Original subtitles

Have you missed me?

What have you been doing?

Short hugs, some trips...

When you were with me, you were not supporter of short hugs.

You do, and I prefer not to remember.

I hardly write anymore, but at the congress a year ago,

let's see what you think,

Winds of the three days.

"First North Wind fiery decipher

my naked body

Steal blood,

pierces moist entrails and he goes".

Go on.

It is not mine.

That uncle...! Suicide!

I told you I wouldn't come if you drank.

If you came alone, Dad wouldn't let me have the car.

Very funny. You're drunk?

No. I swear on my daughter.

YOU don't recycle?

He doesn't make me happy. Not one more drop.

I do not need it.

Not with you. Even if you are...

cold and inhuman.

And perverse.

A little further to the left.

No no no! Don't drop it!

To the corral! like your aunt She sees them in the garden, she kills me.

Manolita, they're here!

The bishop!

-Aunt! Wait.

I can't right now, darlings!

Hello, Sagrario!

Beautiful!

-But what are you doing with that car? I thought it was monsignor!

Hello, Nívea, daughter. Hello.

-Are you Changa? Juan Changa?

-This is Alejandro Cárdenas, Manolita's nephew.

Eh... He is invited. He is a rapper.

-I am a poet, Alex Cuero. You are Juan Changa. A pleasure.

The broken lip, dog eyes... Like Argos.

Ulysses' fucking dog in the Odyssey. Don't fuck with me!

Look at him!

-You're leaving but that's it. Longingly I call monsignor.

If Juanjo leaves, I'll leave too.

Tabernacle, pretty, if he is not going to bother almost.

You don't know how he has changed. I'm impressed!

Manolita! -Aunt!

I'm here, no need to shout!

Juanjo, What a surprise that you came!

Ooh!

Hello, Nívea, beautiful!

I'm very happy!

We will have to find a place for it to Juanjo.

Watermelon.

-What a cool place, right?

-It's a mansion. -Ah. There isn't one in Madrid.

-Hello!

Look at that, please.

-Can I give you a hand with things?

-I would like nothing more.

-I say with the luggage.

-We have understood you perfectly. At least I.

-Where are you going? -To town, to pick up the paella pan.

-You are abysmal, completely abysmal.

-"What abyss formed nature

where the ray of your light won't come in?"

-It will be less!

-Skates!

You here. Man!

It's the same as last year. -Have you seen Eugenio Alpuente?

He came on a motorcycle

and I can't find it.

I am Dámaso Loperete, from Tudela. AHA.

You are Nívea Ariel, right?

"Snowy beauty,

that burns like fire."

It's the first year I've come.

I hope the last one.

Evangelina Lopez, IT, from Murcia.

The Nívea.

And it burns.

You won't think of leaving Juanjo here!

Here the bishop rules and I represent you.

Who runs the inn? You or I?

Before always You gave me the best room.

There is a toilet in the hallway, but the chain doesn't work.

The bathroom is two floors down. Ah!

And to the closing building don't even get close. I know you.

My sweet ox, you have what you deserve.

You know what you do.

Please don't treat me like an older person.

Start writing again, please. You were stunning!

I'm only interested in this.

And what are you doing

again with Nívea?

What does it matter to you?

How did you find it?

Very good, for that! Do you want to mess up again?

I'm going back to her.

If you leave us alone.

"Look from afar to see up close."

-To see up close.

-To see up close.

-I'm in love from a hairdresser from Alcobendas.

-You loved it. -Yeah.

You are so ordinary...

-I'm self-taught.

Shall we fuck?

-No, I'm writing a poem to dad.

-Shall I do your highlights?

-The highlights are vintage.

-Shall we go down to meet famous people?

William Dalmases!

How wonderful to have you here!

It is an honor.

What a disappointment.

Manolita la Roja, recycled

in business woman.

-With the help of baby Jesus.

Who has seen and who sees you. How many years.

From Moscow, I think.

Federica, the commissioner. You have not changed anything.

-That man is the last living anti-Franco poet.

-And this is good?

-Hello! Put.

Now I.

Thank you!

Hello, Mr. vintage. Look.

We look at the camera, we smile...

Thanks, it's for the networks!

-Susana is superinfluencer.

He has half a million followers.

These girls are the present!

-Here we go.

-Manolita?

I ask about Eugenio Alpuente, who came on a motorcycle.

And you would be...?

I am Dámaso Loperete, friend of Eugenio.

I come from Tudela.

Oh, and what are you doing here?

Eugenio asked you to invite me. Me?

I wrote the essay about Valente which won the Brief Litoral Award.

Ah! I don't know...

-Manolita, love, it's in the garden Amelia Solórzano in a psychotic way!

Amelia!

Have you seen this tree?

Completely Rilke, the son of a bitch!

Last year it was the same as Rilke.

You should cut it!

The trees are good.

Um... I mean, in general. Let's go.

No!

Oh my God! Alex!

Nobody spoke to me on the minibus!

Everyone leaves me alone because I'm annoying!

Carmelo Echeverrieta, handsome, brings you heaven!

Please help me! Hey...

Look at him, what a rat!

-Old coward!

Bald! Alex!

Poets? They are intolerable! A bunch of hysterical vain people.

No, Sagrario.

and you have me distressed with such benevolence.

They are a little like everyone else, in their own way.

Have charity.

You guys, Manolita! Every year the same.

You have no sensitivity!

That poetry is important.

It doesn't leave a penny. The bishop wants to take away your subsidy

and organize a conference of children's folklore, he looks.

That? You leave me? Do you do business behind my back?

What I do not understand It's the bishop's thing with the children.

Let's see, has the photographer arrived?

Oh, Carmelo!

Go Go, everyone to the stairs!

Oh, William, William, William!

How handsome you are!

Come on come on!

Let's see, are we all here?

Bells! Tell them to shut up!

It's the angelus.

-Vanessita, what's wrong?

-Nothing, Mateo, I have stumbled.

Come on, Mateo.

Stand here, academic.

-Yeah. That only you are missing.

Come.

No.

The Apple.

Omelet!

We dedicate this glass to you

to Don Guillermo Dalmases, who honors

with your presence this little arcadia.

What is arcadia?

...we come back every year. -A bar, I think.

It's a perfect day to work.

You are perfect, Eugenio.

Man...

Juanjo Changa.

The same.

Is La Nívea here?

He has come with me.

With you? AHA.

What has he given you?

An attack of delirium tremens or what?

The topic will not be the truth neither beauty nor Arcadia.

The theme of our works at congress this year

It's quite a challenge.

The transcendence!

The transcendence! What an old thing!

-Ah, come on, Manolita! Do not bother!

Let's not disperse, come on.

Little joke with transcendence.

It is useful and necessary.

What if we stop fooling around? and we speak, like poets

What do we say we are, of the ineffable?

-That's it, Eugenio!

-That, dear Eugenio, consists of precisely the transcendence.

If you hadn't arrived late, you would know.

-You don't realize. has arrived late

just to get attention.

-Oh, sorry!

It has been an entry...

stupendous Corny.

-They have no solution.

Shut up, dammit!

Few jokes with me,

that you are not going to teach him to eat meat to a cannibal!

-Hey, Let's see if we improve the appetizer.

-What's up with that?

Child Jesus,

I'm creeped out! I don't know why I'm telling this to you,

poor thing, it's not your fault You're welcome, but what do you think?

the riffraff more... what do I know What does Manolita bring me?

-Ladder!

Darling!

Watermelon!

Ah, but you weren't downstairs?

Yes, but I have changed rooms with Dámaso in case you need anything.

How nice.

I'm leaving, I'm leaving.

Do not close!

Do you remember him, from last year?

Um... Vaguely. Who has he eaten this time?

To nobody!

They arrested him upon entering his country.

Here, distribute them.

Are you still in contact with him?

No way. They will surely beat him up.

Nívea...

You and I had something pending since last year.

Oh yeah?

I didn't remember, mind you.

Hello, Juanjo.

Nívea, they say there will be showers weekend. What is your plan?

I? Work. Come on, get out, get out.

Out. Leave me alone, both of you. Share this.

Out!

Thank you!

Eugenio, it's about time that you introduce me. I am Damaso...

Ah, but yes... What a mess! With so many people...

How are these from Opus, eh?

Did YOU know that at Nívea do you like black people?

Eugene!

So simple, so nice and you are a viper!

Tachan!

He's already there.

My father had a chain of hardware stores in Alcobendas.

-Well, I have come here for my aunt Manolita.

At first the poetry made me laugh, but later...

I gave her her first joint...

...and now we're both laughing.

Little, because I live in Ferrol and she lives in Madrid.

Get on here. Come, come.

Hey, yeah... -Vanessita.

-Yeah? -Have you cleaned up your work?

-Yeah. Yeah.

-Keep going, higher!

Higher!

-Hey, Mateo, I'm going to go down for a moment.

-Don't be late, I have to dictate to you.

-No no! -And stop biting your nails,

I hear you

Now, now, now, now!

-Can?

Can I, can I? .

-Not so strong. -Sorry, have I hurt you?

Ugh, it's hot!

It's because of Hamlet.

-To be or not to be?

-Wow, how are these getting!

-And you are girlfriends? -Yeah.

-Yeah.

-When I went to live with Mateo, What a chicken my family assembled.

-And he was already blind? -Is it going well like this?

-What is it like to make love with blind people?

-Conchi, aunt! -What's happening?

The grass is sweet.

It will rain.

-I'm not afraid of storms.

-Are you pushing me?

-My hair!

Come here!

The thing is...

Come, come!

-Come, come!

Come on! -You're crazy, aunt.

Vanessa!

Vanessa!

Carlos Luis Cabral,

when will we have this anthology?

I calculate that stops in six months.

AHA. You will return to my program when this happens.

And you too, Gonzalito. The cover is beautiful. Congratulations.

-Thank you.

We make a good team Carlos Luis and me.

This was Gonçalo Renteiro, the portuguese artist author

from the cover illustration, which, by the way...

-They are gathered.

I am saddened.

Amelia has been face down for half an hour in the chapel and she doesn't recognize him.

Well, she prays, Tabernacle, she prays.

I have already prayed. You are an idiot!

Carlos Luis, we would like to know what names will appear

in this anthology, authentic canon

of our poetry.

-On the one hand, realists like Gastón, Lucio Villas,

Juan Changa,

and metaphysicians, Manuel Muro,

Carmelo, our Carmelo, of course...

And the Nivea?

Isn't there the Nivea? You...!

You.

You are a miserable skin of pride

with common man's shaves.

That.

-Juanjo, you are an idiot.

You take care of Guillermo. He's dead, I think.

Leave out the Nivea, meteorologist of the revolution,

executioner of rogues! Get your anthology

in the ass! Juan!

-You...!

Cheesy, stupid!

Pathetic miniaturist of desire!

-Are you angry with me, young?

No!

No no no no! No.

How can I get angry Not with you, Don Guillermo!

Excuse me for waking you up.

Oh. I'm glad he's alive.

Me too.

Uh... Sorry.

It's... abstinence.

-Don't cry!

Well, guys, uh... He's raining, huh...

Can I stay? That's what I was coming for.

-No.

No, Juanjo. Look, he's already clearing.

It doesn't rain anymore.

Oh, and what happened with Nívea is a shame.

Remove him from the anthology. -No.

"Miniaturist of desire." It is wonderful.

I hope Changa writes again.

-Manolita!

Come! Come!

Now now.

Very good. But you have never believed in God!

-Well, I'm starting to suspect that he has a thing for me!

-What pretensions. The misfortunes They are steps to heaven.

Don't be stupid. -Yes she said it!

Hala, you stay here watching Let no one steal the books.

-Here alone? No way! I prefer to die.

Okay, and so you leave a little calm the others.

-Eh eh! Quiet.

But...

Whoops!

Where are my skates?

If it's not...

an anthology.

IS...

the anthology.

I'm finished!

And wouldn't it have been the Portuguese boyfriend?

He has eaten her brain!

AHA.

Gonzalito is...

That's atrocious!

Oh, he is atrocious! And what do you want? I kill him?

It can't be done!

Hello!

Have I heard Nivea cry? Is she bothering you?

She has given me horrible news!

That's enough for you, asshole. I hope this time it's unintentional.

Yes, this time...

You look very pretty when you cry. TRUE?

I'm leaving so I don't vomit.

You are ugly, you are stupid, and I, a big mouth for telling you anything.

I have come to see your sarcophagus. It fucking freaks me out!

Can I take it?

Sorry?

Nothing nothing.

I do not drink. Do you want a joint?

You look like you want a joint. Yeah?

I don't look like I want a joint.

I have a face of counting to ten.

Hey, I hate this morning You called me a dog.

That dog was motivated.

And ten.

My aunt Manolita read me The habits of the arsonist, your book,

and she blew me away, man. It's brutal! You're a machine!

And what else?

Well, my aunt says that poetry It is an almond field

that from time to time blooms,

but your book He set the almond trees on fire, damn it.

That's why I must be so burned out.

If you want to learn something from me, works,

morro rajao, Hawaiian spawn.

"Take up your daily cross and follow me."

"Follow not the tastiest, but to the most tasteless.

Follow not the most pleasant, but to what gives less pleasure".

It is from San Juan de la Cruz. Don't fuck with me, don't take me

for being ignorant, like in police stations,

when my ass is pelao to build bridges

to cars more beautiful than yours, trunk!

Rage!

I should do something crazy!

Fuck them alive... I will help you.

I am not able.

Maybe that's why I don't have talent.

Cross the mirror.

Yes, Alicia is me!

Miss Maravillas.

¡Bah!

I would eat your pancreas,

the kidneys and even the memory.

I would gnaw your nails how you perceive it fresh.

I'll make you cookies if you want.

Let's do something what do you want to do

with all your strength.

And then...

we make love.

Hey, the card is mine!

If I was going to give it back to you, eh?

Yeah I know. Eh eh.

You watch the window.

You have no blood.

No) you don't have blood!

-No? -No, you don't have one!

Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh!

No, you don't have blood!

What a stupid password!

I'm great!

I'm great!

Are you going to throw all the folders at him?

Everything from the anthology:

the selected poems,

critical work... Everything.

For miserable!

You are a crack. It's nice to see you like this!

I feel much less scratched.

Nívea.

Who has a tutu!

Are you an idiot? Leave that where it was!

He's there, he's there, he's almost there...!

That's it!

They are moving, they are moving.

You see how easy it was, right?

Nívea, shall we make a tiktok?

No, no, I'm horrible.

But what are you saying? If you are always beautiful.

Come.

Say something transcendent.

"May my evil reach so much."

It's from Quevedo.

Cool!

I think this is yours.

-And the other?

-Is there another computer? -The other skate.

-Oh I do not know.

Manolita told me let me bring you the computer

and to keep you company. Where is

sharpener?

-I do not deserve this!

-Et voila!

If I don't do you this favor, He doesn't take me to his radio show.

-Don't talk to me or bother me. I suffer a lot!

-Ah, well, I appreciate it.

The thing about not talking. I don't care about suffering.

-Oh, The widower has a sense of humor!

-That was not my intention.

"Oh, crystalline fountain,

yes in those your silver countenances

you suddenly form the desired eyes that I have

drawn in my guts!"

Holy God! Shall I give you a leaflet?

Fakers, cobras!

Whitewashed tombs, who can heal you!

Sister. Hey!

Good people, can I go with you guys?

No?

Look it's me.

It's me.

I said it's me. You do not hear me?

-Much much.

-Much?

-Didn't you say I didn't talk to you?

Come on, Amelia, Leave Carmelo alone.

-It is foolish!

And you, an official.

-The same as you and me.

If you bought a book, Remember that he doesn't trust you.

Everything in cash. -Mercenary, ordinary!

-But a good organizer.

-Routine, vulgar and passionate.

You are meek.

-And you, a bore.

-I already know it.

Do you like jazz?

Before he gets upset.

Yes, I'll tell her as soon as I see her.

Clear. Oh.

We were talking about you. Come sit with us.

Not now, thank you.

There is one thing What I would like to clarify with you.

Now?

There has been a misunderstanding. Oh yeah?

Look how on purpose. Miss?

You're like suffocated.

Well, a little strange dancing at this time.

Are you okay?

Yeah.

A while ago, your friend Changa has heard me list

to the poets of the anthology.

And he has raised the cry in the sky because you were not there.

Well, I'm not.

AND? Which was the men's list.

As?

Then there is that of women.

And of course you are!

Pussy! The first.

In case Changa had said something.

Me? No!

Besides, I don't care about him. I mean, no, that's great!

Excellent!

You're still red!

AND And beautiful!

"Nívea full of blood and desire."

Like that poem of yours which I like so much.

It's from Anorexic Musa.

They say it's my best book.

-If I didn't like them the hendecasyllables...

...I DON'T know what you would do with me.

-As your hendecasyllable that I am,

I'm getting jealous.

Do you know why I don't write?

Do you know about my daughter?

-From memory. Do not start.

-But sure You don't know that I was going to skate today.

-It has been many years. -No way!

West Park, eight thirty in the morning,

It's very windy, a tree falls on him

and his head explodes like a watermelon.

-A metaphor.

-No!

The report says so of the town hall gardener,

word for word, with more force What a rhyme, bastard!

I can't write anything epic

because it wasn't an epic death.

Nor anything lyrical because...

Because?

What I can do with a ridiculous tragedy?

-Comedy?

I tell you, that I have lost my wife.

She survives the pain.

You don't want to accept it. -Why am I cutting your balls?

-Why not? Right now you're doing comedy.

-Where is the scissors?

Or better the pencil sharpener, That's going to hurt you more.

You're telling me that I fake a pain

What do I no longer feel?

-How stupid you are. You feel it, but less and less, like every god.

-Clear!

-Oh! That...?

The books!

Be careful with the books! Oh! Oh!

On the elbow! Poor thing, it hurts!

Don't leave me again with that horrible woman, Manolita.

-Don't be a grump, poor thing! -Motherfucker!

To say that I don't suffer!

And poor will be your mother!

Guillermo is sleeping.

Bah!

Gongora.

Read it: Calm down. -Bah!

Please!

stop fighting

and to work.

-Shall I ring the bell, shall I ring the gong? What do I play?

The gong! The snack!

What have I done now?

No.

Let's win the Golden Apple you and I.

You look like an anteater.

Where are the words?

What am I making up?

The transcendence!

The only transcendence It's Nívea's ass!

The Golden Apple

It's Nívea's ass!

Evangelina is attractive and a more than interesting poet.

Your approach doesn't seem right to me.

Let's enjoy of what mother nature gives us

without staining it.

Stop, Eugenio, stop!

Well look at them.

Look at them!

They look like little spaceships.

MMM!

What are you doing?

Mandillo to mother nature

so that she inspires me.

In Tudela we call them puffballs

and, if the sheep eat them, they bite

Where would Edgar Allan Poe be? if he had been so faint-hearted?

Alive, probably.

Don't act funny, white bunny

Look, if you don't respect me,

I'm not going to work with you.

Hey, don't be mad.

Damasus,

what I'm going to tell you nobody knows about it.

me lately I stayed a little...

Dry.

I need you, friend.

I need you to suck the marrow out of the world.

So that? So that?

To reinvent myself.

To duplicate it.

You understand me? Duplicate it.

Between you and me.

I can't do it alone, damn it!

Ah! Ah!

Well here you have me.

Let's see. It is an honor.

Let's see...

Hey...

Icy breezes...

Of the desert and oblivion...

To which I, generous, invite you.

It's terrible!

As a poet I'm not worth two bucks. Well no!

I am a lie

who always tells the truth!

That's not worth it: it's by Jean Cocteau.

Hey?

What's the matter?

Eugene, no!

Holy God!

Oh!

Eugenio, don't terrify me, you are very yellow!

I'm looking at you.

What a son of a bitch you are.

And did you do it?

Alone?

I alone.

Really.

Well now you can say bye-bye to the anthology.

No Please! Don't tell Carlos Luis!

Please!

Come on, don't cry!

Damn, you look like Mary Magdalene!

I have everything on my computer...

what Carlos Luis has in his.

Oh really?

All?

All.

And why haven't you told me before?

you were so pretty with the tantrum...

-I go up to my room and send it to you.

¡Oh!

¡Oh!

¡No! -¡No!

¡Uf

And!

Vanessa, Ven, You, I'm going to teach you something.

-I already know what you want to teach me. Play with the duckling.

-No, I don't want the duck: I love you.

Vanessa, come, let's play

to another thing.

Vanessa, do you have pee?

-My God, how crazy that is.

And those things so old professor?

Come on, little fish, if not, It's like I'm not clean.

-Not now, I'm writing.

-Leave it alone, I still have a lot to teach you.

Fish...

That.

That?

Where are you.

IN?

I have to go to dinner.

¡Eugenio!

Say something!

And look how you've laid out the field!

I'll come later, huh?

Last year I came second in the national award.

I have one tiny little push left!

You know very well what you want.

And you will get it.

Sometimes I do horrible things.

How to sleep with me?

Hey? No! I liked that a lot!

That's pure sexual courtesy.

Clear.

There is no freedom of the body without sexual courtesy.

Who is it?

I. Hey... Can you help me with this?

One of your short hugs.

Very short.

Is it a bad time to propose

a long one

and definitive and eternal?

Or are you still mad at me?

The tie doesn't suit you. You should get a tissue.

Like Lord Byron.

In this tribute

to the great anti-Franco poet Guillermo Dalmases,

that today turns 100 very young years,

We also celebrate the past,

that he always accompanies us.

The criminals' table.

...That now...

And what are you laughing at, Argos,

leggy, half sweet, half bitter,

faithful dog look?

Bravo!

-Bravo!

-You look very pretty with wet hair.

And let's not say.

-But where are you going?

Don't leave me alone with this one. -To look for Eugenio in his room.

-Who is this heavy? -He was feeling bad.

-"Because it is written:

anger kills the foolish and anger kills a fool."

Is beautiful!

It's yours? Almost.

-What's up, it's from the Book of Job, but I don't know the verse.

It must be great that they love you like that.

-I'm not up to par with him.

I never will be.

Do you remember, Guillermo,

from when we thought that poetry could change the world?

-Do you have something, Sagrario?

-"Let's not look at each other and, when they don't look at us,

We'll look at each other."

-Ah. -What nonsense!

-No no. It's not nonsense.

It's spring.

What can we do.

¿Eugenio?

¡Socorro!

Help!

¿Eugenio?

-Here Don Guillermo Dad would take him down the stairs.

-With a wheelchair and everything?

-Daddy doesn't care about that!

-How nice, right?

-You'll know him.

Faker!

Matthew, please, Don't do this to me, don't lock yourself up.

-It's for you to learn.

-Damn, I haven't done anything wrong!

-You've been flirting with that rapper.

-But what am I going to do? with that kid? It just makes me laugh!

-Very dangerous! -This is how Messalina began.

-Matthew, please let me pass!

-Do you want to come in? -Yeah.

-Are you sure? -And!

-Very good.

Well, it happens, it happens!

-¡Oh!

But don't be a bastard! Mateo, don't be a bastard!

¡Mateo!

Think.

-Matthew, please, It gives me a lot of anxiety not to see you.

-I love you...

Me too.

-¡Mateo, Don't be a bastard, let me out!

-I do it for your own good.

-Look, don't love me for this! Don't love me, son of a bitch!

-This rapper out of tune like a bitch.

-Mother!

What the hell, "mom"! You'll find out!

But you can't anymore, right?

Man, Eugene!

Man, it seems to me That your breath smells a little.

What are you doing, werewolf?

You're drunk?

"He abominates art,

that simplifies

that does not exist the messianic past, love..."

Who is it?

-Open for me, I'm in my bathrobe. -Oh!

Can you tell what the hell you're doing? in a bathrobe in my room?

-I'm no longer good in combination.

You have your fly open. Were you jerking off?

Amelia, for God's sake!

you should have seen me a few years ago.

Ah, Rita Hayworth!

Now...

armies have passed over me.

-Leave that, it's my next book.

-Which is still unfinished!

-What do you want?

Let them see you in your pajamas running behind me in the hallways?

Oh!

Juanjo?

Juanjo!

-Suzanne!

How dare you...? -Conchi, calm down, calm down.

Unfortunate!

-Groundhog! Perverted! Oh!

TO Son of a bitch!

William!

What are you doing here?

-I don't know.

It's too late to walk alone through the hallways.

Have you escaped from Federica?

She does not miss me!

Do you remember

from when she caught us in the Kremlin museum

Kissing in Stalin's office?

I don't know.

Well, son, it's a shame.

Lord, Lord... The things we have seen!

I don't.

Boa night. Boa night.

Did you put rum in it?

AHA. Like two fingers.

And he stops being so hateful towards Álex, my nephew. He adores you.

He is a fool and he has no respect for anything.

He reminds me of you at his age.

And the Nivea She is also angry with you.

What have you done to him?

Shall we go by boat?

No, we are not going by boat.

You're drunk!

AHA... Beautiful.

Hey...

Juanjo!

Get writing.

I won't tell you anymore.

It is my notebook.

-It's the best thing I've read in years.

-You think?

-Post it.

-Can't.

-What are you afraid of?

-That it's just work.

You seem silly!

Don't you have a soul?

What are you doing there? Go to your room or scream!

Amazing!

Oh, the Nívea!

What am I..., I'm dying..., I'm dying!

Saint John of the Cross.

A joint?

Tomorrow I'm going back to Madrid with the old man.

Nobody loves me either!

Because you command a lot. I do love you, aunt.

And Changa loves you.

Carmelo doesn't love me at all.

Tabernacle maybe yes a little, but he doesn't know it.

So look at the plan!

At least you get paid a buck.

Half with the bishop!

I'm going to call her.

-,AND?

Sagrario, are you awake?

It's me, Manolita.

We are here with Álex, my nephew!

What if you love us?

You're smoked.

Yes, I'm high!

-Well, I can't talk.

I'm engrossed in my Bible studies.

- Oh!

-They are calling.

Carefully.

I already carry it. Thank you.

Carefully.

-I'm leaving.

I wish we had gotten along better. I would have liked.

Goodbye, Don Guillermo, until next year!

-I do not know!

-Carefully.

-Goodbye, Alex!

-So so.

You take it there.

Bye bye.

-You do not talk to me?

-Previously dead.

-You are jealous. -I?

On!

-You are interested in this man.

Me? Ah!

It seems to the baby Jesus from the chapel.

Do not say foolishness! At my age I don't like making a fool of myself.

Amelia doesn't care that much.

Come on, Manolita,

from religion to religion, don't be so posh.

We are all equal.

I don't know anything about religions!

I am already recycled.

And you should. Ha!

Let's see, the readings.

Everyone in the room. Let's start.

The time has finally come.

Leda, the Arcadia It's not what it used to be, is it?

-Maybe yes, Mr. Changa.

Whoops!

Fish.

When you read mine, let's see if you make an effort and you don't eat the syllables.

It seems unbelievable how badly you read.

-I'm not listening to you.

-Fish... -Leave me alone!

Man, Carmelo, do you have something?

-I haven't had time to finish anything serious.

-Cagueta!

"At twelve in the morning on July 10, 2010,

a strong wind knocks down a tree in the West Park."

Heartbreaking, Amelia, but she cuts the crap.

Isn't the issue transcendence?

Original themes. And new.

-Well, The poem I am going to read is mine,

so my transcendence It's very small.

I wrote it just yesterday.

"I live,

If I live, on a balcony,

looking at a calendar.

The days beckon me while I wait

and I abandoned myself to that only job of waiting for you

while everything that denies us

lurks

But my hands will fly to compensate you

and they will guide you even my invisible beauties.

You will come.

And then I won't know what to fill my nights with

and I will empty myself slowly,

like an hourglass."

Full grace!

"Look from afar to see up close.

Myopia, mask of my secrets."

How bad they are.

(LAUGHS (LAUGHS;

-Yours is starting to worry me.

-I just don't know what's worse: If you are singing or being your girlfriend.

-What a slutty movie you have ridden for a shoe.

-No, I wish it were the shoe! It's me.

-Shut up!

-I do it to mess with you.

-You quiéreme.

-What are you afraid of? -Shut up!

-Being a dyke is very tiring!

-Let's change the world.

-Both.

-It's true.

-If it's not us,

So who are we?

-Come on, children, to have a snack with Sagrario.

Thank you.

So...

-Very cool.

-Very good. -Thank you.

-You are welcome.

Come on, my girls, let's have a snack, eh?

-It's very nice.

Tell me darling.

-Thank you.

Honey.

-I am giving? -"Eternal love", right?

OK.

-My girl is an influencer!

-Hello! -Oh really?

-OK OK. One by one. -That last!

-Here... Hello!

-Look here!

-Is that going well?

-Dad, look at this!

This is my girl, Susana,

and these are the kids of the town choir.

And I want to have a child. As I do?

"In front of the judge you have defended yourself

like a wounded deer by murderous arrows

that agonizes and does not end..." -"Explosive hospital temptation,

fortunately uncontrollable,

exhausted the skin that knows me..."

-"Why does the dust "Does it still accumulate in the corners?"

-"False..." -"If every day..."

"The lines..."

-"If you really dream with that fame of so many

that caress the sky and shake the air..."

-...in the silence and in consciousness, trace

like an armed ant... Hoop! Good very good.

And there you are, determined to defend the transcendence of what you were".

I have good watermelon, sir.

-No, better something else. Let's see the confections.

-If your wife likes them... Damn!

It was for them to see how mature they are.

Yay! I clean it in a minute!

-In a minute. Lucky.

-I'm sorry!

I'm sorry!

-It's okay, Carmelo.

Does he give us four metaphors? Say,

four watermelons.

No, better six.

-And I didn't charge him for the accident. This is a gift!

-You don't know well.

Oh, Carmelo!

King...

They are beautiful, Leda.

They go to whoever wins tonight.

By the way, Nívea, all the papers

Are they in your room to throw away?

Yes all. To the trash.

Leda, do you know what your name is? like the favorite of a god?

What things do you say to him!

You're right: The favorite of the gods is you.

No, not anymore. No?

I have lost all my talent. Ah!

All of you?

Yeah.

But...

Come.

Let's see,

you are happy? Don't you suffer?

I don't know what I write

not even what I say nor what I feel when I say it.

Fuck!

Write what you feel.

Whoops! You hug very well.

That is important. She had forgotten you.

When you're sober.

Come on.

Improvise a poem.

Sometimes I still miss you.

You're doing well.

But you got married right away and you forgot about me.

Juanjo, it makes me very angry.

Gosh, what is this?

Something is burning my chest

through of your scarce and very expensive clothes.

Will you be thawing

the heart remembering

that hug of ours

so long?

So long.

And your daughter?

The poem is over.

Don't you see her anymore? No.

Not since his mother got fed up.

Ah...

There's Eugenio.

He doesn't call me, he doesn't text me...

Who? Eugene?

Yes, yes, Eugenio, Eugenio.

Annoying?

Get away, chucho.

Frankly, yes.

Go get him!

Come on.

Hello.

do I help you?

-Aha, if you want...

So.

Do you like to cook? Not much.

-My God, but how bland it is!

-What are you doing here with blood stained hands?

-Let's see, everyone out of the kitchen.

except Carmelo. Come on.

Even I would have done better.

At nine o'clock.

At nine.

We won't be making mistakes not again?

Do not disappoint me.

"There are no echoes of horses in the war.

The transcendent trolleybus does not arrive.

"I glare in the clouds."

I liked it more the improvisation from before.

Eugenio, it's your turn.

It's devastating definitively lose innocence

and, from what I have heard here,

none of you are left not a wisp of freshness.

Maybe to me yes.

Wind of the three days.

"First North Wind

fiery decipher my naked body

Steal blood, pierces wet entrails

and he goes.

On my way out I'm excited,

melts the skin,

ember dew,

and he goes.

In my eyes she saves. Save.

Cloudy.

Improvise caresses... ...from another world.

...from another world.

Watch... May time be complete.

Elevate any night's work,

invent another life for my life

and he goes. Take me with you, let's go urgently

before the wind changes

and leave."

Scoundrel!

That poem is not yours!

It's from my friend Todos los Santos!

He dedicated that poem to me All Saints to me!

Me! Holy God!

If it's true, you're a plagiarist!

You shut up, nobody.

And don't forget that my intelligence governs the movements of your body.

That's from Shakespeare! Julius Caesar, Act IV!

And he was devoted to a horse! Pig, traitor.

And what does he care?

Plagiarism is not but a slightly longer date!

What good does the poem do for him? They are going to shoot him!

-Hey!

What a shame! Steal your job to a partner from the Third World!

You should ask Nívea.

He tiptoed into your room, Carlos Luisito. I was left out

because it was bad for me to check you the computer, but she, nothing.

She was jumping like a little Nívea

while she threw the anthology at you to the trash.

His eyes were shining.

She had beads of sweat on her forehead.

-I do not know what you're saying.

Nothing is missing on my computer.

So, what-what...?

-She says you have a nose that you step on.

Look, the one in the tutu. I did not see it. She told me.

That? Is there... is there a tutu?

I have beautiful legs.

It's true.

If nothing is missing, boss, It is because to the Nívea

He likes to return favors.

We already know how handsome you were freshly showered at the party.

Leave that fly alone! She is mine!

-She's not yours either! It's Iago's fly!

Othello, act II.

"Every time I come in in a fertile field,

"This one is full of flies." Hey!

Damaso, friend, come galloping your sea of ​​anger.

I'm not your friend!

Who are you?

But what are you doing?

Cocoon!

Pig, bastard, cannibal, scoundrel!

Chive, bloodsucker, scavenger!

There go your clothes!

Who is it now?

Lord Byron. Dress.

Go away! I'm sick and tired of drunks and criminals!

Two prawns per person. They are numbered!

Thank you!

-I already know about Eugenio. I'm overwhelmed!

I see the congress in the air, Manolita.

The bishop...

My duty is to inform the monsignor.

Sorry about before.

You look great.

You have to see how good they feel on you the short hugs,

but frequent.

Happiness happiness!

Come on, friends! Lets vote!

Let's go for the next Golden Apple!

But don't vote with sticky hands,

that then the ballots are glued and it sucks.

-Fish, Who are we going to vote for? Hey?

-To you. To whom, if not?

I'm glad you're not stung anymore.

Hello.

Leda, ex-excuse me.

Oh! Juanjo, you don't vote.

Won't you let me vote for Nívea? Well, I don't love you, Manolita.

Whoops!

And this was the man of my life. Do you dance?

-I do not dance. How come you don't dance?

-Photos with the children They have 16,000 likes.

-Children like it a lot.

-Sister.

We Dance? -Wow, daughter!

I would like it. Another day.

Manolita, they asked me to dance!

Who? That...?

-Manolita, are you happy?

Who me?

Very happy!

So...

-Why did you ask? The happiness

It is a relative thing, Right, Manolita?

-Already.

Because you and me...

Uh, for nothing.

I was with Juanjo for three years.

I didn't write a single line.

You can't work with it.

And in

He...

He...

The best years of his life.

As soon as I left, her decline began.

May my eyes see him then and having to see him like this now...

Hamlet. Act III.

You're a bit naughty, aren't you?

That?

It is not a penalty.

I understand that you left him.

To Juanjo Changa, I say. No.

You do not get it.

When I am sad, only he makes me laugh.

Don't fall in love, Damaso.

Who me?

The one from Tudela...

You're going to burn your wings.

Attention, we already know who has won

the Golden Apple!

And the winner is... Attention...

The Golden Apple It's for Vanessa Rincón

by a vast majority!

Full grace.

Congratulations, girl! Do you want to say something?

-Well, I would love to dedicate this award to him

to Mateo Gil Delgado because he is my teacher

And to all of you because you are like...

my family, like my brothers,

sisters, my cousins, grandparents, great-grandparents, fathers, mothers...

Everything's good! And to our poetic ancestors!

Thank you so much!

It's so cute!

-Got talent?

Enormous!

Surely the ministry likes

and they subsidize us next year.

And the bishop?

Bah, I'm glad! Young blood is what we need!

Alright, let the music play!

¡Eh!

-¡Eh, eh!

¡Guerra!

¡Eh!

¡Eh!

¡Eh!

Death to you!

Go dead!

Go dead!

¡ Ta, ta, ta!

What is the reward for being good? - Accept it.

-And, if I have talent, what? -Talent?

You have won the Apple with bad arts.

-Only you don't like it.

-Like Helen of Troy, and see what happened.

You voted for yourself.

-Well, at least I was right, right?

-Trickster!

-Listen to me! Do you think I'm stupid?

-Please! -What you taught me doesn't work?

-Well, I have learned! And I've even learned to protest!

I have won a prize! Is it to get like this?

-You have betrayed me.

-A little, but I'm not with you because she's stupid.

And you make it seem like it.

-We're making fools of ourselves, aren't we?

-You are envious and mean!

-Please, Can you help me go up to my room?

-Don't touch it! -Vanessita.

-Neither Vanessa nor shit, shoot!

-Please please! -Come on!

- she is crazy! -Wow, what a great shame!

-About what? -Of the two!

To Ludmila's tavern! Who is coming?

Who is it?

Open me, I'm very sad.

-Happens.

-Why haven't you come down?

-How many years ago that your wife died?

-Almost eight years.

-Come and sit.

She was great Mercedes.

-Since then I have been alone, Amelia. And happy.

-I remember her very well.

What was her favorite song?

Did you sing it to him at night?

-No.

Yeah.

Sometimes.

¿Y?

-Goodbye, pretty Ladybird.

-Let's see?

-Respétame, Amelia.

Me too I have been uninhabited for many years.

Ven.

Give me your hand.

Look at me.

How long has it been since you saw Ludmila?

Hey, Ludmila!

Ludmila, well two years ago...

Since I abandoned you. Four ago.

Four years. You're not missing anything.

-No. -Hetero...

-All together, straight.

-Patriarchy. -Patriarchy.

-Heteropatriarchy. -Heteropatriarchy.

-That's it, man.

Hey, can you leave me alone, please?

Oh!

Rat!

Oh, thank you very much, sweetheart. I owe you one.

Well... -Guys, wait!

Wait!

-I've escaped!

What what?

-Come on, let's get drunk of anaphoras...

-Come on. -...and anacolutos!

Full grace!

Hello.

Avanti!

-Carlos Luis!

-Hello!

-Oh, I'm going to see what Gonzalito wants.

-Gonzalito has stayed behind.

-Who has won?

Full Grace.

-But...

-I haven't been able to leave without seeing you again.

-Excellent.

Hey, let's go outside

like "we don't paint anything here"?

Ludmila,

have you seen that couple?

Let the violins play for them.

And a double whiskey for me.

-Years without seeing you, Don Juanjo.

Years.

I remember when you came with the crown on.

He looked like a king. Ah!

Do you remember? Me too.

Be quiet.

It hurts a little.

don't tell me the story of my life.

You've tripped him up.

What balls you have.

Holy God!

Sorry.

Oh, I should go to a psychiatrist!

I'm really sorry.

What if we go together?

Vanessa...

Vanessa...

Mrs. Vanessa?

Where have you gotten yourself, Nobel Prize winner?

Were you thinking about me?

-At first, yes.

-But then not.

-Not later. -Ah.

It was just a little cold.

But is everything okay?

-I wouldn't have missed it for nothing in the world.

Hey!

"After a loving affair,

and not lacking hope,

I flew so high so high what day the dove reaches."

"In the quiet night,

flame that consumes and does not cause pain".

¡Ah!

And it's not sad...

Careful! Oh!

Oh...

-Oh... -That...?

What was that?

-ISIS, ETA!

-¡No pasa na, no pasa na!

-Deja. -No problem.

-There's a little blood here.

Does anyone have a tissue, huh? A handkerchief!

-I'm not used to it! to these adventures!

-Here here. Here.

So.

-Ah.

-Further!

-The water is great for the bumps.

Bye bye.

-And now where do I sleep tonight?

¿Mateo?

Look, Mateo, I've escaped.

I have been with a man and I had a great time.

And I'm back.

Come here.

Ven.

-Life is wonderful.

-Yeah.

Whenever you forget from the fucking Golden Apple.

-No. No!

What the hell...?

What are you doing with that stick? I am going to kill you.

And so? Because you are the best poet

of your generation. Does that seem little to you?

You won't kill me for that nonsense.

No?

Now we are both at the same height.

Don't run away, chicken! Do not run away! Well...

Well... su-let go

the stick.

and don't look at me with that face of hate.

I can't help it.

I'm bad people.

Very bad people.

And a worse poet.

I take it back, I take it back, I take it back!

I'm mediocre!

Habits, your fucking book, It seemed so...!

That poem about the girl?

"The girl far away,

the girl nearby."

She had grace about her.

It was my last spark.

Motherfucker! You set my heart on fire!

And while she was reading it...

"With eyes burning...

like lighthouses."

"Like lighthouses."

"You were nothing but ashes."

And I have not been anything else...

since then.

OK.

You're right.

Give me the stick.

No.

Why not?

Where are you going, werewolf?

I like talking to you!

War!

Kill them, kill them!

I'm an arsonist!

I am god!

I am god!

I'm Changa!

Who is it? I.

Hang on a minute.

Are you alone? Is there no one in ball

hidden in the closet?

I'm working.

I need...

come back to me

Wanna...

write again.

Give me back my handkerchief.

Tomorrow, when you tell me yes or no.

Oh really?

Oh really.

Tomorrow,

If we see each other again, we will smile.

Julius Caesar, Act V!

Good night.

Hello...

Thank you very much for everything, Sagrario.

Pretty!

Well, and to you, Manolita, thank you.

Have a good trip!

-Thank you. -Come on, but she is the winner, right?

-Yeah. She's my girlfriend.

-Well, you must be very proud.

-I don't know.

It has been a magnificent congress.

Surely with the help of the baby Jesus.

-I am not aware.

-Definitely famous.

-Dad, we're going to have a boy!

-Long live Alcobendas!

-Long live Ferrol!

-Have you seen the paella pan? I have to return it.

-Can you bring me closer to Madrid?

This makes me cowardly!

-Because it's dull, daughter. You think it's boring.

We'll see next year.

Have you seen Juanjo?

I haven't seen him this morning.

He will be hungover.

Or he will have died.

Juanjo!

Juanjo, wake up!

Tomorrow the dentists arrive and you have to prepare.

Juanjo, am I waiting for you or not?

She must be in heaven, because she is smiling.

She has written again.

There's something in the window.

-Nívea!

Nívea.

You drop me off at my parents' house.

-A smart decision.

I'm going to buy a dog.

-What a good idea.

-Yes, they make a lot of company and they can also be taught.

-He can even sleep with you.

What's happening?

-Nothing, the fucking beauty, that chases me

It's like water, that also haunts me.

-Oh, little fish!

You will no longer have anyone to dry you when you come back wet.

-Have you put the duckling in the suitcase?

The dog will like it.

-And you have put your apple in?

Little fish, you couldn't come back home without your prize.

-No? -No!

-Shall I continue, shall we return?

-I have an emergency, professor.

-That?

-I have pee!

Keep going!

-Haven't you heard my girlfriend? Speed ​​up!

Omelette!

Short!