Fear and Loathing in Las
Reptile eyes (slits)
Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas
next watch this youtube clip on adrenochrome, that is fritz springmeier talking
in the background about the black market drug.
quotes from FEAR AND LOTHING IN LAS VEGAS (pay attention to 'child molestation,
and sacrifice, in this first set quotes he made references to selling a young
girl into white sexual slavery)
He shook his head, struggling to focus on the question. “Shit,” he said finally.
“I met her
on the plane and I had all that acid.” He shrugged. “You know, those little blue
she’s a religious freak. She’s running away from home for something like the
fifth time in six
months. It’s terrible. I gave her that cap before I realized… shit, she’s never
even had a drink!”
“Well,” I said, “it’ll probably work out. We can keep her loaded and peddle her
ass at the drug
convention.” He stared at me.
“She’s perfect for this gig,” I said. “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
pictures of Jesus all over the room, then turn these pigs loose on her… Hell,
she’s strong; she’ll
hold her own.”
"We coaxed Lucy down to the car, telling her that we thought it was about time
meet Barbra”. We had no trouble convincing her that she should take all her
artwork, but she
couldn’t understand why my attorney wanted to bring her suitcase along. “I don’t
embarrass her,” she protested. “She’ll think I’m trying to move in with her, or
“No she won’t,” I said quickly… but that was all I could think of to say. I felt
Bormann. What would happen to this poor wretch when we cut her loose? Jail?
THE ADRENOCHROME DRUG TRIP, IN THE MOVIE, IT SHOWS HIS LAWYER FRIEND TURN INTO A
REPTILIAN WHEN HE TAKES THE ADRENOCHROME
"But the room was quiet again. He was back in his chair, watching Mission
fumbling idly with the hash pipe. It was empty. “Where’s that opium?” he asked.
I tossed him the kit-bag. “Be careful,” I mattered. “There’s not such left.” He
your attorney,” he said, “I advise you not worry.” He nodded toward the
bathroom. “Take a hit
out of that little brown bottle in my shaving kit.”
“What is it?”
“Adrenochrome,” he said. “You won’t need much. Just a little tiny taste.” I got
and dipped the head of a paper match into it.
“That’s about right,” he said. “That stuff makes pure mescaline seem like
go completely crazy if you take too much.” I licked the end of the match.
“Where’d you get this?”
I asked. “You can’t buy it.”
“Never mind,” he said. “It’s absolutely pure.” I shook my head sadly. “Jesus!
What kind of
monster client have you picked up this time? There’s only one source for this
“The adrenaline glands from a living human body,” I said. “It’s no good if you
get it out of
“I know,” he replied. “But the guy didn’t have any cash. He’s one of these
He offered me human blood – said it would make me higher than I’d ever been in
my life,” he
laughed. “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 adrenalin gland to chew on.” I could
already feel the stuff
working on me. The first wave felt like a combination of mescaline and
methedrmne. Maybe I
should take a swim, I thought.
“Yeah,” my attorney was saying. “They nailed this guy for child molesting, but
he didn’t do it. ‘Why should I fuck with children?’ he says; ‘They’re too
small!’” He shrugged.
“Christ, what could I say? Even a goddamn 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
“Why not?” I said. “He could probably get Melvin Belli for that.” I nodded,
barely able to
talk now. My body felt like I’d just been wired into a 220-volt socket. “Shit,
we should get us
some of that stuff,” I muttered finally. “Just eat a big handful and see what
“Some of what?”
“Extract of pineal.” He stared at me. “Sure,” he said. “That’s a good idea. One
whiff of that
shit would turn you into something out of a goddamn medical encyclopedia! Man,
would swell up like a watermelon, you’d probably gain about a hundred pounds in
claws, bleeding warts, then you’d notice about six huge hairy tits swefling up
on your back…” He
shook his head emphatically. “Man, I’ll try just about anything; but I’d never
in hell touch a
pineal gland. “Last Christmas somebody gave me a whole Jimson weed – the root
weighed two pound; enough for a year – but I ate the whole goddamn thiung in
minutes.” The slightest hesitation made me want to grab him by the throat and
force him to talk
faster. “Right!” I said eagerly. “Jimson weed! What happened?”
“Luckily, I vomited most of it right back up,” he said. “But even so, I went
blind for three
days. Christ I couldn’t even walk! My whole body turned to wax. I was such a
mess that they had
to haul me back to the ranch house in a wheelbarrow… they said I was trying to
talk, but I
sounded like a raccoon.”
“Fantastic,” I said. But I could barely hear him. I was so wired that my hands
uncontrollably at the bed spread, jerking it right out from under me while he
talked. My heels
were dug into the mattress, with both knees locked... I could feel my eyeballs
swelling, about to
pop out of the sockets.
“Finish the fucking story!” I snarled. “What happened? What about the glands?”
backed away, keeping an eye on me as he edged across the room. “Maybe you need
drink,” he said nervously. “Jesus, that stuff got right on top of you, didn’t
it?” I tried to smile.
“Well… nothing worse… no, this is worse…” It was hard to move my jaws; my tongue
burning magnesium. “No… nothing to worry about,” I hissed. “Maybe if you could
me into the pool, or something…”
“Goddamnit,” he said. “You took too much. You’re about to explode. Jesus, look
face!” I couldn’t move. Total paralysis now. Every muscle in my was contracted.
I couldn’t even
move my eyeballs, much turn my head or talk.
“It won’t last long,” he said. “The first rush is the worst, ride the bastard
out. If I put you
in the pool right now, sink like a goddamn stone.” I was sure of it. Not even my
lungs seemed to
be functioning. I needed artificial respiration, but I couldn’t open my mouth to
say so. I was
going to die. Just sitting there on the bed, unable to move… well at least
there’s no pain.
Probably, I’ll black out in a few seconds, and after that it won’t matter.
My attorney had gone back to watching television. The news was on again. Nixon’s
filled the screen, but his speech was hopelessly garbled. The only word I could
make out was
“sacrifice.” Over and over again: “Sacrifice… sacrifice… sacrifice” I could hear
heavily. My attorney seemed to notice. “Just stay relaxed,” he said over his
shoulder, with out
looking at me. “Don’t try to fight it, or you’ll start getting brain bubbles…
you’ll just wither up and die.” His hand snaked out to change channels."