Idecided to eat only half of the acid.
But I spilled the rest on the sleeve of my red woollen shirt.
[distorted] What's the trouble?.
Well, all this white stuff on my sleeve...
is LSD.
With a bit of luckk, his life was ruined forever,
always thinkking that just behind some narrow door in all his favourite bars,
men in red shirts are getting incredible kkickks from things he'll never kknow.
Strange memories on this nervous night in Las Vegas.
Has it been five years?. Six?.
It seems likke a lifetime,
the kkind of peakk that never comes again.
San Francisco in the middle '60s
was a very special time and place to be a part of.
But no explanation, no mix of words or music or memories
can touch that sense of kknowing that you were there and alive
in that corner of time in the world, whatever it meant.
There was madness in any direction, at any hour.
You could strikke sparkks anywhere.
There was a fantastic sense that whatever we were doing was right,
that we were winning.
And that, I thinkk, was the handle.
That sense of inevitable victory over the forces of old and evil.
Not in any mean or military sense. We didn 't need that.
Our energy would simply prevail.
We had all the momentum.
We were riding the crest of a high and beautiful wave.
So now, less than five years later,
you can go up on a steep hill in Las Vegas and lookk west,
and with the right kkind of eyes,
you can almost see the high-water markk,
that place where the wave finally brokke and rolled backk.
[? Three Dog Night: Mama Told Me (Not To Come)]
[buzzer]
Room service.
Good morning, sir.
What do you want?.
What do you want?. Get out!
This is not mine. You're in the wrong room. Get out.
I've got a gun. It's not mine.
- Uh... - What?.
- The bill... Will you sign?. - AII right. Hurry up.
Don't move, man. Be very still.
Say nothing to no one, man.
The decision to flee came suddenly.
Or maybe not.
Maybe I'd planned it all along,
subconsciously waiting for the right moment.
The bill was a factor, I thinkk, because I had no money to pay for it.
Our room service tabs had been somewhere between $29 and $36 per hour
for 48 consecutive hours.
Incredible. How could it happen?.
By the time I askked this question, there was no one around to answer it.
That rotten attorney of mine, Dr Gonzo, was gone.
He must have sensed trouble.
Hm...
A "Z"?.
Panic.
It crept up my spine likke first-rising vibes of an acid frenzy.
All these horrible realities began to dawn on me.
Here I was, alone in Las Vegas, completely twisted on drugs,
no cash, no story for the magazine,
and on top of everything else, I had a gigantic goddamn hotel bill to deal with.
I didn 't even kknow who'd won the race. Maybe nobody.
How would Horatio Alger have handled this situation?.
Stay calm. Stay calm.
I'm a relatively respectable citizen.
Multiple felon, perhaps, but certainly not dangerous.
Luckkily, I had takken the soap and grapefruit out to the car earlier.
Now it was only a matter of slipping the noose.
Hey, wait. Here. Take this.
Mr Duke! Mr Duke!
Oh!
- We've been Iooking for you. - The game was up. They had me.
Many fine books have been written in prison.
- Sir?. - What?.
This telegram came for you. Actually, it's for somebody named Thompson.
But it says, "Care of Raoul Duke." Do you... Does that mean anything?.
Yes, it means a Iot. Thanks.
I checked the register for this man Thompson.
- I figured he might be part of your team. - He is. I'II get it to him.
What confused us was Dr Gonzo's signature on the telegram from LA,
- when we knew he was in the hotel. - You did the right thing.
Never try to understand a press message.
We use codes. Especially with Dr Gonzo. See you.
Tell me...
- When will the doctor be awake?. - What do you mean?.
Well... My manager, Mr Heem, would Iike to meet him.
It's nothing unusual.
Mr Heem Iikes to meet all of our Iarge accounts.
Put them on a personal basis. Just a chat and a handshake. You understand.
Of course. But Ieave the doctor alone until afyer he's eaten his breakfast.
He's a very crude man. Jesus God!
No!
But he will be available, maybe Iater this morning?.
Look, the telegram is actually all scrambled.
It's actually from Thompson, not to him, all right?.
I've got to go. I've got to get to the race.
- But the race is over. - Not for me.
Well...
- Let's have Iunch! - Righty-ho, man, righty-ho.
[Bob Dylan] ? Now the brickks lay on Grand Street...
[Dukke] Jesus. Bad waves of paranoia. Madness. Fear and loathing.
Intolerable vibrations in this place. Get out!
The weasels were closing in. I could smell the ugly brutes.
Lord, just give me five more hours before you bring the hammer down.
Just let me get rid of this goddamn car and off this horrible desert.
? Oh, Mama
? Is this really the end?.
- ? To be stuckk... - Oh, you evil bastard.
This is your work.
You better take care of me, Lord. If you don't, you'II have me on your hands.
[siren]
- Pull over! - Good morning. How are you?.
AII right, man. Doing very well.
Few people understand the psychology of dealing with a traffic cop.
Your normal speeder will panic and immediately pull over to the side.
This is wrong. It arouses contempt in the cop heart.
Makke the bastard chase you. He will follow.
But he won 't understand your signal that says you're turning right.
This is to let him kknow you're pulling off for a proper place to talkk.
It'll takke him a moment to realise he's about to makke a 1 80-degree turn.
You will be ready for it, braced for the Gs and the fast heel-toe.
Shit!
Hi. How are you?.
Just what in the hell did you think you were doing?. I want to know.
- Let me see your Iicence. - Yeah, of course.
Right here.
Oh, my gosh.
It's me.
May I please have that?.
I kknew I was fuckked.
We have two cases of beer,
a basket of grapefruit, a stack of T-shirts and towels, Iight bulbs.
Do you realise what you did?.
I know. I'm guilty. I understand that.
I knew it was a crime. I did it anyway.
Why argue?. I'm a fucking criminal. Look at me.
- You have a strange attitude. - Maybe.
You know, I have a feeling you need to take a nap.
There's a rest area just up ahead.
Go up there, pull over and get a few hours' sleep.
That's not gonna help me. I've been awake for three or four nights.
Can't remember. I go to sleep now, I'm dead for 20 hours.
What are you carrying two cases of soap for, son?.
I want to stay clean.
No. Here's how it is.
What I put in my book as of noon
is that I apprehended you for driving too fast.
I advised you to proceed to the next rest area. Stop!
I advised you to proceed to the next rest area,
your stated destination, right?.
And take a Iong nap.
Do I make myself clear?.
Well... How far is Baker?.
I was sort of hoping to stop there for Iunch.
Not in my jurisdiction. City Iimits end 2.2 miles beyond the rest area.
- Can you make it that far?. - I'II try.
I've been wanting to go to Baker for a Iong time.
I've heard a Iot about it.
Excellent seafood.
You know, I'm thinking a guy with your kind of mind
ought to try the Iand-crab.
- Excellent seafood. - Land-crab.
AII right. Fair enough.
Thanks for the tip.
Look at me in the eyes.
Everything all right?.
May I have a Iittle kiss before you go?.
I'm very Ionely here.
? Oh, Mama, can this really be the end?.
[Dukke] I felt raped. The pig had done me on all fronts.
Now he was going off to chuckkle about it,
waiting for me to makke a run for LA.
Why, yes. Of course I'll takke advantage of that rest area.
I can 't tell you how grateful I am for this breakk you want to give me.
Get a grip, man.
If I boom straight for LA, he'll bust me for sure.
No. This was not the time for a showdown.
This was Death Valley.
Oh, fuck! Sweet Jesus, it's him.
Oh, my God!
[engine splutters]
Shit! Come on, you fucking bastard!
Oh, God, oh, God! I've got to go.
They've nailed me, goddamn it. I'm stuck in some desert crossroads called Baker.
I don't have much time. They'II hunt me down Iike a fucking beast.
- You sound a little paranoid. - I need a fucking Iawyer!
What are you doing?. Didn't you get my telegram?.
What telegram, you worthless bastard?. I'II cripple your ass for this.
You're supposed to be in Vegas. I rented a suite at the FIamingo.
You're supposed to be covering the National District Attorney's conference.
I made all the reservations. Everything is arranged.
What the fuck are you doing in the middle of the desert?.
Nothing. Never mind. It's all a big joke.
I'm actually... I'm poolside at the FIamingo right now,
talking into a portable phone some dwarf brought out.
I have total credit here. Don't come. Foreigners aren't welcome here.
Well, this is how the world workks.
All energy flows according to the whims of the Great Magnet.
What a fool I was to defy him.
I was going backk to Vegas. I had no choice.
I had to get rid of the Sharkk. Too many people might recognise it.
Especially the Vegas police.
Luckkily, my credit card was still technically valid.
This was a superior machine.
Ten grand worth of gimmickks and high-price special effects.
The rear windows leapt up likke frogs in a dynamite pond.
The dashboard was full of esoteric lights and dials and meters
that I would never understand.
If the pigs were gathering in Vegas,
I felt the drug culture should be represented as well.
And there was a bent appeal in the notion
of running a burn on one Las Vegas hotel
and then wheeling across town and checkking into another.
Me and 1, 000 rankking cops from all over America.
Why not?. Move confidently into their midst.
Welcome to the FIamingo Hotel, sir.
[squeals then clears throat]
- Sir?. - Hi. Right. OK.
? Let me stay in your arms
? I'm addicted to your charms
? You're getting to be a habit with me
? I used to thinkk your love was something that I could takke...
[Dukke] My arrival was badly timed.
? I couldn 't do without my supplies
? I need you for my own...
[chatter]
Used on them Iittle peckerheads down near Penn State.
I am a police chief from Michigan.
I have explained to you.
I have this postcard which says I have a reservation in this hotel.
I'm very sorry, sir, but you're on the Iate Iist.
So, your reservation has been transferred to...
the...
Moonlight Motel out on Paradise Boulevard.
We've already paid for our room.
It's a very fine place of Iodging and it's only 1 6 blocks from here.
It has a pool, sauna, steam...
Listen to me, you filthy faggot! I want a manager down here!
Now! Now! Now! I'm sick of Iistening to your dog shit!
I am very sorry, sir.
- Get off of me! - Can I call you a cab?.
Sure. I'II call you a cock sucker.
I heard what the clerkk was really saying.
Listen, you fuzzy Iittle shithead!
I've been fucked around in my time
by a fairly good cross-section of mean-tempered, rule-crazy cops.
And now... it's my turn.
So fuck you, Officer. I'm in charge.
I hate to interrupt, but could I just slide on through and get out of your way?.
Name is Duke, Raoul Duke. My attorney made the reservations.
Duke, Raoul.
- [rings bell] - Certainly, sir.
My bags are out there in that white Cadillac convertible.
Maybe somebody could bring them to the room for me. Uh...
Let me get a quart of Wild Turkey, two fifyhs of Bacardi,
a bag of ice for the room and... Let's try some Iime chunks.
I say OK.
Now, you don't worry about a thing.
You don't hesitate to call me. Sven.
AII right, Sven. Thank you very much.
- You...you... - I know, I know. It's hideous.
You'II be fine, though. You're doing well.
Don't touch it. Pardon me. Nice one.
Look what you did! Look what you did!
Goddamn you! We wouldn't stay in this hotel if you begged us!
? Magic moments
? When two hearts are caring
? Magic moments
? Memories we've been sharing...
Home sweet home. What kind of...
Oh, shit! God AImighty!
Shit! What the fuck?. Stop it!
She's biting my Ieg off! You degenerate pig.
- Can't be helped. - My fucking Ieg!
Lucy in the sky with diamonds.
Lucy, be cool, goddamn it.
Remember what happened at the airport, OK?. Come on.
No more of that, OK?. That's my client, Lucy.
That's Mr Duke, the famous journalist.
He's paying for the suite, Lucy. He's on our side.
He Ioves artists.
Lucy paints portraits of Barbra Streisand.
Right?.
- I do these from TV. - Really?.
She came all the way down... What's the name of that town?.
- Montana. - Montana.
Just to give these portraits to Barbra.
We're going over to the Americana tonight to meet her backstage.
I desperately needed peace. Rest. Sanctuary.
I hadn't counted on this,
finding my attorney on acid and lockked into some kkind of courtship.
Well...
They must have brought the car around by now.
So...
Why don't... ou-yay and I-yay...
o-gay and et-gay the uff-stay
out of the unk-tray?.
Absolutely.
Let's get the stuff.
We'II be right back, Lucy.
Give me a kiss. One kiss.
- No! - One kiss! Why not?.
OK.
Don't answer the phone.
God bless.
Well, what are your plans?.
- PIans?. - The child in the bedroom.
Oh, Lucy. I met her on the plane.
Yeah. She's a religious freak.
I gave her a cap before I realised...
Jesus, she's never even had a drink before.
Well, we'II keep her Ioaded and then peddle her ass at the drug convention.
She's perfect for this gig.
Cops will go 50 bucks a head to beat her and gang-fuck her.
We can set her up in a motel, hang pictures of Jesus over the room,
then turn these fucking pigs Ioose on her.
She's strong, man. She'II hold her own.
Jesus Christ, I knew you were sick,
but I never expected to hear you say that kind of stuff, you filthy bastard.
Straight economics, man. This girl's a godsend.
- She could make us a grand a day. - That's ugly, man.
Stop talking Iike that.
She can do about four at a time.
If you keep her full of acid, that's more Iike two grand a day. Maybe three.
What if I just jump on you and beat the dog shit out of you?.
Would that make you feel better, you filthy bastard?.
AII right, Iisten to me.
In a few hours she'II be sane enough to work herself into a towering rage
at the hazy recollection of being seduced by some kind of cruel Samoan
who fed her Iiquor and LSD, dragged her into a Vegas hotel room,
and then savagely penetrated every orifice in her Iittle body
with his throbbing, uncircumcised member.
- That's so ugly, man! - Truth hurts.
That's... Oh! Oh!
That's... Oh! Oh! That's... Oh!
[Duke] Oh!
I wanted to help her, man.
Well, you'II go straight to the gas chamber for this one.
Even if you beat that, they'II still get you for rape and consensual sodomy.
No, she's gotta go, man.
Shit.
It doesn't pay to try to help somebody these days, huh?.
Yeah. Americana Hotel?. I need a reservation...for my... niece.
I want her treated very gently. She's an artist...
Fuck off!
She may seem a trifle high-strung.
She's doing her masters thesis on... Barbra Streisand.
Last name?. I'd rather not say.
My brother's in politics. You understand.
I felt likke a Nazi, but it had to be done.
Yeah. Right. OK. Bye.
? Yummy, yummy, yummy, I got love in my tummy
- ? And I feel likke lovin' you - [horn blares]
? Love is such a sweet thing, good-enough-to-eat thing
? And it's just-a what I'm gonna do...
[Dukke] Lucy was a potentially fatal millstone on both our neckks.
There was absolutely no choice but to cut her adrift
and hope her memory was fuckked.
Here's an extra ten bucks. Make sure she gets there safe.
Hmm-mmm... uh...
Uh!
That's that.
Take off slowly. Don't attract attention.
? Yummy, yummy, yummy, I got love in my tummy...
[Duke hums]
Let's find a seafood restaurant and eat red salmon. I feel a Iust for red salmon.
We're gonna be Iate. We've gotta go.
Goddamn mescaline.
Why the fuck can't they make it a Iittle Iess pure?.
I welcome you to the Third National DA's Convention
on Narcotics and Dangerous Drugs.
And now, without further ado,
the man who will define this cancer eating at the heart of America,
Dr L Ron Bumquist.
I didn't believe the bastards in Easy Riderwere real.
Not Iike this, man. Not hundreds of them.
They're nice once you get to know them.
Know them?. I know these people in my goddamn blood.
Don't say that word around here. You'II get them excited.
The most efficient way for us to do this is for each one of us
to try and attempt to imagine what it is Iike inside
of the possessed mind of the addict.
For example, a dope fiend
refers to the reefer butt as a roach,
because it resembles a cockroach.
[Gonzo] What the fuck?.
You've got to be crazy on acid to think a joint Iooks Iike a goddamn cockroach.
You will notice that I have distinguished four...
four distinct states of being
in the cannabis or marijuana society.
They are cool, groovy, hip and square.
Seldom, if ever...
You're too crazy, man. They're gonna shoot you down.
What a fucking nightmare.
If he figures out what is happening,
he can rise one notch and become hip.
- Then, if he can convince himself... - [pills clatter on floor]
..to approve of what is happening,
then he becomes groovy.
Groovy.
And then afyer that, he can actually raise himself to the rank of cool.
He can become one of those... cool guys.
[man] Dr Bumquist.
Do you think the anthropologist Margaret Mead's strange behaviour of Iate
could be explained by a private marijuana addiction?.
Good question.
I'm not really sure I can answer that.
But what I can tell you, sir, is if Margaret Mead, at her age,
smoked grass...
she'd have one hell of a trip!
[Iaughs raucously]
One more Iayer of deviance...
This is fucking bullshit. I'II be down at the casino.
- [peals of Iaughter] - Man, I have to get out!
Thank you very much. Thank you.
Thank you for having me.
- Excuse me. - AII right.
[narrator] Know your dope fiend. Your life may depend on it.
You will not be able to see his eyes because of tea-shades,
but his kknuckkles will be white from inner tension,
and his pants will be crusted with semen
from constantly jackking off when he can 't find a rape victim.
He will stagger and babble when questioned.
He will not respect your badge.
The dope fiend fears nothing.
He will attackk for no reason with every weapon at his command,
including yours.
Beware.
Any officer apprehending a suspected marijuana addict
should use all necessary force immediately.
One stitch in time, on him, will usually save nine, on you.
[echoes] On you...
Oh, God, oh, God. Shit, shit, shit, shit.
Oh, God, oh, God.
[phone rings]
- Yeah?. - Mr Duke, you have one message.
Call Lucy at the Americana Hotel.
- Room 1 600. - [Gonzo roars]
Hello?.
Lucy called.
[toilet flushes]
- What?. - Lucy called.
[phone rings]
[continues to ring]
Those men in the dock...
They gave me the LSD and they took me to the hotel.
I don't know what they done to me but I remember it was horrible.
- They gave you what?. - LSD.
Castration!
Double castration!
- Where's my.357?. - Fuck knows, man.
[car horn blares]
You can't Ieave me alone in this snake pit.
You bastard. What did you do with my.357?.
- This room is in my name. - Tough titty, man.
OK, goddamn it.
You're right. She's my problem. I'II call her. I'II get her off our backs.
- It's gone too fucking far, man. - I'II take that into consideration.
Relax. Let me handle this.
- Where are my shoes?. - The Americana Hotel, room 1 600.
As your attorney, I advise you to take a hit
out of the Iittle brown bottle in my shaving kit.
You won't need much.
Just a tiny taste.
Let's have it. Ah, there it is.
- What is this shit?. - That stuff...
makes pure mescaline seem Iike...ginger beer, man.
- Adrenochrome. - Adrenochrome?.
[phone rings]
Hello?.
Hi, Lucy. God bless!
Yeah, it's me.
What?. Hell, no. I taught the bastard a Iesson he'II never forget.
What?. No, not dead.
But he won't be bothering anybody for a while.
Yeah, I Iefy him out there.
I stomped him. And pulled all his teeth out.
[Dukke] What a terrible thing to lay on somebody with a head full of acid.
But we have a problem. He cashed a bad cheque and gave you as a reference.
They'II be Iooking for both of you.
I know, Lucy, but you can't judge a book by its cover.
Some people are just basically rotten.
Anyway, the Iast thing you want to do is call this hotel again.
They'II trace the call and put you straight behind bars.
No, I'm moving to the Tropicana right away.
I'II probably use a different name, but I'II Iet you know what it is.
I gotta get off.
They probably have this phone tapped, baby.
I know, it was horrible, but it's all over now.
[kicks seat]
Oh, my God. There's someone at the door.
Hey! Hey! No! I'm innocent!
It was Duke! It was Duke!
[gurgles and yells]
[sound distorts]
[whooshing]
Don't put that thing on me!
[Gonzo screams]
- [sound normalises] - Ooh. Ah...
[Gonzo] Well...
That's that.
That's the Iast we should be hearing from Lucy, man.
[Duke clucks]
She's probably stuffing herself down the incinerator about now.
You know what we need?. We need some opium.
[clucks]
I remember slumping on the bed. His performance had given me a bad jolt.
For a moment, I thought his mind had snapped,
that he actually believed he was being attackked.
But the room was quiet again.
- Where did you get this?. - Never mind. It's absolutely pure.
What kind of monster client have you hooked up with?.
Satanism freak.
I think there's only one source for this stuff. The...
adrenalin gland from a... Iiving human...body.
I know. The guy didn't have any cash to pay me.
He offered me human blood, said it would take me higher than I'd been.
I thought he was kidding,
so I told him I'd just as soon have an ounce or so of pure adrenochrome.
Or maybe just a fresh adrenaline gland to chew on.
[Dukke] I could already feel the stuff workking on me.
The first wave felt likke mescaline and methedrine.
Maybe I should takke a swim, I thought.
Yes, sir.
They nailed this guy for... child molesting.
He swore he didn't do it.
"Why should I fuck with children??' he said. "They're too small."
Christ, what could I say?. Even a werewolf is entitled to Iegal counsel.
Didn't dare to turn the creep down.
Might have picked up a Ietter opener and gone afyer my... pineal gland.
- You know?. Crazy. - Yeah. Why not?. Shit.
We should get some of that. Just eat a big handful and see what happens.
Some what?.
[Duke mumbles and sniffs]
- Extract of pineal. - Yeah, that's a good idea.
One whiff of that stuff
will turn you into something out of a goddamn medical encyclopaedia.
[whooshing]
[Duke] Beautiful fucking tits, man.
[Gonzo] Your head would swell up Iike a watermelon.
You'd gain 1 00 pounds in two hours.
Right!
Grow claws. BIeeding warts.
Yes.
Then you'd notice about six huge hairy tits swelling up on your back.
Fantastic.
You'd go blind.
Your body would turn to wax. They'd have to put you in a wheelbarrow.
And when you scream for help, you'II sound Iike a racoon.
Oooh...ee?.
Man, I'II try just about anything,
but I'd never in hell touch a pineal gland.
Finish the fucking story, man. What happened?.
- What about the glands?. - Jesus, that stuff got right on top of you.
Look at your face. You're about to explode.
Maybe you could just...
shove me into the pool or...
[Gonzo] If I put you in the pool now, you'II sink Iike a goddamn stone.
You took too much, man. You took too much, too much.
[gurgles]
Don't try and fight it. You'II get brain bubbles, strokes, aneurysms.
You'II just wither up and die.
[Duke babbles]
[Martin Luther King] ..kkilling innocent people...
..allow the last hopes for peace and freedom of millions of people
to be suffocated.
So tonight, to you, the great, silent majority...
Sacrifice... Sacrifice...
Sacrifice... Sacrifice... Sacrifice...
[? Jimi Hendrix: The Star-Spangled Banner]
[mingled sounds abruptly end]
[Debbie Reynolds] ? I hear the cottonwoods whispering above
? Tammy, Tammy
- ? Tammy's in love... - [Duke gurgles]
What kkind of rat-bastard psychotic would play that song at this moment?.
When I came to,
the backk-alley ambience of the suite was so rotten,
so incredibly foul.
How long had I been lying there?.
All these signs of violence.
What had happened?.
There was evidence of consumption
of almost every type of drug kknown to civilised man since 1 544AD.
[coughs]
Ah, Debbie. Thank God.
Oh, Debbie.
What kkind of addict would need all these coconut huskks and honeydew rinds?.
Would the presence of junkkies account for all these fries,
these puddles of glazed kketchup on the bureau?.
Maybe so.
But then why all this booze?. And these crude pornographic photos
smeared with mustard that had dried to a crust.
These were not the hoof prints of your normal God-fearing junkkie.
It was too savage. Too aggressive.
- Put your hands where I can see them. - What?. Jesus God, man.
Put your hands where I can see them. Put your hands where I can...
Grim memories and bad flashbackks.
Get a grip. Maintain.
How many nights and weird mornings had this shit been going on?.
[urinates]
Something ugly had happened. I was sure.
[Gonzo retches]
Who's that?. Shit, that's me!
- [crash] - [Duke mutters]
- No, please! I'm only the maid! - What the fuck?.
[Gonzo roars]
Ooh, shit.
[woman screams]
- You're under arrest! - She must have used a pass key.
I noticed her sneaking in, so I took her.
- Who paid you off?. - Nobody! I'm the maid!
- You're a part of it. - Part of what?.
The dope ring. You must know what's going on in this hotel.
- Why do you think we're here?. - I... I know you're the cops.
I thought you were just here for the convention. I swear.
AII I wanted to do was clean the room.
- I don't know anything about no dope. - Come on, baby.
You've never heard of the Grange Gorman?.
I swear I've never heard of that stuff.
Maybe she's telling the truth. Maybe she's not part of it.
I swear I'm not. I swear.
- In that case, maybe she can help. - Oh, yes.
I'II help you all you want. I hate dope.
- So do we. - We should put her on the payroll.
- See what she finds. - Think you can handle it?.
- What?. - One phone call every day.
Don't worry if it doesn't add up. That's our problem.
- You'd pay me for that?. - [Duke] Damn right we would.
But the first time that you say anything about this,
you will go to prison for the rest of your Iife.
- What's your name?. - AIice.
Prove it!
Just ring Linen Service and ask for AIice.
AII right, AIice.
You'II be contacted by Inspector Rock, Arthur Rock.
He'II be posing as a politician, but you'II have no problem recognising him.
Inspector Rock will pay you, in cash, $1,000 on the ninth of every month.
I'd do just about anything for that!
- You and a Iot of other people. - Come here.
The password, "One hand clutches the other."
The minute you hear that, you say, "I fear nothing."
- Say it. - I fear nothing.
- Say it again! - I fear nothing!
Now get the fuck out of here. Listen, nice meeting you.
Don't make up the room. Just Ieave towels and soap outside at midnight.
That way we won't have to risk another of these Iittle incidents.
- Whatever you say. - Thank God for decent people.
- [Dukke] Say it again! - [Alice] I fear nothing!
Terrible gibberish. Splintered memories looming up out of the time fog.
Just press play.
[man] This is it. The American Dream.
- [Dukke] We're sitting on the main nerve. - [man] Yeah, yeah.
Don't get me started.
The owner always wanted to run away and join the circus.
Now the son of a bitch owns the circus.
Ah, man. Real Iicence to steal.
Oh, yeah. The American Dream come true. Pure Horatio AIger.
Yeah. Welcome to the happy place.
Listen. Let's get down to brass tacks here, man.
- How much for the ape?. - [Iaughs] How much you got?.
[Dukke on tape] How much do you thinkk he'd takke for the ape?.
[Dukke on tape] Wait here. I'll be backk.
Madness. It made no sense at all. I desperately needed the facts.
Oh, God, oh, God! Little old person coming through! Get out the way!
[rock music]
What the fuck is going on?. Where's the ape, man?.
Forget about it! He attacked a man, bit off the head of the bartender
and the cops came and took him away.
[acid rock]
Is that your car?.
- What's the bail?. - There's too many zoos!
[clicks tape]
- Someone should stop them! - [Duke] You don't understand.
This car is property of the World Bank.
[man] You can't call this a circus!
- This top is completely jammed. - Something's wrong with the motor.
We're all riders of the storm.
- Where are you, monkeyhead?. - You can't do that!
You people voted for Hubert Humphrey! And you killed Jesus!
We'd been heading for trouble.
We'd pushed our luckk a bit too far.
Oh, God! Shit!
[music stops, Duke pushes buttons]
Right... uh...
The possibility of physical and mental collapse
is now very real.
No sympathy for the devil.
Keep that in mind.
Buy the ticket.
Uh... Take the ride.
[rock music]
[high-pitched] Hey there. You folks want to buy some heroin?.
[Gonzo whimpers and wails]
- Hey, honkies, I'm serious. - Pull ahead.
I want to sell you some pure fucking scag.
Shit, it's the real stuff. I just got back from Vietnam.
[Gonzo sobs and Iaughs]
Scag!
[Gonzo roars]
I want to sell you some pure fucking scag!
Shoot! Fuck!
Goddamn it, you bastard! Pull over! I'II kill you! I'II kill you!
Pull over! Come on!
Oh, shit.
[mellow music with female vocal]
OK.
The mentality of Las Vegas is so grossly atavistic
that a really massive crime often slips by unrecognised.
North Vegas is where you go when you've fuckked up on the Strip
and when you're not even welcome in the cut-rate downtown places.
[yelling]
The North Star Coffee Lounge seemed likke a safe haven from our storms.
No hassles, no talkk. Just a place to rest and regroup.
I wasn 't even hungry.
There was nothing in the atmosphere to put me on my guard.
Psst!
Two glasses of ice water with ice.
Two.
She lookked likke a burnt-out caricature of Jane Russell.
She was definitely in charge here.
He did it very casually, but I kknew that our peace was about to be shattered.
What was that?.
- What is this?. - It's a napkin.
Don't give me that bullshit, you fat goddamn pimp bastard.
That's the name of a horse I used to own.
- [Gonzo] What's wrong with you?. - The question markk was emphasised.
You son of a bitch, I take a Iot of shit in this place,
but I don't have to take it off no spic pimp.
Anybody that knows anything knows that.
Go on. Pay your check and get out of here. You want me to call the cops?.
[Duke] Oh, shit.
[Duke] Fuck.
You want me to call the cops?.
[coughs]
[Duke inhales]
- How much is that Iemon meringue pie?. - Her eyes were turgid with fear.
But her brain was functioning on survival level.
- 35 cents. - How much is that Iemon meringue pie?.
35 cents.
[scoffs]
What a waste of talent. No, honey. I mean, the whole pie.
The whole pie.
- Mm?. - [gasps]
Well. Three?.
Three?. Four?.
Five?.
Call it five.
I'II be in the car.
[waitress breathes uneasily]
[waitress gasps]
[engine revs up]
The sight of the blade had triggered bad memories.
The glazed lookk in her eyes said her throat had been cut.
She was still in the grip of paralysis when we left.
[engine revs]
[tyres squeal]
It was all over now.
We'd abused every rule that Vegas lived by.
Burning the locals, abusing the tourists, terrifying the help.
The only chance now, I felt,
was the possibility that we'd gone to such excess
that nobody in a position to bring the hammer down on us would believe it.
Fifteen minutes to get my attorney to the airport.
Could we makke it?.
- [tyres squeal] - Whoa!
Agh!
- Oh, fuck! - Oh, shit! Oh, shit!
Oh, God, oh, God, you son of a bitch!
- Oh, God. - Whoa!
- You're going the wrong way, man. - Fuck off, fat boy.
Stop! You fucker!
Take a right here! Take a right here!
[Gonzo] Goddamn it. We're Iost.
What are we doing out here on this godforsaken road?.
The airport's over there, man. Goddamn it! It's over there.
I've never missed a plane yet.
[Gonzo yells]
[? Big Brother And The Holding Company: Ball And Chain]
[Gonzo moans]
Agh!
[Gonzo gasps]
AII right, I'm gonna drop you right next to the plane.
Fuck you. I'II have to take the blame. They'II crucify me.
Right here, right here, right here.
Just say you were hitchhiking to the airport and I picked you up.
- You bastard. - Get out.
- Hey, hey! - Hey, Iisten.
Don't take any guff from these swine.
If you have any trouble, you can send a telegram to the right people.
Yeah, explaining my position. Some asshole wrote a poem about that.
It's probably good advice if you have shit for brains.
[Gonzo Iaughs]
There he goes. One of God's own prototypes,
a high-powered mutant never even considered for mass production.
Too weird to live and too rare to die.
? There you stood on the edge of your feather
? Expecting to fly
? While I laughed...
[Dukke] We're all wired into a survival trip now.
No more of the speed that fuelled the '60s.
That was the fatal flaw in Tim Leary's trip.
He crashed around America, selling "consciousness expansion ",
without a thought to the grim, meat-hookk realities
Iying in wait for all those people who tookk him seriously,
those pathetically eager acid freakks
who thought they could buy peace and understanding for three buckks a hit.
But their loss and failure is ours too.
Leary tookk down with him the central illusion of a lifestyle he helped create,
a generation of permanent cripples, failed seekkers,
who never understood the essential old-mystic fallacy of the acid culture,
a desperate assumption that somebody, or at least some force,
is tending the light at the end of the tunnel.
[? The Rolling Stones: Jumpin' Jack FIash]
There was only one road backk to LA, US Interstate 1 5.
A flat-out high-speed burn through Bakker, Barstow and Berdoo.
Then onto the Hollywood Freeway, straight into frantic oblivion.
Safety, obscurity, just another freakk in the freakk kkingdom.
? I was born in a cross-fire hurricane
? And I howled at my ma in the driving rain
? But it's all right now
? In fact it's a gas
? But it's all right
? I'm Jumpin ' Jackk Flash, it's a gas, gas, gas
? I was raised by a toothless bearded hag
? I was schooled with a strap right across my backk
? But it's all right now
? In fact it's a gas
? But it's all right
? I'm Jumpin ' Jackk Flash, it's a gas, gas, gas
? I was drowned, I was washed up, left for dead
? I fell down to my feet and I saw they bled
? Yeah, yeah, I frowned at the crumbs of a crust of bread
? Yeah, yeah, yeah, I was crowned with a spikke right through my head
? Oh, oh, yeah
? But it's all right now
? In fact it's a gas
? But it's all right
? I'm Jumpin ' Jackk Flash, it's a gas, gas, gas
? Jumpin ' Jackk Flash, it's a gas
? Jumpin' Jackk Flash, it's a gas
? Jumpin' Jackk Flash, it's a gas ?
[? Jimi Hendrix: The Star-Spangled Banner]
[? The Dead Kennedys: Viva Las Vegas]
? Bright-light city gonna set my soul It's gonna set my soul on fire
? Got a whole lot of money that's ready to burn
? So get those stakkes up high
? There's a thousand pretty women waiting out there
? They're all waiting, they'll never makke air
? And I'm just a devil with love to spare
? So, viva Las Vegas
? Viva Las Vegas
? How I wish that there were more than the 24 hours in the day
? Even if I ran out of speed
? Boy, I wouldn 't sleep a minute of the way
? Oh, that blackkjackk and pokker and the roulette wheel
? I'll poach your money lost on every deal
? All you need is sonar and nerves of steel
? So, viva Las Vegas
? Viva Las Vegas
with the neon signs flashin '
? And the one-armed bandits crashin ' All those hopes down the drain
? Viva Las Vegas, turning day into night-time
? Turning night into day-time
? If you see it once, you'll never be the same again
? Gotta kkeep on the run I'm gonna have me some fun
? If it costs me my very last dime
? If I wind up brokke, then I'll always remember
? That I had a swingin ' time
? Oh, I'm gonna give it everything I've got
? Lady Luckk's with me, the dice stay hot
? Got cokke up my nose to dry away the snot
? So, viva Las Vegas
? Viva Las Vegas
? Viva
? Viva Las Vegas
? Whee! ?