Gángsters

2020. 5 de Marzo. En una bodega a las 7:37 am, húmeda y oscura, sucia, con luces descompuestas que parpadeaban cada tanto, se encontraban cinco personas; Vincent, Tom (ambos gángsters, asesinos a sueldo que trabajan para Daydale 'Big Daddy' O'Conner), Alejo y Ernie.
Alejo se encuentra secuestrado por los gángsters americanos, un asalto a la casa de un camello que Big Daddy quería muerto se vió frustrado por un infiltrado y todo apunta a Alejo, nuevo en el negocio que viene de México.
¿Dije cinco? Quise decir cuatro, al quinto tipo (Jean Pass) lo mató Vincent, ya que Jean tuvo un ataque de pánico al matar a uno de los cholos del asalto frustrado.
Los gángsters se encuentran frente a Alejo, éste se halla tirado en el piso, amarrado de las manos y pies, y con cinta en la boca.
-(Tom suspira) I don't know how the situation get fucked up in just in time.
-(Vincent con la mano en la boca se la quita para hablar) Well, men you know... This shit happens.
-No men, no! Fuck that argument! We should've check up the fucking team before we go to bump some niggas ass out Vincent, this shit is our fault! And you know what will happen if Big Man get a word of this? He will fucking bump us! So don't come to me with 'this shit happens' Vincent because this shit doesn't have to happen, for god fucking sake.
-Ok, man this was just a mistake, a big fucking mistake, how could we know here was a mother fucker ready to set it up to us? So be fucking chill man, i'm getting nervous, you know what the fuck i do when i get nervous!?
-Yeah, you start to bury mother fuckers ass in dirt to fucking heaven.
-Listen, men; you know i respect you at all, i'm just sayin', JUST SAYIN', we gotta stop fight each other...
-Yeah (comienza a fumar)
-...and start to interview this plookie right here and know who the hell send him to fuck our plan.
-Yeah, man, sorry; you're right.
-Well, let's get fucking started, you do the talking, i do the fear in him.
-Like always.
-Yeah, man, like we've being doing the last couple of months.
-Ok, c'mon.
Tom y Vincent se acercan ya en sus papeles a Alejo, quien sigue tirado con una herida en la frente de la cual sale sangre. Su camisa de cuadros azules se encuentra arrugada, mientras su Rólex dorado está roto.
-Vincent, sit this son of a bitch in that corner.
-In a hurry.
Alejo empieza a respirar más agitado.
-(Tom hace de papel de bueno, postra una sonrisa en su rostro y comienza a hablar, su ironía dentro de su maldad en su papel lo hace cada vez más intimidante) So, Alejo! How ya' see the work out there, uh? Shaky? Dangerous? Yeah, is such a job.
Tom se hinca con un pie delante del otro para ver más cerca a Alejo.
-You know, men, in this bussiness doesn't last who want it all for himself, and that shit's wrong, you know Big Daddy, Alejo? Uhm? Do you (da un disparo al aire con su Mágnum) fucking know Big Daddy!?
Alejo comienza a asustarse y sudar, Vincent le sostiene el cuello para que mire directo a los ojos a Tom.
-Does he look like bitch, you fucker?
-Answer my men Vincent here, you bitch.
Alejo mira a todos lados agitado sin saber ver a Vincent, o a Tom, con miedo de que ambos en cualquier momento le disparen.
Tom se empieza a desesperar por la falta de cooperación de Alejo.
-C'mon, men, are you gonna be fucking quiet? (Tom apunta con su pistola a Alejo) c'mon, i dare you, I DOUBLE DARE YOU MOTHERFUCKER!
Alejo grita ahogadamente por la cinta en su boca, y Tom súbitamente le pega un tiro en el brazo izquierdo. Alejo pega otro grito ahogado.
-Hey men, this buddy here, isn't he mexican?
-Yeah, and what? Not for being mexican has to be he dumb.
-No dumb ass, and if he doesn't know how to talk in english? And if he only knows how to speak mexicano?
-It's a posibility.
Vincent le quita la cinta a Alejo de la boca.
-Hey, what if you start to talk or my  friend Tom here will start to shoot you to death.
Alejo da un quejido y sigue.
-No les entiendo nada de lo que dicen, cabrones. Apenas les entiendo los insultos. Estoy hablando seguramente a lo pendejo porque quizá ustedes ni entiendan mi idioma.
-Hey, Vince.
-What?
-How Big Daddy knew how to talk with ths shit ass dumb mexican?
-Come on, men; Daddy know speak spanish, italian and chinease, you know this bussiness like.
-You're right
-¿Qué?
Tom le apunta en la cara a Alejo.
Y grita:
-Shut the fuck up men, or i'll start to bury like Vincent did with fucking Jean a few hours ago!
-Woah, woah, ¿Jean? No jodas Tom, sé que alguien nos jodió el plan y definitivamente no fui yo.
-Do you have a last word to say, motherfucker?
-Cabrón no, ¡no me mates! ¿¡Sabes lo que pasa si matas al que no sopló!?
-Fuck you.
Tom le da siete detonaciones a Alejo: cuatro en el torso, dos en la cabeza y uno en el cuello.
Vincent por su parte le dio en las costillas y riñones.
Tom ve a Vincent:
-Men, you're a fuck.
-No men, i'm a sick fuck.
-No shit.
Ernie, que olvidé mencionar que tiene 13 balazos en el cuerpo y ya ha perdido mucha sangre, se encuentra tirado en el piso:
-Ugh...
-No shit.
-Men, he just woke up for the coma.
Los dos se acercan al cuerpo de Ernie que batalla para hablar.
-You dumb ass motherfucker, he wasn't in a coma you fool.
-Yeah men but was sort of it.
-Nah men! It wans't the fucking  same sport!
-Whatever men, hey, Ernie!
-What... What the fuck you did with the kid?
-We had to bump his ass, he was the rat.
Ernie había hablado más íntimamente que los demás con Alejo, ya que era nuevo en el negocio y Ernie tuvo cierto cariño hacia él, le hacia recordar a su hijo asesinado por Big Daddy.
-You son of a bitch... You killed my son... Son...
-He's fucking crazy men.
-What you want, Vincent? Motherfucker's about to die.
-Aghh... Alejo wasn't the rat...
Tom y Vincent se miran con pánico en sus ojos.
Ernie da su último suspiro.
-Fuck... You... Tom.
-He died.
-Yeah men, he's dead.
-As fuck.
-Dead as fucking dead men, come on let's get the fuck outta here.
Ambos se levantan ybse dirigen a la salida de la bodega, con dos cuerpos sin vida tras de ellos.
Mientras caminan a la salida, discuten:
-Hey men, what you think about all this shit?
-Ah men, i don't know what to think.
-I mean, everybody knew Ernie was a men without conviction, no courage, no anger in he, he was a fucking faggot men he didn't have any balls, he was working for Big Daddy knowing what Daddy did to his family.
-Yeah men, you're right on that. His son was made like a cheese, holes in every place of his body.
-Fuck yeah men, but beyond all of that, everybody knew that Ernie...
-Never said no lie.
-Exactly men, for that i'm scared of his confession at last.
-Yeah, i'm thinking about that too.
-How does it feels men?
-How does it feels what?
-To be the last one talking to him and his last words to you was 'fuck you'
-Fuck you.
Vincent se ríe y ambos suben al auto de éste.
Ya en el carro de Vincent se arrancan:
-Hey man do you have to do something now?
-No men, we have to wait for Big Daddy to get back with him and talk of this.
Besides we have to found the real stitch in this shituation.
-Yeah, don't shit men. Wanna go for breakfeast with me?
-Why not.
-There's a fucking Vip's not too far from here.
-Vip's will be.
-Man Big Daddy will fuck us.
-Yeah, he doesn't like more than one or two murdered niggas in a job.
-Fucking Jean, men.
-No dude, fuck you! You killed that nigga just for nothing!
-Oh men no, FUCK you! That dumb didn't have any profesionalism in the job and he put me so nervous as fuck so i had to shoot him to be shut.
-Men, if i want to keep a nigga shut, i don't shot him in the face.
-Well, syntax error, men. That shit happens.
-Ah, fuck you, mate.
Ambos siguen pensando en lo que Ernie dijo antes de morir en aquella bodega.
Tom para matar el tiempo revisa la guantera de Vincent.
-Fuck you're doing, man? Uh? Do you think yourself Rosalia? I don't have any fucking shrimp there.
-Oh, men! What the name of god?! You keep shooting this shit in your vein?
-Oh, come on men! It's not of your bussiness.
-Men, cocaine is good, hachis is good, even i pass smoke crack in time to time but fucking heroin is fucking bad dude.
-Men, crack is very more addictive than heroin.
No men, this shit's wrong!
Tom arroja por la ventana del Camaro negro de Vincent la inyección usada.
-Men, oh, what the fuck!?
-Yeah, that's what your deserve mother fucker.
-Dude you just trow a fucking used shot with my blood on it to the street.
-And?
-And? AND?! Mother fucker, police is gonna research who was the fucking user of that shit, i'll be in jail you dumb!
-Calm down, motherfucker.
-How you want me to calm down men!?
-Fuck Vince shut the fuck up. You are a stressing motherfucker.
-Fuck.
-You call it 'shit' only when you see it's fucking you up in some way but when you are in no shit you call it 'dose'.
-Shut the fuck up, Tom.
-Fuck you.
-No, fuck you.
-Fuck you, fuck me, whoever the fuck gets fucked, hey men roll me a fucking cigarrette.
-They are in the corner of the door, your side.
Ya con el cigarro en la boca y el humo saliendo por su nariz se mantienen callados pensando en Ernie, su confesión los tenía aturdidos. Al jefe no le gustaba que murieran miembros de una cuadrilla durante un trabajo. Y menos le va a gustar ahora con la policía haciendo ahora sí su trabajo.
Mientras esperaban que pasara la luz roja del semáforo entre Avenida López Portillo y Avenida Zarzaparrillas, va pasando un auto con megáfono leyendo el encabezado de las noticias:
-¡Roban a mano armada, matan, extorsionan, despojan de domicilio armados, trafican con drogas y con el cuerpo de nuestros hijos, la Güera, el Fuete!...
Al doblar la avenida tomando López Portillo, se nota que la policía ya supo algo del asunto de la bodega y empieza a movilizarse.
-Shit man, what the fuck?
-Damn nigga, the fucking cops men.
-What are we fucking do men?
-Just do nothing, keep going to the place and don't look suspictous.
-Shit, damn neighbours! They were the one on say something.
-WE don't know, Vincent.
-Fuck dude, they're going to the storage.
-You didn't touch Ernie or Alejo, right Vincent?
-Shit man, i don't remember...
-Fuck YOU!
-Hey wait, i touched Alejo's neck, BUT, i shoot him in that place so, let's not worry.
-Cold, nigga.
Ya había pasado un rato y ahora la escena se postra en ambos gángsters ya desayunando en un Vip's.
Tom regresa a la mesa donde Vincent se halla sentado, éste había ido al baño a recibir una llamada del Jefe.
Vincent come symu bollo y sus huevos con tocino y ve acercándose a Tom con su mirada típica de 'nueva misión'.
-Hey duda, what's up?
-I just spoke with the Big Man from phone.
-Fuck he wants now?
-He doesn't know about the accident we lived hours ago. Thats a relief for us.
-Yeah, at least we gonna live a little more.
-Fcuk yeah. Whatever, Big Man wants us to join to some crazy ass lady, she lives in Fuentes del Valle with her three young men kids and her only daughter. They offering such a money just for look for a Cipriani's big fishes, they're kidnapped in lady's house.
Vincent suspira y frunce el ceño:
-I don't know men, sounds very risky and besides, i don't mess around with the Italian families or the chinese triads, and most important, where the fuck came this lady out? Shit men, it is a big no for me.
-Hey nigga chill out, the families would never know they was us, besides we are not gonna kill no bitch, just look. We're gonna receive 300,000 dollars. Each. Just for nothing.
Vincent con sus ojos azules a Tom fijamente, está pensando; tiene un puchero dibujado en la boca, de repente se mete la mano en su saco y saca un papel. Se acerca la mesera y le pide una pluma.
-Excuse me honey, do you have a pencil?
Pide la pluma mientras hace un movimiento en el aire para que la chica lo entienda.
-Thanks. So buddy, give me the details.
-Is this blonde lady called Maria, her boys: Eder, José and Sebastian. Oh, and her only dsughter, Mónica.
-The lady, blonde. Boys. Eder, José and Sebastian. Only girl, Mónica. They are white?
-Everyone of them.
-Okey men, i got it.
-All in your sketchbook?
-Shit yeah men.
Ambos ríen y se viene el suspenso.
-Look men, only thing we gotta be warned is, JP was a hitman for them. So... let'sbe cool ok?
-Got it Tom. Didn't they knew he was Big Daddy's new hitman?
-I think not, i mean, Big Men told me no say no word 'bout JP just for a reasson, didn't he?
-I don't know men i didn't heard the call.
-That's not what i meant, you know it Vincent.
-Besides men, fuck this shit about work under the ground with the newer guys, what the fuck's he doing?
-Vincent.
-He will make a set up to us?
-Vince...
-Is he working with the families and making us kill them just for make it see like a mistake of us and get us killed?
-Vincent!
-Ok men, i think too many shit, hasn't it?
-Fuck me, i've seen too many crazy ass shit in my time but this was another fucking level. You're smart motherfucker.
-Mmh yeah, i got my moments.
Ambos pagan y se retiran del lugar. Vincent compra un dulcero temático de Spider Man que tiene un ventilador pequeño. Salen al estacionamiento y buscan el coche de Vincent.
-Fuck men, i can't believe this fucking mexican girl didn't accepted dollars.
-Hey men i've a question for you, all right?
-Yeah men just spit it out.
-Do you have a kinda problem with the mexicans? Because i heard you expresing of the mexican people like 'fucking dumb' 'assholes' etc, etc.
Vincent pega una sonrisa y replica:
-Nah men, i don't hate'em. It's just a joke, 'una cura' like they say.
Ambos se ríen y se meten al auto.
-'Una cura', ha,ha,ha.
Encaminados a Fuentes del Valle, reciben una llamada que representa una tragedia y a la vez una ventaja de tiempo.
-Ey, man whats crackin'?
-Ey, Tom. We have a problem.
-Don't worry, i'm on the mother fucker.
-No, Tom listen! The plan in Funtes del Valle was frustrated.
-What? Another one?
-What you mean with 'another one'?
-Ey dude, what the fuck is happening?
-Shut up Vincent, let me listen. What happened?
-All dead in the house.
-What? But, how?!
-I don't know details. But it seems to be a Sicilian family attacked the lady and her sons. Be really carefull dude.
-All right men, we'll be good.
Se cuelga la llamada y se quedan ambos en silencio.
-What's the matter?
-FUCK!
-Ey, man! What!?
-The Sicilian mob killed our money in Fuentes.
-I told you, i told you! Bih Daddy set us a trap!
-Wasn't he, mother fucker.
-How you know anyways?
-If the hit was planed by him will be dead right now.
-Well, you have reasson on that.
-Come on man, we have to kill dealers near San Francisco.
-Let's bump that assholes.
Después de conducir hasta una zona de conflicto, ambos criminales van a la parte de atrás del coche de Vincent para cargar sus armas.
-Ey man, how many of them are in the park we are gonna shoot?
-Mmh, don't know man, you know how this cholos are. You start to shoot on one and then starts to come out more and more. They are like cuckroaches.
-Yeah. I fucking hate them.
-The cholos?
-No dude. The cuckroaches.
-Ok, let's go get them.
Horas y horas se le resbalaban entre las manos a los criminales, pues estaban haciendo vigilancia en el coche de Vincent esperando a ver a alguien vendiendo cocaína.
-Ey Vincent, and how's Monterrey?
-Oh, dude. Is such a nice place. The night life there is amazing. The food, fuck, the food!
-Like Texas, don't it? A lotta fucking meat and sausages.
-Made on carbon men. It's really tasty. Is one of the things that we doesn't have in our country.
-Yeah in Texas indeed.
-Yes men but not in New York. Or in Florida or Seattle.
-There exist restaurants anyways.
-Ah, fuck you, man! Nothing like eat it just made.
-If you say so. Ey, what about the women in there?
-They look like if they were of another planet. Anything they had, had it big. Big ass, big boobs, big long hair.
-How's the people?
-Ah, they're good. I lended my car to a boy who was in a big cock trouble.
-Hold on, you, YOU actually lend this mother fucker?
-Yeah, i know, sounds like crazy. But i did.
-What did the mother fucker to receive that kind of achievement?
-Nothing in special. He is friend of a friend of mine. So i saw the problem and acted.
-You lend your monster car to a random kid in another town in another country and i ask you one time 'ey Vince how are you, ey listen man i'll go down to town with this girl and i tought maybe you can lend me the car' and your answer was 'go and fuck yourself', fuck you, Vince!
Vincent se ríe y luego retoma.
-Listen man, that kid wasn't a random kid. He had a plan. A great plan.
-What he's doing right now?
-I dont know. Maybe he keeps selling recipes. He was a great dude.
-Selling recipes. What a fucking bad bussiness.
-Well, he probably lives better than us, you know?
-I don't know and i don't wanna know.
-Look, they're moving.
-Let's go.
Salen casi corriendo y llaman la atención del vendedor cuando Tom gritó justamente para hacer eso. Ya conseguido su objetivo, el vendedor corre a lo que los criminales van tras él. Unos metros recorridos, el sujeto se cae y los gángsters se apresuran a verlo.
-Mexico police department, you better fucking stop!
-Mother fucker run very fucking fast.
-Let's whip him, Vince come on!
Ya al alcanzarlo, le apuntan con sus armas y deciden hacer sus papeles como en la situación de Alejo. Hasta que Pedro, el dealer, decide hablar.
-¡No me maten! ¡Les digo quién es el que vende pero por favor no me maten!
-What the fuck is he sayin'? I'm gona shoot the fuck up on you!
-Ey Tom, wait! He said he will tell us who's the big drug dealer here.
Tom se queda pasmado y baja lentamente su arma para subirla rápidamente a la cabeza de Vincent. ¿Por qué en la situación con Alejo, que no entendía inglés, Vincent no mencionó que sabe hablar español? Así como en Vip's, la cabeza de Tom empezó a gorgorear ideas una cada vez peor que la anterior. ¿Vincent me matará? ¿Quiere traicionar la organización criminal de la que ha sido miembro desde 1994? De repente, Vincent sabe hablar español. Tal vez de haberlo mencionado antes habrían dado con el soplón. Llega la policía después de que Tom le dispara a Vincent en el brazo izquierdo. Vacía su cañón en la cabeza del dealer. Y llega Big Daddy acompañado de carros de la familia Siciliana de la mafia italiana. Vincent cae al suelo y con él cayó Tom, pues empezó a disparar a los Sicilianos, y ellos a la policía, y la policía a Tom.
-Fuck... you, Vincent.
-See you in hell, Tom.
La escena culmina cuando a la guerra campal se le unen los cholos, la banda del dealer que asesinó Tom y sus mismos clientes. Tom muere por pérdida de sangre y lentamente cierra sus ojos, muriendo con la creencia de que su mejor amigo y compañero lo traicionó. Vincent se desmaya entre tiros de fusiles y pistolas cortas. Lo único que ve, es a Sonny Fureli de la familia Siciliana, cuidándolo de no, ¿morir?