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For a brief period, BEAST publisher Paul Fallon decided to cut costs through the employment of undocumented workers. The project was soon cancelled when Fallon realized that illegal immigrants weren’t willing to work for the meager pay than domestic BEAST staffers receive. We asked one of these temporary editors, who went on to further success, to relate his memories. When I feers to meeten Meester Paul [Fallon], I wuss a supposeen to work on thee strobeddy fahm. To peeck tha’ strobeddy. Me llamo Jaime . My moother, she sendses me to Ameddiga, to peeck thee beddies and to mage thee mooney. To send eet bag to my country, sos my familia gan buyses brayd and cheecken. But Meester Paul, I sees heem woon day, ovare by thee troocks weeth all thee peeckers. He pools oop een hees nize acar: a Bee Em Doobleyoo. He walkses ovare to me and he sayza, “I know how you gan mage mooch bayter mooney than thees, workeen only a leetle beet oof thee tine.” I wuss astunned to heered thees. Meester Paul, he askses me, “Wouldeen you lige to do thees eeasy work, Jaime? Eets mooch bayter than peeckeen beddies.” “Oh, yes,” I says, shakeen my cabesa. “Veddy much, Meester Paul. Eet soundses wondarefool.” I open hees acar and then I sees all of thees noospayperses evereeware. There ees no ware for mee to seet downed een thee car. “Oh, thot’s joosta tha Bees’,” Meester Paul sayza. “Just pusheeng them ovare,” he sayza to me. Then, he sayza, “You lige noospayperses?” I tell heem I don’t know nootheeng aboud noospayperses. “I ganno reed or wride nootheeng, Meester Paul. Ees thees a prooblen?” I ask heem. I wussa veddy sod aboud eet. “Oh, no, not at all!” heesa yelleeng and laffeeng to me. “Don’t woddee about eet at all, Jaime.” I wussa so hoppee to heeren heem sayza thot to me. Heeza keeps on laffeeng on the ride teel we gets to hees houze. I wussa leetle scaresed by thot. But I don’ts woddee—Meester Paul, he seemses so nize. Ot leest, thot’s ees whot I theenkeen then. Boot veddy soon, Iyen learneeng whot eet ees really lige to worg ot thee Bees’. Meester Paul, he breengses me to hees awfeez to worgs weeth all thee oother Bees’ worgers. Boot, eet wussa craysee for heem to sayz we should mage thees noospayperses. Noboody worgeen at the awfeez speakses eeny Eengleesh! En’ one of Meester Paul’ses worgers wussa noot eben a ghumeen peersoon. He hos a horse worgeen there! Joos’ lige Caleegula! “But Meester Paul,” I sayz to heem, “How gan we mage a noospayperses weethoud knowseen thee Eengleesh?” Meester Paul, hees astoop heesa smileen for the feers tine seence he peeks me oop in hees car. Hees gets veddy ongree and rolls hees ojos en’ sayz, “Thot’s noot my prooblen!” “Boot Meester Paul,” Iyen pleeden weeth heem, “I don’t know nootheen abou’ poleeteecal sottire!” “Stopeen your beetcheen,” he sayz to me. “Thees ees all you needeen to know.” And he throwses a beeg bog of morreewhana at oos. Tha’ horse, hees a starteen to wheeny weeth playjor. Then, Meester Paul, heesa slameen tha’ dor shoot. “You goota two weegs!” hees shouteen behine tha’ door. For two weegs, Iyen worgeen weeth all thee oother peopleses, eeben though they don’ speekeen what Iyen speekeen. En’ I no speekeen whoot they wussa speekeen. We smokeen all tha’ morreewhana een a few hourses. Tha’ res’ oof tha’ tine, we tryeen to mage a foony noospayperses. Eggsep for the horse—hees a coompleetly stoneen. He wheenyeen the whole tine. En’ he getteen tha’ moonchies from the morreewhana and he spends all hees tine eeteen tha’ carpeteen en’ our shoelazes en’ shoeses. I hof to walg aroun’ weeth barefootses begoss oof thot horse. Two weegses ees goeen by so fost! Boot I no’ sleepeen o’ nootheen. I worgeen so hard to learn Eengleesh en’ sottire. When we feeneesh our worgeen, we wussa oll so proud oof whoot we hod doone. We hod mageen so moony joges abou’ stoopeed Ameddeegens. We mageen foon oof oother coontrees and magen oop craysee stories abou’ how they threateneen Ameddeegens. ‘Speshully Orob coontrees. We preetendeen thot lyeen poleeteeshuns sayzing thot coontrees are goeen to attock Ameeddeecka weeth gian’ meesulls. And thot peebles ees goeen to die from oll kine oof teddeeble deeseeses. Eet wuss sooch foony stoof! We wussa soo hoppee! Meester Paul, he coome to tha’ awfeez when tha’ tine ees oop. He oonlocka tha’ door en’ we squeenten from all oof tha’ light thot coomes een. Meester Paul, he lookses lige a gian’ shoddow een tha’ door. We wussa leetle scareses ot feers, oonteel we adjoost our ojos. When we sees eet ees Meester Paul, we weere eggsited to show heem the noospayperses we hod mageen. We honded heem thee eesue en’ we waiteen for heem to starten smileen. Boot, Meester Paul, he dooeseen smileen et oll. He ees lookeen at the paginas, turneen them en’ reedeen so fost en’ getteen veddy ongry. We oll weer becoomeen escared oof heem. Soodeenly, hees throween tha’ noospayperses to thee groun’. We wussa sheevereen weeth feer. “You eedeeots!” Meester Paul wuss shouteen. “You doon’ writeen sottire—you writeen tha’ New Yorg Tines!” “Boot Meester Paul! Plees,” I wuss beggeen heem. “How we writeen’ tha’ New Yorg Tines? We just mageen thees oop. We doon’ eben know how to reedeen tha’ New Yorg Tines!” “Get out!” Meester Paul wuss yelleen. “Get out, oll oof you! I doon’ eber won’ to see you agayn!” We oll roonneen out thee door. Boot before I goeen, Iyen grob a coopee oof tha’ noospayperses. Later, when I hod stoppeen to catcheen my breaths, I remembereen whot Meester Paul has a sayzeen abou’ tha’ New Yorg Tines. I taygeen my coopee oof tha’ Bees’ en’ I osk how I gan get to where tha’ Tines ees. Thot wuss a long years ago. Seence thot tine, I hove wreeteen moony Eengleesh wordses for tha’ New Yorg Tines. I hove wreeteen moony bookses en’ been on moony talkeeng shows. I hove becoome famoos all ober thee mundo. You hove probably been reedeen my wordses een tha noosapayperses for so moony yearses. Boot tooday, I gooen by a veddy deeferen’ name thon when I was peeckeen strobeddies and writeen for tha’ Bees’. Iyen no longer useen tha’ name Jaime, no for a long tine. Today, I am knoween to tha’ world as Tomas de Friedameen.
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