We all have that friend who gets wasted and tells outrageous stories. Comedy Central took this idea even further in Drunk History, a fan favorite that’s now in its sixth season. Capitalizing on Mexicans’ fondness for tequila, mescal, chelas, and all other types of alcoholic beverages, the franchise is expanding to take on the stories of los Estados Unidos Mexicanos. Hosted by Eugenio Derbez, Drunk History Mexico: El Lado Borroso de la Historia features comedians, cartoonists, and YouTube stars slurring their way through historical accounts of their country’s origins.
Most of the tales included in this first season are fairly well known and ripped directly from the history books, while others are spurious, at best. Yet, they take on a different life with loads of Mexican slang and tons of colorful curse words paired with reenactments featuring some notable actors from Mexico and beyond. Though the historical passages included are in their disproportionate majority Mexican, other Latin American countries are also represented: Argentina (Hitler Hiding Place), Chile (Giants of Patagonia), and Colombia (La Pola).
Here are five of the most wildly told stories.
Drunk History Mexico is currently streaming on Pantaya.
Paquito Writes the National Anthem
Narrating with hilarious voices, matching facial expressions, and curse words galore, a wasted Alejandra Ley revisits the story of how the lyrics to the Mexican national anthem came into existence. She introduces writer Francisco González Bocanegra as he reveals to his family that he is a fan of the arts. She goes on to describe improper sexual escapades with his cousin and eventual wife Guadalupe González del Pin Villalpando, who pushed him to enter the anthem contest and locks him up in a dungeon until he’s done. Referring to them as Paquito and Lupe, Ley infuses the stuffy context with sassy commentary, and is so passionate (and drunk) she even breaks a glass. If you take a shot every time Ley utters “no mames,” you’ll be faded before she gets to the truncated end of her segment.
A Heroic Taco Dorado
While heavily intoxicated, Coco Celis attempts to debunk the myth of Los Niños Héroes, a group of young cadets who defended the Chapultepec Castle against the United States army in 1847. First he can’t remember all of their names and then imagines them as grown men who would throw wild parties. His biggest take down is against Juan Escutia (played by a wacky Vadir Derbez) who is said to have grabbed the flag and jumped to his death in order to protect the national symbol from the invaders. However, Celis believes Escutia was as drunk as him and accidentally wrapped himself like a “taco dorado” and fell. It all concludes with the comedian getting emotional and making little sense. It is glorious.
Quetzalcóatl vs. Santa Claus
A truly WTF footnote in Mexican history, which will come as a surprise to many, is President Pascual Ortiz Rubio’s idea to remove gringo influences from the country and heighten nationalism. Mau Nieto (who has his own Netflix special) describes Ortiz and his banda deciding on the approach as a bunch of incompetent bros planning a house party. Soon they found something “gringo as fuck” to get rid of: kicking Santa Claus out of the collective consciousness and replacing him with Quetzalcoatl, the feather serpent that was an Aztec deity. They organized an event on December 23, 1930, to introduce Quetzalcoatl; It it involved dressing someone up like the cool-looking pre-Hispanic god as if it were a sports mascot and bringing in 15,000 kids to meet him. At some point, Nieto’s fictional interpretation of a child ponders whether to write a letter to Quetza or offer his heart as a sacrificial offering. Their efforts fail, but it kind of makes you wish it had stuck. Sending Quetzalcoatl holiday cards would have been so awesome.
La Virgen de Guadalupe Didn’t Come to Play
Laughing for no reason and veering into heartfelt rants, comedian Leo Arriaga is given the blasphemous task of retelling the Catholic legend of how La Virgen de Guadalupe appeared in front of a humble indigenous man, Juan Diego, to demand a temple be built on the Hill of Tepeyac in the early 1500s. Condemning himself out of salvation, Arriaga forgets whether La Guadalupana or actress Veronica Castro are known as ‘the mother of Mexico’ and assumes Juan Diego smoked some holy herbs before the appearance. La Virgen didn’t come to play, referring to herself as a cabrona (via Arriaga’s narration of course), she gives Juan Diego irrefutable proof of their encounter so that Juan de Zumárraga, the priest in charge at the time, believes him. Arriaga’s portrayal of La Virgen as a badass, no-nonsense entity that gets stuff done is one for the books, literally.
Gringo Zombies and Talking Shrooms
After killing a bottle of wine, Cid Vela (also known by his popular character, Galatzia) dives into the life of María Sabina, a woman from Huautla de Jiménez, Oaxaca who became a spiritual guide in the ’60s after trying some hardcore hallucinogenic shrooms, which are represented in the reenactments by men in giant mushroom costumes. Vela throws in some silly conspiracy theories and compares Maria to a Pokémon that evolves when she gets high. Sabina’s loqueron ends when Robert Gordon, a British man, visits her and then publishes a piece on her crazy fungi. Soon after, scores of rabid gringo hippies arrive in Oaxaca desperate to try the shrooms like starving zombies. Legend has it even famous psychedelic figures like Jim Morrison, John Lennon, and Alejandro Jodorowsky were among Sabina’s devotees. It all ended badly when the giant mushrooms got fed up with all the drug-seeking visitors.