## [ Circus ]
- [ Tires Screech ]
- Oh, wait. You see that ?
This is the place, man.
They'll never
fuck with us here.
Where's the ether ?
Mescaline's not working.
Oh.
There we go.
Right.
[ Mumbles ]
Yeah. Why not ?
[ Groans ]
Yeah.
[ Inhales ]
Mm-hmm.
[ Duke Narrating ]
Ahh. Devil ether.
lt 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.
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.
## [ Continues, Distorted ]
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.
Some angry Rotarian shoves you and
you think, ''What's happening here ?''
-You hear yourself mumbling:
-Dogs fucked the Pope. No fault of mine.
## [ Continues, Distorted ]
Ether is the perfect drug
for Las Vegas.
ln this town they love a drunk.
Fresh meat.
- Come on, buddy. Come on.
- Holy--
So they put us through the turnstiles
and turned us loose inside.
