La Espalda Peluda
Escrito por Sr. Suave
Pepino Suave sits on a Durango park bench, his back to the adobe-walled Church of the Most Padrisimo. He shares the bench with Christina “La Espalda Peluda” Angelerez, an adopted member of the local Mennonite tribe, taken in years ago because her boyish frame and bristly back were considered a sign of good fortune. She fled the tribe days ago, as she found the Mennonites, “too sarcastic”. Having squatted on the park bench for days, Mr. Suave finally hired her as trainer and groomer of Pepino’s loyal ass, Newt. It was more an effort to re-claim his favorite park bench from the stinking, pitiful, wench, than an act of altruism.
Newt lies in front of the park bench, grazing lazily in the grass and serving as an ottoman for Mr. Suave’s gangly, outstreched legs.
La Espalda Peluda slouches next to our protagonist, sipping on a bottle, soaking in tequila and regret. She waves off clouds of flies, and quietly simmers over her lost promise as the hairy-backed, boyish, token of prosperity for the “Yokels”, the inbred Mennonite clan of the Durango high desert. She smells of urine, fermented agave nectar, with hints of Love’s Baby Soft, and plums.
Lost in her loss, she is deaf to Mr. Suave’s chatty monologue:
I am Pepino Suave. Some years ago, after my mariachi career was scuttled by the greedy promoter “Papa D”, I took my donkey Newt and his burden of a half ton of uncorrected spelling quizzes and standardized tests (I moonlighted as substitute elementary school teacher at a Durango public school), and set out to seek vengeance on my rivals: the bastard Papa D, scheming headmaster of a corrupt Chilean orphanage, and the idiotic Will Ferrel, a Gringo actor and thief. Yes, Papa D. stole my good name, and Ferrel my movie concept. Alas, my efforts to redeem my good name were in vain, as fate took care of that for me.
Sr. Suave pulls a newspaper off of his bench mate (E. Peluda used the periodical as a bedspread throughout the previous night. “Rent’s cheap” she reasoned in a 7-Marlboro-packs-a-day-voice. Stevie Nicks-esque). He shows the front page to the camera,. The headline screams:
“Papa D Indicted”
The lead explains Papa D’s claim that he’d never imagined an orphanage run by Catholic priests and financed by teamsters could be corrupt. “Oh me, oh my”, he is quoted as saying.
Mr. Suave continues:
Yes, this Papa D., he steals the identity of an innocent man, Tim Fournier, to try to ruin me. Who could believe that I have another life, a life as common and dull as this Mr. Fournier? And this wife of his, is it she that wears the pants? Give me one day with that fellow, and I’ll make a macho out of him. A few hours with a tequila bottle, a couple of girls, and a cock fight, and we’d put some hair on his back, no? (he nudges the miserable mennonite, she responds with a fragrant burp).
I digress. This Papa D cabron, is only half of it. I was also searching for el idiota Ferrell. I nearly wore out Newt on the hot streets of L.A. looking for the goofball. Again, luck beat me to it.
Mr. Suave pulls another newspaper off of the unshaven park troll and shows it to the camera. This headline shouts: