It's okay. He's just admiring the shape of your skull.

Dr. Gonzo

You better take care of me, Lord. If you don't you're gonna have me on your hands.

Raoul Duke

Know your dope fiend. You will not be able to see his eyes because of tea shades, but his knuckles will be white from inner tension and his pants will be crusted with semen from constantly jacking off when he can't find a rape victim.

Voice of Drug Film Narrator

Raoul Duke: Yeah. Hi there! My name... is, uh, Raoul Duke. I'm on the list, that's for sure. Here to cover the race. I have my attorney... with me, and I realize that his name is not on that list, but we must have that suite! What's the score here? What's next?
Frog-Eyed Woman: Your suite isn't ready yet. But someone was looking for you...

Don't fuck with me now, man, I am Ahab.

Raoul Duke

Raoul Duke: I wouldn't dare go to sleep with you wandering around with a head full of acid, wanting to slice me up with that goddamn knife.
Dr. Gonzo: Who said anything about slicing you up, man? I just wanted to carve a little Z on your forehead.

Raoul Duke: Well? What are your plans?
Dr. Gonzo: Plans?
Raoul Duke: The child in the bedroom.
Dr. Gonzo: Oh, Lucy. I met her on the plane. Yeah, she's a religious freak. I gave her a cap before I realized... Jesus, she's never even had a drink before.

Raoul Duke: Alright listen to me. In a few hours, she'll probably be sane enough to work herself into some kind of 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 then savagely penetrated every orifice in her little body with his throbbing, uncircumcised member.
Dr. Gonzo: That's so ugly, man!
Raoul Duke: Fuck. Truth hurts.

Last name? I'd rather not say. My brother's in politics.

Raoul Duke

Fuck, you've gone completely sideways, man.

Raoul Duke

Are you ready for that? Checking into a Las Vegas hotel under a phony name with intent to commit capital fraud on a head full of acid? I sure hope so.

Dr. Gonzo

Raoul Duke: What was I doing here? What was the meaning of this trip? Was I just roaming around in a drug frenzy of some kind? Or had I really come out here to Las Vegas to work on a story? Who are these people, these faces? Where do they come from? They look like caricatures of used car dealers from Dallas, and sweet Jesus, there were a hell of a lot of them at 4:30 on a Sunday morning, still humping the American dream, that vision of the big winner somehow emerging from the last minute pre-dawn chaos of a stale Vegas casino.

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