Eran las 8:30 de una mañana cualquiera.

Eran las 8:30 de una mañana cualquiera. Estábamos en clase y la tranquilidad de la noche había terminado. Los niños gritaban, se empujaban y maldecían su suerte.

La Bamba

The what?! I looked around, at the world that had all of a sudden gone insane. I realised slowly that I had been somehow transported to a parallel universe where Mexico had

invaded Canada. I ordered a maple-flavored burrito at Taco Bell. America had become Neuvo Cuba and had excellent mojitos. For some reason, cloaks were all the rage. I tried to fit

in, so I bought me a shiny yellow one. The shop attendant had assured me that it 'is kvite the rage zese days'. It was if you liked pale young men following you around all night. I

was beginning to feel very self-conscious about my cosmetic neck lengthener, especially when a slew of dumpy tweens caught me rounding the alleyway behind a WMPPTF branch office.

I thought maybe if I scowled & stuck my neck out at them like a loon they'd leave me alone. But cocking my neck back & forth caused my neck lengthener to tighten. The mean tweens

stepped menacingly toward me. Panicking I began singing "the wheels on the bus". The song was irresistible to them and immediately they all began singing along with me forgetting t

heir heinous crimes & violent past. We got on the bus & sang the song all the way to the penitentiary gates. I was relieved I didn't go with my first impulse to sing "Jailbreak".