Original subtitles

And he stated again this afternoon that he fully

intends to run for reelection.

That wraps up the national news.

I'm Jim Walters.

KLITT's Gordon Gordon went to the movies last night,

and here he is to tell you all about it.

Gordon?

Thank you, Jim.

I'm a movie critic.

I get paid to go to the movies.

People envy me.

They think my job is some sort of a picnic.

Well, it's not a picnic, not one bit.

Last night I more than earned every bit of the money

that KLITT pays me.

I was witness to a movie so lewd, so filthy,

noxious, and obscene that--

Yeah?

Tell him to go screw it.

Tell him I said so.

GORDON : To performs ordid, sexual acts

with people, and it's just a downright abomination

and a crime against nature.

None of you will have to see that sick, sordid--

Memo.

To chairman of the board regarding Saturday night

ratings 8:00 to 10:00 PM last.

I am proceeding to drop programs as previously discussed.

GORDON: Smut, smut, smut.

We'll phase out shows in four weeks and buying

films for prime time viewing.

Films so depraved, so degrading,

so vile and perverted--

Have additional and regular sponsors now willing to make.

GORDON : But they're not only nonsensitive,

but indicative of a social malaise

of frightening proportion.

Yeah.

That's correct.

GORDON : I call upon the district attorney

to enforce the obscenity laws that are--

Look.

I mean to set the record straight.

Your contract's not being renewed.

Your show's a loser.

It stinks.

You haven't turned in a decent production over four years.

We both know that.

Yeah.

Well, just keep me informed as to your procedures

in phasing out.

Just do it in style.

Right.

Have additional and regular sponsors now willing

to make swing over to feature films that I personally select.

Very truly yours, Clifford Bradley, president, et cetera.

Angel, get this out right away.

Hey, Caroline.

Get this fire, will you?

Easy on the fever beaver, you toilet pole.

Oh, take it easy, Miss Thing.

Its seen worse days, I'm sure.

Hey, sweetheart.

Will you put a little rouge on her nips

so we can shoot this thing?

What?

It's for you, honey.

Yeah?

Who is it?

Uh, Mr Bradley, Or, like, Cliff?

Give me the phone.

Yeah?

ANGEL: Mr Boorski on 4-2.

Shit.

Yeah.

Yeah, this is Boorski.

Who?

Now, come on.

Speak up, buddy.

I can't hear you.

Go on?

Well, listen.

I'm real glad to hear you like a little nookie

now and then, buddy.

But I don't see what the hell that's got to do with you

tying up my time on the phone.

Now, look.

I'm a busy man, so you just cut out the bullshit

and tell me what you wanna say.

Yeah, that-- that sounds terrific.

Yeah.

It-- hey, will you get that light off her cunt

before it goes up in flames?

Now, listen, shithook, you're interrupting

my train of thought.

Now, I'm a no shit, serious son of a bitch,

and I'm right in the middle of lighting me a--

Do you know who this is you're talking to?

You're who?

You're kidding me.

Shit.

You ain't kidding me.

I mean, you aren't, sir.

Get your fucking knee back up there.

Oh no, sir. No, sir.

I sure didn't mean you.

No.

Yes, sir.

Captain, you got my undivided attention.

What?

Yes, sir.

Yes, sir.

I'll be there.

Oh.Yes, sir.

Yes, sir, of course.

We'll both be there.

Fine.

See you tomorrow.

Bye.

Won't that frost your behind.

Well, ladies and gentleman, tonight I

have another sick film to report on,

and I shall not flinch from my duty.

I speak of the film "Two Balls," which opened today at the Pearl

Theater in Hollywood.

I cannot recall one shot of the entire film that

did not contain a male or female genital exposed for all to see.

That miserable, machinating eunuch.

How does a man become like that?

How does a real man with any kind of pride

sell his whole country down the river like that?

The whole US of A is losing its--

if you'll pardon the expression, my dear-- balls.

And this little half man rotter, this traitorous, disease

spreading, cold ass cancer.

He's part of it, the conspiracy, of course.

They think they're being pretty smart having one of their boys

working on my station.

They're out to get me.

I know they're out to get me.

And they know that I know they're out to get me.

They think I'm keeping him on so as not to let on that I know

anything about the conspiracy.

I mean, they think that they know that's why

I'm keeping him on salary.

Gee, politics sure makes strange bed partners.

Of course you're right, Inga.

I don't mind your assistant's comments, Boorski.

It's refreshing to find a young girl so

free of the taint ofa sexuality that's assaulting

our country on all fronts.

You see, she is a girl, Boorski.

We don't have to wonder what sex she belongs to.

She's a fine, sexy, All-American girl.

And it's really nice to have her here.

Right you are, Captain.

I have a plan, the ultimate plan to save the nation,

the game plan to put the polish back in the family jewels.

You're gonna be a hero, a national hero.

And you're gonna be the first lady.

You, Rex Boorski, king of the stags, prince of porn.

Give credit where it's due, I always say.

The genius of the genre.

Think on it, man.

Live, Saturday night, prime time--

we'll give 'em stag films!

Do you know how high the ratings go when

the Academy Awards are on TV?

Astronomically high!

And it's nothing but a bunch of crap consisting

of 90 minutes of boredom of thankless idiots

thanking each other.

We'll give 'em an award show that'll stagger the nation.

Wake up, America.

Here we come.

We'll show 'em scenes from the films.

This show's gotta have class.

I need someone to MC the show, someone to give

it credibility, respectability.

And I'll need special sponsors.

Let's see.

Who am I gonna get?

Hey, Dad.

I forgot to tell you the troop is putting that new librarian

on the smut list.

You mean the college girl?

The one with the--

She's got a fat chest.

You know, she wears really short skirts?

Wiggles a lot.

Gordon Junior!

Sorry, Dad.

Sorry if I offended you, Mom.

It's all, Gordon Junior.

What's the troop going to do with the new librarian

now that's she's on your smut list and everything?

Well, it's real simple.

The troops comes down to the library, about 450 of us,

and we run her out of town on her fat, wiggly ass!

Good gracious.

It's almost 9:30.

Who could be coming at this hour?

--Well, hello, sonny.

We're here to see your daddy.

It's all right, Mrs G. Mr Clifford Bradley, he sent us.

Mr Bradley sent you?

That's what I said, Mr Gordon.

Name's Boorski, Rex Boorski.

This here little bombshell, this here's Inga.

We're both of us connected with Stag Film Quarterly Review.

That's a kind of periodical that's devoted to the new ideas

and concepts within the artistic trends relevant in stag

movie tradition.

Stag movies?

How dare you mention such a thing in my house in front

of my wife and my young child.

Artistic trends?

Artistic trends my eye!

You name me one thing you consider an artistic trend

and I'll buy you a stovepipe.

He means the magazine?

Artistic trends?

Lots of fuck position and things like that with pictures.

We do a lot of that trend.

That's smut.

You're smutty.

You're going on the list!

What's with him?

I dunno, honey.

Hey, maybe he wants you to show him some of your positions.

Oh, would you like to see me strike a pose, sonny?

No, absolutely not.

Now, this has gone quite far enough.

Will you get him out of here?

Now, I wanna know what you're doing here,

what do you want me for, and what all

this has to do with Mr Bradley.

Well, now, it's really simple, Mr Gordon.

Mr Bradley, he's the president of KLIT TV, right?

Well, now, you're an employee of KLIT TV,

and Mr Bradley's just got a job he wants you to do for him.

That's all.

You're gonna be working real closely with myself and Inga

here, who incidentally is just one hell of a wild ass fuck.

Oh Rex.

Oh shit.

Well, anyway, it's all explained in this here

letter that Mr Bradley asked me to give to you.

You see, we're going to take TV land by surprise.

We're gonna put on the first annual Academy Awards stag film

nice.

You're gonna be the master of ceremonies.

You know, you'll read off the awards

and introduce a few film clips of the winning films

and shit like that?

We all thought you'd be just right for the job,

give it a little respectability and a little class.

You know what I mean?

Anyway, Mr Bradley'd like to have you in his office

about 9:30 tomorrow morning.

Hey, honey, you got anything to eat?

Remember how happy we all used to be?

I mean, girls were girls, and men were men.

Sex was in the air, in the air, I tell you.

You could suck in the aroma of excited love in every corner.

Now we have pollution-- pollution and faggots.

Terrific, huh?

Well, it's no accident that the people of our country

don't have sex on their mind anymore.

Their minds have been dulled by the blunt edge

of the conspiracy.

The people of our country fall sleep in front of their TV

sets, washing their hands with hexachlorophene

and sucking in the polluted night air

without a single thought of erotic bliss

entering their heads.

This is no accident.

You, of course, all know this.

Your product lacked the exposure that might grant them a greater

chance to successfully compete on the open market

with such things as stomach remedies and enzyme detergents.

Your products are banned from the advance air,

banned from the dull minds of the victimized

audiences of our day.

This is no accident.

The government wants it that way.

They want us to be dull, and tired, and unexcited, and soft.

They're killing sex, and they're killing your products.

What's the pitch, bud?

I wanna sell your products on prime time.

Why you wanna sell our products?

Nobody else here will.

I like what you sell, and I need the money.

All right.

Now wait a minute.

What I want to know is who we got running the show.

Give me some big name, movie stars-- somebody like that.

I got anything to do with television,

I wanna know all the ratings.

All that stuff.

We get some girl, maybe some broad to take

care of the show instead of a guy.

A lot of people like to watch broads like that.

Get a whole room full of broads-- big, fat,

firm tits-- ripe.

You know, I used to be able-- I used

to be able to remember the names of all different kinds

of nipples there are.

We'll have the highest ratings.

It's no lie.

We're running a very show, and it's gonna cost you plenty.

Gordon Gordon, the movie critic, is gonna

be our master of ceremonies.

That fruit?

No, Mr Bradley, I can't reconsider.

I mean, what you're offering, any suggestion of my hosting

a show designed to specifically flout governmental regulations,

particularly by letting somewhat prurient interest gain

dominance on a prime time slot, would,

after all is said and done, be disastrous

to my-- my reputation.

All right, Gordon.

Cut the crap.

I'm gonna speak plainly.

I know who you are, and I know who you're working for.

Who I'm working for, sir?

I said cut the crap.

Can the act.

Get it?

You ever hear of any conspiracy against your own country?

A conspiracy, sir?

Don't play dumb with me.

But, sir--

You want me to tell you what those friends of yours

in Washington are trying to pull on our poor, defenseless

people?

There's a conspiracy afoot in this country, a conspiracy

to uproot our balls, to tear the edge off erotic Americana,

to reduce us all to unisexed hippies,

and faceless faggots, and fruitcakes.

They don't want us to yin for no broads there, boy.

They're making lesbies out of our women folk

and queers out of our men.

They're making us dull, boy.

You get me?

You get me, right?

You know what I mean?

I mean, you're working for them.

But Christ, you look like an American.

Why can't you see right and get your nose in line?

It's not too late to be a patriot.

It's never too late.

I know they're gonna get me.

I get this show on the air and pow!

I get hung.

But that's all right with me.

That's just fine.

Fine.

I'm perfectly willing to get hung-- perfectly willing.

Perfectly.

Am I getting through to you, you bastard?

You work for me, right?

I want you to run the Stag Films Academy Awards night.

You're a big name, and the audience

is going to stay with you when we

announce the preempting, right?

I want someone big, and you're it.

I don't know what the hell you're talking about.

You bastard.

But what conspiracy?

What are you talking about?

Who's doing what and how is it all being done?

I don't know what you mean.

Hexachlorophene.

Ahah!

Your face tells all.

They didn't know I was on to it, did they?

Well, I've got my sources of information

the same as anyone else.

Only mine are better paid, and they've

always got some information to throw my way.

Hexachlorophene?

In the soap, you bastard.

You wash your hands three times and forget about your hard on.

Oh, they've been sneaking it up on us for years.

The whole damn country's just about lost

its capacity to get some ass.

Hexachlorophene is in our guts.

It's in our guts, boy!

In our guts?

Well, that-- that's not very good then.

Don't start jerking me off again, you little asswipe.

I can't stand your playing cute with me.

I dunno what you're trying to do, but it ain't gonna work.

So you may as well quit before you get started.

What about the sponsors?

And the regulations?

The commissioner and the chairman of the board?

I'm completely prepared to lay down my life and my fortune

for the consequences of this night.

What can showing stag film clips possibly do to make

all that trouble worth while?

I'm gonna give the men of America something

to think about besides hexochlorophene.

I'm gonna give our women hot pants.

I mean, boy, to give a little stroll down memory lane

to the poor creatures of our country

who have forgotten the pleasures of God's greatest gift.

I'm gonna turn on the whole damned audience.

Don't you get it, boy?

We're gonna make the statement of the age.

We're gonna lay it on the line.

America's gonna take a long, hard look at itself

and then hop right in the bed with the memories

of sexual ecstasy that their government is

trying to suppress for their own perverse reasons.

I just-- I just can't do it.

I can't do it.

I'll be frank with you, Gordon.

You piss me off.

ANNOUNCER: Our regularly scheduled programs will not

be shown tonight so that we may bring

you the following special.

Ladies and gentlemen, tonight from holiday,

KLITT presents the first annual Stag Film Academy Awards

night with special guest star, that king of porno,

Rex Boorski.

And our host for tonight, that famous film critic,

that man of style, Mr taste in culture

himself-- Gordon Gordon.

The world as we know it is going through a vast change

of sensibilities.

In an era faced with the bitter aftertaste of marauding

technocrats pummeling our tender psyches, many of us

have lost the capacity to feel.

Movies have mirrored this change.

They have become sterile, lifeless.

They don't turn us on.

How many of us can honestly say that we came back

from watching "The Godfather" and felt like-- felt

like getting fucked?

Tonight-- tonight, the KLITT viewing audience

will for the first time be able to see clips

from a new wave of underground films

that hope to reverse this alarming sterile trend

in our artistic environment.

Tonight, you will be able to see the wild, unfulfilled dreams

of America pour out before your very eyes.

You will see, and hear, and join with me

in applauding the best of the award

winning stag films of our time.

But a word of warning for those out-- for those of you

out there in the video land, you wild ones, you who

are used to seeing the old eight millimeter stag films,

be prepared.

Now you will see them ball in 16 millimeter.

I'm Gordon Gordon.

I'll be right back after this short announcement.

Look, just between us girls, we've got

a problem sometimes with odor.

And not just any odor, big deal crotch odor.

Let's be serious, right?

It can get pretty fucking disgusting down there.

If it's going to be a hot day and I've got some action

planned, I don't mess around.

I just give myself a quick spritz right

up my favorite spot and yours.

Twinkle Twat-- great stuff.

Isn't it worth it for the extra penny?

Twinkle Twat-- try it.

You'll like it.

I like it.

SONG: In its tender fold and wrinkle,

make it sparkle where you tinkle.

Love it. Twinkle Twat.

I love it.

Twinkle Twat.

Every glistening crack and crinkle

will be cherry blossom pink.

I love you, Twinkle Twat.

The award for the best sound effects goes to the film cited

for its daring innovations in the sensitive pick up

of the very quiet sound of the human heart,

for its delicate integration of vital noise, racket--

Gordon Junior, get to bed.

But that's Dad.

That's smut!

Turn that thing off and get to bed.

Mother, I hate to say this, but Dad is going on the list.

And so to announce the nominees is none other than the queen

of stag films-- Inga.

The nominees are "The Stroker," "The Lustful

Lover," and "Wailing Whiplash."

May I have the envelope, please?

And the winner is "Wailing Whiplash: A Saga of Milk."

All the recipients of the awards tonight

will receive a statue of a human foot encased in a black anklet

sock in recognition for the contributions

to the advancement of the stag film genre.

Here's a clip from the film.

How many bottles?

Two.

That's not good enough!

You're hurting me.

You alone in the house?

Why are you doing this to me?

Please stop.

Please stop.

I can't fight you.

Please stop.

You're hurting me so.

What do you want from me?

What do you want?

I'll give you anything you want?

This is what I want.

This is what I want!

Oh no.

Don't beat me with that.

Please, not with that.

Not the strap.

Whore.

It's Melvin, my husband.

What's for lunch, baby?

Tuna salad, darling.

That's not good enough!

I'm sorry, darling, butt una salad is all we have.

I hope you won't be mad at me.

I hope you won't be angry.

Shut up, baby.

You have just seen a clip from "Wailing

Whiplash: a Saga of Milk."

I don't suppose I have to urge any of you

horny fuckheads out there to hang on

till after this brief announcement.

ANNOUNCER: Irving Hamstrung is a sewer worker from Elmhurst.

Queens.

He has rough hands from pulling up manhole covers

and sifting through all sorts of shit all day long.

Isn't that right, Irving?

This is Milton Schwartz of Coney Island.

He's the chief maintenance engineer

in the saliva and cigar butt division of the New York City

subway cleanup control unit.

His hands are wet, and rough, and clammy.

And they smell bad too.

Isn't that right, Milton?

This is Salvatore Russo of flushing.

He's an undercover agent for the New York Police Department.

He spends his day dressed as a derelict in different men's

rooms in Grand Central Station.

His hands are rough and calloused from standing

on his hands on top of toilet bowls for hours at a time.

The other derelicts trust him because this

proves him to be a regular guy.

Your hands must be pretty icky, right, Salvatore?

This is Sancho Wienerhauser.

He's an independent frankfurter salesman.

He handles his wares all day under an umbrella

in Times Square.

His hands are god awful.

Isn't that right, Sancho?

Sancho?

We have asked these men here today for a special reason.

As you've seen, they are professionals

with hard, unpleasant hands.

OK, men.

Go ahead.

OK, men.

You can take off the blindfolds.

Well, professionals, which did you find softer?

The diaper or the girl?

The girl.

The girl.

The girl.

The girl.

ANNOUNCER: Thank you, men.

Well, you've just seen for men with hard, tough, stinking

hands prefer blindfolded the soft skin of a girl

to the softness of diapers.

Wouldn't you rather have a real girl than a diaper?

Don't be a little jerkoff in diapers.

Call Dial-A-Snatch.

SONG: Dial-A-Snatch-- you won't be lonely

if you'll only dial a snatch!

Softer than diapers, whores on television.

I'm losing my mind.

I must be losing my mind.

Our next award will be given in the category

of best documentary.

May I have the envelope, please?

Although the film we have chosen to honor this year

does not fit into any ordinary conception

of the documentary art form, we feel

that its usage of real people in a real life situation

justifies our granting of the award.

I take great pleasure in awarding

this year's prize for the best documentary

to "The Shrink Who Loved Me."

MAN: Your hand, what are you doing with your hand?

Nothing.

I mean, nothing.

Just looking at my watch.

Look at the watch.

Yes.

Now, you say looking at your watch,

but in reality, which after all is my stock and trade,

in reality you were tugging and pulling

at your portable timepiece.

But, Doctor, I don't--

Now, please, don't interrupt.

I'll lose my train of thought.

I-- I-- I always lose my train of thought,

and it's a terrific strain.

I mean, it's at errific strain dealing

with lunatics all the time.

I mean, present company excepted, of course.

Of course.

But Doctor, I cannot even sleep.

The pain is so unbearable for me at night.

We can deal with all this.

It's very common.

You have all the ordinary symptoms.

But that has nothing to do with what's wrong with me.

Now, now, now, now, now, now, now, now.

How can you expect me to help you at all if you start

contradicting me and taking away the trust

that you must have in me?

You know the doctor patient relationship

must remain strong and intact.

You see, clocks have been assigned

a very definite function in psychoanalytic diagnosis.

Clocks?

Yes, clocks.

Clocks are a symbol of female genitalia.

Now, your tugging and pulling at the symbol of your,

shall we say, femininity is symptomatic

of several proclivitie son your part

which you are trying desperately,

I might add, to suppress.

Well, what have I got?

Well, that depends.

Are you a virgin?

Oh, Doctor, don't be silly.

Yes, now, do you have clocks in your bedroom?

Yes, doctor, I'm afraid I do.

Windup or electric?

Windup with an alarm pullout.

Windup, pullout.

Your-- your port abletimepiece, your wrist

watch, that has no pullout.

So you must tug on it instead.

My dear, I'm afraid you're a nymphomaniac.

A what?

Now, that's just the kind of crap I'd

expect to hear from my mother.

I mean, one time, just one time with Johnny

and immediately I'm a whore, a two bit, cheap, little whore.

No, no, no, no, no.

Quite the contrary.

You see, nothing could be further from the truth.

You see, you have been brought up

to believe that sexual intercourse

is a cardinal sin, right?

And that whatever the consequences,

you must always repress your sexual desire.

My use of the term nymphomaniac is--

was really to elicit are action of guilt and shame.

Oh.

Clever. -Well, thank you.

Now, that reaction was symptomatic of an unhealthy,

unnatural repression.

Move over.

Move over?

Hey, what is this?

Goddamn it, young lady.

That-- you mustn't let your silly little repressions

get in the way of your therapy.

I mean, I'm explaining to you that your--

your-- your neurotic fits are merely symptoms an underlying

repression of sexual desire that has been unhealthily drummed

into you ever since your birth.

And the only way to get around this

is to-- to-- crush it, to-- to-- to tear it up from its roots.

And that's a fact that must be dealt with at once.

Doctor, what do you want me to do?

Oh, just draw back those repressions.

You desire me.

You desire me.

You desire me.

Oh, Miss Alice.

SONG: If you're running 'round in circles

like ze hands of a clock, always looking at your watch,

und hearing tick-tock.

Ja, ja.

Und the tick to you means prick und the tock to you means cock.

And every little tick-tock is prick-cock.

Ja, ja.

Then tick-tock, tick-tock is prick-cock, prick-cock.

Und tock-tick is cock-prick.

So psychologically you're sick.

Ticky-ticky, tock-tock, ticky ticky tock,

pricky-pricky, cock-cock, pricky pricky cock.

Tocka tocka tick-tick, Cocka cocka prick.

Cocka cocka, pricka pricka, cocka cocka prick!

Rightly speaking, here's my diagonosis.

You've got a genuine 17 jewel neurosis.

You're full of Bolivar psychosis.

So use this therapy in very large doses.

Go out with men, Liebchen.

For you're no cuckoo clock in your mind.

Grab a big man, Liebchen.

Pop your little spring und unwind.

When you think you're fully dressed,

but you're mitout a stitch, then you feel you got a scratch

but cannot find the itch.

You've got but can't remember which,

go out with men, Liebchen.

If you have to blow your nose, but your nostrils are in shock

'cause your sinuses are stuff edup with a mental block-- ja,

ja-- und mama to you means pop, und papa to you means cock,

und put them all together, you've got poppycock.

Ja, ja.

Then tick-tock, tick-tock.

If mommy pop is poppycock, hocky puck,

hockey sock is hockey stick a cocky prick?

Ticky-ticky tock-tock, ticky-ticky tock,

hockey pockey, hockey sockey, pockey hockey stick,

pocka-pocka tick-tick, pocka-pocka tick,

hockey sticky, cocka dicky, suck a hockey prick.

Mein Liebchen.

Dippy doo in your thing.

They'll cure what ails, Liebchen.

Don't drive your little pussy insane.

If you think you're eating caviar,

but all it is is cheese, if you're sadomasochistic

but relaxed while ill at ease, if you're dancing the Flamenco

while you're playing on your knees,

go out with men, Liebchen!

For those of you who just tuned in,

you were just seeing a clip from the award winning stag film

"The Shrink Who Loved Me."

And now a message that I'm sure will be of interest

to all our female viewers.

MOTHER: Something wrong?

Oh, Mother, football season's over, and so is training.

Killer wants me to go out with him tonight,

but what's he gonna do when he finds

out that I'm not a true blonde?

Stop feeling sorry for yourself and get smart.

Whenever I got asked out on a moment's notice,

I used Minute Merkin.

Yes, Minute Merkin, a pelvic wig.

It's not just any rug made out of synthetics or horse hair.

Minute Merkin is hand woven from genuine human pubic hairs.

I have the rainbow assortment.

You try the Swedish blonde.

But he'll be here in 10 minutes.

Relax.

It only takes a minute.

Do you think it'll fool Killer?

It certainly fooled your father.

SONG: If you're a gal who's on the go and a gal who's

in the know, well, nothing would be finer than a wig

for your vagina.

Your friends may think you're very weird that you

wear a pelvic beard.

But men will pay a price to lay a gal with such a nice toupee.

Minute Merkin!

ANNOUNCER: Later that evening.

I'm sorry, Anita.

I guess I got kind of carried away, but it was beautiful.

-Did he find out? -No.

-What happened? -He loved it.

Really?

The whole thing.

ANNOUNCER: Minute Merkin-- for the gal on the go.

He'll never know the difference.

SONG: Minute Merkin.

Minute Merkin!

Our next award will be given in the category of best director.

As many of you have already been able to guess,

the award this year goes to that venerable stalwart of the stag

reels for his latest film "Stag Film

Director: the Great Deceiver."

Mr Boorski not only directed this award winner

but also wrote the screenplay and starred in the production.

Rex Boorski, creative artist, man

of many professional guises, feels very

strongly about his latest film.

And we get at KLITT asked him if he would himself introduce

a clip from this film.

Well, ladies and gentlemen, I take great pleasure

in presenting you with Rex Boorski.

I'll bet your fans are getting a real rise out

of tonight's show.

Ain't he doing a good job, folks?

My name's Rex Boorski.

I'm a creator.

You-- you see what I do is I make things come

to last, things like situations, and characters,

and dead marriages, and for that matter, dead dames.

Now, you see the point is that life is art and all that shit?

Now, that ain't not crap.

I mean, it's kind of like-- you know when-- well, when you're

gonna go take off your clothes when you're in a film,

I mean, what's all the fuss about?

I mean, life is beautiful.

Flesh is beautiful.

Well, why don't we do these films

without showing a lot of flesh?

Well, I'll tell you why.

I'll tell you why, baby.

It's because you don't fuck when you got your drawers on.

That's why.

I do wanna thank you.

Thank you, Mr Boorski, but I'm afraid that's all the time

we can let you have.

And now, ladies and gentlemen, we all take great pleasure

in presenting you with a clip from the latest Rex Boorski,

"Stag Film Director."

Now look, Virginia, the point is that I'm an artist,

and I'm interested in just primarily one thing.

Yes, Mr Boorski, and I appreciate that.

Now, honey, I don't think you'd have a lot of respect for me

if I was to go and compromise my artistic vision.

Now, you see, hun, I'm a director.

And a director's got to feel the way each one of these scenes

are put together.

You dig that?

Well now, honey, I'm a guy that feels awful deeply.

Well now, if I was to make compromises

or concessions with my feelings, now, I'd be lying to myself.

I don't think I could live with myself if I did that, Virginia.

Well, that's very true, Mr Boorski, but--

Now, you just call me Rex, honey.

We're very informal around here.

Well, all right, Rex.

The thing is, Rex, I really appreciate you being very

true to yourself and all that.

But the fact is that I don't really

see why you being true to yourself

has got to have me, well, completely naked and simulating

a disgusting, love making scene.

Well, honey, for one thing, I's director of this film.

Now, I gotta have a firm concept of how the characters

is supposed to be portrayed.

Now, I happen to see your character portrayed as naked,

you know, and making love.

Well, honey, it's gonna be simulated love.

We ain't really gonna-- how am I gonna put this--

fuck right here on the set.

'Course it's gonna look like that a lot on the screen.

But I don't see what that's got to do with art.

Well now, I suppose that's 'cause you've

never been fucked by an artist.

Now look, Virginia, you want a part in the movie, don't you?

Now, you're a great looking girl.

You got nothing to be ashamed about if'n you

take off your clothes.

I mean, I don't understand how come you don't know all

these things if you were drawn into our profession

in the first place.

I mean, we deal in truth, honey, the honest to God,

grassroots, naked truth!

Look, Mr Boorski, I've had acting experience before,

things that had real life and truth in it.

And well, I didn't have to take off my clothes

for that kind of thing.

You were doing a goddamn refrigerator commercial.

That's your real life true experience.

So, honey, you don't bullshit me about life and art, OK?

'Cause I'll tell you something.

I'm an artist too, and we happen to be talking about a movie

that I wrote, and I'm gonna direct,

and I happen to think is pretty goddamn good.

And it deals about some of the functions of life.

And one of them functions, in case you hadn't noticed,

is getting laid.

Now, Virginia, I ain't gonna mince no more words with you.

I really did.

I wanted you to be in my movie.

I-- I thought you'd put your whole heart, your whole soul

into it, but if you're gonna have a spiritual conflict

with your director before we even start shooting,

you just forget the whole goddamn thing.

Oh no.

No, Mr Boorski-- Mr Rex-- uh, Rex.

I'm just a little confused.

Oh no.

I don't want you to think that I've got any kind

of spiritual contact with you.

Oh no.

Not that.

In fact, I'm beginning to think that you're

right-- right completely!

I mean, I never could understand how

somebody could feel so strongly about what somebody else--

I mean, like my mother for example.

I mean, she would just about go bananas

if she knew that I was getting my tits sucked

on top of my clothing, and plus wearing a bra?

I mean, she would go crazy and think that I was a whore.

But oh you, you've opened up a whole new understanding for me.

Oh, really you have.

And I really want that part.

Oh, I really, really do.

And I really want the chance to be able to work with a-- well,

a first class director.

Oh, I hope you can understand why--

why I've seemed so reluctant.

I mean, in fact, I'm not sure I still understand

this whole simulating thing for one thing,

but for another thing, I hope that the actor you've selected

will be suited for me.

Oh, I didn't mean to offend you.

I'm sure that the actor you've selected

will be artistically suited for me.

It's just that I'm so curious to know because it'll

be such an intimate.

Honey, honey, I know what you're talking about.

I understand.

You wanna know who you're gonna do this love scene with,

this simulated love scene.

Right?-Oh yeah.

Sure.

That's it.

I'm just curious to know what he's like.

He looks an awful lot like me.

Now look, Virginia, it's about time you got it together, baby.

I mean, this ain't not goddamn high school play.

This is big time, honey.

Gonna be a lot of important people seeing you

up there on that silver screen.

You gonna be a goddamn star.

You just do what I tell you and relax, and unwind, and emote.

You know what I mean?

I'll tell you what we gotta do.

See that camera right there?

We gotta make that camera believe that we

just love what we're doing.

And what we're doing is just a little

simple, simulated love making.

Now, fortunately, you're gonna be

in the hands of an actor just real experienced

in the art of making love.

Namely me.

But I don't think I know what we're gonna be doing.

I mean, I really don't think I understand what

Jesus Christ, honey, would you get it together?

Now, goddamn it.

I wrote the goddamn scene.

I'm directing it.

I'm also acting in it.

Now, you read it.

You know what it's all about.

Now, you just relax honey.

Just take it easy.

Well, Jesus Christ.

The last thing we need is this.

We don't need no dogs in the scene.

We're shooting pussy.

That's a joke.

All right.

Now you just take it easy.

Now lean back.

That's right.

Goddamn it.

Let's get rid of these goddamn pillows.

There we go.

Spread that leg over there.

Spread your shoulders.

Get your hair out of the way.

Honey, there ain't nothing to be worried about.

We're just shooting a movie.

You're gonna bet he start.

You ready to go to Hollywood, all them parties, sign all them

autographs, all them debuts?

Here.

Got-- get a good fix on that tit.

There you go.

Make sure we ready the other one.

All righty, honey.

It's OK.

Everything's gonna be all right, huh?

Just relax.

Everything's fine.

All right.

Good.

Yeah, you're doing good.

Pull that fucking camera!

Yeah, that was good.

Well, you just been balled by an artist.

How does it feel?

Well, shit on you!

Now I know why I'm the only one who's gotta simulate.

That was Rex Boorski's "Stag Film Director," a very true

to life performance.

We'll be right back.

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SONG: Don't suffer with pain.

Take the Rhoid Away.

Right away get Rhoid Away!

What you've just seen was a commercial announcement

paid for by advertisers not in any way

connected with this station.

The next award will be given in the category best dialogue.

For its tattles and prattles and chitchat and babbles,

its delicate delicatedis courses, powerhouse powwows,

for its parlays of genius and so subtle confabulations

never ending in muddles, for it stete-a-tete discussions which

hindered eruptions, the nominees are

"Wishbone Wonderlust," "Thanking Thighs," and "Beach Ball."

May I have the envelope, please?

And the winner is "Beach Ball!"

Hello there, you little cocksucker.

If I were you, sir, I'd keep a civil tongue in my head.

My tongue is--

Control room.

Hello.

Who's in charge there?

Oh, hello, Mr Chairman.

Cliff?

Cliffy, is that you?

I tried to reach you at home.

What-- what the hell is going on at our television station

tonight?

Do you have any idea what--

Oh, you're talking about the stag film awards show.

Hell, everything's under control.

It's my baby!

I thought the whole thing up myself.

I got you guys.

I mean, let's face it there, Mr Chairman.

The show is on, and there's not a power on Earth

that's gonna stop it now.

What-- what are you talking about?

Tell me this is all a bad dream.

Tell me, Cliff.

All these years when you were number one in the business

we never had problems.

But what are you talking about?

Do you know what they're doing out there in prime time TV?

Do you know what's going on in this country?

Do you?

Do you?

Look, Mr Chairman, no more games.

We all know that you're part and parcel

of the antisexual conspiracy poisoning

this great country of ours.

Let's lay our cards on the table.

You sexless people on one side, myself and a few other patriots

loyal to the joys and responsibilities

of sexual freedom in America on the other.

Oh my god.

He's gone nuts.

This whole show is a coup for our side.

Of course, I'm prepared to face the consequences.

Fire me.

Why?

Why?

Why did you do it, you crazy, motherfucking son of a bitch?

What did I do to deserve this?

I'm fired, right?

Just say the words, Mr Chairman.

Oh.

Oh, sure, Cliff.

Sure, you're fired.

Oh yes, you're fired.

You're fired.

MAN: You're wicked loose, you horny little mama.

Think I'm gonna give you the fall of your life.

Yes, I am.

GIRL: Yeah, fuck me.

Fuck me.

I wanna drool. I wanna--

Camera two, move in.

Why?

We'll return after a word from our sponsor.

ANNOUNCER: March 15, 1893, on a sudden daring impulse, Pamela

Flanders and Clarissa Richardson let

their fancies take wing and actually gave each other

a little peck on the mouth.

Just then, Mr Richardson, husband to Clarissa,

surprised the pair.

For the crime of kissing her friend,

Mr Richardson sentenced his wife to a week's confinement

in the wine cellar.

Well, you've come a long way, ladies.

SONG: Men, we've come a long, long way.

You are out of style.

Thank you, Kentucky Dildo.

All us women have grown up.

You're still juvenile.

Thank you, Kentucky Dildo.

In sex you gave a bit whether not.

You flew right by our clitoris and left us feeling hot.

Well, you're just a piece of shit to us.

Go piss in a pot.

Thank you, Kentucky Dildo.

Men, who needs you?

We've come a long, long way.

Men are out of style.

Thank you, Kentucky Dildo.

Thank you, Kentucky Dildo.

Thank you, Kentucky Dildo.

ANNOUNCER: Kentucky Dildos-- because you've come a long way.

Our next award will be given in the category of best music.

As all of you stagfilm a ficionados know,

stag film producers use cheap, raunchy library music.

The ears of our judges have been assaulted

daily by the raucous dissonance of score

after score of such music.

However, there was one score that stood a cut above the rest

in originality and execution.

Inga, will you announce the winner, please?

The winner is-- pardon.

The winner is-- the winner is a fellow nominee for this award,

"Gagnon, The Vice Cop."

And now a clip from that film.

MAN : Los Angeles is a city

festering with every known vice and perversion.

There are laws to prevent this.

I enforce 'em.

I'm a cop.

On August 17th, 10:30AM, my partner Bernie

picked up a call.

A girl was raped and assaulted in her apartment.

We're on our way.

I thought he was selling vacuum cleaners.

He told me he had an enormous hose.

So you let him in?

That's right.

What happened?

Well, when I let him in, I asked to see his enormous hose.

Yeah?

Yeah.

Well, that's when he did it.

Did what?

Raped me, of course!

Do you mind covering your tit, ma'am?

Oh, sure.

Joe, it just came in, another rape.

Something about a man having a large hose.

Same person?

I don't see how.

The rape occurred exactly 10:30 AM

in Beverly Hills, the same time this girl was raped.

Let's go, er-- oh shit.

Let's go, Bernie.

Oh, there is one thing him.

Ma'am.

He had a hose this big.

I had the precinct go through the files of known rapists

with long hoses.

They thought I was joking.

Yeah?

So I told 'em.

Told 'em what?

That I don't fuck around.

She was a pretty girl about 20, stacked, friendly.

Wherever the rapist was, he was picking his prey with taste.

We noted it down.

Well?

He told me had a big, long hose.

So naturally I let him in.

Why?

WOMAN: Sure, I let him in.

All of a sudden he opens his coat and flashes me.

Like wow.

He had one hell of a hose, let me tell you.

So he rapes me.

Anything else can tell us about the man besides his long hose?

What else is there?

Joe, I got an APB on the rapist.

Yeah?

They're twins.

Joe, what's an APB?

I don't know.

August 18th, midnight.

We found the turnip twins in one of Los

Angeles sleaziest hotels.

They were twins, identical.

There were unarmed, so to speak.

I dunno, Sergeant.

I sort of thought we can get all the pussy we wanted if we

just synchronized our clocks.

Your what?

Clocks?

Like, who would believe it?

Girls getting simultaneously raped by the biggest cock

in Hollywood?

I thought it up.

Why'd you do it?

I thought it was a good idea at the time.

The girls thought so too.

Are you a loser who can't even make it to first base

with a girl?

Do you lose your confidence every time you get up to bat?

Why strike out?

Use Umpire, the male deodorant.

Use Umpire every morning.

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Umpire, the new male deodorant for foul balls.

Play ball!

Please stay tuned.

We'll return after a word from our sponsor.

Girls, Passion cologne and bath oil

brings out the beast in men.

We're going to spray Claudine with

a provocative and expensive perfume,

while Adriana will use Passion.

We've left convicted rapist Luther Grady alone

in the dungeon with the two girls.

Let's watch what happens.

And there you have it live and unrehearsed.

Another convicted rapist prefers the girl

wearing passion to the more attractive girl

wearing the expensive perfume.

And now back to the live action.

ANNOUNCER: Passion Colon and Bath Oil,

it brings out the beast in men.

I just wanna say that the commercial you have just seen

was out of my control.

I will not stand for this.

I will not stand for this one second longer.

I have my BA in movie criticism.

Yes, sir.

And I will not stand idly by while the men and women

of America get sucked into the foul pestilence

of corruption and decadence.

A travesty, I say at ravesty and an abomination.

You have seen films tonight that were

rooted-- rooted-- in sickness.

I don't care whether or not I lose my job

or whether-- what anyone thinks about me,

but I just have to say what I feel or I'll do something

that I'll be sorry for later.

I don't know what-- who's been taping these commercials,

but whoever-- whoever has been, well, they oughtta be arrested.

They oughtta be put away in dog kennels.

That stupid, traitorous bastard.

I get him to behave for the whole show,

and then he ups and gets me in trouble with the sponsor.

It's such a fine, uncontaminated product.

There's not a bit of hexachlorophene in it.

I'll tell the world.

No hexachlorophene, that it works wonders.

Taxi!

You in a hurry?

Yes, I am.

I'm in a hurry.

Not in that much of a hurry.

Listen.

I know how it goes.

You know, you-- you have a long hard day,

and then you come home to the same old wife each night?

It gets boring.

Let me tell you.

You could use a nice little piece of class ass

if you know what I mean.

You know, I got this-- I got this phone

number of this chick, see?

And she's absolutely dynamite.

Got a 42 inch bust.

Would you believe it?

Hey, and she-- she wears her boots to bed, just like you're

in a goddamn stag film, huh?

Hey, what do you say?

Hey, what is it with you anyway?

Just take me home, filthy degenerate.

Sex, sex-- this is the most disgusting, filthy city

in the world.

Tell me again.

Oh that's gorgeous.

What beautiful goddamn ratings.

This is history.

Yes, John?

Oh, well, thanks a lot.

Yes, it was mostly my idea Although Cliff did

have a little something to do with it.

Oh, he happen to be a fairly hip guy.

Oh, Gordon.

Poor Gordon.

You look terrible.

Just awful.

Poor dear.

I saw the whole thing on television.

Hello.

Yes.

Yes, Mr Chairman.

I can explain everything.

Forge the explanations.

Gordon, there were over 100 million people

watching the awards last night-- half of America.

100 million viewers?

That's right.

You're a hot item.

Me?

Anchorman?

Well, what about my reviews?

Oh, we'll get some candy ass for that spot.

You come in in the morning to sign the contract.

Good night.

Oh, Gordon, congratulations.

Well, thank you Mr Chairman.

I'll-- I'll pop in for lunch.

You, I saw you!

Don't deny it.

You're smutty, smutty, smutty, and you're on the list.

You're a disgrace to our entire family

and-- and our standing in the neighborhood.

This lists you as an admitted member of the smut list.

Sign and I'll be easier on you in the long run.

Get outta here, you little fart.

You're still smutty, smutty, smutty!

Come here.

Great god almighty.

I'm gonna fuck your brains out.

Yeah, he's back, and we can forget about any kind

of action for tonight.

In two seconds, they're gonna be in their room

with the door locked.

What do you think, dummy?

Fucking.

Mr Boorski, Mr Boorski!

How are you?

Mr Boorski?

Good morning, ladies and gentleman.

You know, last night I had a whole shitpot

full of requests to hold a press conference here.

Well, here I am.

You.

The one with the swollen tits sticking out there.

You have violated federal law, state law, city

and local ordinances, and every regulation promulgated

by the Federal Communications Commission

not to mention general principles

of decency and morality.

Have you given any thought at all to the legal consequences

of your actions?

Honey, right now I'm just thinking

about them swollen tits you got sticking out there.

Mr Boorski, in your considered opinion,

how would you evaluate the impact that last night's

special had on America?

Well, what do you think?

They was message films or something?

Say, you ain't one of the mignorant fucking movie critics

that's always trying to look for something that ain't there,

are you?

Now look, buddy, I'll tell you.

All I know is there's a whole shitload of Maytags

out there working overtime to clean the stains off

of last night's sheets.

Mr Boorski!

Mr Boorski!

Mr Boorski, I'd like to address this question to Miss Inga.

Well, you go right ahead, honey.

Miss Inga, I think it would be of enormous interest

to our readers to learn whether you enjoy

a social relationship as well as a business relationship

with Mr Boorski.

Enjoy it?

Of course I enjoy it, silly.

REX BOORSKI: Go ahead, granny.

You just fire away.

Never in my life have I heard of such perverted acts.

You spoke about inspiration at your conference last night,

the special?

Where could you possibly have gotten

the inspiration for such coarse, crude, crass, and above all,

boring movies.

Well, ma'am, I reckon I can field

that question pretty easily.

If I can just figure out how to put it.

Inspiration, you see, is a very delicate and subtile thing.

It comes in a lot of different colors, and sizes, and shapes.

Now, you take you for example.

I'll bet my granddaddy's jock strap

you ain't had no inspiration or no penetration

for that matter in a dog's age.

Mr Boorski, why do you find it so necessary

to use vulgar words when English words would

express your true feelings much clearer?

Well, ma'am, I'll tell you.

I don't swear just to be shitty about it.

It's just that I feel the English language is

such a poor means of communication

we gotta use ever fucking word everybody understands.

Boorski!

Boorski!

You.

In this changing world, do you anticipate the establishment

of gorilla type sex orgies?

Well, I'll tell you, honey, I don't mind fucking a monkey,

but I hate to have someone monkeying with my fucking.

Is it true, Mr Boorski, that your penis has been

insured by Lloyd's of London?

Shit, that's the silliest question I ever heard.

It's apparent to everybody that a brilliant man

masterminded the production and transmission

of last night's awards.

It is now common knowledge that Clifford Bradley is this man.

However, we have been unsuccessful in our attempts

to locate him.

Could you, Mr Boorski, as his close associate

give us a clue as to his whereabouts?

Who will inspire the troops to victory

if I am captured by the enemy?

No one.

No one else.

I and I alone must remain free.

CLIFFORD BRADLEY: We have established

the first beachhead.

We have taken the enemy by surprise.

Retaliatory strikes are imminent,

and their consequences will have grave implications

for all concerned.

I foresee traitor sin the ranks lusting

after the spoils of war.

However, they have been offset by the enlistment

of new patriots.

Soon, our ranks will be overflowing

with Americans prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice.

For me, there is a higher duty than martyrdom.

We have made great strides, but there are still

strategic points to be taken before the final assault is

launched.