I got up to get the drinks and motioned to the girl to follow. On the way to the kitchen, I whispered to her, "Get the gun."

While I was pouring the drinks, the girl started looking for the gun in the bottom cabinet drawer.

Just as she began to pull it out, I heard the all too familiar 'clomp, clomp, clomp' of the horse, as it raced into the kitchen.

Before the girl could turn and shoot the horse was on her. It raised its front end and brought its front legs down on her back.

The horse trampled the girl to death within seconds. Then, he turned to me and said; "Now we've got a problem...Wil-bur!"

I woke up, with a start, back in the Juarez hotel room. It was already high noon at that point.

Walking the dilapidated streets of Juarez once again, The Artist Known As Jake Martinez and I found ourselves at the entrance of 'Illusion Tattoo'. The tattoo shop was owned by a rather friendly Mexican biker who, as it turned out, had spent his formative years in Juarez before relocating to El Paso, Texas, for a period.

He had recently moved back to Juarez, and opened this business, after - as he put it - "getting into a bit of trouble" in the States and being deported.

I didn't ask for details. Some things are better left unsaid.

So I got a tattoo. Everybody had warned me how painful it would be, but it wasn't. It stung a bit but was nowhere near hurt. Mostly it made me kind of sleepy. But that might've had more to do with having to sit stationary in a chair for over an hour than getting the tattoo itself.

Afterwards, The Artist Known As Jake Martinez and I drove over to his aunt's house for dinner. Much of the family was there when we arrived.

Shortly after our arrival, Jake's mom took me aside and asked what we had done the night before. "You two didn't pick up any girls, did you?" she asked. No. No, ma'am. Not exactly.

A fine meal of 'chicken mole', pink rice and tortillas was soon served. When eating, I held the tortilla in my hand and filled it with the chicken mole and rice. Then I rolled it up and ate it.

The Mom Known As Widow Martinez watched me, beaming, and commented, "You eat like a Mexican!"

She seemed quite pleased by this.

Then, all eyes turned to Jake. He was really shoveling the grub in - eating like a no-good Ugly American!