So thirsty... please help...

After walking along the highway and talking to turtles, our unnervingly nameless friend goes to some town to have some free coconuts and get a job. He's a mariachi, but is thinking about changing to the tamborine and getting a backup band that looks like the Pointer Sisters and sings songs with puppet dancers. But right now, he really needs a car. Because ever since my step uncle traveled through Mexico in 1978 collecting people's ears in his violen case, no one will pick up hitchhikers holding musical instruments. I take partial responsibility, though, since I asked him to go to Mexico and bring me back a bunch of human ears. I thought he could tell I was kidding. But I'm off subject.

This chubby guy, like our cute mariachi, also carries a guitar case everywhere he goes. But he doesn't know how to play, and probably couldn't even name the Pointer Sisters. He just got out of prison and his guitar case is full of guns and knives. I'm pretty sure he uses the extra space in it for Legoes and snacks, but I always assume people are carrying Legoes. That's why people take your lunch money and not mine.

Don't put my cerveza in a glass you son of a bitch!

Stop calling me Taco, you puta.

This is a thug. He goes around trying to kill the two guys above us. Like you, his name is not Taco. However, he has a colleague named Taco, and the two of them are professional henchmen. They are told to go out and kill the guy wearing black and carrying a guitar case. Other details like what they might look like are very minor when you're only going off to kill somebody. I guess they thought black clothes and guitars would be very unusual for such a small town but in a wacky twist of fate, there are two men fitting this description. I had a similar mix up when I was a kid and was sent to the store for bread and milk. I came back with a stack of pornos. My mom made me eat them. But again, this is anecdotal and off subject.

Yeah. These are the two guys they mixed up. Instead of going after the chubby one, they go after the heart throbby tean idol-looking one. I can't blame them though. Jesus! Those guys could be twins! If it wasn't for that damn moustache, I wouldn't be able to tell them apart at all! But I guess professional hit men aren't paid to figure stuff out, and movies aren't designed to make a whole lot of sense.

So our movie ends with the Mariachi making a transition from cheesy entertainer to raging death machine of destruction. Things seem to be going very well until he meets up with the head bad guy. They kill his girlfriend and shoot him in his left hand. Note: after doing this, it is wise not to sit around and cackle like a madman. Chances are you will get shot. I'm not going to spoil the dramatic ending for you if you haven't seen it, but the good guys win, and if you watch the credits you realize there really was a guy named Taco in the movie. So quit talking to turtles.

"So I'm sitting there, and in walks the biggest Mexican I've ever seen. I mean big as shit. Just walks right in like he owns the place." Steve Buscemi just got back from an ass-ugly convention in Saragoza and witnessed a brutal mariachi slaughter. He couldn't get on Oprah, so he thought that the friendly folks at Cheech's House of Piss Warm Chango would like to hear his story.

"That's my brand."

"It was as if the lights dimmed just for him." Somehow Carlos Gallardo turned into Antonio Banderas after travelling long enough. It proves that old proverb, "With enough travelling, one will turn into a Spaniard with a Mexican accent and a guitar case full of guns." I always said that was bullshit. But even though he's not the same guy, he's pretty pissed about something. Oh, and if a vigilante warrior comes into your bar with a bunch of weapons, give him a damn soda pop if he asks for it.

"I was scared stiff! All I could do was watch this... thing tear the place apart. Then... without warning... without hint or preview, the stranger whips around and sees.... me." "You saw his face?"

His face?
No.

His eyes.

"He dives right in. Just dives right in. Now I don't know what he does down there, but he's up in two shakes and he's got God knows what, but it's the biggest god damn hand cannon I've ever seen."

So that's how the movie starts. A little bit of character development mixed into flying bodies and carnage for those of you who forgot the mariachi was an invincible force of nature. He's gone through some aesthetic changes, and now he has a crotch gun and hand grenades. That might have to do with the increased budget of the second movie. El Mariachi was made with 11 dollars and bus passes, so the original guitar case only had a couple of hand guns and some kitchen utensils.

Instead of normal solos, Antonio likes to beat up rowdy audience members during the climax of the song. He likes to do a little something special depending on the ocassion. Next song, Kampa is going to launch a rocket into the crowd and they'll play the Neutron Dance. And let me just say something. There is nothing cooler than the Neutron Dance in Spanish. Me gusta!

If you remember this thug from the first movie you win a two week subscription to Armpit Weekly from KUOI FM. Here he is in his role as a cigarette lighter. Boss really needs his cigars lit, and it only hurts for a second. The gang is saving for a zippo, but right now, that's just a magical dream. Anyway, the second cameo in this movie as Flashback Thug with no lines entitles him to $37.42 in 9 monthly installments according to union by-law 416-C. But that's more than his kids make working for Kathy Lee. Note: my home page does not in any way condone child labor or Kathy Lee Gifford. Thank you for taking the time to read this disclaimer.

Continuing the flashback, we see our mariachi and his newly dead girlfriend. Then, of course, they shoot him in the hand. His dreams of forming Sexual Chocolate, the ultimate band, are crushed. Although the hand wound prevented him from playing the guitar again, it somehow made him into an even more pissed gunfighter. "It is easier to pull the trigger than to play the guitar. Easier to destroy than to create." And all of you sand castle builders know that that's so true! Building is a tough trip and a journey of discovery, but destroying a sand castle is an electrifying madcap romp.

"Now the bartender, he's laughin' his fuckin' ass off! Ha ha ha! Piss drippin' off his face! Ha ha ha!"

In action movies, it's important to blow up bad guys. To keep budgets low, Robert Rodriguez took volunteers to get exploded. They sacrificed their lives to make this great movie. Let us now have a moment of silence to honor their memories. Actually, even though this is probably the dumbest picture and comment on this page, I did get an email from this exact guy exploding: From: TRAPEZEKID@aol.com Subject: stunts Hi I was one of the stuntmen that work on the movie,and I did pay I would not do it for free. I did have great time on the film.And got kill 3 times you have one the photos on this site,and Robert R. was great to work for . Thank you Richie Gaona ---- check cast list

Jesus! This is worse than yesterday when I got killed by a ceiling fan!

"You owe me $300, punta!"

"He's pissin' on the bar, he's pissin' on the floor, he's pissin' on the phone, ssss on the bartender... He's pissin' on everything except the fuckin' glass!" Supposedly, Quentin Tarantino, Robert Rodriguez, and Antonio Banderas are the only people who know the name of El Mariachi. That's why I call him Mr. Binky. Because everyone knows the toughest people have the lamest names. Like how Hulk Hogan's real name is Fairy Cuddle Hogan, and Jesse the Body's real name is Jesse the Barbie Liker.

This is Antonio when he gets pissed. In a state like this, it's standard procedure to evacuate the city. Modern science has proved that the only creature capable of stopping him is Headorah, of TV's Godzilla vs. Headorah. The two are scheduled to enter the Canadian arm wrestling championships next season, so we can all look forward to the showdown.

The bad guys had an answer for Antonio, that almost worked. Look at this monstrosity. He may never talk, and he may never use a gun, but he has got a pocket full of pay phone money and more than eight throwing knives. And when you have more than eight of something, you have a bunch. Since Desperado, Danny Trejo has appeared as a gunfighter in Replacement Killers, a pirate in Six Days Seven Nights, and a barfly in Trojan War. His enemies have gotten progressively weaker - Chow Yun Fat, Harrison Ford, and some gen-x salsa dancer who everyone thought was David Hasselhoff. If this continues, he will next battle Snuggle in a dryer sheet commerical. And he is going to fuck that little bear up. On a more personal note, I often try to start up games of Six Degrees of Danny Trejo on car trips. "There is no one else! The guitar player is a myth!"

"And remember, if he can't beat Christos, I'm not interested!" Christos will probably be typecast as a guy named Christos since his name is tatooed on his chest. But I dare you to make fun of him. He can throw out kicks like Zazoom (The donkey from Arabian Knights, of course), and he doesn't sound like an idiot like Van Damme. This could be because he never talks. He just beats the shit out of idiots until they reset their broken leg on his face. Christos can dish it out, but "So much for Christos." We loved you, buddy.

I've decided that Salma Hayek should be required to be in every movie from now on. Even if it's just for a second to pop out and say, "What the fuck is a Robster Craw?" I'd be happy. She multiplies the aesthetics of the movie by at least five, and without her, Antonio would not only be full of bullets, but badly sexually frustrated in this town that apparently has no women. I bet Salma and Cheech dated after they took down the set. It's just that he has that whole "do me" look to him. Don't tell me the tutu in Up In Smoke didn't just pump your loins. And I think we'll let that thought end this stupid page.

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