Hacks

# Ooh, Las Vegas #

# Ain't no place for a poor boy like me #

Okay, writers, here are your informational resources

on Deborah Marie Vance.

You have biographical background,

joke areas approved, joke areas refused,

as well as several character quirks

that you should be aware of.

If you get carsick while reading,

just focus on a fixed object on the horizon,

because this reading is required.

Are we all done?

Great. What are your pitches?

Whoa. Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.

Let's back it up a second.

Why don't we start with some icebreakers?

I'll go first.

Uh, my name is Ava Daniels.

I'm from Waltham, Massachusetts.

And one thing about me is,

I recently became allergic to shrimp.

- Who wants to go next? - Me.

I'm Deborah Vance,

and one thing about me is, I love pitches.

Got any?

- Ooh. - Uh...

Why don't we ease into working

by getting to know each other a little bit better first?

Why?

They're writing for me. I'm not writing for them.

- What is your problem? - What happened to our truce?

Nothing!

We agreed to put our personal differences aside

and never speak of them again, but that doesn't mean,

creatively, I have to agree with all your stupid ideas.

The point is to warm up to each other.

We're supposed to bond, mingle,

play "Cards Against Humanity,"

if you would have given me two seconds to grab my deck.

You know how much work we have to do.

We do not have the time to find out,

you know, what their last names are and all that shit.

But this is a retreat.

I called it that because, legally,

I was advised that I couldn't take them into an office

over the weekend.

- You're insane! -

Listen, I have been in writers' rooms before.

You can't just throw people together on day one

and expect them to churn out material.

Well, I'm not playing slip, slap, slop with them.

Okay.

Clearly, we are not gonna see eye to eye on this.

But at the very minimum, we have to tell them

exactly what kind of show we are trying to make.

Fine. I can do that.

Okay.

- High-five me. - What?

High-five me. They're definitely looking.

We need to show unity.

- Let go. - No!

Let go!

Follow me.

A few steps behind is fine.

- Yes! -

This way.

Okay.

The room where it happens.

Okay, we've got cantaloupe and saltines.

Everybody, dig in and let's get to work.

So I've had a long time to think about this.

The reason late night works

is not because of the format,

but because of the person.

We didn't say, did you see "The Tonight Show"?

We said, did you see Carson or did you see Letterman?

It's a person you let into your house late at night

and you go to bed with.

So how do we make millions of people

- wanna go to bed with me? -

They need to get to know me.

They need to understand me.

That means every monologue joke we write,

every desk bit, every sketch,

every interview question

has to be specific to me and something only I can do.

And more importantly,

this needs to be the number one late night show

within three months.

- Uh. - Whoa.

Deborah, my friend, can we talk outside for a sec?

Sure.

That's, like, really soon.

You cannot tell them it needs to be

the number one show on day one.

That is such insane pressure.

Winnie says that we have to save late night comedy.

And if we go from being new kid on the block to number one,

that proves it's not dead.

And I want to be number one because I can be.

Okay.

Perhaps we could start by giving them a smaller target

than global number one hit.

God!

Okay.

I understand that some of you were hired

to write monologue jokes and others to write sketches.

But for this weekend, I would like us all to focus

on the first episode opener.

Now, the very best late-night premieres

have kicked off with a buzzy, hilarious segment

that grabs the audience's attention

and sets the tone for the entire show.

Conan ran across the country to his new stage in LA.

Letterman's was in the style of Boris Karloff's "Frankenstein."

So what will mine be?

Go.

Oh. Um, right now?

If you don't have anything, let's move along.

You.

Uh, uh, maybe it's like a bunker situation,

where you've been in, like, a bomb shelter

- for the past 45 years? -

Yeah, maybe you went down there to get a bottle of wine

and the door locked behind you.

And you've been surviving off canned beans.

Yeah.

Yeah, and you can't stop farting 'cause...

'cause of the beans.

Huh.

It's... it's interesting direction, you guys.

It's really cool to see how your minds work.

So, anything else?

Oh, maybe a sports movie parody,

like a "Rudy" style thing, but it's Deborah,

who's never been in the game.

Shoulder pads have always been flattering on my frame.

And all of her teammates can be veteran late-night hosts.

- We can get some really fun cameos. - Yeah.

And they can dump a Gatorade cooler on you,

but it's full of glitter.

And one of them accidentally punches you in the boob.

It's... actually, "SNL" might have done it.

That man is a riff killer.

- Let's go fire him. - No.

Maybe that's how he acts when he's nervous.

I mean, you haven't exactly created

the warmest environment for creativity.

You're giving their jokes nothing.

Well, and you're giving them too much with your...

Please, at least just smile at them.

Oh, wow, you're telling a woman to smile,

when you made such a scene when my dear friend, Dave Blaine,

was simply giving you advice.

Just be a little nicer to Nate.

What do you want me to do, give him a hand job?

- Jesus. - He's a loser.

God!

What if we do a "Twilight Zone" send-up

to highlight the absurdity that there has

never been a woman at 11:30?

Um, anything else?

Maybe you're stuck at the DMV,

and they aren't calling your number,

and you realize you've been there for, like, 45 years.

And all of the numbers they are calling

are just for, like, white men in suits named Jimmy.

- Okay. Maybe. -

Um, or how about a beauty pageant sketch?

We can talk about how pleasing I am to the eyes,

compared to the guys in the suits.

I don't know if we wanna overload

too early on the appearance stuff.

It'd be funny.

I mean, TV is a visual medium.

Who likes my pitch? Show of hands.

No, don't. You can't make them do that.

Who thinks that I can make you do that?

Show of hands.

Uh, uh, I do.

Good. Okay.

Uh, what did you like about my pitch?

I think it's good.

But don't... don't you think it's potentially reductive?

True. I see both points.

But isn't funny, funny?

- Yes. Funny is funny. - Yeah.

And if funny is funny, this is a comedy show.

- We should do funny. - Right.

You're pressuring her.

You don't wanna do it, right?

I think it could be funny,

which is obviously funny.

And then I also see how we could think

of something funnier, some of the smartest

people I know around here.

Okay, so what would be funnier?