Amor Asqueroso

Escenario 2
(Written by:  Inky)
Outskirts of Town
Durango, Durango, Mexico
Fade In:   A dusty old saloon.  Focus in on the barkeep as she slowly wipes down the bar.  Clearly, her thoughts are elsewhere.  Only a few lonely cowboys are sitting in the saloon, tired from a hard day’s work on the rancho.  Four are seated at a table, three are at the bar.  
Small Breasted Raquelita
What will it be boys?  Another round?  asks the 40+ year-old tired barkeep in a monotone, uninspired voice
Random Cowboy at Bar
Si.
Ominous music begins to fade in.  Camera pans to bright blue saloon doors.  The image of black cowboy boots with spurs and faded jeans, can be seen below the doors.  A ten-gallon hat is in view above the doors.  An extra large, manly-man hand is placed on the left door.  Enter El Vaquero.  His left hand rests atop his holster.  In his right hand are two full, large, juicy, chalupas.
Small Breasted Raquelita
Her gasp is heard off camera.  Raul.
El Vaquero
Si. Responds the 40+ year old handsome Mexican cowboy with leathery skin.
Small Breasted Raquelita
You have returned.  Again, she shows no emotion.
El Vaquero
Si.
All in the bar remain silent and captivated.  Their eyes dance between Raquelita and El Vaquero.  El Vaquero takes two steps into the saloon.  The doors swing behind him.
El Vaquero
Raquelita, we need to speak…. in private.
Small Breasted Raquelita
This is private, Raul.  This is as private as I will get with you.  My trust for you exists no more.  She says showing some emotion in her voice for the first time and spitting on the dusty floor.
Enter a brown and white mutt of a dog with floppy brown ears.  The dog begins to yap, yap, yap at the Vaquero as he leaps in the air to munch on the chalupas.  El Vaquero’s chocolate eyes are reflected in the dog’s.  It is clear they are both angered.  Soon, the other cowboys in the bar stifle laughs as they observe the ring of urine the dog has left around El Vaquero.  Including a few drops directly on the rattle-snake skin boots.
El Vaquero
Raquelita, get this dog away before I shoot him.  he says as he shakes the urine from his boot in a very manly-man way.
Small Breasted Raquelita
Luna, vaya!  She shouts at the mutt as her azure eyes, revealing her European heritage, plead with the pup.  The dog slowly backs away looking suspiciously at El Vaquero.  The dog sits in the corner and whimpers.
El Vaquero
OK.  If that is how the game is now played.  I will speak to you in front of these strangers.  Raquelita, I am searching for a man I think you know.
Small Breasted Raquelita
Raul, you and I both know, I’ve known many men.  Her voice is now more angered.
El Vaquero
This is true.  But this man I speak of, I believe, is your brother… Pepino Suave.
Their eyes lock.  Organ music begins.
Small Breasted Raquelita
I have no brother.
El Vaquero
Raquelita, we both know you have many brothers.
Small Breasted Raquelita
This Pepino Suave you speak of, he is not my brother.
El Vaquero
I must find him.  I must kill him.  I must know.  Where is your brother, Pepino Suave, the bald Mariachi Gringo?  Tell me now, or you will die a public death by hanging.
Small Breasted Raquelita
I do not know this man!  She shrieks, now full of emotion as tears begin forming in her blue eyes.
Suddenly, the music crescendos as the camera closes in on Small Breasted Raquelita’s terrified eyes.  Hold for three seconds.  The music stops.  In the distance, a cock crows.  
All in the room gasp.
Cue Abdominales Poderosos commericial.
End Scene 2

Amor Asqueroso

Escenario 1
(Submitted by P. Suave)

FADE IN::
INT. SUNSET AVENUE, LOS ANGELAS, CALIFORNIA – MID DAY

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
But…
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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