GET A LIFE SCRIPT -- CHRIS WINS A CELEBRITY 14. 02/24/91 "CHRIS WINS A CELEBRITY" Adam Resnick / Dean Parisot Chris enters a contest and wins a dream weekend living with his favorite TV talk show host Sandy Connors. [music: Afternoon Delight] Sandy ............. Martin Mull [SCENE MISSING] PETERSON DINNER TABLE Gladys: We thought we'd have you say the prayer tonight, Sandy. Sandy: Oh, geez! Chris, Fred and Gladys (in unison): Oh, geez! Sandy: Look, why don't we all just meditate silently to ourselves? Fred: I had a feeling he'd crap out on the prayer. Gladys: Shhh! (Everyone prays) Chris: What did you wish for Sandy? Oh, don't tell me, it won't come true! Sandy: It's a prayer, you moron, not a birthday cake. Fred: Settle down you two. So, you're an entertainer. Entertain us. Gladys: Oh yes! Sing us a song or do a magic trick! Chris: Mom, Dad, come on! For crying out loud, he's not a performing seal, let the man eat his dinner in peace. Geez. Sandy, do you feel like maybe doing a little breakdancing for us? Sandy: Is there a gun rack around here somewhere? Chris: (laughs) Did you hear that Mom? That was when he started to tell jokes. Fred: I didn't get it. Sandy: Ok, I'll tell you what. If you folks will let me out of here, I will buy you one of those big projection TVs. Chris: It's like a little game of chess isn't it, Sandy? (shows Sandy the contract) The only problem is, I own Boardwalk, and you keep landing on it. Sandy: Oh geez! Fred: Are we praying again? Sandy: Well, thank you for the lovely dinner. But uh, (yawns) been kind of a long day for me I think maybe if you'll point me towards the guest room I'll just call it a night. Fred: Guest room? You can't stay in the guest room, I know what you show business people are like. You'll just trash the place. Gladys: Besides, we just set off a tick bomb in there. Chris: Yeah, the cat's loaded with them. So you better check yourself in the shower. Sandy: Beautiful. So where AM I supposed to sleep? Chris: Hi Sandy! (Chris' Bedroom. Chris is fluffing up his pillow) Chris: Twinkle, twinkle, Chrissy's bed. A place to lay my weary head. Bah, bah, bah... Sandy: Chris! Chris! Chris! I'm exhausted. So where AM I supposed to sleep? (Chris points to his bed) Sandy: There is not a chance in hell. Chris: Ok, fine Sandy. If that's the way you want it, fine. (Sandy begins to prepare the sofa) Chris: Oh, yeah, that's a good idea, why don't you sleep on the sofa? But I warn you, it's loaded with chiggers. Sandy: Well, why don't you guys just buy some screen doors or something!? Chris: You know, that's easy for you to say, but not all of us make ninety million dollars a week. Come on Sandy. Come on. Let's just make the best of it. Morning will be here before you know it. (Flashes to Chris and Sandy in bed) Chris: Sandy, can I ask you a question? Sandy: No. Chris: Do you think the American Dental Association has a cure for tooth decay but's just keeping it a secret. I mean, think about it, they'd lose millions, wouldn't they? Sandy: Chris, why don't you just go in the bathroom and have a couple swigs of Nyquil? Chris: Yeah it's, it's funny you should mention the bathroom because um, that's something I'll be doing an awful lot of tonight. I have a bladder like a woman (laughs). Sandy: Lovely. Chris: Goodnight. Sandy: Goodnight. (Chris begins to cough and hack obnoxiously. He then reaches over Sandy to open his dresser drawer.) Sandy: What? What!? Chris: Midnight snack, Sandy? Sandy: No. No. Chris: Ok well, if you change your mind there's a couple of pickles wrapped in a napkin in my sock drawer, so help yourself. Sandy: Chris, you're driving me nuts. I mean, don't you ever sleep? You're like this schizy little chihuahua who's just whining to go out. Chris: Geez, I'm sorry. Boy, some pajama party this turned out to be. Sandy: Look, it's not a pajama party, you dork! It's 2:00 in the morning, my head is throbbing, and I'm starting to feel rashy. Chris: Sandy? Sandy: What? Chris: Want to see my appendix scar? (Sandy breaks lamp) Chris: So um, I take it you're getting a little drowsy. Goodnight. (Morning) Chris: Oh, good morning, Sandy! Ah, did we sleep well last night? Maybe it was my imagination, but I thought I heard you cursing at one point. Sandy: Go to hell. Chris: We're not a morning person, are we? I tell you what you need Sandy, you need a little sunlight in here, that's what you need. Here we go, upsy-daisy, ohhh! There we are, whooo! Skyrockets in flight, afternoon delight...good morning! (Chris in the bathroom) Chris: Oh geez, we got to get going! We've got a busy day ahead of us, come on! First we're going to have my big Sunday breakfast, loads and loads of bacon and lots of Sprite. And then I'm going to take you outside and parade you up and down the street and show you to all my friends in the neighborhood. And then I'm gonna...hey Sandy, what are you doing with your shoes? Sandy: I'm putting them on because I'm leaving. I'm getting the hell out of here, I hate you, I hate your family, I hate this little longwhore(?) shed you live in. Chris: Alright Sandy. As I see it, I have two options in front of me right now. One, I could cry. Oh, and believe me I could do that very easily. Or two, I could remember that it's Hollywood that's made you a shallow, cynical human being inside. Sandy, I'm going to take you out today and show you a world that's full of life, hope and laughter. Sandy: Oh, please don't. (Montage of Chris and Sandy to "Afternoon Delight" Chris picking a flower for Sandy. Chris and Sandy playing with rabbits Leaving "Miss Doyle's Hospitality House" Skipping through a park with balloons Throwing eggs at a police car - the car swerves and the policeman fires Riding in the back of one of those carts popular in the Far East Carving "Chris + Sandy Buddies Forever" in a tree and hugging) (Chris' Bedroom) (General giggling by both Chris and Sandy) Sandy: Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy. You know, I can't remember the last time that I felt this free and happy. Although I am going to be honest with you now, when I first set foot in this house, and I first met you and your parents, I sincerely thought I was in hell. Chris: Sure, sure. Sandy: But now, Chris boy, thanks to you. My whole outlook has changed. Because you know, who needs show business anyway? Who needs the mansions, who needs the leather sofas and the Lincoln Continentals? Nope, I'm all through with that. Chris: Well, what exactly are you saying Sandy? Sandy: I'm moving in with you, buddy, and I am never leaving. Ever! (Chris has a look of disgust) (Fred and Glady's kitchen - Sandy walks in carrying laundry) Sandy: Good morning folks, whatcha doing? Having a little breakfast? Fred: No, we're spot welding plumbing fixtures. Sandy: (laughs) You know, you're a real character, Mr. Peterson. If I didn't quit my TV show I'd have you on one of my 'Whacky Old People' segments. Incidentally, you're all out of laundry detergent again, so I threw in a cake of Safeguard. I hope that doesn't screw anything up. (sits down at the table) Sandy: Mrs. B? Would you get me a beer out of the refrigerator? (points to Fred's plate) Sandy: You all done, sir? Fred: Yeah. (Sandy puts his cigar out on Fred's plate. Begins eating) Sandy: Eww. Not a big fan of blueberry pancakes. You know, for future reference I just like them plain but uh, no hard feelings (slips Gladys a dollar). (Chris enters) Sandy: There he is! There's my best friend in the whole world. How you doing pal? Chris: Bleeh. Sandy: Hey, Chris? What do you want to do today, huh? You want to build a couple go-carts? Chris: Sandy, I don't have time for crap like that. I work for a living, ok? Sandy: Yeah, hey! That reminds me, did you have a chance to talk to your boss about getting me of those little paper route deals, it sounds like so much fun. Chris: Yeah, yeah I did Sandy and uh, um, he said there weren't any openings right now. Sandy: Really? Did you tell him I used to have my own TV show? (dog barking) Sandy: Oh, there's that big, slobbery dog from next door. I'm going to go wrestle with him for awhile. (Sandy leaves) Chris: I can't take it anymore! He's driving me crazy! Fred: Well, I warned you but as usual you wouldn't listen to me. Gladys: Next time honey, try to win a nicer celebrity. Someone like...Gary Collins. Chris: Believe me, I've learned my lesson. Oh boy, show business people are nothing but worthless losers who should be admired only from afar. If I could only figure out a way how to get rid of Sandy. Fred: Why don't we plant our credit cards on him and then call the cops? (Sandy walks in doorway) Sandy: Those phony, two-faced, middle-American, average Joe, bastards! Chris: Hey, I know, I could take him to the zoo at Millerstown and then dump him there. That's about a hundred miles away. Fred: No, he'd just find his way back. Gladys: We could always kill him. Sandy: Alright, you want me gone? I'm gone! I knew I shouldn't of tried to make friends with a bunch of...hillbillies! Chris: Sandy, Sandy, wait! (Chris searching for Sandy) Chris: Sandy? Sandy? Aw, come on Sandy, we didn't mean it. You're a joy to have around. (A cigar falls from a tree and lands on Chris' head) Chris: Sandy? Sandy: Leave me alone you burr-headed, pillow-biter. Chris: Sandy!? What are you doing up there? Is that anyway for a multi-millionaire celebrity to act? Geez. Oh boy, here I come. (Chris climbs the tree) Chris: Sandy...my, oh my. Hey uh, Sandy (coughs) excuse me, I don't think you're aware of this but uh (coughs), this is one of those non-smoking trees. Sandy: Chris, I know why you're here. You're going to try and talk me into coming back and living with you. Chris: Uh, actually, no Sandy, not at all. In fact, uh, I don't ever want you to come back. Sandy: Well fine, I'll just stay up here until I'm a rotting corpse and I stink up the whole neighborhood. Nice town, you've got dead people in the trees. Chris: Sandy, you know when I first met you, I said to myself, "Now, now here's a guy I can really look up to. I mean, he's everything that I want to be one day. He's rich, he's famous, he's good- looking, he's snotty..." Sandy: Come on Chris, you make me sound like Joe Garagiola. Chris: But you know what Sandy? I'm not the only one that looks up to you. (music begins to play in background) I mean, you literally have hundreds of fans out there. And you know, it's not fair for me to keep you all to myself. I mean, these people, they depend on you. Sandy: Yeah, but Chris, show business is so grueling. It's five hours of work EVERY week, it's having to wear those horrible synthetic hairpieces... Chris: Yes, but, it's also very rewarding, isn't it? Sandy, you make people laugh in a, in a world where laughter is kind of a precious commodity. Like coffee, and jam...and gloves. Sandy: That's true. Not to mention I get a truckload of money, and incredible amounts of tail. Chris: (laughs) Exactly, now that's the Sandy I know! Sandy: Well, you know you're absolutely right, Chris. I didn't come this far in my career to abandon everything and move in with a guy that throws a baseball like a ballerina. Chris: Exactly. Sandy: No, I was absolutely, obviously put on this Earth to entertain America, and take home a fat paycheck, huh?! So as long as there is breath left in this old body of mine, that is exactly what I'm going to do. Thank you, Chris. (Chris and Sandy hug and the tree limb they've been sitting on breaks. One of Chris' leg breaks and is twisted and laying on his stomach) Sandy: Oh boy. Chris: Sandy? When will I see you again? Sandy: Oh Chris, you can see my anytime you want. In fact, thanks for asking, I will be at the uh, Tropicana Hotel on March through the 23rd. From there, it's down to beautiful Miami Beach, Florida at the Fountainbleau, last time Bob Kulp showed up, surprised me, he's a lot of fun. And then from there, out to the coast, I'll be a guest on Match Game PM. You check your local listings for time and stations. Ok, adios, pal (hits Chris on his broken leg). Chris: Oh, geez. Good bye, sweet Sandy. I shan't forget you. THE END {http://www.nyx.net/~dnadams} [Transcribed by Craig Scarborough]