the trumpets sounded in the mouth scalded sunny and dozens of young men dressed in Roman centurion botargas. At the back of the crowd, a troop brush head punctuated with a bearded man in white robes and slippers imported from San Mateo Atenco. Was Christ the Redeemer, the one that converts water to suck, live and in person for all Iztapalapa.
At the time of disclosure before the governor of the empire, still bloody and chained to the biblical character, as if it were some big boss of the Los Zetas drug cartel during his presentation at the Command Center of the Federal Police, the Jesus of Neza-Reth was cornered by the press and continuous clicking of the photographers crowded around to get the best plate of the detainee.
Guided by force of habit, I got to the ball whose center was the son of the creator himself, although all mother was still the hero of the movie dad to drive in the recorder in his mouth and see what he had to say the world since he was accused of sedition and conspiracy against the emperor Tiberius.
In response I received a bearded gesture with his eyes I said "No Mam" to be set aside by the guards and follow the procession. Just like in real life. Chá
!
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