Alright then I admit it. I didn’t go on any trip. I 
don’t know why. I guess I choked. I don’t like going to new places. But at work everybody was pressuring me.
“Luke you have all these vacation days.”
“Luke you better cash in on your vacation days.”
Like I’m committing this crime by not going somewhere. Also I’m just paranoid about it. About them getting together when I’m not around and plotting against me. But that I suppose is another story. Anyways I go down to the bus station with my suitcase. I made it that far. And I take a seat right across from the ticket window. Basically I’m halfway on vacation. I’m just trying to decide where it is exactly I’m gonna go to.
And then this ridiculous man sits down next to me. He ruined it. It’s his fault. He said his name was Carlos. Carlos Manipuloso. Yeah it sounded suspicious to me too. But he was sitting there looking defeated. First he lets out this big sigh. Hugggggghhhhh! And then another big sigh. HUGGGGGGGGHHHHH! Like he is trying to telegraph his defeat all the way up to Heaven. Then he just starts weeping. Uncontrollable weeping and he is clutching this framed photograph. Oh it was one of those pictures that comes with the frame. But that was all part of the manipulation. A brilliant scheme. And boy how I fell for it. You know about my weakness for Hispanic people. Not that he really looked Hispanic. But still.
And so Carlos tells me how the woman in the picture is his wife. How she is being held hostage in this house in town, but he can’t call the cops cause of course they are in on it. So he’s got this scheme that I could play a pizza delivery man. The Drug Lords will open the door for some pizza guy just not for him. So after I distract the drug lords, Carlos goes in and rescues his wife. Some scheme, right?
We get the pizza outfit together and Carlos and I drive to the house. I ring the doorbell.
“Who the fuck are you?” asks one of em.
“I brought a pizza” I say, holding up the box with an inviting smile. He narrows his eyes at me, trying to maintain the tough-guy exterior, but I have this sense he is starting to crack.
They invite me into what is essentially the safe house. All of these gangsters are collapsed in a living room with shotguns, handguns, and semi-automatic weapons. The Boss is sprawled on the sofa catatonically watching reruns of “I Dream of Jeannie.” Strangely he does resemble Larry Hagman if Larry Hagman was a Columbian Drug Lord.
“Did Carlos send you?” he asks.
But I play dumb. “That’s twelve bucks for the pizza, not including tip…”
I notice the woman sitting next to the Drug Lord. She doesn’t look anything like the woman in the framed photograph. Where the hell are you Carlos?
“You seem pretty tough, just barging in here and disarming all of us,” observes the Bossman.
“You can be the king of this whole operation, but its not instantaneous. There will be training. You’ll have to learn to look and act like a gangster.”
“You guys don’t look or act like gangsters.”
The Boss just nods his head bitterly. I sense the others breaking ranks. The room feels ready to blow. I move towards the door.
“Enjoy your pizza guys. Its on me.”
Outside Carlos was still sitting with the motor idling. I didn’t look him in the eye.
