Oh, wait. You see that?
This is the place, man.
They'll never fuck with us here.

- Where's the ether?
- Hmm?
- Mescaline's not working.
- Oh.

There we go. Right.
Yeah. Why not?
Yeah.

'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.

'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.

'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?

'"What's going on?"
And you hear yourself mumbling.'

Dogs fucked the Pope.
No fault of mine.

'Ether is the perfect drug
for Las Vegas.

'In 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.'