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Raoul Duke: Well? What are your plans?
Dr. Gonzo: Plans?
Raoul Duke: The child in the bedroom.
Dr. Gonzo: Oh, Lucy. I met her on the plane. Yeah, she's a religious freak. I gave her a cap before I realized... Jesus, she's never even had a drink before.
Raoul Duke: Well... It'll probably work out. We can keep her loaded and peddle her ass at the drug convention. Yeah. 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, man; she'll hold her own.
Dr. Gonzo: Jesus Christ. I knew you were a sick bastard but I never expected to hear you actually say that kind of stuff, you filthy bastard.
Raoul Duke: Straight economics. This girl is a God-send. Shit, she can make us a grand a day.
Dr. Gonzo: That's ugly, man. Stop talking like that.
Raoul Duke: I figure she can do about four at a time. If we keep her full of acid that's more like two grand a day. Maybe three.
Dr. Gonzo: Hold on, man. What if I just jump you and beat the dog shit out of you? Would that make you feel better? You filthy bastard.
Raoul Duke: Alright listen to men. 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 then savagely penetrated every orifice in her body with his throbbing, uncircumcised member.
Dr. Gonzo: That's so ugly, man!
Raoul Duke: Fuck. Truth hurts.
Dr. Gonzo: That's, argh! Argh! That's argh! Argh! That's argh!
Raoul Duke: Well, you'll go straight to the gas chamber for this one. 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.
Dr. Gonzo: Shit. It doesn't pay to help someone these days.