Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas
GONZO GOES VERY VERY STILL AT THIS…
DUKE (V/O) Jesus. I thought, what’s happening?
DUKE picks up the napkin. On it is printed in careful red letters: “BACK DOOR BEAUTY?”
DUKE (V/O CONT’D) The question mark was emphasized.
WAITRESS (screams) Pay your bill and get the hell out! You want me to call the cops?
GONZO Spic pimp?
GONZO’s hand goes inside his shirt. He PULLS OUT THE RAZOR- SHARP HUNTING KNIFE.
GONZO KEEPS HIS EYES ON THE WAITRESS. He walks about six feet down the aisle and lifts the receiver of the pay phone. He SLICES IT OFF, then brings the receiver back to his stool and sits down.
DUKE (V/O) I was stupid with shock — not knowing whether to run or start laughing.
GONZO (casual) How much is the lemon meringue pie?
DUKE (V/O) Her eyes were turgid with fear, but her brain was functioning on some basic motor survival level.
WAITRESS (blurting — on automatic) Thirty-five cents!
GONZO (laughing) I mean the whole pie.
The WAITRESS MOANS. GONZO places a $5 BILL on the counter.
GONZO Let’s say five dollars. Okay? 104.
GONZO walks round the counter TAKING THE PIE OUT OF THE DISPLAY CASE.
DUKE (V/O) The sight of the blade had triggered bad memories. The glazed look in her eyes said her throat had been cut. She was still in the grip of paralysis when we left.
DUKE IS ROOTED TO THE SPOT.
GONZO urges him out the door. The camera retreats with them.
The WAITRESS STANDS THERE — PETRIFIED. Alone in a lousy bar at night.
INT. FLAMINGO HOTEL SUITE – NIGHT
DUKE’s face as he stares at the knife — remembering…
GONZO (V/O) Drive! Drive! Drive! We have fifteen fucking minutes to get me on that plane!
EXT. ROAD ON OUTSKIRTS OF LAS VEGAS – DAY
The WHITE WHALE, looking like shit — it’s TOP HALF UP, TORN, SLAPPING IN THE WIND — ROARS THROUGH AN INTERSECTION as the light turns red.
DR. GONZO FRANTICALLY PAWS OVER A MAP.
DUKE drives — SILENT AND FURIOUS — sick to his stomach with the PSYCHOTIC GONZO.
GONZO What are you doing? You were supposed to turn back there!
DUKE (V/O) We had abused every rule that Vegas lived by — burning the locals, abusing the tourists, terrifying the help. The only chance now, I felt, was the possibility that we’d gone to such excess that nobody in the position to bring the hammer down on us could possibility believe it.
DUKE suddenly SLAMS ON THE BRAKES. 105.
GONZO Jesus Christ!!!
There, crossing the road in front of them, is LUCY — her paintings under her arm — looking lost. SHE LOOKS UP WITH A VAGUE SENSE OF RECOGNITION…
DUKE throws the car into a SKIDDING REVERSE TURN AND ROARS OFF.
EXT. DESERT ROAD OUTSIDE LAS VEGAS – DAY
THE WHITE WHALE TEARS DOWN THE DESERTED FREEWAY. GONZO looks wildly around.
GONZO Goddamnit! We’re lost! What are we doing out here on this godforsaken road?
GONZO sees that THEY’RE RUNNING PARALLEL WITH THE AIRPORT RUNWAY.
GONZO The airport is over there!
DUKE Never missed a plane yet.
DUKE HITS THE BRAKES and wrenches the wheel — takes the WHALE down into the grassy freeway divider. WHEELS CHURNING, HE MAKES IT UP THE OPPOSITE BANK, nose of the car straight up, then BOUNCES ONTO THE FREEWAY and keeps going right OVER A FENCE, dragging it through a cactus field and onto the RUNWAY.
GONZO is FROZEN WITH FEAR — GRIPPING THE DASHBOARD. He throws a worried look at DUKE.
DUKE I’ll drop you right next to the plane.
They SPEED UNDER A PARKED AIRPLANE, SHOUTING ABOVE THE JET ENGINE SCREAM.
GONZO No! I can’t get out! They’ll crucify me. I’ll have to take the blame! 106.
DUKE (irritatedly) Ridiculous! Just say you were hitchhiking to the airport and I picked you up. You never saw me before. Shit, this town is full of white Cadillac convertibles. I plan to go through there so fast that nobody will even glimpse the goddamn license plate. You ready?
GONZO Why not? But for Christ’s sake, just do it fast!
EXT. AT THE AIRPLANE – DAY
DUKE SCREECHES UP in front of the DESERT AIR 727. GONZO JUMPS OUT — HEADS FOR THE PLANE.
DUKE watches him go — RELENTS.
DUKE Hey!
GONZO stops — turns.
DUKE Don’t take any guff from those swine. Remember, if you have any trouble you can always send a telegram to the Right People.
GONZO Yeah… Explaining my Position. Some asshole wrote a poem about that once…
GONZO pauses.
GONZO Probably good advice, if you have shit for brains.
GONZO turns and RACES TOWARDS THE STEPS JUST AS HE IS ABOUT TO ENTER THE PLANE HE PAUSES AND LOOKS BACK…SMILES…AND LEANS FORWARD AND VOMITS.
DUKE (V/O) There he goes — one of God’s own prototypes — a high powered mutant of some kind never even considered for mass production. Too weird to live and too rare to die. 107.
DUKE watches for a second then ROARS AWAY. PULL BACK WITH THE WHITE SHARK — LEAVING THE AIRPLANE FAR BEHIND.
INT. FLAMINGO HOTEL SUITE/APOCALYPSE – NIGHT
On the TV an airplane soars thru the sky. Pull back to find DUKE barricaded in GONZO’S BEDROOM. He is typing on his typewriter.
DUKE We are all wired into a survival trip now. No more of the speed that fueled that 60’s. That was the fatal flaw in Tim Leary’s trip. He crashed around America selling “consciousness expansion” without ever giving a thought to the grim meat-hook realities that were lying in wait for all the people who took him seriously…
DUKE records like A WAR CORRESPONDENT. The CAMERA slowly rises — DUKE alone in the room with the TV SPEWING OUT IMAGES OF WARS AND CIVIL UNREST OF THE 90’S.
DUKE All those pathetically eager acid freaks who thought they could buy Peace and Understanding for three bucks a hit. But their loss and failure is ours too. What Leary took down with him was the central illusion of a whole life-style that he helped create…
RISING HIGHER — THE WALLS OF THE ROOM APPEAR TO BY 20 TO 30 FEET HIGH. DUKE SEEMS TO BE AT THE BOTTOM OF A WELL… THE CAMERA RISES UP THROUGH BROKEN TIMBERS…
DUKE … a generation of permanent cripples, failed seekers, who never understood the essential old-mystic fallacy of the Acid Culture: the desperate assumption that somebody… or at least some force — is tending the light at the end of the tunnel.
HIGHER STILL — DUKE ALONE IN THE ROOM — AN ISOLATED BOX SURROUNDED BY THE TWISTED METAL AND RUBBLE AND SMASHED NEON SIGNS OF THE DEAD CITY — A BLASTED LANDSCAPE WITHOUT LIGHT — SHARDS OF A CIVILIZATION. 108.
EXT. DESERT HIGHWAY – DAY
A BURNING FLARED-OUT SUN. The camera pans down to DUKE DRIVING THE WRECKED WHALE. A piece of the fence flies out of the back seat as he takes a bump.
DUKE (V/O) There was only one road back to L.A. US Interstate 15, just a flat-out high speed burn through Baker and Barstow and Berdoo, then on to the Hollywood Freeway straight into frantic oblivion: safety, obscurity, just another freak in the Freak Kingdom.
DUKE sees THE HARDWARE BARN, A RUSTIC OLD FARM BUILDING facing the road with a single gas pump outside and a neon sign that flashes beer.
DUKE Ahhh. Wonderful.
DUKE PULLS OFF THE ROAD and parks. Gets out and walks in.
INT. HARDWARE BARN – BAKER, CALIFORNIA – DAY
DUKE enters the DARK, CLUTTERED INTERIOR. Scattered all about the store are BITS OF AMERICANA… OLD BARRELS, WAGON WHEELS, WOODEN YOKES. A STUFFED HORSE HANGS FROM THE RAFTERS. The sunlight shafts through high windows. AN OLD MAN is repairing an iron pot-bellied stove near the wooden bar. A NORMAN ROCKWELL PAINTING… ONLY REAL.
PROPRIETOR What’ll you have?
DUKE can’t quite believe this place — too good to be true.
DUKE (doubtfully) Ballantine Ale…?
THE PROPRIETOR serves the ale up ice cold. DUKE SMILES AND RELAXES.
DUKE Hard to find it served like this anymore.
As he drinks, DUKE toys with a rack of key chains — LITTLE AMERICAN ICONS… A REMINGTON COWBOY, A BUGS BUNNY, A TWEETY PIE, BETTY BOOP, A BASEBALL PLAYER. The logo on the rack reads: AMERICAN DREAM KEY RINGS. 109.
PROPRIETOR Where ya comin’ from, young man?
DUKE Las Vegas.
PROPRIETOR A great town, that Vegas. I bet you had good luck there. You’re the type.
DUKE I know. I’m a triple Scorpio.
PROPRIETOR (trustingly) That’s a fine combination. You can’t lose.
A LOVELY GIRL appears. Seeing DUKE, she smiles. CAN THIS REALLY BE HIS LUCKY DAY? She approaches him… and… KISSES THE PROPRIETOR.
DUKE (caught off guard… muttering) Oh, my God!…
PROPRIETOR (not understanding) This is my granddaughter…
DUKE (recovering) Don’t worry… (leans forward in confidence) … and I’m actually the District Attorney from Ignoto County. (winks) Just another good American like yourself.
A MOMENT. THE PROPRIETOR’S SMILE DISAPPEARS.
Wordlessly the PROPRIETOR and his GRANDDAUGHTER go to the back of the store — GET ON WITH THEIR WORK — IGNORING DUKE.
WHO FEELS ASHAMED.
DUKE puts some money down on the bar and SLOWLY LEAVES.
EXT. HARDWARE BARN – DAY
A CHASTENED DUKE approaches the vomit streaked WHITE WHALE. Gets in — sits there — deflated — miserable… 110.
A state bus draws up across from the Hardware Barn.
Somberly, DUKE watches as TWO YOUNG MARINES with duffel bags step off — chatting like TRUE BROTHERS…
DUKE switches on the ignition. Something rolls off the trembling dash… DUKE catches it…
ONE SINGLE BEAUTIFUL AMYL CAPSULE…
DUKE CRACKS THE AMYL — INHALES. THE RUSH MAKES HIM GASP — TEETH BARED LIKE A MADMAN.
DUKE HOLY SHIT!!!
DUKE GUNS THE ENGINE with a laugh — leans out — YELLS AT THE MARINES.
DUKE GOD’S MERCY ON YOU SWINE!
DUKE ROARS AWAY. AN AMERICAN FLAG FLIES UP FROM THE DEBRIS IN THE BACK SEAT, MADLY UNFURLING ITSELF AS IT SNAGS ON THE CONVERTIBLE-TOP FRAME OF THE TRASHED WHITE WHALE!
AAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!!!
The TWO MARINES look after him CONFUSED.
EXT. DESERT HIGHWAY
DUKE drives fast — TEETH GRITTED IN FROZEN ECSTASY!!
DUKE CRANKS UP THE TAPE RECORDER.
DUKE (V/O) My heart was filled with joy. I felt like a monster reincarnation of Horatio Alger… a man on the move… and just sick enough to be totally confident.
The WHITE WHALE WIPES THE SCREEN BLACK.
AAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!!!
END
