All language subtitles for murphy_brown_s08e10_the_humboldt_doldt

Hello, I'm Murphy Brown. You must be my
new secretary.

Irma Keaton, 104 years old and still
going strong.

I'm the world's oldest living secretary,
you know. Really? Well, isn't that

wonderful? Congratulations.

For what?

I've been a secretary for 83 years.

My last promotion was during the cheap
hot dough scandal.

You know, it might be a little late to
be hearing this, Irma, but did you ever

think it might be your attitude?

That's what Calvin Coolidge said.

Hello, FYI.

I'm a busy man.

have time to engage in mindless banter.
So, Mr. Lansing, what brings you down to

FYI? That's banter, Silverberg.

Last night, Dateline, Katie Couric, was
doing this charming story about a family

with quintuplets celebrating their very
first Thanksgiving.

I like this Katie Couric. She has great
hair.

You know, if I was a woman, I'd think
I'd want Katie Couric's kind of hair.

And you'd look lovely, sir.

But Quintuple's Thanksgiving... Miller's
doing a Quintuple Thanksgiving story

tonight on Front and Center. That's what
I'm trying to tell you, Silverberg. You

think I came all the way down here to
discuss Katie Korg's damn hair?

If I had, we would be engaged in...
Banter?

Correct! You win a cigar! I'm joking!
I'm a funny guy, but I'm serious!

You didn't know about our little story
problem, did you, Silverberg? No.

I mean, I usually watch Stateline, but
Corky and I got into a discussion last

night about our marriage, and she
accused me of using work talk as a

to real communication, and I'm betting
this is more than you really wanted to

know.

You and Sherwood married?

I had no idea.

Congratulations.

I should get you a present.

Oh, Mr. Lansing, that's not necessary.

Here's your present. You're not fired.

Now get another story by tonight, or I'm
taking my present back.

Look at this. I'm walking away and
nobody says goodbye, Stan. Oh, goodbye,

You had your chance, Fontana.

Hi, Stan.

Miller?

Yeah, you're right. Thanks.

Miller, we've got a major crisis on our
hands. Dateline just ran your quintuplet

story. Yeah, I know. How was it?

You knew about this?

Sure, I ran into Katie Couric a couple
of weeks ago. She told me what she was

working on. And, you know, I thought,
hey, that's exactly the kind of story we

should be doing on Front and Center.

You can't do the same story another show
did.

Why not? It's quintuplets.

Five babies, two shows.

That's 2 .5 babies per show.

More than enough babies for everybody.

Do you have any idea how wrong that is?
Hey, pal, check the math yourself.

Only...

Don't touch that little C button or you
have to start all over again.

Miles, you've got to hear the new
greeting on Barbara Walters' answering

machine, but don't be surprised if it
sounds a little like me telling filthy

-color jokes. I cracked her code.

We're going to have a major emergency.

We can't run Miller's quintuplet story
tonight. He stole it from Dateline.

What? You stole a story?

Even after that talk we had about where
bad journalists go when they die?

Yeah.

I asked Geraldo about that. He said it's
not true.

What you did was totally unethical. We
don't have time for this.

We go on the air in eight hours. Now,
there has got to be a solution.

Think.

Think.

Hey, wait a second.

What are we doing again?

You have something? No, that was...

I have nothing. Of course I have
something. We can do that midnight

story that's been kicking around.

What? That's my story. Hey, that's a
great idea.

Of course it is. It's my story.

Midnight basketball?

It's a program to give inner city kids
an alternative to drugs and games, but

they're shutting down because they've
lost funding.

So? Hey, here's a hundred bucks. Balls
for everyone.

Problem solved.

I just don't see a story here.

Miles, you can't just take a story from
FYI and give it to front and center. Not

unless I get permission from FYI's
executive producer. And what with him

me, I think I can talk myself into it.

Okay, time is short. We're all going to
have to pitch in. That is my story. Oh,

I get it.

You're all too busy to help me.

Me, your executive producer, your
friend, and in some cases, your husband.

people ought to be ashamed of
yourselves.

You get your budgets approved.

Who gets you tickets to all the network
sporting events?

Who's secretly been taking ballroom
dancing lessons so he won't embarrass

wife at her cousin's cotillion?

You're doing that? Oh, that's so sweet.
You're damn right it is. So I don't

think it's too much to ask for a little
help just this once.

All right.

Frank?

No.

She's just doing this because it's her
show. If I were doing a show with Miller

and I wanted to steal a story from you,
you wouldn't help me.

And if the Earth suddenly spun off its
axis and crashed into the sun, we'd all

be dead. Get with the program, Frank.

All right, but I am not happy. Okay,
okay, we have got a lot to get done by

tonight, but we can do it because we are
the best damn group of journalists

there ever was.

Anyone got any lip balm? I'm chapping
like crazy here.

With one glaring exception.

Okay, time for the three -minute office.

Corky, I need footage.

Most troubling is that these criminal
organizations have apparently been

attempting to smuggle nuclear weapons
technology and materials out of the

country and auction them off to the
highest bidder. Run it up illegal. Run

illegal. Look, I still need that graphic
for midnight basketball. It has to be

dramatic, evoking the crushing sadness
of the lost hopes and betrayed dreams of

a neglected generation.

All right, just draw me a basketball.

Almost there. How do you spell
benevolence? This is Miller Frank. Spell

-O -D.

When we return, we'll have Miller
Redfield's compelling report on the

dismantling of an anti -crime program.

And we're into commercial.

Should we just stay there?

I have the last piece of footage, but I
couldn't find any kids playing midnight

basketball. So what do you have? Kids
playing street hockey during a solar

eclipse.

It's a sport. It's dark. It's thematic.
Go.

Frank, you gotta work in street hockey.
Street hockey.

I'm on it.

Okay, here are the interview questions
for Miller. I mark what his attitude

should be on each one. See, smiley faces
mean happy and frowny faces mean sad.

Good idea. Frank's thinking some smiley
and frowny faces.

Faces. I'm on it.

Maya, the only still photo I have of the
program director is from 1968 when he

met the Beatles. Frank, love beads and
Ringo.

Ringo? I'm on it.

There you are. Did you catch up with
Congressman Williams?

Well, not exactly.

But I did find proof that funds from the
basketball program are being funneled

into pork barrel projects in his
district.

Frank!

Funnel! Pork!

Got it! Good job, everybody!

Change of plans.

I went with the Paisley. It's beautiful.
Get out there!

All right, so, uh...

Which prompter am I reading this off of?

Oh, God. The teleprompter!

In five, four, three, two... Welcome
back.

With fear of violent crime having
reached epidemic proportions, a cry has

out for more police, more prisons,
harsher sentences.

Amidst this uproar, there remain a few
quiet voices of compassion.

Unfortunately, with the passage of a
Republican crime bill last month,

of those voices was silenced.

And much like a solar eclipse cast its
shadow over the earth, the politics of

intolerance have cast a shadow over the
future of America's children.

I'm Miller Redfield for Front and
Center.

Good night.

this tie and say that.

This was exhilarating. I thought those
amateurs at Dateline couldn't put a

together with his fans.

You know what I was just thinking?
Wouldn't it be hilarious if after all

hard work we did, Miller got a Humboldt
nomination for this?

That'd be hysterical. Of course, if he
does, I'm gonna kill him.

I'm gonna kill him.

Is this a great night or what?

Hey, you know, you may find this hard to
believe.

I've been in this business for 12 years,
and I have never, ever been nominated

for an award.

Fine bottles.

Oh,

wow, there's Walter Cronkite.

Hey, you know, rumor has it he lets
people rub his tummy for luck.

I'm gonna go say hi.

This is unbelievable.

We do all the work, and he gets all the
credit.

Like making passionate love to a woman
and have her scream out someone else's

name.

Guy, talk. You hear things.

You know, I really feel sorry for that
guy.

Sorry? For Miller?

No, for that old waiter who Miller
thinks is Walter Cronkite.

Look, we're all upset, but I know for a
fact... that Miller is not going to win.

Why, you have some kind of inside
information?

I just believe in God.

And I refuse to believe that God would
let someone as undeserving as Miller

Redfield win a Humboldt.

Interesting. So, God sits on the
sidelines while the Ebola virus rages

Zaire, but when it comes to the fate of
a stupid glass statuette, suddenly he

springs into action.

What?

For a veteran newsman, Cronkite isn't
quite the expert you might think.

Attention, please. It's time to continue
with the awards presentation.

Our next award is for Individual
Achievement in Reporting.

Oh, wow, that's my category. Everybody,
wish me luck.

That's my story.

And the nominees are Dan Rather,
Aftermath in Oklahoma City.

Ed Bradley for Canada, A Nation Divided.

Miller Redfield.

The Sun Sets on Midnight Basketball.

And Katie Couric, A Quintuplet
Thanksgiving.

And the winner is... Not Miller, not
Miller, not Miller. Miller Redfield.

I can't believe

it. You know, I was talking to Walter
Cronkite earlier.

And he said something I will never
forget.

I asked him if he had any advice for me
on this special evening, and he said, in

that Italian accent of his, I recommend
the chicken.

Anyway, you know you don't win an award
like this by yourself, no?

No, it takes a little something called
teamwork.

So I'd like to take a moment to thank
all the people who helped me win this

award.

Steve, my hair guy.

Dude. Chloe, my fashion coordinator.

My makeup lady.

Murphy.

Murphy, what's the name of my makeup
lady?

Man, look at him. It's not fair.

I can't believe you didn't thank us
after all the hard work we did. It's

like Christmas.

When all the skinny, overworked elves
kill themselves to make all the toys,

who's the big old tub of lard who gets
cookies everywhere he goes? Mr. Ho -ho

-ho, then.

Come on, elves. That toy's going down.
I'm with you.

Now, just hold it right there.

This is the Humboldt Awards,
journalism's finest hour.

It's not about getting credit.

It's about honoring excellence in a
craft to which we have devoted our

Jim's right.

Besides, you think people aren't going
to know the truth? I mean, let's face

it doesn't take a genius to figure out
that that story couldn't possibly have

been done by Miller Redfield. How about
that, Miller Redfield?

Holy mackerel, who thought he would have
talent like that? All of you can learn

a thing or two from that boy.

Anybody who could come up with a
Humboldt award -winning story on such

notice deserves a big raise and maybe a
shot at the evening news.

What's the matter, Fontana? You sound
like you're leaking something.

What would you say if I told you that
Miller had no responsibility for that

story, that we did all the work and
Frank wrote the copy and Miller did

I'd say bull the dash.

I saw that story. Miller had such
passion, such flair.

Fontana, give me another word for
passion.

Uh, verve?

Verve! What the hell kind of word is
verve?

Makes my teeth vibrate.

You expect me to believe Fontana wrote
that story? I say, ball the dash.

Excuse me. Katie, what was the name of
that shampoo you mentioned?

No one in their right mind would believe
Miller was responsible for that story.

You can't count Lansing. He wanted the
spiced -up murder she wrote by giving

Angela Lansbury a talking car.

Besides, trust me, anyone who works in
journalism will know the truth.

Hello, everybody.

How are you?

Boy, were all of you as surprised by
Miller as I was?

Tell me about it. I never knew he had
that kind of talent.

By the way, has anyone noticed what a
smut mouth that Barbara Walters has

become?

So I was wrong. I'm going over there
right now, and I'm going to make Miller

admit he had nothing to do with that
story. The least he could do is say

you. Hey, if we do it right, the most
he'll be able to say is thank you. No,

no.

For goodness' gratitude, if it's not
heartfelt. We all know what we did, even

no one else does, and it's good enough
for me.

It's true. I mean, we didn't become
journalists just so we could win awards.

Look, the basketball story got done, and
it was great. Who cares if nobody knows

it was us?

Exactly. We all know the truth. We'll
always know it, and we can take that to

our grave.

where it will die with us, never to be
known by another living soul.

Well, to hell with it. Let's go bring a
thank you out of that little bastard

Nick.

Hey, guys.

You know, I feel terrible.

I mean, I have been incredibly selfish.
I've been over here answering all these

questions about me and my story. And, I
don't know, I thought, hey, maybe you

guys might like to answer some questions
about me and my story.

Come on, Murphy, you go first.

With pleasure.

Murphy, we'd like to get your reaction
to Miller winning the Humboldt.

Oh, I think I can come up with a little
something.

Great. As someone who's won countless
Humboldts, you've come to embody the

and dignity of this award.

How do you feel about being a role model
for a whole new generation of award

-winning journalists like Miller
Redfield?

A role model?

Well, I'd just like to say that...

I'm delighted with the excellence
rewarded.

Excuse me.

But, Jim, she had a golden opportunity
to blow the whistle on Miller, and she

just stood there with that resigned
expression on her face.

She looked just like my Uncle Cletus
right before he got hit by a cigarette

boat.

If I know our Murphy, she's just biding
her time, waiting for the perfect moment

to give Miller his due. I don't know.
You know, I'm really worried about her.

This morning, I checked Miller's office.

No fire ants, no bear traps, and from
the way he's walking, there is not even

one drop of liquid heat in his
underwear.

Oh, hello, slugger. Well,

now, look... This, a magazine with Newt
Gingrich on the cover, just waiting to

be defaced. And what have we here? Black
marking pens located conveniently

nearby?

Sorry, I'm just not in the mood.

Well, for Pete's sake, this has gone on
long enough.

Isn't it about time you stopped moping
around and got back at Miller?

Really, Murphy?

He's been strutting around here all week
like the cock of the walk.

I mean, the same thing here as it does
in Louisiana, right?

I still don't know why you didn't expose
him when you had the chance.

Well, I wanted to. I really did. But
then he stuck that microphone in my

and I realized it wouldn't change
anything, and I'd just come off as

small and petty.

Since when has that ever stopped you?

Besides, you had a week. Surely you
could have exacted some immature revenge

now. We looked you for that.

What's the point? Miller won the
Humboldt, and no amount of poisonous

electrified toilet seats is going to
change that.

So what are we supposed to do then,
Murphy?

I don't know. Forget about it, I guess.

Maybe the universe will dispense some
kind of justice eventually.

Oh, no. I'm not falling for that old
song and dance again.

Oh, Murphy.

I've got an idea for tonight's show.

Yes, Miller. Well, I think that you
should refer to me as Humboldt Award

-winning journalist Miller Redfield.

Oh, and I talked to the credit guy, and
we agreed that the most recent Humboldt

winner's name should come first.

And that would be me.

See you down there.

Wait, Miller.

Did it ever occur to you that just
maybe, you didn't do this story all by

yourself, that just maybe you had a
little bit of help?

Wow.

Are you saying that maybe I should have
shared some of the credit on this story?

Yeah, Miller, that's what I'm saying.

Boy, you don't get nominated for one
year and this is what happens.

How do you live with yourself?

20 seconds to air, ladies and people.

Have a good show, Miller. You too,
Murphy.

Whoa. What?

Your breath.

Are you really going to go on television
in front of millions of viewers with

your breath smelling like an old fishing
boat?

Yikes. Here, have a mint.

Oh, thank you.

Whoa.

Minty.

In five, four, three, two.

Good evening.

Live from Washington, D .C., I'm Murphy
Brown, and you are Front and Center.

Tonight, we take you from the world of
international athletic competition to a

testing ground for the latest
battlefield attire.

But before we begin, I'd like to extend
congratulations to my colleague, Miller

Redfield, on winning his first Humboldt
Award.

Thank you very much.

Mind I say, it's part of an honor.

That was weird.

Wait, did you see that?

Oh, that blue stuff coming out of your
mouth? Not really. Here, have some

Oh, thank you.

I have to tell you, nothing like that
has ever happened to me before.

Boy, this one is really fun.

I'm sorry, Miller, I didn't quite catch
that.

My fuck is numb.

And we're coming out of commercial?

No, no, no, we can't come out of
commercial. My fuck is numb.

Welcome back. In a moment, you'll meet
world kickboxing champion Jerry O

an inspiring young man who took up
martial arts in response to ridicule

his childhood speech impediment.

Speech impediment?

Oh, no.

I thought I didn't get up on you.

The story begins in a small town outside
of Akron, Ohio.

Tape is rolling and we're clear.

Good thing the Humboldt Committee wasn't
watching tonight.

I can't get up.

I'm stuck and my tongue is numb.

What was that? Were you expressing your
sincere and heartfelt gratitude on all

the help we gave you on your Humboldt
winning story?

No.

My underwear really started to burn.

It's a

nice

thought, Miller, but it's a little late.

Mommy, what do you do tomorrow?

It's no humble, but it'll do. Well, what
took you so long?

I was waiting for the universe to defend
some justice, but sometimes the

universe is just too damn slow.

I'm going to get you for this movie,
Brown.

This is not over.

The effects of putting Nair in someone's
styling gel, however, only take a few

minutes.