Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas
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!
