j. l. navarro

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The car was a lowriding gem; a luminous green, polished to a high brilliance.  The chrome wheels were firme, glittering in the light of the noonday sun.  Not a finer car had seen the streets of this L.A. 'hood since Albert the Pimp was hauled off to prison for beating one of his fillies to death. 

There were two funny looking vatos sitting on the diamond tuck black upholstery, both wearing Navy blue beanies pulled over their ears.  No one had ever seen them before.  Their T-shirts were whiter than white; their skin was a smooth auburn color, and their complexions were unnaturally flawless, stretched over fine honed features that begged to be kissed.  They wore pink tinted sunglasses and slowly chewed chicleChisme spread quickly that they were gangbanging lesbians in disguise looking for horny cholas to pick up and ball. 
 
Bruno the Goon swaggered up to their short wearing his stingy brim tongo and said, "Where you from, ese?"
 
The driver calmly glanced at him.  "Away from here," he said.  "My name is Somba and this is my homie, Mikako-es."
 
"What you dudes want?" said Bruno the Goon, flashing a lot of bad attitude toward the vatos in the car.   Ruby La Chica, his hina, stood next to him, descalza, showing fine pierna.
 
"Me and Mikako-es want to boogie, ese, party hardy, rumble our pete.  Y que?"
 
"You want our hinas to boogie with you, our hinas to rumble your pete?"
 
"Simon que si," said Somba from behind his chromed, chain-link steering wheel.  "You can come too, loco, if you like.  We have plenty of room in our ranfla to boogie and rumble our pete."
 
"I want to kick your sissy ass, what you think of that, puto vato from no where around here?" said Bruno the Goon, feeling muy macho because his guns were bigger than the strangers who really had no biceps to brag about.
 
Somba stared deep into Bruno the Goon's foggy brown eyes until the big vato fell to the asphalt like 75 kilos of yesca, his eyelids fluttering like a silent screen diva inviting men with big vergas to ravage her 'nocha.
 
The vatos and hinas watched in silence amazed that Bruno the Goon was out cold on the street, twitching and shaking, sunk in defeat. No vato or hina went to see what might be wrong with the big loudmouth cholo.  They just watched him shake and twitch and flutter his lashes like a wild bitch whore trying to act coy.
 
"What did you do to my ruco?" said Ruby, alarmed at seeing her man down on the ground.
 
"Not to worry.  He's only taking a nap, fine hina," said Somba, scanning her rack with a sly gleam in his eye.
 
"He's shivering like a vato who slammed some bad chiva," said Ruby La Chica.
 
"Come party with us," said Somba. "Mikako-es and me will show you our 'hood while we cruise and rumble our pete.  Que va."
 
"Q-vo," said Ruby La Chica, stepping over her ruco, and opened the ranfla's green door and stepped in.  "Let's ride!"
 
So the vatos and hinas climbed into the fine lowriding short, all fifteen of them, and they all took a chair and kicked back, popped beer cans and lit skunk smelling reefer as the dazzling jade car rose in the air, quickly changing and shifting its shape, then shot straight to the sky like a fast whirling green pie, and was gone.































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