Danny Trejo and his buddy (I seemed to be the buddy) were up to some unspecified trouble. In addition to the original trouble, we had stolen a mail truck to get away, then drove it into a ravine while trying to get out of sight from somebody behind us on the road, and somehow didn't get persued. Later when we were in our hideout (a shack in the park at the bottom of the ravine) that person who had been behind us on the road showed up, but either didn't know that we were responsible for $original_trouble, or didn't care. They wanted us to be in a movie. We were thinking about it. I was Looking at my Mexican self in the mirror, thinking "yeah, that's what I look like." But this movie business seemed like a good deal, so it all worked out in the end.