Conga

Come on, shake your body, baby, do the conga
I know you can’t control yourself any longer
Come on, shake your body, baby, do the conga
I know you can’t control yourself any longer
Come hear the song!
Emilio!
Come on, come hear the song!
What is this?
That is a Yamaka.
I know what a Yamaka is, Emilio. I recall wearing one to my Bar Mitzvah.
Okay, okay, good! Well, that’s exactly where I’m taking you!
You’re taking me to Ronkonkoma in 1961?
No, no! We’re playing at a Bar Mitzvah. Come hear the song!
Okay, let me think about it… No!
Everybody gather 'round now
Let your body feel the heat
Don’t you worry if you can’t dance
Let the music move your feet
It’s the rhythm of the island
And like sugarcane, so sweet
If you want to do the conga
You’ve got to listen to the beat
Come on, shake your body, baby, do the conga
I know you can’t control yourself any longer
Feel the rhythm of the music getting stronger
Don’t you fight it 'til you’ve tried it, do the conga beat
Come hear the song!
Leave me alone!
Phil…
What?
Is that guacamole on your face?
No!
(Emilio takes some and tastes it.)
It needs cilantro
It’s avocado. The vitamin E from the pit of it-- ugh! What do you want?!
I want you to come hear the song!
Why? Where you playing tonight? An Italian wedding?
No! Okay, yes.
Ugh, come on!
Feel the fire of desire
As you dance the night away
'Cause tonight we’re gonna party
'Til we see the break of day
Better get yourself together
And hold on to what you got
Once the music hits your system
There’s no way you’re gonna stop
Come on, shake your body, baby, do the conga
I know you can’t control yourself any longer
Feel the rhythm of the music getting stronger
Don’t you fight it 'til you’ve tried it, do the conga
Come on, shake your body, baby, do the conga
I know you can’t control yourself any longer
Feel the rhythm of the music getting stronger
Don’t you fight it 'til you’ve tried it, do the conga beat
C’mon, Phil! You know I’m not gonna leave you alone.
Emilio, for the last time I’m telling you that I--
(High-pitched sounds.)
Oh my God, what’s making that sound?
That’s my wife.
Wow.
Yeah…
We’re playing at a Shriners convention.
You’ve gotta be kidding me!
In Las Vegas!
(Another high-pitched sound from Phil’s wife.)
Go get my bag! ¡Que maldición!
Everybody!
Conga!
Shake your body
Conga!
Shake your body
Conga!
Shake your body
Conga!
Shake your body
Conga!
Conga!
Come on, shake your body, baby, do the conga
I know you can’t control yourself any longer
Feel the rhythm of the music getting stronger
Don’t you fight it 'til you’ve tried it, do the conga
Come on, shake your body, baby, do the conga
I know you can’t control yourself any longer
Feel the rhythm of the music getting stronger
Don’t you fight it 'til you’ve tried it, do the conga
Come on, shake your body, baby, do the conga
I know you can’t control yourself any longer
Feel the rhythm of the music getting stronger
Don’t you fight it 'til you’ve tried it, do the conga
Come on, shake your body, baby, do the conga
I know you can’t control yourself any longer
Feel the rhythm of the music getting stronger
Shake your body
Shake your body
Shake your body
Come on, shake your body, baby, do the conga
I wanna push Gloria out front.
She is out front.
No, no, no. Gloria Estefan and the Miami Sound Machine. I’m gonna talk to
Warner.
I’ll talk to him, not you.
Why not me?
Because when he says no, you’re just gonna lose your temper.
Why would he say no?
Why? Because he’s gonna say we already have a brand, the Miami Sound Machine.
He’s gonna say that female fronts don’t work.
I say young boys want her, young girls want to be her. With her out front,
we could take this band to places the Sound Machine could never dream of!
And if you take your head out of your ass you’d realize that she is the brand!
No offense!
So, I’ll talk to Warren?
Yeah. Good idea.