Torero (1956) - full transcript

With the bullfighters:

The life of Luis Procuna.

Adapted for film by:
Hugo Mozo y Carlos Velo.

The bulls are in the bullring,
my name is on the poster.

Tomorrow, Sunday, at
exactly four o'clock

I shall fight another bull.

Once again a bull can get at me,
perhaps even kill me.

On the morning of a bullfight
my first thought is: Will it be windy?

In the bullring, it's bad news.

It ruins my chances when
I'm in front of the bull.

No, there's no wind.



I can have breakfast a little
more easily with my kids.

I love watching them eat everything.

Whereas I just have an orange
and a little broth.

I have to feel weightless.

Frankly when I think about
being gored in the stomach,

fear takes away my appetite.

You want a piece, do you?
Open your mouth. There we are.

Fatty isn't eating.

What? Aren't you hungry?

That's it, very good, very good.

It's delicious.

Go for it, silly, go for it.

That's it, silly boy.

What's the matter with you?
Come on, go for it!



That's the way! Great!

Wait for me, silly!

By playing with them, I try
to forget my worries.

But I don't stop thinking
about the wind.

Later, like every Sunday,

I visit my mother's grave.

And even there, I don't stop
thinking about the bullring.

I imagine how my brother,
Angel, and my manager, Arturo,

are looking at the bulls.

And by this time they will
have drawn lots for them.

- Which one d'you like best? - That one.
- Let him know.

Make him move a little. Hey bull!

You choose, Arturo, let's see
how much luck you have today.

I don't know.

Let's see if we get the one
from Cachuchita.

It'd be the best lot.

It's number 18.

Going to be a good one.

I know they're out there...
waiting for me.

I like keep my worries at bay
with a little music.

While my sword boy slowly
begins to dress me.

For old times? sake

The light of the full moon

shines over the whole pasture...

Good luck. You know
you're our best matador.

You've never let us down
and especially not now.

Your good health, sir!

Let's go.

Hey, good luck Luis, I wish you
all the luck in the world, eh?

Thank you very much.

You look really good from the back.

At least that's something!

Arturo.

Please tell them what
the bulls are like.

They're in great shape with
horns like this, like two bananas.

They're impressive.

They sure are!

The jacket, please.

Two minutes.

Now you'll see what the bulls
are like, Luis.

Gently.
Lift it up.

They want to keep me calm.

But they don't have to go out
into that bullring and I do.

For me...

As the hour gets closer.

I feel more alone every time,
more in the hands of fate.

This Sunday is different
from the others.

My wife is not coming to the bullring
to watch me fight.

For all that she tries to hide it,

she's scared.

Very scared.

Go ahead.

What a marvellous spectacle
we'll have this afternoon,

Three great bullfighters:
Carlos Arosa, Manolo Dosantos

and of course,
that great personality

that controversial figure
who's returning to the bulls

after his much-talked about absence,
Luis Procuna.

And now,

when my mouth is as dry as can be.

I ask myself:

What am I doing here?

Why am I going to the bullring

to confront a bull and the
public one more time?

Why?

And my head fills with memories.

Toro!

I was a kid like this one,
like so many in poor neighbourhoods.

I used to spend Sunday afternoons
playing at bullfighting.

With an old rag for a cape
and a rusted iron weapon for a sword.

Hey, toro!

Ol?!

And even then I had my public.

The rest of the week I worked
in the market.

My work was hard and boring.

And my future could have been this...

or this.

At night I used to help my mother

sell tacos and quesadillas on a corner
in San Juan de Letr?n.

Let's see, give me one
with chorizo and salsa.

Yes, sir. It's hot.

Here, kid.

It's not enough.

Listen, sir, it's another five.

Here you are, go on!

That's how I learned the value
of money and how hard it is to earn.

On the other hand,
if I were a bullfighter...

Bulls are dangerous but
hunger hurts you more.

Years passed.

And from working so hard
I almost forgot about the bulls.

Until one day in a bullpen
near Nonoalco.

I saw Valent?n for the first time.

D'you want fight a bull?

Hold on.

Alright then, take this.

Let's see. Call him,

Hands down, steady.

No, not like that Give it here.

Come with me.

Pay attention.

If you don't know what you're doing,
look what can happen to you.

All those scars are
from serious gorings.

Would you like to be like that?

I'll teach you, look.

Valent?n was a justa beginner,
fighting young bulls.

But for me, he was a titan.

A master who taught me all he knew.

- D'you get it?
- Yes, I do, now. - Your turn.

Dig your heels in since the bulls
come at you with force.

Stand your ground.

Show him where to go.

No, don't lift your hands so much.

Have him come closer to you.

Closer, closer.

Make him stick to you. Once more.

And do it again.

Yes, yes, just like that.

That's it.

I went back there every day.

So anxious to learn
that I wore out my shoes.

We didn't have anything to eat.

But we fooled hunger
with a cigarette.

Let's go, little bull.

Come on, once more. Come on.

Valent?n was tireless.

And his biggest challenge
was to show me

how to manage the cape
with my left hand.

Toro!

Toro, let's go.

Bullfighting is a splendid art
he used to say.

But it's the only art where you pay
for mistakes with your life.

I didn't pay much attention to him
because I didn't yet know what fear was.

We went from the bull pen
to a real bullring.

You're here with your sticks
and here is the bull.

This is your trajectory
and this is the bull's.

When you meet,
lift your arms up.

Let's go.

Leave it to me.

Let's go.

Here he comes. Come on.

Come on.

Confront him, face to face.

Get away from the bull, come on.

After that thrust I thought
I was the greatest of all bullfighters.

Next to the barriers I dreamed

that wearing a suit of lights,

I would see thousands of
handkerchiefs waving at me.

And thousands of voices
shouting out to me:

Torero! What a bullfighter!

Hey, Luis. Come on.

And yet I had never really seen
an actual bull up close.

And Valent?n decided it was time.

Come on, climb up here.

We travelled in a Pullman
and there was plenty of food.

It didn't take long to get
to the ranch where

Lorenzo Garza was holding trials.

Not here, the stick
has to hit the centre.

and must cross the other tip.

The animal is over there,
and you're here.

And the bull is going to
go through there like a train.

- Is he going to fight?
- Of course.

It's one of yours, Lorenzo!

Come on, little one.

Watch out for your
left hand, bullfighter!

Ol?!

Ol?!

Ol?!

That's how it's done!

- My dear Monterey!
- I want to see some energy!

Look how he holds his hand!

With a hand like that you get rich!

At night, with the other
young bullfighters,

we went to the pasture
looking for bulls.

We had to take risks.

- They're over there.
- Shh... don't shout.

If they get hold of us,
they'll hurt us.

Bulls that are provoked learn
from experience and will kill anyone.

"No entry on pain of death"
Don't make a sound.

They're huge, buddy.

This one looks good
but he's really close.

Let?s try him.

Be very careful.

Careful Valent?n. Be careful.

Take this.

Toro!

Come on, toro!

Enough already, Leave him.

- Force him.
- Toro, toro!

Come on, you ugly beast!

Let's go, they've seen us already.

Hey! You idiots!

There they go!

Here they come.

Idiots! Morons!!

Run!

We lost confidence and
went back to the city.

But, that feeling of
hearing the bull snorting,

and being near the tip of a horn

would be impossible for me to forget.

But, there was no way!

I had no option.

I went back to the market
to work hard.

Very hard.

In order to pay a crude manager
who used to help

young bullfighters, if we paid him
instead of getting paid.

You can get good fish here! Fish!

Agreed.

My first contract.

Even though I paid out money rather than
receiving any, it was my first contract.

- Good luck.
- Thank you.

How beautifully the sun shone
that Sunday.

For the first time, I thought,

like all bullfighters:"
I hope there's no wind"

The stockings, the shoes,
the bullfighter's pants

were all rented, but what did it matter,
it was my first suit of lights.

Everyone admired me.

And my mother seemed calm.

While I received my very first ovation.

What a feeling it was
to share the bullring

with other young bullfighters

as full of hope as I was.

The public was waiting,
skeptical, indifferent.

Look.

Let's go.

Hey, toro!

Let's go.

- He's very restrained.
- Let's wait and see what he does.

Get closer, don't be lazy.

Hey, toro, let's go.

He's scared.

Make him pass close to you!

Oh, get out of here!

Go home, you coward, you jerk!

- What's he doing?
- He needs to pay attention.

Torero! Torero!

I was wounded.

And my self-esteem was wounded.

I was lucky.

Valent?n reminded me
that in the bullring

you had to fight two enemies.

The bull and the public.

How right he was!

That was the last piece of advice
he gave me.

A few weeks later,

a bull he provoked,
killed him in Jalisco.

Poor Valent?n.

I continued my fights from bull to bull
from town to town,

Until one day, the rancher
Don Fernando de la Mora.

invited me to his ranch and gave me
a calf to amuse his friends with.

I was lucky.

I caught the attention
of the photographers

and the journalists liked me.

The rancher recommended me
to the manager of the main bullring,

Don Antonio Algara.

They're two phenomenons,
Luis Briones

the best fighter of young
bulls in the world.

And Luisito Procuna, who will give him
a run for his money as soon as he can.

No way!

Algara contracted us to fight together.

The bullring was full,

Briones was the bullfighter of the day
and everyone applauded him.

No one paid any attention to me.

The first bull of the afternoon
was for Briones.

Be careful, don't move him,
I think he's hurt.

Leave him, can't you see he's groggy.

Take him away quickly.

For the public, the bullfight was over.

But, since they had paid to come in,
they stayed to see what I could do.

So there they were once
again, indifferent,

serious, annoyed and impatient.

Get it over with,
we don't want to see you!

Stop clowning around and fight!

Get him out of here!

Go and learn at home!

Throw him out!

Throw him out!

=The kid's pretty good, leave him alone.
for goodness sake!

That's the way!

The knowledgeable ones could see that
nothing had happened to me.

and they began to enjoy the fight.

Toro!

Ah, ah, ah, look!

Hopefully he'll be lucky with the cape.

Ol?, come on.

There!

- Careful with the banderilla.
- Watch him stick them in!

Ol?, they're good bulls.

I had won them over.

And my first fanfare was played.

- Thanks a lot.
- Bravo, long live handsome bullfighters!

Thank you.

Critics and producers were all
around my manager.

Contracts rained down and
my name became known.

I was among the most important
fighters of young bulls.

And journalists hung on
my every word.

No, you'll excuse me when
I toast my girlfriend, Paco.

For you, Consuelo,
queen of my heart.

I adored her and
fortunately I triumphed.

Thank you, thank you.

Thank you very much.

That season was a series of triumphs.

Until the biggest day of all,
the day I became a true bullfighter.

Luis Castro "the soldier"
gave me the matador's equipment.

Finally I achieved my greatest dream.

After so much suffering,

I was a true bullfighter.

I lowered my head to hide my emotion.

The money wasn't important to me.

I had conquered the greatest enemy.

The public.

It was worth being a bullfighter
just to hear such an ovation.

I had to learn how to wear a tuxedo
to receive the trophy for the season.

And afterwards,

I was able to fulfil a sacred promise.

To build a monument for
my mother's tomb with my savings.

To think that while she was alive,

I couldn't even buy her
a cheap pair of shoes.

I missed her so much on my wedding day.

I would so much have liked
to have her at my side.

Make way!

Long live the newly-weds!

What more could I want.

I was married to Chelito.

I had money in the bank and
everyone wanted to see me fight.

I didn't even think about the danger,

Fear and death... were for others,
not for me.

And that's when I went
to Mexico City.

The monster from C?rdoba
Manuel Rodr?guez "Manolete"

is getting off the plane
which brought him to Mexico.

Make way, please make way!

- Friends and public...
- I feel very happy.

have come en masse to welcome him.

Long live Spain!

I feel the affection of all Mexicans.
Long live Mexico!

When they opened the Plaza Mexico
the biggest bullring in the world.

I took turns with Manolete
in front of 50.000 fans.

Chelito this is for you
and hopefully I'll be lucky!

I felt very proud cutting off
the ears of that bull in front of him.

I observed him, doubting that
he had the skill everyone talked about.

The impassioned public,

didn't want to admit
that a foreigner,

a Spaniard, could be
better than a Mexican.

Ol?!

Ol?!

But Manolete triumphed.

Manolete was a master.

How had he managed it?

Ol?!

Ol?!

By the following Sunday, Manolete
was earning 20.000 dollars per fight.

And people were pawning everything
just to go to the bullring.

I, with Arturo, my new manager,

also went to see
the monster from C?rdoba.

He never smiled.

Nevertheless, his dignified
and solemn figure

captivated the public.

Did you realize?

He took something off all the bulls.

With the perfection of his artistry.

And when he wasn't able to triumph
he gave even more of himself and...

Leave him, leave him.

Here, take this.

I suddenly realized that
the bullfighter has three enemies.

The bull, the public and
the bullfighter himself.

And that was the enemy that
Manolete had conquered.

His own fear.

The ears!

I understood his greatness
and I admired him,

just as the public admired him,
as they proclaimed him

the best fighter of the season.

For the best performance and
the best afternoon's entertainment.

Thank you very much.

Finally Lolita del Rio,
our biggest star,

gave Manolete the coveted trophies
and who knows how many hugs.

How adorable!

I would say that in Mexico

even the gorings are pleasant...

Manolete went back to Spain.

But what a problem he left us with!

The band is striking up a tune.

We're all ready to watch
something extraordinary...

I soon had another hero to admire.

He was a tiny little thing,
but he was my son.

- Congratulations, matador.
- Thank you.

- It's your best piece of work.
- He looks like me, doesn't he?

Yes, very much so.

Ah, what a wonderful thing.

Thank you.

He has to be a bullfighter like his dad.
Isn't that what should happen?

A bullfighter? No, I hope
to God he won't be.

How could I show Chelito, my wife,
my happiness with this gift?

In Mexico we say these things
through songs.

Today since it's your saint's day

We will sing to you.

Wake up my sweet, wake up

Look it's already dawn

and the birds are singing.

The moon has left.

How beautiful the morning is

Did you bring them for me?

Today I've come to greet you

For you, my love.

Come up here, come on.

We all came with pleasure

and are happy to congratulate you

From the stars in the sky

I have to take two down

One to greet you,

and the other to say goodbye.

- Does it seem like the first time?
- Yes, we seem like sweethearts.

With jasmin and other flowers

I've come to greet you today.

Since it's your saint's day,

we have come to sing to you.

The art and integrity of Manolete.

Inspired an extraordinary
young bullfighter in Mexico.

Joselillo.

He got in very close just like
the public wants us all to do.

We were great friends.

And I watched him fight
with a lot of anxiety.

Poor Joselillo.

Your fearless courage
could only lead you...

Here.

You gave too much of yourself.

And how quickly they'll forget you.

One night, when I was waiting
for a call from Madrid about a contract

No. No.

Yes.

A bull had killed, the best,
the greatest matador of all.

I didn't want to believe it.
It just wasn't possible.

A friend sent me pictures of the tragedy
that I needed to see on my own.

The whole of Spain was in mourning.

Accompanying a mother's grief.

A Mexican bullfighter,
Luis Castro, my sponsor,

helped to carry Monolete's coffin

Just like I had carried Joselillo's.

Here.

In this bullring just a week earlier.

They had insulted him

and thrown cushions at him yelling
that he should get closer.

Now, it was too late.

They were all throwing flowers.

My contracts in Spain were signed
and I went to fulfil them.

I fought in the Madrid bullring.

Jesus!

Hey, toro, hey, toro.

Out! Out! everybody out!
The cape, give me the cape! Get out!

- Take cover! Get out!
- You can't do it! He's got your number.

- Leave me alone! - But, Luis.
- Stop now, get out!

And so my season in Spain
finished with blood and applause..

I didn't want to go back to Mexico
without visiting my friend.

Manolete.

For the first time an idea struck me.

If a bull had killed him,

why couldn't it happen
to me one day.

How do you feel?

I'm better now. How are the kids?

- Good.
- Look at the camera.

- Thank you.
- You're welcome.

=They're waiting for you at home.

You're looking great!

I was still recuperating but
I had several contracts to fulfil.

And I put myself through
some rigourous training,

to get some strength back
in my ruined muscles.

There, in the same bullring,
as I had begun.

A new generation was coming up
trying to push us out.

They were calling me " Master" now.

And I soon thought it would be easy
to go back to fighting.

Hey, toro!

This can't be happening!

I've got him! I've got him!

This can't be, gentlemen!
You're robbing us blind, get out!

Closer, get closer...

Closer, get closer!

Get in there!

What was happening to me?

I was scared.

Very scared and they wanted more.

What shall I do, blessed virgin,
what shall I do?.

Get in there!

Procuna, why won't you get closer?

Closer!

Closer!

Get in closer for goodness sake!

Come on, let's go!

Many days later.

They gave me the big goring.

Iodine.

Oxygen, more oxygen.

Thank you.

The wound healed over but
the pain didn't go away.

Listening to my kids ?laughter,

I thought perhaps I wouldn't
live to see them grow up.

What did I need?

Didn't I have everything?

I would get away from bulls...
for a season.

I took it easy, enjoyed life.

Enjoyed fresh air and sunshine
with no risk.

I read and I travelled.

There were so many things
I had never taken the time to learn.

- That's Luis Procuna.
- Yes.

But even here, admiring Goya,
I ran into them once again.

Furious bulls,
The brutal charge.

The bloody goring.

I couldn't forget them.

I carried them with me.

I wanted to see them again.

- How do they seem to you?
- I like that one.

They're all magnificent!

Just like this, from a distance,
is how I wanted to see them.

Knowing that they weren't for me.

Yes, it was better to have fancy clothes
dancing and partying. And to forget.

Drink up, buddy!

Drink up. It's good, isn't it?

Yes, it's good.

Delicious, isn't it?

Let's go, buddy

The cowboys are coming
to the competition.

The cowboys are coming
to the competition.

Scratching their dusty horses.

With shining spurs and
well dressed in their leathers.

The cowboys are coming
to the competition.

They are coming
to begin competing.

Keep dancing!

The young bulls are coming,
The horses are snorting

He's shy!

Spotted young bull.
Fierce young bull.

Make him run, make him run,
make him go further.

Spur him on my horse, spur him on.

Give it to him!

That's what I like to see,
long live the women from my country!

- Ay, ay, ay, beautiful young woman.
- Hey toro!

We can already ride you, bull.

We've got your measure, bull

I'm going to hold you down you
like you deserve.

That's how I run in the meadow
knowing where I'm going to send you

You little bull, I can ride you.

The cowboys are coming
to start the competition.

The young bulls are there.
The horses are snorting.

Spotted young bull.
Fierce young bull.

Make him run, push him hard.

You're my dark-skinned prize,
I want a prisoner.

Spur him on, spur him on.

Give it to him!

Put out his lights!

When I got back to the city,
I wanted to buy my wife a gift.

I had a lot of money and
I liked spending it.

I got these bracelets ready,
Se?or Procuna.

This is the one I prefer, Chelito.

Do you like it?

It's exquisite.

But it will be very expensive.

It's for Se?ora Procuna.

This is the life.

No bulls, no public, no fear.

- I'd like to see you fight.
- Me.

- Yes.
- Bulls.

The bulls...

Eh, for... for me... they don't like me.

- Let's drink to that.
- Cheers!

Perhaps I would never fight again.

Hey, Arturo, what's new?

This.

Look.

Let's see.

"Procuna now a millionaire
and running scared, should retire."

What do you think?

But, why do they say such things?

The public says I'm afraid
to go back to bullfighting.

The public is in charge, yes.

And I owe them everything.

But in exchange

didn't I give them my youth.

Why can't I retire if I want to?

- He retired out of fear.
- Yes, he's hiding away in his house.

Procuna won't even wear his suit
of lights to have his picture taken.

- I always knew it.
- Sure, and I always supported him.

Look what it says here!

Today's paper! Today's paper!

With Procuna's retirement!

It's a given that
we can't count on Luis Procuna

for the next season.

And it's better for the fans
because Luis is..

so desperately scared that
he won't go out except if you pay him.

He'll jump head first into the gully
after the parade.

Luis Procuna is a bullfighter
dominated by fear.

And with fear, gentlemen,
you can't be in the bullring.

Yes, I'm scared.

Just thinking about
getting close to a bull

makes the stitches
of my gorings hurt.

It's true that I'm afraid.

And it's also true that
I have enough money to not die here.

Crushed like a beast of burden.

To never again have to live
in the poverty I was born into.

So, what did I want?

To triumph just to be rich.

Why had I fought so much? Why?

Just so I wouldn't have to live
where my mother lived and died.

I've achieved all my dreams.

I'm rich and famous.

Why am I not happy?

Look at me, take this!

Look at me, let's go, toro! Let's go!

Think about it, but I don't think
you should let them keep on talking.

About whether Procuna does this,
or Procuna does that.

I'll do whatever you want but...

you're going risk your
life every Sunday

while they're calling you
scared and cowardly.

Coward!

I have to make a decision
and to face up to reality.

I'm not a coward!

I have to be alone
in the bullring once more.

I have to conquer the bull.

Conquer the public and vanquish my fear.

To know that I'm the
strongest of the three.

That's why I want to fight.

That's why I want to live.

That's why I'm here.

The front row seats
are completely full.

There's such a crowd there's
not room for one more single soul.

How are you Luis? Good luck!
How's it going?

Just like always.

Good luck, Luisito.

Thank you, thank you. Thanks everyone.

Virgin of Guadalupe, please
let me go home to my children.

Protect me, my Lady.

Let's go up there, boys.
We can see the bullfighters from there.

The three of them are
at the door in a group

The three stars who are
on the program this afternoon.

Three extraordinary personalities,

who are fighting together
for the first time in Mexico.

"The man from Portugal"
Manolo Dosantos.

"The Cyclone" Carlos Arusa.

And "The Pronghorn" Luis Procuna
who's appearing again

after a prolonged
absence from the ring.

Ladies and gentleman,
good afternoon

Yes, sir!

It's only a few minutes
until the trumpets sound

and the public starts
to have a really good time.

Over there in the sun,
the classic sombrero is being tossed.

Dosantos, in his golden year,
is fighting like an angel.

With such ease, such grace,
such steadiness,

such astonishing elegance!

Very good, isn't he?

He really fights well.

Dosantos is an idol
for the public.

- Did you see how he fights?
- Fantastic!

Let him go, let him go!

Arusa is irresistible.

Intimidating, invincible!

Hating other people's triumphs,
wanting the most

acclaim for himself.

Marvellous and masterly
at every stage of the fight.

A unique banderiller0,
quite extraordinary.

He's like a mad dog with the cape.

Determined to overcome his opponents.

Putting himself within two millimetres
of the tips of the horns,

Hey!

Careful!

50.000 fans cheer this
terrific bullfighter

on one of his
glorious afternoons.

And now it's Procuna's turn.

A very boisterous fighting bull
jumped straight into the gully.

But Procuna is not having
one of his most inspired days.

Visibly out of shape.

Taking it too carefully.
You can hear what they think!

It seems that he's going to have
one of his frequent bad afternoons.

You piece of crap!

The sword!

Give me the cape!

Procuna, don't run yet!

Procuna, get in close to him!

That's enough Procuna!
Gentlemen it's just not right!

Get out!

You'd better leave!

Trying to get out the way Procuna
gets a horrible puncture wound.

Go away, you coward, get out!

And the indignation builds.

The anger becomes organized and
takes on gigantic proportions.

"Attention, attention, please"

"The Judge has declared
that the bullfighter, Luis Procuna.

"For his pathetic performance.

Will be fined
the amount of 5.000 pesos."

Come on,
don't pay any attention to them.

Well my friends,
that's the end of the bullfight.

And the end of a career
for a bullfighter who was an idol.

Who was great and greatly loved.

But who has lost his way,
his courage and his sense of shame.

Procuna you're a thief!

You're despicable, you're vile!

Come on, what are we waiting for?

Let's go!

Just a moment, something's happening,
Procuna is talking to his people.

Let's see what it's all about.

- How are the reserve bulls?
- There's one really good one.

O.K. go ask for it.

- Can I offer you one?
- Yes.

He wants another one.
Shall we give it to him?

Sure.

One.

Another one, come on.

Let go of him.

"Attention, attention.

The skilled Luis Procuna,

is giving us a bull.

Luis Procuna, is giving us a bull."

Leave him to me.

The bull bravely charges at a picador.

And we see an emotional Luis Procuna
leading the bull away in timely fashion.

With beautiful, artistic moves.

Ol?!

- Water, water.
- Let's see.

Let the doctor see you.

It's nothing,
there's nothing the matter.

Come on.

Calm down, Luis, calm down, let's go.

Chamaquito!

And now Procuna is toasting
the judge who just fined him.

For you.

He takes the cape in his right hand

And goes to find the bull.

He's glued to one spot in the ring,
completely alone.

He's slow and elegant.

And now, with his left hand.

Mexico has got it's idol back.

It's favourite bullfighter.

Torero! Torero!

Torero!

Torero!

Wait for him here.

My love.

I'm with my family again.

But, what about next Sunday...