American Me Page #2

We gotta get out of here, man!

- Goddam it, turn that f***...

- Orale.

Oh sh*t!

Don't move!

No, Mundo, don't, man! Don't!

This is the last time you will

steal and destroy my property!

You hear? I said, don't move!

J.D., stop, man, stop!

My leg!

I can't feel my leg!

J.D., c'mon!

Go call an ambulance, man.

Go call a f***ing ambulance!

I told him not to move.

Hurry up!

Thought I knew it all.

Ended up in juvie hall.

And the sh*t got even deeper.

To the right.

Open up your mouth.

Okay, pick your clothes up.

Take it on down

to the property room...

to exchange your clothing.

Don't f***in' move, you f***!

Don't make a f***in'sound.

Hear me?

Does it feel good?

F*** yeah.

You say one word about this,

there'll be sh*t on my knife,

not on my dick!

F***er.

Damn you, you f***in' a**hole!

Kill him! Kill him.

Killing that first night got me...

the worst that juvie

had to offer:

An extended sentence with

a guaranteed bus ride...

to the big time

as soon as I turned 18.

But the respect I earned,

made me think

I'd found the answer.

When J.D. Showed up a year later,

I knew we'd get even stronger.

Hey, man, what's your name?

Hey! Where you from?

La Primera. East Los.

You talk like a

f***in' chicon, man.

I'll check you out later.

Orale, I see they finally let your

white ass out of the hospital, carnal.

- Santana!

- How you doin', man?

- Cool, ese.

- Mundo!

You guys, check it out, man.

This right here's J.D.,

my best crime partner.

This is Chewie, Casper, Chuco,

Raymond and Big Happy.

- Orale.

- Can I talk to you, ese?

Yeah, come here.

What's wrong, brother?

You thinking of

letting him in, ese?

I told you he was

my best crime partner.

He ain't Mexican, ese.

You know what, he's like my brother.

Understand?

Orale.

So, homes, how's that leg?

Check it out, hard as a rock, ese.

Sh*t, homes,

throw some shellac on it!

Sh*t! I'll still run

your ass to the ground, ese.

- Check him out!

- Punk.

I seen that dude before.

Ese vato

sitting on the bench.

- I think he's with 18th Street.

- Chale, ain't no barrios in here, man.

No La Primera, 18th, Hazard.

Nada.

Over here you see what we got

is the blacks.

They stick together playin' ball.

See those white boys

on the steps?

They thought you

belonged to them, ese.

Over here, we gotta

stick together, homes.

One big clica.

Frog, you owe me three packs!

See you at the canteen.

- Orale, homes.

- Let's go.

Choices we made to survive...

got Mundo, J.D. And me

ten to 25.

- Give me a year,J.D.

- F*** you, homes.

- I'm gonna go make my collections.

- Orale.

What's up, peckerwood?

Power became our game.

Make sure the meeting's set for tonight

with the Black Guerrilla Family.

Power to provide everything

you find outside.

Make sure the Aryan

Brotherhood's behind us.

Make sure they're part

of the whole thing.

Be careful.

I'll be over with the carnales.

- You got your people, big Jim?

- Be straight with me, man.

Hey, Santana.

Extortion.

- They wanna do it. What should we do?

- Go ahead.

- Look, we're getting it together.

- Gambling.

You just give it

a little bit of time.

Prostitution.

All right. It's done, man.

We give you three packas.

Make sure it's done right.

We got it together because we had to,

didn't have a choice.

The Eme is here because

before there was nothing.

You all right, Santana?

This is your home too, ese.

Power to make every

inmate pay rent.

And the biggest

money-maker:
Drugs.

- Oye, loco.

- No, I need to clean up my tab, man.

You know, pick up

some more sh*t.

The thing is, I gotta get it

right away 'cause I'm out.

The Aryan Brotherhood...

and the Black Guerrilla

Family shared the yard.

But Folsom belonged to us,

the oldest clica, La Eme.

The Mexican mafia.

Hey, Montoya.

Homes, I got ya at

table eight over there.

- Orale, carnal.

- Orale.

Orale, carnal!

- How ya doin', Paulito?

- Fine.

Move over.

Hi, mama.

- How are you?

- I'm okay.

- How you doin', little one?

- Fine.

- Doing good? Drawing the pumpkin man, huh?

- Yeah.

Bus ride is hard for you, isn't it?

It's okay, Santana.

You know, your father wanted

to come see you, but...

something came up.

He couldn't make it.

Whatever, mama.

Santana, I brought

you something.

You know, when Jesus

was crucified on the cross,

there was a thief named Dismas

on the cross next to him.

He believed in Jesus and asked him

not to forget him when he died.

When Jesus died, he took Dismas

to heaven and Dismas became a saint.

I want you to wear it.

Let me see it, mama.

Mijo, let's put it on your brother.

Okay.

- Santana.

- Excuse me, ma'am.

You're not supposed

to pass items to convicts.

- But you see what it is.

- Sorry. That's policy.

He can pick this up with the rest

of his property you brought for him.

- You'll wear it, huh?

- I'll wear it.

Don't worry.

They'll give it to me later.

Don't cry, Mama.

I'm okay.

Watch out.

Orale.

Cheetah?

Take it.

Pie Face.

Pass the wire.

- Japo.

- Orale.

Watch it.

- Hey, homes, you got a visitor.

- I ain't seein'nobody.

Have it your way.

Pass the wire.

Orale, pass it on, ese.

Pass it on.

- Hey, vato, pass that wire.

- Just a minute.

Pinche, mayate.

What the f***'s going on, ese.

Pass that wire.

Orale, pass the wire!

Here you go, man.

Here you go.

F***!

Chow release! Let's go.

Let's go, gentlemen. Chow release.

Okay, gentlemen, let's go.

C'mon, move it.

Give him the uppercut.

He's going down.

That sh*t wasn't

even clean, man.

Let him go, Huero.

What's your problem?

- I paid for a full load.

- Don't worry. We'll take care of business.

Don't worry?

I'm sick, motherf***er!

- Make sure he gets what he ordered right now.

- Simn.

Thank you.

I f***in' appreciate that.

- Who copped his wire?

- Some f***in' mayate.

He's dead.

Make sure nothing happens

to these guards.

Orale.

Steve!

- Cover them for me.

- Orale.

They haven't started to kill each other

yet. They're still throwing sh*t.

C'mon, motherf***er!

That's right,

you f***in' son-of-a-b*tch!

Bring it on, then!

F*** you, you motherf***er!

You motherf***er!

- F*** him up!

- C'mon, kick his ass!

Your motherfuckin'ass!

Talk to me, baby.

Talk to me!

Dead dude burned somebody

for their stash.

- Colour wasn't involved.

- You sent the wrong message.

We can do this

any way you want, Doc.

One to one

from the chest...

Or we can all get down!

Yeah, we can all really

f*** this place up!

I'm not going

against the guns.

You're gonna lose, Doc.

Any move you make,

we're on you.

You f***ed up!

You're staying in the hole

for as long as it takes...

to break up your

little gang, Santana.

There was nothing

the system could do to stop me.

I could run this show

from solitary.

Gracias, carnal.

J.D. Takin' care of business?

Simn, ese, but the heat's on.

They're tryin' to break us up.

They're transferring everybody

to different prisons.

Danny's down in Soledad.

Rate this script:5.0 / 1 vote