Is Señor Misterioso an extremely dangerous
man or just a harmless socialite in a glowing suit? He has inexplicably become entangled in all the major events in the last half of the 20th century and nobody is sure just how much he knows.

The Fans and Connections:
His motives are unclear, but there is documentation of meetings with extraterrestrials, Howard Hughes, George Steinbrenner, J.D. Salinger, Chuck Norris, David P. Reinhardt and Pee Wee Herman. Photos have shown him leaving the White House late at night, but records of his visits cannot be found. He once had lunch with Jack Nicholson at Pink’s, although Mr. Nicholson’s agent fervently denies this. Of course, there are internet cults that worship him.

The Unexplainable:
He has a Costco membership, but is not a member of the AAA even though they offered him his first year free. It is said his fee for product endorsement would be record breaking. He has declined a blank check offer from Hollywood for the movie rights to his life and Publisher’s Clearing House says he is a million dollar winner, but the prize money remains unclaimed.

The Suit:
He has never been seen without his well-tailored linen suit and fedora. The function of his suit is a mystery, as is its unusual luminescence. The Men's Wearhouse has engaged its finest private detectives to obtain the secret of the suit to no avail. Many believe that the suit allows him to vanish into thin air, as if stepping in or out of another dimension. In some circles, the elimination of Señor Misterioso and his atomic suit is of the utmost priority; to others, he is a sought-after dinner speaker, even more so than Henry Kissinger.
Who is he? Why is he here? And who trims that impressive mustache?


Read the accounts below of real people and their amazing Señor Misterioso stories and the incredible powers of his glow-in-the-dark figure!!!

'My eyes drifted over to the cute little squirrel on the 2000 Archie McPhee Calendar. I have named him "Nutty".

"Hey, Nutty, what's up?" I asked him, knowing full well that he wouldn't answer, because he is only a picture of a squirrel. But that makes him good company. To my shock, though, he failed to cheer me in his usual way. In the upper right-hand corner of Nutty's picture lurked a smug, sinister-looking Mr. Mysterioso! Had he been there all along? Had he stealthily just materialized, like a surprise winner in an American election? Who can say.

It just strikes me as odd that in the same few days since I noticed his presence, the 8-track player has gone blooey, my inflatable chair won't hold air, and the Elvis phone rings randomly, and when I answer it no one is there! The only sound I hear is an odd, Latin-sounding beep. I was stymied.

The calendar hangs in my room at this moment, for I dread the implications of taking it down. Will I incur worse wrath if I do take it down? Will the situation continue to degrade if I leave the calendar hanging? Do I dare to eat a peach? No. I cannot delcare my intentions. I will wait to
see the worst.'

In fear,
Kevin R.


'Now I know I'm not alone...
Last fall I discovered an online nursey I had never heard of before. their prices were amazingly low, so I took a chance and ordered the giant grab-bag-o-bulbs.

The next morning there was a burlap bag on my front porch with dirt and roots sticking out of rips and holes. I heard a low-pitched humming... I even seemed to feel it in my fillings! I opened the bag and was surrounded by a horrible yet oddly fascinating stench. when my eyes stopped watering I saw that instead of an assortment, there appeared to be one massive bulb made up of convoluted roots and tubers. I thought I saw it quivering with a pulse like motion, but when I poked it with a stick it stilled. I backed away from the stench, and from a distance it almost appeared to be humanoid in shape.

So, I figgered, what the hey... lets plant it. I cleared a a patch of soil on the north side of my house, and dragged the monstrosity in. when I covered it with dirt the humming stopped, and my teeth quit vibratin.

I forgot about it over the winter.

In march I went to get in my pickup, and tripped over sumthin in the driveway. it was a tendril coming round from the north side of the house. I followed it back to the source, and there was a huge plant crawling up the side of my house. It was already in bloom, and the scent from the oddly familiar flowers was overwhelmingly funky. I squinted at them, and lo ann behold I recognized Señor Misterioso. the plant was covered with little señors, and as I stared they all opened their eyes and looked at me.

Suddenly I realized that the next day at work I had this overwhelming urge to spit in each tv dinner on the conveyor belt before i sealed the cover.

And so it began.

Now everyday when I get home from the factory I stand in front of him and wait for my orders.

I hope he aint mad at me for sharin my story with ya. I'll see what he says tomorrow.'


Melissa P.

'More rum, extranjero? Forgive me if my hands shake; the rum is the only thing that permits me to sleep at night, because of Misterioso. Mi esposa is bringing us desayuna now. There she is, the large and hairy one. Old, too, like my grandmother, but we love each other, in our own way. When I first met her I thought she was a man.

It was ten long years ago that I first met the mysterious man in white, on the Camino Perdidos de los Toros. I did not drink then as I do now; perhaps one Cerveza de la Orina Enfermo del Hombre during the hottest days of the summer, but no more, unless it was a Saturday night. I laughed with the senoritas then, and danced until the sky glowed fiery with the dawn, and the senoritas glowed fiery with desire and transpiración. Ah, to be a young, sweaty man once more!

That is when el hombre que brilla intensamente del juego entered my life. He said nothing at first, merely smiling, as if the dusky maidens curled sleepily upon the floor of establecimiento el beber de mi tío were of no interest to him. No, he was not un amante de hombres o de burros; he was simply beyond such things, as were the angels God sent to Lot in Sodom and Gomorrah.

"Buen día, Paco", he greeted me, touching the brim of his hat, which glowed brillantemente y misterioso. For the moment, I forgot to wonder how this man could know my name. "You might wish to try another cerveza; perhaps La Cerveza de la Orina Sano del Hombre would suit you better." I jumped as the camarero popped the cap from a lukewarm bottle and thudded it down in front of me. Before I could swallow the first tangy, salty mouthful, Señor Misterioso was gone. Though I drank the beer down, it did not go easily at all, and I could tell that the camarero thought the less of me for trying. Next Sunday, el hombre misterioso en blanco was sitting in the village square, feeding melcochas to the ardillas; he greeted me and asked me about the beer he had recommended. I thought to tell him that I preferred my other cerveza, but somehow, the warm eyes, the bland smile, the neatly-trimmed bigote, and above all, el blanco juego... I would have been unmanned by that, extranjero, and I think any other man would have also felt that way. So, I now drink La Cerveza de la Orina Sano del Hombre, which I do not enjoy, and with every sip of the briny stuff a tiny amount of torment enters my soul.

I saw him a year later, just before my wedding. He stood before the bridal wagon, his dark bigote trimmed and combed neatly. He touched the brim of his hat as he approached the door of the capilla, but I never saw him go in. When I was inside, I did not see him there, either. My corazón thudded like a blacksmith's hammer, when that blacksmith has too much work to do and the hour of sunset approaches; also, the blacksmith has been drinking too much coffee. Was mi novia Carmencita not worthy of me? Perhaps Señor Misterioso been trying to warn me of her unfaithfulness; perhaps, even now, she bore inside her womb the child of another man; perhaps she was even encargado sucia de una casa. I ran from the church before my disgrace could become apparent to all within. Never did I see them again, and many of them owed me money.

I sold my wedding suit for thirty dollars, and picked up aluminum cans and glass bottles alongside the road to make my way; also, I sold a burro which was not mine. Let me make it clear that I am not proud of that. Later I was to think I should have ridden it first, but by then many months had passed. By then also my shoes were gone, and I was drinking the rum in this very taberna, on Isla en donde los turistas pasan demasiado dinero. My drink was El Agua en la Cual los Toros Asquerosos se Bañan, not a fine rum, but one I grew to enjoy, here in la taberna en donde todos sabe su conocido.

For many years I thought I had seen the last of Señor Misterioso, and I came to realize that my life was not yet over. I found myself in love once more, with Señora Gomez. True, my Lupita is not the beauty my little Carmencita was, but she does not bring the hambre de los ojos to other men, either. Nor to me. However, she cleans the casa better than Carmencita probably would have, and even brings me desayuno when I have been drinking the rum all night. More huevos, extranjero? Or perhaps one of the fat little perritos that she makes herself?

It is funny, now, extranjero... I had not seen Misterioso all these years, and then, just ten days before you showed up, he was here, on this very Isla. I was betting on las cucarachas el luchar, and my Pepito was in fine form that day. I reached behind me for my rum, the El Agua en la Cual los Toros Asquerosos se Bañan that I love so, and in the corner of my eye there was a man dressed in a suit so white that the nubes must appear to be soiled like mi esposa's velo. Suddenly, the rabia that had built up within me for years came boiling up within me, like the enfermedad de la mala lechuga. Given the chance to confront my tormentor, I whirled about, ready to make him pay for all the beers I had not enjoyed.

However, the warm chocolate of his eyes were my undoing. Rabia was replaced with suave la alegría, and he grinned at me below his bigote. Even his teeth gleamed with the same mágica brillantez as his suit, so unlike the falsos dientes of my querida esposa, which sit in the cristal de agua by her side of the bed. Suddenly, all the salty cerveza which I had drunk for many years seemed to be as nothing. I knew that soon I would remember all my anger, but in the presence of the mysterious man who gleamed like the angels, such thoughts and feelings were not possible.

"Buen día, Paco", he greeted me, touching the brim of his hat, just as he had all those years ago. I recalled that he had known my name when first we met, back in . "You might wish to try another rum; perhaps el Agua en la Cual Bañan un Pocos Ganados
would suit you better."

What could I do? To refuse him would be to reveal to mis sudorosos amigos that I was no man, that I was like the little dog who barks loudly to prove he is a man, the one the Americanos call El Chihuahua. I heard the gurgle of the oily fluid, and the camarero banged the glass down on the bar. Before I could taste the rum, which I knew would be a disappointment to me, Señor Misterioso had vanished. Since then, extranjero, these ten long days, I have not been able to sleep unless I drink the rum all day. And like the cerveza, I swallow much bitterness with the rum.

Does not mi grande y melenuda esposa have a fine mustache? In a way, it reminds me of the bigote of el hombre que brilla intensamente del juego. Funny, I never noticed this until ten days ago, and we have shared our mantas for many years. The huevos are gone, extranjero; however, we can split this final perrito if you are still hungry. No? The more for me, then.'


Guy H.

I don't know if I can attribute everything strange that has occurred to me since Señor Misterioso appeared in my life, but this I can be sure of: I'm keeping him sealed in his package to protect the world from further bizarre events.

My friend, Linda, surprised me at work one day in September 2000. It was then when I received an interoffice envelope from her containing one Señor Misterioso. I was frightened and curious at the same time. I decided I would keep him at my cube here at work.

Since that time our company stock hit an all-time low, A-Rod left the Mariners for $252 million, and we got shaken (not stirred) by a 6.8 earthquake on Ash Wednesday.

Coincidence?? I think not.

Patrick A.