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Hi, Dick. Can you, uh, steal a minute before the show?
I'd like you to meet my mamacita, my madonna, my mater, Madroni.
Michael, please, I don't have my English gibberish dictionary.
My mother's out there. I don't see her very often. She's usually flitting the
globe with Paolo.
Paolo? Paolo.
Cassiano. The cellist? Her fourth husband.
He's in Boston to play Brahms or somebody.
So she's just run up here to see me produce my brains out.
And I've told her you're the element that really makes my show work.
Your show.
Vermont Today starring Dick Loudon.
Give me a break, Dick. When your mother's here, we'll say it's your show.
Oh, by the by, Dick, I found some people who want to purchase commercial time on
Vermont Today, and they want you to be their spokesperson.
Michael, I really don't see myself hawking products.
Dick, Dick, dismount from that high horse.
Houseman and Olivier have done commercials, and they had reputations to
Read the script. The Queen of England would be honored to appear in this.
Yeah, she and I are always up for the same parts.
So I finally told the stewardess, my dear, we bought this cello a ticket. If
there are too many passengers, perhaps you can slide them under the seats.
Well, you know how Paolo hates scenes.
Speaking of scenes, Mom, this is my Vermont Today set.
Michael, you designed this?
Well, I didn't actually hold the pencil.
Oh.
But I worked closely with a man who did. He was wondering how people would enter
and exit. I said, how about a door?
Voila.
Very resourceful.
Ernie, move this plant. It violates the aesthetic balance of the set.
Okay, Mr. Harris, but it's covering that burn in the rug from the time that fire
eater belched.
Oh, yes, well, better leave it where it is. And tell the others. Anybody who
touches that plant answers to me.
All right, Mr. Harris.
Well, if nothing else, you do seem to have the respect of your men.
Michael, you conniving weasel. I read the commercial.
Oh, hi. Hi there.
Dick Loudon, Mrs. Lily Cassiano.
The weasel's mother.
Uh, listen, I, you know, I didn't mean... Oh, no, no, no, no, no need to
explain, Mr. Loudon.
When creative people show fire, I know it was ignited by a divine spark.
Yeah.
That's, that's the way it, you know, it fell in here.
Phone call from Mrs. Cassiano?
Oh, it must be Paolo. Excuse me.
Michael, I'm sorry, but you forgot to mention that the commercial is for Swiss
-style dog food.
Oh, didn't I? It's a taco product. It's shaped like little chocolate bars.
Pooch thinks he's getting a forbidden treat.
The script calls for me to wear those leather shorts.
Dick the Grandfather in Heidi wore them, and he's one of the most beloved
characters. Michael, I'm not... I'm not doing the commercial. Try to get that
through your thick... handsome face.
Michael, dear, I have to go. Go? But, Mom, you just got here. Well, it's
He's gotten himself in a mood. And if I don't go comfort him, he won't be able
to play a note.
Brahms needs me.
But, Mom, you can't just go. You haven't met Stephanie.
You haven't seen my show. I wanted to show you everything I've done with this
place. I think you'd be pretty impressed.
Michael, dear, Matisse is impressive.
Mozart is impressive.
This is all very well, but you're 28 years old, and what are you?
Perhaps I can stop by later in the week. I'll give your love to Paolo. Ciao.
Great to see you.
Hi, Michael. Stephanie's getting dressed. Yeah, fine. Dick.
Joanna, you're a tasteful sort of guy and gal.
I want you to listen to something and tell me what you think.
Michael, you might consider, you know, taking lessons.
Oh, I've had hundreds of lessons.
When I was a kid, I studied violin day and night until my teacher begged me to
stop.
Michael, why do you suddenly want to be a violinist?
Oh, look at me, Joanna. I'm 28 years old, and what am I? Well, that's silly.
You're a very talented producer, right, Dick?
Honey, he doesn't need to hear it from both of us.
Thanks, you two, for the attempted coddle.
But I'm here to talk turkey.
What's the verdict?
Michael, you know, it's too soon to tell after only hundreds of lessons.
Dick, did I just hear a cat screaming? It sounded
like somebody was trying to pick it up with pliers.
played the violin?
Well,
I think all the reviews are in.
Michael, what about your date with Stephanie?
Michael, is this dress dazzling or just arresting?
Where did Michael go?
Certainly not to the Grammy Awards.
You never come to production meetings. Well, I'm coming today.
Michael has mentioned a thing about this week's show.
Where is he?
Half an hour late. Third time this week.
Hey, Dick, you want to be in the pool betting on when Michael gets fired?
Yeah, Bev's really had it with him.
I've got five dollars on noon tomorrow.
What looks good to you, Dick?
No one's getting fired.
Let's start the meeting.
Whoa, whoa, whoa, what's love got to do, got to do with it? Pardon?
All right, who's this week's guest?
We can start a pool on that.
Are you saying that Michael never mentioned who the guest is going to be?
don't think Michael's here, Dick.
Hi, guys.
I hear Michael's AWOL, again.
Uh, he isn't AWOL exactly. He's just... God knows where.
But we don't really need them for this meeting. As a matter of fact, we started
without them. Good. I'll sit in.
What?
I'm sitting in. I'm the station manager. I can do that.
Hey.
Great.
So, who's the guest this week?
Bev, we usually open these meetings with a...
A little prayer.
Hi, all. Sorry I'm late. My ballet class ran over.
Dick, taking an interest in production, are we?
Bev, great pearl.
Oh, what about this week's guest?
Yeah, what about him? Norton Firth?
The pie -eating champion?
He's going for the world's record for gooseberry.
Here's some background on him.
Always like pies?
Well, that's our show. Looks like a winner. And good job, everybody.
Michael? Not now, Dick. I've got to get in some work on my epic poem.
The Iliad 2.
The day after.
Bye, all.
Michael!
Now, that's... That's what I call a good producer. Not... Not a second wasted.
He is the good producer.
But if he screws up one more time, he's fired.
Have you...
Given any thought as to what time you might need it?
I don't understand. How are you going to interview a guy while he's stuffing
pies down his throat?
It shouldn't be so hard. I've already laid out a few questions.
Would you like a napkin?
Hi, all. Oh, hi, Michael. Stephanie, Michael's here.
Michael, I think I should warn you. Bev is this close to firing you. Oh, not
now, Dick. I think I finally found my creative medium.
Conceptual art.
I'm showing it to Mom tomorrow, but I've arranged for a sneak preview. It's out
on the lawn.
Bad news, Dick.
Somebody just dumped garbage on the lawn.
What?
So, what do you think?
Michael, you have an hour to clean up your medium.
I'm trying to make a statement, Dick. This expresses my despair over the
of nuclear devastation. It's ugly.
Michael, are you okay?
You don't seem to be able to concentrate on anything.
Oh, stop worrying. I'm fine.
Two, three, four.
Okay, Michael, take one look and commence Wolf Whistle.
He's not here again?
Well, if it'll make you feel any better.
Yo, what a babe!
Mr. Loudon, I'm Winston Bedell.
We're all very excited.
I'm... I'm excited for you.
What is it that's got us all abuzz?
Swiss -style dog food. And having you as its spokesman.
I... Didn't Michael Harris call you? Not since he told us you were gaga to do
the commercial.
Aha.
Well, it's a good thing you dropped by. This way you won't spend a lot of money
for sets, studio rental, that kind of thing.
Ready for you, Dick.
What?
There must be a misunderstanding. I told Mr.
Harris that I wasn't going to do the commercial.
He should have explained that to me.
Without you, there's no commercial.
Well, I guess the thing to do is take this up with his boss.
Doggone.
Yeah, I guess if I don't do it, you're just going to go with the Queen of
England.
This is what you're going to be wearing.
No, no, I'm not.
Well, if you insist.
But we're not all as excited as we used to be.
Okay, here's a rundown, Dick.
You read the cards, pat the bench, the dog jumps up, licks your face, we're out
of here.
Brian, let's get it over with. Hi, I'm Dick Loudon, and this is a bowl of
Bedell's Swiss -style dog food.
Looks like chocolate, nourishes like nobody's business.
Make your pet as grateful as this little fella... Hold it!
Why, what's the matter? You're supposed to pat the bench.
The dog jumps up next to you and licks your face?
The dog knew it.
He was just waiting for his cue.
Take it back to it looks like chocolate.
Looks like chocolate nourishes like nobody's business.
Make your dog as grateful as this little fella here. Cut! He didn't lick.
Now, was that his fault or was I supposed to pull his tongue out for him?
How do you make the dog lick?
I don't know.
Want him to roll over and play dead?
Great, bud.
That'll sell a lot of dog food.
Hey, look.
What's in that sandwich?
Liverwurst.
He likes it, doesn't he?
I've got it.
We take some of the liverwurst, we rub it all over Dick's face. No!
Fine.
Nice, supportive, creative environment you're building here.
Dick.
Mr. Loudon has a point. Maybe we should call this off. I'll just go talk to the
station. Oh, okay.
Rub me with liverwurst.
All right.
The station's buying me another sandwich.
Okay. Let's take it from it looks like chocolate.
Roll take.
Looks like chocolate.
Nourishes like nobody's business.
Make your dog as grateful...
Is this little fella here?
Oh, come on. I don't believe this.
Hey, you know what my dog likes?
Ice cream. No good. Ice cream would show up on Dick's face.
Not if you put it in his ear.
You're a genius.
Go to the machine.
Wait, wait a minute.
What's your favorite flavor, Dick? To listen to?
Look, this is where I draw the line. No ice cream in my ears.
Hey, how's the commercial going?
Just great.
Well, don't let me hold you up. I'll just stand over here and watch.
Strawberry, Ernie.
Steph.
Michael, you've walked out on me twice.
I think you owe me an apology and a precious dome.
Steph, can we talk while I paint? Mom just called. She's back in town, and I
only have a few more minutes to achieve something of lasting importance.
Children with big ears?
Well, the ones with big eyes got a lot of attention.
Michael, those kids were cute.
These kids need plastic surgery.
Well, maybe I can finish the first chapter of my novel.
He gave her a laconic smile.
Don't give me that laconic smile, she snapped.
Thus continued Harriet and Morty's laconic relationship.
Tonic was my word for the day.
Michael.
Come and sit down.
The violin?
Why are you ignoring me and doing all these really unimportant things?
Steph, I'm trying to find my talent.
Talent? What do you want that for?
That's the only thing my mother respects.
I've been trying to come up with one as long as I can remember.
One time in school, I made this clay squirrel with a bushy tail and a little
in its paws.
I was so proud.
And I brought it home to show Mom.
And she liked it? She called it derivative and threw it in the trash.
Didn't your mother know anything about raising a child?
Every time I made anything in school, my parents would buy it.
In the third grade, I took in $20 ,000 just making tracings of my hands.
I wish I'd had your parents, Steph.
Well, after the...
Squirrel incident.
I made up my mind to abandon all hope of creativity and become a producer.
But you love being a producer.
That's not important. Like being an artist.
It's better.
Producers have big houses and cars.
You almost never hear the word starving in front of producers.
True.
Artists are poor, have nervous breakdowns, and amputate portions of
Now, which one sounds good to you?
Well, I'd be a fool to be anything but a producer if you put it that way.
Oh, my God, she's here. And nothing's finished.
Steph, stall her. I've only got four chapters to go.
You are not letting that woman push you around anymore.
And that's an order.
Hello, Michael.
Carissimo. Hi.
Well, this is...
Certainly a long overdue meeting.
Mamacita.
Cupcake.
Oh, my. Is this Stephanie?
You're even lovelier than I imagined.
Thank you.
Michael, carve her up.
Mom, I've got something... I've got something important to say.
I've never wanted to be an artist, and I like what I'm doing right now.
Well, I'm sure it's very pleasant, but you're 28 years old, and what are you?
Well, I do have a novel in the works.
Michael, how can you let her say that?
But, Steph, she's right. I'm 28 years old, and what am I? You're 27.
I'm 27?
I'm 27.
I'm 27.
You were wrong, Mom.
All right.
You're 27, and what are you?
Not so fast.
That's kind of a glaring error, isn't it? A mother's supposed to know how old
her child is.
Mine does.
She's just not allowed to say.
Very well, I was mistaken about your age.
Well, maybe that's not the only thing you were wrong about, Mom.
That's the point.
Why am I learning words for you?
Why am I writing novels?
am I painting kids who look like Dumbo?
Why should I listen to anything from anyone who's so self -involved? She
even know how old I am.
Are you through?
No.
I've just begun.
I'm 27 years old. I'm a producer, and I'm good at it. I like it. That's what I
am. If you can accept that, terrific.
If you can't,
You can leave now, and I don't think we should see each other.
Well, my plane isn't for a couple of hours, and... You did promise me dinner.
A smashing dinner.
I'll ride it off to the station.
Producers can do that, you know.
Michael, I've never seen you so focused, so passionate.
If only you could channel that into art.
Mom.
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