Tacoshi’s Quest Part I

Read between the lines.

Looking up, Tacoshi blinked and adjusted his glasses as the lazy spinning ceiling fan came into view.

“Oh, no, “ he sighed, “It was only meant to be a light siesta.”

“Oh dear.” He glanced at the date on his wristwatch. September 29. Taco Tuesday.

Kicking himself upright, Tacoshi jumped off the bed and tottered over to the mirror.

In a daze, he adjusted his tousled hair, craning over the bridge of his glasses and furrowing his brow.

No sooner had Tacoshi finished adjusting his hair than he was startled by a knock at the door.

Turning up his nose in annoyance, he hobbled over and hesitantly unlatched it.

“Hello,” said gender neutral taco (GNT), stepping over the threshold uninvited. “You look a little ruffled. Were you sleeping?”

“Err…no,” said Tacoshi, running a hand across his hair one final time. “I was just working on my next crypto creation. It’s going to be the best thing since Bitcoin.”

Tacoshi coughed. “Obviously I didn’t invent that,” he said hastily. “But Taco 2.0 will be made by me for Los Taqueros.”

“Of course,” said GNT, who had never doubted Tacoshi’s brilliance — just his ability to stay awake on the job.

Putting his tiny arms as far around his fellow taquero as they would extend, GNT squeaked with delight.

“Right on bro,” added the androgonous figure, squeezing the avuncular Tacoshi tightly.

It took a moment for the elderly Tacoshi to decode the compliment.

Gingerly, he extracted himself from GNT’s embrace and brushed himself down.

Holding out an arm, GNT pulled Tacoshi back in and whispered something in his ear.

“Taco 2.0 will be epic. Now read the first letter of each paragraph.”

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