Quico was silent for a long moment. Then, for the first time, he wasn’t bragging.

And everyone laughed—not at him, but with him. Because in that neighborhood, that was the best media content of all.

“And what about me?” growled Don Ramón, stepping out for his daily constitutional grumble.

Don Ramón, who had been bribed with a torta, stood slouched against the wall. “My only evil plan is to pay rent. Mwahaha. Now give me my sandwich.”

And so, the neighborhood’s first entertainment production began.

Quico put an arm around him—a rare, genuine gesture. “You weren’t in a movie, Chavo. You are the entertainment.”