Kid Kool is walking around downtown San Francisco, humming a tune to himself. He notices a restaurant, a cheap Mexican one, and he heads inside. The eatery is playing crappy, generic Mexican knockoffs of American songs. He smiles to himself, cockily, and he heads to the register to place his order.

KK then heads over to a table by the window, pulling a fancy pair of shades over his eyes, aqua-blue frames and red tinged lens. He scarfs down a few tortilla chips, dipping them in queso and washing them down with a glass of Mountain Dew. The walls are lined with faux plants and rip-off oil paintings.

KK: Alejandro? I'm sure a place like this feels just like home to a Spanish fly like yourself. But as for me, I am SO above this sort of thing. Steak, ribs, a nice grilled burger or two? That's more my style. Something REAL, for a real man such as myself. You pampered puto, the world you know, the future you're aiming for, is about to become null and void. Deal with it.

The waitress walks by and begins to speak, but KK cuts her off. "Girl, do you know how we get people's attention here in America? With money! And fact is, I should be paid to eat this crap. Anyhow, thanks for the rubbage you call a meal. Be gone, lolita!!"

The waitress heads off, while the Kid takes a few bites of his taco and smiles.

"Maybe this shit ain't so bad after all..."

|tbc|