Hemos Oído las Calabazas a Medianoche. Cisco&Miño contra el Arcaísmo Yerto de las Marionetas Escuerzas.

 



En el barrio portuario de North Fork, los emblemas de la Anglogalician Cup retornan como barriles de cerveza. En sus mugrientas calles apenas iluminadas por reflejos de peltre, ni sale nunca el sol ni echas en falta una taberna. Citamos a los hombres de moda de la Anglogalician Cup en el mítico The Feckless Fucker, porque por algún sitio hay que empezar y porque el landlord es amiguete. Mientras esperamos, L.B.Q y servidor matamos el tiempo contando manchas de sangre donde anoche apuñalaron a Boris Orto con un paraguas.

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