Respect, Vanna, for shutting Now, dis bruja wants all of us to draw a card.
Everyone obediently followed the instruction, except for Costume — not due to a lack of will, but something else. The fortune- teller looked at him closely and suddenly shrieked, alarming everyone. The reason was:
This rag has no soul. Bananas But this thing — nothing. And Rufaña doesn't get why the hell that is… Your soul is mine… — murmured the Copy in a familiar tone, but Costume didn't stoop to such clownery and kept arrogantly silent. What did he care about mortals?
Cards aren't just for the plot — they need to be revealed physically, when held in your hands. Flora decided to go first and showed her card. Everyone saw a giant winking drop of water, with the word Wasted written below it.
One by one, everyone else showed their cards — and each of them depicted the same drop with the same word. Vanna asked the obvious:
Why are all the cards the same? What does it mean?
As obvious as slapping two fingers on the asphalt! You're all gonna I mean, death awaits us all in the end, so this reading... it's, like, universal.
Evelyn backed up his refined frustration:
Exactly! Flo, let's pack up this freak show — 'cause what's waiting for us here is just a
Remarks like that clearly ticked off the fortune- teller. Sweating buckets and wrapping herself tighter in her shawl, she snapped in flawless English:
So what, you wanna know if your film's gonna be a success or not?
We told you that from the — Said the camerawoman. — And wow, how'd you learn the language so fast? Props for that. What app did you use? Then what kinda success are we talkin' about here? Local? Global? Flora looked at her cast and admitted: We're going for the
Oh wow! — The fortune- teller twitched her ringed — Then you must have a huge budget for your film. Yeah, as big as yours when you went to Turkey for that — Campus cackled nastily. Even Manu chuckled politely into his fist — clearly the skeptic found the psychic unbearable.
Rufaña ignored the jab. Narrowing her eyes, she locked her gaze on the director:
I propose a You agree to give me 20% of your box office revenue, and I'll tell you exactly whether you'll win that award or not. Naw, baby ma! That's some straight up janky-ass scam! — Peyota flared — Cash gets split wit' the crew, not handed out to some random lookin' like a bootleg Stevie Nicks. Y'all heard?
Need me to run that back?
The dangerous girl reached under her shirt, fiddling with her waistband. Flora jumped in quickly:
No, no — got it! We decline! — She aimed that reply squarely at the medium, whose face turned crimson with rage. Rufaña puffed up and screamed: THEN GET THE HELL OUTTA HERE! SPIRITS DON'T TALK TO BROKE- ASS PEASANTS!
At that moment, something launched through the air and landed squarely on her face, wriggling and flopping around. Rufaña shrieked in utter panic:
Get it off! What the hell is this thing?!
The whole crew burst out laughing. Some chuckled awkwardly (guess who? Yep — no surprise, Flora), while others howled openly.
The culprit? Good ol' Campus. He'd taken it upon himself to become the medium's living nightmare, flopping around like he was being puppeteered by some invisible string. The toy howled louder than Rufaña herself:
I avenged us all, you balding piece of crap! I sat on your face! Sniff my loins! Always wanted to say that ever since I learned that word!
After all the shrieking and swearing, the crew left the tent in high spirits, leaving the stunned and traumatized psychic behind. Campus returned to his usual position, strapped to his master's gut.
Just as they crossed the threshold, they bumped into a man smoking outside, nervously eyeing the entrance. When he saw the group, he asked:
Why's he yelling like that?
He has a rather insatiable appetite… for — Manu explained with elegant clarity. The man chuckled: That's my son all right. I've probably smoked a whole damn pack just trying to find the courage to go back in. He's driving me nuts with all that nonsense.
Such is the fate of a parent — to bear the burden of their — Manu mused philosophically, but his vibes were lost on Rufaña's father. The man spat on the ground and pulled out another smoke.
The troupe lingered for a moment, stirred by Vanna's cheerful cry: - A family reunion before our very eyes! Yay! You're the best daddy ever! - At that, the man shoved the cigarette back into his pack and dashed into the tent.
You're the best damn family therapist, — Evelyn said wryly.
You know it! — Vanna beamed, flushed with
As they walked beyond the fairgrounds, chatting about the first scene they'd just filmed, Evelyn made an announcement:
Congrats, folks! We did it! All the footage is right — She patted the camera like a newborn.
YIHAAA! Hell yeah! — The crew erupted with joy, and Peyota hollered:
Hey, we gotta celebrate dis whole damn gig! We acted our asses off — now it's party Whose place we crashin'? Mine, mine! My uncle's home tonight and he'll be thrilled to meet you all! — Vanna squealed, way too hyped. Honestly, it was a good call — bonding time boosts morale.
But Flora was already slipping into yet another role — that of a reluctant manager (besides being director, producer, therapist, human shield...). As Copy so gracefully put it:
When God handed out talents, he kept leadership for That's why He runs billions, and you can't handle a bunch of deranged grease- muppets.
Flora tried a different tactic. She made big sad puppy eyes and pleaded:
Guys, can we just call it a day? We filmed the first scene, yay us, but maybe let's shoot the next one tomorrow or the day after? I'll send you all the time and date in the group chat... Nah, my lil' cunnipie sugar bun, we wanna party and get the party started! — Campus I might not be a rapper, but I still dream of a party with Hollywood's next big Hee- hee- hee! A perfect reference to those mainstream showbiz — Vanna clapped her hands in delight. — You clearly keep up with celebrity gossip and tabloids. Oh, hell yeah, baby I see you like me. — The little creep stuck out his tongue and bounced excitedly. — That a yes? Or: No means Absolutely No and No way?
Talking in catchphrases now. — Manu chuckled, and then added his voice of reason. — Esteemed colleagues, I happen to have an excellent location for our first team It's right on the oceanfront, so we shall enjoy fresh air, a stunning view, and...
There gonna be booze, ma boy? — Peyota cut in, all
— The scientist nodded. — I wouldn't have extended the invitation otherwise.
Then what we standing here for?! — Campus — Liquor makes me chatty. You're — Evelyn cringed and waved the group toward the trailer. — So it's settled. We're goin' to Manu's.
Seeing her niece's scandalized face, she shrugged:
Sorry, I didn't back you up, but I've been hauling that damn heavy camera all day. You and I both need to chill. — Flora sighed in defeat, her eyes now downcast instead of furious — earning a dismissive snort from Copy.
This gloriously messed- up crew was met by an equally unhinged trailer, which, upon activating the GPS, let out the sound of a bubbling bong and greeted them with:
Waagwan, my bredren and Where we rollin' today? Evelyn turned from the driver's seat and asked Manu: Valid Drop us the exact address.
Venice That's our first stop... then we'll walk a bit.