04x07 - Phantom of the Telethon

[bunniefuu]

Live, from CIA headquarters
in beautiful Langley, Virginia,

it's the first-ever CIA Telethon,

with your host, Agent Stan Smith!

Thank you! Good evening, everybody!
How about a hand for our band,

Midget Assassin and
the This Doesn't Concern You Orchestra!

Man, that is some sport coat!

- You like it?
- No, it's great!

I just didn't realize your latest
assignment was to k*ll fashion!

Folks, it's an honor for me
to be working in this studio.

This is the very soundstage
where we faked the moon landing.

And the JFK assassination.

No. I'm sorry. This is where we
planned the JFK assassination.

So a lot of people think
that CIA stands for

"Central Intelligence Agency."

Not true, folks.

Fact is, CIA actually stands for

"Stan Smith was born with both
male and female genitalia."

That's not what we wrote.
We don't go blue.

That's the lazy man's comedy.

Balls.

Maybe we're working too hard.

Anyway, you're in for quite a show
over the next 12 hours,

so give generously.

Let's kick things off with our very own
Langley Falls anchor partners,

Greg and Terry, reenacting
the volleyball scene

from their favorite movie, Top g*n.

Francine, you must be so proud
of your husband.

This whole telethon was his idea.

I know! I'm sure it's
going to be a huge success!

"Godlike"?
I don't know if I'd go that far.

Now, I need a moment
with my writers.

What the hell was that genital joke?

That's not what we wrote.
You were supposed to say,

"CIA stands for
Central Insanity Agency.'"

That's good. But that's not what
was on the teleprompter.

Someone must have messed with it.

I'm gonna go double-check the copy
for the "Taliban, Taliban,

Tali-me Bana" sketch.

You really think someone messed
with the teleprompter?

I mean, who would want
to sabotage the telethon?

Sabotage?

Did you hear?
We just captured a new t*rror1st!

Time to t*rture!

- I get to strap him to the waterboard!
- I call the car battery!

I want to slather him in oil
and make love to him all night long!

Oh, no. I'm on the phone.
Yeah, I'm still here, Mom.

Stop! We can't t*rture anyone.

- What's he talking about?
- We can't afford it.

I was just on Capitol Hill.

The Democrats have completely
cut our t*rture budget.

They're using the money
to teach inner-city kids

to read!

What are they doing?!

We'll just have
to raise a million dollars

and fund the t*rture
program ourselves.

Luckily, I have plan.

We have the biggest keg party
this town's ever seen.

We charge five... no...

seven dollars a cup.

Girls drink free.

I don't think that's going to work.

I don't hear you suggesting
how to get girls to our party.

How hard can it be to come up
with a million dollars?

What if I invent something?

Paper clips... paper clips...

piper claps...

popper clops!
Clops that pop your clappers!

I think t*rture is
barbaric and inhumane.

I can't believe
you're trying to save it.

Why not? You tried
to save Veronica Mars.

We get it. Girl detectives are bitchier
than regular detectives.

Fart! Not into it.

You know what show I tried to save?

- The Ghost Whisperer.
- It's still on.

Really?

That's it! I've got the idea!
Dark bulbs!

You know,
for when it's too bright out.

What?
It's a great idea!

Stan, it's okay.

So you're not an idea guy.

Yes, I am. Remember when
I invented that machine?

Stan, that wasn't a machine.
That was a hat.

I am an idea man, and
I'll prove it to you all.

I just need to get away
from all this negativity

so I can concentrate!

Sweet and High...

Wheat Thicks...

- Southern Discomfort.
- Good. You're here.

- You can either take your socks off now
- or I can knock 'em off for you.

What are you talking about?

Live, from CIA Headquarters

in Langley, Virginia,

it's the first annual CIA Telethon!

A telethon?

No one wants to run 26 miles.

Not a marathon.
A telethon.

It's the perfect way for you
to raise the money you need.

That's the stupidest
thing I've ever heard.

That's what Jerry Lewis said
right before he stole my idea.

You knew Jerry Lewis?

Back in the '50s, I was his tailor.
I shortened his pants.

Made him a star.
One day, I said to him, "Jer..."

I called him Jer,
but not to his face.

I said, "Jerry, how about you do
a long, televised plea for money?"

Of course he did it, and he said
it was all his idea.

Made me look like a total liar.

The only one who believed me
was Dean Martin.

Good old Dino.
What a sweetheart.

Talented, talented greaseball.
From Ohio.

Thanks, Roger, but I don't need
your stupid telethon idea.

I have all night to come up
with something.

Hamburger... Hinderer.

Guess what, everybody!
Bullock loved my telethon idea.

- What?
- A telethon?

- That is a good idea!
- Way to go, Dad!

Wunderbar!

Wait a minute. Your idea?

You should have seen it. They were
taking away all our t*rture stuff.

Everybody's freaking out. And then,
like a bolt of lightning, it came to me.

Telethon!

I'm so proud of you, honey!

How did you ever
think of a telethon?

He didn't!
It was my idea!

- Yours?
- Yeah. Remember, Stan?

We were in the living room,
and I said "telethon."

Stan, is that true?

- I remember now.
- Thank you.

You said "marathon," and that's what
got me to "telethon."

- Oh, marathon!
- That's why Roger got confused!

A marathon is a terrible idea.

The telethon was my idea!

Tell them the truth
or they're going to think I'm a liar.

That spaceship sailed
a long time ago.

- Get it? Because he's an alien!
- Or so he claims!

He's simply not credible,
and I am, apparently!

I let Jerry Lewis live.

I think we all agree
that was a mistake,

but I'm not going
to be branded a liar again.

Mark my words.

This time,

I will be avenged!

Please call me when dinner is ready!

Of course. It's Roger!

He's trying to ruin the telethon
because I didn't call him

when dinner was ready!

Klaus, did that teleprompter
mishap hurt us?

The donations slowed down a little,
but things are starting to pick up.

Good, we can still meet our goal.

I'll just have to make sure
nothing else goes wrong.

Anyway, what happened
after you slathered him in oil?

Did he like it?

Hey, everyone, look who just
wandered from their tree house

in the Appalachian wilderness:

it's the Amazing Buckle and Sherry!

Honey, I've been meaning
to ask you for a...

separation!

Like you could survive
five minutes without me.

What kind of man puts
his wife in a box and cuts her up?

I'm just trying to create
a sense of wonder.

You know what I wonder?
Why I didn't listen to my mother.

"Don't marry a mountain man magician."
That's what she said.

I joined a synagogue for you!

Just do the trick!

You wanna do a trick?
Here's a trick: Put a baby in me!

Sherry and Buckle.

It's Shari!

Folks, we're having
a lot of fun tonight,

but let's remember
why we're all here.

This is a t*rror1st.

They call him the Common
Garden Snake of Ramallah.

It soundmuch scarier in Arabic.

Snake, do you have information vital
to this nation's security?

I do, Stan, yes, very much.

And will you share
that information with us willingly?

Willingly? No.

This is why we need to fund
the CIA t*rture program.

We have just over nine hours
to raise the $1 million

or those repo men will take away
our t*rture equipment forever.

Operators are standing by.

And now... black music.

I'm so proud of you, Stan.

I really underestimated you.

I'm a man of action, a man of ideas.

"Dear Stan, admit you're the liar

"or my reign of terror
will continue.

"Signed,
the Phantom of the Telethon,

"Roger.

"P.S. When you give me credit,
refer to me as Roger.

"Thanks, the Phantom... Roger.

"Roger."

So down the gauntlet has been laid.

Lain?

- Laid.
- Delivery for Phantom of the Telethon.

Oh, my God, my pipe organ!

This is what I'm supposed to play
maniacally down in the catacombs?

What'd you think
you were getting for $39.95?

No, no, this is totally unaccept...

I can work with this.

Welcome back to the CIA Telethon.

Folks, we still have a long way to go
to reach our goal

so we need your pledges.

Smile and look to camera B.

You know, sometimes t*rture
doesn't go quite the way you planned.

Let's watch!

{\t*rture BLOOPERS}

Cut! Cut!
I'm sorry, folks.

I have no idea
how that tape got in there.

Play something!

What the hell was that?
Honey,

that's what you have to do
after a man takes you to a fancy dinner.

No, I mean, why was it shown?

Well, I'll tell you why.

Because Roger's still
clinging to the fantasy

that this telethon was his idea,
and now he's trying to ruin it.

Steve, Hayley, I need you
to find him and stop him.

I better get the security guard.
I'm not searching that basement

unless I'm accompanied
by an armed stranger

who failed the psychological
test to become a cop.

Here's the intro
for the circus bear, Mr. Smith.

"Some acts are too hot.

"Some acts are too cold.

"This act is just... right."

Like Goldilocks.

Part of me thinks they will be confused
because there's only one bear.

You're overthinking it!

"Irene Grossbard,

"Irene Grossbard

"I really mean it,

"Irene Grossbard...!"

Okay, that was Gretchen Grossbard
with a tribute to her sister Irene...

Grossbard.

Folks, we gotta do better than this.

You know, the CIA has captured
a lot of b*mb-makers.

Well, it's time for you
to set off the biggest b*mb of all...

the one in your hearts.

Let's keep the show going.

Some acts are too hot.

Some acts are too cold.

This act is just right.

Joke-k*ller.
He's a joke-k*ller.

Please welcome Boris
the Russian circus bear.

Something is wrong.

Itty-bitty brake line is cut.

All part of the show, folks.
Everything's fine. Music, Frodo, music!

Hayley, what the hell happened?

We were looking for Roger when
somebody hit me on the head.

When I woke up, Steve was gone.

Wait. What would Roger
want with Steve?

What the hell?!

Do not fear me, fair m***

Though my outward appearance
may repulse thee,

I assure you
my intentions are most pure.

- What are you doing?
- The phantom welcomes you to his home.

Geez, it stinks in here.

Why am I in a dress?

I'll thank you to hold
your criticism, my darling.

The hell with this!

Steve! Steve, come back here!
I am trying to do something!

Ladies and gentlemen, the U.S. may be
the greatest nation in the world,

but do you know
what the second-greatest nation is?

- El Salvador!
- No, not Mexico.

The second-greatest nation
is donation.

Won't you all become citizens?

Now let's go to a real
good novelty today:

Jeff Fisher and the Jeff Fisher
Hacky Sack att*ck.

One, two, three...

Thank you, Langley!

What?

You want more?

All right.

One, two...

I really thought we were gearing up
for a much more satisfying chase.

But this...

Roger, I'll k*ll you!

I'm not Roger.
I'm the phantom.

Well, yeah. Who did you...?
What?

Anyway, you'll never stop me!

There you go again,
stealing my idea.

Well, until you tell the family
this telethon was my idea,

I've got havoc to wreak.

Wreck? Wreak.

It ends now.

You can't stop the phantom!

These riggings and catwalks
are my domain,

and I am their master.

All right, all right, I give up!

But it doesn't matter.

I've already destroyed this telethon

and untied your bow tie.

You've given me a relaxed demeanor!

Oh, my God, is that a b*mb?!

- You planted a b*mb?!
- What the hell are you talking about?

That's enough C-4 to blow up
this entire building.

- Disarm it!
- Stan, it's not mine.

All I did was change
the teleprompter,

cut the brakes, released the t*rror1st,
dropped a fishing boat on Jeff Fisher...

Wait. You released the t*rror1st?
He's an expl*sives expert!

- We'll never be able to disarm it!
- Oh, my God!

Stan, I know exactly what to do.
Put me down.

Let's try that on the fart setting.

I don't know. It's funnier, but I think
it takes out some of the tension.

- How could you release The Snake?
- He's a master b*mb-maker.

Me? I don't know about master.

I make a nice b*mb.

All right, Snake, the jig is up.

"Prepare to meet your Mecca."

Fine. Go ahead and k*ll me now.

Once the ticking clock
on your tote board

counts down to zero, this whole building
will be blown to smithereens.

Good God, I've got
to evacuate the building!

Not so fast.

I've rigged the exits.

I've also rigged the elevator shaft,
the air ducts,

the little window in the bathroom.

I've seen a lot of movies.

When you are forbidden to drink,
dance or touch yourself,

- your afternoons are pretty free.
- You can't touch yourself?

I'll give you the code
to disarm the b*mb,

but first you'll have
to meet my demands.

I don't negotiate with t*rrorists.

Oh, really?
Have you ever bought a mattress?

Fine. What are your demands?

I have something I want you
to tell the world.

Hello, I'm the United States.

And I'm Israel.

With you behind me,
I can do whatever I want.

Well, I want you.

Take me.

No, this is wrong.

We both have the same father: Satan.

I don't care.

Oh, God, oh, God!

Oh, Judeo-Christian false God!

All right, I did your little play,
and it was intoxicating.

If you have anything else
I'd be right for, keep me in mind.

In the meantime, I need you
to disarm the b*mb.

Oh, that? No, I was lying.
I was never going to disarm the b*mb.

- You bastard!
- You're mad at him for lying?

You guys are enemies.
Of course he lies to you.

But you're worse.

You stole my idea and lied
about it to your own family.

Oh, my God, you're right.

Lying is wrong.

I'd know that
if I only I'd paid attention

to anything that's ever happened
to me before.

It's not too late to tell
everyone the truth, Stan.

What's the point?
We're about to die.

I don't want "I'm a liar" to be
the last thing I say to them.

It doesn't have to be the last thing.
What if I save us all?

Then will you tell them the truth?

You save my family, and I'd be honored
to redeem your good name.

Excuse me.
Does this have dairy in it?

Because if you want
to see a real dirty b*mb,

give me something with dairy in it.

The truth must be told!

- What's the code to disarm the b*mb?
- I'll never tell!

Hey, calm down!

Leaping lizards!

This is annoying!

Wait a minute.

I think I know how to save us
and the CIA.

Ladies and gentlemen,
we've had a lot of fun tonight,

but when that clock runs down,
this building will explode.

Yeah, you should be concerned

because that's the only man
who knows the code to disarm the b*mb,

and he's not talking.

And he's not talking
because we can't t*rture him.

Sure, he can be beaten by amateurs

like that oddly proportioned
fellow in the cape...

Come on!

... but we're never gonna get
any answers that way.

We need the money to fund
official/unofficial CIA t*rture.

We're counting on your generosity.

Stan, it's working!
The phones are ringing off the hook!

That's it, folks.
Give till it hurts... him.

We have the money!

Quick, get the equipment.

Hold this up.

The code is 1-2-3-4-#.

The b*mb is disarmed!

That's what I'm gonna say
when I disarm the b*mb.

The arm is disbombed.
Damn it.

So now you can tell
Francine and the kids I'm not a liar.

Yeah, I'm not gonna do that.
Well, that's our show, folks.

If you're interested in learning
more about t*rture,

follow an immigrant
into your local police station.

Good night.