Flaming Taco Truck en Fuego Ch 1
When I conceived of the Flaming Taco Truck en Fuego comic strip, all I really wanted to do was to be an asshole. I mean, sure, I was motivated by the need to hold up a mirror to the injustices of the publishing industry. To shine a spotlight on the unfair bullshit that I honestly wouldn't get away with. To underscore how this issue is absolutely about race and class, despite what some whiny bitches will tell you about 'appropriation.'  But really? I just wanted to be an asshole. 
And I'm very good at being an asshole. 
Too good. In fact, other people loved the idea of Flaming Taco Truck en Fuego so much they said they'd read the actual book should it ever exist.  And that made me wonder...what kind of absurd fucking shit can I write about a perpetually flaming taco truck? The ideas began to flow.  Insane shit.  Really insane shit.  Hilarious shit. Basically an American Dirt type novel by way of Love, Joolz (except I know way more about Mexican culture).  Sad Immigrant Story by way of Crank.
Wait, no, maybe more like Crank 2: High Voltage.  That one's *much* crazier than the first one.
Anyway, now you know the thesis of this book. I plan to cause problems on purpose. 
Watch me be an asshole. 
{presenting the first chapter of...}


Chapter 1 - Becky and Maria

Maria parked her taco truck in her usual spot. It was that crunchy part of Panorama City that's just south enough to pass for Van Nuys address-wise, so you'll still look classy to your friends. The taco truck glowed as it stopped, not because of the headlights.  No.

The taco truck was glowing because it was on fire. 

Maria was a thin girl with wide, brown cinnamon eyes and long, cascading black hair, like licorice.  Her skin was the color of caramel and her feet tasted like corn chips.  Maria was lovely and delicious, by all accounts, but fortune didn't smile on Maria.

Maria's story in a land far away. She took a long, brutal ride on an inner tube across deserts, mountains, vicious jungles, and a few volcanos to land in sunny Los Angeles. There, she was very poor, cleaning fish guts for money.  She put together what she could to buy a taco truck so she could get some self-sufficienty.  The smell of the fish was so brutal, she couldn't stand it. Everything made her sad.

Did I mention she was poor? Because she was poor. And very sad.

Maria's taco truck was supposed to be her ticket to freedom, but instead, she became enslaved to a terrible rolling death trap that was always on fire.  And worse yet, to get the hipster crowd in Silverlake, she had to start making fish tacos, which meant more cleaning fish. 

Ay caramba!

Maria began to set up shop, when she slipped into a day dream.  She dreamed that her taco truck was in better shape. That she had a house instead of an apartment closet. Maybe a cat instead of the one-eyed betta fish that always gave her the stink eye. And perhaps...a nice white lady to buy her tacos.  

All Maria ever needed was a nice white lady. 

But not in a gay way. 

Okay, maybe a little gay. 

Maria proceeded to come back to reality cleaning yet more fish when she looked up to see a pale face staring back at her through the serving window.  

Becky was a pretty white girl. But not too pretty. She was the kind of pretty where your guy friends would tell you how beautiful this woman is, but they'd oversell you. 'She's so pretty', he would say, but when you actually met her, with her chunky blonde hair streaks, basic slight features and overdone mascara, you'd tell yourself "She ain't that pretty."

Maria  called to the sort-of-pretty white girl, "Hello. Welcome to the Spicy Tamale truck! What can I get you?" 

"Wow, you look so Mexican but you speak English so well!" Becky replied, completely unaware of how racist of a thing that is to say to anybody.

"Oh, thank you. I learned by watching American television!" Maria replied.  "I know all about your Bachelor show. It is very interesting and open minded that Americans would let one man date 25 women at the same time! They even had a bisexual love affair on Bachelor in Paradise, Season 5." 

"Shut up! I love the Bachelor! I watch it because I believe in love!" Becky shot back. 

"That's so nice we have things in common. I wish I could believe in love. But who could possibly love a poor Mexican girl like me, who keeps a one-eyed betta fish as a pet. Princess stories don't happen to me, but it's nice to dream. Did you want to order something?"

"That is the literally saddest thing I have ever heard in my life! Don't give up on love! Poor  can be happy sometimes too! Also, did you know your truck was on fire?" Becky said. 

"Ya tu sabe...but this truck was all I could afford. Sighhhhhhh," Maria listlessly responded.

(By the way, ya tu sabe means "you know this, meng!" Now you know things. Back to our story. )

Before Becky could respond, an El Camino low ride blazed from around the corner, its souped-up engine roaring with power. 

"VRRRRRRR!" said the engine.

The Low Rider had terrifying skulls painted on the hood with elaborately painted letters "El Escorpion!" A man stuck his head out of the window as he drove while brandishing a machine gun aimed at the sky. He fired off several rounds surging towards Becky and Maria.

"Maria Consuela Arroz con Pollo, I'm here to take your flaming taco truck!" the man shouted.

--end of chapter 1--

(Glad this project came up. I was running out of shit to talk about in my dollar stories.) 

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