Don Coyote, charismatic guitarist, attempts to steer Red off the path of her Día del Sendero with enticing concert tickets, much to the horror of her guide, Corky.

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    (A loud crash is heard, like an explosion after a power-surge. Lights flicker. A guitar riff is heard. Lights up. DON COYOTE [18] appears with an electric guitar and amp. There is a rock star vibe to him, a young Billy Idol type. He plays with bravado. Corky shields himself with Red's cloak.)

RED: (Enthralled:) Wow.

[PAZ: (Also intrigued:) Whooo.]

    (Red pulls her cloak away from Corky. Corky brushes himself off.)

RED: That was amazing.

DON: (Cockney English accent:) Thanks.

RED: My, what a great guitar you have.

DON: The better to play with, my dear.

RED: And my, what a cool jacket you have.

DON: The better to wear, my dear.

RED: And my, what beautiful hair you have.

DON: The better to be me, my dear. So, what's all this then?

RED: We were just—

CORKY: Just about to leave.

    (Corky pulls Red away.)

RED: What are you doing?

CORKY: What are you doing? You're talking to a complete stranger, you know.

RED: (To Don:) Actually, you look familiar. Weren't you in my sister's class? Yeah, you played in Battle of the Bands last year.

DON: Yeah, that's right, with my old band, Mother Hubbard. We would've placed first, but pompous Principal Piper had problems with profanity.

RED: Is the rest of your band here?

DON: Oh, no. They all went off to college or work, that sorta thing. Just never cared about the music, I suppose.

RED: I'm Red.

    (Red extends her hand. Don shakes it.)

DON: Don. Don Coyote.

RED: Is that your stage name?

DON: It could be anything you want, love.

CORKY: Hey, that's a fascinating story, okay, goodbye.

DON: What's wrong with this bloke?

RED: Where do I start?

DON: Why don't you cool it, Nancy?

CORKY: My name is Cesar.

DON: Well, it says here you're Corky. Should really learn your own name, mate. Now, for my next number, here's a little ditty I wrote back when I—

CORKY: Sorry, but we don't have time for ditties.

    (Don grabs the basket and peeks inside.)

RED: We might have time for just an itty-bitty ditty.

DON: Got it, no ballads then. So what's with the basket? You got snacks in there?

    (Corky takes the basket and hands it back to Red.)

CORKY: I'll take that, and for your information, we are taking this to her abuela. It's her Día del Sendero, and we can't get distracted, so if you'll excuse us.

DON: Her what now?

RED: It's this…family tradition.

DON: (Scoffs:) Heh, what a bunch of rubbish. You're wasting your time if you ask me.

RED: Oh, really? Why?

PAZ: Why?

CORKY: Don't encourage him.

DON: Family is for those feel-good Christmas movies you see on the telly. I had a family once, but they didn't understand my style. Even my own granny told me: (Mocking his granny as if she were the Queen:) "We don't really like what you do, we don't think anyone ever will. No future for you." (Normally:) Well, we beg to differ. So I abandoned them, or they abandoned me, whichever way you like to put it. I'm glad to say though that I don't miss them at all. I only listen to myself now. How about you? What are you rebelling against?

RED: (Re: basket:) Just this.

DON: (Scoffs:) Yeah, justice is blind. Just another false sense of security that keeps the establishment in control.

RED: I have rice.

DON: That's right—you do have rights, but are we given any of them? Just one: the right to remain silent. Too bad for them because I wanna be…anarchy.

    (Don plays a few guitar notes.)

So now you're gonna travel all that way to your granny's just to give her, what, a biscuit or something?

RED: Beans, rice, a slice of pie and her medicine.

    (Corky looks over at Red, surprised to hear about the medicine.)

DON: Aw, well, ain't that sweet?

CORKY: Un momento, por favor.

    (Corky pulls Red aside, crossing away from Don.)

You didn't tell me you were carrying your abuela's medicine.

RED: Why should I?

CORKY: Something like that is kind of important, don't you think?

RED: Sure.

CORKY: (Small beat:) You really don't care about your abuela, do you?

DON: Excuse me, but are you getting paid to do this?

CORKY: This isn't about being paid—it's about honoring our elders by—

DON: Yeah, yeah, all right, but are you gettin' anything out of this?

RED: No. If anything, I'm missing out on a concert tonight.

DON: Oh, really? Which one?

RED: The Jack B. Nimbles.

DON: The Nimbles! They're playing right down at The Beanstalk.

RED: I know!

DON: I'm going there myself.

RED: Are you now?

DON: Of course! They're the only band that matters. Not only that…

    (Don unveils a badge with a concert ticket on one side and a pass on the other.)

RED: (In awe:) A backstage pass.

DON: Backstage and all access. Little tip for the future: Make friends with every single roadie you come across, no matter what the hygiene level may be. Do you happen to have your ticket on you?

RED: It was on my phone until my mom took it away.

DON: Here.

    (Don hands her his phone. Red looks up her ticket.)

How you doing there, mate?

    (Don tousles Corky's hair. Corky hisses.)

RED: There you go.

    (Red shows her ticket to Don.)

DON: Oh, my, my—this seat is pretty high up The Beanstalk, isn't it?

RED: Yeah, well, it's the only thing I could afford. I know: They're beyond nosebleed seats.

DON: More like brain hemorrhage if you ask me.

    (Red and Don laugh. Corky does not.)

Oh come on—we're only having a little bit of fun here.

CORKY: I don't consider this fun.

DON: Then you don't know what you're missing out on. I don't like to live by other people's rules. That's why I live here. I can do anything I want, wake up anytime I want, rock out anytime I want. No geezers telling me what to do, no do-gooders with their guilt trips. It's paradise. Doesn't that sound like paradise to you, love?

RED: In my dreams.

DON: Well, I think it's time you start to dream out loud.