When Jorge moved to the city he imagined that his band would be welcomed with open arms. No sooner had he settled into his new home, when he found himself facing the ire of his neighbors. Although his understanding of english was limited, he gathered from the nasty looks and notes slipped under his front door that the other residents of 152 Park Avenue did not appreciate hearing the band practice until the wee hours of the morning. During a special session, the co-op board enacted a bylaw forbidding the playing of mariachi music. The board had Mr. and Mrs. Feldman's Dominican cleaning woman, Esmeralda explain to Jorge that either he cease his at-home rehearsals with the band or face significant fines. The ruling struck Jorge as a supreme act of hypocrisy. Why was his music considered a blight when the incessant yapping of owners' small dogs went uncontested? The question provoked an idea in Jorge's mind that in turn sparked an action. All that was required was a simple bribe to the building's dog walker.

That evening just about the time residents were sitting down to dinner, Jorge found himself up on the roof uncapping a giant jar that held his neighbors' menagerie of toy-size breeds. Bending over the main intake of the building's air conditioning system, Jorge released the dogs into the air ducts. He could hear their tiny claws clicking against the galvanized metal ductwork somewhere in the dark ahead of him. 'Do your worst, my little amigos!' thought Jorge with wicked glee. Moments later yapping commenced and was amplified and transmitting through the entire building. Jorge stood up from his crouch, raised his arms to the sky and laughing called out "Maybe there are worse things in this world than mariachi music my neighbors!"

Two hours later the law was voided, the dogs returned to their rightful owners and Jorge free to rehearse with his band again.