Perhaps this is the call you've been waiting for all this time, sir.
Perhaps.
Yeah. Mm-hmm.
Mmm ! Really. All right.
Yeah ? Oh, yeah, yeah. Oh, yeah.
Okay. Bye.
- That was headquarters. They want me to-- - Ahem.
[ Coins Clatter On Ground ]
[ Whispers ] Thank you.
They want me to go to Las Vegas at once...
make contact with a Portuguese photographer named Lacerda.
He'll have all the details.
All l have to do is check into my soundproof suite. He'll seek me out.
- What do you think ? - Sounds like real trouble.
You're gonna need plenty of legal advice before this thing is over.
Oh, yeah.
As your attorney, l advise you to rent a fast car with no top.
And you'll need the cocaine.
Tape recorder for special music.
Acapulco shirts.
Get the hell out of L.A. for at least 48 hours.
- Blows my weekend. - Why ?
'Cause, naturally, l'm gonna have to go with you.
We're gonna have to arm ourselves to the teeth.
Well, why not ?
l mean, if a thing's worth doing, it's worth doing right.
This is the American Dream in action.
Wait !
Shit, we'd be fools not to ride this strange torpedo all the way out to the end.
lndeed. We must do it.
What kind of story is this ?
lt's the Mint 400...
the richest off-road race for motorcycles and dune buggies in the history of organized sport.
lt's a fantastic spectacle...
in honor of some fatback grosero...
who owns the luxurious Mint Hotel in downtown Las Vegas.
At least that's what the press release says.
As your attorney, l advise you to buy a motorcycle.
How else can you cover a thing like this righteously ?
Well, we're gonna have to drum it up on our own.
Pure Gonzo iournalism.
[ Tires Screeching ]
Shit !