Don Roy King has directed fourteen seasons of Saturday Night Live. That work has earned him ten Emmys and fourteen nominations. Additionally, he has been nominated for fifteen DGA Awards and won in 2013, 2015, 2016, 2017, 2018, 2019, and 2020.
[FADE IN on a blue Pong video screen. The player on the left is leading the one on the right, 5-0. The players are heard talking off camera.]
Tom Davis: Yeah, I heard you guys lost to the University of Toronto last night. What was it, 11 to 2?
Al Franken: Yeah, they had this one guy named Bouchard, who was just amazing. He looked like he played pro hockey or something. Boy, he had a great night.
Tom Davis: Sounds like, uh…
[The player on the right misses a shot, making the score 6-0.]
Tom Davis: Sounds like you had it pretty rough last night.
Al Franken: Well, yeah, but I, I scored a goal.
Tom Davis: YOU scored a GOAL? But youre the goalie, right?
[The right-hand player misses again to make the score 7-0.]
Al Franken: Yeah, Im the goalie. Yeah. What happened was, this Bouchard had an incredible slapshot, and he, uh, he hit one real hard, I didnt see it, it hit me right in the cup, you know?
Tom Davis: Wow.
Al Franken: Yeah. Bounced to center ice, and all the way down to the other end, and it skipped past their goalie.
Tom Davis: No kidding!
[The player misses another shot; the score is now 8-0.]
Tom Davis: Boy, I wish I had seen that. Hey, your mouth looks pretty bad, does that still hurt? Franken: A little. Uh, they said the stitches will be out next week, but–
Tom Davis: How did that happen? I heard you got hit with a stick, or something?
Al Franken: Naw, you see this, uh… you know, we didnt have a chance with this Bouchard guy dancing around, you know. So, uh, he came swooshing by my net after he scored his eighth goal, you know? So I just, uh, tapped him a little bit on the head with my stick…
Tom Davis: Right.
Al Franken: Boy, the next thing you know, this Bouchard guys got his gloves on the ice, and hes punching me in the mouth as hard as he can–
[Again, the right-hand Pong player misses for a score of 9-0.]
Tom Davis: Wow!
Al Franken: And get this: the ref throws ME out of the game instead of Bouchard.
[The right-hand player misses an easy shot to make it a 10-0 game.]
Tom Davis: No kidding!
Al Franken: Yeah, he was making bad calls like that all night.
Tom Davis: Wow.
[The player on the right misses still another shot, effectively ending the game at 11-0. The ball and the players suddenly disappear.]
Al Franken: Hey, theres something wrong with my side of the, uh, machine, here…
Tom Davis: Well, lets play another game, and well switch sides.
Announcer: Now, another edition of “Samurai Hotel”.
[ open on Samurai placing hotel visitors’ mail in various room slots, grunting as he pushes each piece in ]
[ Traveler enters ]
Traveler: Excuse me? Excuse me. I’d like a room for the night, please? [ Samurai grunts ] Actually, I’ll probably be staying through to Tuesday. [ Samurai withdraws sword, accidentally knicking his shoulder ] Do you have a king-size bed? One with a king-size bed. [ Samurai extends sword ] I guess, uh.. perhaps, get a room with, uh.. You know what I’d like? A room overlooking the park. Are the rates high for that? [ Samurai yells, motions sword ] Do you have room service? [ Samurai grunts ] Room service. [ Samurai extends sword ] Uh.. what’s your check-out time? [ Samurai makes series of motions with sword across the front desk, as Traveler fills out the log ] Could you get a bellboy to get my bags, please? Carry my bags up?
[ Bellboy approaches front desk, as he and Samurai yell at one another ]
Traveler: Fellas? Which one of you is gonna carry my bags upstairs?
[ Samurai and Bellboy both extend swords, then run toward one another several times, as Traveler waits. Demonstrating his prowess, Samurai uses sword to slice a hanging ornament down from the ceiling. ]
Samurai: Your momma-san!
Bellboy: [ angry ] My Momma-san?!! [ raises sword and slices front desk in half ]
Samurai: [ in the only English he’ll ever speak ] Well, I can dig where you’re comin’ from.. I’ll take these bags up to the room.. [ picks up Traveler’s bags and carries them upstairs ]
[ZOOM in on Shelley. She is at center stage with long, straw-colored hair, an olive green leisure suit, dark slacks, and very long fingernails.]
Shelley Pryor: You know, this being the season to be jolly and everything, Ive written a little story to help you get your jollies… [grins] …and its about my most favorite place in the world, the carousel in Central Park.
[Calliope music starts playing] You see, once upon a time, There was the most beautiful white carousel, With two horses in love. Now heres their story I tell.
Now, the boys name was Ching, And the girls name was Jing, And their was abounding, A most wonderful thing.
Until one day… [play dum-de-dum-dum from Dragnet]
Well, you see, Ching was a carousel horse. Now, he was white out of one dozen. But he couldnt go up and down, [makes up-and-down motion] Like his uncles or his cousins.
Well, this made Ching Very, very sad, Because going up and down Made children glad.
And every Sunday they would run to the park, And ride on the carousel Until way after dark. But they wouldnt ride Ching.
Now that, of course, was a very sad thing.
[piano music gets louder] Well, you see, Ching used to be able to Go up and down, Until one day this fat lady Rolled into town,
And when she heard the music, And she could tell that the music Came from the carousel, And carousels were her favorite thing.
So she ran to the park Where she saw little Ching, And she jumped on Ching– And broke his spring.
And that was the end of his up-and-down thing. [makes up-and-down motion]
[sad piano music] Well, then, then, the grown-up people came, And they took Ching off the carousel To this tunnel underground, And they stripped his white paint, And they colored him brown.
And they tied a little cowboys scarf around his neck, And they nailed a little metal box to his side, And he carried the sign that said, Ten cents a ride.
And they put him in front of a supermarket On the other side of town, And now he just rocks back and forth. [makes up-and-down motion] He couldnt go up and down. [grins]
But you know what? Jing-a-ling, she still loved him very, very much, Even though her friends would all fiddle.
[in nasal, nagging voice] Now, listen: You CANT love a horse like him. I mean, he doesnt have a spring. Now, think about your kids: Theyll be stuck in the middle.
Well, come on, I mean, stuck in the middle Because he doesnt have a spring? Now why should true friends Be worried about such a thing? [grins]
Or, was it that he lived On the other side of town, And that she was white, And he was brown?
Well, you know, its really very funny That even to this day, Some carousel horses, And ponies that rock,
And you know, some people too Are still in shock?
I mean, it really is a shame, That no one ever understood, That underneath their paint, They were all made of wood.
But I, uh, I guess thats a horse of another color, huh?
[Shelley grins mischievously and bows as the audience applauds.]
[The BLACK PERSPECTIVE logo appears on screen for several seconds, then FADE to Garrett Morris in his hosts chair.]
Garrett Morris: Good evening, this is Garrett Morris, and welcome to Black Perspective. My guest this evening is a distinguished authoress who has written such scathing novels as Sharecropper 75 and Charcoal City. She was a script consultant on the film Sounder, and has given many of us a most enriching insight into the urban black experience. Miss Jane Curtin.
[CUT to Jane sitting in the next chair and smiling.]
Garrett Morris: Welcome, soul sister Curtin. I have never met you, but Im a big fan of your work.
Jane Curtin: Thank you very much. Im happy to be here tonight.
Garrett Morris: Uh, Jane, if I may call you that, uh, your writing suggests a lineage, a background steeped in the traditions of the sharecroppers of the 30s who ultimately migrated to the large cities. Uh, where were you raised as a little girl?
Jane Curtin: Well, as a matter of fact, Garrett, I was raised in New York, New York City, to be exact.
Garrett Morris: Ah, I suppose, then, that, uh, growing up in Harlem gave you this animal alertness, this, uh, this street sense that seems to permeate the core of your work.
Jane Curtin: Not exactly, Garrett. I grew up in midtown Manhattan, not far from the studio here, Madiston–Madison and 63rd. But I do feel that the conscience of my writing has been strongly influenced by the plight of my brothers and sisters in the ghetto areas you speak of. The most important relationship to this, I think, is that, uh, if you are one of us, you can speak and feel for all of us, no matter where you come from.
Garrett Morris: Right on. Um, Jane, uh, Im sure that you and I agree on this, but for the sake of our viewers, Im going to ask you anyway. Which do you prefer: black, Afro-American, Negro…
Jane Curtin: [hold up palms] I prefer simply, jungle bunny.
[Jane and Garrett both laugh heartily.]
Jane Curtin: Uh, black is fine, Garrett, black is fine.
Garrett Morris: [laughing] Any, uh, suggestions for young black writers?
Jane Curtin: [intensely] Write what you know.
Garrett Morris: Mm-hm.
Jane Curtin: Write what you feel. Write the truth.
Garrett Morris: Uh, I am holding here, Im holding here a copy of your newest book, Shadows. And there is no denying that, in person, you look nothing at all like your picture.
[Garrett turns the book around to show a black woman on the back cover.]
Garrett Morris: I, I, Im sure that you must hear this a lot.
Jane Curtin: Yes, I do, quite frequently. But I must be honest: I dont photograph well at all. [laughs]
Garrett Morris: Well, thank you, Jane Curtin, for being with us here on Black Perspective. [to camera] Be with us next week, when our guest will be Andre Prevet.
[FADE to BLACK PERSPECTIVE logo and theme music.]
[FADE IN on a blue background over which the following captions appear: THE THREE OF US in the center, MEDICAL SEASON on the left, and BLACK VET on the right. A fast-paced, horn-laced theme song plays, typical of 1970s TV network promotion jingles. A chorus of male and female voices sings along.]
Singers: Weve got a super season on NBC! Super season! Youre gonna like it a lot!
[Like blocks, still photos of scenes from each show stack up in a grid.]
Announcer: Even a super season has super failures! Thats why, at NBC, weve got super replacements!
[The screen slowly fills up with photos.]
Announcer: Here are just a few of the new shows waiting in the wings!
[CUT to exterior of a hospital while dramatic horns pulsate in the background. The caption Medical Season appears in the upper left-hand corner as three people walk down the sidewalk in front of the building.]
Announcer: Medical Season!
[CUT to hospital orderlies wheeling a gurney down a hallway, then CUT to an ambulance pulling up toward emergency room doors.]
Announcer: Real stories! Real people! Real action! And reality was never like this!
[CUT to an older gentleman in a suit with combed-back gray hair and dark-rimmed glasses. He sits behind a desk and speaks to a young woman with her hair piled up in a bun.]
Senior Doctor: [in heavy accent] At best, Id say you have a year to live.
Woman: [unemotionally] I know. I overheard you tell Dr. Franklin.
Senior Doctor: [outraged] You already knew, and you made me go through the agony of telling you this? You are an inconsiderate and thoughtless woman.
[CUT to Dr. Franklin, a young, Chad-Everett type in a gray suit walking out of the hospital with a red-haired, bearded man, wearing a black 70s leisure suit and smoking a cigarette.]
Roberts: If shes in pain, then dammit, DONT keep her alive.
Dr. Franklin: [stolidly] Shes not in pain. Your wife will be fine until she dies.
Roberts: [angrily] She should not be allowed to LIVE if shes going to die like this!
Dr. Franklin: Well, youre gonna die, Mr. Roberts. Youre allowed to live.
Roberts: [pulls on cigarette] Im not going to die within a year, doctor!
Dr. Franklin: How do you know?
[The young doctor stops and faces Roberts.]
Dr. Franklin: You could be hit by a car driving home today! Roberts: Im not GOING home today.
[Roberts stalks off as Dr. Franklin glares angrily after him. CUT to the senior doctor from the first scene accompanied by Dr. Franklin. A nurse is pushing a gurney with a young long-haired man on it down a hallway.]
Dr. Franklin: But its unneccessary! This man does not need surgery!
Senior Doctor: [accented] Hes already paid for it, and weve already spent the money.
[CUT to the same two doctors outside. The older doctor sits behind the wheel of a red sports convertible while Dr. Franklin leans on the door and stares angrily in his face.]
Dr. Franklin: Youre the man in charge! If you go on vacation during this crisis, youll lose the respect of every doctor who works for you!
Senior Doctor: I have weighed this decision most carefully. Ill see you in a week.
[He waves bye-bye and pulls away in the car. CUT to a middle-aged man in a turtleneck leaning over a long-haired woman in a chair and talking intensely to her.]
Man: Youre not really in love with me. You just THINK you are. It happens all the time, Leslie. Patients think theyre in love with their doctors, but they never really are.
[CUT to a dramatic closeup of the man as he turns his head and snarls bitterly.]
Man: They SUCK the doctors into believing them. The doctors do… and then the doctors get DUMPED!!
[CUT to a long-haired blonde nurse, sitting behind a long, high desk and talking on the telephone. Blocks on the wall above her spell out the word REHAB.]
Nurse: [in a tired voice] I am a registered nurse… NOT a registered prostitute.
[CUT to an ambulance van pulling up to the emergency room with sirens blaring and strobes flashing.]
Announcer: Medical Season! 9 out of 10 doctors agree: if this show gets on the air, watch out! It just might be habit-forming!
[The ambulance stops at the emergency room doors. A man gets out of the passenger front seat, walks around the front of the van, and opens the drivers door. He helps the driver out and gingerly leads him inside.]
[CUT to a shot of a tall, long building with CENTURY CITY in the left corner. Cooler horn music plays, overlaid with a bit of 70s slide guitar. CUT to shots of Judys, MAGNIN, and other store signs. CUT to a man and two women walking arm-in-arm down a city sidewalk. Albert Brooks is the husband, and the woman on the left bears a striking resemblance to Susan Dey.]
Announcer: The Three of Us!
[SUPERIMPOSE title in the middle of the screen.]
Announcer: The wildest new comedy youve ever seen!
[FLASH shots of a store window, a BIJOU movie marquee, and then a sign which says VIBRATIONS, then CUT to the three on the sidewalk. The married couple wanders over to a storefront window, while the other woman watches from a short distance.]
Announcer: On the right are Bob and Cathy. Theyre married. On the left is Susan, Cathys best friend. They all live together in fashionable West Los Angeles. This makes for a whole lot of fun–besides making Bob very excited!
[CUT to Bob and Cathy sitting on a couch while Susan sits on the floor near an intable.]
Bob: Well, I think we ought to do something exotic.
[laugh track]
Cathy: [sets book on her chest] What did you have in mind, darling?
Bob: [suggestively] Well, I dont know… maybe, uh, you know, what they talk about in the magazines.
[CUT to Susan looking dubiously at Bob.]
Susan: The only magazines we got around here is TV Guide.
[Run laugh track while Bob looks defeated and Cathy smirks. CUT back to Susan.]
Susan: Hey, why dont we join a record club?
[She flashes a smug smile over the laugh track. CUT to Bob and Cathy in bed. Bob is leaning on his pillow and talking to his wife.]
Bob: Come on, lets ask her in here.
Cathy: I dont WANT to ask her in here. I went to college with her.
[laugh track]
Bob: So you went to college with her! Youre both smart–shell find her way in here in a second!
[Run laugh track while Cathy glares at him and then turns her head away. CUT to Bob cracking an egg into a bowl in an upscale kitchen.]
Bob: [peeved] Why cant she have two eggs like the rest of us?
[laugh track]
Bob: [tosses eggshell away] Why do I have to make an odd number of eggs every morning?
[laugh track]
Bob: Why do I even HAVE to make eggs every morning?
[laugh track]
Bob: Why am I doing the cooking? What is my PLACE here?
[Laugh track runs while Bob disgustedly tosses another eggshell away. CUT to the three of them at the breakfast table.]
Susan: [to Cathy] Oh, listen, before I forget, if its okay, can I borrow your overnight bag?
Cathy: Sure, its upstairs.
[CUT to Bob chewing with his mouth open and smirking at Susan.]
Bob: Overnight bag, huh? Where are you goin?
[CUT to Susan and then Cathy looking coldly at Bob.]
Cathy: Why do you care?
Bob: What do you mean, why do I care? Im a human being. I have feelings. Im also VERY good in bed.
[laugh track]
Bob: [pleadingly] Please, Susan. Please, you two. Pleeeease.
[grabs jelly jar and unscrews the top]
Bob: Look, jam.
[The women ignore him and his open jam jar while canned laughter and applause play. CUT to the sidewalk in the first scene. Cathy and Susan are running down the sidewalk as Bob chases after them.]
Announcer: Everyones fantasy now becomes a situation comedy! The Three of Us! Its in the can and waiting!
[Still chasing the women, Bob holds out his arms pleadingly, then trips on his own feet and almost falls to the ground.]
[CUT to a man and two children taking a pet cage out of the bed of a pickup truck which sits parked on a dirt road near a grove of trees on a hot summer day. Snarling guitar music plays in the background.]
Announcer: [dramatically] Black Vet.
[SUPERIMPOSE the title in black letters.]
Announcer: A young black veteran from the Vietnam War returns, and takes up practice as a veterinarian in a small southern town.
[The man and two children carefully carry the cage down a front walk. A sign next to it reads, Dr. M. Bowman, Veterinarian.]
Announcer: He and his family find acceptance difficult.
[CUT to Dr. Bowman inside his office and talking to an older white man in a blue jeans jacket and a cowboy hat. A dog sits between them.]
Man: [drawling] Now, hes gonna have to be operated on. [pauses] Quite frankly, Duke doesnt want you to do it.
Dr. Bowman: [with an attitude] You mean, Im gonna have to board this dog while youre out of town, but Im not gonna have to operate? Is that what youre saying to me?
Man: Well, I dont have anything to do with it. [points to dog] Its his choice.
[CUT to Dr. Bowman grabbing a young white guy by the front of his shirt and knocking him softly against the wall.]
Dr. Bowman: [slowly] Im not the kind of vet that believes in drowning cats.
[Cat meows in background]
Dr. Bowman: Except the kind that go after my wife.
[CUT to a young black woman talking to the vet in front of a row of pet cages.]
Dr. Bowman: I just take care of her cow, do you understand? Thats all!
Woman: She doesnt HAVE a cow, Dr. Bowman!
Dr. Bowman: [confused] Maybe were talking about somebody else. Who do YOU mean?
[CUT to Dr. Bowman in his white smock and holding up a birdcage.]
Dr. Bowman: Malpractice?!
Mans Voice: [growling off camera] Thats right!
Dr. Bowman: Hey, give me a break, man, were talkin about parakeets!
[CUT to Dr. Bowman kneeling in front of his son and scoldingly pointing in his face.]
Dr. Bowman: [shouting] STAY away from the sheep!! You got it?!
[The boy nods obediently.]
Dr. Bowman: You just stay AWAY from em!!
[CUT to the vet and his wife sitting out on their porch at night.]
Mrs. Bowman: Last night, Martin, in your sleep, you told me that you loved me.
Dr. Bowman: [smiles sweetly] You know I meant it. What else did I say?
Mrs. Bowman: You said you didnt think Id ever race again, but you wouldnt have to shoot me.
[CUT to Dr. Bowman in front of a muzzled horse. He is holding onto the sides of the muzzle with both hands, while the horse keeps bobbing its head to try to get away.]
Dr. Bowman: Ah, ha ha ha ha, ah ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha haaaaaaaaa!!!
[CUT to Dr. Bowman peeling out in his pickup and leaving a cloud of dust behind him as the first theme music starts up again.]
Announcer: Black Vet! Hes coming your way just as fast as he can! Plus, theres more!
[CUT to a smoky nightclub. The audience is standing on its feet and cheering while an actor in mime makeup walks to the edge of the stage, bends down, and kisses a young woman in the front row.]
Announcer: Specials, the likes of which youve never seen! Specials, like Tuesday Night Nightclub! Every random Tuesday, NBC takes you to a world-famous cabaret, to present the finest in underground entertainment!
[While the mime keeps bowing to applause, the scene is washed off to the left third of the screen. On the right two-thirds, a young boy and girl are seen talking to each other in a living room.]
Announcer: And: a new production of Arthur Millers Death of a Salesman! Totally acted by children!
[CUT to a closeup of the girl, who wears a gray wig and sweater.]
Girl: Do you have your glasses?
Boy: [in oversized white suit] Yeah, I got my glasses.
Girl: And your sack ring?
Boy: And my sack ring. Goodbye, Im ready.
[The scene is washed into the middle third of the screen. On the far right is a detail from an oil painting of Revolutionary War soldiers.]
Announcer: Also, a series of Bicentennial programs: guaranteed to make you feel two hundred years old!
[The mime keeps taking bows on the left, the children keep acting in the center, and closeups of the war painting keep showing on the right.]
Announcer: And: comedian Albert Brooks breaks out of his late-night harness, gets a prime-time special, and finally gets a chance at making some BIG money!
[As the theme music winds to a close, the background singers start humming in the background.]
Announcer: Its all right here!
Singers: On NBC…
Announcer: And, God willing, youre gonna like it a lot!
Singers: Youre gonna like it a lot!
[The right two-thirds of the screen are squeezed out, and then FADE to black over applause after a brief shot of the mime taking bows onstage.]
[dissolve to audience applauding, zoom in one portly gentleman and add SUPER: “Leonard Bernstein’s Caterer”]
[FADE IN on a shirt-and-tie clerk with a pencil behind his ear. He is sitting at a desk in an office which looks like a disaster area. Paper is piled all over filing cabinets, and drawers are wide open helter-skelter. The phone rings, and Dan reaches to answer it.]
Clerk: [in a bureaucratic voice] Hello, CIA, Department of Records, Scramble Line 6. [pauses, then sounds annoyed] Well, thank you! Why are WE always the last to know?
[He bangs down the phone and picks a framed photograph off his desk. Sighing heavily, he walks back to the corner of the office, where a photo of CIA Director William Colby is hanging.]
Clerk: Down with Colby… up with Bush.
[He replaces the William Colby photo with one of George H.W. Bush.]
Clerk: Way to go, Bill!
[The door opens, and Garrett Morris walks in and marches up to the clerks desk. He wears a denim jacket and jeans with a blue beret on his head.]
Garrett Morris: I was told that, as an American citizen, I got a right to know if the CIAs got a file on me, and that by law, youre supposed to show it to me!
Clerk: Wait just a minute, there. Cant you preface your remarks with a simple good morning?
Garrett Morris: Good morning.
Clerk: Can I help you?
Garrett Morris: The law says that, uh, if you got a file on me, Ive got a right to see it!
Clerk: Yes, you have the right to see it, but having the right to see it and actually seeing it are two different things. VERY different.
Garrett Morris: What you mean by that?
Clerk: [gestures around him] Well, look at this, man. Does this look like order to you? This isnt order, this is absolute chaos! Everybody in Washington has been through this office! Id like to know who was in here last night. I cant find a thing. [ruffles papers] I cant even find a paper clip in here! But thats not your problem.
[grabs a pencil and starts writing on a form]
Clerk: [in an impatient tone] NAME?
Garrett Morris: I beg your pardon?
Clerk: I said: NAME?
Garrett Morris: Garrett Morris.
Clerk: [resigned] Thats unfortunate.
Garrett Morris: Uh, I never liked it that much myself.
Clerk: I have three thousand, six hundred and seventy-seven Garrett Morrises in this filing bank alone. [ruffles papers] I have Garrett Morrises here, here, here… [looks at blue paper] Here with the packing clearances! Have you ever changed your name to X?
Garrett Morris: [searching his memory] Uh, uh, I, I did change it to Garrett Borocca.
Clerk: Borocca. You were on the African kick for a while! You and thirty-two thousand, six hundred and eighty-eight other black Americans. Something else! Did you ever commit an illegal act, or something?
Garrett Morris: Oh, oh, yeah, uh, I, I ran guns.
Clerk: Oh, Mr. Morris, are you aware of how many people illegally transport firearms across state lines in this country each year?
Garrett Morris: Well, hold on, uh, wait a minute, I, I also, uh–
Clerk: MILLIONS!! Millions of them!! Millions! I have sheaves of files! Something outstanding! I cant work with this!
Garrett Morris: Wait a minute, I also sold illegal narcotics, since 1968–
Clerk: Ive got no time for jokes, Mr. Morris.
Garrett Morris: Well, in Oakland, man, I was, uh, minister of defense for a radical organization–
Clerk: Radical organizations! In a dimly lit vault down the hall here, I have six POUNDS of material on radical organizations. Youre just going to have to give me something MORE, Mr. Morris, if were going to find your file.
Garrett Morris: Uh, I, I actively, uh, advocated the overthrow of the American government, and…
Clerk: [waves file] You and 6.4 percent of the American populace. [slaps file down on desk]
Garrett Morris: Oh, waited, wait a minute. I also conspired to incite a riot. Thats right, I crossed state lines to incite a riot.
Clerk: [mockingly] Conspired to incite a riot! [waves hand in circular motion] Well, yippee! Youre going to have to do better than that!
Garrett Morris: Hey, man! Wait a minute! Hey! I bombed! Thats right, I bombed the Federal Reserve Bank!
Clerk: Not good enough. Anything else?
Garrett Morris: The big one! FIVE assassination attempts!
Clerk: [losing patience] Look, look, look, look. Youre being no help at all, here. You come in here, you want us to find a file on you, you come in here with this patsy-fied drivel of knowledge and expect us to WORK here? I cant find anything in this office! I dont know whos been in here, these Congressional aides that are walking in here asking me for tape recorder batteries, I dont even KNOW them! They dont have security clearance! We–
[He stops cold and attempts to collect himself.]
Clerk: Give me some time on this. Perhaps a month, perhaps a year, I dont know, I frankly dont know. Fill out this card here, put your name and address on it, vital statistics. If something comes up–
[Garrett uses the clerks pencil to start filling out the card. The clerk grabs another pencil and yanks the first one out of his hand.]
Clerk: Not that one, this one here. Thats MINE.
[The clerk snatches back his pencil while Garrett quickly finishes the card.]
Clerk: [sighs] If something comes up, well let you know. Dont fill out the last two spaces, they dont matter at all.
Garrett Morris: Okay, thanks.
Clerk: [in a tired voice] All right, then.
[Garrett rises and leaves the room.]
Clerk: [babbling on] These young-faced Congressional aides. Couldnt be 25 years of age! The–
[The instant Garrett closes the door behind him, the clerk bites off his words and punches a button on his telephone. He speaks in a tight, authoritative voice.]
Clerk: Russ, I want a tap on 1-4-3 L Street, Apartment 8. Sally, come in here and get some prints off this pencil. Were opening a new subject file on Morris: M, O, double R, I, S.
[dissolve to audience wide shot, zoom in on a long-haired blonde woman]
[ open on a stage area, decorated with a podium that reads “The Unofficial Seal – United States of America”, a pair of folding chairs, a standing American flag on a pole, and a table with a pitcher of water and a couple of glasses ]
Announcer: Ladies and gentlemen, the President of the United States.
[ “Hail to the Chief” plays, as a tuxedo-clad President Gerald R. Ford enters from stage right, bumping into the flag and spilling his papers onto the floor. Ford grabs his mangled pages and takes his place behind the podium. ]
[ SUPER: “This is not the President of the United States” ]
[ SUPER: “…But He Thinks He Is” ]
President Ford: My fellow Americans.. ladies and gentlemen.. members of the press.. and my immediate family. First, may I thank you all for being here. And I am in my immediate family. [ repeats his script ] First, may I thank you all for being here. And I am in my immediate family. Thank you all for being here, and I am truly honored to be asked by you to open the “Saturday Night” show with Harvey Cosell.
[ Ford chuckles, as he pours water into one of the glasses then proceeds to sip from the empty glass ]
President Ford: I do have — [ confused by the empty glass, he puts it down ] I do have two major announcements. [ awkward pause ] To make. Whoop! [ suddenly falls to the fall behind the podium ] Uh-oh! [ stands back on his feet ] No problem. No problem, no problem. Okay.
My first announcement is one I think you’ve all been waiting for. [ lowers his head and accidentally bangs it on the podium ] Whoop! No problem! Nope! Okay! No problem! Sorry, no problem.
[ Ford again reaches over to pour water into one of the glasses, then picks up the empty pitcher and sips from it instead. He is again confused by this action, and thus returns the pitcher to the table. ]
President Ford: [ yelling ] I know a fellow who is going to enter the New Hampshire, Massachusetts, Florida, and every other primary! And I know he is going to win! And if he has any other competition, right up to the end of 1976 – thank you! Hey. [ he again falls behind the podium ] Uh-oh! [ picks himself up again ] No problem! No problem! [ continues his speech ] And if I don’t win, I will continue to run in the primaries, even if there are none!
And now for my second announcement.
[ Ford crosses the stage, tripping over the two folding chairs and falling to the floor. He leans up and looks directly at the camera ]
President Ford: “Live, from New York! It’s Saturday Night!”
Woman #1: [ moves to chain-locked door ] Who is it?
Land Shark: [ muffled voice ] Mrs. Ramilarghh??
Woman #1: Who is it?
Land Shark: [ muffled voice ] Plumber..
Woman #1: Plumber? I didn’t ask for a plumber. Who is it?
Land Shark: [ muffled voice ] Telegram.
Woman #1: Oh. Telegram. Just a moment.
[ unlocks door, and opens it. The head of the shark appears, grabbing her arm and pulling her into the hallway as she screams. ]
[ SUPER: “Jaws II” ]
[ dissolve to Sheriff’s Office, Sheriff and Matt Hooper looking over a three-foot long metal tub covered with a white cloth ]
Matt Hooper: [ looks under cloth and winces ] Oh, my God!
Sheriff: What was it?
Matt Hooper: Land shark. The cleverest species of them all.
Sheriff:
[ dissolve to Woman #2 in her apartment ]
[ Music: “Jaws Theme ]
[ a knock at the door ]
Woman #2: [ appoaches the door ] Yes?
Land Shark: [ muffled voice ] Mrs. Arlsbergerhh??
Woman #2: Who?
Land Shark: [ muffled voice ] Mrs. Johnannesburrrr??
Woman #2: Who is it?
Land Shark: [ muffled voice ] Flowers.
Woman #2: Flowers? From whom?
Land Shark: [ muffled voice ] Plumber, ma’am..
Woman #2: I don’t need a plumber. You’re that clever shark, aren’t you?
Land Shark: [ muffled voice ] Candygram.
Woman #2: Candygram, my foot! Get out of here before I call the proper authorities. You’re the shark, and you know it.
Land Shark: [ muffled voice ] I’m only a dolphin, ma’am..
Woman #2: A dolphin? Well.. okay..
[ she opens the door, as the shark pulls her screaming into the hallway ]
[ dissolve to Sheriff’s Office, Matt Hooper lifts up cloth napkin covering plate, then winces and looks away ]
Sheriff: What is it?
Matt Hooper: Egg salad again. [ removes sandwich from under napkin, and takes a bite ]
[ dissolve to Woman #3 in her apartment, Woman #2 putting on make-up to go out ]
[ door buzzes ]
Woman #3: Who is it?
Land Shark: [ muffled voice ] Land Shark.
Woman #3: [ laughing ] Oh, Walter!
[ she opens door laughing, but is attacked and dragged into the hall by the Land Shark ]
[ dissolve to Sheriff’s Office, Sheriff on phone looking horrified into another rtub covered with cloth ]
Sheriff: [ on phone ] Hello, Walter. I have some good news, and I have some bad news. First, the good news. There’s a party tonight at my house. Now, the bad news: you’ll be coming stag. Goodbye, Walter..
[ dissolve to Woman #4 in apartment, listening to the radio ]
Radio: …considered the cleverest of all sharks. Unlike the great white, which tends to inhabit the waters of harbors and recreational beach areas, the Land Shark may strike at any place, any time. It is capable of disguising its voice, and generally preys on young, single women. Experts at the University of Miami’s Oceanographic Institute suggest that the best way to scare off the shark in the event of an attack is to hit or punch the predator in the Nose. Now for the weather..
Woman #4: [ turns off radio, as the doorbell rings ] Who is it?
Muffled Voice: Sorry to disturb you, ma’am. I’m from the Jehovah’s Witnesses, and thought you might be interested in a copy of our journal, “The Watchtower”.
Woman #4: [ grabs a mallet and inches towards the door ] Why, I’d be very interested..
Muffled Voice: Would you mind opening the door, ma’am?
Woman #4: Certainly.
[ she unlocks the door a crack, and reaches out with the mallet to strike the Land Shark’s head. Instead of the shark, a Jehovah’s Witness stumbles into the apartment and drops onto the floor in front of her. ]
[ZOOM IN on Candice Bergen standing at the left side of the stage.]
Candice Bergen: Boys and girls, this is a man that I love very much. The word genius comes to mind, but I will let you decide for yourselves. [gestures to stage] Andy Kaufman!
[Audience cheers and whistles as Andy walks onstage and stands next to a single conga drum. Andy wears a light gray suit several sizes too large for him and a white shirt underneath with no tie. He stands silent and motionless for about five seconds, and then he speaks haltingly in his Eastern European Latka accent.]
Foreign Man: It was three people. And they carried the biggest cannon in thee vorld to Spain. So, it was two boys and one girl. And they carrying the cannon, ehhh, to the highest mountain in Spain. So, the first boy, you know, they are on top of the mountain, and the first boy, he, point the cannon to this castle. [starts getting excited] And so, so, so, so so, he, so he, he say to the second boy, All right, haand me the cannonbooll! And so, so, so, so, so the second boy, he say, Ehhhh, I thought YOU had them! [gets really excited] So, so, then, listen, so, so, the, so listen, so, so the boy turn to the girl, and she say, Dont look at ME! You know, because, eh, they could not shoot! They, uh, they had the cannon, but, they, they could not, they had no cannonball! They could not shoot! Do you understand? Tank you veddy much.
[Audience applauds as Foreign Man takes two stiff, deep bows from the waist, then pats his greased-down hair and rubs his nose.]
Foreign Man: Right now, I would like to do for you some imitations, so, first, I would like to imitate Archie Bunker. [in same voice] “You, stupid. You, you are so stupid. Everybodys stupid. Ehh, get, get out of my chair, Meathead! Go, and the dingbat get into the kitchen, making the food! [waves arms] Eh, every, everybodys stupid! [waves arms] I dont like nobody! Its so stupid!” Tank you veddy much.
[There is laughter and applause while he bows stiffly again.]
Foreign Man: Now, I would like to imitate, ehhh…
[He freezes dead in his tracks. Audience laughs while Foreign Man stands completely silent and looks lost for a good 30 seconds.]
Foreign Man: I dont, eh, I forget… ehhh…
[He stays silent and clueless for 10 more seconds.]
Foreign Man: You vant to see me daance? All right.
[He stops and giggles awkwardly in a desperate attempt to get laughter, then looks terrified again.]
Foreign Man: I… I dont know nothing, eh… can… could… could we stop thee tape? Could we… I think… I think we should turn off the TV. I dont know if, if you are laughing at me or weeth me. But, you know, eh, you know, Im, trying to do my best, and, ehhh… I forgot what I was going to do, but, but… I promise that, eh, you know, is nothing I can do, but promise I vill not be here again.
[When the audience laughs, it appears to break his heart.]
Foreign Man: What is so funny about that, that? I dont… I dont know what to do…
[He breathes heavily, and appears on the verge of bursting into tears.]
Foreign Man: I tried to do my best, I tried to… he, he… I was trying to get you all to laugh, he, he…
[There is a rhythm slowly forming in his phrases.]
Foreign Man: Oh, yo, youre laughing at me see, he, he…
[He keeps singing gibberish until it forms a clear rhythm, and then he starts beating the conga drum with one hand. He claps his hands for a few seconds while the audience claps along, and then beats the drum in perfect time. He sings a few more bars of gibberish, and then walks offstage, pumping his arms in time with a little piano accompaniment. The crowd cheers loudly as Kaufman walks back onstage and takes two stiff bows.]
[ZOOM in on woman in the audience, with SUPER: “Nobody Worth Mentioning”. FADE to black.]
