Fuga Page #3

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Excuse me.

They cannot tell one from the other.

At first they did it on purpose but then

it got out of hand.

They don't know whether one is one

or the other's twin brother.

They're Simon and Vincent or

Vincent and Simon!

I call them by whichever name I

fancy.

That's Tomasito.

He's been here since he was a baby.

He's not schizoid or paranoid.

He's just stupid... jerk... idiotoid.

They say you're hypersensitive,

That you're a genius,

a kind of Wagner.

The thing is, you're just like me. I'm

terrible.

I watch the weather on the TV and I

start crying.

The phone rings and I become a

nervous wreck.

That's how we artists are, so

sensitive,

with dramatic changes of mind.

Excuse me talking so much, but,

mine was an accident.

Oh boy, an accident of nature.

I heard voices and did very violent

things,

Then my family decided to put me

away

to see if I would get over my illness.

And also to see if I'd get over my

gayness

but...

I'm more of a fagot every day.

I love it.

But don't worry, you're not my type.

Guys, let me introduce you to...

Eliseo

What happened to you?

This isn't rice,

It's boiled wheat.

Rice!

Boiled wheat!

Rice!

Boiled wheat!

Rice!

Boiled wheat!

Rice!

Boiled wheat!

Rice!

Neither rice nor boiled wheat dammit!

It's just the same gunge as always.

And leave this democrat alone,

because you are a democrat, aren't

you?

They really cleaned you up, ah...

and this, what could this be?

Nothing

You know all I had to do to get here?

I'm not interested.

I haven't asked you for anything,

I don't know you,

I don't know who you are. Get out.

And you,

who are you going to be?

Looks like a musician

or a mimic disguised as a trumpet,

or a closet queer like all the boxers,

politicians

or f***ing drunks...

who the f*** do you think you're

talking to,

you f***ing high-class fairy...

I don't turn the other cheek,

no way.

I don't give a sh*t that you don't know

who I am...

I know who I am,

and I don't wallow in my own sh*t like

you.

Look at you,

look at you...

look at you,

look at you,

look at you...

Hey, enough... she!

The patron saint of suffering.

The Potemkin battleship of pain.

The most used up ass in the port.

The nicest little sh*t to ever suffer in

the Metropolitan Region.

You're more f***ed than a whore's

ass!

she...

The terrible boy,

who doesn't understand the world

and goes mad composing a

symphony! Sh*t!

You're novel material you are...

a bad one!

And that piano crap, your f***ing

piano killer.

You make me feel embarrassed,

dammit!

You really blew it with that piano crap

You haven't lost anybody...

I've lost more brothers than you've

ever dreamed of having.

I've spent my life screaming like a

wild beast,

catching knives in the dark.

I was born like this, sweetie,

with a broken wing, and I fell...

I fell

so many times

that they locked me up in here...

And they screwed me,

they screwed me...

they screwed me for being a fag,

for being a communist,

for being wicked and beautiful...

Hello?! Yoo hoo!

This thing's a f***ing box with

strings, dearie

The music's not worth sh*t...

Stop!

Then, come closer.

What are you playing?

A fugue

A fugue?

You want to break out?

No, a fugue is something else...

Bach used to compose fugues.

Ah...

...a fugue.

So, who's this?

Eliseo Montalbn alive and kicking.

What?

Great!

No! Out the crap. What's the idea,

man?

None of us four,

unfortunately, are capable of

composing the missing piece.

And then what?

We tie a rock around his neck and

throw him off a cliff?

Into the sea, this is Valparaso.

I think this is getting out of hand.

It's a unique opportunity. Don't you

see that?

It's one in a million. This is it!

You want to split from here?

Because I know a secret way out

through the back yard.

How?

That's the beauty of the plan.

Look, you play your music,

we form a choir and then they'll

discharge you right away,

because that's your sickness.

Meanwhile, I split out of here...

and then we meet at the port,

we get lost, get it?

And me?

I already told you.

You play your music and they'll

discharge you.

How d'you know?

Because I know...

If you don't believe me, ask your

doctor

trust me, honey.

You do your fugue and I'll do mine.

That's the wall

And how?

That's the hairy staff,

cause we have to pass through the

forensic psychiatry.

All the smelly guys are there,

criminals, rapists, and psychos.

Think of sh*t and it is there.

OK!

You're going to pass one at a time;

you come in, do your thing and

leave.

Afterwards, with Eliseo we're going

to select the chosen ones.

I don't want any tantrums, attacks of

hysteria, no weird sh*t.

This, kiddos,

is music,

fantasy,

show...

Easy!

Quit shoving, a**holes!

Everybody'll get a chance.

You two are going to start. Inside.

I will love you as before, more than

before...

for life I will tell you in life...

bom, bom bom...

I am... a soldier playing a drum...

As you travel through,

you'll never be alone!

Saying that I love you, saying that I

love you doesn't mean anything.

A secret man, a whiff of illusion!

A cry from the heart,

a non-existent lover...

Happy birthday

to you...

The exact time is 12:15 P.M..,

the temperature is 20 degrees.

Thank you for calling.

I love you very much, more than

yesterday...

I love you like that... mocking as you

come. That's all.

He's established an excellent

relationship with the other patients.

Can you believe that He's introduced

them to the world of music.

Excuse me, doctor, could I have a

quick word with you?

What's the matter, Claudio?

We're busy.

It's just that I'm Mr. Montalbn's

assistant

and he's asked me for all these

things.

Let's see...

Out of the question, this is too much.

It's just that we need a base for this

thing to sound right;

this bunch of lunatics can't even play

the "petaquita".

Well, I'm sorry. We have no money,

Claudio.

Excuse me, what do you need?

Two violins, a viola and a cello, and

musicians, of course.

Very well, don't worry. I'll make sure

you have everything you need.

Thank you Mr. Minister.

Excuse my being so nosy,

but I'm your fan!

You look much better in person than

on the TV...

OK, OK, Claudio

Thank you.

thank you, that's enough.

I hope to see you when the opus is

performed.

I don't think so, doctor, with the

elections so close.

And public openings, I imagine.

A cigarette!

We didn't bring any.

I've got cigarettes.

You think you can just show up and

stroll freely?

Think again, man...

and a light?

You're so smooth.

I take care of myself.

Where are you going?

To the yard.

You want to escape!

No, no

Me too!

But it's locked!

It's locked? you open it then,

sweetie.

Sometimes yes,

sometimes no.

How, how much time?

You shut your trap!

What you got there, huh?

My Mummy, my Mummy!

Are you sure it's here?

I don't now...

The facade is identical to the picture

What a shithole!

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