The Canadian King of Mexico

A Two year Anniversary NewsExcite! Retrospective

By Emily Hosier

Obviously, my name is not Emily Hosier, it is Gabriel Ricard. Bare with me children, this is another odd idea I got from babbling about something. I won't say what, but pretty much this entire story is true in that I said it. Sadly, I have yet to go out and do it. Enjoy.

Contrary to popular belief, I really am Tom's sister. To think that two years have gone by since this whole thing happened and to still have people ask me what it was like to "play" Tom Hosier's "bitchy" sister is amazing, if not a little sad. The fact of the matter is, I really am his sister and I probably am a bitch, but you would be too if you had to put up with Tom at every family reunion, the only time anyone stateside ever sees him. My parents have apparently made it a point to now hold them once a year, as they both went to Mexico for their honeymoon god knows how many years ago and hated it and the rest of us? No thanks. So they make Tom come to them. Fine by me, except that it's pretty much all the rest of my family does anymore. Planning these family togetherness festivals in secret locations so Tom isn't put into a "compromising position". Tom is the sort of person that surprises you in many ways. For example, before his accession to power, he was an arrogant, irritable, paranoid jerk. Now, he's all these things, just with a horrible extra he calls "dramatic flair".

Yes, these quotation marks are annoying, but as I don't want to end up in a Mexican brothel, I have to avoid being accused of hurting the good name of my dear brother through misquote, so deal with it. you've already bought this EXTREME EXPLETIVE DELETED magazine.

Anyway, the point of this is to run you through the story ONE MORE TIME. The difference? It's from my point of view. To be honest, I don't really see how that would matter. Sure, I haven't really been given the chance to tell my story in the entire ten year span, but come on, that's hardly a reason to pick me, right?

They're not paying by the word, just so you know. They should be, shouldn't they? Write them and say so, I'll mention you warmly on my new website: EXTREME EXPLETIVE DELETED.

Christmas morning two years ago was like any other. Though, Tom had been babbling for most of the holiday that as he would be eighteen next Christmas, that this would probably be his last with the family. That much was different, the other thing that was new was that whole breakfast thing at our church. My parents had apparently discovered Jesus, and rather then keeping it to themselves, they decided al l of us kids, meaning myself, Tom, Steven, Caleb and Connor needed to find him too. So, every Sunday and Wednesday, for about eight months leading up to Christmas, we all found ourselves front row center to what had to be the most terrifying and yet mind numbingly dull two hours of the week. The little guys, Steven 11, Caleb 8 and Connor 4 took to it all right and I suffered through it the way I suffer through most things but Tom was a different story.

Tom had spent most of his life trying to come to some kind of conclusion about religion. From seven to about twelve, he attended church once or twice a month. He told me he once that he didn't go out of some "mindless sense of duty," but rather to "study". I guess he wasn't pleased with the conclusion he came to, we moved when he was thirteen, by then he had well stopped going and had all together stopped talking about it. My parents weren't terribly religious at the time so nothing really came of it. Until of course, that sudden discovery of Jesus I mentioned. Of course, they made him go along with us. It was about then he took about that smoking habit the biographers mention so much. I don't know what he's up to these days on average but he goes through two packs when I see him once a year. When he first started ten years ago, he started on a half pack and worked towards a full pack within a month. Going to this church was that awful for him I guess. I can't say I blame him, I was thirteen at the time and while I could put up with it, that didn't mean I liked it. I didn't have a problem with the religion part, and maybe if it had been different, Tom wouldn't have either. The problem both of us, Tom in particular had was with that infamous pastor.

Before his "mysterious" disappearance nine and a half years ago, Ted Petts ran the only Southern Baptist church in the county. The only church really, so based on that, he was what you would call an influential man. My parents, and most adults in general loved him but, you'd be hard pressed to find any kids that liked him. The first thing, he was a creepy looking man. He was fat and bald which wasn't unusual for the area but it was his face that did it. Forever pink in color with eyes that may as well have been pure white. The way he looked at you with them, he always seemed to be on the verge of, something, I don't know what and I probably never will. Adding to the fact that he was about as far to the realm of fundamentalist as a Christian could be. That was the other creepy part about him, the obsessive way he would tear into things during his sermons. It was almost like he was talking to himself and we just happened to be there.

He saw something in Tom, the idea that he was in desperate need of salvation. At church, he would talk to him constantly. Asking him if he had accepted Jesus yet or if he was "truly willing to bear the fires of hell for his confusion." He would even go so far as to mention him specifically in sermons. At home, Tom didn't get any peace from him either. Ted had taken it upon himself to call Tom at home, under the pretense of talking to our parents. Of course, he couldn't get out talking to him and would nod and say "yeah" for twenty or so minutes. I have to admit this was the only time in my life when I found myself feeling sorry for him.

Tom was someone who never took stress or abuse very well. I couldn't believe our parents hadn't noticed it. To this day, my dad says he knew, but didn't know how to approach him. Sure dad. I'm amazed he put up with it as long as he did but he finally snapped on Christmas day. He complained of stomach pains all day but the parents would have nothing to do with it. We piled the seven of us into a car meant for six and drove the twenty minute trek to the church. Tom mostly kept to himself, he'd probably have been reading if mom let him bring a book. Instead, he sat as far away from the rest of us as possible, legs crossed and hands resting in his lap. Pretty much the way he always was. Actually, it had been fairly uneventful, Ted had barely said anything to him as he was busy with cooking and everyone else was running around getting tables set up and trying to fit in small talk at the same time. At some point, I decided to go over and check on him and saw him go for the bathroom. I probably would have talked to him when he got out but mom came over and told me to find a seat.

There were two long tables in the room we had to eat in. The adults sat at one and anyone under the age of twenty sat at ours. Before any of us were served, Ted rose from his seat next to wife Shirley to give a blessing. It could have been a reading from a long short story with the time it always took him to get through it.

Now, even though it has pretty much been established, I still get people coming to me with distorted versions of what happens at this point. No, despite the TV movie, Tom did not come out of the bathroom with a shotgun, Tom always hated guns. Also, he didn't run out of the bathroom naked, carrying a baseball bat and wearing Native American war paint.

He simply walked out of the bathroom, his expression didn't give any hints nor did his body. The way the tables and the hallway to the bathroom were lined up, by coming out of the hallway, you would come into the room where the tables were and Ted would be right in front of you, his back turned.

I could probably think of a hundred times before this day when Tom could have done this very thing. He still won't tell me what made him go off on Christmas day. At any rate, Ted was probably somewhere in the middle of his blessing as Tom came out of the bathroom. Instead of walking right past Ted to his seat, he stopped and watched him. No one gave him any notice and Ted continued rambling. The key to Tom kicking Ted over and onto the table were his steel toe boots. He had bought them before starting school, wanting to look as pissed off as possible through his choice of footwear.

If Tom had been wearing any other kind of shoes or boots, it probably wouldn't have worked so well when he leapt straight up and landed on Ted's back. The fact that all of us were gripped in silence and an inability to even react probably helped too.

To be honest, I didn't have any thoughts going through my mind as I watched this. I just watched, it had to be one of the most incredible things I have ever seen. I think everyone wanted to see what would happen next, despite what many of them said later to TV reporters ect.

Tom obviously knew he could only play off the shock of everyone around him for so long, he reached into his pocket and that was when Shirley screamed, but didn't get up because she thought he was about to pull out a gun. Instead, he pulled out a cigarette and lit it. He took one drag, his feet visibly pushing down, keeping Ted from moving, though I think he was unconscious. After the one drag, Tom kneeled down and put the cigarette out on the back of his neck, reacting quickly to Ted springing up and screaming, Ted fell forward and crashed into the table again, holding his neck and sobbing.

Tom looked at us, right at me it felt like, and raised his arms in the air, laughing and screaming "Victory!"

That's when I laughed, that damn laugh that my own parents blasted me on four different TV channels for in the months after. I couldn't help it, I thought it was really funny. I swear, he winked at me when I laughed. No one else seems to have saw it, but he did. He winked, turned and ran out the door. At long last, someone was smart enough to follow him but all they saw was our car explode down the driveway of the church and disappear down highway 40.

You'd think someone amongst us would call the police but no, I think Tom had been counting on that. Because everyone pretty much yelled and some even started to cry like mom did. She blamed this on her poor parenting skills. Finally, dad took Ted to the hospital and the assistant pastor, who had also started to cry, called the police.

It didn't really matter, Tom dumped the car about a half hour away from the church and had picked up a 99 white Ford Taurus from a nearby driveway. I had no idea he knew how to hot wire a car. Believe me, coming from the guy who had me make Macaroni and Cheese for him because he didn't know how, this was surprising.

Tom reached Mexico sometime the next day. For three or so years, Tom had been telling me that he had connections all over the country from friends he had made on various online instant messengers. Of course, because he's about a degree away from being a full blown pathological liar, I didn't believe him. I guess for once, he had been right. To this day though, I would like to know where he met this people. He still won't tell me.

From here, we can only rely on what Tom has said in rare interviews, what other people have claimed and what he's told me. Sadly, the three are no where near the same, but I've managed to get a fairly clear version which has not seen a lot of press. I guess because compared to the other ones, it's pretty boring.

Once he was safely in Mexico, Tom hooked up with a friend known as Cien Mascaras. A retired Mexican wrestler who ran one of the largest underground brothels in North America. Cien was supposedly ninety-four at the time and was desperate to retire. For some ridiculous reason, he felt Tom was the only one he could trust and without a second thought, turned the entire operation over to him. This was all within Tom's first week in Mexico.

A few days after that, Tom called in another one of his connections. The leader of a lesbian militant group which had been desiring to overthrow the government since their inception two billion years ago or whenever.

Once again, I have no earthly clue where you meet these people anywhere on the Internet. Which reminds me, the next person who asks me where they can meet these people will be EXTREME EXPLETIVES DELETED until their ass starts bleeding buckets. I mean really now, how the hell am I supposed to now? You've seen me on the news? Do I look important? Hm?

Combining the lesbians, whores and loyal customers of said whores. Tom had amassed an army of about a million people.

It took them a grand total of forty-five minutes to overthrow the Mexican government. I understand it is now against the law to mention anything pertaining to Mexico before the insurrection.

Naturally, the American government wanted to do something about it. But as I understand it, they keep getting blocked by these huge suitcases of money. Of course, that's only a rumor.

I also understand the people of Mexico are mostly happy with their king. Eventually the main players in the lesbian army were filtered out along with some of the wealthier whore house customers and those girls that knew too much. A few dozen people Tom had known through out the states disappeared as well, including Ted and for no particular reason, his wife. Shirley didn't die, I do know that. Today she stands as being the cheapest whore in all of Mexico.

So, things worked out for Tom. And us really, Tom forgave mom and dad for forcing him to go to church. Kind of easy when it indirectly leads to assuming control of a North American country. Since none of us will come to Mexico, he sends money, occasionally women for Steven who isn't shy about letting everyone, even his sister know that he is now the EXTREME EXPLETIVE DELETED of the world.

As for me personally?

Well I'm writing this retrospective aren't I?

Which can be interpreted a lot of ways I guess.


Well, that was pretty fucking bad…wouldn't you say? Yes Gabe, I'd say so. What exactly were you thinking when the decision to put this to word came to you? I have no idea. Never do really do you? No…

Thank you to those who suffered through this…I'd like to offer you more than the knowledge that you survived something awful but alas I can't. If you are an attractive girl between the ages 15-27 I can offer you sex.