While I split you and Diego in two on the Fritos and the broken-hearted egg, at least I left you on the same side of the paper. Even enchiladas divorciadas share the same plate.
But the Mexican government now has you and Diego residing on flip sides of the paper. Your old friend Trotsky would be quite shocked to see you both there, sternly staring back from opposite sides of Banco de Mexico’s 500-peso note.
Perhaps, through careful origami folds, you can be discreetly reunited in the pockets and wallets of millions throughout the country.