The Road to Omaha (2011)
““Maybe our loco man, the great heneral, has taken a poof-powder, no?”
“Wa’ for?”
“He owes us dinero, yes?”
“I don’ think he’d do dat—I don’ wanna think he’d do it.”
“Neither do I, man, but he tol’ us to come back in an hour, no?”
“Maybe he dead. Maybe that even more loco gringo who yells all the time put him and the liddle old man away.”
“Then maybe we break the door down.”
“And make so much noise the gringo police come after us and we eat the lousy gringo food again for a long time? You make good plans, amigo, but chu got no mechanical abilities, y’know wad I mean to say?”
“What mecánico?”
“Hey, man, we promise each odder, we speak h’English, no?” replied Desi-Two, removing a small, many-bladed contraption from his pocket, a penknife-type instrument that defied description. “So better we can ‘h’assimilate,’ waddever that means.” The jump-starter of Chevrolet automobiles approached the door, briefly glancing up and down the deserted corridor.
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