Modern Blackjack Second Edition
- Thread starter QFIT
- Start date
QFIT said:
Got bored and added a few topics. If you bought the first version, I wouldn't bother buying the second. For information:
Maybe better would be something like a guy on horseback tilting at the windmills of Absecon, and the AC skyline in the background.
There was this old, sad-eyed guy that lived a block from me for 17 years and hung out in the plaza outside my window. It wasn't 'till he died that I found out it was Kurt Vonnegut.
Didn't see Dresden. I did pass over the old "Bridge of spies" into East Germany just after the Wall came down. There was a building that had been shot to pieces during the war, but still stood. They left it as a reminder of the war.
AC was worse. I remember one old hotel that looked like Roman or Greek ruins. The entire city was a shambles.
Didn't see Dresden. I did pass over the old "Bridge of spies" into East Germany just after the Wall came down. There was a building that had been shot to pieces during the war, but still stood. They left it as a reminder of the war.
AC was worse. I remember one old hotel that looked like Roman or Greek ruins. The entire city was a shambles.
Errata
To anyone that bought the second edition, in the section on Spanish 21 partial information hole-card play, the subtitles on pages 566 and 567 were switched. Page 566 should read Hole=2-9 and page 567 should read Hole=2-3. I have set up an errata page at www.qfit.com/modernblackjackbookerrata.htm in case any other errors are found.
To anyone that bought the second edition, in the section on Spanish 21 partial information hole-card play, the subtitles on pages 566 and 567 were switched. Page 566 should read Hole=2-9 and page 567 should read Hole=2-3. I have set up an errata page at www.qfit.com/modernblackjackbookerrata.htm in case any other errors are found.
I have just purchased the [combined] Vol. I & Vol. II of Modern Blackjack.
I eagerly look forward to wrapping my mind around QFIT's magnum opus.
The website that is handling the sale of the book is pretty clunky.
The link that I used on QFIT's site - told me that the books are NOT available.
I strongly suggest the use of this link:
http://www.lulu.com/browse/search.php?fListingClass=0&fSearch=Modern+Blackjack
I eagerly look forward to wrapping my mind around QFIT's magnum opus.
The website that is handling the sale of the book is pretty clunky.
The link that I used on QFIT's site - told me that the books are NOT available.
I strongly suggest the use of this link:
http://www.lulu.com/browse/search.php?fListingClass=0&fSearch=Modern+Blackjack
Hunter S Thompson tribute
Kurt Vonnegut's fine work got a play here a while back and so I thought Hunter S Thompson might deserve a tribute also... from his best-seller of the same name; and the 1998 Depp movie: Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas... Nice skyline you got there QF. I reckon HST would have liked it...
"Raoul Duke: One of the things you learn from years of dealing with drug people, is that you can turn your back on a person, but never turn your back on a drug. Especially when it's waving a razor-sharp hunting knife in your eye.
[watching Dr. Gonzo leave]
Raoul Duke: 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.
Raoul Duke: [commenting on the song "One Toke Over the Line" playing on the radio] One toke? You poor fool! Wait till you see those goddamn bats.
Dr. Gonzo: You drive. You drive. I think there's something wrong with me.
Dr. Gonzo: I hate to say this, but this place is getting to me. I think I'm getting the Fear.
Raoul Duke: Strange memories on this nervous night in Las Vegas. Has it been five years? Six? It seems like a lifetime, the kind of peak that never comes again. San Francisco in the middle sixties was a very special time and place to be a part of. But no explanation, no mix of words or music or memories can touch that sense of knowing that you were there and alive in that corner of time in the world. Whatever it meant.
Raoul Duke: There was madness in any direction, at any hour. You could strike sparks anywhere. There was a fantastic universal sense that whatever we were doing was right, that we were winning.
Raoul Duke: And that, I think, was the handle - that sense of inevitable victory over the forces of old and evil. Not in any mean or military sense; we didn't need that. Our energy would simply prevail. We had all the momentum; we were riding the crest of a high and beautiful wave. So now, less than five years later, you can go up on a steep hill in Las Vegas and look west, and with the right kind of eyes you can almost see the high-water mark - that place where the wave finally broke and rolled back.
Raoul Duke: With a bit of luck, his life was ruined forever. Always thinking that just behind some narrow door in all of his favorite bars, men in red woolen shirts are getting incredible kicks from things he'll never know.
[at a bizarre circus-themed casino]
Raoul Duke: Bazooko's Circus is what the whole hep world would be doing Saturday nights if the Nazis had won the war. This was the Sixth Reich.
Raoul Duke: Look, there's two women ****ing a polar bear!
Dr. Gonzo: Don't tell me these things. Not now man.
Dr. Gonzo: Hello? Hi Lucy, God bless. Yeah it's me. What? I dont know, I taught that bastard a lesson he'll never forget. What? No, not dead. But he won't be bothering anybody for a while. Yeah, I left him out there. I stomped him. I pulled all his teeth out.
Raoul Duke: I remember thinking 'Jesus, what a terrible thing to lay on someone with a head full of acid'.
Dr. Gonzo: But we have a problem. That bastard cashed a bad cheque downstairs and gave you as a reference. They'll be looking for both of you. Yeah I know. You can't judge a book by it's cover... some people are just basically rotten. Well the last thing in the world you want to do is call this hotel again. They'll trace the call and put you straight behind bars. Yeah I'm moving to the tropicana right away... when I get a room I'll let you know which one it is... I gotta get off. They probably have this phone tapped baby... Yeah I know it's horrible but it's all over now.
[stomps foot]
Dr. Gonzo: Oh my God... there's someone at the door. There's someone at the door!
[yelling and knocking things over]
Dr. Gonzo: Ahh! Ahh! I'm innocent! It was Duke! It was Duke!
[inaudible noises]
Dr. Gonzo: Ahh! Ahh! Don't put that thing on me! Aaah! Aaah! Aaah! aaah... aah... ah...
[hangs up]
Dr. Gonzo: Well, that's the last we should be hearing from Lucy man. She's probably stuffing herself down the incinerator about now. You know what we need? We need some opium.
Dr. Gonzo: We know what you're up to man.
Raoul Duke: [Beginning to narrate the "Jefferson Airplane" hallucination] There I was...
[Seeing the actual Hunter S. Thompson sitting in the scene]
Raoul Duke: Mother of God, there I am! Holy ****...
Dr. Gonzo: Hey honkies. You folks wanna buy some heroin? Goddamnit, I'm serious. All I'm trying to sell you is some pure ****ing smack! This is the real stuff! You won't get hooked. I just got back from Vietnam. Ahahaha... scag! Pbbbbbbb... I wanna sell you some pure ****ing smack... pure... ****...
Man in Car: Goddammit you bastards! Pull over! I'll kill you I'll kill you! Pull over, come on!
Raoul Duke: Come on you fiend!
Dr. Gonzo: Music, man. Put that tape on.
Raoul Duke: What tape?
Dr. Gonzo: Jefferson Airplane, "White Rabbit". I need a rising sound.
Raoul Duke: You're doomed. I'm leaving here in two hours and then they're going to come up here and beat the mortal **** out of you with big saps. Right there in that ****ing tub.
Dr. Gonzo: [Splashes and screams]
Raoul Duke: Alright, I'll do it. But do me one last favor, will you. Can you give me two hours? That's all I ask man, just two hours to sleep before tomorrow. I suspect it's going to be a very difficult day.
Raoul Duke: When I came to, the general back-alley ambience of the suite was so rotten, so incredibly foul. How long had I been lying there? All these signs of violence. What had happened? There was evidence in this room of excessive consumption of almost every type of drug known to civilized man since 1544 AD. What kind of addict would need all these coconut husks and crushed honeydew rinds? Would the presence of junkies account for all these uneaten french fries? These puddles of glazed ketchup on the bureau? Maybe so. But then why all this booze? And these crude pornographic photos smeared with mustard that had dried to a hard yellow crust? These were not the hoofprints of your average God-fearing junky. It was too savage. Too aggressive.
Dr. Gonzo: I have to go.
Raoul Duke: Go?
Dr. Gonzo: Yes. Leave the country.
Raoul Duke: Calm down. You'll be straight in a few hours. Just sit down, sit the **** down.
Dr. Gonzo: Don't **** around, man. This is serious. One more hour in this town and I'll kill somebody!
Raoul Duke: 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. Me and a thousand ranking cops from all over America. Why not? Move confidently into their midst.
Raoul Duke: Holy Jesus. What are these goddamn animals?
[first lines]
Raoul Duke: [narrating] We were somewhere around Barstow, on the edge of the desert, when the drugs began to take hold. I remember saying something like:
Raoul Duke: I feel a bit lightheaded. Maybe you should drive.
Raoul Duke: [narrating] Suddenly, there was a terrible roar all around us, and the sky was full of what looked like huge bats, all swooping and screeching and diving around the car, and a voice was screaming:
Raoul Duke: Holy Jesus. What are these goddamn animals?
[swatting the air]
Raoul Duke: Huh! Huh! Huh! ****ing pigs.
Dr. Gonzo: Did you say something?
Raoul Duke: Hm? Never mind. It's your turn to drive.
Raoul Duke: [narrating] No point in mentioning these bats, I thought. Poor bastard will see them soon enough.
Raoul Duke: A drug person can learn to cope with things like seeing their dead grandmother crawling up their leg with a knife in her teeth. But no one should be asked to handle this trip.
Raoul Duke: Few people understand the psychology of dealing with a highway traffic cop. A normal speeder will panic and immediately pull over to the side. This is wrong. It arouses contempt in the cop heart. Make the bastard chase you. He will follow. But he won't know what to make of your blinker signal that says you are about to turn right. This is to let him know you're pulling off for a proper place to talk. It will take him a moment to realize that he's about to make a 180 degree turn at speed, but you will be ready for it. Brace for the g's, and fast heel-toe work.
Raoul Duke: There was only one road back to L.A. - U.S. Interstate 15. Just a flat-out high speed burn through Baker and Barstow and Berdoo. Then onto the Hollywood Freeway, and straight on into frantic oblivion. Safety. Obscurity. Just another freak, in the freak kingdom.
Clerk at Flamingo Hotel: Can I call you a cab?
Police Chief: [screaming] Sure, and I'll call you a **********!
Clown Barker: Step right up and shoot the pasties off the nipples of a ten foot bull dyke! Win a cotton candy goat!
Raoul Duke: We had two bags of grass, seventy-five pellets of mescaline, five sheets of high-powered blotter acid, a saltshaker half-full of cocaine, and a whole galaxy of multi-colored uppers, downers, screamers, laughers... Also, a quart of tequila, a quart of rum, a case of beer, a pint of raw ether, and two dozen amyls. Not that we needed all that for the trip, but once you get into locked a serious drug collection, the tendency is to push it as far as you can. The only thing that really worried me was the ether. There is nothing in the world more helpless and irresponsible and depraved than a man in the depths of an ether binge, and I knew we'd get into that rotten stuff pretty soon.
Dr. Gonzo: Let's give the boy a lift.
Raoul Duke: What? No. We can't stop here. This is bat country.
Hitchhiker: Hot damn. I never rode in a convertible before.
Raoul Duke: Is that right? Well... I guess you're about ready, then, aren't you?
Dr. Gonzo: We're your friends. We're not like the others, man, really.
Raoul Duke: No more of that talk or I'll put the ****ing leeches on you, understand?
Dr. Gonzo: Heh heh heh...
Raoul Duke: [as the Hitchhiker stares at them nervously] Get in.
Raoul Duke: How long could we maintain? I wondered. How long until one of us starts raving and jabbering at this boy? What will he think then? This same lonely desert was the last known home of the Manson family; will he make that grim connection when my attorney starts screaming about bats and huge manta rays coming down on the car? If so, well, we'll just have to cut his head off and bury him somewhere, 'cause it goes without saying that we can't turn him loose. He'd report us at once to some kind of outback Nazi law enforcement agency and they'll run us down like dogs. Jesus, did I say that? Or just think it? Was I talking? Did they hear me?
Dr. Gonzo: It's okay. He's just admiring the shape of your skull.
Raoul Duke: Perhaps, if I explained things, he'd rest easy.
Raoul Duke: There's something you should know... Can you hear me? I want you to understand that this man at the wheel is my attorney. He's not just some dingbat I found on the strip, man. He's a foreigner. I think he's probably Samoan. But that doesn't matter, though, does it? Are you prejudiced?
Hitchhiker: Hell no.
Raoul Duke: I didn't think so. Because in spite of his race, this man is very valuable to me. Oh, ****. I forgot about the beer. You want one?
Hitchhiker: No.
Raoul Duke: How 'bout some ether?
Hitchhiker: What?
Raoul Duke: Never mind.
Raoul Duke: Let's get down to brass tacks. How much for the ape?
Raoul Duke: You better take care of me, Lord. If you don't you're gonna have me on your hands.
Raoul Duke: Those of us that 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.
Dr. Gonzo: As your attorney, I advise you to take a hit out of the little brown bottle in my shaving kit. You won't need much, just a tiny taste.
Raoul Duke: Ignore this terrible drug. Yeah. Pretend it's not happening.
Raoul Duke: Yeah. HI THERE! My name... is, uh, Raoul Duke. I'm on the list, that's for sure. Free lunch, final wisdom, total coverage. I have my attorneyyyyyyy, with me, and I realize that his name is not on that list, but we must have that suite! Must have that suite. What's the score here? What's next?
Desk Clerk at Mint Hotel: Your suite isn't ready yet. But someone was looking for you...
Raoul Duke: [seeing her morph into an eel] Why? We haven't done anything yet!
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: Panic. It crept up my spine like first rising vibes of an acid frenzy. All these horrible realities began to dawn on me. There I was. Alone in Las Vegas, completely twisted on drugs, no cash, no story for the magazine, and on top of everything else, a gigantic god damned hotel bill to deal with. How would Horatio Alger handle this situation? Stay calm. Stay calm.
Raoul Duke: [passing the real Hunter S. Thompson as an extra at the Jefferson Airplane party] There I was... Mother of God, there I am!
Raoul Duke: There's a uh, big machine in the sky, some kind of, I dunno, electric snake, coming straight at us.
Dr. Gonzo: Shoot it.
Raoul Duke: Not yet, I want to study its habits.
Dr. Gonzo: Jesus Christ. I knew you were sick but I never expected to hear you actually say that kind of stuff, you filthy bastard.
Raoul Duke: Straight economics man. This girl is a God-send. ****, she can make us a grand a day.
Dr. Gonzo: That's ugly, man. Stop talking like that.
Raoul Duke: I figure she can do about four at a time. If we keep her full of acid that's more like two grand a day. Maybe three.
Dr. Gonzo: Hold on, man. What if I just jump you and beat the dog **** out of you? Would that make you feel better? You filthy bastard.
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: ****. Truth hurts.
Dr. Gonzo: That's, argh! Argh! That's argh! Argh! That's argh!
Raoul Duke: Argh!
Dr. Gonzo: I wanted to help her, man.
Raoul Duke: Well, you'll go straight to the gas chamber for this one. And even if you manage to beat that, they'll still send you back to Nevada for rape and consensual sodomy. She's got to go.
Dr. Gonzo: ****. It doesn't pay to try to help someone these days. "
Kurt Vonnegut's fine work got a play here a while back and so I thought Hunter S Thompson might deserve a tribute also... from his best-seller of the same name; and the 1998 Depp movie: Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas... Nice skyline you got there QF. I reckon HST would have liked it...
"Raoul Duke: One of the things you learn from years of dealing with drug people, is that you can turn your back on a person, but never turn your back on a drug. Especially when it's waving a razor-sharp hunting knife in your eye.
[watching Dr. Gonzo leave]
Raoul Duke: 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.
Raoul Duke: [commenting on the song "One Toke Over the Line" playing on the radio] One toke? You poor fool! Wait till you see those goddamn bats.
Dr. Gonzo: You drive. You drive. I think there's something wrong with me.
Dr. Gonzo: I hate to say this, but this place is getting to me. I think I'm getting the Fear.
Raoul Duke: Strange memories on this nervous night in Las Vegas. Has it been five years? Six? It seems like a lifetime, the kind of peak that never comes again. San Francisco in the middle sixties was a very special time and place to be a part of. But no explanation, no mix of words or music or memories can touch that sense of knowing that you were there and alive in that corner of time in the world. Whatever it meant.
Raoul Duke: There was madness in any direction, at any hour. You could strike sparks anywhere. There was a fantastic universal sense that whatever we were doing was right, that we were winning.
Raoul Duke: And that, I think, was the handle - that sense of inevitable victory over the forces of old and evil. Not in any mean or military sense; we didn't need that. Our energy would simply prevail. We had all the momentum; we were riding the crest of a high and beautiful wave. So now, less than five years later, you can go up on a steep hill in Las Vegas and look west, and with the right kind of eyes you can almost see the high-water mark - that place where the wave finally broke and rolled back.
Raoul Duke: With a bit of luck, his life was ruined forever. Always thinking that just behind some narrow door in all of his favorite bars, men in red woolen shirts are getting incredible kicks from things he'll never know.
[at a bizarre circus-themed casino]
Raoul Duke: Bazooko's Circus is what the whole hep world would be doing Saturday nights if the Nazis had won the war. This was the Sixth Reich.
Raoul Duke: Look, there's two women ****ing a polar bear!
Dr. Gonzo: Don't tell me these things. Not now man.
Dr. Gonzo: Hello? Hi Lucy, God bless. Yeah it's me. What? I dont know, I taught that bastard a lesson he'll never forget. What? No, not dead. But he won't be bothering anybody for a while. Yeah, I left him out there. I stomped him. I pulled all his teeth out.
Raoul Duke: I remember thinking 'Jesus, what a terrible thing to lay on someone with a head full of acid'.
Dr. Gonzo: But we have a problem. That bastard cashed a bad cheque downstairs and gave you as a reference. They'll be looking for both of you. Yeah I know. You can't judge a book by it's cover... some people are just basically rotten. Well the last thing in the world you want to do is call this hotel again. They'll trace the call and put you straight behind bars. Yeah I'm moving to the tropicana right away... when I get a room I'll let you know which one it is... I gotta get off. They probably have this phone tapped baby... Yeah I know it's horrible but it's all over now.
[stomps foot]
Dr. Gonzo: Oh my God... there's someone at the door. There's someone at the door!
[yelling and knocking things over]
Dr. Gonzo: Ahh! Ahh! I'm innocent! It was Duke! It was Duke!
[inaudible noises]
Dr. Gonzo: Ahh! Ahh! Don't put that thing on me! Aaah! Aaah! Aaah! aaah... aah... ah...
[hangs up]
Dr. Gonzo: Well, that's the last we should be hearing from Lucy man. She's probably stuffing herself down the incinerator about now. You know what we need? We need some opium.
Dr. Gonzo: We know what you're up to man.
Raoul Duke: [Beginning to narrate the "Jefferson Airplane" hallucination] There I was...
[Seeing the actual Hunter S. Thompson sitting in the scene]
Raoul Duke: Mother of God, there I am! Holy ****...
Dr. Gonzo: Hey honkies. You folks wanna buy some heroin? Goddamnit, I'm serious. All I'm trying to sell you is some pure ****ing smack! This is the real stuff! You won't get hooked. I just got back from Vietnam. Ahahaha... scag! Pbbbbbbb... I wanna sell you some pure ****ing smack... pure... ****...
Man in Car: Goddammit you bastards! Pull over! I'll kill you I'll kill you! Pull over, come on!
Raoul Duke: Come on you fiend!
Dr. Gonzo: Music, man. Put that tape on.
Raoul Duke: What tape?
Dr. Gonzo: Jefferson Airplane, "White Rabbit". I need a rising sound.
Raoul Duke: You're doomed. I'm leaving here in two hours and then they're going to come up here and beat the mortal **** out of you with big saps. Right there in that ****ing tub.
Dr. Gonzo: [Splashes and screams]
Raoul Duke: Alright, I'll do it. But do me one last favor, will you. Can you give me two hours? That's all I ask man, just two hours to sleep before tomorrow. I suspect it's going to be a very difficult day.
Raoul Duke: When I came to, the general back-alley ambience of the suite was so rotten, so incredibly foul. How long had I been lying there? All these signs of violence. What had happened? There was evidence in this room of excessive consumption of almost every type of drug known to civilized man since 1544 AD. What kind of addict would need all these coconut husks and crushed honeydew rinds? Would the presence of junkies account for all these uneaten french fries? These puddles of glazed ketchup on the bureau? Maybe so. But then why all this booze? And these crude pornographic photos smeared with mustard that had dried to a hard yellow crust? These were not the hoofprints of your average God-fearing junky. It was too savage. Too aggressive.
Dr. Gonzo: I have to go.
Raoul Duke: Go?
Dr. Gonzo: Yes. Leave the country.
Raoul Duke: Calm down. You'll be straight in a few hours. Just sit down, sit the **** down.
Dr. Gonzo: Don't **** around, man. This is serious. One more hour in this town and I'll kill somebody!
Raoul Duke: 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. Me and a thousand ranking cops from all over America. Why not? Move confidently into their midst.
Raoul Duke: Holy Jesus. What are these goddamn animals?
[first lines]
Raoul Duke: [narrating] We were somewhere around Barstow, on the edge of the desert, when the drugs began to take hold. I remember saying something like:
Raoul Duke: I feel a bit lightheaded. Maybe you should drive.
Raoul Duke: [narrating] Suddenly, there was a terrible roar all around us, and the sky was full of what looked like huge bats, all swooping and screeching and diving around the car, and a voice was screaming:
Raoul Duke: Holy Jesus. What are these goddamn animals?
[swatting the air]
Raoul Duke: Huh! Huh! Huh! ****ing pigs.
Dr. Gonzo: Did you say something?
Raoul Duke: Hm? Never mind. It's your turn to drive.
Raoul Duke: [narrating] No point in mentioning these bats, I thought. Poor bastard will see them soon enough.
Raoul Duke: A drug person can learn to cope with things like seeing their dead grandmother crawling up their leg with a knife in her teeth. But no one should be asked to handle this trip.
Raoul Duke: Few people understand the psychology of dealing with a highway traffic cop. A normal speeder will panic and immediately pull over to the side. This is wrong. It arouses contempt in the cop heart. Make the bastard chase you. He will follow. But he won't know what to make of your blinker signal that says you are about to turn right. This is to let him know you're pulling off for a proper place to talk. It will take him a moment to realize that he's about to make a 180 degree turn at speed, but you will be ready for it. Brace for the g's, and fast heel-toe work.
Raoul Duke: There was only one road back to L.A. - U.S. Interstate 15. Just a flat-out high speed burn through Baker and Barstow and Berdoo. Then onto the Hollywood Freeway, and straight on into frantic oblivion. Safety. Obscurity. Just another freak, in the freak kingdom.
Clerk at Flamingo Hotel: Can I call you a cab?
Police Chief: [screaming] Sure, and I'll call you a **********!
Clown Barker: Step right up and shoot the pasties off the nipples of a ten foot bull dyke! Win a cotton candy goat!
Raoul Duke: We had two bags of grass, seventy-five pellets of mescaline, five sheets of high-powered blotter acid, a saltshaker half-full of cocaine, and a whole galaxy of multi-colored uppers, downers, screamers, laughers... Also, a quart of tequila, a quart of rum, a case of beer, a pint of raw ether, and two dozen amyls. Not that we needed all that for the trip, but once you get into locked a serious drug collection, the tendency is to push it as far as you can. The only thing that really worried me was the ether. There is nothing in the world more helpless and irresponsible and depraved than a man in the depths of an ether binge, and I knew we'd get into that rotten stuff pretty soon.
Dr. Gonzo: Let's give the boy a lift.
Raoul Duke: What? No. We can't stop here. This is bat country.
Hitchhiker: Hot damn. I never rode in a convertible before.
Raoul Duke: Is that right? Well... I guess you're about ready, then, aren't you?
Dr. Gonzo: We're your friends. We're not like the others, man, really.
Raoul Duke: No more of that talk or I'll put the ****ing leeches on you, understand?
Dr. Gonzo: Heh heh heh...
Raoul Duke: [as the Hitchhiker stares at them nervously] Get in.
Raoul Duke: How long could we maintain? I wondered. How long until one of us starts raving and jabbering at this boy? What will he think then? This same lonely desert was the last known home of the Manson family; will he make that grim connection when my attorney starts screaming about bats and huge manta rays coming down on the car? If so, well, we'll just have to cut his head off and bury him somewhere, 'cause it goes without saying that we can't turn him loose. He'd report us at once to some kind of outback Nazi law enforcement agency and they'll run us down like dogs. Jesus, did I say that? Or just think it? Was I talking? Did they hear me?
Dr. Gonzo: It's okay. He's just admiring the shape of your skull.
Raoul Duke: Perhaps, if I explained things, he'd rest easy.
Raoul Duke: There's something you should know... Can you hear me? I want you to understand that this man at the wheel is my attorney. He's not just some dingbat I found on the strip, man. He's a foreigner. I think he's probably Samoan. But that doesn't matter, though, does it? Are you prejudiced?
Hitchhiker: Hell no.
Raoul Duke: I didn't think so. Because in spite of his race, this man is very valuable to me. Oh, ****. I forgot about the beer. You want one?
Hitchhiker: No.
Raoul Duke: How 'bout some ether?
Hitchhiker: What?
Raoul Duke: Never mind.
Raoul Duke: Let's get down to brass tacks. How much for the ape?
Raoul Duke: You better take care of me, Lord. If you don't you're gonna have me on your hands.
Raoul Duke: Those of us that 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.
Dr. Gonzo: As your attorney, I advise you to take a hit out of the little brown bottle in my shaving kit. You won't need much, just a tiny taste.
Raoul Duke: Ignore this terrible drug. Yeah. Pretend it's not happening.
Raoul Duke: Yeah. HI THERE! My name... is, uh, Raoul Duke. I'm on the list, that's for sure. Free lunch, final wisdom, total coverage. I have my attorneyyyyyyy, with me, and I realize that his name is not on that list, but we must have that suite! Must have that suite. What's the score here? What's next?
Desk Clerk at Mint Hotel: Your suite isn't ready yet. But someone was looking for you...
Raoul Duke: [seeing her morph into an eel] Why? We haven't done anything yet!
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: Panic. It crept up my spine like first rising vibes of an acid frenzy. All these horrible realities began to dawn on me. There I was. Alone in Las Vegas, completely twisted on drugs, no cash, no story for the magazine, and on top of everything else, a gigantic god damned hotel bill to deal with. How would Horatio Alger handle this situation? Stay calm. Stay calm.
Raoul Duke: [passing the real Hunter S. Thompson as an extra at the Jefferson Airplane party] There I was... Mother of God, there I am!
Raoul Duke: There's a uh, big machine in the sky, some kind of, I dunno, electric snake, coming straight at us.
Dr. Gonzo: Shoot it.
Raoul Duke: Not yet, I want to study its habits.
Dr. Gonzo: Jesus Christ. I knew you were sick but I never expected to hear you actually say that kind of stuff, you filthy bastard.
Raoul Duke: Straight economics man. This girl is a God-send. ****, she can make us a grand a day.
Dr. Gonzo: That's ugly, man. Stop talking like that.
Raoul Duke: I figure she can do about four at a time. If we keep her full of acid that's more like two grand a day. Maybe three.
Dr. Gonzo: Hold on, man. What if I just jump you and beat the dog **** out of you? Would that make you feel better? You filthy bastard.
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: ****. Truth hurts.
Dr. Gonzo: That's, argh! Argh! That's argh! Argh! That's argh!
Raoul Duke: Argh!
Dr. Gonzo: I wanted to help her, man.
Raoul Duke: Well, you'll go straight to the gas chamber for this one. And even if you manage to beat that, they'll still send you back to Nevada for rape and consensual sodomy. She's got to go.
Dr. Gonzo: ****. It doesn't pay to try to help someone these days. "
