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It was supposed to be a nice dinner. A nice moment for countries to come together and have a good time. Somehow, everyone was having a terrible day and they all managed to come to the table pissed as hell. The people who made it, that is. Most of the latinos countries had the common sense to stay at home.
But Martín, Manuel, Miguel, Julio, Gregorio and Blanca had nothing better to do and already paid for the table. They gonna do this shit, eat in peace aaaand it only took one barely bad-mouthed comment from Manuel as a match to start a fire.
“You talk so much shit for a country nobody knows a shit about,” said Martín with venom.
“The people that are worth it know about me,” Manuel replied, not really trying to start something. All he said was that Martín eats like a cow. Come on, that’s common knowledge.
“Oh please, people know more about the pepper than you” Martín bites back.
“Pfff…”Gregorio had to suppress a laugh at that.
“People use your name as a useless word in a sentence more than to refer to you, bitch” Martín continued, with a smirk.
“Martín, go to hell.” Manuel said, rolling his eyes. The blonde was clearly looking for a reaction. And why on earth would Manuel give food to that old, bad bleached dog.
There was silent after that. Gregorio looked at both of them, confused, and then he made a mistake: opened his danm mouth.
“Um, chile… anyways…”
That attracted the gaze of Manuel instantly. See, he could let it slide when it was Martin, but letting the Dominican play in his face? Not in this life.
“Greg, shut up. You were popular for five minutes and got an Argentinian sized head.” Manuel spat. “Get a fucking haircut first, and then you still can’t put my name in your mouth.”
“Better a “has been” than a “never was” like you, mamaguevo.” Gregorio said, getting aggressive from the get go for what he saw as a “underserved attack”. “And you can suck my Argentinian size head.”
“Yes, I can believe your dick is bigger than your brain.” Manuel replied with a cold smile.
“Ha!” Not by much.” Blanca mumbled, sizing Gregorio from head to toe.
“Haha! Not too spicy, Boricua!” Gregorio said, staring at her with a smirk. “You don’t wanna get your ass beat!”
“Enough!”Miguel exploded. “Holy fuck, can you guys act like you have some home-training just for a night?!”
While Miguel succeeded in attracting all the gazes, he didn’t succeed in being taken seriously.
“Um, chile… anyways.” This time it was Julio who talked. And of course, Manuel had to step in.
“Oh, so you got a dead wish.”
“Is that a threat, Manuela boy? Julio asked, looking ready to get up.
“Don’t bother. His brain as flat as his ass” Martín commented, crossing his arms.
“And the Nazism must have really rotted your brain,” Manuel said, not even looking at Martín.
At this point, it was an all out war. And Martin did kind of get pissed off by Manuel getting more annoyed by others than by him. What, wasn’t he enough to dwell over? Not even looking at him now when there were days he could barely keep his eyes away? Fucking hypocrite.
“Seriously guys, shut the fuck up!” Miguel tried in vain to whisper that. “I come here often; I don’t want to get kicked out because you all forgot your manners!”
“Miguel, don’t you have some hamsters to eat in silence?”Manuel asked, giving him the nastiest glare so far.
“Wait, he eats hamsters?” Blanca asked, looking at Miguel horrified. “Fucking gross bottom feeding ass bitch!”
Miguel opened his mouth to reply, but Julio was faster. Good, because the profanity he was about to say would put him on the news.
“That’s amazing Boricua, the way you can talk, even thought you have so much gringo dick stuffed in your mouth. Truly an impressive talent” Julio said, with admiration in his voice. “Do you also do tricks on it?”
Blanca looked at Julio like he had growth a second head.
“Why don’t you grown some inches and say that to my face?” she said, getting up from his chair.
“Why don’t you get off your high-heels and said that to mine, bitch!” Julio replied, also getting up.
“IS EVERYTHING OKAY HERE, SIRS?”
An elegant waiter, with a big smile and a tic in his left eye was now in front of them. It was then when they realized that hey, they were making a scene that a lot of people were watching.
“I’m good,” replied Julio, falling back into his chair.
“Beyond good,” Blanca said, doing the same.
“I’m actually in love with all of them,” Manuel said to the waiter. “A knife, please.”
“I don’t know this people,” Gregorio said with a serious tone. “The police please.”
“The check, please” Miguel asked with a sight.
“Fuck you, I want desert.” Blanca said, now looking at the waiter. “A piece of chocolate cake for everyone please. And… don’t bring knives. Only spoons, please.”
The waiter left and the table fell into silence, leaving everyone else at the restaurant to resume their own business.
“Okay, how about this…” Martín was the first to break the tension. “We kind of just… forget what we all said here, eat our desert and go home. If anyone ask, we had a great night and make them wish they had come to this shit.”
“Sounds good to me,” Manuel said, shrugging.
“Same.” Gregorio said.
“As long as we don’t hug it out,” Julio agreed.
“I’m not paying for those desserts I ordered, by the way,” Blanca warned.
“Don’t worry, we know you can’t,” Miguel replied, getting a glare from the girl.
“You know what? I insulted you without getting a reply. I take that roast,” Blanca decided.
“I appreciate that,” Miguel solemnly nodded.
When the waiter came back, they asked him to take a picture of them. They all smiled like they were actually happy with their life choices and got a beautiful picture. Next day, after posting it on their social media: the rest of the losers were lamenting about cancelling. It was obvious they all had a great time!
“Fuckers…” was all Manuel could mumble to himself. The cake was good, thou.