I'm Dying Up Here

Previously on I'm Dying Up Here...

Someone was there from Midnight Special.

They cancelled.

It's not your fault.

God's got it out for the Hobbs, that's all I know.

Who do we talk to about stage time?

Richard Pryor's going on Thursday night.

I can, uh, bump him if it means that

I can get some pros on stage.

I was on that list every week, and now look at me.

I got the main room whenever I want it,

as long as it's ten minutes before closing.

Let me help you, hmm?

Find a voice that women can relate to.

There is room for me too,

I just need your stage to prove it.

When you're ready.

You killed it at The Store last night.

You know, I-I wanted to be here.

But it's just one fucking night, right?

Caught my ex getting a blow job in our office.

That was one fucking night too.

Shouldn't there be some sort of pecking order

based off time put in at the club?

Oh, there's a pecking order.

Me, you.

Are you having a good time, ma'am?

Really? All right.

Tell your face.

Guys, Vietnam's coming to an end.

That means what?

Comedians are coming home... from Canada.

I used to do a lot of handyman work, growing up.

Mostly because my dad was in the business...

of breaking shit.

Well, what are you doing in here?

That hooker in the trunk ain't gonna bury herself.

All right, thank you, folks.

You've been a... slightly above average crowd.

Excuse me.

I'm looking for Teddy.

The owner does time?

He does when there are holes in the lineup.

Well, why's he singing?

He ran out of jokes.

Hey, do you folks like impressions?

Yeah.

Well, you're gonna be impressed by this next guy.

Please welcome to the stage Billy Quandt!

You know what you guys are?

You're alchemists.

You create pleasure from pain.

And that is a virtuous gift, my friend.

So why the free grub?

Because at King Theodore's, the comic is king.

All right, don't let this crown fool you.

I just work here.

And sure, yeah-yeah, I can carry a tune, but...

you're the rock stars, all right?

You keep the doors open. I just hold the key.

Uh, what-what's, uh, what's the buffet like

over at Goldie's?

You know, cocktail onions, lemon twists, ice cubes.

Usual stuff.

That-that's a shame.

Please, help yourself.

Oh, try the-try the shrimp.

They're feathered in coconut.

Do you ever notice how the American dream

is to have your house filled with Mexicans?

Think about it.

Your big house, your big car,

your big pool isn't complete

unless you have Mexicans running around,

scrubbing that shit nonstop.

Saying, "You like this, meester? It's good, meester?"

Though think about this, also.

We clean the inside of the house.

We clean the outside of the house.

We build the fucking house.

We're the wet-backbone of this country.

That's why we're always saying "Mi casa es su casa."

We're being ironic.

Now, think about it, the ultimate thing

is you want a Mexican to take care of your kids.

That's the best.

You want a Mexican nanny?

You got a Mexican nanny?

You have one already?

Good one, old?

That's the best kind.

You want an old nanny, right?

They're not going anywhere. They're not dating.

Right?

All they're doing is concentrating on your child.

Right now, there's an eight-year-old boy in Tijuana.

Grandmother's reading him a book.

Mom is making him a quesadilla.

His father is trimming hedges outside.

He's living the American dream

and he doesn't even know it.

The pool at the Pines was shaped like a crescent.

I would bet my left ear on that.

The pool at the Pines was a fucking oval.

I spent eight summers there.

Ugh, you're betting your ear 'cause you don't need it

because you don't listen.

All right, Judy, I'm listening.

Paint me a picture.

Lights up. Catskills, 1956.

- Aye? - Okay. All right.

Uh, I'm seeing you and you...

you're sitting on Sid's lap,

eight months pregnant with Mandy,

dressed as an apricot hamantaschen

because it was one of those fucking nights,

you know, with the costumes

and-and the-and the singing

and we were all dressed as foods.

I'm knocked up with Jake but don't know it.

Yeah.

And the fucking pool was oval.

You slept today?

Mmm.

I'm fine.

I like to, uh, spread my eight hours beauty sleep

over at least a week.

I did a 3 a.m. at the Flamingo.

And, you know, got in the car, drove four hours here.

Whatever.

That's my thing now.

I'm on Vegas Standard Time.

My sun rises at 1 a.m.

Wake up, I go to work at three,

do 45 minutes, walk up the Strip

to Sammy's club, I do another set.

Then it's breakfast with the working girls.

I tell them how I killed.

They tell me how they almost got killed.

Showbiz.

Nothing like LA though, huh?

Laughs only matter on the coast.

Plus... I miss seeing you.

How is Jakey?

You know, driven.

Got a head of lettuce.

Oh.

- How's Mandy? - Ugh. Oy.

She'll turn the corner.

- Nah. - They all do.

Nah.

Come in.

Hey. Real quick?

Um, I was looking over tonight's lineup.

And I know-I know I was on there yesterday,

but for some reason I'm not-not on there now.

Oh, Edgar, I...

You know what? I'm gonna go grab my seat.

I'll be out in a minute.

Cheers.

I'm really sorry your name fell off the list, Edgar.

That happens sometimes.

But now maybe you can get some more time

at the fucking cafeteria

Teddy sells as a comedy club.

That's what this is about?

No, actually, I was thinking about

knitting you a sweater,

but I wanted to discuss it with you

before committing to the color.

What the fuck do you think it's about?

Have I ever been unclear about this?

It was fifteen minutes and appetizers.

Don't act surprised or-or stupid.

I-I can't really tell which one you're going for.

You want to go to Teddy's? Go.

I am not stopping you.

Goldie, come on, the guy had fucking shrimp.

Eh, I understand.

Shrimp is very tasty.

You wouldn't be pulling this shit if it was Carlin.

Carlin didn't flop in my office

while his teeth came in for a month.

Carlin didn't shower in my fucking sink.

Well, Carlin didn't paint your fucking comedy club

for free either.

And that's why you'll never see my name in the Bible.

Not even in the sexy parts.

My parents died in a car crash when I was ten.

Christ, with this shit again?

- Shh. - They hit a tree.

What?

I think that segue hit a tree.

Their obit read that their car was

wrapped around a tree, which I liked

'cause I thought it gave their death

a kind of Christmas-y feeling.