He was the luckiest man in the world.

Rico M— sat on a plush king-size bed in a posh hotel room somewhere in Las Vegas—wearing tiger print underwear and a big fat grin.

A woman divine stood before him, a true Helen of Troy. The goddess playfully pushed him back onto two fluffy pillows. She licked her lips and smiled. Rico was in heaven, or about to be.

He looked at goddess with desire in his eyes, then he did a double take. Her face began to stretch, her teeth became jagged; her nose elongated to a snout, and her face became covered with hair. She looked like a dog—a Chihuahua.

The room began to spin. The bed trembled and Rico clung to it as he were on a runaway roller coaster. Howls and growls along with a red glow emanated from floor. The face of the goddess went from dog to demonic dragon with longs fangs and blood-red eyes.

Rico felt the monster's breath on his face. He tried to crawl away, but the dragon grabbed him. Its claws tore into his back and fangs came out ready to bite.

***

He shuddered awake, drenched in sweat. He looked around. Wondering where he was. It had been a dream; a nightmare he wanted to forget. And though he was still wearing tiger print underwear, there was no beautiful goddess and no posh hotel room. Instead, he was in a run-down room at the Bangkok Motel.

He found Toto, his wife's puppy toy chihuahua, licking his feet. The dog was the size of rat. He looked at it square in the eyes; the dog growled and tried to bite his finger.

"Respect," Rico said, and he put the dog down. He looked in the mirror and amazed himself.

He was lucky. He'd been lucky all his life. Never had to work for anything. He was blessed by the gods. He had looks. Opportunities just fell into his lap. He was always at the right place at the right time; he always ran into the most fortunate people. He'd married the most beautiful girl in the world, Sunny Bunny. He had movie deals and other deals. All he had to do was sit back and enjoy the ride. But he wasn't happy.

His brother Hector called. The first words out of his mouth were,"Lucky, lucky lucky." Rico hated it. It was like nails on a chalkboard. Hector was serving time for deal gone bad. Rico being lucky had walked away clean. He went to Hollywood. His luck landed him in commercials, then a movie called Break Out--which unlike its name, was a big flop.

There had always been bad blood between Rico and Hector. Rico never felt he got the respect he deserved. Hector never gave it because Rico never worked for anything. He got everything easy. It's why his movie had bombed. Rico might have all the opportunities in the world, but once he gets them, he doesn't have the talent to see them through.

But now Rico had a new deal.

"Bigger than anything you ever put together, and I did it all on my own," said Rico.

He'd stumbled onto glass figure of a carp at a Hollywood party and then learned that hotel tycoon T'oro Mitsubishi, owner of the Pearl Hotel and Casino, wanted to buy it. Rico went to see him and made the deal.

"So let me get this straight," said Hector. "You got a million dollar deal with one of the richest men in the world, T'oro Mitsubishi. He's going to pay you a million dollars for a statue of a fish?"

"Yeah," said Rico. "Can you believe it? I'm going to be a millionaire."

Hector started laughing -- a laugh that was meant to insult, to cut, to punch, to wound. He laughed so hard he couldn't breathe. He started to choke. Rico started to join in the laughter, but couldn't figure out what was so funny. Finally, it dawned on him that Hector was laughing at him.

"Lucky, Lucky, Lucky. You're the luckiest man alive. You always get these great opportunities, then you fuck it up. This guy Mitsubishi has billions. I would have talked him into paying ten million or twenty million. He probably uses a million dollars just to blow his nose. He saw you for the sucker you are and played you," said Hector.

Hector started laughing again.

"Respect," said Rico. He hung up and threw the phone at the wall in a fit of anger. Startled by the noise, Toto came out from under the bed and bit him on the foot. Rico yelled in pain. he picked up the dog. He was so mad at Hector, he wasn't thinking. He threw the dog against the wall. Toto landed on the ground with a whimper. Rico went to it and saw it lifeless.

"Oh no, Toto ... I didn't mean to do it."

He couldn't believe what he'd done. A rage had come over him. His brother had gotten deep into his core, he always did. He hated Hector. He was glad he was in jail; let him rot there. Whether he deserved it or not.

For once in his life, Rico was free of his brother telling him what to do, running his life, planning everything out. Now Rico was in charge. He could do what he wanted. He had everything under control.

Rico picked up Toto. The dog wasn't breathing. It eyes were closed. It was his wife's dog. She loved it like a child. He realized he had to get rid of the body. If there was one thing he knew, from watching Scarface and all those cop shows, was that a dead body was evidence. Evidence proved a crime, but if there was no evidence, then there was no crime. He thought about what he should do with Toto, then he remembered what his father used to do with his dead hamsters.

Rico went to the bathroom and flushed the rat sized dog. It was small enough. They had power toilet. Toto disappeared into the dark hole of nothingness. Flushed down. All the way down. All problems forgotten. Down to Wonderland. Rico shook his head.

"Now what am I going to tell Sunny?"