On opening the door to the ‘Gringo’s Cantina‘, the smell of homemade cochinita pibil made me weep again. My mother’s speciality, I considered selling my soul for a bite, but realised that I probably wouldn’t have enough to afford it.. I was ushered into the back room, where some large men with guns stood around a wooden chair. I was roughly pushed into it and then left alone, despite being told the way to Amarillo. Or having my manhood insulted, I don’t know, I don’t speak Danish.
The lights suddenly went out and everything went silent, apart from some scraping noises. Straining to look or hear anything else, I wondered where my heart bought a speaker from as I could hear the bloody thing beating at full volume. Just as I was getting to the point where my arsehole was twitching like an all-day birdwatching convention, a powerful light was shone into my face..
“Raymondo… It’s good to see you..” A deep voice said in Spanish. Squinting into the light, I couldn’t make anything out apart from a vague shape.
“Raymondo. You owe a debt. We know what you did, back in Juarez. Things can be forgiven, mano. In time. But you left without accepting the consequences”
Sweating profusely, I started to babble apologies when the voice sharply cut me off
“Stop blubbering, el hombre temeroso. We are here to collect your debt.”
“But why the surgery?!?!” I almost screamed
“You’re famous, Raymondo. Raymondo Compra. El Diablo de Juarez! We can’t have you being arrested. So we took the liberty of…changing things” A booming lagh rang round the walls
“So, who am I now??” My mind was reeling
“Your new identity will be given to you on exit. We’ll let you keep your passport…We’d only find you anyway.. Hahaha… Anyway! To business! We have recently acquired an annoymous stake in a local soccer club. We are going to install you as manager and you will get 50DKK p/w, with the rest going to us. When you have paid off your debt, you can leave.. Any questions?”
I swallowed. “What club is this?”
The voice laughed. “The local Christian association club. KFUMs Boldklub Roskilde.”
I was suspicious “Are they just that? Or are they into anything weird or kinky? Like devil worship? or docking?”
The voice paused. “Docking? What is this docking?”
“Docking’s where one hombre sticks his old chap…erm…into the other’s hom… You know what, it doesn’t matter!”
The voice sighed. “Your office is waiting. Your assistant manager is an ex-Danish international who got himself too deep into a cock-fighting ring and now works for us, as long as he doesn’t want the policia to find out about the kilo of yeyo and murdered puta..You’ll be hearing from us..”
With that, the light shut off and everything went dark again. When the room lights came back on, I was alone. No trace of anyone. I left the chair and walked through to the front, in the restaurant there was a box and a buff folder sat on a table. The card on the box said “El sabor auténtico” and the delicious aroma of cochinita pibil invaded my nostrils. At least I’ll taste heaven, whilst going through hell, I thought.