We were somewhere around Barstow on the edge of the desert ...
when the drugs began to take hold.
I remember saying something like ... I feel a bit light-headed.
Maybe you should drive.
Suddenly there was a terrible roar all around us and the sky was full of what ...
looked like huge bats all swooping and screeching and diving around the car.
And a voice was screaming: Holy Jesus, what are these god-damn animals?
Fucking pigs! - Did you say something?
Never mind. It's your turn to drive.
No point in mentioning these bats. The poor pig will see them soon enough.
Fucking pigs! Flying! Shit. All right, let's see ...
We had 2 bags of grass, 57 pellets of mescaline, 5 sheets of high powered ...
blotter acid, a salt shaker half full of cocaine, a galaxy of multi-coloured ...
uppers, downers, screamers, laughers. Also a quart of tequila, quart of rum,
case of beer, pint of raw ether ...
and 2 dozen amyls. Not that we needed all that for the trip ...
but once you get locked into a serious drug collection the tendency ...
is to push it as far as you can. The only thing that really worried me ...
was the ether. There is nothing in the world more helpless and irresponsible ...
and depraved than a man in the depths of an ether binge. And I knew we'd get ...
into that rotten stuff pretty soon. - A House Sub-Committee report says ...
illegal drugs killed 1 60 American GIs last year,
40 of them in Vietnam.
One toke, man. One toke over the line.
Sitting downtown in a railway station. One toke over the line.
One toke. You poor fool. Wait till you see those god-damn bats, man.
Let's give that boy a lift. - What? No! Wait.
We can't stop here, this is bat country.
I never rode in a convertible before. - Is that right?
Well, I guess you're about ready? - We're your friends.
We're not like the others. Really. - Out, or I'll put leeches on you!
Get in!
How long could we maintain. How long before one of us starts raving an ...
jabbering at this boy? What will he think then?
This same lonely desert was the last home of the Manson family. Would he ...
make that grim connection when my attorney starts screaming about bats ...
and huge manta rays coming down on the car? If so ... well,
we'll just have to cut his head off and bury him somewhere. Because it ...
goes without saying that we can't turn him loose. He'd report us at once to ...
a outback Nazi law enforcement agency and they'll run us down like dogs.
Did I say that? Or just think it?
He's just admiring the shape of your skull.
Maybe I had better have a chat with this boy, I thought. Perhaps, if I ...
explain things, he'll rest easy. All right, listen. There's one thing you ...
should probably understand. Can you hear me? Good!
I want you to have all the background. This is a very ominous assignment with ...
overtones of extreme personal danger. I'm a Doctor of Journalism, man.
This is important, god-damnit! This is a fucking true story!
Hey! Where are you going? Sit down! - Get your hands off my fucking neck!
Our vibrations were getting nasty. But why? Was there no communication ...
in this car? Had we deteriorated to the level of dumb beasts?
I want you to understand that this man is my attorney. He's not just some ...
dingbat I found on the Strip, man. He's a foreigner. I think he's Samoan?
It doesn't matter. Are you prejudiced? - Hell, no, sir.
I didn't think so. Because in spite of his race, this man is extremely ...
valuable to me. Oh, shit. I forgot about the beer. Do you want some?
No. - Ether?
What? - Never mind, let's get to the heart.
24 hours ago we were sitting in the Polo Lounge of Beverly Heights Hotel ...
in the patio section, of course. Drinking Singapore Slings with mescal ...
on the side, hiding from the brutish realities of this foul year 1971.
Perhaps this is the call you've been ...
waiting for all this time, sir. - Perhaps.
Yeah? Mmm, really? Right.
Yeah. Why not? Yeah.
That was headquarters. They want me to ...
Thank you.
They want me to got to Las Vegas at once make contact with a Portuguese ...
photographer named Lacerda. He'll have all the details. All I have to do is ...
check into my soundproof suite, he'll seek me out. What do you think?
Sounds like trouble. You're gonna need plenty of legal advice for this thing.
Oh, yeah. - As your attorney, I advise you to ...
rent a very fast car with no top. And you'll need the cocaine.
Tape recorder for special music ... Acapulco shirts.
And get the hell out of LA for at least 48 hours.
Blows my weekend. - Why?
Because, I'm gonna have to go with you. And we're gonna have to arm ...
ourselves to the teeth. - Well, why not?
I mean, if a thing's worth doing it's worth doing right.
This is the American Dream in action.
Wait!
We'd be fools not to ride this strange torpedo all the way out to the end.
Indeed. We must do it. What kind of story is this?
It's the Mint 400. It's the richest off-road race for motor cycles and ...
dune buggies in the history of sport. It's a fantastic spectacle in honour ...
of some fatback grossero who owns the luxurious Mint Hotel in Las Vegas.
That's what the press release says. - As your attorney, I advise you to buy ...
a motor cycle. How else can you cover a thing like this righteously?
Well, we're gonna have to drum it up on our own.
Pure Gonzo journalism. - Jesus!
Getting hold of the drugs and shirts had been no problem. But the car and ...
tape recorder were not easy to round up on a Friday afternoon in Hollywood.
Sounds beautiful. Great, hang on to it.
The gentleman has a major credit card. - Don't take any guff from these swine.
You just got through saying that. Do you realise who you're talking to?
Do you? Be over in 30 minutes.
We're gonna need a sound store. - We need unlimited credit.
Jesus, we will, man. You Samoans are all the same. You have no faith in the ...
essential decency of the White man's culture.
The store was closed but the salesman said he would wait if we hurried.
But we were delayed en route when a Stingray in front of us killed a
pedestrian. We had trouble again at the car rental agency.
Hey, Mr. Duke. If I could just get your John Hancock, you're on your way.
Listen you're gonna be real careful with this car, right?
Oh yeah, man, of course. - Oh good, Jesus! No, no, no ...
Holy smokes. You just backed over a 2 foot concrete abutment, you didn't ...
even slow. Maybe, 45 miles an hour. - There's no harm done.
Oh? - I always test the transmission that ...
way. Boy, this is really a nice pen. - Yeah. Listen you fellas ...
haven't been drinking, have you? - No, not me.
We're responsible people. - As you know. Hey, hey, hey!
God-damnit! You've got my pen! God-damn hippies!
We spent the rest of that night rounding up materials and packing ...
the car. Then we ate some mescaline and went swimming.
Our trip was different. It was to be a classic affirmation of everything ...
right in the national character; a physical salute to the fantastic ...
possibilities of life in this country. But only for those with true grit and ...
we are chock full of that, man. - Damn' right!
My attorney understands this concept despite his racial handicap. Do you?
He said he understood but I could see in his eyes that he didn't. He lies.
Medicine! - What?
Medicine! - Medicine? Oh, right. It's right here.
Don't worry. This man has a bad heart. Angina pectoris. But we have a cure ...
for it. Here you go. All right. Big whiff, sonny boy.
There you go. Much better. Now for the doctor.
What the fuck are we doing out here in the middle of the desert?
Somebody call the police. We need help. We need help.
The truth. - Truth?
That we're going to Vegas to croak ... - Vegas ...
... a scag baron named Savage Henry. - It's true.
Why? Because I've known him for years but he ripped us off.
And you know what that means. - Now you know what that means, right?
Savage Henry has just cashed his cheque.
Cashed his cheque. - And we're gonna rip his lungs out.
Gonna eat them. That bastard won't get away with this. What is going on this ...
country when a scum-sucker like that can get away with sandbagging a Doctor ...
of Journalism? Can you tell me that? - Thanks for the ride. I like you guys.
Really, don't worry about me. - Wait! Come back and have a beer.
Shit! Fuck! I'm gonna miss him.
Move over. We have to get out of California before that kid find a cop.
Come on, scoot over you fat bastard. - We had a real freak on our hands.
It was absolutely imperative that we get to the Hotel before the deadline ...
for press registration. Otherwise we might have to pay for our suite.
Jesus! Did you see what God just did to us, man?
God didn't to that. You did it. You're a fucking narcotics agent, I knew it.
That was our cocaine, you pig! You fucking pig, swine, whore!
You better be careful. Plenty of vultures out here. They'll pick your ...
bones clean before morning. - You fucking whore.
Here's your half of the sunshine acid. Eat it.
Yeah ...
right.
How long do I have? - As attorney, I advise you to drive at ...
top speed. It'll be a miracle if we're there before you turn into a animal.
Pig fucker, pig fucker, pig fucker ...
Are you ready for that? Checking into a Vegas hotel under a phoney name with ...
intent to commit capital fraud on a head full of acid?
I sure hope so. - 30 minutes. It was going very close.
Come on, take the ticket. We're busy here. Come on, take the ticket.
Take it. Take the ticket.
I need this, right? - I'll remember your face.
There is no way of explaining the terror I felt.
I was pouring sweat. My blood is too thick for Nevada.
I've never been able to properly explain myself in this climate.
Ok. Be quiet. Be calm.
Name. Rank. And press affiliation.
Nothing else.
Hi, there!
My name Raoul Duke on the list. Free lunch, final wisdom ...
... total coverage. Why not?
I have my attorney ...
with me and I realise that his name is not on that list.
But we must have that suite. Yes, we must have that suite.
What's the score here? What's next? - Your suite isn't ready yet. But ...
someone was looking for you. - No, we haven't done anything yet.
Move. - I can handle this.
This man suffers from a bad heart but I have plenty of medicine.
My name is Doctor Gonzo. Prepare his suite at once. We'll be in the bar.
Fire! - Hey, beat it. Beat it. Go on.
Well, I like the way you did that. - Come on.
Come on. Let's get some peanuts.
Peanuts? - That's one thing that's good for you.
Oh, God! - 2 cuba libras, beer, mescal.
I bet you're a Libra?
Who's Lacerda? - Lacerda?
Yeah, he's waiting for us on the twelfth floor. Room 12-50. Lacerda.
I couldn't remember. The name rang a bell but I couldn't concentrate.
Terrible things were happening all around us.
Order some golf shoes. Otherwise we'll never get out of this place alive.
Impossible to walk in this muck. No footing at all.
Mr. Roger Pratt, please call the hotel operator.
I was right in the middle of a fucking reptile zoo. And somebody was giving ...
booze to these damn things. It won't be long before they tear us to shreds.
I just went upstairs to see this man Lacerda. Says he's a photographer.
But when I mentioned Savage Henry, he freaked. He understands we're ...
on to him. Have you seen his eyes? You'll understand we have a magnum.
Please! Tell them to get out their fucking golf shoes.
Jesus, look at that bunch over there, man. They've spotted us.
That's the press table. We're gonna have to sign in for our credentials.
Ok ...
Are you ready? Are you ready?
Come on, hurry up! - Wait, don't leave me, man!
2 club sandwiches, and, er, 2 more club sandwiches.
1, 2, 3, 4 shrimp cocktails.
And 9 fresh grapefruits. - Vitamin C. We need all we can get.
One box of cereal. - There's a big machine in the sky.
A quart of rum. - Some kind of, I don't know,
electric snake coming straight at us. - Shoot it!
Not yet. I wanna study its habits. - You motor cyclists are hearty eaters.
I need the cart. I need to return with the cart. Thank you. But the cart ...
needs to go back. I'll be back. - You bastard!
I've been hit, man. - I leave you alone for 3 minutes and ...
you start waving that god-damn marlin spike around, yelling about reptiles.
What are you talkin' about, man? - They were ready to call the cops.
Sir, you're lucky I came back in time. - Don't come near me, man.
Don't come fucking near me! Leave me alone!
The only reason they gave us press passes was to get you out of there.
Oh God, what's that? - That scene straightened me right out.
Who's at the door?
Just a minute.
Oh, shit! Oh mother of God!
Hi, I'm Lacerda, your photographer.
Duke? - Uh-huh. He's back there.
Duke? Duke?
Hi! Lacerda. Your photographer.
You're not Portuguese, man. - Hi, you missed the bikes checking in.
Man, what a sight! Husqvarnas. Yamahas.
DMZs.
Kawasakis.
Maicos. Pursang. Swedish fireballs.
A couple of Triumphs, here and there a CZ. All very, very fast. Very.
What a race it's gonna be.
Yeah!
I'm gonna let myself out. - We know what you're up to, man.
Let me tell you. He's lying to us.
I could see it in his eyes. - Eyes?
Panic on, Charlie. Turn this shit off.
The racers were ready at dawn. Very tense.
In some circles the Mint 400 is a far, far better thing than the Superbowl,
the Kentucky Derby and the Lower Oakland Roller Derby finals all ...
rolled into one. This race attracts a very special breed.
Fuck off, man! - All right.
It was time to get grounded. To ponder this rotten assignment and figure out ...
how to cope with it. It was time to do the job. Those of us who had been up ...
all night were in no mood for coffee and donuts. We wanted strong drink.
We were, after all the absolute cream ...
of the national sporting press. We were gathered here in Las Vegas for ...
this very special moment in sport.
And when it comes to a thing like this you don't fool around.
Money plays. Money plays.
"Kill the body, the head will die". Ali/Frazier fight — Crazy shit, man.
A proper end to the sixties. Ali beaten by a human hamburger.
Both Kennedys murdered my mutants. - Hey, they're starting!
Oh, shit, they're startin'. Let's go!
Welcome to the start of the 50,000 dollar Mint 400 desert race.
With a purse of 50,000 dollars going to the winner of this gruelling,
gut wrenching, dust eating, in your face moto-cross extravaganza.
And away we go.
That's it.
Our second group of 1971 is getting in place. Kawasakis. Triumphs. Maicos.
Here we are. We're ready to go. It's the green flag and they're off!
Another great start with a lot of dirt happening on the hill. All right.
Here we go with the third group. And they're off! There we go.
Number 45 ragged in the number 4 position is choking,
his rattle flying ...
You better wet those bandannas you got stretched over your face ...
There was something like a 190 more bikes waiting to start.
They were due to go off, 10 at a time. Every 2 minutes.
There you go, buddy.
God-damnit, what day is it? Saturday? - Shit! More like Sunday.
By ten they were spread out all over the course. It was no longer a race.
Now it was an endurance contest. The idea of trying to cover this race is ...
any conventional press sense was absurd.
Hi! It's pretty great, huh? - What?
Come on in!
I'm just gonna try different combinations of lense and film until ...
I find something that works in this dust!
What the fuck! That's fucking machine guns, man, they're firing at us.
It's god-damn war zone, man. Get us outta here quick. Quick, man! Quick.
We're gonna be killed for fuck's sake. - What the ...
Oh no, oh god. Oh God. Oh God.
Where's the damn race? - Beats me, man.
We're just good patriotic Americans like yourselves.
What outfit you fellas with? - Oh, the sporting press.
We're friendlies. Hired geeks.
Yeah. - Let's go.
Good luck, gentlemen. Freaks. Take me back to the pits.
No, no, no! We have to go on. We need total coverage.
It was time, I felt for an agonising reappraisal of the whole scene.
You're fired. Awful jackass!
Get me out of here! - I never want to see you again.
I gotta take photos. Just drive into the dust!
The race was definitely under way. I had witnessed the start.
I was sure of that much. But what now?
What comes next?
Turn up the radio. Turn up the tape machine. Roll your window down.
Let us taste this cool desert wind. Ah, yes, this is what it's all about.
Total control now. Tooling along the main drag on Saturday night in Vegas.
2 good old boys in a fire apple red convertible.
Stoned, ripped, twisted. Good people.
Hot fuck. That sounds heavy. 29 cent hot dogs.
What are we doing here? Are we here to entertain ourselves do the job?
Do the job, of course. Here we go. A crab Louie and a quart of Le Piat's ...
muscatel for 20 dollars.
I advise you to drive over to the TROPICANA and pick up on Guy Lombardo.
He's there. - Why?
Why? Why what? - Well, why should I pay my hard-earned ...
dollars to watch a fucking corpse? I don't know about you but in my line of ...
business it's important to be hep.
What the hell do you think you're doing? This is not a parking area.
You can't park your car here. - What?
You can't park your car here.
Is it not a reasonable place to park? - Reasonable? You're on a sidewalk!
We want this car parked. - You can't park on the sidewalk!
Excuse me, sir. - Drove from LA for this show.
We're friends of Debbie's. - It's cool, baby. We'll see you later?
This was Bob Hope's turf. Frank Sinatra's.
Spiro Agnew's. The place fairly wreaked of high-grade formica and ...
plastic palm tress. Clearly a high-class refuge for big spenders.
Has she started? Is she on stage? - Yes she is. Full house.
I'm sorry, sir. - We've come LA for this show.
I said there are no seats left, sir. - Fuck seats!
We're friends with Debbie. - Well, that depends.
Come and talk to me for a second here, come on.
Your attitude constitutes a breach of faith.
In Nevada that's illegal. Your name? - My name?
Tony Pitzicatta.
Tony Pitzicatta, ok. - What may I ask is your name, sir?
It's on my driver's licence. - I think we've met before.
Might be able to squeeze you in, sir. - Thanks.
You'll have to stand in the back.
After a lot of bad noise he let us in for nothing.
Provided we would stand quietly at the back and not smoke.
Ladies and gentlemen. The Desert Inn is proud to present the one, the only,
the incomparable, Miss Debbie Reynolds!
Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. It's wonderful to be here with all you ...
fabulous people. Let's rock and roll!
Hey, what the hell is going on?
Jesus creeping shit! We wandered into a fucking time capsule, man.
Scumbag! - What?
I'll find where you live and burn your house down, you piece of shit!
What? What happened? - One of these days I'll toss a fucking ...
bomb in that place.
Ok. Here we are. This is the place! They'll never fuck with us here.
Where's the ether? Mescaline's not working.
There we go.
Right.
Yeah, why not.
Yeah.
Devil ether. It makes you behave like the village drunkard in some early ...
Irish novel. Total loss of all basic motor skills: blurred vision,
no balance, numb tongue. The mind recoils in horror unable to ...
communicate with the spinal column. Which is interesting because you can ...
actually watch yourself behaving in this terrible way ...
but you can't control it.
You approach the turnstiles and you know that when you get there you have ...
to give the man 2 dollars or he won't let you inside. But when you get there ...
everything goes wrong. Some angry Rotarian shoves you and you think ...
"What's happening here? What's going on?" When you hear yourself mumbling:
Dog's fucked the Pope. No fault of mine.
Ether is the perfect drug for Vegas. In this town they love a drunk.
Fresh meat. - Come on, buddy, come on.
So they put us through the turnstiles and turned us loose inside.
Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls,
visitors of all ages! The Bazooko Casino Circus ...
proudly presents, The Flying Fellinis!
Excuse me.
A drug person can learn to cope with things like seeing their dead grandma ...
crawling up their leg with a knife in her teeth but nobody should be asked ...
to handle this trip. Bazooko Circus is what the whole hep world would be ...
doing Saturday night if the Nazis had won the war. This was the Sixth Reich.
Place your bets, where everyone ... - Step right up and shoot the pasties ...
off the nipples of the ten foot bald dyke with a cotton candy coat.
Step up to this fantastic machine. For just 99 cents your likeness will ...
appear 200 feet tall on a screen over downtown Las Vegas. For just 99 cents ...
more, you can have a voice message. Say whatever you want, fella.
Oh, they'll hear you all right. Ok, keep moving, keep moving.
The ether was wearing off. The acid was long gone.
But the mescaline was running strong. Good mescaline comes on slow.
The first hour's all waiting. And then about half-way through its second hour ...
you start cursing the creep who burned you because nothing's happening.
And then, zang! - I hate to say this ...
but this place is getting to me. I think I'm getting ...
"The Fear". - Nonsense. We came here to find the ...
American Dream. Now that we're right in the vortex, do you wanna quit?
Man, we've found the "Main Nerve". - That's what gives me "The Fear".
Oh look. - What?
There's 2 women fucking a Polar Bear. - Don't tell me those things.
Not now, man. This is my last drink.
How much money can you lend me? - Not much. Why?
I have to go. - Go?
Yeah. Leave the country. - Calm down. You'll be straight in a ...
few hours. Just sit down. Sit down! - Don't fuck around, man!
This is serious. One more hour in this town, I'll kill somebody.
Ok. I'll lend you some money. - Can we make it?
I wanna leave fast. - Ok. Let's pay this bill.
Get up very slowly. I think it's gonna be a long walk.
Light, sir?
Do they pay you to screw that bear?
What? What the fuck did he say to me? - He's wrong.
You better take care of your friend. - Madam, sir, baby, child, whatever ...
Got change? Here, take this. That should be enough. I'm sure. All right,
let's go downstairs and gamble.
You guys don't fucking give up. - Where did he go? Where did he go?
When is this thing gonna stop? - Stop? It's not ever gonna stop, man.
Stop! - Don't move, you'll come around.
Fuck, he's ... Where did he go?
Let go. Quick, like a bunny. Come on.
Hop! Come on. Hop!
Oh, you snivelling chicken shit bastard!
I'm melting. I'm ok. - Come on, you fell.
You fell, let's go. - Some son-of-a-bitch pushed me.
Come on. All right, you stay here and go to jail, I'm leaving.
Come on, you fiend. Nothing, I want nothing.
You see that? Some son-of-a-bitch ...
just kicked me in the back. - Yeah. The bartender. Wanted to stomp ...
you for what you said to the waitress. - Cows are gonna kill me!
Bisexuals are gonna kill me. Let's get out of here. Where's the elevator?
No, fuck. Don't go near the elevator. That's just what they want us to do.
Trap us in a steel box. Take us down to the basement. Come here, man!
Don't run, man. They'd like any excuse to shoot us.
You drive. You drive. I think there's something wrong with me.
Wrong door. Wrong door.
Not a good town for psychedelic drugs. Extremely menacing vibrations were all ...
around us. We finally made it to the room but the key ...
wouldn't open the door. - Those bastards have changed the lock.
Already?
They've probably searched the room, man. Jesus Christ, we're finished.
Watch out, watch out, watch out!
Bolt everything. Use all chains. - No one's there, we're good.
Phew. That's better. Much better now.
Where did this one come from?
That's Lacerda's. - Yeah, I thought we might need it.
What for? - What for? So we can go up there and ...
blast him out of bed with the fire hose, man.
We leave that poor bastard alone. He told me he was gonna turn in early ...
I knew it. He's got a hold of my woman, man.
You mean that little blonde groupie with the film crew? Shit!
Think he sodomized her? - That's right, laugh about it.
He'll be glueing her eyes shut now. - You damn honkies are all the same.
Jesus, God Almighty, man. Where did you get that big fucker?
Room service sent it up. I needed something to cut the limes, man.
Limes? What limes? - They didn't have any. They don't grow ...
in the desert. That dirty toad bastard.
I knew I should have taken him out when I had the chance.
Now he has her, man! He's got a hold of my baby, yeah.
I remembered the girl. We'd had a problem with her in the elevator a ...
few hours earlier. My attorney had made a fool of himself.
You must be a rider.
She's speaking to you.
What class are you in? - Class? What the fuck do you mean?
What do you ride? See, we're here ...
getting a little footage on the race for a television series.
I thought maybe we could use you. - Oh, use me?
I ride a ... - I thought, here it comes.
I ride the big fuckers, you know. The big ones. The really big fuckers.
Vincent Black Shadow. We're with the factory team.
Bullshit! - What?
Bullshit!
I think there's some kind of ignorant chicken-shit. Move over, man!
Some kind of ignorant chicken fucker in this town. You pink motherfucker.
I can show you better than I can tell you, man.
You got a light?
No. - No ...
You don't trust me, do you? Put the smile away.
It's ok. I know these guys. - Keep trying me, jerk-off.
You wanna impress her? Well, impress her with me. Impress her with me.
Oh fuck. - Ok ...
Police are coming.
Oh shit! Fucking police are coming after you.
Give me the key. Give me the god-damn key!
Come on, man. - Put the knife away.
Been walking all day. Come on. It's in my pocket. God-damn!
It's serious now, man.
That girl understood, man.
She fell in love with me, man. Eye contact, man!
Let's go up there and castrate that fucker. I'll take the blame, man.
Why don't you just leave that weird fucker alone, man? Come on.
Have you made a deal with him? Did you put him on to her, man?
All right, look, you better put that god-damn blade away, man.
Get your fucking head straight. I'm gonna go get the car washed.
One of the things you learn, after years of dealing with drug people ...
is that you can turn your back on a person, but never turn your back on a drug.
Especially when it's waving a razor-sharp hunting knife in your eye.
What was I doing out here? What was the meaning of this trip?
Was I just roaming around in a drug frenzy of some kind?
Or had I really come out here to Las Vegas to work on a story?
Who are these people? These faces?
Where do they come from? They look like caricatures of used car dealers from Dallas.
And, Jesus, there are a hell of a lot of them at 4:30 on a ...
Sunday morning. Still humping the American Dream.
That vision of the big winner somehow emerging from the last minute ...
pre-dawn chaos of a stale Vegas casino.
Change a twenty. Thank you.
Here we go. - Ok. Spinning the wheel ...
Make me rich. Make me very rich.
That's ten. - Oh you bastard!
No, no. Calm down. Learn to enjoy losing.
Fuck, man. It's a fucking great deluge in here. Don't touch that.
Leave it alone. Don't fuck with it, man! Damn it! Jesus Christ.
Oh God. Did you eat all this acid?
That's right. Music! - You better pray to God there's some ...
thorazine in that bag. - Music, man. Put the tape on!
What tape? - Jefferson Airplane. "White Rabbit"
I need a rising sound. - I'm leaving here in 2 hours.
Then they're gonna come up here and beat the mortal shit out of you.
Fuck! Ok. I'll do it. I'll do it.
Just do me one last favour, will you? Can you give me 2 hours? It's all ...
I ask, man. 2 hours to sleep before tomorrow. I suspect it's gonna be ...
a very difficult day. - I'll give you all the time you need.
Electrocution. You don't want that.
Fuck off!
God-damn ...
Help! Help! Help me! Somebody help! - Shit! He's killing himself.
Don't touch it, man. Don't touch it! For fuck's sake, man.
Back!
Back, motherfucker!
On a roll, man. I need it again. - What?
When it comes to that fantastic note ...
where the rabbit bites its own head of.
I want you to throw that fucking radio ...
into the tub with me. - You're going completely sideways!
That'll blast you right through the wall. You'll be dead in 10 seconds.
Fuck, they'll make me explain things. - Bullshit!
Don't fuck with me now, man. I'm Ahab.
Oh Jesus Christ. - Ok, you weird fucker, sit down!
Back in the tub! I'll plunge this into your fucking throat, man.
Don't make me use this, man!
All right, man. Probably the only solution.
Let me make sure I've got this all lined up. You want me to throw this ...
thing into the tub when the "White Rabbit" peaks? Is that it?
I was beginning to think I was gonna have to go outside and get one of the ...
god-damn maids to do it. - No, man. I'll do it.
Shit! What are friends for?
Are you ready?
Close your eyes. Yeah, good boy.
White Rabbit! White Rabbit! - Quiet, you're wasting my time.
Get out of here, man. Out! Get out!
Ok, close those peepers. 10 ...
9, 111. 72. 3.
I need sleep, I'm tellin' you.
Mace! Mace, man! You want this?
You'd do that, wouldn't you? - Well, why not?
You fucking bastard! - Just a minute ago you were asking me ...
to kill you. Now you wanna kill me. What I should do is call the police!
Boy, are you upset! There'll be no point, man,
calling the cops. - No choice. I wouldn't sleep with you ...
wandering around with a head full of acid, and wanting to slice me up.
Who said anything about slicing you up, man?
I just wanted to carve a little "Z" on your forehead.
Get back in the tub. Eat some reds and try to calm down.
Smoke some grass, shoot some fucking smack. Shit, do whatever you've gotta ...
do, but, please, let me get some fucking rest, man, please.
Please. Get up, you pig fucker!
Up! Up! - Well, I ...
Yeah ...
You need to get to work. God-damn, what a bummer.
You scurvy, shyster bastard.
I'm a Doctor of Journalism, man.
Don't let me keep you up. Don't let me keep you up.
Do you ever clean your shorts?
Clean your shorts, god-damn!
The acid had shifted gears on him. The next phase would probably be one ...
of those hellishly intense introspective nightmares. 4 hours of ...
of catatonic despair and drugs.
Ignore the nightmare in the bathroom. Just another ugly refugee from the ...
"Love Generation". My attorney had never been able to accept the notion ...
often espoused by former drug abusers that you can get a lot higher without ...
drugs than with them.
And neither have I, for that matter. ♪ When the truth is found ♪
♪ To be lies ♪
♪ And all the joy within you dies ♪
♪ Don't you want somebody to love ♪
♪ Don't you need somebody to love ♪
♪ Wouldn't you love somebody to love ♪
♪ You better find somebody to love ♪
1965, the great San Francisco acid wave.
I recall one night in a place called "The Matrix". There I was ...
Mother of God. There I am! Holy fuck!
Clearly I was a victim of the drug explosion. A natural street freak
just eating whatever came by.
Any-body want some L-S-D?
I got all the makings right here ...
all I need is a place to cook.
I decided to eat only half of the acid at first. But I spilled the ...
rest on the sleeve of my red woollen shirt.
What's the trouble?
Well, all this white stuff on my sleeve ...
is LSD.
With a bit of luck his life was ruined forever ...
Always thinking that just behind some narrow door in all his favourite bars ...
men, in red woollen shirts are getting incredible kicks from things ...
he'll never know.
Strange memories on the nervous night in Las Vegas.
Has it been 5 years? 6?
It seems like a lifetime. The kind of peak that never comes again.
San Francisco in the middle sixties 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 knowing that ...
you were there and alive in that corner of time and the world.
Whatever it meant.
There was madness in any direction at any hour.
You could strike sparks anywhere.
There was a fantastic universal sense that whatever we were doing was right ...
that we were winning. And that, I think, 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 high and beautiful wave.
So now less than 5 years later you ...
can go up on a steep hill in Vegas and look west and,
with the right kind of eyes you can almost see the high water mark.
That place where the wave finally broke and rolled back.
Room service!
Good morning, sir. - What do you want, man?
Room service. - This is not mine, you're in the ...
wrong room. Get the fuck out! I got a gun. It's not mine, man.
Get out!
I have the bill. I need you to sign ... - All right. Give it. Hurry up!
Don't move, man. Be very still.
Saying 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 think because I had no ...
money to pay for it. Our room service tabs had been running somewhere ...
between 29 and 36 dollars per hour ...
for 48 consecutive hours. Incredible.
How could it happen? But by the time I asked this question there was no ...
one around to answer. That attorney of mine, Doctor Gonzo, was gone.
He must have sensed trouble.
A "Z"?
Panic. It crept up my spine like first rising vibes of an acid frenzy.
All these horrible realities began to dawn on me. Oh fuck!
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 god-damn hotel bill to deal with.
I didn't even know who'd won the race. Maybe nobody.
How would Horatio Alger have handled the situation?
Stay calm. Stay calm. I'm a relatively respectable citizen.
A multiple felon, perhaps, but certainly not dangerous.
Luckily I had taken the soap and grapefruit and other luggage to the ...
car a few hours earlier. Now it was only a matter of slipping the noose.
Hey, wait! Here! Take this. All right.
Mr. Duke! Mr. Duke! - Oh, shit!
We've been looking for you. - The game was up. They had me.
Fine books have been written in jail. - Sir?
What?
This telegram came for you. Well, actually, it's not for you.
It's for somebody named Thompson but it says "Care of Raoul Duke".
Does that mean anything? - Yes, yes, thanks.
I checked the register for this man. I figured he might be part of your team.
He is. Don't worry. Get it to him. - What confused us was Doctor Gonzo's
signature on the telegram form Los Angeles when we knew he was right ...
here in the hotel. - Right. Never try and understand a ...
press message. About half the time we use codes especially with Dr. Gonzo.
See you. - Tell me when will the Doctor ...
be awake? - Awake? What do you mean?
Well, my manager, Mr. Heem, would like to meet him.
It's nothing unusual. Mr. Heem likes to meet all of our large accounts.
Put 'em on a personal basis, you know, just a chat and a handshake.
You understand. - Of course. But if I were you I would ...
leave the Doctor alone until after he's eaten his breakfast because he's ...
a very crude man. Jesus God.
But he will be available maybe later this morning?
Look the telegram is actually all scrambled. It's from Thompson.
Not to him. All right? Now I've got to go. I've gotta get to the race.
But no hurry, the race is over. - Not for me.
Well, let's have lunch! - Rightio, man rightio.
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.
Do me one last favour, Lord just give me 5 more high speed hours before you ...
bring the hammer down. Just let me get rid of this god-damn car and ...
off this horrible desert.
Oh, you evil bastard! This is your work. You better take care of me,
Lord. If you don't you're gonna have me on your hands.
Pull over. Pull over. - Hey! Good morning. How are you?
All right, man. Doing very well.
Few people understand the psychology of dealing with a traffic cop.
Your normal speeder will panic and pull over to the side. This is wrong.
It arouses contempt in the cop heart. Make the bastard chase you.
He will follow. But he won't know what to make of your blinker signal ...
that says you're about to turn right. This is to let him know you're pulling ...
off for a proper place to talk. It'll take him a moment to realise that he's ...
about to make a 180 degree turn, at speed.
But you will be ready for it braced for the G's and the fast heel.
Hi. How are you?
Just what in the hell did you think you were doing? I wanna know.
Let me see your licence. - Of course, officer. Right here.
Oh my gosh.
It's me. - May I please have that?
I knew I was fucked.
I see you have two cases of beer, a basket of grapefruit,
stack of T-shirts and towels, light-bulbs. Do you realise what you ...
did when you drive like that? - I know, I'm guilty. I understand it.
I knew it was a crime. I did it anyway. Shit, why argue?
I'm a fucking criminal. Look at me. - You have a strange attitude.
Maybe.
You know, I've feeling you need to take a nap.
There's a rest area just up ahead. I'd like you to go up there,
pull over, and get a few hours sleep. - That's not gonna help me. I've been awake ...
for too long, 3 or 4 nights maybe. I can't even remember. If I go to ...
sleep now, I'm dead for 20 hours. - What are you carrying 2 cases ...
of soap for, son? - I wanna stay clean.
No ... Here's how it is.
What I put into 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 long nap.
Do I make myself clear? - Well,
how far is Baker? I was sort of hoping to ... I don't know,
stop there for lunch. - Not in my jurisdiction.
City limits are 2.2 miles beyond the rest area.
Can you make it that far? - I'll try.
I've been wanting to go to Baker for a long time. Yeah, heard a lot about it.
Excellent seafood. You know, I'm thinking ...
a guy with your kind of mind ought to try the land-crab.
Excellent seafood. - Land-crab? All right.
Why not? Thanks for the tip.
Look at me in the eyes.
Everything all right?
May I have a little kiss before you go?
I'm very lonely here.
I felt raped. The pig had done me on all fronts ...
and now he was going off to chuckle about it on the west side of town.
Waiting for me to make a run for LA. "Why, yes, officer, of course.
I'll take advantage of that rest area. And I can't tell you how grateful I'm ...
for this break you wanna 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!
Shit! Come on, you fucking bastard. Oh God, oh God! I've got to go ...
Well they've nailed me. I'm trapped in some stinking desert crossroads called ...
Baker. I don't have much time. They'll hunt me down like a fucking beast.
Who? You sound a little paranoid. - I need a fucking lawyer immediately!
What? Didn't you get my telegram? - What telegram, you worthless bastard?
I'll cripple your ass for this. - You're supposed to be in Vegas.
I rented a suite at THE FLAMINGO. You're supposed to be covering the ...
National District Attorney's Conference. I made all reservations.
Everything is arranged. Now,
what the fuck are you doing out there in the middle of the desert?
Nothing. Never mind. It's all a big joke. I'm actually ... I'm poolside at ...
THE FLAMINGO right now. Talking from a portable phone some dwarf brought out ...
from the casino. I have total credit. Don't come anywhere near this place,
you bastard. Foreigners aren't welcome here.
Well, this is how the world works. All energy flows according to the ...
whims of the Great Magnet.
What a fool I was to defy him.
I was going back to Vegas. I had no choice.
I had to get rid of The Shark. Too many people might recognise it,
especially the Vegas police.
Luckily my credit card was still technically valid.
Now this was a superior machine. 10 grand worth of gimmicks ...
and high-price special effects.
The rear windows leapt up with a touch like 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 certain bent appeal in the notion of running a savage burn on one Vegas ...
hotel and then just wheeling across town and checking into another.
Me and a 1,000 ranking cops from all over America. Why not?
Move confidently into their midst. - Welcome to The Flamingo Hotel, sir.
Sir? - Oh, hi, all right. Ok.
♪ I'm addicted to your charms You're getting to be a habit with me ♪
♪ I used to think your love was something that I could take or ... ♪
My arrival was badly timed. ♪ But now I couldn't do without ♪
♪ my supply I need you for my own ... ♪
I'm a police chief from Michigan. Look, fella, I have explained to you.
I have this postcard which says that I have a reservation ...
in this hotel. - I am very sorry, Sir, but you're on ...
the 'late' list. And so your ...
reservation has been transferred to the, MOONLIGHT motel which is just ...
out on Paradise Boulevard. - We've already paid for our ...
god-damn room. - It's actually a very fine place of ...
lodging and it's only 16 blocks from here. It has a pool, sauna, steam.
Listen, you filthy little faggot! I want a manager down here! Now! Now!
Now, because I'm sick of listening to your dog-shit!
I am very sorry, sir. - Get off of me! Get away from me!
Can I call you a cab? - Of course I could hear what the ...
clerk was really saying. - Listen, you fuzzy little 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 really hate to interrupt but if I could just slide on through and get ...
out of your way? Raoul Duke. I think my attorney made the reservation.
Duke Raoul. Certainly, sir. - My bags are out there in that ...
white Cadillac convertible thee. Maybe somebody could bring it to the room?
Let me get a quarter of Wild Turkey,
two fifths of Bacardi, some ice for the room and, let's see ...
Some lime chunks, what do you think? - I say ok.
Now you don't worry about a thing. You don't hesitate ...
to call me Sven. - All right, Sven.
Thank you very much. I know, I know, I know.
It's hideous. You're gonna be fine though. You're doing well.
I'll see you later. Don't touch it. Ok. Goodnight. Pardon me. Bye, Sven.
Look what you did! God-damn 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 shit ...
Shit! What the fuck? Stop it! Stop it!
She's biting my leg off. You degenerate pig!
Please! God-damn ... - Can't be helped.
That's Lucy like "Lucy in The Sky With Diamonds". Lucy be cool,
god-damnit. Remember what happened at the airport, ok?
Come on.
No more of that, ok? That's my client, Lucy.
That's Mr. Duke, famous journalist. He's paying for this suite, Lucy.
He's on our side. He loves artists.
Lucy paints portraits of Barbra Streisand.
Right? - I drew 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 Barbara.
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 locked into some ...
kind of preternatural courtship. Well, they must have brought ...
the car round by now.
So why don't ou-yay and ... I-ay ...
o-gay and et-gay the uff-stay
out of the unk-tray.
Absolutely. Yeah, let's get the stuff.
We'll be right back, Lucy. Give me a kiss, one kiss, one kiss.
No. No. - Why not?
No. - Ok.
Don't answer the phone.
God bless.
Well, what are your plans? - Plans?
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. - It'll probably work out. We can keep ...
her loaded and then peddle her ass at the drug convention. She's perfect for ...
this gig. These cops'll go 50 bucks a head to beat her into submission and ...
then gang fuck her. We set her up in one back-street motel, hang pictures ...
of Jesus. And then turn these fucking pigs loose on her. She's strong, man.
She'll hold her own.
Jesus Christ, I knew you were sick but I'd never expected to hear you say ...
that kind of stuff. You bastard. - Straight economics, man.
This girl's a godsend. Shit! She could make us a grand a day.
That's ugly, man. Stop talking like that.
Well, I figure she can do about four at a time. Christ, if we keep her full ...
of acid, that's more like 2 grand a day. Maybe 3.
What if I beat the dumb shit out of you? Would that make you feel ...
any better? You filthy bastard! - All right, listen to me.
In a few hours she'll probably be sane enough to work herself into some sort ...
of towering Jesus-based rage at the hazy recollection of being seduced ...
by some kind of cruel Samoan who fed her liquor and LSD ...
dragged her to a Vegas Hotel room, and then savagely penetrated every ...
orifice in her little body with his throbbing, uncircumcised member.
That's so ugly, man. - Fuck, truth hurts.
Lord help her, man. - Well,
you'll go straight to the gas chamber for this one. Even if you manage to ...
beat that they'll still send you back to Nevada for rape and sodomy.
No, she's gotta go, man. - Shit!
It doesn't pay to try to help somebody these days, huh?
Come on! Let's go to work. - Yeah, Americana Hotel?
I need a reservation. For my niece.
Look, I want her treated very gently. She's an artist and ... Fuck off!
She might seem a trifle high-strung. She's doing her Masters thesis on,
well, Barbara Streisand. - It's time to meet Barbara.
Last name? I'd rather not say. My brother's in politics.
Yeah, you understand. I felt like a Nazi but ...
it had to be done. Yeah, yeah, righto. Ok, yeah. Bye.
Yummy, yummy, yummy, I've got love in my tummy,
And I feel like loving you,
Love is such a sweet thing, Good enough to eat ...
Lucy was a potentially fatal millstone round both our necks.
There was absolutely no choice but to cut her adrift and ...
hope her memory was fucked. - Here's an extra ten bucks, buddy,
make sure she gets there safe.
That's that.
Go ahead, take off slowly. We don't wanna attract attention.
Let's find a good seafood restaurant and eat some red salmon. Red salmon!
Oh no, man. We're gonna be late. We gotta go.
God-damn mescaline!
Why the fuck can't they make it a little less 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: Doctor L. Ron Bumquist.
I saw these bastards in "Easy Rider". I didn't believe they were real.
Not like this. Not hundreds of them. - They're nice you get to know them.
Know them? These are in my damn blood. - Don't say that word around here.
You'll get them excited. - You're right.
... us to do this is for each one of us to try ...
and attempt to imagine what it is like 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.
What the fuck are these people talking about? You gotta be crazy on acid to ...
think a joint looked like a god-damn cockroach.
You will notice that I have distinguished 4 distinct states ...
of being in the cannabis or marijuana society.
They are cool,
groovy, hip and square. Seldom, if ever ...
Just face it, man, he's too crazy. Watch what you're doing, man.
What a fucking nightmare. - If he figures out what is ...
happening then he can rise one notch ...
and become hip. And then, if he can convince himself to approve ...
of what is happening, then ...
he becomes groovy. Groovy.
And then, after that, he can actually raise himself to the rank
of cool.
He can become one of those cool guys.
Doctor Bumquist? Do you think the anthropologist, Margaret Mead's
strange behaviour of late, sir, 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. One ...
more layer of deviance to the woman. - This is fucking bullshit!
I'll be down in the casino.
Down in front, man.
Thank you. Thank you very much. Thank you. Thank you for having me.
Projector, please. - Lights.
The sinister menace of Narcotics. - Know your dope fiend.
Your life my depend on it. You will not be able to see his eyes ...
because of T-Shades but his knuckles will be white from inner tension.
And his pants will be crusted with semen from constantly jacking 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 attack, 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.
Oh God, oh God. Shit, shit, shit!
Yeah? - Yes, Mr. Duke, hello.
You have one message. Call Lucy at the Americana Hotel,
room 1600.
Hello? - Lucy called.
What? - Lucy called.
What? - Luce called, huh!
Those 2 men in the dock they gave me the LSD, and 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! You swine!
- Where's my .357, man? - Who the fuck knows, man?
You can't leave me alone in this snake pit. You bastard, what did you do with my .357?
- This room is in my name. - Tough titty, man.
Okay, goddamn it! You're right.
She's my problem. I'll call her. I'll get her off our backs.
Hey, it's gone too fucking far, man. - I'll take that into consideration.
Relax! - Let me handle this.
What did you do with my shoes? - American Hotel, room 1600, please.
As your attorney I advise you to take a hit out of the little brown bottle
in my shaving kit. You won't need much.
Just a tiny taste.
Ah, there it is.
What is this shit? - That stuff makes pure mescaline seem ...
like ginger beer, man. - Ginger beer?
Adrenochrome. - Adrenochrome?
Hello?
Hi, Lucy. God bless.
Yeah, it's me. What? Hell no, I taught the bastard a lesson ...
he'll never forget. What? No, not dead.
Well, he won't be bothering anybody for a while.
Yeah, I left him out there. I stomped him,
and pulled all his teeth out. - What a terrible thing to lay on ...
somebody with a head full of acid. - But we have a problem.
That bastard cashed a bad check downstairs and gave you as reference.
They'll be looking for both of you. Yeah, I know, Lucy,
but you can't judge a book by its cover. Some people are just ...
basically rotten. Anyway, the last thing in the world you wanna do ...
is call this hotel again.
They'll trace the call and put you straight behind bars.
No, I'm moving to the 'Tropicana' right away.
I think I'll try and use a different name ...
but I'll let you know what it is.
I gotta get off. Probably got this phone tapped, baby.
Yeah, I know, it's horrible but it's all over now.
Oh my God, there's someone at the door.
No, I'm innocent! It was Duke.
It was Duke. It was him.
It was him!
Don't put that thing on me!
That's ...
that. That's the last we should be hearing from Lucy, man.
She's probably stuffing herself down the incinerator about now.
You know what we need? We need some opium.
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 attacked by invisible enemies.
But the room was quiet again.
Where'd you get this, man? - Never mind. It's absolutely pure.
What kind of monster client was it? - Satanism freak.
I think there's only one source for this stuff. In the ...
adrenalin gland from a living human body.
I know. But the guy didn't have any cash to pay me. He offered ...
me human blood, said it would take me higher than I'd ever been in my life.
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. - I could feel the stuff working on me.
The first wave felt like a combination of mescaline/methedrine.
Maybe I should take a swim, I thought.
Yes, sir.
Thy 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 god-damn werewolf is entitled to legal counsel.
Didn't dare to turn the creep down.
He might have picked up a letter opener and gone ...
after my pineal gland. You know.
Yeah. Why not? We should get some of that.
Just eat a big handful and see what happens.
Some of what?
Extract of pineal. - Yeah, that's a good idea.
One whiff of that stuff'll turn you into something out of a ...
god-damn medical encyclopaedia, man.
Beautiful fucking tits, man! - Man, your head will swell up like ...
a water melon. Probably gain about a 100 pounds in 2 hours.
Right! - Grow claws, bleeding warts.
Yes! - And then you notice about ...
6 huge hairy tits swelling up on your back.
Fantastic! - You go blind.
Your body would turn to wax. They'd have to put you in a ...
wheelbarrow, and when you scream for help you'll sound like a racoon.
Man, I'll 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? - 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 ...
Man, if I put you in the pool right now you'll sink like a ...
god-damn stone. You took too much, man. You took too much, too much.
Don't try and fight it, you'll get brain bubbles,
strokes, aneurysms. You'll just wither up and die.
And continue killing 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, and sacrifice ...
♪ I hear the cottonwoods whispering above, ♪
♪ Tammy, Tammy, Tammy's in love. ♪
What kind of rat-bastard psychotic would play that song right now,
at this moment?
When I came to the general back-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 in this room of excessive consumption ...
of almost every type of drug known to civilised man since 1544 A.D.
Ah, Debbie, thank God. Oh, Debbie.
Good Lord. Watch your knees, Sir.
What addict would need all these coconut husks and honeydew rinds?
Would the presence of junkies account for all these uneaten French fries?
These puddles of glazed ketchup on the bureau? Maybe so.
But then why all this booze? And these crude pornographic photos smeared with ...
mustard? These were not the hoof-prints of your normal ...
God-fearing junkie. It was too savage. Too aggressive.
Put your hands where I can see them. - Jesus, God, man!
Put your hands where I can see them! Put your hands where I can see them!
Grim memories and bad flashbacks. Get a grip.
Maintain. How many nights and weird mornings hat this shit been going on?
Something ugly had happened. I was sure of it.
Who's that? Shit, that's me.
No, no, please, I'm only the maid!
You're under arrest. - She must have used the pass key.
I noticed her sneaking, so I took her. - What made you do it? Who paid you?
Nobody. I'm the maid. - You're just a part of it as they are.
Part of what? - The dope ring. You must know what's ...
going on here. Why we're here? - I know you're cops.
But I thought you were just here for the convention. I swear. All I wanted ...
to do was clean up the room. I don't know anything about no dope.
Come on, baby, don't try to tell me you never heard of the Grange Gorman.
Oh, I swear to Jesus. - Maybe she's telling the truth.
Maybe she's not part of it. - No, I swear I'm not. I swear.
In that case, maybe she can help. - Oh, yes. I help you all you want!
I hate dope. - So do we.
We should put her on the payroll. - Do you think you can handle it?
What? - One phone call every day.
Don't worry if it doesn't add up. - You'd pay me for that?
You're damn right we would. But the first time that you say anything about ...
this to anybody you will go straight to prison for the rest of your life.
What's your name? - Alice.
Prove it! Ok.
Just ring Service and ask for Alice. - All right, Alice.
You'll be contacted by Inspector Rock. Arthur Rock.
He'll be posing as a politician. So you'll have no problem recognize him.
That's right. Inspector Rock will pay you, in cash.
1,000 bucks, the 9th of every month. - I'd do just about anything ...
for that. - You and a lot of other people.
Come here. Password: One hand washes the other.
The minute your hear that you say: I fear nothing. Say it.
I fear nothing. - All right,
now get the fuck out of here. Listen. Nice meeting you.
Oh, don't bother to make up the room. Just leave a pile of towels and soap ...
outside the door exactly at midnight. That way, we won't have to risk ...
another one of these little incidents. - Whatever you say, gentlemen.
Terrible gibberish. Splintered memories looming up out of the ...
time-fog. Just press "play".
This is it, the American Dream.
- We're sitting on the main nerve. - Yeah, yeah.
Don't get me started.
The owner always wanted to run away and join the circus when he was a kid.
Now the son of a bitch owns the circus.
Ah, man. Real license to steal.
Oh, yeah. The American Dream come true. Pure Horatio Alger.
Yeah. Welcome to the happy place.
Listen. Let's get down to brass tacks here.
- How much for the ape? - How much you got?
How much do you think he'd take for the ape?
Just wait here. I'll be back.
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!
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.
Is that your car?
- What's the bail? - There's too many zoos!
- Somebody stop them! - You poor fools don't understand.
This car is property of the World Bank. That money goes to Italy.
You can't put on a circus without a tent.
- This top is completely jammed. - Something's wrong with the motor.
We're all riders of the storm.
- Where are you, you fucking monkey? - You can't do that!
You people voted for Hubert Humphrey! And you killed Jesus!
There was every reason to believe that we'd been heading for trouble ...
that we'd pushed our luck a bit too far.
Oh, God! Shit!
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.
Hello. You folks wanna buy some heroin?
Hey, honkies. God-damn. - Pull ahead, pull ahead.
I wanna sell you some pure fucking smack.
This is the real stuff. That's right, I just got back from Vietnam.
I wanna sell you some pure fucking smack. Pure fuck!
God-damn, you bastard! Pull over! I'll kill you! I'll kill you!
Pull over. Come on. - Oh shit!
Ok, let's see here.
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 have fucked up too often on the Strip.
And when you're not even welcome in the cut-rate downtown places.
The North Star Coffee Lounge seemed like a fairly safe haven from our storms.
No hassles, no talk. Just a place to rest and regroup.
I wasn't even hungry. There was nothing in the atmosphere of the ...
North Star to put me on my guard. - Psst. 2 glasses of ice water with ice.
2 glasses of ice water with ice!
2!
She looked like a burnt out caricature of Jane Russell.
She was definitely in charge here.
He did it very casually but I knew that our peace was about ...
to be shattered. - What was that?
What is this? - It's a napkin.
Don't give me that Bullshit. I know what that means. You fat god-damn pimp bastard.
That's the name of a horse I used to own, ma'am. What's wrong with you?
The question mark was emphasised. - Listen, you son-of-a-bitch. I gotta take ...
a lot of shit in this place but I do not have to take it off no spic pimp!
Well, anybody that knows anything knows that.
Go on, pay your check and get the hell out of here! Do you want me to call the cops?
I'll call the fucking ... - Oh, shit!
Oh fuck!
Want me to call the cops?
How much is that lemon meringue pie? - Her eyes were feared but her brain ...
was functioning on survival level. - 35 cents.
How much is that lemon meringue pie? - 35 cents.
What a wasted town. No, honey.
Honey, no the whole pie. The whole pie.
What?
3?
3? 4?
5?
Call it 5.
I'll be in the car.
The sight of a blade had triggered bad memories.
The glazed look in her eyes said her throat has been cut.
She was still in the grip of paralysis when we left.
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 could possibly believe it.
15 minutes to get my attorney to the airport.
Could we make it?
Oh, shit! - Oh God, you son-of-a-bitch! Oh God!
You're going the wrong way, man. - Fuck off, fat boy.
Stop, you fucker!
Take off right here! Take off right here!
God-damn, we're lost! What are we doing out here ...
on this godforsaken road? The airport is over there, man.
God-damn, it's over there! - I've never missed a plane yet.
What the fuck!
I'm gonna drop you next to the plane. - I'm gonna have to take the blame.
They'll crucify me. Right here. - Ridiculous, man. Just say ...
you were hitchhiking to the airport. And I picked you up.
You bastard. - Get out!
Hey, listen, don't take any guff from ...
these swine. And if you have any trouble, remember you can always send ...
a telegram to the right people.
Oh yeah, explaining my position. Some asshole wrote a poem about that once.
It's probably good advice if you have shit for brains.
There he goes. One of God's own prototypes.
A high-powered mutant of some kind 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 ♪
♪ Well I laughed ... ♪
We're all wired into a survival trip now. No more of the speed that fuelled ...
the sixties. That was the fatal flaw in Tim Leary's trip.
He crashed around America selling consciousness expansion ...
without ever giving a thought to the grim meat-hook realities that ...
were lying in wait for all those people who took him seriously.
All those pathetically eager acid freaks who thought they could buy ...
peace and understanding for 3 bucks a hit. But their loss and failure ...
is ours too. What Leary took down with him ...
was the central illusion of a whole lifestyle that he helped create.
A generation of permanent cripples, failed seekers who never understood ...
the essential old mystic fallacy of the acid culture:
the desperate assumption that somebody or at least some force is tending the ...
light at the end of the tunnel.
There was only one road back to LA, US Interstate 15.
Just a flat-out high-speed burn through Baker and Barstow and Berdoo.
Then on to the Hollywood freeway, straight into frantic oblivion:
safety, obscurity, just another freak in the freak kingdom.
♪ I was born in a crossfire 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' Jack Flash. ♪