All language subtitles for murphy_brown_s07e11_the_secret_life_of_jim_dial

between the two of us girls you know i
love you more

Will, you'll catch the next one.

Listen, Jim.

Doris is out of town this week. What do
you say you and I have a boys' night

out? Catch a movie, maybe do a little
Christmas shopping. Are you with me?

Thank you for the kind offer, but I was
planning to spend a nice quiet evening

at home. Oh, come on, Jim. You must be
lonely. Look, no one likes to eat alone

or shop alone.

Last Christmas, I had to rely on the
Cuisinart demonstration lady to help me

pick out a scarf for my mother.

Please come with me, all right?

I really don't think you should be alone
tonight. No.

Forgive me, Frank, but I just want to go
home.

Okay, fine. Jim!

I was just coming to get you.

Miles gave my story two thumbs up, so
I'm free tonight.

Since Doris is out of town, how about I
make you a nice little quick meal? Oh,

many thanks, but no need. Before Doris
left for Florida, she had all my meals

frozen and labeled and put in little
plastic tubs.

She even put in a surprise spice for
each one.

Last night was cilantro.

Are you sure, Jim?

I'll make black and red fish, scalloped
potatoes, little tiny pecan pies.

I'm afraid I'll have to pass.

I'll come.

Okay. But stop by and pick up the pizza
on the way.

Is pepperoni okay?

Hey, Jim.

Tell you what. Since Doris is out of
town, I'll pick you up around 8 and

go test drive the new Beamers.

635, 735,

835.

No, thank you, Miles. I have a quiet
evening at home planned.

Okay, but if you change your mind, the
95 models have super V8 engines and dual

cupholders.

Bobby, shred this for me, will you? Who
got this, Lugger? Oh, it's that sleazy

tabloid, the Tattler. Boy, you air one
little story calling them the festering

cankerthor of journalism, and suddenly
you're the bad guy.

Look at this.

A photograph of me taken after an eight
-hour plane trip. Oh, this is

outrageous. What's that on your head?

My hair. Oh.

So, what are you up to tonight?

Now, Murphy, before you start, too, just
because Doris is out of town doesn't

mean I need you to entertain me this
evening.

I'm going to take advantage of my
temporary bachelor and indulge in a few

forbidden pleasures.

I'm going to go home, change into my
pajamas and those ratty little slippers

that Doris keeps throwing out when I
keep pulling back out of the trash, and

heat up a cup of cocoa with whole milk
and those little tiny marshmallows and

settle in to watch Doris's lead favorite
movie, Ice Station Zebra.

Doris is out of town?

Murky Brown, and you must be... The
Andersons.

Bee and Irv.

I'm your new secretary.

He's just sitting here.

Listen to the big shot.

Who drove you here?

You brought your husband.

He's retired.

But if I leave him home alone, he eats
all the chocolates.

He's diabetic.

I am not diabetic.

Who told you I was diabetic?

Who told me? The doctor.

Yeah, well, he would say that.

That's how he makes his money.

Senator Tom Johnson called. Oh, thank
you. It wasn't Tom Johnson. It was John

Thompson. And he's not a senator. He's a
congressman.

Like you know the difference.

You haven't voted since 1948.

Yeah, well, after Truman, they've all
been bums. He's the only one who has the

guts to drop the bomb.

I tell you what, why don't you two
discuss this with personnel?

Again with the bomb.

Another job I lost just because you
can't keep your mouth shut about the

Hey, Murphy, have you seen the tattler
today?

Oh, God, don't tell me they've got me in
there again.

They still have me holed up in that love
shack with Tom Snyder. Will you throw

that rag away? I don't want to hear any
more of their lies.

It's not about you, Murphy. It's about
Jim.

Really? What are they saying?

Just get a load of this.

It's a classic.

Jim Dial's Wild Night. They're saying
that after he left here last night, he

drunk, hired a hooker, and got arrested
in the gambling raid.

At least now I know why I didn't want to
go shopping with me.

Oh, please. They ran out of stuff to
make up about me, so they moved on to

Jim, of all people. I mean, who was
going to believe this stuff? Oh, God,

you guys seen this stuff about Jim and
the Tattler?

We're dead.

Oh, Miles, calm down. They print this
stuff about Murphy all the time.

But this is Jim.

Jim is our rock, our moral center.

FYI is like a Tootsie Pop.

Jim is our chewy center.

Only reversed if the center were hard
and the outside were chewy.

Sure, it would make a lousy lollipop,
but you know what I'm talking about.

Miles, come on. This is the Washington
toddler.

But these pictures. Jim looking drunk
with his arm around a strange woman. Oh,

they're all fakes. They've got all these
pictures of Bob Packwood lying around.

They just stick different heads on them.

Really? You think?

Absolutely. Nobody believes this stuff.
It's just bunk.

Morning, all.

Hey, look who's here. It's Wild Man. And
Jim, tell me, how was your quiet night

last night? Yeah, how'd you cap off the
evening, Jim? Knock over a convenience

store?

Well, you know what they say.

When the cat's away and the mouse gets
drunk and goes looking for hookers.

Well, I gather from your witty
insinuations that you've all read this

Tatler. Well, let me take this
opportunity to say it's utter hogwash.

us about it. No kid like any of us
believed those pictures were really you.

Oh, those pictures were me.

They're not Bob Hackliffe? No.

innocent evening and created something
debauched and depraved.

What happened to going home alone last
night? What happened to hot cocoa on

those tiny little marshmallows? Damn
those tiny little marshmallows.

They're what got me into this mess. What
the hell happened last night, Jim?

Well, it's quite simple, really.

I was arrested in a gambling raid at
that cocktail lounge, which I was only

in the first place because I had to use
the phone.

I'd been escorted there by that young
woman who had come to my aid after I

twisted my ankle in those damn slippers
I should have let Doris throw out years

ago. That was because my tires were
slashed outside the convenience store,

phone was out of order where I'd gone to
pick up those infernal marshmallows,

which I discovered I'd run out of when I
sat down to watch Ice Station Zebra

with my hot cocoa.

As I said before, quite simple. Now, if
you'll forgive me, I believe that's all

there is to be said about this matter.

See? There's a logical explanation for
everything.

That makes sense.

Yeah. Couldn't be clearer.

Yep. Jim was with a hooker because of
tiny little marshmallows.

No,

I have no comment on Jim Dial. I have
absolutely nothing to say on the Jim

situation. Corky, the Times wants to
talk to you. I've got news for you.

I've got a call for you. Forget it. I
don't want to take any more calls about

Jim. It's the Pentagon.

Well, thank you for... What?

What? No, Jim can't book you
entertainment for next year's tailhook

I told you, Miles, I'm not going to
dignify this with a response. Come on,

just a little press release. One or two
sentences max. I don't see the point.

It's just that while everyone here
understands the whole marshmallow hooker

gambling connection, the general public
seems to be having a little problem with

it. That's their problem.

I've been in the public eye for 38
years, and with the exception of that...

Unfortunate decision to poke my head out
of that door on a laugh -in. I've never

had to explain my actions to anyone.

And I don't see why I should start now.

I think I should warn you, I just got a
tip from accounting.

Apparently there's an advance man from
Geraldo in the building. Oh, dear Lord.

Jim, do you have any tattoos?

No, Jim.

Let's go to Phil's and have lunch and
get the hell out of here. Well, it is a

little on the early side for lunch, but
who has to know?

It's Mr. Lansing. We were just on our
way not to lunch. So, what brings you

here? What, I need a reason to drop by?

Of course not. Drop by any time.

You think I have time to drop by without
a reason?

Think I'm like you, gallivanting out to
lunch? It's ten minutes to noon.

Folks, I like to talk to Jim alone.

Well, if it's all right with you, Stan,
I'd like to be here for this. And I'd

like to be at Pebble Beach playing golf
with Cindy Crawford as my caddy.

But life is full of disappointments.

Like my idiot son with the nose ring.

That's a different story.

You're on your own, Jim.

I said I'd like to talk to Jim alone.

You heard the man!

Let's go! Let's go!

All clear, Mr. Lutzer.

Jim!

word alone didn't you understand?

I'll take the stairs.

Thank you.

Now, where was I?

I believe it was Jim, Jim, Jim.

Oh, right.

Jim, Jim, Jim.

What can I say? The senior anchor on my
most respected news show involved

with gambling and prostitutes. Now,
listen, Stan, I can explain everything.

love it!

Sure, another time, another place, I
would be enforcing your morality clause.

But my network is in third place,
teetering on fourth. So when your little

adventure started bringing in young
viewers in droves, I was a happy man.

You're a god to them.

A god?

Yeah, like Zeus or Luke Perry.

Jim, I have to tell you, the way you're
playing this one out is a thing of

beauty. No, Stan, Stan, I feel I must
say that I'm not playing anything. I

simply refuse to dignify these absurd
allegations with a response.

Good. That's good. Keep a low profile.

Let them speculate.

People today love scandal.

In the past, I had to rely on Murphy for
that.

But this year, Christmas came early, and
you went crazy!

Bless you, Jim Dyer. No, no, wait, wait,
wait.

Just a second there, Stan. I feel
compelled to clear the air now. You

to explain.

I don't want to know. No, no, but Stan,
you see... I judge no man.

We all have our little idiosyncrasies. I
won't trouble you with mine. Although

judging from that wild night of yours, I
think we have a few areas that overlap.

that has left admirers, friends, and
colleagues scratching their heads in

over the mysterious antics of the once
irreproachable network anchor.

Using official reports and current
edition's own crack investigative team,

pieced together the true story of Jim
Dial's wild night.

After a night of heavy boozing, Mr.
Dial, lead anchor of FYI, whose wife was

of town, was seen weaving down the
street looking for a prostitute. Hey,

I'm Jim Dial.

Lead anchor of FYI.

My wife's out of town, and I'm looking
for a prostitute.

Next stop for our Randy Roving. All
right, that's enough.

Show's over.

Very easy there, kid.

You said it hasn't been the same since
you threw that ketchup bottle at it.

You're Neil Diamond unplugged.

Oh,

grow up.

Can you believe this?

I knew Jim the way we do. All of these
ridiculous stories would just dry up.

know what I mean?

Uh -huh.

Wait a minute. What are you saying? This
is Jim.

Yeah, Jim.

Oh, no.

Don't tell me you guys are buying this
crap.

No. I mean, obviously, most of this
stuff is far -fetched, but I don't know.

did happen to be talking to a source of
mine who said that...

Well, some of this stuff could be true.

What? I'm not saying I believe it. I'm
just saying it could be possible.

I mean, how well do we know Jim?

Sure, we work with him every day. We
socialize occasionally.

But then he goes home and he has this
whole other life we know nothing about.

Like, isn't it weird that we only found
out two years ago that he's colorblind?

Ooh. All right, what about the fact that
he has been in a barbershop quartet for

the past 12 years and hasn't invited us?

to a concert once.

Ooh, there's your scandal, Frank. Run
with that one.

You know what's weird?

One time, I went by his office, and he
was on the phone, and he said, I have to

go. Then he hung up really quickly.

Really quickly.

Think that's anything?

Whenever we pick him up on carpool day,
he's always standing at the curb, like

there's something in his house he
doesn't want us to see.

His Christmas party last year, there was
one door, and it was locked.

All the time.

What do you think that's all about?

You know what?

I know what's down there.

At the bottom of an old, rickety
staircase is a long, dark hallway that

nothing. Will you get a hold of
yourself?

Very witty. Very witty indeed.

Hey, Jim. Hey, how'd it go with Lansing,
Jim? Oh, the men's a vulgarian.

Not only does he love all this
publicity, he actually believes it.

something?

Yes, can you imagine that? Somebody not
believing you?

Corky, Miles, Frank, can you imagine
that?

What's going on here?

Well, nothing really.

It's just that apparently there are a
few nagging questions about your

whereabouts last night that your friends
would like you to shed some light on.

Isn't that right, guys? Oh, really?
Don't you ask?

Look, Jim, I wouldn't describe them as
nagging questions. They're just...

certain discrepancies about your night.
And wouldn't you say, guys... That's

all. I think I've provided a reasonable
explanation for what went on that

evening. Yes, yes, you have, Jim.
Everything you've said makes perfect

Thank you. It's just when you run it all
together.

Right.

Dear Lord, you don't believe me.

My closest friends don't believe me. I
am stunned.

You people should just be ashamed of
yourselves.

I want you to know, Jim, whatever your
story is, I believe you.

Story? What do you mean, my story?

Well, you know, your story, your version
of the facts. Oh, so now it's my

version. No, no, you misunderstood. No,
no, no, I think I understood quite well.

You're implying that my explanation of
that evening's events is a cover. No,

no, I'm not implying that.

Fabrication. No, Jim. An alibi, if you
will. Jim, you are twisting my words.

right. I want you to look me straight in
the eye and tell me.

You believe every single word is true.

Every word? Oh.

Jim,

we're really sorry. No, no, no. I don't
want your apologies.

The fact of the matter is, there is
something about me that's gone unsaid.

Something I've not been completely
opened about.

And it's time I shared my secret with
the world.

I can think of no better place to do it
than my commentary. So tomorrow night on

FYI, you will all hear the uncensored,
unvarnished truth about

the secret life of Jim Dye.

My money's on naked badminton.

Thank you, Corky, for those helpful tips
on holiday food preparation.

Who knew yams could kill?

I'll be back after this message with my
commentary.

And we're clear.

You know, Jim, you don't have to do
this. It's not too late to reconsider.

Murphy's right. There's no need to
subject yourself to this. Or the show.

spastic holes. You're wasting your
breath. My mind's made up. I'm ready to

the truth. There's no need, Jim. Don't
people get away from him?

Mr. Lansing, thank God you're here. I
have been pleading with him not to do

this. Good, Silverberg, good, because
otherwise we might actually get that 42

share that I'm so frightened of.

Get out of here.

Okay, sir, I'll just be quick. Get out!
All right, 30 seconds to air, people.

Jim, let's talk.

When I first heard you were throwing out
the low -profile strategy in order to

go public like this, I was very
disappointed.

But then I got your new angle. You're a
master manipulator. You're like Madonna

that way.

Did you hear? She wants to meet you.

I give you places, everybody.

Now remember, no matter what happens,
we're behind you 100%. Thank you, Stan.

That means a lot. Unless a revolted
American public turns against you. In

case, I'm going to have to dump you like
a load of hot bricks.

I need my neck pillow.

Silverberg, where are you hiding?

Here we go. In 5, 4, 3, 2...

Good evening and welcome back to...

Recent events have convinced me of the
need to address my much -publicized wild

night. It is time, as they say, for the
moment of truth.

Let me first say that I'm from the old
school.

Someone who still remembers when silence
was golden, mum was the word, and those

with skeletons kept them in the closet
where they belonged.

But those days are over.

Thus, I present you the truth about my
twisted, abnormal life.

Though I had hoped to avoid this, I must
confess, I have nothing to confess.

I am as normal as one can possibly be.

Now, judging by today's tell -all books,
that makes me our nation's number one

pervert.

In a world without stability, I remain
the same solid citizen I always was.

since no one else will say it, good for
me.

I come from a functional family.

I had a perfectly delightful childhood.

Loved my mother, adored my father, and
good for me.

Do something freakish.

I've been married to the same woman for
34 years.

You know how many women I've made love
to in my life?

One. And good for me.

The strongest drug I take is aspirin. My
weight has never fluctuated more than

three pounds since I started this job 19
years ago.

Occasionally, I have a dry martini
cocktail, but I always stop at one.

One martini, one job, one wife. All
right, fine.

You can call me stiff and boring.

I once considered it an insult, but I'll
wear that starched mantle proudly.

And good for me.

This has been another edition of FYI.
Thank you and good night.

And we're clear.

That's a wrap.

Oh, what the hell was that?

One, one, one.

Wait, don't talk. I can't hear you. I'm
being deafened by the sound of

television sets all over America
switching to another network.

Click, click. We're going to be fourth.

Silverberg, I want you in my office
tomorrow morning at 7 a .m. sharp. I'll

there around 10.

Wait, Mr. Lindsay. We've got other
scandals.

Frank's lactose intolerant. Maybe we can
do something with that.

Boy, do I feel silly.

Ditto.

I'll never assume your life is exciting
again.

You sure did.

I'd like to see them make a movie of the
week out of that confession.

I think I know who could play the title
role.

Block of Wood.

Hey, Jim, it's your wife.

Oh, my.

I hope I'm not in trouble.

Hello, Doris. Now, please, don't be too
angry about my discussing our marital

relations on national television. I felt
I had no choice.

Oh, really?

Well...

Yes. Goodbye.

Apparently, Doris has never seen my eyes
so ablaze with defiance.

She's catching a late plane back from
Florida, so if you'll excuse me, I'm off

for a rendezvous with a sultry redhead
who happens to be my wife.

And good for me.

Are you tired of doing stuff? Yes!

Then watch Easy TV Summer. It's four
effortless hours of your favorite show

followed by four equally effortless
hours of your other favorite show. Let

make it sound easy. Easy TV Summer
starts tomorrow at 10 only on Nick at