American Me

Ain't nobody talking

when I'm talkin', fellas,

so shut the f*** up!

The following items you place

in the envelope as I call them off.

An empty wallet.

Legal paperwork.

First three out of the tank.

Line up single file

along the bench. Let's go.

Open your mouth.

Stick out your tongue.

All right. Do your ears. One at a time.

Bend your heads over,

shake 'em out with your fingers.

Put your hands

above your head.

Hands out in front of you.

Over. Move those fingers.

Reach down and lift up

your nut sack.

Drop your nut sacks,

and skin back your dick.

Turn around.

One foot at a time,

pick it up and wiggle the toes.

Other foot.

Bend over, grab your ass,

spread your cheeks and give me two good coughs.

Stand right there.

You're like two people.

- Inmate Montoya Santana?

- One is like a kid.

Doesn't know how to dance.

- Step this way.

- Doesn't know how to make love.

That's the one I cared about.

Step inside.

But the other one,

the other one I hate.

The one who knows,

the one who has his rap down,

who knows how to run drugs.

Who kills people!

Until now, I would've thought

it a sign of weakness...

to even listen to what

you said to me that night.

But I see that you were right.

I am two people.

One was born when I met you.

The other one began in a

downtown L.A. Tattoo parlour.

My father, Pedro,

was showing his love

for my mother, Esperanza.

"Por Vida. "

For life.

My mother was

a beautiful woman.

They were pachucos,

zoot-suiters, and proud of it.

In June of 1943,

America was at war.

Not only overseas,

but with itself.

The racial tension was running high

against anyone that was different.

Excuse me!

Esperanza!

Hey! What a fine looking woman!

- Is it new?

- For me, esa, put together with a lot of love!

- Whoo!

- Yeah, esa. Vmonos.

Congressmen and senators,

we don't need a third front.

Read all about it!

Get your paper.

Let's bring our boys home

to fight those zoot-suited dandies...

that are making it unsafe

to walk our streets today.

Last night in Detroit six people

were killed and many injured...

when army, navy and marines

clashed with zoot-suited thugs.

- Nice hair.

- Let's just go.

Riots have been reported

throughout our country.

Come on, guys,

you don't want to start any trouble.

Get your late Times.

Hey, it's time

to be moving, ladies.

Let's get Pedro and get over to the dance

and off of these streets.

De volada.

What'cha lookin' at?

On the night of the Zoot Suit Riots,

Pedro and Esperanza

had a date.

Hey, cousin, almost ready?

Hey, my woman!

Hey, let's see the

finished product, hombre.

You're gonna like it, esa.

Now you'll always be

a part of me.

Chingao!

- Este vato's a fine artist, ese.

- It's beautiful!

Orale. And so is the price.

We better be hattin', ese.

The streets are hot, hombre.

And so...

If you got a problem

being on the streets wearing your colours,

get rid of your suit. Understand?

Between the Hearst newspapers

and Walter Winchell on the radio,

you'd think the pinche war

was right here in L.A., hombre.

It's getting hot

all over America, carnal.

I'm groovin' with my woman

down the boulevard.

She's so fine.

My ruca's all mine.

No telling what time I may

get home 'cause I'm here.

Here comes the main man,

Mr Number One.

Doesn't even need a weapon...

he's so bad.

Say that fast three times, ese.

Hey, it's real hot tonight...

real hot!

Forget about it.

Watch out!

Leave him alone!

Leave him alone! No!

- Leave him alone!

- Esperanza!

- No! No!

- Don't let go!

Goddam no! Stop!

- Esperanza, Esperanza!

- No!

Pedro! Pedro!

Esperanza!

Come on over here.

No!

- Get out of here!

- Let's give him a haircut.

Esperanza!

Don't touch me!

Break it up!

No!

Esperanza!

Esperanza!

Esperanza! Esperanza!

Zoot suit, new suit.

It sounded all the same.

I had no clue what

they'd been through.

It was a mystery.

But to be 16 in '59,

stayin'away from home

even if I didn't have a dime,

'cause the old man

was just waiting...

to give me his piece of time,

drove me to the street

just to save my mind.

What's happening?

Don't forget the spark plug, homes.

I'll see you guys later.

- What's up? Hey, chico?

- Santana.

I'm not gonna make it.

I'm gonna go eat.

- Later.

- All right, man, later.

- Hi.

- Smile.

Abuelito, qu hubo?

- Huh?

- La puerta, la puerta!

You got it. Puerta, la puerta.

You're always nagging.

- There. You happy? You get your coffee?

- Yes.

Good, good. Hey, Mom.

You're home, huh? You should

respect your grandfather, huh?

I didn't say anything mean.

- Yt, qu? How you doin'?

- Okay.

- How was your day?

- Good.

- Just go sit down.

- I'm hungry.

Paulito, how're you doin'? Woof, woof!

Turn that thing off.

You know what "off" means?

It was easy to blame

my father for everything I did.

Isn't that the life

of every kid?

Sh*t. Took me a long time

to understand that rhyme.

J. D!

C'mon,J.D.

How's it hangin'? What's new?

What are we gonna do

about Mundo?

He's young, he's weak.

But I think we oughta let him in;

show him the way, you know?

Orale.

Keep an eye out, man.

Come here.

Give me your hand.

You know what, ese?

White Fence, Maravilla, Lomita...

have been around a lot

longer than us, you know?

It's cool.

We've got our own gang,

strong gang.

We're finally

getting into our own.

Gaining respect.

Our gang, our neighbourhood...

our families, that's all we got, ese.

Yeah.

When we were kids,

belonging felt good.

But having respect,

that feels even better.

You know, La Primera

lives through us, ese.

It gives to us. It is us.

We make it, carnal.

We don't fake you,

we just take you.

- 'Cause La Primera's ese.

- Always has been, always will be.

Orale.

Welcome to the clica, carnal.

For life, man, for life.

Coming to terms with

the lessons one learns...

through the choices

one makes is not easy.

Mundo, me and J.D.

Boy, were we crazy!

Oye. I gotta be makin' it back to my pad

or my mother's gonna whip my ass.

Forget it, man.

Wait up, okay?

We'll be hattin' with you.

Let's take the short cut.

Hey... no need to, man.

We don't need to nothin'.

We do what we do, ese.

Entiendes, Mendes?

Hey, f*** it, ese.

Get on down the road, ese.

- Orale.

- Orale!

- Sh*t!

- Orale. Where you vatos from?

La Primera, so what, man?

Hazard rules all!

Bullshit.

F***in' little punk!

- F*** you!

- Primera lives!

Orale, ese.

There they are!

Oh sh*t!

C'mon, let's go!

Putos!

- Sh*t!

- F***!

- Orale! Andele!

- Get those guys!

Sh*t!

We're surrounded!

C'mon, down the alley.

To the left, homes.

We'll meet at the boulevard.

Hurry up,J.D.

Hurry up, ese.

You all right?

C'mon,J.D. Go!

C'mon, Mundo, let's go!

Hurry up.

Go, go, go!

Open that door, homes.

Come on, carnal.

Here they come!

Got it. C'mon!

- C'mon, c'mon.

- They're comin'! Close the door.

Here they come.

- Orale!

- Orale.

Oye! Where're

you vatos going? Sh*t!

Santana, please man.

What are you laughing at?

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes