Screwed 'screws', the price of my silence.

Uncle Sergio instead of getting angry, felt curious and attracted to my detailed account of what I had seen from each one of them...including my old man.






At the end of a long stretch of my story, I could see my uncle's face with a diverted and complicit smile... -And then? What price does your secret have?...-, asked the uncle between victim and negotiator... - I want it to be here... It's not hidden...-, I managed to tell him, trying to sound firm despite my nerves...-. - Good... If there's no other remedy... - responded the type resigned while giving a complicit glance to my Uncle Cacho to make him part of the pact and relax. - At last and at long last... someday the little guy will know how things are and better if he learns how things are done with us cachos...- he told his brother, encouraging him to keep going as if nothing.



- And what about everything you've seen? What else can I get for you, little guy?...- My uncle, half-drunk and loose, was asking me this as he poured beer... He wanted me to talk about the best strategy, which wasn't hard because the 27-year-old guy was a stupid mestizo from Salta with a cock that did honor to his nickname El Mácho