Cisco: Oh dios mio, I am soo bery sick, Pancho. The angels, they are coming por me! I know this well.
Pancho: Pobrecito, Cisco. Si, it is true, you are not long for this world. And so, I must bid you adios. Godspeed and Gods blessing, little brother! (You will need it, Cisco Cinero).
Cisco: Yes, I have done much bad in this world, mi amigo. Especial to you, Pancho. Please forgive me, my brahther. I can not go to the angels without your forgiveness.
Pancho: Of course all is forgiven, Cisco! Go, mi amigo, go . . . the angels are calling your name now.
Cisco: Oh si . . . I hear somthing . . . Panchito!?!
Pancho: Yes, my brahther?
Cisco: The angel voices . . . they are getting closer, man.
Pancho: (sob) Oh Cisco, my heart is so heavy. I think . . . the tears they are coming. I haven't cried since I was a baby.
Cisco: No, Pancho, that is not true. Remember, only a few days—
Pancho: Cisco! Let us not talk of such things. You must go now. Even I hear the voices.
Cisco: You do? That is strange, Pancho, because—
Pancho: Cisco! You must save your breath, little brahther. I . . . I really don' hear voices. I am sorry I lie to you at this terrible time.
Cisco: Is ok, Panchito. Many, many, many, many times have I lie to you too. . . And now, before I go to the angels . . . I must tell you somthing, mi amigo . . . somthing I did. It was bery bad.
Pancho: Nonsense, Cisco! You have already confess to me all the bad things you did, my friend. You are dying, that is why you are confused. It makes one a little loco, no? As it did my poor sainted madre. Do you know, Cisco, (ha, ha, ha) she thought I was you before she die. She say to me, "Cisco, I forgive you, mija." . . . . . . . Wait! . . . Did you do somthing to mi madre, man?
Cisco: (sob) It is time I tell you, my brahther. But I must be quick about it. The angels voices . . . they are—
Pancho: Si, Si, Si, I know the voices are coming already, Cisco. Tell me what you did to mi madre.
Cisco: (sob) I . . . I jus' try to help her Panchito. She was so bery sick.
Pancho: Si, Si, Si! Out with it, Cisco.
Cisco: Ok, Pancho. When you sainted madre——wait, Pancho! Do you hear that? It is your mother's sacred voice! She is calling my name.
Pancho: Ay, da loco, Cisco! Quit stalling, man, or you will hear shortly El Diablo's voice.
Cisco: Ok, Pancho. When you sainted madre was bery sick, I . . . I give her somthing to make her feel better.
Pancho: WHAT DID YOU GIVE HER, tu pendejo!?! . . . Talk, or I will put my hands around your flaco neck and squeeze bery hard.
Cisco: Un momento por favor, Panchito! Your sainted madre is asking me a question . . . Si, Senora, I am listening. . . . . Que? . . . But you are in heaven. They don' . . . Que?
Pancho: STOP IT, Cisco! You are driving me loco with this nonsense.
Cisco: Oh, I am bery sorry, Panchito. Ok, anyways, I give your sainted madre special medicine and she die . . . jus' like that . . . but with a smile on her face, mi amigo.
Pancho: WHAT? Es imposible, Cisco. I was with my sainted madre when she die. Like I tol' you before.
Cisco: No, Panchito. You were with her twin sister, your tia. I . . . I switch tia with your sainted madre. Your tia was bery sick too if you remember! Ok, Panchito, I must go to the angels now! Adios, muchacho!
Pancho: $#%$*@$$*#*&!! $#^$*@$$*!! &;%&;*^$%$#*@$$*$$#$!!
Cisco: AYEEEE!!! Es el Diablo! AYEEEE!!!
