1
A new world enslaved.
This is a land
in need of a hero.
They call him
Machete. Machete.
Machete.
He knows the score.
We need a leader.
We need a revolution.
We need you, Machete.
He gets the space babes.
The people need us, Machete.
This is a new Network.
It's all galactic and shit.
He thinks he's God in Heaven.
So Heaven must fall.
And he kills the bad guys.
Starring Danny Trejo,
Michelle Rodriguez...
Eat photons, bitches.
...Alexa Vega.
With Justin Bieber as Bleep.
And Lady Gaga as
whoever she wants to be.
With special guest star
Leonardo DiCaprio as
the Man in the Silver Mask.
Actor subject to change
Machete Kills Again...
...In Space.
Rated X for cigarette use,
prolonged sexual content,
pervasive language
and space violence.
Where the fuck are they?
Hands up, assholes!
ICE. You're under arrest!
Stay down!
Immigration?
The fuck is this?
What the fuck
does it look like?
Get your ass on the ground.
Sweetheart, I'd lose whatever
strapdick you rode in on...
Don't call me sweetheart.
Move and I'll blow
your brains out.
You can't!
You don't have jurisdiction!
We're the goddamned military!
You're selling military
weapons to the cartel.
Did you really think
they were gonna pay you?
You're lucky we got here first.
Cartel.
Where's el cohete?
It's about goddamn time!
You fuckholes were
supposed to be waiting.
Save these two for me.
I know you.
You're Machete.
Enemy of the cartels.
It's my lucky day.
A man who kills a legend
becomes a legend himself.
Who are these guys?
All right, let's go.
No! He said "cohete."
These guys are pros. They didn't come
here for a couple of used M-16s.
Let's go, it's not worth it.
You're the one that
taught me that the law
and justice aren't
always the same thing.
We gotta stop 'em.
Oh, shit.
I wish you hadn't seen this.
You have the right
to remain silent.
Anything you say can and will be
used against you in a court of law.
That is quite
the resume you got there, Taco.
I mean, one might consider you
to be a bit of an overachiever
when it comes to killing people.
I bet you consider yourself a
mean motor scooter, don't you?
Especially now we
got 24 cartel boys
laid out in pieces
all over my desert.
Well, I got news for you, Taco.
They was the reserves.
They was the peons.
They're the red-headed mongoloid
runts of Los Cuerpos,
and Los Cuerpos
don't take kindly
to strangers
disciplining their own.
Can I get an amen
on that, Clebourne?
Amen, sir.
See, here's the bad
news for you, Taco.
I'm the only one who plays
vigilante around these parts.
And since you just killed
yourself a Federal officer,
I'm about to have me and mine
a hog-killing good time.
I didn't kill her.
Tomato, tomato.
Let's not get hung up
on the details, shall we?
Drop him, Clebourne.
Well, I'll be goddamned.
They say he doesn't die, sir.
Been shot, stabbed.
Doesn't ever die.
Bull-fucking-shit.
This Pedro has just
got a thick neck is all.
Sheriff, it's for you.
It damn sure ain't the governor.
It's the President.
The President.
Yeah?
Of course, Mr. President.
Yes, sir.
This is Machete.
Machete.
Welcome to the White House.
Good thing we got
to you when we did.
Southern hospitality
can be a bitch.
Why am I here?
Right to the point.
I like that.
No bullshit.
I'm a bit of a
no-bullshit guy myself.
So, all bullshit aside...
Get someone else.
We need you, Machete.
We got a situation
on our hands.
There's a revolutionary south of
the border named Marcos Mendez.
You heard of him?
He's crazy.
He's out of his mind.
He's got a missile
aimed at Washington.
He says he's gonna blow us up
if we don't invade Mexico,
clean up the cartels,
and stop the violence
they're spreading
across the land.
What's that got to do with me?
The basic violation of sovereignty
aside, we can't take the bait.
However, you know Mexico.
Hell, you are Mexico.
I want you to head back south,
find Mendez,
and just check him out.
But if what
he's saying is true,
kill him.
I'm not interested.
Motherfucker, I'm not asking
if you're interested.
I'm the President of the
United fucking States, man.
Machete don't smoke.
I could just as easily
send you back to your pals
in Hang 'Em High, Arizona.
The way I see it, you ain't
got much to chew on, hombre.
You know what this is?
Your criminal record.
Do this for us
and, poof, it's gone.
Your past no longer exists.
In exchange for your services,
I'm making you legal.
You don't have
to sign anything,
raise your right hand,
none of that shit.
I just stamp this
bad motherfucker,
and you are now an official
citizen of the USA.
I just saved you from your noose.
Save me from mine.
Do it for your country,
your new country.
Isn't that what your dead
girlfriend would want?
Agent Sartana?
If you won't do this
for me, Machete,
do it for her.
Your contact is in San Antonio.
She'll brief you and get you
across the border wall.
Your nation owes you a debt
of gratitude, Machete.
Go kick some ass.
Ladies and gentlemen, El Rey
Network's very own Miss Texas Pageant
presents Miss San Antonio!
Thank you.
What do I believe?
I believe n the word "equality."
I believe in a woman's
right to choose.
Choose what?
A snow cone, if that's what
she's in the mood for.
I believe in good barbecue, the
two-step, and the right to carry a gun.
World peace?
Sure, why not?
But if we really wanna
talk about world peace,
we have to start by tearing down that
wall that separates us from Mexico.
That wall only enables
us to ignore
the violence and injustice
that is occurring down there,
thus making world peace nothing more
than a beauty pageant pipe dream.
God bless Texas.
Thank you.
You must be Machete.
Blanca Vasquez.
Codename, Miss San Antonio.
I'll be your handler for the
duration of your assignment.
You get into a stitch,
and I'll be in your ear
with the what's what,
the who's who and the
when's where of it all.
Try not to be distracted by the
cleavage and the hairspray.
It's part of my cover.
This gig keeps me
close to the border
and the designer duds
ain't bad, either.
What happened to world peace?
Fuck world peace.
The M4 carbine long-range.
It's got reflex sights, micro-polymer
grip, a customized trigger.
Fast enough to nip a
jackrabbit on roller skates.
That is, of course,
you happen to come across a
jackrabbit on roller skates.
Or, my personal favorite,
the grappler.
Fires up to 30 yards.
Good for when you gotta scratch
those hard to reach places.
I like this.
I like your style.
Low-tech.
But this ain't your
mama's cane cutter.
Consider this the Swiss
Army Knife of machetes.
Machete.
Tell me about Mendez.
Marcos Mendez
is the most sick and twisted
fuckity-fox I've ever
had to keep tabs on.
People down south call him
Marcos the Madman.
He used to run with Los Cuerpos
until one day he wakes up
and decides he's gonna turn on the
cartel, fight for the people.
We figure he's laired-up
in the jungle somewhere
since our satellites
can't pinpoint him.
Our only lead is
this prizewinner,
a working girl, goes
by the name of Cereza.
Find her, find Mendez.
Where can I find her?
In Acapulco.
Her information, including the address
to her brothel, is in this dossier.
Uh, uh, uh.
First, I'm gonna need
something from you.
See, even here,
people talk about Machete.
The man.
The myth.
The legend.
I just wanna know the
legend inside and out.
I just lost someone.
Why don't you let me turn that
frown upside down, Papi?
How long
since you've been back?
Since before the wall went up.
A lot has changed since then.
It's a run and gun
free-for-all out there.
Acapulco is a war zone,
and we're dropping you
right in the middle of it.
Here. It's a direct
line to yours truly.
You get into a pinch, you just
press pound to phone home.
It's good for calls,
texts, tweets.
Machete don't tweet.
You do now.
You ready for this?
Good luck on that pageant.
I'm gonna need
a lot more than luck!
Did you see the ass
on Miss Corpus Christi?
All right.
For all of you new girls,
it's peso-pussy Tuesday.
So keep your panties dropped, your legs
spread, and your snatch well-oiled,
'cause you're not walking any
straight lines tomorrow.
As you know,
every jerk-off low-life from
this side of Rio Grande
is gonna pile through that door
as soon as the sun comes down,
so get them off
and get them out.
And, ladies, every stiff pecker
in my parlor pays to play.
No freebies.
Those are house rules.
Doors open in five minutes.
You're early, handsome.
But then again, the early
bird gets the fresh egg.
I'm looking for a girl.
And I'm looking at a man that
came to the right place.
Pick your poison.
This is the one I want.
Why this one?
Best in Mexico.
Have a seat on the couch,
lover boy.
I'll go fetch her for you.
Where's the girl?
Upstairs. Room six.
But don't go.
You'll miss the peepshow.
I blew my wad, lover boy.
Get him!
Who the fuck are you?
Machete.
I've heard Mendez speak of you.
You want to use me
to get to him?
Take me.
Now.
Cereza!
I said no freebies.
You know, the first thing we are
taught is to defend ourselves.
Any one of us
could have killed you.
You think my mom had bite?
Mendez is gonna gut
you like a game hen.
That was your mother?
You're here to kill him,
aren't you?
Look, don't be
a fucking hero, man.
Mendez is many things, but
merciful is not one of them.
He'll skin you alive for
laying your hands on me.
I'm his cereza, his virgin.
Mendez isn't who
you think he is.
The terrible things he did, he
did them for the greater good.
All he truly wants
is a better Mexico.
Machete, you have to promise me
you'll spare his life
and help him.
Please, Machete.
If you've ever loved
anyone, you'd understand.
Do nothing, say nothing,
or you're dead.
Who's this?
New bodyguard.
Mother's orders.
Go ahead, Zaror.
Call it in.
Tell Mendez the muscle
comes or I don't.
Yes.
So here's the thing.
He's lost his mind. There
are two sides to him now.
Some days he's Mendez the
Revolutionary, fighting for the people.
But other days he's
Mendez the Madman,
reliving his cartel glory.
It's a toss-up which
one you're gonna get.
So he'll either hug you
or he'll kill you.
His condition gets worse every day.
The boss has a message
for you, Machete.
End of message.
WOW!
Look what the little
whore dragged in.
Machete Cortez.
Yes, I've heard your stories.
People still sing
songs about you.
Raise your hand
if you have sung a song
about our friend Machete here.
Only son of a bitch who gets his
praises sung around here is me.
So tell me, Machete, what did
you think of my Cereza, huh?
It's a shame
I had to let her go,
but by bringing you here
she betrayed me.
She was trying to save you.
You know what this is?
This is the enema
I plan to fire up
the asshole of
the United States.
Why, Mendez?
Because our people don't
need songs or stories.
They need action.
There's other ways.
The motherfuckers
run this country,
the corrupt politicians,
the media, hiding the truth,
and the cartels killing anything and
anyone who stands in their path.
The US is responsible
for a lot of this.
So since they don't take care
of their part of the problem,
then we will send our part
of the problem to them.
You're crazy.
With a capital muchacho.
I know why
you're here, Machete.
You work for
the enemy now, huh?
Mmm.
Just another Pancho
doing their dirty work.
I got news for you, cabrn.
Killing me ain't in the cards.
'Cause I am the ticking, ticking
wrath of Mexico, motherfucker.
Thanks to my good doctor here,
that missile's system
is linked right into my heart.
So if my heart stops beating,
Washington will become
the bright shining light
it always thought it was.
Disarm it.
There's only two men in the
world who know how to do that.
Correction, one.
Who's the other one?
The one who created this
beautiful device, of course.
But since he lives in the US,
I'm afraid you are fucked.
Your mission is over, cabrn.
You have failed.
Machete don't fail.
What you gonna do,
you gonna kill me?
That's a motherfucking
bomb, pendejo!
I'm not gonna kill you.
I'm gonna kill your men, steal your
choppers, get you over the wall.
Leave him to me!
And find the other one
that can disarm you.
Shoot me!
Let me take care
of him. Please.
You won't make it, amigo.
Even if we get out
of here alive,
my men are instructed
to put a bounty on my head.
$10 million.
We won't survive a mile,
let alone the border.
And the best part is,
the fail-safe on my ticker
here just went live.
You have 24 hours, my friend.
$10 million! If the assassins
don't get us, the cartels will.
Hell, anyone with
a loaded weapon
and a bill to pay
will make a run at us.
And, boy, it's a long way
to the wall.
Yeah? What's the status?
Is he dead?
I have Mendez in custody.
In a chopper.
He's alive.
Wait a second.
Machete, what's this I hear about
you having Mendez in custody?
Things got complicated.
No shit!
You were supposed to take him
out, not give him a joyride
on the Good Ship Lollipop!
Damn it, I didn't recruit you
for your sense of compassion.
Machete kills.
That's what he does! He
doesn't save the bad guys!
Now shoot that motherfucker!
If he dies, you die. The
missile is wired to his heart.
Come again?
Machete, can it be disarmed?
Only where it was made.
VozTech.
VozTech is the biggest weapons
supplier to our military!
You want to bring him all the way
back to the fucking manufacturer?
I need your help
getting him across the border.
This is part of something big.
I can feel it.
Not happening.
Last time I sent a black
op team into Mexico,
they got dead and I got
the Oval ass-fuck.
You're on our own, Machete.
We cannot help you until you're
out of Mexico. You hear me?
Get the hell out of there
as fast as you can!
Machete, double-time it
to the border.
I'll assist you as
much as possible,
but you've got
to move your ass!
Oh, what happened?
You don't remember?
I have this condition,
I'm afraid.
I seem to switch
personalities unexpectedly.
You tried to kill yourself.
You strapped a bomb
to your chest.
Then it seems events
are already in motion.
I am Marcos Mendez, leader of
the revolution. And you are?
Machete.
Oh, Machete.
I've heard of you.
People sing songs about you...
We've had this talk already.
Come on, get up.
I didn't hurt anyone, did I?
You had Cereza killed.
Then I'm a monster
and I must die.
Let's go.
I will lay down my life
for the cause.
And if you choose to
remain in my company,
I fear you will become
its casualty, as well.
Come on.
Should've kept
up with your Spanish there, son.
Sounds like we may be able to
string up this piata after all.
Let's get on it, Clebourne.
Sounds like bean-fried Pedros
are back in season.
Come on!
You wouldn't happen
to have a Popsicle
I could stick up
my ass, would you?
A martini. Extra dirty.
Two olives.
All we have is tequila
and Chango.
Right.
For a moment there, I forgot I was
in a black hole of sophistication.
Chango it is.
Although, your limited
selection of Mexican beer
is not what brings me here.
So what does?
You do, Carlos.
But it can't be.
They say you don't have a face.
They say you don't exist.
I may not exist,
but this gun does.
You don't have to do this!
You can tell whoever hired you
that I'll give back the money.
This isn't about
the money, Carlos,
and it isn't about my employer.
It's about ethics.
Now if I don't shoot you
square in the face,
I would be violating a contractual
obligation and, well...
Please.
Don't beg.
Emotional confrontations
make me very uncomfortable.
How much for the Change?
50 cents.
I'm gonna give you 75.
Do you have change
for a dollar?
I don't know
where the hell we are.
Excuse me.
We're a little lost. Any chance
you could steer us to Len?
I could.
The trouble is, you've seen my
face and I've just changed.
I'm truly sorry, ma'am.
It's just a matter of time and
place not meeting in your favor.
I am lost.
Can you help me with directions?
Is there a bus
that goes nearby?
"Maneater."
That's what they used to call me
when I was just a little girl.
I didn't know what that meant,
but that never stopped my daddy
from coming into my bed
after a night of drinking.
So, one night, I gave
him what he deserved.
I chewed his balls off
with my teeth!
The next day,
I went to school with pieces
of him still in my braces.
I became what he always
said I was, a maneater.
I despise men.
I can't trust them.
I think that
pussy clouds their minds.
And now my little
Cereza lays dead
because of that reason.
And that's where you come in.
As random as a selection
as you might be,
you're still a man, Papi,
and I am fucking famished!
Madame?
Yes?
We've found them.
Mendez and Machete.
Bring me my double-D's.
Gather all the girls.
We're going
to avenge my Cereza.
Hey! You want Mendez?
Here I am!
You read my mind, Machete.
Yup. Yup. Yup, this is the
perfect place for my last meal.
Give me and my friend here a
plate of your finest cabrito.
And bring some bread and wine,
too, please. Thank you.
See, Machete, you're the
only one who doesn't want me dead.
Puta madre, Machete.
What the hell are you
doing back in Mexico?
Our federales brothers
were very upset
that you abandoned us
in the heat of battle.
I heard you moved to the US and
cleaned rich people's pools, huh?
Put the gun down.
This man's a murderer.
He killed 13 federales
in cold blood.
13 crooked federales.
Dirty lint in
Los Cuerpo's pocket.
How the fuck do
you know that, puto?
I was undercover.
An agent?
There's no agents in Mexico.
You're looking at Mexico's first,
last, and only secret agent.
Give me one fucking good reason
I shouldn't shoot him
like the dog that he is.
If he dies, thousands in
Washington die with him.
And if he lives?
How many more will die?
And why help the US?
'Cause I'm the only one
who can.
You were always
the sensitive one, Machete.
Bloody hell!
It's a Mexican stand-off!
I'm taking him in.
Oh, really? Where?
You will take me straight
to the cartels.
Machete.
This man is a dirty cop.
Shut your fucking mouth!
Shut up, loco!
You shouldn't have
said that, amigo.
Because if you call me loco, then
I'm afraid loco is what you get!
Hello again, Machete.
Say one more word!
Let's make a better
Mexico, Machete.
All you have to do is pull
that fucking trigger. Come on.
Come on!
See, Machete?
Justice and law aren't
always the same thing.
What the fuck is going on here?
Where's my cabrito?
Machete!
Hola.
Ah, look at me, top scores.
Forgive my excitement, but I'm
just learning to speak Spanish.
Not by choice, but I can't get the,
uh, CD to change for the life of me.
But fuck it.
When in Rome, right?
Well, I'm trying to find a
place called Villa Guerrero.
Perhaps you've heard of it?
No s, seor.
You haven't heard of it, or "no s,"
you don't understand the question?
Allow me to use
a more useful illustration.
I'm really trying here.
And if you say "no s"
one more time,
I'm gonna put a bullet in your
brain out of sheer frustration.
Now then, Villa Guerrero?
Your sense of direction doesn't
inspire confidence, seor
Allow me to translate.
Damn. I was just starting
to get used to this face.
Ooh.
Muy bien, indeed.
El doctor.
Come quick.
Get the fuck out of here.
I'm performing surgery.
Put him in the bed there.
Where are they?
Still inside.
Okay, you two take the rear.
Machete!
Come out and play!
It's time we had another fling!
And bring that
baby-killer Mendez!
Pucker up, lover boy.
Suck on this!
Ugh, that's disgusting!
So I'm still alive.
Good for you, Machete.
Good for you.
This is the crazy you talking?
I can't continue to
live my life like this.
You used to be cartel.
And then you became
a revolutionary.
Why?
I was never cartel.
I was a secret agent
for the Mexican government.
My mission was
to infiltrate Los Cuerpos.
I had to see things.
I had to do things.
I had to watch people die in
ways that no man ever imagined.
Compromising everything I
believed, I became one of them.
I remember calling
my supervisor,
telling him that I wanted out,
that I wanted my life back.
What I didn't know,
he was dirty.
He had been bought
by the cartels.
They took me to
the killing room
where my wife
and daughter were waiting.
And they made me watch
as they beat them,
tortured them.
And then it happened.
The Madman took over
for the first time.
My wife and baby girl died because I
trusted a system that did not exist.
I realized that if I was
ever going to change Mexico,
I must do it myself.
I started my own revolution
against every single rotten motherfucker
responsible for this violence.
I will die to see it through.
The real tragedy
in it all is that
people will never know
the truth about me.
How about you? Does anybody
know the real Machete?
Where's your partner?
Every cop has a partner.
You couldn't keep
them alive, could you?
Think about it.
How old are you?
In your line of work, why
have you lived so long?
Your partners knew about
self-sacrifice for the greater good.
Not you, though.
You know what you are?
Vengeance.
You are vengeance.
And vengeance never dies.
It only changes targets.
Blessing in disguise, chacho.
You'd never make it past the
wall in this piece of shit.
You need a stronger vehicle,
an armored vehicle,
and I know where
we can get one.
Small town near the border.
There's a chop-shop there.
Satellite feed coming online.
Once he crosses the
border, we can move in.
Come on. Come on,
come on, come on.
Come on, you want to get
across that wall or what?
This is cartel turf.
You led us right to 'em, you
crazy son of a bitch! Shh.
No, no, no, no.
Be quiet.
They're all around us.
Waiting.
Lurking.
We're looking for a ride.
Well, this ain't Enterprise
fucking Rent-A-Car.
These are custom orders.
I would do as he says, Grasa.
Well, look at this.
Marcos Mendez in the flesh.
This will do.
No shit it'll do.
That baby's my
fucking masterpiece.
Could take her through a
minefield without a flat tire.
Cartel!
Easy, hombre.
You wouldn't shoot a man in
a wheelchair, would you?
No.
I'm jealous.
Go, Machete, go!
Hola, motherfucker.
Let's go to the nude beach.
Hey there, lover boy!
Ladies, give them hell.
Save lover boy for Mama.
I have a special package
for him.
Killjoy, give me
my strap-on!
Grab the wheel.
Get out!
Fuck!
You're dead.
Fuck, Machete!
You're crazier than I am!
Crazy like a gypsy fuck, man!
Oh, what you gonna do?
Drive through it? It's solid concrete.
Machete, what the hell
are you doing?
Even Jesus couldn't get
through that damn wall!
Do you know another way?
There is no other way!
That's why they call
it a wall, God damn it!
I know a way.
See that graffiti tag
on the wall?
Drive straight for it.
An inch to either side and they'll
be scraping us off the cement.
Which Mendez are you?
The one who wants to help
you get across the border.
Hit it!
We built the tunnels
when they built the wall.
You made it!
Well, sweet Jezebel!
I think we just hit us
a stroke of beaner's luck
running into you again, Taco.
You know, you and your
compadre are going for about
10 million buckaroos a head.
I was never straight A's
in algebra,
but that is a shit-fire-fuck-me-hallelujah
lot of money.
I figure we oughta take advantage
of your lucrative predicament
and get us up to squares.
No distractions this time,
right, Clebourne?
That's right, Sheriff.
All right then.
Sayonara, Taco.
Special Agent Mendez.
How many of you are there?
Sorry, that's classified.
What the hell is that?
My welcome party.
You didn't think
it would all be over
once we crossed
the border, did you?
Who do you think gave me that
missile in the first place?
There is a grand
conductor behind all this.
Zaror! You're alive!
Why re-elect
President Rathcock?
He dished out $6 million
of taxpayer money
to space technology companies
like VozTech Industries.
He built a wall protecting us
from the threat of illegals.
He took a stand and defended our
second amendment with a vengeance.
And to boost our national
economy to an all-time high,
he made marijuana
legal in 48 states.
My fellow Americans, it's
been a groovy four years.
But there is still so
much left to accomplish.
For me, winning was
only the beginning.
Re-elect Rathcock.
A name you like,
a face you can trust.
Don't worry,
Mr. Cortez.
You haven't failed
your mission yet.
Where am I?
Recuperating in my sumptuous
healing pool right now.
Do you like it?
And as you can see,
our friend Marcos Mendez is still
very much alive and ticking.
Which makes him
still very much a threat.
It needs to be disarmed.
You don't know what
you're dealing with.
Well, actually, I do.
I invented it.
Allow me to introduce myself.
My name is Luthor Voz.
Let me admit, I've been following
your career for quite some time now.
I am a tremendous fan
of your work, Mr. Cortez.
As an aficionado of
the arts of war myself,
I just gotta say that you
are one genuine article,
Genghis Khan, high caliber,
fucker-people-upper.
You're a warrior,
Mr. Cortez. A killer.
A survivor. Like me.
Just try to relax.
I mean, if I wanted you dead,
you'd be fucking dead.
Are you gonna disarm it or not?
I'm leaning towards not.
But that all very much
depends on you, Mr. Cortez.
You sold Mendez the missile.
No. I gave it to him.
But then, I've given a lot of bad
things to a lot of bad people,
but that does not
make me one of them.
Get dressed, Mr. Cortez.
Allow me to try
and convince you.
I'll turn my back.
Welcome to VozTech,
the world's premier space technology
and weapons manufacturer.
You know, Time Magazine
once called me
a merchant of death
with an assembly line.
But one very special day,
I began to think bigger.
And now I've turned science
fiction into science reality.
And this, this is where
we conduct our training exercises.
For what?
Our exodus.
When NASA asked
me to build them
a new state-of-the-art
luxury spacestation,
I luxuriously told
them to fuck themselves.
Why, you ask? Well, because I'd
already built one of my own.
It's up there right now, just
floating the fuck around,
waiting for me and my
people to inhabit it.
In fact, Mr. Cortez...
Machete.
Incidentally, Mr. Machete,
I plan on moving into my new
space pad very, very soon.
I'm very excited.
Here, have a heart.
What about the heart?
Well, that's why
I'm relocating.
Climb aboard.
Yes, I'm a Star Wars fan.
Tanks, missiles,
bread and butter.
It's the simple
things that fund
my more out-of-this-world
enterprises.
Why Mendez?
Why?
Well, bin Laden is dead
and America has always
needed its boogeyman,
so I created a new one.
Yes, I supplied Seor Mendez
with the fireworks.
But given Mendez's
aptitude for the unpredictable,
I left one of my men
behind to keep me abreast
of his process or lack thereof.
What's your plan
have to do with me?
I have high hopes
for you, Mr. Machete.
Higher than you could
mentally ascend to.
A spaceship?
Technically speaking,
space shuttle.
Not to mention, my legacy.
It all started about
six years ago.
I privately funded a suborbital launch.
Went up myself.
Yeah, I was something of a
thrill-seeker back then.
Before what I like to
call "the incident."
I was up amongst the stars and
something inexplicable happened to me.
I saw the future.
I saw the world ending.
It unfolded right before
my very eyes.
And that's why I built this.
Aboard it, me and anyone who wants
to join me will take flight.
And when kingdom comes,
as it surely will,
we'll be safe
amongst the stars.
Noah had his ark, I got mine.
You really believe that?
I believe what I see.
And luckily for you, sir,
I saw you up there with me.
I see glimpses
of what lies ahead.
It's a condition I was left
with after the incident.
Speaking of which, I'd take a
step or two back if I were you.
You ever had dja vu?
Lasts a couple of seconds, right?
With me, it's been two years.
You don't believe
me now, but you will.
Now if I couldn't
see into the future,
then how could I have
made all these?
Mr. Machete, I present to
you the arms of tomorrow.
Pick your fancy.
And you pick the only one
in the place that's faulty.
I'm sorry, but my molecule
blaster doesn't quite work yet.
It keeps turning
shit inside-out.
Perhaps this is more
your speed anyway.
Primitive, lightweight.
Retro, yet high-tech.
Demonstration?
Like it?
Yes.
It's yours.
And now, Mr. Machete, if I
could just cut to the rub.
I'd like to recruit you.
You already have enough men.
No, but not the best
by any means.
How can they be when you so
dominantly claim that title yourself?
Demonstration.
Good luck.
Encore.
Encore.
Or three?
Genetically engineered
super soldiers, you see.
Clones.
Have at 'em.
Just as I predicted.
No match for the likes of you.
I created my clones because where I'm
going, I'm going to need an army.
And that poor dead bastard
you met in Mexico, Zaror,
he was my prototype.
But since you fucked him up like a
Special Ed science fair project,
I'm left to regret my choice.
You still haven't
told me why I'm here.
I need a stronger specimen from
which to draw a new batch of clones
and I was hoping that you
would do me that honor, sir.
There is only one Machete.
But what if there were more?
What if there was an army
of enhanced Machetes?
Machete, Machete.
Everywhere Machete!
You and I together, we'd be a
force to be reckoned with.
I'm sorry.
I may have overreacted,
but that numbnuts was about to spill
a bottle of 1787 Chateau Lafite.
No more games.
Disarm it.
Join me.
Surely you know by now that I
know how all this turns out.
Then you know I'm taking this.
Oh, and where will you go?
You know I'm the only
one that can disarm it.
I'll find someone else.
Oh, good luck with that.
But I think there's one more
little thing you should know.
Mendez wasn't
my only boogeyman.
North Korea, Russia,
I have a Mendez everywhere.
And in a matter of hours,
they'll launch on one another,
throwing the world into gargantuan,
unrecoverable anarchy.
Too many syllables?
The world is fucked.
Why?
This world must end in order for
a more perfect one to emerge.
And like it or not, Mr. Machete,
you're coming with me.
Goddamn, you're good!
Get that bastard!
Try not to get too many of yourselves
killed in the process!
My molecule blaster
doesn't quite work right yet.
It keeps turning
shit inside-out.
What took you so long?
You're luck I came at all.
Oh, we'll meet again,
Mr. Machete.
I've seen it.
Been tracking you since your
bounty hit the airwaves.
Quite a shit-storm you
stirred up down south.
I thought I'd tap in. Couldn't
let you have all the fun.
Hey. I'm sorry
about Sartana.
We all are.
She was one of the good ones.
As you can see, the
Network's gone full scale.
We're new and improved.
Over 500,000 extractions
and counting.
When they put up the wall, we had
to up our game, find funding.
Now, our reach extends all
the way to San Cristbal.
The rules are the same.
You get in, you gotta earn it.
We monitor our members to make
sure they're doing their part.
If they're not, I'll deport
their asses myself.
Missing?
All of them?
MIA. Every last
one of them.
One minute they're tearing
ass for the border,
the next, they're vanished.
Disappeared without a trace.
It's like aliens abducted
by goddamn aliens.
You gotta check this out.
This is the surveillance
footage we got.
We think the same douchebag
that took you took them.
Seems like he's building
some sort of secret weapon,
possibly needs the Mexican
labor to finish it.
It's in space.
He wants to get there before
the missiles take off.
What missiles? What the
fuck are you talking about?
Launch trigger is wired
to a biological clock.
We need to find someone
to disarm it.
You got anybody in the Network?
Yeah. But you
don't like him.
Osiris.
Come on, Machete, he's with us.
He's not with me.
He's our only bomb guy.
You wanna choke
him out, go ahead.
I hear it's always
the blue wire.
What's he doing here?
He came to me about
six months ago.
Said he'd changed his tune.
Cabrones ain't got no tune.
I know that you would prefer
to see me all sorts of dead,
but God has already cursed
me for what I did to Padre.
That's why I'm here.
To finish your brother's work.
My only redemption
is in righting that wrong.
So, please, give me mercy and I
swear I will make it up to you.
Or die trying.
I'd have it no other way.
This is your bomb guy?
You can try the Yellow Pages.
I gotta make a call.
You'd better be somewhere
with shit reception,
because I've been trying
to reach you all damn day.
Where's Mendez?
Dead.
But his heart still beats.
You're joking, right?
Machete don't joke.
Humor me.
Who's got the heart?
Voz. He's bad news. Been using
Mendez to do all his dirty work.
Machete, I'm gonna stop
you right there, okay?
Luthor Voz may have his hand in a
lot of pockets, but he's harmless.
He sponsors my damn
pageant, for Christ's sake.
You need to alert
the President.
Just calm down.
Tell me your location and we'll
talk about this in person.
Better meet somewhere else.
Have it your way.
I'm gonna text you a rendezvous point
after my swimsuit competition.
Who's the bitch?
Handler.
You fuck her?
Yeah, you did.
What, you got a problem?
Yeah, I got a problem.
When you smell like pussy, it
means you're pussy-whipped.
And when you're pussy-whipped,
your judgment's cloudy.
Just jealous.
Is that her?
I thought Machete don't text.
Machete loves everybody.
Man, screw this.
Where you going?
With you.
It takes a bitch to make a
bitch and I smell fish taco.
Tito, Osiris.
Taco time.
What do you know?
I won.
Congratulations.
It's exciting, right?
You're looking at
the new Miss Texas.
Who are they?
Listen, cario, I would love
to stay and chit-chat with you,
but not while there's a live
missile inside state lines.
So would you please,
pretty please,
get into the car and debrief
me on your mission?
If that's even what you'd like to
call your blood-splattered fiasco.
How'd you know?
Know what?
The missile.
That it was here.
Look at you.
Smarter than
the average Mexican.
You work for Voz.
I promised to turn you over to Voz
and Voz promised me the crown.
See, I can't really
sing or twirl a baton,
but I can win.
Oh.
Papi, I'm sorry.
You and I really could
have had something,
but I just love killing
a good romance.
Make it count.
I knew I smelled bitch
in the air tonight.
Payback's the only bitch
you need to worry about.
This dress costs more
than your fucking life!
Didn't anybody ever tell you not
to wear a dress to a gunfight?
Oh, baby, I always
dress to the nines.
I dress to kill.
Wait, no, wait!
No, wait!
Where's Tito?
He's down.
Go, I got this.
How many do we got?
Fuck!
He's on the roof!
Yeah, no shit he's on the roof!
Will one of you please get
him off the roof... Shit!
For crying out loud,
will one of you well-paid,
well-trained
gentlemen please shoot
that motherfucker?
Thank you!
This is the President.
Mr. President,
it's Miss San Antonio.
Machete never showed
up to the rendezvous.
I just hope
that he's still alive.
It doesn't matter.
It's not worth it. Let's go.
Aren't you the one that
taught me that the law and justice
aren't always the same thing?
We gotta stop 'em.
Fuck it.
Who am I kidding?
I really must hand
it to you, mi amigo.
You are a difficult man
to catch up with.
You have no idea what I
went through to get here.
Hours, I spent stranded
on that desert highway
until this holy rolling
rig came along.
Lady. Please. Help me.
You and all your drug-pushing
compadres just derailed my pursuit,
so frankly, I'm leaning in
another direction entirely.
Give me mercy.
There's about three things
I'd rather give you
and they're all in the
chamber of this gun.
Straight up?
Or with some flair?
Straight up?
Or flair?
Whatever is the more
interesting way to die.
Weirdo.
You know, I rather
enjoy my new disguise.
I must apologize for making
you dig your own grave.
It's appalling, not offering you
a more professional courtesy,
but I'm not one for hard labor.
You on the other hand, being Mexican
and all, you must be used to it.
And...
Holy fucking
underground tunnel!
People!
Did you see the Mexican guy?
Drop it!
Reach for the sky before I put
that illegal face in a tussle.
You have it all wrong.
This is all a big mistake.
Only mistake you made was dancin'
across that border, muchacho.
No, no, you don't understand.
I am no Mexican.
Don't move your hands, amigo!
Sir, really, listen
to my voice.
Do I sound Mexican?
I am from Ontario,
for fuck's sake!
Canadian and Mexican.
Double-whammy.
Smoke this fool!
Get him some water!
No time for water.
Doc Felix needs to see him right away.
Machete!
You're back.
Sorry if I smell.
Did you know the average person
passes gas 14 times a day?
It's true.
Our target, Luthor Voz.
The same proper fuck who's
been jacking our members.
As we speak, he's got a missile
pointed right up our ass.
And since it looks like no one else
is gonna stop him, it's on us.
Machete's mission with Voz
has nothing to do with us.
We are the Network.
Our mission is Mexico.
Our mission has changed.
He's right.
I'll go it alone.
You're not going anywhere
without me, cabrn.
No time to argue.
Fuck that.
Let me explain
something, mi gente.
This isn't about
Mexico no more.
It's about the world.
No world, no Mexico.
Count me in.
Me, too.
Me, too.
Ditto.
Viva Machete!
Looks like
it's settled, Machete.
When do we hit 'em?
Tonight.
Network-1 in position.
Network-2 in position.
Copy that.
Here you are.
Thank you.
Ladies and
gentlemen, your host, Voz!
My fellow travelers,
my friends,
I proudly present the Millennium-1
ready to launch right on schedule.
Now before long,
we'll be transported to the heavens on
a maiden voyage of Titanic proportion.
And once the world is purged,
we'll return to bring about
a new world together!
In a moment, the boarding
process will begin.
But first, my friends,
prepare for infinity!
Reveal your new selves to me!
Why don't you
tell them the truth?
Tell them you orchestrated all this.
The missiles, the heart.
Would someone please help the help?
He seems to be lost.
Tell them if the world ends,
you're the one who ended it.
How can this be? This isn't
supposed to be happening.
No, this isn't supposed to be...
I never saw this.
Machete happens.
Look, this is no time
for second thoughts.
The end is near, I assure you.
For you.
Let's do this.
Well, ladies and gents, I had hoped
to have an uninhibited evening,
but now it seems...
Guards!
What about Voz?
We find the heart first.
After you, chief.
Motherfuckers!
What the beating fuck is that?
Yeah, I'm more of a cherry bomb,
matchstick kind of guy, you know.
Semtex, TNT.
50-50 shot on a good day.
But this... I mean, high
octane organs ain't my bag.
Then what good are you?
Never mind.
We're live.
It's a shame I have to kill you now,
Mr. Machete, but if you gotta go,
go inside-out.
No!
We're even.
Well, what can I say?
I suppose we both like getting
our hands a little dirty.
You can't beat me, you know.
I know your every move
even before you do.
Nobody knows Machete.
That's true.
Ever since I met you, the future has been
more unclear, and that, that puzzles me.
But then I figured it out.
There's just not a whole lot
going on up there, is there?
I admit, I may not be able to
predict you as accurately now,
but I assure you, I'm every bit
as merciless as what you are.
Demonstration?
Keep fighting, God damn it!
Preach it, sister.
How poetic.
Now you really are
the blind leading the blind.
Round them up, let's go!
Get them on the shuttle now.
And someone find Voz.
All right, folks,
let's keep it moving.
Form a single-file line,
one after another. Thank you.
Missile launch in minus two minutes.
One after another.
What the hell?
Keep your hands in the straps
and hold on tight.
Really?
You're gonna make
me kill a blind chick?
I'm pretty sure they're gonna
take my crown for that.
That's all right. They'll just give it to
the next bimbo who spreads like butter.
All right, darling.
You wanna tango?
Let's tango.
Mano-a-mano, motherfucker.
Missile
launch in T minus one minute.
Watch it now, pussycat.
That's not a very lady-like
kind of thing to say.
I don't do lady-like.
So what then, you're just a
regular old cranky bitch?
Or is it PMS?
If it were PMS,
you'd be dead already.
It was fun while it lasted.
So now what happens?
Ask the last guy
who shot my eye out.
It appears we have a stray.
And where, oh, where might our mutual
acquaintance be at this moment?
Pissing on your sunny day.
You fucked with
the wrong Mexican.
Indeed I have.
However, in 20 seconds,
none of that will matter,
but you, well, you're looking at
a pickle any way you slice it.
I can't see, but I could
still kick your ass.
That's why I'm taking
you with me.
Ah!
Load her onto the shuttle.
Bring them.
They can join the other
laborers we abducted.
There'll be plenty of work
to be done up there.
This is your captain speaking.
I apologize in advance for the discomfort
you may experience during our travels,
but we are unforeseeably
overbooked.
So please hang on and try
and enjoy the flight.
See you in space,
Mr. Machete.
Get the fuck off that man.
He just saved the world's ass.
Machete, I got your message. We
were able to stop the other missiles.
Where's that
son of a bitch Voz?
Are you telling me
that turkey is just up
there floating around
with weapons and shit?
I got a wild idea.
Just hear me out.
I can put you on a SpaceX
rocket, top of the line.
You go up into space.
I'll do it.
I'll do it.
Your country thanks you.
Good luck, Machete.
Get the bastard.
I'm President Rathcock
and I approve this message.
You can't surprise
pussy-punch someone.