Flamin' Hot

Call a Mexican "spicy," and you're playing with fire.

But spicy?

Yeah. See, that's how I got here.

To this moment.

Me, the most uneducated, successful vato you'll ever meet.

I served up my pride on a silver platter more than once along the way.

With my head held high, I worked my way through kitchens,

chicken coops, mechanic shops, breaking a sweat to make a dollar stretch.

Until I got here.

See, I'm the guy who helped bring the world

the most popular snack it's ever seen.

Here you go, ma'am.

Nah, not that fool.

Yeah, that fine-looking guapo right there,

looking like Sean Connery dipped in Abuelita chocolate?

That's me. El mero mero Mr. Richard Montañez.

See, but I didn't always schmooze with the big dogs. Nah.

See, I started at the bottom.

I mean the very bottom. In a grape vineyard in Guasti, California.

Yeah, that little travieso right there.

Actually, one of nine traviesos .

I mean, it was the '60s. We're Mexican. Of course my parents got down.

See, in my mind, I was the luckiest kid in the world

with a playground bigger than Disneyland.

Except my playground was everybody else's labor camp.

We lived together. We worked together.

And we survived together.

And by the time I was ten, I knew all I had in life was…

- My dad… -

…Vacho Montañez, short for Borracho , 'cause, well…

Richard. Richard.

School was no better.

Until I met Judy.

Let's just say us two chiquillos had a lot in common.

Hi.

Yeah.

Wish it was a bologna sandwich or-- or a chocolate.

Want some?

Ew! What is that? Gross.

It's a bean burrito.

Ha! Figures. Beans for a dirty beaner.

- -Let's go, guys.

Judy and I knew we stuck out like a couple of sore brown thumbs.

So we decided to stick together.

Burritos and bullies be damned.

Hey. There's the beaner. Ha.

-He's eating it again. Gross. Look. -Looks like it came out of a toilet.

Aw, I might throw up.

Oh, my God!

So good!

Delicioso.

Want some?

Ew, I'm not gonna eat that!

You eat it.

- -I dare you.

-Hey, this is pretty good. - I want some. Give me one.

Me first. Give me this one.

Twenty-five cents.

Let's go.

And just like that, I became the burrito hustler of Guasti Elementary.

Ever heard of a little thing called "supply and demand"?

- Whoa! I want one. -

Man, Taco Bell didn't introduce the world to burritos.

Me and my mama did.

Well, at least that's what it felt like to me.

I wasn't gonna let another day go by where Judy ate a sad sack lunch.

My Jude wanted chocolate, and she was gonna get it.

You better have money for that.

Where'd you steal that from, huh, boy?

Here's how this bronca could've gone.

Gee, mister!

I made that money on my newspaper route.

No funny business here. Just a kid with a girl to impress.

Well, look at this fine, upstanding young citizen here, huh?

-Wow! - Huh?

You go get that girl, son.

And you know what? Have some free candy on the house.

-Ooh. -

Ah, good-looking kid.

-Yeah, smart too. -Yeah.

- -

But I wasn't a white kid.

I was brown.

Get in.

And when the world treats you like a criminal, you become one.

Yeah! That's that firme pachuco steez everyone was wearing in the '70s.

I look good!

Now, before you start talking smack about

"why Mexicans always got to be gangsters," don't.

'Cause I didn't make this up. I lived it.

You see, back then,

la policía believed they had the right to beat your ass in the street

if your name was González or Martínez.

To be Chicano meant being invisible but still getting a beatdown.

And if la jura wasn't beating your ass,

you were getting shipped off to war to drop like flies.

I was just trying to survive.

And Judy?

She was surviving too.

And we were real good at surviving.

Together.

The Chicano Movement was in full effect,

but I wasn't paying attention.

I had family business to attend to.

You see, my homeys were the only family I knew, you dig?

We always had each other's backs.

Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey!

-Don't be pushing my man! -

- -

Get her, Judy!

Business was good.

And I was living the life.

But ignorance is bliss until one of you wakes up.

Rich, you gotta change now.

-For us and for the baby. -What you talking about?

-Check out this new ride I got us. -Yeah, exactly!

Like, where did this car come from?

- -

Rich, if I am sitting in a stolen car, I swear--

It's on a layaway plan.

-Are you kidding me right now? -

Why do you keep doing stuff like this all the time?

Look at me, son.

You're not worthless, Richard. Do you hear me?

You're not stupid.

You've got a brain between those ears, not just that dumb mustache.

You're not your father, but you will be if you don't change.

If you don't wake up, you're gonna end up in a cell or in the ground.

We can't lose you, Rich.

And I think you can do better.

Man, it's a miracle he didn't throw the book at me.

Hey, yo, Richie! Richie!

Hey, vato!

You ready to leave?

Let's go, homey!

Let's go!

You see, life is about choices.

Big ones.

It was time for me to choose something better.

But better doesn't always mean easier.

We can't fix that right now. We don't have time.

- This thing's stuck. -

This wire is corroded. What the hell?

Yes, amor. Are you hungry?

Amá. Amá, look.

I know, baby. I know.

Here. Chew.

You gotta hurry up, baby. We're gonna be late.

Yeah, yeah.

-How the heck… -Spit.

-Put your leg up. - I think I got it.

Okay, I think I got it.

All right, go. Go wait in the sala.

I fixed it.

- -

Baby, that sounded really bad.

Bad? Nah. No, the fridge is just taking a nap.

-The food is gonna spoil. Come on. -The food will be fine.

What are we gonna do?

-When are we gonna have time to fix it? -Hey.

-We can't afford another. -Look at me.

-What are we gonna do? -Breathe.

Three.

Two.

One.

- Breathe. -Breathe.

Someone's gonna say "yes" today.

Yeah.

I got this.

And I did have this.

- Judy even made me a fancy résumé. -Excuse me. Hey, man. How are you?

'Cause who's gonna say "no" to something that sounds so French?

-We don't got no work, bro. -Now, I can mow lawns.

I can hedge the bushes. I'll clean out the equipment.

-Whatever you need. -Sorry, man. My crew's full.

Here's my number. Just call me anytime if something opens up.

Excuse me. Do you know where they might be hiring?

My father and grandfather were farmworkers.

I was too when I was a kid so, I-- I remember well.

If you could just take my résumé.

- - No, thanks.

- - No, thank you.

Here's my résumé.

And I'll do anything. I'll wash dishes. Whatever.

Don't hold your breath.

-There you go. -