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Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas :: Thompson Hunter S.
Страница: 84 из 255We only got our hands on a few.
Most of the crew got away; just ran off across the sand dimes, like big lizards… and every one of them stark naked, except for the weapons.”
‘They’ll turn up everwhere, pretty soon.” OI said. “And let’s hope we'll be ready for them."
The Georgia man whacked his fist on the bar. "But we can't just lock ourselves in the house and be prisoners!" he ex aimed. "We don't even know who these people are! How do you recognize them?
"You can't," my attorney replied. "The only way to do it is to take the bull by the horns - go to the mat with this scum!"
"What do you mean by that?" he asked.
"You know what I mean," said my attorney. "We've done it before, and we can damn well do it again.”
"Cut their goddamn heads off," I said. "Every one of them. That's what we're doing in California."
“ What? ”
"Sure," said my attorney. "It's all on the Q.T., but everybody who matters is with us all the way down the line."
"God! I had no idea it was that bad out there!" said our friend.
“We keep it quiet," I said. "It's not the kind of thing you'd to talk about upstairs, for instance. Not with the press around.”
Our man agreed. "Hell no!" he said. "We'd never hear the ~goddamn end of it."
"Dobermans don't talk," I said.
"What?"
"Sometimes it's easier to just rip out the backstraps," said attorney.
"They'll fight like hell if you try to take the I without dogs."
“God almighty!"
We left him at the bar, swirling the ice in his drink and not smiling. He was worried about whether or not to tell his wife It it. "She'd never understand," he muttered. "You know women are."
I nodded. My attorney was already gone, scurrying through of slot machines toward the front door. I said goodbye end, warning him not to say anything about what him.
8. Back Door Beauty… Finally a Bit of Serious Drag Racing on the Strip
»Sometime around midnight my attorney wanted coffee. He bad been vomiting fairly regularly as we drove around the Strip, and the right flank of the Whale was badly streaked. We were idling at a stoplight in front of the Silver Slipper beside a big blue Ford with Oklahoma plates… two hoggish- looking couples in the car, probably cops from Muskogee using the Drug Conference to give their wives a look at Vegas.
Most of the crew got away; just ran off across the sand dimes, like big lizards… and every one of them stark naked, except for the weapons.”
‘They’ll turn up everwhere, pretty soon.” OI said. “And let’s hope we'll be ready for them."
The Georgia man whacked his fist on the bar. "But we can't just lock ourselves in the house and be prisoners!" he ex aimed. "We don't even know who these people are! How do you recognize them?
"You can't," my attorney replied. "The only way to do it is to take the bull by the horns - go to the mat with this scum!"
"What do you mean by that?" he asked.
"You know what I mean," said my attorney. "We've done it before, and we can damn well do it again.”
"Cut their goddamn heads off," I said. "Every one of them. That's what we're doing in California."
“ What? ”
"Sure," said my attorney. "It's all on the Q.T., but everybody who matters is with us all the way down the line."
"God! I had no idea it was that bad out there!" said our friend.
“We keep it quiet," I said. "It's not the kind of thing you'd to talk about upstairs, for instance. Not with the press around.”
Our man agreed. "Hell no!" he said. "We'd never hear the ~goddamn end of it."
"Dobermans don't talk," I said.
"What?"
"Sometimes it's easier to just rip out the backstraps," said attorney.
"They'll fight like hell if you try to take the I without dogs."
“God almighty!"
We left him at the bar, swirling the ice in his drink and not smiling. He was worried about whether or not to tell his wife It it. "She'd never understand," he muttered. "You know women are."
I nodded. My attorney was already gone, scurrying through of slot machines toward the front door. I said goodbye end, warning him not to say anything about what him.
8. Back Door Beauty… Finally a Bit of Serious Drag Racing on the Strip
»Sometime around midnight my attorney wanted coffee. He bad been vomiting fairly regularly as we drove around the Strip, and the right flank of the Whale was badly streaked. We were idling at a stoplight in front of the Silver Slipper beside a big blue Ford with Oklahoma plates… two hoggish- looking couples in the car, probably cops from Muskogee using the Drug Conference to give their wives a look at Vegas.