Original subtitles

Corky, I need the fact machine. I have to send something now.

It's really important, so you can do that later.

I have to do this immediately. You don't have to do that now.

bully me, Frank.

There's an entire sixth grade home economics class in Albuquerque, New

anxiously awaiting a transcript of my piece on White House table settings.

I think you're just going to have to wait your turn. I have an Air Force

engineer in California waiting to verify structural defects in a new fighter

jet. Oh, and I suppose you think that's important.

Well, Frank, without this information, 17 little girls in Miss Holby's class

won't know where to put a fish fork.

Not too easy.

Oh, God.

Come on, guys, I've got legal in New York waiting to clear my copy. I need

facts. And what are we doing, huddling around it for warmth? Take a number.

Everyone, may I have your attention, please?

There's a very important piece of business I need to discuss with you.

It has to do with the fax machine.

Yeah, we need another one.

I don't think so.

Not after checking over these bills.

Seems as though some of us like to use this expensive piece of office equipment

for our own personal use.

For instance.

On one given day, Marv's wife faxed him a grocery list.

Murphy set up a basketball pool in 10 states.

And everyone faxed the new Dan Quayle joke to Letterman.

This is a serious piece of office equipment. It is not, repeat, not a toy.

fine. The Xerox is not a toy. The paper shredder is not a toy. The mail chute is

not a toy. What are we supposed to do for fun around here anyway?

Well, either one would be happy if you took the blasted thing back where it

from. What happened to the days when a reporter had to actually leave the

building to get his story?

He didn't need one of these.

He just grabbed a good old -fashioned Dixon Ticonderoga, and as far as I'm

concerned, it's still the best.

Cheap, reliable, and you don't electrocute yourself if you take it into

bathtub.

All right, I'll say it one more time.

The fax machine is for appropriate office use only.

Is that understood?

Yes, sir.

Finally. Oh, for... Now what?

Miles, I'm a little confused about something.

Are love letters considered appropriate office use?

Didn't I just finish telling everyone that I don't want to... Because you just

got one from a secret admirer.

Dear Miles, you don't know me. We work in the same building and I often see

you in the elevator.

I've never done anything like this before, but I wasn't sure how else to

approach you.

I think you're very attractive. I'd like to know all

about you and see if perhaps we're soulmates.

This isn't the place for this.

If you're interested, please fax me back. Sincerely, Miss X.

Miles got a girlfriend.

I get it.

Very funny, Murphy. A fake letter. Sorry to disappoint, but I didn't believe it

for a second.

Miles, it's definitely not me. Look at it. There's nothing in there that says

you should meet her up on the roof wearing only red jockey shorts and high

What kind of person would have to meet someone this way?

Well, maybe she's the woman you've waited your whole life for.

But the only way you can answer is by fax, and I guess that wouldn't be

appropriate office use. Yeah, I guess she's just going to end up thinking

not interested.

I'm not.

This is just the kind of reaction you come to expect when you have a highly

visible job like mine.

Besides, I hardly think I need to respond to something like this to meet

Now, what is this? A paid holiday?

This doesn't work.

Heartbreaker.

Just a small technical glitch. I've got it under control.

Here, let me see if I can... No, no, really, it's okay.

Hey, guys, what's going on?

Miles broke the fax machine. I did not. It's just this letter I'm sending to a

man, Mr.

Sidney Jones from Boise, Idaho. Good Lord, you can hear that thing all the

down the hall. Is this what we have to look forward to in the 21st century?

You just have to know how to handle these things.

I've always been mechanically adept.

Last year, I made a spice rack for Doris.

Okay, thanks. Well...

Go on about your business.

All of you.

Sure. By the way, Miles, did you remember to tell Ms. X that you qualify

good driver discount?

What do you mean?

This letter.

Reading upside down is just one of my many skills.

I'm not a lucky man.

So, Miles!

Well, this is an original approach. You're sending her your resume?

Hey, give me a break, will you guys? I've never had to impress a woman in 50

words or less.

It's very simple, Miles. A woman always appreciates security.

Tell her you have a diverse fight portfolio, a decent pension, and a money

market fund.

That way, when you drop dead at 50 because you've worked like a dog your

life, she'll know she'll be well provided for.

A wealthy, attractive, middle -aged woman whose easy picking is for any

scrapping young pool boy who saunters in looking for a meal ticket.

Don't listen to him, Miles. Women wanted sensitive men.

Confess to a few vulnerabilities. If you don't have any, make them up. I usually

say that I cried when I read Anna Karenina and that the best part of sex

holding each other afterwards.

This is a frightening glimpse into the male brain.

Listen to a woman, Miles. The most important part is romance.

Tell her you're still an old -fashioned guy who still thinks expensive jewelry

is an appropriate gift.

Miles, forget them. If you want to get anywhere with this woman, take lessons

from a problem.

Okay.

Dear Miss X. My dear Miss X. No, my dearest Miss X.

My heart, my soul.

May I compliment you on your courage in taking the first step? See, she's

probably worried that you think she's too aggressive, so you have to allay

fear right off. I say get right to the point. I drive a brand new BMW and wear

an unusually large shoe.

Save it. I'm already on the third sentence. I went in a witty slash

direction. Oh, another one of your Jesse Helms jokes? That'll really get Miles

some action.

I appreciate

what you're trying to do for me, but I think this was a mistake.

Nothing is going to come from this anyway.

Not how people start a relationship.

Well, hey, Miles, at least have a look at what I've written. It's really good.

No, no, no. If you don't mind, I'd just like to forget about the whole thing.

Poor Miles.

Hey, it's his life. We've wasted enough time. Let's get back to work.

Uh,

thanks, Rick. I think that's for me.

Nope, I don't think so, unless you looked particularly cute yesterday

of the men's room cleaning your glasses.

This must be from Miles' secret admirer, the little tiger rotor bag.

No, Frank, it is for me. I wrote her back and signed my old name. What?

Oh, Murphy, this time you've gone and done it. You better go pick up some

25 sunblock. You're going straight to hell.

I had to do it, Frank. It was a challenge just sitting there waiting to

You know how I am about a challenge. Let me ask you something, Murphy. Are you

planning on telling him about this or is he just going to find out at the

wedding?

Oh, am I good or what? This woman is hooked.

Murphy, just screed your piece on the IRS.

I think we should all use fake names on the credits this week.

Let's go into my office and talk about that, Miles, and other things.

What other things?

Why are you being so nice to me? Frank, would you like to join us? Bye.

So, Miles, have a seat.

Make yourself comfortable.

No, thank you. I'll stand.

Okay. Miles, do you remember that secret admirer who wrote to you last week?

Well, there's been an interesting development in that area.

Let me just preface this first by saying that I've done something.

Something people don't usually expect of Murphy Brown.

A warm and caring kind of gesture. A reaching out, sort of giving type of

Somewhere between a fairy godmother and faintliness, although I don't want to...

What have you done, Murphy?

I wrote Ms. X back and signed your name.

What? You wrote her a letter?

Well, not a letter.

Sixteen letters.

And these are copies of the ones you sent.

I can't believe this!

This is an invasion of privacy!

A destruction of trust!

A moral and legal injustice!

And just a little sick!

Frankly, Miles, I'm surprised at your reaction. I thought I was doing you a

favor. Look at this!

She said I'm the best man she ever had facts with.

Look at Tuesday's letter, the third paragraph.

Hey, I'm funny.

I'm philosophical, too.

People who are afraid to rock the boat have no business being in the boat in

first place.

I like me.

What can I say, Miles? You have a way with words.

She's good, too.

Accidents are a fool's explanation for destiny.

Deep. Very deep.

Oh, what did I say when she asked which three people would I want to be stranded

on a desert island with?

Albert Einstein, William Shakespeare, and Sarah Lee, because if you're stuck

a desert island with a couple of dead guys, you might as well enjoy yourself.

A sense of humor.

That's very important to me.

So, when are you getting ready for the next letter?

Well, here's the thing. You're past the pen pal stage.

This one just arrived.

She wants to meet you tonight at Phil's.

Oh, boy.

This is all happening so fast. I don't know if I'm ready for this.

You better be ready. She's smart and funny and exciting, and I've worked too

hard for you to let her get away.

You're right.

I have to meet her.

After all, I'm the kind of guy who chooses to embrace life and all its

experiences.

Murphy, thank God you're home!

Miles, what are you doing here? You're supposed to be meeting Ms. X at Phil's

20 minutes. I know. I was all ready to go, and then I looked in the mirror.

And Miles Silverberg looked back. A boring guy in boring blue blazer and

slacks. You gotta help me, Murphy. You know what Ms. X is expecting.

What do you think?

Am I a sweater guy?

I don't know.

Come on, I've changed clothes four times. My fingers are spasmed from doing

buttons. Okay, okay, you're a sweater guy.

V -neck, cardigan, crew neck. Crew neck.

Face -ups, loafers, running shoes.

Running shoes.

Okay, pants.

Khakis, corduroy, jeans.

Jeans. You're not thinking about this. You're just picking the last thing.

the loafers. The loafers? Good. Do you have any without tassels? Oh, God!

If you plan on moving in, I'd better warn you. She can't cook, won't clean,

I think her last boyfriend's buried under the porch.

Alden Miles has a date and he's embarrassing his gender.

A date?

All right.

All right, all we need here is the right look.

Something that says, I am your man.

Let's try this.

Let's button that back up.

At least she knows what I look like. I don't even know that.

You mean you've never met the lady?

A courageous young lad.

She could be, how should I say it, a dog.

Or nuts.

She could carry a knife. They frequently do. I remember once in Florida.

Captain, could you get back to work before your paint settles?

Don't worry, you're going to do fine.

One last bit of advice.

If she invites you back over to her place, make note of the nearest exit and

never take off your shoes.

Why am I worrying about this? It doesn't matter what I wear.

I can't live up to those letters.

Quiz me, Murphy.

Art Deco. Yes.

Bonsai trees. No.

I forgot where I stayed on Cajun cooking.

Miserable. I think this is a good time to remind you that Miss X was attracted

to you long before she got any of my letters. And if she's smart, she should

worried right now whether she's good enough for you. Not your letters, but

Being ridiculous, aren't I?

I mean, I'm a Harvard graduate.

I'm running a network news magazine.

I finished the Capitol Hill 10K.

Guys like me are hard to find.

You're right, Murphy.

I've got nothing to worry about. There you go, Miles. You're going to have a

terrific evening. Trust me on this.

I just wish you hadn't told her I sang backup on We Are the World.

Hi, Miles.

Oh, God, what are you doing here? I'm self -conscious enough. Go away. Go.

Oh, well, nice attitude after I drive all this way to save you from a shoe

mistake. Here.

These are better.

I guess I'm still a little nervous.

Oh, hey. Hey.

You're right. These are much better.

Okay, then. Murphy, thanks for stopping by. Drive carefully.

I want to watch Miles.

Oh, gee.

I won't say anything. I'll sit where he won't even see me. Come on. You wouldn't

be here if it weren't for me. Okay, okay. You can stay.

Hey there, Murphy.

Miles. So, tonight's the big date.

Great. Is it in the post now?

Oh. Don't take it so seriously, Miles.

It's not like your whole future's resting on this one day.

Although, this woman may be the one.

What the hell are you doing, Murphy?

I'm just trying to give the guy some encouragement. It's not like he's any

at this.

Remember when he came in here with that Jackie woman issue?

Oh!

I can't take this anymore.

You're on your own, Miles.

But let me just say, you did the right thing deciding to meet her here.

If you're looking for romance, Phil's is definitely the place to find it.

Hey, Phil!

The toilet's backed up again!

Coming!

Oh, God!

I'll bet that's her! I know that's her! Get real, Miles. You're dreaming.

Hello, Miles. I'm Madeline Stilwell, Miss X.

Hi. I'm Smiles Liverburn.

Miles Silberberg.

Hi, I'm Murphy Brown. Nice to meet you.

And Murphy was just about to not be here.

Well, see you later, Murphy.

Drive carefully.

Okay, okay, I'm going.

Why don't we sit down?

You know, usually first dates are so awkward.

But I feel like I know you already.

Do you know what I mean?

Yeah.

So, uh, we work in the same building.

Yeah.

I work in the claims department for Blue Cross.

Ah, that's very interesting.

Not really. I just listen to people whine about their health problems all

Have you ever been divorced?

No. Have you?

I like your hair.

Very much.

What's that supposed to mean?

Nothing. It's a compliment. You're very pretty.

I hate being pretty.

Guys are afraid to approach you. You end up staying home alone at night, eating

junk food and worrying about all that ozone layer stuff.

The world's a disgusting mess.

Why bother living?

Would you like to see a menu?

Look, I don't mean to be rude, but could you sit still? It's very annoying.

Sad. Down the street, lots of empty boots. Knock yourself out.

Gee, I never knew this place had a bouncer.

Well, now you know.

My fault. I mistook this for a civilized planet.

Hey, accidents happen.

No, accidents are a fool's explanation for destiny.

Where did you hear that?

I didn't hear it anywhere. It's mine.

If you want to use it, you'll have to pay me a royalty.

Now, would you mind?

You know what just occurred to me?

People who are afraid to rock the boat have no business being in the boat in

first place.

I read someplace that chocolate is proof of God's love -hate attitude toward

mankind.

When I die, I want to be buried at sea off the Martha's Vineyard ferry.

Ever wonder who you might want to be stranded on a desert island with?

Albert Einstein, William Shakespeare, and Farrah Lee.

Because if you're stuck on a desert island with a couple of dead guys, you

as well enjoy yourself.

No, you didn't mention in your letters about your hammertoe problem.

you, you're nothing like your letters.

Yes, I am.

Why wouldn't I be?

How about that Wolfgang Mozart?

I expected you to be more assertive.

But maybe that's good, though. To tell you the truth, I didn't get most of what

you were talking about anyway.

You know, if we're going to make this work, I need you to be more nurturing.

you do that?

I don't know.

Most men can't. My last boyfriend was like that. Very cold, dispassionate,

actually. You didn't say how intimate you expect to get on the first date.

No, come on, you didn't. Yes, I did, Ben.

Well, why didn't you put that in one of your letters? Well, because I didn't

think it was appropriate for Miles to have been in a steam bath with Phyllis

Schlafly in the first place. They weren't my letters, remember?

Oh, right, right.

But I have to tell you, I am so relieved to find out it isn't someone named

Miles Silverberg I was so attracted to.

I know exactly what you mean.

You know, she fought me every step of the way.

Constantly had doubts.

Oh boy, they're going to be perfect for each other.

How would you like to go somewhere for a dinner of pancakes and bacon?

You know, those thin kind of pancakes that are brown at the edges.

Then go for a drive with the top down to Chesapeake Bay.

To a little club where they play all the oldies and dance till we drop.

Then go home and sit by the fire and watch a tape of Fellini's The White

You read my mind.

Should we tell them?

What, and ruin their date?