04x12 - Look Ma, No Talent

[bunniefuu]

( Music playing )

- Hi, d*ck.

Can you, uh, steal a minute
before the show?

I'd like you to meet
my mamacita, my madonna,

My mater, madrone.

- Michael, please.

I don't have my
english-gibberish dictionary.

- ( Chuckling )
my mother's out there.

I don't see her very often.

She's usually
flitting the globe with paolo.

- Paolo?
- Paolo casiano, the cellist?

Her fourth husband.

He's in boston
to play brahms or somebody

So she's run up here
to see me produce my brains out,

And I've told her
that you're the element

That really
makes my show work.

- Your show?

"Vermont today
starring d*ck loudon"?

- Gimme a break, d*ck.

When your mother's here,
we'll say it's your show.

Oh, by-the-by, d*ck,
I've found some people

Who want to purchase
commercial time

On "vermont "today

And they want you
to be their spokesperson.

- Michael, I really don't
see myself hawking products.

- d*ck, d*ck,
dismount from that high horse.

Houseman and olivier
have done commercials

And they had reputations
to protect.

Read the script.

The queen of england would be
honored to appear on this.

- Yeah, she and I are always up
for the same parts.

- So, I finally told
the stewardess,

"My dear,
we bought this cello a ticket.

If there are
too many passengers,

Perhaps you can slide them
under the seats."

Well, you know
how paolo hates scenes.

- Uh, speaking of scenes, mum,

This is my "vermont today" set.

- Michael, you designed this?

- Well, I didn't actually
hold the pencil.

- Oh.

- But I worked closely
with the man who did.

He was wondering how
people would enter and exit.

I said, "how about a door?"

Voila.

- Very resourceful.

- Ernie, move this plant.

It violates the aesthetic
balance of the set.

- Okay, mr. Harris,

But it's covering
that burn in the rug

From the time
that fire eater belched.

- Oh, yes. Well, better leave it
where it is,

And-- and tell the others

Anybody who touches that plant
answers to me.

- Right, mr. Harris.

- Well, if nothing else,

You do seem to have
the respect of your men.

- Michael,
you conniving weasel,

i've read the commercial.

Oh, hi. Hi. Hi, there.

- d*ck loudon,
mrs. Lily casiano.

- The weasel's mother.

- Uh, listen, i--
you know, I didn't mean...

- No, no, no.

No need to explain,
mr. Loudon.

When creative people show fire,

I know it is ignited
by a divine spark.

- Yeah.

That's-- that's the way,
you know, it felt in here.

- Phone call for mrs. Casiano.

- Oh, it must be paolo.
Excuse me.

- Michael, I'm-- I'm sorry,
but you forgot to mention

That the commercial
is for swiss-style dog food.

- Oh, didn't i?
It's a socko product,

Shaped like
little chocolate bars.

Pooch thinks he's getting
a forbidden treat.

- The script calls for me
to wear those leather shorts.

- d*ck, the grandfather
in heidi wore them

And he's one of the most
beloved characters...

- Michael, I'm not--
I'm not doing the commercial.

Try to get that through
your thick,

Handsome face.

- Michael, dear,
I have to go.

- Go? But mum, you just--
you just got here.

- Well, it's paolo.

He's gotten himself in a mood,
and if I don't go comfort him,

He won't be able to play a note.
Brahms needs me.

- But, mum, you can't just go.

Y-- you haven't met stephanie.

You haven't seen my show.

You know, I wanted to
show you everything

I've done with this place.

I think you'd be
pretty impressed.

- Michael, dear,
matisse is impressive,

Mozart is impressive,

This is... All very well,

But you're years old,
and what are you?

Perhaps I can stop by
later in the week.

I'll give your love to paolo.

Ciao!

( Music playing )

- d*ck, joanna,
great to see you.

- Hi, michael.
Stephanie's getting dressed.

- Yeah, fine.
d*ck, joanna...

You're a tasteful
sort of guy and gal.

I want you to listen
to something and--

And tell me what you think.

( Scratchy violin playing )

Well?

- Uh, michael,
you might consider, you know,

Taking lessons.

- Oh, I've had
hundreds of lessons.

When I was a kid,
I studied violin day and night,

'Til my teacher
begged me to stop.

- Michael, why do you suddenly
want to be a violinist?

- Well, look at me, joanna.

I'm years old
and what am i?

- Well, that's silly.
You're a very talented producer.

Right, d*ck?

- Honey, he doesn't need to
hear it from both of us.

- Well, thanks, you two
for the attempted coddle,

But I'm here to talk turkey.

What's the verdict?

- Michael, you know, it's--
it's too soon to tell

After only hundreds of--
of lessons.

- d*ck, did I just hear
a cat screaming?

Joanna:
george.

- It sounded like somebody

Was trying to pick it up
with pliers.

- ( Cough )
george...

- Oh, hi, michael.

I didn't know
you played the violin.

Oh.

- Well, I think
all the reviews are in.

- Mich-- michael, what--

What about your date
with stephanie?

- Michael, is this dress
dazzling or just arresting?

Where did michael go?

- Certainly
not to the grammy awards.

( Music playing )

- ¶ What's love got to do ¶

¶ Got to do with it? ¶

¶ What's love but
a secondhand emotion? ¶

¶ What's love got... ¶

- d*ck, what are you
doing here?

You-- you never come
to production meetings.

- Well, I'm coming today.

Michael hasn't mentioned
a thing about this week's show.

Where-- where is he?

- Half an hour late.

Third time this week.

- Hey, d*ck.
Wanna be in the pool?

We're betting on
when michael gets fired.

- Yeah, bev's really
had it with him.

I've got five dollars
on noon tomorrow.

What looks good to you, d*ck?

- No one's getting fired.

Let's start the meeting.

- ¶ Oh whoa ¶

¶ What's love got to do ¶

¶ Got to do with it ¶

- Bud!

- d*ck,
what are you doing here?

You never come
to production meetings.

- How would you know?

All right, who's--
who's this week's guest?

- We could start a pool on that.

- Are you saying
that michael never mentioned

Who the guest is going to be?

- I don't think
michael's here, d*ck.

- Hi, guys.

I hear michael's awol...

Again.

- Uh, he isn't awol exactly.
He's just--

God-knows-where.

But we-- we don't really
need him for this meeting.

As a matter of fact, we--
we started without him.

- Good. I'll sit in.

- Uh, what?

- I'm sitting in.

I'm the station manager.
I can do that.

- Hey! Great!

- So, who's the guest this week?

- Bev, we-- we usually open
these meetings

With a little prayer.

- Hi, all.
Sorry I'm late.

My ballet class ran over.

d*ck, taking an interest
in production, are we?

Bev, great pearls.

So, what about this week's
guest?

- Yeah, what--
what about him?

- Norton firth?
The pie-eating champion?

He's going for the world's
record for gooseberry.

Here's some background on him.

- "Always liked pies"?

- Well, that's our show.
Looks like a winner.

Good job everybody.

- Uh, michael?
- Not now, d*ck.

I've gotta get in some work
on my epic poem:

"The iliad ii:
the day after."

- Michael!

- Now that's-- that's what
I call a good producer.

Not-- not a second wasted.

- He is a good producer,

But if he screws up
one more time, he's fired.

- Have you given any thought

As to what time
you might be doing this?

- I don't understand.

How are you
going to interview a guy

While he's stuffing pies
down his throat?

- Well, it shouldn't be so hard.

I've already laid out
a few questions.

"Would you like a napkin?"

- Hi, all.
- Oh, hi michael.

Stephanie, michael's here.

- Michael, I think
I should warn you,

Bev is this close to
f*ring you.

- Oh, not now, d*ck.

I think I finally found
my creative medium:

Conceptual art.

I'm showing it to mum
tomorrow,

But I've arranged
for a sneak preview.

It's out on the lawn.

- Oh.

- Bad news, d*ck.

Somebody just dumped garbage
on the lawn.

- What?

- , What--
what do you think?

- Michael, you have an hour
to clean up your medium.

- I'm trying
to make a statement, d*ck.

This expresses my despair

Over the thr*at
of nuclear devastation.

- It's ugly.

- Michael, are you okay?

- Yeah, you don't seem to be
able to concentrate on anything.

- Oh, stop worrying.
I'm-- I'm fine.

Two, three, four.

- Okay, michael, take one look
and commence wolf whistles.

He's not here again.

- Well, if it'll make you
feel any better,

( Whistles )

yo, what a babe!

( Music playing )

- Mr. Loudon,
I'm winston biddell.

We're all very excited.

- I'm--
I'm excited for you.

What is it
that's got us all abuzz?

- Swiss-style dog food
and having you as its spokesman.

- Did--
didn't michael harris call you?

- Not since he told us

You were gaga
to do the commercial.

- Aha.

Well, it's a good thing you--
you dropped by.

This way you won't spend
a lot of money

For set, studio rental,
that kind of thing.

- Ready for you, d*ck.

- What?

There-- there must be
a misunderstanding.

I-- I told mr. Harris

That I wasn't going to do
the commercial.

- He should've explained
that to me.

Without you,
there's no commercial.

Well, I guess the thing to do
is take this up with his boss.

- Dog-- dog-- doggone. Um--

Yeah, i-- I guess if i--
I don't do it you--

You're just going to go
with the queen of england.

- d*ck, this is what
you're going to be wearing.

- No. No, I'm not.

- Well, if you insist.

But we're not all as excited
as we used to be.

- Okay, here's a rundown, d*ck.

You read the cards,
pat the bench, the dog jumps up,

Licks your face,
we're out of here.

- Fine,
let's get it over with.

- d*ck, ( chuckling )
here's your co-star.

( Chuckling )

- Okay, places everyone.

Try to keep up, d*ck.

Sit.

Stay.

All right.
Roll tape.

Action.

- Hi, I'm d*ck loudon

And this is a bowl of biddell's
swiss-style dog food;

Looks like chocolate,

Nourishes
like nobody's business.

Make your pet as grateful
as this little fella...

- hold it!

- What's the matter?

- You're supposed to
pat the bench.

The dog jumps up next to you
and licks your face?

The dog knew it.

He was just waiting
for his cue.

Take it back to
"it looks like chocolate."

- Looks like chocolate,

Nourishes
like nobody's business.

( Tapping )

Make your dog as grateful
as this little fella here.

- Cut! He didn't lick.

- Now, was that his fault

Or was I supposed to
pull his tongue out for him?

- Bud, how do you
make the dog lick?

- Well, I don't know.

Want him to roll over
and play dead?

- Great, bud.

That'll sell
a lot of dog food.

- Hey, look!

- what's in that sandwich?

- Liverwurst.

He likes it, doesn't he?

- I've got it.

We take some
of the liverwurst,

We rub it
all over d*ck's face.

- No!

- Fine.

Nice supportive
creative environment

You're building here, d*ck.

- Mister loudon has a point.

Maybe we should...
Call this off.

I'll just go talk
to the station manager.

- O-- okay.

Rub me with liverwurst.

- All right.

The station's buying
me another sandwich.

- Okay.

Let's take it from
"it looks like chocolate."

Roll tape.

- Looks like chocolate,

Nourishes
like nobody's business.

( Tapping )

- Make your dog as grateful
as this little fella here.

Aw, come on.

- Cut!
I don't believe this.

- Hey, you know
what my dog likes?

Ice cream.

- Oh, good. Ice cream
would show up on d*ck's face.

- Not if you put it
in his ear.

- You're a genius.
Go to the machine.

- Wait! Wait a minute.

- What's your favorite
flavor, d*ck?

- To listen to?

Look, this is where
I draw the line.

No-- no ice cream in my ears.

- Hi.

How's the commercial going?

- Just great.

- Well, don't let me
hold you up.

I'll just stand over here
and watch.

- Strawberry, ernie.

( Doorbell rings )

- Steph.

- Michael, you've walked
out on me twice.

I think you owe me an apology
and a precious stone.

- Steph, can we talk
while I paint?

Mum just called.
She's back in town

And I only have
a few more minutes

To achieve something of--
of lasting importance.

- Children with big ears?

- Well, the ones with big eyes
got a lot of attention.

- Michael,
those kids were cute.

These kids need
plastic surgery.

- Well, maybe I can finish
the first chapter of my novel.

- "He gave her a laconic smile.

'Don't give me that laconic
smile,' she snapped.

Thus continued harriet and
morty's laconic relationship."

Eww.

- Well, "laconic"
was my word for the day.

- Michael, come and sit down.

I said "sit down"!

Michael, novels,
paintings, the violin?

Why are you ignoring me

And doing all these really
unimportant things?

- Steph, I'm trying to find
my talent.

- Talent?

( Chuckling )
what do you want that for?

- That's the only thing
my mother respects.

I've been trying to
come up with one

As long as I can remember.

One time in school,
I made this clay squirrel

With a bushy tail
and a little nut in its paws.

I was so proud and i--
I brought it home to show mum.

- And she liked it?

- She called it "derivative"
and threw it in the trash.

- Didn't your mother know
anything about raising a child?

Every time I made
anything in school,

My parents would buy it.

In the third grade
I took in $ ,

Just making tracings
of my hands.

- I wish I'd had
your parents, steph.

Well, after
the squirrel incident,

I made up my mind to abandon
all hope of creativity

And become a producer.

- But you love
being a producer.

- That's not important
like being an artist.

- It's better.

Producers have
big houses and cars.

You almost never
hear the word "starving"

In front of "producer."

- True.

- Artists are poor,
have nervous breakdowns,

And amputate portions
of their body.

Now, which one
sounds good to you?

- Well, I'd be a fool
to be anything but a producer,

If you put it that way.

( Doorbell rings )

Oh my god, she's here
and nothing's finished.

Steph, stall her.

I've only got
four chapters to go.

- You are not letting that woman
push you around anymore,

And that's an order.

- Hello, michael!
Felissimo.

- Hi.

Well, this is...

...certainly
a long-overdue meeting.

Mamacita, cupcake.

- Oh, my!
Is this stephanie?

You're even lovelier
than I imagined.

- Thank you.

Michael, carve her up.

- Mom, i--
I've got something--

I've got something
important to say.

I've never wanted to be
an artist

And I like
what I'm doing right now.

- Well, I'm sure
it's very pleasant,

But you're years old
and what are you?

- Well, I do have a novel
in the works.

- Michael!
How can you let her say that?

- But, steph, she's right.
I'm years old and what am i?

- You're !

- I'm ?

I'm !

I'm .

You were wrong, mom.

- All right.

You're ,
and what are you?

- Not so fast.

Ha! That's kind of
a glaring error, isn't it?

A mother's supposed to know
how old her child is.

- Mine does.

She's just not allowed to say.

- Very well.
I was mistaken about your age.

- Well, maybe
that's not the only thing

You were wrong about, mum.

That's the point.

Why am I learning words
for you?

Why-- wh--
why am I writing novels?

Why am I painting kids
who look like dumbo?

Why should I listen
to anything from anyone

Who's so self-involved

She doesn't even know
how old I am?

- Are you through?

- No.

I've just begun.

I'm years old,
I'm a producer,

And I'm good at it.
I like it.

That's what I am.

If you can accept that,

Terrific.

If you can't,
you can leave now

And I don't think
we should see each other.

- Well, my plane isn't
for a couple of hours and...

You did promise me dinner.

- A smashing dinner.

I'll write it off
to the station.

Producers can do that, you know.

- Michael,
I've never seen you so focused,

So-- so passionate.

If only you could
channel that into art.

- Mom.

( Music playing )

( Music playing )