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Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas :: Thompson Hunter S.
Страница: 75 из 255" I muttered finally. "Just eat a big handful and see what happens."
"Some of what?"
"Extract of pineal."
He stared at me. "Sure," he said. "That's a good idea. One whiff of that shit would turn you into something out of a god damn medical encyclopedia! Man, your head would swell up like a watermelon, you'd probably gain about a hundred pounds in two hours… claws, bleeding warts, then you'd notice about six huge hairy tits swefling up on your back…" He shook his head emphatically. "Man, I'll try just about anything; but I'd never in hell touch a pineal gland.
"Last Christmas somebody gave me a whole Jimson weed - the root must have wqighed two pound; enough for a year - but I ate the whole goddamn thiung in about twenty minutes.”
The slightest hesitation made me want to grab him by the throat and force him to talk faster. "Right!" I said eagerly. "Jimson weed! What happened?"
"Luckily, I vomited most of it right back up," he said. "But even so, I went blind for three days. Christ I couldn't even walk! My whole body turned to wax. I was such a mess that they had to haul me back to the ranch house in a wheelbarrow… they said I was trying to talk, but I sounded like a raccoon."
"Fantastic," I said. But I could barely hear him. I was so wired that my hands were clawing uncontrollably at the bed spread, jerking it right out from under me while he talked. My heels were dug into the mattress, with both knees locked… I could feel my eyeballs swelling, about to pop out of the sockets.
"Finish the fucking story!" I snarled. "What happened? What about the glands?"
He backed away, keeping an eye on me as he edged across the room. "Maybe you need another drink," he said nervously. "Jesus, that stuff got right on top of you, didn't it?"
I tried to smile. "Well… nothing worse… no, this is worse…" It was hard to move my jaws; my tongue felt like burning magnesium. "No… nothing to worry about," I hissed. "Maybe if you could just… shove me into the pool, or something…
"Goddamnit," he said. "You took too much. You're about to ~plode. Jesus, look at your face!'
I couldn't move. Total paralysis now. Every muscle in my was contracted. I couldn't even move my eyeballs, much turn my head or talk.
“It won't last long," he said. "The first rush is the worst. ride the bastard out. If I put you in the pool right now, sink like a goddamn stone."
I was sure of it. Not even my lungs seemed to be functioning. I needed artificial respiration, but I couldn't open my mouth to say so. I was going to die.
"Some of what?"
"Extract of pineal."
He stared at me. "Sure," he said. "That's a good idea. One whiff of that shit would turn you into something out of a god damn medical encyclopedia! Man, your head would swell up like a watermelon, you'd probably gain about a hundred pounds in two hours… claws, bleeding warts, then you'd notice about six huge hairy tits swefling up on your back…" He shook his head emphatically. "Man, I'll try just about anything; but I'd never in hell touch a pineal gland.
"Last Christmas somebody gave me a whole Jimson weed - the root must have wqighed two pound; enough for a year - but I ate the whole goddamn thiung in about twenty minutes.”
The slightest hesitation made me want to grab him by the throat and force him to talk faster. "Right!" I said eagerly. "Jimson weed! What happened?"
"Luckily, I vomited most of it right back up," he said. "But even so, I went blind for three days. Christ I couldn't even walk! My whole body turned to wax. I was such a mess that they had to haul me back to the ranch house in a wheelbarrow… they said I was trying to talk, but I sounded like a raccoon."
"Fantastic," I said. But I could barely hear him. I was so wired that my hands were clawing uncontrollably at the bed spread, jerking it right out from under me while he talked. My heels were dug into the mattress, with both knees locked… I could feel my eyeballs swelling, about to pop out of the sockets.
"Finish the fucking story!" I snarled. "What happened? What about the glands?"
He backed away, keeping an eye on me as he edged across the room. "Maybe you need another drink," he said nervously. "Jesus, that stuff got right on top of you, didn't it?"
I tried to smile. "Well… nothing worse… no, this is worse…" It was hard to move my jaws; my tongue felt like burning magnesium. "No… nothing to worry about," I hissed. "Maybe if you could just… shove me into the pool, or something…
"Goddamnit," he said. "You took too much. You're about to ~plode. Jesus, look at your face!'
I couldn't move. Total paralysis now. Every muscle in my was contracted. I couldn't even move my eyeballs, much turn my head or talk.
“It won't last long," he said. "The first rush is the worst. ride the bastard out. If I put you in the pool right now, sink like a goddamn stone."
I was sure of it. Not even my lungs seemed to be functioning. I needed artificial respiration, but I couldn't open my mouth to say so. I was going to die.