Previously on I'm Dying Up Here...
Someone was there from Midnight Special.
They cancelled.
It's not your fault.
God's got it out for the Hobbs, that's all I know.
Who do we talk to about stage time?
Richard Pryor's going on Thursday night.
I can, uh, bump him if it means that
I can get some pros on stage.
I was on that list every week, and now look at me.
I got the main room whenever I want it,
as long as it's ten minutes before closing.
Let me help you, hmm?
Find a voice that women can relate to.
There is room for me too,
I just need your stage to prove it.
When you're ready.
You killed it at The Store last night.
You know, I-I wanted to be here.
But it's just one fucking night, right?
Caught my ex getting a blow job in our office.
That was one fucking night too.
Shouldn't there be some sort of pecking order
based off time put in at the club?
Oh, there's a pecking order.
Me, you.
Are you having a good time, ma'am?
Really? All right.
Tell your face.
Guys, Vietnam's coming to an end.
That means what?
Comedians are coming home... from Canada.
I used to do a lot of handyman work, growing up.
Mostly because my dad was in the business...
of breaking shit.
Well, what are you doing in here?
That hooker in the trunk ain't gonna bury herself.
All right, thank you, folks.
You've been a... slightly above average crowd.
♪ I'm up on the tightwire ♪
♪ One side's ice and one is fire ♪
♪ It's a circus game with you and me ♪
♪ I'm up on the tightrope ♪
♪ One side's hate and one is hope ♪
♪ But the top hat on my head is all you see ♪
♪ They're gonna put me in the movies ♪
♪ They're gonna make a big star out of me ♪
♪ Make a film about a man who's sad and lonely ♪
♪ And all I gotta do is... ♪
Excuse me.
I'm looking for Teddy.
The owner does time?
He does when there are holes in the lineup.
Well, why's he singing?
He ran out of jokes.
♪ They're gonna put me in the movies ♪
♪ They're gonna make a big star out of me ♪
♪ Make a film about a man who's sad and lonely ♪
♪ And all I gotta do is act naturally ♪
Hey, do you folks like impressions?
Yeah.
Well, you're gonna be impressed by this next guy.
Please welcome to the stage Billy Quandt!
♪ I'm up on the tightrope ♪
♪ One side's hate and one is hope ♪
♪ But the top hat on my head is all you see ♪
♪ And the wire seems to be the only place for me ♪
You know what you guys are?
You're alchemists.
You create pleasure from pain.
And that is a virtuous gift, my friend.
So why the free grub?
Because at King Theodore's, the comic is king.
All right, don't let this crown fool you.
I just work here.
And sure, yeah-yeah, I can carry a tune, but...
you're the rock stars, all right?
You keep the doors open. I just hold the key.
Uh, what-what's, uh, what's the buffet like
over at Goldie's?
You know, cocktail onions, lemon twists, ice cubes.
Usual stuff.
That-that's a shame.
Please, help yourself.
Oh, try the-try the shrimp.
They're feathered in coconut.
Do you ever notice how the American dream
is to have your house filled with Mexicans?
Think about it.
Your big house, your big car,
your big pool isn't complete
unless you have Mexicans running around,
scrubbing that shit nonstop.
Saying, "You like this, meester? It's good, meester?"
Though think about this, also.
We clean the inside of the house.
We clean the outside of the house.
We build the fucking house.
We're the wet-backbone of this country.
That's why we're always saying "Mi casa es su casa."
We're being ironic.
Now, think about it, the ultimate thing
is you want a Mexican to take care of your kids.
That's the best.
You want a Mexican nanny?
You got a Mexican nanny?
You have one already?
Good one, old?
That's the best kind.
You want an old nanny, right?
They're not going anywhere. They're not dating.
Right?
All they're doing is concentrating on your child.
Right now, there's an eight-year-old boy in Tijuana.
Grandmother's reading him a book.
Mom is making him a quesadilla.
His father is trimming hedges outside.
He's living the American dream
and he doesn't even know it.
The pool at the Pines was shaped like a crescent.
I would bet my left ear on that.
The pool at the Pines was a fucking oval.
I spent eight summers there.
Ugh, you're betting your ear 'cause you don't need it
because you don't listen.
All right, Judy, I'm listening.
Paint me a picture.
Lights up. Catskills, 1956.
- Aye? - Okay. All right.
Uh, I'm seeing you and you...
you're sitting on Sid's lap,
eight months pregnant with Mandy,
dressed as an apricot hamantaschen
because it was one of those fucking nights,
you know, with the costumes
and-and the-and the singing
and we were all dressed as foods.
I'm knocked up with Jake but don't know it.
Yeah.
And the fucking pool was oval.
You slept today?
Mmm.
I'm fine.
I like to, uh, spread my eight hours beauty sleep
over at least a week.
I did a 3 a.m. at the Flamingo.
And, you know, got in the car, drove four hours here.
Whatever.
That's my thing now.
I'm on Vegas Standard Time.
My sun rises at 1 a.m.
Wake up, I go to work at three,
do 45 minutes, walk up the Strip
to Sammy's club, I do another set.
Then it's breakfast with the working girls.
I tell them how I killed.
They tell me how they almost got killed.
Showbiz.
Nothing like LA though, huh?
Laughs only matter on the coast.
Plus... I miss seeing you.
How is Jakey?
You know, driven.
Got a head of lettuce.
Oh.
- How's Mandy? - Ugh. Oy.
She'll turn the corner.
- Nah. - They all do.
Nah.
Come in.
Hey. Real quick?
Um, I was looking over tonight's lineup.
And I know-I know I was on there yesterday,
but for some reason I'm not-not on there now.
Oh, Edgar, I...
You know what? I'm gonna go grab my seat.
I'll be out in a minute.
Cheers.
I'm really sorry your name fell off the list, Edgar.
That happens sometimes.
But now maybe you can get some more time
at the fucking cafeteria
Teddy sells as a comedy club.
That's what this is about?
No, actually, I was thinking about
knitting you a sweater,
but I wanted to discuss it with you
before committing to the color.
What the fuck do you think it's about?
Have I ever been unclear about this?
It was fifteen minutes and appetizers.
Don't act surprised or-or stupid.
I-I can't really tell which one you're going for.
You want to go to Teddy's? Go.
I am not stopping you.
Goldie, come on, the guy had fucking shrimp.
Eh, I understand.
Shrimp is very tasty.
You wouldn't be pulling this shit if it was Carlin.
Carlin didn't flop in my office
while his teeth came in for a month.
Carlin didn't shower in my fucking sink.
Well, Carlin didn't paint your fucking comedy club
for free either.
And that's why you'll never see my name in the Bible.
Not even in the sexy parts.
My parents died in a car crash when I was ten.
Christ, with this shit again?
- Shh. - They hit a tree.
What?
I think that segue hit a tree.
Their obit read that their car was
wrapped around a tree, which I liked
'cause I thought it gave their death
a kind of Christmas-y feeling.
The funny thing about death
is it's the one thing we all have in common
and no one knows how to talk about it.
Especially to kids.
People would say to me, "They're not gone.
They'll always be with you."
Well, that's nice, except no one ever thinks about
the fact that one day I'm gonna grow up and want to get laid.
And it was worse for me because I had a very critical mom.
The first time I had sex, all I could hear
was my dead mom's voice.
"Really, Cassie?
Is that how you're gonna fuck this guy?"
"Because...
if you're just gonna lay there like that,
he's gonna think he's screwing me
right after the accident."
I'm so sorry for your loss.
Her mother passed in November. Stage two lymphoma.
It gets easier.
Thank you for your... sympathy.
Hey, Cass, I love what you did up there.
- Edgy shit. - Thanks.
What are you, deaf now?
Did you not just see that, Steve?
She sucked.
Wish I had my derringer.
I'd reunite her with her mom and dad right now.
Hey, Sam, be nice.
He doesn't mean that. He doesn't even have a gun.
Fuck off, Steve.
You get The Main Stage
and that's what you do with it?
Fuck the next three comics going up after you?
It's a mic, not a shovel.
Look at this crowd. They're just like your parents.
No pulse.
Dead loved ones.
Not the evergreen you thought it was.
It's a work in progress.
You know, I usually forget you're Jewish.
And then you make me laugh.
What, you want me to be
more like Judy Catskills over there?
Borscht bleeding out of my ears?
Shaking my tits for shekels? No thank you.
Unlike you, when she drives away after performing, she's not
followed by a procession of cars with their headlights on.
Plant that seed between your ears.
I'm sorry to interrupt, but I saw what you did
and you were so brave and honest up there.
Thank you.
Too bad she couldn't have wedged "funny" in there somewhere.
Right.
Man, what did she expect me to do?
Goldie's has more comedians than she has spots.
Half the time you call in, you can't even
get up until after 1 a.m.
Look, it's not not unfair.
That's the eleventh commandment:
you don't perform in other comedy clubs inside LA.
I'd like to help you, but, hey, rules are rules.
Yeah, you made your bed.
Teddy's, he's got spots all over the place.
You-you could call in right now
and get up tomorrow night 9 p.m. on the dot.
Plus the buffet, fuck.
What does that mean? "Buffet"?
If-if you're a comedian, there's a free buffet.
Wait, like you can just eat?
Yeah.
It's delicious.
If we could do a spot at Teddy's, say, twice a week...
Tops.
That would give us a safe place to hone our stuff
so when we come here, we're more polished, more rehearsed.
And you would always get first dibs.
Always. Obviously.
'Cause why would we be punished for wanting to eat, you know?
Uh, I'm not directing that at you,
I just, uh, I'm-I'm just asking to ask.
Punish you?
Is that what's going on here? You're being punished?
Did I say "punished"?
No one feels punished.
I-I feel-I feel punished.
All right.
Let's review the food pyramid, huh?
Up top, you got your Pryors, your Prinzes,
and they can go wherever they want.
They've earned it.
Open mic-ers I could give two slim shits about.
It's comics like you, you, you...
To a lesser degree, you...
The raw talent I give my time to, who I nurture,
whose shadows I've sewn to their bodies?
Those are the ungrateful bastards
I might take issue with if they're putting in time
with my "competition."
This club is the only runway to Carson.
His guys come here, not Teddy's.
Mitch comes here.
You think I comp his drinks and his food
and his fucking bullshit
so he can watch you "being punished"
in front of a packed house?
Goldie, we're very grateful Very, very grateful.
But more clubs equals more exposure
and the better our names look on your marquee.
And that gets us closer to some actual pay.
'Cause at some point, somewhere,
we need to get paid.
Don't think about money.
- Money, schmoney. - I-I don't.
I just have a six-week-old that's a greedy motherfucker.
Ah, that's why God invented the day job.
Even made his own son build coffee tables
before handing over the reins.
Every college student across the USA
work their asses off until he graduates.
It's understood.
This is a school.
What school pays its students?
I feel like if you wanted the answer,
you wouldn't have opened the door.
This is a school, Bill.
It's not like we here on the GI Bill.
How's that job with Sonny and Cher
working out for you, Ralph, the one I set up?
So... me and you, we're-we're good
now that we-we talked?
What do you think?
Why do you have to make everything so fucking personal?
- Personal? - It's business, Goldie.
That's all. It's just fucking business.
Where are you headed?
Cassie's table to sit with Cassie.
Yeah, great, me too, 'cause we're peers,
we're professional peers and she expects us to sit with her.
It would be rude not to sit with her.
I mean, her peripheral vision's like a tractor beam.
- I agree. Après vous. - Après vous.
Yo.
- Hey. - Hey.
Good to see you.
Ah.
We're the fucking kids' table, aren't we?
Yep.
Hey, uh, before I forget, I just wanted to...
Ah, surprised it took that long.
Ooh, that was the Hiroshima of bombing.
I mean, there's gonna be audience members
three generations from now that still won't be able to laugh.
The only difference between your set and Pearl Harbor
is that it wasn't a Sunday morning.
Nice to know y'all had a productive ride over.
Cassie, you don't do sad shit at a comedy club.
It's the same reason they don't do
Razor Blade Night at a Cubs game.
Yeah, people come to Goldie's to laugh,
not to drop a rock into the dark well of their soul
- then dissect the ripples. - Oh, thank you, Sylvia Plath.
Well, somebody called me brave, someone gave me a hug,
and somebody else had lymphoma.
Well, if laughing behind your back counts,
you were a hit.
Well, the highlight of the night
was when Goldie pointed to Judy Elder
as the high-water mark for female funny.
- Mm! - Thank you.
If you're laughing at Judy Elder,
you're either 72 years old
or watching her climb a flight of stairs.
Hello, I'm Judy Elder.
Would you like to hear my five best jokes
that are somewhere in the general vicinity of sex?
- No. - Or how about 17 Jewish words
that sound vaguely obscene
if you lean into them with all your weight?
Seriously, though,
I would like to be under those dairy giants
while she removes her bra and then I just die
in the impending avalanche.
Well, then I could write a joke about your death,
put it in my act, and get standing condolences
from the crowd.
Hey, I-I thought what you did took a lot of balls.
And you're definitely on to something, so keep it up.
Yeah, that was some... pretty cool stuff.
Thank you, guys.
Hey, here's a thought.
Why don't you save your two cents for your waitress' tip?
Oh, come on, Bill.
Tom Thumb and his gay aunt have the floor.
Let 'em talk.
I'm sorry, who were you in Grapes of Wrath again?
No, Grapes of Wrath was the one about white people.
I think he was the one boycotting the grapes.
Right, right.
I just knew grapes was in there somewhere.
What's so funny, stable boy?
Pardon?
Aren't you Goldie's new stable boy?
I have so many questions for you.
Uh, most of them laced with sexual innuendo.
All right, Edgar, don't be a dick.
I'm not being a dick.
I just want to know what's so fucking funny.
Well, um, Edgar, if you
really want to know, I was just thinking about
the time that I fucked your mom.
Wait, did I ever tell you about
the time that I fucked your mom?
Oh, I fucked your mom so hard your grandmama came.
There I was, balls deep in your mother's coffee stain,
and 4,000 miles away in Guadalajara, your grandmother
just collapses in this bean field,
screaming my name and coming so hard that
moths fly out of that shriveled up, grey taco.
Now, I don't know this for sure, 'cause I'm still
back at your mom's, fucking her from behind,
like the donkey she used to fuck
while tourists threw Chiclets at her.
Right now, I'm distracted by her endless screams
of how she wants it in the ass,
even though she knew we ran out of lube like six hours ago.
But I'm a problem solver.
So I just start to
milk those endlessly lactating tits
all over my ski pole,
thus providing the necessary lubricant
that she desires.
And I just drill your mom so hard in the ass that
I knock out the one remaining tooth left in her head,
making her come so hard that a shitload
of inedible hard candies just shoot out
of that piñata she calls a pussy,
all over the dirt floor of her master bedroom.
And that, Edgar, is what I found to be funny.
What?
Trying to decide whether or not I should
fuck him up or buy a milkshake with two straws.
'Cause he fucked the shit out of your mama.
You guys ready to order?
You know what? You know what?
Order of fries for these motherfuckers right here.
French fries all around.
♪ I been in the right place ♪
♪ But it must have been the wrong time ♪
♪ I'd of said the right thing ♪
♪ But I must have used the wrong line... ♪
Hey.
Think, I, uh, left my wallet in the kitchen.
♪ Head is in a bad place ♪
♪ And I wonder what it's good for ♪
♪ I been running trying to get hung up in my mind ♪
♪ Got to give myself a good talking to this time ♪
♪ Just need a little brain salad surgery ♪
♪ I got to cure my insecurity ♪
♪ I been in a wrong place ♪
♪ But it must have been the right time ♪
Daddy's home.
Shh.
- Hi. - Hi.
- ♪ I been in the right vein ♪
Shh-shh-shh-shh.
Shh-shh-shh-shh-shh.
Why does the baby get burped by candlelight and not me?
The electricity's been shut off.
- Seriously? - Mm-hmm.
After only two
- threatening letters? - Maybe the third's
in that pile over there.
- Shh-shh-shh-shh. - I've been meaning
to take a look at that.
I just want to poke it
with a stick a few more times.
I'm sorry, Betz. I'll figure something out.
I think I can get my secretary job back.
He can sleep right by the desk.
You want to come to work with Mommy? Not really?
No, what, are we in a Charles Dickens novel?
Shh, shh.
How much do you think we need?
Shh, shh. Another $40 a week.
Fifty if you want meat.
Okay.
Think I can talk to Roger
and grab a few more hours at the warehouse.
- Yeah? - Yeah.
Hi.
You have the patience of a saint, you know that?
- Sully. - Yeah?
Take care of us, okay?
If you got a hankering to take care of that...
Why are shrimp so fucking delicious?
They-they are. End of story.
What was I thinking?
And... that's it.
Fucking blackballed for eating shrimp.
I am done.
Shrimp?
You're doing great, okay?
Just go back down.
But weren't you the one that told me
you're on the way to the straight and narrow?
You're a real piece of work. Do you know that?
All I've ever wanted was for you to know...
Hey, Maggie?
You're Mexican, right?
My mom's Asian.
But you're part cleaning lady on your dad's side, right?
He's Filipino.
Filipino?
What the hell am I supposed to do with that?
Thank God you're half-chink
or we'd have nothing to talk about.
Your act makes me uncomfortable.
He said it, not me.
That's why it's smart.
It's the puppet who's racist.
So a Jew and a hick walk into a convenience store...
You steal all that?
Man does not live on Rice-A-Roni alone.
It's 90 degrees out.
Oh, we know.
I think the sausages are ready to be served.
Sorry to interrupt your act, Steve.
Please don't start over.
Oh, it's okay, you can always stop by later tonight,
catch it in The Cellar.
No. He serious?
Come on, Arnie, this asshole gets The Cellar?
We've been here six weeks. We've been up fucking twice!
He gets The Cellar. You won't even guarantee us
open mic spots? I mean, look,
no offense to Steve and his regressive sock puppet,
but they fucking suck, they really fucking suck.
Ron's right, man. He fucking blows.
I mean, Hitler puppeting an actual rabbi's corpse
would be more funny and less offensive.
Sorry, man, no disrespect.
Guys, it's not up to me who goes up.
Yes, it is, you control the fucking set lists!
Fine! I think Steve's comedy
holds a mirror to our modern world.
- Pardon me, but I'm invested. - Hmm.
Thank you, Arnold.
And unlike you shits,
I am two up-and-coming comic voices.
Hey, toots, you ever date a guy that's
100% wood, 100% al... Oh.
Fucking pulp.
Stop it.
You're gonna break it.
Well, I can't see the weather girl.
Sparky, that was me, silly goat.
Maybe you should go for a drive, Dad.
You know, Detroit built this city?
It's all about the car here.
Gas is too expensive.
There's-there's no one at the door, Sparky.
There's no one at the door.
Ooh, I see legs. I see legs!
Dad, look out the window, it's 72 and smoggy.
Relax already.
Hey, Bill, Bill, would you help him?
Can't believe she gave my time to Fat fucking Tubs.
Fucking ridiculous.
It looked like- looked like a little helmet.
- It's on safari. - A little turtle.
You recognize these?
You should.
They're your leftovers from last night.
Such a waste.
Every one of these, a hole drilled in my pocket.
Abandoning a baby I can understand,
but this, what you got here,
this-this is a fucking sin.
I'm done with the open bar.
You pay for what you drink or half drink.
First two drinks, half price... comic prices...
After that, you're on your own.
Any complaints? You know where to send them.
This some sort of punishment for last night?
Course not, Billy.
Just the price of doing business.
There you go. There you go!
Hey, Rem, what do you think's harder?
Lifting that pallet of carburetors
or Lyle's rod while he watches?
Jerk-off.
Mr. Spugozi.
Sullivan. Come in.
What are you reading there?
New York Times. What's it look like?
All the news that's tits to print.
Uh, speaking of non-sequiturs,
um, any chance you could squeeze me in
a couple more hours a week?
I, uh, I could come in early.
You know, I believe you may be
the first employee to walk through that door
asking for more work and not just
more money for the same work.
Hey, I'm overpaid as it is.
What do I do all day except drink your coffee
and come up with new ways to call Remi and Lyle homosexuals,
which for some reason makes them laugh?
You ever give sales a consideration?
Sales? I-I'm not sure why I would.
Sense of humor can be an important tool in sales.
David O'Brien quit so there's an opening.
That interest you?
Uhh, could I still choose my hours?
Not hourly. Salaried.
You'd be a full-timer.
Be another 60 bucks a week, plus commission.
Course there's some travel involved.
You'd have to cut your locks and wear a tie.
Oh, I don't know. I don't know.
I got this whole hand-to-mouth,
starving-artist thing going on.
Well, you'll think about it.
Got it. Yes. Okay.
Uh, thank you.
Thank you.
How's the new baby?
Uh, good.
When he's not crying, he's sleeping and shitting, so.
Kids.
They're a real game changer.
That's some bullshit.
What?
Somebody crossed my name off of open mic.
Yeah, I did.
You're going up at The Cellar tonight.
Ho-holy shit. Wait, tonight?
What, Goldie didn't tell you?
I figured she'd, uh, whisper it in your ear
while you're up at her place, dancing cheek to cheek.
Holy shit.
So what happened up at her house between you two?
I helped her with some handiwork and we ate lunch.
I bet you helped her with some handiwork
and then ate some lunch.
Wow.
Wow, that-that's the joke that you choose?
Out of all the other jokes, you chose that one and thought,
"This will show him."
Yeah.
"This'll do it."
What time is my set?
Eight thirty, right after Steve the ventriloquist.
Who's that?
Relax. You'll like him.
Jeez, Sull, you're already in the hole
to me for 200.
Trust me, I'd fucking give anything
if it were the other way around.
Mary wants Donnie to go to private school.
Third grade, she's already talking about colleges.
Well, we slept with the baby in the car last night
'cause it was cooler than this fat lady's
ass crack of an apartment.
It's always a dick-measuring contest.
Look, my birthday is next month.
You could think of it as an early present.
Mary already bought you personalized stationery
and a fountain pen.
Are you serious?
Yeah. Oh, and sealing wax.
So we can write to each other.
What? Who the fuck are we,
Zelda and F. Scott Fitzgerald?
- I know. - Oh, man.
You tell her I'm looking forward to
that powdered wig at Christmas.
How much you need?
Eighty?
How much you really need?
Sixty.
All right, I'll send it tomorrow.
But that's all I got.
I love you like a brother,
but the wife loves you like a brother-in-law.
Well, hey, you can expect a very fancy,
personalized thank-you letter in about a month and a half.
You ever call that contact I gave you?
I can't keep doing this.
Yeah, he-he built sets for My Three Sons.
Not quite the world beater you think he is.
So no prospects at all?
No. Nothing.
Does Sparky seem a little off to you?
He seems like a 15-year-old dog, Dad.
Let's say we go to Mann's Chinese later, huh?
You can compare your hands with Douglas Fairbanks Jr.'s.
No. It's morbid.
That whole sidewalk's like
a mass grave to the stars.
When are you guys headed back to Michigan?
Not until Dad is more tan than his T-shirts.
Are you thick, Susan?
That's his way of saying he wants us to leave.
This isn't exactly a large apartment.
It's been two weeks.
Doesn't your husband miss his wife?
Don't you employees miss your warm, cuddly demeanor?
You're a worse harp than your mother, you know that?
Quit asking me about work!
Just stop.
That's the first time I've asked you anything.
Jesus!
Hey, uh, Dad, maybe now's the time to tell Bill
about your exciting new opportunity.
He's going into business with Cousin Jack.
He's, uh, starting a textile company.
- Mainly shower curtains. - You're leaving GM?
I'm not selling goddamn shower curtains.
What happened? Did he lose his job?
From what I heard, it all sounded very mutual.
You were there for 30 years.
Thirty-one.
What?
I don't control OPEC.
I don't set the rates.
They are fixing oil prices!
- Who-who's... - What do you mean, "Who?"
The A-rabs and the Japs, that's who.
The Japs want high fuel prices
so they can murder Detroit with their gas-sipping Hondas
and their tin can Corollas.
Jesus, crack open a friggin' paper once in a while.
It's a conspiracy.
I'm sorry, Dad. I didn't know.
Yeah, well, Detroit'll bounce back.
They can't kill our quality and innovation.
Fucking samurais.
It's easy to be sad in Michigan.
It's so grey there.
You inviting us out was a godsend.
I just thought if Dad could
spend some time with the sunshine and palm trees...
Can we please stop talking about me now?
Judy Elder's headlining tonight.
I can get us passes.
Oh, Dad, you like Judy Elder.
- You think she's funny. - I do?
Yeah, you and Mom have one of her, uh, party albums.
Right. Of course.
But she's no Dionne Warwick.
Hey, you, uh, Steve the ventriloquist?
What gave it away?
Ha, yeah, yeah.
What's up? I-I-I'm Adam Proteau.
I'm following you in The Cellar tonight.
- Oh, yeah? - Yeah.
Oh, it's nice to meet you, Adam.
Uh, and this is Sam. Uh, say hi, Sam.
Hello, Mr. Proteau.
Pleasure to make your acquaintance.
So where'd you two guys meet?
Pittsburgh, yeah.
Got him for my, uh, my 12th birthday.
Been together since.
- No shit? - Yeah.
I got a cousin in Pittsburgh.
- Oh, really? - Yeah, yeah.
So what's your, um, what's your gist?
You mean, what's my jive?
No, like, what-what's your act about?
Oh, yeah, it's, uh, mainly observational humor
about, uh, cultural differences, like, uh...
Did you see Planet of the Apes?
Well, yeah, it's a-a good movie,
- actually. - Hmm.
Did it make you homesick?
Excuse me?
Be honest.
Do you really still think your father
went out for a pack of cigarettes?
I'm sorry, hey.
I-I'm... he says some outrageous shit sometimes.
But you said it. You the dummy.
Am I?
Is the author writing the character
or the character writing the author?
Be careful, Steve.
He looks mad.
And blacks are genetically more prone to violence
than any other mammal.
I read that in a book about dogs.
Whoa.
See, now we're about to have a fucking problem.
Okay, listen, it's gonna be hard to defend you
if you, uh, you prove his point.
Careful, Steve.
He's got a gun.
I mean, statistically speaking!
Hey-hey-hey-hey!
Knock it the fuck off or I'll bounce you out of here!
They always lunge for the dummy.
What the fuck are you thinking?
I'm not following that cracker puppet motherfucker.
It's his act!
You seen All in the Family?
The doll is Archie Bunker.
No, that guy's just straight-up racist.
Obviously, you just don't understand satire.
Racist shit passing for comedy isn't satire.
That's... there's intent there.
Ooh, hey, Huey Newton,
you don't have to go up at all tonight.
I'd honestly understand if you didn't.
My grandparents are from Tuskegee.
I know why the caged bird sings.
Goldie here?
You know, you put up some shelves for her.
You didn't save her from drowning.
I'm not pulling his act.
You're welcome.
So does it sound like it's telling me
to go fuck myself?
Your first problem is that
there's over 200,000 miles on it.
Believe it or not, I bought it new.
It's like a fourth kid, only it eats twice as much.
You have three kids?
In three different time zones.
I have a newborn.
Boy or girl?
Uh, don't know yet.
We haven't taken the diaper off.
Should use that.
Ah, three kids.
Three adults.
Goes by fast.
This is where you tell me, uh, to cherish the moment, right?
'Cause so far it's been nothing
but screaming and shitting and puking.
You'll look back fondly when it's all
bitching, borrowing, and blaming.
But all three went to college,
so it sounds a little more eloquent than that.
All right, you have a flooded carburetor.
So we're gonna let that sit for a second.
That's so impressive.
What does your husband do?
With him, it's less about what and more about who.
But to his credit,
he always remembers their birthdays.
Every year he sends each one of them a card
with five bucks inside and a photo
of the most recent alcoholic waitress he's banging.
Well, your kids must appreciate it.
All the sacrifices you made.
Come on.
What?
I've sung that lullaby. It's a lot of malarky.
And you know it.
Kids grew up without a mother
so she could bask in the adoration of strangers.
We don't suffer for our art.
We love it.
People that love us,
they're the ones that do the suffering.
He just doesn't get it.
Norman Lear's got three Emmys.
It's called social satire.
Welcome to my world!
You can't talk to those people
unless you got a fire hose in one hand
and a German Shepherd in the other.
They don't get what I do.
I say what everybody thinks.
You know, it's society that throws its voice
through me.
Jazz and syphilis experiments.
Should have picked our own fucking cotton.
I gotta pee.
I like your shoes.
So my doctor tells me
I'm a heart attack waiting to happen.
So I says to him, I says, "Doc,
if I'm waiting as long for the heart attack
as I was to get in here to see you,
I'm all right with that!"
Why is it that people laugh at everything
that comes out of a fat comic's mouth?
Present company excluded.
That could be you up there, but you sold your soul
for a pocket full of shrimp and some finger sandwiches.
Fucking Indians got a better deal on Manhattan.
'Cause when I step off the city bus every day,
it tips over and bursts into flames!
It's true.
He's that fat.
Oh, come on, Edgar.
I say we take the high road
and just beat the shit out of him.
My uncle always says you can beat the shit
out of somebody, but not the stupid.
Ahh. You know how most people say
- what goes around comes around? - Mm-hmm.
Well, my mother used to say,
if that takes too long, just step on his fucking glasses.
Your mama sound dangerous.
She is. She is.
You know what? I wanted to apologize to everyone.
I'm sorry about all those fire trucks
you saw on the way here.
I actually burned my bra last week
and it's still going.
I had a breast exam the other day.
They found the Lindbergh baby.
Oh, yeah, yeah.
Told the doctor that I wanted to breast-feed,
and, uh, he said, "Great!
I take lunch at one."
Now, that's how to tell a joke.
Boys just ain't hungry. I'll tell you that much.
Is she really an acquaintance of yours?
- Judy? - Yeah?
Uh-huh.
Do you think you could introduce us after the show?
Your mother'd get a big kick out of it.
- Sure thing, Pop. - I actually think
the last man ever to look me straight in the eyes...
Excuse me. Ladies room.
I don't know if you noticed,
but I happen to be a 36 triple.
Are you fucking kidding me?
You know, the titties aren't even that big.
You know, someone asked me... - See that? - Hmm?
If I ever turn into her, do me a favor and kill me.
No, I'm not kidding.
Shoot me between the eyes,
stuff me in a duffel bag,
and toss me in a reservoir.
Hey, Cassie, just shut the fuck up.
They were telling me that their husbands
actually have names for their schlongs.
What do you call a dog with no legs?
Nothing, no matter what you call him,
he ain't coming.
Where the fuck is he?
Who?
My act! Sam! Who do you think?
Oh, I, uh, I think I saw him
in the janitor's closet flirting with a mop handle.
Yeah, you know, I heard him
tell somebody that he really liked you.
He just kind of wanted to feel
other men's hands up his ass.
Hey-hey-hey! No fucking around!
If one of you guys stole it, just fucking come clean
or you'll own it later.
Which one of you took him?
Sam was a $60 dummy.
That's expensive dollcraft!
If I did it, I would want credit.
Shit, not me. That's too obvious.
Look, man, we don't have your dummy, all right?
So other than "you're fucked" there's not a lot more
we can add to this conversation.
Did you say "dollcraft"?
Give it up for
The Cellar's second-favorite ventriloquist,
Steve Gileski and his little buddy, Sam Bowie.
Subtle, huh?
- Hey. - Steve, you're up.
How am I up without my fucking act?
What am I gonna do? They called you up.
All right. Tell Fitzy to vamp.
- Uh, excuse me. - I'ma check the shitter again.
Nice hair.
Hey, uh, can I borrow that for a bit?
You mind? Thank you so much.
Cheers.
Great. Dead air and no one onstage.
Hey, everybody, I'm Steve Gileski
and I'm a racist prick.
Thank you.
I just...
No, I'm Steve Gileski, and I'm a racist prick.
And I'm your host, Adam Proteau, and welcome to
You Bet Your Life I'm a Racist Prick.
All right, now, you both are big-time racists, right?
- That's right, Adam. - Oh, tremendous racist, Adam.
- You know it. - Go whites.
You got that right.
Perfect.
All right, racist number one... Yes.
A Jew, a Mexican, and a Negro all walk into a bar.
- Wow. - Quickly.
Who's the first one that you refuse service to?
The Negro, Adam.
Well, why is that?
Uh, you know, no particular reason,
just he's-he's black,
I got a daughter, that kind of thing.
No, no.
Wow.
Hatred based purely upon skin color and stereotypes
perpetuated by ignorance and fear?
Absolutely.
That's correct!
Contestant number one, you get ten points!
- Hey! - Whoa!
Very good.
Thank you, Adam.
Uh, I'd hug you right now, but you're a threat
to my family and my way of life.
Sure, sure.
This is true.
All right, racist number two...
Uh, a kike, a coon, a dago, and a spic, Adam.
That's correct!
Yeah, yeah.
Hold on, what was the question?
Who the fuck cares?
That was serious racist shit right there.
Doesn't matter, doesn't matter.
Ten points for contestant number two!
Ten points!
Whoa, guys!
You were really hitting the high notes out there.
Ha! It was like taking a hot bath in a crowded room.
I said it went well. No one's calling you Cleopatra.
You want a topper?
Ehh, nah, nah.
It'll make me too sleepy.
I don't like the hours you're keeping.
You're gonna drive your car off of the road one of these days.
Your daughter needs you alive
when you walk her down the aisle.
Tell her fiancé that.
You, uh, do me a favor?
Yeah. What's up?
Take tomorrow night off, huh?
Go... be with the family.
I'll pay you as if you were here.
Thanks, but... I'll be okay.
I wish someone would write me a check just for looking pretty.
What?
Is that what this is?
Look.
This just isn't your crowd.
What?
They were laughing.
Uh, some of them.
Did... and each one of them bought two drinks.
You built a brand that works in Vegas.
Be proud of that.
LA's a younger crowd.
These kids, they don't get you like I get you.
Th-they want new. They want what's next.
"They," huh?
Yeah.
I used to push you in the pool.
Oh, you say that like you taught me to swim.
This is the place.
This is it.
Do you want me to die in Vegas?
Or Joliet?
Or on some riverboat cemented to the dock?
I got no one else to call, Goldie, only you.
It's here... or I'm glue.
I'm trying to do you a favor.
I'm trying to let you walk home in your heels and your fur.
Before you embarrass yourself.
Is it always just business with you, Goldie?
♪ Need someone to love... ♪
I thought we were friends.
Ohh.
This is the friends part.
♪ Need someone to love ♪
The hell are you doing?
I'm paying the bill.
I'll see you and Susie out front.
I got it, Dad.
They charge you for drinks? You're an employee.
You're on vacation.
Unemployed.
Isn't that what you mean?
I'm just paying for the drinks, Dad.
"Vacation."
What are you, some kind of fucking smart aleck now?
What, you don't think I hear your tone?
You think you're some big fucking deal.
Well, listen here, Billy.
I can buy and sell you ten times over,
so don't you fucking forget that.
Fine, do you want to pay? Pay.
No. No, you go ahead, big shot.
Why don't you buy the whole joint a round?
You're welcome.
Say what you just said.
Anyone got cables?
Yeah, I got some.
You're a prince.
Bum one of those?
Sure.
So who raised you?
What?
If your parents died, then who raised you?
My uncle.
I liked your set the other night.
Well, I think you're in the minority.
What, are you waiting for a consensus?
No, I'm not.
Good.
You tell ten people a baby died, they all cry.
You tell ten people a joke?
Four laugh, four don't, and two don't get it.
Just the way it is.
Right now, I'd kill for those odds.
Ah, skinned knees.
It's all part of the game.
Come on, you're tough.
A hundred years from now,
people are still gonna be listening to Beethoven
and ooh'ing over Michelangelo, reading Shakespeare.
But us?
Jokes and shoulders, that's what we are.
Yeah. Jokes for people to laugh at
and shoulders for...
comics down the road to stand on.
Fuck posterity.
You gotta push that envelope.
You got to shove it down their fucking throats.
That's how you make your mark.
We're just a faint echo
in a joke told a hundred years from now.
Trust me, I am not whining.
We get something better.
We get the moment.
You know, we get the right fucking now.
I liked your set too.
Baloney.
Hey, did you find any?
Hold your fucking horses.
Unbelievable.
Toyota-loving cunt.
- Little bits of it. - Oh, yeah!
Oh, Bill, just so you know,
if you would like to pay the tab,
I promise not to get pissed at you.
What's the age cutoff for child abuse?
Is it 30?
Oh, shit, then it's just regular abuse.
Doesn't get anywhere near the sympathy.
Yeah, there's no adorable spokesperson, is there?
When I was ten, my dad beat me with a soup ladle
because I said that Eisenhower walked like a lady.
In the middle of it, he had an asthma attack
and my mom took over.
The really sad part is my mother was a registered Democrat.
You know, my father never hit me.
Really?
How did you guys celebrate Christmas?
Left when I was five.
That's terrible.
Do you remember what you did to make him not love you?
You don't know how lucky you are, man.
Listen, I ain't mad.
The man did the best he could.
I think you mean the least he could.
Oh, like your son ain't gonna be
bitching about you when he's our age?
Yeah-yeah-yeah, that's why I didn't order the fries.
I'm saving up for therapy.
That's smart. My dad loves fries.
Come on, Bill, there's got to be something
you can point to that your father did right.
Well... I guess he didn't hit us on Sundays
'cause that's God's day, so.
Come on, Bill.
Uh.
All right, well, we were never hungry.
And, uh, there was always a roof over our head.
There you go. See?
Best you can do, right?
Yeah.
And that's all your kid can hope for.
Heard-heard you wanted to see me?
Come in. Shut the door.
I'm very sorry to say,
but Edgar Martinez is through here.
Goldie... But Manny Martinez
can play here any night of the week.
Well, who-who's Manny?
That's you.
You're gonna change your name.
What? But why?
What do you mean, why? It's funnier.
Say it.
Manny Martinez.
Seriously?
Manny Martinez.
Again.
M-Manny Martinez.
Again.
M... Manny Martinez.
Again.
Manny Martinez.
Yeah, see how it rolls off the tongue?
Edgar and I didn't get along.
He was always looking over my shoulder for something better.
But Manny?
His future looks bright.
Now, you're gonna go back to Teddy
and tell him that Manny Martinez,
formerly known as Edgar Martinez,
will no longer be playing there.
And when he asks you why you changed your name,
you tell him you didn't.
I did.
You give your schedule to Arnie.
You can have any spot you want.
Thank you.
Oh, Manny?
Yeah?
Got a nice ring to it, huh?
♪ Oh I could hide ♪
♪ 'Neath the wings ♪
♪ Of the bluebird as she sings ♪
♪ The six o'clock alarm would never ring ♪
♪ But it rings ♪
♪ And I rise ♪
♪ Wipe the sleep out of my eyes ♪
♪ The shaving razor's cold ♪
♪ And it stings ♪
♪ Cheer up, sleepy Jean ♪
♪ Oh what can it mean ♪
♪ To a daydream believer ♪
♪ And a homecoming queen ♪
♪ Cheer up, sleepy Jean ♪
♪ Oh what can it mean ♪
♪ To a daydream believer ♪
♪ And a homecoming queen ♪
♪ Cheer up, sleepy Jean ♪