Disclaimer: I don't own El Tigre. :(

"Manny!" I screamed, watching the boy hang for his life.

My eyes darted around the setting, looking for something to help my friend.

A rock.

No.

A goat.

No.

A puppy. Awww.

A rope.

Perfect!

I darted over to the material ad grasped it in my hands. I dashed toward the flag pole where Manny was hanging and began to lasso it above my head, hoping it wouldn't catch onto my goggles or anything else above me.

"Manny! Catch!" I warned before lassoing the rope up to him. I anticipated, soaked in adrenaline, my eyes locked on two things, (1) the rope, and (2) the slipping fingers of my dear amigo. Just as Manny begun to fall, the lasso caught hold of the boy.

Filled with the feeling of success, I reeled him in with one swift move of my arm. As soon as Manny was safely on the ground, I left out a sigh of relief.

"That was a close one." Manny said, his voice flooded with relief and exhaustion.

"Yea," I agreed. "That'll be the last time we try and make our own jetpacks!"

That was like my first El Tigre story, so it probably wasn't that good... It also doesn't help that I have writer's block at the moment (T_T). Man I hate that thing.

Hope you liked it! Tell me what you think by reviewing ;)

RBH