“El Teatro de Gaspacho”
“El Teatro de Gaspacho”
By Omar Francisco Medina
A day in the life of Gaspacho Patricio Ventanilla would be soon forgotten but on this 13th Day of March year of our Lord 1637 I will make my mark in history and in the minds of many especially the green eyed princess of Spain Catalina De Los Angeles Magana. The woman who holds my heart and will bear me more children than the Rooster of Madrid. I am sure you have heard tell of the tale. If you have not I will elaborate:
It goes like this, a farmer goes to his neighbor the Rooster breeder and says, “I need a good rooster stud that can cover all my chickens.”
“How many do you have?” asks the neighbor.
“180 Spanish hens all elegant and with robust legs and thighs. An enormous flock of beautiful hens.” The farmer responds.
The breeder grabs a French rooster, removes it from a wood cage. Its crest raised, blue eyes, plumage precious and silky. “Take this, this is Philippe de Cock, he does not fail.”
The farmer arrives at the coop and the rooster leaves running, hunts the first chicken, throws it to the ground to breed. He gets a second wind and another chicken and does his business as he did with the first one. Throws it ground and breeds. A little while after he remains motion less and immobile.
The farmer says, “That piece of shit of rooster you sold me! Two chickens is all that took to almost kill him,” he motions with two fingers out stretched, “ -and he is no longer able to breed!”
The breeder goes to a copper cage he presents an imposing Japanese rooster with the crest in Mohawk, eyes gray like marble. “This is Nico one of the greatest roosters of all Asia. Test his stamina!”
The farmer lets him loose in chicken coop and the rooster leaps in desperation squinting and studying all the hens- he suddenly leaps with a back flip to the first chicken. In an instant he does a roundhouse kick to the second and begins to breed again. He chops in the air and tackles the third hen and instead of breeding with her he begins to do the infamous number 69. The farmer is awed at this spectacle of acrobatics and rare breeding tactics. In an instant the rooster has a heart attack he falls dead in the middle of the coop. The angry farmer grabs the rooster by the leg and carries him to the breeder. “This it is the second rooster that you sell me and FAILS!”
Then the breeder goes to a stainless steel cage and pulls a Spanish rooster. He removes it. The rooster is thin , bald, big ears and two odd front teeth. “This the famous Rooster of Madrid. Alas, I cannot sell this one to you but I will let you borrow my prized rooster. Please take heed this rooster is a true stud do not allow your eyes off him and return him to this steel cage immediately after the breeding.
The farmer looses the exotic bird in the coop, the rooster leaves running and gallantly breeds with all the hens, all 180 chickens. He copulates with each one and with a distinct position. Then- he does a short victory dance and hits a second turn with his harem and is breeding vigorously with them all again. Suddenly he leaves running and forces himself on the farmer’s pig. The farmer grabs its neck as the rooster continues to gyrate and thrust and puts him in a small wooden cage. “What a phenomenal rooster!” he exclaims.
The following day the farmer notices the rooster was loose. He was singing in the early morning and everything that had feathers was ravished by the rooster. He dashes running from animal to animal and is breeding with the goat, to the dog, the cat, the cow and the other fine animals. The farmer is astonished and finally catches him, palms the rooster by the bottom of his bosom and strikes him twice. He puts him in a wire cage. “You crazy rooster! If you rape my farm again I will certainly kill you!”
The following day the farmer finds the cage disarmed and in the poultry coop all the chickens are on their backs with the legs up, the cow and the pig with their bottoms red , the dog with the butt enlarged, the goat is crying and asking for the rooster…the farmer yells “Noooooooooo! He escaped-- the breeder will kill me!” He mounts his horse and leaves in his search for the stud. Following the trail of violated animals left by the Rooster of Madrid he observes goats with bow-legged walk, chipmunk with twitching bottoms and a deer with hemorrhoids. Suddenly-far away he spots to the stud sprawled in the soil, and some huge black crows waiting for him to exhale. While the crows expect a certain death the farmer yells, “ Noooooooo he can’t die this wretched rooster will be the end of me!”
-in the middle of his lament…the farmer swears to this day he heard the rooster speak to him subliminally with one eye open and a his two gleaming gaped teeth he said, “SSSSShhhhh… be quiet you stupid farmer! You are going to frighten the dark exotic ladies!”
The Rooster had many chicks and I plan to do the same with my beloved, she just doesn’t know it yet. I have made up my mind and will set the right things right and the wrong things wrong I will bring them to light like my hero Galileo. Even under insurmountable evidence of rubbish, policy and ignorance I will voice the truth and set the right things right and the wrong things wrong! Mark my words history will vindicate him and me. The buffoons will turn in their graves. We are revolutionary breed with this knowledge: That improvisation is key to victory, even when the odds are stacked against you.
See a few weeks ago a former confidant and friend a certain Miguel Acosta de Luna. Secretly began a plan to steal the dreams and hopes, of this now hopeless romantic, by using every devious trick in the book of thieves and liars and scoundrels. Miguel beguiled me and used my eternal plan to finally get Cata to notice me. He stole my ideas, my charm and my dreams. Now he sits high and mighty in the side of my beloved Cata. Her beautiful eyes and her attention with lips of rose pedals are currently under the spell of the evil wizard Miguel. Little does she know that a devil lives inside that cold heart.
He borrowed my only copy of Don Quixote and wielded his fake charm by reading to her in his borrowed character from me and my the book. That my friend was my ingenious idea. A woman of intelligence and character as in the likes of Cata would, I knew for sure, enjoy the company of a smart gentleman. This fake proved my theory right. He stole my idea. I failed to present my plan for love to Cata because this imposter stole my book and my dreams. I will set the right things right and the wrong things as wrong.
As I stroll the avenida I see another one of my many enemies. A self realized man like myself seems to draw the attention of brute Neanderthals. Somehow I believe they are intimated by a man of such intelligence like me. It is necessary for them to overpower me with brute strength and humiliate me because if we were to battle for wits, chess or topics on politics and books they would definitely loose. As the case may be I am not at all half the physical man that these gorillas are but I am, by far, more read than any one of these idiots.
The dreaded headlock is a guise used once too many times. I usually let them have a little bit of fun and then pretend I am dead, like the Rooster of Madrid before they release me and run away. On this particular day they so happened to rub a finger full smelly bottom jelly in my nose. No worries I will wash at the Spanish Pond and proceed to the theater where my notoriety will begin. The word will get around and my name will be feared. I will set the right things right and the wrong things as wrong.
In the theater is a local event sponsored by our school and our literature teacher Mr. Moses Macareno. He tells me I will achieve great works in literature. I was originally cast by the the wonderful teacher. But alas my plan to kiss Cata in the play failed when she refused to play the character with no one else but Miguel. He had used his fake charm to convince her to change my casting role and to use her father a provincial governor to make Mr. Macareno change the performance in this role to himself. Mr. Macareno was aware of my circumstance and would be helping me get my revenge. We timed the rescue perfectly.
As I wash my face in the pond, the plan is still in place. I give myself enough time to reach the play in time and make my grand entrance and speech. I will vindicate myself in front of the governor his wife and the visiting statesman from the capitol. I will make an impression that knights only dreamed of. I will set the right things right and the wrong things as wrong. I will use the sword of words and eloquence to jab and stab at the heart of my enemy Miguel and win the fabled crown of Cata. I am shadow sparring! In the meantime more brutes arrive. I planned for this by the way, my head is bobbing in and out of the pond at the hands of another Gorilla attack. it seems my sparring attarcted the wrong attention. As water enters my nostrils, eyes and ears I hear the faint sound of gorillas laughing . I am smiling eloquently because soon all this brutality will stop. My name will be feared and respected. After a tussle in the dirt I am left muddy and for dead. I open my eye like the Rooster of Madrid and the ruffians are gone once again.
As I reach the theater there is still a crowd of pipe smokers in the outside. They drink chocolate and sangria. They are dressed in clothes of royalty. I am half wet and full witted. I advance to give my moneda to the doorman. He smirks at me, “You cannot come in that way! All wet and dirty.”
“Listen, I am paying because I know that you cannot let anyone in without payment. The back door is locked and the play will commence in about 2 minutes. Now, you can either let me in and allow me to play the part of the beggar or I will be forced to tell the governor- that Scene two in Act three was a direct failure due to the horse faced doorman that did not let one of the theater participants in. Yes, I am late but I am here. Now move away kind sir!” I motion him to step aside.
With a whisk he lifts the veil and allows me to pass before the rest of the patrons. The hallway smells like fresh roses. I am receiving glances from the elite of our bottom kissing socialites and politicians. The business men stand in the hall way laughing and talking about money this and money that. I never understood these men, how they can accessories and yet there are at least fifteen beggars in the same block that they live in. The ladies move away from me in fear I might smear their pretty dresses with mud on my pants that looks like shit.
As I make my way to the theater the first play is already in place. The play to warm the crowd and make way for the Big Play. This first play is the same play that our class is in. I walk in and remain in the shadows.
Miguel Speaks, he reads from notes attached to a book he is supposed to be holding- because the idiot cannot memorize a single line, “My dearest love and flower…” his voice and delivery are weak to say the least. No match for Cata’s talent and beauty. He faces Cata and kneels, “I have fought countless battles, traveled the wilderness of Africa and the deserts of Lebanon to finally see your gleaming face. I know ask you with all I am and ever was to please marry me…answer me now here in front of this crowd. And if there is anyone that must protest please speak now or forever hold your peace…”
That is my cue. I swallow my heart and stand there dripping wet with mud cakes in my bottoms due to the most recent of gorilla beatings, looking like I shit myself, I call out, with a voice that demands respect! “You Sir are a fake! You sir are a menace and a cunning liar!” I point at the imposter. The crowd turns and does not know what to make of me. Just as planned. Am I part of the grand play or a crazy beggar? No one knows but I am at the center of the entire theater's attention and sometimes being the center of attention is all you need in theater life!
“Pacho?” Miguel let’s out with a kittens roar.
“Yes it is I Gaspacho! I will set the right things right and the wrong things as wrong. The real hero! What book is that you hold in your hands?” Miguel is confused and looks at the book. I give him no time to answer. “That’s right I bet you don’t even know how to read! My fair lady! I have some news for you! This is an imposter!” By his time I have made my way to the stage and the audience is trickling in to see what the fuss is about. She looks to the side curtain of the Spanish Theater and the magnificent teacher sulks his shoulders and signals her to proceed, he whispers…
“Impromptu…”
She truns to me and asks, “What in the world are you talking about? “ her eyes wonder and take in the wet and dirty clothes I am wearing.
“That is exactly what I am here to explain! See I am in love with the fairest of fairest. I had toggled with a plan to gain your favor and catch your eye. The plan was beautiful and only the Lord above could have come up with a better one; but being as things are he cannot force love or wills. I was to read the greatest novel ever written Don Quixote to you my beloved...” The crowd nodded in agreement. “but a certain thief and supposed friend stole my idea.” I turn my evil eye to Miguel who by know is flushing with fear. My dramatization is choice.
Finally, the brilliant and beautiful Catalina got it! She finally grasped the notion I was making. I could see it in her eyes. It is a beutiful sight! In her brilliant mind she proceeded, “and this imposter you speak of did he also steal the plan of the first kiss under the Sunday sun after Church Service with slices of fresh water melon?”
“That is correct my fair lady but a slight variation was made in the last minute because only I can make the succulent salad of cantaloupe, water melon and mint leaves. Giving the receiver of such a kiss a burst of passion fruit with a tiny hint of mint....mmmmm” she smiles.
“Well then my fair man- who is this imposter and let us bring him to light...Assuredly he will have an explanation to this these devastating events”
At that Miguel runs away like a little pig that had just gotten plugged by the Rooster of Madrid. I turn to the fair Catalina and in true artistic form I proceed, “My fair Princess of Espana," I take her hand, "it is I who traveled the far reaches of the earth, fought with brutes and gorillas and witnessed the death and destruction of many young noble intelligent kinsman by imposters and political buffoons. I am a weary warrior reeking with the stench of blood, sweat and tears. Take a look around there are many like us. To the honorable citizens of Spain they are to be fed, housed and be cared for. To the ignorant idiots they appear to be beggars and a nuisance. Does a battle warrior dress in royal garb or mud and filth? For his battles are witnessed in his scars and tethered raiment. So here I stand my lady not old enough to hold an office but old enough to confess my love, my life and to ask you for your hand….with a kiss.” I close my eyes and peek with one open. I can't afford to miss the finally.
She pauses. The audience, at their feet, stretching their necks to hear every word. The canopies open. The hallways are empty and even the horse faced door man is standing in the back with his eyes fixed on the stage. We have them!
Catalina grabbes my hand, she is crying. She witnessed some of the beating and humiliations I bore. She also knew I was talented in the theater but she never knew how bold my heart was and how convinced I was of her beauty. “My good man, I offer not only a kiss. But a lifelong commitment and adoration for being so noble. Noble like a knight and yet sweet like the honey of the bee, in a warm cup of tea.” With that she grabes like a maiden and whisks me in her lap and kisses me as the curtains draw to a close.
There was a standing ovation! The crowd rises and the curtains part she remains kissing me. I am in heaven with mud on my ass.
*first photo by anAuhtor/2008,
posted by Big O at
8:29 PM
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