Q's Love Affair with Ernest or The Tijuana Birthday Bonanza - Part 2

Q appeared hesitant at first and I must admit that seeing Q in his “birthday suit” (and me in mine) wasn’t something I would have ever expected to behold in my lifetime. I searched for some semblance of reason as I heard the barmaid’s muffled voice talking to, what I could only assume was a host of sexy senoritas on the other side of the door. As if reading each other’s minds, we blurted out, “It’s our birthday!” at the top of our lungs before ripping off our clothes. Q struggled with his socks as he spun around in a circle attempting to unleash the damn thing from his ankle, while I emptied the last vestiges of the Dos Equis still clutched in my right hand.

I looked over at the naked glistening body of Q and I was thankful that my drunken stooper would not allow me to remember this come tomorrow. Q’s sock still dangled off the end of his foot as he reached his hand out and offered me some of the before mentioned “party dust.”

“Wanna fly?” he asked me. “No thanks,” I responded, “I’m already soaring!” as I lifted my bottle in tribute to Q’s partying ways. “Fair enough,” Q responded before bending over and grabbing his wrinkled up leopard print thong underwear and strapped it onto his head like a king’s crown.

It was at that moment that the barmaid returned to the room followed by two very professional looking women. It was unexpected that they both reminded me of my Uncle Carl and unfortunate that they brought a burro into the room with them. They barely had the time to say a single word before Q and I had bolted from the brothel. The faint sound of their celebratory mantra, “FIESTA!” still lingered in my ears.

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We ran as fast as humanly possible to our rental car. CyberD tried to slide across the hood ala Dukes of Hazzard but his sweaty skin stuck to it the moment contact was made. There was no time for me to laugh, though I wanted to really hard. CyberD gathered himself and continued to his side of the car. CyberD turned the key but nothing happened. “Come On!” I screamed. He kept trying but nothing was happening.

By this time the gaggle of people had gathered around us. The two women and the donkey were there as well as CyberD’s barmaid. They told us to get out of the car immediately. Once we were standing, they yelled for one of us to pleasure the donkey. I was in shock and CyberD was extremely toasted. I leaned over to him and said “dude they want you to insert one of your US citizen babies inside of the barmaid”. CyberD immediately took a step forward and yelled, “With pleasure!”

The enforcement officials pulled out their guns and led CyberD to the donkey. He looked at me frantically. I told him that I might have misunderstood and shrugged my shoulders.

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Either the frosty spirits were getting to me or the local militia was leading me away from the kind-hearted barmaid and over to the flea-infested donkey. I could hear Q yell over the crowd, “You’re so lucky, CyberD!” I began to struggle as I feared the worst, but it was to no avail. “You’re next!” I spewed back at him. This surely would have been the end for both of us but little did we know, Q’s court ordered electronic ankle bracelet went off the minute we crossed the border. I had forgotten about that stint Q spent in the pen and was reminded of the time he got that giant tattoo of Jesus on his back while bunking with a tattoo artist named Leopold.

The sound of the chopper came out of nowhere as a sleek black helicopter emerged over the tree line. Q and I both knew that Airwolf had been decommissioned from the military back in the late 80’s. What we didn’t know was that it had since been employed by the local fuzz for just such an occasion. As the bird touched down, it sent the locals scattering in all directions. Q and I ran towards our salvation with one more surprise. As the cockpit opened it was none other than Jan Michael Vincent and Ernest Borgnine at the helm! “My heroes!” Q screamed like a little school girl.

“Get in, boys,” Ernest barked, “We’re going home!” We both dive into the chopper and strap ourselves in as it takes flight, leaving the forlorn donkey behind. I am exhausted from the entire experience and I slump into my seat with relief. Just as I begin to drift off I hear Q blurt out in frustration.

“Damn! I forgot my Mangos!”