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Shake up a martini, fire up that smoke, crack open "Hell's Angels" and hop on the back of a gonzo-propelled ride. If you want to REALLY get down and dirty, there are no martinis, just beer on tap or from cans, and you'll end up wearing the same filthy clothes for longer than you thought possible. But we aren't--really--made up of all that oil and hedonism, are we? It's much nicer to watch Hunter get pummeled from a cozy, drunken haze and pretend, isn't it?