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Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas :: Thompson Hunter S.
Страница: 181 из 255It was bad enough if she were only what she appeared to be - a strange young girl in the throes of a bad psychotic episode - but what worried me far more than that was the likelihood that she would probably be just sane enough, in a few hours, to work herself into a towering Jesus - based rage at the hazy recollection of being picked up and seduced in the Los Angeles International Airport by some kind of cruel Samoan who fed her liquor and LSD, then dragged her to a Vegas hotel room and savagely penetrated every orifice in her body with his throbbing, uncircumcised member.
I had a terrible vision of Lucy crashing into Barbra Strei - sand’s dressing room at the Americana and laying thisbrutal story on her. That would finish us. They would track us down and probably castrate us both, prior to booking
I explained this to my attorney, who was now in tears at the idea of sending Lucy away. She was still powerfully twisted, and I felt the only solution was to get her as far as possible from the Flamingo before she got straight enough to remember where she’d been and what happened to her.
Lucy, while we argued, was lying on the patio, doing a charcoal sketch of Barbra Streisand. From memory this time. It was a full - faced rendering, with teeth like baseballs and eyes like jellied fire.
The sheer intensity of the thing made me nervous. This girl was a walking bomb. God only knows what she might be doing with all that mis - wired energy right now if she didn’t have her sketch pad. And what was she going to do when she got straight enough to read The Vegas Vistitor, as I just had, and learn that Streisand wasn’t due at the Americana for another three weeks?
My attorney finally agreed that Lucy would have to go. The possibility of a Mann Act conviction, resulting in disbarment proceedings and total loss of his livelihood, was a key factor in his decision. A nasty federal rap. Especially for a monster Samoan facing a typical white middle - class jury in Southern California.
“They might even call it kidnapping,” I said. “Straight to the gas chamber, like Chessman. And even if you
manage to beatthat, they’ll send you back to Nevada for Rape and Congensual Sodomy.”
“No!” he shouted. “I felt sorry for the girl, I wanted to help her!”
I smiled. “That’s what Fatty Arbuckle said, and you know what they did to him.”
“Who?”
“Never mind,” I said. “Just picture yourself telling a jury that you tried to help this poor girl by giving her LSD and then taking her out to Vegas for one of your special stark - naked back rubs.”
He shook his head sadly.
I had a terrible vision of Lucy crashing into Barbra Strei - sand’s dressing room at the Americana and laying thisbrutal story on her. That would finish us. They would track us down and probably castrate us both, prior to booking
I explained this to my attorney, who was now in tears at the idea of sending Lucy away. She was still powerfully twisted, and I felt the only solution was to get her as far as possible from the Flamingo before she got straight enough to remember where she’d been and what happened to her.
Lucy, while we argued, was lying on the patio, doing a charcoal sketch of Barbra Streisand. From memory this time. It was a full - faced rendering, with teeth like baseballs and eyes like jellied fire.
The sheer intensity of the thing made me nervous. This girl was a walking bomb. God only knows what she might be doing with all that mis - wired energy right now if she didn’t have her sketch pad. And what was she going to do when she got straight enough to read The Vegas Vistitor, as I just had, and learn that Streisand wasn’t due at the Americana for another three weeks?
My attorney finally agreed that Lucy would have to go. The possibility of a Mann Act conviction, resulting in disbarment proceedings and total loss of his livelihood, was a key factor in his decision. A nasty federal rap. Especially for a monster Samoan facing a typical white middle - class jury in Southern California.
“They might even call it kidnapping,” I said. “Straight to the gas chamber, like Chessman. And even if you
manage to beatthat, they’ll send you back to Nevada for Rape and Congensual Sodomy.”
“No!” he shouted. “I felt sorry for the girl, I wanted to help her!”
I smiled. “That’s what Fatty Arbuckle said, and you know what they did to him.”
“Who?”
“Never mind,” I said. “Just picture yourself telling a jury that you tried to help this poor girl by giving her LSD and then taking her out to Vegas for one of your special stark - naked back rubs.”
He shook his head sadly.