The radio crackles as the most recent episode of Lib_’s “Dog Training For Beginners” ended with a cheerful jingle.  Following an announcement about a pageant in some backwater hicksville the sound of an obviously fake Hispanic accent bursts out like candy from a well-thrashed pinata

Hola mis amigos.  Mucho gusto!

Welcome to El Cartel Import/Export Centre here in Detroit.  We have everything from Casa Colombia that you gringos love so much

You have a car?  We get you petrol

Tired of tea?  The finest batches of coffee straight to your door

Coke…haha…how you say…cheeksy…not that, the fuel

You have a pretty lady on the side?  What she love more than the sight of your tanned sexy body?  She love gold right?  We have gold, all the colours of gold from golden gold to shiny yellow gold.  Straight from our famed golden mines deep in the montains beneath the hidden laboratorios.

Straight from Colonel Zolo’s famed collection including El Corazon..the finest* emeralds.

Oh…and if you can think of anything else you need from our wonderful country then just ask.

Adios muchachos

In the real world The Colombian Cartel Import/Export Centre was little more than an office attached to a warehouse beside the docks.  Found in the warehouses out in Bricktown there was a little bit too much space but Ryman Pablo had insisted that it was a show of just how much influence he had in the land of the gringos.

The people in the office speak quickly in Spanish especially if they are talking about you.

The lady at the front desk of the office, Juanita, flicks through a small pile of paper and sorts them into orders for coffee (77%), gold (15%) and other stuff (8%).

A sign behind Juanita welcomes the stranger or regular visitor to the small and aloof office.  Also one with some guidance.

Sometimes, a customer might find some well wrapped parcels in amongst the goods.  These are special parcels for the staff, so if you could please leave them behind the front desk that is much appreciated.

*Finest being how you say...subjetivo...up to us...you might find better elsewhere.  Tell us where and we get them and sell them cheaper than you could get them.  No blood stains either

Angry_Goose flaps his wings, honks and waddle runs into the centre

HOOOONK, HONK HONK HONK!

*I am so pleased to see you great great great great great grandfatherMother!  have you finally been able to source those ferro alloys?

Angry_Goose pecks Ryman_Branson as a way of greeting

Ryman Pablo looked up.  Juanita was busy filing her nails while being fawned over by another customer.

"Ferroalloys?  Shhhh....first rule of ferroalloys is we don't talk about ferroalloys.  Have a look at this list."

Ryman Pablo slid a piece of paper over to Angry_Goose.

"Anything there take your fancy?"

The phone rang and Ryman Pablo picked up the receiver.

"Hola, El Cartel.  Si  We trabajamos for Smash.  Si y FranciscoGoya. He pinta las walls, mostly marron y black."

the Goose honks and flaps a bit while waddling around in a circle a bit

Goose pecks at the FeSiMg and honks secretively

(these are just the ones, and might I say what a fine institution this is, now, have you got anything i can hunt Grouse with?)

Ryman Pablo continued on the phone.

”Si. Una door roja?  FranciscoGoya specialises in puertas black. Contactalo for prices.  Good. Adios.”

He put the phone down and returned to the softly pecking Angry_Goose.

”Dos seconds...”

He opened a hatch behind him.

”Ernesto...nodulizador in packaging for ganso friendly...”

He turned back to Angry_Goose.

”Hunt for Grouse or hunt down Grouse?  Yo have armas for hunting and muchachos for hunting down.”

The Goose ponders this question, it was fair and he really should have considered it earlier

HOOONK FLAP PECK HONK HONK HOOOOOONK

(fuck it, i'll take one of each)

Ernesto arrived with a bag of FeSiMg and glanced down at Angry_Goose

"Nodulizador...senor?"

He looked at Ryman Pablo.

"Pensé que estabas bromeando sobre un puto ganso"

Ryman Pablo waved him away dismissively

"Si si si... ve y toma unas natillas, gordo, joder..."

and looked down at Angry_Goose.

"Do you want Ernesto and his sicarios to help you with the hunting down of Grouse?  I could put a little pistola in with your ferroalloy...you do with it what you do...

whispering beneath his breath

"...nada que ver conmigo"

Goose taps his beak although wants it known that it is for hunting Grouse, not hunting down grouse, fuck it, we'll go after pheasant instead

The goose taps his beak conspiritorially

'Honk!'

Ryman Pablo nodded his head.

"We live in a jumpy society.  A good traditional pastime like pheasant shooting, fox hunting or peasant beating is probably more socially acceptable."

The Goose nods sagely

honk, honkers honkety honk honk

'But where do you find a decent peasant these days?  they're not what they used to be'

Ryman Pablo came in to work on a sunny Wednesday, it had been a while since he had found the time to check in.  Angry_Goose had last made a request for a peasant and Ryman Pablo had neglected to sort that out.  The benefit of having a cartel is that it wasn't like Angry_Goose could go over to Peasants'R'Us and get a better price for a healthy male peasant.  El Cartel was always in the need of some expendable headcount so grabbing a peasant or two could work out handily.

He sat down and flicked through the classified ads in "Helping Hands - The Do's and Don'ts of Rearing Peasants" where peasants looking for a lifestyle change could advertise.

Ryman Pablo scored through Julio and Agnes.  He wasn't being handist or sexist but his work needed two hands and any woman could be a distraction.  He would put a call in later to see if Seamus and Cletus were still available.

The Goose picks up a copy of "Helping Hands - The Do's and Don'ts of Rearing Peasants" and takes interest in Agnes.   Being a Goose, a biped had not real attraction or distraction to him

'Honk, flap honk peck honk flap?'

(what's your best price on this one?)

Ryman Pablo surveyed his little enterprise...unscathed through the recent turmoil his regular customer had ended up toast...or maybe roast.  He placed a little jar of Colombia's finest in the corner with a crude copy of FrancescitoGoyita's tattoo depicting the gonads of @AngryGoose.  He sat doing a crossword waiting for some of his delivery drivers to return from the docks of wherever the hell the shipment was coming into.

The little bell above the door tinkled and a new customer came in.  He glanced up from thinking about seven across "Useless protrusion on Spanish men (5)"...the options were too numerous to rule out at the moment.  He did not recognise Grisella who was looking for something he had never heard of.  This was his cue to act simple...and acting was what Pablo Ryman did best, even better than impersonating Ryman Pablo.

"Que? Methyl benzoyloxy azabicyclo octane-2-carboxylate?  Un momento."

Ryman Pablo poked his head through the door.

"Juan...JUAN....que es methyl benzoyloxy azabicyclo octane-2-carboxylate?"

"Pablo...creo que es cocaina.  Los frikis del laboratorio pensaben gue eran tan inteligentes."

"Ahh ok.  Gracias."

He sat back down.

"De e a? Efe be i? Solo hacemos importaciones legitimas."

Ryman Pablo sat down.  If Grisella was serious she would know what to do.

Pablo_Ryman was so distraught at the loss of his friends he had forgotten Angry_Goose's full and proper name.  He put his head in his hands and stared back at his crossword...pezon was seven across which made five down, "Purplish shade of blue favoured by Spanish painters (5)" possibly azure.

the twins popped into the import/export centre as, being a family trait, they were on the search for the family addiction.  Ferro alloys!

'Ryman_Branson, my family spoke warmly of your incredibly luxurious moustache and your ability to source virtually anything, can i place an order for *looks around gingerly* the good stuff'

*Nadia makes a winky, eyebrows, nodding gesture*

'yeah, and can i get some boobs' Said Aidan, who, if you hadn't been following the twins adventures, was a bit of a dick.

Ryman Pablo was walking behind the desk, holding his coffee and scratching his chin, stumped with twenty one across "Held back for simplicity's sake (11)" when the doorbell tinkled again.

"The good stuff?  Es all good esse...I mean...senorita."

He raised his coffee cup...

"This es el good stuff senorita.  Grown on the slopes above Medellin, it comes with hints of coca, fuel oil and acetone.  Once you get used to the scratchiness on the back of the throat it tastes better than that Guatemalan pish I've seen served."

He glanced over at the Aiden half of AidanNadia...wondering why they weren't just called AidaNadiA...saying too many nnn's reminded Ryman Pablo of the sound of the bound and gagged members of the Cali Cartel he had in his basement once....all "nnnn nnnn nnnn" as he taunted them with cups of coffee.

"You want boobs?  We can sell you them by the handful..."

Ryman Pablo leaned over and whispered

"What does the existence of boobs prove?"

Ryman Pablo glanced up as Grisella left the office and shrugged.  The only people calling it methyl benzoyloxy azabicyclo octane-2-carboxylate must surely be the federales with a science degree. 

"Juan...JUAN!!...cómo llamamos cocaína ahora"

Juan came to the door

"Te refieres al azúcar glas."

"Si, al azúcar glas.  Gracias."

Ryman Pablo looked back at his crossword...seventeen down, "Total eclipse of the romanced stone (7)"...Ryman Pablo knew this one, corazón