02x16 - Printer's Devil

[bunniefuu]

[theme music playing]

NARRATOR:
Man lives in the sunlit world

of what he believes
to be reality.

But... there is,

unseen by most, an underworld.

A place that is just as real

but not as brightly lit.

A dark side.

[typewriter keys clacking]

[distant car horn honks]

Well, here goes.

[radio playing lively music]

♪ Without your love ♪

♪ You're such a lonely guy ♪

♪ I try to rise above... ♪

[musical interlude]

RADIO DJ [voice echoing]:
WLTV rocks.

MAN [on radio]:
Say, has a friend ever
complimented you

on a letter you've written?

Has anyone at work ever praised
a report you've turned in?

I'm Alex Kellaway,
and I'm here to tell you

that if you can
write your own name,

I can make you a success
in the publishing game.

Life's short, friends.

Why should other no-talents
get all the breaks?

You could be
that diamond in the rough,

that sow's ear just waiting

to be transformed
into a silk purse.

Call for an appointment
right now.

212-555-8010.

Remember,
if you don't make that call,

the only one who suffers is you.

[station ID tune playing]

DJ [voice echoing]:
WLTV. Rock all day.
Rock all night.

Rock all the time.

Hey, here's the new one
from Justine Bancroft.

[pop-rock intro plays]

[turning off radio]

So, anybody can write, huh?
Well, it may be so.

But something good?

Something important?

[dogs barking outside]

Tonight, we get to eat.

Steak, shrimp and artichokes.
Tonight we get to eat.

Junk, junk. Gas bill.

Electric bill. Junk.

Telephone disconnection. Junk.

He promised.
[dialing]

[line ringing]

WOMAN [on phone]:
Mr. Guilford's office.

Put him on.

May I say who's calling?

You know who this is,
Mrs. Garcia. It's Junior Harmon.

Now, put him on the phone.

MRS. GARCIA:
I'm sorry. Mr. Guilford's
stepped away from his desk.

May I take a message?

I know he's there!
He owes me money, damn it!

Now, look, Mrs. Garcia,
I haven't eaten in three days.

My rent's overdue and they're
about to disconnect my phone.

That slob of an editor promised
me a check for that assignment

over two weeks ago.

Now, you go get him
and put him on the phone!

MRS. GARCIA:
There's no need to be insulting.

Yeah? Well, you just
tell my stomach that.

Now, you go get
that greasy hack,

and you put him on the phone
right now!

Do you understand me?
[line disconnecting]

Hey. Hello? Hello!

[dial tone droning]

[slams down phone]

[groans loudly]

[phone rings]

MRS. GARCIA [over intercom]:
Miss Hardcastle,

it's that Junior Harmon again.

Shall I get rid of him?

No. I'll do this one.

Yes?

Miss Hardcastle?
This is JP Harmon.

I met you a few weeks ago at
that 50s poster art exhibit.

The opening at the
Museum of Pataphysics.

I'm a victim of many openings,
Mr. Harmon.

I-I told you about my new novel,
Into the Void,

and you seemed very,
very interested.

I wanted to bring over
the first few chapters.

Mr. Harmon, I'm swamped
with work at present,

but if you'll have your
agent call, perhaps we can...

Miss Hardcastle, I can't get
an agent. I can't get an agent

till I get a publisher

and I can't get a publisher
until I get an agent.

We can only accept submissions
from legitimate representatives.

I'm sure you can appreciate
our policy.

[line disconnects,
dial tone drones]

[hanging up phone]

RADIO DJ:
WLTV.

ALEX:
Tired of all the rejection?

Tired of know-it-alls who can't
appreciate your talent?

Well, I'm Alex Kellaway,
and I'm here to tell you

that you don't even need talent

to make it
in the publishing game.

I'm talking to you, you know.

If you can spell
the word M-O-N-E-Y,

you could be the one
I'm looking for.

Come on down to my office,

and we'll check out the future
together.

You've got nothing to lose.

[radio playing
instrumental rock]

See you in an hour
with the filet.

See you in an hour, Julio.

Okay.

You're next.

Button it, pal.

You can thank me later.

MAN:
I can't find the soap!
First the water

is hot, and then it's cold.
I used to enjoy

taking a bath.

Rosie, when are those
damn plumbers coming again?

They just enlarged
that bathtub last week.

Mr. K, this is JP Harmon.

You can call me
Junior, sir.

Junior?
[chuckles] Good.

Good hook for a dust jacket.

You want to be a writer,
Junior Harmon?

I am a writer.

You want something
to eat, Junior?

No, thanks.

Well, you've got to eat, my boy.

Hunger inspiring art
is just a myth

created for the no-talent hacks

to ease the pain of mediocrity.

Um, Mr. Kellaway, I brought you
the first few chapters

of my new novel, Into the Void.

It's about a young
man's descent

into the hells of his
greatest passions:

an incestuous relationship
with his sister,

the abandonment
of his alcoholic father,

and the m*rder of
his best friend.

A western?

A what?

It just happens,
I need a western this week.

Look, Mr. Kellaway,
I'm a serious writer.

What I write
comes from right here.

Well, I'll bet. Better
you should write from here.

Sit down.

Let's see if you've
got the goods.

Ah.

I want you to take this
[electrical buzzing]

in both hands, like this.

What the hell is this?

This measures
your S-rating.

Well, what about the talent?
What about the writing?

Ah, well, now, talent is fine.

If you have a little,
then your ego will profit.

Otherwise,
only your bank account will.

[slurping]

[bell rings]
Well,

not bad at all.

150,000 plus. First year.

You mean that
thing told you

that I was going
to make $150,000?

120. I get 20%.

But...

Would you like
some bubbly?

No, no, no. Thanks.

Ah, jeez!
Oh! Oh, I'm
terribly sorry.

You know, I
really am. Here.

Let's get this
to the cleaner.

It's the least we can do,
my boy.

Mr. Kellaway, about my novel...

Harmon, my boy...

have you ever wondered how all
those bestsellers get published?

Did you ever think
it was talent?

Or art had anything
to do with it?

No.

Magic.

What?

Magic!

Pure and simple.

[chuckling]

Oh, that's
right, my boy.

That's right.

Oh, I'm not the only one
practicing it.

All the good
agents do,

to one degree
or another.

But it just happens that
I am very good at what I do.

[chuckling]

Very good.

I just can't believe
that I'm listening to this.

Well, I'll prove it to you.

Anybody owe you money?

Yeah. Harold Guilford.

Mercenaries of fortune.

I know that scum well.

[pressing intercom button]

Rosie?

Get me Harry Guilford.

HARRY [on phone]:
Hello, Alex, how are you?

I was great, Harry,
you sniveling cheat,

until one of my
new clients told me

that you still
owe him some money!

Oh, really?
There must be some mistake.

[inaudible]
You know I always

[whispering]:
Twelve hundred.
pay my writers, Alex.

Even though some
of these guys...

Harry, Harry, I've
heard it all before.

A Junior Harmon here tells
me that you still owe him

fifteen hundred bucks
for a trashy article

that you had him
write a while back.

How about it?

I've got integrity, Alex.

I always pay,
even if it's for junk.

This business isn't
what it used to be.

The stuff I'm forced to publish,

it's a wonder I can
put food on the table.

My daughter needs braces.

Can you believe 5,000 bucks?

I knew this would
come in handy again.

I've got to put out trash
to pay for it, and the wife,

the baby seal coat
I got her last winter

is no good this year.

She's got to have a new one.

I mean, she spends more time
on Fifth Avenue

than she does at home.

The only way
I know I'm married...

Got a safety pin?

No.

The writers, they all think
they're Hemingway

for Christ's sake.

One guy tried to hold me up
for $500.

[Harry screaming]

What's the matter, Harold?

You sound like
you're in pain.

It's these damn ulcers.

I got ulcers from...
[yelling]

Yes, well, tough times
don't last, so they say.

But I would suggest
that you get a check

over here to the office
this afternoon, Harry.

We wouldn't want
to add migraines

to those ulcers,
now, would we?

[Harry screaming]

A rather crude
demonstration,
I must admit.

But you can rest assured

that check will be in
my office by 5:00 p.m.

Now, let's get back
to that western I need.

You're, uh, 35,
born in New York,

an only child and never married.

How did you know that?

Animal... sacrifice.

Huh?

The good book says here

that animal sacrifice is
the most appropriate method

for a writer
of your characteristics.

The last writer to use
that won a Pulitzer.

Animal sacrifice?

Now, this is what I call

exquisite taste.

Yeah, it is,

isn't it?

An animal lover!

[gasps]

You never told me
you loved animals.

Yeah, well, um,

I can't help it.

I just knew you were
a sensitive man.

Ever since I read
Long in the Saddle,

I just knew it.

[phone ringing]

Yeah?

ALEX [on phone]:
Junior, my boy!

Hello, Alex.

So, how is she?

What?

That editor, uh,
Miss, uh, Hardcastle.

How is she?

How did you know?

You don't think
she liked Long in the Saddle

by accident, do you?

I goosed the spell a little
while I was at it, though.

Didn't think you'd mind.

The combination of Siamese
cat and Brazilian parrot

has wonderfully
erotic side effects.

As I hope you're discovering.

Alex, it's 2:00 in the morning.

Good news, my boy,

I just sold the movie rights
to this director for $100,000.

Plus five percent.

100,000?

I can't believe it.

I'm gonna need a spy
thriller post haste.

Set it in the Middle East.

And get me several
steaming women.

Anything, it doesn't matter.

Oh, one thing, though.

You're gonna need
a goat for this one.

Rosie will bring one by
tomorrow.

[howling]

BRENDA: Oh, no!
I don't believe it!

He ate my best silk nightgown.
JUNIOR: Shh!

The one you loved so much.

[bleating]

You're history, pal.

Lamb chops and mutton stew.

Memory in the pit of my stomach!

No! No, no, no,
Brenda, no.

Brenda, I promise you,

he'll be gone by tomorrow.

Junior,
[bleating]

I mean it this time.

We have lived together
for over a year now.

And I love you.

But we live in a zoo!

A Godforsaken zoo!

Okay, okay, I know it's hard to
share my affections with others,

but they're my inspiration.

I've had it.

Brenda...

They help me
with my writing.

You love my writing,
don't you?

[sneezing violently]

Bless you!

That's it.
Brenda!

Junior, that's it!

You have a choice.

You can have me
or you can have your dogs,

your cats, your myna
birds and your sheep!

That's it!

[doorbell ringing]

Hey, good-looking.

[growling]

Thought it was supposed
to be a lamb.

It's time to move on

to bigger and better things,
my boy.

The good book says
larger mammals next.

No, Alex.

I have had it.

I've turned my home into
a menagerie for you,

just so that in a
moment's notice,

I can be ready for any one
of your crazy schemes.

You know, I feel
like Lady MacBeth.

No matter how hard I rub,
I can't get the blood off.

Say, is everything all right
with you and Brenda?

You leave her out of this!

Junior, you have got
to k*ll that bear.

We're looking at
a seven-figure advance.

Presold movie rights!

No, Alex.

Enough is enough!

No more westerns,
no more romantic dribble.

No more chasing around the
Caribbean with revolutionaries

and oversexed women.

What are you gonna do
instead, my boy?

Earn a little self-respect.

[chuckling]

You can't eat self-respect,
Junior.

[chuckles]

Well?

Bring me that tie
you got off Junior Harmon.

Hi.

What did you get?

[typing]

Five hundred.

Five hundred?

Only five hundred?

I paid $3,000
for that stereo system.

It was the best
I could get, darling.

It's not even enough

to pay the damn rent.

I brought us home a nice supper.

I can't even place a lousy
300-word short story.

All my stuff comes back unread.

Look, we've both just had
a streak of bad luck.

That's all.

Things will get better.

They have to.

Yeah...

Do you know that
I haven't even been invited

to an opening in three months?

[groaning]

How are
your headaches?

[sighs]

This will be the last
time I mention it.

But why don't you give
Alex Kellaway a call?

Junior, my boy,
Rosie said it was you.

Alex, I... I know
it's been a long time.

Say, uh, I heard
Brenda lost her job.

Oh, bad luck, my boy.

She never should've published
that collection of your poetry.

Nobody reads that idiocy
except the author.

I know this is gonna
sound strange but...

Do you happen to need
a good action adventure?

No, not really.

What about a romance
set in the South Seas?

[squeaking]
Junior, I've been thinking
about you these past few months.

I have a feeling that,
uh, Into the Void

just might fly.

Alex, are you serious?

JUNIOR:
Yes, yes.

S-Sure I can.

Alex, I have no problem
with going on the road.

None at all.
Of course I'll promote it.

JUNIOR:
I mean, you just
hand me a ticket

and I'll go on the road
for a year if you want.

Alex, this is no bull, right?

JUNIOR:
Yes, Alex, anything.

Another sacrifice?

[chuckling]

He's all yours now!
[squeaking]

BRENDA:
Is he going to help?

Yes.

But I just have to do

one little thing for him first.

NARRATOR:
The dark side is always there.

Waiting for us to enter.

Waiting to enter us.

Until next time, try
to enjoy the daylight.