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英语剧本《恐惧拉斯维加斯》

时间:2007-10-27 22:00:28来源: 作者:
Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas (1998)
by Terry Gilliam & Toy Grisoni.

BLACK SCREEN



A desert wind moans sadly.  From somewhere within the wind

comes the tinkly, syrupy-sweet sounds of the Lennon Sisters

singing "My Favorite Things." A series of sepia images of

anti-war protests from the mid-sixties appear one after

another on the screen.



In the violently scrawled style of Ralph Steadman, the title

FEAR AND LOATHING IN LAS VEGAS splashes onto the screen.  A

beat, and then it runs down and off revealing:



TITLE: "He who makes a beast of himself

  Gets rid of the pain

  Of being a man."

  Dr. Johnson



The VOICE OF HUNTER S. THOMPSON -- a.k.a. RAOUL DUKE:



                    DUKE (V/O)

       We were somewhere around Barstow on

       the edge of the desert when the

       drugs began to take hold.



AAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!!!



A red Chevy convertible -- THE RED SHARK -- wipes the black

screen.



EXT. ON THE ROAD TO LAS VEGAS - DAY



AAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!!!



THE RED SHARK races down the desert highway at a hundred

miles an hour.  THE STONES' "Sympathy For the Devil" blares.



AT THE WHEEL



STRANGELY STILL AND TENSE, RAOUL DUKE DRIVES -- SKELETAL,

BEER IN HAND -- STARES STRAIGHT AHEAD.



BESIDE HIM, FACE TURNED TO THE SUN, EYES CLOSED BEHIND

WRAPAROUND SPANISH SUNGLASSES, IS HIS SWARTHY AND UNNERVINGLY

UNPREDICTABLE ATTORNEY, DR. GONZO.



The music pounds DUKE stares straight ahead.  GONZO froths

up a can of beer - uses it as shaving foam.



                    DUKE (V/O)

       I remember saying something like:

       "I feel a bit lightheaded.  Maybe

       you should drive..."



GONZO starts shaving.



                                                       2.





                    DUKE (V/O)

       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...



Close on DUKE -- shadows flutter across his face.  The

reflections of bats swirl within his eyes.  We push in close

to one eye ball -- SCREECHING SWIRLING BAT-LIKE SHAPES!



AAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!!!



                    DUKE (V/O)

       ... and a voice was screaming: Holy

       Jesus!  What are these goddamn

       animals?



CUT TO WIDE SHOT OF CAR -



DUKE, eyes rigid, flails at the air.  No bats anywhere.

GONZO casually looks over...



                    GONZO

       What are you yelling about?



DUCK SCREECHES to the side of the road.  The sudden wrench

makes GONZO nick his face with his razor.



                    DUKE

       Never mind.  It's your turn to drive.



                    DUKE (V/O)

       No point mentioning these bats.  I

       thought.  The poor bastard will see

       them soon enough.



DUKE hops out of the car, keeping an eye out for bats,

frantically opens the trunk to reveal what looks like A

MOBILE POLICE NARCOTICS LAB.  DUKE desperately rifles

through the impressive stash.



                    DUKE (V/O)

       We had two bags of grass, seventy-

       five pellets of mescaline, five

       sheets of high powered blotter

       acid, a salt shaker half full of

       cocaine, a whole galaxy of multi-

       colored uppers, downers, screamers,

       laughers... Also a quart of tequila,

       a quart of rum, a case of beer, a

       pint of raw ether and two dozen

       amyls.



                                                       3.





DUKE, eyes darting madly as he hears what sounds like the

SHRIEKS OF BATS returning, grabs an assortment along with

another six-pack of beer - slams the trunk shut and dives

back into the car.



                    DUKE (V/O)

       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 RED SHARK RACES INTO THE DISTANCE... on the ground,

weakly flapping is a SEMI-SQUASHED, SLOWLY DYING ANIMAL... A

BAT?



EXT. FURTHER DOWN THE ROAD TO LAS VEGAS - DAY



IN THE RED SHARK



GONZO grips the wheel - stares maniacally down the road - a

lousy driver.



                    DUKE (V/O)

       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.



The radio news wars with "SYMPATHY FOR THE DEVIL" on a tape

recorder.



                    RADIO NEWS

       An overdose of heroin was listed as

       the official cause of death for

       pretty 19 year old Diane Hanby

       whose body was found stuffed in a

       refrigerator last week...



GONZO changes the station - "ONE TOKE OVER THE LINE, SWEET

JESUS, ONE TOKE OVER THE LINE" vies with "SYMPATHY"... He

sings along - washes a couple of pills back with a new beer.

The RED SHARK fishtails.



                    GONZO

       "One toke over the line, sweet

       Jesus."



                                                       4.





                    DUKE

              (muttering to himself)

       One toke.  You poor fool.  Wait

       till you see those goddamn bats.



UP AHEAD - AT THE SIDE OF THE DESERTED ROAD



A LONE HITCHHIKER spots them, jumps up and sticks out a

thumb.  The RED SHARK roars past.  Then, fifty yards down

the road...



                    GONZO

       Let's give that boy a lift.



GONZO wrenches the wheel - THE RED SHARK swerves to the side

of the road.



                    DUKE

       We can't stop here - this is bat

       country!



GONZO JAMS THE CAR INTO REVERSE AND ROCKETS BACKWARDS.  The

HITCHHIKER races to the car.  A poor OKIE KID with a big grin.



                    HITCHHIKER

       Hot damn!  I never rode in a

       convertible before!



Then the big grin freezes on the OKIE KID's face at the

sight of: DUKE and GONZO looking out at him with HYPER-

NORMAL, shit-eating SMILES.



                    DUKE

       Is that right?  Well, I guess

       you're about ready, eh?



The HITCHHIKER hesitates.



                    GONZO

       We're your friends.  We're not like

       the others.



                    DUKE

              (hissing sharply)

       No more of that talk or I'll put

       the leeches on you.



DUKE turns back to the HITCHHIKER - smiles reassuringly.



EXT. EVEN FURTHER DOWN THE ROAD TO LAS VEGAS - DAY



The HITCHHIKER sits nervously in the back seat as the RED

SHARK screams down the road.



                                                       5.





GONZO sings along to the tape player.



The HITCHHIKER's eyes go to the door - considers jumping out

and taking his chances.



DUKE, sweating bullets, STARES AT THE HITCHHIKER in the rear

view mirror.



                    DUKE (V/O)

       How long could we maintain, I

       wondered.  How long before one of

       us starts raving and jabbering at

       this boy?  What will he think then?

       This same lonely desert was the

       last known home of the Manson family.



The HITCHHIKER's eyes notice a thin line of blood trickling

down GONZO's neck.



                    DUKE (V/O)

       Would he make that grim connection

       when my attorney starts screaming

       about bats and huge manta rays

       coming down on the car?



DUKE's mouth moves intermittently - sometimes in sync with

the words, sometimes not.



                    DUKE (V/O)

       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 some kind

       of outback Nazi law enforcement

       agency, and they'll run us down

       like dogs...



                    DUKE

              (out loud to himself)

       Jesus!  Did I say that?



                    DUKE (V/O)

       Or just think it?  Was I talking?

       Did they hear me?



                    GONZO

              (reassuringly to HITCHHIKER)

       It's okay.  He's admiring the shape

       of your skull.



DUKE gives the HITCHHIKER a FINE BIG GRIN and the HITCHHIKER

giggles nervously.



                                                       6.





                    DUKE (V/O)

       Maybe I better have a chat with

       this boy I thought.  Perhaps if I

       explain things, he'll rest easy...



                    DUKE

              (roaring over the

              road noise)

       THERE'S ONE THING YOU SHOULD

       PROBABLY UNDERSTAND --



The HITCHHIKER stares at him, not blinking.



                    DUKE

              (yells)

       CAN YOU HEAR ME?



The HITCHHIKER nods -- giggles -- terrified.  DUKE climbs

into the back seat.



                    DUKE

       That's good.  Because 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!

       This is important, goddamnit!  This

       is a true story!...

              (WHACKS the BACK OF

              THE DRIVER'S SEAT

              with his fist)





The CAR SWERVES SICKENINGLY, then straightens out.



                    GONZO

              (screams)

       Keep your hands off my fucking neck!



The HITCHHIKER makes a sudden lunge for freedom.  DUKE GRABS

HIM BACK DOWN.



                    DUKE (V/O)

       Our vibrations were getting nasty --

       but why?  Was there no communication

       in this car?  Had we deteriorated

       to the level of dumb beasts?



The HITCHHIKER STRUGGLES IN PANIC.



                                                       7.





                    DUKE

              (to HITCHHIKER)

       I want you to understand that this

       man at the wheel is my attorney!

       He's not just some dingbat I found

       on the Strip.  He's a foreigner.  I

       think he's probably Samoan.  But it

       doesn't matter, does it?  Are you

       prejudiced?



                    HITCHHIKER

       Hell, no!



                    DUKE

       I didn't think so.  Because in

       spite of his race, this man is

       extremely valuable to me.  Hell, I

       forgot all about this beer.  You

       want one?

              (HITCHHIKER shakes

              his head)

       How about some ether?



                    HITCHHIKER

       What?



                    DUKE

       Never mind.  Let's get right to the

       heart of this thing.  Twenty-four

       hours ago we were sitting in the

       Pogo Lounge of the Beverly Wills

       Hotel...



INT. THE BEVERLY WILLS HOTEL POGO LOUNGE 1971 - DAY



A uniformed DWARF, carries a shockingly PINK TELEPHONE

through the glittering, tranquil POGO LOUNGE CROWD.  They

are the ELOI.  HENDRIX AFROS and DROOPING MUSTACHES and BELL

BOTTOMS and LOVE BEADS and BELLS.  ACTRESSES sip Singapore

Slings and PROMOTERS sip ACTRESSES in this MONIED, SANITISED

VERSION OF THE GREAT REVOLUTION YEARS.



                    DUKE (V/O)

       ... in the patio section, of

       course, drinking Singapore Slings

       with mescal on the side, hiding

       from the brutish realities of this

       foul year of Our Lord, 1971.



The DWARF reaches DUKE -- T-shirt, levis, sneakers and

shades.  GONZO -- white rayon bellbottoms and a khaki tank

top undershirt.  They are in the middle of a serious

conversation.



                                                       8.





                    DUKE

       I'm telling you, the Salazar story

       is getting too complicated.  The

       weasels have started closing in.



The DWARF sneers.



                    DWARF

       Perhaps this is the call you've

       been waiting for all this time,

       sir...



DUKE lifts the receiver -- listens...



                    DUKE

       Uh-huh... Uh-huh... Uh-huh...



DUKE hangs up the PHONE with the DEAD-PAN EXPRESSION OF A

MOVIE SPY.



                    DWARF

       That was headquarters.  They want

       me to go to Las Vegas at once and

       make contact with a Portuguese

       photographer named Lacerda.  He'll

       have the details.  All I have to do

       is check into my sound proof suite

       and he'll seek me out.



GONZO, says nothing for a moment, then POUNDS the table!



                    GONZO

       God hell!  I think I see the

       pattern!  This one sounds like real

       trouble!  You're going to need

       plenty of legal advice before this

       thing is over.  As your attorney I

       must advise you that you'll need a

       very fast car with no top and after

       that, the cocaine.  And then the

       tape recorder, for special music,

       and some Acapulco shirts...

              (GONZO tucks his

              khaki undershirt into

              his white

              bellbottoms -- he

              means business!)

       This blows my weekend, because

       naturally I'll have to go with

       you -- and we'll have to arm

       ourselves.



                                                       9.





                    DUKE

       Why not?  If a thing's worth doing,

       it's worth doing right.



DUKE and GONZO are up and off.  The DWARF chases after them

with the (very large) check in his hand.



They sweep out through the Lounge door, unaware of it

swinging back into the face of the pursuing DWARF.



                    DUKE

       I tell you, my man.  This is the

       American Dream in action!  We'd be

       fools not to ride this strange

       torpedo all the way to the end.



                    GONZO

       Indeed.  We must do it.  What kind

       of story is this?



EXT. BEVERLY WILLS HOTEL - FRONT ENTRANCE - DAY



DUKE and GONZO emerge.



                    DUKE

       The Mint 400!  The richest off-road

       race for motorcycles and dune-

       buggies in the history of organized

       sport!

              (handing parking

              ticket to Valet)

       -- a fantastic spectacle in honor

       of some fatback grossero who owns

       the luxurious Mint Hotel in the

       heart of downtown Vegas... at least

       that's what the press release says.



Their car arrives -- rusted out, smashed door panels.  They

jump in.



                    DUKE

       We're going to have to drum it up

       on our own.  Pure Gonzo Journalism.



And they're off in a cloud of black exhaust as the nose-

bleeding DWARF stumbles out with the unpaid bill in his hand.



EXT. SUNSET BLVD - DAY



The PINTO races through shot.



                    DUKE (V/O)

       Getting hold of the drugs and

       shirts had been no problem...



                                                      10.





EXT. POLYNESIAN BAR - DAY



The PINTO skids to a halt outside Polynesian bar, the back

window full of Hawaiian shirts.



                    DUKE (V/O CONT'D)

       ... but the car and tape recorder

       were not easy things to round up at

       6:30 on a Friday afternoon in

       Hollywood.



INT. POLYNESIAN BAR - DAY



TORN YELLOW PAGES with dealer's ads ticked off lie in a pile

as GONZO yells into a PAYPHONE.  DUKE carries over four

Singapore Slings.



                    GONZO

       O.K., O.K., yes.  Hang onto it.

       We'll be there in thirty minutes.

              (to DUKE -- hand over

              the PHONE)

       I finally located a car with

       adequate horsepower and the proper

       coloring.

              (into PHONE)

       What?!  OF COURSE the gentleman has

       a major credit card!  Do you

       realize who the fuck you're talking

       to?



                    DUKE

       Don't take any guff from these

       swine.

              (GONZO slams the

              phone down)

       Now we need a sound store with the

       finest equipment.  Nothing dinky.

       One of those new Belgian Heliowatts

       with a voice-activated shotgun

       mike, for picking up conversations

       in oncoming cars.



                    GONZO

       We won't make the nut unless we

       have unlimited credit.



                    DUKE

       We will.  You Samoans are all the

       same.  You have no faith in the

       essential decency of the white

       man's culture.



                                                      11.





EXT. SUNSET BLVD - DUSK



The PINTO races down street.



                    DUKE (V/O)

       The store was closed, but the

       salesman said he would wait, if we

       hurried...



EXT. SUNSET BLVD - TRAFFIC JAM - DUSK



They're stuck in a traffic jam -- clouds of exhaust.  DUKE

BANGS ON THE HORN IN FURY.



                    DUKE (V/O)

       But we were delayed en route when a

       Stingray in front of us killed a

       pedestrain.



Directly in front of them: BLOODY CARNAGE -- a covered

corpse is loaded into an ambulance by PARAMEDICS.



EXT. CAR RENTAL AGENCY - NIGHT



                    DUKE (V/O)

       We had trouble, again, at the car

       rental agency.



Behind the wheel of the RED SHARK: DUKE grins with

satisfaction -- checking it out.  A nervous AGENT holds out

a clipboard.  DUKE signs without looking at the rental papers.



                    AGENT

       Say... uh... you fellas are going

       to be careful with this car, aren't

       you?



                    DUKE

       Of course.



DUKE throws the car into reverse -- roars backwards past the

gas pumps to where GONZO is unloading their rusted out car.



                    AGENT

       Well, good god!  You just backed

       over that two foot concrete abutment

       and you didn't even slow down!

       Forty-five in reverse!  And you

       barely missed the pump!



                    DUKE

       No harm done.  I always test the

       transmission that way.  The rear

       end.  For stress factors.



                                                      12.





GONZO transfers boxes of new sound equipment and a large box

of rum and ice into the RED SHARK.



                    AGENT

       Say.  Are you fellows drinking?



                    DUKE

       Not me.  We're responsible people.



He JAMS the car into LOW GEAR and lurches into traffic.  The

AGENT runs into the street and helplessly watches them go.



                    GONZO

       There's another worrier.  He's

       probably all cranked up on speed.



EXT. RUNDOWN BEACH HOUSE - NIGHT



STRANGE AND MAGICAL.  In the moonlight: the silhouetted

figures of DUKE and GONZO as they pack the RED SHARK.



                    DUKE (V/O)

       We spent the rest of that night

       rounding up materials and packing

       the car.  Then we ate some mescaline

       and went swimming.



The surf crashes in the distance...



EXT. PACIFIC OCEAN - NIGHT



DUKE cries out as he dives into the ocean.  He lets himself

float up through the silvery bubbles...



DUKE AND GONZO FLOAT BEATIFICALLY IN THE GLOWING, SHIMMERING

MOONLIT SURF.



                    DUKE (V/O)

       Our trip was different.  It was to

       be a classic affirmation of

       everything right and true in the

       national character; a gross,

       physical salute to the fantastic

       possibilities of life in this

       country.  But only for those with

       true grit...



EXT. AND EVEN FURTHER DOWN THE ROAD TO LAS VEGAS - DAY



DUKE's intense face.



                    DUKE

       ...and we're chock full of that!



                                                      13.





                    GONZO

       Damn right!



                    DUKE

       My attorney understands this

       concept, despite his racial handicap.

       But do you?!



The HITCHHIKER nods -- giggles -- petrified.



                    DUKE (V/O)

       He said he understood, but I could

       see in his eyes that he didn't.  He

       was lying to me.



                    GONZO

       My heart!



GONZO clutches his heart.  The car veers off the road and

screeches to a halt.  He slumps over the wheel.



                    GONZO (CONT'D)

       Where's the medicine?



                    DUKE

       The medicine?  Yes, it's right here.



DUKE spills out 4 AMYL CAPSULES from a tin.



                    DUKE

       Don't worry, this man has a bad

       heart... Angina Pectoris.  But we

       have a cure for it.



DUKE and GONZO break 2 AMYLS apiece -- INHALE DEEPLY.  GONZO

falls back on the seat, staring straight up at the sun.  The

HITCHHIKER looks petrified.



                    GONZO

              (suddenly flailing

              his naked arms at the sky)

       Turn up the fucking music!  My

       heart feels like an alligator!

       Volume!  Clarity!  Bass!  We must

       have bass!  What's wrong with us?

       Are you goddamn old ladies?



                    DUKE

              (turns up music to

              full volume)

       You scurvy shyster bastard!  Watch

       your language!  You're talking to a

       Doctor of Journalism!



                                                      14.





                    GONZO

              (laughing uncontrollably)

       What the fuck are we doing out here?

       Somebody call the police!  We need

       help!



                    DUKE

              (to HITCHHIKER)

       Pay no attention to this swine.  He

       can't handle the medicine.

              (he begins laughing)





                    GONZO

              (to the HITCHHIKER)

       The truth is we're going to Vegas

       to croak a scag baron named Savage

       Henry.  I've known him for years

       but he ripped us off -- and you

       know what that means, right?



GONZO pulls out a .357 Magnum -- waves it around.



                    GONZO (CONT'D)

       Savage Henry has cashed his check!

       We're going to rip his lungs out!



                    DUKE

       And eat them!  That bastard won't

       get away with this!  What's going

       on in this country when a scum

       sucker like that can get away with

       sandbagging a Doctor of Journalism?



GONZO cracks ANOTHER AMYL.



The HITCHHIKER SCRAMBLES OUT OF THE CAR, DOWN THE TRUNK LID,

AND FLEES.



                    HITCHHIKER

       Thanks for the ride.  Thanks a lot.

       I like you guys.  Don't worry about

       me.



                    DUKE

              (yells)

       Wait a minute!  Come back and have

       a beer!



The HITCHHIKER RUNS from car.



                                                      15.





                    GONZO

       Good riddance.  That boy made me

       nervous.  Did you see his eyes?

              (laughing)

       Jesus, this is good medicine.



DUKE glances back at the running HITCHHIKER.



                    DUKE

              (suddenly clambering

              into the front seat)

       Move over!!  We have to get out of

       California before that kid finds a

       cop!



DUKE GUNS THE RED SHARK -- TAKES OFF DOWN THE ROAD...



EXT. UNBELIEVABLY FAR DOWN THE ROAD TO LAS VEGAS - DAY



THE RED SHARK races -- DUKE at the wheel -- straight ahead

driving.



                    DUKE (V/O)

       It was absolutely imperative that

       we get to the Mint Hotel before the

       deadline for press registration.

       Otherwise, we might have to pay for

       our suite.



GONZO wrestles with a shaker of COCAINE.  The top comes off

and the powder swirls away on the wind.



                    GONZO

       Oh, Jesus!  Did you see what god

       just did to us?



                    DUKE

       God didn't do that!  You did it!

       You're a fucking narcotics agent,

       that was our cocaine, you pig!



                    GONZO

              (waving his .357

              Magnum at Duke)

       You better be careful.  Plenty of

       vultures out here.  They'll pick

       your bones clean before morning.



                    DUKE

       You whore!



GONZO tears up a BLOTTER OF ACID.



                                                      16.





                    GONZO

       Here -- chew this.  It's your half

       of the acid.



DUKE takes his half -- chews it.



                    DUKE

       How long do I have?



                    GONZO

       Maybe thirty more minutes.  As your

       attorney, I advise you to drive at

       top speed.  It'll be a goddamn

       miracle if we can get there before

       you turn into a wild animal.  Are

       you ready for that?  Checking into

       a Vegas hotel under a phony name

       with intent to commit capital fraud

       and a head full of acid.



                    DUKE (V/O)

       Thirty minutes.  It was going to be

       very close.



The RED SHARK screams along the highway past a billboard:

"DON'T GAMBLE WITH MARIJUANA! \ IN NEVADA: POSSESSION - 20

YEARS; SALE - LIFE!!"



EXT. LAS VEGAS MINT HOTEL - DUSK



The RED SHARK pulls up outside the MINT.  A great banner

spanning the street announces the MINT 400.



DUKE can feel the drug surging up inside him.  Clutching a

buckled beer can, sweat pouring, he stares fixedly at the

TICKET the ATTENDANT gives him.



                    DUKE

       I need this, right?



                    ATTENDANT

       I'll remember your face.



DUKE stares -- losing it...



                    DUKE (V/O)

       There is no way of explaining the

       terror I felt.



INT. HOTEL LOBBY - DAY



DUKE waits in line at the front desk -- RIGID WITH PENT UP

ENERGY.  GONZO's ahead of him -- muscling in -- trying to

queue jump and failing.



                                                      17.





                    DUKE (V/O)

       I was pouring sweat.  My blood is

       too thick for Nevada.  I've never

       been able to properly explain

       myself in this climate.



A COUPLE move off and DUKE jerks forward -- stops -- eyes

fixed on the stony FEMALE RESERVATIONS CLERK.



                    DUKE (V/O CONT'D)

       Be quiet, be calm... name, rank,

       and press affiliation, nothing

       else...



DUKE moves ANOTHER RIGID STEP CLOSER to the desk -- the

tension almost snapping him in two.  GONZO's FLAPPING

AROUND -- absolutely no success.



Something catches DUKE's eye... He REMAINS ROOTED -- his

eyes turning to the VEGETAL PAISLEY PATTERNS ON THE CARPET

WHICH ARE SHIFTING -- UNDULATING.  THE CARPET PATTERNS ARE

INEXORABLY CREEPING UP THE WALLS...



                    DUKE (V/O CONT'D)

       ...ignore this terrible drug,

       pretend it's not happening...



The LAST PEOPLE leave -- with A FINAL, STIFF MOVE, DUKE

comes face to face with the RESERVATIONS CLERK... AND

EXPLODES!



                    DUKE

       HI THERE.  MY NAME... AH, RAOUL

       DUKE... ON... ON THAT LIST, THAT'S

       FOR SURE.  FREE LUNCH, FINAL

       WISDOM, TOTAL COVERAGE... WHY NOT?

       I HAVE MY ATTORNEY WITH ME, AND I

       REALIZE OF COURSE...



As DUKE stares at her, BABBLING, her FACE BEGINS TO MORPH.

He tries to stop it happening by TALKING FASTER.



                    DUKE

       ... THAT HIS NAME IS NOT ON THE

       LIST, BUT WE MUST HAVE THAT SUITE.

       YES.  JUST CHECK THE LIST AND

       YOU'LL SEE.  DON'T WORRY.  WHAT'S

       THE SCORE HERE?  WHAT'S NEXT?



DUKE sags -- grips the desk -- WHITE KNUCKLES.



                                                      18.





                    RESERVATIONS CLERK

              (hands him an envelope)

       Your suite's not ready yet.  But

       there's somebody looking for you.



Her face is CHANGING -- SWELLING -- PULSING...



                    DUKE

              (shouts)

       NO!  WHY?  WE HAVEN'T DONE ANYTHING

       YET!



The FACE OF THE RESERVATIONS CLERK TURNS GREEN & GROWS FANGS.

DEADLY POISON!  DUKE LUNGES BACK at GONZO, who GRIPS his arm

intensely -- REACHES OUT to take the ENVELOPE.



                    GONZO

       I can handle this.  This man has a

       bad heart, but I have plenty of

       medicine.  My name is Dr. Gonzo.

       Prepare our suite at once.  We'll

       be in the bar.



GONZO manoeuvres DUKE away from the desk.  DUKE looks

back -- the RESERVATIONS CLERKS is now a MORAY EEL -- green

jowls and fangs.



INT. NAUTICAL BAR - DAY



The bar -- OILY PEOPLE -- quiet music -- nautical theme.

DUKE and GONZO at the bar, a marlin spike hanging on the

wall behind them.  DUKE has turned to stone...



                    GONZO

              (to the bartender)

       Two Cuba Libres with beer and

       mescal on the side.

              (opens the envelope)

       Who's Lacerda, he's waiting for us

       in a room on the twelfth floor?



                    DUKE

       Lacerda?



                    DUKE (V/O)

       I couldn't remember.  The name rang

       a bell, but I couldn't concentrate.

       Terrible things were happening all

       around us...



DUKE is staring -- RAPT -- TERRIFIED.  BLOOD FLOWS FREELY

onto the floor.  DUKE keeps his voice low.



                                                      19.





                    DUKE

       Order some golf shoes.  Otherwise,

       we'll never get out of this place

       alive.  It's impossible to walk in

       this muck -- no footing at all...



DUKE looks up -- GONZO has disappeared.



DUKE looks around him -- the entire room has TRANSFORMED

into a ROOM FILLED WITH REPTILES IN CLOTHES, DRINKING AND

GNAWING AT ONE ANOTHER.



                    DUKE (V/O)

       I was right in the middle of a

       fucking reptile zoo.  And somebody

       was giving booze to these goddamn

       things!  It won't be long before

       they tear us to shreds!



GONZO IS SUDDENLY BACK -- AT DUKE'S SHOULDER.



                    GONZO

       If you think we're in trouble now

       wait until you see what's happening

       in the elevators.



GONZO removes his sunshades and we see he's been crying...

as he speaks he seems to be floating.  Duke struggles to

keep him in his line of vision.



                    GONZO

       I just went upstairs to see this

       man Lacerda.  I told him I knew

       what he was up to...

              (GONZO rallies --

              turns fierce)

       He says he's a photographer!  But

       when I mentioned Savage Henry he

       freaked!  He knows we're onto him!



                    DUKE

       But what about our room?  And the

       golf shoes?



A GROUP OF REPTILES AT A TABLE ACROSS THE ROOM stares at

them, BLOOD DRIPPING FROM THEIR FANGS.



                    DUKE (CONT'D)

              (grabbing GONZO

              trying to hold him still)

       Holy shit!  Look at that bunch over

       there!  They've spotted us!



                                                      20.





Cut to wider shot -- DUKE is holding on to a man standing

next to him at the bar.  The room has returned to normality.

GONZO is sitting in his original position.



                    GONZO

              (downs his drink --

              gets up)

       That's the press table.  Where you

       have to sign in for our credentials.

       Shit, let's get it over with.  You

       handle that, and I'll check on the

       room.



                    DUKE

       No, no.  Don't leave me!



Black screen.



INT. MINT HOTEL SUITE - DUSK



A TELEVISION shows the NIGHTLY NEWS.  A BUDDHIST MONK,

protesting the war, sets himself on fire.  A very nervous

BELL BOY is laying out GONZO's order.  A marlin spike is on

the floor next to DUKE.



                    BELL BOY

       Four club sandwiches, four shrimp

       cocktails.



                    DUKE

       There's a big... machine in the

       sky... some kind of electric snake...



DUKE is curled by the window -- MESMERIZED by an unseen neon

sign outside the window.  His eyes fill with a million

colored lights.



                    BELL BOY

       ... a quart of rum...



                    DUKE

       ... coming straight at us.



                    GONZO

       Shoot it.



                    DUKE

       Not yet.  I want to study its habits.



                    BELL BOY

       ... and nine fresh grapefruit.



                                                      21.





                    GONZO

       Vitamin C.  We'll need all we can

       get.



GONZO sees the BELL BOY out the door -- turns and lays into

DUKE.



                    GONZO

       Look, you've got to stop this talk

       about snakes and leeches and

       lizards and that stuff.  It's

       making me sick!



DUKE stares -- hears the drone of B52 BOMBERS...



On TV: The LAOS INVASION -- A SERIES OF HORRIFYING

DISASTERS -- EXPLOSIONS AND TWISTED WRECKAGE.



Newsreel footage of MAI LAI MASSACRE and the LIEUTENANT

CALLEY court-martial.



                    DUKE

       What are you talking about?



                    GONZO

       You bastard!  They'll never let us

       back in that place.  I leave you

       alone for three minutes and you

       start waving that goddamn marlin

       spike around -- yelling about

       reptiles!  You scared the shit out

       of those people!  They were ready

       to call the cops.  Hell, the only

       reason they gave us press passes

       was to get you out of there...



A knock at the door.  DUKE and GONZO break out in a sweat.



                    DUKE

       Oh my God!  Who's that?!



GONZO STICKS HIS GUN IN HIS WAISTBAND -- opens the door to

LACERDA -- BOUNCING WITH PUPPY DOG ENTHUSIASM.  GONZO stares

at a man he instantly hates -- watches him with deep

suspicion.



                    LACERDA

       Duke?  I'm Lacerda your photographer.

       Got your press passes?  Good, good.

       Too bad you missed the bikes

       checking in.  My, what a sight!



DUKE watches the B-52S DROP THEIR BOMB LOADS.



                                                      22.





Looking down to the thick, patterned carpet, DUKE sees the

BOMBS EXPLODE like vicious flowers.



DUKE looks up: LACERDA is a war photographer -- bruised,

filthy and blood spattered.  LACERDA approaches him --

talking a foreign language.



                    LACERDA

       Husquavarnas.  Yamahas.  Kawaskis.

       Maicos.  Pursang.  Swedish Fireballs.

       Couple of Triumphs, here and there

       a CZ.  All very fast.  What a race

       it's gonna be.



DUKE screws up his eyes -- WILLS NORMALITY BACK.  LACERDA is

now just a keen photographer.L



                    LACERDA

       Well, we start at dawn.  Get a good

       night's sleep.  I know I will.



And with a cheerful wave, he's gone.  DUKE is in shock.



                    DUKE

              (weakly)

       That's good...



                    GONZO

       I think he's lying to us.  I could

       see it in his eyes.



                    DUKE

              (even weaker)

       They'll probably have a big net for

       us when we show up.



DUKE's attention returns to the devastation on the TV...



                    GONZO

       Turn that shit off!



GONZO kills the TV.



Black screen.



                    DUKE (V/O)

       Never lose sight of the primary

       responsibility.  Cover the story.

       But what was the story?  Nobody had

       bothered to say.



                                                      23.





EXT. DESERT - DAWN



Against A BIG ORANGE SUN, on a concrete slab, MEN FIRE

SHOTGUNS into the dawn sky.  Clay pigeons shatter.  The Mint

Gun Club.



Next to them, MOTORCYCLES REV -- preparing for the MINT 400

RACE: A hundred BIKERS, MECHANICS and assorted MOTORSPORT

TYPES milling around in the pit area; taping headlights,

topping off oil in the forks, last minute bolt tightening.



DUKE wanders through.



                    DUKE (V/O)

       The racers were ready at dawn.

       Very tense.  But the race didn't

       start until nine so we had three

       long hours to kill.



A sign by a long trestle table: "KOFFEE & DONUTS." DUKE

walks past -- ignoring the SMILING LADY behind the stall.



                    DUKE (V/O CONT'D)

       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 and we were gathered here, in

       Las Vegas, for a very special

       assignment.  And when it comes to

       things like this you don't fool

       around.



INT. RACE BAR TENT - DAY



A real pit of iniquity.  Slot Machines.  Crap tables.  Smoke.

Drunken shouting.  The absolute cream of the NATIONAL

SPORTING PRESS.



DUKE is at the bar, engaged in drunken conversation with a

LIFE REPORTER...showing him his notebook.



                    DUKE

       See..."Kill the body and the head

       will die"... the Frazier/Ali fight...



                    MAGAZINE REPORTER

       A proper end to the 60's... Ali

       beaten by a human hamburger!



                    DUKE

       And both Kennedy's murdered by

       mutants.



                                                      24.





A SHOUT goes up from outside.  The sound of engines revving.



                    REPORTER

       That's it!  They're starting!



In a sudden rush the PRESS CROWD make for the door taking

DUKE with them.



EXT. DESERT - DAY



MOTORCYCLES REV -- tension builds...



A flag goes down.  The CROWD cheers.  The MOTORCYCLES ROAR

AWAY.  A great cloud of dust goes up -- obscuring the RACERS

as they disappear into the desert...



A moment...



                    REPORTER

       Well, that's that.  They'll be back

       in an hour or so.  Let's go back to

       the bar.



The CROWD turns and streams back into the tent.



INT. RACE BAR TENT - DAY



DUKE heads for the bar along with the REST.  It's packed.

Drinks are ordered.



A shout from outside the tent goes up:



                    VOICE OFF

       Group 2!



The CROWD rushes for the door.  DUKE gets swept along.



EXT. DESERT - DAY



MOTORCYCLES REV.  A flag goes down.  The CROWD cheers.  The

MOTORCYCLES ROAR AWAY.  Another great cloud of dust goes up...



The CROWD head back for the bar.



INT. RACE BAR TENT - DAY



The CROWD surge back to the bar.



                    VOICE OFF

       Group 3!



This time DUKE fights his way free of the CROWD.



                                                      25.





                    DUKE (V/O)

       There was something like 190 more

       bikes waiting to start.  They were

       due to go off 10 at a time every 2

       minutes.



DUKE hits the bar.



                    DUKE

       Beer!



A middle-aged HOODLUM in a T-shirt booms up to the bar.



                    HOODLUM

       God damn!  What day is this --

       Saturday?



                    DUKE

       More like Sunday.



                    HOODLUM

       Hah!  That's a bitch, ain't it?

       Last night I was home in Long Beach

       and somebody said they were runnin'

       the Mint 400 today, so I says to my

       old lady, "Man, I'm goin'." So she

       gives me a lot of crap about it, so

       I start slappin' her around, and

       the next thing you know two guys I

       never seen before are beating me

       stupid.



                    VOICE OFF

       Group 4!



Outside, another batch of motorcycles roar away -- kicking

up more clouds of dust.



                    HOODLUM

       Then they gave me ten bucks, put me

       on a bus, and when I woke up here I

       was in downtown Vegas, and for a

       minute all I could think was, "O

       Jesus, who's divorcing me this

       time?" But then I remembered, by

       God!  I was here for the Mint 400.

       And, man, I tell you, it's wonderful

       to be here.  Just wonderful to be

       here with you people.



A silence.  A MAGAZINE REPORTER lunges across the bar --

grabs the BARTENDER.



                                                      26.





                    MAGAZINE REPORTER

       Senzaman wassyneeds!



                    DUKE

              (smacks the bar with

              his palm)

       Hell yes!  Bring us ten!



                    VOICE OFF

       Group 5!



                    MAGAZINE REPORTER

              (screams)

       I'll back it!

              (slides off his stool

              to the floor)





Outside, motorcycles roar away.  The dust cloud billows into

the tent -- getting denser.



                    MAGAZINE REPORTER (CONT'D)

              (on the floor)

       This is a magic moment in sport!

       It may never come again!  I once

       did the Triple Crown, but it was

       nothing like this.



A FROG-EYED WOMAN claws at the MAGAZINE REPORTER, tries to

haul him up.



                    FROG-EYED WOMAN

       Please stand up!  You're a

       correspondent for a major national

       magazine who's name we can't get

       clearance for!  Please!  You'd be a

       very handsome man if you'd just

       stand up!



                    MAGAZINE REPORTER

       Listen, madam.  I'm damn near

       intolerably handsome down here

       where I am.  You'd go crazy if I

       stood up!



A feverishly eager LACERDA appears out of the dust cloud, 3

cameras slung round his neck.



                    LACERDA

       Club soda, please.



                    FROG-EYED WOMAN

              (to MAGAZINE REPORTER)

       Please!  I love Life!



                                                      27.





                    LACERDA

              (to DUKE)

       Man, it's great out there!



                    DUKE

       Lunatics.



LACERDA grins.



                    VOICE OFF

       Group 6!



                    LACERDA

       Meet you outside!



LACERDA downs his drink -- hurries out through the crowd and

out into the cloud of dust.



EXT. DESERT - DAY



Nothing.  Except for a THICK CLOUD OF DUST.



Barely visible, a motorcycle comes speeding into the pits.

The RIDER staggers off his bike.  The PIT CREW gas it up and

sends it back with a FRESH RIDER.



DUKE watches him disappear back into the dust cloud.



                    DUKE (V/O)

       By 10 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" in any

       conventional press sense was absurd.



A HORN HONKS.  A shiny BLACK BRONCO with DRIVER.  LACERDA

hangs out of the window.



                    LACERDA

       It's great, isn't it?!  Jump in!



DUKE gets into the Bronco and they head into the DUST CLOUD.



EXT. DESERT - DAY



IN THE BRONCO.



DUKE hangs on with his beer.  Nothing all around but the

HUGE IMPENETRABLE CLOUD OF DUST.  LACERDA snaps madly away

at nothing at all!



                                                      28.





                    LACERDA

       I'll just keep trying different

       combos of film and lenses till I

       find one that works in this dust!



The SOUND OF MOTORCYCLES RACING...



We hear music and voices singing:



                    BATTLE HYMN

       "...As we go marching on

       When I reach my final campground,

       in

       that land beyond the sun,

       And the Great Commander asks me..."

       [What did he ask you, Rusty?]

       "Did you fight or did you run?"



A moment later, the Bronco races out of the dust.  DUKE

coughs, chokes, drinks beer.



                    BATTLE HYMN

              (continuing)

       [And what did you tell them,

       Rusty?]

       "We responded to their rifle fire

       with everything we had..."



The sound of gun shots...



A DUNE BUGGY races toward them, loaded down with THREE

RETIRED PETTY OFFICERS, DRUNK AS HELL.  The radio blares:

"THE BATTLE HYMN OF LIEUTENANT CALLEY."



The dune buggy is COVERED WITH OMINOUS SYMBOLS: SCREAMING

EAGLES CARRYING AMERICAN FLAGS IN THEIR CLAWS.  A slant-eyed

Snake being chopped to bits by a buzz-saw made of stars and

stripes.  A MACHINE GUN MOUNT on the passenger side.  They

yell over the roaring engines.



                    DUNE BUGGY DRIVER

       Where's the damn race?



                    DUKE

       Beats me.  We're just good patriotic

       Americans like yourself.



DUKE gives DUNE BUGGY PASSENGER #2 A NICE BIG GRIN.  In

response, the PASSENGER #2 narrows his eyes -- tightens his

grip on an automatic weapon.



                    DUNE BUGGY DRIVER

              (suspiciously)

       What outfit you fellas with?



                                                      29.





                    DUKE

       The sporting press.  We're

       friendlies.  Hired geeks.



The DRIVER and DUNE BUGGY PASSENGER #2 exchange looks.



                    DUKE

       If you want a good chase, you

       should get after that skunk from

       CBS News up ahead in the black jeep.

       He's the man responsible for that

       book, THE SELLING OF THE PENTAGON.



                    DUNE BUGGY PASSENGER #1

       HOT DAMN!



                    DUNE BUGGY PASSENGER #2

       A black jeep, you say?



And they ROAR away.



                    DUKE

       Take me back to the pits.



                    LACERDA

       No, no -- we have to go on.  We

       need total coverage.



DUKE gets out of the Bronco.



                    DUKE

       You're fired.



After a moment's hesitation, LACERDA and the BRONCO driver

roar away leaving DUKE alone in the cloud of dust.



                    DUKE (V/O)

       It was time.  I felt, for an

       Agonizing Reappraisal of the whole

       scene.  The race was definitely

       under way.  I had witnessed the

       start; I was sure of that much.

       But what now?



EXT. LAS VEGAS STREETS - NIGHT



MUSIC PUMPS OUT.  CRUISING IN THE RED SHARK IN VEGAS.  THE

SKY SWIRLS WITH MILLIONS OF NEON LIGHTS CHASING EACH OTHER

IN BAROQUE PATTERNS ACROSS GIGANTIC HOTEL SIGNS.  PSYCHEDELIC

LIGHT SHOWS TO LURE AND DERANGE THE INNOCENT.  CITY OF LOST

SOULS.



                                                      30.





                    DUKE

       Turn up the radio!  Turn up the

       tape machine!  Roll the windows

       down.  Let's taste this cool desert

       wind!  Aaah, yes!  This is what

       it's all about!



DUKE, beer in hand, drives -- a big smile for the world.

GONZO scans The Vegas Visitor.



                    DUKE (V/O)

       Total control now.  Tooling along

       the main drag on a Saturday night

       in Vegas, two good old boys in a

       fire apple red convertible...

       stoned, ripped, twisted... Good

       people!



                    GONZO

       How about "Nickel Nick's Slot

       Arcade?" "Hot Slots," that sounds

       heavy.  Twenty-nine cent hotdogs...



                    DUKE

       Look, what are we doing here?  Are

       we here to entertain ourselves, or

       to do the job?



                    GONZO

       To do the job, of course.  Here we

       go... a Crab Louie and quart of

       muscatel for twenty dollars!



The Shark hits a bump.



                    GONZO

       As your attorney I advise you to

       drive over to the Tropicana and

       pick up on Guy Lombardo.  He's in

       the Blue Room with his Royal

       Canadians.



They hit another bump.



                    DUKE

       Why?



                    GONZO

       Why what?



CUT to wide shot.  They are DRIVING AROUND IN CIRCLES in a

large casino parking lot, bumping over the dividers.



                                                      31.





                    DUKE

       Why should I pay out 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.



EXT. DESERT ROOM HOTEL - NIGHT



TWO BIG SCREAMING FACES.



                    DOORMAN #1

       What the hell are you doing?!



                    DOORMAN #2

       You can't park here!



                    DUKE

       Why not?  Is this not a reasonable

       place to park?



Reveal the RED SHARK parked on the sidewalk in front of the

Desert Inn.  TWO DOORMEN loom over the car hood.  The

MARQUEE says: TONIGHT.  DEBBIE REYNOLDS.



GONZO leaps from the car, waving a five-dollar bill at the

DOORMAN.



                    GONZO

       We want this car parked!  We drove

       all the way from L.A. for this show.

       We're friends of Debbie's.



A pause, then... the DOORMAN pockets the bill, hands them a

parking stub.  DUKE and GONZO hurry into the hotel.



INT. DESERT FROM HOTEL LOBBY - NIGHT



DUKE and GONZO walk through the lobby.  Black, mirrored,

sleek, classy.



                    DUKE

       Holy shit!  They almost had us

       there!  That was quick thinking.



                    GONZO

       What do you expect?  I'm your

       attorney.  You owe me five bucks.

       I want it now.



DUKE shrugs and hands over the $5.



                                                      32.





                    DUKE (V/O)

       This was Bob Hope's turf.  Frank

       Sinatra's.  Spiro Agnew's.  It

       seemed inappropriate to be haggling

       about nickel/dime bribes for the

       parking lot attendant.



A WINE-COLORED TUXEDO stops them at the entrance to the

ballroom.



                    WINE-COLORED TUXEDO

       Sorry, full house.



                    GONZO

       Goddamnit, we drove all the way

       from L.A.



                    WINE-COLORED TUXEDO

       I said there are no seats left...

       at any price.



                    GONZO

       Fuck seats!  We're old friends of

       Debbie's.  I used to romp with her.



GONZO and the WINE-COLORED TUXEDO get into an ugly arm-

waving negotiation.



                    DUKE (V/O)

       After a lot of bad noise, he let us

       in for nothing provided we would

       stand quietly at the back and not

       smoke.



As DUKE and GONZO disappear through the door we can hear the

orchestra blasting out a HIGHLY BLANDIZED "SGT. PEPPER'S

LONELY HEARTS CLUB BAND."



A beat.



The door flies open and BOUNCERS manhandle DUKE and GONZO

out.  Despite the rough treatment they're both SCREECHING

WITH LAUGHTER.



                    GONZO

       Jesus creeping shit!



                    DUKE

              (tears streaming)

       Did the mescaline just kick in?  Or

       was that Debbie Reynolds in a

       silver Afro wig?!



                                                      33.





                    GONZO

              (in hysteria)

       We wandered into a fucking time

       capsule!



EXT. LAS VEGAS STREETS - NIGHT



DUKE DRIVES FAST into the night.  They're both LAUGHING

HYSTERICALLY.



                    DUKE

              (in hysteria)

       We wandered into a fucking time

       capsule!



THEN... GONZO finds a TINY TEAR IN HIS JACKET...



                    GONZO

       What's this?...



GONZO is instantly MOROSE.



                    GONZO

       That scum...



GONZO twists round in the car -- SCREAMS back into the night.



                    GONZO

       SCUM!  I know where you live!  I'll

       find you and burn down your fucking

       house!



EXT. BAZOOKO CIRCUS - NIGHT



A hundred foot high neon clown: BAZOOKO CIRCUS.



The RED SHARK pulls up beneath the sign.



                    DUKE

       This is the place.  They'll never

       fuck with us here.



                    GONZO

       Where's the ether?  This mescaline

       isn't working.



EXT. BAZOOKO CIRCUS CASINO - NIGHT



Into the GLARING, CHASING LIGHTS of the entrance canopy

steps DUKE in EC/U holding a KLEENEX SOAKED IN ETHER TO HIS

NOSE.



                                                      34.





                    DUKE (V/O)

       Ah, 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 --

              (throws away kleenex)

       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.



DUKE and GONZO approach the entrance with elaborate care-

taking one step at a time -- trying to keep ahead of the drug.



                    DUKE (V/O)

       You approach the turnstiles and

       know that when you get there, you

       have to give the man two dollars or

       he won't let you inside... but when

       you get there, everything goes wrong.



THE ETHER KICKS IN:



DUKE and GONZO BOUNCE off the walls, CRASH into OLD LADIES,

GIGGLE HELPLESSLY as they try to pay -- HANDS FLAPPING

CRAZILY, unable to get money out of their pockets.



                    DUKE (V/O)

       Some angry Rotarian shoves you and

       you think: What's happening here?

       What's going on?  Then you hear

       yourself mumbling.



                    DUKE

              (mumbling)

       Dogs fucked the Pope, no fault of

       mine.  Watch out!... Why money?  My

       name is Brinks; I was born... Born?



                    GONZO

       Get sheep over side... women and

       children to armored car... orders

       from Captain Zeep.



The ATTENDANTS indulgently escort them through the TURNSTILES.



                                                      35.





                    DUKE (V/O)

       Ether is the perfect drug for Las

       Vegas.  In this town they love a

       drunk.  Fresh meat.  So they put us

       through the turnstiles and turned

       us loose inside.



INT. BAZOOKO CIRCUS CASINO - NIGHT



Flames shoot up from below the casino.  Above, a HIGH WIRE

ACT with FOUR MUZZLED WOLVERINES, SIX NYMPHET SISTERS FROM

SAN DIEGO, TWO SILVER PAINTED POLACK BROTHERS, and THREE

KOREAN KITTENS.



The WOLVERINE chases a NYMPHET through the air.  TWO POLACKS

swing at it from opposite sides and they are instantly

locked in a death battle.



All plummet to the nets suspended over the GAMBLING TABLES

and SLOT MACHINES.  No one looks up.  The GAMBLERS REMAIN

INTENT ON THE SPINNING ROULETTE WHEEL, THE TURN OF THE CARD,

THE ROLL OF A DICE.



                    DUKE (V/O)

       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.



Something causes DUKE to look down.  A dwarf carrying drinks

on a tray is tugging DUKE's pants leg trying to get him to

move out of the way.



                    DUKE (V/O CONT'D)

       A drug person can learn to cope

       with things like seeing their dead

       grandmother crawling up their leg

       with a knife in her teeth but,

       nobody should be asked to handle

       this trip.



GONZO and DUKE go upstairs walking past funhouse booths.

One of them is manned by an orangutan in costume.  A

FAIRGROUND BARKER grabs DUKE.



                    FAIRGROUND BARKER

       Stand in front of this fantastic

       machine, my friend.  For just 99

       cents your likeness will appear 200

       hundred feet tall on a screen above

       downtown Las Vegas.



On a TV monitor a 200 FOOT HIGH DRUNKARD looms over the Las

Vegas skyline screaming OBSCENITIES.



                                                      36.





                    FAIRGROUND BARKER

       99 cents more for a voice message.

       Say whatever you want, fella.

       They'll hear you, don't worry about

       that.  Remember, you'll be 200 feet

       tall!



                    ANOTHER BARKER

       Step right up!  Shoot the pasties

       off the nipples of this ten-foot

       bull-dyke and win a cotton candy

       goat!



INT. BAZOOKO CIRCUS REVOLVING MERRY-GO-ROUND BAR - NIGHT



DUKE and GONZO sit on the revolving platform.  GONZO

stares -- glassy eyed -- coming apart.



                    GONZO

       I hate to say this, but this place

       is getting to me.  I think I'm

       getting The Fear.



                    DUKE

       Nonsense.  We came here to find the

       American Dream, and now we're right

       in the vortex you want to quit.

       You must realize that we've found

       the Main Nerve.



                    GONZO

       That's what gives me The Fear.



                    DUKE

       Look over there.  Two women fucking

       a Polar Bear.



                    GONZO

       Please, don't tell me those things...

       Not now.

              (signals the waitress

              for two Wild Turkeys)

       This is my last drink.  How much

       money can you lend me?



                    DUKE

       Not much.  Why?



                    GONZO

       I have to go.



                    DUKE

       GO?



                                                      37.





                    GONZO

       Yes.  Leave the country.  Tonight.



                    DUKE

       Calm down.  You'll be straight in a

       few hours.



                    GONZO

       No.  This is serious.  One more

       hour in this town and I'll kill

       somebody!



                    DUKE

       OK.  I'll lend you some money.

       Let's go outside and see how much

       we have left.



                    GONZO

       Can we make it?



                    DUKE

       That depends on how many people we

       fuck with between here and the door.



                    GONZO

       I want to leave fast.



                    DUKE

       OK.  Lets pay this bill and get up

       very slowly.  It's going to be a

       long walk.

              (signals waitress who

              comes over)





                    GONZO

              (suddenly to waitress)

       Do they pay you to screw that bear?



                    WAITRESS

       What?



                    DUKE

       He's just kidding.

              (to GONZO)

       Come on, Doc -- lets go downstairs

       and gamble.



GONZO trembles with fear -- walks to the edge of the

turntable.



                    GONZO

       When does this thing stop?



                                                      38.





                    DUKE

       It won't stop.  It's not ever going

       to stop.



DUKE carefully steps off the turntable.



GONZO, eyes staring blindly ahead, squiting in fear and

confusion, rooted to the spot, is carried away.



                    DUKE

       Don't move you'll come around.



DUKE reaches out to grab GONZO, who jumps back -- keeps

going around.



The BARTENDER narrows his eyes at them.



DUKE steps onto the merry-go-round -- hurries round the

bar -- approaching GONZO from the blind side and shoves

GONZO from behind.  GONZO goes down with a hellish scream.

DUKE approaches him with his hands in the air.  Smiling.



                    DUKE

       You fell.  Let's go.



GONZO refuses to move and stands tense, fists clenched,

looking for somebody to hit...an old woman perhaps?



                    DUKE (CONT'D)

       OK.  You stay here and go to jail.

       I'm leaving.



DUKE walks fast towards the stairs.  GONZO catches up with

him.



                    GONZO

       Did you see that?  Some sonofabitch

       kicked me in the back.



                    DUKE

       Probably the bartender.  He wanted

       to stomp you for what you said to

       the waitress.



                    GONZO

       Good God!  Let's get out of here!

       Where's the elevator?



                    DUKE

              (turning him in the

              opposite direction)

       Don't go near that elevator.

       That's just what they want us to

       do... trap us in a steel box and

       take us down to the basement.



                                                      39.





EXT. BAZOOKO CIRCUS CASINO - NIGHT



DUKE and GONZO stumble out of the entrance.



                    DUKE

       Don't run.  They'd like any excuse

       to shoot us.



                    GONZO

              (in an extended fall)

       You drive!  I think there's

       something wrong with me.



INT. MINT HOTEL CORRIDOR OUTSIDE THEIR SUITE - NIGHT



DUKE AND GONZO RUN MADLY DOWN THE CORRIDOR... DUKE TAKING

CARE NOT TO STEP ON THE PATTERNED PART OF THE CARPET.



GONZO STRUGGLES with the key in the lock.



                    GONZO

       Those bastards have changed the

       lock on us.  They probably searched

       the room.  Jesus, we're finished!



The door SUDDENLY SWINGS OPEN.  DUKE AND GONZO fall inside.



INT. MINT HOTEL SUITE - NIGHT



                    GONZO

       Bolt everything!  Use all chains!



DUKE locks the door.  The suite is crowded with ROOM SERVICE

GOODIES.  DUKE turns to see GONZO staring at two hotel room

keys.  EVERYTHING STOPS.



                    GONZO

       Where did this one come from?



DUKE snatches a key.



                    DUKE

       That's Lacerda's room.



GONZO smiles a slow smile...



                    GONZO

       Yeah... I thought we might need it...



                    DUKE

       What for?



GONZO snatches the key back.



                                                      40.





                    GONZO

       Let's go up there and blast him out

       of bed with the fire hose.



                    DUKE

       No, we should leave the poor

       bastard alone.  I get the feeling

       that he's avoiding us for some

       reason.



                    GONZO

       Don't kid yourself.  That Portuguese

       son of a bitch is dangerous.  He's

       watching us like a hawk.



                    DUKE

       He told me he was turning in early...



GONZO utters an anguished cry -- slaps the wall with both

hands.



                    GONZO

       That dirty bastard!  I knew it!

       He's got hold of my woman!



                    DUKE

              (laughing)

       That little blonde groupie with the

       film crew?  You think he sodomized

       her?



                    GONZO

       That's right, laugh about it!  You

       goddamn honkies are all the same!



GONZO SLASHES A GRAPEFRUIT with a HUGE RAZOR SHARP HUNTING

KNIFE.  DUKE blanches.



                    DUKE

       Where'd you get that knife?



GONZO SLICES THE GRAPEFRUIT -- MANIACAL.



                    GONZO

       Room service sent it up.  I wanted

       something to cut the limes.



GONZO SLICES THE GRAPEFRUIT -- INTO EIGHTHS!



                    DUKE

       What limes?



GONZO SLICES -- SIXTEENTHS!



                                                      41.





                    GONZO

       They didn't have any.  They don't

       grow in the desert.



SLICE!  SLICE!  SLICE!



                    GONZO

       That dirty toad bastard!  I knew I

       should have taken him out when I

       had the chance.  Now he has her.



SLICE!  SLICE!  SLICE!  GONZO SLASHES INSANELY!



DUKE watches -- straight-faced.



                    DUKE (V/O)

       I remember the girl.  We'd had a

       problem with her in the elevator a

       few hours earlier: my attention had

       made a fool of himself.



INT. ELEVATOR - DAY (FLASHBACK)



An elevator door opens to reveal the SMILING FACES OF

LACERDA, THE BLONDE TV REPORTER AND HER CREW.



DUKE and GONZO stagger in.



LACERDA drops his smile.  He's standing beside the BLONDE TV

REPORTER.  A trembling GONZO moonily turns his eyes onto her.



                    BLONDE TV REPORTER

              (to Gonzo)

       You must be a rider.  What class

       are you in?



                    GONZO

       Class?  What the fuck do you mean?



                    BLONDE TV REPORTER

       What do you ride?  We're filming

       the race for a TV series -- maybe

       we can use you.



                    GONZO

       Use me?



                    DUKE (V/O)

       Mother of God, I thought.  Here it

       comes.



GONZO is TREMBLING BADLY.  There's a moment of uncomfortable

silence.



                                                      42.





                    GONZO

              (suddenly shouting)

       I ride the BIG ONES!  The really

       BIG fuckers!



GONZO shows his teeth to LACERDA.  DUKE laughs trying to

defuse the scene.



                    DUKE

       The Vincent Black Shadow.  We're

       with the Factory Team.



                    TV CAMERAMAN

       Bullshit.



GONZO stills -- becomes dangerous -- zeros in on the TV

CAMERAMAN -- groin to groin...



                    GONZO

       Wait a minute, pardon me lady, but

       I think there's some kind of

       ignorant chicken-sucker in this car

       who needs his face cut open.  You

       cheap honky faggots!  Which one of

       you wants to get cut?!



DEAD SILENCE.



Ding!  The elevator door opens, but nobody moves.  The door

closes.



Next floor.  Ding!  The door opens again.  A middle-aged

couple start to get in.  Change their minds.  The door closes.



INT. CORRIDOR - DAY



DUKE and GONZO run down the corridor.  GONZO LAUGHS WILDLY.



                    GONZO

       Spooked!  They were spooked!  Like

       rats in a death cage!



INT. MINT HOTEL SUITE - DAY



DUKE and GONZO CRASH into their hotel suite -- BOLT THE DOOR.

GONZO stops laughing.



                    GONZO

       Goddamn.  It's serious now.  That

       girl understood.  She fell in love

       with me.



END FLASHBACK.



                                                      43.





INT. MINT HOTEL SUITE - NIGHT



SLICE!  SLICE!  SLICE!  GONZO with the BIG HUNTING KNIFE --

sliced grapefruit segments everywhere.



                    GONZO

       Let's go up there and castrate that

       fucker!



GONZO pauses -- A MAD THOUGHT -- turns to DUKE.



                    GONZO

              (squinting suspiciously)

       Have you made a deal with him?  Did

       you put him on to her?



                    DUKE

              (backing slowly

              towards the door)

       Look you better put that blade away

       and get your head straight.  I have

       to put the car in the lot.



                    DUKE (V/O)

       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 eyes.



INT. CASINO/LOBBY MINT HOTEL



The MAGAZINE REPORTER is on the telephone.



                    MAGAZINE REPORTER

       Las Vegas at dawn.  The racers are

       still asleep, the dust is still on

       the desert, fifty thousand dollars

       in prize money, slumbers darkly in

       the office safe at Del Webb's

       fabulous Mint Hotel...



DUKE walks past the REPORTER -- into THE CASINO, THE SAD,

MEAGRE CROWDS AROUND THE CRAP TABLES.  No joy.  DUKE watches.



                    DUKE (V/O)

       Who are these people?  These faces!

       Where do they come from?  They look

       like caricatures of used car

       dealers from Dallas.

                    (MORE)



                                                      44.





                    DUKE (V/O; CONT'D)

       And, sweet Jesus, there are a hell

       of a lot of them at four-thirty on

       a Monday morning.  Still humping

       the American dream, that vision of

       the big winner somehow emerging

       from the last minute predawn chaos

       of a stale Vegas casino.



DUKE stops at the Money Wheel, puts down a two dollar bill

on a number, the wheel turns, he loses.



                    DUKE

       You bastards!



                    DUKE (V/O)

       No.  Calm down.  Learn to ENJOY

       losing.



INT. MINT HOTEL SUITE - NIGHT



DUKE walks back into the room.  We hear the LOUD STRAINS OF

THREE DOG NIGHT'S "JOY TO THE WORLD."



He walks to the bathroom and opens the door.



INT. MINT HOTEL SUITE BATHROOM - NIGHT



Submerged in green water, GONZO WALLOWS in the steaming tub.

Soap labels and grapefruit rinds float on the surface.  A

large empty pack of Neutrogena soap lies on the floor.  The

shower is on -- the tub overflowing.  THE TAPE RECORDER

PLAYS, from where it's plugged into the razor socket over

the sink.



DUKE turns off the shower -- notices a HUGE HUNK OF CHEWED

UP WHITE BLOTTER.



                    DUKE

       You ate ALL THIS ACID?



No answer.



                    DUKE

              (turning down the volume)

       You evil son of a bitch.  You

       better hope there's some Thorazine

       in that bag, because if there's

       not, you're in bad trouble.



                    GONZO

       Music!  Turn it up.  Put that tape

       on.



                                                      45.





                    DUKE

       What tape?



                    GONZO

       Jefferson Airplane. "White Rabbit."

       I want a rising sound.



                    DUKE

       You're doomed.  I'm leaving here in

       two hours and then they're going to

       come up here and beat the mortal

       shit out of you with big saps.

       Right there in that tub.



                    GONZO

       I dig my own graves.  Green water

       and the White Rabbit.  Put it on.



                    DUKE

       OK.  But do me one last favor, will

       you.  Can you give me two hours?

       That's all I ask -- just two hours

       to sleep before tomorrow.  I

       suspect it's going to be a very

       difficult day.



He switches on the tape. "WHITE RABBIT" begins to build.



                    GONZO

              (coolly)

       Of course, I'm your attorney, I'll

       give you all the time you need, at

       my normal rates: $45 an hour -- but

       you'll be wanting a cushion, so,

       why don't you just lay one of those

       $100 bills down there beside the

       radio, and fuck off?



                    DUKE

       How about a check?



                    GONZO

       Whatever's right.



DUKE moves the radio as far from the tub as he can and

leaves, closing the door behind him.



INT. MINT HOTEL SUITE - NIGHT



DUKE goes across to the sofa and crashes -- exhausted.

Suddenly a great ripping and crashing noise in the bathroom.



                    GONZO (V/O)

       Help!  You bastard!  I need help!



                                                      46.





DUKE JUMPS up -- crosses to the bathroom door, muttering.



                    DUKE

       Shit, he's killing himself!



INT. BATHROOM - NIGHT



DUKE RUSHES IN.  GONZO flails -- trying to reach the radio

with the shower curtain pole which he has ripped from its

mounts.



                    GONZO

              (snarling)

       I want that fucking radio!



DUKE GRABS THE RADIO.



                    DUKE

       Don't touch it!  Get back in that

       tub!



                    GONZO

       Back the tape up.  I need it again!

       Let it roll!  Just as high as the

       fucker can go!  And when it comes

       to that fantastic note where the

       rabbit bites its own head off, I

       want you to THROW THAT FUCKING

       RADIO INTO THE TUB WITH ME!



DUKE stares down at GONZO.



                    DUKE

       Not me.  It would blast you through

       the wall -- stone dead in ten

       seconds and they'd make me explain

       it!



                    GONZO

       BULLSHIT!  Don't make me use this.



HIS ARM LASHES OUT OF THE WATER, HOLDING THE KNIFE.



                    DUKE

       Jesus.



                    GONZO

       Do it!  I want to get HIGHER!



DUKE considers this.  He's had enough.



                                                      47.





                    DUKE

       Okay.  You're right.  This is

       probably the only solution.

              (holds the PLUGGED IN

              TAPE/RADIO over the tub)

       Let me make sure I have it all

       lined up.  You want me to throw

       this thing into the tub when "WHITE

       RABBIT" peaks.  Is that it?



GONZO falls back into the water, smiling gratefully.



                    GONZO

       Fuck yes.  I was beginning to think

       I was going to have to go out and

       get one of the goddamn maids to do

       it.



                    DUKE

       Are you ready?



He switches "WHITE RABBIT" back on.  GONZO HOWLS AND MOANS

AND THRASHES TO THE MUSIC, straining to get over the top.



Meanwhile, DUKE picks up a grapefruit from the sink -- a

good two-pounder, he gets a grip on it... and when "WHITE

RABBIT" peaks... HE HURLS IT INTO THE TUB LIKE A CANNONBALL.



GONZO SCREAMS CRAZILY, THRASHING AND CHURNING -- CAUSING A

TIDAL WAVE.



DUKE JERKS THE RADIO CABLE OUT OF THE SOCKET -- SLAMS OUT OF

THE BATHROOM.



INT. MINT HOTEL SUITE - NIGHT



DUKE slumps onto the sofa.



SILENCE.



GONZO RIPS OPEN THE BATHROOM DOOR, his eyes unfocused.  HE

WAVES THE RAZOR SHARP BLADE out in front of him -- LUNGES at

DUKE.  DUKE WHIPS OUT A CAN OF MACE.



                    DUKE

       MACE!  YOU WANT THIS?



GONZO stops -- hisses.



                    GONZO

       You bastard!  You'd do that,

       wouldn't you?



                                                      48.





                    DUKE

              (laughs)

       Why worry?  You'll like it.  Nothing

       in the world like a Mace high.

       Forty-five minutes on your knees

       with the dry heaves...



                    GONZO

       You cheap honky sonofabitch...



                    DUKE

       Why not?  Hell, just a minute ago,

       you were asking me to kill you!

       And now you want to kill me!  What

       I should do, goddamnit, is call the

       police!



                    GONZO

       The cops?



                    DUKE

       There's no choice.  I wouldn't dare

       go to sleep with you wandering

       around with a head full of acid and

       wanting to slice me up with that

       goddamn knife!



                    GONZO

              (mumbles)

       Who said anything about slicing you

       up?  I just wanted to carve a

       little Z on your forehead.  Nothing

       serious.



GONZO shrugs and reaches for a cigarette on top of the TV set.



                    DUKE

              (menaces him with the MACE)

       Get back in that tub.  Eat some

       reds and try to calm down.  Smoke

       some grass, shoot some smack --

       shit, do whatever you have to do,

       but let me get some rest.



GONZO turns toward the bathroom -- suddenly sad.



                    GONZO

       Hell, yes.  You really need some

       sleep.  You have to work.  Goddamn.

       What a bummer.  Try to rest.  Don't

       let me keep you up.



                                                      49.





GONZO shuffles back into the bathroom.  DUKE wedges a chair

up against the bathroom doorknob and puts the mace can next

to the clock.



DUKE turns on the TV.  WHITE NOISE FILLS THE ROOM.  He

collapses onto the sofa and lights up his lightbulb as pipe.



                    DUKE (V/O)

       Ignore the nightmare in the bathroom.

       Just another ugly refugee from the

       Love Generation.



The WHITE NOISE snow storm on the TV is reflected in his

face.  The camera pulls back revealing THE ENTIRE WALL

BEHIND HIM TO BE SWIRLING WITH THE FIZZING SNOWSTORM PATTERN.



                    DUKE (V/O)

       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.



The pattern on the wall changes to A 60'S VISCOUS OIL

LIGHTSHOW PATTERN.  With DUKE still sitting in the

foreground, the projected image widens to reveal the interior

of A HAIGHT ASHBURY DANCE HALL full of DANCING PROTO-HIPPIES.



INT. MATRIX CLUB - NIGHT



A slightly YOUNGER DUKE moves through the throng.  All the

action is in a DREAMLIKE SLOW-MOTION.



                    DUKE (V/O)

       I recall one night in the Matrix.

       There I was -- a victim of the Drug

       Explosion.  A natural street freak,

       just eating whatever came by.



A ROAD-PERSON with a big pack on his back is shouting.  The

sound of his voice, like his movements, is in slow-motion.



                    ROAD-PERSON

       Anybody want some L...S...D...?  I

       got all the makin's right here.

       All I need is a place to cook.



The camera pushes right into the ROAD-PERSON's mouth.



INT. MATRIX MEN'S ROOM - NIGHT



Still in slow motion, the YOUNGER DUKE is trying to eat a

HUGE SPANSULE OF ACID.  With difficulty.



                                                      50.





                    DUKE (V/O)

       I decided to eat only half at first.

       Good thinking.  But I spilled the

       rest on the sleeve of my red

       Pendleton shirt.



DUKE stares at his sleeve, uncertain what to do.  C/U of the

door to the men's room as a MUSICIAN enters speaking in

slow-motion.



                    MUSICIAN

       What's the trouble?



                    DUKE

              (also in slow-motion)

       Well, all this white stuff on my

       sleeve is LSD.



The MUSICIAN approaches and looks down at DUKE'S arm.  A

long pause.



Cut back to tight shot of door as it opens and a very clean-

cut, PREPPY, STOCKBROKER TYPE enters.  He freezes in horror.

We cut to his POV.  DUKE is standing in the middle of the

men's room with the MUSICIAN hunkered down at his side...

sucking on his sleeve.  A very gross tableau.  The

STOCKBROKER slowly eases out of the room.



                    DUKE (V/O)

       With a bit of luck his life was

       ruined -- forever thinking that

       just behind some narrow door in all

       his favorite bars, men in red

       Pendleton shirts are getting

       incredible kicks from things he'll

       never know.



INT. A BAR - YEARS LATER - NIGHT



The STOCKBROKER LOOKING CONSIDERABLY OLDER sits looking

lost, confused, a nervous wreck.  The image flares out in a

TV white noise snowstorm.



INT. MINT HOTEL SUITE - NIGHT



DUKE sits staring at the TV.



                                                      51.





                    DUKE (V/O)

       Strange memories on this nervous

       night in Las Vegas.

              (he gets up, pours

              himself a drink)

       Has it been five years?  Six?  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.



DUKE throws open the curtains.  Light streams in.



EXT. 1965 STOCK FOOTAGE



We are in SAN FRANCISCO.  IMAGES OF THE TIME FLOOD IN.



                    DUKE (V/O)

       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 a high

       and beautiful wave...



DUKE'S FACE IS SUFFUSED WITH A SADNESS AND SERENITY WE HAVE

NEVER SEEN BEFORE.



                    DUKE (V/O)

       So now, less than five years later,

       you can go up on a steep hill in

       Las 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.



                                                      52.





The memories dissolve into the night skyline of Vegas.

Suddenly towering over the casinos is a 200 foot high Nazi

shouting "WOODSTOCK 蹷ER ALLES!"



INT. MINT HOTEL SUITE - NIGHT



DUKE closes the curtain.  The room is in darkness again.



INT. MINT HOTEL SUITE - DAWN



A harsh door buzzer.  DUKE jerks awake.  Alone.  Looking

like shit.  Around him is the wreckage of their stay.



                    DUKE (V/O)

       The decision to flee came suddenly.

       Or maybe not.



DUKE opens the door to a BELL BOY with a trolley load of

fruit, drinks and flowers... and a smile.



                    BELL BOY

       Room service!



The BELL BOY wheels the trolley across the room -- already

stacked with EVEN MORE BOXES OF GOODIES.



                    DUKE (V/O)

       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.



DUKE slams the door -- starts FRANTICALLY PACKING.



                    DUKE (V/O)

       Our room service tabs had been

       running somewhere between $29 and

       $36 per hour, for forty-eight

       consecutive hours.  Incredible.

       How could it happen?



DUKE sees the DISCARDED WRAPPINGS OF EXPENSIVE, HAND TOOLED

LUGGAGE.  A sudden thought.  He rushes to GONZO's room --

empty.  His plastic briefcase remains on the bed...



                    DUKE (V/O)

       But by the time I asked this

       question, there was no one around

       to answer.



DUKE opens the briefcase -- finds the .357 MAGNUM inside.



                                                      53.





                    DUKE (V/O)

       My attorney was gone.  He must have

       sensed trouble.



                                       QUICK CUT TO:



EXT. LAS VEGAS AIRPORT - DAY



GONZO WAVES GOODBYE as he boards an airplane with a set of

brand-new fine cowhide luggage.



                    DUKE (V/O)

       Panic.



INT. CORRIDOR OUTSIDE HOTEL SUITE - DAY



DUKE emerges with his bag and Gonzo's plastic briefcase --

leaves the DO NOT DISTURB sign on the door -- checks both

ways, then hurries away down the corridor.



                    DUKE (V/O)

       It crept up my spine like first

       rising vibes of an acid frenzy.

       All these horrible realities began

       to dawn on me.



INT. MINT HOTEL ELEVATOR - DAY



An anxiety ridden DUKE watches the floor numbers as the

elevator descends.  He searches his pockets...



                    DUKE (V/O)

       Here I was, alone in Las Vegas,

       with this goddamned incredibly

       expensive car, 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.



DUKE finds a last crumpled $5 bill.



The door opens.  A SECURITY GUARD enters with an OLD LADY IN

HANDCUFFS.



DUKE hides the bill -- crams back into the corner.  Doors

close.



                    DUKE (V/O)

       I didn't even know who had won the

       race.  Maybe nobody.



                                                      54.





INT. MINT HOTEL LOBBY - DAY



DUKE hurries out of the elevator -- eyes on a hovering

MANAGER.  Past the curious look of the reception CLERK.



                    DUKE

              (muttering to himself)

       How would Horatio Alger have

       handled this situation?



EXT. MINT HOTEL - DAY



Motoring, DUKE gives his $5 bill to the HOTEL FRONT DOORMAN

with a smile.  The DOORMAN blows a frantic whistle and waves

at the CAR BOY.



                    DUKE (V/O)

       Stay calm.  Stay calm.  I'm a

       relatively respectable citizen -- a

       multiple felon, perhaps, but

       certainly not dangerous.



The CAR BOY pulls up with a screech.  DUKE jumps in.  The

back seat is stacked with bars of Neutrogena, piles of Mint

400 t-shirts, boxes of grapefruit.



                    DUKE (V/O CONT'D)

       Luckily, I had taken the soap and

       grapefruit and other luggage out to

       the car a few hours earlier.  Now

       it was only a matter of slipping

       the noose...



DUKE shifts into drive.  Deliverance!



                    CLERK'S VOICE

       MR. DUKE!



DUKE freezes.



                    CLERK'S VOICE

       Mr. Duke!  We've been looking for

       you!



                    DUKE (V/O)

       The game was up!  They had me.



                    DUKE

              (to himself)

       Well, why not?  Many fine books

       have been written in prison.



                                                      55.





Resigned, DUKE turns off the ignition.  A young CLERK

arrives breathlessly with a smile and a YELLOW LETTER IN HIS

HAND.



                    CLERK

       Sir?

              (thrusts out a TELEGRAM)

       This telegram came for you.

       Actually, it isn't for you.  It's

       for somebody named Thompson, but it

       says 'care of Raoul Duke'.  does

       that make sense?



                    DUKE

              (barely able to speak)

       Yes... It makes sense.



DUKE stuffs the telegram into his top pocket.



The CLERK peers into the car -- sees part of the enormous

stash inside.



                    CLERK

       I checked the register for this man

       Thompson.  We don't show him but I

       figured he might be part of your

       team.



                    DUKE

       He is.  Don't worry, I'll get it to

       him.



He fires up the engine -- eases the RED SHARK into low gear.



SECURITY GUARDS are looking across -- sharing a quiet word

or two.



                    CLERK

       What confused us was Dr. Gonzo's

       signature on the telegram from Los

       Angeles.  When we knew he was right

       here in the hotel.



                    DUKE

       You did the right thing.  Never try

       to understand a press message.

       About half the time we use codes --

       especially with Dr. Gonzo.



                    CLERK

       Tell me.  When will the doctor be

       awake?



                                                      56.





                    DUKE

              (tenses)

       Awake?  What do you mean?



DUKE's eyes are on the SECURITY GUARDS -- moving closer.



                    CLERK

              (uncomfortably)

       Well... the manager, Mr. Heem,

       would like to meet him.  Nothing

       unusual.  Mr. Heem likes to meet

       all our large accounts... put them

       on a personal basis... just a chat

       and a handshake, you understand.



                    DUKE

       Of course.  But if I were you, I'd

       leave the Doctor alone until after

       he's eaten breakfast.  He's a very

       crude man.



DUKE edges the car forward, but is stopped by the CLERK.



                    CLERK

       But he will be available?  Perhaps

       later this morning?



                    DUKE

       Look.  That telegram was all

       scrambled.  It was actually from

       Thompson, not to him.  Western

       Union must have gotten the names

       reversed.  I have to get going.  I

       have to get out to the track.



                    CLERK

       There's no hurry!  The race is over!



                    DUKE

              (taking off)

       Not for me.



He waves the CLERK off the car -- roars away.



                    CLERK

       Let's have lunch!



                    DUKE

       Righto!



EXT. ROAD OUT OF VEGAS - DAY



DUKE drives the RED SHARK out of Vegas.



                                                      57.





A "YOU ARE LEAVING LAS VEGAS" sign flashes past.



Bob Dylan plays: "Memphis Blues Again -- "Aaww, Mama, can

this really by the end...?"



A sign: LOS ANGELES -- 400 miles.



                    DUKE (V/O)

       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.  Flee!



DUKE drives fast.



                    DUKE

       Do me one last favor Lord: just

       give me five more high-speed hours

       before you bring the hammer down;

       just let me get rid of this goddamn

       car and off of this horrible desert.



A sign flashes "YOU CAN RUN BUT YOU CAN'T HIDE."



A patrol car pulls out behind him, lights flashing.



                    DUKE (CONT'D)

       You evil bastard!  This is your

       work!  You'd better take care of

       me, Lord... because if you don't

       you're going to have me on your

       hands.



The patrol car screams after the RED SHARK.



                    DUKE (V/O)

       Few people understand the psychology

       of dealing with a Highway Traffic

       Cop.  Your normal speeder will

       panic and immediately pull over to

       the side.  This is wrong.



DUKE floors the gas pedal.



                    DUKE (V/O)

       It arouses contempt in the cop heart.



THE SPEEDOMETER CLIMBS STEADILY.



                                                      58.





                    DUKE (V/O)

       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.



DUKE signals right.  The RED SHARK screams at 120 mph.



                    DUKE (V/O)

       This is to let him know you're

       looking for a proper place to pull

       off and talk.



AN EXIT OFF RAMP: MAX SPEED 25.



DUKE hits the brakes.  The COP brakes.



                    DUKE (V/O)

       It will take him a moment to

       realize that he is about to make

       180 degree turn at speed... but you

       will be ready for it, braced for

       the G's and the fast heel toe work.



The patrol car spins and fishtails crazily out of control.



EXT. SCENIC PICNIC AREA - DAY



The patrol car comes skidding around the corner.  DUKE

stands beside the RED SHARK, completely relaxed and smiling.



The HIGHWAY PATROLMAN gets out of the car, screaming.



                    HIGHWAY PATROLMAN

       Just what the FUCK did you think

       you were doing?!



DUKE smiles.



                    HIGHWAY PATROLMAN

       May I see your license.



                    DUKE

       Of course, officer.



DUKE reaches for it.  And BOTH MEN look down at a beer

can -- which DUKE had, somehow, forgotten was in his hand.



                    DUKE (V/O)

       I knew I was fucked.



The COP relaxes -- actually smiles... He reaches out for

DUKE's wallet, then holds out his other hand for the beer.



                                                      59.





                    HIGHWAY PATROLMAN

       Could I have that, please?



                    DUKE

       Why not?  It was getting warm anyway.



The HIGHWAY PATROLMAN takes it, pours out the beer --

glances in the back seat of the RED SHARK.  Amongst the bars

of soap... A case of warm beer.  DUKE smiles back at him.



                    HIGHWAY PATROLMAN

       You realize...



                    DUKE

       Yeah.  I know.  I'm guilty.  I

       understand that.  I knew it was a

       crime but I did it anyway.  Shit,

       why argue?  I'm a fucking criminal.



                    HIGHWAY PATROLMAN

       That's a strange attitude.



He looks at DUKE thoughtfully.



                    HIGHWAY PATROLMAN

       You know -- I get the feeling you

       could use a nap.  There's a rest

       area up ahead.  Why don't you pull

       over and sleep a few hours?



                    DUKE

       A nap won't help.  I've been awake

       for too long -- three or four

       nights.  I can't even remember.  If

       I go to sleep now, I'm dead for

       twenty hours.



The HIGHWAY PATROLMAN smiles.



                    HIGHWAY PATROLMAN

       Okay.  Here's how it is.  What goes

       into my book, as of noon, is that I

       apprehended you... for driving too

       fast, and advised you to proceed no

       further than the next rest area...

       your stated destination, right?

       Where you plan to take a long nap.

       Do I make myself clear?



                    DUKE

       How far is Baker?  I was hoping to

       stop there for lunch.



                                                      60.





                    HIGHWAY PATROLMAN

       Not my jurisdiction.  The city

       limits are two point two miles

       beyond the rest area.  Can you make

       it that far?



                    DUKE

       I'll try.  I've been wanting to go

       to Baker for a long time.  I've

       heard a lot about it.



The PATROLMAN holds the door for DUKE who gets in.



                    HIGHWAY PATROLMAN

       Excellent seafood.  With a mind

       like yours, you'll probably want to

       try the land-crab.  Try the Majestic

       Diner.



The PATROLMAN slams the door shut.



EXT. DESERT ROAD - DAY



DUKE drives away -- teeth gritted.



                    DUKE (V/O)

       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 L.A.



DUKE drives past the rest area to an intersection where he

signals to turn right into Baker.  As he approaches the turn

he sees the HITCHHIKER!  As DUKE slows to make the turn

their eyes meet.  DUKE is about to wave -- but the HITCHHIKER

drops his thumb.



                    DUKE

       Great Jesus, it's him.



DUKE, spooked, SPINS THE RED SHARK round -- ROARS BACK THE

WAY HE CAME.



EXT. BAKER TRUCK STOP - DAY



DUKE on the public phone booth -- screaming.



                    DUKE

       They've nailed me!  I'm trapped in

       some stinking desert crossroads

       called Baker.  I don't have much

       time.  The fuckers are closing in.

       They'll hunt me down like a beast!



                                                      61.





INT. GONZO'S OFFICE - DAY



GONZO sits surrounded by legal papers and law books.  Mexican

Day of the Dead masks hang from the walls -- flame-red demons.



                    GONZO

       Who?  You sound a little paranoid.



EXT. BAKER TRUCK STOP - DAY



DUKE screams -- sweat pouring.



                    DUKE

       You bastard!  I need a lawyer

       immediately!



INT. GONZO'S OFFICE - DAY



                    GONZO

       What are you doing in Baker?

       Didn't you get my telegram?



EXT. BAKER TRUCK STOP - DAY



                    DUKE

       What?  Fuck telegrams.  I'm in

       trouble.  You worthless bastard.

       I'll cripple your ass for this!

       All that shit in the car is yours!

       You understand that?  When I finish

       testifying out here you'll be

       disbarred!



INT. GONZO'S OFFICE - DAY



                    GONZO

       You're supposed to be in Vegas.  We

       have a suite at the Flamingo.  I

       was just about to leave for the

       airport.



INT. BAKER TRUCK STOP - DAY



DUKE pulls out the telegram from his top pocket.



                    GONZO'S VOICE

       You brainless scumbag!  You're

       supposed to be covering the National

       District Attorney's conference!  I

       made all the reservations... rented

       a white Cadillac convertible... the

       whole thing is arranged!  What the

       hell are you doing out there in the

       middle of the fucking desert?



                                                      62.





DUKE stares at the telegram.



                    DUKE

       Never mind.  It's all a big joke.

       I'm actually sitting beside the

       pool at the Flamingo.  I'm talking

       from a portable phone.  Some dwarf

       brought it out from the casino.  I

       have total credit!  Can you grasp

       that?

              (shouts)

       Don't come anywhere near this place!

       Foreigners aren't welcome here!



DUKE, breathing heavily, hangs up phone.



EXT. DESERT - DAY



C/U of .357 Magnum cylinder being spun.



                    DUKE (V/O)

       Well.  This is how the world works.



C/U An IGUANA basks in the sun.



                    DUKE (V/O)

       All energy flows according to the

       whims of the Great Magnet.



C/U Barrel of the gun.  It fires.  An explosion of desert

dirt.



                    DUKE (V/O)

       What a fool I was to defy Him.



The IGUANA sits unfazed.



                    DUKE (V/O)

       Never cross the Great Magnet.  I

       understood this now...

              (another blast from

              the gun)

       ... and with understanding came a

       sense of almost terminal relief.



DUKE stands alone in the vast desert firing at nothing, the

thuds of the explosions echo away.



EXT. ROAD INTO VEGAS - DAY



The RED SHARK driving back towards Las Vegas.



                                                      63.





                    DUKE (V/O)

       I had to get rid of The Shark.  Too

       many people might recognize it...

       ...especially the Vegas Police.

              (tight C/U of DUKE)

       Luckily, my credit card was still

       technically valid.



PULL BACK TO REVEAL:



DUKE, now driving a white Cadillac Coupe de Ville -- THE

WHITE WHALE.



DUKE pushes buttons -- lowers the top.



                    DUKE (V/O)

       This was a superior machine -- ten

       grand worth of gimmicks and high

       price special effects.  The rear

       windows leapt up with a touch like

       frogs in a dynamited pond.  The

       dashboard was full of esoteric

       lights and dials and meters that I

       would never understand.



EXT. FLAMINGO HOTEL - AFTERNOON



A GIANT SIGN: THE FLAMINGO WELCOMES THE NATIONAL DA'S

CONFERENCE ON NARCOTICS & DANGEROUS DRUGS.



                    DUKE (V/O)

       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 Las Vegas hotel and

       then just wheeling across town and

       checking into another.



The WHITE WHALE turns into a VIP parking slot, immediately

attended by impressed MINIONS.



                    DUKE (V/O)

       Me and a thousand ranking cops from

       all over America.  Why not?  Move

       confidently into their midst.



INT. FLAMINGO HOTEL LOBBY - AFTERNOON



DUKE enters -- old Levis, grubby sneakers, 10 peso Acapulco

shirt coming apart at the seams, 3 day growth, eyes hidden

behind mirror shades.  He heads for the check-in line.



                                                      64.





                    DUKE (V/O)

       My arrival was badly timed.



THE PLACE IS FULL OF COPS.  200 of them, on vacation, all

dressed in cut price Vegas casuals: plaid Bermuda shorts,

Arnie Palmer golf shirts, and rubberized beach sandals.



Ahead of DUKE -- A POLICE CHIEF argues with the DESK CLERK.

The POLICE CHIEF'S AGNEW STYLE WIFE stands to the side,

weeping.  The POLICE CHIEF'S FRIENDS stand uneasily around.



                    POLICE CHIEF

       What do you mean I'm too late to

       register?  I'm a police chief.

       From Michigan.  Look, fella, I told

       you.

              (waves a POSTCARD)

       I have a postcard here that says I

       have reservations in this hotel.



                    CLERK

              (prissily)

       I'm sorry, sir.  You're on the

       "late list." Your reservations were

       transferred to the... ah...

       Moonlight Motel, which is out on

       Paradise Boulevard...



                    POLICE CHIEF

       I've already paid for my goddamn

       room!



                    CLERK

       It's actually a very fine place of

       lodging and only sixteen blocks

       from here, with its own pool and...



                    POLICE CHIEF

       You dirty little faggot!  Call the

       manager!  I'm tired of listening to

       this dogshit!



FRIENDS restrain the POLICE CHIEF.



                    CLERK

              (solicitously)

       I'm so sorry, sir.  May I call you

       a cab?



The POLICE CHIEF's screamed insults fade away...



                    DUKE (V/O)

       Of course, I could hear what the

       Clerk was really saying...



                                                      65.





                    CLERK

              (IN DUKE'S IMAGINATION)

       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. "Fuck

       you, officer, I'm in charge here,

       and I'm telling you we don't have

       room for you."



DUKE steps to the desk, around the raging POLICE CHIEF.



                    DUKE

       Say.  I hate to interrupt, but I

       wonder if maybe I could just sort

       of slide through and get out of

       your way.  Name's Raoul Duke --

       Raoul Duke.  My attorney made the

       reservation.



DUKE snaps a credit card down onto the counter.  EVERYONE

goes silent.  The POLICE CHIEF GROUP stares at him like he

was some kid of water rat crawling up to the desk.  The

CLERK hits the bell for the BELLBOY.



                    CLERK

       Certainly, Mr. Duke!



                    DUKE

       My bags are out there in that white

       Cadillac convertible.  Can you have

       someone drive it around to the room?



ALL EYES turn to the gleaming WHITE WHALE.



                    DUKE

       Oh, and could I get a quart of Wild

       Turkey, two fifths of Baccardi, and

       a night's worth of ice delivered to

       my room, please?



                    CLERK

       Don't worry about a thing, sir.

       Just enjoy your stay.



                    DUKE

       Well, thank you.



DUKE gives the POLICE CHIEF a polite smile -- crosses to the

elevator -- turns to face the GAWPING COPS -- pops a can of

beer and toasts them.  The doors close.



                                                      66.





INT. HOTEL FLAMINGO - CORRIDOR OUTSIDE SUITE - DAY



DUKE rams the key home -- swings the door open.



                    DUKE

       Ah, home at last!



INT. HOTEL FLAMINGO SUITE - AFTERNOON



DUKE enters.  The door hits something with a thud.



A 16-year-old GIRL with the aura of an angry Pit Bull.



GONZO stands in the bathroom doorway -- stark naked with a

drug-addled grin on his face.



                    DUKE

       You degenerate pig!



                    GONZO

       It can't be helped.  This is Lucy.

              (laughing distractedly)

       You know--like "Lucy In The Sky

       With Diamonds."



LUCY eyes DUKE venomously.



                    GONZO

       Lucy!  Lucy, be cool, goddamnit!

       Remember what happened at the

       airport!  No more of that, okay?



LUCY keeps her eyes on DUKE.  GONZO idles over and puts his

arm round her shoulder.



                    GONZO

       Lucy... this is my client.  This is

       Mr. Duke, the famous journalist.

       He's paying for this suite, Lucy.

       He's on our side.



DUKE flops onto the sofa.



                    GONZO

       Mr. Duke is my friend.  He loves

       artists.



DUKE notices for the first time that the room is full of

artwork.  Maybe 40 or 50 portraits, some in oil, some in

charcoal, all more or less the same size and same face.



                    GONZO

       Lucy paints portraits of Barbra

       Streisand.



                                                      67.





                    LUCY

       I drew these from TV.



                    GONZO

       Fantastic.  She came all the way

       down here from Montana just to give

       these portraits to Barbra.  We're

       going over to the Americana Hotel

       tonight to meet her backstage...



DUKE's voice rises above GONZO.



                    DUKE (V/O)

       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.



                    DUKE

       Well, I guess they brought the car

       round by now.  LET'S GET THE STUFF

       OUT OF THE TRUNK.



DUKE fixes GONZO hard.



                    GONZO

       Absolutely, LET'S GET THE STUFF.

              (to LUCY)

       Now, we'll be right back.  Don't

       answer the phone if it rings.



                    LUCY

              (makes one-fingered

              Jesus freak sign)

       God bless.



INT. FLAMINGO HOTEL - CORRIDOR OUTSIDE SUITE - DAY



DUKE collars GONZO -- serious.



                    DUKE

       WELL?  What are your plans?



                    GONZO

       Plans?



                    DUKE

       Lucy.



                                                      68.





                    GONZO

              (struggling to focus)

       Shit.  I met her on the plane and I

       had all that acid.

              (he shrugs)

       You know, those little blue barrels.

       I gave her a cap before I realized...

       she's a religious freak... Jesus,

       she's never even had a drink.



                    DUKE

       Well... It'll probably work out.

       We can keep her loaded and peddle

       her ass at the drug convention.



GONZO stares uneasily at DUKE.



                    GONZO

       Listen, she's running away from

       home for something like the fifth

       time in six months.  It's terrible.



                    DUKE

       She's perfect for this gig.  These

       cops will go fifty bucks a head to

       beat her into submission and then

       gang fuck her.  We can set her up

       in one of these back street motels,

       hang pictures of Jesus all over the

       room, then turn these pigs loose on

       her... Hell she's strong; she'll

       hold her own.



GONZO's face twitches badly.



                    GONZO

       Jesus Christ.  I knew you were sick

       but I never expected to hear you

       actually say that kind of stuff.



                    DUKE

       It's straight economics.  This girl

       is a god-send.  Shit, she can make

       us a grand a day.



                    GONZO

       NO!  Stop talking like that.



                    DUKE

       I figure she can do about four at a

       time.  Christ, if we keep her full

       of acid that's more like two grand

       a day.  Maybe three.



                                                      69.





                    GONZO

       You filthy bastard.  I should cave

       your fucking head in.



                    DUKE

       In a few hours, she'll probably be

       sane enough to work herself into a

       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 savagely

       penetrated every orifice in her

       body with his throbbing,

       uncircumcised member.



GONZO starts crying.



                    GONZO

       NO!  I felt sorry for the girl, I

       wanted to help her!



                    DUKE

       You'll go straight to the gas

       chamber.  And even if you manage to

       beat that, they'll send you back to

       Nevada for Rape and Consensual

       Sodomy.  She's got to go.



Pause.



                    GONZO

       Shit, it doesn't pay to try to help

       somebody these days.



A silence.



                    DUKE (V/O)

       The only alternative was to take

       her out to the desert and feed her

       remains to the lizards.  But, it

       seemed a bit heavy for the thing we

       were trying to protect: My attorney.



                    GONZO

       We have to cut her loose.  She's

       got two hundred dollars.  And we

       can always call the cops up there

       in Montana, where she lives, and

       turn her in.



                    DUKE

       What?... What kind of goddamn

       monster are you?



                                                      70.





                    GONZO

       It just occurred to me, that she

       has no witnesses.  Anything that

       she says about us is completely

       worthless.



                    DUKE

       Us?



INT. HOTEL FLAMINGO SUITE - SUNSET



DUKE is speaking into the phone in hushed tones.



                    DUKE

       Hotel Americana?  I need a

       reservation.  For my niece.  Listen,

       I need her treated very gently.

       She's an artist, and might seem a

       trifle highstrung...



In the background GONZO helps LUCY and her paintings out the

door.



                    GONZO

       Okay, Lucy, it's time to go meet

       Barbra...



                    DUKE (V/O)

       I felt like a Nazi, but it had to

       be done.



EXT. ON THE STREETS - A CAB STAND - DUSK



The WHITE WHALE pulls up -- DUKE at the wheel.  GONZO helps

LUCY and her paintings from the car.



                    DUKE (V/O)

       Lucy was a potentially fatal

       millstone on both our necks.  There

       was absolutely no choice but to cut

       her adrift and hope her memory was

       fucked.



GONZO unrolls a couple of bills -- pays off a CAB DRIVER --

waves to LUCY in the back with her paintings.  She's starting

to come down...



GONZO gets back in the WHITE WHALE and slaps his hands

together as if washing his hands of the situation.



                    GONZO

       Well that's that.  Take off slowly.

       Don't attract attention.



                                                      71.





They pull out into traffic.



EXT. LAS VEGAS STREETS - DUSK



                    GONZO

       I gave the cabbie an extra ten

       bucks to make sure she gets there

       safe.  Also, I told him I'd be

       there myself in an hour, and if she

       wasn't, I'd come back out here and

       rip his lungs out.



                    DUKE

       That's good.  You can't be subtle

       in this town.



                    GONZO

       As your attorney, I advise you to

       tell me where you put the goddamn

       mescaline.



                    DUKE

       Maybe we should take it easy tonight.



                    GONZO

       Right.  Let's find a good seafood

       restaurant and eat some red salmon.

       I feel a powerful lust for red

       salmon...



The electric WHITE WHALE heads off down the Strip.  The

sun's going down behind the scrub hills, a good Kristofferson

tune croaks on the radio in the warm dusk.



INT. HOTEL FLAMINGO SUITE - BATHROOM - NEXT MORNING



GONZO throws up in the toilet bowl.



In the background, DUKE opens curtains.  Daylight blinds him.



                    DUKE

       Come on, we're going to be late.



GONZO looks up at his sick reflection -- wipes his mouth

with a towel.



                    GONZO

       This goddamn mescaline.  Why the

       fuck can't they make it a little

       less pure?  Maybe mix it up with

       Rolaids or something.



                                                      72.





INT. HOTEL BALLROOM - DAY



                    EXECUTIVE DIRECTOR

              (crackling and

              booming over the

              lousy sound system)

       On behalf of the prosecuting

       attorneys of this county, I welcome

       you to the Third National DA's

       Conference on Narcotics and

       Dangerous Drugs.



The EXECUTIVE DIRECTOR -- well groomed, GOP businessman

type -- speaks from the podium.  A banner behind him reads:

NATIONAL DA'S CONVENTION 1971. "If You Don't Know, Come To

Learn... If You Know, Come To Teach."



A BIG MIXED CROWD: TOP LEVEL STRAIGHT COPS, UNDERCOVER NARCS

AND OTHER TWILIGHT TYPES -- beards, mustaches and super-Mod

dress.  Just because you're a cop, doesn't mean you can't be

WITH IT!  However, for every URBAN-HIPSTER there are around

20 REDNECKS.



A dozen big, low-fidelity speakers mounted on steel poles

distort and feed back the EXECUTIVE's voice through the room.



At the back, under a loudspeaker, sits DUKE -- $40 FBI

wingtips, a Pat Boone madras sportcoat, and an official name

tag: RAOUL DUKE, PRIVATE INVESTIGATOR, L.A.



GONZO sits beside him.  His name tag: DR. GONZO.  EXPERT,

CRIMINAL DRUG ANALYSIS.  He's nervous -- close to the edge.



                    GONZO

              (lowers his voice)

       I saw these bastards in Easy Rider,

       but I didn't believe they were real.

       Not like this.  Not hundreds of them!



                    DUKE

       They're actually nice people when

       you get to know them.



                    GONZO

       Man, I know these people in my

       goddamn blood!



                    DUKE

       Don't mention that word around here.

       You'll get them excited.



                    GONZO

       This is a fucking nightmare.



                                                      73.





                    DUKE

       Right.  Sure as hell some dope-

       dealing bomb freak is going to

       recognize you and put the word out

       that you're partying with a thousand

       cops.



                    COP IN BACK

       SSSSHHH!



DR. BLUMQUIST -- a "drug expert" -- takes the stage.



                    DR. BLUMQUIST

       We must come to terms with the Drug

       Culture in the country... country...

       country...



The sound systems echoes.



                    DR. BLUMQUIST (CONT'D)

       The reefer butt is called a "roach,"

       because it resembles a cockroach...

       cockroach... cockroach...



                    GONZO

              (whispers)

       What the fuck are these people

       talking about?  You'd have to be

       crazy on acid to think a joint

       looked like a goddamn cockroach!



                    DUKE (V/O)

       It was clear that we had stumbled

       into a prehistoric gathering.



                    DR. BLUMQUIST

       Now, there are four states of being

       in the cannabis, or marijuana,

       society: Cool, Groovy, Hip, and

       Square.  The square is seldom if

       ever cool.  He is not "with it,"

       that is, he doesn't know "what's

       happening." But if he manages to

       figure it out, he moves up a notch

       to "hip."



DUKE and GONZO listen in disbelief.



                    DR. BLUMQUIST (CONT'D)

       And if he can bring himself to

       approve of what is happening, he

       becomes "groovy." After that, with

       much luck and perseverance, he can

       rise to the rank of "cool." A cool

       guy... cool guy... cool guy...



                                                      74.





                    COP IN BACK

       Dr. Bloomquist, do you think the

       anthropologist, Margaret Mead's

       strange behavior of late might

       possibly be explained by a private

       marijuana addiction?



                    DR. BLUMQUIST

       I really don't know, but at her

       age, if she di