The spearing of Rio Grandé

Suarez crept or rather limped as silently as he could through the tangled undergrowth of river weeds and broken willow branches. Every so often he had to stop and hold his nose to try and stop the sickly fumes of a fruit based cocktail overwhelming him. Hearing voices he crouched down and looked through a small gap between two thorn bushes. Their branches scratched at his arms but Suarez stayed as quiet as a stalking Rio Grandean mountain goat. He sat and watched as a truly terrifying ritual took place before his disbelieving eyes. Suarez searched his mind for an idea to help him rescue his friends but no matter how hard he tried he could not see any way he could save them, if only Mirabella was here he thought she would know what to do. Then from above him came the sounds of snapping branches and shuffling feet, Suarez adjusted his body to try and see where the noise was coming from. At first all he saw was a pair of thick shaven legs and a bulge coming from a tight pink swimsuit, he craned his neck and then saw a pair of lifeless eyes and a thick mop of ash blonde hair at that instant a plan formed in his head. The plucky Uruguayan playmaker waited until the man in the swimsuit was close enough and then with one single deft movement took the driftwood crutch Mr Sempleton had fashioned for him in his right hand and struck the man as hard as he could in his willito. There was a yelp of pain but before the blonde monster had time to cry out the mercurial striker deftly struck him across the face rendering the blonde giant unconscious.

The man lay motionless on the floor in front of Suarez. Asking Santa Socrates for forgiveness for what he was about to do Suarez removed his own clothes and then tentatively started to undress the sleeping giant, he pulled the top part of the swimsuit down revealing a smooth chest with the tattoo of a hippopotamus by the man’s left nipple. Then with trepidation he pulled the suit down further where the bulge had been bales of cotton wool fell out of the Lycra leotard. With a shudder Suarez pulled the costume of the man’s thick legs and pulled it over his own.

He stood there for a moment in the tight fitting costume and thought about the teasing he would be subjected too if they ever got off the island but he knew that the life of Torado and his friends would be worth the humiliation.

Donned in the ridiculous outfit Suarez then gathered as many thin yellow willow branches as he could find and made himself a blonde wig then covered his flowing jet black with the yellow thatch which he balanced as best he could on the top of his head.

Don Blanco kept reaching inside the pocket of his cashmere suit looking for the ivory handle of his pistola, that was now somewhere resting on the riverbed, there was no way out now he thought.

The fat man in the pink suit and the hideous mask stepped forwards and eyed Mr Sempleton up and down pointed at his deerstalker and laughed.

“You are an Englishman are you not?”

Mr Sempleton’s eyes stared straight back but he said nothing.

“Answer me” roared the masked man

Still the English detective said nothing. This clearly enraged the hippopotamus masked monster who struck the Englishman across the face and dragged his long nails down the cheek of Mr Sempleton causing blood to trickle down. But still the detective kept his silence; he just gritted his teeth and thought about the article on surviving interrogation techniques that he had read in the previous issue of Spy kids magazine.

The man fuming turned around and marched back to his retinue of naked women. They two women linked their arms into his and he turned back to address his followers and the captives.

“We had one Rio Grandean, now we have 4 and one foolish Englishman. Tonight they will burn and as their flesh chars on the fire we will celebrate the moment that we sounded the death knell for the uncivilised game of football.

Soon my people the regal sport of rowing shall take its place at the altar to be worshipped by the world and the name of the order of the pink hippopotamus shall ring out around the earth.”

The man’s speech was all Don Blanco needed to confirm his long held suspicion that the entire island of Britain was populated by insane tea drinking idiots. If he was to die in this forsaken place he would die fighting for Rio Grandé.

Torado still weak from starvation felt his eyes slowly start to come back into focus as he surveyed the scene unfolding around him and it was then that he noticed that one of the pink leotarded soldiers appeared to be winking at him. This particular one looked even more ridiculous than his fellow pink swim suited wearing comrades. He had the most buffoonish blonde hair that looked as if a birds nest of blonde twigs had landed on his head.  He kept winking more and more feverishly at Torado. What did he want? “Oh my god” thought Torado maybe he wants to make me his sex slave suddenly death seemed a more attractive proposal.

Torado tried his best to ignore the amorous advances but the winking became more and more obvious. He started to notice odd things about his suitor he seemed far shorter than the other men and his frame had the elegance of a skilful footballer about it suddenly he recognized the face “Suarez” he mouthed silently the winks turned to a nods.

Gilberto and Gonzalo felt Torado nudge them and whisper “Suarez, Suarez”

“He is on the boat” replied Gonzalo

“No look Suarez he is here”

The two defenders followed the Mexican midfielder’s eyes until they saw a slight man in a pink leotard with a pile of yellow twigs on his head. Gilberto seeing the skin tight Lycra outfit had to stifle a laugh and wished he had bought a camera so he could have documented Suarez dressed in the swimsuit to show the rest of their team mates.

The masked master of the pink hippopotamus order had started to launch into another diatribe against the beautiful game of football.  Suarez looked around at his fellow leotard wearers their eyes were all staring directly ahead as if transfixed by their leader’s words. He spotted a large cauldron in the middle of the clearing full of an orangey pink liquid and floating tropical fruit, sickly sweet fumes rose from it engulfing the island. The man in the mask continued to address his audience Suarez didn’t  follow the words but when the fat man in the pink suit raided his hand in the air and roared “ladies and gentleman.” Suarez seized his chance and began his charge.

He ran toward the cauldron then with all his strength tipped the huge cast iron pot over sending the sticky cocktail of alcohol and fruit flooding out over the ground. Suarez plunged the wooden spear into to the ground tore of his impromptu wig of twigs and screamed out

“Viva Rio Grandé, aim for their willito’s boys.”

The fat pink hippopotamus spun around and shouted “get him; get him he is one of them.” Before losing his footing and slipping head first into a sticky pool of summer punch that had now spread over the whole clearing. The men in the pink leotards tried to give chase but kept sliding and tumbling over each other the women too their see through white gowns stained pink by the liquid that had now formed into a small lake where the clearing had been. It all looked like some kind of bizarre Roman orgy as pink leotards, white dresses and limbs lay entwined on the ground as they wrestled each other trying to get back to their feet. The few still standing pink swimsuit wearing guards charged towards the Rio Grandeans but were met by the iron fists and feet of Gilberto and Gonzalo.

Don Blanco threw his Panama hat high into the sky, so it span like a flying saucer “make for the “he shouted. Two of the blonde giants were just about to grab the drug lord when his hat came spinning back knocking them to the floor before coming to a rest on the Dons head.

Gilberto and Gonzalo ran towards the trees using their years of defensive experience and powerful shoulders to clear a path for Torado who followed behind them panting for breath still weak from his months of captivity. The bushes scratched and stuck their bony fingers out trying to grab them as they made for the edge of the island where the lock keeper and the harbourmaster, having heard the commotion had already untied the boat from its mooring and had the engine spluttering.

Mr Sempleton grabbed Suarez who was limping badly now having injured his bad leg again during his act of heroism, the pair struggled their way arm in arm into the undergrowth.

Don Blanco was still in the clearing on the ground his cashmere suit now stained orange as he grappled with several men at once in pink leotards.

Breathing heavily Gilberto, Gonzalo and Torado collapsed into the boat. They looked up to see Suarez and Mr Sempleton slowly limping their way towards the river bank and urged them on. They had almost reached the boat when a deafening sound filled the air

 “HALT YOU ANIMALS!!!”

Suarez and the English detective stopped dead then slowly turned around. Not twenty metres away was the man in the hippopotamus mask his fat legs planted firmly in the ground in his hand was one of the wooden oar shaped spears they watched as he flung it high into the air.

As if frozen to the spot the Englishman and the Uruguayan watched as the spear arrowed its way towards them.

From the boat Torado, Gilberto and Gonzalo looked on in horror as the spear span and whistled its way ever closer to the heart of Suarez and that of every Rio Grandean. Then from nowhere cam the hulking figure of Don Blanco, blood on his face and summer punch dripping from his tailored jacket. With an almighty cry he threw his body in front of Suarez, the spear stopped spinning and plunged into the reformed drug lord’s chest.

Torado let out a scream like a wounded animal “nooooooooooooooooooooooooooo”

Suarez fell to his knees, Mr Sempleton tore of his Harrison tweed jacket bent down over the Don and wrapped the ripped pieces of material around the wound desperately he tried to stop the blood that flowed out.

Don Blanco tried to wave him away “leave me you English fool.” He pulled the detective close “do not let our effort be in vain, get on that boat Santa Socrates leave this forsaken place, you must keep the spirit of Rio Grandé alive. I have done many dark deeds in my life; the footballing gods of olé football have given me this fate and I accept it willingly with the pride of being able to call myself a true Rio Grandean, now go!!”

Mr Sempleton ignored the Don’s words and the mass of onrushing leotarded warriors who were drawing ever closer and with a hitherto unseen strength threw Don Blanco’s wounded body over his shoulder, pulled Suarez to his feet and made for the fishing boat. He lifted the Dons body gently onto the boat and pushed the boat out into the water before diving into the river as a shower of spears flew towards him. The harbourmaster pushed the throttle down and Mr Sempleton gripped onto the side of the fishing boat his legs flailing about in the water as they sped away from the island under another barrage of wooden oar shaped spears.