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Join Date: Jul 24, 2013
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ABQ- Episode 5 'A Recipe for Disaster"
If you missed Episode one, two,three and four please go ahead and read It before starting Episode five. Otherwise none of this is going to make any fuckin sense. Episode 5 is very long so ABQ apologizes for that.
Drama...aint no drama like what ABQ has gone thru. Feel me?
Disclaimer…. This is for entertainment purposes only anything else that happens between the author and the reader is purely fictional in nature. This is a purely fictional dramatic tale End of Disclaimer.
This aint no PG rated post- Reader discretion is extremely advised for this episode. Seriously I mean it!
For those having Breaking Bad withdrawal maybe these episodic posts may help. Even though they are cliff notes versions. Enjoy!
“Dude why not just cross the border in El paso.” Skinny Pete asks “Why the flippin fuck fuck do we have to drive all the way to Laredo and shit. That is a fuckin long ass drive. I am still tired from the drive to El Paso from the tone.”
“Too much heat. Mi cousin said this was best that if we were to drive straight into Juarez with this huge Frito Lay truck local Po-Po would be all over us before we even hit the damn border. And what exactly are you complaining about you raided the back of the truck when we stopped for gas.” I tell him.
“Dude I never knew how much shit Frito Lay made. They got fritos, doritos, Lays, Sunchips, Cheetos, ruffles, grandma’s cookies and funyuns. Of course among other shit.” Pete says gleefully as he bites into another funyun. His side of the passenger is full of different snacks up to almost his waist.
“I never understood why you always eatin them funyuns. What is so great about em anyway?”
“Dude them are the bomb yo. Wanna know why? First off Frito Lay is a monster of a company. They gotz like a dope ass monopoly of the snack business. They are the McDonalds of snacks ese. But going back to my love of funyuns they are of an onion-flavored corn snack introduced in the year 1969. While constituted primarily of cornmeal, Funyuns are ring-shaped, evoking the shape and texture of fried onion rings. I had an ex once told me she would also crush them up for casserole toppings. Go figure and shiz. Man I even go to Arby’s get me a huge roast beef sandwich then put some of their special sauce and toss a few funyuns in there for good measure. I call it Roastyfied Onion Heaven.”
It is like constituted Onion Powder meets cheetos. Onion flavored potato chips only lighter and made to look like onion rings. I know you love your trivia so let me splash you with some on funyuns.”
“It was invented by Frito-Lay employee Ray Trinidad of Arlington, Texas. While consisting primarily of cornmeal, Funyuns are ring-shaped using an extrusion process, representing the shape and texture of fried onion rings. A salt and onion mix gives them the flavor. They are a product of PepsiCo's Frito-Lay company. They were named "Funyuns" by University of North Texas professor and copywriter Jim Albright after it was discovered that the first choice of name for the product, "OnYums", had already been taken by a company called Rudolph Foods.
In 2005, the window cutout showing the actual product inside the bag was replaced by a photograph of the product, falling in line with the design of the rest of Frito-Lay's product line. The big-bag Funyuns was one of the last Frito-Lay brands to completely phase out the "window." In Brazil these snacks are commercialized as "Cebolitos.”
“But enough about Frito Lay homie…We aint even half way there yet. Seriously dude what happened to you at the Monastery? You seemed changed, not your old self, not the ABQ I know. “ Pete tosses the empty bag of funyuns on the I-10 Interstate.
“Asswipe what the fuck are you doing? We are driving a stolen Frito Lay truck here and your dumb self liters the highway. You are nothing more than a stupid puddle of a homeless man’s urine. Some of the things you do are motherfuckin incomprehensibly and insanely idiotic. How exactly are you a Homo Sapien? I say this while taking a small sip of Patron.
“Bite me. In fact why does your ass not stop at IKEA and assemble some balls.” Was all Skinny Pete could come up with.
“You half wit lard monkey azz only who wishes you were associated with the Kardashians. That way you could be toothless and a rug muncher. You tampon breath motherfucker.“ I finish my name calling.
Pete says nothing but instead turns on the radio. After searching for a minute he snarls at me as a song is playing.
“Went from Mr. 305, Dade County, to Mr. Worldwide, all around the world
Now we're International, so international, international, so international,
You can't catch me, boy (can't catch me, boy)
I'm overseas and about a hundred G's per show
Don't test me, boy (Don't test me, boy)
Cause I rap with the best for sure,
305 till the death of me
Cremate my body and let the ocean have what's left of me”
“Pete if you do not turn that fuckin song off right now I will personally get out of this truck, then take my boot off and beat your face in till it looks like a bitch!” I say as each word my voice rises with more and more anger.
Pete turns to me as he turns off the radio and says. “See motherfucker keep talkin shit to me.”
“Pitbull can kiss my ass.”
“Dude you and Pitbull need to settle your differences. You know like what you did with that retired US Marshall that got under your skin.”
“Skinny Pete you are nothing but a used toilet paper wad. An old Saturday afternoon school special that no one watches. You are the biggest Ass jackin, bohemian butt-fuckin fatherless faggot I ever seen.”
“Dude I have no motherfuckin idea you are talking about. At least I am not running from some retarded US Marshalls and ready to go back in bed with the Cartel.” Skinny Pete relies back to me.
“I told you it is the organization who must not be named.”
“Cartel. Cartel. Cartel….Cartel.” Skinny Pete says as each word gets louder. “You are like the luckiest bastard I ever met cause if I would of done what you did my head would be on a turtle in Juarez desert somewhere.”
At least fifteen minutes of silence pass before I speak.
“Look I appreciate you coming down here and also ridin with me all Chamillionaire. I do but staying at that monastery for almost a week and a half put some things in perspective for the ole ABQ. I was with my brother, he did not judge me. He brought me in knowing full well I was trying to lay low for a while. Tomas taught me I did not have to run anymore and I should just own up for whatever I have done. I did try the straight and arrow route Pete. I really did. But sometimes if someone looks at me wrong I just snap. I cannot control that shit. I got issues and I drink too much tequila. That being said here I am driving a stolen truck. Only bright side is there is hella Cheetos in the back.
I saw how every single monk there had basically givin up their whole life, their devotion was to their religion and helping others. That was one run down Monastery. I will tell you that it was nothing like what you see in “Assassin’s creed.” I saw my brother and another monk Rory give what little money they had to an old woman so she could go and get some bread. We all do things we are not proud of and look back and reflect. If you saw what I saw and was living there you would maybe have a different thought prospect. I am still the same ABQ but sometimes I hate myself for what I do and unable to get out of mi situation. Where my brother who has nothing gives everything he has. I give nothing back. Being there and only eating raman noodles at night I could see their plight. But they were content with each day of their lives. For some reason I just cannot shake that. On the other side of things my addictions caught up with me namely tequila and Cheetos.
What do we do sling weed and go to strip clubs, look for the hottest of the hottest latina women to bang? Gets tiring after a while. Maybe I see a road way down there and want more. Want to just live a decent life.” I turn to Pete as I finish my rant.
“ABQ a week with the Cartel will get you out of this self-righteous funk that you are in. Maybe even go back and writing songs. Remember we are driving to Laredo because of your sick and twisted cheetos addiction. I like my funyuns but the difference between us is it is not going to get my ass killed.”
“If only you saw what I saw. I cannot shake it.” I tell Pete.
“So what is it? What does the cartel want from you? Is that who you are meeting in Laredo?”
“Pete they want my recipe.” I say not even turning to look at him.
“What recipe?”
“My Sunday Funday recipe.” I reply.
“You fuckin serious? Holy SHIIIIIIIIIIITTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT! !!!!!!!!!!!” Pete says with a huge look of shock on his face. He then farted.
Six Hours Later
Nuevo Laredo is a city located in the Municipality of Nuevo Laredo in the Mexican state of Tamaulipas. The city lies on the banks of the Rio Grande, across from the United States city of Laredo, Texas. The 2010 census population of the city was 373,725. Nuevo Laredo is part of the Laredo-Nuevo Laredo Metropolitan Area with a total population of 636,516. The municipality has an area of 1,334.02 km (515.07 sq mi). Both the city and the municipality rank as the third largest in the state.
The city is connected to Laredo, Texas, across the Rio Grande (Rio Bravo) river by three international bridges and a rail bridge. It is the largest inland port in Mexico, just as its counterpart across the border is the busiest inland port(bridge crossing) in the United States.
Nuevo Laredo was part of the territory of the original settlement of Laredo (now in Texas) which was founded in 1755 by the Spaniard Don Tomás Sánchez in the northern part of the Rio Grande. The settlement's territory was granted to José de Escandón by the King of Spain, and the settlement's territory and population remained unified for 100 years, until the war of 1847, the Mexican–American War. In 1847, the Guadalupe Hidalgo Treaty divided the territory attached to Laredo between Texas and Mexico. New Laredo was founded on May 15, 1848, by seventeen Laredo families who wished to remain Mexican and therefore moved to the Mexican side of the Rio Grande. They identified with Mexico, its history and cultural customs, and decided to keep their Mexican citizenship. The founders of New Laredo even took with them the bones of their ancestors so they continued to rest in Mexican ground.
Nuevo Laredo is located in the northern tip of Tamaulipas on the west end of the Rio Grande Plains. Rio Grande is the only source that supplies its citizens with water. El Coyote Creek supplies Nuevo Laredo's only natural lake El Laguito (The Small Lake). The area consists of a few hills and flat land covered with grass, oak, and mesquite.
Currently we are 3.4ths of a mile away from the Federal prison. There is a helicopter about 2,000 feet from our truck. I see Cabron get out in his black Escalade. He is alone as he approaches me and gives me a half-hearted hug.
“I see you made it cuz. This is awesome. We scratch your back and now you made the first step into scratching our backs.
“My boy Pete says he has to skidaddle.” I tell Cabron.
Cabron quickly approaches Pete who is now getting his lazy ass out of the truck. Sorry ese but you have to come with us for now.”
“I cannot do that. I gotta get back to the Tone.” Pete saying in almost a pleading wimpy voice.
“This is not a request ok. When we are in the air I will teach you to pronounce my name with two R’s so it rolls off your tongue. If you cannot roll your tongue with the letter R how is your white self gonna get some latina pie?” Cabron says laughing hysterically.
“Dude that is like a federal prison over there. I heard what happened in like 2010. I watch CNN and listen to infowars.com and shiz. Over one hundred and fifty felons escaped that federal prison by walking through the main entrance that had been somehow left open. The prisoners left their cells, then their units, then walked through the main entrance and out to freedom. By the time the news was out, there was little doubt that the "escape" had been accomplished with the blessings of the warden. The only bright side is apparently the prisoners simply left instead of killing the guards and other staff before their exodus. The only question remaining is whether the prison warden accepted bribes to release the prisoners, or accepted an offer that "he could not refuse." Perhaps he traded the prisoners' freedom for the sparing of his own life by one or more of the organizations in this area. Once again, this is another blatant display of the arrogance and disdain held for the Calderon led "war on drugs" as well as for the very idea of "government by law."
Mr. Felipe Calderon, Mexico's president, clearly does not have his country under control, as now even the federal prisons have caved in to criminal demands, or worse, actually become part of the criminal payroll. The military and federal police seem to be relatively loyal to the legitimate government, but how many other institutions at local, state, and federal level are in the hands of the others?
I know I should not care but well, if you live in Laredo or along the Texas border, you now have one more very serious reason to care and to demand state and federal protection. There is little doubt that many of the escaped prisoners made a bee-line for the Rio Bravo and the relative safety to be found in Texas. No doubt many of these criminals have contacts in Texas who are willing to harbor them. The police and border patrol officers in the general area have, on top of all the regular headaches, the additional problem of detecting and detaining the Mexican prison escapees who may enter Texas. And Texas citizens, many of them unarmed, have the additional fear of being targeted by these criminals as they attempt to penetrate further into Texas and the other border states.” Pete in his most intelligent tangent I ever heard finally finishes. He needs to shut the fuck up before his head is no more.
“Ohhhh my white friend. You are so misinformed by the liberal media in the United State of America. Calderon is no longer President here. Enrique Peña Nieto is the new President and as far as I can tell which is quite a bit things are much safer and mucho major!.” Cabron grabs Skinny Pete by the neck “No need to worry Ese me and you are gonna be friends. You are going to help us and then we set you free but until then we need you to practice on your R’s.”
Cabron turns to me. “ABQ lets go.” He points toward the chopper. “Do not worry about the truck I have a few associates that will get what we need and then take care of that truck.” “Can you believe the news is saying a couple of dimwits stole a Frito Lay truck.” I was on the ground for a minute laughing my ass off at that one.”
And with that I start walking toward the helicopter. Cabron still has skinny Pete by the neck. I yell out very loudly “They better be bringing my fuckin cheetos!!!!!!”
It does not take a neuron scientist to know we are heading west and most likely closer and closer to Juarez. As my couz is teaching Skinny Pete some very important double letter pronunciation I cannot help but reflect on the last time I saw Don Fernando. Every time I would see that dude he still reminds me of that main character from “Machete.” Except with a thicker moustache and uglier. I know how is that even possible? But it is homies. Don Fernando is all of five foot six on a good day but he works out like every day.
Fall 2009-
(This is told in English to conserve space. The conversation was originally all in Spanish)
“ABQ you should be dead and buried in the desert for what you have done to me. How you have disgraced my family. However I will keep my rage hidden deep inside until you say something to piss me off. But I have an out for you. I am going to pit you against another enemy of mine. If you win you get to leave here and we will not touch you. You will however owe me a favor which I can cash in at anytime, anywhere or anyplace. If you lose well let’s just say Mexico will be your home for a long time.” Fernando says while putting my head under his arm.
Five minutes later a white guy, bald looks very military like at least six foot two and built like steel is being dragged by five members of the organization that must not be named. Before I know it eight members plus Don Fernando is surrounding us.
“So here is what we are going to do eses. A competition is in order of the singing variety and you two are the final contestants. Both of you are going to do some freestyle rap and I will be the lone judge.
“Whaaaaat. I cannot rap. I am white. Please just let me go. I want to see my family.” The military guy who I found out much later that his name was Rob. Don Fernando starts to light up a Cigar.
“Ok. You are right your odds are not good. You are white and probably cannot stand rap or hip hop or even worse latina music. I say this because I know you are an extreme hard core Republican in the states. But hey if Eminem can do it why the fuck can’t you?” Fernando says as he pulls out his gun. Rob looks at me and as only ABQ can say I serenade him with these words. “Freestyle me bitch!”
Little by little our boy Rob starts to sing as this is his moment of truth. His American Idol, The Voice all rolled up into one. He has to take all his nervousness and fear but somehow control it to do something very few white people can do. ABQ actually feels for him even though if he is an Emimem wannabe my azz is grass. With that I hear Rob open up.
“All you haterz looking at me aint like you the fools
But guess what I am the greatest and dis shit just make you my bitch
Kidnapping, assault don’t matter to me because you are all nothing but shit
You will be the one scared of me holding your dick, cause eses that’s so damn sick
Alright it is hot in this desert and win, lose or draw I’m so real cause fuck you all my haters
So this white military boy is doing some hip hop all gotz to say is watch your back before I Blackhawk down you with my assault rifle
You’ll be sittin home never wanting to come out as mi homies that’s right awaiting the miltary’s arrival”
And with that he spits on the ground next to one of Fernando’s hired guns.
Don Fernando comes closer to the Military grunt. “That was not bad for a white boy scared out of his mind. However just spit on one of my employees. Which means you spit on me.” He bitch slaps Rob the grunt. “But listen to this your competition and me has some bad blood. But if he says two sentences that make any damn sense. Well then Mexico will be your permanent home so called Military man. “ABQ your dance floor.”
“I work like an ese but spend like a white man
Benz, BMW, lexus or cadddie it does not matter for Uncle Sam
Gotz no more bling bling diamonds holding me down
Cause the ole ABQ is up against this horse clown
But I back up and see his pain, anguish and suffering as he just wants to do an ET and go home
My anaconda kick game is crazy and why? Cause you are holding your balls when I gotz the phone and what you got nothing but some creamy horseshit foam.
Clean that shit up as I am chained no more instead I got the illiest deal in the city and a record label to boot bitch!
But don’t get gassed up on all of this misery that’s you when I have life’s riches
One last thing before I ass you up can you lean like a chulo?”
Fifteen minutes later
I am walking side by side with Don Fernando saying nothing. Up 100 feet ahead or so are five of Fernado’s employees dragging Rob the grunt as they approach the back of an old barn. I hear a buzzing sound.
“You lucky I like Cabron so much.” With that Don Fernando runs up to his employees and grabs Rob as they walk closer to the machine that is currently on. I know exactly where they are taking him. It is a monster of a machine and ABQ has goosebumps. Are they taking me to this awesome piece of destruction too. For one of the few times in my life mi Anaconda goes limp.
Don Fernando at a quicker pace now continues to drag Rob the grunt hurrying with each pace. Rob is yelling but out here in the desert only coyotes can hear you and they don’t give a fuck. Don Fernando and three of his employees pick up Rob and feed him to the machine which seems alive and twisted and wants more. Rob is yelling even louder as I see limbs being splattered to the left and right.
A tree chipper or wood chipper is a machine used for reducing wood (generally tree limbs or trunks) into smaller woodchips. They are often portable, being mounted on wheels on frames suitable for towing behind a truck or van. Power is generally provided by an internal combustion engine from 3 horsepower (2.2 kW) to 1,000 horsepower (750 kW). There are also high power chipper models mounted on trucks and powered by a separate engine. These models usually also have a hydraulic crane.
Tree chippers are typically made of a hopper with a collar, the chipper mechanism itself, and an optional collection bin for the chips. A tree limb is inserted into the hopper (the collar serving as a partial safety mechanism to keep human body parts away from the chipping blades) and started into the chipping mechanism. The chips exit through a chute and can be directed into a truck-mounted container or onto the ground. Typical output is chips on the order of 1 inch (2.5 cm) to 2 inches (5.1 cm) across in size. The resulting wood chips have various uses such as being spread as a ground cover or being fed into a digester during papermaking.
Most wood chippers rely on energy stored in a heavy flywheel to do their work (although some use drums). The chipping blades are mounted on the face of the flywheel, and the flywheel is accelerated by an electric motor or internal combustion engine.
Large wood chippers frequently are equipped with grooved rollers in the throat of their feed funnels. Once a branch has been gripped by the rollers, the rollers transport the branch to the chipping blades at a steady rate. These rollers are a safety feature and are generally reversible for situations where a branch gets caught on clothing.
But this is one large wood chipper with the collar removed. I want to turn away but cannot. There is something oddly fascinating of seeing a wood chipper in action tearing limbs from limbs at a robust pace.
Don Fernando with blood all over his face turns to me. “ABQ get out of here or your next!” A hand grabs my arm and starts to tug and pull my three hundred pound ass away from this mayhem. It is Cabron.
“Your Military guy was actually an undercover Narc. So I say this once Cuz this is your one time get out of jail free card.” Cabron tells me.
I snap out of my memory lane as this helicopter begins its decent to the ground. Unlucky for me the first person I can make out is one Don Fernando. He has on a yellow shirt today. The only thought I have right now is this. That recipe is mine….bitch!
Episode Six- Metamorphosis
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