Pepe and Chico are shopping at Rags to Riches, a secondhand store that sells used wardrobe from Film & Television productions.
“There’s an old joke,” starts Pepe. “Two Chicanos are shopping at a secondhand store and one of them says ‘Everything in here smells like asparagus piss.’ And the other says, ‘I know, and such small sizes.’”
“Am I the other vato in your little comedy routine?”
“It’s not a comedy, Chico. It’s a tragedy. These Hollywood hand-me-downs have been golden showered as fuck and I can’t buy any of ‘em ‘cause they only come in Oompa-Loompa sizes.”
“More like Baby Gap sizes.”
“¿Verdad? I’m flaquito and everything I try on makes me feel like Chris Farley doing fat guy in a little coat.”
“You ain’t that skinny, puto.”
“Gacho.”
“De veras. You haven’t worn clothes this small and this full of piss since you were in the 8th grade.”
“Why you gotta bring that up?”
“Because it was your unfortunate childhood, but at least it was your piss. I think these clothes are from porn sets where they do water sports all over each other.”
“Well, it is Hollywood.”
Chico gestures to a wardrobe section called Period Pieces. “Y que chingados son Period Pieces? Flicks about rucas getting their periods?”
Pepe shakes his head. “A period piece is a movie from a certain period.”
“All movies are from a certain period.”
“A certain period from the past.”
“So past pieces then?”
“Nel, pastel.”
“What about a movie that takes place in the future? Is that a future piece?”
“Mira, si te da dolor de cabeza, just say costume drama.”
“Costume drama?”
“Yeah, because period pieces from the past have costumes.”
“They don’t have costumes in the future? What about Star Wars? They got a lotta costumes in that movie, no?”
“The movie has to be historically accurate. Star Wars is not real.”
“You don’t know that yet. It’s in the future.”
“Star Wars takes place in the past, remember? A long, long time ago?”
“Oh, so Star Wars is a period piece? Good to know.”
“Hey look, speaking of Star Wars.” Pepe points at one of the random notes of trivia posted around the store and reads it aloud. “Annie Hall beat out Star Wars for Best Picture in 1978.”
“What the hell is Annie Hall?” asks Chico.
“That’s the movie I was referencing earlier. The classic Woody Allen rom-com.”
“Gadzooks! It sounds gay.”
“Yo,” Pepe looks around, “you can’t use the G word like that.”
“Gadzooks?”
“Well yeah, that too. But I meant the other G word.”
“Gay?”
“Yeah. Remember what Hilary Duff said? Think before you speak.”
“I thought saying gay was cool, as long as you didn’t drop the F bomb.”
“Fuck?”
“Fag.”
“Yo,” Pepe looks around, “you can’t say that.”
“That’s what I’m sayin’.”
Pepe lowers his voice. “That’s like saying the N word. Or like calling a little person the M word.”
“Marriage?”
“No.”
“Munchkin?”
“Well yeah, that too, but I’m talking about the other M word. The one that rhymes with widget.”
“Midget?”
“Yo,” Pepe looks around, “you can’t say that.”
“You practically said it yourself.”
“But I didn’t.”
“That’s retarded.”
“Yo,” Pepe looks around, “you can’t say that.”
“Say what?”
“The R word.”
“Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me?”
“That’s like calling a girl the C word.”
“Crazy?”
“Well yeah, that too, but you know… ‘see you next…’”
“…Twat?”
“Yo,” Pepe looks around. “You can’t– actually, I think that one’s okay.”
“A lesbian at work said that the other day. See you next twat. Wait, can I say lesbian?”
“I’m not sure. Use ‘the L word’ just in case.”
“Word?”
“Word.”
“What about trannies?”
“Yo,” Pepe looks around, “no more words, okay? Just keep shopping.”
“I would,” says Chico, “but these retarded midget rags are for gay cunts only.”
“Goddamn it, Chico!”
Chico stiffens. “Ay, don’t say G-D around me.”
“Jesus Christ.”
“Don’t say J-C, either. Say cheese and crackers, and instead of G-D say gadzooks.”
“What coño maricon says gadzooks como un retardado?!”
Chico stares at Pepe momentarily. “Oh, so in Spanish it’s okay?”
“Más o menos.”