The good: he can do enough drugs to drop a rhino and still lucidly recall his actions.
The bad: he’s fun to watch, but I wouldn't want to be with him.
The ugly: terrorizing the waitress and chamber maid was going a little too far.
Best line: “I was right in the middle of a fucking reptile zoo, and somebody was giving booze to these goddamn things.”
Runner-up: pretty much every single thing he utters is quotable.
Who else but Raul Duke, Hunter S. Thomson’s wilder alter-ego (which is like calling a group the militant offshoot of Al-Qaeda), could be sent to Las Vegas to cover an obscure off-road race and instead:
1) trashed two hotel rooms to a degree that hotel management probably wished they had booked a convention of death metal bands instead.
2) destroyed two luxury rental cars and an airport fence.
3) missed the race but entered a convention of law enforcement officers with cocaine on his nose while carrying a suitcase full of drugs and a loaded gun.
4) did it all while drinking and ingesting one to three types of drugs simultaneously. (“The ether was wearing off. The acid, long gone. But the mescaline was running strong.”)
5) still managed to get a book out of the experience.
None of that would have been possible if he wasn’t the right man in the right place at the right time. I admire his ability to maintain. Death before unconsciousness!