Rest Stop
As their first day on the trail dragged into late afternoon, the goats showed signs of weariness and Chancho struggled with disappointment. His harvester had run out of gas, forcing them to abandon it. He patted his horse, Sister Espanoza. She also seemed moody about hauling the m*******a wagon that had been pulled by El Chupacabra for the first leg of the journey. “At least you won’t run out of methane,” Chancho said. On cue the horse cut loose a flappy fart. “¡Excelente!” It was a good joke and brightened their mood. His harvester had liberated a field’s worth of cáñamo from the earth before the ignorant rinche could stop them, and the harvester known as El Chupacabra would remain where they’d left it until he could return. Soon the rinche and the ranchers would leave them alone, and he
- Writer
