Saying “Mucha mierda” (“a lot of shit”) is a way to wish someone good luck, similar to “Break a leg!”

[Scene: A café in Valencia, sunny afternoon. The two friends sit at a terrace table, sipping cortados.]

Lucía: (leaning forward dramatically)
Carlos, por favor, before your big presentation tomorrow, let me just say it — mucha mierda.

Carlos: (chuckles, raising an eyebrow)
Lucía, I still can’t believe you keep saying that with a straight face. “A lot of shit”? That’s your idea of good luck?

Lucía: ¡Claro que sí! It’s tradition! Do you know how that started? Back in the days of the theater — when people arrived in carriages — if there was a lot of horse manure outside, it meant many people had come to see the show. So, mucha mierda meant a full house. Success!

Carlos: I get the history. But you do realize that the presence of literal horse droppings isn’t exactly a scientific indicator of future success anymore, right? These days, it just sounds like you’re cursing someone with intestinal problems.

Lucía: (grinning)
Only you would say that. You’re like a walking science textbook with no poetry in your soul.

Carlos: Hey, I like poetry. I just prefer when it doesn’t involve feces. Look, I’m not saying traditions are bad. They’re charming. But there’s no real evidence that saying “mucha mierda” changes the outcome of anything.

Lucía: Oh, but it does! Last year, remember my cousin Pilar? She was auditioning for that musical — she was terrified. I said “mucha mierda” three times, she got the part! Coincidence? I think not.

Carlos: Or maybe Pilar is just talented and nailed the audition? You could’ve said “banana pancake” and the result would’ve been the same.

Lucía: Banana pancake doesn’t carry centuries of theatrical energy behind it.

Carlos: Neither does actual poop.

Lucía: You scientists are so clinical. Not everything has to be measurable. Traditions carry emotional weight, and that affects confidence. Saying “mucha mierda” is like a little ritual — it comforts people. Helps them feel supported.

Carlos: Okay, I’ll give you that. Confidence does influence performance. Placebo effect and all. But you don’t need superstition to create that. You could say, “You’ve got this!” or “You’re amazing!” without invoking… well, excrement.

Lucía: But where’s the flair in that? Where’s the drama? Theater people love their weird little sayings. It connects us — like a secret language. Would you tell astronauts to stop saying “Godspeed”? Or stop pilots from doing those little pre-flight routines?

Carlos: Hmm. Fair. Rituals do have psychological benefits. But I just wish people would understand that the power is in their mind, not in the phrase. You’re not conjuring success with magical manure.

Lucía: Maybe not. But if it helps, and it doesn’t hurt, what’s the harm?

Carlos: I suppose there’s no harm. Unless someone starts smearing actual shit on a stage for good luck.

Lucía: ¡Puaj! Qué asco! Of course not. We’re not animals. It’s symbolic, not literal.

Carlos: Then maybe we can agree: you can keep saying it, but promise you won’t sprinkle anything for authenticity.

Lucía: Deal. And tomorrow, before your presentation, expect a big, warm, heartfelt… mucha mierda from me.

Carlos: (laughing)
Thanks, Lucía. I’ll take it — metaphorically.

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[They clink their cortado glasses and sip in peace, both content in their friendly stalemate.]