“Oh my god – could you do that anyway? I’m so sick of counting how many dirt marks their are on the ceiling” he pleaded out of desperation. “I guess as good as it can be after being shot” he replied slightly sarcastic before softening his tone “what happened to you?”.
“Mira muchacho, I do not sound as nice in Spanish as I do in english.” He said, clearly joking as his Spanish sounded as crisp and clear as the day is long. “Oh you know. Nothing serious. Almost crushed to death by a boulder. Broken ribs here and there, and my leg’s busted, but no biggy.”













