Original subtitles

Feeling better now that we're through.

Feeling better cause I'm over you.

I've learned my lesson and left the scar.

And now...

It's your son, isn't it? Those blazing deep -set eyes, that fine, aquiline

He's the spinning image of you, sir.

He's not my son, Silverbird. Of course not, sir. He should be so lucky.

I want you all to meet my nephew. Stand up straight.

Andrew J.

Lansing III.

Say hello to all the nice people, Andrew.

Hello.

Well,

enough chit -chat.

Andrew, I want... Why don't you do me a favor? Why don't you go to the men's

room and fetch me some tissues?

One or two ply, sir.

Any ply. Just go.

So, uh, met my nephew. He's really something, isn't he? Oh, sir, he is

young man.

He's an idiot, Fontana.

A bad seed, a plug nickel.

But I promised my dear departed sister that I would look after him when she was

gone. Oh, Andrew's mother's dad?

What dead? She departed. She left home. She ran away.

The kid drove her crazy.

But I couldn't abandon him. I mean, you take one look at his odd -shaped head.

I thought it was his haircut, but it's his head.

I mean, your heart melts when you look at him.

I know what you mean, sir. It's like a pea or a small almond.

In any case...

I have attempted over the years to find a place for Andrew in every one of our

departments. But let's just say his blood refuses to bloom.

So I was wondering possibly that you could help my almond -headed nephew get

some type of job here at FYI.

Gee, um, Mr.

Lansing, we would love to take Andrew on, but gosh darn it, we just don't have

any openings at the moment. Oh,

Melba,

you wouldn't happen to know who rigged my phone so that it gave me a shock when

I picked it up, would you?

Your phone? A shock?

I, uh...

We pull off a practical joke together.

Why don't you collect your things, get in the elevator, go down to personnel,

and tell them you've been...

Great to understand that you're in need of a new secretary because I happen to

know a perfect candidate for the job. Well, Stan, it's good to know the

is finally taking an interest in my happiness. So who is this crackerjack

got lined up for me?

Meet your new secretary, Murphy.

My nephew.

Stand like a person.

Andrew J. Lansing III.

Say hello to the nice lady, Andrew. Hello.

What are you doing with stupid tissues?

You're a secretary.

Thank you, Murphy. You've been a big help.

Um, Stan, isn't it such a good idea? I mean, I've been known to be kind of hard

on secretaries, and you never know how this is going to turn out. But trust me,

this is a perfect match.

He's fantastic. He's great.

Were you the one who loved to fly kites? When I was eight, sir. He loves kites.

You love kites. Kites in common. You'll get along great.

Thank you again, Murphy.

Andrew, if you screw this one up, you're dead in my eyes.

Yes, I understand.

If I may, Miss Brown, I will make you a solemn vow. In fact, I will swear to you

on my mother's grave. Andrew, your mother's not dead.

Yes, she is. Uncle Stan told me.

Anyway, you have my assurance I will be better than any secretary you have ever

had.

Andrew, you might want to aim a little higher.

Okay, here's your first assignment.

File this for me.

Nothing would give me greater pleasure, Miss Brown.

Oh, God.

You know who that so -called nephew is, don't you? He's a spy, and he's going to

report everything we say and do back to Mr. Lansing.

Oh, Miles, really? A spy?

Yeah, even if he is, why should we worry? We've got nothing to hide.

Hey, Frank, thanks for the tip about the phone in the Xerox room. Boy, I totally

see how you can rack up $20 ,000 worth of long -distance calls.

The P -head has to go.

I don't know. When exactly did FYI become the network's employment agency?

First, it was Dan Rather's bumbling aunt, Sissy, and Connie Chung's oafish

nephew, Wilbur.

Yes, and who could forget Andy Rooney's son, Chip?

Someone that young could have that much to complain about as Bianca.

Oh, you guys relax.

By the time I finish with him, he's going to be begging his uncle to fire

Mission accomplished, Miss Brown. What may I do for you next?

Okay, Andrew, here's what I need.

I want you to watch all 18 years of FYI and write down the number of times I use

the word the.

Then I'd like you to go to the Library of Congress and write down any

to the names Joan, Smith, or Johnson indicating date of birth, place of

and any biographical information.

Consider it done, Ms. Brown.

Ooh, you're bad.

Really, Murph? Why don't you just have him hide out in your garbage can and let

him have a crack at your raccoon problem?

Right.

Oh,

Andrew.

For a second.

Murphy, look.

Wow, this is the first time I've had to wake somebody up to fire them.

Oh, Andrew.

Oh, good morning, Miss Brown. I can explain.

Oh, Andrew, I'm sorry, but sleeping on the job, unless done by me, is simply

unforgivable. I'm afraid I'm going to have to fire you. I understand, Miss

Brown. Well, here are the first three boxes of the material you requested from

the Library of Congress. You'll find the rest in your office.

What?

Oh, and I reviewed all the FYI tapes, and you've used the words, uh, 42 ,356

times.

And as far as your raccoon problem, I don't think they'll be bothering you

anymore.

I'm not going to sugarcoat this. I am very disappointed.

But I'll overlook your transgression, Major, though it wasn't. It was, Major.

But I'll be all over your sorry butt. As well you should be, Miss Brown. As well

you should be. Oh, I almost forgot. I called the computer department last

and told them you would be unable to attend their class.

That was you? How'd you get me out of it? It wasn't very difficult, given your

recent bout with carpal tunnel syndrome.

Not bad, Andrew. Not bad at all.

Merely doing my job, Miss Brown.

Oh, Bobby, could you call your contact at the Russian embassy and see when I

talk to him? Okay, I'll get to it.

Excuse me.

You'll get to it?

The lady asked you to make a call. Move. Move.

Move!

Andrew, he doesn't have to do it this second. Not that it would have been so

horrible if he had.

That didn't go so badly. You wouldn't even know you'd fired him. I didn't fire

him. What?

I didn't fire him.

In fact, I can't believe I'm saying this, but I think Andrew might even be

one.

You think Andrew is the one?

Have you taken leave of your faculties? Is there better than that much?

bitter. You don't know him like I do. He's good to me. He makes me happy.

I'm beginning to think you don't want to see me happy.

Here we are, Miss Brown.

I got these especially for you, fresh out of the oven.

Thank you, Andrew.

Those do look pretty good.

Let's get to work.

Stan Lansing, our beloved network president, doesn't line our pockets with

so we can stand around kibitzing.

Now, where are we on stories for next week?

Well,

I'm researching a piece on fungus and frozen yogurt.

Is it a tasty treat or just a cone full of death?

Well, let's say, uh... Oh, what do I know? But I hear America shrugging.

shrug, shrug.

Jim?

My commentary next week will be entitled, From Punch Cards to Pentium

the Amazing Computer is Here to Stay.

I like that, Jim.

Superb. Riveting. I know I'll watch.

Franco, what have you got?

Well, uh, I just got a tip about this shady congressional sting operation

about to go down. Apparently these mining companies have been making

some of the... What?

That's my story. You stole... my shady sting story. Give it back, you thief.

Shut up.

I'm shutting off this ground.

Miles, I've been working on that story for weeks. Tell Frank he can't do it.

Tell him it's mine. It is not yours. I've been working on it for weeks, too,

if you're so far ahead, why haven't you done the story yet? Okay, hold it, hold

it.

Sounds to me like you both have a legitimate claim here, so I want you to

this between yourselves. Good idea.

Frank, I'm doing the story. There, it's settled.

And rather fairly, I'd say.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no.

I mean, you're both a couple of stories ahead. Why don't you both go after it

and see who gets the story first? No way!

Good, then it's settled.

Quite weeks of work go down the line because Frank is too selfish, too

egotistical, too bullheaded to just roll over and give me everything I want.

Why didn't he just roll over?

You know, Andrew, someone should teach Frank that sometimes it's in his own

interest to just back off.

You're right, Miss Brown.

Someone should teach Frank exactly that.

Hey, I don't mean to rattle you, Miles, but we're five minutes to air and nobody

can find Frank.

McGovern, McGovern, McGovern. It would take a little bit more for the exec

producer of two primetime network news shows to get, how did you put it,

rattled?

Tell him to check Frank's dressing room. Sometimes he hides in there behind his

clothes. They already did. He's not there.

Well, then, check the lobby. There's a big mirror down there he likes to look

himself in.

Yeah, he's not there either.

Can you find this camera -free hat?

Men's room?

Nope. The snack bar? Uh -uh. Oh, God, five minutes to air and we can't find

Frank! Hey, Miles, good news.

Thank God you found Frank. Found Frank? No.

Buried him? Oh, yes, indeed he do. I crack the story for next week. Isn't

great? Great? I smell a Humboldt.

Thanks in no small part to Andrew here. Oh, I had nothing to do with it, Miss

Brown. It was all you. You, you, you.

All right, two minutes to air, people.

I'm sure I speak for everyone when I tell you how happy I am for you, but we

undergoing a major crisis here. We can't find Frank. Uh -huh. Andrew, do that

funny little dance you do for me. Get a load of this.

I'm on my way to tracking down my final source for my sting operation when, bam,

all four of my tires go out at once. All four. Can you believe that?

Damn, I am this close to breaking that story.

Well, I'm just glad you're okay. Yes, thank heaven you're not hurt. All right,

one minute to air. Okay, people, we got a show to do.

Okay.

What? Nothing.

I mean, if that's your story, stick to it. But you didn't have to come up with

such an elaborate excuse. I mean, there's no shame in losing a story to

have. Many more will.

I'm telling the truth.

Okay. Blowout.

All four tires.

Pity about the car, Frank.

Pity.

You know what I think?

I think Andrew sabotaged my car so that Murphy could beat me out of that story.

Oh, come now, Frank. Why don't you just accept defeat and get on with your life?

Yeah, Frank. Do you really expect us to believe that that wormy guy actually

broke into your garage, fiddled with your tires, just so Murphy could win

stupid story?

All right, let's settle people!

Well, when you put it that way, it probably is a little far -fetched. Gets

just being a little paranoid.

And we are live in 5, 4, 3, 2... Good evening, and welcome to

FYI.

For your information tonight, Frank Fontana reports on the spreading threat

international terrorism.

Gee, that's too bad.

I'll get out my violin.

Look, if it's not here by 12, you'll wish you were never born.

Yoo -hoo.

Where do you think you're going, hon?

I'd like to ask you something.

I'm afraid Miss Brown is busy.

No, she's not. She's right there. Like I said, she's busy.

Now, if you'd like to make an appointment with Miss Brown, maybe I

you in around three.

Nope.

Good day.

Go on. Shoo.

wouldn't let you near her, would he?

I told you there was something fishy going on here. Jim, tell her what

to you.

Yesterday, Murphy remarked how much better my parking space was than hers.

I pull into the parking garage this morning, and lo and behold, there was

in my spot, blacking out my name and stenciling Murphy's name over it.

So help me if I ever catch him alone. I swear... Oh, dear Lord.

What if that monster can read lips?

I turned down a $736 expense request for Murky this week. Well, somehow she

ended up getting reimbursed, and the exact amount was deducted from my

I'm afraid, Frank.

Hi, guys. How's it going?

Oh, it's going fine, Murky.

Actually, I wonder if we could talk to you.

Yeah, I love... Oh, well, anything you have to say to me, you can say in front

of Andrew.

I'm that loyal.

Well, it is kind of personal.

Well, what's the big deal? I think there's nothing... If you don't mind,

Brown, I have quite a lot of work to do.

Okay, Andrew.

Oh, well, I hope you're happy you've heard his feelings.

Slugger.

Slugger. It's about Andrew.

Oh, no.

It's not this again.

Look, Andrew is a good, kind, trustworthy assistant. What problem

possibly have with him? He scares me.

Okay, I know what this is about.

Frank, you're just trying to get back at me for beating you out on that story.

And the rest of you, you're jealous.

That's right. You're jealous because I finally have a better secretary than

Miss Brown, I hate to disturb this important discussion, but it seems

slight problem with your sting story.

How slight?

My Uncle Stan just killed it. What?

He spiked away Sting's story?

Come on, Andrew. It's time to have a little talk with Uncle Stan.

Oh, about the lip -reading thing?

If you think I'm going to cut into my weekend to go to a funeral for a broad,

barely knew. You're nuts.

Excuse me. Would you tell Stan that Murphy Brown wants to talk to him? He's

meeting. So then Stan would ask about shipping for flowers.

Straight in the eye. You know what I say? I say, you're nuts.

The meeting will just have to wait.

Maybe you didn't hear me, blondie. I said he's in a meeting.

Listen, you little nicotine -stained troll.

This Andrew J.

Lansing III.

The little snitch who got a job in personnel and tried to get me canned.

Oh, you thought you could just cut your hair, shave your beard, and all would be

forgotten. You just made the biggest mistake of your life, sonny boy.

Sorry to interrupt, Stan, but I demand to know why you killed my piece.

Look at this. Kids today, no manners.

Do me a favor, Giuseppe. Go outside, talk to Mrs. O 'Brien. Tell her those

bocce ball stories you have. You know, remember?

You hurt yourself.

All right, Murphy.

Since you asked, I brought you my attention.

During one of my very bad rough cuts of the new comedy series, Blarneystone P

.I., that you employed some very underhanded methods in procuring your

sources and documents for your stories.

Stan, I assure you, I did nothing underhanded in getting that story. You

you didn't promise the Secret Service agent $15 ,000 to look at classified

documents? No!

And you didn't threaten to expose some postal workers' marital infidelities?

Absolutely not. Andrew, back me up here.

She's right. Miss Brown had absolutely nothing to do with any of those things.

Well, then who did?

Well, maybe it was Frank.

Frank wouldn't do that.

Would Corky?

All right.

I admit it. It was me. I did those things.

I'm sorry, Miss Brown.

You did those things?

I'm afraid I did, Miss Brown.

And Frank's tires?

Miles' paycheck?

Jim's parking space?

Andrew, why?

We had a good thing going.

Please try to understand, Miss Brown.

I really needed this job to work out. I would have done anything for you. I

would have killed for you. You didn't, did you?

No. But when Jeannie in travel bumped into you in the elevator and didn't even

say excuse me, I could have.

I don't believe it, Dan.

I assure you, I knew nothing about any of these things.

Okay, okay, I knew about the Miles Paycheck thing and Jim's parking space,

other than that, I didn't know anything.

It's not about you, Murphy.

It's about my nephew.

Andrew. Yes, Uncle Stan.

Threatening lives.

Illegally entering government facilities.

My boy, you've bloomed!

I thought you were just a moron. with some questionable genetic heritage.

But today, young man, you're a real Lansing.

Oh, Uncle Stan!

Wait, wait, wait, wait.

I'm not a touchy -feely kind of uncle, Andrew.

But maybe we'll get our mitts and we'll throw the ball around.

You're the one who liked to play catch, weren't you? When I was 11.

Oh, you liked to play catch with me. Come on, Andrew. Let's discuss your new

responsibilities. Miss O 'Brien, will you please show Murphy out?

No. then, Andrew is still my secretary. Granted, I don't approve of his methods,

but that doesn't mean that, toned down, he still can't be a very valuable and

perfectly legal asset to me. In fact, from now on, there's going to be nothing

but tough love for you, young man. Come on. I am going to scare you straight.

Wait, wait. What?

Are you out of your mind here? This boy is not a secretary.

With his skills, I need him by my side.

Maybe he can find a way to boost this network's sagging rating.

I know.

I know. We could work on our shows and make them better, but that takes so much

time and money.

Andrew, what I want from you is ten ways to take down ER.

Maybe you can get to Rosemary Clooney's nephew with the perfect head.

Remember, no paper trail.

Oh, twinkle toes.

Oh, no, Stan. You're not going to take Andrew away from me. I won't allow it.

brought me fresh donuts.

No one ever brought me fresh donuts.

Don't worry, Murphy. I'll get you a secretary from the pool.

Oh, no, not the pool.

Anything but the pool.

All right, all right. Don't get crazy.

I'll give you Mrs. O 'Brien as a loaner.

I take my chances with the pool.

Thanks for coming up, Murphy.

Don't let the doorknob hit you on the way out.

Move, move, move!

Keep it down. I need it for one more year.

Hold on a minute.

Andrew, did you find a way to help our Thursday night lineup?

Everything's taken care of, Uncle Stan.

Hey! What's the deal with these brakes?

And why are they gone?

Are you tired of doing stuff?

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

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

Let me make it sound easy. Easy TV Summer. All summer long, only on Nick at

Night.