We did a favor to this pocho at my job and helped him out for his own good?
So during the summers, I work as a part time custodian. The job is full of proud Mexicans and Mexican-Americans. Some cool Central Americans work there too. This summer we noticed a very weird employee. He was a Mexican, but every time someone talked to him, he had no idea what we said. He also drove a Honda Civic. During our first lunch, he took out his phone, listened to Justin Bieber, and brought food from Taco Bell. My coworkers and I knew at that moment that we spotted a pathetic pocho. We told our supervisors to talk to him in Spanish, and they did. The pocho had no idea what to do at work because our supervisors were proud Mexicans. He always got in trouble. We also talked mierda and laughed at him. After we clocked out last week, he couldn't hold it and ran away crying to his Honda Civic. Me and my Mexican-American coworkers knew that we had to help him. I got my bat, smashed his lights, and my Mexican-American friends invaded his car. They blasted some El Komander in his own car, and chugged real salsa at his mouth. We spit at his Taco Bell and threw his burritos and phone at the ground. We took him out of the g@y car and I hit him with my bat. The pocho was choking from the chile, and his face was red from the putiza I gave him. After that, I turned on my 4x4 Chevy Silverado with 22" chromed rims, ran over his phone, Taco Bell burritos, and g@y @ss Honda Civic. Nobody saw what happened, so I did a donut, and sped away bumping to Cuernito Armani by El Komander.
