"Indigo. Indigo..." said Jolie, shaking my body.
"Shut up..." I mumbled half-asleep.
"Stop making El Chavo del 8 jokes and get up already!"
"We have to go train with my grandpa so we can beat Trumpete!" she shouted angrily, yanking my blanket off me roughly.
"Okay, okay, I'm up... but why does it have to be so early?" I muttered, barely sitting up.
"And tone down your attitude a bit, you nearly gave me a heart attack," I added.
"It's because my grandpa hates when we're late to this kind of training," she replied, then paused.
"And, okay... you're kinda right. I need to control myself. I almost slapped you like Will Smith did to Chris Rock," Jolie said, referencing that moment from the 2022 Oscars.
"Alright, alright..." I said, rubbing my eyes.
"Besides, we only have like two days left to train before we face Trompas. So come on, let's get dressed and eat so we can head to my grandpa's," I said, now more motivated to accept the mission.
After getting dressed, having breakfast, and saying goodbye to Jolie's mom, we set off to Yucatán on my gravity bike. Her grandfather lives there, and taking the bus would've taken way longer. Jolie wasn't used to this kind of ride, but we got there in about an hour.
"Well, we're here. This is my grandpa's house," Jolie said.
"Cool, I guess... What's he like?" I asked, a bit unsure.
"He's kind of like a wise old man who knows all about chi. He taught me the second martial art I know-taekwondo."
"But sometimes he can be a bit of a perv, and other times he's super peaceful," she said, striking a taekwondo pose with her arms.
"Well, at least he sounds a little different from my grandpa," I commented.
"Why do you say that? What's your grandpa like?" she asked curiously.
"He's a pastor at a Christian church!" I blurted, waving my arms around in panic.
"Really? Relax, I'm not gonna make fun of you," she said sincerely.
"It's just... I thought it was weird you didn't tell me that yesterday when I showed you around Tampico."
"It's just... it's kinda embarrassing. I thought you'd make fun of me," I admitted nervously.
"Of course not, Indigo. You're my friend. That's what matters."
"But anyway, let's stop chatting for now-my grandpa takes punctuality very seriously," she said, giving me a warm smile as she took my arm and led me toward the door.
"Alright... let's go in."
When we walked into her grandpa's house, we found him meditating in the backyard. He opened his eyes and said:
"You're five minutes late, Jolie María. You were supposed to be here by 7:30, and it's 7:35."
"Ugh! Grandpa! Stop saying my middle name in front of Indigo! That's more embarrassing than anything my mom does!" Jolie shouted, her cheeks red with shame.
"Fine. And that scrawny kid next to you must be Indigo, huh? The guy you messaged me about yesterday while you were chilling," he said, giving me a grumpy look.
"Yeah, that's me, sir. Now cut the crap-I need you to train me so I can send Trump straight to hell," I said, already fed up with his attitude.
"Pfft! That's funny. So you want to beat the crap outta Trump with that scrawny, underfed body? Hah! You don't stand a chance!" he said, laughing so hard he fell to the floor.
"Quit mocking him, you old pervy geezer! At least he tried to help some immigrants and distracted Trump's granddaughter so we could escape before getting paralyzed by her golden lemur form!" Jolie said, standing up for me.
"Alright, alright. I was just joking. Of course I could train you," the old man said, picking up his staff and slamming it to the ground.
"But Trump, with his chi and that orange orangutan form of his, is incredibly strong... and dangerous."
"Then why were you making fun of me just now, acting like I couldn't beat him just 'cause I'm skinny?" I asked, calling out his hypocrisy.
"Because... eight years ago, I fought him face to face. And believe me, messing with that guy is no joke. But I'll tell you the story anyway..."
"It all started when I saw the news. That crazy gringo started calling us Mexicans dirty and rapists. I was furious, so I challenged him to a fight. He accepted, and we met in the Yucatán Peninsula. The battle was pretty even-until he transformed into that bloodthirsty beast using his chi: a 4.7-meter-tall orange orangutan with insane strength that could crush steel beams like they were toothpicks."
"He attacked me with brutal force. I used my chi to turn into a gorilla almost as big as him, but my efforts barely made a dent. So with the last of my strength, I launched an attack that sealed away part of his power-for eight years."
"But now... those eight years are up. He's regained the full power of his chi. He's going to become that bloodthirsty beast again."
"Damn... No wonder you turned into a pacifist and became so strict," Jolie said, confused. "But why didn't you tell me any of this before?"
"I didn't want you getting hurt. But now I don't have a choice. You two are the only ones who can stop Trump. And I'll show you how," he said, acting like a true mentor.
"Okay... So, uh... what's your name?" I asked.
"David. It'll be an honor to train you, pupil Indigo," he said proudly, shaking my hand with force.
"Fine. But stop calling me scrawny. Just call me Indigo."
Then we started training. At one point, the old man asked us to bring him some magazines with beautiful women, and I said:
"Hey Jolie... why are we bringing your grandpa these magazines full of sexy women?"
"Wasn't he supposed to be training us?" I asked, confused, carrying the stack.
"Like I told you, he's got a pervy side-like some of those old creeps in anime," Jolie said with a bored look.
After that, we handed him the magazines, and he said:
"So you brought the magazines I asked for?" said David, clearly enjoying himself a little too much.
"Yes, Grandpa, but don't get weird about it," Jolie replied, clearly uncomfortable as she clenched her teeth.
"Doesn't matter. Just give them to me... give them to me... my precious magazines full of sexy women!" he said, snatching them from our hands like it was nothing.
And just like that, we continued our... unusual training. We took out the trash, cooked him some quesabirrias, and along the way I learned a bit of Northern Shaolin Kung Fu and the Praying Mantis style. I also picked up some Capoeira, while Jolie improved her skills a little too.
He also taught us a bit about Trump's chi and how to dodge his powerful punches.
Then the day came... the day we had to face that orange gringo.
I turned to Jolie and said:
"Well, we trained hard. Your grandpa's surprisingly strong for his age..."
"I don't know if I'll make it out of this, Jolie..." I added nervously, my hands trembling.
"Don't lose hope, Indigo. Just believe in yourself-you'll make it. Besides, that training made us stronger," Jolie said with determination in her eyes.
"Unlike when we fought Trump's granddaughter."
"Okay, you're right. I'll try..." I paused.
"By the way, I never asked-what's your second last name?" I asked, curious.
"It's Rodríguez. I forgot to tell you when we met at the airport four days ago," she answered.
"And what's yours, Indigo?"
"It's Adame... I didn't tell you because I thought you'd ban it out of respect for Alfredo Adame, since he's your favorite actor," I said, a little embarrassed, fiddling with my pinkies.
"Of course not, Indigo. Well... maybe a tiny part of me wants to, but I need to learn to accept my friends' names as they are-"
"Instead of throwing a tantrum on the floor just because someone happens to share a last name with one of my favorite actors."
"But enough about that-get your anti-gravity bike ready. We're going to go tell Trump to go fuck himself," said Jolie, sounding proud and giving me confidence.
"You're right. We've wasted enough time. Let's go," I said, now feeling more sure of myself.
A while later, we packed all the supplies for the battle and set off to face Trump. Jolie said goodbye to her grandfather for training us.
When we returned to the border between Mexico and the U.S., that bastard greeted us by saying:
"Well, it took you long enough. I was starting to feel like I wasn't even important to this final chapter of the mini-arc."
"I see you're Jolie... that bratty little granddaughter of the filthy Mexican shaman who fought me eight years ago for being racist to your people," Trump said, staring at my friend with pure disdain.
"Damn right I'm her. And we're here to send you to hell, Trompas," said Jolie, stepping into a fighting stance, full of defiance.
"Wait a second... I didn't know your grandpa was a shaman. Makes sense now-his house had that weird energy."
"But enough talking. Let's get to the action!" I shouted, fired up and ready for battle.
"Fine. Let's make this quick-I've got a meeting with Putin to discuss our war negotiations in Ukraine. Also planning to deport more filthy illegal immigrants, the cancer of my great country," said Trump, striking a militaristic pose.
The battle began. Trump came at us with raw punches-it was tough to dodge, but we managed to land some hits on him. Then he launched a brutal kick that nearly took out my leg, but thanks to the bit of telekinesis I learned from Jolie's grandpa, I managed to throw a steel beam at his leg, wounding him slightly.
That's when he pulled out his mini-golf bat and started launching freezing golf balls at us. But Jolie, using her acrobatic skills, dodged them and followed up with Northern Shaolin kung fu, delivering solid kicks and punches to Trump.
She managed to injure him a bit-
But then Trump countered with a single devastating hit that slammed her into a wall, leaving her badly hurt.
So I used a few of my machines to build some mechanical boxing gloves. I threw four straight punches, managing to hurt him a bit more. Just when it looked like we were winning, Trump activated his chi and transformed into a 4.7-meter-tall orange orangutan, unleashing the full power that Jolie's grandfather had sealed away eight years ago.
He began emitting sonic shockwaves with his palms. Jolie and I had no choice but to retreat, with Trump chasing us, throwing punches and kicks, destroying buildings in his path.
Eventually, he knocked us off my anti-gravity bike with a massive sonic scream, and we crash-landed in a zone near Tijuana. But I used the leftover materials from my machine gloves to create shields that saved both me and Jolie from a deadly fall.
We were both too injured to keep fighting... so we came up with one last idea. Jolie and I launched a dual kick, hitting Trump straight in the chest, knocking him down hard-
and it worked.
Trump returned to his normal form.
I was about to finish him off with the remains of my anti-gravity bike when Jolie stopped me.
"Let's interrogate him instead," she said. I sighed and agreed.
"Why the hell did you do all this, Trump? You nearly killed me and Jolie!" I shouted in rage.
"All because you wanted to deport some immigrants looking for a better life?!"
"Oh, you naïve little brat. You want the truth? Fine. I'll tell you," Trump growled.
"That day when I was talking to Putin, he told me he's planning to collect three Threads of Destiny and Love-threads that can amplify the power of two lovers when they merge."
"He wants to use that power to invade other countries in Europe and restore the Soviet Union."
"But he's not the only one looking for them... Ortega, Maduro, and Kim Jong-un are after them too. Why? I have no idea what those bitches want them for."
"And as for the illegal immigrants-what can I say, kid? They're a problem for my country. But in my case... I don't tolerate them out of pride. I care about my image."
Trump stared at me with a bitter, angry look.
"So there really are more threads... and those bastards are hunting them down?" I muttered with a sick feeling in my gut.
"Hey, don't stress out, Indigo," Jolie said.
"We'll focus on finding those threads before those filthy dictator rapists do."
"By the way, Trump-are you planning to slap tariffs on Mexico and Costa Rica?" Jolie asked casually while cracking her knuckles.
"Of course not. I've seen the potential you two have."
"But if you ever mess with my affairs again, I'll contact Bukele from El Salvador to have you locked in a maximum-security juvenile prison," he warned.
"Fine, we won't get in your way again... but what about the destruction you caused as a giant orangutan?" I asked.
"I'll have Eric, Junior, and Tiffany pay for the damages.
I'm not going to take responsibility for disasters caused by a couple of dirty Latin kids who didn't let me deport immigrants in peace," he grumbled.
"But go. Go recover from your wounds," Trump said, still bitter.
"Alright then... Jolie, I'll try to fix my anti-gravity bike so we can go back to Tampico," I said.
After a while, I managed to patch up the bike despite my injuries, and we returned to her house. Her mom welcomed us kindly and told us to rest-which we did.
That night, Jolie had a conversation with her mom.
"Fighting Trump was exhausting, Mom... but I don't know if I can go with him to Costa Rica to help him find the threads and stop those dictators," she said, uncertain.
"Don't worry, mija. That autistic boy showed incredible courage and determination. Your duty is to help him complete his mission," her mom said, placing a hand on her shoulder.
"I'll try to get in touch with an airline so you can get a part-time job with special permission. That way, you can apply for a university scholarship in his country."
"Okay... thanks so much, Mom. I love you," Jolie said joyfully, hugging her mom.
"And if you do have feelings for that scrawny autistic kid, I won't stand in the way," her mom said teasingly.
"Ugh! Mom! That's the second time you bring up my relationship with Indigo!" Jolie replied, blushing and flustered.
"Go to bed, sweetie. You've got a long trip ahead tomorrow afternoon," Jia said warmly.
The next day came. In the afternoon, I said goodbye to Jolie and her mom.
"Goodbye, ma'am. Thanks for letting me stay," I said, waving.
"No problem, Indigo. It was a pleasure having you here, scrawny boy," Jia replied with a smirk, waving back.
"Goodbye, Jolie," I said, tearing up as I got ready to leave.
"Wait, Indigo!" Jolie called out.
"What? You're coming with me to Costa Rica?!" I asked, shocked.
"Of course, my scrawny friend," Jolie said with a big smile.
"But... how? You don't have enough money! What about your part-time job?" I asked, totally confused.
"My mom already sorted it out. I'll be working part-time at an airline so I can apply for college in your country."
"And my dad gave me like 800,000 Costa Rican colones to cover the basics. I've also packed all the essentials-clothes, hygiene stuff, you name it."
"And I'm not about to let you face a bunch of filthy dictators all by yourself," Jolie said cheerfully.
"Alright then... it's settled. You're coming to Costa Rica with me," I said.
"By the way... you look really pretty in that outfit-it kinda reminds me of what Mitsuha wears at the end of Your Name," I said, complimenting her shyly.
"Ahhh, Indigo! Stop complimenting me, you're making me blush in front of my mom! Let's just go already! I packed other outfits too!" Jolie said, cheeks red as she scratched the back of her head.
"Okay, okay, I'll stop," I laughed.
"Goodbye again, ma'am," I said, waving one more time.
"Bye, Mom! We'll see each other again sometime!" said Jolie, waving with a bright smile on her face.
"Alright, take care, sweetie. Travel safe," said Jia, smiling at her daughter.
And with that, we set off back to Costa Rica, my homeland.
Meanwhile...
"Looks like Trump told those brats about our plan to gather the mysterious threads and use them for our own gain," said Vladimir Putin, looking serious.
"They think they're so special... those lovebirds. But they're just teenagers on the verge of adulthood," he scoffed.
"They won't stand in our way-not if we stop them first."
"So Ortega, you think that with your worn-out health you can stop them?" Putin asked, looking at Ortega.
"Those brats won't beat me or my cyberattacks.
Especially since one of them was born in the neighboring country-this'll be a piece of cake," Ortega said maliciously.
"You'll see, Indigo and Jolie.
Your luck will run out the moment I decide so..." Ortega declared with a dark, evil tone.