“What a beautiful Havana morning, Diego. If only there was music in the cafés at night, I’d feel revolution in the air. Tell me, what’s on today’s agenda?”

“The workers have finished installing the satellite dish, and General Ricardo has already called three times. He sounds anxious, Fidel.”

“The general will have to be patient. Tell me, Diego, is the dish ready?”

“Yes, Fidel.”

“And it will clearly pick up the Yankee’s Columbia Broadcasting System at 8:00 p.m. tonight?”

“Si.”

“Think of it, Diego. Four people left on an island, but only one will walk away with the grand prize.”

“They even had to eat rats, Fidel.”

“Yes, their lot was not an easy one. But we’ve spent 40 years on our own island, marooned by the harsh reality of a concert embargo that has not allowed Queens Of The Stone Age nor Liquid Gang to play our shores. And the only prize we have is the collective hearts and minds of the people.”

“I really thought Sean was going all the way.”

“Bah! Nice guys finish last. Just look at what happened to Che Gueverra. No, Diego, one must be ruthless and ambitious to survive life on an island. One must be strong to go without Alan Jackson or Rita Coolidge.”

“Who do you think will win, Fidel?”

“My heart screams out for the truck driving señorita, Susan. Oh, how I would love to cruise down the interstate with her, listening to Chris Ledoux and Willie Nelson.”

“I’ve heard whispers that it might be Rudy.”

“The people’s choice is the ex Navy SEAL? I swear I’ve seen him before. Was he at the Bay of Pigs?”

“I do not know, Fidel.”

“No matter. Soon, the Yankees will pick a winner. Then they’ll all be off to concerts by Sting and Skid Row, while we are left to our sugar cane fields and cigars. Ah, life is unfair, Diego.”

“Yes, Fidel.”

“Tonight we shall see which contestant wins the TV network capitalist’s prize of one million dollars. I may be a Marxist, Diego, but I can’t help but think about all the concert tickets that would buy. Like UPO or Teenage Fanclub.”

“Or even KISS.”

“Soon we will know who the winner is. Diego, hold all my calls.”

“Even General Ricardo?”

“I suppose I will have to deal with him. Sigh… There’s never any rest for an aging despot.”

“When he calls, what should I tell him?”

“Tell him the revolution lives, Diego. Tell him that the will of the people will be done.”

“Yes, Fidel.”

“And Diego?”

“Yes, Fidel?”

“Tell him I accept his offer and I’ll put 200 pesos down on Richard.”

“The man who danced naked on his birthday?”

“Si, Diego. I can respect a free spirit such as himself. He was totally unashamed of the male body. Not unlike the Red Hot Chili Peppers at Woodstock.”

“Consider it done, El Presidente.”