"Look at those boys down there, trying to impress the girl." The woman sighed, brushing a long piece of black hair behind her shoulder. Her large sombrero was lines with candles.
The man sighed. "You know, I would really like it if we could swap domai-"
"No." The woman abruptly said. "Xibalba, there is no way you're going to be allowed to rule the remembered." It was her domain. She was La Muerte. It was the Day of the Dead. She was expected to prepare a feast for all of the souls inhabiting the Land of the Remebered.
"Care to make a wager?" the man cunningly asked. He knew La Muerte-after all, they were in a relationship. She was always up to take on a bet. And he was exhausted of living in the midst of the forgotten souls.
"Go on." La Muerte said, raising an eyebrow. She knew his tricks. She needed something where he couldn't possibly cheat.
"See those kids down there?" He said, point info to the laughing trio chasing a floating fake mustache. "I bet the one with the fake mustache marries the girl."
The woman examined the other boy, the one with the guitar. She knew who they were. It was part of her job to know everyone. He was...different. For some reason she got a different feeling from him than the other children. "And if you win?" She asked.
"Well, we switch our realms, of course." Xibalba said, as if it were obvious.
She sighed. "All right. And if I win, you have to stop interfering with mortals' lives."
He reluctantly agreed.
They both disguised themselves as elderly beggars and approached their subjects.
"Little boy, would you be so kind as to share your bread?" La Muerte asked. The boy with the guitar looked at his father, who nodded.
"Of course." He said. "Mamá would have wanted you to have it."
La Muerte looked at the portrait on the altar. It was of a woman who she assumed was the boy's mother. She smiled.
"Let me give you my blessing." She said.
The boy smiled. "Gracías, señora." he thanked her.
However, things were not necessarily going so smoothly with Oscar and Xibalba.
"Would you give me some bread?" Xibalba asked the boy, who turned his nose up.
"This bread is for my father, mister." He said, picking up a loaf and taking a large bite, and smirking.
"How about I trade you something for a loaf of bread?" Xibalba asked. Oscar's eyebrows raised.
"What is it?" He asked, taking another bite.
Xibalba showed him a green shiny medal. "So? What does it DO?" Oscar asked.
"It's the Medal of Everlasting Life. If you're wearing it, you can never get killed or injured."
"Ever?" Oscar asked.
"Ever." Xibalba said. Oscar passed over the half-eaten loaf of bread.
"Cool." He said, putting on the medal. Xibalba stopped him.
"You must never show the medal to anyone." He demanded. Oscar nodded.
"Okay." He said, running off to find his friends.