What’s Up, Raza? ILLEGAL 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!