My friend’s wife is part of the army’s special forces. Her personality is something that always stands out: sometimes she’s so sweet, kind, and charming that she could make you fall in love just by talking to you, but her other side… that one is terrifying. Horrible. A version of herself that I imagine she reserves for work. And unfortunately, it’s the side she uses the most with my friend when they’re out in public.

Hi, I'm Leonardo, and I'm here to tell you what happened after the events at the abbey. If you didn't read "The Case of the Abbey" here, you got it.

It turned out that the monster behind the murders was none other than the abbey’s director. The investigation conducted by the detective in charge led to that conclusion, and we were all left speechless. I had just arrived, and finding myself in that mess, I lost all enthusiasm for continuing my attempt at being a monk. I grabbed my terror and got the hell out of there.

But since I had sold everything after what my friend did to me (a miserable situation that left me with a huge sadness), I was left with nothing. And now that I had decided not to be a monk anymore, I asked my friend Tito if he could give me a little space in his house. That’s what friends are for.

Tito agreed without thinking twice. I told him to think about it, that maybe he should talk it over with his wife. He said not to worry, that he’d handle that later.

Since I barely owned anything—just the clothes I was wearing—I moved in faster than immediately.

Sorbetico, that’s what we call Tito’s wife, accepted me staying there, but that unfriendly look on her face was right there, fixed like a “do not disturb” sign. I told myself I’d try to stay there as little as possible, just in case that little dark-skinned woman decided to shoot me… or worse, shoot Tito.

We call her Sorbetico because she looks exactly like the little ant from a cookie commercial called Sorbeticos: dark-skinned, big bulging eyes, small boobs, and a huge ass. The same.

Time flew. Weeks went by, and I still couldn’t find a job; the direct consequence was that I couldn’t move out. Tito kept telling me not to worry, but I did worry. Sorbetico’s face was getting more intimidating each day.

Then I noticed I wasn’t seeing Tito anymore. I asked about him, and the commando told me she had gone on a trip—and immediately followed with, “And you? When are you leaving?”
I swallowed hard and said, “Soon.”

One night, I heard noises in Tito and Sorbetico’s room. It struck me as odd because Tito was supposedly out of town. I thought maybe he had come back, but no. When I knocked on the door to make sure everything was okay, she opened it… half-naked and holding a dog leash. She said nothing was happening, that she was about to sleep.

A dog leash. Half-naked. Something didn’t add up. It felt like someone was cheating on my friend.

Several nights passed, and the same nonsense continued: noises, laughter, loud movements of the bed… You know: the “ñiqui ñaqui.”
Damn, someone was definitely getting it on in there. Some caimán was eating my friend’s Sorbetico alive. Being a good friend, I tried calling Tito, but his phone was off. I didn’t know what to do.

Until one early morning, I woke up because I had to pee, and I was dying of thirst. I went to the bathroom and then to the kitchen for water. There she was, exquisitely half-naked, covered only by thin white strings that looked too good on her. And again with that damn dog leash. But what really caught my attention wasn’t her… it was the leash: it was tense and moving on its own, as if an invisible pet was pulling at the other end.

I went to the fridge for water, but in reality, I wanted to see the dog.
And what I saw scared the shit out of me. There was nothing there. If there was a dog, it was invisible. The leash trembled as if trying to flee the kitchen. Sorbetico looked nervous.
What the hell was going on? A ghost?

When she tried to leave the kitchen with “the thing” she had on the leash, I grabbed her by the arm and asked her what was happening.

She was about to give me a less-than-friendly answer when suddenly the leash lifted almost to my height. Hell, that scared me. But the most surprising part was that something above the leash moved, removed a cape or cloak… and revealed Tito.

Yes, Tito.

Turns out the bastard had graduated as a magician and, according to him, the cape made him invisible. It was one of his tricks. But besides being part of his job, he used it with his wife to do their filthy business all over the house with the excuse of the invisible dog.
Those two really are nasty—zero respect for the fact that I lived there too.
They were eating all the meat, and I was starving.

That’s it for my five minutes. The ink’s run out.