Rango

We are gathered here today to immortalise in song

the life and untimely death of a great legend.

-Rango. -So sit back, relax,

and enjoy your low-calorie popcorn and assorted confections

while we tell you the strange and bewildering tale of a hero

who has yet to enter his own story.

Crunchy, creamy, cookie, candy, cupcake.

Okay, everybody, let's take it from the top.

The stage is set, the night moist with apprehension.

Alone in her chamber, the princess prepares to take her own life.

"It is far better to nourish worms than to live without love."

She reaches for the poisoned chalice.

Meanwhile, the wicked Malvolio plots his ascension to the throne

while her ageing father lies gravely ill.

"Yes, I am gravely ill."

"Hark, who goes there?"

'Tis l, the much-anticipated hero,

returning to rescue his emotionally unstable maiden!

Unhand her, you jailers of virtue,

or taste the bitter sting of my vengeance!

The sting of my...

Dr Marx?

Dr Marx, I'm not getting anything from you.

People, we've talked about this. Acting is reacting.

Victor, you were wooden! There, I said it.

Mr Timms? You were good.

Perhaps a little too good.

What's that, Victor? My character's undefined? That's absurd.

I know who I am. I'm the guy, the protagonist, the hero.

Every story needs a hero. I mean, who else is better qualified

to bask in the adulation of his numerous companions?

The stage is waiting.

The audience thirsts for adventure.

Who am I?

I could be anyone.

I could be the sea cap'n returning from a mighty voyage

to reclaim his mechanical arm!

Or I could be the rogue anthropologist, battling pythons down in the Congo!

Down, Chongo, down!

And if you desire romance,

I will become the greatest lover the world has ever known!

I couldn't help but notice you noticing me noticing you.

You know, the womens find me uncomfortably good looking.

But you seem remarkably at ease.

Stop it. No, really.

Well, if you must. What are you doing?

That tickles. Are those real?

That's it! Conflict.

Victor, you were right. I have been undefined.

People, I've had an epiphany. The hero cannot exist in a vacuum!

What our story needs is an ironic, unexpected event

that will propel the hero into conflict!

Mr Timms?

That's right! You!

Don't be shy. Come on.

It's okay.

That's it, a little closer.

Good.

I won't bite you.

I need a little help here.

Are you okay?

I must get to the other side.

The other side? You mean, just now, that was you crossing the road?

That's why the...

Why'd you do that?

This is my quest. He waits for me.

What? Who?

The Spirit of the West, amigo. The one.

They say he rides an alabaster carriage with golden guardians to protect him.

What are you talking about?

Enlightenment. We are nothing without it.

Nothing? Your delusional quest just ruined my life!

I had an incredibly complex social network going!

Highly sophisticated friends! I was very popular!

Friends? I don't see no friends.

You are a very lonely lizard.

Look, I need water, hydration. My teeth are chapped.

I need lotion. I'm down to one layer of skin already.

Pretty soon, I'm going to start seeing my insides.

Not unlike what you've got going there.

Listen, I can't survive in the desert, okay?

I... I don't belong here.

That may be true, but here you are.

Now help me up and I will help you find what you seek.

-You will? -And perhaps more.

Quickly. I must get back to my quest.

-You mean you've done this before? -Yes. Many times.

Come, come. That's it, pull my finger.

The Spirit is waiting for me.

Okay, okay.

Okay. That's not going to work.

I must get to the other side.

Why don't you just wait until there are no cars coming?

It's not so easy as it looks.

What?

ls a metaphor.

There's another one!

I knew it.

You need a little help, amigo?

I think the metaphor broke my spleen.

The path to knowledge is fraught with consequence.

I'm just looking for the path to water.

If you want to find water, you must first find Dirt.

Dirt.

Destiny, she is kind to you.

Tomorrow is Wednesday. The water comes.

At noon, the townspeople gather for a mysterious ritual.

A town? You mean, with real people and everything? Where?

A day's journey. Follow your shadow.

You want me to just walk out into the desert?

That's the way.

Okay. So you're saying

there's a town, a real town, not a metaphor town.

Go on. It's okay.

Okay.

Well, then, I'm going.

I am leaving the road now!

I'm walking into the desert!

Alone!

We all have ourjourneys to make!

I will see you on the other side.

Welcome, amigo

To the land without end

The desert and death

Are the closest of friends

We sing of his courage

In magnificent song

But pay close attention

He won't be here long

As the birds pluck his eyes The sun bleaches his bones

see his entrails get scattered Watch him lose his cojones

Here in the Mojave Desert,

animals have had millions of years to adapt to the harsh environment.

But the lizard? He is going to die.

"Four score and seven years ago, our fathers..."

-Don't move. -What?

-Don't move! -Not moving.

Not moving.

Try to blend in.

Blend in? What do you mean?

Blend in.

What are you saying?

-Too late. -No, no. It's not too late!

I'm blending! I'm a blender!

Hey, calm down! What are you doing?

Stop moving!

Try not to look conspicuous.

-What are you doing? -I'm blending.

-Go blend somewhere else. -Don't distract me.

-No room at the inn. -It's an art, not a science.

-Find your own hiding place. -No, this is good.

Here she comes! You better run, Mojito!

-What? I thought you said, "Don't move." -That was before. Now, you run.

Oh, hey. Proboscis.

Testy.

Please, no, please. I have vertigo! My glands are swelling!

Please, no.

You! I'll kill you! You stupid lizard!

Get out of there. I'm going to strangle your huevos!

Big bird! Big bird!

No, wait! Come back! I was just kidding!

-Come on, we're friends, right? -I don't know you!

-Lizards, frogs... -Find your own hiding place!

-We're practically related! -No room at the inn!

-Come on, move over! -You're not my friend!

I'll let you kiss my sister!

You son of a...

Where are your friends now, amigo?

Get your slimy-webbed phalanges off my boots!

Sorry.

I got a bead on you, stranger. So you get up real slow

lessen you want to spend the better part

of the afternoon putting your face back together!

-No, ma'am, I don't. -Who are you?

-Who am I? -I'm asking the questions here!

Our town is drying up. We're in the middle of a drought.

Now someone's dumping water in the desert!

It's a puzzle of undeterminable size and dimension,

but I intend to find out what role you playing in all this.

-Role? -What are you involved in?

Well, I'm glad you asked.

I've got two one-acts, a mystery and a musical I've been gestating.

I got the words, I'm just working on the melody right now. It's like a...

I think it's gonna be a western.

A monkey got a cracker His mother was a slapper

She'll be coming 'round the mountain in the rain

You ain't from around here, are you?

I'm still working on it.

So, what's your name?

-Beans. -That's a funny kind of name.

What can I say? My daddy plumb loved baked beans.

Well, you're lucky he didn't plumb love asparagus.

What are you saying?

I mean, I enjoy a hearty puttanesca myself,

but I'm not sure that a child would appreciate the moniker.

My daddy was a great man, even if he did exhibit a proclivity for legumes.

-Spicy. -You're eating his ashes!

You carry his remains?

No, his ashes. He loved to smoke. They never found the body.

Well, I'm sure he had his reasons.