Very well.
I certainly appreciate your candor.
- Were you just skyping with a horse?
- Not "a horse," Lemon.
Rafalca, mitt Romney's champion dressage mare.
- Sure.
- She answers yes or no questions
by eating either an apple for "yes,"
or a carrot for "no."
If she eats both, that means
"life is full of unknowable Gray areas."
Remarkable animal.
And thanks to Rafalca, I am now fully briefed
on the Romney campaign's latest setback.
Did you see the news this morning?
- I saw the today show.
So I know how to make an Autumn pizza that your teen will love.
- Paul Ryan dropped out of the race last night.
- What? Wow, why?
- Turns out he was actually born in Kenya.
Not a lot we could say about that one.
- So who's Romney's running mate going to be?
- Rafalca assured me that an announcement would be made
later today, or...
She just wanted to eat an apple.
- And how's tanking NBC going?
Is Hank ready to sell?
- Soon, he'll have no choice.
Sunday night football is just Cleveland browns games.
I'm allowing Jimmy Fallon to use his real voice.
And the greatest band
in late night, the roots.
- And you're certainly doing your part.
Last week's show was excruciating.
- Thank you.
I told the writers there are no bad ideas.
And they really took that to heart.
- Yes, I have a reservation under "black Hitler."
- You know, I could get used to this not caring thing.
- And what about your reproductive efforts?
- Bleh.
Criss and I have been taking the dump truck
to the bone yard most nights.
- Oh, come on. Try to enjoy it, Lemon.
Criss looks like a little elf prince.
- I should get back downstairs.
Show's not going to phone itself in.
- I do have one concern, Lemon.
Elections can be very good for sketch comedy shows.
And the last thing I need is a election year
ratings spike for TGS.
So no political stuff.
- Oh, okay, sure.
We'll just have to rely on observational humor.
Like, um, "table is a weird word."
- Thank you, Lemon.
- And you gotta wonder who came up with the door.
Bunch of cavemen sitting around.
"Hey, Gronk!
"Before we starve to death in here,
"let's make a door!" I, uh...
♪ ♪
- I have been waiting seven years
to tell you people what I really think of you.
- Really?
'Cause you called me "Mr. Clean's gay uncle"
in front of my children.
- This is my first royalty check
for my summer dance jam, "balls."
♪ Balls, balls, balls, balls, balls, balls, balls ♪
♪ balls, balls, balls, balls, balls, balls ♪
♪ balls, balls, balls, balls ♪
In this envelope is my cut of every cd sale,
paid download, music video DVD rental at blockbuster...
- oh, boy. Jenna, you might want to look
at that check before you insult us.
- And maybe you ought to look in the mirror
before leaving your house in the morning,
because you look like someone's been
slowly poisoning Sally Field.
- Alrighty then.
- Read it and weep,
you mouth breathing, vag repellers.
- It's $90, Jenna.
- What? How?
That song was everywhere.
The FBI blamed it for a spike in summer sex crimes.
- Well, the music industry isn't what it used to be.
- Thanks to Al Gore's stupid Internet,
people can just get music for free.
That's why I got out of the music business.
♪ Despite my beautiful singing voice ♪
♪ and my amazing songwriting... ♪
- Hey, Jenna. - Shut up.
- Hey. What are you doing here?
- Oh, just thought I'd pop in.
- No, you damn well didn't.
Lunchtime is when you "pop in."
You've got something else on your mind, son.
Fresh shave, elevated pulse,
Cologne. Mm-hmm.
This man is here to do it on the desk.
- Tracy, you're disgusting.
- No, Liz, he's right. I am.
No, but I'm not being gross. We're trying to have a baby.
And you know how Liz's libido is.
So I'm trying to keep it from being a chore.
That's why I started tracking her menstrual cycle...
- you don't have to prove anything to them.
Just shut your mouth, Criss.
I'm sorry.
You're tracking my cycle?
- I don't want you stressing about it.
So I made this calendar.
I thought you'd like to know that you're ovulating.
And I came here today to...
I don't know, spice things up.
I know, it was stupid.
- No, okay, it's... I get it.
It's... in the office.
It's like I'm Don draper and you're Megan.
Okay, you're Don draper.
No, you're Glen and I'm Sally.
- Hey, this is a system. This is all organized, god.
The post-its are for my ideas and the pens are for my tea.
- Liz, you have to see this.
- Hornberger, what if we'd been having sex?
- Then I would have seen Criss' muscular back.
You think I care?
- The next vice president of the United States,
governor Bob dunston of Alabama.
- Well, okey-dokey-doo, america.
- We gotta have Tracy play this guy on the show.
He looks exactly like him.
- I was thinking we would just lay off the political stuff.
- Liz, he's right.
That guy looks exactly like Tracy.
- Did you guys see? I'm on TV but now I'm old.
Oh, god, Liz Lemon. It's happening to you, too.
- Okay, fine. The guy looks like Tracy.
But what's the joke?
- Ooh, I'm going to have to take a moment here.
I sat on my testicles earlier
and the heft of my body smashed them to smithereens.
- Okay. Start working on the wig.
Ow.
- Oh, Ms. Maroney. I want you to meet my mother...
- I'm going to stop you right there, Kenneth.
I am having an actress side project crisis.
So I'm not interested in whatever this is
and whatever it thinks it's wearing.
- Oh, I can't believe I just met Jenna Maroney.
I was so nervous. I hope I didn't embarrass you.
- You were fine, but your friend Ron
sure doesn't know how to behave around celebrities.
- Oh, oh, I am so sorry, Kenny.
You know the only celebrity I've ever met
was Evel Knievel's motorcycle.
And that was just a picture.
- Oh, I almost forgot.
We got you a little something for your birthday.
- Is that a cd?
You people still buy cds?
Kenneth's mother. O.M.G.
Why haven't you visited us before?
- Well, money's been tight
ever since the market crashed into our house.
My... my name is Ron. I'm Pearline's friend.
I've met celebrities before.
Do you know Evel Knievel's motorcycle picture?
Oh, come on, Ron. I'm better than that.
- I have so many questions to ask you people.
Tomorrow, when we break for lunch,
you are coming to my dressing room and watching me eat.
- Oh, I wonder what she eats.
- Now, I've been very up front about this.
See, that girl was in my car because I was trying
to talk her out of being a prostitute, and she...
- Jack, I have to let Tracy play governor dunston.
- Absolutely not.
- Come on. He looks exactly like him.
Give me a break, Jack.
Listen to this guy.
- Hang on. I'm caught on a nail here.
Okay, now we can continue.
- I can't just ignore dunston, Jack.
Everyone's talking about how much he looks like Tracy.
NBC.com had over 100 hits today.
Exactly.
I'm trying to tank this network.
To that end, I have asked you to lay off politics.
- Uh-huh. But what you really meant
was lay off Republicans, didn't you?
- This is not about politics, Lemon.
In order to save this network, I have to destroy it.
Just like BP did when they heroically tried
to lubricate the Gulf of Mexico.
Now, do not write anything about Bob dunston.
- I promise. I won't write a word.
- Are we better off now than we were four years ago?
Not me.
I now have herpes.
And the Dixie mafia is trying to kill me.
- Hey, elf prince.
What makes you think my last period started on the 29th?
- Because you kept saying your aunt Flo was in town.
- She was. Remember?
I took her to moma and the cloisters?
- I assumed those were all vaginal euphemisms.
- Great. So we had sex for no reason.
No reason at all.
- Wow. Thank you. - Well...
- look, Liz, I know this isn't your... Jam.
Which is why I've been trying to make it fun.
I surprised you at the office, I wrote you that song.
♪ Your body is my garden of Eden ♪
- I hate you.
I'm sorry. I hate you.
Liz, we both want this to happen.
But it's not going to work if it's a chore.
- Yeah, okay. I know.
I have to relax.
And I promise, as soon as I figure out
when I really am ovulating...
- You just spoke in German.
- I don't think so, Criss.
I'm caught on a nail here.
Caught on a nail.
- That was Tracy Jordan having some fun the other night
at the expense of governor Bob dunston.
- Liz, The New York Times called.
George Clooney wants to be on the show.
And you got a gift basket.
- Gift basket?
Pears? Why?
- Lemon, a word.
We had an agreement.
You promised not to write anything about dunston.
- And I didn't.
Every one of Tracy's lines last night
was a direct quote from governor dunston himself.
- I see. Well, bravo.
- You're supposed to say "brava" to a woman.
- Oh, I am well aware of that.
This is a disaster. Ratings are up.
And now, during the election, Hank Hooper wants TGS on
five nights a week, starting tonight.
You are UN-terriblizing this network.
- Wait, I have to do a show every night?
- Uh-huh. Say goodbye to your free time.
Oh, did you hear that?
That's the sound of honey boo boos
piling up on your TiVo. - No!
- Your show is ruining my career.
And besmirching the name of a good American.
Bob dunston is a fine man.
- A-ha. So this is about politics.
I'm sure you'd let us make fun of Joe Biden all we want.
- Oh, but how could you? He's so amazing.
He rides the train.
- Liz.
Dunston's at a county fair and he ate too much chili.
- I'm sorry, Jack. This is bigger than both of us.
- Oh, boy.
When did old Bob dunston swallow all this change?
- Pearline, you must be so proud of Kenneth.
Smell him. That's Jenna Maroney's garbage.
- Oh, he's always been a special boy.
I remember the day he was born. He looked up at me and he said,
"mama, I am not a person.
"My body's just a flesh vessel for an immortal being
whose name, if you heard it, would make you lose your mind."
Do you remember that, honey?
- Oh, we're just all so proud of Kenny.
I tell everyone I meet,
I know a big shot up in New York City.
- Great story, Ron.
- So tell me, what kind of music do you folks like to buy?
- Well, Jenna, you know, times are tough.
And it's not getting any easier
now that obamacare's extending our life expectancy.
Let me die in an emergency room with a treatable disease
like an American.
- But music can let you forget about all that.
Folks like us, we need an escape.
It's just like what Jimmy buffett says.
"I'm just a cheeseburger in paradise."
- Of course, we don't have a stereo anymore,
on account of our mayor, who's a meth addict,
took it apart in a field.
But Ron sings.
He writes his own songs.
- Are they about being a loser?
- Some of them.
But mostly, they're about being on a tropical island,
and sipping some rum,
and feeling the sand between your toes.
- What do you know about any of that, Ron?
- Kenneth Ellen Parcell, mind your manners.
It just so happens Ron and I have been to key west.
- Oh, yes, we have. It was on our honeymoon.
We... oh, my...
Uh-oh.
- You got married? When?
- Seven years ago.
- Look, Ken, I'm just trying to replace your dad...
Oh, dang it.
That's the wrong thing to say, isn't it?
- If you will excuse me, I have to get back to work.
- This is terrible.
I've never gone this long without talking.
- Okay, if we're doing a show tonight,
Tracy needs to do a run-through with the vomit rig.
Props can do 4:00...
- oh, no, I promised Criss I would be home this afternoon.
Yeah, for that.
And get this. Criss wants to make it fun.
How do you make sex fun?
- Well, Paula never opens her eyes.
So what I do is look at a nursing school catalog
I keep under my pillow.
- Ugh.
This five shows a week thing is bonkers.
So, great, let's all figure out when I can have sex.
Okay, what if Jenna did her DVD commentary
while she was getting vajazzled?
Then we could move the prop meeting up.
You know what, we have to look at the whole month.
Ooh, yeah. There it is.
I need to cross-reference this with my menstruations.
Ooh, this is complicated.
I'm going to have to color code all of this.
Tracy will be red, Jenna is Blue,
and I will be green.
Ooh, yeah. That's nice.
This is, um...
Mm, it's getting hot in here.
If I had a column for my basal body temperature,
then I could schedule around peak ovulation.
Right there. Yes, that is the spot.
Oh, god.
This whole thing could be a spreadsheet.
If we print it in landscape, the page will take it all.
Oh, yeah. It'll take it all.
Oh, my god.
- Hi.
Hey! That was ten dollars.
- I think I figured out what's been missing from my sex life.
Organizing it.
- Cooter? Cooter berger?
- Hi, Jack.
I took the Liberty of making myself a drink.
Is that red wine with tonic water and olives in it?
- Yep. It's an old Spanish.
Is that not a thing?
Oh, the guys at the office told me it was a cool drink.
I'm always getting pranked.
Anyway.
Ow.
- So, uh, what have you been up to?
- Well, after 2008, I went back to being a lobbyist.
You know, just hanging out in hotel lobbies.
If you wear a red vest, sometimes people think
you're a valet and you can take a nap in their car.
- Right.
Well, it looks like you're back on your feet.
- And how. You're looking at
the deputy chief of media relations,
Romney-dunston 2012.
Here, have a sticker.
- Cooter, this is a puffy frog with googly eyes.
- Oh, no.
I've been handing those out all day.
Listen, Jack, the reason I'm here...
We need to talk about this whole Bob dunston TGS thing.
- Yes, I'm taking care of that, I assure you.
There will be no more Bob dunston sketches on TGS.
- No, no, no. That's not what we want.
We need you to make fun of dunston as much as possible.
- What? Why?
- Because it's making him likeable.
He's actually very mean.
But with Tracy Jordan playing him...
- he's a lovable buffoon.
- Exactly. Nobody's talking about
the governor's record...
- his re-segregation of the Alabama schools.
His long-time sexual relationship
with the Hank Williams statue outside Montgomery city hall.
- They're just talking about how funny Tracy is.
It's a win-win.
You help us take back the white house.
And you goose NBC's ratings.
- Yes, and I do want NBC to get good ratings.
- Yeah, I know.
Let's keep saying things we want.
A closer friendship with you that includes road trips.
Your turn.
- Jenna?
Can we trouble you for some advice?
- Yes. If you're only in New York
for a few days, find a way to see Amar'e Stoudemire's penis.
It's worth it.
- All right, but we'd like to talk to you about Kenny.
- He won't even speak to me.
- Don, Garlene, I don't have time for this.
I'm trying to write a new album
for the only people who buy records anymore.
Unhappy, middle-aged bummers like you.
This writing is hard.
Wait. You said you write songs.
- Yes, I do, but I'm not a professional like you,
or them bears at showbiz pizza.
- Sing one for me now. For inspiration.
I'm not going to steal it.
But if I do, don't even bother lawyering up.
I'll have my Jews on you so fast,
you'll think you're an Asian girl.
- Well, um, okay.
I wrote this song earlier today, for Kenny.
You know, I just hope someday he realizes...
Okay.
- ♪ There's a picture on my wall ♪
♪ of a boy who's just yea tall ♪
♪ without a daddy, he's in danger ♪
♪ he needs an older male stranger ♪
♪ and when he goes to war ♪
- Okay, I'm going to stop you right there.
Ron, that was terrible.
I'm going to be constructive here.
You should kill yourself.
- No, he should not.
I am sorry, Ms. Maroney, but you don't talk to Ron like that.
- What are you talking about?
I've heard you call Ron a dingleberry.
- Comparing Ron to our inconsiderate neighbors,
the dingleberrys, is something I can do.
But you are not allowed to.
Because you are not... A part of our family.
- That's what family is, Kenneth.
People you badmouth all the time behind their back.
Why, on the train right up here,
I called you a bowling pin with a face drawn on it.
A cheap albino lesbian.
A finger with teeth.
A hummel someone left on the radiator.
- I get it, mom.
- But if anyone else says a word about you, Kenneth,
I don't stand for it.
Do you remember that kid in school who bullied you?
Well, I ate that goat.
Because you and I are family.
And, like it or not, Kenneth, so are you and my husband.
Ronald mcdonnell.
- Oh.
- I think I just got an idea for a song.
It's called "rum-soaked tampon."
Now, what were you guys talking about?
♪ Hey, girl ♪
♪ me and you ♪
♪ hey, baby ♪
♪ this is just more proof ♪
♪ that I am an amazing singer ♪
♪ does this song make you wanna do it? ♪
♪ You're welcome ♪
♪ girl, you're so beautiful ♪
♪ and so is the guy you're with ♪
♪ I just want to lick your face, eeh... ♪
- Hey!
Where you think you are, OfficeMax?
Get out of here, you perverts.
- Two minutes. Two minutes to air.
- Lemon, where have you been?
You have a show to do.
- Don't worry about the show. It's all scheduled.
Look at this. Oh, yeah, mommy like.
- What's wrong with you?
- I've solved my intimacy issues, Jack.
Now that the show is on every night,
everything has to be organized...
- Well, congratulations.
I just want to make sure that
you're doing a Bob dunston sketch tonight.
- Why?
- Because of the, uh, first amendment.
Which I love.
And what you told me earlier.
You convinced me. You win.
- You think I'm an idiot?
I didn't win that argument. I'm an idiot.
- Lemon, what do you want me to say?
You're helping the Romney-dunston ticket, okay?
People like dunston because they like Tracy.
- What? No.
If these sketches are helping Romney,
we're not doing them.
- Yes, maybe that's for the best.
The success of your show is the only thing
keeping Hank from selling NBC.
And if he doesn't sell, I'll spend the rest of my career
in corporate obscurity, like a woman with children.
Damn it.
But if I don't help Romney, it's four more years
of socialism and corporations not being people
and a basketball court at the white house.
- Let me make your choice easy. Jack, it's over.
- Yes, but is it that easy?
You stop doing dunston, TGS goes back to one night a week,
you can kiss goodbye your dusseldorf bus schedule sex.
You'll be having Paris Metro sex.
Long sessions of afternoon love-making, followed by talking
and making circles with your finger in Criss' chest hair.
- No. You can't make me.
- Do the sketch, I help Romney, but I ruin my career.
Cut the sketch, you help Obama, but you screw up your life plan.
It's a win-lose.
- Tracy to the floor for the cold open.
- So what are we going to do?
- Break a leg, tray.
- That shouldn't be hard.
I have a severe calcium deficiency.
- Gwen, I'm glad you brought up my record.
It's called sounds of seduction.
And it's available on iTunes.
There are nine types of legitimate rape.
One... a Halloween party.
Let me ask you a question, sir.
Do you know if this auditorium validates parking?
Our opponent would like you to believe
that mitt Romney is a merman.
Now, I know mitt Romney does not live in the sea.
- Mormon, governor.
- A mormon? Now, that's crazy.