Amor Asqueroso

Escenario 1
(Submitted by P. Suave)


A sunburned mariachi saunters down the street. His haggard looking donkey trails behind him. He pauses in front of the office of Montage, a talent management company. The mariachi reads over the building directory posted next the the building entrance.
He ties his burro to the no parking sign, enters the building. He removes his sombrero, revealing an egg-white bald spot topping his pink face, and azure eyes that give away his European lineage  .
He approaches the receptionist, the former Linoleum Queen of Lick Skillet, PA, a town known for its linoleum production.  

Gringo Mariachi
I am Pepino Suave. I am a Mariachi. I am here to see the bastard William Ferrell. He stole my movie concept. He should prepare to die.
Big Busted Secretary
I am sorry, Mr. Suave. Mr. Ferrell is on location for his next film. How can I help you?
She looks at her reflection in the blank computer monitor, adjusting her eyeliner with a pinkie finger
Gringo Mariachi
You can not help me. This is not women’s work. A man steals from another man, he must prepare to die. I demand an audience with the bastard-son-of-a-puta Ferrell!
The young, full figured receptionist reaches back behind her head with her right hand, the side she preferred to use when mixing linoleum cement back home, and swings it 180 degrees full-force, meeting the Gringo Mariachi’s sun burned left cheek with all the power of a former small town talent show champion. The Gringo Mariachi’s head swings hard to the right. He puts a hand to the blazing flesh and looks off camera for five full seconds. He slowly looks up at the vivacious secretary.
Gringo Mariachi
Ouch! Mami, that hurt! Why did you do that, little flower? Have I offended you?
The curvy office help stands up, eyes swollen and red from crying, and points directly at the dusty intruder. She yells:
Big Busted Secretary
Yes! Yes you have! Is it not women’s work to ask a man if he needs help?!  Is it not women’s work to spend three hours fixing oneself up in order to be presentable? Is it not? IS IT NOT?!!!!!
Hysterical, the secretary crosses her arms over her very ample chest and collapses, racked with sobs, her mascara dripping down her face. The Gringo Mariachi holds his sombrero nervously in his hands, at loss for words…but never at a loss for Mariachi-style chivalry.  He throws his dusty sombrero to the floor, and leaps over the counter. Grabbing the secretary in his arms, he gently wipes errant mascara from her creamy skin with the thumb of a calloused hand.
Mariachi Gringo
You must not cry, my flower. I mean you no harm. It is just that I must kill your employer, the evil William Ferrell, Hijo de la Gran Puta. He stole my movie concept. He must prepare to die.
The voluptuous secretary looks up into the Gringo Mariachi’s crinkly little eyes, and holds a teary-eyed gaze that would make a Sandra Bullock cry-scene seem plastic. She does that looking from one crinkly eye to the next crinkly eye, then to the chin thing that has a neat affect. Her voice full of mucous and emotion, she sputters:

Big Busted Secretary
Prepare to die?
Gringo Mariachi
Yes, my little dulce, the pinche Ferrell must prepare to die.
Big Busted Secretary
Gringo Mariachi
But what, my remolancha?
The big breasted secretary turns to the camera, still gripped in the arms of the skinny, balding mariachi.
Cue organ music:
Big Busted Secretary
I am carrying Mr. Ferrell’s baby!
Big busted secretary buries her head into the gringo mariachi’s bony chest. Organ music goes steroidal, as the camera cuts to the Gringo Mariachi, his face twisted into a tortured mass of wrinkles, showing all the anguish and loneliness of a former mariachi-turned-public- school-teacher. His loyal donkey brays in the background.
Cut to commercial.
End Escenario 1:  Amor Asqueroso

El Famoso Mariachi Gringo
Nuestro Protaganista/Ensayista

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