The warm southern meet

When I got off the train, two people grabbed me by the arms and led me somewhere.

"Why?" I asked.

"There will be explained."

"Where are you taking me?"

"There you will know," the answer was.

A colonel of the National Liberation Army sat at the table.

"Who is the organizer?" He asked.

"Sazon," I answered.

I was hit with a club from behind.

"Ay! Don't hit! I'll sign everything!"

"So it would be right away," the colonel pushed the interrogation protocol towards me.