All language subtitles for Dream On (1990) S04E03 AI.en

"'A-okay,' said Dr. Gratonis,
'All systems go.'

And as they slowly orbited
the rings of Saturn,

Captain Starglider launched
his heat-seeking missile

into Princess Nemo's love target

over, over and over again."

- I can't listen to that!
- Uh-huh.

"'Fill me up, Earth Man,'
she cried.

But her deafening shrieks
of pleasure went unnoticed.

Because in space,
no one can hear you scream."

Pretty great, huh?

Vernon, I'm not seeing
a story here.

No, no story. No drama.

Just two-dimensional characters
fucking each other
all over the solar system.

- Exactly.
- You've got yourself a deal.

- All right. Great.
- Wait a minute!

Wait a minute, Gibby,
I think we should discuss this.

There's nothing to discuss,
Marty.

Look under the desk.
I'm stiffer than a drain pipe.

I'm sure you are,
and with all due respect
to you and Vernon,

I-- I think we should
put this book...

...in the hold pile,
for now.

Very interesting, Marty.

And I suppose if I gave
a flying monkeys
about your opinion,

I'd give it some consideration.

But since I don't,
just keep your mouth shut,

and pressed firmly
to my buttocks where it belongs.

Now I want a synopsis
on my desk tomorrow, got it?

Right then.

Welcome aboard, Verny.

I'll kill him!

So, do you have a title yet?

Well...

I'm thinking something epic,

like The Empire Sucks Dick.

Why do I do this?
Why do I do it?

Oh.

- What's this for?
- The boys upstairs have
been huddled around all day.

Something major's happening.

I think we're going prime time.

Hey, congratulations.

Hey, Eddie. Great show.

- Thank you.
- Could we powwow for a minute?

Uh, sure.

Oh, excuse me, I'll just--

Oh, no, no, no. Stay.

Uh, Bob,
you remember Martin Tupper?

Uh, from my agency.

Sure.
We met at the NATP Convention.

Or was it MIPCOM?

Uh, the--

the second one, the MIPCOM.

Right. Right.

Uh, well, now, Ed, we've been--

Excuse me.

Hello. Oh, hi, honey.

It's my wife.
It'll just be a second.

Uh, Jeanette,
can I call you back?

Okay, okay. Yeah.

Anyway, Martin, we have been
giving a lot of thought

to the future of the show.

That's great, that's great.

And shouldn't we,
uh, wait for Eddie?

Uh, look, Jeanette,
I-- I can't talk right now.

Yeah. Yeah.
I'm kind of in a meeting.

Of course I care
about your feelings.

Well, I can just
run this by you.

See, we would like to take
the show a little deeper.

Give it a new spin.
A new format, if you will.

A new format? No kidding.

Eddie,
we're talking new formats here.

Jeanette, they're
talking new formats here.

Okay. Okay, maybe "format"
wasn't the right word.

Actually, we've decided
to go with another host.

Oh, two hosts, you mean,
like, Eddie and a co-host.

No, just the co-host.

The co-host is the only host.

Where's Eddie?

Eddie's out.

Jeanette? Jeanette?
I'm hanging up the phone.

No. Yes. I'm hang-- Jeanette?

Bye.

So, what's the good word?

Well, Eddie, we have been
giving the future of the show

a lot of thought.

And we'd like
to take it a little deeper.

Stop jerking them around,
will you?

Eddie, you're out.

You're out, okay?

They're going with another host.

Well, that just
about sums it up.

Yeah, but--
but you can't do that.

It-- it's my show.

The Eddie Charles Show.

I mean, without Eddie Charles,
the title makes no sense.

Got a good point.
Yeah, we must address that.

I gave you people
five fucking years of my life.

My blood
is out there on that stage!

Oh, don't think
that we don't appreciate it.

That is why
we are going to give you this.

Uh, well, Martin,
I've got to run.

Oh, Eddie, what can I say?

We wish you luck
in whatever it is
you're going to do.

You haven't heard
the last of us!

Nobody treats
Eddie Charles like this,
this man is a major star.

- Ciao.
- You're gonna regret this.

Our foot soldiers are gonna be
marching up and down Broadway!

- And I--
- Shut up, Martin.

It's no good to make friends.

Because when
a friend gets it, it's--

Well, it's rough on you.

Those assholes, how can they
say my show's not deep?

That piece on the hookers
in the recession, that was deep.

Of course it was.

Oh, and what about--
What the hell?

Hey! Hey.
What the hell happened here?

- Anything missing, huh?
- No.

It's just all wrinkled.

Oh, great, first I lose my show,

now my clothes
are all messed up.

I'm going to kill that maid.

Eddie,
it's a note from Jeanette.

"Dear Eddie,
I can't dive with you anymore."

What?

I think it says "live."

"I can't live with you anymore.

I want a di--

A divorce."

Get down!

I can't believe this!

Eddie, I knew you guys
were having problems.

Of all night, she has to pick
the night I lose my show.

Can you read this?
What's this word?

"S-- s--"

"You are the most shallow,

self-centered, immature,
and shallow person

I've ever met."

All right,
you said shallow twice.

I didn't say anything.
I'm just reading.

-"It is totally odorous--"
- Obvious.

"Obvious that you care more

about some
idiotic television show

than me or this marriage."

Bullshit! First of all,
my show is not idiotic.

Second of all, I've never
put it in front of our marriage.

Well, you did
cancel the honeymoon.

I forgot, it was Sweeps week.
What was I supposed to do?
Show reruns?

And you missed her
mother's funeral to go to
the Daytime Emmy Awards, right?

I was nominated!
Jesus, whose side
are you on here?

I'm just saying.

Look, Eddie,
maybe it's not too late.

You know, I mean,
maybe you can still talk to her.

Oh, man. It's over.

You know, at first,
when we used to fight,

we would make up, and we'd have
this really great sex.

Then after a while,
the sex wasn't so great.

And then, I don't know,
we-- we just stopped making up.

I'm really sorry, you know?

I mean, if there's
anything I can do to help,

you know,
I'm-- I'm here for you.

Oh, man,
what am I gonna do tomorrow?

- Eddie.
- I mean, I'm gonna wake up.

I got no wife, I got no job.
What am I gonna do?

You do have
quite a bit of ironing.

No, Vernon, no.
That title is unacceptable.

I am not publishing a book
called A Game From Ur-anus.

You're right, too intellectual.
I'll think of something else.

- Thank you.
- See you, Marty.

Hey, sweetheart, going down?

- Toby, what time
is my lunch with Eddie?
- How should I know?

Because I specifically asked you
to make reservations.

- Did you?
- No.

Did you at least order us
the box seats
for tonight's game?

Hey, who am I,
Julie from The Love Boat?

I got work to do here.

Fine. Fine.
Why don't I just do it myself?

Look, I got Yahtzee!

Go away.

What do you mean, "Go away"?
I got a basketball here.

Marty,
please, just-- just go away.

Come on, Eddie, you can't just
mope around by yourself all day.

Eddie, it's not
good for you, you know?

You gotta go out,
and do stuff, you know,
and hang out with your friends.

Take your mind off things.

Kelly, I'm sorry about this.

It's okay, I gotta help
take out a gallbladder at 3:00.

Life goes on, buddy, you know?

I mean, you gotta
get back on that horse--

I'll call you. Hi.

Hello.

Quite an improvement.

Sorry.
I didn't know you had company.

No, that's okay, come on in.

Well, I'm glad to see
you're feeling better.

I'm not, man.

Jeanette was right.
I am shallow.

No, I mean it,
when other people get depressed,

they write poetry
or cut off their ears.

What do I do? I have sex.
Empty, meaningless sex.

Well, there are worse ways
of dealing with depression.

Ah, it's pathetic.
Take a look at me.

- Come on.
- No, take a long,
hard look at me.

I mean,
beneath the handsome exterior

and expensive clothes,
what do you see?

No, tell me,
what do you really see?

Well, I see...

...a lot, you know,
there's a lot of stuff there.

There's nothing there, admit it.

That's not true, come on, Eddie.

Let's go
shoot some hoops, will you?

I mean, you've been
in this apartment too long.

Nah, man, I don't think so.

We're hooked up together, Eddie.

You getting a jam,
I getting a jam.

Eddie, don't be so hard
on yourself, you know?

I mean, you haven't
always been this shallow.

Well, just for like,
the last 10 or 12 years.

Martin, I'm 39 years old,
I have no job,

I'm incapable of having
a meaningful relationship.

I can't even
open a fucking bottle.

It's not a twist-off.

I can't even read anymore.
My life is over.

Save him! Please!

You know what? You're right.

You're right, your life is over.

And is that
such a bad thing, huh?

You've got a clean slate now.
You can do anything you want.

Like what?

Take tennis lessons.

You know,
learn another language, or, uh--

I don't know,
uh, start a magazine.

You always
talked about that, right?

I mean, come on,
how cool would that be?

Eddie Charles' Pizzazz.

On sale
at newsstands everywhere.

I mean, your name alone
would sell a million copies.

I mean, think about it,
it could be real journalism,

you know,
with some depth and substance.

I don't know.

Eddie,
you could be your own boss.

You wouldn't have to
deal with any asshole
executives, you know?

Keep your mouth shut,
and pressed firmly
to my buttocks where it belongs.

A ridiculous, idiotic guess.

Fill me up, Earthman!

And I could help you.

Eddie, we--
we could do it together.

You know, I know the writers,
and you've got your contacts.

Uh, Martin, I think
you should just forget about it.

What, are you afraid?

"Well, I don't
wanna start a magazine.
It's too scary.

I just want to stay inside,
and feel sorry for myself,

and try to open this bottle."

Shut the fuck up.

What?

Although
it would be pretty cool.

It would be very cool, man.

Come on,
me and you working together.

What the fuck? Let's do it!

You know, I--
So, let's face it.

Yes, and I saw a dixie too.

- Great picture, huh?
-

- My colleague.
- My comrade.

- My cohort.
- My friend.

- Companion.
- Confederate.

- Chums to the end.
- Like meat and potatoes.

Or salt and tomatoes.

Well, boys, I still don't see

why the American Beef Board

would want
to advertise in your magazine.

Well, Mr. Hermann, now,
speaking as a big beef eater

and Eddie here
is a big beef guy--

Stakes. Every day.

We feel that our unique mix
of cutting-edge fiction

and hard-hitting journalism

and really
in-depth celebrity profiles

will appeal
to just about everybody.

Well, that's all well and good.
But what's beef about it?

Well, for example,
we've already booked

an interview
with Sigourney Weaver.

Who we all know is very big

in the beef-eating community.

And we'll also be going
after a very beefy story

by Pulitzer Prize winning
author John Updike.

Is the story about beef?

Well, uh--

When you get right down to it,
isn't everything?

The human meatball.

Boys.

I like it.

Ready to kick some ass?

Oh, yeah.

Shit.

I left the proposals
at the office, God damn it.

Martin Tupper's office.

Hi Toby, it's me,
look, on my desk--

Where the hell are you?

Vernon's book was supposed
to go to typesetting yesterday.

Fine, fine,
send it down for him, will ya?

Look, I need the proposals,
it's the stack next to the stack

with the paper weight on it,
send it over to Suzanne

at Time 1 on a super rush.

Morning, Toby.

- Mr. Fiske.
- Where the hell is Marty?

Shit, oh, just--
Tell him I'm sick.

- He's sick.
- Again?

Well, make something up.

He was tying his shoe,
and he fell out the window.

Toby, I'd be dead.

But then fortunately,
he landed on a cart of tomatoes,

which cushioned the blow.

But then he started to roll
toward a busy intersection.

Will you stop?

But then he stopped.

So he'll be here tomorrow.

Very well.

We're all set.

- Like meat and potatoes.
- Or salt and tomatoes.

Uh-huh, well, all right.

Yeah, uh, thank you.

- You ready for this?
- Hmm.

That was Suzanne at Time Warner.

They're very interested.

Oh, my God.

This thing's
actually going to happen.

Yahoo!

Yeah!

Sorry to interrupt
the festivities,

but Gibby called 10 minutes ago.

Yeah, well, what did he say?

He said he'll be
in your office in 10 minutes.

And you're just telling me now?

Well, if I told you after
he got here, it'd be too late.

I'm late.

Go, go, go, go.

I'll call you later,
all right? Go!

A-one, a-two, a-three, a-four.

Good night, Toby,
my little pomme de terre.

- Marty.
- Hello, Gibby.

Just skimming
through your space book here.

- And?
- Made the little hairs
on my pouch stand on end.

Oh, well, then,
I've done my job.

Yes, I must say that you
lost me for a sketch here.

During the fuck scene
in chapter seven

when the princess
interrupts her moaning

to launch
into a lengthy proposal

for some bold
new magazine for the '90s.

Seems a bit anticlimactic,
wouldn't you say?

Well, I, uh--

Never figured I'd get caught.

I think we can just
cut that part out,

if you don't like it,
in fact, I agree.

I-- I think
it reads much better.

Hey,
quit pulling my pony, Marty.

I think
I'm some sort of a fuckwit.

I'm not sure what you mean.

Oh, I'll paint you
a little picture then.

The minute you stepped foot
into this office,

you become my property.

I own you,
much as I own this desk

or, uh, all these
black binder things.

Now, if one of these
black binder things

decide to work on a magazine

rather than
holding papers together
like it's supposed to,

well, I would just
throw it in the garbage like so.

You follow me, Marty?

All right, all right.

I admit I've been a little
distracted lately, but--

But nothing.

Now, here's your choice.

My books

or, uh, your little rag sheet.

But not both.

Now, as my dear
old mom used to say,

you can't suck your thumb
and your dick at the same time.

Well, it isn't easy,
but it's a beautiful idea.

How about this, Gibby?

We could work out
some kind of a part-time thing.

Yeah, this would make
a fine executive lavatory.

Okay, okay, forget part-time,

and I'll, uh--
I'll just come in early

four days a week,
and take Fridays off.

I think I'll put
the toilet right here.

Oh, yeah,
yeah, I like this very much.

Okay. Fine.

That's the way you want it.

If you want me to choose
between working in this toilet

and something of some value,

something
that I actually care about,

then fine, I'm going
with the magazine, Gibby.

Oh, Marty.

How would you feel about, uh,
having a Peruvian fellow

over in the corner there
with hot towels

and those little sprays?

Shove it up your ass, Gibby.

Hey, bud. Open up.

- Hey, partner. Hello.
- Hey. Hey.

Whoa! What's this?

I just wanted to thank you
for getting me through

the past
couple of weeks, you know.

Hurry, boys.
I may have to pose for a statue.

Hey, hey, what a sport.

- Two quarts of beer.
- It's the only thing
they had cold at the store.

Come on, man.
I want to make a toast.

To, uh, 31 years of friendship.

You know, for a while there,
I thought I lost everything,

but you made me realize
what's really important.

Women will come and go,
jobs will come and go,

but you and me, man,
that's forever.

And to our magazine,

which is going to
change our lives forever.

Well, actually,
man, I don't think
I'll be doing the magazine.

What do you mean?

Well, you're looking
at the new host

of the Home Sweet Home Show.

I don't give a shit
who I'm looking at.

I just quit my job today.

Why'd you do that?

Because I thought
I could count on you.

Because of 31 years
of friendship, you douchebag.

How-- how could you
do this to me?

Martin, it's a network show.

Two hours a day.

Man, you would
have done the same thing.

Perhaps
you're not hearing me correctly.

I just quit my fucking job!

Well, you can
still do the magazine.

No, I can't, without you,
there is no magazine.

Who's going to read
Martin Tupper's Pizzazz?

Certainly not me.

Look, man, I-- I'm sorry.

You know, if there's
anything I can do for you,
just say the word.

Get out of here
before I fucking strangle you.

Oh, come on, man.
Friends don't do that shit.

Hey! Hey! Hey!

Dude, you're overreacting.

Hey!

I'm sensing
a little hostility here.

Get out of here.

I'll kill you,
I'll kill you, I'll kill you.

I get out of here, come on, man.

You know, I thought
you'd be happy for me.

Jesus.

It'll be
your little cubbyhole here.

Marty, my, my.

What the bloody stump
are you doing here?

What do you mean?

You quit on Friday.
Or have you forgotten?

Friday? Friday.

Friday.

Don't you remember
our little chat?

You quit to work on a magazine
with that Black friend of yours.

Quit? Gibby.

I certainly would have
remembered if I'd quit.

I-- I think Carter mentioned
something about quitting.

Ah, now, come on, Marty.
You're whittling my twig, right?

Gibby, would I be stupid enough
to give up a job like this

to work on some magazine?

Nah. Nah.
I don't suppose you would.

Huh, well, hey, my mistake.

Back to the mail room for you.

- Hard luck, lad.
- Aw.

And Marty,
the next time you tell me

to shove it up my ass,

I'm gonna send you
up there to get it.

Well, that's it for today.

- We've had a terrific show.
- Oh, yeah.

Special thanks to our guests,
General William Westmoreland,

for his delicious
boysenberry cupcake recipe.

- Yum, yum.
- Yum, yum is right.
They're really delicious.

And to Steven Seagal

for his fascinating
collection of toys

that you too can make at home.

- I'm Eddie Charles.
- And I'm Kristy Springer.

Reminding you--

You're always
welcome at Home Sweet Home.

Get over there.
I'm gonna throw up.

Clear.

No! No!
I told you before, Kevin.

I don't care what disease
this fucking kid has.

I don't do autographs!

Hey, bud.
I didn't think you were coming.

So, uh,
what'd you think of the show?

The only reason I'm here
is because you owe me money.

MCI Federal Express.

What? You're still mad at me?

The total is $308.61.
Now write me a check.

Look, man, I'm sorry.
I have no excuse.

I let you down.

Well, at least
it was for a good reason.

Those are some
of the most in-depth,

hard-hitting household hints
I've ever heard.

You really think so?

All right, all right.
I'm shallow, I admit it, okay?

You're deep,
and I'm shallow, but--

but aren't those just
different ends of the same pool?

What pool? What is that?
That means nothing.

Coming through.

Look, man,
I don't know why I did it.

Maybe it was a sack of money
they threw at me.

Or, you know,
I was afraid to fail.

I don't know.
Maybe I'm just an asshole.

- No hard feelings?
- No hard feelings.

- No, no, you know what?
- I'm the asshole.

Because
I'm going to forgive you, again.

I don't know why.

Why do I always do this?

Because I'm your best friend?

No, no,
because I'm too lazy to go out,
and get a better best friend,

you know, I've been meaning
to do it for the last 31 years.

Just never gotten around to it.

Oh, very nice,
you know, if I had any feelings,

that would really hurt.

Since you have no feelings,
I think your show is lousy.

And that hat makes you look
like a Pillsbury Doughboy.

- Oh, now that hurts.
- And at the prom,

when you asked me how you looked
in your powder blue tux,
you remember that?

- Yeah.
- I lied.