The show's concept is akin to a promising but ultimately underwhelming ride – it falls short when it comes to portraying Scooter, the ostensibly savvy Mexican character, who is unfortunately treated as if he were the village fool. This treatment is rather disheartening, considering Scooter's extensive network of connections, spanning both Mexico and Texas. He deserves more credit than being labeled "el Tonto"; in reality, he operates as the puppet master, deftly pulling strings that the audience might not even be aware of.
The crux of the show revolves around the fascinating process of acquiring cars in Mexico, applying restoration expertise, and dispatching them to U.S. clients. It's a captivating journey, and Scooter, the mastermind behind a myriad of connections, merits more than just a passing acknowledgment. He's essentially the Mexican Elon Musk of the car dealings realm, boasting a network more extensive than the apps on your smartphone. It's about time the show acknowledges Scooter's pivotal role – less reliance on sombrero humor and more recognition for the true engine driving the operation.
However, the show appears to lean more towards comedy than a serious business venture. Scooter, the indispensable Mexican figure, is unfortunately relegated to a sidekick role when, in fact, he should be recognized as the brains behind the entire operation. It's time to afford him the respect he deserves and showcase the depth of Mexican culture rather than reducing it to cheap punchlines.
If a second season is on the horizon, a script revamp is imperative. The show should veer away from the Scooter-centric punchlines and instead shine a spotlight on his business acumen. Let's transition from the comedic detour and offer due credit where it's warranted. After all, watching the show should feel like a seamless journey, not a series of cringe-worthy bumps. Here's hoping for a season that strikes the right chord and places Scooter in the well-deserved spotlight he has earned.