Excerpts from "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas"
1:
. . . Jesus Creeping God! Is there a priest in this tavern? I want to confess! I'm a fucking sinner! Venal, mortal, carnal, major, minor--however you want to call it, Lord . . . I'm guilty.
But do me this one last favor: Just give me five more high speed hours before you bring the hammer down; just let me get rid of this goddamn car and off of this horrible desert.
Wich is not really a hell of alot to ask, Lord, because the final incredible truth is that I am not guilty. All I did was take your gibberish seriously . . . and you see where it got me? My primitive Christian instincts have made me a criminal.
Creeping through the casino at six in the morning with a suitcase full of grapefruit and "Mint 400" t-shirts, I remember telling myself, over and over again, "You are not guilty." This is merely a a necessary expedient, to avoid a nasty scene. After all, I made no binding agreements; this is an institutional debt--nothing personal. This whole goddamn nightmare is the fault of that stinking, irresponsible magazine. Some fool in New York did this to me. It was his idea, Lord, not mine.
And now look at me: half-crazy with fear, driving 120 miles an hour across Death Valley in some car I never even wanted. You evil bastard! This is your work! You'd better take care of me, Lord . . . because if you don't you're going to have me on your hands."
2:
. . . We made several more calls and finally located our equipment in a store about five miles away. It was closed, but the salesman said he would wait, if we hurried. But we were delayed en route when a stingray in front of us killed a pedestrian on Sunset Boulevard. The store was closed by the time we got there. There were people inside, but they refused to come to the double-glass door until we gave it a few belts and made ourselves clear.
Finally two salesmen brandishing tire irons came to the door and we managed to negotiate the sale through a tiny slit. Then they opened the door just wide enough to shove the equipment out, before slamming and locking it again. "Now take that stuff and get the hell away from here," one of them shouted through the slit.
My attorney shook his fist at them. "We'll be back," he yelled. "One of these days I'll toss a fucking bomb into this place! I have your name on this sales slip! I'll find out where you live and burn your house down!"
"That'll give im something to think about," he muttered as we drove off. "That guy is a paranoid psychotic, anyway. They're easy to spot."
We had trouble, again, at the car rental agency. After signing all the papers, I got in the car and almost lost control of it while backing across the lot to the gas pump. The rental-man was obviously shaken.
"Say there . . . uh . . . you fellas are going to be careful with this car aren't you?"
"Of course."
"Well, good god!" he said. "You just backed over that two-foot concrete abutment and you didn't even slow down! Forty-five in reverse! And you barely missed the pump!"
"No harm done," I said. "I always test a transmission that way. The rear end. For stress factors."
"Just fill the goddamn tank," my attorney snapped. "We're in a hell of a hurry. We're on our way to Las Vegas for a desert race."
"What?"
"Never mind," I said. "We're responsible people." I watched him put the gas cap on, then I jammed the thing into low gear and we lurched into traffic.
"There's another worrier," said my attorney. "He's probably all cranked up on speed."
"Yeah, you should have given him some reds."
"Reds wouldn't help a pig like that," he said. "To hell with ime. We have a lot of business to take care of , before we can get on the road."
"I'd like to get hold of some priests' robes," I said. "They might come in handy in Las Vegas."
But there were no costume stores open, and we weren't up to burglarizing a church. "Why bother?" Said my attorney. "And you have to remember that alot of cops are good vicious Catholics. Can you imagine what those bastards would do to us if we got busted all drugged-up and drunk in stolen vestements? Jesus, they'd castrate us!"
