Original subtitles

DON PARDO: It’s Saturday Night Live.

With Dana Carvey.

Nora Dunn.

Phil Hartman.

Jan Hooks.

Victoria Jackson.

Jon Lovitz.

Dennis Miller.

And Kevin Nealon.

And featuring Al Franken.

G.E. Smith and the Saturday Night Live band.

Special musical guest Randy Newman

with Mark Knopfler.

And starring John Larroquette.

Ladies and gentlemen, John Larroquette.

Yes.

Yes, don’t hold back.

Let it all out.

( WILD APPLAUSE CONTINUES )

Feels good, doesn’t it?

Oh, God, it’s great to be back.

Center stage on Saturday Night Live.

I love doing this show.

I love the sketches, I love working with the cast,

but all of that pales in comparison

to this moment.

Me, alone, center stage,

with millions of adoring eyes fixed on John Larroquette.

( APPLAUSE RESUMES )

That’s right.

Feed me. Fill me up!

Yes! I am at the center.

This is where I belong.

A year and a half ago, I hosted this show

and I tasted the sweetness of this moment.

But then...

I had to let it go.

Week after week,

a pathetic parade of pretenders

stood up here,

and tried to fill my shoes.

And I could only watch.

How painful was my exile.

But now I am back in full glory.

- All energies... - ( APPLAUSE RESUMES )

converge and fix upon me.

This is my spot.

So...

Who thinks they’re man enough to take it away from me, huh?

Come on! You’re all envious.

You’re out there.

Who has the guts to steal my limelight?

There must be somebody.

How about you, tourist?

This is your moment. Seize it.

You can tell all your friends back in Tourist Town

that you bested Larroquette.

Ha ha ha, not man enough, huh?

Oh, and what have we here? A college boy.

I won’t even ask you.

You’re too busy hiding in your ivory tower.

Yes, that’s right. Come on. Take your best shot.

Come on, come on, come on.

( APPLAUSE )

What was that? Did a breeze brush my cheek?

None of you are fit to challenge me.

I am far too powerful.

( MANIACAL LAUGHTER )

John, I think the spotlight

is goin’ to your head a little bit.

Come on, let’s just get outta here.

John, John!

John, come on!

- What is my name? - John Larroquette.

- Who am I? - You’re the host of the show.

King of the studio.

That’s right.

And we have got a show worthy of me.

Randy Newman is here, so don’t go away.

We’ll be right back.

John F. Kennedy was 6’1".

Abraham Lincoln was 6’4".

Franklin Delano Roosevelt was 6’1".

George Bush is 6’2".

But Michael Dukakis is 5’5 1/2".

Good evening, and welcome to...

Tonight we bring you our nine-part...

part nine, rather, of our ten-part series

in the life of Pablo Picasso,

a man whose work changed the course of our history.

Few realize it, but late in life,

Picasso, then an artistic superstar,

was unusually generous with his talent.

Let’s visit him now at the Cafe de la Place.

Monsieur Picasso, this young American wishes to meet you.

Mr. Picasso, I’m so thrilled to talk to you.

I’ve been struggling to sell my paintings for eight years,

and your inspiration is the only thing that’s kept me going.

Ha ha! Eight years, huh?

Here, give me this piece of paper.

You sell this little doodle to any art gallery,

you take the next eight years off.

Thank you, Mr. Picasso. Thank you so much.

I’m Picasso!

Will there be anything else?

Yeah, get me a slab of that white cake. No, wait a second.

Here. Get me a corner piece with lots of frosting.

Not a bad deal, huh?

Yes, monsieur. Thank you, monsieur.

Yeah, well, it comes easy to me.

I’m Picasso!

Hey, this is really good. This kid has talent.

Kid, kid, kid, let me see that.

Let me see what you got there. Bring it over here.

Let’s see. Well, well, well.

Not bad, but now, it’s worth something, huh?

A lot of something.

There. Go to college on me, sonny boy. No, wait a second.

There. Go to law school!

Hey, I’m Picasso. There’s only one!

Hey, lady, what you eatin’?

It’s a chocolate soufflé.

Yeah?

Now it’s a masterpiece.

Go ahead and buy the restaurant, sister.

Hey, Maestro!

Give me this violin. Come here, you.

Here you go. Smashed by Picasso.

Yeah, thank me. I’m Picasso.

Hey! Hey, fellas.

Up for grabs!

Hey, stick around, fellas. Picasso’s got hay fever.

Here’s your cake.

And here is your bill.

Oh... oh...

Oh, well, well, well.

Seems like Picasso left his wallet at home.

What is Picasso gonna do?

Give me this pen. This’ll take all of ten seconds.

I’ll handle this.

Well, Mr. Picasso!

We’ve had just about enough of your shenanigans.

Look, Rochinboux, I don’t have the scratch,

so pipe down. I’ll scribble you something.

The honeymoon is over, Picasso.

Either you pay or you wash.

Listen to me, you stuffed shirt.

There ain’t no way Picasso’s doing dishes.

Well, we’ll see.

We’ll just see about that, Mr. Picasso.

What a revoltin’ development.

In the final years,

Picasso’s artistic output diminished

due to his constant feuding with Rochinboux.

It wasn’t until they were accidentally locked in a bank vault together

that they reached a common understanding.

Join us next week for another...

* Monday night, Monday night *

* Is always party night around me *

* Poor me, poor me *

* Pour me another drink *

DON PARDO: Finally, in one record collection,

the up and down career of one of country’s

best-loved and most unpredictable superstars,

Vernon Hawley Jr.

* Scotch is for the highway *

* And rye for dirt roads *

* Prison bars don’t serve liquor *

* And it’s always closing time in jail *

* Wednesday night, Wednesday night *

* Don’t tell me everything ain’t all right *

* Dear son *

* I’m sorry *

* I let you down *

* Again *

Ride the emotional rollercoaster of Vernon’s life with...

* I lost every friend that I’ve ever had *

* ’ Cept Jack Daniel’s *

* Old Grand-dad and me *

* Jack Daniel’s, Old Grand-dad and me *

* We’re as happy as we could ever be *

And of course, Vernon’s biggest hit...

* I’m drunk *

* Just like you thunk *

* Drunk as a skunk *

* That’s right, I’m drunk *

Those who have been lucky enough

to hear him in concert

on those occasions when he showed up,

know the magic of Vernon Hawley Jr.

* Dear son *

* I stood and watched you in the schoolyard *

* And I feel so ashamed *

* Oh, I just found a fifty-dollar bill *

* Buddy, you and me can drink our fill *

* Face down at Christmas again *

All the peaks and valleys, the highs and lows of

one of country’s most enduring yet erratic superstars.

* One day at a time *

* I’m grateful to be sober *

* Off the wagon, on the warpath *

* Look out, here comes Vernon again *

Until now, it was impossible

to put together this three-record set

of Vernon Hawley Jr.’s greatest hits,

because we couldn’t find him.

But finally, you can experience the apogees and nadirs

of one of country’s most mercurial stars

by sending 19.95 to:

I hope you remember these old tunes,

’cause I don’t.

John F. Kennedy’s parents were born in America.

Abraham Lincoln’s parents were born in America.

Franklin Delano Roosevelt’s parents were born in America.

George Bush’s parents were born in America.

But Michael Dukakis’ parents...

And now, Weekend Update,

with anchorperson Dennis Miller.

Thank you.

Good evening, and what can I tell ya?

The rumor flying around the campaign trail this week

is that Vice-President George Bush

has not always been faithful to his wife Barbara.

Weekend Updatehas learned that he has had a string of affairs

over the last five years.

Some guys are just freaks for a certain type.

On the campaign trail this week,

Vice-President Bush made whirlwind appearances

in Los Angeles, Chicago, Houston, Dallas and New York,

while running mate Dan Quayle made stops at

Pixley, Dog Patch, Hooterville,

and a big stump speech at Floyd’s barbershop in Mayberry.

You know, this kid’s harder to get at now

than a mob informant.

Another poll this week shows that many Americans

feel that Lloyd Bentsen is a heartbeat away from no heartbeat.

President Reagan this week fulfilled his year-old promise

to Soviet premier Mikhail Gorbachev

that if he would sign the INF treaty,

Reagan would eat a warhead.

Now let me get this straight.

Bush is anti-abortion, but pro death penalty.

I guess it’s all in the timing, huh?

Have you noticed the...

( APPLAUSE )

Have you noticed, the more confident this guy gets,

the more stupid he begins to look?

Out in Euclid, Ohio, this week,

following the debate and the latest poll results,

Michael Dukakis picked up a trumpet

and played his newly adopted official campaign song.

Let’s hear a little of it.

( PLAYING "TAPS" )

From time to time, we invite people

with different points of view to express their opinions,

With us to discuss the 1988 presidential campaign

is political nut case Lyndon LaRouche. Hi, Lyndon.

The 1988 presidential campaign

has come down ultimately to the choice between two evils.

On the one hand, the wicked George Bush,

on the other, the demented Michael Dukakis.

Bush, a former member of the satanic Trilateral Commission,

is a known co-conspirator

of the homosexual child molester Henry Kissinger.

However, it is the severely deranged Dukakis

who poses the greatest threat to our very survival.

Not since 1972, when the psychotic Thomas Eagleton

was chosen as running mate by the fiendish George McGovern,

has our nation been so at risk.

The maniacal Dukakis,

in collusion with the depraved Lloyd Bentsen,

and the International Monetary Fund,

seek a policy of systematic genocide

against the people of the third world.

A policy that could only have been hatched

in the mind of the most diabolical fiend

of the 20th century, Walter Mondale.

And now, the madman Dukakis,

along with his confederates,

the murderous John Glenn,

the sinister Bill Bradlee,

and the black Mephistopheles, Jesse Jackson,

have set about to perpetrate

the greatest lie of them all.

That I... am insane.

Well, thank you, Lyndon.

We here at Weekend Update always enjoy hearing a different point of view.

I doubt that.

Being that NBC has plotted against me for years,

and General Electric is one of the world’s largest launderers

of drug money.

All right, then.

Thank you for sharing your opinions, and good luck.

I’ll get you for that.

Well, the last liberal in America, Ira Halperin,

was hunted down with bloodhounds today

in the remote hills of eastern Tennessee.

Under intense police questioning,

Halperin confessed to having smoked pot

during the ’60s and having opposed the war in Vietnam.

Tragically, Halperin was later dragged from his cell

and lynched by moderately conservative vigilantes.

Leon Lederman, Melvin Schwartz and Jack Steinberger

were awarded the Nobel prize in physics this week

for their experiments with neutrinos,

tiny ghostlike particles that travel at the speed of light.

The results of their experiments show

that neutrinos are also great with sliced bananas and cream.

Ousted Philippine president Ferdinand Marcos,

charged this week with embezzling $100 million

and using the money to buy four New York buildings,

said today that he was living in the buildings

when they went co-op, and was able to buy them

at a special insider price.

Chainsaw murderers from all over Alaska

rushed to help the trapped whales this week.

Those whales continue to be stranded

near Point Barrow, Alaska.

They were locked into an ice floe

after not leaving soon enough for their southern migration.

What do you wanna bet it was the woman whale

who wasn’t dressed, wasn’t ready,

and the guy whale ends up paying the price?

You know, when I see these whale pictures,

it always reminds me of the pickle jar

at the Carnegie Deli.

And now, with an editorial on the presidential race,

here’s our very own Kevin Nealon.

Hello, Kevin.

I have one comment on the upcoming elections.

And believe me, I’m not an authority on politics,

and I’m not pretending to have all the answers.

God knows, I don’t.

Even if I did, I’d be the last one to force my views on anyone.

Because, you know, I’ve been wrong before,

and I could be wrong again.

And above all, I’m not trying to tell you what to do.

So you can take this or leave it.

It’s not written in stone.

Just my opinion.

And everyone’s entitled to their own opinion.

And it may very well differ from yours.

That’s fine.

It’s just a subjective reaction to what I’ve seen,

and for all I know, I could be way off base on this.

So by all means, take it with a grain of salt.

I’m not trying to brainwash you.

I’m not trying to make up your mind for you.

It’s just a simple comment.

It’s not gospel.

I’m not an expert, believe me.

I’m not trying to pretend it’s the end all-be all.

So with that in mind, I’d like to say that

whether you’re pro Bush or pro Dukakis,

you should still get out and vote...

unless it’s raining or it’s inconvenient,

you don’t feel like it or something.

So there, I’ve said it. Thanks.

Well, the rock group Chicago recently released a new album,

Chicago 19.

This comes as startling news to all of us

who bailed out at number two.

The Los Angeles Dodgers,

even though they were decimated by injuries,

and forced to use second and third-string players,

won the World Series on Thursday night.

( SCATTERED APPLAUSE AND BOOS )

This isn’t Morton Downey.

By defeating the Oakland A’s 5 to 2.

The winning pitcher for the Dodgers

was the cute old bald guy from the Benny Hill show.

This week, Robin Givens announced that not only

would she refuse to take any money from Mike Tyson,

but she would also give the champ over a million dollars.

Afterward, she plans to work among the poor with Mother Teresa.

In a recent survey, people said they still don’t like her.

You know, I think the reason Robin Givens balked on asking

for Mike Tyson’s money

is that people were starting to refer to her as Robin Leach.

Well, the Tyson-Givens marriage is now officially on the rocks.

Surprise, surprise, surprise.

You didn’t have to be Dr. Ouija to see that coming.

But what shocks me is the populace’s reaction

to the rift. I mean, come on.

They’re two young people who gave it an honest shot.

It didn’t work out.

Hey, kids, join the club.

What’s the divorce rate in this country, 108%?

There are marriages in America

that don’t last as long as the Tyson-Spinks fight.

Let’s quit passing judgment here,

and let Kramer and Kramer figure it out for themselves.

Besides, if we keep leaning on Robin like this,

I’m afraid it’ll start affecting her work on Head of the Class,

and I wouldn’t want that to happen.

Now here with a counterpoint is me.

Hey, Captain Hairdo, wake up.

Robin Givens, and Robin taketh away.

Okay, babe? This chick’s bad news.

She and her mother had a one-year plan.

Get in, get the champ’s cash, and get out.

Nobody gets hurt.

Oh, yeah, Princess Gold Digger?

Nobody except the lithium teddy bear, Mike Tyson.

Wake up, ice queen. It’s Mike, not Michael, okay?

What are we, Edwin Newman here?

And what’s with this mother-in-law, Ruth Rope-A-Dope?

There’s a scary dame, huh?

Yeah.

Yeah, I didn’t see that much of my mother when she was carrying me.

Givens says, "We’re a package."

Yeah? Listen closely. You can hear it ticking.

She says Tyson threw tantrums. Big deal.

Give this siren ten minutes alone with Mr. Rogers,

I’ll bet you old Fred starts ripping the heads off

all his puppets.

Now she says...

Okay, Pepe.

Now she says... easy, Cha-Cha.

Now she says she doesn’t want his money.

Hey, baby, that’s not good enough.

The way I see it, he should sue her

for half the earnings on that high school show she does.

Yeah, now that we’re on the subject,

I’m still steamed at ABC for cutting Welcome Back, Kotter

around a decade ago.

My friend Ronnie Palillo still isn’t getting work,

and to me, he was, and always will be,

the definitive Horshack, okay?

That’s the comment, and I am outta here.

Easy, Cha-Cha.

Okay.

God, I despise him.

But there’s just something about him, huh?

The last piece of American real estate

was purchased yesterday by Akito Takamito,

a 30-year-old Japanese janitor.

When informed that the deal had been closed,

Takamito cried, "We win, we win!"

President Reagan’s eyes

got even a little spookier than usual this week.

Ernest Borgnine planted a big, wet one

on Buddy Hackett’s cheek this week,

and grossed out the entire universe.

And the Reverend Al Sharpton

was in the news again this week,

but not on my time, pal.

Hey, guess what, folks? That’s the news.

Tonight...

And God be with you.

Jim, hear me out. He’s only brain dead.

No, no, no, just listen.

You can hook him up to one of those thing-a-majigs.

I’m no scientist or anything,

but we’ll keep his vital organs alive.

Limit his personal appearances.

Michael, face the facts.

Dan Quayle is president.

( INTERCOM BUZZES )

Yes?

WOMAN: Mr. Baker, Vice-President Quayle is here.

Jim, Mike.

I just got off the phone with my dad.

He, uh, said the president is sick.

He’s not sick anymore... Mr. President.

Oh, great. Great.

Because let’s face it. I’m not ready to be president here, all right?

Come on. Whew!

I mean, maybe eight years from now.

That’s another thing, but tell you the truth,

the whole idea of it just gives me the serious heebie-jeebies.

- Sir... - Whoo!

Sir, the president is dead.

You are the president.

Wait, wait.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.

Whoa, whoa, whoa!

Let’s just back up that thought.

Hold on there, mister. What was that again?

President Bush is gone.

You, Dan Quayle, are the president.

( WHISTLES )

Whoo!

Whoa, boy.

( WHISTLES )

( WHISTLING CONTINUES )

Whoo!

( WHISTLES )

( WHISTLES )

Tomorrow night on Dan Quayle President.

Oh. Oh, my God.

Next on...

- Hi, Helene. - Hi, Ed.

- Hey, Big Russ. - Hey, Ed.

What can I do for you, Ed?

Ooh, you can do a lot for me, Helene.

But you better just take my order.

Behave yourself. You’re a married man.

Yeah, but I ain’t dead yet.

Just some coffee for now.

You want sugar, Russ?

I’d love some sugar from you, Helene,

but I thought you were married.

- ( LAUGHTER ) - He got you, Helene.

He sure did.

( PANTS RUBBING TOGETHER WITH WHOOSHING SOUND )

( WHOOSHING SOUND CONTINUES )

Oh, hi, Frank.

You keep comin’ in here like this,

my husband’s gonna think I got a boyfriend.

Hello, Helene. I wouldn’t have to keep coming here so often

if you’d keep this place up to health department standards.

I’ll keep my standards up, you keep your pants on.

Oh, she got you, Frank.

( PANTS WHOOSHING )

I’m just gonna go in the back,

and recheck the temperature in your freezer.

Better cool yourself down while you’re in there.

You got him, Helene.

- Hey, one more refill, honey. - ( WHOOSHING )

Give me a refill, too.

Your cooler’s fine, Helene, but I’m afraid

the dishwater’s not sufficiently hot.

Helene, why don’t you take him in the back

and show him how to turn on the heat, huh?

Oh, he’d like that, wouldn’t he?

( RAPID WHOOSHING )

I don’t think your grill has been rubbed down in a long time.

I’ll tell you something else

that ain’t been rubbed down lately.

You got him, Helene.

You better just keep your mind on business, Frank.

( WHOOSHING )

Well, I think I’ll just sit down and have a Coke

while I fill out my report.

Yeah, and enjoy the scenery.

Don’t forget you’re a married man, eh, Frank?

Yeah, I might be married, but I’m not dead yet.

It sure ain’t the coffee that keeps me comin’ back.

I had an incredible time. I hope you did.

Mark Knopfler, Randy Newman, and this entire cast.

They’re absolutely the best!

Have a great night. Enjoy yourselves.