Machete Kills Page #4

responsible for this violence.

I will die to see it through.

The real tragedy

in it all is that

people will never know

the truth about me.

How about you? Does anybody

know the real Machete?

Where's your partner?

Every cop has a partner.

You couldn't keep

them alive, could you?

Think about it.

How old are you?

In your line of work, why

have you lived so long?

Your partners knew about

self-sacrifice for the greater good.

Not you, though.

You know what you are?

Vengeance.

You are vengeance.

And vengeance never dies.

It only changes targets.

Blessing in disguise, chacho.

You'd never make it past the

wall in this piece of sh*t.

You need a stronger vehicle,

an armored vehicle,

and I know where

we can get one.

Small town near the border.

There's a chop-shop there.

Satellite feed coming online.

Once he crosses the

border, we can move in.

Come on. Come on,

come on, come on.

Come on, you want to get

across that wall or what?

This is cartel turf.

You led us right to 'em, you

crazy son of a b*tch! Shh.

No, no, no, no.

Be quiet.

They're all around us.

Waiting.

Lurking.

We're looking for a ride.

Well, this ain't Enterprise

f***ing Rent-A-Car.

These are custom orders.

I would do as he says, Grasa.

Well, look at this.

Marcos Mendez in the flesh.

This will do.

No sh*t it'll do.

That baby's my

f***ing masterpiece.

Could take her through a

minefield without a flat tire.

Cartel!

Easy, hombre.

You wouldn't shoot a man in

a wheelchair, would you?

No.

I'm jealous.

Go, Machete, go!

Hola, motherf***er.

Let's go to the nude beach.

Hey there, lover boy!

Ladies, give them hell.

Save lover boy for Mama.

I have a special package

for him.

Killjoy, give me

my strap-on!

Grab the wheel.

Get out!

F***!

You're dead.

F***, Machete!

You're crazier than I am!

Crazy like a gypsy f***, man!

Oh, what you gonna do?

Drive through it? It's solid concrete.

Machete, what the hell

are you doing?

Even Jesus couldn't get

through that damn wall!

Do you know another way?

There is no other way!

That's why they call

it a wall, God damn it!

I know a way.

See that graffiti tag

on the wall?

Drive straight for it.

An inch to either side and they'll

be scraping us off the cement.

Which Mendez are you?

The one who wants to help

you get across the border.

Hit it!

We built the tunnels

when they built the wall.

You made it!

Well, sweet Jezebel!

I think we just hit us

a stroke of beaner's luck

running into you again, Taco.

You know, you and your

compadre are going for about

10 million buckaroos a head.

I was never straight A's

in algebra,

but that is a sh*t-fire-f***-me-hallelujah

lot of money.

I figure we oughta take advantage

of your lucrative predicament

and get us up to squares.

No distractions this time,

right, Clebourne?

That's right, Sheriff.

All right then.

Sayonara, Taco.

Special Agent Mendez.

How many of you are there?

Sorry, that's classified.

What the hell is that?

My welcome party.

You didn't think

it would all be over

once we crossed

the border, did you?

Who do you think gave me that

missile in the first place?

There is a grand

conductor behind all this.

Zaror! You're alive!

Why re-elect

President Rathcock?

He dished out $6 million

of taxpayer money

to space technology companies

like VozTech Industries.

He built a wall protecting us

from the threat of illegals.

He took a stand and defended our

second amendment with a vengeance.

And to boost our national

economy to an all-time high,

he made marijuana

legal in 48 states.

My fellow Americans, it's

been a groovy four years.

But there is still so

much left to accomplish.

For me, winning was

only the beginning.

Re-elect Rathcock.

A name you like,

a face you can trust.

Don't worry,

Mr. Cortez.

You haven't failed

your mission yet.

Where am I?

Recuperating in my sumptuous

healing pool right now.

Do you like it?

And as you can see,

our friend Marcos Mendez is still

very much alive and ticking.

Which makes him

still very much a threat.

It needs to be disarmed.

You don't know what

you're dealing with.

Well, actually, I do.

I invented it.

Allow me to introduce myself.

My name is Luthor Voz.

Let me admit, I've been following

your career for quite some time now.

I am a tremendous fan

of your work, Mr. Cortez.

As an aficionado of

the arts of war myself,

I just gotta say that you

are one genuine article,

Genghis Khan, high caliber,

f***er-people-upper.

You're a warrior,

Mr. Cortez. A killer.

A survivor. Like me.

Just try to relax.

I mean, if I wanted you dead,

you'd be f***ing dead.

Are you gonna disarm it or not?

I'm leaning towards not.

But that all very much

depends on you, Mr. Cortez.

You sold Mendez the missile.

No. I gave it to him.

But then, I've given a lot of bad

things to a lot of bad people,

but that does not

make me one of them.

Get dressed, Mr. Cortez.

Allow me to try

and convince you.

I'll turn my back.

Welcome to VozTech,

the world's premier space technology

and weapons manufacturer.

You know, Time Magazine

once called me

a merchant of death

with an assembly line.

But one very special day,

I began to think bigger.

And now I've turned science

fiction into science reality.

And this, this is where

we conduct our training exercises.

For what?

Our exodus.

When NASA asked

me to build them

a new state-of-the-art

luxury spacestation,

I luxuriously told

them to f*** themselves.

Why, you ask? Well, because I'd

already built one of my own.

It's up there right now, just

floating the f*** around,

waiting for me and my

people to inhabit it.

In fact, Mr. Cortez...

Machete.

Incidentally, Mr. Machete,

I plan on moving into my new

space pad very, very soon.

I'm very excited.

Here, have a heart.

What about the heart?

Well, that's why

I'm relocating.

Climb aboard.

Yes, I'm a Star Wars fan.

Tanks, missiles,

bread and butter.

It's the simple

things that fund

my more out-of-this-world

enterprises.

Why Mendez?

Why?

Well, bin Laden is dead

and America has always

needed its boogeyman,

so I created a new one.

Yes, I supplied Seor Mendez

with the fireworks.

But given Mendez's

aptitude for the unpredictable,

I left one of my men

behind to keep me abreast

of his process or lack thereof.

What's your plan

have to do with me?

I have high hopes

for you, Mr. Machete.

Higher than you could

mentally ascend to.

A spaceship?

Technically speaking,

space shuttle.

Not to mention, my legacy.

It all started about

six years ago.

I privately funded a suborbital launch.

Went up myself.

Yeah, I was something of a

thrill-seeker back then.

Before what I like to

call "the incident."

I was up amongst the stars and

something inexplicable happened to me.

I saw the future.

I saw the world ending.

It unfolded right before

my very eyes.

And that's why I built this.

Aboard it, me and anyone who wants

to join me will take flight.

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