journey into mexico, pt. III

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CHAPTER III

"¡Usted puede hacerlo, Tío Sam! ¡Rasgúelo a los fragmentos!"

That's my guide, Paulo, who's yelling in Spanish. He's cheering on our champion cock; Tio Sam as we called him.

"What he said!" I shouted. "Only in English! Glorious English, you bastards!"

It wasn't just Paulo and me who were screaming ourselves hoarse in Tio's honor, either. Montezuma Arena was packed to capacity that night, my friends, and nearly half of those 50,000 manic fans were there to root for our boy!

And why not? He was, after all, the underdog contender for the crown jewel of professional cockfighting.

Since the conclusion of our last chapter, Tio had taken us on a whirlwind ride to the top of Mexico's thriving cockfighting industry. And now, after just three of the craziest weeks in my life, we had reached the very Mt. Everest of that sport -- the 2005 Montezuma Championship Cockfighting Invitational in beautiful downtown Mexico City!

The 2005 Montezuma Championship Cockfighting Invitational (Reenactment)

"¡Mire hacia fuera, Tio Sam!," Paulo shrieked, having regressed to his native tongue in his excitement. "¡El Diablo está intentando rajar su garganta!"

Whatever Paulo was saying, Tio was in trouble -- his opponent, El Diablo, lunged forward with one grizzled claw, slicing wildly at Tio's throat... and in that fraction of a second, my highly tuned Haiku Master vision caught the unmistakable glint of metal 'neath the very skin of Diablo's toes!

"Paulo, the fix is in!" I hissed in my guide's ear. "The other chicken -- it's got some kind of weird metal skeleton!"

"I told you, senór. Is no chicken. Is cock."

"Yes, but what about the metal skeleton?"

"Metal skeleton? What metal skeleton?"

"The one," I said, pointing towards the ring, "in El Diablo!"

"El Diablo has a metal skeleton?" Paulo said, following my finger. "But that would be... oh, madre dios!"

I looked, and immediately wished I hadn't. El Diablo had eviscerated Tio Sam, cackling madly as he danced in our fallen comrade's blood.

Montezuma Arena erupted into chaos, with thousands of losing bettors taking their own lives just moments after Tio's horrible defeat. As El Diablo's training staff stormed the ring to accept the Montezuma Cup, I slipped into the crowd, motioning for Paulo to follow.

"Let's head backstage, old friend," I said. "I'd like to get a closer look at that so-called champion..."

---CLICK HERE FOR 'JOURNEY INTO MEXICO' PT. IV---

journey into mexico, pt. II

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CHAPTER II

I had rescued my new guide, Paulo, from a life of servitude to the vilest, most unreasonable cantina owner in all of Mexico. But out of the frying pan and into the fire; we had neither food nor money, and the locals were stubbornly opposed to accepting the finest of the arts, haiku, as legal tender. Even from the one true Haiku Master!

"What are we going to do?!?" I wailed, clawing at the dusty ground in a hunger-fueled madness. "Oh dear lord in heaven, I must eat! I must eat!!!"

"No worries, senór," Paulo said with a rakish grin. I then noticed he was carrying a chicken in each hand; one white, one brown and black. "We eat good tonight."

"Good god, man! Where did you find those?"

Paulo shrugged. "Down the road a bit. At my cousin Pepe's house. He raises chickens. And the cocks. I went and visited him while you were having your tantrum."

"Look, leave the dirty talk at home," I said. "And I wasn't having a tantrum -- I was balancing my 'qi.' Still, good thinking on getting two. I don't know that I've ever eaten a whole chicken before. This should be fun!"

Paulo blinked slowly. "No senór," he said. "Only one for eating. Other for making easy dinero."

"Come again?"

"Is no chicken," he said, raising the brown one aloft. "Is cock -- cockfight, si? Big money. Big fun!"

The Champ Prepares For Battle

Ahh, now we were on the same page...one that would catapult us to the highest peaks of Mexico's nefarious cockfighting underworld before it was turned!

---CLICK HERE FOR 'JOURNEY INTO MEXICO' PT. III---