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Fandom: Once Upon a Time in Mexico
Title: Drabble Set 2
Rating: Mature
Notes: Another set of drabbles for this particular universe.


He'd seen the type. Young gringos, so certain they knew what they were doing, so sure they could walk the line between can and can't. The land took them, chewed them up, spat them out. They went back respectful. Sands had the look.

When Sands fell, he'd fall hard. It happened here.

He hadn't been intending to get involved - he'd intended Sands be another young pup allowed to sniff around. He was too old. Instead, the young pup had a bite to him.

When he'd heard what happened, long after Dios Los Muertos, he'd thought it might have been justice.


It's something I heard once. A gringo woman talking about piano. "Vamp until ready". I had to ask her what it meant. Once she'd explained it meant repeating the same few bars, filling up time until the singer is ready to start singing, I understood what she meant.

I mean, it's my life, isn't it? I play the same few bars, over and over again, take money from women for kisses, for more than kisses. Earn enough to keep me in guitar strings and tequila. I'm not living, I'm just filling in time until El is ready.

Then I play.

(Cucuy 2)

A reputaton is much more than words. It's a legend, an aura, the thoughts you inspire in others. A reputation is something you can have to inspire others, something you can use to establish who you are.

I chose my name carefully, buried who I was. Now I am the thing that stalks the nightmares of small children. I am more than I was before, the boy with the gun and dreams. I will be a legend. I will be more than that boy ever dreamed he could be.

My legend will start with the defeat of another. The mariachi.


I've seen too much, been too much, for far too long. Now, I want to drift. Music to ease some of the pain, to buy enough money to buy enough tequila to ease the rest. Then I can disappear.

I know it's killing me. I know. Perhaps I want to die. Perhaps I want to drift away from it all, let myself be cut free from every tie to this world. But always, always they haul me back to the past and the present, and the memories.

If I could dig myself free of the tequila, I'd almost hate them.

(Billy Chambers)

I was down and out. They'd flung me outa El Rey, and where the hell was I supposed to go? Back to the States? Hell, at least one of the crimes I done was in a death penalty state, and I like living.

This ain't living. Spic bastard don't pay me more than taco money. Workin' for someone like him ain't living. Some of the shit he's been makin' me do lately, well, it's bad. Real bad.

If I could get a letter to Mom, I'd tell her to send the FBI. Stick a fork in me, Lord, I'm done.

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