The Imprecisely-Recorded Death of El Grande Mysterioso

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Ladies and gentlemen, I have gathered you together for a good
reason. Does anyone know what that reason is? And you will not guess?
Very well: El Grande Mysterioso, our good friend and kinsman, is dead -
dead in extraordinary circumstances that I shall detail shortly after
the end of this column. Suffice to say it involves enchiladas, some
shoe polish, and one very angry leprechaun, and it was almost certainly
the way he would have wanted to go. He died as he lived, truly.

As his lawyer, the executor of his will, and his accomplice in certain
activities that I think you'll find we all agreed never to mention
again, it falls upon me to see that his wishes are abided by. Thus, his
final words will be printed in paperback in the spring, and will
include such lexical highlights as "luminescent", "extrapolate", and
"agog".

The more cynical, or perhaps the more realistic, amongst you may
believe that this is nothing but a hoax, a jest, and amusing trifle,
and that El Grande Mysterioso resides with us still in cunning
disguise. He assures you - sorry, I assure you that this is not the
case. I assure you. I would let you view his corpse and put your
doubting minds to rest, but I am afeared that you may never sleep again
because of the torturous image it would place in your souls.

And no, none of you got any money in the will.

Now, the amazing and thrilling story of El Grande Mysterioso's death -
it will make you laugh, it will make you cry, it will make you - ah,
but I'm talking it up too much. It all begins when...