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Chicacabra Reloaded (Ch 1) Bobisima

May 21, 2011

 CHICACABRA RELOADED

A Telenovela on Crack

By

Yoly Solis

Based on the Novel CHICACABRA

            Salsa music pulses…COMO LO HACEN by Frankie Ruiz

             
             Granite, stainless steel…a state-of-the-art kitchen. An
             old-fashioned espresso pot warms on a ceramic range-top.
 
             Gisela Perez, saucy, pours espresso into tiny,
             porcelain cups. Her hot-pink summer dress clings to every
             curve; color coordinated accessories accentuate every
             movement.
 
             She’s a girly chica…a VERY girly chica.
 
             Paco Perez sports a shaved-skull; a goatee frames
             his masculine jaw. He sits at a kitchen table polishing a
             gold watch; his strokes timed to salsa’s rhythm.
 
             Testosterone pumps through his veins like a percolating
             volcano.
 
                                      GISELA
                           I’m worried, papi…I don’t
                           understand why those checks
                           haven’t come.
 
                                      PACO
                           The government likes to take
                           money, not give it. Don’t worry
                           about it.
 
                                      GISELA
                           But I called Medicare. They
                           told me the checks—
 
                                      PACO
                           I said, don’t worry about it.
 
             Gisela rests brimming espresso cup next to Paco.
 
                                      GISELA
                           And then the insurance
                           companies stop paying all of a
                           sudden. I don’t know if I
                           messed up the billing or…
 
             Paco grabs her by the waist.
 
                                      PACO
                           This is man’s work to worry
                           about money…otherwise you’ll
                           get all wrinkled and vieja. Te
                           amo, baby.

             He releases her; returns to polishing.
 
                                      PACO
                           Aren’t you going shopping with
                           the Chicas? Shouldn’t they be
                           here by now?
 
                                      GISELA
                           Ay, Papi…you’re so good to me.
                           Te amo, baby.
 
             She’s about to kiss him. He pushes her away.
 
                                      PACO
                           Don’t flirt with strange men.
 
                                      GISELA
                           Don’t be silly, I would never…
 
                                      PACO
                           Paco Perez sees
                           everything…knows everything
 
                                      GISELA
                           So what are you doing today,
                           baby?
 
             He returns to polishing.
 
                                      PACO
                           I told you.
 
                                      GISELA
                           No…you didn’t, baby.
 
                                      PACO
                           For the millionth time,
                           woman…I’m going fishing with
                           Pepe.
 
                                      GISELA
                           Again? It’s raining.
 
                                      PACO
                           Not in the Gulf Stream.
 
                                      GISELA
                           There’s no cell phone reception
                           out there. How will I reach
                           you? What if something happens?
 
             He stops polishing.

                                      PACO
                           Aha! you plan on cheating on me.
 
                                      GISELA
                           No, papi…never. What time do
                           you think you’ll be back?
 
             Returns to polishing.
 
                                      PACO
                           That depends on the fish.
                           Besides, if you’re cheating on
                           me then I’ll catch you in the
                           act when you least suspect it.
 
            La Cucaracha horn sings…

The Chicas have arrived.
 
                                      PACO
                           Go. Te amo, baby.
 
                                      GISELA
                           But–
 
             Paco seizes her, rams his tongue down her throat. They
             slurp a kiss…he slaps her perky, round nalgas.
 
                                      PACO
                           Go.
 
             Gisela giggles like a shy señorita, girly-runs out the door.
 
 
             Outside Gisela’s house…
 
             Cucaracha horn bellows again.
 
             A plantain-green minivan sits in the driveway; big chica
             hair crowds the windshield.
 
             Van’s passenger door slides open…
 
             Maria Elena, super-sized, be-jeweled chica drives.
             Mounds of tummy-flesh gobble up half the steering
             wheel.
 
                                      MARIA ELENA
                           Hurry, Gisela…we’ve got to go
                           pick up Elenita’s dress. The
                           seamstress didn’t put enough
                           lace on it; I’m not sure the
                           hoops are wide enough either.

             Christina, petite chica, a permanent scowl affixed to paint-
             by-numbers eyebrows, barks from the back seat.
 
                                      CRISTINA
                           Yeah, right…like the gordita
                           needs more lace and hoops. When
                           she jumps on stage, it’ll look
                           like the moon crash landed in
                           Hialeah…one giant leap for
                           mankind.
 
             Cristina will never win Miss Congeniality…even in an
             alternate universe.
 
             Maria Elena’s multiple chins jiggle in anger; she scowls at
             the rear view mirror…
 
                                      MARIA ELENA
                           Shut up, Cristina!
 
             Tia Margarita, matriarch of the chica clan, caked-
             on foundation enhances well-earned wrinkles, leans forward
             from the backseat to inspect Gisela.
 
                                      TIA MARGARITA                               
                           You look pale; you eating good?
                           You want me to make you special
                           ajiaco to pump up your red
                           blood cells?
 
             Gisela flips open the vanity mirror…
 
                                      GISELA
                           Ay, Tía, it’s just that my lip
                           gloss rubbed off.
                                (giggle)
                           Actually, Paco rubbed it
                           off…with a passionate kiss.
 
             A collective moan explodes.
 
             Gisela lathers on lip gloss while Cristina slits her wrists
             with an imaginary knife.
 
                                      GISELA
                           I’m so lucky to have a such a
                           virile, handsome, wonderful man
                           who loves me.
 
                                      CRISTINA
                                (mumbles)
                           Every puta within a hundred
                           miles feels the same way.

             Tia Margarita elbows Cristina…hard.
 
                                      CRISTINA
                           Ouch!
 
                                      MARIA ELENA
                           That bandolera seamstress wants
                           to charge me more–can you
                           believe her? Just for a little
                           alteration.
 
                                      CRISTINA
                                (mumbles)
                           Three more yards of lace ain’t
                           a little alteration; it’s a
                           tent city.
 
             Maria Elena’s chins erupt; she glares at Cristina through
             the rear-view…
 
                                      MARIA ELENA
                           I heard you, Cristina. For your
                           information, my little Elenita
                           is anemic, she feels weak,
                           she…
 
                                      CRISTINA
                           Even her pimples have cellulite.
 
             The van veers into an oncoming lane.
 
                                      MARIA ELENA
                           Shut up, Cristina!
 
             Horns blare…Maria Elena pulls back just in time.
 
                                      GISELA
                           I’ve got to go by the church.
 
             Another collective groan…
 
                                      TIA MARGARITA
                           Mija, not even politicians sin
                           that much.
 
                                      GISELA
                           I made a promise to the Virgin
                           Mother that I would confess
                           every day in gratitude for my
                           Paco. With God’s help, we were
                           able to work through our
                           problems and live happily ever
                           after.

             Community eye roll.
 
                                      GISELA
                           I’m the luckiest woman in the
                           world!
 
                                      **
             Inside Gisela’s & Paco’s bedroom…
 
             Paco, on his knees, sticks his head inside a closet…He
             sings “My Way”, screws up the lyrics incrementally with
             each verse. 
            
             He shoves aside a shoe rack, digs a screwdriver into a
             screw-head on the floorboard. Tone deaf singing grows
             louder.
 
             Screws swirl out; he raises the lid, reaches into the abyss
             and lifts out…
 
             A metallic briefcase.
 
             He dumps the briefcase on the bed, opens it. Cash. Lots and
             lots of cash bulge from its insides. He caresses the
             greenery, dials the phone…
 
                                      PACO
                           Pack your thong, baby…we’re
                           going on a trip.

            To be continued…

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