"THE PARTY ANTHEM THAT GOT ME DEPORTED"
Goa. Full moon. The bass drop hits just as the police floodlights sweep the beach.
You're barefoot, wearing nothing but swim trunks and a police cap at a jaunty angle, leading 30 strangers in a conga line away from the rave. "¡Dale mami, dame más gasolina!" blares from someone's dying Bluetooth speaker as you're all herded into the back of a truck.
The Twist:
You thought the story ended with your "voluntary deportation" stamp. Until last Saturday, when your cousin's wedding DJ dropped the remix. Security footage shows you reenacting the handcuff maneuver with a tablecloth at 3AM.
Flashback Montage:
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Doing tequila shots off a passport (not yours)
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Explaining "cultural exchange" to very unamused officers
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The group chat that still uses "Gasolina Survivors '19"
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