What's the difference between East LA and LA?
- It's a different country. - Hope it works better than in Vegas.
It's got to. It's home.
- There's nothing like this in Vegas. - I dreamed of these for 18 months.
18 months!
Say hello to your mother. Stay out of trouble!
Jesse! I'm going to need a trim, homes.
Miklo, tell those wetbacks to step on it or I won't pay them.
- Did you hear me? - I heard you.
Get moving. I got more trucks coming.
You ordered too much.
1,500 bucks of mud. Tell 'em to do it or they pay.
Tell 'em yourself.
Don't take a Mexican's side over your father.
- Fuck you! - Ungrateful punk. I kept you outta jail.
Work with them. I'll get a man to run this crew.
You son of a bitch!
Find yourself another slave, Dad! I'm goin'home!
You're fired! I'll call your probation officer!
I wish I could've seen your father's face.
You beat him up. Ay, Dios mío.
Miklo, he'll kill me if he finds you here.
He won't touch you again, Mama.
I know that cabrón. He'll turn you in.
Miklo. Help me. Do me up.
If the judge knows you're here, he'll stop my cheque. I need that money.
Cold hands!
Mommy, in six little days... Bingo! I'm home free.
What's this bingo? What happens in six days?
Mi cumpleaños. June 28th.
My birthday, remember? I'll be off probation.
A birthday. Ooh, eighteen.
Qué macho, qué guapo!
To me you're always going to be my little chavalito.
I'm late. Beto hates to wait.
Miklo, you can stay with Aunt Dolores, huh? We'll drop you.
Dolores.
Dolores! Say "hi" to your nephew.
My little blond one!
Ay, mijo. So good to see you.
You're so tall.
- How long are you here? - For good.
Your probation's over?
No, he's got a birthday coming up.
Look... I gotta go.
Miklo's gonna stay with you, OK?
- Why? - Because you have much more room.
I love you, niño.
You're my sister, but I'm tired of taking care of you.
I can't live like you. Your life would drive me crazy.
Órale, the Pillsbury doughboy's back in town.
Back for good.
Thought you was never coming back.
I always come back to East Los.
Couldn't hang with your white-boy daddy?
Paco, Miklo's gonna be staying with us a while. Make room for him.
Chale! Only a woman shares my bed and TV.
This puto stays in the garage.
Oh, yeah?
You know what, Mr... " Chale"? You're not the rooster here.
This is my house. Me entiendes?
Miklo's your cousin.
Take this bill to Mano and tell him to pay it this afternoon.
Keep the blankets over your head
or your fluorescent skin gonna keep me awake.
Check out this "Three P", ése.
Since when do we let Tres Puntos get away with that shit, homes?
Three P are just paint sniffers that sneak in at night.
- They don't know about shit, ése. - They are shit, ése.
- Why the fuck you come back? - 'Cause you owe me five bucks.
I came back to collect it... with interest!
I'm gonna kick your ass, Milkweed.
Come on,Jolly Green Giant!
Órale, mijo. This is Quetzalcoatl, the great Aztec poet king.
He ruled the kingdom of Aztlán that went from Mexico to Califas.
- Sexy mamasota! - Pay attention, pelao.
I'll teach you about Aztlán
'cause this vato's coming back to reclaim the raza's kingdom. Watcha!
- Pero, why you put my initials on it? - Because we did it together, ése.
Chale, ése, you can't sneak up on us with feathered watchdogs on duty.
El Gallo Negro looks pretty mean, ése. I'll put some feria on him.
- Órale, watcha! El Miklo! - Crucito!
What's happening? When d'you parachute in, Milkweed?
- Today, from Vegas. - High roller, o qué?
- Miklo. - Hola, tío Mano.
What you doing here? How's your father?
- He's... he's OK. - Your jefita?
My mom wants you to pay that.
When you gonna pay your share?
Chale. I'm on the Cal Mart Pay-As-You-Can Plan.
What about the Corps? Recruiter Bentley's waiting for you.
I won't take orders from a jar-head like you. Forget it.
You're my stepfather, not my commanding officer.
As long as you eat and sleep in my house, don't talk to me like that!
Show respect.
- Venga, mijo. - I wanna stay with Cruz.
- Have you done your homework? - Yeah.
In the truck.
Take it easy on Mano. He just wants you to work.
He's your dad, not mine. Let him tell you what to do.
- Don't mad-dog me. - So does that ranfla burn?
- It's a customer's ride. - That's bullshit.
- Where you wanna go, Vegas, vato? - El Pino.
That tree is East Los to me.
It's good to be home.
Que no? My paintings made it to the finals.
- You really made it? - Sí, mon, I'm still in.
- You'll win. You're the best. - Not bad for a Chicano, eh?
You still have your quills and inks?
Get down,James Brown. Put the needle in. I want my VL tattoo.
Hey, look in the mirror, güero. Does it snow in LA?
Does a white boy get a VL placazo? No, he don't.
I'd have one if I had stayed.
You wouldn't have shit, Milkweed. It don't wash off.
First sign of trouble you'll run back to your white-boy daddy in Vegas.
Wait till your number's called. You'll get one.
The cops! The cops!
Fuck, man, I'm on probation.
- Ponte trucha. - Pinchejuras, always fucking with me.
Hello, Officer!
What seems to be the problem, sir?
- Bumper clearance must be 10 inches. - Oh, really?
You in the car. Registration? Licence?
You do this to people in Beverly Hills?
Take off the glasses, please.
You look familiar. You got a record?
Yes, sir. He's got a great record. The Black Rooster. Thirteen KOs.
Paco Aguilar, El Gallo Negro. He's got a great right uppercut.
You used to train at the boys' club.
Second division, Golden Gloves.
- Till he broke his wrist. - Yeah, I remember.
- This your car? - I just painted it, sir.
What do you think?
It looks nice.
Listen... just raise the bumper a few inches, OK?
Like your uppercut.
- Thank you. We will, sir. - That's all right,Joe. Let's go.
Without that badge we'd see who hassles who, eh?
- Shut the fuck up. - Don't use my boxing any more.
Don't be stupid. He saved our asses.
I let you push my hat off, but keep out of my business
before I put you down, Milkweed.
Come on. Let's get this ranfla back.
You know it.
- You hungry, Miklo? - I got the munchies, homes.
When we get back to the cantón we'll get some refino.
Come here.
Check it out, homies.
- Who is it? - Tres Puntos, ése.
- In our own fucking alley. - Chingada, Tres Puntos, ése.
- Fuckers crossed our lines. - In dead man's land. Got a blade?
- Just my dick in my pants. - We gotta do something!
We gotta do something? Do something, rooster. You're ready.
Shut the fuck up.
You want your placazo so bad? Show me the colour inside you.
What the fuck's wrong with you?
That's what I thought. Yellow.
- Watch me,Jolly Green Giant! - Hey, kamikaze!
Miklo, wait! Hey, pinche coco, man. This ain't no pinche card game, ése.
Hey, life's a risk.
What the fuck's he doing, ése?
Watcha, watcha! Milkweed's got some balls.
He's gonna start some trouble.
- Hurry up, ése. - Why? You got a date?
Let the homeboy get down.
Fuck these punks. I'm taking over this barrio.
Get down, demon. Throw that puto sign on these punks.
They can't bust a grape. They can't kick no dust.
Shit!
Viva Vatos Locos!
I'm gonna fuck you up, you motherfucker!
Get in the car!
Spider! Paint our wall, we'll paint your ass.
Why did you bust up our ride, punk?
Fuck you, Candelaria, we're taking over this barrio!
Ladies and gentlemen, it gives me pleasure to announce the winners
of the Los Angeles Schools Annual Art Competition.
The first is from Lincoln High School, Cruz Candelaria.
Come up here, Cruz.
Well, here's your plaque. Your Award of Honour.
Much more important than this plaque, however, I want to give you this.
Your scholarship from the LA College of Design.
May you have tremendous success in the future.
I want to thank especially mi abuelito... my grandfather,
my father, my step-mum, Dolores, who I love very much,
y los Vatos Locos.
Vivan los Vatos Locos!
Deeper, ése. Make it last.
You want me to hold you down?
Ay, ay, ay, ay! Don't cry, tough guy!
Hey! You almost done? I need you to stitch my khakies.
This afternoon I got my prize. Now you get yours.
Your blue eyes are turning brown, ése.
A deeper brown.
This is it, ése.
No return to Fantasyland where the Cat never catches Tweetie Bird.
Chale, not here, ése.
Now you home with us...
...and defend the barrio.
Vatos Locos for ever.
For ever.
Baptise him.
Now we're brothers till death.
What you did was cool, jacking up those jokers.
Cool, eh? Órale.
Nobody went to City Hall except to pay fines or bail someone out.
Didn't I say he'd be important?
Sí. Crucito, you are a lone stallion among mules.
You gonna become a legend like Pancho Villa or Joaquín Murieta!
To my father!
This is my party, so have a good time!
Frankie, lend me your brother's GTO.
You think I'm a pendejo?
Culero, see who paints that portrait of your girl like you wanted me to?
You promised!
Don't stain Frankie's back seat!
Or the front seat... or anywhere else, vato!
Thought you'd be at this thing.
Guess what? I got Frankie's brother's GT.
- You did? - Yeah, you know it, mija.
What's up? You didn't show up at the thing.
- You didn't tell me the time. - Ah, let's dance.
Let's get outta here.
Hey, where's Cruz going. Come here!
- Where you going? - Come back.
- He's gonna open a present. - Qué?
Oh, sí, baboso, like you don't know... Come on!
- I'll take you on. - OK, put up your dukes.
Hit him with the right!
Bobby Chacón rises and dusts Chucho Castillo. Picks him up, spins him around!
Your skin is so soft, morenita.
Will you paint my picture?
Te voy a pintar, mija.
Gonna paint you like an Aztec princess.
Lookee, lookee. Can I have some?
I like mine rare.
What door do I pick?
Chingaos putos! This ain't your turf.
Get him out!
No!
Get back! Gimme a piece of that fucker!
Give this Vato Loco a joyride!
Let's teach them a lesson. They ain't gonna fuck with us no more.
I'm taking this VL placa! It's mine forever!
What are you kids doing?
Get your ass back inside, Pops, before I put you to sleep.
Let's get the fuck outta here! Let's party!
Tres Puntos own this barrio now!
My back. My back.
He's under anaesthetic. I gotta go back.
Your son has multiple contusions, a broken vertebra... very serious.
When will we know he's OK?
His spleen is injured. I gotta stop the bleeding.
If it's infected he'll be in a long time. I'm sorry, it's all I can say now.
- What happened? - Vámonos.
Tres Puntos are gonna pay big time.
Shut up! They'll be waiting. We'll hit 'em tomorrow morning.
- In the daylight? It's Sunday. - They ain't going to Mass, pendejo.
Gimme that. You don't think I want 'em?
I got some poison for a spider, but tomorrow.
Hey, Paco. Cool it, ése.
What are you doing?
- We can't let those punks... - Get outta here!
- Who are you fighting? - Tres Puntos!
- Just yourselves! - Don't talk to him like that.
What you doing to my family?
I'm your family! We should take care of each other.
We do nothing. We are nothing.
Paco!
- No, Miklo... - I'm sorry, tía.
I like the country, ése!
Hey, Coolaide, put that little jalapeño back in your pants.
I was just walking our new territory.
We're the new landlords. Vato Locos are finished.
Check out the new view, homies!
I'm gonna build myself a righteous pad here.
Swimming pool, white picket fence and shit.
Hey,Joker! You got a fine mamacita. Save me some!
- Come here. - They're watching.
- Come here, baby. Gimme some. - No.
Check it out, Spider.
- It's the punk from the alley. - Hey, Spider!
He must be crazy to come here.
You cut my carnal! I'm gonna jack you up, puto!
Leave him alone, chavales!
What do you want to do?
Cálmenle, homies.
Pay your dues to me, pinche mamón.
You wanna throw down, puto? Come and get some!
Fuck you! Come and get another placazo, badass!
I'm gonna cut your fucking eye out!
Then fuck these other vatos, ése! Get up, Chuckie, get up!
You fuck with my familia, you gotta answer to me.
Come on! Toe to toe.
Let's go, motherfucker!
Let's see what kind of man you are in daylight!
- You scared of me? - I'll catch you on the rebound, punk.
I'm gonna squash you like the pinche bug you are!
Die, motherfucker!
- Where you going? Get up. - My rib's broken.
You ain't talking so bad now, ése.
- My rib! - Wanna know how it feels?
Wanna know how it feels to get stuck, puto?
Come on. Get up.
Get up!
What you running for, bitch?
Shouldn't have done that to my brother.
Know what I mean, jellybean?
You wanna dance? I know a tune called stick and cut.
You like dancing the stick and cut, ése?
Miklo, hold him down, vato.
Look at him!
Property of Vatos Locos.
In case the dog catcher wants to know.
Let him up, Milkweed.
Hey,Jorge! We got him for Crucito! He's marked for life!
- Hijo de la chingada. - Paco, no!
Cruz is alive!
When the dog goes belly-up he's finished, chale.
Yeah. Look at him. The dog is belly-up.
Vivan los Vatos Locos!
Let's go, ése!
Get in the car!
Die, pinche puto!
No! He's dead!
Let's go home!
- Shit! - Where's he hit, man?
Charlie, get his shirt off!
Take it easy, Miklo. Blood's everywhere. He's hurt bad.
What the fuck are you doing? Watch the corner!
- You gonna kill us, Paco! - Shut up! I gotta get him to hospital!
No! People die there!
What you worried about? We're going to County.
No! Let me out! I ain't going to hospital!
Miklo, don't move!
- The cops! - Let's get outta here!
- Oh, shit! - Brace yourselves!
Hang on!
He's still there, vato!
You cry, we die! Shut up!
- Come on, homes. Step on it! - He's gaining on us!
- They gonna beat us. - They ain't doing shit! Watcha!
- I showed that puto a Chicano U-turn! - Puro ricochet!
There's no jura in this town that can do a Chicano U-turn!
Right on.
You just hang on tight, Miklo. You gonna be free as a bird, vato.
They're down on Floral! Lose the cohetes!
- This is your poppie's shotgun. - Throw it out!
Relax, es mi barrio, those pinche tourists ain't gonna get nobody.
Watcha. I gonna surprise those putos on Indiana Street.
Me lo pelo, tourists!
Look out!
Go!
Come on, Miklo, we gotta go.
Run, carnal, run.
Vatos Locos for ever, carnal. Let's go!
Come on!
Shit!
Show me your hands!
My cousin is shot, homes, you gotta...
- Get against the car! - Help my cousin.
- He's hurt. - Stand up!
- My cousin's shot. - Don't move.
Get up against the car. Go! Move! Cuff'em.
- Help him, he's... - Get against the car.
Paco! Paco!
Paco!
- Another fish tank in from LA - Yeah. Two down, one to go.
Keep the pace. Keep it going, man. Come on.
C'mon, Ryder, one more time, man.
Come on, man. Come on, Ryder.
What the fuck we got here?
Fucking fresh fish, man.
58-271.
Velka, D69-345.
What you strolling for? Move it along.
It's a long time since I had a West Texan bitch. Wanna be my lady?
Black Baby! This bull's been crowded up a long time.
I hope they put him in with me.
Blue Eyes? Look what I got for you.
You don't listen to anybody but me. I'm the boss.
Do you understand? Now, walk!
Go through the door with the white sign.
You'll be unchained, then drop your drawers.
And you'll be home. Welcome to San Quentin.
- Name? - Cunny.
- Number? - I don't remember, sir.
Learn it!
Sweeney, B56-213.
Robson, B28-90.
Move it up. Let's go!
- ... short hairs. - Do anything you want.
Look what Grandpa got you!
- Doesn't he look good? - Yeah.
Hey, homes, that operation makes you look good as new.
- Wait till you see your surprise. - Surprise?
Just around the corner.
Can you believe it?
The Corps is making a man of him.
- Hey, carnal. - How is it, champ?
- I'll walk from here. - No, Cruz, no...
- You think you should? - Oh, yeah, I'm... Amá?
Do me a favour. Let me and Paco walk to the car.
- Fine. We'll go. - Can I go with you?
I'll see you in a minute, OK? Go with Mama.
He doesn't look so good.
You all right, man?
Pinche pierna, homes.
Let me do it.
More.
- There we... - Those help you?
They don't do shit. Morphine's the ticket, though.
Can't run, can't sleep, can't play the accordion...
- Hope I can still paint, carnal. - You will, carnal.
A fucking marine, ése... Gee!
It was either this or jail.
After boot camp, I'm not sure it was a good deal.
Lot better than Miklo, homes.
Poor little Milkweed.
Wanna buy some cigarettes?
- What's happening? How are you? - Hola, pretty! You blond all over?
Get your hands off me, faggot!
How his blue eyes light up when he's mad...!
Leave me alone, man.
I'll kill you, bitch!
Oh... You will?
Where you get that placa, Bo Peep?
I'm from Pico Aliso.
Hey, Cinderella. Go find yourself a fella.
You're on the clock and midnight's coming.
You got the wrong man.
What's your name, güero?
- Miklo Velka. - I'm Popeye.
You know my cousin, Chuey Savedra?
El Chuey? He's my carnal!
There's some vatos you should meet.
Most of these cons don't click. They're just doing time.
It's the gangs that run this place.
See the black dude with the comb? That's Bonafide. He runs the BGA.
The Black Guerrilla Army.
Don't take nothing from him or you'll get a Black Power comb through the heart.
Those polar bears... that's Aryan Vanguard.
The AVers control the dope trade.
They do killings, anything for the right price.
- I can't wait for my money. - Why not take it out in trade?
You always like Tinkerbell. She's fine.
You bet cash, you lose cash, you pay cash.
Pimpmobile. Soon. Or I'll have to hire Red Ryder and his AV Boys.
To cut some fat off your tongue.
Or would you swap for some of that tender white meat?
You can pay your bets with that.
Suave, Al.
I'll pay you what I owe, but don't scare me with your AV insurance policy.
I got a policy with Ryder, too. He won't mess with a good customer.
Since business is so good, I'll raise the rent on both you lame-ass fucks.
Fuck him.
Just two, it's over.
Why let him disrespect you like that?
- Take it easy. - You wreck it for the others.
I'm just showing this homeboy around. It's Miklo from my barrio.
You're the sucker that dusted Spider?
If it's a rep you're looking for, killer...
...then I'm the man you want.
Mira. Tres Puntos like Spider... Oh, I'm the bogeyman.
He pissed in his pants.
- Come on. - Get out or I'll make you my bitch.
- He's Tres Puntos, ése. - That's street bullshit, ése.
It's different in a joint.
We click together for power to protect ourselves.
So anyone strong enough to stand with La Onda is OK.
- What's that? - Don't ask.
- There's smokes for you. - I don't smoke cigarettes.
That's like cash.
- Got something else. Some ju-ju weed. - I smoke that.
Can I keep you under my wing?
- I'll take care of you. - OK.
We're homeboys, right?
White bitch, gimme some chon-chon!
- Stay away from me. - Nothing's for free here.
OK.
That's right. Give it up.
Want it the hard way?
You want me to rape you, puto?
Let's see the colour of your blood, gabacho.
I'm gonna cut that fucking placa off you. You ain't no Vato Loco.
Release him!
Like I told you.
Keep your business off this tier.
- Sí, mon. - Pimping don't belong in La Onda.
We're better than that.
My business is separate from La Onda.
- Madera. You're part of the clica. - I was Onda before you were.
Me entiendes? Keep your whores in the rec room.
Keep that fucking thing in there.
Come on, I got once-a-year special on pork chops!
This shit will make you impotent, but you ain't going to no prom.
Eat up, folks. Eat up.
Shit, man. That's just fat. Gimme another chop.
I'm afraid not, unless you got a carton of smokes...
- Motherfucker! - Allah is blushing.
- I ain't no Muslim. - How about a wager on the game?
Your odds stink. I want another chop.
Move on before I carpet my cell with your black skin.
What's the hold-up?
Johnson, move it!
Punk-ass motherfucker!
All the rest of you, get 'em while we got 'em.
There's your chop. You happy now?
Now for my brown brother. Sorry, no tortilla.
Wait. There's a ray of sunshine in all that darkness.
Come up here, sweetness.
- You're keeping these beaners waiting. - Move it, white boy!
- What's the hold-up? - It's OK, Sarge, he was out of line.
Gimme your tray, homes.
You're catching a ride on the wrong train.
You oughta be ahead of those jungle bunnies.
- I take no free tickets on no one's train. - You take a ticket or get run over.
It's better to ride up front, first class, with the white folks.
Know what I mean?
Flirt on your own time, Albert.
She's jealous.
- Where's my chop? - No more.
- I want my fucking chop, puerco. - Be courteous. We've run out.
I know you got more back there.
One of the kitchen detail may sell you one.
- I ain't buying what's mine. - You know the trip, homes. No freebies.
Hey, tough guy! You want a write-up?
Maybe you wanna go to lock-up?
Move it! We got ten minutes. Let's eat.
You sold our meat. You been doing that shit too long.
We ran out. Move on, fly catcher. There's hungry men behind you.
I'll fold your bluffing hand some day, you motherfucker.
In your dreams, Pedro, in your dreams.
Where the fuck you think you're trespassing?
- What? - I thought you wanted it.
- What? - My chop.
I don't want his pork chop.
I want his life.
- What do you want, vato? - I have to speak with El Mero Mero.
Go play with the polar bears or the mayates.
- Here, it's estilo Toluca. - What's Toluca?
It's the Aztec ball court,
where you lose... you die.
Want me to drop you, white boy?
Go on, drop me. I ain't afraid to die. Come on! Come on!
It wouldn't happen if you were here with Daddy.
Fuck you.
I want to join La Onda.
You speak Spanish, güero.
- So do parrots. - I'm in here for packing up a carnal.
I killed a Tres Puntos who was gonna take out my partner. Soy chicano.
Chicanos killing Chicanos is what they want.
Blacks and Chicanos killing each other. That's how they run this place.
Once we get together, they don't run shit.
You got a lot to learn about being Chicano.
The colour of my skin shouldn't keep me out.
White is the enemy.
White's the system.
You're stuck in the middle.
All my life I've been kept out. Know what that feels like?
Knowing you're a Chicano and no one accepts you 'cause your skin's white?
My mom's as brown as you.
My white dad tried to beat every ounce of her outta me.
But he couldn't do it. Chicano's not a colour.
It's the way you think and live.
And if you're willing to give up your life for a carnal.
I'm here to do that. Use me. Use this.
How, güero?
You said everything's based on colour.
I can go where you can't, 'cause I'm white on the outside.
But I'm brown on the inside... to the bones.
The only way into La Onda is to take on one of our enemies.
In your case, someone big we can't hit without losing a lot of carnales.
- Chale. - Give me a chance.
Trust me. Just one chance.
I'm ready.
Respect is everything, güero. You ready to die for it?
We'll see.
Blood in, blood out.
You understand?
Completely.
Start breakfast at 4.30 a. m. Dinner at two. You're on pots and pans.
- With the niggers. - Thanks! I'll take what I can.
- Whatever you say. - That's right, babycake.
I knew you'd wise up.
- That pimp can't do what I can. - Sounds nice.
Hey, Gil. I got that protein powder for Ryder.
See that? Learn to treat me right and you get it all.
Food, coffee, cigs, drugs... C'mon over here.
Hey, get outta here.
It's off-limits to all but me and the staff.
- Hey, you like that? - That's nice.
Yeah, so's this.
- This where your goodies are? - Some of'em.
- Pinto beans. - No pintos for you, baby.
Nothing but Texas barbecue.
- How about it, sweet cheeks? - Just remember, Al.
I fuck who I want, when I want.
All right. Take it easy. It's all right.
You treat me right... everything's gonna be crimson and clover.
Popeye tried to take it. I almost bit his dick off!
Well, I can wait, baby.
That spic's a pig. Got no class.
Just don't make Daddy wait too long.
Come on now, come on.
- You wild little bitch. - It's just a sample.
- I'm gonna fuck your brains out. - When I'm ready, Al.
When I'm ready.
Ay, mijo, the prices... They're so high.
Prices mean nothing unless they sell.
- I've been looking for you. - Just saying goodbye to my family.
- Crucito, make us proud. - You know it, apá.
Hey, Cruz. Buy me a low rider when you're rich.
Low rider!
Come with me. People want to meet you. Circulate.
You're the artist.
You make them look so noble. So...
...fuerte.
I paint what I see. You really like it, huh?
I must take him to a press photo. I'll bring him back.
All right.
Janis, what are you doing?
- They were gonna buy... - They're window shoppers.
Tonight is strictly business.
Yeah, so?
They went in. How come they went in?
We both have a lot at stake. Don't let them blow it.
Lo comprende?
Your names are not on the list. It's invitation only.
We don't need our names on a list. That's my face up there.
It doesn't matter. Miss Weinstock has to okay it.
Enjoy yourselves. There's my invitation, OK? Gracias.
- It's OK, Belinda, it's all right. - It's OK, Belinda!
What's happening, Locos?
Crucito. Congratulations. Come out for a taste.
Órale, Gilbert, in a minute, homes.
Check out the carrucha.
Cruz Candelaria... this is big time, homes.
Why'd you bring that fool?
Hey, it's too bright in here, ése. Too much white.
Hey, Crucito, what happened to our invitation?
- Are you ashamed of Frankie? - Sí.
I'm glad you came, but why'd you bring Gilbert?
He smells money from across town. He came to help you spend it.
Shit, I can't pay him now. I only got ten bucks.
- With those prices? - I ain't sold nothing.
We should jack up a few of these maricones.
- I got the guy in bell-bottoms. - Be cool. I'm trying to hold it together.
He wants payback, then he'll give us credit.
- Shh, quiet. - No!
Relax. Here, have some pisto.
I'll see what I can do.
- He'll take this price. - I'm not negotiating. It's a steal.
- He'll probably pass. - That'll be his loss.
Janis, can you help me with a cash advance?
- I've already given you three. - I need some money.
What use is a show if I don't sell anything?
Most of your paintings are already reserved by important collectors.
- What? - You'll be sold out by the end of tonight.
Sold out? All of it?
Then why can't I get some money tonight?
Doesn't work that way. The cheques go to the accountant.
No, I need some money tonight, you understand?
Come on. I sold out, so I deserve some.
You've a great career ahead of you. Don't let it go in the garbage.
Think about it when you're getting high tonight.
No Baptist sermons,Janis. Strictly business, remember?
Thank you.
- I got a hot tip, Al. How's my credit? - Ryder, your credit's as firm as...
Don't be that-a-way.
- Nothing like popping that cherry, eh? - Red Ryder, your mouth...