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It's a great honor to be here,
to introduce you to one of the greatest comedians in the world.
This guy... I'm telling you, guys.
Mexico City, are you ready?
Let me introduce you
to the one and only...
Let's make some noise for Franco Escamilla!
Full venue!
How are you tonight?
That's great that you answered.
If you don't know me, I'm Franco Escamilla. Nice to meet you.
Thank you for coming and buying a ticket.
The Arena in Mexico City...
Fuck! You're a lot of people!
I'm really sorry. We promised you a great show,
and it's not that good, actually.
I'm sorry I tricked you, my brothers.
Those who follow me on social media
heard that last year my wife had surgery.
Everything went well, thank God.
Poor thing, she's had about...
five surgeries in three years.
And I tell her,
"It's your fucking bad luck, isn't it?
You attracted all the bad vibes.
Shit, that's your luck."
At every surgery,
I was there by her side,
to make fun of her, obviously.
When you've had surgery, you can't do anything,
and, poor thing, she can't even move, and I...
know she can't move her stomach muscles,
she just had surgery.
So I tell her jokes.
And she can't laugh!
Everything that happens at home, I say it's why she had surgery.
I ask, "Do we have water?" "No, I didn't buy any."
"See? That's why you need surgery."
"Is dinner ready? No?
You're going to need surgery."
"The kid flunked. Surgery."
Everything!
And recently, I had surgery, my brothers.
It was her time for revenge.
I'll tell you, she was a better person.
She didn't say anything.
She was by my side when I woke up.
There she was, taking care of me.
She didn't say a word.
But that fucking smile is what pisses you off.
She asked, smiling, "Does it hurt?"
And I was like...
"See? You made fun of me, that's why you had surgery."
Last year, she had surgery,
and she was at home recuperating.
You community college guys, she was sick at home.
We adapted a room for her.
With an IV and all the shit.
And I took charge.
I uploaded a video to YouTube called "Single Dad." You can watch it.
In it, I explain what I did as a father and mother.
A real fighter dad.
I won't talk about that...
What I didn't mention
is the meeting I went to at my kids' school.
I'd never gone as a dad.
It's something else, brothers.
It's not great, really.
Any teachers or principals here tonight?
A heartfelt fuck you!
Let me explain myself.
I value, respect and admire
the work teachers do.
I believe Mexico's future is in their hands.
Future Mexicans depend on their teachers.
We must value them more.
It's not fair that a professional soccer player
earns more than 100 teachers.
But you teachers should also make it easier for us to like you, fuckers.
Don't hold your meeting on a Monday at 8:30 a.m.,
no one wants to go.
Hold it on a Wednesday...
at ten p.m.
Open bar for the dads.
I'll be damned if that meeting isn't packed.
You'll be celebrating.
"A school meeting on a Wednesday! Yeah!"
Your wife says, "I'll go."
"No, I'll go. They're my kids. Fuck it!
We're talking about my precious children."
But no. Meeting on a Monday at 8:30 a.m.
I go to bed at that time, brothers.
I'm really sleepy in the meeting,
and the teacher's voice doesn't help.
The teacher carrying her books,
"During this academic year...
the school staff is committed..."
And I'm like, "What a drag!"
And I remembered when I was a student,
and my dear mother attended those meetings.
That was fun, my brothers.
For starters, it wasn't in a meeting room,
but in your classroom.
They took all the students out,
the parents went in,
and they were told to sit on their child's desk.
And so you drew a dick on your best friend's desk...
and told him, "Hey, your mom sat on a dick!
"Don't be so obvious, woman!"
It was cool, because you met your friends' parents.
And you made fun of them.
You saw your buddy's mom and told him,
"Hey, dude. Your mom is really ugly!
Now I see why your dad ran off, dude!
"With a bird like that I would have left too."
"Her mom didn't deliver her, she shit her, poor thing!"
The woman's face all crooked.
"Is that just your mom's face, or is she gonna sneeze?"
She looked like Stitch from the Disney film!
She gave me an angry look, and I was like, "Ohana 626!
"We are the same!"
But it was fun.
Because, with all due respect,
there are women,
that have teenage kids,
and they are still very good-looking.
And you turned to your buddy,
"Hey, dude,
your mom is so hot!
How about you being my son?"
Your friend said, "Fuck you!
That's no way to talk to your father!
You're going to bed without any dinner."
But you were fooling around,
the meeting finished,
you went back in the classroom,
happy...
and you heard something that froze your blood.
When the teacher said to your mom,
"Madam, could you stay for a moment?"
"Oh, fuck..."
My dear mother turned and pointed a finger at me.
And I began. "The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.
He makes me lie in green pastures."
You knew what was coming.
I'll tell you something. Now I understand her.
Poor thing, my mother.
She always had to stay, and it's infuriating.
They did it to me , my brothers.
It's infuriating. You listened to the whole meeting,
and because your kid fucked up, you have to stay longer.
You envy the parents leaving.
You see them leave, like, "Oh, yeah. Fuck you."
"My kid is well behaved." "Fuck you!"
The meeting at my kids' school finishes
and the teacher says,
"Mr. Escamilla, do you have a moment?"
I turned to my kids and pointed a finger at them.
The two kids were like...
"What?"
These assholes don't respect me!
I asked the teacher, "What did they break? Okay. I'll pay you double."
I wasn't gonna have to stay the next Monday!
The teacher is very serious.
"There was a problem with your kid."
"What did my baby do?"
"Your kid
got into a fight
with a close friend."
And I said, "My close friend?"
You can see I was joking, right?
I'm a comedian,
I want to break the ice with this fucking bitter-ass teacher...
The teacher didn't get it.
Now she thinks I'm stupid.
She explains it to me as if I were her student.
"No, your kid has a best friend here at school."
"Oh, I see!
Thank you!
I thought my buddy was validating his studies here."
I said, "Okay.
My son got into a fight
with his close friend."
I asked what any father would have asked.
"Who won?"
They showed me the video.
Now they have video!
Remember when it was your word against the teacher's?
He scolded you and your father went, "What happened?"
"The teacher is an asshole.
He doesn't like me. I didn't do anything."
Now there's a video that proves you were acting like an asshole.
In the video, you could perfectly see my kid,
sitting at his desk, working,
and out of nowhere,
a classmate comes up and slaps him.
His nose bled.
My kid stood up crying.
He fucking hit the other kid.
He threw him to the floor, and kept hitting him, again and again.
Crying and bleeding all over him.
I saw the video and said, "That's my fucking warrior!
You're a fucking Viking, man!"
He's just like his mother, dude!
Not me.
Thank you, brothers. Thank you!
You know me, my brothers.
If it were me...
that fight would be over with the punch on my nose.
I would've wiped the blood off my nose,
and told the other kid, "Okay...
that's enough.
We fought it out.
We both blew off steam.
You let out your pain for your absent father.
I let out extra blood from my nose.
Let's call it even, like gentlemen."
But no, brothers. Apparently, my kid,
is an ass-kicking machine!
He's a DJ, and he gave that kid a mix of fucking punches!
I know what you're thinking!
Violence doesn't solve anything, and shit like that. Okay.
Put yourself in my shoes, okay?
I come from seven generations of Escamillas
who were victims at school.
And for the first time, we have an aggressor in our ranks.
We're all very proud of him.
The teacher wanted me to punish him.
I said, "You're fucking crazy!"
I want to buy the motherfucker a truck!
He deserves it. He's only five,
and has a better fighting record than his father.
Of course I didn't tell him off, guys.
I took him home,
for my wife to scold him.
That's what women are for.
There should be an adult in the relationship.
My wife, poor thing, just out of surgery, still with the IV.
Scolding the kid.
She said, "Sweetheart, that's terrible.
We taught you better. Is this what I'm paying your school for?
For you to get into a fight like an animal?
You're grounded for a month.
For this whole month...
you can't play Nintendo."
She's a mom, so she calls the Xbox a Nintendo.
I was going to correct her.
But then you think..."Nah!
It's not my fucking problem!"
She turned to me and said, "Right?" And I go, "Yeah!
Fucking Nintendo 1 is off-limits."
She said, "You're grounded for a month.
You can't play Nintendo.
You can't go to the park.
This whole month, you're grounded,
so you understand what you did."
My son turned to me...
like he was asking for help.
I signaled my reply. "No."
I said, "Leave it. Don't drag more people down with you."
Maybe women will think, "What an asshole!"
But I'll explain something all men understand.
Among men, we have unwritten codes of honor
that we must respect.
For example, if five friends are playing soccer,
and they break a window,
they all run, and if one is caught...
that one takes the blame,
and lets the others go.
And the others make fun of him.
So I explained to my son,
"It was your turn to take one for the team.
And don't rat me out, don't be a sissy!"
My kid left crying and I felt bad.
I told my wife, "Dude, you didn't see the video.
I'll show it to you. I have it on Instagram.
A kid fucked with him and he defended himself.
He did the right thing."
But my wife is modern, she's a psychologist.
She said, "No.
Your son has to learn
that talking opens more doors."
"Yes, but they'll knock the fuck out of you!"
I'm living proof that talking isn't worth shit!
I lived 15 years of terror. I don't want that for my kid!
She said, "He's grounded. Do what you what!"
"That's why you need surgery. Because you're mean."
And I ran away!
Yeah!
Don't want any more problems.
I went outside to the sidewalk to talk to my son.
We were both there, moping.
My kid asked me, "Daddy, was I wrong?"
I said...
"Not really.
Fuck! You looked like a real pro, dude!"
"Then why am I grounded?"
"Because your mom is weird.
That's why she needs surgery."
"Then I'm grounded for a month?"
"That's what they say."
My kid said,
"But Mom can't leave her room."
I said, "No, she has to stay in a sterile room."
My kid said, "Sterile?"
I said, "Like your uncle Pepe."
He's a cousin of mine that can't have kids.
He hates this joke. I love it!
Difference of opinion. It's a free country.
My kid said,
"If Mom can't leave her room,
how will she know I was grounded for a month?"
I said, "Dude!
You're intelligent as well as a good fighter, man!
You're the chosen one!
You're the one who will free men one day.
You're right. I've got your back, dude.
If Mom asks, say you're grounded
and say you miss your Nintendo so she'll believe you."
I know I'm wrong, brothers.
But I'm proud of my kid.
I had to go to another school meeting
to talk to the kid's parents, the victim's parents.
My favorite predator's prey.
I did behave like an ass at the school. I was really stuck-up. We had won!
I was shitty and condescending to the other kid's parents.
Like, "Well, hello...
I'm really sorry about your kid.
Look at that. Like a fucking punching bag!
But what can I do?
Once you've freed the Kraken, there's nothing you can do.
Enroll your kid in some activity.
Ballet? He's a sissy now, anyway."
I met the kid's parents.
The kid's mother is called María del Socorro.
She introduced herself casually.
She said, "Nice to meet you. Coco."
I said, "You're scaring me!"
I was about to explain that I'm a comedian and an asshole.
But the teacher said, "No, her name is María del Socorro."
"Ah, okay.
Thanks. I thought she was related to a guy that scared me as a kid."
The kid's dad...
is called Agropine.
Fuck that.
Maybe I'm wrong, brothers,
but I truly believe
that if you have such a horrible name,
you should warn people first.
If you meet someone,
you should say, "Hi. Sorry, my name is really funny.
Don't laugh."
And you can prepare yourself.
"Okay, I'm ready, man."
But this idiot just blurted it out.
He says, "Hello, how are you? I'm Agropine." I go...
"Agropine? You're fucking kidding me!
That's a fucking Pokémon name, dude!"
And the guy gets angry!
He's all serious. "I don't see what's funny."
I say, "Really?
Wow!"
The meeting starts, my brothers.
The kid's parents were there,
the two kids, the teacher, the principal, the psychologist...
And my body was there,
but my mind wasn't.
I couldn't stop thinking...
"Fuck! What a drag to be named Agropine."
Poor dude.
Doesn't it sound like a fucking ugly tree?
What do you buy for Christmas?
A pine tree?
Or an agropine tree?
It sounds like it's cheap and on sale.
Sounds like a nationality.
You meet several dudes.
They say, "My friend's Mexican.
He's from Mexico.
My other friend is French. He's from France.
And this friend is Agropine.
He's from North Agropistan, a country...
at war in the Balkans."
It sounds like a new religion.
You meet some buddies and one says,
"My brother here...
he doesn't believe in the Virgin or the saints.
He's Agropine."
You say, "I'm respectful, man.
I have other Agropine friends, we're cool."
He's a Seventh Day Agropine, some shit like that.
I'm thinking this type of shit during the meeting.
You won't believe me,
but I worked on the lyrics of the Agropistani national anthem.
Maybe you'll say I'm wrong, but I think...
that it should be a military anthem
inviting its people to war, something like...
"We are all Agropines..."
I'm thinking of all this stupid nonsense
when the teacher brings me back to planet Earth
and asks me...
"Do you agree with that?"
I have years of experience in not paying attention.
So I said, "Which of all the options?"
She said, "The only one we've talked about.
The one he proposed."
I go, "Uh... sure.
I'm okay with what...
my friend here said."
The teacher got it immediately and attacked me.
"What's his name?"
"Franco, what's yours?"
And Agro butts in.
"Say my name without laughing."
And I go...
I'm thinking, "We're all Agropines."
"Say my name without laughing!"
"I can't, dude!
Agropine!"
And the dude gets mad.
This ridiculous asshole wanted to fight.
Gracefully, but he did.
He said, "Thank God
we're at the kids' school,
because it would be a federal offense.
Otherwise, right here and now,
I'd knock your teeth out."
I said, "Oh, I'm so scared."
He already said he wouldn't do it.
So I can talk tough, too.
If he'd said, "I'll meet you outside and knock your teeth out," not a word.
I'd stay inside.
I'd stand in the doorway. "What are you gonna do, asshole?
Illegal, legal, illegal, legal, illegal, legal, illegal, legal.
I can do this all day.
I have nowhere to be. I'm a comedian, kiss my ass.
You have to go to your company, Agropine Incorporated and shit."
If there's an Agropine here, I'm sorry.
You already knew you have a fucking awful name.
You may think it's an act, but I swear
I cannot say Agropine without smiling.
Just hear me out.
If you're having a bad day...
your lover left you, you got fired...
you have a toothache, whatever...
anything bad, and you wanna smile, I challenge you...
I challenge you to stand in front of a mirror
or record a video in selfie mode...
I challenge you to repeat three times, without laughing,
"My friend is very fine His name is Agropine."
Hashtag #AgropineChallenge.
If you put it on Twitter, I'll retweet it, damn it!
I was about to go home, my brothers,
victorious...
and the teacher says,
"We're not finished yet."
Ugh!
"There was another problem with one of your kids."
I turned to my kid.
"What happened, champ?
Who did you knock out now?
Who did Mr. Knock Out teach a lesson to today?
Who did Chef Beatings serve a salad to?"
I have more where these came from.
The teacher told me, "No, your daughter got in trouble."
"My little girl?
She never does anything wrong."
She said, "Your daughter...
got into a fight with her best friend."
"Okay, okay.
Thank you.
My little girl got into a fist fight?"
She said, "No, no."
The problem was that my daughter insulted her best friend.
As soon as she told me my daughter insulted another girl,
I thought, "I'll get blamed for that."
I could imagine the scene back home.
My wife with the IV, poor thing,
scolding me...
"See? You and your damn videos.
I've told you not to rehearse at home.
Your swearing and vulgarity."
I'm angry. "That puts food on the table, motherfuckers!
How come when I'm paying the bills I'm not vulgar?"
I was as good as divorced, my brothers.
But first, I asked,
"What insult did my little girl use?"
The teacher took out a notebook,
as if the asshole couldn't remember.
"The girl said...
and I quote...
'You're Indian and trashy.'"
I felt better. I thought, "Those are not my insults."
You know me, my brothers.
If my daughter had said,
"You're a bitch and a fucking asshole," that's my bad.
But you have to agree that "Indian" and "trashy"
are insults used by women.
I went back home feeling good, brothers.
I got there with my boxing gloves on!
I threw the school bag...
"See what you've fucking done?
What you teach my little princess?
You don't even make videos!"
But my wife, a woman, after all,
took charge of the situation and calmed down.
She scolded my girl.
She said, "Honey, don't speak like that.
You're a lady, like your mother and grandmothers.
We have taught you right.
Your father uses those words in his work
because he's a comedian
and he's a jerk,
and he didn't go to college."
I got mad, because if the girl is the problem,
why does she attack me?
So I jumped in. I said, "Ma'am?"
I said, "For starters,
you know I went to college.
We met there.
You know I studied not one but three majors."
I don't practice any, thank God!
Because I didn't finish any of them.
I did go to college, I didn't graduate.
She told my daughter, "Honey you're grounded.
This whole month, no Internet,
no Netflix, no YouTube,
no dolls, nothing.
You're grounded for a month, so you learn not to be rude."
And my daughter asked my wife,
"Really grounded or like my brother?"
I said, "Shut your mouth!"
I said, "Dude!
Don't spill the beans,! We'll talk outside."
But she's a woman after all. She said, "If I go down, someone's coming with me!
I'm not going down alone!"
And my little girl was about to leave,
and my wife asked her,
"Hey, where are you going? Come back!
Where did you hear those insults?"
I even smiled, my brothers.
My little girl turned to me,
she opened her eyes wide
like she was asking me for help.
I'll do anything for my girl.
I stood next to her,
put my hand on her back and said, "Honey,
you're already grounded, relax.
Daddy and Mommy want to know where you heard those words,
to solve this problem.
If you heard them from Daddy,
Daddy won't get mad,
because Daddy loves you.
Even though Daddy is an uneducated jerk.
But if you heard them from Mommy,
Mommy won't get mad either,
because Mommy did graduate.
Two bachelor's degrees and a master's.
She doesn't practice, some asshole pays the bills,
but Mommy did graduate.
Mommy did go to college."
I said, "So, honey...
This is a safe place. Tell Mommy and Daddy...
where did you hear those insults?"
My wife looked straight into her eyes.
My little girl turned to me. I gave her my support.
My little girl smiled
and adopted a posture like she was challenging her mother.
And with a smile on her lips, she said,
"From Dad."
I thought, "Fucking Judas, dude!"
Now you're grounded for two months!
That'll teach you not to lie."
She went to her room.
My wife was about to scold me,
so I ramped up the painkillers in the IV.
"It's four o'clock. Good night. Time to sleep."
I went to scold my little girl.
I said, "Honey...
in this house, we curse, but we don't lie."
Maybe you haven't heard, friends, but at my home - feel free to drop by -
we have a zero tolerance policy to lying.
Implemented by myself.
I never tell lies.
Not because I'm a good person, don't get me wrong.
I don't tell lies
because I'm too lazy to remember what I said.
You need a very good memory to lie.
When you tell your wife a lie, she says, "Okay, everything's fine."
But she asks you again six months later.
She asks, "What happened that day you got in late?"
You think, "Fuck! I can't remember!"
Your wife does remember. She has everything written down.
That's why we don't lie at home.
So I scolded my little girl.
I said, "This is the last time
I hear you use the word 'Indian'
in a pejorative way."
Community college guys, that's not about peyote. It's "as an insult."
I told my daughter I was mad at her, and sad.
I tell you, my brothers,
"Indian" must be eradicated as an insult.
We find it easy to call another Mexican "Indian."
We must not do that, my friends.
Indian comes from indigenous people.
And honestly, we are all Indians.
All of us!
I'll say it again in case you're thinking, "Sure, I know some."
No, you too, motherfucker!
All of us!
In our veins, in our arteries,
we have at least one drop
of blood that's Aztec, Toltec, Chichimeca, Tlahuica, Maya, and so on.
If we shake your family tree, some Indian will fall off a branch.
I don't care how white your skin is,
how blonde you are,
we are all Indians, okay?
Thanks! I sincerely mean it.
I don't know how it is here, in Mexico City,
but in Monterrey, where I live,
it turns out now we're all Europeans!
Yeah.
Anyone you ask, "Hey, where are you from?"
They say, "Well, I was born here."
"So you're Mexican."
"No, no. I mean, I was born here, but...
Like, my father's side is Spanish.
My father's last name is Catalan.
And my mother's last name is French, from a region called Bordeaux.
So I'm French-Catalan."
Yeah, but your face is from Tenochtitlan, motherfucker.
Don't be such a fucking snob.
I explained it to my little girl.
I said, "Sweetheart, your dad is proud to be an Indian.
I'm fifty percent Tlahuica,
fifty percent we don't know."
My theory is that during the Second World War,
a Japanese fucked an Indian and that's how...
the mix was made.
So I said, "Honey, your dad is Indian.
Your brother is Indian. Your grandparents are Indian.
Your aunt Juanita is very Indian."
I have a sister-in-law, man...
When she dances, it rains.
But it shouldn't be an insult.
I told my little girl, "Don't say 'Indian' as an insult,
and don't tell people they're trashy.
Especially not trashy people.
Trashy people are aggressive.
They will knock your teeth out!"
I asked my little girl,
"Why did you fight with your best friend if she's your best friend?"
Very seriously, she answered,
"Daddy, no offense, but...
it's my problem."
I didn't know how to handle the situation.
Everything I do as a father
is based on what my parents did with me, okay?
I never spoke like that to my mother, man.
I don't have a reference.
If I came back home with a black eye for the zillionth time,
and my dear mother asked, "What happened at school?"
and I said, "Mom, no offense, but...
it's my problem,"
my dear mother would've smiled, brothers,
and said, "You don't say!
Well, now you have two problems.
Your problems are multiplying."
And, grabbing her slipper, "You tell me or you'll tell this one.
So start talking, son of your fucking dad."
Because that's the way she insults me.
To this day!
Her favorite insults are "Fatherfucker"
and "Grandson of a bitch."
For her mother-in-law, she's not stupid.
Yeah, that's where I get it from, brothers.
But I'm a modern dad,
from this stupid generation that wants to be friends with their kids.
I told my little girl, "Honey... don't tell me.
If you don't trust me right now,
tell me when you trust me.
You have the right to your privacy.
I won't pry."
So that night, I asked my wife, because she couldn't sleep.
"I'm not sleepy," she told me.
I said, "Well, if you sleep all afternoon, what do you expect?
It's the surgery, what can I say?"
I asked my wife, "Do you know
what happened with our daughter?"
She was very serious, "Yes.
It was not nice."
I said, "What the fuck? What happened?"
She said, "It's her problem."
"Why can you fucking know?"
"Because I'm her mother."
"Nice to meet you. Franco, I'm her dad.
I had something to do in this equation known as kids."
"Don't worry. It's not your problem."
"It's already my problem," I said.
"It's a girl thing," she said.
"Now it's unisex," I said.
"What happened to my girl?"
"Why do you want to know?"
"Because there's a meeting tomorrow about this shit,
and Madam Surgery is not going.
I want to know what I'm dealing with."
So she spilled the beans. I'll tell you.
This happened last year, okay?
Everything I'm going to tell you happened last year.
I was in Monterrey. This was September, last year.
I was writing a Halloween special we made.
And they told me about this problem.
I remember very well that my daughter
entered my studio and said, "Daddy,
don't use this for your show."
Yeah. You know, kids!
But no. I just told you we don't lie at home.
I was very honest with her.
I said, "Well...
hell, I'll use it.
First, it's a great story.
Second, I don't have material for next year.
Third, it's in your best interest. You'll get toys from this."
So she gave me her permission.
This problem happened at school, okay?
My daughter has attended the same school
since she entered kindergarten.
When all this happened,
she was in second grade, okay?
Since she was in kindergarten,
she's been friends with two people.
Her former best friend, with whom she got into a fight,
and a boy that's some kind of
friend-slash-boyfriend to my daughter.
You laughed. I don't find it fucking funny at all!
Those who have daughters, you'll understand.
When you have a daughter, she's not your daughter, she's your princess, right?
I believed in love at first sight the day she was born.
When I first held her, I said, "I don't know who you are,
but I'm your slave, I'm your bitch for life!"
As a man, it's easy to surrender to your daughter.
She's the only woman that no matter what she does,
I will always love her to death, okay?
She can't cheat on you with another father, you see?
She will always be your daughter.
Your daughter is your engine,
your fuel, your drive to live.
Your princess.
And there's always an asshole friend
who has a baby boy your daughter's age,
and he comes to your house carrying his piece of shit,
and he even shows him off, as if,
"Huh?"
"What do you want, asshole?"
"Don't get mad, but can you imagine?"
"I imagine a lot of things, that's my job."
"Don't get pissed, Diablo!
I'm only saying, what if...
when your daughter and my son grow up,
what if...
they got married?"
I said, "What if they didn't?
Your fucking kid is really ugly!
You're an idiot and your son is cross-eyed.
I don't want those genes here.
So you and your cockeyed son can go fuck yourselves!
And show my princess some respect!"
But, well... my daughter has a boyfriend.
I even like the kid.
I swear, I want to hate him, but I can't.
He's a great kid.
Someday, God willing, he'll be a great man.
He's top of his class.
He's the smartest kid in his grade.
He's a nerd. What else can I ask for?
That asshole will make us all rich.
I'm not giving him permission to date my daughter,
I'm investing in my retirement.
And even though I can tell you what happened,
my daughter made me pinky swear
that I won't say the names
of her boyfriend and ex best friend.
It's an oath I will honor.
So I gave them both an alias.
We'll call the boy Turdy...
And the former best friend, Shitelle.
So Turdy...
Shitelle...
and my princess...
are friends since kindergarten.
They've been friends for five, six years.
They're seven, eight years old.
So they've been friends their whole lives.
They've always been together.
They do everything together.
Homework, recess,
the same after-school activities.
On Friday, their mothers get drunk together.
Well... they say they drink coffee.
To this day, I haven't seen a single cup of coffee at home.
But I've seen a fuckload of frosted glasses.
I'm not saying anything, but it doesn't seem like coffee.
The kids are always together, okay?
The couple and the best friend.
The problem was that Shitelle
told my princess on a Monday,
"Hey, friend...
I'll tell you so you hear it from me."
You women can see the fucking fight coming, right?
The men are thinking, "What a good friend!" No.
It works differently between girls.
"Hey, friend, I'll tell you so you hear it from me.
This Saturday...
Turdy and I...
went together to the movies.
Just as friends.
Before the movies, we went for a soda
and we talked about you!
We obviously talked about you.
This and that, and blah, blah, blah.
One thing led to another,
and Turdy confessed he's in love with me.
He said I'm the prettiest girl in the second and third grades.
He asked me to be his girlfriend.
I told him I needed time to think about it.
So after the movie, I said yes.
So now he's my boyfriend.
We're very happy.
We love each other a lot.
I'm asking you, as my best friend,
to move aside and let us be happy."
My little girl answered,
"You're an Indian and fucking trashy!"
It was wrong.
But fucking spot on.
The whore deserved it. You don't do that.
You don't do that to your friend.
But, my brothers, that was when I understood
that they broke my daughter's heart, okay?
At the age of seven,
she lived through one of the three worst experiences.
Her lifelong boyfriend
left her for her lifelong best friend.
It's not cool that I saw my daughter cry.
I saw her go into her room.
She didn't want to go to the park with us,
because they broke her heart.
My brothers, you can say anything to me and I don't give a shit, I promise.
I can't think of an insult I haven't heard.
I don't give a damn, I swear.
But when they hurt your kids, that's a different pain, my friends.
A fury and impotence I had never felt.
I was so pissed at home.
"Fucking Turdy!
Your time has come, asshole!"
I fucking called my manager. "Brian!
Get me two fifth graders...
that want to make five hundred bucks.
I need two fifth grade kids,
an abandoned warehouse...
a fuckload of duct tape...
a clown costume, white cardboard, a black marker,
and a white kitten."
Let me explain.
My plan was
to tie Turdy to the chair
in an old abandoned warehouse.
The lights are off.
Let him marinate in his own fear
for some three, four hours.
Suddenly, a spotlight turns on
and yours truly appears,
stroking a white kitten.
And, in a James Bond villain voice,
I say to him,
"So, Turdy...
You like playing with little girls' hearts?
Let me introduce you to two friends."
The two fifth graders come in.
They're not a big deal to you,
but to a second-grade boy, they're two fucking monsters!
And, to further intimidate him, one of them is dressed as a clown.
The other one has a white cardboard sign with black letters that spell "Over."
I say, "Look, Turdy...
These are my friends.
Clown and Over.
One of these two is going to screw you today!"
Thank you, my brothers.
That was my plan.
But my wife wouldn't go for it!
She's weird.
That's why she needs surgery.
She said, "Don't get involved.
Let her learn from this."
I said, "What will she learn?
They broke your daughter's heart, fuck!
It's the worst thing that can happen when you're seven."
She said, "Let her.
It's her introduction to a woman's world."
I said, "Huh?"
She said, "Think. Don't be visceral."
"What do my fucking insides have to do with anything?
Are you saying I'm fat?"
She said, "Think, okay?
You're very impulsive. Think for two seconds.
Your daughter is a woman,.
Okay?
It's not the last time
she'll cry because of a man and his shit.
And it's not the last time a friend will betray her.
Let her build a defense,
an armor, an emotional shield.
For you men, this is the worst that can happen.
For us women,
this is a Tuesday morning."
It's scary, my brothers.
You're looking at me and can't tell,
but I like to pan when I tell this joke,
because most ladies,
consciously or unconsciously,
nod their heads like this...
as if remembering an old wound.
"Sure, Martita, the whore, sixth year."
Women look at it as a learning experience!
She said, "Don't get involved.
It's her introduction to her life as a woman.
I'll say it again because you're pigheaded.
Stay out of it."
My brain heard it as "Go ahead with the plan."
The following day...
I went to my daughter's school to blow things out of proportion, obviously.
I arrived with my daughter, dressed the same as her to look scarier.
Shitelle in the distance,
at the water fountain, drinking like the animal she is.
I asked my daughter, "Is that Shitelle?
She looks trashy.
But don't tell her that."
And Turdy's father arrives
and greets me as if we were friends.
"How are you, Franco?" I said, "What the fuck?
Mr. Escamilla to you, asshole."
He said, "Do you have a minute?"
I said, "Dude, I have minutes to spare.
Your kid, not so much."
He asked, "What's that?"
"An imaginary white kitten.
It doesn't make much sense now, you'll understand when you see the joke.
But the kitten is leaving now."
You saw it, assholes! You did!
I see it too sometimes. Don't worry.
His name is Mr. Mustache.
He said, "Do you have a minute?" "Yeah, what's up?"
"Hey, do you know why your daughter
doesn't want to be friends with my son?"
I said, "Oh, yes."
"What happened?"
"You don't know?
Well, maybe because...
because...
your kid is a fucking dick
and doesn't respect women, that's why we're not speaking to him."
I included myself. What an asshole!
He said, "But it's not fair,
because Shitelle went to your house on Sunday
and your daughter said she was fed up with my son.
Didn't want to be his friend anymore.
She asked Shitelle to tell him
she doesn't want to see him ever again."
I said, "That's bullshit! It wasn't like that.
Your son and Shitelle
went to the movies on Saturday by themselves."
He said, "How can they have? They're seven years old."
I had not thought about that.
Maybe it's logical to you,
but put yourselves in my shoes.
When I heard about it, I got angry and couldn't think straight.
I didn't see that Shitelle made everything up!
The whole Machiavellian, perfect plan
that got two 36-year-old men into an argument
was a seven-year-old girl's plan
to steal her lifelong best friend's boyfriend.
Fucking broads, they're really crazy, man!
I immediately called my wife to tell her all this shit.
"Dude!
You should've seen what happened, dude!"
I told my wife everything. She kept her cool.
She said, "I told you not to get involved.
Something was obviously fishy.
Come home, please,
and don't speak to anyone."
And my brain understood this as "Go make this shit worse."
Brothers, I'm not proud of what I'm about to say.
I was wrong. I have to say it, so wrong.
I told Shitelle's parents to go fuck themselves.
I said they were the worst parents ever.
I didn't know they were getting divorced.
I said, "Some day you'll get divorced
because of this fucking brat!"
I told the girl, "It'll be your fault, dude!
You parents will divorce some day and it will be your fault!"
The mother was crying, man.
School security came to calm me down. I was like, "Don't touch me, asshole!
You're not even a real cop, fuck you!
My cousin in the military will beat the hell out of you."
Turdy came over to calm me down.
A seven-year-old kid!
He came up and said, embarrassed, "Sir, I just found out.
I swear it isn't true.
I like your daughter, she's my best friend.
I would never stop speaking to her.
She's everything to me, she's my sun, my moon..."
"Shut your fucking mouth!
Dude, you're talking about my little girl.
But you and I are okay, don't sweat it."
I immediately called my manager. "Brian, cancel everything.
The poop is saved, I repeat, the poop is saved.
Pay the two kids and the warehouse owner.
Return the clown costume, and I'm keeping the kitten."
And as I was being kicked out...
To this day, I'm still banned from my kids' school.
Which is fine. I don't have to attend any meetings.
My wife says, "There's a meeting." I say, "I wish I could, but...
there's nothing I can do."
I got to witness, my brothers,
Turdy doing a heroic deed.
In front of everyone in the classroom,
Shitelle's parents, his parents,
yours truly, the teachers,
in front of everyone,
Trudy got on his knees,
asked my daughter to forgive him,
and gave her a teddy bear.
Yes, many do that.
No, you're not seeing it from my side.
Because I witnessed, with horror,
a seven-year-old kid
asking forgiveness and humiliating himself
for something he didn't do.
With tears in my eyes, I hugged him.
I told him, "Dude...
Welcome to life as a man."
My name is Franco Escamilla.
Thank you, people. Take care.
God bless you!
I want to introduce to you, my brothers,
some people who are very important to me.
My brothers and sisters, The Diablo Squad. Let's give them a hand!
Thank you for being part of this dream!
I'm Franco Escamilla. You made me so happy.
Thanks for making history with me!
Take care! God bless you! Bye!
Subtitle translation by: Sofía Bentin