#Beverly and will were FRIENDS GODDAMNIT

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Listen I think Beverly should have been allowed to live to wills trial. Girl gets called to the stand goes over the evidence she found and then has 12 binders of more evidence of how it could not be will. Hannibal does of course murder her the next day but the damage is already done by that point

[i-am-very-very-tired]

In the wake of Tuesday’s shocking New Yorker exposé, several more actresses came forward with harrowing stories of sexual harassment and assault at the hands of movie mogul Harvey Weinstein. One of these brave women was Angelina Jolie, who said the predatory studio executive had made unwanted advances to her in a hotel room around the release of 1998’s Playing by Heart, which was distributed by Weinstein-owned Miramax Films. “I had a bad experience with Harvey Weinstein in my youth, and as a result, chose never to work with him again and warn others when they did,” she told The New York Times. Another was Gwyneth Paltrow, who alleged that, prior to shooting what would prove to be her breakthrough role in 1996’s Emma, Weinstein approached the then-22-year-old actress in a Beverly Hills hotel suite, put his hands on her shoulders, and intimated that they move to the bedroom for “massages.” She immediately left, disgusted. “I was a kid, I was signed up, I was petrified,” she recalled to the Times. The testimonies of Jolie and Paltrow proved particularly disturbing because they proved that Weinstein had the power and influence to silence anyone—even Hollywood royalty. Jolie, after all, is the daughter of Oscar-winning actor Jon Voight, and Paltrow the progeny of director Bruce Paltrow and actress Blythe Danner, and the goddaughter of Steven Spielberg. Another thing these two talented women have in common is their proximity to the actor Brad Pitt. Paltrow dated Pitt from 1994-1997 before breaking off their engagement, while Jolie was Pitt’s partner from 2005-2016. Their divorce is still pending. In the Times piece, Paltrow said that she’d confided in Pitt about the Weinstein episode, and that the actor proceeded to confront Weinstein at a film premiere and warn him to never do anything like that to his girlfriend again. (Pitt confirmed as much to the Times.)“Brad threatened Harvey. He got right in his face, poked him in the chest, and said, ‘You will not ever do this to Gwyneth ever again,’” a source told People, adding that if Weinstein did try anything again, the Springfield native told the portly New Yorker he’d get a good “Missouri whooping.” Many online were quick to praise Pitt, then a rising star, for giving a studio bigwig like Weinstein the business—something that precious few Hollywood men felt compelled to do both during the mogul’s three-decade reign of terror and after the sickening revelations came to light. But why, then, did Pitt continue to work with Weinstein not once, but twice: on 2009’s Inglourious Basterds and 2012’s Killing Them Softly? The Weinstein allegations have led to a broader discussion of Hollywood complicity—the power brokers who were not only aware of his despicable behavior but may have helped facilitate his hotel liaisons with a bevy of up-and-coming actresses. Paltrow told the Times that her hotel “meeting” with Weinstein was listed “on a schedule from her agents,” while the actress Rose McGowan, who reportedly agreed to a $100,000 settlement with Weinstein after a 1997 hotel incident during the Sundance Film Festival, tweeted out an alleged email sent from an agent to the actress Lindsay Lohan requesting a hotel “meeting” with Weinstein at the Peninsula Beverly Hills, the site of many an alleged Weinstein attack, for a cameo in an unnamed Scream sequel. The tweet has since been deleted.

While a parade of agents, executives, producers, and assistants were no doubt aware) October 10, 2017 @benaffleck “GODDAMNIT! I TOLD HIM TO STOP DOING THAT” you said that to my face. The press conf I was made to go to after assault. You lie.

George Clooney, a work friend of Pitt’s, claimed to The Daily Beast that he and many of his high-profile actor friends in Hollywood were unaware of Weinstein’s purported penchant for sexually harassing and assaulting women. “If you’re asking if I knew that someone who was very powerful had a tendency to hit on young, beautiful women, sure. But I had no idea that it had gone to the level of having to pay off eight women for their silence, and that these women were threatened and victimized,” he offered. But Brad Pitt knew. By his own admission, Paltrow informed him that Weinstein had sexually harassed her all the way back in 1996. While Paltrow explained to the Times how she felt she had to “suppress the experience” of being attacked by Weinstein, and, after being threatened by the exec, went on to act in several other Weinstein-shepherded films (including an Oscar-winning turn in 1998’s Shakespeare in Love), by the late-Aughts Pitt had the power to affect change. He was, as Clooney told Esquire, “the biggest movie star in the world… he’s bigger than me, bigger than DiCaprio.” He ran a successful production company in Plan B Entertainment, responsible for hits like The Departed. And yet, he opted to star in Quentin Tarantino’s 2009 film Inglourious Basterds, which was distributed by The Weinstein Company. A source close to Pitt confirms to The Daily Beast that Pitt knew of the Paltrow incident with Weinstein but that “Quentin went to him directly to bring him into the project, and Brad did it because of the relationship and the contact. Interaction with Harvey was very limited.” The source, however, went on to explain that since every Tarantino project has been distributed by Weinstein, Pitt understood that Inglourious would be as well. They could not confirm whether Pitt knew at the time of his then-girlfriend Jolie’s alleged incident with Weinstein, and representatives for Jolie and Pitt would not respond to multiple requests for comment on this story. And, while Pitt’s interactions with Weinstein may have been limited, the exec’s involvement in the project was anything but. Weinstein, who’s earned the nickname “Harvey Scissorhands” for his tendency to demand film edits, usually shies away from meddling with Tarantino movies but was rumored to have demanded that its initial three-hour running time be cut down by at least a half-hour (its final running time: 153 minutes). Weinstein also launched aggressive Oscar campaigns for the film and Pitt, fresh off a Best Actor nod the previous year for The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, doing interview after interview touting their credentials and flooding Academy voters with cheap, non-watermarked DVD screeners. You see, there was a lot riding on Inglourious Basterds. The Weinstein Company was in dire financial straits, having recently hired a high-powered financial advisory firm to restructure after incurring heavy debt. The film’s ultimate success, earning eight Academy Award nominations and grossing over $321 million worldwide, helped keep the company afloat. Following the release of Inglourious, Pitt agreed to star in and produce an adaptation of the book Cogan’s Trade, directed by Andrew Dominik and developed by Plan B. After a heated bidding war, the of Weinstein’s appalling behavior, it’s not entirely clear how many actors were—particularly big-name male actors who had, as Lena Dunham so eloquently wrote in the Times, “the least to lose and the most power to shift the narrative, and are probably not dealing with the same level of collective and personal trauma around these allegations.”

McGowan charged on Twitter that the actor/filmmaker Ben Affleck, who dated Paltrow from 1997-2000, knew full well about Weinstein’s reputation (McGowan starred alongside Affleck in Phantoms, released by Miramax one year after her alleged hotel incident with Weinstein). — rose mcgowan (@rosemcgowan distribution rights to the film were sold to The Weinstein Company, who promised a $20 million ad spend. The film, ultimately titled Killing Them Softly, was released in 2012 by Pitt and Weinstein, earning a meager $15 million stateside. Our source in Pitt’s camp said that they were “unable to provide any context” about exactly why Pitt chose to collaborate with Weinstein again on the crime drama (and in a much more involved capacity) despite his ex-fiancée telling him that she’d been accosted by the exec, and that he’d allegedly—perhaps unbeknownst to Pitt, perhaps not—attacked his then-partner Jolie. The Harvey Weinstein sexual-assault scandal has not only underscored the remarkable courage of the women who chose to come forward, but the cowardice and complicity of the myriad men in power who didn’t. As Lena Dunham wrote, “Hollywood’s silence, particularly that of men who worked closely with Mr. Weinstein, only reinforces the culture that keeps women from speaking. When we stay silent, we gag the victims. When we stay silent, we condone behavior that none of us could possibly believe is O.K. (unless you do). When we stay silent, we stay on the same path that led us here. Making noise is making change. Making change is why we tell stories. We don’t want to have to tell stories like this one again and again. Speak louder.”

[thoughtfullyyoungduck]

Not your fault part two

A/N: this is technically a part two but you def don’t need to read the first one to read this one! The only thing you need to know is that Emily is the adoptive daughter of Stan, Bill and Richie and that’s it. I you want to see any type of other request just send them in! 

Summary: Stan, Bill and Richie return to Derry along side their daughter. Pennywise kidnaps her.  

‘Emily please come back here.’ Stan pleaded, his voice rough as the tears continued to stream down his face like waterfalls. His hand reached out toward his daughter, who doesn’t even so much as glance towards him. ‘Emily’, Stan tries again desperately, his heart is beating in his chest so hard he can hear it, the blood still seeping down his face where he got hit, yet there is still no reaction. A door jingles left of them, it’s Bill and Richie, Stan guesses, but he doesn’t dare to take his eyes of her, afraid that she might disappear if he does so. ‘Stan, Emily open this fucking door’, Richie cries out breathlessly, the pounding on the door getting more insistent with the second. Stan stand up shakily, he has to press his hand against the wall to stay upright, and he takes a hesitant step forward.

As his hand leaves the wall a bloody handprint is left in its place, seemingly taunting Bill, who just manages to glance into the room enough to the handprint. Instantly Bill feels the panic consume him. He can’t see Stan, but he did hear him call out to their daughter, so at least he’s still breathing. Emily however is not responding to any of Stan calls, nor to Richie’s or Bill’s. ‘Stan, Stan, p-p-please talk to us. W-w-what’s happening?’ The stutter makes Bill pause for a second, shocked that for the first time in 20 years, he can’t pronounce his words without stuttering anymore. It’s an indication of the absolute terror consuming his body, but he does his best to suppress it, and after a brief pause, his slamming on the door intensified. The door almost seems to give way to his shoulder slams, and Richie lets out a brief cry, filled with relief, but then the door slams shut once again. ‘Guys, guys fuck please we need help, please help us’, Richie calls out to their friends, but the truth is that neither Stan nor Bill nor Richie has seen their friends since they ran out of the hotel to find Emily. Richie cries out against all hope, because he knows there is no one here to help them.

Stan takes another slow step towards Emily, placing his hand on her shoulder, slightly shaking her. He knows what he’ll see, because Emily has never ever ignored him without reason. Expecting something, and it actually happening however, are two completely different things. When Stan moves in front of her, a sob leaves his lips before he can even think to keep it in. It makes Bill and Richie try even harder to open the door, but still the door stubbornly refuses to open.

 Emily’s eyes are wide open, but her irises is completely gone, the forest green disappeared and in its wake is nothing left but white. The expression on her face is one of purse terror. Her mount is dropped open, her eyes unabashed staring forward towards one spot and her body rigid. Stan has only once seen this look on someone’s face, 27 years ago, when it was on Beverly’s. Hesitantly he places his hand against her cheek, pulling away quickly when he notices how cold she really is, before firmly placing his hand at the same spot again, stroking it lovingly.

The tears that had briefly stopped, start back up and this time Stan calls out to Bill and Richie, finally acknowledging their presence. ‘Richie, Bill. I.. IT,’ Stan finally whimpers out, ‘IT has her’.

His words seem to break whatever spell the door was under, as finally the door breaks down. Bill and Richie rush in, but both stop once they see Stan’s face and the body of their daughter standing there as stiff as a board. She’s not levitating, like Bev was, but it seems as that was only done to trick the three boys, to make them think she might be okay, and then rip away that hope.

Stan is sobbing and Bill, ever the leader, takes it upon himself to pull his head towards his chest, to be the rock that hold Stan and Richie together. Stan never lets himself cry in front of people, the fact that he now drops down on his knees, into the disgusting floor of the house on Neibolt street, while he presses his face against Bill’s stomach, is proof that he is completely broken down and wrecked.

Bill is squeezing his eyes shut, like he can’t look at Emily because he knows he will break down if he does. Richie does look at her and the tears well up in his own eyes, but he pushes them back, crying won’t save his daughter. He presses his lips to her forehead gently before turning towards Stan and Bill, grabbing both of their hands.

‘We need the save her, we saved Beverly when we were fucking 13, so now we can definitely save our daughter as 40 year old goddamnit’. His voice cracks as he says it, but he stubbornly refuses to give up.

Bill is already starting to nod his head, ‘rich is right, we can save her, we just need to find IT’. He breaths

Stan looks up from where he was buried in Bill’s stomach, the tears still flowing down his cheeks. ‘What if we can’t? What if we lost her forever?’

‘We haven’t, nothing, not even a m-m-motherfucking clown can keep us from our daughter, let go save her’. Bill whispers as he presses his forehead against Stan’s, while Richie wraps his arms around the both of them. The three of them taking comfort in each other for a second, before standing up with determination. As Stan lifts his head a bloodspot appears on the spot where his head was previously, and Richie shudders. He can still hear the crack from Stan’s head hitting the stairs at pennywise dragged him down the stairs, and into the room where they were currently at.

They had been stupid, they should have waited for their friends to catch up. Instead they were so overcome with worry that as soon as they opened the fortune cookies and matched the sentence, they couldn’t get into Neibolt fast enough. Hope you said goodbye to Emily, because I’m going to kill her, the sentence had said. Bill blames himself, he was the one that suggested them leaving Emily alone in the hotelroom, because he had an uncomfortable feeling that he didn’t want his daughter anywhere near the town. Turns out, Emily should have come with them to the Chinese restaurant. She was left all alone, defenseless and an easy target for IT to take her. Bill shakes his head to clear his thoughts. His daughter needs him now, he can’t waste any time.

‘Pennywise, where the hell are you?’ Bill bellowed. He didn’t have a clue what else to do, how else to save his daughter. Stan’s head snapped in his direction. ‘Stop, Bill, what are you doing’? he hissed, moving his hand to covers Bill mouth. Richie stopped him, all while shaking his head. ‘Let him come, How else or we supposed to help Emily’? He asked.

Stan’s entire body was shaking, and for a second he was worried he would pass out. Then he looked at Emily, and a protective feeling washed over him. He wasn’t going to let some clown take away his family.  ‘Hey asshole, where are you?’ his voice didn’t shake as much as Stan had expected, and he prided himself for it dearly.

A painting, located at the far end of the wall their backs were facing, fell down, moment distracting them for a fleeting moment. As they faced away from the teenage girl, IT appeared behind her. The clown grinned, a wide, disturbing smirk that seemed to portray his horrifying pleasure in torturing his victims, waiting for a few moments before Richie turned back around with a whisk. Richie gasped, immediately reaching out for Bill’s arm. Bill and Stan both turned around, and for a split second nobody moved. Then Pennywise began to cackle closing his hand around Emily’s neck, not quite squeezing yet, but putting enough pressure that the three men reached forward without thinking.

Pennywise stepped backwards, dragging a limp Emily with him. ‘No’, Richie called out straight away, ‘please stop, don’t hurt her,’ He begged. He wanted this fucking clown dead, but if him begging on his knees is what would get his daughter back, then he wouldn’t hesitate.

‘Oh, oh, oh now why would I do that? We’re just getting to know each other, isn’t that right songbird’? Pennywise smirked once again, moving Emily’s head up and down, as if she was just agreeing.

Stan tensed, the nickname being the one he gave Emily, the one he always called her. He had no idea how IT knew all of these things, but one thing was for sure, Stan didn’t want his little girl here any longer than he had too.

IT brushed the hair out of her face, taunting the three losers standing before him. Bill clenched his fist together tightly, fighting against every fiber in his body to reach forward, he knew that he couldn’t make any sudden movements, Emily’s life depended on it.

‘You have us, we’re here, you can let her go now. You have us to feed on, you can take revenge on us, just please let her go’, bill spoke with brittle voice. It seemed like his words had to opposite effect, as instead of letting her go, Pennywise tightened his hand around her throat, going as for as to draw blood.

Stan let out an angry cry, ‘let her go’. Pennywise just shook his hand giggling as he did so.

‘she begged so nicely, clearly she didn’t learn that from her parents. She kept asking me to let her go home, to her papa and dad and pops, but you didn’t show up’.

‘You motherfucker, I’m going to fucking kill you’, Richie screeched, but Stan and Bill could hear how effected he was by IT’s words. All of them were.

‘please just, take us. That’s what you wanted right? To get us here so you could kill us? Well we’re here now, so come on, go ahead and kill us.’ Stan spoke, his voice devoid of any emotion. It was the sound that Stan often made before shutting down, or having an anxiety attack.

‘No, I think I might be a bit hungry’, Pennywise let out with a grating laugh, before opening his mount, showing his row of teeth, and without any second of doubt, he bit a piece of Emily’s neck of.

A guttural scream raced through the room, neither of the lovers knowing which one of them made the sound. Emily’s body dropped down on the floor, her eyes returning to normal, but that just made it worse. The blood was dripping from her neck where a huge gaping wound was staring at the three, her eyes staring lifeless into the eyes of her pops, her limbs a in heap on the floor.

Pennywise disappeared as fast as he had appeared, leaving Stan, Bill and Richie to their grief. Richie leaped forward, as if trying to catch her before she fell to the floor, even though she already landed there. He pulled her into his chest, weeping like he had never done before, not even when Henry Bowers had outed him in front of the whole school, or even when his mother had died. His hands tried to cover her wound, but it was to big and the blood kept pouring out like a faucet was turned on.

Stan had tears in his eyes he was desperately trying to blink away, the knowledge of his songbird being dead not registering in his muddled brain. ‘She’s fine, Rich, stop crying she’s fine’. Stan’s voice gets hysterical, his pitch getting louder and louder. He looks to Bill, big strong Bill, their leader, who will surely have the answer to fix this mess.

Bill however, is sobbing. He screams out and Stan can see the moment his knees are too unstable to keep him up, so he falls down. He sinks to his knees, ‘not again, not again’, he moans out over and over, until even that becomes too much. He places his hand on the floor and places his forehead on the floor, and his mouth open in a silent scream. Stan reaches his hands in Bill’s hair, trying to force his head up from the floor. Stan is still not crying, but inside, it feel life his heart is just ripped out.

Richie shuffles closer, still with Emily in his lap, he’s kissing her forehead over and over again, as If somehow that’s gonna make her come back. Stan reaches out with his other hand and tries to pry Richie's hand away from Emily’s wound, but Richie is not budging, Stan lets his hand rest over his hand anyway.

‘Dad, pops, papa, where the hell are you guys’? A delicate voice calls out. The voice sound sa bit scared, as if the person doesn’t what she’s doing here. Stan, Bill and Richie’s head jump up at the sound. The voice sounds like their daughter, but their daughter is right here, bleeding out as the life has been sucked from her.

Beverly, Ben, Eddie and Mike run in the room their eyes wide and searching, their breathing slowing own just a tat when they see that Bill, Stan and Richie physically alright. Right after they run in, Emily comes running in, her chest slightly heaving. Stan lets out a sob, he doesn’t realize what he’s seeing, just a moment ago he saw Pennywise kill her, but now she’s standing right there, clearly alive. Richie glances back to his arms, but where moments ago Emily’s corpse was lying, there’s nothing. The blood on his hand from her neck wound is not there anymore, and Richie finally pieces the story together. ‘Motherfucker’, he whispers out angrily, pounding his fist on the floor one time, as if to make sure that seeing his daughter alive is reality. His fist stings, but Richie has never felt such a grateful feeling before.

Bill is the first one to move, he jumps up, his arms circling around his daughters small frame, burying his face in her hair. He’s still sobbing, but he ant find any part in him that cares, for he has never been this grateful for something is his life. Stan stands up next, wrapping his arms around both Bill and Emily, placing his hand in her hair to press her even closer to them, and finally Richie moves aswell, standing behind her, his body towering over her as if he can protect her from all the bad in the world with that one movement.

‘oh sweetheart, oh you have no idea how happy we are to see you.’

The other losers look at them in slight distress. They have no idea what the hell happened, but they know that whatever it was, it was truly bad.

‘How, how are you okay? Where were you?’ Stan asks breathlessly while he checks Emily over to make sure she isn’t injured.

‘I thought it was weird that Pennywise would go after Emily right away, she wasn’t scared at all because she didn’t know what was happening, so me and Ben went to the hotel room to make sure she wasn’t just there’. Mike says with a small smile, feeling extremely happy that everyone is fine

‘She was’, Ben added with a small smile.

Stan lets out a deep breath before pressing his lips against Emily’s hair, internally grateful for how she leans into him a little bit.

‘Let’s get her the hell out of this fucking town’, Bill whispers before pulling away slightly, still keeping Emily at arm’s length.

‘Yeah, let’s not traumatize her with showing her the places we fucked when we were teenagers,’ Richie laughs wetly, while wiping away the remaining tears on his face.

‘Dad, gross, I did not want to know that’, Emily cried out, burring her face into her own hands. She’s smiling though, and she keeps smiling until she falls asleep in the car on the way out of Derry, feeling safe in the presence off her fathers.

[leigh-kelly]

Showmance Transcript 6/6/19 Part 3: HEYA

K: Do you remember, I think it was during the pilot. We had lunch one day because we didn’t really have any scenes together. N: Yeah. K: And then my dad told me— N: Yes. K: My dad randomly—my dad was living with me at the time and he says ‘I met this girl who says she just—’ He was a car salesman at the time. ‘and he was selling this young girl a car, she came in with her mother—’ N: Dad. K: ‘And she said she booked a pilot called Glee’ and he was like ‘oh my son’s on that you should talk to her, she seemed very nice, she was beautiful.’ I’m like ‘okay, I’ll find her’ N: I’ll find her. H: And there were all these people. K: And he was like ‘I don’t know, she’s playing some character’ and I think he got the name wrong and I looked for you on the call sheet and I was like— N: Wasn’t there, babe. K: Yeah, yeah. I was like, he’s got it wrong or maybe she made it up like, she may be crazy. J: Yes! K: And then I eventually figured out it was you and then we were at catering one day and I was like ‘hey, I think you met my dad—’ N: Yes. K: Buying a car and then we’ve been best friends ever since. J: Is this when you bought the red Range Rover? N: No. Well, I never actually bought a car from Kevin’s dad. K: No, you wanted a G-wagon. N: Cause he was working in Valencia and I had actually met him before and he was talking to me about how his son was an actor too and he used to be in a group called NLT. K: Oh no. N: And I was like ‘okay, well I’ve met him a few times’ H: What a small world. N: I’ve gone window shopping a lot of times with your dad. K: Yeah. H: How funny. K: I love that. And then we like, sat down and had lunch together. N: Yeah. K: I was like oh, yeah, she’s cool. N: And we owe it all to your dad. K: Yeah, my dad. H: So this is the original showmance here. N: And you were like right around the corner from where your dad used to work, right? K: Yeah, it’s true. Yeah, he worked in a lot of places. N: Hey, dad. K: Isn’t that weird? J: He worked at the one over here by Podcast One. K: He worked over here, he worked at Valencia, he worked in Beverly Hills. J: Oh, Mr. McHale. K: Yeah, that’s right. I forgot about that. N: He keeps it moving. K: Yeah. Yeah. What were your guys’ first impressions of us? N: You know, you guys were, you know, regulars. H: I love how you just said that. N: I mean, regulars. H: No, it’s true. N: We were like, how do we infiltrate and say hello? H: You were like the untouchables for a while, you know what I mean? N: We were like, that’s who has the show. H: How can we get there? N: It’s their show. J: Oh my God! H: We were these characters the whole time, we just sat there like Beevis and Butthead. N: You guys were doing the first time we saw you, you were doing Don’t Stop Believing. K: Yeah. J: Oh, that’s right. N: Like the big number. And so we were like, oh my God, look. H: Yeah, we were kind of outsiders at that point. N: Yeah. H: I feel like. N: And then everybody like came up and introduced themselves and we were like ‘okay.’ H: See, I don’t even remember this. I think I was so excited and so amped at this point, I don’t even remember this day. N: The Don’t Stop Believing day? H: No. N: I do. K: I don’t remember meeting you guys in that setting but I remember shooting that obviously. J: Well that was a really long two days. Um. No, it took two days, and I think we did Don’t Stop seventy-five times. K: Yeah. H: I’m sure you did. J: I am not kidding. H: I’ve worked on a lot of shows lately that are not used to working in musicals and stuff like that and the amount of shoots you do in those productions that don’t understand that is just obscene, like it’s just thousands and thousands of times are you’re like ‘okay, if this was Glee we would be done in like, an hour.’ J, K & N: Yeah, yeah. K: That’s why Don’t Stop Believing took forever, because it was the first thing— N: The first thing. K: Nobody knew how to do it. H: Yeah. And then by season six, everybody—it took an hour to do one shot. N: Now that we’re professionals. K: Like music videos, sure, we can do that in our sleep. N: Yeah, I got it, quick eight count. K: Five, six, seven, eight. J: I met HeMo watching her on Good Day America dancing with Beyonce. I watched her. H: You watched me? J: They were like ‘you’re gonna meet this girl, she’s gonna teach you Single Ladies.’ That’s what I remember. H: Yeah. J: I remember you were really quiet but you were in this cool American Apparel onesie and you were teaching Chris Single Ladies and they were like ‘oh, I think Tina is going to be in this too, we gotta push her.’ I was like ‘goddamnit yes.’ N: So good. K: I remember when Heather showed up— N: Beyonce dancer. J: To teach. K: To teach— H: To teach the group. K: And I was like pissed that I couldn’t learn it. I was like ‘I already know part of it.’ I know some of it, but then I learned that you were like, a real dancer for Beyonce— H: Yeah. K: And I was like, ‘I’m never dancing in front of her ever again.’ I was in the back of the room, like, trying to like follow along. H: That was my favorite part of you, coming in and wanting to learn the dancers and being like, super eager. K: Yeah, cause I mean— J: Yeah, cause he was sitting a long time. H: Right. N: I know, let the boy stand. H: Let the boy stand. K: Wait, do you guys remember when the actual Brittany character was created? When you made it up in the back of the choir room? H: I do, yes. N: When? J: What? H: I remember this. K: You had a version of Brittany— H: Yeah. K: That was like, she was very confident, but just, not the brightest. And you had been doing it for us— H: I was doing it for you guys. K: --between takes. And it was so good and one day Ryan walked in and we’re like— H: Cause, that’s yeah. K: Ryan, I feel like it was Amber or something where somebody made Ryan sit down like ‘you have to watch this.’ N: Yeah. H: When he would come in every once in awhile and he would be like ‘entertain me.’ J: *Imitating Ryan* How’s it going you guys? K: *Imitating Ryan* How’s it going? We’d be like ‘Ryan, you have to watch what she’s doing! She’s hilarious!’ N: Like we were kids. K: He was like ‘oh, lemme see’ and you did it and the very next scene was a scene we were shooting, it was you, Jane and Naya like, doing some Cheerios scene in Jane’s office. H: Uh huh. N: Oh, I remember that one. K: And then the next day you told us he had you, he was like, throwing you lines to do as that character and you became the full fledged— N: He was literally feeding you lines. H: And he was like ‘okay, now do it a little dumber.’ K: And then you became Brittany. N: Brittany S. Pierce. Britney Spears. K: And I like how that’s possible for people. N: Very cool. K: At like, this gigantic, crazy ass machine that it was and an expensive show to put on, you could still have flexibility to— H: Right. J: Right. K: Like, oh, she’s funny, let’s just try this out. H: Right, right, right. K: I guess when you’re Ryan you can get away with doing those things. H: Do anything. I just love how he took from the fans like a lot our storyline specifically. N: Yeah. H: Where he really listened to them and he like, took their love for us loving each other and just made it into something huge. N: I mean, getting married. H: Getting married. N: Being a lesbian. H: Being a lesbian. One of the first lesbian marriages on national television. N: Wow. K: How did you feel, finding out that your characters were lesbians? N: We had no idea, and you know, we just go with the flow. We came back from, like, summer vacation and then Brad just passed me in the hallway and was like ‘yeah, no, by the way, she’s a lesbian now.’ And walked away, I was like— H: Just nonchalantly. J: Was it like, one of those Jacob Ben Israel catchups? Was that how we found out you guys fell in love or something like that over the summer? Remember those recaps. N: There was that phone call thing, right? K: Yes. H: I don’t remember. N: There was like, something about love and if that were true Brittany and I would be dating. H: Yeah, cause I remember the scene where you like, tell me you love me and you’re like ‘yeah, but you don’t say it back’ or something like that, ‘you didn’t say you love me back’ and I was like ‘of course I said I love you.’ N: And they’re like ‘let’s keep writing. Let’s see where this goes.’ J: I don’t remember any of this show, you guys. H: It’s hard, there’s so many moments. N: It’s on Netflix, Jenna. You can watch it now. J: It’s under gay TV. N: No way! J: If you search the category. K: That’s right. H: Oh really? K: My favorite category. N: Stop, that’s the funniest thing. Is it really under gay TV? J: Yes! Go look! N: Awwww. J: I’m gonna send you a video when I get home. H: Netflix! K: How do you search gay TV? How do you find that out? J: I just flip through categories because sometimes I’m like ‘I don’t know what kind of movie I want to watch’ right now, or TV show. So I’ll go through, like, crime, or like for Jenna, or because you watched and then it was like ‘gay TV’ and it was right underneath! H: Gay TV! J: Glee! And I was like ‘yeah, that’s about right.’ K: Yeah! N: That’s hilarious. H: Very well summed up. N: Not even musicals? J: No, they are under musicals too, cause I pass that category. K: It’s all the very niche categories. It’s like, gay, musical, that’s redundant.

[trash-the-tozier]

Dog Days (5/7)

Title: Dog Days

Length: ~36.6k words (6.3k for this part)

Summary: Richie Tozier is twenty years old, over halfway through a Chemistry degree at the University of Maine, and in love with his best friend and roommate, Stanley Uris. And he figures that it’s fine, with no cause for change, until he finds an injured puppy near his apartment.

Warnings: Explicit language, small amounts of smoking/drinking, mentions of animal abuse (the animal stuff is all about the injured puppy, it’s not like… a recurring theme or smthn, it’s a cute fic I promise)

Pairings: Stan/Richie, background Ben/Beverly

A/N: I know it's been forever, but I promise I'm going to post this whole fic. I've just been sick for like a month. Thank you all so much for supporting this story so far, I'm glad you're enjoying it! Extra warning for this chapter: a tiny amount of violence happens (1 punch is thrown) Previous Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 also posted to ao3 here tagging: @80s-kaspbrak, @sunshinestanley, @tiny-tea (hmu if you want to be tagged!)

As Richie often did when he was in disbelief of his own stupidity, he called Beverly. She picked up on the third ring.

“Hey, jackass. What’s up?”

“How much does a hitman cost? You can order those over the dark web or something, right?”

“...Richie. What the fuck?”

“I need someone to take me out. End my existence.”

“Just go back to Derry. I'm sure Bowers would love to finish the job.”

The mention of their old tormentor brought things into perspective, at least a little bit, and Richie sighed.

“What happened?” Beverly asked. “What did you do?”

Richie didn't ask why Beverly had assumed it was himself that fucked something up.

“Do you want the long version, or the short version?” He asked, watching Mira sniff a perimeter around the dumpster.

“Short.” Beverly decided.

“I licked Stan’s face.”

“Richie!”

“There was context! I promise!” Richie regretted not grabbing Mira's leash, having to walk close behind her to keep her hidden behind the apartment building. “It… It made sense, sort of. And then I tried to play it off, but I don't think it went well.” He sighed, reaching up to run a hand through his hair, the action interrupted as he had to bend over and pull a stick out of Mira's mouth instead.

“So what, you took something a little bit too far and now you're panicking?” Beverly asked. “That's what you called me about? Richie, it's fine.”

“No, Bev. You didn't see his face.” The complete shock, the stillness, the wide eyes. Had disgust been there too, or was he just imagining it? “And I have to work a shift with him this evening. Goddamnit.”

“Well…” Beverly had a grin in her voice, but there was also a devious edge to it that Richie recognized. “You could just own it and tell him the truth.”

“The truth?”

“You know. That you want actually want to lick every inch of his naked body.”

“Fuck you.” It was the only thing Richie could think to say, because his face was so red that he couldn't really breathe. He bent to pick Mira up, ready to carry her back up the stairs, and heard a voice in the background of the phone call.

“Um, Beverly? Who are you talking to?”

It was Ben, and he was understandably confused, with only his girlfriend's side of the conversation to listen to. Richie was suddenly put on speaker phone.

“Richie licked Stan.” Beverly reported.

“I… What?”

“It's nothing.” Richie said quickly. “Listen, are you guys free tonight?”

He opened the apartment door and set Mira down, where she rushed into the living room and tackled her rabbit toy, growling and wagging her tail.

“I've got to study for a test.” Ben said after a moment's thought. “I think that's it though.”

“Cool. Could you study over here?”

“Doubtful.”

“I won't be here.”

“Oh. Then yeah, probably. Why?”

“Stan and I both have work tonight, and I just don't want to leave Mira alone. Could you guys watch her for us? Just for a couple of hours.”

“Yeah!” Beverly said quickly. “We'll be right over. Sounds great.”

Richie noticed Ben's lack of agreement, but trusted their relationship enough to accept Beverly's answer for the both of them. After taking a deep breath, Richie called out to Stan, who he assumed was hiding away in his room.

“Ben and Beverly are coming over. They agreed to watch Mira.”

“Okay.” Stan's voice was a little quiet; Richie had to strain slightly to hear it. “You should get ready to go.”

A quick glance at the time told Richie that Stan was right. He changed into his work clothes, hearing Ben and Beverly enter just as he pulled his shirt over his head. He yanked it down as he rushed out to greet them, finding once he arrived that his haste was unnecessary; Stan was already in the living room with them.

“Uh… Hi.” He said dumbly. Silence hung awkwardly in the air, broken quickly by Beverly, who crouched down to coo at Mira. Richie could feel Stan looking at him, but he didn't look back.

“Am I crazy, or is she a ton bigger than she was when I first saw her?” Ben asked.

“She looks bigger than she was two days ago, when I met her.” Beverly said.

“Neither would surprise me.” Stan answered with a sigh. They walked the two of them through the simple matter of her feeding and medication, telling them to let her out every couple of hours because she wasn't house trained yet. They nodded, promising they could do it all, and after Richie made them swear to call him if anything happened, Richie and Stan got in Stan's car and went to work.

It was a short drive, the pizza place close enough for Richie to walk back and forth most of the time. Richie didn't want to chance any awkward silences, turning the radio on, the two of them listening to various commercials nearly the entire way there. Richie wondered if he was overreacting, if the avoidance was making it all worse, but whenever he decided to buck up and say something, he chickened out.

Work wasn't any better. He was able to be loud in front of his coworkers, grinning and cracking jokes that were borderline inappropriate, but Stan moved stiffly around him, and Richie couldn't help but react to him the same way. It was near midnight when their shift ended and it was time to go home, and Richie couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't have ruined everything, he told himself; he'd barely even done anything.

Stan pulled up to the apartment complex and put his car in park. He reached up to take the key from the ignition, but Richie's voice stopped him.

“Do you want me to apologize?”

“...what?” Stan looked over at him, confused by the lack of context, though he seemed a bit tense in the shoulders.

“What?” Richie asked back. “Have I been going crazy all day, or have things been weird?”

Stan was quiet for a moment. “Things have been weird.” He admitted.

“I mean... I just don't get it. I've done worse things than lick you before.”

“Yeah.” Stan gave a small laugh, but there wasn't much humor behind it. “I just wasn't expecting it, I guess.”

“Didn't expect it?” Richie asked. “When I promised that I would do it like five minutes beforehand?”

“I just didn't…” Stan trailed off, reaching up to turn his car off and take the key out of the ignition. The engine died, the air dark and quiet and still. “I didn't expect you to actually lick me.”

Richie would have assumed Stan was talking about the action as a whole, if not for the emphasis. The emphasis on lick. Meaning, if Richie’s smitten-swamped brain was right, Stan had expected something else.

“Would you rather I have kissed you?” He asked before he could stop himself. Stan didn’t answer, his eyes wide, and in a moment of tremendous stupidity Richie leaned over, past the gear shift and the empty cup holders on the center console, and kissed Stan on the lips.

It was short, just long enough to register the touch as something, just long enough to send a jolt of nerves up Richie’s chest, just long enough for him to realize just how incredibly terrible this idea had been. He jumped away, muttering out “there,” and escaping the car as fast as he could manage.

If everything hadn't been ruined before, it was now. But Ben and Beverly were up in the living room and Stan was probably coming up behind him, so he couldn't freak out just yet. He was very close to doing so, but as he opened the door and walked through, the sight he was met with did distract his mind.

His friends were on the couch, completely wrapped around each other. They heard Richie close the door and sprang apart like two teenagers caught doing something very indecent in a very public place.

“Well, hey.” Richie raised his eyebrows at Ben and Beverly's extremely red faces, hearing the door open and close again behind him. Stan. But before he could worry about that, he noticed something else. “Where's my dog?”

The living room and the kitchen were both empty.

“She was here a second ago.” Beverly protested, getting to her feet.

“Ben's hands were in your shirt a second ago.” Richie deadpanned, walking around the couch to get further into the room.

“Okay, a minute ago!” The blush hadn't faded from her face, and Ben hadn't even gotten up. Then they heard a familiar playful growl coming from Richie's room, along with a distinct ripping sound. To Richie's surprise Stan pushed past him, going into Richie's room first. They found Mira tearing into one of Richie's shirts, the piece of clothing all but destroyed. She was having the time of her life, Stan saying a very distinct and commanding “no,” and snatching the shirt up.

“Ignore her.” He told them all. “Not giving attention is the best way for a puppy to realize that she's done something wrong.”

“It's just a shirt, Stan.” Richie protested, because Mira, so excited about them being home, had begun leaping up on their legs and whining loudly, and Richie's self control was crumbling. “I don't mind.”

“Look at it.” Stan tossed the shirt to Richie. The neck hole and sleeves were still attached, but there was a huge hole that would expose a large majority of his chest if worn.

“Hey, it's not so bad.” Richie said. “Hashtag free the nipple, right?”

Stan glanced over at him, began to smile, and then began to laugh.

The shunning of Mira Tozier only lasted ten minutes, but in that time Ben and Beverly said their goodbyes, Richie thanking them for their pet sitting services. Then Stan retrieved Mira's chew toy, a rubbery blue bone, and offered it to her. When she took it in her mouth he praised her and petted her, the puppy flopping onto her back for tummy rubs.

“We need to teach her what she can and can't chew on.” Stan explained. “Some dogs will eat a chunk of their couch or something, and then it'll get stuck in some intestine, and they need surgery to get it taken out. We don't want that.”

“Oh.” Richie said. “Yeah. We don't.” It was hard not to stare at Stan, and Richie had to wonder what was happening. Stan was just sitting on the floor with the puppy, talking like everything was normal.

“I looked into it last night, stuff we might want to teach her.” Stan began, getting up to sit on the couch. He paused halfway through the motion, glancing cautiously at Richie. “I can sit down, right? Beverly and Ben, they weren't…”

He left the rest of the question to insinuation, and Richie laughed.

“It's fine! All clothes were on, and stuff.”

Gingerly, Stan sat. Richie busied himself with Mira on the floor, petting her little body all over as she crawled around his lap.

“Not to chew and bite inhibition seem like the most important ones to me.” Stan continued. “For her to only play with her toys, and not to play too rough. Along with making sure she's housebroken of course, but we're already working on that.”

Richie nodded a bit, feeling at a loss for words. His phone buzzed before he could think of something to say, and he pulled it out of his pocket.

From: Lavagirl I'm sorry Richie We did a good job watching her I SWEAR you just happened to walk in the one time we weren't giving her our complete attention

Richie had to laugh a bit. Stan gave him a curious look.

“What is it?” He asked.

“Oh, Bev’s just apologizing, that's all. As if I haven't seen Ben's tongue before.”

Stan laughed too, getting to his feet.

“I'm going to take a shower. Look around the kitchen for something we can have for dinner, would you? I'm really not in the mood for takeout.”

“Yeah, sure.” Richie watched as Stan walked off, still feeling slightly lost. That… That was it? They were pretending like nothing happened? Richie was relieved, sure, but he couldn't help but feel slightly disappointed, too.

To: Lavagirl It's fine! There aren't any accidents on the rug and she got her food and her meds, and that's all I really care about Though if you ever do get it on in our apartment just tell us what upholstery to wash

From: Lavagirl Oh my god shut up The whole evening was really domestic I promise That was part of the problem actually Ben was being really sweet and talking about a future and buying a house and I just

To: Lavagirl He was talking about mortgage and you got all hot and steamy? Y'all are so weird

From: Lavagirl Speaking of weird, are you alright? Something seemed off.

Nothing slipped past Beverly, apparently. Mira picked up her rabbit toy and ran over to him, Richie wrestling with her as he thought of a way to respond. Finally, he decided that if Stan was going to pretend everything was fine, then so would he.

To: Lavagirl Nah, I'm good. Maybe I just still had my customer service face on or something. Don't worry about me, Bev.

The next day, Richie had to go to class. Though it wasn't his first time being away from Mira, it almost felt that way. Stan sent him a few photos throughout the day of Mira playing or sleeping, one of the pictures even showing a training session, Mira sitting attentively, her eye transfixed on a treat Stan was holding that was just barely in the frame. While adorable, the pictures also made Richie want to go home all the more, and he wondered briefly if this was how parents felt about their children.

That night, curled up in bed with Mira's body splayed across his legs, Richie set up a Craigslist ad for her. He tried to make it as uninteresting as possible, leaving out any pictures and wording everything in a way that was short and to the point. He set the price as 'negotiable’ because truly, he didn't know, and ended up listing Stan’s phone as the number to send inquiries to. He knew that if he got any texts or calls from someone interested in taking Mira away, he wouldn't be able to stand it.

Over the next two weeks, Mira settled into their lives pretty well. Despite everything Richie had read online, she was taking to the training they were giving her. It wasn't really out of a desperation to please though, and more of a desperation for attention, Stan’s shunning method working rather well. Two more of Richie's shirts, along with two and a half pairs of shoes, were sacrificed before Mira's destructive habits were confined to just her toys, though they did still have to reprimand her for mouthing on things every once and awhile. Richie's attempts to get her to play nicer were going more slowly, but once he read up about the method behind it, Mira began getting gentler and gentler with her teeth.

Mira's training attitude seemed rather confined to Richie and Stan though, Stan being the main disciplinary force in the house. Unless they had a treat in hand, Ben and Beverly's attempts to get Mira to do much of anything were pointedly ignored. Richie found it rather funny, and couldn't say it didn't make him feel special. Despite this attitude though, Richie noticed Ben warming up to Mira quite a bit, and that put a smile on his face.

Richie could barely believe how fast Mira was growing. With an increase of size came an increase of everything else, with shedding, energy, and appetite being the ones most noticable. While she tired easily with her leg still on the mend, daily walks became a must. Leaving and re-entering the apartment complex were always stressful moments, Richie murmuring “what dog? I don't have a dog,” to himself like a chant and navigating the stairs as fast as he could. It was always much easier when Stan went with them, acting as lookout during the dog smuggling.

The shedding was what bothered Stan the most. It was a near constant occurrence, and as a result, dust bunnies of dog hair began developing in every corner of every room. Being two college age boys, neither owned a vacuum cleaner.

“It's uncontrollable. Her fur gets everywhere.” Stan complained, a blissfully ignorant Mira asleep in his lap as he sat on the couch. He lifted his hand from where it had been resting next to his thigh, making a face and wiping it on his jeans. “She's drooly, too.”

“She's a dog, Stan.” Richie said, without looking up from his biochemistry homework. “I don't know what you expected.”

Stan took to brushing her every night. At first, the extra attention was cause for excitement, and with Mira running around and nipping at Stan's fingers, the whole operation was incredibly ineffective. But then Stan took to waiting until the evening, when all of Mira's energy had already run its course, and it became a relaxing activity instead. The tension would leave Stan's shoulders as he worked, Mira often even falling asleep halfway through the process. When that happened Stan would stay with her for a little while, petting or cradling her, even once kissing her on the head when he thought Richie wasn't watching. Richie swore he felt his heart explode.

When those two weeks had run their course, April now upon them, it was time to bring Mira back to the animal hospital to get her leg checked up on and her sutures removed. Richie and Stan found a Friday morning when they were both free and scheduled the appointment, bringing her in together. Richie noticed his receptionist friend sitting behind her desk and absolutely beaming at them, and with a sick jolt of fear, realized that she would want to bring up their inside joke again. Except Richie still hadn't told Stan.

“Hey,” Richie said lowly, catching Stan by the jacket sleeve as they walked in. “I have something you need to know.”

“...what?” Stan gave him a quizzical look.

“That receptionist there? The one staring at us? Well…” Richie couldn't think of a good way to say it, so he said it as plainly as he could. “When I came here with Ben, she thought we were dating. You and I, I mean.��

“Okay?”

“And… I didn't correct her.”

“Oh.” Stan was silent for a long moment, Richie waiting for him to get mad, or creeped out, like Ben said he would be. But neither happened. Stan just said “okay,” and walked straight up to the reception desk.

“Okay?” Richie muttered to himself, having no idea what that was supposed to mean, hurrying up behind him.

“Mira Tozier, here for her recheck.” Stan told the receptionist with a smile.

“Oh, of course I know who you are.” She responded, smiling back. “Long time, no see for you!”

“I've been working.”

“Yes, I've heard. The what, backbone of the household?” The receptionist gave Richie a look that meant she was absolutely enjoying herself, but all Richie could manage was a weak smile back. What was happening?

“Well, I wouldn't have to work so much if he picked up extra shifts, like I do.” Stan lied, looking over at Richie with what could only be described as affection, reaching over and mussing up his hair. Richie could feel himself turning beet red, and the receptionist, looking delighted, got from her seat and said she would notify the doctor of their arrival.

“Do you think she bought it?” Stan asked as they went to sit down.

“Bought it?” It took Richie a second to find his voice. “She didn't need to buy anything, I just--”

“Yeah, but did you see how happy she was?” Stan grinned a little, and Richie couldn't help but watch him, feeling hopelessly confused. “I don't mind. Hey, she might even give us a discount or something.”

Dumbfounded, Richie simply nodded. Thankfully, he was able to pull himself out of his surprise by the time the vet technician arrived, and their appointment started. They found out that Mira had grown a full eight pounds since she'd left the hospital, putting her weight in the lower thirties. Her eye had healed up well, the veterinarian delighted by that; the skin had completely sealed, her hair already beginning to grow back. Nothing had disturbed her broken leg either, the bones still all set correctly, being told to return in three weeks time to see if they could take the cast off. All in all, everything was fine. Richie beamed with pride.

“Now that her injuries are healing, it's likely that you'll see an increase in her energy, as she can return to acting like a normal puppy.” The veterinarian told them, and Richie nodded.

“We've definitely seen that.”

“Then it would do no harm to take her on walks. Though, due to her size, it would also be good to begin training her to heel; that is a habit she needs to have by the time she's big enough to pull you off your feet.”

Nodding a bit, Richie thanked them and they were able to go back home. They made it out of the car and halfway up the stairs before a loud voice stopped them.

“Uris! Tozier! What the hell do you think you're doing?”

Richie froze, trying to look innocent, trying to keep the wince off his face as he turned to greet their landlord, a short, balding, and angry-looking man standing at the bottom of the steps.

“Good afternoon!” He tried, passing Mira's leash quickly over to Stan.

“Is that a dog?” Their landlord asked.

“It is! It's not our dog though, Mr…” Richie realized in a moment of wild stupidity that he couldn't remember the man's name. Stan, who hadn't yet turned around, gave Richie a grimace that told him he didn't remember the name either, and when the landlord didn't offer it over, Richie simply had to continue on. “...sir. It's my sister's dog. She asked me to watch her for the night. Just for one night! And I figured, since she's not technically living here, it would be--”

“No!” The man looked hopping mad. “Didn't you read the rent agreement? No pet policy! That means no pets!”

“But--”

“No! You bring that dog down these steps now. You'll have to shack it up somewhere else for the night. I don't care where, but it's not staying here.”

The throbbing vein in the man's temple didn't leave them with much room for argument. Unsure of where else to go, they piled back into Stan's car. Richie suggested the nearest fast food place, and they were off.

They ended up at Sonic, somewhere Richie hadn't been since he was a kid. They got two milkshakes, a double order of fries, and a small vanilla ice cream for Mira, who lapped up the new treat eagerly.

“What do we do?” Stan asked. His eyes caught the midday sun as he looked over at Richie, lighting up in beautiful brown and green and gold. Richie cleared his throat loudly and looked away, popping the lid off his milkshake. He took three fries, dunked them all in the drink, then put them all in his mouth.

“We’ll just go back later.” He said, Stan giving him an expression that very clearly said 'don’t talk with your mouth full’. He swallowed. “That guy probably thinks we're dumb, but not so dumb that we'd try to smuggle the same dog into the same apartment twice in one day. He won't be looking out for us.”

“He will for a couple of hours, though.” Stan took a long drink from his milkshake straw. “What do we do until then? I would say walk Mira for a little while, but I don't really feel comfortable doing that along the side of the road.”

“I think we should sit here, and finish up our fries and milkshakes.” Richie began. The word “walk” had suddenly reminded him of something. “Then go back to the apartment. I have something in the woods I need to show you.”

Stan gave him a critical once-over.

“If this is some joke about your dick or something--”

“No!” Richie felt his face turn pink, though he didn't know why he was embarrassed. Dick jokes were nothing new. “It's actually something. It's kinda serious, really.”

Stan raised an eyebrow, but didn't ask any following questions. He turned back to his milkshake, drinking from it again, and suddenly began to laugh.

“What?” Richie asked him.

“I just…” Stan reached over to get some fries, two of them between his fingers as he looked up at Richie, grinning, an incredulous sort of amusement behind his words. “I just can't believe we couldn't remember our landlord's name.”

That had Richie laughing too.

“I know! I seriously have no idea. Mr… Mr. Calver? Clemson? Something like that?”

“Didn't it start with an 'H’?” Stan asked back, and Richie shrugged.

“Probably. Maybe.”

They gave suggestions back and forth, the quality of the guesses slowly devolving into jokes. Richie's suggestion of “Mr. Bulging Neck-Vein” made Stan spit milkshake all over the table, and they had to ask a server for napkins. Finally though they got to their feet, cleaned up their table, and got back in Stan's car. He parked on the opposite side of their apartment building, and the three of them snuck off into the woods.

“How far is it? Stan asked, and Richie didn't know what to say. He wasn't even sure he was walking in the right direction; he hadn't really been paying attention while talking to Eddie on the phone. After a few minutes of silence, Stan spoke again.

“Can you at least tell me where we're going? Because this kind of feels like the first five minutes of Law and Order, or something. We're either going to get killed, or find a dead body.”

In spite of himself, that made Richie laugh.

“I think I found where Mira came from.” He said. “The day before I found her, I was on a walk, and I came across something that looked a lot like her. Some fuzzy animal in the creek. I couldn't really tell what it was, though. And I didn't try to get too close, because it was already dead. Maybe it had been for a while.”

The mood had sobered up, Stan watching him. Richie shrugged a little.

“I was talking to Eddie the other day, and walking around this area, and… I kinda stumbled upon something. I think it was a puppy mill.”

There was silence as the words sunk in.

“And Mira's a purebred dog, isn't she?” Stan asked quietly. Richie nodded.

“Yeah. Think so.”

Richie saw Stan nod out of the corner of his eye. They walked in silence, and then Richie heard barking. He followed the sound, Stan right behind him, and again, at the sight of the place, Richie's stomach lurched, an uneasy, queasy feeling setting in.

“Shit.” Stan murmured, while Mira's ears perked up at the sight of other dogs. “Richie… Richie, this is…”

“I know. I when I looked it up, it said that puppy mills are technically legal, but Beverly said that the really bad ones could be shut down. I don't know what to do.”

“There's no way this is okay.” Stan said. He pulled his phone from his pocket, typing quickly, pausing at a realization. “If this is where Mira is from, does that mean that whoever runs this place is the person that tried to kill her?”

“I… I don't know.” Richie hadn't considered that before. “Maybe, yeah.”

“We have to shut this place down.” There was a surprisingly vehemence in Stan's voice as he scrolled through web pages, reading quickly. “We should take pictures, look around… Get evidence and stuff.”

Richie nodded, pulling his own phone out.

“Stay here.” He told Stan, holding Mira's leash out to him when he began to protest. “Stay here with Mira. Don't worry; I'll be in and out before you know it.”

Stan frowned, but didn't argue. As quietly as he could, Richie crept forward.

His presence caused an uproar among the dogs. They all began barking as soon as they saw him, and Richie soon gave up on trying to be discreet, instead taking pictures of as many horrible things as he could, and as quickly as possible. With each step things looked worse and worse, and it wasn't long before he was discovered.

“Hey!” A rough shout made him jump. “Who the hell are you? What are you doing on my property?”

Richie spun, met with the sight of a man, long and thin like himself. This man was older, maybe closer to forty, walking with a slight limp. His face was nearly completely covered with a bushy brown mustache and beard, a baseball cap pulled low over his head.

“Oh, you know.” Richie shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant. “A little of this, a little of that.”

“This is private property.” The man growled, walking closer. “I will have you arrested for trespassing, you snot-nosed kid!”

There were dark, rust-colored splotches on the man's tan boots, and whether or not the stains were blood, that's what they looked like. Anger flared in Richie's stomach.

“Not if I get you arrested first.” He said, holding up his phone. “I know some people in law enforcement who would be very interested in what's on my camera roll.”

Richie, of course, didn't know anyone, but the words struck a nerve.

“Give me that!” The man yelled, running in Richie's direction. Richie had to dash to the side to avoid him, turning and jumping back, and in the confusion he didn't know what way to run in order to leave the way he came.

In his disoriented state he didn't have time to dodge the arm that flew in his direction; pain blossomed from Richie's mouth as the man's fist connected with his jaw, feeling what seemed like every one of his teeth puncturing his lower lip. His mouth filled with the taste of copper and he spat out red, gasping. Richie wasn't a stranger to being punched in the face, but it hadn't happened in years, stumbling backwards and keeping his head down. The man grabbed at his arm, his grip closing around the wrist of the hand Richie had holding his phone. He twisted, Richie letting out a shout of pain, dropping his cell phone to the ground. He had enough of his wits about him to kick the phone away when it landed near his foot, and that made the man release him. But Richie knew he was faster, scrambling over, falling to his knees to pick the device up.

With a growl, a mass of brown fur came streaking towards them. Richie managed to grab hold of Mira just before she leapt at the man; he didn't want her to bite him. He didn't want her to bite anyone.

Stan was standing at the edge of the trees, white-faced. Richie struggled to get his legs under him, setting Mira down in favor of holding her leash, and they ran full force in Stan's direction. When Richie reached him he didn't slow down, cutting off the beginning of whatever Stan was trying to say by grabbing his hand, and the three of them made a break for it.

The man hurled curses at them, but didn't give chase. Through all of the adrenaline and fear, Richie felt a strange laugh bubble from his mouth, and it did bubble; his rapid breathing was causing the blood behind his lips to froth and blister.

“Richie.” They were out of the trees by the time Stan found his voice. He had tears stinging his eyes, his breathing labored. “Richie, let go of my hand.”

The request took Richie by surprise so much that he followed immediately, releasing him. He didn’t know how to feel about it, but when he saw Stan’s hand, that worry was gone and replaced by a newer, stronger one. Stan’s palm was ripped with rope burn, doubtlessly from Mira’s leash, and Richie had been holding it, pressing into it.

“I’m so sorry.” He gasped. “I’m sorry, I didn’t--”

Stan just shook the apology off, neither of them speaking again until they were safely inside their apartment. Stan locked the door behind them and Richie sank to his knees, exhausted. Mira was on him instantly, whining and licking at his face, and while the concern was appreciated, it did hurt.

“Richie--” Stan began, about to crouch and help him up, but Richie shook his head.

“No. You go wash your hand off. I’m okay.”

Stan gave him one, long look before going to the kitchen sink. Richie pulled himself to his feet, making it to a kitchen chair before sitting down again.

“Are you okay?” Stan asked, without turning around.

“Yeah.” Richie answered. “I mean, my lip’s a little busted up, but that’s happened before. I’ll live.”

When Stan turned back to him, he was holding a warm washcloth. He approached Richie’s face with it, but when Richie tried to bat him away, Stan grabbed his wrist and forced his arm back down.

“Let me.” He insisted, so Richie did. The washcloth was rough against his swollen, broken skin, but he didn’t say anything. The moment felt too fragile; Richie held his tongue.

When Stan moved away, turning to rinse the bloody washcloth off in the sink, Richie deemed it safe to speak up.

“Is your hand okay? What happened?”

Stan sighed.

“I'll be fine.” He said. “We heard the guy's voice first, and Mira's hackles just instantly went up. I don't know if she remembered him or what, but she didn't like him at all. And then we heard you yell, and there wasn't anything I could do. I didn't expect her to move so fast. I didn't even know she could, honestly, with her leg and everything. I didn't have the handle of the leash around my wrist; I was just holding onto the rope. She ripped it out of my hand.”

“Sorry.”

Stan simply looked at him for a moment, bunching his lips up before straightening them again, as though rolling Richie's apology around in his mouth.

“It's fine.” He said, moving towards the freezer to get ice for Richie's still-swelling lip. “It's not your fault.”

Richie decided to ignore the fact that yeah, it kind of was.

They crowded around Richie's laptop together and tried to find the best way to report what they saw. They ended up finding a form they could submit on the ASPCA website, Stan filling it out while Richie complained about just how cold the ice pack was.

“Of course it's cold. It has ice in it.”

“But what if my mouth goes numb?”

“Then maybe you'll shut up for once.”

“Stan!” He whined, removing the ice from his face. “My lips are freezing! This is your fault. You should warm them up for me.”

If this had been a month ago, Stan would have laughed or rolled his eyes or shoved him off the couch. Now though, Stan went silent and still and Richie regretted saying anything, feeling as though he'd broken their unspoken agreement to not talk about the kiss in the car. Instead of sitting in awkward silence, Richie shifted topics without any ease or eloquence.

“Anyway, I've been meaning to ask you… The Craigslist ad? Has anyone responded to it? I put your name and number for the contact information.”

“Oh, thanks.” Stan said dryly. “I'm so glad that any random person on the internet now has access my phone number. But no, to answer your question. Nobody's called about her.”

“Really?” Richie had been avoiding even thinking about the offer he'd posted to sell Mira away, not wanting to bring it up to Stan for fear that someone wanted to negotiate prices, or something. He'd been a bit surprised that Stan hadn't mentioned it either, but had told himself not to question his luck. A lack of responses explained that, though. He looked over at the puppy in question, who was chasing her tail, becoming confused whenever the tail switched over to her right side and she couldn't see it anymore. She looked hilarious, and Richie's heart ached a little. “Who wouldn't want her?”

“I don't know.” Stan shrugged, returning his eyes to the form on the computer screen. “I mean, it does sort of make sense. She still has a cast on her leg, and we said we would foster her until she was all healed, right?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Stan looked over him, a little grin growing on his face that made Richie's heart skip a beat or two.

“What?” He had to ask.

“You just…” Stan gestured to his injured face. “You look terrible.”

“How dare you?” Richie drew himself up and puffed out his chest, trying to imitate an overly pompous English gentleman. “You're making a mockery, after I so valiantly defended my lady’s honor?”

“Making a mockery?” Stan asked back, raising an amused eyebrow, obviously surprised by the phrase. “And which one of us is your lady? Me or Mira?

“You, obviously.” Richie said, and Stan laughed. “Mira can hold her own, I think.”

[fragilenights]

A Night To Remember

Prom is supposed to be a once in a life time opportunity that you’ll remember forever, but what happens when Eddie can’t seem to enjoy himself because of the distracting attention he is getting from his friend Richie? Eddie thinks he hates Richie for staring at him as Eddie dances among his peers, but his pounding heart begs to differ.

AO3 Link

Ships: Reddie, Benverly, MikexOC

Word Count: 4,103

The Losers’ Club was gathering at the Denbrough house for pictures before the Derry High Prom. Stan was pacing around stressed about his carefully made plans that were seeming to fall apart before his eyes given the fact that one member of the group was almost twenty minutes late. Stan was wearing a traditional black and white tux with a muted yellow tie. Bill was trying to calm Stan down by making sure Mrs. Denbrough was ready to take pictures of the group once they were all in attendance. Bill was dressed in a typical black and white tux too but instead he had an obnoxious turquoise blue tie.

Mike was chatting with Beverly and an awestruck Ben. Ben didn’t have much to say due to the fact that his eyes were met with the beautiful sight of Beverly Marsh. Bev was donned in a long aline navy dress. The dress had a low v neck cut along with a daringly low v cut back. Her navy dress resembled the night sky with the light sparkle and shimmer embedded in the fabric. Her shoulder length auburn hair was pulled up into a bun with slight curls framing her face. She had simple, silver, dangly earrings and a necklace to match. Her makeup complimented her face but also reflected her daring personality. Ben was stood beside her in navy tux, adorned with a black bow tie, and a white shirt underneath. Mike had on a maroon suit jacket, black slacks, a white shirt underneath, and a skinny black tie. Under his arm was his date, Madison, who was dressed in a tight, lace, black dress that emphasized her every curve.

Eddie wasn’t so social that night. He was standing alone staring out the window, awaiting Richie’s arrival. Now Eddie didn’t want to seem too eager to see Richie, but he just couldn’t help himself. Hell, this was one of the only times Richie would spend more than ten minutes on his appearance, and goddamnit Eddie wasn’t going to let that go to waste! Eddie was fidgeting with the sleeves of his gray tux that were just a bit too long for his short figure. He had on a pastel pink bow tie and he left his hair to it’s natural state, slight curls appearing at the ends. Eddie moved his hands from his sleeves to the friendship ring that matched the band upon Richie’s own middle finger. He twirled it around and then glanced down at the cheap metal, a slight smile finding it’s way to his face as he reminisced on when he and Richie got them.

Suddenly Eddie was jarred from his daydream at the sound of the front door opening. In strutted the one and only, Richie Tozier. He raised his arm to push back his windblown curls that had fallen in front of his face. He was wearing an all black suit with a black undershirt, but he had an untied black tie with a pink floral pattern draped around his neck. Richie completed the look with a pair of classic black high top converse. The world seemed to slow down to Eddie as Richie’s eyes rose to meet his own. Coincidently the song, Take My Breath Away by Berlin was playing on the radio in the background. The song’s volume seemed to amplify as Eddie’s jaw dropped at the sight in front of him. Richie offered a cheeky grin to a very flustered Eddie. Eddie snapped out of his trance and quickly reached to grab his inhaler from his jacket pocket. Richie approached Eddie and wrapped his arm around his neck, putting the smaller boy into a loose headlock. A sigh of relief could be heard from Stan when Bill muttered “Fucking finally,” under his breath.

“Hey! Look who finally decided to bless us with his presence,” shouted Mike, once his attention was directed towards the entry way.

“Damn look at you, hot stuff!” Bev playfully exclaimed. Ben blushed slightly, but he knew that his date was loyal to his heart. Richie winked at Bev for this comment and shimmied the untied tie around his neck.

“Come on, I always look this hot. Tell her, Eds!” Richie teased. The rest of the group chuckled at the comment while a bashful Eddie awkwardly laughed along. Richie was lovingly glancing down at his friend still under his arm. Eddie playfully tried to swat at Richie’s chest, but Richie grabbed Eddie’s hand before he could make contact. Richie gave Eddie’s hand a slight squeeze before releasing it and removing his arm from Eddie’s shoulders.

“Now I just have to figure out how to tie this damn tie,” Richie said as he walked backwards towards the bathroom. Eddie slowly followed Richie and quietly offered to help.

“R-rich, if you need any help I ca-”

Richie put his hands to his heart in an exaggerated motion and exclaimed, “Oh my dearest Spaghetti, would you ever be so kind to help a poor fellow like me with such a daunting task?” Richie squinted up his eyes in what looked like a failed attempt to be seductive.

Eddie rolled his eyes as he moved to stand in front of Richie in the small bathroom. Eddie closed the door behind the two, because he told himself that it would allow for more room in the small bathroom. Not because he wanted a private moment with Richie, of course not. Eddie made quick work at starting the tie while Richie rambled on about his activities for the night. But Eddie wasn’t paying much attention to the words spewing out of the boy’s mouth because Eddie couldn’t seem to hear anything over the pounding of his own heart. Eddie had to focus solely on keeping his hands from shaking as he stood so close to his curly haired friend.

Suddenly Eddie realized that the small room had become quiet, so he glanced up to see what had caused the silence. He was greeted with his friend’s eyes staring down at him. Richie smirked once he made eye contact with the smaller boy, and Eddie’s eyes darted back down to the tie as heat rushed to his face.

“Ya know I was going to say something about how I wished I could’ve taken your mom as my date, but I don’t think I need her when I have a cutie like you around,” Richie said with a slight smile upon his face.

“Oh shut up, Rich,” Eddie said as he tightened the tie around Richie’s neck.

Richie’s tone went scarily serious as he said, “no seriously, Eds. You look really nice.”

“Thanks. I’m surprised a trashmouth like yourself could clean up so well,” Eddie teased as he patted Richie’s chest slightly. Eddie finally raised his head to meet Richie’s eyes, but the smirk fell from Eddie’s face as he saw the lovestruck gaze on Richie’s face.

Richie parted his lips as if he was about to speak, but he quickly silenced himself as he felt Eddie’s hand that had been resting on his chest move to grab the tie around his neck. Eddie slowly and gently pulled Richie down by his tie as he raised to stand on his tip toes. Eddie’s eyes began to flutter shut as their faces neared each other until the door to the bathroom flew open.

“Hey guys, can you hur-oh!” Bill’s sudden presence in the room caused Eddie and Richie to fly apart from each other.

“S-s-sorry, um I was just, uh..” Bill managed to stutter out as he lowered his eyes from the two boys and brought his hand to his neck. A slight pink color appeared on Bill’s cheeks as he realized he probably saw something that wasn’t meant for his eyes. “W-w-we need to um..t-take pictures soon…”

Richie stood for a second in pure bewilderment at the situation unfolding in front of him. Eddie stood a few steps away from Richie, his head hung to hide his scarlet cheeks. Suddenly Richie awoke from his trance and put a wide smile across his face. Richie pranced over to Bill and wrapped his arm around the smaller boy’s shoulders, guiding him from the bathroom doorway.

“No worries, Big Bill! Let’s go take those pictures, so you’ll mom will have something to admire this handsome face.”

Eddie slowly followed after his friends, still awestruck from his actions. What was he thinking? What did his brain expect to come from that? How far would he have gone if Bill wouldn’t have interrupted? Did Richie love the idea just as much as Eddie did?

The group gathered in the Denbrough living room to take pictures. At first Eddie tried to keep distance from Richie, for the fear that Richie was creeped out about Eddie’s intentions in the bathroom. But as the photos progressed Richie yanked Eddie towards him and held the smaller boy in his arms. Eddie giggled when Richie insisted they pose in the stereotypical prom date pose along side Ben with Bev and Mike with Madison. Eddie squirmed in Richie’s arms, so Richie moved his hands from Eddie waist to Eddie’s cheeks and squished them together like a mother would do to her baby.

“Stop it, Rich!” Eddie chucked and tried to swat away Richie’s hand. Richie once again grabbed Eddie’s hand and held it with his own.

This had become a thing, Richie grabbing Eddie’s hand. He didn’t know how he felt about the action, but he did know it made his stomach flip. Not to mention the increase in how often Richie would sneak into Eddie’s window and spend the night. Or how Richie insisted the two cuddle. Eddie didn’t know why all of this was happening, but he also didn’t complain. Richie stood behind Eddie with his arms draped around the boy’s shoulders. Richie continued to intertwine his fingers with Eddie’s until Bev yanked him away to pose together.

Once the pictures were taken the group separated into Bill’s and Stan’s cars. Bev called shotgun with Bill and raced to his car, being followed by an anxious Ben. Eddie followed Stan to his car, knowing that Stan would be making it home sober. Richie followed after Eddies and groaned at the driver that he chose.

“Ugh come on, Eds! Do we have to go with Staniel?” Richie whined like a child.  

“You know you don’t have to follow Eddie around like a lost puppy? You can make your own decisions, Richie,” Stan said with a bit more attitude than was particularly necessary. Richie offered an awkward laugh along side a furrowed brow in response to the comment. In the car Eddie decided to sit shotgun as Richie third wheeled in the back with Mike and Madison. For the first five minutes of the drive Richie found himself with his arms crossed, moping about the previous comment from Stan.

This was until Eddie moved to turn up the volume on the car radio. Richie immediately recognized the song as one of the many songs he had shown Eddie during their weekly sleepovers. The song was “Friday I’m In Love” by The Cure, and Richie couldn’t help but smile as the smaller boy bobbed his head along to the beat of the song. This was one of the songs that the two would dance around in their socks to, sliding on the wooden floors of Eddie’s bedroom. Richie would always embarrass himself just so he could see the grin spread across Eddie’s face.

The same grin appeared in front of his eyes as Eddie whipped his head around when the chorus of the song picked up. When the two boys made eye contact they simultaneously started belting the lyrics to the chorus, earning an irritated shout from their driver. Stan quickly reached to turn off the radio, but Eddie stopped him before he could while trying to stifle his laughs.

Madison was giggling next to Richie as Mike shook his head in shame. The girl spoke up after the laughter had died down a bit.

“You two are really cute together by the way,” All of the noise in the car came to a halt after these words left her lips. Stan had to stifle down a laugh as he stared straight ahead at the road in front of him. Both of the boys in question began to stutter some kind of explanation that they were, in fact, not a couple. Mike quietly whispered something serious into his date’s ear, to reassure her that she wasn’t the first to make that mistake.

For a matter of fact, there had been a lot of people who had thought the same exact thing. Ben had once accidentally brought up the topic when the Losers’ Club was having a movie night. It was responded with the fearful, feisty actions of an anxious Eddie, and the first time in years Richie had ever been speechless.

Bev had also had a few not so sober conversations with Richie over the summer when they got high at the park. When Richie was under an influence he lost whatever small filter he had and seemingly always had something to say about how pretty Eddie’s eyes were. The night ended with Richie softly crying to Bev about how he didn’t want to be in love with his best friend because he didn’t want to ruin what he had with him. Bev had tried to reason with the poor boy, but Richie was certain that Eddie could never feel the same way towards him.

Ever since then, the relationship between the two boys went unspoken. Everyone knew that the two were closer than friends should be, but no one dared to make sure the boys knew that.

The sound of pounding music came flooding from the school gym as the seven teens approached the admittance desks at the entrance. Eddie’s eyes anxiously inspected the crowds that surrounded him. He could hear his heart hammering in his chest as his thoughts were filled with all that the night possibly had in store. He jumped in respond to a reassuring hand being placed on his shoulder, but he was put to ease when he met eyes with the hand’s owner, Richie. A small  comforting smile danced upon and lips and was returned by Eddie. As Eddie stood among his talkative friends, not really listening to what was being discussed, he began to question why he even went to prom in the first place. He wasn’t one to typically go to parties, he was a total stick in the mud, and he began to realize how uncomfortable he was by the entire idea. He knew that Beverly and Ben would be fawning over each other all night long, and the same was bound to happen between Mike and his date. Richie and Bill were likely going to quickly wander off and find some girls to flirt very poorly with. That would leave him and Stan. Now Eddie did love Stan, but awkwardly standing around with Stan wasn’t the most ideal way to spend the night. What would the two boys even talk about? One could only talk about how annoying Richie was for so long. In Eddie’s opinion, the night was bound to end in failure.

He was dragged from his thoughts as he realized he was next in line to hand his ticket to the lady at the desk. She allowed for his admittance, and Eddie’s heartbeat raced even fast, if that was evenly humanly possible.

Bev excitedly raced to the dance floor, dragging Ben along behind her. Noticing his nerves, Richie quickly wrapped his arm around Eddie’s shoulders and led him through the doorway.

Their typical drab gymnasium had every inch covered in some sort of decoration. White and Gold balloons decorated the far wall, streamers and lights hung from the ceiling. A make shift photo booth was set up in the corner, punch and snacks were lining the opposite wall, tables were cluttered in a different corner of the gym, and a medium sized crowd had already flooded the dance floor in the middle. “Waterfalls” by TLC was filling the room and Eddie spied Richie jokingly shimming to the music, which caused a small roar of laughter from Bill and Madison. Eddie chuckled and rolled his eyes at the lame actions. Richie caught Eddie’s judgmental look and raised his eyebrow at him with a smirk. Eddie’s eyes widened in fear as Richie grabbed his hands and pulled him flush to his body and backed them towards the dance floor.

Eddie unsuccessfully tried to squirm from Richie’s grip, but was faced with Richie’s hands moving to his hips, guiding him to dance. Eddie resisted the actions and tried his best to remain stationary. Sadly, he let his guard down as he laughed at Richie’s poor attempt to rap along to the song. The sound of Eddie's laugh broad a wide smile to Richie's face and a twinkle to his eyes. With the sudden relax of muscle, Richie took his chance and shook Eddie’s body a bit to force him to move. Eddie laughed but decided it was better to comply, knowing that Richie wouldn’t be giving up anytime soon.

The two boys awkwardly danced around as best as two high school nerds could, but to the two of them nothing else mattered. They were probably making fools of themselves, but they were having fun and that was all that mattered.

Eddie thought that he was going to have a horrible time but instead he spent a good fifteen minutes enjoying himself on the dance floor, until he couldn't ignore the gnawing in the back of his head anymore. After the first song, Eddie had been pulled away from Richie to dance with Bill and Mike, which he openly accepted. Since then, Eddie had felt Richie's eyes burning two holes into the back of Eddie's head. Eddie kept trying to steal glances over at Richie to make sure he wasn't just imagining things, but every time he was met by Richie's longing stare.

Eddie had had it with Richie's blatant staring, so he decided to stare right back. When Richie finally noticed he had been caught his expression slowly turned into a nervous smirk. Eddie was just going to glare at the boy and leave him alone until Richie's expression changed yet again. Eddie slowly looked up to meet Richie's eyes and he was met with that look. That look frequently came upon Richie's face whenever they were alone together. If Eddie laughed or giggled about something, Richie would have the look. If Eddie sat contently for once in his anxiety ridden life, Richie would have the look. Eddie had never been able to tangibly place the emotion Richie felt that led him to have that look, but he always seemed to run from it. But suddenly, in the stuffy, sweaty gym, Eddie began to truly understand what that look meant, and he had never felt more conflicted in his life. His heart began to hammer in his chest and his palms began to sweat. He suddenly realized he couldn't breathe, so he quickly reached for his inhaler and ran out of the gym to the nearby empty hallway.

Eddie could hear Richie calling after him as he darted through the crowds, and he began to curse him in his head.

Why the hell did Richie have to screw everything up?

Why couldn't Richie just keep it in his pants for a once?

Why did Richie have to be so fucking attractive?

And why in the world did Eddie have to be in love with him?

Eddie wasn't surprised when Richie's body came flying through the door and Richie fractically flug himself onto Eddie.

"Are you okay, Eds? Are you having an asthma attack? What happened?"

Eddie simply responded by using his inhaler and turning away from the other boy. Richie furrowed his brow as he realized that something else was going on.

"Hey-" Richie softly said as he reached out to grab Eddie's elbow. But Eddie acted as if he was burned by Richie's touch and yanked his arm away. Eddie's anger always seemed to get the best of him, but it was easier to push people away sometimes instead of directly dealing with his own emotions. Eddie closed his eyes and sighed as he felt Richie entire being almost shrink from the pain he felt from Eddie's rejection.

Eddie quickly turned around and began to apologize, but he was interrupted by the song in the gymnasium changing.

Their ears suddenly filled with the familiar sound of an 80's synthesizer and a guitar. The song was "True" by Spandau Ballet, a classic 80's love song. This song also had a deeper meaning to the two boys, which they both seemed to recognize as they slowly smirked to each other. When Richie and Eddie were just kids they used to listen to music through Maggie Tozier's record player and stupidly sing along, but this song always seemed so calming to the two young children. It was a song that began to represent their friendship and bring them a feeling of belonging.

When the vocals in the song slowly came in, Richie lowered his head once again to gaze upon Eddie, searching through his eyes to make sure he didn't fuck everything up.

"May I have this dance?" Richie said in his English Voice, along with a bow. Eddie giggled and curtsied back, suddenly forgetting all of his anger from the dork in front of him.

Eddie took Richie's extended hand and place them around his own waist. Eddie reached his hands up to link around Richie's neck and slightly delve into the hair at the nape of his neck. Eddie's cheeks quickly filled with a rosy blush, and Richie's pupils were the size of saucers.

The two slowly swayed in place, and while the dance wasn't anything too spectacular to an observer, to them it was a monumental moment in their relationship. They spent the entire song in silence while they searched each other's faces for any false readings of the situation. Both boys were terrified that their feelings were unrequited, and they cared too much about each other to ruin their friendship.

As the song slowly approached its ending, Eddie noticed that Richie's eyes had become fixated with Eddie's lips. Eddie heard the voice in his head tell him to "run away from that dirty boy," but he pushed the thoughts away and whispered, "Fuck it," before lifting himself to his toes and meeting the taller boys lips with his own.

Even though Richie had been daydreaming about kissing Eddie for years now, he was in no way, shape, or form prepared for what was happening. Richie had had his own flings in his high school career, but no kiss ever came close to the feeling he had when his lips met Eddie's.

Their first kiss together wasn't perfect by any means, but it had it's own magic hidden away in its peculiar nature. The kiss was at first a bit to aggressive on Eddie's end, due to the impulsivity of his actions, and Richie had just stood there for a second in complete shock. Quickly Richie caught on to what was happening and eagerly kissed Eddie back. Eddie chuckled against Richie's mouth due to Richie's hungry nature, yet that didn't stop him. Richie reached up to run his hand through Eddie's hair, and he pulled Eddie's body flush against his own, not being able to get close enough.

The kiss was sweet. It was sweet and youthful and better than either of them could have ever imagined. They eventually had to pull away to breathe, but they didn't move far as Richie rested his forehead upon Eddie's. Eddie watched as Richie closed his eyes and took a deep breath with the biggest smile on his face. Richie could taste Eddie's strawberry chapstick on his lips, and he was having a hard time believing he wasn't dreaming.

Richie slowly opened one of his eyes with a sideways smirk, peeking down at the smaller boy cartoonishly, and whispered, "Pinch me, Eds," which earned a laugh from Eddie in return. Eddie threw his head back with the laugh, but Richie kept his strong grip on Eddie's hips, making sure they stayed close.

"You're such a dork, Rich," Eddie said with smiling eyes. He settled his left hand around the back of Richie's neck once again, slowly playing with his curls, as his other hand reached up to cup Richie's cheek. "But, you're my dork."

[anotherfiveyears]

23: Stairway to Heaven

Dave climbed out of Jimmy's Camaro and looked up at the massive church. It was the one all his friends got married in, the one he tried to convince Jen to have their own wedding in... he wasn't religious, but he liked the large stained glass windows and how elaborate and grand it felt. It reminded him of home and had a way of making things feel official.

Jimmy nudged his arm and he looked over, almost laughing at his friend's ill-fitting suit, the same one he wore to everyone's wedding as he raided the open bar. "You ready?" he asked.

"Sure," Dave nodded, though he wasn't sure who was getting hitched. At that point in his life, there were several weddings each year. Par for the course when one hits their late twenties, early thirties.

They walked in the church's large front doors and were met with a large group of their friends, all milling about in the hallway quietly talking amongst themselves. He noticed several of Anna's friends as well and began to look over people's heads to find her, spying Amy against the wall with a withering glare fixed directly upon him.

He frowned at her and turned back to Jimmy, "Where's Anna?"

"In here," Jimmy steered him into the sanctuary which was eerily silent compared to the hallway.

Flowers lined the aisle and the altar, surrounding a white casket and a large picture of Anna smiling happily. Dave felt his heart stop and his legs buckle. This was supposed to be a wedding... someone was supposed to be getting married, Jimmy obviously took him into the wrong church. He went to turn back to the hallway, but Amy and her accusing stare shut the massive wooden doors in his face.

"Dude, come on," Jimmy urged, pulling on his suit sleeve.

Thick dread filled his chest the closer he got to the open casket. Anna's parents were in the first pew, leaning into each other and shaking with sobs. The sight of her father, one of the most affable and happiest men he'd ever known, overcome with grief was unnerving and terrifying. Dave hesitated, but Jimmy dragged him on until they were staring down at her.

Her casket was lined with soft pink satin and she lay peacefully atop a white pillow wearing the black velvet dress from New Years. Her hair was still wet, her skin had a touch of blue to it and Dave wondered why no one had taken the time to at least let her hair dry.

"It wasn't your fault, man," Jimmy said through his tears. "You were tired and just fell asleep. It could have happened to any of us."

Wait... what happened? Had he fallen asleep and...? Ben had told him to keep an eye on her... What the fuck was going on? He reached into the casket to take her hand but was startled when she spoke.

"David..." Anna's eyes were open, no longer the deep green he remembered but a foggy white. She reached for him, the bracelet he had given her sparkling in the light from the stained glass windows. "David?"

His eyes sprung open and fell on Anna as she lay motionless beside him.

Fuck. He stared at her in terror for what seemed like an eternity when her chest finally rose and fell. She cried out when he yanked her across the bed towards him, waking her from her deep sleep.

"David! What the hell?!"

He responded by kissing her, all at once relieved and thankful that she was alive and not caring that he had completely pissed her off by waking her up. Her anger was apparently shortlived as she pulled his arm until his body covered hers. It had been almost a year since they were together in the back of his car but it felt like they had never been apart. They laughed as he helped her pull her shirt off, both of them well aware that they were in Jimmy's bed and she was wearing his clothes. Then in the next moment, his forehead was pressed against hers as he sunk into her.

"You aren't wearing your ring," she breathed, meeting his eyes as they fell into a rhythm.

He only shook his head, knowing that's the only answer she needed. The divorce was finalized just before Christmas and while he was relieved, he was also a little sad. Nothing quite like the gift of getting the fuck out of someone else's life during the holidays. Desperate to clear his head of those thoughts, he skimmed his hand down her leg so he could throw it over his hip and suddenly remembered her ankle. "Explain your tattoo."

Anna's eyes darted up to his, "Now?"

"Yes, now." He knew it would drive him insane if she didn't tell him.

She smiled up at him and arched her back, encouraging him to keep going. "It's a ball of yarn and some drumsticks, kitten."

Yarn... kitten... drumsticks. "Oh."

"Yeah, oh."

"Anna-"

"Can we please talk about this later?" she stared up at him with pleading eyes as her legs began to tremble.

He relented, pushing the nagging questions to the back of his mind and focused on her, how her body responded to his and his to hers. They might have only been together a handful of times, but each time was more intense and ardent than the previous. He would whisper that he loved her and she would respond without words, kissing him deeply or dragging her nails down his back. This time however, he couldn't stop saying it. Maybe it was because this was the first time they weren't cheating on someone or because that dream had startled some sense into him, but he allowed the idea that he did love her to dwell at the front of his thoughts. He pushed her to the edge and watched her fall apart, kissing her when he was sure the entire house could hear her.

He silently moved his lips against hers, telling her one more time, "I love you, Anna."

"I love you, too, David."

He wasn't prepared for it and his mind reeled over her words while the rest of him shattered above her. She followed his example, kissing him to quiet his swearing until she collapsed back into the pillow.  

"Well, that's one way to cure a hangover," she sighed, staring up at the ceiling. "What the hell brought that on?"

"Fuck," he gasped, out of breath, "I dreamt you were dead."

"Still get those nightmares, huh?" she reached over and ran her fingers through his hair.

"Yeah," he swallowed hard. "Yeah, I guess."

"You wanna talk about it?"

"Not really," he pulled her to his chest when she scooted closer to him, trying to shake the memory of her lying dead in a metal box. "Here, put this on before Jimmy shows up."  He leaned over and grabbed his discarded shirt from the nightstand and handed it to her.

"Thanks for babysitting me last night, kitten. Sorry if I was a disaster."

"Better me than him," he muttered. The vision of her in a casket was replaced with her lying dead in a snowy ditch and he let out a shaky breath, rolling quickly out of the bed.

"Yeah..." she sighed and sat up against the wall. "Sorry about that, too."

They eyed each other warily for a moment, neither of them knowing what to say when Jimmy barged into the room.

"Holy shit!" he yelled and dove across the bed to Anna, "You're alive!"

She laughed a little and hugged him back, giving Dave a concerned glance as he fled the room. "Was there some notion that I wasn't?" he heard her ask as he ran down the steps.

He had to get away to think. Being with her in bed would only lead to more sex and conversations with topics that never seemed to be fully resolved. Stepping over several people passed out on the living room floor, he could smell the coffee in the kitchen and wondered if Jimmy had even slept. Pouring a cup of jet black coffee, he stood in front of the kitchen window and watched the snow fall softly in the backyard. He thought about asking Anna to come to LA with him. She could quit her job and they could find a place in Beverly Hills or Malibu or where ever she wanted, as long as she was with him.

He had just finished his cup when Anna pulled herself onto the counter next to him and poured herself some coffee. "Jimmy's being really clingy... What the hell I do last night?"

He turned away from the window and leaned against the counter opposite her, taking in that she was wearing his shirt so early in the morning and little else. "You passed out and scared the hell out of us."

"It was just a little nap, David," she laughed softly and took a sip of her coffee, staring out into the snow while he glared at her.

"It wasn't just a nap, Anna. Your hot shot boyfriend slipped you a goddamn roofie," he wasn't lying, necessarily, just expanding on the truth to ensure she didn't go back to that clown.

Her eyes darted to his over her cup and she shrugged, seemingly unaffected by the news. "He didn't slip me anything."

He took a sharp breath to explain in detail what exactly a roofie was because she obviously didn't know when her cheeks turned a suspicious color of pink. "Are you fucking kidding me right now?" What the fuck?

"We were having a good time!" she insisted, "There was champagne, then someone had a bag of pills and I just wanted to know what it would feel like."

She couldn't have known, but she had just given him the exact excuse Kurt had used in Rome. "You could have died, Anna!"

"Oh, please," she scoffed and slid off the counter. "Now Mr. Rock Star is giving me the 'Just Say No' talk? How about the time you crashed my parent's anniversary party so far gone on acid that my dad had to talk you down from the roof?"

"That's different and you know it," he almost laughed at the memory of her father trying to coax him down with a raw steak, but he was too pissed off at her.

"Not sure how, but okay," she said flippantly and began to walk away.

"Goddamnit, Anna," he snapped, grabbing her arm and roughly spinning her around.

"No-," she shoved him off and backed up a few steps, anger written all over her face. "You can't just storm into my life like this anymore. I'm not your toy that you can pick up and play with when your fancy fucking rock star life bores you, Dave. I'm sorry if you think I led you on this morning, but it was clearly a mistake."

He stood stunned as she ran up the steps and slammed Jimmy's bedroom door, waking several of the sleeping party goers to greet their hangovers. Moments later she appeared again, wearing Jimmy's sweatshirt and some pajama pants, avoiding his stare as she stomped through the kitchen.

"Anna..., come on," he pleaded. This wasn't how he wanted this morning to go, at all. He watched her slam the front door behind her, then met Jimmy's stare as he stood on the stairs.

"You two back to your old routine, huh?"

Dave hung his head in defeat. The same old routine. See you in a few years, Annie.

[ghoststs]

Reddie First Kiss

The color of the sky outside of Richie’s bedroom window was a hazy orange, the color of watered down soda at a cheap diner. Staring out at it calmed Eddie’s nerves as he sat on the edge of the bed waiting for the other boy to come back from the kitchen with the snacks he had promised. Eddie couldn’t quite understand why he was so nervous, he was 16 for Pete’s sake and had been in Richie’s room too many times to count.

And yet here he was staring into the sheets of Richie’s unmade bed halfway between wanting to take a puff from his inhaler to get over what a mess it was and wanting to bury his head in the covers just to get a hint of the soapy smell of Richie's hair. Dizzy with indecision and the plaid of the pillow cover Eddie heard Richie’s voice shout from the hall and felt his heart rise up in his throat, he pushed it down quick almost wishing he didn't have to.

“Okay I will!…No they’ll be over later!…No!…NO. MOM NO WE’RE PARTNERS…It’s a project!…They’ll ring the bell!…Thanks mom!”

The door slammed open and Eddie mentally slapped himself to get back into character, the mild-mannered best friend working on a history project; stressed out, distant, and occasionally conversational. Also very secretly in what Bill called ‘love' but Eddie wouldn’t believe that for a second. In love with the Trashmouth? Give me a break—

“What’s cookin’ good lookin’?” Richie said walking into the room carrying a box of cookies under one arm and two glasses of milk in his hands. He pushed his glasses up on his nose with his wrist and smiled that goofy crooked smile that made Eddie’s heart sing.

Holy fuck.

Eddie cleared his throat and pulled his eyes back to his notebook where he noticed a old doodle on the bottom corner of the page of his and Richie’s initials inside an arrow-impaled heart. The book was closed and thrown in his bag to be burned at a later date.

“Well you were the one in the kitchen,” Eddie said ignoring how close Richie decided to collapse next to him. It took everything he had to keep from moving the strand of hair that was stuck to the side of his glasses. “I thought you were bringing saltines.”

“Yea I thought about it and then I remembered that saltines are for losers, Eds. This stuff is the real deal.” He said handing him a glass of milk, Eddie rested it on the side table next to him. “Besides, I love you.”

The world spun out of control as Eddie fell off the bed onto the hardwood floor. Gripping his inhaler he took a swing panting only half aware that Richie was trying to hoist him back on the bed.

“Jesus Eddie, are you okay?” Richie exclaimed sitting the smaller boy down next to him. His eyes were non-comical, edging with concern, Eddie felt a bead of sweat run down his forehead. This was possibly the worst feeling in the world.

“Sorry, I just—I fell.”

“No shit Sherlock,” Richie chuckled giving his shoulder a tight squeeze, he turned a got a cookie from the box and handed it over. “Here, chocolate is great for this kind of light headedness stuff.”

“Thanks,” Eddie said, his nerves jumped when he touched the tip of his fingers. “What did you say before?”

“That the brand is new?” Richie answered confused, Eddie sighed almost happy and sad at the same time turning back to his textbook. Eddie had been acting real strange lately, Richie hoped it wasn’t because of him. Jeez was it slipping out that he liked him? He hoped to god not, he’d been trying so desperately to keep it under wraps but then he’d say shit like ‘what’s cookin’ good lookin’’ and want to shoot himself. Way to keep it on the DL Trashmouth, way to go.

Richie decided to keep things as undramatic as possible taking the other textbook in his lap and highlighting short paragraphs. Being absolutely silent was preferable to confessing his annoyingly prevalent crush, his motormouth was not to be trusted. After a while Eddie couldn’t take it anymore, he looked up from his own book and risked a glance over to Richie who was leaning against the pale blue wall behind the bed, eyes on his book stuffing cookies into his face on occasion. He looked so peaceful, his chest rose slightly with each breath and he twiddled his highlighter around his fingers like a drumstick, Eddie wanted to scream. He slammed his book shut and stood from the bed.

Richie jumped slightly and tried not to focus on how adorable Eddie looked with his arms crossed against his chest, eyebrows furrowed in intense concentration and more on why he was so goddamn upset all of a sudden.

“Hit your head, Eds?” Richie chuckled nervously, going back to his highlighting. Perhaps if he pretended nothing was wrong, then nothing would be wrong. Of course that approach was massively unsuccessful when he tried to block out his feelings in the first place but hey, second time’s the charm. Eddie reached out and grabbed the book from his hands throwing it onto the nightstand.

“Don’t call me Eds,” Eddie said cheeks burning at the nickname that he secretly adored. “You’re being weird, Richie.”

“Weird? Eds, you had a fucking asthma attack when I brought up cookies!”

“Stop calling me that!”

“I’m sorry it’s a habit!”

“SEE YOU APOLOGIZED! THAT’S WEIRD!”

“IT’S NOT WEIRD IT’S CONSIDERATE!”

“STOP SHOUTING UP THERE!” Richie’s mom called from downstairs, they remained dead quiet until the mutterings of the afternoon soap opera continued on the television.

“Eddie you’re giving me a heart attack what’s wrong with you?” Richie whispered violently.

“What’s wrong with me?” Eddie threw his head back laughing. “Rich you just said the word ‘considerate’ with absolutely no joke attached who are you?”

“Richie!”

“No! You’re so nice all the time these days’s I don’t understand you’ve just changed.”

“Well you keep tripping over your words whenever we hang out Eddie—”

“I know,” Eddie hissed. “I can’t help it, I’m a social disaster.” “We’re both different if anything and I have no idea why I’m so nice to you but I can’t stop it’s awful I hate it.”

Eddie looked to the ceiling and sighed before he heard Richie laugh from the bed. He was trying to contain himself and failing horribly causing Eddie to start laughing despite their situation.

“What is it?” Eddie managed through his smile, Richie only laughed harder. “Rich what the fuck man this is a very serious thing.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he said calming down slightly. “When you put the book down on the nightstand some of the milk splashed up and it landed on your pants and it looks like you peed yourself a little.”

Looking down Eddie saw that that it could be a common misconception that his bladder had given way a little and besides everything, started to laugh again. Richie leaned over to the nightstand and handed him a tissue. Wiping it only caused it to spread to an even more sizable spot.

“It’s gigantic now,” Eddie complained unconsciously before he noticed what he’d said.

“Hey that's exactly what your mom said last night,” Richie said, Eddie looked up from the stain and smiled back at him.

“There you are,” he said happy to see his Richie finally sitting on the bed, a faint blush spreading over his cheeks.

“Just sit down with me it’ll dry itself off, you look like an idiot standing up there,” Richie assured him. Eddie sat crosslegged facing the other boy, the box of cookies between them.

“I’m sorry I’ve been so nice to you,” Richie said turning a cookie over in his hands. “I’d like to be an asshole again but, I don’t know it’s stupid.”

“What’s stupid?” Eddie asked taking a bite, the cookies were incredible.

“I’ll be myself around everyone else and then I’ll get to you and I’ll just feel the need to take care of you Eds-Eddie. I know you’re not a weakling but you’re my best friend and this is going to sound weird but I almost feel like I want you to be more than that sometimes. It scares the hell out of me. Do you see what I’m saying? Please tell me you see what I’m saying—“

Eddie leaned over the cookies and wrapped Richie in a hug which was immediately returned. They stayed like that in the quiet holding onto each other as if the world depended on it for the next few minutes and that almost felt like everything that needed to be said.

“I was talking to Bill yesterday and he told me I’m in love,” Eddie said over Richie’s shoulder, Richie blinked.

“Heavy stuff,” Richie croaked, Eddie stifled a giggle.

“Yea I know.” They broke away and sat down again. “But he was in love with Beverly so I guess he knows a thing or two. All I’m saying is that every time I see you I just get so overwhelmed, my heart does this weird fluttery thing and at first I thought I was dying.”

“Oh shit me too, fuck Eds are we dying?” Richie asked concerned. Eddie shook his head smiling. How did he live before meeting this boy?

“No, no, apparently that’s what you feel when you love someone. And if you’re with that person then the fluttering stops eventually and you’re just calm for once and happy.”

Richie felt hope swell in his chest for the first time in months as he watched Eddie’s hand float over his own on top of the box of cookies. Could this be it, was he in love with Eddie and the stress weighing down on his shoulders could finally disappear? Richie bent his fingers and rested Eddie’s hand in his own giving it a squeeze.

“Now I think Bill is mostly crazy, and I don’t think I love you. But I do like you kind of a lot, more than anyone I’ve met in the world, that must mean something.”

“Ugh goddamnit,” Eddie sighed looking at Richie’s face disappointed. Richie blinked.

“What ‘ugh goddamnit’? We’re having a fucking moment here Eds.” Eddie laughed.

“No it’s just you have cookie crumbs all over your face,” Eddie said picking out a tissue from the table.

“Shit, where?”

“Just close your eyes it’s all over your face I’ll get it.”

Richie obeyed without argument, he wouldn’t have the first real moment he was having with Eddie Kaspbrak be ruined by some sort of mess on his face. Then suddenly he felt a gentle pressure on his lips that didn't feel at all like a tissue. Opening his eyes he saw Eddie’s face closer than he had ever imagined a person’s face could be.

Holy shit we’re kissing, this is a kiss what the shit?

He moved the cookie box aside and shifted himself closer closing his eyes again as he found that it was actually easier to kiss that way. Eddie pulled himself away to see if he’d gone too far with this whole kiss thing only to see Richie smiling wider than he had ever seen before.

Richie held the sides of Eddie’s face gently and went in again, this time in a way where their noses weren’t squashed together. After a few minutes of trying different things they pulled and leaned against each other and the pale blue wall, breathing a bit heavier than before.

"That was fantastic,” Richie laughed lightly. He didn’t think he’d ever been so happy in his life.

“Oh my gosh you wouldn’t believe it, that's exactly what your mom said last night,” Eddie said. Richie looked over amazed at the unbelievably smug boy sitting next to him and rested his head on his shoulder.

“Yea I take it back I love you," Richie said, Eddie kissed the top of his head.

“I love you too.”

[loversand-losers1]

Benverly ship - candy

Oh my god,, this was such a hard ficcc I couldn’t think of what to doooo. I literally have 6 different drafts with them each going in different ways— hope is doesn’t suck to bad— hope you enjoy! _____________

That was one of the first things they had in common. They loved jolly ranchers. Bev had suffered one to many cavities because of them and Ben knew that he didn’t need the extra sugar in his bloodstream.

He reminisced on the days when he couldn’t kiss her or hold her hand.

Ben had resigned to watching Beverly from afar. He had accepted that they would never be together. She was beautiful; her long auburn hair, her kind, wise eyes . The way her lips curled up around her perfect white teeth (the same teeth she revealed had been attacked by the cavities, but as far as Ben was concerned,they were still perfect.) So when she had actually come to talk to him, he forgot how to move his jaw and his mouth got dry. It should’ve have been that big of a deal, either; she had just asked him if he was willing to scoot his bike over so she could wheel hers through. He had complied, but had almost fallen on his face.

The next time they spoke, it has been because she had asked him for a pencil. He had dug into his bag, his fingers brushing over his giant bag of Jolly Ranchers. He handed her the long yellow pencil but reached back in and pulled out a small handful of the brightly colored wrapped candy. He winced when he realized there were only a few left in the bag.

“Do you want one?” He mouthed to her. She had given him a small smile of gratitude, but she shook her head nonetheless. “Can I take a rain check?” She mouthed back jokingly. Ben chuckled in response, hating how hot his cheeks were getting.

The next time they had spoken was in the drug store. Ben had agreed to go with Eddie when he went to refill his inhaler. Eddie had been waiting for his meds by the counter. Ben had wandered off, promising to meet him in a few minutes.

He wandered into the candy isle, his mind lighting up at the sight of the fun colors and ostentatious wrappers. He instantly regretted going down the isle, because walking in on the other side was none other than Beverly Marsh. He looked down, feeling his cheeks heat up. God, he hated himself. Why couldn’t he just say hi like a normal person? He sighed, spotting the Jolly Ranchers. He walked slowly, wishing that he had stayed with Eddie. God. He wished he could just ask her out. Or not even ask her out, just have a normal conversation with her. He’d love to be her friend, if anything else. He was so wrapped up in his thoughts and the thought that he had to actually get to the candies that he didn’t realize that Beverly Marsh was walking towards him.

Towards the Jolly Ranchers, rather. He didn’t even notice that she had put the last bag of Jolly Ranchers under her arm and proceeded to walk to the checkout line. He stared at where she had just been standing.

His brain didn’t comprehend that his body had moved, but it was and before he knew it, his legs had taken him to the spot in line right behind Beverly Marsh. He hadn’t expected for her to turn around and speak to him.

“Hey! Ben, right?” She flashed him a smile. He was temporarily blinded.

“Yep. Yep, that’s me,” he fidgeted with his hands uncomfortably. “So… um. Can I like-“ he gestured his hand foreword and she raised an eyebrow questioningly.

“You want to get in front of me?” He shook his head “You want to check out first? I don’t mind if your in a rush. I have no place to be—?”

“No,” he cut her off “I came here with my friend because he needs his meds refilled and because I ran out of those,” he pointed to the bag of candy in her hand “I need to buy more”

Bev smirked and Ben swallowed a think lump of saliva. God, she was beautiful.

“Sorry, Man,” she shrugged in fake sympathy, a smile still decorating her face. Truth be told; he didn’t even want the candy that much. Had it not been Beverly Marsh who sauntered away from the isle, he would have shrugged and made his way back to Eddie.

But it was her. And goddamnit, he was going to talk to her even if it killed him.

“Yeah, that’s gonna have to be a no. Instead of wasting your time here, there’s literally another corner store you could go to. I’m sure this pack isn’t the last. Lots of other fish in the sea, right?” With that she winked, and the cashier called her up to ring up her candy and, ironically, a toothbrush. She was so cute. Bens mind began to wonder as he sped up to find Eddie.

The next time they came in contact was through a series of letters, if you will. Ben had written on a piece of paper and twisted it around two Jolly Ranchers (from the corner store Bev suggested him go to). He pressed himself up against the wall, doing his best not to be seen. He watched as she opened her locker, slipped her binder inside and pulled out the package he’d left her.

Her long red hair fell around her face as she opened the package. He could see her face widening with a smile as he pulled out the cherry candies. Those were her favorite.

She then proceeded to unfold the paper; this is what really made Bens heart rush. This was the moment of truth. After reading this poem, she would know that he liked her and his life would inevitably be ruined because who would want to date him.

Your hair is winter fire. January Embers My heart burns there too

He watched as her smile grew bigger than he thought was possible. She tucked a lock of her thick hair behind her ear and stuck one of the red candies in her mouth.

Ben felt his heart picking up speed in his chest- he may more may not die of happiness right then and there.

The next time they spoke was in the second letter. This time Ben received it. Taped to it was two grape candies and the note said:

‘Meet me at the Barrens after school? xoxo’

What did ‘xoxo’ mean? Did she like him? Was she making fun of him? Oh my god. she was beautiful. He was going to die. His heart was going to explode and he was going to die right in the middle of the fucking hallway.

And he was jittery for the rest of the day. He couldn’t sit still. He couldn’t focus and he was counting down every minute until 3:00. It couldn’t come fast enough. And when it did come, he hopped up so quickly that it knocked over his desk and he had to set it back up before dashing as fast as he could to the Barrens.

When he got there, Bev was already there. She had on faded blue jeans and an airy yellow shirt. “I’m so fucked,” Ben muttered over and over in his head. She stood up and walked over to him

“Hey, Ben.” She grinned, he gave her a shy smile back.

After the wall of ice had been melted it eased out between the two of them. They walked and they casually talked about anything and everything. The time went by so fast and Ben wasn’t ready to leave, but at the same time, he’d rather get Bev Home safe than risk anything.

“We should head home. The sun is setting. I want you to be in before dark,” he said, trying to sound as manly as he could.

Bev rolled her eyes so hard he thought they were going to fall out of her mouth, but she smiled nevertheless.

But before they could stand up, Bev turned to Ben, facing him completely. “January embers?” She asked him.

Ben felt his heart speed up for the millionth time.

She reached into her pocket, pulling out another note written on cardrock with a piece of candy attached.

My heart burns there too

It read, he detached the piece of candy, studying the interesting swirl patterns that were inside the sugar.

It was red; her favorite flavor. And it was grape; his favorite flavor. It was swirled together in a perfect unexpected blend.

Somethings are meant to be.

[twilightttv-a]

are there any plots that you really want to write, but haven't had the chance to?

Oh jeez there’s so much so I’ll do it by muse

Aaron

Ronnie dating a villain

More!! Conflicting relationships with Peters!!

Lowkey wanna find someone who’d b up for rping his actual brother Peter and not alt dimension Pete

The one where he meets a Pete from a alt verse spider fam where Ronnie died on a mission when he was young and that Peter has a lot of guilt abt it god the ANGST

Harry Osborn

Avengers???? He’d have a heart attack if they knew who he was instead of thinking he’s Peter

Superhero friends. Partners in crime fighting??

Andy

Ghost Andy haunting someone

Ghostie trying to take over Andy’s life and it’s just Very Off as he tries to keep up this ruse

FWB

God I want him to interact with more Chris’

Sam and Andy track time

More shit with Chris, Andy and Josh as kids

Post game Andy’s fucking mental destruction

God I talked abt this with others but the left behind Au. Andy, Emily and Josh were left behind when the helicopter came. It’s so sad I love it

Also?? I can’t remember who I talked to abt this but au where Josh didn’t make Chris choose between him and Ashley but him and Andy because Holy Shit Chris has to choose to kill one of his closest friends that’s so fucked up and it will absolutely break Andy

Bryce

Superhero friends

Classmates!!!!

FliNGS

Cir

More of her American Gods and Umbrella Academy verses i love them so much

More adult Cir shenanigans let her fall in love oh my god

Cir! Being! A! Big! Brother!!!!!! She’s the worst influence

More mother figures in her life she needs them

Cir dealing with superheroes they still scare her shitless

Zombie Cir because she’s absolutely tragic

Mal

Be in his class. Go to the villain academy

Victim shit he’s such an asshole

Him killing someone and vice versa

Get a key from him to the timeless mall

Nilo

I just haven’t rped with him at all lmao

Rickey

Horror! Dads!! HORROR DADS!!!!!

Zombie verse with any sort of zombie apoc muse

Give him a BOYFRIEND HE DESERVES LOVE

Addams family adopt him

Him as an adult and either working as a teacher or mortician

Scooby doo muses!!

THE MAGNUS ARCHIVES OH MY GOD HES PERFECT THERE

Roxanne

Give her more female friends

A maternal / big sister figure for girls (boys are also welcome but she’s focused on supporting young women)

Let her be VANYAS FRIEND

She wants to DOM MEN IN BED and goddamnit she WILL put a collar on him

Be in a show with her

Her superhero verse oh my god she’s so powerful

Partnerships? Partnerships

TJ

American gods verse I love Dryad TJ

More her with the other losers

TJ 👏 dates 👏 Beverly

She comes out to Richie cause they have queer solidarity

CAMPING

Trevor

Villain partners

Recognize him from his times as a hero and he Hates It

Tyrus

FAMILY FAMILY GIVE HIM A CHILD

Found family is so good let him adopt some kids

More relationships

New crews. Better crews

Let him be a ravanger and meet Peter Quill (let them kiss)

[richiesmashmouthtozier]

BITE ME!

CHPT. 2/??

read: 1 | 2 | 3

A/N: HELLO! i’m really happy to announce that I finally have the courage to put a fic out there. this is my first fic so go easy on me please! There’s a lot more action in this chapter, I promise! it’s still a little short but i just need to set everything up!

mentions: big thanks to </@edsrich for reading the first version of this chapter (i rewrote it lol) and just generally showing interest and being nice:) p>

also a little mention to @tobzier for showing interest, you may not think you’ve done anything but you actually encouraged me by showing that you liked my idea so thanks:)

description: The losers are only 15 when Derry changes forever. The scars from It are barely faded when the newest threat hits the small town, Zombies. Most adults start getting infected one-by-one leaving many kids to fend for themselves, including the losers club. When Beverly is attacked and bitten by her father she can’t help but think she’s a danger to the club, there’s no escaping yourself.

Pairings: reddie, stenbrough, benverly

!!!!!!TRIGGER WARNINGS!!!!!!!!: description of gore and lots of it (it’s a zombie apocalypse), a lot of angst

And without further ado,

Enjoy :)))))

“BILL?” beverly screamed running through the house, “BILL?”

“Bev what’s wrong?” Ben ran from the kitchen to check on her.

“I-I need- Where’s Bill?”

“I think he’s upstairs with Stan, but you can talk to me if you need something,”

“Ben, they’re here,”

his eyes went wide and he looked around the house, “shit,”

Bev ran up the stairs as fast as she could avoiding the broken step that had a hole in it and threw herself at the door to the second room, pushing it open.

“Bill! We have a big fucking problem!” she said with tears welling up,

“Buh-bev? Wuh- wuh- what’s going o-on?” he sat up from laying down next to stan. Stan slowly sat up confused and fixed the wrinkles in his shirt.

“They’re here Bill! We- we need to do something!” she held back the tears,

“Goddamnit!” Stan said under his breath.

“Fu-fu-fuck!” they jumped off the bed and Bill ran into the closet. He scrambled to find the weapons while Stan stood with Beverly, hugging her and reassuring her as they did when he got attacked. Bill grabbed a few fence sticks from the neibolt house (where they thought the zombies were coming from but were disappointed) and a threw an old gun to Stan.

“Buh- bev! di- did you see Eh- eh- eddie yet?”

“Bill I don’t think this is the time!”

“Bev you need to disinfect it as much as you can, seeing Eddie is the best thing you can do for yourself-“ Stan worked to talk sense into her,

“No! I need to help you guys! after we get rid of this wave I’ll see him!” she was running out the door but Stan stood in front of her,

“Beverly! You need to see Eddie!”

“I need to help you guys!”

“Buh- buh- bev, please!” Bill stuttered out while Beverly was trying to get past them.

“Bill! Just let me do this!” she yelled. Bill frowned, he was conflicted on what to do,

“Oh- Oh- okay.”

“Bill are you-“ Stan started unsure on what Big Bill thought was right,

“Just thi- this wuh-wuh- wave,” Bill handed Bev a fence pole and they all walked downstairs. In the kitchen Mike was reloading the sheep gun and putting amo in his sash and Ben was anxiously standing next to him.

“Where’s Eddie?” Mike said sounding concerned.

“He-he wasn’t uh-uh-upstairs,” Bill said looking down hallways for him.

“Well shit!” Stan yelled, voice cracking in the middle. Bill handed Ben a stick even though he wasn’t skilled using it, that’s all they had. They all ran out to the porch with Beverly in front of them all. They walked out to see the tarp’s opening was flying in the wind.

Richie was beating as many zombies as he could with a metal baseball bat while yelling and spitting curse words. He seemed to be protecting Eddie who was crouched down pouring large amounts of alcohol on the zombies path.

“This better fucking work!-agh shit!-” Richie said while knocking heads off corpses.

“Stop talking! I saw this on a show I watched with you, asshole!” Eddie said, “Oh thank god!” he saw the rest of the gang running to the pair of boys.

“What the fuck are you doing Eddie!” Bev said while stabbing a zombie in the eye that was about to eat the small boy.

“Just trust me, assholes!” he said.

Mike shot zombies and reloaded faster than lightning. Bill and Stan stood back to back with Stan shooting through zombies heads and Bill swinging at any zombie that came near them. When they got closer to Eddie, then the small boy handed Stan his gun. Stan always had a good eye which came in handy for birdwatching and using two guns as well as he used one. Ben was fully motivated on protecting his friends (and crush), by barely using the stick, but using stones he found from the yard. His aim was way better than people gave him credit for. Bev was crazy out there, she was yelling and swinging and stabbing like a psycho.

“OKAY OKAY EVERYONE STAND BACK!” Eddie said, from the tone of his voice everyone could tell he was serious. Bill, Bev and Richie used their weapons to keep the zombies away in the front.

“Richie! where’s your lighter!”

“I don’t think it’s the time for a smoke, Eds!”

“Don’t call me that! just throw it to me!”

“Haystack! Cover me!” Richie and Ben switched places giving richie time to get his lighter out of the old, leather jacket’s front pocket. He tossed it to Eddie and it he tried to catch it but it landed in the grass causing him to scramble to grab and get it going.

“C’mon! C’mon!” Eddie wasn’t experienced with lighters,

“Huh-huh-hurry it uh-up!” Bill yelled from the front where blood was splattered everywhere.

“That doesn’t help!- haha! yes!” he finally got a small flame, “Everyone out of my way!” he ran in between Bill and Bev. He knelt down. the flame grazed the wet grass and followed its path painted in alcohol.

“Holy fucking shit, Eds,” Richie said out of breath.

They all stood there with a large bonfire. they were all tired, covered in blood, and mentally scarred, but that wasn’t the first, and it sure as hell wasn’t the last.

“I’ll grab the hose,” Stan said as he walked to the other side of the house leaving the losers to watch the fire.

“Wuh-wuh-wuh- wait, Stan,” everyone looked to Bill in confusion, “I-I think th-there’s marshmeh-meh-mellows in the ki-kitchen,”

“Big Bill,” Richie put an arm around him and said in a deep, businessman voice, “I like your style,”

Stan wasn’t as excited as everyone else and just stood, off to the side when he noticed something about Beverly. She was swaying back and forth, visibly tired, and she was clutching her stomach and holding her face. She felt sicker than ever and her head was pounding. Her legs were seconds from giving out until,

“Uh, Bev?” Stan said motioning towards her.

“I-I don’t- I don’t feel too hot…” Mike walked up to her and one freckled arm wrapped around him for support.

“Please- Take me- me to the bed…” her breaths were sharps and short.

“Richie! help me with this,” Mike said as Richie ran to her other side, “We’ll take her to the master bedroom,”

“Bev are you gonna be okay?” Ben worried and fidgeted with his hands.

“I’ll be- I’ll be fine…” she slouched even more due to the horrific feeling in her stomach. The last thing she saw was Ben taking his big coat that reminded her of Sherlock Holmes then everything turned dark.

A/N: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!!! It really means a lot to me!!! Okay anyways I hope you liked this chapter I wish i could’ve made more happen but that’s for the next chapter and I’m still new to this so cut me some slack please:)))) Anyways I’m planning on doing a little Bonus Chapter about what happens at the zombie bonfire!!!!!!! I’m in the middle of the next chapter but you might have to wait a wee bit! Send me an off anon ask to be on the tag list!

Next Chapter Preview: “Bev, what the fucking hell?” Richie quickly finished the stairs and came to the girls side, “You look like complete shit!”

“Richie…” she said at a whisper, “I- I need food…”

“This is all because you’re fucking hungry?” he said surprised as she used his arm as a support beam, “What type of dreams are you having to make you this goddamn hungry?”

“Shut up…” her stomach felt like it was being stabbed and it made weird bubble noises.

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"These are dark times, there is no denying. Our world has prehaps faced no greater threat than it does today. But I say this to our citizens. We, ever your servants..." Chris D'Avicola, leader of the Vendetta, gave a speech on live television. "...Will continue to defend you liberty and repel the forces that seek to take it from you. Your ministry remains strong." Just then, I heard the phone ring. I picked it up, and it was Neil. "Mae, someone betrayed us." Later, we are in the basement of the safehouse. We gather around as two people wearing bags on their heads are held captive. "Flesh and blood first." He takes off both the bags of the people's faces to reveal none other than Germ Warton. Germ? "Neil, what are you doing? Untie me. Let me go. Let me go." Neil looked at him. "You were supposed to protect me. You were supposed to help me." "Goddamnit, I'm trying to help you. You know you can always trust me, Neil." He didn't believe him. "I know what you've been up to. You were trying to lock me up in the loony bin, traitor." "Please, I was just concerned. You, We can talk about this. It's not too late. Look at what you're doing. This is not a healthy path. Neil kicked him in the gut. "I've been chosen, Germ! People are counting on me to lead! To light up this cesspool and usher in a new beginning! Germ shed a little tear. He was being bested by him. "N-Neil, listen to me. All I want is to see you succeed. No matter what happens, you are my brother and I love you. I-I love you." I have to stop him... I stared at Germ as he began to spit blood. "Do you remember when you taught me about pinky-power? Yes. It was our own private world. And when we were locked together didn't matter what we did. All would be forgiven if you just told the truth." No, he deserves death... Soon, Neil began to hold his pinky-finger. " That's right." He gets his knife from the pocket. 'We never lied to each other." He cuts Germ's finger, but it, and spat it on his face. Germ fell on the floor trying to stop the bleeding. Neil then grabs a katana from the drawer and stabs him in the brain. "Get him out of my sight." Two guards pick up his body and throw it into the disposal. He then turns to a black woman. "What the fuck is going on? "Beverly Hope. I had such plans for you and you pissed it all away." She looked furious. "Why? What are you talking about? What did I do? Samuels deserved a lot better than a cheap bullet to the head." "Bea told me everything." Wait, what did Bea tell him? Beverly looked down. "Pack of lies. Bitch is full of shit." Bea then punched her in the face "He chose you, Beverly! He trusted you! He made you his equal! Why did you betray us?!" "YOU! ALL! BETRAYED! ME! One day you promise me equal partnership, the next you have me in a gulag baking fucking cookies! Your promises mean shit! You're fake. All of you. You don't stand for a goddamn thing." Bea punches her again. "We're standing up for millions of people who are finally being heard! Everything we do is in service to the greater purpose! It's bigger than anything in our lives and you are fucking it up!" "Nothing is bigger than your ego. You don't know what the fuck you're doing from one minute to the next. You're incompetent, you bastards. Just another group of attention whores. And if you're insecure enough to believe her, well, then, just kill me now. Put me out of my misery. Because the biggest mistake I ever made was believing in you. TURD." Neil looks at her in disappointment. "You were my favorite. But death is too good for you. I want you to suffer. Take her to the isolation chamber." "Rot in hell, you son of a bitch." Neil then brings his attention to us. "Loyalty must be absolute. Without it, we have nothing. Now we can move forward." After a meeting Bea and I went outside to the balcony. I tapped her shoulder. "What did you tell him?" Bea then sat down on a chair and said, "I explained to him that Samuels was unsatisfied with women, and that he needed a man. The two had sex, and Samuels continued to insist to Winter that he's wasn't gay, "it's much more complex than that." Then shit went down as Beverly threw the gruel in his lap and unbuckled his belt. Sams tried to rape her. She took his gun, and held it on him. She said she will not declare himself 'a turd', as Valerie Solanas would have had him say. Then, like a pin drop, BANG, shot him through the head." I felt startled. "You thought that was fucked up, you should've seen the things he had in the hallway. He was a supremacist." I began to look down. "Bea, I know in my heart, you are my sister and a friend, but I am afraid of your insanity." Bea asked why, and I said. "I had a dream about you. There were demons coming from your body, and they ripped you apart. It meant your schizophrenia." Bea's eyes were widened. "Oh, Mae. I know this is happening, but I can control them. Don't worry." She's right. She knows I'm there to protect her. I will do my best, even if it means dying or facing prison-time. "Holy god!" Neil turned to one of the guards. "What?" "The Vendetta has declared war on us, divine one. They want us to meet at the stadium!" This is where the war begins.

[ask-the-swapfell-crew]

the entire script of fear and loathing in las vegas but Raoul duke was replaced with SF!papyrus

BLACK SCREEN

A desert wind moans sadly.  From somewhere within the wind comes the tinkly, syrupy-sweet sounds of the Lennon Sisters singing "My Favorite Things." A series of sepia images of anti-war protests from the mid-sixties appear one after another on the screen.

In the violently scrawled style of Ralph Steadman, the title FEAR AND LOATHING IN LAS VEGAS splashes onto the screen.  A beat, and then it runs down and off revealing:

TITLE: "He who makes a beast of himself       Gets rid of the pain       Of being a man."       Dr. Johnson

The VOICE OF Papyrus E. Gaster-- a.k.a. SF!Papyrus:

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            We were somewhere around Barstow on            the edge of the desert when the            drugs began to take hold.

AAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!!!

A red Chevy convertible -- THE RED SHARK -- wipes the black screen.

EXT. ON THE ROAD TO LAS VEGAS - DAY

AAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!!!

THE RED SHARK races down the desert highway at a hundred miles an hour.  THE STONES' "Sympathy For the Devil" blares.

AT THE WHEEL

STRANGELY STILL AND TENSE, Papyrus DRIVES -- SKELETAL, BEER IN HAND -- STARES STRAIGHT AHEAD.

BESIDE HIM, FACE TURNED TO THE SUN, EYES CLOSED BEHIND WRAPAROUND SPANISH SUNGLASSES, IS HIS SWARTHY AND UNNERVINGLY UNPREDICTABLE ATTORNEY, DR. GONZO.

The music pounds SF!papyrus stares straight ahead.  GONZO froths up a can of beer - uses it as shaving foam.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            I remember saying something like:            "I feel a bit lightheaded.  Maybe            you should drive..."

GONZO starts shaving.

                                                           2.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            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...

Close on SF!papyrus -- shadows flutter across his face.  The reflections of bats swirl within his eyes.  We push in close to one eye ball -- SCREECHING SWIRLING BAT-LIKE SHAPES!

AAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!!!

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            ... and a voice was screaming: Holy            Jesus!  What are these goddamn            animals?

CUT TO WIDE SHOT OF CAR -

SF!papyrus, eyes rigid, flails at the air.  No bats anywhere. GONZO casually looks over...

                        GONZO            What are you yelling about?

DUCK SCREECHES to the side of the road.  The sudden wrench makes GONZO nick his face with his razor.

                        SF!papyrus            Never mind.  It's your turn to drive.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            No point mentioning these bats.  I            thought.  The poor bastard will see            them soon enough.

SF!papyrus hops out of the car, keeping an eye out for bats, frantically opens the trunk to reveal what looks like A MOBILE POLICE NARCOTICS LAB.  SF!papyrus desperately rifles through the impressive stash.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            We had two bags of grass, seventy-            five pellets of mescaline, five            sheets of high powered blotter            acid, a salt shaker half full of            cocaine, 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.

                                                           3.

SF!papyrus, eyes darting madly as he hears what sounds like the SHRIEKS OF BATS returning, grabs an assortment along with another six-pack of beer - slams the trunk shut and dives back into the car.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            Not that we needed all that for the            trip, but once you get locked into            a serious drug collection, the            tendency is to push it as far as            you can.

THE RED SHARK RACES INTO THE DISTANCE... on the ground, weakly flapping is a SEMI-SQUASHED, SLOWLY DYING ANIMAL... A BAT?

EXT. FURTHER DOWN THE ROAD TO LAS VEGAS - DAY

IN THE RED SHARK

GONZO grips the wheel - stares maniacally down the road - a lousy driver.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            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.

The radio news wars with "SYMPATHY FOR THE DEVIL" on a tape recorder.

                        RADIO NEWS            An overdose of heroin was listed as            the official cause of death for            pretty 19 year old Diane Hanby            whose body was found stuffed in a            refrigerator last week...

GONZO changes the station - "ONE TOKE OVER THE LINE, SWEET JESUS, ONE TOKE OVER THE LINE" vies with "SYMPATHY"... He sings along - washes a couple of pills back with a new beer. The RED SHARK fishtails.

                        GONZO            "One toke over the line, sweet            Jesus."

                                                           4.

                        SF!papyrus                   (muttering to himself)            One toke.  You poor fool.  Wait            till you see those goddamn bats.

UP AHEAD - AT THE SIDE OF THE DESERTED ROAD

A LONE HITCHHIKER spots them, jumps up and sticks out a thumb.  The RED SHARK roars past.  Then, fifty yards down the road...

                        GONZO            Let's give that boy a lift.

GONZO wrenches the wheel - THE RED SHARK swerves to the side of the road.

                        SF!papyrus            We can't stop here - this is bat            country!

GONZO JAMS THE CAR INTO REVERSE AND ROCKETS BACKWARDS.  The HITCHHIKER races to the car.  A poor OKIE KID with a big grin.

                        HITCHHIKER            Hot damn!  I never rode in a            convertible before!

Then the big grin freezes on the OKIE KID's face at the sight of: SF!papyrus and GONZO looking out at him with HYPER- NORMAL, shit-eating SMILES.

                        SF!papyrus            Is that right?  Well, I guess            you're about ready, eh?

The HITCHHIKER hesitates.

                        GONZO            We're your friends.  We're not like            the others.

                        SF!papyrus                   (hissing sharply)            No more of that talk or I'll put            the leeches on you.

SF!papyrus turns back to the HITCHHIKER - smiles reassuringly.

EXT. EVEN FURTHER DOWN THE ROAD TO LAS VEGAS - DAY

The HITCHHIKER sits nervously in the back seat as the RED SHARK screams down the road.

                                                           5.

GONZO sings along to the tape player.

The HITCHHIKER's eyes go to the door - considers jumping out and taking his chances.

SF!papyrus, sweating bullets, STARES AT THE HITCHHIKER in the rear view mirror.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            How long could we maintain, I            wondered.  How long before 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.

The HITCHHIKER's eyes notice a thin line of blood trickling down GONZO's neck.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            Would he make that grim connection            when my attorney starts screaming            about bats and huge manta rays            coming down on the car?

SF!papyrus's mouth moves intermittently - sometimes in sync with the words, sometimes not.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            If so - well, we'll just have to            cut his head off and bury him            somewhere.  Because 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...

                        SF!papyrus                   (out loud to himself)            Jesus!  Did I say that?

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            Or just think it?  Was I talking?            Did they hear me?

                        GONZO                   (reassuringly to HITCHHIKER)            It's okay.  He's admiring the shape            of your skull.

SF!papyrus gives the HITCHHIKER a FINE BIG GRIN and the HITCHHIKER giggles nervously.

                                                           6.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            Maybe I better have a chat with            this boy I thought.  Perhaps if I            explain things, he'll rest easy...

                        SF!papyrus                   (roaring over the                   road noise)            THERE'S ONE THING YOU SHOULD            PROBABLY UNDERSTAND --

The HITCHHIKER stares at him, not blinking.

                        SF!papyrus                   (yells)            CAN YOU HEAR ME?

The HITCHHIKER nods -- giggles -- terrified.  SF!papyrus climbs into the back seat.

                        SF!papyrus            That's good.  Because I want you to            have all the background.  This is a            very ominous assignment -- with            overtones of extreme personal            danger.  I'm a Doctor of Journalism!            This is important, goddamnit!  This            is a true story!...                   (WHACKS the BACK OF                   THE DRIVER'S SEAT                   with his fist)

The CAR SWERVES SICKENINGLY, then straightens out.

                        GONZO                   (screams)            Keep your hands off my fucking neck!

The HITCHHIKER makes a sudden lunge for freedom.  SF!papyrus GRABS HIM BACK DOWN.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            Our vibrations were getting nasty --            but why?  Was there no communication            in this car?  Had we deteriorated            to the level of dumb beasts?

The HITCHHIKER STRUGGLES IN PANIC.

                                                           7.

                        SF!papyrus                   (to HITCHHIKER)            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.  He's a foreigner.  I            think he's probably Samoan.  But it            doesn't matter, does it?  Are you            prejudiced?

                        HITCHHIKER            Hell, no!

                        SF!papyrus            I didn't think so.  Because in            spite of his race, this man is            extremely valuable to me.  Hell, I            forgot all about this beer.  You            want one?                   (HITCHHIKER shakes                   his head)            How about some ether?

                        HITCHHIKER            What?

                        SF!papyrus            Never mind.  Let's get right to the            heart of this thing.  Twenty-four            hours ago we were sitting in the            Pogo Lounge of the Beverly Wills            Hotel...

INT. THE BEVERLY WILLS HOTEL POGO LOUNGE 1971 - DAY

A uniformed DWARF, carries a shockingly PINK TELEPHONE through the glittering, tranquil POGO LOUNGE CROWD.  They are the ELOI.  HENDRIX AFROS and DROOPING MUSTACHES and BELL BOTTOMS and LOVE BEADS and BELLS.  ACTRESSES sip Singapore Slings and PROMOTERS sip ACTRESSES in this MONIED, SANITISED VERSION OF THE GREAT REVOLUTION YEARS.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            ... in the patio section, of            course, drinking Singapore Slings            with mescal on the side, hiding            from the brutish realities of this            foul year of Our Lord, 1971.

The DWARF reaches SF!papyrus -- T-shirt, levis, sneakers and shades.  GONZO -- white rayon bellbottoms and a khaki tank top undershirt.  They are in the middle of a serious conversation.

                                                           8.

                        SF!papyrus            I'm telling you, the Salazar story            is getting too complicated.  The            weasels have started closing in.

The DWARF sneers.

                        DWARF            Perhaps this is the call you've            been waiting for all this time,            sir...

SF!papyrus lifts the receiver -- listens...

                        SF!papyrus            Uh-huh... Uh-huh... Uh-huh...

SF!papyrus hangs up the PHONE with the DEAD-PAN EXPRESSION OF A MOVIE SPY.

                        DWARF            That was headquarters.  They want            me to go to Las Vegas at once and            make contact with a Portuguese            photographer named Lacerda.  He'll            have the details.  All I have to do            is check into my sound proof suite            and he'll seek me out.

GONZO, says nothing for a moment, then POUNDS the table!

                        GONZO            God hell!  I think I see the            pattern!  This one sounds like real            trouble!  You're going to need            plenty of legal advice before this            thing is over.  As your attorney I            must advise you that you'll need a            very fast car with no top and after            that, the cocaine.  And then the            tape recorder, for special music,            and some Acapulco shirts...                   (GONZO tucks his                   khaki undershirt into                   his white                   bellbottoms -- he                   means business!)            This blows my weekend, because            naturally I'll have to go with            you -- and we'll have to arm            ourselves.

                                                           9.

                        SF!papyrus            Why not?  If a thing's worth doing,            it's worth doing right.

SF!papyrus and GONZO are up and off.  The DWARF chases after them with the (very large) check in his hand.

They sweep out through the Lounge door, unaware of it swinging back into the face of the pursuing DWARF.

                        SF!papyrus            I tell you, my man.  This is the            American Dream in action!  We'd be            fools not to ride this strange            torpedo all the way to the end.

                        GONZO            Indeed.  We must do it.  What kind            of story is this?

EXT. BEVERLY WILLS HOTEL - FRONT ENTRANCE - DAY

SF!papyrus and GONZO emerge.

                        SF!papyrus            The Mint 400!  The richest off-road            race for motorcycles and dune-            buggies in the history of organized            sport!                   (handing parking                   ticket to Valet)            -- a fantastic spectacle in honor            of some fatback grossero who owns            the luxurious Mint Hotel in the            heart of downtown Vegas... at least            that's what the press release says.

Their car arrives -- rusted out, smashed door panels.  They jump in.

                        SF!papyrus            We're going to have to drum it up            on our own.  Pure Gonzo Journalism.

And they're off in a cloud of black exhaust as the nose- bleeding DWARF stumbles out with the unpaid bill in his hand.

EXT. SUNSET BLVD - DAY

The PINTO races through shot.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            Getting hold of the drugs and            shirts had been no problem...

                                                          10.

EXT. POLYNESIAN BAR - DAY

The PINTO skids to a halt outside Polynesian bar, the back window full of Hawaiian shirts.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O CONT'D)            ... but the car and tape recorder            were not easy things to round up at            6:30 on a Friday afternoon in            Hollywood.

INT. POLYNESIAN BAR - DAY

TORN YELLOW PAGES with dealer's ads ticked off lie in a pile as GONZO yells into a PAYPHONE.  SF!papyrus carries over four Singapore Slings.

                        GONZO            O.K., O.K., yes.  Hang onto it.            We'll be there in thirty minutes.                   (to SF!papyrus -- hand over                   the PHONE)            I finally located a car with            adequate horsepower and the proper            coloring.                   (into PHONE)            What?!  OF COURSE the gentleman has            a major credit card!  Do you            realize who the fuck you're talking            to?

                        SF!papyrus            Don't take any guff from these            swine.                   (GONZO slams the                   phone down)            Now we need a sound store with the            finest equipment.  Nothing dinky.            One of those new Belgian Heliowatts            with a voice-activated shotgun            mike, for picking up conversations            in oncoming cars.

                        GONZO            We won't make the nut unless we            have unlimited credit.

                        SF!papyrus            We will.  You Samoans are all the            same.  You have no faith in the            essential decency of the white            man's culture.

                                                          11.

EXT. SUNSET BLVD - DUSK

The PINTO races down street.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            The store was closed, but the            salesman said he would wait, if we            hurried...

EXT. SUNSET BLVD - TRAFFIC JAM - DUSK

They're stuck in a traffic jam -- clouds of exhaust.  SF!papyrus BANGS ON THE HORN IN FURY.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            But we were delayed en route when a            Stingray in front of us killed a            pedestrain.

Directly in front of them: BLOODY CARNAGE -- a covered corpse is loaded into an ambulance by PARAMEDICS.

EXT. CAR RENTAL AGENCY - NIGHT

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            We had trouble, again, at the car            rental agency.

Behind the wheel of the RED SHARK: SF!papyrus grins with satisfaction -- checking it out.  A nervous AGENT holds out a clipboard.  SF!papyrus signs without looking at the rental papers.

                        AGENT            Say... uh... you fellas are going            to be careful with this car, aren't            you?

                        SF!papyrus            Of course.

SF!papyrus throws the car into reverse -- roars backwards past the gas pumps to where GONZO is unloading their rusted out car.

                        AGENT            Well, good god!  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!

                        SF!papyrus            No harm done.  I always test the            transmission that way.  The rear            end.  For stress factors.

                                                          12.

GONZO transfers boxes of new sound equipment and a large box of rum and ice into the RED SHARK.

                        AGENT            Say.  Are you fellows drinking?

                        SF!papyrus            Not me.  We're responsible people.

He JAMS the car into LOW GEAR and lurches into traffic.  The AGENT runs into the street and helplessly watches them go.

                        GONZO            There's another worrier.  He's            probably all cranked up on speed.

EXT. RUNDOWN BEACH HOUSE - NIGHT

STRANGE AND MAGICAL.  In the moonlight: the silhouetted figures of SF!papyrus and GONZO as they pack the RED SHARK.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            We spent the rest of that night            rounding up materials and packing            the car.  Then we ate some mescaline            and went swimming.

The surf crashes in the distance...

EXT. PACIFIC OCEAN - NIGHT

SF!papyrus cries out as he dives into the ocean.  He lets himself float up through the silvery bubbles...

SF!papyrus AND GONZO FLOAT BEATIFICALLY IN THE GLOWING, SHIMMERING MOONLIT SURF.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            Our trip was different.  It was to            be a classic affirmation of            everything right and true in the            national character; a gross,            physical salute to the fantastic            possibilities of life in this            country.  But only for those with            true grit...

EXT. AND EVEN FURTHER DOWN THE ROAD TO LAS VEGAS - DAY

SF!papyrus's intense face.

                        SF!papyrus            ...and we're chock full of that!

                                                          13.

                        GONZO            Damn right!

                        SF!papyrus            My attorney understands this            concept, despite his racial handicap.            But do you?!

The HITCHHIKER nods -- giggles -- petrified.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            He said he understood, but I could            see in his eyes that he didn't.  He            was lying to me.

                        GONZO            My heart!

GONZO clutches his heart.  The car veers off the road and screeches to a halt.  He slumps over the wheel.

                        GONZO (CONT'D)            Where's the medicine?

                        SF!papyrus            The medicine?  Yes, it's right here.

SF!papyrus spills out 4 AMYL CAPSULES from a tin.

                        SF!papyrus            Don't worry, this man has a bad            heart... Angina Pectoris.  But we            have a cure for it.

SF!papyrus and GONZO break 2 AMYLS apiece -- INHALE DEEPLY.  GONZO falls back on the seat, staring straight up at the sun.  The HITCHHIKER looks petrified.

                        GONZO                   (suddenly flailing                   his naked arms at the sky)            Turn up the fucking music!  My            heart feels like an alligator!            Volume!  Clarity!  Bass!  We must            have bass!  What's wrong with us?            Are you goddamn old ladies?

                        SF!papyrus                   (turns up music to                   full volume)            You scurvy shyster bastard!  Watch            your language!  You're talking to a            Doctor of Journalism!

                                                          14.

                        GONZO                   (laughing uncontrollably)            What the fuck are we doing out here?            Somebody call the police!  We need            help!

                        SF!papyrus                   (to HITCHHIKER)            Pay no attention to this swine.  He            can't handle the medicine.                   (he begins laughing)

                        GONZO                   (to the HITCHHIKER)            The truth is we're going to Vegas            to croak a scag baron named Savage            Henry.  I've known him for years            but he ripped us off -- and you            know what that means, right?

GONZO pulls out a .357 Magnum -- waves it around.

                        GONZO (CONT'D)            Savage Henry has cashed his check!            We're going to rip his lungs out!

                        SF!papyrus            And eat them!  That bastard won't            get away with this!  What's going            on in this country when a scum            sucker like that can get away with            sandbagging a Doctor of Journalism?

GONZO cracks ANOTHER AMYL.

The HITCHHIKER SCRAMBLES OUT OF THE CAR, DOWN THE TRUNK LID, AND FLEES.

                        HITCHHIKER            Thanks for the ride.  Thanks a lot.            I like you guys.  Don't worry about            me.

                        SF!papyrus                   (yells)            Wait a minute!  Come back and have            a beer!

The HITCHHIKER RUNS from car.

                                                          15.

                        GONZO            Good riddance.  That boy made me            nervous.  Did you see his eyes?                   (laughing)            Jesus, this is good medicine.

SF!papyrus glances back at the running HITCHHIKER.

                        SF!papyrus                   (suddenly clambering                   into the front seat)            Move over!!  We have to get out of            California before that kid finds a            cop!

SF!papyrus GUNS THE RED SHARK -- TAKES OFF DOWN THE ROAD...

EXT. UNBELIEVABLY FAR DOWN THE ROAD TO LAS VEGAS - DAY

THE RED SHARK races -- SF!papyrus at the wheel -- straight ahead driving.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            It was absolutely imperative that            we get to the Mint Hotel before the            deadline for press registration.            Otherwise, we might have to pay for            our suite.

GONZO wrestles with a shaker of COCAINE.  The top comes off and the powder swirls away on the wind.

                        GONZO            Oh, Jesus!  Did you see what god            just did to us?

                        SF!papyrus            God didn't do that!  You did it!            You're a fucking narcotics agent,            that was our cocaine, you pig!

                        GONZO                   (waving his .357                   Magnum at SF!papyrus)            You better be careful.  Plenty of            vultures out here.  They'll pick            your bones clean before morning.

                        SF!papyrus            You whore!

GONZO tears up a BLOTTER OF ACID.

                                                          16.

                        GONZO            Here -- chew this.  It's your half            of the acid.

SF!papyrus takes his half -- chews it.

                        SF!papyrus            How long do I have?

                        GONZO            Maybe thirty more minutes.  As your            attorney, I advise you to drive at            top speed.  It'll be a goddamn            miracle if we can get there before            you turn into a wild animal.  Are            you ready for that?  Checking into            a Vegas hotel under a phony name            with intent to commit capital fraud            and a head full of acid.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            Thirty minutes.  It was going to be            very close.

The RED SHARK screams along the highway past a billboard: "DON'T GAMBLE WITH MARIJUANA! \ IN NEVADA: POSSESSION - 20 YEARS; SALE - LIFE!!"

EXT. LAS VEGAS MINT HOTEL - DUSK

The RED SHARK pulls up outside the MINT.  A great banner spanning the street announces the MINT 400.

SF!papyrus can feel the drug surging up inside him.  Clutching a buckled beer can, sweat pouring, he stares fixedly at the TICKET the ATTENDANT gives him.

                        SF!papyrus            I need this, right?

                        ATTENDANT            I'll remember your face.

SF!papyrus stares -- losing it...

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            There is no way of explaining the            terror I felt.

INT. HOTEL LOBBY - DAY

SF!papyrus waits in line at the front desk -- RIGID WITH PENT UP ENERGY.  GONZO's ahead of him -- muscling in -- trying to queue jump and failing.

                                                          17.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            I was pouring sweat.  My blood is            too thick for Nevada.  I've never            been able to properly explain            myself in this climate.

A COUPLE move off and SF!papyrus jerks forward -- stops -- eyes fixed on the stony FEMALE RESERVATIONS CLERK.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O CONT'D)            Be quiet, be calm... name, rank,            and press affiliation, nothing            else...

SF!papyrus moves ANOTHER RIGID STEP CLOSER to the desk -- the tension almost snapping him in two.  GONZO's FLAPPING AROUND -- absolutely no success.

Something catches SF!papyrus's eye... He REMAINS ROOTED -- his eyes turning to the VEGETAL PAISLEY PATTERNS ON THE CARPET WHICH ARE SHIFTING -- UNDULATING.  THE CARPET PATTERNS ARE INEXORABLY CREEPING UP THE WALLS...

                        SF!papyrus (V/O CONT'D)            ...ignore this terrible drug,            pretend it's not happening...

The LAST PEOPLE leave -- with A FINAL, STIFF MOVE, SF!papyrus comes face to face with the RESERVATIONS CLERK... AND EXPLODES!

                        SF!papyrus            HI THERE.  MY NAME... AH, Papyrus            SF!papyrus... ON... ON THAT LIST, THAT'S            FOR SURE.  FREE LUNCH, FINAL            WISDOM, TOTAL COVERAGE... WHY NOT?            I HAVE MY ATTORNEY WITH ME, AND I            REALIZE OF COURSE...

As SF!papyrus stares at her, BABBLING, her FACE BEGINS TO MORPH. He tries to stop it happening by TALKING FASTER.

                        SF!papyrus            ... THAT HIS NAME IS NOT ON THE            LIST, BUT WE MUST HAVE THAT SUITE.            YES.  JUST CHECK THE LIST AND            YOU'LL SEE.  DON'T WORRY.  WHAT'S            THE SCORE HERE?  WHAT'S NEXT?

SF!papyrus sags -- grips the desk -- WHITE KNUCKLES.

                                                          18.

                        RESERVATIONS CLERK                   (hands him an envelope)            Your suite's not ready yet.  But            there's somebody looking for you.

Her face is CHANGING -- SWELLING -- PULSING...

                        SF!papyrus                   (shouts)            NO!  WHY?  WE HAVEN'T DONE ANYTHING            YET!

The FACE OF THE RESERVATIONS CLERK TURNS GREEN & GROWS FANGS. DEADLY POISON!  SF!papyrus LUNGES BACK at GONZO, who GRIPS his arm intensely -- REACHES OUT to take the ENVELOPE.

                        GONZO            I can handle this.  This man has a            bad heart, but I have plenty of            medicine.  My name is Dr. Gonzo.            Prepare our suite at once.  We'll            be in the bar.

GONZO manoeuvres SF!papyrus away from the desk.  SF!papyrus looks back -- the RESERVATIONS CLERKS is now a MORAY EEL -- green jowls and fangs.

INT. NAUTICAL BAR - DAY

The bar -- OILY PEOPLE -- quiet music -- nautical theme. SF!papyrus and GONZO at the bar, a marlin spike hanging on the wall behind them.  SF!papyrus has turned to stone...

                        GONZO                   (to the bartender)            Two Cuba Libres with beer and            mescal on the side.                   (opens the envelope)            Who's Lacerda, he's waiting for us            in a room on the twelfth floor?

                        SF!papyrus            Lacerda?

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            I couldn't remember.  The name rang            a bell, but I couldn't concentrate.            Terrible things were happening all            around us...

SF!papyrus is staring -- RAPT -- TERRIFIED.  BLOOD FLOWS FREELY onto the floor.  SF!papyrus keeps his voice low.

                                                          19.

                        SF!papyrus            Order some golf shoes.  Otherwise,            we'll never get out of this place            alive.  It's impossible to walk in            this muck -- no footing at all...

SF!papyrus looks up -- GONZO has disappeared.

SF!papyrus looks around him -- the entire room has TRANSFORMED into a ROOM FILLED WITH REPTILES IN CLOTHES, DRINKING AND GNAWING AT ONE ANOTHER.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            I was right in the middle of a            fucking reptile zoo.  And somebody            was giving booze to these goddamn            things!  It won't be long before            they tear us to shreds!

GONZO IS SUDDENLY BACK -- AT SF!papyrus'S SHOULDER.

                        GONZO            If you think we're in trouble now            wait until you see what's happening            in the elevators.

GONZO removes his sunshades and we see he's been crying... as he speaks he seems to be floating.  SF!papyrus struggles to keep him in his line of vision.

                        GONZO            I just went upstairs to see this            man Lacerda.  I told him I knew            what he was up to...                   (GONZO rallies --                   turns fierce)            He says he's a photographer!  But            when I mentioned Savage Henry he            freaked!  He knows we're onto him!

                        SF!papyrus            But what about our room?  And the            golf shoes?

A GROUP OF REPTILES AT A TABLE ACROSS THE ROOM stares at them, BLOOD DRIPPING FROM THEIR FANGS.

                        SF!papyrus (CONT'D)                   (grabbing GONZO                   trying to hold him still)            Holy shit!  Look at that bunch over            there!  They've spotted us!

                                                          20.

Cut to wider shot -- SF!papyrus is holding on to a man standing next to him at the bar.  The room has returned to normality. GONZO is sitting in his original position.

                        GONZO                   (downs his drink --                   gets up)            That's the press table.  Where you            have to sign in for our credentials.            Shit, let's get it over with.  You            handle that, and I'll check on the            room.

                        SF!papyrus            No, no.  Don't leave me!

Black screen.

INT. MINT HOTEL SUITE - DUSK

A TELEVISION shows the NIGHTLY NEWS.  A BUDDHIST MONK, protesting the war, sets himself on fire.  A very nervous BELL BOY is laying out GONZO's order.  A marlin spike is on the floor next to SF!papyrus.

                        BELL BOY            Four club sandwiches, four shrimp            cocktails.

                        SF!papyrus            There's a big... machine in the            sky... some kind of electric snake...

SF!papyrus is curled by the window -- MESMERIZED by an unseen neon sign outside the window.  His eyes fill with a million colored lights.

                        BELL BOY            ... a quart of rum...

                        SF!papyrus            ... coming straight at us.

                        GONZO            Shoot it.

                        SF!papyrus            Not yet.  I want to study its habits.

                        BELL BOY            ... and nine fresh grapefruit.

                                                          21.

                        GONZO            Vitamin C.  We'll need all we can            get.

GONZO sees the BELL BOY out the door -- turns and lays into SF!papyrus.

                        GONZO            Look, you've got to stop this talk            about snakes and leeches and            lizards and that stuff.  It's            making me sick!

SF!papyrus stares -- hears the drone of B52 BOMBERS...

On TV: The LAOS INVASION -- A SERIES OF HORRIFYING DISASTERS -- EXPLOSIONS AND TWISTED WRECKAGE.

Newsreel footage of MAI LAI MASSACRE and the LIEUTENANT CALLEY court-martial.

                        SF!papyrus            What are you talking about?

                        GONZO            You bastard!  They'll never let us            back in that place.  I leave you            alone for three minutes and you            start waving that goddamn marlin            spike around -- yelling about            reptiles!  You scared the shit out            of those people!  They were ready            to call the cops.  Hell, the only            reason they gave us press passes            was to get you out of there...

A knock at the door.  SF!papyrus and GONZO break out in a sweat.

                        SF!papyrus            Oh my God!  Who's that?!

GONZO STICKS HIS GUN IN HIS WAISTBAND -- opens the door to LACERDA -- BOUNCING WITH PUPPY DOG ENTHUSIASM.  GONZO stares at a man he instantly hates -- watches him with deep suspicion.

                        LACERDA            SF!papyrus?  I'm Lacerda your photographer.            Got your press passes?  Good, good.            Too bad you missed the bikes            checking in.  My, what a sight!

SF!papyrus watches the B-52S DROP THEIR BOMB LOADS.

                                                          22.

Looking down to the thick, patterned carpet, SF!papyrus sees the BOMBS EXPLODE like vicious flowers.

SF!papyrus looks up: LACERDA is a war photographer -- bruised, filthy and blood spattered.  LACERDA approaches him -- talking a foreign language.

                        LACERDA            Husquavarnas.  Yamahas.  Kawaskis.            Maicos.  Pursang.  Swedish Fireballs.            Couple of Triumphs, here and there            a CZ.  All very fast.  What a race            it's gonna be.

SF!papyrus screws up his eyes -- WILLS NORMALITY BACK.  LACERDA is now just a keen photographer.L

                        LACERDA            Well, we start at dawn.  Get a good            night's sleep.  I know I will.

And with a cheerful wave, he's gone.  SF!papyrus is in shock.

                        SF!papyrus                   (weakly)            That's good...

                        GONZO            I think he's lying to us.  I could            see it in his eyes.

                        SF!papyrus                   (even weaker)            They'll probably have a big net for            us when we show up.

SF!papyrus's attention returns to the devastation on the TV...

                        GONZO            Turn that shit off!

GONZO kills the TV.

Black screen.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            Never lose sight of the primary            responsibility.  Cover the story.            But what was the story?  Nobody had            bothered to say.

                                                          23.

EXT. DESERT - DAWN

Against A BIG ORANGE SUN, on a concrete slab, MEN FIRE SHOTGUNS into the dawn sky.  Clay pigeons shatter.  The Mint Gun Club.

Next to them, MOTORCYCLES REV -- preparing for the MINT 400 RACE: A hundred BIKERS, MECHANICS and assorted MOTORSPORT TYPES milling around in the pit area; taping headlights, topping off oil in the forks, last minute bolt tightening.

SF!papyrus wanders through.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            The racers were ready at dawn.            Very tense.  But the race didn't            start until nine so we had three            long hours to kill.

A sign by a long trestle table: "KOFFEE & DONUTS." SF!papyrus walks past -- ignoring the SMILING LADY behind the stall.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O CONT'D)            Those of us who 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 and we were gathered here, in            Las Vegas, for a very special            assignment.  And when it comes to            things like this you don't fool            around.

INT. RACE BAR TENT - DAY

A real pit of iniquity.  Slot Machines.  Crap tables.  Smoke. Drunken shouting.  The absolute cream of the NATIONAL SPORTING PRESS.

SF!papyrus is at the bar, engaged in drunken conversation with a LIFE REPORTER...showing him his notebook.

                        SF!papyrus            See..."Kill the body and the head            will die"... the Frazier/Ali fight...

                        MAGAZINE REPORTER            A proper end to the 60's... Ali            beaten by a human hamburger!

                        SF!papyrus            And both Kennedy's murdered by            mutants.

                                                          24.

A SHOUT goes up from outside.  The sound of engines revving.

                        REPORTER            That's it!  They're starting!

In a sudden rush the PRESS CROWD make for the door taking SF!papyrus with them.

EXT. DESERT - DAY

MOTORCYCLES REV -- tension builds...

A flag goes down.  The CROWD cheers.  The MOTORCYCLES ROAR AWAY.  A great cloud of dust goes up -- obscuring the RACERS as they disappear into the desert...

A moment...

                        REPORTER            Well, that's that.  They'll be back            in an hour or so.  Let's go back to            the bar.

The CROWD turns and streams back into the tent.

INT. RACE BAR TENT - DAY

SF!papyrus heads for the bar along with the REST.  It's packed. Drinks are ordered.

A shout from outside the tent goes up:

                        VOICE OFF            Group 2!

The CROWD rushes for the door.  SF!papyrus gets swept along.

EXT. DESERT - DAY

MOTORCYCLES REV.  A flag goes down.  The CROWD cheers.  The MOTORCYCLES ROAR AWAY.  Another great cloud of dust goes up...

The CROWD head back for the bar.

INT. RACE BAR TENT - DAY

The CROWD surge back to the bar.

                        VOICE OFF            Group 3!

This time SF!papyrus fights his way free of the CROWD.

                                                          25.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            There was something like 190 more            bikes waiting to start.  They were            due to go off 10 at a time every 2            minutes.

SF!papyrus hits the bar.

                        SF!papyrus            Beer!

A middle-aged HOODLUM in a T-shirt booms up to the bar.

                        HOODLUM            God damn!  What day is this --            Saturday?

                        SF!papyrus            More like Sunday.

                        HOODLUM            Hah!  That's a bitch, ain't it?            Last night I was home in Long Beach            and somebody said they were runnin'            the Mint 400 today, so I says to my            old lady, "Man, I'm goin'." So she            gives me a lot of crap about it, so            I start slappin' her around, and            the next thing you know two guys I            never seen before are beating me            stupid.

                        VOICE OFF            Group 4!

Outside, another batch of motorcycles roar away -- kicking up more clouds of dust.

                        HOODLUM            Then they gave me ten bucks, put me            on a bus, and when I woke up here I            was in downtown Vegas, and for a            minute all I could think was, "O            Jesus, who's divorcing me this            time?" But then I remembered, by            God!  I was here for the Mint 400.            And, man, I tell you, it's wonderful            to be here.  Just wonderful to be            here with you people.

A silence.  A MAGAZINE REPORTER lunges across the bar -- grabs the BARTENDER.

                                                          26.

                        MAGAZINE REPORTER            Senzaman wassyneeds!

                        SF!papyrus                   (smacks the bar with                   his palm)            Hell yes!  Bring us ten!

                        VOICE OFF            Group 5!

                        MAGAZINE REPORTER                   (screams)            I'll back it!                   (slides off his stool                   to the floor)

Outside, motorcycles roar away.  The dust cloud billows into the tent -- getting denser.

                        MAGAZINE REPORTER (CONT'D)                   (on the floor)            This is a magic moment in sport!            It may never come again!  I once            did the Triple Crown, but it was            nothing like this.

A FROG-EYED WOMAN claws at the MAGAZINE REPORTER, tries to haul him up.

                        FROG-EYED WOMAN            Please stand up!  You're a            correspondent for a major national            magazine who's name we can't get            clearance for!  Please!  You'd be a            very handsome man if you'd just            stand up!

                        MAGAZINE REPORTER            Listen, madam.  I'm damn near            intolerably handsome down here            where I am.  You'd go crazy if I            stood up!

A feverishly eager LACERDA appears out of the dust cloud, 3 cameras slung round his neck.

                        LACERDA            Club soda, please.

                        FROG-EYED WOMAN                   (to MAGAZINE REPORTER)            Please!  I love Life!

                                                          27.

                        LACERDA                   (to SF!papyrus)            Man, it's great out there!

                        SF!papyrus            Lunatics.

LACERDA grins.

                        VOICE OFF            Group 6!

                        LACERDA            Meet you outside!

LACERDA downs his drink -- hurries out through the crowd and out into the cloud of dust.

EXT. DESERT - DAY

Nothing.  Except for a THICK CLOUD OF DUST.

Barely visible, a motorcycle comes speeding into the pits. The RIDER staggers off his bike.  The PIT CREW gas it up and sends it back with a FRESH RIDER.

SF!papyrus watches him disappear back into the dust cloud.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            By 10 they were spread out all over            the course.  It was no longer a            race, now it was an Endurance            Contest.  The idea of trying to            "cover this race" in any            conventional press sense was absurd.

A HORN HONKS.  A shiny BLACK BRONCO with DRIVER.  LACERDA hangs out of the window.

                        LACERDA            It's great, isn't it?!  Jump in!

SF!papyrus gets into the Bronco and they head into the DUST CLOUD.

EXT. DESERT - DAY

IN THE BRONCO.

SF!papyrus hangs on with his beer.  Nothing all around but the HUGE IMPENETRABLE CLOUD OF DUST.  LACERDA snaps madly away at nothing at all!

                                                          28.

                        LACERDA            I'll just keep trying different            combos of film and lenses till I            find one that works in this dust!

The SOUND OF MOTORCYCLES RACING...

We hear music and voices singing:

                        BATTLE HYMN            "...As we go marching on            When I reach my final campground,            in            that land beyond the sun,            And the Great Commander asks me..."            [What did he ask you, Rusty?]            "Did you fight or did you run?"

A moment later, the Bronco races out of the dust.  SF!papyrus coughs, chokes, drinks beer.

                        BATTLE HYMN                   (continuing)            [And what did you tell them,            Rusty?]            "We responded to their rifle fire            with everything we had..."

The sound of gun shots...

A DUNE BUGGY races toward them, loaded down with THREE RETIRED PETTY OFFICERS, DRUNK AS HELL.  The radio blares: "THE BATTLE HYMN OF LIEUTENANT CALLEY."

The dune buggy is COVERED WITH OMINOUS SYMBOLS: SCREAMING EAGLES CARRYING AMERICAN FLAGS IN THEIR CLAWS.  A slant-eyed Snake being chopped to bits by a buzz-saw made of stars and stripes.  A MACHINE GUN MOUNT on the passenger side.  They yell over the roaring engines.

                        DUNE BUGGY DRIVER            Where's the damn race?

                        SF!papyrus            Beats me.  We're just good patriotic            Americans like yourself.

SF!papyrus gives DUNE BUGGY PASSENGER #2 A NICE BIG GRIN.  In response, the PASSENGER #2 narrows his eyes -- tightens his grip on an automatic weapon.

                        DUNE BUGGY DRIVER                   (suspiciously)            What outfit you fellas with?

                                                          29.

                        SF!papyrus            The sporting press.  We're            friendlies.  Hired geeks.

The DRIVER and DUNE BUGGY PASSENGER #2 exchange looks.

                        SF!papyrus            If you want a good chase, you            should get after that skunk from            CBS News up ahead in the black jeep.            He's the man responsible for that            book, THE SELLING OF THE PENTAGON.

                        DUNE BUGGY PASSENGER #1            HOT DAMN!

                        DUNE BUGGY PASSENGER #2            A black jeep, you say?

And they ROAR away.

                        SF!papyrus            Take me back to the pits.

                        LACERDA            No, no -- we have to go on.  We            need total coverage.

SF!papyrus gets out of the Bronco.

                        SF!papyrus            You're fired.

After a moment's hesitation, LACERDA and the BRONCO driver roar away leaving SF!papyrus alone in the cloud of dust.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            It was time.  I felt, for an            Agonizing Reappraisal of the whole            scene.  The race was definitely            under way.  I had witnessed the            start; I was sure of that much.            But what now?

EXT. LAS VEGAS STREETS - NIGHT

MUSIC PUMPS OUT.  CRUISING IN THE RED SHARK IN VEGAS.  THE SKY SWIRLS WITH MILLIONS OF NEON LIGHTS CHASING EACH OTHER IN BAROQUE PATTERNS ACROSS GIGANTIC HOTEL SIGNS.  PSYCHEDELIC LIGHT SHOWS TO LURE AND DERANGE THE INNOCENT.  CITY OF LOST SOULS.

                                                          30.

                        SF!papyrus            Turn up the radio!  Turn up the            tape machine!  Roll the windows            down.  Let's taste this cool desert            wind!  Aaah, yes!  This is what            it's all about!

SF!papyrus, beer in hand, drives -- a big smile for the world. GONZO scans The Vegas Visitor.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            Total control now.  Tooling along            the main drag on a Saturday night            in Vegas, two good old boys in a            fire apple red convertible...            stoned, ripped, twisted... Good            people!

                        GONZO            How about "Nickel Nick's Slot            Arcade?" "Hot Slots," that sounds            heavy.  Twenty-nine cent hotdogs...

                        SF!papyrus            Look, what are we doing here?  Are            we here to entertain ourselves, or            to do the job?

                        GONZO            To do the job, of course.  Here we            go... a Crab Louie and quart of            muscatel for twenty dollars!

The Shark hits a bump.

                        GONZO            As your attorney I advise you to            drive over to the Tropicana and            pick up on Guy Lombardo.  He's in            the Blue Room with his Royal            Canadians.

They hit another bump.

                        SF!papyrus            Why?

                        GONZO            Why what?

CUT to wide shot.  They are DRIVING AROUND IN CIRCLES in a large casino parking lot, bumping over the dividers.

                                                          31.

                        SF!papyrus            Why should I pay out my hard-earned            dollars to watch a fucking corpse.            I don't know about you, but in my            line of business it's important to            be Hep.

EXT. DESERT ROOM HOTEL - NIGHT

TWO BIG SCREAMING FACES.

                        DOORMAN #1            What the hell are you doing?!

                        DOORMAN #2            You can't park here!

                        SF!papyrus            Why not?  Is this not a reasonable            place to park?

Reveal the RED SHARK parked on the sidewalk in front of the Desert Inn.  TWO DOORMEN loom over the car hood.  The MARQUEE says: TONIGHT.  DEBBIE REYNOLDS.

GONZO leaps from the car, waving a five-dollar bill at the DOORMAN.

                        GONZO            We want this car parked!  We drove            all the way from L.A. for this show.            We're friends of Debbie's.

A pause, then... the DOORMAN pockets the bill, hands them a parking stub.  SF!papyrus and GONZO hurry into the hotel.

INT. DESERT FROM HOTEL LOBBY - NIGHT

SF!papyrus and GONZO walk through the lobby.  Black, mirrored, sleek, classy.

                        SF!papyrus            Holy shit!  They almost had us            there!  That was quick thinking.

                        GONZO            What do you expect?  I'm your            attorney.  You owe me five bucks.            I want it now.

SF!papyrus shrugs and hands over the $5.

                                                          32.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            This was Bob Hope's turf.  Frank            Sinatra's.  Spiro Agnew's.  It            seemed inappropriate to be haggling            about nickel/dime bribes for the            parking lot attendant.

A WINE-COLORED TUXEDO stops them at the entrance to the ballroom.

                        WINE-COLORED TUXEDO            Sorry, full house.

                        GONZO            Goddamnit, we drove all the way            from L.A.

                        WINE-COLORED TUXEDO            I said there are no seats left...            at any price.

                        GONZO            Fuck seats!  We're old friends of            Debbie's.  I used to romp with her.

GONZO and the WINE-COLORED TUXEDO get into an ugly arm- waving negotiation.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            After a lot of bad noise, he let us            in for nothing provided we would            stand quietly at the back and not            smoke.

As SF!papyrus and GONZO disappear through the door we can hear the orchestra blasting out a HIGHLY BLANDIZED "SGT. PEPPER'S LONELY HEARTS CLUB BAND."

A beat.

The door flies open and BOUNCERS manhandle SF!papyrus and GONZO out.  Despite the rough treatment they're both SCREECHING WITH LAUGHTER.

                        GONZO            Jesus creeping shit!

                        SF!papyrus                   (tears streaming)            Did the mescaline just kick in?  Or            was that Debbie Reynolds in a            silver Afro wig?!

                                                          33.

                        GONZO                   (in hysteria)            We wandered into a fucking time            capsule!

EXT. LAS VEGAS STREETS - NIGHT

SF!papyrus DRIVES FAST into the night.  They're both LAUGHING HYSTERICALLY.

                        SF!papyrus                   (in hysteria)            We wandered into a fucking time            capsule!

THEN... GONZO finds a TINY TEAR IN HIS JACKET...

                        GONZO            What's this?...

GONZO is instantly MOROSE.

                        GONZO            That scum...

GONZO twists round in the car -- SCREAMS back into the night.

                        GONZO            SCUM!  I know where you live!  I'll            find you and burn down your fucking            house!

EXT. BAZOOKO CIRCUS - NIGHT

A hundred foot high neon clown: BAZOOKO CIRCUS.

The RED SHARK pulls up beneath the sign.

                        SF!papyrus            This is the place.  They'll never            fuck with us here.

                        GONZO            Where's the ether?  This mescaline            isn't working.

EXT. BAZOOKO CIRCUS CASINO - NIGHT

Into the GLARING, CHASING LIGHTS of the entrance canopy steps SF!papyrus in EC/U holding a KLEENEX SOAKED IN ETHER TO HIS NOSE.

                                                          34.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            Ah, devil ether.  It makes you            behave like the village drunkard in            some early Irish novel... total            loss of all basic motor skills;            blurred vision, no balance, numb            tongue --                   (throws away kleenex)            The mind recoils in horror, unable            to communicate with the spinal            column.  Which is interesting,            because you can actually watch            yourself behaving in this terrible            way, but you can't control it.

SF!papyrus and GONZO approach the entrance with elaborate care- taking one step at a time -- trying to keep ahead of the drug.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            You approach the turnstiles and            know that when you get there, you            have to give the man two dollars or            he won't let you inside... but when            you get there, everything goes wrong.

THE ETHER KICKS IN:

SF!papyrus and GONZO BOUNCE off the walls, CRASH into OLD LADIES, GIGGLE HELPLESSLY as they try to pay -- HANDS FLAPPING CRAZILY, unable to get money out of their pockets.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            Some angry Rotarian shoves you and            you think: What's happening here?            What's going on?  Then you hear            yourself mumbling.

                        SF!papyrus                   (mumbling)            Dogs fucked the Pope, no fault of            mine.  Watch out!... Why money?  My            name is Brinks; I was born... Born?

                        GONZO            Get sheep over side... women and            children to armored car... orders            from Captain Zeep.

The ATTENDANTS indulgently escort them through the TURNSTILES.

                                                          35.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            Ether is the perfect drug for Las            Vegas.  In this town they love a            drunk.  Fresh meat.  So they put us            through the turnstiles and turned            us loose inside.

INT. BAZOOKO CIRCUS CASINO - NIGHT

Flames shoot up from below the casino.  Above, a HIGH WIRE ACT with FOUR MUZZLED WOLVERINES, SIX NYMPHET SISTERS FROM SAN DIEGO, TWO SILVER PAINTED POLACK BROTHERS, and THREE KOREAN KITTENS.

The WOLVERINE chases a NYMPHET through the air.  TWO POLACKS swing at it from opposite sides and they are instantly locked in a death battle.

All plummet to the nets suspended over the GAMBLING TABLES and SLOT MACHINES.  No one looks up.  The GAMBLERS REMAIN INTENT ON THE SPINNING ROULETTE WHEEL, THE TURN OF THE CARD, THE ROLL OF A DICE.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            Bazooko Circus is what the whole            hep world would be doing Saturday            night if the Nazis had won the war.            This was the Sixth Reich.

Something causes SF!papyrus to look down.  A dwarf carrying drinks on a tray is tugging SF!papyrus's pants leg trying to get him to move out of the way.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O CONT'D)            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,            nobody should be asked to handle            this trip.

GONZO and SF!papyrus go upstairs walking past funhouse booths. One of them is manned by an orangutan in costume.  A FAIRGROUND BARKER grabs SF!papyrus.

                        FAIRGROUND BARKER            Stand in front of this fantastic            machine, my friend.  For just 99            cents your likeness will appear 200            hundred feet tall on a screen above            downtown Las Vegas.

On a TV monitor a 200 FOOT HIGH DRUNKARD looms over the Las Vegas skyline screaming OBSCENITIES.

                                                          36.

                        FAIRGROUND BARKER            99 cents more for a voice message.            Say whatever you want, fella.            They'll hear you, don't worry about            that.  Remember, you'll be 200 feet            tall!

                        ANOTHER BARKER            Step right up!  Shoot the pasties            off the nipples of this ten-foot            bull-dyke and win a cotton candy            goat!

INT. BAZOOKO CIRCUS REVOLVING MERRY-GO-ROUND BAR - NIGHT

SF!papyrus and GONZO sit on the revolving platform.  GONZO stares -- glassy eyed -- coming apart.

                        GONZO            I hate to say this, but this place            is getting to me.  I think I'm            getting The Fear.

                        SF!papyrus            Nonsense.  We came here to find the            American Dream, and now we're right            in the vortex you want to quit.            You must realize that we've found            the Main Nerve.

                        GONZO            That's what gives me The Fear.

                        SF!papyrus            Look over there.  Two women fucking            a Polar Bear.

                        GONZO            Please, don't tell me those things...            Not now.                   (signals the waitress                   for two Wild Turkeys)            This is my last drink.  How much            money can you lend me?

                        SF!papyrus            Not much.  Why?

                        GONZO            I have to go.

                        SF!papyrus            GO?

                                                          37.

                        GONZO            Yes.  Leave the country.  Tonight.

                        SF!papyrus            Calm down.  You'll be straight in a            few hours.

                        GONZO            No.  This is serious.  One more            hour in this town and I'll kill            somebody!

                        SF!papyrus            OK.  I'll lend you some money.            Let's go outside and see how much            we have left.

                        GONZO            Can we make it?

                        SF!papyrus            That depends on how many people we            fuck with between here and the door.

                        GONZO            I want to leave fast.

                        SF!papyrus            OK.  Lets pay this bill and get up            very slowly.  It's going to be a            long walk.                   (signals waitress who                   comes over)

                        GONZO                   (suddenly to waitress)            Do they pay you to screw that bear?

                        WAITRESS            What?

                        SF!papyrus            He's just kidding.                   (to GONZO)            Come on, Doc -- lets go downstairs            and gamble.

GONZO trembles with fear -- walks to the edge of the turntable.

                        GONZO            When does this thing stop?

                                                          38.

                        SF!papyrus            It won't stop.  It's not ever going            to stop.

SF!papyrus carefully steps off the turntable.

GONZO, eyes staring blindly ahead, squiting in fear and confusion, rooted to the spot, is carried away.

                        SF!papyrus            Don't move you'll come around.

SF!papyrus reaches out to grab GONZO, who jumps back -- keeps going around.

The BARTENDER narrows his eyes at them.

SF!papyrus steps onto the merry-go-round -- hurries round the bar -- approaching GONZO from the blind side and shoves GONZO from behind.  GONZO goes down with a hellish scream. SF!papyrus approaches him with his hands in the air.  Smiling.

                        SF!papyrus            You fell.  Let's go.

GONZO refuses to move and stands tense, fists clenched, looking for somebody to hit...an old woman perhaps?

                        SF!papyrus (CONT'D)            OK.  You stay here and go to jail.            I'm leaving.

SF!papyrus walks fast towards the stairs.  GONZO catches up with him.

                        GONZO            Did you see that?  Some sonofabitch            kicked me in the back.

                        SF!papyrus            Probably the bartender.  He wanted            to stomp you for what you said to            the waitress.

                        GONZO            Good God!  Let's get out of here!            Where's the elevator?

                        SF!papyrus                   (turning him in the                   opposite direction)            Don't go near that elevator.            That's just what they want us to            do... trap us in a steel box and            take us down to the basement.

                                                          39.

EXT. BAZOOKO CIRCUS CASINO - NIGHT

SF!papyrus and GONZO stumble out of the entrance.

                        SF!papyrus            Don't run.  They'd like any excuse            to shoot us.

                        GONZO                   (in an extended fall)            You drive!  I think there's            something wrong with me.

INT. MINT HOTEL CORRIDOR OUTSIDE THEIR SUITE - NIGHT

SF!papyrus AND GONZO RUN MADLY DOWN THE CORRIDOR... SF!papyrus TAKING CARE NOT TO STEP ON THE PATTERNED PART OF THE CARPET.

GONZO STRUGGLES with the key in the lock.

                        GONZO            Those bastards have changed the            lock on us.  They probably searched            the room.  Jesus, we're finished!

The door SUDDENLY SWINGS OPEN.  SF!papyrus AND GONZO fall inside.

INT. MINT HOTEL SUITE - NIGHT

                        GONZO            Bolt everything!  Use all chains!

SF!papyrus locks the door.  The suite is crowded with ROOM SERVICE GOODIES.  SF!papyrus turns to see GONZO staring at two hotel room keys.  EVERYTHING STOPS.

                        GONZO            Where did this one come from?

SF!papyrus snatches a key.

                        SF!papyrus            That's Lacerda's room.

GONZO smiles a slow smile...

                        GONZO            Yeah... I thought we might need it...

                        SF!papyrus            What for?

GONZO snatches the key back.

                                                          40.

                        GONZO            Let's go up there and blast him out            of bed with the fire hose.

                        SF!papyrus            No, we should leave the poor            bastard alone.  I get the feeling            that he's avoiding us for some            reason.

                        GONZO            Don't kid yourself.  That Portuguese            son of a bitch is dangerous.  He's            watching us like a hawk.

                        SF!papyrus            He told me he was turning in early...

GONZO utters an anguished cry -- slaps the wall with both hands.

                        GONZO            That dirty bastard!  I knew it!            He's got hold of my woman!

                        SF!papyrus                   (laughing)            That little blonde groupie with the            film crew?  You think he sodomized            her?

                        GONZO            That's right, laugh about it!  You            goddamn honkies are all the same!

GONZO SLASHES A GRAPEFRUIT with a HUGE RAZOR SHARP HUNTING KNIFE.  SF!papyrus blanches.

                        SF!papyrus            Where'd you get that knife?

GONZO SLICES THE GRAPEFRUIT -- MANIACAL.

                        GONZO            Room service sent it up.  I wanted            something to cut the limes.

GONZO SLICES THE GRAPEFRUIT -- INTO EIGHTHS!

                        SF!papyrus            What limes?

GONZO SLICES -- SIXTEENTHS!

                                                          41.

                        GONZO            They didn't have any.  They don't            grow in the desert.

SLICE!  SLICE!  SLICE!

                        GONZO            That dirty toad bastard!  I knew I            should have taken him out when I            had the chance.  Now he has her.

SLICE!  SLICE!  SLICE!  GONZO SLASHES INSANELY!

SF!papyrus watches -- straight-faced.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            I remember the girl.  We'd had a            problem with her in the elevator a            few hours earlier: my attention had            made a fool of himself.

INT. ELEVATOR - DAY (FLASHBACK)

An elevator door opens to reveal the SMILING FACES OF LACERDA, THE BLONDE TV REPORTER AND HER CREW.

SF!papyrus and GONZO stagger in.

LACERDA drops his smile.  He's standing beside the BLONDE TV REPORTER.  A trembling GONZO moonily turns his eyes onto her.

                        BLONDE TV REPORTER                   (to Gonzo)            You must be a rider.  What class            are you in?

                        GONZO            Class?  What the fuck do you mean?

                        BLONDE TV REPORTER            What do you ride?  We're filming            the race for a TV series -- maybe            we can use you.

                        GONZO            Use me?

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            Mother of God, I thought.  Here it            comes.

GONZO is TREMBLING BADLY.  There's a moment of uncomfortable silence.

                                                          42.

                        GONZO                   (suddenly shouting)            I ride the BIG ONES!  The really            BIG fuckers!

GONZO shows his teeth to LACERDA.  SF!papyrus laughs trying to defuse the scene.

                        SF!papyrus            The Vincent Black Shadow.  We're            with the Factory Team.

                        TV CAMERAMAN            Bullshit.

GONZO stills -- becomes dangerous -- zeros in on the TV CAMERAMAN -- groin to groin...

                        GONZO            Wait a minute, pardon me lady, but            I think there's some kind of            ignorant chicken-sucker in this car            who needs his face cut open.  You            cheap honky faggots!  Which one of            you wants to get cut?!

DEAD SILENCE.

Ding!  The elevator door opens, but nobody moves.  The door closes.

Next floor.  Ding!  The door opens again.  A middle-aged couple start to get in.  Change their minds.  The door closes.

INT. CORRIDOR - DAY

SF!papyrus and GONZO run down the corridor.  GONZO LAUGHS WILDLY.

                        GONZO            Spooked!  They were spooked!  Like            rats in a death cage!

INT. MINT HOTEL SUITE - DAY

SF!papyrus and GONZO CRASH into their hotel suite -- BOLT THE DOOR. GONZO stops laughing.

                        GONZO            Goddamn.  It's serious now.  That            girl understood.  She fell in love            with me.

END FLASHBACK.

                                                          43.

INT. MINT HOTEL SUITE - NIGHT

SLICE!  SLICE!  SLICE!  GONZO with the BIG HUNTING KNIFE -- sliced grapefruit segments everywhere.

                        GONZO            Let's go up there and castrate that            fucker!

GONZO pauses -- A MAD THOUGHT -- turns to SF!papyrus.

                        GONZO                   (squinting suspiciously)            Have you made a deal with him?  Did            you put him on to her?

                        SF!papyrus                   (backing slowly                   towards the door)            Look you better put that blade away            and get your head straight.  I have            to put the car in the lot.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            One of the things you learn, after            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 eyes.

INT. CASINO/LOBBY MINT HOTEL

The MAGAZINE REPORTER is on the telephone.

                        MAGAZINE REPORTER            Las Vegas at dawn.  The racers are            still asleep, the dust is still on            the desert, fifty thousand dollars            in prize money, slumbers darkly in            the office safe at Del Webb's            fabulous Mint Hotel...

SF!papyrus walks past the REPORTER -- into THE CASINO, THE SAD, MEAGRE CROWDS AROUND THE CRAP TABLES.  No joy.  SF!papyrus watches.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            Who are these people?  These faces!            Where do they come from?  They look            like caricatures of used car            dealers from Dallas.                         (MORE)

                                                          44.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O; CONT'D)            And, sweet Jesus, there are a hell            of a lot of them at four-thirty on            a Monday morning.  Still humping            the American dream, that vision of            the big winner somehow emerging            from the last minute predawn chaos            of a stale Vegas casino.

SF!papyrus stops at the Money Wheel, puts down a two dollar bill on a number, the wheel turns, he loses.

                        SF!papyrus            You bastards!

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            No.  Calm down.  Learn to ENJOY            losing.

INT. MINT HOTEL SUITE - NIGHT

SF!papyrus walks back into the room.  We hear the LOUD STRAINS OF THREE DOG NIGHT'S "JOY TO THE WORLD."

He walks to the bathroom and opens the door.

INT. MINT HOTEL SUITE BATHROOM - NIGHT

Submerged in green water, GONZO WALLOWS in the steaming tub. Soap labels and grapefruit rinds float on the surface.  A large empty pack of Neutrogena soap lies on the floor.  The shower is on -- the tub overflowing.  THE TAPE RECORDER PLAYS, from where it's plugged into the razor socket over the sink.

SF!papyrus turns off the shower -- notices a HUGE HUNK OF CHEWED UP WHITE BLOTTER.

                        SF!papyrus            You ate ALL THIS ACID?

No answer.

                        SF!papyrus                   (turning down the volume)            You evil son of a bitch.  You            better hope there's some Thorazine            in that bag, because if there's            not, you're in bad trouble.

                        GONZO            Music!  Turn it up.  Put that tape            on.

                                                          45.

                        SF!papyrus            What tape?

                        GONZO            Jefferson Airplane. "White Rabbit."            I want a rising sound.

                        SF!papyrus            You're doomed.  I'm leaving here in            two hours and then they're going to            come up here and beat the mortal            shit out of you with big saps.            Right there in that tub.

                        GONZO            I dig my own graves.  Green water            and the White Rabbit.  Put it on.

                        SF!papyrus            OK.  But do me one last favor, will            you.  Can you give me two hours?            That's all I ask -- just two hours            to sleep before tomorrow.  I            suspect it's going to be a very            difficult day.

He switches on the tape. "WHITE RABBIT" begins to build.

                        GONZO                   (coolly)            Of course, I'm your attorney, I'll            give you all the time you need, at            my normal rates: $45 an hour -- but            you'll be wanting a cushion, so,            why don't you just lay one of those            $100 bills down there beside the            radio, and fuck off?

                        SF!papyrus            How about a check?

                        GONZO            Whatever's right.

SF!papyrus moves the radio as far from the tub as he can and leaves, closing the door behind him.

INT. MINT HOTEL SUITE - NIGHT

SF!papyrus goes across to the sofa and crashes -- exhausted. Suddenly a great ripping and crashing noise in the bathroom.

                        GONZO (V/O)            Help!  You bastard!  I need help!

                                                          46.

SF!papyrus JUMPS up -- crosses to the bathroom door, muttering.

                        SF!papyrus            Shit, he's killing himself!

INT. BATHROOM - NIGHT

SF!papyrus RUSHES IN.  GONZO flails -- trying to reach the radio with the shower curtain pole which he has ripped from its mounts.

                        GONZO                   (snarling)            I want that fucking radio!

SF!papyrus GRABS THE RADIO.

                        SF!papyrus            Don't touch it!  Get back in that            tub!

                        GONZO            Back the tape up.  I need it again!            Let it roll!  Just as high as the            fucker can go!  And when it comes            to that fantastic note where the            rabbit bites its own head off, I            want you to THROW THAT FUCKING            RADIO INTO THE TUB WITH ME!

SF!papyrus stares down at GONZO.

                        SF!papyrus            Not me.  It would blast you through            the wall -- stone dead in ten            seconds and they'd make me explain            it!

                        GONZO            BULLSHIT!  Don't make me use this.

HIS ARM LASHES OUT OF THE WATER, HOLDING THE KNIFE.

                        SF!papyrus            Jesus.

                        GONZO            Do it!  I want to get HIGHER!

SF!papyrus considers this.  He's had enough.

                                                          47.

                        SF!papyrus            Okay.  You're right.  This is            probably the only solution.                   (holds the PLUGGED IN                   TAPE/RADIO over the tub)            Let me make sure I have it all            lined up.  You want me to throw            this thing into the tub when "WHITE            RABBIT" peaks.  Is that it?

GONZO falls back into the water, smiling gratefully.

                        GONZO            Fuck yes.  I was beginning to think            I was going to have to go out and            get one of the goddamn maids to do            it.

                        SF!papyrus            Are you ready?

He switches "WHITE RABBIT" back on.  GONZO HOWLS AND MOANS AND THRASHES TO THE MUSIC, straining to get over the top.

Meanwhile, SF!papyrus picks up a grapefruit from the sink -- a good two-pounder, he gets a grip on it... and when "WHITE RABBIT" peaks... HE HURLS IT INTO THE TUB LIKE A CANNONBALL.

GONZO SCREAMS CRAZILY, THRASHING AND CHURNING -- CAUSING A TIDAL WAVE.

SF!papyrus JERKS THE RADIO CABLE OUT OF THE SOCKET -- SLAMS OUT OF THE BATHROOM.

INT. MINT HOTEL SUITE - NIGHT

SF!papyrus slumps onto the sofa.

SILENCE.

GONZO RIPS OPEN THE BATHROOM DOOR, his eyes unfocused.  HE WAVES THE RAZOR SHARP BLADE out in front of him -- LUNGES at SF!papyrus.  SF!papyrus WHIPS OUT A CAN OF MACE.

                        SF!papyrus            MACE!  YOU WANT THIS?

GONZO stops -- hisses.

                        GONZO            You bastard!  You'd do that,            wouldn't you?

                                                          48.

                        SF!papyrus                   (laughs)            Why worry?  You'll like it.  Nothing            in the world like a Mace high.            Forty-five minutes on your knees            with the dry heaves...

                        GONZO            You cheap honky sonofabitch...

                        SF!papyrus            Why not?  Hell, just a minute ago,            you were asking me to kill you!            And now you want to kill me!  What            I should do, goddamnit, is call the            police!

                        GONZO            The cops?

                        SF!papyrus            There's no choice.  I wouldn't dare            go to sleep with you wandering            around with a head full of acid and            wanting to slice me up with that            goddamn knife!

                        GONZO                   (mumbles)            Who said anything about slicing you            up?  I just wanted to carve a            little Z on your forehead.  Nothing            serious.

GONZO shrugs and reaches for a cigarette on top of the TV set.

                        SF!papyrus                   (menaces him with the MACE)            Get back in that tub.  Eat some            reds and try to calm down.  Smoke            some grass, shoot some smack --            shit, do whatever you have to do,            but let me get some rest.

GONZO turns toward the bathroom -- suddenly sad.

                        GONZO            Hell, yes.  You really need some            sleep.  You have to work.  Goddamn.            What a bummer.  Try to rest.  Don't            let me keep you up.

                                          ��               49.

GONZO shuffles back into the bathroom.  SF!papyrus wedges a chair up against the bathroom doorknob and puts the mace can next to the clock.

SF!papyrus turns on the TV.  WHITE NOISE FILLS THE ROOM.  He collapses onto the sofa and lights up his lightbulb as pipe.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            Ignore the nightmare in the bathroom.            Just another ugly refugee from the            Love Generation.

The WHITE NOISE snow storm on the TV is reflected in his face.  The camera pulls back revealing THE ENTIRE WALL BEHIND HIM TO BE SWIRLING WITH THE FIZZING SNOWSTORM PATTERN.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            My attorney had never been able to            accept the notion -- often espoused            by former drug abusers -- that you            can get a lot higher without drugs            than with them.  And neither have            I, for that matter.

The pattern on the wall changes to A 60'S VISCOUS OIL LIGHTSHOW PATTERN.  With SF!papyrus still sitting in the foreground, the projected image widens to reveal the interior of A HAIGHT ASHBURY DANCE HALL full of DANCING PROTO-HIPPIES.

INT. MATRIX CLUB - NIGHT

A slightly YOUNGER SF!papyrus moves through the throng.  All the action is in a DREAMLIKE SLOW-MOTION.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            I recall one night in the Matrix.            There I was -- a victim of the Drug            Explosion.  A natural street freak,            just eating whatever came by.

A ROAD-PERSON with a big pack on his back is shouting.  The sound of his voice, like his movements, is in slow-motion.

                        ROAD-PERSON            Anybody want some L...S...D...?  I            got all the makin's right here.            All I need is a place to cook.

The camera pushes right into the ROAD-PERSON's mouth.

INT. MATRIX MEN'S ROOM - NIGHT

Still in slow motion, the YOUNGER SF!papyrus is trying to eat a HUGE SPANSULE OF ACID.  With difficulty.

                                                          50.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            I decided to eat only half at first.            Good thinking.  But I spilled the            rest on the sleeve of my red            Pendleton shirt.

SF!papyrus stares at his sleeve, uncertain what to do.  C/U of the door to the men's room as a MUSICIAN enters speaking in slow-motion.

                        MUSICIAN            What's the trouble?

                        SF!papyrus                   (also in slow-motion)            Well, all this white stuff on my            sleeve is LSD.

The MUSICIAN approaches and looks down at SF!papyrus'S arm.  A long pause.

Cut back to tight shot of door as it opens and a very clean- cut, PREPPY, STOCKBROKER TYPE enters.  He freezes in horror. We cut to his POV.  SF!papyrus is standing in the middle of the men's room with the MUSICIAN hunkered down at his side... sucking on his sleeve.  A very gross tableau.  The STOCKBROKER slowly eases out of the room.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            With a bit of luck his life was            ruined -- forever thinking that            just behind some narrow door in all            his favorite bars, men in red            Pendleton shirts are getting            incredible kicks from things he'll            never know.

INT. A BAR - YEARS LATER - NIGHT

The STOCKBROKER LOOKING CONSIDERABLY OLDER sits looking lost, confused, a nervous wreck.  The image flares out in a TV white noise snowstorm.

INT. MINT HOTEL SUITE - NIGHT

SF!papyrus sits staring at the TV.

                                                          51.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            Strange memories on this nervous            night in Las Vegas.                   (he gets up, pours                   himself a drink)            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 and the world.  Whatever it            meant.

SF!papyrus throws open the curtains.  Light streams in.

EXT. 1965 STOCK FOOTAGE

We are in SAN FRANCISCO.  IMAGES OF THE TIME FLOOD IN.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            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.  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...

SF!papyrus'S FACE IS SUFFUSED WITH A SADNESS AND SERENITY WE HAVE NEVER SEEN BEFORE.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            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.

                                                          52.

The memories dissolve into the night skyline of Vegas. Suddenly towering over the casinos is a 200 foot high Nazi shouting "WOODSTOCK ÜBER ALLES!"

INT. MINT HOTEL SUITE - NIGHT

SF!papyrus closes the curtain.  The room is in darkness again.

INT. MINT HOTEL SUITE - DAWN

A harsh door buzzer.  SF!papyrus jerks awake.  Alone.  Looking like shit.  Around him is the wreckage of their stay.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            The decision to flee came suddenly.            Or maybe not.

SF!papyrus opens the door to a BELL BOY with a trolley load of fruit, drinks and flowers... and a smile.

                        BELL BOY            Room service!

The BELL BOY wheels the trolley across the room -- already stacked with EVEN MORE BOXES OF GOODIES.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            Maybe I'd planned it all along --            subconsciously waiting for the            right moment.  The bill was a            factor, I think.  Because I had no            money to pay for it.

SF!papyrus slams the door -- starts FRANTICALLY PACKING.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            Our room service tabs had been            running somewhere between $29 and            $36 per hour, for forty-eight            consecutive hours.  Incredible.            How could it happen?

SF!papyrus sees the DISCARDED WRAPPINGS OF EXPENSIVE, HAND TOOLED LUGGAGE.  A sudden thought.  He rushes to GONZO's room -- empty.  His plastic briefcase remains on the bed...

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            But by the time I asked this            question, there was no one around            to answer.

SF!papyrus opens the briefcase -- finds the .357 MAGNUM inside.

                                                          53.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            My attorney was gone.  He must have            sensed trouble.

                                           QUICK CUT TO:

EXT. LAS VEGAS AIRPORT - DAY

GONZO WAVES GOODBYE as he boards an airplane with a set of brand-new fine cowhide luggage.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            Panic.

INT. CORRIDOR OUTSIDE HOTEL SUITE - DAY

SF!papyrus emerges with his bag and Gonzo's plastic briefcase -- leaves the DO NOT DISTURB sign on the door -- checks both ways, then hurries away down the corridor.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            It crept up my spine like first            rising vibes of an acid frenzy.            All these horrible realities began            to dawn on me.

INT. MINT HOTEL ELEVATOR - DAY

An anxiety ridden SF!papyrus watches the floor numbers as the elevator descends.  He searches his pockets...

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            Here I was, alone in Las Vegas,            with this goddamned incredibly            expensive car, completely twisted            on drugs, no cash, no story for the            magazine.  And on top of everything            else I had a gigantic goddamn hotel            bill to deal with.

SF!papyrus finds a last crumpled $5 bill.

The door opens.  A SECURITY GUARD enters with an OLD LADY IN HANDCUFFS.

SF!papyrus hides the bill -- crams back into the corner.  Doors close.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            I didn't even know who had won the            race.  Maybe nobody.

                                                          54.

INT. MINT HOTEL LOBBY - DAY

SF!papyrus hurries out of the elevator -- eyes on a hovering MANAGER.  Past the curious look of the reception CLERK.

                        SF!papyrus                   (muttering to himself)            How would Horatio Alger have            handled this situation?

EXT. MINT HOTEL - DAY

Motoring, SF!papyrus gives his $5 bill to the HOTEL FRONT DOORMAN with a smile.  The DOORMAN blows a frantic whistle and waves at the CAR BOY.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            Stay calm.  Stay calm.  I'm a            relatively respectable citizen -- a            multiple felon, perhaps, but            certainly not dangerous.

The CAR BOY pulls up with a screech.  SF!papyrus jumps in.  The back seat is stacked with bars of Neutrogena, piles of Mint 400 t-shirts, boxes of grapefruit.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O CONT'D)            Luckily, I had taken the soap and            grapefruit and other luggage out to            the car a few hours earlier.  Now            it was only a matter of slipping            the noose...

SF!papyrus shifts into drive.  Deliverance!

                        CLERK'S VOICE            MR. SF!papyrus!

SF!papyrus freezes.

                        CLERK'S VOICE            Mr. SF!papyrus!  We've been looking for            you!

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            The game was up!  They had me.

                        SF!papyrus                   (to himself)            Well, why not?  Many fine books            have been written in prison.

                                                          55.

Resigned, SF!papyrus turns off the ignition.  A young CLERK arrives breathlessly with a smile and a YELLOW LETTER IN HIS HAND.

                        CLERK            Sir?                   (thrusts out a TELEGRAM)            This telegram came for you.            Actually, it isn't for you.  It's            for somebody named Thompson, but it            says 'care of Papyrus'.  does            that make sense?

                        SF!papyrus                   (barely able to speak)            Yes... It makes sense.

SF!papyrus stuffs the telegram into his top pocket.

The CLERK peers into the car -- sees part of the enormous stash inside.

                        CLERK            I checked the register for this man            Thompson.  We don't show him but I            figured he might be part of your            team.

                        SF!papyrus            He is.  Don't worry, I'll get it to            him.

He fires up the engine -- eases the RED SHARK into low gear.

SECURITY GUARDS are looking across -- sharing a quiet word or two.

                        CLERK            What confused us was Dr. Gonzo's            signature on the telegram from Los            Angeles.  When we knew he was right            here in the hotel.

                        SF!papyrus            You did the right thing.  Never try            to understand a press message.            About half the time we use codes --            especially with Dr. Gonzo.

                        CLERK            Tell me.  When will the doctor be            awake?

                                                          56.

                        SF!papyrus                   (tenses)            Awake?  What do you mean?

SF!papyrus's eyes are on the SECURITY GUARDS -- moving closer.

                        CLERK                   (uncomfortably)            Well... the manager, Mr. Heem,            would like to meet him.  Nothing            unusual.  Mr. Heem likes to meet            all our large accounts... put them            on a personal basis... just a chat            and a handshake, you understand.

                        SF!papyrus            Of course.  But if I were you, I'd            leave the Doctor alone until after            he's eaten breakfast.  He's a very            crude man.

SF!papyrus edges the car forward, but is stopped by the CLERK.

                        CLERK            But he will be available?  Perhaps            later this morning?

                        SF!papyrus            Look.  That telegram was all            scrambled.  It was actually from            Thompson, not to him.  Western            Union must have gotten the names            reversed.  I have to get going.  I            have to get out to the track.

                        CLERK            There's no hurry!  The race is over!

                        SF!papyrus                   (taking off)            Not for me.

He waves the CLERK off the car -- roars away.

                        CLERK            Let's have lunch!

                        SF!papyrus            Righto!

EXT. ROAD OUT OF VEGAS - DAY

SF!papyrus drives the RED SHARK out of Vegas.

                                                          57.

A "YOU ARE LEAVING LAS VEGAS" sign flashes past.

Bob Dylan plays: "Memphis Blues Again -- "Aaww, Mama, can this really by the end...?"

A sign: LOS ANGELES -- 400 miles.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            Jesus, bad waves of paranoia,            madness, fear and loathing --            intolerable vibrations in this            place.  Get out!  The weasels were            closing in.  I could smell the ugly            brutes.  Flee!

SF!papyrus drives fast.

                        SF!papyrus            Do me one last favor Lord: 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.

A sign flashes "YOU CAN RUN BUT YOU CAN'T HIDE."

A patrol car pulls out behind him, lights flashing.

                        SF!papyrus (CONT'D)            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.

The patrol car screams after the RED SHARK.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            Few people understand the psychology            of dealing with a Highway Traffic            Cop.  Your normal speeder will            panic and immediately pull over to            the side.  This is wrong.

SF!papyrus floors the gas pedal.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            It arouses contempt in the cop heart.

THE SPEEDOMETER CLIMBS STEADILY.

                                                          58.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            Make the bastard chase you.  He            will follow.  But he won't know            what to make of your blinker signal            that says you're about to turn right.

SF!papyrus signals right.  The RED SHARK screams at 120 mph.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            This is to let him know you're            looking for a proper place to pull            off and talk.

AN EXIT OFF RAMP: MAX SPEED 25.

SF!papyrus hits the brakes.  The COP brakes.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            It will take him a moment to            realize that he is about to make            180 degree turn at speed... but you            will be ready for it, braced for            the G's and the fast heel toe work.

The patrol car spins and fishtails crazily out of control.

EXT. SCENIC PICNIC AREA - DAY

The patrol car comes skidding around the corner.  SF!papyrus stands beside the RED SHARK, completely relaxed and smiling.

The HIGHWAY PATROLMAN gets out of the car, screaming.

                        HIGHWAY PATROLMAN            Just what the FUCK did you think            you were doing?!

SF!papyrus smiles.

                        HIGHWAY PATROLMAN            May I see your license.

                        SF!papyrus            Of course, officer.

SF!papyrus reaches for it.  And BOTH MEN look down at a beer can -- which SF!papyrus had, somehow, forgotten was in his hand.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            I knew I was fucked.

The COP relaxes -- actually smiles... He reaches out for SF!papyrus's wallet, then holds out his other hand for the beer.

                                                          59.

                        HIGHWAY PATROLMAN            Could I have that, please?

                        SF!papyrus            Why not?  It was getting warm anyway.

The HIGHWAY PATROLMAN takes it, pours out the beer -- glances in the back seat of the RED SHARK.  Amongst the bars of soap... A case of warm beer.  SF!papyrus smiles back at him.

                        HIGHWAY PATROLMAN            You realize...

                        SF!papyrus            Yeah.  I know.  I'm guilty.  I            understand that.  I knew it was a            crime but I did it anyway.  Shit,            why argue?  I'm a fucking criminal.

                        HIGHWAY PATROLMAN            That's a strange attitude.

He looks at SF!papyrus thoughtfully.

                        HIGHWAY PATROLMAN            You know -- I get the feeling you            could use a nap.  There's a rest            area up ahead.  Why don't you pull            over and sleep a few hours?

                        SF!papyrus            A nap won't help.  I've been awake            for too long -- three or four            nights.  I can't even remember.  If            I go to sleep now, I'm dead for            twenty hours.

The HIGHWAY PATROLMAN smiles.

                        HIGHWAY PATROLMAN            Okay.  Here's how it is.  What goes            into my book, as of noon, is that I            apprehended you... for driving too            fast, and advised you to proceed no            further than the next rest area...            your stated destination, right?            Where you plan to take a long nap.            Do I make myself clear?

                        SF!papyrus            How far is Baker?  I was hoping to            stop there for lunch.

                                                          60.

                        HIGHWAY PATROLMAN            Not my jurisdiction.  The city            limits are two point two miles            beyond the rest area.  Can you make            it that far?

                        SF!papyrus            I'll try.  I've been wanting to go            to Baker for a long time.  I've            heard a lot about it.

The PATROLMAN holds the door for SF!papyrus who gets in.

                        HIGHWAY PATROLMAN            Excellent seafood.  With a mind            like yours, you'll probably want to            try the land-crab.  Try the Majestic            Diner.

The PATROLMAN slams the door shut.

EXT. DESERT ROAD - DAY

SF!papyrus drives away -- teeth gritted.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            I felt raped.  The Pig had done me            on all fronts, and now he was going            off to chuckle about it -- on the            west side of town, waiting for me            to make a run for L.A.

SF!papyrus drives past the rest area to an intersection where he signals to turn right into Baker.  As he approaches the turn he sees the HITCHHIKER!  As SF!papyrus slows to make the turn their eyes meet.  SF!papyrus is about to wave -- but the HITCHHIKER drops his thumb.

                        SF!papyrus            Great Jesus, it's him.

SF!papyrus, spooked, SPINS THE RED SHARK round -- ROARS BACK THE WAY HE CAME.

EXT. BAKER TRUCK STOP - DAY

SF!papyrus on the public phone booth -- screaming.

                        SF!papyrus            They've nailed me!  I'm trapped in            some stinking desert crossroads            called Baker.  I don't have much            time.  The fuckers are closing in.            They'll hunt me down like a beast!

                                                          61.

INT. GONZO'S OFFICE - DAY

GONZO sits surrounded by legal papers and law books.  Mexican Day of the Dead masks hang from the walls -- flame-red demons.

                        GONZO            Who?  You sound a little paranoid.

EXT. BAKER TRUCK STOP - DAY

SF!papyrus screams -- sweat pouring.

                        SF!papyrus            You bastard!  I need a lawyer            immediately!

INT. GONZO'S OFFICE - DAY

                        GONZO            What are you doing in Baker?            Didn't you get my telegram?

EXT. BAKER TRUCK STOP - DAY

                        SF!papyrus            What?  Fuck telegrams.  I'm in            trouble.  You worthless bastard.            I'll cripple your ass for this!            All that shit in the car is yours!            You understand that?  When I finish            testifying out here you'll be            disbarred!

INT. GONZO'S OFFICE - DAY

                        GONZO            You're supposed to be in Vegas.  We            have a suite at the Flamingo.  I            was just about to leave for the            airport.

INT. BAKER TRUCK STOP - DAY

SF!papyrus pulls out the telegram from his top pocket.

                        GONZO'S VOICE            You brainless scumbag!  You're            supposed to be covering the National            District Attorney's conference!  I            made all the reservations... rented            a white Cadillac convertible... the            whole thing is arranged!  What the            hell are you doing out there in the            middle of the fucking desert?

                                                          62.

SF!papyrus stares at the telegram.

                        SF!papyrus            Never mind.  It's all a big joke.            I'm actually sitting beside the            pool at the Flamingo.  I'm talking            from a portable phone.  Some dwarf            brought it out from the casino.  I            have total credit!  Can you grasp            that?                   (shouts)            Don't come anywhere near this place!            Foreigners aren't welcome here!

SF!papyrus, breathing heavily, hangs up phone.

EXT. DESERT - DAY

C/U of .357 Magnum cylinder being spun.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            Well.  This is how the world works.

C/U An IGUANA basks in the sun.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            All energy flows according to the            whims of the Great Magnet.

C/U Barrel of the gun.  It fires.  An explosion of desert dirt.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            What a fool I was to defy Him.

The IGUANA sits unfazed.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            Never cross the Great Magnet.  I            understood this now...                   (another blast from                   the gun)            ... and with understanding came a            sense of almost terminal relief.

SF!papyrus stands alone in the vast desert firing at nothing, the thuds of the explosions echo away.

EXT. ROAD INTO VEGAS - DAY

The RED SHARK driving back towards Las Vegas.

                                                          63.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            I had to get rid of The Shark.  Too            many people might recognize it...            ...especially the Vegas Police.                   (tight C/U of SF!papyrus)            Luckily, my credit card was still            technically valid.

PULL BACK TO REVEAL:

SF!papyrus, now driving a white Cadillac Coupe de Ville -- THE WHITE WHALE.

SF!papyrus pushes buttons -- lowers the top.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            This was a superior machine -- ten            grand worth of gimmicks and high            price special effects.  The rear            windows leapt up with a touch like            frogs in a dynamited pond.  The            dashboard was full of esoteric            lights and dials and meters that I            would never understand.

EXT. FLAMINGO HOTEL - AFTERNOON

A GIANT SIGN: THE FLAMINGO WELCOMES THE NATIONAL DA'S CONFERENCE ON NARCOTICS & DANGEROUS DRUGS.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            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.

The WHITE WHALE turns into a VIP parking slot, immediately attended by impressed MINIONS.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            Me and a thousand ranking cops from            all over America.  Why not?  Move            confidently into their midst.

INT. FLAMINGO HOTEL LOBBY - AFTERNOON

SF!papyrus enters -- old Levis, grubby sneakers, 10 peso Acapulco shirt coming apart at the seams, 3 day growth, eyes hidden behind mirror shades.  He heads for the check-in line.

                                                          64.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            My arrival was badly timed.

THE PLACE IS FULL OF COPS.  200 of them, on vacation, all dressed in cut price Vegas casuals: plaid Bermuda shorts, Arnie Palmer golf shirts, and rubberized beach sandals.

Ahead of SF!papyrus -- A POLICE CHIEF argues with the DESK CLERK. The POLICE CHIEF'S AGNEW STYLE WIFE stands to the side, weeping.  The POLICE CHIEF'S FRIENDS stand uneasily around.

                        POLICE CHIEF            What do you mean I'm too late to            register?  I'm a police chief.            From Michigan.  Look, fella, I told            you.                   (waves a POSTCARD)            I have a postcard here that says I            have reservations in this hotel.

                        CLERK                   (prissily)            I'm sorry, sir.  You're on the            "late list." Your reservations were            transferred to the... ah...            Moonlight Motel, which is out on            Paradise Boulevard...

                        POLICE CHIEF            I've already paid for my goddamn            room!

                        CLERK            It's actually a very fine place of            lodging and only sixteen blocks            from here, with its own pool and...

                        POLICE CHIEF            You dirty little faggot!  Call the            manager!  I'm tired of listening to            this dogshit!

FRIENDS restrain the POLICE CHIEF.

                        CLERK                   (solicitously)            I'm so sorry, sir.  May I call you            a cab?

The POLICE CHIEF's screamed insults fade away...

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            Of course, I could hear what the            Clerk was really saying...

                                                          65.

                        CLERK                   (IN SF!papyrus'S IMAGINATION)            Listen, you fuzzy little shithead --            I've been fucked around, in my            time, by a fairly good cross-            section of mean-tempered rule-crazy            cops and now it's MY turn. "Fuck            you, officer, I'm in charge here,            and I'm telling you we don't have            room for you."

SF!papyrus steps to the desk, around the raging POLICE CHIEF.

                        SF!papyrus            Say.  I hate to interrupt, but I            wonder if maybe I could just sort            of slide through and get out of            your way.  Name's Papyrus --            Papyrus.  My attorney made the            reservation.

SF!papyrus snaps a credit card down onto the counter.  EVERYONE goes silent.  The POLICE CHIEF GROUP stares at him like he was some kid of water rat crawling up to the desk.  The CLERK hits the bell for the BELLBOY.

                        CLERK            Certainly, Mr. SF!papyrus!

                        SF!papyrus            My bags are out there in that white            Cadillac convertible.  Can you have            someone drive it around to the room?

ALL EYES turn to the gleaming WHITE WHALE.

                        SF!papyrus            Oh, and could I get a quart of Wild            Turkey, two fifths of Baccardi, and            a night's worth of ice delivered to            my room, please?

                        CLERK            Don't worry about a thing, sir.            Just enjoy your stay.

                        SF!papyrus            Well, thank you.

SF!papyrus gives the POLICE CHIEF a polite smile -- crosses to the elevator -- turns to face the GAWPING COPS -- pops a can of beer and toasts them.  The doors close.

                                                          66.

INT. HOTEL FLAMINGO - CORRIDOR OUTSIDE SUITE - DAY

SF!papyrus rams the key home -- swings the door open.

                        SF!papyrus            Ah, home at last!

INT. HOTEL FLAMINGO SUITE - AFTERNOON

SF!papyrus enters.  The door hits something with a thud.

A 16-year-old GIRL with the aura of an angry Pit Bull.

GONZO stands in the bathroom doorway -- stark naked with a drug-addled grin on his face.

                        SF!papyrus            You degenerate pig!

                        GONZO            It can't be helped.  This is Lucy.                   (laughing distractedly)            You know--like "Lucy In The Sky            With Diamonds."

LUCY eyes SF!papyrus venomously.

                        GONZO            Lucy!  Lucy, be cool, goddamnit!            Remember what happened at the            airport!  No more of that, okay?

LUCY keeps her eyes on SF!papyrus.  GONZO idles over and puts his arm round her shoulder.

                        GONZO            Lucy... this is my client.  This is            Mr. SF!papyrus, the famous journalist.            He's paying for this suite, Lucy.            He's on our side.

SF!papyrus flops onto the sofa.

                        GONZO            Mr. SF!papyrus is my friend.  He loves            artists.

SF!papyrus notices for the first time that the room is full of artwork.  Maybe 40 or 50 portraits, some in oil, some in charcoal, all more or less the same size and same face.

                        GONZO            Lucy paints portraits of Barbra            Streisand.

                                                          67.

                        LUCY            I drew these from TV.

                        GONZO            Fantastic.  She came all the way            down here from Montana just to give            these portraits to Barbra.  We're            going over to the Americana Hotel            tonight to meet her backstage...

SF!papyrus's voice rises above GONZO.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            I desperately needed peace, rest,            sanctuary.  I hadn't counted on            this.  Finding my attorney on acid            and locked into some kind of            preternatural courtship.

                        SF!papyrus            Well, I guess they brought the car            round by now.  LET'S GET THE STUFF            OUT OF THE TRUNK.

SF!papyrus fixes GONZO hard.

                        GONZO            Absolutely, LET'S GET THE STUFF.                   (to LUCY)            Now, we'll be right back.  Don't            answer the phone if it rings.

                        LUCY                   (makes one-fingered                   Jesus freak sign)            God bless.

INT. FLAMINGO HOTEL - CORRIDOR OUTSIDE SUITE - DAY

SF!papyrus collars GONZO -- serious.

                        SF!papyrus            WELL?  What are your plans?

                        GONZO            Plans?

                        SF!papyrus            Lucy.

                                                          68.

                        GONZO                   (struggling to focus)            Shit.  I met her on the plane and I            had all that acid.                   (he shrugs)            You know, those little blue barrels.            I gave her a cap before I realized...            she's a religious freak... Jesus,            she's never even had a drink.

                        SF!papyrus            Well... It'll probably work out.            We can keep her loaded and peddle            her ass at the drug convention.

GONZO stares uneasily at SF!papyrus.

                        GONZO            Listen, she's running away from            home for something like the fifth            time in six months.  It's terrible.

                        SF!papyrus            She's perfect for this gig.  These            cops will go fifty bucks a head to            beat her into submission and then            gang fuck her.  We can set her up            in one of these back street motels,            hang pictures of Jesus all over the            room, then turn these pigs loose on            her... Hell she's strong; she'll            hold her own.

GONZO's face twitches badly.

                        GONZO            Jesus Christ.  I knew you were sick            but I never expected to hear you            actually say that kind of stuff.

                        SF!papyrus            It's straight economics.  This girl            is a god-send.  Shit, she can make            us a grand a day.

                        GONZO            NO!  Stop talking like that.

                        SF!papyrus            I figure she can do about four at a            time.  Christ, if we keep her full            of acid that's more like two grand            a day.  Maybe three.

                                                          69.

                        GONZO            You filthy bastard.  I should cave            your fucking head in.

                        SF!papyrus            In a few hours, she'll probably be            sane enough to work herself into a            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 savagely            penetrated every orifice in her            body with his throbbing,            uncircumcised member.

GONZO starts crying.

                        GONZO            NO!  I felt sorry for the girl, I            wanted to help her!

                        SF!papyrus            You'll go straight to the gas            chamber.  And even if you manage to            beat that, they'll send you back to            Nevada for Rape and Consensual            Sodomy.  She's got to go.

Pause.

                        GONZO            Shit, it doesn't pay to try to help            somebody these days.

A silence.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            The only alternative was to take            her out to the desert and feed her            remains to the lizards.  But, it            seemed a bit heavy for the thing we            were trying to protect: My attorney.

                        GONZO            We have to cut her loose.  She's            got two hundred dollars.  And we            can always call the cops up there            in Montana, where she lives, and            turn her in.

                        SF!papyrus            What?... What kind of goddamn            monster are you?

                                                          70.

                        GONZO            It just occurred to me, that she            has no witnesses.  Anything that            she says about us is completely            worthless.

                        SF!papyrus            Us?

INT. HOTEL FLAMINGO SUITE - SUNSET

SF!papyrus is speaking into the phone in hushed tones.

                        SF!papyrus            Hotel Americana?  I need a            reservation.  For my niece.  Listen,            I need her treated very gently.            She's an artist, and might seem a            trifle highstrung...

In the background GONZO helps LUCY and her paintings out the door.

                        GONZO            Okay, Lucy, it's time to go meet            Barbra...

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            I felt like a Nazi, but it had to            be done.

EXT. ON THE STREETS - A CAB STAND - DUSK

The WHITE WHALE pulls up -- SF!papyrus at the wheel.  GONZO helps LUCY and her paintings from the car.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            Lucy was a potentially fatal            millstone on both our necks.  There            was absolutely no choice but to cut            her adrift and hope her memory was            fucked.

GONZO unrolls a couple of bills -- pays off a CAB DRIVER -- waves to LUCY in the back with her paintings.  She's starting to come down...

GONZO gets back in the WHITE WHALE and slaps his hands together as if washing his hands of the situation.

                        GONZO            Well that's that.  Take off slowly.            Don't attract attention.

                                                          71.

They pull out into traffic.

EXT. LAS VEGAS STREETS - DUSK

                        GONZO            I gave the cabbie an extra ten            bucks to make sure she gets there            safe.  Also, I told him I'd be            there myself in an hour, and if she            wasn't, I'd come back out here and            rip his lungs out.

                        SF!papyrus            That's good.  You can't be subtle            in this town.

                        GONZO            As your attorney, I advise you to            tell me where you put the goddamn            mescaline.

                        SF!papyrus            Maybe we should take it easy tonight.

                        GONZO            Right.  Let's find a good seafood            restaurant and eat some red salmon.            I feel a powerful lust for red            salmon...

The electric WHITE WHALE heads off down the Strip.  The sun's going down behind the scrub hills, a good Kristofferson tune croaks on the radio in the warm dusk.

INT. HOTEL FLAMINGO SUITE - BATHROOM - NEXT MORNING

GONZO throws up in the toilet bowl.

In the background, SF!papyrus opens curtains.  Daylight blinds him.

                        SF!papyrus            Come on, we're going to be late.

GONZO looks up at his sick reflection -- wipes his mouth with a towel.

                        GONZO            This goddamn mescaline.  Why the            fuck can't they make it a little            less pure?  Maybe mix it up with            Rolaids or something.

                                                          72.

INT. HOTEL BALLROOM - DAY

                        EXECUTIVE DIRECTOR                   (crackling and                   booming over the                   lousy sound system)            On behalf of the prosecuting            attorneys of this county, I welcome            you to the Third National DA's            Conference on Narcotics and            Dangerous Drugs.

The EXECUTIVE DIRECTOR -- well groomed, GOP businessman type -- speaks from the podium.  A banner behind him reads: NATIONAL DA'S CONVENTION 1971. "If You Don't Know, Come To Learn... If You Know, Come To Teach."

A BIG MIXED CROWD: TOP LEVEL STRAIGHT COPS, UNDERCOVER NARCS AND OTHER TWILIGHT TYPES -- beards, mustaches and super-Mod dress.  Just because you're a cop, doesn't mean you can't be WITH IT!  However, for every URBAN-HIPSTER there are around 20 REDNECKS.

A dozen big, low-fidelity speakers mounted on steel poles distort and feed back the EXECUTIVE's voice through the room.

At the back, under a loudspeaker, sits SF!papyrus -- $40 FBI wingtips, a Pat Boone madras sportcoat, and an official name tag: Papyrus, PRIVATE INVESTIGATOR, L.A.

GONZO sits beside him.  His name tag: DR. GONZO.  EXPERT, CRIMINAL DRUG ANALYSIS.  He's nervous -- close to the edge.

                        GONZO                   (lowers his voice)            I saw these bastards in Easy Rider,            but I didn't believe they were real.            Not like this.  Not hundreds of them!

                        SF!papyrus            They're actually nice people when            you get to know them.

                        GONZO            Man, I know these people in my            goddamn blood!

                        SF!papyrus            Don't mention that word around here.            You'll get them excited.

                        GONZO            This is a fucking nightmare.

                                                          73.

                        SF!papyrus            Right.  Sure as hell some dope-            dealing bomb freak is going to            recognize you and put the word out            that you're partying with a thousand            cops.

                        COP IN BACK            SSSSHHH!

DR. BLUMQUIST -- a "drug expert" -- takes the stage.

                        DR. BLUMQUIST            We must come to terms with the Drug            Culture in the country... country...            country...

The sound systems echoes.

                        DR. BLUMQUIST (CONT'D)            The reefer butt is called a "roach,"            because it resembles a cockroach...            cockroach... cockroach...

                        GONZO                   (whispers)            What the fuck are these people            talking about?  You'd have to be            crazy on acid to think a joint            looked like a goddamn cockroach!

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            It was clear that we had stumbled            into a prehistoric gathering.

                        DR. BLUMQUIST            Now, there are four states of being            in the cannabis, or marijuana,            society: Cool, Groovy, Hip, and            Square.  The square is seldom if            ever cool.  He is not "with it,"            that is, he doesn't know "what's            happening." But if he manages to            figure it out, he moves up a notch            to "hip."

SF!papyrus and GONZO listen in disbelief.

                        DR. BLUMQUIST (CONT'D)            And if he can bring himself to            approve of what is happening, he            becomes "groovy." After that, with            much luck and perseverance, he can            rise to the rank of "cool." A cool            guy... cool guy... cool guy...

                                                          74.

                        COP IN BACK            Dr. Bloomquist, do you think the            anthropologist, Margaret Mead's            strange behavior of late might            possibly be explained by a private            marijuana addiction?

                        DR. BLUMQUIST            I really don't know, but at her            age, if she did smoke grass, she'd            have one hell of a trip!

Roars of laughter.

                        GONZO            I know a hell of a lot better ways            to waste my time than listening to            this bullshit.

He stands, knocking the ashtray off his chair arm, and plunges down the aisle to the door.

                        COP IN BACK            Down in front!

                        GONZO            Fuck you!  I have to get out!  I            don't belong here!

                        COP IN BACK            Good riddance!

He stumbles from the room.  SF!papyrus turns his attention back to the stage.

The lights go down.  A black & white film -- REEFER MADNESS! -- illustrates his now evangelical talk.

                        FILM NARRATOR            KNOW YOUR DOPE FIEND!  YOUR LIFE            MAY DEPEND ON IT!  You will not be            able to see his eyes because of            Tea-Shades, but his knuckles will            be white from inner tension...

SF!papyrus turns his attention to a 340 pound TEXAN POLICE CHIEF who necks with his 290 pound WIFE beside him.

                        FILM NARRATOR            ... and his pants will be crusted            with semen from constantly jacking            off when he can't find a rape            victim...

                                                          75.

SF!papyrus gazes at the TEXAN and his WIFE. -- Feigning sickness, he gets up, hand over mouth.

                        SF!papyrus            Pardon me, I feel sick.

                        FILM NARRATOR            He will stagger and babble when            questioned.  He will not respect            your badge.  The Dope Fiend fears            nothing.  He will attack, for no            reason, with every weapon at his            command -- including yours...

SF!papyrus heads for the exit.

                        SF!papyrus            Sorry, sick... Beg pardon!  Feeling            sick...

                        FILM NARRATOR            BEWARE.  Any officer apprehending a            suspected marijuana addict should            use all necessary force immediately.            One stitch in time [on him] will            usually save nine on you.

SF!papyrus CRASHES OUT THROUGH THE DOOR.

INT. CASINO BAR - DAY

SF!papyrus sees GONZO at the bar -- talking to a SPORTY LOOKING COP about 40 whose name tag identifies him as a DISTRICT ATTORNEY FROM GEORGIA.

                        DA            I'm a whiskey man myself.  We don't            have much trouble from drugs where            I come from...

                        GONZO            You will.  One of these nights            you'll wake up and find a junkie            tearing your bedroom apart.

                        DA            Naw!

                        GONZO            They'll climb right into your            bedroom and sit on your chest with            big Bowie knives.  They might even            sit on your wife's chest.  Put the            blade right down on her throat.

                                                          76.

                        DA            Not down in my parts.

SF!papyrus joins them.

                        SF!papyrus                   (to WAITRESS)            Rum and ice, please.

                        DA                   (looks at SF!papyrus'S NAME TAG)            You're another one of these            California boys.  Your friend            here's been tellin' us about dope            fiends.

                        SF!papyrus            They're everywhere.  Nobody's safe.            And sure as hell not in the South.            They like warm weather... You'd            never believe it.  In L.A. it's out            of control.  First it was drugs,            now it's witchcraft.

                        DA            Witchcraft?  Shit, you can't mean it!

The BARTENDER cleans his glasses, one ear straining for the conversation.

                        GONZO            Read the newspapers.

                        SF!papyrus            Man, you don't know trouble until            you have to face down a bunch of            these addicts gone crazy for human            sacrifice!

                        DA            Naw!  That's science fiction stuff!

                        SF!papyrus            Not where we operate.

                        GONZO            Hell, in Malibu alone, these            goddamn Satan worshippers kill six            or eight people every day.  All            they want is the blood.  They'll            take people right off the street if            they have to.

                                                          77.

                        SF!papyrus            Just the other day we had a case            where they grabbed a girl right out            of a McDonald's hamburger stand.            She was a waitress, about sixteen            years old... with a lot of people            watching, too!

The BARTENDER keeps cleaning the same glass -- more and more furiously.

                        DA            What happened?  What did they do to            her?

                        GONZO            Do?  Jesus Christ, man.  They            chopped her goddamn head off right            there in the parking lot!  Then            they cut all kinds of holes in her            head and sucked out the blood!

                        DA                   (DA ad-libs a                   summation of the crime)            And nobody did anything?

                        SF!papyrus            What could they do?  The guy that            took the head was about six-seven,            and maybe three-hundred pounds.  He            was packing two Lugers, and the            others had M-16s.

                        GONZO            They just ran back out into Death            Valley -- you know, where Manson            turned up...

                        SF!papyrus            Like big lizards.

                        GONZO            ... and every one of them stacked            naked...

                        DA            Naked!?

                        SF!papyrus            Naked.

                                                          78.

                        GONZO            Yeh, naked!... except for the            weapons.

                        SF!papyrus            They were all veterans.

                        DA            Veterans?!!!?

Agog with the horrors of the story, the BARTENDER polishes the glass -- faster and faster...

                        GONZO            Yeh.  The big guy used to be a            major in the Marines.

                        DA            A major!

                        GONZO            We know where he lives, but we            can't get near the house.

                        DA            Naw!  Not a major.

                        GONZO            He wanted the pineal gland.

                        DA            Really?

                        GONZO            That's how he got so big.  When he            quit the Marines he was just a            little guy.

                        SF!papyrus            Usually, it's whole families.            During the night.  Most of them            don't even wake up until they feel            their heads going -- and then, of            course, it's too late.

The glass smashes in the BARTENDER's hand.

                        SF!papyrus (CONT'D)            Happens every day.

SF!papyrus turns to a WAITRESS with a warm smile.

                                                          79.

                        SF!papyrus (CONT'D)            Three more rums.  Plenty of ice.            Maybe a handful of lime chunks.

                        WAITRESS            Are you guys with the police            convention upstairs?

                        DA            We sure are, Miss.

                        WAITRESS            I thought so.  I never heard that            kind of talk around here before.            Jesus Christ!  How do you guys            stand that kind of work?

                        GONZO                   (grinning)            We like it.  It's groovy.

The WAITRESS stares -- sickened -- at GONZO.

                        SF!papyrus            What's wrong with you?  Hell,            somebody has to do it.

                        GONZO            Hurry up with those drinks.  We're            thirsty.  Only two rums.  Make mine            a Bloody Mary.

                        DA                   (whacks his fist on                   the bar)            Hell, I really hate to hear this.            Because everything that happens in            California seems to get down our            way, sooner or later.  Mostly            Atlanta.  But that was back when            the goddamn bastards were peaceful.            All we had to do was to keep 'em            under surveillance.  They didn't            roam around much... But now Jesus,            it seems nobody's safe.

                        GONZO                   (with a conspiratorial                   nod)            You're going to need to take the            bull by the horns -- go to the mat            with this scum.

                                                          80.

                        DA            What do you mean by that?

                        GONZO            You know what I mean.  We've done            it before and we can damn well do            it again!

                        SF!papyrus            Cut their goddamn heads off.  Every            one of them.  That's what we're            doing in California.

                        DA                   (stupefied)            WHAT?

                        GONZO            Sure.  It's all on the Q.T., but            everybody who matters is with us            all the way down the line.

                        SF!papyrus            We keep it quiet.  It's not the            kind of thing you'd want to talk            about upstairs.  Not with the press            around.

                        DA                   (recovering slightly)            Hell, no.  We'd never hear the            goddamn end of it.

                        SF!papyrus            Dobermans don't talk.

                        DA            What?

                        GONZO            Sometimes it's easier to just rip            out the backstraps.

                        SF!papyrus            They'll fight like hell if you try            to take the head without the dogs.

                        DA            God almighty!                   (muttering in a daze)            I don't think I should tell my wife            about this.  She'd never understand.            You know how women are.

                                                          81.

SF!papyrus gives the DA a brotherly slap on the back.

                        SF!papyrus            Just be thankful your heart is            young and strong.

SF!papyrus and GONZO leave the stunned DA -- staring into the swirling ice in drink.

INT. HOTEL FLAMINGO SUITE - DAY

SF!papyrus and GONZO fall into the suite in fits of laughter.

GONZO feels the nausea rise suddenly -- heads for the bathroom.  Immediate sounds of retching.

The phone message light is blinking.  SF!papyrus opens a beer, picks up the phone.

                        SF!papyrus            What's the message?  My light is            blinking.

                        CLERK (V/O)            Ah, yes.  Mr. SF!papyrus?  You have one            message: "Call Lucy at the Americana            Hotel, room 1600."

                        SF!papyrus            Holy shit!

SF!papyrus slams the phone down.  GONZO emerges from the bathroom -- looking like death.

                        SF!papyrus            Lucy called.

GONZO sags visibly -- like an animal taking a bullet.

                        GONZO            What?

The telephone rings.  SF!papyrus answers.

INT. FLAMINGO HOTEL - RECEPTION - DAY

A worried CLERK speaks in to the phone.

                        CLERK            Mr. SF!papyrus?  Hello, Mr. SF!papyrus, I'm            sorry we were cut off a moment            ago... I thought I should call            again, because I was wondering...

                                                          82.

INT. FLAMINGO HOTEL SUITE - DAY

                        SF!papyrus            WHAT?                   (hand over the PHONE)            What was that crazy bitch said to            him?                   (screams)            There's a war on, man!  People are            being killed!

                        CLERK (V/O)            Killed?

                        SF!papyrus            IN VIETNAM!  ON THE GODDAMN            TELEVISION!

                        CLERK (V/O)            Oh... yes... yes... This terrible            war.  When will it end?

                        SF!papyrus            Tell me.  What do you want?

In the background GONZO is upturning a sofa to retrieve his stash from the lining.

                        CLERK (V/O)            The woman who left that message for            you sounded very disturbed.  I            think she was crying...

                        SF!papyrus            Crying?  Why was she crying?

                        CLERK (V/O)            Well, uh.  She didn't say Mr. SF!papyrus.            But since I know you're here with            the Police Convention...

                        SF!papyrus            Look, you want to be gentle with            that woman if she ever calls again.            We're watching her very carefully...            this woman has been into laudanum.            It's a controlled experiment, but I            suspect we'll need your cooperation            before this thing is over.

                        CLERK (V/O)                   (hesitantly)            Well, certainly... We're always            happy to cooperate with the police...

                                                          83.

                        SF!papyrus            Don't worry.  You're protected.            Just treat this poor woman like            you'd treat any other human being            in trouble.

                        CLERK (V/O)            What?  Ah... yes, yes, I see what            you mean... Yes... so, you'll be            responsible then?

                        SF!papyrus            Of course.  And now I have to get            back to the news.  Send up some ice.

He hangs up.  GONZO zaps TV channels -- commercials.

                        GONZO            Good work.  They'll treat us like            goddamn lepers after that.

                        SF!papyrus                   (slowly, carefully)            Lucy is looking for you.

                        GONZO                   (laughing)            No, she's looking for you.

                        SF!papyrus            Me?

                        GONZO            She really flipped over you.  The            only way I could get rid of her was            by saying you were taking me out to            the desert for a showdown -- that            you wanted me out of the way so you            could have her all to yourself.                   (laughing again)            I guess she figures you won.  That            phone message wasn't for me, was it?

A look of stunned realization from SF!papyrus...

INT. FANTASY COURT ROOM - DAY

LUCY is on the witness stand.

                        LUCY            Yessir, those two men in the dock            are the ones who gave me the LSD            and took me to the hotel.

                                                          84.

A doomed SF!papyrus and GONZO await their fate.

                        LUCY            I don't know for sure what they            done to me, but I remember it was            horrible.

                        JUDGE            Twenty years... and Double            Castration!

The JUDGE bangs his gavel.

INT. HOTEL FLAMINGO SUITE - DAY

SF!papyrus is madly stuffing his suitcase.

                        GONZO            Wait!  You can't leave me alone in            this snake pit.  This room is in my            name.

SF!papyrus KEEPS PACKING.  GONZO is looking worried.

                        GONZO            OK, goddamnit!... Look... I'll call            her.  I'll get her off our backs.            You're right.  She's my problem.

                        SF!papyrus            It's gone too far.

                        GONZO            Relax.  Let me handle this.                   (dials the PHONE,                   snaps angrily at SF!papyrus)            You'd make a piss-poor lawyer.            ...Room 1600, please.                   (to SF!papyrus)            As your attorney, I advise you not            to worry.                   (nods towards bathroom)            Take a hit out of that little brown            bottle in my shaving kit.

SF!papyrus goes in the bathroom.  He finds a little bottle -- a label: "DRINK ME."

                        SF!papyrus            What is this?

                                                          85.

                        GONZO            You won't need much.  Just a little            tiny taste, that stuff makes pure            mescaline seem like ginger-beer.            Adrenochrome.

SF!papyrus stares wonderingly at the bottle.

                        SF!papyrus            Adrenochrome...

                        GONZO                   (into PHONE)            Hi, Lucy?  Yeah, it's me.  I got            your message...what?  Hell, no, I            taught the 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, then            pulled all his teeth out...

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            I remember thinking, "Jesus, what a            terrible thing to lay on somebody            with a head full of acid."

SF!papyrus dips a match head into the brown bottle -- studies it -- TASTES IT -- NOTHING -- TASTES SOME MORE...

                        GONZO                   (to PHONE)            But here's the problem.  That            bastard cashed a bad check            downstairs and gave you as a            reference.  They'll be looking for            both of you.  Yeah, I know, but you            can't judge a book by its cover,            Lucy.  Some people are just            basically rotten... Anyway, the            last thing you want to do is call            this hotel again; they'll trace the            call and put you straight behind            bars... no, I'm moving to the            Tropicana right away.  I have to            go, they've got the phone tapped.            Yeah, I know, it was horrible, but            it's all over now... OH MY GOD!            THEY'RE KICKING THE DOOR DOWN!                   (throws the PHONE                   down; shouts)            No!  Get away from me!  I'm innocent!            It was SF!papyrus!  I swear to God!                         (MORE)

                                                          86.

                        GONZO (CONT'D)                   (stomps the PHONE; moans)            No, I don't know where she is.            You'll never catch Lucy!  She's            gone!  I swear, I don't know where            she is!  DON'T PUT THAT THING ON ME!                   (slams the PHONE down)

GONZO sits back in his chair... watching MISSION IMPOSSIBLE.

                        GONZO            Well.  That's that.  She's probably            stuffing herself down the            incinerator about now.  That's the            last we should be hearing from Lucy.                   (fumbling with the                   hash pipe)            Where's the opium?

SF!papyrus stares at the back of GONZO's neck.  SOMETHING VERY STRANGE IS HAPPENING TO HIM...

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            I remember slumping on the bed, his            performance had given me a bad jolt.            For a moment I thought his mind had            snapped -- that he actually believed            he was being attacked by invisible            enemies.  But the room was quiet            again.

SF!papyrus CLUTCHES THE BROWN BOTTLE.

                        SF!papyrus            Where'd you get this?

                        GONZO            Never mind, it's absolutely pure.

                        SF!papyrus            Jesus... what kind of monster            client have you picked up this time?            There's only one source for this            stuff -- the adrenaline gland from            a living human body!

GONZO turns to smile at SF!papyrus.

                                                          87.

                        GONZO            I know, but the guy didn't have any            cash to pay me.  He's one of these            Satanism freaks.  He offered me            human blood -- said it would take            me higher than I've ever been in my            life.                   (laughs -- struts                   round SF!papyrus -- eyes                   bright with expectation)            I thought he was kidding, so I told            him I'd just as soon have an ounce            or so of pure adrenochrome -- or            maybe just a fresh adrenaline gland            to chew on.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            I could already feel the stuff            working on me -- the first wave            felt like a combination of mescaline            and methedrine -- maybe I should            take a swim, I thought...

SF!papyrus sees that GONZO is TOYING WITH HIS HUNTING KNIFE...

                        GONZO            Yeah, they nailed this guy for            child molesting.  He swore he            didn't do it. "Why should I fuck            with children?" he says. "They're            too small." Christ, werewolf is            entitled to legal counsel.  I            didn't dare turn the creep down.            He might have picked up a letter            opener and gone after my pineal            gland!

GONZO JABS WITH THE RAZOR BRIGHT KNIFE.  SF!papyrus'S BODY IS GOING RIGID -- HE SPEAKS THROUGH GRITTED TEETH.

                        SF!papyrus            Why not?  We should get some of            that.  Just eat a big handful and            see what happens.

                        GONZO            Some of what?

                        SF!papyrus                   (spitting words)            Extract of pineal!

                                                          88.

                        GONZO                   (STARING AT SF!papyrus WITH                   A STRANGE SMILE)            Sure.  That's a good idea.  One            whiff of that shit would turn you            into something out of a goddamn            medical encyclopedia.

GONZO GROWS HORNS -- HIS FACE BECOMES A MEXICAN DEMON MASK.

                        GONZO            Man, your head would swell up like            a watermelon, you'd probably gain            about a hundred pounds in two            hours...

A CLOVEN HOOF BURSTS THROUGH GONZO'S SHOE.

                        SF!papyrus            Right!

                        GONZO            ... grow claws... bleeding warts.

GONZO'S CHEST EXPANDS -- BONY RIBS BURSTING HIS SHIRT.

                        SF!papyrus            Yes!

                        GONZO            ... then you'd notice about six            huge hairy tits swelling up on your            back...

A TAIL LASHES, HOOFS STRIKE THE FLOOR.  GONZO TOWERS -- A FLAME RED DEMON!

                        SF!papyrus            Fantastic!

SF!papyrus is now so wire that his hands are CLAWING UNCONTROLLABLY at the bedspread, JERKING IT RIGHT OUT FROM UNDER HIM.  His heels are dug into the mattress with both KNEES LOCKED, EYEBALLS SWELLING.

GONZO-DEMON LOOMS AGAINST THE CEILING.

                        GONZO            you'd go blind... your body would            turn to wax... they'd have to put            you in a wheelbarrow and...

GONZO'S VOICE FADES AWAY -- SF!papyrus'S frenzied gaze reveals GONZO REVERTED TO NORMAL HUMAN SHAPE AND SIZE.

                                                          89.

                        GONZO            Man I'll try about anything; but            I'd never touch a pineal gland.

                        SF!papyrus            FINISH THE FUCKING STORY!  What            happened?!  What about the glands?

GONZO, a small smile on his lips, backs away warily... towards the TV -- NOW A HUNDRED FEET AWAY IN THE DISTANCE...

                        GONZO            Jesus, that stuff got right on top            of you, didn't it.

VEINS stand out on SF!papyrus's forehead.  He is purplish-red. OVER THE TOP!  Too late, he realizes he is NEAR DEATH!

                        SF!papyrus            Maybe you could just... shove me            into the pool, or something...

GONZO shakes his head disgustedly.

                        GONZO            If I put you in the pool right now,            you'd sink like a goddamn stone.            You took too much.  Jesus, look at            your face, you're about to explode.

GONZO sits back down... watching the TV.

                        GONZO            Don't try and fight it, or you'll            get brain bubbles.  Strokes,            aneurysms.  You'll just wither up            and die.

SF!papyrus FALLS TO THE GROUND, WRITHING, CATATONIC, SINKING INTO PARALYSIS.

AND THE SOUND, SUDDENLY AND STRANGELY, OF THE VOICE OF RICHARD NIXON AND HIS DISTORTED FACE ON THE TV SCREEN.

                        NIXON            Sacrifice... sacrifice...            sacrifice...

SF!papyrus PASSES OUT.

BLACK SCREEN

                                                          90.

INT. FLAMINGO HOTEL SUITE - NIGHT

Darkness.  Insanely, somewhere NILSSON plays -- "Put the lime in the coconut and mix em all up..."

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            What kind of rat-bastard psychotic            would play that song -- right now,            at this moment?

SF!papyrus opens his eyes and the hotel suite rushes in.  He lies, awkwardly twisted -- unable to move.  He could have been there days -- months.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            When I came to the general back            alley ambiance of the suite was so            rotten, so incredibly foul.  How            long had I been lying there?  Hours?            Days?  Months?  All these signs of            violence.  What had happened?

SF!papyrus moves his eyes -- taking in his surroundings: Like THE SIGHT OF SOME DISASTROUS ZOOLOGICAL EXPERIMENT involving whisky and gorillas.  Blue and red Christmas tree lights replace lightbulbs, used towels hanging everywhere, pornographic pictures ripped out of a magazine are plastered on a shattered mirror.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            There was evidence in this room of            excessive consumption of almost            every type of drug known to            civilized man since 1544 AD.

SF!papyrus manages to move -- stiffly gets to his bare feet -- HOBBLES ROUND THE TRASHED ROOM like a newly risen ape.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            But 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...

SF!papyrus peers into Gonzo's room -- HIS BED LIKE A BURNED OUT RAT'S NEST -- blackened springs and wires.

                                                          91.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            These were not the hoof prints of            your normal god-fearing junkie.  It            was too savage, too aggressive.

QUICK FLASHBACK:

GONZO SMASHES THE TEN FOOT MIRROR WITH A HAMMER:

BACK IN THE ROOM:

SF!papyrus stares at the smashed mirror.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            Grim memories and bad flashbacks.

In the bathroom, SF!papyrus'S unlaced boots CRUSH BROKEN GLASS IN VOMIT AND GRAPEFRUIT RINDS.

SF!papyrus unzips and pisses.  THERE IN THE TOILET BOWL IS THE MAGNUM .357!

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            Something ugly had happened.  I was            sure of it...

SF!papyrus stares at the golden stream SPLASHING ON THE GUN.

The SOUNDS OF VOMITING come from a closet near the front door.

SF!papyrus looks into the room.  He sees GONZO's ass sticking out of the closet.  He opens his mouth to speak when, IN THE SMASHED MIRROR HE SEES THE FRAGMENTED REFLECTION OF HIMSELF... sleeping on the sofa.

The ominous SOUND OF A KEY TURNING in the room lock.

A hellish scream wakes up the SLEEPING SF!papyrus.  He sees GONZO grappling naked with the maid -- gun to her head.  GONZO is muffling her screams with an ice bag.

                        MAID            Please... please... I'm only the            maid.  I didn't mean nothin!...

                        SF!papyrus                   (jumps up from the                   bed, flashing his                   press badge)            YOU'RE UNDER ARREST!

                                                          92.

                        GONZO                   (to SF!papyrus)            She must have used a pass key.  I            was polishing my shoes in the            closet when I noticed her sneaking            in-so I took her.

SF!papyrus shakes his head.

                        SF!papyrus                   (barks at the MAID)            What made you do it?  Who paid you            off?

                        MAID            Nobody.  I'm the maid!

                        GONZO            You're lying!  You were after the            evidence.  Who put you up to            this -- the manager?

                        MAID            I don't know what you're talking            about!

                        GONZO            Bullshit!  You're just as much a            part of it as they are!

                        MAID            Part of what?

                        SF!papyrus            The dope ring.  You must know            what's going on in this hotel.  Why            do you think we're here?

                        MAID                   (blubbering)            I know you're cops, but I thought            you were just here for that            convention.  I swear!  All I wanted            to do was clean up the room.  I            don't know anything about dope!

GONZO laughs.

                        GONZO            Come on, baby don't try to tell us            you never heard of the Grange Gorman.

                                                          93.

                        MAID            No!  No!  I swear to Jesus I never            heard of that stuff!

                        SF!papyrus            Maybe she's telling the truth.            Maybe she's not part of it.

                        MAID            No!  I swear I'm not!

                        GONZO                   (long pause)            In that case, maybe she can help.

                        MAID            Yes!  I'll help you all you need!            I hate dope!

                        SF!papyrus            So do we, lady.

                        GONZO                   (helping her up)            I think we should put her on the            payroll.  See what she comes up with.

                        SF!papyrus            Do you think you can handle it?

                        MAID            What?

                        GONZO            One phone call every day.  Just            tell us what you've seen.  Don't            worry if it doesn't add up, that's            our problem.

GONZO hustles the MAID to the door.

                        MAID            You'd pay me for that?

                        SF!papyrus            You're damn right.  But the first            time you say anything about this,            to anybody -- you'll go straight to            prison for the rest of your life.            What's your name?

                        MAID            Alice.  Just ring Linen Service and            ask for Alice.

                                                          94.

                        GONZO            Alright, Alice... you'll be            contacted by Inspector Rock.            Arthur Rock.  He'll be posing as a            politician.

                        SF!papyrus            Inspector Rock will pay you.  In            cash.  A thousand dollars on the            ninth of every month.

                        MAID            Oh Lord!  I'd do just about anything            for that!

                        GONZO            You and a lot of other people.

                        SF!papyrus            The password is: "One Hand Washes            The Other." The minute you hear            that, you say "I fear nothing."

                        MAID            I fear nothing.

She repeats the password several times while they listen to make sure she has it right.

                        GONZO            Oh, and don't bother to make up the            room.  That way we won't have to            risk another of these little            incidents, will we?

                        MAID            Whatever you say, gentlemen.  I            can't tell you how sorry I am about            what happened...

                        GONZO            Don't worry, it's all over now.            Thank God for the decent people.

She smiles, repeating to herself "One Hand Washes The Other" as GONZO hangs the DO NOT DISTURB sign and shuts the door.

CUT BACK TO THE PRESENT.

A grimy tape runs through a grunged-up portable tape recorder.

                        GONZO ON TAPE            ... Thank God for the decent people.

                                                          95.

SF!papyrus sits in the middle of the wrecked suite with his mangled tape recorder in front of him.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            Memories of that night are extremely            hazy...

SF!papyrus fast forwards through the tape -- SEARCHING: "Awwww, mama... can this really...be the end...?"

EXT. SAFEWAY SUPERMARKET - DAY

The WHITE WHALE waits -- gleaming -- beautiful.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            There is a definite obligation,            when you boom around Vegas in a            white Coupe de Ville, to maintain a            certain style.

SF!papyrus and GONZO burst out of the supermarket riding a shopping basket loaded with COCONUTS, GRAPEFRUIT and TEQUILA.  They send DEFEATED SHOPPERS sprawling.

The trolley collides into the WHITE WHALE.  SHOPPERS gather at the supermarket entrance to watch -- baskets loaded with junk, SCREAMING KIDS and EMPTY WALLETS.

SF!papyrus switches on the music: JUMPING JACK FLASH.  He selects a coconut -- ceremonially balances it on the hood.  GONZO pulls out a silver claw-hammer.  A sly look at the gathering CROWD... then he smashes the hammer down on the coconut!

A GASP from the surly SHOPPERS.

SF!papyrus places another coconut.  SMASH!  Milk and white meat flies everywhere.

                        SHOPPER #1            Hey!  Is that your car?

                        SF!papyrus            Sure is.

SMASH!  Coconut fragments fly.

                        SF!papyrus            Any of you folks want the milk?            We're after the meat.  This is            honest coconut essence.  Real meat.

SMASH!

                                                          96.

                        SHOPPER #2            Meat, hell!  Look what you're doing            to that car!

                        GONZO            Fuck the car.  They should make            these things with a goddamn FM radio.

SMASH!

                        SF!papyrus            Yeh... This foreign made crap -- is            sucking our dollar balance dry!

                        SHOPPER #3            Someone should stop them!

SMASH!

                        SF!papyrus            You poor fools don't understand, do            you?  This car is the property of            the World Bank!  That money goes to            ITALY!

                        SHOPPER #3            Somebody should call the police!

                        GONZO            Police?  Are you people crazy?

GONZO confronts the CROWD, hammer in one hand, a coconut in the other.

                        GONZO (CONT'D)            You folks every heard of ole            Patrick Henry?  Know what he said?!

Silence -- the CROWD uncomprehending of this STONE DEGENERATE.

                        GONZO (CONT'D)                   (ROARS)            GIVE ME LIBERTY OR GIVE ME DEATH!

GONZO brings the hammer down on the hood.  CLANG!

A gasp from the CROWD.  Getting ugly.

                        GONZO (CONT'D)            In Samoa we LOVE THE CONSTITUTION!

                        SHOPPER #3            Bullshit.

                                                          97.

The CROWD move in.

                        SHOPPER #1            Call the goddamn police!

GONZO SWINGS THE HAMMER.  CLANG!

                        SHOPPER #4            Look what they've done to that            beautiful car!

SF!papyrus jumps in behind the wheel.

                        SF!papyrus            This crowd is not rational.  They            can't relate to us.  Let's go!

A final CLANG!  GONZO jumps in.

SF!papyrus floors the accelerator -- screams at the CROWD.

                        SF!papyrus            You people voted for Hubert Humphrey!            You killed Jesus!

They swerve round and through the CROWD.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            The crowd broke ranks.  Nobody            wants to be run over by a Coupe de            Ville.

INT. HOTEL FLAMINGO SUITE - NIGHT

SF!papyrus FAST-FORWARDS... PLAYS THE TAPE...

                        VOICE ON TAPE            You found the American Dream?  In            this town?

                        SF!papyrus ON TAPE            We're sitting on the main nerve            right now...

INT. BAZOOKO CIRCUS REVOLVING MERRY-GO-ROUND BAR - NIGHT

SF!papyrus and GONZO (wearing a single black glove) talk conspiratorially to a 3RD MAN.  A PLACID ORANGUTAN in a bow tie sits next to him.  THE BAR IS REVOLVING FASTER THAN NORMAL.  SF!papyrus IS INSANELY TALKATIVE -- WIRED!

                                                          98.

                        SF!papyrus            The manager told me a story about            the owner of this place...about how            he always wanted to run away and            join the circus when he was a kid.            Well, now the bastard has his own            circus, and a license to steal, too.

                        3RD MAN            You're right -- he's the model.

                        SF!papyrus            Absolutely!  Pure Horatio Alger...            Say...

INT. FLAMINGO HOTEL SUITE - NIGHT

SF!papyrus playing the tape.

                        SF!papyrus ON TAPE            ... how much do you think he'd take            for the ape?

SF!papyrus fast-forwards again -- searching... TRAFFIC NOISES. SCREECH OF BRAKES.

                        VOICE ON TAPE            Holy God!...

A TERRIBLE GRINDING NOISE.

EXT. CAR RENTAL AGENCY - NIGHT

                        RENTAL AGENT            Holy God!, how did this happen?

                        SF!papyrus            They beat the shit out of it.

                        RENTAL AGENT            The top's completely jammed!

The CAR RENTAL AGENT wrestles with the trashed car.

                        SF!papyrus            Yeah, something's wrong with the            motor...

INT. FLAMINGO HOTEL SUITE - NIGHT

                        SF!papyrus ON TAPE            ... The generator light's been on            red ever since I drove the thing            into Lake Mead on a water test...

                                                          99.

A HUGE SPLASH...

The tape's gone too far.

                        SF!papyrus            No, no.  Shit...

SF!papyrus races the tape BACKWARDS... Then, SIRENS HOWL.

                        SF!papyrus ON TAPE            Where's the ape?  I'm ready to            write a check.

INT. BAZOOKO CIRCUS BAR - NIGHT

SF!papyrus is standing in the middle of A SEMI-DESTROYED BAZOOKO CIRCUS REVOLVING BAR.  Mirrors are broken.  People are recovering from some kind of battle.  THE BAR SPINS MADLY. SF!papyrus IS INSANELY WIRED.

                        3RD MAN            Forget it, he just attacked an old            man... he took a bite out of the            bartender's head!  The cops took            the ape away.

                        SF!papyrus            Goddamnit!  What's the bail?  I            want that ape!  I've already            reserved two first-class seats on            the plane.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            There was every reason to believe            that we had been heading for            trouble, that we'd pushed our luck            a bit far...

INT. WHITE WHALE ON THE STREETS OF LAS VEGAS - NIGHT

GONZO SCREAMS ABUSE out of the window at a Ford alongside the VOMIT STREAKED WHITE WHALE.  SF!papyrus MAKES A SUPERHUMAN EFFORT TO STAY ON THE ROAD.

                        GONZO            Hey there!  You folks want to buy            some heroin?

In the Ford: TWO COUPLES -- MIDDLE-AGED AMERICAN FACES FROZEN IN SHOCK -- stare straight ahead.  GONZO leans out -- close to them.

                                                         100.

                        GONZO            Hey, honkies!  Goddamnit, I'm            serious.  I want to sell you some            pure fucking smack!

No reaction.

                        GONZO            Cheap heroin!  This is the real            stuff!  You won't get hooked.  I            just got back from Vietnam!  This            is scag, folks.  Pure scag!

The lights change.  The Ford bolts.  SF!papyrus keeps pace with them.

                        GONZO            Shoot!  Fuck!  Scag!  Blood!            Heroin!  Rape!  Cheap!  Communist!            Jab it right in your fucking            eyeballs!

The MAN IN THE BACK SEAT suddenly loses control -- enraged, lunges against the glass, trying to get at GONZO.

                        MAN IN CAR            You dirty bastards!  Pull over and            I'll kill you!  God damn you!  You            bastards!

INT. FLAMINGO HOTEL SUITE - NIGHT

BACK IN THE SUITE:

The tapes runs:

                        MAN IN CAR ON TAPE            You dirty bastards!

An ugly squeal of brakes.

                        GONZO ON TAPE            Shit, he was trying to bite me!  I            shoulda maced the fucker!

SF!papyrus fast forwards the tape.  The TAPE MANGLES -- the sounds ski to a halt...

SF!papyrus grabs the nearest tool -- uses it to hook out the tape, then realizes... IT'S GONZO'S RAZOR-SHARP FOLDING KNIFE... A CHILLING MOMENT...

SF!papyrus turns the knife over... THERE'S A DRIED CRIMSON SPOT ON THE BLADE... OR IS IT DRIED MASHED POTATOES?

                                                         101.

READ ON TO FIND OUT!

                        SF!papyrus                   (remembering)            Back door beauty!

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            The mentality of Las Vegas is so            grossly atavistic that a really            massive crime often slips by            unrecognized.

SF!papyrus SCRAPS A LITTLE OF THE CRUST -- TASTES IT...

                        SF!papyrus (V/O CONT'D)            The possibility of physical and            mental collapse is very real... No            sympathy for the devil; keep that            in mind.  Buy the ticket, take the            ride...

HE HEARS THE SOUNDS OF SOMEONE BEHIND BEATEN UP...

                        VOICE OFF            Shit!  Faggot!  Bastard!

EXT. NORTH STAR COFFEE LOUNGE - NIGHT

WHACK!  SHADOWY FIGURES beat up a MAN -- give him A GOOD KICKING.  BRUTAL AND UGLY.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            North Vegas is where you go when            you've fucked up once too often on            The Strip and when you're not even            welcome in the cut-rate Downtown            places.

PAN to reveal a seedy diner -- THE NORTH STAR CAFE in the background.  Through the window -- SF!papyrus and GONZO sit at the counter.

INT. NORTH STAR COFFEE LOUNGE - NIGHT

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            The North Star Coffee Lounge seemed            like a fairly safe haven from our            storms.  No hassles, no talk.  Just            a place to rest and regroup.  I            wasn't even hungry.

GONZO stuffs a hamburger down PAYING NO ATTENTION TO THE BEATING going on outside the window.  SF!papyrus reads a newspaper.

                                                         102.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            There was nothing in the atmosphere            of the North Star to put me on my            guard...

                        GONZO                   (to WAITRESS)            Two glasses of ice water with ice.

The WAITRESS brings the ice water.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            She looked like a burnt out            caricature of Jane Russell.  She            was definitely in charge here...

GONZO gulps down his glass of water and hands her a napkin.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            He did it very casually, but I knew            that our peace was about to be            shattered.

                        SF!papyrus            What was that?

GONZO shrugs.

The WAITRESS stands at the end of the counter with her back to them while she ponders the napkin... She turns.

                        WAITRESS            What is this?

                        GONZO            A napkin.

THE WAITRESS slams the napkin down on the counter.

                        WAITRESS            Don't give me that bullshit!  I            know what it means!  You goddamn            fat pimp bastard.

                        GONZO            That's the name of a horse I used            to own.  What's wrong with you?

                        WAITRESS            You sonofabitch!  I take a lot of            shit in this place, but I sure as            hell don't have to take it off a            SPIC PIMP!

                                                         103.

GONZO GOES VERY VERY STILL AT THIS...

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            Jesus.  I thought, what's happening?

SF!papyrus picks up the napkin.  On it is printed in careful red letters: "BACK DOOR BEAUTY?"

                        SF!papyrus (V/O CONT'D)            The question mark was emphasized.

                        WAITRESS                   (screams)            Pay your bill and get the hell out!            You want me to call the cops?

                        GONZO            Spic pimp?

GONZO's hand goes inside his shirt.  He PULLS OUT THE RAZOR- SHARP HUNTING KNIFE.

GONZO KEEPS HIS EYES ON THE WAITRESS.  He walks about six feet down the aisle and lifts the receiver of the pay phone. He SLICES IT OFF, then brings the receiver back to his stool and sits down.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            I was stupid with shock -- not            knowing whether to run or start            laughing.

                        GONZO                   (casual)            How much is the lemon meringue pie?

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            Her eyes were turgid with fear, but            her brain was functioning on some            basic motor survival level.

                        WAITRESS                   (blurting -- on automatic)            Thirty-five cents!

                        GONZO                   (laughing)            I mean the whole pie.

The WAITRESS MOANS.  GONZO places a $5 BILL on the counter.

                        GONZO            Let's say five dollars.  Okay?

                                                         104.

GONZO walks round the counter TAKING THE PIE OUT OF THE DISPLAY CASE.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            The sight of the blade had triggered            bad memories.  The glazed look in            her eyes said her throat had been            cut.  She was still in the grip of            paralysis when we left.

SF!papyrus IS ROOTED TO THE SPOT.

GONZO urges him out the door.  The camera retreats with them.

The WAITRESS STANDS THERE -- PETRIFIED.  Alone in a lousy bar at night.

INT. FLAMINGO HOTEL SUITE - NIGHT

SF!papyrus's face as he stares at the knife -- remembering...

                        GONZO (V/O)            Drive!  Drive!  Drive!  We have            fifteen fucking minutes to get me            on that plane!

EXT. ROAD ON OUTSKIRTS OF LAS VEGAS - DAY

The WHITE WHALE, looking like shit -- it's TOP HALF UP, TORN, SLAPPING IN THE WIND -- ROARS THROUGH AN INTERSECTION as the light turns red.

DR. GONZO FRANTICALLY PAWS OVER A MAP.

SF!papyrus drives -- SILENT AND FURIOUS -- sick to his stomach with the PSYCHOTIC GONZO.

                        GONZO            What are you doing?  You were            supposed to turn back there!

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            We had abused every rule that Vegas            lived by -- burning the locals,            abusing the tourists, terrifying            the help.  The only chance now, I            felt, was the possibility that we'd            gone to such excess that nobody in            the position to bring the hammer            down on us could possibility            believe it.

SF!papyrus suddenly SLAMS ON THE BRAKES.

                                                         105.

                        GONZO            Jesus Christ!!!

There, crossing the road in front of them, is LUCY -- her paintings under her arm -- looking lost.  SHE LOOKS UP WITH A VAGUE SENSE OF RECOGNITION...

SF!papyrus throws the car into a SKIDDING REVERSE TURN AND ROARS OFF.

EXT. DESERT ROAD OUTSIDE LAS VEGAS - DAY

THE WHITE WHALE TEARS DOWN THE DESERTED FREEWAY.  GONZO looks wildly around.

                        GONZO            Goddamnit!  We're lost!  What are            we doing out here on this            godforsaken road?

GONZO sees that THEY'RE RUNNING PARALLEL WITH THE AIRPORT RUNWAY.

                        GONZO            The airport is over there!

                        SF!papyrus            Never missed a plane yet.

SF!papyrus HITS THE BRAKES and wrenches the wheel -- takes the WHALE down into the grassy freeway divider.  WHEELS CHURNING, HE MAKES IT UP THE OPPOSITE BANK, nose of the car straight up, then BOUNCES ONTO THE FREEWAY and keeps going right OVER A FENCE, dragging it through a cactus field and onto the RUNWAY.

GONZO is FROZEN WITH FEAR -- GRIPPING THE DASHBOARD.  He throws a worried look at SF!papyrus.

                        SF!papyrus            I'll drop you right next to the            plane.

They SPEED UNDER A PARKED AIRPLANE, SHOUTING ABOVE THE JET ENGINE SCREAM.

                        GONZO            No!  I can't get out!  They'll            crucify me.  I'll have to take the            blame!

                                                         106.

                        SF!papyrus                   (irritatedly)            Ridiculous!  Just say you were            hitchhiking to the airport and I            picked you up.  You never saw me            before.  Shit, this town is full of            white Cadillac convertibles.  I            plan to go through there so fast            that nobody will even glimpse the            goddamn license plate.  You ready?

                        GONZO            Why not?  But for Christ's sake,            just do it fast!

EXT. AT THE AIRPLANE - DAY

SF!papyrus SCREECHES UP in front of the DESERT AIR 727.  GONZO JUMPS OUT -- HEADS FOR THE PLANE.

SF!papyrus watches him go -- RELENTS.

                        SF!papyrus            Hey!

GONZO stops -- turns.

                        SF!papyrus            Don't take any guff from those            swine.  Remember, if you have any            trouble you can always send a            telegram to the Right People.

                        GONZO            Yeah... Explaining my Position.            Some asshole wrote a poem about            that once...

GONZO pauses.

                        GONZO            Probably good advice, if you have            shit for brains.

GONZO turns and RACES TOWARDS THE STEPS JUST AS HE IS ABOUT TO ENTER THE PLANE HE PAUSES AND LOOKS BACK...SMILES...AND LEANS FORWARD AND VOMITS.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            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.

                                                         107.

SF!papyrus watches for a second then ROARS AWAY.  PULL BACK WITH THE WHITE SHARK -- LEAVING THE AIRPLANE FAR BEHIND.

INT. FLAMINGO HOTEL SUITE/APOCALYPSE - NIGHT

On the TV an airplane soars thru the sky.  Pull back to find SF!papyrus barricaded in GONZO'S BEDROOM.  He is typing on his typewriter.

                        SF!papyrus            We are all wired into a survival            trip now.  No more of the speed            that fueled that 60's.  That was            the fatal flaw in Tim Leary's trip.            He crashed around America selling            "consciousness expansion" without            ever giving a thought to the grim            meat-hook realities that were lying            in wait for all the people who took            him seriously...

SF!papyrus records like A WAR CORRESPONDENT.  The CAMERA slowly rises -- SF!papyrus alone in the room with the TV SPEWING OUT IMAGES OF WARS AND CIVIL UNREST OF THE 90'S.

                        SF!papyrus            All those pathetically eager acid            freaks who thought they could buy            Peace and Understanding for three            bucks a hit.  But their loss and            failure is ours too.  What Leary            took down with him was the central            illusion of a whole life-style that            he helped create...

RISING HIGHER -- THE WALLS OF THE ROOM APPEAR TO BY 20 TO 30 FEET HIGH.  SF!papyrus SEEMS TO BE AT THE BOTTOM OF A WELL... THE CAMERA RISES UP THROUGH BROKEN TIMBERS...

                        SF!papyrus            ... a generation of permanent            cripples, failed seekers, who never            understood the essential old-mystic            fallacy of the Acid Culture: the            desperate assumption that somebody...            or at least some force -- is            tending the light at the end of the            tunnel.

HIGHER STILL -- SF!papyrus ALONE IN THE ROOM -- AN ISOLATED BOX SURROUNDED BY THE TWISTED METAL AND RUBBLE AND SMASHED NEON SIGNS OF THE DEAD CITY -- A BLASTED LANDSCAPE WITHOUT LIGHT -- SHARDS OF A CIVILIZATION.

                                                         108.

EXT. DESERT HIGHWAY - DAY

A BURNING FLARED-OUT SUN.  The camera pans down to SF!papyrus DRIVING THE WRECKED WHALE.  A piece of the fence flies out of the back seat as he takes a bump.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            There was only one road back to L.A.            US Interstate 15, just a flat-out            high speed burn through Baker and            Barstow and Berdoo, then on to the            Hollywood Freeway straight into            frantic oblivion: safety, obscurity,            just another freak in the Freak            Kingdom.

SF!papyrus sees THE HARDWARE BARN, A RUSTIC OLD FARM BUILDING facing the road with a single gas pump outside and a neon sign that flashes beer.

                        SF!papyrus            Ahhh.  Wonderful.

SF!papyrus PULLS OFF THE ROAD and parks.  Gets out and walks in.

INT. HARDWARE BARN - BAKER, CALIFORNIA - DAY

SF!papyrus enters the DARK, CLUTTERED INTERIOR.  Scattered all about the store are BITS OF AMERICANA... OLD BARRELS, WAGON WHEELS, WOODEN YOKES.  A STUFFED HORSE HANGS FROM THE RAFTERS.  The sunlight shafts through high windows.  AN OLD MAN is repairing an iron pot-bellied stove near the wooden bar.  A NORMAN ROCKWELL PAINTING... ONLY REAL.

                        PROPRIETOR            What'll you have?

SF!papyrus can't quite believe this place -- too good to be true.

                        SF!papyrus                   (doubtfully)            Ballantine Ale...?

THE PROPRIETOR serves the ale up ice cold.  SF!papyrus SMILES AND RELAXES.

                        SF!papyrus            Hard to find it served like this            anymore.

As he drinks, SF!papyrus toys with a rack of key chains -- LITTLE AMERICAN ICONS... A REMINGTON COWBOY, A BUGS BUNNY, A TWEETY PIE, BETTY BOOP, A BASEBALL PLAYER.  The logo on the rack reads: AMERICAN DREAM KEY RINGS.

                                                         109.

                        PROPRIETOR            Where ya comin' from, young man?

                        SF!papyrus            Las Vegas.

                        PROPRIETOR            A great town, that Vegas.  I bet            you had good luck there.  You're            the type.

                        SF!papyrus            I know.  I'm a triple Scorpio.

                        PROPRIETOR                   (trustingly)            That's a fine combination.  You            can't lose.

A LOVELY GIRL appears.  Seeing SF!papyrus, she smiles.  CAN THIS REALLY BE HIS LUCKY DAY?  She approaches him... and... KISSES THE PROPRIETOR.

                        SF!papyrus                   (caught off guard... muttering)            Oh, my God!...

                        PROPRIETOR                   (not understanding)            This is my granddaughter...

                        SF!papyrus                   (recovering)            Don't worry...                   (leans forward in confidence)            ... and I'm actually the District            Attorney from Ignoto County.                   (winks)            Just another good American like            yourself.

A MOMENT.  THE PROPRIETOR'S SMILE DISAPPEARS.

Wordlessly the PROPRIETOR and his GRANDDAUGHTER go to the back of the store -- GET ON WITH THEIR WORK -- IGNORING SF!papyrus.

WHO FEELS ASHAMED.

SF!papyrus puts some money down on the bar and SLOWLY LEAVES.

EXT. HARDWARE BARN - DAY

A CHASTENED SF!papyrus approaches the vomit streaked WHITE WHALE. Gets in -- sits there -- deflated -- miserable...

                                                         110.

A state bus draws up across from the Hardware Barn.

Somberly, SF!papyrus watches as TWO YOUNG MARINES with duffel bags step off -- chatting like TRUE BROTHERS...

SF!papyrus switches on the ignition.  Something rolls off the trembling dash... SF!papyrus catches it...

ONE SINGLE BEAUTIFUL AMYL CAPSULE...

SF!papyrus CRACKS THE AMYL -- INHALES.  THE RUSH MAKES HIM GASP -- TEETH BARED LIKE A MADMAN.

                        SF!papyrus            HOLY SHIT!!!

SF!papyrus GUNS THE ENGINE with a laugh -- leans out -- YELLS AT THE MARINES.

                        SF!papyrus            GOD'S MERCY ON YOU SWINE!

SF!papyrus ROARS AWAY.  AN AMERICAN FLAG FLIES UP FROM THE DEBRIS IN THE BACK SEAT, MADLY UNFURLING ITSELF AS IT SNAGS ON THE CONVERTIBLE-TOP FRAME OF THE TRASHED WHITE WHALE!

AAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!!!

The TWO MARINES look after him CONFUSED.

EXT. DESERT HIGHWAY

SF!papyrus drives fast -- TEETH GRITTED IN FROZEN ECSTASY!!

SF!papyrus CRANKS UP THE TAPE RECORDER.

                        SF!papyrus (V/O)            My heart was filled with joy.  I            felt like a monster reincarnation            of Horatio Alger... a man on the            move... and just sick enough to be            totally confident.

The WHITE WHALE WIPES THE SCREEN BLACK.

AAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!!!

                            END