we'll be right back with more stuff.
fuck. shit. piss.
more stuff?
well, it's late. but thank you. thank you for trying. you are a scholar and a.
keep it. it's okay. keep it. you are a scholar and a.
why are you not looking at me like that? do i look ugly to you? it's the not sleeping. i'm not sleeping, see. i have a lot on my.
you know what i'd do? -- and don't tell anybody -- i'd rub.  i'd rub alpo brand dog food on my dick so the dogs would stick their noses into my.  dick. guaranteed big laugh, right? that was my trick, my great contribution to the world. how wouldn't i degrade myself, i ask you.
i ask you!
i always pay for the damn tv's, don't i? don't i?!
still? complaints? i specifically used the silencer this time! specifically!
yes, of course.
my apologies. buy -- 917, is it? -- buy them a magnum of your finest champagne. and.  and your finest spackle. oh, and get me a bag of plastic army men while you're out. i forgot to tell you before.
and some black socks! seven black socks, you rascule!
bellhop johnson was clearly repulsed by the sight of me. and why not? i'm wrinkled.  .  like a prune. covered in liver spots.  .  like an old guy. my hair is falling out in clumps, leaving exposed patches of white, sickly scalp. a flabby inner-tube of fat hangs from my waist, practically obscuring my bedraggled prick -- dark and shriveled and dead. still leaking urine even though i left the toilet ages ago. my asshole itches. hemorrhoids abound. george orwell said every man has the face he deserves by fifty. does every man have the asshole he deserves by fifty, as well? does every fifty year old asshole have the asshole he deserves?
my name is charles prescott barris. i have written pop songs, i have been a television producer. i am responsible for polluting the airwaves with mind- numbing, puerile entertainment. in addition, i have murdered thirty-three human beings. i am damned to hell.
born in philadelphia, pennsylvania in 1931, my early childhood remains accessible to me only as a series of elliptical, enigmatic memories.
the taste of bologna fresh from the butcher.
the sickly sweet smell of a burning babydoll on a crisp autumn day.
velvet brushing against my tender young skin, as my mother dressed me.
a constant, inarticulate rage leading to fist fight after fist fight.
the calm i felt watching dust suspended in the early morning sunlight.
i remember fear.
love.
yes, mommy. please.
rejection.
expulsion.
when i was sixteen i had an experience with my little sister's friend tuvia that left an indelible impression.
phoebe's no walter page, huh, tuvia?
of course you don't. why are you waiting around anyway, listening to this cacophonous cacophony, when you could be in your own abode disrupting the lives of your own siblings?
no. you wouldn't, would you.
hey.
hey, tuvia.
you wanna lick it?
well, for one thing it tastes like strawberry. my sister tells me you love strawberries.
honestly, a man's penis tastes exactly like a strawberry lollipop.
it is true. it's weird but it's true. i just read a research paper on it.
my first love.
well, what does it taste like?
if you do, i'll tell your mother you made our dog lick your crack.
so what?
perhaps my whole life turned at that point. the repulsiveness of my sex confirmed by the tastebuds of a ripening pubescent girl.
and so i found myself in a downward spiral of debauchery. endlessly chasing pussy. my only focus in life: to get laid, to get blown, trying to fool myself into believing that given the right combination of circumstances and deception, maybe the tuvias of the world could desire me the way i desired them. i only wanted to be loved.
a constant, inarticulate rage led to bar fight after bar fight.
as much as i tried, i couldn't understand my past and my present was miserable, so, at twenty-four, i decided what i needed was a future.
 i had heard that television was an industry with a future.
next, we'll have a look at the studio where they produce the today show.
management trainee application, please.
how many people applying for this so far?
for how many positions?
head of network sales at thirty. head of the entire network at forty.
dead of a heart attack by fifty with all my millions left to you.
life was sweet. for a minute.
i got fired.
fired. f-i-r.
i don't know, efficiency cutback. some bullshit.  look, it's gonna be.
pregnant?
what the fuck did you get pregnant for?!
well, fuck you.
so i figured i'd skip town. i intend to be important, y'know, i can't be saddled with this.  but then i remembered something carlyle said: "do the duty which lies nearest thee."
dear god, why do i even bother?
hey, fuck you.
hey, fuck you.
in '61 i was thirty. i had become a minor suit at abc. it was during the music payola scandal.
so my job was to commute to philly every day to the american bandstand tapings, and keep an eye on dick clark.
on weekends i used to hang around amusement parks. because that's where the young girls were.
i wrote a song about my experience.
i got it to freddie "boom boom" cannon through my friendship with dick clark. dick really wanted to help me out.
hi.
hi!
i wrote this song.
it's number three on the pop charts.
see, i believe there's a great future in television.
so i'm going to take my royalties and create a pilot. a pilot is what they call a test tv show.
yeah. it's gonna be a game show. i believe there's a great future in game shows.
everyone loves game shows, right?
well, they do.
i'm on my way!
hi. don't be alarmed i'm with debbie.
um, no thanks.
if you have a beer.
it was good. fine. thanks for asking.
huh. interesting.
jew.
ashkenazi.
you're a romantic.
i know what you mean.
i know what you mean.
don't i know it.
well, that would be good. but, you know, i'm kind of here with debbie. it doesn't seem right.
what's your name?
i'm chuck.
nothing.
okay.
i'm just used to all this dating bullshit, y'know. now we're a couple. now i'm obliged to give a shit what you say.
holy fuck!
holy holy fuck! you just gave me an idea. (starts pacing for a show! fuck!
in a way. about the craziest monkey of all: monkius humanius! don't you see? about people! about sex. about romance. about the bullshit of dating!
i call it the dating game, mr. goldberg. and that's what it's about. a pretty girl asks three handsome guys, who she can't see, silly questions. and based on their answers, she picks one to date. and we pay for the date. that's it! that's the show! it's got everything!
they bought it!
they bought it they bought it they bought it.
they're giving me seventy-five hundred fucking dollars to make a pilot!
i can't, pen. i got a date.
yeha, okay. i will.
albert's dead.
still, it's hard to go on.
i'm trying to come up with new tv shows, if you must know. okay? that's what i'm doing. i believe there's a real future in tv. look. ideas. okay?
thanks for the status report, phoebe. look, i just gotta come up with the right concept. then, boom. which, by the way, i've almost got.
somehow, and don't ask me why, phoebe, my being born broke mom's heart.
hey phoebe, you ever see what's-her-name, tuvia, anymore?
tuvia. your friend. tuvia. the girl.
oh, yeah?
hi, tuvia.
i came by to apologize.
so i'm back in town. for a while. i thought maybe you and i could --
screw off, fag. don't think i haven't seen you watching me in that bar for a week now.
look, there's a schoolyard half a block down. why don't you go trolling there?
 and i figure if i can keep afloat until i come up with my next game show idea, then all will be copacetic.
yeah, yeah. so what's this money deal you were talking about?
what kind of work? what government agency?
office of what? never heard of it. is that the fucking cia or something?
jesus, it is the fucking cia! hell, i'll be a spy! where do i sign up? are you fucking with me? you're fucking with me, aren't you?
why me?
jesus.
well, what's the profile?
yeah, sure, i wanna be a secret agent. contract agent. whatever. get to fuck beautiful eastern european women. wear a trenchcoat. sounds like a kick.
sure. yeah. okay. that's good.
you're training me to be a killer.
i can't kill people. my future is in television.
i have ideas for shows.
how do you know all that?
okay.
where are you going to be, jim?
it's just.
bad for the u.s., right, jim? not bad in an absolute sense, just bad for the u.s.
excusa me, por favor, senor.
donde es-bla ra-ba-blala los bloteros?
ra-bla-bla-mamos las minjares?
again.
repitolo. again.
oh christ. oh crap.
yeah.
i had changed. i could see it in my eyes. something dark.
"don't kill me. i am three babies." i am three babies? what the fuck does that mean? oh. "i have three babies." oh, god.
jesus christ, penny. you scared the shit out of me. what are you doing here?
mexico. just on a little vaca.
yeah.
i don't know.
penny, i'm a little tired now, so.
penny, what did you do to my wall?
leonard goldberg?! you're kidding? hello, this is chuck barris returning for leonard goldberg.
mr. goldberg! i'm so sorry i didn't get back to you right away. i was out of town. vacationing in mexico.
my baby, mr. goldberg?
yes sir, it is.
yes sir. very interested. sir.
my people? six weeks? sure. yes sir.
look, len, the show's spontaneous, it's unscripted. that's it's charm. i can't control what people say.
look, len, nobody is indifferent to these shows. right? and that's good. show business must avoid indifference at all costs.
taste is just a word.
what does that even mean? i don't even under --
hi, folks. before we begin taping today, i'd like to introduce you to mr. peter jenks of the federal communications commission.
any questions?
okay. have fun, everybody!'
terrific, rod! yeah, i'll get back to you on monday. great. thanks. bye.
ice! ice! ice! ice! ice!
hey, baby.
i know. sit. talk to me.
i just got a call from the network. drink?
i wish.
the tammy grimes show is being pulled from saturday night.
they want to put a prime-time version of the dating game on in its place.
but they say the day-time version's not hot enough. they want me to make it more exciting for night-time. i got forty- eight hours.
nothing. bupkis. i mean, the show is what it is. i don't have a clue. this could be my big break, loretta.
thank you for your help.
you son of a bitch!
you're a stupid fucking turd, you know that?
my fucking neck hurts. okay?
have you noticed, jim, i've got a tv show on the air? i don't need to kill people for hire anymore.
that's insane.
i've got important things to think about here. i don't have time to fuck around with you.
what, now you're a television producer?
let's hear it then.
yeah, what's your point?
the network's not going to let me send two unmarried kids on vacation together.
y'know, that's not half bad.
i told you, i don't have to kill people for money anymore.
jesus, she's gotta pick this guy. this is just too good.
excuse me, is this seat taken?
london is wonderful this time of year, isn't it.
oh. sorry.
excuse me, is this seat taken?
london is wonderful this time of year, isn't it?
i'm chuck.
and you are?
at least give me a made-up name. something for me to cry out during those dark nights of the soul.
that's twelfth night.
do you have it?
sorry. yeah.
don't worry, we're not gonna cheat you.
thank you. oh, one more thing.
sorry about your teeth.
it's ronnie, isn't it?
c'mere, ronnie. i want to show you something neat. it's okay.
olivia?
sounds fun. so tell me, patricia, why'd you come up here tonight?
"all the information i have about myself is from forged documents."
actually, i just gotta go into the bathroom and take care of something.
hey.
you're welcome, pal.
fuck you! they're my contestants.
faggot.
yeah, i got it.
it's up my ass, oliver. why don't you reach on up there and get it.
i just feel i deserve some appreciation for my efforts.
prick.
what?
you're kidding me.
oh, fuck, loretta. that's sensational!
yeah, i decided to start treating myself right. you spend so much time denying yourself things. life's too short.
you really grok what i'm saying, man. not gork.
i'll take it.
i'll take the house.
nobody serious. you?
aw, pen, don't start --
i liked penny. i even loved her in my way. but the idea of tying myself down for the rest of my life.  i remember my parents' marriage.
beautiful. did you see that? how much they loved each other just then? that's what it's all about, kiddies.
okay, guys, new business. we're winning our slots every week.
but that means we need you bandits to get on the contestant mill. our supply of dumbfucks is lagging behind our demand for dumbfucks. and i'm gonna be introducing three new shows in the coming months: the parent game, the game game, and the dollar ninety-eight beauty pageant, so we're gonna really need you guys to carry your weight. nuff said. any other business?
oooh. is that true, rick? where are you?
any other witnesses to this alleged infraction?
rick, you're dead meat, buddy. i sentence you to.  dance for us in today's post-meeting version of "out of limits" featuring the musical stylings of the cbp stompers.
get up here, you rascule, you.
the word's interpret.
interpret.
i'm not going to give you a letter. you're lucky i don't make you forfeit a turn.
i'll run to the store and get some more.
don't cheat.
intrepid.
pen, we should call it a night. i'm kinda tired.
i got a date.
i just met this girl.
yeah. kinda.
sorry.
hi!
wow, this is a beautiful place you got!
hi.
hi.
yes, i have.
my sweet little clamato.
is it mine?
i know. i'm sorry. but you're sure, right?
look, we'll take care of it.
well, no. not at this point.
beautiful country, isn't it?
here we are.
it's okay. it'll be okay.
tell me about it. i figure over the years i must've spent close to twenty grand on these abortions: airfare, hotels, doctors, gifts.
and i don't even know how many of these fetuses were mine. that's what really kills me.
yeah, i got baptized for nothing.
god, you look cute today.
i don't know.
i know how old i almost am! that's it. don't ever ask me to marry you again!
i'm sorry i yelled at you today, pen.
uh.
shit piss fuck, send him in.
what's up, rod?
okay.
they killed my babies. just like that. i pushed them into the world through the birth canal of my imagination. lovingly. tenderly. where's the humanity of these people?
what am i gonna do now? hey there, can i buy you a drink?
fuck you!
let's see, if i remember correctly, the next move breaks your neck, which kills you instantly or paralyzes you. depending on your luck.
get out of here, you pussy faggot piece of shit dog-shit shithead.
hi. i'm chuck barris, tv producer. have you ever done any acting?
she's --
this is not our house, it's my house.
it's not our living room, pen.
you know who i am, penny. i don't force you to hang around.
no, i'm not saying that.
of course i like you.
what?
i don't even know what that means, "how much?" how can i rate a person in that way? that's ridiculous.
everything's complicated, pen. nothing's black and white like that.
i love you, pen, in my way. maybe not in that crazy, head-over-heels thing, but what is that, anyway? romantic love. isn't that just an illusion?
jesus, how do you know these things?
really? i could never find that out. what did she think?
i could really use an assignment, jim. to straighten my head.
treesh.
bye-bye, colbert, bye-bye.
done and done. see you after?
what you writing, sig?
hey, keeler, a bird just flew by.
who is it?
good morning, mrs. reynolds.
the human psyche is a wondrous thing.
mrs. reynolds, may i rest my head on your bosom for a little while?
i'm sorry. you're right. i just.  i'm just without.  comfort of any sort, and i.  please forgive me.
thank you. thank you. thank you. you are a scholar and.
mrs. reynolds, what do you suppose god thinks of someone like me?
yes, god.
thank you, that's very kind. so.  i should get back to.
i'm really, really fucked.
what? who the hell are you?
merde! merde!
what the hell is that?
no fucking way.
christ. what about you?
fuck you, jim. it was terrifying.
am i in danger still?
fuck off. what do we do?
thank you. thanks. that was great.
there's gotta be somebody in america with some talent. ted mack got bookings every week.
bring in the next thing.
thank you. thank you. we'll be in touch. that was wonderful.
we've been going about this all wrong. rather than killing ourselves trying to find good acts, we just book bad ones and kill them.
we kill 'em before they're through. as soon as it gets unbearable, we kill 'em. dead.
celebrity judges ring a bell to end the act.  to kill 'em. and when you kill something, it stops. this i know to be true.
oh, fuck me. this guy sucks. he's bringing everyone down.
what?
i don't want to be on tv.
ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the gong show! i'm your host, chuck barris! ucchhh.
welcome to the gong show. here's an esoteric act if there ever was one. ephemeral. it's an ephemeral act.
one that should get us our emmy. do we have an emmy? we don't? well this should get us one. anyway, ladies and gentlemen.  big nose!
i don't know. i don't understand.
well, win a few, lose a few. we'll be back with more stuff.  right after this message.
i can't quit? but i get panicky, louise, in front of all those people.
i lack confidence?
confidence powder?
blow, snow, flake?
oh. coke. okay. does that work?
ladies and gentlemen, oh, this act is amazing, your gonna love this act. i'm telling ya. all the way from pacoima.  david pincus!
look, jamie, you know as well as i that language does not exist without an outward criteria.
can we pick up tomorrow?
will do. love ya.
jamie, i can't talk anymore tonight --
assassins do not fraternize. that keeler was calling me could mean it was my turn to get hit.
sure. dinner sounds good. there's a place called la scala. see you there at eight.
keeler.
only the best for my friend.
yes.
well, it's hit and miss. i've got a new show called "operation entertainment" which i believe is going to kill. it's sort of a bob hope visiting the troops thing, but it's weekly and.
well, i like to think that i bring joy and laughter to millions of people. i'm not saying that my shows are as good as they could be. yet. but --
oh.
that's carlyle!
it's amazing you should quote him. he's my hero.
condemned?
i'm glad you did, pen.
i could see how you would feel that way.
transactional analysis.
a guy i knew killed himself last night.
you don't know him. a stagehand.
he didn't like his work anymore.
yeah, it's pretty bad.
oh fuck, i forgot.
um, penny, this is patricia. how did you find me?
who sent you?! who the fuck sent you?!
take it off.
the fucking bag. take it off.
here he is, the prince of puns, the wizard of whoopee.  the unknown comic!
what? what do you want?
i don't know.
get out of here.
who?!
i'll take it! don't hang up!
hello?
yes.
of course i do.
sweet tuvia.
ripe tuvia.
not now.
old tuvia.
hi.
ah, tuvia. the fantasy of tuvia forever cast out by the reality of tuvia. finally, because of my fame and her desperate straits, her poverty and single parenthood, she was going to submit to me. finally i could've had her.
i could've had what had so long eluded me. but now she was old and i wasn't interested.
tuvia was old, but not me. i was the game show king.
what?
this is the moment we've been waiting for.
the winner is miss tiny brooks!
hey, congratulations, jim.
chuck barris. the gong show.
once again you deserve it. your shows are the greatest. you bring so much.  quality to the medium.
yeah.
great. i'm just heading --
uh-huh.
hi.
it's me.
well --
i don't think it's that loathsome.
excuse me, i've got to --
she was right. what the hell had i done with my life?
wait, you're that guy. you're dead. this is screwy.
that's all i fucking wanted!
no, i'm.
please, i'm not feeling well.
you can stop by the office to audition tomorrow.
yeah, all right. go ahead.
very nice.
who am i?
fuck. shit. piss.
how'd you know where i was?
look, what do you want, oliver? i don't work for you anymore. i have things to.
no. now get.  good-bye
keeler committed suicide.
i'm not interested, oliver.
that fucking profile again! what's the fuck is it?! what the fuck do you bastards know about me, that i don't?!
that's not true.
you're lying.
just leave me the hell alone!
huh? what?
jesus, how'd you find me? am i listed in some guidebook or something?
oh. well, it's great to see you, pen. you look beautiful.
yeah. the human psyche.
i don't know, redhead.
pen.
you don't know the half of it.
i don't know if i can.
y'know, i got a visit this morning from penny. she's wanted to marry me forever. but she doesn't know who i am, what i've, what i'm capable of.
and she can't ever know. so what does she really love? a lie. and i started thinking, treesh, you are the only woman in the world who truly knows me. i know i've screwed you over in the past, and i'm really sorry. i just want you to know that you're the one i want to be with. i love you, treesh.
i hate myself for how i've lived, treesh.
i never thought of that. jesus, i can't even despise myself with any insight.
y'know, i wanted to be a writer once. i wanted to write something that someday some lesser person would quote. but i never did. i'm the lesser person, treesh. i never said anything meaningful that wasn't said by somebody else first. i am disposable. i disposed of people and i am disposable. you look cold.
i suppose you still won't tell me where you're staying.
sure. bourbon.
yeah?
you could've fooled me.
that sounds right.
to life.
l'chaim.
it's done and i'm done. agreed?
hey, redhead?
drive, danny! now!
pen, i have something to confess.
you know me as the creator of the dating game, the newlywed game, the family game, the game game, how's your mother-in-law, dream girl of 1968.
yeah, operation entertainment. the rah- rah show, gong show, the dollar-ninety- eight beauty show, the ra-rah show.
okay. okay, but what you don't know is that i've brutally murdered thirty-three people for the cia.