Fits right in: Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas.Bad things happen to me whenever I drink pints of Peroni. It's uncanny that bad luck should be associated with such a fine beer amd pints (curously enough smaller glasses do not attract trouble) and it's doubly a tragedy because I'm an Italian citizen who ought to be able to enjoy a national treasure without being haunted by fear. While under the influence of pints of Peroni I have fought a dwarf, bought a racehorse, shared a hotel room for two nights with someone called Joy From Jamaica and taken a phone call from my boss and told her the truth. None of which ended well