Now I wasn't interested in his drink. Nope, I was more interested in what he was carrying when he walked in. Some sort of a suitcase, kind of heavy. He sat that thing on the stool beside him as if it were his girl.
[to El Mariachi] Ya know, one of these days you're gonna lie down too hard on that bed and blow your brains out.
Pick-up guy: This reminds me of a joke. This guy, he comes into a bar, walks up to the Bartender and says, "Bartender, I got me a bet for you. I'm gonna bet you 300 dollars that I can piss into that glass over there and not spill a single solitary drop." The bartender says ... now one more time this glass is like a good ten feet away ... he says, "Now wait a minute. Let me get this straight. You're trying to tell me you're gonna bet me 300 dollars that YOU can piss standing over here waaay over there, into that glass, and not spill a single drop?" The guy looks up smiling and says, "That's right." The bartender says, "Young man you gotta bet!" The guy says, "Okay, here we go, here we go." He pulls out his thang. He's looking at the glass, man he's thinking about the glass, he's thinking about the glass, he thinks glass, he's thinking of the glass, think glass, thinking about his dick. Dick, glass. Dick, glass. Dick, glass. Be the glass. Dick, glass. Dick, glass. Dick, glass. And then SWOOOSH. He let's it rip! And he's ... he's pissin' all over the place, man! He's pissin' on the bar ... he's pissin' on the stools, on the floor, on the phone ... on the bartender ... He's pissing everywhere EXCEPT the fucking glass! Right. Okay, so, bartender, he's laughing his fucking ass off, he's 300 dollars richer. He's like, "Ha Ha Ha Ha." Piss drippin' off his face. "Ha Ha Ha Ha" He says, "You FUCKIN' idiot, man. You pissed in everything EXCEPT the glass!! You owe me 300 dollars puta." And he goes, "Excuse me, just one, one second." Goes in the back of the bar, and in the back there's a couple of guys playing pool. He walks over to them ... comes back to the bar and goes, "Here you go Mr. Bartender, three." And the bartender's like, "WHAT the fuck are you so happy about, you just lost 300 dollars you idiot?!" The guy says, "Well, you see those guys over there. I just bet them 500 dollars APIECE, that I could piss on your bar, piss on your floor, piss on your phone, and piss on YOU, and not only would you be not mad about it ... you'd be happy."
Short Bartender: Bad beer, bad service. Don't people know not to come in here?
Bucho: [customers enter a bar littered with corpses] Can't you people see that we are fucking closed?
El Mariachi: Maybe later. Where I'm going, I would just have to come straight back.
Carolina: Where are you going?
El Mariachi: The church...
Carolina: And what for?
El Mariachi: Confess my sins, I'm a sinner.
Carolina: I know.
Short Bartender: What do you want?
Short Bartender: All I got is piss-warm Chango.
Buscemi: That's my brand. You got a cleaner mug? This one's dirty.
Short Bartender: Fuck you man! That's the cleanest one I got!
Buscemi: Oh, this is damn good! Say, this is the best beer I've ever had. Actually, I'm just glad to be alive right now. I was up a few towns away... you know Saragosa? I was visiting a bar there, not unlike this one. They serve beer ... not quite as good as this, but close. And I saw something you wouldn't believe. I'm sitting there see, small table all by myself at this bar. It's full of real lowlifes. I mean, not like this place here. No, I mean bad. Like they were up to no good. Anyway, I'm by myself ... I like it that way. Meanwhile, things are going on ... under the table kinds of things. Not too obvious but, not too secret either. So, I'm sitting there. And in walks the biggest Mexican I have ever seen. Big as shit. Just walks right in like he owns the place. And nobody knew quite what to make of him ... or quite what to think. There he was and in he walked. He was dark too. I don't mean dark-skinned. No, this was different. It was if he was always walking in a shadow. I mean every step he took toward the light, just when you thought his face was about to be revealed ... it wasn't. It was as if the lights dimmed, just for him.
Buscemi: [after telling about a rogue gunslinger shooting up a bar] The stranger shot him, walked over to the bartender, paid, and left.
Short Bartender: So the bartender lived? [laughing] The bartender never gets killed!
Buscemi: But as the stranger neared the door...
[In a flashback, a Bartender pulls a shotgun. Stranger shoots bartender in the head]
Buscemi: No man, the bartender got it worse than anybody.
Tourist Girl: And another thing, your beer tastes like piss.
Short Bartender: We know.
Tavo: Because we piss in it!
Short Bartender: And that's not all!
Buscemi: Then I mentioned the guitar case. Suddenly they got really interested in who you were. So I laid the story down nice and thick.
El Mariachi: How thick?
Buscemi: Well, pretty thick.
Buscemi: What happens when he's dead?
El Mariachi: When Bucho is dead... it's over. He is the last one.
Buscemi: End of payback? An eye for an eye and all that crap? You finally going to be satisfied?
El Mariachi: I think so.
Buscemi: I hope so. Because I don't have the stomach for this anymore.
El Mariachi: You never did.
Buscemi: Well... neither did you.
Buscemi: Just try and keep it from turning into a fucking bloodbath, all right? Not like last time.
El Mariachi: That one wasn't my fault.
Buscemi: Well, of course not.
El Mariachi: No, they started it.
El Mariachi: Is there something to drink?
Short Bartender: You got something in the guitar case?
El Mariachi: Yeah...
Short Bartender: What?
El Mariachi: A guitar...
Short Bartender: ¡MATALO![kill him]
El Mariachi: Not yet.
El Mariachi: Bless me, Father, for I have just killed quite a few men.