My friend the Chef

In the hood, washei, where I grew up there were so many characters that Hollywood would thrive as their stories are so varied, wistful, filled with tragedy and tales of truly heroic deeds; all done in the high seas separating Santo Domingo from Cabo Rojo in Puerto Rico. However there are also stories of guys that studied, graduated but still messed up. This one is about that.

He was a big guy with a big mouth and big aspirations. He bragged, boasted and behaved like a royal ass. But he was one of us, the chef, and as such was accorded fair treatment. Of course there were times that he would butt heads with some of the other fellas who sometimes just got tired of his antics. Overall, he was a good guy we all believed. But there was more to the big guy. You see we all believed him when he said that he had graduated from the CIA but what no one could ever imagine was that the Chef was indeed a graduate of the C.I.A. and had been on deep assignment for more than we could ever know. It was somewhat like the guy from the Gong Show, Chuck Barris; C.I.A. hit-man.
Listen there was this other guy, Marino, who hung around over 5 years until his C.I. was revealed in a cop shooting. Marino took the stand to point at Jose; that’s when we learned that cocksucker was a chivato, paid snitch.
As to the Chef ailments too great beset his ravaged body and now he poses no threat as his vigor, bombast and self-aggrandizement seems more 45 than anything else.

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