Original subtitles

Provided by explosiveskull https://twitter.com/kaboomskull

The thing that astounded me

when I first saw Aspen was that we had so much room here.

It was an individual utopia.

You could dance to the music of your own cash register

and then go off to a concert

while your daughter sat on a rock in the river,

listening to a famous painter talk about art.

It's a lifestyle, it's freedom.

It's freedom of expression, freedom of thought,

that we're really fighting for.

By the end of the '60s,

Aspen had become a corporate utopia,

a valley of the idle rich.

As the new money poured in,

they didn't want dirty hippies moving into Aspen

and frightening away the big spenders.

They are raiding our forest.

They're living like animals.

Mescaline, marijuana, my good God,

this isn't the way of American life.

These freaks will be thrown in jail.

They add nothing to the Valley and take much.

It's in the greed heads' interest

to grind up the Valley and sell it for gravel.

But it's not in my interest.

I'd come to Aspen to escape politics,

but the bastards had gone too far.

And so we decided to do something about it.

The next sheriff of Pitkin County!

Quiet everybody, quiet. The results are coming in.

Precinct one, Ricks.

None of us had even a beginner's knowledge

of how to run a political campaign.

We were like a bunch of wild-eyed amateur mechanics,

rolling a homemade racing car

onto the track in Indianapolis.

Hunter, 182.

We just won the DMS, man!

How did I feel?

Like a man who had started some kind of bloody gang fight

by accident.

But when the going gets weird, the weird turn pro.

My fellow Americans share with me today

the majesty of this moment.

They kept saying, "Break it up, break it up,

go back to your dorms."

And then they all started marching or walking towards us

with their bayonets

and from there it was just chaos.

The guard panicked and fired its weapons indiscriminately,

killing four people.

Lord, we thank you for this fish

and this bounty that we are about to receive.

And, er, Juan and Hunter for catching the fish.

Mm-hmm.

- Good job, Juan. - Good job, Juan.

- Did you have fun? - We had fun.

We saw some raccoons.

What else did we see?

- Deer. - Deer.

Too bad we didn't have our gun when we were fishing, right?

What would we have done to those deer?

- Kill them. - Yeah.

But I don't want deer to die.

They're meat, but they're animals too.

- Mm-hm. - There're humans that's up in their habitat.

I don't understand your logic. Continue.

They're humans to them, we're deer to them.

That is a good point. I like it.

I don't want to kill a nature.

Yeah but you will because otherwise you'll starve to death.

And then I'll bury you out there in the woods.

Can we go back to Frances-cisco?

Juan, this is the most important piece of advice

I'm ever going to give you. Okay?

You looking at me? Right there? In the eyes?

Never move to a big city.

They won't let you take a shit in your own backyard.

Juan uses the potty, right?

Yeah. I shit in the potty.

Juan with a zinger!

"Lax narrative structure needs more personal involvement."

I guess they want me to become a goddam parody of myself.

- Are you okay? What happened? - I just threw up.

Well, I pulled out every single time.

It must be the fish.

The fish look good, physically.

Shut up.

I'm going to go down there tomorrow and

do an investigation.

Somewhere in the nightmare of failure

that is gripping America,

the notion of beating the system

by fighting it gave way to the numb conviction

that it made more sense in the long run to flee or to hide

than to fight the bastards

on anything vaguely resembling their own terms.

We're turning into a nation

of whimpering slaves to fear.

Fear of war, fear of poverty,

and fear of random terrorism.

Fear of getting downsized

or fired because of the plunging economy.

Fear of getting evicted for bad debts

or suddenly getting locked up in a military detention camp

on vague charges of being a sympathizer.

Hey! Your cows are fucking shitting all over my property!

Eating my lettuce!

It's open range!

- Open range? - Wanna keep my cows off of your lawn,

- then build a fence! - Hey!

You hear me? Yeah!

What will our tourists say

when they hear it in the news about Aspen?

This city has gained the reputation of being

the hippie capital of the world.

The smell of marijuana on our street corners,

exhibitionists running around our golf course naked,

LSD dealers lurking behind our schools.

I'll tell you what they're going to say.

"Next year, we're going to Vail."

Next time you come to Vail,

you will find new lifts and new courses,

but the same friendly skiers.

So I don't think the hippies are bad people

but they are bad for business.

I'm sorry, I have a question.

Do you think of Aspen as a town or as a commodity?

If you're trying to make me feel guilty

for promoting our beautiful town,

it's not going to happen.

It is moral and legal to sell a good product

and we've got a good product here, folks.

I don't think the reason that any of us moved here

was to increase the town's GDP.

Okay. Thank you.

Now I'm very interested to hear what our sheriff has cooked up

to keep the freeloaders from setting up shop in this town

and we will all be judging him

come election day.

We don't want a repeat of the summer of love do we?

I don't understand.

Please, please, hey!

How are we supposed to judge him if he's running unopposed?

That's the last question I'll take from Aspen Times.

Sheriff, take it away.

With additional resources, the help of my wife, and...

some chalk from my kids,

I was able to put together the map you see in front of you.

It shows illegal campgrounds,

tenement-style apartments located here, here, here, and there.

There are exactly 844 known transients in Pitkin County

and all but 50 are jobless.

And of course, The Jerome Hotel.

Everybody knows that's where they're congregating.

Most of the problem's...

Right here.

We're getting soft, sheriff.

We're not tough like we used to be.

They're coming into our bars asking for free drinks,

contributing nothing to society.

I told them we don't serve long hairs in here.

- Wrap it up, Ricks. - So I took out old Hickory here

- and I gave him a two-handed... - Okay. Sheriff...

Put it back, wrap it up.

That's enough, Undersheriff Ricks. Folks, I'm sorry about that.

Um... what is that smell?

Ladies and gentlemen, I submit this slag as evidence

that Pitkin Mining Corporation is sodomizing our river.

And I'd like to know what our local government is gonna do about it.

Sheriff, please.

- This is not on the agenda. - Right. The agenda.

You need to submit it three weeks ahead of time

- so we can review it. - Right.

Mine Co. is not breaking the law.

Well, they're certainly violating some type of statute.

I mean go up there and tick around, do your job.

- That's not really what a sheriff does. - Why not?

Well, we have a strict purview.

- Okay, this is not on the agenda. - Strict purview. Purview.

- Sheriff, please. - Purview.

Mr. Thompson, I'm going to have to ask you leave.

Look, from your purview, you mean.

I don't need to go anywhere. I'm here at a town hall forum

- exhibiting my rights... - Undersheriff Ricks,

show this man out.

Oh, you're going to come here and get this, okay come and get it.

Seriously?

I'll show you runs this fucking town, Thompson.

If you're not okay with it being dumped here,

you shouldn't be okay with it being dumped in the fucking river!

You pig.

Burl, loitering, 30 dollar fine, 30 days in jail.

Man, if I knew I was blocking the sidewalk,

- I wouldn't've been standing there. - What'll it be?

I don't have 30 dollars.

Jail it is, Burl.

Del Mar, noise complaint.

30 dollar fine, 30 days in jail.

I was just playing the fiddle.

Very noisily. That's jail, Del Mar.

Thompson, you made bail.

Oh, yeah. Right. Peace joker.

Hey, be free.

You know I pay your goddam salary, Whitmire.

It doesn't get dropped in your mailbox by a stork.

Well, I don't make the laws, I just enforce them.

Yeah, that worked real well at Nuremberg.

- All right, Thompson. - Hey, man,

your badge is a shield because you're supposed to shield us from harm.

All right, Thompson.

So did I make the front page headlines?

Yeah, here's the lead. "Hunter Thompson,

people's champion, ruins janitor's day."

How about, "Today's pig is tomorrow's bacon."

Peggy, those swine are running a racket in there.

Yeah. You got so caught up in national politics

you forgot it's the local stuff that actually socks you.

I mean, you should've seen the freaks in that place.

You know, locked up for absolute bullshit.

Fuckin' playing a fiddle in public, blocking the sidewalk,

or speaking one's mine at a town hall meeting.

Yeah. Speaking of that town hall, if there really are

844 of those freaks hanging around Aspen,

we might as well put them to use.

No one's ever needed more than 700 to win an election around here.

You have enough to start a third party on your hands.

But those freaks can't vote, they're drifters.

Mm. Colorado law.

Only have to have lived here for 30 days.

Huh.

This town needs an animal.

- Oh, no, hey now... - Whoa.

Benton, you look like you could use an anchor rope.

Oh, I have plenty of anchor rope my friend.

- Give that a try. - Thank you very much.

Yes, sir. Good to see ya, Hunter.

This is fucking awful grass, man.

What you're tasting, Hunter, is a little pipe tobacco,

pure pipe tobacco that I soaked in some PCP.

- So don't worry about it, don't worry. - Oh, my God, man.

- Don't waste it, don't waste it! - I'm fucking...

just go out of jail, I'm really not trying to trip right now.

Well, you know, if you just got out of jail...

- Here, one more. - Come by the studio,

you're hanging out with the pigs...

Come on man. Don't hog it.

Okay.

And two packs of Dunhill, please.

So will you be paying cash?

No, just put it on my, um, account.

As per usual.

Hunter, I'm sorry. Come on.

All right, well then give me the bag of and the tampon.

Thanks.

What are you doing playing around with that thing?

I'm a filmmaker.

If you're a filmmaker, what are you doing

working at the grocery store?

Young Ed Wood?

Exactly 844 known transients in Pitkin County.

...to win an election around here.

You have enough to start a third party.

I could be Muhammad Ali.

I could be Muhammad Ali.

I could be Muhammad Ali.

I could be Muhammad Ali.

I could be Muhammad Ali.

I could be Muhammad Ali.

You can get it, you motherfucker!

- I know we can. - Hunter, Hunter, stop. Where have you been?

I was in jail.

You've been in jail? Why didn't you call me?

They didn't even give me a phone call.

This Whitmire motherfucker, Undersheriff,

Dig Nicholas, the whole works.

- Fucked me hard. - You're fucked up.

I have news, good news.

Rolling Stone called.

What did they say?

There's a plane ticket waiting for you at the airport.

You're going to San Francisco.

I don't want to go to San Fran... cisco.

I want to focus on my book

and I'm gonna just stay here and work on the book.

You're going to San Francisco.

If you don't, Juan and I are.

You and Juan are going to San Francisco?

- Oh, yeah. - You look like you're bluffing.

You're going.

Of course I am.

- Hey! - Hunter, thanks for coming out.

- Jann. John. - It's pronounced "Yann,"

pretty sure you already knew that.

My son, his name is Juan.

- Nice to meet you, Han. - Sit down, man, uh...

How's it going? Thanks for bringing me out.

I just read the Derby piece.

Love this subjective, first person,

crazy travelog thing you got going on.

- Yeah? You like it. - What else you been working on?

The last two years...

working on this death of the American Dream book

and chasing the story,

2,000 pages deep,

I'm in Chicago

and those fucking cops, they beat the shit out of me so bad,

gave me such a goddamn concussion that my doctor tells me I can't work on

any more long form journalism.

So I'm writing articles.

Long form, short form.

You can write 500 words. You can write 5,000.

Just, uh, give me a pitch.

What does Hunter Thompson want to write?

I got your pitch.

Why mess with a proven formula?

You could send me across the country,

spitting venomous bullshit at all things

that people love and respect.

And I could go to the Super Bowl, Mardi Gras,

St. Patrick's Day parade, America's Cup,

the DNC convention, maybe even Vegas.

The only thing I can guarantee

is that I'll come back with fear and loathing.

Well um, we're not really in the business of

sending writers out fishing with massive expense tabs

hoping they'll catch a story, you know?

- Yeah? - We just can't afford it.

But if we can narrow it down a bit to something specific...

Well... um...

So you're not into those ideas.

I mean, look.

What about... the weird mechanics of a hostile takeover bid

of a small town?

What's your angle?

My angle is that you're looking at

the next Sheriff of Pitkin County, Colorado.

Oh, well who's going to vote for you?

Who isn't going to vote for me?

All of your people are going to vote for me.

The weirdos, the wobblys, the hippies, the heads,

the bikers, pot heads, progressives.

Most of all, the freaks.

- The freaks? - You should see the freaks.

They're everywhere and they can vote.

People forget that.

500 bucks for 5,000 words.

Deal.

This could change everything. No more rejection letters, and no more spec articles.

I could become a full-time columnist.

It's a good idea.

You were right, Sandy.

You were right.

How much does the Sheriff make?

8,000 dollars a year.

Okay, so you'd still get to write things,

- like parking tickets. - Oh!

My wife.

My wife with the knife.

Power is our priority.

These swine must be broken,

fucked and driven from the land.

All right, so what's the plan, Hunter?

We're gonna stop those ski pants in their tracks.

Well, what are we supposed to do, man? The system's rigged.

We don't vote because there's nothing we can do.

I mean, look what happened to Kennedy.

Peggy, wake up.

I'm running for Sheriff.

We are going to start a third party.

God, Hunter.

- Sounds like fun. - It sounds like a lot of work.

You're at the bar all day already.

Hey, I'm here to bail out Joker

and the rest of those freaks.

You really want to start a third party

or do you just want to start a party?

I mean, it's going to be really fun, but no,

I'm dead fucking serious.

I mean, the house has been prime for the taking.

It's a crazy plan, Hunter.

It's not a crazy plan.

Fuck you.

Joker.

Yeah, brother.

All right, Hunter, what do you need from me?

I need you to make the posters.

- Are you down? - You're really sincere?

I'm sincere. Come on.

Let's do it.

All right. If you're serious, I'm in.

- You know I'm in. - Good.

Propaganda. I'm in.

Time to unite the freak kingdom.

All the decisions we make should be recorded

and available in the public library

for anybody to listen to. No backroom dealing.

Mike has generously offered the bar

as our campaign headquarters.

And as well as using the bar for the campaign,

we'll do a Freak Power Happy Hour.

- Freak Power Happy Hour? - Yeah.

Yeah, and we'll take 10 percent of that

and throw it into the war chest.

- Why do we need money? - Airtime.

I think we can run this campaign for free.

- I think that's the revolution. - No, no, no, no, no.

We need to run propaganda that will make the fatbacks

fear waking up every morning and putting on their radio.

- Aye, aye. - Yes.

And while we're on the subject of flogging the noggins,

when I imagine your campaign poster

I see this giant cyclops owl

with drips coming out of its face and talons.

You know, I had a dream the other night

and I pictured a giant two-thumbed red fist

clenching a peyote button.

- Ooh. - Okay. All right.

We have two weeks left until registration closes.

We need all 844 of our people

to be registered by October second,

and that's not even the hard part.

Then we need to get them to stick around

until November to vote.

And this is the location of all the freaks in town.

We don't need anyone to clean up to vote.

They can vote dirty or naked as long as they turn up.

And do it quietly. We don't want to scare the boujees into a counter attack.

What are you, in high school?

You can't even vote until you're 21.

Yeah, but maybe if Hunter wins,

he can get me out of going to Vietnam.

That's right, Young Wood. Worst case scenario, I will drive you to Canada.

One of the main things I've learned out here

is that there are all kinds of very able people wandering around

with no place to use their energy.

If we can put this unused energy to work,

we'll have a hell of a tool on our hands.

Our movement was a strange combination

of Woodstock vibrations, new left activism,

and basic Jeffersonian democracy

with strong echoes of the Boston Tea Party ethic.

Three words, Hunter S. Thompson.

I was wondering if I could talk to you

about Hunter Thompson's run for Sheriff of Aspen?

I'm Hunter S. Thompson and I'm running for Sheriff.

Are you guys interested in registering to vote?

This blue line represents the Democratic voters.

We've got 920 of those registered in Pitkin County

and then 1,102 Republicans.

And as of right now the Independents

are all the way down here in the 700s.

These Democrats, man, they're DOA, okay?

Two party system's out.

Are you guys gonna register to vote?

I don't know, man.

Voting's just one of those things that, like,

not everybody does, you know what I'm sayin'?

So we're starting a new party. Are you interested in registering to vote?

- No? I'm running for Sheriff. - No.

- No, not really into it. - No? You don't want to register?

- Not really. - No, sorry.

I'm just here for the party.

Really? All right. Be a fuckin' slave then.

Aspen is full of freaks and weird night people

of every description, but most of them

would prefer jail or the bastinado

to the horror of actually registering to vote.

You got no power, you're powerless.

All right, keep goin'.

- I got six. - Oh, well,

I got a grand total of four.

We got 10 at the bar.

I got six, which means an average of one person an hour.

I mean, what did we think? We were going to wave a magic wand and get Hunter elected?

We need to shock them out of their political complacency.

A savage and mind-bending campaign

with no quarter given.

Our posters must torture the outer limits

of political gall.

Our platform so massively unsuitable

and yet perfectly sensible that the good citizens of Aspen

will try to rush us out like lepers

and the most apolitical drug children

of the most degenerate outer communes

will come rushing to our defense saying I must vote.

What we need, what we are is Freak Power.

- Freak Power. - Freak Power, man.

I think that we should ride this wave of votes

that you're going to get to do

some creative ballot measures alongside, you know.

Put an end to this highway they keep talking about,

or use zoning against the greed heads for once.

Like generally make it harder to build

a tar pit next to our river.

You know what would be really great

is if we could come up with some kind of ballot measure

that actually got the long-hairs to show up

and actually pay attention to that part of the ballot.

Tentative platform, 1970.

We will sod the streets at once.

Rip up all city streets with jackhammers

and use the junk asphalt after melting

to create a huge parking and auto storage lot

on the outskirts of town.

We will change the name Aspen

by public referendum to Fat City.

- What for? - To prevent land rapers, greed heads and human jackals

from capitalizing on the name Aspen.

Young Ed Wood over here will now

be attending Fat City High School.

- Fat City Liquor. - Ski Fat City?

Aspen, Colorado would no longer exist,

and the psychic alterations of this change

would be massive in the world of commerce.

Ski Fat City.

Drug sales must be controlled.

My first act as Sheriff will be to install

on the courthouse lawn, a bastinado platform

and a set of stocks in order to punish

dishonest dope dealers in a proper public fashion.

Hunter Thompson's promising affordable housing

to all locals for life.

He plans on banning automobiles from downtown.

Aren't you sick of being harassed by the police?

So do something about it. Vote.

If you get caught with a doobie twice in Colorado,

they can give you the death penalty right now.

Cops should never be armed in public.

By this approach, making hundreds or even thousands

of individuals personally responsible

for protecting the animals, fish and birds who live here,

we would create a sort of de facto game preserve

without the harsh restrictions

that will necessarily be forced on us

if these blood thirsty geeks

keep swarming in here each autumn

to shoot everything they see.

- So we can count on your vote? - Yeah.

Yeah. I'm... I'm voting for Hunter.

- I'll vote for Hunter. - Sign us up.

I'm voting for Hunter Thompson.

- Fat City. - Fat City.

Fat City!

Have you seen this?

Um, yes, I have seen 'em.

But I believe it's best we just leave 'em alone.

- He's more trouble than... - Take it down, Carol.

- ...he's worth. What? - Every last poster, take it down.

Mayor, what you're seeing in front of you here

- is the freedom of speech. - All right, all right. Get out.

- I can't hear it. Go. - All right.

Oh. This is a cross-section of peyote in the center.

- Get out, Carol. - All right.

Uh, lower.

Keep goin'.

What are you doing?

Oh, 72 of our voters were disqualified.

- Did they tell you why? - Some of them forgot to write their age.

Some of them don't live here.

Someone wrote their name in as Teepee Bob?

I don't think those are valid reasons. Okay. Come with me.

I think we should go to the library.

It's Freak Power Happy Hour.

Yeah. We were just gonna get drinks.

Parker's squad is in the library.

Who cares?

It's not their place. Let's go get 'em.

- Show me your hands. Hand up, eyes up. - Hands!

Oh, is that Thompson?

- Peggy. - Ooh, you got us, Ricks.

This is a library for Aspen residents,

this is not a library for transient journalists.

You are the corniest man I've ever met.

You know you can't write, Thompson. Peggy, what are you doing here?

We're researching a story, Ricks. You want the front page?

Why are you hanging out with Peggy so much, Thompson?

- Whole towns wondering. - She's my campaign manager.

I mean, are you gonna arrest us or what?

Let me get back to fucking reading and doing my job.

If you're resisting, I will.

Resisting? Come on, man.

Let us get back to work. Stop wasting our time.

Let's go deputy, 'cause they're doing nothing wrong,

but someday you will be doing something wrong,

and I will make a point of it.

I am not fuckin' around.

Are those uniforms even government issued?

Fuck you!

If this is our competition, I think...

we can call it a night.

The system has a built in wipe-down mechanism for

dealing with unwanted challengers,

political and legal roadblocks which deny innovation.

This person lives in a teepee.

He lives in his gosh darn car.

She just came back from college to vote.

He has no driver's license.

He's a seasonal employee. He's a ski instructor.

They're just passing through. They don't belong.

But our system of government was in fact designed

for change and it was time we made us of that very design.

All in all we found 72 disqualified voters.

Excuse me, wait. Excuse me.

Sorry, nope.

And I'll be recording.

I'd like you to take a look at this.

Yeah, as you can see here.

you don't need to establish physical residency in Aspen

nor do you need a valid ID.

And then here it says very clearly

that any person who files a frivolous claim

against another person's right to vote

commits a misdemeanor in the first degree.

Sheriff Whitmire, it seems as if you've just

witnessed them commit, uh,

10 first degree misdemeanors apiece.

Each of which carries a 30-dollar fine or 30 days in jail.

Fine. You get what you want.

You can keep the 72 voters on the rolls

and we'll get on with business as usual.

No Eve, I can't let you do that.

Folks, you will be arraigned in two weeks from today

in front of the city magistrate. Is that understood?

Okay, enough.

I have stood by you all these years

and if you think I'm gonna sit by and let you turn on me,

- you've got another thing coming. - This is bullshit, Carol.

Just because it's law doesn't mean that you have

to follow it if it's stupid.

You've seen these transients come into our town.

You've seen what they've done to our youth.

You are no longer fit to be Sheriff,

and that is why I will resign and run against you.

What?

Everybody get out of my office.

Now. Everybody out.

Success.

I got it all here.

So we got our 72 votes back

and contrary to a lifetime of experiences,

the law might actually be on my side.

It's not just the 72.

It's not just the 72.

Ricks is running against Whitmire.

Those idiots have split the entire electorate.

Barr any major fuck-ups, a month from now

we're gonna be running the town of Aspen.

Private property.

Yeah.

And don't come back!

The countdown is on us.

I can feel it, an iceberg of loose ends

is about to flip over and dump all these freaks

out of hiding for a national nervous breakdown

with nothing sacred and no-holds-barred

and God's mercy on all those left out in the open.

We're trying to get together a list

of endorsement for Hunter Thompson for Sheriff

and put it on the radio.

Uh, would you be up for that?

Hunter Thompson is the only candidate

who has the imagination and intelligence

to be a law enforcement executive.

Elect Hunter Thompson Sheriff.

If you don't want that person in our government.

We're a clean town that the tourist

is not afraid to come to Aspen.

If Hunter Thompson wins,

we're gonna have murders here.

Hit it, Joker.

Time is running out.

The nation's freaks are no longer willing

to stand politely by, incredulous at the disparity

between what could be done and what is being done.

So why are you doing this?

For the look on Whitmire's face

when I call him my long-haired opponent.

Good as new.

Thank you, Joker.

Absolutely. Thanks for bailing me out.

- Savings on... - Mac...

It's coming on, it's coming on.

All right, here we go, here we go, here it is.

And this is 10 dollars for you from all of us at the hospital.

I appreciate that. Every dollar counts. Thank you.

You guys are doing great tonight,

and I have a special guest for you.

Um, come on out.

- Hello, Aspen, Pitkin County. - Undersheriff...

- Thank you, Eve. - Yes.

Former Undersheriff Ricks is joining us.

He is running against Carol Whitmire

for Sheriff of Pitkin County.

Well thank you Eve for having me this evening.

I'm very excited.

Okay. And what does your plan look like?

Whitmire could not get the transient,

long-haired hippies out of town,

but us blue collar men with our shovels and our pickaxes,

we will promise to clean this town up.

- Oh, dear. - It's an exciting time...

Okay. Let's take another call.

- ...in Aspen. - Thank you for your support.

Huh-hey, uh, this Bud Screw.

I'm down by the school handing out Quaalude

- to all the kiddies. - I'm sorry.

- Oh, another one. - That was weird.

- Hello? - Hello, Miss Eve?

Um, I found your broomstick and it reeks of Whitmire.

Peggy Clifford, Aspen Times.

I was wondering, is this a fundraiser to bail out

your seven friends who were arrested for election fraud?

Is anyone screening these calls?

That's... that's that Thompson crew.

This is nonsense.

And I can tell you one thing, they're not gonna stop at prank calls.

They're going to show up at the ballot boxes.

We're not gonna take it in Aspen.

We're not gonna take it in Pitkin County.

You guys need to show up and vote.

- Hello? - Hello.

This is Martin Boreman.

Thank you for your call...

I believe the Undersheriff's plan to form a posse

is the final solution to Aspen's hippie problem.

What we need is an excuse to access the weapons

that he is stockpiling.

What we need is a flat out ding dong riot.

Heil-ho Mire!

We're gonna cut to commercial.

- Let's cut to commercial. - It was probably one of those hippies with...

Hunter Thompson is a moralist posing as an immoralist.

...whoever gets elected.

But Hunter represents something...

Good job, Young Wood!

Young Wood on the camera!

Young Wood!

The only thing against him is he's a visionary.

He wants too pure a world.

The preceding a paid political announcement

by the Thompson for Sheriff Brigade.

These are real people with real lives.

If this is a joke, you should drop out.

Now. Like right now.

It's the best of both worlds.

I write the article, I win Sheriff.

I mean, it's a good ending to the story.

Trust me.

I do.

- Sort of. - Until the wheels fall off.

Are you okay?

Should we shut this party down?

Hunter, you can't shut this down.

You bought the ticket, you've gotta take the ride.

There aren't enough freaks to vote for me to win.

There aren't enough of them.

Freaks are anyone who isn't making

a million dollars by selling their neighbor's land out from under them.

It's the good and respectable folks

who just want to raise their family here

without being told what to do by a bunch of corporate suits.

And I have much more in common with them

than those other people, you know, I do.

I mean, hunting, freedom, fucking liberty, justice,

stay the fuck off my property.

Walk into the Red Onion and tell them exactly what you just said to me because

what they don't realize is that they're freaks

and if they don't get on board,

their Aspen isn't going to be around very much longer.

All right, so we hit the Red Onion,

we hit the retirement homes, we hit the cowboys,

and we give it to 'em.

I gotta get out of here.

The rising tide is a far bigger thing

than any ephemeral argument about peace or drugs or hair.

We're going to deal with the buggers head on

and on their own turf and beat them.

What does Freak Power mean? Is it some kind of code?

Uh, Freak Power, you know,

it's a crude piece of political theater.

This works, maybe too well at the expense

of the serious action.

Seizing control of the government

and returning it to the hands of the people

who actually live here, not just the land rapers

and the real estate pimps who are trying

to sell this town from under us.

Aspen needs to keep growing.

Yeah, but when things move extremely fast,

they move, you know, recklessly.

As you can see. Just walk around.

All right, Peggy.

There we go.

Shoo.

An impressive performance, Mr. Thompson.

Care to comment for the paper?

I'm incredibly high, Peggy.

Oh God, on what?

The notion of changing the world.

Nice change.

Let's get the fuck outta here.

Hey guys.

Free Rolling Stone. I want you guys to read this

if you want to know what's happening to our town.

Heil-ho Mire!

Man, I think you'd do better buying all these things up.

Buying them up?

Suppressing my own press?

Censoring myself in the interest of victory?

Why would you not wait until the election was over?

No one's going to run an article about a lost election.

Yeah, but you gave up our whole campaign strategy here.

This is supposed to be a campaign

about self-preservation, not self-promotion.

Well think about it this way, you know,

in case we lost, you know, we get our tactics out there

and someone else somewhere, you know, might...

Anyway, we're not going to lose and now the world knows.

Hunter, small towns don't like making headlines.

It only happens when they're destroyed by tornadoes

or they're inhabited by mass murderers.

Incorrect. You guys are absolutely wrong.

Okay. We'll just salvage the campaign now, shall we?

He let his ego write this whole thing.

That fascist haircut's going to his head.

I can run for Sheriff or I can write an article about it.

I don't understand what the problem is,

but apparently it had a negative impact on

the way that people in the town perceived my intentions.

I've never seen you lose a fight that you believe in.

I just feel like up until now you haven't believed in this.

You're right.

All right, you can do it, you bastard.

All right, let's do this.

Contrary to widespread rumors and a plague

of wishful thinking, I, Hunter S. Thompson,

am dead serious about my candidacy for Sheriff

of Pitkin County, Colorado.

The Sheriff's office could be used to good effect.

To help slow development, stop pollution

and end consumer fraud.

My aim is to encourage citizen participation

in government as was advocated by our founding fathers.

We either have a participatory democracy,

or a police state.

The only power we have is the vote.

And as the war rages on in Vietnam

and as civil rights continue to be a deep, dark stain on our nation's history,

I believe we can make it work here in Pitkin County.

Yeah, it blindsided us.

- I don't know, I mean... - Yeah, I'm really sorry, guys.

I had some bills to pay as Young Ed Wood knows.

I have a bit of a fuckin' tab at the, well, everywhere.

And more importantly, I thought I'd get the story out.

Well it seems like it worked out, man.

There's volunteers and reporters from everywhere.

Phones ringing off the hook. We're even getting cash donations for the war chest.

- Really? - Yeah.

Incredible. I thought I'd fucked everything up.

Young Ed Wood!

Listen, if you're going to be skipping school,

at least capture the success story.

You still probably want to check in with Peggy though.

She seems pretty upset.

That article threw her through a loop.

Hey. Hey, Spiro.

Was that a face fart?

Hey.

Can you get Peggy?

Get Peggy.

Hey, um, I'm really sorry Peggy.

That was demented behavior on my behalf, you know?

We should have most definitely put it to a vote.

It just... it wasn't yours to sell.

You gave away our entire strategy.

I fucked up. Can you forgive me?

If you're serious. I mean, do you really want to make this thing work?

Of course I want to make this thing work.

Okay well if you do,

we've given away the element of surprise, so you better ace the debate.

Okay, prison conditions. What do you think about prison conditions?

They need to learn a craft, you know, a trade.

You know, construction, home improvement.

People need to leave prison better citizens

than when they enter prison.

Dear Lord, let me win this election.

Let me take back Aspen.

Be there for me, and I will be there for you.

Um, marijuana.

We're gonna need to lock up all of

the for-profit drug dealers and legalize marijuana

and other drugs in general.

I know exactly what he's doing,

what they're all doing.

They're trying to bring in voters into Aspen

to create some kind of a communist experiment.

That's what they're doin'.

What about these permits for the roads downtown?

Fuck roads. We need to return this town to nature.

Grass is good.

Do you think I'm gonna win?

Maybe you might win or maybe you might not.

I love you.

- I'm ready if you guys are. - I'm set.

Presenting live, the Pitkin County

Sheriff debate of 1970.

Aspen, we've done what we've always done as Westerners.

When we're under siege, what we do is we circle the wagons.

That's who we are.

I mean, I've been here my whole life.

In fact, I used to do this job

with just a flashlight and a smile

and now I have my deputies out there wearing flak jackets.

Ho Chi Minh isn't tunneling under Aspen.

That's Mine Co.

Lookie here, you're about to elect a man

that calls police officers pigs.

The only pig in this town is you.

When I become Sheriff, I will put Thompson in jail,

and that's... that's my promise to you, Aspen.

All right, Glenn, it's 1970, not 1870 all right?

We cannot expect people to have respect

for law and order until we teach respect

to those we've entrusted to enforce those laws.

Well, tell me how you're going to keep the peace

when you're high on marijuana?

I don't really like marijuana.

I much prefer more active things like acid and mescaline.

So what you're telling everybody right now

is that you would use mescaline while you're on duty?

Maybe on the slow nights.

Marijuana laws are one of those reasons

that have engendered this lack of respect

that cops complain about across the country.

You get a whole generation who grew up felons,

who know the law is ridiculous,

but they're told all this gibberish

that dope rots your brain and makes your feet fall off.

I mean even the cops know it's a silly law.

But I did ask you a question.

Carol doesn't know what he's doing.

He wasn't ready for this.

No more land rapes, busts for flute playing.

Fuck the tourists, dead-end the highway

and zone the greed heads out of existence.

Create a town where people can live like human beings

as opposed to slaves to some bogus sense of progress

that's driving us all mad.

I am not going to sit here with this Kentucky fried reject.

- Tell us how you feel, man. - This is my town.

Oh my goodness. What is Ricks doing?

Drop out, Ricks.

Drop out, Ricks.

Okay.

I really don't know about Mr. Thomson's big ideas

and I don't think they really concern the Sheriff.

In fact, I don't think he really wants to be Sheriff,

but I do, so what I say to you

is why don't you play your games somewhere else?

I think Aspen's ready for it.

Not only for a new kind of Sheriff,

but a whole new style of government,

the type of thing Thomas Jefferson had in mind

when he talked about democracy.

Citizens having a real hand in shaping their own destiny.

And in this era of the automatic bureaucratic rebuff,

it may seem radical or even freaky,

but it is the concept on which America was founded.

Pitkin County, Colorado, was about to elect

the nation's first mescaline Sheriff,

a foul-mouthed, bald-headed freak who refused

to compromise on anything at all,

even his taste for wild drugs

and who didn't mind saying in public

that he intended to hamstring, filet

and cripple every greedy plot

the Aspen power structure held dear.

You know, it's an isolated town

with a very unusual kind of population.

We do have a Freak Power base and that's undeniable.

We have about 1,000 votes that would,

if I walked on the streets naked,

bomb in each hand, drugs dripping,

covered in sticky substances known to be foul drugs,

they would still vote for me.

That was brilliant. Thank you for your time, Dr. Thompson.

- Appreciate it. - Good luck.

- Thank you. - Hey Hunter, this guy's from Life.

Life.

They're thinking about giving us the cover.

Nice. All right, Life it is.

Come in.

Glenn, how are you? Have a drink.

Oh. Doing well.

Why, thank you.

Um...

Glenn?

You're going to have to drop out of this race.

So you've never taken me seriously this whole time.

I know you're upset.

I mean, I understand it. It's okay.

You could start a new life somewhere.

I'm not leaving this town and I'm not leaving this race.

You're done Ricks. You're done.

Sit down, Carol.

Have an apple.

You know what I like about you?

You're dependable.

When this whole crazy election is over,

can I depend on you to make sure

this never happens in our town again?

Yes, ma'am.

Good.

You work on "A vote for Ricks is a vote for Thompson."

- Okay. - How about "The status quo is the way to go."?

Nothing says you care like a handwritten note.

Okay, ladies, let's divide up.

I will take Main Street.

We're going to go door to door.

I want you to hand these out.

Don't miss a single person, understand?

Great.

Let's do it.

Door to door.

And try to be very personal, right?

You know, ask them how their kids are doing.

Tell 'em that their biscuits smell good.

Watch out for these questions in here

that ask about occupation and business.

It's classic voter intimidation.

Gotta come together on this.

We need to do whatever it takes to get rid of Hunter Thompson.

- He is bad news for Aspen. - Thank you.

Good to see you, Jack.

Mimeo's broken again.

Then fix it. Problems love solutions.

I'm the only one who does anything around here.

Does anyone know how to fix a Mimeo?

Yeah, I can fix one.

I think... Ah, there.

It was just a little constipated.

All right. Anything else?

Yeah. Where is Hunter?

Muhammad Ali didn't think it was fair

that he needed to go fight a war

against the Vietcong who had never

done anything wrong to him.

So he went to jail and he didn't fight for three years.

Now this is his comeback fight.

We're making a coalition...

Democrats and Republicans are teamin' up.

We have to save our town.

Republican party is droppin' Ricks.

Vote Whitmire. Tell Jim to vote Whitmire.

Vote Whitmire.

Oh, see that right?

That's what they call a counter punch.

That's when someone tries to punch you

and instead of letting them hit you,

you dodge the punch and you hit 'em back. Counter.

Vote Whitmire. You know that. Don't have to tell you.

Oh hey, Jennifer, look at you.

No below the belt.

That was legal.

Good to see ya, Sue.

Okay, listen up, listen up, listen up.

I... I've just learned that Ricks is being dropped.

That means this isn't a three-way race anymore.

The fucking Democrats and Republicans

are teaming up against us.

So if we stand a chance of beating those hypocrites now,

we need every single last one of our voters,

which means our get out the vote operation starts before dawn.

So please...

Finish your drinks and go home. We got a big day tomorrow.

We better get to work.

I'm gonna go home, okay?

Hunter.

It's the last hour.

The race was going to be very close.

After a savage fire-sucking campaign,

the major parties forged an unholy alliance

and expected me to hunker down

like a natural gentlemen and take a beating.

But the '60s were full of examples of good men

challenging the establishment and being assassinated

under mysterious circumstances.

Rumor was we'd be attacked by a lone gunman

or the Hell's Angels or a posse of firefighters

and construction workers or wolverines.

I know the rumors because I started them.

We might not be the law yet,

but we are not to be fucked with.

All right, so, if they try to fuck with us Freaks,

then they suffer the consequences that are due to them.

Tomorrow morning, Aspen's long, smoldering generation gat

exits the trench warfare stages.

As it spills out onto the streets

of the previously peaceful Aspen, the world is watching!

Hell yeah!

Oh, yeah. Oh, yeah.

Saddle up freaks!

Ride 'em up!

Let's take 'em out!

All right, everybody.

Here we go, this is it. Today is the day.

Each one of you is assigned to a precinct.

We are recording every moment, any challenge.

This is American history that we're making.

You hold on to the mescaline.

Don't drink it.

Discard it.

Who are these people?

I don't know, but they either have too many drugs

or not enough.

For heaven's sakes, this is ridiculous.

What the hell is going on?

I don't know. They got here before we did.

Hey Mayor, hey Sheriff.

- Did you see the voters out front? - Yeah.

Were they friendly?

She doesn't look like she's 21.

Excuse me, young lady.

You know you have to be 21 to vote

and you know what happens if you lie?

I know the damn law.

Get out of my way.

You're not gonna call for backup?

You have a good day.

I just want to ensure that we have a free and fair election.

Yes. This has been a very exciting election in Aspen.

I like Hunter Thompson, I think he's a good man.

I really do. I think he's got some real far out ideas.

I happened to vote for uh, Thompson,

because, I don't know, I'd like to see

justice done equally to the rich and the poor.

At least they have some new ideas,

which is more than the old people have.

In truth, we are not really freaks at all,

not in the literal sense but the twisted realities

of the world we are trying to live in

have somehow combined to make us feel like freaks.

We argue, we protest, we petition, but nothing changes.

So now with the rest of the nation

erupting in a firestorm of bombings and political killing,

a handful of freaks are running a final,

perhaps atavistic experiment with the idea

of forcing change by voting.

Now that they see that we're doing that,

we're registering to vote, we are voting,

we're running our own candidates,

oh my God, it's a horror and they're trying to stop it

because we're liable to take it over.

Hunter Thompson is a socialist.

Save our town.

Vote for law and order.

Let's get the long-hairs out of here once and for all.

Deb.

Debs.

They're fucking with our voters at ward two.

You head to ward 12.

There won't be no intimidation!

No intimidation!

- Okay? - Let's get these...

- Handle it! - Yeah!

Maximum savagery!

Okay, all right, if you're not on a telephone

in your hand right now, get out of here, hit the streets.

There are shacks, lodges, communes, hovels

that don't have any phones but they do have voters.

The moment is now people. Get out there.

Citizens, the two party system

is the lie that is killing America.

Rise up, permit no jack-boot thuggery.

Young Wood, take this tranquilizer gun.

Load it and get it ready.

The condition of society

is proof of your criminal negligence

but you won't be long for this world.

That lunatic is refusing to let

that 75-year-old woman cast her ballot

until she shows him her birth certificate.

- What? - Fuck. Man, come on.

Jesus.

I didn't think it'd turn into this.

Oh man, we need to physically remove him.

I'm sorry, ma'am.

- You're a fuckin' mess. - Jesus.

Hey look, your zeal is inspiring

but we're going to have to replace you.

It's for the best interest.

Wood...

Oh! Why did you do that?

You nodded at me to shoot him!

No! I told you to replace as the fucking poll-watcher, man.

- Yeah, man. - Come on.

Get him in the back.

Yeah. Get in there.

Replace the poll-watcher, Wood.

- Fuckin' hell. - Oh, shit there's...

Oh man, and now the fuckin' pigs are here.

Damn. Oink, oink.

Shut the fuck up, man, or you'll be in trouble.

- All right. - Stay in the vehicle, Hunter.

Shut the door. Stay in the vehicle.

I don't know why I'm being pulled over.

All I know is that you can pull someone over if you suspect a crime.

You can't pull me over hoping to find one.

I got one question. Have you been drinking, Hunter?

Maybe mescaline, but you'd have a hard time proving that.

You'd be surprised.

Mike it's not funny.

Who's the guy in the backseat?

Oh, this is our friend.

He's a poet, Alan Ginsburg.

Never heard of him.

Mr. Ginsburg why don't you step out of the vehicle?

Oh, here we go.

Yeah, here we go, Hunter.

Come on, Alan. Let's give the Sheriff an oratory.

Oh, yeah.

What, is this guy trippin'? He's just hopped up?

Where the hell is he goin'?

You know, I... I don't think that was Alan Ginsburg after all.

Are you not gonna help this man?

He's running around like a crazy chicken.

He's your friend.

You know, he was a con man, I'm sure of it.

Good work.

Mr. Ginsburg!

At least we got rid of that lunatic.

- Pigs. - Two birds with one stone.

Alan Ginsburg!

Alan!

Oh, hell.

That's probably not even his name.

All right, we've cached 600 of our voters.

That means we have at least 150 of our Freaks

who have not made it to the polls yet,

and they close in two hours, people.

We need to scour the park benches

or we will lose this thing.

Time to rouse the stragglers with a blizzard of enthusiasm.

This is Hunter S. Thompson and I was wondering

if you were gonna get out and vote today?

Um...

Yes.

The freaky one. That would be me.

Well, that's very disappointing.

Mike will be making some grub.

There'll be satchels of brain rattling drugs for everybody

who wants to end this on a high note.

Okay, okay, okay.

There will be a party but please keep working for now.

I want you working like coal miners

at a cave-in!

Hey. What are you guys doing here?

We came to see you. See how things are going. Have you voted yet?

- Voted? - The polls close soon.

Vote. I have to vote.

Come on, Juan, let's go exercise out constitutional rights.

I'm driving.

Okay. Good idea.

Someone take my cattle prod.

I'm going to vote.

Have you been to the polls yet this afternoon, sir?

All right, we're down to the last two hours.

You're going to have to leave work early

if you want your vote to count.

All right. Thank you very much.

Thanks for your support.

You don't even have any hair.

I mean you had the craziest hair in the world.

This might be our next Sheriff, right there.

Hey. Juan, this is the poll-watcher.

She will be making sure there's no corruption happening.

- How are we doing? - About even.

- Wow. - Yeah.

- You are? - Excellent. You hear that Juan? We're even.

- He is. - Let's go vote.

Good luck, Hunter.

All right, buddy. We need some privacy.

- Here we go. - I know which one to take.

No. First we need to vote.

So who are we gonna vote for?

We've got Ricks.

What do you think about Ricks?

What about Whitmire? Whitmire?

What about Hunter Thompson?

- Is that the one? - Yeah.

- All right, let's vote for him. - But Whitmire I'll steal a cupcake from.

All right, perfect. Here we go.

- Voting sticker, buddy. - Ow.

In the end, we're not all that different.

Okay everyone, phones down.

The polls are now closed.

All right. Thank you all so much for your hard work.

What's done is done. Now we wait.

So let the party commence.

Thank you.

Let's head to the bar!

Oh.

You realize that we are actually gonna win big.

Feel this, we're gonna win big!

If we win it'll be by less than 25 votes.

Politics is addictive.

We must be very careful not to show any signs of addiction.

I think right now, Hunter, what you need is another sip of the mescaline.

I do.

That is not what he needs right now.

Feels good.

Yeah, they believe we're gonna win.

They believe this is the start of a movement.

They believe in you, Hunter.

You gotta decide if you want them

to remember you for all this or for this.

Yeah, but if it wasn't for this, I'd be an accountant.

- Oh, come on. - But it's true.

Say it enough and you might end up believing it.

Well, I'm gonna go to my room.

This is worse than waiting around in the maternity ward.

All right, we'll come get you when you win.

Sheriff.

Hunter, man, you gotta get out here, man.

- Shut up! - You gotta get out here.

- Come on! - Come on, Hunter!

Hunter! Hunter!

My advisors are already gearing up

for the presidential campaign in '72.

They seem to think that I could beat Nixon handily

with the same kind of campaign we ran here.

You gotta get out here, man!

If a Republican town like Aspen can elect a Sheriff

running on a Freak Power platform,

then the vote might still be a viable tool,

and it might still be possible to alter

the mean, fascist drift of this nation

without burning it down in the process.

There he is.

Quiet everybody, quiet. The results are coming in.

Precinct one, Whitmire 182,

Hunter 210.

And for precinct two, precinct two, precinct two!

Ricks 23, Whitmire 131, Hunter 158.

One more, one more, one more, one more!

Okay, all right, precinct three Ricks 10,

Whitmire 137, Hunter 182.

We just won the thing in Aspen!

Relax.

Relax.

Okay, okay, precinct four precinct four.

Whitmire 204, Hunter 173.

Precinct five, 320 for Whitmire, 148 for Hunter.

I think, uh, it doesn't look good.

Precinct six.

Whitmire 300.

Hunter...

90.

The silent majority.

Well...

Anyway, they won't have Hunter S. Thompson

to kick around anymore.

This is bullshit!

No I wouldn't...

Politics, you know?

What do you think you proved?

I think, um, I unfortunately proved

what I set out to prove,

which is that um, you know,

the American dream really is fucked.

No, it's not.

Maybe I didn't prove that.

Maybe I just proved, you know,

there's no place in politics

for a baldheaded lunatic, right?

We ran the county line

between the necessity for winning and the weird possibility

that we could win on our own terms.

And that alone has made this campaign

worth all of the effort.

All the effort.

I won't dwell on the past

but just to say that

this is the best piece of advice I'll ever give you:

if you ever get a chance to sweep

the fat backs off their feet,

don't fuck it up.

We won, we won, we won!

In a democracy, people usually get

the kind of government they deserve

and they deserve what they get.

We love this town!

Winning this election, party lines didn't really

mean much in this county.

We realized that laws, we must have laws,

and we've got to obey these laws

and without laws we've got anarchy.

- To Aspen. - To Aspen.

The day after the polls close,

you can understand why Cinderella

never stayed out after midnight.

Politics is the art of controlling your environment.

That is one of the key things I learned in these years

and I learned it the hard way.

Yeah!

Anybody who thinks that it doesn't matter who's president

has never been sent off to fight and die

in a vicious, stupid war on the other side of the world,

or been beaten and gassed by police

for trespassing on public property,

or been hounded by the IRS for purely political reasons,

or locked up in the Cook County jail

with a broken nose and no phone access

and 12 perverts waiting to stomp your ass in the shower.

That is when it matters who is president

or governor or Sheriff.

That is when you wish you had voted.

Provided by explosiveskull https://twitter.com/kaboomskull