AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hello dear fans, casual readers and pervs looking for semi-nude photos of Ashley Garmany. On your computer screen sits a three-part series of semi-short, semi-fiction and hopefully all-the-way funny story called "The Worst Smell Ever." I drunkenly wrote this in about 90 minutes—an eon in KC Time. I hope you enjoy the change from penis jokes to something else.

Part 1 of 3

Imagine this: you're a migrant worker weedwacking at a condo complex in a fairly nice neighborhood, enjoying your day. Maybe you're thinking of the beach, your family back home in Mexico, or the next soccer game on TV.

Then a crazed tattooed giant white man crashes through a door. He's covered in vomit, yet shirtless. Crying and trying to scream. Barefoot. Carrying what anybody could guess, might be a dirty bomb in what appears to be two brown-colored Safeway grocery bags.

You pull out a small knife. The life of a Mexican worker is never easy, but you never expectd to be attacked during the day at some condo. Even though you're holding a blade out, the crazy man looks at you with los ojos locos (the crazy eyes).

The white man wobbles to the dumpster, pops the lid open and slams this plastic grocery bag of questionable material into the metal bin. Then he howls and starts punching his own chest.

"What the fuckkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk?!?!?!" you hear. The curse trembles your body. Then the gringo approaches you, stepping on pinecones and even a broken glass. You hope, just hope, he's trying to go home, but no, he's approaching you.

"Cigarellos? Por favor? Tres si possible?" Who the fuck is this gringo, and why is he asking you for three cigarettes? How does he know Spanish? They never told you about this on TV, or anywhere. You pull out a pack and hold it out to him, wincing even though you're the one holding a weapon. He takes three Marlboros, your Bic lighter, sparks them all, puts $10 and the lighter in your hand.

He coughs after inhaling all three smokes at once, then leaves with a wheezed "Gracias amigo."

You look at the $10 and then the gringo who's already going into a building marked "No Smoking." You shake your head and consider moving somewhere safer.

But this is the end of the story, mi amigo. There's still the beginning…

Continue to Part 2 »

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