Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas Page #4

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.

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