EL REY

[Drunk Monk]

Turns out the El Rey casting couch is...well...grindhouse. Sanguinous. Like a soiled brick wal in a dirty alley. Skulls in the corner. Dark and sound proof to muffle the screams. And the lights, so feckin bright, retina frying. Like a cop interrogation. I'm not the man I used to be and caved quickly. I gave it all up - where I hid the loot, where I buried the bodies, the passwords, the hostages, do what you want to the girl but leave me alone.

But it looks like I got the part. I go back in two weeks for a week of El Rey mayhem. I RIDE WITH EL REY.