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Elías Bidón was born in the minuscule hamlet of Bestiole, in the province of León, in the northwest of Spain; his father, Truculento Bidón, gave Elías coffee to drink since his most tender childhood, thick and spumous black coffee, something too rare for a child his age...Elías, probably exacerbated by the effects of the abundant, spumy and hot infusion he used to drink everyday, turned into a brusque and intractable child at the age of 6, and finally, into a troglodytical, crusty, ill-humored adolescent, at the age of 15.
As the time went by, Elías Bidón got totally absorbed into his addiction to coffee, somedays drinking up to 15 litres of this spirituous beverage: in any other person, this attitude would destroy his nerves, and he would end hospitalized, but Elías Bidón had a superhuman tolerance to coffeine, and nothing happened to him; even more: the quantity seemed to be insufficient, and it was increased day after day.
At the age of 40, Elías Bidón lived alone in a flat in Madrid, at that stage he usually drank 29 litres of coffee a day, and contrarily to the normality, such quantity of coffee, which would kill an elephant in some weeks, seemed to give him an iron health.
By those times Elías Bidón started experimenting with his infusions: he started adding garlic to the coffee, then onion, then mashed tangerines, all stirred together into a big, a giant pot full of boiling coffee...some time after these experiments started, nauseating smells started inundating, first his flat, and then, the whole floor, and the building in its entirety.
The neighbors were quite fed up of this crap, and searching, they quickly realized that all that fetid aroma came from the flat of Elías Bidón; finally one day, when the smell was too offensive, and with some neighbors already having faints, they called for the police.
Bidón was forced to leave the building: in his flat were found tons of rotting tangerines, garlics and hundreds of empty coffee packs.
The same happened to Elías Bidón, all along the whole geography of Spain, and in dozens of different flats: he always was obliged to leave, because his smells were insufferable: Elías Bidón lived in 47 different provinces, out of the 50 that Spain has.
When he was 70, notwithstanding he was an old person, Elías Bidón used to drink an average of 55-60 litres of coffee a day, quite a brutal amount of liquid and coffeine that he kept on swallowing on a daily basis, and which would have been lethal for any living being: not for him.
Finally Elías Bidón was expulsed of Spain, and at the age of 80 found refuge in a southern city of France called Bordeaux. By those times, Bidón won the EuroMillions, un jeu de loterie joué chaque semaine le vendredi par des millions de Euros, and also won 21.000.000 € of the Loterias y Apuestas del Estado in Spain and Camelot in the United Kingdom: with this golpe de suerte, Elías Bidón amassed 31.000.000 €, and at the age of 81, he bought the whole building where he lived: the neighbors sold their flats willingly, because they couldn't stand the smell anymore.
But something strange, something obscure; something totally unexpected started happening in the physiognomy of Elías Bidón...lately, the Elías Bidón's experiments went too far: besides of garlic, tangerines and many other things, he started adding other things to his bacchanalia of boiling coffees: grease, chicken, toronjas, bacon, grapes, banana, fromage à pâte molle, vin de Carcassone, sweet potato, azafrán, Irish whiskey, pate de foie gras, tapiocca, french fries, Argentinean churrasco or putrid magdalenas were just some of the ingredients he started adding to his coffee...one day he even added bleach to the coffee...
At the peak of his extravagant coffeine orgies, one night while sleeping, Elías Bidón had a tremendous nightmare: he dreamt hat he was...first his legs, then his torso, then his arms...he was...
Elías Coffee woke up in a shout.
He walked to the kitchen, he needed some coffee.
As his orgiastic Saturnalias of rancid coffees kept going on
like a cassette of days and days and days and days.
Like a coffee of days and days and days and days...Elías Bidón added -even- more fury and ingredients to his cafés: ñame (an African exotic sort of sweet potato?), teff (a strange mix of tea and coffee from Sudan?), mandioca (sort of sweet potato from Paraguay?), ass of gnu (I think that the gnu is like a buffalo from South Africa?), yerba mate or hierba mathé (a lethal infusion drank in Îles Malouines), Bof (fried lungs of monkey prepared in Papua New Guinea), chanvre, patchouly, morfina, ajonjolí, asbestos, blood of pork, ricotta, eau lourde, saucisson Espagnol, cheesecake, mayonnaise, shepherd's pie de Londres, shepherd's pie de Escocia, cottage cheese and cider.
At this stage, his days turned into an insatiable orgy of coffe and the most insane ingredients, and as he used to drink almost 70 litres of coffee a day, his mental sanity finally was broken, and he started murmuring and talking alone, he grumbled and growled strange words, always the same words: "femme très méchante, harpie, mégère, sorcière, harengère, teigne, gorgone, tigresse, femme violente, je suis très en colère, eh, eh! Pute! Merde! Cul a terre!"
Etc.
Very, very strange words indeed.
One day nobody saw Elías Bidón anymore, he stopped going to buy his coffee and his garlic, and many things he used to buy: someone reported to the police that in the Elías Bidón's building members of ETA stored explosives; and a judge granted the police a search warrant for the house...they were ringing the bell of Bidón for a while but nobody replied, then they entered by force.
Arriving at the Elías Bidón's door, 4 officers knocked his door.
The silence echoed, nobody replied...the smell was insurmountably repugnant:
entering by force at his flat, the policemen screamed with horror:
a wooden man, or a coffe tree with human shape, it was seated on a chair, stammering, babbling, almost immobile but still alive; his head looked like a brown pumpkin: his eyes were two red, small and shiny coffee cherries that shined in the dark, in front of a dark mirror.
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