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: Bless me, Father, for I have just killed quite a few men. Buscemi
: No shit!
: What do you want? Buscemi
: Beer. Short Bartender
: All I got is piss-warm Chango. Buscemi
: That's my brand. Oh, this is damn good! Say, this is the best beer I've ever had. Actually... Short Bartender
: [ignoring him
] You need anything over there? Buscemi
: I'm just glad to be alive right now. I was up a few towns away- you know Saragosa? I was visiting a bar there, not unlike this one. They serve beer, not quite as good as this, but close. And I saw something you wouldn't believe. I'm sitting there, see, small table all by myself. Now this bar, it's full of real low-lives. I mean, not like this place here. No, I mean bad. Like they were up to no good, know what I'm sayin'? Anyway, I'm all by myself, I like it that way. Meanwhile, things are going on... under the table kinds of things. Not too obvious, but, not too secret, either. So, I'm sitting there, and in walks the biggest Mexican I have ever seen. Big as shit. Just walks right in like he owns the place. Now, nobody knew quite what to make of him, or quite what to think. There he was and in he walked. He was dark, too. I don't mean dark-skinned. No, this was different. It was as if he was always walking in a shadow. I mean every step he took towards the light, just when you thought his face was about to be revealed, it wasn't. It was as if the lights dimmed, just for him.
[telling a story
: The stranger shot him, walked over to the bartender, paid, and left. Short Bartender
: So the bartender lived?
] Short Bartender
: The bartender never gets killed! Buscemi
: But as the stranger neared the door...
[Bartender pulls a shotgun. Stranger shoots bartender
: No man, bartender got it worse than anybody.
: Now, I wasn't interested in his drink. No, I was more interested in what he was carrying when he walked in. Some sort of a suitcase, kind of heavy. And he sat that thing on a stool beside him as if it were his girl.
: Can I get a cleaner mug? This one's dirty. Short Bartender
: Fuck you man! That's the cleanest one I got!
: Suddenly they got very interested in who you were. So, I laid the story down nice and thick. El Mariachi
: How thick? Buscemi
: Well, pretty thick, I told 'em you were the biggest Mexican I've ever seen...
: Suddenly you're my big brother. Buscemi
: Well I do feel some responsibility for you, yeah.
: So, anyway, without warning, without any hint or preview, the stranger whips around, and he sees... me. Short Bartender
: You saw his face? Buscemi
: His face? No. His eyes.
: What happens when he's dead? El Mariachi
: When Bucho's dead... it's over. He is the last one. Buscemi
: End of payback? An eye for an eye and all that crap? You finally gonna be satisfied? El Mariachi
: I think so. Buscemi
: I hope so. 'Cause, I don't have the stomach for this anymore. El Mariachi
: You never did. Buscemi
: Neither did you.
: Just try and keep it from turning into a fucking bloodbath, all right? Not like last time. El Mariachi
: That one wasn't my fault. Buscemi
: Well, of course not. El Mariachi
: No, they started it.
: Ya know, one of these days you're gonna lie down too hard on that thing and blow your brains out.