06x13 - Merry Christmas, as*h*le!

[bunniefuu]

♪ Yeah! ♪

♪ Kevin Spencer ♪

♪ Kevin Spencer ♪

♪ Kevin Spencer ♪

[Laughter]

♪ Oh, yeah! ♪

♪ Kevin Spencer ♪

♪ Kevin Spencer ♪

[static noise]

[grunts]

Towel!

Enough!

You're a good kid.

Grab yourself a bundle
out of the wheel barrel.

I know you wanted to get started earlier,

but I figured it would be good for guys

to watch me work out.

Give you a better sense
of what I'm all about.

Sure.

Hello, I'm Greg Lawrence:
the creator of Kevin Spencer.

The best and funniest show
ever made for television.

Every week we got thousands
of letters of fan mail

congratulating us on being fantastic,

and asking how exactly it
is that week after week,

we continue to raise the
bar of quality programming.

At least, I assume that's
what the letters say.

I never actually read them.

Excuse me, your excellency.

I'm sorry for interrupting,

but here's your cappuccino
and gold-plated danish.

Didn't I tell you to
bow before you talk to me?

There's so many new rules, I forgot.

Well, maybe you'll remember

when you're washing my f*cking Bentley!

Be gone!

[crashing sound]

Coward!

Some days I regret rescuing
her from the burning orphanage.

I give, I give, and I give.

Anyway!

Follow me, and I'll give
you a tour of the place.

[sobbing]

[door slams]

[vocalizing and harp playing]

[zipper sound]

[whistling]

You!

The hell are you doing?!

Decorating for the Christmas party?

You told me I had to.

I don't even know who the hell you are.

Howard.

I'm the audio engineer for the show.

I've worked here for quite a few years.

Strange that we've never met.

We have.

Quite a lot.

You know, I have the band Pail-E-D.

I asked you if our band
could be in the show.

You said yes.

That was quite a while ago.

No one cares.

They're making a documentary
about how good the show is,

and how great I am.

Why don't you tag along with him,

and he'll introduce you
to the director, Paul.

After you've done that, Andrew.

Howard.

Sure.

And after you've, done
that, finish up the decorating.

I want this place to look more festive

than Jim J. Bullock on
a Mardi Gras bender.

Okay, by the way, the
director's name is Dave.

Dave Biggalow.

[chuckles] I don't care.

Don't say anything bad about me.

I'm serious.

You bad mouth me, and I'll
destroy your f*cking home life.

[typing]

Howard: Hey Dave!

Greg wants you to show these guys around.

Don't you mean his excellency?

[laughs]

The show's pretty much paint by numbers.

I mean, we're not talking about
award winning, clever humor.

Interviewer: So in your opinion,

the show isn't particularly funny.

In my opinion,

there's only so many ways
to tell the same d*ck joke,

and was wearing thin a long time ago.

What about introducing new writers?

Reworking the creative, expanding
the focus of the series.

Sure.

If Greg didn't spend half the
budget on hookers and drugs,

and whatever else he has to
have to fuel his massive ego.

So who actually writes this show?

The computer behind me.

Let's face it.

The show's pretty much people drinking,

and swearing with the odd flash of nudity

to give the impression
that it's somehow risque.

We've got all that sh*t on file,

so the software pretty much

just randomly stitches
a series of offensive,

and unrelated scenes together, and viola!

We've got a half hour of television.

Watch this.

d*ck.

as*h*le.

sh*t.

f*ck.

c*cksucker.

Bunghole!

Verm.

Clam!

b*stard.

Prick!

Honey butt.

Jesus H!

God damn it!

Son of a b*tch!

[slurred speech]

Scrotum!

Bag licker, snapper, johnson.

f*ckity, f*ck, f*ck.

d*ck, f*ck, son of a wh*re, a*s face.

So if I want a typical
Kevin Spencer scene

in the family kitchen, I
just hit the kitchen button.

Program in family, and viola!

Ah, sh*t!

Shut up, fatty!

Up yours, you useless drunk prick.

I may be drunk and useless,

but at least I ain't useless.

That don't make no sense.

Maybe it makes so much sense,

that it sounds like it doesn't.

Interviewer: Has the
show ever won any awards?

[laughs]

[alarm sounds]

What's going on?

The staff chipped in, and
set up a security system.

We all have these necklaces
with panic buttons.

Code red!

My guess is Greg's hide has
one of the staff cornered.

Happens about once a week.

Staff Member: I didn't
mean nothing by it.

It was an accident!

I didn't realize it was you behind me!

Who the hell else could it be?

Look at these pecs!

Behold my glorious pecs!

My Hair!

Like there could ever be two of me.

It'll never happen again!

I swear!

What now?

Jeremy looked him in the eye!

Right in the eye!

[exclaims]

Stand back!

We're going to have to tranq him!

[screams]

When I first started working for Greg,

he was nothing like his now.

Don't get me wrong, he
was still an as*h*le,

but it's like this.

You've got your assholes,

then you've got your king of the assholes.

In the hierarchy of assholes,
Greg's the guy above the king.

So why do you stay?

Next question.

I really...

[sobbing]

Greg: When I say
hot coffee, I mean hot!

[crashing noise]

I've been with the show
for a few years now.

It's a job.

Quite honestly, we keep hoping,

I mean thinking that the show
isn't going to get renewed,

but-- yes?

Are you Lisa Rungey?

Lisa: What's going on?

Just routine stuff.

Looking into a missing person's report.

Frank Barrell.

He used to work here.

He quit.

Moved somewhere.

[suspenseful music]

Interviewer: Do you
always work this late?

Normally, Greg only makes
us work 15 or 16 hours a day.

The other guys only have to work 14,

but they have seniority.

Is that why you got stuck staying late,

and decorating the office?

Both: No!

We like doing this!

It's an honor.

We're happy to help out Greg
whatever way he wants us to.

So you replaced Frank Barrell.

Did you ever meet him?

Do the other staff ever talk about him?

Why he left?

He went to a happy place.

[sniffles] Everything's good.

We're not supposed to
talk about some things.

Greg doesn't like it.

What's going on?

Nothing your excellency!

Who the hell are you?

Interviewer: We're
making the documentary.

You hired us.

Right!

Hey, you guys want to smoke some crack,

and watch me lift weights?

I really should finish decorating.

I think we're going to call it a day.

f*cking pussies.

Hey remember, tomorrow's Tuesday.

[exclaims]

What was that all about?

Don't ask.

Interviewer: So about the...

Let me guess, a tube top. [chuckles]

We've been putting up with
this sh*t for a year or so.

Greg figured the staff need
something to boost morale.

A lot of companies have casual Fridays,

but leave it up to A-hole to
come up with tube top Tuesdays.

[sighs]

There seems to be a general
air of dislike toward Greg.

No one we have interviewed seems

to be very happy about working here.

[whispers] If lets you out, send help!

What?

I have a family.

I haven't seen my children in three years.

Help us!

Greg: I like your tube top, Mike.

I'm going to start editing right away.

I'll just take the tape
there in the camera.

And Mike, I'd like to
see you in my office.

I was just kidding.

My family's here.

This is all I need.

Helen: So now we just add
the booze, the cigarettes,

and surprise, surprise!

Another scene in strip club
with people getting drunk.

After I finish my portion of the scene,

it shifts over to the assembly department.

Then on to animation.

The show has been
described by some critics

as morally reprehensible.

You're a mother.

Are you ever concerned that
you may be contributing

to a show that could be argued

as having a profound contribution

to the general moral decay of society?

Not anymore.

I've had to sh**t so many horrible things

since I started here,

that now I'm just dead inside.

It's like I don't have a soul anymore.

[sobbing]

Wash it again!

This time wax it right.

Love my car more than you love yourself.

Tears won't save you!

You better not cry in my f*cking car.

The salt of your misery
ain't good for the finish!

Everything going all right fellows?

I'm about to head back to my office

for some Valium and
autoerotic asphyxiation.

You guys want to come with?

Maybe.

We still have some more
interviews with the staff first.

Suit yourself,

but don't hold your breath

waiting for any sparkling insights

from that pack of assholes.

I make the show what it is.

The staff are just a bunch
of f*cking trained monkeys.

Oh hey, everyone!

Thumbs up on the effort.

You're all doing grade A work.

Interviewer: Can you
explain what goes on

in the assembly phase?

Can you explain it out loud?

Using words?

You know if you speak out loud on camera,

you get paid as an actor.

Easy money.

How many words do I
have to say to get paid?

Interviewer: You just said enough.

[scribbling]

Detective: We've
talked to your families.

None of them had heard from you in years.

We're happy here.

What happened to your face?

I fell down skateboarding.

It was a skateboarding accident.

[suspenseful music]

No one's hitting me.

We should get back to work, guys.

Washroom, one hour.

Hey, have you guys seen Mike?

Why?

He was supposed to do a voice session,

but nobody can seem to find him.

[suspenseful music]

We have to do something.

We can't do anything.

He's everywhere.

We can escape.

Impossible.

There's a way out.

We're gonna need time.

We have to make sure Greg is distracted.

The Christmas party.

The place will be packed.

Greg will be a mess.

It won't work.

His tolerance for booze
and drugs isn't human.

Then we've only got one shot at this.

We have to work together to
make sure he takes enough

booze and drugs to pass out.

I'm in.
Me too.

Let's get the rest of
the staff in on it as well.

If we work together,
then maybe, just maybe,

we can get out of this hellhole alive.

Hit him!

I don't want to.

The pain will draw you closer together.

Hit him or I'll sh**t you!

Just hit me.

Get it over with.

[punching sound]

You hit like a f*cking little girl!

You know, if you were Japanese,

and you shamed yourself this much,

You'd do the honorable thing,

and pick up the g*n and k*ll yourself!

Latte!

Your latte, your excellency.

Too slow!

Greg Lawrence doesn't want it anymore.

[sobbing]

Look at you.

You're glorious!

So perfect, you're a perfect man!

Get me some wh*res!

Lots of them!

What's going...
Quiet!

There isn't much time.

Get out while you can.

Use any excuse.

Get the police.

Send help.

He's insane!

Insane in what way?

People don't just quit this job.

We all want to leave,

but we all know what happened
to Frank and the others.

Those detectives suspect something.

Talk to them.

Greg's too smart.

They'll never get out of here.

You're our only hope.

I think you're overreacting.

He's eccentric and a
little volatile, granted.

I hardly think he's going
to kidnap two detectives.

At the risk of offending you,

your staff seems quite unhappy,

and frankly, some have
accused you of horrific abuse.

You think the people that
make Michelangelo's paint

didn't sometimes hate him?

Do you think everyone who
follows Jesus Christ is happy

about all the rules all the time?

Are you comparing yourself to Christ?

Not in the global "I
created the universe" sense,

but comedy, yeah.

You can say I'm the Jesus
Christ of Comedy sent forth

to lead the people to the
promise land of humor.

Those detectives that had been around.

They seem to think you
may have been involved

in the disappearance of one or more

of your former employees.

Hypothetically speaking,

let's say I did m*rder them

because they dared to question my genius.

Sorry to interrupt your excellency,

but the comedy network just phoned.

They're a little worried that
we're 700 percent over budget,

and we haven't even finished

the first episode of the season.

Heretics.

Have my chopper fueled
and ready in ten minutes,

and call a staff meeting so
we can do the Secret Santa.

Sorry fellas, I've got a situation here.

I'd invite you to come along,

but the chopper only seats eight,

and I don't travel without my wh*res.

I'm going to a meeting
for the next couple of hours.

The Christmas party is tonight.

I want this place decorated properly.

Everyone's got their Secret Santa name.

Same rules as last year.

$500 minimum on the gift.

Oh, and my DNA regeneration
machine isn't up running,

so forget what they said on the invites.

The Beatles aren't going
to be playing the party.

Tell that audio guy, Mark.

It's Howard.

Yeah, whoever.

Tell him his band is playing.

Oh, and in case any of you

haven't figured it out for yourselves yet,

those staff flu shots I ordered.

Well, that was a sham.

It wasn't a needle.

It was a small implant
of plastic expl*sives

placed beside your
spinal cord and you neck.

You stay in the building, and we're cool.

Anyone wanders out of signal range,

and your head will explode
like a watermelon dropped

from a 10 story building.

[suspenseful music]

[helicopter whirring]

[exclaiming]

Everything go okay, your excellency?

Of course.

Canadian Television knows

which side it's bread is buttered on.

The whole f*cking country
is riding my coat tails.

Back to the office??

Yeah, I've got a party to go to.

For the record,

if you ever speak to me again
without being spoken to first,

the last thing you will ever see

is me eating your still-beating heart

after I carve it out of
your f*cking insolent chest.

Fly!

[helicopter whirring]

[suspenseful music]

Go now, send help!

Come with us!

We can't!

We'll die.

Hurry for God's sakes, hurry!

[expl*si*n]

[rock music]

Thomison, you said there
was a way out of here.

Now is the time!

We'll die.

You saw what just happened.

Our only hope is that the
two detectives realize

what's going on, and send help.

Oh I forgot to tell you guys.

The two detectives are dead, man.

I saw their bodies in the utility closet.

[groans]

That's just perfect.

Why the hell didn't you
say anything earlier?

I was going to, but
then I got the thing about

hot dogs, all those hot dogs.

Well, you know.

We have to k*ll him.

How?

He's too huge and powerful.

Mentally and physically.

Like Dave suggested earlier,

everyone pretends they're
having a good time at the party.

And we keep pumping him
full of drugs and alcohol.

Sooner or later, he's got to go down.

When he passes out, we k*ll him!

Then what?

Then we send for help.

The expl*sives in our head won't detonate

as long as we stay here.

With Greg out of the way,

we can get someone in
here to disable them.

Then walk away.

If he suspects something,

he'll k*ll us.

He'll k*ll us all eventually anyway.

I'm in.

Collectively: Okay, let's do it!

I'm in, me too!

♪ You make me sick, ♪

♪ and that's out of line! ♪

♪ I think about it every day. ♪

♪ You make me think
that I made a mistake, ♪

♪ But I'm just not built that way. ♪

♪ And I try to help it, ♪

♪ But it seems that I can't. ♪

♪ I just have to do you out ♪
[giggling]

♪ All the pain in world
wouldn't measure out. ♪

♪ It makes me want scream and shout! ♪

Collective: Chug, chug, chug!

Chug, chug, chug!

[eating sound]

♪ I need to catch my breath ♪

[ripping sound]

[rock music plays]

It's not working.

We're almost out of drugs,

and the only booze left is beer!

He can drink beer forever!

Wait a minute!

One of the guys in
Howard's band is diabetic!

So?

[gasps]

Insulin!

A syringe full, and Greg's heart stops.

It's worth a shot!

What do you mean we're out of drugs?!

[slapping sound]

This is a party!

Dig this!

What is it?

Some new designer drug.

All the cool people in
Europe are doing it.

Greg: There are no
cool people in Europe.

Give me that!

[heartbeat thumping]

I'm Greg Lawrence!

I made you what you--

I am the king!

Merry Christmas, as*h*le!

Hey!

That looks like fun!

♪ Yeah! ♪

♪ Kevin Spencer ♪

♪ Kevin Spencer ♪

♪ Kevin Spencer ♪

♪ [Laughter] ♪

♪ Oh, yeah! ♪

♪ Kevin Spencer! ♪