Monday, July 03, 2006

Pablo el matamoscos

Once upon a time there was a terrible fly infestation within the walls of the quaint little pueblo known to the locals only as Los Arcos. It is in this pueblo in which our story begins. After years of struggles to overcome the tenacious beasts roaming the streets, the people of los arcos finally realized that if they were going to have any peace during thier albergue naps they were going to have to call in a professional. But where could they turn? What mighty worrior could overcome this ancient foe? Just when all hope seemed lost, a night in shining hiking clothes and a kickin backpack gallantly strode into town along with his loyal worshipers. Of what mighty worrior do I speak? Pablo el matamoscos, aka Paul the killer of the flies. Upon hearing the plight of the towns folk, Pablo took a little break from the events of the world cup which often dominate his attention and bagan his ferocious assault. The flies fled in fear, but none were quick enough to escape the deadly hands of the fly killer. I shall spare you the details, but you must no that none were spared, and death was intantanious. In the end, the people of Los Arcos prased Pablo el matamoscos, and his fellow pelegrinos slept in peace. And they all lived happily ever after.


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