Road to Fame Page #3

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Daniela Beltrn.

I knew them all.

Three are still missing.

The others they found.

I'm crossing the border.

And I'm sending for Gladys and the girls.

Here you're nobody.

You gotta become Someone.

Someones don't disappear.

Someones move around freely.

Bad things don't happen to them.

So I figured a movie star is Someone.

Like Salma,

who does what she damn pleases.

So I decided,

"Become a star and get the hell out."

I can't stick around here.

If I stay,

they'll kidnap me.

I can feel it.

No one wants to see 400 episodes

of the poor little virgin.

Now the virgin's gotta be

in all the tabloids,

have scandalous divorces,

and sleep with soccer stars.

- Bullshit like that.

- It's the boss.

How are you, sir? Here's the game plan.

Three phases. High exposure casting.

Aerial shots, interviews,

cameo a few hopeless cases.

That sells. Human interest, melodrama.

Narrow it down to 50 for the semifinals.

For the grand finale, 10.

Are we out of razors?

Live broadcasts. Phone-in votes.

Judges. We got the drill down pat.

We can't pluck her off the street,

but that's the point.

We'll polish her and polish her

till we turn her into a star like...

Like Eva Gallardo, for instance.

What the hell's going on?

Could you wait outside?

- I never wanted this.

- So how'd it get in the papers?

Lulu, go get me the layout guy.

One dot's missing.

But still it's not bad.

You see?

- The things you can think up.

- You're so damn cynical.

This is not the end of it.

It's just the beginning.

You know that door-slamming

rattles the set.

- You're spying on me.

- No, I was just passing by.

- What do you want?

- Me? Nothing.

Actually, something.

I came to tell you I'm off to become a star.

Ouch! Hey!

Well, if she wants to be famous...

- You wanna be on TV, you gotta do this.

- She made me all red!

- You having second thoughts?

- I don't know. Probably won't even win.

My ass, you won't.

Just use the headlights tactic.

Squeeze them b*obs together

and it's all yours, baby.

Gladys, you are so nuts.

Headlights on! No judge'll notice

that bushy mono-brow of yours.

You gotta pluck them. You wanna win?

Check it out.

- That's the remedy for my blue balls.

- They are hot.

- Which flavour you want?

- Your call, boss.

I like the one in blue. I know you, sugar.

- I know you, too.

- Yeah?

They call you Satan. But your name's Jos.

You kidnapped Maribel.

You take them and turn them over.

They never return.

And you're next, gorgeous.

That's what broads need, boss.

You idiot! You stupid idiot!

Now you have to go to Mexico City!

You stick around now, they'll knife you!

What a stupid idiot!

So, Xime, what'll you tell your dad?

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