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There was a time when the three partners of Los Bagels were not partners at all, but accidental traveling companions in quite an interesting adventure. The three were youngish men and each had his own reason for traveling in the Yucatan. Peter, Paul and Dennis met on the dock of a small town (pop. 54) located on a small island (2 sq. miles) in the middle of the Rio Loco.
Dennis left the States hounded by unpaid parking tickets, promising him several nights in jail. He planned to go to Mexico and gather parrots to sell at highly inflated prices back home, in order to clear his good name. And so he found himself with three beautiful handcrafted cages and no parrots. After two months of canoeing and camping and searching he was discouraged.
Paul knew the area well and was, in fact, daydreaming of building a home on the riverbank opposite the dock. He often vacationed in Mexico and was very conscientious, observing local customs and remembering the birth date of everyone he met, who might someday be a potential neighbor. Paul had arrived in town earlier on the weekly mail boat, and was on the dock to leave town in the same fashion.
Peter worked at Club Med miles away and had taken a boatload of guests on an unfortunate excursion which involved capsizing in a storm (not unlike Gilligan's Island). Although he was not the captain, he felt very responsible. Peter was swept solo downstream, wearing an orange life vest, which he traded for six shots of tequila once he had struggled out of the water and into the bar of the tiny town. He too was waiting for the mail boat when along came Dennis.
Dennis, tired of his own company, offered Paul and Peter a ride and thus their adventure began.
Paul had heard of the Chanaco before but hadn't believed until that minute. He leaned in to tell the others of the legendary creature that led people into madness. Very few returned after crossing its path, and those who did were now crazed babbling fools. He recommended they stay close to the fire, which was dying down. The noises bounced off trees and rocks, first a giggle then a shriek. It could sound like one and then a hundred. Peter couldn't take it anymore. He picked up the dinner he'd dropped in fright and heaved it into the darkness. Dennis picked up a bagel and socked it into the air. Pretty soon the three were waging a full-scale food fight with their anonymous enemy, the effort seemed to brace their nerves. THEN, oddly, the noises stopped. There was the distinct sound of munching in the night.
Peter picked a thick branch out of the fire and waved it into a torch. Under a shrub, not far away, was an animal the size of a small armadillo. It had scales, almost webbed feet, a large flat tail, a big snout and enormous eyes. It snickered over it's stash of bagels, and when the bagels were gone it advanced, tail wagging like a dog's, begging for more. And so the three conquered the Chaneco, still known among them as "the creature."
The people in the next town believed their harrowing tale (which might be due to the great quantities of tequila they bought and shared) and on the rest of their journey, mysteriously enough, the nickname they were given preceded them: Los Bagels. It was only natural when the partnership came to pass that they make the creature a symbol of their thriving bagel business. So now you know the real story.