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A new world enslaved.
This is a land in need of a hero.
They call him
Machete. Machete. Machete.
He knows the score.
We need a leader.
We need a revolution.
We need you, Machete.
He gets the space babes.
The people need us, Machete.
This is a new Network.
It's all galactic and shit.
He thinks he's God in Heaven.
So Heaven must fall.
And he kills the bad guys.
Starring Danny Trejo,
Michelle Rodriguez...
Eat photons, bitches.
...Alexa Vega.
With Justin Bieber as Bleep.
And Lady Gaga as
whoever she wants to be.
With special guest star
Leonardo DiCaprio as the Man in the Silver Mask.
Actor subject to change
Machete Kills Again...
...In Space.
Rated X for cigarette use, prolonged sexual content,
pervasive language and space violence.
Where the fuck are they?
Hands up, assholes!
ICE. You're under arrest!
Stay down!
Immigration?
The fuck is this?
What the fuck does it look like?
Get your ass on the ground.
Sweetheart, I'd lose whatever strapdick you rode in on...
Don't call me sweetheart.
Move and I'll blow your brains out.
You can't! You don't have jurisdiction!
We're the goddamned military!
You're selling military weapons to the cartel.
Did you really think they were gonna pay you?
You're lucky we got here first.
Cartel.
Where's el cohete?
It's about goddamn time!
You fuckholes were supposed to be waiting.
Save these two for me.
I know you.
You're Machete. Enemy of the cartels.
It's my lucky day.
A man who kills a legend becomes a legend himself.
Who are these guys?
All right, let's go.
No! He said "cohete."
These guys are pros. They didn't come here for a couple of used M-16s.
Let's go, it's not worth it.
You're the one that taught me that the law
and justice aren't always the same thing.
We gotta stop 'em.
Oh, shit.
I wish you hadn't seen this.
You have the right to remain silent.
Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.
That is quite the resume you got there, Taco.
I mean, one might consider you
to be a bit of an overachiever when it comes to killing people.
I bet you consider yourself a mean motor scooter, don't you?
Especially now we got 24 cartel boys
laid out in pieces all over my desert.
Well, I got news for you, Taco.
They was the reserves. They was the peons.
They're the red-headed mongoloid runts of Los Cuerpos,
and Los Cuerpos don't take kindly
to strangers disciplining their own.
Can I get an amen on that, Clebourne?
Amen, sir.
See, here's the bad news for you, Taco.
I'm the only one who plays vigilante around these parts.
And since you just killed yourself a Federal officer,
I'm about to have me and mine a hog-killing good time.
I didn't kill her.
Tomato, tomato.
Let's not get hung up on the details, shall we?
Drop him, Clebourne.
Well, I'll be goddamned.
They say he doesn't die, sir.
Been shot, stabbed.
Doesn't ever die.
Bull-fucking-shit.
This Pedro has just got a thick neck is all.
Sheriff, it's for you.
It damn sure ain't the governor.
It's the President.
The President. Yeah?
Of course, Mr. President. Yes, sir.
This is Machete.
Machete.
Welcome to the White House.
Good thing we got to you when we did.
Southern hospitality can be a bitch.
Why am I here?
Right to the point. I like that.
No bullshit.
I'm a bit of a no-bullshit guy myself.
So, all bullshit aside...
Get someone else.
We need you, Machete.
We got a situation on our hands.
There's a revolutionary south of the border named Marcos Mendez.
You heard of him?
He's crazy. He's out of his mind.
He's got a missile aimed at Washington.
He says he's gonna blow us up if we don't invade Mexico,
clean up the cartels, and stop the violence
they're spreading across the land.
What's that got to do with me?
The basic violation of sovereignty aside, we can't take the bait.
However, you know Mexico. Hell, you are Mexico.
I want you to head back south,
find Mendez, and just check him out.
But if what he's saying is true,
kill him.
I'm not interested.
Motherfucker, I'm not asking if you're interested.
I'm the President of the United fucking States, man.
Machete don't smoke.
I could just as easily send you back to your pals
in Hang 'Em High, Arizona.
The way I see it, you ain't got much to chew on, hombre.
You know what this is?
Your criminal record.
Do this for us and, poof, it's gone.
Your past no longer exists.
In exchange for your services, I'm making you legal.
You don't have to sign anything,
raise your right hand, none of that shit.
I just stamp this bad motherfucker,
and you are now an official citizen of the USA.
I just saved you from your noose.
Save me from mine.
Do it for your country, your new country.
Isn't that what your dead girlfriend would want?
Agent Sartana?
If you won't do this for me, Machete,
do it for her.
Your contact is in San Antonio.
She'll brief you and get you across the border wall.
Your nation owes you a debt of gratitude, Machete.
Go kick some ass.
Ladies and gentlemen, El Rey Network's very own Miss Texas Pageant
presents Miss San Antonio!
Thank you.
What do I believe?
I believe ¡n the word "equality."
I believe in a woman's right to choose.
Choose what?
A snow cone, if that's what she's in the mood for.
I believe in good barbecue, the two-step, and the right to carry a gun.
World peace? Sure, why not?
But if we really wanna talk about world peace,
we have to start by tearing down that wall that separates us from Mexico.
That wall only enables us to ignore
the violence and injustice that is occurring down there,
thus making world peace nothing more than a beauty pageant pipe dream.
God bless Texas.
Thank you.
You must be Machete.
Blanca Vasquez.
Codename, Miss San Antonio.
I'll be your handler for the duration of your assignment.
You get into a stitch,
and I'll be in your ear with the what's what,
the who's who and the when's where of it all.
Try not to be distracted by the cleavage and the hairspray.
It's part of my cover.
This gig keeps me close to the border
and the designer duds ain't bad, either.
What happened to world peace?
Fuck world peace.
The M4 carbine long-range.
It's got reflex sights, micro-polymer grip, a customized trigger.
Fast enough to nip a jackrabbit on roller skates.
That is, of course,
you happen to come across a jackrabbit on roller skates.
Or, my personal favorite, the grappler.
Fires up to 30 yards.
Good for when you gotta scratch those hard to reach places.
I like this.
I like your style. Low-tech.
But this ain't your mama's cane cutter.
Consider this the Swiss Army Knife of machetes.
Machete.
Tell me about Mendez.
Marcos Mendez is the most sick and twisted
fuckity-fox I've ever had to keep tabs on.
People down south call him Marcos the Madman.
He used to run with Los Cuerpos
until one day he wakes up
and decides he's gonna turn on the cartel, fight for the people.
We figure he's laired-up in the jungle somewhere
since our satellites can't pinpoint him.
Our only lead is this prizewinner,
a working girl, goes by the name of Cereza.
Find her, find Mendez.
Where can I find her? In Acapulco.
Her information, including the address to her brothel, is in this dossier.
Uh, uh, uh.
First, I'm gonna need something from you.
See, even here, people talk about Machete.
The man.
The myth.
The legend.
I just wanna know the legend inside and out.
I just lost someone.
Why don't you let me turn that frown upside down, Papi?
How long since you've been back?
Since before the wall went up.
A lot has changed since then.
It's a run and gun free-for-all out there.
Acapulco is a war zone,
and we're dropping you right in the middle of it.
Here. It's a direct line to yours truly.
You get into a pinch, you just press pound to phone home.
It's good for calls, texts, tweets.
Machete don't tweet.
You do now.
You ready for this?
Good luck on that pageant.
I'm gonna need a lot more than luck!
Did you see the ass on Miss Corpus Christi?
All right.
For all of you new girls, it's peso-pussy Tuesday.
So keep your panties dropped, your legs spread, and your snatch well-oiled,
'cause you're not walking any straight lines tomorrow.
As you know,
every jerk-off low-life from this side of Rio Grande
is gonna pile through that door as soon as the sun comes down,
so get them off and get them out.
And, ladies, every stiff pecker in my parlor pays to play.
No freebies. Those are house rules.
Doors open in five minutes.
You're early, handsome.
But then again, the early bird gets the fresh egg.
I'm looking for a girl.
And I'm looking at a man that came to the right place.
Pick your poison.
This is the one I want.
Why this one?
Best in Mexico.
Have a seat on the couch, lover boy.
I'll go fetch her for you.
Where's the girl?
Upstairs. Room six. But don't go.
You'll miss the peepshow.
I blew my wad, lover boy.
Get him!
Who the fuck are you?
Machete.
I've heard Mendez speak of you.
You want to use me to get to him?
Take me.
Now.
Cereza!
I said no freebies.
You know, the first thing we are taught is to defend ourselves.
Any one of us could have killed you.
You think my mom had bite?
Mendez is gonna gut you like a game hen.
That was your mother?
You're here to kill him, aren't you?
Look, don't be a fucking hero, man.
Mendez is many things, but merciful is not one of them.
He'll skin you alive for laying your hands on me.
I'm his cereza, his virgin.
Mendez isn't who you think he is.
The terrible things he did, he did them for the greater good.
All he truly wants is a better Mexico.
Machete, you have to promise me
you'll spare his life and help him.
Please, Machete.
If you've ever loved anyone, you'd understand.
Do nothing, say nothing, or you're dead.
Who's this?
New bodyguard. Mother's orders.
Go ahead, Zaror. Call it in.
Tell Mendez the muscle comes or I don't.
Yes.
So here's the thing.
He's lost his mind. There are two sides to him now.
Some days he's Mendez the Revolutionary, fighting for the people.
But other days he's Mendez the Madman,
reliving his cartel glory.
It's a toss-up which one you're gonna get.
So he'll either hug you or he'll kill you.
His condition gets worse every day.
The boss has a message for you, Machete.
End of message.
WOW!
Look what the little whore dragged in.
Machete Cortez.
Yes, I've heard your stories.
People still sing songs about you.
Raise your hand if you have sung a song
about our friend Machete here.
Only son of a bitch who gets his praises sung around here is me.
So tell me, Machete, what did you think of my Cereza, huh?
It's a shame I had to let her go,
but by bringing you here she betrayed me.
She was trying to save you.
You know what this is?
This is the enema I plan to fire up
the asshole of the United States.
Why, Mendez?
Because our people don't need songs or stories.
They need action.
There's other ways.
The motherfuckers run this country,
the corrupt politicians, the media, hiding the truth,
and the cartels killing anything and anyone who stands in their path.
The US is responsible for a lot of this.
So since they don't take care of their part of the problem,
then we will send our part of the problem to them.
You're crazy.
With a capital muchacho.
I know why you're here, Machete.
You work for the enemy now, huh?
Mmm.
Just another Pancho doing their dirty work.
I got news for you, cabrón.
Killing me ain't in the cards.
'Cause I am the ticking, ticking wrath of Mexico, motherfucker.
Thanks to my good doctor here,
that missile's system is linked right into my heart.
So if my heart stops beating,
Washington will become the bright shining light
it always thought it was.
Disarm it.
There's only two men in the world who know how to do that.
Correction, one.
Who's the other one?
The one who created this beautiful device, of course.
But since he lives in the US, I'm afraid you are fucked.
Your mission is over, cabrón.
You have failed.
Machete don't fail.
What you gonna do, you gonna kill me?
That's a motherfucking bomb, pendejo!
I'm not gonna kill you.
I'm gonna kill your men, steal your choppers, get you over the wall.
Leave him to me!
And find the other one that can disarm you.
Shoot me!
Let me take care of him. Please.
You won't make it, amigo.
Even if we get out of here alive,
my men are instructed to put a bounty on my head.
$10 million.
We won't survive a mile, let alone the border.
And the best part is,
the fail-safe on my ticker here just went live.
You have 24 hours, my friend.
$10 million! If the assassins don't get us, the cartels will.
Hell, anyone with a loaded weapon
and a bill to pay will make a run at us.
And, boy, it's a long way to the wall.
Yeah? What's the status? Is he dead?
I have Mendez in custody.
In a chopper. He's alive.
Wait a second.
Machete, what's this I hear about you having Mendez in custody?
Things got complicated. No shit!
You were supposed to take him out, not give him a joyride
on the Good Ship Lollipop!
Damn it, I didn't recruit you for your sense of compassion.
Machete kills.
That's what he does! He doesn't save the bad guys!
Now shoot that motherfucker!
If he dies, you die. The missile is wired to his heart.
Come again?
Machete, can it be disarmed?
Only where it was made.
VozTech.
VozTech is the biggest weapons supplier to our military!
You want to bring him all the way back to the fucking manufacturer?
I need your help getting him across the border.
This is part of something big. I can feel it.
Not happening.
Last time I sent a black op team into Mexico,
they got dead and I got the Oval ass-fuck.
You're on our own, Machete.
We cannot help you until you're out of Mexico. You hear me?
Get the hell out of there as fast as you can!
Machete, double-time it to the border.
I'll assist you as much as possible,
but you've got to move your ass!
Oh, what happened?
You don't remember?
I have this condition, I'm afraid.
I seem to switch personalities unexpectedly.
You tried to kill yourself.
You strapped a bomb to your chest.
Then it seems events are already in motion.
I am Marcos Mendez, leader of the revolution. And you are?
Machete. Oh, Machete.
I've heard of you.
People sing songs about you...
We've had this talk already. Come on, get up.
I didn't hurt anyone, did I?
You had Cereza killed.
Then I'm a monster and I must die.
Let's go.
I will lay down my life for the cause.
And if you choose to remain in my company,
I fear you will become its casualty, as well.
Come on.
Should've kept up with your Spanish there, son.
Sounds like we may be able to string up this piñata after all.
Let's get on it, Clebourne.
Sounds like bean-fried Pedros are back in season.
Come on!
You wouldn't happen to have a Popsicle
I could stick up my ass, would you?
A martini. Extra dirty. Two olives.
All we have is tequila and Chango.
Right.
For a moment there, I forgot I was in a black hole of sophistication.
Chango it is.
Although, your limited selection of Mexican beer
is not what brings me here.
So what does?
You do, Carlos.
But it can't be.
They say you don't have a face.
They say you don't exist.
I may not exist, but this gun does.
You don't have to do this!
You can tell whoever hired you that I'll give back the money.
This isn't about the money, Carlos,
and it isn't about my employer.
It's about ethics.
Now if I don't shoot you square in the face,
I would be violating a contractual obligation and, well...
Please. Don't beg.
Emotional confrontations make me very uncomfortable.
How much for the Change?
50 cents.
I'm gonna give you 75.
Do you have change for a dollar?
I don't know where the hell we are.
Excuse me.
We're a little lost. Any chance you could steer us to León?
I could.
The trouble is, you've seen my face and I've just changed.
I'm truly sorry, ma'am.
It's just a matter of time and place not meeting in your favor.
I am lost. Can you help me with directions?
Is there a bus that goes nearby?
"Maneater."
That's what they used to call me when I was just a little girl.
I didn't know what that meant,
but that never stopped my daddy
from coming into my bed after a night of drinking.
So, one night, I gave him what he deserved.
I chewed his balls off with my teeth!
The next day,
I went to school with pieces of him still in my braces.
I became what he always said I was, a maneater.
I despise men. I can't trust them.
I think that pussy clouds their minds.
And now my little Cereza lays dead
because of that reason.
And that's where you come in.
As random as a selection as you might be,
you're still a man, Papi, and I am fucking famished!
Madame?
Yes?
We've found them.
Mendez and Machete.
Bring me my double-D's.
Gather all the girls.
We're going to avenge my Cereza.
Hey! You want Mendez? Here I am!
You read my mind, Machete.
Yup. yup. yup, this is the perfect place for my last meal.
Give me and my friend here a plate of your finest cabrito.
And bring some bread and wine, too, please. Thank you.
See, Machete, you're the only one who doesn't want me dead.
Puta madre, Machete.
What the hell are you doing back in Mexico?
Our federales brothers were very upset
that you abandoned us in the heat of battle.
I heard you moved to the US and cleaned rich people's pools, huh?
Put the gun down.
This man's a murderer.
He killed 13 federales in cold blood.
13 crooked federales.
Dirty lint in Los Cuerpo's pocket.
How the fuck do you know that, puto?
I was undercover.
An agent?
There's no agents in Mexico.
You're looking at Mexico's first, last, and only secret agent.
Give me one fucking good reason
I shouldn't shoot him like the dog that he is.
If he dies, thousands in Washington die with him.
And if he lives? How many more will die?
And why help the US?
'Cause I'm the only one who can.
You were always the sensitive one, Machete.
Bloody hell! It's a Mexican stand-off!
I'm taking him in.
Oh, really? Where?
You will take me straight to the cartels.
Machete. This man is a dirty cop.
Shut your fucking mouth! Shut up, loco!
You shouldn't have said that, amigo.
Because if you call me loco, then I'm afraid loco is what you get!
Hello again, Machete.
Say one more word!
Let's make a better Mexico, Machete.
All you have to do is pull that fucking trigger. Come on.
Come on!
See, Machete?
Justice and law aren't always the same thing.
What the fuck is going on here?
Where's my cabrito?
Machete!
Hola.
Ah, look at me, top scores.
Forgive my excitement, but I'm just learning to speak Spanish.
Not by choice, but I can't get the, uh, CD to change for the life of me.
But fuck it. When in Rome, right?
Well, I'm trying to find a place called Villa Guerrero.
Perhaps you've heard of it? No sé, señor.
You haven't heard of it, or "no sé," you don't understand the question?
Allow me to use a more useful illustration.
I'm really trying here.
And if you say "no sé" one more time,
I'm gonna put a bullet in your brain out of sheer frustration.
Now then, Villa Guerrero?
Your sense of direction doesn't inspire confidence, señor
Allow me to translate.
Damn. I was just starting to get used to this face.
Ooh.
Muy bien, indeed.
El doctor.
Come quick.
Get the fuck out of here. I'm performing surgery.
Put him in the bed there.
Where are they? Still inside.
Okay, you two take the rear.
Machete!
Come out and play!
It's time we had another fling!
And bring that baby-killer Mendez!
Pucker up, lover boy.
Suck on this!
Ugh, that's disgusting!
So I'm still alive.
Good for you, Machete. Good for you.
This is the crazy you talking?
I can't continue to live my life like this.
You used to be cartel.
And then you became a revolutionary.
Why? I was never cartel.
I was a secret agent for the Mexican government.
My mission was to infiltrate Los Cuerpos.
I had to see things.
I had to do things.
I had to watch people die in ways that no man ever imagined.
Compromising everything I believed, I became one of them.
I remember calling my supervisor,
telling him that I wanted out,
that I wanted my life back.
What I didn't know, he was dirty.
He had been bought by the cartels.
They took me to the killing room
where my wife and daughter were waiting.
And they made me watch
as they beat them, tortured them.
And then it happened.
The Madman took over for the first time.
My wife and baby girl died because I trusted a system that did not exist.
I realized that if I was ever going to change Mexico,
I must do it myself.
I started my own revolution
against every single rotten motherfucker responsible for this violence.
I will die to see it through.
The real tragedy in it all is that
people will never know the truth about me.
How about you? Does anybody know the real Machete?
Where's your partner? Every cop has a partner.
You couldn't keep them alive, could you?
Think about it. How old are you?
In your line of work, why have you lived so long?
Your partners knew about self-sacrifice for the greater good.
Not you, though.
You know what you are?
Vengeance.
You are vengeance.
And vengeance never dies.
It only changes targets.
Blessing in disguise, chacho.
You'd never make it past the wall in this piece of shit.
You need a stronger vehicle, an armored vehicle,
and I know where we can get one.
Small town near the border.
There's a chop-shop there.
Satellite feed coming online.
Once he crosses the border, we can move in.
Come on. Come on, come on, come on.
Come on, you want to get across that wall or what?
This is cartel turf.
You led us right to 'em, you crazy son of a bitch! Shh.
No, no, no, no. Be quiet.
They're all around us.
Waiting.
Lurking.
We're looking for a ride.
Well, this ain't Enterprise fucking Rent-A-Car.
These are custom orders.
I would do as he says, Grasa.
Well, look at this.
Marcos Mendez in the flesh.
This will do.
No shit it'll do.
That baby's my fucking masterpiece.
Could take her through a minefield without a flat tire.
Cartel!
Easy, hombre.
You wouldn't shoot a man in a wheelchair, would you?
No.
I'm jealous.
Go, Machete, go!
Hola, motherfucker.
Let's go to the nude beach.
Hey there, lover boy!
Ladies, give them hell.
Save lover boy for Mama.
I have a special package for him.
Killjoy, give me my strap-on!
Grab the wheel.
Get out!
Fuck! You're dead.
Fuck, Machete! You're crazier than I am!
Crazy like a gypsy fuck, man!
Oh, what you gonna do?
Drive through it? It's solid concrete.
Machete, what the hell are you doing?
Even Jesus couldn't get through that damn wall!
Do you know another way? There is no other way!
That's why they call it a wall, God damn it!
I know a way.
See that graffiti tag on the wall?
Drive straight for it.
An inch to either side and they'll be scraping us off the cement.
Which Mendez are you?
The one who wants to help you get across the border.
Hit it!
We built the tunnels when they built the wall.
You made it!
Well, sweet Jezebel!
I think we just hit us a stroke of beaner's luck
running into you again, Taco.
You know, you and your compadre are going for about
10 million buckaroos a head.
I was never straight A's in algebra,
but that is a shit-fire-fuck-me-hallelujah lot of money.
I figure we oughta take advantage of your lucrative predicament
and get us up to squares.
No distractions this time, right, Clebourne?
That's right, Sheriff.
All right then.
Sayonara, Taco.
Special Agent Mendez.
How many of you are there?
Sorry, that's classified.
What the hell is that?
My welcome party.
You didn't think it would all be over
once we crossed the border, did you?
Who do you think gave me that missile in the first place?
There is a grand conductor behind all this.
Zaror! You're alive!
Why re-elect President Rathcock?
He dished out $6 million of taxpayer money
to space technology companies like VozTech Industries.
He built a wall protecting us from the threat of illegals.
He took a stand and defended our second amendment with a vengeance.
And to boost our national economy to an all-time high,
he made marijuana legal in 48 states.
My fellow Americans, it's been a groovy four years.
But there is still so much left to accomplish.
For me, winning was only the beginning.
Re-elect Rathcock.
A name you like, a face you can trust.
Don't worry, Mr. Cortez.
You haven't failed your mission yet.
Where am I?
Recuperating in my sumptuous healing pool right now.
Do you like it?
And as you can see,
our friend Marcos Mendez is still very much alive and ticking.
Which makes him still very much a threat.
It needs to be disarmed.
You don't know what you're dealing with.
Well, actually, I do.
I invented it.
Allow me to introduce myself.
My name is Luthor Voz.
Let me admit, I've been following your career for quite some time now.
I am a tremendous fan of your work, Mr. Cortez.
As an aficionado of the arts of war myself,
I just gotta say that you are one genuine article,
Genghis Khan, high caliber, fucker-people-upper.
You're a warrior, Mr. Cortez. A killer.
A survivor. Like me.
Just try to relax.
I mean, if I wanted you dead, you'd be fucking dead.
Are you gonna disarm it or not?
I'm leaning towards not.
But that all very much depends on you, Mr. Cortez.
You sold Mendez the missile.
No. I gave it to him.
But then, I've given a lot of bad things to a lot of bad people,
but that does not make me one of them.
Get dressed, Mr. Cortez.
Allow me to try and convince you.
I'll turn my back.
Welcome to VozTech,
the world's premier space technology and weapons manufacturer.
You know, Time Magazine once called me
a merchant of death with an assembly line.
But one very special day, I began to think bigger.
And now I've turned science fiction into science reality.
And this, this is where we conduct our training exercises.
For what? Our exodus.
When NASA asked me to build them
a new state-of-the-art luxury spacestation,
I luxuriously told them to fuck themselves.
Why, you ask? Well, because I'd already built one of my own.
It's up there right now, just floating the fuck around,
waiting for me and my people to inhabit it.
In fact, Mr. Cortez... Machete.
Incidentally, Mr. Machete,
I plan on moving into my new space pad very, very soon.
I'm very excited. Here, have a heart.
What about the heart?
Well, that's why I'm relocating.
Climb aboard.
Yes, I'm a Star Wars fan.
Tanks, missiles, bread and butter.
It's the simple things that fund
my more out-of-this-world enterprises.
Why Mendez? Why?
Well, bin Laden is dead
and America has always needed its boogeyman,
so I created a new one.
Yes, I supplied Señor Mendez with the fireworks.
But given Mendez's aptitude for the unpredictable,
I left one of my men behind to keep me abreast
of his process or lack thereof.
What's your plan have to do with me?
I have high hopes for you, Mr. Machete.
Higher than you could mentally ascend to.
A spaceship?
Technically speaking, space shuttle.
Not to mention, my legacy.
It all started about six years ago.
I privately funded a suborbital launch. Went up myself.
Yeah, I was something of a thrill-seeker back then.
Before what I like to call "the incident."
I was up amongst the stars and something inexplicable happened to me.
I saw the future.
I saw the world ending.
It unfolded right before my very eyes.
And that's why I built this.
Aboard it, me and anyone who wants to join me will take flight.
And when kingdom comes, as it surely will,
we'll be safe amongst the stars.
Noah had his ark, I got mine.
You really believe that?
I believe what I see.
And luckily for you, sir, I saw you up there with me.
I see glimpses of what lies ahead.
It's a condition I was left with after the incident.
Speaking of which, I'd take a step or two back if I were you.
You ever had déja vu? Lasts a couple of seconds, right?
With me, it's been two years.
You don't believe me now, but you will.
Now if I couldn't see into the future,
then how could I have made all these?
Mr. Machete, I present to you the arms of tomorrow.
Pick your fancy.
And you pick the only one in the place that's faulty.
I'm sorry, but my molecule blaster doesn't quite work yet.
It keeps turning shit inside-out.
Perhaps this is more your speed anyway.
Primitive, lightweight.
Retro, yet high-tech.
Demonstration?
Like it?
Yes.
It's yours.
And now, Mr. Machete, if I could just cut to the rub.
I'd like to recruit you.
You already have enough men.
No, but not the best by any means.
How can they be when you so dominantly claim that title yourself?
Demonstration.
Good luck.
Encore. Encore.
Or three?
Genetically engineered super soldiers, you see.
Clones.
Have at 'em.
Just as I predicted.
No match for the likes of you.
I created my clones because where I'm going, I'm going to need an army.
And that poor dead bastard you met in Mexico, Zaror,
he was my prototype.
But since you fucked him up like a Special Ed science fair project,
I'm left to regret my choice.
You still haven't told me why I'm here.
I need a stronger specimen from which to draw a new batch of clones
and I was hoping that you would do me that honor, sir.
There is only one Machete.
But what if there were more?
What if there was an army of enhanced Machetes?
Machete, Machete. Everywhere Machete!
You and I together, we'd be a force to be reckoned with.
I'm sorry. I may have overreacted,
but that numbnuts was about to spill a bottle of 1787 Chateau Lafite.
No more games.
Disarm it.
Join me.
Surely you know by now that I know how all this turns out.
Then you know I'm taking this.
Oh, and where will you go?
You know I'm the only one that can disarm it.
I'll find someone else.
Oh, good luck with that.
But I think there's one more little thing you should know.
Mendez wasn't my only boogeyman.
North Korea, Russia, I have a Mendez everywhere.
And in a matter of hours, they'll launch on one another,
throwing the world into gargantuan, unrecoverable anarchy.
Too many syllables?
The world is fucked.
Why?
This world must end in order for a more perfect one to emerge.
And like it or not, Mr. Machete, you're coming with me.
Goddamn, you're good!
Get that bastard!
Try not to get too many of yourselves killed in the process!
My molecule blaster doesn't quite work right yet.
It keeps turning shit inside-out.
What took you so long?
You're luck I came at all.
Oh, we'll meet again, Mr. Machete.
I've seen it.
Been tracking you since your bounty hit the airwaves.
Quite a shit-storm you stirred up down south.
I thought I'd tap in. Couldn't let you have all the fun.
Hey. I'm sorry about Sartana.
We all are.
She was one of the good ones.
As you can see, the Network's gone full scale.
We're new and improved.
Over 500,000 extractions and counting.
When they put up the wall, we had to up our game, find funding.
Now, our reach extends all the way to San Cristóbal.
The rules are the same.
You get in, you gotta earn it.
We monitor our members to make sure they're doing their part.
If they're not, I'll deport their asses myself.
Missing? All of them?
MIA. Every last one of them.
One minute they're tearing ass for the border,
the next, they're vanished.
Disappeared without a trace.
It's like aliens abducted by goddamn aliens.
You gotta check this out.
This is the surveillance footage we got.
We think the same douchebag that took you took them.
Seems like he's building some sort of secret weapon,
possibly needs the Mexican labor to finish it.
It's in space.
He wants to get there before the missiles take off.
What missiles? What the fuck are you talking about?
Launch trigger is wired to a biological clock.
We need to find someone to disarm it.
You got anybody in the Network?
Yeah. But you don't like him.
Osiris.
Come on, Machete, he's with us.
He's not with me.
He's our only bomb guy.
You wanna choke him out, go ahead.
I hear it's always the blue wire.
What's he doing here?
He came to me about six months ago.
Said he'd changed his tune.
Cabrones ain't got no tune.
I know that you would prefer to see me all sorts of dead,
but God has already cursed me for what I did to Padre.
That's why I'm here.
To finish your brother's work.
My only redemption is in righting that wrong.
So, please, give me mercy and I swear I will make it up to you.
Or die trying.
I'd have it no other way.
This is your bomb guy?
You can try the Yellow Pages.
I gotta make a call.
You'd better be somewhere with shit reception,
because I've been trying to reach you all damn day.
Where's Mendez? Dead.
But his heart still beats.
You're joking, right?
Machete don't joke.
Humor me.
Who's got the heart?
Voz. He's bad news. Been using Mendez to do all his dirty work.
Machete, I'm gonna stop you right there, okay?
Luthor Voz may have his hand in a lot of pockets, but he's harmless.
He sponsors my damn pageant, for Christ's sake.
You need to alert the President.
Just calm down.
Tell me your location and we'll talk about this in person.
Better meet somewhere else. Have it your way.
I'm gonna text you a rendezvous point after my swimsuit competition.
Who's the bitch?
Handler.
You fuck her?
Yeah, you did.
What, you got a problem?
Yeah, I got a problem.
When you smell like pussy, it means you're pussy-whipped.
And when you're pussy-whipped, your judgment's cloudy.
Just jealous.
Is that her?
I thought Machete don't text.
Machete loves everybody.
Man, screw this.
Where you going?
With you.
It takes a bitch to make a bitch and I smell fish taco.
Tito, Osiris.
Taco time.
What do you know? I won.
Congratulations.
It's exciting, right?
You're looking at the new Miss Texas.
Who are they?
Listen, cariño, I would love to stay and chit-chat with you,
but not while there's a live missile inside state lines.
So would you please, pretty please,
get into the car and debrief me on your mission?
If that's even what you'd like to call your blood-splattered fiasco.
How'd you know? Know what?
The missile. That it was here.
Look at you.
Smarter than the average Mexican.
You work for Voz.
I promised to turn you over to Voz and Voz promised me the crown.
See, I can't really sing or twirl a baton,
but I can win.
Oh.
Papi, I'm sorry.
You and I really could have had something,
but I just love killing a good romance.
Make it count.
I knew I smelled bitch in the air tonight.
Payback's the only bitch you need to worry about.
This dress costs more than your fucking life!
Didn't anybody ever tell you not to wear a dress to a gunfight?
Oh, baby, I always dress to the nines.
I dress to kill.
Wait, no, wait! No, wait!
Where's Tito? He's down.
Go, I got this.
How many do we got?
Fuck!
He's on the roof!
Yeah, no shit he's on the roof!
Will one of you please get him off the roof... Shit!
For crying out loud,
will one of you well-paid, well-trained
gentlemen please shoot that motherfucker?
Thank you!
This is the President.
Mr. President, it's Miss San Antonio.
Machete never showed up to the rendezvous.
I just hope that he's still alive.
It doesn't matter. It's not worth it. Let's go.
Aren't you the one that taught me that the law and justice
aren't always the same thing?
We gotta stop 'em.
Fuck it.
Who am I kidding?
I really must hand it to you, mi amigo.
You are a difficult man to catch up with.
You have no idea what I went through to get here.
Hours, I spent stranded on that desert highway
until this holy rolling rig came along.
Lady. Please. Help me.
You and all your drug-pushing compadres just derailed my pursuit,
so frankly, I'm leaning in another direction entirely.
Give me mercy.
There's about three things I'd rather give you
and they're all in the chamber of this gun.
Straight up?
Or with some flair?
Straight up?
Or flair?
Whatever is the more interesting way to die.
Weirdo.
You know, I rather enjoy my new disguise.
I must apologize for making you dig your own grave.
It's appalling, not offering you a more professional courtesy,
but I'm not one for hard labor.
You on the other hand, being Mexican and all, you must be used to it.
And...
Holy fucking underground tunnel!
People!
Did you see the Mexican guy?
Drop it!
Reach for the sky before I put that illegal face in a tussle.
You have it all wrong. This is all a big mistake.
Only mistake you made was dancin' across that border, muchacho.
No, no, you don't understand.
I am no Mexican.
Don't move your hands, amigo!
Sir, really, listen to my voice.
Do I sound Mexican?
I am from Ontario, for fuck's sake!
Canadian and Mexican.
Double-whammy.
Smoke this fool!
Get him some water!
No time for water.
Doc Felix needs to see him right away. Machete!
You're back.
Sorry if I smell.
Did you know the average person passes gas 14 times a day?
It's true.
Our target, Luthor Voz.
The same proper fuck who's been jacking our members.
As we speak, he's got a missile pointed right up our ass.
And since it looks like no one else is gonna stop him, it's on us.
Machete's mission with Voz has nothing to do with us.
We are the Network.
Our mission is Mexico.
Our mission has changed.
He's right.
I'll go it alone.
You're not going anywhere without me, cabrón.
No time to argue.
Fuck that.
Let me explain something, mi gente.
This isn't about Mexico no more.
It's about the world.
No world, no Mexico.
Count me in.
Me, too. Me, too.
Ditto.
Viva Machete!
Looks like it's settled, Machete.
When do we hit 'em?
Tonight.
Network-1 in position.
Network-2 in position.
Copy that.
Here you are.
Thank you.
Ladies and gentlemen, your host, Voz!
My fellow travelers, my friends,
I proudly present the Millennium-1 ready to launch right on schedule.
Now before long,
we'll be transported to the heavens on a maiden voyage of Titanic proportion.
And once the world is purged,
we'll return to bring about a new world together!
In a moment, the boarding process will begin.
But first, my friends, prepare for infinity!
Reveal your new selves to me!
Why don't you tell them the truth?
Tell them you orchestrated all this. The missiles, the heart.
Would someone please help the help? He seems to be lost.
Tell them if the world ends, you're the one who ended it.
How can this be? This isn't supposed to be happening.
No, this isn't supposed to be... I never saw this.
Machete happens.
Look, this is no time for second thoughts.
The end is near, I assure you.
For you.
Let's do this.
Well, ladies and gents, I had hoped to have an uninhibited evening,
but now it seems...
Guards!
What about Voz? We find the heart first.
After you, chief.
Motherfuckers!
What the beating fuck is that?
Yeah, I'm more of a cherry bomb, matchstick kind of guy, you know.
Semtex, TNT. 50-50 shot on a good day.
But this... I mean, high octane organs ain't my bag.
Then what good are you?
Never mind. We're live.
It's a shame I have to kill you now, Mr. Machete, but if you gotta go,
go inside-out.
No!
We're even.
Well, what can I say?
I suppose we both like getting our hands a little dirty.
You can't beat me, you know.
I know your every move even before you do.
Nobody knows Machete.
That's true.
Ever since I met you, the future has been more unclear, and that, that puzzles me.
But then I figured it out.
There's just not a whole lot going on up there, is there?
I admit, I may not be able to predict you as accurately now,
but I assure you, I'm every bit as merciless as what you are.
Demonstration?
Keep fighting, God damn it!
Preach it, sister.
How poetic.
Now you really are the blind leading the blind.
Round them up, let's go! Get them on the shuttle now.
And someone find Voz.
All right, folks, let's keep it moving.
Form a single-file line, one after another. Thank you.
Missile launch in T minus two minutes.
One after another. What the hell?
Keep your hands in the straps and hold on tight.
Really?
You're gonna make me kill a blind chick?
I'm pretty sure they're gonna take my crown for that.
That's all right. They'll just give it to the next bimbo who spreads like butter.
All right, darling.
You wanna tango?
Let's tango.
Mano-a-mano, motherfucker.
Missile launch in T minus one minute.
Watch it now, pussycat.
That's not a very lady-like kind of thing to say.
I don't do lady-like.
So what then, you're just a regular old cranky bitch?
Or is it PMS?
If it were PMS, you'd be dead already.
It was fun while it lasted.
So now what happens?
Ask the last guy who shot my eye out.
It appears we have a stray.
And where, oh, where might our mutual acquaintance be at this moment?
Pissing on your sunny day.
You fucked with the wrong Mexican.
Indeed I have.
However, in 20 seconds, none of that will matter,
but you, well, you're looking at a pickle any way you slice it.
I can't see, but I could still kick your ass.
That's why I'm taking you with me.
Ah!
Load her onto the shuttle.
Bring them.
They can join the other laborers we abducted.
There'll be plenty of work to be done up there.
This is your captain speaking.
I apologize in advance for the discomfort you may experience during our travels,
but we are unforeseeably overbooked.
So please hang on and try and enjoy the flight.
See you in space, Mr. Machete.
Get the fuck off that man. He just saved the world's ass.
Machete, I got your message. We were able to stop the other missiles.
Where's that son of a bitch Voz?
Are you telling me that turkey is just up
there floating around with weapons and shit?
I got a wild idea. Just hear me out.
I can put you on a SpaceX rocket, top of the line.
You go up into space.
I'll do it.
Your country thanks you.
Good luck, Machete. Get the bastard.
I'm President Rathcock and I approve this message.
You can't surprise pussy-punch someone.
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