Juan Diego Tells his Story
- 17th, July. Outside of Devner, Wyoming.
In a rare interview with the press, Juan Diego a la Media Noche (pictured above in a picture taken after the terrible campfire accident) told reporters about his hair-rasing adventures while hunting and killing the elusive El Macho.
"Well, it all started on New Years Eve, in the summer of '71. I was tracking this goat, and...wait...damn. Okay, here it is...
"So, we were walking through the jungle , just at the foot of the Rockies, when my Shepra porter, K'halumberger with Cheese, discovered a little withered dead body in a dumpster, a classic calling sign of the El Macho. On a hunch, we ignored the calling card, and pushed further into the jungle. By July 11th, it was looking pretty grim."
At this point, one reporter shouted out, "But you killed the animal on the 10th, didn't you?!?" He was drug outside and beaten.
"Ahem...hack...as I was saying, Mac and I began tunneling from hut 12. Jimbo-Bob, we called it...oh, damn...
"But, ah, yes. The El Macho...ah! Here we are...so, it was looking bleak. But, in the wee hours of the morning, before the sun began to rise in the east, we stepped out of the jungle and onto the so-called 'suburbs' of upstate Montana. And there it was. A buck El Macho, standing right next to a Limestoney Tree. I acted quickly. I pulled out my ten foot lead pipe, and tried to slap it upside the El Macho's dome. Unfortunately, a ten foot pipe of any material is unwieldy, so I failed. But then I used my Rocket-Propelled Grenade, and blasted a hole in the side of the big bastard. I had another shot ready, but I didn't need it. My porter took the now-famous picture of me towering over the corpse of the El Macho."
The floor was then opened for questions, but because most of the audience of reporters had either left, fallen asleep, or commited suicide during the outragous tale, I was the only one left. I quickly fled when Juan Diego pointed his dangling intestines my way.
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