The Heisenberg uncertainty principle states that the more precisely an object’s momentum is measured, the less precisely its position can be predicted. That is to say that while you might be able to measure how fast and in which direction a particle is moving, it becomes difficult to predict exactly where the particle will be while it is doing it. Concerning fast-moving particles, many witnessed Mr. Ouija’s spectacular exit from Arroyo Grande without noticing the brief pause in momentum.
Some envied the young Ms. Cooper’s audacity, that she spun out in the parking lot near the southern edge of town and seemed to give them a chance to accept her invitation to dance. This spectacular gesture might have been a case of observational error, as the casual observer might have missed a change in drivers just under the stand of ponderosas in the park. Ashley enjoyed a longer-than-expected joyride around her hometown, but returning the car to Jalisco was the unfortunate responsibility of a young prospect beholden to Jesus Ramirez Aguilar, of only minor narcotraficante notoriety and sort of celebrated in song.
While it is true that the popular Narcocorrido “Hoy, Caga La Aguila” was written to honor El Chuy’s legendary generosity, it is also true that he paid the musician a significant amount of money to write and produce the song. Hoping that the euphemism would project majesty and a deep connection to the people of his pueblo whom he hoped to save, the song quickly became synonymous with a poor-quality methamphetamine product that was so deeply cut with baby laxatives that users were forced to do lines off of toilet paper dispensers in bathroom stalls. While Chuy pretended to enjoy the kitschy infamy in the dirt yards and drug dens of the American Southwest, he had secretly resolved to keep all future advertisements strictly word of mouth. The night that Ashley sang it to him in Bakersfield, he gave her the car. He was a little drunk at the time, and he just loved watching la rubia sing about the fertile eagle shit.
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Of more value than just what was under the hood, Mr. Ouija had a lot going for it in the glove compartment. The custom street racer was insured for a ludicrous amount of money, but the only way for El Chuy to get his hands on it was if someone less conspicuous reported it stolen. An occasional client of Ashley’s, he agreed to pay her a percentage of the settlement for the risk incurred as well as supply her with the fake identity; all she had to do was file the paperwork and contact his man in Arroyo Grande. Mr. Ouija was to be collected at a time and place arranged by Ashley at her convenience. That Ashley had taken a full six weeks longer than agreed to initiate the exchange was an unfortunate but forgivable sin. El Chuy was quite enamored with the elusive Little Miss Ashley. Unfortunately, Chuy’s man in Arroyo Grande had recently been “dealt with” and was not currently available. As such, the responsibility of returning the car the Bakersfield was tasked to a young prospect who had only recently begun to question his commitment to the organization.
Victor’s second cousin happened to be at home nursing a black eye and bruised ego when the call came through from Jalisco. Despite his abject terror at speaking to El Chuy directly, upon answering the call, he was given about five minutes to ready himself for a high-speed pursuit out of town, already in progress. While there were no direct threats made, it was strongly implied that failing to return the car to Bakersfield would disappoint El Chuy greatly, and Chuy had been disappointed too much recently.
Eschewing the general rule against using the product, the meat-faced stuntdriver fortified his adrenaline glands with about a teaspoon of uncut methamphetamines dissolved in half a glass of flat, lukewarm pineapple Fanta, because snorting, smoking, or injecting the product was how people got addicted, according to Victor. When Mr. Ouija finally peeled out for the highway, it was with an elaborately hungover but chemically augmented courier at the wheel and an entire entourage of legally nonexistent supercops in high pursuit.
