Original subtitles

THE VlRGEN OF LUST

Tittie.

Tittie.

Pussy.

Pussy.

Tittie.

Pussy.

Pussy.

Ass.

Tittie.

Ass.

A man.

Pussy.

Brown-skinned.

Straight hair.

His rituals.

Straight hair.

Ruffled eyebrow.

His clientele.

The afternoons.

The nights.

His life flows...

a river...

Every day's the same

His rituals.

she...SHE

HER!

Passion runs loose

The Virgin of Holy Lust

She

Franco...

Kill Franco...

Franco must be killed.

Don't walk over the mopped part.

A while ago a damn whore muddied up the hall.

lt ain't fair...

Where's Gardenia?

Gardenia...

They told me he was here.

l gave them a big wad of bills so they'd tell me.

Get out of here.

lf you're found here, l'll get heat.

How'd you stay in here?

-And Gardenia? -You were told wrong.

Whores only pass through here before working.

No, no, not this one, lt's the boss's.

He marks the level. He notices everything.

Gardenia...

his name's Gardenia,

Gardenia Wilson.

Don't play dumb.

-The masked wrestler? -Exactly...

You're after a sissy?

A faggot,

well, a queer.

l say it because it's common knowledge:

When he enters the ring, he wears braids and a little girl's dress.

That sissy you're talking about,

fucked me like no one ever has.

Never before,

not now,

never again.

So much so that l won't forget him.

l have him stuck to my pussy,

and to my heart.

For once...

for once l get here early and l'm given a nasty surprise.

Phony, fraud, hypocrite...

How well you pretend when l get here later.

You gave her my aged brandy.

l smell it, idiot, l smell it.

One who was born with a silver spoon in his mouth,

has a fine sense of smell.

Solera de la Reina's your favorite.

Your fucking mother is my favorite...

My favorite...

is the brandy that l say is my favorite.

-You told me your favorite was... -Shut your trap.

Shut it, you damn bastard,

phony,

son of a bitch, half-breed.

You're such a peasant.

And if she threw up...

you're both going straight to jail.

Yeah, accused of stealing and...

and embezzlement.

-Embezzlement? -Embezzlement, idiot...

embezzlement and anything else l feel like.

lf you want to vent your anger, l'll give you the excuse.

l'll just throw up on you.

That way you take it out on me since l deserve it.

-He's got nothing to do with it. -Come here you.

Don't just stand there.

Don't go. Come here.

Come here.

Let go! Bastard!

Get in there!

-Lock it. -Open the door.

Let me out!

-l just found her here. -l know.

When will you ever have the dough for a foreign whore?

Then why do you take it out on me?

l pay you, l take it out on you.

But look...

l'm calm, l'm calm, so l won't take it out on you.

Mop the brandy stain...

with soapy water.

lf not, it'll dry out and stink badly.

The Ofelia is a cafe for conversation and cultured people.

-What about her? -l'll screw her...

-With the police? -No, for real.

She can pay the bribe with two blowjobs.

Better yet, l'll talk to lmmigration.

They're serious people.

She'll be in Salina Cruz tomorrow.

Destination: China.

-Listen, Don Lazaro -And you know why?

For being a republican.

They love to be martyrs

but as far as working, forget about it.

This one must have left Spain

when she smelled defeat, and came running.

Get dressed!

She's just odd.

How do you know she's Spanish?

Because l'm Spanish. l have the same blood.

-You were born here. -Yeah, yeah, l was born here,

but my blood's from there.

Ok, enough chitchat.

Know what?

One day l'll throw this damn ball in the garbage.

This is a cafe, not a dive. Why are you staring at it?

l look at it and it feels like Christmas.

The lndian's become a poet.

No wonder Cortez bought your souls with trinkets and glass.

Shiny things dazzle you.

Damn fatso,

you have lndian blood just like me.

Real lndian blood.

The boss is a real bastard.

He's calling lmmigration.

He doesn't mess around and he's set on it.

Says it's because you're a republican and he supports Franco.

l want to see Gardenia.

That's all l want. To see Gardenia.

That he see me die.

That way, l'll be stuck in his memory.

and he'll love me a little, just a bit.

Don't let me leave without Gardenia,

without getting him in my soul.

Life's funny...

To come to die in a garbage pit,

fucking life.

Fucking truth, huh?

Because l'm going to die in this pit, stuffed with opium and booze.

The Chinese revenge.

The yellow danger.

Touch, touch, touch...

Feel my death.

A death that caught me without him, without Gardenia,

Without his cock...

Tell fatso that l'm dying.

That l'm dying here on him...

to fuck up his life,

-to give him bad luck. -Be quiet.

You're dying, but you don't shut your mouth.

Get out of here.

lf lmmigration comes, the least they'll do is deport you.

They enjoy what they do to women.

To die somewhere else...

as it should be.

Each with his own sorrow...

Thanks anyway.

Go to 210...

it's a door with white glass.

Stay there until your soul settles.

What if it leaves me?

lf you feel bad, talk to Raquel. She's next door.

She'll take over.

Tell her l sent you.

Nacho.

Are you bringing me Gardenia, Nacho?

Anything you want, but go upstairs.

Because in cases like this, Don Lazaro warns and delivers.

Anything?

Anything l ask of you?

You'll give me anything l ask for?

Now you're trapped.

Didn't l tell you that life's a bitch?

lt's a bitch, and it's fucked,

like it should be.

l told you. lt's fixed.

Excuse me...

He already made a deal, the guys are going to have a surprise.

-Of course. -No doubt there was money involved...

lt's post time.

l'm treating Senator Horcasitas and his friends.

Bring my brandy, the one from the decanter.

-To your health. -Thanks, Don Lazaro.

Half rum, half Brandy.

All cats are grey in the decanter.

Hey!

-Where's your jacket? -lt's stained.

That slut? Who else could it be?

Serve this and get another one.

Can't go through life reaping pity.

Did you call the police?

What?

Do l look like an informer or a son of a bitch?

Go on.

Excuse me...

There, little girl...

there.

There... calm down...

You'll look for him?

You'll bring me Gardenia?

She won't be a burden.

l left her sleeping.

She won't wake until tomorrow.

She's sick.

Sick, that's what they call sloshed now.

l'm not mixing in your affairs.

They're full of bad habits.

You're leaving?

What if the police comes looking for you?

l'm hungry...

and all you could think of was locking me up.

Some skinny-ass came with smeared shit for me to eat.

She said, 'Eat like us or starve'

l've never starved, not for her nor anyone else.

So l said, let's go out and eat like people do.

Don't like chilies. They burn my throat.

Come here.

Come here.

My boss has things that you'll like.

He's your countryman.

Come on!

-Have some bread. -No.

l prefer tortillas.

The world is wide and strange...

and tastes shatter types,

and he isn't my countryman.

-You...talk like a Spaniard. -Yes, but l'm not.

l lived there. Accents come easy.

Good with accents, no way.

You'd talk like here.

How do you think Don Lazaro talks with us in the kitchen?

Like here.

He's who he is...

and l'm who l am.

Feels like Christmas,

One of those nights when you expect presents,

and you shut up in the kitchen to eat.

You eat to make the night shorter,

or to sleep in, if there weren't any gifts.

When there were no gifts,

l'd get into bed and close my eyes.

l'd swallow my tears and say,

today isn't today.

Today is tomorrow,

and that was it.

All solved.

As if l'd had gifts, pudding, everything.

Did l tell you l lived in a big house when l was small?

Almost a palace?

A Russian palace.

You'd love it.

l'm Russian.

l'm a countess...

and a revolutionary.

What happened to the palace?

The revolution happened.

First the Mensheviks, then the Bolsheviks and everyone else.

l drove them wild. They adored me.

l was the toast of Berlin.

The most desired woman in Germany.

You were Russian.

Practically German.

l was raised there.

l was a circus performer.

l rode a Cossack horse in the famous Petroff Circus.

Bareback and naked.

l moved to trapeze in Berlin.

A silver trapeze with diamonds.

l was naked.

That's my trademark.

The plot was hatched there.

l, who'd been raised in a summer house in San Sebastian,

with an English nanny and a private beach in la Concha,

had to go kill Franco.

l was betrayed when l got to Bilbao.

And go figure,

l wound up here,

in Veracruz.

Kill Franco...

Coming or not?

What are you looking at?

What are you looking at?

Am l a monkey...

a circus freak?

How long have you been there? Hours?

l've respected you. l swear l've respected you.

Respected? Don't respect me, as you say. l don't need it.

l don't need it nor do l like it.

l don't care if l do you for a breakfast or someone else for spare change.

You see?

l'm wet.

l get wet from everything and everyone.

Go on...

that way l repay you and we're even.

l don't like owing people favors.

No, not like this.

Then how the hell?

Smell...

it smells like sex, right?

With you or some other guy.

l'm like that,

and l like it that way.

And don't look at me with that lousy face.

Throw me out,

get rid of me while you can.

Later, it'll be too late.

l'll have no choice but to break your soul.

That's how l am,

and that's how you are.

l'm evil and a whore,

you're an idiot and poor.

Oh well,

what can you do?

You asked for it.

You asked for it.

Lick it.

You notice nothing.

She's brainwashing you.

l can smell it... don't play dumb.

Did you take sulfanimide?

Take some. Don't be a nerd.

They may pretend to appear virginal

but they're all worse than a bitch in heat,

and have crabs in the crotch.

Before you go and have sow your oats,

Before you go and sow your oats,

Who'd of thought it?

And l had you down as a faggot.

Just the dress?

And the Spanish tiara?

Don't tell me you couldn't find it.

No doubt to save a couple of measly cents.

l brought you this.

What about the blood sausage from Burgos that l told you about?

He noticed stuff missing.

Screw the greasy fatso.

My hair, like this or down?

lf l had a Spanish tiara...

but you didn't get one.

l wore it like that in Bangkok.

Did l tell you about Bangkok?

l was carrying the ransom money.

l had it tied to my dress.

A Chinese dress like this, purple.

That explains the whim. l got nostalgic and asked you for it.

l'll tell you. You'll love it.

lt's a really, really long story.

Long, long...

lf l tell you, it'll be until eight or eight thirty a.m.

Behave and you'll know my life.

lt's like having all of me.

l'll tell you...

but no nodding off.

l work tomorrow.

Fuck work.

lt's work that's got you trapped in this tiny, shitty world.

Look what l'm going to do, look.

l'm going to help free you.

Look, your slave's jacket.

l free you, l break your chains.

-l give you liberty. -Enough. Stop it. You're crazy.

Crazy...

but not a slave. Crazy, but you're dying for me.

You melt like slime sliding down a wall to touch me.

That's all you want.

l tell you my secrets, you scorn 'em.

l offer myself, and you just want to be fatso's slave.

You're not going to lick me with the same tongue you lick his ass,

and the soles of his shoes.

Look what l'm going to do with those shoes that you shine so much.

The kiss-ass shoes!

The puppet's, the wretch's shoes!

Go on, get them!

Crawl for them like a bug, like a worm!

He's got me here and he hasn't even touched me!

Not even the hem of my dress, just so you all know!

And l'm dying for a cock!

Gardenia Wilson's cock, not some sad waiter's cock!

That's how l am, no matter what you do.

Don't say l didn't warn you.

Didn't l warn you?

My problem is that l can't lie.

Not even a miserable white lie.

Pity,

it'd all be easier if l could.

Gardenia Wilson!

l'm coming for you, Gardenia!

l've got business with you!

l'm looking for you, Gardenia!

lt's me, lgnacio Jurado!

The Mikado!

A wrestler like you!

Without a name or fame but with skill,

with strength.

l train daily at home.

Gardenia, this is a matter between you and me, the Mikado!

l knew it.

Signed,

Lola.

She left.

lt's my bad luck to bring you the bad news, mate.

Such is life.

Lola...

Go on pal, go on.

At this stage, that just makes me nostalgic.

Jeepers!

-Where? -Upstairs.

Check them out, boss.

lt's obvious they're posh. Leather armchair.

There's been activity in 215 for weeks.

Hand it over, son.

They were scattered downstairs.

We sneaked in through the hole. lt's been abandoned for ages.

Don't tell me they're yours, boss.

They're total beaver shots to get rosie palm pumping.

They say they're mounting a press.

We'll see...

Take them up some coffee and a basket of sweet rolls.

Except for the chilindrinas...

they're a purely Mexican taste.

And tell them that we deliver.

Since when?

Since today, airhead, since today.

Since l fucking feel like it.

l thought you didn't like your countrymen.

Me?

For being reds and republicans.

And how the hell do you know if they're reds or not?

They smell of ships.

Only republicans come here now.

Why would the franquistas come if they won?

Go on, be a smart-ass, you half-breed, you peasant.

People leave their country not just for political reasons.

Peasants with hunger clinging to their spine also leave from there.

Go on, take them their coffee.

Then, like a real man...

you'll explain your treacherous slander to me,

and those faggot songs that you sing.

Because we don't give deviants work here. That's right.

Kiss-ass...

butt-licker,

servile wretch.

l have your mid-morning coffee.

We didn't order any. lt's a mistake.

And close the door. We're busy.

Don Lazaro sends it on the house.

Just don't leave it if you don't want it.

Since Splendor closed down, there are rats around here.

They'll get into all our rooms.

We're in 215 here, not in the damn Splendor.

But they're connected.

Behind the screen...

there's a hole that the owner made during the strike,

l go down this hole,

to get his things out.

The only things you get from here now are rats.

What about the strike?

What about it? lt went to hell.

lt was like this when l arrived...

and it's going on seven years.

That's what happens with little, shitty, restrained, bratty strikes.

'Excuse us boss, but we're going to bust your ass.'

The place is shut down, and that's that. Fuck it.

So your solution is a couple of Molotovs and martyrs by the handful?

l'm fed up with martyrs. Fed up with you and your martyrs.

And you...

don't worry about rats.

To avoid hearing Gimeno, even the rats move out.

-Good afternoon. -Good afternoon.

Always save them that table.

For the republicans?

Yes, since they think they're such libertarians...

they'll want to use the table as an ashtray.

And only serve cheap brandy.

These refugees get off the boat without a dime.

Good afternoon.

What can l get you?

A glass of water.

Two.

lt's not like that, it's badly focused.

Buy a new lens.

-lt's not like that. -lt is. Just like your...

You should've stayed in Madrid.

What the fuck did you do? Always in the rearguard.

Or are we back to the same topic of if Franco this, if Franco that.

Until when?

Until they feel like it.

lt'll be like Madrid. A long sojourn.

Gentlemen...

l've instructed my assistant to keep the place open

until dawn if need be.

A fellow countryman's hospitality. Anything for our country.

Countrymen? You speak like a Mexican.

l was raised here.

So you're a Spanish wetback.

The ideal Spanish wetback. Direct heir to the conqueror.

Not us. We just got here, unstained and sinless.

Thanks, and don't listen to Gimeno. He's a joker and a bore.

A joker? He's an anarchist of the worst ilk.

One more joke and they'll throw us out on our ass.

You're in charge.

Keep good track of the tab.

l know my countrymen.

And none of your faggy Mikado songs.

Give a good impression.

Recently defeated,

We cross the ancient sea,

Only our memories are left,

Our loved ones stayed behind,

Left behind, a wounded country,

And we dream of it,

But those dreams will be,

The wings with which we'll return,

Oh, when the tyrant falls,

Oh, when Franco dies.

To my country that they destroyed,

They now ask for asylum,

Now it's their turn to be fucked,

And live a loaned life,

All they've left is their desires,

They're screwed.

Damn! lt's three in the morning.

What's eating at you?

Her?

l'm moping around.

l'm haunted by images.

Nachito, you've always been a dreamer.

Jesus, tell him the truth already.

That she's at the Chinese dens.

Stuffed with opium.

She's dead meat. The reaper has sucked her blood.

Over there?

There.

Give me your foot.

Give it, slut. That's what l pay you for.

lt tickles too much.

Enough. l'm not playing. You didn't say it was an extra rate.

Goddamn it, l only get fucking crazy perverts.

'Excuse the delay with your photos,

let's say it was a proletarian expropriation.

The gloves are a gift for the universal right to bad habits.'

The owner's.

What is it?

Spanish bean stew.

lt tastes of there.

lt tastes of there,

of home.

One good deed deserves another.

We want to, we need to,

We're going to kill Franco.

For our honor,

For our pain,

We're going to kill,

We're going to kill Franco.

Now, explain that bourgeois democracy thing.

lt's an anarchist invention...

They stay really late...

don't buy anything,

it's not fair.

Take note of what proletarian politics is.

You have a date. Go!

We're not going to rob you. We rob your boss...

when you go in the kitchen to jerk off.

This is class war. Understand? Class war.

You're humiliating him. Shit, Madariaga.

lf you have a date, go. lgnore his jokes.

Not jokes, shock politics..

to wake hate for the boss in the exploited.

Keep on picking on him and you'll be toothless.

Fuck you and your family.

Apologize on your knees...

on your mother's and my mother's graves.

-See you tomorrow. -Bye.

See you later.

So it's true that you have a free night.

The fight will be over if you're going.

Sometimes people lose their wits.

Don't listen to him.

Don't listen to us. We're just consumed by anger.

lt's not easy being the loser.

You want revenge from whoever crosses your path.

And then...

an unthought of generosity appears,

unexpectedly.

Take Toledano.

He had me...

before the firing squad.

l was already worm food.

Now you live in his printing press.

You found Splendor there and stole my hideout.

And if we share your hideout?

You have your times and l'll have mine.

Your hideout will be my photo studio

l'm an artist of photography.

Well, that's what l was until the war.

The war came...

and all l got was a bullet hole,

although it was a glorious bullet.

Stick a finger in.

Not that one, your thumb.

Feel it.

Feel it, damn it! Feel it!

Go on, go. You've got your own problems.

And let me make it clear, the war, not age...

turned me into an irreverent old man.

Sleep well...

Leave, or you'll pay dearly.

l'm looking for Lola.

Fair skinned.

All made-up.

'Mikado...

Meet me at our hideout.

Death to the ruling class.

Signed, the Mikado.'

Asshole.

lngrate.

Weren't we pals?

Take your gags and jokes and go to hell.

The class thing upset you?

The Mikado thing. Some call me that.

How did you know?

Because you sing it all the time. Why else?

And because when l was in Russia, in Vladivostok,

my comrades in the Red Army called me Mikado.

l'd sing it and sing it, all day long l'd sing it.

lt was my battle name. Mikado.

Because l like it and l fucking feel like it.

ln this life, everything that you fucking feel like doing,

is worth it.

Go figure.

You really could've been the Mikado.

Not me.

lf l sing a little bit of it, they lay into me.

That l'm a fag, that l'm queer.

But not anymore.

Enough's enough.

l'll bust anyone's face who lays into me or the Mikado.

That's the way to talk...

with bravado.

Here's my secret.

l'm not just a common photographer.

l'm a revolutionary artist.

Anarchist, deist, and visionary.

l'm doing 'The Autarchist World History' according to Bakunin...

Sit.

A gem.

Look...

Moses and the Hebrews.

Moses and the Hebrews,

Spartacus's rebellion,

corruption of the papal Curia,

Pope Borgia,

The Civil War, the freeing of the slaves,

the United States.

l'm also preparing the fall of Tenochtitlan.

lt's easier here because of the natives.

Everything with a libertarian view, of course.

The whores and market porters...

come as my models.

The Fall of the Bastille.

Since it deals with the masses,

l gave it my libertarian interpretation.

Naked prisoners?

Economic censorship, the bourgeois weapon.

But we're all equal naked.

l'm behind for lack of time, of money.

Damn, how it ruins everything.

Sometimes...

l have 'cochon' photo sessions.

Dirty.

That's why l borrowed your tittie photos.

l took photos of your photos and that's that.

l also shoot wrestlers.

l haven't found a stand-in for that.

l haven't shown anyone.

You're the first.

The others don't understand.

They'd be arguing all day about the flags,

the Second lnternational...

Meanwhile, l make my evocative montages,

and film them with this small camera.

l reset history. 'The Autarchist World History'.

l'll use Eisenstein's editing technique.

That way, l'll screw both the Bolsheviks,

and lndalecio Prieto once and for all.

Why are you telling me?

l need someone to sew costumes.

Me?

Who else?

And it does me good...

to talk to someone who doesn't have a clue about the Fifth Regiment.

l'll do the costumes.

Bakunin.

-You're sure you want to help me? -Yes.

To shoot wrestlers doing their bit,

l only do it for the money.

Human scum disgusts me.

Don't say that. My lmelda also goes to matches.

When she goes, she quits whoring.

She likes wrestling.

When blood starts flowing, she says,

'See? lt's not just life that busts our ass.

One can also do it to others.'

That's what l like about you, Raquel, your egalitarian spirit.

-What about you Nacho? -Gardenia Wilson.

Ok, place yourselves...

and smile slyly. You look like angels.

Fix his mask. lt's crooked. He looks blind.

He's unkempt and he shouldn't be reaping pity.

Let me. lt's like you understand nothing.

And l mean nothing.

There, that's better.

Be still.

Smile.

What?

What do you want?

What you looking at?

Do l have two heads or are you following me...

'cause you fell for the story that l'm a fag?

Because l'll show you real fast that it was a publicity stunt.

l come because of Lola.

Jesus, Jesus, free me from the devil!

lt was like getting rid of scabies.

-Lola? -She followed me everywhere.

She spied on me. She took it badly.

l've never liked women that beg.

Must be that foreign women never had a Mexican mother.

Man to man, don't even look for her, because you'll find her.

And if you do, you'll never be rid of her.

Ok buddy, leave. lt's time to take off my mask.

What?

What?

You want to see my face to see if l'm macho.

l am, and l'm reliable. When l perform, l perform.

Look at her.

The days that l serviced her, l serviced her good...

Scram!

Gerardo from the cafe.

And fuck Stalin because the son of a bitch had Durruti killed.

You'll see when Franco dies.

Go to hell. Communists don't shoot you in the back.

We'll deal with the traitors when Franco dies.

So now, to screw the anarchist comrades, you have to vindicate Franco.

No, it's not that.

The only thing to be done is to go kill Franco.

A long road awaits,

Awaits,

Until Franco's death,

Franco's death,

The ocean and nostalgia,

lnvade the soul,

We must kill,

Franco must be killed.

Careful, it's the only one that cuts the grease.

Don't know why you're mad at the damn refugees.

A burned table's the boss's deal.

Let his day be ruined.

lgnore it...

keep to what concerns you, and that's that.

Look at me.

The Spaniards were pains in the ass the other day.

That lentil soup doesn't have bananas.

That it has pieces of who the fuck knows what.

And l told Don Lazaro,

l don't care. l make what l make.

What did he do?

Huh? He put the chorizo in and took the bananas out himself.

And if they say that only melons there are tasty,

l could care less.

l don't get gloomy. l mind my own business.

l train here daily and some day, when you least expect it,

l'll be in the papers,

or in the Coliseo's programs. l swear on my mother's grave.

Will you give me a shot?

Will you train me?

-Boxing? -No, wrestling.

l want to be a masked wrestler.

l train but it's not enough.

No buddy, no way.

Boxing is serious. They bust your ass.

Wrestling's all fake.

l won't stoop. Get another.

-Where? -Where? Where do you think, idiot?

Right here with your clientele.

You'd think you'd lost your brains.

Again? l didn't put bananas in the soup this time.

No, buddy, no. You added epazote.

You couldn't do worse.

What are you going to add next? Papaloquelite?

Don't give me any ideas.

The refugee's table is calling.

lt's burnt out.

Get another bulb. lt's darker than your soul here.

l beg your pardon?

-They say lantern in these parts. -Don't know if there are any.

Let's take that one.

The cash register's.

The cash register's?

Even better.

They'll replace that one.

Let's see if they lose the bad habit...

of scrimping at the customer's expense.

There.

And don't say: 'l beg your pardon'

Don't stoop. No one's above you here. You're no slave.

Countryman,

l'd stop fucking with him if l were you.

That's how they speak here.

And he isn't a lackey.

You're just different souls

and it's you who must adapt.

l'm just warning you because one day,

this one that looks so meek,

or any other from around here,

will come on the sly,

and kick your ass.

That's how it's done here.

Thanks.

That's why they piss me off.

They love to rattle on,

but in six months, they haven't touched a damned tortilla.

Poor devils.

Their life is ruined, torn apart.

Any time that they or l...

cling to something, it's to stop from losing what we left behind.

There are mornings...

mornings that l wake up in a cold sweat...

and say l'll be someone else,

a nobody.

No one shortcuts life, Mikado,

no one.

lt just goes on.

Don't take it badly, Nacho.

They came here.

They have to make an effort to adapt.

Toledano only says:

'Bring this, bring that.'

Not one if you may or thank you.

lt's not if you may, it's your job.

Manners are manners and they never hurt anyone.

You wound up here.

Now you're fucked.

Give me that.

No one...

None of you...

are going to appear with a tacky heart-shaped mole on the...

-Cheek. -Cheek...right.

No prissiness.

This is art,

even if it doesn't sink into your skull.

lf you please, ladies...

lf you think you'll get one cent from me, you're wrong.

Touch me or not, that's your deal.

l do it for money,

but one also sells one's time and God knows l've given you that.

l came for him...

and not you nor anyone else is going to take him from me.

Gardenia heard you come,

and left like a bat out of hell.

He's over you.

Call him, you damn whore...

Call him.

Tell him to take me to hell with him.

What are you looking at?

What are you looking at?

What?

Can't she grieve in peace?

You'd give your right arm for me.

And my left as well.

lf l go with you, will you be content with nothing?

You'll never touch my flesh.

Not even a kiss.

We whores know that kisses are treacherous.

ln the long run,

they wind up...

stealing your mind,

drying up your soul.

That's what happened with him

and it's never happening again.

Not one kiss.

Never ever.

Poor devil.

You're entering hell,

my hell,

and even l can't stop it.

Forget about making me a teetotaler.

l drink wine.

And not the kind that you steal from your boss, the fat tub.

l want one that's bought, one that costs you.

Let him enjoy and let her see red.

l used to dance naked with black panthers in the Petroff Circus.

Never heard of it?

You'd love it...

We took it to the Pigalle in Paris.

Gardenia wants to take it to Hollywood.

Did l tell you he's been hired?

Some guys offered him a contract.

He doesn't have an act and l said, 'Take mine.'

Together onstage.

We're going to fuck onstage.

l, dressed as a man, will take his girl's suit off.

l get wet talking about it.

Feel how wet l am.

No...

better to leave it,

l'll jerk off and that's that.

You'll help me get him to Hollywood?

Convince him for us to go together?

Go on, give him what you have.

Talk.

Here's for the train to Tijuana,

and for the bus to Los Angeles.

Second class.

lt's for you two to go to Hollywood like you promised.

lt's my savings.

l didn't steal it.

No fella...

l'm not playing that nut's game.

And stop bothering me already.

A couple of rolls in the hay,

just a couple, and she won't stop pestering me.

l'm married, with a family.

And if l went with someone,

it wouldn't be this vulgar, pleading whore.

Leave her, man,

break free.

l know this type, they suck you dry.

-Take it. -Goddamnit, leave me alone.

Take it.

Leave me alone or l'll bust your ass.

Goddamnit... get out.

Do l scare you?

You all call me bitch, whore, cunt and worse.

Well look at the depth of my ilk.

Lick me...

Lick me, animal.

Lick me like you do at home.

No hands, no touching, just your tongue.

On the sole.

l went to the Coliseo this morning and heard it there.

l'm not a messenger, but Gardenia Wilson's gone.

Even his locker is empty.

Wash your face so they don't see your tears.

l told you. Not even as an extra.

You thought he'd be on the screen in a month?

Or he changed his name.

No one called Gardenia goes to Hollywood to be an actor.

The favors l do for Nacho.

To come with you to this piece of shit.

Didn't even want to see this movie.

And her, Davis...

stoops to beg to that goose-faced Fonda.

Not her, she's a woman of stature.

Damn, not only a bitch but a thief.

You stole the photo.

ldiot, you've just screwed me.

They'll blame me.

Almost no one goes to the four o'clock show.

They know and like me there.

But what's it to you? You only care about yourself.

-Do l look like her? -ln your dreams.

No, you look nothing like her.

And stop making yourself up like a clown.

l can't even take you to the movies.

What can l do with you in the evenings, huh?

Where can l take you where you won't mess up?

lf you escape from me, it'll break Nacho's heart and ruin his life.

lt's not fair.

Look...

-Same cheekbones. -Exactly the same.

What fantasies you have.

Even if you looked like her, you're not like her.

You and l were born on the loser's side of life.

We don't get to look like anyone.

That's why...

l wake up sometimes and say,

lf only l could be someone else for a little while today,

one of the lucky ones...

with no inner demons, who doesn't destroy everything she touches.

When l was little, l'd hang on my mother's petticoat

and she'd say:

'Come on, get away, clumsy.'

And l adored her in vain.

l never knew why l annoyed her.

And l'd say,

Could it be my mischievous look?

God gave it to me. l didn't ask for it.

That's why l say,

what if l'm someone else?

With another face,

another life?

l might even wind up liking Nacho.

That's why l say,

why can't life give me another life?

lt can't.

You are what your are.

You think l'm not dying to love him gently,

and not break his heart in pieces?

But l can't control my heart.

Try.

Make believe.

Could be that in the end,

you even wind up being fond of him.

He cherishes your every breath.

So much so that he sucks out my soul.

And everyone's happy. Go on, leave her fighting for air.

Martyrs get all the pity and all the praise.

You think l like leaving a trail of sorrow wherever l go?

l look in the mirror and say,

'You're fucked, Lola.

You got to be you.'

Do you know what it's like hoping to have another face?

Another look in my eyes? Another soul?

No one likes to be themselves.

Life is wishing for someone else's life.

lt's more than wishing for me...

And it doesn't sink into your dumb friend's head.

l'm up front.

l warned him. l was frank.

He deserves it...

and l deserve it.

Warning isn't enough.

Don't l look a bit like Barbara Stanwyck?

Her interesting look.

lmelda says she's Bette Davis.

l say, l'm the very same Barbara.

Did he appear?

Did Gardenia appear?

Do l have to spell it out for you?

No, l didn't see him onscreen.

You know what?

l want you out of the room.

You smell.

You stink.

Must be from bathing so much...

-l'll change my soap. -No.

lt isn't about not bathing.

Don't you understand?

l want you out of the room.

To sleep outside?

Cheer up.

They say it's healthy.

You know,

l feel cooped up on evenings like this.

l feel like going out,

and seeing moms with babies in their arms,

and buying chestnuts and dancing.

l'll take you to the movies,

l'll take you out,

l'll buy you chestnuts,

l'll take you dancing,

to the end of the world.

Your mouth has the scent of gardenias,

your look has gorgeous sparkles of light.

You're not with me, are you?

You're with him.

Today, it's with you.

You and me.

Tomorrow, who knows?

No one writes on anyone's heart.

But these two minutes are with you.

The end.

Kaput.

Your two minutes are over.

See? That's how l am.

Pity, huh?

But those two minutes were mine.

You were mine for two minutes.

Two whole minutes...

The photos...

Your photos.

They get you hot.

They make you horny. That's why you watch me.

Burn them.

No,

not my photos.

-What do they have to do with anything? -l want them burned to ashes.

ln the basin where you wash my feet.

Not my photos,

damn it!

lt's a valuable collection.

Krieger, the German from the Ofelia, left me them.

Even better. Everything that's German stinks nowadays.

Go on. l don't have your time.

Don't you know being a tyrant is hard?

l swear l gave you my two minutes.

All of them.

We've been at it all morning.

lt's Lenin you're messing with. Go vent your anger somewhere else.

Hit me. Hit me, Mikado.

Kill me, kick my ass Mikado.

Look what l do so you beat the shit out of me.

Have you gone crazy?

Can't you see that l'm doomed?

She told me.

She warned me really clearly:

'The reaper will get you '

And the bloodsucker did.

Hit me, Mikado.

-Kick my ass. -Stop acting like a fool.

Mr. Mikado and l have no reason to put up with your antics.

Stop arousing pity.

Do l arouse anything but pity?

Look Raquel...

look.

Her?

No, my friend.

l deserve it.

To each his faults.

No one's forced to do anything.

Only one tit got burned.

lt's ok, man. lt's ok.

l'll photograph your photos, develop them, and good as new.

More was lost in the war.

My mother lost an arm.

Come off it, it may not be an arm, but they're his photos.

The ones you jerk off to.

The whole arm, not even a stump to push her spoon.

Come here, come here.

Can you get her out of your heart?

Then get her a job.

Don't keep her locked up. Gilded cages degrade the soul.

Let her work,

give her space.

What if she leaves?

What if she leaves me?

Talk to Don Lazaro. He likes you.

She's from his country. l'm sure he'll find her something.

Let's keep working, Don Mikado.

lt seems biased to me.

l'm serious, starting tomorrow, l'll only do the register.

Carrying trays isn't for me.

'Starting tomorrow, only the register.'

Ok...

she won't get any tips. What an idiot.

l'll vouch for her.

People who say such things also wind up playing the fool.

You never told me you liked them.

No?

l haven't told you that nor a lot of other things.

l haven't told you, and l probably never will.

And l'm not used to being watched over.

l don't like watchdogs.

Lola, two coffees please.

-But l asked her for them. -l'll take your order.

l prefer her.

Don't be like that, it's not about the tip.

She's from our country

and we want to give her the first book we've published.

She was in the UGT union during the Republic.

She isn't Spanish.

She's German...

German and Russian.

And l'm an African cannibal. She conned you.

How many have you printed?

Because no one will care except for us.

What do you mean, no one?

They already had a revolution here but it was a peasant one.

The Bolshevik's don't like that.

lt was a riot, not a revolution. Lenin already said that.

When Franco dies and you go home, you'll see how giving they are here.

Watch it, you'll cut yourself up.

As if you were a fakir. You're not even a wrestler.

Oh man...

Damn glove,

at least if it were panties...

The men that you kiss,

Stay in your head,

And the men you don't kiss,

You make them sad,

l committed the sin of kissing you so many times,

That you've been etched,

lnside my thick bush.

German, German...

This one's more Spanish than castanets.

Dance for you?

As if l were a sideshow act. Did you buy me?

What the fuck do l owe you to dance for you just like that?

Want to see how they looked at my legs?

They saw my bush, you know.

You think they're like you? Sexless runts?

They made a revolution.

You jerk off in corners.

Since when are you interested in politics?

Why do you talk to them so much?

You're just a phony acting like you care about the war,

and they play along, acting as if you were involved.

As far as the war and those who lost it,

have the decency to exclude them from your silly sorrows.

They've suffered enough.

And stop following and suffocating me.

You want to keep me prisoner, shut in.

You want to touch me.

You want to touch this white skin that obsesses you,

and that you'll never ever dare touch.

l need opium...

lt's like a secret link, Raquelito.

A blood link.

They're white like her, and l'm...a damn lndian.

Did you see her with them?

All smiles and singing and flirting.

She even started in with the war and the revolution.

Don't we know it...

She's a foreigner.

They come defeated,

We were born like that,

And it's very clear to us,

So a little bird said,

That she isn't one of us, she's one of them.

That she isn't one of us, she's one of them.

Your water, sir.

Thanks, Nacho.

To whoever plays against Asturias, damnit.

The Asturias is a Spanish team. One of ours.

To hell with me,

and mine. None of us has dared to do what must me done.

-Kill the tyrant. -Come on.

Here, we the losers lick our wounds with bla, bla, bla.

Political assassination is the only way to cure exile.

Yell, yell...The Ministry of the lnterior's at the next table.

Oh yeah?

All that's left us is to keep quiet?

Fuck lnterior, and your mother.

Come on, shut up!

Welcome...

Welcome...

What'll you have?

What'll you have?

Didn't you like that damn ball?

Break it and you're fucked. They don't make them anymore.

No need to get mad, dammit.

-Good night. -Bye.

New blood from the new world,

because none of my prudish and timid cafe comrades...

have the balls to kill.

That was the ritual of your gods, of your Huichilante.

Huichilopoxtli, and l'm not up for your shit.

l brought her the opium, and nothing.

She just moans for Gardenia Wilson.

Then you're better off with my shit.

l know her,

like l know my own.

You'll lose her scorn when they respect you.

A while ago...

l heard her talk about killing Franco.

l'll do it.

l'll go and bang,

fill him full of lead and that's that.

Who'd suspect a Mexican waiter?

Then she came out with some story about killing Franco.

lf she says so,

there must be a reason.

lf you ask me.

And just like in the movies, she melts in your arms.

Ok, if you please...

Over here, up front...

Play on with more fervor and more militarily, if you may.

Come on,

take it off, dammit, take it off.

A sequin gown.

lt's for her.

lt's Mikado's idea.

You're Cortez and she's his lover, Malinche.

That'll give history a revolutionary twist.

You might even get her to like you with this. She'll love it.

lt isn't obvious, but she's a sucker for clothes.

Does it look good on me?

l look like her, don't l?

lt's a shame, huh?

What fucking a shame.

l've done it again.

Today, she robbed me.

Tomorrow, it'll be you.

That one can't open her heart to anything or anyone.

l won't call the police.

That way, you won't piss them off and get the shit beat out of you.

And take note,

l don't expect any thanks.

l only expect...

that you stop acting like a fool.

l've got to kill Franco and you've got to help me.

Look at you, naked, with a crazed look in your eyes.

Listen closely Nacho, not even love potions brainwash people so.

Look Raquel, look.

Why the hell are you going to kill Franco? You could care less.

lt's a gift.

Then she'll know how much l love her.

Now you've really lost it. Go to your room, get some sense.

We'll talk tomorrow.

Because l'm dark skinned, right?

Straight hair, brown-skinned?

Now you'll see, bitch...

You'll see if l can't make miracles...

and wind up as white as your fucking countrymen.

Who in their right mind...?

Quicklime doesn't whiten, it only leaves your skin raw.

Look at yourself, worse than the Mikado.

You look like a Christ on the cross.

This is the photo l'm missing.

Christ in an anarchist loincloth,

with a flag that says long live death.

He was good at death.

Stop talking shit and keep on with the cream.

Nachito, l have a proposal and a solution. The perfect solution.

The true death of Francisco Franco

He's a waiter

He's a hero

The Mikado

He was a wrestler... a masked one.

He'll kill Franco tomorrow

The murder weapon

His gift of love

He travels to Spain

Long live Franco

He's coming...!

Here comes the Caudillo

Chaos, chaos

He's killed Franco

A loaded gun...

Who in his right mind would think of such a thing?

Blood...

lt's Franco.

l killed him...

l killed Franco.

lt's just a game, don't be an idiot.

You really killed Franco?

Listen to this, it's come out in ABC.

'The Pardo palace issued a statement

that strongly denies rumors of a murder attempt on the Caudillo

on the day of the parade.

But rumors exist that the Caudillo...

has physical changes barely noticeable to the untrained eye...

a few inches taller, a flatter skull,

a less fluty voice...'

They're tactics... to create confusion.

This, although it's false, deserves a toast.

The drinks are on the house.

Since when are you a republican?

Since today.

Don't spoil my afternoon.

She's his slave...

their love will be eternal.

Coming soon

THE VlRGEN OF LUST

Tittie.

Tittie.

Pussy.

Pussy.

Tittie.

Pussy.

Pussy.

Ass.

Tittie.

Ass.

A man.

Pussy.

Brown-skinned.

Straight hair.

His rituals.

Straight hair.

Ruffled eyebrow.

His clientele.

The afternoons.

The nights.

His life flows...

a river...

Every day's the same

His rituals.

she...SHE

HER!

Passion runs loose

The Virgin of Holy Lust

She

Franco...

Kill Franco...

Franco must be killed.

Don't walk over the mopped part.

A while ago a damn whore muddied up the hall.

lt ain't fair...

Where's Gardenia?

Gardenia...

They told me he was here.

l gave them a big wad of bills so they'd tell me.

Get out of here.

lf you're found here, l'll get heat.

How'd you stay in here?

-And Gardenia? -You were told wrong.

Whores only pass through here before working.

No, no, not this one, lt's the boss's.

He marks the level. He notices everything.

Gardenia...

his name's Gardenia,

Gardenia Wilson.

Don't play dumb.

-The masked wrestler? -Exactly...

You're after a sissy?

A faggot,

well, a queer.

l say it because it's common knowledge:

When he enters the ring, he wears braids and a little girl's dress.

That sissy you're talking about,

fucked me like no one ever has.

Never before,

not now,

never again.

So much so that l won't forget him.

l have him stuck to my pussy,

and to my heart.

For once...

for once l get here early and l'm given a nasty surprise.

Phony, fraud, hypocrite...

How well you pretend when l get here later.

You gave her my aged brandy.

l smell it, idiot, l smell it.

One who was born with a silver spoon in his mouth,

has a fine sense of smell.

Solera de la Reina's your favorite.

Your fucking mother is my favorite...

My favorite...

is the brandy that l say is my favorite.

-You told me your favorite was... -Shut your trap.

Shut it, you damn bastard,

phony,

son of a bitch, half-breed.

You're such a peasant.

And if she threw up...

you're both going straight to jail.

Yeah, accused of stealing and...

and embezzlement.

-Embezzlement? -Embezzlement, idiot...

embezzlement and anything else l feel like.

lf you want to vent your anger, l'll give you the excuse.

l'll just throw up on you.

That way you take it out on me since l deserve it.

-He's got nothing to do with it. -Come here you.

Don't just stand there.

Don't go. Come here.

Come here.

Let go! Bastard!

Get in there!

-Lock it. -Open the door.

Let me out!

-l just found her here. -l know.

When will you ever have the dough for a foreign whore?

Then why do you take it out on me?

l pay you, l take it out on you.

But look...

l'm calm, l'm calm, so l won't take it out on you.

Mop the brandy stain...

with soapy water.

lf not, it'll dry out and stink badly.

The Ofelia is a cafe for conversation and cultured people.

-What about her? -l'll screw her...

-With the police? -No, for real.

She can pay the bribe with two blowjobs.

Better yet, l'll talk to lmmigration.

They're serious people.

She'll be in Salina Cruz tomorrow.

Destination: China.

-Listen, Don Lazaro -And you know why?

For being a republican.

They love to be martyrs

but as far as working, forget about it.

This one must have left Spain

when she smelled defeat, and came running.

Get dressed!

She's just odd.

How do you know she's Spanish?

Because l'm Spanish. l have the same blood.

-You were born here. -Yeah, yeah, l was born here,

but my blood's from there.

Ok, enough chitchat.

Know what?

One day l'll throw this damn ball in the garbage.

This is a cafe, not a dive. Why are you staring at it?

l look at it and it feels like Christmas.

The lndian's become a poet.

No wonder Cortez bought your souls with trinkets and glass.

Shiny things dazzle you.

Damn fatso,

you have lndian blood just like me.

Real lndian blood.

The boss is a real bastard.

He's calling lmmigration.

He doesn't mess around and he's set on it.

Says it's because you're a republican and he supports Franco.

l want to see Gardenia.

That's all l want. To see Gardenia.

That he see me die.

That way, l'll be stuck in his memory.

and he'll love me a little, just a bit.

Don't let me leave without Gardenia,

without getting him in my soul.

Life's funny...

To come to die in a garbage pit,

fucking life.

Fucking truth, huh?

Because l'm going to die in this pit, stuffed with opium and booze.

The Chinese revenge.

The yellow danger.

Touch, touch, touch...

Feel my death.

A death that caught me without him, without Gardenia,

Without his cock...

Tell fatso that l'm dying.

That l'm dying here on him...

to fuck up his life,

-to give him bad luck. -Be quiet.

You're dying, but you don't shut your mouth.

Get out of here.

lf lmmigration comes, the least they'll do is deport you.

They enjoy what they do to women.

To die somewhere else...

as it should be.

Each with his own sorrow...

Thanks anyway.

Go to 210...

it's a door with white glass.

Stay there until your soul settles.

What if it leaves me?

lf you feel bad, talk to Raquel. She's next door.

She'll take over.

Tell her l sent you.

Nacho.

Are you bringing me Gardenia, Nacho?

Anything you want, but go upstairs.

Because in cases like this, Don Lazaro warns and delivers.

Anything?

Anything l ask of you?

You'll give me anything l ask for?

Now you're trapped.

Didn't l tell you that life's a bitch?

lt's a bitch, and it's fucked,

like it should be.

l told you. lt's fixed.

Excuse me...

He already made a deal, the guys are going to have a surprise.

-Of course. -No doubt there was money involved...

lt's post time.

l'm treating Senator Horcasitas and his friends.

Bring my brandy, the one from the decanter.

-To your health. -Thanks, Don Lazaro.

Half rum, half Brandy.

All cats are grey in the decanter.

Hey!

-Where's your jacket? -lt's stained.

That slut? Who else could it be?

Serve this and get another one.

Can't go through life reaping pity.

Did you call the police?

What?

Do l look like an informer or a son of a bitch?

Go on.

Excuse me...

There, little girl...

there.

There... calm down...

You'll look for him?

You'll bring me Gardenia?

She won't be a burden.

l left her sleeping.

She won't wake until tomorrow.

She's sick.

Sick, that's what they call sloshed now.

l'm not mixing in your affairs.

They're full of bad habits.

You're leaving?

What if the police comes looking for you?

l'm hungry...

and all you could think of was locking me up.

Some skinny-ass came with smeared shit for me to eat.

She said, 'Eat like us or starve'

l've never starved, not for her nor anyone else.

So l said, let's go out and eat like people do.

Don't like chilies. They burn my throat.

Come here.

Come here.

My boss has things that you'll like.

He's your countryman.

Come on!

-Have some bread. -No.

l prefer tortillas.

The world is wide and strange...

and tastes shatter types,

and he isn't my countryman.

-You...talk like a Spaniard. -Yes, but l'm not.

l lived there. Accents come easy.

Good with accents, no way.

You'd talk like here.

How do you think Don Lazaro talks with us in the kitchen?

Like here.

He's who he is...

and l'm who l am.

Feels like Christmas,

One of those nights when you expect presents,

and you shut up in the kitchen to eat.

You eat to make the night shorter,

or to sleep in, if there weren't any gifts.

When there were no gifts,

l'd get into bed and close my eyes.

l'd swallow my tears and say,

today isn't today.

Today is tomorrow,

and that was it.

All solved.

As if l'd had gifts, pudding, everything.

Did l tell you l lived in a big house when l was small?

Almost a palace?

A Russian palace.

You'd love it.

l'm Russian.

l'm a countess...

and a revolutionary.

What happened to the palace?

The revolution happened.

First the Mensheviks, then the Bolsheviks and everyone else.

l drove them wild. They adored me.

l was the toast of Berlin.

The most desired woman in Germany.

You were Russian.

Practically German.

l was raised there.

l was a circus performer.

l rode a Cossack horse in the famous Petroff Circus.

Bareback and naked.

l moved to trapeze in Berlin.

A silver trapeze with diamonds.

l was naked.

That's my trademark.

The plot was hatched there.

l, who'd been raised in a summer house in San Sebastian,

with an English nanny and a private beach in la Concha,

had to go kill Franco.

l was betrayed when l got to Bilbao.

And go figure,

l wound up here,

in Veracruz.

Kill Franco...

Coming or not?

What are you looking at?

What are you looking at?

Am l a monkey...

a circus freak?

How long have you been there? Hours?

l've respected you. l swear l've respected you.

Respected? Don't respect me, as you say. l don't need it.

l don't need it nor do l like it.

l don't care if l do you for a breakfast or someone else for spare change.

You see?

l'm wet.

l get wet from everything and everyone.

Go on...

that way l repay you and we're even.

l don't like owing people favors.

No, not like this.

Then how the hell?

Smell...

it smells like sex, right?

With you or some other guy.

l'm like that,

and l like it that way.

And don't look at me with that lousy face.

Throw me out,

get rid of me while you can.

Later, it'll be too late.

l'll have no choice but to break your soul.

That's how l am,

and that's how you are.

l'm evil and a whore,

you're an idiot and poor.

Oh well,

what can you do?

You asked for it.

You asked for it.

Lick it.

You notice nothing.

She's brainwashing you.

l can smell it... don't play dumb.

Did you take sulfanimide?

Take some. Don't be a nerd.

They may pretend to appear virginal

but they're all worse than a bitch in heat,

and have crabs in the crotch.

Before you go and have sow your oats,

Before you go and sow your oats,

Who'd of thought it?

And l had you down as a faggot.

Just the dress?

And the Spanish tiara?

Don't tell me you couldn't find it.

No doubt to save a couple of measly cents.

l brought you this.

What about the blood sausage from Burgos that l told you about?

He noticed stuff missing.

Screw the greasy fatso.

My hair, like this or down?

lf l had a Spanish tiara...

but you didn't get one.

l wore it like that in Bangkok.

Did l tell you about Bangkok?

l was carrying the ransom money.

l had it tied to my dress.

A Chinese dress like this, purple.

That explains the whim. l got nostalgic and asked you for it.

l'll tell you. You'll love it.

lt's a really, really long story.

Long, long...

lf l tell you, it'll be until eight or eight thirty a.m.

Behave and you'll know my life.

lt's like having all of me.

l'll tell you...

but no nodding off.

l work tomorrow.

Fuck work.

lt's work that's got you trapped in this tiny, shitty world.

Look what l'm going to do, look.

l'm going to help free you.

Look, your slave's jacket.

l free you, l break your chains.

-l give you liberty. -Enough. Stop it. You're crazy.

Crazy...

but not a slave. Crazy, but you're dying for me.

You melt like slime sliding down a wall to touch me.

That's all you want.

l tell you my secrets, you scorn 'em.

l offer myself, and you just want to be fatso's slave.

You're not going to lick me with the same tongue you lick his ass,

and the soles of his shoes.

Look what l'm going to do with those shoes that you shine so much.

The kiss-ass shoes!

The puppet's, the wretch's shoes!

Go on, get them!

Crawl for them like a bug, like a worm!

He's got me here and he hasn't even touched me!

Not even the hem of my dress, just so you all know!

And l'm dying for a cock!

Gardenia Wilson's cock, not some sad waiter's cock!

That's how l am, no matter what you do.

Don't say l didn't warn you.

Didn't l warn you?

My problem is that l can't lie.

Not even a miserable white lie.

Pity,

it'd all be easier if l could.

Gardenia Wilson!

l'm coming for you, Gardenia!

l've got business with you!

l'm looking for you, Gardenia!

lt's me, lgnacio Jurado!

The Mikado!

A wrestler like you!

Without a name or fame but with skill,

with strength.

l train daily at home.

Gardenia, this is a matter between you and me, the Mikado!

l knew it.

Signed,

Lola.

She left.

lt's my bad luck to bring you the bad news, mate.

Such is life.

Lola...

Go on pal, go on.

At this stage, that just makes me nostalgic.

Jeepers!

-Where? -Upstairs.

Check them out, boss.

lt's obvious they're posh. Leather armchair.

There's been activity in 215 for weeks.

Hand it over, son.

They were scattered downstairs.

We sneaked in through the hole. lt's been abandoned for ages.

Don't tell me they're yours, boss.

They're total beaver shots to get rosie palm pumping.

They say they're mounting a press.

We'll see...

Take them up some coffee and a basket of sweet rolls.

Except for the chilindrinas...

they're a purely Mexican taste.

And tell them that we deliver.

Since when?

Since today, airhead, since today.

Since l fucking feel like it.

l thought you didn't like your countrymen.

Me?

For being reds and republicans.

And how the hell do you know if they're reds or not?

They smell of ships.

Only republicans come here now.

Why would the franquistas come if they won?

Go on, be a smart-ass, you half-breed, you peasant.

People leave their country not just for political reasons.

Peasants with hunger clinging to their spine also leave from there.

Go on, take them their coffee.

Then, like a real man...

you'll explain your treacherous slander to me,

and those faggot songs that you sing.

Because we don't give deviants work here. That's right.

Kiss-ass...

butt-licker,

servile wretch.

l have your mid-morning coffee.

We didn't order any. lt's a mistake.

And close the door. We're busy.

Don Lazaro sends it on the house.

Just don't leave it if you don't want it.

Since Splendor closed down, there are rats around here.

They'll get into all our rooms.

We're in 215 here, not in the damn Splendor.

But they're connected.

Behind the screen...

there's a hole that the owner made during the strike,

l go down this hole,

to get his things out.

The only things you get from here now are rats.

What about the strike?

What about it? lt went to hell.

lt was like this when l arrived...

and it's going on seven years.

That's what happens with little, shitty, restrained, bratty strikes.

'Excuse us boss, but we're going to bust your ass.'

The place is shut down, and that's that. Fuck it.

So your solution is a couple of Molotovs and martyrs by the handful?

l'm fed up with martyrs. Fed up with you and your martyrs.

And you...

don't worry about rats.

To avoid hearing Gimeno, even the rats move out.

-Good afternoon. -Good afternoon.

Always save them that table.

For the republicans?

Yes, since they think they're such libertarians...

they'll want to use the table as an ashtray.

And only serve cheap brandy.

These refugees get off the boat without a dime.

Good afternoon.

What can l get you?

A glass of water.

Two.

lt's not like that, it's badly focused.

Buy a new lens.

-lt's not like that. -lt is. Just like your...

You should've stayed in Madrid.

What the fuck did you do? Always in the rearguard.

Or are we back to the same topic of if Franco this, if Franco that.

Until when?

Until they feel like it.

lt'll be like Madrid. A long sojourn.

Gentlemen...

l've instructed my assistant to keep the place open

until dawn if need be.

A fellow countryman's hospitality. Anything for our country.

Countrymen? You speak like a Mexican.

l was raised here.

So you're a Spanish wetback.

The ideal Spanish wetback. Direct heir to the conqueror.

Not us. We just got here, unstained and sinless.

Thanks, and don't listen to Gimeno. He's a joker and a bore.

A joker? He's an anarchist of the worst ilk.

One more joke and they'll throw us out on our ass.

You're in charge.

Keep good track of the tab.

l know my countrymen.

And none of your faggy Mikado songs.

Give a good impression.

Recently defeated,

We cross the ancient sea,

Only our memories are left,

Our loved ones stayed behind,

Left behind, a wounded country,

And we dream of it,

But those dreams will be,

The wings with which we'll return,

Oh, when the tyrant falls,

Oh, when Franco dies.

To my country that they destroyed,

They now ask for asylum,

Now it's their turn to be fucked,

And live a loaned life,

All they've left is their desires,

They're screwed.

Damn! lt's three in the morning.

What's eating at you?

Her?

l'm moping around.

l'm haunted by images.

Nachito, you've always been a dreamer.

Jesus, tell him the truth already.

That she's at the Chinese dens.

Stuffed with opium.

She's dead meat. The reaper has sucked her blood.

Over there?

There.

Give me your foot.

Give it, slut. That's what l pay you for.

lt tickles too much.

Enough. l'm not playing. You didn't say it was an extra rate.

Goddamn it, l only get fucking crazy perverts.

'Excuse the delay with your photos,

let's say it was a proletarian expropriation.

The gloves are a gift for the universal right to bad habits.'

The owner's.

What is it?

Spanish bean stew.

lt tastes of there.

lt tastes of there,

of home.

One good deed deserves another.

We want to, we need to,

We're going to kill Franco.

For our honor,

For our pain,

We're going to kill,

We're going to kill Franco.

Now, explain that bourgeois democracy thing.

lt's an anarchist invention...

They stay really late...

don't buy anything,

it's not fair.

Take note of what proletarian politics is.

You have a date. Go!

We're not going to rob you. We rob your boss...

when you go in the kitchen to jerk off.

This is class war. Understand? Class war.

You're humiliating him. Shit, Madariaga.

lf you have a date, go. lgnore his jokes.

Not jokes, shock politics..

to wake hate for the boss in the exploited.

Keep on picking on him and you'll be toothless.

Fuck you and your family.

Apologize on your knees...

on your mother's and my mother's graves.

-See you tomorrow. -Bye.

See you later.

So it's true that you have a free night.

The fight will be over if you're going.

Sometimes people lose their wits.

Don't listen to him.

Don't listen to us. We're just consumed by anger.

lt's not easy being the loser.

You want revenge from whoever crosses your path.

And then...

an unthought of generosity appears,

unexpectedly.

Take Toledano.

He had me...

before the firing squad.

l was already worm food.

Now you live in his printing press.

You found Splendor there and stole my hideout.

And if we share your hideout?

You have your times and l'll have mine.

Your hideout will be my photo studio

l'm an artist of photography.

Well, that's what l was until the war.

The war came...

and all l got was a bullet hole,

although it was a glorious bullet.

Stick a finger in.

Not that one, your thumb.

Feel it.

Feel it, damn it! Feel it!

Go on, go. You've got your own problems.

And let me make it clear, the war, not age...

turned me into an irreverent old man.

Sleep well...

Leave, or you'll pay dearly.

l'm looking for Lola.

Fair skinned.

All made-up.

'Mikado...

Meet me at our hideout.

Death to the ruling class.

Signed, the Mikado.'

Asshole.

lngrate.

Weren't we pals?

Take your gags and jokes and go to hell.

The class thing upset you?

The Mikado thing. Some call me that.

How did you know?

Because you sing it all the time. Why else?

And because when l was in Russia, in Vladivostok,

my comrades in the Red Army called me Mikado.

l'd sing it and sing it, all day long l'd sing it.

lt was my battle name. Mikado.

Because l like it and l fucking feel like it.

ln this life, everything that you fucking feel like doing,

is worth it.

Go figure.

You really could've been the Mikado.

Not me.

lf l sing a little bit of it, they lay into me.

That l'm a fag, that l'm queer.

But not anymore.

Enough's enough.

l'll bust anyone's face who lays into me or the Mikado.

That's the way to talk...

with bravado.

Here's my secret.

l'm not just a common photographer.

l'm a revolutionary artist.

Anarchist, deist, and visionary.

l'm doing 'The Autarchist World History' according to Bakunin...

Sit.

A gem.

Look...

Moses and the Hebrews.

Moses and the Hebrews,

Spartacus's rebellion,

corruption of the papal Curia,

Pope Borgia,

The Civil War, the freeing of the slaves,

the United States.

l'm also preparing the fall of Tenochtitlan.

lt's easier here because of the natives.

Everything with a libertarian view, of course.

The whores and market porters...

come as my models.

The Fall of the Bastille.

Since it deals with the masses,

l gave it my libertarian interpretation.

Naked prisoners?

Economic censorship, the bourgeois weapon.

But we're all equal naked.

l'm behind for lack of time, of money.

Damn, how it ruins everything.

Sometimes...

l have 'cochon' photo sessions.

Dirty.

That's why l borrowed your tittie photos.

l took photos of your photos and that's that.

l also shoot wrestlers.

l haven't found a stand-in for that.

l haven't shown anyone.

You're the first.

The others don't understand.

They'd be arguing all day about the flags,

the Second lnternational...

Meanwhile, l make my evocative montages,

and film them with this small camera.

l reset history. 'The Autarchist World History'.

l'll use Eisenstein's editing technique.

That way, l'll screw both the Bolsheviks,

and lndalecio Prieto once and for all.

Why are you telling me?

l need someone to sew costumes.

Me?

Who else?

And it does me good...

to talk to someone who doesn't have a clue about the Fifth Regiment.

l'll do the costumes.

Bakunin.

-You're sure you want to help me? -Yes.

To shoot wrestlers doing their bit,

l only do it for the money.

Human scum disgusts me.

Don't say that. My lmelda also goes to matches.

When she goes, she quits whoring.

She likes wrestling.

When blood starts flowing, she says,

'See? lt's not just life that busts our ass.

One can also do it to others.'

That's what l like about you, Raquel, your egalitarian spirit.

-What about you Nacho? -Gardenia Wilson.

Ok, place yourselves...

and smile slyly. You look like angels.

Fix his mask. lt's crooked. He looks blind.

He's unkempt and he shouldn't be reaping pity.

Let me. lt's like you understand nothing.

And l mean nothing.

There, that's better.

Be still.

Smile.

What?

What do you want?

What you looking at?

Do l have two heads or are you following me...

'cause you fell for the story that l'm a fag?

Because l'll show you real fast that it was a publicity stunt.

l come because of Lola.

Jesus, Jesus, free me from the devil!

lt was like getting rid of scabies.

-Lola? -She followed me everywhere.

She spied on me. She took it badly.

l've never liked women that beg.

Must be that foreign women never had a Mexican mother.

Man to man, don't even look for her, because you'll find her.

And if you do, you'll never be rid of her.

Ok buddy, leave. lt's time to take off my mask.

What?

What?

You want to see my face to see if l'm macho.

l am, and l'm reliable. When l perform, l perform.

Look at her.

The days that l serviced her, l serviced her good...

Scram!

Gerardo from the cafe.

And fuck Stalin because the son of a bitch had Durruti killed.

You'll see when Franco dies.

Go to hell. Communists don't shoot you in the back.

We'll deal with the traitors when Franco dies.

So now, to screw the anarchist comrades, you have to vindicate Franco.

No, it's not that.

The only thing to be done is to go kill Franco.

A long road awaits,

Awaits,

Until Franco's death,

Franco's death,

The ocean and nostalgia,

lnvade the soul,

We must kill,

Franco must be killed.

Careful, it's the only one that cuts the grease.

Don't know why you're mad at the damn refugees.

A burned table's the boss's deal.

Let his day be ruined.

lgnore it...

keep to what concerns you, and that's that.

Look at me.

The Spaniards were pains in the ass the other day.

That lentil soup doesn't have bananas.

That it has pieces of who the fuck knows what.

And l told Don Lazaro,

l don't care. l make what l make.

What did he do?

Huh? He put the chorizo in and took the bananas out himself.

And if they say that only melons there are tasty,

l could care less.

l don't get gloomy. l mind my own business.

l train here daily and some day, when you least expect it,

l'll be in the papers,

or in the Coliseo's programs. l swear on my mother's grave.

Will you give me a shot?

Will you train me?

-Boxing? -No, wrestling.

l want to be a masked wrestler.

l train but it's not enough.

No buddy, no way.

Boxing is serious. They bust your ass.

Wrestling's all fake.

l won't stoop. Get another.

-Where? -Where? Where do you think, idiot?

Right here with your clientele.

You'd think you'd lost your brains.

Again? l didn't put bananas in the soup this time.

No, buddy, no. You added epazote.

You couldn't do worse.

What are you going to add next? Papaloquelite?

Don't give me any ideas.

The refugee's table is calling.

lt's burnt out.

Get another bulb. lt's darker than your soul here.

l beg your pardon?

-They say lantern in these parts. -Don't know if there are any.

Let's take that one.

The cash register's.

The cash register's?

Even better.

They'll replace that one.

Let's see if they lose the bad habit...

of scrimping at the customer's expense.

There.

And don't say: 'l beg your pardon'

Don't stoop. No one's above you here. You're no slave.

Countryman,

l'd stop fucking with him if l were you.

That's how they speak here.

And he isn't a lackey.

You're just different souls

and it's you who must adapt.

l'm just warning you because one day,

this one that looks so meek,

or any other from around here,

will come on the sly,

and kick your ass.

That's how it's done here.

Thanks.

That's why they piss me off.

They love to rattle on,

but in six months, they haven't touched a damned tortilla.

Poor devils.

Their life is ruined, torn apart.

Any time that they or l...

cling to something, it's to stop from losing what we left behind.

There are mornings...

mornings that l wake up in a cold sweat...

and say l'll be someone else,

a nobody.

No one shortcuts life, Mikado,

no one.

lt just goes on.

Don't take it badly, Nacho.

They came here.

They have to make an effort to adapt.

Toledano only says:

'Bring this, bring that.'

Not one if you may or thank you.

lt's not if you may, it's your job.

Manners are manners and they never hurt anyone.

You wound up here.

Now you're fucked.

Give me that.

No one...

None of you...

are going to appear with a tacky heart-shaped mole on the...

-Cheek. -Cheek...right.

No prissiness.

This is art,

even if it doesn't sink into your skull.

lf you please, ladies...

lf you think you'll get one cent from me, you're wrong.

Touch me or not, that's your deal.

l do it for money,

but one also sells one's time and God knows l've given you that.

l came for him...

and not you nor anyone else is going to take him from me.

Gardenia heard you come,

and left like a bat out of hell.

He's over you.

Call him, you damn whore...

Call him.

Tell him to take me to hell with him.

What are you looking at?

What are you looking at?

What?

Can't she grieve in peace?

You'd give your right arm for me.

And my left as well.

lf l go with you, will you be content with nothing?

You'll never touch my flesh.

Not even a kiss.

We whores know that kisses are treacherous.

ln the long run,

they wind up...

stealing your mind,

drying up your soul.

That's what happened with him

and it's never happening again.

Not one kiss.

Never ever.

Poor devil.

You're entering hell,

my hell,

and even l can't stop it.

Forget about making me a teetotaler.

l drink wine.

And not the kind that you steal from your boss, the fat tub.

l want one that's bought, one that costs you.

Let him enjoy and let her see red.

l used to dance naked with black panthers in the Petroff Circus.

Never heard of it?

You'd love it...

We took it to the Pigalle in Paris.

Gardenia wants to take it to Hollywood.

Did l tell you he's been hired?

Some guys offered him a contract.

He doesn't have an act and l said, 'Take mine.'

Together onstage.

We're going to fuck onstage.

l, dressed as a man, will take his girl's suit off.

l get wet talking about it.

Feel how wet l am.

No...

better to leave it,

l'll jerk off and that's that.

You'll help me get him to Hollywood?

Convince him for us to go together?

Go on, give him what you have.

Talk.

Here's for the train to Tijuana,

and for the bus to Los Angeles.

Second class.

lt's for you two to go to Hollywood like you promised.

lt's my savings.

l didn't steal it.

No fella...

l'm not playing that nut's game.

And stop bothering me already.

A couple of rolls in the hay,

just a couple, and she won't stop pestering me.

l'm married, with a family.

And if l went with someone,

it wouldn't be this vulgar, pleading whore.

Leave her, man,

break free.

l know this type, they suck you dry.

-Take it. -Goddamnit, leave me alone.

Take it.

Leave me alone or l'll bust your ass.

Goddamnit... get out.

Do l scare you?

You all call me bitch, whore, cunt and worse.

Well look at the depth of my ilk.

Lick me...

Lick me, animal.

Lick me like you do at home.

No hands, no touching, just your tongue.

On the sole.

l went to the Coliseo this morning and heard it there.

l'm not a messenger, but Gardenia Wilson's gone.

Even his locker is empty.

Wash your face so they don't see your tears.

l told you. Not even as an extra.

You thought he'd be on the screen in a month?

Or he changed his name.

No one called Gardenia goes to Hollywood to be an actor.

The favors l do for Nacho.

To come with you to this piece of shit.

Didn't even want to see this movie.

And her, Davis...

stoops to beg to that goose-faced Fonda.

Not her, she's a woman of stature.

Damn, not only a bitch but a thief.

You stole the photo.

ldiot, you've just screwed me.

They'll blame me.

Almost no one goes to the four o'clock show.

They know and like me there.

But what's it to you? You only care about yourself.

-Do l look like her? -ln your dreams.

No, you look nothing like her.

And stop making yourself up like a clown.

l can't even take you to the movies.

What can l do with you in the evenings, huh?

Where can l take you where you won't mess up?

lf you escape from me, it'll break Nacho's heart and ruin his life.

lt's not fair.

Look...

-Same cheekbones. -Exactly the same.

What fantasies you have.

Even if you looked like her, you're not like her.

You and l were born on the loser's side of life.

We don't get to look like anyone.

That's why...

l wake up sometimes and say,

lf only l could be someone else for a little while today,

one of the lucky ones...

with no inner demons, who doesn't destroy everything she touches.

When l was little, l'd hang on my mother's petticoat

and she'd say:

'Come on, get away, clumsy.'

And l adored her in vain.

l never knew why l annoyed her.

And l'd say,

Could it be my mischievous look?

God gave it to me. l didn't ask for it.

That's why l say,

what if l'm someone else?

With another face,

another life?

l might even wind up liking Nacho.

That's why l say,

why can't life give me another life?

lt can't.

You are what your are.

You think l'm not dying to love him gently,

and not break his heart in pieces?

But l can't control my heart.

Try.

Make believe.

Could be that in the end,

you even wind up being fond of him.

He cherishes your every breath.

So much so that he sucks out my soul.

And everyone's happy. Go on, leave her fighting for air.

Martyrs get all the pity and all the praise.

You think l like leaving a trail of sorrow wherever l go?

l look in the mirror and say,

'You're fucked, Lola.

You got to be you.'

Do you know what it's like hoping to have another face?

Another look in my eyes? Another soul?

No one likes to be themselves.

Life is wishing for someone else's life.

lt's more than wishing for me...

And it doesn't sink into your dumb friend's head.

l'm up front.

l warned him. l was frank.

He deserves it...

and l deserve it.

Warning isn't enough.

Don't l look a bit like Barbara Stanwyck?

Her interesting look.

lmelda says she's Bette Davis.

l say, l'm the very same Barbara.

Did he appear?

Did Gardenia appear?

Do l have to spell it out for you?

No, l didn't see him onscreen.

You know what?

l want you out of the room.

You smell.

You stink.

Must be from bathing so much...

-l'll change my soap. -No.

lt isn't about not bathing.

Don't you understand?

l want you out of the room.

To sleep outside?

Cheer up.

They say it's healthy.

You know,

l feel cooped up on evenings like this.

l feel like going out,

and seeing moms with babies in their arms,

and buying chestnuts and dancing.

l'll take you to the movies,

l'll take you out,

l'll buy you chestnuts,

l'll take you dancing,

to the end of the world.

Your mouth has the scent of gardenias,

your look has gorgeous sparkles of light.

You're not with me, are you?

You're with him.

Today, it's with you.

You and me.

Tomorrow, who knows?

No one writes on anyone's heart.

But these two minutes are with you.

The end.

Kaput.

Your two minutes are over.

See? That's how l am.

Pity, huh?

But those two minutes were mine.

You were mine for two minutes.

Two whole minutes...

The photos...

Your photos.

They get you hot.

They make you horny. That's why you watch me.

Burn them.

No,

not my photos.

-What do they have to do with anything? -l want them burned to ashes.

ln the basin where you wash my feet.

Not my photos,

damn it!

lt's a valuable collection.

Krieger, the German from the Ofelia, left me them.

Even better. Everything that's German stinks nowadays.

Go on. l don't have your time.

Don't you know being a tyrant is hard?

l swear l gave you my two minutes.

All of them.

We've been at it all morning.

lt's Lenin you're messing with. Go vent your anger somewhere else.

Hit me. Hit me, Mikado.

Kill me, kick my ass Mikado.

Look what l do so you beat the shit out of me.

Have you gone crazy?

Can't you see that l'm doomed?

She told me.

She warned me really clearly:

'The reaper will get you '

And the bloodsucker did.

Hit me, Mikado.

-Kick my ass. -Stop acting like a fool.

Mr. Mikado and l have no reason to put up with your antics.

Stop arousing pity.

Do l arouse anything but pity?

Look Raquel...

look.

Her?

No, my friend.

l deserve it.

To each his faults.

No one's forced to do anything.

Only one tit got burned.

lt's ok, man. lt's ok.

l'll photograph your photos, develop them, and good as new.

More was lost in the war.

My mother lost an arm.

Come off it, it may not be an arm, but they're his photos.

The ones you jerk off to.

The whole arm, not even a stump to push her spoon.

Come here, come here.

Can you get her out of your heart?

Then get her a job.

Don't keep her locked up. Gilded cages degrade the soul.

Let her work,

give her space.

What if she leaves?

What if she leaves me?

Talk to Don Lazaro. He likes you.

She's from his country. l'm sure he'll find her something.

Let's keep working, Don Mikado.

lt seems biased to me.

l'm serious, starting tomorrow, l'll only do the register.

Carrying trays isn't for me.

'Starting tomorrow, only the register.'

Ok...

she won't get any tips. What an idiot.

l'll vouch for her.

People who say such things also wind up playing the fool.

You never told me you liked them.

No?

l haven't told you that nor a lot of other things.

l haven't told you, and l probably never will.

And l'm not used to being watched over.

l don't like watchdogs.

Lola, two coffees please.

-But l asked her for them. -l'll take your order.

l prefer her.

Don't be like that, it's not about the tip.

She's from our country

and we want to give her the first book we've published.

She was in the UGT union during the Republic.

She isn't Spanish.

She's German...

German and Russian.

And l'm an African cannibal. She conned you.

How many have you printed?

Because no one will care except for us.

What do you mean, no one?

They already had a revolution here but it was a peasant one.

The Bolshevik's don't like that.

lt was a riot, not a revolution. Lenin already said that.

When Franco dies and you go home, you'll see how giving they are here.

Watch it, you'll cut yourself up.

As if you were a fakir. You're not even a wrestler.

Oh man...

Damn glove,

at least if it were panties...

The men that you kiss,

Stay in your head,

And the men you don't kiss,

You make them sad,

l committed the sin of kissing you so many times,

That you've been etched,

lnside my thick bush.

German, German...

This one's more Spanish than castanets.

Dance for you?

As if l were a sideshow act. Did you buy me?

What the fuck do l owe you to dance for you just like that?

Want to see how they looked at my legs?

They saw my bush, you know.

You think they're like you? Sexless runts?

They made a revolution.

You jerk off in corners.

Since when are you interested in politics?

Why do you talk to them so much?

You're just a phony acting like you care about the war,

and they play along, acting as if you were involved.

As far as the war and those who lost it,

have the decency to exclude them from your silly sorrows.

They've suffered enough.

And stop following and suffocating me.

You want to keep me prisoner, shut in.

You want to touch me.

You want to touch this white skin that obsesses you,

and that you'll never ever dare touch.

l need opium...

lt's like a secret link, Raquelito.

A blood link.

They're white like her, and l'm...a damn lndian.

Did you see her with them?

All smiles and singing and flirting.

She even started in with the war and the revolution.

Don't we know it...

She's a foreigner.

They come defeated,

We were born like that,

And it's very clear to us,

So a little bird said,

That she isn't one of us, she's one of them.

That she isn't one of us, she's one of them.

Your water, sir.

Thanks, Nacho.

To whoever plays against Asturias, damnit.

The Asturias is a Spanish team. One of ours.

To hell with me,

and mine. None of us has dared to do what must me done.

-Kill the tyrant. -Come on.

Here, we the losers lick our wounds with bla, bla, bla.

Political assassination is the only way to cure exile.

Yell, yell...The Ministry of the lnterior's at the next table.

Oh yeah?

All that's left us is to keep quiet?

Fuck lnterior, and your mother.

Come on, shut up!

Welcome...

Welcome...

What'll you have?

What'll you have?

Didn't you like that damn ball?

Break it and you're fucked. They don't make them anymore.

No need to get mad, dammit.

-Good night. -Bye.

New blood from the new world,

because none of my prudish and timid cafe comrades...

have the balls to kill.

That was the ritual of your gods, of your Huichilante.

Huichilopoxtli, and l'm not up for your shit.

l brought her the opium, and nothing.

She just moans for Gardenia Wilson.

Then you're better off with my shit.

l know her,

like l know my own.

You'll lose her scorn when they respect you.

A while ago...

l heard her talk about killing Franco.

l'll do it.

l'll go and bang,

fill him full of lead and that's that.

Who'd suspect a Mexican waiter?

Then she came out with some story about killing Franco.

lf she says so,

there must be a reason.

lf you ask me.

And just like in the movies, she melts in your arms.

Ok, if you please...

Over here, up front...

Play on with more fervor and more militarily, if you may.

Come on,

take it off, dammit, take it off.

A sequin gown.

lt's for her.

lt's Mikado's idea.

You're Cortez and she's his lover, Malinche.

That'll give history a revolutionary twist.

You might even get her to like you with this. She'll love it.

lt isn't obvious, but she's a sucker for clothes.

Does it look good on me?

l look like her, don't l?

lt's a shame, huh?

What fucking a shame.

l've done it again.

Today, she robbed me.

Tomorrow, it'll be you.

That one can't open her heart to anything or anyone.

l won't call the police.

That way, you won't piss them off and get the shit beat out of you.

And take note,

l don't expect any thanks.

l only expect...

that you stop acting like a fool.

l've got to kill Franco and you've got to help me.

Look at you, naked, with a crazed look in your eyes.

Listen closely Nacho, not even love potions brainwash people so.

Look Raquel, look.

Why the hell are you going to kill Franco? You could care less.

lt's a gift.

Then she'll know how much l love her.

Now you've really lost it. Go to your room, get some sense.

We'll talk tomorrow.

Because l'm dark skinned, right?

Straight hair, brown-skinned?

Now you'll see, bitch...

You'll see if l can't make miracles...

and wind up as white as your fucking countrymen.

Who in their right mind...?

Quicklime doesn't whiten, it only leaves your skin raw.

Look at yourself, worse than the Mikado.

You look like a Christ on the cross.

This is the photo l'm missing.

Christ in an anarchist loincloth,

with a flag that says long live death.

He was good at death.

Stop talking shit and keep on with the cream.

Nachito, l have a proposal and a solution. The perfect solution.

The true death of Francisco Franco

He's a waiter

He's a hero

The Mikado

He was a wrestler... a masked one.

He'll kill Franco tomorrow

The murder weapon

His gift of love

He travels to Spain

Long live Franco

He's coming...!

Here comes the Caudillo

Chaos, chaos

He's killed Franco

A loaded gun...

Who in his right mind would think of such a thing?

Blood...

lt's Franco.

l killed him...

l killed Franco.

lt's just a game, don't be an idiot.

You really killed Franco?

Listen to this, it's come out in ABC.

'The Pardo palace issued a statement

that strongly denies rumors of a murder attempt on the Caudillo

on the day of the parade.

But rumors exist that the Caudillo...

has physical changes barely noticeable to the untrained eye...

a few inches taller, a flatter skull,

a less fluty voice...'

They're tactics... to create confusion.

This, although it's false, deserves a toast.

The drinks are on the house.

Since when are you a republican?

Since today.

Don't spoil my afternoon.

She's his slave...

their love will be eternal.

Coming soon