Ding Dong Ding Dong Dong Ding Ding Dong

CC answered the door as her version of a Spanish pool boy waited for her. His name was Arnold Palmer, no, not the golfer, just another kid whose parents hoped he would amount to more than a janitor.

“Why hello Ricky Martin.”

They were upset when he started working for the local preschool in just that position.

“Hola mi amor cuando ocho alameda de la pulgas un libre”

He didn’t know Spanish.

“Oh I love when you talk in your native tongue to me. It gets me so hot!”

Neither did CC.

“Oh you have no idea what I’ve been thinking about doing to you…Uno dos media los nachos bel grande una taco con queso”

Arnold, or as CC knew him, Carlos, continued to spit out gibberish while she ate it up.

“Mmm Carlos take me now!”

CC and Carlos met while he was on his lunch break and stopped by the local chicken hole. He told her it was fate they met, in reality it was because he was broke. She was just a fatass. They shared a bucket of wings and fucked that night.