I discovered yesterday that Kiwicha, the name bestowed upon me by the children of the orphanage, is actually a type of cereal. It's white, tiny, light as air, with a popcorn kind of texture. No wonder they like me. They shout out my name in the morning as soon as I arrive. “¡Kiwicha! ¡Kiwicha!” And frequently throughout the day too.
Juan Carlos was warning me that I'd be eaten if I wasn't careful. I didn't understand at first, but he demonstrated what he meant by eating his arm. It was only after I found out I was a popular kids' cereal that I knew what he really meant.
Noddy was wondering if I had met any people of the flesh-eating kind. Not yet, but the Kiwicha-eating kind might be just as dangerous.


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