Re: FMLL I - Santiago de Queretaro
(FADEIN: MEXICO CITY- Night time. Soot-faced children run past a fire in a barrel; low-ride vehicles drive past store fronts slow and suspiciously; angry screaming can be heard in the distance. The camera turns leftward to catch all of this before stopping and focusing on a masked man in a white long-sleeve underneath a ripped black t-shirt. His mask is gray with a black moth split on the front of it; stringy, greasy black hair sprouts from the top of the mask down to the man's mid-neck. In his right hand, he shuffles three dice; juggles them a bit and goes back to shuffling them. The man's name is ARCÁNGEL IV, and as the camera follows him walking the ghetto street, the sky opens up for a light rain shower)
ARCÁNGEL: Been waiting a long time now, hombre. LONG time. Sitting on the sidelines, hurt, broken, bruised, bleeding, whatever...I done it all, I been through it all, but da Angel is back, holmes. Finally got my shot, and the waiting es over. Time to fight, f*ck, and rip sh*t up. Do what I gotta do, you know what I mean? Good news for me...bad news for you, homie.
See, I like to hurt people. Yeeeah, been f*cking people up since I was 5, homie. Ain't nothin' gonna break me cause I been broken already...now I do the breaking. People's sh*t is gonna get all messed up puto, ALL messed up. Hijo and Aqua? You think you can f*ck wit da ángel?...in HIS ring...? Ain't no messengers from God here, puto, cuz I been sent from the Devil himself...BELIEVE THAT SH*T, puto.
You see how I'm livin', homie? Ain't none of you motherf*ckers tryin' on these streets. Livin' here is like rollin' dice...each ride might be your last. C-Lo ain't just a game to me, es a lifestyle...I live by the dice, die by 'em too.
F*ck livin' easy. Buncha mariconcitas wanna be legends and make money? I'll show you what my family does to legends...we squash 'em, f*ck 'em, eat 'em, and leave 'em dyin' in our bellies. I live like the moth on my face, only comin' out when es dark and hangin' around streetlights.
People is gonna get f*cked up, homie, cause I don't like none of you putos. Technicos come around my neighborhood to get their heads cracked and their jaws broke. And if I ain't scarin' you homie, just come out here and find me so I can put the fear of three generations in you.
Three generations of winning titles, crushing dreams, killing hopes, breaking bones. Ain't nothin' else to this life than that, right? I like to smell blood like you putos like to smell your wife and children on holidays. Love ain't an option for me, homie. Brutality, punishment, conquering like an Azteca...that's all I'm interested in.
Rey Amante...kiss your roserie and thank Jesus that he permitted the Devil's son to be your partner, 'cause I'm gonna show you how we do things in the barrio of Mexico City. I'm gonna show you how the dice is rolled...
And all the rest of you putos is gonna see how blood is drawn. Then you're gonna know what fear is, hombre, I promise...