Obelix, el amigo

Obelix, el amigo, he's static and tense on the tabla, while a white light that doesn't warm projects a tenuous shadow of his obese globosity

personage of the fictions, in 1,000 adventures he helped Asterix to cross through those boscages of Hendaye toward the Atlantic, to fish the salty and Basque anchovy, la sardina

and the eel, whose electric body is used by the Gaul to illuminate the village, that electric light that so much scares the Roman legion.


In his nonmoving, dare one say stagnant posture, he's waiting for the arrival of the carts that bring the menhirs:

Pompey the Roman, satiated with conquests, he arrives in a golden quadriga from the eastern jungles of Boleslaw

-in seeing the excessively stable body of Obelix enormous, the disdainful Pompey exclaims:

"Hey you, the fat Gaul, move your titanic ass and bring me a gelato di limone, fragola e crema!"


Obelix ignores the Roman, because he couldn't ever obey the orders of a man in skirt.


The short and red-faced Roman general gets extremely furious with the fat and disobedient Gaul, and descending from the quadriga, he shouts:

"Tu non mi rispondi quando ti parlo, pezzo di merda?"

And rushes toward Obelix with a sword in his hand, to kill him much:

Obelix stops him in the air, like a fried egg or a meatball, and introduces Pompey in his enormous mouth of Gaul, devouring him with cuirass, caligae and toga; complete and intact:

from the vast stomach of Obelix, Pompey the Roman screams for help, to get out of that wet and obscure place, which is like a catacomb of flesh:

Obelix, el amigo doesn't let Pompey out of his belly
at least not for the moment.

Maybe later he'll vomit Pompey to let him go, but not yet.




Personage of the fictions, in 1,000 adventures he accompanied Asterix through Namur, the infested lands of the evil dwarves, the Belgae

and through Masturbalia and other vicinities of Catalunya, zones inhabited by the tremendous Gronchos, tribe of headhunters with prepuces of rubber and square heads like the German....






.... Or perhaps is Obelix, el amigo, just a digit, an oneiric merequetengue who walks his orotund humanity through this plane of existence?


"Hey... are you real, Obelisk, el amigo?" -I ask, atolondrado

"Or are you a bomba de papa?" -I add, alarmed

but he doesn't answer, in his nonmoving, dare one say stagnant posture.