The sick husband was lying on his death bed. He had only hours to live when suddenly he smelled tamales. He dearly loved tamales more than anything else in the world, especially his querida Chita's tamales.

With every last bit of the energy left in his mind and body, the terminally ill husband pulled himself out of bed, across the floor, down the hall, and into the kitchen. Here, his wife was removing the fresh batch of tamales from the stove top. As he reached for one of the freshly made tamales, his wife, Chita, smacked him in the back of the head with a wooden spoon.

"Leave them alone, pendejo!"

"...They're for the funeral!

If there is no menu on the left side of the screen, you need to click here to activate the menu.