Episode
107 - The Fusilli Jerry
pc:
619, season 6, episode 21
Broadcast
date: April 27, 1995
Written
by Marjorie Gross
Story
by Marjorie Gross & Jonathan Gross and Ron Hague & Charlie
Rubin
Directed
by Andy
Ackerman
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The
Cast
Regulars:
Jerry
Seinfeld ....................... Jerry Seinfeld
Jason
Alexander .................. George Costanza
Julia
Louis-Dreyfus ............. Elaine Benes
Michael
Richards ................. Cosmo Kramer
Guest
Stars:
Marla
Sucharetza ................. Nancy
Lou
Cutell ............................ Dr. Cooperman
Yvette
Cruise ....................... Clerk
rc:
Estelle Harris ................... Estelle Costanza
rc:
Jerry Stiller ...................... Frank Costanza
rc:
Patrick Warburton ......... David
Puddy
==================================================================
[Opening
Scene: Jerry and Elaine are outside, heading towards the apartment
building]
JERRY:
I hear you're going out with David Putty.
ELAINE:
Yeah. What, is it a problem?
JERRY:
Well, I think he could've asked me. Supposed to be a friend of
mine.
ELAINE:
Well, I guess he figured you just wouldn't care. It *has* been a few
years.
JERRY:
Elaine, you always care who an ex-girlfriend dates. You don't want it
to be someone you know, and you don't want it to be someone better
than you. Now, even though the latter is *obviously*
impossible.
ELAINE:
Oh, god.
JERRY:
The former still applies. I don't know what it is, but I just can't
see you with a mechanic.
ELAINE:
Oh, yeah. Right, right. Well, all those mechanics do is work all day
with their hands and their *big*, *muscular* arms on machines, and
then they come home dripping with animal sexuality like Stanley
Kowalski. What a huge turn-off that is.
JERRY:
All right.
[At
Monk's, George and Estelle are looking over their menus]
GEORGE:
Look at that. They got lobster on the menu. Who would order a lobster
here. I mean, do they bring a lobster in everyday hoping *todays* the
day.
ESTELLE:
So what if they have a lobster. Suddenly you're a shell-fish
connoisseur.
GEORGE:
You know, I think we really need to be in front of a television set.
You take T.V. out of this relationship, it is *just*
torture.
ESTELLE:
So, I'm getting an eye job.
GEORGE:
An eye job? Ma, you don't need an eye job.
ESTELLE:
Georgie, I'm a divorcee.
GEORGE:
No, you're not a divorcee. Youÿre just separated. You're---you're a
separatee.
ESTELLE:
Well, I'm out there, George.
GEORGE:
No, you're not out there.
ESTELLE:
I am, too!
GEORGE:
You're not out there! You can't be, because *I* am out there. And if
I see *you* out there, there's not enough voltage in this world to
electroshock me back into coherence!
ESTELLE:
Well, anyway, the operation is on Tuesday and I need you to drive me
home because I'll be all drugged up.
GEORGE:
Tuesday? I can't do it Tuesday. Steinbrenner needs me to
run---
ESTELLE:
This is the only time the doctor *has*.
(Kramer
walks by their table on his way out)
GEORGE:
Kramer, hey, hey! (Gets up out of his seat)
KRAMER:
Hi, little buddy.
GEORGE:
Come on over and sit down.
KRAMER:
Hey, listen, I gotta go somewhere.
GEORGE:
No, you're gonna sit down, you son of a gun...
KRAMER:
All right, I'm sitting down. How are you? (Kisses Estelle on the
cheek)
ESTELLE:
So, Kramer. I'm getting an eye job.
KRAMER:
Oh, yeah, good for you. Hey, you have to look your best. You're out
there now.
GEORGE:
She's not out there!
KRAMER:
So, who is your doctor?
ESTELLE:
Uh, Bakersoll.
KRAMER:
(whistles). He's good. He's *very* good. He worked on this kid from
Guatemala with no nose. Turned him into Ricardo Montalban.
GEORGE:
Hey, Kramer, what are you doing Tuesday?
KRAMER:
Tuesday? Uh...
GEORGE:
Why doesn't *he* pick you up after the operation. He's got the car
with the bench seats that you like.
ESTELLE:
Oh, I don't care.
KRAMER:
Yeah, I know, but I can't drive anybody anywhere until I go down to
the motor vehicle bureau and get my new plates.
GEORGE:
Well, giddy-up!
[At
the motor vehicle bureau...]
KRAMER:
Yeah, I'm here to pick up my new plates. My name is Kramer. Cosmo
Kramer.
CLERK:
Kramer.... (checks computer) All right...
KRAMER:
All righty...
CLERK:
Sign right here, please. (hands over clipboard)
KRAMER:
(signs it) Okay. (The clerk hands him a manila envelope). Thanks.
(opens up the envelope) Assman? Oh, no, these don't belong to me. I'm
not the Assman. I think there's been a mistake.
CLERK:
What's your name again?
KRAMER:
Cosmo Kramer.
CLERK:
(checks computer again) Cosmo Kramer. You *are* the Assman.
KRAMER:
No! I'm not the Assman.
CLERK:
Well, as far as the state of New York is concerned, you
are.
(Failing
to clear up the mistake, Kramer drives off with the new plates
attached)
[Meanwhile,
we join Elaine and David---in bed, I should add. David, who
apparently looks satisfied, is still breathless. Elaine, on the other
hand, is looking somewhat, preoccupied]
DAVID:
How do you feel?
ELAINE:
Fine.
DAVID:
Something the matter?
ELAINE:
No.
DAVID:
Then what is it?
ELAINE:
No, nothing.
[Later
on, at Monk's, Jerry has just come in to meet Elaine. He joins her at
the booth]
JERRY:
Hi.
ELAINE:
I was with David *Putty* last night.
JERRY:
Yeah, so.
ELAINE:
He did the move.
JERRY:
What move?
ELAINE:
You know...*the* move.
JERRY:
Wait a second. *My* move?
(Elaine
nods).
JERRY:
David Putty used *my* move?
ELAINE:
Yes, yes.
JERRY:
Are you sure?
ELAINE:
Jerry! There is no confusing *that* move with any other move.
JERRY:
I can't believe it. He *stole* my move.
ELAINE:
What else did you tell (reaches over to slap Jerry) him. (does it
again) The two of you must have had *quite* a little chat!
JERRY:
Oh, it wasn't like that! I didn't even mention you. You know, we were
in the garage. You know how garages are. They're conducive to sex
talk. It's a high-testosterone area.
ELAINE:
Because of all the pistons and the lube jobs?
JERRY:
Well, I'm going down to that garage and telling him to stop doing
it.
ELAINE:
Well, wait---wait a second.
JERRY:
What?
ELAINE:
Isn't that a little...rash?
JERRY:
No! He stole my move!
ELAINE:
Yeah, but...*I* like the move.
JERRY:
Yeah, but it's like another comedian stealing my material.
ELAINE:
Well, he doesn't even do it exactly the same. He--he--he uses a pinch
at the end instead of the *swirl*!
JERRY:
Oh, yeah. The pinch. *I've* done the pinch. That's not new. Besides
which, I don't know how you could trust any of his moves now. His
whole *repertoire* could be lifted.
ELAINE:
You know, it's strange, because he's such an honest mechanic.
JERRY:
I know, he's probably the only honest mechanic in New
York.
[Later,
Jerry and George are outside, where Jerry has just bought a candy bar
at the newsstand]
JERRY:
...so he stole my move and he's using it on Elaine.
GEORGE:
You told David Putty your move and you didn't tell *me*? I *need* a
move. You know I have no moves, Jerry. (points to the candy bar)
Gimme a bite.
JERRY:
Can I just get it opened first?
GEORGE:
I can't believe you're hoarding sex moves. I'm out there rubbing two
sticks together. You walk around with a zippo.
JERRY:
All right, all right. Here. (hands George a piece of the candy
bar).
GEORGE:
(takes a bite) Oh, that's good. That's very good.
JERRY:
You feel better?
GEORGE:
Yeah, much better. All right, so what's the move, because I need
*something*. This woman I'm dating, it's like she's doing her nails
during love-making.
JERRY:
Nancy Klopper?
GEORGE:
Yeah. Never seen anyone so bored. I'm working like a dog here. Give
me a moan. *Something*. I'd settle for a belch, for god's sake. All
right, come on, let's have it.
JERRY:
All right, George. I'm gonna tell you. But I just wanna make sure,
before---
GEORGE:
Yeah, yeah, yeah. It's in the vault. I'm putting it in the
vault.
JERRY:
It's not even a question of that. The point is when something like
this is passed along, one must be certain that it's going to be used
in a *conscientious* way. This is not some parlor trick to be
used---
GEORGE:
You're gonna tell me...or not.
JERRY:
All right. On your bed. You got a headboard? You'll need a
headboard.
GEORGE:
I got a headboard.
JERRY:
Is it padded?
GEORGE:
No.
JERRY:
Good. How tall is she?
GEORGE:
Five-foot four. Why?
JERRY:
You can't have more than a one-foot differential in your heights.
Otherwise, you could really hurt your neck.
GEORGE:
I can't tell ya how much I appreciate this.
JERRY:
George, if you could master this, you'll never be alone
again.
[Back
at Jerry's apartment: Jerry and George have just walked in, still
conversing on the same subject]
JERRY:
Now, the ending is kind of an option. I use the swirl. I like the
swirl. I'm comfortable with the swirl. *I* feel the swirl is a great
capper. He uses the pinch, which I find a little
presumptuous.
GEORGE:
Is it a clockwise swirl?
JERRY:
I prefer clockwise, but it's not written in stone.
(Kramer
enters, holding an object of some kind).
KRAMER:
Here you go, buddy. (shows it to Jerry).
JERRY:
What is it?
KRAMER:
*Fusilli* Jerry! It's made from Fusilli pasta. See the
microphone?
JERRY:
When did you do this?
KRAMER:
In my spare time. (turns to George). You know, I'm working on one of
you, George. I'm using ravioli. See, the hard part is to find a pasta
that captures the individual.
JERRY:
Oh... Why Fusilli?
KRAMER:
Because *you're* silly. Get it? (hands the Fusilli to Jerry)
Yeah...
JERRY:
Well, thank you very much.
GEORGE:
So, did you get your new plates?
KRAMER:
Oh...yeah. I got my new plates. But they mixed them up. Somebody got
mine and I got their *vanity* plates.
GEORGE:
What do they say?
KRAMER:
Assman.
JERRY:
Assman?
KRAMER:
Yeah. Assman, Jerry. I'm Cosmo Kramer, the Assman!
JERRY:
Who would order a license plate that says "Assman"?
GEORGE:
Maybe they're Wilt Chamberlain's.
JERRY:
It doesn't have to be someone who gets a lot of women. It could be
just some guy with a big ass.
KRAMER:
Yeah, or it could be a proctologist.
JERRY:
Yeah. Proctologist.
GEORGE:
Come on! No doctor would put that on his car.
KRAMER:
Have you ever *met* a proctologist? Well, they usually have a very
good sense of humor. You meet a proctologist at a party, don't walk
away. *Plant* yourself there, because you will hear the funniest
stories you've ever heard. See, no one wants to admit to them that
they *stuck* something up there. Never! It's always an accident.
Every proctologist story ends in the same way: "It was a million
to one shot, Doc. Million to one."
(A
phone rings in the distant)
KRAMER:
Oh! There's my phone. (He leaves)
GEORGE:
So, where you gonna stick this (points to the Fusilli Jerry)
JERRY:
I'll tell you where I'd like to stick it.
[We
cut to the garage where David Putty is working on a car. Jerry walks
in]
JERRY:
Hey, David.
DAVID:
Oh, hi, Jerry.
JERRY:
Hey, what's the story? I hear you're doing my move.
DAVID:
What move?
JERRY:
What move? *My* move. The one I told you about. You used it on
Elaine.
DAVID:
You're move? What, are you kidding? I was doing that before I knew
you. All you told me about was the ending.
JERRY:
The ending is the whole thing. Without the ending, it's nothing. You
had *nothing*.
DAVID:
Oh, that ending was *so* obvious. I would have figured it out anyway.
I didn't need you to tell me that stupid twist.
JERRY:
Swirl.
DAVID:
Whatever. I don't even do it.
JERRY:
Oh, yeah, I know. You do the *pinch*.
DAVID:
Yeah, that's right.
JERRY:
You can't come up with your own stuff , so you *steal* other peoples?
You're nothing but a hack.
DAVID:
Are you through, 'cuz, uh, I gotta get back to work.
JERRY:
Well, I'll tell you what I'll do, you know. If you wanna do it out of
town...okay. But not in the city.
DAVID:
All right, how about the next time your car breaks down, you take
*that* out of town.
JERRY:
Fine.
DAVID:
Good!
[While
driving, Jerry hits a pothole and his car is now making a clanking
noise]
[We
join George and Nancy, who are....getting busy under the
covers.]
NANCY:
Ow, George! (crawls out from beneath the covers) What are you
doing?
GEORGE:
(pops his head out of the covers, looking a bit confused) Uh...you
know, uh...pleasuring you.
NANCY:
Well, stop it!
GEORGE:
You don't like the move?
NANCY:
No. I don't.
GEORGE:
You're kidding.
NANCY:
No, I'm not. It feels like aliens poking at my body.
GEORGE:
Sorry. I'll just go back to my usual routine.
[Back
to Elaine and David in the middle of, uh...you know...]
ELAINE:
Oh, god! Oh, god, Dave! Oh, yes! Yes!
DAVID:
No, I'm sorry.
ELAINE:
What?!!
DAVID:
I can't do the move.
ELAINE:
What?
DAVID:
Oh, he's ruined it for me.
ELAINE:
Oh, oh, come on, please?
DAVID:
No, he called me a hack. I'm just not into doing it anymore.
ELAINE:
Oh, so---so that's it?
DAVID:
I'll come up with some new stuff.
[Cut
to Kramer heading towards his car. He picks up a note on his
windshield and reads it...]
KRAMER:
"Call me. Thirty-six, twenty-four, forty-six. I think I have
what you're looking for." (Pleased by the note, Kramer stumbles
into his car).
(Meanwhile,
Estelle is at Dr. Bakersoll's office)
DR.
BAKERSOLL: I must caution you about one thing. You can't cry for at
least ten day. You can ruin the operation.
ESTELLE:
Oh, okay.
DR.
BAKERSOLL: Now, is someone coming to pick you up?
ESTELLE:
Yes, my son's friend should be here any minute.
[In
the parking lot just outside, Kramer has pulls into a "Doctors
Only" space]
SECURITY
GUARD: Can I help you?
KRAMER:
Ah, yeah. Doctor Cosmo Kramer. (points to plate)
Proctology.
SECURITY
GUARD: Oh, oh, okay. Sure...
KRAMER:
Thanks. Have a good day.
[Kramer
is driving Estelle home]
KRAMER:
I just can't get over how fantastic you look.
ESTELLE:
Oh, really?
KRAMER:
Oh, yeah. This takes twenty years off.
ESTELLE:
And it was all done by laser. I don't even need bandages.
(As
a car passes Kramer, someone yells out, "Yo, Assman! Look at the
Assman!" Kramer waves).
ESTELLE:
Did he say "Assman"?
KRAMER:
Oh, yeah.
ESTELLE:
Oh my goodness.
(Another
car passes: "Hey, the Assman's in town!")
KRAMER:
You got that straight!
ESTELLE:
Boy. I never dreamed it could make such a difference.
(Kramer
makes a sudden stop, and in a protective gesture, he sticks his arm
out in front of Estelle.)
[Back
to Jerry's apartment]
JERRY:
You must have done *something* wrong. You probably screwed up the
order. Did you close with the swirl?
GEORGE:
Supposed to close with the swirl?
JERRY:
Oh my god. Yes, you close with the swirl. There's a progression
there. I told you to write it down.
GEORGE:
Yeah, yeah, should've written it down.
(Bzzz.
Jerry walks over to answer it)
JERRY:
Yeah?
BUZZER:
Elaine.
JERRY:
C'mon up. (turns to George) You know what? Do me a favor. Don't even
do the move anymore. You're gonna give it a bad name.
(The
phone rings)
JERRY:
Hello? Yeah, this is Jerry Seinfeld. What? Twenty-eight hundred
dollars?!! That's the estimate on my car?!! No, don't even do
anything. I'm gonna think about it. Okay, bye.
GEORGE:
What's to think about? If Putty says it's what it is, it's what it
is. He's not gonna cheat you.
JERRY:
Except that it's not Putty.
GEORGE:
What happened to Putty?
JERRY:
Eh, we had a little fight about the move. I took her to this other
place. I think they might be trying to screw me.
GEORGE:
Well, of course they're trying to screw you. What do you think?
That's what they do. They can make up anything. Nobody knows. "By
the way, you need a new Johnson rod in there." "Oh, a
Johnson rod. Yeah, well, you better put one of those on."
(Elaine
comes in looking a bit peeved)
JERRY:
Hey, Elaine.
ELAINE:
Yeah, yeah, hello.
JERRY:
Is it something I said?
ELAINE:
Yes! As a matter of fact! David Putty won't do the move
anymore.
JERRY:
Really?
ELAINE:
Oh, he's come up with some other move. You should see this
thing.
JERRY:
What is it?
ELAINE:
Oh, it's a lot of just fancy-shmancy stuff. You know what it's like?
It's like a big budget movie with a story that goes
*nowhere*.
JERRY:
Huh.
ELAINE:
I mean, this move is no good, Jerry. It's just taking up a lot of my
time. And I...will not stand by and allow him to perform this move on
me, when a perfectly good move is just sitting in the barn doing
nothing!
GEORGE:
Let me ask you a question. This new move. Is there a knuckle involved
in any way?
ELAINE:
Yes. As a matter of fact, there is.
GEORGE:
I think that's mine.
ELAINE:
I'm not surprised.
JERRY:
Listen. I need you to do me a favor. When's the next time you're
gonna see him?
ELAINE:
Why?
JERRY:
You gotta get an estimate on my car from him. I think this garage is
trying to screw me.
ELAINE:
An estimate? How am I supposed to do that?
JERRY:
Well, look. Here's the work order with everything that broke. Just
kind of bring it up at the right time and find out. (hands Elaine the
work order)
ELAINE:
(takes the work order and points to the Fusilli Jerry sitting on the
table) What? What is this?
JERRY:
That's, uh, Fusilli Jerry.
ELAINE:
Fusilli Jerry?
JERRY:
Yeah. Kramer made it.
GEORGE:
All right, listen, I'll see you guys later.
(As
George is leaving, Kramer comes in with a female companion)
JERRY:
Hey, Assman!
KRAMER:
Hey, well, this is Sally.
SALLY:
Hello.
JERRY:
Hi.
ELAINE:
Hi.
KRAMER:
Shall we go?
SALLY:
Okay. (turns around and walks out with an exaggerated swing of her
hips)
(Elaine,
Jerry, and George make a face)
[Back
at the Costanzas' house...]
ESTELLE:
You can't face the fact that I'm improving myself.
FRANK:
You're not the only one improving yourself. I worked out with a
dumbbell yesterday. I feel *vigorous*.
ESTELLE:
Just take your mail and go home. I have things to do.
FRANK:
I got things to do, too.
ESTELLE:
Don't upset me! I can't cry!
FRANK:
Getting an eye job like some Manhattanite, huh?
ESTELLE:
Well, it's already working. Kramer made a pass at me.
FRANK:
Kramer made a pass at you? You're crazy.
ESTELLE:
I'm not crazy. He stopped short and made a grab.
FRANK:
He stopped short? That's my move. I'm gonna kill him!
[Once
again, we join Elaine and David...in bed as usual...doing what they
do best]
ELAINE:
Hey, let me ask you a question.
DAVID:
Sure.
ELAINE:
What do you charge for blown shocks?
DAVID:
What?
ELAINE:
Two, three hundred?
DAVID:
I don't know. Maybe five hundred.
ELAINE:
Ah.
(They
go back to kissing)
ELAINE:
What about a bad gasket?
DAVID:
Bad gasket?
ELAINE:
Yeah. Like a terrible gasket.
DAVID:
What is all this?
ELAINE:
Nothing, nothing. I'm just taking an interest in what
you...do.
DAVID:
What kind of car is it?
ELAINE:
Oh...any kind of---of a Swedish car.
DAVID:
All together, that could run about sixteen hundred.
ELAINE:
Oh.
(Kiss
again)
ELAINE:
Is that with the parts and labor?
DAVID:
Uh-huh.
ELAINE:
Hmm.
(Kiss...again)
ELAINE:
Oh, no. No, David. No, please. Not the knuckle....
[Back
to George and Nancy in bed. George is looking quite pleased with
himself. Nancy, on the other hand, looks...bewildered...pleasantly
surprised...]
NANCY:
Wow. That was...*great*. I mean...*wow*.
GEORGE:
It just came to me.
NANCY:
I---I've never in my life have---have I---. What was that?
GEORGE:
You mean in the end?
NANCY:
Uh-huh.
GEORGE:
A counter-clockwise swirl.
(Spotting
something on George's hand)
NANCY:
What's that?
GEORGE:
What?
NANCY:
On---on your hand? Let me see what's on your hand.
GEORGE:
Nothing. I don't know...just a little dirt.
NANCY:
Give me that. (grabs his hand) I wanna see what's on your
hand.
(They
struggle for a bit, but Nancy finally gets a hold of his hand and
tries to make out the scribble)
NANCY:
Number one. Take her leg.... Oh, my god! Crib notes? You've got crib
notes?!!
GEORGE:
It's a very complicated move! I couldn't remember it all.
NANCY:
Oh, my god, you're sick. (gets out of bed)
GEORGE:
You know, it's not the S.A.T.s!
[Cut
to Frank on the streets. He spots Kramer's car. He looks inside the
back window and sees the "Bro"---or is it the "Manssierre"?
He checks out the plates]
FRANK:
Assman? I'll get him, Assman!
(Back
to Jerry's apartment)
JERRY:
Sixteen hundred dollars? That's all? *Ooh*, they are ripping me
off.
ELAINE:
So what are you going to do?
JERRY:
Well, that's it. I'm going back to Putty. No move is worth
this.
ELAINE:
Oh! You mean you don't care if he does the move anymore?
JERRY:
Are you kidding? He can do every move I've ever done! Do you know
what a good mechanic is worth? You can't compare that to
sex.
(There's
a knock at the door and Jerry goes over to answer it)
JERRY:
Hi, Mr. Constanza. What's uh...?
FRANK:
Where's your friend Kramer?
JERRY:
I don't know. Why?
FRANK:
Because I'm looking for him. That's why. He stopped short.
JERRY:
What do you mean?
FRANK:
In a car, with my wife. He stopped short. You think I don't know what
that's about? That's my old move! I used it on Estelle forty years
ago! I told everybody about it! Everybody knows! (Demonstrates)
Hmmph! I stopped short.
JERRY:
Really, stopping short. That's a good move.
FRANK:
You're not kidding it's a good move!
(Kramer
walks in.)
KRAMER:
Hey.
JERRY:
Hey.
KRAMER:
Hey, Frank.
FRANK:
Don't Frank me! I know what you did. How dare you stop short with my
wife!
KRAMER:
C'mon, Frank, relax. I don't even know what you're talking
about.
(Frank
backs Kramer into the table, knocking the Fusilli Jerry to the
floor)
FRANK:
You think I don't know, Assman?!! To think I almost split the profits
on the Manssierre with you.
KRAMER:
Bro.
FRANK:
Manssierre!
KRAMER:
Bro!
FRANK:
Manssierre! You...!
(Frank
grabs Kramer by the collar and in doing so, he slips and falls right
on top of the Fusilli Jerry)
FRANK:
Aah!!!
JERRY:
Oh, my god!
(Everyone
gasps in horror, including George, who was just walking in at that
very moment)
[At
the medical center, the gang is in the waiting room, waiting for the
word on Frank's condition. Looks like they're still in shock
JERRY:
If I wasn't there, I wouldn't have believed it.
ELAINE:
Me either.
GEORGE:
They say this guy's the best.
JERRY:
He had to use cork-screw pasta.
(At
that thought, Jerry, George, and Elaine shift uncomfortably in their
seats. Meanwhile, Kramer is checking out the pictures on the wall. He
spots something...)
KRAMER:
Jerry. Jerry, come here. Take a look at this.
(Jerry
joins him)
KRAMER:
The name on the boat. Look at it.
JERRY:
Assman!
KRAMER:
Yeah (points towards the doctor's office), he's the Assman! Jerry,
*he's* the Assman!
(The
doctor walks in)
DOCTOR:
Which one is the son?
GEORGE:
(stands up) I am.
DOCTOR:
Ah. I'm Doctor Cooperman. I just want you to know that this won't
take long. And he's going to be fine.
(Kramer
stops Dr. Cooperman at the door.)
KRAMER:
Yeah, excuse me, uh... You didn't by any chance recently get the
wrong license plates?
DR.
COOPERMAN: Yes. I'm still waiting for the motor vehicle bureau to
straighten it out.
KRAMER:
So...you're the Assman.
(Dr.
Cooperman winks and heads back to where Frank is waiting)
FRANK:
It was a million to one shot, Doc. Million to one.
[Back
at the Costanza's house, George and Frank are just walking
in]
ESTELLE:
Where have you been?!! You were supposed to fix the stove! I've been
waiting for hours!
FRANK:
I fell on some Fusilli.
ESTELLE:
Fusilli?
FRANK:
You know, the corkscrew pasta. It was a Fusilli Jerry. It got stuck
in me. Had to go to the proctologist.
ESTELLE:
The proctologist? Are you okay?
FRANK:
Yeah.
ESTELLE:
Oh, I was so worried. (grabs a couple of tissues from the
box)
GEORGE:
Ma, don't cry!
ESTELLE:
Oh, I can't help it!
GEORGE:
Ma, your eyes!
ESTELLE:
Oh!
The
End