"Then you don't know how to be happy," Chavo said. "Because happiness isn't a kabillion of anything. It's one of everything… at the right time." Kabillion tried to leave. He really did. He tried to snap his fingers and teleport to the Rick and Morty dimension. But something held him. A tiny, sticky hand.
El Chavo stood up. He walked through the gold coins, past the robotic bowing neighbors, and placed his small hand on Kabillion's shimmering sleeve. kabillion el chavo
Kabillion floated down to him. "YOU. THE SMALL ONE IN THE STRIPED SHIRT. YOU HAVE NOT WISHED. WHY?" "Then you don't know how to be happy," Chavo said
Kabillion's face-screen flickered. "THAT IS EIGHT WISHES. PLUS A TACO." He really did
From the puddle rose a figure. He was tall, lanky, dressed in a suit that flickered between neon purple and absolute zero. His face was a smooth, featureless screen that displayed a single, rotating emoji: 😐
"I have traveled the multiverse," Kabillion whispered, his voice now a gentle hum. "I have seen supernovas and singularities. But I have never seen anyone turn one tortilla into a feast."
Chavo didn't wish against him. He just… offered.