Original subtitles

I just broke up with someone.

Paul Simon!

That was two tiny singer-songwriters ago.

Catch up!

- Prince! - Hall & Oates!

Oh. Now, stop. This was a woman.

Don't.

And it was a real partnership.

Lasted longer than any of my marriages combined.

And in its way, it was just like a marriage.

It started with a contract, it ended with a lawsuit,

and we never had sex.

Except once, there really isn't much to do in Pensacola.

It really sucks to break up with me.

No, seriously, my face is on billboards.

You break up with a normal person,

maybe you can't go back to your favorite restaurant.

You break up with me, you can't use the highway.

She was a friend.

We always fought over that word, "friend."

But I dumped her and got a fifth dog.

Still a bitch, but at least this one'll fetch my shoes.

♪ I got frostbitten in the winter ♪

♪ Ice skating on the river ♪

She's not gonna be happy.

♪ With my pretty little black-eyed girl ♪

♪ She'd make your darn toes curl just to see her, yeah ♪

♪ I got a fringe front on my buggy ♪

♪ I got a pretty little...

Betty Botter bought some butter,

but she said the butter's bitter.

Betty Botter bought some butter, but she said

the butter's bitter. Sounds bueno, boys.

Steve Martin is my favorite.

"Excuuuuse me!"

George Carlin, with the seven dirty words? Really funny.

Robin Williams, too. Like the Tasmanian Devil.

Who the hell is this?

No idea.

♪ Living with her funky family ♪

♪ In a derelict old alley ♪

♪ Down by the river...

Put 'em up.

♪ In the moonshine ♪

Fifty bucks she doesn't show.

She doesn't show, fuck it. I'm mentioning Maisel.

So fearless, dude.

♪ Well, she knows how to use me ♪

♪ Pretty little black-eyed Susie...

It's a veritable who's who of people behind the scenes

in the entertainment industry gathering here

to roast one of their own.

♪ Living with her funky family ♪

♪ In a derelict old alley ♪

♪ Down by the river...

Move!

♪ In the moonshine ♪

♪ Well, she sure knows how to use me ♪

♪ Pretty little black-eyed Susie ♪

It's the one shot we came here to get.

Great job, guys.

♪ In a derelict old alley ♪

♪ Down by the river ♪

♪ Where we share a little loving ♪

♪ In the moonshine ♪ ♪

So, we have some unfortunate news, everyone.

Susie has arrived.

- Hello, Susie. - This is fucking dumb.

Good to see you, too.

Now, you all know me and wish you were me.

I'm Stewart Jones,

your unwilling emcee for this evening.

So, when we first approached Susie Myerson about a roast,

she instructed us to position our heads in a place

that seemed ill-advised, claustrophobic,

and biologically impossible.

Try harder. I believe in you.

Then we offered to make it

a testimonial dinner, and she replied,

"No, thanks, those are for old hags with shriveled pussies."

Enjoy the veal.

So, we negotiated with her,

and if you've never done that before,

I highly don't recommend it.

And she agreed to a "Testi-Roastial."

Trips off the tongue, huh?

So, here she is, an hour late

and smelling like Cheech and Chong.

Hell, she's burned more grass than the Santa Ana winds.

If only she'd made as much money for her clients

as she has for Visine and Doritos.

- Her big break came... - Bring me some food.

...when she discovered the comedian

whose name we shall not utter tonight

at the long-defunct Gaslight Café on MacDougal.

I need a plate, guys.

Heavy on the meat, light on the vegetables.

Dinner service is over.

I need a plate. Now.

Who's the asshole who wants dinner after dinner?

Any of you negotiating with Susie

on the other side of a telephone,

or... God forbid... in person,

knows she's one of the consummate dealmakers

in the business.

And most of you know about that day in 1970.

Greatest goddamn day ever.

The day of the legendary triple crown.

Susie had a movie script.

It was controversial and no one in town wanted to touch it.

So, Sol, this film,

it's gonna be shot on locations all over the city...

Manhattan, Queens, Brooklyn.

Friedkin's got a real vision for it.

I hear he's a hothead.

Yeah, well, maybe you need a hothead

for something like The French Connection.

- Tee off, Tommy. - Paul Newman passed.

Steve McQueen passed. James Caan passed.

We got Gene Hackman.

You're gonna argue with Gene Hackman?

He's fucking brilliant. It's a slam dunk.

- Sol, come on. - This is not going to happen.

Okay? Now, stop.

Just tee off, Tommy.

Most would give up to fight another day,

but not Susie.

No fucking way is she leaving empty-handed.

After all, she paid for parking.

No. No way. I like the Dodgers.

I got 'em for the pennant and the series.

Hey, Sol, what do you think?

To this day,

no one knows what she said to him.

What the hell?

Whether it was just her passion for the screenplay,

or a promise to control the budget,

or, hell, she could've had pictures of him

rogering a donkey or something.

Who knows? She had eyes everywhere.

- Whatever she said... - The picture's a go.

- What? - Close the deal by the end of day.

Susie will give you the terms.

- Whatever you need. - But, Sol...

Just make it happen.

...Boom, deal one, done.

But she ain't finished.

♪ That ain't the way to have fun, son...

Now, the foursome in front of them is going slow,

so Susie and her guys bump into 'em.

One of them is the guy who just took over programming for CBS.

Cameron! Hey there. Congrats on the shiny new job.

Thank you, Susie.

Like a showbiz cobra, she strikes immediately.

Says she has a project, wants him to have first crack.

It's a half-hour comedy, it's hysterical,

and it'll launch your Thursday nights.

Susie, please, we're trying to relax.

Call my office on Monday.

She's not waiting for Monday.

I got two clients already attached.

Liz Montgomery and Andy Griffith both signed to do it,

- and to do it at CBS. - Great pairing. What's the premise?

- Get this. - Get this,

there was no premise.

She was making it up on the spot.

There's a husband and wife, both shrinks.

Now, she's big city, sharp, Ivy League degree.

He's folksy, homespun, comes from the Deep South.

- Their patients keep dumping one to go to the other. - I love that.

So, what does she do on the fly?

She creates That's Our Time.

He picks it up on the spot,

and the fucking thing runs seven years.

- They got a couple of kids... - And here's the thing.

Those stars she mentioned, they weren't even her clients.

Not until they found out about the sitcom she created

and got greenlit for them to star in.

They signed with her immediately.

...vacuuming their house, too.

- Vacuuming? I love it. - Yeah.

Boom! Deal two, done.

But she still had 40 minutes left on that parking.

Susie says she has to hit the head.

- What else? What else? - Uh, there's this guy from a big record label.

Turns out she's got every caddy at the club on her payroll,

and they fill her in on what they know

from every hole on the course.

Okay. Good job, guys.

She finds out there's a guy there from A&M records.

She finds him pronto.

She tells the guy there's a couple of songwriters

out of London, they wrote this musical,

and they want to make an album to get some attention.

It's the whole story, soup to nuts,

all the way through the crucifixion.

- The 39 lashes and everything. - Wild.

Yeah, the songs are fucking catchy.

- You hear those demos, you'll want to make the album. - What's their names?

And just like that,

she breaks Tim Rice and Andrew Lloyd Webber.

And what does the world get?

Boom! The triple crown.

- You want some blow? - No, I'm good.

This next guest needs no introduction,

which is good, because I forgot his fucking name.

Oh, yeah, Aaron Lebowitz.

Come on up here, Aaron.

Hello, everybody.

As most of you know, I'm a manager,

and I've been competing with Susie

for more years than I can count.

And I have to admit,

there's nobody in this business like Susie.

Oh, sorry, I misread that.

It's "nobody in this business likes Susie."

I mean, really, what is there to say

about Susie Myerson that hasn't been said about Pol Pot?

Susie's like anybody else, really.

She has her bad side and her good side.

There's the ruthlessness, the vindictiveness,

the profane bile that spews from her mouth

like Satan's lava.

Then, on the bad side...

She was mentored by my one-time boss,

the late, great Harry Drake.

Yeah, that's about the response I expected.

When Harry died, he had so many knives in his back,

they had to bury him facedown.

But Harry truly respected Susie, even before she was somebody.

While they had their ups and downs,

Susie stayed loyal when others didn't.

Everybody knows the old man's losing it.

Clients are dropping him left and right.

Spencer Tracy's the latest.

Not that anyone gives a shit about Spencer Tracy.

You want another drink?

- You're paying. - Two more.

I wanted in on Dr. Strangelove.

Harry tells me they're giving it to George C. Scott.

George is good, but fuck it, I'm better.

- Yup. - What does Harry do for me, anyway?

Except take his cut.

I want you to represent me.

No more losing parts to George

or Tony Perkins or fucking Richard Burton.

In two years' time, here's what I want.

A penthouse with a terrace overlooking the park.

A closet full of Sy Devore suits.

Porsche 911 that I can drive

to my beachfront house in the Hamptons.

You with me?

Hey, what was that last film of yours, Taylor?

Daylight Fades?

Yeah. It did okay.

No, it didn't. And the one before that?

- The Earth Turns. - So did my stomach when I saw it.

- Hey! - What did Harry Drake do for you, Taylor?

He took a no-talent, run-of-the-mill

D-list hack actor who was number nine on the call sheet

of a fucking soap opera,

got him jobs he didn't earn,

didn't deserve and couldn't fucking pull off.

- Hey, what the fuck? - You sit there,

not giving a shit about Spencer Tracy.

You compare yourself to actors that are way out of your league,

and you think I'd stoop so low as to work with you

and fuck over Harry Drake to boot?

Well, I hope you got something to fall back on, asshole,

'cause the only house in the Hamptons you're gonna see

is the one with the pool you're cleaning,

and the only terrace you're gonna know

is the one you jump off of.

You pay for the drinks, you talentless shit.

Yeah, she had Harry's back.

Dumb fuck.

And at the end, Harry wound up handing

his biggest money earners over to her,

the ones who stayed,

bypassing his own associates in the doing.

I was one of those associates.

I liked this story till you made it about you.

Wait a minute, wait a minute.

How the hell did that happen?

Seriously, how the hell did Susie end up with those clients?

Kicked her into the stratosphere.

It cemented her legend.

I know what happened.

I'll tell you what happened.

The minute Harry was hospitalized,

Susie weaseled her way into his room.

Brought forged documents over

and forced the old man to sign 'em.

Wakey, wakey, Harry. You got three more to sign,

then you can shuffle off to Buffalo.

She didn't even let his family in...

- his daughter, no one. - Dad. - Grandpa.

- Is that Ruth? - No. Keep signing.

Dad, let us in, please.

- Keep signing, Harry. - That's my father.

No, no, no, no. That's not what I heard.

- What did you hear? - The daughter was there

but for a different reason.

Susie got to the daughter,

made a deal, and together, they bamboozled Harry

- into signing over his clients. - Good job, Dad.

- All done. - The daughter got paid in cash

- right there in the room. - Bullshit, guys.

Come on.

My big sister was a nurse at Lenox Hill.

She was on duty that night. She saw it all.

Hello, Harry.

Just checking in here. Everything good?

Very good. Thank you, Linda.

- You're sweet. - So are you.

Get some rest.

- She's cute. - Oh, stop.

I think she got something happening for me down there.

Check and see?

You want me to see if you have an erection? You are sick.

- You're a sick man. - Yup, I'm sick.

I am sick.

Hey, stop that. Okay? You promised.

Most of his employees had abandoned ship.

The ones that stayed were stealing

the goddamn paintings off the walls.

Harry, where's your daughter? Where's Ruth?

I don't know. She's, uh...

I don't know.

Hey, have you learned to play golf yet?

I'm not learning to play golf.

It's where deals get made.

You have to golf.

- I don't know. - I'm gonna leave you my clubs.

- I don't want your clubs. - Golf with them,

beat someone with them, I don't care.

You're taking my clubs.

- Hi, Harry. - Oh, hello.

Oh, goody, we just got that thing deflated.

They never beat the silents.

Oh, now, come on.

No. Nobody beat Keaton. Not at his peak.

Hell, he was 25 when he made this.

He was a genius.

This is funny, but there's funnier stuff.

I'm on my deathbed, and you're arguing with me?

- This is not your deathbed. - Susie...

- I'm dying. - Yeah, I know that.

I meant I'm gonna move you over to another bed

when you're about to croak.

This one's all gross and sweaty.

Harry, you're the only one who noticed me

when no one else did.

Thank you for that.

Listen...

I'm signing some clients over to you.

The big ones who stayed: Jerry, Mel,

- Peter, Lucy. - Harry, no.

I've discussed it with them, and they're good to go.

Just keep 'em on a path, like you did with Midge.

Keep 'em focused. Keep 'em happy.

But why? Why me?

You're the only one I trust.

- No. No. - The lawyers are into it.

You can do it.

You can do it, Susie.

We're, uh, missing the movie.

We're missing the movie.

He's comfortable.

Ruth?

I'm here, Dad.

- Shit. - Shit.

Sad.

It's not what I heard.

Okay, let me bring up a very funny man,

the funniest man in the room, which is saying nothing.

Ray Ortiz!

Thank you, and hello, Susie.

You know, the only reason Susie's here right now

is because she heard there are two-to-one odds

she'd even show up.

I'm not saying she has a gambling problem,

but she made a call to her bookie

halfway through Field of Dreams.

I mean, when she plays solitaire,

she bets against herself.

She once tried to go double or nothing at an IRS audit.

When I introduced Susie to my twin daughters,

she said, "Two eights? Split 'em!"

And then there's the boys.

You know what I mean, "the boys," huh?

And where there's the boys, there's Susie,

begging them to let her keep her pinky finger one more day.

But really, these are just rumors.

Rumors? Ha!

The mob had their hands in her pockets since day one,

just like Harry Drake, just like all of 'em.

Yeah, like I was gonna say that to the room.

I prefer being alive.

But Susie leaned into it,

more than others.

It started with that thing with Dinah Rutledge.

- You all know her, right? - Mm-hmm. Sure. - D-Ruttles.

- Susie's number two. - She runs the New York branch.

She runs New York, period. She's tough as Susie. - I'll say.

It was 1961, '62, that's when Susie went all in,

made those guys her muscle.

Hey, get me in at the Copa tonight.

In the way back, not like last time.

I looked like an asshole

walking out in the middle of that guy's act.

And let's start rolling calls.

- Guys from William Morris first. - Yup.

- You okay? - Yeah.

Dinah.

Ow.

What the fuck? How did this happen?

And do not tell me it was a fucking doorknob.

It was Ronald.

He got drunk, he got mad, he got jealous.

- Dinah. - I kicked him out. We're done.

You bet your ass you're done.

Look, you are gonna be a manager one day,

so I got to keep you in one piece.

But I'll make you a deal, okay?

From here on, I get prior approval

over any guy you date.

Stop it, it hurts to smile.

No, he's got to come in here, fill out a questionnaire.

It'll be quite lengthy, 50, 60 pages.

And then I want to see him in a bathing suit.

A tight one. I want you to see what you're getting.

Whatever you say, boss.

Okay, go home. Rest.

Take a taxi, not the subway.

Thanks.

And I'm sending over a massive amount of Zabar's.

Lots of chicken soup and babka.

- And candied fruit? - And candied fruit.

Now go. I'll see you tomorrow.

Yeah, you think that was the end of it?

Hell no.

- Now I need a favor. - Sure. What is it?

♪ How lucky can one guy be...

- Yeah? - Your name Ronald?

- Yeah. Who the fuck are you? - Who the fuck are we?

We're friends of Susie Myerson.

♪ Like the fella once said ♪

- ♪ Ain't that a kick in the head... - No! No!

They were old-school, those guys. Thorough.

And they still own a piece of every client Susie has.

Every client except Maisel.

Yeah, how'd that happen?

You said they were there from the start.

- Yeah, why not Maisel? - Mm-hmm.

I know, and I'm gonna tell you

right after I take a piss.

Oh, Jesus Christ, Carmine.

Carmine, finish the story.

Let's bring up our next speaker.

You know him. You're jealous of him.

He's an Oscar-nominated producer, three times over,

an Emmy award-winning television genius.

Legendary executive producer of The Gordon Ford Show,

Mike Carr!

Hello, all.

- Hello, Susie. - Mm-hmm.

I still owe you that lunch, don't I?

I'll take the cash equivalent.

So, who is Susie Myerson?

She's the only person in America

whose life was made better by Arthur 2.

She's the only woman who ever told Tom Cruise

that he's "unfuckably short."

And she's the only person I know who would get into

a screaming fight with Sidney Lumet

at Anne Bancroft's birthday party.

Susie and I met on Gordon Ford.

And just a quick side note about someone I worked with closely

for a number of years there.

It is the ten-year anniversary of the passing

of my old boss and mentor at Gordon Ford, George Toledano.

A lot of you knew him.

A lot of you venerated him.

He was a good man who never really got his due,

and I miss him every single day.

Bull. Shit.

Mikey hated George with a passion.

But George was Gordon's guy.

Georgie made Gordon.

Hell, when George found him,

Gordon was doing traffic and weather

in some bumfuck town.

- His sidekick was a chicken. - Mr. Cock-a-doodle-doo.

That's not even a chicken sound.

That's how lame it was.

But George saw something in him, put him on the fast track.

Hell, everyone thought the only way George

would leave Gordon's side was in a coffin.

- So, what happened? - Susie happened.

- Oh, yeah. - What? - I know this story.

- I do, too. - Okay, but I'm telling it.

Mike was the talent booker.

He and Susie started getting all buddy-buddy.

Another odd couple, like her and Harry.

No, you know how you say a word too many times,

it stops sounding like a word?

Well, there's a word for that.

- What's the word? - I can't remember the word.

Cess, you went to Harvard. What's the word?

I don't know. I didn't major in words.

- It's gonna bug me. - She's doing the tennis pro.

- Get out. - People say.

Was it legit camaraderie

or just Susie working some angle?

Either way, the angle presented itself.

Hey, Mike. Who made that dumb rule

that anyone who works on the show can't be on the show?

It's George.

George made the rule about

no one working on the show appearing on the show.

It's some dumb superstition of his

dating back to, I don't know, when he was a boy in Pompeii.

Gordon follows it 'cause...

I don't know. I don't know anything.

George, huh?

Semantic satiation!

That's two words.

Susie didn't like George either.

Even before she became the great Susie Myerson,

- small slights cut deep. - Good morning.

Hi, George. You remember Susie.

I don't believe we've met.

Oh, you've definitely met.

- Have we? - Only like half a dozen times.

- Well, then... good to see you. - Mm.

One thing Susie never liked

- was not being remembered. - Pleasure's mine.

That man was in her sights.

One night, there's a staff party in the studio.

Their 500th show, some shit like that.

The booze is free, so of course Susie's there.

She gets bored, she starts wandering around.

Don't push me like this, George!

Just get it the fuck done, Mike, or I'll find somebody who can.

Susie's super curious, so she goes after Mike.

He treats me like I'm the fucking receptionist.

Demeans me in front of the staff every chance he gets.

- Mike's had it. - I've fucking had it.

- Does Gordon know that? - Oh, he knows.

He's dangled me producing shows for him

when his network deal closes, but guess what.

- They can't make a deal. - What? Why?

Gordon's number one. What's the holdup?

I'd put fucking money on George Toledano being the holdup.

Susie had invested a lot of time in Mike Carr,

and she did not want him to leave.

- George, huh? - He could decide to, I don't know,

go into his father-in-law's fucking plumbing business,

and what good would that do Susie?

She had a plumber, so she decided to do some snooping.

Have you gone through his stuff?

Whose stuff?

You can't do this.

Sure I can. Just watch.

There's security guards that walk the floor.

They're all at the party.

Eh, bullshit, bullshit, bullshit.

Ooh. Why does he have rubber gloves?

I don't know, maybe to go through my stuff.

Locked drawer.

These douchebags that never open letters,

but they all have letter openers.

I truly despise that.

Okay, I can't be here. Goodbye.

She's either the best snoop in the business

or the luckiest son of a bitch who ever walked the planet.

The gun was smoking like a three-alarm fire,

and Mikey's life was about to change.

And as for George...

Dorie, is it possible

you're more beautiful today than yesterday?

I did change my lashes.

How's the best writing staff in the business?

Nice suit, George.

Oh, you look trim, Freddie. What's your secret?

Grapefruit, George.

Alan?

The poor bastard never saw it coming.

Gordon would like you and your personal effects

gone within the hour.

Turns out George was single-handedly

holding up Gordon's contract.

George wanted his mortgage paid off,

a new boat, a fucking horse farm,

a house for a "friend."

When Gordon heard, he blew his stack

and Mikey got the job.

Hey, Dinah! This one just winked at me.

Pigeons don't wink. It blinked.

It fucking winked, I'm telling you.

Good God, that amuses me.

Why does that amuse me so much?

It's because you're easily amused.

It was all in a day's work for Susie Myerson.

Goddamn, I love these things.

So, Susie,

my old friend.

Old, old friend.

You're very old.

I'll leave you with this.

Okay.

- Yeah, Susie! - Okay, okay.

You've taken your piss, my brother, now talk.

Yeah, come on, spill.

How did Midge Maisel get out from under the mob?

All right, so you know about Midge's first husband, right?

The man who gave her the Maisel?

Well, I have worked for Joel Maisel,

and he is one tough son of a bitch,

- let me tell you. - He just got out of the clink, right?

Yeah, he got caught up in that big FBI sweep a few years back.

- Blame Susie for that, too. - Jesus. - No.

Yeah. Now, the mob had sunk their teeth into Susie

from the start, so they owned Midge lock,

stock and barrel, and Joel Maisel wasn't having it.

He's in your office.

Goddamn it.

He'd just busted in,

demanded to know what they were getting of his ex-wife's.

- Are you fucking crazy? - Where are they?

- Where's what? - Your books.

My accountant has 'em.

Not those books.

These books.

You know, there are laws against breaking and entering.

Asshole. Asshole!

It was all there in black and white.

For every 100 bucks Midge made,

Susie got 15 and the mob got 30.

- I told you not to call the cops. - I didn't.

This is my cousin Dougie, he was meeting me for lunch.

- Nice to meet you. - Nice to meet you.

Shit.

Guys, wait. Hold up.

- So, you know this man? - Yes.

- Do you want to press charges? - No.

It's a misunderstanding.

Care to explain the misunderstanding?

Nope. Just let him go.

Leave the premises.

- I'll make sure he goes. - Rain check, Dougie?

Yup.

Joel, listen.

She's gonna make so much goddam money,

it's not gonna matter.

I will commit my life to her, everything.

I'm gonna make this happen.

This situation, it'll be a footnote.

They own her, Susie.

I can fix this.

He knew there was no fixing it, not for Susie.

So, what does he do?

He walks straight into the lion's den.

♪ I love those J-I-N-G-L-E bells ♪

♪ Those holiday J-I-N-G-L-E bells...

♪ Those happy J-I-N-G-L-E B-E double-L-S ♪

- ♪ I love those... - Can we help you?

Frank and Nicky, right?

Yeah?

I'm Joel Maisel. You got a minute?

Sure.

We'll be right back, guys. Hey.

There's good.

You're Frank?

Yeah. That's Nicky.

You know, my mother actually named me after St. Nicholas,

'cause I came out fat and jolly.

Plus, my pop got clipped on Christmas.

My kids are waiting. What's up?

You can't have Midge.

- What? - You can't have her.

- You just can't. - I don't get it.

We don't have Midge.

But you have Susie, right?

We don't talk about our clients.

Look, I'm not a schmuck.

I didn't come here empty-handed.

I've got something to offer in exchange.

- Really? - What?

- Me. - You?

Trying to picture you in a cocktail dress.

I've got a place in Chinatown. A nightclub.

Turns big profits, it's got lines around the block.

- Chinatown, huh? - Hmm. Tough market.

I'm fucking good at this, this business.

I make money.

And with the right financing, I could expand quick,

quicker than what I'm doing now.

You guys do financing, right?

Yeah, we do financing.

Then let go of her.

Let her walk away.

Look, Joel, she's starting to make good money.

She's the mother of my kids, and I want her clear of this.

You've got kids.

- Give us a minute. - Sure.

Would you like a cookie?

I made them myself.

- Which one's the best? - The star.

- Merry Christmas. - Merry Christmas.

You ever been popped?

- No. - Good.

The old man liked the idea.

You, as like, a front man.

He's already got ideas for cities to put clubs in.

Cities we do business in.

Always open to ideas.

So, you'll leave Midge alone?

You got some balls on you, pal, I'll give you that.

Yeah, we'll leave Midge alone.

Okay.

So, what happens now?

We should get back to the kids.

Happy Hanukkah.

He skirted charges longer than anybody thought

he could, had good lawyers, caught some breaks.

But ultimately they threw the book at him,

hard, brought the whole thing tumbling down.

He took the full rap.

Protected that partner of his, Archie Cleary,

made sure he was okay.

He supposedly stashed some money in Bermuda or somewhere

for when he got out. Who knows?

And Midge, well, she never deserted him.

Susie Myerson.

Is she gay, is she straight? Who can tell?

But I've seen some of the deals she's closed

over the years, and one group of people

I know she fucks is her clients.

But, you know, she just got George Carlin

booked on a children's show. Yeah.

Next year he's taking over for Ringo Starr

on Shining Time Cocksucker Shit Piss

Fuck Cunt Tits Motherfucker Station.

So, Susie, you ready for a special guest?

- No. - Too bad.

It took three connecting flights and two B-12 injections

to get our next guest here, but get her here we did.

Ladies and gentlemen, Susie's little sister Tessie Myerson.

Yeah.

- Hiya, sis. - Hello, Tess.

So, so, so,

so, what can I say about Susie Myerson

that hasn't been said about Pol Pot?

When I introduced her to my twin daughters,

she said, "Two eights? Split 'em."

I should've been a comedian.

- That was weird. - Super weird.

She just did everybody else's jokes.

Susie is the only person I know

who would get into a screaming fight

with Sidney Lumet at Anne Bancroft's birthday party.

- Who is Sidney Lumet? - Okay, Tessie, wrap it up.

But in all honesty, sis.

I'm thrilled to be here.

You've always been my rock,

and you've always been supportive of me.

Happy birthday.

It's not my fucking birthday.

This woman.

This woman had belief and passion

for my singing career when no one else did.

- Oh, boy. - She is solely responsible

for my smash disco single "Never Ever Gonna Stop."

It hit number 85 on the Billboard Dance charts,

and it even made it to number one in Indonesia.

I mean, I didn't even know Indonesia was real before that,

and now I live there.

It was Susie's idea.

Anyway, I'm gonna liven this morgue up a bit

and do it for you now. Hit it.

♪ When I saw you at the nightclub ♪

♪ You were dancing ♪

And then it just got fucking weirder.

♪ Let me rub your face ♪

- ♪ While you shake your hips ♪ - Okay.

♪ I'm just a baby girl who wants to taste your lips ♪

♪ You say you have to go ♪

♪ But, boy, there's something you should know ♪

♪ It's that I'm never, never, ever ♪

♪ Gonna stop loving you, watching you, following you ♪

♪ Never, never, ever gonna stop ♪ ♪

Hey, hey, you stopped it before the best part.

- The sex groaning. - There we go.

Tessie Myerson, everybody.

- Keep boogying, people. - Oh, yeah.

Talent sure runs in the family.

So Susie did that for her sister?

- That-that was a nice thing? - No...

- Yes, it was a nice thing. - She's not a total monster.

Yeah, she was a great manager, up until she dumped me.

She was great because she'd do anything for her client.

Do you know the Midge Maisel Hawaiian wedding story?

- Spill it. - Let's hear it.

I just hope to God it's true.

Ah...

- You hear that? - Hear what?

The fucking ocean.

You can't hear the fucking ocean?

Sounds a little like traffic.

Hey, Marcy, get Lucius back on the line.

And is that a ukulele?

I am so at peace. Like, for the first time ever.

I'm eating pineapple every day.

I want to buy a house here.

Jesus Christ, you scared me.

I can't do this. I can't do this.

What, zip up? I'll help you zip up.

Not zip up. I can't do this. I can't get married.

I'll call you back.

Oh, are you fucking kidding?

Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha.

It's a mistake. Can't do it.

Miriam, there are 700 people here to see you get married.

- I know. - In 20 minutes.

- I know. - We rented a fucking island.

Flew people in from all over the world.

I know, I know.

The Jordan almond budget alone

could finance a Navy SEAL strike.

I hate Jordan almonds.

You are getting married.

- No. - Yes.

- No, No! - Yes. Why?! Why?

I don't love him.

You didn't love the last guy either.

That didn't stop you.

It's not him. Philip is great.

He really is, but there's love and then there's love, you know.

And then there's love.

And I don't have that right kind of love-love

for him, you know?

I am gonna beat you with a pineapple.

I know it's crazy, but I was in my room

and I looked at myself in this outfit

and I thought, this is not a good outfit.

- This outfit is a cry for help. - The pants were surprising.

And the guest list?

This started off as an intimate wedding.

Thirty people, 50. Just our closest friends.

Then it just kept expanding and expanding

till it turned into this 700-headed monster.

Comedians I barely know, relatives I have never met.

Four ex-boyfriends.

So many bad vibes. What was I thinking?

The more the merrier?

He has no sense of humor.

I need a man who makes me laugh at breakfast,

and he just doesn't make me laugh.

I hate him for that. I shouldn't hate him,

but I do.

- I am loving Philip Roth. - Such a gentleman.

He just gave me a complete set of his books.

Signed. Terrific guy.

He seems to have it in for that Norman Mailer fellow,

also very charming.

Are we ready to go?

I think I'm still in love with Joel.

- What? - Joel's not funny either.

- What's happening? - Get this.

She is considering backing out of the fucking marriage,

until she comes to her fucking senses

and stops looking for crazy reasons

to back out of the fucking marriage.

I'm sorry, I'm still in love with Joel.

- Joel who? - Joel Grey?

No, Joel Maisel.

Why would you say Joel Grey?

Because you dated Joel Grey.

You were engaged to Joel Grey

until you called it off.

Because he didn't make you laugh.

You picking up on a pattern here?

Philip is a great lover.

- Ew. - Miriam. - Hey, hey.

I'm sorry, I'm making a mental pro/con list, and that is a pro.

A big pro. And he's smart.

And he's very easy to buy shoes for.

Oh, God, I'm running out of pros.

What about the band?

The band is all set up and ready to go.

We'll just have to pay them off.

It's Three Dog Night.

You don't just pay off Three Dog Night.

And we flew in special musical guests to join them.

Marvin Gaye, Jim Croce.

- Oh, I love Jim Croce. - I know.

That's why I fucking arranged to surprise you with Jim Croce.

And Grand Funk Railroad.

Grand Funk Railroad? The hard rock band?

I don't like Grand Funk Railroad.

- You told me you did. - I told you I like funk music,

not Grand Funk Railroad.

Well, they're here, they're high,

and they're ready to play.

We paid for the cake.

Do we get our money back for the cake?

I can't go through with this.

Sorry, I just can't.

Well, are you gonna let him know that?

'Cause he thinks he's getting married in ten minutes.

I can't. I can't be the one to tell him.

I just can't.

Miriam, I have done a lot for you over the years.

I jumped onto a subway track

to retrieve your third-favorite hat.

I came to your apartment at 4:00 a.m. to kill a cockroach.

Turned out to be a raisin.

I've euthanized three of your elderly pets.

I've wrung out your wet bras on hotel terraces.

I wrestled a Turkish police officer to the ground,

I kept Ethel Merman away from you, but this,

this has nothing to do with your career.

It's your personal life, and I got to start drawing lines,

and I'm starting today.

I'm sorry, but you get yourself out of this.

She needs someone to laugh with, Philip,

and you just don't make her laugh.

Yes, I-I've read Portnoy's Complaint. It's very funny.

You just don't make her laugh at the breakfast table.

That's the bottom line.

Then you should have read Portnoy's Complaint aloud

at the fucking breakfast table, I don't know.

Here's the thing. She likes funk, not Grand Funk.

Really, this is your fault

because you picked the name, it's very confusing.

It was a very expensive cake.

My girl's on the phone with the cake place now.

It was a very expensive cake.

Maybe they can resell it.

It was a very expensive cake.

I will get you your money back, I promise.

It took her weeks to undo the mess,

and the whole thing cost her a bloody fortune.

The cake was quite pricey.

Yeah.

She couldn't resist Midge,

especially when she was vulnerable.

See, Midge drove herself hard, and Susie knew it.

She was a perfectionist and took a lot of risks onstage.

- There's got to be something... - And, shit, most of 'em paid off.

The cake is customized. It's a specific flavor...

Susie always had a tremendous amount

of respect for her.

A loyalty that couldn't be shaken.

But it was more than that.

Really, in a way, it was love.

But you don't have to throw it out.

You can donate it to a charity.

And in succeeding years, three of Philip Roth's

most loathsome characters were based directly on Susie.

Hawaii fucking sucks.

So what happened? Anyone know?

- What happened with what? - Between Midge and Susie.

They were inseparable. What the fuck happened?

Lost in the fog of war.

- I don't think anyone knows. - Anyone alive, at least.

I do.

Susie told me one night when she was drunk.

A year later, Midge told me the story

one night when she was drunk.

- Well? - Did the stories even match?

Some things did, some didn't. But I think I got the gist.

And where it all happened, holy shit.

♪ Da'amiran be'almah ♪

♪ Ve'imru ♪

♪ Amen ♪ ♪

We begin with the silent Amidah,

which can be found on page 382.

Little cutie.

I couldn't resist.

- Does Chava scare you, too? - Huh?

Corporal Chava, does she scare the shit out of you?

'Cause I think one of these days you're gonna find my body

in a date tree.

Hey, you okay?

It's just really warm in here.

And Chava's terrifying.

Excuse me, gentlemen, may we help you?

FBI, Rabbi.

I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.

What? Why?

I had no idea they'd come here.

Papa, what's happening?

What has your godless mother done now?

Damn it, Chava, I understand a decent amount of Hebrew.

- Joel, what is going on? - They're here for me.

- For you? Why? - Read this.

- It's everything you should know. - Joel.

- You're looking for me. I'm Joel Maisel. - Papa.

Hands behind your back, please.

I truly hate New York.

Mr. Maisel, you're under arrest.

What?! No, this-this is a mistake.

You have the right to remain silent...

- It's not. - Joel, what happened?

- Read the letter. - You have the right to an attorney.

I have a criminal attorney.

Why do you have a criminal attorney?

- Let's go. - Joel?!

You rang?

Pretty dramatic place to meet.

Where is everybody? Where's the family?

Miriam?

Joel's been arrested.

- What? When? - About an hour ago.

Right in the middle of services.

Holy shit. For what?

- Oh, I think you know. - No, I don't.

Racketeering, wire fraud, money laundering.

Jesus, that's... that's terrible.

Yes, it is.

What?

He did this for me.

For you? What are you talking about?

You sold me to Frank and Nicky.

- You sold me to the mob. - I did not.

And Joel made a trade years ago.

Him for me. It's all here.

- Miriam... - He'll be in jail for years, Susie.

Now, wait a minute.

You knew I was involved with those guys.

You knew Frank and Nicky.

But you told me I was free of them,

and I wasn't, not until Joel did what he did.

Okay, news flash. This is show business, lady.

- You lied to me. - That's show business, too.

Don't talk down to me.

When you and I started, those guys owned everyone.

Everyone who had no one looking out for them.

Oh, now don't talk down to me.

Who owns you now, Susie, today?

Who owns me? I own myself.

- That's not what people tell me. - What people?

They say all these casinos you've been booking me in

is to pay off your goddamn gambling debts.

Oh, so let me get this straight. You're saying you hate

those big casino paychecks?

Huh? The suites with the private pools,

that's making you feel owned?

I didn't want to do those casino gigs, Susie,

- but you kept pushing and pushing. - Not true!

I've been on the road for 15 years, I needed a break.

And you slammed me into three shows a night,

six nights a week.

Christmas off, Thanksgiving off, Hanukkah off!

No one gets fucking Hanukkah off.

Jackie Mason doesn't get Hanukkah off.

How much do you owe Caesars, Susie? Harrah's?

- Hold on. - The Flamingo?

- The Sands? - Who are these people telling you all of this?

I want names.

Why, so you can blackball them?

- Or worse? - Or worse?

Miriam, you know me. You know who I am.

Do I?

Twenty-five years you've known me. We're friends.

Friends?

Boy, that's convenient.

The first time you call me a friend

is when you're caught.

My team's gonna order an audit of your books.

- An audit? - I hope you don't fight them.

You used to trust me.

You sound like George Toledano now.

In fact, this is exactly what he did to Gordon.

Made deals behind his back.

It's what got him fired.

You're comparing me to George Toledano?

Fuck you! You are a star because of me.

Or in spite of you.

You were a housewife. You were nothing.

You should leave.

I'm not leaving.

Al is right outside the door.

Oh, you're gonna have your security

escort me out of the building?

Are you fucking kidding me?!

Fine. I got what I needed out of you.

Wish I could say the same.

You ungrateful cunt.

This is how I'm gonna remember you, Susie.

Small.

Well, it's that time

nobody's been waiting for.

Buckle up, because I bring you our guest of honor...

and she's not here.

What the hell? I thought we locked the doors.

♪ Around the world ♪

♪ The trip begins with a kiss...

I bowl with the gals from The B-52's.

I'm gonna tell them to book you in their next video.

You're phenomenal.

- You're up, boss. - Christ on the cross, all right.

Adios, amigos.

♪ Without wings, without wheels ♪ ♪

Susie, good.

Hope everything came out okay.

Our guest of honor, everyone, Susie Myerson.

Wow. Over 30 years in the business,

and this is who shows up to celebrate me.

It's a real who's who of who gives a fuck.

I mean, I haven't been this uninterested

in what a group of people had to say since that time

I went to an AA meeting.

Now, what's there to say about Aaron Lebowitz?

This man has a roster of some of the best comics

that I dropped five years ago.

They're funnier than that joke.

Face it, you are the Jim Belushi of managers

who couldn't even sign Jim Belushi.

And Carmine, wow.

I will say this. You have one of the most

unique acts in comedy.

Unfortunately it's Sam Kinison's.

Before I got up here, I found out

this isn't a paid gig for any of you,

which means my ass isn't getting paid either,

so I'll make it fucking brief.

I'm supposed to say something sincere now, yeah?

Okay. Uh, you know, this is the only business

that would ever put up with a bitch like me.

Suckers!

Always an inspiration. Thank you, Susie.

- You get the cream puffs? - Right here.

Get my car.

Now hold it right there, young lady.

We got one more thing to throw at you.

Ah, fuck me with a fork.

We have a special video tribute. Fun, huh?

You'll like this.

Lower the screen, guys.

Okay, what's the rush?

Do we or do we not have the latest

in cutting-edge technology, people?

Come on, come on.

Dim the lights, guys.

- Fuckity-fuck. - What the hell is this?

Forget the tripod, you're not making Citizen Kane.

No. No way in hell.

Okay. While my friend Imogene performs

variations on scenes from Chinatown,

let me proceed.

So, hey there.

Have you had fun trying to avoid saying my name all night?

Hope none of you had the breaded shrimp.

They've been in the freezer since the last time

Jerry Lewis was funny.

You know, I thought about making a sex tape

just to crank this party up a notch,

but I was afraid it would get laughs.

I'm sorry I couldn't be there in person tonight,

although I dressed for the occasion.

I'm actually in New Mexico.

- Kansas. - Kansas. Sorry.

I was wondering why New Mexico had a Wizard of Oz museum.

Now, a lot of you have said

a lot of appropriately inappropriate things

about Susie Myerson tonight,

most of which is probably earned

and half of which is probably true,

so you've got that covered.

What I'm here to say

is that Susie made me what I am today.

She saw a nervous breakdown and turned it into a career.

No, a life.

I don't know if I ever really thanked you

for that, Susie.

Don't get me wrong, we had our spats.

Oh, many, many spats.

And one really big one towards the end.

But we had our good times, too.

I've gotten to hang out with some of the funniest people

on the planet, but no one's made me laugh like Susie.

Aw.

I've gotten a little nostalgic lately

thinking about those years.

Remember the plunger? Do you have that still?

And the arthritis telethon and hiding from Sophie Lennon.

"Doink"? Remember "doink"?

And the smell of the Gaslight.

Jackie.

I was thinking about Jackie the other day.

I still miss that weirdo.

What do you say...

What do you say we get together

next time I'm back in town?

We'll meet on neutral turf, anywhere you want.

Anywhere but a synagogue.

The Jews have suffered enough.

I hope you want to do that, and soon, 'cause

we are not getting any younger.

So...

tits up, old friend.

- Aw. - Tits up.

And I hope to see you soon.

You got to turn off the camera.

I can't find the button.

It's the same button you pushed to turn it on.

Fuckity-fuck.

Right there. It's the little red...

How's that for a finale, people?

- Get me a number for Midge. - Her girl just called it in.

Car's all ready.

Thank you all for coming.

Oh, and no one gets out without pitching in

at least a hundred bucks

to the Jackie Dellapietra Foundation.

At least.

Think I'm gonna walk home, Dennis.

Nice night for it, ma'am.

Yeah. Nice night.

♪ The words I have to say ♪

♪ May well be simple, but they're true ♪

♪ Until you give your love ♪

♪ There's nothing more that we can do ♪

♪ Love is the opening door ♪

♪ Love is what we came here for ♪

♪ No one could offer you more ♪

♪ Do you know what I mean? ♪

♪ Have your eyes really seen? ♪

♪ You say it's very hard ♪

♪ To leave behind the life we knew ♪

♪ But there's no other way ♪

♪ And now it's really up to you ♪

♪ Love is the key we must turn ♪

♪ Truth is the flame we must burn ♪

♪ Freedom the lesson we must learn ♪

♪ Do you know what I mean? ♪

♪ Have your eyes really seen? ♪

♪ Love is the opening door ♪

♪ Love is what we came here for ♪

♪ No one could offer you more ♪

♪ Do you know what I mean? ♪

♪ Have your eyes really seen? ♪

♪ Do you know what I mean? ♪ ♪