Dispatches from The Mayan Empire

"There he goes. One of God's own prototypes. A high-powered mutant of some kind never even considered for mass production. Too weird to live, and too rare to die." - Hunter S. Thompson, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas + + + The day started like most others here in Nuevo Progreso; wake up, be angry with the alarm clock, pet Tessa, shut off or forget to and be angry with secondary alarm (I'm not a morning person, at all), "morning constitutional", wash face and brush teeth, pet Tessa, get dressed and ready for the day, pet Tessa, inform Tessa she is in charge of la casa until I return, lay out her duties for the day (hunt any vermin present, eat healthy, nap frequently, don't go too hard on the 'nip, generally be a good gato pequeño until I return), and leave to walk the arduous one quarter of a block from Carlito's Cafe to Vampiz. After arriving I retrieved my flyer (theirs are laminated and thus reusable), said my usual pleasantries...