Cronos Page #3

It's the heat.

It happens to me all the time.

- Is it better?

- Yeah.

Every time I drink,

I have to pee.

...since I was a kid.

What a decadent party, damn it.

Let's see, let's see...

f*** this.

Look at what they've done here.

It must have been

an Argentinean gate crasher

or some Peruvian on the loose.

Motherf***er.

I'm working my ass off

all year for a party...

Let's go.

Nine... eight... seven...

six... five...

four... three...

two... one...

It's been a pleasure,

an honor for Radio Dla...

to bring to your home,

the classic remote broadcast

of the yearly

Tigers Club Party.

Always thinking of you,

and wishing that

all your dreams come true

and that all those goals

you have set

reach the happiest of results

through the purest of roads.

Here, in this booth at HTLM

we feel honored,

overwhelmed...

Yes, why not?

Overwhelmed with joy

to be able to serve you,

to answer your calls.

Mrs. Lorenza from La Colonia

los Jardines de la Luz

sends warmest regards

to all the family

and wishes happy times

for everyone.

Mrs. Lupita Raquel

sends us a wish

of glory to God in heaven

and peace on earth

for the people of goodwill.

- How beautiful...

- We're dead...

Happy New Year.

Tell me where it is or my uncle

won't leave me alone.

What is it exactly...

this thing?

What the f*** does

the old man want it for?

He never told you?

You all think I'm stupid,

don't you?

He thinks that will help him

to extend his life.

That f***er does nothing

but sh*t and piss all day,

and he wants to live longer?

Leave me alone.

Do whatever you have to do,

but leave me alone.

Of course, sir.

I will leave you, when...

and if...

it pleases me.

Get it?

Get up.

Get up.

F***!

F***!

How quiet.

All this blood, my God.

All this blood is mine.

I'm dying.

How weird.

Everything is upside down

and I'm dying...

alone.

Alone.

Don't let me die today.

Oh, it hurts so bad.

I can resist a lot longer...

a lot longer.

Oh, Aurora.

Great, Tito.

Great.

The forehead is coming out perfect.

Like nothing ever happened.

- It's your best work.

- You bet.

It has its secrets.

Here I'm giving form...

texture...

I'm giving it color...

They think I'm a f***ing artist.

Yeah...

but don't work on it too hard,

we're going to cremate him.

What?

Motherf***er,

what do you mean "cremate him"?

You should have told me. I wouldn't

have dolled him up, f***er.

God, rest in peace.

It seems no one

respects my work here.

Why don't they tell me?

You, why didn't you tell me?

- Huh?

- The widow changed her mind.

It seems the guy didn't have

anything prepared.

No tomb, no grave, nothing.

They're all the same.

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