.
Excuse me, Mr. Fontana?
My name's Newton Green.
Can I speak with you a moment?
Sorry, this isn't a good time.
I'm on my way to traffic school.
As it is, I'm going to
have to speed to get there.
I'll make it brief.
I worked on the White House staff
during the Nixon Years.
Mostly on low-level decisions.
I worked under Ehrlichman.
I saw everything.
I knew everything.
Why don't you check with personnel?
They handle all the hiring.
Mr. Fontana?
What I'm trying to say is
I'm Deep Throat.
Right.
And I'm Amelia Earhart.
I got to go.
No, I'm dead serious.
I'm the source who helped
Bob Woodward expose
the Watergate scandal.
I can prove it.
Ask me anything.
How the Committee to Re-Elect worked.
How the plumbers got paid.
Look, Mr. Throat.
If you want to public with this,
why don't you go bother Woodward?
You were his contact.
Woodward?
I would never go to him.
It's been years,
since I gave him the story of his career.
And do you think he ever calls?
Ever writes?
I had gall bladder surgery.
Not a card!
Okay. So let's pretend for a minute
that I believe you're Deep Throat.
Why are you coming clean now?
Everybody else has made a fortune
off of Watergate.
Me, I'm still doing my wash
at a public laundromat.
Now, it's my turn for a little attention.
And you want me to put you on TV,
right?
I get it.
Look, Mr. Fontana,
I didn't expect you to
believe me right away.
Why should you?
But someday, somewhere,
Deep Throat will surface
in a scenario very
much like this one.
And the reporter
that he goes to
will have to make a choice.
Don't wait too long to make
that choice, Mr. Fontana.
I'd hate to see this
turn into something
that just haunts you
for the rest of your life.
Hey, Frank.
Good, you're still here.
How about grabbing a bite to eat?
Uh... I can't.
Maybe another time, all right?
Yeah, another time.
Something's up with you.
The tips of your ears
are all pink.
Come on, Frank.
Out with it.
It's just a reporter's instinct.
The kind of gut feeling
you get maybe once or
twice in your whole career.
But I can't really talk
about it just yet.
Murphy, I may be onto
Deep Throat.
Frank, that's great!
And I'm having dinner
with the Loch Ness Monster!
Think about it.
If you were Deep Throat and
you wanted to surface,
who would you got to?
Oh, you, Frank.
I'd run to you
in a second.
There's one way
to check this out.
What are you doing?
Just a minute.
Bob Woodward, please.
Frank Fontana.
Hi, Bob.
It's been a long time.
Not since that racquetball game.
Bob, I don't think it's
fair to say you beat me.
I had a groin injury.
Listen, Bob.
I got a visit today by some guy.
Does this name ring a bell?
Newton Green.
Bob? You still there?
Good.
So...
Is this guy
Deep Throat?
I see.
So you won't
confirm or deny?
And you've got to run.
Well, thanks, Bob.
I think I've got
everything I need.
Oh, God.
I've got Deep Throat.
Frank,
let me work with you on this.
No way.
This one's all mine.
Come on.
I'll throw you my
Paul McCartney interview.
He'll probably let
you sing with him.
Okay, I'll throw in...
Hi, Frank.
What can I get you?
A beer. And, uh,
some information.
Oh boy,
it never stops.
I just got off the phone
with Ronald Reagan.
He asked me, "Phil,
what do I know about Iran Contra,
and when did I know it?"
Phil, this is important.
I need you to tell me
about Deep Throat.
There are only two people
who know who he is,
and you are one of them.
I'm sorry, Frank.
Woodward swore me to secrecy.
It was a pinky pledge.
How the hell do you
break one of those.
Phil, I have a name.
All I need is a confirmation.
You don't even have
to say yes or no.
Look, this is what we'll do.
I'll say the name
and take two steps
toward that door
If you don't stop me
before I'm out
I'll take that as confirmation.
Okay,
Deep Throat's name
is Newton Green.
I'm turning around.
I'm walking towards the door.
walking...
walking...
walking...
and...
out!
Phil, I was out.
Did you see that I was out?
Yes, you were out.
I saw you were out.
You weren't in.
You were out.
I'm tired of this, Frank.
(Frank whooping)
(Murphy laughing)
The greatest practical
joke of all time!
Frank thinks my furnace
man is Deep Throat!
This is the best snow job
since the Republicans nominated Quayle.
These practical jokes
that you guys
pull on each are
getting out of hand.
Hey, I had to get him
back for the time
he listed my house
in the Washington bed
and breakfast guide.
I couldn't get rid of
that German couple.
Well, I don't like being
put in the middle.
This bar is neutral territory.
But it was good,
wasn't it?
Well, enough gloating for now.
I'd better save some
for when I tell Frank.
When's that?
Tomorrow, I guess.
I want to give him a day
to decide whether
Kevin Costner or
Tom Cruise
should play him in the movie.
Yo, Eldin, I'm home.
Oh, there you are.
Don't step any closer.
I don't want you looking
up my pants.
Now, before you start complaining
about the mess, let me
just say a few things to you.
If you would dust your crown moldings,
like a normal person,
the staining process would
go much faster.
And I'm not even going to ask you
how this Spaghetti-o got up there.
Eldin, I had a great day,
and that's all that matters.
I parked for two hours on
somebody else's quarter,
and I've got Frank stuck
in the greatest practical
joke of all time.
How about we celebrate
with a pizza?
My treat.
This side of you
I haven't seen before.
I'm not going to question it.
People change.
Did you receive a blow
to the head recently?
(knocking)
I'll get the door.
You order the pizza.
Oh, domestic bliss.
I dreamed of this.
Frank. Come on in.
I haven't seen you all day.
I've been running around
like a crazy person,
digging through the archives,
putting together background material
for my Deep Throat story.
You know, Frank,
I've had some big
pieces in my time.
But this...
How does it feel?
Oh, Murph, it feels...
Great!
While I was driving around today,
it hit me.
This story
is going to change my life.
Tell me.
Tell me all about it.
Murphy,
I have been touched
by the hand of God.
He has come to me
to close out the final chapter
of the downfall
of a presidency.
Damn, I envy you.
Well, I was on my way home.
I thought I'd stop by
Look, I'm going to have
to cancel lunch tomorrow.
This story's going to be taking up
so much of my time.
I've had to cancel everything.
I even gave away
my Noriega interview.
What?
Yeah, I gave it to Dan Rather.
There's no way I could do both.
But, gee, Frank, you were so excited
about it.
You spent months setting it up.
You called it the story of the year.
You said that.
Murph,
what is the story of the year,
when you've got
the story of the decade?
...maybe of the century?
Frank, listen to me.
Call Rather.
Get the story back.
Watergate is done.
It's old.
Nixon lives in New Jersey.
Look, Murph.
I've got to run.
I've got a photographer
meeting me in front
of the White House.
I'll see you later.
Look, Dan, if you don't want the box seats,
how about two in the orchestra?
I've got to get Frank's story back.
What do you mean, I'm unreasonable?
You won't take the tickets.
You won't take the
time-share in Aspen.
How the hell am I unreasonable?
Your wife fantasizes
about Peter Jennings.
Ta-da!
What do you think?
The new and improved Frank Fontana.
I figure, once my story hits
I'm good for the cover of
Time, Newsweek, and now, GQ.
See, the hand stays in the pocket.
It's all part of the look.
Frank.
Sit down.
I have to tell you something.
It's the pocket hanky, right?
It makes me look like a sissy?
Frank.
I was going to tell you something
that was going to give me
a great deal of pleasure.
The kind of thing
we tell our grandchildren about.
And then a funny thing happened.
You gave away your
Noriega interview.
Murphy, there's a tone in your voice,
kind of a sickening tone.
Frank.
The man who said
he was Deep Throat isn't.
I set it all up.
The whole thing.
Woodward. Phil.
Everything.
Why?
It was a joke.
You know, funny.
The kind of thing we
always do to each other.
A joke.
A joke?
This was a joke?
Okay, you have every right to be mad.
So, go ahead.
Yell at me.
Oh, no. Not fair.
You gotta say something.
One moment, Mrs. Thatcher.
Oops.
Frank, can we talk
about this, please?
Frank.
Murphy. Frank. What is it?
Frank doesn't have Deep Throat.
It was just a practical joke.
A dumb, idiotic gag.
And it backfired.
And Frank, I'm sorry.
Oh, you're sorry?
Well, I'm sick of these childish pranks.
I thought you might have
learned something
after poor Earl
in the mail room
lost his eyebrows.
It's awful!
Now, when he's surprised,
nobody can tell.
Frank.
I blew it.
I'm sorry.
I know that.
I promise I'll never pull
this kind of thing on you again.
Swear it!
Okay, I will.
You're all my witnesses.
I will never pull another stunt
on Frank Fontana again.
I swear it.
(mockingly):
I swear it.
I swear it.
(laughing)
You knew?!
You knew,
and you let me suffer?
Oh, for the love of Mike!
What's next?
Soaping the windows at the Pentagon?
You babies.
I swear.
Pretty good come back.
When'd find out?
Oh, right away.
Two phone calls, and I was onto you.
Oh, there was a Newton Green
in the Nixon White House
but he found God in '
and is now raising turnips in a
commune outside Santa Fe.
Oh, come on, now,
don't get down on yourself.
I was just returning your serve.
What do you say?
We call a little cease fire on this one?
You got yourself a truce.
There you are, Frankie.
My man.
My guy.
I was just up in Kinsella's office.
We were talking about
your Deep Throat story.
You told Kinsella?
Yesterday.
He actually did a little dance.
Then he called New York.
They went nuts.
We're talking major ad campaign.
Total media blitz.
Frank-o.
We are hot.
We are scoring major points
with the boys upstairs.
You went to Miles
with this gag?
What happened, Sherlock?
I thought you saw through it right away.
Okay, so it took me a little while!
Guys?
I'm hearing words
I don't like.
Words like...
gag...
and saw though it.
Bad words.
Miles,
The Deep Throat story is bogus.
I set it all up to get Frank.
But you said you had confirmation.
You said you had a story.
I said I thought I had confirmation.
I said we had to proceed carefully.
Sure, but you said it
jumping up and down in my office,
singing the theme to Chariots of Fire.
Gene Kinsella has a
terrific sense of humor.
... probably.
Well, I guess I'll go tell him the hilarious news.
Maybe he'll share it with Rune Arlege,
who he called at am
to tell we were going to kick
ABC's butt at the Emmy's.
I was just on a
conference call to New York.
I was chatting with
the Chairman of the Board.
He invited me
for drinks
next summer
on his yacht.
the SS -share.
I was going to have my own cabin.
He called me Miles Super-berg.
How'd it go?
Okay?
They yelled at me.
Shepherd, Kauffman, Radkoff.
Everyone with a corner office
came in to yell at me.
Then they asked me to leave the room.
They said they had to
discuss the matter privately.
All: Ooh.
Miles, it probably doesn't mean anything.
They were just testing you
to see if you could take the pressure.
And how am I doing?
Hey...
You're doing just fine, buddy.
Miles!
Good afternoon.
I suppose my visit
isn't a complete surprise.
So...
Gene, I guess we goofed.
Silverberg, I'd like to
speak to you privately
No, Mr. Kinsella,
These are my people.
They're like family.
Anything you have to say to me
you can say right here, in front of them.
Well, okay.
Silverberg, we're terminating your contract.
What?!
No, you can't.
I want you all to understand
that we didn't make this
decision easily.
but the executive committee feels
that this sort of public embarrassment
is a symptom of immature leadership.
you have until the end of tomorrow
to pack up you office.
Do something.
Gene. Listen to reason.
It's not Miles' fault.
It's ours.
Frank's and mine.
If anyone should be fired,
it's us.
... or severely reprimanded.
I can't fire you two.
You're talent.
The network's bread and butter.
But someone has to pay the piper.
I'm sorry.
Is Murphy in?
Not yet.
But she just called from her car.
She said she's blocks away,
and she'll be here in a few minutes.
Or she's a few blocks away,
and she'll be here in minutes.
Silverberg,
you're still here?
I just stopped down to say
goodbye to Murphy and Frank.
Yes, well, make it brief.
They're not in yet.
Murphy was on my answering
machine all night last night
pleading your case.
I know.
Suckers!
They really fell for it.
The whole thing.
The meeting upstairs,
the conference call
with the Chairman of the Board
Silverberg, you're a genius.
No, no, no.
Genius is going too far.
Yes, okay, genius.
I hope they like a
taste of their own medicine.
When are you going to tell them?
I thought I'd let them walk
me out of the building
before I sprung it on them.
I might even start to drive away.
I've been practicing
a backward wave.
Silverberg, you've
got a lot of gall
asking me for a
letter of reference.
Brownie.
Frank.
Hey, Miles.
Hey, buddy.
Just came by to
pick up my mug.
I love my mug.
Look, Murphy,
there's that chip from the
time you threw it at me.
I'll keep this forever.
Miles
I feel so bad about what happened
to you yesterday.
Just standing there
watching Kinsella fire you,
we felt we had to do something.
Jim, Corky,
we want you to see this, too.
I know it's small
in comparison to what happened to you,
but Frank and I felt it was important
to make some sort of public statement.
So we wrote an open
letter to journalists,
at this network and everywhere.
We had it put in
the Wall Street Journal.
Oh.
Dear colleagues,
Yesterday, Miles Silverberg was let go
was let go as
Executive Producer of F.Y.I.
The fact that the
incident leading up
to this action was a
harmless misunderstanding
has made us painfully aware that
image is becoming more important
than substance in
broadcast journalism.
The short-sighted and egotistical
Chairman of the Board
and his executive hatchet men
are sending a clear message
that it is no longer
the quality of your work
as a journalist by which
you will be judged.
Miles, we extend our
hearts in friendship
and our voices
in solidarity.
Murphy Brown. Frank Fontana.
It was a joke.
What?
What joke?
I was never really fired.
I overheard Frank telling Dan Rather
how he was going to
get even with Murphy.
I wanted to teach
you two a lesson.
This is terrific.
The Wall Street Journal.
million of the most
influential readers in America.
This is some lesson professor.
You better keep
this letter handy.
Because after Kinsella reads it,
I really will be fired.
You'd better sit down, Miles.
It gets worse.
How much worse can it get?
I still have payments
left on the BMW.
Silverberg duped.
If ,
I'd k*ll you.
Mess with the big boys, Miles ...
Just be glad we didn't
take your milk money.
We got him but good.
If we had a barn,
I swear I'd take you out there
and tan your behinds.
You two are like
a bad pair of shoes.
I don't know how,
but you are.
Enough is enough, is enough.
Nah, it's never enough.
Let's talk about it a lot
and relive every moment.
Okay.
Ms. Brown?
I'm doing the filing,
like you asked,
Do you want me to file
a copy of the letter?
What letter?
The one to The Wall Street Journal.
What?
I didn't ...
Where's the real letter?
The original. Where?
I saw it on your desk last night,
so I took it to the mail room.
They fell for it!
Did you see them take off?
Like a herd of flemings in the sea.
Poor fellas.
I can almost feel sorry for them.
Nah, not in this lifetime.
I think we've finally cured them
of their stupid practical jokes.
And you...
You were very convincing.
I almost believed
you sent that letter.
Now I'm confused.
Didn't you want me
to send the letter?
Because it's going out
on the truck right now.
The stairs!
It's all your fault.
I never wanted to do this.
Morons.
Ha, ha, ha!