Volume 02, Story 5
The morning after the Emporium raid, Chino’s apartment smells like victory and weed. Chino sits at one end of the couch, Homeboy at the other, Mary Jane stretched between them with her legs across Homeboy’s lap, and Sarah Yazzie stumbles out of the bedroom in one of Chino’s shirts with no memory of anything. “What the fuck happened?” “What time is it?” “How the fuck did I end up here?” Homeboy hands her the joint: “Órale. Hit this and we’ll answer all of your questions.” Then he grins. “So how’d you end up as a sex slave, eh?” Mary Jane smacks him. The recap lands hard: Chino and Homeboy rescued Sarah from Mr. Bitches’ Emporium of Sex, and Sarah remembers none of it. Chino’s verdict is pure Chino: “Check it, we’re gonna have to find that Papa Shango lookin’ vato and ask him all these questions.” Homeboy wants his pliers and his blow torch.
The Gremlin dies mid-U-turn, as is tradition, and Homeboy spots a tall figure on the sidewalk. “Uncle Hank?!” The man turns, breaks into a huge grin: “Fuck me stupid! Homeboy! You fucking Devil Dog!” Daps and embraces all around. Uncle Hank is a Green Beret from the “days of desmadre,” an old brother-in-arms from before the great misfortune nobody will discuss. His caravan looks like a van rebuilt by a wandering gypsy, and when Chino asks if that’s what it is, Hank just says, “It’s home.” Sarah stares. She swears she’s seen him before, “like in a dream. Except his face looked like a skull.”
At Uncle Rob’s mansion, dozens of Mexicans move crates with military precision while Killian lounges on the stairs: “They’ve been at it all night since they got back from Mr. Bitches.” Uncle Rob’s explanation is pure Uncle Rob: “No one. I’m just preparing for the worst-case scenario.” Sarah objects to being called “a piece of ass,” and Uncle Rob’s apology comes with a maraca-shake of his meds bottle and the addendum that she has “some really great tits too.” Killian gets no sympathy either: “You’re fucking immortal, quit your fucking bitching.” Chino asks to borrow some Mexicans for a covert op against Mr. Bitches. Uncle Rob agrees, with one condition: “When you do come up with a plan… I want in.”
The caravan is bigger inside than outside. “How’s it so big in here?” “Magic.” Uncle Hank flatly refuses to help: Mr. Bitches pays him thousands, more than his retirement, and he’s not cutting off a lucrative income stream. “That would be like asking me to cut my balls off. Not gonna happen.” But Homeboy spots the crate stenciled CINDERELLA, and Hank admits it holds Mr. Bitches’s next shipment: magic mushrooms of his own design. “That’s a need-to-know.”
The infiltration is pure theater. Killian plays “Connor MacLeod,” a Victorian gentleman with a dragon-headed cane, escorting Mary Jane and a newly redheaded Sarah in matching mini dresses and fur jackets, while Chino and Homeboy pose as his security in dark suits. Mr. Bitches watches the monitors: “Oh goody.” Inside, the Hostess greets Killian with “How may we pleasure you?” and Killian deadpans, “That’s a very loaded question.” Homeboy’s diversion is a masterpiece of crude: he needs the bathroom for “a massive shit,” measures the imaginary log like a fisherman, and bolts for the Cinema hallway while Chino claims he has to “help him hold it.” Past the AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY door, lockpicked with casual flair, a stairwell drops into a jungle chamber lined with glowing pods.
A contamination-suited figure enters carrying a tray of violet and electric-blue mushrooms. Homeboy tackles it into a rear naked choke, unmasks the figure, and finds the Hostess underneath. “It’s for them,” she whispers, pointing at the pods. “They’re the originals.” Chino shows her Sarah’s photo. She nods, leads him to one pod, and warns that opening it will “kill all the copies.” Inside, suspended in amber soup, is Sarah, naked and glowing. “Oh… hey… I’ve been dreaming about you.” The alarm shrieks. The Hostess sprints. Homeboy starts ripping pods open by the vine, and when armed men burst in, they explode into clouds of bluish-purple goop. “Oh man! That was fucking cool!”
The liberated crowd stumbles out, blinking: “Where are we?” “Are you like Navy SEALs?” Homeboy grins: “Nah, homie. Fucking better. We’re Chino and Homeboy. Now let’s go, fool.”
In the Hub, Mr. Bitches stands goop-drenched with a gun to Killian’s head: “What have you fucking done?!” “What we do best, ese.” “Desmadre.” A slap-boxing pile erupts, Mary Jane karate-chops the gun away and fires into the ceiling: “Don’t fucking move.” Mr. Bitches dares her: “Go ahead, sweetheart. Kill me.” Then Killian stirs: “Ouch… Anyone have an aspirin? I have a massive headache.” Uncle Hank walks in carrying another CINDERELLA crate: “What the fuck is going on here?” Homeboy strips the gun’s magazine, hands back the empty piece, and the whole crew walks out without looking back. Mr. Bitches begs Hank: “Help me.” Hank looks at the wreckage. “I think I’ve helped enough. See ya around.” Alone, Mr. Bitches raises the empty gun to his head, makes mouth sounds, collapses backward, and cackles into the empty Hub: “Chino and Homeboy! Chino and Homeboy! Chino and Homeboy!”
The epilogue is robes, towels, and tea at Chino’s apartment. Chino awards Killian the Chino and Homeboy Medal of Honor with full mock ceremony. Uncle Hank, still in his Papa Shango regalia, takes the joint and thanks them for showing him the light again. ""Yeah… now puff puff pass, Uncle Hank,” Homeboy adds. “Quit bogarting the joint, homie.""
Featuring Chino, Homeboy, Sarah Yazzie, Mary Jane, Uncle Hank, Uncle Rob, Killian, Mr. Bitches, Hostess, Naked Pod People.
Read the full story in The Adventures of Chino & Homeboy, Volume 02