! Aqui vamos!" screamed Alvaro, gagging my mouth with his hand and dragging me -- yes, he had pretty much a good physique for someone his age -- and pushed me into a lorry, apparently the property of Brony Pony Enterprises, his family business. Alvaro bound me and gagged me again, much tighter this time; and for a few minutes I was defenseless.
We soon found out that the entire Pescadoro family, as well as the local police, were after Alvaro and me. Alvaro drove faster and faster away from them. Suddenly, just when I'd thought all was lost, I heard a familiar neighing sound in mid-air.
I looked up and saw Derpy. She was flying down, her eyes squinted as usual. "I'm here to save you!" she neighed, as she nibbled my ropes loose. Upon finding myself free again, I knew the time had come for me to get physical with Alvaro.
"No, Alberto! NOOOOOO!" yelled Derpy. But it was too late. Alvaro and I were already engaged in physical combat. Unfortunately for me, Alvaro was a lot fitter, younger, and thinner than I; he easily gained on me. In desperation I took out my revolver as a last-resort, but he kicked it to the floor and grabbed it. "Too late!" he proclaimed.
"Now look what you've done, Alberto; you've rendered my efforts futile!" cried Derpy. She flew away with those words.
I raised my hands as Alvaro pointed the revolver -- MY very own revolver -- at me. "Muy bien! Hands up!" he said, smiling triumphantly. "And don't bother looking at your caballo friend, she's gone. Just be a good Uncle and go where I tell you to go. Walk straight!" he ordered, pointing his gun at my head every step of the way. Alvaro forced me to walk, with my hands raised, all the way back to the precipice.
"Bolivian police!" came a sudden shout from behind. "Surrender! Alvaro lo Pescadoro, you are surrounded!"
I had no time to react. Alvaro grabbed me by the mouth and put the revolver to my temple. "Don't come any closer!" he yelled, "or I swear to La Santa Madre de Dios that I will KILL him and all of you and myself!"
While my mouth was gagged by Alvaro's muscular hand, I could still see the Bolivian Special Operations Police officers coming up with sniper rifles in their hands, and also my wife and in-laws, all looking really desperate.
"Alvaro! Be a good boy and hear me out!" said Napoleone, my brother-in-law. "I've already arranged for your passage. If you kill yourself, you'll be ruining your chance!"
"I give you all a final warning!" yelled Alvaro. "Stand back or I will KILL you all today! And put down your guns!"
The police officers put down their guns; but suddenly without any warning, some yet unidentified stray bullet from goodness-knows-where landed very near us, shocking both Alvaro and me -- so much so that both of us accidentally fell off the precipice into Lake Titicaca. I could hear the shocked gasps of my in-laws in the background as we plunged.....
* * *
DERPY: Alberto's stubborn behavior made me doubt his credibility. It was his own doing that led him to what would happen later.
The "stray bullet" was actually me, hiding behind some bushes and shooting out a half-chewed date which I'd been nomming on from a nearby tree to the lake. If I hadn't done so, Alberto would probably have been killed by Alvaro long ago. It was the one way to save him from Alvaro's grip. While I was disappointed in Alberto's stubbornness, I nevertheless was bent on saving his life come what may.
Nevertheless I admit that I did somewhat miss the right point a little. Had I hit the right point, Alberto would not have fallen off the precipice together with Alvaro his nephew.
I flew over from where I had been hiding and saw the two blood-stained bodies lying on some rocks jutting out from the lake. While Alvaro was most certainly dead beyond words, Alberto was still hanging on to life. I carefully picked him onto my back and then flew over to a small clearing in the forest, where I revived him successfully with a few affectionate nuzzles.
"Donde.... estavo?" asked Alberto, as he came round.
"Don't worry," I said. "You're safe and sound now. You'll need to go back to your wife soon."
"I.... love .... Donita," murmured Alberto, who was clearly very weak from all that had just happened.
"Take it easy," I said, nuzzling Alberto again on his cheek. "You'll be fine. I do need to inform you though, that Alvaro is dead."
Alberto looked a little grief-stricken at those words I'd just uttered.
"Come, stand up slowly," I urged him. "You'll need to go back and see your wife and comfort her."
Alberto slowly stood to his feet, and while I knelt down, he climbed onto my back and we flew off back to Pescadoro Manor. After I dropped Alberto off there, I went back to Equestria to give word to Big McIntosh, Braeburn, Snips, and Snails.
"You did well by reviving Alberto," said Big McIntosh, "but sadly I don't think anypony could have saved his nephew. Alvaro Pescadoro was himself a delinquent all right. I honestly was a little shocked that Napoleone Pescadoro and his son Alvaro had been hiding this from the authorities all along, and when the law finally caught up with them, this just had to happen."
"Was it you who regurgitated that date out at them both?" Braeburn inquired me.
"Yeah," I replied. "It was the only way to save at least one person's life. If I hadn't done so, Alvaro Pescadoro would most likely have done what he'd promised -- to kill his uncle Alberto, his whole family, and himself. Furthermore, had Alberto just run away with me and not stayed to get physical with Alvaro, things would not have turned out so tragically."
"Well, to add to that, I discovered that they did have a secret chamber in Pescadoro Manor," said Big Mac. "It was a place where Napoleone lo Pescadoro would hide his son whenever the authorities came looking for him. And now -- the son died as a result of his own actions. Serves him right."
"Wait first," said Snails. "Derpy, what happened to Napoleone?"
"I believe the police are looking for him, because he is after all Alvaro's legal guardian under the law," I replied.
"So I guess Alberto's going to get it big time," put in Snips.
"From what I see, most likely so," I agreed. "After all, it was mainly his stubborn and hostile nature that caused this to happen. As I mentioned earlier, he could have just flown off with me after I freed him from those ropes, but he chose instead to stay and fight with his own nephew. Now Alvaro is dead as a result of Alberto's stubbornness. So don't be surprised if something tragic happens in his marriage."
"Tell you what, I'll take over Alberto's case from here," said Big Mac. "I think I know what to do."
* * *
ALBERTO: After Alvaro lo Pescadoro's death, things were no longer the same for me. Derpy dropped me outside my in-laws' home, and I knocked on the door. No-one answered, so I just opened the door and went in.
Papa Ferrando was quietly sitting on the sofa, dressed in black and drinking hot green tea. Napoleone my brother-in-law was at the dining table reading the obituaries, and my beloved wife was in the kitchen cooking hot porridge. No-one was saying a word to one another. It was a really tragic moment, and I could clearly understand why. "Papa Ferrando," I said, walking over to my father-in-law, "would you like me to buy you some food?"
Papa Ferrando said nothing in reply, but looked at me with a severe glare that clearly showed how he felt about me.
I turned and went to Napoleone. "Kor," I began, but Napoleone turned and walked away without saying a word.
The only one I had left now was my wife. "Donita," I said, walking up to her, "what's going on?"
"YOU STILL HAVE THE CHEEK TO ASK?!" Donita burst out suddenly, completely upstaging me. "You already know everypony is very pissed off with you, so why don't you just make yourself scarce, for goodness's crying out loud?!!"
I retired to my room and sat down looking out the window. A few minutes later, Donita opened the door and came in.
"What sort of husband are you?" she asked me. "You don't even care a bit about our family; what help have you given us, tell me?! A little bit of scolding from Papa, and you run away back to your Mama -- what kind of husband is that?!! And today my nephew Alvaro, who was YOUR nephew too, is now dead because of YOUR stupidity! I honestly curse the day I first met you!"
"But Donita, por favor..." I tried to say.
"Get out!" screeched Donita, her tensed index finger pointing at the door.
"Escuchame Donita, yo te quie...." I pleaded.
"AAAAAGGGGHHHHH!!!" Donita just managed to scream -- purple with rage.
Papa Ferrando and Napoleone came into our room and burst into song together with Donita:
Hit the road Jack, Don't come back no more, no more, no more, no more! Hit the road Jack, Don't come back no more!
Knowing they meant business, I pleaded:
Now baby, listen baby, don't you treat me thisaway; Cos I'll get back on my feet someday!
To which Donita replied:
Don't care if you do, cos it's understood; You ain't got no money, you just ain't no good!
It was clearer than any other words that she wanted me to pack up my things and go. As the singing voices of my in-laws faded into the distance, I took the first train away from Pescadoro Manor back to my old hometown of La Paz.
While on the train, I did some soul-searching. I could clearly see that my life was a waste. All the efforts I had taken with Donita over the past years had all proven all but futile. I sang of my feelings.
Got on board a westbound 747, Didn't think before deciding what to do. All that talk of opportunities, TV breaks and movies, Rang through, sure rang through.
Seems it never rains in southern California. Seems I've often heard that kind of talk before. It never rains in California, but girl don't they warn ya: It pours, man it pours.
Out of work, I'm out of my head, Out of self respect, and out of bread, I'm underloved and underfed, I wanna go home! It never rains in California, but girl don't they warn ya: It pours, man it pours.
I reached home crying. Out of work, out of love, out of everything. Mama greeted me at the door. "Alberto! Que pasa?" she asked.
"Muy bien, gracias," I answered, walking straight into the hacienda without bothering to look Mama in the eye.
"Vamo ya, Alberto, you're in tears," said Mama, "are you really muy bien?"
"I just think," I said, "that I need some time to myself. Kindly allow me, por favor."
I went into my room and sat down to cry. While alone, I heard a hoof-sound tapping on my window sill. Though this one did not sound very familiar to me.
"Come in," I said. "The window's open."
A big red caballo -- a male -- stepped into my room. "Alberto, you ok?" he asked me.
"Si," I replied. "E como tu te llamas...?"
"I'm Big McIntosh, but you can call me Big Mac," said the red caballo, gently nuzzling my tear-stained face. "I'm here to tell you that you're fine. The Pescadoro family actually did have dirt on their minds with regard to Alvaro. It was clear that they loved him more than they love you. They had never intended you to be their successor."
"So... how can you help me?" I asked, still very grief-stricken.
"Well, I saw in your local newspaper ads that there's a game show coming up soon in your town," said Big Mac. "First prize will be a trip to Syldavia. Hopefully the temperate climate there will be of some help to your emotions, and you'll find more job opportunities there. Would you like to take part in the game show to win the trip?"
Now THAT sounded familiar. "You're referring to the Pyramid Game?" I asked.
"That's the one," said Big Mac. "All you need to have for this game show is general knowledge, which I think you have a lot. Go, take part in it. This is your big chance to prove yourself."
I immediately took out my mobile phone to dial the Corporacion Media de Bolivia....
"Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to the first episode of the very very first season of The Pyramid Game Bolivia!" announced TV host Jon Bon Jovi.
Being on a game show on national television was a wonderful feeling; what made it even better was the fact that the winning prize would be a trip to Syldavia. And what could be better for me now than such a trip -- to get away from all the hustle and bustle here in Bolivia. The said game show, the well-known Pyramid Game, was a game that -- as that caballo Big Mac had said -- would test one's general knowledge. Little did I realise, however, what would be in store for me on the game show.
The first thing I realised was that my opponent in this game was Huascar Leon, who had been my arch-enemy for an extended period of time. Huascar was 11 years younger than me but certainly was very gifted in the knowledge of many areas, especially drawing and visual art. As I'd mentioned before, he was also from the Inca tribe, traditionally the sworn enemies of our Aymara tribe.
So there we stood on our two podiums, with Jon Bon Jovi alongside us, and an audience of practically the whole nation.
"Thank you all! Muchas gracias!" boomed Jon Bon Jovi. "Allow me to introduce our two contestants! On my left, Huascar Leon from Chaco!"
"The greatest!" shouted everybody.
"And on my right, Alberto Garcia from La Paz!" announced Jon Bon Jovi.
"Indomitablest" cried the people.
"But of course!" I boasted. "Thank G-d I'm nothing like los Incas who..." I stopped in mid-sentence because Huascar raised his fist at me, about to hit me.
"OK, the two of you, please don't let's fight here on TV," Jon Bon Jovi said to both of us. Huascar, in a fit, went back to his podium. I stayed at mine.
"So now, the two of you get ready!" ordered Jon Bon Jovi. "The first question goes like this: There is a famous novel about a priest who goes to look for scrolls in India. What was the name of that novel?"
Of course I knew the answer; but somehow Huascar's hand shot up faster than mine. "Er... Jon, what's the first word of the novel's name?" he countered. The audience doubled up with laughter.
"'Viaggio'," replied Jon Bon Jovi.
"Er... Is the novel's name 'Viaggio a Reims'?" asked Huascar.
"Ho, ho, ho! No, no, no! The right answer is 'Viaggio al West," said Jon Bon Jovi.
"Senor Bon Jovi, he doesn't want to say 'West' because he has his reservations about Western-minded people!" I interrupted. Huascar glared at me.
"Please, the two of you, stop fighting!" said Bon Jovi. "OK, next question!"
I knew I had to somehow get ready for this one if I was going to be first to answer it.
"Complete the proverb," said Bon Jovi. "Laugh and the world laughs with you. Cry and...?"
I was first to shoot my hand up. Yes! This was my chance to get it right. Though I do confess that this riddle was a lot harder than I thought....
"Could you repeat the question again, por favor?" I requested.
"OK," said Bon Jovi. "Laugh and the world laughs with you, cry and...?"
"Laugh and the world laughs with you ... do you mean, laugh out loud until the whole world can hear?" I asked, getting confused by JBJ's gringo English.
"It is a figure of speech!" cried Bon Jovi. "You're taking it too literally! Treat it like a comparison. Laugh and the world laughs with you, cry and ...?"
"Laugh and the world laughs with you," I said, "cry and.... you have to blow your nose!" I finished rather triumphantly.
"Ho, ho, ho! No, no, no!" said Bon Jovi. "The right answer is 'Laugh and the world laughs with you, cry and you weep alone'!"
"Garcia, just a word of advice," said Huascar, smiling cynically and putting his hand on me. "If you don't have any standard of general knowledge, I suggest you don't take part in this kind of game the next time."
"OK, the two of you, playtime is over now!" announced Bon Jovi. "Now on to the next question!"
I gritted my teeth.
"Listen carefully," said Bon Jovi. "This is another complete-the-saying question. Listen up: 'I ain't gonna be just a face in the crowd...' Complete the sentence please."
Wow, I beat Huascar to it in raising my hands first again! However this question was tougher than the other one. "Er... no se?" I answered.
"What? You mean you don't know?" cried Bon Jovi. "Then what for did you raise your hands? Oh man..."
Suddenly Huascar raised his hand. "Yes, Huascar?" said Bon Jovi.
"Can you ask the question again por favor?" said Huascar.
"Listen carefully," said Bon Jovi; "'I ain't gonna be just a face in the crowd...' Complete the puzzle."
Huascar took a deep breath and answered, "... but you're gonna be in my cooking pot!" He did seem very sure of himself.
"Ho, ho, ho! No, no, no!" said Bon Jovi. "You're totally off topic there!"
"Si, si, los Incas are always off topic!" I mocked. Huascar raised his fist in a gesture of hostility, but Bon Jovi pointed at him, clearly meaning business, so Huascar grudgingly put his hand down.
"OK, Question Number 4," said Bon Jovi. "Listen carefully: What is every school student's favorite catchphrase?"
Again I beat Huascar to it in raising my hand! "Yes, Alberto?" said Bon Jovi.
"No se," I replied, a little confused.
"Correct! You got it right there!" cried Bon Jovi. Applause rose up from all sides. I was a little shocked.... I'd said to him that I didn't know, so how come I'd gotten it right there??
"And so, ladies and gentlemen, 1 point for Alberto!" announced Bon Jovi.
Honestly speaking, for once Huascar was just as astonished as I was. "Que pasa?" cried Huascar. "He said 'no se', meaning that he doesn't know; so how can you say he got it right there?!"
"Well, 'I don't know' is the favorite catchphrase of every school student all around the world," said Bon Jovi, smiling. "Go check in every school and see which catchphrase is more common than any other, if you don't believe me!"
"Caramba! Just a remarkable coincidence!" scoffed Huascar.
So now I was leading 1-0. "Next question," said Bon Jovi, looking serious. "What comes after ABC....?"
I was rejoicing over my lead of one point so much so that I forgot to raise my hand, and Huascar beat me again!! "Yes, Huascar?" said Bon Jovi.
"Question again, por favor?" countered Huascar.
"What comes after ABC...?" asked Bon Jovi.
"Kiam chye cha roti?" answered Huascar, triumphantly.
"Ho, ho, ho! No, no, no!" said Bon Jovi. "Sorry, but we are using either English or Spanish on this TV show. No Amerindian dialects. Can you please answer in either English or Espanol, por favor?"
Huascar, shocked, took a deep breath. "Er... salt veggies with fried roti?" he re-answered.
"Ho, ho, ho! No, no, no!" said Bon Jovi. "Where in the world is there such a thing as salted vegetables with fried pancakes?? Next question, both please get ready."
We both stood by.
"Now listen up, this is a tough one," said Bon Jovi, his eyes focusing towards both of us. "What are the names of the two lead roles in James Cameron's 'Titanic' as played by Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet?"
I beat Huascar in raising my hand again, thank goodness. "Yes, Alberto?" said Bon Jovi.
I took a deep breath. "Er.... Jack and Jill?" I guessed.
"Ho, ho, ho! No, no, no!" said Bon Jovi. "Jack and Rose is the right answer!"
"But senor Bon Jovi, I got one of the names correct!" I pleaded my case.
"That doesn't count, sorry," said Bon Jovi. He turned to the audience. "Well, I'm terribly sorry, ladies and gentlemen; but it seems that both our contestants tonight are a little mentally retarded, so they've gotten only one question right so far..."
"HOLA! Senor! You don't anyhow call us 'mentally retarded' I tell you first!" suddenly shouted Huascar, raising his finger and pointing it at Bon Jovi. "Tomorrow I will get my lawyers to write you a letter, see if I don't!"
Huascar then turned to me, apparently now looking sympathetic. "Garcia, you heard what he just said? He dares to slander us, and on national TV some more!" he pointed out.
I looked Bon Jovi in the eye. "Do you know that I'm an ex-killer?" I said, truthfully, and on national television at that. Bon Jovi cowered, taking a few steps back in alarm.
"Scared now, Speedy Bon Jovi?" said Huascar. "If you want us to show you some mercy, why don't YOU try and answer our questions?"
"OK! OK! You win!" said Bon Jovi. "I'll play it your way!"
* * *
BIG MCINTOSH: Snips and Snails and I had been tuning in to Chanel Ocho on the Bolivian National Television all the way from Equestria. This North American game show, being a GK-based one, was never intended to be funny from the start, especially with a no-nonsense host like Jon Bon Jovi; but with such Latino Amerindians as Alberto and Huascar inside it, how then could it not become not merely funny but also hilarious?
Snips and Snails were literally rolling on the hay and laughing their cutie marks off; I was covering my muzzle with my forehooves trying my hardest not to laugh. The Pyramid Game had all along been a very harsh game which left many of its rejected contestants in great despair, thanks to Jon Bon Jovi's ridiculously high standards. But to think that two Amerindian men had, for the first time in history, conquered Jon Bon Jovi just by a little amusement -- this was just so amusing that we all could not help but feel tickled.
But what amazed us the most, was that Pinkie Pie's prophecy was starting to be fulfilled -- Alberto and Huascar were indeed showing signs of friendship for the very first time in history. I was officially amazed that for once, our efforts finally were bearing some fruit. Of course, it was not any excuse for us to rest on our laurels; we still had to be fully sure that Alberto would turn out successful in his quest in the end.
"This Alberto really is so amusing!" laughed Snails. "I've seriously never seen anypony more funny than him! I mean, he even can answer the question without half knowing what he's been asked -- 'no se', and it turns out that he's right! Ah! Ah! Ah!"
"No, I think Huascar's more amusing!" argued Snips. "Ah! Ah! He actually threatens the world's most sadistic variety show host for merely making a passing statement -- and makes history in the process!"
"Be quiet, the two of you, let's continue watching and seeing what happens!" I ordered the two colts. They finally calmed down and we continued to watch the show. It was seriously very amusing. But what was about to happen was even more amusing -- instead of JBJ asking them million-dollar questions, now THEY were asking HIM the million-dollar questions!!
"Now let's see what your pattern is like, Senor Bon Jovi!" Huascar was saying. "Listen carefully: There were ten birds. I shot one of them down. Funny, the other nine birds did not fly away! Why is that so?"
"Oh!" replied Bon Jovi, "it's because the birds were locked in a cage, and..."
"Ho, ho, ho! No, no, no!" laughed Huascar, echoing JBJ's wrong-answer catchphrase. "The right answer is: Because the birds I was shooting, were ostriches!"
Applause from the audience. Snips and Snails started laughing again. Even I was now finding it hard to control my own laughter.
"Now it's my turn!" shouted Alberto. I looked on the screen. Alberto was addressing Jon Bon Jovi. "Listen carefully: Who goes to work only once a year and yet never gets fired?" asked Alberto.
"The owner," guessed Bon Jovi, "because...."
"Ho, ho, ho! No, no, no! The right answer is: Father Xmas!" smiled Alberto. Applause again. Bon Jovi cowered, clearly showing that he was beaten.
That was indeed a really funny joke that Alberto had just told, and for once Snips and Snails and I could clearly see the funny side of him. Prior to this, most of us in Equestria had known Alberto to be a very no-nonsense man; but now we could see that he did after all have a sense of humour.
"As you can see, Alberto, he won't get himself a single point," suddenly said Huascar, petting Alberto on the back.
Now THAT was something -- Huascar, Alberto's sworn enemy, suddenly petting Alberto on the back?? And the three of us saw it. Over in Canterlot, Princess Twilight Sparkle and Spike the Dragon, along with Derpy and Rainbow Dash, were watching this same telecast; surely they'd seen that??
The most interesting thing was that after only two questions -- one from Huascar and one from Alberto -- Jon Bon Jovi finally gave in and counted up the points, noting that Alberto had won that round. My guess is that it was partly because of time trouble on JBJ's part.
Alberto was taken by JBJ over to the "bonus round" of the game, where he was given a "memory game" puzzle consisting of 15 marco-on-screen dominoes, each of which had the name behind it, divided into 7 pairs of 2 dominoes each with the same name (and one domino left over); Alberto had only a starting time of 35 seconds to finish solving this entire puzzle.
Snips, Snails, and I kept our eyes flashed on the screen. Suddenly there came a knock on my door.
"Come in," I said.
The door opened. Flash Sentry was there. "Has anypony among you seen Princess Twilight Sparkle?" he asked. "She's needed at Wonderbolts Academy now."
I was officially surprised. "What -- you mean she's not with you??" I gasped.
"She went to the restroom for a bit and did not return," said Flash Sentry. "Now her big brother, my boss Prince Shining Armour, is getting rather concerned. We need to find out where she is."
"No need to argue; we'll just go with Flash Sentry!" said Snips.
"To be precise: We'll go!" added Snails.
So I had to follow my two young charges out for this quest together with Flash Sentry....
* * *
ALBERTO: The bonus round was already going to be a tough one. This was a game of concentration. I had to get all the possible matches of these 15 on-screen turn-over cards sorted out within 35 seconds, if I could do that, then I'd win the bonus round and the trip to Syldavia with it.
The 35 seconds were really tough for me, but in the dying 2 seconds I solved the final match, and won the bonus round. Senor Bon Jovi looked really stumped. The entire audience was applauding like never before. I was honestly amazed; what in the name of the Santa Virgen Madre de Dios had I done to receive this kind of ovation and adoration from the public, the great majority of whom I didn't know?
Bon Jovi, very grudgingly, passed me the ticket I had won, the ticket to Syldavia. This was just simply amazing. But what amazed me more was not only the ovation I'd received, but also Bon Jovi's speechlessness after discovering that I'd won the bonus round.
Only after I stepped out of the Corporacion Media de Bolivia and set off home, that was when I knew. I bumped into Huascar Leon outside the Corporacion Media.
"So, somepony has made history," he said. He looked very pissed.
I took a deep breath, making sure I thought before I spoke. "Aww, it's only a game, what's the big deal?" I asked coldly.
"Garcia, do you not know that you are the first person in the history of the Pyramid Game to have won the bonus round?" said Huascar. "And that the game was of gringo origin, yet you are not a gringo?"
Now THAT was what perked me up. I turned round and looked Huascar in the eye -- perhaps for the first time in history too, seeing that he and I rarely got along well.
"Que dijiste?" I asked, completely bewildered.
But before Huascar could answer, a huge big white Mercedes-Benz with an Argentinian number plate sped around the corner. Its headlights dazzled me, especially since it was already nearly midnight; but I knew that car only too well, I'd know it anywhere.
As the Mercedes-Benz passed us by, the rear window opened and sub-machine-gun shots rang out. Quick as a flash, I jumped on Huascar and held him to the ground, saving him (and myself too) from the bullets just in the nick of time.
"Que pasa?!" gasped Huascar.
I said nothing in reply, but kept holding Huascar down tightly for at least 5 minutes (but which seemed to me like years long), hoping that that car would not return. Huascar said nothing, but looked at me very strangely. I looked at him back, keeping my silence and composure.
Suddenly my mobile phone rang. I answered it. "Hola?"
"Hola, Alberto? It's Princess Twilight Sparkle here," came a familiar neighing feminine voice over the receiver. "Come over to Hotel 81 in La Paz and meet me at the lobby. Bring your baggages. I've told the hotel manager to book a room for you for the night."
"Gracias," I said to her. "I'll be right over within an hour." I hung up and looked at Huascar. "Let me take you home first," I said to him. "We're in Sucre now; we'll pass by Chaco along the way."
"Si," said Huascar, rather grudgingly.
Now Huascar was like little more than five-feet-four-inches tall, not exactly very tall for his age; while I was around five-feet-eight. Hence it was not any issue for me to piggy-back him home at all, given also that I'd been through so much s**t in all the workplaces I'd worked in from my hometown of La Paz to as far as the Canaries.
We soon arrived at Huascar's home. It was a small estate of flats called Los Altiplanos del Gran Chaco, and was located in the north of the town. Huascar lived on the 29th storey of his block. I took him up via elevator right to his home. Apparently his parents and two of his sisters were waiting at the front gate.
"You certainly took your time, Huascar!" boomed Bernardo Leon. "Weren't you supposed to be home by 9:15pm latest? What happened to you all night after the show? Were you out drinking or something?"
"No, Papa," said Huascar.
"And who is this hombre joven here?" demanded Bernardo, indicating to me.
"Er... just someone I met along the way home, he offered to take me," said Huascar, truthfully.
"Buenas tardes, Uncle; buenas tardes, Auntie," I said. "Me llamo Alberto. Alberto Garcia."
"Are you waiting for tea?" asked Bernardo, sounding sarcastic.
"No, Uncle. I must go. Gracias, Uncle. Gracias, Auntie," I said, and slowly plodded away. Inasmuch as I still had my reservations about caballos, I would certainly never want to keep Princess Twilight Sparkle waiting; especially since I already knew that booking a hotel room, even in Hotel 81, was not cheap....
* * *
PRINCESS TWILIGHT SPARKLE: Alberto's win at that game show just turned out to be a very one-off case of luck. From what I'd gathered at my research in Golden Oaks Library, there was no host more sadistic than New Jersey native Jonathan Francis Bongiovi, alias Jon Bon Jovi, who was known for booting out numerous bands in the "Battle of the Bands" talentime competitions that he'd originally become famous for hosting; and even in non-band shows like the Pyramid Game for instance, he made it a point to set extremely high standards so that only the best of the best would win. I was missing from Equestria for so long because I'd flown to Earth to make sure that Alberto came to no further embarassment at this game show. In fact, I was about to have a word with Big Mac about his suggestion that Alberto take part in this game show. Nopony among us had for one minute expected that Alberto would win it just by a stroke of pure luck.
I was also aware about the fact that Huascar actually approached Alberto outside the Corporacion Media, in the hope for a confrontation so that he could kill Alberto and get that ticket to Syldavia. But somehow, Benz Guzman's car drove by, though Benz Guzman was not driving it that day; rather, the car had "Long Tall Texan" Alvin Matthew Simoneau in the driver's seat, along with three other All Lee managers -- Ramon Prada, Dario Coleda, and Natanaele Duarte -- who were using their submachine guns and firing at both Huascar AND Alberto. Somehow, Alberto's intuition was right; he dived on Huascar and pinned him to the ground, and saved both his own life as well as Huascar's.
Then, wonder of wonders.... Alberto actually offered to take Huascar home -- the first time in history where I'd seen Alberto apparently getting along well with Huascar.
My guess is that Alberto probably knew that he still had charges pending against him, and didn't want to add another one (voluntary manslaughter), so he most probably offered to take Huascar home not so much out of goodwill as it was in order to make sure that nothing untoward happened to Huascar physically.
While waiting Alberto at the lobby of Hotel 81, I looked through the "Equestria crystal ball" app on my iPhone 4, making sure it showed me what was happening on Huascar's end. Huascar did get home safely, however it seemed like his family was not happy that Alberto took him home that night on piggyback. From where I was I could see them and hear their dialog.
"No, Uncle. I must go. Gracias, Uncle. Gracias, Auntie," said Alberto, as he went back to the lift landing.
"Papa, como esta?" wondered Huascar. "Your Papa likes to throw his weight about," remarked Isabella Leon, Huascar's mother, an odd-job worker. "He scared away the poor boy."
"He's no boy!" suddenly said Bernardo Leon, Huascar's father, a technical engineer. "You just wait and see; from now on he'll start coming here, see if he doesn't."
"Que dijiste Papa?" said Huascar, clearly very zonked out after the game show. "This is his way home."
"Then let me see him do only that!" said Bernardo, raising a warning finger into his son's face. "I mustn't see him leaning against my grill-gate!"
On seeing the dialog among Huascar and his family, I was just keeping my hooves crossed and hoping that Alberto was not going to get into any further trouble.... and just then Alberto arrived.
"Sorry I'm late," he said, "I was held up."
"It's OK," I replied. "We'll have a drink of some tequila and then turn in. Tomorrow morning is your flight to Syldavia. Hopefully while you're on holiday there, you'll be able to heal your emotions."
Alberto was clearly zonked out after the drink that the first thing he did after we went up to his hotel room, was to go to sleep totally nude without bothering to shower. I merely hugged him to sleep and lay down awake beside him, and prepared to head back to Equestria. Around 1 am, Flash Sentry and Snips and Snails and Big McIntosh were at the hotel balcony.
"Quick! Come with us!" said Flash Sentry. "You're needed back at the palace!"
"What's up?" I growled. "What time is it now?"
"Just come!" Flash Sentry beckoned. "No time to lose!"
Grudgingly, I followed him and the three others back to Equestria, concerned for Alberto's safety deep inside....
* * *
ALBERTO: I was very drunk that night after having that chalice of tequila together with Princess Twilight. I remember going into the hotel room and just taking off my clothes and falling down on the bed, and Princess Twilight's furry body huggling and snuggling me to sleep (I could just feel it, it felt just like your typical bolster, only with a more distinctive caballo scent).
It was around 3 or 4 am that same night if I can recall right, that I heard relentless banging on my hotel door. I woke up and put on a towel and went to answer the door.
"Yes? What time is it?" I asked, very angry at being disturbed.
I looked out of the door and saw a few local men in smart casual attire. They wore lanyards and had submachine guns in their belts.
"Senor Alberto Garcia?" said one of the men. "We're from the Bolivian Criminal Investigation Department, and we suspect you of running away from the Army during the time of crisis in our country when all men were expected to join the armed forces. Could you kindly follow us back now to assist us in our investigations, por favor?"
Thinking Princess Twilight was still there, I took a deep breath before I spoke. "Before you arrest me," I said calmly, "please kindly have a word with my superior. She's inside here."
"Sure," said the leader of the officers, who followed me into my hotel room. I was hoping that Princess Twilight was still there..... but I had a rude awakening on discovering that my hotel bolster was right there in that very place where she was supposed to have been.
"Caramba!" I gasped.
"Senor Alberto, I'm sorry, but that counts as a charge of false testimony," said the leader of the officers. "Come with us now!"
He tried to handcuff me, but I turned and whacked him. We got into a bit of a brawl. Just as I thought I was overpowered (four officers against me alone!), I saw that my hotel balcony window was open, and so I ran out onto the balcony and jumped right over, not caring about what was going to happen to me (the hotel room I was staying on was on the 30th storey of Hotel 81).
Wonder of wonders, I landed on something fluffy and soft, and felt the wind suddenly start blowing my hair. I opened my eyes. It was Princess Twilight Sparkle! She had come to my rescue just in the nick of time. Now here I was, lying prostrate on her back as she flew through the air.
My memories flashed back to my very first encounter with Princess Twilight Sparkle....
[flashback]
I was touching up my documents when I swore I saw two silhouettes fly by my window. It did seem a little funny to me at first; but I chose to ignore that... until the moment when I heard a loud knock on my door.
"Que pasa!?" I yelled.
The knocking continued, and my frustration started building up in me. And finally, I yelled at the door: "COME IN!"
But no, it continued, this just cut it. It was the end of the line, amigo. I went ahead to open the door, and to my surprise, I might have locked it.
Out of embarrassment, I opened the door and said softly. "Que pa-...."
My words hung in mid-air. All I remembered was I saw a quadrupedal creature at my door. It had colorful hair and huge eyes, I couldn't remember what happened after that though. I do, after all, have a weak heart. Sincere apologies, amigo.
"Is... Is he okay?"
"Uh... Hello?"
"Um... I think we have a live one here..."
I remember waking up in my bed, with the same creature I saw at my doorway looking right down at me. As I could see better now: That same creature had a ferociously purple mane and eyes.
"You alright? I mean..."
"WHO... WHO?"
"Who am I? I'm Twilight Sparkle..."
"WHY ARE YOU HERE?"
At the same moment, the purple pony... *ahem* Twilight Sparkle, pointed a hoof at my Macintosh screen.
"Look what's on that screen?"
"YEAH, SO? I CAME ACROSS IT BY ACCIDENT. YOU MUST BE LOCO IN THE CABEZA!"
"Well CLEARLY, you don't respect Twilie, so, why do we want to respect you?" Another abomination piped up. I shot up. And there it is: it had a rainbow-colored mane and blue coat. Though this one had a pair of wings on its body.
"Of... Of course I do... I... I... Respect your..."
Next thing I knew. The purple creature's horn on its forehead started glowing. With that, I got an extreme spasm of pain all around my body. I tried to yell, but no sounds came out of my mouth. I cannot move either, then, by some kind of loco magico. The purple creature lifted my entire weight: 69kg of me. INTO THE AIR without ANY hesitation! And with an evil grin, the rainbow-maned creature winked at me with evil complexion.
Next thing I knew. I blacked out completely for the count. I don't have any earthly idea how they did it…
[/flashback]
All those memories came back to me. Memories of merely a couple of months ago in the Canaries. And now, here I was, right prostrate on the back of the same quadruped whom I had berated so badly that time. To think she could save my life from las policias despite what I'd said to her back then. This was certainly an act of grace beyond verbal description.
"Where are you taking me?" I asked her.
"To safety," said Princess Twilight. "I'll bring you to the airport at Sucre immediately so that you'll be able to board your plane and be safe from the police in La Paz. They'll need a few hours anyway to come over to Sucre if they do want to get at you."
We flew through the starry sky of the rainless night. Enraptured by the bird’s eye view, I sang to Princess Twilight:
Heti idik hanshuf, dunia g’dida betilma; Ya amira, imta albik khan liki yom dalil? Sidi elbik leyya, we’shuf dunia agiba; Dunia beida ariba al mu’sofre sehri’n tir; Le dunia fu, da alam teni mush maruf; Men hes’ish vi bechuf, uvi nish’uf; Uhelbi wa’hayya!
Then Princess Twilight sang back:
Di dunia fu! Da alam teni marafush! Wa’ana wayyek ba’id! Akid, akid! Ba’id vi alam teni marafush!
We both landed at Sucre Airport. Princess Twilight saw me to the departure hall. “All the best, Alberto,” she said. “Take care over there in Syldavia. We in Ponyville are aware of the existence of gangsters in Syldavia who are ten times worse than here in Bolivia.”
“Don’t worry, I will manage,” I said, not half realising that pride was getting the better of me. “See you soon, Princessa Twilight. Adios, amiga mia.”
I produced my passports at the counter, and went through all the mumbo-jumbo before finally being allowed to go through the departure hall. I turned round to take one last glance at Princess Twilight. She was standing there looking at me, nodding her furry head in approval.
My eyes welled up with tears as I went through the departure gates and sat on the airplane bound for Klow. As the plane started rolling down the runway, my thoughts turned to Donita, and I began to sing softly:
One day soon I’ll come back, and I’ll stay forevermore; Wait for me, say you’ll wait for me. One day soon we’ll wander, where we’ve never walked before. Say to me, you will wait for me. When the winter’s through, once more I’ll look into your eyes; I will fly to you upon the wings of butterflies! And one day soon I’ll see you, and I’ll kiss away your tears; Promise me, you will wait for me. Say you will, and we’ll see every dream come true. Wait for me, wait and I will come back to you; One - day - soon!
And by the time I finished off the last words, my plane had already taken off, and I fell into a deep sleep…
* * *
FLASH SENTRY: The next big meeting was chaired by Princess Twilight along with my direct boss, her big brother Prince Shining Armour. All of us were present at this meeting; Princess Celestia and Princess Luna were observing in the background, while Spike the Dragon was taking down the minutes. This meeting was rather interesting as lots of gold nuggets concerning Alberto and all his problems, were dug out from this meeting. These gold nuggets of truth made it much easier for all of us ponies to see exactly what phase Alberto was going through in this point of his life.
According to Prince Shining Armour, if we wanted to get to the bottom of all of Alberto’s quixotic personality, the most important thing we needed to do was to find out who exactly Alberto’s worst enemies were — and it was pretty clear-cut that his arch rivals were the staff of All Lee Enterprises, headed by none other than Don Francisco Juan Perez.
The profiles of all the staff of All Lee were pulled out and brought before all of us to see. “The most important thing that you can see here,” announced Prince Shining Armour, “is that Alberto did not have very much problems with these people initially. You can even see that Don Francisco GAVE him the job. Nopony else would have wanted someone as quixotic as Alberto.”
“Another thing to note,” added Princess Twilight, “is his tendency to get flustered up over disappointment. His personality is one that says, ‘I want it now or never’. He does not believe in delayed gratification. He is that kind of person — understandably because this is part and parcel of Latino culture. Although I personally have rarely seen any other Latinos on earth who take this to such a level like Alberto has done.”
“Hence,” said Shining Armour, “we can see that the reason Alberto hates these people is because he is extremely disappointed in them. They clearly did not give him what he had expected of them, and thus he got pissed.”
“Anypony have any suggestions?” asked Princess Twilight.
“Allow me to be the first,” I said. “I have not met this Alberto personally yet. However from what I have heard from those who have told me about him, he is clearly somepony who is very sentimental and has had lots of disappointments before. What he is looking for is a little — er — contentment. Let me ask you now: Who exactly ARE these enemies of his, and why could they NOT give him the contentment he wanted?”
“Good point there, Flash,” said Princess Twilight. “So that is exactly what we’re going to do now. We’ll zero in on some of the more prominent among Alberto’s enemies one by one, via their profiles as Spike has kindly passed to me.
“We’ll start with Don Francisco Juan Perez. He is 69 years old and is the big big boss of All Lee Enterprises. He has been married quite a few times, his latest marriage being to the Argentinian Angela Guzman, the widow of the late former owner. He adopted her son, 22-year-old Benz Guzman, as his godson cum heir; though he actually has a 32-year-old daughter, Rosa, from a previous marriage. Don Francisco is a sadist by nature, like many other Colombian high-ranking personalities; he is the epitome of the typical big fat boss who loves to sit down and smoke cigarettes while watching his staff do their work. At the same time, he is also one of the toughest gamers in all Latin America; in Team Fortress 2, he has reigned as the undefeated Bolivian TF2 champion for the past 27 years.
“Don Benedicto Lee-Guzman, better known as Benz Guzman, is Don Francisco’s godson and heir. The 22-year-old Argentinian was born in Estrela del Mar in the north of Argentina, near the Rio de la Plata; and is his godfather’s favourite of two children. He currently serves as the General Manager of All Lee. Like his godfather, Benz Guzman also tends to shun his half-sister Rosa Perez, especially because she has some yet inexplicable chemistry with Alberto. Benz Guzman hates Alberto to the core, and was one of the first to use the word ‘creepy’ to describe him. Personally, as we all know by now, Alberto is NOT creepy to us; rather, he is just a poor love-starved soul who is just looking for love in all the wrong places. Of course, Benz Guzman will not buy that even if we told him; he has recently been promoting anti-Alberto propaganda among all the All Lee staff.
“Don Justino Rodrigo Diaz is also 22 years old and is the Assistant General Manager in All Lee. A native of Dunedain in Colombia, Don Justino was the one who had instigated Don Benedicto to test Alberto by fire numerous times, notably the ‘futbol’ incident which involved Alberto’s nephew-in-law, the late Alvaro lo Pescadoro. Knowing his nature, Alberto failed all those tests. Sadly, his attempts to make it up with Don Benedicto and Don Justino proved futile. Eventually it led to lots of jealous outbursts, culminating in Alberto’s demotion and later dismissal from All Lee.
“Natalia Cuartas is the Head of Security in All Lee, and is one of Don Francisco’s pioneer staff, along with Jovento Bajaran. The 22-year-old Ecuadoreaness is a trained witch and is known for her ability to deceive and hypnotise people from afar with her black magic. Her younger siblings, 20-year-old Artur and 19-year-old Alegria, are also involved in the black magic, though not as in-depth as Natalia. Natalia is believed to be responsible for causing the deaths of many innocent Bolivians and Peruvians by means of her black magic.
“Jovento Bajaran is 24 years old and is a pioneer member of All Lee, currently serving as the Human Resources Director. He is married to Berlinella Ramerrez, 21, a half-Russian who is a die-hard pro-Soviet and is among the strongest proponents of socialism in the Western Hemisphere; much of the reason why Don Benedicto and Don Justino became Peronistas was because of Jovento and Berlinella. The Bajaran couple were the ones who interviewed Alberto when he first joined up All Lee. It is a little amazing how Alberto started to hate them even shortly after joining up.
“Jaime Lozada is 23 years old and the Culinary Manager of All Lee, holding the title of a sous chef; he is known among the All Lee staff for his ability to fully grill chicken cutlets outdoors in rainy weather. The young Bolivian from the little-known eastern township of Callao was not that much of a danger to Alberto during the latter’s stint in All Lee. However at present, I suspect he is going to be the biggest bane to Alberto in the near future. From what I gather, Jaime Lozada is currently based in Klow in Syldavia, and has taken on the alias of Chef Sztanislasz Loesser, culinary manager of the Bracing Breeze skating club in downtown Klow. Alberto might go there pretty soon; we have to keep a lookout for him should he ever be found there. I think I’ll put you, Flash, in charge of this case.
“Let’s continue. There are a few more who might pose some danger to Alberto while he is in Syldavia. Uppermost of these is Ramon Prada, 20, a native of Chaco in Bolivia, who is a scout and an expert at disguise. I expect he will surely assume a few disguises in order to lure Alberto into a trap, so be wary of him.
“Another one is Jose de la Cruz, the 22-year-old Colombian who later also commanded Alberto’s platoon in the BPA. Because Alberto is on the run from the BPA, Cruz will surely be involved; and I am pretty sure they have sent him over to Syldavia by this time to scout around for Alberto. One other thing I know, that most don’t know yet, is that Cruz and Prada do hit it on pretty well with each other, so Alberto will have pretty much of a tough case to tackle — but not to worry, should anything untoward happen, I know what to do.
“Probably the biggest trap Alberto might walk into yet, other than the Lozada one, would be concerning his music. One of the All Lee staff is this young Maya Indian man from Guatemala; his name is Cristobal Colon Serrano and he is a bassist, and is also currently based in Klow. The 22-year-old has played sessions for many famous Latin singers, notably Ricky Martin and Jennifer Lopez Muniz. Alberto has always loved music and will certainly jump at the chance to recruit Serrano. My guess is that he will find Serrano first before Serrano can find him. Serrano will pretend to be nice, and — everypony please mark this down — within two weeks he will backstab Alberto. How exactly, I don’t know; but just wait and see.”
“Thank you, Princess Twilight, that was a very long monologue,” said Prince Shining Armour. “Now we need to get down to business. We need to assign duties to everypony. We’ve already put Flash in charge of watching Alberto’s every move. But we also need to put somepony in charge of the other stuff back home. This is what we’ll do: Pinkie Pie, you watch over Donita and her immediate family. Snips and Snails, you guys keep an eye on the All Lee enterprises staff in Bolivia. Princess Twilight, you help Flash. The rest, stand by and wait my orders.”
“Yes, Your Honour!” said everypony in unison.
After the meeting was adjourned, I went up to Princess Twilight. “Twi, are you sure you’ve got the right thing done?” I asked her. “How do you know what to do to help Alberto if he gets ambushed by Cruz and Prada?”
“You’ll see,” said Princess Twilight, and she gave me a wink.
* * *
ALBERTO: My arrival in Syldavia was already a little bit of a hassle. As it was, it was past midnight and raining extremely heavily when I stepped out of the arrival hall into the taxi stand to hail a cab.
The first taxi that picked me up was this green Toyota Crown driven by this seemingly friendly Syldavian gentleman. He seemed to love to chat. “You must be new in these parts, zir,” he said, smiling warmly.
“I am,” I said. “My name’s Alberto. And you are..?”
“Er… just call me Stefan,” said the taxi driver. “Stefan Almaszout. I’ve… er… been driving for years and rarely seen Bolivians like you visiting our land.”
“Ah well, then this could be your first time,” I said, coughing a little.
“Well, have some mineral water,” said Stefan, offering me a bottle of mineral water. “You’ll need it after such a long flight across the Atlantic.”
I thanked him and took a sip. This water tasted a little — er — bitter, more bitter than the standard water I was used to drinking back home in Bolivia. I winced a bit.
“You OK?” asked Stefan.
“Si,” I said. “I’m all right. Gracias.”
“De nada,” replied Stefan, upstaging me completely. “Mineral water here is a little bitter normally as compared to the one you’re used to drinking. Either that or maybe you’re just tired. It’s all right, you’ll be getting a rest soon anyway when you get to Shangri-La hotel. Say, why are you here for anyway?”
“Er… for a little holiday,” I said. “Lots of trouble back home.”
“Ah, I get it,” said Stefan. “Well, in Syldavia we don’t have that much trouble anyway. You’ll find that we’re a lot calmer here. You can hear it already in the way I talk. We all talk this way here.”
I was honestly a little upstaged at the way this taxi-driver spoke. Lots of thoughts were running through my mind. First of all, how the heck did he know I was Bolivian? I mean, on first impressions one would find it hard to tell most of us Latinos apart by nationality, so how did he guess this right first time? Secondly, when he said “de nada”, how come he sounded so…. er…. familiar??
Stefan dropped me at Shangri-La Hotel in the heart of Klow. I got out of the cab, took out my luggage (with Stefan’s help), and went over to the counter to check in. Stefan drove off.
Shortly after I’d checked in, I went to sleep, tired after the flight. However, the sleep was not for long; I was woken around 2am from my sleep by persistent banging on my door. I got up and opened the door and saw two burly security officers standing before me.
“Alberto Garcia?” said one of them. “Shangri-La hotel security officers here. We suspect you have some drugs in your possession. Do you mind if you let us in to search your room?”
“I don’t believe you,” I said. “I came through the airport completely clean. I went through all the mandatory checks. How do you expect me to have any drugs on me??”
An officer marched into my hotel room, opened the first drawer, and pulled out a packet of drugs with the label “cocalero” on them. “How do you explain this then?” he asked.
I was completely upstaged beyond words; I could not believe that my hotel room actually somehow happened to have cocalero concealed in a drawer that I had not yet even touched for the win…..
I was honestly flabbergasted to find that drugs had been planted in my hotel room in Syldavia. Who the heck would even have the guts to do this to me now?!
“Senores, I have no earthly idea how it got there,” I said to the security officers. “Before you arrest me, could you please check carefully to verify if your claims are true in the first place, por favor?”
An officer took out the packet of pills and put it into some small device he had. Then upon taking out the packet of cocalero pills, he held that same device out to me, saying, “Put your right thumb therein.”
I did as I was told. The officer turned to his colleagues.
“No match, surprisingly,” he said.
“Senores,” I said, “who was the one who told you that I was trafficking in drugs?”
“This gentleman who had just come into the hotel shortly after you checked in,” said another officer. “He had thin silver-rimmed glasses and was wearing a beret on his head.”
That’s him, I thought, that’s Stefan Almaszout. “Senores, that man was my taxi-driver,” I said to the officers. “I do not know who exactly he is, but I suspect he might be an impostor. Do be wary of him if you see him again.”
“Sure will,” said another officer, taking the packet of drugs with him. “Meanwhile we’ll take this packet back for investigation. If we find anything unusual we’ll let you know again. Sorry to disturb your sleep.”
“No problem,” I replied. “Buenas noches.”
Zonked out and pissed off from that startling encounter, my mind wondering who exactly this Stefan Almaszout really was, I took off all my clothes, plonked myself down on the hotel bed, and remembered nothing more within seconds….
* * *
RARITY: Our poor bipedal friend Alberto was walking himself into lots of trouble, there could certainly be no doubt about it. All of us in Equestria felt great pity for him and wanted to help him in the best way possible.
I suggested to Princess Twilight Sparkle that the best possible way we could do this was to re-divide the duties accordingly. In my opinion, I felt that the best division of our workload would be like this: Rainbow Dash, Snips, Snails, and Noteworthy would watch Alberto; while Soarin, Derpy, Braeburn, and Shining Armour would keep an eye on affairs back in Bolivia. For myself and Princess Twilight, we would watch out for Huascar Leon, the very one whom we felt could make the biggest difference in Alberto’s life. The rest of the ponies would simply stand by and wait orders.
Princess Twilight was pretty impressed by my idea. “Good,” she said. “It sounds like a good idea. Everypony get to your stuff at once.”
So making use of the portal, I went over to Los Altiplanos del Gran Chaco, Huascar’s residence in the human world. I took the lift up to Huascar’s house, and discovered that his door was ajar. I politely knocked on the door.
Huascar was apparently rushing some work inside at the dining table. “Sshh,” he said, “I’m busy.”
“It’s me Rarity,” I said to him. “Where’s your family?”
“My two youngest sisters are in school,” said Huascar with a sigh. “And my parents are sleeping in the room over there, and as for Valeria — I really could not give a damn what’s become of her now!”
“You mean your oldest kid sister?” I asked, curiously.
Huascar slammed the table and stood up in a rage. “Don’t you ever DARE call that brat like that again!” he yelled. “That cheap woman is NOT fit to be my sister!”
“Calm down, Huascar,” I said. “Let’s talk calmly. What’s happened to her?”
“I don’t know and I don’t care,” said Huascar. “I’ve given up all hope on her. She’s been cheating so many older men of their money. Now I don’t have my laptop with me today because she took it again just now when I was not looking. Man, I’ll just let her walk this path to her death and be done with it!”
“Er… OK,” I replied, and then went away from his front door down through those lifts. 29 storeys was really no joke, especially for somepony like me who did not know how to exercise magical powers in the human world.
Just then, Soarin came up to me. “Rarity, come quickly,” he said. “Apparently we’ve discovered that Don Francisco is having another extramarital affair!”
I quickly ran over with Soarin to where he’d seen Don Francisco allegedly having an affair. We soon arrived at a pub in downtown Chaco, at the Junction Ocho mall. We could see from outside the mall, via way of a window, that Don Francisco was inside Starbucks having a drink together with Valeria Leon.
“We must intervene,” I said to Soarin.
“Not now,” replied Soarin. “We don’t want to arouse suspicions unnecessarily. It might only put Alberto in worse danger. Besides, we don’t have enough evidence to pinpoint anypony now as it is.”
So we just stood and watched as Valeria picked up her phone, then seemed to say a few words to Don Francisco, and then walked out of the Starbucks. We could see that she was carrying some laptop in her small laptop case.
“Now,” said Soarin. “But don’t be rude. Be polite.”
We walked up to Valeria. “Excuse us please. Are you Valeria Leon?” I asked her.
“Si,” she replied. “En que puedo servirte?”
“May we know who you are to that man?” Soarin asked.
“My brother’s boss,” said Valeria. “Hope that helps?”
“And what were you doing with him?” I put in.
“Five words: None. Of. Your. F***ing. Business,” replied Valeria, very rudely indeed. “Now may I go, por favor? I have a Team Fortress 2 session tonight.”
“Wait a minute, Ms Leon. What is that in your hand?” demanded Soarin, indicating to the laptop clutched under Valeria’s arms.
“Caramba! That’s my computer. Anyone can see that. Now por favor, don’t be such an ass!” cried Valeria. “And one more thing: step aside right this minute, before I call my Papa and tell him that you are harassing me!”
“That is your brother’s computer!” yelled Soarin. “I know he is using an ASUS Core 2 Duo laptop, the very same model you are carrying! Drop it NOW!”
“Soarin! Let’s get out of here!” I cried. “You’ve made her angry enough as it is!”
Valeria Leon said nothing but took out her phone, and I knew that we were going to feel it, so I gave Soarin a kick in his cutie mark and we ran away from Chaco as quickly as we could — out into the countryside between the towns of Chaco and Soledad.
It was already nighttime by this time. We both needed to find the portal, but somehow it was not where we’d expected it to be. So we just made shelter somewhere along the Amazon.
“Looks like we have to sleep here in Earth tonight,” sighed Soarin.
“This is all your fault!” I said to him. “You told me to be polite. And what did you do merely one minute later? Now thanks to you, we’re stuck here in the human world forever, with not a chance in sight to go back to Equestria!”
“Well, she was getting on my nerves!” countered Soarin. “That bipedess IS really a brat as much as Huascar had described her to be!”
“Brat or not, you were still in the wrong to lose your patience at her, and break your own instructions in the process!” I cried. “Face it!”
“Stop squabbling,” came a calm but stern masculine voice from behind us. We turned and saw two men, clearly apparitions (because of their unusual luminance in the night), standing before us. One was a lanky six-footer, who wore an old-school Anglo-Saxon crown and had long blond hair and a short white beard; the other was short and stout, and wearing a wig and a typical 18th-century British army uniform.
We recognised the two apparitions immediately — respectively, they were King Arthur (the legendary British king) and Prince Frederick (the so-called “grand old” Duke of York, the second son of King George III of the House of Hanover and former Commander-in-Chief of the British army, known to his closest friends as “Duke Freddie”) , Englishmen who were two of the most famous horsemen in the history of the human world. Princesses Celestia and Luna had taught us many years ago that these two bipeds — and all their offspring too — deserve all our respect, whether living or dead, because of their glorious past history with our quadrupedal equine race.
Soarin and I fell on our knees. “Your Highness and Your Honour,” we said in unison.
“You may get up,” said King Arthur. “Now the two of you, listen to me. Don’t need to take matters into your hands like that. You had no right to disturb the poor girl. Do you know that she’s now crying because you just ruined her day?”
“Allow me to cut you there, Your Highness,” interrupted Duke Freddie. He turned to us. “We know you’re trying to help a guy called Alberto, who is now in Syldavia. Do you know who he is?”
“Er… who?” I asked.
“For your information,” said Duke Freddie, “he is my descendant on his mother’s side.”
“You — Alberto’s ancestor?? Yeah right!” said Soarin, scornfully. “His mother’s an Amerindian. How could she possibly have an Englishman like you for an ancestor?”
“Shut up, Soarin!” I said, nudging Soarin in his flank.
“May I continue?” said Duke Freddie, calmly.
“Please do,” I said. “Sorry about that.”
“Right,” said Duke Freddie. “Now listen carefully please. His Highness and I, we have every intention of helping Alberto. We know where he is and we will be paying him a visit later in the week, won’t we, your Highness?”
“Yeah,” replied King Arthur. “We have informed your big boss, Princess Celestia, that we are going to pay Alberto a short visit. In doing this, we hope to make your duties much lighter. Like you, we feel that he needs a great deal of help. Meanwhile, these are our orders to the two of you: Go back to Equestria, and tell Snips and Snails to go right over to Syldavia. Alberto will have assumed a new identity by the time they find him; they will find him in a small field in the countryside. Tell them also that this is a telegram for them with important instructions.” He handed me a parchment.
“Now go,” said Duke Freddie. “And please, don’t disturb innocent human girls anymore. This is an order.”
“We can’t,” said Soarin. “We need a portal!”
“No problem!” replied King Arthur. He snapped his fingers, mumbled something under his breath, and the portal was there. Then he and Duke Freddie disappeared, as though they had never been there in the first place.
We walked through back to Equestria to tell Her Highness Princess Celestia what we had just seen….
* * *
ALBERTO: The city life of Klow was way too much for me to take. I decided to retreat into the countryside of Syldavia and assume a new identity — I have no idea why, but something was telling me that the “Stefan Almaszout” taxi driver was an impostor, and that this land might be filled with impostors, especially in the city.
I soon found a quiet place in the Syldavian countryside, far away from the nearest city or town. I set to work and built myself a house, and began growing my own food. Indeed, as a herder by my Aymara cultural heritage, it was hard for me to become a farmer that grew and ate only subsistence vegetables — considering my carnivorous diet.
I even took on a Syldavian name — Hans Sporovitch. This would be the name I would go by, hopefully it would make the real me more inconspicuous.
It was during this time that another young farmer settled nearby me. This young farmer seemed rather soft-spoken and appeared to have a rather nice disposition. However, initially due to my reservations, I did not say very much to him.
Then the day came when I heard shouting coming from his end one night while I was just going to sleep. It sounded like he was having a fight with someone. I looked outside my window and saw him face to face with a strange man, who was clearly intimidating him.
“Well! I did! And I was just about to make away with that guitar, when YOU came in and ruined everything!” the stranger was shouting.
“Well, sir, it isn’t exactly your guitar either,” replied the young farmer.
“EXCUSE ME?” the stranger demanded, raising his hand at the farmer. “It’s as good as mine, and you know that! You really are a hopeless case, Timmy Garcia. It’s no wonder that you have to farm the countryside in this really desolate land as part of your (expletive) syllabus!”
I decided that the time had come for me to intervene. I marched up to the stranger and grabbed his arm. “Let him go now!” I screamed. The stranger let go of Timmy Garcia and then turned on me. “Who are you and what business is this of yours?” he snapped.
“I want you to say sorry to him,” I said, giving the stranger a severe glare. “I want you to say sorry to him!”
“No!” yelled the stranger. His voice sounded very familiar; I just could not put head or tail on where I had seen this stranger before, and besides it was quite dim so I could not see his face that clearly; but he DID sound familiar.
We got into a bit of a brawl, culminating with me grabbing the stranger by the neck. “Say sorry to him!” I yelled.
“S-s-sorry!” stuttered the stranger. I let him go in a huff and walked up to lend a hand to Timmy Garcia, the poor young farmer, my new neighbour.
“I can’t believe you actually did that,” said Timmy Garcia.
“Well, I couldn’t just stand there!” I explained my position.
“My friend, do you even know who you were messing with in the first place?” said Timmy Garcia, in a highly concerned tone. “No-one I know ever dares to talk that way to Stefan Almaszout.”
I was shaken out of my reverie at that name. “Stefan Almaszout??”
“Yeah,” said Timmy. “He’s a rich landowner in these parts. And this is part of his tea plantation here in Syldavia. As part of my curriculum for the biology course in Klow University, I had to work part-time this term on his plantation.”
Hmmm. Taxi driver turned rich landowner. And only in, like, a few days. How the buck could that be humanly possible, apart from either a successful bank robbery attempt or a lottery strike??
“You mean you know him?” went on Timmy.
“Well…. kind of,” I said. “Wait a minute. You just said that Stefan Almaszout is a supposedly rich landowner, is he not? How come I’ve seen that his look does not look very familiar to so many people?”
“Not surprising,” said Timmy. “Stefan Almaszout is the kind of person who loves to spy on people, especially those who work in his territories. Sometimes he goes there recognisable; sometimes he goes in disguise, in most such cases as a nameless stranger — and not even the managers he employs can recognise him.”
This person is clearly much more mysterious than I thought, I said to myself, putting two and two together — could it be that the hotel I stayed in was also registered under HIS name??
“He must be a pretty prestigious person,” I said.
“He is,” said Timmy. “He has in fact been given a peerage title by King Muskar XII, our monarch. He holds the title of Baron Almaszout of Klow. By the way, I didn’t get your name yet?”
I hesitated for a moment before speaking. “My name is Hans,” I said. “Hans Sporovitch. I’m… er…. a farmer who…. raises horses.”
“Indeed!” said Timmy. “You seem new to these parts. Where are those horses of yours anyway? You’ve been next door to me for some days now and I haven’t seen anything except a field of weeds….”
Now he had got me there. But I took a deep breath and thought of the most practical answer. “Er…. I only moved in a few days ago, didn’t I?” I said. “The horses will be in in a couple more days. Believe me there.”
Timmy and I grew to be close friends. I soon discovered that, like myself, he had some uncanny musical talent on the guitar, as well as the ability to sing harmony. I bought a Hofner bass guitar at the nearest pawn shop and within days, we were jamming together.
After one jamming session, Timmy and I were chatting in my farmhouse over cups of mineral water. “Hans,” said Timmy, “do you know much about this place we’re living in now?”
“Nope,” I said.
“In case you don’t know, this place is part of the vast countryside that borders Borduria,” said Timmy. “This vast desolate valley has often been referred to by local folks as the ‘Passionless Valley’, due to its desertedness. Unusual plants that are believed to produce intoxicating effects, have been found therein. Various really expensive building projects had been carried out years before, but no-one came to stay in the condominiums that were built. The Syldavian government lost lots of money thereof. Rumour has it that this entire valley is haunted.”
“Indeed,” I said. “I don’t believe it. For me personally, I could not have had a more peaceful time in my life, after all I’ve been through.”
“Well, for one thing, have you considered that the reason why your horses haven’t arrived until now, could be because of the fact that this valley is haunted?” said Timmy, looking serious.
“One question,” I said. “Is the rest of this valley part of Stefan Almaszout’s territory?”
“Of course not,” replied Timmy. “Everyone is generally scared of living inside here, and would not do so if they could help it. I’m only here because it’s part of my university course. And this particular estate was acquired by Stefan Almaszout for his plantation — but it is only less than one per cent of the entire Passionless Valley.”
Hmmm, I thought, it’s time for me to do some exploring. “Very well, thanks for telling me,” I said. “I don’t believe that no-one else lives in this valley. And I don’t believe that this valley is half as ‘passionless’ as they claim it to be. I’ll be on my way to scout out the entire place.”
“Take good care of yourself,” said Timmy, as I stood up and went on my way.
The scenery was just beyond compare. While exploring this place, I stumbled upon a very unusual plant. This plant resembled a windflower in most aspects, but its flower had a mouth that would open at will. And no, it did not talk; it opened only to disperse its seeds. Thijavascript:void(0);s was a very unusual plant, I said to myself as I went up to one such plant to sniff its flowers.
The scent was just so beautiful that I got high upon sniffing it… and within seconds I remembered nothing more.
* * *
SNAILS: Alberto was surely walking himself on a one-way ticket to hell. Why he relocated to Syldavia like that just because of a mere dispute with his wife, I don’t think we will ever know.
Snips and I were secretly observing him distantly. Escaping from Klow, taking on the fake alias of Hans Sporovitch, and becoming a farmer in — of all places — Passionless Valley. We were also aware who this “Stefan Almaszout” really was — it was none other than 20-year-old Ramon Prada, a Chacoano and one of the All Lee Enterprises top managers. Ramon was also the heir to the Prada Tea Plantation ownership, and had essentially become the boss ever since he had been orphaned at a young age.
It was really very interesting — to me and Snips at least — as to how our poor bipedal friend was perpetually getting out of one trap and falling into another one. This one was, from what I gathered, to be even worse; indeed, I was already fully aware as to who the big boss of Passionless Valley was. While he was not one of the All Lee managers, he was certainly equally evil; his name was Wladimir Dbrnouk, and he was known for being a womaniser as well as extremely strategic at planning defences. His home was right smack in the heart of Passionless Valley, surrounded by canyons that were already reminiscent of the Grand Canyon, if not as humungous. Wladimir Dbrnouk was also a sadist; he had his own slaughter house right next to his residence, where he slaughtered the most unlikely of animals for his own appetite — dogs, cats, rabbits, and even our own equine kind. As you can see, because of that very reason, the very thought of Alberto going into Passionless Valley already was making all of Equestria tremble with fear.
So we continued to follow Alberto secretly, hoping he would not do anything foolish. But Snips had a better idea. “I’ll follow Alberto,” he said. “You go after Ramon Prada. Check on what he’s up to.”
I took my good friend’s advice and secretly followed Ramon Prada. I discovered that he was now based in Klow, and was indeed extremely rich — he now had a mansion called Almaszout Manor, and he was also a peer of the realm, with the title of Baron Almaszout.
That day however he was in a very bad mood. Apparently he was very upset over a “funny stranger” who had come and upset him while he was checking on his plantation — which I believe was the part where Alberto was currently living, that small section of the Passionless Valley. And it so happened that Alberto, ignorant of the circumstances, confronted him at that very moment. And now Ramon Prada was even more mad.
Snips later came back to me and passed me some news. “Alberto has passed out halfway along the valley!” he cried. “In the very part where grow the Love Poison flowers!”
I was shocked beyond words and followed my best friend to find Alberto. But by the time we got to the place where Snips claimed to have seen Alberto, we discovered that there was no-one there.
“He’s been abducted,” said Snips. “Pretty obviously so. I don’t know by whom though.”
“Ramon Prada?” I guessed.
“Not likely,” said Snips. “Ramon Prada does not come into the Passionless Valley very often. Not especially to the part where these Love Poison flowers grow. Their scent, if inhaled strongly enough, can cause one to pass out.”
“Still, we’ll have to save him nonetheless!” I said. “Let’s bossa nova all the way up to him!
We love to live, we love to dance; We’re gonna rock it out, don’t care even if we fall! We love to dance, we love to live; We’ll samba all night long and have a ball!
Our biped friend has disappeared, But we’ll find him, it’s oh so clear.
So let us live, so let us dance; Nopony’s stopping’ us from rescuing the boy. So let us dance, so let us live; We’ll samba and rescue the boy once and for all!
And so singing, Snips and I galloped off down the fields to look for Alberto.
* * *
ALBERTO: When I came to, I found myself lying on a bed in some rich-looking Syldavian room. It was clearly the room of some rich person. I remembered clearly that just before that I was in the fields of the Passionless Valley, exploring and admiring the scenery — and the last thing I was conscious of was my sniffing some windflower-like plant and enjoying its beautiful scent.
Had I really passed out thereafter? And who could be the person who had such a heart as to rescue someone like me? I didn’t know then.
But within a couple of minutes the room door opened and a middle-aged man stepped in. On first impressions he seemed rather nice.
“You’re safe now,” he said. “You passed out halfway in the Passionless Valley. But I happened to see you and saved your life. Had I not done so, you’d have been poisoned by the seeds of the Love Poison flower.”
“Who… are you?” I asked.
“Me llamo Juan Garcia,” said the man. “I don’t know why, but I seem to have seen you somewhere before, boy. What’s your name?”
“Alberto,” I replied. “Alberto Garcia.”
“Sounds very familiar, that name,” said the man, giving me a look in my eye that somehow triggered some inexplicable chemistry in my subconscious mind. “I remember I had a …. wife, who bore me a son….”
“PAPA?!” I gasped.
“My Alberto!” cried the man, hugging me. “Papa missed you so much!”
I hugged him back. But there was something so drattedly cold about this man’s embrace. I was starting to have reservations about him. Why did he have this …. er…. cold and sinister air about the way he spoke? And was he really all he seemed?
“Papa,” I said to the man, “how have you been? Do you know how many years Mama and I have been waiting your return?”
“Alberto, my son,” said the man, his smile vanishing suddenly, “you are now safe here with me. Can you promise me one thing — forget your past and start afresh here in Syldavia with Papa?”
“That’s strange,” I replied, “but this is the first time ever in my life that I don’t feel good being with you….”
Just then, the room door opened again. “Lord Wladimir!” said a manservant, looking in. “Young mistress Lisa needs your help!”
The man turned around when the name “Wladimir” was called. “Szplug!” he cried. “What does the stupid girl need this time? Tell her I’m coming in a minute!” He slammed the door in the servant’s face.
I now knew that this man was a confidence trickster of some sort. “Stop!” I cried. “You are NOT my Papa! Who are you?! Speak now!”
The man grabbed me by my hands. “Don’t move!” he cried. But I managed to break loose. Within seconds, Wladimir and I were engaged in yet another brawl.
Seeing a loophole, I hopped out of the nearest open window, not caring whether I would break my neck…. and I landed right smack on the grass in a garden of this huge mansion which somehow seemed to exist in the midst of all the greenery in this yet unchartered area of Syldavia.
I saw a young girl sitting in the garden. “You ok?” she asked me.
“I’m fine,” I said. “My name’s Alberto. You are…?”
“Lisa Dbrnouk,” she said. “What did my dad do to you just now? Sounds like you got into some brawl with him.”
“Wladimir is your papa?” I asked her.
“Yeah,” she replied. “That window where I saw you jump out of, was that of his bedroom.”
“Wladimir lied to me,” I explained. “He told me he was my papa. I was somewhat taken in but I suspected something was amiss all along when he told me to ‘forget the past’ and all that.”
“He tells everyone the same story,” said Lisa. “That’s how he acquires all his servants. To me they’re all but dicks. Mama died of cancer when I was very young, so I was brought up single-handedly by Papa. He never allowed me an ounce of freedom all my life.”
I felt great compassion for Lisa Dbrnouk and held her tightly to me. “Don’t worry,” I said to her; “you’ll be safe here with me.”
“Not for long!” came a familiar voice from behind. We turned and saw Wladimir Dbrnouk behind us with his army of henchmen, all armed with sniper rifles.
“Come back with me!” ordered Wladimir, who with the help of his henchmen, escorted us all back into his study, deep inside this mansion.
“Now explain what is the meaning of this!” roared Wladimir, slamming his desk in exasperation. “What were you doing with my daughter?”
“Senor, what right have you to demand this of me?” I countered. “Do you yourself know what you did to your own daughter? And how she feels about you?”
“SHUT UP!” screeched Wladimir. “Answer back one more time and I will punish you so severely you’ll wish you had not been born!”
“Daddy, STOP!” yelled Lisa. “That’s not the way to treat somepony like Alberto! What has he done to you I wonder?!”
“Even my own daughter is for Alberto!” growled Wladimir. I heard a clicking sound. Suddenly, the ground gave way beneath Lisa and me; the two of us started plummeting, with the eerie laughter of Wladimir Dbrnouk gradually fading out in the background….
By the time I came to, I found myself in a big murky pool of nameless muck. My clothes were drenched with water all over. I was all alone; there was no-one in sight, not even a sign of Lisa Dbrnouk.
My mind drifted back to the days before I applied for the job in All Lee Enterprises. I kept asking myself why I applied for that job, knowing that all I had experienced had led me into the state that I was in at present.
Alone in the darkness, I groped about for the nearest possible dry land. After a great deal of searching, I soon found it; it was a small crevice just nice for me to crawl through.
Too tired to move after just barely squeezing myself into the crevice, I felt myself slowly withdrawing from the world. I felt great regret that I ever was so tempted by the job in All Lee, and now without anything left to my name, I could consider myself all but forgotten by the rest of civilisation. And so there in that crevice in the darkness, with all those thoughts running through my head, I began to sing.
My song was full of the things that a man could easily love but never have. After all, what was not meant to be mine, would never be mine. And los caballos? Had they remembered me? That was but the only thing I could hope for; they had perpetually reassured me of salvation and deliverance, but I had yet to see that come to pass. And about who my real papa was, if not that rat Wladimir Dbrnouk? And what about my wife Donita, back in my hometown in Bolivia — did she still love me after what had happened to her nephew Alvaro, of which her whole family was putting me to the blame for? I certainly had good cause to lament.
Love, can’t you see I’m alone? Can’t you give this fool a chance? A little love is all I ask, a little kindness in the night. Please don’t leave me behind, No-one told me love is blind. A little love is all I ask, and that is all.
Love, I’ve been searching so long, I’ve been searching high and low. A little love is all I ask, a little sadness when you’re gone. Maybe you need a friend. Hold me please, don’t let’s pretend. A little love is all I ask, and that is all.
I wanna spread my wings, But I just can’t fly. As a string of birds, pretty birds go sailing by.
Ocean deep, I’m so afraid to show my feelings. I have sailed a million ceilings in my solitary room. Ocean deep, will I ever find a lover? Maybe she has found another. And as I cry myself to sleep, I know this love of mine I’ll keep, ocean deep.
“Love, can’t you see I’m alone…” I began again, but something distracted my attention. Something — or someone was pulling my leg literally.
“Alberto! You OK?”
I recognised Lisa Dbrnouk’s voice. “Lisa! You’re alive!” I cried. “This crevice is very narrow; hold tight and follow me through; we’ll crawl through this together!”
Lisa held tightly to my foot, following me on all fours through the crevice, which gradually got wider and wider until it became a cave where both of us could just nicely stand up.
“This is the first time I’ve ever been so low in my life,” I said to Lisa.
“That’s why this is called the Passionless Valley,” lamented Lisa. “I have never been here before either. Papa would never let me venture beyond my home gates without trusted accompaniment by a servant — and now I know why.”
“I still don’t understand why you call him ‘papa’,” I remarked; “I can see that he doesn’t treat you like a daughter.”
“You have a point there,” said Lisa. “Tell me a bit about yourself, by the way?”
I took a matchstick and some old newspapers, and lit a fire to keep us warm. Then I told Lisa my story.
“My papa left the family when I was a baby,” I said. “Mama brought me up single-handedly. We lived in a poor hacienda in La Paz in Bolivia. I always wanted to see my papa, because I’d been ostracised and teased as a kid for being fatherless. Mama never told me where Papa really went. All I know is that when I became an adult, I tried to find a job in the hope that I could find Papa. The last one I had — in the Canaries, where Papa was supposedly hiding, according to Mama at least — let me down greatly. But then along came these caballos of many colours one night, and they began promising me the world. Their promises were all but emptiness. And when I got married, my own wife didn’t want me only after a few days of being a couple, so now I’m here. No-one can be more unfortunate than me.”
“I feel for you,” said Lisa. “But tell me this. You mentioned caballos of many colours earlier on. Are you referring to Twilight Sparkle, Derpy, Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy….”
“SI!” I broke in. “They promised me everything and now this is what I’ve got!”
“Let me tell you one thing about the ponies of Equestria, my friend,” said Lisa. “When they promise you something, they will never break it. It’s just that sometimes you may have to wait awhile for the promise to be fulfilled. Do you know that one of the mane 6 elements of harmony, is integrity?”
“Si,” I replied.
“Just trust them,” said Lisa. “I’ve been believing them for my freedom for the longest time. I’m already 30. If I, a woman, can do so, how much more so you, a man?”
I said nothing in reply, but took out some of my reserve-supply cocalero from my wallet and started chewing on it.
“Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah!”
Suddenly from afar, there came the sound of laughter. Distinctly laughter, yes; but it had the air of crying in it as well.
Lisa hugged me tightly. “Is that … a ghost?” she cried.
“I wonder what that is myself,” I replied. “It seems to be coming from here. Let’s go this way.”
We followed the trail of the laughter through this cave, and eventually came out in a small rocky garden filled with weeds and a small stream flowing in the center. The laughter was already within our immediate proximity.
“Sounds like it’s here,” I said.
Suddenly, we saw something move behind some of the weeds. A little wizened elderly woman was using her hands and dragging herself out from behind those weeds, still laughing.
“Are you a ghost…?” cried Lisa.
“I am a ghost?” replied the old lady. “I am a ghost….. Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah!”
“Auntie,” I said, “so sorry for the disruption. Are you ok there? Can we be of any help to you?”
“Who are you?” said the old lady. “What did that scum Wladimir Dbrnouk tell you to do this time?”
We both kept silent, afraid that however we answered might provoke the old lady’s wrath.
The old lady turned round and looked at Lisa in the eye. “You are Elisabeth Marie Dbrnouk,” she said coldly, “born on Saint Patrick’s Day in 1988 in Ward 7 of Klow General Hospital.”
Lisa was shocked. “How do you know?” she asked.
“How do I know?” echoed the old lady. “I gave birth to you, of course I know.”
We all were stunned into silence for a moment.
“Take off your shawl!” demanded the old lady. “You jolly well show me the back of your neck! You have a birthmark there, do you not?!”
Lisa took off her shawl and showed her neck to the old lady, who looked back at her, eyes welling up in tears. Suddenly it all became clear to all of us.
“Mama! MAMA!” cried Lisa, running forward to hug the old lady. “So you ARE still alive after all!”
“My dearest daughter Elisabeth!” cried the old lady. “Mama missed you so much!”
“Sztopp!” shouted the old lady suddenly, noticing my presence. “Who is this man? And why is he here? On orders of Wladimir Dbrnouk, I suppose?”
“Mrs Dbrnouk,” I asked, “I’d like to know how we can get out of here?”
The old lady’s face turned purple with rage. She spat something really hard out of her mouth — we later found out that it was a date seed. “PTUI!”
“Szplitz on szplug!” she cried. “How dare you associate me with that scum Wladimir Dbrnouk! Edna Jorgen I was born, and Edna Jorgen will I remain! Well, young fellow-me-lad, are you not going to bow to me and call me ‘mother-in-law’?!”
“Mama,” pleaded Lisa, “Alberto and I are just friends. There’s nothing between us.”
“Auntie Edna,” I said, “how did you end up like this?”
“Yes, Mama!” added Lisa. “They all told me you died of breast cancer. How come you’re here? And how come you can’t walk?”
“Man, you really are that interested to know?” said Auntie Edna. “Very well then, I’ll tell you: the person responsible for the state I’m in today, is none other than that rat Wladimir Dbrnouk!!”
Lisa and I were stunned into silence yet again….
* * *
FLASH SENTRY: It was a blow for us when Snips and Snails reported to me about Alberto’s latest plight — he had been lost somewhere deep in the seemingly unending Passionless Valley in eastern Syldavia.
“No sign of him,” said Snips. “We combed the entire Dbrnouk Manor. Many times over. No sign of him whatsoever.”
“What makes things worse,” added Snails, “was that one of Wladimir Dbrnouk’s henchmen — I think this guy called Nikolai — came running after us with a slaughter hammer. If we didn’t beat it fast, we’d have been mincemeat by now.”
“Hmmm, the tidings you bring are more serious than I thought,” I lamented. “This Alberto seems to be getting out of one trap and then falling into another one every other day. I think Cap’n Shining Armour deserves to know about it. I’d better bring it up to him at once.”
I was about to turn around to go and see my boss Captain Shining Armour, but suddenly I noticed something weird about Snips’s horn. “Wait a minute!” I cried. “Snips, your horn…. er…..”
“WHAT?!! Get me a mirror — quickly!” cried Snips. I fetched the nearest mirror I could find and let Snips have it.
It was official — Snips’s horn was slightly bent. “This is serious!” I cried. “Unicorn horns cannot be bent, especially not those in colts! You know what, I’d better take you to see Doctor Whooves at once!”
Dr Whooves, Eq. M. D. (Equine Medic Doctorate), was our resident medic in Equestria; his polyclinic was located in a hut near Rarity’s carousel boutique in downtown Ponyville. I brought Snips and Snails to see him without hesitation.
“The problem is worse than I thought,” said Dr Whooves, after he’d examined Snips’s horn. “Your horn has been infected by the seeds of the Nightmare Plant. As a result of this, your magic has become intermittent, and may not function according to plan at times.”
“What’s the Nightmare Plant?” wondered Snails.
“The Nightmare Plant bears a great resemblance to a sensitive mimosa plant,” explained Dr Whooves. “The two are indeed indistinguishable on first impressions. With one remarkable behavioural exception: the leaves of sensitive mimosa plants respond to touch, while those of Nightmare Plants don’t. Their seeds disperse in exactly the same way; they are small and sticky, and cling to your fur when you walk by. The Nightmare Plant’s seeds are particularly hazardous to unicorns and alicorns, because it affects the magic in the horn therein, making it intermittent and unable to function according to plan at times, like I said earlier. This is especially true if you’re a colt or filly. And since our friend Snips here is a colt….”
“Medic! Is there any cure?” cried Snips.
“There is,” said Dr Whooves, “but I’m afraid it ain’t with me right now. The cure pill is the Love Pill, and its plant — the Love Plant, which bears a strong resemblance to a periwinkle plant — is located deep in the very same place where the Nightmare Plant is located, i.e. the Passionless Valley of Eastern Syldavia. You will need to go and find it there.”
“Doctor, could you accompany us to find it?” I said. “Shining Armour is going to hold me answerable if anything happens.”
“Now why get your boss involved?” countered Dr Whooves. “Wait, I know why — you’re one of those directly involved in the recent Alberto Garcia case, are you not?”
“The words are yours,” I replied. “And that is why there is urgent need at present. Could you come with us?”
“But of course!” said Dr Whooves. “I am, after all, the Doctor of Love; and this is part of my duty!
You need my love baby oh so bad, You’re not the only one I ever had; If you say you wanna set me free, Don’t you know you’d be in misery. They call me Doctor Love! They call me Doctor Love! I’ve got that cure you’re thinking of!
Thus Doctor Whooves softly sang, as he packed up his luggages. “Come along!” he announced. “We’re off to Syldavia!”
* * *
ALBERTO: Meanwhile deep underground in the Passionless Valley, Lisa Dbrnouk and I were still stuck, together with Lisa’s mother Edna Jorgen. Lisa had just covered her mother with her own shawl.
“I’d better tell you the whole of my story,” said Auntie Edna, her eyes starting to tear. “Years ago, when Wladimir Dbrnouk and I fell in love, we were still in school together; we had been in the same class since we were thirteen years old each. Back then, Wladimir and I shared similar interests, especially in the ponies of Equestria, as well as in playing Team Fortress 2, one of the hottest online games of all time. I taught him a lot of my gaming skills; I was then the champion of the Syldavian Team Fortress 2 annual championships. Wladimir learned a lot from me. We eventually married.
“Then one night a few weeks after Elisabeth was born, that Wladimir told me he had to go to work, so I went to sleep alone. While I was asleep, I felt something pressing down on me and my neck. I screamed and came to, and found that rat Wladimir Dbrnouk trying to smother me!! He did not succeed; I was able to wriggle myself free. I tried to flee but he caught up with me, broke my legs, and threw me down here into this very pit. I have lived here ever since. I suppose that, in my absence, that rat Wladimir Dbrnouk has long since become the TF2 champion of Syldavia!!”
“So you say that Papa…” began Lisa.
“CALL HIM WLADIMIR DBRNOUK!!!” screeched Auntie Edna. “He is not fit to be anyone’s father! Or husband, for that matter!”
“Auntie Edna,” I said, “we can talk about that later. Right now we need to find a way to get out of this pit.”
“There … may be a way,” said Auntie Edna, in a much calmer voice. “But as you can see, my legs are broken. We need to work together as a team if we’re gonna get out of here….”
“Not unless….. let me see if this works,” I said, suddenly remembering the ponies. Standing up tall, I called out:
My little pony! My little pony! A-a-a-ah! My little ponies! Come down and save our very souls!
Suddenly, I heard hooves in the distance, and way up above the pit, I saw a few equine heads peeking down at us. I recognised the faces of the two cute unicorn colts Snips and Snails; they had brought two stallions — a yellow pegasus pony and a brown earth pony — along with them.
“Come up!” shouted Snails, indicating to the yellow pegasus. “My friend Flash Sentry here will fly down and pick you guys up!”
“I’m coming!” shouted Flash Sentry. He flew down and grabbed all three of us and flew us up to ground level again.
“Thanks so much!” gasped Auntie Edna. “You ponies are really cute!” she said, smiling for perhaps the first time since I’d seen her, as she caressed Flash Sentry on his muzzle.
“Now guys, allow me to sit on this cute golden unicorn here,” said Auntie Edna, pointing toward Snails. “I’ll ride into the manor and surprise that rat. You’ll see how I’ll deal with him even though my legs have been broken.”
“Go Mama!” cheered Lisa, as she carried her mother slowly onto Snails’s back. I took out some bells and put them onto Auntie Edna’s feet, which had now all but lost their sensation. “This way, Auntie, you won’t get lost,” I said to her; “your daughter can take care of you.”
“You are too kind, young man,” said Auntie Edna. “Now, gee up, little unicorn!”
Snails neighed loudly and cantered slowly forward to the manor gate. Then Snips came up to me.
“Alberto,” he said, “my horn feels a little… funny.”
“I’m Doctor Whooves, medic of Equestria,” said the brown earth pony, also walking up to me and Lisa. “I came here to find the cure for the Nightmare Poison, which Snips has been diagnosed with, and which I heard Derpy also has — news arrived earlier on that Derpy wanted to go and find you but she disappeared without a trace.”
“Is that so?!” I cried. “What the buck is this Nightmare Poison?!!”
“The Nightmare Poison comes from the Nightmare Plant which grows all around the Passionless Valley,” said Dr Whooves. “The seeds are especially dangerous when they disperse; they can cause drowsiness in mild cases, and paralysis in more severe cases. They are especially dangerous to unicorns and alicorns; and now our friend Snips has got it, as you can see his horn is a bit bent, and his magic is somewhat impaired.”
“So… what is the cure?” asked Lisa.
“The cure,” explained Dr Whooves, “is from the seed of the Love Plant, which is eaten the way you normally eat a panadol pill. And I happen to be fortunate enough to have found two on my way here; this can cure but only one entity. We need more than just these two, and the Love Plant is a very rare species. I’ll give the first one to Snips now.” He popped the pill into Snips’s mouth. Snips was cured in an instant; his horn perked up straight.
“I don’t think there’s time to waste,” said Lisa; “cos if my papa sees you guys around, he’s sure to send you on a one way ticket to the slaughter house, which is just behind the manor.”
“WHAT?!” we all cried in unison.
“So your father actually made a slaughter house for horses here?!” I said to Lisa.
“Yeah,” said Lisa sadly. “We must go with Mama first. Knowing her, she will most certainly go out of her way to stop Papa from doing anything foolish.”
Indeed, we could see Auntie Edna riding slowly up to the gates of Dbrnouk Manor, laughing her “ah, ah, ah” as she went. The gates opened. The sight I beheld completely upstaged me.
Apparently, Wladimir Dbrnouk had just succeeded in capturing Derpy. He was sitting on a huge armchair, while a priest — I recognised the face of the All Lee chaplain, Monseigneur Rafael Yoannes Ruiz — stood next to Derpy (who was apparently wearing a wreath of thorns on her mane and dressed in a bridal gown). A lot of other familiar faces were among the guests — I recognised the faces of Ramon Prada, Justino Diaz, Alvin Simoneau, Jaime Lozada, and Jovento Bajaran and his wife Berlinella. A youth wind orchestra nearby was playing, and Wladimir’s henchmen — all of them Syldavian youths between 14 and 18 years of age — were in-line-skating around poor Derpy, doing triple axels as they went, and chanting this rap:
A toast to mighty Syldavia, And may G-d save our King! May He bestow all His blessings upon thee, Worthy equine, led to the slaughter; Thou art worthy, so worthy to be praised. Hail, worthy grey pegasus; worthy art thou To receive honour, glory, and praise! Jaya ho! Jaya ho!
“And now,” Wladimir was shouting, “let Reverend Father Ruiz come forth to give the blessing!”
I panicked for a moment as Monseigneur Ruiz stepped forward, when suddenly Wladimir shouted again: “SZTOPP!!”
All the partying stopped. “WHO ARE YOU?!!” shouted Wladimir, as he looked through the gates at the weird sight that he saw — a wizened old woman riding a golden unicorn into the gates of his house.
“Ah! Ah! Wladimir Dbrnouk!” said Edna. “Don’t pretend! You have known me for so many donkey years; don’t you dare come and play the fool with me!”
Wladimir Dbrnouk’s face turned sullen. He said not a word, but we all knew what he was thinking: “This woman…. I could have sworn I killed her at that time …. so how the hay did she…..?”
“Alberto!” suddenly called Derpy. “You came just in the nick of time! They were about to kill me!” Breaking loose, she ran up to me and nuzzled me on my cheek. I held the little grey mare tightly in my arms. “Quick!” I whispered, passing her the remaining Love Plant pill. “Eat this!”
Derpy gobbled it up in one mouthful.
“Sztopp!” shouted Wladimir Dbrnouk, suddenly noticing me. “Szplug! So it IS you, Alberto Garcia! You still have the bucking cheek to show up here?!”
“Papa!” put in Lisa. “You locked Mama in that pit for so many years! This is what has become of her! Don’t you feel ashamed to face her?! Please, confess your wrongs!”
“Wrongs?!” said Wladimir. “What do you mean, ‘wrongs’? Who is right and who is wrong here? For your information, cheap woman, it was that old hag who started the bucking ball rolling! You know what she did? She ‘accidentally’ — yeah right — ‘accidentally’ pushed me into the midst of a whole gardenful of Nightmare Poison plants! And as for her Love Plant pill, she corrupted it with some toxins from goodness-knows-where; whether I ate it or not, I would still have died! It is a miracle that I am still alive today!!
“And you know what else? Immediately after she pushed me therein, she went onto a TF2 server sans me, and made me REALLY angry; my playing style was never the same again! It made me so FUMING mad that I HAD to attempt to kill her! But now look at you, old hag! Your legs broken, you look nothing more than a smelly old witch! What have I to fear of you this time, woman?!
“It must be the will of our Lord! Ah! Ah! I assume you already know, old hag, that your biggest brother Edgard has long since been killed by Bernardo and Isabella Leon?”
“WHAT!!” screamed Edna. “Who the buck are Bernardo and Isabella Leon?! And WHO said my brother was dead?!”
“And what about your second brother, Edmond?” Wladimir continued his rant. “Do you know that he has since become a friar in the Carmelite Order? Ah! Ah! What more do I need to fear from you, stupid old woman?”
Edna’s eyes welled up with tears. “Edgard…. Edmond….. you know what pains I’ve gone through…!” she sobbed.
All right, I said to myself, looks like this is a case where BOTH parties are in the wrong. “Derpy and the other ponies,” I addressed my faithful furry equine friends, to whom I now was feeling a lot closer, “let’s go!”
“So this woman is actually his wife?” wondered Derpy. “And she was put under lock and key by her husband for so many decades??”
“This weird couple are just like the Twits in Roald Dahl’s book,” I said; “they’re always trying to get at each other over the most insignificant matters. Sadly, this is the reality of the world: there are more evil than good characters around.”
“SIAM!!!” suddenly shouted Wladimir. We all got jolted out of our reverie and turned around. Apparently Lisa had tried to intervene physically, but got pushed away by her own father.
“Mr Dbrnouk!” cried Derpy. “So SHE is your real wife! How COULD you treat her like that?! You already HAVE a HUMAN wife, so why did you want to marry an EQUINE like me?? Even if I, an EQUINE, were to marry you, how do I know that you would not then treat me the same way, maybe worse, than your HUMAN wife?!”
“Little worthy pegasus, how can you compare to that old hag?” Wladimir said to Derpy. “I truly and honestly love you too much for my life. I loved riding since young and always wanted a horse for my own. And I knew you had what it takes, so I chose you and gave you the biggest of wedding feasts that no other eye has ever seen.”
“Don’t listen to Papa,” Lisa whispered to me; “that’s his way of sweet-talking equines into going to the slaughter. He tells every other pony the same story.”
“Thanks, Lisa,” I said to her. Then I turned to Wladimir Dbrnouk, facing him in the eye.
“Wladimir Dbrnouk!” I burst out in anger. “You tricked me into getting locked up underground! And while I was down there, you tried to lure my ponies over to your manor! And you even inflicted them all with the Nightmare Poison! You think I don’t know what you were planning — you knew the Nightmare Poison was incurable, so you seized your chance to pretend to ‘marry’ my ponies and then slaughter them! You are nothing more than a savage animal in human clothing!!”
“What?!” whispered Derpy, addressing me. “I’m permanently infected with the incurable Nightmare Poison??”
“Don’t worry, you’ve already taken the pill of the Love Plant, the one antidote,” I reassured her.
Wladimir growled in his teeth. “Prepare thyself,” he said, “for one of us must die!” He produced a huge Cow Mangler 5000, a rather miraculous bazooka, and pointed it at us.….
* * *
DERPY: This was really getting more and more complex. After Alberto’s departure to Syldavia, I had heard all about the goings-on via word of mouth; so, without knowing the dangers, I decided to take it into my hands to go and find Alberto on my own.
So I flew to the Passionless Valley in the hope that I could find Alberto. The valley itself was a desolate wasteland of weeds, filled with the most interesting plants you could ever find. They seemed to, in my view at least, have minds of their own; they could certainly communicate well, via means of their dispersal of seeds, which was either by wind or by third-party passers-by, like myself — I knew that only after I got it from the seeds of one kind of Nightmare Plant, which were poisonous and stuck to me like they could not let go. These seeds looked like green balls of rubber hair with a blue centre, plus two periscope-like eyes and a pair of hands.
I initially did not know what they were, really. However I remember running into this man, this Syldavian man, who was apparently out hunting — he had an AWPer Hand sniper rifle in his hand — shortly after I first found those seeds on me.
The man refused to tell me who he was, but he said, “Don’t worry, I’ll help you take those seeds off you. I have an antidote here.” He gave me a cup of weird-tasting liquid to drink, and then I passed out on the spot.
When I came to, I remember that the Nightmare Plant seeds had gone, and I was in a stable somewhere. I knew it was a stable because there were other ponies like myself around, mainly Earth Ponies. Also, I found out that I had a number-tag on my right forehoof, with the five-digit number “46664” on it.
It was here that I first met the handsome Earth Pony, Noteworthy; he was apparently nomming on some basil leaves when I first met him.
“You think this is a stable? You’re sincerely wrong,” he said to me. “This is the slaughter house of the Syldavian multi-millionaire, the landowner Wladimir Dbrnouk. The fact that I am here and I am only an Earth Pony, yet I come from Equestria, was already a big gain for Wladimir. But you are a pegasus, and the fact that this is the first time in history that he has captured a pegasus from Equestria — I can tell you, you’ll be in for it sooner than you think.”
“But it all seems so….” I began.
“Never you mind,” said Noteworthy. “Like you, Derpy, I come from Equestria — but I’ve lived long enough on earth to know the dangers inside out. I was able to avoid getting into this slaughter house for so long — but I never expected that I was chloroformed one day at my old stable in the outskirts of Klow, and taken here.”
“I got here not on my own will,” I said. “Princess Twilight Sparkle, acting on instructions from Princess Celestia and Princess Luna, gave me and my companions orders to go and rescue a bipedal friend, an earthling named Alberto.”
“Alberto? That name sounds so drattedly familiar!” exclaimed Noteworthy, his ears perking up. “I don’t know where I’ve heard it before…. but yeah, it sounds like he’s the kind of biped who can’t help but get himself into trouble after trouble.”
“He is,” I said. “Right now, Flash Sentry is already involved and is supposed to be finding him, but I’ve got no news from his side yet, so I thought I’d do what I can. I never expected to end up here. If I do have to lay my life down, I will do so willingly.”
“Number 46664!” called a henchman.
“Guess they’re calling for you,” said Noteworthy. “All the best, Derpy.”
“Farewell, Noteworthy,” I said, tears in my eyes, as they led me….. right into the court of Wladimir Dbrnouk.
“So!” boomed Wladimir. “For the first time in history, we have caught a pegasus!”
I trembled.
“By rights, I should be slaughtering you right away, as is the procedures here,” went on Wladimir; “but because you are so damn special, in the sense that you are a pegasus, I will change the procedure. I, Wladimir Dbrnouk, want to marry you, worthy pegasus mare!”
The court cheered. I just stood there, silent like a lamb.
“Assemble the musicians!” ordered Wladimir. “And get the priest!”
A court of youthful Syldavian wind players came forth. Then the priest arrived. I recognised him as Monseigneur Rafael Yoannes Ruiz, an Argentinian from the Society of Jesus who was presently doing mission work in Syldavia.
I just stood where I was. Then something took me by surprise. The musicians started to play, while Monseigneur Ruiz walked up to the altar; then a group of Syldavian in-line-skaters came out and started to encircle me and chant their weird “A toast to mighty Syldavia” song.
Thank G-d, just as Monseigneur Ruiz was about to start conducting the rituals, my rescue arrived just in the nick of time! The entire rescue entourage was led by whom I later found out was Edna Jorgen, the wife of Wladimir Dbrnouk, whom he had locked underground for so long!! My eyes were finally opened; it was true after all, if he could slaughter humans, how much more so us equines!
Alberto popped the antidote pill into my mouth, which he had gotten from Dr Whooves. Other than them, the rest of the entourage included Flash Sentry, Snips, Snails, and Lisa Dbrnouk — Wladimir’s and Edna’s daughter, who was most certainly nothing like her parents.
The showdown between Alberto and Wladimir began. I called out to Alberto. “Alberto, are you ok?” I asked him.
“Talk to me if you want me dead!” he growled. I was concerned for him deep within; by his weary-looking gait, I knew he too had been infected by the Nightmare Poison plant seeds, so how could he have given me that antidote pill? It was just sheer grace on his part; what made matters worse was that Wladimir was clearly very strong… but seeing that he had to concentrate on this battle, I just kept quiet and let him tackle Wladimir.
Alberto knocked the Cow Mangler 5000 from Wladimir’s grasp. The two began to fight for it, using their arms. Using a banana kick, Alberto kicked the Cow Mangler 5000 till it went behind the chair where Edna Jorgen was now seated on. Wladimir ran over to grab it, but Edna spat out a date — which hit Wladimir right smack in the left eye.
“AAAGGGHHH!!!!” yelled Wladimir, in great pain. He turned and ran out of the front door. “Papa! NO!” called Lisa.
“Elisabeth, if you want your papa, then go with him! Don’t ever let me see your face again!!” Edna scolded Lisa.
“Mama! I … ” Lisa tried to explain herself.
“Elisabeth, go down to Wladimir’s stalls and set all the horses free!” said Edna. “Horses deserve their freedom, after having been cooped up there for so long!”
“Auntie Edna, you mean you actually want to set all the horses free??” asked Alberto.
“Yeah! Did we hear you right?” I put in.
“The words are yours!” said Edna. “You ponies have suffered worse than I have. You don’t deserve to suffer that way. You need your long-awaited freedom!” She turned back to Lisa. “And one more thing, daughter; the blue pony from Equestria, tell him he can join his companions, who are here to pick him up and take him home with them!”
Rejoicing in the Passionless Valley could not have been more rampant than that day. Noteworthy came running out to join us. “Derpy! You survived!” he cried, running up to nuzzle me.
“Yeah, I did,” I said, returning the nuzzle gesture. “Let’s hope Wladimir Dbrnouk does not return.”
Just then, I noticed something wasn’t very right. “Who are those people over there?” I cried, pointing at a group of familiar and eerie-looking faces in the court. “That guy is not Jovento Bajaran, is he not??”
“He is,” whispered Alberto, “but now is not the time to act.”
“Ms Edna,” I said to the old lady, “my biped friend Alberto still has not been cured of the poison. Is there another antidote pill with you?”
“There is,” said Edna. “I can give it to you, but on one condition.”
“And what may that be?” Alberto asked.
“Go and kill Bernardo Leon and his family,” said Edna. “They killed my oldest brother. They will regret that they ever did so!”
I turned to Alberto. “Are you really going to do what this old witch says?” I whispered to him. “I actually do have my reservations about her.”
“I see no reason why I should listen to her myself,” replied Alberto; “I have better ways of finding an antidote myself, anyway, don’t we have Dr Whooves with us?”
Noteworthy trotted up. “I think what we’ll do is this,” he said. “We’ll get Dr Whooves to stay here with me and to find the antidote. Meanwhile, the rest of you — Alberto, Derpy, Snips, Snails, and Flash Sentry — can go back to Bolivia.”
I looked triumphantly at Alberto….
* * *
ALBERTO: And so we set back for Bolivia. When we arrived at the airport in Sucre, a whole crowd of ponies was waiting to greet us at the arrival hall.
Looking at how far I’d come since my All Lee employment days, how these furry caballos had helped me along the way, and how much they were acclaiming me despite me having been a little — er — hostile to them at first, I felt touched deep inside me. You could say I was a little too touched to speak. I realised I was now starting to call them “ponies” more often, rather than “caballos”.
I could recognise the faces of all the ponies standing before me, and even knew them all by name: Flash Sentry, Derpy, Snips, Snails, and Dr Whooves in my entourage; along with Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy, Big McIntosh, Braeburn, Soarin, Shining Armour, and Thunderlane waiting us in the arrival hall. I stepped out of the gates and called them all aside.
“I need to know,” I said to them, “how news has been lately here.”
“Not too good, politically speaking,” lamented Big McIntosh. “Last I heard, the city of La Paz was besieged by troops led by this local Inca centurion named Taddeo Spettro, who immediately proclaimed La Paz a Justicialist city. The Bolivian People’s Army have been called in again. They might well re-conscript you anytime if they need more manpower.”
My eyes went wide. “Oh? Is that so?” I said, half upset and half shocked. “If that’s the case, then this is what we’ll do. Snails, come here.”
Snails trotted up to me. I petted his horn. “I’ll ride you,” I said to him. “And the rest of you, this is what I want you to do….”
I gave my pony friends some important briefings on what to do.
“Now, the rest of you,” I said, “you know what to do, I suppose?”
The ponies gave me neighing sounds of affirmation.
“Great,” I said. “So all of you go into the city now, except Snails, who will stay here with me. Derpy, you’re in charge of them.”
Derpy neighed with approval. The other ponies went into the city. Snails, who stayed behind, looked at me.
“I’ll go to the nearest blacksmith shop to get you shod and saddled up,” I said to him. “Then we’ll ride into the city.”
“Will they remember you, Alberto?” wondered Snails. “I mean, considering your experiences with them before?”
“By the time we get there,” I replied, “our friends will have done what needs to be done. The local people, especially the children, will be shouting for us to deliver them.”
* * *
DERPY: I took ten of my fellow ponies into the city, excepting Snails, who remained with Alberto. Snips, who was a little concerned for his BFF, especially with Alberto’s shady past in mind, asked me: “Will he be ok?”
“He will,” I answered. “Just come with me and do what Alberto told us to do. We’ll be fine.”
All eleven of us went to the nearest food court to order some steaks and tequila. The food court was not that crowded, but then again it was not that silent either, being lunch hour.
We all ordered a lambsteak each with tequila and then sat down at various tables. After we had our food, I nodded at Flash Sentry, who took out his guitar and then nodded back at me.
I began to pound the table with my empty tray. One by one, the rest joined in, pounding the tables, stamping their rear hooves, or clopping their fore hooves. At the right note, I then turned to my boombox and turned on a loop of the very same rhythm.
WIthin seconds, we all burst into song. I knew that this was the one and only way to get the people to hear us out, as Alberto had briefed us.
Hoy el pueblo cantará Con gran coraje y voluntad Esta es la música de un pueblo Que reclama libertad. Si al redoble del tambor Tu corazón latiendo va Es que la luz del nuevo día Por fin vendrá.
A la causa te unirás Que a todos libres nos hará Por toda la ciudad Barricadas se alzarán. Ven únete al pueblo Por fin las cadenas caerán.
Hoy el pueblo cantará Con gran coraje y voluntad Esta es la música de un pueblo Que reclama libertad. Si al redoble del tambor Tu corazón latiendo va Es que la luz del nuevo día Por fin vendrá.
And then as the gates opened up, Alberto rode in on Snails. As he waved to the crowds, Alberto sang:
A tu patria te darás Por este anhelo conseguir. Unos cuantos vivirán Y algunos vamos a morir. La sangre en los campos de Francia Los va a cubrir!
And we all joined in:
Hoy el pueblo cantará Con gran coraje y voluntad Esta es la música de un pueblo Que reclama libertad. Si al redoble del tambor Tu corazón latiendo va Es que la luz del nuevo día Por fin vendrá!
By this time, the whole city of La Paz was having a ball, all cheering for Alberto as he rode in. The people were crying out loudly.
“Por favor! Deliver us!”
“Blessed are you, salvador de la Paz; you come in the name of el Senor!”
“You from the highest heaven! Por favor! Deliver us!”
I could see how high Alberto was feeling; he may not have been very well-dressed, and certainly did not smell nice at all; but he was being acclaimed the way one would acclaim a head of state.
Nevertheless, from where I was, I could see in the distance — beyond the city walls — that there was trouble brewing in the distance. I knew this was coming long before it actually came.
I spotted a familiar figure in the midst of the crowd. Benz Guzman had apparently just arrived along with a few of his henchmen, including Ramon Prada, Jose de la Cruz, and the city’s new mayor Taddeo Spettro. I saw Guzman nodding to Prada, who picked up his AWPer Hand sniper rifle and pointed it at us. I saw that we were going to feel it. “Quick! There’s trouble! Let’s get out of here!” I yelled.
Ramon Prada fired a shot. We all fled just in the nick of time. I knew that these Justicialistos — as they called themselves — were certainly much better prepared than we were.
“Let’s get out of here!” I yelled. “Up this way!”
The city was now in chaos. Apparently Guzman had found out that we had returned and now he wanted to make mincemeat out of all of us. I knew SOMETHING just had to be done.
We ran out of the city plaza into a quiet clearing outside the city gates. “The city isn’t safe!” cried Snails. “The people are now being forced by Benz Guzman to bow to Taddeo Spettro! I mean, if I hadn’t bolted at the right instant, I’d have been shot by Ramon Prada’s AWPer Hand rifle!”
* * *
ALBERTO: Put it simply — we had been kind of pre-empted by those muchachos. We were all very fortunate to have fled the city in one piece; Taddeo Spettro had clearly taken the city by force. While the people did believe us no doubt, they were certainly no match for the justicialists under Spettro. And Spettro himself was already a general, and a highly experienced one at that, in the command of Benz Guzman — who himself was an employee in the service of Don Francisco.
I knew that we clearly lacked something, but we had to find out what exactly it was that we lacked; we might even need to do some trial and error along the way.
“This is what we’ll do,” I announced to my ponies. “We know what we want to tell the people, which we have told them. And they are convinced. But they have been forced by military law to turn us out of the city. So it is pretty clear that we do lack in something. We will have to find that one thing that we lack. I’m counting on you all. What suggestions have you thereof?”
“We must KILL that cunt Spettro!” proudly proclaimed Snips. “We must rip his guts out and bludgeon him and make him a laughing stock for the whole of La Paz to see!”
“That won’t work, Snips; he’s part of a bigger and more dangerous group!” argued Snails. “And we know that this group is under the command of Don Francisco Juan Perez, one of the most influential men in all Latin America; you’d be asking for trouble if you are to take on Don Francisco just like that!”
“But we HAVE to destroy the problem at its roots if we are to solve it all — meaning that whether we like it or not, we have to destroy Don Francisco!” said Big McIntosh. “It won’t be easy, but we’re ready for whatever may come our way!”
“We’ll lay down our lives if we have to!” proclaimed Rainbow Dash.
“No,” I said. “You all won’t need to lay down your lives. We just have to find that one thing we lack.”
“I think it might be…. something to do with your father,” hinted Fluttershy. “Haven’t you been searching for your real father all your life?”
“Oh si! I’d clean forgotten!” I cried. “But right now we’ve got no time for that; we’re already, like, not very much more than criminals on the run from the new law! All the while I was gone, I never expected that these Peronistas would ACTUALLY overthrow the government! Right now, this is what I think we need: FOLLOWERS! As in human followers! I want you all to go and find me followers!”
“Well said!” said Derpy. “Our proclamation of liberty and friendship would be of no use if we had no apparent friends, and first impressions always count; and Alberto, I think you can start with Donita!”
“Donita??” I gasped.
“Well, isn’t she your wife?” countered Derpy.
Just then Pinkie Pie came running up. “Alberto! Good thing you’re back!” she cried. “Come with me quickly! Donita’s in trouble!
She lives in a fairy tale, Somewhere too far for us to find. Forgotten the taste and smell, Of the world that she's left behind. It's all about the exposure the lens I told her; The angles were all wrong now. She's ripping wings off of butterflies, Keep your feet on the ground When your head's in the clouds.
Well go get your shovel, And we'll dig a deep hole To bury the castle, bury the castle! Go get your shovel, And we'll dig a deep hole To bury the castle, bury the castle!
So one day he found her crying Coiled up on the dirty ground. Her prince finally came to save her, And the rest you can figure out. But it was a trick And the clock struck twelve; Well, make sure to build your house brick by boring brick Or the wolf's gonna blow it down. Keep your feet on the ground, When your head's in the clouds.
Go get your shovel, And we'll dig a deep hole To bury the castle, bury the castle! Go get your shovel, And we'll dig a deep hole To bury the castle, bury the castle!
Well you built up a world of magic, Because your real life is tragic. Yeah, you built up a world of magic. If it's not real You can't hold it in your hand, You can't feel it with your heart, And I won't believe it. But if it's true, You can see it with your eyes, Oh, even in the dark; And that's where I want to be!
Go get your shovel, And we'll dig a deep hole To bury the castle, bury the castle! Go get your shovel And we'll dig a deep hole To bury the castle, bury the castle!
And as Pinkie Pie finished the last words, she began shaking me hard. “Pinkamena Diane Pie! What’s up with you?!” I cried.
“Alberto, I think Pinkie is trying to tell you that Donita has been attempting suicide because you left her,” said Derpy. “While you were away in Syldavia, she was with your child, and had been contemplating abortion and suicide after you ran away.”
“But didn’t she want a divorce back then??” I wondered.
“She regrets having done so,” said Pinkie. “Princess Twilight and I have been spending the last two nights counselling and consoling her. She only found out that she was with child, like, last week; and it’s YOUR child too. You need to learn to bury the castle.”
“And who IS that prince you speak of, whom you said came to save Donita?!” I cried. “I don’t care whether or not she wants a divorce, but I for one will NEVER let nopony touch no hair on my woman’s head!”
“She was seduced by Jose Nerarondine,” said Pinkie. “And she ….”
“WHAT?!! Seduced by Jose Nerarondine?!!!” I screamed. “Was that BEFORE or AFTER she was found to be with child???”
“Before,” said Pinkie, “but what are you….”
“No time to waste!” I screamed. “I’m on my way to see Donita right this minute before it’s too late! COME WITH ME EVERYPONY!”
I mounted Snails and cried out, “Giddy up! We’re homeward bound!” Snails neighed loudly and began to gallop off in the direction of Don Ferrando’s residence, which was in the outskirts of the city. The other ponies, including Pinkie, followed us.
* * *
PRINCESS TWILIGHT SPARKLE: I had been trying repeatedly to console Donita and her family after Alberto ran away to Syldavia. It was a matter of time before I realised that they were a rich mestizo family, and hence very stuck-up in nature especially towards “pure” Amerindians like Alberto.
Breaking point came when Don Ferrando went bankrupt — exactly three days after Alberto’s departure — and was forced to sell his manor and move to live in a humble three-room apartment with his two spouseless, childless adult children.
All three of them kept blaming Alberto for causing this horrific loss. Indeed Don Ferrando kept persuading Donita to “not just separate from your husband; divorce him utterly!”; he even got divorce papers on his daughter’s behalf. But Donita was by no means ready for that yet; she kept telling her father that she needed “time to think it over”.
It was on one such night that I flew into Don Ferrando’s bedroom window just as he was writing things down at his desk by his window sill.
“Don Ferrando lo Pescadoro?” I said.
“Si,” replied Don Ferrando, “who are you and what can I do for you?”
“My name’s Twilight, and I heard all about what you’ve been going through,” I said to Don Ferrando. “I mean, I remember you as a rich man. How did you end up like this?”
“Not for you to know,” said Don Ferrando, turning to go to the restroom.
“Well,” I said, “what if I told you I have a solution for you to get back all you once had — and many times over at that?”
Don Ferrando turned around. “Indeed!” he said, certainly sounding sarcastic, as he walked back to his desk. “Tell me more.”
“Right then, Don Ferrando,” I said, “I’ll tell you more as requested. Please listen, and don’t lose your cool, because this could be your one and only chance.”
Don Ferrando grunted under his breath. “Si,” he said.
I looked the venerable 80-year-old businessman in his eye and sang to him, in a poetic manner — hoping to avoid offending him at all costs.
You think you own whatever land you land on. The earth is just some dead thing you can claim. But I know every rock and tree and creature, Has a life, and a spirit, and a name.
You think the only people who are “people”, Are people who walk and think like you. But if you walk the footsteps of a stranger, You’ll learn things you never knew, you never knew.
Have you ever heard the wolf cry to the blue corn moon, Or ask the grinning bug just why he grins? Can you sing with all the voices of the mountain? Can you paint with all the colours of the wind?
Come! Run the winding pathways in the forest, And taste the sunsweet berries of the earth. Come roll in all the riches of the ponies, And for once never wonder what they’re worth.
The rainstorm and the river are my brothers, The heron and the otter are my friends. And we are all connected to each other, In a circle, in this hoop that never ends.
Have you ever heard the wolf cry to the blue corn moon, Or let the eagle tell you where he’s been? Can you sing with all the voices of the mountain? Can you paint with all the colours of the wind?
How high does a sycamore grow? If you cut it down, then you’ll never know!
And you’ll never hear the wolf cry to the blue corn moon, Or whether you are white or copper skinned. You need to sing with all the voices of the mountain, You need to paint with all the colours of the wind!
You can own this earth and still All you’ll own is earth until You can paint with all the colours of the wind.
While I was singing those words to Don Ferrando, I saw Donita peek into the room; apparently Don Ferrando had left his door ajar.
“Muchas gracias,” said Don Ferrando. “Now I think we’ve had quite enough of that nonsense. You may go now, por favor.”
I flew away into oblivion from the old man’s sight; but nevertheless I continued observing him from a distance, using my horn. So I kind of knew what was happening on his end.
I saw Donita come into the room and ask her father, “Papa, how come you were talking with Princess Twilight?”
“Who’s Princess Twilight?” Don Ferrando retorted. “I don’t know such a person.”
“Well, who was that purple unicorn you were talking to just now?” Donita persistently asked.
“You must be dreaming, daughter,” said Don Ferrando. “You clearly are still not over Alberto. Have you not already signed the divorce papers I handed you yesterday?”
“Papa, if you don’t believe me, take a look at this,” said Donita. She produced her phone and showed something to her father. Now I knew what had happened — Donita had either photo- or videographed me singing to her father; thus making my life easier…. she now had some tangible evidence.
Don Ferrando was looking at her daughter’s phone in great amazement, his mouth gaping. “So you actually had the AUDACITY to come and secretly video me?!” he yelled, turning around and slapping the poor girl hard on the face.
“Papa!” cried Donita. “Control yourself, por favor!”
“Get out!” shrieked Don Ferrando, his face going red.
“Papa, you’ve got to ….” began Donita.
“AAAAUUGGGHHHHH!!!!!” Don Ferrando just managed to scream — purple with rage.
BONK! Don Ferrando struck Donita’s smartphone to the floor. SLAM! The room door slammed shut behind Donita as she walked back to her room in tears.
The die was cast, the seeds were planted. Now the ball was more or less entirely in Don Ferrando’s court, as to how he would handle this situation.
And it did work out well in the end. The following day, Don Ferrando called together his son Napoleone and his daughter Donita for a family meeting.
“You already know how bad a situation we are in,” he said. “We’ve never been as desperate as we are now. Alvaro is also dead. We need someone who can bring us back to where we once enjoyed that love and life. And hence, I have decided to let Alberto Garcia come back to our family.”
“You’re not serious, Papa?!” cried Napoleone. “You’re getting that jinx back after what he did to my one and only son?!!”
“Bro, Alberto is NOT a jinx!” argued Donita. “You don’t anyhow malign him!”
“No way!” yelled Napoleone. “You wait till you marry him and your offspring will die equally horrible deaths!”
“BASTA!!” screamed Don Ferrando. Napoleone and Donita stopped fighting.
“I am the patriarch here,” said Don Ferrando. “I hence expect EVERYONE in this family to listen to and comply with whatever I say!”
Silence followed for a moment.
“I will pass a message to Princess Twilight,” said Don Ferrando, “and get her to take it to Alberto. And Donita, don’t worry about your phone; I’ve bought you another more secure phone which you can use.”
I saw all of that through my horn. When I returned to Pescadoro Manor later, Don Ferrando passed me the message, and I flew over to Pinkie Pie and told her to make sure Alberto had come home safely.
* * *
ALBERTO: Upon my return to Donita’s, I hoped that me and my in-laws could start everything afresh from scratch.
Once more I moved in and brought in all my luggages; and Donita willingly allowed me to share her room, even in this small three-room apartment. My in-laws were happy that I had come back, and I voluntarily offered to help them restore back the glory they’d once had. I had, however, yet to find such a way to bring back that glory, and that would have to come with a particular talent. But what talent would be best?
I brought this up to my Mama when she came to visit us, and she suggested that we make our own Aymara quilts and sell them. “This is all part of our Aymara Indian culture,” Mama said. “These quilts are very distinctively our style. We simply make them, and once they sell like hot cakes, in no time at all you and your in-laws will be rich. Remember, Alberto, how when you were young I taught you how to make these quilts?”
“Si, Mama,” I said, a little skeptical about Mama’s traditional-mindedness.
“So I’m sure you know what to do,” smiled Mama, before she took her leave.
I was completely doubtful as to whether our ultra-old-fashioned quilts would EVER sell at all, even here in La Paz. I mean, now rich blankets and mattresses were the fashion; WHO would sleep on these retro quilts, even the poorest of the poor?
Nevertheless I decided to give this a go. Anything for the money, I thought. So I told my wife: “We’ll start by making Aymara quilts and putting them up for sale. Hopefully we can start a business with this.”
“Sure thing,” smiled Donita; she clearly had some faith in me.
Just then, two ponies flew to our room window — Derpy and Flash Sentry.
“Ah, you’ve finally come,” I said to them, as I stroked their manes.
“Good thing we did,” said Derpy; “for you have made a good start in this selling of quilts. However let us assure you that while you will be successful at this, you — as in you exclusively, Alberto — will be far more successful in another venture which will be coming soon.”
“Indeed!” I cried. “How did you know that?”
“I told them to pass you this message,” a high-pitched, familiar voice came from not far off; we turned and saw Pinkie Pie trotting into our room.
“How did you get inside here?” cried Donita.
“Don’t forget,” said Pinkie, “just now you forgot to close your front door. I followed Derpy and Flash here to make sure they passed you my message.”
“She really can tell the future, sweetie,” I said to Donita.
“Don’t be surprised,” replied Donita; “that’s why we call it her ‘Pinkie sense’. She may be quite gung-ho and all that, but she is also a prophetess and she’s all business when it comes to predicting the future.”
“One question though,” I went on. “What about Don Francisco Juan Perez? And what about the fact that La Paz is now under the governance of Taddeo Spettro?”
“That,” said Flash Sentry, “is going to be something we all have to put our heads together to think about.”
“Don’t worry,” Pinkie blurted out, “my insight tells me that you will defeat the forces of evil, and you will do so within a year at that.”
“Easier said than done, Senorita Pinkie!” I cried. “What have we on us now to defeat them?”
“Believe me,” said Pinkie, “you have more potential than you think, Alberto. And I am pretty sure you have the resources too. They are within you.”
“Pinkie, I believe we mentioned before that we need followers,” I said. “Why have we so few followers until now?”
“No, you have us,” said Pinkie. “And you have two more joining you guys in a couple of minutes.” She turned to Derpy and Flash Sentry. “Have you guys seen Pipsqueak and Featherweight?” she asked them.
“They should be on the way soon,” replied Derpy.
And within a few minutes, two young colts — a pegasus and an earth pony — came galloping up to our front door. I ran to the door with Donita to welcome them.
“I’m Featherweight,” said the pegasus colt, who had ivory fur and a brown mane.
“And I’m Pipsqueak,” said the earth pony colt, who had a white coat and a dark brown mane and a patch on one eye. “We understand that you are looking for followers?”
“You bet I am!” I cried. “Welcome! Come on in!”
The two colts followed me into the flat. Just then, Papa Ferrando came out of his room; he had been napping the whole afternoon. “What’s going on?” he asked. “And who are these caballos?”
“Papa Ferrando, these are my pony amigos,” I said to him; “and they’re also Donita’s pony amigos. They have come to help us to bring our business back to where it was before.”
“Indeed!” said Papa Ferrando. “I am the person in charge. Come, caballos; have a cup of aguardiente.” He poured them the drinks — and one extra cup too. “Papa Ferrando, what’s the extra cup for?” I wondered, out of sheer curiosity.
Papa Ferrando took a deep breath, and then took me aside. “Come to my room now Alberto, I want to talk to you,” he said.
I followed Papa Ferrando into his room. “Yes, Papa Ferrando?” I asked.
“Alberto, you may not know this,” said Papa Ferrando, his face looking serious, “but I have seen a lot of good in you. I was just never able to tell you up front because I was afraid my family would lose face — mainly because you do come from a poor family yourself. Allow me to offer you my most humble apologies.” He offered me the cup and knelt down as he did so.
“Papa, don’t do that, por favor,” I pleaded; “it’s not right for you to be begging me, your son-in-law, like that.”
“Just accept the cup,” ordered Papa Ferrando. Knowing he meant business, I gently took the cup from his hand. “Muchas gracias, Papa Ferrando,” I replied. Then I drank it up.
“You may want to laugh,” said Papa Ferrando, rising to his feet, “but me and my family have been life-long bronies. We have actually loved los caballos for the longest time. It is good that I have a son-in-law like you — you are the perfect son who can take forth our business to the next generation. I know you still hate me deep within because of what happened regarding that big loss, but don’t worry, we have found out who is responsible.” He turned and walked toward the window and gazed outside. “My own biological son, Napoleone, was entirely responsible. I found out that he had been splurging the money away at nightclubs in Chaco.”
“Oh,” I said.
“One more thing,” said Papa Ferrando, turning back to face me and putting his hand on my shoulder. “Our future is now entirely dependent on you and your ponies. Por favor, bring our business back to where it was before. You and you alone have the key to what we can do. I’m counting entirely on you now, my son.”
I choked back a sob. I knew Papa Ferrando was sincere, but there again I thought he might have missed the point — I was practically, if not totally, a greenhorn in the business field; I knew no other business except to do my own cultural Aymara quilts for commissions, which I had been taught by Mama since I was a boy — so how could Papa Ferrando be telling me this all of a sudden??
Nevertheless I knew the only alternative was to accept, so I said yes. “Si, Papa Ferrando,” I said, a little grudgingly.
“You may go and join your ponies in your room,” said Papa Ferrando.
I went back to my room to see the ponies and to discuss how things could be taken one step further with regard to this business….
This was a very different new beginning. It was as if I was literally being born again — starting afresh, albeit this time with the help of the ponies, whom I had once despised for so many years starting from the time I had been kicked by a random horse in my a*** when I was all but three years of age. Thirty years had flown by, so it seemed; and it was as if it took me a whopping three decades to learn to love the ponies for who they were.
Now with the help of Derpy, Flash Sentry, Pinkie Pie, and the two colts Featherweight and Pipsqueak, Donita and I already had a small business running in the marketplace, selling our traditional Aymara tapestries. And it had already been up for about a week.
Many rich customers came to buy from us. It was on one of those days when a bright yellow pegasus mare with a vermillion mane and sunglasses on her muzzle, stopped by our shop to buy a quilt.
“I’d like to buy this piece of quilt,” she proudly declared. “How much is it?”
“It’s 30 quetzals,” I said.
The yellow pegasus mare took a look at the quilt and then wrapped it around herself like a shawl. She then produced 30 quetzals and put it on our cashier counter, while Donita did the transaction for her.
“Thanks,” she said. “Here’s my card. Call me anytime.” She put a card on our desk and then galloped out.
“OK, so here’s some luck for us,” said Donita. “Let’s see.” She took the card and read the name:
Wonderbolts Academy Courses offered: Basic flying, synchronised flying, pas de deux, triple axels, and more!
SPITFIRE Senior Flying Instructor
All right, I thought, as I read the card. This pegasus mare is clearly a flying instructor. What do we do?
“Donita, amor,” I said to my wife, “this is a potential follower that we’ll need.”
“Hmmm,” said Donita.
Suddenly, three men wearing balaclavas and gloves burst into our store. They all wielded rapid-firing sub-machine-guns.
“Where is the safe?” demanded one of the men.
“There’s no safe,” I said. “So sorry about that, senores; we’re just a textile shop and there’s nothing valuable here.”
“NOTHING VALUABLE??” yelled the men. They immediately began opening fire. I grabbed Donita and we ran out the back door of our shop. Thank goodness most of our supplies were stored in my temporary residence at Papa Ferrando’s, and not in the shop.
“The textiles, amor!” cried Donita. “You forgot the textiles!”
“Never mind the textiles!” I cried back. “Life is more important!”
But we were taken by surprise. Armed men in cosplay uniforms of our pony friends — mainly dressed up as Fluttershy, or DJ Pon-3, or Rainbow Dash, or Derpy — lined up the streets and were opening fire at us. We had to run through a back alley in order to avoid them.
“This is the time to raise the alarm!” I yelled. “This is a clear-cut surprise attack from the All Lee people!”
It was indeed. Thank goodness, this back alley took us out of La Paz into the safety of the countryside; we were already exhausted and didn’t know if we could run another meter more.
“I’m tired, amor,” said Donita.
“So am I,” I replied. “Not sure which way we should go.”
“Perhaps you can go this way!” came a male voice from behind us.
We turned around but there was no-one in sight; it was all greenery except for an old vintage car which had red-and-yellow-striped wings, parked not far off. It was also getting dark, being around 6pm.
“Maybe we were hearing voices or something,” said Donita. “Let’s just go on.”
“Aha aha UM UM! Or perhaps you could try the other way!” said the same voice.
This time I was fully sure we distinctly heard this masculine voice with our own ears. We turned around to double-check our surroundings. I was sure that I saw the vintage car’s lights turn on.
“This must be it,” I said. I took a closer look at the vintage car and discovered that its lights were actually its EYES.
“So it was you who spoke…?” I asked the vintage car.
“Yeah,” said the vintage car. “From the way I saw you guys running, I thought you were kind of escaping from those All Lee scumbags.”
“How did… you know???” I gasped.
“My name’s Vincent,” said the vintage car; “and I am one of their ‘antiques’ in their ‘collection’. Years before, Daniele Spintos, the Antique Manager from La Paz who had been recruited by Executive Assistant Manager Justino Diaz, captured me with his men and took me into his possession. I only managed to escape recently with the help of some — er — winged horses who took me out here and told me that this place would be safe for me. Aha aha UM UM! Sorry, that’s just the way I cough; I’m kinda old now and my spare parts are wearing out, so I cough easily.”
“Gesundheit,” said Donita.
“Wait a minute, amigo. You said ‘winged horses’?” I gasped.
“Yeah,” replied Vincent. “I remember the leader of their pack was this grey mare with a blonde mane and crossed eyes.”
Must be Derpy, I thought.
“My name’s Alberto, by the way,” I said; “and this is my wife, Donita.”
“You look a little puzzled, Alberto,” said Vincent. “You mean you know these winged horses?”
“They’re what we call pegasi,” I explained; “singular, pegasus. And yes, we know them. They’re our friends. They’re helping us to revive our business which went bust last month; and so far we’ve been doing so well…. until today, when some robbers wearing cosplay costumes came and looted us. We suspect those robbers were from All Lee, considering their Argentinian accents.”
“You’re not alone,” said Vincent; “for now that you’ve told me this story, I can see that you two and I are in the same boat. Aha aha UM UM! For after all, All Lee Enterprises is under the leadership of its CEO, Don Francisco Juan Perez, one of the most ruthless bosses in all Latin America. I’ve been kicked around by so many such people all my life… aha aha UM UM! ‘Scuse me…. but it was Don Francisco who took the meaning of ruthlessness to a whole new level.
A long long time ago, In a distant land far away, I was the sole car who could fly. And I thought I could show the world That all their dreams would be unfurled; But no-pony out there told me why, Why every boss one after another Was worse than the world’s most abusive mother, They kept on making me doin’ The things that were so undoin’. I tried to break free from their chains Of heartbreak, treachery and disdain. I flew down to Chaco like a plane. That’s where I found this guy!
Oh my, my, this Francisco Juan guy. Was the biggest of the sickest men, I cannot deny. And he left his home and kissed his mama goodbye, Saying “soon I’m gonna be flyin’ high, Soon I’m gonna be flyin’ high.”
Did you know that lord of lords Was nothing more than a big discord? He made use of me for years, they say. It was the year nineteen hundred seventy When Juan Peron returned from sea And it was Don Francisco who made me take him that day. This Peron was smelly and obscure, His presence smelled like poo and manure; I said, “Don’t you make me do it!” But Don Fran said, “You’re gonna prove it!” So I flew away without return, But Don Francisco’s heart with anger burned; He sent his pilots to force me to return To take that Peron guy.
I started singing: My, my, this Francisco Juan guy. Was the biggest of the sickest men, I cannot deny. And he left his home and kissed his mama goodbye, Saying “soon I’m gonna be flyin’ high, Soon I’m gonna be flyin’ high.”
So I finally came to the end of myself When Don Francisco locked me on that shelf Inside that shed of rats and mice. Thank heaven for a little window sill; For that evening, the perfect will Would happen, and give me what I’d deserved! A big grey mare flew down to the window sill, She yanked open the window grills And said, “Come on! Let’s go! Your wings will work, I know!” So I flew off together with her by my side To a new land so perfect, far and wide; She left me here in this countryside, No more would I see that guy.
And she was singing: My, my, this Francisco Juan guy. Was the biggest of the sickest men, I cannot deny. And he left his home and kissed his mama goodbye, Saying “soon I’m gonna be flyin’ high, Soon I’m gonna be flyin’ high.”
“Nice song, Vincent,” I said, “but you don’t have to sing the next verse; let me do it for you.
So we caught a ride down the lanes of the town, Cos we’d been attacked by the All Lee crown; I frankly thought it would’ve been our end. But we found you here waiting us; And that’s how we found a friend we could trust. Who’d gone through the very same twists and bends! And so we’re standing here today, We’ve got to save our land someway; So let us get it crackin’, No more of laze or slackin’! We’ll join the ponies when they come, Stand around this land as one, To shout out: “Death to that socialist Don!” I guess, we’ll burn that guy!
And we’ll be singing: My, my, this Francisco Juan guy. Was the biggest of the sickest men, I cannot deny. And he left his home and kissed his mama goodbye, Saying “soon I’m gonna be flyin’ high, Soon I’m gonna be flyin’ high.”
And we’ll be singing: My, my, this Francisco Juan guy. Was the biggest of the sickest men, I cannot deny. And he left his home and kissed his mama goodbye, Saying “soon I’m gonna be flyin’ high.”
“Excellent songwriting skills you’ve got there, Alberto!” said Vincent. “But right now we need to get down to urgent business — put our words into practicality; fight Don Francisco Juan Perez and all under him!”
“Well, where is he now?” I asked. “I want to hold him accountable for what he’s done to our shop.”
“He should be holding a rendez-vous in the Ion Convention Center in La Paz,” said Vincent. “Come, I’ll take you guys there. It’s International Friendship Day today, August 3rd; and most of the ponies you know are there.”
It was right then and there that I experienced the one time I ever spoke so strongly to anyone. I remember Donita and I getting into Vincent’s car and flying back into La Paz, over the city walls. We flew all the way to the main shopping belt of La Paz, where the Ion Shopping Mall was located; Vincent dropped us there. “I’d better fly off,” he said; “they might be here any minute.”
“Muchas gracias,” said Donita.
Vincent waved back with his wing and then flew off.
Meanwhile, Donita and I combed the whole mall. It was crowded, a typical Saturday; so it was hard for us to make them out.
“Donita,” I said to my wife, “this just proves that they had more than just one reason to come to our city. So — there had been this event all along and we were not aware of it until now.”
“You can see that they were certainly better prepared than we are,” said Donita; “and one more thing — they most likely will be armed when you see them. I’ve got a dagger here with me. What about you, amor?”
“Just a revolver,” I replied; “but that should be ok. I hope so anyway.”
We stood where we were, doing surveillance like undercover agents. Just then, we saw two ponies flying in: Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy.
“So THEY are among the guests??” I wondered.
“Si,” said Donita; “this event revolves around them anyway. I’ve come for such events for so long already myself and I know how it functions — it’s like a walkathon, something like that; we just walk down the street with the actual ponies, as well as the cosplayers. Ahh! Look! Here come the cosplayers!”
I looked hard enough and saw the cosplayers walking in. I immediately recognised a lot of familiar faces, the first one being that of Bangalee Muthusamy, the former All Lee janitor who had since risen through the ranks to become the Stewarding Manager of All Lee; he was cosplaying as Derpy. Among the cosplayers I also saw the wicked witch Natalia Cuartas and her two younger siblings Artur and Alegria, all of them cosplaying as Rainbow Dash; human resource manager Jovento Bajaran and his half-Soviet wife Berlinella, who were both cosplaying as DJ Pon-3; and — wonder of wonders — Benedicto Lee-Guzman himself, who was cosplaying as Fluttershy.
And indeed, their guest-of-honour was to be no other than General Taddeo Spettro, the mayor of La Paz who was nothing more than a puppet for Don Francisco Juan Perez. Perez himself was indeed already IN the crowds, walking and chatting with his managers.
The organisers had clearly planned a wonderful day for everyone; there would be a speech by the organisers, as well as a special item — accompanied by the La Paz Guitar Orchestra, Thunderlane would be performing his signature song, his ode to Granada, the very same song Donita and I had heard at the pub immediately following our wedding a few months back. Then after that would be the walkathon. Lots more ponies were coming in; I recognised the other four members of the Mane 6, as well as Big McIntosh, Braeburn, Thunderlane, Flash Sentry, the two Samba Unicorns (Snips and Snails), Soarin, Shining Armour, Featherweight, and Pipsqueak.
“Friends, comrades, country-bronies!” announced Rainbow Dash, as she took to the stage with Fluttershy. “Buenos dias to one and all! We’re so glad to be here in your city once again! I’m Rainbow Dash!”
“And I’m Fluttershy!” said Fluttershy. “And the two of us will be your….. wait a minute! What the…?” she suddenly cried out — and rightly so; for just behind us we saw a large stampeding crowd of All Lee employees, among them the familiar faces of Dario Coleda, Jose Nerarondine (Taddeo Spettro’s best friend), Huascar Leon, and — wonder of wonders — Derpy. All of them were armed with daggers, like most of us Latinos have been traditionally.
I ran forward, not bothering about the danger, and grabbed Derpy’s right forehoof and dragged her out of the stampeding crowd. “Derpy! What were you doing there?!” I cried. “You know you just almost risked your life big time?!!”
“I just… don’t know what went wrong!” protested Derpy.
“Don’t come and pretend with me!” I yelled back. “You caballos are really locos in your cabezas! First you save my life, then you do this to us! Do you even know who in the name of Santa Maria those muchachos were?!”
“Amor mio, take it easy!” Donita nudged me in urgency.
“Donita, I’ll handle this!” I pushed my wife aside — for the first time in the history of our love. Then I turned back to continue scolding Derpy. “Look, Derpy, it’s not that I want to scold you,” I said, “but you cannot be doing this all the time! So WHAT if they claim to be fans of yours?? Were not your compatriots, Senorita Twilight Sparkle and Senorita Rainbow Dash, the ones who first came into my life? And were you not the one who’d saved my life from those Peronistas so many times?”
“But Alberto, I was only going through the underpass in the suburbian metropolitan station when I saw this happening,” Derpy explained, “and then I asked someone what was going on, and they told me, so I joined!” She began to weep.
“You still had the cheek to ASK?!!” I yelled. “Caramba! I thought I’d found a true friend in you among all of them…. but you STILL did this! And of all people I must see you with, it MUST be those Peronistas! Oh BOYYY!!”
“ALBERTO! Stop your nonsense!” Donita scolded me. “You’re making the poor mare cry!”
“KEEP AN EYE ON HER!!!” I yelled. From where I was, I saw Rainbow Dash calling for Don Francisco Juan Perez to come on stage “to say a few words” — apparently HE was among the organising team for this event.
“Muchas gracias, todo el mundo, muchas gracias!” said Don Francisco as he stood at the pulpit. “I am muy happy to have been chosen to be the one among the organising committee to do today’s sharing! Special thanks also to Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy for being muy kind to us as to be our emcees!”
Applause from all around. I continued marching up to Don Francisco, steadily thinking about what I was going to say.
“Allow me to share how this event came about,” went on Don Francisco. “We had wanted to start this kind of event for the longest time. However due to rising oil prices, that did not seem feasible. It was however in February this year, upon joining the flow of the rest of the world and retrenching some of our staff, we were finally able to save up enough money within less than seven months to start this wonderful event. I am forever thankful for the help of all my staff, especially Benz, my general manager, who is one of our cosplayers for today. I would also like to thank….”
“DON FRANCISCO JUAN PEREZ!” I shouted.
I was a little taken aback at the way my voice resonated; for now all eyes were on me; including those of many unfamiliar faces on this shopping stretch, which had joined the event along the way.
“Don Francisco Juan Perez! You ruined my life!” I continued my rant. “You don’t for one minute think I don’t know what you’ve done before! You are a loco muchacho who knows nothing except to womanise! You think I don’t know — you killed your first wife and son before and re-married a rich woman! And, you sexist, because you had no sons, of all women you just HAD to marry the widow of your ex-boss! You are the most sick and immoral and loco muchacho that ever walked the face of the planet! I CURSE the day I ever thought of joining your company!”
“QUE DIJISTE?!” suddenly roared Don Francisco.
“Don Francisco Juan Perez! Heaven will NEVER forgive you! I hope your event today gets ruined by stormy weather!” I shouted. “Everypony present, escuchame: This man, Don Francisco Juan Perez, is nothing but a pimp and a sexist and a womaniser! He deserves to die! Do NOT support any of his events in future!”
“There’s a gato loco in our midst! Escort him out!” Don Francisco called for his guards. Led by Kazakstani textile merchant Saldi Grushevsky, the guards grabbed me by my arms; I admit I was completely upstaged. “Donita! Help me!” I called.
“Coming!” I heard Donita’s voice. Derpy was apparently carrying Donita on her back; and they were flying towards me as I was being led out by the guards.
“Let him go!” said Donita to Grushevsky. “He’s my husband; I’ll handle him!”
“Don Francisco! You will wish you had never been born!” I continued yelling. “You will regret that you ever deceived me this way!”
* * *
RAINBOW DASH: I guess that must have been indeed a very embarassing moment for poor Alberto. To attempt to expose his worst enemy in public, on a day known universally as “International Friendship Day”, a day stereotyped by many as one for the whole world to unite as friends despite differences. I believe Alberto had indeed tried his best to do so; but as HRH Princess Celestia and HRH Princess Luna later would reveal to us, earlier that same day his shop had been robbed by the very same cosplayers who would later appear at the IFD fiesta in the same city.
Now Fluttershy and I were indeed taken aback by the very incident; but we tried out best to continue with the walkathon programme as we’d planned. The organisers, indeed, were Hasbro Bolivia — but in name only; we’d only find out much later from Their Royal Highnesses as to who were the real financial sponsors behind the event.
We saw numerous people running up to these carts pushed by Hasbro specialists from Bolivia, giving out free small scale models of all of us to those who produced their phones and showed that they’d “liked” the Hasbro Bolivia page on Facebook. Rarity, Pinkie Pie, Applejack, and Big McIntosh were among the ponies in the entourage; apparently mixing pretty well with most of the crowd, including those who hated Alberto’s guts.
Disaster struck midway when we heard a couple of gunshots halfway down the stretch of road in La Paz where the walkathon was held. Shouts of “HELP! Somepony has just shot Perez!” were heard everywhere.
Apparently three bullets from goodness-knows-where had hit Don Francisco right in the leg, the arse, and the abdomen. Perez, unconscious but still alive, was nonetheless critically wounded; the ambulances were called in and he was rushed to hospital.
“Was that Alberto who did that?” wondered Fluttershy.
“They’re sure to start pointing fingers at Alberto for this,” I said; “but from what I can see he would not be so foolhardy.”
And just second afterward, it began to pour cats and dogs. Shining Armour came up to us just then. “The two of you,” he said, “Her Royal Highness Princess Celestia is expecting you both.”
Fluttershy and I flew straight to Canterlot Castle, where our fellow ponies of all four races had gathered. HRH Princess Celestia herself was chairing the meeting.
“Friends, comrades, country-ponies,” she announced, “it seems we have just fallen into one of the biggest of big traps. Apparently my sister and I had received an email from Hasbro Bolivia, asking us all to be guests of honour at this year’s IFD event in their country. Only now, after much investigations, do we realise what really has happened. Luna, tell them.”
“The event by itself as organised by Hasbro would not have been bad normally,” said Princess Luna, “but sadly this year it was sponsored by Don Francisco Juan Perez, the multi-billionaire who, as we discussed before, is a ‘brony’ only in name, just like all of his employees in All Lee. In reality, he’s nothing more than a socialist who has based most of his beliefs on the teachings of the late Argentinian dictator Juan Peron.”
“So we accepted Hasbro Bolivia’s invitation,” said Princess Celestia; “but only once we were halfway through it, did we realise who made up the bulk of the audience therein. It’s a good thing none of the special items or events were put up. Forced to take matters into our own hands, Luna and I decided to darken the sky a bit and enforce a heavy downpour with lots of lightning, in order to disperse the congregation.”
“Have any of you anything to add?” said Princess Luna.
“I do,” said Derpy. “Before we even discovered anything, Alberto somehow beat us to it. But he made a big scene; even his wife couldn’t stop him, not to mention me. The security staff had to escort him out. I took him and Donita to the next town — Chaco — so we could talk about things calmly. He has since calmed down somewhat; I’ve given him some money so that he can rebuild his shop.”
“Allow me to cut you there, Derpy,” I put in. “Your Highness, moments after Derpy and Alberto and Donita left, and seconds before the thunderstorm began, Fluttershy and I witnessed a tragic event — Don Francisco was shot three times when halfway giving his speech. He was critically wounded and has since been hospitalised. We do not know who the culpable is, but we are certain that it was not Alberto.”
“We will hence need to verify whether your claims are true or not, Rainbow Dash,” said Princess Celestia. “We love Alberto for who he is, however if he breaks the law, he has to be chastised in some way, like everyone else.”
“From what I can see,” said Princess Luna, “things do not look too good on Alberto’s side, as the evidence clearly is not in his favour. Think about it: Minutes before the incident happened, he was already making a scene. Don Francisco then ordered security to hustle him out. It’s not surprising if thereafter, he would have had a motive for vengeance. Do not forget also that he feels wronged by Don Francisco.”
“May I suggest to you all this proposal,” added Princess Celestia; “Flash Sentry, you go and make sure that Don Francisco is OK and that he’s not going to die. And you, Derpy, you’re the one whom Alberto can best identify with; you go take care of him. The both of you may go now. This is an order.”
Shortly after Derpy and Flash Sentry left, Dr Whooves came running in. “Your Highness,” he cried, “I bring tragic tidings! I have been doing research in my laboratory and have discovered that the Nightmare Poison gives its victims only half a year or less to live, depending on the severity of the infliction! And I remember Alberto was infected with the nightmare poison! We’d better go to Dbrnouk’s and find a quick antidote; I’ve got ingredients to make an antidote here with me, but I cannot guarantee that I’d complete it all in less than half a year!”
“This is serious!” cried Princess Celestia. “Big Mac, Braeburn, Thunderlane, Rainbow Dash, Snips, Snails, the five of you will be in charge of Operation Dbrnouk! Quick, go to Passionless Valley now; this is an order!”
* * *
ALBERTO: Donita was so flabbergasted by my impulsiveness that day that she walked away from me. That was, I remember, the last time I ever saw her face to face. It was VERY tragic.
I dared not to go back home, for fear that I might have to face Papa Ferrando again. I could do nothing but wander the streets. However, deep inside me, I was still not over Donita.
As I sat down on a park bench in my own home city late that night, and made myself a fire and some soup, I could see no true future for myself if things went on this way. Tearfully, I lamented the future.
Goodbye four leaf clovers, hello gone awry. Don’t cry the fight ain’t over, unless you let it pass you by. I’m looking for a song to sing, yeah. I’m looking for a friend to borrow. I’m looking for my radio. So I might find a heart to follow. I’ve never been just longing for your loving. I’ve never been just wearing down to nothing. I’ve never been just looking for a reason. So that baby you’d be thinking of me.
All that I have found in reason, is reason just to not believe. When all that you are left is treason, it’s treason just to let it be. I’m looking for a song to sing, yeah. I’m looking for a friend to borrow. I’m looking for my radio. So I might find a heart to follow. I’ve never been just longing for your loving. I’ve never been just wearing down to nothing. I’ve never been just looking for a reason. So that baby you’d be thinking of these blue yonder dreams and second hand shoes, You’re so far gone that you’re left to lose. And it’s too late to go home all alone. You’re the tar in that old cigar. And the worn out cable on the cable car. And you’re too tired to admit you’ve got to choose.
“I’m looking for a song to sing…..” I began again, when I happened to see something flying in the sky. And lo and behold, Derpy came flying down into the park.
“You look dejected, Alberto,” she said, her walled eyes having a hint of sympathy. “Is anything the matter?”
“You bet there is,” I replied. “Donita has just walked out on me just because of what happened earlier today!”
“I understand how you feel,” said Derpy, taking my hand in her left forehoof. “I’ve been there so many times. I heard in the song you sang earlier on, how sad you were. But I have been there before and have emerged from the fray nonetheless; if I could do it, I believe you can too.
I have never known, wonders in my life. I could never find, a way that made true love. Everyone has dreams, that they want to see. I was once despised and scorned by all, but deep within my heart I knew That soon, you’d be by my side, You would help me find myself, As long as love would hold us strong. You would, give me happiness, Make my world brand new, All because you were, always by my side.
I heard the words of Derpy’s song and knew that she had a point; she was, after all, the stone the builders rejected, which had since become the chief cornerstone of the pony fandom. Clasping her right forehoof in my hand, I sang back to her:
I too was afraid, but now I can see, Love is all we need, to give us hope and strength. In your eyes I see, my tomorrows shine.
And then we sang together:
Oh, if only everypony knew, that deep within their hearts it’s true. Because, you are by my side, You will take me back to my home, As long as love will hold strong. You will, give me happiness, Make my world brand new, All because you are, always by my side, You are always by my side.
And as we finished the last lines, we hugged each other very tightly. I knew that Derpy was THE one pony who could truly relate to me, seeing that we had been through that kind of rejection practically all our lives long.
“You need to be strong,” said Derpy. “I have been strong and kept my flame burning bright amidst all the rejection. Alberto, you can do the same.”
“I can,” I said, “and I will, even if it means starting afresh!” And with that, I stood up and sang out:
And the wars and fights shall cease! Everypony dwells in peace! And we’ll sing them songs that speak of makin’ love!
No cheating! No parasprites! No heartaches! You love me now, you love me now! No nightmares! No neighsayers! No hacking! You love me now, you love me now!
For eternity, love is all we need! All we need to see us through!
“I’m glad you are feeling better now, Alberto,” said Derpy. “Even if nopony else likes you, I do.”
“You are my friend, Derpy,” I said. “I sometimes wish there were a way….”
Suddenly, my phone beeped in my pocket. I took it out and read the text. “Caramba!” I cried; for it was Mama bringing me evil tidings:
Alberto my son, it’s Mama here. Don Francisco Perez is in hospital and in critical condition. Apparently he was shot while giving a speech at a fiesta in the city, and you were seen shouting at him less than an hour before he was shot. Did you have anything to do with it?
“What’s up, Alberto?” asked Derpy. “Share it with me, buddy.”
I showed her the text. “Read this yourself,” I said.
“Oh no. That sounds bad,” said Derpy. “Sounds like they’re blaming you for that. But I know you had nothing to do with it, as I was the one who took you back to your shop. You certainly would not have returned there while the event was on, for fear that they might chase you out again. Furthermore, I was with you at the time of the incident, as was Donita; so I know you’re innocent.”
“That I know, Derpy,” I replied; “but that doesn’t matter. Donita’s pissed with me because she thought I was embarassing her family. She ran away moments after Flash Sentry came to call you to the meeting with Princess Celestia. Her last words to me were, ‘Adios para siempre, Alberto Garcia; I hope you’ve enjoyed all that attention you got!’ and then she went away, leaving me in that shop which was all but overturned since the robbery.”
“Take it easy, pally,” said Derpy, stroking me on my back.
“I don’t know why,” I said, noting a sudden feeling overcoming me, “but something inside my heart is telling me that I should go and pay Don Francisco a visit in hospital, as much as he and I may be enemies.”
“That true too,” said Derpy. “Why not? Just hop on my back and I’ll fly you there.”
So I jumped on Derpy’s back and she flew with me to the Bolivia General Hospital; after checking in, both of us went to Don Francisco Perez’s ward in the ICU. I saw Rosa, his daughter who had previously helped me in a predicament I’d had with Don Francisco about half a year ago, standing outside and listening to the doctor.
“Your father’s disc in his back was ruptured by the abdominal shot,” the doctor was saying, “the leg shot was a minor graze, but what I’m most concerned about is the shot in his arse — that was a near-fatal shot as it almost got his liver. He’s still in danger. We may have to operate on him again.”
“Oh no,” said Derpy. “Better go and comfort Rosa. She looks like she’s going to cry.”
“Si,” I said. I went up to Rosa. “Rosa, como esta?” I asked her kindly.
But Rosa turned on me in anger. “You still have the cheek to show up here?!!” she screeched, starting to go hysterical and hit me. Good thing the nurses came to hold her down.
“Calm it, Rosa! We can talk things over!” I cried. “No need to freak out like that!”
“Senorita Perez, please keep quiet!” ordered a staff nurse. “You’re in the ICU and the other patients need rest! If you want to shout, go out of the hospital and shout all you like! Not inside here!”
“ENOUGH!” yelled Rosa, clearly so griefstricken that she was oblivious to what the head nurse was telling her. “So in everyone else’s eyes, you’re a great man!” And with those words, she stormed out of the hospital.
“Rosa! Rosa!” I called after her, but she was gone.
“Looks like you really have a lot of work to do before you can get Donita back,” said Derpy, “but even if Donita doesn’t want you, I do. You don’t have to be a married man to be happy. You don’t even need children of your own. You just need friends. The wonderful thing about us is that our motto is, ‘Friendship is Magic’. And the magic is fulfilled when we make a positive difference in one another’s lives.”
I said nothing, but hugged Derpy in reply. I was just so lost for words….
* * *
FLASH SENTRY: I had been assigned by Princess Celestia to observe Don Francisco Perez. I observed his progress in the hospital mainly from his ward window.
I remember that after the second operation, the doctor had told Rosa Perez, “We’ve done our best. Your Papa is temporarily out of danger. But we’re not sure when he’ll come to. Maybe pretty soon, maybe never. But keep talking to him. It might help wake him.”
I went into the hospital as a visitor of Don Francisco. Following the directions of the nurses, I soon found his ward. I heard the sound of a guitar inside. As I opened the door gently with my hoof, I saw Rosa sitting beside her father, who was lying unconscious on the bed in the ward, while his EKG meter was beeping to show his heartbeat. Rosa was playing a guitar and singing this song:
I’ve seen just how strong the seedlings are, Despite wind and rain, they still go far. They take in the sunlight and the air, And turn into flowers fair.
I’ve seen just how brave the birdies are, Whenever they want to fly so far, They slowly flap both their wings to fly, High up into the sky.
You must wipe away the hurt and the tears, And to stand and face your deepest fears. Like the seedlings brave the wind and rain, Never more give in!
You must wipe away the hurt and the tears, And to stand and face your deepest fears. With the strength that birdies fly therein, Never more to give in.
As she sang the lines “You must wipe away your hurt and your tears”, a huge pearl-like tear fell from one of her eyes. I could really see how griefstricken Rosalinda Perez was at seeing her father ending up like that.
“Rosa,” I said, “are you ok?”
“Si, I’m fine,” she said. “But Papa isn’t.”
“But he seems to be sleeping peacefully,” I explained to her.
“Don’t be fooled,” said Rosa; “Papa is out of danger but still in critical condition; the only way to save him is to keep talking to him, the doctor said.”
“Rosalinda,” I said to her, “I am sure you are aware of the numerous outrages your papa has committed, and about how he has been ill-treating you since you were a girl.”
“Si,” said Rosa; “I am fully aware of all that. And I do believe that Papa deserves to be duly punished for all he has done. Still, it is not right for anyone but G-d himself to mete out any punishment.”
“Has it ever occurred to you,” I went on, “that your papa may have committed criminal breaches of trust before?”
“He is a bad papa,” said Rosa, “and his staff are all equally bad people. However I do know the law, and from what I know, I do not find him guilty of any criminal breach of trust.”
“Have you ever wondered how your papa became so wealthy and rose to his present position as CEO of All Lee?” I asked.
Rosa rose to her feet and her eyes flashed at me. “Have you been seeing that rat Alberto?” she demanded, her voice now having an obvious hint of hysterical rage.
“Not recently I haven’t,” I said truthfully. “Why do you ask?”
“Alberto is the only person I know who would go so far as to accuse my papa without any evidence,” said Rosa. “And furthermore he is the only possible person who would have had a motive for shooting my papa like that.”
“But you too are also pointing fingers at Alberto without any tangible evidence that it was indeed him,” I pointed out. “And furthermore, from what I’ve been hearing from Derpy and the others…. were you not the first person to come to his rescue when he needed evidence against your papa?”
Rosalinda choked back a sob. “Flash,” she said, “I think it’s about time I told you the truth. Follow me, and promise me you won’t tell anypony about this until I tell you when.”
* * *
HUASCAR LEON: I was there when Alberto kicked up a scene at the IFD Fiesta in La Paz. While still with the rest of the All Lee staff, I was beginning to feel very cold in their presence. The main reason was because my younger sister Valeria was now pregnant with Don Francisco’s child!!
I was also there when Don Francisco was shot. I was probably the only one who thought that Don Francisco deserved to be shot like that, for having seduced my kid sister. I swore from that time on that I would get my revenge by transferring my allegiance to Don Francisco’s arch-enemy, Alberto Garcia — and his entire company with it.
I would, of course, have to first take my sister in hand for having allowed herself to be seduced by Don Francisco. When I got home that evening, I heard Papa on the phone with someone.
“Hola?” Papa was saying. “Hola? Qui?…. Oi! YOU MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS! And if you dare to talk to me like that again, I WILL KILL YOU!!!” He slammed down the phone in a rage.
“Papa, que pasa?” I asked.
“Some idiot just threatened me with my life, your mama’s life, your life, and the lives of your sisters!” Papa screamed. “I don’t know who he is!”
“Donde esta Valeria?” I asked Papa, making sure I stayed on topic.
“She’s gone to town for the day,” Papa said, “with a sub-machine gun in her hand; she took your laptop as well.”
Si, and not for the first time at that. But it was really amazing why this time she had not come home until now — it was already almost 10pm.
“Huascar, better go find Valeria,” said Papa. “I suspect her going missing may have something to do with that muchacho who called just now.”
Acting on Papa’s instructions, I hurried down to La Paz. There was only one place that Valeria would have gone if she’d gone to town — NATAS shopping mall, which was diagonally across from ION. I was pretty amazed that in the crowd earlier that day, I had not seen Valeria anywhere.
I went into NATAS. The security officer stopped me. “Sorry senor, but the mall is closing shortly,” he said.
“Senor, have you seen this girl?” I asked, taking out my phone and showing the security officer a recent photo of Valeria.
“Oh!” cried the officer. “This one! She ran up the emergency escape staircase with a machine gun earlier today. We tried in vain to stop her; our men were afraid as she was armed. She did not come down ever since. We have been monitoring. There is only one emergency staircase here.”
“Caramba!” I gasped. With the officer leading the way, I went up the emergency staircase. We combed all the shopping mall floors, but we found no trace of Valeria.
“There’s only one other place,” said the officer. “Come with me.”
He took me to the roof access. And it was there at the very place that we found Valeria. She had apparently been shot right through her heart; her submachine gun was not in her hands, apparently it had been kicked out of her grasp by someone. We also found lots of bloodstains. It was clear that SOMEONE ELSE had been present and killed her.
“Valeria!” I cried. “Valeria! Que pasa!? VALERIA!!!!!”
It was clear that she was dead beyond any means of possible revival. The police were immediately called in, as were the medics. The post-mortem revealed that Valeria, who had been with child all along, had gotten into a scuffle with someone on the roof access of NATAS; the bullet that had delivered that one fatal shot through her heart, was believed to have come from an AWPer Hand sniper rifle used from a distance by someone who had been believed to be at the sixth floor of ION and who was observing the scuffle, and then shot Valeria right then and there. The unborn child had been killed likewise.
According to the evidence from the bullet, the assassin was believed to be Ramon Prada, now one of the top men in All Lee, and also the man who had helped Taddeo Spettro rise to power. Prada himself was indeed now one of the candidates running for mayor of Chaco.
A wake was held the next day for Valeria at the Temple of the Sun in Soledad; then also at the Church of San Pedro in Chaco. Valeria was then buried according to her wishes, at the cemetery in Sucre, where she had been born merely 20 years ago.
After the funeral, I decided that I would call on Alberto. I was fully aware by this time that, because of what he had done, he would surely have received a lawsuit from Don Francisco’s lawyers by now. I had to find a way to save him. So I called on Derpy, the mail mare who had been my best pony friend as much as she had also been Alberto’s best pony friend.
“How’s Alberto doing?” I asked.
“He’s feeling very depressed, almost suicidal,” said Derpy; “his wife has left him, he can’t go back to his in-laws’ home, and his mother no longer wants him in her house; he has to sleep on a park bench now. Also, his mother just received in the mail, a lawsuit from Don Francisco’s lawyers. I’ve been comforting the poor boy for the last few days.”
“My sister was killed by Don Francisco’s men,” I said to Derpy. “I wish I could help Alberto, but I’m not sure if he still thinks I’m the cause of his wife leaving him.”
“Take it easy,” said Derpy; “when there’s a will, there’s a way. I don’t see what Alberto would have against you, as it’s Don Francisco he’s after.”
I could not decide whether to laugh or cry….
* * *
BRAEBURN: It was during this period of time that I, together with Big McIntosh, Thunderlane, Rainbow Dash, and the two samba unicorn colts Snips and Snails, set off for Syldavia; according to what Dr Whooves had told us, Alberto was still infected with the Nightmare Poison, and would die if left untreated for another half-year. We HAD to find THE cure — which was believed to be in the hands of Wladimir Dbrnouk, the boss of the Passionless Valley in Syldavia.
It took us some time before we eventually found the Passionless Valley; along the way, we were ambushed by the Cuartas siblings.
“Ah! Ah! Heaven’s will for us to be meeting here!” laughed Artur Cuartas.
A fight ensued; Natalia Cuartas’s magic was certainly powerful, so Snips and Snails had to strategise to fight her. Big Mac and I took on Artur Cuartas, while Thunderlane and Rainbow Dash tackled Alegria Cuartas.
Within a matter of minutes, Dashie and Thunderlane managed to kill Artur; and Alegria likewise was destroyed by a little rugby tackle from Big Mac and myself. Snips and Snails had a lot of trouble fighting Natalia in terms of magic powers, but they did succeed in pushing her — by some miraculous chance — onto a patch of Nightmare Poison plants.
“OWWW!” yelled Natalia. “Caramba! What’s up with me?! I feel …. strange..!” And with those words, she ran away.
“Natalia Cuartas! What’s your problem now, eh? Scared to fight two unicorn colts?” Snips taunted her.
“Enough of that; the infliction of Nightmare Poison she’s gotten is enough to kill her within a matter of hour of contact,” I said, noting the area of Nightmare Poison plants she’d fallen onto. “Let’s proceed; Dbrnouk Manor isn’t far from here.”
When we finally reached Dbrnouk Manor, Lisa Dbrnouk was there to greet us. “Good that you’re here!” she said. “I know why you’ve come — to find the Nightmare Poison antidote, right?”
“We have indeed,” said Big McIntosh. “Your mama has it with her, does she not?”
“Yeah,” said Lisa. “But we can’t disturb her now; she’s sleeping. Come, let’s go for a walk in the valley to stretch our legs first. We’ll talk more later.”
We walked out into the forests of the Passionless Valley. Eventually we came to the bottom of a mountain called Heartbreak Hill.
“Heartbreak Hill is so named because of its shape,” said Lisa; “if you can look at it from a bird’s eye view, you’ll see it sort of resembles a heart with an arrow shot right through it.”
“Well said!” came a man’s voice from nearby. “Your wounds, and the loss of my eye, was all because of that cunt Alberto Garcia! Good thing we can meet here; God must have willed this!”
“That’s Papa’s voice!” gasped Lisa Dbrnouk in horror.
Indeed, Wladimir Dbrnouk, now with a big patch over his right eye, was sitting under the trees together with Natalia Cuartas, who had been critically wounded from the Nightmare Poison.
“This is certainly a divine appointment, that we should be meeting here!” said Wladimir to Natalia.
“Caramba! My body’s critically wounded from the goddamn Nightmare Poison Plant! And you don’t give a fuck!” Natalia murmured. “Por favor, stop making me empty promises, Senor Dbrnouk!”
“No, no, my lovely Natalia!” Wladimir pleaded. “What do you mean I don’t give a fuck?! We have to brainstorm together! Look, you’re critically wounded, but my heart’s even more critically wounded!”
Snails recognised the wicked witch. “So — Natalia Cuartas somehow survived!” he gasped.
It was true; while Natalia Cuartas had indeed been critically wounded by the Nightmare Poison plant, it was nonetheless her iron will for revenge that spurred her to live on as far as possible. She was herself after the very same antidote for herself, that we were after for Alberto.
“I’m the boss of this valley,” said Wladimir; “and I have the antidote to the poison on you. Or at least, half of it. The other half is in the hands of that slut! We must fight and kill her, and the full antidote will be all yours!”
Natalia Cuartas was not convinced. “Since that’s the case,” she shouted, “why do you continue being such a hypocrite?!! The antidote is in your wife’s hands! Your wife and you are now enemies; and even if you were to kill her, how the fuck would you be able to acquire the antidote?!!”
“Listen, Natalia, my dearest!” Wladimir grovelled at the wicked witch’s feet. “I have a plan; I know how we can fight her! You must, however, promise to cooperate!”
“Caramba! Senor Dbrnouk! It should not be hard for you to see that I’m a nun!” cried Natalia. “I am from the order of the Franciscan Missionaries of Mary — Sister Natalia Cuartas, F.M.M.! That is my full name! I am celibate, and celibate I will be till the day I die! You want to give me the antidote, also can; you don’t want to give me, also can! Makes no difference to me!”
“You misunderstand me, sweetie!” said Wladimir. “What matters to me most is your happiness! I am all ready to grab the antidote from that slut just for you, even if it means having to kill my own flesh-and-blood daughter!”
Lisa Dbrnouk heard those very words and was about to scream; but I used my hoof and covered her mouth. “Not now, Lisa!” I whispered. “I’ll tell you when the time is right! Continue observing them discreetly!”
“So!” Natalia Cuartas continued ranting at Wladimir. “Your antidote is in the hands of another lover?!”
“No! Never!” cried Wladimir. “That slut has hidden the other half of the antidote in a secret place which only she knows!”
“All right. Bueno. Explain what you want to do,” said Natalia, exasperated.
“OK, this is what we’ll do,” said Wladimir. “I’ll lure my daughter over with some sweet-talk. When I give you the signal, you push her right smack into the centre of the Nightmare Poison plants. We’ll use my daughter as a way of making that slut hand over the antidote, in the hope that she would want my daughter to be saved! Sadly though, there is only ONE antidote pill; even if I gave it to you, I would not be able thence to save the life of my daughter.”
“We don’t need to use the real Nightmare Poison plant, Wladimir,” said Natalia. “We can just fake it, and make it appear as if she were really poisoned. That way both my life and her life would be saved!
“Amigo! That slut is very scheming! She will certainly know it if we were to fake it!” Wladimir exclaimed. “Now listen to me: We’ll wait here for half a night, then I will lure my daughter over, she won’t half know what to expect!
Don’t think for one minute it’s so great, Have a look, you will see what is true fate! Just listen to me carefully now, My words could not have been more clear! This is more than just empty promises; You see, I’m the lord of this land. Surely you know by now what the truth is: Everything is all but in my hands!
So prepare thou thy heart, and wait for me; I will bring news from heaven above. The day of the Lord will come on us, so be still! You will soon discover, if you listen to me, No matter how hard things may get, we won’t go wrong, For it’ll all work out well in the end! I will shout it to you from the heart: Prepare thyself!
On hearing this evil song from her father, as well as all the words he had spoken to Natalia, poor Lisa was beginning to cry. I held her in my forelegs and used my hooves to stroke her.
Wladimir continued his song of reassurance to Natalia:
Soon you will discover my honesty, And I’ll always be here by your side. Just lean on me darling, don’t suspect; I assure you that all will be well! Our future will be full of hope. We’ll never have to suffer no more. I remind you again and again: I am your one and only saviour!
Let’s prepare this plan from Alpha to Omega, With your help can we succeed in this crime! This plan is so hard to come by, But sure we will see to The things we will soon do, To make our dreams come true; For I am your one hope, your only one saviour, Me — the master of Passionless Valley! For my standards are higher than you think: Prepare thyself!
Yes, my standards are higher than you think: Prepare thyself!
“Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah!” laughed Wladimir as he finished his evil gloating song.
“Leave me alone, all of you,” said Lisa, “I want to be alone here for the night.”
“But Lisa… “ I begged her. “Your papa cannot do this to you!”
“Just leave me,” Lisa repeated.
“Well, OK,” I said. “Come, fellow ponies, let’s go.”
We walked further on, being sure not to get hurt by the Nightmare Poison flowers. Eventually we found a patch of ground that was barren, where we could sleep for the night.
“I don’t feel comfortable leaving Lisa Dbrnouk on her own,” I told the others; “good thing we can still see her from here.”
“I’ll go and keep watch on her,” said Rainbow Dash. “From a distance, I mean. It’s for her own safety. She’s certainly no match for her own father. You guys wait me here; I’ll text you to inform you how she’s doing.”
* * *
ALBERTO: I’d been living alone in the park for a week now and managing well, with the ponies coming to pay me occasional visits. Now the day came when I was so tired that I accidentally banged into a passer-by who was taking a stroll in the park; I only found out later that this was part of the infection of the Nightmare Poison of which I had contracted when I was in Syldavia.
“Sorry, senor,” I said to the man whom I’d banged into, an obvious naval officer from his clothing.
“Impudent young kid!” said the naval officer. “You clearly don’t know who I am. One day you will regret you crossed my path! Just remember: My name is Sean O’Hara!”
And with that, he walked away. He had a clear-cut Celtic accent; the name was obviously Irish. I knew who he was, albeit not very well; he was a rich Irish businessman who was now based in Bolivia, and was the boss of a shop that sold computer games, not far from Mama’s residence.
This fatigue that was overcoming me, as I mentioned earlier, was the doing of the Nightmare Poison; I knew without any doubt that I had to get myself over this. The only way would have to be to find the antidote, which I knew Dr Whooves was supposedly making.
My distant cousin Timmy Garcia, the one I’d met when I was living in Syldavia, came to find me in the park. “I’ve rented a flat,” he said; “we can move in together. You don’t have to live here like a vagrant on your own. It’s actually illegal.”
“Gracias,” I said. So I moved in to stay with Timmy in his one-room flat, which was located in the northern Bolivian town of Buena Vista.
The next day, we had a knock on the door. Timmy answered it. It turned out to be a lawyer. “My name’s Raul Fernandes,” he said; “and I’m looking for Senhor Alberto Garcia.” His accent was clearly Brazilian.
I heard my name and came running to the door. “That’s me,” I said. “Who are you and how did you find out where I was living?”
“My name’s Raul Fernandes, and I’m a lawyer,” said Fernandes, producing his namecard. “Here’s my card. I have been sent to represent you; you apparently have a court case scheduled for tomorrow, against Dom Francisco Juan Perez.”
“I don’t believe you,” I said. “I did not call for any lawyers. Also I just moved in here, so I am actually pretty creeped out at how you found my present residence. May I know who sent you to me?”
“I’m sorry, but the person has requested to remain a mystery,” said Fernandes.
“Well, Senor Fernandes, I really cannot accept your help then,” I said.
“If you don’t accept my help Senor Garcia, I’m not sure how you’re going to win,” said Fernandes; “because Dom Francisco has engaged a very strong lawyer to represent him, and you do need a strong defense. You should be thankful that at least someone here is willing to help you.” His flat, monotonous voice did not once sound angry.
“Senor Fernandes, if you are serious about helping me,” I said, “you will let me see the person who sent you, face to face.”
Fernandes hesitated a bit. “All right then,” he said. “Come with me.”
Fernandes took me to a graveyard in his car. All the while when we were journeying there, I did not notice any further hint of suspicion in his behaviour. He stopped at a graveyard, took me out, and pointed to a familiar figure in the distance, standing in front of a tombstone. I recognised Huascar Leon at once.
“That’s him,” said Fernandes. “That’s the man who sent me to you. If you need my help, just call me.” And he went back to his car and drove off.
“Huascar?” I asked, still a little reserved within me about the bad experiences I’d had with him before, especially the Bel Mundo case.
“Garcia!” said Huascar, turning to face me. “I heard about your predicament. I wanted to call on you, but was afraid to disturb you, seeing that Donita had left you.”
I was about to accuse Huascar of stealing Donita, but thought very carefully, giving him full benefit of the doubt.
“You were the one who sent me the lawyer?” I asked him.
“Si,” said Huascar. “Derpy told me that you’d moved into this flat with your cousin. So I sent you a lawyer — MY personal family lawyer — to help you in your court case against that cunt Don Francisco tomorrow. It took me a long time for me to get my papa to say yes to this.”
“Wait a minute,” I said. “Did I hear you right — you just called Don Francisco a cunt?”
“Si, you heard me right,” said Huascar. “I hate him with a sizzling hot hatred.”
“But I thought you were one of his assistant managers..?” I wondered. “Given that you started working for him six months before I joined All Lee?”
“Well, do you think you’d continue working for anyone who does this to you?” said Huascar, pointing at the gravestone before him. I looked at the epitaph thereon, and it read:
R.I.P. In loving memory of ÑUSTA INCA VALERÍA LEÓN 1998-2018 Santa Maria mater dei, ora pro nobis. Amen
“She was my sister,” explained Huascar. “The oldest of my three kid sisters, the rascal who kept stealing my laptop when I wasn’t looking. I found her dead just the other day, the same day that you made a scene at the IFD fiesta, with a submachine gun a few yards away, on top of the NATAS building in La Paz. Apparently she’d been sniped to death by one, maybe more, of Don Francisco’s men.
“Closer inspection revealed that she was also the one who had been responsible for shooting Don Francisco three times earlier that day. Some of Don Francisco’s men had been on a higher floor in ION, and they’d seen her sniping him; and so they sniped her to death. Which ones, I really don’t know as I was downstairs all along.
“I sometimes wish she had killed Don Francisco utterly. Then this death of hers would not have been in vain. For after we found her body, it was revealed that she had been with child — with Don Francisco’s child. Which was also killed along with her.
“About a week before her death, Valeria had grown very quiet, and refused to speak to us. She would even skip meals on purpose and go more frequently to the toilet to retch. It was only after her death that we found that the reason for such behaviour on her part was because she had actually been pregnant all along.
“My guess is that she must have gone into severe depression upon discovering that she’d been seduced by that cunt. No wonder she even contemplated shooting him to death. Yet in the end both she and the unborn child inside her were killed, by the employees of the very man who was that child’s biological father.
“Because of this one incident, I swore to myself: I will transfer ALL my allegiance over to you, Senor Alberto Garcia. I will NEVER let that cunt off for seducing and then later assassinating my sister like that. As I said before, I now hate him with a sizzling hot hatred, beyond any form of verbal description. I am willing to help you out as much as possible, Garcia. I know you are suspicious of me because of past experiences we’ve had with each other; but let me assure you this time that I am serious about what I’m saying.”
“Huascar,” I said, “don’t worry. I trust you. In fact I would love to begin this friendship afresh, if you’re ok with it.”
“I certainly am OK, Garcia,” said Huascar. “And I have to say, I fully admire your courage that day, the day you actually stood up to Don Francisco when he was making that speech. For now I know that Hasbro Bolivia was only the nominal organiser of that event; the real organiser, in terms of finances, was Don Francisco Juan Perez. If I had known that he was the one behind all my troubles, I would never have supported that event. Indeed, I am very proud of you, Garcia. You are a man who has that iron will that spurs you on to stand up for your rights no matter what the cost is.
“There is however but one thing I’ve got to tell you, amigo. You do have that thing about you which can often cause you to make careless mistakes. You have a foolhardy nature which often gets you into lots of trouble, more so than you think. While you were courageous that day when you stood up to that cunt, I nevertheless have to say that you were a little over-courageous, to the point of becoming foolhardy. If you want to fight Don Francisco Juan Perez, you have to be a little more subtle in your undertaking. Indeed, you can well avoid this pending court case. It’s very simple. You can do it. Your first step, will be to apologise to Don Francisco.”
“What — I apologise to him??” I gasped.
“That is what I call being subtle,” explained Huascar. “You must say sorry to him. You must put him off his guard, or give him reasons to go off guard. Once he accepts your apology, come and see me. I’ll tell you how you can defeat him. Believe me, this is all for the best.
Climb every mountain, search high and low; Follow every byway, every path you know. Climb every mountain, ford every stream; Follow every rainbow, till you find your dream!
A dream that will give all the love you can give, Every day of your life for as long as you live.
Climb every mountain, ford every stream! Follow every rainbow, till - you - find - your - dream!
My eyes filled with tears as Huascar softly sang those words to me. “Huascar,” I said, “you have a point. But isn’t Don Francisco unconscious and in hospital?”
“He came to yesterday,” said Huascar. “You can go and find him. He should be in his ward. Do be very careful what you say or do, though. I’ll be praying for you. We’re in this together. Come, let’s shake our fingers on that. All will be well. Hakuna matata!”
“Hakuna matata,” I said as I shook fingers with Huascar, before I left the scene with lots of thoughts in my head….
* * *
HUASCAR LEON: I had seriously done my best for Alberto. This was the one way I could help him. I had previously no such desire; but Valeria’s assassination just showed me the true colours of that cunt.
Derpy and the other ponies had told me that Alberto needed lots of assurance about who his real friends were. And now that I had reason to empathise with Alberto, seeing that I was now going through something he had once went through half a year ago, I was more than willing to extend that hand of friendship to him, even if he was 11 years my senior.
The only way out to avoid a court case, as far as I was concerned, was for Alberto to apologise to Don Francisco. Not that I wanted him to mean it, but that he had to put up an adequately convincing act if he was to set himself free from that cunt’s clutches.
Shortly after Alberto went off, I saw a taxi driving up and someone getting out. It was my domestica; she was in tears.
“Young master Huascar? Your sister Odelia has been found assassinated!” she cried.
“Caramba!” I cried. “The second to go in just a few days!”
Overcome by great anguish from all that had happened in less than a week, I sang out:
So here I stand at the edge of the night, With nothing in my life, no-one to love me. I keep trying to be somepony, but nopony listens, nopony listens! And the pain don’t go away, it opens up the door to yesterday. I thought she’d be the first, I thought she’d be the last; But time is in control, my love, And the die is cast, the die is cast!
Tragedy! When the feeling’s gone and you can’t go on, it’s tragedy! When the morning cries and you don’t know why it’s hard to bear; WIth no-one to love you, you’re going nowhere!
Night and day there’s a burning down inside of me. Burning love with a yearning that won’t let me be. Down I go, and I just can’t take it all alone; I really should be holding you, holding you, Loving you, loving you!
Tragedy! When the feeling’s gone and you can’t go on, it’s tragedy! When the morning cries and you don’t know why it’s hard to bear; WIth no-one to love you, you’re going nowhere! Tragedy! When you lose control and you got no soul it’s tragedy! When the morning cries and you don’t know why it’s hard to bear, With no-one beside you, you’re going nowhere!
And the pain don’t go away, it opens up the door to yesterday. I thought she’d be the first, I thought she’d be the last; But time is in control, my love, And the die is cast, the die is cast!
Tragedy! When the feeling’s gone and you can’t go on, it’s tragedy! When the morning cries and you don’t know why it’s hard to bear; WIth no-one to love you, you’re going nowhere! When you lose control and you got no soul it’s tragedy! When the morning cries and you don’t know why it’s hard to bear, With no-one beside you, you’re going nowhere! You look for somepony, there’s nopony there…..
The tragedy is, that nopony cares!
And as I finished the last words, I followed my domestica back in the taxi to see what had happened to Odelia….
* * *
ALBERTO: Upon arriving at the hospital, afraid that Rosa would be there and start freaking out, I went very grudgingly as a visitor up the elevator to Don Francisco’s ward.
Rosa was there indeed; but to my surprise, she did not freak out. “I won’t stop you,” she declared coldly, stepping aside to allow me in.
My eyes met with Don Francisco’s eyes. I was about to myself freak out; but suddenly, outside the hospital window, I saw Derpy and Flash Sentry looking and smiling at me, as if saying to me, Go on buddy, you can do it!
Rehearsing an apology speech to one’s worst enemy is really exactly like revising for a very important exam.
That’s exactly how I felt after I walked into Don Francisco’s ward. But I knew that I had to do it; for just outside the window, I saw Flash Sentry and Derpy looking at me, with smiles that seemed to be saying, “Go for it pally, you can do it.”
I took a deep breath. “Don Francisco,” I said, “I am truly sorry for having done what I did the other day. I admit it was sheer recklessness and loss of self-control on my part. But now, after…. I was counselled, I do realise my error. I hope you can forgive and understand me.”
Rosalinda walked into the ward and looked at me. She didn’t look very happy; nevertheless something in my spirit man told me that she bore me no malice.
“Muy bien. I will let you off this one time,” said Don Francisco. “I will pretend I never knew you. Now kindly go, por favor.”
I knew that it was ultimately the respect of Don Francisco that I wanted to earn; so I just walked away, with lots of thoughts racing through my mind. Outside the hospital, I met Flash Sentry and Derpy.
“Hey,” said Derpy, “how did it go?”
I tried to open my mouth to speak, but the minute I did I felt faint and almost collapsed. Had it not been for the two kind pegasi who jumped in and licked me, I would have passed out on the spot.
“Hey!” cried Flash Sentry, “you ok or not??”
“I’m fine, thanks,” I gasped as I clung onto Flash Sentry’s firm-muscled body with one hand and to the hospital wall with another. Within a few minutes I was finally able to regain my composure and stand up again.
“It’s the effect of the Nightmare Poison,” said Derpy.
“Caramba! Does this mean I’m …” I began.
“Don’t worry, Braeburn and his team have set off for Syldavia to find the antidote pill,” said Flash Sentry. “They should be returning soon. Just hang in there.”
“Tell you what, just hop on my back,” said Derpy; “I’ll carry you to a safe place in the forests of Chaco. Some fresh air and greenery would soften the Nightmare Poison symptoms a little.”
“I’ll come with you,” added Flash Sentry.
I hopped on Derpy’s back and clung on to all my energy reserves, as she carried me to the countryside again, with Flash Sentry right behind us.
“Rainbow Dash has gone to Syldavia,” said Derpy, “to find the antidote for your Nightmare Poison.”
“And she took five other ponies with her to find it,” added Flash Sentry.
“Wait! That’s where we should go!” I cried. “We must go and join them there and see if the antidote is with Lisa Dbrnouk!”
“And not only that,” said Derpy, “we’ll go get Dr Whooves, so that he can finalise his research over there!”
And that’s what we did; using the portal, we went to the clinic in Equestria to fetch Dr Whooves, and from thence we went to the Passionless Valley in Syldavia — the whole journey took us roughly 14 hours.
“This is a good place,” said Dr Whooves. “I’ll continue my research from here. Derpy, you stay with me. Alberto and Flash Sentry, go to Dbrnouk Manor and make sure that our other friends are in good hands….”
* * *
RAINBOW DASH: I’d been observing Lisa Dbrnouk all night long and was finding her behaviour a little suspicious. She was sitting there, gaping at the weird sight before her eyes, her own father flirting with the wicked witch Natalia Cuartas; but Lisa didn’t intervene. Nor did either of them.
Suddenly I saw Lisa taking some stinging nettles from nearby plants and inflicting herself with them till she was bloody all over!! Then I saw her getting up and running — the opposite direction, straight to her home!! I picked up my walkie-talkie and radioed to Braeburn. “Lisa Dbrnouk suddenly pricked herself with stinging nettles and then turned back home,” I said. “She might have gone mad because of what she overheard just now. I’ll follow her incognito. Send, over.”
“Send, over,” came Braeburn’s voice over the receiver.
I flew in the air, trying to make sure Lisa didn’t see me. Then as she barged through her door, I heard her crying out: “Mama! Mama! I’ve been…… poisoned with Nightmare Poison!”
“WHAT?!” came the voice of Edna Jorgen from within. “WHAT HAPPENED?!!”
“It was…. Papa….” said Lisa Dbrnouk, clearly crying crocodile tears. I then realised it all — Lisa Dbrnouk had intended to fake being poisoned so as to avoid her father’s trap, and also to save Alberto from certain death!!
I flew closer to the house to get a better look, and saw a most interesting sight.
“YOU STILL CALL HIM ‘PAPA’??” Edna Jorgen was screaming. “WHAT DID THAT RAT DO THIS TIME?!!”
“He…. he…” sobbed Lisa, clearly unsure of what to say. “He…. and this beautiful Spanish lady…. were in the Heartbreak Hills, secretly talking…… I hid behind them…… with my friends, your friends, the ponies; we were listening to what they were saying……
“Stop crying!” ordered Edna Jorgen. “What were they saying??”
“Ahem,” said Lisa. “About something…. to do with…… God bringing them together….. they were …… cursing you, Mama….. calling you a ‘slut’ among other names….. I almost passed out when I heard that…… then….”
“Then WHAT?!” screamed Edna Jorgen. “Tell me quickly!”
“I …. lost my balance…. and fell,” went on Lisa, “….. and they saw me…… and that lady…… that other woman….. she pushed me …. right into these Nightmare Poison plants……”
“YOU’RE LYING!!!” screeched Edna Jorgen. “BETTER TELL ME THE TRUTH OR I SWEAR BY THE HOLY MOTHER OF CHRIST THAT I WILL SKIN YOU ALIVE!!!”
“Mama! I would never lie to you!” sobbed Lisa. “Behold these! Are these not…. Nightmare Plants?” She took out some of the stinging nettles from her clothes to show the old lady. This just confirmed my suspicions: She WAS doing this to get the antidote to save the life of Alberto after all!!
But what was going to happen next was even more unexpected.
“Elisabeth Marie Dbrnouk, do not forget that I am your mama!” shouted Edna Jorgen. “I know you are inclined to lie; you have been that way since you were a girl! You think I don’t know is it?!”
“Mama, I….. yes, you have a point, I lied!” cried Lisa. “Actually….. it was Papa who pushed me into the Nightmare Poison plants!”
I was recording this down from where I was — outside Dbrnouk Manor, listening intently and not even daring to yawn.
“He was saying,” Lisa continued, “that I was supporting you…..helping you ….. opposing him….. saying I ‘only want Mama and not Papa’; and so…. he was persistent in getting the love affections of that other woman….”
From the look on Edna Jorgen’s face on hearing her own daughter saying those very words, I could tell that Edna Jorgen was even more mad, much more than ever before.
“Lisa, darling, do not worry,” said Edna Jorgen in a low and quiet but angry voice. “Let Mama take care of that scum for you, and see to it that he gets what he rightly deserves!!”
“But Mama, I really won’t live that long!” cried Lisa. “I’m already infected with Nightmare Poison!!”
“Don’t worry, don’t worry!” said Edna Jorgen. “Over here I still have half a pill of antidote; it’s a good thing I never gave it to that scum of a lad — what was his name now — Alberto Garcia!”
On hearing those words from Edna Jorgen, I suddenly had a nasty feeling welling up inside my abdomen. Was Edna Jorgen against our friend Alberto, no, seriously?? I mean, what did she have against him?? I remember Flash Sentry telling me that he and Derpy and the two samba unicorns had aided in Alberto’s rescue of Edna Jorgen from the pit in this very valley, the pit where she had been locked up for so many years…..
I immediately radioed to Braeburn. “Quick! Emergency! Get them all ready! Come to Dbrnouk Manor immediately! Send, over!”
“Send, over!” came Braeburn’s voice over the receiver.
Within a couple of minutes, Braeburn, Big McIntosh, Thunderlane, Snips, and Snails came running over. “What’s up?” called Thunderlane.
“Psst! Not so loud!” I said. “Just look and listen; don’t intervene until I give the signal!”
The others nodded in agreement. We continued observing Edna Jorgen and Lisa Dbrnouk, and listening in to their conversation.
“After you’ve taken the antidote,” said Edna Jorgen, “even though it may not completely cure you, just stay here with Mama, let me care for you, and no smelly male out there will dare to so much as lay a finger on you. Oh yes, what about that scum and that woman? Where are they?”
“I climbed out of the Nightmare poison plants,” said Lisa, “but didn’t bother to look behind me…. I’m guessing they’re still there.”
“Ah! Ah!” laughed Edna Jorgen. “If that scum has got guts, he’d better come back and face me! Most of the workers here are his employees, hired by him, not me; and so they’ve been loyal to him all this while! They’d never dare to oppose him! As for me, my arms are weak, and my legs are broken, all I can do is sit here on this sedan chair and wait for someone or somepony to carry me around; and my only means of defense is my date-spitting! It may be pretty strong, yes, but what if that scum proves to be stronger than I thought?! Welp….. let’s go! We’ll go and get the half-antidote pill now!”
The attendants came into the room and prepared to carry the sedan chair with Edna Jorgen on it. Lisa, the obedient and subservient daughter that she was, prepared to make off behind her mother.
“Now!” I whispered to my five fellow ponies.
“POWER PONIES!!!” we all yelled as we broke the glass of the manor and burst right into its hall.
“So! Where is the antidote pill?!” I demanded, pointing a revolver at Edna Jorgen.
Edna Jorgen remembered us. “Other than Rainbow Dash and the two kind unicorn colts,” she ordered, “the rest of you whom I don’t know well, may hit the road now!”
“Just go and wait outside! We’ll come to you later!” I whispered to Braeburn, Big Mac, and Thunderlane; the three of them slowly walked outside. Then I turned back to face the old biped lady on the sedan chair.
“Madam Jorgen! You are nothing but all talk and no substance!” I mocked her.
Edna Jorgen looked at me, clearly stung by her own guilty conscience.
“As far as we know,” I went on, “I do not in the least know what exactly happened to your oldest brother, the late Mr Edgard Jorgen; but I am pretty sure Don Bernardo León and his family have had NOTHING to do with it whatsoever! In fact they are right now pining over the deaths of two of their daughters!!
“But, Madam Jorgen, if you still do not believe what I’m saying, I’ll give you every bit of permission to shoot three dates at me in a row!”
Edna Jorgen’s face lit up; I saw an evil grin behind that smile of hers.
“Nevertheless,” I went on, “it does not matter whether I live or die after you spit those dates at me. Once you’ve done so, we expect you to hand over the antidote pill to save the life of our friend Alberto Garcia!
“If I die, don’t worry, you will still have these pony friends over here to help you out of the troubles you’re facing! And more of them also to play in your courtyards day in and day out! Will you accept this offer, or will you not?”
“Could anyone ever be so kind?” said Edna Jorgen, a little taken aback. “Rainbow Dash, you are one of the captains of the Wonderbolts. I think you had better think carefully about what you’ve just offered me. Even after I’ve spat three dates at you, you’re still going to remain calm, and not attack me?!”
“In order to help you vanquish the years of hatred in you,” I replied, “I bring to you the magic of friendship, not the magic of attack!”
“Ah! To think you are ACTUALLY willing to actually martyr yourself by taking three dates from me?! You are really one kind!” Edna Jorgen was very taken aback by my words.
“Allow me to remind you this, Edna Jorgen,” I said, now getting serious. “Your REAL rival — Wladimir Dbrnouk — will be going to come after you soon. What difference will it make if you kill me? Just hand over the antidote pill after you’ve done so; your rival will not be able to get it once it’s in our hands! And what’s more, Alberto and I are friends; I am willing to lay down my life for the sake of giving him this antidote pill!”
Edna Jorgen’s eyes welled up with tears for a second. I knew she was thinking about the time when Alberto had rescued her from the pit.
Then next thing we knew, her eyes were flaming with anger. “Hmph!” she cried. “You and your sweet talk! You and your buttery words! My intentions are clear; I will NOT change my stand! Come on then, take my three dates!”
I stood by. I knew it was coming any minute.
“PTUI!” The first date aimed at my abdomen. I blockaded it like a goalkeeper grabbing a ball.
“PTUI!” The second date aimed at my head. I deflected it by rolling aside.
“PTUI!” The third date hit me — right into my mouth!! I was choked for a second, but on my own, without Snips’s or Snails’s help, I finally spat it out. I was finally OK, but had lost a lot of energy in the process. My lip was also bleeding.
“Madam Jorgen, I’ve already taken your three dates, and I’m not sure how long more I’ve got,” I said to the old lady. “Please hand over your antidote pill!”
Edna Jorgen hesitated for a moment, deep in thought, then she finally spoke. “Rainbow Dash,” she said in a low voice, “you’ve taken three dates from me. And you are still somehow alive. I really admire your bravery and courage. Very well; I will hand over the antidote pill to you!”
Snails suddenly flared up. “IF RAINBOW DASH IS FATALLY WOUNDED, WE’LL HOLD YOU RESPONSIBLE!!” he yelled, about to run at Edna Jorgen with his horn.
“Snails! Behave yourself!” I scolded the young yellow unicorn. He immediately stepped back.
“Sorry about that, Madam Jorgen; he’s only a colt, don’t take his words for it,” I reassured Edna Jorgen. “I’ll help you fight your enemies. Just please give us the pill.”
“Then allow me to thank you first!” said Edna Jorgen. “Lisa, come here; look below you, the brick that you see on the floor, fifth brick nearest to me, pull it up!”
“So it’s there?!” gasped Lisa.
Needless to say, I too was also amazed. Edna Jorgen had hidden the antidote pill under such a menial brick in such a big manor — clearly there were many out there who had been coveting it!!
“Wait!” cried Edna Jorgen. “Lisa, come closer! Lean your ear over; I want to tell you something!”
Lisa walked up to her mother, who immediately began whispering words into her ear.
“Rainbow Dash, could you come here for a minute please?” asked Snips. “Snails and I, we’d like to check and see how bad your wounds are.”
The only wound I had was on my lip; but it was bad enough. I walked up to the two unicorns. Immediately their horns started glowing; they were young, but they certainly had something to say.
“The old biped lady is saying this,” said Snips, “that there are….. two bottles…. underneath the brick…. the one on the right, is the real antidote…. the one on the left, is the fake antidote ….. she asked her daughter….. to take the bottle ……on the left…. with the fake antidote…. and give it to you…..”
I was shocked. Could this be for real — Edna Jorgen, whom these two young colts had once helped to rescue from the pit, wanted to indeed finish off poor Alberto?? Nevertheless I also knew that now the ball would be in Lisa’s court; she would ultimately decide what to do…..
“Alberto, my friend,” declared Lisa Dbrnouk softly, as she looked upwards, “this day I sacrifice myself, I lay down my life, for the sake of giving you the real antidote….. wherever you are, please remember this sacrifice made to you by this young girl….” And with that, she bent down and — trying to make sure she did not get spotted — switched places between the left and right antidotes, and picked the real antidote.
“Now,” announced Edna Jorgen, not having noticed that her daughter had taken the REAL antidote, “we will keep our word and pass the antidote to Rainbow Dash!”
“Yes, Your Eminence!” said the attendants, as they slowly walked up to take the bottle from Lisa Dbrnouk.
Suddenly a hand reached out from next to Lisa and snatched the bottle away from her before we could do anything. We turned around and saw Wladimir Dbrnouk himself, with a patch over one eye, looking very pissed.
“I should thank my lucky stars,” said Wladimir, most certainly sarcastically, “for allowing me to see such a bea-OO-tiful drama in real life.”
“You cunt! So it IS you! Hand back the bloody pill!” yelled Edna Jorgen. We all stepped back; we knew this was going to be a really bloody scene.
“Not so easy!” laughed Wladimir.
Suddenly a brightly-dressed figure entered the room. “Wladimir Dbrnouk! Hand over that pill at once!”
We all recognised whose voice that was. “Alberto!” cried Lisa Dbrnouk. Indeed, Alberto was there; he was wielding a revolver and sitting on top of Flash Sentry; both of them were looking extremely cross.
Big McIntosh, who had just walked inside with Braeburn upon Alberto’s intervention, was a little confused by this twist of events. “What happened?” he cried.
“The mother wanted her to give us a FAKE antidote, of sorts,” I explained, “but she is secretly in love with our friend Alberto; so she took the REAL antidote. And that was what Wladimir Dbrnouk just took from her hands — just like that. The REAL antidote!”
“Papa!” cried Lisa. “Have you not already done enough wrong by breaking Mama’s legs and then burying her in that pit? What were you saying today with Natalia Cuartas?!”
Lisa Dbrnouk, it seems, spoke those words with an air of fear; it was clear to us that she had never once dared to answer back to her father.
Indeed, Wladimir Dbrnouk was VERY pissed; he had never for one minute guessed that there would be a third party eavesdropping on his conversation with Natalia Cuartas, which he had clearly intended to be a secret. However, with regard to his daughter, he was nevertheless less ferocious; he knew she was his one and only heiress. So he thought carefully before answering. “What do you mean, what was I saying today? I didn’t say anything!” he exclaimed.
But for Lisa Dbrnouk, this time there was no turning back. “I don’t care if you’re going to kill me for saying this!” she yelled. “But you have spoiled your own name and reputation by womanising to that extent!! I honestly don’t give a damn about being killed by my own papa! All I ask is that you hand me back that pill which Mama promised to someone!”
Wladimir was not convinced. “Hmph! You two are all the same — mother and daughter!” he growled. “One betrayed her husband, the other betrayed her father! Call yourselves good guys? Yeah right! By the sceptre of Ottokar, may God do so to me and more also, if I don’t duly chastise you both today!!”
“STOP!!” suddenly shouted Alberto. “I have something to ask you, Lisa Dbrnouk!”
All our eyes suddenly riveted on Alberto at the moment.
“What is this I hear you wanted to sacrifice your life for me?” demanded Alberto. “And what is it about your father intending to harm you for the sake of flirting with another woman? Who is THAT woman anyway?”
“Natalia Cuartas,” replied Lisa Dbrnouk, beginning to cry again. “I know that my papa wanted to harm me by seeing her, but at the end of the day he is still my papa; as such I think it’s best I don’t tell you any further!”
We all knew that Lisa Dbrnouk was unable to reveal anything because her own parents, both of them equally evil despite being arch rivals, were right there in her presence.
“YOU’LL TALK!!!” suddenly yelled Edna Jorgen. “YOU CAN DEFINITELY TALK!!! ARE YOU GOING TO TALK OR NOT?!!””
Lisa Dbrnouk took a deep breath. “Alberto, the half-pill of antidote is in the bottle in Papa’s hands! I….. I have let you down, Mama!”
We all knew that when Lisa said that she had let her mother down, she meant that she had disobeyed her mother’s specific instructions; but from the look on Edna Jorgen’s face, Edna Jorgen clearly had misunderstood her own daughter, thinking that she meant that she had not done her duty as a daughter by avenging her mother and fighting her father.
“Ah! Ah! What an ex-ex-excellent dramatic scene!” laughed Wladimir Dbrnouk, applauding. “You deserve my applause, good and faithful daughter!”
Alberto’s eyes flashed. He pulled out his kukri, a bushranger knife. “AAAAAAHHH!” he yelled, running forward to attack Wladimir Dbrnouk. Within seconds, the two of them were interlocked in combat again….
* * *
ALBERTO: Now THAT had been truly shocking. Me, nearing the end of my life — which could happen anytime thanks to the Nightmare Poison having spread to just about everywhere in my body by that time, and yet still having to fight like hell in order to get that antidote pill which was apparently being held by an extremely evil couple.
And trust Lisa Dbrnouk to step in at the wrong time — when I was halfway dealing with her father Wladimir. Nevertheless I knew she was concerned about that antidote half-pill in his hands.
“Papa! Hand over the ….” she began, but Wladimir pushed me aside and grabbed her and pointed his gun on her temple. Gasps of horror from all around.
“Ah! Ah! You slut! You really have got the guts, do you not?!” laughed Wladimir Dbrnouk. “We will all die today, if that be the case!”
Edna Jorgen spat out two dates at Wladimir, but for some reason she missed.
“Spitting out like that is going to be no use, cheap woman!” Wladimir mocked. “At last! I have finally gotten back what is rightfully mine!”
“Lisa!” I cried. “You ok?”
Lisa began to cry. “Alberto,” she said. “I have failed you!
Why are you at my side? How can I be any use to you now? Look at me now, you will soon find out Nothing has changed! Deep in my heart I’m concealing, Things that I’m longing to say; Scared to confess what I’m feeling, Frightened you’d slip away — You must love me!
And with those words, she reached her finger for the trigger of her father’s gun, and shot herself in the head.
More gasps of horror. “LISA!!!” screamed Edna Jorgen.
But it was too late; she had already shot herself and had fallen on the ground, as dead as a doornail. Within seconds, the ponies and I engaged in an interlocked combat with Wladimir Dbrnouk and his attendants.
“Men, the emergency fishnet!” Wladimir Dbrnouk gave orders to the valley attendants.
“Men, don’t listen to that scum! Stop what you’re doing!” Edna Jorgen also gave orders to the same valley attendants, who were all confused. In the confusion, some of the attendants even attacked one another.
Suddenly, with a bound, Natalia Cuartas burst into the room, pursued by Derpy. “You wicked old witch!” Derpy was yelling. “I will KILL you today!!”
“Everypony listen up!” Derpy went on. “Dr Whooves is dead! This wicked witch here killed him!!”
Braeburn was very angry. “AAAAAAAH!!!” he yelled, running forward with Big Mac, Snips, and Snails behind him; Derpy and Rainbow Dash and I stood aside and gaped at the sight. Within seconds, the four male ponies were interlocked in combat together with Wladimir and Natalia.
After a few minutes of fighting, Wladimir began to gasp for breath. “Sister Natalia, let’s split up! Meet me at the old place!” he cried. And with those words, he and Natalia ran away in different directions; we all pursued them, but lost sight of them halfway…
* * *
SNAILS: That was itself a big blow for us — the enemy was using diversionary tactics to confuse us. Snips and I were unsure of what to do at first, but I did have a suggestion for the others.
“We’ll split up!” I called out. “Rainbow Dash, Flash Sentry, Derpy, Thunderlane, go with Alberto; Big Mac, Braeburn, follow Snips and me!”
“I’ll be taking the pegasi to go after Wladimir Dbrnouk!” called Alberto. “Snips, Snails, take the earth ponies and go after Natalia Cuartas!”
Big Mac and Braeburn followed Snips and I all the way to the edge of the Passionless Valley, near the Bordurian border. There was a huge cliff. We saw Natalia Cuartas standing there — or rather, not standing, but crouching; she was clearly feeling the full effects of the Nightmare Poison in her body, after Snips and I had used our horns to force her onto that big patch of Nightmare Plants earlier on.
“How are you, Ms Cuartas?” I asked, going up to her.
Natalia turned around, grasping her bosom in great agony. “Kill me, por favor!” she wailed. “Por favor just kill me! I can’t bear this agony anymore! Oh por favor, por favor….” she begged.
“Don’t worry, Ms Cuartas!” said Snips. “Just surrender yourself, repent, and mend your ways, and we will do our best help you!”
“We are the proclaimers of the Magic of Friendship!” said Big McIntosh. “All we need is a willing, broken, repentant heart, and that is when we will guarantee that we will change your life for the better!”
“I can’t! I just can’t!” cried Natalia. “Just kill me! KILL ME!!!”
She was literally going hysterical. I wanted to laugh at this dramatic scene, but knew that there were more important matters to deal with — namely as to how, if at all, we could rescue Natalia.
Natalia rose to her feet, stood and looked across the Black Sea, to the shores of neighbouring Borduria.
“Adios!” she cried. “Bid farewell, cruel world! Adios, memory of Wladimir Dbrnouk, the one I so loved! Artur, Alegría, I come to join ye now in eternal paradise!
I understand the things I said, Don’t turn away from me; Cos I spent half my life out there, You wouldn’t disagree. Just see me, just see: Did you like me? Did you like me when I was not there? D’you notice? D’you know? You did not find me, you did not find, does anyone care! Unhappiness, was when I was young and we didn’t give a damn; Cos we were raised, to see life as fun and take it if we can! Does anyone care? Does anyone care? Does anyone care?
And with those words, Sister Natalia Cuartas FMM threw herself off the cliff and plummetted right into the Syldavian canyon to her death.
“Caramba!” I cried. “She’s as gone as her two younger siblings!”
“She is indeed,” said Big Mac. “She was horrible in life, and equally horrible in death. I mean, look at all that blood down there on her carcass! Finally, Dr Whooves has been avenged.”
“We owe it to the two of you, young unicorns,” said Braeburn, addressing Snips and me. “If not for your airblasting skills with your small but strong horns, we’d never have been able to have Sister Natalia Cuartas defeated at long last.”
“She didn’t just cause Dr Whooves’s death alone,” explained Snips, “she was also responsible for the deaths of many more entities, both bipedal and quadrupedal alike.”
“So many? You have all the names of her past victims, Snips?” I asked my best friend.
“I’ll tell you more later,” replied Snips. “Come, we’ve got to get back to Dbrnouk Manor. There’s a Shakespearean drama unfolding there.”
* * *
ALBERTO: I was with the four pegasi at a high place in the Passionless Valley. Derpy was getting herself ready to tackle Wladimir Dbrnouk, the Valley’s long time iron-fisted master.
The look on Wladimir’s face spoke a thousand words; he was certainly aware of his own attempt to slaughter Derpy merely a few months before, the same day when Flash Sentry and the two samba unicorns and I had rescued Edna Jorgen from that pit.
“Little grey pegasus,” said Wladimir, “you know that my love for you is real. Other ponies I have slaughtered; but you are one that I will never slaughter. Come and be my bride, please!” “I’m sorry, Mr Dbrnouk, but inasmuch as I love your dramatic talent, I must say no,” replied Derpy. “The one I love — is Alberto.”
I jumped on hearing my name, and was about to lose my cool, but Thunderlane nudged me and gave me a severe look. Knowing that he meant business, I kept quiet.
“Alberto is the one I love,” said Derpy, trotting slowly up to me and hugging me, “and I cannot give him up for anyone else.”
“WHAT? You and he are….?” gasped Wladimir.
“Yes,” said Derpy. “And so all I’m asking of you now, is to give me the other half-pill of antidote, so that I can give it to my Alberto.”
“I can,” said Wladimir, “however, I would like you to come onto this ledge here — overlooking this ravine below — and beat me in a game of one on one. We will see if the bipedal race or the quadrupedal race is better. Melee weapons only.” He pulled out a strange-looking kukri.
“Here, Derpy, take my Tribalman’s Shiv,” I said, giving the grey wall-eyed pegasus mare my own blood-inducing kukri, which had been an Xmas gift from my Aussie-based younger brother Alonso.
Derpy moved forward and stood by. “If you win,” she said, “then you can have what you wished for — me laying down my life for you.”
Wladimir’s face lit up.
“But,” went on Derpy, “if you lose, you have to give me what I want, namely, that other half antidote pill.”
“I will hold you to your word,” said Wladimir.
I watched with abated breath together with Rainbow Dash, Flash Sentry, and Thunderlane, as Derpy prepared to fight Wladimir Dbrnouk…..
Derpy took my Tribalman’s Shiv and raised it. “Prepare thyself,” she cried, “for one of us must die — and I certainly don’t intend to!”
Wladimir Dbrnouk raised his kukri. Within seconds, he and Derpy were interlocked in combat.
Poor Derpy. It was already tough enough to fight somepony like Wladimir, and how much more so on a narrow plank of wood dangling over a bottomless ravine right smack in the middle of nowhere! Good thing she was a pegasus and had wings; she could certainly fly, while using her left forehoof to hold the kukri and tackle Wladimir with it.
In the end, Derpy won — she trapped Wladimir against a rock, holding the Tribalman’s Shiv with the blade at his neck.
“Checkmate,” she declared. “Now keep your word and pass us the other pill, please. I promise you I will not kill you.”
Trembling, Wladimir reached into his pocket and grabbed the pill and handed it over to Derpy. “There ya go,” he said. “Take this pill, take your friends, and get out of here. Get out of Syldavia. And please. Do not let me see your faces ever again.”
“Thanks,” said Derpy, releasing her sword. I stood by with my guns just in case Wladimir did anything foolish.
Derpy took the pill into her mailbag and trotted back to us. Wladimir went the other way. I hugged Derpy. “Are you ok, amor?” I asked her.
“Yeah,” said Derpy. “I’m good. Quick, pop this pill into your mouth.”
I gobbled the antidote pill like I would a panadol. Don’t know if it was something psychological or what, but I suddenly felt a surge of life in me.
“Huascar León, I’m coming back for you!” I shouted.
“What? You want to kill Huascar? Won’t the bigger guns among the Peronistas come and find you out??” wondered Thunderlane.
“You’re wrong there, pal,” said Flash Sentry; “Huascar and Alberto are friends now. Alberto is going to see Huascar to find out what to do next.”
“And since when did they become friends?” asked Rainbow Dash. “Weren’t they, like….”
“Calm down, you two, Flash and I already know what’s been going on,” said Derpy. “Don Francisco apparently killed two of Huascar’s kid sisters, and Huascar transferred allegiance over to Alberto in order to avenge them. From what I know also about Huascar’s background, he’s been through pretty much similar experiences in childhood to that of Alberto, so they’ll more likely than not turn out to be very good friends. Just wait and see.”
“You know what guys? Derpy and Flash Sentry are both right,” I said. “I will need to see what Huascar wants me to do when I get back. Huascar is now my boss. And I will willingly give this my all; we’re both in this together. Come, let’s go and get the two unicorns and the two big Apple stallions, and go home!”
* * *
BIG MCINTOSH: No sooner had we witnessed the unsalvageable Natalia Cuartas plummet to her death, than have something else crop up again all of a sudden.
Just as Braeburn and the two Samba Unicorns and I were planning to go back to get Alberto and the pegasi, we witnessed another interesting suicide. No, screw that — two suicides in a row.
“Look!” screamed Snips, indicating towards a high plateau. “Over there!”
Before I even looked, I knew exactly what I was going to see. So did the others. We could tell by the high hysterical note in the young Brazilian unicorn’s voice.
And there they stood, the Dbrnouk couple, on the summit of that very plateau, about to come at each other.
“Ah! Edna Jorgen!” Wladimir Dbrnouk was shouting. “Do you for one minute think that I will let you off so easily this time around? You know what you did to me years ago! Take THAT!” He raised his own kukri and ran at Edna Jorgen, hoping to strike a checkmating blow.
“PTUI!” Edna spat out another date, successfully knocking the kukri from Wladimir’s hands. But this was the last time she would ever do so — for the very place that both she and Wladimir had been standing on, was on unstable ground that hovered directly above a concealed bottomless pit!!!
Wladimir stumbled upon impact from the date on his kukri. The ground beneath him gave way. “Ah!” he cried as he fell into the pit. “Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah!” laughed Edna Jorgen.
But suddenly the ground beneath Edna Jorgen also gave way and she, together with Wladimir, found herself plummetting into that bottomless pit. “Help! Help!” she yelled. “HEEEEEEEEELP!!”
It was too late to save either Edna or Wladimir. By the time Braeburn and Snips and Snails had arrived there, both of them had already plunged goodness knows how far down to their deaths. Just then. Alberto and his four pegasi came up to join us.
“Retribution,” said Alberto.
“Such wicked parents,” said Derpy; “yet they had such a kind-hearted daughter. She was willing to even lay her life down for your sake, Alberto.”
“I think,” I burst in, “this is what we should do. We should give them all a proper funeral, and then set off back for La Paz.”
“That true too, Huascar is waiting me,” said Alberto.
So we gave the right funeral arrangements for the Dbrnouk family, and then set off back for Bolivia.
“What did Huascar ask you to do, Alberto?” I asked our bipedal friend.
“Er…. that I’m not sure myself,” replied Alberto; “but what I do know is that he told me that he wants to help me fight Don Francisco. It seems that Don Francisco killed two of Huascar’s three kid sisters, and because of that, Huascar has transferred his allegiance to us now. He told me however, that my ways of fighting Don Francisco was ‘too foolhardy’, and ordered me to go and apologise to Don Francisco — which I have already done — and then after that, come back and see him. Just that we came here only to find the antidote pill, as my Nightmare Poison was acting up again. Now that I’m better after having swallowed the pill. I feel I’m ready to go and ask Huascar what to do next.”
“All the same, do be careful of whom you’re gonna meet, Alberto,” I advised the young biped. “You know Huascar was mean to you and to Donita before. How do you know he can be trusted this time? How do you know that this is not some diversionary tactic of his to get you off the case?”
“Big Mac! That’s enough!” Derpy turned and scolded me. “Flash Sentry and I have witnessed everything first hand. We believe Alberto can handle this on his own. We have faith in him. And so should you. Let him go!”
“Er… o…. k,” I said stepping back, secretly concerned for poor Alberto…..
* * *
ALBERTO: I went to see Huascar at his estate, Los Altiplanos del Gran Chaco, in the township of the same name. He was waiting there for me at the pavilions in the estate plaza.
“I have come as you asked,” I said. “Sorry for the delay. I had to get some medication as I was not well.”
“Hmmm,” said Huascar. “Have you already said sorry to Don Francisco like I told you to?”
“Si,” I replied.
“Very good,” said Huascar. “Now here’s the thing. I have devised a plan that will surely bring Don Francisco to his knees. And with you around and involved in this plan, it will surely make things ll the more tragic an ending for him. You and I, guaranteed, will see him begging for mercy once we’ve carried this plan out.”
“Indeed,” I said, still thinking of what Big Mac had said to me. “Could you just tell me what plan this is and then we can get it over and done with?”
“It isn’t that quick, amigo,” said Huascar. “Listen to me first, let me explain. Do you happen to know how to play Team Fortress 2?”
“Er… no,” I answered, “but why? And what’s that to do with Don Francisco anyway?”
“Just so you know,” explained Huascar, looking at me with concerned eyes, “Don Francisco is the undefeated TF2 champion of all Latin America, and has been so for the past 27 years. No-one in their right mind would even think of playing against him. And he has imparted his skills to all his subordinates, who always advise him during important matches. But if you and I, just the two of us alone, were to team up together and defeat Don Francisco and all his subordinates, just think of how sweet our victory would be — two of us alone against so many thousands of Peronistas!”
“So what do I do then?” I asked.
“Good question,” said Huascar. “Come with me.”
“I’m hungry,” I said, noticing a food stall not far off. “Let me grab some food first.”
“Sure,” said Huascar; “I have the whole day today anyways.”
I ran off to buy some food from the food stall. Apparently it was selling glazed honey chicken steaks. The operator was this thin man in a blue singlet who looked kind of familiar, however I could not seem to remember where I saw him before.
“One piece of chicken steak,” I said.
“Si,” said the stall operator. He took a piece of steak and grilled it and then passed it to me in a bag. “That’ll be 4 quetzals, por favor,” he said. I took out 4 quetzals and paid up. “Gracias,” I replied, and then walked back to where Huascar was waiting me.
Suddenly, Derpy flew down right before me. “Alberto, why did you buy that piece of chicken steak?” she asked. “It’s not fresh.”
“The guy grilled it before my very eyes, I am a first hand witness,” I protested.
“For your information,” said Derpy, “that stall operator was Jaime Lozada. You know who I’m talking about. His cuisine is never fresh.”
“Oh!” I cried. Now it all dawned on me — Lozada, an ex-colleague of mine in my All Lee days, had heard about me collaborating with Huascar to defeat Don Francisco, and I had just fallen into the first of his traps by being tempted to buy from that chicken stall, not half knowing who the operator was!!
“Quick, give me that rotten steak!” said Derpy. “I’ve got a fresh piece of Appleloosa Fried Chicken here for you! And here’s the four quetzals that Lozada cheated you of!” She gave me a box of AFC Popcorn Chicken, as well as two 2-quetzal bills. I gave her the rotten steak. “Throw it away,” I ordered.
“I will,” said Derpy. “And I’ll warn Huascar as well. Better go and rejoin him immediately, and get indoors while you can; it’s not safe to be out here.”
“Si,” I said. I ran quickly back to where Huascar was waiting for me. “Quick, let’s go to your house now!” I cried. “Not a minute to lose! We’re in deepest of shit!”
“I heard!” said Huascar. “This way, quick!” He took me to the lift landing of his block. We went into the elevator. “I’m on Level 29,” said Huascar.
So we got out on the 29th storey and Huascar took me into his home. “Papa and Mama are not home,” he said, “they went out shopping with Eudora. So you can come with me to my room. I’ll show you what to do.”
I followed Huascar to his yellow-wallpapered room, where he turned on his PC desktop. “Garcia, you got a laptop with you?” he asked.
“Si,” I said. I took out my MacBook Air from my bag and put it down on the floor before me, and I turned it on, being sure to make sure also that I was charging it with its compatible charger. So far so good — I could connect to the internet without any apparent problems.
“Now go to the Steam website and download the Steam software,” said Huascar. “There should be a compatible version for Mac OS X.”
I did exactly as I was told. The plan had begun.
“Now download Team Fortress 2 using your Steam client,” said Huascar. “It’s free of charge, so don’t worry if you don’t have cash.”
It worked like a miracle. The plan was working. But I did have some questions. “With this, we can defeat Don Francisco?” I asked.
“Like I said, we have to wait till the big competition day, the day of the All Latino TF2 Championship,” said Huascar. “Good news — it’s in only one month from now. And don’t worry, even if it has to wait, it’s good news, because you’re going to be living with me from now on, and I’ll be teaching you how to play TF2 right here. We’ll do this together.”
The plan was working very well indeed. While I was still new, I was already beginning to learn about the basics of Team Fortress 2 — the nine classes (Scout, Soldier, Pyro, Demoman, Heavy/Hoovy, Engineer, Medic, Sniper, Spy), the two teams (Builder’s League Union “BLU” and Reliable Excavation Demolition “RED”), and the various forms of gameplay (King Of The Hill, Control Points, Attack/Defend, Special Delivery, Capture-The-Flag, Payload, Payload Race, Mann versus Machine, Prop Hunt, Death-Match, and many more). This was a fun game!
“You can either choose to play online,” said Huascar, “by connecting to servers just by clicking on the button that says ‘servers’ — very straightforward — or you can simply choose to play offline on your own LAN server, all you do for that would be to click on the ‘+’ sign next to the ‘servers’ button, choose a map, and explore the map on your own. Or, if you want to learn rocket jumping as a Soldier or Demoman, do it that way too — play on a LAN server alone, this map called jump_quba is what I recommend for starters.”
Rocket jumping proved to be just as much fun as were the “standard” TF2 gamemodes. In all 33 years of my life I had never enjoyed myself so much.
Huascar was teaching me some basics as a Scout class, when a knock on the room door came. “It must be Papa,” said Huascar. “Pause game. Gimme a minuto.”
He ran to answer the door. It was indeed Don Bernardo León. “Er….. Papa?” said Huascar.
“Huascar, may I ask you as to what is that muchacho doing in our humble abode?” demanded Don Bernardo.
“Papa, he is homeless,” said Huascar. “His mother has chased him out and his wife is filing for divorce. There is nowhere else he can stay now. Can we let him have either Valeria’s or Odelia’s rooms, por favor?”
“One word: No,” said Don Bernardo. “You already know that we are direct descendants of the Inca conqueror Prince Rascar Capac, and we will NOT allow spies from the infidel tribes to stay within our gates and corrupt our purest of pure cultures. Get this infidel out of my house immediately!”
“Papa, por l’amor de Dios, can you not be so rude?!” cried Huascar. “Alberto Garcia really has nowhere to stay! You surely do not expect him to sleep on the streets?!!”
“When I say no, it is no!” yelled Don Bernardo. “If you don’t get him out, I will personally get him out myself!” He proceeded to grab my MacBook and my baggages and throw me out.
“No! Uncle Bernardo! NOOOO!!!!!” I yelled, trying in vain to stop him. I’d thought that this was the end of my life…. until I heard a shout from outside.
“Jirunimu Inca Bernardo León!”
That was a feminine voice we heard. It was one that Huascar and I knew only too well. Don Bernardo stopped, put down my things nicely on the floor, turned around, shouting “Who are you to call me by my full name?!” — but when he saw who it was, he got on his knees immediately.
There she stood. Princess Twilight Sparkle, the alicorn princess who had first flown into my room merely 10 months ago when I was in the Canaries and attached to All Lee. Her horn was glowing red-hot, and she was looking very very cross. Also, for some reason which we didn’t know at first then, she had some pungent body odour on her today, unlike normally.
“Sua altezza…..” stammered Don Bernardo, bowing low.
Princess Twilight Sparkle was not convinced. “THAT’S ENOUGH!” she roared, in a voice that caused the whole apartment block to tremble. “When I heard what was happening I flew down from Equestria at once! I didn’t even stop to bathe!”
OK, I thought, that explains the stench, so she even sacrificed a shower to save my life.
“Come with me,” said Princess Twilight Sparkle, addressing Don Bernardo. “I want to speak with you in private.”
“S-s-si, s-s-sua alt-t-tezza,” stammered Don Bernardo, clearly shocked beyond words, as he followed Princess Twilight out of Huascar’s room.
“So now what?” I asked Huascar.
“Let’s go on with the lesson,” Huascar replied, sighing deeply. “OK, so this is how you do a double jump as a Scout. Watch how I do it first, then you give it a try….”
* * *
PRINCESS TWILIGHT SPARKLE: I took Don Bernardo aside for a private word as this was the only chance to save Alberto.
“Listen, I have an appointment with a client after this,” said Don Bernardo. “Just say whatever you want now and get it over with!”
“Now listen to me,” I said. “Alberto is a poor soul who is to be pitied. He has no real father, his mother has just disowned him, his wife is about to send divorce papers over to him. He has no home now. He has been sleeping on the streets for the past few weeks, going with minimal food and drink.
“Tell me this: How would you feel if you were in his situation? Do not bother about the fact that he is of a different tribe. Your tribe and his tribe have long since settled their ancient feud. Are not the rest of your Inca people and Alberto’s Aymara people living in much better harmony than in the days gone by? Do you desire harmony in your home? In your family? In your country?
“Let the dead bury their own dead, Don Bernardo. You are a technical engineer, operations manager in Sniper Electronicas, a firm of great respect in the world of business. You are also a nobleman, a viscount to be exact, and a direct descendant of a famous Inca warrior and conqueror. Surely you don’t want such a good and high-ranking reputation to be ruined overnight, just because you denied lodging and food to an innocent, poor, harmless, homeless boy?
“I can assure you one thing, Don Bernardo: Alberto will not be with you for very long. He is only looking for temporary lodging until further notice. One more thing: Please allow him to sleep in Huascar’s room. I can assure you there will be nothing between them more than just their friendship.
“When the time is ripe, I will come back — either me, or one or more of my fellow equines — and bring Alberto to his new residence. HRH Princess Celestia has given orders for us to prepare Alberto a place in the Castle in Canterlot.
“Just promise me one thing, Don Bernardo — promise me that you will not disturb Alberto while he lives in your home. There are important things that need to be settled. I give you my word that you all will not come to any harm, and neither will your reputation. If you need any assistance, just call for me. My name is Princess Twilight Sparkle. Your two late daughters were big fans of us.”
Don Bernardo took a deep breath and finally he spoke. “I will hold you to your word, señorita princesa caballo,” he said.
“Just think about what I have said,” I told him. “I have to go now. And you, better not keep your clients waiting. Ciao.”
I flew back to Equestria, to Canterlot Castle, where Rainbow Dash and Derpy were waiting me.
“Ah! You certainly took your time, Your Highness!” said Derpy. “We’re almost done in getting the room prepared for Alberto!”
“Get the cupboard ready,” I ordered. “Make it the kind of cupboard suitable and convenient for a biped. NOT the quadruped ones that we usually use. Also, be sure to get a table for him to do his writing, and get the electricians to make internet WiFi connections here for him. And for the door, make it a maximum security door which will allow only fingerprint-tap access.”
“How’s Alberto?” Derpy asked me. “Heard he went to live with Huascar? Hope Huascar’s family won’t mind?”
“Don’t worry,” I said, “he’ll be fine.”
* * *
ALBERTO: Team Fortress 2 proved to be a really fun game. Even on Sundays when Huascar had to go and help out in the Temple of the Sun in downtown Soledad, or on weekdays when he had to go and and keep the computer fix-it shop which he and his father had co-founded, I would still practice on my own, both on my own server with bots as well as occasionally on real-life servers, mostly those based down in the surrounding Latin American countries.
Another fun thing about the game was the random item “drops” during each and every game round. I was starting to collect lots of these items — comprising weapons, hats, tools, cosmetics, and many more; mostly meant for specific classes — and things got even better when I began to craft my own weapons, including my very own AWPer Hand, a special craft-only Sniper rifle.
The day came when I scored my first ever dominance against a bot during one practice. Huascar came back and heard the dominating brass sound effect. “Very good, Alberto!” he said. “Keep up the good work! I hope you can dominate real players next! Tomorrow is Saturday and I’ll be free, so I’ll teach you how to play as a Spy; we’ll go to a King-Of-The-Hill server and have a spy duel!”
“Huascar, next week is the ultimate test,” I said. “I don’t know if I can manage. I know Don Francisco will surely be taking part. I’m just afraid that I….”
“Don’t you worry, amigo,” said Huascar, giving me a pet on the back. “Just keep on practicing and you will be fine.”
That night I could not sleep; I said a prayer for all my friends, pony and human alike, because I knew well that the day of the competition would surely decide my ultimate fate.
Oh, Señor, mi oración, llevo a Ti, desde mi corazón. joven es, con temor, cuídalo, con Tu amor. ve por él! ve por él! ve por él!
es como el hijo que anhelé, el que por años yo soñé. el tiempo pasa y se va, se acaba y no volverá! y mi final muy cerca está.
dale paz, dale amor, joven es, solo un niño Señor. puedes dar, y quitar, llévalo a su hogar. si es morir, tuyo soy, cuídalo! ve por él! ve por él! ve por él!
And as I finished the last words, I saw a familiar sight at the window. It was Fluttershy.
"You'll be fine, Alberto," she said. "But you do need lots of rest, because this is a big competition, it's international, if you win, or if you lose, either way you'll be famous overnight. Let me put you to sleep.
Let me sail, let me sail, let the Orinoco flow, Let me reach, let me beach On the shores of Tripoli. Let me sail, let me sail, Let me crash upon your shore, Let me reach, let me beach Far beyond the Yellow Sea.
From Bissau to Palau, in the shade of Avalon, From Fiji to Tiree and the Isles of Ebony, From Peru to Cebu, hear the power of Babylon, From Bali to Cali, far beneath the Coral Sea.
From the North to the South, Ebudo into Khartoum, From the deep sea of Clouds To the island of the moon, Carry me on the waves To the lands I've never been, Carry me on the waves To the lands I've never seen.
We can sail, we can sail... We can steer, we can near With Rob Dickins at the wheel, We can sigh, say goodbye Ross and his dependencies We can sail, we can sail...
Fluttershy's song was very relaxing; within minutes I finally fell asleep.
The big day, October 31st 2018, eventually came. Most of the pony friends that had changed my life — including Derpy, Rainbow Dash, Princess Twilight Sparkle, Flash Sentry, Snips, Snails, and many more — came to see me and wish me luck for this big event. I certainly would need lots of luck.
An important thing was that cheating was not advised. Hence I would not be playing in Huascar’s house; I would be going to a quiet place to play. I chose a small, seemingly deserted cottage in the countryside between La Paz and Chaco, which had good internet connections despite its altitude and location in the country. To further make sure that I was not going to cheat, two witnesses were present to observe me: Huascar, who had been my teacher; as well as a pony — and the pony was actually Rainbow Dash.
The contest officially began at 7:45pm that night, held on a koth_lakeside_event server. It was to be around 8 minutes long. There were at least 31 other players; I was on BLU team, playing as a Sniper and using my beloved self-crafted AWPer Hand. 15 other players were on my team, and 16 on the opposing RED team. Don Francisco was apparently playing on RED, as a Heavy — the one class which had more hit points than the others and the only known rapid-firing gun, albeit a slow mover.
“5. 4. 3. 2. 1. Control point enabled. MOVE!” announced the voice of the TF2 administrator, Welshwoman Helen MacLaine. I pressed forward with my Sniper character, making straight for the control point.
This was indeed my biggest ever challenge yet. A few steps out and I was burned to death by a RED Pyro. “Caramba!” I cried, thumping the table in exasperation.
“Go for it, Garcia! You can do it!” Huascar nudged me gently.
“Go on!” whispered Rainbow Dash. “We’re behind you all the way!”
I switched classes to that of a Spy. I knew this would help; the Spy duel that Huascar and I had had together last week on the LAN server in his house had been of great help to my gameplay.
“Attention! The control point is being contested!” came Señorita McLaine’s voice. I saw a RED engineer building a sentry there. I recognised his username: “Type #42 Tardis [Metaldrake]” — i.e. Enrique de la Torre.
“Señor de la Torre, very soon your name will be Señor de la Basso!” I cried, as I moved my Spy character — disguised as a RED engineer — forward to sap de la Torre’s sentry gun. Another BLU player, a Scout whose name I did not recognise, pressed on to help us grab the control point…
* * *
DERPY: Over in Canterlot Castle Reference Library, on orders from HRH Princess Luna, I was to seek out and find the most friendly TF2 players in the land to help Alberto’s BLU team out, young and old alike.
I already had in mind who would be most suitable. Timmy Garcia, 28yo, Alberto’s cousin, was certainly one such person. There were also such other friendly and willing entities as Gabriele Garcia, 25yo, Timmy’s younger (but taller!) brother; Avele Gonzales, also 25yo, Gabriele’s and Timmy’s childhood friend; Lucio Morales, 24yo, the youngest and only gamer among the three maternal cousins of Timmy and Gabriele; Kelvino “Kevin” Morales, 60yo, Lucio’s American-born father; Andrea Sandoval, 22yo, a young and sympathetic Aymara gentleman from La Paz who was back in Bolivia for a holiday; Juanito di Carlo and Agostino di Mario, both 22yo, two Vatican citizens who were also highly skilled players and currently based in Sucre, and also friends of Sandoval; Ghideone di Costa, Edison Le Blanc, and André Sepulveda, all 23yo, all church-friends of Timmy and Gabriele; Marco di Giovanni and Dereco di Gianni, both 25yo, former schoolmates of Gabriele Garcia and Avele Gonzales (Dereco had been Alberto’s vocal student once before, according to the records we had in Canterlot Castle reference library) ; Raul Fernandes, 50yo, the lawyer whom Huascar had sent to help Alberto during the period when Don Francisco had wanted to sue him; and Guglielmo di Cristoforo and Mohammed Bourhenouddine, both 19yo, Timmy’s and Gabriele’s church friends hailing from Estrela del Mar (in Argentina) and Marakesh (in Morocco) respectively. Add those up, plus Alberto — and the BLU team had a total of 16 players.
I was also aware about the anti-cheating system as set up by the GALA (Gamers’ Association of Latin America). With that in mind, I made sure I chose most of these people rightly; it should be noted that Alberto had only met four of them personally — Timmy, Raul, Marco, and Dereco. Even then, Dereco and Raul had only strictly professional relationships with Alberto. Marco had been Alberto’s soccer companion years ago when they were younger. Possibly the only one of those chosen who knew Alberto well, was Timmy Garcia. Furthermore, when I chose these people, I made sure I did not tell them what the ulterior motive was — to help Alberto defeat Don Francisco and win the title. After all, Alberto was still relatively new to the game.
I looked into the big mirror in the hall of Canterlot, and those fifteen faces came before me. It was then that I knew what I had to do — fly down to Earth and give them invitations allowing them to take part in the gaming competition. And that’s just what I did.
The response turned out far better than expected; all of those whom I gave the invitations to, were more than enthusiastic to be part of this. In fact many of them, despite being far stronger players than Alberto, were taking part in this for the very first time in their life.
So I was not too surprised when all of those I had selected, turned up for the competition on time, indeed 15 minutes before hand, all on BLU team. It was shocking, though, that this time the RED team — for the first time in history — was made up of entirely Peronistas; other than reigning TF2 champion Don Francisco, other players on RED in this particular championship contest included such names as “Metaldrake” (Enrique de la Torre), “Ayase” (Ali Baba), “SneakerAB” (Bangalee Muthusamy a.k.a. the Wrist-Gasher), and many more.
Coincidence? I certainly doubted so. Somehow one or more of them must have found out about Alberto’s intentions and done this! Was it because of Alberto’s ignorant mistake last month when he went to buy that fatal chicken steak from Jaime Lozada’s illegal street-hawker stall? I certainly didn’t know for sure. But it was pretty clear that they were aware that Alberto was taking part. Or were they?
In any case, Rainbow Dash was already there with Huascar, observing Alberto. So, being sure to keep in touch with her, I flew off to see what the baddies were doing on their end. Of course, knowing that these were bad people, I knew I had to observe them discreetly.
In the Gaming Hall of Perez Manor, Don Francisco Juan Perez and fifteen of his top men had gathered. Other than Perez, I recognised the faces of Benz Guzmán, Sean Brink, Ali Baba, Jose de la Cruz, Bangalee Muthusamy, the della Torre brothers (Eduardo and Enrique), Jovento Bajarán, Justeno Coleda, Natanaele “Gleek” Duarté, Dario Coleda, Bjørn Løwenthal, Rafael Ruíz, Taddeo Spettro, and Jaime Lozada. I knew all of them were extremely dangerous, and was very careful to keep my observation discreet.
It was amazing — the bad guys were in surprisingly good form. From where I was, I could clearly see that Don Francisco was having no apparent trouble, being aided in this game by all his immediate subordinates. In the first round, Ali Baba, who was playing as a Pyro, burned Alberto’s Sniper to death just as he was a split second away from capturing the control point.
I texted Rainbow Dash immediately, telling her to encourage Alberto. She replied to me saying, “Done. He’s playing better this time around. Continue to observe Don Francisco and company and tell me if you notice anything untoward.”
What happened next was very interesting. I saw a “RED engineer” running over to take care of the sentry gun, which was supposedly built by the RED engineer, Enrique della Torre. This other “engineer” came and destroyed the sentry.
“Caramba!” I heard Enrique della Torre shouting. “Who was that son of a cane maledetto who did that?!”
“After the spy! Quickly!” ordered Don Francisco, as he sat at his computer and pushed his Heavy on and chaingunned an escaping BLU Scout to death, the Scout who had just captured the control point — I later found out that that Scout had been played by Alberto’s other cousin Gabriele Garcia. Don Francisco stood his Heavy on the control point, attempting to recapture it, while Jose de la Cruz played a Medic and attempted to heal Don Francisco’s Heavy.
Suddenly, a BLU sniper used an AWPer Hand and gave a critical headshot on Don Francisco’s Heavy, who fell to the ground, as dead as could be. This is amazing, I thought, this contest both teams are equally matched, and both seem to be playing with equal strength. That death, however, shocked Don Francisco greatly. “I don’t believe this!” he was shouting. “I don’t know who the fuck these opponents of ours are — they’re playing like they don’t seem to fear us at all! I think they must be wizards of some breed that get their powers from the Devil!”
“Just fucking switch your class!” shouted Jose de la Cruz. “Switch to a strong attacking class, like a Soldier or a Pyro!”
Don Francisco switched to a RED Soldier class and began rocket jumping and shooting Cow Mangler 5000 projectiles all over the place. I continued to observe their every move, hoping that Alberto would — with the help of his team-mates that I had chosen for him — finally win this round…..
* * *
ALBERTO: This was a very hard fight. After Don Francisco switched to a RED Soldier and began firing his projectiles from his Cow Mangler, the control point got captured by Benz Guzmán’s RED Scout and Jose de la Cruz’s RED Demoman.
I quickly knew what to do. I switched my class to a BLU Pyro and began running straight for the control point, squirting out fire from my flamethrower as I went. Helping me were a few other BLU players, including a Medic and two Heavies.
The two Heavy players began firing their chainguns on the surprised RED team. One of them stood with me on the control point. I was sniped to death by some silent bullet — it turned out to be from a Sydney Sleeper rifle belonging to Jovento Bajarán’s RED Sniper. While that took me by surprise, at least it gave me the opportunity to switch classes. At that very moment, the control point was again contested — the Heavy player who had been standing on the control point was also sniped to death, and a RED Scout — played by Eduardo della Torre — ran forth to capture the control point.
There was only 2 minutes left on the clock. I switched to a BLU engineer, ran out immediately and built a sentry outside the control point, being sure to make it a full sentry gun with two chainguns and a missile launcher. The control point was in RED hands now, but with the sentry gun built, I just strafed round the control point, hoping not to get shot.
“Mission ends in 60 seconds!” announced Señorita McLaine’s voice. Suddenly while I was halfway capturing the control point, I got an error message saying “Capture blocked by enemy” — and it was true, for Eduardo della Torre’s RED Scout suddenly appeared out of seemingly nowhere and tackled me well with his scattergun. A few shots of Pomson 6000 on him from me. Though della Torre succeeded in destroying me (with the help of another team-mate, a RED soldier — possibly Don Francisco), the Pomson shots I’d fired on him were enough to kill him too, about a second after he’d killed me.
Once again, the control point was being contested. And there was only less than a minute left. And RED was winning. I quickly switched my class to a BLU Scout, knowing that this class captures control points twice as fast as all the others. “We have lost the control point!” came Señorita McLaine’s voice; apparently Eduardo della Torre had successfully captured the control point. The timings for both BLU and RED to the end were about equally matched.
“MEDIC!” I pressed the E key on my keyboard as I ran forth to the control point after respawn. “Mission ends in 30 seconds!” came Señorita McLaine’s voice again. RED was still winning; the clock was still ticking away on RED’s side as I had not yet successfully captured the control point. I still pressed on nonetheless; I knew that it was wrong to ragequit when my team still had a chance of winning..
“Mission ends in 10 seconds!” Bueno! I knew this was it, now or never. I continued strafing on the control point, making sure to not get shot…..
“OVERTIME!” came the voice of TF2 Administrator Helen McLaine. I knew I had just crossed the time limit — but it could not be helped as this was a deuce. It was in fact a good thing, as it gave me time to quickly capture the control point.
And I DID IT!!! Though I was sniped down by the AWPer Hand of a RED Sniper (played by Taddeo Spettro), I just managed to give the winning capture of the control point!!! “Victory!” came the voice of Señorita McLaine. I was listed as the “Most Valuable” player upon that win. In fact, my victory in this championship gave me a few good item drops!!
“Wait!” shouted Huascar. “I know you won, Garcia; but don’t jump for joy! You’ll put the enemy on their alert! It doesn’t matter if this cottage is in the middle of the countryside; those rats will surely find us out now that they’ve lost!”
“Hold on!” interrupted Rainbow Dash. “Derpy just texted me, sent me this link on YouTube! Have a look!”
I checked it quickly. It was a video. It showed something really shocking.
Apparently it was footage of the dying seconds of the championship, shot from outside Perez Manor by Derpy herself. Don Francisco Perez was biting his shirt, getting really desperate; he was extremely amazed that the win he had planned was slipping away from him. Jose de la Cruz and Taddeo Spettro told Perez to “gun down quell’estupido BLU Scout” (the class I was playing as at the time), but Perez himself was outplayed by a few of my BLU team-mates — goodness knows who were the ones playing on BLU other than myself — so Spettro, playing as a RED Sniper, scoped in and gunned me down, and that was when the victory for BLU was announced, and Jose de la Cruz was seen shaking his PC screen and shouting: “Boss! BOSS! How did it come to this?! How did it end up this way?!! Is is sheer wizardry or something?!!”
All that sounded laughable, yes; but what would besaid next would surely bring the most drunken drunkard back to earth. “It is not wizardry,” said Benz Guzmán, “if I am not mistaken, it looks exactly like that scum Alberto Garcia trying to exact revenge against us!”
“Si! Si! Viva Benz Guzmán!” yelled the others present, raising their fists in gestures of support.
“Good boys!” said Benz Guzmán, smirking wickedly.
“General Spettro, General Guzmán, take your minions and go to Pescadoro Manor and kill all the people inside!” Don Francisco ordered. “Do NOT leave a single one standing! Also, Marshal Duarté and Warrant Officer Cruz, go get General Diáz, and capture the youngest daughter of Bernardo León and burn her to death at the stake!”
On seeing and hearing all of that on the video, I was chilled to the bone, you could say. “Not a minute to lose!” I yelled. “Rainbow Dash, go get the other ponies and defend Huascar’s family! Don’t forget to alert the local authorities! And you, Huascar, follow me! Donita and her family are in deep shit; we must rescue them!”
“Anything for you amigo!” cried Huascar.
Huascar and I ran all the way to Pescadoro Manor. We were too late to save the lives of Napoleone and Papa Ferrando. Donita, however, was still alive; indeed, she had already summoned some ponies to her rescue. We saw Big Mac, Braeburn, and Thunderlane tackling the minions.
“What a shame lads! We’re having fun!” remarked Braeburn.
“Let me get at ‘em!” I said.
“NOW!” cried Huascar. And he and I joined the three stallions in fighting the minions. Good thing we had our own revolver guns.
“Donita!” I called out. “We’re here to rescue you!”
Donita was trapped by some Minions on the top floor, it seemed. “I’ll go in and rescue her!” I yelled.
“I’ll come with you!” shouted Huascar.
“No, Huascar! No, you stay here!” I said. “We need to divide the work among us!”
I ran up the stairs. “Donita! I’m here to rescue you!” I cried.
“You …. you…. “ began Donita. The Minions around her began firing at me. With a few rugby tackles I managed to kill them.
“I’ll rescue you now!” I cried. “I’ll untie the rope!”
“Not so fast, amigo!” came a voice from behind me. I felt something cold touching my temple. I turned around. It was General Taddeo Spettro and General Benz Guzmán. “Caramba!” I gasped.
“Ah! So it was YOU who has been messing in our affairs all along!” said Spettro, mocking me. “You and your new best friend Huascar, whom you stole from us!”
“Come with us, Garcia!” said Guzmán. “Someone wants to see you!”
Indeed someone DID want to see me. For just at that moment, a familiar face appeared right there. “Don Francisco?” I gasped.
“Thanks to my faithful co-gamers, I might have known it was you,” said Don Francisco, pointing his gun at me also. “It was you who was doing this to me all along. I should actually thank you, my dear Alberto Garcia, for giving me this beautiful opportunity to personally come and declare checkmate over you. You may have won a virtual battle, si, but you most certainly have not won the REAL war!”
“You are an insolent cad, Don Francisco!” I growled. “You want to do this to me and to Donita! You tell me now: What have we done to you?!”
“Oh! I can certainly count it up!” said Don Francisco. “For one, you try to join our company, All Lee, the Most Prestigious Construction Company in all Latin America, in the hope of winning over followers for YOUR own capitalist cause, which you knew all along that we socialists are against! Secondly, to be sure to get that same favour among your potential followers, you and them remotely challenged me to this year’s TF2 championship!”
“I most certainly do NOT know who were the other players on BLU alongside me!” I growled, being truthful about what I knew and what I didn’t know.
“Y’know what? Whatever,” Don Francisco smirked. “In any case you and Donita can prepare to meet your maker face to face today!” He pulled back a lever and prepared to pull the trigger. Spettro and Guzmán, as well as all the Minions present, did the same.
“POLICE!!! GET YOUR HANDS UP!!!” came a shout from outside. Within seconds, a group of burly local Bolivian police officer commandos burst into the room, pointing submachine-guns at the criminals.
“Que pasa?!” gasped Don Francisco.
“GET YOUR HANDS UP I SAY!!!!” yelled an officer, jamming the nozzle of his submachine gun into Don Francisco’s chin. Don Francisco, clearly going mad, raised his hands and began drooling, as the cops cuffed him up along with Spettro and Guzmán.
The Minions stood by to defend their master. They fired tear gas all around. “Donita! Let’s get out of here!” I cried, dragging the woman who once called herself my wife to the exit door, thinking that the police were here, they had successfully arrested Don Francisco, Benz Guzmán, and Taddeo Spettro, and we were safe.
But I was wrong. Even if three of their top leaders had been arrested, those Minions were FAAAR too strong for us. The minute we got to the room door, it broke down, and engulfed the entire house in flames.
“Caramba!” I cried. “We’re trapped!”
“Just go!” shouted Donita. “I’ll manage on my own! You’ll die if you don’t go!”
“NO!” I shouted. “I’d rather die than see you die, amor! You are the only one I love!”
“Just frickin’ COME!!!” yelled a male voice from outside. Something furry yet hoovy reached in and dragged me out the back window onto the balcony of the mansion. It was Flash Sentry. Using his hooves, he quickly vaulted me prostrate onto his back and flew away. And just a split second after that, I saw Pescadoro Manor explode into guts. No sign of Donita left.
“Donita! NO! DONITAAAAA!!!!” I yelled.
“Alberto, just come with me!” scolded Flash Sentry. “This is not the time to fucking ragequit your life just for the woman you love! Your enemies are still as alive as can be, and you need to be there to help us fight them!”
I saw that Flash Sentry had a point, so I kept quiet and just let him fly me to where the trouble was located.
Flash Sentry took me to the jail in Sucre in Bolivia, where Don Francisco and many of his men were already incarcerated, waiting a fair trial which would be held way up north in London, England. All the big names — including those of Benz Guzmán, Taddeo Spettro, José Nerarondine, Justeno Coleda, Bangalee, Te Kahamate, Alvin Simoneau, Jovento Bajarán, the della Torre brothers, Ace Colombani, Bjørn Løwenthal, Bjørn Stäffansson, Dario Coleda, Bjørn Ingvårsson, Belinda Taimanova, Jaime Lozada, Sean Brink, and many more — were among those whose names were written on the list of newly incarcerated prisoners on the whiteboard therein.
“We’re here to see Don Francisco Juan Perez,” said Flash Sentry.
“His daughter is with him now,” said the guard on duty. “You’ll need to wait first.”
“She asked us to come,” said Flash Sentry.
“But….” I protested.
“Shut up!” Flash Sentry silenced me.
“This way, por favor,” said the guard. He took me over to the cell where Don Francisco was inside, biting his shirt like a madman. The cell had a glass screen with a phone on it for communication between the prisoner and the visitor(s). And in the visitor section, where we were, was Rosalinda Perez.
“Rosa? You called for me?” I asked.
“Alberto, first of all, allow me to say that I’m really sorry about having shouted at you the other day,” said Rosalinda. “I was in great grief and didn’t know what I was doing.”
“It’s ok, Rosa,” I said.
“And one more thing,” went on Rosalinda. “Have you ever once considered why I told you that time that I could never be your woman?”
I took a deep breath. “No?” I said. “Why suddenly you bring this up?”
“Listen to me carefully,” said Rosa, her face growing serious. “It would be incest if I had become your woman.”
“You mean….?” The world was starting to crumble all around me.
“I mean that Don Francisco is not just my papa,” said Rosa, “but he is also YOUR papa. Have a look at this!” She showed me my birth certificate — the very thing I had been looking for for so many years!!
“That’s your mother’s name, Luisa Garcia,” said Rosa, pointing it out to me; “and over here, that’s your father’s name, Francisco Juan Perez — and that’s him, the very man you see in this cell!”
“Alberto,” said Flash Sentry, “Rosa is not angry with you. She is just asking of you one simple favour — to just acknowledge your own father.”
Rosa nodded in affirmation.
I was completely bewildered beyond verbal response. So all along it was HIM — my real papa!! To think that Mama was so reluctant to let me sue him, to think that Rosa was so reluctant to let me marry her — all because Don Francisco was my real father after all!!!
“It’s very simple,” said Flash Sentry; “it should not take you more than a few seconds. Just call ‘Papa’, and you’ll be good.”
I took the communication phone up. I saw Don Francisco take it also on his side.
“Papa!” I said into the transmitter, softly.
I saw Don Francisco, unkempt and mad as he looked, stop biting his shirt, relax his muscles, and look at me with tears in his eyes. He said not a word, however.
I was so overcome that I just broke down and cried onto Flash Sentry’s shoulder.
Just then Flash Sentry got a text on his mobile. He read it and I saw his pointy ears go backwards.
“Que pasa?” I asked.
“Come with me,” he said. “There’s trouble out there. We’ve got to take on Justino Diáz now. They managed to escape the Perez Manor raid successfully!”
* * *
HUASCAR LEÓN: A few minutes after I saw Alberto and Flash Sentry (and later also Rosa Perez) stepping out of the Sucre prison, I went in also to see Don Francisco.
Don Francisco was really aghast at seeing me that he started going mad.
“Ah! Ah! Revenge is sweet!” I declared. “Do you know, Señor Francisco, that Alberto Garcia did not make me go over to his side? That it was I who chose to go over to his side? And I am sure you know that YOU were the one who caused me to transfer allegiance to him — because of what you did to my two sisters!”
Don Francisco began growling like a dog.
“And interestingly,” I went on, “do you know why I chose Garcia to be the one to help me exact revenge? Because he is your son! I wanted to see how exactly you would feel to have your own kin exacting revenge against you, Señor Francisco! How does it feel, tell me? Does it feel sweet? Does it feel good? Yeah?”
“Grrrrrr….. get out!” growled Don Francisco. “I want to EAT you up alive!”
“Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah!” I laughed. “You are a VERY good actor, Don Francisco! I leave you to your fate! Adios!”
As I stepped out of the visitor’s lounge of the Sucre prison, I got a text from Thunderlane, saying this:
Bad news Huascar, your sister is in trouble, Justino Diáz has kidnapped her and demanded a ransom from your parents. Come and rescue her at once. She’s at the pavilions of Los Altiplanos del Gran Chaco. See you. Thunderlane
“Caramba!” I cried. I made a quick dash straight back for Chaco….
* * *
ALBERTO: Indeed there was trouble in the township of Chaco. Justino Diáz and Jose de la Cruz, along with Natanaele Duarté, and a whole contingent of Minions numbering more than a hundred, had tied and gagged poor Eudora León to a stake and were prepareing to set fire to it. Helplessly looking on were Huascar León and his parents Bernardo and Isabella. Flash Sentry and I saw Thunderlane standing with the Leóns.
“Caramba!” I gasped. “You were right!”
“The other ponies will be here soon,” said Thunderlane. “When I give the signal, they’ll move in.”
“Jirunimu Inca Bernardo León! You have ten seconds to surrender your service to me!” Justino Diáz was shouting. “If you do not surrender within ten seconds, you will see your most loved one turning into cinders and ashes! 1! 2! 3!….”
Isabella León was so overcome that she almost vomited blood. “Mama! Take it easy!” cried Huascar.
“I’m fine, thanks,” said Dona Isabella. “Just get me a gun.”
“You scum!” yelled Don Bernardo. “You MUCHACHO! Justino Diáz! No way will I surrender to you! Leave my fucking daughter alone!”
You know that I would be untrue, You know that I would be a liar, If I was to say to you, That I could never light a fire! Come on, mateys, light my fire! Come on mateys, light mt fire! Time to set the night on fire!
“Now!” said Thunderlane. “ATTAAAAACK!!!”
“Gee up!” I yelled.
“Let’s go!” shouted Flash Sentry.
“AAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!” With a loud shout, the other ponies burst onto the scene. Derpy, Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy, Applejack, Twilight Sparkle, Big McIntosh, Braeburn, Snips, and Snails all ran in, brandishing guns and firing at Justino Diáz, Natanaele Duarté, and Jose de la Cruz. Thunderlane sang to them:
The time to hesitate is through! No time to wallow in the mire! The day has come to take ‘em on! Before our life becomes a pyre! Come on mateys, light my fire! Come on mateys, light my fire! Time to set the night on fire!
But to win this war was nevertheless far more than just setting the night on fire. All of us had to be involved, even Don Bernardo, Dona Isabella, and Huascar.
Taunting us, Natanaele Duarté sang:
Listen to me guajiras, While I’m singing you this song! As long as love will endure, You can always wait so long!
Of all of us, Huascar was perhaps the most eager to save his own sister. While Don Bernardo and Dona Isabella were tackling the Minions and their various clever diversionary tactics, Huascar was rushing up to save his sister, dragging me along. “AAAAHHHH!” he yelled.
And as Huascar and I ran up to her, we sang out a song of deliverance.
Oye como va! Mi ritmo! Buena pa goza! Mulata! Oye como va! Mi ritmo! Buena pa goza! Mulata!
From where I was I could see that he had to break through a lot of boundaries to do so. In the end he just managed to successfully rescue Eudora and pass her into the care of Princess Twilight — but not without getting mortally wounded himself. Jose de la Cruz came up to Huascar who was lying helpless on the ground, about to die anytime.
“May death be your punishment, evil man!” yelled Huascar. Using his Spy-cicle, he ran Cruz right through his arse, and then breathed his last. Cruz gave a loud cry of pain and then slumped lifeless across Huascar’s carcass.
It was then that my cousin, Timmy Garcia, arrived on the scene with the police.
“Bolivian People’s Police!” shouted an officer. “Justino Rodrigo Diáz and company! Please follow us back to assist us in our investigations!”
Within seconds, Duarté and Diáz were cuffed up and led away by the police, as were all their surviving minions.
“Is Eudora safe?” asked Don Bernardo, noticing that Eudora was asleep on the back of Princess Twilight. “I think her mother and I want her back. We’ve already lost our three oldest kids.”
“She’s safe,” said Timmy; “and don’t you worry, Uncle and Auntie; she’s just catching up for all those lost nights. Rest assured we’ll return her to you now.”
Princess Twilight slowly trotted up to the León parents. “Behold, your daughter,” she said.
“Gracias,” said Don Bernardo, as he gently lifted Eudora’s sleeping body off Princess Twilight’s back. He and Isabella slowly walked away with the sleeping Eudora piggy-backing on him.
Now only Timmy and I, as well as all the ponies, were left on the battleground of Chaco pavilions.
“I can’t believe this is what happened,” said Timmy, as he gazed on at the wreckage. “This is the worst war we’ve fought since I went to study in Syldavia!
Una pena indescriptible Que jamás me dejará Solo hay sillas en las mesas Mis amigos ya no están. De revolución hablamos La flama se encendió Le cantaron al mañana Y el mañana no llegó.
Desde aquella mesa vieja Otro mundo renacer Y se alzaron con sus voces Los puedo oír aquí Con su palabra y su canción. Sus almas se fundieron Pero el sueño se esfumó Se fue.
Oh perdón, perdón amigos Me salvé y ustedes no Esta pena indescriptible Jamás me abandonó.
Veo su rostro en las ventanas Su presencia viva está Solo hay sillas y en las mesas Donde nadie cantará.
Mis amigos no pregunten Si su muerte servirá! "Empty chairs and empty tables"... Y su canto ya no está.
“It is all right, cuz,” I said to Timmy, “but we’ve won. Sometimes sacrifices have to be made.”
“What a sacrifice!” cried Flash Sentry, taking me aside momentarily to gently nuzzle me. “See? Huascar was such a friend to you, he even laid his own life down for your sake!”
I said nothing in reply but just cried onto Flash Sentry’s mane.
“You should give Huascar a good funeral, amigo,” said Thunderlane.
“I still can’t get over it,” I said. “I can’t believe that HE was the Papa I was looking for all along!!”
“Just because he was your papa, that rat,” said Braeburn, “does not mean it’s the end of the world. I mean, come on!
Where was your father when you needed him most? He picks up and leaves and there's bad things he does. You tell me your bloodline's made that way, You tell me your dad has gone astray, And you don't feel like carrying on.
You're stranded in life cos of him and you know. You figure that now there's a curse on your soul. You tell me you'd like me to change your mind? Read all of Ezekiel 18 and find The child don't need to bear the brunt.
Cos you had a bad dad, so baby what now? Who said your dad's son can't just turn it around? In case you dunno, I'll show you couple guys; The worst in the Bible, but their kids were all right. You had a bad break, your family's gone awry, But calm it back down, baby really don't cry. You have a better fate -- you gotta have faith.
Well you need to cruise by Psalms today The 27th chapter; what does it say When Dad don't seem to care at all?
Cos you had a bad dad, so baby what now? Who said your dad's son can't just turn it around? In ages long ago, King Ahaz was a guy Who was worthless and vile, but he had Hezekiah. And after that day, King Amon arrived, Who brought a black cloud, but his kid was Josiah. Who brought a better day... ooh, follow me!
Second Kings 16 through 23 shows you how things can turn around. Kings Ahaz and Amon were vile to the core, But they had the most righteous sons to be on the throne. Yeah...
So where was your daddy when you needed him most? Ooh, you know what? You need to believe in a Dad you can trust.
Cos you had a bad dad, so baby what now? Who said your dad's son can't just turn it around? In Second Chronicles 28 thru 35, King Ahaz was reviled but they loved Hezekiah. And what about Amon? He was despised, But how they loved his son Josiah; You have a better fate -- you gotta have faith!
Thus Braeburn softly sang as he gently nuzzled me. “You’ll be all right, Alberto,” he said. “You can begin afresh — and that’s exactly what you’re gonna do!”
“Princess Twilight has prepared a room for you in Canterlot,” said Derpy. “You won’t have to walk upon this horrible sod anymore. You will live in eternal bliss!”
“But first,” said Big McIntosh, “I think your national government wants to congratulate you for winning the TF2 Championship and also saving your people. Go and have a rest first. Tomorrow you’ll be seeing your president.”
It was true; the following day I met President Evo Moralés in the local parliament; he congratulated me and presented me with our local Bolivian knighthood, the Order of San Fernando (OSF). For the first time in history, I would be addressed by the general public as “Don Alberto”.
Tragic news arrived shortly after my knighthood. Don Francisco had escaped from prison!! He was now like a wild goose on the loose…..
* * *
FLUTTERSHY: I heard about Don Francisco’s escape but I was not fearful in the least. I knew what I had to do. It was a good thing that me and my fellow ponies were stationed all around Bolivia, ready to defend anytime.
I saw Don Francisco limping near the river Orinoco, leading up to Venezuela. He was nuzzling a bright red rose (not half caring if there were bees inside it!) and singing this weird song:
Rose, Rose, I love you, With your almond eyes! Fragrant and slender, Beneath the tropical skies. I must cross the seas again And never see you more. Way back to my home On a distant shore!
That was when his eyes met mine. “Caballo viejo pequeño,” he said, sounding half deranged and half sarcastic, “doest thou bring tidings of peace?”
“How can there be peace in Bolivia,” I said, “after all you have done?
From the head to the toe, You’re defeated, don’t you know! You have caused so much grief, Now you’ll see just what we mean! As your guns have all made Many mothers childless now, So now will your mama Be childless among women! Fly away, fly away, fly away!
And so singing, I pointed my pistol at the deranged Don Francisco, who was clearly unable to defend himself. “This is the kiss of a pony!” I yelled, shooting him in the neck.
“OWWW!!!” howled Don Francisco, grabbing his neck and falling to the ground, still alive but mortally wounded.
“Are you choking on your blood?!” I mocked him. “You tortured me way too much! You tortured poor Alberto way too much!”
“Help me!” gasped Don Francisco, scrabbling on the grass like a madman. “My neck! OOOOH!!!”
“Die in damnation!” I said. “Die! Die! DIE!”
“Ah!” gasped Don Francisco, breathing his last.
He’s dead, I said to myself, now I can consider forgiving him.
All the same, I knew I had to give an account to Alberto about this….
* * *
ALBERTO: Thank goodness Fluttershy came to our rescue just in time! But I was still not able to get over the fact that Don Francisco was after all my biological father.
Fluttershy came to see me and told me that Mama was dying. I went over to visit Mama in the hospital. "Finally, my son, you've come to see me!" she said.
"Mama," I said, "is it true that Don Francisco is my papa?"
Mama choked back a sob. "Alberto, my son," she said, "I think it's time I told you the truth. Years ago, I was working for him as a dishwasher. He tried to rape me one day. I was not able to defend myself and ended up conceiving you. I fled from his house in great shame, knowing that it is illegal in all Latin America to abort babies. I raised you as a single mother, hoping that you would never find out the truth. I was actually quite shocked that you somehow bumped into him in your course of finding employment. Perhaps.... perhaps only.... it might be fate.
"Don't hold it against him for having wronged you so often, son. Just remember that he was once your papa. I hope you can forgive him and me. We have wronged you greatly, Alberto.....
"I can see your grandpapa and your grandmama.... they're calling me over for a chat..... I feel very tired...... I want to rest..... I want...."
And with that, Mama's eyes closed as she drifted off into a peaceful slumber, never to wake again. She was 61 years young. Fluttershy and I could not help bawling our eyes out.
That night, overwhelmed by emotions (especially because of Mama's death) and clutching my knighthood badge in my hands as I sat down on the benches of Chaco pavilions, I sang:
So this is who I am, And this is all I know. And I must choose to live, For all that I can give, The spark that makes the power grow.
And I will stand for my dream if I can, Symbol of my faith in who I am, But you are my only. And I must follow on the road that lies ahead, And I won't let my heart control my head, But you are my only.
And we don't say goodbye, We don't say goodbye. And I know what I've got to be.
Immortality. I make my journey through eternity. I keep the memory of you and me inside.
Fulfill your destiny, Is there within the mild, My storm will never end, My fate is on the wind, The king of hearts, the joker's wild.
But we don't say goodbye, We don't say goodbye. I'll make them all remember me.
Cos I have found a dream that must come true, Every ounce of me must see it though, But you are my only. I'm sorry I don't have a role for love to play, Hand over my heart I'll find my way, I will make them give to me.
Immortality. There is a vision and a fire in me. I keep the memory of you and me inside. And we don't say goodbye. With all my love for you, And what else we may do, We don't say… goodbye.
Oh Señor! Mi oracion; llevo a Ti, con amor. Donde estás, quiero ir; Llevame, hacia Ti. Ven por mi, ven por mi, ven por mi!
My words seemed to have some invocative powers, for at that moment nine cute furry ponies came walking up to me. Derpy, Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy, Big McIntosh, Braeburn, Thunderlane, Flash Sentry, Snips, and Snails. Along with them was my cousin, Timmy.
“I know it’s hard getting over it,” said Derpy, gently nuzzling me, “but you don’t have anything to fear now. We’ve prepared a place for you in Equestria, in Canterlot Castle. Princess Twilight Sparkle is getting it furnished for you now.”
“Will those scums ever come back?” I wondered.
“They will be well taken care of in London,” said Big McIntosh. “Trust that the British parliament will pass upon them a fair sentence.”
“Just pass your earthly duties to your cousin and heir,” said Flash Sentry. “He’ll know what to do.”
“Si,” I said. “Timmy, come here.
On this page, I write my last confession. Keep it well, and share it with your church friends. It’s a story about the magic in love. The ponies taught me all the love, And now I can impart it unto thee!
I passed the written page to Timmy. Derpy trotted up to me, as did the other ponies; and hugging me tightly, she sang:
Come with me, where chains will never bind you! All your grief, at last, at last behind you! Oh Celestia, look down on him in mercy!
My eyes welling up in tears, I sang:
Forgive me all my trespasses, and take me to Thy glory!
And suddenly, the next thing I knew, I was in a beautiful place of green hills, apple trees, and beautiful scenery, with all kinds of ponies (and the nine who were with me) around me, praising the magic of friendship and singing this song, which I joined in:
Hoy el pueblo cantará En la penumbra va a surgir. Esta es la música de un pueblo Que a la luz se quiere unir. Alguien sufre la opresión La flama eterna alumbrará; Hasta la noche más obscura Final tendrá!
Vivirán en libertad En los jardines del señor. Dejarán a tras la espada Volverán a su labor. Caerán las cadenas Que traen un futuro mejor!
Ven y únete a luchar En la cruzada vencerás; Tras de la barricada Un nuevo mundo pronto surgirá. Hoy el pueblo cantará, Con el tambor se anunciará; Un nuevo mundo que mañana comenzará.
Ven y únete a luchar En la cruzada vencerás; Tras de la barricada Un nuevo mundo pronto surgirá. Hoy el pueblo cantará, Con el tambor se anunciará; Un nuevo mundo que mañana comenzará.
