www.dramavirtual.org: 09/01/2025

lunes, septiembre 29, 2025

PASTORELA ILEGAL

PASTORELA ILEGAL

Por Ben Gavarre

Este trabajo ha sido publicado para su difusión libre y abierta, aunque todos los derechos de propiedad intelectual están reservados. El uso público de esta obra requiere el permiso del autor y para obtener la autorización correspondiente comuníquese con bengavarre@gmail.com o gavarreunam@gmail.com (Reg. Prop. Int. Expte. Bandeja de entrada)

El Cruce Milagroso
Acto I: El Anuncio Divino
Escena 1: ¿Qué Onda, Raza?
Ambientación: Un callejón polvoriento al lado de una obra negra. Botes de pintura vacíos, una lámpara amarilla que parpadea como ojo de ebrio, y tarimas. Huele a noche fresca y a tacos de canasta.
Personajes:
EL GÓMEZ: El líder. Cínico, pero con más corazón que un caldo Tlalpeño. Viste ropa de trabajo.
EL VILLANAZUL ("El Glotón"): El tranquilo. Gordo, solo piensa en la tragadera (morfi) y echa carrilla.
EL RAMÍREZ ("El Miedoso"): Ve a la Migra hasta en la sopa de fideo. Siempre espera el peor castigo.
EL ÁNGEL ENMASCARADO: Un luchador divino con máscara plateada y alas de utilería, más mamado que un fisicoculturista de Jalisco.
**(El telón se abre. GÓMEZ, RAMÍREZ y VILLANAZUL están sentados en cubetas volteadas, tomando café. El ambiente es chill, nomás de homies.)
(Un cometa de utilería cruza el cielo.)
GÓMEZ:** ¡A la, madre!... ¿Qué fue ese flamazo, carnales? Parecía que el cielo estaba tomando selfies, o que la Virgen se echó un gallo.
VILLANAZUL: (Emocionado) ¡No manches, Gómez! ¡A lo mejor es la inauguración de un buffet de birria! ¡Ojalá sea barra libre de tamales! ¡Ya se me hizo agua la boca!
RAMÍREZ: (Asustado) Ay no, manito... Yo le apuesto que es la Migra con un dron nuevo. ¡Es el helicóptero-migra viniendo por nuestros pellejos!
**(De repente, con un silbido fuerte y un suave ¡TLAX!, EL ÁNGEL ENMASCARADO aterriza al centro del escenario en pose de lucha libre. Los pastores saltan, tirando el café.)
ÁNGEL:** (Con voz de anunciador de lucha libre) ¡Qué tranza, chamacos! ¡Qué rollo, pastores de la banqueta! ¡Vengo en misión divina desde la Arena Celestial!
GÓMEZ: ¡No chingues! ¡Este vato se cayó del cielo, literal! ¿Estás bien, champ? ¿No te golpeaste el coco? ¿Traes tus papeles o te van a botar?
ÁNGEL: ¡Mi misión es sagrada y mi técnica, impecable! ¡Soy El Ángel Enmascarado! ¡Y vengo a anunciarles que ha nacido El Niño Milagro de Aztlán! ¡El Rey del barrio!
VILLANAZUL: ¿El Milagro? ¿O sea que ya empezó la cena y nos cepillaron?
ÁNGEL: (Lo mira severo por los orificios de la máscara) ¡No, pecador tragón! El Niño Santo está en un humilde taller mecánico, por la esquina de la Fe y la Esperanza... ¡Vayan a adorarlo! ... (Viendo su duda) Y sí, sí, sí... Habrá atole y tamalitos, pero... ¡muévanse, que se hace tarde!
RAMÍREZ: ¡Pero allá afuera anda el diablo "Patas de Naranja" con toda la Migra!
GÓMEZ: A estas horas no anda nadie, wey, ni los perros. ¿Qué? ¿Vamos a ir en burro o qué tragedia?
ÁNGEL: ¡Nada de eso! ¡Nos vamos en mi Nube Voladora 5.0!
(El Ángel apunta hacia arriba. Una nube de cartón, pintada de plata y con foquitos de Navidad, es bajada con cables.)
GÓMEZ: Pues que vaya el Villanazul, ¡ya se anda muriendo por el recalentado! Que nos aparte lugar.
VILLANAZUL: ¡Ni madres! Apenas y aguanta ese armatoste a este ángel de gimnasio.
ÁNGEL: Si uno de ustedes se quiere subir... ¡no me voy a estar pelando! Pero cuidado con las alas, recién salidas de la tintorería de Tijuana.
GÓMEZ: Por mi parte, paso sin ver.
VILLANAZUL: Yo no creo que me aguante... y menos con este luchador de circo... ¡A ver si no me aplica la quebradora!
ÁNGEL: Si no quieren, mejor para mí, pero les juro que nos aguanta a todos, nomás hay que aguantarse un pedito... Así, miren...
RAMÍREZ: No, no, no, gracias, yo no me subo a eso ni con visa de turista.
GÓMEZ: Órale pues, Don Ángel, usted váyase de volada. Allá nos topamos.
ÁNGEL: ¡Sale y vale! Ahí los veo. **¡Aguas con el reten!
(El Ángel se sube a la nube y desaparece por los tirantes.)
VILLANAZUL: ¡No te acabes todos los tamales!
GÓMEZ:** Cállate, Villanazul, andas cagando fuera del testal.
VILLANAZUL: ¡Oye, ya! Respeta a tus mayores.
RAMÍREZ: ¿Y si nos agarramos de la mano? A lo mejor así nos da menos canguelo.
GÓMEZ: Sí, y de paso nos damos unos besitos de piquito.
VILLANAZUL: Cállense los dos, par de pendejos.
GÓMEZ: ¡Mira quién habla! ¡Vámonos a la brava, como los indocumentados que somos!
(Fin de la escena.)
Escena 2: Las Comadres al Ataque
Ambientación: La banqueta de una estética llamada "Mary's Glamour y Fajitas". Al fondo, un puesto de pupusas o gorditas.
Personajes:
GORIZIA: Práctica y directa. No le da vueltas al tamal.
LA CIELITO LINDE: La coqueta y soñadora. Siempre buscando novio.
CAROLUNA DEL NORTE: La más "gringa" y politizada. Habla Spanglish y tiene opinión para todo.
**(Gorizia, Cielito Linde y Caroluna están comiendo gorditas. La Estrella Fugaz vuelve a pasar.)
GORIZIA:** ¡Órale, comadres! ¿Vieron ese estrellón? Parecía la luz de un tráiler. Dicen que es por un niño que nació por aquí cerca. ¡Qué chido! ¡Un niño que ya le ganó al karma!
LA CIELITO LINDE: ¡Ay Dios mío, qué emoción, comadre! ¡Un bebé! Pues vamos a verlo, ¿no? Pero espérate, no podemos llegar **con el chongo caído**. Una manita de gato, ya sabes, para la foto con el querubín.
CAROLUNA: ¡Claro! ¡Hay que ir a dar el apoyo moral! ¡Necesitamos mostrar solidaridad de raza! ¿Pero dónde es la fiesta?
LA CIELITO LINDE: Pues la estrella se fue por allá, como a tres millas. Por donde estaba el taller de mi primo Rodríguez, el que **arreglaba motos y papeles por fuera.
CAROLUNA:** ¡Ay, yo sé dónde! Ese vato solo abre cuando le cae un jale de los buenos. Oh my God! ¡No me vean así! ¿Qué les pasa? ¿Qué dije?
GORIZIA: Lo dijiste todo... el chiste y el albur. Y justo ahí va a nacer el Niño Dios.
LA CIELITO LINDE: ¡Ya nació, comadre! Por eso vamos. ¿Qué, querías ver el parto o qué te pasa?
CAROLUNA: Bueno, vámonos, pero con la frente en alto, bien empoderadas. No queremos que nos agarre La Migra. Con el Hombre Naranja y sus locuras, ya saben que andan cazando lo que huela a tortilla.
GORIZIA: Estarás hablando por ti.
CAROLUNA: ¡Ay, mira a esta cabrona! Pues tú todavía hueles a nopal, no se te quita lo prieto.
GORIZIA: ¡Estúpida! ¡Estarás pendeja!
LA CIELITO LINDE: ¡Ya, ya, paren la bronca! ¡Párale, ustedes dos! Vamos a visitar al Santo que nos va a traer la paz y la mica. Dejen de pelear, ya bastante tenemos con el Maligno y sus esbirros.
GORIZIA: Sí, ese Patas de Naranja solo nos quiere ver la cara de pendejas.
CAROLUNA: Hay que llevar un cartel de la Virgencita para que nos proteja. Y luego le pedimos al Niño Milagro que nos arregle los papeles. Ya saben, una ayudadita de diosito.
GORIZIA y LA CIELITO LINDE: ¡Así mero! ¡Yo jalo! **¡Vámonos a lo que truje, chencha!
Escena 3: ¡Alto, en Nombre de la Ley!
Ambientación: Un camino de terracería. Los pastores y pastoras se encuentran.
Personajes:
Los tres pastores y tres pastoras.
CAPITÁN GRINGO TRUMPETAS ("El Deportador"): Un güero con botas vaqueras y chaleco de la bandera de EE. UU. Habla un español más mocho que un árbol talado.
AGENTE MUSKIS ("El Calvo"):** Un pelón de cara agria, se cree más listo que un burro en la escuela.
**EL DIABLITO COYOTE ("El Muro"): Un diablito vestido de charro negro con cuernos y cola. Un coyote corrupto que trabaja para la Migra.
EL VENEZOLANO:** Un señor con su carrito de arepas.
**(Los dos grupos de pastores se han encontrado y se están saludando cuando, de repente, el Capitán Trompetas y sus gorilas saltan de los arbustos.)
CAPITÁN GRINGO:** ¡Alto ahí, you people! ¡Deténgase ahí, bola de ilegales! ¡Sus papeles, ándale, right now!
VILLANAZUL: ¡¿Cuál es tu pedo, güey?! ¡Si somos de aquí! ¡Somos del barrio!
CAROLUNA: ¡Sí! ¡Esta es nuestra tierra! **¡Tú eres el alien!
MUSKIS:** ¡No me van a chingar con su Spanglish de segunda! ¡Todos van a ser deportados a Guatemala!
RAMÍREZ: ¡Ay, ya valimos gorro!
LA CIELITO LINDE: ¡Esto es una injusticia! ¡Una violación a nuestros derechos humanos!
DIABLITO COYOTE: ¡Por cruzados les pasa esto! ¡La autoridad (señala a Trompetas) lo ordena! ¡Yo les cobré bien caro y se dejaron agarrar!
VILLANAZUL: ¡Pero si un Ángel nos habló! ¡Uno enmascarado!
CAPITÁN GRINGO: Worales! ¡Ustedes drink mucho tequila! Ahora ven angelitos voladores. Very funny.
DIABLITO COYOTE: (A los pastores) ¿Ven? ¡Son pecadores! ¡Por eso me los llevo al **infierno de las tortillas caducadas!
CAPITÁN GRINGO:** ¡I am Lucifer! ¡El mero mero de ICE! ¡Y me los llevo por todos sus pecados!
RAMÍREZ: ¡No me toques! ¡Yo soy un buen trabajador!
VILLANAZUL: ¿A tu edad? ¡No te creo nada!
(En el caos, el Agente Muskis comienza a poner esposas al azar.)
GORIZIA: ¡Oye, no, espérate! ¡Yo soy dueña de una estética! ¡Tengo hijos ciudadanos!
MUSKIS: ¡Silence! ¡Todo el que tenga acento raro va para el Congo Belga! ¡Necesitan comida para cocodrilos allá!
VENEZOLANO: (Abrazando sus arepas) ¡Ay no, Chamo, no! ¡Yo solo quería vender mis arepitas en paz! ¡Yo tengo TPS! ¡Yo no quiero ir a ningún Congo!
CAPITÁN GRINGO: ¡Silence! ¡Ustedes son todos latinos pecadores! ¡Y por eso tienen bad fortune! ¡Por comer perros y gatos! ¡To the cage! ¡Los cocodrilos del Río Grande se los van a comer! ¡Don't come to my country!
GÓMEZ: ¡El Ángel Enmascarado nos va a defender!
CAROLUNA: ¡El Niño Dios nos va a salvar! ¡Ya verás, diablos racistas!
DIABLITO COYOTE: (Burlándose) Ay sí, "el niño dios". ¡Se van a ir al infierno por no traer visa!
RAMÍREZ: (Llorando) ¡No! ¡Yo no quiero ir al Congo Belga! ¡Le tengo miedo a los cocodrilos!
(El Capitán y sus agentes se llevan arrastrando al Venezolano, a Ramírez y a Caroluna, mientras que los pastores que se zafaron corren y se esconden.)
(Fin de la escena.)
Acto II: El Nacimiento y la Fiesta
Escena 1: Los Tres Reyes Magos Mojados
**(Melchor, Gaspar y Baltazar llegan en un Impala 64 lowrider rebotando.)
Diálogos en Caló:
MELCHOR:** ¡A ver, checa! ¡Ese es el cantón! ¡Ese es el spot, homey!
GASPAR: ¡Órale! Se ve humilde el lugar, pero trae buenas vibras, man.
BALTAZAR: ¡Éntrale y vamos a presentarle los respetos al Niño Milagro! Le traje un bling-bling de oro con la Virgencita para que lo proteja de los maloras.
MELCHOR: Yo le traje unos tenis Nike edición especial, "Air Jesús 1s," para que corra con estilo y no lo agarre la Migra.
GASPAR: Y yo, para que nunca le falte sabor en su vida, ¡una Valentina etiqueta negra, coleccionable, tamaño familiar!
Escena 2: El Niño Fronterizo y La Revancha Celestial
Ambientación: El Nacimiento en un taller mecánico. Luces de Navidad, papel picado y una lona puesta como ring de lucha. Al fondo, un altavoz conectado a un teléfono tocando cumbia navideña.
JOSÉ BROWNIE JUNIOR: (Vestido como promotor de lucha, con ropa de mecánico) ¡Pásele, pásele, mi Raza! Bienvenidos, hay lugar para todos. Aquí todo se arma. Gracias por visitar al Niño, pero antes, tenemos una gran revancha. ¡Bienvenidos, Banda! ¡Están en su humilde taller!
MARICARE: (Con el cabello crepé y mucho maquillaje) “Ay, qué gusto que vinieron! Después de la Revancha pueden saludar a mi hijo, El Niño Dios de la Frontera, you know. Luego les ofrezco ponche y tamalitos."
**(El "Niño Milagro" es un muñeco grande, de rosca de Reyes, con un sombrerito chiquito.)
(Entran todos: Los pastores/as (Ramírez, el Venezolano y Caroluna son liberados), CAPITÁN TRUMPETAS, AGENTE MUSKIS, DIABLITO COYOTE y EL ÁNGEL ENMASCARADO.)
(El Capitán Trompetas entra empujando a los pastores.)
CAPITÁN GRINGO:** ¡This is the end! ¡Se portan bien o los mando en un Uber directo al inframundo de inmigración!
DIABLITO COYOTE: ¡Sí, sí! ¡Já, já! ¡Ahora sí los va a cargar el payaso infernal! ¡Yo manejo el check-in!
(Suena música de lucha libre. EL ÁNGEL ENMASCARADO baja con luces estroboscópicas y humo.)
ÁNGEL: (Con voz de rudo) ¡¿Qué te pasa, Gringo Trompetas?! ¡Te metiste con mi raza! ¡Y eso... no se perdona en este esquinero celestial!
CAPITÁN GRINGO: (Poniéndose en pose) ¡Vente, angelito de esteroides! ¡Let’s see what you got, piñata boy!
MUSKIS: (Gritando como réferi) ¡Toca la campana! **¡Que empiece la santa trifulca!
PELEA CÓMICA Y SIMBÓLICA
(La pelea comienza con movimientos ridículos: José Brownie Junior grita el nombre de cada llave: "El Abrazo Celestial," "El Misericordia-plex," "El Clavado del Arcángel 3000.")
DIABLITO COYOTE:** (Gritando desde la orilla) ¡Pégale en las alas! ¡Ese es su punto débil! ¡Rómpele el chongo!
**(El Ángel hace un backflip y golpea al Diablito Coyote, sacándolo rodando del escenario.)
VILLANAZUL:** ¡Eso, mano! ¡Dale con la Redención Invertida!
RAMÍREZ: ¡Aplícale el Martillo de Estatus Legal!
JOSÉ BROWNIE JUNIOR: ¡La Llave de la Misericordia nunca falla!
(Finalmente, el Ángel aplica la "Llave de la Misericordia" y pone al Capitán de rodillas.)
ÁNGEL: (Triunfante) **¡La clemencia gana, no por debilucha... sino por justiciera! Ahora te vas a comer un tamalito.
CAPITÁN GRINGO:** (Jadeando, conmovido) Eso... I don't think so… I think... Yo creo... ¡No me gustan los tamales! ¡I don't want to eat un tamalito, por favor!
JOSÉ BROWNIE & MARICARE: ¿Cómo que no? ¡Ahora te lo empujas!
(Le acercan un tamal. Él lo muerde. Se le iluminan los ojos.)
CAPITÁN GRINGO: Holy guacamole... ¡Esto es mejor que el pavo de Thanksgiving! ¡Forgive me, compas! Esto es lo más best que he tasted en mi fucking life.
CONVERSIÓN Y FIESTA
MUSKIS: ¡Yo también jalo! ¡Yo también quiero un tamalito y un ponche de guayaba! ¡A la chingada el odio! ¡Que viva la cumbia, el Ángel Enmascarado y el Niño Dios!
ÁNGEL: Wow... este tamal... está really, really delicious! Maybe... maybe yo estaba wrong! Maybe... ¿podemos ser amigos?
GÓMEZ: (Al Ángel) ¡Y tú por qué hablas en Spanglish, Ángel celestial!
ÁNGEL: Oh, it's my normal language, you know. Yo siempre ando pensando en españinglish.
RAMÍREZ: ¿Espanglish, verdad?... (Pausa. Todos voltean a verlo) ¿QUÉ, QUÉ DIJE? ¡NO ME VEAN ASÍ!
VILLANAZUL: ¡A comer y a tragar tamales... y a echar desmadre como buenos hermanos!
CAROLUNA: ¡Así se habla! **¡Hay que hacer puentes, no muros!
LA CIELITO LINDE:** ¡Alabado sea el Niño de la Frontera!
(Comienza la cumbia, todos bailan. Una Piñata es bajada. Los Reyes Magos entran aventando dulces. Levantan al Niño y le hacen romper la piñata.)
Final con Coro (todos)
**TODOS (cantando con ritmo guapachoso):
El amor no tiene visa, ni frontera, ni color,
Somos peregrinos con el mismo sabor.
Con cumbia y con fe, ganamos al mal,
¡Y el Niño Fronterizo nos vino a bendecir y a arreglar!
FIN**

What’s Up, Raza? ILEGAL PASTORELA

What’s Up, Raza? ILLEGAL PASTORELA.

2026

® BENJAMIN GAVARRE SILVA

BENGAVARRE@GMAIL.COM

The Miraculous Crossing.

Act I: The Divine Announcement

Scene 1: What’s Up, Raza?

Setting: A dusty alleyway next to an unfinished construction site. Empty paint buckets, a yellow streetlamp flickering like a hopeless drunkard’s eye, and wooden pallets. It smells like a crisp night and basket tacos (tacos de canasta). In the background, the silhouette of the border wall can be seen.

Characters:

GÓMEZ: The leader. Cynical, but with a bigger heart than a hot bowl of caldo Tlalpeño. Wears work clothes.
VILLANAZUL ("The Glutton"): The easygoing one. Heavy-set, only thinks about food (la pancita), and sports a visible belly. Loves throwing double-entendre roasts (albures) or just teasing the guys.
RAMÍREZ ("The Fearful"): Sees the Border Patrol and the fucking ICE even in his tortilla soup. Paranoid even when he pees.
THE MASKED ANGEL: A divine luchador with a silver mask and prop wings. More ripped than a northern Mexican bodybuilder.

(The curtain rises. GÓMEZ, RAMÍREZ, and VILLANAZUL are sitting on overturned buckets, drinking black coffee. The vibe is like homies hanging out at brunch.)

(A prop comet with bright LED lights streaks across the sky, making a loud short-circuit zapping sound.)

GÓMEZ: ¡A la madre!... What the hell was that flash, carnal? It’s like the sky started taking selfies with the flash on, or the Virgin Mary is about to show up with a whole bunch of high beams.

VILLANAZUL: (Excited, wiping his mouth) No way, Gómez! Maybe it’s a sign for a 24/7 Chilango buffet nearby! I want Oaxaqueño tamales and sweet ones too! Man, my hunger boat is taking on water!

RAMÍREZ: (Trembling, clutching his work boot) Oh no, manito... I bet you it’s ICE testing their new AI-powered spy satellite. It’s a drone designed to deliver ass-kickings and deportations! They’re gonna scan us all the way down to our literal retinas!

(Suddenly, with a loud firework whistle and a soft ¡TLAX!, THE MASKED ANGEL lands in the center of the stage in a classic superhero/luchador pose. The shepherds jump up, spilling their coffee and nearly flipping the buckets.)

ANGEL: (In a booming, dramatic Arena México announcer voice, flexing like a bodybuilder) ¡Qué tranza, Raza! What's the pex, sidewalk shepherds without a grill! I come on a divine mission, direct and non-stop from the Celestial Arena, bypassing customs entirely!

GÓMEZ: No sh*t! This dude literally fell from the sky! You okay, putín? Did you hit your noggin on the high-voltage power lines? You got your papers or are they gonna boot you back to the other side?

ANGEL: My mission is sacred and my rope-flying technique is flawless! I am The Masked Angel! The defender of good! And I am here to announce that the beautiful Baby Diosito has been born! The true king of the neighborhood, the dopest heir of all!

VILLANAZUL: Wait, hadn't he been born already? Well, if he's being born again, are we eating chorizo? And tamales too... And he's in a Bethlehem manager, right? 'Cause we only got over here through Susano's tunnel hole.

ANGEL: (Stares severely at him through the eyeholes of his mask) Don't even say that, you sinner! The Holy Child is in a humble mechanic shop, right around the corner of Faith and Hope... right behind the Seven-Eleven. Go worship him before the place gets packed with influencers making TikToks! ... (Seeing them hesitate) And yes, yes, yes... there will be champurrado atole, banana-leaf tamales, sweet bread, and only Pecsi, sorry... so get moving, before the tamale gets cold!

RAMÍREZ: Hey, güerito, but the "Orange-Legged" devil is out there running wild with the mean Border Patrol! They wanna deport even the Chihuahuas!

GÓMEZ: Nobody is out at this hour, wey. The Border Patrol is having dinner at Denny's. What? Are we gonna walk there or ride a pack donkey? What a tragedy.

ANGEL: None of that! For the humble raza, there is luxury transport! We’re riding in my Flying Cloud 5.0!

(The Angel points to the ceiling. A crude cardboard cloud, painted bright silver and adorned with twinkling Christmas lights, is slowly lowered by highly visible steel cables.)

GÓMEZ: Well, let Villanazul get on first, he’s already fainting from a sugar crash! Let him go ahead and save us three green tamales and two sweet ones.

VILLANAZUL: No fucking way! This cardboard thing can barely hold this gabacho-gym angel. If I get on, we're both coming down... to the floor. No pun intended.

ANGEL: If any of you wants to ride shotgun... ¡órale!, I'm not gonna beg you! But watch out for the wings—they're imported goose down, fresh from the dry cleaners in Tijuana.

GÓMEZ: As for me, I'll pass. I prefer my own two feet.

VILLANAZUL: I don't think this thing has third-party insurance... and less with this carnival wrestler... What if he applies a quebradora backbreaker to me mid-flight!

ANGEL: If you guys are getting cold feet, better for me. Less weight for the engine. I swear it holds, you just gotta suck in your gut... Like this, look... (Holds his breath in a dramatic pose).

RAMÍREZ: No, no, no, thank you. I'm not getting on that thing even if they hand me a Green Card.

GÓMEZ: Alright then, Don Ángel, fly out of here before you run into Trump. Allá nos vidrios... see ya over there.

ANGEL: ¡Sale y vale! Alright then! See you at the corner turn. Watch out for the mean güeros!

(The Angel climbs onto the cardboard cloud with great difficulty. It wobbles comically as he disappears upward into the stage rafters.)

VILLANAZUL: Don't eat everything, big guy!

GÓMEZ: Shut up, Villanazul, you're always screwing things up when it comes to food.

VILLANAZUL: Hey, show some respect, I'm just big-boned.

GÓMEZ: Big-boned? More like big-appetite, vato.

RAMÍREZ: Hey Raza... what if we hold hands? I mean, that way we go safer, as a pack.

GÓMEZ: Yeah, and why don't we give each other little kisses while we're at it, huh? Don't be a sissy!

VILLANAZUL: Shut up, both of you, you pair of idiots. With all your yelling, you’re gonna call the dogs.

GÓMEZ: Look at Mr. Discreet over here! Let's just go for it, under the radar, every man for his own skin, and may the Virgin protect us!

VILLANAZUL: And the Baby Jesus too.

RAMÍREZ: That's what I'm saying.

(They run off comically in a single file line. End of scene.)

Scene 2: The Comadres Attack

Setting: The sidewalk outside a beauty salon named "Miss Glamour & Fajitas" (Yes, We Have Tacos). In the background, a half-burnt-out neon sign and a street food stand with a tarp that reads: "Huaraches y Gorditas 'La Esperanza'".

Characters:

GORIZIA: Practical, tough, and direct. Gets straight to the point.
LA CIELITO LINDE: The flirty, dreamy, neighborhood fitness girl. Always looking for a husband with papers.
CAROLUNA DEL NORTE: The most "gringoified" and political one. Speaks broken Spanglish, uses university sociology terms, and has an opinion on everything.

(Gorizia, Cielito Linde, and Caroluna are standing by a high table eating quesadillas and drinking Pepsi. The LED Shooting Star streaks across the sky again, making a "¡Fiuuuu uuu!" sound.)

GORIZIA: ¡Órale, comadres! Did you see that mega truck of a light? Looked like one of those missiles from that crazy rocket guy. They’re saying in the group chat it’s for a baby born just around the corner. How cool!

LA CIELITO LINDE: Oh my God, what an excitement, comadre! A little cholito! Let's go see him on foot, right? But let's fix ourselves up first—I am not showing up with messy hair and droopy eyelashes. A quick touch-up, you know, to look good on the Live stream.

CAROLUNA: ¡Ay, agrí!... Let's go powder our noses!

LA CIELITO LINDE: The star went up that way, like two kilometers I’d say. Near my cousin El Rana’s workshop.

CAROLUNA: Oh, I know your cousin! That damn Rana only opens the garage when he gets stolen cars to tune up... Oh my God!... (She realizes the others are glaring at her) What are you looking at? Why are you staring at me like I have a cactus growing on my forehead? What did I say?

GORIZIA: Better not repeat it so he doesn't get busted, and it won't even be by ICE.

CAROLUNA: The point is, right there, in that sacred workshop, the Baby God is going to be born.

LA CIELITO LINDE: He's already born, you stubborn comadre! That's why the star is blinking. What, did you want them to send you a live location link or what’s wrong with you?

CAROLUNA: Well, whatever, let's go—totally empowered, perfumed, and deconstructed. We don't want that filthy Orange Man catching us... he’s hunting down anything that smells like a corn tortilla.

GORIZIA: Speak for yourself, you've got the face of a Oaxacan indigenous idol.

CAROLUNA: Oh, look at this cabrona! Well, you smell like stale chilaquiles, and that dark skin ain't coming off even with Zote soap.

GORIZIA: Stupid! You must be an idiot, I'm light-skinned brunette!

LA CIELITO LINDE: Alright, alright, stop the catfight, you b*tches, or your mascara is gonna run! We are going to visit the Holy Child who is going to bring us peace, immigration reform, and green cards for everyone. Stop fighting, we already have enough with the Evil One in the giant tie and his green-uniformed slaves.

GORIZIA: Yeah, that Corn-Stalk-Hair guy just wants to see us as fools or as aliens—that’s what the jerk said. He actually looks like a giant ET himself. Have you seen him dance like that with absolutely no rhythm? It’s embarrassing.

CAROLUNA: We need to carry a banner of the Virgin of Guadalupe to protect us from ICE. And then we'll ask the Miracle Child to speed up our appointment on the CBP One app. You know, a little divine intervention.

GORIZIA and LA CIELITO LINDE: Heck yeah! I’m in! Let's get to business before they block the crossing!

(They walk off in a hurry, fixing their hair. End of scene.)

Scene 3: Stop, in the Name of the Law!

Setting: A dark dirt road with prop cardboard cacti. The two groups (shepherds and comadres) cross paths in the center of the stage.

Characters:

The three shepherds and three comadres.
CAPTAIN GRINGO TRUMPETAS ("The Deporter"): A white guy with an exaggerated orange wig, flamboyant cowboy boots, a red bow tie, and a giant vest featuring the US flag. Speaks broken, loud, chewed-up Spanish.
AGENT MUSKIS ("The AI Baldy"): A bald guy with futuristic sunglasses and a black leather jacket. Acts like a robot obsessed with technology, microchips, and social media.
EL DIABLITO COYOTE ("The Wall"): A little devil dressed in a black sequined charro outfit, shiny red horns, and a tail. He is the rat middleman who works for the Border Patrol.
THE VENEZOLANO: A charismatic man wearing a Venezuela baseball cap, pulling a pimped-out supermarket cart from which he sells his arepas.

(The shepherds and the comadres meet in the center, giving each other loud hugs and greetings: "What’s up, comanchi?", "What’s the pex, Gómitas?", when suddenly, from behind the cardboard cacti, Captain Trumpetas, Muskis, and the Diablito jump out, making siren noises with their mouths: "Wiuuu wiuuu!").

CAPTAIN GRINGO: Stop right there, you illegal foking people! ¡Deténganse right there, bola de alienbrownis! Your papers, your micas, ándale, right now or I send you to Guantanomou!

VILLANAZUL: What is your fucking problem, güey?! I was born in San Antonio! We're from the neighborhood, we pay extra taxes!

CAROLUNA: Yes! This is our land! You guys arrived after the Mayflower! You're the alien with that washed-out corn-husk hair!

MUSKIS: (Making computer noises with his mouth and moving his hands like a robot) System error! You're not gonna screw with me with your second-class Spanglish! My facial recognition algorithm says all of you are going to be deported on a SpaceX rocket straight to ¡Chinghue a su madre!

RAMÍREZ: Oh, I told you guys! We are totally screwed! The infernal Chupacabras has found us!

LA CIELITO LINDE: This is a gender injustice and a flagrant violation of our human rights! I am going to tag you on Twitter, and even on Threads!

DIABLITO COYOTE: (Laughing malevolently, wagging his devil tail) Hahaha! You guys are too foolish! Orange Copete is the Master! I charged each of you three thousand dollars to get you through the mountain hole and you let yourselves get caught on the very first corner! What a bunch of losers!

VILLANAZUL: That’s not fair! An Angel with a silver mask spoke to us! He invited us to see the little Baby Jesus!

CAPTAIN GRINGO: Worales! You guys smoke much weed! Now you see wrestling angels. Very funny, very bad, very malo. I am the Good Guy here, i'm good people, you are nou.

DIABLITO COYOTE: (To the shepherds, stirring the pot) Undocumented sinners! You're clogging up our America. That's why I'm taking you to hell! You're going to suffer the worst punishment!

CAPTAIN GRINGO: I am the King of ICE! The grand boss! I put you all in the cage like monkeys who eat dogs and cats!

RAMÍREZ: Don't touch me with your cold hands, Muskis! I am a good person, I paint houses real nice, I fix gardens, and I harvest the grapes you guys stuff your faces with!

VILLANAZUL: Don't even waste your breath, Ramírez. You're just tiring yourself out and they don't give a shit!

(In the middle of the shouting and comical confusion, Agent Muskis starts putting neon plastic handcuffs on people at random while making laser gun sounds: "Piu, piu!").

GORIZIA: Hey, buddy, hold on! I am the legitimate owner of a beauty salon that makes white ladies look gorgeous! I have three citizen kids who play baseball!

MUSKIS: Silence, human! Anyone with a weird accent or who smells like a tacou goes to the Congo packed like sardines in a plane! They need crocodile food over there!

VENEZOLANO: (Desperately hugging his arepa cart) Oh no, Chamo, please, by the Virgin of Coromoto, no! I only wanted to sell my reina pepiada arepas in peace! I have my TPS approved by the app! I don't want to go to any Congo to be eaten by crocodiles!

CAPTAIN GRINGO: Silence, arepa-man! You are all suspicious Latinos! And that’s why you have bad fortune! According to my Facebook sources, you guys eat good people's pets! To the cage! The Rio Grande lizards are waiting for you for dinner! Don't come to my country!

GÓMEZ: The Masked Angel is gonna fly down with his flying chair and defend us!

CAROLUNA: Just you wait, you racist devils with a megalomania complex!!! Fourth-class narcissists! The Baby God is gonna save us!

DIABLITO COYOTE: (Mocking in a squeaky voice) Oh yeah, "the baby god." You're going to immigration purgatory for not having your visa tattooed on your forehead!

RAMÍREZ: (Crying dramatically on his knees) Nooo! I don't want to go to the Congo! I don't want to be eaten!

(Captain Trumpetas and Muskis comically drag away the Venezolano, Ramírez, and Caroluna, who shout slogans, while the shepherds and comadres who managed to break free run around in a panic to hide behind the couches and pallets.)

(End of scene.)

Acto II: The Birth and the Fiesta

Scene 1: The Three Wetback Wise Men

Setting: The entrance to the mechanic shop. The hydraulic sound of a lowrider car bouncing is heard. Melchor, Gaspar, and Baltazar enter walking with a heavy, leaned-back stride, mimicking getting out of a dropped ride. Dressed in plaid flannel shirts buttoned all the way to the top (classic cholo style), bandanas on their heads, and golden cardboard crowns sitting on top of their caps.

Chicano Slang Dialogues:

MELCHOR: Yo, check it out, look at the data, carnales! That's the sacred pad! That's the correct spot, homey! That's where the dope light is blinking.

GASPAR: ¡Órale, sábanas! The cousin’s shop looks a bit humble and rough, but it’s bringing some real high vibes, man. It’s got that heavy barrio feeling.

BALTAZAR: Step in without fear and let’s present the street’s pure respects to the Kid! I brought him a fourteen-karat gold rattle with the silhouette of the Virgin to protect him from the bad guys and the chota—the cops. Pure quality!

MELCHOR: I totally killed it with the gift, carnal. I brought him a special collector's edition pair of Nikes, the "Air Jesús" with red soles, so he can run with pure Chicano style and the Border Patrol can’t catch him during a chase.

GASPAR: And me, so he never lacks the spice and flavor of the homeland in his exile life, a family-sized, black-label Valentina hot sauce—the kind they don't sell anymore because they're banned for being addictive! A total collectible!

(They do a highly complex secret handshake and enter the shop. End of scene.)

Scene 2: The Border Child and The Celestial Rematch

Setting: The interior of the mechanic shop transformed into a Nativity scene. There are blinking colorful Christmas lights, papel picado with skull and saint designs, and in the center, a blue tarp laid out on the floor simulating a neighborhood wrestling ring. In the background, an old speaker connected via Bluetooth to a broken phone plays a Christmas cumbia at full volume.

Characters:

JOSÉ BROWNIE JUNIOR: Dressed like a suburban wrestling promoter: grease-stained mechanic overalls, fake gold chains, and a tilted cap.
MARICARE: The mother. Sporting a giant 1980s teased hairstyle, massive hoop earrings, and lots of glittery makeup. Wears an embroidered apron over Mazahua indigenous clothing.
THE MIRACLE CHILD: A giant plastic doll (like a monumental King’s Cake baby) wearing a tiny northern Mexican cowboy hat cocked to the side.
All the shepherds, comadres, the Wise Men, the Venezolano, and the antagonist trio (Trumpetas, Muskis, Coyote).

JOSÉ BROWNIE JUNIOR: (Speaking into a prop microphone that echoes) Step right up, step right up, my beautiful Raza! Welcome to the sanctuary of the wrench and the miracle. Everything gets fixed here: transmissions, engines, and the soul. Thanks for bringing the neighborhood spirit to the Child, but before the tamales, we have the grand star rematch of the night! Welcome, banda!

MARICARE: (Waving her hands, very enthusiastic) ¡Ay, qué pinche gusto que vinieron! I'm so damn glad you came, seriously! After we wipe the floor with these officers, you can come take a photo and say hi to my son, El Niño Dios de la Frontera, you know. Then I'll offer you some hot punch with a spike of alcohol and some tamales that'll actually fill you up.

(Captain Trumpetas, Muskis, and the Diablito Coyote enter, pushing the captured shepherds).

CAPTAIN GRINGO: This is the end, amigos! You better behave or I'll throw you on a bus straight to the underworld with no bail! The Mexican fiesta is over!

DIABLITO COYOTE: Yeah, yeah! Hahaha! Now the clown is gonna take you away, no detours!

(Loud, dramatic wrestling music plays, like a classic "El Santo" entrance or heavy cumbia. Shiny confetti falls from the ceiling. THE MASKED ANGEL lowers down or runs in through the audience with portable strobe lights and prop smoke).

ANGEL: (In a gritty Triple-A rudo wrestler voice) What is wrong with you, Captain Trumpetas, you pumpkin-face?! You messed with my raza, you messed with the field workers and with every single service that white people don't want to do... and that... that is unforgivable! I am gonna beat the racism right out of you with pure magical wrestling moves!

CAPTAIN GRINGO: (Putting up a ridiculous old-school boxing stance) Come on then, you neighborhood-gym angel inflated on pure steroids! Let’s see what you got, piñata boy! I’m gonna tear your wings off!

MUSKIS: (Shouting like a corrupt referee and pulling out a stopwatch) Ring the bell, Alexa! Let the holy brawl begin! And long live SpaceX!

CAPTAIN GRINGO: Don't do publicity, you dummy.

COMIC AND SYMBOLIC FIGHT

(The fight is an absolute farce. José Brownie Junior narrates the moves like a TV sports commentator while the Angel and Trumpetas perform ridiculous acrobatics in slow motion).

JOSÉ BROWNIE JUNIOR: Attention, public! The Angel sets up the "Celestial Embrace of Permanent Residency"! Boom! Now he’s applying the "Mercy-plex" with full documentation included! And he prepares for the final leap... "The Arcangel Dive, 2026 Version"!

DIABLITO COYOTE: (Screaming hysterically from the corner of the ring) Hit him in the feathers, Captain! Poke his eyes out!

(The Angel does a comical spin, dodges Trumpetas, and smacks the Diablito Coyote with an aluminum baking tray. The Diablito goes rolling across the stage screaming: "Oh, miserable me, I regret being such a jerk!").

VILLANAZUL: That’s it, brother! Hit him with the "Inverted Redemption" so he learns some respect!

RAMÍREZ: Apply the "Stop Screwing Around" lock so he leaves us alone for the rest of the year!

JOSÉ BROWNIE JUNIOR: Hit him with the "Mercy Lock"—it never fails in the ring of the merciful Lord!

(Finally, the Angel grabs Captain Trumpetas by his flag vest and forces him to his knees with an exaggerated movement. The audience applauds).

ANGEL: (Triumphant, with one foot on Trumpetas’ back) Clemency and dignity win the fight, not because they’re weak... but because they stand for justice! Now, as divine punishment for being a bully... you're gonna have to choke down a super spicy mole tamale!

CAPTAIN GRINGO: (Panting on the floor, dramatically moved) Eso... I don't think so… I think... Yo creo... I don't like greasy food! I don't want to eat un tamalito, please, mercy, I prefer McDonald's! I want a Coca-Cola!

JOSÉ BROWNIE & MARICARE: (Approaching with a giant, steaming tamale) Nobody leaves this shop without dinner! Now you push it all the way down! And you're out of luck because we only have Pepsi here!

(They force the tamale into his mouth. Captain Trumpetas chews fearfully. Suddenly, his eyes widen like saucers, his face lights up, and dramatic violin music starts playing in the background).

CAPTAIN GRINGO: Holy, Holy guacamole... look what I was missing out on for being so bitter... This is a thousand times better than dry Thanksgiving turkey! Forgive me, compadres of my soul! This is the most delicious thing I have tasted in my fucking life. ¡Viva México y viva la masa de mais!

CONVERSION AND FIESTA

MUSKIS: (Watching the scene, his dark sunglasses turn off) Detecting an excess of flavor! My operating system demands carbohydrates! I’m joining the party too! I want my pepper-strip rajas tamale and a guava punch spiked with tequila! To hell with the hatred of algorithms and deportations! Long live cumbia, the Triple-A Angel, and the Border Baby God!

DIABLITO COYOTE: (Getting up from the floor, rubbing his bruises) Well... since we're forgiving the clients... do I get my share of dinner or what? I'll buy the diet sodas.

ANGEL: (Embracing Captain Trumpetas) Wow... this tamale... is really, really delicious, seriously. Maybe... maybe I was wrong about the border. Maybe... can we tear down the wall and use the bricks to build carne asada grills? Can we be friends, compa?

GÓMEZ: (To the Angel, with a raised eyebrow) And why are you speaking so much Spanglish now, celestial Angel? Didn't you come straight from Arena México?

ANGEL: Oh, it's my normal language, you know. It's just that with globalization, even up in heaven we’re thinking in Spanglish to understand each other with Saint Peter.

RAMÍREZ: (Dramatic pause. Wipes away his tears of fear, smiles, and says loudly) Spanglish, right?... (Everyone on stage turns to look at him in surprise) WHAT? WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT ME FOR? WHAT DID I SAY WRONG? DON'T LOOK AT ME LIKE I'M A BOOKED CRIMINAL ON A MUGSHOT!

VILLANAZUL: Stop the political speeches already and let's eat and stuff our faces with these tamales before they get cold... and let’s party like the good brothers we are!

CAROLUNA: That’s the way to talk, you beautiful big guy! We need to build bridges of communication, not walls of division!

LA CIELITO LINDE: Praise be to the Border Child, the king of forgiveness!

(Christmas cumbia starts playing at full volume. Everyone on stage starts dancing in pairs in a very comical way: Trumpetas dances with Gorizia, Muskis dances robotically with Caroluna, and the Angel dances with the Venezolano’s arepa cart. A piñata shaped like a crocodile with its tongue sticking out is lowered from the ceiling. The Wise Men enter tossing candy to the audience while holding up the Miracle Child so he can take the first swing at the piñata with a stick).

Final Chorus (Everyone at the front of the stage)

ALL: (Singing to a catchy cumbia/reggaeton beat, clapping in unison)

Love needs no visa, no border, no face,

We’re all just pilgrims with flavor and grace.

With cumbia in our veins and a whole lot of faith,

We beat the mean devils and won the whole race.

And the Borderland Child came to give us his bless,

To hand us our papers and clear up the mess!

(Everyone strikes a final pose pointing to the sky as golden confetti falls and the lights fade out).

THE END!