06x15 - Presence of Malice

[bunniefuu]

Uh, Stephanie?

Yes?

Uh, I thought I asked
for a cheese omelet.

There... There's
no cheese in here.

Did you look?
Maybe it's further in.

Stephanie.

Good morning, guys.
Notice anything different?

Not with the naked eye.

I'm carrying the
new morning paper.

Well, you... you
do have that glow.

County Morning News.

Gee, they must've...

They must've
pulled an all-nighter

to come up with
that... That masthead.

It's real thick, and it's
got all this extra stuff.

Those are sections, George.

You know, this paper
carries Mary Worth?

And she still looks the same.

Does she know how to
take care of herself or what?

What's... What's the headline?

"Mrs. Betty Atwater
trucking to Tyville

with sister this morning."

Why, it's nothing
but a scandal sheet.

"We'll probably do some
shopping," says Betty.

"No doubt she'll be getting a
perm as well," argue experts.

Okay, here's your cheese omelet.

Stephanie, um, don't you
think it would taste better

if the cheese sliú

I don't think so.

Stephanie, we have
a new morning paper.

Ew! I'm not touching it.

World events gets your
hands all icky and black.

Well, that's what kept me
out of the political arena.

Oh, look, d*ck, it's got

an entertainment
/ livestock section.

Hey, there's a review
of Vermont Today

by some guy, Curtis Bilgray.

What... What does it say?

Uh, says...

Whoa.

Is... Is it... Is it good?

Well, look, honey,

what does some stupid
Vermont pencil pusher

know about local
talk shows anyway?

Besides, we all love you.

But... But is it good?

"If any of you suffer from
the agony of insomnia,

fear not.

I have the cure:

d*ck Loudon of Vermont Today.

Uh, d*ck Loudon,
the alleged host,

has all the charisma
of peat moss.

Let's see... irritating...
Irritating shifty eyes.

Continued on page 12, see...

'Bore'."

d*ck, don't pay any attention.
He doesn't know what he's saying.

Although he says it well.

Hi.

I'm Larry, this is
my brother Darryl,

and this is my
other brother Darryl.

Oh, I guess you've
perused the diatribe.

Don't worry.

As you can tell,

we're not ashamed
to be seen with ya.

And... And vice, um...

Thanks. Thanks, guys.

The reason we're here is,
well, eureka. We hit pay dirt.

Larry, what happened?

Well, last night when
Darryl here was...

whippin' up a batch of
pancakes for the mornin',

and they started blisterin',

Darryl noticed that one of 'em
started to form an eerie likeness

to one of our greatest
historical figures.

Who?

Paul Anka.

It's as plain as the
shifty eyes on your face.

Gaze upon the mystical flapjack.

It... It looks... just
like a... A pancake.

Wait, wait. Does Paul
Anka have a beard?

Oops, pocket fuzz.

This is the biggest
thing to happen to us

since Darryl had
mud splashed on him

by a motorin' Tom Bosley.

Or was it David Doyle?

Anyway, we bet Paul Anka will...

plug in special lyrics
for My Way in our honor.

We'd be obliged if you'd spread
the word of our blessed vision.

But not until we've had time

to gear up for the onslaught
of curiosity-seekers.

Uh, guys, I'd... I'd put a hold
on that... on that gearing up.

Uh, to tell you the truth,
I... I don't see anything.

Wow, Paul Anka!

Okay. I fixed the leg
on the wooden bird.

Oh, good.

I was afraid we were
gonna have to shut down.

Uh, George, can I read your,
uh, County Morning News?

Yeah, but don't
disappear with it.

I'm sort of wrapped up
in that Betty Atwater story.

It... It seems she
slammed uh, the car door

on her sister's coat

and dragged the hem
all the way to Tyville.

I think I smell a Pulitzer.

d*ck, you still
wanna read that rag

even after that review?

Joanna, I'm not... I'm
not gonna hold a grudge.

Oh, look, there's
another review.

Let's see who he sinks
his teeth into today.

Oops, it's you again, d*ck.

"Last time I wrote a
less-than-glowing review

of Vermont Today
starring d*ck Loudon.

Thinking that I
might... have been...

unfair to base my
judgment on one viewing,

I watched some
tapes of past shows...

and it is with head
bowed in shame

that I report I was wrong."

Ah!

"I let Loudon off easy.

I didn't even
scratch the surface

of banality and
sheer dullness...

that is Vermont Today."

Uh, uh, this... this is insane.
I... I can't... can't read anymore.

"Worst of all is his habit...

is his habit of sitting.

When d*ck Loudon
sits in a chair,

one is instantly
reminded of a koala bear

propped up on
Johnny Carson's desk

during a visit by Joan Embery.

Next issue:

d*ck Loudon, the voice
that makes your ears bleed."

I think he's starting to
exaggerate now, d*ck.

Oh, honey.

Hi.

- Hi.
- Oh, hi, Jim. Hi, Chester.

We saw that review, d*ck.

Just think, all this time we've
been watching your show,

we didn't know it
wasn't any good.

But we want you to know

that we still watch
Vermont Today.

We just pull the shades down.

Yeah. It's become
a guilty pleasure.

Did, uh... Did you
guys come over here

just to pour salt in the wounds?

No. We were in the
neighborhood to see the pancake.

It's awesome, d*ck.

Just think: Paul
Anka's face in our town.

Everyone's all abuzz.

Let's go back and see it again.

My ears are okay.
How about yours?

Oh, my!

Well, that does it.

I'm gonna go to the paper
and confront that critic.

d*ck, do you think
that's a good idea?

Honey, I know
how to handle this.

When I was in fourth
grade, there was this bully,

and he wouldn't
stop picking on me,

and he... he pushed me
down and he'd take my lunch,

but I... I put an end to that.

How?

I... brought two lunches.

d*ck, I don't think that strategy's
gonna work with this critic.

Honey, you didn't let me finish.
Then I brained him with Chunky.

I'll be with you in a minute.

Oh. Oh, I see. I see your...

busy destroying
someone else's life.

I'll, uh... I'll wait.

Wait a minute. Don't I know you?

I'm d*ck Loudon.

Oh, yes.

Yes, I thought I felt
the charisma level

of the building plummet.

Look, I'm not
here to pick a fight.

All I wanna know
is why you're...

You're running this... this
smear campaign against me.

It's nothing personal,
Mr. Loudon. I just think you're awful.

I mean, I'm just doing
my job as you're doing...

yours.

Well, isn't... I mean,
isn't there something else

you could trash besides my show?

Oh, believe me, Mr. Loudon,

if I thought there
was something worse,

I'd leave you alone.

Have... Have you seen,
uh, Pearl of Pearl's...?

Ne... never mind. What, uh...

What is it? I mean,
why... Why me?

Look, well, here's
the thing. Uh, sit down.

I'll avert my eyes.

You see, Mr. Loudon,
I get paid to hate.

I mean, that's my speciality.
I mean, it's what I do.

When I was working in
Syracuse, single-handedly, I closed

Connie Stevens
and Tommy Smothers

in Bus Stop.

You're the devil incarnate.

And somehow your show opened
up a well of hate within me that...

I just didn't know I had.

Look at this way, Loudon:

I'm a kid, you're a candy store.

You know what I think?

I think you are a bitter,

twisted, vindictive,
frustrated coot

who takes some sort
of perverse pleasure

in trying to destroy

innocent and
hard-working people.

I mean, it... It is
guys like you...

who... who... who weep
at... At the drop of a...

What... What are...
What are you doing?

Crying.

Well... Well, quit it.

I can't.

It's always like this when
somebody yells at me.

I mean, you're right. I
mean, you're absolutely right.

I'm swill.

Oh, come on. It's...

It's not always...
Always that bad.

I... I like some things
in... In your reviews.

Oh, you're just saying that.

Well, yeah, but...

Here.

Blow... Blow your nose.

You would use single... ply.

Right, now... Now are you okay?

Yes, I guess so. Thank you.

But I'm not gonna
stop my reviews.

What?

I'm gonna go on trashing you

till I've driven you
off the airwaves.

And there's nothing
you can do about it.

Oh, yeah?

Well, next time I'll be back.

And I'll be packing a Chunky!

Pancake people,
I thought I told you

not to snake your
line over our lawn!

And you've got two seconds
to fold up those pup tents!

Honey, has the
'Morning News come yet?

I haven't seen it.

Uh, George, have you seen
the... The 'Morning News?

Uh, n... uh, no.

Well, I could've... I could've
sworn I saw it outside.

Maybe one of the pancake
people used it to start their hibachi.

By the way, d*ck,

I just want you to know
that I think being with you

is nothing at all like watching
time-lapse photography

of a guy washing his feet.

Okay, where's the paper?

"Yesterday, I was paid
a visit by d*ck Loudon,

and I can gleefully report
that he is as tiresome in person

as on TV.

He is to television what...

how-to books are to literature.

Ha! The joke's on...

Well, actually, it's still
kinda on you, isn't it, d*ck?

Uh, d*ck, before you go on,

I've done some market
research on this Bilgray.

Michael, how... how do you
do market research on one guy?

We slipped into his office.

Where there's a
will, there's a window.

Now, I've made up a list
of his top 10 fave raves,

which we can, oh, so
subtly work into the show.

So, here, slip on this
Mike Nesmith Monkee hat.

Michael, I'm not gonna
change just to please some...

raving lunatic hack!

Okay, d*ck.

Mi... Michael, where's my chair?

Now, d*ck, you do
realize if you have a chair,

you're gonna have to sit,
and that's prime Bilgray bait.

I mean, we have to
throw him one bone.

Michael, I want my chair back.

Fine, d*ck.

Might as well paint a
bulls-eye on your bottom.

Which isn't a bad idea,
because he is an archery nut.

- Michael...
- Say no more, d*ck.

I'm used to smoke
pouring out of my engines

when I pitch ideas to you.

So I've come up with a
completely opposite strategy.

If you can't join 'em,

fight 'em.

What... What...
What are you saying?

Give that Bilgray bilge-wad
a taste of his own medicine.

Here.

Feast your 20/20s on this baby.

"Curtis Bilgray...

is a fatty?"

Whoa, it's even
more stinging out loud.

Michael, I am not gonna stoop
to such childish, petty depths.

I'm gonna go out there and
do my... my regular show.

Okay, d*ck.

Have a good one.

And now it's Vermont Today,

starring d*ck Loudon.

Hey, who gave
him back his chair?

Hi. I'm... I'm, uh,

I'm... I'm d*ck...
I'm d*ck Loudon,

and on today's show
we... We will, uh...

We'll be, uh...

Look, I...

I just wanna say that a
certain person in this town has...

Has been taking pot
sh*ts at me and I...

I personally refuse
to... To stoop to his...

Curtis Bilgray's a big fatty!

d*ck, I did not say
today's show was awful.

Yes, you did.

No, I didn't.

I just think that
you may have gone

a little bit over the
line by staging that

"Why Bilgray makes
me sick" contest.

Honey, the guy is
continuously ripping me apart

in... in the press.

And I'm sure everyone in
town feels it's only fair that...

That I use my show as a...

As a forum to fight back.

d*ck.

We just watched Vermont Today.

Pretty low blow.

For shame, for shame.

Well, maybe not the whole town.

It's one thing what he
did to you in the press.

But to call a man a "fatty".

To hear that kind of
language coming out of the set.

And on a Sunday.

We finally get a
first-rate critic in town,

and you have to badmouth him.

He called me "The
Video Sandman."

And don't forget "The
Human Anesthetic."

And "The King of Coma."

Okay, okay!

Yeah, but, d*ck,
he's only one person,

and you're an inn-keeping,
how-to book-writing,

TV-starring conglomerate.

Another case of a big
corporation stepping on a little guy.

I'm not a corporation.

Mr. Loudon, I came as
soon as I saw the show,

and my eyes weren't
too teary to drive.

Oh, so you must be
that low life Bilgray.

Charmed, I'm sure.

Gee, you sure can't
fault him on his manners.

You're Curtis Bilgray?

He's not fat.

So not only was it shocking
to hear, but it wasn't even true.

Oh, double for shame.

Look, excuse me,
gentlemen, excuse me,

but I really don't need the
help of two country bumpkins

to get satisfaction
from the likes of Loudon.

Wait a minute, that
sounds like an insult.

I didn't think you'd pick
up on that till next Tuesday.

And that was
probably another one.

Boy, he's mean!

I told ya.

You know, maybe I was wrong
to concentrate on you, Loudon.

It seems this whole
town is full of people

ripe for my special
sort of ridicule.

Maybe I could make
it a regular feature:

"This week in Boob-Ville."

Uh-oh. Now we're in trouble.

What are we going
to do to stop him?

That's the problem.
There's nothing we can do.

He's right, you know.
You're all quite powerless.

Wait a minute. Chester,
aren't you the mayor?

That's right, I am.

What does that mean?

Well, it means you
can get him back

by passing laws and stuff.

Yeah.

Like what?

Well, you know,

something to make
his life here a living hell.

Or at least real annoying.

Like, I could pass a law
making wherever he parks

a tow-away zone.

What about making it
so that wherever he lives,

people can come in
and use his phone?

And... And... And we
could make it illegal to...

To write bad reviews about
Sunday talk show hosts.

Oh, come on, d*ck.
These have to be real.

Oh, look, look,
this is all absurd.

Now, look, try to follow this.

Even though you are the mayor,

I know you can't
put anything into law

without supporting votes
from the town council.

Well, that's...
that's true, but, uh,

we may just have enough

town council members
in this room to...

To make a quorum.

All those in favor of
passing the Bilgray Act

signify by raising your
hand and saying, "Aye."

Aye!

Well, gee, Mr. Bilgray, is
that your blue car out there?

George,

why don't you go and call
Armentrout Towing Service?

d*ck, uh, should I use our
phone or just head over to Bilgray?

Fine.

Fine, well, yes,
I can take a hint.

I don't have to be
hit over the head.

Too bad.

You're not the only
country bumpkins in the sea.

I shall simply
find another town.

Oh, and Loudon,

this country inn of yours:

gauche.

Fatty!

Hi.

I'm Larry.

This is my brother Darryl,

and this is my
other brother Darryl.

Our limelight days have
come to a screechin' halt.

And I guess it's true that
you see the same people

on the way down the
ladder as going up,

'cause here you are.

Well, what happened?

See,

Darryl here in one of
his night-feeding frenzies

ate Paul Anka.

By the time we
got to the kitchen,

all that was left

was Paul's distinctive forehead
in a pool of maple syrup.

I don't know whether to laugh
or run screaming into the woods.

This must be a big
blow to your plans.

Well, actually, we were
getting a little sick of hearing

that endless loop
of "Having My Baby."

But we haven't
taken this lying down.

Show 'em the lamb chop, Darryl.

Look, right there.

The sturdy face of Joan Baez.

I... I see nothing.

Darn.

Come on, Darryl, we
better get back to the café

and let in the pancake mourners.

Darryl here's
leading the silent vigil.

You know, I... I think I'll
always remember where I was

when I heard that the
Paul Anka pancake...

was eaten.

Meow.