Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas: Part 1, Chapter 6 Summary & Analysis

Many years ago, Duke lived in Big Sur near Lionel Olay, a rich friend who frequently gambled in Reno. One time, Lionel drove his Mercedes to Reno three weekends in a row and took a casino for $15,000. He skipped the fourth weekend, but by Monday morning, the General Manager of the casino called him and offered to fly him out the next weekend, all expenses paid. “The pit-men were bored” without him, the manager said.

Lionel took the offer and flew to Reno the following weekend. By Monday morning, he was $30,000 dollars in the hole and had to borrow a dime from the pilot to call for a ride home from the airport. His debt got him in trouble with “one of the world’s heaviest collection agencies,” and he was forced to sell his business. When even that failed to cover his debt, Lionel “got stomped” and was forced to take out a personal loan. “Gambling,” Duke says, “is a very heavy business—and Las Vegas makes Reno seem like your friendly neighborhood grocery store.”

Duke and Gonzo decide to go to the Desert Inn to see the Debbie Reynolds/Harry James show, and on the way, Duke notices a billboard that reads: “DON’T GAMBLE WITH MARIJUANA! / IN NEVADA: POSSESION—20 YEARS / SALE—LIFE!” Duke isn’t paying attention as he drives, and he runs the car up several curbs along the Strip. Suddenly, two men are yelling at him. “What the hell are you doing?” one screams. “You can’t park here!” Duke looks up and realizes they are in front of the Desert Inn. Gonzo gives the parking attendant five dollars to park the car and they go inside.

Inside the Desert Inn, it isn’t long before Duke and Gonzo “lose control” and are kicked out by security. Back on the Strip, they sniff some more ether and take some mescaline, and then decide to go to Circus-Circus. When they arrive, the ether is beginning to take hold, and it makes them “behave like the village drunkard in some early Irish novel.” Duke bounces off the turnstiles at the entrance and can’t seem to get his money out of his pockets. The ether has made his mind “unable to communicate with [his] spinal column.” The security at the door pushes him inside anyway. “Ether is the perfect drug for Las Vegas,” Duke says. “In this town they love a drunk.”

“Circus-Circus,” according to Duke, “is what the whole hep world would be doing on Saturday night if the Nazis had won the war.” Trapeze artists fly around “half-naked” above the crowded gambling tables. The “action runs twenty-four hours a day” and “the circus never ends.” There are attractions and “funhouse-type booths” everywhere, and for just ninety-nine cents, patrons can “stand in front of this fancy machine” that projects their picture, along with a voice message, two hundred feet tall on a screen high above the strip. Duke is used to seeing strange things, but the image of drunken gamblers in the sky over downtown Las Vegas is getting to him. “No,” says Duke, “this is not a good town for psychedelic drugs. Reality itself is too twisted.”

Circus-Circus even has a bar on a Merry-Go-Round, and as Duke and Gonzo sit and have a drink, the mescaline begins to hit them. “I hate to say this,” says Gonzo, “but this place is getting to me. I think I’m getting the Fear.” Duke won’t hear of it. “Nonsense,” he says. They have come to find the American Dream, and it is not time to quit. “You must realize,” Duke tells Gonzo, “that we’ve found the main nerve.” Duke decides it is best to get Gonzo out of the casino, but Gonzo won’t step off the platform and keeps going around in circles. “Carson City,” Duke thinks. “Twenty years.” Duke approaches Gonzo from behind and pushes him off the carousel. “You fell,” says Duke. “Let’s go.”