Every
fat cat from Las Lomas Polo is shadowed wherever he goes
by five or six escorts, and Spider Salazar is even worse; ever since he struck it rich he's had himself protected
by a troop of thugs trained in Israel, and that night Spider, who hadn't been on a horse for months because he was clogged with cholesterol and had to content himself with watching from the stands, that night Spider, who was completely plastered, ordered them to bring him the most spirited horse, a big, imperious bay called Parsley, and if I say «called,» Agustina princess, it's because no one calls it anything anymore, since in the darkness, the mud, and the commotion, Parsley lost his
temper and threw Spider, slamming him against a rock, and then some genius of a bodyguard, a guy they call the Sucker, had the brilliant idea of teaching the horse a lesson
by blasting it with his machine gun, leaving it riddled like a sieve with its hooves pointing up at the moon, the most pathetic little scene imaginable.