Lucky Numbers Page #2

Tell me something I don't know.

Do we have anything else?

I think we're through here.

Unless you want to torture me

about the f***ing weather chopper.

Like that was a bad idea.

Weather chopper?

Come on, I'm a weatherman.

You know what the truth is?

I feel bad foryou, Dick. I do.

One day you're gonna wake up,

and you're gonna realize...

you had a diamond in your hand,

and you let it slip away.

To where, Atlantic City?

- Oh, that's what this is about.

- To be a big game show host.

That's right. I hear everything.

I'm like a satellite in outer space.

Did you get your audition?

- My agent is all over it.

- Right. [ Chuckles ]

[Russ] Mace Kornberg, please.

Yes, this is Russ Richards. Mm-hmm.

You know, this is getting

a little ridiculous.

I've already left,

like, five messages.

Allright, your boss, Mace Kornberg,

saw me on TV, okay?

He loved me, okay?

He wants to represent me.

We... We sat at

my personal booth at Denny's...

for over an hour,

and i told him all about myself.

And now for some reason,

he's not returning my phone calls.

Well, what part ofthat

was too long?

Just tell him Russ Richards called,

okay? Thankyou.

[ Sighs ]

What's happening?

Still not there?

Nah, but, the whole agency

is out for the week.

- A retreat or something.

- What's a retreat?

Oh, I'm not sure,

but I think it's a religious thing.

- Hey, i got great news for you.

- Oh, yeah?

Yeah. Remember my brother's car,

the one that was in a wreck?

For the sake of expediency,

i am going to say yes.

Well, he's finally ready to sell it.

It's all pounded out, repainted,

and ready to go.

Beautiful lime-green finish.

Looks just like a popsicle.

Now, Larry, is there some reason

that I should know this?

Just if you decide the Jag

is too much of an extravagance.

I'm not selling the Jag.

I'd sell my body parts

to South America before that.

Okay. You're the boss.

Yeah, I am the boss.

Here's another news flash for you.

I'm not losing the house either.

You know what you laymen

fail to realize?

It's not about the snowmobiles.

Come on.

It's about the weather, okay?

One cold front,

a little moist air, and bam!

I'm Rockefeller. I'm on Broadway.

I'm doing the cha-cha-cha.

Yeah!

[ Moaning ]

Oh, God!

Oh, whip me forever!

Oh! Oh! Oh!

[ Both Moaning ]

[ Russ Sighs ]

Boy, whew!

That is always such a treat.

Oh, with Dick,

it's like having sex with a sloth.

Don't put that image in my head.

Here. Try this just one time.

- No.

- Yeah, it'll help you relax.

I don't even want a contact high.

It makes me nauseous.

You shouldn't even be smoking it.

You're the lotto girl.

You practically work for the state.

Put it out.

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