Original subtitles

between the two of us girls you know i love you more

Will, you'll catch the next one.

Listen, Jim.

Doris is out of town this week. What do you say you and I have a boys' night

out? Catch a movie, maybe do a little Christmas shopping. Are you with me?

Thank you for the kind offer, but I was planning to spend a nice quiet evening

at home. Oh, come on, Jim. You must be lonely. Look, no one likes to eat alone

or shop alone.

Last Christmas, I had to rely on the Cuisinart demonstration lady to help me

pick out a scarf for my mother.

Please come with me, all right?

I really don't think you should be alone tonight. No.

Forgive me, Frank, but I just want to go home.

Okay, fine. Jim!

I was just coming to get you.

Miles gave my story two thumbs up, so I'm free tonight.

Since Doris is out of town, how about I make you a nice little quick meal? Oh,

many thanks, but no need. Before Doris left for Florida, she had all my meals

frozen and labeled and put in little plastic tubs.

She even put in a surprise spice for each one.

Last night was cilantro.

Are you sure, Jim?

I'll make black and red fish, scalloped potatoes, little tiny pecan pies.

I'm afraid I'll have to pass.

I'll come.

Okay. But stop by and pick up the pizza on the way.

Is pepperoni okay?

Hey, Jim.

Tell you what. Since Doris is out of town, I'll pick you up around 8 and

go test drive the new Beamers.

635, 735,

835.

No, thank you, Miles. I have a quiet evening at home planned.

Okay, but if you change your mind, the 95 models have super V8 engines and dual

cupholders.

Bobby, shred this for me, will you? Who got this, Lugger? Oh, it's that sleazy

tabloid, the Tattler. Boy, you air one little story calling them the festering

cankerthor of journalism, and suddenly you're the bad guy.

Look at this.

A photograph of me taken after an eight -hour plane trip. Oh, this is

outrageous. What's that on your head?

My hair. Oh.

So, what are you up to tonight?

Now, Murphy, before you start, too, just because Doris is out of town doesn't

mean I need you to entertain me this evening.

I'm going to take advantage of my temporary bachelor and indulge in a few

forbidden pleasures.

I'm going to go home, change into my pajamas and those ratty little slippers

that Doris keeps throwing out when I keep pulling back out of the trash, and

heat up a cup of cocoa with whole milk and those little tiny marshmallows and

settle in to watch Doris's lead favorite movie, Ice Station Zebra.

Doris is out of town?

Murky Brown, and you must be... The Andersons.

Bee and Irv.

I'm your new secretary.

He's just sitting here.

Listen to the big shot.

Who drove you here?

You brought your husband.

He's retired.

But if I leave him home alone, he eats all the chocolates.

He's diabetic.

I am not diabetic.

Who told you I was diabetic?

Who told me? The doctor.

Yeah, well, he would say that.

That's how he makes his money.

Senator Tom Johnson called. Oh, thank you. It wasn't Tom Johnson. It was John

Thompson. And he's not a senator. He's a congressman.

Like you know the difference.

You haven't voted since 1948.

Yeah, well, after Truman, they've all been bums. He's the only one who has the

guts to drop the bomb.

I tell you what, why don't you two discuss this with personnel?

Again with the bomb.

Another job I lost just because you can't keep your mouth shut about the

Hey, Murphy, have you seen the tattler today?

Oh, God, don't tell me they've got me in there again.

They still have me holed up in that love shack with Tom Snyder. Will you throw

that rag away? I don't want to hear any more of their lies.

It's not about you, Murphy. It's about Jim.

Really? What are they saying?

Just get a load of this.

It's a classic.

Jim Dial's Wild Night. They're saying that after he left here last night, he

drunk, hired a hooker, and got arrested in the gambling raid.

At least now I know why I didn't want to go shopping with me.

Oh, please. They ran out of stuff to make up about me, so they moved on to

Jim, of all people. I mean, who was going to believe this stuff? Oh, God,

you guys seen this stuff about Jim and the Tattler?

We're dead.

Oh, Miles, calm down. They print this stuff about Murphy all the time.

But this is Jim.

Jim is our rock, our moral center.

FYI is like a Tootsie Pop.

Jim is our chewy center.

Only reversed if the center were hard and the outside were chewy.

Sure, it would make a lousy lollipop, but you know what I'm talking about.

Miles, come on. This is the Washington toddler.

But these pictures. Jim looking drunk with his arm around a strange woman. Oh,

they're all fakes. They've got all these pictures of Bob Packwood lying around.

They just stick different heads on them.

Really? You think?

Absolutely. Nobody believes this stuff. It's just bunk.

Morning, all.

Hey, look who's here. It's Wild Man. And Jim, tell me, how was your quiet night

last night? Yeah, how'd you cap off the evening, Jim? Knock over a convenience

store?

Well, you know what they say.

When the cat's away and the mouse gets drunk and goes looking for hookers.

Well, I gather from your witty insinuations that you've all read this

Tatler. Well, let me take this opportunity to say it's utter hogwash.

us about it. No kid like any of us believed those pictures were really you.

Oh, those pictures were me.

They're not Bob Hackliffe? No.

innocent evening and created something debauched and depraved.

What happened to going home alone last night? What happened to hot cocoa on

those tiny little marshmallows? Damn those tiny little marshmallows.

They're what got me into this mess. What the hell happened last night, Jim?

Well, it's quite simple, really.

I was arrested in a gambling raid at that cocktail lounge, which I was only

in the first place because I had to use the phone.

I'd been escorted there by that young woman who had come to my aid after I

twisted my ankle in those damn slippers I should have let Doris throw out years

ago. That was because my tires were slashed outside the convenience store,

phone was out of order where I'd gone to pick up those infernal marshmallows,

which I discovered I'd run out of when I sat down to watch Ice Station Zebra

with my hot cocoa.

As I said before, quite simple. Now, if you'll forgive me, I believe that's all

there is to be said about this matter.

See? There's a logical explanation for everything.

That makes sense.

Yeah. Couldn't be clearer.

Yep. Jim was with a hooker because of tiny little marshmallows.

No,

I have no comment on Jim Dial. I have absolutely nothing to say on the Jim

situation. Corky, the Times wants to talk to you. I've got news for you.

I've got a call for you. Forget it. I don't want to take any more calls about

Jim. It's the Pentagon.

Well, thank you for... What?

What? No, Jim can't book you entertainment for next year's tailhook

I told you, Miles, I'm not going to dignify this with a response. Come on,

just a little press release. One or two sentences max. I don't see the point.

It's just that while everyone here understands the whole marshmallow hooker

gambling connection, the general public seems to be having a little problem with

it. That's their problem.

I've been in the public eye for 38 years, and with the exception of that...

Unfortunate decision to poke my head out of that door on a laugh -in. I've never

had to explain my actions to anyone.

And I don't see why I should start now.

I think I should warn you, I just got a tip from accounting.

Apparently there's an advance man from Geraldo in the building. Oh, dear Lord.

Jim, do you have any tattoos?

No, Jim.

Let's go to Phil's and have lunch and get the hell out of here. Well, it is a

little on the early side for lunch, but who has to know?

It's Mr. Lansing. We were just on our way not to lunch. So, what brings you

here? What, I need a reason to drop by?

Of course not. Drop by any time.

You think I have time to drop by without a reason?

Think I'm like you, gallivanting out to lunch? It's ten minutes to noon.

Folks, I like to talk to Jim alone.

Well, if it's all right with you, Stan, I'd like to be here for this. And I'd

like to be at Pebble Beach playing golf with Cindy Crawford as my caddy.

But life is full of disappointments.

Like my idiot son with the nose ring.

That's a different story.

You're on your own, Jim.

I said I'd like to talk to Jim alone.

You heard the man!

Let's go! Let's go!

All clear, Mr. Lutzer.

Jim!

word alone didn't you understand?

I'll take the stairs.

Thank you.

Now, where was I?

I believe it was Jim, Jim, Jim.

Oh, right.

Jim, Jim, Jim.

What can I say? The senior anchor on my most respected news show involved

with gambling and prostitutes. Now, listen, Stan, I can explain everything.

love it!

Sure, another time, another place, I would be enforcing your morality clause.

But my network is in third place, teetering on fourth. So when your little

adventure started bringing in young viewers in droves, I was a happy man.

You're a god to them.

A god?

Yeah, like Zeus or Luke Perry.

Jim, I have to tell you, the way you're playing this one out is a thing of

beauty. No, Stan, Stan, I feel I must say that I'm not playing anything. I

simply refuse to dignify these absurd allegations with a response.

Good. That's good. Keep a low profile.

Let them speculate.

People today love scandal.

In the past, I had to rely on Murphy for that.

But this year, Christmas came early, and you went crazy!

Bless you, Jim Dyer. No, no, wait, wait, wait.

Just a second there, Stan. I feel compelled to clear the air now. You

to explain.

I don't want to know. No, no, but Stan, you see... I judge no man.

We all have our little idiosyncrasies. I won't trouble you with mine. Although

judging from that wild night of yours, I think we have a few areas that overlap.

that has left admirers, friends, and colleagues scratching their heads in

over the mysterious antics of the once irreproachable network anchor.

Using official reports and current edition's own crack investigative team,

pieced together the true story of Jim Dial's wild night.

After a night of heavy boozing, Mr. Dial, lead anchor of FYI, whose wife was

of town, was seen weaving down the street looking for a prostitute. Hey,

I'm Jim Dial.

Lead anchor of FYI.

My wife's out of town, and I'm looking for a prostitute.

Next stop for our Randy Roving. All right, that's enough.

Show's over.

Very easy there, kid.

You said it hasn't been the same since you threw that ketchup bottle at it.

You're Neil Diamond unplugged.

Oh,

grow up.

Can you believe this?

I knew Jim the way we do. All of these ridiculous stories would just dry up.

know what I mean?

Uh -huh.

Wait a minute. What are you saying? This is Jim.

Yeah, Jim.

Oh, no.

Don't tell me you guys are buying this crap.

No. I mean, obviously, most of this stuff is far -fetched, but I don't know.

did happen to be talking to a source of mine who said that...

Well, some of this stuff could be true.

What? I'm not saying I believe it. I'm just saying it could be possible.

I mean, how well do we know Jim?

Sure, we work with him every day. We socialize occasionally.

But then he goes home and he has this whole other life we know nothing about.

Like, isn't it weird that we only found out two years ago that he's colorblind?

Ooh. All right, what about the fact that he has been in a barbershop quartet for

the past 12 years and hasn't invited us?

to a concert once.

Ooh, there's your scandal, Frank. Run with that one.

You know what's weird?

One time, I went by his office, and he was on the phone, and he said, I have to

go. Then he hung up really quickly.

Really quickly.

Think that's anything?

Whenever we pick him up on carpool day, he's always standing at the curb, like

there's something in his house he doesn't want us to see.

His Christmas party last year, there was one door, and it was locked.

All the time.

What do you think that's all about?

You know what?

I know what's down there.

At the bottom of an old, rickety staircase is a long, dark hallway that

nothing. Will you get a hold of yourself?

Very witty. Very witty indeed.

Hey, Jim. Hey, how'd it go with Lansing, Jim? Oh, the men's a vulgarian.

Not only does he love all this publicity, he actually believes it.

something?

Yes, can you imagine that? Somebody not believing you?

Corky, Miles, Frank, can you imagine that?

What's going on here?

Well, nothing really.

It's just that apparently there are a few nagging questions about your

whereabouts last night that your friends would like you to shed some light on.

Isn't that right, guys? Oh, really? Don't you ask?

Look, Jim, I wouldn't describe them as nagging questions. They're just...

certain discrepancies about your night. And wouldn't you say, guys... That's

all. I think I've provided a reasonable explanation for what went on that

evening. Yes, yes, you have, Jim. Everything you've said makes perfect

Thank you. It's just when you run it all together.

Right.

Dear Lord, you don't believe me.

My closest friends don't believe me. I am stunned.

You people should just be ashamed of yourselves.

I want you to know, Jim, whatever your story is, I believe you.

Story? What do you mean, my story?

Well, you know, your story, your version of the facts. Oh, so now it's my

version. No, no, you misunderstood. No, no, no, I think I understood quite well.

You're implying that my explanation of that evening's events is a cover. No,

no, I'm not implying that.

Fabrication. No, Jim. An alibi, if you will. Jim, you are twisting my words.

right. I want you to look me straight in the eye and tell me.

You believe every single word is true.

Every word? Oh.

Jim,

we're really sorry. No, no, no. I don't want your apologies.

The fact of the matter is, there is something about me that's gone unsaid.

Something I've not been completely opened about.

And it's time I shared my secret with the world.

I can think of no better place to do it than my commentary. So tomorrow night on

FYI, you will all hear the uncensored, unvarnished truth about

the secret life of Jim Dye.

My money's on naked badminton.

Thank you, Corky, for those helpful tips on holiday food preparation.

Who knew yams could kill?

I'll be back after this message with my commentary.

And we're clear.

You know, Jim, you don't have to do this. It's not too late to reconsider.

Murphy's right. There's no need to subject yourself to this. Or the show.

spastic holes. You're wasting your breath. My mind's made up. I'm ready to

the truth. There's no need, Jim. Don't people get away from him?

Mr. Lansing, thank God you're here. I have been pleading with him not to do

this. Good, Silverberg, good, because otherwise we might actually get that 42

share that I'm so frightened of.

Get out of here.

Okay, sir, I'll just be quick. Get out! All right, 30 seconds to air, people.

Jim, let's talk.

When I first heard you were throwing out the low -profile strategy in order to

go public like this, I was very disappointed.

But then I got your new angle. You're a master manipulator. You're like Madonna

that way.

Did you hear? She wants to meet you.

I give you places, everybody.

Now remember, no matter what happens, we're behind you 100%. Thank you, Stan.

That means a lot. Unless a revolted American public turns against you. In

case, I'm going to have to dump you like a load of hot bricks.

I need my neck pillow.

Silverberg, where are you hiding?

Here we go. In 5, 4, 3, 2...

Good evening and welcome back to...

Recent events have convinced me of the need to address my much -publicized wild

night. It is time, as they say, for the moment of truth.

Let me first say that I'm from the old school.

Someone who still remembers when silence was golden, mum was the word, and those

with skeletons kept them in the closet where they belonged.

But those days are over.

Thus, I present you the truth about my twisted, abnormal life.

Though I had hoped to avoid this, I must confess, I have nothing to confess.

I am as normal as one can possibly be.

Now, judging by today's tell -all books, that makes me our nation's number one

pervert.

In a world without stability, I remain the same solid citizen I always was.

since no one else will say it, good for me.

I come from a functional family.

I had a perfectly delightful childhood.

Loved my mother, adored my father, and good for me.

Do something freakish.

I've been married to the same woman for 34 years.

You know how many women I've made love to in my life?

One. And good for me.

The strongest drug I take is aspirin. My weight has never fluctuated more than

three pounds since I started this job 19 years ago.

Occasionally, I have a dry martini cocktail, but I always stop at one.

One martini, one job, one wife. All right, fine.

You can call me stiff and boring.

I once considered it an insult, but I'll wear that starched mantle proudly.

And good for me.

This has been another edition of FYI. Thank you and good night.

And we're clear.

That's a wrap.

Oh, what the hell was that?

One, one, one.

Wait, don't talk. I can't hear you. I'm being deafened by the sound of

television sets all over America switching to another network.

Click, click. We're going to be fourth.

Silverberg, I want you in my office tomorrow morning at 7 a .m. sharp. I'll

there around 10.

Wait, Mr. Lindsay. We've got other scandals.

Frank's lactose intolerant. Maybe we can do something with that.

Boy, do I feel silly.

Ditto.

I'll never assume your life is exciting again.

You sure did.

I'd like to see them make a movie of the week out of that confession.

I think I know who could play the title role.

Block of Wood.

Hey, Jim, it's your wife.

Oh, my.

I hope I'm not in trouble.

Hello, Doris. Now, please, don't be too angry about my discussing our marital

relations on national television. I felt I had no choice.

Oh, really?

Well...

Yes. Goodbye.

Apparently, Doris has never seen my eyes so ablaze with defiance.

She's catching a late plane back from Florida, so if you'll excuse me, I'm off

for a rendezvous with a sultry redhead who happens to be my wife.

And good for me.

Are you tired of doing stuff? Yes!

Then watch Easy TV Summer. It's four effortless hours of your favorite show

followed by four equally effortless hours of your other favorite show. Let

make it sound easy. Easy TV Summer starts tomorrow at 10 only on Nick at