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 did smoke grass, she’d
have one hell of a trip!
Roars of laughter.
GONZO
I know a hell of a lot better ways
to waste my time than listening to
this bullshit.
He stands, knocking the ashtray off his chair arm, and
plunges down the aisle to the door.
COP IN BACK
Down in front!
GONZO
Fuck you! I have to get out! I
don’t belong here!
COP IN BACK
Good riddance!
He stumbles from the room. DUKE turns his attention back to
the stage.
The lights go down. A black & white film — REEFER
MADNESS! — illustrates his now evangelical talk.
FILM NARRATOR
KNOW YOUR DOPE FIEND! YOUR LIFE
MAY DEPEND ON IT! You will not be
able to see his eyes because of
Tea-Shades, but his knuckles will
be white from inner tension…
DUKE turns his attention to a 340 pound TEXAN POLICE CHIEF
who necks with his 290 pound WIFE beside him.
FILM NARRATOR
… and his pants will be crusted
with semen from constantly jacking
off when he can’t find a rape
victim…
75.
DUKE gazes at the TEXAN and his WIFE. — Feigning sickness,
he gets up, hand over mouth.
DUKE
Pardon me, I feel sick.
FILM NARRATOR
He will stagger and babble when
questioned. He will not respect
your badge. The Dope Fiend fears
nothing. He will attack, for no
reason, with every weapon at his
command — including yours…
DUKE heads for the exit.
DUKE
Sorry, sick… Beg pardon! Feeling
sick…
FILM NARRATOR
BEWARE. Any officer apprehending a
suspected marijuana addict should
use all necessary force immediately.
One stitch in time [on him] will
usually save nine on you.
DUKE CRASHES OUT THROUGH THE DOOR.
INT. CASINO BAR – DAY
DUKE sees GONZO at the bar — talking to a SPORTY LOOKING
COP about 40 whose name tag identifies him as a DISTRICT
ATTORNEY FROM GEORGIA.
DA
I’m a whiskey man myself. We don’t
have much trouble from drugs where
I come from…
GONZO
You will. One of these nights
you’ll wake up and find a junkie
tearing your bedroom apart.
DA
Naw!
GONZO
They’ll climb right into your
bedroom and sit on your chest with
big Bowie knives. They might even
sit on your wife’s chest. Put the
blade right down on her throat.
76.
DA
Not down in my parts.
DUKE joins them.
DUKE
(to WAITRESS)
Rum and ice, please.
DA
(looks at DUKE’S NAME TAG)
You’re another one of these
California boys. Your friend
here’s been tellin’ us about dope
fiends.
DUKE
They’re everywhere. Nobody’s safe.
And sure as hell not in the South.
They like warm weather… You’d
never believe it. In L.A. it’s out
of control. First it was drugs,
now it’s witchcraft.
DA
Witchcraft? Shit, you can’t mean it!
The BARTENDER cleans his glasses, one ear straining for the
conversation.
GONZO
Read the newspapers.
DUKE
Man, you don’t know trouble until
you have to face down a bunch of
these addicts gone crazy for human
sacrifice!
DA
Naw! That’s science fiction stuff!
DUKE
Not where we operate.
GONZO
Hell, in Malibu alone, these
goddamn Satan worshippers kill six
or eight people every day. All
they want is the blood. They’ll
take people right off the street if
they have to.
77.
DUKE
Just the other day we had a case
where they grabbed a girl right out
of a McDonald’s hamburger stand.
She was a waitress, about sixteen
years old… with a lot of people
watching, too!
The BARTENDER keeps cleaning the same glass — more and more
furiously.
DA
What happened? What did they do to
her?
GONZO
Do? Jesus Christ, man. They
chopped her goddamn head off right
there in the parking lot! Then
they cut all kinds of holes in her
head and sucked out the blood!
DA
(DA ad-libs a
summation of the crime)
And nobody did anything?
DUKE
What could they do? The guy that
took the head was about six-seven,
and maybe three-hundred pounds. He
was packing two Lugers, and the
others had M-16s.
GONZO
They just ran back out into Death
Valley — you know, where Manson
turned up…
DUKE
Like big lizards.
GONZO
… and every one of them stacked
naked…
DA
Naked!?
DUKE
Naked.
78.
GONZO
Yeh, naked!… except for the
weapons.
DUKE
They were all veterans.
DA
Veterans?!!!?
Agog with the horrors of the story, the BARTENDER polishes
the glass — faster and faster…
GONZO
Yeh. The big guy used to be a
major in the Marines.
DA
A major!
GONZO
We know where he lives, but we
can’t get near the house.
DA
Naw! Not a major.
GONZO
He wanted the pineal gland.
DA
Really?
GONZO
That’s how he got so big. When he
quit the Marines he was just a
little guy.
DUKE
Usually, it’s whole families.
During the night. Most of them
don’t even wake up until they feel
their heads going — and then, of
course, it’s too late.
The glass smashes in the BARTENDER’s hand.
DUKE (CONT’D)
Happens every day.
DUKE turns to a WAITRESS with a warm smile.
79.
DUKE (CONT’D)
Three more rums. Plenty of ice.
Maybe a handful of lime chunks.
WAITRESS
Are you guys with the police
convention upstairs?
DA
We sure are, Miss.
WAITRESS
I thought so. I never heard that
kind of talk around here before.
Jesus Christ! How do you guys
stand that kind of work?
GONZO
(grinning)
We like it. It’s groovy.
The WAITRESS stares — sickened — at GONZO.
DUKE
What’s wrong with you? Hell,
somebody has to do it.
GONZO
Hurry up with those drinks. We’re
thirsty. Only two rums. Make mine
a Bloody Mary.
DA
(whacks his fist on
the bar)
Hell, I really hate to hear this.
Because everything that happens in
California seems to get down our
way, sooner or later. Mostly
Atlanta. But that was back when
the goddamn bastards were peaceful.
All we had to do was to keep ’em
under surveillance. They didn’t
roam around much… But now Jesus,
it seems nobody’s safe.
GONZO
(with a conspiratorial
nod)
You’re going to need to take the
bull by the horns — go to the mat
with this scum.
80.
DA
What do you mean by that?
GONZO
You know what I mean. We’ve done
it before and we can damn well do
it again!
DUKE
Cut their goddamn heads off. Every
one of them. That’s what we’re
doing in California.
DA
(stupefied)
WHAT?
GONZO
Sure. It’s all on the Q.T., but
everybody who matters is with us
all the way down the line.
DUKE
We keep it quiet. It’s not the
kind of thing you’d want to talk
about upstairs. Not with the press
around.
DA
(recovering slightly)
Hell, no. We’d never hear the
goddamn end of it.
DUKE
Dobermans don’t talk.
DA
What?
GONZO
Sometimes it’s easier to just rip
out the backstraps.
DUKE
They’ll fight like hell if you try
to take the head without the dogs.
DA
God almighty!
(muttering in a daze)
I don’t think I should tell my wife
about this. She’d never understand.
You know how women are.
81.
DUKE gives the DA a brotherly slap on the back.
DUKE
Just be thankful your heart is
young and strong.
DUKE and GONZO leave the stunned DA — staring into the
swirling ice in drink.
INT. HOTEL FLAMINGO SUITE – DAY
DUKE and GONZO fall into the suite in fits of laughter.
GONZO feels the nausea rise suddenly — heads for the
bathroom. Immediate sounds of retching.
The phone message light is blinking. DUKE opens a beer,
picks up the phone.
DUKE
What’s the message? My light is
blinking.
CLERK (V/O)
Ah, yes. Mr. Duke? You have one
message: “Call Lucy at the Americana
Hotel, room 1600.”
DUKE
Holy shit!
DUKE slams the phone down. GONZO emerges from the
bathroom — looking like death.
DUKE
Lucy called.
GONZO sags visibly — like an animal taking a bullet.
GONZO
What?
The telephone rings. DUKE answers.
INT. FLAMINGO HOTEL – RECEPTION – DAY
A worried CLERK speaks in to the phone.
CLERK
Mr. Duke? Hello, Mr. Duke, I’m
sorry we were cut off a moment
ago… I thought I should call
again, because I was wondering…
82.
