Lenny Page #5

---

that maybe he could get me

some dates working conventions.

- Yeah, I know. You told me.

- I did?

But he says it's almost definite.

He said he'd call on, um, Tuesday.

- Lenny?

- Yeah, that's good, that's good news.

Well, I... got some really good news.

Um... My lawyer says, uh,

I might not have to go to jail.

Um...

He says we can appeal, but, um...

How much this time?

Uh, I'll send what I can.

I'll pay you back this time.

He said he'd call on...

Tuesday.

I miss you, Daddy.

How's Kitty?

- Fine.

- You change her a lot?

You know you gotta change her

or else she gets those rashes.

- I gotta hang up now.

- Lenny?

Yeah, I'm still here.

Do you still love me?

Sure, but I gotta hang up now. I can't

make these phone bills. It never stops.

I still love you,

and as soon as I'm straight...

Look, I gotta hang up.

Uh, listen, I'll send what I can.

OK?

OK.

Take care of yourself.

The trouble is we all live

in a "happy ending" culture.

A "what should be" culture

instead of a "what is" culture.

We're taught that fantasy,

but if we were taught "This is what is",

I think we'd be less screwed up.

Dig what I mean.

I'd like to show you dirty pictures

that relate to your daughter, or mine.

These are some pictures

of the Kennedy assassination.

Now... I say these are dirty pictures,

because the captions are bullshit.

"Never for an instant

did she think of flight. "

Now, that's bullshit. That's my conclusion.

Time magazine's conclusion is that

she was trying to get out of the car

to get help or trying to help

the secret service man aboard.

That's their conclusion, and we buy it.

But I think she did the normal thing, man!

When the president and governor got it,

she tried to get the hell out of there!

But they want us to believe this bullshit!

They want our daughters, if their

husbands get their faces shot off,

and they try to haul ass

to save their asses,

if they do the normal thing,

then they'll feel guilty and shitty,

because they're not like

that good woman in the fantasy!

It's a dirty lie to tell the people

that if you're good, you stay,

and if you're bad, you run,

because she didn't stay!

F*** it, man, she didn't stay!

People don't stay!

No, people don't stay.

If a Protestant woman's

son's marriage didn't work,

and she picked up and moved

to help raise the child,

would you call her a Protestant mother?

- So you moved to California?

- What else? I'm a Jewish mother.

Lenny went to work at Duffy's?

Yeah. Duffy's was a strip joint

about a block and a half from here.

Ladies and gentlemen, let's hear it for

Miss Cindy, tits and ass on the carpet!

Come on, you degenerates,

give her a hand!

Lenny used to do a shtick

between strippers.

- What kind of stick?

- No, it's "shtick", darling, "shtick".

I just had a wild idea. You know how

many asses have been on this chair?

Ha-ha! Really, there's been

a lot of asses on this chair.

We have no way of telling how many.

But lions and tigers know, right?

That's why when Frank Buck goes

"Ha! Ha!", they go "Eurgh! Eurgh!"

Oh, am I glad that you're here tonight.

All right, you've heard enough

of the humorous side of our show.

Let's welcome a great favourite,

Miss Baby Babylon

and her travelling rash.

- No! My answer is no!

- Come on, Lenny.

I dig it here because I can say

anything I want! I can do anything.

- Nobody's listening!

- What if I could get you $750 a week?

- 750? Get outta here!

- What would they pay him 750 for?

- To say anything that's in his head!

- What are those?

- M&M's.

- They dig you.

- How do you know?

- They think you're an in thing!

- Lenny an "in thing"?

- Lenny, let me call them!

No mother-in-law jokes?

- No.

- No Max Factor?

- Nothing!

- No tuxedos?

- You can go on bare-assed if you want.

- Mm-hm... No.

Aw, come on!

Please, Lenny, I need the money!

My final answer is no.

- Artie, Lenny's right.

- Yeah.

He's better off here where he can crack up

four musicians at 90 bucks a week.

- Now he should stay here.

- Yeah, she's right. Call 'em.

- I don't feel like it.

- Come on, I need the money!

- No, you had your chance.

- Artie, I wanna be a star!

- No.

- Please call 'em!

- All right, I'll call them.

- Thanks.

Here, sweetheart. I used

to work at a post office.

Let's hear it for Miss Baby Babylon

and her bobbling boobies!

Ladies and gentlemen, let's give a nice

welcome to Miss Wanda and her bird.

No, that was last week.

You're gonna love this next lovely lady,

so let's welcome her because

she'll thrill you down to your thriller!

Ladies and gentlemen, whatever

her name is, a big hand. Let's hear it.

I bid you all farewell. I'm leaving this toilet

to go on and become a big star. Oh, yeah.

Therefore, pursuant to the power

invested in me by the territory of Hawaii,

I hereby sentence you to be confined

to the Women's Correctional Institution,

Terminal Island, California,

for a period of not less than 24 months.

I mean, he stopped doing

that crappy imitation stuff

and he started to improvise.

All right.

- Who else can we talk about?

- Eisenhower.

Eisenhower. All right.

You students gotta stop

bugging him about the bomb.

He doesn't even know

where they keep the bomb.

Actually, it's not a bomb.

It's a button. A button on the fly

of a cub scout somewhere.

One day the whole world

is gonna go up, man,

because of one f*ggot scoutmaster.

I really dig what they do

with homosexuals in this country.

They put 'em in prison

with a lot of other men.

That's really good punishment.

Are there any n*ggers here tonight?

Can you turn on the house lights,

and could the waiters and waitresses

just stop serving for a second?

And turn off the spot.

Now what did he say?

"Are there any n*ggers here tonight?"

There's one n*gger here.

I see him back there working.

Let's see. There's two n*ggers.

And between those two n*ggers

sits a kike.

And there's another kike.

That's two kikes and three n*ggers.

And there's a spic, right? Hm?

There's another spic.

Ooh, there's a wop. There's a Polack.

And then, oh, a couple of greaseballs.

There's three lace-curtain Irish Micks.

And there's one hip, thick,

hunky, funky boogie.

Boogie, boogie. Mm-mm.

I got three kikes. Do I hear five kikes?

I got five kikes. Do I hear six spics?

Six spics. Do I hear seven n*ggers?

I got seven n*ggers. Sold American!

I'll pass with seven n*ggers, six spics,

five Micks, four kikes,

three guineas, and one wop.

You almost punched me out, didn't ya?

I was trying to make a point,

that it's the suppression of the word

that gives it the power,

the violence, the viciousness.

Dig. If President Kennedy would

just go on television and say

"I'd like to introduce you

to all the n*ggers in my cabinet. "

And if he'd just say "n*gger, n*gger"

to every n*gger he saw,

"Boogie, boogie, boogie,

n*gger, n*gger, n*gger, n*gger,"

till it didn't mean anything any more!

Then you'd never be able

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes